#but honestly i did it in a spur of a moment before i could change my mind

[barcaatthemoon]

an american breakfast || lucy bronze x reader ||

lucy makes you a special breakfast to make up for a fight.

you woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon. lucy was absolutely nowhere to be found in the bedroom. you took your time getting up and going out into the kitchen. you were genuinely surprised to see lucy cooking for you, especially after your fight the night before. your homesickness had been looming like a storm cloud over your relationship. a harmless comment from one of the girls at practice had spurred on an argument that you had honestly expected to cross over into the morning.

"good morning gorgeous," lucy said with a quick peck to your cheek. she seemed to be in a good mood, which also surprised you. if lucy went to bed angry, she sure as hell woke up the exact same way. last night she had screamed at you and stormed out of the apartment before you fell asleep. whenever she had returned, you were fast asleep in bed, which couldn't have helped her mood.

"morning luce," you replied. lucy set a plate down in front of you, which was when you noticed that these weren't just normal pancakes. lucy had to have gone out and bought chocolate chips just to make you one of your favorite childhood breakfast foods. "what's all this?"

"i may have been a bit of an asshole last night, and i apologize. i know how hard it is to be away from home. you can't just book a quick flight home, so i decided to make something from home for you," lucy explained. she leaned over the counter as she waited for you to take your first bite. you poured a little syrup over the whole plate, including your bacon, before you took a bite. lucy was biting her lip as she watched you.

"relax, it's good. it's really good, thank you lucy," you told her. lucy let out a sigh of relief. she made herself a little plate, which was what really surprised you. "i thought you'd never eat a breakfast like this."

"hey, it may seem like a dessert rather than a healthy breakfast, but i've earned it. besides, i should probably know what all the fuss is about," lucy reasoned. you chuckled to yourself as you watched her eagerly dig in. lucy made a little groan as she took a bite, obviously not having thought about how delicious it could have been.

"better than beans and toast?" you asked. lucy sent you a glare, but reluctantly nodded her head. you smirked to yourself as you shoved another bite into your mouth. lucy managed to down her breakfast at twice your speed. you took your time, savoring each bite as if it would be your last. there was a good chance that you'd get it again, especially since lucy liked it. however, you knew that you'd have to make some changes to fit it into your meal plans.

"now, not to ruin the moment, but i did slave over the stove making that breakfast for you…" lucy trailed off as she glanced towards the sink. you rolled your eyes as you stood up straight. you walked around the counter to where she was leaning to give her a kiss. it wasn't like her quick little peck on the cheek. you wanted a real kiss, and that was what you got.

"i'll do the dishes. go relax, i don't like the way you do them anyway," you teased. lucy scoffed and pouted at you, but the pout didn't last very long. she couldn't be pouty when you were kissing her and opening up your mouth just enough for her tongue to slip past your lips. you tasted like the breakfast she had just made, only with the heavy sweetness of maple syrup.

lucy moved to pin you against the counter as she deepened the kiss even more. the sweetness on your tongue was addictive. lucy just barely let you break the kiss for air before she was kissing you again. this time, you pushed back, slowly walking her into the living room before you shoved her away. lucy stumbled backwards, but she kept her eyes on you while you cleaned things up. you had meant it whenever you said you didn't like the way she did dishes, so you were glad when she actually stayed out of the kitchen.

[yujinslovr]

DAY 11 : rosé x fem!reader

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

CW: marking, infidelity, cunnilingus

word count: 1,233

a/n: reader has a husband bcz i refuse to write infidelity w a girl, also not proofread so pls excuse any mistakes🙁🙁

“r-rosie, d-don't leave any m-marks, he m-might find out!” you let out a small yelp when you felt rosie bite into your skin, for sure leaving a mark.

“I'll make sure to leave them, let him see. let him see how bad he does in bed, so much so that you have to find pleasure with me.” the way she breathed the words into your skin felt so insanely good. 

her soft lips glided along your bare neck, her hands softly kneading your boobs as she had her fun with marking you. “mm, gonna make sure your stupid husband knows that you don't care about him.” 

you let out soft moans at the feeling of rosé nibbling along your neck mixed with the stimulation on your breasts. her lips sucked a trail along your neck, leading to your breasts. she swirled her tongue around your areola, wrapping her mouth over your left breast. the soft yet wet feeling of her tongue on your breast was heavenly, rosie always had a way with her mouth. 

the ironic thing about your whole situation was that you had met rosé through your husband. rosé was your husbands boss, you were introduced to rosé at one of your husband’s work functions. even the thought of infidelity wasnt something you entertained before meeting rosé, you loved your husband and would never do something to harm your marriage. this changed the night you met rosé though, the way she reached for your hand, and placed a soft kiss on the dorsal side of your hand, you knew you were done for in that moment alone. you never meant for it to spiral into something this big. you were under the influence when you spent your first night with rosé, you told yourself it’d never happen again, that this was nothing but a mistake. 

seeing where you were now, it was obvious that it wasn't just a one time thing, rosé was the best you’d ever had. you just couldn’t seem to let go of her, everything about her intoxicated you, as if everytime you came into her vicinity you were suddenly under the influence. 

you just couldn't seem to think straight when you were with her. 

you didn't know when it got this far, but you honestly felt more for rosé than you ever could for your husband. every little thing she did seemed to bring you to another level of ecstasy, she knew your body too well. you felt so shitty whenever you had to face your husband, whenever you had sex with your husband you couldnt help but imagine it to be rosé fucking you instead. 

sex with rosé was usually fast and rough, never slow and sweet. for this reason rosé’s attitude today came as a surprise to you, the way she took her time to fully appreciate every part of your body  was something you’d never complain about. the softness of her hands along your body was truly an out of body experience. 

the whimpers and moans that left your lips were music to rosé’s ears. “p-please, n-no more t-teasing…” the way you tangled your hand in rosé’s hair, slightly tugging when you said that only served to spur rosé on into teasing more. she continued on with her painfully slow pace, fully allowing herself to enjoy your breasts. her hands firmly gripped your hips, stilling them and holding them down when she noticed you were bucking your hips up to meet her thigh. “patience, darling.” she chuckled out, licking downwards, stopping at your thighs. 

she drew shapes with her tongue on your inner thigh, getting close to where you needed but never quite reaching there. you were soaking. you needed her so badly, yet she seemed to be taking all the time in the world to reach where you needed her most. you tried to buck your hips up into her face yet you were stopped by the tight grip she had on your hips. you whined out in desperation not sure if you could handle another minute of teasing. tears formed in your eyes out of frustration, you needed her so bad. 

seemingly taking pity on you, rosé trailed her kisses up, sucking marks into your very inner thigh before leaving. her lips went up until they reached your most private part, she licked a broad stroke across you, tasting your arousal. she trailed her hands down to your inner thighs, giving them a small squeeze before spreading your legs open.

your moans at her actions were immediate, not being able to control yourself after being teased for so long. the feeling of her wet tongue on you was taking you to heaven. she slowly circled your clit with her tongue, one of her hands coming over to aid in what she was doing. she slowly eased a finger into your wet heat, her tongue on your clit never stopping. she groaned at the feeling of you clenching around her finger, the vibration it sent through your body had your eyes rolling. 

The wet sound of your arousal along with your moans filled the room, the lewd sounds turning rosé on more than she’d let on. “m-more, p-please, more..” abiding to your pleas, she eased in another finger, sucking harder on your clit. simultaneously, she snuck a hand down her own body, pushing her own underwear to the side to circle her clit. 

the vibrations her moans sent through your body alongside her unrelenting fingers were bringing your orgasm quicker than thought. rosie, seeing the tell tale signs that you were going to cum rosie was quick to still all movements on you. “not until i say, okay?” her hand on herself never stopped, just like her gaze on you didn't waver until you nodded in compliance. she licked her fingers that were previously in you and replaced them with her tongue, her hand, still wet with her spit trailing itself up to grope your breasts. 

you could feel your release building up, the feeling overwhelming you, yet you knew better than to cum without permission. “p-please, n-need to…” you couldn't say more nor tried to say more. you knew she understood.

“do you? how badly?” the question was a simple one really, but you couldn't seem to find the energy to form real words. your whines and grinding was met with a slap to your thigh “i'm not gonna repeat myself.”

“n-need it so bad, p-please need t’ c-cum, p-please!” once you opened your mouth, moans and pleas of her to just let you cum already couldn't seem to stop tumbling past your lips. lucky for you though, because rosé could also feel herself getting near.

“cum for me.” it was muffled due to the way you were squeezing your thighs around her head, but you heard it. her tongue in you never stopped, waiting for your release. with the permission of rosie, you finally allowed yourself to let go, a scream leaving your throat. rosé’s moans from her release were muffled, but definitely felt, helping you ride out your orgasm as she finished hers. 

you loosend your thighs that were wrapped around her head, with her head being free she pulled herself up and laid next to you in bed. “I love you.” she breathed out, licking her lips which carried your leftover arousal. 

“I'll send him the divorce papers tomorrow.”

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Homelander being obsessed with his sister HC II

Warnings: heavy siblingxsibling implications, Homelander being such a narcissist that he falls in "love" with his own sibling, dubcon, noncon, manipulation, stalking, basically all the horrible parts of HL come out to play, MC has blonde hair and blue eyes like HL, different plot than 'All I Ever Wanted, All I Ever Needed', kidnapping

I III IV V

Mother fucker would definitely find a way to lock you up in his personal apartment. It’s not easy to keep a supe that had the same powers as him as a captive. Through trial and error, Homelander would find a way to keep you hidden. His little secret

Has major mood change at work and a new skip in his step. All smiles and syrupy sweet voice.

Your parents and friends would go into immediate action to try and find you.

HL installs motion detector cameras throughout his apartment to keep an eye on you when he’s too far away. If anything happened, he knew he could be there in a flash

All day you were forced to wait for him until he got off of work (though does a hero ever really have time off?), like a pet. During that time all you could do was stare at the tv that HL had kindly turned on for you.

Of course you'd tried to escape in the beginning. But HL was faster than you.

Bored out of your mind from the constant stream of tv, you'd manage to wiggle over to the box that Homelander had shown you your first day there. You had time to really look at the contents though it was difficult without the free use of your hands. There were pictures of you as a little girl with your mom and dad. Lo and behold, you even found a picture of you on a young HL lap. Documents upon documents with Vought's stamp on them had you accepting the truth that HL was indeed your blood brother.

Homelander gives up trying to jog your memory once you inform him that you really don't remember much growing up. But you acknowledge him as being your sibling by blood.

"I believe you, but this doesn't condone kidnapping and keeping me here, Homelander." You countered, still not understanding why he went through all of this trouble. Just because you were his sister? That seemed too outrageous to you. Then again, you still didn't really know the real Homelander.

He corrects you. "John. You can call me John." He'd told you that several times but you just couldn't bring yourself to say such a simple name to this legend of a man.

Honestly, the whole abduction thing was a spur of the moment idea but once he found himself in the air with you in his arms, he made the decision that he was going to keep you to himself whether you liked it or not. That was the only way to make sure you wouldn't forget him again or leave him.

And some morbidly twisted feeling was growing inside of him every time he looked at you. You were perfect. Like he was. He talked himself into thinking that this was okay, that he was always meant for someone who was just as perfect as he was. And who better than you who has the same genetic mockup as he did.

He'd tell you all of this like it was the most simplest thing in the world. You gape at him in horror at his grotesque explanation.

Unnerve and discontent raised the hairs up on the back of your neck. What he'd said sounded a lot like him talking about incest. That roiled your stomach, making you feel sick.

He hated the fear he smelled on you in that moment, Homelander even pulls back from you and puts you at arm's length. You hate how he reduced you to someone so helpless. You also hate how much he really scares you.

Swallowing something thick in his throat, HL looks away from you with what you could only read as disgust. Maybe at you? Not for you though. For himself. He'd scared you and that was enough to shame him.

He'd mutter out an incredibly soft apology before leaving his apartment.

I'm thinking that as long as I have HC ideas of this, that I'll just be adding parts whenever the feeling strikes 🙂

[jenoslutie]

i saw your requests were open and im really craving jeno filth rn. can i request a blurb of mean/angry jeno wanting to try anal spur of the moment while fucking but theres poor prep. can there be focus on degrading, humiliation, & dacryphilia? i saw on your requests that you write some hard kinks so hopefully this works (if not, ignore me). thank you!

pairing: jeno x fem!reader

genre: smut

wc: 1501

warnings: degradation, humiliation, dacryphilia, anal (with little to no prep), mentions of haechan, angry jeno.

a/n: thank u anon!! im so sorry im replying so late i've been suffering with severe lack of motivation but thank u to @jenomov for motivating me to write this luv u bb!!

Ever since you and Jeno got home earlier, hes been upset and he won't tell you why. All you remember was being at a little get together with him and his friends and midway during the night he took you by the hand and told you that you guys would be leaving. The whole car ride was silent and you honestly don't have a clue what could be wrong with him. You'd assume one of his friends may have said something that pissed him off but if that did happen he would've mentioned it to you. All your attempts of trying to ask him have been pushed away with him either ignoring you or simply telling you to not worry about it.

"Jeno?" You walked into your shared bedroom after washing up where he was at his desk playing video games, already having changed into a pair of grey shorts and a white t-shirt. "Can you talk to me? what's wrong?" and much like the other times, he ignored you once again. Being fed up with his silent treatment, you went up to where he sat at his desk and took his headphones off his head, placing them on his desk and turning the chair around so he'd finally look at you for the first time since you'd gotten home today.

"Jeno, talk to me please, what's wrong? I don't know what I did and it's making me feel like shit knowing that I upset you and I don't even know what I did" Jeno groans, not amused that you reminded him of it again. "You know what, fine I'll fill you in." He sat you down on the floor in front of him and his voice was awfully calm which was a stark contrast to his demeanour from less than a minute ago. He tucks your hair behind your ear and ran his hands through your hair before grabbing a fistful and pulling it roughly, making you wince.

"I was looking for you the whole time today but where did I end up finding you? Sitting outside with Haechan. You know how he feels about you yet you still entertained it like some attention whore." He sneered as he says this and tugs on your hair harder.

Now you remember.

Jeno seemed to be occupied with his friends so you and Haechan decided to go and get some drinks from the kitchen before sitting outside and people watching. There was barely any dialogue exchanged other than some random comments the both of you made when you saw someone doing something funny.

So you tell Jeno that.

