#rather i'm trying to say that it's far more comforting to hear that you don't have to be The Best Person at all times

[lord-squiggletits]

Y'know the thing about writing feral/unhinged versions of Orion/Optimus, is that you can't go too far into the feral/unhinged direction to a point where OP's core character traits are lost or become too diminished. After all, in a multiple-continuity franchise like TF, part of what makes the stories make sense is that even if details change (sometimes major details), the characters are still recognizably themselves to one degree or another. (Although this isn't always the case due to executive meddling or some characters being such blank slates from their initial G1 appearances that there's basically nothing to model them off of, but I digress.)

It's pretty much another reason why I love IDW1 Optimus, bc he literally is a canonical feral/unhinged Optimus who's unhinged as a direct consequence of who he is as a person and what he's been through. Like, he still has those fundamental character traits of trying his best to be moral and make good choices, trying to be a role model, etc, except after 4 million years of war and untreated depression he's basically holding onto his sense of self by his fingertips. So when he "goes feral" e.g. losing his temper and beating up/killing people or saying hurtful things, he's feral in a way that's directly tied to his normal personality and not just as a random quirk he has.

IDW OP's feral moments arise from the gaps between "Optimus' attempts to be who he thinks he needs to be" and "the reality of the world that he can't fix/seems to only make worse" that cause him to lose hope, or become cynical, or lose his temper. But in this case, the unhinged-ness makes perfect sense because it arises out of Optimus trying and failing to be the best person or to make the most morally good choices he's trying to make. Basically, the "feral/unhinged" label is just another way of me trying to say that he's not just unhinged because he's weird or because he's a bad person, but because it's an emotional reaction (more like an emotional explosion due to pent-up emotions) to the context he exists in.

I'd also say that IDW OP's personality being generally reserved/stoic and (trying to be) noble works in tandem with those moments he has of going feral because it makes him more realistic. His psyche is treated in a way where the writers are like, "Hey what if the pressure of having to be everyone's idol and be the best person in the galaxy at all times actually broke Optimus down mentally and emotionally?" It makes IDW OP far more relatable. Instead of naturally being a perfect Christ-like figure who never wavers in his morals or convictions and is just naturally a nice person who always has the wisest and best answer, being a good person is something that IDW OP has to consciously strive to be. Even when he feels like it's useless, or the cycle of violence will never stop, or any attempts he makes to help only ends up with things becoming worse.

And I feel like this does a service not only to IDW Optimus as a character, but also as a sort of moral/philosophical perspective for the reader to ponder upon? I feel like culture at large (or at least my experience of it) tends to believe that "goodness" in a person is simply an innate feature that people are born/not born with, and that being "good" means that you must be good at all times, both in your actions as well as the way you feel emotionally about yourself and the world. Like, there's a tendency for our vision of "a good person" to be good in every aspect at all times without having to try to be a good person. So I think IDW Optimus' character stands as a good example of how someone can be good at heart but still struggle to maintain those feelings of optimism and hope and justice. It's a good idea to have such a paragon of a character (in-universe and out-of-universe) be so conflicted and to even be mistaken, misguided, or make things worse because it shows that goodness is as much about "trying to behave/act in a way that is good" and not just "existing as an innately good person."

It's way more realistic for a person to want to be good, try to be good, and sometimes/often fail than it is for them to just be a good person. I enjoy the fact that IDW Optimus is both a good person at heart, but also has to strive to be a good person and live up to other people's expectations of what they see in him. I like how he wants to be a good person and change society for the better, but he also spends a good amount of time either feeling hopeless and alone or being angry at/detached from other people because of how frustrated they make him. He's realistically portrayed as someone who wants to be good and hopeful and change things for the better, but is also mentally and emotionally broken by that burden because of how impossible it is for him to Fix Everything and be the Perfect Prime/Leader/Autobot that people see him as. It's this fascinating mixture of "yes, this is who he is as a person" but also "there are things he desires to be that he could never possibly become or live up to."

This got really far off based from feral/unhinged Optimus sdklfjaslkdlfkas. The TLDR is that if people want unhinged OP, I feel like they should give IDW OP a chance because he IS unhinged but he's unhinged in a way that's a realistic/thematic representation of how being an Absolute Good is impossible. And how being a good person isn't just about Existing And You Are A Good Person, but rather goodness is a constant state of flux in which you adjust, you make mistakes, you lose your temper and feel hopeless, but then you pick yourself up and try again.

Also IDW OP really likes climbing in dangerous wilderness and jumping out of flying vehicles which I think is very feral and sexy of him to do.

#squiggposting #idw op love #idk if i adequately explained it in the body of the post. but i really do feel some kind of way about the idea of like #being a good person isn't about just being static. always being the same person. just naturally being good and nice all teh time #but rather being a good person will cause you to be CHALLENGED and being a good person calls you to ACT #and you WILL make mistakes. there's never a situation in which you're all wise and always have the right solution or are infinitely patient #but goodness is something you can CHOOSE something you can BECOME and you can still have negative emotions and CHOOSE to be good #like being a good person is a continuous process of self improvement. you aren't just born a good person #and i'm not trying to tear down the notion of 'goodness' or say it doesn't exist #rather i'm trying to say that it's far more comforting to hear that you don't have to be The Best Person at all times #it's comforting to know that good people aren't just Effortlessly Good because they were Just Born That Way Naturally #there certainly are some people like that but most of us aren't like that. and i just like idw op for that reason #he shows that like. you can be a fucked up mentally ill guy who despairs and loses his temper and is basically suicidal #but you also still genuinely try to be hopeful and try to help others. like you are good because you Try To Be Good #and you Try To Hold Onto Your Principles bc giving up or becoming evil isn't an option for you #but also trying to be A Good Person drives you fucking crazy bc we live in a universe where that perfect good simply isn't possible #so the result is an optimus who's at once Noble Paragon and Unhinged bc he's unhinged as a result of trying to be a paragon

[inkbybambi]

best friend!simon riley picking you up from a bad date —

words: 2.2k rating: nothing explicit apart from a brief mention of sex, just some light angst and comfort. my blog is 18+ so minors please dni. warning: hurt/comfort, fluff, pet names, insecurity/doubt/worry, mentions of sex, simon is the softie we all know he is notes: originally written for @ghosts-cyphera ♡ we all need a bestfriend!simon in our lives who's so sweet and gentle with us.

one thing you love about simon — besides everything — is how reliable he is. strong, steadfast, there when you need him. even when he’s not physically there — his work taking him away for weeks or even months at a time — you find yourself reading over the messages he’s sent, the little sticky notes he’s left, whatever memento you’ve kept of him tucked away in the drawer in your bedside table.

not that you’ll tell him that.

you hate asking him for favors — asking anyone for favors, really, but him especially. whenever you ask someone for help, it's always accompanied by a long-suffering sigh or a roll of the eyes or some very clear indication that they'd rather do anything else.

except for simon.

which is why you're hesitant to ask him more than you absolutely need to. you don't want to push your luck too far, less he eventually tires of you as well.

losing people hurts, always assuming it's you that caused the problem. you've come to accept this, even if the dark feelings of being too much or a burden claw at the edges of your mind.

but losing simon? you don't think you'd ever get over that.

it's just after 9pm, the sky dark and clouds threatening, with thunder rumbling steadily in the sky. your hand shakes as you fumble your phone from your pocket, trying to hold your tears at bay as you scroll through your contacts.

your call log is all simon.

some appointments here and there, but simon everywhere else.

fuck.

you hiccup, the tears spilling from your eyes as the sky finally opens up, joining you in your mourning.

you don't have any other choice, really, so you click his number before you can talk yourself out of it and walk home instead, bringing it up to your ear as it rings.

he answers before the third ring.

"i'm so sorry to bother you," you sniffle into the phone, before he has a chance to say anything. you take in a sharp breath, blood turning to ice. "am i bothering you?" you sound so meek and small and tired.

“no, dove, you’re not,” comes his calm, reassuring voice. you’re only half-convinced.

"i'm sorry," you begin again. your heart falls to your stomach, convincing yourself that this is his final straw. you're overtaken by a wave of nausea, despite not having eaten anything since lunch. "i didn't know who else to call, and i lost my tram pass, and i don't have an umbrella, and — "

“dove,” he says, his accent soothing to your ears — he's so endlessly patient and kind. you ache.

"i can just walk home, i-i'm sorry," you whimper out, unable to stop the tears blurring your vision, feeling pathetic and weak and so, so alone.

“darling,” he says, a little stern. not angry, never angry. trying to focus you. “what’s wrong?”

“u-um, my date stood me up,” you sniff, swallowing hard. "i waited an hour," you mumble, looking to your shoes. "messaged him too, y'know. but he just. didn't show."

you think you hear simon curse over the line and your heart lurches, feeling like you're about to be sick.

“where are you?”

there's a rustle of fabric, the clink of keys, the heel of his boot walking across his floor. you manage to tell him the name of the restaurant, voice cracking.

“twenty minutes,” he says, and you’re about to protest but he beats you to it. “sit there and be good and patient and i’ll pick you up, yeah?”

"okay," you whisper in agreement, before the line clicks dead and you allow yourself to cry, huddling under the awning as some protection from the rain, now coming down in thick, sharp waves.

thirteen minutes later, the headlights of his truck shine through the dark, pulling up to the curb. you make a mad dash for the passenger door, still getting drenched in the process.

you can't even look at him, hands shaking as you buckle the belt, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

he says your name gently. you take in a shuddering breath and let it out just as shaky, looking over towards him. he's wearing his balaclava, but his eyes — even in the dark, you can make out his beautiful eyes. assessing you, worrying.

"i'm sorry," you croak out. you can't help it. it's burned into your tongue, driven into your mind to make him understand you didn't want to bother him. he doesn't have to forgive you, but as long as he knows, that's enough.

"love," he says, and there's... something in his voice, as he reaches over for your hand, holding it gently in his own. his eyes never leave yours. "'m never gonna be mad about you askin' for help." your eyes flit away, but he squeezes your hand and you reluctantly look back. "you know me better than that," he says, as if he can read the treacherous thoughts swirling in your head, drowning you and making it hard to breathe.

you can only nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. he hums, bringing the back of your hand up to graze his covered lips over the back, pulling out to drive you back.

"this is your flat," you say, fifteen minutes later as he shuts the car off. you were too busy looking at the window, watching the rain drops race down the glass, to notice that he wasn't driving the familiar route to your place.

"yes," he replies, as if it's obvious he'd bring you here. "you really think i'd let you stay home alone?"

his eyes are so fucking bright. it startles you, and you hate how your heart twists and thumps at how intently he's looking.

"i..." you start, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. his eyes flicker to your lips, snapping away just as quick. "i was gonna eat ice cream and drink shitty, cheap wine," you say.

"as if i don't have either of those things here," he replies, opening the door and effectively ending the conversation. you scramble after him, eager to be inside in the warmth and burrow yourself into his couch.

"go get changed," he says, voice clear as he removes the balaclava and bends to untie his shoes.

you hesitate for a second, until he looks up to you and there's that something lingering in his gaze — the same something that was in his voice.

"go on now," he repeats, softer, and you ditch your shoes and your uncomfortably wet jacket by his.

his flat is as familiar as your own — you could walk through it blindfolded at night and you wouldn't knock into a single thing.

well.

you might knock into a corner or two, but that's not a vision thing. it's a you're a bit clumsy thing. simon finds it endlessly amusing, poking at the bruises that blossom on your skin while you bat his hand away.

his bedroom is familiar as well. which is why you don't think twice before you're shimmying out of your clothes — undergarments as well — and rifling through his drawers, finding your favorite shirt of his and a pair of his boxers.

you take a moment to smell the collar, taking comfort in the scent that lingers. you’ve been dressed in his clothes many times before this but it feels different this time.

as you pad back out to the living room, simon’s already on the couch. your favorite blanket is draped across his lap, two bowls of ice cream and a bottle of cheap wine sitting open, glasses filled far more than you would’ve. but you’ll indulge him, mostly because you have the sneaking suspicion that he’ll have you sleep here anyways.

his balaclava is off. the last dregs of tension drain from you as he looks over to you, face soft in the lowlight of the lamp, tv already ready with a show you’ve watched a thousand times that he watches with you without complaint.

“knew you’d choose that one,” he says with a bit of a smirk as you crawl on the couch, burrowing yourself into his side, his arm slinging across the back of the cushion.

“am i that predictable?” you mumble, a small ‘thank you’ as he hands you a bowl.

he doesn’t answer, but you feel the burn of his stare before he snorts, flicking the tv to start playing, the familiar theme relaxing you further.

the silence with him is comfortable, lingering in a hazy in-between of awake and sleep, empty bowls and mostly empty glasses sitting on the coffee table.

“were you going to fuck him?” he asks, three episodes in, bottle empty.

you blink, not sure if you heard him properly as you pull back to look at him. you can’t read his eyes. something hot twists in your gut.

“i-i don’t know, simon,” you start, the weight of his stare heavy. “maybe?”

he doesn’t say anything and you chew your lip for a moment, fingers curling to play with the blanket. “depends how the date went, i suppose. doesn’t matter much now,” you snort. his gaze hasn’t changed. “why?”

his jaw clicks, taking a deep breath. “you deserve better ‘n that.”

a confused frown pulls at your mouth, unsure how to reply. “i know how to be safe,” you tell him, voice soft.

he seems to be weighing his words in his head, lowering the volume of the show. you feel sick.

dark eyes rove over your face, taking in every minute detail. you bite at your nail, just for something to do.

“don’t think there’s a bloke in the world that’s worthy of ya.”

your frown deepens, breaking your eyes from his, twisting your fingers in your lap. relationships aren’t easy. being that vulnerable with someone isn’t easy.

you never want someone to pay for you, and even the smallest gestures like opening the car door or pulling out your chair feel like it’s too much. you don’t deserve that kind of attention. after a while, they’ll get tired. you’ll become a burden to them like everything else in your life.

it’s easier to be by yourself. the only person you have to worry about bothering is you.

“love.” he tilts his head, eyes trying to catch yours. how hasn’t he tired of you yet?

a hand under your chin forces your gaze up, and you try to shrink yourself against the back of the couch. your voice catches in your throat, words stuck there.

“what’s goin’ on in tha’ pretty head f’yours?”

you swallow thickly, finding it damn near impossible to keep your eyes on his.

“‘s not like it matters,” you start. his brows furrow, but he stays silent. “no one would want me anyways.”

“‘n why would you say that?”

frustration burns the back of your throat. isn’t it obvious? you can barely call him in a dire situation without thinking the worst of yourself. how can he think of you as anything but a nuisance? how could he think anyone else would put up with it?

“you wouldn’t understand,” you say, defeated. you crumble back into the couch.

“make me understand.”

heat flashes at the nape of your neck. he takes your hands in his, cradling them in his warmth. your name sounds so soft in his voice.

“how aren’t you tired of me?” comes your whispered question, nose tingling and eyes threatening to water. you look at him. hesitant. scared.

the silence is loud. his frown deepens. it takes a few painful minutes, but you see the moment something clicks in place.

“you know i’d do anything for you, yeah?”

your lip quivers, sniffling as you beg yourself not to cry.

“because you do the same for me,” he continues. you doubt it, mind going blank of every time he’s come to you for something.

his touch moves to your elbow, tugging you forward gently until he can arrange you in his lap. he slips his hands beneath the hem of his shirt, thumbs rubbing on your hips where the waistband of his boxers start.

you slowly brace your hands on his shoulders. firm and broad and safe.

“you apologize so much. you worry so much.” the tears slip down your cheeks, throat aching, but now you can’t look away from him. one hand moves to cup the nape of your neck, thumb rubbing gently at the skin behind your ear.

“you’re allowed to ask for help.”

you shake your head, a “no” caught in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“oh, love.” he cradles you into the curve of his neck, arm wrapping around your waist and keeping a gentle hold at the base of your skull. “you have me wrapped around your finger ‘n you don’t even know it.”

he lets you cry into his neck, dampening the collar of his shirt. but his cologne is soothing and you eventually slump against him. you’re so tired.

his lips graze your temple, his soft touch lulling you to sleep. you’ll talk about it tomorrow, but for now you want to stay wrapped up in his arms, held by someone who genuinely loves you.

