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eightstarr · 10 months

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baby — abby anderson.

summary: you're on patrol with abby and you make her squirt for the first time. you don't mean to make a habit out of distracting her, but in your defense, it's hard to focus on anything else when she looks so pretty all serious and focused on keeping you safe! and you are only so strong!

notes: i don't ever really write smut and it for sure shows but anyway here it is! what no one asked for! yet again! also excuse the surprising amount of feelings that are in this considering it's technically supposed to be porn? it wouldn't be me if someone didn't say i love you at least once tho

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"Do you have a danger kink or something?" Abby asks, trying to sound cool, but her breathing's a little too staggered for that. You've got her backed up against a counter in a random kitchen of a lonesome, old house.

You smooth your tongue over her pulse and feel her shudder, your hands sneaking under her loose shirt to cup her waist, fingers squeezing adoringly. "Can't I have some fun with my girl?"

"Yeah, but—" Abby cuts herself off with a moan that's almost embarrassing considering how little you're touching her. "You did this last time, too. It's like you want to get caught."

"Caught by who?" You scoff, lifting your head to look at her, nodding once as a silent way to say up. She abides without thinking, her palms against the counter as she pushes herself up to sit on top of it. You're needy enough that you don't bother teasing, no 'good girl', no 'what would your soldiers think if they saw you be so obedient?'. You slot yourself between her thighs and continue your assault on her neck, fingers brushing over chest. "There's no one here, baby."

Baby is perhaps your biggest tell. You call her baby when she's been away for too long, when you've had a long day and show up at her door unannounced, in the morning when you've woken up from a dream that left you aching that you refuse to share the details of no matter how much she asks. 'Baby' means you're desperate. And 'baby' makes Abby pull you closer, because nothing makes her need you more than you being desperate for her.

She lifts herself up enough to let you pull her cargo pants and boxers off in one motion, and her heart skips a beat as you sink to your knees, guiding her legs over your shoulders. She used to fret about that, fret about a lot of things— but the admittedly ridiculous thought of accidentally squeezing you to death was up there. You'd made the stupid joke, as anyone would, at least I'd die happy. But when that didn't quite work besides earning a roll of her eyes and a slight smirk to her lips, you'd simply gotten back to work on making her cum on your mouth until she had no choice but to close her legs around you. And when she did, the movement mindless and needy, you groaned and left loving fingerprints on her thighs enough to reassure her that you liked it. Loved it. You loved a lot of things that Abby used to be insecure about.

The point is, she shouldn't be shocked to see you get down on your knees. It's not an entirely unfamiliar sight anymore, you've made sure of that. But even on the first time you fucked, with all the eagerness and want and sense of overdue of your affections, Abby doesn't think she saw you quite this ravenous.

It's like you're drunk on it, like you didn't have her in a way not too different from this just a mere two days ago. You eat her like you're fucking starving. Not pulling away to breathe, your nose brushing against her clit just right, moaning every time she bucks her hips or pulls your hair.

When Abby cums, she feels it in her chest. It sinks on top of her, a lovely heaviness, and then drops off of her all together and leaves her weightless. When you don't stop, she breathes out a chuckle that turns into a broken moan and buries her fingers back in your hair, half expecting you to pull away still. But time passes, drags on and speeds away much too fast all at once, and you don't.

She's saying your name, she thinks, or a sound as close to it as her mind will allow her to formulate. Abby knows she's loud by the way her noises are echoing through the empty room, mocking her. Before she can feel embarrassed by it, as if you can read her mind as easily as anything else, you drag your mouth down and fuck into her with your tongue in a way that she didn't know could feel so good before she met you. As quickly as it came, the shame is gone. Her lips part and her sounds grow louder still, spilling out of her carelessly. You want to reward her, you think somewhere in the back of your mind, want her to know how much you love it. It's a privilege to make Abby Anderson a mess, and it always makes you lightheaded with need.

You wrap your mouth around her clit and suck, and Abby lets go of your head for once to grab onto the counter and make a lame attempt to keep herself still, her knuckles white.

The pressure building in her low abdomen is familiar, but then your hand comes to lay flat against the exact spot and something about the weight of it makes the feeling twist into something different.

Abby gasps quick breaths, her eyebrows furrowed in vague confusion and enough pleasure to drown it out and soothe the meaningless pain of bumping her head back against the wall.

"I'm gonna cum," she warns, barely legible. And it's fine, she thinks, it's just like every other time. But then she feels it start to unravel, finally, and it's the same but also not at all. "Fuck, wait, I think— fuck!" she's panting, shaking and forcing her gaze to refocus just to watch the way your eyes fall closed, the way your eyebrows furrow. You moan against her and the sound is loud even while suffocated, even though you've somehow managed to push your face closer to her, press your tongue deeper. Abby feels it gush out of her and it's nothing like anything she's felt before, so good and so much and she doesn't want it to ever end, even as she blabbers, "Oh my God. Oh my fucking God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

You don't seem to hear her, hungrier than she's ever seen you— you look fucking possessed. You pull back and the sight of you is dizzying, embarrassing, and it's the only thing Abby wants to look at for the rest of her life. Your lips are glistening, yes, but so is your chin, your cheeks, her cum dripping down your neck. Your eyes are dark, more pupils than anything else, and they swallow her whole. You haven't pulled back too far, your breath still hot against her, but it's enough that you can replace your mouth with your fingers and rub on her clit. What's left in her comes out in soft spurtz, dripping onto the floor, and you couldn't tear your eyes away if you tried.

But Abby doesn't know that, doesn't know what you're thinking at all. You're surprised, but is it in a bad way? It must be. Are you disgusted? You're so covered in her that it feels like you'll never be able to wash it off, and Abby can't read your mind like you do hers, so she doesn't know that the thought thrills you, that your heart is fucking pounding in your chest, that your underwear is utterly and completely fucking ruined. You lick your lips and swipe your chin with the back of your hand, absentminded. Abby's thinking, begging, say something.

"Holy fuck," is all you can manage, a quiet mutter, breathless. Your fingers haven't stopped rubbing, but a whine and an especially forceful quiver of her legs makes you blink and you stop like you've just come out of a trance, your hand moving instantly to soothe up and down her thigh.

"I'm sorry," Abby repeats, and then you look at her face like you've just remembered it's there.

Look up at her like she's fucking crazy, like she's grown a second head, mumbling, "What?"

"I didn't— I tried to warn you," she says, even though she doesn't know that she could've. It felt so foreign, she wouldn't have known how to explain it, really.

You lower her trembling thighs from your shoulders carefully, not before pressing a kiss against each one, and then you stand up. Abby wonders if this is where you'll tell her you didn't like that, where you'll help her put her clothes back on and then you'll promise each other to never speak of it again. Instead, your eyes grow impossibly gentle, impossibly loving, and you tuck yourself closer between her legs. The hem of your jeans brushes against her core and she gasps, but doesn't move away. "Baby," you call softly, pecking her lips. "Has this never happened to you before?"

Abby feels a little like she's suffocating, the breeze coming in through the window you'd opened when you first came in not enough to soothe her anymore. But you brush your knuckles over the faint scar on her cheekbone and her shoulders grow limp, her body relaxing except for where she's shaking— fuck, she is still fucking shaking. She remembers your question and shakes her head.

You don't show her how embarrassingly proud that makes you, that you made that happen before anyone else did, because it's not the time. You tuck the feeling in your pocket for later and hum, barely resisting the urge to kiss her, to get back on your knees until they're bruised and make her cum in whatever form she'll give you all over again. "Did it feel good?" You ask, not mocking, but curious.

If she wasn't so embarrassed, Abby would've laughed. It is very possible, and the thought does nothing to ease her shame, that nothing has ever felt so good. But admitting that feels like too much, so instead she whispers, "Yeah."

You smile, happy, genuinely relieved. "Then what are you saying sorry for?" You ask, kissing her again before you can help it. "That's my fucking job. I want you to feel good."

The words alleviate like water to a small fire, and Abby feels silly for having forgotten that it's you who she's with. She's had the thought before, but it suddenly becomes more present than ever, practically breathing down her neck— that she wants to keep you forever. Keep is maybe a bad word for it. She wants to be around you forever, for as long as you'll let her, wants to move into your shitty apartment and make you breakfast and sleep every night in your cropped shirts that fit slightly too tight and make her look ridiculous. She ought to say she loves you more often, she thinks. You say it nearly every time you see her now, like the words have been bubbling inside you for too long and now they can't be kept away. It's a fairly fresh relationship, but the feelings are ancient for both of you, and it shows.

"I love you," Abby sighs, and presses her lips against yours before you can say it back. It's sloppy, she's barely starting to come down from her high, but you don't complain. You kiss her with vigor, like you're trying to spell it out with your tongue, I love you. When you pull apart, her eyes fall from your eyes to your chest and she winces, eyes squeezing shut as her forehead falls on your shoulder.

"What?" You ask, a hand coming to cradle the back of her head immediately, without thought.

"Your shirt," she mumbles against you. You glance down and let out a soft oh. The white fabric of your tank top is soaked, mostly near the neckline, sticking to your skin. You hadn't noticed. Abby lifts her head to look at you, freckled face flushed red, so pretty that you forget about the mess she made of you all over again. "You have to change. We can't go back with you looking like that," she says— or begs, more like.

"I didn't bring anything else with me," you tell her, humming appreciatively as you look back down at your chest, grinning. "Besides, this is my favorite shirt now."

Abby groans, the kind of whiney, timid sound that you could've never imagined her making before you become her girlfriend. The kind of sound that makes you weak in the fucking knees, needy and cotton-mouthed. "It's not funny," she hides her face in her hands and huffs, "'S embarrassing."

You're chuckling, but biting into your lip to stifle it when she lowers her head further down, chin against her chest. With careful touch, you wrap your fingers around her wrists and guide her hands away from her face, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Her skin is hot beneath your lips, and you hum at the feeling of it. She's usually so cold, your Abby, freezing fingers sneaking under your shirt at night and making you shudder. It's a pleasure to make her warm, an honor to see her shy. You love her so much it tugs at you, a constant reminder.

"You're a dream, Abby. Fucking perfect," you say, as clearly as you can while dragging your lips down her neck. She's the hottest thing you've ever laid eyes on, so beautiful that sometimes you can't sleep, too excited that she's there next to you to ever close your eyes. And you need her to know, but you're not really one with words, so all that comes out is, "Nearly made me cum in my fucking pants, you know that?"

Abby moans. Her breath gets caught in her throat as you suck marks into her neck and she finds that she couldn't care less right now, about the evidence that'll be left on her skin or your stupid wet shirt. She guides your face up with a hand on the back of your neck, and kisses her flavor off your lips until she can't anymore, until her lungs burn and her lips tingle. Your voice echoes in her head. Nearly made me cum in my fucking pants. Nearly, she thinks. That doesn't sound very fair.

Thick fingers make quick work of your zipper, trailing over your lower tummy and sneaking under your underwear. She's a little fast, but you've never minded. Sometimes she'll notice and force herself to slow down, to savor, but most of the time her mind doesn't let her catch up to it. Like now. She can't worry about looking clumsy or overly-enthusiastic, because she just needs to feel you. Because she wants to check that you weren't lying, that she could've made you cum without ever touching you— and it's there, the overwhelming fucking truth of it soaking her hand. You gasp at the contact, and Abby's thighs squeeze you in place, as if you'd ever leave. "Jesus Christ," she pants. She finds herself saying it a lot lately. Jesus Christ. Oh my fucking God. Calling upon figures she doesn't believe in, delusional enough to think for a second that they'll bring some kind of comfort, release her of her sins.

You're so wet that it doesn't take more than a minute for her confidence to slowly grow back, so wet that it doesn't take more than two to make you cum. It's the fastest she's ever seen you fall apart, and it wouldn't be Abby if her immediate thought (right after that was so fucking hot) wasn't bet I can make it quicker. Her ego fizzles in her chest, warm and euphoric. Abby thinks she doesn't remember the last time she felt as proud about something as she does every time she makes you feel good. Isaac's occasional pat on her shoulder and mutter of 'good job' is laughable in comparison, as is the high of working herself till she's covered head to toe in sweat at the gym, as is everything else.

It might be the honeymoon phase the movies talk about. You slowly catch your breath and raise your head from her shoulder to look at her with the same adoration as you did when she kissed you for the first time, and Abby has a hard time believing that the feeling will ever go away. Movies get a lot of things wrong, anyway.

She's walking slower than usual on your way back home, her steps sluggish, and you're sweet enough to only make fun of her for it a little bit. One comment here and there, earning a scoff when you lean closer and offer to carry her bride style, a badly stifled laugh when you hum thoughtfully and wonder out loud about what Owen must be doing right now.

Her fingers are interlaced with yours and normally she would've let go by now, a little sheepish to show that much vulnerability in front of the people who are supposed to respect her, but the thought doesn't even cross her mind. You crack another stupid joke and she giggles like she did when she was a kid, silly and sweet, tugging your hand to her lips to kiss the back of it.

Manny looks you up and down as soon as you cross the gates, dark eyebrows raised. "The fuck happened to you?" He asks. You look at him with a confused frown and wait for him to clarify, "You're wet."

Abby's stiff as a board where she stands next to you, her quick blinking the only evidence that she hasn't actually been frozen in place by some kind of magic spell.

You're much more casual. "It's fucking hot. I poured some water on myself to cool off."

Manny hums. He's seen you do it before, maybe that's why he doesn't question it. He does note, though, the suspicious way in which Abby walks silently and swiftly past him with her eyes pointedly on the floor. Her hand is tight around yours still, and you follow because— well, of course you do.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fic #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson #tlou fic #abby anderson x female!reader #abby smut

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your-averagewriter · 11 months

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Imagine the Spiderverse characters meeting Miguel's assistant

Including: Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar Miguel O'Hara, Peter B. Parker

Miles Morales - Miles is taken to meet Miguel and he was warned of his cold exterior but he wasn't warned about Miguel's assistant and her bubbly persona. You walk in and instantly his eyes are diverted from Miguel to you as you introduce yourself. You smile at the group and apologise for Miguel's bad mood as well as shaking Miles' hand upon meeting him and he swears he'll never wash that hand. Now he definitely wants to joining the Spider Society if he gets to see you everyday, after a while he comes back to see you asking you cute little questions and using bad pick up lines.

