#(gently because they're an idiot)

[capribornio]

Kris overhearing Noelle talking about them when they're trying to beat the soul and she says she's friends with them because they're neighbors, and they instantly turn their head lower and stop facing us.

Kris. Kris my dude (gender neutral). You are pulling a Siffrin here my dude don't do it.

[lovinggreeniehours]

really random post sponsored by me almost sleeping on the couch but man what if esper fell asleep on sylus's couch. idk

[inbabylontheywept]

The Motherfucking Lizard King

No one at work trusts my boss. 

He's smart. He works hard. He's not trustworthy. He hasn't actually fucked anyone at work over, but he's ruined his last two marriages with affairs, and got dumped by his third fiance when he wouldn't sign a prenup. The fact that we all know this is just a hazard of working in a small town. 

Anyway: The thought process of the people in the lab is that if he screwed over his first wife, and his second wife, and was probably planning on screwing over his third wife, it would be insane for him not to screw us over. After all, what kind of idiot treats their employees better than their spouse? 

I dunno. His kind, I guess? He's had a few chances to fuck us over, and he hasn't taken them. Opposite really. When our parent company was doing furloughs, he stayed in the office almost a hundred hours, talking and talking and talking his way up the corporate ladder. And in the end, no one at our site got furloughed. 

He's pulled strings like that before. And it baffles me, right? Because it really does make zero sense. He'll move the heavens and the earth for us, but his wife and kids are afterthoughts. It feels like any moment, he's going to look into the mirror and realize how stupid that is. It feels like I'm betting on him making the same stupid mistake again, and again, and again - like it would be less cynical to believe he was, eventually, going to stab me in the back. But he hasn't yet, and as far as I can tell he's been making that mistake for close to fifteen years, and it's already cost him everything it can. If he was going to learn, he would have by now. 

So my position on him is that if he wanted to date someone I cared about, I'd warn them off. I don't trust him there. But I tentatively trust him to be my boss. Maybe one day he'll stick the knife in and twist, and everyone will say Ah, Babs, we warned you, but for now, I accept that he's doing a very predictable, very irrational thing, and I've made my peace with it. 

---

My job has glue traps. 

No one likes the glue traps, but we don't have a lot of options. Poison's banned by state law, spring traps are banned by company safety, and several non-lethal options tried in the past failed to work. The mouse problem can get pretty bad if it's ignored, and there's some real health hazards in that. Our site has never had a positive hantavirus test, thank God, but the big base about a half hour away has. That guy's gonna be on oxygen the rest of his life. 

If a mouse gets caught, we just euthanize it. But more than mice get stuck. Lizards can wander into those traps too, and the people working there have different feelings about the lizards. They don't pose nearly the same kind of risk mice do. They're chill little guys, and they keep the moths away, and they're just 

You know. They're friendly. There's something to be said about walking into a room, and hitting the light switch, and seeing two little guys on the wall start to do pushups as soon as they see you. 

People used to just euthanize the lizards too, but I had pet leopard geckos as a kid and I couldn't take that so I wound up googling how to free animals from glue traps. Now, when a lizard gets stuck in a trap - which happens once or twice a week - I get some vegetable oil from the breakroom, and a little plastic fork, and I'll spend fifteen to twenty minutes just kind of gently prying the little guys out. 

I have a team of technicians that help me operate one of the larger machines. They're real blue collar guys, ex-airforce, and they make me look like a little kid. Being an engineer means they'll look to me as a leader sometimes, which is a wild experience. And I started helping the lizards for my own conscience, but one of the crazier consequences of it has been that it seriously boosted my leadership cred. Because those guys see me, and they go: Hey. If he's willing to fight for a lizard, he's gotta be willing to fight for me. 

I cannot overstate how nice that is. Most engineers that want to make a change to a maintenance practice, or try an upgrade, they have to work their asses off to get the techs to buy in. But I can just ask. They already trust me to do good. They know I'm new, and they know I'm not the smartest engineer in the building, but they also know I'm the one who gets lizards out of the glue traps. 

And just because of that, they're willing to follow me. 

---

My boss has a meeting every month or two. It's typically basic house cleaning stuff - reminders about routines we've gotten lazy on, and updates on future projects. Maybe some warnings about problems coming from higher up in the company.

People are, in my opinion, a bit too cynical about the meetings. It stems from people not trusting our boss, which again, I understand, because it would make so much more sense if he wasn't trustworthy. It's a testament to the man's incredibly unhealthy priorities that he is. But as we made it to the end of the meeting, one of bullet points was: 

Do NOT mess with animals in the building. 

So I looked at my techs, and they looked at me, and when he got to the point, he was so scathing I actually just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. He said basically that he'd heard some reports about someone in the building handling animals that found their way in and got stuck, and that he just wanted to emphasize how insanely inappropriate that was, not to mention dangerous, and that if he needed to speak to anyone about it again, there would be severe consequences. 

I was willing to just take the shame and move on. I was. But one of my techs is old. Old enough he could've retired two years ago. And his actual literal goal is to one day get angry, yell at someone, and storm out. That's how he wants to retire. So instead of biting his tongue like everyone else, he stood up and said: I hate the glue traps. You hate the glue traps. We all hate glue traps. But we've all sat here for years, ignoring the little things that get stuck in them, watching them die, and then Bab's comes in, and he is the first person in decades to give enough of a shit to start pulling the lizards out. And I don't want him to stop. 

Get humane traps or shut up but we are not going back to the old way of just letting things starve. 

And my boss actually froze up. He got all wide eyed and stared at Marc, and then the other techs jumped in, and there was a very small but intense rebellion in the meeting and my boss kept trying to interrupt while getting absolutely bowled over by this gang of angry middle aged air force vets, and eventually he just went 

I will speak with Babylon about this afterwards! After! And then he will speak with everyone else, but I have more points to cover. 

So they went silent, and my boss rushed through the last five minutes, and we all adjounred. The techs really didn't like that I was going in alone - they thought our boss was going to try and shout me into compliance. Marc in particular was like, Look, if he tries bullying you, stand your ground, and if he threatens anything, just come get us, and we'll give him hell. 

So armed with that, I went to my boss's office. I sat in the chair across from him, and he kept his composure for maybe five seconds before just flopping back into his chair. 

I had no idea you were saving lizards, he said, but I'm glad you are. I always hated seeing them die in the glue.  

I wasn't expecting that. I was about to ask him what the comment from the meeting was about then, but he answered that before I even got the chance.

A snake got into the building last week, and - someone picked it up and chased a coworker around. Turns out that coworker was severely afraid of snakes, and now it's a shitshow. We're a small site, and now I can't ask those two to work together anymore, to say nothing about how the snake fared after all that. Being upset about that is a reasonable thing, right? 

And he gave me a look like he actually wanted an answer, so I said Yeah, totally, chasing a coworker around with a snake is a dick move. Especially if that coworker is already afraid of snakes. 

And he said Exactly! and then we sat there a few moments longer. He looked so incredibly tired that I did, actually, feel kind of bad for him. And then he somehow managed to sink even further into his chair, and said

Look, I know I'm not a good guy. But I'm not evil. I'm not some sort of crazy asshole that's going to demand that everyone watch lizards starve to death. When you go back downstairs, could you try to pass that on? That I'm not evil? 

I said Sure because it wasn't a hard request, and he looked relieved. I actually made it halfway out before I realized I had a question. 

Who grabbed the snake? I asked. 

Not supposed to talk about it, he said. But whoever comes to mind first is probably right. 

ThatGuy? I asked. And he looked me in the face, nodded his head yes, and said No. 

---

The techs seemed a little disappointed that they didn't get to storm the boss's office, but were otherwise in good spirits. They were actually a little bit embarrassed to hear about the snake story - apparently, it wasn't much of a secret. It'd just slipped their minds because it happened three weeks ago. 

We did maintenance after that, the same basic repairs we did every week. The meeting had been stressful and it was a relief to work with my hands. When the parts were reinstalled, everything cleaned and smooth and ready to go, Marc found me again. 

You know what the lesson of today is? he asked. And there were quite a few answers to that that I could have taken - from don't assume the worst of people to be careful with how you spend your trust - we all need it more than we think. 

But instead I said what? because I wanted to hear what his answer was going to be. 

That I got your back, he said. Then he clapped one very, very large hand on my shoulder, gave it a good squeeze, and walked back to dosimetry lab.

---

The next day, Marc gave me a package and told me to open it in my office. I was suspicious, but I followed the request.

Cardboard gave way to a small baggie, obviously full of fabric, which opened to reveal a t-shirt that read

"I Am the Motherfucking Lizard King."

I looked at it, I loved it, and then I got an idea. I went to my boss's office and knocked on the door. When he opened it, I asked him if he would be willing to allow something very unprofessional to happen for morale building purposes.

How unprofessional? he asked. I held the shirt up in answer. He gave the shirt a short look over and snorted.

You can wear it on weeks without customers, he said. Which just so happened to include that week.

I'll pass on that it came with your blessing, I replied, and he looked oddly relieved.

Thanks, he said. And then I went downstairs.

---

The techs were very, very happy to see the shirt. And while my boss's reputation remains in tatters, and probably will be until he moves (or dies), the next time there was a meeting, there was quite a bit less complaining about how mere presence. Which is, I guess, a start.

We'll see if he squanders it.

[asiatic-apple]

If there’s one thing Caleb is loud and passionate about, it’s his absolute hatred for anyone who uses the term “granny panties” like it’s some kind of insult. Especially if it’s to mock the idea of plain, comfy underwear in any cut or style that isn’t the small scrap of a thong.

He already grimaces every time he hears his fellow uni classmates indulging in disgusting locker room talk, but one day, he overhears some asshole talking way too loud about how his girlfriend didn’t wear anything “sexy” the first time they got intimate.

And the second the words “granny panties” come out of that idiot’s mouth, Caleb is marching over, looking pissed and ready to educate the group of boys snickering in the corner.

“What exactly do you mean by that?” he asks, voice sharp and unimpressed.

Caleb absolutely towers over every guy there, but even if he didn’t, the dark look on his face would be enough to shut them up. Still, the only one dumb enough to keep running his mouth is the guy who started it all. Caleb doesn’t even try to hide the way he rolls his eyes when the guy makes another half-assed joke about his girlfriend showing up in “ugly” panties.

This isn’t just a pet peeve for Caleb. It’s a hill he’s fully prepared to die on.

First, he has to rein in his annoyance that there are actually people out there who don’t appreciate a good pair of cotton underwear. Like, seriously? Do these bozos really need lace and frills to find a woman attractive? Just because the wrapping isn’t flashy doesn’t mean the present underneath is any less sweet.

He’s this close to banging his head against the lockers as he launches into a full-blown rant. And yeah, it turns into a thing. He’s breaking down the myth that any underwear that isn’t deemed “sexy” somehow counts as “granny.” Comfort doesn’t mean boring, and high-rise doesn’t mean unsexy.

His voice is gaining volume and causing heads to turn in concern as he’s citing studies, talking about vaginal health, explaining why breathable cotton is literally recommended—by doctors, no less. He’s throwing out terms like “moisture-wicking” and “pH balance” while giving these losers the dirtiest look imaginable.

And the other guys? They're just standing there, blinking at him like he’s grown two heads. Caleb couldn’t care less if they thought he was clinically insane. He stood by every damn word.

He’s fuming, practically vibrating, steam probably spewing from his ears. Because how the hell are these guys lucky enough to be inches away from a pair of soft, comfy, cute panties and not get immediately overwhelmed with the desire to bury their face in them out of sheer appreciation?

Once he’s finally done with his rant (he’ll swear up and down he changed at least one life that day, even if those idiots are a lost cause in reality), all he can think about is you. You and your cute, comfy underwear that he used to steal straight from your hamper like some kind of perverted pack rat.

It didn’t matter what kind you wore. Whether it was a lacy thong, high-waisted briefs, plain cotton, or something silky—he cherished every single pair because they were yours. Because they had the privilege of sitting nice and pretty on your hips, pressed just right against your perfect pussy (he hasn’t seen you like that yet, but god, the mental image alone could ruin him).

And later, when he’s alone in his dorm and thinking about you a little too hard, he actually tears up a bit. Just sits there, clutching one of your forgotten panties like it’s some sacred relic from a past life, missing you so much it physically hurts. Imagining the day he’ll get to prove every dumbass like that one in the locker room dead wrong—and prove himself right.

He’s already making a plan while sniffling through his tears and gently petting the soft cotton in his hands. When he finally returns to Linkon to see you again, he’s going to remind himself—very thoroughly—why any and all panties are holy. And why he’ll defend them to his dying breath.

[bodhiscurls]

you are in love. ( clark kent )

one night, he wakes strange look on his face. pauses, then says "you're my best friend", and you knew what it was- he is in love. all the chances clark has to confess his feelings for you never feels like the right time; that's until you're gone out of town for a work trip and he can't deny how his soul yearns for yours in a way he can no longer hold it together, even if it means declaring it in a sea of people at baggage claims.

pairing: clark kent x reader

themes: fluff! best friends to lovers, two idiots pining and in denial, love confession (DUH)

masterlist.

clark kent is sure he's loved you all his life; he says that with great earnest and sincerity. it's coming up to the five year mark of your friendship and clark would say that his life never really started until he met you- like you set off something inside of him; thus, he's loved you for every moment he's truly felt like his life was worth living.

the moment he realised he was in love with you was when he felt his heartbeat come to a complete standstill. one second the two of you were lying on his bedroom floor, your legs raised up against the wall as he tangled his with yours as you rested your head on his outstretched arm. the feeling of having you rest all your weight on him, so relaxed and unguarded- clark can not think of a better use for his muscle mass. he ignored the little pangs of soreness creeping in from lying on wooden floor for hours because it's only the beginning of what he would endure to spend lifetimes with you.

he looks over, your eyes trained onto the ceiling and you feel yourself drifting off to sleep, eyes closing gently. the safety net of clark's bedroom and the body milimetres from yours that promises no harm will come to makes you feel featherlike; floating off the ground where nothing can touch you.

"what?" you mumble, a small smile growing on your lips as you feel the warm stare heat at your skin.

"nothing," he returns immediately, suddenly bashful though he doesn't take his eyes away from you at any point. longing burns in his body to reach out and hold you closer, let his hands dip lower than a friendly hug and kiss you- not on the cheek to say goodbye but right smack centre on your lips, on your neck, anywhere you'll let him have you.

one of your eyes open in a wink and you take a peek at him, "clark, i can feel you burning holes into my head," and you close it again, focusing on the slight tense of his arm beneath you and you use him as a pillow.

comfort and ease fills clark and he decides that he's never really loved anyone like the way he has with you before. i mean sure he loves lois, his mother, his dog, sometimes jimmy, but he doesn't see himself sharing a home with them- locking up and sleeping on the side facing the bedroom door, coming home from work and cooking their favourite meals to see them smile, dragging his body after a long day of saving the damn world just to see his own. clark kent would burn the world for you, set it alight and probably himself on fire too if you'd ask him to just so you wouldn't get your hands dirty with it. he doesn't look at his friends and think how their hands would feel in his, how they would feel up against a wall with him, how when they're apart he feels as though the whole universe is off tilt and he can't even breathe.

you're burning holes into my heart, he thinks.

and when the silence skips a beat and feels too long, the words are the tip of his tongue, but instead he reaches out and kicks your foot gently before you attack in a vicious game of footsies.

you soften as you meet his gaze once more and he nudges closer to you so you're less than an inch away from him before he whispers in the air,

"you're my best friend."

...

over the coming months, he's tried to tell you how he feels.

his invitations of going out on a date are always undermined by you thinking its just two friends hanging out.

he wakes up an extra half hour early to join your commute and you think its because he loves the fresh coffee you make from your fancy machine for him when you spot him- you are terrible at making coffee- it tastes like pure gasoline, so much that he knows theyre bad for the environment but clark tries to think of ways of letting you down gently, recommending you just use the pods instead of grinding down the beans yourself.

he carried around the mistletoe at christmas, hoping to catch you under the right doorframe- hang it over your head and lay his heart bare on yours. except you're allergic, sneeze profusely right in the direction of his face and almost die in embarrassment. you hide for the rest of the day and clark has to bribe you with ice cream and endless reassurement to let you know it's all okay.

he tries to get lois to set you up on a blind date (and just like in the movies, he'll turn up) but all you could do was blink in confusion- "i have clark, i don't need to date," and he fucking loved the words leaving your mouth, like the sentiment is truly there but you're just not completely aware. he did however have to pull an emergency stop in the elevator, regulate his breathing and stop his heartbeat from bursting in his ears- because you had him. and the acknowledgement set his soul alight.

he even switched tactics- desperate times called for desperate measures. he wore your favourite coloured shirt, one that fit just a little too right. leaned up to grab your favourite coffee mug, flexing his bicep as he lowered it and pretended to inspect the design on it, knowing damn well he's the poor lovesick fool who bought you it. he rolled his sleeves, baring his forearms as he towered over your chair, leaning in extra close to point at some correction on your computer screen that displayed your latest article. it was rewarding- he got stares, stutters and a rosy blush that melted his brain to jelly as he tried hard to photograph that memory and hang it in the walls of his mind- a room built just for thoughts of you. and soon, if not already, you would have taken over the space completely, all unknowingly.

the words are on the tip of his tongue every single day; rotating between an "i love you more than i can understand how to," "i want forever with you" and "am i really about to blow up this friendship?"

the last always gets him, always.

even when lois places a firm touch in support to his shoulder- "they're crazy about you clark, you just don't see it because you're wrapped up in your own feelings." and all he can focus on is how your touch doesn't feel anything like lois' and it sends him into another spiralling frenzy. how could you make him feel this way and not have a single idea?

his resolve almost breaks when you're sitting across him.

