#i love the intimacy in acknowledging another

[noxtivagus]

><

[mid-nightowl]

…can i ask you to share more of your thoughts on fem!jaytim vibes

hi cory!!!! yes, yes i can :) <3

most of my thoughts come from this lil snippet and my tags.

my thoughts on fem!jaytim can be boiled down to this line: “Her successor fascinates her. She kind of wants to let him dissect her, little freak that he is.” 

like tim is a freak who would absolutely want to dissect and take jaye apart piece by piece just to get to the bottom of whatever the hell is wrong with her (obsessive) and jaye would let him bc she wants to know what the hell is wrong with him (affectionate). 

It’s almost a scientist and their never-ending experiment, but not quite?

like the dissection, its the act, the intimacy, the trust in being vulnerable and completely open on the table for them to see, a show and a sight but not a performance, it's the ‘i’m going to take you apart piece by piece, not to fix you or change you, but just to understand you’, and 'i’m going to get my hands dirty and dig into you, and it can be voluntarily or not, it can be with anesthesia or nothing but im going to know you whether you like it or not,' paired with 'you are going to have to cut me open to get to know me, it has to be cold and violent, it has to be artful and methodological.'

but jaye started off with ‘i want to destroy you, take you to the brink, the edge of despair and fury and hatred and let you go without any catharsis,’ kind of like capturing a wild animal, testing on it, and then releasing it back into the wild with a tag to see what it will do after being changed (will it return back to it’s normal routine or will it come back for more?)

and then tim kept coming back. and that's when jaye is like alright yeah, i'll let you rip me open and give me a name (or maybe give me back my name?) and tim does, and he does it carefully, adoringly, obsessively.

and i think tim’s obsessive focus, paired with the idea of the knife/scalpel = love, is what jaye would respond to best. she was raised in violence, and probably thinks that fighting and pain is caring and love, AND she’s never been a priority in anyone’s life. so for tim to obsess and know her in ways that no one else has before (or have even bothered) is captivating, exciting, and absolutely mind-boggling, and i think jaye would get possessive, like ‘this robin, this little freak is mine.'

i, hmmm. running out of coherent thoughts after this, so um i guess enjoy? <3

[suashii]

୨♡୧ SWEET NOTHINGS — aftercare with the hq boys.

featuring. miya osamu, suna rintaro, ushijima wakatoshi, sakusa kiyoomi

warnings. f!reader, no explicit smut (still, mdni), food (not used sexually), implied creampie, bathing together, tons of after-sex intimacy. all characters written 18+.

₊˚ପ⊹ MIYA OSAMU

osamu is a firm believer that the best thing one can do for their body after any strenuous activity, including sex, is to replenish it with food before allowing it to rest. he feeds you often but something feels different about doing the same thing only after sex. it makes for a much more intimate scene, he thinks, being able to share food with his lover after being so vulnerable with each other. it’s yet another way of showing his love for you.

• • •

“what’s on today’s menu?” you ask, sitting up as osamu returns from his quick venture to the kitchen. from behind his back, he reveals the carton of strawberries the two of you picked out from the market this morning. he gently shakes the container, “these sound good?”

you nod enthusiastically, waving him over to join you in bed. his feet carry him to the mattress and he plops down next to you with a comfortable sigh. you watch patiently as he pops open the plastic, fingers hovering above the fruit in search of the best of the batch. he picks the prettiest one he can find and holds the berry out to you, the palm of his other hand facing up beneath the first to serve as a sort of plate. “say ‘ah,’” he opens his mouth, hoping you’ll do the same.

a smile breaks out across your face before you follow his lead and open your mouth to take a bite. you hum as your cheeks tingle and the tartness of the fruit explodes on your tongue. osamu chuckles at your innocent reaction. it takes a moment before he becomes aware of the red-tinted juice dripping down his fingers. he pops them into his mouth before the trail of liquid can travel any farther, smiling around them as you happily bounce up and down on the bed.

₊˚ପ⊹ SUNA RINTARO

he’s never been one to take anything in life too seriously, but you’re one of the few exceptions to his carefree and jovial approach to living. sex with suna is rarely demanding but always passionate. even though he isn’t a particularly rough lover, rintaro acknowledges that you deserve some tending to after making love. in an attempt to keep the mood light, he keeps up his silly antics even while he’s taking care of you.

• • •

“nice game, mvp,” suna quips as he hands you the cold bottle of water he just grabbed from the fridge. a cheeky grin pulls at his lips upon seeing the way your eyebrows furrow while you take a swig of the beverage. you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before sarcastically responding, “your lame charm never fails to make me swoon.”

“you love it,” he argues, taking a seat on the edge of bed the beside you. you turn to him to find a pair of dull yellow eyes already staring back at you. suna smiles before leaning forward to cup your cheek and slot his lips against yours. the kiss is soft and slow, a perfect culmination to an exhausting night. despite his inability to take most things seriously, moments like these are all you need to know that, deep down, suna really cares about you. he pulls away with another of his signature smiles, his thumb and index finger pinching your cheek. “ready to hit the showers?”

you scoff, playfully slapping his hand away. “i can’t believe i let you have sex with me.”

₊˚ପ⊹ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

his touch is gentle and tender; it drastically differs from how he was handling you only moments ago. even though the two versions of wakatoshi are stark contrasts of each other, you’re more than familiar with the soft side of him that emerges after the both of you are worn out and sticky with each other’s cum. words of praise accompany every calculated stroke of the damp, warm washcloth he uses to clean you up.

• • •

“i wasn’t too rough, was i?” ushijima asks as he makes his way back to where you lie, returning from grabbing a few things from the bathroom. he settles on the mattress beside you with a couple of damped towels. dark olive eyes fall on you and you shake your head to gesture that you’re fine.

he nods, taking one of the folded cloths to pat away the sweat from your forehead. nimble fingers brush away any stray strands of hair sticking to your face and you lean into the warmth of his touch. a small smile graces his lips upon seeing how content you are. as much as he’d love to spend the rest of the night with you in his arms, he has to finish getting you cleaned up.

reluctantly, wakatoshi pulls his hand away and reaches for another clean rag. he uses this one to carefully wipe any of the sticky release off of your thighs. you twitch at the contact, still sensitive from your previous activities. he’s told you many times before, but ushijima will never tire saying it. “you did so well, pretty girl.”

₊˚ପ⊹ SAKUSA KIYOOMI

the first thing he does as soon as you both finish is ask how you’re feeling; if you’re alright. as pleasurable as sex is, it can be just as fatiguing. no matter your answer, sakusa’s routine rarely strays; there’s always a warm bath with essential oils waiting for you on nights when the two of you end up naked and tangled in each other’s arms. his ultimate goal is to help you wind down and assure that you’re comfortable.

• • •

“feeling okay?” sakusa’s voice, albeit fairly quiet, startles you. the soft rumble you feel transfer from his chest to your back is somehow simultaneously surprising and comforting. it wasn’t difficult to begin to drift off in the tub filled with warm, bubbly water, the scent of lavender wafting throughout the steamy air.

you hum in satisfaction, letting your eyelids flutter closed once more. you won’t fall asleep this time. “better than okay.”

kiyoomi can hear the exhaustion lingering in your voice. he can feel you melting into it under the pads of his fingers as he massages the supple skin of your thighs. he finished washing you up a few minutes ago but you looked so tranquil that he couldn’t find it in him to move you. you’ll have to get out soon if you don’t want your skin to grow pruney, but sakusa decides to warrant you and himself a little longer in your peaceful bubble.

strong arms pull you closer into his chest, sending a ripple throughout the water. he rests his chin on your shoulder, pressing a light kiss to the pulse on your throat. you giggle, wet hand breaking the surface to cradle the side of his face. “perfect,” you whisper.

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

[milksnake-tea]

Hi hi hii!

May I have 2, 4, and 7 with Aventurine for the ask game? Have a nice day!

This man has a strong chokehold on me-

- 🪽

nah bro i totally get you that damn blonde im telling you .... him and his little >:3 are permanently etched into my brain .... THANKS FOR THE ASK !!! <3

2. What do you think their love language is?

My first thought was initially words of affirmation or acts of service, but now that I'm thinking about it, I think Aventurine would be a sucker for physical touch. The thing is, I personally believe that Aventurine is heavily touched starved, and a huge part of it is self-inflicted. There have been many times where he wanted to hold your hand, or lean onto your shoulder, or just have his hair played with, but he holds himself back because 1.) it's unprofessional and 2.) does he really want to deal with the implications of his actions? Even with friends (or the closest things he has to friends), he wants to be physically close to them, but he doesn't let himself be. The first time you held his hand, he stiffened like a block of wood. When you hugged him, and held him in his arms, he didn't know how to react - but it wasn't long until he closed his eyes and let himself slump against you.

4. What's an unpopular opinion you have?

i cant believe i have to say this BUT HE IS NOT A WHORE !!!!! Can he be clingy? Yes !! Can he be intentionally irritating and annoying? Yes !!! Can he come across as flirty? ABSOLUTELY. But what he isn't is someone who gives himself away at the drop of a hat. Intimacy and companionship, whether platonic or romantic, is something he desires, absolutely. But that doesn't mean he'll give it to just anyone. He has to respect you, he has to like you, he has to know you inside and out to ensure that you won't take advantage of his vulnerability.

I acknowledge that Aventurine often invites people to stab him in the back, but he does it with the prior knowledge that they'd likely do it, so he isn't surprised about it. But when it comes to true companions, not the "friends" he collects like chips, he needs to be able to trust you in all of your entirety. Yes, he has a very low view of himself, but it's not to the degree where he'd willingly use his body in that way to get what he wants.

7. What kind of person do you think Aventurine wants in a relationship?

The real question is whether or not he'll allow himself the liberty of getting into a relationship in the first place. But if I'm going to be honest, I see Aventurine as someone who values honesty and self-reliance, and admires those who are true to themselves and their ideals despite it all (example: Topaz and Dr. Ratio, both of whom he respects and admires as colleagues). So when it comes to being in a relationship, he doesn't want to stress himself out with the mind games; banter, sure, but he doesn't need another person to tip toe around.

Aventurine would want someone who isn't afraid to ask for what they want, or tell him off when he needs to be, yet is genuine, kind and earnest. He also would want someone who could at least take care of themself - as harsh as it sounds, he can't always be there to protect you, and he needs to know that you'll be okay even if he isn't there (also because he finds strength, both intellectual and physical, to be pretty attractive).

It's kind of sad, though. The kind of people Aventurine finds himself attracted to are often the type who end up disliking him.

2k follower event if you want to participate !!!

[pizzaapeteer]

FU in my head part 2

Part 1 here Pairing Mattheo Riddle x fem reader

Summary Unable to forget Mattheo's longing gaze after potions, your mind lingers on the meaning behind it. When he approaches you later that night, you're left unaware of his intentions and how this would play them out.

Warnings Oral (male receiving), female orgasm, semi-public sex, facefucking, swearing, slight degrading, sadistic thoughts, hair pulling, dom/sub dynamics.

Word count 2400

a/n: I was inspired by this lovely fic written by @mrsriddlenott

And big thank you to @finalgirllx for the amazing edit of Mattheo 💜

Darkness lurks near, flames flickering in the wind, their shadows illuminating on the old stone walls. The disappearance of time was visible with the passing of chattering students on their way to dinner. Making your way across the courtyard, your skin pricked with a frantic charge, your frustration growing in need of a release. 

The combination of your brimming timetable and interactions with friends had left you without a moment to yourself. Despite your aching core, you sigh in relief that you hadn't seen Mattheo since potions. You weren't sure your body could handle witnessing the attractive boy again. Just the recollection of Mattheo's amused smirk had your cheeks tinting. 

