Major Brainrot

Melle # I write for txt mostly # legal # she/her # INTJ-t

[summerrainwinterbreeze]

A not so offical masterlist

Reactions

Txt and their favourite places to kiss you(obnoxiously intimate but fluffy)

Txt reaction to a virgin significant other (suggestive but pretty much just fluff, ot5)

Txt as acts of non-sexual dominance (ot5 fluff)

Txt as the five love languages(fluff, this is a receiving version, things that make the members feel loved IMO)

Txt as types of hugs ( self-explanatory fluff)

Txt as the little things that they do for you (huh, my very first posts, complete fluff, ot5)

Headcanons

Yeonjun headcanons (as a friend, in general, as a significant other, smutty shit)

Soobin headcanons (as a friend, in general, as a significant other, smutty shit)

Beomgyu headcanons (as a friend, in general, as a significant other, smutty shit)

Taehyun headcanons (as a friend, in general, as a significant other, smutty shit)

Kai headcanons (as a friend, in general, as a significant other, smutty shit)

Drabbles

Rebel for the night (A hueningkai x reader gender-neutral fluff drabble. 0.5k)

Facemasks (A yeonjun x reader gender-neutral fluff drabble. 0.5k)

Full fics

Watermelon sugar ( a smut-filled Yeonjun x femme reader (reader with a vulva) work of fiction. 9.3k. First story I ever posted)

Focus (Short and sweet Yeonjun x femme! reader smutty fic. 1.5k)

A boyfriend for Christmas (First and last Christmas 2021 series thingy. A hueningkai x reader fic. Smut. For sure. With a mix of comedy, kinda.7.7k

Sweet phantom (A dark fantasy phantom of the opera Phantom!Mentor!Taehyun x Opera singer!femme!reader themed AU.14.4k)

Green tea and honey(part 1) (Fluff and Angst, love. You down? A Tiger hybrid!Beomgyu x reader fic where sadness gets sadder. 1.6k)

[kindafever]

[feral-ballad]

Yves Olade, from Bloodsport; “When rome falls”

[athingofvikings]

Academically speaking, I still find the whole “anti-shipper” movement to be fascinating from a sociological perspective.

You have what amounts to a extremist purity cult whose beliefs align nearly precisely with those of Conservative American Christianity in terms of sexual purity politics (admittedly with some additional flourishes that I’ve watched develop in real time), but is mostly composed of minority members whose sexual-and-gender identities are opposed and oppressed by Conservative American Christianity.  Additionally, their tactics also mirror religious pro-censorship groups (such as Warriors For Innocence), but their rhetoric is entirely secularized and derived from leftist theory.

Did they arrive at this structure via convergent evolution?  Via socially dominant concepts in the greater socio-cultural space that they occupy?  I doubt it was by direct emulation but the possibility does exist on some levels.

[kallinite]

I’m literally doing my sociology research paper on them right now.

[athingofvikings]

Ooh? Go on.

[kallinite]

It’s a qualitative study looking at the ways that Tumblr antis define the word “pedophilia”. It’s pretty interesting stuff because the definitions are so unique to Tumblr anti culture. I’ll have to go through my coding more thoroughly, but I think I’ve broken them down into four categories:

1. Legality based arguments where they’re very stuck on the idea of Age of Majority. Usually these people believe that it’s pedophilia if an 18 year old dates a 17 year old because they view age 18 as a hard and fast line from childhood to adulthood.

2. Psychological-readiness based arguments are a lot more subjective. These people often use arguments about differing life stages as a reason to call something pedophilia. Some even bust out that “peoples brains don’t fully age until 25” factoid. For this group, age gaps are a real no-go, even if both partners are legally consenting adults. The acceptablity of age gaps varied.

3. Physical appearance based arguments are focused against people who like young looking or young acting characters, even if those characters are adults. These people define pedophilia as an attraction to the perception of youth. This belief is strongly correlated with anti-DD/LG posting.

4. I’m having trouble naming the fourth category. It’s based around an argument of sneaky pedophilia or maybe an uncovering of the fan creators hidden desires? These antis argue that aging up characters past canon ages and shipping them is pedophilia because they believe that the shipper REALLY wanted to ship the child but didn’t because they were worried it wasn’t socially acceptable. In this instance, the character is portrayed as an adult by fandom and there is nothing childish in their appearance or mannerism. Because the character was depicted as a child in canon, however, the anti believes that the character must always be depicted that way in fandom and that only tricky pedophiles would be interested in exploring that character’s future.

Similarly, I noticed a newer trend of calling adult ships between people who canonically knew each other as children/teens to be called pedophilia or at the very least jailbaity, predatory behaviour. This is particularly true when the characters are a couple years apart. The idea there is that, if they knew each other as children, they’d never be able to see each other as adults. So if they have sex as adults, they’re mentally thinking of the child version of their partner and are therefore a pedophile. I wonder if this is a projection of the beliefs from #4. Perhaps it is the antis who, once introduced to a child/teen, are never able to see them as anything but a child and therefore they believe that everyone else must feel the same? That’s only a guess. I only saw this one a handful of times and it was all pretty recently, so I didn’t include it in the data for my paper. It does seem to indicate a level of escalation in these definitions though. I’ll have to check in again at a later date and see if it sticks around.

[athingofvikings]

I’ve seen all of those as well, and I’d be fascinated to see your results when you’re published.

As for names for the fourth category, can I suggest Canonical Stasis arguments?  As in, “the characters are forever frozen at the ages that they are presented”.

[ruffboi-mags]

This is fascinating.

Infuriating as always, but fascinating.

[ms-demeanor]

Maybe I’m just new to the particular depths of this discourse but I’ve recently found out about criticisms of some ships that has cross-pollination between types 2 and 4 in defining ships as incestuous because characters are “sibling coded”??

Reminds me strongly of the Reylo antis who insist that Reylo is shipping pedophilia because of the age difference between the actors.

(also repeating the purity spiral - can’t let the teens be alone unsupervised, if Sally and Bobby are left unattended they might develop pantsfeels and since they’ve been friends since childhood that would be inappropriate and therefore must be prevented)

[feotakahari]

There was a point in time when TV Tropes banned entries about an NSFW Tangled fic. The fic was about adults who are canonically married, but because the target audience for Tangled was children, the fic was considered “pedo porn.”

[ethereal-business-cabaret]

I don’t know if canonical statis necessarily explains #4. #4 (and really all of them, but especially #4) seems to be reflective of this idea that “monsters” have very specific characteristics, tastes, and values - that you can always spot a monster using various tells. And if they dare do something like what #4 suggests, they are hiding those tells, so they are extra monstrous. There is likely a very real anxiety around not being able to tell offhand who is safe and who isn’t, about predators that hide in the midst. “You never know who you’re talking to on the internet!!! They may be GROOMING YOU!!” This may seem to be an attempt at unmasking these predators, these monsters - but, as someone who’s had the misfortune of knowing such monsters first-hand, it’s not particularly effective.

[kallinite]

I was originally thinking something similar. That’s why I had written it down as “sneaky pedophile” at first. lol Upon further reflection, however, I think that canonical stasis is more accurate. That pedophiles have specific tells and that aging up is an attempt to subvert those tells is the argument. The underlying belief for that to work, however, is that canonical ages must remain static. Otherwise the argument falls apart. 

That is similar to the reason I went with a psychological readiness label for #2. Originally I had just put down “age gaps”, but age gap only encompasses the argument. The underlying belief for the problematic elements of age gaps is that one partner is psychologically/emotionally unready for the relationship. This strikes at the core of the concern, which is the perceived power imbalance between the partners. This power imbalance is then sometimes conflated with pedophilia. Age gaps are just one of the ways this is expressed. Other arguments in a similar vein are that the characters are in differing life stages or that the characters brain is not yet fully developed (some psychological studies suggest that the human brain is still developing up until age 25, so some people argue that people under 25 are still too young for relationships with older adults).

