#and I do not know ANYONE else who has even the slightest desire to read something like switched by pseudoleigha

[chthonicrose]

hot friendship tips: randomly meet someone who has the same reference pool of internet culture and media as you on tumblr and then live together for ten years so you've inflicted everything you care about on each other so they always know exactly what you're talking about even when you're completely incoherently trying to describe something you only half remember and sound insane

[bitchface24-7]

THE SEDUCTIVE PROFESSOR VIKTOR

synopsis: Professor Viktor, the most sought out and dreamt of professor at Piltover Academy. Luckily for you… you’re his favourite student.

warnings: age gap (viktor’s gotta be anywhere in his 30s-40s to be a professor, reader is in their 20s (early to late I don’t really care) ), power imbalance, dom!viktor, I tried my best to make this gender-neutral, this isn’t gonna be a full on story, just bullet points I come up with, no beta we die like most of the characters in Arcane

genre: m/f, m/m (however you label yourself, I hope you can read this and enjoy it!)

PART 2

Professor Viktor hasn’t been a professor for very long at the academy. After he and his partner Jayce Talis revolutionized machinery and magic in the form of Hextech, well… the academy and the council wanted their genius shared with the younger generations.

“The Science Behind Magic: HXT101” became a hit. This course had the highest approval ratings, least amount of absences, and highest amount of A students in the history of the academy.

Viktor’s proud of his students work, everyone else sees it as it is. Everyone is doing amazing due to their hot professor.

His attitude, his humour, his accent, his beauty. Professor Viktor is sin incarnate and doesn’t seem to realize it. The dreamy sighs, the lustful gazes. It all goes over his head like water down a ducks back.

Having Jayce come in as a guest speaker doesn’t help in the slightest.

The two men are gorgeous. Jayce with his broad shoulders, messy hair, and wonderful beard. A few strands of grey focused on his temples.

Viktor with his long hair, sultry eyes, lithe frame that’s mostly delectable legs. He dresses wonderfully too. All tailored to fit his frame perfectly. His tiny waist seems almost impossibly small.

Viktor tries his best to be impartial to his students; neutral as a good teacher should be… but there’s something about you.

You’re bright, intelligent, well-spoken. Overall beautiful. He can’t stop looking at you during lectures, he can’t stop thinking about you in the privacy of his own home; in his office as well.

You always pay attention in class, you ask riveting and inspiring questions, you continue the conversation Viktor is desperately trying to create to invigorate the students the way he and Jayce were all those years ago.

Your pretty eyes, soft looking lips, shiny hair. The way the academy uniform compliments your figure in all the right ways. He’s a man obsessed.

He knows you’re at least physically attracted to him. The way you bite your lip when you look at him, when you shyly look down when he compliments your work with a sultry “good job”

How you jolt in your seat from daydreaming when he comes up behind you and whispers in your ear to pay attention.

He wants to see how you react to other stimuli. A practical theory if you will.

Will you be good and listen to Viktor’s every command? Or will you be bratty; needing to be put over Viktor’s lap and your ass reddened to be taught a lesson. Would you prefer his hand, a ruler, or maybe even his cane?

How pretty would you look on your knees, taking his cock down your throat? Would your eyes water? Would you choke? Or are you secretly a slut, who can take it no problem.

Are you a moaner, a whimperer, a screamer, or a crier?

He knows his blatant desires for you are cementing you as his “favourite student” you can do things others can only dream of.

You can come to class late and not need a valid excuse, you can borrow any materials without reasoning, you can stay as late as you want during office hours; when anyone else would be politely but firmly told that their time was up.

People have noticed, everyone but you it seems. The rest of the class can’t help but envy you. How the hell do you have such a drop dead gorgeous man wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even realize it!

You’re going to realize it soon, when Viktor tells you to stay behind after class. That he has a theory he’d like to discuss with you.

That theory leaves you with your face feeling like it’s on fire, your throat sore, your body aching in a delicious way, your legs bowed, and your appearance completely disheveled.

Viktor gets the answers he’s been desperately craving and is not disappointed. He can’t wait for the semester to be over. He wants you, and he can pursue you when he’s no longer your professor.

He just gave you a taste of what he’ll give you everyday if you agree to be his.

(You’ll agree to be his. He rocked your shit)

[deathslbx]

i just need to rant for a sec...

the whole idea that azriel only lusts after elain, simply because he hadn't gotten that far in his planning for a future with her, doesn't explain everything else in the text we've been given. it doesn't provide solid ground for anyone else to get their shot with him, either...

this man was in love with mor for 500 years. so much so that it was easily noticed and pointed out by everyone. everyone knew how he felt, the same way they all knew, mor included, that he was never going to act on it. and those closest to him had no idea what really went through his mind all that time. he never opened up to them, he never allowed anyone to read him past the obvious longing.

he never tried. he never fought. he never asked questions. he just accepted it as it was.

why? because he didn't think that he was worthy of mor, he thought she would be happier without him. he admitted to feyre that he'd been alive for centuries and still didn't know where he truly belonged. he tells us that his shadows are truly the only consistent company he has ever had. who he will always have.

rhys tells us that there will come a day when azriel has to decide if he is going to fight for her or let her go, and that it won’t be because some other male insults her or beds her. do you know what that implies? that he has to confront his feelings, that he has to make the decision to fight or let go, and that azriel’s choice will be based on his own emotional growth and understanding of their relationship.

and what has been pointed out to us beyond that in the story? what has feyre noticed, what has nesta and cassian noticed?

a significant change.

a headache powder that could honestly be seen as a silly, fun little gift, is the one thing he's admitted to staring at on his nightstand for over a year. is something that had him tipping his head back to laugh, a sound feyre had never heard before, dark and joyous. that same night, it's him and elain in the sitting room at three in the morning. him listening to elain's gardening plans while everyone else had gone off to sleep.

when he's standing in the doorway and not with the rest of his family by the fire, a pretty lie is told to cover up his truth. 'his secret to tell, never hers,' accompanied by a comforting squeeze because nesta takes a quick look around and understands exactly why he's keeping himself away.

and cassian... bless him, has said he has not had to be a buffer for him and mor as often. he notes that azriel is finally letting go, after centuries, and can't understand why that is. what's changed?

there could be honorable mentions in there as well... mor humming after discussing elain returning truth-teller, the blade azriel had never before let anyone else touch. amren smirking over her glass. rhys stopping their near kiss before they got in way over their heads.

but then we come to find out that azriel, despite how much he might want elain, keeps himself away for a reason. the sight and smell of her mating bond is something he can't stand to be around. so instead, he avoids her, his family, and stays in the HoW and trains late into the night when he can't sleep. he pleasures himself to thoughts of her when his own shadows are too tired to stay up with him. and even still, he looks at that same gift on his nightstand.

'this will be invaluable.'

again, this man who doesn't believe he's worthy, doesn't believe he deserves to have what others have, thinks he's sullied beyond belief because of what he's done, has let go and moved on. and even still, he has never had a reason to question anything further. has never loved someone who has shown any interest in him, who has loved or wanted him back. he has never been a choice.

all he can do is want, and need, and desire. all he can do is stare longingly at a gift that shows him someone has paid attention to him. has spent even the slightest bit of their time trying to understand him. see him when others can't.

and when he finds out that for once, the girl he wants actually wants him back, chooses him instead of walking away, he's supposed to have everything figured out? he's supposed to suddenly believe the idea of a future, with a mate or otherwise, is possible for him? that a pipe dream he's already spent centuries on, might actually be possible for him now?

no. because elain is mated. her mate, in fact, is in the same house. they had never let it get that far before. only glances and brushes of their fingers was ever allowed. he had no idea if she felt the same. even though he knows that she is well aware of why he isn't around as much, why he chooses to stay away.

he understands her, too. more than anyone else has ever tried to do. no one truly sees her, remember?

but in that one moment, when she breathes 'yes,' ... 'offer and permission,' looking into his eyes openly, with so much trust and hope, he thinks it's okay to be selfish just once. to allow himself the chance to taste. just that once and that'll be it. because a reality where he gets to have anything with her isn't possible, she was already given to another.

so, tell me how he is supposed to answer rhys' questions after that? how is he supposed to be this perfect, unflawed character with all the right answers when all his life the things he's wanted never mattered? love, a mate, a future with children? it doesn't matter what he wants. he doesn't think that he deserves it, and he's already admitted that to us. he doesn't allow himself to think, or plan beyond a significant moment in time because he's never been allowed to.

he's never been given a reason to.

but do you know what we did get after that moment? him asking a question, 'what if the cauldron was wrong?' one he had never dared ask out loud before, not in all that time he spent pining after mor. why then, in that specific moment, would he be willing to ask? if he only cares about elain on a physical level, why ask a question that raises the stakes and changes the game for him entirely?

why then would he try to fight for anything at all if he already knows the outcome? if he already knows he doesn't deserve her? if he knows she's mated to another even if it doesn't make sense to him?

these are the right questions. these are the questions people need to be asking themselves, because these are the ones we're going to get the answers to. these questions tie into his entire emotional arc.

he's not the bad boy some people think he is. he's not an asshole in one person’s story and the hero in someone else's. he's been the same guy that was always right in front of us, we have just been given more of him to see.

[ivymarquis]

Konig and his therapist?👉🏻👈🏻

Sin Sunday

Unethical

I fell asleep in the middle of writing this LISTEN ITS FINE

Pairing| König x gn!reader Rating| E Word Count| ~500 Kinks/Content/Warning| Exceptionally unethical behavior on the part of the reader, can be read as PiV or PiA depending on your preference

This is so wrong. You know it is. You never thought you’d be one of the people who do this.

You’re risking your job. Hell, you’re risking your career, your license, your reputation. Everything you’ve spent your whole life working for- woosh! Down the drain just like that.

And if the other shoe ever drops, you’ll be unable to blame anyone other than yourself. You know better.

But nothing has ever felt as right as König’s body above yours.

It’d be sweet if the man was crooning in German in your ear, but given his impressive stature you’re treated to an unobstructed view of his very impressive torso that obstructs your ability to see anything else.

What’s less sweet and more feral is the way he’s got your knees folded up to your ears, pounding away at you like it’s the only time he’ll ever have access between your legs (it should be- hell, none of this should have happened to begin with).

The rather sturdy desk rocks with each cant of his hips as he hits that certain spot inside you that has your eyes rolling and your mind melting out of your ears.

God you don’t even care if you get caught at this point. “Feels so good- please don’t stop,” you praise and beg at once.

He lurches above you at that- the praise shooting right down his spine at your words.

You can’t even say you’re surprised. So many military men have such complexes about being eager to please and no outlet where that desire is acknowledged or praised.

König doesn’t get a cookie for following orders or doing his job out on the field. It is expected. And given his prominent rise to his current position, the pressure has only increased and without any sort of acknowledgment of the fact that he is a person and occasionally would benefit from being told he’s doing a good job.

He’s nothing but a dog desperate for a scratch behind the ears and a reassurance he’s a good boy.

He practically melts under your hands- your touches, your words. “Yes,” you encourage, nails scratching at his back, “right there!”

König has the size and stature to knock the air out from your lungs with each thrust, making your head fuzzy with lust as you’re reduced to your most basic form.

Your orgasm isn’t a surprise in the slightest but the intensity catches you off guard. You clamp your own hand over your mouth to stifle the embarrassing cries that want to escape you.

Lying limp on your desk, now you’re little more than a breathing fleshlight- something for him to use, to chase for his own pleasure.

The pace of his thrusts change, and God you wish you had the energy to make him wringe one more orgasm out of you. It’s obvious the way his focus shifts from pleasing you to using your body for his own pleasure. It’s hot as hell, ethics aside.

When he stiffens and groans in climax, broken muttered German words fall from his lips freely (if you had any idea what he was saying, your eyebrows would reach so far up they’d reach your forehead. Someone has a mouth on him.)

It feels wrong.

This is a mistake and you know it.

And yet, as he dresses and zips his pants and puts that hood back on, somehow he’s got the nerve to be bashful as he asks you “Same time next week?”

[highwayphantoms]

wip thurwensday

who cares what day of the week it is anyway, amirite

tagged by @nirikeehan <3

I've been pokin away at a second attempt at a wip I started a couple years ago, so here's a snippet of that!

-

24 Cloudreach, 9:43 Dragon

After a full week, Fenris was quite certain that Anders had been avoiding him. A reasonable reaction, all things considered, but a decidedly inconvenient one. Anders tried, Varric had said. If anyone could speak to why Briar had stayed behind, it would have been Anders—yet he was nowhere to be found. Skyhold was not that big, and historically Anders had only ever ventured into a small handful of areas outside his room: the library, where the Inquisition’s few mages tended to linger; the tavern, but only when Varric wasn’t there; the gardens, just outside his room. Unless the mage had somehow developed the ability to become literally invisible—which was very much not a thing Fenris had ever heard of a mage doing—he had to have been somewhere else.

Most likely: his room.

And so Fenris had planted himself outside Anders’ door. Sooner or later, the mage would have to leave—if only to get something to eat—and until then, he would wait. Emmy was in the gardens with Bitsy and occupied with a book; she probably wouldn’t move from her spot until she’d read the book cover to cover. She didn’t know yet. He would have to tell her, sooner or later, but not until he knew for certain. Varric had not said that Briar was dead. So long as there was even the slightest chance…

The door opened. Anders emerged, dressed for a trip beyond the walls of the oddly-warm fortress and a pack slung over one shoulder, and promptly froze upon recognizing Fenris where he leaned against the low barrier that separated the exposed hall from the gardens proper. After a moment, Anders seemed to collect himself, and he said, “Did you need something, Fenris?”

Pushing off the barrier and taking a couple of steps to close the distance between them, Fenris replied in a measured tone, “You left her behind.”

Anders sighed and lifted a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose in a clearly exasperated fashion. “Not by choice,” he said. “And I plan to go back for her. Whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes?” Fenris echoed, mildly surprised. He knew the two of them had been close, once. They’d re-established a civil relationship, able to work together again, but the last he’d known, Briar had still been holding Anders at arm’s length, unwilling or unable to let him any closer. Evidently the same could not be said of the mage. “I take it that means the Inquisitor is not offering any assistance.”

“Ha. No. No, she is not. She told me to, and I quote, kick rocks.” Anders rolled his eyes and shifted the weight of his pack on his shoulder. “I’m heading back to Kirkwall. If anyone can point me in the right direction to find another way to cross the Veil, it’ll be that… whatever-he-is who operates the Black Emporium.”

He nodded slowly, considering. “Then I wish you luck.”

-

Tag yourself, if you so desire! Or maybe I'll spontaneously decide to tag some people next Wednesday. We'll see lol.

[misophorism]

Captain's Log #4.5

I just wrote a Captain's Log, but I wanted to knock out another one, kinda a sequel. As I'm writing this, I'm again feeling what I described yesterday—the realness of it all; feeling reality as it's intended to be experienced.

Maybe this hurts my Serious Gothic Author aesthetic but I spent some time on Tinder today, and it made me think about the last time I was romantically involved with anyone in this state. It was my last relationship, which ended in 2018 (also mentioned in the last one).

I'm not sure I really have much to say about it that I haven't said already, but thinking about that brought me back to being a teenager. Waking up every morning at 5 am, sitting in my bedroom freestyling to the walls over bsd.u's late night bumps, then watching the sunrise and desperately wishing I had someone to watch it with.

I'm a hopeless romantic. Go figure. You wouldn't get that impression from The Misophorism Trilogy, to be sure. A Sallow Fortune... well, probably. Same with The Suicide and The Scythe.

I love romance, and I love connection, but I also hate it. If anyone reading this followed my old blog or read any of the Captain's Logs you're probably aware that the central tension in my life from late 2020 to now has been the conflict of vulnerability vs. connection—solitude or commiseration.

I've found that I'm much happier in solitude. The Serious Gothic Author part of me won out in the end; my ideal is a cabin in the woods, snow-caressed, a pen in my hand as I write and write, never speaking a word until I give up the ghost.

...but wouldn't it be nice to hold hands once in a while?

Wouldn't it be nice to be told I'm handsome by someone who actually means it?

Wouldn't it be nice to feel desired?

Wouldn't it be nice to make someone else feel desired? To give them gifts? To share my passions to someone who listens to every word? To hear their joys, share it with them, and withstand this awful existence together?

It certainly would.

And then comes the problem. With all of these potentials comes their ends, and it always happens. There will never be a point where agony does not eventually follow. I fuck up, and am left. I do nothing wrong, and am left. It's an inevitable truth.

My last relationship was awful. I mentioned in the previous Captain's Log that I was diagnosed with PTSD following it. One of my triggers was being ghosted. I don't mean just being ignored for a day or two, though that was certainly painful—I mean complete and total cessation of contact.

I tried reconnecting with people over the years after that relationship. Time and time again, it failed. Didn't get much farther than a third date. Sometimes, it wasn't agonizing, just disappointing. A few times potential partners knew my PTSD triggers and trampled all over them willfully—obviously this was mental torture. And the last person is someone I still think about now and again.

She was beautiful. Every time I talked to her, I laughed. She made me blush—I'm black. How the fuck do you make a black person blush? I don't know, but she did it, red cheeks visible. We talked on the phone for hours and hours almost every day for months. I have a distinct memory of staying up until two or three A.M. in the extended stay hotel, laughing so loud I probably pissed off my neighbors, but I didn't care. It was the first time in years I actually started to fall in love.

We went on a date in downtown Richmond. It began with a picnic. Even after talking on the phone for two months, no FaceTime, it was not awkward in the slightest, at least from my perspective. I was still a bit guarded because I'm a cynical asshole, but it quickly melted away and I asked if I could kiss her. She covered her mouth, grinned, and said yes. I ended up kissing her like seven times.

We walked through the rainy streets, talking about her courses, the locals, and where she was from. She was a student at Virginia Commonwealth University, thus we went into their cafeteria and sat down across from each other, talking for a long while. I wanted so badly to kiss her again in there; so much of me wanted to be all over her, but not in a sexual way. I just wanted to kiss her over and over.

Eventually we parted ways. I got home, over the moon. Called Gavin, one of my best friends. As we talked I texted her, and she told me she wasn't pursuing a relationship because commitment scared her.

Obviously I was devastated, but tried to be understanding, asking if we could still be friends and if I could still call her pretty. She said, "Of course, and I can still call you handsome."

You've guessed it. That was the last thing she ever said to me. The next month, I texted her once a day for the first week, then once every other day, then once in a while, and then not at all, eventually sending her a Captain's Log and leaving her alone forever. But that month was probably the worst my PTSD has ever been. Constant nightmares, couldn't sleep. Anxiety all the time. Abyssal despair.

My PTSD did not develop from ghosting—not sure if that's even possible. It developed from being pressured (inadvertently, I think) into sex, screamed at constantly, belittled, ridiculed to my friends, schemed against, and having my trust constantly broken through lies and manipulation. Ghosting was part of that manipulation, and it brought me right back to Winter 2017/2018. Every day felt like that awful December. Didn't help that this happened in winter, too (2021/2022).

I spent so many hours in that extended stay just trying to stave off the constant, agonizing despair gnawing at my psyche. Playing Sims for no particular reason. Staring at the wall. Trying to write. Wanting to hang myself. The nadir was a fight with my mom when she told me, in the middle of my suicidal depression, to "act like an adult." I cussed her out for the first time in my life, little Adam's rage bubbling to the surface, and she tried to put her hand around my throat. I pushed her violently and she nearly fell, I stormed out the room. The night before I had written a suicide note and wandered outside, trying to will myself onto the road.

I'm doing a lot better now, but you (whoever I'm talking to—the wall, I guess) have an idea why I'm so avoidant nowadays. That's a lot of power for someone to have over me. Just cutting contact—something so easy for some people—is enough to plunge me into depression, despair, and anhedonia so severe that I'm drifting through twenty-degree wind hoping a car is driving fast enough to kill me upon impact.

...so why risk it?

Romance would feel amazing with this newfound "real" feeling I have.

But maybe the despair would feel even worse.