Gwen Stacy - Gwen also meets you when meeting with Miguel except it's not in his office, it's when she is 'enlisted' to the Spider Society. You saved her from the anomaly and whilst you did, she couldn't tear her eyes off of you and didn't snap out of it until Miguel was shouting at her to help. Afterwards, every time she saw Miguel, you'd be near (as his assistant) and she'd make up excuses to get to talk to you despite her awkward exterior. This includes 'bumping' into you when you go to lunch as she knows your schedule and checking with Miguel for the smallest of things.

Hobie Brown - You were actually the one who spoke to Hobie first at the Spider Society. Lots of people were put off by his 'extreme' exterior but you just thought he looked cool and naturally you wanted to tell him. Hobie was slightly confused by the small woman walking up to him and when you started complimenting his punk pins he was even more confused but also intrigued. He found out you liked similar music to him despite you're 'normal-looking' attire and he basically fell in love with you: the cute girl who liked punk music.

Pavitr Prabhakar - Pavitr was a relatively new Spiderman and was struggling to get to grips with certain skills so Miguel assigned you to helping him as you were of similar age. As soon as Pavitr saw you walk out from the portal in your Spider suit he was hooked and when he saw you take off your mask? He was even more hooked, sticking to your side throughout missions less for the safety aspect but more for the closeness and even after you've finished the short mentor programme with him he still hangs around you at the Spider Society not that you minded. You were perfectly happy having the puppy like boy following you around, keeping you company.

Miguel O'Hara - Miguel had a habit of scaring off every assistant assigned to him but that stopped entirely when you were hired. He expected you to be the same, nervous girl he always gets assigned but when you walked in you brought a couple of empanadas with you (not knowing his obsession with the food) which immediately gave him a good impression of you. After days of you working for him, his harsh stares became softer just for you and he understood the reactions you received from other Spider people that came to meet him. Afterall even he couldn't resist you're cute smile and friendly persona.

Peter B. Parker - When Peter met you he didn't know that you were Miguel's assistant but that probably only made him like you even more. You met when he bumped into you, after all he's not the most self aware of Spidermen. He was surprised to see such a unique Spiderperson as when everyone's wearing the same suit it's hard to stick out but you're kindness and friendliness really melted his heart. He, like Gwen, would make excuses to come and see you, his friendship with Miguel making it easier to come up with things. It's always "I need to show Miguel this new food from the canteen" or "I need to tell Miguel something I remembered about Miles" although he always means "I just wanna see (y/n)" and Miguel always knows.

AN: I thought I'd try this new format. If you guys would like more fanfics with this format then let me know as I really enjoyed writing this!

I hope you enjoyed reading!

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messylustt · 1 year

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Heyy!! I Hope you’re doing well and have/had a great day🥰

I wanted to request a ghostface ethan x reader smut oneshot and to be honest I don’t really have a exact idea but I just love the way you write and portrait ethan and I also think you are one of the only ones that also write him as a Dom :)

Maybe you could throw in some degrading and choking or some public sex if ur comfortable with that ofc!

Here’s kind of a „idea“ but you don’t have to use it if you don’t want to:

Reader and Ethan are in the same friend group ofc but they really hate each other (Ethan is ghostface) and idk maybe when the ghostface attacks begin (scream 6) one time where reader is walking home or something she gets a call from ghostface (Ethan) and first he’s like trying to scare her but reader isn’t that intimidated since she survived before (scream 5) and she’s also a bad ass and then gf (Ethan) randomly starts flirting with her/ dirty talking and the reader kinda goes with it since she has a bit of a thing for gf and then when she’s in a ally gf pops up and it comes to smut somehow and just before reader is about to cum, Ethan reveals himself?

(Oh and I would still love to see the bickering and fighting with Ethan and reader before the gf smut? If that’s okay with you)

I am so sorry, that got so long omg- 💀

THANK YOU ALREADY IN ADVANCE!!🫶🏻

nothing's too long babe! love this plot. meanish banter is MWAH

behind the mask — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : you don’t realise that ghostface is your enemy ethan until you’ve gone too far.

contents : slight choking, fingering, semi public sexual stuff (in an alleyway), enemies to kinda enemies who want to fuck, dub con, finger sucking. wc 2.7k

"Which brings us to our suspect list," Mindy spoke, as the entire group sat at a campus off to the side and away from prying ears.

Ethan mockingly coughs, before muttering your name. You shoot him glare. "I'm sorry, who here has survived a Ghostface attack, that's right, not you." You bite at Ethan, adjusting yourself on the bench.

Ethan rolls his eyes. "And you survived pathetically." He mutters.

"Excuse me?" You snap your head back to Ethans direction. You'd never liked this boy, almost too "innocent", and always playing the victim.

"The only pathetic one here is you, Ethan." You hated each other. You could never pinpoint why, just the fact that you did. And everyone knew it. Your smile would always drop when he walked in, your tone turning sour. And Ethan's comments became harsher the moment you said anything.

Chad was surprised by how heated Ethan's anger for you was. He'd never seen the boy say such mean things with such confidence, its like he was a different person when you were around.

"Alright, you two can bicker later." Mindy quickly chimed in, continuing on with her suspect list. She faced Ethan who still had a scowl on his face. "Ethan, the shy, dorky guy, whose so shy and dorky that no one would ever suspect him."

You scoff. "You left out sad and alone." You comment, making Ethan shoot you glare to which you mockingly smiled.

You turn your attention to Mindy. "Don't waste your time on him. He doesn't have the guts to be Ghostface."

Ethan was offended, more than by any other comment you'd thrown at him. Didn't have the guts? He internally scoffs. Maybe he should cut out yours to replace his supposed faulty ones.

As Mindy went to speak on Quinn's sexual habits, tagging her as a suspect, you could feel Ethan's eyes burning holes into the back of your head. You turn to him, narrowing your eyes, before muttering 'what?'

He narrows his own, dragging his gaze along your face. He leans closer to whisper. "You look like you came out of hell."

"Mm, and I'd love to send you there." You hissed back, staying quiet so as not to ruin Mindy's ranting. She can get quite mean when you interrupted her passions.

"You could try." Ethan says, as you turn your head to fully face him. Your faces were close, scowls very present.

"I would try and succeed, Ethan. We both know I'd win."

Ethan scoffs in your face. "You seem awfully confident."

"Again who here has survived a Ghostface attack?" You ask tilting your head. "I can promise it means I have a streak for winning, and I happen to be rather competitive." You lean even closer, whispering in his ear. "You don't stand chance, sweetheart." You mock out the pet name, noticing the way his body tenses. Most likely out of anger.

You lean back putting your full attention on Mindy.

;;

The streets were decently busy with costumed poeple, laughing and joking. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Bringing it out you didn't bother checking the number assuming it was someone from your friend group checking you got home. "I'm fine, just walking—"

"To your apartment, I know." But the voice isn't one of the twins or the sisters.

"I'm sorry, I thought this was someone else." You say, skeptically. You gaze around, trying to see if anyone looked suspicious with a phone. Then when he spoke again, you finally realised and recognised the voice.

"You won't find me." A deep chuckle follows. Ghostface. You immediantly straighten, feeling the familiar shivers wracking your spine.

You clench your jaw. "I don't have time for this."

"Oh, no, you have plenty of time." Ghostface replies. "Because all you're going to do, is walk home, take out another tub of icecream and stare at men you can never have on the screen."

You open and close your mouth, feeling partly offended and the other part nervous. How would he know that? "Why'd you call?" You steer the conversation elsewhere, but Ghostface doesn't seem to want to, continuing on.

"You'd be wearing those little shorts that cover nothing, with that top that shows just how cold you usually are." You pause, swiftly trying to spot him on the street.

"You don't know that."

"Don't I?" You clench your teeth, because you did wear shorts for bed, and yes, they may be on the looser side, but it's not like you went out that late. You stayed home alone. Or so, you had thought.

"You're a creep."

"You sound surprised." Ghostface replies. "You shouldn't be. Though I guess there isn't too much going on in the pretty head of yours."

A snarl edges your lips. "You think you're so high and mighty, being a copycat to murderers who lost." You remind him.

"It's called carrying on the legacy." He quickly remarks, making you scoff. You had quickened your steps across the streets, deciding it best to get inside your apartment and behind a locked door.

"That "legacy" as you call it, sucks." You say, hearing a chuckle in repsonse.

"Does it? Because if I remember correctly, you always felt a shiver run down your spine when you heard my voice." He pauses, his smile practically seeable. "And not in a terrible way at all."

You gulp. "Now you're just making up shit."

"Really?" Ghostface probes. "So you don't feel all hot right now? A small rush from speaking to me, one that makes you excited. You don't feel that?"

Your mouth has dried, as you try to cool your body down, noticing how it—especially your core—heated up as the conversation continued. "Well, I'm sorry to say. But you're wrong. Very wrong."

"Do you want me to find out?" Ghostface asks, making you stop your steps, swiftly glancing around, your chest starting to heave quicker. "Because I'm afraid, I don't believe you, sweetheart."

"Is this some new tactic. Get me vulnerable in a...different way."

"You think me flirting with you is a tactic? Poor girl."

You scoff. "That wasn't flirting."

"Was I too subtle?" He asks, his tone showing his enjoyment.

You grind your teeth, having to stop, as a large group of what appears to be Halloween market-goers blocking the path. "Excuse me." You try, pushing past people, but they don't budge making you scowl at them.

"Are you stuck?" You can hear Ghostface say on the other line. "Do you need help?"

"Hang the fucking phone up. And stop acting like some scary villain, when you're really just some third grader doing prank calls." You hiss, trying again to push past the loud crowd.

Ghostface chuckles, as you end up getting pushed aside against a stall, making you curse. "You seem to have a lot of incorrect assumptions." He begins. 'I'm getting quite offended here."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." You sarcastically say, trying again to weave through the growing crowd.

"You're rather mean actually." He mockingly pouts out.

"And you kill people. Are we done?" You ask, getting exasperated by the phone call and the rude people.

"Not even close." And then you hear the beep of an 'end of call', making you bring the phone away. But before you can do anything more, a hand grabs your arm yanking you through the crowd. You gasp as bodies collide with your fast moving one.

You can't see a thing before you're pushed up against a cold wall, finally away from the crowd, but now in a dark alleyway. You finally see the white mask of Ghostface as he cages you against the wall.

Your chest is heaving as your breathing stutters out, everything having happened extremely fast. Ghostface tilts his head as you hear a dark chuckle breaking through the modulator. "You are stupidly confident."

Words get caught in your throat as you try to swallow something down. "Aw, cat caught your tongue?" He coos, his gloved hand dragging across your neck, making your entire body stiffen. Everyone knew that if you got a call from Ghostface you were marked to die. And here he was, probably preparing to gut you.

You quickly shut your eyes, seeming the only thing you can control at the moment, because you weren't dumb enough to think you could bypass him and run. There's a moment where you just hear Ghostface's heavy breathing, as the distant sound of the halloween market goes on behind you both.

Then you feel the rough material of his glove slowly dragging across your bottom lip. You swiftly open your eyes shocked. You can feel your pulse beating everywhere—everywhere. You can't tell what Ghostface is thinking or where he's looking because of his stupid mask. You tried to see through the thin material made for the eyes but it's too dark to pinpoint anyone's eyes.

"So stupid." He quietly says, almost to himself as his finger drags across the in between of your lips, getting your spit on his finger. You don't know what to do. You don't know what's going on. Why isn't the knife inside you?

Then his hand leads down to grip your neck, beginning to tighten, as your hands quickly fly up to grab his wrist. His other hand is placed by your hip, keeping you trapped. "You're always so arrogant." He says, tightening a fraction. Your throat feels small as your breaths grow shorter.

You dig your nails into his arm and wrist trying to pull him off you. But he doesn't budge, his other hand now grabbing at your waist. "But also so dirty." He husks out, as he pulls your hips to press against his, making a choked gasp escape you. He finally loosens his hold on your throat, just enough so that air can get in much easier.

"What would your friends think, knowing you have a thing for a killer in a mask? The killer in a mask." He sneers, his hand at your waist travelling dangerously low, now reaching your inner thigh.

"What—" But you cut yourself off as Ghostface pulls your legs apart, lifting one to rest on his hip. Your eyes widen upon feeling how hard he is against your shameful, throbbing pussy. His hand drops down to feel your wetness through your panties, your skirt having bunched up by your hips at the compromising postion.

Your mouth is open in shock. Ethan behind the mask stares at you, as he feels just how turned on you really are. His chest is heaving, as his bulge begs for attention. Why was he grabbing you like this? He hated you. He had wanted to scare, if he ended up particually mad possibly kill you, hurt you maybe. But certainly not touch you.

But as he had begun to realise your very secret crush on Ghostface he used it to his advantage. But in the process of thinking what a slut you are, he began to think on how you could be a slut for him. Begging for him to touch you as pathetic whimpers and moans escaped you. How pathetic you'd look all for him.

His grip around your neck tightened before loosening, moving up to your open mouth as he stuck two fingers in, wanting to feel your mouth wrapping around them, wanting to see your spit on his glove. "Suck them."

Your eyes stayed wide, as you stared at the now very intimidating Ghostface. You slowly closed your mouth around his fingers as your tongue began to circle the tangy tasting farbic. "That's it..." He breathes as he began to thrust them in and out of your mouth, your spit now coating your lips as you sucked. "Look at you, such a slut for a mystery guy with a knife."

Behind the mask, his eyes had hooded, his cock now aching at the visual. You were powerless against him, and that rush made him, bypass your panties, reaching to drag his gloved finger right up your slit, spreading your wetness around. Your hips jolted into him as he rubs over your clit, a sound that seemed close to a whine coming out muffled through his working fingers.