Troubling thoughts formed within that perhaps you had imagined it all. Worry pulled in your chest, fear that your fantasies were becoming more visual. Overwhelmed, you quicken your pace hoping to retreat to your dorm, but Mattheo's figure emerging halts you. You jump to conceal yourself behind a nearby pillar, impatiently waiting for him to depart. Unable to resist, you peak from behind the pillar, stalking his every move fervidly. Your eyes are drawn to him as he strides confidently down the corridor. Mentally groaning, you bite your lip. How can someone walking be so enticing? Curiously you watch, pulling back hastily as Mattheo's eyes narrow in your direction. 

You hold your breath in anticipation, hoping he hadn't noticed you. The air thickens at the sound of approaching footsteps. Mattheo's tall form surfaces in front of you, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he studies your expression. The scent of cigarettes and mint intoxicates your senses. You stare meekly, frozen in place, your core clenching at his intense gaze. A dark chuckle leaves his lips, his voice low, as if speaking to himself, "Finding you was quite the challenge."  Your heart quickens to an unrelenting pace, a surge of heat swells in your chest. You scrunch your brows, scanning his face for an explanation. Instinctively, you step back into the warmth of the light, his body closing the space between one another. The intimacy of your bodies allowed you to admire the sharpness of his features. Glints of intrigue flash in his mahogany eyes, his lips twitching into a mischievous grin. It left you swallowing as your lips parted, your cheeks heating, head screaming. "Why were you looking for me? Did I leave something in potions?" You ramble, unable to fathom him talking, even acknowledging your presence out of class. He doesn't answer your question, meandering his gaze between your eyes and lips. His tongue glides across his bottom lip, sliding in as he bites it. "You know, Theo's always telling me, it's the quiet ones... who are the dirtiest. Is that true?", glamour soaks his voice. 

Your eyes widen in alarm, jaw dropping, breath caught in your throat. Your neck prickles, a shiver running up it. Your core palpitates at his words, clear embarrassment and arousal paints your face. You'd never been so red before, the scarlet colour apparent to him as he smirks. He crowed at your reaction, watching you struggle to speak. "God, look at you, a flustered little thing." He rests a hand against the stone, flicking your ear with his finger tauntingly. 

Cocking an eyebrow, his eyes intensify, longing for an answer to his previous question. When you couldn't give one, except a small, unexpected whimper. An amused grunt withdrew from his lips, smirking he responds, "So it's true, you're fucking filthy, aren't you?". Mattheo revels in your desperation, his cock twitches as he watches you struggle to conceal your arousal. Feeling flustered as being called out, your eyes fall, avoiding his gaze. A cold hand grips your chin, jerking your head to look up to him. Towering over you, he leans his body down to meet your gaze, his eyes revealing the hunger inwardly. Your mind attempts to regard what was happening. Were you having another daydream?

In a rapid movement, Mattheo's lips embrace yours hungrily. The unforeseen action startles you before your hands instinctively clasp, reaching for him. Raising your hands, your fingers snake through his curls, pulling him closer. You had only kissed one other before, and it couldn't compare to the experience of kissing Mattheo. 

Mattheo's lips captured yours in a ravenous fire of passion, his hand veering down from your chin, shoving through your hair. His hand clamps the back of your neck, a sharp tug pulling your head against the hard brick. The harsh force sends sharp pains up your scalp, your mouth falling open in an ache. Mattheo, unphased by your pain, uses the clearly intended action to delve further. His tongue manoeuvres forth, colliding with yours, capturing your breath. Your head spins, your lips struggling to keep up with his expertise.

Relief consumes you, as oxygen replenishes your lungs, your heart palpitating. The moment is stolen by Mattheo's lips ravaging your neck. His hand still clasps you, his fingers squeezing your neck. His lips soft and warm attack your skin, small nips pinching at your nape. Your skin burns, body reacting as whimpers and moans leave your lips. Your eyes shut tightly as your fantasy is recreated. Unable to think clearly, your mind is blurred with desire and desperation. 

His hands roam downwards, the trace of his fingertips felt through your clothes, your legs convulsing in pleasure. Your skin pricks between his grasp, his hands halting their travels on your hips. A yelp leaves your lips as your hips slamming roughly into his noticeably protruding dick.  A cocky smug highlighted on his face at the marks displayed on your neck.  You used this moment to rest, your eyes never leaving his. Their usual shade of brown revealed a now darkened tint, consuming a predator's stare. He thrives off the power imbalance between him and you. Your obvious craving for him fuelling his ego and his mind races with possibilities of what to do next. "Get down on your knees," he commands. 

You stare at him aghast, "What?!" you hiss flustered but surprised by your own harsh tone. Blood rushes to your cheeks, taken aback by his vulgar demand. 

He quirks a taunting grin, tilting his head as he clicks his tongue "Oh come on sweetheart, I know how desperate you are to please me?" His hands drift to your face, caressing it, making you feel small. His words sent a rush of adrenaline down your core, your mind drifting into a state of glazed bliss at the idea of his cock between your lips. His grins widen as studies you, watching the wheels in your head turning, contemplating. 

Yet, the anxiety of being caught in a compromising position halts you as you scour the empty hallway behind him. A hint of irritation picks at his face at the slow lack of your response. He rolls his eyes before clutching your wrist harshly and pulling you into a near crevice, covering the both of you from any prying eyes. Now hidden, the clear desire of his request shone in your eyes, your cunt throbbing. The clang of his belt draws your eyes down as he undoes it, your heart pounding in your chest. In a swift motion, he tugs his pants down to his feet, following next with his briefs. 

The sight of his protruding cock leaning against his abdominals makes your insides squirm. He wraps a hand around his shaft, releasing a sharp breath as he gives it a quick pump. You bite your lip as you ogle at the size of it; the tip swollen red, glistening with pre-cum.  He places a firm hand on your shoulder, guiding you down in your dazed state. Your knees burn on the cold pavement, the outlines of the cobblestones moulding into your skin. "Come on now, don't be shy, open up slut," he directs with a sadistic smile on his face. He taps the tip of his cock against your mouth, dragging it over your bottom lip. Your jaw drops as he guides the edge of his cock into your awaiting mouth. 

His hand slides through your hair, taking a fistful to tilt your head back slightly. Eagerness reeks off you as you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. You were nervous, trying to channel your anxiety into adrenaline. Your mind is still in a state of awe at the reality of what was happening. Only earlier were you daydreaming about this. You wanted to leave a lasting impression; prove to him you were a good girl, ready to be obedient for him. 

You wrap your lips around his cock, the sounds of his grunts flowing directly to your core. Your legs squeeze together, easing your ache only slightly. You allowed your jaw to relax, as you continued to let him fill you up. His cock was the biggest you had ever taken, making you blink back tears. Mattheo groans as your warm mouth devours his cock. He stares down at you, admiring the pretty sight. He would never get enough of seeing desperate girls with their mouths full of him. He loved seeing tears brim at your eyes, smirking as he watched you struggle to take his size. 

His hold on your hair tightens, his hips shifting forward slightly. You get the idea pretty quickly and move, placing your hands on his thighs for stability. "Such a good girl. Aren't you taking me so well? " He praises in a sadistic tone. You moan around his cock; the sound being silenced as he hastens his movements. Resting his free hand flat against the brick behind you, his hips settle into an unceasing rhythm.  

Mattheo's cock thrusts vigorously, scratching the back of your throat, making your core pulsing restlessly as it clenches around nothing. The intensity of his strenuous thrusts, have your eyes fluttering closed. Drool trickles down the side of your mouth as you gag, choking around his dick. "Look at me, I want to see those cock drunk eyes," he mutters, pulling on your locks jerking your head, jolting your eyes open. Gazing up, your eyes meet his lust blown orbs, a satisfied smirk coating his face. 

Maintaining eye contact, your body trembles at the feel of your approaching orgasm. Never having to withstand an orgasm so long before, your body submerges in pleasure, knocking the breath out of you. Your nails dig into Mattheo's thighs, your orgasm courses through you, your legs tremble, pressing together, to repress the movement. Unable to remain quiet, a whimper escapes you, vibrating around Mattheo's cock. 

Worry sets on you as a deep groan falls from his lips, your tremors edging him on. Praying your orgasm went undetected, you sigh contently at the sight of him caught in his own pleasure, for him to notice. "Fuck you like that, don't you? Like your mouth getting used like a little slut," he mutters, his hold on your head tightening. His thrusts become sloppier, his own climax hitting. You watch enticingly as his brows scrunch, flushes of pink, warm his face, small pants leaving his mouth. A stream of incoherent words spills from his lips as he shoots spurts of cum down your throat. Unable to swallow quick enough, the excess spills, leaking, down the sides of your mouth. Swallowing, you revel at the feeling of your jaw loosening as he removes his cock from your mouth. Mattheo regains his breath, readjusting his pants, tucking himself back in. 

He peers down at you, still on your knees. As you catch your breath, he reaches out, swiping his thumb to collect the excess of cum dripping down your chin. He nudges your lips open, insisting for you to lick it off. His eyes watch zealously, as you submit to his request, your lips clasping around his thumb, your tongue swiping, gathering the salty fluid. He withdraws his thumb with a satisfying pop. 

Traces of lust are still clear in his eyes as he trails them over your chest. He studies how your chest rises, your hardened nipples pressing against your school shirt, the evidence of no bra worn. The sign of your immodesty takes him by surprise. How had he not noticed earlier in class?  Your face flushed a crimson red, tear stains left down your face. He had never seen something so beautiful. God, your desperation to please him left his arousal at an all-time high. It was almost unprecedented, seeing you so wrecked by just sucking his dick before, unaware of your own climax. 

As you stand, he notices your weak knees, his eyes narrowing in on your thighs, as a drip of cum runs down. "Did you fucking cum?" He asks, his voice sounding almost reprimanding, had it not been for the curve of his mouth lifting into a taunting smirk. 

Shame washes over you at his confrontation, all traces of your confidence diminishing instantly. "Fuck, I didn't know you were this pathetic," a deep chuckle leaves his throat, his face wearing a sadistic grin. "Well, that's not true. I already knew that."

Your face pulls, frowning at his words. Your mind turns like a clock, ruminating on his words. You scan his face as you connect the dots, your expression changing into shock. "You're a legilimens?!" you splutter out. Your mind ponders endeavouring to recall any knowledge you learnt about legilimens. The art which involved delving into the layers of one's mind to extract their thoughts. Only known to be performed by an extremely powerful wizard or witch. You stare at him awaiting his answer, astonishment resting on your face. 

He leans back against the wall, allowing some space between you two. He lights a cigarette. "Knew you'd figure it out, smart girl." It made sense to you; Mattheo was son to a powerful wizard, one known for infiltrating the minds of his victims. He eyes you intriguingly, waiting eagerly for your reaction.

At his acknowledgement, heat blazes your cheeks, the realisation sinking in. "You read my mind!" anger courses through you. 

His eyes glimmer with amusement at your outburst, a cloud of smoke exhaling from his lips. He shrugs his shoulders, speaking nonchalantly. "Your thoughts were too obscene not to keep infiltrating." Not giving you time to interject, he adds more to the fire. "Plus, you should thank me." 

You cough on your spit "thank you?!"  "You're welcome." He grins at your response.  You give him as threatening of a glare as you can muster. "You're insufferable, you literally still read my mind without permission." You mutter.  Mattheo raises a brow, "Sweetheart, you were the one having erotic thoughts about me in class," he tuts. "I did you a favour."  "Besides," he gives an arrogant laugh, "Thought you wanted to be obedient. Huh?  Maybe it's time to punish you for being so ill-behaved. See how good of a girl you can be." He gives you a mischievous grin, knowing he got the last word in.  