#ink by bambi #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley/reader #simon riley/you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley hurt/comfort #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #ghost imagine #modern warfare imagine

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hello, Author-san! I hope you're doing well. I'm not sure if my last request was sent, but that's okay! I have another idea, though 👀 It's a poly!Marauders scenario where the Slytherin!Reader isn't accustomed to physical contact or doesn't show emotions much, leading the boys to believe they're overwhelming them since the boys enjoy being affectionate. So they begin to avoid the reader (sadge), and now the reader will be the one to initiate affection. I'd like it to be a bit angsty with a fluffy ending, please. Thank you!!!

💀🌻

Hi baby! Thank you so much! I'm not sure if this is as angsty as you were wanting but I hope it's okay!

cw: slight angst

893 words

Goosebumps rose over your skin, triggered by the gentle hand on your thigh. You looked to your side at James, who was still stuck in discussion with the other two boys. You were stony-faced as you listened to the conversation, keeping all of your body to yourself, as per usual. Sirius glanced at you, face lighting with affection. He extended a hand across the table, wiggling his fingers invitingly. 

“Wanna hold my hand, babydoll?” Smile peeking into his tone. You just shook your head, looking down into your lap. Sirius tried to keep the disappointment form his face, but the two boys noticed it. James pulled his hand from your thigh. You noticed that he didn’t squeeze your thigh before letting go like he normally did and your heart clenched, but you didn’t say anything, just going back to your schoolwork. You were checked into the conversation, even though you didn’t participate.

“Have you finished your potions essay yet, Pads?” Remus questioned gently. 

“No, I haven't even started.” He sighed, slumping back into his chair. You glanced up at Remus, looking at him longingly, wishing you could easily express how you feel about him.

 Over the time the four of you had been dating, the boys’ affection towards you had dwindled, and you only had yourself to blame. Whenever they tried to express their affection or casually loved on you, you visibly tensed. Not necessarily out of discomfort, but rather because you liked it too much for your own comfort. Nevertheless, their affections were now few and far between. It only made it worse that all the boys were so comfortable in their love. You sighed and dropped your pen, playing with your green tie in an attempt to subdue your hankering for contact. It didn’t work. This apparently caught Remus’ attention.

“You doing okay, Y/N? Stuck on something?” The use of your name caused you physical pain. At the beginning of the relationship you didn’t hear your given name at all, the boys opting to use a variety of sickly-sweet pet names. Another thing that you had to grieve. You looked up at Remus and Sirius, eyes round and glossy and heartbreaking. 

“No, I’m okay.” You muttered. Sirius searched your face, clearly itching to reach out and touch you but resisting. You wrapped your arms around your torso, hugging yourself. 

“Are you sure?” James asked from beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder before quickly retreating. “Sorry…” He said, shamefully. 

“No, it’s okay Jamie” You looked up at him, pouting in a way that broke his heart. “I- I’m sorry.” You looked back down at your lap, bouncing your knee rapidly. 

“Sorry for what?” Remus quired, much more gently than you deserved. 

“I’ve… I’ve been really weird. About like, touch and stuff. And I can’t talk as well as you three do.” You cut yourself off before you spilled more of your misery. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, Y/N.” Sirius ducked his head, trying to see your face. 

“Not everyone is okay with that kind of stuff, it’s okay.” Remus said, clearly thinking they were being reassuring. 

“No but…” You pressed your lips together, trying to get the words out. “I- I don’t not want it.” Your face flamed. You hated this. You hated admitting you wanted anything. It felt weird and wrong. They all looked confused. “I do want it.” Your voice was barely above a breath. “I do, I just… don't like wanting it.” You wrapped your arms around yourself tighter, avoiding their gaze again. 

James cooed at you, going all soft inside. “Baby,” He pulled you into his side. “Is this okay?” You nodded rapidly, making Sirius’ heart swell at your clear wanting. He could understand that, not growing up with any expressions of love. Craving something so foreign. 

“It’s okay to want love, you know?” Remus asked, reaching a long arm across the table to grab your hand. You nodded again. 

“I really am sorry I’ve been so weird. It’s only because I want it, I just… don’t know how to handle it.” You chuckled sadly. James could cry from seeing you look so self-deprecating. 

“Well,” James leaned the side of his head into the top of yours, making you shiver. “Maybe we can help you? Seems like you’re just not used to it.” 

Sirius chuckled. “We can get you used to it, babydoll.” You looked up at him, smiling. 

“You can?” You mumbled. 

“I think we can, very easily actually. What do you think, lads?” He looked at the other two boys, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

Remus’ was similarly cheeky. “I think that can be arranged.” Something in his tone made the hairs on your neck stand up. He was being unusually coy. You shrunk at his hungry expression. 

“Careful, Moons.” James giggled. “I think they’re about to turn to ash.” He pet the side of your head. 

“I’m okay with that.” Remus smirked, leaning over the table to grab your face. You squeaked as he pressed a hungry kiss to your lips, pulling a desperate sound from your throat that made the other two boys chuckle. He pulled away, kissing your cheek again. Your whole face was on fire, but it wasn’t unpleasant. 

“I think you’re getting better already.” James kissed the top of your head.

#poly marauders #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders fluff #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #marauders era #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #drabble #fluff #the marauders #the marauders era #marauders fluff #marauders hurt/comfort #anon ask #anon request

[lowkeyremi]

Double Trouble timeskip!hinata x reader

note: i wanted to expand on shoyo as a dad

CW: past pregnancy, children, twins, established relationship

"I don't wan' the blue one daddy, I wan' da one Mia has." Nia whines when her father tries to give her the blue tube of yogurt.

"I'm sorry baby, but sissy got the last red one." Shoyo explains to her softly. It doesn't soften the blow though, her face starts to scrunch up.

"Don't cry honey, the blue one is really good! Yummy yum!" Your little munchkin starts to sniffle, "Here go, sissy, you have da red one."

Mia is such a kind little girl, sharing with her twin. Shoyo thought having twins would be chaotic because of how the Miya twins are with one another, but so far it hasn't been that bad. They are only four though, it might get worse when they get a little older.

"Thank you sissy." Nia says with a smile as she trades yogurts with her sister.

"Well, I'm glad that worked out." The girls look up at their dad, big doe eyes, one pair filled to the brim with tears the other pair glowing.

Nia wipes away her tears with her chubby little hand. Hinata follows his little girls to the table. He's on daddy duty today while you're out on a three day business trip. Hinata was going to call the sitter but she's had the flu for the past couple of days, which in terms could affect the girls and maybe just make her feel worse.

As devoted as the man is to his work, he took off those three days because he has enough sick days to do so. Taking time off of work for the children is one of the many sacrifices he makes for deciding to have kids.

"I think mama will be kinda mad I didn't take you guys to daycare today." In his defense, he woke up late, and not just a few minutes kind of late. Two hours, kind of late. It's easier for him to call daycare and say his girls were sick rather than explain that he was unprepared, so that's what he did.

"Ms. Momoko gonna call mama, right?" Mia asks. The yogurt tube is almost empty. She's a fast eater just like her papa.

"Huh? What?!" Your poor husband doesn't even get time to think out an excuse, you're calling him right now.

"Crap." He picks up your call.

"Hey darling." His voice is suave. Best to soften the blow with his sexy voice. His girls giggle at his voice deepening.

"Hey Sho, are the girls alright? I knew something was going around at daycare and Nia seemed a little bit sniffly before I left." The worry in your voice calms Hinata. Luckily you haven't caught on.

"Yeah, they're in bed right now. Do we have any canned soup?" The girls look at him. They give him that face little kids give when you're lying.

"I think there should be some miso in the fridge, heat it up for them, okay?" He nods forgetting you can't actually see him.

"Of course, I'll make clear soup for them." Nia walks up to her father, "I wanna talk to mama!"

Hinata chuckles hesitantly, "What are you doing out of bed little girl?"

You coo softly at Nia when Hinata hands her the phone. He's trying to mouth to her to keep quiet about not being sick, but of course, with her only being four she doesn't get it.

"You feeling okay, baby?" A small fake cough escapes Nia's throat. Hinata hopes you don't hear how fake that was.

"My thoat hurt, but daddy takin care of us." She whines.

"Aww your throat? You're so cute. Mama hopes you feel better, is Mia close by or is she sleeping?" Nia hands the phone over to Mia, "Nia, you still there, honey?"

"Hi mama." Mia has a silky voice which causes you to once again be in awe of the the cute little girls that were once in your womb.

"Hi Mia, Mama misses you." She smiles brightly at your voice. Both of the girls are infatuated with you. When they first started walking they would not ever leave your side. Not even to use the bathroom.

"I miss you more. My thoat hurts too, but I be okay." You find it adorable how your girls comfort you.

"I hope you get better, baby girl. I love you very much. Can I talk to daddy?" She lets out a small hum. Your husband once again has the phone.

"Okay baby, gotta go. The girls need their soup." You quickly notice how he's in a rush to get off of the phone with you.

"I have to get back to work, call you later?"

"Of course, I love you." The sincerity of his voice always gets to you. Shoyo is always so understanding and quick to help. It's one of the many things you love about him.

"Love you too." He says his goodbyes and you say yours. Hinata never hangs up on you, so you always have to do it.

"That was a close one. Good acting girls." The ginger sticks out his hand for them to high five.

"My thoat rweally do hurt." They say at the same time.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #hinata x reader #shoyo hinata #hinata shoyo #hinata shouyou #shouyo hinata #hinata shoyo x reader #shoyo x reader #shouyo hinata x reader #shoyo hinata x reader #haikyuu shoyo #shoyo fluff #hinata fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu characters as dads #haikyuu dads #dad!haikyuu

[hyunjilicious]

most to least kinky [skz ver.]

A/n: this has probably been done a million times before but I thought I could make my own list, right?

Warnings: this isn't full on smut, but A LOT of things are mentioned (from slapping to ass eating to crying to cnc) I can't possibly mention them all. Needless to say, this is strictly 18+, please proceed with caution!!!!

Disclaimer: I'm sorry. I'm incredibly sorry, ok? I don't understand Seungmin 😭😭 I absolutely love him with all my heart, but he's a mystery to me. I've also only been in this fandom for a few months so maybe with time I'll be able to write for him but until then, I'll just keep apologising to my Minnie biased readers for doing their baby dirty. I'm sorry, I promise I'm trying!! 🥺

Please let me know what you thought and if you have other ideas!! I'd love to hear different opinions!!!

1. Lee Know 

Do I even have to explain? At this point, you could basically write an entire encyclopedia only using the stuff this man is into - he knows it all and wants to try it all. The thing is, whether he trusts you enough or not, because if he's too shy to bring up the one thing that's on his mind, he'll bombard you with hints, hoping he'd "manipulate" you into mentioning it first. Not that he'd ever do anything you're not 100% comfortable with, but he'd much rather you be the one who asks. He'd slap your ass, bite it, mark it, grope it, eat your pussy from behind and send you porn links - all while hoping you'd finally get the idea and ask him to eat your ass. Because he's shy like that. But once you do catch on and tell him about it, he's all in. 

And then, as he grows more comfortable around you, all these little games you two play will slowly start to shift. His main priority will always be you, but with time, his teasing nature will replace the old Minho you used to have sex with, and literally everything this man does will be about driving you insane. 

He'd make you beg, whine, crawl on your knees, hump pillows - hump his leg, just so you can prove yourself, only to deny you again, always with a grin on his face. A loving smile as he looks at you, right before he throws a very swift "No" in your face and makes you start over. You have to be spent, exhausted, dumb and drunk on him before he finally gives you what you want. But when he finally does, it's everything you ever wanted and more because he doesn't.hold.back.

2. Jeongin

To be fair, it might be because he had to go through the "Watch your mouth, there's a child in our grup!" phase, which - cute and all, got old very fast. Maybe this side of him would have never surfaced like this, but you can't possibly know, there's only one Jeongin and he's a meanie. He's stern, he's serious and there's only one way, his. 

He takes the safe word very seriously because otherwise, he doesn't take no for an answer. There's no "too much", "too hard", "too fast". He doesn't care. He knows you can take it and you have to. 

You don't move, he moves you. If you don't shut up when he tells you to, it's 'ass up, face down into the pillow' - no questions, no warnings. 

It all starts nicely, though. His good little girl, his angel, who needs to do absolutely everything she's told otherwise his punishments will be downright cruel and you'll be nothing more than a "dumb, fucking whore" until he's done with you. 

One thing that makes him draw the line though, is crying. He loves to see little tears at the corner of your eyes as he fucks you into oblivion, just so he can mock you for it, "Oh, is my sweet, little baby crying?" and then go faster. But if you let out anything more than a cute, little sob, or if you start actually crying, even though you're still down to keep going, he won't. He can't. He's cruel, but not that cruel, it hurts his heart to see you like that and absolutely never lets things get that far.

3. Felix

This man is into… everything. His eyes light up every single time there's something new for you two to try, and he puts his whole soul into it. 

On one hand, he's into the basics - he goes crazy for your tits, will lick, bite, suck and eat anything off of them (absolutely adores eating cream off your body, but yeah, your tits are his favorite spot). He loves lingerie, loves ripping it off of you, loves seeing you dress up, pretend to be a nurse, a teacher or the girl next-door who just so happened to leave the window open. 

Doesn't have a daddy kink but he's just so obsessed with doing absolutely anything for you, he'd go with it. Most likely prefers 'Sir' but it isn't a must. Will melt and cry if you allow him to fall you 'Mommy'

The definition of a switch. When he's a dom, 90% of the time he's soft, full of praises and encouragements, loves making you feel all safe and loved as you degrade yourself for him. He'll whisper in your ear the absolute sweetest, most loving words you ever heard in your entire life, all while completely breaking you in half with his cock. But also, there are times when there's just one way for him to relax and let loose, and during those days, he's lazy and he's condescending, judgy and a little bit mean, and these are the absolute worst moments for you to be brat. 

But all of these are only half of him, because this man is probably the most dedicated and enthusiastic sub in the world. He'll do absolutely everything he's told and then beg for more. Way too eager to humiliate himself for you. Also very, very vocal, he'll cry, whine and beg and will also never fail to let you know just how obsessed he is with worshiping the ground you walk on. 

4. Chan

Also a switch, but it takes months, if not more, for you guys to get there. He's a leader by nature, used to having a lot of responsibilities and a lot of control over the things around him. He likes to be in charge, knows how to do it, and loves the responses he gets. Probably one of the best doms out there because even though you have a safe word, he's so fucking careful with you at all times that he knows to slow down before you even have to think about using it. It only happened once, and your voice still rings in his head - he still hasn't forgiven himself for it. 

But since he's so observant and trusts you to put a stop to whatever is going on in case you need to, he feels free to go crazy. Unlike Jeongin, he likes to hear you cry, likes knowing he has that power over you and the fact you know how easy it is for him to absolutely wreck and ruin you, but still allow him to go crazy, drives him wild. Trust is probably what gets him off the most, he absolutely adores how you give up control and leave yourself at his mercy. 

But then again, as your relationship strengthens and he slowly realizes that maybe he doesn't always have to be the one to do it all, that others can take care of him too, that he can actually let loose and renounce all control, you start to see another side of him. 

He's an exemplary sub, not one brat bone in his body. He tries sometimes to test you, but he goes back to being doe eyed and whiny for you in no time. He's not as vocal and not as eager to let all his enthusiasm show, but just like Felix, he'll do absolutely anything you tell him, and then thank you for allowing him to do it. 

5. Han

Another switch. He can be a dom and he can be a sub, but I think there are two other sides of him. This man will go back and forth between being the absolute, most cocky motherf on the planet, to being absolutely wiped and wrapped around your finger. And while these for aspects of him can pair up in any way, leaving you with a teasing dom, a loving and soft one, or a bratty sub that will try to make you prove to him just how badly you need him to worship you and so on, I think he's not always like this.

