#one of lifes simplest pleasures ...

[kaaatieepaige]

heavy on the laying out your clothes the night before— i hang my necklace stack and get my earrings/bracelets/watch/work badge/hair clips together too 🤌🏼 adhd morning brain always thanks past me for her diligence and helpfulness

fyi being organised and prepared doesn’t have to feel rigid. it doesn’t have to be about strict schedules, endless to-do lists, or forcing yourself into systems that drain you. i see real organisation (the kind that actually makes life better) as more like a ritual.

it’s laying out your clothes the night before, not because you have to, but because it makes the morning feel effortless. it’s keeping a beautiful notebook for ideas, so inspiration never slips away. it’s setting your space in a way that invites focus, flow, and ease.

rigidity creates stress. ritual creates readiness.

remember: the goal isn’t to control every moment (i think people misunderstand this when i post about it), it’s to design a life where you are prepared enough to move through it with grace.

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 .

# with roronoa zoro.

when one labored feelings for another, there were a few ways to proceed. to zoro, coaxing you into an aphrodisiac mist was not the worst of ideas.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, day twelve. smut (mdni!). aphrodisiacs. corruption kink. edging. virginity!loss. afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.4k.

he could not quite pinpoint the exact moment in which the trees began to mingle, a mortar of wood, frail vines and leaves that gave him no indication of where he was headed whatsoever. deserted, forest-like islands were not as common in the new world as they were on the grand line, so one for sure could expect the appearance of, at least, ancient beasts and odd plants. venture by oneself was far from the wisest decision, yet it hadn’t been one zoro thought much about beforehand. the perv-cook offered — rather insisted — to be your escort, professing love-coated compliments and promising to be your ever-so-diligent knight. zoro turned on his back and strived towards the first direction he faced right thereafter, lacking the self-restraint not to snap then and there.

that had been twelve hours prior.

according to the witch, the log-pose would take three days to settle their next route. without a closer deadline, zoro doubted they would waste time searching for him — not when that land offered fruits and herbs for re-stocking, as well as served as a hunting ground for their captain. he could handle himself well-enough for the time being, a half-burnt rabbit fed him just as much as those fancy meals the cook prepared and his swords could slice an opponent within the second. he grew quite used to a lonesome state of life, yet the crew undid that decade-crafted tendency, and those wandering hours without company had him quite melancholic.

zoro itched for you, and failed to contain the tendon of jealousy that wrapped itself around his heart. where were you; why haven’t you searched for him? perhaps the cook had you far more entertained than anticipated. the thought had him slicing the large trunk of a tree in four pieces, sheathing wado with a harshness uncommon to the usual treatment he spared to his swords. yet again, not his brightest idea, for he, too, seemed to have sliced an odd plant.

zoro’s nostrils were filled with spores, burning his throat and bringing tears to his eyes. he cursed, trembling fingers wrapped around the wild pulse of his wrist. his flesh grew scalding, sweat trailing down the muscles of his back. he half-expected to crumble, to have his throat constrict and cease the path of air to his lungs. poison. it must have been. he would soon be dead, punished for his own recklessness. his thoughts traveled to you, regretting the fact that he had not confessed. yet, his breathing remained — wild, ragged, there still. and the image of you ensued in greater heat, a pit of molten fire that threatened to ignite every organ; consume every particle of air. his cock was throbbing, aching, and zoro clutched own heart in agony, desperation feeding off his every thought.

the weather was tropical. it had forced you to leave the ship wearing nothing but a bikini-top and pants. zoro grunted at the reminder of those breasts, all but partially covered, frail fabric that he could snap with the simplest touch. he lost himself in his thoughts, tearing the waistband of his pants. spores embraced his aching member, and it was as though he had dipped himself into a sea of lava. zoro fisted himself, although the touch neither soothed nor brought comfort. instead, he fell to his knees, chasing a release that did not find him.

“zoro!” you shouted through the mist. “was that you, cutting through the tree?”

the sound of your voice had him shouting, pleasure coursing through his veins. haze of spores clouding his sights had him struggling to catch on the lines of your figure, lingering outside that clouded nightmare. he yearned for you — had been yearning for as long as memories could tell. yet, whenever he dared muse the prospect of confessing, courage failed him, and he was forced to retreat to his usual corner; to watch as the cook swirled around you.

that urge of pleasure brought by the plant, could it be shared? perhaps if zoro lured you into it, you, too, would burn — for it; for him. he was not the brightest tool in the shed, mind more often than not too slow to wrap itself around certain concepts. if zoro was to call you in, submit you to those spores, no one — perhaps the curly, but he did not care whatsoever — would dare blame him. he’d state he hadn’t noticed; hadn’t known; and in the aftermath of what he planned on doing to you inside that fog, if those feelings were not reciprocal, the pair of you would merely pretend. put the blame on the spores. it was a plan of no honor, but lust clouded his better judgment. the desire for your touch, which would present itself as the cure for the self-inflicted disease; the illness he planned on sharing with you.

“zoro?” you tried again, your voice strained.

he called out your name, straight into the lion’s den. his eyes grew more focused at your approach, ears perking up. you started to cough in sheer shock, yet zoro was conscient of the fact that it was but temporary. once your throat grew used to the burning, the spores would settle and you’d be conditioned to want him — perhaps as much as he wanted you.

“i’m here,” he coarsed, hiding his cock from your sight.

zoro beckoned you in, containing the grunt at your approaching figure. you were such a loyal, preoccupied crewmate, ignoring the warning signs for the sake of his protection. tear-pooled eyes met his wide ones as you caught on the state of him — kneeling, trembling. sweat glued the fabric of his shirt to his chest, and he marveled at the realization of your lust. hardened nipples, hands gripping the fabric of your pants. he could see you trembling, struggling to keep yourself together as you drowned in the sight of his sweat-covered figure. your mouth watered; your fingers fidgeted.

“come,” he told you, his voice coated with a sensuality unusual to him. “need your help.”

a faux plea. an encouragement to have you fall into his well-placed trap. when you grew closer, enough to witness the loose state of his pants, he allowed you to have a glimpse of his cock — tip red and leaking; shaft tortured around his bruising grip. he smirked, feeling it twitch as he shifted and offered you the entire view.

zoro called out your name, and you jumped as though a terrified deer caught in the woods. “yes?”

his self control slipped within the second, yet zoro would not dream to push himself past the boundaries of your consent.

“touch,” he rasped out, grunting as his thumb teased his tip.

you leaned forward, as though intoxicated; eyes dazed, chapped lips coated with your saliva. “it’s so big, zoro. i don’t—”

he threw himself at you, pinning you to the ground. his breathing pattern was ragged, and droplets of his saliva fell from his parted lips to your face. the second his hands wrapped around your wrists, zoro was moaning at the contact, the shared heat enough to cover his vision with black spots.

“shit,” he cursed, rutting his hips forward. you mewled, biting your lip, seeming embarrassed at the sound.

“zoro,” you moaned, squirming under his touch. “i won’t know what to do.”

he stopped, observing you as though you were a free-course meal. zoro licked his lips, daring to drag his nose into your chest, drunk in your scent. he wrapped his teeth around the strap of your bikini, glancing at you through his eyelashes, refusing to relieve the pressure around your wrists. “how so?”

your frustration surfaced; your hips rolling against his own. zoro’s pre-cum stained the fabric of your pants, and you bit down your lower lip, avoiding his gaze. “i’ve never had sex,” you admitted, pressing your cheek against the grass. “it won’t help you.”

his brain short-circuited. zoro trembled, threatening to come undone. the act of luring him to that haze of spores gave him the claim to your innocence, for he would be the one to maculate that inch of your body. he teased the waistband of your pants, drooling at the realization that you had no idea on how to behave whatsoever. the movement of your hips was erratic, inexperienced. your nails scratched against the back of his hands. your legs trembled; fought a losing battle against the weight of his own.

“you’re a virgin,” zoro breathed out in ecstasy, dragging his tongue down your stomach, never once daring to break eye-contact.

“i’m sorry,” you cried, voice broken due to both lust and despair. “i just want this to feel good to you. please, zoro, touch.”

he clicked his tongue, using both hands to lift your bikini top. the plant spores teased your nipples, and the broken sound that escaped past your tortured lips had him twitching. zoro’s tongue swirled around a pert bub, fingers pinching the other one as he used his other hand to force your pants down. he had no time for foreplay whatsoever, much too desperate due to the effects of the plant.

“it will be,” he promised, excited to ruin you.

his eyes glued at the pale-rose, lacy underwear of your panties. when he teased the strap, snapping it against your hip, you moaned. zoro’s own voice betrayed his desire when he tore the fabric and opened your folds with his fingers, exposing your cunt to the effects of the aphrodisiac. you were soaked wet; clit swollen; hole clenching around nothing. your essence dripped down on the grass; coated his nails. zoro refused to believe that had been all from the effect of the spores. you were so sensitive; so easy to arouse. he smirked, reveling in the sight of your disheveled state, forced into the aphrodisiac fog.

“can’t handle it,” he grunted, teasing your entrance with his tip. you teared up with a whimper, and zoro hissed as his cock stretched you out, walls swallowing him whole. “need to move.”

“please,” you begged, squirming. the burning sensation at the pit of his stomach all but exploded, and zoro started to pounce into you, thrusts fast-paced and rough. he slid with abnormal easiness, his tip numb due to the spores.

you struggled under his weight, and zoro snapped his hips as a response, gripping both your wrists with a single hand. his index reached your clit, rough digit drawing hectic, desperate circles. zoro constricted your movements and latched his lips around your breast, ignoring your sounds. he failed to see past the haze of pleasure, ignoring your sounds and squirming. you were but a ragdoll at his mercy, victimized by the restless pace of his thrusts.

“zoro!” you shouted, coughing thereafter for you had inhaled a considerable amount of spores in the process.

he bottomed out without warning, biting your nipple harshly. you followed-in-suit, yet he continued, the orgasm useless to satisfy his hunger. your cum mingled with his own, soaking his still-hardened cock as he persisted, ruthless and rough, his wrist growing numb due to the prolonged movement required to tease your clit. he felt you struggle, back arching and head moving to the sides. the instance thereafter, your hips moved in a failed attempt to match the pace of his thrusts — his chaste, inexperienced crewmate sheepishly baring fangs after the first orgasm.

zoro retreated his head off your breast with a pop, brushing his nose against your chin before biting on your lower lip. the aphrodisiac cloud began to lose its density, and he breathed it in; mouth slack as if to collect most of it before its disappearance.

“open it,” he demanded, collecting saliva during the process needed for your consent. the second the external world cleared, zoro spat on your mouth, forcing you to swallow the remaining spores that lingered on his tongue.

he pumped the previous round of his load inside before busting yet another one unannounced, glaring to where your bodies connected, enamored with the sight of his white-stained tip shoving itself in-and-out. zoro removed his finger from your clit, shoving it inside your mouth.

“cum,” he demanded, fucking his essence deeper, sensitive tip prodding at your walls.

without the aphrodisiacs numbing his flesh, zoro doubted he’d last longer — yet he refused to leave you hanging. your tongue stilled around his finger; a reminder that you had much to learn still. he teased your g-spot, his digit muffling the moan of your high, and zoro bit back a broken whimper when your essence drowned his tip.

zoro lowered his head to regain his breathing, attempting to swallow down the embarrassment at what he had done. the absence of spores, too, had him aware of your compromising position, and he released the grip on your wrists with a clear of his throat, fixing the top of your bikini.

“zoro?” you whispered, placing your hand above his own. “did it feel good?”

he dared face you, reading the lines of both bliss and hesitation in your expression. zoro smiled ever-so-slightly, unable to contain his adoration. “felt amazing.”

you cleared your throat, averting your glance as your fingers toyed with his. zoro was still sheathed inside, fearing the moment he’d need to retreat. he was lost in thought, struggling to find the proper words to convey his feelings. would you fancy an “i love you”? would it be too soon?

“can we do that more often?” you broke the silence, staring at him. “with a kiss next time?”

has he not kissed you yet? zoro softly guided your chin, pressing his lips against yours with a soft, victorious sigh. “can do it as many times as you want.”

you smiled, whimpering the second he removed his soft cock. perhaps a bit of recklessness could sometimes be rewarded.

— 🐈‍⬛ : a bit late today but time is a concept i’m sure it’s the twelfth day somewhere still!

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

✧ All the graces from Heaven

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Arthur and you enjoy a steamy morning at Strawberry's Hotel, much to the outlaw's delight. ✦ Warnings: SMUT 18+, MDNI! Oral (both reader and Arthur receiving), 69, a bit of fluff if you squint, porn without a plot, Arthur is more of a high/mid honor but loses it and gets a little bit rough, established relationship. ✦ Words: 2,6k ✦ a/n: Yeeeaah so. This is basically a 69 fic, it's pretty filthy and a bit less figurative than my usual works. Just pure smutty smut. I hope you'll enjoy it still! Pic is mine, not proofread! And as English isn't my first language, prepare for some misspellings.

The bedroom of Strawberry’s Hotel is filled with chuckles, and full of scattered clothes on the floor. Leathered boots, two shirts tangled together, jackets and holster belts thrown away messily on furniture. As a lighthouse in the middle of the sea, a black gambler hat stands tall hung on one of the bed's huge footboard legs over this tide of abandoned clothing.

Above it, the old wood creaks as two people mess with each other under the blankets, threatening to make the worn hat fall from its perch. Both are nude as the day they were born, and glued to each other as if they were wearing the other one’s skin.

You and Arthur had quite a time, last night. And since you had woken up, it was nothing but sweet words, cuddling and tickling. Teasing each other had become a private religion between you both, his sarcastic comments always met with a witty answer from you. It made him love you even more.