[bitches-and-bucket-hats]

17:24 09/06/24 London UK

the last time i posted on this blog i was 19. i read the tags i left under the posts i reblogged, heartbroken about some boy i liked. i didnt use any names or any defining features, and i cant even pin down who i was speaking about by looking at the date. since these posts ive not felt anything for anyone (apart from a 'crush' i hit on a few times out of boredom, mental illness, and most notably drunken carelessness). since these posts theres been a pandemic, 2 degrees, lost friendships, and a bout of true self destruction that my 2014 self would pride herself on.

im now 23 with scars normally seen on someone 10 years younger, an unshakable prison of guilt due to my theorised alcoholism, and most confusing of all, an impenetrable wall of intimacy. i prayed and hoped into the universe to stop me from feeling what i did in these posts and now i find myself not sure if love exists for me. in one of the tags i said "dont fall into anyone else but yourself". 4 years later i cant ask for help despite my safety being in danger, and im so removed from romantic feelings im ashamed viewing or thinking about anything connected to intimacy. i wanted the feeling to go away but i failed to realize that feeling was what kept me on earth, what made me 'mortal' or applicable to the rules of the world. i feel like a god, an elusive figure with different standards and manifestations as everyone else. i fail to exist in the world i logically know im in. i feel guilt on every action every step i take and when i hold back on doing anything out of fear i hyperfixate on things ive done in a drunken rage for any connection to a human because of the starvation in my sober 'existance'. i feel as if i went into covid and died there. i never fully came back. i felt romantically and sexually stunted, but made progress in drunken nights, i felt like a party girl who loved a good time. now i know im an unloveable alcoholic. i felt as if the time i needed to settle into my progress and discovery is gone. it was stolen from me. i had hope and wit and intelligence and fun; and none of these survived the fire. i was about to write about how i have had good experiences learning about myself but i am wrong! i have had those but this does not account for the disturbance we had that left nothing behind. the sprouts didnt survive the frost. i wasnt given enough time to figure it out. I am so angry at the world for taking this from me and yet all i feel is sadness and a lack of control.

talk in general about my pain but its about the capability of recieving love. something i know i do not deserve or am capable of. if this is to be read by anyone other that myself do not tell me otherwise because i do not believe in your words or sentiment and i believe you are a mortal in a mortal world and i am simply not able to function in the same way as you. i believe i am fundementally different to you in that my story, as given by the universe, does not function in the slightest bit in the lens of romance and love. i show up in other colors of the universe but the red of love, i disappear. i fear my life i have hurt myself so much ive disrupted my chances of making it out, and i grasp onto the one person that revealed the smallest glimmer of hope that i could exist in this world. and trust me reader when i say glimmer i mean the smallest flash of hope, its even foolish to put it into words. i do not feel fundamentally flawed and incapable of love, i have graduated to feeling as if the human pleasures and desires are not my calling, and i am doomed to live in a world in which i do not exist. how the fuck do i live in a world that i do not exist? i exist in moments, sure, but my self is not realized or even has the potential to be fully realized.

how do i accept my existence as a being incapable of giving and receiving love? but more importantly, how do I stop feeling so lonely?

[dfroza]

I know for certain the pressure isn’t coming from God. He keeps calling you to the truth.

You know what they say, “Just a little yeast causes all the dough to rise,” so even the slightest detour from the truth will take you to a destination you do not desire. Despite this, I’m confident because the Lord reassures me that you will truly hear and take my message to heart.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 5th chapter of the letter of Galatians:

So stand strong for our freedom! The Anointed One freed us so we wouldn’t spend one more day under the yoke of slavery, trapped under the law.

Listen because I, Paul, am going to make this message very clear so it cannot be misunderstood: if you undergo the rite of circumcision, then all that the Anointed accomplished will be lost on you. And understand this: if you choose to be circumcised, then you will oblige yourself to do every single rule of the law for the rest of your life. You, and anyone else who seeks to be on the right side of God through the law, have effectively been cut off from the Anointed, circumcised from grace, and cast off from the favor of God. We, on the other hand, continue to live through the Spirit’s power and wait confidently in the hope that things will be put right through faith. Here’s the thing: in Jesus the Anointed whether you are circumcised or not makes no difference. What makes a difference is faith energized by love.

Who has impeded your progress and kept you from obeying the truth? You were off to such a good start. I know for certain the pressure isn’t coming from God. He keeps calling you to the truth. You know what they say, “Just a little yeast causes all the dough to rise,” so even the slightest detour from the truth will take you to a destination you do not desire. Despite this, I’m confident because the Lord reassures me that you will truly hear and take my message to heart. Besides, I also know that these troublemakers, whoever they are, will answer to God and be judged accordingly. As for me, brothers and sisters, if I continue to preach circumcision—as these agitators claim—then why do I still face persecution? If I were to preach a compromised version of the good news, then the scandal of the cross would come to an end. I really wish that these people who weigh you down with corrupt counsel would mutilate themselves!

Brothers and sisters, God has called you to freedom! Hear the call, and do not spoil this gift by using your liberty to engage in what your flesh desires; instead, use it to serve each other as Jesus taught through love. For the whole law comes down to this one instruction: “Love your neighbor as yourself,” so why all this vicious gnawing on each other? If you are not careful, you will find you’ve eaten each other alive!

Here’s my instruction: walk in the Spirit, and let the Spirit bring order to your life. If you do, you will never give in to your selfish and sinful cravings. For everything the flesh desires goes against the Spirit, and everything the Spirit desires goes against the flesh. There is a constant battle raging between them that prevents you from doing the good you want to do. But when you are led by the Spirit, you are no longer subject to the law.

It’s clear that our flesh entices us into practicing some of its most heinous acts: participating in corrupt sexual relationships, impurity, unbridled lust, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, arguing, jealousy, anger, selfishness, contentiousness, division, envy of others’ good fortune, drunkenness, drunken revelry, and other shameful vices that plague humankind. I told you this clearly before, and I only tell you again so there is no room for confusion: those who give in to these ways will not inherit the kingdom of God.

The Holy Spirit produces a different kind of fruit: unconditional love, joy, peace, patience, kindheartedness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. You won’t find any law opposed to fruit like this. Those of us who belong to the Anointed One have crucified our old lives and put to death the flesh and all the lusts and desires that plague us.

Now since we have chosen to walk with the Spirit, let’s keep each step in perfect sync with God’s Spirit. This will happen when we set aside our self-interests and work together to create true community instead of a culture consumed by provocation, pride, and envy.

The Letter of Galatians, Chapter 5 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Paul has been preaching about the call of God to freedom, and so he now spells it out: we are done with the demands of the law; now we are free to live in the Spirit and to be truly right with God. As free people, the Spirit gives us the characteristics of Jesus; we, too, can freely love in joy and peace. We can have patience along with kindness and faithfulness that can only come from the Father. We can reflect the goodness of God while being gentle in operating with self-control. For those who follow Him and live in the Spirit, these characteristics or fruits are a gift from God. As we grow in the faith, we find that we belong to God and can walk daily in the Spirit.

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 21st chapter of the book of Leviticus:

The Eternal One addressed Moses.

Eternal One: Go, talk to the priests, Aaron’s sons, and tell them that I don’t want any priest to make himself ritually impure by having contact with a dead person in Israel. There is an exception: a priest is allowed to touch the dead body of his closest family members—his mother, father, son, daughter, brother, and any sister who is still a virgin when she dies. Since she has no husband, the priest is her closest relative, so he is allowed to make himself impure for her. A priest must not render himself impure and defile himself by touching the corpse of a person related to him only by marriage. Priests are not allowed to mourn like other people by shaving their heads, trimming their beards, or cutting gashes into their bodies. Priests are to be holy to Me and not treat My sacred name with contempt. They bring the fire-offerings to Me, the food of their God, and so they must be sacred. Priests are not to marry women defiled by prostitution or women who are divorced, for priests are holy to Me.

You must set the priest apart as special and treat him as holy, for he brings the food to your God. The priests must be considered holy to you because I, the Eternal, am holy, and I have set you apart from all other nations. If a priest’s daughter dabbles in prostitution, then she desecrates herself and also her father. She is to be burned to death.

Of the brotherhood of priests, the high priest is the one whose head has been anointed with oil and who has been ordained to wear the sacred garments. He is not to leave his hair uncombed or tear his garments when he is mourning. He is not to go near any dead bodies—not even his father’s or mother’s—or else he will make himself impure. The high priest is not allowed to go outside the sanctuary during the time of mourning and thereby desecrate God’s sanctuary, for he has been anointed with the sacred oil of his God. I am the Eternal One. He is to marry a woman who is a virgin. He is not allowed to choose a widow, a divorced woman, or a prostitute as a wife—any woman who has already had sexual relations. He is only allowed to marry a virgin from his own community. This arrangement will guarantee that his future offspring will not be treated badly among his people, for I am the Eternal who makes him holy.

The Eternal One spoke to Moses.

Eternal One: Go, talk with Aaron, and tell him that throughout future generations those who are physically marred are not allowed to approach the sanctuary and offer food to Me. This includes those who are blind, lame, disfigured, or deformed. It includes those who have a broken foot or an injured hand, hunchbacks, dwarves, anyone with a defective eye or a festering rash or scabs or crushed testicles. No one from Aaron’s offspring who has a physical defect is allowed to approach the sanctuary and present fire-offerings to Me; since he is not perfect, he must not approach to offer his God’s food. He is allowed to eat a portion of the food offered to God, including the sacred and most sacred, but he is not allowed to go behind the veil or approach the altar because of his imperfection. This is the rule so that he does not desecrate My holy places. I am the Eternal One who consecrates him.

So Moses told Aaron, Aaron’s sons, and all the Israelites what God had said to him.

The Book of Leviticus, Chapter 21 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for friday, june 21 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New Covenant) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons:

Every person is subconsciously haunted by the need to discover the meaning for its existence (raison d'être). This is especially apparent in today's world of anomie and postmodern nihilism. Masses of people, brainwashed by godless cultural programming, are devoid of existential meaning and therefore collapse into despair. Consequently such people become "men without chests," to use the phrase of C.S. Lewis, that is, people without courage or moral conviction who live like impulsive animals, with neither direction nor restraint... But people are also haunted by their fears and wonder if there is ultimate hope. Is life, the universe, and everything “safe?” Is there some deep reason that I was born? If so, what is the purpose of my existence? How should I live my life? Can I know anything with certainty? Is truth something “real” or is it the product of the imagination?

Sometimes these questions are brought to mind when people feel lost, forlorn, and begin to seriously wonder whether their life has any real significance, though at other times we may witness the glories of the cosmos, or experience the grandeur of nature, or feel the heartstrings of love and these things may impress us that such design and glory is not the result of random and purposeless forces.

Moreover we also sense the intuitive witness of the moral law (or moral reality) whenever we encounter injustice. When we discover the lies, violence, and deception of world leaders, for example, our heart instinctively groans and cries out for justice. When we are victims of a crime we viscerally know that what was done was unfair, wrong, and unjust. The indignation we feel over unjust violence and oppression testifies to moral reality...The “problem of evil” logically implies the “problem of the good.”

These are perennial questions, of course, and many possible answers have been offered by philosophers and thinkers over the ages. And while it may be difficult to discern the truth regarding these concerns, one thing is self-evident, namely that truth is possible, for to deny this is to become an "epistemological nihilist," that is, a skeptic who irrationally insists that he "knows" there is no knowledge, or that it is "true" that there is no truth... This "reductio ad absurdum" rebounds the honest thinker into rethinking his or her assumptions, since absolute skepticism is not an answer to the "big questions" but merely an expression of despair.

The biggest of the "big questions" is whether God, or the Supreme Being, exists, since the answer to this question changes everything. The logically possible answers are "no," "yes," and "I don't know" (i.e., maybe). Regarding the denial that such a God exists, C.S. Lewis wrote: "Atheism turns out to be too simple. If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning." In other words, to (meaningfully) say that there is no meaning in the universe requires a sense of meaning in the first place. This is similar to the skeptical claim that "there is no such thing as "objective" (i.e., factual, ontological) truth. If that were true, then there would be no intelligible correspondence between our words (or ideas) and an external reality. Indeed, there could not be even an approximation that language could describe, since descriptions are the product of a hopelessly idiosyncratic mind, and therefore any idea of "truth" is merely the expression of relativity (or the will to power, as leftist radicals are wanting to say today)... However, if very the statement that "there is no truth" is true then it must be false, since if it is true that there is no truth then the statement that there is no objective truth is no exception, and therefore is also false. This entails that meaning is a "logically necessary" condition of truth (and of falsity). Absolute skepticism is therefore self-stultifying and irrational. Hardboiled atheism, on the other hand, is a breathtakingly arrogant perspective, since the atheist must assume he or she has "god-like" powers to "know" that in every possible world, that is, in every conceivable circumstance, there is no God, no Creator, no "being than which no greater may be conceived." And this is a form of egotistical madness to be sure, a form of “apotheosis,” for the atheist makes the preposterous claim that he knows every possible being or state of being in the entire universe, and that none of these beings or states of being reveal that there is a God...

The last logical option is that yes, God indeed exists and this God has revealed himself both in nature, that is, by the effects of creation, by means of the witness of human history and divine revelation, by means of the testimony of the human conscience, the intuitive sense of right and wrong, and by means of the personal encounters of countless people whose lives have been transformed by God's power and truth revealed in the life, death, and resurrection of Yeshua the Jewish Messiah who is the Savior of the world. These truths cohere regarding the “grand narrative” of all existence. As C.S. Lewis once said, "I believe in Christianity as I believe that the multiplication table is true: not only because it works, but because it is true."

Of course what I have written here merely scratches the surface of a constellation of other questions and concerns, but I am trying to remind us that we are all living within an overarching framework or "worldview" that affects every aspect of our lives, and therefore it is vital to revisit our basic assumptions and to understand what we believe and why it is so important. We cannot be indifferent to these haunting questions of the soul; they are inescapable concerns that call for careful thinking. Shalom chaverim.

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Proverbs 9:10 reading (w/comments):

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/prov9-10-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/prov9-10-lesson.pdf

6.20.24 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel365

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

[ghoulgums]

I'm really sorry to hear about May. Please talk to someone though don't bottle up these feelings again. And life definitely isn't wasted on you you bring so much happiness and love into the world it would be so much worse without your light in it

I haven’t spoken to anyone online in days, I feel so empty, I have almost nothing to say to anyone, funnily enough though this is the first time I haven’t felt lonely, it’s kinda odd?

social media is triggering me hard at the moment, I’m getting tired of reading posts and statuses of people expressing a desire for an eating disorder so that they can lose weight, I had acute anorexia from my early teens and received a formal diagnosis of anorexia nervosa a couple of years ago, every day I am battling my head/body and there are people actively WISHING that they had the illness, it’s knocking me sick.

everyone seems to be depressed and suicidal at the moment, and I’ve since realised that I don’t have the mental or emotional capacity to take on anyone else’s problems when I’m trying SO HARD not to end my life on the daily.

these next coming weeks I’m going to be a full time carer for my partner as a result of a surgical procedure he’s having done, and I’m looking forward to feeling ‘needed’ as that’s a driving factor for my survival, if I’m not needed then I don’t see the point of being.

my independence is so limited due to my financial and mental health struggles, and also the fact I feel extreme guilt at doing nice things for myself so I won’t do a lot of things without ‘permission’.

I don’t see a light at the end of the tunnel despite the medication, therapy sessions, and support I receive. I believe I’m always going to be tormented by my traumas even though I’ve been trying to manage them on and off for 17 years.

the hard work I’ve put in to reach recovery has proved ineffective, and the thought of having to live with these conditions for the rest of my life is exhausting and terrifying.

I feel like all I’m doing is making the people around me miserable because the joy has been sucked out of me, and I don’t want to be that guy in any way, shape or form.

I feel like I’ve let everyone down, people have these expectations of me that I can’t always meet and as a result I get grief, I’m sorry but I can’t live my life catering to people who don’t even know what’s going on in my life.

I’ve had an absolutely garbage year and it’s felt like I’ve been dragging boulders, the heaviness is so physical that it hurts.

not to state the obvious, but I am alive, I’m existing just about.

I don’t feel like I bring much light, and it devastates me because all I ever wanted was to be happy and spread love and acceptance, but I’m not happy and it just doesn’t look like it’s in the cards for me. yes, there are things that make me feel happy, but overall I’m not happy in the slightest regardless of my efforts to change it.

I just feel like I’m surrounded by constant reminders of the fact that my life has been different to the people around me, and I get envious and bitter as a result.

I’m holding on, but something has got to give at some point, it just has to.

[stxrfclls]

cedrian  would  not  compare  his  wife  to  many,  if  any,  but  he  found  it  interesting  that  when  speaking  to  alina  he  felt  a  fire  similar  to  the  early  moments  of  their  courtship.  only,  the  feelings  the  lady  of  summer  evoked  in  him  were  not  exact  copies  of  those  he’d  once  shared  with  his  wife.  this  kindling  was  burning  far  different,  a  new  shade  of  a  flame  that  he  had  no  name  for  just  yet.  perhaps  that  is  why  cedrian  could  not  find  himself  leaving  the  other  alone  so  easily  despite  knowing  better.  high  rulers  did  not  spend  much  time  with  one  another,  outside  of  required  moments  such  as  this,  but  even  then  he  should  be  speaking  to  anyone  other  than  the  high  lady  he’d  already  spoken  to  before.  they  had  no  alliances  to  discuss,  no  betrothals  to  plan,  no  business  to  tie  the  pair  together.  and  yet  the  magnetic  pull  the  lady  had  on  cedrian  was  not  so  easily  ignored,  and  for  once,  the  high  lord  was  rather  selfish  with  his  time.  he  cared  little  for  who  might  whisper  of  their  speaking  so  publicly,  would  brush  it  off  as  being  a  proper  high  lord  even  if  he’d  not  spoken  to  any  other  rulers  outside  of  spring  and  dawn.  the  question  of  just  what  he  was  doing  still  had  yet  to  be  answered,  by  either  cedrian  or  to  alina,  and  perhaps  he  was  too  afraid  of  the  answer  to  truly  find  it  just  yet.  

and  in  all  honesty,  the  pair  were  about  to  bid  farewell,  so  why  should  he  not  soak  in  as  much  of  this  as  he  could  ?  alina  did  not  give  away  much,  but  she  had  yet  to  shun  his  attentions.  she  was  unlike  a  woman  he’d  flirted  with  before,  did  not  sway  or  blush  at  his  honeyed  words,  and  that  only  made  the  high  lord  desire  more  of  her  time.  just  how  much  would  the  dark  haired  beauty  before  him  offer  before  finding  a  reason  to  leave  their  little  moment  ?  “  none  of  us  are  as  we  seem,  though  i  do  enjoy  an  act  of  boldness  from  time  to  time.  ”  admits  he.  his  pride  shines  when  she  accepts  the  compliment,  drops  the  believe  that  he’d  said  it  to  just  anyone.  it  encourages  ced  far  too  much,  perhaps  to  a  dangerous  level.  he  still  wasn’t  sure  what  he  wanted  out  of  this  arrangement,  this  odd  attraction  that  he  refused  to  believe  she  was  immune  to.  delicate,  cedrian  chided  himself,  for  neither  could  quite  afford  to  truly  lean  into  what  he  sensed  building.  they  each  owed  their  loyalty  to  their  courts,  nothing  else,  even  if  pleasures  of  the  skin  shouldn’t  matter.  they  both  knew  otherwise.

perhaps  the  high  lord  might  take  the  lady  up  upon  her  offer  of  visiting  adriata,  of  tasting  their  wine  she  swore  was  better  than  his  own.  such  thoughts  were  only  encouraged  when  she  didn’t  react  as  he  drew  near,  for  the  high  lord  knew  to  read  between  the  lines  and  that  the  high  lady  certainly  would  have  pushed  him  off  had  she  not  wished  him  in  her  space.  it  was  a  game  of  politics,  and  alina  had  yet  to  show  a  clear  disinterest  in  cedrian.  in  fact,  the  lady  of  summer  had  shown  the  opposite  in  both  her  actions  and  inactions  towards  the  lord  of  day.  “  i  blame  the  wine,  quite  difficult  to  behave  when  one  has  been  sampling  the  poor  tastes  of  the  capital  all  night.  ”  his  eyes  shine,  clearly  showing  he  has  not  been  impaired  in  the  slightest.  “  ah,  and  here  i  thought  that  the  high  lady  of  summer  might  find  it  pleasing  to  not  have  one  talk  too  boldly  of  his  intentions  with  her.  lest  we  encourage  those  rumors,  yes  ?  ”  cedrian  offers  a  wink,  a  crafty  way  of  saying  he  wasn’t  sure  what  he  wanted  either.  of  course,  there  was  the  obvious,  but  he  doubted  that  was  all  alina  wished  to  hear.  a  slow  smirk  spreads  across  his  lips  at  the  use  of  his  first  name,  did  anything  ever  sound  so  decadent  ?  cedrian  couldn’t  be  so  certain,  and  he  knew  in  that  moment  that  he  had  long  passed  the  danger  zone  in  all  of  this  little  dance  they’d    begun.  the  high  lord  was  well  captured  by  the  high  lady,  the  question  now  was  if  she  knew  it  or  not.  “  i  aim  to  be.  ”  he  replies.  that  smirk  grows  into  a  full  grin  at  her  next  words,  and  cedrian  feels  once  again  that  they  both  have  entered  into  this  dark  dance  knowingly.  “  i  promise  not  to  push  those  boundaries  too  much,  alina.  ”  was  he  being  honest  ?  ced  had  a  habit  of  pushing  people  too  far  sometimes.  a  foolish  belief  that  he  knew  what  another  needed  if  they’d  only  let  go.

would  he  hear  about  this  later  ?  his  inner  court  lecturing  him  over  who  he  chooses  to  flirt  with  so  openly  ?  cedrian  may  have  a  reputation,  but  as  a  widower  he  had  been  rather  subdued.  he  could  hear  it  now,  the  high  lady  of  summer  was  hardly  a  good  choice  to  be  seen  with  right  now.  cedrian  would  have  to  prepare  his  arguments,  or  to  tell  them  all  to  stay  out  of  it.  how  interesting  that  would  be.  at  the  end  of  it,  they  would  all  be  home  in  a  matter  of  days,  and  he  was  certain  that  the  lady  of  summer  would  not  be  seen  by  his  eyes  anytime  soon  after,  even  if  he  wished  otherwise.  for  a  few  moments  the  pair  of  high  rulers  could  entertain  whatever  this  was,  pass  this  grueling  ball  by,  and  return  home  all  while  wondering  what  they’d  shared  and  ignored.  “  you’ve  been  rather  accommodating  of  me  for  someone  who  does  not  have  a  favorable  reputation  to  strangers.  ”  he  notes,  not  a  tease,  but  there  is  a  playful  glint  in  his  eye.  he  sips  his  wine,  humming  a  bit  before  offering  a  response.  “  i  think  we  all  focus  too  much  on  playing  our  parts  at  times,  forget  to  notice  the  other  things  going  on.  ”  he  finally  states,  eying  alina  as  she  nearly  finishes  her  wine.  he’d  not  known  the  high  lady  to  be  a  lush,  was  it  the  influence  of  his  presence  ?  cedrian  liked  to  think  so.  his  eyes  sparkle  at  the  compliment,  toothy  grin  telling  the  lady  she  was  quite  right.  “  i  quite  enjoy  a  partner  who  doesn’t  step  on  my  toes.  ”  he  notes,  a  tease  this  time  as  he  follows  the  lady  out  to  the  balcony,  a  breath  of  air  even  if  he  hated  seeing  the  stars.  “  i  prefer  a  partner  who  matches  my  energy,  not  one  that  is  submissive.  ”  admits  he.  “  and  what  type  would  the  high  lady  of  summer  accept  as  a  partner  ?  ”  and  why  did  he  want  to  know  so  badly  ?