"catch you for dinner when you get off?" he calls out as he passes your desk on his way to where the printers are. its quicker if he just walks in a straight line but he loves to make a detour to catch sight of you- but when lois asks with a knowing grin he's getting in his extra steps and all that.

"would love too but, can't," you raise your voice, eyes scanning the screen and clark can see the glare reflecting in your glasses. its blinding. but its your voice that stops him so suddenly in his tracks and he turns around stealthy, almost knocking poor jimmy trying to navigate alongside him.

"why not?" he asks incredulous- it's the first time in history you've ever blown him off.

"have to pack," you shrug, fingers aggressively smashing the keyboard and clark starts to walk his way back over to you. leaning obnoxiously over the computer head to get in your line of view. you try and swat him away offhandedly but he grabs your wrist, caught in air motion and the skin to skin connection rumbles across your veins.

"okay?" he drags out, ignoring how his stomach flutters in his body, knocking into all his internal organs to let them in on whats happening to clark kent right now. "packing for what?" he quizzes.

"interview out of state, celebrity clientele so i have to accomadate for their schedule," you slowly take back your arm from his hold and clark immediately misses the heat radiating from your body as you leave him to ice out under the cold once more.

"when are you leaving?"

"two,"

"pm?" and you shake your head,

"am," you correct.

"but that's in like ten hours."

"wow clark, i didn't know you could count," you quizz your brows sarcastically, "whats up with the interrogation, kent?"

"well i am a journalist," he defends, "and for safety reasons i'll need travel details, hotels, anything."

"or," you look up to him, neck craning at the distance which he stands so tall at, "i will see you on thursday when i get back." thursday is four days away. his heart cries and lurches at the thought of not being in your vicinity but he swallows like the grown and very brave man he is.

"thursday," he repeats slowly, "thursday." if he repeats it enough like a mantra and engrave it into his soul or say it like a prayer, maybe thursday would come a lot quicker and he wouldn't have to pretend like he isn't bursting at the seams.

"hey," you pause, "you okay?" your voice lowering an octave, he recognises it as the soft one you reserve just for him and momentarily it calms the stormy waters keeping them at bay.

"yeah," he breaths, hoping it doesnt sound as high pitched and reeking of lies as it did in his head when he rehearsed it fifty thousand times, "yeah."

...

he doesn't get to see you off, a vigilante attack steals his attention that he misses you leaving your apartment and before he knows it you've disappeared into the tedious timings of the airport.

he settles for the facetime calls where he gets a sliver of your face, a ramble of your voice and the smile that makes him believe that this will all be over soon and he can get back to living his purpose in life: being with you.

the space is good, he thinks. the space is nice- it's healthy. it's made him even more sure of the feelings he feels and he knows that this building between you is more than friendship; its real life fucking love and pure romance from the novels. its in the mundane moments that you make feel so special- in the highs and adrenalines of life where he only ever sees you.

its in the way he suddenly feels complete when he sees your body standing at baggage claim. it's only been four days but it feels like a lifetime without you- the constant force in his life that before he knows it, his legs are picking up at lightning speed crossing the distance within seconds.

"hey!" he calls out, tossing and tackling between busy bodies in the crowd and you turn around slowly at the sound of your best friend towering over everyone. a smile grows on your face, spreading pure sunshine all over and you abandon your case- start sprinting to meet him in the middle. the pace is off, his strides are quicker than yours that he's sent barrelling into you as he pulls you in to a stop. you're airborne suddenly, lifting you off the ground as he feels your laughter in his neck.

"i missed you too, clark," your voice rumbles, the vibrations tickling your spine as he lowers you into the ground with a bone crushing hug.

the emotions are flying everywhere for him and there's a look in his eyes you can't pinpoint. theres soft clark, ambitious clark, clark who mysteriously disappears and is on edge, clark who's the smartest guy in the damn room, clark who drinks your coffee even though you know its horrible as shit- you just keep making it to see how long he'll keep up the act, when he decides to just give in. clark who looks at you like you've hung the stars in his sky, who carried around mistletoe all christmas but you stupidly thought it was for lois lane. you've seen all the versions of clark and loved them all the same; but this wild look in his eyes- this feels new and unfamiliar.

but it's the clark that's about to create a whole new balance and orbital shift in your universe.

"i'm in love with you," the words spill out quickly like he's drowning in his thoughts- the cage is locked and its overflowing and his body feels just too heavy to swim up to the surface and out, "and i thought i could bury it down, hide it if thats what it would mean for us to always stay best friends and keep what we have but i just can't do it anymore. those four days? they felt like a lifetime of hell. i don't know who i am without you like i'm me but i just like who i am a hell of a lot better when you're with me. i love you and i've been dying to say it- hoping you'll feel the same way and i get it if you don't i mean who could be worthy of your love? you're fucking incredible-"

"clark-"

"and i'm sorry for laying this all on you right now, i would wait thousands of years in silence- pure burning yearning silence just to be with you and it would be a fucking nightmare-"

"clark-" you try again, with more urgency

"but i'd do it a million times over because existing without you seems a far worse feat and i-"

you crash your lips into his and damn sparks fly- clark's pretty sure a solar system has just burst itself, possibly his as his lips mould against yours like a perfect slot. its everything he's imagined it to be and he never wants to separate himself from you. just how long does he think he can go without air? maybe, today he should put it to the test. you don't know when he slips off the glasses, angling his face to yours to make this more comfortable for you until a throat clears and you jump back slightly. a mother stands with her child, shooting the two of you disapproving glances but you're too preoccupied with your best friend to even find the smallest fuck to give.

"oh just shut up, you giant idiot," you mumble against his lips and break apart, clark moves to rest his forehead on yours still stealing a glance into your softened eyes, though theres a glint of giddiness that undeniably shines through.

"yes, ma'am," he mumbles in his flushed daze.

"i'm in love with you too," you breathe. "have been for a while but the moment's never just felt-"

"right," he finishes, voice synchronising with yours as yiur heart beats start to dance to your own tune. "is this okay?" he murmurs, as you rest your head on his chest and he rocks you in his embrace.

it feels like that night in his bedroom those months back, though he doesn't need to be in his apartment- he has you in his arms and you're all he's ever known to be his home.

"it's perfect," your voice is muffled into his knitted sweater.

yeah, you are, he thinks. you're his best friend and he's fucking in love with you and whats even better is- you're also head over heels in love with him too.

riya saying hi: ok i'm a little obsessed w this one- i love me a pining clark! i think next on my list will have be a little superman saving the world but clark kent coming back to you at the end of it idk yet- still deciding i need a good song to get me going- if anyone has any good recs LET ME KNOW ‼️‼️‼️

[btdemaru]

Hello~ can I plz request Saja Boys separately react to having a small argument with their girlfriend before she hits them with the: "That's it, no sex for a week!" So in conclusion, tries to put them on a sex ban because she's upset with them. Dom! Saja boys plz.

NO NUT. ALL NERVE — THE SAJA BAN.

You put your foot down and said "no sex" after an argument out of impulse. Bad idea. Now? They're reacting in their own devastating ways.

Pairings - Jinu x reader, Abby x reader, Romance x reader, Mystery x reader, Baby x reader

Type - seperate | 5.3k words

Warning - cunnilingus, oral, pussydrunk abby, squirting, semi public (mystery), mean!baby, sixtynine, creampies, petnames, curse words, messy, whimpering.

JINU SAJA — LOVE STRATEGIST

It wasn’t your most mature idea.

But after Jinu’s comment about your 'questionable impulsive management,' or whatever it is that he blabbed about— you decided to take action. Swift, decisive, a very absolutely most petty action you've ever done.

"No sex," you said, arms crossed, perched on the bed in nothing but one of his oversized shirts. "You’re officially banned."

He looked up from his tablet slowly, the dim lamp behind him making his cheekbones look sharper than usual. One brow raised.

"Banned," he repeated flatly.

You nodded with complete smugness as if you won something.

"Until further notice. Strategic retaliation." You added, trying to be just a little bit in control more than he was.

There was a long, quiet pause. "You do realize," he murmured, setting his tablet down with care, "that I could win this in a single move, right?"

You blinked.

He got up.

You blinked faster.

Jinu approached in a calm, methodical manner and sat on the edge of the bed like a man preparing a chessboard. His voice was low, coaxing.

"You’re simply ruffled—" he spoke before you cut him off with an offended expression . "Ruffled? What am i? A bird?" Jinu sighs with a gentle smile that teetered on the edge of smirking, "crabby? grouchy? either way that’s when you say things like this."

He leaned in slightly. "But you forget something, love."

You narrowed your eyes.

"What?"

He touched nothing. Only let his breath brush your cheek as he spoke "i’m a strategist."

You swallowed.

"And you’re an idiot if you think I won’t outlast you," you replied, though your voice wobbled slightly.

He chuckled softly but it was obvious how confident he is. "I’m not trying to break the rules, love. I’m trying to make you reconsider them."

His hand rose slow, slow but stopped just beside your face, not quite touching.

"Look, I'll play by your rules. I won’t kiss you. I won’t touch you." Raising both his hands in the air in fake defeat. "But I’ll talk to you like this. I’ll stand close enough for you to remember.. everything. I’ll brush by with my cologne and never look back."

You inhaled sharply.

He grinned. Devilish. Beautiful.

"You want to play with restraint, sweetheart? You forget who you’re up against."

And maybe he's right, because on day three you were already losing.

Two days were easy, busying yourself with everything you could.

Every glance he gave you came wrapped in velvet and challenge. He’d whisper praise in your ear while you brushed your teeth. Bring you coffee in bed shirtless, just shirtless enough to be suspicious. Read next to you on the couch, legs touching just enough to remind you what he wasn’t doing.

You tried to hold out.

You failed spectacularly.

You found him in the living room, halfway through some dry nonfiction book he's not even actually reading.

He didn’t even look up when you stood in front of him, arms folded. "You smug bastard." You barked.

Jinu closed a page with a saved bookmark. "Hmm?"

"You know what you’re doing." Trying to at least catch a glimpse of his facade faltering. But he stayed.

He placed down the book gently and finally met your gaze.

"Do i?"

You stepped closer. Straddled his lap nothing more than a flimsy oversized white plaid shirt with no panties. No nothing. Perhaps he'll give in.

He didn’t move. Didn’t touch you.

"Say it," he murmured.

You frowned. "Say what?"

"Say the ban is over." It was more of a demand.

You huffed. Looked away.

He leaned closer, voice silk

"Say it, or I’ll stop." He could smell your arousal, could see the way your pink folds were tacky and slick with your desire. It made his mouth water, made his cock jerk and leak in his pants as he gazed at the feast laid out before him.

Swiping two long digits from the bottom to upwards, grabbing as much as he could. Parting his fingers creating a glossy web and your composure shattered. "Fine," you muttered. "Ban’s over."

"Louder." He plunged two fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt, pumping them in and out of your velvet walls, stretching you open, preparing you for what was to come. His thumb rubbed relentless circles over your clit.

You glared. "Jinu—"

Tilting his head, looking entirely too pleased.

He curled his fingers just right, rubbing against that G-spot, making your back arch off the bed and your hips buck wildly against his hand.

"Shit, i said—" trying your best to utter the words, "the ban is o-over."

Big palms reached down and gripped his thick shaft, aligning the broad head with your soaked, fluttering entrance. Slowly, torturously, you sank down, feeling your silky walls parting for him, welcoming him inside.

Inch by inch, you took him in, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss as you felt yourself being split open, stuffed so full that you swore you could feel him in your fucking throat.

"So fucking good f'me, missed this pussy s'much." Jinu was no better, mumbling nonsense as he lost himself the second your folds rested on his balls.

With a moan, you began to move, lifting your hips until just the tip of his shaft remained inside you, before slamming back down, taking him to the hilt once more. You set a steady rhythm, your hips undulating as you rode him with wanton abandon, lost in the pleasure of being so deliciously full.

every ridge and vein of his huge cock dragging along your sensitive walls as you fucked yourself on him, could feel the way he jerked and throbbed with each bounce, as if he was fighting not to just flip you over. "So good— oh fuck- so good n pretty."

Walls began to flutter and clench around his pistoning shaft, gripping him like a silken fist as your orgasm approached.

"Fuck, can feel you squeezing me..." Jinu grunted, his eyes squeezing shut as he battled to hold back his own release, determined to make you come undone first.

you screamed his name, your voice raw and ragged as your orgasm finally crashed over you, your vision going white as lightning zapped up your spine. Your pussy clenched down hard on his plundering cock, the walls rippling as you came all over his shaft.

As much as you hate to admit, he won.

ABBY SAJA — TOUCH DEPRIVED?!

"You banned me?!"

Abby stood in the kitchen doorway like you’d just slapped out of his hand. His jaw dropped, one sock sliding slightly off his foot from how fast he’d run in after hearing your declaration.

"No kisses. No touching. And definitely no sex" You crossed your arms with dramatic finality.

He blinked. "Wait, wait, wait— back up." Quickly rambling on as he panicked, "That’s like, the whole relationship combo meal?!" Face turned even paler than a canvas. "Babe, be serious."

You arched a brow and picked up your mug with the calmness of a god exacting divine punishment.

"You said I overreacted to a ‘small thing’—aka, you forgetting to tell me about that super important interview until literally-" You jabber at him before dropping the nuke, "two hours before leaving for OUR DATE."

Abby winced. "Okay, yeah. That was... okay. Look, I suck at dates! And calendars! And remembering things unless they scream!"

"Well I’m screaming now," you said sweetly, sipping your tea.

Abby let out a sound like a wounded seal. "But i'll starve! I could never last a day let alone a week without your—"

Groaning at Abby's annoying excuses, "Should’ve thought of that before you tried to hug me mid-fight and said, 'C’mon babe, we can argue later after some rounds'"

"I WAS NERVOUS." he yelled, then shrunk immediately.

But nonetheless he still had to put up with the no sex ban for quite awhile, promising himself he'll last just so it wouldn't upset you.

An hour later however, he was in full breakdown mode.

You were curled up on the pool lounger just outside the Saja's penthouse, peacefully ignoring the way Abby was flopping dramatically over furniture nearby.

Every five minutes "This ban is ruining my mental health."

Another five minutes "I will disintegrate if I can't have you right now."

For the tenth time "Is cockwarming banned too or can I at least kiss you?"

He dragged the pool lounger that was near to combine with yours before collapsing next to you with a sad little sigh. "I miss my favorite food, 'm hungry" he said mournfully, eyes wide and childlike.

You resisted. Oh, you tried. But when he peeked up at you through messy hair, face pouty and boyish and full of unsaid apologies as his bulky arms peel your legs apart, your heart cracked.

And just when you were about to give in

"Wait—" he said quickly, holding a finger up. "Is the ban officially lifted? Or are you just weak for my stupidly handsome god given face?"

You grabbed your towel to smack him, only for him to place it under your hips.

"You’re lucky your stupid face is cute." Palming his face trying to block it away from melting your guards down.

'So that’s a yes?" he said, grinning way too fast.

"One," you warned.

"Then I’m making it COUNT." His tall frame folding like a house of cards, movements clumsy and uncoordinated. With all the restraint he had left putting your legs on his broad patterned shoulder. Too warm. Too eager.

You gasped as his tongue finally made contact, the slick, hot muscle parting your slick folds and delving deep into your dripping hole. Abby let out a loud, messy slurp as he began to eat you out with wild abandon, his tongue plunging in and out of your clenching channel, lapping up your fragrant juices like a man starved.

"So- mfff so fuckin' sweeeet." Drool dripped down his chin and onto your thighs as he sucked and slurped noisily, too drunk on you to care about finesse. His sharp eyes fluttered shut in bliss as he savored your tangy essence, addicted to your unique flavor that danced on his tongue. "Can eat you all mpff day, y'know?"

"C-can't get enough of this fucking pussy," he slurred, his words punctuated by fat, open-mouthed kisses pressed against your sopping wet slit.

Sucking the sensitive nub between his lips as he lashed at it with the rough pad of his tongue. At the same time, he plunged two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping hole, pumping them in and out of your clenching channel at a brutal pace.

Your back bowed off the lounger, your tits heaving as you gasped for air as your first orgasm crashed over. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of your cunt, making a mess of the lounger and the pool deck, marking his face and hair with streaks of your essence.

Abby just grinned like the fucking fool he was, drunk on pleasure and pussy juice, eagerly swallowing every drop he could catch. "You 'kay?" He smooched your pussy folds as if he's talking to it.

The moment you nod a simple 'okay' it's as if you've grant him infinity. He was already diving back in for more, his tongue lapping into your abused hole.

"Abby 's too much— oh god" you whimpered, squirming on the lounger, your body hypersensitive from the intense pleasure. But Abby was too far gone to hear your feeble protests, too consumed by his own desperate need to keep tasting you, to keep pushing you to the very edge of your limits.

The wet, obscene squelches and schlicks of his fingers plunging into your soaked flesh filled the air as your second orgasm crashed. ""I...I can't..." you sobbed, your fingers fisting in his hot pink hair, trying desperately to pull him away "yes you can, baby.. c'mon please just one more."

One more, then another, third, fourth.

He's gonna make it count.

ROMANCE SAJA — ONLY READY.

You didn’t mean to yell. Not at him. Not like that.

See, the argument had started small. A forgotten detail, a missed plan, something he said offhandedly that rubbed your tired nerves the wrong way.

You were exhausted. Overwhelmed. Your words sharper than they needed to be.

"Maybe if you actually listened to me when I talk—"

He'd gone quiet at that, like always. Letting you burn hot while he stood calm in the smoke.

"You’re right," he’d said. That was the thing about Romance. He never raised his voice. Never pushed back when you were hurting.

That only made it worse.