“Come on darlin’, stay.” Arthur’s deep voice asks you, as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, his nose impregnating with your smell, eyes closing on their own.

He feels good, there. It's in these simple shared moments, those laughs you sew together, those fingers and body you intertwine, those deep and dreamy conversations about your brighter future you share that Arthur finds his remedy. As if after all this life of surviving and fighting for a greater cause, a bigger picture, it was the simplest of things that appeared like an epiphany to him when it came to happiness.

You being the main source and Messiah of most of these humble pleasures, of course. His personal angel.

“You know I can’t. You may have the morning off for once, but I have somewhere else to be. Hosea needs me at the Tracker’s Hotel for a job.”

Arthur doesn’t hide his annoyance and grumbles against your skin, something about “Damn jobs always in the way” and “ The old man can wait a lil’ bit more.”

It makes you smile. As tempting as staying in bed all morning with a naked Arthur seems, especially considering how you can feel his fat cock feeling so soft against your hip, you feel self-conscious about leaving Hosea alone on your mission. You turn your head to the side to kiss your lover’s head, his sandy locks tickling your nose.

“Alright tough guy, time to go.” You decide before getting up in a sitting position, then crawling to the end of the bed to grab your ungarments.

“Not so fast, lil’ missy.” He objects with a low chuckle, obviously enjoying this little chase after you.

Before you can reach your aim, Arthur snakes his hands around your thighs and pulls you back to him in a quick and powerful motion, handling you as if you were the lightest feather, which makes you let out a squeal of protest mixed with surprise.

His laugh resonates for a second and then, he freezes. You had ended up on all four on top of him, but usually, your face was turned to his. This time, Arthur's nose is met with your plump rear, your chest to the other side, just above his crotch. You can feel his body, underneath you, getting tensed. This gigantic, massive, muscled body, so big and tall that his chest feels larger than a tree trunk between your spread legs. What was innocent playing for him just seconds ago had turned into a needy tension between the both of you. The air suddenly feels thick and a silence settles, a tense calm on the shore before a Maelstrom.

Your blouse and Hosea are a long time gone when you realize you can feel his breath on your pussy, the sensation making you shiver. You try to get up from the position, thinking he wouldn’t like to have his face shoved in your intimate parts, but his hands grip tighter and stop you, grounding you in place. You turn your head to him as much as you can considering your situation, taking an interrogative look at his face above your body.

His cheeks are red. Dark red. His eyes are fixated on your entrance, throat swallowing with difficulty. His bust rises and falls heavily, pectorals muscles swelling up before relaxing and rising again. He sighs, and you feel it again, hot air all against you, all against your now aroused and needy slit.

“We hum… We never tried like this…” He starts, voice low and suggestive about what he's implying, his hands traveling from your thighs to grab your ass, one hand for each cheek. They’re so big and firm, and feel so good there, as he squeezes, again and again, driving himself crazy as he admires how the perfect heart shape of your rear looks all squished under his fingers.

“You sure you want-”

Before you can even finish your sentence, Arthur answers it by pressing his lips to your pussy, exhaling through his nose and tightening his fingers on your flesh. This man always had such huge self-control for every dangerous situation known to mankind, but right now, it seems like he couldn’t resist taking a bite when having your perfect cunt under his nose…

A sharp and depraved noise leaves you, making his body burn like redden coal, his mind consumed more and more by your whole being and the simple feeling of your wetness all against his face. His whole universe reduced into this touch, lips against flesh, saliva mixing with arousal. Your sinful nectar and his.

“God, honey!” You whine, back arching without your permission, body moving backward to him, searching for more, needing more.

“Taste so goddamn good… Never gonna have enough of ‘this…” He rasps between a few more kisses to your folds, as a praise or a statement, you’re not sure, and he’s not either as words just flow through him and he lets them out without a drop of restraint or reflection. A rough, unstoppable river. That's how he feels every time he eats you out.

His tongue slowly slips out of his filthy mouth and licks your folds, slowly, tortuously, from bellow aaaall the way up to the inside of your ass. You could have been scared of not being clean enough for him or feeling nervous about his face almost buried in there, but the sound, the moan he had made suppresses all these anxious thoughts all at once.

You have to face the obvious: he’s loving it.

“Aah- Arthur…” Your hips roll against his face, desperate for some more friction, unsatisfied and so aroused by his teasing.

“You go on moanin’ ma name like that and am gonna come without ya even touchin’ me, darlin’.” He warns you, voice hoarse, lips mumbling against your folds, his beard and mustache tickling you just the right way.

You answer his words with a deep sigh, the filth of them burning you to the core. He laps at you the same way again, in one then two long and slow licks, as if savoring you like the finest whiskey he would have tasted. A mewl leaves your lips after each one of them. You’re starting to get impatient, and he knows it, he knows you after all those intimate moments. He stops his lips right at the entrance of your core and gently slides his right hand between your thighs.

The way he has to fold his arm to touch you there isn’t comfortable for him, his bicep being way too big to be crushed like that; but hearing you, feeling your thighs clenching and the appreciative words you let out when his fingers land on your sensitive bud is worth this slight pain. Always putting other’s needs before his own, always being devoted and loyal, always finding happiness in being useful, that was Arthur’s nature. And the bed was no exception to it.

“Was you not supposed to go somewhere?” He asks cockily in a falsely innocent tone, brimming with sarcasm and smugness.

“P-please, Arthur… Quit the teasing, for God's sake…” You ask, trying not to sound too pitiful, probably failing at it.

“A lil’ needy after all, ain’t ya? Ma sweet girl…” He coos, and you can feel his lips stretch into his usual grin, his heart gorging with pride and excitement to have this sort of impact on you.

Bending to your wishes, his fingers start to rub and trace tight circles on your clit as his mouth makes love to your pussy, his tongue delving in as deeply as he can, and the pleasure finally hits you like an earthquake. It feels so good, so damn good, your breathing quickly turning into loud moans.

Your head snaps back forward, and your body pushes your rear up all against him as a cat who would stretch after a nap. Arthur hums in delight and appreciation, unable to speak but encouraging you still. He increases his pace, his digits quick and sharp and so precise against your sensitive spot.

Your face falls down as every fiber of your body hardens, and that’s when your gaze is caught on his cock. Your pussy clenches hard around his tongue just by the sight of it.

It looks so hard and swollen that it must be painful for him. His hips buck forward into nothing, his member almost hitting your chin, with every lick of his tongue inside you. His round and reddish tip is leaking, pre-cum spurting out even more than usual, flowing all the way down into his dark curly pubic hair. His pants would have been completely soaked if he was wearing them.

You're salivating.

It would have been cruel to let him like this, right?

Focusing on him to try and not collapse from your own pleasure, you suddenly press your chest against his belly and take his cock inside your mouth without any warning. The taste of him, this strong saline flavor, fills your mouth.

“Damn!” Arthur shouts in surprise, momentarily parting his lips from yours, fingers slowing their pace. “Jesus, girl!”

This time, it’s your turn to grin, as much as you can, considering how big Arthur is between your lips. You don’t let him any time to think or protest, knowing he would insist that you’d come first.

The way you're crawling on top of him makes it even simpler for you to suck him off, your head naturally placed at the right angle on top of his crotch, and you take advantage of that. Finding support on the mattress with your arms, hands gripping his legs, you bring your mouth up and down hard and fast, sucking his shaft with such vigor you can feel his body squirming underneath you.

“Ngh-! Darlin’! S-stop, slow down! I ain’t gonna last like this!” He tries to plead but his words are drowned in a flood of groans and harsh sighs.

Despite what he’s saying, his body acts in the exact opposite way, hips jerking, cock shoving into your throat at the same time you’re working him. He tries, he really tries to keep on pleasuring you back while you work him, but he feels like he’s completely losing himself, unable to do anything else, to focus on anything else at all.

Your breasts pressed against his belly, his face buried in your pussy and ass, each of your thighs surrounding his head, and your goddamn mouth around his cock, this devilish tongue sliding all around it… He's completely losing his head. It's like being drowned in an Ocean of You. It’s too much. It’s way too much at once for a simple man. A simple, weak, mortal man feeling like he’s receiving every grace of Heaven all at the same time.

His basic instincts win the best of him. His arms are now wrapped around you, pulling you flush against his body, a hand back on your ass cheek, the other on your neck, spurring you into moving your mouth just like he needs to.

“Oh, shit! Yes, go on, go on, take it!”

You've rarely seen him losing his temper like this. He's usually gentle and soft, patient with you during sex, savoring the moment, making it last as much as possible, playing you like an Andante movement from the most sophisticated piece of a symphony.

Right now, he's unchained and rough, rushing to the Grand Finale without minding about false notes, drunk from you and the sensation of warmth he is feeling on every edge of his body; face, chest, cock, every inch of him merging with every inch of you.

He groans all against your pussy, as your saliva drools from this erratic pace. His fingers grip your head and ass tighter as he chases his high carelessly, already coming, way too soon and fast for him. His cock stiffens even more as he fucks your silky mouth, veins gorging with blood, tip throbbing in the back of your head.

“Aaah- Damn… Good… Girl!” He growls loudly with a thrust of his hips after each word.

The last one is followed by a loud and throaty whine, higher-pitched and vulgar, the kind of sounds he would usually let out when being hurt.

He shuts his eyes in a pleasured-filled frown as he pushes his face even deeper between your legs and, more from instinct than anything else, sucks hard on your cunt while he comes, lost, so lost in a sea of primal bliss and pure organic pleasure. His large body burns and tenses one hard final time, and you can feel the path of his cum traveling along his length against your lips as he releases inside you.

It fills you, his saline and strong taste blinding your other senses, cum as hot and sinful as his state, and you exhale with satisfaction as you swallow both this remnant of his ecstasy and the last drops of his sanity.

Arthur falls back heavily on the mattress, completely spent, his sweat staining the white sheets, his hands loosening their grip. Before removing them from your body, he allows himself a playful little spank on your butt as he speaks again, a revenge not strong enough to his liking for your sneaky move.

“Jesus, you’re… completely wild...” He sighs, his heart slowing after having beaten like war drums.

He’s still panting, mouth open and covered with a mix of this sweet cocktail of saliva and arousal. He licks his lips, feeling so satisfied, the sensation of your body everywhere on his skin still vivid and present. Like a stamp of black, indelible ink that has left its mark on a blank sheet of paper.

“You really enjoyed all this, didn’t you?” You ask back while getting off him, legs a bit shaky, your throat starting to feel a bit sore from the intensity you had chosen to go with. “I haven’t heard you whine like this for a long time…”

“I don’t “whine”.” He scoffs, knowing damn well he did, and suddenly feeling ashamed of the sounds he had made and guilty for the rough behavior he had displayed. His negative feelings are soon brushed off though, thanks to your beautiful and mischievous smile enlightening him.

“Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that. I’ve still got ears to hear, Mister.”

“Hush. Now come here, 'gonna make ya feel as good and miserable as me from finishin’ that fast.”

His eyes burn with that fire he has. The one reserved for you and the excitement and adrenaline of action. You already know there's no way you'll walk out of this bedroom without being completely satisfied.

“Tonight. I’m already way too late to-”

“Now.”

The piece of clothes remains abandoned on the floor as the bed creaks again, that old gambler's hat only witness of Arthur's payback to you.

After all, he never liked leaving a job unfinished.

--

tagging some people who were interested in the scenario! : @amyispxnk @a-court-of-valkyries @fleouris

[lambcultist]

bare.

synopsis — ‧₊˚ ⋅ you have been alone for so long that she sees you fit to be her perfect next victim. your neck untainted, unmarked, and ripe. best of all, you will not complain when she invades. you will let her in unabashedly, as the helplessness of your biggest fear has led to chilling desire.

content warnings — ‧₊˚ ⋅ MINORS DNI ( 18+ ) agoraphobic!reader x vampire!ellie. dark content. dead dove do not eat. you have been warned. ellie is stalking you. home invasion. panic attack + paranoia. dom!ellie, sub!reader. blood. humiliation, degradation, and praise. dacryphilia. dumbification. feminine!reader. dub-con. reader is legitimately afraid of people and will not leave home for anything. technically reader is also a virgin but it isn't mentioned. pet names used: rabbit, darling, good girl.

　　　　m.list　wc — 2.1k　mdni, please ♡

a steaming cup warms your hands, the tea burns your throat on the way down. you have made relentless routine of this; each night, watching the liquid swirl in your mug and trying to find some semblance of amity in it. hoping it will calm the constant whirring of your mind, bring the storm to a halt.

because being alone for so long has caused irreparable damage to your psyche. it doesn't take a shrink to figure that out. your fear has ravaged you, and you can no longer even remember a time where you didn't feel this paranoia in your bones.

it is paranoia. seeing the shadow of your lamp-shade in a different angle has you fearing the worst, eyes deceiving you. hearing the wind outside—perhaps it knocks over something in the garden—you'll then spend your night with a butcher knife by your bedside. just in case.

currently you cannot be certain that you aren't being watched. there's no proof of such, nothing to go by aside from the nauseating feeling in your gut.

you exhale slowly, but your breath shakes. your own voice can startle you, hence you only ever mumbling nonsense to yourself. "nobody's here. m'okay. it's just me..."

just you.

it's so stupid. stupid, how it hurts to be so lonely. you desired it at first, pulled away from the world and protected yourself from its dangers. your neighbours don't have the pleasure to even know your name. you work remotely, and order everything to your house. don't own a car, don't need to leave your bubble.

it was everything to you at first. now there is more and more pressure and you cannot pop the bubble for the life of you—thinking about it feels like a death sentence, and you'd rather serve your life in here.

there's always been a small itch. even if it was just wishing your bed had double the body heat at night, you were still wanting at least somebody. affection is a bare necessity for humans. it's the one essential that you have deprived yourself of for so many years now that your chest has a consistent ache. you cannot indulge in what you used to love—even a movie kiss is enough to make you cry. of envy.

once upon a time you shed tears over the thought of catching up with friends. it's dangerous. you could be hurt. what if those people aren't your true friends? they could betray you. you were distrustful of the world enough to hyperventilate over opening a window.

now, there's an odd balance between fear and yearning. you weep at the idea of another person's understanding. to be known. feeling like you matter. everybody wants to know that they matter, but you've felt worthless.

thinking of the simplest acts of love, be it a hug or somebody squeezing your hand, gives a troubling reaction; it turns you on. you are alone enough to crave anything, you would be grateful for anything. you are sure that somebody could say your name and you'd feel yourself become wet.