As Ethan watched you suck his fingers, while he rubbed your aching pussy he felt this need to kiss you, lick up all the saliva that had drippled onto your bottom lip. But he couldn't take his mask of yet. He wanted you to know who was giving you so much pleasure when you were at your peak, begging for him. Ethan felt undeniably smug at the thought of you cumming onto his fingers. The boy you hated.

He then—as compensation for his waiting—thrusted a finger inside you without warning. "God—that was so easy. You're just that wet for me, that your little hole was so eager to let me in." His breath through the mask is by your ear as you shuddered. He pulled his now dripping fingers out of your mouth, spreading your spit across your bottom lip as your dazed gaze makes him move his hand to your neck, loving how small it felt in his grasp.

He grinned behind the mask as he added a second finger, pumping in and out of you. Your hands were gripping at his cloak, your mind a haze of pleasure, as you had begun to grind into his hand. "Fuck, your such a little slut, letting me finger you in an alleyway. Someone could find you, you know?"

A whimper escaped you as he curled his fingers inside you. "Such a naughty girl being so dirty for Ghostface."

"Shit—" You breathed harshly, as his thrusts quickened.

You could feel your stomach contgracting with your impending orgasm, and Ethan could tell by how hard you clenched around his fingers. He stopped inside you, making a pathetic whine leave your lips, your orgasm so so close.

"P-please." You say, breathless, as you try to thrust your hips into his fingers wanting friction. But Ethan just pushed you harder against the wall, keeping you still. He then brought his hand to his mask, finally thrusting his fingers into you again as you moan.

He pulled off his mask, not being able to wait before kissing you. You gasp through the kiss not having expected him to take of his mask, or feel his lips at all. Your eyes had immediantly shut as he sucked on your bottom lip, his tongue esploring your mouth eagerly.

And as he finally drew back, breath heavy, you met his gaze. You gasped with a mix of suprise, and pleasure. His fingers having quickened inside you. "What—" You choke, as Ethan grins, his curls a mess, as he stays pressed to your shaking body. "E-ethan?'

"Hi, y/n." He grins as your mouth opens in pleasure as you stutter out incoherently. "Shh," Ethan chuckles, curling his fingers inside you. "I didn't know you were such a slut." He says, as the sound of your arousel fills the otherwise distant noises.

"Actually that's a lie," He begins. "I knew how much of a slut you really were, having a thing for Ghostface..." He thrusts harder into you, your stomach tightening.

"Oh god— Ethan—" Pleasure crashes over you as your head hits back against the hard wall, your body shaking as your orgasm courses through you.

"Mm." Ethan hums as he slows inside you, continuing to watch as your face contorts in pleasure, all because of him. "I thought you hated me."

"I did. I do." You quickly say, as your body feels extremely heavy, your mind trying to wrap around the truth that was revealed.

Ethan shakes his head, leaning towards your ear, licking your earlobe. "Then why moan my name?"

"I—" You didn't know what to say. Because you had. And you had felt very far from hatred when you saw his familiar brown curls come into view.

Ethan felt powerful with how stuck you were. Physically and mentally. His breath tickled your now wet ear, his kitten licks having continued. "Do you wanna show me just how much of a crush you have on Ghostface, or do you wanna try and prove how much you hate me?"

You met his gaze and knew you were fucked. Physically and mentally.

A better way to put it would be entirely.

#. ( psychos )#the ethan effect #ethan landry #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #jack champion #jack champion x reader #scream 6 #jack champion x y/n #scream #ethan landry smut #jack champion smut #scream smut #scream 6 smut

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

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Tiny Vox part 2?

Idk if you'll use this but I just want to give it to you.

I kind of headcannon tiny vox the be dumber, because the unprepared small body can't load all his data very well. So I imagine Vox, being stupidly in love, trying the help them when they are doing the dishes or working on their hobby bit he is just making more of a mess and smiling dumbly in love. Like when reader likes to draw heb grabs a random coloured pencil and bring it to them. You know just adorable but unhelpful.

Pocket-sized Partner: VoxPet™️ Care Guide

Tiny!Vox x Reader

A/N: So uhhh- here's a teeny little Headcanon thing while I write the continuation for the VoxPet series because I love smol TV guy. That and I'm starting to slightly feel the burnout, well- I can't tell if that's the right term since I'm starting to look at my ideas and realize that they're starting to lack the coherence and polish they used to. ANYWAY! Here's a Headcanon list for the small guy before I post the continuation for it- so I hope you guys enjoy! Happy reading!

So given Vox's mostly bionic/mechanical biology, it makes sense that he doesn't necessarily regenerate the same as other more organic(flesh-based) sinners.

Instead, he has spare bodies to upload his consciousness and switch into if the one he's using gets damaged and needs repairs or is just not worth saving.

Hence he has a couple spares lying around.

It's just in this instance, the only spare he had left was in a less than desirable condition-

And the others were still broken or just beyond repair.

Having a his brain be it's own practical digital entity also plays into this, I'd think in his paranoia he'd have copies of his own data stored in cloud servers all over the pride ring too.

So it won't be easy should someone try to get rid of him.

Anyway, back to the body switching.

So this new body Vox took is a very underpowered and overutilized little thing.

Imagine running a Skyrim with over a thousand mods on the highest graphics using a 7 year old dell laptop.

Yeah. That's what Vox is currently doing.

The small body is already running at full capacity with his overload of data and it's not even all of it.

Just the basic necessities like his personality and habits.

Like, what make Vox- vox.

Everything else like his schedules, alarms, work, etc.

They're just uploaded to a cloud server with the rest of his complete data.

Oh I forgot to mention, in his haste to make this tiny cute form-

He totally forgot to give it the ability to form even basic speech patterns.

Hence the squeaking and beeping.

He actually can't talk, not that the small body would even have any more processing room if he did do that.

Vox merely figured that you'd probably find some enjoyment anyway in his predicament until the new spare parts arrived and he didn't want to keep moving around dripping coolant and blood accompanied by some sparking wires.

Let's not even mention the cracked screen.

His face being messed up was probably the least of his issues there too.

So you kind of had to take care of him as that small little guy in that hastily put together body.

Also, because it's so underpowered and practically at it's peak use-

Vox can't actually really use his powers much.

Which he didn't realize only until after he flipped out when Velvette and Valentino found him when the staff were panicking from him suddenly going AWOL.

In this tiny body, he only has his generally human memorization skills to recall important things.

Not his flawless computer memory, which was lumped in with the data this body couldn't hold.

He did thank his lucky stars that you weren't so upset about the state he was in though.

You'd often flip the hell out when he got hurt or just had blatant disregard for his own wellbeing.

I mean, when you can switch bodies like the socks on your feet would you be careful too?

I wouldn't, I'd try every single way to die just out of sheer curiosity and boredom-

Anyway, after you got over the initial shock of seeing your boyfriend all plushie sized and everything-

You better bet he got fucking spoiled.

Literally like a chihuahua in a purse moment.

Y'all know those build a bear clothes and accessories?

Yeah no you'd dress Vox up and down in those tiny things and he just couldn't stop you.

He could figure out how to delete all the photos you'd taken when he got back to normal.

But if being treated like a doll was all it took for you to just drown him in kisses and hugs-

You better bet this man would go ahead and pull something like this again.

Plus the compulsion to just aggressively cuddle the life out of him-

Well he's already dead but the point stands.

He can't help but soak up your affection like a thirsty sponge though.

You do eventually realize that he actually has to be plugged in to recharge though.

Plugged in by a port on the back of his teeny head.

What, where did you think he'd put it?

You're glad that Vox tends to leave all sorts of cords of different lengths around your apartment.

Something to do with his work?

You had half a brain to tie him up with those said cords sometimes-

It was irritating at first but after you organized them to keep, at least you didn't dispose of them since you needed them now-

For once the hardware spaghetti was actually useful.

And thank goodness for the long wire, because he'd become extremely clingy after all the attention and affection you'd given him.

Tiny dude was sitting on your lap being pet and coddled while charging.

All while you were reading a book.

Yep. He was a spoiled little shit.

You also realized that he didn't need to eat because of the charging thing-

But he could if he wanted to.

As proven when Vox just took a small part of your meal and slowly ate it.

It wasn't even a full bite for you but it looked comically big in his tiny hands.

He installed a proper digestive system but not a text to speech thing.

Sometimes you wondered if your boyfriend's priorities were a little more wayside that you originally took them for.

He was so cute trying to help you with the dishes though.

Couldn't really do much because of how small he was-

Not to mention the fact you didn't even want to risk any more damage to him since electronics and water are generally not a good mix-

But he tried, and you'd count him being adorable as helpful emotional support anyway.

Even if he really didn't do anything aside from play with the bubbles and smile cutely at you.

If he didn't have an empire and corporation to run you might actually just keep him like this-

Even when you were looking over at some documents his secretary sent over to sign-

You guessed it was because Vel mentioned that Vox was in your care for the time being.

He was wobbling around holding a pen that was probably half his size.

Again cute as hell, but an unhelpful distraction-

Now when you went to sleep?

You plugged Vox in again and just cuddled him against your chest.

The same thing happens when he "sleeps" whether big or in this form anyway.

Screen dims and then his company logo screensaver pops up.

Anyway, I say sleep in quotations because Vox doesn't actually sleep in the conventional sense.

It's just one of the many ways he can physically recharge.

So if he does sleep it's often by choice or because he just passes out.

If he wanted to keep going physically, Vox could just directly connect himself into a power outlet and not ever run out of juice.

Mentally though- it's why he actually needs our version of sleep.

Or periods of system shutdown where he can actually mentally recuperate.

Otherwise he'd be a cracked out delirious mf hyped up on caffeine.

Which he is sometimes regardless.

Either way, you'd pet and cuddle him until he fell asleep before you would also succumb to slumber.

When you woke up though, he somehow ended up cuddling your face.

You had no idea when that even happened.

He greeted you with a happy beep and a heart on his tiny face when you woke up though.

It was probably selfish as hell but now you really wanted to keep him like this just a little longer-

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x you #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

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bonny-kookoo · 5 months

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Hi bonny ninny, ruu here

I like your 'Why not' & 'How so' series.

I feel like oc is tone sensitive. Would you write a drabble where Jungkook uses a tone which hurts & upsets oc. Like they are not even arguing but something about tobe hurts her. How would Jungkook consoles her? They would be so cute in this DDLG theme. 🥺

"At this rate I'm gonna have to sleep back at my place again." Jungkook laughs, as he watches you make your bed, adjusting all the different stuffed animals.

You're not sure what exactly he means by that. Or more so, how serious he is.

You don't want him to sleep back at his place and leave you alone- you've become too attached and fond of his late night cuddling and the way he warms up the bed beneath the blankets, but you also love your stuffed animals too much to give them away, or let them simply sit on a shelf. Is he making you choose?

Do you want to choose?

The entire rest of the early day, you can't stop overanalyzing his words, no matter what. You're suddenly hyper-sensitive to the way he says stuff, the tone of his voice, the words he uses, or his body language accompanying every sentence. Is he really that annoyed by you and your habits? But you thought he liked you the way you really are?

"Let me do that for you." He says as you stir in the pot preparing some warm food for the two of you, hand taking the spoon from you. "Can't have you making a mess again like last time." He chuckles, but something in the way he shakes his head just.. makes you feel oddly guilty.

You're not that good at keeping up attention to one thing only for long. You're not sure why- it's not even that you can't cook, you just start doing ten things at once, and just like last time, a few days prior, things boil over and spill, or stuff almost burns in the pan or the oven almost stays on for too long. You can't help it.

Maybe he's starting to have second thoughts. Just like you feared.

"M' sorry." You mumble when he places the filled up bowl in front of you, hand stuttering a bit as he frowns.

"What're you sorry for?" He wonders, sitting down across from you, watching how you only reluctantly pick up your spoon to swirl it around in your bowl, watching the ingredients dance around in the broth. "Eyes up here, baby." He requests, and you do so- though only for a second.

"I'll.. try and put the plushies away." You explain, looking down again. "And I'll concentrate better when cooking too. And I'll start making sure I'll keep track of my own stuff and-" You rant, but he reaches out to hold your hand, stopping you.

"What's brought that up?" He wonders, confused. "You don't have to get rid of stuff, and neither do you need to do better at anything." He offers.

"But I'm annoying you." You say, meekly. "You said you won't sleep here anymore with all the stuffies in my bed-"

"Oh fuck, baby, no-" He sighs, laughing a bit to himself. "How long has that been bubbling up inside you?" He asks, and you shrug. "I'm sorry if I made it seem like I was upset at you. I was just picking on you a little- I didn't mean to make you feel like you did something wrong." He reassures.

"But you're right?" You answer, and he shakes his head again.

"Am I?" He chuckles. "You love your stuffed animals. I know you've got a name for each and every one of them, and that's cute. And they don't bother me at all, since you put them on the carpet every night anyways- it just looks funny with how much space they take up during the day." Jungkook explains. "And I also know that you've got a bit of trouble staying focused, so I'm not mad when you get a bit sidetracked while cooking. If anything, I only worry sometimes, which is why I tend to take over sometimes, to make sure you don't get hurt." He moves on. "I really don't mind keeping your doctors appointments or other stuff in mind. I don't mind doing stuff for you, or taking care of you. I really don't." He presses on. "I love you the way you are. I'd be stupid to try and change you."

"I don't know why I thought you meant something bad." You mumble, and he yet again just smiles.

"It was most likely my tone. Let's make an agreement, alright?" He says, and you nod. "I'll be more clear to tell you when I'm only making fun- and you'll tell me if you think I'm being too mean."

You nod at that, glad that it was only a huge misunderstanding-

happy that you were wrong after all.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic

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ingravinoveritas · 2 months

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Did you see this picture yet? The first thing I realized was Michael's hand on David's back and their lovely smiles.

Hello! Yes, I did certainly see this group picture that was posted this morning, after every other picture had been posted. This is from Georgia's Insta, so for those who haven't seen the original post, here is a screenshot, along with a close-up of Michael and David, so we can see a little better:

It seems that Georgia's hashtag has been causing some confusion due to her use of an idiomatic expression, so for non-native speakers, the word "tits" has multiple meanings--colloquially, it's another word for breasts, but in British slang, a "tit" also refers to someone who is a fool or an idiot. So Georgia is saying here that she has tits, Anna has tits, and Michael and David are a pair of "tits" (idiots), which gives us the number three.