So you’d said it — a line flung out in the heat of frustration.

"No sex. Just not until you're off the hook."

And Romance blinked once. That was all. A gentle pause like he was giving space for a retraction. But when none came, he just nodded.

"Alright," he murmured. "Whatever you need, love."

You thought it would feel like a win.

Instead, it felt like sleeping in a bed missing its gravity.

He didn’t touch you that night. Didn't kiss your shoulder like he always did before falling asleep. Didn't slide a lazy hand over your hip, or breathe slow against your neck.

Just silence. Gentle and full of distance.

You turned your back on him. But it didn’t help.

Because even with the space, you could feel him.

Romance wasn’t gone. He was just holding back. Out of respect. Out of love.

The next morning, you tried not to show how sorely you missed him. You brushed past his hand when he offered you your coffee. Mumbled thanks. Kept your tone even.

He didn’t push. He didn’t even pout. That somehow made it so much worse.

Romance was domestic in the quietest ways — a hand on your back when you passed, little shoulder squeezes in the kitchen, resting his chin on your head when you were in the fridge too long.

And now? He was a ghost. A warm, visible ghost who would not touch you until you asked him to.

It was excruciating.

By the second day, you were crawling out of your skin.

You tried to bait him. A sleep shirt that was just his own oversized tee. A casual stretch while reaching for something high, back arching in that way he used to immediately notice.

He didn’t take the bait.

"Want me to help with the dishes?" he asked softly behind you that evening.

"No," you said. "I’ve got it."

He leaned a hip against the counter but didn’t move closer.

"I can still touch to you, can’t I?" he asked, voice low and careful.

You swallowed. "Of course."

"Just making sure." His voice dipped. " Sex is off the table, but touches isn’t."

His words were tender, but his presence? Devastating. He smelled like the warm fabric of your sheets and honey soap. He didn’t look mad. Just patient. Infuriatingly patient.

You dropped a sponge in the sink with a frustrated huff.

"You’re really not going to- y'know, fuck me?"

"No." His tone was soft as rain. "Because you said not to."

You turned to him, finally looking up — and his eyes were there, waiting. Soft. Patient. But glowing with affection so thick you could feel it from where you stood.

And you snapped.

"You always make it hard to stay mad at you," you muttered, glaring at the tile.

"I love you," he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. "I can’t undo the things I miss. But I can honor your boundaries, and wait. That’s what I’ve been doing."

You stared at his chest, hand curling into the hem of his shirt.

"...You’re such a cheat," you whispered.

He chuckled, low and warm, and leaned close enough for his breath to kiss your cheek. "You always break before I do."

And you did.

Fingers fisting in his shirt, you pulled him close and finally, finally kissed him.

Not like you were angry. Not like you were desperate.

Like you were coming home

Soft. Leisurely. No urgency — just the kind of reverent touch he gave only when the world had quieted.

"Still mad at me?" he whispered into your temple.

"No," you breathed, lips brushing his collarbone. "Still mad at myself, though."

His fingers curled into your waist.

"You’re allowed to be angry. But don’t punish yourself for feeling."

You kissed his throat, slow and warm.

"Does this mean the ban’s lifted?" he asked, all amusement and silk.

"It’s… under review," you mumbled.

He laughed, low and deep. "Then I’ll keep proving I’m worth parole."

And with that, he flipped you gently onto your back lifting those pathetic excuses for clothes "you're absolutely breathtaking," Romance murmured, his deep, velvety.

He leaned down, peppering your shoulder from behind with soft, open-mouthed kisses, his lips lingering on your skin like he was tasting the finest delicacy.

His hands, strong and warm, skimmed up your sides, his fingers trailing lightly over the swell of your breasts, teasing the underside of your hardened nipples. He cupped the soft globes, kneading the pliant flesh gently.

Romance slid his hands down to grip your ass, his fingers sinking into the pliant flesh as he held you in place, trapping his cock against your dripping slit. He kneaded and squeezed the globes, pulling them apart slightly before squeezing them back together, the motion making your pussy lips flutter and your juices drip down "look at her, all giddy f'me.."

A needy cry left your lips, "please—"

The musky scent of your arousal permeated the air, filling his nostrils, he rutted his wetting cock onto your folds, collecting as much lubricant as he could. The mushroomy top nudging against your clit leaving electric pleasures.

"Inside.. need— ah fuck- please" and he wasted no time. How can he deny his girl? That wouldn't be romantic.

Romance gripped the base of his shaft, stroking himself slowly as he nudged the engorged head through your drenched entrance pressing forward, letting just the crown breach your tight opening.

A guttural moan tore from his throat, "perfect, so p- perfect." he hissed through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside you before slamming back in, impaling you on his shaft over and over.

Each thrust striking your cervix, his heavy balls slapping lewdly against your ass as he fucked into you with long, purposeful strokes. "Fit just- for me, so filthy n' tight" The kitchen filled with the erotic symphony of flesh meeting flesh, your wanton moans and cries of pleasure punctuated by the wet, obscene squelches plap plap plap as his heavy balls drawing up tight to his body as his orgasm built in intensity. But he was determined to make you come first, Romance slammed into you and ground his pelvis against yours, his pubic bone rubbing against your throbbing clit as his thick shaft pulsed deep inside you. At the same time, he pinched your clit hard between his thumb and forefinger, rolling and rubbing the sensitive nub "cum, come on- ahh s'so fucking tight i cant— come with me."

Your juices gushed out around his pistoning shaft, flooding your channel and dripping down onto the marble countertop below.

His hips jerked erratically as he slammed into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his shaft throbbed and jerked inside you filling to the brim like such a thick creamy gloop.

Kissing your temple gently with soft loving words easing in "Mm.. I'll take it as I'm forgiven."

MYSTERY SAJA — WINNERS, LOSERS.

He came home at 2:47 a.m., the way he always did — quietly, like fog slipping under a locked door. You didn’t hear the front door creak. You didn’t hear his boots. Just the shift of air pressure and the way your spine instinctively knew he was in the room.

You didn’t turn around. Didn’t greet him.

You just curled deeper into the side of the bed he hadn’t touched in four days.

Your voice broke the silence. Cold. Controlled.

"Don’t even think about touching me."

He paused in the dark. You could feel it, the way the stillness rippled, how even the shadows seemed to hold their breath.

You turned to look at him finally, eyes narrowing against the hallway light he’d accidentally let spill through the door.

"I mean it," you said, sitting up. "No touching. No kissing. No sex. I’m not doing this anymore. You disappear whenever you want, and then just show up like nothing happened—like I’m the one waiting for you to breathe life into the room again."

He stood in the doorway, tall and still, the collar of his coat damp with rain.

He didn’t say a word.

He never did.

You expected him to leave again.

Instead, Mystery entered the room.

Slow. Controlled. Silent.

He peeled off his coat first — rain-slick and heavy — draped it over the back of the chair. Then the gloves. Then the harness. All quiet. Methodical.

You could feel the tension in his movements, the restraint in every inch of his body. He didn’t ask for forgiveness. Didn’t try to justify his absence.

He simply walked toward the bed deliberate, firm.

You straightened.

"I said—"

But you cut yourself off when his body leaned over you slowly putting his cheek on your shoulder, nuzzling himself.

It was a silent plea, Mystery lived off of physical touch, he barely talks but every single damn time he wants to communicate its through actions. Refraining him from doing so it's like cutting him off entirely.

He tilted his head, just slightly. Something in your heart softened. Like the way storm clouds break apart before they cry.

His free hand reached up — knuckles brushing your cheekbone, Voice almost unheard, "don't.. ban."

"You can’t just leave and come back and expect me to open up like nothing happened."

His fingers finally grazed your arm. Light. Testing

"I'm sorry."

It was how he spoke when he meant it.

You looked up at him, throat tight.

"If you’re sorry, then stay. Stay here. Stay in this bed. Stay when I need you."

He met your gaze. Unflinching.

Then, in a whisper so low it felt like velvet against your skin. "...I will."

Cunningly enough, he changed subtly for the whole week.

It started subtly.

A hand brushing your lower back when you walked by. A lingering graze along your arm as he handed you your coffee. The way he sat next to you on the couch, knees pressed to yours, thigh warm against your skin, thumb lazily tracing circles against your leg through the blanket.

You glared at him the first few times.

You didn't know how he could be so physically close and still keep his promises.

He wasn’t breaking the ban, no.

He was letting you break it.

Mystery became more present, always near. Always humming something under his breath. Always watching you with a patience that feels like a trap.

You want him to be distant, cold, retreating.

Instead, you get cooked dinners, soft shoulders to lean on, long silences that feel just too comfortable.

It was just irritating, now he wants to spend time with you on the rooftop calling it a 'date'.

You were becoming restless. He knew.

You broke first. He grinned.

You reached up and dragged him down by the collar of his shirt, crashing your mouth to his — rough, hungry, angry.

He groaned into the kiss. Not loud. Just low and wrecked.

Mystery moved with intent. Slow, devastating control. "Still banned?" he rasped against your neck, finally speaking his voice a rare, broken thing, like thunder that doesn’t know how to whisper.

"Yes," you breathed.

He hummed, pressing his hips against yours in a slow roll that made your ban feel like a lie. "Are you sure?" He cocks.

He let you undo him piece by piece, shirt sliding from his shoulders, his breath shallow, his restraint cracking at the seams.

He let you take charge.

He let you use him.

Or at least for now.

"You set stupid rules to see if I'll break 'em." One hand released your breast to slide down your belly, his fingers skimming over your navel before delving between your thighs. He cupped your mound possessively, his middle finger pressing against your slick slit, feeling the wetness that had gathered there.

"Nnngh... you're fucking drenched," Mystery groaned, his voice a low, eerily rumble.

Mystery's long, deft fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, and with a sharp tug, he yanked them down your thighs, baring your dripping slit to his hungry gaze. He drank in the sight of your glistening folds, swollen, just begging to be devoured. Tossing the ruined lace aside, "look at you, putting up a fight when i could've taken care of this." He purred while the thick head of his cock parting your slick petals. "Now.. tell me how much you want this? lift that useless.. rule."

You gasped, trembling.

"Fuck— its lifted i want it." Meeting his smug grin "need.. you, plea—"

he slammed forward, burying every rigid inch of his thick shaft inside you with one brutal thrust. A guttural groan tore from his throat as your silken walls clenched down around him,

Reaching down and pressed his thumb roughly against your sensitive, aching clit. "ohfuckohfuckohfuck!" Wailing at how good you feel around him.

He could feel it, you could feel it. Just before he reached his peak, he abruptly pulled out, his curvy cock slick with your juices. "please cum— with me ohh feels so go-ohd!" fist flying over his thick length as he chased his rapidly building release as he aimed the swollen, leaking tip at your sensitive clit.

Pearly ropes of cum erupted from the tip, splattering lewdly across your oh so sweet cunt, coating your lower abdomen in his hot, sticky seed.

Moonlight casting a glow on both skins, his pale ones almost translucent due to the sleek sweat coating him. Mumbling sorry's and love you's as he desperately nuzzles himself, head spinning high.

BABY SAJA — NO? FINE. ROT WITH IT.

You’d said it on impulse.

"You’re not getting anything tonight. Or tomorrow. Or until I say so."

Baby had stilled mid-step, mid-breath, mid-whatever sarcastic retort he’d had locked and loaded.

And then he just… smiled.

Not a nice one.

The kind that made your spine stiffen and your thighs clench in the same second.

Baby thrives on chaos, so if you, his lover, suddenly bans him from sex, he’s not taking it with quiet grace. Not even close.

He's sarcastic.

He’s petty.

He’s not above throwing a tantrum—but his kind of tantrum is the mean, smug, backhanded compliment-filled type that leaves you wanting to strangle him and kiss him at the same time.

"Ohhh," he drawled, clapping slowly. "How *terrifying."

You scowled. "I’m serious."

"Oh, I know. That’s the funniest part." He turned on his heel, dramatic as always, walking off toward the bedroom with his arms raised like he’d been wrongly imprisoned.

"I hope your moral high ground keeps you warm tonight, sugar." he called over his shoulder. "Because i won’t be giving you allllll this.”

Good. That was the point. Right?

Right?

Days after and Baby was… unbearable.

He still talked to you. Laughed around you. Sat beside you on the couch.

But he weaponized everything.

He’d come out of the shower shirtless and towel-drying his hair, stopping to stretch right in front of you.

"Oh, whoops —didn’t mean to give you a show. Not that it matters. This body’s banned, remember?"

He’d casually flop onto your lap and sigh dramatically.

"God, I’d kill for some stress relief right now. Shame my girlfriend thinks I should suffer."

He’d even sneak a hand on your thighs in the movie theater, "You’re lucky I have restraint, sweetheart. Old me would've had you here already."

You gritted your teeth. "Then maybe I should ban you longer."

He leaned down, lips brushing your ear with that smug little lilt in his voice. "Then maybe I should stop pretending to behave."

It was a big day for the Saja boys, performing up against the Huntrix. All of them were inside their dressing rooms and like a routine, you were in Baby's dangling your feet listening to their music waiting on the tiny touch.

And Baby walks in like a storm.

Pulls the headphones out. Tosses your phone aside. Climbs on top of you, knees on either side of your thighs, bracing his hands by your head.

His eyes—dark. Unamused.

"You done punishing me for shit I didn’t do?"

You blink, speechless.

"No? Great. Then I’m done pretending it doesn’t bother me."

He dips down, face inches from yours.

His voice lowers, pure venom-laced honey. "I could’ve had you crying on my tongue by now. Instead I’m sitting here listening to you pretend you’re fine."

Your throat tightens."You’re not fine. You’re stubborn. And maybe I like that. But it's getting annoying,"

He finally leans down, dipped his head, burying his face between your thighs as he inhaled your scent, groaning at the intoxicating aroma of your arousal.

You whined pushing his head nesr your aching core but he held back. "Now it wouldn't be fair if you get what you want now.. right?."

It happend with a snap of a finger, Baby's laying down the couch with you on top him, ass up near his face just how he loves it. The typical sixty fuckin' nine.

Blowing air onto your folds before he taps it "hurry up, get to work. apologize."

His tongue delved deeper, plunging into your soaked, clutching heat as he feast on your dripping slit. He could feel your walls fluttering and clenching around the slick intrusion.

You were crumbling. But so was he.

His hands gripped your thighs tighter, spreading you wider open to him, allowing him to bury his face deeper into your aching core.

At the same time, Baby guided your hand to his rigid shaft, wrapping your fingers around the throbbing length. He groaned against your dripping folds as you began to stroke him, your fist gliding up and down his thick, pulsing cock. "Ohh yeah, easy ain't it?" The sensation of your soft hand around him and your tongue swirling around the sensitive crown of his erection made his hips buck and jerk, fucking into the tight channel of your fist as he ate your pussy with single-minded intensity. "Bein' such a brat with that ahnn shit- stupid ban."

your pleasured gasps and moans vibrating against his own aching flesh as you lapped and suckled at his swollen balls, your fingers pumping faster along his shaft in response to the building ecstasy. "Ba-ahmp! Baby- mpf"

The show starts in five.

Redoubled his efforts, sucking hard on your throbbing clit as he thrust two fingers knuckle-deep into your spasming sheath, stroking that mushy spot with ruthless precision. "There we go, c'mon- ahk dont suck so hard—"

Your thighs clamping around his head as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your pussy clenched down hard on his fingers, your velvety walls rippling and fluttering "yes yes yes tha's it th'pfff.. tha's it sugar."

Balls-deep in the tight, slick heat of your throat, his shaft jerking and shuddering as thick ropes of scalding cum erupted from the swollen tip. He pumped jet after jet of his potent essence directly down your gullet, "mpff- show mwuch..!?" Gagging hard as cums dribbles out.

His body shuddering and convulsing with the force of his release.

Muffled scream of ecstasy was met by your greedy gulps and swallows, your throat muscles milking his pulsing cock for every last drop of his creamy load as you both rode out the aftershocks of your intense, mind-blowing orgasms.

"Gotta keep the show.. y'know- oh feels s'so empty n good." He grinned, mouth slathered in your.

Tapping his tongue on your folds "let's continue after show yeah? 'least i can focus on stage."

note : i personally liked it, but ngl it is just a little bit rushed. but i hope u still enjoy it, reblogs and likes r lovely!!

[harunayuuka2060]

Child MC: *crying because Leona wouldn't let them pet him*

Ruggie: Leona! Come on!

Leona: No.

Jack: Ugh... Why do they cry so loud?

Leona: You shouldn't have accepted the request of the red idiot to babysit. Now the little herbivore have become our problem.

Ruggie: It'd be easy for us if you'd just let them pet you!

Jack: Ah! I can't take this anymore!

Jack: "Unleash the Beast"!

Child MC: ...

Child MC: *sniffles* Doggie?

Jack: *sigh* I'm a wolf, but whatever.

Child MC: Big doggie... *pets Jack gently*

Ruggie: ...

Leona: ...

Leona: They're gentle.

Ruggie: What? You're feeling regretful now?

Vil: How troublesome.

Epel: Right? We resolved Yuu's situation, but then their baby sibling arrived.

Rook: *chuckles* It could be fate’s way of telling us to repay Trickster’s kindness!

Vil: ...

Rook: *already fond of Child MC*

Child MC: ...

Child MC: *hides behind Vil*

Vil: Rook.

Rook: Yes, Roi du Poison?

Vil: Tone down the cute aggression.

[melmelts]

Mac (Date Everything!) x reader

Take them off, they're in the way!

i got this idea from a tiktok that basically said; 'when ur making out w a nerd and they pause in the middle to take off their glasses'

cw!: suggestive, makeout session, idiots in love ���

word count: ~750

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────

It was a cozy evening with you and Mac sitting next to eachother, each working on their own projects. Ever since you left your old job you've been working hard on starting your own business, that way you won't be put into 'limbo' by your boss ever again, because you'll be your own boss!