"just me." you have to keep reminding yourself. between sips of tea to soothe your rather unused voice and frantic looks around your living room, you continue to reassure yourself. "i haven't touched the doors since monday's food delivery. everything is still locked. should be. m—maybe i should check..?"

your heart beats in your chest, thumping like a rabbit's foot as you slide your empty cup onto the coffee table. and then— an egregiously loud clunk comes from outside.

you sit up straight immediately, panic shooting through you. it sounded like someone walking up your porch. can't be. but that is exactly where the noise came from.

your feet drag along the floor and your knuckles squeeze the handle of your knife as you head towards the front window. you push the curtains back and take a look. and that feeling as though you're being watched, it feels more powerful than ever right here, but you see nothing. nobody.

this has happened a few nights now.

you flip the lock and pull up your window to peek around the wall—in case someone is hiding. the knife shakes in your hand but you hold it almost like you are cradling it. it's your lifeline.

"nothing. god, why does this keep happening?" you ask yourself. with the back of your hand, you rub your eyes until your vision is no longer blurry, and then you close the window. "i just need to go to bed."

the knife lays on your nightstand as you slip under the sheets of your bed, a lavender candle flickering in the dark to get you feeling a little number. at least that is your intent with lighting it.

"aren't you gonna blow that out, darlin'? that's a safety hazard."

a stranger. in your house.

your heart sinks, you choke on your breath, and you weakly reach out for your knife. but in seconds, she's knocked it out of your grip and climbing onto your bed.

"you think that little blade can hurt me? you're cute, rabbit."

she speaks like you have known her forever. as though you should know who she is. and her own nickname for you—rabbit—pushes you deeper into fear. you are prey. scared, paralysed prey. the one place you thought you'd always be safe in is now a far cry from what it once was, so even if you felt like fleeing... where can you run to?

"get off," you say, the words leaving your lips in a gasp. "leave me alone, h— how'd you get in?"

the wide look in your glassy eyes makes your predator chuckle lowly. her pupils are blown out like yours, not of fear, instead of lust. short locks of auburn hang down as she crawls over you, and when she finally speaks, you notice how terribly sharp and precise her canines are. they shine under the candlelight.

"awh, i only came to tell you you forgot to lock your window, rabbit. i wouldn't want anyone to come hurt you. other than me."

"fuck." you squirm only to have her place a hand at the base of your neck, pushing you against the mattress. "don't hurt me, don't, please. i'll scream—"

"don't you fucking make a sound," she growls. "i was kidding, darlin', i won't hurt you unless i have to. you just have something i need... and if you're good for me, i'll be outta your hair before you know it."

somehow, you only feel like walking yourself even further into the bear trap. it's the pet names, you think. but when her cold hands are sitting you up, positioning you like a particularly breakable piece of porcelain, it becomes harder not to let this hit your cravings.

fear and lust. so similar, yet so different.

there is a genuine gush of warmth between your thighs and you whimper broken words. "what do you want from me? you're scaring me."

"i'm sorry for scaring you rabbit, i know this is difficult for you to handle, but you're being so brave," she whispers. a slender hand squeezes your jaw and she grins in the dark, tilting your head up. your neck is bared for her, and she sighs dreamily. "i'm so hungry, you know?"

"hungry?" you repeat, eyes cast down at her. she holds your face so tightly your cheeks smush, it pushes a couple of tears out of your eyes.

but she is hyper-focused. zeroed in on your neck, and finally it clicks for you. her ivory skin, cool touch, and those teeth. fangs.

"so hungry, and i've had a craving ever since i found you, rabbit."

so many questions are at the tip of your tongue now and yet you can't utter a single word. because she's looking at you like you are her entire world. you are useful to her for something, it's a first in your life.

her hair tickles your neck, and as you sit tense and trembling, the predator's lips travel along the expanse of skin. she searches for a vein. and she groans gutturally as she tears into your neck and spills your blood, the cloying taste hot on her tongue.

your sniffles, mewls, and pleas fall on deaf ears, but she attempts to soothe you somewhat by rubbing up and down your side. you swallow thickly, neck stinging angrily the longer she takes from you. mortification floods your eyes even more, spilling over in thick and salty tears, when you notice your stomach swirling and flipping whenever her hand moves lower.

stupid, lonely, desperate, stupid girl. you can't help squirming even if it means her teeth tug harder at your tortured skin. you can't help feeling a little satisfied by how gentle she is even despite the danger she carries.

when she finally pulls away, a trail of your body's wine trickling down her chin and some oozing from the wound in your neck, it's because she had used her knee to nudge apart your thighs. you cover your face immediately, roughly wiping a mix of tears and snot from your face as the vampire inspects between your legs.

"i knew you would be easy," she says with a hum. it's a pleased sound. "you're supposed to be scared of me, darlin'. you might just have the worst survival instinct i've ever seen."

shame pools in your stomach and unfortunately for you, her mean words only seem to make your cunt wetter. your panties, a white pair, are translucent. completely soiled through, even without touch, because her hand stroking your waist meant absolutely everything to you in the moment.

"poor rabbit," she coos. her finger runs along the inside of your thigh and she likes the way it triggers a tremor in you. but she doesn't stop there. she slides her finger over your core, quickly and gently, but you splutter out the cutest moan over it. "my name is ellie."

she intended to take her feed and then leave. she intended to remain nameless. she wanted to have her fill and then take amusement in watching you scamper 'round your home in terror for days to come. but you have given her another need to fill, and she couldn't resist telling you what name to cry.

"it's okay, i've got you now," ellie murmurs, hoisting you into her lap and pressing your back against her chest. "keep those legs open, and i'm gonna make this feel all better, yeah? so tell me, do you always spread your legs for a stalker, or am i just the lucky one?"

"n- no," you reply, voice meeker than it's ever been.

"no? no what?" ellie asks. she's speaking gently against your neck, fingers now rubbing slow circles around your clit. she doesn't bother to remove your panties, instead deciding she likes them on more. she was flattered to see how ruined they are.

"i d- don't do this," you stammer. "for anyone."

"well, that's incorrect." ellie reprimands you with a small tap against your cunt. "what do you call this? you're laid out for me like a hooker."

"sorry."

"mm, sorry, huh?" she chuckles meanly, now going back to rubbling you. she can feel the way your pussy throbs against your thinned-out panties, and her fingers pull back wet as if she had touched your skin.

you, on the other hand, can barely keep your eyes open. your face is hot and shiny, ruined with tears. ellie can't hold back a smile at the sounds you're making—hiccuping sobs and blubbering out her name, your hips beginning to buck under her petting.

you can barely speak anymore, only crying out sounds that are vaguely close enough to her name. ellie is just pleased to have brought you to such a state with barely any touch.

she nods slowly along to all of your distressed mumbling, and as you approach your climax she can't help but to take a second taste of your blood. your neck is so close, she couldn't help the flare of her nose every time she caught a whiff. ellie licks a stripe up your neck, 'cleaning' the wound—but your sensitivity grows to be too much, and very soon your vision whites at the corners and your body jolts and tenses under her hold.

once you are finally limp, ellie coos and presses a last icy kiss to your neck. "good girl. you're the best, you know, darlin'?"

nothing but a small and disgruntled whine leaves your lips.

you were useful for something. since she feasted upon your lifeblood, ellie's face has more colour to it, there's a slightly warm buzz to her fingertips.

even after she leaves, you still feel grateful. she tucked you back into your bed and wiped your tears, blew out your candle, and even picked up your knife again—placed it back into its rightful position on your nightstand.

she touched you. she told you that no other victim could live up to the hospitality and selflessness you showed her.

ellie told you she'll be back next week, and you don't even feel afraid of it.

🏷️ @kaykeryyy @abbyslvrrr @cowgirlvi @absfemme @madewithsilk

thank you for supporting my fics. planning on making a permanent taglist soon, if anyone is interested. ♡

[queers-gambit]

Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs

prompt: slutty stranger bathroom sex on a train.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 3.7k+

note: are all our safe words pineapple? i need this man to rail me, you know, for science. yep, that's right, Cherry has a new fixation! aren't y'all so lucky?

warnings: author has brain rot, smut (public, strangers, unprotected), obviously cursing, PWP.

Japan was bright, you decided with a soft smile on your lips; looking around the train station glowing in neon lights; some blinking, some colored, all fluorescent. People milled around every inch of the place, all walks of life from school children to professionals with briefcases, talking on the phone, running to make their departure. Couples held hands, families took meals together, and a few meters away, a little girl screamed when her brother stole her Momonga plushie.

You must've been enraptured with all around you that your shoulder bullied into someone else's on the platform, making you gasp an instant apology in Japanese. However, the man you had collided with just offered you a stoic look up and down, letting his lips pull in a half-smirk, checking in English with a thick accent, "My apologies, love. You all right there?"

"Yeah, I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you bid with a small smile.

"'S all right, pretty ladies like you can run into me all day," he smirked, eyeing you up and down before following after his snazzy-dressed companion - who slapped his chest forcefully.

"Leave the girl alone, mate," the man reprimanded. "Sorry, miss, he gets it in his head he's God's gift to ladies."

"It's really okay, it was my fault for not watching where I was going," you assured the men, glancing at your watch. "I'm so sorry, but I really can't miss this train. Safe travels, gents!" You bid, offering a simple wave, then scurried off - trying not to double back for the man with a mustache.

God, was that man handsome! Like, illegally handsome. Hauntingly handsome.

You'd even go as far as to say he was devilishly handsome! Those eyes? Beautifully clear blue, alluring, drew you in and held you captive. His cologne? Absolutely heavenly, borderline intoxicating. And he was built like a fucking mountain - tall, broad, slender hips, bulging muscles that looked as if they would rip his button-up.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of the body-heating thoughts about the stranger you had just barreled into. Being horny got you nowhere, but being perpetually horny... Was the biggest fucking L. Sure, you could rub one out; you knew where the clit was and how to stimulate to your own pleasure (unlike most men). But it was something about a man sweating over you, thrusting into you with abandon; creating a mess in your guts, mind, and chest.

Yeah... You needed to get laid, you were fucking drooling over some stranger you had a 23-second interaction with.

However, upon entering your train and locating a seat in the hopefully peaceful quiet car, you mindlessly downloaded Tinder to pursue at your leisure, but only a few swipes in and you were exiting the app and deleting it (again) from your phone. The train was ready to depart the station, you cracking a bottle of water, looking back on your two-week Japanese excursion your job had sent you on.

And now, you were finally heading to your last stretch of meetings, requiring you to purchase an overnight ticket on one of the available bullet trains. Seemed the fastest, simplest, and most affordable way to travel - skipping out on upgrading to first class. Economy was just fine, you decided, perhaps doubting yourself when your eyes widened when you caught sight of the two strangers you ran into on the platform finding their seats a few rows up. There was a third man with them now that was left slumped in a spare chair - probably drunk off his arse, based on the man's grungy, disheveled look.

You tried not to thinking about the handsome stranger, but he was just a few rows up from you! God, you could practically smell his cologne from here, letting your mouth water slightly.

Yeah, perpetually horny was the biggest L - like you said.

Your thighs squeezed together as you crossed them, hoping the pressure was enough to relieve the build-up of warmth in your belly and cunt. Your headphones were placed, your attention diverting out the window, and tried to imagine if nobody else was in this fucking carriage - he could take you here and now.

After a few stops, your empty water bottle sought revenge against your bladder and ushered you to the closest bathroom. It wasn't as tight a squeeze as airplane bathrooms, but it was still a small facility to use. When done, you washed your hands as a knock sounded at the door, calling in Japanese, "Just a second!"

After unlocking the door and opening it, you actually flinched back slightly when the man from early with the '70s pornstache was stood directly in front of you.

"Well, don't you look like hell," you mused slightly.

"All in a day's work, love," he answered, stepping out of your way to let you exit the bathroom. He looked you up and down, asking, "So, uh, where you headed?"

You told him your stop, asking him the same. He told you, your mind doing mental gymnastics to understand that you both had a good bit left on this train... Surely, anything could happen.

"I'll let you, yeah," you half-smiled awkwardly, moving out of his way fully to give him access to the restroom.

"You know..." He trailed, pointing at the empty lavatory, "Could fit two."

You chuckled, "Yes, but I'm finished now - you go on."

He hummed, glancing up and down the train car - spying through the windows of the conjoining connection each car had. When he faced you again, he took a slow, calculating step forward, "That's not exactly what I meant, sweetheart."

You feet took a slow, calculated step back to find the wall, his smirk broadening. "Then how about using your words like a big boy and tell me what you meant?"

"You look like a smart girl, sure you can figure it out, yeah?" He leered over you, either foot standing between yours, nearly pressed into you but far back enough that he could maintain eye contact.