"You know, if you really want to slut yourself out to Haechan while your boyfriend is busy with his friends then go ahead. But for now, come on, strip" Jeno was seeing red at this point. He was already upset that you ditched him and when he finally did find you, he found you hidden away with his friend who's had feelings for you since time. What added on to his anger was you were wearing this skin tight black romper with no bra underneath so everyone could clearly see every curve of your body and your very hard nipples.

He watched you as you got rid of that stupid romper that made you look even sexier than you already were. "come on, take off those panties too, sluts like you don't need those. I'm surprised you even wore any in the first place." you complied with a slight frown, the situation was so arousing to you right now but you couldn't show him just how much it was affecting you. Jeno hummed as your naked body stood before him, his fingers finding their way to your nipples to toy with them before bringing his mouth to one and flicking his tongue over it making you moan softly. However that didn't last long until Jeno got off his chair and sat you on it instead. You brought your hand down to your sopping wet cunt and realized your wetness was dripping down onto his chair. You knew Jeno wouldn't be happy about it considering his mood right now so you chose not to even mention anything about it until he'd notice himself. Which clearly didn't last long because when Jeno looked down to where your hand was, he saw the mess that was made on his new gaming chair.

"What the fuck is this hmm?" Jeno raised his eyebrows at you making you close your legs and look down in shame. "You know, I was thinking of letting you off easy but I don't think you deserve it today. Get on your knees and clean up your mess." You whimpered at his degradation. As harsh as his words may get, you know he doesn't mean it at the end of the day. So you obeyed his command and fell to your knees and lapped up your arousal from his chair, leaving an arguably bigger mess but you know Jeno never really minded in the first place.

"Good girl. Get on the bed baby" You followed all his commands with no hesitation. Making your way over to the bed with him trailing behind you. He sat you on the bed before getting rid of his shorts and shirt. Immediately, you knew what that meant so you got right to work, licking at his tip before taking his length in your mouth. Sucking him off like you know he likes. Making a mix of his groans and the sound of you gagging from his length hitting the back of your throat fill the room.

He pulled you off him before he was able to reach the edge. "Get on your hands and knees." And you obeyed, arching your back the way he likes it. What you didnt expect was to feel his cock circling your rim. it's not your first time doing this with him but there was barely any prep or foreplay to prepare you for this. "Jeno? I dont think I'm prepped enough for anal right now..." you trailed off to which he slapped your ass in response. "You can take it I know you can, It'll feel good I promise" Dropping down a glob of spit to 'lubricate' your hole before he slid in just his tip around your hole, hips stuttering from the feeling of your hole squeezing him in. The pain was too much making your eyes well up "Jeno fuck..it hurts so much" And as if to make it better, he dropped another glob of spit on your hole to make the stretch more bearable (it didnt help much). When he finally bottomed out in your ass he let out a loud groan which you could almost feel from the way his cock twitched inside you. Your cheeks were stained with tears as you fought the urge to beg him to at least use some lube but the thought quickly went to the back of your head when he started pounding into your ass while rubbing at your clit.

"Jeno fuck" you sniffled and you didnt expect Jeno to fucking whimper at your tone. "Fuck baby are you crying?" He chuckled softly, flipping you onto your back to observe your messy tear stained face.

"You're so fucking pretty when you cry baby it makes me wanna ruin you more often. You like when I fuck you hard like this?" You nod and soon the pain is mixed with pleasure when he rubs at your clit harder and your arousal trails down to where his cock is pounding into you.

"Gonna cum Jeno feels so good" Jeno knew you were close from the way you tightened up around him and your legs shook around his waist. "Cum baby. show me that pretty teary face when you cum." And you did. Your orgasm hit you so hard that you sob even harder, your face a mix of tears and drool that made Jeno's high to follow right behind yours. He buried his cock all the way inside you and you feel the hot white ropes of cum filling you up.

Jeno slowly pulled out and collapsed next to you, wiping the tears off your face. "You're so good to me baby sorry if I was too rough today." You shook your head with a smile, not trusting your voice to do you any justice in the moment. Jeno returned the smile and gave you a soft kiss to your forehead.

"And just so you know, I'm not mad about the Haechan thing anymore. It was a stupid thing to get mad about I'm sorry" You smiled at the man before you. Jeno less than 10 minutes ago was nothing compared to the Jeno you were seeing right now.

"It's okay, I love you and only you okay?" He hummed with a smile, giving you another kiss to your forehead before he went off to get something to clean you up with.

[ss-skyearn]

Took Too Much

❝They say your love lasts forever if you see the first snow together.❞

PAIRING : Hwang Hyunjin x female!reader

WORD COUNT : 4.5k.

GENRE : Angst, Smut, Fluff.

WARNINGS/CONTENT : explicit sexual content, substance abuse, longing, mutual pining, vulnerability, they're in love and just want each other, angst with a happy ending.

SMUT WARNINGS : grinding, dry humping, foreplay, petnames, launderie kink, desperation, WORSHIPPING (quite literally), unprotected intercourse (don't try at home).

A/N : This piece is a little heavier than what I usually write but am particularly fond of it; feedback much appreciated. As usual, enjoy, lovelies. ♡

But it's a silhouette you'd recognize anywhere.

Those legs that you were trapped between during stolen moments of vulnerability.

Those large palms that held you down while you shook from the white hot pleasure the same hands brought you.

That soft blonde mop of hair that tickled your inner thighs when the same head was buried in your heat, almost every chilly night like today. And every warm one too.

It's funny.

How a single 'ding' can mean so much, can seize your heart, can threaten to bring out what you have been trying so hard to suppress.

It was a heat of the moment thing, done in good fun.

"It gives me a special privilege," he'd said.

"That makes no sense. You already occupy the largest unit in my heart," you'd breathed against his lips.

Moving back an inch, he'd whined, "It'll let you know it's me and that you have to abandon everything to give me attention. Pretty, please?"

You never could say no to his doe eyes, a fact he exploited on the daily.

So you'd given in, changing the ringtone for his messages and calls to one that is seperate from the rest of your contacts.

So really, it was a spur of the moment decision he'd proposed after having been interrupted mid make out session, him claiming a special place on yet another part of your being.

It's funny, honestly.

How the tone that once was the cause of butterflies going rampant in the pits of your belly, now has reason to cause grief of the same, if not more, measure.

You know who it is before you even chance a glance at your screen, but you look all the same.

Not knowing what you were expecting, the sorrow burning a deeper shade of red is felt and you reckon that it's the price to pay for reaching out to something you know would elicit a reaction such as this.

Hyun<3

You hadn't deleted his contact, the reason you're unsure of to this day. Perhaps a reminder that he did in fact once exist in your life, had a grounding presence, a place reserved all for himself in the mainland of your heart, and not someone entirely dreamt up.

It surely felt like it at times.

The silence from his end hurt you, broke you, shattered you, despite having been at your request. Days seemingly never ending, nights even moreso, your house empty, bed cold. All of it ate away at you a little at a time, leaving behind a silhouette tainted with holes, torn and run down at the edges.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't imagine, didn't long, didn't yearn for this very moment. The moment his side of the silence ceases, the moment he, despite your asks, reaches out.

So why does your heart feel about fit to burst at the seams? Why do you so badly want to run away? Why do you feel the air suddenly burning its way into your lungs?

"Hello?" your voice is but a whisper, foreign to anyone who's known you.

"Baby?"

Eyes closing shut, you let a long drawn sigh escape your nostrils. Being all too consumed in the eagerness of the manifestation of the moment you'd been wanting, you didn't stop to consider what his voice was capable of inflicting, underestimating your own longing for everything that's him.

"Baby, you there?"

"Why are you calling me?"

A rustling sound follows, as he lets out his own well deserved breath of air.

It's a sense of relief, if anything. Knowing that you're not the only one tormented.

A sick, sadistic kind of relief, sure. But relief all the same. Labels stopped meaning much to you a while ago.

"Missed your voice," he mumbles, tone having an unusual tilt to it.

You don't respond. Or rather, you can't. For if you will yourself to speak in this moment, a choked sob is about all that'll make its way out.

"Missed you," the tilt deepens and you catch yourself mere moments before voicing out your concerns. Not having spoken to him since the pair of you parted ways, it's going to take time adjusting to the fact that he's no longer accountable to your questions, your worries. And you're no longer expected to care for him.

You are no longer wanted.

"Why are you calling?" you echo, the fact that your voice is growing quieter by the second not lost on you. If anything, it's the same fact that withholds you from saying more.

"It's the first snow today."

You know what he's thinking. It'd be a lie to say you haven't been thinking the same all day.

You stay quiet, waiting for the blow.

When did you turn into such a masochist? You know the next thing coming out of his mouth is going to tear apart your tattered heart that you've been fixing up the past year since he left you.

"We met on the day of the first snow."

Alas, bandaids don't fix bullet holes.

They're ripped apart, shredded to nothing. Tattered and frayed, used for all their worth. Leaving behind the pieces of your heart, desperately clinging onto each other, trying and failing to stay in league.

"They say your love lasts forever if you see the first snow together."

A dry chuckle follows, filling the air with despair, a feeling contrary to the act in of itself.

"That's all fucking bullshit, isn't it?" the tilt to his voice wavers, a little sniffle enough to withdraw one from you too.

"Look where it got us," the silky voice breaks, the same one you adored.

The voice that once called you 'love', whispered confessions into your hair, your ears, your core. The voice that took on a hoarse tone when you woke up in his arms on late mornings, the one that promised to be with you always.

Empty confessions. Empty promises.

"Why are you calling?" seems like this is the only thing that's making its way out of your throat tonight. The only thing that can make its way out.

He hums, then chuckles again. The same hollow laugh, detached, impassive, phlegmatic.

"You always were stubborn, weren't you?"

"Hyunjin," your voice is stern, indicative of a warning.

But he finds no such emotion behind it.

"Keep going."

"Wh—"

"Keep saying my name. Please."

It's only going to take so much for the choked sob that you've been holding at the back of your throat to be let out. And it's taking every fibre, every alight neuron within you to keep it in.

"Why?" a meek whisper. Your voice wavering.

"Because I love it. Love you," a quiet sob. His tone trembling. "Still," A single word. Sealing in an entire universe worth of meaning.

Eyes falling shut again, you don't stop the trail of heat that burns your cheeks. For the first time in a year, you let yourself go. Let yourself feel.

Even if it's grief. Even if it's sorrow.

Your let yourself feel.

A huff of breath is heard through the receiver, followed by a shudder.

"You were always better than me with cold."

Your eyes snap open, back ramrod straight and despite knowing what you'll find, you hastily draw the curtains aside. And sure enough, the snowfall is steady, windy breeze rustling leaves off their petioles, streets emptier than they should be considering the early hours of night.

And for good reason.

"Hyun, are you out?"

"You still have me all figured out," he lets out, and you can almost see his breath condensing in front of his face, courtesy the coldest day of this year's winter.

"What are you doing out? Get in right now," the assertive tone isn't something you've used in a while. Maybe you just didn't have anyone to use it on anymore.

He chuckles again, seemingly the only reaction he's able to give you, the only reaction that doesn't involve speaking, lest the wobble to his tone give him away.

"Hyun, seriously. Get the fuck in."

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Don't know where I am," the sigh that follows lets you know that he just closed his eyes. It's the one he let out every night when he laid behind you, his chest to your back, him buried deep in you. It's when he felt the most at peace, he used to say. Coming home and being with you, feeling you, inside out. Quite literally.

Though what he's finding peaceful about the biting cold is beyond you.

"What do you mean you don't know? Hyun, don't fuck with me right now."

The next chortle is almost a laugh, the irony of your statement not lost on you. You think you hear something eerily similar to "how I wish" through the microphone, but you choose to ignore it.

"Hyunjin. For the last time, where are you?" even as your tone indicates your growing impatience, your body works on autopilot. Before you know it, you're getting up and reaching for your car keys, all while throwing a fleece jacket over your shoulder.

"Is getting you mad the only way to make you say my name?"

He's not listening. Something you're not used to. Sure, not listening and communicating is what got you both where you are today, but it's something you've never been at the receiving end of. It's the complaint he always had. And the complaint you always brushed off.

You suddenly remember another spur of the moment thing you did back in the day.

You pull out the app where you had your locations visible to each other, knowing of the other's whereabouts at all times. Your friends had called it a red flag, that he was possessive, obsessive even, to suggest something of this sort.

Little did they know it was your idea.

You see him, his little bitmoji some ten kilometres away from your current location.

Even as you're making your way to the car, shoving the steady falling snow out of the way, you make a show of protesting, "Use goggle maps and drive home."

"Can't drive either."

"Why?"

Silence.

And it gives you reason to fret. Despite the unnerving tilt, he's been responsive and dare you say vulnerable all throughout, the shake to his voice not holding him back from letting his feelings known.

So the first time he's silent is enough to make you break into a cold sweat.

"Hyun, why can't you drive?"

You hear him drag a hand down his face, some rustling of clothes following shortly after.

Another deep exhale, another beat of silence.

"Hyunjin," you settle on it as the last measure, knowing it's the only way he'll answer, the weakness he has for you saying his name made plenty clear today.

"I'm sorry," the whisper is barely there, almost lost in the sounds of your engine revving.

But he's the only one you've ever had ears for.

So you hear him. You hear him loud and clear.

"Why?" while he may not be egoistic, apologising isn't something either of you are good at. It's always been that way. A constant push and pull, a tug of war, a battle of wills, seeing you caves in first, who loses first. Hardly a healthy partnership, but what you had with him made it all worth it. More than worth it. He's the closest thing to a soulmate you'll ever have. If they do in fact exist, he's your other half.

He once was. He always will be.

"I- I just.. I'm sorry, baby."

Ice cold panic grips your heart, the external cold fading by comparison. He's apologized twice in a row now, and while your past self would call it improvement, in this moment, dread is the only sentiment you feel.

You stay silent, stepping on the race, praying he doesn't pick up on the sound of your engine accelerating.

A long moment of daunting silence later, he says something you don't understand, or rather refuse to understand.

"I took too much."

Its beyond refusal, a feeling akin to denial.

You deny to process what he just said, what he just implied, what he just meant.

"Stay right where you are," so, much like everything else, you choose to ignore it.

He seems taken aback for all of three seconds before his tone softens, "You coming to get me?"

You choose to ignore this too, convincing yourself that this is just mindless rambling to him.