You were currently on your fourth hour of designing a website. It was honestly a lot of fun, getting to pick the overall aesthetics of your business, but four hours is still four hours.

You leaned back in your chair and stretched your arms out, only now paying attention to the soft clacking of a keyboard next to you. You turned your gaze to your partner, who seemed to not have noticed your little break, busy with whatever they were working on. You looked at their hands, skillfully typing out word after word, Mac was really good with their hands and they weren't afraid to show it. God their slim fingers decorated by their signature cursor ring really did do something to you...

Your gaze slowly went up, admiring their style, then their perfect posture, their messy but well kept hair, until you found yourself staring at their face. The sun was hitting their face In a way which made them glow, seeming almost angelic. You examined their sharp jawline, straight nose, adorned by their big, circle blue-light glasses, their dark, downturned eyes and pouty lips signaling their unwavering focus. Just staring at Mac and mentally worshipping them truly made you appreciate how lucky you were for having them in your life. Maybe you should show it a little bit more often.

"Hey, Mac?" you tapped their arm

"Yeah? What's up user??" they replied, tilting their head to face you, a few seconds later.

And as they did, you gently cupped their jaw and connected your lips with theirs.

Macs eyes widened, but they accepted the kiss, kissing you back with the same love and tenderness. It was meant to just be romantic and appreciative, but it slowly turned into a soft makeout session, with Mac ocasionally teasing your lips with their tounge.

After a while of messy back and forth you pulled away to catch your breath. Mac did the same but very quickly opened their mouth

"W-what was that for?? Not that I'm complaining ofcourse!! it's just that it's rare for you to initiate any intimacy without a warning...  my processors lagged because I didn't expect that!"

Mac laughed, taken aback by your sudden action.

"I just... felt like kissing you.. you looked cute..." You muttered, a bit embarrassed now that Mac pointed out your unexpected lead.

A rosy blush crept up Macs cheeks.

"Cute? Now you're just going to make my CPU overheat... You've already made my fans whir at maximum speed!"

They pressed their palms against the sides of their face In an attempt to cool themself.

"Ah, you have no idea what you're doing to me..."

They sighed dreamily before leaning close to your face and continuing

"I'm cute? look who's talking. Maybe I should start pampering you with kisses for no reason too"

"Well there is a reason, I did it because I appreciate everything that you do for me... and I wanted to show it"

You confessed, embarrassed at the proximity of your partner.

"That explains it, in that case let me show you my appreciation"

Mac smiled mischievously, after which they closed the gap between your lips.

The kiss initiated by the computer was deep and passionate, wet and messy, with your hands latching onto their neck and Macs grabbing at your waist. Their ring ocasionally got stuck on the fabric of your shirt, causing it to ride up and exposing skin for Macs warm palms to tease. They rubbed circles into your hips with their thumbs, earning pleased noises from you, albeit muffled by their tongue. You stayed like this for what felt like hours, but just as you were beginning to feel extremely hot and bothered, Mac broke the kiss.

They swiped their hand across their forehead, wiping off sweat and tussling their dark hair. They slid their RGB glasses off of their nose with a slight annoyed expression.

"I apologize, these just keep getting in the way. It mustn't be comfortable for you"

They placed the frames on the desk, to avoid anything happening to them.

"And your comfort is what's most important for me"

They looked at you tenderly before slipping into a seductive smirk.

"So, where have we left off?"

[nighttidee]

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄

Lad's men asking you out on a date (part one here. part three here. series masterlist here)

ft Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb

wc: 3181 (approx 700 for each)

warnings: allusions to Mthys (nothing specific), inaccurate depiction of jobs, Caleb's one is a bit obsessive, but that is his whole character lmao

notes: Part two! Im already invisioning part three so let me know if that's wanted, even though I'll probs do it anyway lmao.

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

Xavier was one to watch, to wait until he was certain of his choice. He was good at that, knowing when to act and when to stay, and yet now he couldn't decide what to do. You were plaguing him, you and your smile tormented his mind, invaded his sleep, and yet he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it.

He felt like he was standing on a ledge, a ledge that Jeremiah was laughing at. Xaier shot a glare at his friend as he was pushed further and further into the shop, where he knew you were; he could hear you humming again.

"My favourite assistant!" Jeremiah called out.

"I'm your only assistant!" You laughed as you rounded the corner, flashing a grin that made Xavier's heart stutter in its rhythm.

"Tomato, tomatoe," The brunette man laughed, "My friend needs help picking out some flowers, but I've got a client to call, so could you help him?"

It took everything in Xavier's willpower not to summon his Lightblade and run his friend through. Picking out some flowers?! What was the idiot thinking? He didn't know the first thing about them!

"Sure," You chirped, you turned to Xavier, those stunning eyes of yours glittering, "You're in safe hands, mister..."

"Xavier," He murmured, subtly pulling the strands of silver hair from his eyes.

You nodded and told him your name in return, and he memorised it. He'd spent many sleepless nights trying to figure it out. Jeremiah had only snickered when he'd asked, so he'd been left to his imagination. Now, all of his ideas seemed foolish compared to your answer.

"So..." You spoke softly, "What's the occasion? Celebration? Birthday? Romance? Friendship?"

Xavier opened his mouth, shut it again and considered. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jeremiah with a phone in his hand, grinning at him as he winked encouragingly.

Xavier swallowed, "The third..."

You nodded, "Got it! For an anniversary, I would recommend Red Tulips because they signify true and long-lasting love. Sunflowers are good for portraying the joy they bring you, though!"

"What about for dates?" Xavier inquired softly, "As in, asking someone out on one."

He didn't know why he was saying, well, he did, he just didn't know why he was saying it now. This was only his second time meeting you. He'd only just learned your name. Why was his control over his tongue suddenly slipping?

You hummed thoughtfully, "There isn't a specific flower for asking someone out, but if you know their favourite flower, that would be the best course of action. If not, you can never go wrong with a rose bouquet; they're the flower of love for a reason! Though, personally I'm partial to just one."

He watched as your fingers glided over a rose, its petals unfurling softly.

"Just one?" Breathed Xavier, he had to decide now. Back away from the ledge and into security, or jump off it and see what comes next?

"Yeah. I just find it more intimate, if that makes sense." You laughed gently, "There's something special about knowing someone looked through loads of flowers to find the perfect one just for you."

Xavier swallowed again. He'd spent so long waiting for nothing to ever happen. Why couldn't he be impatient now? Why couldn't he let himself go and pursue something new, something that he wanted?

If he didn't act now, he never would.

"Then," He murmured, reaching for the single rose you'd touched earlier, "I'd like this."

You blinked, brows furrowing as he pressed it towards you, "Um, you're meant to keep the rose until you give it to the person you're trying to ask out."

Xavier felt his lips twitch upwards, "I know."

"Then..." You began.

He leaned forward, ignoring the pulse in his heart, and tucked a few stray strands behind your ear, "A flower for a flower."

Your cheeks flushed with warmth, he could help on his knuckles as he slowly pulled away, waiting for your reaction. He was trying to memorise your features in case this was the last time he saw you.

You smiled, "Where are you going to take me, sunshine?"

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

Sylus had a mission tonight, one he would do anything to complete. Mephisto cawed overhead, guiding him forward to the desire that haunted him. He could hear Luke and Kerian even now, their confused voices as they inquired about his distracted state of mind. He'd been thinking of you ever since you drove away from him, one of the few brave enough to turn their back on him.

He wanted to know you, to caress the cracks in your coyness and find what lurked beneath that chaotic gleam in your eyes. He wanted to peel the layers of your existence off one by one until he found the core of who you were.

And to do that, he needed to find you again. It'd been weeks, but now, with Mephisto's view, he'd finally found you. This wasn't an opportunity he was going to let pass him by. No, he wanted what he wanted, and he wanted it now - you.

His motorbike came to a rumbling halt before another bike, settled against the road, a familiar cat-eared helmet sat snugly on its rider, you. You turned your head and pulled off said helmet, a playful, unreadable expression on your face, "Long time no see."

Sylus leaned forward, flipping his visor up, "To Elysium."

"Trying to buy my information?" You laughed, "I'm scandalised, Sylus."

He blinked. You already knew his name. Something in his stomach twisted, only it wasn't a feeling of fear, but one of fire. It coursed through his body as he hummed, "I don't need to buy your information, sweetie. I'll find that all out soon enough, and don't worry, your name is at the top of my list."

Your eyes narrowed slightly as you studied him, "Then why 'to Elysium'?"

"The winner gets to make one request of the loser." Sylus answered.

Something in your expression shifted, a slyness taking over your features, "A request?"

"Within reason, of course," Sylus chuckled, leaning close, voice dropping to a whisper, "Scared?"

You clicked your tongue and lifted your helmet, "To Elysium."

And you were gone. Both of you bolting through the streets under the eternal night of the N109 Zone, eagerly racing one another for a price Sylus was determined to win. Slyus had a mission tonight, and this was it: he would win, no matter what. It wasn't in his nature to lose.

He could barely see you, the two of you jerking wildly through cars, losing sight of each other as you raced through the roads. The wind burst against Sylus' chest as he pressed down on the accelerator. He saw the blurry form of Mephstio dart into an alley and smirked, cheating was perfectly fine in his books.

He followed his faithful companion and, within minutes, found himself in front of Elysium with a smug grin on his face. When you finally arrived, you took off your helmet, gaze flickering to the mechanical bird that cawed loudly and laughed, "Sneaky."

"I prefer resourceful," Sylus shrugged.

You hummed, tilting your head curiously, "So, what is that you want?"

"Dinner," He grinned.

"Dinner." You said flatly.

"You, me. Dinner," Slyus explained, studying you with great curiosity, wondering what you looked like beneath your biker jacket, "What do you say?"

You pulled out your phone, "I say, add your number. We've got a dinner date to plan."

Slyus' fingers brushed against yours as he grasped your device. He couldn't wait to learn everything he could about you.

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

Rafayel's new art collection had taken the world by storm. Thomas had told him that again and again and again. Auction after auction, commission attempt after commission attempt, invitation after invitation. He was being driven to the brink of madness by the humans around him, who grasped and groped for the opportunity to see inside his mind and find out just what made him the best.

He wouldn't tell them. He never would. And it was easy not to; they believed every little lie and fell for every tiny trick. They weren't interesting at all. Not like you. He'd gone back to the same spot on the beach, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, only to find a ghost of you instead.

You haunted him so viciously that every single painting in his new collection was inspired by you. The paintings of stormy seas, of sweet seas, of seductary seas, were all made in honour of you. And yet they weren't enough, the hints of you in each of them, the shading of the colour of your hair, the highlights, the colour of your eyes, the underpainting the colour of your skin, none of them were enough.

He thought you'd haunt him forever.

And yet, there you stood, staring at one of the paintings still up for auction. The one centred around the seagull reaching for the ocean like his hand wanted to reach for yours.

He left the conversation he was in without a word.

"Miss Marine Biologist," He spoke in greeting. He wondered if he could get your name today. He wanted it.

"Mr Painter," You smiled in surprise, "Or should I say super famous painter Rafayel?"

"Now that's hardly fair!" Rafayel hummed, leaning down slightly, "You know my name, but I don't have a clue about yours, beautiful."

To everyone else, it would've looked like he was leaning down to hear you better, but he wasn't. Lemurian hearing was far superior to humans'; he just liked seeing you flush from his proximity. The hue on your cheeks was the perfect shade, and he itched to match his paints to it, and if he couldn't, he'd make new ones.

You laughed softly, avoiding his eyes as you murmured your name to him. He was already to find ways to encode it into his artwork, maybe he'd use an anagram of your name to title his pieces, maybe he'd match each letter of your name to one of his paints and use that as his palette, maybe he'd secretly spell your name on his painting.

"What do you think?" He asked, slyly sneaking a hand on your back as he guided you closer to his paintings. He delighted in the warmth that bled into his fingertips and palm.

"I think they're...Beyond words," You murmured, eyes dancing across the artistry before your eyes. Rafayel's burning heart flushed, softening with the gentle wave of your earnest response.

"And here I was trying to flatter you, precious," Rafayel chuckled, "You're secretly a charmer, huh."

"No..." You shook your head, trying to turn away, only to find Rafayel's head close to yours, caging you, refusing to let you refusing to meet his gaze. Every inch of him seared with an intensity that demanded your attention.

"No...?" He tilted his head, slipping his tongue over his lower lip briefly.

"No..." Your eyes flickered to the side. "People are looking."

"Then let's leave," Rafayel responded.

You blinked in bewilderment, "What?"

"Let me show you my studio," Rafayel breathed, pulling you closer when he saw you hesitate, "Come on, precious. Don't you want to see how similar my work is to the sea?"

You considered it, "I think your work is as complex as the sea. Just like its maker."

A grin split over Rafayel's lips, "You think I'm as...what was it you said....beautiful and brutal as the sea?"

"Yes," You answered firmly.

He smirked and slipped his hand to your wrist, thumb caressing the pulse point that lay there, "Only one way to find out."

And then, the two of you escaped, ignoring the calls of Thomas the whole way.

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

"This Colonel Xia, status report," Caleb hummed in his private office on his ship. He'd spent the last hour doing checks with all the ships in his fleet to ensure everything was in order - they were only a few hours away from returning to Skyhaven, after all.

He was dudicious, concise and ruthless, that's what made him the best colonel in the entire Farspace Fleet. He would not have his crew doubt him now, no matter how tiresome it was to check on all of his pilots. He leaned backwards in his chair and waited patiently for his crews response.

"All systems are fine, Colonel, we're ready to go," A familiar voice called over comms.

Something in Caleb sparked to life at the words. He knew that voice, it replayed over and over again in his head since he'd heard it. He clutched the armrests on his chair tightly. Just how many times had he passed you in HQ's halls, managing only a few words here and there? He'd tried every method to form some relationship with you that went beyond Colonel and Crew Member.

And now, away from prying eyes, he finally had the chance.

"How are you doing, rookie?" He hummed, readjusting his cuff links.

"Great," Came your soft response, "I never thought Deepspace could be more beautiful."

Caleb blinked, "You think it's beautiful?"

"Don't you?" You inquired over the comms, and he wondered what you looked like. Were you fiddling with your uniform like him? Did you have your hat off? Were you completely relaxed?

Caleb considered his answer before landing on, "It's dangerous."

"All beautiful things are," You rebutted, and he heard your gentle laugh, "Poisonous flowers, the sea, the snow, the sun, they're all beautiful and all of them could kill you. The Deepspace Tunnel is no different, Colonel."

"Caleb."

"...Huh?"

"If we're going to have a deep discussion I feel like we should leave titles behind," Caleb answered, loosing his tie to escape the heat creeping up his neck. Wasn't space meant to be cold?

"Alright, Caleb. You've already got my name," You responded slowly, as if savouring the taste of his name on your tongue. Caleb shivered.

"Indeed I do," He'd obsessed over your name, it became his favourite alcohol to get drunk off, "What is it that you find so beautiful about Deepspace?"

You hummed, considering, "It's new. I don't want to spend the rest of my life comforted by the known, I want confront the unknown and space is just that. Stars millions of light years away, planets hidden by shadows, the secret of the Deepspace Tunnel, I want to see them all. I'm happy to spend my life trying to."

Something in your words hit Caleb harder than it meant to. He was a a boy again, holding his plane toy as he stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars Josephine had stuck to his ceiling. Maybe he could look at Deepspace like that again. Maybe he could ignore all the problems waiting for him at Skyhaven just a little longer. Maybe he could indulge in your presence more.

"I understand that," Caleb murmured, barely  above a whisper, "More than you know."

There was a moment of silence, weighted with confession.

He could almost see you smile, "Being out here for so long makes me hungry for actual food, though."

Caleb almost laughed, "I understand that, too."

"I don't know what I'm craving, though. In the academy, my diet consisted of cup noodles and whatever sweets I could find!" You giggled and it echoed in his mind.

"I could take you to some of my favourite spots?" Caleb inquired carefully. Cautious. He wasn't about to cross a line you didn't want him to. He could stop himself from becoming to wrapped up in you, or so he hoped.

"It's a date!" You beamed.

And maybe you simply said it because it was an expression, but that didn't matter, not to Caleb. Because he was going to use every possible advantage he had to make sure he was the only one your were going on dates with.

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

He was on a bench again. It was the one he always went to at Asko, it was as famialr to him as his home was. He leaned back against the cold wood, staring out into the night. He was done for the day and yet he couldn't not find it in himself to move. The thought of driving only made the ahce in his body worse. Every inch of him begged for sleep and yet his mind marched on, restless.

Twenty hours.

That's how long he had until his next shift. Twenty hours to get home, shower, eat, sleep, wake up, eat, shower, dress, clean and get to work. His mind went rampant, trying to figure out how quickly to do things, and he knew sitting on the bench wouldn't help him, yet he could not move.

He felt like ripping his hair out. Ice crawled up his neck, and he was thankful for his scarf.

"Zayne..." That voice. How many times had he heard it over the phone over the last couple of weeks? 

He looked to the side and found you standing there, only a few short feet from him, a soft, concerned look on your face. He hadn't seen you since he'd left your hospital after the boy he'd done the heart surgery on was discharged. But he'd spoken to you, for professional reasons, he told himself again and again every time his thumb hovered over your contact.

He sucked in a harsh breath and steadied himself, "...What are you doing here?"

You toyed with your lip between your teeth, "Remember that job opportunity I told you about?"

Realisation coursed through Zayne as he sat straighter, "It's at Asko."

"Mhm," You smiled, "They just told me I got it, so you'll be seeing a lot more of me!"