[kallinite]

The paper is done! Check out my Tumblr post for the link!

[peachcookie]

op and all the comments on this post have brain worms

[athingofvikings]

Gotta love how they just respond with insults.  And by “love”, I mean “time to block another one.”

[nyxelestia]

Really looking forward to all this. I also wanted to add a very subtle way in which these mindsets have also started to affect real life people / influence how puritanical antis have started to view the world: the weird insistence I started to get to a funny old story that in denying my supposed “victimization” between my adult self and another adult, I was supporting the perpetuation of pedophilia. I scened with an older guy at a BDSM club, including sexual activity. Afterwards, the guy’s friend and the host of the party came up to me and asked, “Hey, did anyone check your ID at the door? You look so young, I want to make sure you’re safe.” I do look very young - I’m on a fast track to thirty and people still ask me what grade I’m in - so I’m used to stuff like this. This was a generally funny moment for me, and I had a good time that night. The closest thing to duplitious intent I could imagine of those men is the typical “implying a woman looks young to flatter her” cliche - and to be honest, I fully expect that was basically happening here, since BDSM communities tend to have a culture of safety, with a built-in way for interrupting scenes if someone might be in danger (i.e. safewords, DM’s, etc.) But what frustrated me about telling this cute story online was how people started to say that these guys must be pedophiles, because if I really look so young, then what does it say about them that they enjoyed sexual activity with me? This was a real life instance of people projecting those last two types of pedophilia definitions onto me. In theory, if this were pedophilia, I would be the “victim”, both for being chronologically younger than these men, and for looking so significantly younger. It’s particularly infuriating because their worldview is effectively punishing me for appearing the wrong age - which is typical of misogynistic and patriarchal ideals of feminine appearance. Women must be punished for looking the “wrong” age, and while we normally see this as woman being devalued for appearing older than the ‘ideal woman’, this also certainly felt like an instance of being punished for appearing younger than the ‘ideal woman’. Under this logic, I, a 100% consenting adult, can never have sexual activity with anyone, ever. Any actual adult who participates with me is only doing so out of a secret desire to have sex with a child and using me as a substitute, so even if we’re both enthusiastically consenting adults, I’m perpetuating or enabling pedophilia. Meanwhile, if I were to have sexual activity with someone who actually is the chronological age I appear as, they would be minors and thus I would be the predator. The growth of purity culture in fandom, on Tumblr, and the social media world in general is starting to influence how people view real world sexual activity - and the real life people having it.

[luckyladylily]

I feel like there is a degree of assumption of good faith given to antis here that is not deserved.

The general assumption I am seeing be made is that antis start at a definition of pedophilia and go forward from that - that they check against one or more predefined definitions of pedophilia and if one or more of the definitions fits then that is where they have a problem.

I think in many, many cases it is the opposite. An individual experiences a reaction of disgust, assumes their reaction of disgust is an objective assessment of a problem, and then put into words the reason for their disgust. Having put the offensive into words they assign that “pedophilia” to create a moral justification for their disgust. These ‘accepted’ definitions of pedophilia then get picked up by people to explain why their disgust is objective truth, conflicting ideas pile on top of each other and are cherry picked to suit their purposes in any given situation.

I feel like this more accurately describes anti behavior. A given ship or behavior is disliked, and so one of the definitions of pedophilia is forcibly applied or a new definition invented if one does not exist.

Basically, the core belief is not in any of these definitions of pedophilia. The core belief is that their gut reactions are reflective of objective truth. This is why the behavior patterns of antis are virtually identical to Conservative American Christianity and sexual purity cults while their justifications are built around progressive language. Judging righteousness by gut reaction is a core Conservative American Christianity teaching. The idea is pervasive through our Christianity dominated culture (both secular and religious). You tell what is right not by well reasoned ethical and moral principles but by gut reactions (aka the spirit of god, a conscience, etc.)

What is more, all of this constitutes well understood behavior patterns followed by many groups under many circumstances. Racists being disgusted by the intermingling of races, homophobes being disgusted by gay people, terfs being disgusted with trans people. The pattern of behavior and underlying motivation is always the same, and various justifications are given after the fact by every group. And it is particularly telling that in virtually every case concerns about pedophilia are cited.

Antis, their behavior patterns, and their obsession with using an ever widening definition of pedophilia as a justification for their behavior is pretty much standard for any moral panic. Their justifications are slightly modified in self serving ways, as is the case for all moral panic driven groups.

[aliciabenissa]

@nyxelestia I just had something similar happen to me with porn abolitionists insisting my ability to consent is compromised because I have PTSD and that therefore I cannot enjoy sex and should not have it. So there’s ableism bred into these views as well.

[1merfairy]

Honestly, as someone who is 20 years old and looks like I’ve only just hit puberty, if I wasn’t aroace and was in a sexual/romantic relationship with someone, I can definitely see people judging anyone that would want that kind of relationship with me. Heck, back when I was an anti, I sort of believed that people who would hypothetically be interested in me were pretty suspect because I look so young

It’s okay to be uncomfortable with age gaps and the like, and it’s okay to be uncomfortable with certain interpretations of characters. What’s not okay is harassing people over it. Just because you’re triggered or squicked out, that doesn’t mean you’re in the right

You can’t just assume people are closet pedos/racists/homophobes/abusers/bigots based on what fictional content they enjoy. The assumption that enjoying something in fiction that doesn’t come with a big flashing disclaimer that the author does not condone [insert horrible thing] irl

And even then, that’s not enough

[girlcalledwhatsername]

“What is more, all of this constitutes well understood behavior patterns followed by many groups under many circumstances. Racists being disgusted by the intermingling of races, homophobes being disgusted by gay people, terfs being disgusted with trans people. The pattern of behavior and underlying motivation is always the same, and various justifications are given after the fact by every group. And it is particularly telling that in virtually every case concerns about pedophilia are cited.”

@luckyladylily you have opened my third eye, i had noticed the pedophilia accusations in these cases separately but never correlated them

[luckyladylily]

The reason why pedophilia is always the cited concern is because it gets people to shut their brain off. We all agree child sexual abuse is a huge evil. We all agree that “something must be done” about child sexual abuse. People have an extremely strong emotional response to the idea. These movements hijack that emotional response to push their agenda.

Accuse gay people of being pedophiles and the need to prevent child sexual abuse becomes so urgent in people’s mind that you cannot risk it. If there is even a risk that supporting the “gay agenda” will increase child sexual abuse then people will violently oppose wide spread acceptance of homosexuality even when though the claim is based on absolutely no evidence. And then it becomes “common knowledge” that queer people are inherently pedophilic.

This method of turning public opinion against queer people has been used to great success all over the world. The Soviet Union famously cited pedophilia concerns as their reason for imprisonment of gay men, and a similar tactic was used at the same time in the USA and England to justify imprisonment and forced sterilization.

Anti’s use the same process. For example, claim that shipping of age differences will cause pedophilia and something as unimportant as shipping must be opposed for even the chance that it will bring about any CSA. The claim alone is enough to get people on your side even without any evidence.

This is crucial, because that evidence does not exist for any of these claims. Not necessarily because it is almost certainly false, actual research into the subject is shockingly thin due to consistent opposition to research into CSA prevention. The people who consistently oppose this research are the same moral purity groups that frequently cite concerns of pedophilia to demonize people they despise. Incident rates, criminality rates, common conditions under which CSA occurs, effective methods of prevention, trying to research any of it will have an organization drowning in controversy and accusations of “supporting pedophilia”. The mere suggestion that there may be something to do besides or in addition to their pushed solution of hunting, imprisoning, and killing suspected pedophiles is seen as a threat.