His words suddenly hold no weight, his confessions empty.

Like always.

You glance at the GPS mounted to the dash.

One kilometre away.

"Do you remember when I kissed you?"

"You've kissed me more times than I can count."

Even as your heart is splitting in two, even after the recent realisation, you somehow find yourself reponding.

It's honestly all you've been wanting since he walked out of the bedroom, out of the apartment, out of your life that late September night.

"That day. The day of the first snow. The day we met."

You don't respond.

He takes it as a sign to continue.

"I knew it then. I know you knew it too."

Eight hundred metres.

"That you were for me. And I you."

Silence from your end again.

"How did we end up here?"

You know how. He knows how.

Five hundred metres.

Suddenly, a loud beep resounds, the call abruptly ending. That sends you into a chill panic, grip on the gear tightening. You pull over, and try tracing his location again. To no avail.

The location is gone. The ringtone goes straight to voicemail. Messages not delivering.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to remind yourself between deep breaths that he's capable of taking care of himself.

But then comes a gush of memories. Of a time when he walked straight into a pole while facetiming you once. You'd laughed then and called him a manchild.

The memory, albeit fond, doesn't help ease your worries, only aggravating the uneasy churn of your stomach.

Exhaling loudly, you talk yourself down your own anxiety first, realising that this is the first step if you want to have any chance at getting to him.

This is the general location, you remember. Once again, you kick start your car, the frantic rumble of the engine echoing down the empty roads, signifying the urgency of the affair.

It takes another twenty minutes and a slow drive down the snowy streets for you to spot a silhouette in the distance.

The person is slumped down against a rusty pole, back pressed to it, long legs propped up with feet flat on the snow covered pavement, head resting on the bend of their elbow thrown over upward knees. With their head buried in the crook of their arm, their face isn't visible, the thick smog hovering around them adding to the haze.

But it's a silhouette you'd recognize anywhere.

Those legs that you were trapped between during stolen moments of vulnerability.

Those large palms that held you down while you shook from the white hot pleasure the same hands brought you.

That soft blonde mop of hair that tickled your inner thighs when the same head was buried in your heat, almost every chilly night like today. And every warm one too.

You don't know when you got off your car, for now you find yourself looking down at the same silky golden locks.

Your boots sink into the snow, the ice underneath them melting.

He gives no indication of knowing of your arrival, and you wonder if he's managed to somehow fall asleep here.

Tiny snowflakes having made themselves home on his hair, almost forming a halo, he looks angelic. You reach out, wanting to dust them off his head before your stop, hand hovering.

You're suddenly tentative, when you didn't hesitate to tug on these very locks whenever he was in you.

That simple knowledge brings forth the harsh reality.

He's here. Right in front of you. Yet so far away.

Hand still in air, you're entirely unprepared when his head suddenly shoots up, palm grabbing your wrist.

"Baby?" his voice is gravelly, eyes bleary.

Yet he's the most perfect piece of art you ever did see.

He's gorgeous, your mind says to you— as if the fact could've ever been hidden, been denied even in incoherence.

But it's when you look closely that it comes crashing down. The realisation.

His slim face is gaunt now, eyes red and hazy, bags prominent. He's gorgeous, sure, but not as stunning as he once was.

You're suddenly knocked off balance, back pressing into the pole he was just resting on, the surface hot from his warmth.

It takes far too long for you to perceive what it is that's actually happening. His fingers dig into your hips, large palms splayed over your back, winding to the front, thumbs meeting. Warm breath tickles your neck, forcing out a gasp of your own.

"You're here," his voice is hushed, reverent even, afraid that the illusion of you would disappear any moment.

You nudge his shoulder, trying to shake him off, albeit unwillingly.

He removes himself from where he's nestled, looks you in the eye before closing them, forehead resting against yours.

From what you were able to make from that brief glimpse into his orbs, they're bloodshot, not the kind that result from lack of sleep nor the ones that speak of tiredness.

No, they are indicative of him being far away from the realm of normal thinking. It's the excuse you allow yourself to live, the reason you don't push him off you.

He's not thinking.

His tongue darts out, gliding over the plump of his lower lip, the texture of which you know by heart. Parting open, quick breaths leave him, and the proximity is to blame for the fact that it goes right into your mouth.

He puffs rapidly as if suddenly breathless, lips quivering, seemingly trying to find something to say, or perhaps trying to not say what his heart wants to.

"Tell me you're real this time."

This time?

"Hyun—"

"Just- just tell me you're really here," his eyes open slowly, drowsily, forehead still pressed into yours, hands sliding from your hip up your sides, caressing, feeling, landing on your nape.

Once again they circle you, this time overlapping over the back of your neck as he pulls you closer still, "That I'm not making you up again."

"What happened to you?" looking into his eyes again, you know it's not him. He's gone. For now.

So it's more of a question to yourself than to him.

What happened to him? What happened to your artist, your lover, your Hyunjin?

And just as you surmised, your question fell on deaf ears for he is a man on a mission.

"Baby, you're here right? With me? You came to me?"

Moving to close your nimble hands over his big ones, you relish in their warmth for a moment, the reason of said unnatural heat another thing you choose to ignore for now.

You can wallow in guilt by yourself later. All you want.

But now that you've allowed yourself this moment of weakness with him, you plan to bank on it.

"Yes, Hyun, it's me. I'm here."

Encircling your arms around broad shoulders, you pull him to you, into you. His own hands slip to your hips, squeezing you right back.

"I keep seeing you everywhere, everyday. Wherever I am. Whenever I'm awake."

You think you hear a sob, but don't let it show, for you're not immune to the sorrow either.

Maybe the apathetic front was just that, after all. A front. One you had to put up, one you had to believe in— fool yourself into believing in, if only for self preservation.

"You're not making me up this time."

He doesn't reply with words, doesn't need to. The way his hold on you tightens, lips brushing the side of your neck speaks volumes.

Hot, wet kissed trail up the column of your throat, their heat melting off any snow falling on you. Surroundings be damned, you throw your head back, giving him the silent consent.

That seems to be invitation enough for him, as his kisses turn to sucking, sucking turns to biting. He's marking you, something he enjoyed partaking in quite a lot back in the day, and you already know the colour of each of the marks that he's leaving, only through the pressure and the ratio of tongue-teeth action he spares your skin.

You permit it, indulging him, indulging yourself.

But it's when he noses his way to your jaw and finally lifts up to look into your eyes that you're reminded of reality, of his incapacitated state.

You jolt back, practically shoving him off.

He's understandably puzzled, brows creasing, panting.

"Wh— did I do something wrong? I remember you liked when I did this? You don't anymore?"

"No. It's not that. I do like it. Maybe even more than before."

The crease to his forehead eases out as he takes a single step forward, to which you take one of your own. In the opposite direction.

He stops dead in his tracks, the bend to his brows deeper than before.

"Baby, why are you going away from me?"

You try not to look into his eyes, the branching redness visibly growing new stems by the second.

"Don't go away from me."

Unlike what some might assume, you're not put off, not repulsed by gleam to his eyes, nor by their sanguinence. In not too proud of a moment, you'd say you're even used to it.

It's what you see every time you look into the mirror. What you hate, what you need.

A vicious cycle. A cursed affair.

The glint in your eye reflects his, ignites his, the two light beams meeting to string together.

The profane symphony. The impious consonance.

You did try. Tried not to let it take over you, it's been more than half a day since you last indulged in a sniff, after all. But Hyunjin is nothing if not a vice to your repressive instincts.

Your kryptonite. Your aphrodisiac.

One look at his bloodhsot eyes and you know this is it. He is the one. Who else could be the other half to your broken, tattered soul? Who else could be the mirror image of your own intoxicated orbs? Who else could slot into your cracks?

He steps forward, and this time you don't have it in you to recoil. Closing your lids, you let him snake his arms around your waist, pull you impossibly close. His face finds the comfort of your neck again, hot breathe laced with desperation marking the seeping away of the last of your restraint, taking with it any hope you had to do this right. For once.

"Don't go."

You've known him long enough to realise he's pulling apart your guard, piece by excruciating piece. You've known yourself long enough to realise you're caving, embracing the pain that is him.

"Let's get you home."

You don't see anything, too consumed in the fire that is him, his touch.

You're kissing him like you need him to breath. He's kissing you like he needs you to survive.

His hands pull down the zipper to your shirt, legs guiding you back onto the bed proper, step by step.

You land on your back with a soft thud, shirt thrown off somewhere. His own following suit soon after.

His eyes land onto the black lace adorning your chest, shining and all too inviting. The same lace he got you for your two year anniversary, the same lace he had you in that day, the same lace he had you in on countless days after that.

He places one knee between your legs, the duvet dipping, and nuzzles his face in your cleavage, taking in a long inhale.

Nosing about, he whispers, "Are you doing this on purpose?"

You know what he means. He never failed to mention what this set did to him, to his brain, his length. And you'd made it a point to use it against him every chance you got.

Today however, was not that chance, but you're grateful for the fateful coincidence.

He gets up only to slowly peel off your leggings and partially hovers over you, knee between your legs again, this time much closer to the warmth of your core.

His eyes trail down your figure, taking in all the curves, the crevices. Remembering all that once was his, learning all that he wasn't there to witness during your time apart.

His hands gently move up and down your sides, caressing and massaging, eyes going back and forth between the two lace pieces.

They're the same pair, but your body has changed quite a bit since he last had you in it.

You've somehow managed to surpass your own beauty and it's nothing if not a detriment to his sanity.

And his stamina. He's suddenly not too proud of it, if the exponential build up of his arousal is any indication.

The heavy caresses have now pushed you down the bed, your heat coming in contact with the rough patch of denim on his knee. You gasp at the contact, your core tender from how drenched you are from all his staring and fondling.

He picks up on it and uses his hold on your hips to begin grinding you on his knee. You groan, your thin silky lace and his thick rough denim adding to your arousal. Never would you have imagined that simple gliding, over the confines of clothes no less, could feel this good.

This is what being with Hyunjin is always like. Trying, experimenting, tapping into uncharted territory, with the knowledge of safely, of assurance, of security.

Sleeping with him, you got to know of your own body, what made it tick, your likes, your turn ons.

Being with him, you got to know of yourself, what made you you, your talents, your strengths.

Existing with him, simply made you whole.

So if this is all you get, you'd be content.

Moans and whimpers echo in the room that's now empty without his studio table nestled in the corner, without his clothes piled up in random heaps, without music equipment thrown astrew on the wooden floor.

Empty. Empty. Empty. Without him.

"Goddess."

A loud moan rips from your throat, the sound unholy. Your eyes snap open, in shock of your own reaction.

"You like that?"

Staring up at him with wide eyes, you're not sure what to say. It's yet another uncharted territory, yet another epiphany. And you're grateful it's with him.

Leaning forward he captures your lips between his soft ones, tongued clashing, spit mixing, swaying his head side to side, smearing your collective essence all over your cheeks and jaws.

"Like it, my goddess?"

Another equally loud moan echoes, even as his grinding has ceased. Your response is unprompted, no physical stimulation in sight.

While it might have been embarrassing, you're anything but.

Simply because it's him.

And you're not yourself. And he's not himself.

But you're together. All else rendered trivial.

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[buckets-and-trees]

Consort

Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: Namor x female!Reader Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Diplomatic fraternization is never easy and situations can turn on a dime. When you accompany your father to negotiate future ties between your two underwater kingdoms, one mistake changes everything.

Content Warnings: SMUT, thigh riding

Additional Notes: Before this week it had never even as a WHIM come across my radar to write anything Namor. But two-almost-three-days ago @artsynellyyy shared a ridiculously gorgeous unfinished piece of art she was working on, asked for some input, and it spurred a plot concept that just GRIPPED my brain and had me feeling THINGS. I don’t think I will be writing a lot of Namor, but I do know there’s certainly a part two to this because…there’s more story for these two in my head. There’s a particular moment that exists for them that as this developed, I knew could not happen yet for them, it would’ve been too rushed. So… just… Happy fourth installment of the 2022 Holiday Extravaganza!

A/N 2: Be gentle! This is my first attempt at Namor. I did some canon diving and research, but I did not dive deep into the Namor fandom because I didn’t want to get too influenced about established patterns or too intimidated about what’s already out there. Honestly kind of terrified to publish this one, so just... jumping out of the airplane and pulling the parachute okay bye.

“Let us speak without pretense,” the king of Talokan’s voice resonates powerfully through the throne room. “Tell me why you sought private audience with me today, Hamal.”

Standing at the right hand of your father, you observe the way he draws his shoulders up just a fraction more, the way his nostrils flare just before he speaks again. “Fine, I will speak plainly, Namor. Your recent dealings with the surface, particularly with the kingdom of Wakanda, is concerning to the kingdom of Fourchon.”

“Why should it concern you?” Namor patiently humors the conversation further, but you can read that the patience is wearing thin.

“King to king, I find it concerning because it calls into question whether we are moving into a state of volatility for all who dwell in the oceans, and I have no wish to see my people drawn into hostilities or war of any kind.”

“And you are here to ensure continued peace between our nations?”

“I am.”

Your heart isn’t racing, but the beats thrum more swiftly against your chest as you will this to go well.

“And what do you propose, Hamal? What does the kingdom of Fourchon possibly have to offer Talokan?”

There’s a moment of silence that hangs between the two rulers, then your father answers, “Her.”

Every muscle in your body seizes with dread, your heart skipping a beat. Your eyes widen, but every bit of diplomatic rearing mercifully allows you to keep your mouth from dropping open in complete shock.

“My daughter.”

You cannot look at either king, looking straight ahead to keep your composure, but you register the sharp change in Namor’s voice. “Fourchon is neither enemy nor ally to Talokan, and yet you come to my court with the arrogance of demanding peace between our countries when for more than three hundred years there has been nary a quarrel. Indeed, your small kingdom has meant nothing to me, an inconsequential player amongst underwater realms. We have maintained social civility only because you were not worth any more or less to me.

He pauses, and you can feel the tension rolling in waves off your father.

“Your offer is horrible, but I will give you what you came here to bargain and secure today for the sake of your people, despite the prideful blunder of their king. Now leave.”

You are desperate to acquiesce to Namor’s command after the humiliation of being offered first as a trinket or some form of tribute and then receiving by association a political rebuke, and you turn immediately to depart with your father.

“Not you, Princess,” his voice halts you.

You watch your father leave; he doesn’t look back at you or Namor.