[thefirstlioveyou]

how the van scene confirms mike's feelings - the framework & editing

i noticed something while editing a compilation of mike staring at will lovingly (because bless finn's amazing acting) and suddenly found myself analysing the editing choices/shots from the van scene (will’s monologue).

i found this scene doesn't only confirm will's feelings for mike, but mike's too.

what exactly makes this scene confirmation of mike's feelings besides the brilliant acting? it's the perfect cinematography and editing. ST's cinematography has been one of its greatest strength's, in my opinion at least. they know how to move the camera perfectly to tell us exactly what a character's thinking. the editing is also perfect.

**for this post, i won't be bringing up the lighting work or acting (at least not much) because it's something that's already acknowledged a lot.**

in the van scene, we are only able to really realize mike's feelings because of its choice of shots - specifically two subtle shots.

first shot:

every shot of mike during the speech had will still in the corner. unfocused, but still there. (minus the rear mirror and window shots)

except for one...

the editing work is one of the main keys to what makes this scene so intimate besides the great acting. the way it goes back and forth between close ups is meant to display tension/intimacy. they keep swinging between the both, almost telling the audience to pay close attention. there's something happening that isn't being said. the editing choice inflicts a feeling that rest of the world is gone - it's just them. (which is often what you typically feel when there's raging chemistry between you and someone else)

then they throw this one shot in, which subtly parts mike away with this conversation. he is distracted by something else..

the fact this one stands out different from the rest is important. will could still be seen in the other shots while showing mike is focusing deeply on what will is saying. then suddenly, just for one shot, will isn't there anymore. it's just mike, nervous and breathless. this is telling us that mike is no longer paying as much attention to what will's saying, but more on what he himself is thinking.

despite this being such a minor thing that is easy to dismiss, it changes a lot if you would've just framed it like the rest. not only would it get repetitive, but there would be nothing to take from the scene [visually] other than the fact mike is focusing on what will's saying… and sure, enjoys looking at his lips a lot. but, when you really think about it, the inclusion of this shot is what actually confirms finn's acting is intentionally romantic. the editors wanted to give the audience this one specifically framed shot of mike to draw your attention from what will's saying, to start wondering what mike is thinking.

and if you haven't already caught onto all the lip staring and quick glances, he’s thinking about will.

second shot:

there's one other shot that confirms it, too - the shot with jonathan and the rear mirror. this happens twice.

referencing back to what i said earlier about how chemistry between you and another can feel like the world shuts out and it's only you two, despite that being how it feels, it’s the exact opposite - everyone notices it. people around you can also see that chemistry. though.. it's only noticeable when it's truly real.

this is the point of the rear window/jonathan shot.

jonathan is noticing a shift in their relationship. he notices not only will's feelings, but mike's too. will is turned away, mike is looking at will - something will can't see. will story-wise believes his love is unrequited... when it's clearly not to the audience (or jonathan in this case).

this rear window shot is included to confirm to the audience that it is exactly what we're thinking - there is something romantic going on, there is electricity. so much so that other characters are catching on themselves. it isn't just a pretty shot. if it were, jonathan wouldn't have been included, and it wouldn’t be there two different times. filmmaking is precise, never forget that.

-

filmmaking (cinematography in this case) is so powerful and complex. any slight adjustment in editing or choice of framing can change the story you are trying to tell.

so all in all, byler endgame

[zmb1eslut]

I missed you.

Masterlist

ex-boyfriend!Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!reader

summary: Reader doesn't know how to say no to Luke, so she runs away every time he tries to win her over.

warnings: soft makeout, smoking, reader goes non-verbal when nervous (but she pulls it off), I don't usually write narrative (I'm a casual poetry writer).

word count: 1,091

clarification: as a daughter of Aphrodite, people develop attraction towards reader after long eye-contact exposure, so she usually avoids it altogether.

>>>──────────────────────────<<<

You thought it couldn't be true, the way his eyes still traced your every step that night. Like if a soft blow of unspoken whispers followed you like a shadow into the dancing ground. He was there. He was everywhere, pulling you from behind to clash just once more into his longing brown eyes.

You thought it couldn't be true.

Maybe your hopes were just blending into the air of that groaning old forest.

You sat down, as the last stars in the sky arrived fashionably late to the Aphrodite's secret reunion. A little self-conscious, you took your rolling paper out, losing yourself to the familiarity of your actions. You took your first blow, and while watching the smoke, at some point came the fifth. And then it became real, you didn't even bother to check, he was there. He was coming.

As if it was that easy, just like that, you felt his presence land by your side.

"Mind if I grab one?" he asked.

As he pretended not to be on the team that snuck that shit in in the first place, you pretended not to know he had already quit smoking 8 months ago. Every word was hard to say, you wouldn't waste any into empty accusations. As always, you let him have his way.

You broke the imaginary bounds that kept you from each other when your hand crossed the line with a lighter. He instead reached for your elbow, and his hands slowly moved up to your wrist, while he accomplished to move your hand away from both of you so it wouldn't be in between you two. He was silently begging for your eyes to simply look in his direction once more, you still tried to know better.

Your gaze fixed on his chest, the least dangerous place they could find that acknowledged his presence. He took the lighter, but your hand stayed there, hanging frozen. He blew the smoke on your face aiming at a reaction, and it felt like everyone disappeared behind the intimacy of the gas. But... you wouldn't be dragged into his world again. You stood up, and went away.

Every step was heavy. Once a lighthearted deared girl, and now a mess full questions and rage.

You've been treated like a temptress and like a whore, but it didn't quite prepared you to be treated like a princess who would never ascend to the throne. Left alone in a castle full of people, without love. He was always in battle, your knight in shining armor, who just breathed and crawled for a cause much grater than your sorrow. You guessed. He'd never tell. You never knew.

"How are the nightmares? " you dared, when your paths crossed again near the lake.

"Aw... You worried, angel? " was the safer answer, 'cause deflection was effective. You were always scared of being pushy, and had always been moved for a guy being scared. The breeze was chanting for you, while the silence simply dared you. You knew the dance. Your hands didn't wonder from his soft curls into his back, it was more proper to say that they knew the pathway back to back. Like if the traces of your fingers were already carved on his skin, just like another scar from battle, cause not to hold you felt like a war. And you surrender. just. once. more.

His head rests on your chest, and his sneaky hands have never feared but you feel them doubting, if traveling down your waist was way too gambly. And he dared. And you sunk.

"Don't look at me like that, Castellan" was everything you could think of. You were still resilient to bless him with your stare. But he felt powerful once again, and he was now sitting straight, gazing down at your glowing skin. And he dared. He slowly approached, and your posture played around, playing dumb. You tried not to laugh when he huffed.

It felt safe on his arms. It always did. And you knew inside, he knew where you were. In front of that lake, at a party like this one, he sat you on his lap in front of everyone, with your hand in his and kissed it every time he made you laugh. And when that night ended, it was just the start.

You left a hopeful sigh, and he caressed your side in response. You felt him again, closing the distance. You hide your face behind your hand as you decided to pull your hair behind your ear. He looks away, exasperated at your antics. Those were the reactions you liked.

Only him would make you this naive, but he was starting to doubt himself. He took his free hand to entrap you by each side, and looking at your lips, he shamelessly whispered —Can I kiss you? —and you knew you weren't playing anymore, and you realized that you truly wouldn't ever say no. That's why you always ran away. Your eyes looked up and lazed with the darkness of his pupils. Before you tangled on a desperate mess of brushes and silent pleadings. To your agony, his hand moved from touching your sensitive needs into a dominant hold from under your thigh. Your hands held into his collar and bicep. He pulled away and melted you with a smirk, got next to your ear and in a lower voice said "You are so irritating." You felt your legs go jelly as he chuckled. He kissed you again, you let it happen. You would let the moment swallow you whole, again into the warmth of his embrace. But you felt voices coming and you quickly went away.

Went away into the woods, your intentions becoming clearer and more humiliating with every lazy step you took. You heard hisnsteps as you knew you would. He found his way back to you. You looked up at him as your back pressed against a tree. And you never felt as excitingly frail before hearing his voice.

"Tell me, did you missed me?"

"I missed you, Luke."

He seemed satisfied, and pressed his body into yours. You could feel the way his shirt smelled like firewood, and his heartbeat raised for you. But all you could focus on was how needy made you feel the recognizable way his bulge pressed bravely against your crotch.

"Yeah... I missed you too."

>>>──────────────────────────<<<

[drvmekoo]

quality time | jeon jungkook

➳ pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x reader (f)

➳ genre: established relationship, fluff, a little bit of angst, smut

➳ rating: 18+ (minors dni)

➳ warnings: jungkook is a bit of a dick at the start tbh, t*tty kissing, n*pple s*cking, d*epthroating, p*ssy eating, rough s*x, unprotected s*x (wrap it before u tap it baes) cre*mpie

➳ wc: 2.1K

➳ author's notes: this is my first ever drabble on this account so please be nice! also please let me know if you guys like it! i always love hearing what people think about my writing!

➳ summary: you and jungkook were supposed to have some quality time together. however it seems he made other plans. and you're pissed.

-

“I just don’t understand the issue here?” Jungkook questioned, following you into the kitchen. “All I said was that Taehyung and I were gonna hang out tonight? Why are you getting all huffy?”

“You know that’s not the main issue Jungkook.” you carried on emptying the bags of groceries you bought onto the counter, back turned to him “It was meant to be us two tonight! I even went out to buy food, especially so we could cook and have dinner together!” 

Jungkook continued staring at your back while he spoke “So Taehyung can join us? We see each other all the time! What’s one night?”

You froze. Whilst you didn’t mind cooking for Taehyung and having him over, it had been a while since you and your boyfriend had quality time together where you could both be relaxed. While it was true that you saw each other majority of the week, those hours spent with each other were spent finishing off work from earlier in the day or sleeping because of the busy schedules. 

Today, you both had free schedules and that meant that the two of you were able to finally have that quality time you had missed out on for all these weeks. 

Your plan was to make a nice dinner together, snuggle up and watch a nice movie. Heck, you even put on Jungkook’s favourite lingerie set. That was how much intimacy you were craving from missing it all these weeks.  

Yet Jungkook seemed clueless. And that boiled your blood even more.

“I just think you’re being a little dramatic babe.” Jungkook rubbed your shoulder from behind “We can always do this again another time-” 

“Oh don’t give me that bullshit Jungkook.” you whipped around out of his touch “We never have the time to spend together yet the one time we do, you decided to invite Taehyung?”

“Y/n, the one night I have off I just wanna spend playing some games with my friend! What have I done wrong?” Jungkook stared at you, eyes open wide as your outburst continues

“What have you done wrong?” You scoffed loudly “I don’t know, how about the fact you haven’t even acknowledged that we haven’t eaten a proper meal together in forever? How about the fact that all we do is fall asleep without so much as a cuddle? How about the fact that we haven’t had sex in over two weeks because of how busy and tiring our schedules are?” 

At this point, you had had enough. You stormed out of the kitchen and headed straight for the bedroom. You had to get away before either you said something you’d regret. 

“Y/n, you can’t just walk away after that!” Jungkook followed you out. “What? You’re just gonna leave it like this?” 

Jungkook’s voice became a muffled mess as you stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. You heard him curse under his breath as his words were met with the bang of the door closing before hearing the jangling of his keys. 

“I’m going out for a bit. I’ll be back later.” He said flatly through the door, the closing of the front entrance the only clue that he had left. 

From then on, that’s when the tears started to stream down your face. This was not how you wanted the evening to go. In fact, having Taehyung over was better than this. 

But it was too late. The night had been ruined and you didn’t know where your boyfriend had run off to. Thoughts ran into your mind of him with another, using the affection he was meant to give you on someone else…

But you know Jungkook would never do that. No matter how mad he was, you knew he loved you more than anything and the fact that you thought, for a second, that he would do something so cruel made you sick to your stomach. 