With moral purity groups universally using pedophilia as a justification, and often their primary and only justification, I find it very difficult to see any other possibility than the obvious conclusion that they care more about preserving their excuse than preventing child sexual abuse.

[fiction-is-not-reality2]

Relevant to this would be two sections in particular of an article I wrote, specifically “Defending the innocents” and “Moral Panic”. Below, a few selected excerpts: 

.

In fact, despite its singular placement against the backdrop of the First Amendment, obscenity law remains important, and it is still used today as one of the few legal tools available to criminalize speech that is otherwise consensual and/or private. The existence or not of a victim is not even necessary, as moral crimes are considered of immediate effect to the soul, and said victim can be made up on the spot. 

One such very common victim is, of course, the child. Who, if not the most innocent and helpless, is the perfect subject to call for the immediate indignation of the community, ready to do whatever it takes to protect the most vulnerable members of our society?

“Think of the children” has long since become a recurrent slogan whenever there’s a need to motivate restricting the liberties of adults and marginalized groups (children included), by evoking moral authority and using a rhetorical tool that effectively corners the opponent in a moral bind.

[…]

And if there’s one thing that “Think of the children” has done, it is giving people an easier scapegoat to redirect their fears and frustrations against a target that they have the power to denounce, differently from the historical direction of censorship coming from the higher class against the lower, lacking in power and resources. Where censorship punches down, the blind, moral concern for the corrupted youth gives virtual power to the mass to punch horizontally, down to someone sitting even lower than them, and occasionally even upward against the higher class.

[…]

Examples of this are the panic over comic books in the 50s (an emblematic case, the book Seduction Of The Innocent, arguing that comic books were a direct cause of juvenile delinquency), the satanic panic of the 80s, the panic over violent video games in the 90s, the panic over the “trans agenda” of the past few years, together with “punching-up” conspiracies like Pizzagate and QAnon. They are all deeply concerned for the youth and the vulnerable, all have a very specific target supposedly responsible for the child abuse they are perceiving, and all are characterized by an impressive amount of disinterest toward more empirically accurate assessments of types of child abuse and how to prevent them.

The level of disinterest and plain detachment from the work that should be put in to actually make a change even suggests that the child victim is really just a symbol in a social phenomenon that, at closer inspection, is not about them. It’s not about the child. It’s about the idea of the perfect childhood being the canary in the coal mine of a morally traditional and just society:

[…] there is […] a very strong emphasis in moral panics on what ‘right-minded’ people should think about an incident or group; expressing in common [unison] these common sentiments of outrage helps reaffirm our commitment to society.

Moral panics today, like witch hunts in the past, help define the Other so that the community gathers tighter and in stronger solidarity with the (re)confirmed moral norms that give “the rest of the community some sense of their own territorial identity.” 

.

Filter this through micro-communities closed in echo-chambered socmed bubbles where there is a strong need to define one’s own identity to participate and have value in the group. Socmeds that push and enforce that affirmation of identity through the activity of fighting against (the idea of) someone else, which is then rewarded with popularity and positive engagement from the in-group. 

[muselin]

Goldmine discussion and I strongly encourage people to read at least the first two posts, you may be behaving in an unhelpful way that you never thought about.

[summerrainwinterbreeze]

. . .saves to finish later

[summerrainwinterbreeze]

An excerpt from a fic I might not finish (Submissives hiring, poly txt)

“Your sex life is in dire need of some more oomph,” Kaitlyn says, always blown with opinion and lacking any form of filter. “I mean seriously. When last did you get laid? Reagan?”

“Don’t bring her ex into this.” You thank your lucky stars for Josh’s save, offering up a small smile in his direction, a seat across you on the round table. He continues, “But seriously, love, your pussy is gonna fucking rot if you don’t put it to good use.” 

Forget the saving grace.

“I don’t see why this matters. My vibrator is plenty.” You stir your drink solemnly. Nothing too fancy. Plain lemonade on ice with what Kaitlyn called "A little something extra to get things flowing." You bring the straw to your lips, swallowing with a shallow grimace. "And besides, if I wanted something extra in the sheets I have the right to decide it. Not the two of you." 

Kaitlyn gives a biteless snarl, Josh crosses his arms, rolling his eyes and ignoring you completely as he says, "Maybe her pussy is broken. Orrrr maybe," A devilish smirk curls his sensuous mouth, "If you're just not into men I get it." 

You had delved into that aspect of your sexuality before. Once. College dorm room. You'd been eying her for quite some time before, thinking the attraction to be simple admiration. Everyone had their eyes on her anyway. Her easy-going nature, smooth curves, charisma, and for lack of a better term, the downright sexual aura she exuded could and had drawn in even those of the strongest will. 

It’s been years since the night that your bodies had met beneath the sheets, and fuck, she hadn’t disappointed. With her, sex was a slow, brooding tease, a luscious building ache at the pit of your stomach, a trap ready to snap shut and cease you in a vicious convulsion of burning pleasure at her very breath, her command. But it had been years and you hadn’t seen her since. 

“It’s not men that’s the issue, Josh.” Although sometimes you wondered if they were. You, completely unlike your companions, hadn’t particularly enjoyed getting frisky with someone temporarily during your younger years. The thought of laying there, waiting for someone to finish themselves off was never too appealing. After all, that’s how the first experience went. You hadn’t expected any of the others to be any different. College, though, opened up a gateway for sexual exploration, that is, until Reegaan came along and you limited that crawling desire to your time with him. Things got dry quickly, and though the reasons for your parting with him weren’t solely-sex based, you still felt a bit odd in this newfound freedom. Nothing was holding you back or tying you down and sometimes, you wondered what to do with it. Hence the brunch with Josh and Kaitlyn and the completely unasked for callout on your sexual whereabouts. 

“What are you into?” Kaitlyn half-heartedly stirs her beverage, her focus, a laser beam. “What have you done in bed? What do you want to try?”

“Well, I certainly haven’t tried half the shit you have.” Kaitlyn often ranted about the many endeavours she partook in behind closed doors. From blindfolds to orgies and pegging, she withheld no details. “Honestly, things never went beyond the normal.” I’ve enjoyed some experiences, though I have wanted to try, well,” you take a short pause to lick your dry lips, “Other things, it’s not like I could have brought it up to anyone I was with.”

“And why not?”

“It would be awkward to say hey, y’know I kinda sorta wanna try this thingy I saw online that’s probably fake but looked really hot so I would appreciate it if you didn’t judge me but If you’re not into it that’s totally fine, please ignore everything I just said.” Your confession is spewed all at once, and you’re left blushing by the end of it.

“And what exactly is that thing online that you saw that’s probably fake but looks really hot?” Kaitlyn is persistent enough to drop her croissant, steepling her fingers beneath her chin and leaning towards you. 

You gulp, feeling slightly shy amongst your closest friends.”Look, it was nothing, that happened over a year ago and —”

“Tell me,” Kaitlyn says, straight-faced and stern-voiced. 

“It wasn’t much, not all that kinky, just a bit of exhibitionism, I think they called it, but I’m not sure, it’s been a while.” Lie. You’ve watched several videos since that stumble under the category of exhibitionism when you were craving release, needing anything to get you to it. And when those days came, you lay sprawled upon your sheets, playing with yourself desperately, body sweat-slicked and sensitive, eyes deathly fixed upon your phone screen, either presenting a video with some form of rough mirror sex, steady hands firmly fisting a woman’s hair, forcing her to look at herself and the point where their bodies joined, a garble of moans and streams of slurs gushing from her at every snap of his hips. Other times it was a scene of another couple playing publicly, a toy inserted inside of her and left there while she attempted to perform basic tasks, her lover with the controls, merciless, grinning as she released with a scream, twitching and mewling and sobbing. And— 

Your cheeks heat and you shrink away from Kaitlyn’s knowing chuckle. “What else have you been fucking yourself to the thought of?”