“Come here,” the king of Talokan says.

You turn back to face him, squaring your shoulders and looking straight at him as you approach. Your father had asked for a private audience, and you are grateful for that as no one else saw the disaster that just took place.

He regards you openly. You focus on breathing evenly when all you want to do is flee from this room and let your emotions rage. When his gaze meets yours again, he tilts his chin and narrows his eyes ever so slightly.

“Do you not kneel for your king?”

Heat rushes from your chest up to flood your cheeks, and your throat feels thick with anger, but you manage to speak. “You are not my king.”

“Did I not accept the terms offered?”

“An offer you called horrible,” you say as you sink to your knees and bow your head as is customary.

“The offer, not you.”

Your head snaps back up at these words.

“And the offer was horrible in relation to you, not me.”

Your brow furrows in question.

“When your father made the overtures for this meeting, I asked my ambassador to share with me his outlook on your kingdom and your court.”

“You said we were inconsequential.”

“But an element that still exists.”

He evaluated the full landscape. You were under no illusions that the kingdom of your birth was small in comparison to Talokan or Atlantis, but  he was a ruler who wasn’t fool enough discount the smaller players.

“My ambassador said,” he continues, “that your people love and respect you and that it is a loss to Fourchon that you were both second-born and a daughter of the throne instead of a son.”

Resentment spreads through your veins at these words. You’d fought the unrest of what you would not be able to do while also feeling confident in your brother’s ability to rule, that he’d proven himself worthy of his birthright.

“He said you were your father’s favorite.”

You had thought that, too. And yet… “How easily he would bargain me away would say otherwise.”

“It was clear you had no indication of his intent.”

A bitter laugh escapes your throat. “Truly. I thought he valued my presence, my counsel, even perhaps my help in diplomatic relations, but I was only a pawn.”

“No.”

You narrow your eyes and cock your head to the side.

“I think you are wrong. Stand, Princess.”

You rise slowly, with as much grace as you can.

He moves from the throne, stepping over the jaw that frames his seat of power, and moves down the steps toward you.

“In future you kneel for only me, no one else.”

You remain in your place as he slowly circles you.  

“I did lecture your father for his arrogance on an improper read on the state of affairs, assuming Talokan would turn on Fourchon. However, as a king, I do not fault him for caring for the welfare of his people, or for overestimating the value of his kingdom,” he states, his voice warming with this admission. He comes to a stop in front of you. “And to negotiate safety and peace for his people?” He raises his right hand and draws his fingers down reverently along your jaw. “He offers you, his greatest treasure. He insinuates you are worth more than an entire kingdom.”

You open then close your mouth, unsure how to respond to this interpretation. Your eyes search his, but all you can see there is a resoluteness that he truly means what he’s just said. It’s disarming, and with the way your world fell out from under you only minutes ago, you’re unsure of what to trust now.

Namor radiates confidence, it rolls easily off him in waves, but when he takes a step closer, you can feel the heat of him. His fingers move over your shoulder and down the length of your arm, and you shiver but keep holding his gaze. Your instincts tell you that every moment in this room has been significant, it’s determining your future, every movement, every word, every observation.

He takes half a step closer, only a whisper of space between you now, and you hold your ground. He almost smiles, then he turns away, seizing your hand and leading you up the stairs of the dais, and you quickly lift your skirts so you can ascend quickly behind him. Up close you can admire the artistry of the jaw that encases his throne. Like him, it’s charming, beautiful, and dangerous, each intricate designs carved into the bone, and the teeth replaced with jade stones.

“Your father was right to anticipate a shift in my rule.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been king of Talokan for centuries, but my dealings with Wakanda have me considering eventualities of the future.”

Namor takes steps over the jaw, then draws you carefully in with him, still holding your hand as you step over the mighty frame, before finally releasing it. He turns back to look out over the throne room and further the drop off to look out over the kingdom of Talokan, but angles himself slightly toward you as well, and you mirror him. It’s a breathtaking view, and you imagine it is an altogether different manner of beauty with the court or an audience of people called to convene. But like this, still and quiet, it’s ethereal.

“You will be my queen.”

“That’s a bold declaration.”

“You’ve been offered to me in exchange for a promise of peace for your people, would you renege?”

You close your eyes briefly but square your shoulders and shake your head.

“Now you can choose your course in this.”

“Enlighten me,” you can’t hold back, though you do manage to keep your voice even.

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, but he’s speaking again before you can decipher it. “If I’m to have an heir, to secure the future, ensure stability for my people, I need a queen; but whether you merely bear my child or become my consort is something I cannot determine for you. I would prefer the latter.”

In the next second, he’s pulled you to his side and captured your lips in a kiss that is altogether slow and searing. His arm winds around your waist, bringing you flush against him, and your hands move of their own volition to rest on either side of his neck. Heat runs through your veins, and you know without question he could consume you.

You break off the kiss, but he respectfully retreats. He takes a seat on the throne, and you see he’s as breathless as you are.

But you broke off the kiss to ask the question that will haunt you if you don’t ask it.

“You’re truly ready to bind me to your side, just like that? You don’t even know me.”

“This is not a marriage of convenience. This is a marriage of opportunity.”

“I’m not–“

He holds up a hand to silence you, but it’s not in impatience, you can see that in his face, and he immediately says, “I will grant you that we do not know each other yet, but I know enough to know who you are. I have the trusted insight of my ambassador, but I also have accounts from people who have served and interacted with you here in my own kingdom these past two days, and biologically prolonged life or not, a king also doesn’t keep his crown or the respect of his people for as long as I have without being able to judge those around him well. You were taken by surprise today, but you are not naïve. You came to my court to be of counsel, serve, influence. Why should that not still be your fate?”

“A foreign princess?”

He shakes his head and holds his hand out to you. “A queen consort.”

You search his face again. This was the moment. You could not read any falseness, arrogance, or cruelty. Indeed, though he was surprising you with this swift and forthright proposition, your intuition doesn’t question him or his intentions.

You take the hand he presented, and he pulls you forward, placing his hands on your hips once you are close enough and guiding you to sit astride one of his powerful thighs, the rich fabric of your dress sliding up your legs. You place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself.

“I want your mind, your body, and your soul,” he says, sealing it with your name, not your title.

“I want the same,” you say.

“You’re sure?”

“I need the same.” Being this close to him is both invigorating and steadying. The way he is looking at you, the way he is holding you, it’s also intimate and heated, and those feelings are amplified as he pulls you just a little closer.

“Then take what you need,” he commands in a tone that makes your heart soar and desire bloom in your stomach. He flexes his thigh against your core, and it spurs you to lean in and kiss him again, hungry for more.

He matches your eagerness. When his tongue seeks entrance, you open your lips, moaning. He begins rocking your hips back and forth over his thigh, and you know he can feel the heat and the wetness of the desire he’s stoked within you seeping through the silk of your underwear. As you take control of moving against him, his hands travel up your sides until he reaches your breasts, and his thumbs brush over the tender flesh. You both moan, him in approval, and you with pleasure. You’re swept away completely in all the sensations, in his passion, your body singing for him. He is a powerful force, one you will have to be sure to meet with your own spirit and fire so you aren’t lost. This union is for fulfilment for you both, not to be destroyed, diminished, or tossed away.

As you speed up, he drops one hand down to anchor on your hips, helping you grind down on his thigh. He keeps flexing it against you, and you whimper, head falling back.

“Keep going,” he growls against the column of your throat, kissing his way down to the sweet spot at the base of your neck. “I love the way your body is trembling; I can tell you’re so close.”

“Yes, Namor,” you keen.

“K’uk’ulkan,” he says, and your head snaps back up, eyes locking intensely with his.

“K’uk’ulkan,” you repeat – the invitation to use the more personal name drops the intimacy between you two to a deeper level.

You both move with a desperate frenzy now, you craving the release and him eager to give it to you, his lips searing every inch of the exposed skin available to him at your neck, collar bone, pulling at the neckline of your dress.

“So close,” you cry.

“Let go.”

And you do, tight coil of ecstasy peaking and releasing, you cling to him, and as your body begins to relax wish pleasure, you press your forehead to his, both of your eyes closed now, sealing the moment in your memory.

His hands are slowly running up and down your back. “Jach ma’alob,” he croons softly. “This is enough for now; there will be so much more, my queen.”

Jach ma’alob = very good

PART TWO: COMPANION

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

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My askbox is always open. See you on the flipside for day four of AHE...

[ping-ping-ying]

Rainy Day With Alhaitham

Note: Adventurer gn reader! Established relationship, just some pure fluff because it's been raining for two days straight here💓

Alhaitham:

Has a love hate relationship with rainy days

It's so inconvenient at times

Especially when he needs to go out and do some research

But on the other hand if he's not busy and has free time, he uses it as an excuse to do nothing all day but relax

So it has it's pro's and cons

Meanwhile you were on the verge of having a mental breakdown because you wouldn't be able start your journey back to the desert to help out an old friend

It was important, so you tried to get your things ready until a voice from the living room started you out of your thoughts

"What are you doing?"

"I'm uh- packing my bag?"

"Don't tell me you plan on traveling in this weather? You know better than to do that. The forest can be very dangerous during this kind of weather."

Alhaitham was in the doorway of your bedroom, crossing his arms while wearing his usual blank expression on his face

“It doesn’t matter, I’ve traveled in more dangerous weather before. This is important and you know it takes a while to travel to the desert on foot-”

He stood behind you and grabbed both your arms, holding them in place

“I’m pretty sure this can wait until the weather clears up.”

“Alhaitham-”

Within seconds he spun you around and placed both of his hands on your shoulders

“Spend this rainy day with me before you leave.”

Letting out a huge sigh, you nodded your head and placed your bag on the floor next to the bed

“Fine, but I am leaving at dawn.”

“Understandable.”

Alhaitham wandered back into the living room while you decided to change back into some loungewear

After changing, you went to the living room and sat on the couch

Meanwhile, Alhaitham was in the kitchen making something

His book was placed next to you, and curiosity plagued your mind, so you grabbed the book and flipped through a couple of pages

You understood next to nothing besides some sentences and flung the book back down

“Did my book pique your interest?”

The man came back with two mugs in his hand and handed you one before sitting down next to you on the couch

“For a second, but then I tried to read some of the words and gave up.”

“Hmm, figures as much.”

“Hey!”

You playfully shoved his shoulder, causing a chuckle to escape his lips

As the rain continues to pour down, you and Alhaitham sit on the couch while he reads his book and you reading your travel journal

Even though you have no idea what the book is about you would ask him questions anyway

He tells you bits and pieces in a way you can understand but some of it still flies over your head

After a while of him reading books and you took the initiative to steal his book from him, mark his page, and put it to the side

“(Y/N)? What are you-”

“Shhh.”

You gently push him back on the couch, to where he is now laying down and you lay on top of him getting cozy

“If you wanted some affection, you could've just said so.”

His face has the god-awful annoying smirk he usually always wears proudly

“No.”

Alhaitham wraps his arms around you and rubs your back soothingly

You lift your head up a bit to stare at him, bringing one of your hands up to his face to caress his cheek softly

His eyes immediately open and stares into yours, a small smile appearing on his face

“I’m going to miss you.”

“Don’t think about tomorrow, let’s enjoy the moment.”

“Okay, rainy days with you are honestly one of the best things I could ever ask for in life.”

“Likewise.”

So in conclusion, a rainy day with Alhaitahm would be so wholesome. Mainly with him reading his books, but if you’re there, he wouldn’t mind if you forced him to put down the books and just cuddle for a while. Apologies if this isn’t the best, this was literally just spur-of-the-moment writing lol.

[itsalinh]

It’s 5:30am here and who needs sleep when we can stay up and talk about s03e06 Jamie and Roy?

Friendly reminder, Jamie used to have Roy’s poster on his wall when he was a kid. To every young kid out there, the one on their wall was their hero, a role model that they strive for every single day. Jamie grew up thinking that someday, he’d be like Roy Kent. You know, the Roy Kent who played for Chelsea, which arguably the most successful club in London, the Roy Kent who won a fucking European Champions League. This precious and reputable UCL trophy is the dream of every footballer. Some would measure a footballer’s success by how many prizes they got, and believe me, this trophy is a rock solid proof.

Jamie is a great player with so much talent, he signed for Manchester City (a real deal in EPL), and he also made it to the team line up every damn time. MC is always known for their squad-depth in every position, and it’s not easy to always be on the starting XI list. I’d like to think that Jamie looked up to Roy a lot, he keeps training and training, with a hope til some day he could win trophy just like his role model.

Jamie finally got a chance to play alongside Roy. He must have been crazy about it. But their early days was not so easy. Jamie came to realise Roy had changed, he was no longer the one Jamie idolised so much as before anymore. He felt angry and disappointed. Jamie became the one in charge of the locker room, directly against the team captain. Things weren’t going well.

Luckily enough, the new manager came and steadily alternated the locker room tensed atmosphere. Both Jamie and Roy acknowledged their own problems, as well as the other one’s. They finally understood each other better. That hug, oi, it was like a big smash to the final concrete wall between them. It was not the action coming out of a spur of the moment. Roy felt the urge to comfort his team member, his younger lad, his friend. He knew a hurt Jamie needed that.

This season saw a further change in their relationship. They trust each other more and more. And this time, they even open to each other about their utmost vulnerable thoughts and memories. Roy and Jamie are not the type of people who would share their feelings to somebody else. Roy hid them under his rage, while Jamie just suppressed them because of his “dad”. For the first time, Roy admitted that he let out all of his anger on Jamie, sometimes for no reasons. And goshhhhhhhh, Jamie did not even question that, he shrugged it off immediately and literally said “For Grandad”. Such a beautiful char arcs from both of them. In return, Jamie also share some of his traumatised and heartfelt memories with his “dad” and mom. I don’t think he ever told that to anybody, even with Keeley or Ted. So this is a positive sign for their mental health, and I love to see men talking about their feelings like true heroes.

These football himbos are taking up spaces in my mind. And honestly speaking, I’ve been really sad and disappointed and depressed while watching an actual football club recently, and another lighthearted fictional football club is making my days a lot better. So guys, say thank you to Ted Lasso!

[superstar027]

STAR-CROSSED

I wish I could shine as bright as the moon. Sure, the sun is beautiful, but staring at it lovingly could burn. I wish I could be like the moon, admired despite its threatening shadow. I believe I am the moon. A moon in a constant state of eclipse. My sister burns like the sun; So shiny and bright I could barely compare. Meanwhile, I am the moon constantly in her shadow. Everything I did she could do better. She could be born with a healthy body, I couldn’t.