The ice on Zayne's neck thawed slightly, the thorns of frost receding as he stared at you. Seeing you more often, he found he didn't recoil at the thought as he so often did when it came to the closeness of others.

He swallowed, speaking softly, "Congratulations. We've gained a wonderful Doctor."

He watched as you flushed like a flower blooming and sighed deeply. You furrowed your brows, and as you leaned close, he could smell your perfume. "Are you okay?"

Zayne looked at you and found himself softening, his words spilling from his tongue before he could free them, "I'm trying to feel real again."

You nodded, deep understanding stretched across your face, "Do you need anything?"

He hummed thoughtfully, "D...Do you have any...sweets?"

Your face crumpled, "No. I ran out earlier, and I don't know where the good ones are in Linkon. I don't know where the best dessert places are either! It's the worst part of moving to a new place."

A dry chuckle left Zayne's lips before he could stop it. "Not knowing where you can sate your sweet tooth is worse than knowing nothing and no one in Linkon?"

"Yes, it is!" You huffed, puffing out your cheeks, and Zayne found he wanted to squish them. "Besides, I know you!"

A feeling crawled up Zayne's neck again, but instead of frost, it was flush. He resisted the urge to loosen his tie and run his hand through his hair; he couldn't remove his professional facade just yet. He didn't know you well enough, he didn't understand you fully, he couldn't feel your intentions in their entirety.

But how would he ever know those things if he never took a step towards the sun?

"You do know me," Zayne hesitated, licking his lips absent-mindedly, "And I could show you where I know the best desserts are?"

You grinned widely, and grasped his hand, pulling him upwards, "Well, come on, then!"

Why had he spent all that time trying to make a plan so he could have as much time as possible, again? He certainly wasn't going to use it.

[reixtsu]

You didn't plan to show up at their dorm.

You definitely didn't plan to break down on their couch, hands shaking as your voice cracked under the pressure of your feelings as you uttered the words: "They cheated on me... and then dumped me like it was nothing."

Jinu

He was already crying, silently, all for you.

"It's not your fault," he whispered. "Sometimes people love wrong, but that doesn't mean that you were wrong to love, or that you are unworthy to be loved."

He pulled you gently into his arms, rocking you slightly. His warmth was steady, familiar, safe.

"You don't have to be okay right now. You don;t even have to smile, just let me be here with you."

He pressed his forehead against yours, voice cracking just a little. "You always take care of everyone else, so let us take care of you tonight."

And when you cried, he didn't try to fix you. He just held you, held you like he'd been waiting to do it forever.

Romance

Romance looked wrecked, like he's just watched the love of his life die before his eyes.

"You must be joking. They cheated on you? What were they thinking?"

He kneeled next to the couch, grabbing a blanket and tucking it around your shoulders like you were a painting much too valuable to touched bare-handed.

"You have your heart away so softly," he murmured. "They didn't deserve the way you loved them."

His fingers brushed your hair behind your ear, a soft, reverent motion that eased you just a bit.

"If I ever had your heart... I'd guard it with mine."

You blinked at him, startled-but he just smiled softly and kissed the back of your hand gently.

For a moment, you forgot why your chest hurt so badly.

Abby

he couldn't hold still. He was pacing, running his hand through his hair like a storm was brewing under his skin.

"Cheated on you? Now  fucker needs to be taught a lesson."

You tried to laugh, but it came out broken.

He crouched in front of you, his usual bravo cracking just a bit at your disheveled and broken state.

"I know I joke a lot usually, but I'd never treat you like that. I don't care if we're just friends right now-someone's hurting you? It's not just your problem, it's my problem now."

He wrapped you in a hug-strong, warm, grounded-and for the first time in hours, you felt safe.

"Let me stay by your side for a bit, yeah? I'll keep the nightmares away by using my amazing abs."

Mystery

Mystery didn't speak. He just walked over, sat beside you, and offered his jacket wordlessly.

Then he passed you a hot drink. Then a tissue box. Then his hand.

When you were finally ready to speak, voice raw and small, he didn;t interrupt. he simply listened.

When he finally spoke, his voice was deep and low. "They made you feel disposable. You;re not. You never were."

You turned to look at him, and you could tell that he meant what he said. 

"If they saw what I see... they'd have worshiped you."

He didn't smile, didn;t stutter, just staid it with full sincerity.

And somehow that made you cry even harder.

Baby

he sat on the floor in front of you, tugging your hands with his own.

"So your ex is a bitch." He was serious. He wanted to say something, do something, because seeing your tears made something deep inside feel helpless. He hated that feeling so much.

He nuzzled your knees like a cat, whispering, "They're an idiot. You? You're perfect. I wouldn't leave you even if someone paid me their life."

You cracked a smile, barely. He caught it and lit up like the baby he is.

He didn't let go of your hand for the rest of the night. Not even when you fell asleep curled against his side, his cheek resting gently against your shoulder.

---

By the end of the night, you were still hurting-but you weren't alone.

Each of them, in their own way, made you feel loved, like you mattered.

Maybe you've been loving the wrong person all along. Maybe someone else had been waiting to love you right, like you deserve, this whole time.

[misty-petals]

You are everything to me, you know?

|Go Hyuntak (Gotak) x Fem!Reader

|Slow burn, Friends to lovers, jealousy, Declaration

English is not my first language.

You had known Gotak forever. Since the days he wore sneakers too big for his feet and turned red whenever the teacher asked him to read out loud. He grew up — and so did you — but something between you two never changed: he was always there. Like a silent rock. A safe harbor.

It was the kind of friendship no one dared question, even though many whispered behind your backs:

— "Are they sure they're just friends?" — they'd whisper in the hallways.

And you’d answer with an awkward smile. Because deep down… not even you were sure anymore.

Gotak never talked about it either. He just stayed by your side, holding your backpack when you were tired, waiting for you in silence after class, protecting you from anyone who crossed the line.

But things started to change.

Especially after a new student — Jinwoo — joined your class. He was kind, funny, and started chatting with you every day. Harmless... until Gotak began clenching his jaw every time he got near.

— "Gotak?" — you called out one day after class, feeling the strange tension in the air.He barely looked at you.

— "Hm?"

— "Are you okay?"

He finally looked straight at you. His gaze was intense, heavy, like it carried a bunch of words he’d never dared to say.

— "You've been spending a lot of time with that guy from your class. The idiot who keeps trying to make you laugh."

You blinked.

— "He's just a friend."

— "I don’t like him." — His voice was quieter. Almost hoarse. — "I don’t like how he looks at you."

Your heart skipped a beat.

You tried to play it cool, but the silence between you already said everything.

That day, Gotak didn’t walk you home. And you watched his back disappear around the corner, feeling like something was missing from your chest.

Two days later, he showed up in front of your house. Backpack slung over his shoulder, hair tousled by the wind.

— "Can you come down?" — he asked, straight to the point.You came down. He looked more nervous than you’d ever seen him.

— "Did something happen?"He looked away for a second. Then looked back at you, this time with force.

— "I like you."

Simple. Raw. Real.

You felt the air leave your lungs.

— "I’ve liked you for a long time. Way before this Jinwoo guy. Since... way before. But I stayed quiet because I thought you deserved someone better. Someone gentler, who knew how to say beautiful things." — He paused, jaw tense. — "But seeing another guy trying to win you over... it hurt. And I’m an idiot for waiting this long, I know. But if there’s still time..."

Gotak took a deep breath. Closed his eyes for a second, like he was gathering courage.

— "I want to be that someone. I want to see you smile and know I’m the reason. I want to hold your hand, protect you from the world, not just as a friend. As... your boyfriend."

The silence felt like it froze time for a few seconds.

You smiled. Slowly, but with your heart full.

— "You’re an idiot... but you’re my idiot. And yes, I want that."

The relief in his eyes was so pure it made you want to cry. But instead, he stepped closer and pulled you into a tight hug. The kind of hug that said everything he didn’t know how to express in words. His forehead resting against yours. Eyes closed. Heart racing.

Gotak whispered:

— "You’re everything to me, you know?"

You smiled, heart pounding in your chest. You raised a hand to his face, gently caressing his warm cheek.

— "Then stop talking and kiss me already."

He froze for a second — surprised, almost laughing nervously — then leaned in, slowly, like he was afraid to ruin the moment. But once his lips touched yours, all the nervousness vanished.

The kiss was soft at first, shy, like you were both still getting used to the idea that this was really happening. But then came the certainty, the surrender. It was like years of friendship, care, affection, and hidden feelings finally found a place to explode.

He held your face in both hands, keeping you close, like you were the most precious thing in the world. And deep down, that’s exactly what you were to him.

When you pulled apart, both of you were still smiling, breathless.

— "Is it official now?" — you asked softly.

Gotak nodded.

— "Now it’s forever."

And that night, the silence between you was sealed with a kiss — and a new story was finally beginning.

Thank you to everyone who read this far. ⁠♡

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

satosugu x reader smut ?! college au (like ur SCRUMPTIOUS nanami fic!!)

also, are there any genres (or kinks / fetishes) u are uncomfortable with? aside from the obvious weird ones...

💞

Suck and Blow

Tags: Satosugu x Reader, college au, nsfw, mdni, mmf, switch sub leaning Satoru and switch dom leaning Suguru, can’t express this enough they FUCK.

Synopsis: While playing a good old college game of suck and blow, you’ve seemingly captured the attention of both Satoru and Suguru

An: Hmm, aside from the grotesque ones (age play, race play, piss/scat kink, etc.), i don’t think i have any hard boundaries. i try to be pretty flexible with my writing. i think one thing i would probably not be motivated to write would be ass play in a heterosexual relationship. nothing wrong w it! just not my cup of tea, and i’d find it hard to write. So sorry, this was kinda rushed near the end, but I needed to get it out before monstertober. Hope you enjoy!

"Hey Satoru?" Suguru's soothing voice cooed to his long-term boyfriend. Well, basically his boyfriend. They never officially put a term on their relationship, but fucking each other raw on a nightly basis is basically being boyfriends right? If you were to ask Satoru, he'd say Suguru is his husband, and they're basically married by common law.

Satoru was lounging in a recliner in the common area of the frat house. He was pressing buttons on a small handheld gaming device as he concentrated on it. "Yeah?" He responded.

"Can I talk to you about something?" Suguru asked as he walked into common area. He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at the white-haired male.

"Oh, you're serious." Satoru mused as he looked up at the brunette. He quickly shut off the gaming device and tossed it to the side. "C'mere." He hummed as he patted his lap for Suguru to sit down.

Geto's lips curled into a smile, and he rolled his eyes at Satoru's request. "What?" Satoru asks with a small pout as he looked up at the brunette.

Suguru takes a seat on the couch, and his hands pat on his lap. "You c'mere." He mocks. Satoru's pout immediately melts, and he hops up out of the recliner.

"You don't have to tell me twice." He hums with a smile as he sits at on his boyfriend's lap, wrapping his legs around the larger one's waist. "What is it, Sugu?"

"I was wondering about something." Geto says calmly as his fingers come up and gently card through Satoru's fluffy hair. His boyfriend leans into his touch like a needy kitten.

"Go on. You're like edging me here." Satoru laughs as he flutters his eyes shut. His long white eyelashes batting closed.

"You normally like it." Suguru smugly comments, earning a pinch from Satoru. "Okay, okay... I was just wondering... Have you thought about fucking a girl?"

Satoru's eyes immediately open as he furrows his eyebrows in utter shock and confusion. He did not know that was where Geto was going with this.

"What...? Are you saying you're straight because you take an awfully large amount of dick to be str-"

"That's not what I'm saying you idiot. I was wondering if you ever just... thought about fucking a girl? It's okay if not."

The white-haired male pondered his boyfriend's question for a minute. Had Satoru thought about it? Sure. He was a man who would really fuck whatever gender as long as he thought they were attractive and if they had a good enough personality. Is that something he should tell his boyfriend though?

"Is this a trick question? Are you going to be mad if I say yes?" He reluctantly asks, still unsure of what Geto was trying to get at here.

"I'm not going to be mad, Satoru. I asked for a reason, just please answer." Suguru reassures as he continued to play with his boyfriend's hair.

"I mean... yeah, I've thought about it, but I would never do that to you."

"Have you thought about.. fucking a girl with me?"

It was straight up embarrassing how fast Satoru got hard at the thought.

"No, I haven't... but now that you mention it, I don't think I'll ever be able to get that thought out of my head."

"I think we should do it." Suguru casually mentions as he looks into his boyfriend's eyes. "I think it'd be fun."

"How do we find someone to do that with though? I don't think I want it to be just anybody, but I don't want any of our friends to see us like that either."

*** *** ***

The frat house was filled with people. Alcoholic beverages were at every turn. A group of misfits in the corner were packing a bowl. The guys had pushes all of the common room furniture to the walls, making an open space in the living room.

Satoru was sat on the floor between Suguru's legs. The brunette was sharing a cigarette with Shoko as he lazily petted Satoru's head. The white-haired male was looking through the crowd. He was on a mission tonight.

Ever since Suguru brought up sharing a girl between them, Satoru hadn't been able to shake the thought out of his mind. All of it sounded so exciting to him, being able to have the best of both worlds? He felt like a horny teenager all over again. When Geto wasn't tending to him, he was jerking off to the sheer thought of sharing a girl with him.

Suguru was much more tamed in his desires, though he still thought about it often. He had a wet dream of him and Satoru sharing a girl one night, and that was what started this entire mess. He had never woken up to a pool of pre-cum like he did that morning after the dream.

"So anyways, that's why I want to die." Shoko finishes up her story of why she has the worst roommate ever. Geto was halfway listening, but he was mostly just bumming cigarettes of Shoko. He didn't get to smoke often, since Satoru always whined about the taste, but he indulged during parties.

As he nodded and took another drag, a figure caught his eye. He looked over towards the sea of people in the kitchen, and he saw you quietly socializing with a group of people.

You were breathtaking, and you absolutely did not go to their college.

"Shoko, who's that?" Suguru asks calmly before nodding his head towards you.

"Oh, I think that's one of Ino's friends." She answers as she sits up. "I think Ino mentioned that she recently just transferred here."

"How is Ino friends with her?" Geto immediately asks as his face twists in confusion. Ino wasn't necessarily a bad guy: looks or personality wise, but he just couldn't see a girl like you hanging out with a guy like Ino.

"Beats me." Shoko shrugs uninterestingly as she leans her head back against the couch.

Suguru gently nudged his boyfriend as he was still sat between his legs. "Look towards the kitchen." He murmurs softly.

Satoru immediately glances over towards the kitchen, making his gaze seem casual. However, once his eyes lock onto you, he immediately knows why Suguru told him to look in the kitchen.

"Her." Satoru decides. "We could share her."

*** *** ***

Why would Ino invite you to a party then not show up? Now, you're stuck awkwardly talking with his other friends about shit you don't even care about.

Transferring to a new college right at the cutoff date was the worst idea you've had in all your life. For one, you were dreadfully behind in all your classes. For two, you had no idea who anyone was besides Ino. For three, all of the good dorms had been taken, so you were stuck living in the shitty one with a leak.

Honestly, coming to this party was the second worst idea. You should be in your leaky dorm catching up on the mountain of homework piled up. You only showed up to this damn party because Ino invited you, trying to be a good friend and introduce you to people.

You set down the alcoholic beverage you had been sipping on casually for the last hour, and you decide that you're going to just go home and pretend like this didn't happen.

As you reach towards the door, you notice a tall figure step in front of you. He leans his arm above the doorframe, and he looks down at you.

"Leaving so soon?" The white-haired male spoke in a pouty tone, but he had a smirk on his face.

"Oh- um, yeah... I have homework to do." You answer awkwardly as you stare up at him. His bright blue eyes were pretty but almost eerily so. It was giving uncanny.

"It can wait just a couple more hours, can't it? The party's only just begun." He coerces as his hand slowly drops from the top of the door frame down towards you. "I'm Satoru by the way. I don't recognize you."

"I just transferred here." You quietly admit as you take his hand and tell him your name.

"This late in the semester? Sounds pretty foolish to go through all the trouble."

"You're telling me." You respond as you look towards the door again. You really should go back to your dorm and catch up with homework.

"Satoru, you're crowding her." A calm voice spoke as he approached as well. He had long dark hair and a kind, trusting smile. He was also just as tall as Satoru. "I'm sorry about him. He gets a bit excited." The calmer male explained as he placed a hand on Satoru's shoulder.

"He's alright.. I was just leaving anyways..." You respond as you move toward the door. The dark haired male gently grabbed your wrist.

"Hey- I think I recognize you from somewhere." He says as he slightly leans in as if he's inspecting your face.

"No Suguru, you got it wrong. She's a transfer." Satoru says as he also leans in with Suguru, propping himself up on the dark-haired male's shoulder. They were both leaning in closely to your personal space.

"A transfer, hm? I'm sure that's not been easy. You deserve to let loose a little." The other responds, saying all the right things to convince you to stay. "Let me get you a drink, yeah? We should be good hosts, Satoru." He says as he walks off to the kitchen, leaving you and the other behind.

"Where'd you transfer from, sweets?" Satoru asks as he subtly leads you away from the door.

"Oh, just a nearby community college." You respond as you see Geto walking back towards you two with a red solo cup in his hands. Now, you've heard all the horror stories of what can happen to vulnerable college girls at frat parties. "I don't drink, sorry." You politely decline with a smile.

"Hm? I saw you drinking earlier." Suguru says as he tilts his head to the side slightly in confusion. Shit. Busted.

"Oh sorry, what I meant to say was I don't drink drinks that are made by men."

A look of sudden understanding crosses Suguru's face. He then looks down at the drink, and he takes a huge gulp of it first. "Satoru, take a drink." He hands the cup over to the other male, and he also takes a drink out of it. "I'm sorry. The thought never crossed my mind."