You pouted at him, "I don't read minds."

"Not sure it's me mind yah gotta read," he perked a single brow, glancing out the window again. "Now, I'd love t'stand here and ravish you the way I've wanted since you bumped into me earlier, but maybe exhibition isn't your thing."

"Judging me now?"

Now, both his brows slowly rose. His teeth poked out from between his smirking lips, praising, "Naughty girl."

"Maybe you're the one a bit nervous, hmm?" You quipped, boldly reaching forward to palm his cock - already half-hard. "What's wrong, mister? Don't want people seeing you so, hm, submissive?" You gave a cheeky flex of your hand, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"You fuckin' minx," he chuckled, hands to your waist now. "Get in that fuckin' bathroom or I might just have to give this whole fuckin' train a show."

"Better start charging them all," you whispered, hearing his growl before pushing his chest back to give you a little space. "You do this often, then? Proposition strangers into dirty bathroom sex on public, moving trains? Hmm? In a foreign country? Seems terribly disrespectful, don't it?"

"Sweetheart, the thoughts in my head about what I want to do to this body - those are disrespectful," he smirked. "Wanna tell me I'm not truly tempting you? You would've left by now," he pointed out, making your chest feel warm from the embarrassment you felt suddenly. You smirked and twiddled your fingers at him in parting, turned, and just before you could step away, you felt his arms lock around your waist. "C'mon, darlin', don't be like that," he hissed in your ear, your visible smirk spurring him on. "Not about t'beg yah, princess, get this pretty li'l arse in this stall."

You folded.

Being perpetually horny was an L, sure, but being propositioned by a handsome, hulking, muscly stranger was for sure a Dub, right?

You turned in his arms, lips only centimeters apart; breathing the same air, hand on his chest to ease him back into the bathroom stall. He grinned in triumph, and the moment you were over the threshold, still maintaining eye contact, he reached around you to click the lock in place.

"C'mere," he growled, surging forward to bring his lips down to yours finally - and just like that, your panties were done for. You moaned instantly, feeling something akin to relief when his lips molded against yours; all but immediately sweeping his tongue against the seam of your mouth.

Letting him in was mind boggling; literally making static fill your brain as your hand lifted to hold the back of his neck, threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. His mustache was stiff, wriggling in an irritating fashion against your upper lip and nose, but you didn't notice - too engulfed in the way he domineered every rational thought. His hands both pressed tightly to your ribs, then waist, down your hips, around to your arse - like he couldn't make up his mind where he wanted to touch you. So, he chose to touch you everywhere.

He was intoxicating; feeling drunk on his taste, smell, touch. He was warm, his curls a bit greasy but still shocking soft, and his lips - plush, welcoming, anchoring. You didn't even know his name, but you didn't need to! All you needed was exactly what he was doing: holding complete control over your heart, mind, and cunt.

Your stranger pulled back suddenly, offering a skeptical look, "There's no boyfriend, fiancé, husband I'm gonna have to look over my shoulder for, right?"

"Not since about 6 months ago, no. Do I need to ask you the same?"

"'Course not," he mused with a grin, kissing you again - but just a degree softer. Now, both his hands rose to caress either cheek; his tongue wagging against yours in more controlled caresses. One hand dropped slowly to hold your neck, pulse quickening, and your stranger smirked, muttering against your lips, "Cheeky girl."

You pushed him back half a step, offering him a once over before confidently reaching down for the end of your shirt and pulling it off over your head. Your companions mouth fell open when you revealed yourself to him, smirking as you opened your jeans to show a hint of the lace panties you wore. You told him your name, earning a confused hum. "My name," you explained, "figured you need to know what to moan." His tongue swept over his lips. "Gonna just stand there?"

He chuckled, checking his watch, then started unbuttoning his waistcoat. "Tangerine," he spoke simply.

"That your safe word?" You asked, shucking your jean clean off after toeing out of your shoes. "Hm, mine's pineapple."

"'S my name, love," he chuckled, opening his button up to reveal exactly what you thought - plains of smooth skin over rigid, bulging muscles. "So you know what to scream," he smirked.

You paused, stood in your panties, bra, and socks, asking through a small chuckle, "You're telling me, your mother carried you all those months in her belly, pushed you screaming - bloodied - into the world, looked at yah, and said, 'yeah, he looks like his name should be Tangerine'?"

He peeled his top half naked, your throat swelling close; swallowing harshly to clear your mouth of the overflow of salvia. Slowly, he moved closer to you, once again leering over you. He reached out for your neck, not too tight or aggressive, but forceful enough to tilt your head back. "'S a codename, love," he explained.

"Ah, so can't reveal the government."

"Exactly."

"The fuck kinda job you got that requires codenames?"

"The dangerous kind," he smirked, "wanna keep running your mouth or put it to other use?"

You chuckled and reached for his trousers, holding his eyes with yours as you easily unfastened him and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and suit pants. His mouth parted slightly when the cooler air hit his exposed cock, asking, "Safe word?"

He snickered, "Pineapple's fine, love," he sounded far too amused, watching you get on your knees in front of him, "but I doubt we'll need - Oh, holy, fuckin' good God," he seethed through clenched teeth when you eagerly took him in your mouth.

He was bigger than what you were used to - like a full double the size your previous partners had been. He was longer, thicker, and Goddamn, was he sweltering in your mouth. You wondered how long it had been for him, feeling your panties dampen as you felt exhilarated to show this man with a "dangerous job" exactly what your mouth could do - and why he'd never forget your name.

"Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned, collecting whatever hair he could in a makeshift ponytail; looking down his nose to watch you. His cock was overwhelming, but you were determined to earn the pleasure he would surely bring; mouthing around his cockhead, using one hand to pump what didn't fit, the other alternating between holding his hairy thigh for balance and cradling his balls.

A few times, you held his eyes with yours as you removed his cock with a pop; licking his shaft up and down like it was a popsicle on the Fourth of July. His jaw would clench each time, sputtering his breath. His veins were pulsing, prominent under the skin; making your cunt contract as his throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly, groaning.

"Li'l too good at this, baby, Goddamn," he breathed, chuckling to himself as he retracted his hips while holding your jaw. "All right, all right," he chuckled, "made your point, love. Get up here 'fore I lose my bloody mind."

You pouted, "I quiet like it down here."

"Darlin', I'm about to bust - "

"Isn't that the point?"

He chuckled and reached down to help you up, instantly searing you in a wet, messy kiss as he backed you into the sink counter; tasting himself on your tongue. It was erotic, something you were vastly not used to - no man ever being okay with you kissing them after having their dicks in your mouth.

But no, this Tangerine fellow was obviously built different.

One hand anchored your waist, the other dropping to toy with your panties gently; petting the waistband before sinking his hand lower. You shuddered lightly when his finger swept through your wet folds, both groaning in pleasure when he sunk knuckle-deep. "Feels so good, love," he praised, your legs widening your stance to let him better access; hand fully disappeared into your panties. "So fuckin' warm, yeah," he breathed, increasing his speed so he pumped aggressively. He didn't need a second finger, he was chasing your orgasm - purely focused on the way you withered before him.

"Tan," you whimpered, gripping his assaulting arm as he found your g-spot and chuckled darkly.

"Got it, there, did I? Yeah, let's see what you've got, love, c'mon."

You whined in your throat, leaning into his chest as your legs began to quake. You didn't get a chance to warn him, feeling that overwhelming urge to urinate - gasping loudly and needing him to support your body as his finger jabbed your g-spot to the point you were gushing into his hand.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he encouraged, stimulating you further; loving the feeling of your squirt in his cupped hand, "keep goin', good girl, that's it, yeah? I got yah, good girl, there you go."

You grunted when he slowed his hand to the point the heel of his palm ground into your clit. Feeling overstimulated, your hand slapped to his meaty forearm, meeting his eyes with a glare, begging, "Okay, okay, okay, you made your fuckin' point."

He grinned, "Didn't know I had that affect on you, love. Huh?"

"You could've offered to fuck me when I ran into you earlier and I would've bent over - right there and then," you whispered against his lips, licking into his mouth right after; making his own mind go blank.

"Feelin's mutual, doll," he nodded, using both hands to shred your lace panties from your hips with a shrill gasp. "Keepsake," he teased, showing you the ruined fabric before dropping it.

You offered him a coy look before turning around for him, not needing the instruction; meeting his stare in the mirror. Bracing yourself against the sink, you slumped over it, making him groan.

"Fuck, doll," he whispered, admiring the view and smoothing a hand over one bare cheek. "Just look at yah, ready fa' me, just drippin'," he bit his lip, giving a few pumps to his length as he looked you over; other hand toying with your weeping hole. He growled and slid his cockhead up and down your slit, both shuddering lightly; moaning in union when he notched himself at your entrance. His eyes met yours in the mirror, his mouth parted, slowly sinking forward to the fucking hilt - making you feel impossibly full.

"Oh, Jesus fuck!"

He chuckled, shifting his hips, "Keep it down, love, don't need anyone bangin' on the door, interrupting us, huh?"

"I'll be quiet when you get a smaller dick."

This made Tangerine genuinely snicker, "Fair enough."

"Fuck's sake!" You yelped when he suddenly pulled back, surged in, and started his own rhythm. Through the mirror, you saw the concentrated, cocky expression he wore; looking purely focused, mesmerized by the way his cock would disappear within you, only to reappeared - soaking wet, glistening.

"Feel's divine," he hissed, the grip on your hips sure to leave bruises. "God, this pussy's made fa me - grippin' s'fuckin' tight. Who was the idiot who let this go, huh?"

"Really wanna talk about my ex now?" You panted.

"Nah, don't need to - 's mine now," he grit, one hand letting go of your hips to bring down on the meat of your bottom. "Hear me? Huh? Fuckin' mine now," he pommeled your arse a couple more times. "Like that, huh? Don't you? Feel you fuckin' squeezin' me each time."

"Yes," you moaned. "Fuck, yes, yes, God, you feel fucking amazing."

"Keep talkin'," another slap that made you squeak.

You were nervous 'cause you never considered yourself the best at dirty talk, but still tried, "So fuckin' good, makin' me so wet. Fuck - never had cock like this, so good - so deep, so big. Don't stop," you whimpered, his feet repositioning to allow himself a new angle and speed to drill into you. "Fuck, yes," you moaned loudly, encouraging, "harder, please, yes, yes, yes! Just like that!"

The motions cause ripples across the flesh of your bottom, thighs quaking. You pushed your hand down your front, your partner groaning at the sight as you found your clit and started massaging; the contractions squeezing Tangerine's cock tightly. His one hand traveled around the front of you, sliding up to yank your bra from your breasts; palming one with fever before tweaking your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Fuuuuck, Tan," you whined, moaning. "Don't stop, please, 's too fuckin' good!"

"I've got yah, darlin', almost there," he grunted, folded a little more over your back so he could fondle you roughly. "Naughty fuckin' girl, lettin' me bend yah over like this - don't even know me. Just knew you needed my cock, huh, love? Ain't that right?"

"Yes," you moaned, orgasm fast approaching.

"Probably let me do whatever I wanted t'you, huh?"

"Fuck yes, whatever you wanted, however you wanted me!"

"At's a good girl," he grit. "Takin' me so well, so fucking good. Need this pussy again, hear me? Fuck," he panted, increasing his speed to an erratic pace, "need a taste, need yah t'squirt on me again. Need this pussy in all positions." He bared his teeth, increasing his speed, hissing, "Lemme hear you scream, love. Wanna hear my name. from that pretty fuckin' mouth, c'mon."

"T-Tan, fuck, Tangerine, I-I'm right there, I'm so close - OH FUCK!" Your orgasm made you reel back into his chest, milking yourself on his impaling cock. You gasped, mouth left wide as his hand constricted around your throat, his mouth hot against your ear; biting and licking as he grunted forcefully.

He gasped in your ear, moaning your name on a short repeat, shuddering as he stilled himself; coating your wet interior with his thick ropes of hot, heavy cum. Your eyes were closed, head tilted back to his shoulder; his lips actually soft as he planted several kisses along your neck (that he released) and shoulder. "Holy fuck, doll," he whispered, chuckling in disbelief. "'S a li'l too good."

You smirked, "Yeah, I've heard that before, you're not the first t'tell me."

"Ah, way t'ruin it, doll," he joked, making you chuckle breathlessly. "All right?"

"Mhm," you sighed, eyes opening. "You?"

"Never better," he mused softly, sighing as you both tried to regain your breath. He let out a single grunt as he held your hips, pulling his cock free; releasing a gush of cum from you both to drip from your cunt. As you both redressed, he eyed you for a moment, then mentioned, "Listen, love, uh... Don't miss your stop."

"I wasn't planning on it?"

"Good... Just..." He sighed, closing up his shirt. "Make sure you get off this train."

You stared at him for a moment, pondering, "This have something t'do with that 'dangerous job' of yours?"

"A bit."

You hummed, zipping your jeans back up sans panties. "Why don't you get off, too?" You asked softly.

"Can't, darlin', got a job t'finish."

You nodded, "Then be careful, yeah?"

He nodded in return, reaching out to pull you in close. He took a second to look you over, smirking slightly, "Worried about me, are yah?"

"I don't even know you."

"We'll change that," he eased. "Your phone?" You offered a small look before sighing, reaching for your phone, unlocking it, and offering it to him. He typed for a moment, a distant buzz heard from his own phone, then handed it back to you. "I'll call you up sometime, love," he smirked, watching you reach back to unlock the door.

"You better," you mused, letting him press one more searing kiss to your lips. You hummed, pouting slightly and telling him, "Behave, or we'll go at round two."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, darlin'," he pocketed your shredded panties with a cheeky grin.