You decided to get your mind off everything that had happened and instead turned on the TV to watch your comfort shows, quickly changing into a pair of joggers and snuggling into the warmth of Jungkook’s bed.

A few hours had passed and before you knew it, you were slowly drifting off to sleep…

You awoke to the sound of the front door quietly closing shut, as if the person walking in knew that the house was asleep. You turned over to see that it was ten minutes to midnight. 

Had Jungkook really been out for 5 hours? You thought to yourself, as you stepped out of the duvet and towards the bedroom door. Opening it quietly, you came face to face with the man himself 

“Hi,” he said softly. His face looked drained, as he eyed your face. “Can I come in?”

You nodded gently, widening the door so he could slip through. A part of you felt guilty that he had to ask to enter HIS bedroom, but he didn’t give you time to apologise as he started talking. 

“Look Y/n, I thought about what you said.” He took your hands and led you to the bed so you were both sat. “I know I’ve been neglecting you these past few weeks. You know how much I truly love you right?” 

You nodded again. He sighed, voice cracking. “I was wrong about not putting you first. I guess I was just so caught up in everything with work that I became selfish. I called Taehyung and told him I had plans. It’s just you and me tonight, okay?” A tear streamed down his cheek as you took hold of his face. “Please forgive me Y/n..”

“Baby..” By this time, you were both tearing up. “Of course I forgive you, my love.” You kissed his cheek as he pulled you in by the waist for a cuddle. 

“God the thought of you leaving,” Jungkook mumbled into your neck as you embraced each other “The thought of neglecting the one I love. Makes me sick to my stomach.”

You already felt the emotion of comfort wash over you as his scent reached your nose. 

“Never again. Okay?” Jungkook said, gently kissing your neck “Never again will I ever make you feel like that.” 

The sensation of lips on your neck made you moan softly. His strong hands around your waist already feeling like velvet on your body. 

“Let me prove to you how sorry I am princess.” His kisses grew more passionate. His secure arms manoeuvred you now so that you were lying down across the bed. “Let me show you how much I missed you.” By then his fingers were skimming the edge of your shirt, giving you the hint he wanted it off.

You lifted your arms up so that he can slip the clothing off you, immediately searching his face when your lingerie was revealed. 

Jungkook threw his back “Oh fuck baby…you’re killing me.” Straight away, his hands went to your boobs, massaging them from the fabric. Your breathy moans filled the air, hands already gently gripping Jungkook’s luscious locks. His face bent down to your chest as his mouth met your exposed cleavage. “Is this what you wanted baby, huh?” Another kiss to your chest “Fucked I missed these.”

While one of his hands caressed your nipple through the bra, the other slid around to your back and clawed at the clasp. You decided to help speed things up, arching your back a bit so you can undo the latch and from there you were left exposed. 

“Such pretty tits.” Jungkook whispered, “They’re mine.” His mouth immediately latched onto one, gently lapping at the bud with his tongue. 

You whimpered softly. “Kook, stop teasing….I want you.”

His mouth unlatched from your nipple. “Oh princess me too, I gotta get you ready first though okay? Patience my pretty.” 

At that, Jungkook returned his kisses to your body. He travelled down your figure, down slowly on your stomach right towards the pit of your pleasure. He stopped at the hem of your leggings. 

“Can I take these off, beautiful?” His fingers traced the lining of them. Once you nodded, he hoisted them down slowly. “Ass up beautiful for one second.” he smiled, once the leggings reached your rear. 

Once the leggings were off and you were left only in your panties, Jungkook stood up. As he finished taking off his shirt, you admired the way his muscles tensed as he unbuckled his belt and removed his trousers. His raging cock jutted out of his boxers.

You got up onto your knees while on the bed, palming at his dick through his own fabric. He threw his head back as your hand fell over the tip. 

“Can I taste you?” you asked politely, looking up at him through your eyelashes. He nodded quickly as he helped you remove his pants. His dick bounced as it was released from the cotton confines of his boxers and immediately you took him into your mouth, wasting no time to deepthroat him. 

“Ah fuck!” Jungkook gripped your hair tightly, gently thrusting his hips at the sensation of your warm, sucking throat. “Oh, baby girl you’re taking me so well.”

You pulled back but still had him in your mouth, lapping your tongue around the poignant veins of his cock. The smell of him made you dizzy, partnering with his quiet grunts filled the dark room. His hand pushed at the back of your head, urging you to take him deeper in your mouth once again. 

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum if you keep on like this…I wanna be inside you.” he pulled out of your mouth, and a string of saliva connected your mouth and his cock together. He bent down and kissed you passionately, tongue exploring your mouth widely. 

He whispered against your kisses “Lay down for me baby.”

You obliged. He tugged at your panties gently, inching them down your legs. You were now left bare at his glance. He kissed twice at your stomach before edging down to your pussy. His hot breath emphasised the pit in your stomach. 

In a blink of an eye, his mouth was lapping between your folds. Moaning against your clit, the vibrations sent shoots of pleasure through your body as you clawed at Jungkooks hair. His desperate licks edge you closer and closer. 

“K-Kook…I’m so close….” your mouth was held open at the amount of pleasure his mouth was giving you. Suddenly, the cold air hit your bare pussy as Jungkook leaned away. 

“Not yet baby…need to be inside you…”  

Jungkook positioned his cock at your entrance, slowly teasing the tip inside you “ready my angel?”

You nodded. Slowly he pushed into you, making sure you felt every inch of him.

“Oh…god Jungkook!” you clawed at his back, the size of him filling you up. “Y-you’re so big!” His cock quietly quicked the pace, as Jungkook nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. You whimpered at the angle his shaft was pounding you, eyes trained shut at the waves of pleasuring hitting you at every thrust. 

“My god baby…you’re so fucking…tight!” His muffled voice vibrated against your neck “I gotta pull out…I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum in me…!” You moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist “Fill me up…”

“Oh….gorgeous….It’s so risky…” He removed his face from your neck “.....But you feel so good….”

At that, his pace quicked as his cock pounded at your pussy. Every thrust became a newfound ripple of delight. You felt your stomach tighten as the well-known feeling returned to your body once more. 

“B-babe…I’m gonna c-cum!” You threw your head back into the pillows

“Cum on my cock baby….Oh, fuck!” Jungkook exclaimed as your pussy tightened around his dick. Jungkook too felt the familiar feeling of an orgasm in the pit of his stomach 

Not too long after as you rode out your pleasure, you felt warmth enter you as Jungkook spilt inside you. With gritted teeth, he once again delved into your neck as he too rode out the other half of his orgasm, still thrusting gently and slowly. 

You whimpered quietly as he pulled out and sank next to you. Straight away he pulled you into his arms. “I love you so much. Please never ever forget that okay?”

“Okay, I love you.” You fit right into the pit of his arm as he stroked your hair, both of you exhausted from tonight's actions. 

“Hey, Kook? I know it's late but I'm kinda sticky now…”

He chuckled gently “Think it’s time me and you had a shower.”

-

find out what jungkook did in those five hours here

let me know if you want to be on the taglist for any future work i may post! reblog or send in an ask to show support! ily

[luvsellie]

THE ATTRACTIVE THINGS JJ MAYBANK DOES

calls you a plethora of nicknames. he is a nickname kind of guy, i don’t make the rules! whether he is in the mood to tease or just simply acknowledge you, nicknames are his way of going at it. jj enjoys the way you roll your eyes and look away, slightly annoyed at him (and the butterflies that erupt in the pit of your stomach). he started doing it as a joke, but after a while, it just stuck. his favorites are definitely baby, pretty girl, and princess.

he does not hesitate to take the blame for you. with you being one of the most, if not the most, important thing in his life, he would much rather take the fall for something you did than have you face the consequences. even if it is something incredibly small, he’ll gladly take a step forward for your sake.

lets you fiddle with his rings. as a ring girlie myself, i will fight anyone and everyone who objects to this headcanon. when you’re bored in class, tired of listening to mr. sunn drone on and on about some history lesson, jj will pick up on your weariness and just offer you his hand. and, of course, you happily toy with the rings on his splayed fingers, spinning the jewelry that reflects daylight from the classroom windows. you can’t help but enjoy the warmth of his palm under your touch, forever content running your fingers over the smoothed out calluses and warm metal.

wears sleeveless shirts under your request. knowing you have quite the obsession with his arms (as you should), he likes to show them off. when he wears muscle tees or wife-beaters he is always sure to be extra smug about it, often wrapping his strong arms around your waist and shoulders. occasionally, when you’re feeling a little bolder than normal, you’ll even take the initiative of linking his elbow with yours as the two of you either walk or simply just stand side by side, not missing the opportunity to have his tanned skin against yours, bicep within your hold.

is the “wear whatever you want, i can fight” type of boyfriend. jj loves seeing you in provocative and revealing clothing (not including a bathing suit). whether you wear it often or not, you can count on the fact that he will immediately rush to tell you how gorgeous you are, his eyes bright and lips pulled into a flirtatious smile. “you look nice, baby.” the expression on his face always tell you he’s thinking you look more than just ‘nice,’ but you let his hidden yet obviously dirty thoughts slide. however, if someone else makes comments, or their eyes stay glued to somewhere they shouldn’t, jj is quick to give a warning. whether they choose to listen or not is up to them, but god help the motherfucker who decides to give not just give you a hard time, but also him.

shares his hobbies with you and vice versa. one of his love languages is quality time, and seeing you enjoy the same things he does instantly puts a smile on his face. additionally, if you want to take the time and teach him about some of your own hobbies, this man will do anything in his power to get good at it. you both like the closeness and intimacy of being somewhat vulnerable with each other.

open to hugs at any given point in time. his hugs are just…out of this world. you like the way time just seems to pause, even if it’s only for a second, the moment his front is pressed against yours. and the way he holds you—as if you are both the sturdiest and most fragile thing in the universe. his hugs make your heart beat wildly, and you’re certain there are times when he can feel it thumping against his own. the feeling of being swallowed by his existence makes everything just seem utterly complete. and this includes back hugs; jj is an enormous fan of these. the familiarity of your body against his, while he is able to be working on another task, is such a heavenly concept to him. multitasking, am i right?

is always there, ready to protect you at a moment’s notice. whether it be physical or verbal, you can count on your lovely boyfriend to be right by your side the moment something goes south. while he will gladly let you handle a situation on your own, the moment you send him a look he will happily step in and defend you. if the problem turns into something more dangerous, and more than a verbal assault, he’ll rush in without consulting you about it first. he would rather you be okay and mad at him than hurt and full of regret.

does things just to see you happy (but also contradicts you just to be annoying). being the way that he is, jj will always be a vexing combination of charming and irritating. he loves to see you happy and will do anything to get even the slightest grin on your face, but that also means he loves to annoy the absolute fuck out of you just for kicks. if you are trying to study for school or do something alone in a quiet space, he is there to make the one-person job a two-person job. will not take ‘no’ or ‘go away’ as an answer when it comes to being around you.

© luvsellie 2023 | do not repost, republish, steal, or translate !!

[ihavemanyhusbands]

A Feast of Blood

Also on AO3

Pairing: Vampire!Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Vampire!Reader (fem)

WC: 3.5k words

Summary: An AU in which Hannibal is a vampire. // Shortly after turning you into a vampire, your sire, Hannibal Lecter, teaches you how to feed, using Will Graham as subject. Things just get really horny from then on lmao

Warnings: Dead dove DO NOT EAT, SMUT (18 + ONLY), Fem!Reader, lots of body fluids being swapped (saliva, blood, cum // don't read if it makes you queasy), vampirism, blood drinking (consensual), blood mentions, biting, raw p in v (DO NOT DO IT), slightly subby Will?, very slight enemies to lovers if you squint, let me know if anything else!

Tags: @the-devils-littlegirl

--------

"Well fed devils behave better than famished saints." -D.L. Smith.

