#because it is purely for fun and to satisfy *fantasy*

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Random Headcanons About Michelangelo (18+)

Rise!Michelangelo x reader

A/N: Decided to crack on and write the last ROTTMNT Random Headcanons About (18+), because why the hell not. They’re fun😂🧡

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Mentioning of masturbation, fantasizing, sexual and romantic relations.

Does Mikey walk around and think about sex all the time? Yes and no. Mikey is a daydreamer, and it does happen that he can find himself disappear into a daydream and forget the world around him. Hallelujah, ADHD. And when that happened, he would sometimes find himself fantasizing about sex. He would kind of zone out, staring into nothing, imagining how it would feel to be in a very well detailed scenario, in which he had another person’s body closely against his, both seeking the high peaks of pleasure. But for a long time, that was all it was - a fantasy. Imagination about no one specific. Just the act of sex itself.

And for a time, that was all Mikey needed. Though he sometimes earned for a real relationship of sorts, where he could find himself close with someone else, either physically or emotionally, he didn’t need much more than his own thoughts and at times his own hand. And for a time, that was enough to satisfy Mikey’s thoughts and urges.

But that was until Mikey struck up a friendship with you, learning just how happy and carefree you were. You were a pure bundle of energy, bouncing around like a bouncy ball of sunshine.

With you Mikey felt like he could be the purest form of himself. No mask, whatsoever, letting his sudden and random thoughts flow with ease, and you would not judge him for it. Instead you would engage it, even let your own sudden thoughts and ideas run freely. It was like you were made for each other.

That was when Mikey’s small zone out daydreams and late night imaginary scenarios started to have a face to it. Yours.

Soon Mikey found that neither his thoughts or his hands was enough to satisfy him, when he started to dive deeper into his small erotic fantasies about you.

When your friendship finally went from platonic to romantic, the two of you didn’t wait long before getting intimate.

Both you and Mikey had very high sex drives, which led to a very busy sex life. It was rare for the two of you to go more than a few days, without having your hands all over each other. But just because it was rare, it didn’t mean that it never happened. There were times where you and Mikey weren't able to get together for night, either because of work or family plans. But then, as soon as the two of you finally had your time together, you would almost jump on each other in less than a few seconds.

You and Mikey liked to try out different things together. If you did the same thing for too long, you would often find yourself getting bored, so therefore you would have to change things up from time to time, such as positions, toys, locations, and all that fun jazz.

Mikey just hoped that none of his brothers would find some of the things you two used, nothing that they would straight away get the wrong impression, or find a way to tease him or ask strange questions.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

It’s Cold Out (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Roomies to Lovers Warnings: curvy/chubby reader · swearing · pet names · possessiveness · possibly inaccurate descriptions of birth control (this is a work of fiction, after all) · good ol’ rut driven intercourse (smut warnings under the cut). Word Count: ~8k | AO3 Summary: Your roommate had been acting weird lately, weirder than usual. It was because of his condition, you thought, and in a way, you had been right, just not in the way you had expected. [This story is an instalment of my WereRoomies series].

Author’s note: Happy Halloween month to all of us! If there’s a God up there, only she can judge me for this. [31/03/23: this story has been re-edited as of this date. special thanks to @straylightdream​​ for reading this new edition before anyone else and sharing her thoughts with me].

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments:  It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

Smut Warnings: intercrural sex · unprotected penetration [piv] · oral [F.Rec] · lots of praising (LOTS) · breeding kink (kind of) · copious amount of fluids · knotting

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

To say Chris had been acting weird this week would be an understatement.

You were sure it all started over the weekend, since you noticed his odd behaviour that Friday night when you were about to leave your shared flat to go hang out with one of your friends. Chris had come out of his room to get something from the kitchen, and he had stopped in his tracks as soon as he saw you there applying your makeup by the bureau in the entrance.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t caught him looking at you before, you were pretty confident that he’d often look at you–whether it was for instinctual reasons or what you weren’t really sure–but he genuinely looked like a deer in the headlights while he stood there completely paralysed. The worst part was that you weren’t wearing anything particularly revealing, just a crop top–that wasn’t even that short, it barely even exposed your belly–and some leggings.

“You okay there?” You asked Chris as you returned your eyes to the mirror, adding the finishing touches to your makeup.

“Uhh… Are you… Are you going out?” You didn’t look back at him while he talked to you, deciding that, since he was being awkward, it would be easier for him to speak without you looking at him.

“Yeah, babes. I’ve been talking about it all week, remember?” Dropping the eyeliner pen back on your makeup bag you looked at yourself one last time. ‘This will do’ was all you could think, satisfied with your face as you turned to look at your roommate. 

Chris wasn’t there anymore, but he emerged from his room seconds after with one of his black hoodies in hand. “Take this, pretty. It’s cold out”, pet names were a constant in the household, even among Chris’ friends, so you never thought much of it whenever he said them to you, or whenever you said them to him.

You chuckled, oddly amused by the sudden request. “I already have a jacket, Chris. But thank you”.

“No, no. You need to take it. Seriously”, Chris moved, getting into your space, going as far as to try to put the garment over your head.

“Woa, Chris–” You tried to push him away, but he ignored your protests.

“It won’t be any good if you catch a cold!”

“Chris!” You took a hold of the garment and jumped back away from him, keeping the hoodie in your hands.

Chris whined your name, he really whined. “Please, just… Take it. And wear it…”

He looked genuinely concerned, and it made you sigh immediately. You examined the item in your hands for a second, it was one of his oversized hoodies–oversized even on him. As you looked between the garment in your hands and Chris’ worried face, you couldn’t help but sigh. It was always hard for you to not give in to your roommate’s requests. “Fine, fine. I’ll take it, jeez”.

A bright smile settled on his lips as he watched you put on the hoodie, his eyes disappeared into crescents and his dimples were now on full display. The sight almost made you scream, he was just too damn cute and you felt your heart thump a bit faster against your ribcage as soon as your eyes landed on his form. 

“Happy now?” You huffed out, dragging your hands down your front, trying to help the fabric settle over your body. The thing was huge, the hem reached the middle of your thighs, and the sleeves pooled around your limbs, effectively engulfing your frame.

“Very”, Chris moved back into your space, bringing his hands up to fiddle with the hood of the hoodie, almost like he was trying to put it around your neck as a makeshift scarf. “Need a lift?” Satisfied with the position of the hood, his hands moved to your shoulders, dragging them over the fabric like he was trying to iron creases out.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine”.

Chris’ gaze moved to look you in the eyes. The movement of his hands on your shoulders stopped, but he didn’t remove them.

Ever since you met him around a year ago, there had always been something about Chris’ eyes that made you feel oddly giddy. It was almost as if his gaze was trying to intimidate you. Your brain always urged you to look away whenever you looked him in the eyes for too long–which was silly, considering Chris was one of the most welcoming, caring people you’d ever met.

You never gave into that fight or flight instinct. On the contrary, subconsciously–and sometimes, even consciously, you’d admit–you made it a point to keep staring right back at him, almost like you were challenging him. Which was probably very stupid on your part, since you knew really well who he was–what he was.

Clearing your throat, you mustered the most confident tone you could to speak. “I have to… Have to go now”.

Chris blinked slightly, as if your voice had brought him back from a place deep within his thoughts. “Right…” 

His hands moved from your shoulders to cradle your face, and he took one step closer to press a kiss on your forehead. Chris did this often, especially before you left the house, you had seen him do it to his younger friends, too. The gesture always brought heat to your face, and you honestly didn’t think you’d ever get used to it.

“Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. Have fun, love!” was the last thing he told you before he turned around and returned to his room.

You left shortly after that, feeling actually thankful for the hoodie once you stepped out of the building, since it truly was cold out, and the garment surely helped you retain heat much better than the jacket you were planning on wearing.

That day, you had decided to stay at your friend’s place for an impromptu sleepover, and the entire thing triggered the second weird interaction with Chris that weekend, just that this time it was over text.

< You: heyyyyy darrliinnng,,,,  < just so you know i’m staying here today < dont forget to lock the door tonight < AGAIN

> Xtopher 🐺: i never forget to lock the door pretty girl > lier > liiiieeeerrr

You scoffed at the message, but you also couldn’t help but chuckle after. The nerve of this man, as if you hadn’t arrived home late at night or even the next day after going out to find that he didn’t lock the door. After a couple of minutes, Chris texted again.

> Xtopher 🐺: u guys on ur own?

< You: no < my friend’s older brothers are here < we’re playing mario kart

Chris had read your message. You could see he was online, and you saw the ‘typing…’ message appear and disappear for five whole minutes before he finally replied.

> Xtopher 🐺: u wearing the hoodie > ?

< You: yes?

> Xtopher 🐺: show me

You rolled your eyes, just slightly annoyed–or you tried to tell yourself you were annoyed, in reality you had a smile on your face, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit amused by Chris’ antics. You decided to humour him. After all, you hadn’t taken the hoodie off since you left your flat. If anyone asked, you’d just tell them the thing was comfortable–which wasn’t entirely a lie–but the truth was you continued wearing it just because you enjoyed the way you could smell him on it. It was almost like he was there, hugging you.

< You: [sent a photo]

> Xtopher 🐺: good > u should sleep in it cutie > its cold today

He’d mentioned this ‘it’s cold, you’ll catch a cold’ thing twice already. Chris could be overly protective of his friends, you’d seen it time and time again with your neighbours–his friends–and you’d even been on the receiving end of his worries many times in the past, so you decided not to think too much of it.

The moment you opened your flat’s door the next day, Chris was already pulling you into his arms, hugging you tightly and pressing a kiss to your forehead. You let him hug you, because of course you did. It wasn’t like you never hugged, but it was honestly never like this–never had he held you this close, this tightly. Even if his behaviour had been slightly out of the ordinary you couldn’t bring yourself to not let him hug you, selfishly deciding that you would let yourself indulge.

What you had not been prepared for that day, though, was feeling Chris press his face to your neck, nor feeling his nose lightly brush the area right under your jaw. You tensed at the foreign feeling, and Chris tensed immediately after. He scrambled to pull himself away from you, mumbling a ‘sorry, welcome back. There’s food on the stove’ before he promptly disappeared into his room.

Things got weirder as days went by, Chris would simultaneously get close to you and try to keep himself as far away as possible. It got especially weird one night when his friend Seungmin came by. You’d hugged Seungmin to greet him–just like you always did–and you were both suddenly startled by a low growl. Seungmin’s eyes snapped in Chris’ direction, looking at him sitting on the sofa, glaring at you two. Seungmin had moved faster than you could even register the movement, walking as far away from you as possible and rambling on to his friend about something you honestly couldn’t even remember now.

You knew what Chris and his friends were. You knew what this entire building was–although you didn’t know it when you first moved here.

Your mother and Chris’ worked at the same company, so when he started to look for a roommate because ‘godforsaken bills are expensive as shit’, his mother had asked around the office for any possible candidate, and your mother had given her your contact details since you had been looking to move out for a few months by that point.

The building wasn’t particularly big, only four floors without counting the ground floor. You learnt after moving in that the building belonged to Changbin’s parents. Changbin was one of Chris’ closest friends, and that arrangement with his parents made it so the both of them and six other friends of theirs could move into this building.

At first, you had been hesitant to move in with a man, but on your first visit Chris had made you feel so comfortable and welcomed there was no doubt in your mind when you finally decided to move in.

You learnt of their… Condition four months after moving in. You had a date and the guys thought you wouldn’t be coming back that day. Chris was clearly not counting on your date being an absolute asshole and you running back to your flat that same night, because as soon as you stepped through the door you found three large ‘dogs’ in the middle of your living room with Chris and a handful of his friends surrounding them. They all gave you panicked looks, and after a lot of screaming and prying and questioning, Chris confessed to you that they were werewolves.

It had taken you a full week to accept the truth, but once you did every single odd behaviour you had noticed in Chris and his friends made a lot of sense. Their monthly ‘camping trip’ that would always conveniently happen when there was a full moon, how touchy and affectionate he and his friends were, ‘cuddles are a must!’ he would say often when holding onto someone, or how hot their skin was… The list could go on and on. Interestingly enough, they never made you feel threatened or in danger, on the contrary, they had welcomed you into their lives–into their den–and they even became your friends, too.

You had done a lot of reading on werewolves since then. Sometimes you asked Chris for details when you felt specially curious, other times you just went on the internet and dug out whatever you could find, but this odd behaviour of Chris’ lately was something you hadn’t inquired further into yet. You’d been too busy trying to study for your upcoming exams while balancing work, and that left no room for your mind to wander. Hell, you hadn’t even had time to fold your laundry, the pile of clothes being moved back and forth from the chair to your bed every morning and every night.

You were sitting on your chair, leaning over the desk in your room to scribble on the countless sheets of papers scattered around, trying to cram even more information into your brain. You certainly needed to take a break, but it was hard to bring yourself to. The universe, however, clearly had other plans for you.

The sudden knock on your door startled you, but you still turned around and mustered a soft ‘come in’, only to see Chris open your door shortly after, making his way into your room.

“Hey, you wanna eat–” His movements stopped and his eyes opened wide as his gaze moved from the pile of clothes on your bed, to you, back to the clothes, and back to you.

“Ah, sorry for the mess. I haven’t had time to fold my clothes”, you shrugged, pulling the sleeve of the hoodie you were wearing–his hoodie–down your arm again, since you usually had to roll it up to your elbow when you wanted to write to avoid shuffling the papers around.

Chris’ eyes followed your movement, and the doorknob he still held in his hand rattled slightly as his grip around it tightened–tight enough to make his fist tremble.

“Shit…” He mumbled, only to turn around and bolt out of your room. “Shit, shit, shit…” You could hear him swearing even as he walked away, and alarm bells started to ring in your head instantly.

Your body moved almost on its own, following him down the hall. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…” He fumbled with his bag that had been discarded this morning by the sofa, pushing his laptop inside. “Gotta go…” You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or not, but you pressed him further.

“Christopher, what’s wrong?”

“You… Shit… Go, go, go…” Chris made a beeline towards the front door, picking up his keys from their designated bowl on the bureau as soon as he made it to the entryway.

You couldn’t let him leave, not when he looked this… Well, you weren’t sure what he was feeling, but he was certainly frantic, and that couldn’t be a good sign. So you moved quickly, getting close to him so you could pull on his arm. “Chris–”

At that moment you were reminded that Chris and his friends were, in fact, otherworldly. You couldn’t even register the movement, one instant you were standing in the middle of the hall and the next you had your back against the wall, with Chris’ hands at either side of you and his body pressing you to it as his nose brushed against your neck, inhaling deeply.

“So fucking good…” His voice was barely a whisper, but there was absolutely no space between you, so you heard him. You heard him loud and clear. You should’ve felt intimidated, scared even. But right then, as you felt his warmth seep into you, and hearing the low tone of his voice, you couldn’t help but come to the realisation that you liked it.

“C–Chris”, your hands came up, your fingers barely brushed his sides, but then he moved away, rather abruptly.

“Fuck, I’m… I’m so sorry”, he brought his hands to his head, burying his fingers in his hair, and pulling the strands as he started to pace around the hall. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry”.

“Are you… Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask, he was clearly extremely worried, and now that you got to look at him better, he almost looked in pain. It was starting to worry you.

Chris’ eyes snapped up to meet yours, and an incredulous look settled on his face. “Am I okay? I just pushed you against the wall and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

You simply held his gaze, just like you always did. You didn’t know how long the stare-off lasted, probably a few seconds, but it felt eternal. You would’ve continued staring back at him had a growl not resonated from deep within his chest, making the fine hairs at your nape stand on end and your eyes go wide in surprise, while his shut tightly. “Stop looking me in the eyes, God. Do you have any idea what that does to my head?”

“What does it do?” You could guess what it did. You could guess because you had thought about it before. 

Chris was an alpha werewolf, he was the leader of his pack, and you knew that eye contact could potentially mean you were challenging his role in the group. And maybe you were. Maybe you were just trying to get him to react.

“Makes me want to–” Chris cut himself short, gritting his teeth and grimacing slightly. When he opened his eyes again, they were almost pleading. “God, I’m so sorry. I’ve been… Been trying really hard to not make you uncomfortable, but here I am being a total creep”.

You finally detached yourself from the wall, walking a few steps closer to him, and his body tensed at the proximity. “I don’t think you’re a creep, I’m actually really worried about you. You’ve been acting weird all week, what’s going on?”

“Shit, you… You really have no idea, do you?” Chris’ entire body was taut as he stared you up and down, and the motion made you gulp, almost audibly.

“About what?” You took another tentative step closer. Your brain did register the danger, it urged you to run away, but there was something in you that wouldn’t let you, that wanted you to move as close to him as you could.

Chris’ gaze moved back up to look at your face briefly, only to dip lower slightly, looking at your neck. His tongue peeked from within his mouth, licking his lips almost absentmindedly as he looked at you. “How fucking good you smell”, he inhaled sharply. The action somehow brought heat to your face, it made you blush. “Fuck, it’s been driving me nuts all week. It’s been driving me nuts for months, but especially this week…”

He took a step closer, only to stop his movements as soon as they started, clenching his fists tightly at his sides. You stayed silent, rooted on the spot right where you were, which he clearly noticed. “You need to get away from me. I’m… Dangerous, fuck. The things roaming in my head right now… Shit…”

You knew he was right. You needed to leave. But you really couldn’t bring yourself to. “What are you thinking about? Tell me”.

Shaking his head, Chris shut his eyes tightly, and a faint blush settled on his cheeks. Against your better judgement, you walked another step closer, just as your eyes roamed his form. You had failed to notice before, but now it was very obvious to you what was going on. Your eyes went wide in surprise, and you just couldn’t stop your tongue from leaving your mouth to lick your lips as you noticed the tent in his joggers. He was… He was huge, and you would lie if you said you were not affected by the sight.

Chris’ eyes snapped open, and yours snapped back up to look him in the eyes again. Shit, he’d caught looking, and something was starting to change in his eyes as he looked back at you. Gulping the saliva that had collected in your mouth, you found the courage to ask. “Are you… Are you going through your rut already?”

“So it seems”, he took a step closer towards you.

“Is this why you’ve been lending me one of your hoodies every day? To leave your scent on me?” 

His ears grew red, but he kept his mouth tightly shut. His eyes scanned your face for a bit only to finally settle on your neck once again, giving you a minute nod of his head.

“Be honest with me, Christopher. Why are you doing it? Is this something you do with our friends, too, to keep them safe or something?” You needed to know. You needed to know what he thought of you. Did he think of you in the same ways that you had thought of him all these months?

Chris inhaled deeply once again, and he took another step closer. “No, this is not something I do to my friends. I just can’t bear thinking there might be anyone out there that could smell you and get any ideas, especially not when you’re fucking ovulating”.

Your breath hitched in your throat, just as you felt wetness pool in your core, and Chris growled. He literally growled, like an animal, and the sound made you a bit lightheaded, but probably not for the reasons it should have. “Fuck, why are you… Why are you getting turned on by this? You know full well what I am. Go lock yourself in your fucking room while I can still think and hold back”.

“What if… What if I don’t want to lock myself in my room?” You licked your lips, and Chris’ eyes followed the movement, just as another low growl resonated from deep within him. “What if I don’t want you to hold back?”

You felt your back hit the wall again, but it was hard to register it when you could also feel Chris’ lips on yours, when you could feel him kissing you so eagerly. A small whimper escaped your mouth as soon as he kissed you, and you immediately kissed him back, grabbing his shirt tightly in your fists to pull him as close to you as you could while his hands found their way to your lower back. 

You could feel his hardened length press against your belly, and it made you whine. One of his hands dipped lower from your back to grope one of your buttocks while the other dragged up your front, finding one of your breasts and squeezing it. His grip was strong, firm and you couldn’t help but moan against his mouth, eliciting a grunt from his lips.

When Chris separated his mouth from yours, he diverted his attention to your neck, pressing his nose under your jaw and inhaling deeply once again. “Fuck, you smell so fucking good. So sweet and fertile”, the hand on your breast shuffled, and his fingers found your nipple, pinching it over the fabric of your hoodie–his hoodie. “I want you to be mine, fuck. Mine and only mine. I’ve wanted it for so long”.

Your inner walls clenched around nothing, and you felt more wetness pool at your core as soon as his words registered in your brain. Chris noticed, because of course he did, how could he not when his enhanced senses seemed to be able to pick up even the smallest changes in your body. He rolled his hips to grind his cock against you, grunting, letting you feel him. “You want that, too, yeah? Wanna be mine? Just say it, love, and I’ll make you mine. All mine”, he emphasised his words with another squeeze to your breast, making you whine.

“Wanna–Wanna be yours… Wanted to for so long, too”.

“Fuck…” He moved his hand from your breast, dragging all the way up for him to take a hold of the back of your neck while his lips returned to yours.

He kissed you with force, with need, his tongue made its way into your mouth to find yours eagerly waiting for him, ready to dance against his. You felt dizzy, completely overcome by his presence around you–his hands, his tongue, his mouth, the sounds he made, how warm he felt under your hands… All combined was steadily clouding your reason–not like you had much of it left since you had moved into this place.