Satoru hands the now almost empty cup to you, and you can't help but laugh softly. These two dorks really just almost drunk the entire drink to prove to you that nothing was in it. "Oh, what the hell." You shrug as you take the last gulp of the drink. "Thanks."

"Of course, angel." Suguru smiles in your direction.

"Ooo, do you know what we should play with our new friend?" Satoru asks with a cheeky grin as he wiggles his eyebrows up at Suguru.

*** *** ***

Before you know it, a group of people are sat in a circle around in the common area, and there's a playing card in the center. Suck or blow is a game where the players pass around a playing card using only their lips via sucking or blowing. If the card is dropped between two people, they must kiss. To heighten the fun, after the card is dropped, it is cut in half, making it harder to keep the card up on the players' lips.

"Okay, but this isn't fair. Satoru and Suguru shouldn't be allowed to sit next to each other because they're just gonna kiss every chance they get." Someone in the circle mentions as they roll their eyes.

It just now occurs to you that the two men who convinced you to stay are lovers.

"You're so right. C'mere, sweets, so we don't ruin the game for everyone else." Satoru grins as he scoots over to the side, making room for you between him and Geto. Your eyes widen slightly from his proposition as you had a weird feeling about this game.

You slowly crawl between Satoru and Suguru. They're both big men sat with their legs crossed, so their legs are just casually rubbing against yours. No matter how much you try to scrunch up you're own body, they seems to press right against you.

Your eyes follow the playing card around the circle as people are giggling and taunting each other. Faces are red, there's awkward moments of tension, and a pair of people actually end up accidentally dropping the card.

It actually seems like a pretty lighthearted game. The card is cut in half, and the game resumes. Your heart starts to thump in your chest a bit harder as the card is making it's way closer and closer to you. With the way the rotation is going, you'll have to receive the card from Satoru and pass it off to Suguru.

Seems easy enough.

Satoru leans in to some guy that's sat beside him, and they both nearly laugh. Luckily, Satoru is able to obtain the card from the guy, lightly sucking in so the card stays flush against his lips.

He turns towards you, and his eyes lock with yours. For a moment, you swear you're able to see a devilish look in his eyes before he tilts his head up and blows the card away from his lips. "Oops. I dropped it." He feigns innocence with a smirk. "What can you do?"

You feel yourself lean back slightly. Surely, this wasn't fair. It's not that you didn't want to kiss Satoru. Let's just be honest, who doesn't? But you certainly didn't want to kiss him in front of his boyfriend.

"What are you runnin' from, angel? Satoru doesn't bite too hard." Suguru encourages you as he gently nudges you forward. Your face immediately flushes, and you barely have any time to respond before Satoru cups your cheeks and pulls you into the steamiest kiss you've ever received.

This was not like the kiss those other two people shared. This was deep, intimate, and totally inappropriate. Satoru scooted off of his bottom and onto his knees as he leaned more into you, bullying his way into your mouth by biting your lower lip.

A small muffled whimper escapes your mouth as you’re almost unable to breathe. Your hands push against his shoulders, and he groans as he’s forced to separate from you.

His face is slightly flushed, and his breath is short pants. His bright blue eyes were half-lidded as he leaned back to his spot with a smirk.

Your face is also completely flushed with embarrassment. Reluctantly looking around the room, the people are giggling and whispering about you. Some of them look towards Geto waiting for his reaction. Your heart starts to thump harshly in your chest.

You place your hands behind you on the floor to get up. This is too much. What kind of kiss was that anyways? Why would he embarrass you in front of everyone?

Before you’re able to get up from your spot, Suguru wraps his hand around your wrist, and he holds you back towards him.

���Now, now, angel.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach. Thinking Suguru is about to rip you a new one for kissing his boyfriend like that, you immediately start to apologize. “What you apologizing for, hm?” He asks as he leans in dangerously close to you. “I was just going to say that if Satoru gets a taste, then so do I.”

What kind of sick prank was this?

His dark eyes flicker down to your lips, and his other hand brushes your hair away from your face before he leans in and presses a softer - more sensual kiss. His lips are smooth and delicate; the complete opposite from Satoru’s.

You feel like you’re about to explode from embarrassment, so you pull away with a whiny huff. The brunette merely chuckles are your reaction. “I could still taste him on you.” He murmurs into your ear, making your heart skip a beat.

Your palms find your face as you’re literally trying to hide from the situation. Not that you can see, but the two men were literally just grinning at you, pleased with the mess they caused.

“Alright. That was fun.” Satoru announced, denoting the end of the game.

“Maybe for you.” A guy retorted with a halfway-annoyed laugh. You could hear people shuffling around, leaving the circle they were all sat in.

Slowly, your hands leave your face, and you see most people have went back to hanging out in their own social groups; however, Satoru and Suguru stuck by your side.

“Well, it seems she’ll share a kiss with both of us. I wonder what else she might do with both of us.” Suguru mused as he propped his head up with his hand. His elbow sat on his knee as he gazed at both you and Satoru with an enamored expression.

“I- We were playing a game!” You quickly go to defend your case, but Satoru is right there to also taunt you.

“Oh, so you’d only kiss one of us if we weren’t playing a game?” Satoru asks as he also leans into you, fluttering his long white eyelashes. “Sweets, if you wanted it to be just you and I, I could tell Suguru here to give us some space.”

“What-? No, that’s not what I…”

“So, you were open to kissing both of us.” Suguru cuts you off, not letting you refute or argue.

Your face is bright red as you feel your head spinning. Both of the men were matching each other’s energy, applying pressure to you. Their dominant personalities were making it hard for you to even get a word out.

“Please- stop.” You whisper quietly as you look down at your lap, practically folding in on yourself like a hermit crab who senses danger.

Suguru shoots Satoru a quick glance, and they seem to have a silent conversation between the two of them. The brunette is the first to speak up, gently placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey- it’s okay. We were just teasing.” He reassures you softly as he bends his head down to try to look in your eyes to show that he’s sincere.

Satoru gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “We’re sorry, sweets. We didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”

“You’re not mad at me..?” You quietly ask the two of them as they’re both doting on you with physical affection to soothe your anxiety.

“Why would we be mad, angel?” Suguru asks softly. His hand is gently rubbing on your shoulder, lightly massaging you.

“Yeah, we kissed you. Why would we be mad?” Satoru pitches in as he carefully cards his fingers through your hair.

Your heart continues to flutter a bit. Having both men tend to you emotionally and physically was rather appealing.

“I kissed you two back, and you two are…” Your voice trails off as you don’t know what type of label to place on their relationship.

“Ohhh, she’s worried about us being jealous, Sugu.” Satoru grins as his hand pats the top of your head.

“Poor thing. Allow me to let you in on a little secret.” Suguru dips his head closer to your ear, and he drops his voice to a low whisper. “Neither of us care as long as we both get to have you.”

You must’ve misheard him. Is he really just openly offering a threesome between you, him, and Satoru?

“I don’t understand…” You quietly murmur, not daring to make eye contact with either of them right now.

“Yes, you do.” Satoru interjects as he sits up a little. His hand grabs your chin and forces you to look up at him. Bright blue eyes stare into your very essence. “I think we’ve made our intentions pretty clear here, sweets. We both want you. So, you can either follow us up to the bedroom, or we can all pretend this didn’t happen, and you can go back to your dorm and play with yourself to the thought of us.”

You’re sure that if these boys keep it up, you’ll have a heart attack at some point. Your breath hitches in your throat as you try to comprehend how Satoru could be so bold. You’re truly lucky that Suguru is there to balance him out.

“You don’t have to decide right now, angel. Satoru is a bit too impatient for his own good.” Suguru speaks lowly as his hand gently caresses your back. “You can make your mind up whenever you’d like. We just want to be clear in our intentions.”

“That you want to sleep with me?” You ask as your eyes dart over to Geto.

“You make it sound so bad, love.” Suguru responds as his eyes look over your face. “It’s not just sleeping with you. It’s making you feel good. It’s sharing you between us and watching you deteriorate into that little shy mess that you let us get a glimpse of earlier.”

Satoru pinches your cheek as he still has your face cupped. “It’s about seeing how much you can take and which one of us will fold first and fill you up.”

You press your thighs together as you feel your heartbeat in your cunt. How did they make sex sound so appealing? Not that you didn’t like sex, but you never had it described to you like that.

“You like what he’s saying, angel?” Suguru muses as he leans in close to your ear. His nose brushes against your hair gently, and his warm breath ghosts your skin. “It’s okay. You want us both to fill you up. We can give you that.” His voice is so soothing as if he’s speaking a lullaby to you. His large hands trails to your inner thigh. “You just gotta give us the word, love. We’ll give you a night you’ll never forget.”

*** *** ***

So, that’s how you ended up in Satoru’s massive bedroom upstairs while the party continued on upstairs.

Suguru’s lips were on yours, practically making love to your mouth as he ran his hand through your hair. The back of your knees hit Satoru’s king sized bed as the brunette was gently coaxing you there by taking small steps forward.

His boyfriend was watching the two of you with big eyes. His hand was absentmindedly palming himself through his jeans as he admired the way you submitted to Suguru so willingly.

“Sugu…” Satoru nearly whines. If it was just the two of them in the room alone, he would be already pouting, but he has a dominant role to uphold.

The brunette gently parts from the kiss leaving you a panting mess to look over at his cute boyfriend, eagerly palming himself like an animal who couldn’t help themselves. “Such an only child.” He remarks with a smirk. “Never learned how to share properly.”

“I want to kiss her too.” Satoru huffs as he approaches the two of you. Your eyes are glued on Satoru almost out of fear. Despite how whiny he could get, he was definitely the more rougher direct one.

“Be my guest, Toru.” Suguru hums as he gently nudges you onto the bed to where your bottom is on the edge. “I wanna kiss somewhere else anyways.” His fingers hook into the waistband of your pants, and he tugs them off of you.

Satoru moves his upper body on top of yours while staying out of Suguru’s way. He’s slightly jealous that Geto is getting to taste you first, but he’s sure that he’ll get to feel you wrapped around him first. His hands pin yours above your head, and you squirm a bit, testing his grip.

“Think you can get away, sweets? Go ahead and try.” Satoru smirks as he doesn’t even have to try to hold you down. You’re no match for him, especially considering he’s a pro at contact sports.

Your squirming intensifies as Suguru’s fingers gently brush against your damp panties. “She already made a mess for us.” He muses to Satoru.

“What a slut.” The white-haired male grins before he finally gets what he came here for: a kiss. His lips devour yours in another steamy kiss as Geto starts rubbing small light circles against your clit with his thumb.

You’re completely at the mercy. Your body squirms around from the stimulation, but neither of the boys relent. Before you all went upstairs, Suguru made it clear that you had a safe word: crepe. If you uttered that word, both of them would completely stop whatever they were doing. Until then, you were fair game no matter how much you whimpered or squirmed.

The thought of it makes you try to press your thighs together as your cunt clenches around nothing, but Suguru forces your thighs apart. “Don’t hide your pretty cunt from me, angel. I don’t want to have to tie you down.”

Chills go up your spine from the thought, and you reluctantly stop trying to close your legs.

Satoru kisses bruisingly hard, gulping down each of your breaths and using your whimpers as a way to slip his tongue past your lips. His hand is still holding down both of your hands while his other starts to grope your breast.

Suguru presses chaste kisses to your core through your panties while still rubbing you. He hums with contentment as he watches your hips rise from the bed searching for more. He decides to indulge you for now, slowly sliding your panties down your legs.

“So pretty.” He murmurs as he gazes at your soaking wet cunt. His eyelids flutter shut before he leans in and ever so gently laps at your cunt, causing you to squeal into Satoru’s mouth.

The white-haired male finally relents in his kisses to gaze down at his boyfriend while he was leisurely indulging in your cunt like it was a gourmet meal. He bites back a moan as his dick is painfully hard, straining against his jeans. It’s nearly enough to make his head spin. He needs release — like now.

He unbuttons his pants before shrugging him off of him quickly. His cock has already leaked a small wet spot into his boxer briefs.

You’re too consumed with Geto’s tongue that you don’t even notice Satoru’s cock until he straddles your shoulders. Your eyes widen while looking at his size. His cock quite literally casts a shadow over your face with its massive size. His tip is an angry red color from neglect, and a bead of pre-cum sits upon the small slit.

“Oh sweets, you flatter me.” Satoru grins as he takes note of your facial expressions. The palm of his hand then gently pushes your forehead back, and he drags his length across your lips, smearing his pre-cum against your pretty mouth.

Satoru enjoys just gently rubbing his cock across your face as you give him pitiful glances and small whimpers. You try to take him into your mouth, but he won’t let you. He’s enjoying toying with you too much.

Meanwhile, Suguru is completely lost between your thighs. His jaw is almost sore from making out with your sloppy cunt, and that’s saying a lot considering he’s use to sucking dick. No matter, he continues alternating lapping at you and tongue-fucking your tight entrance. Each time his tongue thrusts inwards, he can’t help but think about how good you’re going to feel wrapped around his dick later.

Your hips try to shimmy away from him, and he takes it as a sign that you’re close. His hands grip onto your hips, preventing your escape, and his mouth then focuses strictly on your clit as he gently suckles on the small bundle of nerves.

Your mouth falls open as you gasp, and Satoru takes his chance to fill your mouth while you’re off guard. His cock immediately stuffs your mouth, muffling all of your sweet noises. Your eyes squint closed as you struggle not to immediately gag around him.

“Oh, come on. I know you can do better than that, sweets.” He taunts as he looks down at your poor struggling face. “You’re not even taking half of me.”

Your spit accumulates on his cock as he sits still for a moment, giving you just a mere second to prepare yourself. Then, he starts to rock his hips back and forth, fucking your pretty mouth while he holds you still.

“Look at me.” He demands with a small grunt.

Your eyes flutter open obediently to look up at him while he uses your throat to his heart’s content. Tears brim in your eyes, threatening to spill. Cute.

For a moment, your entire body tenses up as you gush juices against Geto’s face and chin. Your eyes slip shut as it’s almost too much to handle. The brunette continues to drink you down as if you didn’t just cum.

Satoru’s hips continue to forcefully push himself deeper into your mouth. He hates that Suguru is getting all the attention!! He gets to kiss you first He gets to taste you first. Now, he’s getting to make you cum first!

Taking his frustrations out on your poor throat, Satoru doesn’t even realize that his orgasm is rapidly approaching him until it’s almost too late. “F-fuck.” He grunts as he presses your head down harder. His tip grazes the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him. The tears slip past your cheeks.

“Yeah, gag around me, slut. That’s what you get for letting him make you cum first.” He moans as his hips stutter. He then shoves himself as deep as your throat will around, and his cock pulses between your lips as he empties himself deep in your throat.

Your cry muffles around his length as he stays seated in the back of your throat until he’s a sensitive mess. Your hand quickly comes up and hits the side of his thigh with a small whine.

With a small chuckle, he slowly gets up off of your shoulders, and Suguru had finally ceased eating you out. Your body is so tired. Taking a moment to rest in Satoru’s bed with your eyes closed, you hear clothes shuffling around.

You assumed they were maybe getting back dressed, but no, you were sorely mistaken.

“C’mere, angel. Let me hold you.” Suguru whispers softly as he crawls behind you onto the bed. Your eyes flutter open to see him completely naked, patting his lap for you.

He is (thankfully) not a big as Satoru is, but his cock is definitely fatter. You swallow harshly as your eyes wander his body.

“Listen to him, sweets.” Satoru snaps your mind back to reality as his hand gently swats at your thigh.

You slowly crawl up onto Suguru’s lap, and he turns you facing away from him. Your back lies flush against his chest. “I’ll be gentle with you. Don’t worry,” He hums softly as he pulls your shirt and bra off of you, finally discarding those pesky items.

His hand carefully adjusts his cock right between your thighs, fitting snuggly between your warm wet folds. “Mmm, feel good, angel?” He asks as his body lightly shudders from the feeling.

You weakly nod your head, and Geto starts to slowly rock his hips back and forth, coating his inches in your slick.

Satoru climbed next to you two, and he cuddles into your side before lazily catching one of your nipples into his mouth. His eyes flutter shut as he gently suckles on the sensitive bud. His hand is gently playing and rubbing on your other.

“Mnnph~ fuck..” You whimper as you lean your head back against Suguru’s shoulder. His hips continue to rock behind you, spreading your slick all over your thighs.

“Wanna see something.. ah~.. fun, angel?” Suguru asks quietly as he gently takes your hand. He slowly guides you to grabbing onto Satoru’s hair, which elicits a small whine out of him.

His blue eyes flutter open as he looks up at you pitifully while swirling his tongue around the small bundle of nerves. It seems as though he has a weak spot - his hair being pulled.

You can barely concentrate from the movement of Suguru’s hips when he makes you pull Satoru’s hair again only harder this time. The white-haired male moans around your nipple, adding vibrations to the mix of stimulation.

“Look at me, pretty boy.” Geto purrs at his boyfriend. Satoru’s eyes look up towards both yours and Geto’s faces. His eyebrows are pinched together, and he doesn’t dare stop suckling on the soft bud.

Suguru reaches down with his other hand, and he adjusts his cock right against your warm entrance. His tip bumps against the ring of muscle, causing you to whine from the sensation.

“Gonna prep her for you, okay?” Suguru mumbles to his boyfriend. The white-haired male immediately pulls away from your breast with a soft ‘pop’ noise.

“Wait no, I wann-“ Satoru’s words are futile as Suguru pushes into you with a loud groan. His head falls back against the pillow behind him. Your hands grab at the sheets with a whine as you squeeze your eyes shut. It feels like he’s trying to split you into two with his fat cock.