-------

The night drew closer to the hour between the dog and the wolf, shadows deepening. It had been quiet for the most part, as if the house was also holding its breath in anticipation.

Then the doorbell rang, loud as a death knell, announcing his arrival.

“Dinner time,” Hannibal said with a grin, his tone almost playful. 

He got up to open the front door, but you stayed put, smoothing out the hem of your dress. It was nothing fancy since you knew you would very likely ruin it, but you still wanted to look presentable.

You were more curious than nervous about tonight’s lesson, especially since it wasn’t with a complete stranger. 

For a week after Hannibal had turned you, he fed you only the blood that he’d procured. He’d wanted you to regain your strength first, but he had stressed the importance of learning to feed by yourself as soon as you were able.

As it were, Will, his most consistent donor, had been called in as the subject. You had met him well before you were turned, though even then Hannibal was well established as your sire. 

Will was always reserved, if a bit prickly, towards you. You wondered if he’d thought of you as just another one of Hannibal’s human playthings, gullible enough to believe he’d actually turn you.

It was true enough that Hannibal had fed on you a few times, but it was unlike his other feedings. You had watched him a couple of other times, oscillating between unbridled carnage and self-possession. 

The latter was more like bonding for him — The brutal intimacy of the bite, the unspoken trust that no deadly harm would be inflicted, the decadence of your life’s essence flowing through him. Sustaining him. 

But of course, he had kept his word, guiding you into the eternal night. And these were pleasures you would get to experience anew, just from the other side of things. You wondered what Will thought of the sudden turn of fate. 

He followed Hannibal into the living room, absentmindedly undoing the top buttons of his flannel shirt. You raised your eyebrows at Hannibal, who seemed equally amused at Will’s apparent eagerness. 

“A simple hello would be enough of a greeting,” you said lightly, tone just teasing enough for him to know you weren’t sneering. 

Will let his hands drop as he became conscious of his actions. “Force of habit.”

“Sit, please, Will,” Hannibal said, gesturing towards an armchair. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Will snorted at the irony of trying to relax around not one, but two bloodsuckers, but he sat regardless. His posture was tense, arms rigidly placed on the armrests, shoulders squared. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve started getting nervous now,” you said, feeling bold enough to continue testing him. “This isn’t your first rodeo.”

“Well, I trust Hannibal possesses enough self-control not to kill me. You, on the other hand…” He grimaced as if remembering himself, looking down. 

You sniffed, offended. “I didn’t pounce on you the minute you walked in, did I?” 

Hannibal put a placating hand on your arm. “Don’t take it to heart, my love. I have had years to harness myself, and it has not been an easy journey. And you, Will, must also understand that patience goes both ways.”

Will inclined his head in acknowledgment. “True, I apologize for that.”

Still, Hannibal could understand his spike in anxiety, but he’d decided to be polite and not mention it outright, as you did. 

“Something to drink for you, maybe? I’ve got that scotch you like,” he offered, and Will accepted.

As Hannibal went to get it for him, you and Will stared at each other for a tense moment. Perhaps his animosity stemmed from envy at you being a newly minted vampire. You weren’t sure if Hannibal had ever promised him anything, but you were sure your sire would have mentioned it if that was the case.

“Think you’ll be able to stand having me close to you?” You asked, tone mild once again. 

Hannibal returned, handing Will a glass of the amber liquid. He raised it in your direction, as if toasting to you. 

“After one of these, I’ll be loose and relaxed for you, don’t worry,” he said wryly, taking a swig. 

Your eyes were drawn to his throat as his Adam’s apple bobbed. You briefly wondered if you’d be able to taste the scotch in his blood, and if it would warm you the same way it did him.

“Better?” Hannibal asked, one eyebrow raised. 

Will nodded, flexing his fingers. Then, with a more determined look on his face, he turned to you. 

“Can I sit next to you?” He asked. “Seems like a good place to start.”

You slowly nodded, shuffling to the side to give him as much space as you could. You unconsciously glanced over at Hannibal for reassurance, and he gave you a serene smile.

“That’s better,” he said. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

This time, Will was sensible enough not to react. His head turned towards you, but his eyes didn’t meet yours quite yet. 

“That’s a nice perfume. What is it?” He asked, actively trying to soften his tone. 

“Oleander,” you said. 

“Deceptively sweet, but ultimately deadly,” he said, referring to the flower’s poisonous effects. 

He looked up then, eyebrows raised, and you let out an amused huff. “I suppose you’re gonna say it’s fitting.”

“That’s a given, but take that as a compliment, please.”

Hannibal chuckled. “There it is, Will. Flattery will get you much further.”

“Why don’t you sit on his other side?” You asked Hannibal. “Maybe he’ll be more comfortable that way.”

He complied, making Will scoot closer to the middle, his leg lightly brushing yours. That first contact made you tense, hunger stirring curiously within you.

Warmth emanated from him and your sensitive ears registered his heartbeat, loud as a drum. You could see the pulsing blue veins underneath his pale skin, branching out like the roots of an ancient tree. He was deliciously alive, and it filled you with longing. 

There were many things in your new, preternatural state that you were still getting used to. Nostalgia was a sheen on your mind you knew you had to shed, but it would take some time. You found yourself leaning closer to him, wanting to be near that spark, but both men misinterpreted this move.

“Easy now, we’re still warming up here,” Will said, but he didn’t move away. “Unless you’re just absolutely famished, then I don’t want you to torture yourself anymore.”

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Do you need another drink, Will?” Hannibal asked, sensing the tension returning.

He shook his head. “I’m good for now. Do you think it might be a good idea to try with my wrist first?”

“Yes, great idea,” Hannibal said. “Though not too much. We’ll save it for the next part.”

Will unbuttoned his sleeve and rolled it up to his elbow. He offered you his arm, the inside of his wrist facing up. You took it gingerly, your fingers lightly following the patterns of his veins. The touch was so gentle it tickled him a little, making the hairs on his arm rise. 

You brought his wrist up closer to your face, looking over at Hannibal as your lips were mere inches from making contact. He nodded encouragingly.

“There is more room for error here, but not by much. Don’t fully sink your teeth in, it’s enough to just break the skin,” he said, making sure you were listening by holding your gaze.

This time, your eyes flicked over to Will’s face, and he also nodded. Your sharp, slightly elongated canines pierced the soft flesh and blood bubbled right into your mouth in a burst of flavor.

You let out a sound akin to a whimper, latching onto the wound. Will sucked in a sharp breath at the sting but stayed put. 

“That’s enough now,” Hannibal said firmly, bringing you back to the present.

You painstakingly reined yourself in and lapped it up with your tongue, closing the small wounds. Your lips were smeared crimson as you straightened, panting, chin dipped in slight embarrassment.

“Sorry…” you murmured, licking your lips. 

“Don’t apologize, you did good, Mieloji,” he said reassuringly, the Lithuanian endearment making you smile. “Now, how about we get to the good part?”

Hunger lashed your insides like a whip at the prospect of more. They could both see the feverish glint in your eye, and Hannibal knew you were trying your hardest to prove Will wrong. He wasn’t sure, however, of how long you would last before giving in to instinct.

He pressed a little closer to Will, knowing he would have to be more careful this time around. You, on the other hand, hesitated.

“Do you… need a break or something?” You asked Will slowly.

“No. Do you?” He said evenly, undoing a few other buttons on his shirt and pushing it off one shoulder.

You shook your head embarrassingly fast. He chuckled, and it was the first time you had seen him break out into a smile that night. It set you more at ease, encouraging you to draw closer as well.

His breathing hitched as you leaned against his arm. Your face neared the crook of his neck, and you gently nudged his jaw upwards with your nose.

“That’s it, my love, tilt his head just so,” Hannibal instructed patiently, his voice like a purr. “See the line of his artery, how his pulse surges at your nearness.”

Your mouth watered, your pupils blown wide with a beastly desire. Before you could help yourself, you traced the tip of your tongue over his skin. You could taste the adrenaline in his sweat, but a hum of pleasure escaped Will’s lips.

Hannibal chuckled, letting you indulge a moment longer.

“Now remember, the bite must be precise. A single fluid motion, otherwise it can get messy,” he continued, tangling his fingers through Will’s curls, keeping his head in place. “He will whimper, but the pain only lasts a moment.”

“What if he moves?” You murmured, voice low and slightly hoarse, conscience fighting through the fog of your bloodlust.

“He won’t, he’s very well-behaved. Isn’t that right, Will?”

Will nodded his assent, eyes heavy-lidded. “I promise I’ll be good.”

Angling your head to one side for better access, you didn’t let yourself hesitate. Once your teeth tore into the side of his neck, his body went rigid at first, but then it slowly started to relax. 

You clasped him against you, lost in the rush of blood his heart was suddenly pumping down your throat. Without you noticing, you hooked a leg over one of his, your body trying to envelop him like a serpent. 

It didn’t matter that you’d been bickering mere moments ago, bristling at the mere thought of being in the same room together. All of that melted away as soon as your lips touched his skin. Will’s breathing had turned shallow, the barest of sounds occasionally escaping his lips. 

His taste was indescribable, like pure starlight, crackling like electricity within you. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and all you wanted was more, more, more. You could perfectly understand why Hannibal would occasionally give in to savagery.

“Slow down,” Hannibal instructed, taking hold of one of your arms. “Slower. That’s it, good girl.”

You peered up at him through your lashes, your eyes bloodshot and utterly inhuman. He caressed the back of your head gently, proud of you for fighting so hard to keep control of yourself. He was on the same boat as you, the metallic scent like a siren’s lure.

“Now stop, before you take too much,” he said, looking over at Will. “Are you doing okay, Will?”

“Dizzy, but I’ll live,” he said weakly, groaning softly as you closed the puncture wounds with your tongue once more. “Do you need me, too?”

“Just rest for now,” Hannibal said absently, eyes fixed on you. “I’ll get myself a taste.”

You disentangled yourself from Will, slowly coming back to reality. The lower half of your face, your neck, and your chest were stained crimson, adorning you like macabre jewelry. 

Hannibal immediately drew you to him, kissing you like he was trying to devour you whole. The blood smeared messily between you, tongues swirling in each other’s mouths. When you separated, an obscene, pink string of saliva hung between your lips.

He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself some despite the desire glazing his eyes.

“I… I will get you some water, and something to eat,” He said to Will in a daze, standing up from the couch slowly. “Just— one second.”

You watched him leave the room, your mind still whirling from the whole thing. Then suddenly, you scented fresh blood once again and looked over at Will in surprise. He had bitten his lip hard enough to bleed, and it was starting to swell. He was breathing hard, and there was a plea in his striking blue eyes.

You let out a desirous, pathetic sound, your body moving on its own accord. Your lips slid over his in an almost kiss, your faces inches apart, breaths mingling.

“You really want me to kiss you?” You panted, eyes heavy lidded. “I thought you hated me.”

He shook his head. “It was envy, and it was want. It was always want.”

You kissed him then, trembling eagerly. It was slow and tentative at first, but intensity built quickly. You were still riding the high of feeding from him, but a languorous heat was also spreading through you; Burning everything else away.

You didn’t hear Hannibal returning, but you felt him take his place back on Will’s other side. One look at him, and you could immediately tell he was just as restless. You broke the kiss for a moment to meet Hannibal’s lips, enticing him further.

And when you returned to Will’s lips, Hannibal’s face drew close, too. Then all three of you were kissing, a mess of lips and tongues and an ever-growing voracity. 

You left them to it for a moment and practically tore the rest of Will’s shirt off, exposing more of his warm skin. You trailed open-mouthed kisses all over it and Will moaned into Hannibal’s mouth.

“Please,” he pleaded, as if it was the only word he could say. “Please.”

