𑣲𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵

"𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢'𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟"

[angelmiira]

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 <𝟑 !!

⎯⎯ ⠀ ⠀ 𝒐𝒐𝒑𝒔 !

𓂃۶ৎ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥

𓏲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐣 . 𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 . 𝐦𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧. 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲. 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠. 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥-𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 — 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𓂃 ⊹

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

⟡ ݁ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐢'𝐦 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡, (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟) 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 <𝟑

₊ . —

[angelmiira]

Waterboy gets so whiny and pathetic whenever you give him a handjob.

He can't help it. You just make him feel soo good.

He whimpers, hips desperately bucking up to chase the friction of your hand. "I'm s-sorry—" he chokes out, even as he continues to push his cock through your fist.

"You—make me—feel so—nngh—!" He slaps a hand over his mouth, cheeks burning at the strangled little sound that keep spilling past his lips. "I'm sorry..!" he whines, back coming off the bed.

You smile, pressing your thumb over that sensitive little spot on the underside of his cock. "It's okay, Herm," you coo, changing your rhythm—going faster, holding him tighter.

His whole body jolts, stomach dipping inward. "Hah! N-no! I'm…! I'm gonna—" He breaks off on a strangled moan, his fingers curling in the bed sheets.

His mind is fuzzing around the corners, that sticky, unbearable heat in his stomach coiling tighter.

"You can cum," you murmur, pressing a single kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He whines, chasing your lips as you pull back. "Are—are you s-sure?"

He looks at you. Eyes half lidded. Glazed over, like your hand is the best thing he's had his whole life.

His dick is leaking, pearly little beads of precum leaking out and coating your hand. He's close. He's so, so close.

And your nod is the final push.

"Oh, go-god!" He tips his head back, ropes of cum shooting out his dick and painting your hand. His legs press together, toes curling hard as his orgasm crashes over him.

His skin buzzes, a low, dull ring filling his ears.

You work him through it, giving long, firm strokes until tears spring in the corner of his eyes.

"Wait…! Hahh..! F-Hnng—"

You give two more weak pumps before you finally pull your hand away, toying with the tiny little thatch of hair at the base of his cock.

"You okay?"

Waterboy gives a wobbly nod, instinctively leaning toward you, forehead brushing against your shoulder. It's almost like he's trying to hide in the warmth of your body.

"Y-yes. I'm… I'm okay. That—That was…" He presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. "That was amazing."

You slip your hand around his head and cradle him against your chest. "Yeah?"

He nods again, weaker this time, and you smile.

"You did so good, baby."

He lets out a quiet sound at the praise, nuzzling into you. "Thank you…"

[angelmiira]

Late nights ˚୨୧⋆｡˚

"You make the voices go quiet."

Rumi x Jinu

—

"This sucks," Rumi mutters to herself, scribbling out the new line for the tenth time. Her paper is a mess, dents and stains littering every inch of space.

It's gross.

The lyrics are usually Zoey's job. Actually, they're always Zoey's job. She's a natural.

But Rumi wants to try. Wants to contribute more than just her voice. All she does is show up, look all pretty, and sing. She could do more. She should do more.

Especially now.

She glances down at her arm, guilt twisting in her chest as she sees the patterns that decorate her skin. Mocking her. Taunting her. Reminding her of exactly what she is.

Rumi chews her lip, her eyes narrowing like her stare alone might will them away and fix everything.

"Careful. Might hurt yourself thinking so hard."

Rumi gasps, her eyes darting up toward her balcony door. Jinu. Of course.

She doesn't remember leaving the door open, but she can hardly care to recall whether or not she did when he's here right now. "It's rude not to knock, you' know?"

Jinu grins—that dizzying, cooked grin that she pretends to hate so much—and taps at the sliding door. "Happy?"

"It's a little too late now," Rumi scoffs, shifting in her bed as he saunters over to her like he owns the place. Like he owns her space. Maybe he does.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Rumi watches, brows quirked, as Jinu wordlessly sits at the foot of her bed.

He's quiet. Too quiet, but maybe he's just tired, so she adds, "You know you shouldn't be sneaking around like this."

She waits a beat, expecting something witty or playful, but Jinu only softens. His smile falters and is replaced with something more serious.

He reaches out. "Can I?"

Rumi blinks before nodding and slowly handing over her sheet. It's a little unnerving, just letting him see her work, but she hands it over anyway.

He skims them, a proud little smile pulling at his face. "These are good," he murmurs, the paper crinkling as he hands it back.

"Really?" Rumi can't help but preen.

Jinu shrugs. "Sure. Of what I can make of them, anyway. You erased a bunch. Why?"

"Noo. Don't change the subject. You haven't answered me." She leans back and gently nudges his leg with her foot. "You didn't sneak in just to tell me my lyrics were good."

Jinu glances up at her, his heart squeezing at the smile adorning her lips. It was both terrifying and comforting, how easily she could put him at ease. How... okay he felt when he was around her.

"Can I not just sneak in for the sake of it?"

"Nope."

Jinu sighs, but there's a subtle smile pulling at his lips. Of course Rumi won't let it go. Of course she prods. And of course, he tells her.

"You make the voices go quiet."

Her chest squeezes. And for a second, neither of them says anything. Don't move. Don't blink. Barely even breathe, like any sort of movement might break the moment.

But eventually, Jinu speaks up again. "I never liked my patterns."

Rumi nods. "You've mentioned."

His gaze drifts down to her arm, to the patterns that run along her skin. On him, they're everything he hates. A sick reminder of what he did.

But on her? On her, they're different. Special. Beautiful, even.

"Your patterns, though..." Jinu reaches out, carefully wrapping his hand around her arm and rubbing his thumb over the twisting lines. "They make me mind mine less."

"Really? That's funny."

Jinu's eyes shoot up. "Funny?"

He's almost offended, then Rumi continues, "I think the same about yours."

Jinu stares at her, lips parted. Then he laughs and shakes his head, his gaze drifting back to her arm. "Lead with that next time."

Rumi grins at the relieved little expression on his face as she sits up and shifts closer. She shouldn't. She knows she shouldn't. But she can't help it. Not after he was vulnerable with her.

"Especially the ones on your neck." Rumi reaches her hand out, fingers hovering inches away from his neck. She hesitates, her eyes flicking over to Jinu.

When he nods, and she gently reaches out and touches her fingers to the column of his throat.

"When the light catches them just right... They look really nice." She swallows hard, grudgingly easing her hand away. "Pretty."

"You think so?"

Rumi nods, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "I do."

Jinu hums low in his throat, his skin burning where she touched. Why did she stop? Should he stop?

He drew his hand back, his fingers twitching like they already missed the warmth of her arm.

"Can I stay a while?"

The question is so quiet and hesitant, Rumi almost doesn't hear it. But she does, and she can't help the way she moves closer. Her knees brush against his thigh, her paper long forgotten in her lap.

"You can stay," she says softly. "As long as you're quiet."

Jinu nods.

"Thank you."

"Don’t make me regret it.”

Jinu scoffs. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

—

@cafekitsune for divider!!