            The doctors said it was terminal; my parents told me they were lying. The hospital has been my home since I was 5 and there are no signs of that changing any time soon. To be honest, my biggest fear was dying here suffocated and alone. I wanted my life to end on a beach with the loud waves and wind crashing together to create a beautiful harmony only for me and my love to hear. I wanted the moon to shine brighter and stronger than before on that night. That’s how I want it to go. Want. Nothing interesting ever happened in these hollow halls. Maybe in the field or rooftop but I could only go there once in a while so it seemed very unlikely. That’s what I thought.

            A sudden loud bang of my door opening startled me from my sleep. There stood a man with hair that shone like stardust, and his eyes were like two big moons looking down on me. “I’m sorry I disturbed you from your sleep but could you please help me find my grandma’s room?!” His voice sounded of urgency. I knew then and there that I would give up everything if it meant he could shine. I hurriedly put on my slippers and my robe and we sped-walked all the way down to his grandma's room. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the sight of an old woman slowly struggling to breathe with her family surrounding her. She looked content. If I couldn’t die the way that I want, I hope it’ll still go like this. I closed the door after he went in hoping to give him some privacy while I sat on the bench near her door thinking about a more realistic way to go. The door suddenly creaked open revealing the same man with tears flowing down his eyes like an endless waterfall. He sat beside me holding his head in his hands in deep sorrow. In the spur of the moment, I embraced him. We sat like that for minutes, maybe even hours, before a nurse called me to return to my room. We locked eyes before I regretfully said goodbye.

            The next day, the same star boy came to visit me. He said he wanted to thank me for helping him find his grandma and that he was glad he could see her before she went. “I’m sure she was happy you were there before she went.” I said with a smile I could barely contain. He started visiting me more often after that. He said I was his ‘friend’ but were we ever really? With each frequent visit, we got closer and closer. I wanted him to be mine and mine only. I couldn’t share him, no. Please be mine, even if it’s a short amount of time, even if it’s childish and selfish! I’ve never wanted someone so strongly before! I couldn’t risk losing him!

            “Is this your sister in the picture?” He said holding a picture frame kept on my bedside. Why did he have to be so observant? “You probably think she’ pretty huh?” I asked self-degradingly. “Sure. But honestly, I think you’re prettier.” He said still observing the picture. “I’m not saying personality-wise but physically. You’re prettier. You have this beautiful spark and power in your eyes I haven’t seen before; and your smile… You don’t know how much your smile drives me crazy!” He said in such a beautiful admiring tone. This was it. I had to confess. I didn’t have time to spare. “I love you. You don’t have to love me back; I know the burden of it! But please stay beside me, just a little while longer!” I said with my eyes shut so tight. He got closer. Put his forehead onto mine. I opened my eyes and met his. “I love you too, please don’t ever say you’re a burden because that is far from it.” We smiled. Slowly, over time I got better! I could go on more walks. Go to the courtyard on the rooftop. I could even go outside! It’s like being with him gave me the strength to go on!

            Until it didn’t. There we were, sat on the beach. It was just like how I had imagined. The wind and the waves were crashing together creating a beautiful harmony for me and him to listen and enjoy. The moon was shining brighter than ever before, it was calling out to me. “I’m sorry I loved you…” I mustered out slowly struggling to breathe despite all the air surrounding us. “I know you must be feeling tortured right now.” My words were met with silence. “Please don’t apologize. Our love is not something we should regret but something we should cherish. I love you, and although I’m sad to see you go; I’m happy you get the chance to be free. Please wait for me up there my love.” He said while I held his hands while my head laid on his shoulders. These were the words I was waiting for. I can go happily now. “Goodbye my star…”  

With that, I joined the moon and the stars. Dancing freely, shining happily. I go down to the beaches sometimes to meet with my love. I’m so glad he can look upon me without getting hurt. He knows that I’ll be waiting here patiently for the day our star-crossed souls can reunite once again.

CHARACTERS: ARMIN ARLERT, YUJI ITADORI, Hinata Shouyo,

Izuku Midoriya.

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

Fuck buddies V

Warning: swearing, smut

Author's note: I just wanted to say thank you for reading, your support and comments. I hope you enjoy the new chapter 😘

You literally gulp as you drink Colson in. You have no words to express how utterly turned on you are. The smirk on his face lets you know exactly what your eyes are telling him. Fuck me. You take in a shuddering breath as he steps into the shower with you, immediately drenching himself with the water. You want to reach out and touch him but something is holding you back. Like you want to be in control, you’re begging to be in control but you don’t know what you would do with the power. 

You’ve never been in control when you and Colson have had sex. He always called you, he always showed up at your place drunk and horny. He always made the rules, gave the instructions and took the lead. You had sex the way he wanted to. If he wanted to be rough, you’d bite your tongue and bear it. If he wanted to go slow, you’d savour every moment. Savour.

You finally work out what’s bugging you. Colson wanted tonight to be your last time together. How can you tell if that’s changed or if he’s just trying to get it anyway he can. Would he really say nice things just to get you into bed? You grimace as you think about the first time you did have sex. He said the sweetest things about you. How much he loved being around you, how beautiful he thought you were, how you could make him laugh like no one else. It’s his calling card, it’s his move. Say the right thing, get the woman into bed.

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” he asks, frustrated by your silence. He reaches out and strokes his fingers down your cheek and you feel your heart begin to race.

“I…” Would honesty scare him off? Only one way to find out. You take a deep breath. “I don’t want this to be the last time.” He cocks his head to the side,like he’s confused by your answer, but then realisation dawns on him. He looks…embarrassed?

“That was just a stupid thing I said. I…wanted to convince myself that I could end this but-I know I can’t. You’re too…you.”

It doesn’t feel like a line. It doesn’t feel like something a guy says just to get you into bed. It’s not only the way he said it but the genuine look of vulnerability in his eyes that makes you honestly believe him.

“Ok,” you whisper and you take a step closer to him. 

You can feel the heat radiating off him, the way his breath trembles slightly as you close the gap between your bodies. Colson leans down, excruciatingly slow, to caress his lips across yours. One touch of his lips and you’re hooked. You weave your fingers into his hair and gently tug. His moan is so raw and deep that you feel you make climax just from the sound alone. You tug again and the same delicious moan vibrates through his lips. Your lips part and his tongue invades your mouth, waring for control. He pushes your body against the opposite wall and he lifts you so you’re straddling him. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck and the other around your thigh.

“This is going to be hard and fast, ok baby?” he breathes against your lips but all you can do is nod as your insides have turned to goo. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Ok daddy,” you moan softly and his pupils completely blow with desire. 

He lets go of your neck so he can position himself before returning his hand. He slams into you hard and you scream out with such volume, you worry the neighbours will call the cops. Your moans are hard and loud as he pounds into you over and over, each time hard and deeper than the last. You don’t even feel your climax building, it just suddenly bursts through you and you’re a quivering, moaning mess in his arms.

“That’s it back, cum all over daddy’s cock. Mmmm one more time for me baby.” 

Colson’s voice in your ear spurs you on as you ride out your high, only to feel another one building. He sticks his hand between where your bodies collide and begins to work his thumb over your clit. He uses the hand holding your thigh to push you higher on the wall so his dick hits a new angle and you cry out in ecstasy as you squirt all over him. 

“Fuck yes baby, squirt for daddy. Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum baby!” he buries his face in your neck and practically howls as he spills inside of you. You can feel him twitching and flexing inside of you as he fills you.

He holds you there for a few moments, kissing your neck repeatedly, as he comes down from his high. When he places you down gently, he holds you for a few extra seconds to make sure you can stand on your own. He turns back to the water and rinses his body, rubbing your body wash through his hands to lather his body. You stand there and watch him silently, holding your breath, unsure of what he’s going to do or say. You’re holding your breath because you know what comes next. 

You’ve done it a hundred times before. He makes small talk for a minute and then he kisses you goodbye, then you spend the next week, month, however long it is before he’s back at your door, to repair the holes he’s left behind. You cry, you scream, you question your self-worth, your existence and just as you start to feel whole again, he’s back to rip you apart.

“Are you just going to keep watching me or are you going to finish your shower? Our food should be here soon.” and in that moment, you’re whole again.

The food shows up a few minutes after you emerge from your bedroom, dressed in a faded LA Lakers tee and black sweatpants, slightly discoloured white tube socks on your feet. Your hair is wet, piled on top of your head in a messy bun and your makeup is long gone. Colson looks up from the sofa as he sets up all the food and returns his attention back to the food. Then he stops, puts down the container he’s holding and looks back at you, his face completely unreadable.

“What?” you ask, unsure of his reaction. You’re not sure what he’s seeing so you look back to his face, confused.

“I just…you look beautiful,” you feel your cheeks blush a violent red and you’re suddenly very warm. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in sweats and no makeup, that’s all.”

“Oh,” is all you can say as you sit down beside him. 

He hands you your order, how he knew exactly what you liked you’re not sure, and you flick through Netflix looking for something interesting. You settle on a crime movie based on true events and settle in for the…night? You’re trying to not make it seem weird again but it feels weird again. In the span of 6 hours you and Colson have hung on the couch together and watched a movie, he’s slept in your apartment, had shower sex and eaten dinner together. It feels like a relationship, without the label of a relationship. It’s like the phase when two people first start seeing each other and they do all couple things without being a couple. You’re not sure if that makes you happy or completely terrifies you. In the back of your mind though, you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop and you know it’ll hurt a whole lot more when it does.

When the movie ends, Colson and you have finished most of the food and are vegged out on the sofa, flicking through different movies trying to decide what to watch next. He keeps shooting down every movie you suggest so eventually you just shove the remote in his chest and he takes it with a chuckle. He has his hand in your lap and has been lazily drawing shapes for the last hour on your thigh. You feel your legs cramping from having them crossed for so long, so you stretch them out in front of you. Colson looks at your legs from the corner of his eye and frowns as your thigh is now slightly out of reach. He grabs your legs and swings them so they lay across his lap and he continues to draw circles. 

He picks a comedy movie that you’ve never heard of but that he swears is the best movie ever. You can tell after about 5 minutes of it that it’s not your cup of tea but you’re loving listening to Colson laugh. It’s an infectious laugh and you find yourself laughing at his reactions more than the actual movie. Your eyes begin to grow heavy and you find yourself fading in and out of the movie.

You wake up with a startle and your whole living room is covered in darkness. You grab your phone off the coffee table, disorientated. 2:13am. You sit on the sofa and gather your bearings. Colson. You listen for movement or sounds but your apartment is silent. The light in the kitchen is off so you know he’s not in there. You stand slowly, making sure you don’t trip over your own feet in the dark. You feel your way down the hallway and listen for sound.

“Kells?” you call out into the darkness. No response. 

You open your bedroom door and it’s exactly how you left it after your shower. A large candle burning on your bedside table, your dirty clothes lazily overflowing from your hamper and your bed haphazardly made and empty. He left. He didn’t even say goodbye. He just waited until you fell asleep and he walked out. You sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for tears to come but nothing happens. You just sit there alone feeling…numb and…pissed. You know what, fuck him and his bullshit!

You pull your phone out and find the number from the guy at the nightclub. You hit call before you can stop yourself and overthink. It rings for a couple of seconds before someone picks up.

“Hello?” a raspy voice answers and you suddenly remember the time.

“Hi um Jacob, it’s Y/N from last weekend?” you speak so fast, you’re surprised he has a chance to understand you. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. You’ve spoken to guys before. You’ve never asked one out before but you know how to.

“Oh hey! I was wondering if you were going to call. How’s it going?” his voice perks up a bit and you feel a little less guilty for waking him up.

“It’s going…Are you free tomorrow? I mean today, technically.”

“As free as a bird,” he chuckles and you can’t help but smile at his easy going attitude. 

“Do you wanna hang out?” 

“Sure, just text me the place and the time, beautiful.”

You stay on the phone talking for an hour. Jacob is probably the most easy going, uncomplicated person you’ve ever met. He’s from Australia but he’s working in LA as an actor. He laughed when you asked if you might have seen him in anything and you apologised for possibly insulting him but he just laughed it off. The conversation flowed so freely, you didn’t realise how late it had gotten until you yawned.

“I guess I should probably let you go to sleep,” he murmurs softly and you smile. “Don’t forget to text me?”

“Of course! I’ll see you tomorrow Jacob.”

You hang the phone up and flop back on the bed. You smile as you think about your date for tomorrow. You start mentally planning where you might suggest, what you might wear, how you’ll do your makeup and your hair. You’re in full planning mode when your phone dings.

Goodnight beautiful, sweet dreams xYou know you’re smiling like an idiot and you don’t care. If Colson thinks you’re going to spend your time sitting around waiting for him to work out what the hell he wants, he has another thing coming. You’ll make the damn decision for him and he can spend his drunk nights horny and alone.

[kwanisms]

All You Have to Do is Ask - k.jh

summary: your boyfriend ruined dinner

pairing: female reader x yesung

genres/themes: idolverse, established relationship, smut (minors dni), fluff at the end, yesung's real name is Jong-hoon (for those that don't know)

EDIT: I know he changed it (again) to Kang-hoon. I'll change it eventually lol

wc: 1.5k

warnings: explicit language, graphic sex, mentions of alcohol, slight praise kink, some dirty talk, unprotected sex (use protection!), creampie, and I'm including this in the warnings: Yesung is an older idol, so if the idea of having sex with someone near 40 bothers you, don't read this lmao I'm like 9 years younger than him so it doesn't bother me to read or write for older idols

a/n: hi, this is my first SuJu smut so pls be gentle. SUPER JUNIOR IS A 2ND GEN KPOP GROUP AND AS SUCH, THEY ARE THE OLDEST GROUP I'M WRITING FOR. IF THEIR AGES BOTHER YOU, GO SOMEWHERE ELSE LOL I'M ALMOST 30 SO THEY ARENT MUCH OLDER THAN ME AND IF THAT BOTHERS YOU, GET OFF MY BLOG. We don't accept ageism here. this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. gif isnt mine. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

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[21:18]

Ruined. That was the only word for it. Dinner was completely ruined and it was all your boyfriend's fault.

He'd gone out immediately after practice to grab a bottle of wine before coming home to your shared apartment. You had told him you were making your favorite pasta for dinner and were excited for him to try it.