I did notice and enjoy that there is a "beading" theme to this picture, between David's suit and Anna's dress. I actually very much like her dress and how flattering it is, and it's something I would wear myself, although probably in a different color than white. I also love the way David's jacket sparkles, and there is something about him wearing it while standing next to Michael (who looks one box of bleach away from Aziraphale) that makes it have even more of a "the angel and the Starmaker" vibe to it. Because it's them. You know?

That was a large part of the impression I had of this picture, as it were. Of there being two distinct couples here, but perhaps not the couples you'd assume. It actually reminds me a lot of the picture that the four of them took in Lapland last year, which also looked like two gay couples rather than two straight ones. They all seem to look very comfortable in this arrangement as well, in a way that I felt was somewhat absent from a few of the pictures that were posted yesterday.

To your point, though, I did notice Michael's hand on David, and the warmth that radiated out just from that single touch. His hand is also noticeably low on David's waist, which echoes how we've seen Michael with his arm around David in the past, and is a lovely complement to David's hand being near Michael's neck. Michael's hair is also a bit disheveled compared to the red carpet photos, and I love the idea of it being messed up from a snogging session he and David were having in a coat closet before the girls pulled them out for a pic. Actually possible? Maybe, maybe not. But it's still a delicious thought.

Another thing I noticed is that there is something to the way Michael and David draw the eye in this picture. Georgia and AL are posing/smiling in the same exact way they do in every group picture...although unlike the others, this one wasn't a selfie, and so I wonder if that could be why they seem to be giving off a sense of discomfort to the camera. With Michael and David, the feeling is more one of hesitation. The warmth and crackliness and connection is still there, of course, but it's also almost as if they're holding back, somehow. Which doesn't seem very much like them, at least from what we've all see over the years.

It is a nice picture overall, though, which makes it unfortunate that Georgia's caption sort of takes away from the moment a bit. And given that she's been in the habit of adding these types of cutting comments/tags to a lot of her recent posts, it feels less like "British humor" and more like knowingly taking a dig at Michael and David. She could have just as easily posted the group pic without the hashtag, so at least for me, that's what makes her using it feel so deliberate.

So those are my thoughts on the Oliviers group picture. I am glad that we actually did get one of Michael and David, and to know that they did have the chance to interact at the event. I'd love to hear what other folks think as well, so feel free to add your perspective in the comments. Thanks for writing in! x

#analumina #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #georgia tennant #olivier awards #it's also interesting that Michael feels like the buffer between one side of this picture and the other #to where it doesn't feel like a group picture but two pictures taken separately #and if you can't see the difference between AL/Georgia and Michael/David at this point #i don't even know what to tell you #choices #not all of them good #but i will leave it to my followers to make up their own minds #anna lundberg #relationships #ineffable lovers #discourse

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remcycl333 · 1 year

Text

STATES FAQ

the most frequently asked questions about states and the law of assumption, all in one place!

Q: is states a method?

A: no! states is not a method. you can't decide that you don't want to use states, because you are always in a state no matter what!

Q: what do i do if i can't imagine?

A: everyone can imagine!! imagination ≠ visualization. even if you have aphantasia (like me) and can't see images in your mind, you can still imagine! you can imagine in words, sounds, feelings, even smells!

imagination: the faculty or action of forming new ideas, or images or concepts of external objects not present to the senses.

Q: how do you "feel it to be real"?

A: think about how it would feel to have your desire! maybe you'd feel calm, relief, excitement, contentedness, peace, etc. this is the feeling you're looking for. now, whenever you do methods, such as visualization, affirming, scripting, etc, your goal is to conjure this feeling! that is how you feel it real: you feel how you'd feel if you already had it.

note: you don't have to feel it real every single time you enter the state of the wish fulfilled!

Q: what if I have a lot of desires I want to fulfill at once? do I imagine all of them being in the wish fulfilled state or should I focus on one after another? I am also worried since I don't really remember all of my desires by heart.

A: i'm sure we're all familiar with the idea of blanket affirmations such as "i have everything i want." it's just like that! embody the state of being someone who has everything they want, or the state of having your dream life!

your subconscious is super smart, so it remembers every one of your desires even if your conscious mind doesn't! if you want to write a list of all your desires down, you can do that! or you can script a scene that implies you have all of these desires if that's a method you'd prefer! if you want to focus on them separately, you can do that too!

every time you've noticed you've fallen out of the state of having everything you want (negative thoughts are indicators of that) shift back to your desired state!

Q: how long should it take on average to receive your desire in the 3d after your state has changed?

A: as soon as the state of the wish fulfilled becomes your dwelling state, it will manifest into your 3d! sadly there's no set time on how long it takes for a state to become your dwelling state. it depends on you! to make sure your desired state becomes your dwelling state as fast as possible, make sure you're returning to your desired state every time you notice you've fallen out of it!

Q: how do you know if you're in sabbath/what is sabbath?

A: being in the sabbath state basically just means that you know your desire is yours and you've accepted it as a FACT that its yours! and now you don't feel the need to do anything to get it bc you know you already have it. or for some people you feel like you don't even want your desire anymore, even though you know you do!

it's kinda like when you want a new phone really bad, and then once you get it, after a while it just feels normal for you to have it. you no longer want it really badly, because you already have it. even though you still love your phone and are happy you have it, you're used to it! you don't feel like you need to do anything to get this phone anymore, because it's already yours! that's basically what the sabbath state feels like!

Q: how do i get over the feeling that i have to monitor my every thought?

A: i went through this too! what really helped me was allowing myself to think of other things. so whenever i'd doubt or begin to overthink, i'd just reassure myself i already had my desire and there was nothing i needed to do, and then make myself think of something else. monitoring my thoughts had become a habit, so i broke it by allowing (even forcing) myself to think of other things!

Q: tips on doubts/overthinking?

A: what helps me the most is to remind myself that my desire is already mine in the 4D, no matter what thoughts pop up in my conscious mind. your thoughts don't manifest, so your doubts won't manifest either unless you dwell in them.

something else i've always done--which might be a little unconventional idk--is tell myself that the only reason im having doubts or overthinking is because im sooo close to manifesting my desire and my conscious mind knows that and is trying to sabotage me. is this actually what's happening? prob not but i just tell myself it is (thoughts don't manifest so it doesn't matter if i think this) and let it the idea motivate me to get back on track. you don't have to do this, but i am very used to the idea of self-sabotaging myself, so by explaining it to myself like this makes it easier for me to continue persisting,

also, don't expect to be perfect at manifesting right away! the more you continue to go back to the state of the wish fulfilled, the easier and easier it will get. you will notice less and less doubts pop up! don't let the fact that you get doubts prevent you from trying! it;s like learning how to ride a bike: you fall off every other second whenever you start, but with time and practice, you start to be able to stay on the bike longer and longer. eventually, it's smooth sailing and you never fall!! but if you had given up the first few times you fell off, you wouldn't have gotten to the good part!

Q: how do I know if I am stuck in the state of lack?

A: you're never stuck in any state, that state is just your dwelling state. and you know the state of lack is your dwelling state because the thoughts that naturally enter your day about your desire are negative! you can easily shift to another state, you're not stuck in any one state!

Q: do i have to visualize?

A: nope! visualization is simply a method. it's not a requirement at all!

Q: what is the difference between dominant thoughts and states?

A: the definition of the law of assumption if you look it up on google: The Law of Assumption is a means of manifesting desires by having a state of mind and the feeling that those desires, wishes, and aspirations have been fulfilled. Neville Goddard (who introduced this law), explains that achieving the desired goal has everything to do with your state of mind rather than mere action.

the definition of the law of attraction on google: The law of attraction is a philosophy suggesting that positive thoughts bring positive results into a person's life, while negative thoughts bring negative outcomes.

in the law of assumption, your state is what manifests. it's what Neville has always taught. once again, let's revisit this Neville quote: “You do not command things to appear by your words or loud affirmations. Such vain repetition is more often than not confirmation of the opposite. Decreeing is ever done in consciousness. That is; every man is conscious of being that which he has decreed himself to be.”

basically, you can repeat an affirmation (or thought) five thousand times a day, but if you haven't changed your dwelling state, it's not going to matter.

affirmations are for your conscious mind. your subconscious responds to feeling, not to thoughts or images or actions. you can repeat affirmations to help soothe yourself and assure yourself you have your desire. and you can also use them to create the feeling of the wish fulfilled within yourself. you can use all methods to create this feeling. they're not what gets you into the state, but they can help you maintain the state.

Q: is state another name for feeling of wish fulfilled? and if it is, why is it called states now because Neville has literally sworn by the fact that all one need to manifest desires is the feeling of wish fulfilled?

A: Neville has always said you need to get into the STATE of mind of someone who already has your desire. aka the STATE of the WISH FULFILLED. the wish fulfilled is a state, just like there's a state of lack. when you have the feeling of the wish fulfilled, you are in the state of the wish fulfilled. and this will manifest once it becomes your dwelling state

Q: how is ignoring an opposing the thought the same as shifting back to TSOTWF?

A: as i've described in my posts about states, you enter a state by intention. so if you notice an opposing thought pop up and you decide to ignore it bc it's not what u want, you are intending to shift back to the state where you do have your desire. you are ignoring that thought because you don't want to identify with it, and the reason you don't identify with it is because you want to opposite of it. so intention can really be as small and simple as that!

Q: is it normal that at first i can't hold the state for a long time?

A: yeah! don't force yourself to hold the state for long periods of time, it's not necessary! it's really about which state you go back to the most frequently, not how long you can hold a state!

Q: when i enter my desired state, i don't naturally have thoughts that i have my desire. does that mean i'm not in the state?

A: don't expect to start naturally having thoughts from the state of the wish fulfilled when you just start manifesting something! the more you shift to your desired state throughout the day, the easier it will get and the longer you will stay in the state. as your desired state becomes your dwelling state, that's when you'll start naturally having thoughts that you would if you already had your desire.

Q: when i shift back to my desired state by reminding myself that i have my desire, i DO NOT feel anything. Is this ok?

A: yeah! when i shift back to my desired state throughout the day, if im in the middle of doing something, i don't feel anything at all! i focus more on the feeling of knowing while im doing methods, to ensure im doing them not to get my desire, but to experience already have it in my 4d! but when you're just quickly shifting yourself back to the state of the wish fulfilled while you're busy doing something else, it's not necessary to feel anything!

Q: how to remain in a state despite 3d showing unwanted reality?

A: it is okay to fall out of the state! you don't have to get into a state and then stay in it until it manifests in order for it to become your dwelling state! you make the state of the wish fulfilled your dwelling state by going back to it more times than you go back to the state of lack. so if something in your 3d make you fall out of the state, that's okay, just shift back into it! don't feel pressure to be in the state 24/7!

Q: how to know if you're truly fulfilled or just in a good mood but still in a “lack” state?

A: your state creates your thoughts, so if you're still in the state of lack, you will have opposing thoughts about your desire! you wouldn't be able to have "good" thoughts about your desire if you weren't in the state of the wish fulfilled!

Q: how to consistently satisfy the inner man without seeing it as a step to manifest something into your 3d?

A: don't force yourself to do a method you don't want to do! don't force yourself to visualize the same scene someone else even though it doesn't create any feeling of knowing inside of you and feels like a chore to you. don't repeat affirmations if you don't want to and don't repeat an aff you don't resonate with. do what you think is fun! and do what feels natural to you! by taking the pressure of being perfect off yourself, it's easier to imagine in order to experience, rather than to get it in your 3d.

also if you're just not in the mood to imagine or do a method, don't do it! fulfilling yourself can be as simple as shifting into the state and then going on with your day!

Q: how do i fulfill my imagination without feeling delusional?

A: remember that you can do or be absolutely anything in your imagination! you don't have think that what you see in your 4d is happening right now in your 3d! you just have to know its happening in your 4d, and it clearly is because you are imagining it! your 3d will reflect your 4d, but you don't have to focus on that fact while imagining! imagine to experience, not to get. your imagination is your safe space, you can have anything you want in there, and it's not delusional to imagine yourself as someone who has what you want!

you might be putting too much pressure on imagining, when really it should be fun and natural. remember, your imagining to feel as though your inner man already has it, not to manifest it into your outer world (even though it will naturally do that on its own)!

Q: is it really possible to manifest anything you want?

A: yup! your imagination creates your reality, so if you can imagine something, you can manifest it into your reality!

#states

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cherizzx · 2 months

Text

My Perfect

L x Chubby Reader

A.N: ( See even though im like late I STILL POSTED! im on like grind yall but, this man so fine I'm like i must write my deepest soul wrenching words about him)

I'm not perfect.

That's it. I tried every day as a kid to be perfect; pretty hair, small frame, soft voice everything to look desirable to others I tried to be. In high school I needed to be bold, thicker but not too thick, tall but too tall; never speak overly passionate it was a turn off, don't wear too much makeup it's like I'm a slut, and never can venture out and find a comfortable look for me. I never let the girl inside eat.

I wasn't berated though? Yes, I got stares when I wore something sitting and people saw my stomach, like yes mothafucka I got a stomach y'all thought it was a huge ass pot in my shirt? Yes, I did get the ' I'm sO cOnFideNt!' talk when I ate something like fruit, who doesn't like pineapple? When shopping I had looks of could I fit this or that and nobody ever comforted me when I would cry about not fitting jeans.

I was never perfect. But he never cared.

*Back to when Light didn't find the Death Note yet*

" What are you having for lunch?" was asked by my closest coworker, Maria she and I was friends since our college days when cramming information about law, statistics, and for some reason Shakespeare; we were forever. I turned to her in this damn rolling chair that was obviously not made for a girl with that thang back there, I mean why is half my leg practically on the floor? I thought about it for a second.

" I could go for quick burger, what about you?

" That's fine! Also did you finish your report? I didn't even get to..." I just stared at her though my head in space, Maria turned to see what I'm looking at and she saw a strange man walking inside the room.

