#@the blogs i follow... this is my first time really doing something like this

[sicvitaest27]

I’d like to give my two cents on this subject, as an author myself.

Honestly, I consider myself quite a free speaker, and will ask if I have something to ask, just as I’ll comment, when I have something to comment. Also, when I’m done with the story, I’m more than happy to give feedback.

Of course, I understand that one of the beautiful things about writing WIP s is that real time interaction with readers, as the story progresses. But, for me personally, I do find myself waiting for the story to continue, without having the need to input anything. Not because I don’t care about the story, just because I understand what is going on, the direction, and everything else is just explained well, so there’s nothing really prompting me to ask anything, for it would, probably, be spoiler territory.

Now, of course, theories and whatnot are always welcome, but, there’s only so much theories that can be made about a story; and that heavily depends on how vague the story is being written, and don’t even get me started of people guessing and guessing, and then, by so many guesses, finish the story before you even get a chance to conclude it yourself. That’s a totally different can of worms, that I do not want to get myself into at the moment😂

Now, when an author explicitly asks a question to the readers, sure, it is always a welcome thing to answer, but, it should be considered that, unless they have enabled the notifications from a specific blog, chances are, that, if they follow a lot of blogs and people, they simply won’t see it, and for the ones that do, not all of them will feel the urge to respond. Why? I don’t know, that’s just their preference, and the reasonings are their own, and that’s okay. That’s how it is.

I’m relatively close to submitting a story of my own, and honestly, I would love to have interaction with the readers, for them to tell me how did they like the story, the characters, but I understand if they don’t, because, 9 times out of 10, I first, don’t find myself having the need to give constant feedback, and if that’s the case for me, I can’t put different expectations onto others.

But that’s just normal. That’s why you see games on steam, that everyone knows have sold millions, yet have only 300 reviews, or IF s on steam, that have authors on tumblr, and they are writing a second book for their IF, and there’ll still be barely any questions about it, or any theories.

Would I want for the community to be more active? Absolutely, but only because I want people to have a good time, and to feel free to have that good time, without thinking that they’re going to be subjected to whatever. But, if they are still here, following along, then that’s fine too, and that shouldn’t affect the authors, because, I understand that it’s always good to get that engagement, because that tells you that you’re doing something that’s worth doing, worth more than you may initially think, but, as an artist, you should do it because of yourself, first and foremost.

This is not a rant, and this is not a comment made against anyone who feels differently than what I just said; you’re justified in that, and I do feel you, trust me, but, as long as people want to stick around and enjoy your stories, then I say let them! And, if they wish to talk to the brilliant mind behind the story, then by all means, but I don’t see a point in trying to force something to do that. Because, even encouraging can be viewed like that, and I doubt that any of us want that.

So, to conclude this, yes, the community may have gone a tad bit quieter, and the reasons for that are unknown to me, but, should that change? Hopefully, but if not, then hell, it is what it is. There are certainly many factors and reasons that can be taken into account for that, but, what I advocate for, is for people to be comfortable and have a good time. And for authors, to do this because they truly like doing it, and, as Toni Morrison had put it, “If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” That’s how I view my writing. No one’s written this, in this specific setting or this specific way, with these specific characters, and so, I shall write it, and if people like it? That’s just icing on the cake.

Anyhow, to all my fellow authors, I feel you, I truly do, but hey, things change the way they do, but that shouldn’t demotivate you. People will express themselves when they wish to do so, for reasons only they have, and that’s also fine as well. Hopefully, folks will get more comfortable, for the IF community is a lovely community, which offers a safe space for everyone, but, if they just wish to follow along, let them. It’s all you can really do. Cheers to everyone, and love to all🥂��

I think a lot of authors have noticed this lately: Likes, comments, reblogs with reviews... everything seems to be getting quieter. Stories go on, chapters come out, but all too often, it's a great silent nothingness that greets them.

Are we at fault, or is it something else? Yet you're there, we can see you raising the view counters on our demos.

I'm not here to lecture or beg for anything. I'd just like to understand, as many other authors do, why ? Because this statement is the result of a growing concern? Depression?among our ranks. To the degree that some of us have come to say: What's the point?

I'd just like to remind you of one thing: a story is alive, yes, but ! It's alive thanks to you, not just to us.

Every word you read, every emotion you feel, every theory you silently formulate: it's all part of the magic of a story, and it needs to be shared. When you share it all, a comment, a reblog with a fews words, even a brief reaction, that's when it really comes together, you're blowing on the story's flame! You fuel it, make it tangible. You give it a life that an author, alone in front of their screen, can't always sustain over time. Believe me, we try... Some are more gifted than others, but I'm all for helping each other.

Because yes, we write out of passion, out of desire, out of need. Yes, we love our worlds. But the impetus, the joy, the motivation, the feeling of really being read, all that is also born from exchange.

So here it is, just a quick note to say that if you like or don't like something, please say so. No need for a big dissertation but there's nothing worse than silence, it's the great reaper of our aspirations and I don't want to let it win.

And to my author friends: you're not alone. 💙

[letsgobarbs]

Heyyyy. Heard a lot of murmurs about how my “clique” started the AI witch hunt. And I stand by what I did. Something tells me that if a white woman had done what we did, they would be hailed the fandom hero. But I digress.

Since many of you seem uninformed, it was this post that introduced us to an AI scanner. There are many like it, there’s this one too. AI scanners utilise AI Technology— analytical AI to be specific. However, it is still considered to be a new and unreliable technology. Why wouldn’t it be? Gen AI itself is a new and unreliable technology. How would any scanner be able to track something that is unreliable and unpredictable itself. There were two blogs who were pointed at for blatantly only posting AI fics— one of them posted 148+ fics in a month, and another that posted over 20 in a week. This was pretty telling, since it is humanly impossible to do. Moreover, they were checked through both scanners linked above.

Now, anybody with rudimentary knowledge of AI would know that AI models need to be trained. Hence, to put out a fic it needs to be fed works written by other authors. THIS IS STEALING. And it is also why many AI-written fics are getting harder to spot, because far too many fics have been fed into models to train them that AI is generating work anybody else could have written at first glance. Many authors, most notably auteurdelabre, have left since their work has been fed into AI and essentially stolen from them.

There were mutiple people who’s fics came out to be over 60%, 70% and even 80% but we had the good sense to not be the fucking fic police— the AI cops, if you will. Because there was always a possibility that the author had their work stolen from them. This could not have been true for the 2 blogs we pointed out because it was a) an open secret that they were using AI and b) too new to the fandom to gain any traction and have their work stolen from them.

Now… my question is— why call it a “witch hunt”?

Which other witches have we hunted? We are here to have fun in a fandom just like everybody else and have no reason to dedicate our time and energy into policing other people. Just a few weeks ago people were moaning about how the surge in AI fics was making the fandom more hostile and ruining it for everybody. So why are we the villains for calling it like we see it??

Even if it was a witch hunt, you shouldn’t be afraid if you’re not using AI??? Isn’t this the same cop logic y’all use? The easiest way to prove that you did not use AI was to say ‘I didn’t use it’— maybe even show the document history of you building your fics brick by brick, word by word, over the course of weeks and months. You know what I think? I think the people using AI are now scared that their work will be checked and called out. Hence, the strong sentiments on the “witch hunt”.

As for @/gothcsz, Kat’s fics were always going to show a high percentage of AI because anybody who has followed her for a hot second would know that she too had her work stolen, scrapped and used to train AI. The people accusing her of using AI lacked that fundamental, basic knowledge of this technology. Please read up on it.

But several people ran with it— gleefully, and so very excited to see the downfall of a talented BIPOC author. And they ran to both @toxicanonimity and @ihateconfessionalblogs. They titled this turn of events as “What Goes Around, Comes Around” when really this was a case of “We Will Accuse You Of Stealing What Was Stolen From You Because We Lack Basic Tech And Media Literacy.”