What you hadn't expected was him to come home, bottle of wine in hand only to slam the bottle on the counter and jump you the moment his eyes landed on you.

You should have expected it honestly. You knew your black dress was a little short, barely reaching the middle of your thighs and you can only imagine how frustrated he must have been to immediately start attacking your neck in wet kisses, tongue running over your skin as his hands grabbed the material of your dress in his fists before he pulled you from the stove and turned you against the counter to kiss you properly.

It was only a few moments later he had you bent over the same counter, skirt hiked up, panties ripped off and lying in a mangled mess on the hardwood floor. Your boyfriend stood behind you, one hand on your hip, the other holding your dress in a clenched fist as he thrust into you from behind.

You buried your head in your arm, moans tumbling from your lips as you felt the tip of his cock nudge against your sensitive spot. "Fuck," you heard him curse from behind you, voice barely audible of the sound of skin hitting skin filling the kitchen. "Goddamn, baby," he growled.

You glanced over your shoulder, peering back at Yesung, the sight of him losing himself completely sending more heat to your core and your walls clenched around him, spurring him on. You loved when he gave himself over to pleasure entirely.

The way his brow furrowed, the way he bit his bottom lip as he tried to focus on the quality of his thrusts. It was always quality over quantity with him in everything he did. He preferred to do things right rather than how quickly he could do them.

And that extended into sex with you.

Every angled thrust and slow deep roll of his hips made you see stars from beginning to end. He knew your body. He knew every inch of skin, knew how to tease you, how to draw out the most lewd sounds from you, whether it was with his tongue, his fingers, or his cock.

Your head dropped, a slew of moans and causes falling from your lips as you felt your orgasm approaching. Yesung must have felt it in the way your walls convulsed around him as he continued to pound into you, savoring the sight of himself disappearing inside you.

He hadn't planned on fucking you as soon as he got home. The plan was to take a shower while you finished cooking and then join you for a nice home-cooked meal and a glass of wine but when he saw you in that black dress, the short one that barely covered your ass and left your thighs completely exposed, he just couldn't hold back.

Practice had been particularly rough, tensions high amongst him and the other members as they prepared for their comeback. Heechul had been getting on their nerves, making snarky comments from the side whenever someone got the choreography wrong despite him not even dancing with them.

They had ended practice a little earlier than usual because they were all tired, annoyed, and tense. When Yesung had seen your text that you were making him dinner and asked you to pick up a nice bottle of red, he jumped at the chance to finally unwind after the last few days.

He didn't expect that he'd be fucking his frustrations out but you didn't seem to be complaining with how you moaned out his name, his real name, your hands trying to hold onto something to ground yourself against the onslaught of his hips but the smooth surface of the white marble countertops made that entirely impossible, leaving you to the mercy of his grip.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?" he growled, voice low and husky. You let out a whimper, shaking your head quickly. "N-no," you stammered, your voice shaky. "I swear I d-didn't."

"Why else would you wear something so short?" he asked, giving you a particularly hard thrust, making you cry out. "If not to tease me, then what? Were you expecting someone else to see?" Yesung grunted, ignoring a bead of sweat that rolled down the side of his face. Though he'd cooled off from practice, here he was sweating all over again.

Though he'd much rather be fucking you than stuck in the practice room with eight other men, all as crabby as he was.

"N-no!" you mewled, letting out a gasp when you felt Yesung's hand grab your hair and tug you back, his other hand moving to cup your chin as he leaned over your back. "Did you expect me to bring home the guys?" he murmured in your ear, sending chills down your spine. "N-no, Jong-hoon, I swear," you squeaked out. You heard him hum in your ear, the hand in your hair moving around to the front of your body, pressing against your stomach, pulling you against him as he continued to thrust into you hard and slow.

"So you'd never wear this for any of them?" he asked, holding back a chuckle when you shook your head. "Never. Only f-for you," you whimpered. "You're such a good girl," he cooed, his voice sweet in contrast with the way his hips moved, driving his cock deeper and deeper into your wet cunt.

"Are you gonna be a good little slut and come for me?" he whispered. You nodded quickly. "I'm gonna cum, Hoonie," you moaned, the nickname making him groan as he let go of your chin and wrapped both arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he hastily chased his high.

It only took a few more hard thrusts before you toppled over the edge, coming with a cry of his name, walls squeezing around his cock as his thrusts turned sloppy. "M'gonna come, baby," he mumbled, lips brushing against your skin.

"Then come for me," you answered, voice still shaky. "Come inside me." Yesung let out a moan, urged by your words as he came, releasing inside you and filling you with his thick load. Every time he came inside you, it was always more than when he came alone or when he finished on your skin.

His hips slowly came to a halt as you both tried to catch your breath. "Shit," he cursed, carefully letting go of you. You let yourself drop against the cool surface of the counter, enjoying the cold marble against your hot, sweaty skin. "I'm so sorry," you heard Yesung say and you looked over your shoulder at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Sorry?" You asked. "Sorry for what?"

Yesung looked over at the frying pan on the stove. "For ruining dinner," he answered, his cock still buried inside you. You shook your head, a light chuckle slipping between your lips. "It's fine, honey," you said, pushing yourself up.

Yesung took a step back, slipping out of you as he grabbed one of the decorative kitchen towels and ran it under the faucet for a moment before bringing it to your soaked core. "I also made a mess," he added as he carefully wiped your skin.

"You always make a mess," you answered as he finished and threw the towel in the sink, pulling his boxers and sweats back up, looking up only when you turned to face him. You didn't know how he managed to look so good all the time, nor how it was fair. His flushed face, skin glistening in the overhead kitchen lights, messy hair and those thin framed, round glasses that you loved on him so much.

You reached forward, grabbing him by the waistband of his sweats and pulled him forward, lips finding his as you pulled his body against yours. You pulled back enough to speak. "We can order in," you said softly, gently nudging his nose with yours. "Whatever you want, baby," he answered, kissing the tip of your nose before a cheeky smile broke out across his face. "And change your dress. I might not be able to resist you again later," he added. You shook your head.

"I'm not changing out of this if it gets me fucked like that again," you replied. Yesung let out a loud laugh at your remark. "Baby, if you want to be fucked like that," he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. 

"All you have to do is ask."

═══════════════════════════════════════

[radioactiveswampmonsters]

So I started HRT

I can't believe that's a sentence I get to type?? Going on T always felt like a crazy distant thing to me that I would never get or would be in the distant future (but the distant future was like always still further off forever, there was no getting closer to when the future would be).

Anyway, for my own sake, I think I wanna do like.. a little diary thing? Just something to look back on in the future, see all the progress and everything.

So this really started last Monday. I had a dream that I was going to Planned Parenthood to start HRT, but I got turned away cause they weren't doing that anymore. They gave me places that still were, but I felt embarrassed and discouraged and I didn't take it, and when I woke up, I was... a lot more upset about all that than I think I reasonably should have been. I've had dreams before of like medically transitioning, or like going to appointments and stuff like that so idk why this was different, but it was I guess! Different enough that that, plus I guess a combination of it was already a busy day and I was mad at work, I very spur of the moment just made an appointment to go that Thursday. And finally do it.

Zab was the first person I told like immediately after I booked it and got the confirmation that it was booked, cause of course I had to and their reaction was wonderful, they're my rock honestly through so many things and I'm grateful for them always.

Laz, I told that night and their reaction was also just... I don't think I'll ever forget it, I love them very much and that moment is something I think I'm gonna hold in my heart forever.

I can't stop thinking of Zab telling me repeatedly that they're proud of me, and Laz repeatedly saying finally!!

I love my friends so much.

I think part of what makes this so surreal and strange is like... this was so easy? Like there was no special occasion anything with it, this is just. It's Thursday. It's just a normal Thursday! Like it's not now, February 8th is huge now, but like wow what the fuck. Like I waited til my birthday last year to get my ears pierced cause that was like An Occasion, and something special to do, but this like... it's not revolving around anything! I could just go on my phone and make an appointment with planned parenthood immediately and i did!! It's just another Thursday!! idk something something making special or beauty in the mundane idk I have an appointment thursday that's gonna change my life and it's just another thursday

I keep having butterflies in my stomach throughout the week. Like I'll being going about my day, then I remember, or I get an appointment reminder (by the time it got to thursday there were three and it made me smile so big every time), and I get butterflies and it feels all so surreal again. I think part of me expects that I'll get there and it won't be real? Or they'll maybe turn me away?? I know they won't but I dunno. I've also always been like this though, I've moved so much, and everything is normal and business and usual and then I move and it's still fine and I'm going through the motions then it's not til like I'm THERE that it's like oh fuck I live somewhere else entirely else now. I moved three years ago, and still there's times when I go into my apartment and i'm hit with like a moment of Awareness i guess and I'm suddenly like holy shit I live here. I'm fully responsible for myself and this place, this is My Home. I don't live with my parents anymore, this is me. I make Decisions. So y'know. It's fine

I got asked to take an extra shift at work, thursday is normally the start of my weekend, and I said no I have a doctor's appointment (and that was so fun to say for once and remember hehehe this is happening and it's TOMORROW) and anyway I eventually relented to taking a morning shift - I stressed so many times i had to be out by 11. I know eventually I'll have to tell them what's going on cause like the changes will be Perceived, but also for now I'm enjoying the little secret inside joke with myself

IT'S THURSDAY. IT'S TODAY. It's also an ungodly time, 5 fucking am, it was a mistake to take an extra morning shift. Money good, but I am so very tired and evil. At least it was quiet/normal amounts of busy. And I got out before the lunch rush so I'll take it. There's still so much day ahead of me, it's only 11 am, i have 3 hours til my appointment and I'm Being Very Normal. I also have new glasses now that I think make look kinda like a cartoon character, but it's fun

I'm the most colorfully dressed person here at the planned parenthood. I planned my outfit out so much cause it's like the whole meme of wearing a suit to whatever, except it's my favorite rainbow overalls and I feel like I;m a bit a parody of myself, but also like... idk man it feels right. It's also warm enough I can finally wear flip flops so wins all around

my nurse tech had meow wolf pins on her lanyard which was awesome, im taking this as another sign - one was even the one i had from going to the real unreal opening. they had to stick me twice to draw my blood cause my left arm wouldn't cooperate, but needles i guess just dont bother me as much as they used to which is something im actually really grateful for! idk when that changed or how or why, but im glad i can at least get stuck without having like a full panic or meltdown anymore! ^^^ that's gonna be real helpful, being chill about needles, since I have A REAL PRESCRIPTION NOW HOLY FUCK

i was giving zab updates the whole time and they asked me when my injection appointment was (again i love zab so much, they've been cheering me on this whole time, like that's not a SHOCK, but still oh my god idk what i did to deserve them), and I said i dont think i have one?? my appointment was actually pretty fast and easy - it was a lot of disclaimers and new patient info stuff, but yeah like they just gave me my prescription and a guide on how to inject yourself and said yeah you can go as soon as you pick it up, go at it! and zab described that was ah they're just letting you rawdog that and i thought that was really funny lmao

something about seeing an actual doctor note that says ON PAPER (or app, but whatever it's all doctor's notes) that i have dysphoria is weirdly huge for me?? i dunno why that warmed me, but that had me feeling a way like this isn't just me, this is Real also screaming singing the trans lyrics in mama from mcr after your first hrt appointment is a fun experience 10/10 recommend lol

MY PRESCRIPTION IS READY!!! the place said it wouldn't be til friday after 4, BUT NO! IT'S A WHOLE FOUR HOURS EARLY I HAVE TESTOSTERONE!!!!!!

Fae also now knows cause we were supposed to do our taxes together (like tradition) and I was already late to our video call cause I was picking up MY PRESCRIPTIOOOOON and i didn't wanna keep them waiting anymore so i said fuck it you wanna know a secret? im on t, im doing my t shot now. let's go brother, you and me. (their reaction was also wonderful, i love them very much) the t shot itself was actually fine??? zab had said it wasn't too bad actually, but i was still kinda anxious and worried, but they were right it didn't actually even hurt. i did fuck it up a little tho lmaoooo (jumping to the end, some of it?? came out of it when i pulled the needle out?? so oops on that) but the biggest fuck up was i got the fucking 22 gauge fucking needle stuck on the syringe when i was drawing it into the syringe 🙃🙃i freaked out cause i couldn't get it off, fae was trying to help by looking up what to do, and anyway that's how i also came out that i started hrt to all my local in town friends cause i said hey i fucked up can someone who is strong get it off for me or at least lend me some pliers???? (the good news was a bit after that i did also get it off myself, and the smaller needle came off easy too so it's FINE i think i know what i did wrong, but oh my god this was a roller coaster for baby's first shot oh my GOD)

APPARENTLY I ALSO ACCIDENTALLY CAME OUT TO ZEYDA TOO CAUSE I FORGOT ZEYDA WAS ALSO IN GRIMM'S CHAT FUCK ME it;s...... fine.... i had plans to do it personally over call, zeyda is very cool and kind, but i feel kinda bad now

it is saturday and i feel like i've been hit with a truck. that ?? was a great night of sleep, like i don't sleep well in general, but i slept super great last night, but OH MAN.... do i feel soooo fucking tired and foggy headed. like i feel floaty...? but also weirdly like i have energy in my joints. my joints are jelly and i could walk, but im also so sleepy and cant focus or think like at all? i tried playing some sims, but even that i couldn't do for super long, i am mush

i told my parents about this as well, and that's maybe been the only disappointment so far. their reaction wasn't BAD, but idk i guess i was expecting more? it's fine, my mom and i talked after so like it's genuinely not a problem, but yeah i dunno. just wanted more initial excitement from them too i guess. i had dinner with friends, food helped a little with the whole no energy thing oops of course, but in general it was just nice seeing them

i just keep feeling so heavy and tired. and like i have a headache? but it doesn't like, hurt, it's just like. pressure. like i have a head and i sure can feel it. i know this is normal, im not worried, but it sure is here! im not upset about it tho, it's like oh wow it's tired forever cause im hormones now!!! wow!!! ahhhhh!!!!

it's monday and i feel like i have brain again lol im still tired, but i feel a bit more leveled at least, somewhat more normal. Something I've noticed is my knee isn't having as many problems??? like i can stand and walk and im having less pain in it which is pretty cool

i told the rest of my friends now, and im glad for it, i dont wanna keep dancing around this, i like sharing and wanna yell about all of this! especially with them, i love them all so dearly after i told everyone (after break for waystation, shout out to waystation my beloved) diego told me to watch out for gundams. he basically said boys be shopping and gundams are a siren call for all men so beware. I feel like I'm on cloud 9

tuesday! four days after my first shot. something i've noticed is, at least so far, i've been less angry? work, particularly when it gets busy like it always does, i used to always be quick to getting so annoyed and mad cause i was just so overwhelmed with how busy it was. and like monday, it actually wasn't as busy a day. today it was normal levels of work and everything, and like sure i was still getting annoyed, especially cause like always i just take more calls than others and i KNOW i do, but like... it didn't feel as strong? i was still getting annoyed, but not getting so heated. it felt duller, less heavy than usual. idk if that's just a symptom of having no energy in general or the t itself, but i hope this stays. not being so angry at work everyday would be really nice. i like feeling like i don't have to maybe prepare for having yet another breakdown at work and also some of the annoyance was on me - i started listening to the night circus audiobook today and shock and awe i got annoyed that work was interrupting my book when i was at work - but i mean, even when i was just sitting there, not listening to my book, getting back to back calls... like i handled it a lot better than i usually do. i know it's too early to tell, but seriously can't stress enough how much i hope this is a real actual change, just t leveling out my emotions and mood too please

[mageofseven]

Barbatos x Mammon Relationship Headcannons

This ship is new to me, but definitely has my attention.