You can't really tell whether there's a pattern, but maybe if you spent more time together you'd be able to spot one. Maybe it depends on how his day went, how tired he is, how his social batteries are like at the moment, but I think there are many, many days when this man just needs to feel you, to smell you, hear you. To collapse into the sheets with you, forget about the world and melt in your arms. Yeah, he's down to try a lot of stuff, but what he loves the most are the simple things. Like missionary late at night, with the lights on so he can see every glimmer of anything in your eyes, to wipe the sweat off your temples and to be able to smother you with kisses. Impromptu sex in the morning, lazy sex in the shower, cuddling that turns into you riding him on the couch while watching a movie. That's what I think he's into the most.

6. Changbin

Thank god this man is not the kinkiest because he'd probably break you in half and no amount of aftercare would be able to fix that. This man goes hard. No matter if you're the one that woke him up, all needy and clingy, or if he came home riled and ready to go, he's already ready to give you his all. That dumptruck isn't there for nothing, he doesn't even have to try that hard to make you scream. 

But it's not just physical, he goes all out in all ways. He doesn't just want you on your back, legs spread open so he can eat you out, no, you have to be on his face, full weight down on top of him, and you have to ride. Other than that, you don't really have to do much, because he's a sucker for handling you. He'll hold up your weight when he fucks you against the dresser and he doesn't mind being the one who gets rid of all the clothes in the way when he randomly decides he wants to fuck you bent over the kitchen table. 

So I don't think he needs much more than you two already have. Of course, he's usually fine with trying things you're into, and yeah, he likes them, but that's just more like 'fun' to him. He's not the kind to call you degrading names or spank you until you cry, through he might enjoy a little bit too much seeing his hand print on your ass or the bruises he left on your hips just from hard he was holding onto you while fucking you into oblivion.

Out of all the things you'd get him to try, I think one of his favorites would be wax play. He'll probably ask you to do it again, maybe like 3 months later. Also, one other thing that gets him going and that he still might be shy about it, is just how hard his cock twitched when you called him daddy. Oops. I don't like it, please do it again.

7. Seungmin 

Ok, again, disclaimer with this one. I wanna start by apologizing to Minnie and to all the Minnie biased readers that are here with us today, but I can't read this man. At all. And that's the reason I put him so low on the list because while I do have some ideas, associating him with certain kinks and stuff felt completely empty to me. Like I have no idea what he'd like? But in case you've read this far, lemme tell you what I did manage to come up with and please let me know how you see it!!

I think trust, communication and fun are the most important to him. I feel like he'd have so much fun guiding you and giving you instructions on how to do different things, from how to suck him off just the way he needs it, to how to use a toy on yourself. And I think it goes both ways, he'd love to have you tell exactly how and what to do at all times.

I also think he can be stern and commanding, serious and totally focused, but he also probably adores being a giggling mess, unable to control himself as you give him your all, worship him and make him feel absolutely cherished. I'm sorry, but I feel like this man thrives on love and appreciation. Other than that, my brain is empty, please help me!!

8. Hyunjin

Ok, maaaaybe I shouldn't have put him last. But fuck it. Sue me. I don't think he's kinky at all. I think that again, he'd be the type to try out most of the things you come up with, but I don't think he associates them with sex like that. I think it's just some form of fun you two have, I don't think there are too many crazy things that necessarily get him going. 

He's a romantic, ok? His main goal is pleasure. He's the kind to absolutely not give a shit about anything, all that he needs is you. If he has you and a surface (not even mandatory) he's satisfied. He'll do absolutely anything, worship every single inch of your body. The kind to kiss his way up your leg before eating you out, to kiss you before you even finished swallowing his cum. Nothing to him is gross, to him, bodies are beautiful and made to be worshiped. He'd paint your body, lay back and allow you to do absolutely anything you want to him, he's just full of want and passion. 

I don't think he'd ever be the kind of person to associate pain or humiliation with pleasure. Like he knows they're valid kinks and will not shame anyone about it, but with him, you have to feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, loved, cradled and appreciated in absolutely every way. 

Absolutely the type to eat your ass and then be like "What? People don't do that?". Doesn't think spitting in each other's mouths is degrading because, "We literally kiss all the time, what?" 

Will ask you to slap him just to see what it's like but will probably malfunction if you ask him to do it to you. 

I think he'd be down for a lot of stuff, but doesn't see any of them as kinks. Doesn't need any of them. They don't get him hard. It's all just for fun. 

Please let me know what you thought!! I'd love to talk about this!!! ❤️

#bang chan x reader #lee felix x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #jeongin x reader #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #bang chan smut #felix smut #lee felix smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #lee know smut #changbin smut #jeongin smut #han jisung smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids smut

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 5

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Not proofread!! Holy moly. Here it is, folks. The scene that inspired this whole fic. I had fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it. Once again, I appreciate everyone who likes, comments, and/or leaves kudos so much. I really started this fic for myself but good golly, that dopamine rush whenever I get a notif might be more addicting than spice. I'm glad to be part of the bald man brigade.

Also, I can't believe I'm only now questioning why I decided to write this in the second person? I guess maybe I thought this fic would be a lot shorter and not that deep, lol. At this point 'y/n' probably has enough personality to just be a straight-up OC. It's funnier because I don't even find second-person or y/n fics any more engaging either. I always detach myself by giving 'y/n' her own name and only seeing her as a character in the fic.

ANYWAY, sorry to ramble. Stay safe and have a good one, ya weirdos.

You step out into the dark cul-de-sac of the guest hall, illuminated only by the large suspensor lamp in the middle. Feyd-Rautha looks you up and down, seemingly entranced by how the dim light casts his shadow on your modest dress. Atreides green, he recognized.

"Trying to sneak into my rooms again?" you say arms crossed, leaning on your door. "I didn't appreciate the last time, by the way."

"It's my house," he says cooly, "and I did knock this time."

You stare at him indifferently.

"Quite the display from you yesterday morning, using The Voice on me." His voice low and raspy, "I should have you drawn and quartered."

You scoff in his face. "You almost choked me to death. Are you trying to start a war?"

He takes a step closer and his face is inches from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek, "I didn't think I'd like you this much, little hawk."

"What do you want, Feyd-Rautha?" you had no patience for him right now.

"Ah," he steps back, a dark smile on his face, "I've been waiting to hear my name from your tongue." His hand reaches for your lips. "I've grown quite tired of 'na-Baron'."

You grab his wrist before he can touch you. "If you're only here to toy with me, I would rather be left alone to prepare for bed." You release his hand and turn to open your door.

Feyd-Rautha props an arm against the doorway to block you. "We're to be married in three days," he says, "and I just can't seem to bring myself to let go of my 'harpies', as you called them." He meets your gaze. "You said you'd kill them. Did you mean that?"

You look up at him with steely eyes. He towered over you but your heart felt no fear, "Yes."

His coy smile returns. "Good. Come to my training hall tomorrow," he says, walking away.

"What?" you call after him.

"Dress to fight," he says over his shoulder. "I want to see what you can do, Atreides."

You needed no help from Zora in putting on a loose shirt and long pants. The plain beige outfit certainly wasn't as elegant as the dresses you had been wearing so far. But it was comfortable and you could fight in it, which was all that mattered. Still, you look yourself in the mirror. The soft, airy fabrics draped over your figure well but perhaps you were not in the best shape as you once were. Your muscle mass is much less than your brother's and he wasn't particularly built himself. You admit you did wane off your training sessions with Gurney and Paul leading up to your departure from Caladan. Nevertheless, you were still a skilled warrior. Another secret you've been keeping from the Harkonnens.

You were 14 when you started learning the blade. Watching Paul, 2 years your senior, practice with the Atreides Warmaster lit a fire in you. You didn't hesitate to pester your father to let you train with them and of course, there was nothing he could deny his darling daughter. You were a fierce and determined student. Gurney Halleck was a man you genuinely believed to be one of the best fighters in the Imperium, along with Duncan Idaho. Gurney would train you and Paul on even days. On odd days, your mother would teach you the Weirding Way. These lessons, much like the rest of your mother's teachings, your father wanted to know nothing about. After becoming decently adept at Prana-Bindu and gaining almost complete physical control of your body, Lady Jessica insisted that you also be skilled in the Bene Gesserit style of combat.

You were far from mastery in either but the combination of both trainings made you a formidable fighter. Despite this, you could never seem to beat your brother in a sparring match. A fact that frustrated you to no end, though you appreciated that Paul never went easy on you. You'd always blame it on him having trained for longer than you have. But in truth, you knew there had just always been something special about him.

"Are you ready, my lady?" Zora's soft voice wakes you from your thoughts.

"Hm? Right. Yes, let's go." You quickly tie your hair out of the way and grab your father's dagger from atop your dresser.

There was no fanfare when you entered the hall. On one end, the na-Baron's concubines sat chained on the steps of the shallow recessed pit in their leathers, their glares piercing through you. Your eyes linger on them as Feyd-Rautha and his Warmaster greet you.

"I was starting to think my lady bride was bluffing," Feyd-Rautha says as you approach him. The older man beside him offers you a polite bow.

"Perhaps she wasn't so keen on your brutish games," you bite back. "Your lord uncle won't be joining us?"

"No," Feyd-Rautha crosses his arms, "but he'll be hearing about your victory. Or your demise."

"Right. Well, I assume you'll be releasing them from those chains," you nod towards his pets "Not sure why they're necessary."

"Oh, trust me, little hawk. They're necessary." Feyd-Rautha motions to a servant.

"Your blade and shield, my lady," they bow, presenting you with a knife and a small device you recognize as a Holtzman shield.

"I've brought my own," you unsheath your father's dagger. You contemplate taking the shield but remembering that the na-Baron forwent it during his gladiator fight, you decide to do so as well. "They've no weapons anyway, the shield seems pointless."

Feyd-Rautha shrugs, "If you insist."

You take a deep breath, "Let's get this over with."

You lightly stretch as you walk down the steps of the shallow pit to stand opposite the na-Baron's concubines. You had come into this on the pretense of righteousness. For Iassa, you told yourself. But you've known her a mere two days. A part of you wanted to show off. You were good and you knew it. You could probably kill anyone in this room, even Feyd-Rautha. You craved the respect of the people here: the Harkonnens, the people of Geidi Prime. You figured this was one way to get it.

Feyd-Rautha walks around the pit to one of his concubines and kneels to whisper something in her ear. You assume a fighting stance when he moves to release her from the chains. When you meet her eyes, they are filled with feral bloodlust.

Suddenly, you weren't so bold. The veil of courage you have maintained since you arrived, even when Feyd-Rautha had your neck in his grip, is torn apart when you face this woman. You could tell no part of her would hesitate to rip your throat out with her bare teeth. You were almost relieved they were unarmed, but you weren't sure if that would make them any less lethal.

Fear grew in your chest and you had less than a moment to recite the Litany in your head before the concubine lunged at you.

You crouch down in time and slash at her abdomen as she approaches you. You turn to face her on the other side of the pit and she wastes no time in attacking you again. She attempts to grab your armed hand but you take hold of her wrist first and move to pin it behind her back. Quickly, your blade drags across her throat and she falls to your feet.

The kill has not yet registered in your mind but your heart is racing. You can almost hear your blood coursing through your veins. You held your arms outstretched, your eyes focused ahead, ready for the next one.

Across the pit, Feyd-Rautha licks his lips, smiling as he releases his second concubine. This time, you walk toward her while she moves to attack you. You clock her head with the pommel of your dagger and knock her a few steps back. She reaches a hand to wipe the blood beginning to drip out of her nose. After examining it, she snarls and bares her sharp teeth at you. Your mind is blank now. She dodges your first slash then manages to land a blow to your jaw. You seethe from the pain. You spit out the mixture of blood and saliva filling your mouth. The anger at the hit drives you to rush at her. Seeing an opening, you duck down to her waist and stab her twice. As she falls to her knees, the look of determination doesn't leave her eyes until the very last moment.

When you turn around, Feyd-Rautha has already released the last concubine. The ruthless scream she lets out disorients you. She pounces and knocks you over. She straddles you and pins your arms to the ground, your blade sliding inches away. She screams again in your face at the death of her sisters. You wedge your right knee between you and her abdomen, the only thing keeping her teeth from reaching your throat. You grunt as you struggle to free your hands. In your periphery, you see Feyd-Rautha, wielding his own blade, take a step into the pit.

"GET BACK," you roar, and he is powerless to refuse.

You turn back to your opponent still on top of you and you butt her head with your own. She loosens her grip and you kick her off to hastily crawl to your weapon. When she reorients herself and attempts to grab you again, you hook a knee under her arm and flip the both of you over. With your weight on her chest and both your knees pinning her arms down, she thrashes underneath you, claws digging into your right ankle. You take your blade in both hands and her screaming is silenced when you sink your knife deep into her heart.

When you rise, the room is quiet. Your chest heaves. The stark white ceiling lights don't help the lightheadedness that begins to wash over you in the post-adrenaline rush. Feyd-Rautha says something from behind you but his speech is garbled as you reel from the thrill of what just transpired. You were electrified. You almost... wanted more.

Then, the realization of the revolting scene you are in settles upon you and you are knocked off your high. You look at the leather-clad bodies scattered around you, the grotesque way they lay on the floor, the red blood pooling around them made brighter by the sterile grayness of the room. You did this.

A hand on your shoulder snaps you out of it. In reflex, you turn and raise your blade at the offender.

Feyd-Rautha holds his hands up, "Whoa, easy, Atreides. Trying to kill me? Don't want to start a war, do you?"

You yield your weapon. Your eyes dodge his as you look to your feet and try to steady your breathing.

"Enjoy your first taste of blood?" Feyd-Rautha says, the look in his eyes indecipherable to you. He raises a hand and swipes his thumb on your cheek. It comes away covered in crimson.

You gasp and reach for your face with your own hand. You don't even know if it's your blood or theirs, or when it got on you. Your heart pounded, unable to decide whether you were repulsed or proud.

"Look at you," he says licking the red off his finger. You could not help but stare at him through the strands of your hair that had come undone in the fighting. "You're beautiful like this," his hand reaches for your face again.

"No," you say low and quiet when you swat his hand away, "you're sick." You didn't know if you meant him or yourself. You calmly turn to leave. No one stops you when you make your way up the shallow steps of the pit. As you pass Iassa—no, Zora—by the doorway, you tell her flatly, "Prepare a bath."

You had never taken a life before. Today, you took three. You were glad you didn't know their names. You decided you'd never find out.

After Zora pours a final pitcher of hot water into the bath, you tell her, "You may go. I'll dress myself later, thank you."

She bows and makes her way out of your rooms.

In your solitude, you bring your knees to your chest. You had been quick to wipe the blood off your cheek before you even reached your quarters. Now, you cup the water into your hands and rub it into your face, the slight sting of the heat comforting you.

He was a cruel man, your betrothed. This is what you've decided. Having you kill the concubines he claimed to want to keep so much. But wasn't it you who threatened to kill them? He started it, you argue with yourself, when he had Iassa killed. You felt like a child.

When you used to hear of Feyd-Rautha's exploits, you had to mask your disgust. And yet now, you had killed so easily in that pit as he had in the arena. What was this place doing to you?

When you left Caladan, Paul had never killed anyone either. You wonder if he ever does, would he feel the same exhilaration you did when you slit that first concubine's throat. No. Your brother was fierce but, like your father, he had a good heart. You beat him by three. You hoped it would stay that way.

You think about your future here, marrying Feyd-Rautha. Producing heir after heir under the Baron's watchful eye. You were a broodmare. Despite all your fancy training and education. Despite your little demonstration earlier. It was the bitter truth.

You missed home. You missed walking along the beach at night with your father. You missed your mother's gentle hands brushing your hair. You missed the banter and teasing with your brother. You missed Gurney, and Duncan, and the cold breeze on your balcony, and getting to roam free and going anywhere you pleased. When the tears come, you sink deep into the bath so they might fade away in the water.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove @mamawiggers1980 @sstardussty @aboutthenabaron

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha fic #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #atreides reader #dune #dune part two #space-mango-company #fic: stranger

[iznsfw]

The Devil's Telephone

IVE's An Yujin x Male Reader Smut

6969 words

Categories | model!Yujin x photojournalist!you, rough sex

Barely edited. Who cares, I did great.

"Is it true? What they say about you?" 