Nowhere in our initial posts about AI did we hail AI scanners as foolproof— it’s common knowledge and information they are not. Moreover, none of those 2 girls would have been called out if they hadn’t performed the tried and true method of shedding white woman tears. Here’s my original post, where you can see the AI user wail about how she is most definitely not using AI and people should come off of anon to converse with her— which I did. Mind you, I previously tried to DM her, which wasn’t possible because she had restricted her messages to only those she follows. And I had also tried to comment on her post but comments and replies were restricted at the time. I thought this was very funny, and would do it again.

I have many thoughts on @toxicanonimity’s engagement with the confessions blog and the shit-stirring blog @ihateconfessionalblogs. But I will hold my peace, because I do believe that the moment you start arguing with ignorant fools, you have lost. I hope this post serves as an accurate account of what has happened as well as being informative.

[clovenoko]

I thought I had 2 people left BUT????????

YOU'RE SO FAST!!!!??THANK YOU💚💚💚

I don't give this post much importance yet, bc I have an event in honor of it. I'll give it a more presentable look later, when I have some free time- its a pity that such an important thing (yess, it's important) fell on an unfortunate period in my life 😔😔

I kept thinking that in my first YEAR of blogging, I didn't even have a hundred followers?? then in the second year, you increased to 200!! and now, just six months later!!!, +300 🎉🎉🎉🎂🎂❕

do people really like my art? I'm so flattered to know this. I'm not sure how proud I should be, but I'm proud in a way. despite my some sad thoughts, I'm glad that you're with me. happy half-thousand of followers! you make me believe that my art really means something for someone 💚💚🎉

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

I have risen 🫶🏻

[ilkkawhat]

has tumblr been acting strange on desktop for anyone else or am i just cursed

[melverie]

Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh today I've been constantly experiencing the urge to un-private today-in-the-devildom & start writing for it again

[tigeri102]

Hi there! I found your blog from reddit while looking for posts about how to grow a tumblr community as an artist (I used to be a regular here like 10 years ago, but I don't even use the email I had back then so I'm back fully from scratch). Any tips that you'd give to a newbie? ^^

oh ! henlo welcome to hell \o/ ill be real tho i truly have little to nothing you dont already seem to have figured out lmao. i dont know anything about community-building and i never have im just here to vibe 🙏

your theme, art, use of tags etc are all lovely fwiw !! but im no expert on getting any real mileage out of this site i just post bullshit all day baybee

edit oops i actually came up with a handful of tips while rambling in the tags and im too lazy to move em to the body text lmao but godspeed

[peachlit]

so many people have told me to get a restraining order on my ex….

[ccrriiaa]

And also

[coquettebratzdoll]

HOW I SHIFTED FOR THE FIRST TIME

I'm gonna keep this short and sweet. For some context, no, this isn't literally my first time shifting (we shift all the time, remember?) as I've shifted to countless parallel realities and a couple random realities. However, this was the first time I shifted to a reality where it was supposedly fictional (MHA).

So, what did I do?

This. Exactly what I'm doing right now.

You see, every time I was going to bed or idle with my thoughts (doing chores, walking, etc), I would imagine myself writing a success story or telling a friend (luv you @vixilic) about my successful shift. I'd think about how I'd decorate it, how I'd word my sentences, the feeling I'd get from it, things like that. In the time between my last post and now, I had managed to shift by (mainly) doing that.

Before you say, "Isn't that similar to the xyz method/a combination of abc and qrs?" Congratulations! You know so much that you can actually see the different aspects of Loa/shifting being applied. I'm not gonna pretend like I invented this approach, but it is what worked for me (and perhaps for you too).

So, for those who want a coherent, step by step guide on how to do this, look below:

1. Pick a reference Pick something that you're going to base your visualisation off of. Are you going to tell a shifting friend? Your favourite blog? What about writing your own post? Don't stress, you can use more than one

2. Do the damn visualisation Everyday, imagine what it'd be like to tell your success story. What did you do during the day? How were the people in that reality like? How did it feel? Were you nervous, excited, scared? Do this when you wake up and when you're going to sleep. Bonus points for doing this at other times too.

3. Relax This doesn't have to be an instantaneous method and you may not see "results" right away. The whole reason I started doing this in the first place is because I'm pretty busy with school currently and I wanted to do something related to shifting which I didn't have to think about much. Hell, that shift happened on a night where I had no plans, I didn't "try", I just wanted to sleep 😭

Tips:

- this can be compounded with other methods if you wish: subliminals, robotic affirmations, sats, etc - don't stress if your visualisation isn't perfect, feeling is much more key here - on that note, don't try and force a "feeling" either. maybe you're overthinking it or just not in the mood, you don't have to literally feel it - go with the flow and personalise this to yourself. this is a Tumblr post, not a military boot camp - this can be applied to more than just shifting, too

Special thanks to the following creators who really helped me get out of a shifting slump recently: @scentedpeachlandcreator @hrrtshape @h1biscusgal (and @premiumbitch too but they deactivated 💔)

Moot tag don't mind me: @jealousmartini @livingmydreamlife5555 @xstrawberryshiftsx @vixilic @luckykiwiii101 @multiversal-wanderings @reiashiftsrealities @livingsecret @astrstqr @zomb13pup @zipper-is-ranting @theshifterbride @kimasoft

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[kamiiik0]

♧How I Induced the void through SATS

And i know, I've wanted to and said that i'll induce the void through lucid dreaming, but here's the thing. Sats is actually so easy and effortless to do, lucid dreaming feels like a chore now (to me). And the thing is, I, ironically took break from tumblr and void because void state was starting to be viewed "too hard" (💀) to get into, literally induced it unintentionally through sats, it was THAT easy. Let's get right into it, I'm gonna start from the very basics, so you can know how sats works and how to actually utilise it :)

1. What exactly is SATS?

It's a deeply relaxed state, a state where you're groggy and drowsy. Like, yk before going to sleep, you hit this one point where you're half dreaming, half awake ish? like you can't (or don't want to) open your eyes, and you're just halfway through drifting off to sleep. That's exactly it! Your subconscious mind is HIGHLY suggestive to literally anything you tell it in this state. You access right before sleeping and right after waking up, and if you use it carefully you could really benefit from it :)

2.! How i Induced the void through SATS and how to relax :)

I actually did not realise relaxing was subjective to everyone until this experience. Let me tell you what happened.

It was a normal day. Like I mentioned above, I had taken a break from tumblr so I just scrolled through youtube. I was tired that day and wanted to sleep, but yk me and my phone addiction lol. So long story short, I saw some video about a beach, and then I just decided to go on pinterest, look at some comforting dark stormy beaches (💙) and some more peaceful shit and just imagined scenarios that RELAXED me. I like visualization and I'm good at it so imagining the scenarios was extremely peaceful. Basically I just looked at them pictures and just imagined sitting or laying there peaceful and relaxed, and other stuff.

Then i re-downloaded tumblr because I couldn't resist, and the first thing I saw was bunch of void success stories from a tumblr blog. They motivated me a lot and improved my mindset towards void, one of them being like "I was tired, so I affirmed, relaxed, felt a sucking feeling and entered", which to me was crazy because I was already tired and relaxed. So I laid down, relaxed, and almost immediately got into the SATS because of how relaxed and tired I was. Then in the sats I started to affirm for the void. And guess what? I felt a sucking feeling, something pulling me in, and then it was total black. I couldn't feel, hear or see a thing. I didn't affirm anything because of how peaceful it felt and forgot I had to do that (😭). When I woke up it motivated me a lot because I just realised how EASY it was and that I proved myself wrong.