Therefore, I want to explore it more by describing how I see them together.

I will form this more or less like my Poly! series posts, but obviously this will just be for these two and no third partner lol

So yeah! Please enjoy~

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

How They Got Together:

In truth, this was an incredibly slow process, so much so that it makes DiaLuci look like a shotgun wedding.

Over the years, the men just grew an admiration for each other.

Barbatos admired Mammon for his effort into things. The second brother may pretend that most things are a hassle and not worth his time, but in truth gives his best attempt at most things he does.

The butler also admired the young demon for how he looked out for his brothers. Not that any of them notice or give him any credit for such nor did Mammon make any true attempts at getting them to do so.

This wasn't so different to how Barb was; this demon was constantly using his skills to help those around him, mainly Lord Diavolo but he has come to the brothers' rescue quite a few times as well.

This man isn't always thanked and certainly is never reward for his efforts, not even after solving the most dire of situations, but he never looks for such anyway; the problem is fixed and the people involved are okay. This is enough for him.

Mammon admired Barbatos for his skills and how effortless he made it all look. In this man's eyes, Barb never struggled, never stressed out, and was always praised by others.

The greed demon wished he could just be a fraction of the person the older demon was; then maybe his own life would be easier.

Neither man is really sure when that admiration turned into full blown love

Though Barbatos recognized it in himself before Mammon did, by like 200 years.

The butler accepted his feelings for what they were...but chose not to do anything about them.

In truth, the professional man felt is was almost inappropriate to have feelings for the second brother, a man technically a part of the governing body of the Devildom that his lord set up

But also...after all of these years, Barbatos has grown to see Lucifer as a friend. The Avatar of Pride was a good, respectable man so the idea of dating one of the younger brothers the oldest cherished so much felt... disrespectful.

Basically, the butler's mindset was that he couldn't change how he felt about the Avatar of Greed, but he could control his actions here on out.

Mammon took a long ass time on figuring out that he was in love with the butler.

This dumbass literally had daydreams of kissing the older demon just to stop and be like....wait.

Am I....?

Naaaah. 🤦‍♀️💕

When he did let it hit him how strong his feelings got for the butler, the younger man grew so fidgety and couldn't even look Barb in the eyes.

All his brothers knew something was up, but the second brother having feelings for Barbatos was the last thing on their minds.

Barb also noticed this change in him though and became curious about it.

Honestly, Barbatos' mind was on the second brother more than ever because of this.

Then it all made a turn one day in a way neither man ever expected.

Diavolo was over at HoL to work on somethings with Lucifer in his office; it was mostly just for a change of pace and very spur of the moment, but Lucifer handled it in stride like always.

So of course, this meant that Barb was here as well.

The butler had left the two other gentleman in order to make them some tea in HoL's kitchen.

That was when he heard it; sobs from up the stairs next to him.

The butler decide to take a bit of a detour and silently ascended the steps

Just to find Mammon at the top, back to the wall that the hallway shared with his room.

The younger man was just so close; he didn't want to bawl his eyes out in the hallway where his brothers could catch him, but he was so upset that his legs gave out on him and so there he was.

The butler froze at the sight, Mammon heavily sobbing with his knees to his chest and fists rotating from pulling his hair to hitting his head as he mumbled 'stupid' over and over again.

Barbatos couldn't walk away; in his mind, it wasn't even an option.

He continued to ascend the stairs, startling the greed demon; he thought it was one of his brothers coming to make fun of him for crying like a little bitch or something

But when his tearful blue eyes locked on to Barb's concerned green orbs, the man was paralyzed where he sat.

The older demon knelt down in front of Mammon, gently smoothing down his hair as he kept eye contact.

"You are not 'stupid' by any means." Barb told him, now using his gloved hand to brush the tears from the greed demon's face. "You are a man with your own issues, same as everyone else, but your intelligence is simply not one of them...no matter what they say."

And just like that, something changed in both men.

That moment of comfort, of giving and getting affection, it was like each man just got the tiniest little taste of what could be for them

And both found it difficult to stay apart any longer.

What they felt for each other was strong and confusing; it simply overwhelmed them both.

This is why they decided not to tell others about their relationship yet; both wanted to understand their feelings, but also wanted to see if their relationship could ever last.

Dynamics:

The secrecy never really died down for the couple.

Even when they grow to understand their emotions on a deeper level and see that they're both in this relationship for the long haul, their relationship stays a secret.

Mammon has a lot of insecurities and fears, mainly about what his younger brothers will say when they find out

And Barb himself was a pretty private person so he had no qualms with keeping things quiet for Mammon's sake.

The two are really different, not just with their personalities, but even in the the ways they express love and feel the most loved.

Mammon is big on physical touch. Any private moment he can get with his boyfriend, he needs the man to give him physical affection and words of affirmation.

Barbatos, very unsurprisingly, is an acts of service sort of guy and sadly (for him bc of his 24/7 job) quality time is very important.

The two grow to understand each other well though and always know what the other needs.

Mammon can be a little slow at times, but this is something Barb has actually grown to be amused with; how long till his boyfriend will get the hint?

Still, some parts can be difficult; Mammon is clingy while Barbatos is independent. Sometimes the younger demon can get bad thoughts in his head that the cool and composed butler doesn't really care about him as much he thought.

Barbatos will always chase away those bad thoughts though; he may not feel the need to be glued to his boyfriend all day, but he still loves the other man deeply and enjoys his company.

The two spend most of their time together on Sunday since it's Barb's only day off (a day off that Diavolo had to force on him hundreds of years ago lol).

Though some days it feels less like a day off and more like an 'on call' day, meaning some shit may go wrong at the castle and the butler may have to cancel their plans in order to fix whatever issues have occurred.

With Barb's job and the secrecy of their relationship, things can be difficult for the couple

But they love each other so strongly that they'd both rather have this than not be together at all.

Overall, Barbatos is a big comfort to Mammon and slowly teaches him to love himself despite his brothers' mean words

And Mammon provides some color to the monotony of Barb's life, something the butler tries to pretend he's comfortable with, but in truth makes life feel quite stale to him.

[djemsostylist]

Rome, Part 2a: A History Desecrated

Okay, so the title is a little dramatic, but honestly, not that inaccurate. Rome is accurate the way Kingdome of Heaven is accurate--the major events happen, though not in the same way or for the same reasons or even always with the same people as they did historically.

Rome assumes, to it's detriment, that the reader has read about the Roman Empire, and knows what the hell is going on. It also assumes that building any sort of relationship between any of the characters--all of whom had, rather famously, deep, abiding connections that stretched back 30+ years before the events of Rome, is utterly unnecessary. These people had large, extended families, multiple children, relationships with each other and with other, smaller players, who were nevertheless important.

We'll start with the characters I think, to keep things simple. The show focuses on the historical characters of Caesar, Marc Antony, Pompey, Cicero, Brutus, Cato, Cassius (a more minor character), as well as Servilia, Atia, Octavian, and Octavia.

The characters, by and large, bear little to no resemblance to their historical counterparts. Though of course there is always room for interpretation (and bearing in mind that I am hardly an expert in the field), the characters feel less like actual people who once lived and more like clichés. Caesar here is mostly exceedingly British--stiff upper lip, inscrutable, devoid of the charisma and charm that made him so successful. The Caesar of the HBO is not a man who could shame an army into leaving off a rebellion merely by giving them what they wanted. In fact, this Caesar is so unremarkable, that I don't even really have much more to say about him. He exists. He is accompanied mostly by Mark Antony, who here, save Pompey, is probably the closest to his historical counterpart, save for being significantly stupider. This Antony gets no real moments to shine, as most of his savvy moves are preempted by bullying from Atia (who here plays his mistress--his first wife and children do not exist). They even take away his speech at Caesar's funeral--he is entirely portrayed as oafish, boorish, and horny.

Pompey is probably the most accurate, although it's honestly not hard to portray a sad old man at the end of his story, spurred on mostly by the Senate, which is pretty much how he is portrayed here. Cicero is played as a mostly sputtering sad sack (who, like Antony, has no family), and he borders on whiny and weenyish in a way that feels both cliched and grating. Brutus is fine, I suppose, if uninspiring--he exists mostly to be used, much like Antony--his only real convictions occur when someone makes his tummy hurt. Which, while perhaps not wholly inaccurate, just reads like he is a petulant child, driven by the whims of others. The other two anti-caesarians here are Cassius, who is much like Brutus--fine, if uninspiring, and Cato, who here is Cato the Elder, who plays the same character the actor played in the movie Hot Fuzz, so I feel like that says everything really.

If the men are mostly boring clichés with a single, overexaggerated trait, the women are SO. MUCH. WORSE. Atia, here a main character is vain, selfish, cruel, manipulative and self-serving. While the historical Atia is mostly a background player, here, Atia is front and center as she seems to be multiple historical ladies rolled into one (bc Rome seems allergic to having both large families and multiple female characters of the same generation). Servilia, a major secondary character in the show, is vain, selfish, cruel, manipulative, and self-serving. (Are we sensing a theme?) Caesar's third wife exists in approximately 3.5 scenes, but in the moments we see her she is vain, selfish, cruel, manipulative, and, you guessed it, self-serving. Octavia then, is a breath of fresh air! In her role she is portrayed as shallow, drippy, whiny, spineless, and useless, which is a honestly a refreshing change. This Octavia is incredibly stupid, easily manipulated (she has an affair with Servilia who convinces her to sleep with Octavian to pry info out of him, I'm not making this up), and prone to fits of crying and teenagerish whining. Cleopatra then, almost doesn't bear mentioning, but the drugged out, baby voiced, sex pest version somehow makes the other women almost seem to be treated respectfully by comparison. The women of this show, far from caring anything about the republic, society, or the men they should love and support, instead are absorbed in a constant series of catfights and backstabbing, and the plots resemble nothing so much as a Real Housewives of Rome show. The women who are treated the best are the two lowerclass women, the wives of our "heroes", both of whom are only married to their husbands through fear and coercion, and who live in fear of violence and the threat of death, which somehow feels grosser to me than if they were given the same treatment as the other women.

Octavian and his merry band are headscratchers--we spend the entirety of the first season with Octavian, whose only real friend is Titus Pullo (a man hired by his mother) and perhaps the sister he inexplicably sleeps with, only for the second season to start and the narrative to helpfully inform us that he actually has TWO super close friends who we have never heard of before, and oh here they are. The question of when he had time to make and meet these friends is bizarre, but both Agrippa and Maecenas here suffer from the same cliché disease the rest of the men suffer from, which leaves Agrippa some sort of overly saccharine cinnamon roll and Maecenas a bored trust fund baby with slightly strange inclinations. Octavian, after spending three months becoming an entirely different person, remains "smart" in the way writers think smart people work, meaning he knows things he shouldn't, is kind of a freak, and never smiles.

But perhaps the most egregious bit about the historical characters of Rome is the fact that none of them have any sort of relationship at all to each other, let alone their families. The only married couple with children we see on the show is Pompey and his post-Julia wife--literally NO ONE else is married or has kids. At all. Cicero dies alone with only his slave, Servilia dies alone with only her slave, Brutus and Cassius die alone with only their slaves, Atia doesn't die and I guess she does have children, but neither of her children have children (incredibly strange considering Octavia was mother to like, 10 children, biologically, foster, step--you name it), and Antony dies with only two children (his twins with Cleopatra, as here he does not have any children prior, since he was never married to his first wife and Octavia's ONLY CHILD (a girl, named Antonia) is actually Agrippa's.) Half of the Julio-Claudian dynasty just doesn't exist in this Rome.

And neither do any prior relationships. Caesar and Brutus have like, exactly two scenes together, and Caesar and Cicero's scenes are mostly Caesar being a dick and Cicero blubbering. There is no indication that any of these people were friends, had worked together, had love, respect or ANYTHING. The Civil War has basically no feeling to it, because why should it? These people mean nothing to each other, so who cares who lives or who dies?

While I'm generally annoyed at modern interpretations of historical characters, here it feels almost as if the writers had some personal vendetta against them, particularly the women. The way in which the characters are written feels pointed, although I'm hard pressed to figure out what exactly they want us to see. But Rome feels smaller, somehow, and less grand, and more like a story we've seen before, a thousand times, and less the start of one of the most famous empires the world has ever known.

[northwest-cryptid]

So this is a personal little rant/vent about something that happened recently. One thing about general etiquette that I think has been lost, and I wish wasn't; is the concept of consent outside of sexual acts.

A friend of mine at work thought my jacket was cool and sort of lightly grabbed my shoulder to get a better look at it and then immediately removed himself to remark "oh shit my bad, sorry to touch you without permission." It didn't bother me or anything but I was sort of taken aback by it because it was so weird to me to see/hear someone actually care about something like that after living a life of being such a people pleaser that my feelings on such things don't seem to matter.

See it's not a huge secret that I'm a casual streamer, and as such I have friends and acquaintances who stream as well. It really bothered me that at one point I was TOLD, not asked; but TOLD that a friend of mine and I were to participate in a collab the following day when.