“Mmnn.. so, so tight.” He grunts, obviously provoking Satoru more. “Feels so good.” He adds while his hips shallowly move, pushing his tip in and out. The tight wet muscle envelopes him each time with a squelching noise.

Satoru’s eyes are as big as saucers as he watches Suguru barely pump into you. The sight of your cunt struggling to fit him and dripping juices all along his length makes him feel feral.

A huff escapes his lips as he shifts his face between your legs. “I wanted to stretch her.” He furrows his eyebrows in slight jealousy.

“Too bad. You’re just going to have to… ngh~.. watch me do it.” Suguru retorts as he pushed a couple inches deeper, allowing your gummy walls to squeeze around him.

“Oh f-fuck..! s’too much-“ You cry as your hips start to tremble. The pressure from his cock pushing deeper causes you to arch your back away from the brunette.

“Angel, I’m barely even in yet. You can do better than that.” Geto tsks disapprovingly. His hands wrap around your hips to hold them still. “Help her out, Satoru.”

The white-haired male looked up at your scrunched face as white hot pleasure and pain course through you, and he actually takes a little bit of pity on you… or maybe he just really wants a taste. Either way, he drags his tongue up Suguru’s length, licking your juices off his boyfriend. He continues to lick upward until his tongue presses against your clit.

You choke out a moan as you’re struggling to keep control over your body. It’s all so much. Your poor cunt squeezes around Suguru as Satoru continues to lap at you. As soon as you begin to adjust, Suguru pushes all the way into you, down to the hilt.

“Fuuuuck~ so good.” He groans as you clench around him so deliciously. Your juices mixing with Satoru’s saliva make it absolutely messy. The wet smacking noises fill the room as Suguru wastes no more time fucking himself into you.

Satoru’s tongue continually switches from focusing on your clit and licking up your juices from the base of Geto’s cock. He hums in pleasure as he pitifully grinds his painfully hard length into the mattress, desperate for any sort of friction.

“Sh-shit-! Satoruu~” You drawl as your hand finds his hair, but he quickly pins your wrist down, not letting you force him to submit again.

“She’s weepin’ for me, Suguru.” Satoru taunts with a hint of pride.

The brunette is lost in his own deep thrusts. He can feel his balls tightening, signaling how close he was. “Yeah? Get in here then. Make her feel good.” Suguru instructs as he pulls himself out of your wet heat, mostly to prevent himself from finishing too quickly.

You immediately whine in protest from the empty feeling, causing both of the men to chuckle at you. “Such a slut. Just needing something to fill you up, hm? You don’t care which one of us it is.” Satoru is back to his degradation as he sits up on his knees, scooting himself between both yours and Geto’s legs.

Suguru carefully tucks his cock back behind you, in between your soft pillowy cheeks. Satoru takes his opportunity and pressed himself against your entrance.

“Fuuck sweets, she’s cryin’ for me.” He groans as he bullies himself inside of you, immediately pushing all the way to the hilt, causing for you to let out a silent scream. His tip practically kisses your cervix, filling you fuller than you ever have been before. “Gotta give her what she wants.”

His thrusts were unlike Geto’s. He was rough, not giving you any time to adjust to his length before he starts pounding your pretty pussy. Your body jerks and squirms, but both of the men hold you down, making sure you can’t get away.

With each brutal thrust, your backside inadvertently grinds against Suguru’s already sensitive length. “Fuu- hnnngh~ my god.” The brunette whines behind you as his fingers dig into your hips.

You’re already a complete blabbering mess, getting completely fucked stupid in the head by the white-haired male. “Hah~… fuuuck, pleaasee.” You whimper, not even know what you’re begging for.

Satoru has your wrists pinned against Suguru’s shoulders while he slams into you. Sweat gathers on his forehead as he’s completely enamored by both yours and Geto’s spent faces. His mind plays tricks on him, convincing him that he’s miraculously fucking both of you right now.

“Whatcha beggin’ for, sweets?” He huffs as his hips push into yours, forcing your entire body up and down against his boyfriend. “Need both of us?”

Your eyes immediately widen, and you’re shaking your head quickly. “Ah, ah, I don’t hear the safe word. Suguru, I think she wants it.”

Geto pants and moans as he slowly pulls his hips back, allowing for his cock to slip between your legs. He’s painfully hard and sensitive too. “Think you can take b-both of us, angel?” He asks as he gently rubs his tip against your entrance that is already being filled by Satoru.

“N-no~! I-… I can’t.” You practically pleading as your legs are trembling from Satoru’s harsh abuse of your cunt.

“Shh, nonsense.” Suguru soothes as he brings his hand up to his mouth. He spits onto his hand and drags it along his length, lubricating himself so he can glide in. “You wanna be a good girl, don’t you?”

“Please. She’s not good for anything besides taking us.” Satoru interjects as he slowly pulls himself back until just his tip is inside, allowing Suguru the room to squeeze in.

“Poor angel, can’t even resist it, can you?” Geto mocks as he guides himself to your entrance. He slowly works his was inside. His cock was completely flush against Satoru’s, and your walls completely tighten around the both of them.

Tears fill your eyes as the pressure from both of them is almost too much. Your entire body tenses up, trying to cope with the feeling of being so full.

“Shhh, you gotta relax, darling.” Suguru murmurs into your ear. His hand reaches around and gently rubs small circles against your clit, coaxing your body to open up for them. “We’re gonna take good care of you. You need to trust us though.”

Satoru sits patiently, biting his inner cheek to prevent himself from moving. The tight feeling of your sopping cunt as well as Suguru’s cock smushed against his was nearly enough to throw him overboard. He gathers your hair carefully, and he gently moves it out of the way so he can kiss on your neck.

Suguru follows suit: kissing and biting gently on your opposite shoulder. Both of the men worked together to ease your body while Suguru slowly sunk in deeper and deeper, stretching you to your fullest. 

“Good girl..” The brunette quietly purrs in your ear. “Takin’ us both so well. Think you can take a little more?”

“Don’t call her that. This slut can barely fit us both.” Satoru grins as he wastes no more time. His hips start to roll back and forth, and his hands grabbed at the bottom of your thighs, lifting your legs up so they both could have better access.

Both of the men take turns pushing their cocks deep inside you, not giving you a single moment to rest or adjust. Your head was spinning, unable to form a coherent thought as your poor cunt was being taken by two at once.

Suguru’s clasp on your hips tightens as he rhythmically buries himself into you repeatedly. The feeling of your warm gummy walls combined with Satoru’s cock rubbing against his, creating a delicious friction was too much to handle.

“F-fuck.. I’m not gonna last too much longer.” He pants as he continues torturously rutting upwards into your sloppy wet entrance. “N-need to feel this.. mmmph.. this pussy up.”

Satoru growls lowly as he slows his pacing but makes each thrust count. Watching his boyfriend unravel underneath you was something he didn’t know he needed. He can feel himself getting close too.

But it was you who finished first. You couldn’t even warn them before your orgasm suddenly washed over you. Fluids gushed along both of them as your cunt spasmed and clenched around them.

“Did you just-“ Satoru looks down at where you two are connected to confirm it with his own eyes. “D-dirty girl, you just squirted on us.” He muses as his thrusts grow sloppier.

Suguru’s barely pumping into you before he tilts his head back. His adam’s apple bobs as he paints your insides white with a loud, needy groan.

Satoru’s legs are trembling as he keeps fucking himself into you. It’s so fucking wet from Suguru’s cum as well as your juices. The combined throbbing and clenching bring on dual sensations that have him spilling inside you as well.

“G-god fuck!” He tightens his grip on your wrists as he works his way through his orgasm.

The three of you stay in bed connected together while panting softly. The frat house is eerily quiet. Everyone must’ve went home.

“Are you alright, angel?” Suguru asks as his feather light touch grazes your tummy softly. “We didn’t hurt you, did we?”

“N-no… I’m okay.” You mutter weakly. “I don’t think I can walk back to my dorm though…”

“Good. You’re not leaving anyways.” Satoru declares with a playful smile before he snuggles into you and Suguru.

“He’s a bit clingy, but I agree. Stay here for tonight.” Suguru says, also wrapping his strong arms around you.

While the three of you slept peacefully in each other’s arms, your phone was blowing up with texts and calls from Ino who was worried sick when he showed up to the party, and you weren’t there. Oh well, you’ll just have to tell him in the morning.

[gumisgirlmist]

𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝑀𝑒𝑔𝓊𝓂𝒾 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈…

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 & 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗳 𝗠𝗲𝗴𝘂𝗺𝗶 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻!

Note :

Reader likes matcha.

'Gumi' is a nickname reader gives to Megumi.

Everyone would say your boyfriend has no real feelings of any sort but you would beg to differ.. ₊˚ ⊹ᰔ ⋆ ࿔ ₊ "Fushiguro since when did you like having sweets? Thought you hated them.." Yuji exclaimed. Megumi huffed but as soon as he could hear the rustling of the wrapping paper, he quickly turned around.

"They're not for you." He grumbled, walking over to snatch the matcha chocolate bar out of his hand before he could have any. He then put it into his pantry, into the small box where all the other similar sweets were.

"Then who is it for!?" Yuji asked curiously. Megumi turned his back to him, walking back to the counter to continue making his tea. "Fushiguroooo i'm talking to you!" Yuji said.

"It's for Y/N. Now leave it alone." Megumi grumbled. Yuji bursted out laughing.

"No wonder you were sooooo defensive over some food" Teased Yuji, who instantly earned a hard punch from Megumi.

₊˚ ⊹ᰔ ⋆ ࿔ ₊

“Goodnight gumi” You say sweetly, looking up at him with a bright smile. Of course you were happy to have a sleepover with him again, you always were and you always felt SO safe being in his presence.

“Goodnight, idiot” He mumbled, pulling the soft blankets a little higher.

You knew you were special because he would never let anyone in his bed, let alone sleep in it. Soon, you fell asleep by his side, facing his shoulder while he turns off the night lights. When he made sure you were asleep, he softly sighed while pulling the blankets a bit higher to make sure you were warm. He would also look at you in the darkness where the moonlight would highlight your face, while he cupped it with his large fingers and kiss your forehead.

“Love you..” He mutters, immediately feeling embarrassed as he would quickly turn to his side, facing his back to you, all while you were fast asleep.

₊˚ ⊹ᰔ ⋆ ࿔ ₊

It was a sunny afternoon, you and Megumi were taking a walk in the park while walking his shikigami dogs. It was peaceful, neither one of you were talking but just enjoying eachothers presence. Until he spokeup.

"I was thinking. Maybe we could have dinner tonight." He says lowly.

"I thought you said you were eating with Yuji and Kugisaki?"

"I don't want to."

You smile.

"Reaaaallyyyy?" You say, giggling.

"Yes, really."

"OHH how much I love my boyfriend" You tease which makes him frown.

"You're embarrassing me." He whispers, gently interlocking pinkies with you which made you give him a smug smile.

₊˚ ⊹ᰔ ⋆ ࿔ ₊

"Hungry?” He asks quietly while walking beside you. The both of you were going out for dinner.

“Yes! I’m really excited” You say excitedly. He nodded, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“Okay, we should be there soon..” He says, looking down to see you were almost to the point where you were jogging. He forgot. You were much smaller than him and he always took such large steps. He quickly slowed his pace down, then held your hand. You look up in curiosity.

“Hm?” You ask. He looks away, pretending not to notice.

…

At night, you were both cuddling in bed and you look at him.

“Gumi?” You ask

“Yea?”

“Why did you suddenly hold my hand earlier. You didn’t give me an explanation.”

Megumi paused for a good 2 minutes until he spoke up.

“I didn’t want to loose you.”

₊˚ ⊹ᰔ ⋆ ࿔ ₊

If you ever went to class without food, he would always give you his lunch no questions needed. If he didn’t have food, he would get takeaway or take you to a restaurant no matter what because he loved tending to you and always needed to know you were well fed or else it would tick him off.

“Full?” He asks, deciding wether or not he should give you some more food from his plate.

“Mhm!” You say with a satisfied smile. He frowned and quickly slipped a few pieces of sushi on your plate.

“You still have some left..” He mumbled but you didn’t complain.

₊˚ ⊹ᰔ ⋆ ࿔ ₊

Should i make a pt 2?

[rosierin]

uno, dos, kiss | atsumu miya

synopsis; they're home alone, it's raining, he’s bored, and somehow (y/n) is playing uno with a rose on her bed and a kiss on the line.

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

The candle on her desk flickered gently, casting shadows along the spines of her books. Lo-fi hummed in the background, slow and rhythmic, just enough to fill the quiet. Her window was cracked open, letting in the faint scent of rain and the occasional roll of thunder. The sheer curtains danced with the breeze—light and ghostlike—fluttering around the warm, golden light of her room.

She sat at her desk, legs tucked under her, pen in hand. Writing always helped clear her head. Sometimes it was dramatic. Sometimes it was mundane. Tonight, it was somewhere in between.

She was mid-sentence when the first knock came.

Then a second.

Then a third.

Then silence.

And finally, a fourth—softer. Suspiciously... needy.

(Y/n) glanced at her door, brows lifting.

“Atsumu,” she called, not even turning around. “You know you’re allowed to walk in, right?”

The door creaked open—just an inch.

“I didn’t wanna intrude if ya were journalin’ about me again.”

Of course.

She finally looked up.

There he was: pyjama pants, hoodie, hair messy, like he’d been aimlessly padding around the hallway for the last twenty minutes. Which—he had. She knew because she'd heard his dramatic sighs echoing down the hallway around ten minutes ago.

“Not everything’s about you,” she said.

“But some of it is.”

She stared.

Atsumu wiggled his fingers like he was conjuring something.

“Anywayyy. The house is suspiciously quiet. No twin yelling. No Suna wheezin' at stupid TikToks. Just you. And me. And the thunder outside.”

She raised a brow. “Okay?”

“So.” He took a step in. “We could do somethin’ about that.”

“…Like what?”

“Dunno. Play a game. Watch somethin’. Flirt. Kiss a little.”

He said it like he was listing ingredients. Casual. Breezy. Ridiculous.

She squinted. “You wanna play Uno and make out?”

“I mean now that you’ve said it like that—” His face lit up. “Yeah. Kinda sounds like the dream.”

She launched a pillow at him. He caught it with both hands like it was a wedding bouquet, grinning like an idiot.

“Okay, loser. How about you start with Uno, and we go from there.”

“Deal. But fair warnin’—if I win, I’m cashin’ in a kiss.”

“That’s not how Uno works.”

“It is in my rules.”

She shook her head, fighting the urge to smile.

He disappeared for all of two minutes and came back wielding a deck of Uno cards, a bowl of gummy bears, and a single rose he’d very obviously stolen from the dining table vase.

“To set the mood,” he announced, placing the flower between them with a romantic flourish as if they were sharing a candlelit dinner.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes so hard she nearly saw the back of her skull.

But when he flopped down on the edge of her bed across from her, cross-legged and beaming, shuffling cards with the kind of intense focus he usually reserved for volleyball—or, apparently, potential kissing—her chest did this stupid thing.

A flutter.

Warm. Unexpected. Annoying.

God, he was infuriating. Always so extra. So smug. So Atsumu.

But also…

Also, part of her kind of wanted to let him win.

“You ready to lose?” She asked, cracking her knuckles like a seasoned Uno champion.

Atsumu leaned back, arms crossed behind his head like he was about to lounge his way to victory. “Sweetheart, I’ve never lost a game where the prize is yer affection.”

“You’ve never won a game where that was the prize.”

“Until day."

She dealt the cards with professional precision. He immediately pouted at his hand.

“Why do I got four Wilds? Is this karma for flirtin’?”

“Could be,” she said lightly. “Or maybe the universe is just tired of your nonsense.”

“Unlikely. The universe lives for my nonsense.”

The first few rounds go smoothly—well, as smoothly as Uno can go with a menace like Atsumu.

He slapped down a Draw Four with the flair of a magician mid-final act.

“Boom. Take that.”

She huffed a laugh. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Not nearly enough, if I’m honest.”

She retaliated with a Reverse, followed by a Skip.

Atsumu gasped, clutching the rose to his chest like she’d betrayed him. “Et tu, (y/n)?”

She snorted and waved a hand at his obscure reference. “Play your cards, drama queen.”

Several minutes (and three aggressive +2s) later, they were both down to their last card. The tension was palpable. Outside, the rain picked up, the thunder grumbling as if Mother Nature herself was narrating their showdown.

“Uno,” she said coolly, dropping a red 7.

Atsumu stared at his hand, then at (y/n).

“Hey. Before I destroy you, can I ask somethin’?”

She narrowed her eyes. “If this is another ‘cash in a kiss’ thing, I swear—”

“Nah, nah—well. Kind of. Hear me out.”

She quirked a brow, already amused despite herself. “Go on?”

He leaned forward again, folding his arms over his knees where he sat at the edge of her bed, chin resting on his wrist as he gazed up at her with the dumbest, softest little smile.

"Since ya won't let plant one on ya—"

“Nope.” She smiled, just as sweetly.

He held up a hand. “Lemme finish.”

And for some reason, she did. She always did with him.

There was something about Atsumu that made her press pause. Even when he was being ridiculous. Especially when he was being ridiculous. He could barge in, derail her night, demand attention like it was his right—and somehow, it never annoyed her the way it should. Simply because, talking to him felt... well, easy.

She’d never admit it out loud, but she liked it when he showed up like this—mischievous and maybe a little bored. He never really needed a reason to be around her, and that meant more than she could say.

(Y/n) snorted as Atsumu's voice took on a mock-serious tone.

“How about on the cheek? That ain’t so bad, right?”

She barked out a laugh. “Is this your version of checking the terms and conditions?”