"You still owe me for those," you pointed.

"Send a bill, I'll make it up t'yah."

You smirked, "No bill, but I'd take dinner."

To your honest shock, a sort of... Contemplating, soft expression took over his face, nodding, promising quietly, "I'll call yah, darlin'. Just make sure you answer."

[ part two: Shower Shenanigans ]

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[holistic-girlhood]

Being feminine is not about putting on feminine clothes or about pleasuring yourself for a couple of minutes before you let your masculine energy take over your life again. Being feminine is a mindset, a divine energy that you can reclaim, connect to and embody if society or your limiting beliefs made you feel or think in a masculine way. We live in a masculine-driven world after all and the more we need beings like you that radiate their femininity daily, unapologetically, in your own authentic way. HG gives you a headstart in a changing society, an opportunity to assess and adapt your ways & your behaviour to become yourself, finally. Today’s task: Discover the following keys to femininity and journal about the ones that feel difficult, the ones you struggle with, the ones that seem so hard to embody. If you can already check some boxes in this list, good girl, you are on your way to alignment, fulfillment and the embodiment of the divine feminine. Reblog to help others find their feminine self and share your experiences in the comments. XO

Be nurturing and compassionate: Show kindness to yourself and others, offering empathy without judgment. Practice listening deeply to understand before responding.

Be affectionate: Let yourself express warmth through touch, words, or gestures, whether it’s a hug or a loving note. Show up physically and emotionally with open arms and a full heart.

Let intuition be your guide: Trust your inner voice, even if it defies logic; it often knows more than the mind. Practice following hunches in small ways to strengthen your connection to intuition.

Allow yourself to be magnetic: Embrace your natural allure by being genuine, confident, and receptive. Notice how effortlessly people and experiences are drawn to your authentic energy.

Allow yourself to feel attractive: Look at yourself lovingly and see what makes you unique. Wear something that brings out your favorite features and let yourself feel beautiful, unconditionally.

Be warm and welcoming: Open up your space, your energy, and your presence to others. Smile genuinely and create an atmosphere where people feel safe and valued.

Let small things trigger sensuality: Find pleasure in daily moments—savor the taste of coffee, feel the texture of fabrics, or enjoy the warmth of the sun. Engage your senses fully in even the simplest activities.

Take good care of yourself: Prioritize self-care as a daily ritual. Nourish your body, mind, and soul through small acts of care that make you feel whole.

Make it easy to express love: Let love flow freely through words, gestures, and acts of service. Send a sweet message, compliment someone, or show affection in your way.

Be creative and fertile: Allow ideas and inspiration to come naturally; creativity can be as simple as rearranging a space or cooking a new recipe. Engage in activities that spark your imagination and bring new life to your world.

Be in touch with your feelings: Honor every emotion, even the uncomfortable ones, as valuable messengers. Journaling or talking with a trusted friend helps you process and understand your feelings.

Be receptive: Practice accepting help, love, and opportunities without feeling the need to repay or prove yourself. Let go of resistance to receiving, and allow abundance into your life.

Allow compliments: Take a compliment to heart without brushing it off. When someone appreciates you, simply smile and say, “Thank you.”

Be in peace with your inner darkness: Accept every part of yourself, including the shadows. Embrace vulnerability as a path to self-discovery and strength.

Be comfortable with cycles and changes: Trust the ebb and flow of your moods, desires, and energy levels as natural and necessary. Align with lunar cycles as a reminder that change is both beautiful and essential. Let the New Moon (White Lunar Woman) or the Full Moon (Red Lunar Woman) be your time of chastity, renunciation, surrender & give yourself rest and care.

See vulnerability as strength: Share openly and authentically, understanding that real courage comes from being seen as you are. Embrace softness as a powerful gift.

Take responsibility for your life: Own your choices and your path without placing blame. Recognize the freedom that comes with self-accountability.

Make that doctor appointment: Self-care includes honoring your physical health. Don’t delay when it comes to maintaining well-being; schedule check-ups regularly.

Create harmonious spaces: Arrange your surroundings to reflect beauty, calm, and balance. Use soft lighting, meaningful objects, or natural elements to create peace in your environment.

Let relationships be the most important thing for you: Nurture meaningful connections with those you love. Prioritize quality time and invest in the people who uplift you.

Destroy what’s out of alignment: Let go of things, beliefs, or relationships that drain you. Trust that creating space makes room for what’s meant for you.

Learn to be in the present moment: Practice mindfulness by savoring each breath and grounding in the now. Release worries about the past and future.

Be authentic: Show up as your true self, without fear of judgment. Embrace and embody the unique person you are.

Be elegant and graceful in daily life: Walk, speak, and move with intention and poise. Let your actions be a reflection of self-respect.

Be playful: Allow yourself to laugh, be spontaneous, and enjoy life with a light heart. Indulge in activities that make you feel carefree and alive.

Have a feminine essence: Embrace softness, fluidity, and intuition in all you do. Honor your feminine energy as something sacred and natural.

Be part of a sisterhood: Build supportive, empowering connections with other women. Find strength in shared experiences and uplift one another.

Allow yourself to be motherly towards people: Offer care, advice, and support to those who need it. Share your nurturing energy in ways that feel comfortable.

Be polite and harmony-focused: Aim to create peace in your interactions, choosing kindness and understanding over conflict. Approach others with gentle words and a calm presence.

See femininity as your ultimate strength: Embrace all that makes you feminine—your empathy, intuition, and resilience—as powerful assets. Recognize your unique contributions to the world.

Dance: Move freely to music as a celebration of life. Let your body express itself without inhibition. Connect with your body and be in the present.

Do yoga or pilates: Connect with your body and mind through gentle, intentional movements. Find peace and strength in the flow of each posture.

Allow yourself to be soft as often as possible: Embrace gentleness in your thoughts, actions, and words. See softness as an expression of inner peace and resilience.

Go into nature: Reconnect with the earth by spending time outside. Let the natural world renew and ground you.

Pamper yourself: Set aside time for indulgent self-care, like a warm bath or a relaxing massage. Treat yourself with the same kindness and care you’d offer a loved one.

Have a positive body image: Embrace your body for all it does and how it makes you feel. Celebrate your unique beauty without comparison.

Connect with cis-women: Share stories, support, and wisdom with the women in your life. Build a network of solidarity and empowerment.

Pursue guilt-free pleasures: Allow yourself to enjoy what makes you happy without shame. Whether it’s a hobby, treat, or rest, embrace pleasure as a birthright.

Question old beliefs: Reassess what you were taught about femininity and strength. Replace limiting beliefs with affirmations that support your growth.

Eliminate your limiting beliefs: Identify thoughts that keep you small or fearful. Replace them with beliefs that encourage your expansion and confidence.

Create a beauty routine: Engage in rituals that make you feel radiant, inside and out. Find joy in caring for yourself daily.

Stop obsessing: Let go of the need for control or perfection. Breathe, release, and trust that everything will fall into place.

Stop overthinking: Surrender to the flow of life and trust yourself. Practice letting your thoughts come and go without attaching meaning to each one.

Master the art of detachment: Hold space for what you love without needing it to be a certain way. Let go of outcomes and accept the beauty of what is.

Let others help you: Be open to receiving support without feeling weak or burdensome. Accept help as an act of love and connection.

Seek self-validation instead of external validation: Value your opinion of yourself over others’ opinions. Practice self-affirmation as a daily ritual.

Compassion over competition: Celebrate other women’s successes and recognize that there’s enough abundance for all. Shift from envy to inspiration.

Be accepting: Practice open-mindedness towards yourself and others. Embrace imperfections and differences with a loving heart.

Be open: Approach life with curiosity and a willingness to explore. Allow yourself to be surprised and delighted by new experiences.

Live your truth unapologetically: Stand firmly in your beliefs and desires, even if they defy others’ expectations. Honor your path without apology.

Set and enforce boundaries: Protect your energy by saying no when you need to. Boundaries aren’t barriers; they’re guides to healthy relationships.

Allow yourself to be lighthearted and fun: Embrace humor, joy, and a childlike wonder. Life isn’t always serious; play and laugh as much as possible.

Allow yourself to be seductive: Recognize and celebrate your sensuality. Let your allure shine naturally without hiding or minimizing it.

Follow your heart: Tune into your deepest desires and pursue them fearlessly. Let passion, love, and intuition guide your choices.

[sxfterhearts]

tainted

DAY 3: phonesex/sexting/foreplay/dystopia with choi jiung

🕸 genre/pairings: dystopia!au - lower working class, dom!jiung x upper class, sub!reader

🕸 warnings: smut nsfw (mdni) | phone sex, mutual guided masturbation, slight degradation and corruption kink (consensual), name calling, praise, forbidden relationship

🕸 word count: 2,567 words

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ☠︎︎ ༻⋆。 °⛧

“This is gonna be the last time, I swear.”

“You said that the last time we did this.” 

“Well… I just can’t help myself, especially not when you look like that. C’mon, take it off for me, sweetheart.” Jiung coaxed in a seductively low register, a smirk working its way onto his pretty face. His greedy eyes were glued to his phone screen, following your every move from behind his wispy black bangs. 

What can he say? He really couldn’t help himself. Phone in one hand, the other inching towards his crotch, the urge to rub himself in search of sweet, sweet relief was too strong to fight off. So he didn’t – Jiung simply gave in to the temptation, diving head first into his desire for you.

The past hour had been pure torture. Not only was he absolutely swamped at work with unrealistic deadlines, but he also had to force himself to stay awake for the weekly government broadcast at the assembly hall. Jiung didn’t understand why they made it compulsory viewing every Friday – the content was repeated every week: stay within your factions, don’t interact with outsiders and abide by the curfew. For all he cared, the drawling voice could’ve been speaking in an entirely different language and he wouldn’t even have noticed. 

Not when you were the sole centre of his attention; the only thought that preoccupied his mind.

It was forbidden – whatever this thing you had going on between the two of you, anyway. Neither of you had a clue what this was. Being from different factions meant the odds were never in your favour. From birth, no, from the moment you were conceived in your mothers’ wombs, you and Jiung lived completely different lives. You were from the upper class, and he was from the working class – the lowest rung of society’s ladder; the scum of the earth. You had all the riches and gold, and always dressed in pristine whites. You were the epitome of poise and purity. Jiung was always tainted in shades of dirt, murky browns and dusty greens. Everywhere he went, he carried the earthy stench of the forest, a byproduct of spending endless days chopping wood and farming land for the government – the very government your family helped to form.

He was beneath you, metaphorically and physically. Right now, you locked yourself in an abandoned bedroom, one of the many in your father’s mansion, far away from prying eyes and curious ears. Being the daughter of a high-ranking government official came in handy, especially for raunchy phone sex escapades with the most irresistible boy you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

The first time you made eye contact with Jiung was when he came to deliver wood for the fireplace in your father’s study. You felt an electric spark then – both of you did. The air was thick and heavy with tension. And let’s just say you definitely felt an unmistakable wetness pool at your nether regions from watching him lift and chop big chunks of wood like they were weightless. It made you wonder how he would manhandle you in bed too…

You threw the phone onto the four poster bed before launching yourself at the mattress, obscuring the phone camera with a view of your chest that had Jiung salivating from the other end of the line. “Do you think they’ll know?” You mused, spreading yourself out and getting comfortable.

Jiung scoffed. Of course you were stalling – you were an upper class girl with all the time in the world to enjoy life’s simplest pleasures. Him, a humble forest boy, did not have the same privileges. As they always say, time is money. And right now, while he’d love to entertain your musings, he really had to get back to work soon. The forest had to be cleared and the trees were not going to chop themselves.

Plus, he was starting to get impatient. That’s what spending one whole hour eye fucking each other across the hall did to him, he supposed – him, a mere nobody amongst the crowd, and you, standing on the assembly stage, looking down at the commoners like the charming, law-abiding bureaucrat you were raised to be. Oh, if only people knew what went on behind the (smoke)screens. “I doubt it. These phones are ancient, none of the current systems will know how to break the encryption. But we’ll never know for sure – they’re always watching, Y/N.”

You hummed in response, lips curling into a devious smile. You liked that thought. “Then let’s give them a show.”

“That’s what we always do, baby. Now hurry, I’ve waited long enough.”

“What’s the magic word, Jiung?”

Blood rushed towards his cock at the way your saccharine voice wrapped around the syllables of his name. He imagined the same lips, oh so pink and kissable, wrapping around something else of his instead. “Quick, we don’t have time! You always do this, I need to go soon.”

“Always so impatient.” You tsked in feigned disapproval, but deep down, you liked it. You liked how Jiung couldn’t get enough of you, how he needed you so desperately, like a burning desire within him that could never be satiated. Even after ending every video call with a promise to never watch each other cum ever again, he always came running back to you, begging to watch you touch yourself. To him, nothing could beat watching you get off on him and his voice.

“Your shirt, Y/N.” Jiung insisted, voice firm and hard. Almost as firm and hard as his thick cock, straining against the confines of his dirt-stained work pants. 

Your pussy pulsed in response, leaking helplessly at his harsh command. After all, as the darling daughter of the most respected upper class family, you were raised to obey orders. You were always a good girl, and always eager to please. You propped the phone up against the pillow and got on your knees for Jiung, ensuring that your upper half was within the frame. With a sultry grin, you dragged your hands up your body, shivering when your fingers came into contact with your stiff nipples.

“Y/N,” He warned dangerously, but you liked playing games. His words fell on deaf ears as you kept playing with yourself, maintaining the slow pace. “Why would you even forget your bra? You like that everyone can see your nipples, huh? Is that it? Slut.”