You're nervous, fidgeting  in the king-sized bed with your arm leaning against the mattress. It feels odd to be in a rich and attractive girl's place without being naked. Not that it's something you've experienced before anyway, but it's like breaking an unspoken law everyone but you was oriented to. But you have your manners, and so does she. Supposedly.

She's still beside you, her expensive clothes hiding not her shapely form. And to think it looks beautiful without the need for oil painting all around it or nakedness. That pretty smile, that also intimidates you a little, is the cherry on top of the cake that is An Yujin.

Speaking of, there's one right now between her lips. She's toying with its strand of a twig, tracing the cherry she got from the bowl beside her bed along the pink hills of her luscious mouth.

"After everything I did," Yujin says, "what do you think?" 

"I don't really…" Struggle to find your words. "I, I don't really dwell on—"

"If I'm a slut or not?" Yujin finishes for you, smiling teasingly. 

This conversation's a mistake, now that she's using words about a subject you tried to tread on lightly. "Look, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, I'm sorry."

"No offense taken. I get it."

Yujin lifts herself off her comfortable lounge position on her bed and instead sits on the backsides of her legs. Her hands are on your lap rather than her own. Should've been a sign for you that this is going nowhere but in a downward spiral. 

"You want to know if the rumors are true? If nepo model An Yujin's really a slut, like they all say?"

"Uh… sure?" 

Yujin gestures her chin to your crotch. "Whip out your dick. Then you'll see."

-

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"I'm not," says Gaeul. "Say that one more time and your career's over. No going back."

The small smile that's an everyday accessory to her features is gone. That tells you that what she says is what there is to her statement. What you hear is what you get. There's no underlying tone to it; she's completely serious, and besides, when has Gaeul ever lied?

Wring the looped lace of your camera over your head and place it and the device that can make or break your career on her desk. "Nope," you say. "I'm not doing it."

"You will," Gaeul says. "Nobody else will do it."

"Can't you get Jiwon to show up there?" It's worth a try, right?

"Like I said, no chance. Rei's with her on vacation. And Yunjin is out of the question."

"God fucking dammit." 

Looks like this day can actually get worse. First, you miss the taxi going to the studio, ending up being about an hour late to your meeting. And then the nervous intern almost spilled coffee all over your camera. Luckily, the scalding liquid only ended up mostly on your pressed shirt. It's like the day is toying with your feelings, trying to see how far you can get without breaking down.

Your eye twitches. The day might see your breaking point after all. 

"Gaeul," you say, "I'm a photojournalist, not a fucking Seattle professional."

"And so are a quarter of the people who go to the fashion week," she counters. Gaeul exhales through her nostrils, then leans forward on her desk, hands folded. "All you have to do is stand in for Chaewon and take the photos for each model. Don't worry about the caption."

"How'll I know what they're wearing?" 

"I can do that for you. I'm quite the fashion enthusiast, if I do say so myself."

You don't see the sense in it, like, at all. "Then why don't you go take the photos?"

"Because I don't want to, newbie," replies Gaeul simply. She swings her legs over the table and places her palms behind her neck. "You can sit here all day whining about I'm-a-photojourn-this and I-can't-do-it-that, but you're still going to go through." 

Gaeul's a rather straightforward girl, yet she can still make her blunt words sound frightening. You have to show that you can hold your own, too, and that you're not going to back up. Ever.

"And why do you think I'll give in so easily?" you challenge. 

She smiles. "Because An Yujin's going to be there, and unless you live under a fucking rock, you'd know she's the main attraction."

-

You aren't dumb. Of course you know her. It’s impossible not to know of her when the magazines all scream her name and the camera flashes crave her presence. It’s hard to navigate life without at least seeing a Yujin standee for one of the brands she sponsors or her face on soju labels. She’s become a household name that, even if you somehow wished it to be the other way, she's become an inescapable force in every Korean’s life. That’s just how it works. It’s been like that for as long as you remember.

She rose up in the industry at a young age. Being her age, you can remember the buzz she creates among your classmates, from head-over-heels, hopeless romantic boys and adoring girls (and a few girls who'd die to be able to touch her, too.) She's on their phone wallpapers, in another cutesie pose, and on the photocards in the back of clear cases. She's here, she's there, she's everything everywhere. 

You're familiar with her, but nothing about her except the usual: she's a model, she's an idol, she's a—

Ah, how should it go?

The girl beside you at the event, who's rather tall and if circumstances were different should be on the runway herself, tells you it goes like this: "She's an international free-use backstabbing slut."

Well, you didn't expect Kazuha to say that so easily (she told you her name earlier just so you had something to call her during the mandatory small talk),  but you know what she's talking about. However, you have no right to say Yujin's a slut when you're dressed… well, dressed like this. Your whole outfit is an embarrassing array of rainbow colors. Even your tie's pulled into passiveness by the colorful dress code. If this is what those high fashion enthusiasts call "fashion," you're glad you're not a part of them. You'll be glad to keep shopping at your local thrift store. 

Hence, "I wouldn't put it that way," you say.

Kazuha smirks. "How would you say it?" she asks. 

Why is she so interested in what you think about her? You suspect Kazuha's one of those girls who's rather jealous of the stick-figure models strutting the runway but would deny it with all her soul. Maybe that's it. She's jealous that she sits there in the audience while perfection after perfection makes themselves known to the public. 

"She's…" You snap a pic of another eighty-pound model walking down the runway. "Uh, promiscuous. That's all."

Kazuha grins. She purses her lips and writes down on her notepad, probably intending to use your statement as a headline pun. "Maybe we should switch jobs," she says. "You can be the devil's advocate journalist, and I can be the white knight photographer." 

Exhale loudly. For fuck's sake, you want to tell her, I'm only here to do the job I didn't want in the first place. Why has she chosen you to play with to fulfill her boredom? Whatever game she's set, you're not joining. 

"Look, what is it about Yujin that you hate?" you ask. 

"She fucked Jang Wonyoung, those MCs she used to partner up with, that actress from the period drama who was on Produce, too… everybody."

"Okay." You look at her pointedly. "Source?" 

Kazuha gestures a rude index to the runway. "Look at her. Look at her and tell me she isn't a slut. I dare you."

You look up from the lens of your camera for once, and as much as you'd like to come to Yujin’s defense, seeing as there’s no evidence to all those allegations and being a public figure with all the criticism must be the deepest ring of hell, you see what Kazuha means. 

You hate to say it, and you’d love to pass no judgment, but the prodding journalist is right. Yujin isn't skin and bones like the other models, nor does she wear light makeup. However, her confident gaze that not once settles on the floor immediately makes you think, wow, now that is a model. She only looks forward, stepping onto the smooth floor in heels that make her much taller than she already is. Her eyes are lined with this sharp, blaring dark that makes her brown contacts stand out and makes her look like a black cat. So much for Jiwon’s nickname.

But that isn’t all. It’s far from done, because it’s not Yujin’s arrogant smile that drips of sultriness that confirms Kazuha's allegations for you, nor is it her makeup. It’s what she’s wearing. Her chest nearly spills out of the oddly-cut neckline of her blouse, and it’s see-through, meaning that even if her busty figure is in some way contained by the clothing, you can still see everything. For example, her tummy lined with her abs and a small tattoo (barely noticeable, but enough to cause a few tabloids to freak out); her wide hips, and of course; the bare flesh of her breasts. The fabric tape does nothing to hide them when her brown nipples beg to be seen through the fabric. Each bounce coerced by her confident strut is out there for all to see, and so are the jiggles of her full thighs. 

Which part of everything do you have to immortalize in a photograph? You don’t know. You just keep taking pictures. There’s plenty enough to create a video of her walk without actually having to record one. 

Seeing your dropped jaw, Kazuha grins satisfactorily. “Told you,” she says.

You aren’t done looking, though. As the press and audience scream her name, (they all know her name—she’s bagged so many brand deals, shot more than enough magazine covers, and performed songs you couldn’t count on two hands just so that any type of audience can recognize her), Yujin steps up to the end of the catwalk. She smiles at all the attention, setting a hand on her waist before blowing several kisses to the audience. 

And, of course, she finishes off her umpteenth walk with another scandal:

Shredding her blouse into pieces. Yujin rips it clean from the seams, letting the lost dangle of fabric finally reveal the whole of her chest. Her skimpy shorts are the only thing remaining complete on herself. 

The viewers gasp, and you do, too. But you're hypocrites, the lot of you, for you remain interested in scanning every bit of her enviable body. Secretly, you all know that some part of you were looking there even before her blouse ripped.

You haven’t seen a model do that before, but then again, she’s not just a model. She’s plenty of things: a singer, an idol, an ambassador—

A slut. A full-on, shameless, lives-up-to-her-name slut.

-

“So.”

“So,” you say, resentfully. Your camera’s in your bag, and Gaeul is on the phone with you. You’re proceeding out of the vicinity like everybody else. It's eight p.m.; someone’s bound to be hungry at this hour, and that someone is you.

You can hear the giggle in her voice as she asks you, “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” you say, flabbergasted. Zip up your satchel bag and walk through the rain. “Gaeul, the girl just ripped her shirt off in front of everyone! This isn’t what I signed up for!”

What should you get tonight? Minute Burger? Maybe McDonald’s or some sushi? You’d take anything—you’re pretty hungry after the long show. If this is how hunger hits after shows, you’re glad you don’t have to go through the whole fashion week. By Saturday, you’d be as dead as everyone was after the stunt Yujin pulled.

“I thought you knew about her, newbie,” replies Gaeul. She’s clearly poking fun at your reaction. What’s also clear is the obvious fact that she picked you out for this job just to see how you’d handle it. Would you go crazy? Treat Yujin as a Victorian man who’d just seen a lady’s ankles would? Oh, she’d love to find out.

“I didn’t know she was…"

"Yeah?"

"B-bold.”

“Oh, please be normal about it. You’re a photojournalist. You handled the dead guy who was stabbed alright, but a woman showing her tits is where you cross the line?”

“It’s not that,” you say tiredly. Your stomach is really growling now. “I guess… I think…”

"Hey."

Your phone drops to the wet cement road. Like a haunting phantom, Yujin appears out of nowhere. It's like she suddenly materialized from the fog of the storm.

You don't know where to look. Yujin's still dressed, (somewhat), in her ruined blouse. The thing is even more transparent as the rain beats down on it. Still, she looks perfect. She is perfect. You know that without having to be a fan of her. 

The light from a camera hidden in a beaten bush makes you flinch. If the crouched man in black taking photos of Yujin isn't there, you'd have accepted your fate to get struck by lightning. Yujin raises her eyebrows questioningly, and you're forced to compose yourself once more.

"Uh, hi," you stammer. Bend down to pick your sodden phone up. Darn it, it's dead. How will you contact Gaeul now?

"You're one of the photographers, right?" asks Yujin. Unlike you, she doesn't care that your phone has met its end, or mind that her boobs are out in the open. 

You mutter something of agreement, but you're still tinkering with your phone. The battery's probably broken, which's a pity when your late mother gifted it to you on the last birthday you had together.

"Damn, must be nice to snap photos of a half-naked chick, huh? You liked seeing me up there?" 

That makes you stop fiddling with your destroyed gadget. "I," you say, cornered into confession but still trying to gather a burst of energy to escape, "I'm not—"

"An Yujin," she says, as if the whole world doesn't scream her name. As if she were just another girl out there who's a little too friendly. She doesn't offer her hand; she grasps yours and shakes it firmly. 

You have no other choice but to be acquainted with her there and then. You tell her your name, albeit nervously, as you slip your phone into your pocket. What is she planning? Why is she out here with you? 

Yujin grins. "Nice to meet you. Want to come to a party at my house? Starts when we get there."

Now you understand what she's planning. What else would you expect from her?

First things first, though: where should you look? Her chest is a dangerous option. To look or not to look? That is the question—you choose the second option. Note the dim stars in the foggy sky. Look down at the road blotted with raindrops. Remark inwardly about the state of your shoes and how they're too expensive to be dragged through a weather like this.

Second, should you go? Gaeul would be looking for you. She'd want the pics immediately so she could put them in the magazine and on your company blog site. But you haven't had fun in years, and for a girl with the wealth and status of Yujin, it might be a new beginning.

Work, however, comes first.

"I'm sorry," you tell her. You really are. Yujin seems like a fun girl outside of her wildness. "I don't think I—"

"Great! Come on, I'll drive you!" 

That's how you end up in a limousine for the first time in your life and learn that An Yujin doesn't take no for an answer. 

The seats are dark and soft, and there's two long aisles of it for thirty pax max to occupy. However, despite the spaciousness, Yujin still chooses to sit snugly beside you. Should you feel flattered? Intimidated? You struggle to choose for this question.

You wonder where you're headed. The infamous Jang Hills where celebrities like singer Son Seungwan and model and humanitarian Jang Wonyoung, who owns the place, reside? The rain is too strong for you to be able to see where the vehicle's headed, but you suspect that's the destination. There's no other. 

"So," says Yujin. She's still sitting comfortably beside you. Her smile dimples her cheeks, and it just doesn't match the boldness of her ripped blouse. When she wears that smile, she looks like a girl who's too cheerful and innocent to be… the way she is. "Would I have to pay you to see my photos?"

"For god's sake, Miss An, put on some clothes before you scare the guy," chuckles the driver, shaking his head. He's a tall, dark man with the typical shades and a rosary on his rearview mirror. You wonder if he prays for Yujin sometimes. 

"But that's no fun," she says, the pout on her face growing wider when her driver tosses her a black fur coat (that still reminds you of her when you note how the chest part is gone) and sleeveless innerwear. Seems like he keeps clothes in his car for situations like these. "Clothes are so big and boring, you know. Totally outdated.

"Anyway, about the photos…?" 

"Oh, you don't have to pay," you tell her. But you know that money isn't a problem with Yujin—she can buy you and your whole life if she chose to. 

"Gimme then." She makes grabby hands, and your camera eventually ends up in them. Her eyes sparkle with narcissistic adoration. "Oh damn, I look hot. Delete this, though. Bad angle."

"I– okay." 

"My tits look amazing, don't you think? Come on, say my tits look fantastic."

"Ms. An," says the driver firmly, albeit his tone holds some of the amusement in it still. "Put on some clothes."

Yujin rolls her eyes, but she does. And you watch as she strips, painfully slow. She pulls the soaked blouse above her wet body, showing her bare, beautiful arms and pits. Even her soft midriff is perfect. And, try as you may (must),  you can't stop looking. Several snaps and pinches would be too weak to pull you back into reality, because there's the goddess that she is to look at. You figure out now why your former classmates were and still are obsessed with her. She may be a wild little thing, but she's got an amazing body, an amazing fashion sense. Everything about her, even her boldness, is enviable. Desirable. Unreachable.

The clothes mold to her beautiful shape. The damp, slightly messy hair only adds to her beauty. You can feel yourself getting warm. 

"We're here," says Yujin cheerfully, oblivious to the way your eyes are raking down her perfect body. "Here's your camera. Wouldn't want it to break like your phone. Pity."

Getting up to open the car door isn't part of a wealthy girl's everyday life. Yujin isn’t an exception—she has her driver to do that plus assist her out of the limo, and when he does, you're welcomed into a whole new world.

The rain has halted. Signs of its earlier presence, however, can be seen on the drops on the maze of bushes. There's statues of Eros, gray and mighty with his strong arms and arrows, perched on pedestals to the entrance of the mansion. Through the gate, you catch sight of a large pool, where heiresses and friends of Yujin laugh and swim. It's no land for lowlives. You are the exception, somehow. 

"This… this is your house?" 

"Yep!” She nods positively. “Daddy gave it to me after he died from a heart attack."

"My condolences," you say. As the guards open the gate to Yujin's mansion, you admire the place. It looks like a temple for cupids. Perhaps it’s Yujin they’re worshiping.  "Did he have heart conditions before that?"

"No." She shakes her head then waves happily to one of her friends at the pool. "He just saw me wearing a bra over my crop top, and he dropped dead."

You snort. Yujin looks at you weirdly. That's how you realize she isn't kidding. 

"You're serious?"

She opens her mouth to say something, but forgets it. It's a long story that doesn't need more sequels. 