Chris scooped you into his arms, the action was so sudden it made you yelp as your legs wrapped around his middle on instinct and your arms looped around his neck for stability. No one had ever been able to pick you up like this, this… Easily. 

You weren’t exactly light, you’d always been on the curvier, chubbier side–which you’d always liked about yourself, you did feel pretty, but you had never let anyone even remotely try to carry you. Yet, Chris didn’t seem to struggle one bit, as if you weighed nothing. Moving with purpose, he started to whisper in your ear. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby. So good. I’ll treat you so well, just like you deserve”.

Your hands trembled slightly as you held onto his shoulders. “Chris…”

“God…” Chris reached your room, pushing the door closed with his foot as soon as he was inside. “Say my name again”.

“Chris”, your voice was barely a whisper, with your lips almost pressed to his ear as you spoke.

“Again” He dropped you on your bed, right on top of your unfolded clothes. Taking a hold of the back of his vest top, he pulled it over his head, and your mouth immediately watered at the sight. He was so incredibly handsome, you could almost feel your hands tremble with excitement at the prospect of finally getting to touch him just how you’d been wanting to

“Chris”, you repeated, looking up at him as he kneeled between your legs. He was so broad, you just couldn’t stop your hands from reaching out to palm his shoulders while his fingers hooked on the waistband of your leggings, and you gasped when he pulled them roughly down your legs.

“Fuck… Look at you”, his hands found your inner thighs, rubbing them up and down, dragging them over your skin for a bit to warm up, only to grip them tightly after, making you squeal. 

He pushed your legs apart, roughly, all so he could shove his face between your legs. His nose prodded your clothed entrance, making you moan softly, and a low growl seemed to have started to rumble deep within him. Never had you felt this affected by anyone, every single one of his movements had your skin on fire, your senses alert, and especially now, as his tongue dragged over the wet spot on your underwear, making you swear under your breath.

By the time you registered the movement, Chris had already torn your underwear apart, the thing reduced to shredded scraps that he simply threw on the floor, looking almost offended that the garment had been on you in the first place. His gaze fixed on your core, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips as two of his fingers came to collect your essence, spreading it all over your slit.

“So fucking wet”, his fingers moved from your entrance to your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles that had you whimpering under his touch. “Who made you this wet?”

“You did–” Your words caught in your throat when his fingers moved down again.

“Who?” He shoved two of his digits into you, the wetness between your legs letting them enter you with ease. The sudden intrusion had you throwing your head back, curling your toes, and you couldn’t help but moan at the feel of his fingers moving in and out of you, deliciously dragging against your walls.

“You, Chris!” His tongue swiped over your clit, and as soon as he tasted you, an almost animalistic groan escaped his throat. 

His mouth was relentless, kissing and licking your clit while his fingers fucked you open. Time and space slipped between your fingers, all thoughts in your brain disappeared as your mind filled only with Chris and his fingers and his tongue and the sounds he made. If him eating you out and fingering you felt like this, you couldn’t even fathom how it’d be like when he fucked you, but you were certainly more than ready to find out.

Two fingers turned into three, that later turned into four, stretching you open to your limits while his tongue on your clit coaxed the lewdest sounds to come out of your lips. The most alluring part of it all, though, was his eyes, staring deep into yours. It was almost as if he was finally getting his payback for all the times you had stared back at him in the past, like he was trying to remind you, to shove in your face, just who was the predator and who was the prey.

And it made you feel warm, really warm. Sweat collected on the back of your neck as his fingers stretched you open and his tongue worked you up. A low, constant growl rumbled from him, you could feel the vibrations on your thigh that rested on his shoulder, and you could’ve sworn it had your whole bed vibrating with it. All you could do under his touch was moan and pant and whine, completely unable to form any coherent sentences when he had his mouth on you.

Your orgasm hit you hard, your walls spasmed repeatedly around his fingers, and your whole body shook with your release. The onslaught of sensations had tears pricking your eyes, had you struggling to get air into your lungs. The fact that your upper body was still covered by his hoodie probably added to that slight feeling of suffocation as warmth continued to spread all over your body.

Chris finally pulled his fingers out of you, and he brought them to his mouth to lick them clean, savouring the taste of you on his tongue with a deep growl. Attaching his lips to your thighs, he peppered them with kisses, licks, and bites, leaving purple splotches on your skin, mumbling to himself–the words falling against your skin, vaguely sounding like ‘so pretty, so, so pretty, so pretty, my pretty girl, gonna make you feel so good, gonna stuff you full, pretty, pretty’.

When he was satisfied with the art he left on your thighs he shuffled so he could kneel between your legs again. “Off”, Chris tugged on the hem of your hoodie, pulling it off of you in one swift motion, making your body bounce a bit when you fell back onto the bed as soon as the garment was off. “Fuck… Have you been wearing my clothes like this all the time?” His hands dragged all the way from your neck, down your breasts, your belly, and you could see his eyes taking you in, roaming all over your naked form as you laid under him.

“Only when–” Your words caught in your throat when his fingers started to tease your nipples, when you noticed his eyes were absolutely fixed on your chest. Chris seemed to be completely enthralled by the sight in front of him, by your sensitive skin under his fingertips, by the sounds he was coaxing out of your mouth with his fingers working your chest. 

Swallowing, and after taking a deep breath, you got enough clarity in your mind to speak again. “Only when I want to feel like you’re the one warming me up”, there was a permanent blush on your face, it had made its home there as soon as his mouth connected to your heat earlier, so letting out one of your deepest secrets hardly changed your outer state.

Chris’ gaze snapped up from your chest to lock eyes with you, and you felt your breath catching in your throat again. You had never seen his eyes looking this dark. He had the prettiest brown eyes you’d ever seen, but right now his pupils almost completely engulfed that warm brown of his, leaving only black behind. With one final lick of his lips, his mouth found yours, kissing you deeply, hungrily. You’d admit that during your time living here, you had wondered many times how his lips would feel, how’d it be if he kissed you. They looked soft, plump, and now that you finally got a taste you were sure you wanted to have them on you as many times as possible, for as long as possible.

Taking your lower lip between his teeth, Chris moved away from you, eliciting a whimper to escape from your mouth once he released you. He got rid of his joggers, and his cock stood tall and proud between his legs. Fluid leaked from his tip–a lot of fluid–clear and thick. He collected some of it in his palm, coating himself thoroughly before he finally wrapped his fingers around his length, pumping it. 

You propped yourself on your elbows, trying to get a better view, and you were completely captivated by the sight of his head popping out of his fist as he jerked himself, subconsciously licking your lips while you stared. He was bigger, girthier, than any regular human you’d seen, much less fucked. Quite honestly, it was slightly intimidating, but you weren’t one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the only thoughts in your mind right now were Chris and his fucking werewolf cock.

In one swift movement, Chris took a hold of your hips and pulled you further down on the bed, making you yelp. Your upper body fell back on the mattress with the motion, and he pushed your thighs together, moving them towards your chest. Bringing his hand to his mouth, he spread saliva over his palm before he wrapped his fingers around his length and coated himself in it–not like he needed it, since clear fluid continued to constantly leak from his tip.

“You look so good like this… You’re so fucking gorgeous��, bringing your legs towards him, he let them rest on his chest. His tip brushed your thighs, right where your supple flesh met, close to your core but not making contact with it, making you shudder as you felt his slick on your skin. “So soft, too”, Chris eased himself between your thighs with a satisfied groan, and your walls clenched around nothing while he held your legs in place and his hips started to thrust back and forth. “Even here, especially here. All mine to enjoy…”

Even if he was not actively stimulating you, this was quite possibly one of the most arousing things someone had ever done to you. The sight of his tip poking between your legs, the feel of his hips against your skin, all added to the look on his face as he looked down at you like you were his meal had you moaning softly, and even whining a bit.

“Fuck, I can almost taste how horny you are… Your scent’s everywhere. So fucking delicious”, his pace picked up, his hips collided against you with force as he fucked your thighs. Not only was it the sound of wet skin against wet skin, but also the feel of him hitting the back of your thighs that had you grabbing handfuls of the bedsheets, that had your whole body feeling tingling with need.

“Chris, please…” You weren’t even sure yourself what you were begging for, but as you stared back into his eyes you felt the urge to beg, so you did.

He pushed your thighs apart with force, and one of his hands took a hold of your hip, angling you just how he needed you to be, just how he wanted you to be, while the other took a hold of his cock, bringing close to your heat to tease your clit with his tip. The contact of his bare skin against yours had your breath catching in your throat, and Chris had a similar reaction as he stared at his cock brushing over your folds.

You knew he was clean, you two had gone to one of those pop-up clinics with Changbin around a month ago since he wanted some moral support after a scare. You’d gotten tested for the heck of it, just as did Chris, both coming up negative, and neither of you had been with anyone after–not like you could think too much about it anyway, you were so far gone you would’ve probably let him do anything to you without any second thought, because you wanted him to do those things, at this point, you felt like you needed him. Badly.

When his length started to make its way into your core, slowly stretching your walls, you truly got to feel his size. You were dripping, as was he–his cock still covered in the mix of his saliva and his slick–and he had prepped you with his fingers, but it was almost nothing compared to this. Bringing a hand to your core, you started to rub circles on your clit, trying to get yourself to relax.

“You’re doing well, baby. So good for me…” He was half way in, and you could hardly breathe. One of his hands moved to tweak your nipple, the stimulation coupled with the one of your fingers on your clit helped ease some of that sting you could feel between your legs.

“C–Chris”, you whimpered softly, looking him in the eyes. 

Chris was an alpha, you knew that already, but as you your eyes found his you were able to understand part of his nature. Not because he looked dominant, or lustful, or borderline animalistic, but because he looked at you like he wanted to protect you, to comfort you. Even if he surely wanted to fuck you into oblivion, the need to provide comfort to you was clearly overpowering that need to mount you.

“Shh… It’s okay. You’re a brave girl, I know you can take what’s yours”, with one final push of his hips he finally bottomed out.

Your fingers moved away from your clit as you exhaled–shit, you hadn’t even realised you had been holding your breath. Chris’ hands came to rest on your thighs, dragging them up and down in soothing motions. You felt impossibly full, completely stretched to your limits–had he been any bigger you doubt you would’ve been able to take him in at all.

“Fuck, so tight and warm…” His fingers came to toy with your clit, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. A low growl resonated in his chest, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he licked his lips while he threw his head back to enjoy the feeling of your walls wrapped snugly around him. “I’ll fuck you so good, pretty. I’ll make you all mine”.

You took a deep breath, and your eyes found his once he finally opened them to look at you again. You were still slightly breathless, but that didn’t seem to overpower the determination in your voice. “Do it, then. Fuck me good, Christopher”.

As soon as the words left your mouth, it was as if something snapped within him. The comforting, caring look left his eyes completely, replaced by an animalistic, dark look. When his thumb found your clit, rubbing precise circles on it, and his hips pulled back, only to snap back into you almost immediately, starting a fast, hard pace, you couldn’t help but cry out. It was a lot, a lot but somehow not enough at the same time. 

Your walls adjusted quickly, the harsh sound of his hips hitting your skin made you dizzy, and it was almost like you could feel him in your throat whenever he thrusted all the way in. If you ever thought you had been fucked hard in your life, that had been nothing compared to the way Chris was fucking you now. 

His fingers dug on the skin of your thigh, you could already feel bruises forming under his hold, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was having his hands on you, having his body over you, and having his cock fuck you open.

His thumb never left your clit, and before you could even register it building, your release hit you, making him growl at the feeling of your walls pulsating around him as he kept pounding into you. “So good for me, love. You’re taking me so fucking well. Can’t wait to fill you to the brim”.

Barely giving you time to catch your breath, Chris pulled out of you to take a hold of your waist, swiftly flipping you on your stomach, so he could pull your hips up for your lower body’s weight to rest on your knees. “Look at these hips, fuck…”

He pushed his cock into you again, taking the air away from your lungs as he resumed his relentless pace. “So fucking perfect… So breedable and ready for me”.

The hold his hands had on your hips was firm, strong, his fingers dug on your skin, and the fullness of your flesh gave him plenty of leverage to grip you tightly and push you back to meet his thrusts. “You’ll carry my pups so well, love. So fucking well. You’re so fucking perfect”.

You could barely keep your upper body propped up on your elbows, grabbing handfuls of the sheets to keep yourself mildly grounded. You honestly couldn’t do anything other than moan and whine and whimper his name. His hand sneaked around your hip to rub circles on your clit. You were sensitive from your previous orgasms still, added to the stretch of his monster cock, his fingers on that bundle of nerves between your legs had you almost seeing stars as soon as he started to stimulate it.

The sudden sting between your legs brought your senses back to reality, only enough to remember what alpha males experienced when they were going through their rut, something you had read once, and when you’d asked Chris about it he had blushed profusely and walked away from you, leaving you hanging.

“Chris!” You whimpered, feeling the extra stretch steadily growing within your walls.

“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can take it, I know you can”, his fingers on your clit sped up impossibly faster, rubbing you for a while, building your release once again only for you to finally come crashing down.

His hips stuttered with the feel of your walls spasming around him, and by the way your walls stretched around his length, by the way his knot kept catching at your entrance as it grew, you figured he was getting close to his own climax. Chris leaned over you, with his chest against your back and his hand pressed your lower belly, lightly gripping your soft skin, he whispered in your ear. “Take my knot, baby. I know you can take it in your perfect little cunt. I’m gonna stuff you full of my pups soon and you’ll take it all, yeah?”

“Y–yes…” Your voice was hoarse, barely even loud enough for yourself to hear, but Chris heard you. There was no way he wouldn’t hear you when he was so close to you, when you might as well had been one and the same at this very moment. A low, drawn out growl reverberated against your back when he finally came, when he finally shoved his knot as deep as he could within your walls for his seed to fill you up.

It felt like he was coming for an eternity, his cum spurted endlessly from his cock while he rubbed his face on your shoulder, your neck, your back, mumbling ‘mine, all mine, my pretty girl, all for me…’ nonstop, mumbling the words like he didn’t even need to think about them, like it was all he could focus on while he filled you to the brim. A ringing broke free in your ears, your whole body ached and you felt truly stuffed completely full by the time Chris finally stopped coming.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he manoeuvred your bodies, taking special care to not let his knot pull too much while you moved. He laid you both on your side, this position allowed you to feel less of that pulling sensation between your legs, leaving only a dull ache that seemed to ease the longer you spent laying there in his arms. Even if you were achy and in a bit of pain, you couldn’t help but feel immensely satisfied, oddly proud of yourself after taking this much.

Chris pressed pecks on your shoulder, just as he caressed the soft skin of your lower belly while he whispered words of encouragement on your skin–‘you took me so well, baby. So, so well, I’m so lucky, you’re so good to me…’ He did this for a while, a while of his lips trailing kisses from your shoulder to your neck and back again, a while of goosebumps rising on your skin wherever he touched. His soothing, caring motions made your eyelids heavy, almost lulling you to sleep.

“I’m sorry, baby…” Chris mumbled against the skin of your shoulder, pulling you back from that semi-asleep state you were falling into.

You sought his arm, gently caressing him, and you felt goosebumps of his own raise under your touch. “Why are you apologising?” 

“For… For having you go through this”, he sounded apologetic, ashamed, even, and you didn’t like it one bit.

You scoffed, almost offended. “Don’t let it get to your head, babe, but this is probably the hottest sex I’ve ever had”.

Chris laughed, incredulous. “Fuck, I don’t know who’s crazier here, me or you”, he was starting to sound more like his every day self, and it made you smile. It made you feel all warm and fuzzy, just how you always felt whenever you spent time with him.

“Clearly me. I’m the one who begged a fucking werewolf to fuck me”, you chuckled, as did Chris.

A comfortable silence settled between you two, you took his hand in yours, bringing it close to your mouth so you could press kisses on his palm, his fingers, all while he kept kissing your shoulders, your neck… A comfortable silence spent just cuddling each other, enjoying each other’s warmth and each other’s company.

You were silent for a while, until a question popped in your head suddenly, and curiosity wouldn’t let you just keep it to yourself. “Isn’t it too soon for you to start your rut? I remember you telling me about the previous one, it wasn’t that long ago, only a handful of months, no?”

“It was supposed to start later this month, which is why I was still in the house…” During his last rut, Chris had left the flat for a few days to stay at one of the vacant flats in the building–something he and the rest could do thanks to an arrangement Changbin had with his parents–that was actually how you came to know about ruts in the first place. 

Burying his face in your neck, Chris inhaled deeply, letting out a content sigh right after. “Since my rut was so close, I guess your ovulation triggered it”, he chuckled, but his body suddenly tensed. He removed his hand from your hold so he could lay his palm flat on your lower belly, and when he spoke he sounded slightly panicked. “Shit… Fuck, I’ll get you the morning after pill”.

That made you laugh, loudly. “Are you for real? After all that talk about breeding me and me carrying your pups?”

“That’s… It’s a biological thing, okay?” Embarrassment clung to his voice, and it made you chuckle softly. “I’m on my rut, of course all the wolf wants is to breed you. I mean, I can’t blame him, look at these hips, fuck…” He took a hold of your hip, the soft flesh dipped under his hold when he gripped it tightly. When he finally released it, he caressed the area.

“But I… Uh… I haven’t even taken you on a date yet! We can’t have children like this”, he tapped his fingers on your hip, just as his lips resumed their motions, pressing soft pecks on your shoulder.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea either”, sure, it was hot while you fucked, but now that you can actually think like a person you knew he was right, and you decided to come clean. “Anyway, just so you know, I’m on birth control. The one that makes you ovulate still apparently”, you chuckled softly, and you felt Chris’ body relax behind you.

Chris hummed against your skin. “Lucky me… You do smell so good. You always do, but fuck, this week… Unbearable. Had me hard most of the time, could barely hide it. Can’t believe you didn’t even notice, it’s not exactly easy to hide…”

“I can’t believe you’ve been fucking scenting me all week”, you chuckled.

“Babe, don’t think ill of me, but I started scenting you a month after you moved in…” 

You blinked a few times, and you wished you could look him in the eyes right now. “What? Why?”

He mumbled something against your skin, something you couldnʼt quite catch. “What was that?”

Chris sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing you further into him. “I said… I couldn’t stand when you came home smelling of other men… I couldn’t stand thinking of them doing things with you, to you, that I wished I could do…”

A blush spread over your cheeks, and you were honestly unable to say anything other than a barely audible ‘oh…ʼ

“So, yeah. I’ve, uh… I’ve liked you for a long time, if you couldn’t tell…”

Slowly, you noticed how his knot started to deflate, and his seed started to pour out of you and onto the mess of clothes under you. “Shit… My laundry”, you chuckled, honestly not caring much about having to wash another load. “I like you, too, Chris. A lot”.

He hummed, further burying his face in the back of your neck as his knot deflated completely, allowing you to move freely again. “I can’t believe you had your clothes here on your bed like this, fuck… Almost gave me a heart attack”.

“Why?” 

Chris propped himself on an elbow, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead before he moved over you and off of the bed. “Because, pretty baby”, he stretched his limbs, groaning a bit, giving your eyes the opportunity to roam every single defined muscle on his body. A sight that you really appreciated. “With your scent as sweet as it was, and you wearing my hoodie, it was almost like you had prepared a pretty little nest for me to fuck your brains out in”.

You had completely forgotten about nests and what they meant to wolves, and you felt heat immediately come to your face, blushing profusely. “Oh…”

“Subconsciously, it’s almost like you did”, Chris chuckled, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “Stay here in your pretty nest, little one. I’ll prepare something for you while I can still think like a man. I don’t think I’ll be able to when my rut hits me fully. Need to keep hydrated and well fed so you can take me this well each time”.

Author’s notex2: so, as i added in the note at the beginning, as of 31/03/2023 this work was re-edited to better reflect my current writing style. i decided to update this post instead of posting it again because i just didn’t want the old version still around lol, but if you want it back, let me know. i saved it and might consider posting it separately for nostalgic value.

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments:  It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

© therhythmafterthesummer 2022-2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback is always welcome :)

[ladyloveandjustice]

My Top 12 Favorite Anime of 2023 (and more)!

This was a great year for anime, so here's a long list of my top 12 (including some bonus great anime). If you get tired of clicking the review links, check out my anime overview collection for all of them here.  You can also check out my list of favorite manga here!

Some of these are ongoing, so consider those only a review of the first cour-- no official endorsement on the rest because it hasn't aired yet!

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury (Season 2)

When I listed G-Witch in last year's top anime list, I prayed the show wouldn't betray me. Fortunately, it didn't! Though the final half of the show was a bit rushed, it remained must-see, compelling sci-fi full of exciting twists and turns. And I adore the well developed romance between the robot-piloting protagonist and precious girl, Suletta, and her fierce fiancé, Miorine.  Whether you’re here for starcrossed queer lovers, robots wrecking each other, tense battles between opposing political factions, or morally-horrifying moms on a revenge spree, you’re in for a treat.

See my full review here.