You skate your fingers over your glass, condensation pooling and dripping over your fingers. You shiver, looking to Josh for help but finding him busy with his blasted avocado toast. “I think a threesome might be nice, or maybe doing it with multiple people.”

“A gangbang?”

“Something like that.” You pick at your quickly cooling eggs, face twisting. “There’s just something exciting about it.” despite yourself, you look to her for approval. She gives you a listening nod. “Being at the centre of all that passion and attention sounds kinda fun. But I don’t think I would. It sounds a little wild.”

“You could. You can if you want. Actually. . .” She digs through her purse, pulling out her phone, Josh stops mid-swallow. “There are these guys, professionals, of course, who are sub-searching.”

[summerrainwinterbreeze]

A not so offical masterlist

Reactions

Txt and their favourite places to kiss you(obnoxiously intimate but fluffy)

Txt reaction to a virgin significant other (suggestive but pretty much just fluff, ot5)

Txt as acts of non-sexual dominance (ot5 fluff)

Txt as the five love languages(fluff, this is a receiving version, things that make the members feel loved IMO)

Txt as types of hugs ( self-explanatory fluff)

Txt as the little things that they do for you (huh, my very first posts, complete fluff, ot5)

Headcanons

Yeonjun headcanons (as a friend, in general, as a significant other, smutty shit)

Soobin headcanons (as a friend, in general, as a significant other, smutty shit)

Beomgyu headcanons (as a friend, in general, as a significant other, smutty shit)

Taehyun headcanons (as a friend, in general, as a significant other, smutty shit)

Kai headcanons (as a friend, in general, as a significant other, smutty shit)

Drabbles

Rebel for the night (A hueningkai x reader gender-neutral fluff drabble. 0.5k)

Facemasks (A yeonjun x reader gender-neutral fluff drabble. 0.5k)

Full fics

Watermelon sugar ( a smut-filled Yeonjun x femme reader (reader with a vulva) work of fiction. 9.3k. First story I ever posted)

Focus (Short and sweet Yeonjun x femme! reader smutty fic. 1.5k)

A boyfriend for Christmas (First and last Christmas 2021 series thingy. A hueningkai x reader fic. Smut. For sure. With a mix of comedy, kinda.7.7k

Sweet phantom (A dark fantasy phantom of the opera Phantom!Mentor!Taehyun x Opera singer!femme!reader themed AU.14.4k)

Green tea and honey(part 1) (Fluff and Angst, love. You down? A Tiger hybrid!Beomgyu x reader fic where sadness gets sadder. 1.6k)

[summerrainwinterbreeze]

Focus

Pairing: Yeonjun x femme!reader

Genre: Smut. Just smut.

Warnings: Spanking, cunnilingus, light bondage, mild dirty talk, dollification, Un edited, Un beta'd, semi-public, mild exhibitionism, mild vouyerism, online classes, Uses of princess, baby, babe petnames, reader is a brat but Jun loves it, banter, profanity, female ejaculation

Synopsis: Online classes were getting more and more mundane. Luckily, your boyfriend Yeonjun helps you find a way to pass the time.

A/N: GAGSSS in twelve different languages. I haven't written in a while and I'm just cringing at everything I create. Like - *pukes. passes out*

Word count: 1.5k

“Shh, baby, it’s okay.” Yeonjun licks a tender strip up your slit, sucking your clit into his waiting mouth. You’ve been in this position for what feels like ages, straddled over his face, your eyes fixed on the headboard, more specifically your laptop, its bright flashing shades of blue, white, green and your professor dragging on and on about some ridiculously dull topic. You’d forgotten what all this was about the instant Yeonjun had shown up anyway.

A sharp spank has you arching instantly, eyes flashing to his which glint in mischief and challenge. ‘Try to stay silent,’ he’d warned before diving between your legs. The dare had no consequence, your microphone was off anyway but something about it — be it the sinuous smirk he’d dealt you when your eyes had widened, his absurd confidence, or the way his tongue had lingered on your thighs, feather-like kisses planted against your skin, lips trailing to your panty-clad sex before retreating every other second — made you shiver with a rush of both fear and excitement.

“Should I take these off, princess?” Masterful fingers hook around the hem of your underwear, toying with it for a moment, letting go. “Or should I make you cum with them on?” You force a gasp to your throat. You’d die before giving him the satisfaction.

“If you leave them on I won’t be able to cum on your face.” Yeonjun inhales sharply, hissing a swear, placing a fluttering kiss on your skin.

“You run a tight bargain,” he smiles, hand reaching for your own, squeezing your fingers tightly, releasing. “Take them off for me.”

You stand with a broad grin, fingers quick, tugging your underwear to your ankles, tossing them away before moving to remove your shirt — his shirt. “No, princess, leave that on.”

You stop, features the definition of confusion. “What can I say? You look good with my shirt on.” You turn to hide your flushing cheeks.

“Shut up. Get back to work.”

His tongue pokes his cheeks, running along the inside, lazily running over you as you shuffle to sit upon his crotch.“So mean,” Yeonjun coos, palms finding your hips, grinding into you.

He’s still fully clothed. It drives you insane. “C’mon.” With a kiss to his jaw, Yeonjun slackens, hips bucking, your hands trailing to his sweatpants, pulling the string loose, dipping your fingers below —

He catches your wrists, hips meeting yours in two sharp thrusts, throwing your head back, drawing a moan from your throat. “Be good for me,” he warns and you counter with a snarl, pulling away, twisting your body but another slide of his hips weakens you, your head falling to his shoulder, groaning in defeat. “That’s my girl.” Against your neck, his kisses bolden, sucking bruises, replacing the markings with his hand, a slow, torturous kiss to your lips, pulling away as his own spread into a grin — victorious, arrogant. “That’s my girl.”

“You’re an asshole,” you half-say, half-pant into his shoulder, and with careful fingers he positions you over his face, kissing your stomach, looking up at you with his signature grin at hand.

“You know it,” He says before diving for you again, your hands frantically finding his hair, his lips feverish along your skin, your heat, and with a deep rumble of satisfaction, he delves his tongue into you, nose brushing against your clit as he fucks and curls it upward, dragging it along your clenching walls, exploring every bit of you, slapping your ass as he pulls you closer. “Princess, fuck, focus, look at the screen.” You swivel your hips with his every lick, grinding harder, harder. His palms halt you completely. “Look at the screen.”

You whine, huffing, arms crossed, looking down at him with as much fury as you can muster. “I was close.”

“Exactly. Wouldn’t want the fun to end so soon.” He brushes his fingers over your back, your waist. “I want you to cum so hard that you break for me. Wouldn’t that be pretty?”

Bringing a hand to his hard-on, you roughly rub your palm against it. “But we could fuck now? Wouldn’t that be fun?”

He bucks into your touch, gripping your thighs. “Baby, focus.”

“But I want you inside of me. Please. I’ll be good.” A harsh hand runs through his hair, tugging the base and you at last dip your fingers beneath his sweats, sighing at the feel of him, hard and hot and dripping at the tip. “Fuck me.”

He again grabs your wrists, pinning them behind your back using no more than a palm, his other spreading your folds, greed blending into his breathlessness. "I'm fucking you with just my tongue."

Your immediate response is a complaint. "Fingers."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Jun."

"Yes?"

"Add your fingers too."

"No."

"You're mean."

"Mhm."

"You're a pain."

He beams, fingers running smoothly, slowly over your folds, deftly dipping into your heat, pulling out just as quickly. "I know."

"So annoying." Your breath is a whisper.

"Go on." Yeonjun's tongue finds your seam, skating over it, his pace like a gentle lapping wave.

You shiver, pressing your hips against him, sliding with his every stroke. "You're," you pause, grunting, teeth finding your lips, "You're such a - fuck."