Now, how is relaxing subjective? because to me, relaxing was like blindly following a guided meditation. Almost every blog i saw told me to meditate to relax (NO HATE TO ANYONE!!), and I thought meditation was just meditating to some guided meditation on youtube or the typical high frequency breathe in breathe out shit, which made me alien to the idea of meditating, because for me honestly following some youtube video on how to relax just didn't sit with me, because I wasn't even "relaxing". After the experience I realised what relaxing or meditating actually is. It's about discovering your own peace. It doesn't matter what it is.

(p.s. from the same concept I Induced the alpha state, lmk if you want a post on that. And no I did not count from 13 to 1 then 12 to 1, or even count at all).

and that was literally it. Imagining some peaceful scenarios, lying down, immediately getting inside sats and affirming, then inducing. I even entered 1-2 times after in two consecutive nights which boosted my confidence. Guys, it really is that easy.

[alwaysmaybank]

soft rafe hours

soft!bf!rafe x reader

warnings: barely proofread, use of y/n once, really soft and mushy!

this is my first time actually writing anything fan fic related so idk if this is good or not.. sorry in advance for the people that follow me because of jj or "right in front of you" but when I made this blog I was in my jj phase and now I'm in my rafe one, so sorry! hope you like it !!

the title is so cringy help me

summary: nobody ever saw rafe like this—so soft. well, except for you, especially during soft rafe hours: at night after a long day, when you’re asleep, when he first wakes up, when you’re sick or hurt, after an argument, on rainy days, and even sometimes in bed. you loved this side of him, even if he only showed it to you. people see him as the confident, smug rafe cameron, but one phone call reveals just how different he truly is.

more under the cut!

after tossing and turning the entire night, slumber is finally taking over your eyelids. just as they start to close… ping! you could've sworn you left your phone on silent? after groaning about it and wondering who it could be, it clicks.

ping! it's rafe. this has become a familiar trend now, him not being able to sleep so he texts and texts until you reply.

ping! until you two call.

ping! you consider just ignoring it, ping! but how could you? it's rafe. plus, if you even tried to ignore him, he would come over and break the door down if he had to.

ping! you eventually open your phone, your eyes closing instinctively at the blinding brightness, six texts from rafe.

rafey:

2:14am

hey baby you up? i miss you

rafey:

2:32am

baby? are u up? y/n?

you saw him yesterday. you’re not sure what’s going on, but you suspect it has something to do with ward, given his clingy behavior.

2:35am

hey rafey

rafey:

did i wake you? sorry baby

you lie. you don't want to make him feel bad.

no no dw baby i was watching something

rafey:

oh okay can we call? couldnt sleep without you i miss you

five seconds later, you call him. “hey baby,” you hear his quiet, soft, yet raspy sleepy voice first.

“hi,” you reply tiredly.

“i missed you,” he says, and you can practically hear the radiant smile in his voice.

“how was your day?” you just had a blissfully lazy day today, some shopping on the side.

“good, i went shopping and saw that whiskey you like on the shelf, reminded me of you,” you grin over the phone.

“mm, good,” you hear him mumble out. “just missed your voice,” he continues. “couldn’t sleep without hearing you first, baby.” that’s cute.

“awh, i love you, baby,” you reply, your tired but don’t want to stay silent; you know he needs this.

“i missed you today,” rafe murmured after a beat, his voice rougher now, more raw. “whole day just felt wrong without you in it.” your chest tightened slightly, in the best way as a blush crept onto your cheeks. he said stuff like this all the time; you don’t think you would ever get over it.

“you make everything better, without even trying,” he pauses, taking in a soft breath. “like… just existing.” you didn’t know what to say, so you settled for a soft, “i missed you too, rafey.”

rafe hummed on the other side of the line, clearly content with that answer. the call goes silent for a minute, the only sound both of your soft breaths that blended together.

“don’t hang up,” he mumbled, his voice hard to get the point across but softened immensely. “jus’… stay, okay?” he whispered, and you agreed with a soft hum.

there was another long pause, and then, so quiet you could’ve thought you imagined it, a little, “love you so much, baby,” slipped past rafe’s lips. you held a chuckle in before responding, “i love you too, rafey, goodnight.” but by the time you said that, rafe was fast asleep, his breath slowing down as the gentle trance of sleep pulled him in.

as you lay there, wrapped in the warmth of his soothing voice, you felt your own eyelids grow heavy, surrendering to a peaceful slumber where everything felt right.

this is wayyyy too short stop

[svtiddiess]

Show 'Em How It's Done

Synopsis: Everyone assumes Mingyu is the submissive one when it comes to bedroom activities, so he proves them wrong.

Pairing: non-idol!Mingyu x afab!reader

Genre: smut, oneshot, established relationship, non-idol! au

Rating: mature

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), creampie, semi-public sex, exhibitionism? (they're in a different room but can still be heard), dom!Mingyu, big dick!Mingyu, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: This was requested! I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you so much to @seokgyuu and @okiedokrie for beta reading!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Your eyes light up as you see the cabin you're staying for the weekend come into view. Mingyu, your boyfriend, had planned this trip with his friend group—a much-needed escape to the woods. Thanks to Seungcheol's generous use of his credit card, they managed to rent a spacious and stunning cabin tucked away in nature.

At first, you assumed Mingyu wanted a boys-only weekend, but to your surprise, he was adamant that you join them. Despite your repeated refusals, he insisted this was the perfect chance for you to finally meet and get to know his closest friends. He also claimed that he'd be extremely sad and lonely if he spent an entire two days without you, a reason that made you snort. Eventually, you gave in, and Mingyu’s excitement over your agreement was downright infectious.

After a gruelling four-hour drive, you sigh and stretch, glad to finally move your stiff limbs. Your gaze shifts to Mingyu, who’s focused on reverse parking with one hand resting on the back of your seat. Your cheeks heat up—it’s ridiculous how even after six months together, he still makes your heart flutter over something so simple. But really, who could blame you? It's not your fault your boyfriend is so hot.

"Thanks for driving, my Mingoo," you say with a smile, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek.

"You missed," he pouts, tapping his lips with his finger.

Laughing, you lean in for a quick peck, but before you can pull away, Mingyu places a hand on the back of your head and deepens the kiss. A surprised squeak escapes you, followed by soft giggles against his lips.

"Did you really think I’d let you off the hook with that weak excuse of a kiss?" He teases, his grin playful.

"You’re such a baby," you huff, rolling your eyes.

"Your baby," he counters smugly.

Still chuckling, you climb out of the car and stretch again as Mingyu unloads your luggage. Your jaw drops as you take in the sight of the large cabin before you. It’s impressive—definitely worth thanking Seungcheol for later.

"Looks like some of them are already here," Mingyu says, nodding toward the other cars parked nearby.

Suddenly, the realisation hits that you’ll be meeting most of his friends for the first time, and nerves start to bubble up. You’ve met Seungcheol and Wonwoo before, but this will be your first encounter with the entire group. Mingyu has been close with them since high school, and despite going their separate ways for college and work, their bond has remained rock-solid.

Sensing your unease, Mingyu sets down the bags and walks over to you. He takes your hand, his touch steady and comforting, and flashes you a reassuring smile.

"Don’t stress, babe. They’re going to love you. I promise," he says softly.

"But what if I embarrass myself? What if the first impression I give them is of me being a total idiot?" you groan, your palms growing clammy.

Mingyu chuckles, shaking his head. "Babe, trust me. You can’t out-dumbass them. They’re the biggest idiots I know," he says with a laugh. "So relax, okay? You’ve got nothing to worry about."