“Yes, Jiung. I’m your slut.” You moaned, fingers pinching your buds through the thin fabric of your collared button-down. You were a good girl, but you loved bending the rules every now and then, with and for Jiung. And Jiung loved that he tainted you, the girl who embodied innocence and purity. He loved that he stained your whiteness with his dirtiness, like how he dreamed of painting your soft, supple skin with his hot cum.

Jiung cursed under his breath, and you heard him fumbling on the other end of the line. He scrambled to get his bottoms off and sighed in relief when his heavy cock was released. “Go on, what are you waiting for? Touch yourself for me.”

A dark, twisted part of you loved being spoken to in that way. The tension that built up from having to stand still in front of everyone while Jiung undressed you with his eyes got you all worked up. Now, it already felt like a release to take off your clothes and shed the persona you were forced to put on for the rest of the world. Because you knew when Jiung called you like this, you were reduced to nothing more than his girl; his slut. 

So you did as you were told and spread your legs on either side of the phone. You wore a maxi skirt that went all the way to your ankles to remain modest, but you couldn’t imagine what others would say if they saw you exposing your skin, let alone flashing your wet panties to Jiung, of all people, on the other side of the call. 

“Shit, you’re soaking, Y/N. So wet and we haven’t even got started…” Jiung mumbled, head spinning at the wet spot on your lacy white panties. His finger thumbed over an identical stain on his boxers, teasing himself as he spread the precum around his tip.

“It’s because you always look at me like that…” You whined, hands itching to touch your centre. But you knew better than that; you knew to wait for his instructions.

“Like what?” He smirked cockily. 

“Like you want to eat me up.”

“So what if I do? Hmm?” He hummed in response. “You know I’d do anything to eat your sweet pussy, my love.”

You moaned desperately, body heating up at his choice of words. “Jiung…”

“My sweet girl… Go ahead, touch yourself over your panties.”

You obeyed, lips parting in a sigh as your fingers came in contact with your centre. You placed pressure against your hole and felt yourself clench around nothing. Oh, you would give anything and everything to have his calloused fingers inside your gummy walls instead. But alas, it would never happen.

So you settled with this instead. Having his addictive voice guide you to completion over the phone was better than not having him at all. “Push your panties aside for me, yes, that’s it. Put a finger in.” Jiung instructed. He released a breathy moan when his fingers wrapped around his length and began stroking himself.

Your middle finger slipped inside your entrance easily given how soaked you were. It was a relief – small, but a relief nonetheless. You pumped your fingers in and out, maintaining a steady pace. From the corner of your eye, you could make out Jiung’s handsome face contorting in pleasure as he stroked his cock, matching your pace.

“How does it feel? Tell me, baby.” He breathes out, always a sucker for your strained voice and soft whispers.

“Good…” You trailed off, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. “Ah, but I wish it was your fingers inside…” You whined.

Jiung grunted in reply to your whiny cries, increasing his pace. “So do I, baby. Been thinking about stuffing your tight pussy with my fingers all day. I’d get you all stretched and ready for my cock. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes!” You cried desperately.

“I know you would, my little slut. Everyone thinks you’re such a good girl, but look at you now. What do you think they’d say? Put another finger in for me, go on.”

You obliged willingly, breath hitching at the feeling of being stretched further. Jiung was hypnotised, his eager eyes glued to the phone screen to watch your walls stretch and accommodate an additional finger. He couldn’t help but imagine replacing your fingers with his throbbing length and thrusting deep inside, over and over and over again until you both reached your climaxes. He loved tainting you; loved ruining the perfect image that the world sees of you.

“Jiung…” Your soft voice pulled him out of his trance. “Wanna see you, please…”

He knew exactly what you were asking for. He lifted up his shirt and angled the phone upwards, giving you the most delectable view of his thick girth and the numerous tattoos littered on his skin. You watched, transfixed, core pulsating as he stroked his cock hurriedly, harsh pants leaving his parted lips.

“How’s the view?” Jiung questioned with a handsome smirk on his face. 

You hummed in approval. “You’re so hot, Jiung.” 

“Right back at you, sweetheart. One more finger, c’mon. You know you can do it.”

Your lips fell apart in choked moans when you added the third finger. It could barely fit. You felt so full.

“God, you’re taking them so well. Doing so good, baby. Are you close?”

You nodded, cheeks flushed at the wet sounds your cunt made as you pumped your fingers in and out. 

“Me too. Rub your clit, yes… Good girl, just like that.”

“Jiung! Jiung, I’m close, Jiung…” Your mind was flooded with thoughts of Jiung and Jiung only, as you chanted his name repeatedly like a sacred prayer. You were so close, rubbing quickly to chase your release. 

“Yes, Y/N, so good, you’re doing so well for me.” Jiung moaned, mirroring your actions. He was running his mouth and babbling at this point. “Want to cum in your tight pussy and fill you up. I’ll stuff you full of my cum, put your panties back on and make you keep it inside… The world needs to know who you belong to.”

“You, Jiung! I belong to you, only you!”

“Fuck!” He swore, not expecting you to say something like this. It was so intimate – you took him completely by surprise. It was like a switch flipped inside him. The next thing he knew, his orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks and he was cumming messily all over himself. 

Watching his cum leak out in hot spurts made your walls clench tightly on your fingers. The image of him reaching his climax threw you over the edge, pleasure coursing deliciously through your veins as you reached your sweet release. 

It was intense this time, more intense than any of the previous calls. Even though you weren’t in the same room, you could feel the air had shifted. 

You both took a moment to compose yourself, to steady your breaths and heartbeats. But just as you were about to break the silence, you heard footsteps approaching the room.

“Damn it, I have to go.” You stared at him, panicked, yet your expression was uncertain and conflicted, like you were experiencing a whole range of emotions in a matter of seconds. 

Jiung was staring so intently at you, waiting for you to say goodbye and end the call. But why did he feel so reluctant this time? 

“I –” He started.

But you cut him off. “Sorry. See you, Jiung.”

You ended the call. For a few seconds, you just stared at the black screen, selfishly allowing yourself to imagine what life would be like if you could be with him in person, and not just through a phone screen. 

And then you realised that today was Friday, and the maids were out looking for you to get you ready and all dolled up for dinner at the government house. Instead of returning the phone to its usual resting place under the pillow, you pocketed it for a change. You weren’t too sure why, but your gut was telling you it was the right thing to do.

You ended the call. For a long time, Jiung just stared at the black screen, selfishly allowing himself to imagine what life would be like if he could call you his, and not just through a phone screen. His lower body and tattoos were still covered in cum, and he curses into the darkness when he realises…

“I think I’m in love with you.” He whispered, his words drifting off into the endless void between the two of you.

[7:49pm] jiung: sent a photo.

[7:51pm] jiung: can’t stop thinking about you

[7:51pm] jiung: i need you so bad, please y/n…

[7:51pm] y/n: me too, i want you inside me

[7:51pm] y/n: you can use the maid’s entrance. i’ll sneak out of this dinner, meet me in 20

[synity]

pleaaaase write about woozi having a partner who is soft and sweet…and they tend to get into trouble or accidents because they are too kind and good for this world?

am i even making sense? 😭 (i personally think the longer the better (like it doesn’t have to be just one scenario haha)…but please do write it how long or short you want it to be)

ps I love your writing and I love fluff💗

Thanks!

Sunshine & Sunshine protector

(Lee Jihoon x FemReader)

*Slice of life, fluff, Romance, Soft, Comfort, Gentle Intimacy Emotional support, vunerability, Emotional Drama, Healing, Intimate Domestic*

The first time Woozi met his partner, he already knew they were different. Not in a flashy or striking way but in the quiet, unshakeable gentleness that surrounded them like a soft glow.

They had a heart too big for this world.

It was a Sunday morning, sunlight slipping softly through the thin curtains, dappling the small apartment in warm gold. Woozi stirred, blinking awake, and immediately felt the familiar weight of his partner curled against him, breath soft and steady on his chest.

her fingers lazily twined, a silent communication that said more than words could. Slowly, his partner’s eyes opened, still heavy with sleep, and she smiled at Woozi, sleepy and sweet.

“Good morning,” Woozi whispered, voice thick with affection.

“Morning,” she replied softly, voice like a lullaby.

she shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Woozi’s waist as if they never wanted to let go. Woozi breathed in their scent something fresh, like morning rain and lavender and smiled.

“How did you sleep?” he asked, brushing a stray lock of hair behind their ear.

“Better now,” she murmured, resting their head on his shoulder.

For a while, they just stayed like that a tangled heap of limbs and warmth letting the quiet fill the room. The small things mattered most here: the gentle squeeze of a hand, the brush of a nose, the peacefulness of shared silence.

His partner’s kindness wasn’t just a trait; it was a force of nature. And sometimes, that force pulled them into trouble.

One afternoon, Woozi was in the studio, scribbling down melodies, when his phone buzzed insistently.

It was a message from her: “Please come home. Emergency.”

His heart immediately tightened. He grabbed his jacket and rushed home.

When he arrived, he found his partner sitting on the porch steps, clothes smudged with dirt, a scrape on their elbow, and a small, frightened kitten clutched in their arms.

“I found her stuck under the dumpster,” she said quietly, eyes shining with concern. “I couldn’t leave her there.”

Woozi sighed, half exasperated, half amused.

“You’re going to wear yourself out with these rescue missions,” he said gently.

“I can’t help it,” she whispered. “How could I leave her?”

He knelt beside them, taking the kitten into his hands to check it. “You have a heart too big for your own good.”

she smiled weakly.

“And that’s why I have you,” they said.

Their mornings were rarely dull, especially when they cooked together.

One rainy Saturday, the two of them decided to bake cookies, the smell of rain tapping against the windows and the warm scent of vanilla filling the kitchen.

But true to form, their partner’s sweet nature caused the usual chaos.

They insisted on sharing cookies with every delivery person who passed by their door.

Woozi chuckled, watching as their partner bundled up a small bag of treats, waving goodbye to the courier outside.

Inside, flour was everywhere on counters, on their noses, even in their hair. Their partner giggled as Woozi tried to catch flying dough balls, slipping and almost falling.

“Be careful!” Woozi warned, laughing.

“Where’s the fun in being careful all the time?” they teased, nudging him with a flour-covered elbow.

Despite the mess, Woozi loved these moments the way her laughter bounced around the small space, how her eyes lit up with joy at the simplest pleasures.

But beneath her bright smile and boundless kindness lay a vulnerability Woozi rarely saw.

One night, as the city’s lights flickered below their balcony, Woozi found his partner sitting alone, knees drawn to their chest, gaze distant.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked softly, sitting beside them.

They hesitated before whispering, “Sometimes I wonder if I’m too much. If my kindness just makes me weak.”

Woozi’s heart clenched.

“You’re not weak,” he said firmly, turning to face them. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

“But I keep getting hurt… and I’m afraid I’ll break.”

He reached out, taking her hand gently. “Then let me be your strength. You don’t have to carry the world alone.”

Tears shimmered in their eyes, and Woozi pulled them close, holding them until the fear faded.

Woozi’s love was in the details the way he always made sure his partner had a warm cup of tea after a long day, the soft hand on their back when they needed comfort, the quiet presence beside them during sleepless nights.

One evening, when his partner was exhausted from helping a friend in need, Woozi noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the tremble in their voice.

He cooked her favorite soup, carrying the bowl to the couch where she sat, wrapped in a blanket.

“Eat,” he urged, spooning the warm broth into their mouth.

she smiled gratefully. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

“I just want to take care of you,” Woozi replied.

Not every moment was tender; sometimes they teased each other mercilessly.

One afternoon, Woozi found his partner attempting to fix the sink with absolutely no plumbing knowledge.

Water sprayed everywhere, soaking Woozi’s shirt.

“Seriously?” he groaned.

she laughed, water dripping from their hair. “I’m trying!”

Woozi shook his head, grabbing the wrench. “Leave it to the professional.”

she pouted, but the sparkle in her eyes was unmistakable.

“You’ll always have to rescue me, won’t you?”

“Every time,” Woozi said, pulling her into a playful hug.

After a small concert, Woozi surprised everyone including his partner by publicly acknowledging their relationship.

Taking the microphone, he spoke softly but clearly.

“This is my partner. The kindest person I know, who teaches me every day what love really means.”

His partner blushed deeply, hiding in his side, while the audience cheered.

Later, Woozi teased, “See? I’m not so shy when it comes to you.”

she laughed, squeezing his hand.

Sometimes, when the world was quiet, they shared their deepest thoughts.

One night, wrapped in blankets on the balcony, Woozi asked, “What scares you most?”

his partner hesitated.

“Losing myself. Or losing the people I love.”

Woozi kissed their forehead.

“You’ll never lose me.”

“And I’ll never stop trying to be better, for us.”

He smiled, heart full.

One lazy Sunday, as they lounged in bed, Woozi asked, “Where do you see us in five years?”

she thought carefully.

“A home filled with laughter, music, maybe a few cats.”

Woozi grinned. “Cats, huh?”

“Yes, definitely cats.”

He laughed, pulling her closer.

“We’ll build that life. Together.”

Their life wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But it was real, filled with love, tenderness, and the kind of kindness that changed everything.

And through it all, Woozi promised to be the steady hand, the safe place, the unwavering love that their partner deserved.

Because sometimes, being too kind for this world just means needing someone who will never let you fall.

It was a sunny afternoon, and Woozi's partner, Y/N, decided to take a leisurely stroll through the bustling city park. The laughter of children and the chirping of birds created a harmonious backdrop. As Y/N walked, she noticed a small boy, no older than four, standing alone near the fountain, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Y/N approached gently, kneeling to meet his gaze. "Hey there, are you okay? Where's your mommy?"