A. My friend did not have the time off from work, and did not play the game in question to begin with.

and B. I didn't have the time nor interest in playing such game at the moment, as I didn't really get along well with some of the people in the collab.

So I sort of brought that up and I was told basically "oh we wanted 4 people." Which made my friend and I realize we were literally just last second filler. We weren't valued as individuals, we were "assigned" to the collab because they thought we had the game and thought we were free and thought we wouldn't care about being thrown into a collab last minute.

For the record the person in charge of the collab actually took that information rather well, and we've collabed since with them properly asking me "would you like to collab for [game] on [day] around [time]?" Which I have so much respect for, because yes it's okay to make mistakes as long as you actually try to grow from them. It also helps that the host and I were proper friends before this incident; and continue to actually be friends (of some years now) after the incident.

People don't know how to, or just won't ask for consent on things they think don't require it. Despite the fact that asking anyone to do anything honestly requires some level of consent.

Now don't get me wrong I'm not trying to sound like some extremist. I'm not going to ask the barista if they mind making me a drink; by working the job they're consenting to do the duties of that job, they are ultimately in control of their actions and could quit at any time without any level of personal backlash from me as a consumer of the product they prepare. However in a social situation consent is really important and often boils down to just changing your words a little.

At work I'm often ASKED "would you mind handling this?" or "Can I get you to run and do that for me?" Which makes a big difference when our regional manager always words things as "Do this, do that. You need to get this done."

So what spurred all of this? Well recently my friend who was in charge of that collab was having a collab with the other individual from that original collab; which is great, and I thought maybe this would be a cool time to sort of be friendly and maybe sort of fix that burnt bridge a little. So I tried talking in chat before, not my friend; but the other individual literally said "Get in here, Cryptid." To which my good friend, and host; had to tell them "Cryptid's got people visiting right now" and their response was simply "oh that's homophobic"

The whole reason this sort of "sent me" so to speak is because it felt like someone who hardly knows me, and didn't seem to enjoy my company last time we spent time together; and who doesn't value my time was demanding my time over me getting to finally spend time with friends who I've known for YEARS and hardly ever get to see in person. While my friend was very understanding and even told me "hey say hi to [mutual friend] for me!" This individual who hardly knows me demanded I join the collab, and was audibly upset when those demands could not be met due to my own self interest.

Don't act like that, it's not funny; it's not a good look. It makes you look extremely self entitled and VERY arrogant. It's rough because I know they are a friend of my friend and I am desperately trying to get along with them, but their social etiquette is so lacking that every time I try to spend time with them I come away from it feeling annoyed and bothered by a general lack of being respected as a human being.

[iro-rautatiski]

The History of Ruin's Heir

What's "Ruin's Heir"?

Ruin's Heir is a fantasy comic, published at ComicFury by me.

After the gateway to the realm of death has been shattered, the balance of the world has been disturbed, slowly being eaten away by the deadly matter know as "the ruin". Vervain, a young wolf, finds that he has a deep connection to the Grimgrove and its ruin. In order to prevent the inevitable, he must find his True Name.

First page was published 9th April 2023, but the history of this story goes way back to the year 2011. I have now written some of it down, mostly for myself, but if you have found yourself curious and want to give it a read, I welcome you with warmth.

Nemorosa and Vervain

2011 - Parantajan oppipoika

The beginning

At this point in my life I had spent about three years watching YouTube animated series about dogs.

I also did create my own series, several, even before this one, but never published those anywhere, and sadly I do not have them anymore. 2010 December I got my very first own computer, and I got absolutely hog-wild with the new-found freedom of interwebs.

At the age of 12, I finally created my very own YouTube account.

I of course had to create my very own dog (or in this case, wolf) series. I pulled out my trusty MsPaint, and started to work without too much thought about the plot, or anything.

Just wanted to do something, probably came up with the designs at the spur of the moment too.

Juniper and Vervain

The series was called Parantajan oppipoika, until I changed the name to Apprentice, thinking that... English is cool? I don't think though that I ever succesfully released an episode with the new name, so Apprentice didn't really stick. So Parantajan oppipoika it is.

The series had 2 finished apisode, third one was left unfinished.

Which sounds kinda underwhelming. But despite its short visit at the time, Parantajan oppipoika would leave a mark in my heart that was waiting for its next opportunity to shine.

Story

Vervain, young member of the wolf pack, dreams nothing more than being a healer's apprentice. When the day comes that the pack's healer, Clover, chooses her apperentice, Vervain is very excited and hopeful about the end result. But he is left dissapointed, when instead of him, his friend Dandelion is chosen. Some days after the ceremony, Vervain notices that Dandelion seems very tired and absent, barely responding when he asks her anything. Without his knowledge, Dandelion has been suffering from the nightmarish visions she started to get after she was appointed as a healer's apprentice. Next evening, Vervain follows a raven, who guides him to find Dandelion at the forest, killed by a bear. Clover blaming herself, believes this was a sign that her decision was a mistake, and appoints Vervain as her new apprentice.

Poor Dandelion...

Inspirations

At the time, I have just got into Warrior Cats, and it was also very clear with Parantajan oppipoika. Pack's structure, nature themed names, and concept of the healer all came from there. I also remember that Vervain's name was taken straight from Watership Down, from the character with the same name.

Videos etc.

Not much material is left from this time, which is a big shame for me personally, as I would love to see the first 2 episodes again.

Though, some materials are still intact, and I'll cherish them.

The first opening of Parantajan oppipoika.

To this very day I still associate this song to Ruin's Heir. Kinda hoping that someday I could animate something to it...

Unfinished "new" opening

I remember being very, very proud of this one. And honestly, good for you, 12-13 years old Iro, you indeed did good. I think the development between these two openings are visible already.

Unfinished episode 3

(with a placeholder music, I think the original had The Lion King music), pretty short, but oh... the relic....

I think this is all I have to say about the first version of this story, for now.

Hassireeee, Veervain

2013 - Hour of the Wolf

The resurrection

Parantajan oppipoika went to the slumber for time being, and I didn't finish episode 3. If I remember right, I didn't do much with these characters after cancelling the series.

But, in 2013 they returned. I started to work on the reboot, called "Hour of the Wolf"

I literally forgot it was called that. Anyways.

I must admit that I don't remember much specifics from this era, I found an outline for the planned episodes so nevermind about not remembering.

Once again, I was planning on making an animated series, but this time with less success than before. Not a single episode were finished.

But looking at the outline, there was a plan for 16 episodes in total.

Some aspects from 2011 version were kept, but some were also dropped. Vervain didn't want to be a healer anymore, and whole concept of healers seemed to be absent from this version in general. Instead story now focused more on the relationship between Vervain ja Raven, and also war that our main pack, Tyrmäinen, was having with "Bonefangs" pack.

Even though a lot has changed since this version of the story, it did an important groundwork for its future. A lot characters that exits nowadays, were created back then. Even some plot points, though with drastic changes, have stayed in some form.

Sedum and Bracken

Goldenrod, Bracken, Nuphar (down), Sedum, Woundwort, and Majalis

Characters

Sedum and Bracken were old faces from the 2011, but most of the pack's youngsters were created 2013. Nuphar, Pillwort, and Majalis are still part of the cast today. Twins Woundwort and Golderod were part of the story for a long time before being cut 2022.

Vervain and Raven

Vervain bond with ravens was now strengthened. Especially with this one raven, who was also his father's old Guardian, and only thing that the villain, Elder, was truly afraid of. Raven's characterization, and purpose for the story has changed several times after this, but presence of the Raven has been kept strong ever since.

Story

After the death of Dandelion, Vervain finds an injured wolf named Juniper. She is taken in, and she warns the pack about approaching rival pack, Bonefangs, who she also was part of formerly. After the presence of bonefangs has been made known, security measures are tightened, and atmosphere in the pack gets heavy. At the same time, Vervain meets Raven, who seems to be his, and unknowingly to him, his deceased father's Guardian. War between the two wolf packs goes on, until tragedy strikes the pack, and it's rumored that among them there's a traitor…

Elder, Vervain, and Raven

As I'm reading this outline now, I'm thinking "damn, I really did read Harry Potter back then didn't I?"

Some of the plotlines were almost straight from there...

Videos

Unfinished opening

Unfinished episode (I think)

Didn't get far, but cool.

2015 - Kaarnen Herra

The new era

I still quite like this name I had. It's translated "Lord of the Raven", and I pretty much got it from Lord of the Rings. Good naming technique I would say.

Apparently I started to do reboots every two years.

Once again, I wanted to make a youtube animated series. Because I never learn.

Though this time I learned a little bit, and opted out from making a fully animated series, and instead used minimal amount of pictures. Episode 1 was still left unfinished, because the workload still didn't fit me.

Nemorosa and Vervain

This is probably when this story started to have more online presence. I'm still surprised when people leave a comment somewhere and actually know Vervain's name off the bat.

Even thought this is probably the point where magic wolves' hold over my brain capacity got stronger than ever before, it's also the era where I feel I made my biggest mistake and regret with this story. It was when I put feathers on their heads, unknowingly enforcing racist stereotypes about native people.

I always struggled to find justification lore-wise for why they even had those, so when I finally realized and decided that this whole thing actually comes from a very harmful place, and should be removed, I myself felt very relieved.

This is the time in my life I did a lot drawings and videos about Kaarnen Herra, but I can't say that I would feel comfortable sharing all of it so freely nowadays.

Story

Life at Tyrmänkä's pack has been ever so peaceful, until a weird strom rises. Vervain notices that this has made his friend Dandelion restless, and when he sees that she has went to the forest alone, he follows. Vervain stumbles on to the scene, when Dandelion is trying to bind down an angered spirit, costing her life. Spell however has got its hold on Vervain too, and slowly it rips more and more away his life. One way to save his own life would be to void the spell and release the spirit, but that would possibly cost his pack's life if done so. Luckily, helpful Raven and a stoat named Portimo wants to help him to find another way to save himself...

Vervain and Bracken

Characters

This version brought many new characters, but for this I wanted to showcase these two selectet characters, which I feel have been more influential. Portimo and Tormentil.

Tormentil and Portimo

Portimo

At first there was supposed to be three stoats, capable of merging into one big stoat monster, but at some point, three turned into just one character. (Stoat monster was however apparently kept at least some time after this, for some reason.)

I can't remember where the idea of having a villanous small stoat came from, but I thank the past me of this. Nowadays it's hard to think of this story without Portimo.

Portimo changed a lot tings about the plot, and was even some sort of main villain of the series. Kuilunka, formerly Bonefangs, then became more sympathetic, although still antagonistics.

His name by the way is just a old finnish name for stoats. So his name is just Stoat 👍

Tormentil

Tormentil is a mix of old and new, as her intial inspiration came way back from 2011, from Parantajan oppipoika.

Back then Elder (who was named Vomitflower back then.... I have found no proof that such flower exists, but it might be inspired by the plant called ipecacuanha).

Anyways, Elder/Vomitflower had a sidekick, whose trope was "even more sadistic than the boss". Back then her name was Cactus-spike.

Cactus-spike got a massive overhaul designwise, and a new name, since I didn't want these wolves to know what cacti are. She pretty much became a new character, but fullfilling the same initial role as previously.

Her role also grew a lot from what I originally planned, mostly because I got a such positive feedback from her, and I wanted to utilize her potential more.

Videos

Opening

Unfinished episode 1

2019 - Goodbye animation

Finally I came to the conclusion that I can't work on this story in form of animation, and instead decided to try dip myself back into the wolrd of comics.

And by back I mean that I used to do a lot comics when I was 7-12 years old, but stopped working on those after getting more into doing animations instead.

There were actually two tries, before I started to publish pages publicly. First one I treated more like a test from the beginning, to see how it feels to work on the comic.

Page 1. Ohto Page 2. Nemorosa and Vervain

End result was: It felt pretty nice. My confidence towards this new approach grew, and decided that this would be something I wanted to try in the long run.

I stopped this first run after 12 pages, reworked some aspects of the story, and started to work on the real deal.

But I clearly still had some things to learn....

2020 - Setback

The plot got very big changes, with the threat of the apocalypse looming over the characters now. As I wanted to strengthen to conflict within the world, and make it affect the characters.

With these new additions, some new characters were also brought in (or old ones totally reworked).

Everhalo and Ruinkeeper

New characters

Raven's character got a total overhaul. Now instead of being Vervain's companion, she became the Spirit of death, and was named Ruinkeeper.

This change also later contributed to why story's name was renamed Ruin's Heir (or the finnish name, Kalman lapsi). As I felt that no one would feel any lordiness over this Raven anymore, so I felt that it didn't fit anymore.

With the Spirit of death, there was also added Spirit of life, Everhalo. Who seems to have his own agenda in the grand scheme of things.

_

I worked on the first chapter, year had passed already and the chapter was close to the finish line.

I had done 34 pages, but finishing the last 7 pages felt too much.

Tormentil, Elder, and Ruinkeeper

I believe that I did a mistake in complicating the backgrounds for the actual comic. Instead of doing a lined work like I did back in my first version, I tried to give it more painted look. So now it didn't feel so good to do anymore, and I felt like I had to do something differend...

So I did what you're always told to not to do when working on comics, and started over.

2022- Ruin's Heir

This is the version I finally started to publish to ComicFury.

The scene did had some chages, but the basic idea was kept same. Tormentil needs to kill Ruinkeeper.

Some pages were reused, and the color palette kept same.

Tormentil, Elder, and Ruinkeeper

I do count this and the previous version of chapter 1 in the same era, as the actual story has no big changes made between these.

Two characters had redesigns though, Elder and Vervain

Elder (old and new)

Vervain

Changing Vervain's design especially felt like I was about to do a crime. But just how with the name change, I just felt that his older design didn't work with his character anymore. Even though I had grown very attached to it.

Luckily, I can say that I'm now quite happy with his design.

The End

At this very moment I'm writing this paragraph, I'm working on the chapter two, with the last six pages work in progress. So far my feelings toward making this comic has been very positive, and it's one of the rays of joy that I have at the moment.

I admit it's one my fears that what if someday I'm not able to work on it anymore? But I guess it's no use to worry too much about the future, while still having this very moment at the hand.

Will I change my mind about this comic in two years? Could be plausible, when looking at my past set records of reboot after reboots. But it's okay, and I'm trying to follow my principle, which pretty much is "follow your heart, it's yours after all".