Yuri is my Job!

Hime is roped into working at a cafe where the waitresses playact as students of the fictional all girl’s school from a beloved novel series. However, Hime finds her co-worker, Mitsuki, has an inexplicable grudge against her. Thus begins a tangled web of romance and wounded feelings among the girls in the cafe! Yuri is My Job seems like a fun comedy boasting a cast full of quirky lesbians, but then reveals itself to be a complicated and fascinating examination of performance- as it intersects with queerness, girlhood,  and the desire to be “likeable” and “cute". It's top-tier lesbian drama full of fraught relationships and it's absolutely worth a watch.

See my full review here.

The Apothecary Diaries (still ongoing, review is for the first cour)

Though it's still going, I have to sing the praises of this dazzling anime about a saavy apothecary who uses her medical expertise to solve the many murders and betrayals in the Emperor's palace. MaoMao is a fantastic lead, a poison-obsessed gremlin who's whip-smart, deadpan, and fun to follow. The Apothecary Diaries has intrigue, well-developed characters, and an impeccable atmosphere. It tells a great range of stories, from romantic triumph, to bittersweet tales of recovering from grief, to pure tragedies. I'm totally hooked.

See my full review here.

The Magical Revolution of the Reincarnated Princess and the Genius Young Lady

When Euphie is dumped by her fiance at a ball, the oddball princess Anis rescues her.  Euphie becomes Anis' assistant in her quest to develop magical tools. The girls also start to develop feelings for each other, while discovering a conspiracy among the nobility. I'm always desperately in need of cool lesbians having action-packed fantasy adventures, and Magirevo delivers. The characters grow in entertaining ways, we get to see them fight dragons in killer action scenes, and the romantic development is completely satisfying. It's a simple story at its core, but the lovable characters, joyous queerness and jubilant execution make it a great watch.

See my full review here.

Birdie Wing: Golf Girls' Story (Season 2)

In the second season of the anime about girls homoerotically golfing while dealing with the mafia and ludicrous family drama, Birdie Wing remains a bombastically absurd sports anime that is fun all the way through. Please come watch these girls get ridiculous sports  injuries, scream their super golf attacks, experience extremely extra plot twists--and be super gay with each other, of course. The finale didn't go quite as hard as I wanted (and the romance is more subtexual than I wanted), but you need to allow yourself to experience the madness of Birdie Wing.

See full review here.

Skip and Loafer

An endearingly dorky, earnest, and driven girl moves from her small town to Tokyo. While she struggles to adjust, she befriends a nice popular boy who's got some baggage. Skip and Loafer is a show that’s like a warm hug. It's sweet, entertaining and funny. It handles adolescent struggles with tender nuance. There's a emphasis on kindness, connection, and looking past stereotypes and misconceptions. It also includes a trans character who's treated with respect (and is a great character in general!) Let this show touch your heart.

See my full review here.

Undead Murder Farce

An immortal woman has had most of her body stolen by a mysterious man. Reduced to a head carried around by her maid, she teams up with a half-demon man to track the thief down while solving supernatural mysteries all across Victorian England.

This a fun, campy mystery series starring three asshole weirdo protagonists,  it’s bursting with supernatural creatures and literary references. We've got Sherlock Holmes, The Phantom of the Opera, Carmilla and more...along with a vampire murders and werewolf drama galore. UDM is a wonderful romp with stylish, slick direction... and it’s unexpectedly really gay.  I’m aching to see more of these scrappy misfits and their adventures.

See my full review here.

Migi & Dali

A story of twins who are pretending to be one kid in order to fool their foster parents and find out who killed their mother. It starts out as an utterly absurd comedy becomes a impressive and genuinely tense murder mystery that is incredibly moving at times, all while keeping up it’s signature brand of goofiness. There’s genuine commentary on abuse, the damage you can do to children by forcing perfection on them, the struggle of being a foster kid, grief and recovery and more. There's also some great character development. It's a weird one, but it's absolutely worth sticking with.

See full review here.

Pluto

Somebody is killing the most advanced robots in the  world and murdering humans alongside them. A robot detective is trying to track this killer down, but he might be compromised as well. Pluto is a tense, tense, tightly plotted robot murder mystery that keeps you on the edge of your seat. Through robots, it explores the idea of being a tool in a corrupt system, and tackles subjects like war, imperialism, and the nature of hatred. It's a masterful psychological thriller with stunning animation and a rich story.

See my full review here.

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off

This anime approaches the story of Scott Pilgrim and Ramona's seven evil exes from a brands new angle, and the results are great. We get a exploration of relationships and regrets, the messiness of communication and connection, the trials of becoming an adult, all with the signature goofy video game antics. Characters neglected in previous iterations finally get their due, new facets of the story are explored, queer relationships are delved into more, girls kiss...and it's all accompanied by phenomenal animation and a killer soundtrack.

See my full review here

Soaring Sky! Precure

Sora lives in a world called Skyland and wants to be a great hero. When rescuing the kidnapped baby princess, she falls through a portal to earth. There she meets her fellow magical warriors, and as Precure they protect the princess from the villains!

This vibrant, warm-hearted adventure got me back on the Precure train! This series boasts a lot exciting firsts for the franchise--the first official male cure, the first main cure that's eighteen years old- but above all, it has a lively team of characters with who have an entertaining dynamic and enjoyable individual journeys. It's often very funny, the baby has a surprisingly good character arc, and it's bursting with magical girl (and boy) goodness! It's also not afraid to give you an emotional gutpunch when you've been lured into a false sense of security by all the fun times. If you're new to Precure, this is a great jumping on point, and if you've watched it before, this is a series you won't want to miss.

I'm in Love with the Villainess

Rae is reincarnated as the heroine of her favorite dating sim. But she has no interest in romancing any of the boys- she’s head over heels for Claire Francois, the snooty villainess.

Villainess may not be as polished--storywise or animation-wise-- as these other entries. It's a messy series, it has plenty of problems...but it's also very fun, and it touched my queer little heart like no other. Queer people get to indulge in our imperfect faves too, and the silly shenanigans, blatant lesbian wish fulfillment, honest advocacy for queer people, and the joy and earnestness of the series works for me!

See my full review here.

Some Other Great Anime:

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (still ongoing, review is for the first cour)

Frieren is a long-lived elf who was once part of an adventuring party that saved the world from the Demon Lord. But now her friends are passing away and the world is moving on. She decides to retrace her old party's journey so she can understand what she's feeling.

Frieren is both an interesting examination of what happens after the hero saves the world, as well as a meditation on mortality, grief,  and the endless march of time. It takes you on a quiet, beautiful and sometimes touching journey though a pastoral fantasy world. There's some breath-taking animation and excellent atmosphere to enjoy.

See my review here.

Spy x Family (Season 3)

Spy x Family is pretty much staying the course from when we last checked in,  though this season gives a lot more attention to Yor, and I love the cruise ship arc and all the ridiculous fights she gets into a lot! That arc contains some of my favorite gags of the series too (like Loid’s  attempts to be a cool dad). Otherwise, Spyfam has settled into a series that intends to be around for the long haul, so don’t expect too much forward plot momentum. And Yuri (the man, not the genre) unfortunately still exists. Overall it was good season and remains a fun  adaptation. Yor, please step on me.

[lussiane333]

I am cravin for more Art the clown x reader tis lately, are you available making request. if not, understandable. I dont mind smut involved. i wanna see art x reader when theyre on period

This is filth.. I absolutely love it. Not sure if you had something like this in your mind or I just made it filthy.. But I loved writing this.

Warnings for those who might be sensitive to this stuff:

Blood, period blood, smut..

And before texting me how disgusting I am, I already know, no need to remind me ❤️ No but seriously. I usually don't put warnings or anything to my fics, but now I feel like I should 👀 So.. read at your own risk!

Bloody Kisses

Trail of bloody kisses going all the way from your wet cunt, to your stomach, neck and mouth.

Yes. He would kiss you and make you taste your own period blood.

So disgusting that he wants you to suck him off like that. He also wants to cum in your mouth, seeing you swallow his white cum along with blood.. That does something to him.

Art loves the feeling of his cock feeling so warm inside of you.

Not only when you're on your period. It's not just about the pleasure, when he is inside of you it's intimate for him, revealing himself to you and you only. The blood is a bonus, It's more fun and he can be very funny.. ;)

The sight of your blood smeared all around, covering your thighs, his hands and mouth, yours too, the bedsheets..

Oh, and when he is done with you? He will dip his finger into your blood and write 'ART WAS HERE' right above your cunt.

After the session, he is admiring how beautiful you look.. So sore, panting, dirty with his cum mixed with blood. You want to go shower? Not a chance. Art wants to observe, he's really proud of his.. Artwork...

How he wishes it was someone else's blood.. His absolute fantasy is to fuck you in front of victim(s) he already massacred / are still alive (barely), looking at you two with pure disgust and hate. So if you two didn't yet, it is bound to happen.

Although, I don't think he would be 10000% comfortable if parts of his body were revealed in front of someone else WHILE he fucks you, because as I stated before it's intimate for him. But it's Art that we're talking about here, so he probably wouldn't care at all. He just feels proud of having someone that is somewhat like him. At least in this sphere..

Art has this weird thing.. When something is dirty, you clean it right? He loves watching things go from dirty to all nice and clean. Same goes with you. You're showering and he is standing there, grinning. He will watch how the bloody water is vanishing into the drainer and your skin looking all soft and clean. (Perfect to ruin and mark all over again) He feels so satisfied.

After that, he will clean himself too and then accopany you to where you are.

He will give you the look.. I'm telling you, he really likes doing this to you. He will lift his eyebrows, eye you up and down, massage your belly...

Wanna go again? 😏

[badperson-8]

Butting In (Part 2) Satan and Asmodeus

Male/AMAB MC finds an intriguing sex toy – a magical fleshlight, which is automatically connected to the body of whoever haunts their sexual fantasies. How will each brother react if MC succumbs to the temptation and uses the device?

amabMC x Satan | amabMC x Asmo

2.7k words | NSFW | Porn without plot | gn!pronouns MC | AO3 link

Content Warnings: Dub-con | Anal Sex | Mentions of Blood and Violence (not during sex)

Part 1 (Lucifer, Mammon, Levi) Part 3 (Beel, Belphie) Part 4 (Diavolo)

Satan

Satan breathes heavily as he opens his eyes and looks around. There are three unconscious bodies (maybe even corpses) lying at his feet. Their flesh is all torn up, lacking either an arm or a leg. Satan stares at his hands, covered in blood, trying to remember how he got to this point. As the red liquid dries up and loses its pleasant warmth, he recalls what exactly happened.

Satan was on his way to the bookstore to find a book from the Human world MC mentioned earlier, when he heard a strange commotion in the alley nearby. He had some spare time, so he decided to check what was going on. There he found three young demons who were having fun by torturing a cat. The poor creature had multiple wounds all over its body.

The next second, Satan was standing in his demon form with blood on his hands. Well, that certainly explains things. It’s a relief that the reason for his temporary memory loss was rage. It would be unfortunate if he started having memory problems; his brain is an important storage of countless useful pieces of information after all.

Satan ignores the quiet whining of one of the demons - torturers of cats don’t deserve life in his book. It’s much more important to find the wounded kitten. It is known that cats have some mysterious connection to the Devildom, the land itself protects them, granting magical abilities that also include fast regeneration. They are much more vulnerable in the Human world than here, but still. It’s important to check this cat just in case, and maybe carry it to the vet clinic.

Satan takes a few steps further to the alley when he suddenly feels the overwhelming pleasure spreading across his whole body. The demon stops in shock, trying to analyze what provoked this reaction. Definitely not the recent massacre; Satan knows himself well enough to know that while violence satisfies his needs as the Avatar of Wrath, it doesn’t turn him on. Maybe the reason for such a reaction is the fact that it’s a rare occasion when he almost feels like a hero? Sexual arousal has a strong emotional component, after all. Even simple feelings like happiness or excitement can become erotic stimuli under certain circumstances…

The second wave of pleasure feels less overwhelming, because Satan was mentally ready for it. And he got a chance to examine the reaction of his organism more attentively. He notices a pattern, which leads him to believe that the source of these disturbances is…

His own backside. Satan shakes his head, his mind refuses to accept this information. It is indeed a delicate place with lots of nerve endings, but it can’t produce such… reactions on its own, without any stimulation.

Satan frowns and closes his eyes, examining his magical energy. Just as he thought, there are faint traces of the curse on him. The demon growls when he feels how invisible touches slowly move past his anal sphincters and get into his rectum. He has never understood why nature decided to make this particular place so sensitive. And now he has to endure such humiliation because of this. Satan’s pupils become narrow slits as he sinks into pure wrath.  

Satan snarls as he tries to ignore the distracting sensations and concentrate on the source of the curse. He can’t discover the essence of this spell or artifact, but he got something even better: a destination. Satan bares his fangs in something that almost looks like a victorious smile. His demon form makes him fast and efficient, so he jumps as high as he can and digs his claws into the brick wall, climbing up.  

Satan reaches the roof and starts running towards the source of the curse, imagining how he will rip out the intestines of the one who is behind all this. The sudden feeling of something wet inside him makes the demon trip off, but he grabs the side of the building just in time to save himself from a nasty fall. Satan roars, feeling his blood boil from fury. He jumps back on the roof, but this time he gets on all fours and starts sprinting as fast as he can.

The desire to tear apart the fool who dares to do this to him overtakes his brain. Satan can only concentrate on the magical trail and annoying boner that makes the way more difficult and longer than it should be. He doesn’t even realize where he’s sprinting. His eyes no longer see the road, as he feels something hot and heavy pushing past the tightened rings of muscle. Satan can only hear his own heartbeat and the blood pumping in his head as he gets closer to his goal.

Roof. Long jump. Concrete. Porch. Door. Fuck the door. Window. Jump…

The window shatters loudly, scratching the demon, but he couldn’t care less. Satan jumps straight at the target, dropping them on the floor and climbing on top of them. He swings his arm forward, ready to dig his long claws into the flesh…

But as he sees MC’s face, he redirects his hand to the side, scratching the floor right next to their face. They stare at each other in shock, unable to understand what is happening.

Satan silently turns his head around and sees some kind of artifact attached to MC’s hard dick. Even his monstrous face, covered in blood, and sudden attack didn’t kill their arousal. In fact, it seems they’re getting even harder…

Satan immediately looks back at MC, his eyes widening even more. MC just lays under him silently, their brain is completely shut down. Satan also has to gather all his strength to be able to think somewhat rationally. So, they find him… attractive? Even in his demon form? Even when he looks like… this? And it was them the whole time? They are… inside him?

A sudden moan from MC makes Satan almost jump to the ceiling like a scared cat. He only now realizes how fast his body relaxed as soon as he realized that MC was the cause of this… misunderstanding. His muscles stopped violently squeezing MC’s dick, so now the human must experience whole new sensations. Satan’s body feels it as well. Now, when his mind is not against the sudden intrusion, he starts to… enjoy it.

Satan tilts his head in curiosity, examining the human. His pupils slowly dilate as his shiny, green eyes absorb every hint of pleasure on MC’s face. His sharp, spiky tail carefully slides along MC’s body, stopping its tip near the artifact. It slowly wraps around the device, grabbing it tightly. Satan finds himself smirking when he sees the confused reaction of the human beneath him.

His tail gently moves the artifact up, along the hardened dick of MC. His claws uncontrollably rupture the floor near the human’s head as he feels the resumed movement inside. Satan and MC moan synchronically as the tail starts moving the artifact up and down, bringing them both immense pleasure.

Satan feels the human’s hands on his hips. Their trembling fingers attempt to unzip his pants and get to his dick. It takes them several tries, but they prevail in the end. MC starts massaging Satan’s cock, pumping it to the pace of their thrusts into the artifact. The demon growls in approval and satisfaction, quickening the movements on his tail.

The tempo of the pushes becomes intense and uncontrollably rough. Satan doesn’t dare put his hands or lips on the human, fearing to injure them with his sharp claws and fangs. MC doesn’t have such a problem, though, so they use this advantage to tease the mighty demon. Satan grumbles, but it feels too good, so he allows MC to do everything they want.

It doesn’t take long for them to reach their peak. Satan comes on top of his human, shivering with his whole body. He inhales deeply the smell of sex and pleasure that fills the whole room. Satan can’t hold in a soft purr as he settles on top of MC, not intending to get up anytime soon.

…Later that day, when Satan decided to finally release MC, they both visited the infamous alley. Bodies were nowhere to be seen, but they found a completely healthy cat, who ate all the treats they brought. It seems, the Devildom’s magic treats cats even kinder than it’s described in books. And demolishes everyone who tries to disturb the peace, one way or another.

Asmodeus

Today is a big day. Asmo has been chasing this opportunity for several months. He finally became the new face of Goetia Cosmetics. This company primarily specializes in hair products, but after a recent rebranding, they decided to start releasing makeup kits. It was a huge deal ever since they announced it, and every model, influencer, and actor wanted to be the ambassador of the new cosmetic line.

Asmodeus wasn’t so desperate, of course. Well, at least he hid it very well. In truth, he wanted this job just as much as everybody else. It was quite overhyped, true, and he totally understood it. But even MC, who wasn’t very knowledgeable about the fashion world of the Devildom, heard about this advertisement campaign. The second MC mentioned Goetia Cosmetics in a casual conversation with him, Asmodeus knew that he couldn’t let some second-rate model steal the spotlight. Not when MC had their eyes on this campaign.

The only problem was that Goetia Cosmetics didn’t want to hire well-established and popular celebrities. They were looking for a new face, someone fresh and unique. So they dared to refuse Asmo when he graciously offered his services.

But Asmo was in the business for too long to let this little unpleasant episode stop him. So, after a couple of polite, professional meetings and death threats, the company quicklyunderstood how foolish it was to refuse the most beautiful and popular demon in the whole Devildom. They even raised the fee for modeling in their campaign after Asmo semi-publicly assumed that they were looking for a new face purely to pay less to a presumed young and gullible model.

But Asmo is already regretting his decision to join this campaign. Deadlines are always brutal in this sort of business, but this is a new level of incompetence. Asmodeus sighs, checking his look in the mirror one last time. The company managed to do wonders from a marketing standpoint. But when it came to creating the actual material for the campaign, it became clear that the people in charge weren’t ready for a project of such scale. Deadlines were moved and missed multiple times on each stage of the project, and now they’ve reached a critical point. His photos were supposed to be published long ago, but they didn’t even start shooting them.

So now, it seems like the whole photoshoot will last for only one day. Asmo has no right to make a single mistake, he can’t feel ill or tired. He needs to deal with it like always, professionally.

Even if he feels suspiciously pleasant sensations in the area of his butthole. Asmo sighs once again, not sure if he should be pissed off or happy. MC chose literally the worst time to find the little present Asmo left for them. Asmodeus thought that it would make for a thrilling little game. He had no doubts about who would be in MC’s sexual fantasies. So he waited. And waited. And waited. But MC took their sweet time.

Okay, Asmodeus didn’t explain what this device was made for, and he simply left it in MC’s bedroom as a surprise. Maybe he chose a not so obvious spot, but still. MC should’ve figured out what this thing does long ago. And they finally did it. Fantastic.

“Mr. Asmodeus, sir. We’re starting in five minutes. Are you ready?” A little, round demon with impressive horns squeaks at Asmo, trembling slightly.

“Yes.” Asmo simply responds, wincing as MC’s fingers gently penetrate his hole. The little demon decides that Mr. Asmodeus doesn’t want to be disturbed, so they quickly run away.

Asmo examines his face in the mirror, wondering whether he’ll manage to hide his growing erection and unavoidable moans, sitting under the spotlight in front of several cameras. He’s quite good at being sneaky and masking naughty activities in public. But this is too public for his liking.

MC’s fingers gently play with his hole and move deeper, no doubt feeling Asmo’s warmth inside the artifact. They’re taking their sweet time again; they clearly don’t intend to finish in the next five minutes. Such delicious torture. Asmo smiles softly, teasingly squeezing the fingers with his muscles…

“Mr. Asmodeus, sir! We’re ready to start!” The same round demon returns, interrupting Asmo’s thoughts. Have five minutes already passed? Preposterous. So he was glued to the mirror this whole time, lost in the sensations from MC’s skilled fingers. A new wave of rumors about Asmo’s narcissism will certainly start after this, but he couldn’t care less.

Asmo straightens up and pridefully walks towards the chair on which he’ll spend the next several hours. At least he doesn’t have to advertise clothes, only the makeup on his face. He crosses his legs and casually places his hands in the area of his groin, attempting to hide his quite visible erection.

A lovely makeup artist runs towards him, fixing the last minor details on his face before the photoshoot starts. This is the exact moment MC chooses to apply some lube inside the artifact, making Asmo shiver and passionately breathe out on the verge of a moan right into the makeup artist’s face. Needless to say, the artist runs away immediately, blushing and stumbling. Well, at least the whole predicament is entertaining. But Asmo needs to control himself better to avoid harassment lawsuits.