" Um...I don't think he works here?"

" Is this when we got to fight for our lives? I don't have no weapon."

The man tall, dark unruly hair not curly though it looks like a one of those emo people from the 2000's like my chemical romance vibes, he has a homeless man look on him...its kind of sexy thought but, he doesn't work here?

We watch him while towards us and goes to the head manager cubicle that two rows ahead of us. We look at each other and look down acting like we're working but, we really being nosy. We hear only indicant chatter and the strange man's voice, his name is Riuzaki? Or Rukai? I don't know and our manager asked again, and he ignored the question and started talking about something different. Kind of rude but, with the way our manager is I'd do the same; Maria looks at me and looks at the time and tells me it our lunch break so, we both get up and I make sure to push down my jacket a habit I did as a teen to look slimmer, we walk out and down the little pathway to the front of the office when we get close to the strange man I turn my head down, his eyes immediately traced to me and he stared at me and he turned, kind of weird his eye contact was intense!

We walked over to the company lunch places inside it's a tiny burger spot filled with American dishes; we haven't really eaten there so we decided to try it out since it was also raining. Maria order first, a chicken salad with extra chicken and cheese with a large drink and dessert then it's me, a cheeseburger with fries and a large drink with a cookie; we wait a bit and sat down at a two-seat table and we talk about the sight we just saw.

" I wonder if he's trying to get a job here? "

" For what though? we ain't got nothing available yet."

" What if they fired somebody!? I heard but I didn't hear from department C that somebody was overusing company resources and they got let go."

" Omg, who?" Maria was going to say but we hear a buzz, and our food was ready we grabbed a tray and the person who gave us our orders gives me a look, ya'know the look of ' Breaking that diet huh?' Its common but still is annoying so I mean mug him back and he backs off. Sitting down we talk about our topics of choice like vacations, fashion trends, the latest news when the man from earlier comes down; didn't even see him till he pulled up a chair beside me and stared. Like what?

" Oh, Hello!" I introduced myself and Maria does the same, but how says nothing and stared at me.

" Are you going to eat that?" He points at a strawberry cookie I got, I look and shake my head "no' even though I was saving it I give it to him and smiled. He takes it and thanks me and then turned to Maria and asked how she feels about the company. Now, Maria is a sweet girl but, if she can't say her opinion without lying so she tries to say it's wonderful but, he caught on.

" Don't lie. I'm not going to do anything."

" Oh! but I'm not! really it's a won-"

" Your eyes turned up, when some people lie, they eyes turn up to think of somethings. Your hands turned over into a clasped position saying you're more of nervous than calm when I asked."

She's shocked and so am I, he takes a bite of the cookie and then looks at me to which I look away and he stares at me; deep black eyes pierced into, and I just look away because if I looked back what if he jumps me and I gotta kick and scream like that would be so embarrassing!

" Are you nervous?

" No, never"

" Hm...You look uncomfortable" He continued eating and I looked at Maria with a head tilt.

" So, what's making me uncomfortable."

" Your clothes, your shoes are hurting your feet by the way you walked quickly, and you have the heels of them off" He responded quickly, and I was shocked I mean he didn't lie. I just look and Maria excused her and mouthed ' Whoop his ass' and went to the bathroom, so now it's just us. We look at each other and I just shook my head and began eating again. He just looks at me and then turns his body towards me completely.

" What?"

" Do you like your position here?"

If I had the choice between working here and $20, I would pick $20 and a bag of skittles, it has it benefits from time to time but it not worth the headaches and long hours and I tell him just that. He hums and says nobody ever been that honest and I could care less, I listen and eat when he asked another question.

" If you're really don't like how you look why don't you change it"

It wasn't even a question it was like a statement like he knew, he knew from when he stared at me, he watched me. I look at him shocked and I just chuckled and threw the rest of my food away and left, texting Maria that I got sick. Walking away I see him get up and follow me, so ignored him; he just walked beside me and just looks either at me or around him hunched over like he finna throw up. Like what compells somebody to say that? Did he think I'm the one to try to play around with thing you'll get a good joke ooutta me? I should've shoved that damn drink up his stuck up ugy big headed-

" Your mumbling"

"...ok"

" If what I said made you mad just say it"

" If I did I'll go to jail for man slaughter."

He just chuckled, even though I'm pissed he sounded a little smexyyy but, I'll still beat his ass. I keep walking towards the parking lot, and he grabbed my arm asking can he be honest.

" I mean if back there wasn't honest I don't know what is"

He just stared (he got a staring problem) and began talking about how he meant that he saw me adjusting my jacket a habit he saw a lot of girls do when they want to look slimmer, then he saw the look his manger gave us me when I walked past, he said it was in utter disgust. As he went on all the insecurities from the past came again the girl inside of me just began to show, I looked at him blank, my hands started to sweat, my thoughts ran through me like a train, and I couldn't hold it anymore as a sob slipped through like butter from my mouth. I wiped my face and took a deep breath.

" Being a girl in Japan is hard, being black in Japan is harder, being a fat girl and black in Japan is like a war zone every day in my mind. From stares, to the so called ' complements', to everything inside growing out of me is like a constant war zone. Having men look at me like a 3rd class citizen is the problem, having girls treat me like I'm beneath them was the problem and no one had a problem with it."

" But who could care? It's not like I can change what they say with the attitude they expect from a black girl. I'm not perfect but, they wanted me to be and how am I going to achieve that? Huh?"

I stopped for one second and he just said nothing, all the bottled-up feelings I've had just overwhelmed me and I overshared.

" I think your perfect"

" Lying is a sin ya'know"

" Then good I'm an atheist. Your look is perfect."

How can somebody look perfect? With a body like this, my skin to people in this country are like a permanent plague, and my hair is just a warning to them on its own. I am not perfect, but he thinks I am. He's trying to help me feel better and it's not going to work.

" If this is perfect then-'

" You're not going to believe something if you denie it so much."

This man says that beautiful is different to everyone, like what people grew up with which is skinny, fair skin, and cute people they think it's a standard and everyone that's not all three of those traits are ugly. He said the way I feel is how he felt as a child he was never built manly, he was always so small and skinny people thought he was sick. It never bothered him; he seemed wiser as a kid then the whole world at its years; I couldn't even disagree with any statements I always found how people views change when they see unique things or common things and associate them with ugliness or beauty.

" For a homeless man your very smart"

"...I'm not homeless."

" Oh...then why you dress like you've seen a clothing store in life."

" I have seen a clothing store. I just don't see the appeal of dressing up."

He's an emo hippie. But nevertheless, I just listen and make my own few points. We continued walking and he stops me again.

" What's your name?"

" Reader Last Name, and your?

" Call me L"

' Hello L"

" Hello Reader"

Now we walk in comfortable silence, by the time I'm by the garage L asked for my number, his contact now ' Emo Hippie' and mines?

'My Perfect'

A.N: ( i finshed! I love this one because i feel this irl about my body type but, i got over it and it's kind of hard to write L's dialogue without making him sound rude because he's only nonchalant. But, let me know if you like it!

#black fem reader #x black reader #chubby reader #black reader #x chubby reader #death note #l x reader #body image #cherizzx

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gauloiseblue · 2 months

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Gaz x cook!reader. We all can tell army food is shit but dam can you make a bowl of mush taste like heaven. And it seems your skills have gotten through the belly and to the heart of the 141's pretty boi leaving him head over heels for your adorable form. Dressed in a head scarf, to keep hair out of your face, and an adorable apron brought from home all he wants is that pretty smile directed at him.

A/N: I noticed that cook!reader has become a trend in this fandom nowadays? Not that I'm complaining. Also, *crack my knuckles* it's time to write a jealous boy

The first time he tasted the food at the new base, he thought his tastebud was playing trick on him. Because there's no was a mere rice could taste this good.

But his confusion only lasted for a second, because he saw his friends made the same expression.

"Bloody hell," His captain grunted, "I don't mind gettin' tough missions if I get to eat this food everyday."

"Cheers to that." He chuckled as he scooped a spoonful of rice.

At that time, he didn't know who were the cooks yet, but he's determined to find out.

The kitchen in the military base isn't as strict as restaurant's one, so people can come in and out of the room. He uses that opportunity to pay a 'visit' to where you're stationed.

Judging by your uniform, you're not the head of the chef. But the one who runs around, checking each of the stations is you. He spots a few soldiers who stand at a distance (he soon found out that it's for hygienic reason, to minimize the contamination in the kitchen) while trying to talk with you. Unlike a cold-faced chef who hates distractions, you politely respond to them, while focusing on your job at the same time.

That sparks something in him, as he finds himself wanting to get to know you. But he knows better than disturbing you in your working hour.

Those soldiers might be lucky to get your attention for now, but he's confident that he'll get thrice as much sooner or later.

The kitchen's busy at the time when the soldiers are on the break, but when it's time for training, you and the other chefs would get the time to rest. So he, as a member of the special force, gets the privilege to arrange his schedule.

He starts his training earlier, so by the time he finishes, he'll get the time to visit the kitchen. The chefs like to hang out at the break room, but when he walks in, he finds that you're not there, so he goes to the second location.

In the back of the kitchen, there's a pantry where the food ingredients are stored. He had a feeling that you'd be there, so he went there.

And he's right.

You had just checked the tomatoes when he knocked on the door. The sound makes you jump, as you look at the open door with wide eyes.

"Sorry," He raises his hand to calm you down, "Didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh." You clear your throat, "It's fine. I just… didn't notice you there. Do you need anything?"

"No." He smiles, "I came to say that I loved today's lunch. It's the most delicious food that I've had all week."

You blush upon hearing his words, "You flatter me, thank you."

"So what are you cooking for tonight?"

"I was thinking about making beef goulash, but I noticed that we still have chickpeas, so," You hum as you think, "It's either of the two."

"You're making Moroccan beef stew?" He raises his brow at you, and you nod.

"That's what I'm planning to. I haven't decided yet." You said, "What do you think?"

"You know which one I'd pick." He grinned as he picked the paprika, "You have enough cilantros?"

"Of course." You giggle as you take the veggie from him, "It's settled then."

Since that day, it becomes a habit of him to visit the kitchen and talk to you for an hour or two. You're shy at first, but once you're comfortable with him, you become a lovely chatterbox. You'd talk to him about foods, kitchen operations, and plans for dinner. Breakfast and lunch menus are already handled by the head chef, since they require not much of a job. But the dinner is entirely your responsibility, since it's the most varied meal of the day.

"What do you think is the most important asset for a cook to have?"

"I don't know. Hands?"

You shake your head, "Try again."

"Hmm, let me think." He closes his eyes, while pretending to ponder on, "Brain?"

"Wrong." You laughed.

"What is it then?"

"Tongue." You replied as you pointed at our mouth, "You won't have any idea how good your food is if you can't taste it."

"Is it really?" He chuckled, "Then what about knife skills? Or time management?"

"They're also important to have, but at the end of the day, taste is all that matters." You tilt your head, "Right?"

"Can't argue with that."

One day, he's caught by Price when he's about to leave after training.

"You've been leaving awfully soon these days," He stops at his track as he feels his captain's gaze on him, "Does it have something to do with the cook?"

He sheepishly grins, as he turns to his mentor, "Maybe."

Price studies his face, before letting a long sigh, "You're dismissed. But—" He interjected before he could leave, "You better tell her to make shepherd's pie."

He chuckles at the request, "Not tonight, Cap. Maybe tomorrow."

When he arrives at the kitchen that day, he sees you already in your apron. You're about to put your hair in the head scarf when you notice him standing at the door, with his mouth slightly open.

"Hi." You greeted him as you smoothed out your hair, "I need to do a little bit of prep, so I start earlier."

"Oh… I see."

"You can stay, though." You shot him a smile, as you fixed your headband, "I could use some company."

"Don't mind me then."

He takes the seat near your counter, watching you as you bring up the large pan.

"Need a hand?"

"No." You said with a grin, "I'm pretty strong, you know."

He snorts in amusement when you show him the muscles in your arm, which is clearly less defined than his, or even any private's.

"I know, but I'm sure you could use some help."

"I'm fine." You told him, "Besides, I don't have any spare aprons."

"What a shame." He feigned a frown, so bad that it made you laugh.

"Well," You spoke as you started to chop the onions, "Entertain me then. Tell me about your training."

There's not much to talk about, since his training was meant to be watched, not described. He doesn't tell much, but he mentioned the little chat that he had with the Captain.

"He wants cottage pie?" You raise your brows with curiosity, "I can make that, but we gotta wait until we get the right meat."

He mutters a small response, as he watches you cut the chickens into four pieces. You show such a focused expression, that he can't help but think if you're gonna make that face when you're making the shepherd's pie.

All of the sudden, the little remark that his Captain made isn't as nice as it sounded before.

"Why'd you stop?" You looked at him when you noticed that he's been quiet for a while.

"Nothing." He replied, "I just remembered that I don't like meat pie."

"That's too bad." You frowned, "Don't worry though, cottage pie isn't really a meat pie."

He stares at you, and thinks about his Captain's request. He wouldn't say that he's being generous, but in this case, he was.

"I know, but I like your stew better."

"You're so sweet." He saw your eyes crinkled as you chuckled, "We'll make that Moroccan stew again, yeah? Or do you want something else?"

He felt his chest swell when you asked him the question. You offered to cook for him, you'd cook what he wants.

Perhaps you had asked that question to someone else—someone who has visited your kitchen longer than him—but he didn't care.

For the first time in his life, he doesn't feel like sharing.