His words, paired with the kiss he plants on your forehead, manage to soothe your nerves a little. You sigh, nodding reluctantly. Mingyu squeezes your hand one last time before returning to the luggage. Taking a deep breath, you follow him inside, determined to make the best of the weekend.

Getting to know Mingyu’s friend group has been…an experience, to say the least. He wasn’t kidding when he said they were idiots but in the best possible way. They’re warm, welcoming, and a little chaotic—a combination that instantly makes you feel at ease. In fact, Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Seokmin even "initiated" you into their inner circle. You’ve officially become one of the boys.

Right now, the entire group is sprawled across the living room, all varying levels of drunk, playing games. You’re sitting on the floor between Mingyu and Vernon, caught up in a lively game of Truth or Dare. Currently, Jeonghan has dared Joshua to get slapped in the face with kimchi, and to everyone’s delight, Joshua actually went through with it.

You’re doubled over, clutching your stomach in laughter, tears streaming down your face as Joshua wipes kimchi off his cheek with an exasperated expression. Jeonghan, of course, looks beyond pleased with himself.

It’s Soonyoung’s turn next, and judging by the mischievous glint in his eyes and his unsteady giggles, the alcohol is fully in charge now. He spins toward Mingyu with a maniacal grin.

"So, Gyu. Truth or dare?" he asks, practically bouncing in place.

Mingyu, who’s only slightly tipsy, shakes his head with a laugh. "Truth. I’m not risking anything."

"Boo!" Soonyoung pouts dramatically, earning exaggerated groans of disappointment from the rest of the group.

"Buzzkill!" Seokmin calls out from the couch.

"I’d rather not get kimchi-slapped by Jeonghan," Mingyu quips, casting a wary glance at Jeonghan.

"Hey, it’s an enlightening experience," Joshua deadpans, still dabbing his face with a tissue. Jeonghan simply laughs.

Soonyoung suddenly gasps, his eyes wide as if he’s just discovered the secret to the universe. "Oh my God, I got it!" he shouts, his grin downright unhinged. "Gyu, is it true that you’re the submissive one in the bedroom?!"

Your jaw drops. The room instantly explodes with laughter.

"W-What?!" Mingyu stammers, his brows furrowing in shock.

"You heard me!" Soonyoung giggles. "You’re the submissive one, aren’t you?"

Mingyu scoffs, shaking his head. "I’m not."

"Aw, come on, Gyu. Don’t be shy about it," Jeonghan teases, his grin only fueling the chaos. The laughter around you grows louder.

Your face burns as the conversation continues, the guys piling on the teasing with no mercy.

"Guys, seriously, can we not?" Mingyu whines, clearly flustered.

"Not until you admit it!" Seungcheol grins, leaning forward with mock intensity.

"It’s true, right, Y/N? Mingyu’s the submissive one in the bedroom, isn’t he?" Seungkwan chimes in, his laughter contagious.

Your cheeks heat up even more, and you hide your face in your hands, which only makes them laugh harder.

"No need to be shy, Y/N. We all know Gyu’s a massive simp for you—in and out of the bedroom," Joshua says with a wink.

You giggle softly, finally giving in. "Well…he is a huge simp for me."

The room erupts into chaos, everyone howling with laughter.

"She admitted it!" Soonyoung screams, practically rolling on the floor.

"So it’s true! He is submissive!" Jun adds, laughing so hard he has to wipe his eyes.

"I knew it!" Chan chimes in, grinning from ear to ear.

Mingyu groans, his face buried in his hands. "Babe~," he whines, looking at you with a pout.

You offer him an apologetic smile and lean in to kiss his cheek. "Sorry," you murmur, trying to stifle a laugh.

Mingyu grumbles and pouts as the rest of the boys continue to roar with laughter.

The game carries on, but you notice your beer is empty. Announcing to the group that you’re heading to the kitchen to grab more, you stand up and make your way into the next room, separated from the living area by a wall.

You open the fridge and grab a bottle, then reach for the kitchen drawer to find a bottle opener—only to discover it’s missing. With a quiet grumble, you crouch down to check the lower drawers, rummaging through them in hopes of finding what you need.

That’s when you feel it—a presence behind you, someone pressing up against your back. You gasp softly and straighten up quickly, attempting to turn around, but the person behind you cages you in, their arms trapping you against the counter.

"So… it’s true, huh? That I’m the submissive one?" Mingyu’s voice is low as he whispers in your ear.

Relief washes over you when you realise it’s just your boyfriend. Letting out a soft laugh, you shake your head. "Gyu, they were just messing with you," you say, amused at how hung up he still is on the topic.

"But you didn’t deny it," he murmurs, his voice tinged with mock offence. "You told them I’m a simp for you."

"That’s because you are a simp for me," you tease, glancing at him over your shoulder.

"I am," he admits, his tone unashamed as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. His face nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "But I’m definitely not the submissive one."

Before you can respond, Mingyu rolls his hips against you, his movement deliberate. The sudden sensation draws a surprised gasp from your lips.

"Right, babe?" he teases, and you can feel the smug grin spreading across his face as he continues his little game.

You bite your bottom lip, your body warming under his touch as he grinds against you, the growing pressure unmistakable. "Gyu, not here," you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. "They’ll hear us."

"That’s the whole point, sweetheart," he purrs, his voice dripping with mischief.

"Fuck, Gyu," a soft whimper escapes your lips at a particularly hard grind, causing Mingyu to chuckle.

"What if I just bend you over and fuck you right here? You would like that, wouldn't you, sweetheart?" He chuckles.

"Gyu, I-" A loud moan escapes your lips, and you quickly bite your lip to prevent any more sounds from escaping.

Grabbing your hips, Mingyu starts guiding your hips against his, pushing your ass against his hard cock. You feel your mind start to get fuzzy as you feel how hard he has become.

"Beg for it, sweetheart. Beg for me to ruin you with my cock," he purrs in your ear.

"Gyu, please… I need it," you whisper, your cheeks flushing with heat.

"Need what, babe?" he asks, his tone playful, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. Your soft whine only makes his grin widen.

"Need you to ruin me with your cock," you mumble.

"Good girl," he whispers before placing a kiss on the shell of your ear.

Without warning, he bends you over the kitchen counter; a yelp escapes your lips as your cheeks make contact with the cold marble. A slow, teasing hand runs down your back, leaving goosebumps in its trail; you can't help but let out a small whine of frustration, eliciting a chuckle from Mingyu.

"So impatient," he smirks as he slaps your ass, drawing a gasp from you.

He unbuckles your pants, and you help him shimmy it off of you, shivering as the cold air nips at your bare legs. He hums as he rubs a finger on your panty-clad pussy, making you whimper.

"So wet already?" he teases with a low chuckle, his tone dripping with mockery.

"Gyu, please," you plead, your voice trembling with desperation, unable to endure his relentless teasing any longer.

"Admit it," he growls softly, his lips brushing against your ear. "Admit that you're the submissive one in bed."

"I'm the submissive one in bed," you cry out, your cheeks burning. "Now, please, just fuck me already!"

Laughing at your impatience, Mingyu slaps your pussy, making you mewl as a sharp wave of pain and pleasure wash over you.

"Such a good girl. My good girl," he growls before unbuckling his pants and slipping out his cock.

Moving your panties to the side, he teases you by rubbing his dick against your folds, coating the tip with your juices. Desperate to feel him, you arch your hips back, seeking more, but Mingyu firmly holds you in place, pressing you tightly against the counter with ease. You let out a frustrated whine, wiggling your hips in a futile attempt to gain some control, but Mingyu’s strength easily overpowers you. Helpless under his grip, you surrender, letting him take the lead like the good girl he knows you are.