"A good boyfriend?" He delves past the seam, cautious but sure, hands sliding to your hips, bouncing you delicately. "Tell me something I don't know."

You fume, mewl, thrash, melt. "Fuck you."

"No, baby. Today's about you. Now tell me, what's prof saying?"

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the screen. “He’s talking about something something, I don’t give a shit, Yeonjun, harder, please.”

“Like this?” Fingers dig into the fat at your hips, lifting you, Yeonjun kissing the handprints he left to decorate your ass, tenderly bringing a hand to worship the smouldering marks, then bringing it down in a spank twice as hard. You’re dizzy for a second, head, spinning, lips, agape. “This what you want baby?” Each impact lands atop the other, doubling the sting, drawing heavy arousal from your already swollen folds, body trembling, sweat dripping down your flushed skin.

“Yeon- fuck! Yeonjun, I -”

“Shh, baby, shh, take it. Be good for me. You can be my good girl, right? Is Princess gonna be good for me? You like it? Like when I kiss you right here?” A fleeting kiss is given to your clit, right before his tongue swirls about it with a vigour — a hunger, desperation that makes you buckle over face first into your pillow, screaming in shock and arousal, drowning in it. “Gonna cum on my face baby? I know you’re close.”

Close, too close, too close to hold it in, too close to scream, too close to breathe, too close to — “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, Yeonjuun, slow down, can’t —” It hits you at that moment, like an inevitable collapse, tumbling over you, Yeonjun’s hands on your thighs trapping you in place, forcing you still as your body quakes, your lips quiver and heat flushes through you, straight onto his tongue, your body left numb, recovering.

He guides you through it all with gentle reassurance, “That’s it, princess, so proud, doing so well, there you go, atta girl.”

But after no more than a moment, he’s on you again, fingers dipping inside of you, tongue laving at the apex of your thighs again, grunting softly as you squirm, unable to form words, lost to confused garbles and tortured moans. “Gonna overstim you, baby. Sound fun?” You’re grabbing at his wrist, flicking quick as he fucks you, driving you to a frenzy, but he halts you without pause, flipping you onto your back, hands pinned above your head, removing his fingers from your already-tightening core to lift your shirt.

His mouth hot and quick against your heated skin, tasting the sweat that rolls over your curves, locating your nipple, nipping it playfully before cupping your sex, tongue a merciless whip, fingers delving into you again, thumb pulling back the hood upon your clit. Slow and steady as he rubs you up, then down, gradually picking up pace, he says, “You can take it, right babe?”

Yeonjun bites your lip before you argue, growling into your mouth, and for that moment you share the taste of your arousal, his thighs keeping yours spread and hand tightening against your wrists as he quickens his pace, fucking you to your second orgasm, swallowing each moan you yell into his mouth.

Yeonjun pulls away, drunk and drowsy, eyes saturated with the utmost combination of love and lust, moving to speak, interrupted by the morphed crackle of your professor's voice “Y/N? Is there something you wanted to ask? You’re the last in the class.” Ice pous into your veins, Yeonjun shaking with mirth, dropping his head to the crook of your shoulder.

You kick him off, unmuting your mic and say, “No. Sorry about that. I clicked the wrong button,” and exit the meeting with burning cheeks, screaming into your palms.

Yeonjun kisses your shoulder, then your neck, then your cheek. “Soooo? Round three?”

“Choi Yeonjun you fucking idiot.”

“Round four and five too. Gotcha.”

“I hate you so much.”

“I love you with the entirety of my being.”

“You’re a dick.”

He presses his hips against you and you bite back all indication of enjoyment. He says, “You could help me out with that.”

[summerrainwinterbreeze]

Green tea and honey (Chapter 1)

Pairings⇻ Tiger hybrid! Beomgyu x Reader

Genres⇻ Fluff, mild angst

Warnings⇻ Unedited, Unbeta'd, Flashbacks, ptsd, mentions of death, blood, violence, kidnapping, unauthorised experimentation, beomgyu's point of view, depressive episode, body dysmorphia, beomgyu is traumatised,

Word count⇻ 1.7k

Synopsis⇻ And even when the sun falls and the night rises, when darkness hunts like feverish hounds starved and brooding, in the light is where I find you.

A/N⇻ Took way too long for way too few words. Nonetheless, I had to give something to excuse my absence. Will this cut it? I surely hope so.

He remembers how the first scream tore his throat bloody, how those that had followed were like phantom hands forcing salt into the wound.

He remembers the obscene snap and crack that rang brightly through the thick air when they twisted his tail, bending it at all the wrong angles.

He remembers the sharp tang of iron trickling from his busted lip, along his tongue, the saline taste a welcome.

He remembers how they loomed over him, faces blurred with shadows, indistinguishable against the dark of night. They laughed. A deep, hateful sound. They laughed at what he was, what he had become: A meek, writhing thing of ears and a tail of varying shades of auburn and copper, scarred by black stripes, his irises now burning pools of honey. A hybrid. Tiger.

He remembers the brooding ache that exploded in his jaw when milky canines sluiced past his gums, lips curling to a snarl. They'd kicked him then, and fat clusters of orange shot from his skin, talons digging into the cold concrete, streetlights baring blazing golden light upon him. He didn't feel it. Didn't feel anything around him. Solely the bright-hot pain rending him from within when the beast had churned, claws and fangs and savage will shredding his flesh, twisting his bones as deadly crack after crack sounded, bounced off of the empty walls.

He remembers having no control, grasping at himself desperately, like he was being sliced in half, like a piece of cloth being pulled apart with a sickening tear.

He remembers the clang of metal on the damp, dirty ground, gasps around him like a butterfly's kiss, then the endless growls and vicious roars that had spilled from him once the transformation had completed, the brutal, endless killing, body drunk on adrenaline -- fear. Blood spilling and staining and the final breath from the final body as it fell.

He remembers the empty exhaustion when his body was forced from tiger to human form, limp and cold and greedily sucking breath after breath into his shock-soaked lungs.

He remembers clumsily fumbling for his phone in his pocket.

He remembers you being the first person he called.

He remembers being proud of you, how brave you were, how hard you tried to keep the worry and concern and pain from your voice. He remembers leaning into it, feeling you next to him through the barrier the screen provided. Voice call, screen dark, sure. But you were there. You rubbed soothing circles onto his skin, your touch warm, your voice light, your presence his only comfort, keeping the trembling, the darkness, at bay.

He doesn't remember passing out, just waking up to you, face drawn to wariness, hurriedly shaking him, begging him to stand, scanning the yawning street from left to right, refusing to look at the fresh corpses surrounding the both of you.

He remembers, barely, dragging his sleep-slurred body to your car, dipping in and out of slumber as you brought him home. Your home. His home.

He remembers clinging to you, crying, shaking when the shock was over and the remorse, the pain, the anger, the fear, poured in. He told you about the laboratory, its bright white lights and dull concrete and chlorine saturated scent, about how they'd kidnapped him a few weeks ago, it being the reason for his disappearance. Them, the restraints, syringes, how he'd broken out. Pure luck is what it was. Luck and stupidity.

He remembers running the next day. This time from you, from himself, from your kindness, acceptance, his blood-soaked hands, his dirtied soul.

And now here he is. Crouched behind the shrubs in your garden, fixed completely on you, pure-hearted, unsuspecting, perfect, you.

He knows that it's wrong. But he's scared. Anxiety-filled and scared. Is it appropriate? Maybe not, but how could he approach you? He left without notice, reason or apology. Could he approach you?

He loves to see you in this state, suspecting that you had just woken up, hair messily freed, nothing but an oversized tee to clothe you. He could pick up your scent from here. Like something tangible upon his tongue, crowding his nose. He thanked every breath, simultaneously suffocating the stirring beast, the primal rumble building at his chest, its need to claim raw and heavy.