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑  𝐓𝐎  𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄,  𝐒𝐇𝐄  was  certain  the  man  had  charmed  many  at  his  court,  there  was  no  way  she  could  be  convinced  otherwise.  it  had  less  to  do  with  his  position  as  high  lord,  and  more  with  the  natural  charisma  that  came  to  him  so  easily.  a  man  that  possessed  such  charm  was  perhaps  the  utmost  dangerous,  especially  when  it  was  working  in  tandem  with  an  equally  sharp  mind.  while  she  remained  unimpressed  by  most,  she'd  never  underestimated  the  charms  of  the  opposite  gender,  only  selective  to  which  ones  were  worth  entertaining,  to  the  ones  could  hold  her  attention  for  long,  and  the  high  lord  of  day  had  succeeded  since  their  first  encounter.  all  of  the  high  rulers  shared  a  strange  relationship,  one  of  a  mutual  understanding  that  they  need  not  linger  near  one  another  unless  a  conflict  made  itself  known.  though  she  had  crossed  paths  with  few,  she  had  never  though  to  get  to  know  them.  there  had  never  been  any  need  to,  and  in  just  days,  her  thoughts  drift  to  one,  the  bizarre  curiosity  and  interest  cedrian  induced  within  her  leaving  her  puzzled.  it  was  not  wise,  not  in  the  slightest,  not  when  much  rested  on  her  shoulders,  when  circumstances  could  have  them  turn  on  each  other  easily.  despite  them  all  co-existing,  not  one  of  them  could  forget  who  they  were  and  what  they  were  capable  of  when  placed  in  a  unforeseen  position.  there  was  a  reason  high  rulers  never  dallied  with  one  another,  it  was  simply  not  heard  of,  for  good  reasons.

  alina  was  many  things,  but  impulsive  she  was  not,  she  had  been  careful  who  she  dallied  with.  yet  as  she  stood  so  close  to  this  man,  who  gazed  at  her  with  barely  veiled  interest,  and  it  was  something  she  was  unaccustomed  to,  not  the  attention  itself,  but  the  manner  in  which  cedrian  offered  his.  it  was  the  way  he  studied  her,  as  if  he  were  trying  peer  right  into  her  soul,  now  that  was  a  foreign  feeling,  one  she  could  not  settle  on.  perhaps  his  flirting  was  harmless,  not  brought  on  by  ill  intentions,  but  anyone  in  her  place  would  question  the  sudden  interest  even  if,  in  the  case  of  him,  she  returned  it,  much  to  her  annoyance.  the  question  still  remained,  what  did  he  seek  from  her?  a  dalliance  or  some  sort  of  a  friendship?  either  was  not  something  she  could  entertain,  but  her  legs  refused  to  move,  as  if  they  had  a  mind  of  their  own.  her  mind  said  one  thing  but  the  rest  of  her,  something  else,  wished  for  something  else.  "quite  bold  of  you  to  admit  such  a  thing.  although,  why  do  i  sense  you  enjoy  that?"  alina  chalked  it  up  the  powerful  presence  he  possessed.  the  words  would  have  sounded  false  from  another,  but  from  the  lord  they  felt  every  bit  as  sincere.  "you  need  not  explain  your  generosity  to  me.  though  it  is...most  welcome."  she  knew  he'd  sense  she  was  not  opposed  to  them.

  it  takes  much  of  alina  not  to  react  so  openly  to  his  charms  and  flirtations,  and  the  responses  he  drew  from  her.  he  had  a  smoldering  sensuality  about  him  that,  she'd  wager,  garnered  similar  responses  from  women.  except  that  alina  was  no  in  position  to  behave  so  impulsively,  to  give  into  all  of  her  whims,  not  only  of  the  prying  eyes  but  of  her  own  rules.  it  didn't  prepare  her  when  he  leaned  close  to  her,  while  never  touching  her,  lips  hovering  right  by  her  ear,  it  was  sheer  willpower  she  did  not  move  an  inch.  heavens,  he  was  even  more  striking  up  close.  when  he  moved  as  quickly  as  he  invaded  her  space,  alina  could  not  help  but  respond.  she  did  not  know  what  possessed  her  in  these  moments,  but  it  seeming  as  if  this  was  becoming  a  reoccurring  pattern  when  it  came  to  the  day  lord.  her  hand  remained  on  the  lapel  of  his  coat,  even  through  the  coat  she  felt  the  warmth  of  his  skin,  and  hard  panes  of  his  chest.  a  slow  smile  curved  her  lips  as  she  met  his  gaze,  "perhaps,  but  your  actions  are  hardly  careful,  my  lord.  staring  at  a  high  lady  across  the  room  for  a  period  of  time  is  not  wise.  how  many  might  have  seen  that?  then  whispering  into  her  ear?"  she  inquired  rather  curiously,  her  copper  hues  as  probing  as  his  own  gaze  was.  "the  question  is,  what  do  you  worry  most  of,  the  prying  ears  or  displeasing  the  high  lady  of  summer of not sharing your true thoughts ?"  with  how  they  were  standing,  and  her  hand  remaining  against  his  breast-pocket,  alina  knew  was  questionable  at  best,  but  it  was  like  an  unknown  force  keeping  her  in  place.  his  words  drew  a  low,  husky  chuckle  from  her,  a  real  one,  "ah,  you  are  something  else  entirely,  cedrian."  his  name  falling  from  her  lips  as  easily  to  answer  his  inquiry,  "indulge  you?  indulging  others  is  hardly  in  my  nature,  darling,  but  you  are  one  of  the  few  who  can  get  away  with  asking  such  a  thing  from  me.  you  may  address  me  as  alina."  it  was  selfishly  that  she  quite  enjoy  the  sound  from  his  tongue  as  she  did  of  his  own  on  hers. 

  she  was  playing  with  fire,  her  sensible  side  making  itself  known  to  remind  her  why  this  was  a  terrible  idea.  to  allow  herself  to  be  interested  in  this  high  ruler,  even  if  she  was  certain  it  was  harmless  and  whatever  this  was  would  give  away  with  time.  how  long  did  she  have  here  anyhow?  after  the  coronation,  they  would  all  be  returning  to  their  home.  perhaps  it  was  that  though  that  allowed  her  to  indulge  herself,  this  was  temporary,  and  she  were  to  suffer  through  this  tedious  ball,  she  might  as  well  allow  this  fascinating  man  to  entertain  her.  even  if  she  had  wished  to  do  more  than  talk  with  cedrian,  for  now,  it  was  proving  to  be  an  pleasant  evening. his frank words had her study him for a few moments longer, "by  all  means."  she  hummed,  she  watched  as  he  inspected  a  wine  before  putting  it  away  and  taking  the  one  she  offered,  "this  one  is  decent."  she  remarked  before  the  two,  "we  all  must  play  our  part,  i  suppose.  i'm  not  certain  who  can  gauge  such  a  thing,  but  u've  not  doubt  the  mother  queen  is  aware  how  most  of  us  rulers  feel  about  all  this."  she  took  a  generous  drink  of  the  liquid  in  her  glass,  nearly  emptying  its  contents  before  her  attention  reverts  to  her  companion,  "i  have  no  doubt  of  your  many  talents,  in  and  out  of  the  dance  floor."  hazel  orbs  glinting,  "and  what  do  you  consider  the  right  partner?"  her  question  held  more  curiosity  than  anything,  she  did  not  know  of  his  marriage,  was  it  a  love  match,  or  an  arranged  one?  uncertain  as  to  why  she  wished  to  know  this  personal  part  of  him.  alina  led  them  to  the  balcony,  they  both  could  do  with  some  fresh  air  and  a  moment  of  peace,  "you  would  not  be  wrong,  but  I  am  quite...selective  with  my  partners."  amongst  other  reasons.

[dreamgrlarchive]

Dear dream girl, I really want to be my dream girl but I don’t know where to start. I feel unmotivated most of the time and I only get a burst of motivation at like 3 am. I just what to glow and radiate good energy for myself and find/do what I like

Oh, So You Wanna Be a Dream Girl? 🎀

starting your dream girl journey

Congrats on choosing yourself and your tiara; I am so proud. Prepare to not be liked, to be judged, and to stand out. It’s lonely at the top.

*this guide is for starting the process, not reaching the end result because my version of my own dream girl is inevitably different than yours. bare in mind i’m not holding your hand. i’m nudging you in a good direction.

what is a dream girl?

a dream girl is a girl that has finally fallen in love with who she sees in the mirror. she’s the girl that she can depend on. she has her desired look and she’s on the path to self actualization actively. she’s aware of her branding. she holds herself to the standards she holds other to; and they are HIGH. her self worth isn’t contingent upon a love interest, amount of money, or social status. she’s simply that girl.

do some healing.

yes, i said it. healing. like i’ve said before, you cannot put glitter on literal garbage. that’s not even the slightest bit appealing. you’re gonna journal about your childhood, your biggest influences in life, your biggest fears and how you feel life has treated you. this calls for shadow work. shadow working really helped me figure out some of my toxic traits and how some of the things that were considered normal to me as a child have affected me in the long run. you’re also gonna write hypothetical letters to your loved (and not-so-loved) ones, including yourself. let it all out. say everything you want that person to know. around you or not, dead or alive. prepare to clam up, cry, get angry, feel anxious. good. you should. you feel clammy, hot and sometimes pain when your body is fighting off and healing from a physical sickness. now you’re dealing with the developmental, mental, and emotional parts. you’re doing yourself a disservice choosing to stay the same toxic, nasty, mean, or victimized person you’ve always been.

what do you want?

before you can start to even do the smallest improvements, you have to have a clear goal. or else you’ll just be running around in circles (heh) over grandiose blurry wishful thinking. ultimately resulting in you giving up and choosing to be basic bc it’s easier. what do you want out of life? how do you want to be treated? what do you want to do? what makes you happy? and most importantly, how do you want to feel? see, it’s more than just the frills and glitter. you have to know what you’re trying to get to, internally and externally.

grab a diary, adorn it with pretty little details and commit to it. pair it with your fav writing utensil. outline all of your goals. every single last one of them. you can categorize them, scale them from short to long term, easy to hard. it doesn’t matter. do absolutely what you want to do to make a concrete record of your goals that’s digestible for you.

what are you going to do?

*fabulosity by kimora lee simmons*

compare your dream reality to the one you’re currently experiencing. what is she doing that you aren’t? that’s it. do that. anyone can read blogs about the process and other people success stories but those posts aren’t gonna change your life unless you get up and go for what you want. i don’t know what exactly you desire out of life. you do. so you have the instructions for this journey. the first part was easy, this is simple but not nearly as effortless. it’s up to you and not anyone else. you teach others how to treat you. improvements you can make include better: hygiene, self talk/treatment, outward energy, work ethic, discipline, health, consumed content, relationships, looks, habits.

the work

it’s time to apply yourself. get up everyday and actively work towards your goal. be kind to yourself. take yourself to the doctors. get active. eat right. find your passion. DO THE HEALING.

everyone’s journey is SO different so i’m just going to do a quick rundown of the importance of each of the ten facets of your dream girl journey (that build upon each other. ie; looks do not benefit you when your hygiene is insufficient):

*these facets are loosely based on maslow’s hierarchy of needs

health - are you taking care of yourself? please treat yourself how you would your loved ones. you’ll be surprised how physical issues manifest mentally, and vice versa. get adequate sleep. take baby steps if need be. some of these adjustments may be huge to you. be gracious with your journey.

consumed content - everything you engage in is your diet. the company you keep, food you eat, music you enjoy. you get the idea. do you feel light and ready to take on the day? or do you feel drained and sick more often than not. make some adjustments wherever you see necessary.

hygiene - extremely important. stick to a routine for your hygienic needs. you should have rituals you engage in everyday. don’t forget that your health and hygiene go hand in hand. oral and feminine hygiene is so crazily important. please don’t neglect yourself. i talk about my routines in detail here.

habits - daily habits are so crucial to your lifestyle. adjust these and consciously break your bad habits by supplementing your life with equal and opposite habits.

self talk/treatment - simple. be kind to yourself. hold yourself accountable for flaws and mistakes while loving yourself enough to be patient with the journey of improving.

outward energy - be very aware of the vibes you’re permeating. again this is so a huge determination of how you will be treated and how you will live your life.

work ethic/discipline - it’s gonna take serious accountability to escape the desire to stay comfortable. you have to tell yourself that you deserve *your desired end result* so you will *make specific change/adjustment.* it’s that simple (again simple doesn’t mean easy).

relationships - if you don’t like the way you’re treated by those in your life, those relationships need to be reevaluated. you can make some trims on your circle, have some honest conversations, or adjust your behaviors (because sometimes, YOU are the problem).

passion and career - in order to feel fulfilled in life, we all need a purpose. discover yours. incorporate your passion into your daily life.

looks - develop your signature and hone in on it. looks are very important to your perception (self and public). check out this guide to help with this part. however you wanna feel is how you should display yourself.

be a dream girl!

you’ve discovered all the facets of creating your dream self and reality. now it’s time to apply what you’ve learned. start showing up in life in the fashion you want to be seen in.

that’s it! the rest is up to you!

- xoxo, dreamgrlarchive 🎀

[stateswscarlet]

but what if I genuinely don't want to do ANYTHING to get my desire, I just want to wake up and BAM it's there. Do you think that's possible? and please don't say "it depends on you and what you believe in your reality." I want to know what YOU think.

Why are you asking me? Do my beliefs and my state manifest in YOUR reality? Didn’t think so. You don’t need my validation at all, im some random chick on the internet who loves studying and teaching the law.

So yes anon it depends on you and what you believe in your reality, lmao.

But I assume you’re wanting MY personal opinion in MY reality correct? So I also assume you’re not going to cry and throw up and spiral to everyone else that “Omg scarlet said this!!” because you asked for MY OPINION.

(and this goes to everyone else reading this - I better not catch anyone spiraling in someone elses ask box about “scarlet said this, is it true?? is it real?? what do i do?” because I know DAMN WELL yall LOVE taking stuff out of context and blurt it to other creators without giving them the full story. So if you’re going to go throw up your spiral in someone else box, let them read my ENTIRE answer before you make me look bad.)

So since anon asked for MY PERSONAL OPINION IN MY REALITY I will share MY OWN PERSONAL BELIEFS THAT HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYONE ELSES REALITY BUT MY OWN.

I don’t believe in MY REALITY that its possible to magically wake up in another life. I don’t believe in “magical” manifestations. I don’t believe in anything that isn’t already natural or COULD NOT BE experienced (even as a teeeeeeeeeeeny chance) by someone living on planet earth and all its laws. I don’t believe in manipulating physics, growing wings, changing your age and physically becoming a 10 year old from a 45 yeat old, changing your race (thats weird as fuck so idk why you’d do that anyways), transforming into a magic fairy, turning into a sorcerer who can teleport and mind read, or waking up tomorrow as taylor swift.

The way I learned and understood and firsthand experienced the law is:

1. The law is natural. It has ALWAYS been at play. It is ALWAYS working FOR EVERYONE. Even unconsciously we are all manifesting based off the law and our state. It works THE SAME WAY for everyone regardless of who you are.

2. Our consciousness, YES it is LIMITLESS has chosen FOR THIS LIFETIME a HUMAN experience that is bound to the 3D. Our consciousness has chosen an earth experience as its home, as its experience for our life that we are aware of. It CHOSE this (limited) 3D world as its experience and WANTS to experience what a human is capable of experiencing. The law exists amongst other laws like physics. Yes we are god, but we are GOD EXPERIENCING ITSELF THROUGH A HUMAN. WE CAN GOD IN HUMAN FORM. Not literally an all knowing powerful entity who can turn off gravity and create an ice castle in a blink of an eye.

So if you’ve lived your whole life never hearing of anyone that has magically woken up in a mansion in LA when they were just asleep in their studio apartment in Antartica, it would be pretty difficult to believe that to be true today. Now if you HAVE heard of that or firsthand experienced it, know someone who has, now thats a different story because again, IF YOU BELIEVE ITS POSSIBLE IN YOUR REALITY THEN THAT IS WHAT YOU WILL EXPERIENCE.

I personally have never heard of anything magical happening nor have I ever seen it with my own eyes so in MY REALITY its not possible in the slightest. I don’t see myself manifesting waking up in a completely different life with a new name, age, set of parents because first of all, I would freak THE FUCK out, that sounds SO scary and disorienting?! Maybe i’ll believe it when I see someone in real life flapping their wings, teleporting, and waking up in a brand new place with a new name/age. And I don’t mean people on here with success stories online, I mean people physically and/or people who don’t know the words “law of assumption” experiencing it (as I said up in number 1, the law is the same for everyone).

When I see “manifesting is illogical” I take it as we cannot conceptualize HOW something would happen. That is what ILLOGICAL means. It doesn’t mean that when you blink, a fat stack of a billon dollars is going to appear in front of you. It means YOU CANNOT PREDICT OR KNOW HOW IT WILL HAPPEN AND NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU TRY, IT WILL STILL HAPPEN IN A WAY YOU DIDNT EVEN THINK OF. Same thing applies for the “there are infinite realities, theres one where im living that!” YES you are correct! There is a reality where you have a huge mansion next to Kylie Jenner, and so there would be NATURAL STEPS TAKEN to make that a reality that would be the BEST way for YOU.

I believe in a natural bridge of incidents (it would have happened anyways or it makes sense how it happened after it did kind of thing) that is perfectly and best suited TO ME. Trying to “wake up” in a new life is messing with the how, because if you knew by the end of next week GUARANTEED you’d be living your dream life, would you give half a fuck about what steps needed to be taken for that? NO because you would just NATURALLY take them WITHOUT EVEN THINKING as part of the bridge! So yes, becoming a millionaire quickly is 100% possible, dating a celebrity is also 100% possible, moving into a huge mansion when you’re currently homeless is also possible, healing an illness is also possible, and so is manifesting an sp you don’t know/do know, and manifesting a career you’re not qualified for/rejected for because all of these things and everything else in between are things which humans can already experience (even as a very slim, nearly impossible chance) with or without knowing the law. I firmly believe the law isn’t magic.

I already know someone is gona be like “what about so and so success story? what about xyz stories? are they fake??”

When I say that I GENUINELY DO NOT GIVE A SINGLE THOUGHT thinking if someone’s success is true or not, I 10000% mean it. Who am I to tell someone else they’re lying or ask for proof? In THEIR reality they experience different beliefs than me and thats 100% okay. I dont care what someone is or isn’t doing in their reality. I don’t care if they’re lying or scripting because how does that affect me? I still believe in the law and love my natural and “limited” perspective and still get things reflected in the 3D in a natural and effortless way. I don’t need nor want proof of it because no one owes anyone any successes or proof that they manifested something and this goes for me too. I will say however that no one should be relying on other peoples successes on the internet and instead use the law yourself to be your own success story. We (myself included) are at the end of the day, random strangers on the internet who you don’t know. Why would you place your life in our hands? Study the law yourself from source and be comfortable with your own beliefs instead of asking me or anyone else “is this possible” instead ask YOURSELF if ifs possible for you.

Not to mention i’ve literally known people from other communities (reddit and subliminals community) who posted “impossible” successes yet were in my DMs saying how “gullible” others are and how none of that happened. It makes me sad knowing people would post anything fake, but I know that others lying has nothing to do with me and everything to do with them. This is why I said that YOU NEED TO BE YOUR SUCCESS instead of relying on others because we aren’t special or unique, we are all regular people too.

Also I will NOT BE ANSWERING ANY ASKS RELATED TO CALLING ME LIMITED, BEING RUDE, TELLING ME OFF, ETC it will be INSTANTLY DELETED. This is MY PAGE WHERE I SHARE MY BELIEFS. DO NOT go around to 10 other creators venting that “omg scarlet said i cant magically wake up a kpop idol!” because if you’re spiraling over ONE random persons beliefs, im sorry you need to do better and go apply the law. If you are going to be throwing up elsewhere, make sure you link the entire post.

Call me limited all you want, im not stopping YOU from getting what YOU believe to be true.

[fineanddandy]

Little Monsters’ Birthday Surprise

Summary: Due to a hellish month of adjusting to a new job, new schedule, new life, you damn near forget your birthday…but that’s okay because your boys are taking care of it.