-

Just the second drink of the night and you’ve met more celebrities than an average person would see personally in their whole life. As the dazzling disco ball shimmers rainbow colors all over the place, you catch sight of more than plenty of pretty and handsome faces. Over there is Jang Wonyoung, one of the models who walked earlier, and Miyawaki Sakura, a famous CEO of more beauty lines than you can count on ten fingers. Whether their beauties are handcrafted or God-given, they all have something in common: they’re all A-listers—they’re relevant, popular, used to this wild lifestyle. Camera flashes have trained them not to flinch at the gliding lights. This is an everyday routine in their book.

However, you’re used to being behind the camera, not in front of it. You’re overstimulated by the sea of laughing, moving bodies and the loud music. While Yujin happily screams and downs several shots, you stand idly beside her, dizzy and tired. 

“I don’t think I can handle more.”

“Past your bedtime?” asks Yujin, grinning. She waves at Wonyoung and points at you, mouthing something to her, to which the model winks in response. You wonder what kind of exchange the two models had that granted an unusually smug look on Wonyoung’s face. You’re certain it’s about you, but you don’t know what it’s about. You’re not even sure if you want to discover it.

“It’s not that,” you say embarrassedly. “I’m… I’m not a party person. I get lightheaded easily.”

“Wanna take a break? Go to my room?”

Now that’s a red flag. It doesn't even try to hide its true color; it waves proudly in front of you. You’re the bull who went straight for it. 

Yujin’s bedroom is the size of your living room, with a large bed to match. Curtained pillars stand on each end while posters hang off the walls. You suppose that the people on them are the ones Yujin looks up to: IU, known as Lee Jieun whenever she ventures out of singing and into acting; Marilyn Monroe (no explanation needed), and a few other nameless models and actresses. A lot are old posters of seventies’ pornographic films. Lights frame the mirror on the dresser table. 

“You’re a privileged girl, miss An,” you say. It’s the only way you can respectfully say that she’s kind of a spoiled brat. But maybe that’s your jealousy talking.

“I know, right?” replies Yujin, twirling around. “And please, call me Yujin. You can sit on the bed if you want to.”

Your mind toys with the idea of the posters on her wall debating if you’re the hundredth person to have come over or the thousandth. Nevertheless, you want to stay neutral; it’s none of your business anyway. So you take a seat on the edge of the softest mattress you’ve ever felt while Yujin does so, too. She kicks her boots off on the carpeted floor. 

“Hey,” says Yujin, “want to play a game before you doze off?”

Just how many red flags does this girl have? “Er, sure.” You shrug. Maybe it’s just a game, nothing more, like she said. 

“Since we barely know each other, let’s take turns asking each other questions. Dibs on the first question.

“I haven’t seen you in shows before. How did you end up there?”

A safe start. “One of my coworkers was sick,” you explain. “I had to fill in for her. My turn.”

“Hit me.”

“Did you take modeling classes?”

Yujin laughs as if it was the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “God, no,” she says. “Classes and workshops are scams. All I had to do was ask my daddy to ask for a spot for me.”

“Must be nice.”

“Right? Did you take classes for photography?”

“I took one of the scams, yeah,” you say, earning a giggle from Yujin. “I’m a journalist first. It’s all I know.”

Meaningful silence fills the air. You remain hooked on your sentence, realizing how true it is. Photojournalism is the only thing you’re good at. It’s sheltered you and brought you so many opportunities at the same time. You don’t know how to find other hobbies to make your forte when you’re stuck in its bubble, and its bubble only. Without your camera, you’re nothing. Without people like Yujin to take photos of, you’re nothing, too. 

You suppose you should break the heavy silence. But you’re unsure if your question should be asked; it might trigger a violent response from her, although she’s been nothing but laid-back with you. And you don’t particularly want a rich girl to ruin your career. You’ve gone so far that the only direction to look at is forward.

But you must learn to take risks.

"Is it true? What they say about you?" 

You're nervous, fidgeting  in the king-sized bed with your arm leaning against the mattress. It feels odd to be in a rich and attractive girl's place without being naked. Not that it's something you've experienced before anyway, but it's like breaking an unspoken law everyone but you was oriented to. But you have your manners, and so does she. Supposedly.

She's still beside you, her expensive clothes hiding not her shapely form. And to think it looks beautiful without the need for oil painting all around it or nakedness. That pretty smile, that also intimidates you a little, is the cherry on top of the cake that is An Yujin.

Speaking of, there's one right now between her lips. She's toying with its strand of a twig, tracing the cherry she got from the bowl beside her bed along the pink hills of her luscious mouth.

"After everything I did," Yujin says, "what do you think?" 

"I don't really…" Struggle to find your words. "I, I don't really dwell on—"

"If I'm a slut or not?" Yujin finishes for you, smiling teasingly. 

This conversation's a mistake, now that she's using words about a subject you tried to tread on lightly. "Look, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, I'm sorry."

"No offense taken. I get it."

Yujin lifts herself off her comfortable lounge position on her bed and instead sits on the backsides of her legs. Her hands are on your lap rather than her own. Should've been a sign for you that this is going nowhere but in a downward spiral. 

"You want to know if the rumors are true? If nepo model An Yujin's really a slut, like they all say?"

"Uh… sure?" 

Yujin gestures her chin to your crotch. "Whip out your dick. Then you'll see."

You’re flustered. Did Yujin—this tall, alluring model that’s got her whole life ahead of her yet nothing to lose, this irritatingly attractive Yujin—really say that to you? Or was it something lost in the swarms of shouts and music from outside of the room? Maybe you’ve misheard. Maybe you’ll keep playing safe tonight. 

But those are just mere maybes with no connection at all to what’s about to happen.

“Can’t do it yourself, pretty boy? Let me help you.”

Yujin lifts your satchel bag from your shoulders. You find yourself raising your arms to help her. It’s like the what and tension in the air have infected you and made you into this heated, lustful character far from the real you, because if this were truly your own self, you’d say you had a career. You’d say this shouldn’t be happening. You’d leave the room instead of helping her unbuckle your belt. You’d do anything but this.

Perhaps she’s changed you.

Yujin slips a tongue along the path of her luscious lips at the sight of your bare thighs and cock. “Our friend here,” she says, “needs a little help from me, no?”

“Yujin…” you moan, and it’s humiliating, especially when barely anything sexual has happened yet. At least, anything sexually physical. 

Luckily for you, she curls her fist around your dick and gives justification to your breathy sounds. Maybe the rumors about how she likes to get around are true; Yujin knows how to work her way with a cock. Her warm fingers jerk your flesh at just the right timing, letting the hardness build up before doing that too with the pace. She’s looking at you with this wild desire in her eyes that grows bigger when your erection does, too. Oh, and that smile—if looks could kill, An Yujin would already be arrested for your murder.

“Now that’s not so bad, is it?” she remarks. She spits on your cock. Her wet saliva coats your length with just enough to let her smooth palm slide along itself pleasurably. “You like this? Just wait until you feel my pussy. Or maybe my lips would do first? The higher ones, I mean.” 

Yujin’s lips descend onto your shaft, welcoming it into an impossibly soft and wet heaven. Yujin’s little tongue flicks at your base gently, even daring to lick at a little part of your balls before working their way up. It deliciously slides upwards at your veins.

“Fuck, Yujin. Your mouth—fuck, it feels so good.”

“Mmm.” Yujin engages in an open-mouthed, sloppy kiss with your tip. “I know. I’d fuck me, too, if I could, but I have you to do that.”

“Right,” you say breathily, because she is. If she’s sucking your cock this well and her cheek’s painfully stimulating as your cockhead brushes it, how much better would her pussy be? You’re definitely fucking her, even if your experience in this is zero. Yes, that’s also right: you’re a virgin. Zero experience, no bitches.

But, if it means anything, it’s the other way around. It’s Yujin making you her bitch. She may be serving you with the lips and kisses of a good girl, but her eyes tell you that there’s more to it than you think. You’re hers, see, for this night, and that’s all you ever will be. You’re no photojournalist anymore—you’re Yujin’s one night stand, and that’s the only achievement people will ever remember to your name.

“These’re so fucking full,” murmurs Yujin as she admires your heavy balls. Sucking on them lightly before smiling up at you, she adds, “Make sure to blow all of it in my face, ‘kay? Promise me.”

“Think you can handle it, Yujin?” you ask, and it’s another embarrassing moment you’ll relive forever, for your cockiness will never get on the level she has. Your voice shakes too hard and your cock drips too much—it’s clear who owns who at this point.

“I’m a big girl.” Unfazed, she smiles. “I can handle myself.”

“Y-you sure?”

“Oh, don’t play hard to get it, baby,” Yujin coos. She pleases you with one hand and glides her fingers on your thigh with the other. It’s deadly. She’s deadly. “Let your guard down. It’s just me.”

“And you’ve said that to how many people?” you shoot back.

“More than you’re worth,” she quips. She winks at you. “Now cum for me.”

Ouch, but it doesn’t matter when her lips provide a great suction to cool the burn. It’s making your cock feel the heat instead, forming the tightness in your stomach more. Her hands massaging your thighs causes your sensitivity to reach an all-time high. Yujin’s covered your shaft in such an amountful that just one lick sends your toes curling. She licks, she sucks, she laps at your weak spots and delights in the upward push of your hips, but her hands keep your legs down. Can’t have her meal escaping. She wants all of your cum, and when Yujin wants (no, needs) something, she gets it. It’s how she’s navigated life, having everything her heart could ever want brought to her by whim. But if she has to work for your cum, then so be it. Either-which-way, she’s not giving up until she gets it.

She kisses your cock deeply, almost making your lips jealous. She sucks on each sensitive side and your dripping tip. What takes the cake, though, is how she downs the whole thing so suddenly, slipping itself inside her tight throat and letting you fuck it. Gasps can’t be contained by your pursed lips, and their cycle of repetition continues because of her. Because of Yujin, Yujin and her stupidly desirable mouth.

“Fuck,” you whine. When she hears that, she pulls away. Like rain, drops of semen make slick landings on her face. You keep expelling several shots of the thing she so desperately wants, and you realize that, even with your own pleasure being fulfilled, you’re still serving Yujin. You’re still giving her what she wants: your cum on her face. The fact that she’s playing with you remains stoic.

“Ah, this is the best.” Yujin licks her cumstained lips. “I could have swallowed it all like I did with these cherries here, but I can’t let it spoil the main course.”

“W-which is?” you inquire, still panting. Can you handle more? 

You find out through Yujin taking off her black vest. Then, she slips out of her jean skirt. It hugs her lower figure so nicely that it nearly makes you mourn their departure, but you find a better thing to gawk at, and it’s Yujin’s ass and thighs. She may have dressed earlier, but the panties were off. She cares not for modesty, even outside of the modeling industry.  It’s just not who she is. 

For that, you’re glad. If Yujin were modest, you wouldn’t have had the chance to see her fat ass and shaven pussy up close. You wouldn’t get to see her sway her hips side to side, letting you see from behind how her ass ripples and bounces, or let you peer at her dripping thighs. 

"You're weaker than all the others," Yujin notes. "I like it."

Should you be offended? Probably, but you aren't, because there's her approval. There's her saying that she likes how easily you break. There's her on the bed with her pussy spread by her fingers, revealing her tiny hole and needy clit.

There's a lot to look at is what you're saying, and a lot to take in consideration. For example—

"Ohhhh, fuck," moans Yujin. She rubs her core and gets a feel of how wet she is. "I'm so wet, see? I'm so, fuck, wet from blowing you."

Yujin leans against one of the pillars of her bed. What makes the sight of her masturbating hotter is that she's still covered in the face with cum that soon drips down her neck and onto her collarbone. She looks like she's been used incessantly, to the point where no amount of cock or finger can help her reach a good enough high. Although you're still sensitive, you begin to jack yourself off to her.

"Shit. Ohhh." Her head tosses backwards and she shuts her eyes. "This feels so good. Make me feel even better. Use your mouth."

It's all about what she wants, but you find out that you also want to put your mouth on her. Stop jerking off to kneel on the floor and place your hands on her thick thighs. You have no idea how to do this except from porn, but she moans loudly when you flick your tongue upwards, so you must be doing well.

Yujin's so wet that she dribbles on her expensive sheets. The feminine scent of her drives you crazy. Due to that, you pick up the pace of eating Yujin out. She's delicious. Better than any expensive meal you got going out. 

"Oh, fuck," mewls Yujin. She grinds her clit down on the flat of your tongue. "That's it. Eat me out like that."

Next, guide your tongue to her slit, catching the juices she has. Push it inside, make her thighs suddenly clamp around your head. Painful, but worth it, because as useful as her makeshift earmuffs are, you can still make out her heavy moans.

“G-good, god, so good. Don’t you stop, don’t you fucking stop.” 

“I won’t.”

The force of your mouth holds nothing back as it holds Yujin’s nub captive. She pulses in your mouth, and you can sense that she’s close because she’s screaming. She's squirming, she's writhing, she's—

“Stop.”

“But I, I thought you said—” You were having such a good time, too. Why did she have to ruin it?

Yujin giggles. “I wanted to cum on your cock,” she confesses. Sweat rolls down the sides of her face. “Let me?”

She’s subtly assertive like that, asking you first before making you do it anyway. She’s so used to getting her way, so used to letting people bend reality into the form she wants. And you’re becoming one of those people, as you lie down on the bed and let her mount you. You don’t suppose anyone would refuse either—her splayed lips rubbing your tip seems like a good thing to have in exchange for being under her ownership.

“Fuck,” you curse. Maybe this is better, in hindsight. Her hole grasps for you, but she teases it by only letting her clit glide along your cock. “Miss An, ah, Yujin, you’re so—”

“Pretty? Successful? Tight?” She sinks down on your dick with a smirk that differs from your weakened look of bliss. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

They’re all perfect adjectives to describe her, but you weigh in the most on the last. Her soaked slit swallows you without time to properly take it in. She just keeps bouncing on you, a millisecond going unspared, as if she’d die if your cock weren’t ramming in her all times of the day. By her desperate moans, you think you’re right. They’re heavy, hanging onto your mind for too long that it just makes you throb harder inside. 

You reach up to grab her tits. The bra-like innerwear she dons blocks you from experiencing the whole of it, and Yujin takes that into consideration, through which she pulls it up her arms and off herself. Her bust now moves up and down freely, looped in your mind like a constant reminder of how lucky you are to have Yujin fuck you. She may get around a lot, but whoever she fucks is like her: a hell of a catch.

 You lift yourself up to suck on their brown nipples. She moans ferally. Her pushing your head deeper into her tits is how you realize you’ve wanted to do this, to suck and play and slap her chest, ever since you saw them be set free on the runway. It’s funny how two mounds of flesh can hypnotize you just like that. You’re trying to defeat the impulse actions they convince you to do, as if they were spiritual entities on your shoulder each to twist your decisions. But both are devils—even from their source, it’s clear that An Yujin is no angel.

“Yes, so good!” she screams. Her eyes are shut as she rides you with an impulse and speed that surely can’t be human. The pleasure she unleashes onto your cock as her pussy clings and gropes it must be the embodiment of the deadly sin of lust itself. It was written before in holy books, preached as a warning in churches. There’s no explanation for how angrily she impales herself with your cock. “Your cock’s too fucking big, I’m going to cum all over it!”

You spank her ass, and the plentiful skin wiggles right back into your hand. Seeing her face twist up into this pained yet blissful reaction inspires you to continue. That and your cock entering and exiting her hole, plus your kisses following the path of her neck makes Yujin go crazy. 

“Fuck me!” She’s fully unhinged when she cums. Her short yet sharp, alliterate downward thrusts of her core leaves red on your thighs. She’s kissing you with this hunger that’s been fulfilled, in a way, but with which comes gluttony. She can’t have enough. She can’t have enough of your dick. It starts to scare you how she’s like the girls your pastor warned you about in Sunday school—she’s a gluttonous nymphomaniac greedy for things that aren’t good for her. Aren’t good for you.

Having sex with An Yujin makes you debate if you should go back to your religious roots and pray again. You’ve heard about the devil hiding behind human faces, and she completely fits the criteria: charming, deceiving, gorgeous beyond human comprehension. However, her divine body also can be something holy. It’s something that’s more than worth worshiping.