And MC definitely doesn’t make it easier for him. He feels how their hard dick thrusts inside, going all the way in in one motion. The camera clicks right in front of Asmo’s face, capturing all the little details. The demon clenches his fists, doing his best to maintain a joyful smile, but it’s hard when MC immediately takes the crazy pace and pushes inside him at tremendous speed. Asmo is well aware of how mind-blowing his ass can be. He’s the Avatar of Lust, after all. But he never knew he would wish to be a little less perfect.

Because MC on the other side simply loses their mind, ramming the artifact with all their might. Asmodeus has to utilize every last piece of his acting skills to not show what he actually feels. He desires to spread his legs and take the whole length of MC’s dick, over and over. He wants to milk the damn thing, absorbing every last drop of MC’s cum. He wishes he could whimper and scream from pleasure as loud as he wants.

But he calmly sits on the chair, politely smiling and obediently turning his head 10 degrees to the side, so that the lighting illuminates his features better, just as the photographer wants it. Asmo’s boner leaves prominent wet stains on the fabric of his pants. He can feel it as he tries to stop his legs from shaking.

Asmo feels MC coming inside him, holding in a sigh of relief and smiling more brightly than ever. Finally, he gets a chance to take a break. Maybe he’ll even manage to make the boner go away if he concentrates on the photographer’s large pimple, which shines provokingly on his nose.

But the bright smile instantly disappears, as he feels MC going for the second round. Such stamina is quite admirable, but not in this situation.

“Asmo? What happened?” The photographer worryingly asks, noticing the disappearance of the smile.

“…Nothing. Please, continue.” Asmo smiles once again, bracing himself for a very long photoshoot.

…The campaign was a tremendous success, despite all the little problems during the production period. Asmodeus managed to make a ton of high-quality photos for the ad. But there was one particular picture that was used the most and became the official photo of the whole campaign.

That photo pictured Asmo’s most genuine and happiest smile the world has ever seen. It was the exact moment when, after several hours of sweet torture and several rounds of getting his ass destroyed by MC’s dick, Asmodeus gave up and let himself come right in front of the whole filming crew and a dozen cameras. All while keeping his cheerful smile on. Because that’s what being a professional means.

Part 1 (Lucifer, Mammon, Levi) Part 3 (Beel, Belphie) Part 4 (Diavolo)

P.S. The art doesn't belong to me, it's an official art from Shall We Date: Obey Me! (The Mysterious Box card)

[specialagentartemis]

#I think some of you will never be satisfied #and just want an excuse to keep pretending that inaction is the height of moral purity #so that you don’t ever have to actually do anything (tags via @tearlessrain)

This is about politics but also makes me think of what I disliked so much about Becky Chambers's Monk and Robot series. This wasn't so bad in book 1 but was very bad in book 2. The idea that inaction is the height of moral purity, that observing is all you should ever be asked to do, that having strong opinions and convictions causes conflict and it's better to not have strong opinions or convictions about anything for the sake of community harmony. That not ever actually doing anything is the Desirable State Of Being. It was pervasive through the book, which... make it unpleasant to me that the book is held up as so hopeful and heartwarming and good.

A Psalm For The Wild-Built was nice as a science-fantasy parable about the value of rest, but A Prayer for the Crown-Shy took that to the extreme of valorizing inaction. The main character's religion (the only religion on the planet, apparently?) makes no demands of its adherents' behavior in any way except to observe and appreciate the world. There are multiple parts of the planet where in fact humans may not go because human presence would ruin it. Not Going There is preferable to learning how to engage with nature in a responsible, reciprocal manner. Being fine either way with whatever happens and not making a fuss is treated as more mature and responsible than having strong opinions or convictions. Not doing something is preferable to pushing yourself to do it. Ensuring your own comfort and happiness is the most important thing, more so than anything else. There's no need to seek a greater purpose in life when you could just relax and have fun instead. The fucking fish thing.

The fish scene really exemplifies all of this in the most disturbing way. In one scene, the characters catch a fish and plan to eat it for dinner. But actually killing the fish would be way too unpleasant to do, so the fisherman says, "We let the air do that for us." The characters sadly, solemnly, and philosophically do their duty of observing the fish's slow and painful death by asphyxiation in the air, because doing nothing but watching and feeling sad keeps their own hands clean. They did nothing. The air killed the fish for them. And instead of killing the fish quickly and painlessly, they let it suffer in a drawn-out way and once it was dead felt morally satisfied in themselves for feeling sad about it. And the text presents this as a good, beautiful, morally pure thing that they did.

Because inaction is preferable to action. Because this is the morality tale held up as hopeful and necessary for our times. And the more I think about it the more I hate it.

[a-certain-romance]

You’re my favorite kind of night

A/N: Ah we meet again anon! I hope this one is to your liking as well, I had a lot of fun with it

Warnings: Smut written by a minor, heats, toys, oral (r!giving), reader is gn! but reader has a cock, mention of womb tattoo

Regular heats are unbearable alone. But heats with the genetics of a god? Pure torture. In proper Ei fashion, her solution to dealing with this is isolation. When the time comes, she ventures into a secluded cave-converted-into-a-hideout and battles her demons there alone. Her advisors have warned her of the potential dangers, arguing that her Euthimiya is more secure and manageable. But something about being so close to nature sits perfectly right with Ei, and she hasn’t run into trouble yet.

It’s the perfect routine, leave and come back with a fresh mind. Except nowadays, the clean-up crew finds every hideout to be more and more damaged than the last. Ei feels something stirring within her. Her toys and fantasies and seclusion are no longer working like they used to. There’s this new, primal urge that Ei is discovering and she can’t seem to put a lid on it. Her face gets flushed more easily, her pupils becoming blown out to an alarmingly degree, and there’s this new urge to be bred…Eventually, all her usual spots are destroyed and are no longer “safe” to care for herself in.

Hunching breathlessly over a map, Ei finds one last place that she has yet to explore. High in the mountains, undisturbed almost entirely because of the superstitions surrounding it. Townsfolk will say it’s the place where a dragon resides, but according to reports, it hasn’t been seen in many years. Ei will take anything at this point. Assuming it’s safe, she hikes her needy body up the landscape and once inside, makes herself comfortable. Her heat makes her movements more ragged, the entire trek up she can feel herself dripping onto her panties.

She sets up camp at the mouth of the cave. By dusk, she looks through a bag that contains an assortment of vibrators and dildos. In preparation for what’s to come, she tease her entrance with the tip of a 7 inch dildo. The girth is thicker than many would buy, but Ei always needs something more to satisfy her. Before she can push the head in, a low growl emits from deep within the cave.

You emerge from the shadows. Your half dragon nature sensed Ei’s arousal from a while away. It’s been so long since you’ve indulged in pleasure with another, and her scent alone is sending you into a tailspin. Her gaze lands on you, surprised that, for the most part, you show resemblance to a human. Minus the horns, tail, and a few scales that line your skin. Her heat is fully setting in, and all she can ask of you is “please?”

You nod, understanding her situation. You carry her deeper into the cave where your makeshift home resides; it’s much more comfortable than outside you argue. You lay her down against some blankets and kneel between her legs. Ei spreads them apart and you dip your head to enter her with your tongue. You feel corrupted by her: her moans ring echo around the cave, her scent fills your nostrils, and the taste of her intensifies. You wait to double your efforts, eventually pushing in as far as you can with deliberate strokes.

She grips your horns, using your face to grind at a steady pace. The stimulation has never felt so good. You don’t really mind her grip, but it does fuel your arousal more. Her touch is firm and it makes you a bit more sensitive. The horns always are, but right now they’re practically being man-handled. With a gasp, you greedily lick up all that she has to release.

Ei is trembling. You’re on the path to satisfying her completely, but she still needs more. Pinning her hands above her head, you line up your cock between her folds. Perhaps a womb tattoo would be sufficient after you fill her? There’s plenty of time to explore all options.

[azulsluver]

I saw ur requests were open and I'd like to see your thoughts on a masochist! Reader for bully au, what characters are most likely to enjoy it, those who dislike it, those who just bully them more for being 'weird', etc

（*＾ワ＾*）please and thank you!

(Sorry if this goes against ur guide lines or if you've already had an ask like this (^. .^) )

I’ll feed y’all :3 I have no words but I shouldn't be surprised people are into this..reactions are short bellow.

tw. yandere, bully!characters, dubcon relationships, mentions of bruises/blood/scars.

Those who are into it:

Ace

Brings out a whole new meaning of hurting you till you like it. Turns him on weirdly enough, you’re so willing to him that he finds it cute. Feeds into his delusions that you like him back.

Deuce

That must mean you like him back! He's so happy you're seeing things his way, now he can provide your needs as you do his. However I do see him holding back on the hurting you part, you love him so he'll try his best not to permanently scar you.

Leona

You’re finally learning your place. I guess he was trying to drill that type of reaction out of you. But you seem to really like it when the heel of his foot crushes your windpipe. Gurgling with a needy whimper.

Jade

He likes it, a lot. Your expressions to your reactions. You do as he pleases when hurt, actively trying to get away but can’t help your sick desire to be cut open. Viewed and manhandled like some object.

Idia

Filling up his wildest fantasies. He’s practically drooling over your tearful eyed face, but you’re clearly into it. Gives him an ego boost and makes him 10x an asshole. Slut shames you for being so shameful, have you no respect?

Lilia

This is surprising. Lilia has dealt with many people who enjoy getting harmed over the littlest of things. You like getting your hair pulled? Litters of marks and bruises over your body? How far can you go?

Trey

He’s held back, this brings out his more sadistic tendencies now that he understands what he’s getting in to. You want it to hurt, and he can provide that. Because you’re providing him a free stress ball, something he can use without worrying it’ll run away.

Cater

That’s cute. Super cute. At first his instinct was to belittle you for liking it. But he’s getting the bigger picture. You love it, you love how much he hurts you and your little feelings. And he so too grows on it.

Ruggie

Less trouble. Makes more fun for your little secret relationship. You’re the perfect thing for Ruggie to relieve on without grudgingly saying no. Because you want him to mount you and tear open the scars on your thighs.

Rook

You’ve never seen Rook this happy. He’s testing out all the ways to get a reaction out of you, the camera clicking on your sweaty and ruined face. He’s sure to break your body and rebuild it once again.

Those who dislike it:

Floyd

Why? Floyd expected a crying and shriveling response, but you’re blushing and desperate under his shoe. It’s cute, sure, but he wants a raw reaction of pain. You’re not giving him what he wants and it’s annoying.

Jamil

Like Floyd he expected you to beg for him to stop. Not moan and beg for more. He’s not purely against it but it ruins his fantasy to hurt the innocent that’s in front of him.

Sebek

Disgusting. Sneering, have you no shame, remorse or dignity left? Sebek bullies you to break you down, not have the pleasure to satisfy your need of pain. Go find someone else for that.

Jack

Confused. You’re showing him another reason on why he shouldn’t help you at this point. Why love getting hurt? Finds it degrading on your end.

Azul

What normal person enjoys having their confidence and ego stripped just to get their back stepped on? Like Jack he thinks you’re embarrassing for stooping this low. Honestly you deserve whatever plans they have for you.

Epel

Not what he was expecting. Pisses him off because he doesn’t want you to enjoy it. You’re supposed to not like it, it feels insulting to him and makes him throw more of a fit.

Vil

Have some class. People are watching and you’re easily letting yourself go just by a slap. He might not like it but he will continue to harm you. Don’t you like it? So don’t stop him when he’s bashing your head on the table.

Those who are unsure:

Kalim

Conflicted if he should enjoy the fact you're returning his love or that it's another way to get out of punishment. You being a masochist amuses him yet there's a gut feeling that he's all too eager to please. This relationship might actually work well with, there is no other reason to brutal hurt you when you're being so good.

Malleus

Did he do something wrong to get this reaction? Not expecting it, so it’s all new. Malleus would somewhat continue to berate you only because you beg for more. Who knows, maybe he’ll get the idea and feed into your desires.

Riddle

I feel like this would genuinely stop Riddle from bullying you. He doesn’t like it but not against it? He’s unsure of himself. Personally think his behavior is ok because he’s teaching you a lesson but you enjoy it…

Silver

Help this poor man. Explaining to him that you want him to physically harm you would freak him out. Probably runs away from you.

[mythicamagic]

May I ask why you like Sukuna so much? Don't get me wrong, I love him too, he reminds me of Yang from Piofiore, but I thought you would be more attracted to Gojo or Geto? 🤭

Thank you for the excuse to yap, anon! Talking about my biases is one of my favourite things to do.

I guess my answer can be summed up with three points:

Sukuna is hot - I like his tattoos and his true form satisfies my monster romance cravings

Sukuna is charismatic

Intelligent villains make brain go brrr.

To elaborate, when JJK first came out I did simp a bit for Gojo because of his eyes and white hair. It wasn't really anything other than shallow - hey, he's pretty.

(I've never been a Geto girlie, I respect those who are, but I haven't felt anything toward him other than sympathy for his breakdown or apathy toward him becoming a cult leader type. He's aight.)

When Sukuna was first revealed I found him entertaining but wrote him off as purely insane. Fun to watch but nothing interesting. This changed in episode 4.

That episode showed his charisma tbh. An insane villain is only fun to watch passively, that or they become annoying. A truly personable villain is one that lives comfortably by enjoying what they want to do but also demonstrating intelligence and cunning. Guys like Sukuna and Yang are my favourite type of villain because they're so incredibly selfish they seek to assuage their boredom via entertainment. They thrive in violence that isn't targeted or hateful, just pure enjoyment. Putting aside the murder part- as someone who is incredibly meek and anxious irl, those characters appeal to me because they thrive unapologetically. Their ugliness is embraced and celebrated.

From a purely simping standpoint- Someone like Nanami is the greenest flag you've ever seen. That man would take care of you and love you. 10/10 you should marry, he's perfect. However, for someone like me, that perfection would make my imperfections feel worse.

Characters like Sukuna basically remove that because they're reveling in their own fun. I think to really enjoy them is to remove your own ego from the equation in a way- because these men will not cater to you emotionally. Yang is there for pleasure, Sukuna is there for entertainment, ect.

However in this way - you can kind of find vindication through them too. Liliana grew into herself more by becoming Yangs woman. She lost her freedom but gained it in other ways by experiencing sexual liberation and the darker aspects of the world- living in it and adapting. I figure life with Sukuna would be like that too in some AU where he wouldn’t automatically kill you.

I find Sukuna the most interesting character in JJK because he's centered and intelligent even as he revels in chaotic destruction. He's well read and has a history that gives him a tangible presence. He's strong but playful, cruel but absent of hatred for his opponents in a way that feels almost respectful even as they're fighting to the death (with the exception of Itadori).

A lot of what he is ticks my boxes. I expect Scar from Wuthering Waves will also scratch my itch for this type of villain too once we know more about him.

Er so yeah...take your pick anon haha. Simple answer: Sukuna is a cool villain, and I like to watch him have fun (not excusing anything he does but I trust your media literacy enough to understand that)

Complicated answer for simping: something, something, female empowerment fantasy through being allowed to be the worst version of yourself with a villain, thus achieving liberation from societal constraints.

[otomiyaa]

Profile Tag Game 💕

Hello - Lol hi I'm Ginny and this is a fun something I was about to do on my previous blog, and I remembered it! So I decided to still do it here. It's a random self introduction based on genshin impact character profiles! Maybe even a better fit for me to do it on this new account.

Chat: Tickling - I may have said this before, but I am a very bad tickler. In fact, I can barely remember tickling anyone properly so far in my life. I've done some quick pokes and scribbles, but I just can't go much further than that. Everything I wrote in my fics and hcs is just pure creativity and imagination. Not experience.

When It Rains - I get all cozy when I'm indoors and it's raining, like right now! But when I have to go out, it can make me frown and whine a lot.

When It Snows - I hope I don't fall down... I've got quite a number of experiences already, of slipping and falling in the snow.

Good Night - It's almost 1 AM. I should probably go to sleep. Ah, I'm too wide awake at night these days. And too tired during mornings hahaha.

About Me: Language - I speak Dutch, English, and Japanese and in all languages I sometimes struggle with formality levels at work. Especially when Japanese people call me by my first name without 'san', I am like..!!!! It's always a challenge to find the perfect balance of not being too impolite, and not being too formal and distant. I get the feeling I worry more about language and formality aspects than others.

Something to Share: Subscriptions - I've actually got way too many subscriptions running - Cinema, Spotify, Netflix, HBO Max, Amazon Prime, Disney+, Nintendo Switch Online, and Just Dance+. I kinda pay too much for things I don't always need, but I do need them a little and can't get myself to cancel any, even when they shamelessly increase their prices. Does it make me a money disaster? Hm.

My Hobbies: Journaling - My friends and I all have bullet journals and working on those while chatting and listening to some music is one of the most calming and satisfying things in life for me.

My Troubles - Needing a new laptop so I can play games like The Sims and Honkai Star Rail, but my current laptop isn't so old yet. Also, the Taylor Swift store doesn't ship to the Netherlands, I cry.

Favorite Food - Sushi, bibimbab, spaghetti with meatballs.

Least Favorite Food - Cheese.

About @ticklygiggles - On June 16, 2016, Mia sent me a message on Tumblr, starting a conversation. I messaged her back, and from that moment on we just... talked daily, grew closer and closer, watched anime together, wrote fics together, called and sent voice messages, and last month for the first time we FINALLY were able to play genshin together (Mia made a new acc because we weren't on the same server, huhu dedication girl). We did the Heart Island thing in Mia's world.

About @ragewerthers - We talked about it recently but our friendship started so smoothly and sudden. I was reminded it was because of Ragewerthers getting randomly shadowbanned on Tumblr, as well as our mutual interest in the soccer anime Days, Final Fantasy XV and Minecraft.

Tagging some fellow genshin fans @ticklygiggles @wertzunge @lovelynim @shy-lee-chu @eliankrios @xsezzie @kusuguricafe @fuckparty and ofc anyone else who would like to do it:) Feel free to add more / use other lines or do literal voice-overs! I'll stick to just text hehe.

[shyvioletcat]

A/N: So my dear friend @mariamuses​ came up with a wonderful prompt (this one right here) that really took hold of my imagination and wouldn’t let go. I’ve been working on it for a while but finally got around to getting it done. @rowaelinprompts​ another one for the list. 