The boy sniffled, "I can't find her."

Concerned, Y/N took his hand. "Let's find her together, okay?"

They began walking through the park, Y/N asking nearby adults if they recognized the child. After several minutes, a frantic woman spotted them and rushed over, her face a mix of relief and fury.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, pulling the boy into her arms. Then, turning to Y/N, her expression darkened. "What were you doing with my son? Were you trying to kidnap him?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "No! He was lost, and I was helping him find you."

But the mother wasn't convinced. She called the police, accusing Y/N of attempting to abduct her child

Within minutes, police officers arrived, separating Y/N and the mother to hear both sides. Y/N explained the situation calmly, emphasizing their concern for the child's safety. Witnesses corroborated Y/N's account, noting their efforts to find the boy's mother.

After reviewing the evidence and speaking with all parties, the officers concluded it was a misunderstanding. They advised the mother to be more vigilant and apologized to Y/N for the distress caused.

Later that evening, Y/N recounted the incident to Woozi, tears welling up in her eyes. "I was just trying to help, but she thought I was a kidnapper."

Woozi pulled them into a comforting embrace. "I'm so sorry you went through that. Your heart is pure, and you did the right thing. Don't let this change who you are."

He held them close, offering solace and understanding, reinforcing his unwavering support.

In the days that followed, Y/N grappled with the incident's emotional aftermath. Woozi remained by their side, encouraging her to continue being kind but also to be cautious.

"Your compassion is one of the things I love most about you," he said. "But it's okay to set boundaries and protect yourself too."

Together, they navigated the complexities of kindness in a world that sometimes misunderstood it, emerging stronger and more connected than ever.

The sun was shining softly through the wide city streets, casting warm golden hues on everything it touched. Y/N loved days like these quiet moments when the world felt calm, and even in the chaos of everyday life, there were little chances to help others. She wandered through the park, her heart always open to the small things: a stray cat needing water, an elderly person struggling with their bags, a lost child looking for comfort.

As she walked past a bench near the flower garden, Yn noticed an elderly woman shuffling slowly, a knitted bag hanging loosely from her arm. The woman’s steps faltered, and in the bustling movement of a passing crowd, the wallet she clutched slipped from her grasp and tumbled onto the sidewalk, landing with a soft thud on the concrete.

Yn’s heart immediately leapt. She crouched down quickly and picked it up, holding it carefully in both hands. “Excuse me, ma’am! You dropped this,” she called out, her voice gentle and warm.

The old woman turned sharply, eyes narrowing as she saw Yn holding the wallet. “What are you doing with my wallet?” she snapped, the tone icy and suspicious.

Yn smiled softly, trying to calm her. “I picked it up right away. I wanted to make sure you got it back.”

But the woman’s expression didn’t soften. Instead, it twisted into a scowl. “I don’t know who you are, girl, but you best not be trying anything funny.”

Y/N’s chest tightened. She could feel the sting of distrust, something she rarely encountered, especially when all she meant was to help. “I’m not trying anything,” she said quietly, stepping closer and extending the wallet toward the woman.

But the woman waved her off with a sharp motion. “Keep your hands to yourself,” she growled. “I don’t need some meddling young girl making my day worse.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed in confusion, but she kept her composure. “I just want to give this back. You dropped it.”

“Don’t ‘just want’ me, don’t ‘just want’ me, don’t come near me!” the woman spat suddenly, her voice rising and attracting the attention of nearby pedestrians.

Y/N’s heart sank. “Please, I’m only trying to help,” she said, taking a small step back, trying not to escalate the situation.

But the woman’s face was twisted with anger. “You think you’re better than me? Coming here with your fancy attitude, trying to play the hero? You’re nothing but a nosy troublemaker,” she hissed. “You don’t belong here, and I want you gone.”

Y/N blinked, shocked by the harsh words. The woman’s voice cracked as she continued, bitterness and frustration bubbling to the surface. “Who do you think you are, trying to fix everything? You’re just a foolish girl who thinks the world owes her something. But let me tell you nobody wants your help. Nobody needs you.”

Tears pricked Y/N’s eyes, but she swallowed them down. She wasn’t used to being spoken to like this especially by someone she tried so hard to care for. But the woman wasn’t done.

“You’re just another spoiled kid with your bright eyes and soft heart, thinking you can save everyone but yourself,” the woman sneered. “Maybe if you spent less time interfering and more time minding your own business, you’d get somewhere in life.”

The crowd around them grew uneasy. A few people glanced over, but no one stepped forward to stop the verbal attack.

Y/N’s hands trembled as she clutched the wallet tighter. Her throat felt dry, and a quiet ache settled deep in her chest. She had never wanted anything more than to be kind, to make a small difference in someone’s day, but here she was facing sharp words and cold rejection.

“I... I just wanted to help,” she whispered, voice barely audible, fragile like a glass ready to shatter.

The woman sneered one last time and turned away, muttering curses under her breath as she shuffled off down the street.

Yn stood there for a moment, stunned and hollow. The weight of those words pressed on her like a stone, heavy and cruel. Yet, somewhere deep inside, the part of her that always saw the good the hope still flickered quietly.

She looked down at the wallet in her hands, still hers to return, and sighed softly.

Helping sometimes came with pain, but it never stopped being worth it.

Y/N swallowed hard, the weight of the insult sinking deep inside her. “I only wanted to help,” she said again, voice breaking.

The woman turned abruptly and began to walk away, muttering curses under her breath, leaving Y/N standing alone with the wallet in her hands.

For a moment, Yn just stood there, numb. The bright sunshine felt too harsh, the crowd’s eyes too heavy. She looked down at the wallet and then out into the street, wondering why kindness so often felt like a burden.

One man in the crowd a middle-aged passerby shook his head sadly and muttered to his companion, “That poor girl. Just trying to do the right thing.”

A young woman nearby clenched her fists, clearly upset by the scene. “Some people just don’t deserve kindness,” she said softly, tears in her own eyes.

Y/N heard their whispers but felt distant from them, like she was underwater. The sting of the woman’s words echoed louder than any voice around her.

As she walked slowly away, the wallet still clutched in her hand, Y/N’s mind replayed every moment, every harsh word, every glance.

She remembered how much she had always believed that a small act of kindness could change someone’s day, even their life. But now she wondered if some hearts were too closed, too bruised to ever see the light she wanted to share.

Yet, beneath the ache, a quiet resolve began to bloom.

She would keep being kind.

She would keep trying.

Because maybe one day, someone else would need her and she hoped someone would be there for her, too.

With one last glance at the wallet, Y/N took a deep breath, wiped her tears away, and stepped forward into the afternoon sun.

The morning light seeped softly through the curtains as Yn sat curled up on the couch, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her sweater. The memory of the old woman’s harsh words lingered like a storm cloud above her heart. She had only tried to help only tried to do what felt right yet all she’d gotten was anger and humiliation. Her cheeks still stung from the cruel insults, and her spirit felt bruised.

Woozi’s footsteps echoed softly through the apartment, and before she could say anything, he was kneeling beside her, his warm hand covering hers like a silent promise that she wasn’t alone. His eyes searched hers, calm and steady.

“Talk to me,” he said quietly, voice gentle but insistent.

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat, then exhaled slowly. “I just… I wanted to help. She dropped her wallet, and I tried to pick it up and give it back to her. But she looked at me like I was a thief. She yelled, insulted me… said things I never thought someone would say.”

Woozi’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a soothing hug.

“Sometimes,” he murmured, “people lash out not because of who you are, but because of their own fears and pain. That doesn’t make it okay, but it doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.”

Yn closed her eyes against the sting of tears. “But what if I’m just… too kind for this world? What if my kindness just invites trouble?”

He smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Your kindness is your strength, even when it feels like a burden. And I’m here, always, to keep you safe from the trouble that comes your way.”

She leaned into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart and the unspoken promise in his presence. “I don’t want to stop being kind, even if it hurts sometimes.”

“You won’t have to,” he said, voice full of conviction. “Because I’ll be by your side your protector, your partner. No matter what storms come, we’ll face them together.”

For a long moment, silence wrapped around them, comforting and warm. Y/N let the tears fall freely now, the weight in her chest easing just a little.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He kissed her forehead, soft and tender. “Always.”

Later that afternoon, the sunlight poured through the kitchen window as Woozi stood behind Y/N, his arms wrapped gently around her waist. She was focused on chopping vegetables for dinner, humming a soft tune, but his presence made her smile without looking.

“You know,” Woozi whispered, brushing his lips against her temple, “you’re probably the only person I know who gets into trouble just by being nice.”

Y/N chuckled, glancing up at him with sparkling eyes. “Well, trouble seems to follow me like a shadow.”

He tightened his hold, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck. “Maybe that’s because the world doesn’t deserve someone as kind as you.”

“Or maybe I’m just too much of a softie,” she teased, pretending to be annoyed.

“Softie or not, I’m lucky to have you,” Woozi murmured, his voice thick with affection. “Let’s make tonight a promise no trouble, just us.”

Y/N nodded, leaning back into him. “Deal.”

They cooked together in perfect harmony her chopping and his stirring, occasional laughter bubbling up as they playfully bumped into each other. The kitchen filled with warmth and the scent of home.

Later, seated at the table, their hands found each other’s across the surface. In that quiet moment, no harsh words or accusations could reach them. There was only love steady, comforting, and true.

The next morning, the gentle hum of the city seeped through the slightly cracked window as sunlight draped the room in a soft glow. Yn was sitting cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a worn-out book while Woozi brewed their morning tea in the kitchen. The faint clink of the teapot on the stove was a comforting background to their quiet start.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Woozi said as he brought over two steaming cups, settling beside her.

Y/N glanced up, her eyes shimmering with a mix of amusement and something tender. “Just thinking. You know, after everything that happened yesterday…I’m glad you’re here.”

Woozi smiled softly, his hand finding hers. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Not while I’m around.”

Yn squeezed his hand, feeling that familiar warmth wash over her. “You’re always so protective.”

“I’m just being honest. You’re too precious to me.”

Her cheeks flushed as she shifted closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t say it enough, but thank you for sticking by me.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Always.”

Later that day, they decided to take a stroll in the park, wanting nothing more than simple moments away from the crowded chaos of everyday life. Y/N’s hand nestled perfectly in Woozi’s as they walked beneath towering trees, the leaves rustling softly with the breeze.

“Remember when you first told me you liked me?” Y/N asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Woozi chuckled quietly. “I was such a nervous mess. Could barely look at you.”

“Yeah, I remember. You kept hiding behind your notebook.”

He laughed at the memory, eyes sparkling. “Well, I still get a little shy around you.”

Y/N stopped walking and tugged him gently until he faced her. “You don’t have to be shy. I like you just the way you are.”

His smile deepened, and before she could blink, Woozi’s hands cupped her face. “I love you.”

Her heart skipped. “I love you too.”

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in the world they had built a world where kindness could exist alongside imperfections, where love was patient and steadfast.

One evening, while cooking dinner, Y/N accidentally knocked over a jar of spices, the pungent scent filling the kitchen. Frustrated, she sighed and started cleaning it up, but Woozi wasn’t having any of it.

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, setting down the cutting board and coming over to wrap his arms around her waist from behind. “It’s just a little spill.”

Yn leaned back into him, letting out a shaky laugh. “I’m just so clumsy sometimes.”

“Not clumsy,” he said, turning her gently to face him. “Perfectly human. And perfectly mine.”

She smiled, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. “You make me feel like I’m enough.”

“That’s because you are.”

Days like these were the quiet anchors in their lives small moments stitched together to remind them both of what really mattered. The world could throw all the trouble and misunderstandings it wanted, but here, in each other’s arms, they found peace.

The room was dim, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Yn lay curled up under the blanket, her mind swirling with worry and exhaustion from the day’s events. Woozi watched her quietly, his heart aching to see her so tired yet still pushing herself nonstop.

He reached out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Y/N,” he whispered softly, his voice a balm in the stillness.

She blinked up at him, eyes heavy but attentive.

“Please,” he said, his hand brushing over her cheek with the lightest touch. “Put yourself first…Please?”

Yn opened her mouth to protest, but Woozi silenced her with a tender kiss slow and sweet, a promise more than just words. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close until their bodies fit perfectly together.

“You don’t always have to carry the world,” he murmured against her hair. “Let me carry you for a while.”

Y/N’s eyes shimmered with tears she refused to shed. She nodded, resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“Goodnight, my love,” Woozi whispered.

Goodnight,” she breathed, feeling safe and cherished, ready to let go if only for a moment.

And with that, they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s warmth, the quiet hum of their love filling the night.

[meowrimo]

⟡ — MDNI. zoro roronoa x reader ; pussydrunk!zoro, zoro calls reader baby. from the drafts + dividers by cafekitsune. — WC : 496

“go slow.” you whisper, as you watch his leaky tip nudge its way between your glistening folds, fiendishly pulsing against your entrance and barely pushing in. zoro was big — thick, you knew you’d feel the stretch regardless of how many times he’s had you like this.

“i will.” his voice rasps against your ear, lips sloppily gliding along the slope of your neck before he pulls himself back up. zoro’s body was almost trembling as it fills itself with an impatient need. but he’d try to be good for you and curb his urges. surely he had more self control than that. “you ready?”

you nod, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders as he presses in, slowly, steadily slipping into you. zoro lets out a low guttural groan, shivers of ecstasy shooting down his spine as he tumbles forward, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

zoro’s mind falls blank, drowning in pleasure as your heavenly cunt greedily sucks him in. the faint promise he made earlier becomes a distant memory, floating away with the rest of his common sense as he shoves himself deeper into you.