Which is which: evil or good? Angel or demon? A goddess who descended to earth or something far, far more dangerous? 

Whichever, you just busted a load inside exactly that. 

-

“So.”

“Hm?”

“Come on, tell me,” you say. Yujin’s teasing banter piques your curiosity to higher levels. “Did you really fuck all those people, or is it just,” shrug, as if you couldn’t care less when you do, “you know, hearsay?”

Yujin strokes your chest thoughtfully. The aftermath of the rough sex has left her almost invalid, but after a shower, she’s good to go. You followed suit after.

“The devil’s telephone,” she whispers.

“Huh?”

“Here. You know where to call me.”

#kpop smut #izone smut #ive smut #an yujin smut #ahn yujin smut #izone yujin smut #ive yujin smut #yujin smut #male reader #x reader #reader insert #pov smut

[sarahscribbles]

I have a Drabble request!

Loki wanting some cuddles from his gf after a rough day. Saying sweet nothings to each other while maybe eating some desserts! Appease the sweet tooth lol

𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐦

Loki x f!reader (can be read as Loki x GN!reader)

Loki Masterlist

AN: Sorry it's taken me 50 years to write this for you! I've kept it as close to the request as I could, but couldn't think of a way to weave in the dessert aspect. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! xx

You know something is wrong from the minute the door closes behind him. It's not a slam, but there's enough force behind the action to make your head snap up from the book you're reading.

He stalks off in the direction of the kitchen without so much as a glance in your direction - that alone is enough to tell you that he's rattled. Exceptionally rattled.

Though, he has just spent the day with Tony in his endeavours to try and fuse Midgardian science with Asgardian magic. Even after all the years that have passed and the many times that Loki has proven himself, there's still barely disguised hostility from the rest of the Avengers towards him. It breaks your heart.

You can hear him aimlessly opening and closing cupboards and drawers in the small kitchen. He's not looking for anything, rather, he's embarrassed. Embarrassed to admit that the jibes and jokes get to him, that he's not the invincible being he'd like you to think he is.

You close your book and set it on the coffee table, ready to give him whatever he needs.

"Baby?" you call and he instantly stills. It's not a term of endearment you use often, only when you know he needs comfort that he won't seek out for himself.

"Yes?" Loki answers, a quiet roughness lacing the single word.

"C'mere," you say gently, already arranging yourself on the sofa.

There's a millisecond of nothing, then you hear the soft rustle of his clothing until he's standing facing you at the other side of the table. His face is expressionless, but you've known him long enough to see the flashes of pain sparking across his eyes and the small flex of his fingers - almost as if he's reaching out for you.

You cock your head to the side and open your arms. "Come here," you tell him, spreading your knees apart on the plush cushions.

You catch the brief second of his lip quivering before he wordlessly moves to settle between your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist and burrowing his head into your neck. You close yourself around him and breathe in his familiar scent.

Home.

"I hope you showed Tony a thing or two today. That man could do with having his ego knocked down a few pegs," your murmur, letting your hand run soothingly along the expanse of his back.

Loki scoffs, his warm breath tickling your neck. "Stark is a pompous ass."

You smile quietly to yourself and press a small kiss into his hair. "He is," you agree, "and he wouldn't have this new Division if it weren't for you. I think he forgets that."

Loki doesn't answer but squeezes your waist in a silent thank you.

You pull him closer and let one hand move to cradle the back of his head. Gentle fingers stroke through his inky curls and you marvel as always at their softness.

"You are extraordinary, my love," you say quietly, continuing to run your hand soothingly along his back. "And Tony will have to recognise that at some point. He won't have a choice."

"You'll forgive me if I don't hold my breath," Loki responds, his voice muffled by how far he's nuzzled himself into your neck.

"Tony will have me to deal with if he doesn't. You know I'm always on your side," you assure him, knowing he needs this more than he'll admit.

There's another heartbeat of silence until you feel Loki's lips press to your skin in a chaste kiss. "I love you," he says simply.

You rest your cheek against his head and he practically purrs with contentment. "I love you. More than you'll ever know."

You keep holding him until his body grows heavy in your arms and his breathing slows down against your neck.

You hold him for as long as he needs you to.

You always will.

Drabble taglist: @cake-writes @the-lady-amphitrite @kinky-faerie @muddyorbsblr @lunarnights95 @fandxmslxt69 @joyful-enchantress @goddessofwonderland @infinitystoner @liminalpebble @ladyofthestayingpower @currish-rosewolfe @loopsisloops @coldnique @fictive-sl0th @mischief2sarawr @simplyholl @mochie85 @littlespaceyelf

#loki #loki fluff #loki x reader #loki imagine

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

We've created a Monster Pt.II

Diavolo laughed at the screen of his DDD, hurriedly gesturing for Barbatos to join him.

'Come see this, Barbatos, Lucifer just shared the most delightful video!'

'I'm sure it must be of great importance for you to neglect your paperwork, my lord.'

Sheepishly, Diavolo turned to screen toward him, presenting the still image of an envy demon dwarfing their powerless exchange student.

'Oh my, lord this image is far from amusing.'

'Trust me, just press play.'

So he did, and was very much not expecting what came next. 'I see, it seems MC has grown rather more capable than I gave them credit for.'

'According to Lucifer they were rather unbothered by the threat, he even called a family meeting to address the event and MC just...laughed them off?'

Barbatos couldn't help but smile. 'How remarkable, expected though. MC has seen demons far more frightening than a lesser envy demon.'

'That's what they said to the brothers, though Lucifer seems to find it far less amusing than we do.'

'I imagine, it is not the sort of scenario he would find at all pleasant. Threat to our young human cause him a great deal of unrest.'

Diavolo grinned a conspirator's smile. 'Just him?'

'...fair point.'

'Why are the incantations so long? I'm trying to light a candle not summon a hurricane.' MC huffed, slouching into the armchair with the grimoire laid open across her thighs. 'It's like a religious text.'

'Magic's way of making sure you mean to get what you're asking for.' Solomon's smile was beguiling, almost sweet, but not.

He's a menace, and no one knows that better than MC, who's been taking magical instruction for him for months.

The sorcerer crossed his legs, flipping through a new spell book MC brought over from Satan. 'So, I hear you had some fun at RAD this morning.'

MC rolled their eyes, reluctantly going back to memorising incantations. 'You too? Does the entire Devildom know about that by now?'

'I'd say so, everyone who matters at least. We haven't told Luke, poor thing would loose his mind if he had actual proof of how dangerous the devildom really is for you.'

'I'm not in any danger, you're starting to sound like Lucifer.' MC huffed. 'Next thing I know you'll be off on a lecture about my lack of self preservation and needing to be careful.'

'I would never, watching you get in trouble is my favourite pass time.' He winked teasingly, kicking his shows up on the coffee table. 'I am curious though, what was going through your head when he threatened you? I remember being a little intimidated the first time a demon tried to kill me.'

'I'm honestly surprised you remember your first anything anymore.'

'Don't change the subject.' Tutted Solomon with that congenial smile of his that was neither friendly nor threatening. 'What were you thinking?'

MC sighed, closing the grimoire and turning their attention to the plate of cookies Luke left for them. 'It was annoying, I went into RAD early to get ahead on a project I was supposed to be working on with Simeon. Could have expected that reaction when I told him Levi wears envy way better. That time he tried to kill me gave me nightmares for days.'

'...MC, how many times have those lunatics nearly killed you?'

'Pfft, you think I keep count? Between Beel's tantrums, Mammon's schemes and just existing in Lucifer's radius I nearly die at least twice a week. It was way more when I first met them though.'

Solomon had to resist the urge to gape. His sense of normal may be a few thousand years past twisted, but this is... odd even for him. A human this young should not be this comfortable with domestic danger, let alone love those who put them there.

Several, times, a week.

MC carries on eating their cookies happily, reaching for another one when their eye catches something on the table, half hidden behind a book, but that beastly silhouette is unmistakeable, and they immediately curl into the chair as though they've been burned.

Pitching a whine to alert the house, their wide eyes fixate on the eight legged monstrosity, arms coiled tight around themselves as their skin immediately begins to crawl and twitch as though being assaulted by hundreds of the tiny beasts.

'What?! What is...oh, hello there.'

Solomon is almost left a aghast all over again. Here sits the most desensitised human he's ever met (besides himself), curled up in a ball, over a spider.

Fair be it a decent sized spider, probably the size of his thumb, but a mere spider nonetheless.

'You looked a 20-foot snake in the eye, you take Cerberus for evening walks with Lucifer...' he trailed off, carefully nudging the arachnid into an empty glass and caging it with a book '...and you're afraid of a spider?'

'Fuckin' right I am! And I'm not going to justify it to you so get rid of it before I set you on fire!'

Solomon laughed, and laughed until he couldn't hold himself upright anymore, wiping a tear from his eye, but when next he looked up, MC was still staring at the spider, eyes so full of genuine terror and brimming with tears, he felt guilt strike him.

'This...genuinely frightens you, doesn't it?'

MC nodded, lip jutted in an involuntary pout, skin raised in goose bumps. 'I wish it didn't.'

'Alright, I'm sorry. I'll get rid of it.'

And he did, and made a point of making sure everyone knew about MC's phobia, and didn't make fun of them for it.

Was it ironic that someone who looked death in the eye and waved was afraid of spiders? Absolutely, but no one chooses fear over comfort, and MC has chosen to be brave one too many times for anyone to begrudge them one or two irrational fears.

#obey me x reader #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me undateables

[neverchecking]

More Sage Hc's

Because I miss him :(

And this is a wonderful half-collab with @angry-trashcan. I love you so very much and thank you for letting me yell ideas at you.

CW: Mentions of child abuse, child soldiers, Zelda slander, Sage

・❥・Welcome back. :)

・❥・So, we've established Sage as his own character at this point. I think it's safe to say he is not Wild. They are similar but two very distinct characters. That is something I'd like to clarify.

・❥・But we'll step into that later.

・❥・For now, let's talk about his entire timeline from start to finish.

・❥・So, Bailey and I talked about his parents and this is the conclusion we came to:

・❥・As everyone knows, Link in the AoC/BotW/TotK timeline was in the knights by a staggeringly young age. Either four or twelve or fourteen. I've seen them all, but I'm not sure if there's a canon age.

・❥・For Sage, we're going with four.

・❥・Now, let's start with his father. Sage's father was in the knights as a commanding officer, which is why he was okay with Link joining the knights. However, because of this a lot more expectations were placed on a very young Sage. And if he failed the punishments were much harsher and much less justified.

・❥・There were nights when Sage/Link was left on the ground outside because his father didn't deem him worth the effort and forbade people from helping him.

・❥・He'd walk past and spit on this terrified child because he didn't live up to expectations. "Your mother would've been so disappointed."

・❥・(shout out to Bailey for ripping out all of our hears with that line.

・❥・Because of this Sage finds much more comfort sleeping outside. Even a a century later, he prefers the comfort of a constant rather than a bedroom he was never allowed the privilege of knowing.

・❥・When he gets his house in Tarrey Town, he builds the stable extension first and slips outside with Epona.

・❥・We also agreed that his mother most likely died during the birth of his sister, which is probably why they had to move out of the Hateno house and closer to the castle, if not on the castle grounds.

・❥・If I had to make an assumption on his mother, she was probably a timid woman that never stood against his father.

・❥・This is really just my lil tidbit but because of that headcanon it's why I made Aaliyah such an abrasive character because I feel Sage would feel too much like his father with someone who reminded him of his mother. Or the little bits he remembers of her.

・❥・Anyway, his mother was probably a seen rather than heard woman,

・❥・Now, you're probably asking about his sister. We decided that she would've ended up as a maid/servant in the castle.

・❥・This is for two reasons:

・❥・One) It adds to hatred Sage has for the Royal Family. As a knight he would've had no choice but to watch this happen and would feel that burning guilt as a bystander, ignoring the fact that he has no choice in the matter. Maybe that's why he fought so hard pre-Calamity. Of course, he still fought because it was his duty, but I also like to imagine he was trying his best to protect his sister before it could ever hit her. Even if it was a fruitless endeavor.

・❥・Two) When Sage remembers this fact, it's probably before Tears of the Kingdom. The bridge between TotK and BotW probably is Link/Sage unravelling a lot of the trauma he tried to ignore regarding the royal family. So this is almost a catharsis to the entire feat. Moreso with Zelda/Natura's reaction.

・❥・She'd be flippant and almost ignorant to the entire ordeal.

・❥・Before anyone comes for my throat, let me explain Natura's character okay?

・❥・So, as far as I'm concerned, Natura hasn't learned anything. She's very much still the same character she was in AoC which is a spoiled individual with little regards to the woes others are facing. She had a tough time, yes I understand that and she was young, but she had no reason to act the way she did with Link. I don't care, argue with the wall.

・❥・She went digging around in the remains of what was left of her people post BotW trying to figure out how the guardians worked. She puts more emphasis on her studies and research rather than her people. Remember this is Natura. Not Zelda. This is my characterization in the same way that Sage is my characterization of Link.

・❥・Anyway, she didn't go looking for a way to solve the Gloom issue, she went looking for a way to capitalize on it. Like the pharmaceutical industry.

・❥・So you can imagine her reaction knowing that.

・❥・"We kept her off the streets like a worthless rat. You should be thanking me."

・❥・Yeah, it's not great.

・❥・So then TotK happens, yadda yada.

・❥・Sage loves animals. Let me get this straight. He's not heartless, he's angry and he's vengeful. Animals never wronged him. He finds comfort with animals as they can't lie to him. He can earn their trust and they'll remain loyal.

・❥・Because Sage is a dangerously loyal man. He still carries the loyalty of the hero's spirit, but it's amplified. Once you're his, you're his forever. Nothing can drag him away from you as he won't let it.

・❥・He's so loyal it turns from a positive attribute to a flaw. :)

・❥・He's possessive and protective and doesn't see an issue with it. Everything else has been torn from his hands but his fingers will be broken and bloody before he lets what's his go.

・❥・I bring up the animal thing just to say Sage gets a dog. You know that stable that closes down in the desert? And how all the stables have stable dogs? Well, this one follows Sage all over Hyrule. And if he goes in the depths thinking he's lost it, the second he's out the dog is sniffing his ass out.

・❥・Yes, he keeps the dog and feeds it the nicest cuts of meat, don't worry.

・❥・It's name is Droolius Caesar.

・❥・Timeline wise, let's talk about that.

・❥・So again, Bailey, and they're gorgeous fucking brain, brought up the idea of him being on a different timeline then Wild. I ran with it.

・❥・I don't see TotK falling on the timeline nicely no matter what we do. Not with the Zonai and not with the other game.

・❥・So what if it doesn't fall on the same timeline as BotW? The same events happen but now it's different.

・❥・Here's how it goes:

・❥・So when Time splits the timeline we get the normal one where, yay! he saves the day! and the other one where he doesn't. Call it the downfall timeline, the fallen timeline, the failure timeline, I don't care. For the sake of argument it's the Fallen Timeline here.

・❥・So there's an idea that the timelines merge somewhere between Wars timeline and Wild's. But let's say they don't. Because the Fallen timeline goes to Legend, then Hyrule. Then what if it doesn't fix itself and just continues. which is where it then leads to Sage's era.

・❥・Only this timeline is on hard mode at all times. Legend's adventures were difficult, Hyrule's era is absolutely brutal, so it makes sense that Sage's is just as hard.

・❥・We toyed with the idea that because this timeline is so hard, the heroes that reign from it are just that much more advanced. It's shown through Legend and then Hyrule, both of whom have wielded the full triforce at one point or another (I think). Somewhere between Hyrule's world however and Legend's, the goddess' didn't like this idea. They didn't like the idea of the hero having this sense of power, so they stripped it away entirely. They knew that somewhere the hero's spirit would be tainted and took away the power that could be used to dethrone them before it could manifest with Sage.

・❥・In turn, the hero's spirit carried on and grew stronger to overcome this. Sage still has the hero's spirit, but it's not like an actual spirit. No, it's more like the fallen hero carrying on and trying to amend for his sins.