CW: A whole lot of banter, swearing and smut.

~~~~~

If Rowan Whitethorn was the main character in a novel, Aelin would most definitely be the antagonist in his tragic story. 

Their relationship hadn’t started smoothly, they had metaphorically been at each other’s throat from the moment they met. They were authors, both of them employed but the same publisher, and essentially rivals in every way. Rowan was an author of epic fantasy, the gritty you have to be fully awake to keep track of kind. Aelin wrote for the fantasy genre as well but her books were more of the romantic kind. There was a stigma attached to that and people like Rowan-holier-than-thou Whitethorn tended to look down their noses at such things. She wrote romantic fantasy, he wrote science fiction. They were at polar opposites on the literary scale.

The introduction had occurred in their publisher’s office. Aelin had gone in to renew her contract and Rowan had been in the office signing his first. They shared a manager and Fenrys had been very excited to introduce them. She had offered a charming smile and her hand, which to his credit Rowan had taken in a brief handshake. After that Rowan had barely given her a second glance. 

Aelin supposed that Rowan was just shy, and she tried over and over again to be friendly and get his attention. There were more than enough opportunities for it—the two of them were the shining stars of the fantasy world. They were always in on the big meetings together to organise release dates and press circuits. To keep the money flowing in smoothly the company usually alternated half yearly.

And it was unfortunate for him that there was very little in life that gave her as much joy as pissing him off did. He wasn’t all bad, their wits matched when they engaged in their battles of wills and he was devastatingly handsome. Maybe she was no better than the kid on the school yard picking on the person they liked because they didn’t know how to deal with their own feelings. Somewhere along the line, between the insane amount of grumpiness and quiet composure, Aelin had decided that she liked him. Like liked him. But that didn’t matter. Aelin could ignore all that for pure fun riling up Rowan Whitethorn gave her. It wasn’t entirely satisfying, but it was enough to keep her going. 

Today Rowan had to suffer through hours of it. The two of them were at a comic and pop culture convention; meeting, greeting and signing things for fans and for monetary gain. Seated next to each other it was all too easy to slip a comment over the few feet of desk between them. Or flick little bits of paper over that she took the time to roll into teeny tiny balls for a singular purpose amid the stream of fans. In fact one such fan had just left the signing table when a piece of Aelin’s ammunition hit Rowan’s cheek. That quietly enthusiastic book buyer was the last for that round and they would have about fifteen minutes until the next lot came through. 

He didn’t even flinch, he just sighed and clicked his pen, brushing the paper away with a casual hand. 

“Your fans are so much more boring than mine,” Aelin said, chin resting in her palm. 

“What?” Rowan asked flatly.

“Well, mine tend to go all out in their costuming,” Aelin replied. “Your’s

just put on a themed t-shirt and call it a day.” 

“Is that such a bad thing? It’s far more practical,” Rowan countered as he leant back in his chair. “They don’t have to worry about being the weird ones on public transport or having their boobs fall out of their tops.”

Aelin grinned. “Have you been paying special attention to the boobs on display?” 

Rowan didn’t answer but the blush on his was answer enough. 

“Well, well, well. It seems that my books have given you something to care about,” Aelin added.

“Stop it, I have not been looking… it's just a general observation,” Rowan insisted. 

“You’re welcome by the way.” Another ball of paper hit his face. 

This time Rowan sighed. “Aelin.” 

“Rowan.” Her voice was sickly sweet. 

He looked over at her and Aelin’s stomach flipped. He was too handsome today, all made up for the public. He’d shaved, and his hair was kept from falling into his eyes with just the right amount of product. It was such an unusual colour and not for the first time Aelin wished she could touch it. 

So caught up in her thoughts Aelin totally missed that Rowan had actually said something to her. 

“Hmm? Sorry I am just thinking about the poor unfortunate souls that have been ensnared by your sub par writing.” 

A familiar challenge flashed in his eyes and Aelin knew her little game was succeeding. 

“I was just saying it’s nice that your fans have so much fun with your work,” Rowan said.

“Wait, Mr Whitethorn, was that a compliment?” Aelin’s hand was on her chest like she might be about to swoon. 

He shook his head. “That was a compliment for your fans, not you. I’ll refrain from making a comment about their tastes in literature.”

Oh, he was ready to play now, Aelin thought to herself. 

“Insulting the fans is a little beneath you, don’t you think?” Aelin said, twirling her gold ink pen between her fingers. “They are our livelihood after all. I’m sure, despite how you feel about me, you wouldn’t wish for me to be destitute. You’re not that cruel.”

Rowan glanced down at his watch, probably checking for when the next lot of fans would start flooding through. “Of course not, a little humility wouldn’t go astray though.”

Aelin tipped back her head and laughed, when she was done she found Rowan looking at her, an odd look on his face. Not odd enough to dissuade her from her next comment. “You won’t have luck there.”

She could have sworn the corner of his mouth quirked up the smallest amount for the tiniest fraction of a second. “Why am I not surprised?”

Any further response was interrupted by an attendant letting them know it would only be a few minutes before the next round of signings would begin. Aelin smiled and nodded and waited for the blushing young person to turn around before she went through her pre-fan-meeting brush up. She fluffed out her loose hair, readjusted the straps of her dress. One of the knots at her shoulder was coming undone so she gave that a quick pull to tighten it. After that she took out the small mirror from her pocket to check her face. Everything seemed fine except for a loose eyelash. There were signs of commotion starting as the fans from the start of the line so Aelin snapped her mirror shut. Blatant vanity wasn’t good for her image, or something like that, according to her publicist. She’d have to get rid of the eyelash blindly. 

Aelin swept at her cheek, assuming it was gone, and put on her most charming of smiles giving those at the front of the line a quick wave. They tittered with excitement, copies of her books in their hands. Rowan’s fans, on the other hand, were far more subdued, but a few of them up the front were vibrating with nervousness. When they did sneak a glance in Rowan’s general direction Aelin gave them a smile and even a sly wink. Three of them blushed. 

“You missed it.” Rowan’s voice cut through her thoughts. 

“Hmm?” Aelin angled her chair so she faced him better. 

“Your eyelash, it’s still there.” 

She was surprised he’d been paying enough attention to her to notice the whole lash situation. Aelin swiped at her face again, fingertips dabbing along her cheek bone. 

“You’re completely missing it,” Rowan said. He scooted his chair over, nearly close enough that their knees touched, then he beckoned her with a hand. Aelin lent it, her breath catching as Rowan’s fingers touched her cheek. It was over in less than three seconds, and yet those few seconds without air were enough to make her completely breathless. He left his finger raised in front of her face and she spotted the offending eyelash on the tip of his finger. “Make a wish.” 

Aelin cocked her head, fighting a smile. This was straight out of one of her books, her debut novel in fact. The heroine and the soon to be love interest share a quiet moment amongst all the trials and danger that would eventually bring them together. It was sweet, and a turning point for those characters. There was no way Rowan would understand the significance of what he was doing. And that same peaceful outcome was highly unlikely in this situation. 

Playing along anyway, Aelin sucked in a breath to blow away the eyelash. Her wish wouldn’t be polite to voice in public, or to the man that it included. But when Aelin’s breath passed her lips she kept the vision of her and him very clear in her mind. Of her body pressed against the wall, Rowan’s hands holding her up by her thighs as her hands tugged at his hair, mussing it out of one perfection into another, and the heated kisses being pressed over every inch of uncovered skin. That scene right there—one she had thought of countless times, that was her wish. 

“What did you wish for?” Rowan asked, none the wiser over her depraved thoughts. 

Aelin tsked at him, shaking her head like she was annoyed at such a foolish question. “Rule one, you never say what you wish for out loud. Otherwise it won’t come true.”

He didn’t push it, instead he fiddled with the rolled sleeve of his shirt. That left Rowan’s tattoos on display—a design Aelin had traced over with her eyes numerous times. Something in the Old Language and she would be lying if she hadn’t thought about learning just so she could understand what is said. 

Footsteps and voices drew away Aelin’s attention and she turned to face the oncoming influx of fans. It was time to smile and put on a show. These were people who made her so successful, she owed them something. 

“Hi, how are you today?” Aelin said to the fan who rushed up, a shiny new book in their hand. “Shall I sign that for you?” 

That was essentially the same script Aelin used fan after fan. There were some variations when questions were exchanged. The fan in front of her at the moment had broken down in tears and Aelin had reached out to touch her hand, it only made her cry harder. Eventually the fan gathered herself enough to give a teary but very sincere thank you. Aelin grinned, giving a small wave, before movement in the corner of her eye redirected her attention. She peered over to Rowan’s desk, seeing that he was making a tally. 

“What are you doing?” She asked before she could stop herself. 

Rowan didn’t look at her, just clicked away the nib of his pen. “That’s going to tell me how many of your fans cried.” 

Aelin left out a short laugh. “You’ve been counting?”

“Had to find something to entertain myself,” Rowan replied. “She’s number eight, just for your information.”

“Maybe I should keep track of all your fans who flirt with you, I might need an entire notebook. Makes me think it’s not actually your writing that’s intrigued them. Whoever decided to put your photo on the back cover should get a cut of the money.” 

Rowan didn’t get a chance to reply because a pretty young woman wearing a t-shirt dedicated to one of his prominent characters approached his table. She gave him big starry eyes, her voice probably an octave higher than it needed it to be. To say Rowan was smiling might have been an exaggeration, but his face was pleasant. Aelin had her own fan to deal with so she missed whatever happened next in the interaction. When she glanced back at Rowan after sending that one away, he was still talking to the same woman. His elbows rested on the table as he looked up at her, smiling now. A real ‘you could see his teeth’ smile. 

Aelin’s gut twisted with jealousy. Not only was this woman flirting with him, but Rowan was flirting back. It would never be that way with her, he loathed her, hated her, the villain in his story. Any amiability they had at these things were short lived. By tomorrow the ice would reform under the cover of night and they would go back to the way they were.

Finally the fangirl left, throwing one last dazzling smile over her shoulder. Thankfully for Aelin’s own sanity, Rowan didn’t notice, he was too busy getting his desk back in order. 

“You know we don’t get paid to flirt with the fans, right? There’s no extra bonus for that,” Aelin threw at him, her voice sharper than it should have been. 

“She was flirting with me, I wasn’t flirting with her,” Rowan defended. 

“Yeah sure,” Aelin said, breaking up the conversation with another signing. “From where I sat, that looked a lot like flirting, so much so I ..would call it such.” 

Rowan sent off another of his fans with a signature before he turned to her. His green eyes pinned her in place, the unexpected intensity stunning her to utter stillness.

“Trust me, Aelin,” He gave a quick glance as he nodded for the next fan to come forward. “If I was flirting, you would know.”

Clearing her throat, Aelin took the book form yet another fan and signed her name. And she did, again and again. She hated that Rowan had got the upper hand on her, that he had been the one to ruffle her feathers. That was her job. She could feel the smugness radiating off him and in between smiles and fleeting hellos, Aelin was scrambling for a come back. 

When Aelin saw a small group of Rowan’s manly fans snigger at her fans and the adorable commitment they had taken to their love of her books, it came to her. 

“If you flirt as bad as you write…” Aelin muttered during a slight lull in signing, letting the comment fade out into the realm of interpretation. “You’re probably one of those male writers who creates one dimensional women whose ovaries tingle at the sight of a handsome man or boobs that move counter clockwise when they walk.”

“What the hell are you on about?” Rowan asked, conscious of his language as a particularly young fan walked up with his parent. 

“Female characters, Rowan. In particular, yours,” Aelin offered. 

Rowan’s laugh was humourless. “There’s only one way to find out for sure, Aelin.”

She ignored the way her name sounded coming from those full lips. “Never.” 

Aelin had declared numerous times that she had not read his books, she had sworn she never would. So she didn’t know for sure how Rowan wrote his female characters, regardless she wasn’t going to abandon her new line of attack. 

“I’ll start passing judgement on your faerie porn,” Rowan said to her, making the person who had just handed over a book snort.

Aelin signed her page viciously. Yes, her books were full of faeries, yes they had a lot of sex. There was nothing to be ashamed of about writing, reading and enjoying such things. The condescension and superiority that people held around romantic fantasy screamed of misogyny. As a predominantly female author community it wasn't at all surprising that the genre was looked down on. And faerie porn wasn’t necessarily a bad term, not when it was used lightly and lovingly, and by the right people. Rowan Whitethorn, with his know it all scientist and boring spaceships, was not one of those people. 

“A length as long as a forearm,” Rowan added. “Have you actually measured your forearm?”

Aelin couldn’t help it, she did look at her forearm, even subtly shifting it over so she could compare it to her body. She had never specifically compared a dick to a forearm but maybe she was prone to a little exaggeration. It was romance, it was fantasy, an extra few inches was a given. 

“Oh, please,” Aelin was glad that the end of the line was sight. “A huge penis is far more believable than a poorly contrived experiment gone wrong.”

“It’s science fiction,” Rowan said. 

“It’s fantasy,” Aelin shot right back. 

For a moment they just looked at each other, the challenge rising. If he wanted to play the euphemism game she would play. She was an expert. She had at least five alternatives for clit in her back pocket. 

“Feeling a little inadequate?” Aelin all but mocked in a sympathising and sweet voice. “I hear it's not size that matters.” 

Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “We’re not talking about this.” 

If that wasn’t just an invitation. 

Work prevented her from answering right away, interrupted by what she was here to do. This was going to pay for another fancy bookcase in her home office and maybe some books to fill it. 

“I would bet you wouldn’t even know where to find that bundle of nerves,” she taunted. “And if you did, you wouldn’t know what to do.”

In turn, Rowan was delayed by his own work, but she could see the tightness working in his jaw as he withheld his answer. She wondered what he was spending his money on. 

When he was done he lent an elbow on his table and once again Aelin found herself rooted in place by his stare. Not to use a cliche but it was the very definition of a heated stare. She was starting to contemplate whether or not Rowan really hated her, because when his eyes took a casual perusal over her she was most definitely having second thoughts. 

“Are you sure about that?” His voice was low and rough. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. It was unfair that he could so easily start unravelling her with just a few words.

A very bright Hi snapped Aelin out of her trance and she went back to her job. She was distracted through that signing, barely remembering who had offered up the book or what they looked like, because she couldn't shake the distinct feeling that Rowan had just been flirting with her.

Maybe she could get him to do it again. 

“That one spot is a thing of complicated wonder, not everyone has the skills,” Aelin said, she was a free woman now with her line ending. Rowan had a few more to go. “I would begin to wonder if the women in your books even have one.”

Rowan actually muttered a curse under his breath and gallantly recovered by the time one of his few remaining fans came up to the table. 

When he had a moment he replied. “At least I keep the growling to a minimum.”

“Don’t mock the growling, my readers love the growling,” Aelin defended. “It’s a crowd pleaser.”

The last few of Rowan’s fans handed their books over and he gave them his full attention. It wasn’t until they were gone that he faced her. “Is that how you write, Aelin? Cheap cliches and tropes please the populace?”

“Excuse me?” Aelin said, playfulness morphing into anger. How dare he insult her or her writing like that.

“Can’t handle when the tables are turned, Galathynius?” Rowan was entirely too smug for her to handle. 

Aelin wanted to storm off, but she still had a few more minutes to wait here in case there were any late comers. All she could do is glare, eyes narrowing at Rowan who was busy looking at something on his phone and dream of all the painful ways she could use that pen on him. Maybe she’d start with stabbing him in the hand, slow down his writing a bit. Noise drew her attention away and she saw a few more people walking over. Regardless, she took the opportunity to fire another non violent shot. 

“I don’t know why I expected anything else, Sci-fi is such a boys club. I wouldn't expect you to think for yourself and think outside the preconceived sexist ideas against female authors. Romance, no matter the sub genre, is valid and worthy just as much as any other form of writing.”

Rowan looked mildly shocked, then affronted. “I never—“

A throat clearing had Rowan stopping, he looked down awkwardly and then to the fan who handed him a book. He stumbled over his introduction but recovered quickly and slipped on that charming mask. That’s all it was, a mask. He was a bastard, a pious, narrow minded bastard. It was very unfortunate Aelin was obsessed with him.

Rowan had a pair of women fawning over him and suddenly Aelin was filled with longing for that to be her. Not gushing over his work, because she hadn’t read it wouldn’t know where to start. But to be able to appreciate him in public. Not bottling it all up to the point that she felt like she was going to explode. 

Despite the fan in front of him, Rowan said, “You really think I’m one of those assholes that degrades their female characters to pandering damsels with no depth or purpose other than wives or the murdered?”

With no real evidence, Aelin just shrugged but a fan came to his defence. “He actually gave a really great interview talking about the depiction of women in media.”

“On how to do it wrong,” Aelin muttered, but each word was clear.

Rowan’s pen snapped down on the table but that was the only sign of his irritation as he thanked and said goodbye to the fan that had gallantly come to his defence. What Aelin had done was highly unprofessional and she just hoped the fan wouldn’t take to social media about it. She didn’t like her chances. 

The last of the stragglers came through and Aelin signed her last book, sending the fan off with a genuine smile and an enthusiastic wave, just waiting for the official declaration for this to be over. 

“Okay, you guys are done,” the attendant that was directing them around said, giving Aelin’s table a definitive ending of signing knock. 

“Thanks for that,” Aelin said brightly, thanking the gods this was over and she’d have some space to breathe. She went to offer some lighthearted celebratory banter but Rowan was already gone. He must have dashed out as soon as the attendant came over, his chair was still spinning. 

Aelin followed, eager to be out of the public eye. She’d messed up, and she should apologise, even if it meant swallowing her pride and admitting she was wrong. That left a very sour taste in her mouth and she sighed. She could do this, sorry wasn’t a hard word to say. 

Walking down the deserted hallway towards the VIP rooms, Rowan was easy to spot. This part of the convention centre was closed off from the public, only guests and workers were allowed back here. He turned a corner, right to where their dressing rooms were. With the need for solitude Aelin almost passed Rowan’s door to her own but she needed to do the right thing.

She hesitated at his door. Maybe. Aelin stepped back and raised her fist. Yes. 

Her knuckles were about to hit the cheap laminate when the door opened. Rowan was looking at his phone so nearly bowled her over. It took her touching his chest for him to notice her blocking the way. His eyes started on her hand and tracked up her arm to her face within a matter of seconds. He was most definitely disappointed to see her. 

“Hellas take me, what?” He snapped, taking a step back into his room. 

“Hello to you, too,” Aelin said sardonically, matching his mood. “I didn’t realise my mere presence was so offensive. Can’t say it’s unexpected.”

Rowan cursed under his breath before looking right at her. “How else do you expect me to react after you’ve spent gods know how long assuming the worst about me and my work? You’re judging me on my books which you haven’t even read.” He paused like he was considering his words. “I’ve read yours, all of them. And I will happily admit to everyone that they’re good, but you can’t afford me the same courtesy. I don’t understand why you have this gods-damned vendetta against me.’

For a long moment Aelin just stood there stunned, just processing the words he’d said. Then in her shocked state, it was her stubbornness that won out. “Nice of you to let me know you degraded yourself to the level of reading faerie porn, I hope it wasn’t above your reading level.”

She shouldn’t have said it, because Rowan got mad, unexpectedly mad. This wasn’t the playful banter induced irritation that Aelin liked to rile out of him. This was real anger, so fierce and sudden it left Aelin feeling flustered and way out of her depth. 

Rowan let out a short bitter laugh. “You know what, Aelin? I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of this.”

“Just admit—” Aelin had to clear her throat. “Just admit your institutionalised misogyny and distaste for my books. That should excuse you like every other man who can’t admit they’re wrong, you absolute asshat.”

“I don’t understand what I did to deserve your contempt, I’ve never claimed to laud my writing prowess over you.” He was fuming now. “If you want to talk about people admitting you were wrong, you might want to start with yourself.”

Aelin scoffed. “I think you’re threatened, and like any threatened animal you’re lashing out. Just like your writing, your words now won’t be enough.”

Rowan actually took a step back and ran an agitated hand through his hair. “You know what, I’ve had enough of your princess act. You’re a fantastic author but thanks to nepotism you’ve had to work nowhere near as hard as I have. Daddy’s money supported you, you can’t deny it. I wasn’t allowed that kind of time or freedom to hone my craft.”

Anger stoked, Aelin wouldn’t, couldn’t back down. “How dare you. How dare you insinuate once again my writing is so inferior to yours just because I don’t fit the idea of the tortured author. Although it's a relief to finally and openly admit your halfassery in your own work.”

“I never—” Rowan snapped. “You know what, fuck you!” 

The swearing took Aelin by surprise, flustered her and apparently scrambled her brain because she had no control or coherency over the words that flew from her mouth of their own accord. “No, you fuck me!” 

If Aelin had possessed lesser restraint she would have clamped a hand over her mouth to try and cram those damning words back in. Instead she just stood there dumbstruck, Rowan did too. Then his whole demeanour changed. The shock morphed into confident determination, like he was piecing together a riddle and had come to a sudden realisation. His green eyes locked onto her’s, taking the steps he needed so that he was leaning a hand on the doorway, close enough that Aelin had to look up at him. 

For a moment the only sound Aelin heard was the beating of her heart on her own ears. Then Rowan lent in just that fraction closer. 

“Do you want me to?” He asked, whisper soft but rough in a way that made Aelin’s gut twist. 

“I—“ her throat was so dry that her voice scratched it and caught there.

A smirk tilted Rowan’s lips, and he became handsome in a dangerous way. “Is this the truth of it, Aelin? You want to fuck me so bad that tease and taunt just to ease your frustrations? How’s that going for you?”

Aelin swallowed, hoping her voice would return with some amount of confidence so that she could admit to the contrary convincingly. “Don’t flatter yourself, Whitethorn.” 

Rowan stood a little taller. “That’s not a no.”

Oh gods.

Thoughts floundering, Aelin was looking for something to rescue her from the situation she had marched herself into. Now Rowan had called her out, and somehow he was able to see through the lies she tossed his way. 

“Have we argued enough that you’ll go back to your dressing room and smile at yourself in the mirror as you come up with clever little insults for our next round?” Rowan asked, reaching out and sweeping her hair over the knot of her dress that sat on her shoulder. “Or should we keep going and see what happens next?”

The gesture had almost been sweet, innocent, but then his thumb dragged down the side of her neck. 

“You’re teasing.” Aelin hated how breathless her voice sounded. 

His featherlight touch ceased, his hand withdrawing to a safer distance. “Am I?”

Mala burn her, what was happening right now? All of Aelin’s wit had deserted her; she stood there, no retort or scathing remark to put Rowan back in his place. The only thought that was rattling around in her empty head was that maybe Rowan wanted this too. It made her senses come alive, all too keenly focused on the man in front of her. Aelin could scent the fresh edge of his cologne, her eyes roved over him without shame or reserve. The brief touch he had given her wasn’t enough, and without her permission she found herself arching ever so slightly towards him in the wish for more. She wanted to feel his hands on her body— wanted to taste him.

“Well, Aelin. What’s it going to be?” Rowan no longer lent on the doorway, standing straight he just looked at her expectantly. 

The next move was her’s to decide. 

He’d outplayed her, Aelin hated it.

“You’re a bastard,” she half mumbled, all her usual arrogance nowhere to be found, she tried to save some face by putting a hand on her hip. An abrasive and hostile stance.

Rowan wasn’t discouraged. “We’ll see if I can change your mind about that.”

Aelin felt her face scrunch in confusion. “What is that suppose—oop!”

Rowan yanked Aelin into his dressing room by the brave arm on her hip, far enough that he could close the door and then press her into it. When she had time to catch her breath, Aelin found her hands bunched in the front of his pristine button up shirt. Their chests heaved in unison, neither of them making the move to take it further. 

“Rowan,” was the only word Aelin could manage, the only thing in her head. 

In response to his name he bowed closer, their mouths almost touching. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Rowan asked. “I need you to say it before I give you what you want.”

Aelin couldn’t say it, it was like the final barrier in admitting she was wrong. So instead she went to close the distance herself, but to her gut sinking disappointment Rowan drew back. 

“I’ve read your books, Aelin. I know you know how to use words,” Rowan made sure his know-it-all tone came through.

She was stuck, trapped and wanting so badly. And from the satisfied smile on his face, Rowan knew it. 

“Yes,” she predicted the insistence that would come from Rowan’s mouth and clarified. “Yes, kiss me.”

Surprisingly he sighed in relief. “Thank the gods.” 

Aelin gasped as Rowan closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to her mouth, then moaning as he didn’t hold back. That small sound was enough to snap just a little bit more of Rowan’s restraint and he crowded her fully against the door, pressing their bodies together. It felt close to heaven having his hard body on her’s like this with how perfectly they aligned. When Rowan’s hands dragged from her back down to her waist Aelin arched into him, bringing them that much closer. He held her against him with strong and insistent hands. 

“Is this all you wanted, princess?” Rowan asked, blessing her lips with another heady kiss. “Or did you really mean what you said?”

Aelin had two choices. She could hold to her stubbornness and pride, twist the door handle somewhere behind her and flee. Or… she could stay and have Rowan do exactly what she had told him to do. 

“Rowan I—“ she got distracted when Rowan kissed down her neck. “I want you to.”

“Want me to what, exactly?”

This was Rowan’s revenge. For every insult and teasing word that Aelin had thrown at him for years, he was dragging this out. Pulling drawn out confirmations and pleas just to see her squirm. He was going to make her say the words just for spite. It just made Aelin want it—him—more.

“Fuck me, Rowan,” Aelin said, a hand im Rowan’s hair to bring his lips closer. “I want it.”

He growled, something right out of her books, a sound low in his throat that had the blood in Aelin’s veins heating. Rowan abandoned his words, and let his actions speak now. He hooked a hand under her knee, spreading her legs wide enough that he could press between them. Once again, all Aelin could do was gasp as she felt the length of him press into her core, grinding against her. She still had a hand fisted in Rowan’s shirt and she gripped and twisted it tighter, moaning as her hips began rolling in time with his. 

Rowan was kissing her like he could swallow the sounds. It felt divine, and tortuous and not enough. She might have voiced it aloud because the next moment Rowan had a hold of her other thigh and was carrying her across the room. Aelin just looked at him, a little stunned by the brazen act as she was settled on a flat, hard surface. 

“You alright there?” Rowan asked with a kiss to her cheek and then the corner of her mouth. 

“Uh-huh,” Aelin nodded. “Just… unexpected.” 

“We’ll add it to the list for today,” was all Rowan said before he was kissing her again. 

With Aelin now seated on a steady surface, the bench below the mounted mirror, it gave Rowan’s hands newer freedoms. They started on her ass and then roamed back to her waist. Aelin could thank her dress for that attention. It had a flat panel that cinched in her waist above the skirt. The waist piece was cut to scoop under her breasts, almost like a corset, the top of the dress tying in knots at her shoulders. What that did was create a perfect path for Rowan’s hands to follow. 

Aelin looked into Rowan’s green eyes as she felt his hands move higher, stopping at the seams at the underside of her breasts. His eyes darkened as he took care in running his thumb along the line of the layered fabric, but it was enough sensation to fill her with a new wave of need. Her fingers went to the buttons of Rowan’s shirt, swiftly undoing it to, exploring the fevered skin beneath. 

With her bare hands on his skin Rowan leaned closer, drawn to her, and he tipped her face with his chin so that he could kiss her. His tongue ran along her bottom lip, asking for permission. Aelin gave it willingly, her tongue doing the same. She wanted more, she wanted everything. 

Just as eager, Rowan’s hands skimmed over Aelin’s breasts, heavy and nearly aching beneath the fabric. She wanted to protest at the lack of attention he paid them, she might have if Rowan’s tongue not flicked at the roof of her mouth at just that moment. But then his fingers stopped at the knots at her shoulders. 

“These have been distracting me all day,” Rowan said in between one kiss and the next. “Can I?”

The way Rowan asked for permission despite the frenzy of lust they found themselves was touching, but Aelin wasn’t going to bother to start a conversation about it and nodded. She could feel one of the knot’s loosening under Rowan’s fingers. It would have been easier to just slip it over her shoulder but what he’d said made her let him be. And if he kept kissing her like this along with that distraction, who was she to complain?

The pull of fabric on her skin disappeared entirely and Aelin knew he’d accomplished his task. Rowan let the fabric fall and when his hand met utterly bare skin he groaned, hand splaying on her collarbone. 

“I knew it,” he hissed onto the skin of her neck, his hand travelling lower in time with his kisses. 

“Huh?” Aelin managed, focus zoning on what his hand was doing. 

Rowan’s body shuddered as he cupped her bare breast, delicately catching the peak of it between his forefinger and thumb. “That it was just your dress holding these up.” His idle hand went to her ass and he squeezed. “Are you wearing anything under this thing?”

Aelin kissed just under Rowan’s ear so he could hear her whisper. “Why don’t you find out.”

In truth, Aelin did have underwear on but right now she was regretting not wearing something a little nicer. All it was was a beigey coloured thong, made for all day comfort. Not for an unexpected hookup with her authorial enemy. Rowan didn’t seem to mind though, his hand had travelled down her body and under the hem of her skirt. His fingers were tracing patterns over her thigh, inches away from finding out for himself what was hidden under her dress. All the while he pinched and rolled her nipple between his fingers, keeping her on edge. Finally his finger traced over the soft cotton of her underwear, starting on her hip and following it along the crease of her thigh. Her hips jolted forward when a finger skimmed over her clit, then lower.

Rowan groaned, resting their foreheads together as a knuckle dragging back and forth over her folds. “You’re soaked.”

The touching started to become the best kind of agonising, and Aelin was losing her patience. “Get on with it.”

“Aelin, that’s not you get what you want,” Rowan taunted, but his words didn’t match his actions. 

Not in the slightest as he pulled her underwear to the side and pushed a thumb on her clit. 

“Gods,” Aelin breathed, clinging to the man in front of her like a lifeline. “More.”

Rowan rubbed a slow circle around her clit and kissed her. What he was doing was driving her insane. Every touch was bliss, because Rowan gods-damned Whitethorn knew exactly what he was doing. He kept her right on the edge, playing with her to the point of just ready to break. Aelin reached for his belt, her hands weren’t gentle as he tugged the buckle loose and moved onto the fly of his pants. She could feel his hard cock straining against the dark denim. That broke the last of Aelin’s resolve—she was tired of playing. 

They both seemed to snap into a frenzy, Aelin yanking his shirt off his shoulder as Rowan attacked the other knot that held up the deep V of her neckline. Her chest was fully exposed now and the skirt of her dress was bunched at her waist. As Aelin looped her fingers into the belt loops of Rowan’s pants he pulled something from his pocket and slammed it on the bench beside her. They both worked to push his jeans down, Aelin making sure that his briefs went with them. 

He was glorious, her fantasies about him didn’t do him justice. There was a male kind of pride on his face when Aelin looked up at him with what might have been awe. She was going to wipe that look off his smug face. 

“Should I measure it,” she said, moving her arm towards his dick, forearm extended. But just when his appendage and her’s were about to line up she ran her fingers down the length of him, right down to cup his balls. 

Rowan bowed forward, keeping a grip on her hip and the other slammed down on the bench. Eyes down, he watched as Aelin worked him, his breath catching with every twist and pull. The sight of this man under her thrall was intoxicating—the tension in every muscle, pleasure rippling across his features. The fact she had been able to elicit this kind of reaction from him made Aelin moan as her core pulsed with need. 

“Stop, stop,” Rowan panted, putting a hand on her wrist. “Just… wait.”

“Oh?” Aelin said and released him. 

Rowan’s answer wasn’t verbal, instead his fingers traced a swirl on the inside of her knee. He didn’t linger there, only went higher and higher until he had hold of the waistband of her underwear and pulled them off. Aelin lifted her hips to help rid herself of them, scooting to the edge of the counter. Closer to Rowan. 

She went to reach for him again, but Rowan grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to the top of her palm before guiding it to rest behind her. Aelin had thought this was it. That Rowan would surge forward and fill her until she was screaming. She tried not to look too disappointed as a chaste kiss was pressed to her lips then her cheek. When those patient kisses reached her neck they changed, they were heavier, more insistent, full of heat as his teeth scraped across her skin. Aelin was so focused on the feeling of his lips, she didn’t know what his hands were up to until a finger softly teased her clit. 

Want rushed through her, pooling where Rowan’s hand began to tease with purpose. Aelin moaned, one arm kept her upright, the hand of the other dove into Rowan’s hair. That hold, with her elbow over his shoulder blade, became her anchor and the rhythm of Rowan stoking picked up. She was shuddering and gasping, lost in the feel of Rowan’s touch. When he slipped a finger into her, Aelin almost came undone. 

“That’s it,” Rowan whispered against her ear, nipping at it. “Don’t hold out on me now.”

“Oh gods,” Aelin gasped as the finger inside her crooked just right. “Rowan.”

“I’m right here.” He pressed and circled down on the apex of her thighs. “And I want you to come.”

It was a command that Aelin was powerless to ignore. Her core tightened and then the tension broke, she rolled her hips through the waves of pleasure taking over her body. All throughout Rowan whispered praises, kissed the flushed skin of her neck, rocked his fingers in a perfect motion to draw out her orgasm. Aelin felt boneless once she had caught her breath and she knew she must look a little dazed as she stared up into green eyes that were full of indecent intent and entirely self-satisfied.

“Does that answer your snide remarks about me not knowing how to please that bundle of nerves?” Rowan teased. 

“I’m going to have to admit I was wrong,” Aelin said. “It won’t happen again.”

That made him laugh, a short, pleasant sound that skittered across her skin. That sensation only intensified when Rowan angled her chin up to look at him. 

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he declared and Aelin couldn’t help her eyes dropping to his cock that still jutted out of his jean. Hard and ready for her. The denim was quickly shed from the rest of his body. 

“I thought we’d never get there,” Aelin quipped and she inwardly kicked herself. Rowan had just rocked her world and was potentially going to do it again, and she couldn’t keep her damn mouth shut. 

Rowan didn’t seem to mind though, he just kissed her and picked something up from the bench beside her. When there was a crinkle of foil Aelin opened her eyes to see a condom caught in between Rowan’s fingers and his wallet unfolded by her thigh. Surprised at the preparedness, and honestly just the consideration of it, Aelin’s stupid mouth ran her into trouble again.

“Hoping to seduce one of your fans back here?” She said and instantly regretted it. 

“You’re such a smartass,” Rowan said, mirth dancing in his words. “You’ll be thanking me for always being prepared soon enough.”

“Awful sure of your—“

Rowan cut her off with a fierce kiss, his hands pulling Aelin’s hips closer and nudging the head of his cock at her entrance. Anticipation hung in the air as Rowan waited, whatever for Aelin didn’t know. His eyes took in her face before he lent in, lips hot on her neck. Aelin shuddered, ready to beg if he didn’t do something, and soon. Rowan saved her that profound embarrassment. 

He kissed over her pulse point, tongue flicking. It was then he pushed in, pulling Aelin closer, and filling her with a single delicious stroke. Aelin threw her head back, moaning loudly in relief. Rowan felt utterly perfect inside her, even more so when he started to move. The thick length of him drove in and out, feeling good but from this angle it wasn’t enough. Aelin started grinding forward to meet him, their gasps and moans filling the room. 

“Aelin,” Rowan groaned as she kissed her way up his neck. “I need more.”

Aelin met his lips. “Then take it.” 

The only warning she received were Rowan’s hands tightening on her thighs, and then they were moving across the room. Aelin held on, a slightly delirious laugh escaping her as he carried her so effortlessly. Then she was lowered onto the couch, her bare back meeting the soft cushions. Aelin’s dress was still bunched around her waist but she couldn’t care less. Not when Rowan was looking at her like she was the centre of his world. And she supposed that in this moment he might be. He was braced over her, surveying her with unfiltered desire. 

“You’re beautiful,” his voice was nearly reverent.

“I know,” Aelin said, her irreverence equaled the esteem of his sentiments. 

He laughed, something that seemed out of place considering the situation they were in. “The correct response is ‘thank you’. We’ll have to work on those manners of yours.”

Aelin keened as Rowan thrust into her, a lazy and thorough pace. He took the care to slip a thumb between them, exposing her clit, allowing friction to hit it with every thrust of his hips. Under Rowan’s ministrations it didn’t take long for the hot coil low in Aelin’s stomach to tighten again, craving the release she knew Rowan was going to give her. He bowed, putting his mouth on her breast, pressing an opened mouth kisses in time with the bouncing from the sharp thrusts. When he sucked a nipple into his mouth Aelin cried out, her core fluttering. This was euphoric, Aelin would crave this every day for the rest of her life. 

“You’re close.”

It wasn’t a question but still Aelin answered. “Gods, yes.”

Rowan kissed her mouth again, licking in and teasing her tongue with his. Then he angled her hips upward, grinding on her clit more earnestly. He was on his way to outdoing every other man she had been with. He would ruin her and she’d thank him for it.

“Prove me right,” Rowan breathed onto mouth. “Tell me this is why you teased me.”

“It is,” Aelin said, a moan catching her words. “Gods, please don’t stop now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Rowan promised. 

Rowan gave her a hard thrust, followed by a steady drag of his hip and Aelin broke. Moaning his name like a prayer she allowed the pleasure to consume her wholly. She had little sense beside the feeling of Rowan driving into her over and over, heightening the peak of her orgasm. He didn’t last long after that, cursing as he came inside with hurried but thorough jerks of his hips. 

Aelin ran her hands over Rowan’s sweaty skin as they caught their breaths. He graced her skin with lazy kisses like he wasn’t quite done with her yet. Eventually he did pull away and out, walking across the room to dispose of the condom. Aelin fixed her dress and retied the knots on her shoulder. Without a mirror they must look a mess, but Aelin didn’t care. All her focus was going to the man who was dressing in front of her. 

“So, should we talk about it?” Rowan asked, picking his shirt off the floor. 

“I… what is there to talk about?” Aelin hedged. 

Rowan gave her a smile like he could read every one of her insecurities. “Maybe about how I’d very much like to do it again.”

“You would?”

Rowan left his shirt on the back of the chair and prowled over to her. She thought he might kiss her or pin her back on the couch, but Aelin was pleasantly surprised as he instead sat next to her and pulled her into his lap. 

“Why don’t we just admit that I like you and you like me, and we’ll go from there?” Rowan said, sweetly brushing hair out of her face. 

Aelin nodded enthusiastically, smiling as their lips touched. “Yeah, lets do that.”

They made out like teenagers, and it was just starting to get interesting when there was a knock on the door. They froze where they were, Rowan’s hand in her breast and Aelin’s mouth on his neck.

“Yes?” Rowan’s voice was strained.

“You have a panel starting in five minutes, Mr Whitethorn,” someone said through the door. 

“Thank you,” Rowan called back. “I’ll be right there.”

They both started laughing and Aelin stood. “They’ll be knocking on my door next and I won’t be there.” 

“Well, we have places to be,” he reminded, probably to them both. 

Aelin went over to the mirror and tidied herself up. She was flushed and she could only hope it would fade in the next five minutes, otherwise she’d be blaming the lack of airflow in the convention centre. Rowan came to stand behind her, sweeping a hand through his hair to make it neater and less like Aelin had been tugging her fingers through it. She turned, fixing his collar and kissing him once. 

There was a lot unsaid between them, but right now they had a job to do. Aelin wanted nothing more than to stay shut in here and have their own kind of fun.

“Come on,” Aelin said. “Once this is done, I’ll show some more things you’re right about.”