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x black!reader x Destroyer!Chris

Warnings: graphic language, graphic language, threesome, sharing bodily fluids, alcohol use, drug use, oral sex (fem receiving), smut, MFM/throuple relationship, double penetration, public sex (kinda), smut driven foolery

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU DARLING ASH!! 🎉🥳 My sis wife @sunshinexsin is turning a year older so I had to write a little something…sinful…just for her. Hope it obliterates her. Hell I hope it obliterates anyone who reads this foolishness. Good times to be had all around. Ash, I hope this day treats you the way you deserve and you get all sorts of love and kind words and whatever else you desire. I feel this is how these two would take care of you on your special day. Love you sis wife 😘😘

Sometimes, you don’t know how people do it. This regular 8-5, repetitive, monotonous ass bullshit. It’s only been a month of this new routine and your body’s tired like you’d been doing it for years and years. Ready to fuckin go into retirement…or at least sleep for a week. Worn, that’s all you felt. Coming home from work and immediately undressing and hitting the bed. Your boys blowing you up to come see you but you were even too tired for them. And that’s a fuckin problem. You missed the shit out them, really needing them to come hold you and baby you but time had been against y’all for too long now. All you could do was pout, and yawn, and whine when you realize your birthday’s tomorrow and you have absolutely nothing planned. What the actual fuck. How did you let that happen?! Slapping yourself in the face you groan into the mattress, shaking your head into the bedding. Yay for getting older. It’s whatever, you gripe to yourself as you pull back the covers, putting your phone on Do Not Disturb. That’ll be future you’s problem. As of right now, all you needed was sleep.

You softly grin, resting well in your REM, dreaming about your boys holding you close, decorating your face with sweet kisses. Your sweet little monsters, doting on you with sly smirks and quiet moans. Their giant hands roaming all of your body, massaging your hips and ass, making you feel so fuckin good. God you can’t get enough of Bucky and Chris, driving you wild with their smoky eyes and mischievous grins. Always completely smothered by their combined sizes. Just…weight. And heat. Humming happily you sink lower into the bed, suddenly feeling warm between your thighs. Damn just thinking about them has got you so wet. A quick tingle down your shoulders has you giggling, sliding your feet over the bed as two firm hands cup over your goosebumped skin, digging his fingers into your inner thighs. Gasping in delight you fling your lids open, jumping up to your hands to find a naked man bunned Bucky holding a small slice of red velvet cake with a lit candle on a saucer with a charmed grin. You can’t help but smile so wide at your brooding tower of a man but then you passionately moan out, looking down to discover a squirming body beneath the covers. Chris yanks your slobbering slit closer to his opened mouth, dunking a pointed tongue into your hole. Moaning through your giggles, you fist the covers with a sick smile, arching your spine into Chris going to work on your pussy.

“Happy birthday Princess.” Bucky purrs, nibbling on the curve of his bottom lip, pushing the plate towards you dying for air. “Make a wish.”

Darting your slacked gaze down his ripped body, you peep his perfect cock standing at attention, then back to his burning gaze, whimpering behind thinned lips; Chris isn’t letting up in the slightest, sloppily making out with your throbbing folds with hungry grunts. You could hardly focus on the reality of the situation with the way he noisily slurps you up. With breathless chuckles, you gradually drop your lids and take a moment to relish in the reality of the best wish already coming true. In one shaky breath, eyes still shut, you blow out the candle and Bucky smiles sweetly, dipping the smooth tip of his metal finger in the pillowy frosting.

“Good morning birthday girl.” You wrap your trembling lips around his cool fingertip and suck the dissolving sugar clean off, inhaling a sharp gasp as Chris flicks the tip of his tongue all over your fat clit. The sheets wrinkle more. Bucky drags his fingers out of your puffy lips, pursing back pleased chuckles. “Surprised?”

“Yeah daddy.” You sigh euphorically, dropping your head back with a smile. “So surprised. Happy.”

Sitting on the bed, Bucky wraps his arm around your neck, gently cupping your cheek as you weakly call out Chris’s name. Thumbing the small hot hill of your awed face, Bucky lands a full kiss on the bridge of your nose, saying,

“As you should be Princess.” He kisses you there again then a shudder quakes all over your body. “We didn’t want you to be alone on your day.”

“Aww fuck!” You choke on another sharp gasp, signs of your orgasm approaching as two thick fingers slip in under a nimble tongue still wiggling around your contracting wall. Bucky huffs a hard sigh, cupping your left tit in his soothing cool hand. The sensation taking what little breath you have left away as he twists your nipple around, tugging on it just to hear you moan harder. A rumbling growl comes from under the covers; Chris loves when you start to squirt little by little down his tastebuds. He picks up the strokes of his fingers and it’s fuckin over for you.

“So we’re going to take care of everything. Just for you. Don’t worry about a thing. Your little monsters are here princess.”

Bucky takes your full lips in one gulp, securely locking his tongue around yours and Chris latches on to your clit, sucking and vigorously finger fucking your pussy until your squealing, limbs trembling as you let all your frustrations go into Chris’s rumbling throat. You can hardly breathe beneath Bucky sinisterly chuckling, beneath your nerve wrecking orgasm that you so clearly needed. Once he’s licked you all clean with a proud smile, Chris reveals himself like a magic trick, goatee soaked with your juices, announcing,

“Happy birthday beautiful,” slithering up your front to share your cum with you. Frenching you so hard as he makes the exchange then breaks away with a low hum so you can turn to kiss Bucky, who swallows you with a bitten lip. “Missed you Princess” Chris whispers leading a trail of pecks up the middle of your chest.

Tugging him away by his prickly chin, brushing your thumb over his saturated whiskers you sigh, “Missed you too,” allowing him to resume his journey as you sweetly take Bucky again. Fuck this was the best start to a birthday ever and it was barely kicking off. Adjusting himself to turn on to his front, Bucky drops a knee between your legs just as Chris begins to shuffle out, swapping places with him still tasting your lips that are stained with your scent. Chris hooks a finger in Bucky’s hair tie to release his thick locks down over his shoulder, who leaves you lightheaded and just as turned on as before with Chris between your thighs but now,

“My turn…” Bucky winks, hair curtaining his devilishly handsome face, “but I wanna feel you dripping down my cock…”

A careful hand rolls over the sticky head of his dick before it soothes over and under his veiny shaft. You and Chris watching on, hypnotized by the shiny vibranium stroking his hot taut skin. After a minute of teasing himself, he sticks his sticky mechanical hand in front Chris’s mouth that eagerly sticks out his tongue covered in spit, smearing it all over while simultaneously getting a taste of his precum, before Bucky slots it completely saturated back between your bodies. His eyes flutter close with a tiny groan, Chris’s self made lubricant just enough to get him ready to pierce his way inside your tuckered out cunt.

“Lay back Princess,” demands Chris lowly, pressing a firm hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down to the comfort of your bed, “you know how Bucky gets…”

Boy don’t you…and you can’t fuckin wait, nestling into the sheets, past ready for Bucky to tear into you. His fat head circling your opening just before he slips on in without effort. Your lower back pops off the bed the further he sinks. Chris loves to watch you two, loves the way Bucky damn near breaks you in two and you just take his animalistic behavior with such a pretty smile. It’s the sexiest shit he’s ever seen. Dick already fisted he gets after it, lounging back to get a better view.

“Mmm and it’s been so long too…” Bracing the side of your neck, he struggles to speak as he fills you up. Nostrils flaring and teeth clenched, inching all the way in until his dick is completely swallowed whole with a deep sigh. Casting his hooded gaze down on you with a twisted grin he shakes his head and warns, “I’m going to rip you apart…you need that?”

His hips roll slow but finish with a hard snap. “Yes daddy!” You yelp, holding on to his ripped muscles for dear life. You desperately needed that shit. It’s been a month of hell you need to feel anything else other than the blahness of adulthood. Thank god for your little monsters surrounding you with love and admiration. Oh yeah…and their nude statuesque bodies sweating and writhing with tortured groans and erotic sighs. Your black nails scratch Bucky’s scalp as he digs you out with dark growls, decorating your cheeks, lips, neck with wet kisses. Holding you so close to his rolling hips. Just to your right Chris is fuckin his hand twisting and squeezing around his jerking girth. Head hanging back and grunting out with each stroke. Faintly smiling and laughing to yourself, you can’t believe what’s happening when just last night, you were alone, feeling so damn low but now you’re high in the clouds, feeling so damn good. So good in fact you start to sing the birthday song in your head, giggling even more but accelerating moans intervene. Bucky’s fucking into you harder, working them super soldier hips rolling up into your convulsing folds. Gripping the headboard as an anchor, he roughly ruts into your bruising thighs with a wild smile like he’s trying to split you down the middle. A rowdy groan rips through Chris’s pouty lips. Swiftly he’s up on his knees, angling his cock towards you and Bucky edging closer and closer to eruption. Shouting and shrilling curse words amongst the three of you, headboard knocking against the wall, you struggle for air as your climax takes over every nerve. Limbs locked and cumming so hard. Clawing the fuck out of Bucky’s brawny back but he loves the burn. Chris is about to lose his shit listening to you cum like that.

“Oh-oh fuck. I’m—I’m about to—,” he stutters to warn Bucky who’s already up on his knees, spreading you wider to reach even deeper between your sputtering walls. You can’t handle all of that right now. It’s been too long. You’re too sensitive but your monsters don’t give a shit.

“Jeeeeeeus Christ! Bucky holy fuckin shit!” You scream, tapping out but it means nothing. Bucky locks his hands around your kneecaps with a shake of his hair and goes even harder. As if that’s possible. You’re losing your fuckin mind. Your pussy a creamy mess he just smiles down at the way it slides down his fat cock still pumping it out.

Chris is shaking; slamming his fingers into your open mouth, he spits down onto the head of his swollen cock and works it over his burning skin. And it’s just enough to shoot his load all over your heaving breast. Taking all the life from him, doubling over with a silent oh.

“Fuck. Holy shit.” Softly whispers a winded Bucky, hips hitching and stalling out, ready to explode seeing you coated with Chris’s hot cum. He lies down beside you and turns you by the chin to sensually kiss you for Bucky’s smolder, embracing a cum covered tit in his giant hand. Kneading and pinching your nipple to tease you and him. “Ugh fuck yes. So hot…”

Next, that soiled hand abandons your trembling chest and voyages down your middle and barely grazes over your sensitive clit. Sending a shout into Chris’s humming mouth you squirm as he keeps teasing your bundle of nerves. Bucky watches on with shaky breaths, watches the way your spine curls off the mattress, gearing up to bust again. Perfect timing. The pressure builds, and you can’t breathe under Chris, but he releases you just in time to combust with Buck.

“Ooooooh my fuck! Fuck!” You shrill clamping a hand down on Chris’s bicep.

Bucky’s spurting cock slams you full, gripping your thighs to hold you steady. “Oh my god fuck yes…fuck yes princess cum all over me…”

The comedown is euphoric, obsessed with the sensation of Bucky emptying out in your fluttering walls. Catching this breath with a big sigh, Bucky brushes his damp hair out of his face, grinning down at you still spasming with a lighthearted smile. You’re awake. And it’s your motherfuckin birthday. Your boys came through with a whole attitude adjustment.

“Breakfast,” purrs Chris gently kissing your cheek before he hops out the bed.

“Bath.” Bucky nods at you depleted on the bed, extending his sticky hand out help you up. Somehow you find the strength to lift your dead arm up to meet his and he tosses you up over his shoulder so you wouldn’t have to worry about using your noodle legs. Your boys know how you. As Chris walks out your bedroom, he pops you on the ass with a laugh.

“How about waffles.”

How could this day get any fuckin better. While Bucky prepares you a bath, Chris is getting breakfast ready for the three of you. As Bucky washes your back, you vent out every last grief you’ve had the past few weeks. It felt good to purge, especially in a shared tub with your brooding teddy bear listening to you go on and on with no complaints. Giving you advice and comfort…and loving kisses, apologizing for everything that you’d been feeling. You love it when your grumpy old man is so sweet on you. Even more when your badass babe joins in on the fun. Announcing food is ready as he climbs in and Bucky climbs out. Bath water waving as Chris pulls you into his arms.

“Don’t be long.”

Burying his nose into your neck and holding you so tight, he replies, “real quick promise,” kissing your wet nape and shoulder, murmuring softly, “Wanna wash my back?”

Your cheeks hurt so much you can’t stop smiling, and laughing, and swooning so hard at your little monsters spending quality time with you. Divulging all the mischief they’d been up to while you’d been too busy too see them. All you can do is roll your eyes and shake your head, snickering as you listen to their goof stories. Food’s devoured and plates are cleared. You’re already yawning because let’s admit it, you were already exhausted before these two showed up and showed out. A little more sleep sounds too damn good. Wedged between your boys? Even better. They’re already two steps ahead of you. Escorting you back to the bedroom, they let you in on the plans for the night: a small kickback with all your friends.

“You guys really didn’t have to.” You yawn crawling back into the bed. They really didn’t but you can’t help but admire them for thinking about you.

“No problem.” They smirk in unison, climbing in behind you snuggling in with a smile. When did one of them change the sheets? Really outdoing themselves today. It doesn’t take long, your lids falling shut once Bucky and Chris secure their positions around you. This is about to be some of the best sleep.

Metal music blasting. Your friends cackling and shouting over the noise. With the way the alcohol is flowing, the night’s going well. And you felt on top of the world with everyone around you having a good time. Bucky bringing you your drinks whenever you’re close to empty. Chris sitting across from you rolling your joints with that devilish smirk of his. You’re only allowed to stay lifted, cherish the night with your favorite people on this planet. It was like your shit month never happened you felt so relaxed.

The night rages. Bucky’s kicking everyone’s ass in quarters, arm wrestling anyone challenges him while Chris is shuffling a deck of cards, getting ready for another round of Screw Your Neighbor. A bottle of Jack sitting in the middle of the table. The room’s full of genuine joy and good times. This is the birthday you wanted and you didn’t even know it. Looking around the room you heart swells, your smile grows.

“Having a good time?”

You’re standing alone in the kitchen when Chris walks in on you grabbing a drink of water. You might be too faded, head all goofy and cheeks tingling, but you’ll be just fine with your boys around. Approaching you from behind he soothes his hands around your waist, pulling your round ass right into his hard on. You drop a hand to his arms with a snort, turning your chin to meet his pretty lips.

“Of course. And it’s all thanks to you big softies.” There’s a kiss. “You guys are the fuckin best.”

“We aim to please.”

His slithering tongue meets yours as he presses harder against your ass. His arms squeeze you tighter. The kiss deepens with thirsty groans. Brain’s already cloudy and Chris’s mouth doesn’t help you feel any less disoriented. It’s like the noise of the party has faded out and you could hear was your accelerating heartbeat. His gyrating cock burns you up. Locked against his thick hot body. Your need consumes your intoxicated mind so that without even realizing, your lifting the skirt of your little black dress to pull your panties down til they hit the ankles of your combat boots.

“You sure Princess?” Chris grins against your lips as you nod your heavy head and grind your bare ass up and down his length.

“It’s my birthday,” you mumble pecking his bottom lip with a crooked smirk, “I get what I want.”

Chuckling sinisterly Chris goes to unbuckle his belt, casting his heated sight on you looking up at with wide glossy eyes. “What if someone walks in?” One hand reaches down to caress his throbbing cock while the other lands a nice slap on your ass.

You yip then moan, dropping your head once you feel Chris’s hot skin along the crack of your ass. “Guess they get a show.”

Shaking his head with a smile, he slips a tender hand down your spine, watching you sway your hips side to side over his leaking dick. All you feel is tingly, but airy…huffing out steady breaths with small needy moans. God you have to have him inside you right now you missed the way he takes his time fucking into you. Slow but determined. His hand steadies you, the tip of his dick rests right against your slick entrance.

“Hmm…a proper view too.” Just one stroke is all it took to have you gasping for air. Chris always fills you up perfectly. Taking ahold of you by the hair he tugs you closer to his chiseled chest. “Mmmshit you’re so fuckin wet Princess.”

You hold on to the edge of the counter for dear life as he smoothly strokes against your spot settled deep inside you. Crying out his name but no one can hear you over the blaring guitar solos and screaming coming from the speakers in the other room. His lips pursed against the edge of your ear he grunts and groans directly into your skull and it only drives you even crazier.

“Oh fuckin hell!” You tremble after he slaps the shit out your ass again. “Fuck me daddy. Fuck…”

Chris fists and yanks your roots as he picks up the pace. You feel too damn good drowning his dick his thrusts get greedier. “Daddy’s gonna fuck this pussy all night.” He vows with haughty groans. “Gonna take care of his Princess god fuck.”

There’s a ruckus of sorts coming from the party but you two barely register all the shouts and laughter. Too immersed in one other to notice Bucky stumbling in holding his stomach, cracking up but then cutting it short when he finds you two really getting after it. Sighing a smile, he shakes his head and walks over, teasing,

“We have guests.”

Chris doesn’t even look his way, keeps his dark eyes tunneled into yours pooling with tears. “The birthday girl asked nicely. How could I tell her no.” Chris defends with a low growl still slamming into you defenseless and used but so fuckin happy. Buck’s ice cold fingertips brush the edge of your pouty lips with a soft smirk. His steel blue eyes beaming at the sight of you completely out of it.

“Fair. And she does look absolutely fuckable tonight does she not?” He slips one metal finger between your pouty lips then adds another for you to suck. “Wearing something a little slutty just for us.”

Nodding and moaning around his smooth fingers you remove your right hand from the counter and grab Bucky’s dick over his rough denim. His brows raise in surprise. He knows what that means. Chris and Bucky’s smoldering gazes meet.

“Buck.” The corners of his lips twitch.

“But…” They could just call it an early night, get everyone out but apparently there’s no time for that. You’re already pulling his zipper down.

“Bucky…” Slipping your fingers through the opening you weakly call out to him, begging for him not to turn you down. Maybe no one will notice that you guys are gone and if they do, maybe they’ll catch the hint and won’t come looking for you all. A shaky moan falls from his pink lips when you carefully pull him out. Slipping between you and the counter Bucky plunges in for an arousing kiss as Chris pulls out, using your essence as lube to get stroke his dick against your ass. You rest his fat shaft along your slit, coating it with your creamy goodness.

“Atta boy Buck…” Chris winks grabbing and squeezing your tits from behind. “Give our girl what she wants…”

“Fuck…so needy Princess…” sighs Bucky meeting your grinding hips rocking up and down his veiny rigid dick. His fat head dipping in and out of your dripping wet hole.

“Uh huh…” you whimper reaching up for his shaky lips to taste, “need both you daddies…”

Chris loved to hear it, spitting down on his cock with a crooked grin. “We got you.” He grips your ass cheeks apart, nudging at your puckered hole.

“We’ll do whatever you want.” Bucky hooks your leg up on his forearm giving him more access to your pussy. Your breath hitches loudly as they simultaneously sink inside, filling you up more than you can handle but fuck it…

“Fuck.” You sob, holding onto Bucky for support, clawing his chest. Fisting his shirt. The ache feels so fuckin gratifying. “Oh fuck yes.”

The party’s still going in the other room; everyone cheering when a Deftone’s song comes on and shouting about shots. Chris and Bucky crush you with their brutal pumps, shouting curse words over your head. Between their animalistic noises, the tone of the song, and how insanely stuffed you feel, you’re lightheaded. Fading in and out, nothing but tiny whimpers. Wedged between your beasts. Your pussy can’t stop squirting fluid down Bucky’s balls. Your legs like Jello thank god he was holding you up. Using your worn holes to chase their own high, they pump you faster, resting their sweaty foreheads against one another. Panting in each other’s awed faces. So wet you’ve probably came a few times already; you’re just here until they’re filling you up with their hot cum and they’re close…you can hear it in their tired groans. Feel their bodies shudder and stiffen as their strong hands grip your tits, your ass cheeks until they’re crumbling, together, cum spilling out your feeble holes. Holding each other completely exhausted.

“Thank you daddy. Thank you.” You whisper between Chris and Bucky, taking turns kissing them with gratitude. For this day. For this party. For being them. They smile all big and proud, pulling out to clean you up and put you back together as if they didn’t just fuck the shit out of you for the second time today…and there’s still more to come.

“Hey! Bucky!” One of your friends shout to the room, “Get your ass in here for flip cup!”

All three of you bust out laughing, still hugging and kissing each other in recovery mode. Just in the nick of time. Suddenly everyone from the other room is calling for you three of you to come back for more drinking games. You need another joint to really live in this come down.

“Alright already!” Bucky shouts as you guys head back to the living room, locking his beefy arm around your shoulders. A chuckling Chris lingering behind you two.

“After this round though, let’s call it.” He flips up your skirt to sneak another peak of where he just obliterated you. Giggling you swat at his hands. “I need more of the birthday girl.”

Bucky glances back at him with a sly grin as the rock music starts to envelop them. “Oh trust me…I’m already ahead of you Chris…”

[jaeminscoffee]

Daddy Issues | S. Jn

Pairing | Seo Johnny x Fem!Reader

Genre | Smut, fluff

Wc;type | oneshot: 3.93k [not proof read]

Warning(s) | Pwp, dilf!johnny, y/n's a pillow princess, daddy kink, overstimulation, teasing, edging, dacryphilia, slight voyeurism, degradation kink, heavy use of the words 'doll, princess, slut, pretty, angel', typical lyra smut, i made haechan johnny's son (i was about to write changbin as johnny's son but decided against it) age gap, unprotected sex ( the Reader's on pills. Remember this is a fiction, don't play the wrong card irl) filth.

a/n- i found this request buried in my asks and was tempted to write it. Sure, the warning looks intimidating, but i know you wanna read it, y'all whores (ily) shoutout to @bakugou-is-my-bae @cvntzennie and @jenopollo for helping me decide what to post first! @suhpersonic

Minors try not to interact! <3

Age is just a number, so surely, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of, right? 