He debated it, going up to you, over and over but he couldn't. For every ton of muscle, he was worth, for every life he had taken, for every flesh shredding tooth, he could not move.

So he watched you work from afar, your hands quick and precise, removing pegs and pulling clothes off of the makeshift wire clothesline. A storm wasn't too far off, he could smell it in the air, senses sharpened since the . . . incident. When it hit, he'd have to drag his sorry self to the run-down shed he'd found shelter in a couple days ago, after he ran. He couldn't return to his apartment, they'd trashed it when they took him and even if they had not, he wouldn't be able to stand it, the heavy mental wound was still bloody and gaping, too fresh, too soon.

So he swallows, shuffles forward, then freezes. Again. "You're a fool," he scolds himself, "A worthless fool." But not even that can move his super-glued soles. What if he hurt you? Accidentally. He doesn't have enough control -- over himself, this new form, these weapons that he was now supposed to call his skin, his body. Your empathy couldn't be stretched so far. Or maybe it was pity. Maybe you saw him as a weak, lowly, brute, raw and uncut, ruthless. Maybe your kindness was fear-borne. Maybe eight years of friendship was destroyed within those weeks he'd disappeared, that night you'd found him, a murderer laying asleep amongst the bodies he'd slewn, no longer human yet too clumsy and uncoordinated, to be animal. Amongst humans and creatures, neither would accept him.

But you.

Wonderful, likely ridiculous, extraordinary, you.

He gave a careless glimpse to your house or cottage? The only one in sight for a couple hundred kilometres, the rolling fields, the distant line of forestry, the lake snaking throughout. He heard it all. Every drip of water over moss-coated stones, every bird call, each rustling leaf. He takes it in on an inhale, the constant, crisp breeze, weighted with rain yet to fall, your scent, your glorious, glorious scent, and the distant caress of blooming hydrangeas. On exhale, he stands, rising to his full height, and takes a daring step towards you. Another. And soon enough you're face-to-face, eye-to-eye, and fuck him but he swears that he sees it: a light flutter of relief, joy even, in your eyes. And fuck him and his smile, tight and uncertain, a hand lifted to scratch his nape, an awkward chuckle bubbling at his throat, but he could not be happier to see you again, to discover that the feeling was mutual.

He parts his lips to speak, choking on a greeting, small as it is, and contemplates handing you his entire soul when you take the lead, a sad slight smirk gracing your lips and saying "I thought you were gone for good, Beomgyu."

Visibly, he flinches. That is not his name. It could never be again. Who he was and is now could not be understood. Not by him. Not by anyone else. Beomgyu? The word was a joke.

He forces a smile that doesn't set fire to the kindle within his eyes, doesn't press crow feet into the corners, and in the attempt to lighten, animate his voice, it fluctuates between octaves. "You would miss me too much." He knows that you see right through him. You always had. Extending his hands towards the basket in your hands, he says in a voice more sincere, "Can I help you with those?"

Snagging onto your every movement is not something that he tries to do, rather, something that he can't prevent himself from doing. He traces the bob of your throat, the rise of your brows, and then your award-winning smile when you look down and remember the basket of clothes you hold. He reaches further but a single blink and his hands are red, warm, sticky blood dripping off of his fingertips, slipping beneath his blackened talons. In another blink, it's gone, and nothing but generally pristine skin remains, the occasional scab or bloodless cut from a clumsy, mild injury. A breath retreats to his throat mid-exhale, limbs trembling violently, he stares and stares. "I'm sorry." He flinches when all merriment drains from your face. "I'm sorry." He shoves his hands into his pockets.

"Breathe," you say and he nearly laughs but you repeat the word again and his lungs obey, the first breath a struggle on inhale, shaky on exhale. "It's okay, breathe." A silent command. "There you go."

The trembling simmers, breathing evening out. He sulks at your smile, given not for joy or pleasure but to calm him, to help him. He hates it. He hates that you force it, that you feel the need to, he hates what he's done to you. "I should leave." He catches the downturn of his lips before you can sight it, turning to leave but you clasp his wrist.

"It's not your fault." The words scathe him, boiled with such empathy and sweet understanding, and despite the lack of first-hand experience on your part he can see and feel and scent and taste and hear the intense sympathy you hold, roaring louder than whatever cursed creature tries to seize him. "It's okay. Stay."

So he will. But not without another attempt at a tease to at least shake some of your sorrow. "Sure you got enough room for me?"

"Always." Your bare feet wind through the ankle-length grass, headed to your house. "I drew a bath before I came out. The water should still be warm, if you want it, it's all yours." And for the first time in a long time, his smile is genuine.

[summerrainwinterbreeze]

Hey! I was wondering if you can do a yeonjun smut based on this pic?

A/N: I dunno, babes, I hop you like it, but a note to all others that wish to request, don't be afraid to give me more to go off of. I took hours to brainstorm an idea and only decided to bring a bit of daddy kink yeonjun cuz I wanted to change up my yeonjun-based smut a bit.

Pairing: Yeonjun x gn! reader

Word count: 1.4k made this as brief as possible.

Status: Requested

Warnings: Public sex, daddy kink, mild profanity, mention of being dared into things, I made yeonjun on the bit of the tired, calmer side, anxious reader she's still bossy though, protection less penetration.

“Yeonjun,” you gasp as a series of heated kisses fall to your neck, washing over your skin in a delicately saccharine wave, “behave.”

Yeonjun pulls away to look at you through the mirror, eyes dark, glistening as the saliva that slicks his lips, glossed and shimmering when he pouts. He stands fully behind you, hands a gentle reassurance on your hips, tapping every other second. Slowly, he drops his chin to your collarbone, breathing your scent in deeply, then huffing in submission. “Tell me what you really want.” He pulls away to let you think, leaving only his softened presence and unhurried demeanour. “I want you to be honest.”

What did you want? Like you knew. This was no more than a very, very blown out of proportion dare. Your friend Maia’s idea. ‘Y’know those cute ass couple photos? The one’s in the dressing room. Yeah, babe, you and Yeonjun should do that.’ You curse your past self — past being fifteen minutes ago but that doesn’t matter right now — for being so foolish.

After profusely refusing Maia’s proposal, with Yeonjun at your side offering neither agreement nor objection, the pink-haired gremlin had probed your ego, obviously riling you up and driving you to a point of no return.

So the answer to the question: What did you want? To pluck the monster of every strand of hair that graced her lithe body. You’re feeling kind today, though. So instead, you say, “I want you, but I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

After years of dating, Yeonjun had grown well versed in the tongue of your insanity. It was labelled anxiety. That horrid thing that drives you mad at the mildest of events and constantly leaves you looking like a fool when the gravity of the situation passed. “I’m not doing anything without verbal consent. You know that.” You did — you do — and you love it. The words throb like q conscious thing, warm and melodic, nestling deeply within your heart — calming you.

Admittedly, though, despite the situation, he had managed to rile your body to a pleasantly aching thrum, sensitivity heightening, pulse-quickening. The first of the series of pictures you had already taken required the two of you to kiss. One thing led to another and he’d scooped you into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, fingers roughly fisting his hair, his tongue tasting your own as a groan of primal satisfaction loosed within his throat, body tensing and relaxing rhythmically.

You slip your phone into your pocket, turn to him, bringing your palms to cup his cheeks, thumb grazing the apples of his cheeks. You kiss him them. A tender lip-lock and pull the heat of his sigh into your lungs, feeling alive with him this close, the intimacy solely his presence provided. “I’m just a little nervous,” you confess, kissing him again, a brief peck. “But I want this — I want you.”