~~~~~

Fenrys checked his watch. The panel had started five minutes late apparently thanks to his two star authors. It was highly unusual for Rowan to be late, he tended to be early if anything. Aelin tended to be 50/50 on the matter. She was likely to appear just at the right moment after she’d worked everyone into a tizzy. It was quite a feat to be the manager of two authors who were such polar opposites. 

The host introduced them, and they both walked out on stage. Aelin gave the crowd a wave as they cheered, while Rowan just nodded politely. Unsurprising reactions from the two of them. What did surprise him was Rowan pulling out Aelin’s chair and tucking her in before he took his own seat. And there was the smile Aelin aimed at him. That was weird. Really weird. 

“What was that?”

Fenrys turned to see Lysandra who had appeared next to him. As Aelin’s publicist it wasn’t uncommon for her to be at these things, especially with how much of a firecracker her charge tended to be. 

“They were nice to each other,” Fenrys said lowly as the questions started. 

“Weird,” Lysandra concurred.

“Yeah.”

For a while they just watched the panel unfold and the host led the conversation. Aelin and Rowan did their job well, and for that Fenrys was grateful. It sure as hell made his job easier. 

“Aelin wasn’t in her dressing room, I wasn’t even sure she was going to turn up,” Lysandra muttered.

“Weird,” Fenrys said this time.

Lysandra hummed her agreement. 

The sound of Aelin’s bright laughter drew Fenrys attention and his mouth popped open when he realised she had been laughing at something Rowan had said. This was just progressively getting more confusing. 

“What… he’s not funny,” Fenrys whispered. “I would know, and Aelin knows. What the hell is happening?”

“What changed?” Lysandra added. “This morning she was ready to rip his throat out.”

Fenrys turned his attention back to the stage, just watching for further signs that his two authors who were self professed enemies were… friendlier. Giggling made him look away to a couple of fangirls just in front of them. 

“Look at them, they’re totally fucking,” one of them said.

The other tried to keep a lid on her laughter. “I swear he’s got a hickey.”

Fenrys’ eyes went wide and he turned to find Lysandra looking at him with a mirrored expression. 

“Nooooo,” Lysandra hissed. “When?”

“I…” Fenrys was too shocked and his brain scrambled for an answer. Then it hit him, loud and clear. “Right now!”

His voice was slightly too loud and drew some curious looks, he gave them an apologetic smile. 

“What?” The publicist demanded. 

“I saw them arguing,” Fenrys explained, recalling what he’d seen a little earlier. He’d been heading to Rowan’s dressing room to have a chat about his next publication date when he saw Aelin at his door, getting into another one of their spats. “I heard them arguing and I left them to it. I really left them to it. Because I came back later and heard some noises and thought maybe he was blowing off steam with one of the fangirls but, hey. Guess not.”

“Wow, good for them,” Lysandra said through quiet laughter.

A few moments of silence went by as Fenrys digested this turn of events and the complications it might pose for him. All and all it would be good, certainly a lot less tension in the room. 

“Did you know that Aelin hasn’t read his books?” Fenrys said, watching as Rowan sent Aelin a secretive smile that wasn’t all that secret in a room of one hundred people. 

Lysandra nodded with a wry smile. “Yeah, I keep telling her to. Maybe now she will.”

~~~~~

After the panel Aelin snuck away from Rowan and went to the booth that their publisher had set up. All his books were there and she bought every single one of them. With the animosity between the two of them well and truly burnt away to nothing this was the first task on Aelin’s list. She had avoided Rowan’s work out of stubbornness and spite, but now she was curious to see what he’s written. 

With a pile of books in her arms, Aelin returned to Rowan’s dressing room. He was seated on the couch looking at his phone and he looked up at the noise of the door snapping shut.

“What have you got there?” He asked, setting his phone aside. 

“I thought you could give me a private signing,” Aelin said. “The front page of each, please.”

“Is that so?” 

Aelin nodded, bottom lip tucked under her teeth. There was a small table beside the couch and she put the books there, pulling her gold pen out of her pocket. With it between two fingers she waved it in front of him, standing so she was between Rowan’s knees. 

“No matter what, keep signing,” Aelin told him, pressing the pen into his hand and then kissing him deeply. “No matter what.”

Rowan was breathing hard and Aelin’s hands raked down his chest and stopped at the waist of his jeans. 

“Grab a book, get started.” She popped the top button of his jeans only after he’d picked up the first book. “Now we can get started.” 

Rowan did well, despite the distraction. Every book was signed, but by the last one his signature was nearly illegible. Her mouth had been entertaining him while he signed and now while Aelin sat beside him so innocently inspecting his work it was very hard to ignore the very proud distraction for her. 

She tutted, determinedly glancing towards Rowan’s eyes. “Now you’ll have to start all over again.” 

Rowan was having none of that. The gold pen was tossed across the room and strong hands hauled her into his lap. Aelin laughed but that was quickly silenced by a growl and demand in her ear. “Later.”

When those hands began to wander, Aelin readily agreed. “Later.”

Maybe later she’d even tell him her wish had come true. 

~~~~~

Well... I think this might be my first official smutty oneshot. I hope it wasn’t half bad.