There's no reason for you to not fall for the friendly neighborhood bachelor, well not so bachelor bachelor, since he does go around asking people who knows of his marriage to pretend it never took place. 

Johnny's hot, super hot. Has the build of a supermodel. Has the face that one can only imagine belongs to a greek god, as you'd jokingly tell him how he seemed to be god's favorite and how you loathe Aphrodite for showing favoritism (which would always end up with you getting a very sultry, teasing look from the lad) 

Johnny has the type of personality that women can only wish the entirety of the male species would possess. He's an absolute sweetheart, life of the party, definitely the center of attention wherever he goes. And oh god, does he have an immaculate fashion sense. 

But Johnny's also the father of Donghyuck. Your best friend. 

More than being ashamed about the fact that you actually fell in love with a man who has a child of your age, it was the fact that you had to fall for Donghyuck's father of all people. 

Donghyuck is a sweetheart, definitely got his personality from his father but he's also got that glare that could creep the Lord's of the darkness from his father. He's got so much from his father that the resemblance is uncanny. 

You'd not want to get onto hyuck's bad side since you've gotten first hand experience at stopping him from almost committing homicide to someone who spoke shit about his friends, more specifically, you. 

But Hyuck's not in town. So a little fun with Mr. Suh wouldn't hurt anyone, correct? After all, you're still only a human with desires and the want to take risks. 

You'd always not so subtly drop hints at Johnny and he'd always give you that look that would have slick collecting itself between your thighs. A warning look. 

A look that said, "cross the line and you'll get it" 

But that's the thing, you want to get it and will do anything to get it.

"Y/n." 

You'd ask yourself less than a million times if you want to do this or not.

Sure, you weren't this hesitant when you decided to sext your best friend's father knowingly when he was in business mode to irk him up but that's one thing. 

And having to confront the same father who left a message smaller than a sentence that completely disregarded all the obscene text and images to show that he's not the slightest bothered or suprised by your behavior for that matter was another thing.

"Tomorrow at mine." 

It's almost as though he deals with hormonal teenagers one as such as yourself on a daily basis and that thought kind of backfired at you considering the whole 'Let's piss Johnny off so that he'd finally give me what i want' agenda. 

Ironic, huh? 

"Mr. Suh." you start hesitantly, unsure of what to call him, scared of what his reaction would be after your inappropriate shenanigans last night. 

Your stiff demeanor broke down a little with just a hint of shiver passing down your spine as you watch his features contort into a subtle but cocky smirk, "So now you're being all formal,"

"Well, what else would you like me to address you as?" you inquire, feigning oblivion to his tone and what he's implying at. "You tell me, doll. You seemed to have a lot of names to call me last night," he takes a step forward, prompting you to walk a step backwards, further into the corridors of his apartment and away from the actual location. 

"I do not know what you're talking about.. " you let your voice shrivel towards the end, eyes wandering around the complex, finding interest in every small detail as you avoid Johnny's teasing gaze. 

"You don't?" Johnny takes another step forward, latching his hands onto your forearms to prevent you from stepping further away, "You must have had a heavy sleep to forget all that you did last night," his voice drops dangerously low as he begins to walk backwards and back into the safety of his apartment, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on you.

"That won't do, would it? How about we take a walk down the memory lane? And see if that rings any bell?" He brushes your hair away from its static position on your shoulder, allowing him to appreciate all those fine details of your shoulders and neck that are exposed from your selection of clothing, an off shoulder. 

"How about we don't...?" You ask with skepticism, jolting slightly when you hear the door shut behind you and at the new intrusion of personal space by the lad.

"Why are you acting all shy now, Y/n? Weren't you the one so eager to get into her best friend's fathers pants? Just be the whore you are, darling. Your facade's fooling no one." okay you definitely didn't see that coming. 

Johnny's expressions morph into that of mischief as he watches your eyes grow wide and mouth fall ajar, "Am i not correct? Are you not a whore?" he asks with an eyebrow quirked up in a questioning manner.

You don't reply, almost as though the question was meant to linger in the open and that it was a rhetorical one. What you didn't expect, however, was for Johnny's hands to find pursuit around your neck, not necessarily applying pressure, but there as a warning. 

"Answer me." 

"I'm not.." you answer with a feeble voice, internally cringing at how squeaky you sound which only added to Johnny's amusement. 

"Really? Because I don't think good girls go around drooling at a divorced man, her friend's father for that matter and definitely do not send lewd images and voice out their fantasies to a guy twice their age, still want to pretend you're innocent? Or you admit it and we cut down the chase?"

"Yes, I am." you breathe out when his fingers tighten around your neck, a triumphant smile making its way onto his lips. Yet, Johnny felt the need to keep pushing,

"you're what?" 

"I am what you said I am," you speak, trying to avoid looking at the scrutinizing look on his face which seemed futile as he had his arms wrapped around your neck, keeping your head in place. 

"I want to hear you say it, doll. I need to hear you say it." At this point Johnny's intent was to get you into a flustered puddle in his hold and it sure as hell was going in that direction, seeing how you can't even hold his gaze for more than a few seconds in a shot. 

"I am.. I am a who-"

The sound of a phone ringing loud cut you off midway through your sentence, to which you were absolutely relieved. Johnny only seemed to grow annoyed the more he heard the phone ring. With a loud huff, he lets you go, not before giving you a stern look, "Go to my room." he instructed, making his way to the study. 

You let out a breath you've been holding in unknowingly the moment he steps away from you. You watch his figure retreat from you with awe, only now realizing how messy you felt between your legs and how your knees keep buckling. 

"Oh Hyuck!" you hear Johnny exclaim into the phone the minute you step forward to follow his command. 

Your best friend is on call with the guy you're about to fuck. 

Your blood runs cold as you shakily make your way into the apartment and towards the bedroom, shrugging off your sling bag, hanging it behind the door as you place your phone on the bedside table to wipe your hands dry from all the sweat that had accumulated at the palm of your hands. 

"Yeah, I'm fine, about to eat to my dinner actually" you hear the moment to make yourself comfortable at the edge of the bed, looking over to the door where Johnny stood with his arms across his chest, the other holding up the phone as he leans his weight onto one shoulder, leaning into the doorframe.

You take the time to really appreciate his appearance. He adorned nothing more than a simple grey sweat and tight black tee but he seemed ready to walk down a runway at any given moment now. His long hair, slightly disheveled looking almost intentionally messed up, compliments his features. And oh his features. 

The everlasting smirk stayed still on his lips, moving as he exchanged words with his son.

You only come back to your senses when Johnny snapped his free hand in front of you, gaining your attention. He points at his own shirt, then points at you, mouthing 'off' while he listens to Donghyuck speak about whatever he's speaking. 

"Really? Jeno said that? Tell him I'm more than willing to welcome him as my gym partner, the lad seems strong" Johnny makes a quick move to remove the gadget from his ear, before holding it in front of him after placing the call on speaker mode 

Your eyes widen the moment you hear the disturbance in the background and Donghyuck's voice resonate through the room. "no?? Why would you want to work out with him? He'll only make you feel old, you know?" 

"Says the one who still can't beat me at arm wrestling. If anything, i think Jeno would make the perfect gym buddy for me," Johnny raises an eyebrow at your defiance, cocking his head towards the side, staring down at you with a predatory look, "Hyuck, you know, Y/n-" you scramble to take your shirt off at the mention of your name on the call, "-stopped by earlier" he lets out a silent laugh of disbelief.

"Oh? Oh yeah! I'd told her I'd give her book back before I left but I forgot, did you perhaps give it back to her?" Donghyuck questions. 

"I figured you must've forgotten so, yeah i did." Johnny replies, pushing himself off of the doorframe, now walking towards you. 

"Man, I miss her! I might facetime her after I end the call with you," Johnny sets down the phone beside you on the bed, leaning down, placing both his hands on either side of your lap, finding comfort at the crook of your neck,

"I remember her mentioning something about her cousin coming over? Maybe wait for an hour or so before calling her" his lips graze against your neck each time he spoke, you let out a tiny whimper at the so longed feeling, only to earn yourself a small bite at the earlobe, immediately accompanied by a hand over your mouth, "you need to be quiet, doll. Or my son would find out how much of a slut his best friend is," he whispers in your ear. 

"Yeah? Did she mention which one?" 

"No, not really, she kinda just stormed out after getting what she wanted" Johnny creates a trail of kisses all the way from your neck to your shoulders, down the collarbone while one of his hand worked to unhook your bra, "Yeah, she's weird like that," you hear Donghyuck let out a chuckle as you whine into Johnny's palm, your figure slightly trembling from the fear of getting caught all the while being excited about the risky situation he's put the two of you in. 

"Anyways, I'll call you tomorrow? The boys are coming over now so I got to go! Night, dad!" Donghyuck speaks up again, "Night, Hyuck." 

You hear the beep indicating the call has ended. Johnny let's his hand drop from your mouth and makes its way towards your hair, brushing through the strands before pulling at it with a firm grip, "I had my son on call and here you are making all these sweet noises, you wanted to get busted, doll?" 

"It's not my fault! You-"

"ah-ah! Don't talk back, angel. You're already in deep trouble, don't want to add onto that now, do we?" He makes a swift move to have you lying on your back, your torso completely exposed to him while he remains clothed. 

"But Johnny-" you whine, jolting when you feel his hands caressing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, "How do you think Hyuck would feel about this?" his hands travel further north, cupping your heat from underneath your skirt. "fuck, you're drenched"

"Now tell me, pretty girl, what are you supposed to be calling me, now?" 

"Johnny-, tha-that was a joke! I don't have daddy kin-" you try clenching your thighs close from the sudden attention your core was receiving. Johnny wholeheartedly lets out a laugh at your attempt to hide your true feelings, making a quick act of disregarding your soaked panties somewhere behind him.

"Darling, the more you deny it, the longer we keep going at it-" his thumbs at your clit, applying pressure but making no move to quench your needs. You let out a sigh of bliss at the feeling, your back arching off of the sheets at the sensation.

In any other situation, you'd be embarrassed at how sensitive you'd gotten just from all the dirty talking and looks Johnny passed you. But that's the catch, he's Johnny, the only one who can get you this sensitive while doing the bare minimum. 

"Say it, Y/n." 

"No, Johnny! It's-it's embarrassing.." you plead with your eyes, grinding your hips against his fingers, earning a satisfied, dirty look from the lad. 

"Very well.. I'll just draw it out of you"

Without warning, Johnny with little to no resistance, slides two slender digits into your wetness, setting a pace fast enough to draw loud chains of cries from your mouth.

"You hear that, doll? You hear how fucking wet you are? Hm?" he growls animalistically, the thumb that remained on your clit now moving in circles with a motive to get you undone in seconds. 

"Johnn-..!" you whine out, feeling your orgasm growing so close that you could almost taste it, "Still going at that, angel?" he questions, not really expecting an answer as he soaks up the pleasured look on your face. "Johnny- I'm close.. -" you fail to notice the mischievous grin growing on his face as he speeds up the movement of his fingers. 

"Of course you are, doll" He feels you clench around his fingers, back coming off of the mattress as you ready yourself for your release, waiting until the last minute to draw his finger out.

"Why would you-? Johnn-I was so close!" you cry out as you sense your core clench around nothing, whining about the incomplete orgasm. "Why would I give you what you want when you wouldn't comply, baby? That's not how this works." He shrugs, licking his fingers clean of your essence, moving up from the bed to remove the shirt that seemed to be suffocating now.

"Johnny, please!" you whine louder, rubbing your thighs together to create some sort of friction, all unsatisfactory as it did not meet the same intensity as that of his fingers. 

"Please what, doll?" He smirks, knowing the ball is in his court and that you'd had to give in any moment now. Johnny leans down once again, drawing lazy circles at your clit, using his other hand to hold himself up above and close to you, his minty breath which had a hint of coffee fanning your face as you whimper, finally feeling your high building itself up again. "Spit it out, princess, you know you want to." he speaks in a soft voice.

"Please..please" you beg for nothing in particular, getting all worked up again, "The begging's lovely, doll. But you're starting to anger me here, will you say it? Or should I leave you hanging again?" 

You mutter prayers under your breath, hoping he wouldn't actually leave you hanging again, "Fine-" he moves again to remove his fingers from you to deprive you of pleasure all over again when you finally latch onto his wrist, keeping his hands in place blurting out, "Daddy! I'm so-sorry.. There, daddy, please make me come" you give in, the name, the feeling and look of pure victory on his face as he grins like a cheshire cat only intensifies the heat growing at a rapid pace at the pit of your stomach. 

"Final fucking ly, princess. Daddy will make you feel good" He reinserts his fingers in, drilling it with desperation to see you come undone as he draws rapid circles on your now sensitive clit with the other hand, watching you squirm under him.

"Joh-Daddy i'm coming..!" you cry out weakly as you feel your orgasm hit you with much force, easily driving you into over sensitivity. Johnny's patient in helping you ride out your orgasm, not stopping until you let out a throaty sob and plead him to stop to allow yourself some room to breathe. 

Johnny, however, makes no move to stop, only speeding up his fingers, his gaze fixed on where his fingers disappeared inside of you while his other hand held you down with a vise grip, "Give me one more, doll. I know you've got one more in you. " he pants, the feeling of his girth in confinement only throwing himself to sensory deprivation as he feels himself twitch inside his sweats painfully. 

You shake your head, tears now flowing elegantly down your cheek, your lips puckered into a slight pout, your eyebrows drawn together as you let yourself melt into the pleasure Johnny was providing you with. "Daddy.." 

You whine, feeling your second high reaching you ridiculously quick as you see Johnny's face contort in concentration, 

"I need to get you nice and wet for me, princess, you're doing so well. Give daddy another one" you coaxes you with his sultry tone, words and actions, inevitably having you come undone under him for the second time that night. 

You let out a choked moan, finally having enough as you curl upon yourself the minute Johnny removes his fingers from you, full fledged crying at the overbearing feeling of sensitivity. 

Johnny groans at the sight, leaning down to press a soft peck on your sweaty forehead before getting off of the bed to remove his pants alongside his boxer at a slow speed, granting you some time to recover.

"Condom?" he asks, readying himself to reach into the drawing when he notices you shake your head a no as a reply, "I'm on pills.." you mutter weakly. 

You hear him curse out at the thought of doing you raw, flexing his muscles before climbing on top of you again. He takes his time to gently turn you back onto your back, pressing his tender lips against your irritated one for the first time that night, his hand ever so slightly moving to play with your clit once again, making you jerk, "Daddy!" 

"Sorry, doll. Daddy just needs to make sure that princess is ready to take his cock" 

Your whining intensifies at his words, wiggling your hips to move closer to his own, "But I am ready! Look, daddy! I'm so wet and ready for you!" you whimper, earning a chuckle from the lad. 

Just like all the other times that night, he aligns his cock at your entrance without a warning, the tip ever so slightly pushing through your walls, "Alright, big girl. Show daddy how much of a slut you can be for him."

Suddenly, Johnny detaches himself from you, moving further away as he leans by the edge of the door, smirking at you whining at the loss of contact, "Patience, angel" 

He grabs hold of your hips, manhandling your body into all fours as he enters you completely with no trouble once he's got you where he wants you to be.  

Something about having to take Johnny from behind was so sexy that you could almost immediately feel your orgasm grow, "Fuck baby, keep clenching around me like that and i won't last long," he grunts, moving in you with a steady pace, 

"I never expected my son to befriend such filthy sluts like you, Y/n. Look at the mess you're making on my sheets" He grabs a fistful of your ass in a tight squeeze, the sudden shift in his demeanor only serving as a whiplash as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the sweet orgasm. 

"Jesus, doll, you're so fucking tight i can barely move" Johnny growls, talking to keep himself from coming too fast. 

"Daddy.. I'm close. M-I'm so so close" you cry as your arms give out and you fall face first onto the mattress, the new stretch in your back only encouraging his cock to hit you deeper, finding the sweet cushion that serves as extra pleasure for you. 

"Me too, princess, me too.. '' You hear him let out a whine, his thrusts growing sloppier as he does you slower but deeper. 

He reaches around your body to find pursuit at your clit for the nth time that night, rubbing rapid, messy circles to go with his deep thrusts, "Daddy!" you reach your high with a high pitched cry of his name. 

Johnny comes not too long after you as he couldn't resist the constant tight clenching of your walls around his cock. He thrust slowly to ride out his high as you twitch helplessly, face scrunched up in too much pleasure. 

You feel your body being manoeuvred onto your side as he whispers sweet nothings which pass right through your ears as you feel him softened inside you, the feeling ridiculously soothing for your used up walls, 

"You did amazing, darling." he kisses your temple, not making any move to remove himself from within you, which you silently thanked him for. 

You both lay in silence as you turned your body towards him, earning a hiss and a playful smack from him as it added pressure onto his sensitive member. You wrap your arms around his torso, about to nuzzle into his chest and just drift away to dreamland when you hear the familiar ring of your phone from the table beside the bed. 

You feel Johnny's body shift to reach out to get your phone, looking at the caller ID before handing it to you with a smirk that you knew meant that he was up to no good. "Oh! It's hyuck" you exclaim in shock, quickly accepting the call and placing it near your ear, moving to get away from him. 

But Johnny seemed to have other ideas, as he latched an arm around your torso to keep you from moving, "Hey-" you begin, immediately feeling Johnny experimentally thrust into you again, making you whine, "Y/n! I miss you~-oh hey, are you okay?" you hear Donghyuck's voice from the other side, 

You look at Johnny with a pleading and warning gaze to which you earn yourself a toothy grin from the lad, 

"Of co-course! Just a little.. peachy,'' You turn around to place a hand on his chest to halt his movement, "You don't sound just peachy.. I've heard you like this before!" you hear Donghyuck make those noises he makes when he's thinking as Johnny keeps thrusting lazily the more you look at him, you see him open his mouth to speak, "Oh fuck! You're getting laid, aren't you???" 

"Tell Hyuck daddy says hi"

[ask-asexual-crystal-gems]

Hi, I don't want to be rude, I'm just trying to learn and don't know who else to ask about this sort of thing:

I've recently started learning a little bit about asexuality, and the main thing I don't really understand is how people can really be so sure about this sort of thing (especially really young people; I've seen kids barely eleven or twelve years old calling themselves ace). I know so many people (particularly women) who never felt any sort of sexual attraction, and were sure they never would, and then they eventually did.

Including myself! Like I said, the term "asexual" isn't something I encountered until fairly recently, but there was a very long stretch of time (read: all of middle school and all of high school and even the first year or two of college) where, if I'd known the words, I'd probably have considered myself ace, or at least demi. I was completely sex-repulsed (again, not a term I was familiar with at the time, I just thought of myself as a prude). (I liked looking at cute boys, but only in the way you look at paintings: nice to watch for a while, but I had no desire to touch or even talk to them.) Sex just sounded really gross and I didn't get the appeal in the slightest. (And whenever my friends started gushing about hot guys and their abs, I just got totally confused. How did the amount of muscle a guy had determine his attractiveness?)

(I also didn't have my first real crush until I was almost seventeen, and it was with a guy I'd literally known my entire life (who was totally off-limits for many reasons) but had only recently started hanging out with one-on-one and realized how much we had in common. It was a mess and I was an emotional wreck for months until I got over him.)

And then one day, when I was around twenty or so, I woke up and realized that sex just didn't weird me out anymore. I wasn't about to run out and have a one-night stand with the first semi-decent looking man I met, but the idea of being like that with a guy (especially one I really cared about) suddenly sounded really nice and like something to look forward to. And something I wanted sooner rather than later.

To me, it feels like a lot of it is just the backlash of our highly over-sexualized culture, where sex and romance are pushed at us (again, particularly girls) from a very young age, often in a rather shallow, unrealistic, pornographic, Hollywood-esque way, and touch in general is seen as less and less platonic (when I was in high school, I thought nothing of holding hands with my friends or leaning my head on their shoulders or even sharing a bed on a sleepover, but nowadays if you do that sort of thing with anyone but family, the assumption is that you're in some sort of non-platonic relationship).

(When I was in college, my mother saw me running my fingers through a female friend's hair and asked if there was something I wanted to tell her. I was confused at first, and when I understood what she meant I was really upset. Not because I was offended at being considered gay, but because platonic touch has always been so so important to me and the realization that from now, on it would be seen as something else hurt. (And also because I was still rather sex-repulsed and the thought of being in that sort of relationship with anyone, especially someone I thought of as practically a sister, was gross.))

We're simultaneously being told, "don't show any sort of physical affection to anyone you don't want to sleep with" and "you should have sex as often and with as many people as you possibly can." And more and more, young people are rejecting that hook-up culture mentality; and where once they would have been considered late-bloomers or old-fashioned or even pretty normal, it's now seen as them having a "problem" or being "weird." And, like every difference, it needs a clear-cut label we can use in response. ("There's nothing wrong with me, I'm just [insert group label here]." "Well, when we thought you were just a freak, we felt justified in being rude, but now that you can call us [insert aforementioned label]-phobic, we probably shouldn't do that. (And if we do, you have like-minded people who'll protest in your defense.)")