He spits on his cock, using it as lube, and gives it a few pumps before slowly inserting it into your tight hole. Your eyes roll back, and your mouth goes agape as you finally feel his cock inside you; his cock stretching you out deliciously. Mingyu's big, the biggest you've ever had, so every time he fucks you, it feels like the first.

Grunts escape his lips as he tries to restrain himself from slamming into you; you feel so good wrapped around him. A choked whimper escapes your lips when you feel his tip kiss your cervix. He pulls out halfway before slamming back into you, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Without hesitation, Mingyu picks up the pace; each thrust rough and relentless. Broken moans and soft whimpers spill from your lips, your mind too clouded with pleasure to focus on anything but the way he fills you so perfectly.

"That's right, sweetheart," he purrs against your ear, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Be loud. Let everyone know how good I’m making you feel."

"G-Gyu," you manage to moan, your voice trembling. "S-so good… feels so good."

"Only I can make you feel this good, isn’t that right, sweetheart?" he growls, his voice rough with possession. One hand moves to grip your neck, holding you firmly in place, while the other steadies your hips.

"Yes! You—only you!" you cry out, your voice shaky as the overwhelming pleasure pushes you closer to the edge.

"Gyu, I'm so close! Please—please, please!" you beg, your words tumbling out in desperate sobs as you plead for release.

The hand holding your hips shifts to circle your clit with precision, and you scream out his name. The knot in your stomach finally unravels, and your vision blurs as a wave of euphoria crashes over you. Pleasure ripples through your body, leaving you breathless as you chant his name like a prayer. Mingyu doesn't let up, his movements steady as he thrusts into you, guiding you through the intensity of your release. After a few more thrusts, he cums inside you, filling you up; your fluids mixing together.

You both take a moment to catch your breath, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing. Slowly, he slides out, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the sensation. Pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he adjusts your panties back into place. You cringe slightly, feeling the fabric cling uncomfortably to your skin.

"Keep my cum in you; I'll make sure to fuck it back into you later," he purrs, making you blush.

He helps you stand and gently guides you back into your pants before slipping into his own clothes. Running his fingers through your messy hair, he smooths it down before wiping away any drool and sweat from your face. Then, he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. You smile into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. When he pulls back, he nuzzles your nose with his, drawing a soft giggle from you.

"Ready to head back?" he murmurs, his voice low and affectionate.

You nod, grabbing your now lukewarm beer before following him back into the living room.

"Did we miss anything?" Mingyu asks casually as he takes a seat, acting as if he didn't just fuck your brains out a few minutes before.

"N-Nothing, you missed nothing," Soonyoung stammers, awkwardly clearing his throat as he tries to hide his very obvious boner.

Your gaze sweeps across the room, and you realise the rest of them are just as flustered, each one failing miserably to hide their boners. You burst into laughter at their awkward state, and Mingyu joins in, clearly enjoying the moment.

With a smug grin, Mingyu looks around at his friends before cupping your face and pulling you in for a deep, possessive kiss. The room fills with groans and exaggerated complaints.

"Get a room!" someone yells, earning more laughter from the both of you.

You giggle into the kiss, relishing the playful teasing, while Mingyu smirks against your lips, clearly pleased to have proven their earlier jabs entirely wrong.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @tomodachiii @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo

[threadbearsweater]

one warm day is all i really need | arthur morgan

When you find yourself taken in by a gang of outlaws, the last thing you expect is to grow sweet on one of them- and have the feelings reciprocated. Arthur Morgan doesn't have time for romantic nonsense, but a few memebers of the gang want to make sure that he gets to indulge in his obvious affection toward you. Tags: 3.9k words, an unlikely romance, meddling gang members (with the purest of intentions, one might suppose); female reader, alcohol use, smoking, emotional smut. A repost from a (regretfully) deactivated blog.

Arthur first notices your eyes on him one evening around the campfire at Shady Belle. He won’t accuse you of staring– Lord knows he’s been known to look at you with the same foolish grin you’re wearing now– but he tips his hat to acknowledge you. The heat in your cheeks is suddenly warmer than what the fire has already provided; your grin only grows until your teeth are showing, and you duck your head into your shoulder to hide. Arthur takes a long swig from his whiskey bottle and grimaces as it goes down. He hasn't had a drop of anything in days, and the burn takes a little while to grow numb to now.

“Think she's sweet on you, Morgan,” Sean says in his Irish lilt, giving Arthur an elbow in the ribs.

“Naw, she's lookin’ at you,” Arthur deflects, though he hopes he's wrong. He thinks he knows.

“She told me last week to keep my eyes on my own work,” Sean continues. “I really don't think it's me she wants, Arthur.”

You turn to whisper something to Sadie, who laughs out loud with her face tilted toward the stars. You dare a glance back at Arthur, who is, in fact, looking at you.

Maybe there's some truth to what Mary Beth told you yesterday.

“Arthur's been awful quiet lately.”

The sun shines through the trees and dapples the table where you're seated with bright spots of pale yellow. It's your third round of dominoes with Mary-Beth, and she's whooping your ass, as usual. You don't know how she does it, but each game you play, you're a little more privy to her prowess.

“You think so? I don't know him as well as you.” You hope it isn't obvious that your heart started beating a little faster at the mention of his name. It leaves you breathless.

“Oh yeah,” Mary-Beth continues. “He's been scratchin’ away in that journal of his a lot more, too.” She leans closer, conspiratorial, her eyes twinkling with the gossip she's about to share. “Karen said he went to town twice last week to have a hot bath. If you knew Arthur like I know Arthur, why…you'd know that's highly out of character for him.”

“But you said he'd been quiet. Is that unusual for him, too?”

She hums and purses her lips. “Well you see, Arthur isn't usually a man of many words on a good day. But it's been real bad lately. He don't even give John a hard time like usual.”

You ponder the dominoes for a moment and then make your move. It doesn't earn you any points, but at least you didn't have to draw. “What do you think the problem is?” you ask, nonchalant as possible.

Mary-Beth smiles. Big and bright and sparkling. “Oh, it's not a problem at all.” She lowers her voice and cups her hand to her mouth. “Arthur's in love.”

You gasp, then giggle behind your hand, and Mary-Beth follows suit. Hosea looks on and shakes his head, so you quiet down, reaching across to grab Mary-Beth's hands. “Who do you think it is?”

Her cheeks are tinted pink, and she looks around to make sure there aren't any ears to hear. Word travels fast around camp if one isn't prudent. “I think it's you.”

A thunderstorm rips through Shady Belle a little over a week later. Your little tent that you share with Sadie is ripped straight off its supports in a terrible gust of wind, and you and the others hightail it inside the house to take cover just as it begins to hail. There's quite a ruckus as everyone huddles inside, windblown and rain-soaked. A few of the men hold up lanterns to illuminate the darkness while you watch the lightning and feel the thunder shake the old bones of the house.

“Everyone just calm down,” Dutch calls, descending the stairs, wearing some ridiculous robe with his arms spread wide. “Are we really gonna let a little old thunderstorm keep us from getting a good night's sleep?”

“Says the man with a bed inside the house,” Arthur bites, rounding the corner from what used to be the kitchen, holding a lantern up high in front of him. “Dutch, you better allow these ladies to take cover in here for tonight, or I'll–”

“Or you'll what, Mister Morgan? Pray tell, what kind of man do you take me for?” Dutch's eyes are fiery as he stares Arthur down; a display of dominance. A veritable cockfight.

Arthur's jaw twitches, but he doesn't back down. “The kind of man I should hope would have some goddamn respect for his family.”

There's a tense moment or two where everyone is quiet, then Dutch relents. “Fine, fine! But I expect everyone out there pitching in to clean up in the morning.” He points at Arthur and raises his voice again. “That includes the other man with a bed inside the house,” he sneers.