・❥・Which Sage hates. He hates it so much, but it propels him before he can stop it. In the beginning of TotK? It's what propels him to jump in after Zelda. After however? The gloom is what finally kills that spirit. Rauru can save him, but fails to save the spirit.

・❥・And from there Sage evolves and arises into the rat we all know and love.

・❥・All of this to give my own lil headcanons on Epona.

・❥・So there's a theory that Malanya (Horse god) Is actually Malon and I like that. (Because she gave Link Epona OG and they sound similar) So in Sage's Era? Guess what?

・❥・Anyway, I imagine Malanya and Sage had a better connection because of this. Malanya goes out of their way to care for Sage and his horse because they feel they failed their Link.

・❥・So Sage gets an Epona in a way to apologize for their first failure.

・❥・Epona is a very good horse <3

・❥・So in the wise words of bailey to end this off,

The hero's spirit is dead. Long live whatever the fuck Sage is.

#yandere linked universe #linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #legend of zelda #yandere legend of zelda #link x reader #linkeduniverse #loz #cinder writes #sage #lu sage #yandere lu sage #lu sage x reader #yandere lu sage x reader #guys he has a backstory now :D

[decolonize-the-left]

Real talk

You know it's funny, the way liberals sound saying "if you don't vote blue then you're allowing project2025 and fascism" sounds just like an abuser saying "it's not My fault I'm hurting you, you're the one who didn't wanna talk to me"

Like actually you could just vote 3rd party. That's an option. Like 63% of Americans would. Most. The majority would.

In fact!

Source

You know what this means?

It means now is the time if you've wanted a 3rd party president. Those are good polls for this early in the campaigns. 20% is a lot of votes.

For perspective: 33% would be the even divide between 3 parties.

Which means the only people in the way...are in fact Democrats. The singular people unwilling to sway from their shitty party.

The rest of us are fed up and are just waiting for an actually good candidate

"if it had votes" they say, holding the votes hostage. Not even all Democrats would have to vote 3rd party if RFK is gonna split republican votes too 👀 just the progressive Dems probably

Like nobody even WANTS Joe. People say it, social media says it, polls say it.

Why are y'all arguing if you meant it when you said "if third parties had more support, I would"

Now is objectively the best time to try risking it.

And before y'all something: Bernie started out by having events in peoples backyards.

You know who made him big? Fill stadiums?

Progressives. Leftists. Socialists.

So don't tell me that we can't do it or there's no chance of it's unrealistic when it's already been done before.

The only reason he lost is because Democrats scared voters with threats of fascism to settle for a conservative democrat. Cuz they said she had the "best" shot of fighting trump.

And you know what happened? She lost. And she wasn't even commiting an active genocide.

But you think that people will stay loyal to the party of the guy currently being referred to as Genocide Joe and Genocidin' Biden?

And Democrats (before at least) agreed on Hilary- progressives wanted Bernie but Dems wanted Hilary, you know? But even those people are now swearing they're never voting for Joe specifically, that they don't know Who to vote for but it ain't blue.

....and I see y'all still trying to push the same tactics and rhetorics expecting it to work the way it has before and no. Y'all can learn right alongside Israel that you're gonna have to step your propaganda game up for that. Cuz we aren't buying it. I'm even making this post half out of posterity to say someone called y'all out.

Wake the fuck up.

Anyone further right than Bernie Sanders does not stand a fucking chance; has no business running. This is me telling you, telling any dem listening.

Just like we meant it when we said we'd rather Not Vote than vote Hillary, I mean I'd rather not vote than vote Biden.

Please don't take this as an invitation to harass me or change my mind. You won't. You wont gaslight me into consenting to genocide. You aren't going to change a LOT of minds. People have watched that genocide play out on our phones for a month. Some of us have fundamentally changed as people and renewed our values and humanity.

And humanity is more important than comfort. Than Democrats.

And this year that won't be something we compromise.

Listen to yourselves ask us otherwise, do you hear yourself? And each time you ask, understand our resolve is stronger because it shows how little you care for human lives.

Understand that's why you'll lose the vote and election. Not because anyone split the vote by exercising their right to vote in a democracy, but because your party is undeniably supporting genocide and it disgusts us to even think about supporting that same party.

For those undecided:

Learn about Claudia de La Cruz. She supports Palestine and her party has organized events for BLM, for Palestine, against ICE, etc. They're politically active, aware, engaged, and on the ground. Most importantly, they have not ever funded or committed genocide. As far as I know they also actively challenge bigotry of all kinds meaning they also fight for women's rights, queer rights, and civil rights.

I think if we rallied behind her like we did with Bernie this would be a piece of cake for her to win. She just needs the voices of support online to get the ball rolling.

#Democrats #liberals #progressive #3rd party #Claudia De La Cruz #2024 elections #usa elections #presidential elections #voting #electoral politics #decol rants a bit

[parrythisucasual]

Jax accidentally picking a nerve with one of his playful insults and then comforting the reader afterwards - I know it's a bit OOC but I need that from him I just know he's got a secret soft side

OKAY DID IT SORRY ITS A DAY LATE D:

NEXT THING IM WORKING ON WILL ME CHAPTER 3 OF MY FULLFIC

PAIRING: Jax x Reader (Romantic)

TW: Bullying (Its Jax)

CONTENT: Jax takes a joke too far and wants to make up for it

Jax was playfully insulting you. You were chuckling a little, each more creative than the last. But when he made a remark about your autism, something about it just made your stomach sink. He didn’t seem to notice your change in demeanor, and it only served to hurt your feelings more.

“Haha… yeah… I'm kinda tired, actually…” you stand and quickly leave, not looking back. You rush towards your room, hearing Jax call out behind you, “Hey, wait! (Y/N)... (Y/N), WAIT!” You know he's faster than you, so you turn around, waiting for him to catch up.

“Hey, why'd you leave like that? You were laughing, what happened?” he asked, sounding rather annoyed you had walked away from him. You rub an arm, shrugging, “I just… you know…”

“Don't try to tell me you're just tired, you literally can't get tired. You're digital. Remember?” he crossed his arms impatiently. You sigh, slowly giving in, “I just… Well, I’m kinda… your joke about…” you try to find the words, “I didn’t like the joke about my autism. It kinda hurt my feelings…”

He seems surprised, “You say stupid things about it all the time?” he mentions. “Well, yeah, but it's different when someone else does it, you know? I'm sorry, I know it’s stupid.”

He then does the unexpected, something you never thought in a million years Jax would ever do. He apologizes. “I didn't know it upset you. Sorry, I’ll avoid that. But don’t go thinking it’s because I like you or anything,” he smiled gently, patting you on the top of your head. He paused a moment, pondering something, then gave you a swift hug before turning away, “later, (Y/N).”

You watch him leave, a tiny grin turning your lips upwards. He was a sotie after all, wasn’t he?

#jax #jax x reader #the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc jax #tadc jax x reader #tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus jax

[xythlia]

𝘉𝘌 𝘚𝘞𝘌𝘌𝘛 𝘛𝘖 𝘔𝘌, 𝘉𝘈𝘉𝘠 𝘍𝘛. 𝘓𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘈𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘕

- ̗̀໒ WARNINGS : TW FOR INSECURITY READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. f!reader, angsty in the beginning, loss of virginity, teasing, nipple play, begging, fingering, oral, mating press, creampie, squirting

- ̗̀໒ WORD COUNT : 2k

req: can we get a insecure virgin reader + levi plz? if ur comfy with it can it go into feel better smut? I've read all your fics on ao3 and I'm obsessed I need more of your writings! xx

Your tears make him feel sick to his stomach.

It breaks his heart, seeing the glimmering saltwater welling and spilling down your cheeks in damp tracks. Your lip wobbles as you sniffle while your hands shakily grasp his forearms, further widening the canyon opening in his gut.

"Why are you upset?" His voice is soft, trying his best to be soothing and not spook you. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel like he's coming towards you confrontationally.

"I feel," you hiccup, "I feel like you just don't like me- like that." The way your words dissolve into more tears.

It's a helpless feeling, not knowing why you feel this way or what to do about it. He knows he has a tendency to get lost in something, tunnel vision on whatever new release is happening or whatever game he's immersed in, but to know he made you feel so unimportant in the process? He thought you could see through all that, but maybe he'd just assumed rather than ever have a conversation about it.

His mind is racing, tripping over itself as his own hands shake. How long were you carrying this feeling? He felt like a fool, he was a fool; shamelessly failing you.

Yet, he's doing it again, staying silent for far too long and falling inside himself, leaving you to crumple against your mattress. You push him away as he attempts to hold onto you, console you. Instead wailing, "Am I not what you wanted?"

You feel stupid, humiliated, just wanting the earth to open underfoot and swallow you into it's depths. Anything to get away from this feeling. You were human, and he's been surrounded by the most beautiful inhuman beings for eons how could you believe you could compare?

Softly he places a hand to your back, fingers stroking up and down your spine in a deliberately comforting manner. "I... You're everything I wanted. I want you all the time, always, I want to be with you every second of every day. I feel real jealousy towards the people who are with you in moments that I'm not," you hear the hitch in his voice, "I think you're the best thing that's been in my life."

His face is aflame by the time you turn around, no longer feeling the need to hide so urgently. Not when he's just made himself, finally, vulnerable to you. "Do you really mean that?"

He swallows thickly, but his eyes never stray from yours and his hand comes to tightly lace your fingers together against the mattress.

"I really do. I just... You know how sometimes when things feel like they're going really well, say a sunny day happened- you don't bother to check the weather," his voice becomes smaller as he squeezes your hand, "but when the sun's out at midnight, you should be checking. I should've checked on you. Should've been less selfish all the time. I'm sorry-"

His words are cut off in a low groan of surprise as you throw yourself against his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face against his skin. "I love you, it's not all on you. I should've- I should've said something, even just once."

His arms come firmly around you as you continue, "I just... I just want you to love me, too."

"I do love you," he murmurs against the side of your head, pressing his lips there just for that moment of closeness.

"Why haven't you shown me?"

That gives him pause. "What do you mean?"

It almost stumps him, truly. He makes sure to kiss you, always be there with you when he can, helps you with anything you need-

"You never try, you know, touching me," your voice is suddenly shy. "Haven't you wanted to?"

His breathing almost stops as you grasp his wrist tenderly, clearly giving him the space to pull away and say no if he wishes, but he doesn't. Instead watching with bated breath as it disappears beneath your shirt, feeling your warm skin under his fingertips.

Even when you draw your hand away, his remains, gingerly moving upward over your belly before stopping, letting the curve of his thumb and index rest beneath the swell of your bare breast.

You hum in approval, gently tugging him down as you let yourself fall back against the bedspread and pull him into a heated kiss, full of sudden desperation.

You nip at his bottom lip while he draws his hand back down, only to tug on the hem of your tshirt, prompting you to prop up on your elbows as your chest is exposed to the evening chill. When his lips wrap around one of your hardened nipples your head tips back with a groan, enjoying the feel of his tongue sliding over the bud.

Quickly you become restless, whining and moving your legs in an attempt to accommodate your fastly dampening underwear. You can feel the nerves standing on end, making you squirm even more and cueing Levi to slide his other hand down past the waist of your pajama pants.

The tips of his fingers rest just before he'd reach your slick folds, making your clit pulse in anticipation. You're trembling, trying to gasp out how badly you just need him to touch you or you might go insane.

It could've been hours with how much he was teasing you, coming up to slide his tongue between your lips and dipping back down to alternate attention between your breasts. That hand, however, remained still inside your panties.

You rutted your hips brazenly, not caring for anything but relief now, but he evades it. Always managing to move his hand ever so slightly so as to not touch you. The pressure was reaching its boiling point, your clit ached so fiercely it left you with fresh tears gathering in your waterline.

Finally as your eyes meet, his fingers slide through your slick folds and you nearly sob at the sensation. The sticky noises as he slides two fingers inside you, prodding your warm walls, and keeping steady pressure on your clit with his thumb makes you feel lightheaded. Still, you don't look away from him.

He's drinking in every expression like a fine wine: your pupils blown out and glassy, lips moving in moans and whimpers, the flex of your neck muscles wishing to tip back.

The feeling in your gut is akin to a spring loaded coil, just reeling and reeling further back with every swipe of his thumb over your clit and every curl of his fingers. The sheer intensity of the environment between you two makes that coil suddenly snap, causing you to break eye contact and wail in ecstasy.

Your thighs shake and your hands come to claw at his back furiously, mind going numb as you feel your bottoms growing wetter the more you writhe in the pleasure high.

As your orgasm slowly dissolves, rose colored world coming into focus when you open your eyes, your legs still tremble with aftershocks as his hand pulls out of your bottoms. You're floating, delightfully boneless as he leans back and tugs them down your legs.

His mouth waters at the glossy mess between your legs, watching the way you throb around nothing. All thought ceases when he shimmies down on his stomach between your legs, warm breath on your thighs sending a shiver down your spine.

His tongue slowly rolls from his lips while you're stuck still, eyes unable to look away, before licking a fat stripe up your messy cunt. He holds your folds open before going back in, tongue prodding your entrance and making your eyes roll back in your head.

He's a panting, moaning mess as he devours you and there's nowhere else he'd rather be than between your legs. Lithe fingers brush against your clit once more, relishing in the way it makes you squeal from above. He presses his tongue flat against it, feeling overjoyed at the way it tears an even bigger reaction from your body.

Something shifts, he wants, no needs, all of you right now or he feels like he may very well die. That thought is what has him shooting up, tugging his pants off and letting his throbbing cock smack against his abdomen as it springs from his underwear. Quickly he shuffles back between your legs, sliding his cock in between your sloppy folds.

You reach down to hold your legs open, mind switched off and only chasing the base instinct for complete intimacy with him. Slowly he presses forward, rocking his hips slowly before his cock fully nudges inside you. Your legs spasm as it does, fighting against the overstimulation as you gasp out but don't call for him to stop. Slowly he slides inside you until your hips are flush, once again watching your expressions. You look like the picture of bliss, chest heaving with full breaths and adjusting to the new sensation of being full.

It nearly renders him shocked as you cup your breasts, kneading your flesh and your hips grind up so that you're using him.

He lets you, holding your hips for support because honestly it's the hottest thing he's ever witnessed. You getting yourself off with his cock, like it was a toy, sets his head spinning. Your moans rise and rise as your pace becomes messy, frantic. Your back arches and your pussy clenched around him so firmly it makes him draw in a sharp inhale. It's beyond beautiful, watching you completely lose yourself and fall apart on his cock.

In your pleasure chasing daze you stop holding your legs up, letting them fall sharply and he eagerly chases after you, folding your legs up and pounding into your hungry cunt while one of your hands fists in his hair. He's never had the privilege to feel something this incredible, hearing you chant his name like a mantra and the sound of skin slapping in some perverse harmony.

He's clenching his jaw, unable to take his eyes off you as he feels you clamp down once more. It's only slightly jolting to feel liquid spray his abdomen but it doesn't make him slow down, if anything it only encourages his thrusts to become deeper and messier before slowing. Relaxing into the feeling of your pussy and his cock throbbing in time while he fills you to the brim with warm, opaque fluid.

He's certain you could never doubt his devotion again after tonight, and he'll make sure to see you fall apart and to fill you up again and again from here on. It's a promise on repeat in his mind as you both slow, coming to lay still against one another as you catch your collective breath.

Gently you release your grip on his hair, fingers lazily sliding through the strands instead as he presses his ear over your heart, just enjoying the afterglow especially with such an intense series of events tonight.

"I love you," he whispers into your skin, arms sliding beneath you as he relaxes further against your body.

#obey me smut #leviathan smut #obey me x reader #leviathan x reader #obey me x female reader #om! leviathan #obey me levi smut #obey me leviathan #obey me imagine #obey me shall we date #om smut #x reader #꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ kita writes

[luveline]

hi jade! i hope you are doing well! could i request a shy reader x eddie blurb where the reader is afraid to tell eddie she loves him?? thank you 🫧🤍

hey!!!! this may be my softest eddie yet, ty for ur request! this is very established relationship/domestic bliss ♡ shy!fem!reader | 0.9k words

The plastic of the toilet seat lid bends under your weight. You shift until it feels safe. 