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash​ // @literary-licorice​ // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine​ // @highqueenofelfhame​ // @3am-reading​ // @soup-that-is-too-hawt​ // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore​ // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca​ // @sleep-and-books​ // @alifletcher2012​ // @westofmoon​ // @sleeping-and-books​ // @ttakeitbacknoww​ // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses​ // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen​ // @velarian-trash​ // @queenofxhearts​ // @heroesofterrasen​ // @highladyofstoriesandmusic​ // @empire-of-wildfire​ // @camerooonchiu​ // @crackedship​ // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books​ // @yourwhisperingshadows​ // @thesirenwashere​ // @tswaney17​ // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper​ // @cat5313​ // @judelovescardan​ // @flowerspringsea​ // @chaoticskyy​ // @the-regal-warrior​ // @fanfictrash3000​ // @blueeyes425​ // @starseternalnighttriumphant​ // @bamchickawowow​ // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda​ // @flora-and-fae​ // @thereaderandfangirl​ // @illyrian-bookworm​ // @chemicha​ // @meltalgel // @gay-book-nerd​ // @that-odd-puzzle-piece​ // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato​ // @girl-who-reads-the-books​ // @hizqueen4life​ // @the-third-me​ // @1islessthan3books​ // @bestmelle​ // @cursebreaker29​ // @b00kworm​ // @superspiritfestival​ // @aesthetics-11​ // @maastrash​ // @mynewdreamwasyou​ // @the-last-apprentice​ // @charincharge​ // @firestarsandseneschals​ // @scarznstars​ // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships​ // @df3ndyr​ // @trinitybailey2003 // @gwynethhberdara // @booknerdproblems​ // @larisssss​ // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7​ // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10​ // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77​ // @jesstargaryenqueen​ // @anntheintrovert​ // @starbornvalkyrie​ // @loudphantomdragon​ // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth​ // @fangirlprincess09​ // @maddymelv // @sierrareads​ // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez // @lysandra-ghost-leopard​ // @rowaelinismyotp​ // @pullnpeeltwizzlers​ // @anne-reads // @jadeaffliction​ // @gracie-rosee​ // @elriel4life​ // @rowaelinrambling​ // @tothestarswholistentodreamers // @thenerdandfandoms // @castielspelvis​ // @swankii-art-teacher​ // @grandma-noob-lord​ // @vanzetanze​ // @highlady-brittney​ // @story-scribbler​ // @linguine-panini // @pastasiren​ // @surielandiareendgame // @silentquartz​ // @live-the-fangirl-life​ // @whimsicallyreading​ // @goddess-aelin​ // @littleboxofthunder​ // @empress-ofbloodshed​ // @booksbqueen // @rowanwhitethornisbae​ // @charlizeed​ // @feysand-loml​ // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ // @alyx801​ // @amandaswallowtail​ // @louiseleblancdiggory​ // @abookishfreak // @danibutterr​ // @thegreyj​ // @lizzyfirebringer // @endlessdaydream​ // @magnifique1807​

[quietbooklion]

Thoughts on: Aoi

When I was first introduced to Aoi, I wasn't really sure I was going to like him. The tsundere types are a hit or miss for me because their behavior can either be fun and cute sometimes or downright annoying. Thankfully, Aoi is the former because when I had played his route years ago, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I did like him. But I kind of forgot most of his storyline and after replaying it, I can confidently say that I think his story, along with Kuya's are the best of the Dawn faction. And Aoi himself is such a compassionate and caring guy.

*This review will contain spoilers, you have been warned.*

I think what really sold me to Aoi was how he reacts to others emotions and how he in turn tries to understand said emotions while also coming to terms with his own internal demons. Aoi's route definitely has a huge emphasis on accepting and overcoming your emotions, now matter how difficult things are.

His personality won me over because of how cute he reacted to any ounce of a compliment coming from Futaba or the others. The dude fits the tsundere trope to the T and he makes it work. I lost count the number of times he blushed throughout his story. He's so babygirl coded.

His story highlights how much he and Futaba have an internal struggle with their emotions all while trying to deal with external factors that make things more challenging for them. Whether it's Futaba coming to terms with Akiyasu's betrayal and Aoi not wanting to get hurt again, it shows how vulnerable they can be. What I liked about this is that while the story is fantasy, their emotions are grounded in reality which makes their struggles all the more real. Aoi has seen the dark sides of many people, believing that no one truly has a pure heart. You as the player can see how he doesn't want to wear his heart on his sleeve even though he truly wants to believe the good in people. And with Futaba, she is slowly spiraling into despair after what happened to her father, it's honestly surprising to see a protagonist go through a bit of a deconstruction arc even if it only lasted for a moment.

But even so, I loved how Aoi not only came to terms with his own emotions and feelings about Futaba, he was able to reach out and be vulnerable in order to save Futaba. He laid his emotions out there in the open and it was satisfying to see how victorious both of them came out in the end.

One thing I do want to point out is that while I think a majority of the routes have very little romance, I think Aoi's route probably has the most since he does love the MC no matter what route she is in. Their love and affection felt more genuine than everyone else and I have to give props to the writing for actually having some romance, even if it was a slow burn type.

I'm so glad I got to experience this story again.

5 out of 5.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

The Taste of Love (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: Vampire!Minho x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Some Fluff | Mediaeval Setting Word Count: ~3k | AO3 Synopsis: Every handful of centuries, Minho found himself someone that was willing to let him feed off of them. It usually wasn’t planned, it sort of just happened. This time, that person was you, the baker that had just moved into town. He wanted nothing more than to have a taste of you, in more ways than one. Warnings: Minho’s POV · blood (duh) · vampire shenanigans (good ol’ blood sucking) · reader is implied to be chubby, but there’s not that much focus on it · possibly inaccurate mediaeval terminology · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: will i ever get tired of vampire!minho? no, i won’t. this is all just some monsterfuckery, as usual. don’t look at me 🫣 special thanks to @comet-falls for reading this before anyone else and letting me know it didn’t suck💜

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Smut Warnings: implied/referenced sexual acts · some sort of bloodplay, but this is a vampire fic, what did you expect? · explicit oral (F.Rec)

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Ever since Minho was turned, he’d had trouble dealing with his feedings. 

For long periods of time, he’d settled on a vegetarian diet, hunting deer, or moose, or any possible animal he could find in the woods. Every couple of centuries, though, he’d be lucky enough to find someone fucked up in the head enough to let him feed off of them. It was something he tended to avoid, because he’d inevitably grow attached, and getting attached to someone that aged and eventually died was something that took an immense toll on the tiny bit of humanity that was left in him.

Sometimes, though, it was unavoidable. Or, at least, it felt like it to him. 

The first time you crossed his path was during the very early morning, way before the sun rose in the horizon. Minho had just fed, he’d had so much the poor cow didn’t even make it. He was seemingly satisfied enough to go on for a few days without any more of his crimson sustenance, but the second you walked past him, his mouth went dry.

What an intoxicating scent, you had… Enough to cloud his reason completely, enough to make him turn around and walk after you–discreetly, of course. If years and years living in hiding had taught him anything, it was the art of discretion.

Minho knew it was wrong. That what he was doing was beyond creepy and immoral, but he needed to know who you were, he just did. So he followed you until you made it to a building, a new bakery that had settled in town just last week.

Soon after, the smell of baked goods started to emanate from the building’s chimney. It was pleasant, but nothing compared to the smell of you.

Minho left the place shortly after that, right before the sun started to show his head in the sky, and, as he walked the familiar paths to his manor in the outskirts of the town, he figured it was time for him to open himself up again. Now, it was just a matter of courting you, in hopes that you’d give him the time of day.

Trying to get someone’s attention while being a creature of the night wasn’t exactly easy. That was something Minho quickly came to find out after he turned. Which was why, the only times he was able to see you was either in the early morning when you went to your bakery and started preparing your goods, or in the late evening when you finally closed shop and made your way home.

The first time he tried to approach you, a friend of yours suddenly came out of nowhere, and Minho, admittedly, felt a bit shy, so he decided to try some other time. He’d lived for centuries, he was stronger, more dexterous than any human, and somehow he still felt uncomfortable around strangers sometimes. He often called this curse of introversion the remnants of his humanity.

He continued to try, though. He was persistent, but each attempt always failed. To this day, he found it both amusing and mortifying that the evening he finally got to meet you, to actually speak to you, was also the one he made a fool of himself. What was all vampiric dexterity worth for if he was still able to trip over his feet and fall face first to the ground?

Thankfully for him, you had quite the sense of humour, and his mishap simply made you laugh and offer your hand to help him to his feet. Your reaction made it so Minho didn’t feel half as embarrassed as he usually would, so it was easy for him to recover and start chatting you up.

After getting acquainted with you, Minho reached the same dilemma he always had in situations like these… He wanted you. Not only that delicious nectar that flowed through your veins, but also everything that laid under your clothes, and, most of all, your company.

He knew he had to reveal his true self to you, and if you wanted him back, vampirism and all, it’d all be smooth and dandy. However, if you didn’t, he’d have to make a choice… Respect your decision and leave you alone forever, or do as many of his peers did, to give into his instincts, drink you up, erase your memory, and carry on with his life as if nothing had happened.

When he had been recently turned, Minho didn’t even entertain the possibility of taking someone’s blood without their consent, but, after having lived as long as he had, morality was a concept that seemed to shift and drift into a muddier construct. He’d always thought that, if he ever did something like that, then that’d be the moment he’d known that tiny bit of humanity in him had left him completely.

Luckily, when he did gather the courage to tell you the truth, even if you had been a bit shaken at first, you clearly liked him enough not to care about it. If anything, you were immensely curious about it all. ‘How old are you then?’, ‘Were things as bad back then as they said?’, ‘Did it hurt?’, ‘Does it hurt now?’

Minho answered any and every question you had for him, as honestly as he could–although, ometimes, he believed that if he was too honest or too straightforward he’d scare you off. ‘I’m really old’, ‘They were even worse’, ‘It did hurt. A lot…’, ‘It does not hurt as much anymore. Only when I am hit by sunlight or when I have not fed in a long time…’

When you inquired about his feedings, he simply told you of his vegetarian diet. He didn’t want to go too deep into it. You didn’t need to know which animals he drank from, nor how his vegetarian diet made it so he had to feed at least once a week, as opposed to how human blood would keep him satisfied for a whole month. 

He decided not to ask you to let him feed off of you just yet… Just like it happened when he wanted to tell you about his vampirism, he was also apprehensive of asking you to become his main source of sustenance.

After all, to Minho, not only did it feel like a major commitment, but, also, you could very well push him away due to the proposition, and he honestly wouldn’t blame you if you did. Although, losing you now was something he couldn’t afford. He was too used to walking you to your bakery in the very early morning, to spending evenings talking with you…

Regardless of his very obvious attraction, he genuinely enjoyed your company, and this was probably the most understood he’d felt after a long, long time. And also, to him, it felt like you were enjoying his company, too.

The first time Minho kissed you, it had been a spur of the moment thing. He was notorious for overthinking these things, for wanting the situation to be absolutely perfect, but you just smelt so good, and you looked so cute, and your heart was beating so fast in your chest there was no way he could’ve stopped the words from coming out of his mouth.

‘I really want to kiss you…’

Lame, basic, completely void of flourish or romanticism… But your heartbeat still quickened, he could hear your blood rushing through your veins, all the way to the utmost sensitive areas of your body. For a brief moment, he wished you could feel that reaction in him, too. He was certainly feeling it–or, at least, something akin to it, even when his body had long since been incapable of showing it.

‘Are you sure? I am no longer chaste…’ 

How ludicrous. As if something as trivial as that mattered to him. He’d lived for so long, he’d realised chastity was on its own a ridiculous concept. Almost no one was chaste after reaching a certain age, either because of the thoughts in their heads or the actual physical implications of the fact. Which was exactly what he told you.

If Minho’d had a working heart, he was sure it would’ve leaped out of his chest the second you pulled him to you for a kiss. 

Your lips were soft, warm, they had a faint taste of strawberry–surely from one of your jam-filled pastries–and an undeniable taste of you. As he kissed you, as he held you close to him by the waist, Minho realised he was cursed now.

There was no way he wouldn’t be bound to you after this, after savouring the feeling of your warmth against his body, of your soft flesh under his hands… Things escalated further than he had ever expected that night, but he wasn’t going to complain, not when the sight of you, vulnerable, completely bare on his bed, was everything he could’ve ever dreamt of.

Minho knew then that he was ready to spend the next handful of decades with you, for as long as your mortal life lasted, or for as long as you wanted him to.

The first time you brought up the topic of feeding to him, Minho almost didn’t believe his ears.

‘Have you ever thought of feeding off of me, my love? Of drinking me up?’

It was not only the two questions themselves, but also the way you’d asked them, and your overall body language as you did, that made him think he was delirious. You didn’t sound scared, nor disgusted. If anything, there was a lingering curiosity in your tone, and, most importantly, a dangerous tint of sultriness, maybe even arousal, that hung to your every word.

‘Of course I have, my dear. More times than I could ever count…’

Minho had no reservations when he answered your queries. How could he, when you had shown him nothing but acceptance and love throughout these past handful of months? When you seemed to have absolutely no qualms when it came to his monstrous ways?

‘Would you like to do it?’

If he had the ability to, he was sure he would’ve fainted right then and there.

Of course he would like to do it. Scratch that, he would love to do it. There was barely anything he wanted more than to taste the scarlet liquid running through your veins, to have the undeniable taste of your humanity on his tongue.

What was seemingly an innocent walk along the stream in the forest had just turned into, quite possibly, one of the most satisfying feeds he’d had in centuries.

Minho sat on the ground, under one of the many trees that seemed to provide you two with an odd sense of privacy. Odd, because you were pretty much still in an open space.

Interestingly enough, even when Minho was a monster, he was still just as part of nature as you were, and, that night, all that booming life surrounding you in the forest simply protected you both; it let nature take its course.

With you straddling his lap, with one of his hands on the small of your back, and the other on the side of your neck, Minho pressed his lips to your pulse point, almost salivating at the minute thumps of your heart against his skin. You shivered in his hold, keeping your hands on his shoulders to maintain your posture.

“Do not make any sudden movements, darling. I do not want to hurt you…” He mumbled against the fragile skin, humming in satisfaction once you nodded. “If it becomes too much, say it. Or squeeze me if talking is too difficult, alright?”

You hummed, nodding again. Minho seriously hoped he’d be able to stop if you showed any signs of discomfort. He hadn’t had human blood in so long he wasn’t really sure how he’d react. Killing you was a very real possibility, he’d told you already, but you still wanted to go through with this. Being honest, he was just a weak man, incapable of passing up the opportunity when it was so boldly presented to him, even when it could possibly take your life.

So he delayed no further. He located the safest area he could on your neck, one where not too many important veins resided, and after a couple of tentative licks on your skin, his fangs enlarged. He lightly dragged them over your throat, letting you feel not only their presence, but also their sharpness.

“Take a deep breath. Do not move too much”, his voice was barely a whisper, but he knew you heard him clear as day.

As soon as you took that deep breath he’d asked you for, his teeth sank on your flesh, piercing the skin like it was a knife cutting room temperature butter. You didn’t move, but the moan that came out of your mouth was more than indication enough that you’d felt it all.

When your taste flooded his mouth, Minho couldn’t help but moan as well. It was all so much better than he had imagined. His whole body trembled, he felt as if he was burning up from the inside out in the best way possible, and he just closed his eyes to enjoy the taste of you.

What an absolutely delectable taste… So much so he had to remind himself to stop before it was too late. He was sure he had drank a bit too much for comfort, but you didn’t protest, you didn’t move one centimetre out of place, you just let him take as much as his heart desired, either because you trusted him that much, or because you had your own personal gains from this exchange–after all, no one just simply offered themselves to a vampire unless they had their own carnal reasons for it.

After soothing the pair of puncture wounds with his tongue, Minho finally pulled away from your neck to look you in the eyes. What he found was your blown pupils, your lips slightly parted as you took in ragged breaths, and even though his fangs were still very much at their full length, you immediately cupped his cheeks and pulled him in for a heated kiss.

It was messy, desperate, he was sure there was still some of your blood on his mouth that was now smearing all over yours, and he had to be careful not to hurt you with his teeth, but you didn’t seem to mind or care at all. You just kissed him like you needed him to breathe, and he let you indulge, mostly because he himself wanted nothing more than to have you as close as he possibly could.

Minho was constantly grateful that you’d crossed his path all those months ago, that you decided to move to this specific town in the first place. Not only did you let him drink your blood, but you also brought an irreplaceable spark to his lacklustre immortal life.

He tried not to think too much of the future, of the moment you’d inevitably pass away. There was no point in grieving this far ahead, he needed to remind himself that, yes, it would happen, but there were hopefully still many years before it did.

Enjoying the present was of the utmost importance. Especially when the present was you on his bed, with your legs over his shoulders and his mouth attached to your plump, warm centre.

All the sighs, and moans, and deep breaths, always reminded him you were here, you were his, and that you trusted him. You trusted him enough to bare yourself to him, to move in with him to his previously lonely manor in the outskirts of town, and to let him feed once a month from any area of your body he wanted to.

Feeding off of a human’s neck was usually the most traditional way, but when Minho found a suitable partner, he always liked to get creative. He’d admit there were spots he usually preferred, that he enjoyed much, much more than the neck. The softer the area was, the better. It was always much tastier, especially so once pleasure was coursing through his partner’s veins.

Thankfully for him, you had plenty of those softer, squishier areas, and you also had no reservations when he wanted to sink his teeth in them. He was trying his best not to get ahead of himself. Getting his fangs to their full length when he had his mouth between your legs was incredibly inconvenient, he genuinely didn’t want to hurt you, and he was certain that the sharp tip of his teeth would damage such a sensitive area of your body.

With a hand on your belly, and the other on your thigh, Minho let himself enjoy the taste of your arousal on his tongue. Your grip on his hair was tight, but you made no move to push him away; if anything, you were pulling him further into you, as much as he could be, keeping him there for as long as he’d let you.

Licking his way up to your clit, he sucked the sensitive nub into his mouth, parting his lips enough to flick it with his tongue. The moan of his name that spilled from your lips made his head spin. Your legs trembled with his motions, especially so when he finally brought his hand from your thigh close to your core to spread your juices with two of his digits.

Minho teased you for a bit, dipping just the tip of his fingers into you only to remove them a second after, increasing the pressure and pace of his tongue. At least, he tried to tease you… It was hard to do so when you begged so sweetly from him. Never in his long life had he enjoyed the sound of the word ‘Please’ coming out of someone else’s mouth as much as he did now, even more so when you called him your love, your darling, your heart. 

My, my, my… Every time you addressed him as such he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit human again. If he had a working heart, he was sure he’d feel it swell in his chest. Yours, yours, yours… He was yours. For as long as you lived, he’d be yours.

When Minho finally stuffed those two digits within your warmth, the sight of your head falling back against the pillows was enough to let him know it was time. He was thirsty, and he was ready to give in to his primal needs.

He removed his mouth from your skin, but he kept massaging that sweet spot within your walls that had your toes curling with need. “Going to do it now, my love. Hm?”

You nodded. “Please, darling…”

Minho hummed, giving your clit one more affectionate kiss before he replaced his mouth with his thumb. If he could die, you’d be the death of him for sure.

He kept rubbing precise circles on the apex of your thighs, dragging his fingers within your clamping walls. At least, as precisely as he could while he attached his mouth to your soft tummy. Already, his fangs made an appearance, it didn’t take much for them to whenever he knew he was about to puncture your skin. It was second nature at this point.

Sometimes, Minho liked to start with your belly. Yes, start. He’d developed a bit more self control since he started to feed off of you, so he used that to his advantage, to feed off of as many parts of your body as he could.

When his teeth sunk on your flesh, you exhaled a shaky breath. Oh, how sweet you tasted whenever his fingers were on you like this. He could not only smell your arousal, but also taste it on his tongue when he started to drink you up. It was intoxicating, fulfilling, it was absolutely everything to him.

Before he could get carried away, Minho pulled away from your tummy, swiftly reattaching his lips to one of your thighs instead. He repeated the motions, puncturing your skin, drinking your essence, soothing the wounds with his tongue only to move along to the next area.

By the time he was full, you were trembling, whining, begging for your release. So he cleaned the remnants of your blood with the back of his hand before his lips found their way between your legs once again. Minho tried his best to will his fangs to decrease in size, at least enough for his own comfort. At this point, he was absolutely sure you wouldn’t mind, if anything, it’d probably turn you own, but he still wanted to be careful.

As soon as he started to suck on your swollen nub, as soon as the pace of his fingers increased, unintelligible noises of pleasure fell from your mouth. It didn’t take long for you to finally find your release, swearing and saying his name time and time again. Minho loved to feel your warmth around his fingers, especially as it spasmed with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Somehow, it always made him feel even fuller than when he fed.

When he was sure you’d enjoyed as much of your pleasure as you could, he finally removed his fingers, and he simply kissed his way up your body, until his lips finally found yours. You sighed, a content sigh that had him feeling tingly all over, just as you hugged him close to you and pressed tired kisses on his lips.

“Feeling fine, my dear?” Minho mumbled between kisses, relishing the fast pace of your heart against his chest.