Arthur shakes his head, then looks away only to catch sight of you, shivering in your wet undergarments, huddled close to Mary-Beth for what little warmth the two of you can share. For a minute, he forgets to breathe, then composes himself enough to cross the room.

“Come on in here. Get yourself warm and dry by the fire.” His hand on your elbow is rough but warm as he leads you toward the fireplace. You nod and look back at Mary-Beth, who shoos you away with a flick of her wrist and a wink; you notice that her teeth are chattering. Despite the humidity that hangs heavy in the air, the temperature has turned chilly with the storm.

Arms crossed over your bosom to preserve any shred of modesty you might have left, you allow yourself to be led away by Arthur. Dutch and some of the others head upstairs while Charles and Javier keep watch from the front porch.

“You alright?” Arthur asks. He covers your shoulders with one of his heavy winter coats, and you pull it around you, grateful for the weight and warmth of it. Another clap of thunder shakes the house and you jump. Arthur chuckles.

“You laughin’ at me?” you quip, placing your palms flat in the direction of the fireplace. You don't even bother to hide the grin you feel curling on your lips.

“No madam, I am not,” Arthur says earnestly, taking a seat beside you on the old wooden crate he's set up as a makeshift bench.

“Then just what do you find so funny, Mister Morgan?”

He scratches the back of his neck, looking into the flames. “Aw, I dunno. I'm sorry. It's just that you're…”

You bump him with your hip, unable to stop the giggles that bubble up from your chest. “I'm what?” you pry.

There's a clatter of something falling on the front porch, and Arthur uses it as a good excuse to get out of this hole he's dug for himself. “I better go see what's going on out there. Charles might need my help.”

“I'm what, Arthur?!” you call, to no avail. He's gone before he can see the proverbial hearts in your eyes.

The saloon in Rhodes is a little nicer than the ones you visited in Valentine, though it's a far cry from the ones you used to frequent in Saint Denis. Still, when Sadie and the other girls decide that it's high time you have a little fun in town, you throw on your best dress and let Karen curl your hair and even apply a little of the makeup you snagged from a homestead up north. For the first time in months, you feel like a proper woman. There isn't time to be melancholy about the past, though, when the boys start whistling and cat-calling upon the sight of you and the other girls.

“Aw, knock it off!” Sadie hollers. She's decided to dress up a little tonight, too, much to everyone's surprise. But she hikes up her skirts to hop into the wagon, calling for the rest of you all to hurry it up. “I've got a bottle of rum with my name on it that's waiting for me to come drink her all down!”

You catch the sunset on the way to town. It's dazzling over the meadows, all golden light and warm, blazing oranges and reds that settle into a brilliant pink by the time your reach the main road into Rhodes. You wish you could see Arthur's eyes, but he's got a handle on the reins next to Charles in the front of the wagon. You've seen him watching the sunset before; he always looks so peaceful those evenings at camp, and you often wonder what he thinks about in those few minutes before the horizon is painted in pastel hues.

Karen starts singing a song that everyone eventually joins, and before you know it, you're pulling up in front of the Rhodes Parlour House. You can already hear the piano and a few voices from outside; the sound of it stirs something in your soul that makes you long for the familiarity of home, but you quickly shove it aside in favor of the company of your new family.

“Madam.” Arthur's voice brings you out of your thoughts and back into the present, where he waits at the back of the wagon with his hand extended to you. You beam at him, and he feels dizzy. And when your soft hand fits into his, he straightens his knees so they don't buckle and betray him.

“Why, thank you, kind sir,” you say, lifting the hem of your skirts to step out onto the dirt road.

Arthur leans in, dangerously close to your ear. You can smell the whisky and cigarettes on his breath, along with the faint tang of gunpowder and hair pomade. “You sure do look nice in that dress.”

You demure and fan yourself with your hand. “Just how much have you had to drink already tonight?” you giggle.

“Ahh, just a little nip to take the edge off.”

“Mm-hm. Sure, Arthur. Whatever you say.”

The night starts off relatively calm, as most nights do. You and the other girls find an empty table to sit and pick up on the town gossip, and the men start a hand of poker. It grows loud and crowded sometime around midnight, and it's hard to have a conversation without shouting over the din of voices, the clink of glass bottles, and the slow drag ragtime music from the piano. The ambiance is charming and lighthearted, and there are even a few couples drunkenly dancing on the porch.

You push back in your chair and find that when you stand, you're a little more wobbly than you thought you would be. The alcohol has loosened you more than you realize, and you grip the table for support until you feel a firm arm around your waist. “Whoa there.”

It's Arthur, who has won the last round of poker and has come to check in on you and the other ladies. You're pulled tight against his chest for one fleeting moment, and you look up into his eyes. He, too, seems drunk, with his eyes gleaming and drooping at the corners, his smile easy and his cheeks flushed.

“My knight in shining armor,” you slur, pretending to faint in his embrace. He only pulls you tighter against him, both of his broad hands splayed across your back. You laugh, and he smiles.

“You weren't getting another drink, were ya?” he questions with a raise of his brow.

“‘m thirsty,” you whine, lifting your empty glass entirely too close to his face. It knocks against his nose, which sends you into another fit of laughter.

Arthur takes your wrist– gentle but firm– and lowers the glass away. “Think you need to drink something that's not whiskey,” he drawls. You can't help but watch the way his lips form around the words; the slip of his tongue between his teeth, the way his mouth turns up into the hint of a smile when you pout. Before you can think too long and hard about it, you lunge forward and kiss him. Hard and clumsy and impulsive. You don't give him time to react. You're far too involved in the kiss to notice, but the girls at the table behind you have all gone silent. Arthur slides his hand along the side of your face and presses his fingers upon the nape of your neck, kissing you back like he really means it. (He really does.)

You pull back suddenly, breathless and reeling, swiping the back of your hand over your mouth. You're still held firm in his embrace, but the playfulness in his gaze has been replaced with an intensity that makes your knees weak all over again.

“What'd ya do that for?” he asks.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, you started it.”

“And you finished it.”

“Oh, I ain't finished with you, yet.”

“That a promise or a threat?” Your pulse is thumping wildly in your ears.

“Ya know, they got rooms upstairs for that!” Sadie shouts. There's a ripple of laughter across the table. Arthur's hand on your cheek feels like a brand, his arm about your waist an anchor. The rest of the room comes back to you in a woozy blur, and you look around, a little lovestruck and a whole lot drunk. Arthur's lips at your temple make your eyes flutter shut, and the room fades to black as tIt'weight of you slumps against him. He staggers only slightly, but holds you firm, chuckling softly.

“It's a promise,” he whispers.

You come to some hours later. Your mouth is dry as the desert, your head feels like lead, your skin broken out in a cold, uncomfortable sweat. At some point, it seems you were covered with a downy soft blanket, and the pillow at your head is much more fluffy than the makeshift one you made out of a bedroll at camp. At first, you think you're dreaming. Then, you wonder very briefly if you're back at your childhood home in Saint Denis. You almost call out to your mother when you hear a soft snore from the other side of your bed.

The room spins when you turn your head, and you rub your eyes until Arthur comes into focus. He's sprawled in an armchair a few feet away. His arms are crossed over his chest while his chin is tucked into his chest. Off to the side, you spy his boots; his big toe pokes through a hole in his sock and you smile at how vulnerable he looks.

“Arthur,” you whisper, shifting slightly as you pull the blanket up around your chin.

He grunts and lifts his head slowly. He frowns a little at first, but when he focuses on you lying there, so close he could reach out and kiss you again like he did last night, there's a slow, easy smile that spreads across his face.

“Hey there, party girl. You feeling alright?”

You could kick yourself for all the giggling you've done around him lately, but you can't help it. He brings out something giddy and downright foolish inside you, so you toss a pillow at him and bury your face in the sheets.