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #gaz x reader #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #tysm for the ask anon <3 #but judging by the words that you used you wished the story to be a little suggestive. and if that's what you want I'm sorry

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pandoa · 1 year

Text

rook hunt is ripped with muscles and here's why

because some of you guys don't give him enough credit and my brain is rotting; let me live

i'll get straight to the point, i've tried out archery to see what it's like in the past—learned the basics and such—and for those who have never held a bow in their life, let me tell you it gets extremely tiring after shooting for more than an hour or so. so imagine how strong you must be to be shooting bows and arrows since you were a child. that is Rook Hunt, who was practically born from the womb with an archery set in his hand /j

bows have different draw weights that affect the speed, force, and distance that is needed to shoot an arrow. typically, children use bows with a 10-pound draw weight, as young adults and adults use bows with 20 pounds or more. to put this into some sort of perspective, i remember my stamina with the 20-pound bow lasted me about half an hour until my arms began to weaken and shake with how out-of-shape i am but anyways 💀

i've heard that the typical draw weight for hunting is about 40 pounds. and assuming with how long Rook has been an archer, i can imagine that he is physically well-fit enough to exceed the 20-pound draw weight and move onto more efficient bows for hunting like the 40-pound.

think about how developed your muscles must be if you began shooting with 10-pound bows since you were just a kid, moving onto 20 pounds as you get older, and eventually using the 40-pound draw weight as you gain more strength and hunting skills. knowing with how much Rook uses his bows and arrows, it's safe to assume that he most likely hones these skills by practicing archery quite often (i can see him going out to practice at least once a day; don't quote me on that though, this is just a thought i have considering that other hobbies also require daily practice to maintain a person's skill).

there are so many muscles involved in a human body's shoulders, back, chest, and arms that you must use when drawing a bow. exercises focusing on the muscles needed for archery are often done to strengthen an archer. this is where Rook's very toned figure comes in lol.

with the numerous muscles needed to carry out his hobby on a constant basis, Rook would need a strong set of biceps and shoulder muscles to keep up with the bow's general weight and stamina for however long he goes out hunting for. bro has built up muscles, man. built up muscles.

in game, though, i will admit his body does look on the more slim and slender side. i can see why some people in the fandom don't see him as a character with buff arms, but i would like to respectfully disagree. Rook Hunt has scrumptious arm and back muscles i'd shamelessly stare at as his magic hands do whatever wonderous things they do with his bow OH AND GUYS HIS LEGS I MEAN-

ahem. anyways.

i know many in the fandom tend to bully this observant hunter—with his questionable haircut and uh huntsman habits of his—however, these targets for harmless memes cannot overshadow the fact that Rook Hunt is ripped. from head to toe, this man is most likely relatively high among the list of twst characters that are incredibly strong (with Jack trumping them all) and is probably covered in toned muscles, which he maintains with his hunting.

this isn't even me simping anymore; it's just simple logic if we all go by what we know about the Pomefiore vice housewarden. i'll defend this man with my life—and that includes writing a useless essay on why Rook is more muscular and buff than we may think lmao

so in conclusion, Rook has beefy arms that the world is not prepared to talk about just yet. the end.

#twisted wonderland #twst #rook hunt #twst rook #rook twst #rook twisted wonderland #disney twst #HELP ME MY FACE IS BLUSHING WHILE WRITING THIS HAFHAUKDHJNADA #DOWN BAD #i just want to defend my lil french he-man <3 #fr wrote a whole ass essay on why rook belongs on the beefy arms club #why am i such a nerd #how many of u will actually read this nonsense anyway?? no idea lmao #pando's braincell

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shina913 · 8 months

Text

On Tilt, Part 6 | KNJ

On Tilt, Part 6

Definition: a poker term for a state of mental or emotional confusion or frustration in which a player adopts a suboptimal strategy, usually resulting in the player becoming overly aggressive.

On Tilt Masterlist

Pairing: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: idol!AU; strangers-to-FWB-to-lovers; toxic relationship; angst; fluff; smut

Warnings: cussing; dirty talk; neck kisses; heavy petting; nipple play; clit play; body worship; oral (mutual); protected sex; switch!Namjoon; switch!reader

Word count: 5.6K+ words

Summary: You’ve said time and time again that you wouldn’t lose yourself to him. You were in control now. You were going to make better choices. For a minute there, you were able to keep up with it. It wasn’t ‘til Namjoon’s extended break that you found yourself falling into old habits. Will you ever learn to quit Kim Namjoon?

A/N: It's been a long time! If you're still following along, thank you for being patient! I hope to write more frequently. I haven't been inspired to finish much of my wips but I hope you'll enjoy this chapter! I've missed these two.

"I don't know... I think the second half of it seems..." Namjoon sighs, trying to think of an adjective. "Lame?"

"I don't think so," Jon, his co-producer, disagrees.

“Are you sure? I feel like we should add more to it. My vocals sound kind of flat.”

Namjoon, despite having 1,001 tasks to complete before his album release, had also agreed to do a feature verse on a track for one of his industry friends. He sits in one corner of the room, his gaze fixed on the large screen displaying multiple layers of squiggly waves that represent the various instrumental and vocal tracks he’s recorded.

Jon has worked with him long enough to know when he’s actually giving notes or just being nitpicky.

“Your vocals are fine,” he says reassuringly. “Your verse is perfect–it really fits the song!”

Namjoon sighs heavily, still feeling some apprehension. His phone buzzes and he glances at it to read a text message. “Ah, good. He’s on his way. Maybe he can give me some input on this. He’s got a great ear for these kind of things.”

“Ouch, bro,” Jon feigns offense as he cleans up the track layers some more.

Namjoon turns apologetic immediately. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that we’ve been at this for a few weeks and I just want to get a different perspective?”

A minute later, the door to his studio opens, and in comes Yoongi.

"Hey, you got here fast!" Namjoon greets Yoongi. Yoongi nods in acknowledgment. "I was already on this floor when you texted, so I thought I'd swing by before my next appointment. What's up?"

Namjoon motions for Jon to play the track for Yoongi. He observes his teammate and frequent co-producer tilt his head to the side and close his eyes. He always does this when he wants to analyze the track by ear.

Once the track ends, Namjoon anticipates his comments.

“Can you try it without the cymbals in the bridge and drop the echo off the doubling track?”

Jon nods, clicks on a few functions, and plays the song according to Yoongi's notes. Hearing the track with the new modifications, Yoongi and Namjoon make eye contact. They both nod their heads enthusiastically to the beat. No other words are exchanged, but the smiles on their faces and the subsequent high-five provide enough reassurance.

******

“Thanks for the input, hyung. I appreciate it.” Namjoon walks Yoongi out of his studio.

“It’s nothing! We’re still a team even though we’re all off doing our own stuff at the moment.”

Namjoon silently agrees, then raises a hand to rub his eyes while trying to suppress a yawn. They pause for a moment, standing in front of each other in the quiet hallway.

“Tired?”

"I've accepted my fate of being tired forever," Namjoon laughs wryly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know why I assumed that completing my album would bring me some relief and relaxation.”

"Ah, it'll pass." To a stranger, his deadpan tone might sound insincere, but Namjoon knows that he means it in a consoling manner. "Are you excited about your launch party?”

“Yeah, I am. And I’m taking YN with me!” There was a sense of pride and comfort in the way he said it.

Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot upward. “Are you?”

“You think it’s a bad idea?”

Yoongi shakes his head and smiles. “Not in the least bit. Have you told PD-nim?”

Namjoon nods. ��He was cool with it. She’ll be there as my guest but we agreed that her presence there isn’t an ‘announcement’ or anything like that. Still, I’m confident that we’ll be safe since she and I will be interacting out in the open instead of sneaking around.”

It was simple logic. Photos weren’t worth much to tabloids if they were professionally taken with the subject’s consent.

Yoongi laughs at the rationale but he can’t deny that his friend makes a good point. “I’m glad you’ve got something worked out. And she’s okay with all that?”

Namjoon’s head tilts slightly and his shoulders shrug. “Apprehensive at first but I let her know that the front office was supportive so that helped convince her and made her feel safe about going.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows rose and his lips twitch upon hearing his last comment but he caught himself and managed to force a smile. “Good. That’s…good. I’m really glad to hear that.” It wasn’t fair to project his personal grievances with management toward his friend.

Realizing his misstep, his excitement is replaced with a pang of guilt. “Shit, I’m sorry, hyung,” he grimaces. “I didn’t mean to come off insensitive, especially after what happened to–”

Yoongi cuts him off. “Nah, don’t feel guilty about it. I’m happy that you’re happy. I’m glad that you have someone who supports you and that you’ve found ways to compromise.” His sober expression makes Namjoon’s face falter.

It hasn’t been long since Yoongi and his partner split up. It was a few weeks before the hiatus announcement but by then, they’d had enough and decided to move onto separate ways.

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t figure out a middle ground between the label and–”

Yoongi waves his hand in mid-air to stop Namjoon from bringing up something that is still fresh in his mind. There was a time and place to be vulnerable but this moment wasn’t it. “S’okay. We tried…for a long time…” He sighs and finishes with a shrug, effectively dropping the subject.

“Anyway, speaking of PD-nim, what did you think of last week’s contract meeting?” Yoongi asks to shift the focus away from him. “Have you thought about what you wanted to do for the next year?”

Namjoon exhales and confidently answers, “Yep. I’m taking the option for the longer hiatus.”

A few weeks ago, the label held a meeting with all team members, offering different paths for their careers. They could either continue pursuing solo activities or 'take a break' by having a more flexible schedule and the option to choose the projects they want to participate in.

“Wow. Really? Even with all of the offers to collaborate?” Yoongi bulges his eyes out at his friend knowingly.

Two years ago, Namjoon would have been tripping over his feet if he ever got a call from his idols for a dream collaboration. Now that the group has hit record-breaking fame in the world stage, each member’s time was in high demand.

“I did that one song last summer with my idol and crossed that off my bucket list. I don’t need to be greedy by entertaining every request,” he laughs. “It’s also an opportunity for me to take a break and find a new sound.”

Although Namjoon's new album has not been released yet, Yoongi does not argue because he understands that as an artist, one needs to constantly evolve. As soon as you finish one project, you should already be in the midst of planning the next one.

“That’s fair,” Yoongi concedes. “Was this decision influenced by a certain someone?”

“Yes and no,” Namjoon admits. “She’s a factor but it's my own decision. It’s what’s best for me…for us. I owe it to her.”

“Is she collecting a debt?”

Namjoon laughs. “No, no. She didn’t say that. In fact, I haven’t told her that we had that meeting. All I know is that I made a commitment to her and I plan on sticking to it. Walk the walk, you know?”

“I guess it’s good that she didn’t talk you into it. The last thing you want is to make hasty, emotional decisions then regret them later.”

“Hyung, I swear I’m not being hasty or emotional about this.”

“Alright,” Yoongi relents. “Just saying, I’d hate for you to feel regret or resentment if things don’t pan out.”

The truth was, Namjoon had that thought buried in the far corner of his mind, but he wouldn't let it deter him. He believed that fate brought the two of you back together and he was determined to do everything he could to make the best out of this second chance. Things will work out this time.

They have to.

You're in a rush to send out two more emails before the holiday weekend. These emails are crucial for sealing the deals for two of your clients. One has received interest from a film production company that wants to buy the rights to their novel and turn it into a movie. The other client is preparing for wider distribution after self-publishing the first edition of their book.

Your phone starts to buzz after you send off one email.

“Hey, I just got here. Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?” Namjoon walks through your front door then pockets his keys, which include a copy of your house keys. It was a huge step for you and your relationship.

He was bringing food from the restaurant that you two were supposed to have dinner at. But after a client call ran long and a few other last-minute tasks piled up, you asked if you could reschedule. Instead, he was insistent and completely fine with the idea of spending the night in.

“I’m sure. I drove so I have to bring my car home anyway.”

“But you could leave it at the garage and I can have my manager pick it up tomorrow.”

You laugh at his offer. He just really wanted you home. “Why don’t you let the man enjoy a decent weekend off, for once?”

“Alright,” he relents. “I’ll be here waiting. I’ve got wine chilling in the fridge and pasta and chicken, just like you asked.”

You acknowledge all the effort he’s putting in. He’s been sleep-deprived the entire week but he was still determined to spend time with you. Still, you take the opportunity to tease him. “You know that kind of behavior will get you laid.”

“Look, I don’t really care if anything happens tonight,” he says simply. “I only wanted to bring dinner and be with you.”

“Mm-hm,” you hum in amusement. “What kind of pasta did you get?” You ask him as a test.

He answers with your favorite. It’s been so long and yet he still knew. “That’s it! I’m getting on my knees as soon as I walk through the door!”

A low laugh escapes him. “Not if I get you on your back first.”

His response makes you want to log off this second and rush home to him.

Unfortunately, even if you leave the office, you still need to continue working from home. However, you would rather put 100% of your focus on him. So, you decide to stay until you finish everything.

Two hours later, you walk through the door. The room is dark and quiet, with the only light coming from the television. Namjoon is snoring in the living room.

He stirs when you brush his hair back to kiss his forehead from behind the couch.

"Hi," he says, his lips curving into a languid smile as he blinks his eyes open.

"Sorry, I'm late."

"It's cool." He stretches his arms and sits up. "Have you eaten?"

"No. Have you?" You ask him.

He shakes his head as well. "I'll heat up the food in the oven—"

"No, let’s go to bed so you can go back to sleep," you suggest. It's been a long day and fatigue is setting in. However, Namjoon gets up from the couch, shakes his head adamantly, and laughs. "You know that I know that there's no way you'll have a good night's sleep while hungry."

Just before you protest, your stomach growls, betraying you. He knows you well enough. With a snort, he takes your hand and guides you to the kitchen.

*******

After dinner and a quick shower for you, you get a second wind and decide to watch some late-night TV. It was a weekend, and Namjoon didn't have to be at the office until late the next evening.

He gazes at the week-old gardenia arrangement that he brought over when you first moved in and wonders aloud, "I'll never understand why you keep holding onto these until they're completely dead. Just throw them away and I'll get you fresh flowers!"

"I like them when they’re in this in-between stage of brown and white. They have a stronger scent and I love it," you explain.

"Yeah, but the aesthetic is—" He clicks his teeth in distaste.

"Forget about the aesthetic! I think it smells romantic," you say confidently.

At first, he furrows his brows at your strange remark. But instead of arguing, he’s endeared. He shakes his head and chuckles, returning his attention to the TV.