But to me, labels aren't always a good thing, and can even be dangerous at times. Once someone puts a label on themself, they often feel like they have to keep using it, even if it no longer fits. Especially if they've shared it with everyone they know, and were celebrated for it.

(Where someone like me might once have only gotten into their first relationship in their twenties and just explained it as, "oh, I'm just a late bloomer" or "I hadn't found the right person yet," they might now say to themselves that "last year I told everyone that I was aroace, so if I show up somewhere with a boyfriend, I'll either be made fun of or accused of lying. And even if they don't, I'm going to feel really stupid about that coming out party they threw for me. I may as well keep using this label even it doesn't accurately reflect how I feel.")

I guess what I'm trying to ask is what makes people, especially young people, (and particularly young women, who generally have a lower sex drive than boys of the same age) so sure that they can't feel sexual and/or romantic attraction, and aren't just "late bloomers" like myself? And what is the difference between the two?

(Sorry this ended up being so long, I guess I had more thoughts on the subject than I thought. Again, I really am not trying to be rude or accuse anyone of anything, I genuinely want to educate myself and understand more.)

Hoo boy this IS a long one, so I’m gonna have to do it in pieces, I think.

Probably gonna either reblog multiple times or start separate posts using this as a prompt list of sorts and then link them back to this one.

*stretches

ok, let’s begin here

“particularly women.”

Yes, it is very likely that there are more ace spec women than men. (Or afabs vs. amabs or lower testosterone people vs. higher testosterone people if we’re gonna go on that tangent.)

This is just basically true at face value, when talking bell curve distributions. No need to comment on it further.

(unless you want me to start in on a feminist rant about how the same way we as a society tend to linguistically use ‘he’ as the default pronoun, we, especially in media, also use male-coded attraction experiences as the “norm.”)

“there was a very long stretch of time”

Yes. That’s gray ace. Experiencing attraction very infrequently.

The thing that I see people struggling with with these 2 concepts is, “but what if demisexuality or graysexuality is normal for many women?” What if it is? That’s fine and cool and isn’t it great in this modern age we now have language to express and describe female-coded experiences instead of living with unspoken and unconscious norms and feeling broken and in some cases being literally over-medicalized by doctors when male partners don’t get their “needs” met [BIG emphasis on those scare quotes]

“I was completely sex-repulsed (again, not a term I was familiar with at the time, I just thought of myself as a prude).”

People grow and change in their sexuality. Bi folks preferences and leanings may change over time with their body changing. Some die-hard lesbians end up falling for men. Sexuality is fluid and malleable. This does not invalidate sexuality or your relationship to it at any given point in time in your life.

As long as we keep in mind as a culture that you are allowed to grow and change in your sexuality, there is no problem with using a set of labels, because you have the understanding that you can always change them later. Anybody who’s not on board with that and gives themselves or others grief over it has some growing up to do of their own.

Minors have sex with each other, or have interest in doing so, and if you felt Othered by that, then you did. There’s no changing that lived experience or whatever the biological differences are that underpin it. We can only become more accepting to fix the first. The second is immutable.

Let me repeat for emphasis.

Sexuality is fluid and malleable. This does not invalidate sexuality or your relationship to it at any given point in time in your life. Yes this includes childhood. Some people experience their first period as early as 6 years old.

They are the statistical outliers at that stage in life, but you, or at least people like you, are the outlier when it comes to other 15 year olds. Some of whom have been masturbating avidly since they were 11. Many try really hard to studiously ignore the fact that kids/teens have a sexuality, and that results not only in a whole lot of internalized shame, nearly a decade worth of it, but also forced confusion (might be termed collective gaslighting?) like this over whether a 15 year old can ‘really’ tell if they are different from their peers.

“(And whenever my friends started gushing about hot guys and their abs, I just got totally confused. How did the amount of muscle a guy had determine his attractiveness?)”

Exactly.

Didn’t even get to reading this part yet and I had already covered being Othered.

Whether it was malicious or passive doesn’t matter.

pansexuals and demisexuals and sapiosexuals would all feel Othered in these situations.

So let’s start validating those lived experiences rather than constantly putting them down by questioning them.

To Be Continued >>

[sundaysundaes]

Craving

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Vampire AU, Roommates AU | Smut, Fluff, Humor, Romance

Summary: Dating a brat is exhausting. Dating a bratty vampire is even more exhausting so you wonder, why did I even agree to this?

It’s a continuation of Love Bites but can be read separately because it’s really just 12k long of vampire porn with no real plot.

Warnings: Vampire sex, bondage, oral sex (69), overstimulation, unprotected sex, fingering, implied public sex, a little bit of dom!hyuck and a little bit of exhibitionist!hyuck, blood sucking (plenty of that) 

Not once in your life did you ever imagine yourself dating a vampire. And certainly, never thought about living together with that so-called vampire boyfriend of yours. You never know what to expect from a situation like this but maybe it’s better not to think too much about it anyway since Lee Donghyuck always manages to exceed your expectation.

Before you became his personal midnight snack, Donghyuck had to search for his own food which either meant he had to buy blood bags from the cheapest hospital around or pick up girls with low self-esteems downtown to have kinky and messy—like really messy, blood everywhere, you don’t want to imagine—one night stands with them to fulfill both his needs for blood and sex. He often complained about it, grumbling with his lips turning into this adorable pout as he told you how he wasn’t fond of his way of life or the effort he had to make just to survive.

So now that he has you as his personal walking blood bag, Donghyuck is having the time of his life and he’s enjoying every minute of it. He’s one hundred percent happy all the time that it annoys the heck out of you. It’s not that you don’t want him to be happy—of course, you want your boyfriend to be happy—but happy Donghyuck means he’s gonna get all clingy and playful, and him being clingy and playful means hell.

“Hyuck.”

“Yes, baby?”

“I’m trying to do my laundry.”

“I’m aware.”

“So, can you get off of me for a second, please?”

“For a second? Sure.” He untangles himself away from you but only for a second, literally. “Second’s up!” The way he giggles is almost like a child, circling his arms along your waist and buries his face in the crook of your neck again, nuzzling up to you while chanting, “Cute, cute, cute, you’re so cute. The cutest girl in the whole universe!” 

Donghyuck is clingy as fuck. He can’t go through the whole ten minutes without, at least, ruffling your hair, poking your cheek, or pinching the bridge of your nose. You’ve known for a while that he’s fond of skinship more than anyone you’ve ever met and it was bearable before since he only did it when he was flirting with you. But ever since you’ve become official, he just literally couldn’t get his hands off you.

So, how on earth would you get any of your work done?

The second the sun sinks below the horizon, Donghyuck will come out of his room with the biggest smile on his face and his arms spread wide, “Baby, I’m awake! Come here and get your daily dose of Hyuck’s loving!” And if you don’t respond to him in the way he wants to—which is by embracing him and kissing him for a good half an hour or so—he will make sure you won’t be able to pay attention to anything else but him for the rest of the evening.

He follows you around like a puppy, humming the same Michael Jackson’s song over and over again as he waits for you to finish washing the dishes, his feet tapping against the floor to match the beats in his head.

“Don’t you have something else to do besides waiting for me?” You ask, scrubbing the rest of the barbecue sauce off your plate. 

“I do have something to do.” And he suddenly pops up behind you, blowing air to your ear. “You.”

And you raise your silver spoon in the air, forcing him to run to the other side of the room, whining, “Baby, that’s not fair!”

Whenever you’re busy reading a book, Donghyuck will snuggle close and insist for you to sit on his lap. You’re not complaining in the slightest because it does feel nice and he rarely does anything weird since he also enjoys spending his time watching tv with his chin placed on the top of your head and his arms circled idly around your waist. It’s you who tends to get distracted with the way his chest is pressing against your spine, his laugh reverberating straight to your skin whenever something funny is playing on the screen. And when you get distracted, your heart races, and when he hears your heartbeat increasing, he chuckles lowly, leaning in to nibble at your earlobe while whispering, “If you’re horny, you can just tell me, baby.”

And you smack him in the head with your book.

Today is a bit different. Today, you have dedicated yourself to switch your role and be the one who teases the hell out of him instead. But since he’s too sly, always a step ahead of you whenever you make a plan to humiliate him, there’s only one way you can win this game: ignoring him.

So that’s what you intend to do. When the night takes over and Donghyuck comes out from his room with a bird’s nest on his head and a cheeky grin on his face, saying, “Baby, I’m awake and I’m ready to hear how much you’ve missed me during the day,” you just sit there on the couch, flipping another page of your novel. “Hey, Hyuck,” you simply greet him.

“Hey, Hyuck?” He repeats, appalled and disgusted with the way you said it. “What kind of treatment is that? Is it that time of the month already?” He takes a whiff of the air. “No, it’s not. I can smell it.”

“For the sake of our relationship, please refrain yourself from smelling my scent to know my menstruation cycle in the future, thank you.”

“How? You want me to stop breathing?” He laughs to himself. “Just kidding. You know I don’t breathe.”

You want to roll your eyes and bury your face in your hands—ashamed of the things he said—but you realize that you have to play it cool and give him the cold shoulder.

Placing hands on his hips, he questions with a huff, “So I’m not getting any hug around here?” 

“I’ll be with you in a moment.” 

You move away from the living room, doing literally anything else but giving him what he asks for. Donghyuck sighs and follows you too, as expected, leaning his back against the kitchen counter as he waits for you to finish making yourself a cup of coffee.

“Did I do something that upset you?” He asks, scratching his cheek.

“No, of course not.” You smile, giving him a squeeze on his arm. But then you walk away, leaving him confused and bitter.

Ignoring him is both fun and hilarious because you can see him stealing glances at you even when he tries to act cool about it. He tries to distract himself by playing video games but he keeps on losing so he presses his fingers a little too hard to the controller, nearly breaking it in half.

“Careful,” you warn. “I borrowed that thing.”

“Whatever.” He throws the controller away, scoffing. “It’s stupid anyway.”

To know that his happy self can be reduced to this grumbling mess just because you’re ignoring him makes you feel elated and you wonder, am I a sadist for enjoying this so much?

Hours have passed and you still won’t give in to him, which is really something because he’s doing things that almost make you crawl back to his lap. Donghyuck knows how hot he is, knows how his eyebrow raise and half-lidded eyes do wonders to your heart and mind. So it’s not a surprise when he walks out of the bathroom with his wet hair pushed back, showcasing his temple and his perfect eyebrows. Droplets of water are sliding down from his bare chest to his v-lines, with his white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. He doesn’t head back to his room right away, and instead, takes a seat on the coffee table, right in front of you.

“Babe.”

You promise yourself inwardly that you will not take a fucking glance at him when he’s like this. “Hmm?”

“I know you’re trying your best to ignore me but your heart is beating like crazy.” He’s raising his eyebrow. You know it. You’re not seeing it but you know it. “Isn’t it time for you to give up your stupid little prank and make-out with me already?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This time, you open your MacBook, busying yourself with typing words on your keyboards.

Donghyuck walks over—still in his fucking towel and nothing more, for God’s sake—and leans closer from behind the couch. He looks over your shoulder as you browse the internet to find something to distract your thoughts. He snorts loudly when he sees the article you’re reading.

“Chalamet?” He jeers. “Who’s Timothee Chalamet? What kind of name is Timothee Chalamet?”

“He’s an Oscar nominee and he’s barely twenty-five. He’s cute.”

“So? I’m cuter than Timothee Chalamet. Way more beautiful too. Just FYI, they invented the term ‘beautiful’ to describe me actually. Happened a long time ago. It’s a fact.”

“That’s great,” you blankly respond, typing another name of a celebrity on the search bar. “I know there’s another term they invented for you.”

“What, ethereal?”

“Cocky-Ass Bitch.”

He gasps and he’s not even breathing.

And when you keep denying his protest, he pushes your MacBook away from your lap and tackles you down to the couch.

“I can’t believe you’re looking at some other dude when you have me paying you full attention,” he says, wetting his lower lip as he peers into your eyes, his body hovering dangerously close above yours. His eyes are gleaming with both desire and affection which still makes the knot in your stomach tighten to this day but you’re a tad better at controlling your expression this time. A droplet of water drops from the tip of his hair to your cheek.

Wiping it off with a slide of your thumb, you comment, “You’re wet.”

“So are you, ever since you’ve met me.” He winces at his words when a few seconds pass by in silence. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

You tap his cheek. “As long as you’ve learned your lesson.”

He pouts as he heads back to the main topic. “Your prank is going too far, Sweetheart.”

“What prank? I don’t do pranks, Hyuck. I’m not you.”

“So, why have you been ignoring me then?”

“Is it really that weird for me to just have some time for myself?”

“Well—I—” It’s the first time he ever seems lost for words. “I just—”

“What, are you thirsty?” You flatly ask, telling yourself to not let your eyes wander to the muscles in his arms and stomach. “Don’t tell me you want to drink again. It’s only been a day, Hyuck.”

“It’s not that!” He whines, pouting with his eyebrows knitting in a frown. “Can’t I snuggle with my girlfriend?”

“That’s literally what you’ve been doing all this time.”

“Yes, but you haven’t been focusing on me properly!” He sighs loudly, letting you go, and throws himself down on the other end of the couch with a loud huff. “You know what, I think we really should talk about this.”

“Talk about what?”

“About how you’re not really cute these days!” He blurts out, hands moving animatedly as he speaks. “You used to be all fidgety and shy, blushing all the time whenever you see me—”

“In your head, maybe. I don’t recall ever doing that.”

“See, this!” He throws his hands in the air, exasperated. “This is what I’m talking about. You’re mean to me now! Not cute at all!”

“Is this our first fight?” You ask, yawning a little which makes your boyfriend gapes in disbelief. “Are we really fighting over the fact I’m not cute anymore? Seriously?” But when he becomes more upset, you break out in a grin. “I’m just messing with you.” Still laying down on the couch, you tug at his hand. “Come here.”

He crosses his arms on his chest. “No.”

“You don’t want your daily dose of my sweet, sweet loving?”

He shakes his head, his lower lip protruding. “Why should I be the one who needs to crawl over to you? This is your fault. You come here.”

You exhale loudly but on the inside, you can’t help but squeal he’s so fucking cute.

You’re not usually aggressive during make-out sessions—well, at least not with Donghyuck anyway. With Mark, you had to take a lead or else you’d just end up watching TV until you both pass out on the couch. But you decide to step up your game today because just as much as he likes to tease you, you also like to tease him.

“Fine,” you say, crawling over to the other side of the couch and settle yourself on his lap. You lay your hand on his shoulders, massaging the tense muscles. “Better?”

Donghyuck is still glowering at you in response so you decide to take a step further. “You look so hot without your clothes on,” you praise him, thanking God that your voice doesn’t stutter. Your fingertips draw a line from his Adam’s apple down to his chest. “But I guess you already know that seeing how many times you’re doing this on purpose.”

He scoffs, swatting your hand away before he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Don’t touch me. I’m still pissed at you.”

You chuckle. “Ah, so no Hyuck’s loving for me tonight?”

“No Hyuck’s loving for the whole week.”

“You sure about that?” Toying with the buttons of your shirt, you wiggle your eyebrows seductively at him.

He hears the sound of your button being popped open but gives his best effort to keep his eyes away. “What are you doing?”

“Undressing myself.”

“Why?”

“Because my cute vampire boyfriend is upset,” you pause to stand on your knees, tugging the rest of your shirt out from your skirt before you discard it to the floor. “And I know this would please him.”

He instinctively turns to you, his nose almost grazing your bare stomach before he quickly looks away again, albeit tempted to suck bruises on the supple skin. Donghyuck’s eyes move to stare at the ceiling, gulping at the sound of you pulling down the zipper on your skirt to loosen the fabric before you push it up to your hips, giving him the chance to stare at your thighs when he wants.

“Hyuck,” you move your hips slightly, giving him enough friction to entice his mind. “Baby.”

Donghyuck tries his very best to avert his gaze to anything else besides the part that connects you to him. “No,” he repeats, clenching his jaw.

“But Hyuck…” You realize you’re practically moaning his name now and it’s both embarrassing and exciting that you can play the role of a seductress and having that kind of effect on him. Hooking a finger around your bra strap, you pull it down, exposing the joints between your neck and your shoulder. “Don’t you want me?”

He suddenly whines loudly, throwing his head back with his teeth gritting against one another as he murmurs “You’re unbelievable,” bitterly into the air but you can hear his confidence wavering. It only takes another grind of your hips against him before he snaps. 

You’re suddenly thrown back to his bed before you know it. He was moving too fast for your eyes to process that you could only felt being carried for a split second before you have your back pressed against the sheets.

He’s hovering on top of you, your hips trapped between his knees. “You do realize,” he begins, “That I never just look at you as an object of sexual desire, right? You’re more than that to me.” He bends down, one hand curling against the front of your neck, his thumb tracing your beating vein. “Way, way more than that.”

His sincerity and serious demeanor catch you off guard. “Yeah, also as someone to fill your midnight cravings.”

“Of course not—”

“I’m kidding, I know.” Your playful gaze is replaced with a tender one. “But you always react like this whenever I tempt you that way so I couldn’t help but tease.”

He scrunches up his nose. “You’re not cute.” But the way he slots his mouth against yours speak nothing but praise and adoration. “You’re not cute at all.”

Surprisingly, Donghyuck is gentler after your first sexual encounter with him. Maybe it’s because he feels sorry for sucking too much blood and went a little rough when it was your first time on everything. You always try to convince him that it’s fine and it doesn’t hurt at all during the time you have sex with him—because the chemicals in his saliva triggered an endorphin rush, pumping pleasure all over your body—but seeing how you could barely walk on the next morning, Donghyuck decides to restrain himself.

You still remember the second time he decided to take a step further, about two weeks after your first intimate session with him. Donghyuck was at his very best behavior that night—making you dinner, listening to you complaining about your work, and swaying his body with you to the soft music he played in the background. Being in such close proximity, you couldn’t help but wonder why he never laid a hand on you again. He did drink from you, once every two days, but he always acted so rigid, so jittery when he held you to his chest, drinking from the side of your neck. You were awkward too, not sure how to place your hands or say something to break the tension. You could hear him swallowing, once, twice, taking a big gulp each time and you could feel yourself drowning in refined pleasure, losing track of the world from his bite.

Speaking of that, you notice one thing. This endorphin rush you feel every time he sinks his teeth into your skin also affects your sexual desire. You didn’t realize that before because you were having sex the first time he bit you. You finally understand why those slutty girls he brought home loved having their blood sucked by vampires. Sex with a vampire itself is transcendent, so having your blood sucked during sex? A dangerous, erotic, and lovely bliss.

But Donghyuck never touched you that way, that was the problem. Every time he finished drinking, he’d retract his fangs back, making you whimper at the loss of his effects on you and leaving you dizzy with blood loss. He’d wipe his mouth clean, tilt your face to check on your condition—which you always responded with a goofy smile as you reeled on the lingering sensation of his bite—and say, “I’m sorry that you had to do this for me. I’ll carry you back to your room. Hold on to me.” And you’d allow him to do just that, secretly hoping that he would join you in bed but he never did. 

Was the sex not good? Were you too loud? Too whiny? Too docile? Were you too shy? Does he prefer his partner to take control in bed? Be more aggressive? These questions ran back-and-forth in your mind to the point that you began to have trouble sleeping.

So when two weeks had passed after that bathroom incident and nothing happened, you decided to bring the matter down to the table. You were craving for his touch, even more so when he looked so fucking good with his hair slightly pushed back, his shirt doing nothing at hiding the muscles in his arms, his face hovering just a few inches away from yours as he led you close in a slow dance. You just needed to ask before you went crazy.

“Why won’t you touch me?”

Donghyuck blinked. “What?”

“Why won’t you touch me?” You repeated, heat rising to your cheeks. “After that night in the bathroom, you never… made a move on me.”

That question should’ve triggered something sinful coming from his mouth, probably like, “Oh, so you want me to touch you? Enlighten me, Sweetheart, just how much do you want me? Where do you exactly want me to touch you?”

But Donghyuck actually just stood in silence with conflicted eyes. You had to call his name to force him to speak. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t hurt me—”

“No, you don’t understand.” He cupped the side of your face, thumb rubbing soothingly against your cheekbone. “Drinking your blood already makes me want to do crazy things to you. You’re so alluring, so…” He wetted his lip, his eyes going down to take in the shape of your mouth. “Intoxicating.” He moved his thumb to trace the smoothness of your lips. “I’m just afraid that I won’t be able to control myself when we take a step further than this. I don’t want to hurt you again like I did the first time.”

It’s funny how he mentioned the word intoxicating because that was how exactly you perceived him. His whole being was intoxicating, turning every sound in the room into a whisper, every bit of your surroundings into a blur. The world did not matter when you were with him, as it solely revolved around him.

So you yanked him down by the collar of his shirt, slotted your mouth against his, lips parting to taste a hint of the coppery flavor of your blood on his tongue. Donghyuck instinctively reacted by enclosing his arms along your waist, pulling you close until you breathed heavily against his mouth. He was a man of passion, burning like the sun, lips scorching as he met yours in a searing kiss.