“Aw, come on now. I'm just messin’ with ya.” He leans forward and rubs your head affectionately. “I'd say you were feeling pretty good last night.”

It's in that moment a white-hot jolt of sheer panic shoots down your spine. Quickly, you check to make sure you're still wearing clothes. Aside from your breasts being a little lopsided in the confines of your bodice, you're relieved to find that your dress is still intact and– more importantly– on your body. You dare another peek at Arthur and notice that his shirt is unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest and he's discarded his vest somewhere, but he, too, is fully clothed. Thank the good Lord above.

You must've said that last part aloud, because Arthur laughs. “Don't worry, nothing happened. Though it weren't for lack of tryin’ on your part,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Thought I was gonna have to lock you in here like some feral cat till you settled down.”

Oh. Oh Lord. You try to recall what happened that led you to this room, but all that comes to mind is a lot of loud conversation, some dancing, a spilled drink across Sadie's lap, and Arthur's hand on the side of your cheek. “Oh…”

Now you remember it in vivid detail.

“Didn't know you cared for me like that,” he says. It's earnest and tender, a few shades less intense than the kiss you now recall, the one where it felt like he wanted to eat you alive right there in the middle of the saloon. Now, he thumbs your cheek and looks at you so fondly you swear your heart jumps right up in your throat. “I mean, I'd been hoping. Wasn't sure you was looking for a romance.” He huffs a short sigh, frustrated with himself. “Aw, hell, what am I saying? ‘Course you weren't. You're just looking to survive, just like the rest of us, and here I–”

“Shut up,” you say, taking hold of his hand and tugging him closer. He resists until you pull even harder, watching the fire in your eyes blaze to life. “You talk too much, Yankee.”

“I ain't no damn–”

“Kiss me.”

He's over you in an instant; you're pressed flat against the bed, completely and totally at his mercy. This kiss feels different than the drunken one last night. It's sober and honest, if not a little hesitant, as if he's holding himself back from devouring you wholly. The warmth of his body against yours takes your breath away. Or maybe it's the way his tongue laves heavy into your mouth, unashamed of how badly he craves the taste of you. You grip his hair at the roots and tug him down to kiss him harder, lifting your upper body to meet him until he presses down, his chest flush with yours.

Things get heated quickly.

His mouth moves across your cheek, down your neck, and he groans against your skin, rutting his cock against your thigh. You fleetingly wish that he had managed to get you out of that dress before he presumably tucked you into bed and passed out in that chair, because there’s a whole lot of fabric between you and him that really pisses you off right now. Arthur must feel much the same, because he’s bunching your skirts up past your knees while you’re fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to feel him against you, inside you. It’s clumsy and crazed, rushed and rough, but you manage somehow to shuck off every last bit of your clothes and his until you’re breathless and so, so eager beneath him.

“Need you now,” you whine. You feel insane. Dizzy and dehydrated, impossibly turned on, every nerve ending on fire when his callused hands grip the fat of your thighs and open you to him.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?” One of his hands slips between your legs to find you wet and swollen. He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and pushes a finger inside you; the sound you make nearly has him finishing there on the sheets, so he wastes no time in getting himself as close to you as humanly possible.

“Never wanted something so bad,” he murmurs into the dip of your shoulder. He wants all of you– all at once– wants to fuse his hands against your skin and sink himself into you so deep that it would be impossible to tell where he ends and you begin. The heat from his body takes away what little breath you have left, his mouth on each part of your body building the buzz in your chest until you feel like you might just burst open. You grabbed at each other like it was the first and last time you might have this opportunity, as if you wanted more than what the other of you was able to give.

Considering the kind of life you’ve both led so far, it’s a good possibility that you might never get to do this again.

“Give it to me,” you plead, opening yourself further to him, fingers wrapped firm around the base of his cock. “Please.”

Arthur Morgan is a man of incredible strength and self restraint, except when it comes to a woman like you.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he takes you. It’s primal, sweaty, filthy, rough. Arthur pushes as far inside you as he can go, then pushes further when you beg for more. He cups your knees with slick palms and presses you open as far as you can bend; you tug roughly at his hair and bite down on his shoulder when the pleasure builds to a blinding ferocity. The wooden bedframe knocks angrily against the wall with each thrust, but you can’t bring yourself to care if anyone hears. You can’t focus on anything beyond the feeling of him filling you with every stroke of his cock, of the taut, corded muscle in his back and shoulders as you grapple to hang on as tight as you can. Your orgasm hits your hard and fast, and he encourages you through it, taking his time to give you long, controlled strokes. It’s as pleasurable for him as it is for you. “‘Atta girl,” he rasps, lips moving against your ear. Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle your cries, but he pulls it away and threads his fingers with yours, pressing it onto the pillow. “I wanna hear it.”

Your moans are what drive him over the edge.

He buries his face against the side of your neck, panting heavily as he comes, driving into you so hard that you can almost feel the mattress beneath you begin to sag under the weight. You cradle his head in your hands and link your legs around his waist, boneless and languid in the aftermath of your own pleasure. When he moves, you move with him, riding out the waves together until you’re both too tired to move another muscle.

Neither of you speak for a while. He lies on his back with an arm around your shoulders while you curl against him, tuned into his heartbeat and swirling little patterns into the hair on his chest. It’s comforting to feel him next to you, to watch his chest rise and fall as he steadies his breathing, to soak up the warmth of his skin against yours.

You’re the first to break the silence. “Did everyone else go back to camp last night?”

Arthur nods slowly. “Something tells me they planned all this.”

“Planned it? You mean…” You lift your arm slowly and flick your wrist to acknowledge the room you’re laying in. “This?” You lift your chin and grin at him. “Or getting us together?”

“Room was paid for before I even had a chance to ask if they had one,” he explains. “Think it was Mrs. Adler.”

You vaguely recall her shouting something about a room after you kissed Arthur last night, and you shake your head. “You complaining?”

He turns to his side, draping an arm across your hip. “Me? Never.” You’re suddenly pressed beneath him once again; from the looks of it, you won’t be getting out of this bed anytime soon. “Specially when I’ve got you here to help me keep warm.”

[nanaslutt]

gojo satoru as master jinshi in the honey scene (apothecary diaries)

ʚ pairing: master gojo x apothecary reader

ʚ cont: finger sucking, dirty talk, suggestive, teasing, deep throating (fingers), inappropriate use of honey

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

“good girls should be rewarded” master gojo dipped his fingers into the pot of honey, revealing slender fingers covered in the sticky substance

it was hard to ignore how sensual and beautiful his hands looked… and how particularly arousing they were with something sticky dripping from the tips. you nearly short circuited when he raised his fingers upwards

“i- master gojo-“ you backed up, hands raised ready to decline. surely he couldn’t be meaning for you to suck the honey off them?? in broad daylight?? and with master ijichi by the door?

“cmon, you like sweets don’t you?” he cooed.

your body went ridged when you backed into the wall behind you, and master gojo continues to crowd you against it, his frame towering over you and bracketing you against the wall

you couldn’t see master ijichi like this, it made you think you were alone, just for a second.

“just a taste, you deserve a reward after all.” his voice was much like the substance on his fingers—honeyed and too lovely to resist.

he held them just before your lips, the honey dripping onto the floor between you when you didn’t move. you looked down at his slender fingers, aching. “just a taste?”

he nodded. “mm.”

you were hesitant to part your lips, but ultimately did so when the throb between your thighs commanded your brain to act. your tongue poked between your lips, and you opened your mouth for him.

master gojo made a sound of approval when he placed his fingers on your tongue, sliding the sweetness deeper into your mouth. your taste buds burst, setting alight as he slid down your tongue. “yes, good girl. close.”

so you did. your eyes locked with his, and the action felt more intimate than before. he had a lazy smile on his face, eyes flickering between your lips around his fingers, and your eyes that begged him for something not even you knew.

you swirled you tongue around his fingers, swallowing the sweetness bit by bit. his breath hitched on your first swallow, followed by a barely there nod. “there you go, tastes good right?”

you nodded around his fingers, hands twitching at your sides to wrap your hands around his wrist and pull him in deeper.