“Mm… Just a bit lightheaded”, you mumbled back, dragging your fingers through his hair, making him shiver.

After a few minutes of kissing, of reassuring words against the other’s skin, Minho pulled himself away from your tight hug so he could fetch you some food. It was important for you to replenish your body, the healthier you were, the more he’d be able to feed, but most importantly, the longer you’d live.

As he fed you your meal, as he engaged in conversation with you, Minho reminded himself once again how important it was to live in the present, to not worry about the impending future of your relationship. You were on his bed, laughing, smiling, joking about how he’d almost made you a colander tonight, telling him story after story of odd encounters you had with your customers, and, for now, that was more than enough for him.

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[thisworldisablackhole]

Contact, by Carl Sagan (1985) - 5/5

All I knew about Carl Sagan prior to reading this book was that he was some kind of nerdy turtleneck wearing space guy with a TV show. Because of that, I almost half expected this to be some pretty dry, hard, potentially even boring science fiction. It kept being tossed around as a classic though, so I caved and decided to give it a shot. I came away from reading this thinking Carl Sagan must have been the most likeable and empathetic guy to ever walk the earth. May he rest in peace.

Contact is a highly realistic and down to earth imagining of humanity's first contact from outer space, but don't let it's lack of pure space fantasy dissuade you. It is told through the following of our main character Ellie, but it's scale extends down to the very core of global socioeconomics and culture, setting the stage for a futuristic Tower of Babel type event. Despite it's mass scale, Contact is also superbly human, and takes great care in building a team of multifaceted and flawed scientists and global elite to face the eye of the storm and steer humanity's fate together. All the characters are beautifully written, with none being too perfect or cliché. Carl Sagan proves that—in addition to knowing a lot about space and technology—he also has a vastly intimate knowledge of human hearts and minds.

There are no clear bad guys. There is no good versus evil. Most if not all characters and factions are human enough to sympathize with on some level. Even when topics of Faith, Religion, Science and Politics come up, Sagan does not use his role as author to persuade the reader in any one direction, he simply sets the questions, and allows our characters to offer up their beliefs and arguments in a very diplomatic manner. In fact, some of the conversations between astronomer Ellie and our religious representatives Billy Jo Rankin and Palmer Joss were some of my favourite moments in the whole book simply for the insight. It might appear like I am making the characters seem perfect, but believe me when I say they are not. Sagan isn't afraid to shine a light on the darkness which humans are capable of, and even our main character actively grapples with shortcomings and relatable yet unflattering self-realizations.

Oh yeah, and the space stuff is cool too. Like really cool. This is a science fiction book after all. There was more than enough actual science in here to support the story with fun theories and realistic explanations of technology and astrophysics without ever veering into wall-of-text infodump territory, and the fair balance between the nerdy and spiritual aspects of the book made the build up and payoff immensely satisfying from both a personal and scientific point of view. Carl Sagan really tried to represent the best of all of us here, and I can now easily see why Contact is regarded as a classic. I have nothing to criticize. Easiest 5/5 ever.

[skzstoryvault]

Pastel Crimes (fluff, comfort)

F!Reader x Chan

Chan and his wife attend the wedding of someone in her family.

This is in no way connected or meant to be a reflection of the real person Bang Chan.

This is pure fantasy. Everyone would envy whoever married Bang Chan, no matter who they were. I thought this would be a very juicy, satisfying scenario.

Since it's a white people wedding, expect some micro-aggressions and boomer racism. Reader's family is misogynistic towards her.

The story stops right as the smut starts.

The "you" used here is not generic, I'm using it to allow myself some immersion on later re-reads. I know that's selfish but isn't all the writing advice telling us to write what we want to read? If you still find something in here to like, all the better - I hope you enjoy it and have a good time.

Please be kind.

Please do not report this post. If it's not your thing, just scroll away.

If you're underage, please scroll on, there is nothing for you here.

***

“Your old aunt called me an oriental,” Chan says, causing a shiver of dread to go down your spine.

“She what now?!” You splutter. “Fuck me, she hit the bottle again, because when she’s sober she at least keeps her mouth shut. I’m really sorry, Channie. I… There’s really nothing that excuses it.” “You have nothing to apologise for. Old white people are racist and have no filter, but I knew that. I’ve been called worse.” “And at a wedding, too. See? This is why I never go to these things. I mean, on top of all of my family insisting that I’m gay and unemployed despite all evidence pointing to the contrary. Every time we all meet it’s just… this shit.” “Hey, you’re doing great navigating this. And I’m having fun. The food is great, there’s some nice folks our age around and the bride and groom are lovely.” He says, amused. He’s a way better, classier person than you are, because you are ready to go out there and start a fight. “Besides, it’s nice to not be the centre of attention for a bit." "You know, calling me oriental the way people refer to those skinny long cats who pile together and meow your head off… that was kind of cute.” Chan carries on. “She saw us playing with the flower girls earlier and she asked me why I hadn’t put a couple of those in you yet. And why we’re married, if not to fuck with impunity. Something your sister and BIL also asked, in a less direct way. I guess they do believe you’re gay and I’m somehow just a very charitable friend who agreed to be your full time beard?” Mortification steals your breath, you want to say so much and nothing seems an adequate first reaction so you just gasp and hiss. “Channie- “ You start, feeling on the brink of tears. This is why you are low, low contact with your family. They openly told you you could do better, way better than your husband. He’s not tall enough. Not pretty enough, not rich enough, not white, and they just know all your kids would look fully Asian because the Korean gene would totally drown out the white one. You, on the other hand, know there is no better husband than Chan. He’s hot as all hell, is fiercely protective of you and, most importantly, he loves and genuinely sees an equal in you. You’re best friends and support each other through everything, and you genuinely enjoy each other’s company even ten years after getting married. The name thing is also a point of contention. You both kept your own surnames, since in Korea women don’t take the husband’s family name. But to your family, that’s just further proof you’re just married for the tax break and to dispel all allegations of you being gay. 

“I think it’s grand,” Chan continues. “They just don’t know you and never bothered to, and I think for that crime, they deserve to never be taken off the low information diet. You’d think that for being an only child, you’d be more loved. Like Hyunjin. His parents worship the ground he walks on.” “Hyunjin was a wanted child. And notably, a boy.” You say, sighing. “I’ve been justifying my existence since I was plopped out onto this Earth. Always asking for permission and apologising for daring to exist and wanting to do anything.” 

“You’re the treasure beneath my exploded church,” Chan says, referencing a book you gave him around the beginning of your relationship. Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist. “I’m so happy I got to know you and had the exceptional wisdom to make you my wife. Your family doesn't deserve you.” 

Family. This was a big theme all along the eleven years you’ve known each other. Chan having the seven members and viewing them as his actual children because he was and still is responsible for them. Them seeing him as their dad and cheekily testing his authority, but never his love. 

You somehow ending up not as a mom figure, but acting as a consigliere to Chan, like in a mafia hierarchy. His members now respect and love you just as much as they do their leader. 

“You and the members are my family. And I don’t care that we’re atypical and not the usual dad, mom and bio kids deal.” You say. “All of my older relatives and even my parents, they’ve been married for a lifetime but they can’t stand each other. They are just too scared to leave because divorce is lawyers and court and hassle and for the women, poverty. So they do not get to judge our relationship or you.” 

“Come here, baby. Real close.” Chan whispers, opening his arms. “Channie’s gonna make it all good.” 

You blush. Even after all this time, his comforting voice and freely offered hugs work on you like a charm. 

He enfolds you in his arms and brings you even closer to him, glueing you to his front and guiding your head to one of his shoulders, placing a dry kiss to your neck and sighing. It’s from this close that you feel it- “Chris? What’s the occasion?” You ask, lifting your head to look into his eyes. What could have given him a hard-on right now? It can’t have been the racism or the dysfunctional family interactions. 

“Uh- I-” He starts, folding an arm up and scratching the back of his neck. It’s one of his tells for when he’s nervous or embarrassed. “I haven’t told you just how hot you look in this dress. I’ve been managing a semi all day.” “Never change. God, please never change.” You say, shifting so you can kiss him. “You look smoking hot in the three piece suit too. Been wanting to tear you out of it in one of the upstairs bedrooms.”

You know he doesn’t believe you when you say he looks beautiful and hot in any outfit he puts on. But he’s grateful you’re always thinking of having your way with him, despite his lingering insecurities. Those aren’t just easily dissolved with a compliment or two. And it’s honest every time. He insisted you straighten his hair and he styled it the way company stylists used to for going on stage. He wore thin gold rim glasses instead of contacts to be comfortable and the suit he got matches with your dress. Both suit and dress are a vibrant chicory blue and he wore a white shirt with the first two buttons open and a midnight blue and gold pocket square. In your eyes, he outshone the groom, and the bride too, although you both fit into the dress code. But he cannot help being the hottest man at every gathering because he’s your husband and everyone is always drawn to him. Which is why you’re always thanking your luckiest stars for him. “You look amazing in the suit. And you looked even better when you took off the jacket to play with the kids. I was drooling watching you, and my sister thought I was looking at the kids and wanting some. I didn’t have the heart to tell her what I was thinking at the time.” You say, amused at the memory. “I wish she would get off your back. Other than your old aunt with no filter, everyone else is giving me zero stress about kids. It’s not fair you get all the pressure and I get none. But I get why.” 

“Eh. In one ear, out the other.” You say. “I’ve been wanting to get you out of this suit all day.” He’s already undressing, careful but still hurrying. "Don't rush, baby, that's Valentino." You say, unzipping your dress and letting it fall to the floor, which leaves you in just a tiny string panty. “We do have the time.” He says, looking very affected by the sight of you. “By the time anyone misses us, we’ll be back.” “Don’t sell yourself short, Channie. You know I’m never done with you and you can go on for ages.”  “Yeah, good point. Well, I hope they don’t come looking for us then.” 

"It wouldn't be the worst if they did." You point out, taking his hand and pulling him close. "Might put those gay allegations to rest." He giggles. "According to Andrew Tate it's gay to have sex with your wife any time it doesn't result in a baby." Chan scoffs, clutching invisible pearls in mock- outrage. "Oh no! Turns out we were both gay this whole time!" He says, right before you two exchange a look and dissolve into giggles.

[aph-america]

[ RusAme secret Santa for @erismor-iok ! ]

“Thank you for sneaking away with me, parties make me a bit anxious…”

Ivan put his hand carefully on Alfred’s back as they walked into his bedroom. Closing the door behind him, he was happy to be in the safety of his room. The sense of security brought down his nerves. While it could be fun to dress up and chat with others, Ivan could easily get overwhelmed by the parties his family threw. He had to be on his best behavior, and couldn’t risk embarrassing his family or image. The pressure was a bit much for the young adult, who would need a break from time to time.

Alfred was a fantastic distraction. From everything, now. Ivan’s older sister Katyushka, who was queen of their planet, had been pushing Ivan to chat with single royals of other empires. Ivan being only a prince, he would only be in line for the crown if something were to happen to his sister. However, his older sister proved to be healthy, and had plans on having children. Everything laid on her, and she had plans to keep her rule going. But his sister still wished to give something to her brother, and didn’t want him to stay a ‘prince’ for all his life.

“There’s plenty of nice princes or even king’s! Don’t worry, we’ll find you a husband.”

While it only came out of love and wanting the best for her younger brother, Ivan found the idea of being married off slightly terrifying. Ivan didn’t enjoy the spotlight, and honestly felt satisfied from the perks and responsibilities of being just a prince. He didn’t feel like he needed more- it was another power and privilege, and he partly was scared of the responsibility of having to lead a whole empire or planet.

Not to mention, he hated the idea of marrying someone who he didn’t love. The boy had a passion for reading, and spent too many hours lost in romance novels. His own mind would fall into the fantasy of meeting a guy who made him laugh and feel good about himself. He didn’t care if he was a commoner or the leader of the universe; he simply wanted something genuine.

Ivan wondered if it was silly and a goal that was unreasonable for his social status and upbringing. But a boy could dream.

And he would dream about Alfred, his Jedi bodyguard.

At first Ivan thought the need for a bodyguard to be unnecessary. He felt that he could fend for himself and wasn’t in any danger. However, he changed his tune at first sight of Alfred. Then the idea of someone following him around isn’t so bad.

Ivan became infatuated quite fast; the boy was different from the rest. While Alfred is protective and looks after Ivan, he isn’t a yes man. Ivan didn’t get the fake niceness he got from most people. No fake opinions, Alfred spoke his mind and didn’t care who he was speaking to. Ivan adored being around someone genuine, who saw him more than a prince. He felt like everyone around him was fake in a sense. It seemed like most people treated him a certain way because they felt like they had to, or they wanted something out of him. It dug into Ivan’s heart, as it became hard to navigate through his relationships.

Ivan still had trouble reading Alfred at times. He had fallen hard for the man, and would drop hints from time to time about his attraction. But it all seemed to bounce off of Alfred. Yet, sometimes it seemed like Alfred was flirting or trying to be romantic with Ivan at another moment. Ivan thought that he would only get a straight answer if he made a first move. However- that was terrifying.

But after hours of contemplating on what to do, he thought doing it the night of the party would be a good moment. Perhaps he’d read too many romance novels, but he hoped being dressed up and looking his best could help win over his crush. Which he was- his sister had decided on a winter wonderland theme. Ivan's outfit could be described sparkly, his long robe being white lace with crystals on it. His hands, wrist, and neck were iced out in pure white diamonds; Ivan isn’t a materialist person but he hoped to impress Alfred. He even wore his crown, which was rare. It was simple as he hated large crowns. It’s thin and small, having clear gems put in the platinum metal. It suited Ivan’s style.

Patting an empty space next to him on his bed, he signaled for Alfred to take a seat. Which the Jedi did, smiling as he enjoyed being close and having alone time with Ivan. His own heart had fallen, but the man tried to distract and act as if he didn’t know it as much as possible. Because he shouldn’t fall in love. He can’t. But it was easier said than done.

“It’s not a problem- I bet this all gets… kind of tiring after a while. Speaking to a million people over and over again.” He spoke in agreement. Ivan nodded, looking down at his small glass of white wine. “It is- and so formal. None of it feels real.” He confessed, before looking back up again. “But it is okay. I have you around. You make me happy.” He gushed, a soft smile growing on his face as he softly placed his hand on Alfred’s shoulder. His fingers played with his shirt, trying to be flirtatious.

The Jedi seemed to enjoy the attention and gave a smirk back, having a small blush on his cheeks. “I like being around you too…” He agreed, not minding Ivan’s soft touches. He naturally leaned in as a result.

Ivan took it as a positive sign, deciding to go forward with his move making. “My sister… she keeps… telling me to talk to all the single princes and king’s… she is trying to get me a husband…”

Alfred’s sly smirk turned into a neutral expression, the corner of his mouth twitching as if the idea upset him. He tried to change his expression to one of not being pressed, but his stiffened body language said otherwise. “You don’t have to marry anyone you don’t want to…. You’re… you’re too young anyway.” Alfred defended the idea of Ivan staying single. It seemed to irk him the idea of Ivan getting engaged and moving far away.

Ivan read it all as a positive sign. His heart started to beat, as he had a little, pleased smile on his face and a blush to match. It was almost like his Jedi was getting a bit possessive over him, and that pleased Ivan like nothing else. “I know. I do not want to marry someone just because they are royal… I think it is just… an outdated concept… I already like someone anyway…”

The last sentence was said in a low voice, as it was hard for Ivan to spit out. He looked to the side, his face turning up a notch in terms of redness. Alfred looked at his crushes burning face, tensing up more. Was Ivan talking about him or someone else?

“No… I can’t think like that.” He thought, trying to knock away the idea of being happy that Ivan loved him back. He couldn’t be in a relationship. He couldn’t fall in love. He couldn’t let his life be ruled by emotions. The idea was drilled into his head since he was a young child. Romance, sex, love, kisses, intimacy; those human experiences were all taken from him.

But it was hard to keep his mind away from relationships every time he saw Ivan smile or blush. His heart would beat faster, wishing he could lean in more.

However, it was no, no, and no.

“... Who?” It spilled out, which Alfred mentally kicked himself for, especially after lecturing himself about not falling into the trap of being in love with Ivan.

Ivan’s face deepened in red, looking down at his wine again as he offered a nervous smile. “Just some… cute guy…. He has a cool weapon… and I like his braid.. is that silly?” He finally looked up, his face reading bashfulness and being shy. Coyness seemed to be the only way Ivan found himself admitting his feelings, and he prayed that Alfred would pick up on it.

Alfred’s heart kept racing. While Alfred could be obvious, it was slapping him in the face. He knew Ivan was talking about him, but he didn’t know how to handle it! Ivan was tempting, and he found it difficult to resist. His eyes would glance at Ivan’s full pink lips, wondering what they’d look like with little bruises.

“Ugh. I’m disgusting.” He mentally scolded himself.

“Cute… Cute boys make me nervous… Ha! … My sister wants me to save myself for marriage… She says men like it…” his anxiety only amped up, he felt his voice getting more low and shaky. He’s never confessed a crush or love for another person. He wasn’t even sure if he was doing it right! Alfred’s ears perked up at the idea of Ivan never having a first kiss. He liked that. No one has gotten to put their lips on his Ivan.

Alfred mentally kicked himself again for thinking Ivan was his.

“Have you ever kissed someone?” He asked, finally looking at him again. He had heard rumors that Jedi weren’t supposed to get married or have relationships, but he’s also heard of it happening. Would Alfred really live a life of abstinence? He came off as too free spirited.

Alfred looked down, shaking his head. He kept silent for a moment. “No. The force has to guide me. Not emotions. It’s… just not my destiny.” Something felt wrong saying that. Alfred couldn't put his tongue on it, but a part of his soul felt jabbed at saying that he could never be in love. He felt something for Ivan.

Why is it a bad thing?

“Oh….”

Ivan’s smile faded slightly, with his lips twitching. His heart hurt hearing Alfred shrug off the idea of a relationship when he was in the mist of confessing his love for him. Maybe he needed to try harder.

Taking a sip of the wine to calm his nerves, he put it up to Alfred’s lips, offering some. “Want a sip? It is very sweet…. I think you’d like it.” In hopes of being cute, he didn’t want to give up on flirting just yet, even if his voice was shy and it is clear he is anxious.

Alfred shook his head, denying the drink. “Nah, I can’t do that…” No drugs or alcohol were a part of the lifestyle as well. Nothing that fogs the mind.

Ivan tried to hold back a pout, but did understand and pull away the drink. Taking another sip, he chose a different route of flirting. “I.. can’t believe you’ve never kissed someone… you are so handsome… I bet a lot of boys and girls would want to kiss you… Heh…” he let out a small, nervous chuckle, wishing he came off less awkward. He didn’t have experience flirting, as his queen sister kept him away from boys that Ivan seemed to get crushes on. She didn’t want him to have any temptations.

“I am rather jealous, I wish someone would want to kiss me…” He offered a nervous smile, even if he was putting himself down. It being a gentle opinion of himself, he never viewed himself as attractive or desirable. While people would be friendly to him, he never got flirted with, or at least never had interactions that gave hints of it. He wondered if he just was unattractive. His older sister told him otherwise, but all his crushes seemed one-sided. Not to mention, he younger sister Natalia had constant suitors. Maybe he is just weird?

Alfred looked at him, his eyes soft as he frowned. He thought Ivan was a beautiful and sweet person, it made him sad to hear that Ivan didn’t think highly of himself. Especially since Alfred was smitten by the prince. He couldn’t be the only person to fall for the boy.

“I bet someone wants to kiss you…” He whispered, looking at Ivan’s lips. He leaned in slowly, ignoring the voices in his head to stop. He couldn’t- he felt a pull. He let himself lead by emotions-

“Oh?” Ivan smiled, noticing Alfred leaning in. Slowly as well, he did too, and once his face was closer, he started to close his eyes and mentally prepare himself for their lips to meet. His heart overflowing with joy, he couldn’t believe he was about to kiss Alfred.

But then he could when Alfred pulled away.

Shaking his head, he looked to the other side. “I- I can’t. I’m sorry. I… Fuck-“ He swore, getting up and basically running out of his room. Ivan stood frozen, trying to process what just happened. And when he did, his eyes started to well up with tears as his heart cracked. Placing the glass of wine on his dresser, the boy bursted out into tears. He hadn’t felt so rejected; it felt so cruel for Alfred to lean in as if he was about to kiss him. Only for him to pull away.

Getting under the covers, he tried to control his crying. He couldn’t believe how foolish he was to think Alfred loved him back. Why would he? Every negative thought about himself flooded his mind. Maybe getting married off wasn’t a horrible idea. Maybe… is it better than being alone?

Alfred couldn’t run far. Once he closed Ivan’s door, he leaned against it, knowing he couldn’t abandon Ivan. Putting his head on the door, he cried sniffles that could only be from Ivan. It felt like someone shoved something sharp into his chest. He couldn’t forgive himself for making his love cry- for hurting him so badly. His own eyes filled with tears, he sat down on the floor, hugged his knees, and placed his head on them.