He tried to break away, holding your wrist in the air. “Wait, stop—”

“I have an idea,” you immediately said, kissing him once again just because you couldn’t hold yourself away from the temptation. “I have an idea we can try, so—” Another kiss, but he was the one who initiated it this time. He pushed you against the wall, gentle but dominating, his knee slipping between your legs, pushing up the fabric of your dress. You moaned against his mouth, fingers fisting against his shirt, desperate for support. He slid both hands down your thighs, silky smooth against your skin, and lifted your legs in the air, forcing you to tangle them around his waist to maintain stability.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, reeling in the way he peppered kisses from your jawline down to your neck, tongue lapping at a speck of dry blood on your marked skin. “Let’s go—ah—let’s go to your room—Hyuck—”

He was busy having his hand under your shirt, splaying his fingers on your stomach before they found their way up to your breast, but he heard your order. He carried you back to his room, lips never leaving yours and you found yourself pressed against the sheet the next time you blinked your eyes. 

“Those handcuffs,” you gasped out between his smothering kisses. “Those handcuffs of yours that you keep in your closet. Use them.”

Donghyuck abruptly stopped, tugged himself away. “What?”

You were breathless and lightheaded, chest heaving up and down. “It upsets me to say this,” you confessed, “But I remember that time when we haven’t started dating, I found a pair of handcuffs in your closet and—”

“You went into my closet?”

“To clean your stuff. You had your clothes scattered all over the place so I had to fold them up and when I was about to put them back in, I saw them. I thought it was probably one of your kinks so I just shrugged it off. You honestly didn’t realize how clean and organized your closet was that day?”

“Well, I was never messy to begin with.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

He pouted, sighing. “Right, so you knew about my bondage kink. You’re telling me you want us to use it?” He gave you a look. “You had sex one time and you’ve already found yourself a kink? Seems like I underestimated your sexual curiosity, woman.”

“It’s not that.” You rolled your eyes. All of this rambling did not fuel your arousal, at all. “I want you to wear it.”

Donghyuck actually looked disgusted. “I like to tie my women, not being tied up, thank you very much.”

“You said you were scared of losing control, right? If you’re tied up, you won’t be able to hurt me.”

He snorted. “A cheap handcuff like that won’t be able to hold me down, Sweetheart.”

“But at least it serves as a reminder.” You laid your hand on his chest, drawing lines on the cold skin. “I mean, I’m fine whether you wear it or not. I just want to be with you.” You pulled him down into an innocent hug, but the way you were grinding your hips against him was anything but that. “But if you feel this,” you palmed his length through his jeans, forcing him to emit a groan from the back of his throat, “can make you lose control then maybe we should try my idea. I don’t want us to stop, Hyuck, and I don’t care if you break me.” You leaned in to bury your face in the juncture of his neck, whispering, “I just want to feel you inside me again.”

“Fuck.” He groaned loudly against your shoulder, fingers twisting against the sheet. “Okay, where’s that fucking handcuff—” The way he tumbled down the bed—a century-old vampire tumbling down the bed—makes you giggle, even more so when he frantically rummages his closet, throwing clothes here and there, muttering, “where is it, where is it, come on, come on, come on, where’s that fucking thing,” to himself, until he finally hooked his fingers around a pair of handcuffs, shouting, “YES, I FOUND THEM,” to the air. 

He hurriedly went back to the bed, looking breathless when he wasn’t even breathing, and crawled on top of you again. He chased after your lips and your laughter soon reduced back into gasps and moans before he finally broke away, asking, “Okay, tie me up. Hurry.” You’d think that being alive for more than a century would’ve taught him some self-control, but Donghyuck was eager and desperate, way more than you were.

He flipped your body before you could prepare yourself so you yelped in surprise, landing on his chest as he laid himself down on the bed, his head nearly knocking against the headboard. He offered you his wrists, saying, “I’m all yours, Sweetheart.” And you gulped hard, heartbeat blasting through the roof, heat rising to your cheeks. 

The handcuffs were made of steel, cold to the touch and you secretly thanked the Lord that they weren’t one of those furry ones you saw in porn movies. You were secretly drooling at the sight of your usually dominating boyfriend lying helplessly on the bed, waiting for you to take the lead; his broad chest displayed under your hands, with you straddling him by the hips. His shirt was slightly pushed up, showcasing his v-lines and his navel that usually stayed hidden underneath. You followed his happy trail, disappointed when it disappeared behind the hem of his jeans.

“Stop being so blatant about it.” His voice was velvety, thick with seduction. “You’re gonna make me blush.”

“I—I wasn’t staring.”

“Never said you were.”

It was annoying how easily he could make you feel all hot and flustered. “S-shouldn’t you take off your shirt first?”

He held back a smile. “I can fuck you just fine with my shirt on but sure, I’ll take it off.” There was something in the way he grabbed the back of his shirt before he pulled it over his head that made you blush, averting your gaze but managed to sneak a peek at the way the muscles on his abs were contracting under the movement.

“Baby?” He snatched you back to reality when a few seconds had passed in silence. “If you don’t tie me up now, I’m gonna tie you up and have my way with you.”

You blushed. That… actually doesn’t sound so bad. You shook your head. That can wait. With shaky fingers, you place one of the handcuffs around his wrist and tied the other one to his headboard. He tried to yank his hand free, testing the strength of it. “I can break this in a split second,” he commented, “But I guess it does work as a reminder.”

“Do you have another pair that I can use to tie your other hand?”

“Leave my other hand free,” he demanded, eyes gleaming as he gazed at you. “I want to touch you.”

You breathed heavily. “O-okay.”

“So,” he smiled, awkward and amused. “We’re doing this?”

You bit your lip, slowly nodding. “W-we’re doing this.”

“Aaw, nervous?” His laughter sounded light in your ears. “How cute.”

“Shut up.”

“Then, come here,” he invited, gesturing you to come close with one hand. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t waste a second longer. 

His kiss was slower this time, almost shy as if it was the first kiss you shared with him and it somehow made your heart beat even faster. You could hear him chuckling against your mouth, probably noticing your heart rate and you slapped his chest playfully to stop him from hearing things he wasn’t supposed to.

“Ah, you’re cute, so cute,” he kept saying, tracing his tongue along your lower lip, begging for entrance. His kisses gradually became deeper, harder, and his muffled laughter was replaced with soft groans. His praise was reduced to your name and you sighed in pleasure when you felt his lips moving down your neck, grazing your beating vein.

The position felt a bit awkward but possibly because you had never done it with him before. You were lying on top of him, your body pressed hotly against his chest and although he was already half-naked, you were still fully clothed. You weren’t sure whether you should undress yourself or let him do the work, but could he do it with one hand?

You remembered the time when he ripped your camisole and bra at the same time with only his fingers.

Yes. Yes, he could.

But Donghyuck seemed to be aware of what you were thinking because he ordered you to, “Take your clothes off.”

“I’m—” Flabbergasted, you pulled away, sitting straight on his stomach. “C-can’t you just take them off for me?”

You could tell he was trying to hold back another smirk from breaking upon his face. “But baby,” he cooed, raising his free hand in the air. “I only have one hand.”

“You practically ripped my undergarments with one finger before.”

“Did I?” His smirk grew prominent. “I forgot.”

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“What, being straddled by my girlfriend as she tries to undress herself while I’m being tied up to the bed?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Meh, it’s not bad.”

“Why you little—”

Donghyuck’s laughter was contagious when you tickled him on the sides of his stomach that you ended up smiling at him too but it soon faltered when he curled his fingers around your locks, bringing your head down to smash his lips against yours until they were red and bruised. You became nervous once again when he tugged on your shirt, silently ordering you to take it off.

“Okay,” you said, sitting on his stomach, fingers trembling slightly as they were fiddling around the top of your dress. “Can you… look away, please?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re making me nervous.”

“Baby,” he tittered, “Just in case you weren’t aware of this. Being your boyfriend means that I’m allowed to enjoy the sight of my girlfriend taking her clothes off.”

“M-maybe later in the future. Can you just look away now?” When he was still adamant about it, you added, “Please?”

He sighed. “Fine, but in the future don’t blame me if I ask you to strip-tease to make up for this.” He closed his eyes, lips pouting. “Also, this is the only time I’ll allow this to happen.”

“Two weeks in our relationship and you’re already ordering me around.”

“It’s not—” He groaned loudly, opening his eyes again to make sure you knew that he was glaring. “It’s not that. I just really want to look. There’s something sexy about girls taking their clothes off.”

“Girls?”

“I mean, you, baby. Only you.”

You gave him a flat look. “Whatever. Close your eyes.”

He jutted out his bottom lip but followed your command, while quietly repeating your line, “Two weeks in our relationship and you’re already ordering me around.”

“I heard that.”

“I heard that,” he mocked and you flicked him on his Adam’s apple until he whined.

Dating a brat was exhausting. Dating a bratty vampire was even more exhausting, but Donghyuck could also be charming and mature when he needed to be so you forgave him for that.

Seeing how he kept his eyes closed, you reached the end of your dress and pulled it off your head in one try. Strands of your hair were caught in the zipper, tugging at your scalp when you tried to unravel them in a hurry. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you gave better effort to disentangled them with more patience.

“Need a hand, Sweetheart?”

You jolted, a squeak fell off your mouth. When you turned around to see him, your boyfriend was staring at you with a bratty grin on his face.

“Hey!” Flushed, you slapped him on the chest. “I didn’t tell you to look.”

“You told me not to look when you took your clothes off. You didn’t say anything about me staring at my cute girlfriend having the biggest crisis of her life.” His little laughter was just as annoying as it was charming. “Come here, I’ll help you.”

Your pride wouldn’t let you but you had spent minutes trying to break free from your stupid dress with no satisfying result so, with a heavy heart and a prominent scowl on your face, you bent down, leaning close to him until he could let his hand roam along your locks.

“This is so stupid,” you grumbled.

“I think it’s cute,” he chuckled, carefully unwinding the strands from your zipper. “This is the cutest you’ve ever been to me.”

You blushed slightly. Trying to avert your attention away, you began to focus on the sight in front of you. Pressed against his chest, your face was almost buried in the crook of his neck. You took the chance to press soft kisses on the cold skin, running your fingertips down from his collarbone to his navel. 

“There, done,” he said, tossing the dress away without a care. He sounded a bit breathily when your teeth grazed against his neck. “Let’s not waste any more time. Come here, I need you.” The way he tugged you toward him by your elbow was firm but not forceful. And no matter how much you had kissed him already, he still loved the way you moved your lips against his and never wanted it to stop.

Being on top of him didn’t necessarily mean you were in control. Even with one hand tied, Donghyuck knew how to lead, whispering guidance here and there, sometimes in the way that made you blush from how specific his orders were. Before you knew it, you were both fully naked, with you sitting on his thighs, stroking at his length as directed.

Donghyuck shivered under your touch, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure. “You—” He had to nip on his bottom lip to contain his groan when you swiped your thumb along his slit. “You don’t happen to have any lube with you, do you?”

You were so captivated by the way he looked, all needy under your fingers, that he had to call you by your name to gather your focus back to his question. “Oh, n-no. Why?” You stroked him faster, curling your fingers a little bit tighter around his length.

Donghyuck threw his head back, eyebrows adjoined in the middle. “Fuck,” he hissed, eyes glazed and when they peered back into yours, they were glowing brightly in topaz—almost golden, and brighter from the dim lighting of his room. “Well then,” he heaved, wetting his lip. “I guess, we’ll do it the old school way. Turn your body around for me.”

“What?”

“I want to be romantic and use pretty words, but desperate times need desperate measures so get your ass over here,” he gestured with his hand for you to come over to his face, “and your face over there.”

Steam practically came out of your ears from how ashamed you were. “What?!”

“I need to make you wet and you need to coat my dick with saliva so it won’t hurt when I get inside you.”

He wasn’t joking when he said he wasn’t going to be romantic about it. How the fuck can he say something like that so easily?! “I—I can’t,” you were practically wheezing, “It’s too embarrassing—I—”

“If you don’t want to suck my dick, you can just spit on your hand and—”

“I’m more worried about sitting on your face—”

“Oh, no need to worry about that.” He gave you a reassuring smile which somehow upsets you even more. “It’s actually something I’ve been imagining to happen—”

“Oh my God—”

“Would you stop freaking-out and listen to me, please?” He was laughing and you were having a seizure. “Babe, relax. Trust me, it will feel good.”

You had no doubts about that but still, it didn’t suddenly make it easy for you to just naturally sit on his face. But to be honest, the thought of it was as exciting as it was embarrassing and with Donghyuck being relaxed about it—not making this into such a big deal, unlike how Mark reacted when anything sexual occurred—you couldn’t help but succumb to your own curiosity.

“Okay,” you pressed a hand against your chest. “Just let me calm myself down a little.”

He suppressed a smile. “You’re having a crisis again?”

“Shut up.”

No matter how much you tried to compose yourself, you couldn’t. You became even more nervous, and you thought that wasn’t possible. The naughty twinkle in Donghyuck’s eyes gradually turned tender and he reached out a hand. “Here, let me help you relax.” 

You let him take hold of your wrist, bringing it to his face. He kissed your inner palm before he dragged his lips down to your wrist, his eyes peering into yours as he did it. You could feel his lips turning into a faint smile as they grazed your skin but on the next second, he bared his teeth, extended his fangs, and punctured your skin with them.

“Hyuck—” You yelped from the pain but soon began to lose yourself to the ecstasy of his bite. You could feel all the knots in your body started to loosen one-by-one, your mind becoming hazy with bliss. 

Donghyuck didn’t sink his teeth too deep and didn’t drink too much, only a gulp and nothing more even when his eyes were glowing bright, gravely needing another taste of your blood. He lapped at the wound, kissing the bite mark he made on your skin. “How do you feel?”

“I’m…” Your eyes began to droop, blinking slowly. “Great…. I feel great…”

He chuckled at your words. “That’s good to hear,” he said, “Now turn around and lower yourself on my face.”

You could barely hear him but you got the picture. As if hypnotized, you felt your body moved even before you could finish your thought. Donghyuck’s free hand was placed on the inner part of your thigh as you hovered above his head, spreading your legs apart. “Come down here, Sweetheart, I don’t bite.” You couldn’t see his face but you could tell he was smirking, and if you weren’t this intoxicated, you would’ve smacked him with the nearest pillow over his poor choice of words. But the effects of his bite and the rush of endorphin that were still coursing through your veins made you follow his commands without further question.

You were balancing yourself with your hands on his stomach as he ran his tongue along your folds, tasting you just a little bit but you already shivered at the sensation. “Hyuck…”

He hummed in response, sounding like he was having the time of his life, pushing your thigh further apart so you could lower yourself more, his tongue dipping into your heat this time.

You were going insane, you could feel it. Breathing heavily, you decided to focus on a task at hand. You curled your fingers around his length, thumb brushing against the slit again because you knew how much he liked it before, and you could feel him moan before you could hear him.

You gave a tentative lick on the head, kissing his tip before running your tongue along the vein. Your fingers were stroking the area your tongue didn’t cover and you could hear him purring in content. After a brief second of self-preparation, you parted your lips and tried to go down on him in one try. Donghyuck threw his head back against the sheet, groaning loudly between a train of expletives, so sexy and obscene. 

Hearing his moans encouraged you to do better so you tried to swallow him whole again. You could feel his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you tear up a little bit from the discomfort but you hollowed your cheeks and swallowed around him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Donghyuck swore, his grip around your thigh grew tighter that it made you flinch but you continued with your ministration, bringing your hand into the game this time. It was so exciting, the sensation of having him dissolve into a groaning mess under your touch so you stroked him faster, sucked him harder, and continued even when he was practically whimpering in ecstasy.

As an act of revenge, Donghyuck licked his way deep into you with his free hand pumping a finger inside you and adding another one soon after. When you moaned around him, it urged him to go faster, his digits were now scissoring inside of you.

You were practically crying by the time he told you to stop, urging you to turn around to face him because “I want to see your face when you come.” You positioned yourself on top of his length, cheeks bright red from all the passion and lust you have swirling inside your chest, and slowly sank yourself down.

Donghyuck’s handcuff was rattling against the headboard as he reeled in the sensation. His fangs were extended once again, his eyes glowing almost dangerously as he gazed at you from behind his bangs. “Fuck, you’re so—“ he hissed, his eyes going down to the part where you were connected to him. “How can you be so sexy without trying—”

The way he twitched inside of you made you quiver, and you tumbled down to his chest, your face closing in on him. He met you halfway when you sent him a signal to kiss you, smothering you with his lips, wet with tongues and painted with both desperation and urgency.

“Move,” he ordered, his voice suddenly turning low and perilous. “Baby, move for me, please.”

You granted his wish, wincing at the feeling of him growing larger inside you. The friction still burned so you tried to muffle your cry with his kisses, but after a few shallow thrusts, you could finally feel yourself relaxing, adjusting to his length.

“Faster,” he urged, unconsciously tried to hold your hips with both hands and groaned loudly when his handcuff pulled his hand back to the headboard. “Dammit. Baby, please, move faster.”

“Be patient,” you said between small gasps. Your nails were almost sinking to his chest. “It’s only my second time, Hyuck. Let me do it at my own pace.”

He initially groaned in protest, eyes tightly shut with his eyebrows furrowed but when he managed to collect himself, he apologized, "You're right, I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so hasty, you just make me feel so—" His jaw hung low when he felt you move, and by the time you began to clench your walls around him, he took his bottom lip between his teeth, leaning his head back against the headboard, relishing the moment.

As you steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, grinding your hips against him, you admired the details of his profile—his sultry half-lidded eyes, his plump lips, his cute front teeth that peeked out when he parted his lips in a silent moan, the tiny moles on his jaw and neck. He was both handsome and cute, and you were lucky—so damn lucky—to be able to witness these details with your own eyes.

“Fuck, I can’t—“ His voice startled you, snapping you out from your reverie. “I can’t do it like this. I’m gonna go crazy. Can you get off for a second?”

You were frowning but his urgency made you follow with a nod. You let him slid off of you, wincing slightly at both the pain and the loss of him. Donghyuck shifted his body until he was sitting on the bed, his spine pressed against the headboard. “Okay, come here,” he said, patting his thigh twice. You crawled over to his lap as requested, sitting on your knees as he held his length in one hand, positioning it over your entrance. You lowered yourself down, adjusting to his size once again and wrapping your arms around his neck for support.

“I can never get used to the feeling of you taking me in like that,” he murmured against your ear. “You’re so fucking tight.”

The new position allowed you to embrace him properly and you took advantage of it, meshing your lips with him as you bounced up and down, your breasts pressing against his chest. His free hand was urging you to move faster, nails sinking into the skin and you complied, trying to move as fast you can. “Yes,” he moaned, mouthing against your shoulder. “Just like that. You’re so good.”

The sounds he was making were so erotic that they made you weak. When he felt your movements gradually became slower, he began to buck his hips forward, thrusting into you hard while holding you firmly with one hand. 

He nearly broke his handcuff from how desperate he was in wanting to hold you tightly with both hands, fucking you senselessly like how did with you before in the bathroom. But the way the steel was nearly sinking into his skin reminded him of the sole purpose of having it around his wrist. Feeling restrained only made his thrusts grow even more frantic, pushing your hips down to meet his at such a quick pace.

“Wait—” Taken by surprise, you clutched your arms tightly around him. “Hyuck—”

He suddenly sank his teeth on the skin under your jaw, between the earlobe and the collarbone and you nearly jumped out of your skin. For half an instant, it was agonizing. Painful and horrible. And then, just like that, the pain disappeared. He swallowed twice, moaning against your skin, his thrusts going out of rhythm. 

The rush of endorphin helped to push you to the brink, clouding your thoughts and you couldn't tell where your body ended and his began but it didn't matter. That was how you always wanted it to be anyway. Donghyuck's lascivious grunts tugged on your heartstrings and with a couple of his hard thrusts, you began to shake. "H-Hyuck, I think I'm gonna—"

His mouth was still on your neck, now sucking bruises with his cuspids threatening to puncture. "Come, baby."

You came undone, body trembling with the biggest orgasm you’d ever felt. Donghyuck moaned your name against your ear when he felt you clenching and shaking around him. “God, that felt so good,” he said, still moving his hips, not caring if you were still sensitive after your orgasm. “You feel so good around me. Fuck, I want to do this again and again—I want to feel you more—I want to break you—”

And when his hips began to stutter, you knew he was close. He pulled you into a messy kiss where you could taste copper on his tongue but you didn’t mind and bounced faster on his lap, driving him to the edge.

You were startled by the sound of him breaking free from his handcuff with a hard yank of his wrist, but before you could react, he was pushing you off his lap, forcing you to stand with your knees on the bed, facing the headboard. Still reveling in the aftershock of your orgasm, your legs almost gave out on you so you placed both hands on the wall for support. "Hyuck—"

He was almost growling when he placed both hands on your hips and pushed himself back in a way that was so forceful, you ended up having your upper body pressed against the wall. He brought your hips closer to his, his tongue trailed against the dip of your spine, and you begged him to, "S-slow down, I just came—" but all that he did was the opposite. He snapped his hips forward, knocking the breath out of your lungs with each pound while murmuring, "Just a little bit more, baby," with so much lust and avidity. You gritted your teeth, curling your fingers against the railing of your headboard as if you were hanging on for dear life. Everything felt so good, so fucking good that you began to part your mouth in a silent scream. 

With his head dangling forward, glowing eyes covered with his fringe, and your name tumbling down his lips in a soft, throaty moan, he came.

***

“How are you feeling?”

Dazed and completely fucked-out, you thought, but only answered with, “Tired.”

“Are you hurt somewhere?”

You shook your head.