“mm, keep going. lick and suck until they’re clean, you deserve every last drop.” you didn’t know if you were imagining it, but his voice sounded headier than before.

you swirled your tongue around his fingers, sucking as he said until all you tasted was his skin and the residual sweetness there from your saliva. master gojo pushed his fingers deeper unexpectedly, making you choke, gaging around them.

he groaned them, quiet, but it was there. there was no more honey, so you thought he would have taken back his fingers by now, but his eyes were locked in a trance, enthralled by your plush lips that continued to suck away.

“did you like it?” he asked “do you like it?” he pulled his fingers back slowly, and you thought he was going to give you your mouth back, but he instead pushed them back in, repeating that intoxicating rhythm a few more times.

you nodded, an embarrassing sound choked in your throat. “you’re so eager, and to think you were hesitant before.” you blushed, and he increased his rhythm, his cheeks flushing gradually. “tell me, was it the honey you really wanted? or something else?”

you gasped when a knee was shoved between your own. you placed your hands on his thigh, not knowing whether to push him away or pull him closer. the pressure between your thoughts felt so good.

“it seems to me like the little apothecary likes it… likes my fingers in her mouth?” his breath hitched when you gagged. “am i wrong? hm?” the sounds of sucking increased, bouncing off the walls and making you dizzy.

you squeezed your thighs around his knee, and a smile graced his expression.

he pushed harder.

“good girl. such a willing and accepting mouth.” his words made your head spin, and you whined around his fingers. “you suck so well, perhaps you would want something-“

master ijichi cleared his throat then, and you were thrown back into reality. shoving his chest with a gasp, he jerked back, taking his wet fingers and his knee with him.

he looked shocked, and his chest still rose and fell heavily. you were worried you offended him, before a smile made his cheeks dimple, and you released a breathe. he looked over his shoulder quickly, snickering at what he saw before he graced you with his attention once more.

you still ached. you didn’t want to stop, and that need increased tenfold when he leaned in and whispered against your ear. “if you’re at all curious as to where this was going as i am… find me later.”

your skin burned with the kiss he pressed there. then, he turned his back and was gone, leaving you a mess of hormones alone in the room.

[taegimood]

— nudes?! (c.yj) ♡

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader genre: best friends to ?, non-idol au, suggestive rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1k warnings: mention/description of reader’s nudes, brief mention of masturbation (m), brief mention of sex, implication of sexy time at the end, yj has a boner, they’re both horny idk synopsis: what happens when your best friend who secretly has the hots for you accidentally sees your nudes?

requested forever ago by @mapofthemazeinthemirror <3 [blog status: semi-hiatus, requests closed]

| soobin ver. | beomgyu ver. | taehyun ver. | kai ver. |

masterlist

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you and yeonjun are close. really close. best friends and partners in crime, who have no problem letting each other into your lives — even into your phones.

which in this case, however, does not turn out the way that either of you expect.

you and yeonjun aren't unfamiliar with the topic of sex; you've ranted to each other many times before about your different sexual escapades, but of course there are always lines, and the line that yeonjun finds himself accidentally crossing right now as he stares at your open camera roll is something that he does not know what to do with. what he once swore would always be a harmless crush, a secret attraction that he's admittedly sometimes used to get himself off but nothing more, has suddenly just shifted into that something more entirely.

it started out with him coming over for a typical hangout day, letting himself in and plopping down on your bed to wait for you as you stepped into the shower.

he's just scrolling through his phone when he hears the music from your speaker cut out and your following groan of frustration.

"jun?" you call. "can you see what's up with spotify? my phone is next to the sink."

"yeah," he calls back as he trudges over to the bathroom, reaching through the slightly cracked-open door to retrieve your phone. leaning against the doorframe from the outside, humming the song that was playing before the music stopped, he types in your passcode and prepares to locate your spotify app.

the melody catches in his throat and his humming comes to an abrupt halt at the sight that he's greeted with instead.

your open camera roll. your open camera roll with pictures of you.

your open camera roll with pictures of you naked.

he knows he shouldn't look — he knows he should close out of the app, bleach his eyes, carry on to spotify, and pretend this never happened.

but FUCK…

he had no idea you could look this sexy.

slowly, guiltily, his thumb hovers lower and lower until he finds himself clicking on the first picture.

it’s even better than what he’s imagined — he swears his lip may start bleeding from how hard he's biting down on it, the sight of your curves, your tits, your thighs, the hint of your pussy, wiping away all thoughts of anything else. these were pictures you had just taken before your shower; pictures you'd taken mere minutes before he'd arrived to your apartment.

his cock twitches in his pants.

he's getting harder and harder as he scrolls through each photo, enraptured by your body, by the look in your eyes that he's never seen on you before - each new pose sending a lick of fire shooting through his body as he fights the guilt that knocks at the corner of his mind.

who is she sending these to???

jealousy. it takes him a moment to realize that the thought makes him jealous.

suddenly he doesn't want any other man to see you like this, to touch you or kiss you or feel you; fuck, you're naked right now just like this, with only a door to separate the two of you, and he feels no better than a pervy middle school boy caught red-handed as he's yanked from his filthy thoughts when you call out, "jun??? is the app not working??"

with a jolt he's scrambling to put your phone back onto the counter, nearly missing, before slamming the bathroom door shut and rushing back to your bed where his own phone lays discarded.

what the hell am i supposed to-

"jun!!! what the-

.............. fuck."

after a painfully long pause, the realization dawns in your voice at the same time as yeonjun's stomach drops. he freezes as he hears the shower come to a stop.

another long pause.

the bathroom door slowly clicks open and you peek your head out. "yeonjun..."

"i-i'm sorry, i didn't look. i mean i did. i-i mean i'll forget that i did. i'm sorry, fuck, i shouldn't have. i'll uh- i'll just let you, um.. i'll just go."

he's halfway out the door before you can blink and you scramble after him in nothing but a towel, not caring that you're dripping all over your floors as you call out, "yeonjun, wait!", nearly slipping as you tug him to a stop in the hallway by the back of his shirt.

you can tell that he's trying his hardest not to look at you when you force him to turn around, the tips of his ears red and the tent in his pants obvious, his height an advantage as he suddenly finds the wall past your head to be the most interesting thing in the world.

you're the one who called after him and yet you're not sure what to say; how are you supposed to tell your smoking hot best friend that you took those pictures with him in mind?

you're not sure exactly what he's thinking, but the raging boner that he's currently failing to cover up is enough for you to decide that there's only one way to find out.

yeonjun clears his throat. "you-"

"i'm gonna drop my towel now."

"WHAT- w-wait-!!"

"you don't want it?"

"i- i.." your sudden declaration was enough to shock yeonjun into looking straight at you, eyes huge and caught by surprise, and now he can't bring himself to look away at the sight of you standing there — wet hair framing your pretty, bare face, the sweet scent from your body wash wafting over him, skin still glistening and rivulets of water dripping down your neck, down your collarbones, down towards your.. your…

he swallows hard.

the soft swell of your breasts pushed up by the little towel that you're ready to drop for him has stolen all of his focus. everything that he saw in those pictures, everything that's now set him on fire, is standing right in front of him begging to be touched; he watches as a bead of water disappears between the curve of your breasts, and that's the tipping point.

his darkened eyes meet yours.

"i want it."