You and Namjoon are on the couch, watching old reruns of a show that you've seen many times before. Despite the outdated punchlines, you still find them funny years later. You're sitting sideways while your legs, covered by a throw blanket, rest comfortably on his lap. Instead of watching the show with him, your gaze is fixed on his profile. At the sound of a joke you both had heard before, he still lets out a guffaw, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement as if hearing it for the very first time. His laughter makes your heart swell so much that it feels as if you could float away.

At that moment, as his laughs subside and the scent of wilted gardenias fills the room, you utter, "I love you." You can feel your heart pounding in your chest.

He slowly turns his head to face you, his eyes searching yours. After a few beats that feel like an eternity, he says, "Say that again."

Suddenly feeling shy, you giggle like a schoolgirl and attempt to hide under your blanket, but he pulls it off, revealing your flushed cheeks.

"Please say it again," he says, grinning and patiently waiting.

You take a deep breath, savoring the moment. You purse your lips for a few seconds, then smile back at him. "I love you," you say softly, but with conviction.

He throws his head back dramatically, clutching his chest as if he's been shot, before collapsing onto the bed with a theatrical flourish.

Giggling at his antics, you playfully shove his side and tell him, "Stop being so dramatic!"

"I'm not being dramatic! I'm in love," he declares with a sigh.

You’re mildly irritated by his response. “You know, if you’re just going to joke about this—”

Just as you turn serious, he does the same. “I would never joke. Not when it comes to you.”

This was a huge step for both of you and it was the first time you’d actually said the words to each other. Years ago, he used to say that labels and verbal declarations of feelings were ‘superficial’. Anybody can say ‘I love you’ but never really grasp the full weight of it. He was all about ‘showing’ not ‘telling.’

The old you thought that made a lot of sense. It sounded logical. And because you were actually in love with him then, you believed it.

You swallow the lump in your throat. "I want you to know that this is still scary for me. This isn’t like when we were sleeping around at the dorms or hotels. The stakes are higher now."

He turns his body toward you. He cradles your legs with one arm and circles the other around your waist to pull you closer.

“I really fucked things up by not telling you how I felt and ignoring your needs. I was selfish and a coward.”

You shake your head gently at how he was placing all the blame on himself. “We were young and had a lot of growing up to do. Both of us needed that time apart.”

He looks at you with a mix of regret and determination in his eyes. "I recognize that now," he says softly. "And I want to do better and be better for you. Things will be different this time."

His words fill you with hope, and you feel your heart fill with warmth as you realize that he is committed to making things work between you.

The thought of it also turns you on wildly. You lean in and press your lips to his. “Take me to bed,” you whisper.

He pulls back slightly and stares into your eyes. “I’m not saying these things just to get it in,” he chuckles. “Like I said, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want—”

“I know,” you interrupt gently before your lips curve into a smile. “Let me worry about what I want. And what I want, is for us to go to bed.”

Nodding, he switches the TV off and you both walk upstairs into your bedroom.

******

You walk into the room, with him following closely behind. As you turn to face him, he stops in his tracks, cautiously anticipating your next move.

You reach up and cup his face in your hands. He closes his eyes, reveling in your touch. Tilting your chin up, he meets halfway, and seals his mouth to yours. The kiss starts soft and sweet, but quickly builds up to a fever pitch.

Desire surges through you, and he matches your fervor. His fingers grip the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He groans against your lips, making those low, sexy sounds that you turn you on. Your hands explore his chest, feeling every inch of him. Just as you're about to lose control, he breaks the kiss.

He spins you around, your back pressed against him, caging you while his hand roams all around your front. You threw your head back in a low moan as he nipped at your neck, grinding his hard cock between your ass cheeks.

He wraps his arms around you and nuzzles your neck. His heavy breaths send shivers down your spine.

“How did I get so lucky?” he whispers as his teeth graze your earlobe.

"I wouldn't call it luck," you murmur breathlessly, shifting your head to give him better access to your throat. "...More like a well-deserved outcome," you finish. He runs his nose down the slope of your neck, and you feel him smile against it.

"I'm really trying to control myself," he sighs. "But I'd be lying if I said I haven't spent a lot of time fantasizing about how this evening would go."

You release a pained groan, squirming as he lazily sucks on your neck. "Tell me," you say.

He pauses his ministrations, giving you a chance to break away and turn to face him.

“Tell me about your fantasies,” you say to him.

Namjoon teasingly swipes his tongue between his lips and leans forward. “I can tell you and show you.”

In anticipation, your chest rises as you inhale sharply and bite your lower lip. It was all the consent he needed.

"First of all, you're wearing too many clothes," he smirks.

You reach for the hem of your sleep shirt, intending to pull it off, but he stops you. He gently wags his finger and tuts. "In my fantasy, I do all the work."

You release the material and relinquish control to him. Wrapping his arms around you, he repeats your earlier action and pulls your shirt up. You lift your arms above your head, allowing him to easily slip it off you. As he leans in, you anticipate a kiss, but he surprises you by tossing you over his shoulder.

He walks across the room, and his hand reaches down to tug on your panties, pulling them below the curve of your ass. You yelp as he spanks you hard enough to sting.

He sits you down on the mattress and crouches in front of you. As he pulls your panties past your bare feet, he asks, “Are you good, baby?”

“Yeah.” You smile and touch his cheek. The moment of tenderness makes your heartbeat stutter as if he wasn’t just about to ravish you seconds later.

He nods and flashes a dimple before he picks up where he left off.

He plants a soft kiss on your inner thigh. “Are you ready for me?”

You arch an eyebrow at him in response. “The better question is, are you ready for me?”

You let out another squeal when Namjoon jerks your hips to the very edge of the bed with your legs on either side of him, exposing your center to his gaze.

“You’re going to be sorry you said that.”

You pushed at his shoulder, challenging him. “Teach me a lesson, then.”

He presses your thighs wide with gentle hands, his thumb stroking over your clit, pleasure pulsing through you.

He lowers his voice to a dangerously low tone. “You know, I’m trying to set the pace here but you’re no help.” He gets some revenge when he pulls his shirt over his head.

“You know I can take it,” you say as evenly as possible while trying not to drool over the sight of his bare chest.

“I know you can,” he murmurs. “But I want this to last a while.” Your stomach tightens when he lowers his head. As soon as his tongue licks through your folds, you grasp desperately at the sheets beneath you and fall back onto the mattress. He parts you with his fingers, teasing your sensitive flesh while you keen and writhe in pleasure.

“I’ve imagined this so many different ways,” he purred, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your hips buck but he holds you firmly down.

“On my bed.” He sucks. “In my studio.” And licks.

“In the back room of the restaurant that I took you to on our first date after we had the no-sex conversation.”

“God. Namjoon,” You moan pathetically, dizzy at the sight of him savoring you.

“I imagine pinning you down,” he went on roughly, “Giving it to you all night…your nipples swollen from me sucking on them. The room filled with all those sexy sounds you do…when I make you cum over and over…” He gives your clit one long suction.

You whimper, biting your lip as he flutters his tongue. He has one of your legs hooked over his bare shoulder. The heat from his skin burns the flesh behind your knee.

“Yes, I want all that,” Your hands roam over your breasts, pinching at your aching nipples for relief.

He grins mischievously. “I know.” He continues to suck on your bundle of nerves, teasing you relentlessly as your climax builds up further. With his lips still wrapped around your clit, he slides two fingers into your soaked opening, curling them upward to massage your inner walls.

You gasp sharply at the assault when he pumps into you. Hips moving of their own volition, grinding into his greedy mouth.

You climax with a breathless cry, your legs shaking with the rush of release after months of pent-up tension between you.

You were still coming down from your high when his body loomed over you. He shoves his bottoms down just enough to free his cock.

You watch as he carefully slips a condom down his length. Wanting to feel him in your hands, you attempt to reach for it, but he catches you by your wrist. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the inside before pinning your hands above your head.

His eyes studies your face, his lips still glistening from your orgasm, his chest heaving. You blink up at him in wonder and ask yourself, 'how did you get so lucky'?

“I love you,” he pants.

“I love you,” you reply before he slides his length between your folds. He pushes in, parting the slick opening.

He buries his face in your throat with a groan, then surges inside you. He gasps your name, slowly grinding his hips against you, trying to get deeper.

His hips work in a steady rhythm. The feel of him inside you, stretching you, drives you crazy. You shift and wrap your legs around him for leverage and meet his thrusts.

His lips brushed against your temple. “Fuck, you feel so good. I don’t think I can last much longer…but I…I want to—“

He sounded apologetic, but he didn’t need to. Your throat tightens. “I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t stop!”

He pulls out, lifts your ass, then thrusts deeply. You moan helplessly, your cunt squeezing him greedily. “Fuck yes…” you hiss. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

He strokes into you and you writhe under him, your thighs grasping his hips. Digging his knees in, he gives you what you begged for and fucks relentlessly into you. His cock plunges deeply, over and over, breathing naughty fantasies into your ear and pushing you closer to another climax.

Your core tenses and your clit throbs with every slam of his hips against yours. He pounds into you, every muscle in his body flexing.

“I’m gonna cum so hard for you,” he strains, sweat sliding down his temple.

The promise of him filling you sets you off, and before you know it, you come undone for him again, your pussy spasming furiously. The obscene sounds of hot, sweaty fucking fills your bedroom while he chases his own climax.

He slows down his movements deliberately, and with one final stroke, you feel him spurting inside of you. Rough sounds of satisfaction rumble from his chest and resonate against your sweat-slicked skin.

He lies there for a moment, his heartbeat gradually slowing to a steady rhythm. When he lifts his head, his fingers run through your hair.

Namjoon cradles your face in his hands and kisses you. “Thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for? You did all the work,” you laugh.

His slow smile showed pure satisfaction. “I’m only grateful for the privilege.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Stop,” you giggle. “You’re just saying that because you’re horny.”

“Nah, I’m love-drunk,” he grins lazily before planting another kiss on your lips. You’re so endeared…as if you couldn’t love him anymore.

He flops on the bed beside you, and you rest a hand on his chest, patting it softly. "By the way, top-tier fantasy," you remark.

Turning to face you, his smile widens and he mischievously squints at you. “Oh, you thought that was it?” He laughs. “We haven’t even gotten through the half of it!”

The thought of being the recipient of Namjoon’s insatiable desire for you sends a flutter of excitement through your body.

******

You are jolted awake by a dream you had. In it, you were falling into a bottomless pit.

Your heart races as you quickly turn your head to the other side of the bed, where Namjoon is sleeping soundly.

You’d been at each other for at least two hours before both of you passed out from exhaustion and fell asleep.

You carefully slide out of bed, trying not to wake him, and make your way to the bathroom.

When you reenter the bedroom, the scene before you takes your breath away. Namjoon is sprawled across your bed, with one arm tossed over his head and the other draped across his chest. When you were shopping for a mattress, it seemed excessive to get one so huge. However, now that you see his feet resting comfortably on the bed instead of dangling off it, it doesn't seem like such a bad investment after all.

God, he was breathtaking. When he was onstage, he exuded an unstoppable force, trained to be the object of many people’s fantasies. And yet, you were the only one who could bring him to his knees.

He shifts as you climb onto the bed. He blinks up at you.

“Hey, come here.” He sounds drowsy, but you find it incredibly sexy.

“I love you,” you say as you lower yourself into his outstretched arms. His warm skin is perfect for snuggling. Seeing him like this makes you want to be close to him, but in a different way.

He kisses you deeply, but you pull away just in time to regain control. “I'm not done with you,” he warns. Despite already going three rounds (that you can recall), he shamelessly craves more. Admittedly, so do you.

You gently place your pointer finger on his lips and shake your head. "It's my turn."

He raises an eyebrow in curiosity.

“We spent all night living out your fantasies but didn’t even get to mine. Not fair–that’s not how this relationship is supposed to work,” you pout.

“I’m sorry,” he says sweetly, brushing your cheek with his finger. “What do you want, my love?”

You wrap your legs around his thigh and rub against it, letting him feel that you are already wet for him. The friction makes you moan, as does the promise of being naughty.

You kiss him, press your body against him. “Two things.”

His finger grazes your forehead. “Anything.”

“One, I want to taste you,” you whisper then glance downward at his crotch.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, already into it. “And the second thing?”

This is when you try to hold back your excitement. “You have to be very, very still.”

He’s suddenly puzzled. “Huh?”

“I want you to keep your hands to yourself while I work on you,” you state.

He groans in frustration. “You know that’s impossible–”

“Just trust me!”

Eventually, he acquiesces. “Alright. How do you want me?”

You purse your lips and motion for him to sit up against the headboard, and he obliges. You lift his arms and direct him to hold onto the gaps in the frame.

Next, you grab hold of his boxers' waistband and he lifts his hips to assist you. As you pull them past his feet, you ask, "Are you good, baby?"

“Yes,” he answers with a gentle smirk.

You spread his thighs apart, but before you position yourself between them, you lean forward to give him a kiss. He instinctively embraces you, with one hand pushing into your hair and the other resting on the small of your back, urging you to come closer.

Clearing your throat, you flick your eyes to his hands, giving him a warning look. He smiles, suddenly remembering one of your stipulations, and lets his hands fall to his sides.

You press a light kiss to his lips before moving your mouth across his cheek, down to his throat. Your tongue darts out to lick his golden skin before latching on, causing him to let out a pained growl. You graze him with your teeth, leaving a mark. Rough sounds of pleasure vibrate against your lips.

Pulling back, you admire the bright red bruise you left and giggle triumphantly at your handiwork. “Mine.”

"Yours," he vows with hooded eyes.

"Good answer." Pleased, you continue to move lower, finding and teasing his nipples. You lick over them, around them, then blow. Namjoon hisses and growls at the shot of cool air against his sensitized skin. He resists the temptation to roll you onto your back and pin you to the mattress, but instead, he grips the headboard tighter, his knuckles turning white.

As you make your way down his torso, you feel his entire body tighten with anticipation. When your tongue rims his belly button, his hips jerk up.

If he only knew just how excited you were to see him in this state. You want to reward him for having this much obedience and self-control.

With your hands on his inner thighs, you urge him to spread open wider, giving you room to settle comfortably. Dipping your head, your lips part, and you give his cock a precursory lick.