“Thank God,” Donghyuck pulled you closer by the waist, both of your naked bodies were buried under the blanket. “I kind of lost control at the end.” He sheepishly chuckled at himself. “You were so hot when you came.”

“Shut up.” But that only made him laugh a bit louder. He pried your hands away before you could bury your face in them and cupped your cheek so you could do nothing but stare back at him.

“Is it too fast to say I love you?” He asked and his eyes were sincere but you were too embarrassed to respond properly so you pushed your palm to his face, pushing him away.

“Of course, it’s too fast. We’ve only started dating for like what, two weeks?” But the way your heart almost leaped in joy betrayed you. You turned away from him, focusing your gaze on the bed lamp on his nightstand instead of his face. “If you tell me in like a year or something, maybe I’ll believe you.”

His laughter was warm, a stark contrast to how his skin felt under your touch. He leaned close, lips brushing against your hair as he embraced you close to his chest. “Then I’ll say it every day until you say it back to me next year,” he said, voice gentle and sincere. “I love you, baby.”

“Ugh, you’re gross.”

“There you go, playing hard to get again.” He whispered the next words with his lips brushing your earlobe. “Your ears are going red, though.”

“I’m going to kick you.”

“Well, I’m going to love you.”

But you kicked him anyway. The playful punches and kicks under the blanket managed to ease the tension, and before long, you were back to exchanging nonsensical banters with him again. The sunrise was still three hours away and even though your eyes were a bit heavy with sleep, your body exhausted beyond belief, you tried to keep yourself awake to spend a moment longer with him. You didn’t have any schedule the next morning anyway, so you could sleep to make up for the time you spent.

“Hyuck?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s… something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while but I couldn’t since I felt so embarrassed about it.”

“Oh? It’s not often you’re honest like this.” He smirked, pushing the bangs out of your eyes. “What is it?”

“Did you…” You cleared your throat, trying not to be awkward. “Did you get to come when we had sex the first time?”

He blinked twice, startled. “Oh… I didn’t, actually.” He timidly smiled. “You kind of passed out during that time and I didn’t have the heart to continue so I just carried you back to your room.”

With cheeks turning scarlet, you squeezing his hand. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He pecked you on the nose. “It was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have taken so much of your blood.” He gradually grew more serious. “I guess I’ve never thanked you for that, huh?” He tucked some strands of your hair behind your ear. “Thank you for giving me your blood. You’re literally the reason why I’m still alive to this day.”

“You’re welcome.” You mirrored his smile. “I have two other questions if you don’t mind.”

“Shoot.”

“Can vampires actually come?” You had to look away, noticing how stupid your questions was and added, “I mean, like, properly? Like humans do?”

“What, you didn’t feel it when I came inside you just now?”

You blushed madly. “I was too dizzy from the bite to notice.”

“Right, you passed out too. Again.” And before you could shout out your protest, he muffled your lips with his. “Of course, we can, Sweetheart. What, are you interested in making me come again?”

You gulped. “M-maybe later.” When you noticed him raising an eyebrow, you mentally slap yourself in the face.” I-I mean, not that I’m suggesting we should have sex again after this—”

“Oh? I was willing, though.” His godforsaken smirk should be banned from this world. Earning another punch to his stomach, he asked with a wince, “What’s the other question?”

You were still pouting from before but you asked, “Can vampires impregnate humans?”

“So eager to have my baby already? Two weeks in our relationship? Really?”

“Do you want to be punched again?”

“By your lips? Yes, plea—Aaw, hey, that hurts!” As he tried to soothe the pain away from the punch you landed on his chest, he added, “To answer your question, no. We don’t breed that way. Vampires are turned, not born.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He laughed. “Trust me, if vampires could get humans pregnant, then I would father hundreds of Hyuck babies by now.”

The thought of him having sexual relationships with other women in a way that was probably much hotter than yours made your heart drop to your stomach. There was an unfamiliar pain in your chest, pumping jealousy and resentment to your veins, clouding your thoughts with images of him lying in bed with naked women.

You turned away to face the ceiling, not saying a word. Donghyuck seemed to notice the way you got all tense and rigid so he laced your fingers with his, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “There’s only you now, you know that, right? For me, there’s only you.”

 You nodded but only so slightly, still felt uneasy. You knew that it wouldn’t be fair to be mad at him about this—it’s not like he was cheating behind your back. And he’d lived for more than a century, of course, he had plenty of both romantic and sexual relationships. You were just upset because he was your first and that meant the whole world to you, but you weren’t even included in the top 10—or 100, even.

Donghyuck eyed you in concern and carefully wrapped an arm around your stomach, fingertips trailing around your navel. “Did you realize that,” he began, voice soft and tender, “a few months before we started dating, I stopped bringing girls to our apartment? I switched entirely to blood bags to the point I had to spend all my money. Do you know why I did that?”

You turned to him, snuggling close but still wasn’t brave enough to make eye contact. “Why?”

He had his lips brushed against your temple as he spoke. “Because it felt wrong. Every time I got together with someone, I thought about you. When I drank their blood, I thought about how your blood would taste like in my mouth. When I held them, I thought about what kind of face would you make as you writhed underneath me. When they moaned out my name, I thought about how hot would it be if it tumbled out from your lips instead. You, with that cute voice of yours.”

You blushed from ear-to-ear. “I-Is that so…”

He smiled a little, probably noticing how loudly your heart was thumping inside your chest. “I had to stop entirely when I accidentally moaned your name during sex. Man, she was so pissed.”

You nearly fainted from the sheer embarrassment. “How can you say these things so nonchalantly?”

“I’m actually pretty shy about it.” And this time he did sound sheepish. He lowered his head down, lips lingering close, nearly grazing the vein that beats faintly under your neck. “So don’t think about my past too much, because I’ve been thinking about you—only you—for a while now.”

You shivered, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Cool.”

Donghyuck pulled away, scrunched up his nose. “Cool?”

“Yeah.”

“I literally just poured all my feelings out to you, embarrassingly so, and your response is cool?”

You gave him your signature ignorant shrug. “Well, I’ve known for a while that you had a crush on me. I’m flattered. Thanks.”

“You’re so—” He attacked you with playful pokes and tickles, hands fumbling all over the place until you both ended up falling from the bed, laughing against each other’s mouth.

***

“Babe, you ready?”

You push your door open at the sound of his call, still struggling with tidying your bangs so they can frame your face perfectly. You’re about to go on a date with your boyfriend and this is the first time he actually asks you out properly. You’ve gone out many times with him before but it was always either to shop for groceries or have dinner in the cheap Chinese restaurant nearby.

So you kind of dressed up all the way, curling your hair and tying it up in a perfect ponytail—because you know just how much he likes seeing your neck exposed—wearing minimal make-up but with bright red lipstick, and a matching red off-shoulder dress that highlights your collarbones. 

“Do you think this is too much?” You ask from the bathroom, still busy trying to put on your earring. When you’re done, you walk back to the living room, approaching his spot. “You haven’t told me where we’re going so I’m not sure what to wear—” You catch the way he’s looking at you, wide-eyed with lips parted in awe. “W-what is it? Are you thirsty again?”

He blinks himself awake. “For blood? Nope. For you?” He’s not subtle at all with his staring, eyes going up and down your body, committing every feature to his memory. “Parched.”

“If you’re gonna be this embarrassing the whole date, I’d choose to stay home, thank you very much.”

“What, can’t a man appreciate his girlfriend’s beauty?”

“Sometimes just a simple, you look nice, is enough.”

He chuckles softly, closing the space between you and running his thumb along your cheekbone as he cups your face. “I want to kiss you and ruin your lipstick so badly,” he murmurs, eyes almost glowing. The way he brings his lower lip between his teeth as he stares at you in a daze makes your stomach flip in delight. “But you look very beautiful right now and it would be a waste. I’ll wait until the end of our date. Then, I’ll savor every bit of you.” He leans in to whisper close in your ear, his smirk grazing against your earlobe. “In any way possible.”

You yank him by the hand, pulling him towards the door. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”

You can’t wait until your date is over.

***

Donghyuck reeks with charms and allures. You notice that, certainly, but unfortunately for you, so do other people because he is gathering attention from every woman he passes by on the street—even some men. He’s just walking along the pavements in his black ripped jeans and denim jacket, but he makes it look like a fashion show. He’s deep in concentration, thumb sliding on his phone’s screen as he searches for the location of the place he’s planning to take you. His brooding look makes you swoon but you try to be subtle about it, unlike those females who pass by, practically undressing him with their eyes.

You’re uncomfortable and jealous but you try to keep yourself composed. “Is it far from here?”

“Just a couple of blocks,” he answers, smiling as he tucks his phone back. “Are you hungry? Do you want to stop by and grab some dinner before we go?”

You’ve lost your appetite. “I’ll eat on our way back.”

“You sure?”

You respond with a nod but he seems worried. You notice some people whispering behind your back, questioning with a mocking tone about your status with this God-like male in front of you and you couldn’t help but to sigh. “Can we go now?” Your tone sounds a bit cold even to your own ears, and you feel sorry because this is not how you planned your date night to go.

Donghyuck must have noticed the silent chatters, or at least, the hurting look on your face. Taking a hold of your wrist, he pulls you forward until you stumble to his chest and kisses your lips. You swear you could hear people gasping at that, but you don’t care. You don’t care that he’s kissing you in public, on the side of the street, with his hand secured tightly around your waist. You don’t care if your lipstick is ruined, though he kisses you softly to make sure it stays intact. And you don’t care if people are questioning his sanity for dating a girl like you because Donghyuck belongs to you and he’s proud of showing that to the world.

When he lets you go, your lips are curving up into a grin, cheeks reddening both from the cold and his touch. “You have lipstick on you,” you say, tiptoeing on your feet to brush the stain off his lips with your thumb, and Donghyuck, with that sexy, mischievous twinkle in his eyes, parts his lips, playfully placing your thumb between his teeth just a second before he lets it slide away. Your head is about to explode from how sexy he just looked and he chuckles at the sight, pecking you on the forehead once. “Let’s go, baby.” He strokes your hair before he lets his hand slide down to your waist again, walking next to you with your body pressed close to his side.

It turns out your boyfriend is taking you to a photo studio which is quite huge for a normal photo shoot. As you see so many staff, models, and photographers around you, walking back-and-forth in the studio to make sure everything is in order, you begin to realize. “Are you—”

“Yep,” he beams at you, proudly. “I’ve got a modeling gig.” 

Your eyes grow wide because by the brand logo that you see plastered all over the place—on the back of the chairs, the doors, embossed in articles of clothing—it’s one of the top designer brands in the country. “What—how—” You’re flabbergasted. “How did you get this job?”

“I got cast on the street.” He simply shrugs. “It’s a one-time gig though, so nothing serious. But it is my first time so I’m pretty nervous about it, which is why I brought you along.” He swats the bangs out of your eyes, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry. This is probably not how you imagined our date night was going to be.”

“No, but this is better.” Your eyes are scanning the place. “Look at all these models! They’re so beautiful—Oh my God, I know him!” You almost jump on your feet at the sight of a famous model getting his hair fixed by his stylist. “Isn’t he the one who was on the cover of W Magazine last month? Oh my God.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Donghyuck pulls you back by the fabric of your dress. “I didn’t invite you to ogle at another man’s body.”

“It’s not his body, Hyuck. It’s his face, look at him!” You gesture toward the man with a sigh. “Look at those cheekbones, sweet Lord. His jawline has me feeling like sliced bread.”

Donghyuck snorts loudly. “Are you an idiot?”

“Might as well be. Can you get me his autograph?”

“I’m leaving.” And he really walks away, just like that, with his hands tucked inside the pocket of his jeans, and a scowl on his face.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” you hurriedly say, taking a hold of his arm. “Good luck with the photo shoot. I know you’d be amazing.”

He’s still not happy when he looks at you but he sighs, patting your head. “Thanks. You can wait for me in the hall. I think they have snacks and stuff.”

“Can’t I just linger around here?”

“To see me or to see him?”

“To see you, of course.” There’s no hesitation in your voice. “Seeing him is just a bonus. You’re my number one, Hyuck.”

He leers at you with suspicious eyes, still not one hundred percent pleased or convinced. “Well, I have to go. I need to change and get my make-up done.”

“Wait.” you hold him back again. “Do these people here know you’re, you know, not human?”

“No, and I intend to keep it that way. So, if you could just not mention it again, that’d help.”

You nod but when he’s about to part ways again, you reach out to him once more. 

“What?” He whines, groaning. “I really have to—”

You stand on your toes and interrupt him with a kiss, hands winding around his neck. It’s just your lips meeting his for a few seconds and nothing more, but it’s still painted thickly with passion and desire.

“Good luck,” you whisper with a shy smile. He’s left a bit dazed but eventually nods his head. When he walks away, he rubs his nape, a gesture he tends to make whenever he’s flustered. You grin proudly to yourself. He’s wrapped around your fingers just as much as you are around his.

After half an hour has passed, you see Donghyuck walking back into the studio in a new outfit that makes him look so goddamn attractive that it literally steals your breath away.  He’s wearing all black, from his turtle neck shirt, his khaki pants, his suit, even his hair looks somehow darker. He’s absolutely gorgeous, even the male photographer has to stop and stare for a good few seconds before he remembers to adjust his lenses.

Donghyuck poses naturally in front of the camera and it startles you how a simple pose could look so beautiful when it’s done by him. He unbuttons his suit, lets it falls off his shoulder, his eyes half-lidded as he stares into the camera—everything that he does reeks masculinity and femininity at the same time and you don’t know if that’s even possible. You’ve known that his body proportions are insane but this outfit just highlights every inch of his body that needs to be appreciated. 

A staff hands him a rose and he brings it close to his face, his lips grazing against the petal—making him look like a painting. His usual cheeky grin has vanished without a trace and the way he stares back at the camera—both enchanting and challenging—sends shivers down your spine.

Fuck, how is he so hot?

Two hours long photoshoot feels like a minute to you and you’re feeling a bit dazed when it’s over. Donghyuck walks over to your spot, pushing up his long sleeves to his elbows. “Hey,” he says, smiling a little. “Sorry, did I make you wait long?”

“Oh… Umm…” You’re blushing and you don’t know why. You’re just suddenly overwhelmed with his presence. “Y-you were…” Fantastic. Breathtaking. Absolutely gorgeous. Please take me home and have me as dessert. “You were good.”

“Good?” He raises an eyebrow, making you gulp. “That’s it?”

“I…” Your fingers are curling against the fabric of your dress. “You were great.”

Donghyuck seems a bit amused until he realizes something. He leans close, making you flinch when he takes a sniff near your neck. “Why do you smell like you’re…” A smirk creeps up his face. “Aroused?”

Yes, okay, just kill me. Kill me now. “I’m not—”

“Seems like someone is enjoying this photoshoot too much.”

You’re about to combust into flames. “Are you done? Can we go home now?”

“You want to go home? And do what?” He bites the corner of his lip as he tries to contain his grin. “Enlighten me, Baby.”

He’s seducing you, torturing you, and he’s enjoying every second of it. “Fine, then. I’ll walk home by myself.”

But as you turn around on your heels, Donghyuck grabs you by the wrist and pulls you forward to match his step, going in the opposite direction of where you were planning to go. “Wha—where are you taking me?!”

He shushes you quickly and makes a turn, barging into one of the changing rooms that models often use to get prepared for the photoshoot. The room is bright with fluorescent lights, though not as spacious as you’d thought it would be, but the only thing that matters now is that it’s unoccupied. 

Donghyuck kicks the door closed with his feet before he pushes you against it, lips meeting you in a searing kiss as he locks the door behind you. “Your scent,” he breathlessly says against your mouth, running his tongue along your lower lip. “It’s so thick with lust.” If it’s as thick as the teasing tone in his voice, you’re so doomed. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Shut up.” You kiss him, fisting the fabric of his shirt before you pull it off his head. Your hands immediately go down to his chest, caressing his stomach before they circle his neck again. “If we’re gonna do this then hurry up and fuck me.”

A small laugh reverberates from his chest. “So aggressive. And to think you were so shy yesterday.”

“Shut up. Does sex usually involve this much talking?”

“With me, it does.” He purrs against your ear, tugging your earlobe between his teeth. “Because then I get to see more of your expressions.” His tongue feels hot and dangerous on your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking cute when you blush, but you being aggressive like this isn’t too bad.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” You’re already dying from shame and his unnecessary comments only fuel it even more. “Are we really—” you gasp when he pushes you up the wall, and you quickly tangle your legs around his waist for balance, the back of your red heels pressing against his spine. “Are we really doing this? Here?”

“Of course, we’re doing this.” His hands are sliding dangerously along your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up your body until it pools around your waist. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since you laid your eyes on him.”

“What—” You throw your head back, making a soft thud when it meets the door. Hopefully, no one catches that. “You mean that model? I was just kidding—”

“Kidding?” He slips two of his fingers inside his mouth, coating them with saliva and it’s so sensual, the sight of him, that only seeing him do that already makes you feel sinful. He slides his hand down between your legs, wet fingers immediately finding their way to your heat from the side of your lingerie. “I don’t think it was funny.” He inserts his first digit, making you sink your nails into his shoulders. “Do you, baby?”

You’re breathing hard, temple pressing against his. When he feels you stretched enough, he adds another one. “Baby, I asked you a question,” he chuckles, scissoring his fingers inside you. “Do you think it was funny?”

“No.” You shake your head, a sob nearly escapes your lips.  The mixed feelings of being dominated, teased and pleasured at the same time make you feel lightheaded, and he hasn’t even drunk from you yet. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Aaw, but I’m not mad,” he coos, kissing you softly on the corner of your lips. “I’m a bit pissed-off but certainly not angry.”

His words are doing very little in reassuring you but you’re too busy focusing on the way he’s pumping his fingers in and out, his thumb rubbing fervently against your clit. “Hyuck—”

“Sssh.” He perks up, his movements stop abruptly. “Someone’s here.”

You mouth What?! in horror, about to shove him away so you can land back on your feet and fix your clothes and hair but he keeps you still. He presses his body harder, one hand holding the back of your thigh while his other one still lingers near your lingerie. There’s absolutely no way you can fight his superhuman strength.

Within the next few seconds, you can hear the clicking of heels meeting the marbled floor and you hold your breath, fingers shaking but the rest of your body is still. Donghyuck keeps his gaze on you, his eyes unwavering as he tries to read the situation.

“Hey, it’s locked. Why is it locked?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t locked before.”

Two female voices can be heard from exactly behind you and you’re about to break out in a cold sweat. If you breathe just a little bit harder, they probably can hear you. Donghyuck notices the way your breathing tatters and with a gleam in his eyes, he smirks.

And moves his fingers again.

Your hand immediately shifts from his shoulder to his wrist, trying desperately to keep it from moving. Your eyes are throwing ice daggers as you mouth don’t you fucking dare to him but his sly grin only gets wider. He leans in to pepper sultry kisses on your jawline, up to your ear, whispering, “Keep your voice down.” And though he speaks reassurance, his fingers are not.

He slides one between your folds, tentatively pressing into your heat before he drags it back, heel continues to add pressure to your clit. It’s when he inserts the digit back into you that you begin to flinch. He helps muffle your voice down with his kisses first but when you truly need to be silenced, he pulls away, enjoying the view of your cheeks turning scarlet, bangs sticking to your temple with sweat, and adding another finger into your warmth.

“So cute,” he whispers, his eyes are starting to glow. You notice that their color changes depending on what he’s feeling.  They glow when he’s thirsty, that much is obvious, but there’s also one other condition. The more he’s aroused, the brighter they get, almost turning topaz entirely, and soon his cuspids will follow, extending to take a bite. He still has his fangs retracted, but his eyes are gradually gleaming brighter as he takes in your expressions. “So pretty…” The way he praises you is almost like he’s in a haze. “I love seeing you like this.”

“What to do? My purse is inside.”

“Shall we ask around for the key?”

You’re so scared, terrified beyond belief and Donghyuck is savoring every moment of you trying to contain your moans. “Aaw, they’re going to open the door,” he murmurs against your ear. “What do you think we should do, baby?”

Fuck if I know. Your eyes are closed shut, your fingers curling against his nape. He licks a stripe up your neck, moaning softly from the desire to fill his mouth with your blood. “I know one thing for sure,” he swallows, wetting his lip. “I need to make you come first.”

Donghyuck always lives up to his promise. He knows what he’s doing and it feels extremely pleasant having his fingers deep inside you but you can’t give yourself into the pleasure entirely from the fear of being caught. But as he goes faster, now focusing more on playing with your clit, you feel fire coursing through your veins, loosening the knot in your stomach, and out of panic, you bite him hard on the part where his neck meets his shoulder, muffling your moan as you come onto his hand.

You can feel him flinching, a low grunt erupting from the back of his throat but you’re too dazed to notice. When the aftertaste of your orgasm starts to decrease, Donghyuck lets you down to the floor. You have to keep your hold on him as your legs wobble under your weight and when you look up, you see him with his fangs fully extended, his eyes glowing as bright as the sun.

“Hyuck—“ He bites into your skin without permission, and he does it fiercely, sloppily, that your blood begins to taint your dress. You’re grateful that it’s at least in the same color as your blood so a few drops won’t be noticed. The rush of endorphin calms your nerves, almost leaving your senses dull and you slide down to the floor, your spine still pressed against the door.

When he pulls away, he lets his tongue runs along his lower lip, wiping it clean from your blood. His eyes are strictly golden.

“My turn now.”

***