He looks at you with analysis-saturated eyes, and only when he deems your words to be true does he lean in to return your kiss, slow at first, a gentle back-and-forth exchange, like the rock of a boat, gradually picking up fever, his palms, warm and calloused, find your face, pull you in, pressing his body fully against your own, the soft skate of his hoodie against your exposed stomach sends a sweeping wave of bliss against your skin, and he smiles when you shudder. You dig your fingers into his mullet, the hair that drapes beneath his eyes tickling your nose when he bends to deepen your kiss. “Then have me,” he says.

“Ah, wait, baby, one more picture, okay?” The notion obviously disappoints him, but you know and have been proved time and time again over the years that he’d be damned if he let it show.

“One more,” he conforms. “Which one?”

You smile and slid a hand up his chest, gently pushing him onto the stool to your left, pulling out your phone to say, “Kiss my stomach.”

Yeonjun laughs at that moment, a breathy thing that heats your very core. “You’re so bossy.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” he says, lips dappling open-mouthed kisses to your tummy, teeth grating, tongue licking the goosebumps that gather across your skin. Yeonjun looks up at you with warm, open eyes and you swoon for the nth time, moan broiling at your throat, lips empty but unseamed.

You’re quick to snap the final picture, sending it to Maia, turning your phone off before you can receive a response, body ablaze with strengthening desire. “Touch me,” you pant and Yeonjun does not hesitate, kisses sloppy, hands a silken glide, fondling, teasing. “Can we? Please?”

He stops at that request and doesn’t need to speak for you to read the question in his eyes. Yeonjun preferred to rile you to a state of abysmal pleasure before he even considered allowing your release. If you weren’t to your very knees in arousal, you weren’t ready. But today you proposed a change. As things stood, you were beyond ready to have him inside of you. You bite your lips and avert your gaze as a wave of embarrassment hits you, nonetheless, you say, “Daddy? Please?”

“Don’t be shy.” Yeonjun's hand rubs your elbow soothingly. “Say it again. Say my name.”

“It’s embarrassing Yeonjun, I dunno.” This wasn’t a kink that you experimented with often, so every time you brought it up, you couldn’t help the slight humiliation that accompanied it.

Yeonjun, however, with a gaze of steel, and a heart of gold, pulls you to his lap, running his hand up from your wrist, to your neck, to your ear. “Daddy wants to hear you, baby.” You try and fail to withhold your scorched cheeks and dry mouth.

“I-,” you pause, “Daddy.” Fuck. Shit. Crap. “Horny.” You guide his hand to cloak your sex. “Help.” You can tell that Yeonjun is more than pleased. He licks up your neck, kissing your jaw and grinding his palm against your pulsing heat, the cumulation of pleasure a deadly weapon. One he wields with both grace and skill.

“Daddy’s gonna make you feel really good, okay?” He lifts you for long enough to pull your pants to your ankles before sinking you back onto his lap, the material of your jeans trapping you in place, serving as an additional source of pressure. “You want this to be quick?” He kisses your cheek, “I’ve gotcha, baby. Daddy’s gotcha.”

And slowly but surely he sinks into you, body stiff, but sure in its movements, gripping you tightly enough to bruise. You wail when he, at last, sheathes himself within you, clenching sporadically around him, how he filled you, his cock a hot brand bulging at your stomach, filling you wholly.

He wraps a hand around your throat, not choking you but barely applying pressure to the sides of your neck, pulling you in to run his tongue along the shell of your ear, the heat of his breath into it distinct as he tugs the lobe into his mouth.

Yeonjun’s thrusts are nothing short of brutal and you worry for a breath that someone beyond the flimsy doors of the dressing room might hear the vigorous slap of his skin to yours. He brings a finger to your mouth, “Spit.” Is all he says, a single-worded command. You don’t hesitate, dribbling over his fingers, groaning as he brings them to the junction of your bodies, slipping his hand from your throat to lift your shirt, sucking a desire-peaked nipple into his mouth, pebbles hardening farther, groping you in gentle strokes.

“Daddy,” you throw your head back in a moan, unbothered by any restraints, grinding your body against his, demanding additional pleasure.

“That’s my baby. Be good for me. Cum.” Your body, at that instant, is no longer yours, and you lose yourself to the rapid succession of convulses that stiffen your body, seizing it within jaws of steel before releasing it, quivering and breathless.

Yeonjun waits until the final sweep of your orgasm blows past before he allows himself to release, grunting his pleasure into the nape of your neck, tightening his hold, and then releasing it. “That’s right. You’re my baby, aren’t you?” You whimper in response. He smiles — a broad deadly grin — and pulls you into his arms. “Always so good for daddy.”

[summerrainwinterbreeze]

Bts as types of kisses

A/N: Images are not mine. Tumblr is acting up and I can't make mood boards.

ლ Seokjin

Little forehead kisses. If you're into the idea of going with the boys for their concerts, expect jin to run backstage between performances and grab your cheeks to plant a fat kiss on your forehead. He'd also do it if he was out all day and was finally seeing you again at the end of it. He won't wait or take constructive criticism. You're getting a kiss and you cannot stop him.

ლ Yoongi

Hand kisses work best for him. He's always so busy. So when you come looking for him, hoping for a moment of intimacy, he often feels bad. He'll reach for the hand you place on his shoulder, taking his time to kiss your knuckles, then your wrist, trail his way back to your palm and sigh out all his tension, his shoulders visibly slackening. If he feels extra soft he'll place your hand on his cheek and rest himself on it. Don't be surprised if he goes silent for a moment with eyes closed and body still. He's just taking you in.

ლ Hoseok

Smashes his lips against yours in a brief rush of passion. He'd want to show you off if you were comfortable with it. I can see him calling you on stage and if you're being shy he'd rush up to you, cup your cheeks and kiss you so so hard. He's doing the most. Just the two of you, bodies pressed incredibly close, him grinning against your lips "You're so gorgeous" Your hope would react this way as well if he saw you unexpectedly. Would take a moment to freak out before rushing up to you, unable to stop his smile.

ლ Namjoon

Kisses on your temple. Especially when he misses you or needs a break. You'd crawl into bed or into his studio and he would sit you on his lap, your thighs straddling his, and smile before giving you a little peck on the temple, pulling you into his chest, hugging you tightly. "I missed you a lot" "How are you, sweetheart?" You're both his strength and his weakness. And he's not afraid to let you know.

ლ Jimin

Kisses that are the perfect mix of enough and sensual. "Guess what?" And his lips are on yours, hands beneath your thighs hoisting you up so that your legs wrap firmly around his waist. He cannot get enough of you. And he knows exactly how to peel you apart. You won't see it coming. One second he's talking to the maknae, the next his hands are soothingly running up and down your sides, leaning into you, a bold, shameless expression of his burning passion, nibbling on your lips and ear lobe, giggling when you gasp. He loves you and he'd be damned if you didn't know it.

ლ Taehyung

Kisses with him are a soft, sensual experience. He prefers to kiss when the two of you are alone, in bed or cuddling somewhere comfy. He sees it as its own form of art. A gentle confession. Sweet intimacy. The merging of souls, or perhaps, the reuniting of a single one. He'd roll you onto your back, lacing your fingers, his kiss like a breath of wind. You'd get drunk on them together. The constant back and forth exchange of lips and tongue rocks you to a state of peaceful oblivion.

ლ Jungkook

Smiles the whole time and is really playful with them. Teasing kisses that leave you pouty and flushed. "You want more?" Cannot keep the sparkle from his eyes. He absolutely adores you. Romanticizes every little thing. Giggles when your impatience takes over and you hit his arm. "Let me give you all my love" He can be serious though. Would love it if you dragged him from practice for a quick kiss behind the scenes. Loves it when you keep him on his toes.

[summerrainwinterbreeze]

Bts as physical touch

ლ Seokjin

Shoulder bumps. Jin would intentionally brush up against you when he walks by so that his shoulders can knock you off balance, then laugh hysterically. Bonus points if you nudge him back. He just thinks it's hilarious cause you look cute when you fume and start to argue with him. "Oops, sorry angel didn't see you there."