“What do you need?” You rasped, kissing his neck and making him shudder. 

“Have me, use me,” he said as Hannibal pulled back. “Leave nothing behind.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows in delighted surprise, watching you slide onto Will’s lap, straddling him. 

“Careful what you wish for,” he said, smirking. “She just might make it come true.”

He stood and helped you pull your dress over your head. Will’s brows furrowed and he let out a small, agonized sound as he took you in. His hands roamed over you reverently, like a worshiper praising his goddess. 

You did quick work of his belt, pulling off his pants as much as you could. You reached down and felt the velvety underside of his erection with the tips of your fingers. His hips bucked into your hand and you shushed soothingly, gently, promising to ease his torment.

And then, holding it by the base, you slowly sank down on his cock. His grip tightened on your hips, helping you move as Hannibal dipped down to kiss you. His fingers stroked up and down your throat, keeping your head tilted back and your chest exposed.

Will’s lips latched onto one of the hardened peaks of your nipples, and you felt his stubble graze the soft skin as he rubbed his face against your breast. He repeated his motions with the other one, grunting when he felt you clench down on him slightly. His teeth added an edge that made you buck and writhe, but neither let you move too far.

You palmed Hannibal’s growing bulge over his slacks as you dragged your tongue over his. He covered your hand with one of his, pressing your palm tighter against it. Your hips rolled against Will’s faster, your free hand buried in his hair, tugging slightly.

“Fuck me,” you could hear Will breathe out in tempo with your movements, like a hypnotic chant. “Oh, yeah, fuck me… just like that.”

“Katinėli, let me get a better taste of you,” Hannibal murmured deliriously, tilting your head to the side and biting into your shoulder.

You cried out, eyelids twitching as your eyes rolled back into your skull. It was that overwhelming rush that made the first orgasm violently slam against you. Momentarily, you became nothing but pure sensation, held aloft by the two of them. 

When you came back into your body, Hannibal was mending the skin of your shoulder, undoing his slacks. You collapsed against Will, trying to catch your breath. He clung to you, in the last throes of his own release. As it turned out, the intensity of your climax had milked out his own. He smiled beatifically, his eyes heavy-lidded, long lashes fanning close to his cheekbones.

You couldn’t help a weak chuckle, lightly kissing his jaw. “Now you might need a break.”

“When I get my strength back, you’ll see… but for now, yes,” he said, also chuckling.

“All the better for me,” Hannibal said from behind you. Your back bowed as he planted a ticklish kiss on the base of your spine. “It’s my turn to reward you.”

Your gluttonous desire flared back to life, and you were pliant as he helped you off of Will, bending you over the back of the couch. Hannibal extended his hand towards him and said, “A little help?”

Will spat in his hand, and Hannibal slicked his saliva over his cock. You heard him suck in a breath as he pushed into you, stretching you slowly. Will offered you his hand and you threaded your fingers through his, keeping eye contact with him as Hannibal’s hips began snapping into yours. 

Your mouth was slackened by wanton moans, your body pressed flat against the back of the couch as Hannibal bent over you. One of his hands was on the back of your neck, pinning you in place, while the other gripped your hip.

“Such a good girl for me,” he panted. “You did so, so good tonight.”

“Please, let me taste you too,” you begged, already losing yourself once more to the hazy oblivion.

He could deny you nothing, so he presented his wrist to your wanting mouth. The pain of your teeth was exquisite, and you drank with the greediness of the famished.

Drinking from each other was like falling in love all over again. Like the deepest embrace, beyond carnality; Beyond even the physical. More of his weight leaned on you as he slid in and out of you, faster and faster, the collective euphoria between you growing. His grunts and moans were like a savage melody to your ears, indicating that he was getting close.

Will was whispering praise and sweet nothings near your ear as you gripped his hand tighter. These soft coaxings, along with the soothing feeling that Hannibal’s blood brought, and you felt yourself dissolve once more like seafoam under the sunlight. The ecstasy was almost religious, a glimpse of the heaven you might never see beyond moments like this. 

But if it meant your nights would be filled with such encounters, then you were more than okay with that. 

With one last, triumphant growl, Hannibal came inside of you. His cock was fully sheathed in your cunt, his last few strokes short and tight, riding out every last wave of pleasure alongside you.

He slipped out of you, withdrawing his wrist from your mouth. You sat back down next to Will, leaning against him. With the last of your strength, grabbed the glass of water and helped him drink from it. The three of you shared sated, conspiratorial smiles, like you instinctively knew all along things would lead to this moment.

“How about a bath?” Hannibal offered, kissing your shoulders as he hovered near you. “We could all use some cleaning up.”

“That’s a good idea,” you said. “And then we can take better care of Will here. I want to make sure he recovers his strength, after all.”

Will couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, you’re so kind to think about me.”

You smiled a Cheshire cat’s grin. “See? I can give as much as I take.”

“I’m never doubting you again,” he said, glancing up at Hannibal. “Either of you. Hannibal was right about you all along.”

You nuzzled his neck. “Hmmm, if only you’d realized sooner, we’d have been much more amicable before this.”

“But I’m yours now too, aren’t I?”

Yes, he was, and neither you nor Hannibal had any plans to let him go any time soon.

-------

[jjksblackgf]

too daring for you? | knj (m)

pairing — kim namjoon x reader summary — Namjoon can't keep your roleplaying idea off his head, so he'll make sure to surprise you with it when you least expect it. genre — smut, pwp rate — 18+ word count — 1.9k warnings — explicit sexual content, role playing, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, teabagging, manhandling, light degradation, cum eating.

Perfume, check.

Leather jacket, check.

Favorite watch, check.

Tonight, Namjoon was a different man. His night would not be the same as the others. No more boring date nights inside his apartment. Today he’ll go to a nice bar, where you’ll be expecting him. But what you’re not accounting for is his intentions.

Today he’s fulfilling a fantasy. One he’s been intrigued by since you’ve mentioned it. But to pull it off, he has to be his best confident self. Be in his A game and catch you by surprise.

Checking himself in the mirror and everything looks fine, appropriate. Except his expression. He’s not ready for this. He can only think of your request to spice things up. He didn’t know they needed spicing up in the first place.

“I’m living my greatest fantasy right now,” he remembered saying. You two were cuddling in his bed after sex. You were cozied up to his chest, and he ran the tip of his fingers through your naked spine. He was almost purring.

“Cuddling?” you asked, sounding surprised.

“Intimacy,” he answered, giggling at your amazed expression.

“Really?” you checked. “But I can’t say I’m that surprised. You’re always so… intense.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t really think we have sex per se, I see it as passionate love making. You’re fully committed to it.”

“And you’re not?” he asked. Your last sentence had his alarm bells turned on.

“Of course I am, love. Don’t get me wrong.” you shifted in bed, supporting your weight in one elbow to look at his face. “And I love that you’re passionate, and that you’re into all sorts of intimacy.”

“But?” he pressed, trying to stay calm.

“But… I, personally, wouldn’t categorize intimacy as a fantasy. I swear I’m not judging you.”

“Okay…”

“Are you mad?” you asked, and he watched as your brows furrowed in concern.

“What do you consider a fantasy?” he asked, letting his curiosity get the best of him. You just stayed in silence and studied his face, your brows still furrowed. “I’m not mad,” he clarified, making sure his voice sounded calm enough. 

He was telling the truth. Mad was not the correct word to describe his feelings. He was a little worried that he wasn’t satisfying you, so he was worried. He wanted you all to himself — soul and body, especially body — and he wanted you to moan how much you belonged to him, so he was possessive. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of another man finding the weak spots he worked so hard to build, so he was jealous. But mad wasn’t one of them.

You sighed, taking him out of his musings, and you answered sheepishly. “I like roleplaying,” you whispered. He hummed in acknowledgment and changed the subject.

But that night still ran through his mind every time you had sex, and in the ride to that bar he replayed that scene over and over again. He had to know what you were like, who you were, when you didn’t want to be yourself.

That was enough to give him back his confidence in his idea. His curiosity got him into this mess, and it was that same itch that would get him through it. 

The slick wood arches over the bar were the first thing to catch his eyes when he entered. The low light above the tables and booths complimented nicely with the black leather chairs. The live band wasn’t half bad with the smooth jazz. 

The atmosphere was sexy. He picked right.

He sat on a bar stool and asked for his favorite drink.

“A manhattan for me, please,” he heard a familiar voice say, and he turned around to fall in love with you all over again. 

Your smile was big when you looked at his face, and you opened your mouth to start talking, but Namjoon was set on making this night special from beginning to end. After all, he didn’t let you in on his plans for a reason. He wanted to see the desire and lust in your eyes when you realized his idea. Another thing he was curious about. 

“Hello, stranger,” he started, offering his hand. When you accepted it, he took it to his lips, planting a sweet kiss there. “I must be pretty lucky to have such a beautiful face sit right next to me.” 

“Thank you…” you said. Your tone of voice gave away your confusion, bending at the end, making it sound like a question. Namjoon guessed you were trying to understand his strange behavior.

“Does your pretty face come with a name?” he continued. He was amused by the many emotions running through your face, but he hadn’t quite reached the one he wanted to see the most yet.

“What?” you asked.

“Oh, no worries. I don’t mind a little mystery.” he leaned towards you and took a sip of his drink. “My name is Namjoon by the way. I hope I get to know you better this evening, angel.”

Jackpot. 

Your face lit up with understanding, and a sly smile adorned your face.

“You sound intriguing, Namjoon.”

“I could say the same thing about you.” he winked and was pleased when you bit your bottom lip. He made sure the bartender knew he’d pay for the drinks and made a move to leave. “I must leave now. But if you want to have the time of your life, here’s where to find me,” he said. 

He handed you a card with the name of a club and some cash for the Uber. “I’ll be waiting for you, angel. I know you won’t disappoint me.” he said, leaning closer to your face and inhaling the scent of your perfume. “Your name is on the list,” he whispered to your ear, before planting another kiss to your earlobe.

Arriving at the club was easy enough. The waiting for you to show up was almost a torture device. 

Did he do it right? Did you feel controlled, like he was dominating your decisions? Were you turned on by the idea? At the end, after he handed you the card, was the glint in your eyes just residue from the surprise? Or did you feel your stomach flutter, much like his own heart was beating out of his chest?

The possibilities were endless.

But it was like you had a neon sign pointed directly at you. He could see your face as you looked for him in the crowd. He took a sip of his drink. Should he go after you, or should he let you find him? He twitched in his seat, his leg bouncing. He must do something. 

But alas, there you were.

Eyes still filled with fascination. Your lips parted as you two made eye contact, and Namjoon watched you in awe. Shoulders back, and hips moving side to side, inviting him to glare, to stare, to inappropriately lick his lips. He watched every second of your hands as they ran through your body, touching all the places he knew you liked to be kissed. Your neck, your navel, the curve of your hips.

Dancing for him. A show just for him. Other people get to watch and envy him. But he’s the only one that can touch.

Intimacy be damned. He liked this fantasy better.

You curled your fingers, inviting him to dance. He didn’t have to think twice. 

He didn’t recognize himself. The Namjoon of yesterday wouldn’t do such a thing. Too timid to dance like this in public. To grab his partner by the waist and ogle at his favorite body parts. But you changed him. Reached his genetic makeup and twisted it to your liking.

He liked it too.

He didn’t last more than a song underneath your touch. Your hands ran upwards through his body, but before they could reach his neck and fist his hair, Namjoon was already kissing you. It was urgent, it was inappropriate, it was too damn sexual. He was sure he’d leave the club with a boner.

His tongue unceremoniously intertwined with yours, and his hands grabbed your ass with fervor. You weren’t so cute either. Namjoon remembered you were in a public setting when your hands reached the front of his pants.

He stopped your search, holding your wrists behind your back. 

“Not here, angel,” he said, panting.