“Fuuucking…hell…” he growls.

It sends another wave of arousal through you. Wrapping your lips around him, you give him back what he gave you last night. Using only your mouth, you worship him, sucking gently and caressing him with your tongue.

He mutters a mix of curses and praises, feeling both lost and dizzy with pleasure.

You pause for a moment and tease him. “You like that?”

He sits up on his elbows, and looks at you wryly. “No, I hate every second it!”

You laugh then wrap your lips around his tip and hum.

“Aaaahh…fuck me. What the fuck,” he groans at the vibration. You see his eyes roll to the back of his head. “Deeper, please,” he begs.

Since he asked so nicely, you oblige and take him in completely until the tip reaches the back of your throat.

He cries out, his back arching as if he wants to pull away, but you hold onto him with your lips and hands, cupping and massaging, encouraging him to reach the peak of pleasure.

“Fuck…fuck…” he chokes out, fighting every urge to wrap his hand around your nape to control the pace. He knows you’re enjoying this too much and the thought of it sends him into a frenzy. His thighs ached with strain, muscles hardening by the force it took to restrain himself.

You feel his balls tighten and you know he’s close. Hollowing your cheeks, you bob your head at an even pace, swirling your tongue around his length simultaneously.

“Ahh, baby, I’m gonna cum…fuck…”

In the same moment that you pull off, he grunts and spurts right at your chest. You sit up and lean back on your heels, pumping him with your fist to prolong and intensify the sensation. You can feel the contractions against your fingertips, pulsing from his flesh as he lets out a drawn-out groan.

When his body calms down, you release him and move to lay by his side.

After a few beats, he croaks out, "Am I allowed to touch you now?"

With a playful giggle, you give him permission. Finally, his heavy arm shifts, blindly searching to pull you closer. You snuggle into his embrace, feeling his heartbeat gradually steadying against yours as he plants a kiss on the top of your head. Both of you collapse in a tired, satisfied heap, but you loved it.

And you loved him.

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Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @internetjunkdrawer @roaminginthenights @serendididy @majamarantha @mrskiminami @joonschocochip @yoongukie-ff @midnightagust

#namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon x y/n #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fanfiction #bts smut #bts namjoon #bts fanfiction

102 notes · View notes

bestworstcase · 23 days

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Hi, just joined Tumblr earlier today as part of an unrelated thing, thought I'd check your page out on a friend's rec, and... wow. Just, wow. This is practically the nine-dimensional chess of media literacy. I would have so many question, but everything you discuss is promptly explained in such great detail that I can't even say that. One question remains, though: *how?* Where do you get the absurd amount information and brainpower required to connect the show's many, many dots at this high of a level? It's something I struggle with myself (though that may be due to there being over a year between watching V1-V8 and seriously starting to reflect on the show beyond "well, that was a fun sequence of events"—thank you, newish fanfic writing brain—but that's besides the point), and I was wondering if you had any tips for expanding one's thinking in this direction, as the show still means a *lot* to me—there's a reason, however unexplainable, that I stuck with it so long before the reflections started—and I'd love it if the deepest parts of my brain could reflect it as such.

...Unless that's too much to ask, in which case, whoops! Either way, thank you.

really fundamentally the most effective thing you can do to practice is make a deliberate effort to cultivate a sense of curiosity toward the text. and what i mean by that is, get in the habit of asking yourself questions as if you’re in a high school english lit class: what happened in this scene? why did this character say or do that? does this conversation remind you of anything that happened in an earlier scene, and if so, what’s similar? what’s different? what did you learn about the characters from this scene? what did you learn about the world they live in? why do you think this scene was important enough to be in the story? what changed in this scene (something will always have changed)?

it may feel a bit patronizing at first BUT over time if you’re consistent about it, doing this will train you to approach reading or watching as an active participant. analytical interpretation is a skill and like any skill it takes sustained effort and practice.

after that it’s sort of just pattern recognition. this is true of all stories but it’s especially true of theme-driven stories like rwby because they tend to be very deliberate about repeating and refracting their ideas and often develop rich symbolic vocabularies. so you identify a pattern and then examine the text until you can develop a compelling argument for what it means.

one thing to keep in mind if you’re generally familiar with fandom is that fandom encourages a lot of practices that are cool and fun in fannish contexts but will poison analysis because they are (by nature of being transformative) untethered from the text. headcanon, for example, is things held to be true irrespective of the text—one could have as a headcanon that ruby is allergic to bee stings or that qrow is her father or whatever and it doesn’t matter that there’s no textual evidence or that the text says otherwise because the text is not relevant—but analytically, you must be able to back every part of your argument with textual evidence. so it is useful to practice compartmentalizing to keep headcanon strictly separated from the text in your mind.

(that’s also a practice i recommend in general because being able to say “i like this idea and i have it in mind when i create fanworks, but it isn’t canonical” is healthy)

a good habit to get into is arguing against yourself and holding yourself to a high standard of proof. the reason my argumentation tends to be so thorough is that i try to be as skeptical of my own theories as i am of other people’s. if i have an idea that seems right but doesn’t withstand textual scrutiny, i discard it. (or i might toss it into the headcanon/au idea pile, if i’m very fond of it.) i will often develop more than one argument about a given subject and then lay them all against the text before i commit to one. being skeptical will push you to pay closer attention.

cultivate curiosity about your own emotional reactions, too. what did this scene make you feel? why? how do you feel about this or that character? what draws you to your favorite characters? what distances you from the characters you don’t like? what ideas come to mind when you think about the story and what it means to you? if you have a strong reaction to something—good or bad—try to trace that feeling to its root. what sparked it and why?

once you start digging into that you’ll find that your intuitive reactions to the story are non-arbitrary—you’re subconsciously picking up on certain patterns or themes that resonate with you. so paying attention to what the story makes you feel and asking how and why it incites those feelings will guide you to conscious discovery of things you’ve already noticed without noticing.

and another good point of entry is to look for recurring symbols / imagery—for example, silver-eyes get associated with death and reincarnation through a combination of harvest/reaper imagery (scythe, sickle, ‘the grimm reaper’) and butterflies (ruby’s first glare resembles wings, butterflies everywhere when she and maria discuss her eyes, butterflies symbolizing ascension in the ever after). adding this pattern together with the white light in the liminal void between realms (the threshold of life and death!), the implication that silver-eyes came from ozma (who dies and reincarnates cyclically), the stated purpose of the glare (to preserve and protect life), ruby hearing pyrrha’s final words in her dreams (which she didn’t hear in reality), and the glare having destroyed the hand cinder used to kill pyrrha, is how i got to “silver-eyes are psychopomps,” because both the symbolism and the narrative facts about the power line up in that direction.

the one thing to be careful with in relation to symbolism is not to treat it like a secret code! symbolic meaning isn’t universal so you should always consider symbolism in context with the narrative. the first question should always be “what idea does this image appear in connection to, when it appears?” i.e. the burning rose in rwby symbolizes mourning. think of symbols as more like trail markers that the narrative has placed to help you understand the story by connecting dots. we see the burning rose on summer’s grave and then we see it on ruby; she carries her mother’s absence with her. she gives the brooch away in the ever after right after the blacksmith shows her a glimpse of summer, and then in the storm her reflection is summer but ruby doesn’t look, doesn’t see: she’s avoiding her grief, trying to pretend it isn’t there. and then the brooch returns to her once she faces what the blacksmith wanted to show her about her mom: now it’s a symbol for acceptance of loss.

and with a story like rwby that uses allusion to develop its thematic narrative it’s really helpful to read the texts it alludes to! the core narrative allusions are the marvelous land of oz, maiden in tower fairytales (petrosinella, persinette, rapunzel), cinderella, and the little prince, plus alice’s adventures in wonderland & through the looking glass for the ever after. and then every major character has a specific character allusion. both kinds of allusion are symbolic/thematic (you can’t use allusions to predict specific plot events but they help tie together emotional arcs and character relationships cohesively, and the narrative allusions are pretty good weather vanes for very broad-strokes things like ozma’s symbolic blindness being ‘healed’ in the end).

rewatching the show a couple of times will also help, especially if you take notes. i’m not sure how many times i’ve rewatched v1-8 but it’s a lot and i’ve watched v9 in full twice, plus rewatching a lot of specific episodes or scenes for reference. rewatching will help you spot patterns that you missed before and increase your familiarity with the text in general, both of which help tremendously.

#the adhd helps. also

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secretthegriffin · 11 months

Text

A MOST RESTFUL NIGHT

summary: crosshair often fights his exhaustion, but tonight proved to be a little bit more difficult...

pairing: crosshair / fem! jedi ( can be seen as reader as they're unnamed)

A/N : so this is basically an excerpt from a story I'll never finish. I don't usually post what I write but I felt this is special. I also would like to point out I am in no way shape or form a professional writer so I'm sorry if there's mistakes but anyways this is mostly in cross' pov. and its super fluff. with softie and slightly touched starved cross. so no warnings. :)

He sat alone in the darkness of the shuttle. All of his crewmates have been asleep for some time now so the ship was especially quiet. He held his fire-puncher with his supplies, ready to relax and clean the weapon. Most of the time his rifle hardly needed it. Alas he cleaned the damn thing so much though it turned habitual. Often avoiding sleep entirely he would indulge himself with said habit until complete exhaustion. It is so cleaning his rifle, he found himself entirely lost in the activity. He didn't even notice the hesitant figure approaching him from the shadows of the ship.

"How can you see? Its so dang dark" she sighed.

Almost startled, he looked up from the gun speechless. There the jedi stood as breathtaking as ever, standing before him.

"I don't need the light, I can see in the dark". He replied sarcastically.

Avoiding the jedi's sleepy eyes, he took her in. she wore her regular jedi robes, except she had a tightly fitted tank and shorts on as if she threw the robes over her sleep wear.

"figures" she yawned stretching her hands above her to the ceiling. cross was thankful it was dark, she wouldn't see his hawk like eyes devour every inch of her as she stretched. From her pretty face and soft curves down to her beautiful breasts and long smooth legs. Cross would be lying to himself if he said she wasn't attractive. Maker, she was down right the most stunning jedi cross had ever laid his eyes on. He keenly watched as she carefully made her way through the dark to the opposite side of the sofa he sat on. yawning once more she gestured to the rifle.

"Well, go on" she proclaimed.

"What?" He was taken aback a bit to be honest.

"Don't let me stop you from cleaning the damn thing". Gesturing once more to the rifle, but with a smile.

That damn smile. It made cross's heart flutter a bit. She could never know what she does to him. She made him felt things one never thought could exist. He hated it. Hated she made him felt this way. And yet. He hated how much he loved it. oh so much. With heat rising to his face, he smirked. going back to his business. Basking in the warm feel of her watchful eyes as he silently cleaned the weapon. He didn't quite understand why she watched. But he also didn't really care. He loved the idea of being the very object of her interest in this moment.

"Its soothing". She whispered. as if reading his mind.

"Excuse me?" He whispered back.

"The noise. Watching you...its.. Meditating" she hummed, closing her eyes.

"hmm". He didn't really know what to say, she must be especially tired.

"Can I get a better view?" Her bold question surprised cross a bit, making him stop suddenly to directly look at her.

"What do you mean?"

She huffed. her cheeks going pink as she smiled at him again, turning his insides to mush.

"Like this". She lifted his arm off his lap and gently adjusted herself to lay across his lap so her head rested on his thigh, looking at the rifle and his hands.

"Now I can watch closely and comfortably." she said quietly lifting her hands to snuggle between her head and his thigh.

"If I didn't know any better, sweetheart, I'd think you're looking for a different kind of entertainment tonight". He teased with a chuckle. Though he was not so subtly trying to hide the fact he was entirely flustered by the closeness. He couldn't take his eyes off her beautiful face. The warmth of her body on his thighs sent shivering chills through his body. Maker what he wouldn't give to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer to him, into his lap.

she giggled at his response but playfully smacked his leg.

"shut up. now c'mon, I'm trying to meditate." she insisted.

Looking down onto the gorgeous jedi, Cross gladly went back to his rifle, but not without a stupid smug smile on his face.

She watched intently as his skillful fingers cleaned the rifle. His hands were so carefully delicate as he took the weapon apart. She was surprised the mean marksman could care enough about something to treat it so. Watching as if he was an artist, it relaxed her. Sighing as she slowly fell asleep to the soft clanking of the metal.

As soon as Cross noticed she was soundlessly asleep, he thanked the stars for such a moment. His gun long forgotten, Cross silently studied her features and the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She looked so gorgeously peaceful and so serene. and so perfect against his lap.

"Mesh'la". He breathed. Gently brushing loose strands of hair from her face. His hands trembled as he ever so lightly with the tips of his fingers traced her face. they ached to reach out and hold her, but he could never let himself do that. After some time she began softly snoring. So with a tired and heavy sigh Cross tucked his arms under her, lifting her to his chest bridal style. He slowly and carefully made his way to her bunk. Softly laying her against the cot. But as he turned to go to his own cot, her hand reached out to his wrist stopping him.

"Do you wanna lay with me?" she whispered. She sounded so tired, and so beautiful. Cross sighed another heavy sigh, he too was tired. hesitating, he slid next to her, not touching her, but sitting awkwardly just next to her. He eyed her as she lazily curled herself next to his side, falling back to sleep. for a moment he thought about going to his own bed. until she reached out in her sleep, wrapping her arm across his chest to snuggle into his side. cross's heart completely stumped. He completely gave into his feeling he was never going to beat, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close to him as possible. He curled into her, almost melting. Soaking in the warmth of everything her. He felt so undeniably comfortable, he wished the stars this wasn't a cruel dream. As he held her tighter to his chest he succumbed to the drowsiness he'd been avoiding for so long. Loosing another internal battle. Falling oh so deeply into a blissful slumber.

-----the end---- <3

#tbb x reader #crosshair x reader #tbb headcanons #tbb crosshair #star wars meta #star wars #soft crosshair #oneshot #the clone wars #clone wars fic #the bad batch #star wars fluff #star wars crosshair #fanfic #touched starved #the bad batch x reader #clone trooper crosshair

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