ლ Yoongi

Asks you to do his nails or eyeliner. It's a less direct form of physic touch but gets the message across all the same. He wants you close. Always. And this way, touching him wouldn't be overwhelming to the point that he feels overstimulated. If he's really feeling it, he'd play with your shirt, the drawstrings of your hoodie, and maybe he'd be bold enough to lay a palm on your stomach. Either way, he's watching you attentively. If you do the same, you'll see the admiration in his eyes. "Can you do this one too?"

ლ Hoseok

Hits you with his hip. Y'know that little side hip bump? He does that a lot. Mostly to cheer you up or when you're doing dishes. Even makes the little bing sound to go along with it. He hates it the most when you're sad and will do any and everything in his power to shake up your frown. "Sway your hips with me, let's go!"

ლ Namjoon

Back hugs and bear hugs galore. Doesn't matter if you're dating or not. Yes, he will hug you. No, you cannot stop him. He swoops in out of nowhere and wraps his arms around you. As someone who's constantly up and about, he needs a breath of air every now and then. That's where you come in. You and your comforting presence. "You're so soft"

ლ Jimin

Plays with your cheeks. Will squish them and poke them and kiss them and drum on them. If you've got no fat on your cheeks then ready your thighs for an onslaught. This is funny and weird but I also think he'd blow on your tummy. Especially if you're sick or feeling low. Treats you like royalty but will also treat you like a baby. Why? Cause "You're my baby no matter what"

ლ Taehyung

Kisses you. He adores it when your lips are puffy and swollen with his love. Will anywhere and everywhere he gets. It's not even something too flashy or elaborate. A fleeting kiss before you leave for work kisses your collarbone when you're cooking, will even send you kissing emojis with a good morning or goodnight text. "Just one more, darling"

ლ Jungkook

Play fights. All-day every day with no pre-stated motive. He just wants to touch you in some way. He wants your affection. And what better way to do that than to rile you up with a few playful kicks behind the knees to force your legs to buckle? Nothing says love like a declaration of war. He may or may not end up falling asleep hugging you afterwards. "C'mon. Come at me"

[summerrainwinterbreeze]

Alright. The bug is thankfully fixed. Thank you all for your help. I'll be reblogging my latest works incase some missed them (don't feel obligated to read)

[summerrainwinterbreeze]

MUTUALS PLEASE LIKE THIS POST IF YOU CAN SEE ME

NO ONE CAN SEE ME WTF??

[kyonite]

this is the perfect grade of good luck

reblog in 5 seconds and all of your grades will inch ever closer to perfect

[petrichor-han]

eros

PAIRING | jay x fem!reader

IDOLS FEATURED | park jay, yang jungwon (mentioned), kim chaehyun

WC | 2.2k

GENRE | angst, unrequited love, friends with benefits, non-idol au

WARNINGS | smoking, suggestive and sexual content (no smut), nudity & descriptions of bodies, explicit language

SYNOPSIS | he was, essentially, the perfect lover. he knew what made your body tick, he took care of you after the deed was done, and he knew so much about you—maybe a little too much. perhaps that was why you thought he liked you too; being so vulnerable and naked with someone, physically and mentally, was bound to create some sort of connection. at least, that was what you thought.

TAGS | @penny-quinn @kingkaithekiwi @gothmingguk @ddeonubaby @shysakuno @summerrainwinterbreeze @wonjaems @acciomylove @abdiitcryy @azure-arcanum @madz-world-writing

MASTERLIST | KINDS OF LOVE COLLECTION

Keep reading

[petrichor-han]

aaa thank you so much my love, i’m so glad that you think so!! and i’m so happy that it really seemed like jay—i did my best in this fic specifically to portray him realistically!! thank you for reading and always giving me the sweetest, loveliest feedback—it never fails to make my day and warm my heart.

(also side note, for some reason you’re not showing up in my notifications :( i had to scroll through my dash to see your lovely posts, and i have no clue why!!)

[summerrainwinterbreeze]

Tumblr is ACTING UP I really don't know why?? NOBODY is seeing my posts and I don't know what's going on??? I can't open chats, crow disappeared and I don't know why and I can't format my posts properly and as much as I cultivate it's like my account just decided to die??? I'm so confused.

Your enhypen fics are amazing by the wayyyyy the quality just keeps increasing

[summerrainwinterbreeze]

Bts as physical touch

ლ Seokjin

Shoulder bumps. Jin would intentionally brush up against you when he walks by so that his shoulders can knock you off balance, then laugh hysterically. Bonus points if you nudge him back. He just thinks it's hilarious cause you look cute when you fume and start to argue with him. "Oops, sorry angel didn't see you there."

ლ Yoongi

Asks you to do his nails or eyeliner. It's a less direct form of physic touch but gets the message across all the same. He wants you close. Always. And this way, touching him wouldn't be overwhelming to the point that he feels overstimulated. If he's really feeling it, he'd play with your shirt, the drawstrings of your hoodie, and maybe he'd be bold enough to lay a palm on your stomach. Either way, he's watching you attentively. If you do the same, you'll see the admiration in his eyes. "Can you do this one too?"

ლ Hoseok

Hits you with his hip. Y'know that little side hip bump? He does that a lot. Mostly to cheer you up or when you're doing dishes. Even makes the little bing sound to go along with it. He hates it the most when you're sad and will do any and everything in his power to shake up your frown. "Sway your hips with me, let's go!"

ლ Namjoon

Back hugs and bear hugs galore. Doesn't matter if you're dating or not. Yes, he will hug you. No, you cannot stop him. He swoops in out of nowhere and wraps his arms around you. As someone who's constantly up and about, he needs a breath of air every now and then. That's where you come in. You and your comforting presence. "You're so soft"

ლ Jimin

Plays with your cheeks. Will squish them and poke them and kiss them and drum on them. If you've got no fat on your cheeks then ready your thighs for an onslaught. This is funny and weird but I also think he'd blow on your tummy. Especially if you're sick or feeling low. Treats you like royalty but will also treat you like a baby. Why? Cause "You're my baby no matter what"

ლ Taehyung

Kisses you. He adores it when your lips are puffy and swollen with his love. Will anywhere and everywhere he gets. It's not even something too flashy or elaborate. A fleeting kiss before you leave for work kisses your collarbone when you're cooking, will even send you kissing emojis with a good morning or goodnight text. "Just one more, darling"

ლ Jungkook

Play fights. All-day every day with no pre-stated motive. He just wants to touch you in some way. He wants your affection. And what better way to do that than to rile you up with a few playful kicks behind the knees to force your legs to buckle? Nothing says love like a declaration of war. He may or may not end up falling asleep hugging you afterwards. "C'mon. Come at me"

[petrichor-han]

eros

PAIRING | jay x fem!reader

IDOLS FEATURED | park jay, yang jungwon (mentioned), kim chaehyun

WC | 2.2k

GENRE | angst, unrequited love, friends with benefits, non-idol au

WARNINGS | smoking, suggestive and sexual content (no smut), nudity & descriptions of bodies, explicit language

SYNOPSIS | he was, essentially, the perfect lover. he knew what made your body tick, he took care of you after the deed was done, and he knew so much about you—maybe a little too much. perhaps that was why you thought he liked you too; being so vulnerable and naked with someone, physically and mentally, was bound to create some sort of connection. at least, that was what you thought.

TAGS | @penny-quinn @kingkaithekiwi @gothmingguk @ddeonubaby @shysakuno @summerrainwinterbreeze @wonjaems @acciomylove @abdiitcryy @azure-arcanum @madz-world-writing

MASTERLIST | KINDS OF LOVE COLLECTION

Keep reading