“aah!” you yelp, legs tightly wrapping around his waist, almost beckoning him to push in deeper despite your next words. “i said go slow.”

he pauses for a moment, almost bottomed out — he swears he can taste it, the way you clench around him, unintentionally begging him not to stop. everything in him screams to keep going, to unleash all the passion he has for you, all the love he carries in his heart — the one you claimed for your own.

“c’mon, you can take it for me baby, right?” his voice is low, seeping into your skin and settling somewhere deep between your bones. “just like always, yeah?”

and you do, just like always.

because when zoro fucks, his animal instincts take over, brain reverting into some sort of primal being. not to say he doesn’t take care of you, he does, but he can’t stop rutting into you, addicted to the sinful way you feel when you’re wrapped around him — cock pulsing in time with his racing heartbeat.

it’s exhilarating, overwhelming. he just keeps going and can’t stop, desperately holding onto one of life’s most simplest forms of pleasure. his balls tighten, abdomen coils and yet he can’t stop pounding into your tight cunt.

it’s impossible to when you’re safely tucked under his broad body and gazing up at him with such affection that never fails to make his hips stutter. his dick stirs all over again when he sees your lashes brim with unshed tears — little droplets of devotion as you take everything he has to give you.

with an almost involuntary snap of his hips, the cycle begins anew, and the two of you are swept away in the throes of ardor. losing yourselves in a frenzy of desire, where time ceases to exist and all that matters is each other.

[dredgesnails]

the clockers are great because pretending to be a toxic family with your friends is one of life’s greatest and simplest pleasures. even kids like to play house. i had a dinner party with my friends once and we roleplayed a toxic suburban family and the vibes were like, almost identical to the clockers’ family dinner

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Top "Glow Up" Tips & Habits To Become The Best Version of Yourself

Prioritize the Holy Trinity: Nutrition, Movement, & Sleep. Following a whole-foods, plant-based diet with vegetables and/or fruit at every meal and limiting processed foods is one of the simplest ways to improve your overall health. Drink plenty of water, have any necessary supplements (like vitamin B12, vitamin D, omega 3s, etc.), and reduce your consumption of sugary, alcoholic, or caffeine-loaded beverages. Try to incorporate at least 30 minutes of walking and/or a simple 15-20 workout into your everyday routine. Make getting a full night's rest (usually 7-9 hours for most people) a non-negotiable in your life.

Practice Radical Self-Acceptance. Fully embrace your personal values. Get comfortable with your authentic desires. Define and set goals for yourself in every area of your life.

Nourish Your Body, Mind, and Spirit Consistently. Eat a healthful diet (enough food without overstuffing yourself), sleep and move enough throughout the day, and continue learning and educating yourself on current events, your industry/career field, art, culture, history, world languages, etc. Practice mindfulness and self-care activities. Honoring your sexual needs. Giving yourself at least one rest/reset day per week.

Cultivate Sustainable (and Personally-Fulfilling) Routines. Your sleep schedule, work/school schedule, workout schedule throughout the week, social and self-care time, date nights, time for your hobbies, errands, cleaning, and relaxation. Make appointments with yourself to empower you to fulfill all your daily tasks and activities to ensure you can work and play without burning yourself out in the process.

Set Boundaries. With your friends, family, work-life/professional network, romantic and sexual partners, and yourself. Understand your emotional, physical, and energetic limitations. Communicate them clearly, compassionately, and unapologetically. Cut toxic people out of your life. Avoid codependency like the plague. Nurture your healthy and supportive interdependent relationships regularly.

Learn What You Enjoy. Ensure To Incorporate These Products, Routines, and Relationships Into Your Day. It can be a piece of dark chocolate and a favorite T.V. show, a long evening phone call with a loved one, a hot bubble bath, or any other small luxury that gives you genuine pleasure and adds some necessary joy to your day.

Check In With Yourself Regularly. Pivot When Necessary. Self-improvement, goal setting, relationship building, and cultivating unshakeable self-love/life satisfaction takes time, experimentation, trial and error, and tons of self-reflection before you get it right in any area of your life. Be honest with yourself on what's work, what's not, where to remain consistent, and what areas of your life would benefit from a change.

[kissingmensbiceps]

Thinking about college tutor! Kento Nanami who helps you stay on track, especially right before the holidays and upcoming finals. You being incredibly stressed about all the exams and cramming in study time, on top of your regular tutoring sessions at the library. Of course, Nanami takes notice of your lack of concentration, seeing how emotionally drained you are from the endless amount of homework, flash cards, reading, and all around studying, that seems to do nothing but suck the last bit of life out of you. So he suggests an idea that could totally benefit the both of you!

That’s how your usual study session in the library moved into your dorm room, very convenient that your roommate was not there because she would’ve had to deal with the obnoxious sound of pages flipping and fingers tapping on your keyboard, not to mention the sounds of pleasure from your lips as Nanami’s cock slipped so deliciously in and out of your velvety walls.

Knees cramped up to the side of your face in a mating press, his girth pumping into you so slowly that it made you yearn for more, but he didn’t go faster, much to your displeasure.

Nanami kissed the corner of your lips when he sees a tear slip delicately down your cheek. “Aw, don’t cry, baby. Be good for me, n’ i’ll go faster.” He cooed into your ear as your fingers gripped his broad shoulders. “Now tell me . . . What does DNA stand for?” Breath hot against your cheek as you create crescents into his skin.

“I-I don’t know.” You whimper out, brain too foggy to even remember the simplest of things. You gasp when you suddenly feel empty, the warmth of his cock gone when he pulls out abruptly. “What’re you doing?” Your eyes are glossy with unshed tears, already missing the full feeling his cock gave you.

“You do remember, and you will remember.” His tone his firm, making you feel little underneath him. “Now answer my question, sweetheart. What does DNA stand for?”

You cry out once you answer correctly, little praises being whispered in your ear as he pushes his length back into your hot and soppy cunt, strong biceps obstructing your view from both sides.

He ruts into you at a slightly higher pace, but it’s still not enough to hit that spongy, aching spot deep inside you. You need more.

But the only way that’s gonna happen is if you answer the questions correctly, isn’t that right, baby?

So Nanami grunts out questions, which you can recall to the times previously that had been gone over time and time again during sessions in the library with him. Mind flashing back to all the readings, all the papers, and all the flash cards you had been through over the last few weeks.

Crying out answers through fat tears that sat on the edge of your eyes, just begging for more. And each time you got a question correct, he would up the ante, pounding deep into your mushy hole, filling you up oh so nice.

A correct answer? A twirl of your nipple in between his fingers. Another correct answer? A praising “good girl” and an extra deep thrust into your cunt. Oh! Another correct answer? You are doing just such a good job! Cream all over his dick, baby, it’s okay.

Soft kisses to your wet mouth, swallowing your cries as you cum all over his cock, giving you a few good extra thrusts before releasing his own into your sticky pussy. The room humid and smell of sex in the air, hopefully to be aired out before your roomie gets back. Chests heaving, breaths mixing together after he gives you one last lazily, slow kiss to your puffy lips as a way of saying, “good job.” And best of all, you got through almost all the questions on your flash cards!

Let’s just say you passed all your finals with flying colors! :)

[rauferes]

I've posted another installment of my vaginismus!Rook series! Teaser:

***

“Good morning,” Emmrich said, nuzzling her. “I let you sleep in as much as I could bear.”

The sound of his voice, still rough from waking, sent a thrill down her spine.

He sensed the shift in her body—he was too damned perceptive at times—and gave her hip a squeeze.

“And how promising a morning it is becoming,” Emmrich murmured into her ear, low and playful. “I’d wager five rare tomes you’re already wet, aren’t you, darling?”

If she hadn’t been before, the way his voice caressed the words ensured she was now.

“Maybe,” Rook admitted with embarrassment.

His cock stirred, and Rook’s breath hitched. Emmrich smiled wickedly against her neck.

“It’s not my fault if you say things in that tone,” Rook tried to defend herself. “It’s practically the same thing as bedroom eyes, and you know it.”

“If you say so, my dear,” Emmrich purred.

As if he doesn’t know exactly what he's doing.

“I’m such an easy mark,” Rook sighed, giving up on salvaging her dignity. “Worse than a teenage boy—there’s no sport to it. Is it even any fun to tease me?”

“Always,” Emmrich said fondly.

He tugged her hips closer, and Rook’s breath caught again at his easy, casual strength. Lips brushed the back of her neck, gentle and unhurried, unerringly finding her most sensitive spots.

“The greatest pleasures in life are often the simplest,” Emmrich said, so close to her ear that she could feel his breath. A shiver ran down Rook’s spine.

***

This chapter, which can be read as a standalone, can be found here.

To start at the beginning, go here.

@redheadsramblings @strugglinggranola @growing-magic @xanguissettex @thepalehorsevictoria come and get it ���@aldisobey you may enjoy this one too 😉

[gothmothgoblin]

hello amanda. in the shoe caddie to your left you will find 6 identical pairs of sneakers. One pair is rigged with a device that will produce a small ‘squeak’ noise when pressure is applied. the other five pairs, however, are regular,, lifeless shoes. and no such squeak will occur.

will you leave mcdonald with a little more pep in your step? or will you be deprived one of life’s simplest, squeakiest pleasures?

choose wisely amanda. the clock is ticking.

[rosaeh]

❦ jason «if i loved you less, i might be able to talk about it more. i lack the words to express my love for you but, please, let me show you. » todd

he cannot tell you how much you mean to him, the solace he finds in you. but he hopes his actions show you enough.

❦

more often than not, jason unfortunately finds himself not being able to speak up his feelings for you.

he used to resent himself for this. for not being able to truly show you how much he loves you, how much you improved his life.

before realising that, maybe, the only reason he couldn't find the words for it was because he felt too much. maybe if he couldn't speak it up, it was not because he lacked the words for it, but because there was no word meaningful enough to describe his utter love for you.

he wished a single word could wrap it all up. all his love for you, all his longing. the way he feels you within his very soul.

his heart is beating for you. you're the first — and only — thing it has beaten for in a while.

but he cannot show you. he cannot rip his chest open and show you the beating of his heart — no matter how much he wants to. so he has to settle with taking your hand in his, put it above his heart, and let you feel it — all while he has the great pleasure of keeping his gaze fixed on your face.

maybe jason couldn't voice his love for you, but he sure could show it. after all, actions do speak louder than words. and he finally understands why.

when he cannot express how grateful he is that you always wait for him to come home, he'd wrap his arms around you, and hold you close, as if he could merge his body with yours.

and when you come home from a tiring day, he'd have you resting your head on his lap, one of his hands holding yours while the other hoover over your face, caressing your features in such a delicate way. each caress holds his love for you. the one he cannot express. he loves you. he wishes he could take away your tiredness. you're everything to him, and he'd be willing to do anything for you. so he keeps you close, watching over you and appreciating how safe you look in his arms, while his fingertips trace the shape of your nose.

when he wakes up next to you, and is so struck by the sight of you by his side that he cannot even say the simplest words, he'd lean in and press kisses all over your face. he's not saying anything, but you understand. you know the meaning behind his kisses. he's grateful to have you by his side. grateful to have you with him, and he will never get tired of waking up next to you. no matter how long it's been this way. and he looks down at you with a fond gaze as he kisses your forehead.

he cannot voice the way you're always in his mind. how you're the only thought that ever crosses it. how dumb you make him. everything he encounters makes him think of you. but there are no words coming out of his mouth, and instead he brings these things home to you. he brings you this bouquet of your favourite flowers he saw while walking past the flower shop. he brings you this book he thought you'd like. he sends you picture too. no caption. but when you see the pictures, you know. this made me think of you — when do i not ? and you ? you keep these things close. you dry the flowers he brings you, read the book in one go, and put the pictures in a folder. "i love this man".

that's how he knows that, maybe, maybe, he's doing good enough. because that's all he wants, really. to do right by you. to give back to you all the love he feels in your presence. he wants to give you all that and so much more.

because if his words wrong him when it comes to expressing his love for you, he knows his actions don't.

[satoruxx]

I wanna feed gladiator!toji grapes while petting his hair and telling him that I love him 😭

HHHHHHH NONNIE STOP IM GONNA COMBUST!!!!!!

and the way gladiator!toji would swoon if you did !!!

like... he’s draped across one of the old seats down in the barracks, eyes lazily moving over your figure as you approach him. you sit next to him with a smile, and he’s already feeling too warm and too soft and it’s suffocating in the best way. he'll ask what you're doing down there when you should be up in your comfy castle, away from blood and gore and chaos. but you just throw him a semi disapproving glance, and sit down next to him.

so so close.

and when you pull out the bowl of grapes he does not admit how the sight of them makes him swallow. so unused to even the simplest taste of pleasure.

but ever since you wormed your way into his life that taste of pleasure has been so abundant—so freely given to someone so undeserving of it.

so he relents, leaning his head against your chest with a wry grin as you push a grape past his lips with a resounding laugh. the flavor is sweet and tart as it bursts against his tongue, and he finds it so utterly delicious it makes his head spin a little bit.

"is it that good?" you ask, peering down at him with eyes shining in amusement. the rich quality fabric of your clothes feels far too foreign against his scarred skin.

he thinks that he would give up his whole world if it meant he had even a chance to have a life with you.

"yeah," he nods, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers card through his shaggy hair. "perfect."

his own little slice of forbidden peace.

......WELL FUCK I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT HIMMMM!!!! you guys are fr feeding the brainrot i love gladiator!toji so fucking much i can't wait to write him :3333

ask about my wips !!