“I know where,” you offered, twisting your wrists so you’d be hauling him around the club.

You reached the bathrooms, and you shoved him inside before a line could form behind you. Before he could ask about your intentions, you pushed him against the wall, kissing him again. He allowed himself to go further, biting your neck and leveraging his position to grind his groin against your abdomen.

“Fuck, I can’t take this,” you said, dropping to your knees and opening his zipper. 

His cock was already hard when you wrapped your mouth around him. He moaned your name repeatedly as you massaged his length in synchronicity with your lips. He moaned even louder when his tip reached the back of your throat. Your gag reflex made your throat even tighter, and he wanted to scream your name.

But of course you had to surprise him, using his length to slap your face and tongue, and putting pressure around his base. And that was enough for him to be overwhelmed by his instincts. He grabbed a chunk of your hair with one hand and secured your jaw open with the other, inserting himself in and out as he pleased.

He thrusted his hips once more, as far as your mouth would allow. He wanted to feel your throat closing around his tip again. He only let you up for air after you tapped his thigh. But he wasn’t done being rough. The trail of saliva left between his dick and your tongue inspired him even further. 

“Open your mouth,” he demanded, his voice almost an octave lower, and you obliged with a smile. He spit on your tongue before placing his testicles inside your mouth. Between the warmth of your tongue and his agile hands, he was close. “Fuck,” he moaned, inserting his dick in your mouth one last time before climax overpowered him. “I want to see you swallow it,” he asserted, already adjusting his pants.

You did as he asked and opened your mouth showing your tongue to prove it. Your smile was as big as he’d ever seen. If he knew you’d be this wild, he wouldn’t have been so reluctant to comply with your wishes.

“Good,” he said, taking a deep breath and helping you get to your feet.

Before you could say anything, or even better, go home to finish the night, there was a banging on the bathroom door.

When Namjoon opened it, he was met with a security guard, followed by an irritated manager.

“Oh, goody,” the manager said, taking a look around Namjoon to find you hiding behind him.

“Would you two please step aside? The bathroom is off limits from certain activities. I’m gonna have to escort you out of the premises.”

“Sure, that’s no problem.” Namjoon didn’t turn around to look at you. He just squeezed your hand as you two walked out of the club, but he knew your whole body was burning from embarrassment. “Well, there’s a story to tell our grandkids,” he joked once you two were on a cab headed home.

“If you tell them any of this, I will slowly poison you,” you threatened. “But I do need to tell them how amazing you are in all aspects,” you gushed, hugging his neck. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Anytime, angel.”

[celluloidbroomcloset]

I wrote a bit ago why Stede's coming-out narrative resonated with me, but I was considering more about how it's different from a lot of coming-out narratives in mainstream media.

Cinematic coming-out narratives tend to centralize the more public aspect of the revelation—often coming from a character who has known about or discovered their sexuality earlier in the story, followed by their coming out to friends or family members (often to disparate reactions). But Stede’s coming out is a simultaneous moment of self-knowledge and openness with the one person in his English life with whom he has been most intimate, and who has been most damaged (other than himself) by him.

I’ve seen it mentioned elsewhere that it’s interesting to have a gay man ask a straight woman what it’s like to be in love and to have her words help to bring his repressed feelings into form. The entire sequence is an acknowledgment of Stede and Mary's affinity with each other, reinforced by the combination of intimacy and distance that is a part of their married life. It happens in an intimate setting, in their bedroom, but we've seen how very non-intimate the bedroom is, where they either barely touch in bed or crowd each other out, get dressed and undressed with their backs turned, and where Stede refuses to talk about his emotions or desires.

But in the coming-out scene, for the first time, we see warmth in their room. There's a fire, and both are in their night clothes; Mary's hair is down, and Stede is without his nightcap. The effect is that they're more apparently comfortable with each other, despite the circumstances, than they've ever been before. Stede realizes that his existence has stopped Mary from experiencing her life. He sees that she’s found something to be passionate about with her art, that she's in love with Doug, and he wants to understand her.

There’s an open question of whether Stede has known about his attraction to men and simply repressed it or tried to ignore it, or whether he wasn't even aware of it. The sexual freedom fostered on the Revenge doesn’t seem to include his own sexuality. His relationship with Ed progresses like a friendship - and while they perform things like a divorce, it never appears that Stede is consciously aware that his feelings are not solely friendship, but sexual attraction and romantic love.

Which makes sense if we note that Stede has no friends, certainly no close ones, at home. He can sit in a pub and talk to people, but he’s not close to them (he’s isolated at the head of the table, rather than in the center of the group, and even mocked when he's the center of attention). The closest person he has to a friend is Mary, with whom he has to live and who also struggles to understand him. He doesn’t know what friendship really feels like, either.

Stede has no one else that he could be honest with, or even hope to talk to beyond superficialities. Even then, it takes an extreme act, starting with his rant at the art gallery and ending with her trying to kill him, to break down the barriers enough for them to talk. Where Stede is able to talk more intimately with Lucius and Frenchie and Ed, it takes near death for him to talk to his wife.

Certainly the coming out seems to be not a discovery of feelings but an actualization of them. Mary’s description puts into words what he's been experiencing, possibly his whole life. And for Stede, words and stories are deeply powerful—they're the way he enters into pirate life, the way he tries to understand himself and others. Talking, reading, and writing are fundamental parts of his self-expression, and so his coming out occurs through a story another person tells him. He plays pirates with his children, he reads to the crew, he asks for Ed's stories, he talks himself into roles like "the Gentleman Pirate." He participates in stories as a way of expressing the reality of who he is and who he wants to be. He needs to be able to put his feelings into words before he can ever fully express them.

So often cinematic coming-out scenes are framed as dangerous—how the other person, or people, will react. But there's no danger here. The danger is that Stede won't embrace the feelings that he has, which is put to rest even as Mary talks and we see the images of his past with Ed.

The scene centralizes Stede, not Mary, but it also does not ignore her. There’s no hesitation when he says “...I think I have,” or when he says, “His name is Ed.” Neither line is thrown off as an afterthought—he meets Mary’s eyes, he emphasizes his words. He’s clear that he’s talking about a man. He simultaneously comes out to her and to himself.

It is important that she's present for that, because Stede does need someone else to hear his words. He's a storyteller, and he needs to draw others into the stories that have formed such a part of his life. It isn't so much that Stede needs someone to perform to, but someone to enter the story with him, to make the words real.

Here, Mary draws him into her story of being in love. And he in turn asks her to hear the beginning of the story that he's concealed from everyone, including himself: "His name is Ed."

[milquetoast27]

The Emotional Reticence of Holmes and Watson

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, two shy Victorian men, maneuver their vulnerable feelings of affection for one another in an expertly flawed and human manner crafted by Arthur Conan Doyle. First and foremost, I am examining their use of "my dear Watson" (91 times in the canon) and "my dear Holmes" (14 times).

The first time Holmes ever uses "my dear Watson" in the canon, it's actually in a rather sarcastic tone.

"What is your theory, then, as to those footmarks?" I asked, eagerly, when we had regained the lower room once more. "My dear Watson, try a little analysis yourself," said he, with a touch of impatience. "You know my methods. Apply them, and it will be instructive to compare results." (SIGN)

Note: for The Great Game, this absolutely isn't the first time Holmes has used this phrase, but from the narrative perspective, it is absolutely the first time Conan Doyle put this phrase to paper, which is more relevant to this examination.

Holmes uses this phrase with a touch of exasperation, which even in itself holds some love within it as he encourages his friend to utilise his own beloved methods. And even in this first instance, while Holmes's tone indicates some displeasure, the personal address ensures that it isn't a genuine blow. But the intimacy of "my dear" is quite daunting, isn't it? so Holmes utilises the veil of sarcasm to break the barrier, in the spirit of "look, I've said it now. Now I may go and say it as much as I want."

Oh, and he does. The frequency of 'my dear Watson' slowly builds through the canon and peaks through FINA, HOUN and EMPT. It isn't surprising, considering they hold some of the most critical points in their relationship.

• "My dear Watson, you were born to be a man of action." (HOUN) • "Not for the world, my dear Watson. I am perfectly satisfied with your company if you will tolerate mine." (HOUN) • "Then these are your instructions, and I beg, my dear Watson, that you will obey them to the letter." (FINA) • "My dear Watson, I owe you a thousand apologies. I had no idea that you would be so affected." (EMPT)

It is evident, that it is after this barrier is broken in SIGN, that Holmes feels comfortable to use this address in such a sincere manner. In fact, it is apparent that it is in particularly emotional circumstances that Holmes is more likely to call for Watson through any means at all.

So, how about Watson?

His use of "my dear Holmes" is almost exclusively out of shock or surprise whenever his 'Johnson' claims anything particularly outré. Again, while Watson is in disbelief, and most probably doubtful of Holmes's claims, the personal address softens this blow to say that no real harm is done between them.

• "My dear Holmes," said I, "this is too much." (SCAN) • "My dear Holmes!" "Oh, yes, I did." (SPEC)

The first real instance of Watson using this phrase sincerely is in FINA.

"You are afraid of something?" I asked. "Well, I am." "Of what?" "Of air-guns." "My dear Holmes, what do you mean?"

Holmes is acting more than out of the ordinary to put Watson in some kind of concern and this question comes no doubt more from worry than simple surprise. He even asks again, "but what does it all mean?" which highlights his wish to be by Holmes's side, even in danger.

The first and only instance of a good-hearted affectionate address comes to Holmes in HOUN. However, interestingly, it is only through the written word, in Watson's letters to Holmes from Dartmoor.

• Congratulate me, my dear Holmes, and tell me that I have not disappointed you as an agent. • Such are the adventures of last night, and you must acknowledge, my dear Holmes, that I have done you very well in the matter of a report.

Watson's method of breaking the barrier is to send it remotely through his pen, which is, after all, much less daunting than saying it directly. It is absolutely worth noting that Watson has also used this language when specifically wishing for praise - it shows us that he feels the closest to Holmes when he is able to follow his own methods.

Conan Doyle shows us the ways insecurities and pressures can collaborate with our most earnest and deepest affections. Holmes and Watson aren't perfect beings, but navigate through their web of reticence and inner desires to find an unspoken but profound dialogue between them.

[doberbutts]

I think I saw someone recently say something along the lines of "if a gay man is assaulted and beaten on the streets, that's because he's gay, not because he's a man. If he wasn't gay he wouldn't have been assaulted", with the obvious conclusion here being if a trans man is assaulted it's because he's trans, not a man.

I think this line of thinking fails to acknowledge that while yes, if the gay man wasn't gay he would've been fine, if the trans man wasn't trans... He wouldn't be a man either. You can maybe divorce homosexuality from a cis gay man's manhood (though they're often interconnected concepts), but you can't divorce transness from a trans man's manhood. It's built into it. I'm not sure why so many people act like it's not.

I don't agree with the basis of your gay man argument.

The statement of if he wasn't gay he'd be fine is a loaded one. Would he? How did his hypothetical assault come about? Did people catch him in the act of Being A Homosexual by seeing him kiss or flirt with or fuck another man? Or did they guess based on behavior? Because plenty of straight, cisgender, perisex, GNC men do get attacked by homophobes for any display of non-conforming to patriarchal masculinity. There are more and more men feeling comfortable showing genuine affection and intimacy and love to their male friends without fear of "looking gay"- did this assault happen because a homophobe saw genuine male affection towards other men and guess incorrectly that he was gay?

If he was a gay woman, ie a lesbian, would he have been assaulted in that way? Well... that depends. Some lesbians do catch the same violent gaybashing as gay men. Others get it in a much different way. But I would say that the way people attack gay men and anyone they decide to label or lump in with such is pretty specific to gay men. There's overlap with other demographics, but both the "gay" and the "man" inform the homophobe's actions.