"Here," Eddie says, holding out your toothbrush. He's already squeezed toothpaste onto the bristles. 

"Thanks." 

You brush your teeth. Eddie brushes his own in front of the mirror, though his sights are on the dark tarnish staining the cold faucet rather than his reflection. He prods at it with his finger and then glares when it doesn't come off. 

You watch a drop of water from his wet hair snake down his temple. It's startling how handsome he is sometimes, especially when he's in motion. Dark brows pulled down in his frustration and eyes that are usually so meltingly soft creased. 

You smile around your toothbrush. 

Eddie spits, runs the water and then looks at you inquiringly. "What is that?" 

You shrug, get up to spit yourself and rinse your mouth with mouthwash. He bends at the waist and examines the mystery tarnishing with a growing frown. You slip the hair tie that you usually keep for him around your wrist down to your fingers and stand at his side to pull his wet hair back into a loose ponytail, just until he's finished whatever it is he's doing. 

He sighs. "I hate that. What is that?"

You laugh softly. "I don't know what it is." 

"Huh." He straightens up and seems to realise for the first time that you've tied his hair up. "Thanks, babe." 

You feel a little shock of pleasure that quickly fades, because all week you've been trying to tell Eddie you love him, and every day you've failed. It should be easy. It feels easy to love him, so why does telling him feel as surmountable as climbing Everest? 

You wipe a little spot of toothpaste foam from the corner of his mouth and let him half carry you to bed. 

Under the covers, it only feels harder. You won't sleep for hours; Eddie's getting comfortable against the pillows with a paperback and you're getting comfortable by his side, body curled towards him like a half of a heart. That's a lot of time to prepare yourself. Gather your courage, like he'd say. 

"What chapter are we on?" you ask quietly. 

"Fourteen. I'm gonna read the last bit again, I think you were too far gone last night to hear any of it," he says, just as quietly as you'd spoken but with a teasing lightness. 

He reads to you. His arm curls behind your head and his hand rubs the slope of your shoulder, at first with determination. As he grows immersed he forgets to do his voices, and his stroking of your skin becomes softer, slower. 

"'The passageway opens. Morgan creeps toward the glowing seam and feels the impossible heat of day breaking over her skin, a warmth that seeps into her chilled skin both blessed and deeply unnerving. How can it be warm? she hears someone ask. 

"'Morgan wonders the same thing. How can a heat blossom from the deep? How can the sun bloom from the Earth? She presses her hand to the soft wood of the passage's door. She doesn't look back as she enters.'"

"What's down there?" you ask. 

Eddie squeezes the top of your arm. "I don't want to ruin it for you." 

"Give me a hint?" 

He can't resist your pleading, not when you're whispering and looking up at him so earnestly. 

"It's a fallen star." 

Your eyes widen almost imperceptibly. "A fallen star?" 

"I can't tell you anymore!" he protests. "It'll ruin the story." 

You huff in defeat and crawl closer toward him, laying so the side of your face kisses his chest. You close your eyes. "Okay. Read more to me." 

He cranes his head to kiss the top of your head. "Yes, ma'am." 

His voice is unlike any voice you've heard before. Tired, it takes on a gravelly quality that you adore, and his chest reverberates under your ear. You draw closer still until you can hear his heart's rhythm. 

You're not sure how much time passes. 

He's everything you've ever wanted. You look up at him and move the book out of the way so you can see each feature clearly, intent on telling him. 

You're terrified, but he deserves to know. 

"Eddie, I love you." 

He lets the yellowing paperback he'd been reading from fall to the sheets. His cheek inches toward his shoulder, his eyes plainly adoring as he brings his hand to your face. 

"I love you, too. More than anything, yeah?" 

You nod and lift your chin. "Yeah," you agree, pressing your lips to his. 

It's a shorter kiss than you'd imagined for this moment. Next thing you know he's pulling you up the length of his chest to trail kisses from the corner of your lips to just under your jaw. When he gets there he gives you a slow, nearly aimless kiss, stroking your back as he goes. You melt.

He laughs under his breath and encourages your head back to meet his eyes. "Don't fall asleep. I'm trying to show you how much I mean it." 

You nod again, suddenly feeling wide awake. 

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #fem!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction

[idyllic-affections]

what if kaveh adopted a child?

summary. kaveh adopts a random child.

trigger & content warnings. implied past trauma.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. comfort, found family. kaveh & child!reader. 0.6k words. they/them pronouns used for reader.

author's thoughts. hehe kaveh <3 this was written before the fontaine release, so i dont know how villainous focalors may or may not be but i implied her to be a lil bit villain-like. anyway i probably wont expand upon this one, this brainrot is just a silly little thought i had

kaveh is a man with a heart much too big for his chest.

alhaitham can't really say he's surprised when kaveh tries to sneak in an orphaned, seemingly nonverbal child barely any older than six or seven. they're clinging to the blonde like a lifeline, face buried in his neck and little hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. given how frail they look...

"quit staring. they came from fontaine," kaveh scoffed, one of his hands absently toying with the tips of their knotted hair, "if you must know."

there's a little bit of surprise on alhaitham's face at that—a child that small ran all the way from fontaine to sumeru city? did they communicate that to kaveh, or did he just assume based on their attire?—but it washes away quickly as he turns back to his book. kaveh almost dares to think he'll get off easily at his roommate's brief silence. he should've known better. just as he starts to walk away... "you can't keep them."

what alhaitham doesn't know is that they avoided so, so many others in sumeru city but approached kaveh because they felt safer approaching him rather than anyone else.

it annoys him beyond belief that the scribe fails to understand how intuitive children are (he's far too petty to admit that maybe it's because alhaitham doesn't know what happened, that he wasn't there to witness such a sweet little one approaching him while flinching away from others). they approached kaveh because, in their mind, he felt safer than other people.

there's no way in hell he's abandoning them.

"it's not your choice to make."

"it's my house."

"what do you suggest i do, then?!" he snaps, quickly regaining his composure when the little one in his arms trembles. a sense of guilt weighs on his chest; the poor thing must be exhausted, hungry, and possibly even sick or injured. they don't need any more stress. as infuriating as alhaitham can be... the blonde is more concerned with the child. kaveh's voice lowers significantly as he continues, "i'm not going to just leave them on the streets in a foreign nation."

"oh, i don't know," alhaitham muses, "maybe head to fontaine and find their parents?"

"gone."

both of the roommates fall silent at the little, meek voice. they peek upwards at kaveh.

a sense of calmness washes over them at the gentle, sympathetic expression on his face. he... looks like he could cry for them, actually. they don't have the capacity to completely understand the extent of the architect's empathy quite yet, and so, instead of trying to process why he looks so utterly bothered, they settle on laying their head back on his shoulder. he makes a very nice pillow.

"they're, um, gone," they repeat again, a little louder so the objectively scarier man could hear them with clarity. despite their sleepiness, they do their best to speak clearly and steadily. "l— lady focalors took them."

"...take them to gandharva ville."

kaveh doesn't reply to that, merely walking past his roommate and heading towards the bathroom to run a warm bath for them.

he knows he should. he's busy and won't be able to provide such a fragile thing with the care and attention they need to grow properly, not to mention his looming debt. he also knows that tighnari and collei and all the other forest rangers would take very good care of them until he rids himself of debt or until they're old enough to care for themselves. he knows, but... he just doesn't want to get rid of them. it pains kaveh to even think about doing something like that.

...

archons... he sincerely hopes that he can get rid of his debt and do it fast.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion brainrots 🌸 #: [ adoptive dad kaveh! 🌸 ] #favoniuslibrary #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin impact #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you #genshin x reader #genshin child reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x child reader

[hvnlydemon]

Hi! I wanted to celebrate returning to writing after a super long break by post a few things I worked on while I was away! Especially with how the series ending left me feeling 😭

☆ armin/fem reader

☆warnings! angst, insecurity, nipple play, teasing, begging, vaginal fingering, oral sex, creampie

Your tears make him feel sick to his stomach.

It breaks his heart, seeing the glimmering saltwater welling and spilling down your cheeks in damp tracks. Your lip wobbles as you sniffle while your hands shakily grasp his forearms, further widening the canyon opening in his gut.

"Why are you upset?" His voice is soft, trying his best to be soothing and not spook you. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel like he's coming towards you confrontationally.

"I feel," you hiccup, "I feel like you just don't like me- like that." The way your words dissolve into more tears.

It's a helpless feeling, not knowing why you feel this way or what to do about it. He knows he has a tendency to get lost in something, but to know he made you feel so unimportant in the process? He thought you could see through all that, but maybe he'd just assumed rather than ever have a conversation about it.

His mind is racing, tripping over itself as his own hands shake. How long were you carrying this feeling? He felt like a fool, he was a fool; shamelessly failing you.

Yet, he's doing it again, staying silent for far too long and falling inside himself, leaving you to crumple against your mattress. You push him away as he attempts to hold onto you, console you. Instead wailing, "Am I not what you wanted?"

You feel stupid, humiliated, just wanting the earth to open underfoot and swallow you into it's depths. Anything to get away from this feeling. You were human, and he's been surrounded by the most beautiful inhuman beings for eons how could you believe you could compare?

Softly he places a hand to your back, fingers stroking up and down your spine in a deliberately comforting manner. "I... You're everything I wanted. I want you all the time, always, I want to be with you every second of every day. I feel real jealousy towards the people who are with you in moments that I'm not," you hear the hitch in his voice, "I think you're the best thing that's been in my life."

His face is aflame by the time you turn around, no longer feeling the need to hide so urgently. Not when he's just made himself, finally, vulnerable to you. "Do you really mean that?"

He swallows thickly, but his eyes never stray from yours and his hand comes to tightly lace your fingers together against the mattress.

"I really do. I just... You know how sometimes when things feel like they're going really well, say a sunny day happened- you don't bother to check the weather," his voice becomes smaller as he squeezes your hand, "but when the sun's out at midnight, you should be checking. I should've checked on you. Should've been less selfish all the time. I'm sorry-"

His words are cut off in a low groan of surprise as you throw yourself against his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face against his skin. "I love you, it's not all on you. I should've- I should've said something, even just once."

His arms come firmly around you as you continue, "I just... I just want you to love me, too."

"I do love you," he murmurs against the side of your head, pressing his lips there just for that moment of closeness.

"Why haven't you shown me?"

That gives him pause. "What do you mean?"

It almost stumps him, truly. He makes sure to kiss you, always be there with you when he can, helps you with anything you need-

"You never try, you know, touching me," your voice is suddenly shy. "Haven't you wanted to?"

His breathing almost stops as you grasp his wrist tenderly, clearly giving him the space to pull away and say no if he wishes, but he doesn't. Instead watching with bated breath as it disappears beneath your shirt, feeling your warm skin under his fingertips.

Even when you draw your hand away, his remains, gingerly moving upward over your belly before stopping, letting the curve of his thumb and index rest beneath the swell of your bare breast.

You hum in approval, gently tugging him down as you let yourself fall back against the bedspread and pull him into a heated kiss, full of sudden desperation.

You nip at his bottom lip while he draws his hand back down, only to tug on the hem of your tshirt, prompting you to prop up on your elbows as your chest is exposed to the evening chill. When his lips wrap around one of your hardened nipples your head tips back with a groan, enjoying the feel of his tongue sliding over the bud.

Quickly you become restless, whining and moving your legs in an attempt to accommodate your fastly dampening underwear. You can feel the nerves standing on end, making you squirm even more and cueing Levi to slide his other hand down past the waist of your pajama pants.

The tips of his fingers rest just before he'd reach your slick folds, making your clit pulse in anticipation. You're trembling, trying to gasp out how badly you just need him to touch you or you might go insane.

It could've been hours with how much he was teasing you, coming up to slide his tongue between your lips and dipping back down to alternate attention between your breasts. That hand, however, remained still inside your panties.

You rutted your hips brazenly, not caring for anything but relief now, but he evades it. Always managing to move his hand ever so slightly so as to not touch you. The pressure was reaching its boiling point, your clit ached so fiercely it left you with fresh tears gathering in your waterline.

Finally as your eyes meet, his fingers slide through your slick folds and you nearly sob at the sensation. The sticky noises as he slides two fingers inside you, prodding your warm walls, and keeping steady pressure on your clit with his thumb makes you feel lightheaded. Still, you don't look away from him.

He's drinking in every expression like a fine wine: your pupils blown out and glassy, lips moving in moans and whimpers, the flex of your neck muscles wishing to tip back.

The feeling in your gut is akin to a spring loaded coil, just reeling and reeling further back with every swipe of his thumb over your clit and every curl of his fingers. The sheer intensity of the environment between you two makes that coil suddenly snap, causing you to break eye contact and wail in ecstasy.

Your thighs shake and your hands come to claw at his back furiously, mind going numb as you feel your bottoms growing wetter the more you writhe in the pleasure high.

As your orgasm slowly dissolves, rose colored world coming into focus when you open your eyes, your legs still tremble with aftershocks as his hand pulls out of your bottoms. You're floating, delightfully boneless as he leans back and tugs them down your legs.

His mouth waters at the glossy mess between your legs, watching the way you throb around nothing. All thought ceases when he shimmies down on his stomach between your legs, warm breath on your thighs sending a shiver down your spine.

His tongue slowly rolls from his lips while you're stuck still, eyes unable to look away, before licking a fat stripe up your messy cunt. He holds your folds open before going back in, tongue prodding your entrance and making your eyes roll back in your head.

He's a panting, moaning mess as he devours you and there's nowhere else he'd rather be than between your legs. Lithe fingers brush against your clit once more, relishing in the way it makes you squeal from above. He presses his tongue flat against it, feeling overjoyed at the way it tears an even bigger reaction from your body.

Something shifts, he wants, no needs, all of you right now or he feels like he may very well die. That thought is what has him shooting up, tugging his pants off and letting his throbbing cock smack against his abdomen as it springs from his underwear. Quickly he shuffles back between your legs, sliding his cock in between your sloppy folds.

You reach down to hold your legs open, mind switched off and only chasing the base instinct for complete intimacy with him. Slowly he presses forward, rocking his hips slowly before his cock fully nudges inside you. Your legs spasm as it does, fighting against the overstimulation as you gasp out but don't call for him to stop. Slowly he slides inside you until your hips are flush, once again watching your expressions. You look like the picture of bliss, chest heaving with full breaths and adjusting to the new sensation of being full.

It nearly renders him shocked as you cup your breasts, kneading your flesh and your hips grind up so that you're using him

He lets you, holding your hips for support because honestly it's the hottest thing he's ever witnessed. You getting yourself off with his cock, like it was a toy, sets his head spinning. Your moans rise and rise as your pace becomes messy, frantic. Your back arches and your pussy clenched around him so firmly it makes him draw in a sharp inhale. It's beyond beautiful, watching you completely lose yourself and fall apart on his cock.

In your pleasure chasing daze you stop holding your legs up, letting them fall sharply and he eagerly chases after you, folding your legs up and pounding into your hungry cunt while one of your hands fists in his hair. He's never had the privilege to feel something this incredible, hearing you chant his name like a mantra and the sound of skin slapping in some perverse harmony.

He's clenching his jaw, unable to take his eyes off you as he feels you clamp down once more. It's only slightly jolting to feel liquid spray his abdomen but it doesn't make him slow down, if anything it only encourages his thrusts to become deeper and messier before slowing. Relaxing into the feeling of your pussy and his cock throbbing in time while he fills you to the brim with warm, opaque fluid.

He's certain you could never doubt his devotion again after tonight, and he'll make sure to see you fall apart and to fill you up again and again from here on. It's a promise on repeat in his mind as you both slow, coming to lay still against one another as you catch your collective breath.

Gently you release your grip on his hair, fingers lazily sliding through the strands instead as he presses his ear over your heart, just enjoying the afterglow especially with such an intense series of events tonight.

"I love you," he whispers into your skin, arms sliding beneath you as he relaxes further against your body.

#armin x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot x reader #armin arlet x reader #armin smut #armin aot #aot imagines #attack on titan x reader #🩷 hvnlysmut