And, much in the same way, it is difficult to separate the gayness from the man portion of it. It's an adjective. One informs the other. Trying to separate them into two distinct concepts is literally the antithesis of what intersectionality is about.

[bloomingdayswithyou]

Pillow Fight with Rafayel

Pairing: Rafayel x gn!reader

Words: 425

Warnings: none!

Request: by @anxiousgoddest "can you make something with pillow fight with Rafayel with some longing, unspoken feelings and timid affection?"

A/N: i'm not replying to your request because i want to keep it in case i'm able to write your other request in the future! I'm still not that deep into his lore (even though Zayne is my favorite) 🥹 still I hope you enjoy this one!

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, Rafayel's apartment seemed to bask in the warm glow of twilight. He and you had spent the day in a comfortable cocoon of companionship, your interactions marked by shared smiles, gentle touches, and the occasional playful tease. Yet, as the night descended, an electric energy crackled in the air, prompting Rafayel to suggest an impromptu pillow fight.

With a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, Rafayel seized a nearby pillow and launched it at you, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as laughter bubbled up from deep within his chest. Feathers exploded into the air as you darted and danced around the living room, your movements fluid and graceful, their laughter a symphony of joy.

"Come on, catch me if you can!" Rafayel taunted, his voice filled with playful exuberance as he dodged another playful swing from you.

"You're going down!" you replied with a laugh, your eyes alight with mischief as you lunged forward, pillow in hand.

In the midst of your playful exchange, Rafayel found himself stealing furtive glances at you, his heart swelling with a warmth that transcended the simple joy of the moment. Beneath the surface of your lighthearted banter, he felt a depth of emotion stirring within him, an unspoken longing that begged to be acknowledged.

With each gentle swing of the pillow, Rafayel allowed his fingertips to brush against your skin, a silent caress that spoke volumes of the tenderness he felt in his heart. Your laughter filled the room, mingling with the soft rustle of feathers and the sound of your beating hearts, creating a symphony of love and joy that seemed to echo through the walls.

As the pillow fight drew to a close and the feathers settled around the both of you like a soft, downy snowfall, Rafayel found himself wrapped in the warmth of your embrace. In the quiet intimacy of the moment, he felt a sense of connection that transcended words, a silent understanding that bound you together in a way that words could never express.

And so, as Rafayel and you stood entwined in each other's arms, he knew that your unspoken affections would always serve as a silent bond between you, a testament to the depth of your connection and the power of your love. In that fleeting moment of quiet intimacy, he found solace in the knowledge that your love was as boundless as the universe itself, forever unspoken yet undeniably felt.

.

.

.

[kvtie444]

⋆‧₊˚ TEACHERS PET pt. 4

A/N: ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18!! kinda hate kinda love kinda deep not proofread lol

Summary: Reader has a new teacher and finds herself falling for him blahblahblah teachers pet by melanie vibes xoxo

Warnings: SMUTTT nsfw, swearing, i think that’s it lol

master list with other parts here !!

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"Would you like it to be a one-time thing?"

"No."

That was all Matt needed to hear before he pulled me into a passionate kiss. I stumbled back slightly as he walked with me, pushing me up to sit on a desk. The kiss was intense, filled with desire

and urgency. He proved to be a skilled kisser, and I couldn't help but respond in kind. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer as his lips trailed down my neck with a sense of need. The intensity of the moment heightened, and I could feel his arousal pressing against my stomach as his hands pulled me impossibly closer to him.

I threw my head back in bliss, hands propped up behind me to keep me steady. The rush of emotions and sensations overwhelmed me as our connection deepened in that stolen moment.

Our moment is interrupted by the sound of another school bell. Matt sighs, frustration evident as he drops his head against my shoulder. He then stands upright, heading to his desk. "I've got another class in 5 minutes," he says, taking a seat. I rise from my desk, approaching him. I adjust his collar and run my fingers through his hair. "What, we can't have a quickie in 5?" I smile, giggling. "Too risky," he mumbles, placing his hands on my waist.

My hands move down from his hair to his jaw. "Can I come over for a study session tonight?" I ask quietly. He nods with a small "mhm" before I lean down, pecking his lips. I pull away before leaving the room, smiling at him as I walk out the door, which he reciprocates. As I walk out of the building, I can't stop smiling to myself. I feel like a cheesy teenage girl, but I can't help it.

When I'm with Matt, I sense a truer version of myself. In solitude, there's a constant feeling of emptiness and boredom, but Matt brings back the excitement. I realize how absurd it may seem; he's my teacher, and we've only known each other for a short time, but I can't deny it – he genuinely brings joy into my life.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I find myself standing outside Matt's door once more, unable to suppress the silly grin on my face. The thought of seeing him sends a jolt of excitement through me. I give a gentle knock, and he promptly opens the door, leaning against it with his inked biceps flexing, his eyes taking in every inch of my body. “Come in”.

As we settle into the evening, our conversation flows effortlessly between the pages of textbooks and the contours of our lives. There's an undeniable connection, an intellectual intimacy that transcends the confines of a typical student-teacher relationship. I find myself drawn not only to the subject matter but also to the person guiding me through it.

The more we talk, the more apparent it becomes that our connection goes beyond the academic realm. We share personal anecdotes, dreams, and fears, blurring the lines between mentorship and friendship. The air is charged with unspoken tension, an acknowledgment of the growing bond between us.

"Do you understand that the Marxist and New Right perspectives align on this point?" he queries, peering down at me as we return to our tasks. "Mhm," I respond quietly, meeting his gaze with a glance into his blue eyes. He returns the look, his gaze shooting daggers. His hand gently moves my hair from my face, and then he plants a swift kiss on my forehead. "So pretty," he murmurs against my skin, a smile playing on my lips.

I push him back against his chair and straddle him, our legs entwined. He reaches up to grab my hips, his face expressionless. I lean in to kiss his neck, my hands moving down his body. As we continue to kiss, I feel him growing harder against me, his hips pushing back into mine as his hands guide my hips in rhythm. He leans back in his chair, his hands moving up to hold me tighter. "You're driving me crazy," he whispers, biting my lower lip before deepening the kiss once more. Lifting me up into his arms, he carries me towards his bedroom, our bodies pressed together through our clothes.

Matt throws me down on the bed and pushes me onto my back. "Take off your clothes for me, baby," he says, his voice low and husky. I hold eye contact as I peel off my shirt and kick off my jeans, feeling his eyes on me. He bites his lip, groaning as he watches me slowly strip for him. Stepping out of his pants, he climbs onto the bed with me, his hard length pressing against my stomach again. "You're so fucking sexy," he says, his face a mix of awe and desire.

He kisses me before moving down my body, past my sternum, down my belly, and reaching my panties. He kisses my clit through my panties, causing me to arch my back and moan his name, with his eyes fixed on mine the entire time. He sits up and removes his shirt, discarding it before returning his attention to me. He pulls my panties aside, his cold fingers brushing against my skin and sending chills down my body. He supports himself with one arm next to my head whilst his chain dangles over my face, focusing on rubbing his tip up and down my folds with the other, slapping it against my clit, and eliciting a whine from me.

He pushes in slowly, a heavenly groan escaping his lips, which I could have cum from the sound alone. He kisses my neck again as he begins to move in and out of me, the sound of skin slapping and our moans filling the room. His hand moves to my belly, feeling himself thrust in and out. I reach my hand to his bicep as his trails up, grasping my throat and applying pressure. "Fuck, Y/N, feel so good around me," He mumbles. I gasp as he suddenly grabs my ankle, propping my leg over his shoulder, and hitting a deeper angle.

"Fuck Matt," I whine, screwing my eyes shut. "Look at me," he orders, his thumb now moving to my clit and moving in tight circles. I open my eyes and see him looking down at me, a smirk on his lips. I feel the knot in my stomach growing tighter, "Fuck Matt, I'm gonna cum, please," I beg. "Cum for me, angel," he coos, as I release around him, a strings of curses and his name leaving my lips. His thrusts slow down as he releases inside me, groaning. He mumbles, "Fuck," dropping his head for a second. He pulls out and roll over, lying down next to me.

"Wow," I sigh, attempting to catch my breath. "Wow," he mimics me, prompting a laugh to escape me. I turn my head to look at him, scooting closer, and rest my head on his chest, my leg draped over his body. His hand underneath me rises to rub his thumb up and down my shoulder soothingly.

"We should go out sometime, you know, like a date?" I chime, looking up at him. His eyes flicker to me before returning to a fixed stare ahead. He licks his lips before speaking up, "I don’t think that’s a good idea." I sit up slightly, my brows knitted together. "Why not? Is there something wrong with me?"I half kid. He just looks straight ahead and shrugs. I scoff, getting up, and reach for my jeans, putting them back on. "I can’t believe you, Matt."

His head whips to look at me. "We're not a couple, Y/N. You're my student; we can't be going out on dates," he replies. "Oh? So it's fine to fuck your 'students,' but God forbid you grab some food together. Sorry if I got the wrong message," I bitterly retort, grabbing my shirt. "You're so immature. Do you realize I could lose my job? I could get in serious trouble, even charged for this, Y/N," he says, now sitting up. I roll my eyes and slip my shoes on. "Go fuck yourself," I mumble before storming out of the room and walking towards his front door.

As I reach his front door, I freeze for a second. I turn around; no one. I don't know why I was expecting him to chase after me. Was I really just a quick fling? I should have seen it from what happened at the club. I'm so sick of feeling like this, like I'm not good enough. Was there something wrong with me? Was he embarrassed? Of course, he was, Y/N, shit. I turn back to the door, blinking as tears roll down my cheek. I open it, step out, and slam the door behind me. Fuck this.

Matt pov 😮

I hear my front door slam, and I groan. I feel terrible. I had to make her hate me; she can't get attached. I don't want her to deal with the repercussions of all this if we get caught, which will probably happen sooner or later. I don't want to hurt her—hypocritical, I know, but I'm doing what's best for her. I'm protecting her. She could lose everything, the chance of a real future, and I don't want that. She's smart. She deserves so much better than that and so much better than me. In my eyes, she was so beautiful, too perfect for me.

As I sit there, feeling guilty and helpless, I can't help but think about the future and the consequences of our actions. I know that we need to be careful, but I also know that we can't keep running forever. Eventually, we will get caught, and the truth will come out. I just hope that when that happens, we will be prepared for the consequences and that we will still be together, despite the challenges we face.

I can't help but wonder if there is a way to avoid this, if there is a solution that will allow us to be together without facing the repercussions of our actions. I know that it's a risky thought, but I can't help but entertain the possibility of a future where we might find a way to evade capture and live happily ever after. For now, though, I will continue to protect her, to keep her safe, and to hope that we can find a way to overcome the obstacles that stand in our way.

Get yourself together, Matt. I grab my phone and sit on our chat for a moment. I can't text her; I can't encourage this. It was evil. I groan, throwing my head back. Fuck.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I've just finished marking all my essays, just in time for my next class, y/n's class. Of course, she got an A; she was so smart. I hated myself for it, but I knew I had to lower her grade just so I could tutor her more - it was so fucking selfish, but I can't help myself. Giving her a B- felt so shitty, but I needed to.

Eventually, my class arrives, and it's time to start this lesson. But y/n isn't in. Of course, she fucking isn't in, Matt. You fucked her, then made her feel like shit after.

I get up and make my way over to all my students, just checking up on them, then making my way to Madi. I knew they were close. I lean down, lowering my voice as I speak to Madi, who looks up at me. "Do you know where y/n is today?" I ask, trying to keep my cool. She just shrugs, "I haven't heard anything from her." Fuck. I mouth a small thank you before returning to my desk. I pull out my phone and send a quick text message.

To y/n

Can we talk, please?

I'm sorry.

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

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