“I’m a respectful man,” he said, nodding solemnly. “Gentle. Law-abiding. Soft lips. Big heart. Unmatched Uno card skills."

She stared. He held the gaze—completely unserious, completely committed.

“Fine,” she said eventually, sighing through a smile. “If you win.”

The man was practically glowing. “Ohhhhhh bet.”

He slammed down his final card—a yellow 3.

Neither the right colour nor the right number.

(Y/n) blinked. “Wait. That’s not—”

“Aw, would ya look at that—I win!” He threw both arms in the air like he’d just scored match point at Nationals.

“Wait, what? That’s not how this works—!”

“Terms and conditions, you said it yerself!" he sang, already scooting closer with a grin so wide it was a miracle his cheeks weren’t cramping.

She opened her mouth to argue. Paused.

Honestly?

She wasn’t even mad. Confused, yes. Mildly betrayed, also yes. But mostly… she was just trying not to laugh.

Because look at him—grinning like an idiot, holding that stolen rose like he was the lead in some dramatic romcom. And that sparkle in his eyes? Stupid. Hopeful. Completely disarming.

She sighed. “Just the cheek,” she warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of anywhere else.” (Liar.)

And then—softer than expected—Atsumu shifted closer.

One of his hands found her knee, fingertips resting there, feather-light but somehow enough to set her skin on fire. The other gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, slow and careful like she might disappear if he moved too fast.

Her breath hitched.

Then he leaned in—close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath, close enough that if either of them moved even an inch in the wrong direction, this wouldn’t be so innocent anymore.

And finally, with a softness that made her chest tighten, he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Warm. Lingering. Dangerous in how gentle it was.

She blinked.

He pulled back slowly, eyes flicking to hers, something playful swimming behind the gold.

“Did I get ya hopes up?” he asked, voice low—teasing, but… still not quite as cocky as usual.

(Y/n) scoffed, instantly deflecting. “As if.”

He grinned, head tilting. “That a no?”

“That’s a shut up, Atsumu.”

His grin only widened. He flopped back onto his elbows with all the satisfaction of a man who had absolutely, without question, gotten her hopes up.

Then—playfully, shamelessly—

“Round two?”

She smacked him with a throw pillow before her brain could catch up.

He accepted it like a blessing, laughter spilling out of him—loud and stupid and happy. Grinning like a boy who just found a coin on the ground and got praised for it.

[saturnznct]

how he acts when you're pregnant | enhypen x reader

➸ request from anon; heyy, I’m so happy you’re back! You’re fics were always my go-to if I wanted to read anything dad/pregnancy related, loved them all! can you please write about how enhypen would treat you during pregnancy, like their protectiveness, taking care of the reader, or when she’s having complications etc. 🤍

➸ note; hehe me too thank you so much!! that makes me so happy!! i don't love some of these but I hope they're what you wanted <3

➸ word count; 2335 words

➸ sangyoon, sam, ella, eunhye, yeeun, seren; in the womb lol

➸ warning(s); mentions of vomiting, implied sexy time, gestational diabetes, preeclampsia, mentions of possible birth complications

enhypen masterlist

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

heeseung

Heeseung can’t take his hands off you.

You don’t know if it’s because you’re newlyweds, or if it’s because you’re pregnant, but he can’t stay away.

At least one hand is always somewhere on you, on your shoulder, around your waist, on your thigh or knee. 

At night, it doesn’t matter if it’s in the dead of summer, his arm is snaked around you and his head is buried in the back of your neck.

Once you reach your second trimester, and your bump becomes noticeable, Heeseung is always touching your bump, tapping it absentmindedly with his fingers, beaming from ear to ear when eventually he can feel your baby boy squirming underneath his touch.

Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night to the push of feet against his palms, it made him smile every time.

Heeseung is also completely whipped for you, he’ll do anything you ask. 

Your cravings get intense, and he doesn’t complain when you wake him at three in the morning whining about salted popcorn with cheese on. And he goes to the store for you, every time.

Heeseung isn’t usually very sappy, but as soon as your bump pops up he’s the most sentimental soppy man in the world.

Every morning and night he talks to your bump about anything and everything. Even during the day he will randomly address the bump asking it questions.

‘Okay, little one,’ Heeseung sinks to his knees one morning, resting a hand on either side of your bump, ‘kick once for cornflakes. Kick twice for the chocolate cereal.’

You giggle, ‘you’re an idiot.’

‘I’m indecisive. This boy needs to pull his weight and help me. He’s already living here rent free for the next however long.’

You roll your eyes, going back to your own breakfast.

‘What do you think baby boy?’ Heeseung gently pokes at your bump attempting to illicit a response.

Eventually your son delivers a single kick, causing you to choke on your coffee. 

‘Unlucky,’ you laugh at his disappointed face, ‘cornflakes it is.’

‘I will evict him as soon as physically possible. How can he disrespect me like this in my own house.’

‘Can’t wait until he’s actually here,’ you murmur.

‘Me too,’ Heeseung kisses your bump before getting up to kiss your head and reach for the cornflakes.

jay

Jay isn’t too overbearing during your pregnancy. He’s not the type to constantly ask if you need anything, he will wait for you to ask him.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t anticipate your needs, you’ll come home from a late shift to find your pregnancy pillow already set up, your cravings are always fully stocked and there’s always plenty of bubble bath.

Where he does get somewhat intense is in public.

Jay constantly worries about harm coming to either of you. When you go shopping, he’s careful not to be recognised, wearing hats and glasses as to not to draw attention to you. In airports, his arm is always around you, guiding you around. 

So, when he’s on tour during your pregnancy and you come to visit, he’s on high alert.

‘Jay, I can walk around the venue by myself,’ you’re escorted into the dressing room by a security guard.

Jay pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head, ‘there’s lots of equipment around baby, what if you hurt yourself?’

You roll your eyes, ‘have I ever hurt myself backstage before?’

‘Let me look after you,’ he pecks your lips, ‘anyway, it’s soundcheck soon. There’s a nice chair set up for you beside the stage for the actual show as well-‘

‘Wait, I’m going to watch from backstage?’

‘Yeah, of course,’ Jay says, ‘going out there can’t be good for you, or the baby-‘

‘But you know I love being in the audience,’ you pout, ‘Jay, I want to be out there singing along with my lightstick just like everyone else.’

Jay tilts his head, ‘I don’t know, sweetheart, you’re so far along and the fans can be so intense…’

‘I’ll be in the stands with your managers, I’ll have so much space!’

‘I just have visions of you falling over or someone bumping into you..’

‘Please, baby,’ you pull out the puppy eyes, wrapping your arms around his waist, and you quickly see him crumble.

‘Fine, but minimal dancing,’ he taps your nose, ‘and a security guard.’

Just then, a stage runner knocks on the door, letting Jay know he’s needed for soundcheck.

‘Come on, I’ll take you to your seat.’ 

‘Jay!’

jake

When you first found out you were pregnant, Jake sort of panics a little bit.

You’re hunched over the toilet and throwing up he doesn’t really know what to do. This is completely new territory for him. Your early symptoms often have him incredibly flustered, you’re emotional, your boobs hurt and you’re constantly dizzy.

One night, Jake comes home from practice, and it’s like his instincts awaken when he sees you in the bathroom, on the floor sobbing.

‘Jake,’ you cry when you see him, and he’s instantly at your side on the tiles, ‘I can’t do this anymore.’

Jake takes you into his arms, letting you cry into his shoulder.

‘I know I haven’t been the most.. helpful,’ he murmurs, ‘but I know you, and you are so strong, and you can do this. And I will do everything and anything you need from me, okay?’

From then on, Jake is the most attentive boyfriend, and is very touchy. You don’t even have to ask, and he’s giving you a foot massage. You come home from work, and there’s already a bath run for you at the perfect temperature.

Once you’re four months in, your bump becomes noticeable, and Jake’s level of affection is just exacerbated. 

Every night he rubs your lotion on your bump, tells the bump about his day, and sleeping with his hand on it.

When you’re hormonal, he holds you.

‘Everything hurts, Jake,’ you sob, ‘all day. She’s been sitting on my spine all day, and I’ve been having braxtons, and my boobs hurt and they’re leaking, I tried to nap but I just couldn’t-‘

Jake from month one in your pregnancy would’ve freaked out at your outburst, but this Jake, in month seven, is calm and collected.

He runs you a bath, filling it with lavender bubbles. On your insistence, he gets in behind you, rubbing your back, shoulders and achy breasts.

’Is that better?’ Jake murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver down your spine and stirring up your hormones.

‘Much,’ you roll your head back against his shoulder, ‘you’re the best.’

He kisses your head, ‘how about we get out and go lay down?’

‘We can get out,’ you nod, ‘but can we do more than lay down?’

Jake grins cheekily, ‘incredible idea.’

sunghoon

For your whole pregnancy, Sunghoon is just filled with pride. He shows ultrasound photos to everyone and talks nonstop about your incoming baby girl to anyone that will listen.

Sunghoon becomes a bit of a pregnancy expert. Every book he can get his hands on, he reads cover to cover. He knows what to expect, what was abnormal and everything in-between. 

So Sunghoon did notice just how much you were needing to go to the bathroom. 

It was relentless. He would wake up several times a night to you wriggling out of his arms and padding into your ensuite. During the day, you’re constantly up and down needing to pee, when you’re driving you have Sunghoon pull into service stations constantly. 

He brings it up to your doctor at the next scan. Your doctor agrees that the rate of your bathroom trips are a little out of the ordinary, so he refers you for blood tests. 

‘Gestational diabetes,’ you read the words on the leaflet, slumped in the passenger seat of your car.

‘Y/N..’

‘This is my fault.’

‘Y/N, you heard the doctor. Sometimes these things just happen,’ Sunghoon rests a hand on your arm.

‘What if something happens to her because of this? I know he said that the risks were small, but what if?’ you begin to tear up.

’She was perfect on the scan the other day, remember? I’m going to help you through this. We’re going to get through this.’

Sunghoon stayed up all night that night reading article after article about gestational diabetes. You woke up the next morning to find a full google doc with meal plans, exercise routines and a schedule to check your blood sugars.

He happily did everything with you, eating the same meals and cutting down on sugar. 

On an evening, the two of you would go down to the pool in your apartment complex for a swim. You would slowly swim around while chatting, usually about the baby or work. 

‘You’ve made this so much easier for me,’ you stand over your daughter’s empty crib, damp hair occasionally dripping onto your bump, ‘thank you.’

‘It’s what I’m supposed to do,’ Sunghoon gently turns you around by your waist and kisses your nose, ‘as your husband and her father.’

‘We love you, Hoon.’

‘I love you too.’

sunoo

Sunoo feels totally out of his depth. 

Suddenly his fiancee is pregnant, something you never expected. He doesn’t know the first thing about pregnancy, and doesn’t know how to respond to your symptoms. He sort of just treats you as if you’re sick, bringing you soup and tea but keeping his distance. At the same time, you’re hormonal, and can’t understand why he’s staying away.

You worry he doesn’t want the baby, that he’s having second thoughts, or you’re bothering him too much with your requests. In reality, Sunoo is just so worried that he’s not being helpful, or that somehow he might hurt or upset you.

One night you’re laying in bed together watching TV in silence, you essentially lose it.

’Sunoo,’ you’re tearing up, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Why?’ he whips his head around to look at you, ‘for what?’

‘You’re just distant, and you keep away from me, I barely see you. If it’s me or the baby I would rather you just tell me-’

’No- no, that’s not it at all. I want you and the baby more than anything in the world.’

Sunoo is quiet for a few moments, ‘I’m sorry. I guess I’m just scared. I’ve been retreating into my head and haven’t been there for you like I should be.’

‘Sunoo, we need to talk to each other. I need to know how you feel. If we’re going to be parents, we need to be a team, we need to be in sync.’

‘I know, you’re right. I promise going forward I’ll be more open with you about how I feel.’

From then on, he’s obsessed with all things pregnancy and baby.

Every few days you’ll come home to a package addressed to you that you didn’t order, containing a weird pregnancy product that he saw on TikTok.

You and Sunoo talk constantly. You chat late at night in bed, in the morning on your balcony as the sun comes up, in the car on an evening, all about your excitement and fears surrounding the baby. 

Sunoo also becomes somewhat clingy, especially at night or when you’re in crowds. While before you were pregnant he would usually just throw an arm around you, now he sleeps completely pressed against you, his chest to your back.

‘I love you,’ he mumbles into your neck one night, ‘thank you for giving me my dream.’

jungwon

Your pregnancy with Serin is very turbulent. 

For the first half, everything is fairly smooth.

You get sick, and Jungwon holds your hair back. You have mood swings, he tries his best to be empathetic. 

Jungwon knows enough to understand that these things are par for the course, so he’s supportive but not too concerned about your symptoms. 

You were around halfway through your pregnancy when the less than normal symptoms began.

Jungwon would come home from practice to you sitting in a completely dark room. 

‘Why are you sitting in the dark?’

Your head was in your hands, unable to be lifted.

‘I have the worst migraine I think I have ever had,’ you whine, ‘I have taken as much paracetamol as I am allowed. I had a bath in the dark, put a cold cloth on my forehead. Wonnie it’s so bad, I can barely see..’

Jungwon holds you, massaging your head until you fall asleep hours later. 

When the headaches and vision problems persist, you make an emergency appointment. 

‘Bed,’ Jungwon practically pushes you up the stairs when you get home, supervising and making sure you were changing into comfortable clothes and getting under the covers. 

Your intense headaches turn out to be preeclampsia. Although at the moment Serin was measuring well, the doctor had warned you of the potential complications, including preterm labour or low birth weight. 

You’d been ordered to take strict bed rest. 

For the remainder of your pregnancy, Jungwon waits on you hand and foot. 

He’s suddenly fussing over you, messing with your pillows and cushions. He brings up your food on trays, eating every meal beside you. The two of you tear through countless shows on a plethora of streaming services. He holds you when you cry in frustration. He holds your hand when the doctor visits every week.  

‘Baby, it’s ready,’ Jungwon enters your bedroom, approaching the bed.

‘Really?’ you warm with excitement at the prospect of getting out of bed, ‘can I see?’

Jungwon helps you get up, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you walk. 

He leads you down the corridor and into your daughters nursery, which he, Jay and Heeseung had spent all day decorating.

‘Oh, it’s beautiful,’ hot tears spring to your eyes, ‘you guys.. It’s exactly how I imagined.’

‘She’ll be in there so soon,’ Jungwon lays a hand on the rail of the crib, ‘and no matter what happens, she’ll be fine.’

[keferon]

Sorry in advance for the word vomit but. I love the whole Jazz-and-Prowl figuring out the language barrier but also consider:

They don't.

Prowl's been captured by Quintessons and is currently thinking of ways to completely scrape his processor so they can't get any useful data, only to get rescued by a random mech. They fight their way out (the mech is extremely proficient in combat). At first he thinks it's a drone- it looks at him when he asks questions but doesn't answer (responds to noise, not language), it is sparkless (not alive) and it makes random but entirely incoherent noises and doesn't even ping (not able to communicate). Prowl has no idea what's going on but he's too injured to make it back to base alone and it's helping him? So. He chalks it up to some waylaid stealth military asset and tries to think of ways to both get it back to base whilst also making sure it's not some sort of Quintesson Trojan-horse [10%].

Meanwhile, Jazz was sent to blow up a Quintesson command camp by his organisation but instead he got thrown through a weird portal, and found a pilot all tied down and probably being tortured so naturally he busted him out but uh. He has no idea what the other is saying. He's talking in total tonal gibberish. Not that he's judging, he's heard some stuff about how far other piloting programs are willing to go to advance neural technology. And his face! He has one! A handsome one. Must be some advanced shit because he's got micro expressions and he's using them to frown as him. Anyways, Jazz's got bigger fish to fry. The sky's a different colour, there are two suns and atmo is reading terribly low levels of O2. Maybe he and this pilot got thrown into an alien planet? Cool- well, actually pretty bad but hey they're in this together.

Prowl knows by models that they're bound to run into another Quintesson patrol eventually, and based on the drones alertness to its surroundings, his previous observations to its capacity to fight, and how it doesn't stray to far from him, if patrol numbers are favourable [1-8 range] they can survive [70, .5]% the route back to base. But the drone is reckless and abandons him to the melee (how can a drone be reckless?) and Prowl gets injured worse. Energon drips from wounds, and the angle makes it challenging for him to patch it. But the drone creeps closer, folds to its (knees? Its joints are in an odd but effective configuration) and gently (gently?) begins to mimic (clumsily) Prowl's motions of patching his wounds. Here is where Prowl falters, because drones are not so careful. Drones do not do not look up multiple times at his faceplates, and become more delicate when they see you in pain. Drones don't hold out a servo and help you to your pedes when your done. Which begs the question, if he's not a drone, so what has been done to this mech?

Jazz on the other hand is freaking the fuck out. Naturally. Because uh, he started slicing Quints, expecting Frowny to do the same because his mech was still clearly operational, only for the idiot to completely disregarded normal combat standards which can be summarised as 'fight hard or die' and instead get chewed on by some big ass teeth.

Only to see the glowing purple dripping from his torn sides, only to see that he's bleeding.

Machines don't bleed.

So Jazz figures out Frowny is an alien first. He starts pointing at himself and saying his name, insistently, until Frowny repeats it. He points at Frowny, and records and replays whatever sound bite Frowny makes until Frowny's also nodding in confirmation. He still calls him Frowny, because even though he has his name? Probably? He has no idea what it means and can't actually pronounce it (no idea how to get a mouth to move that way) but hey! Progress! He does this again and again with small things (rock, hand, cyber?animals, music (Frowny's confused at that one it's pretty adorable) ect.

Prowl has no idea what to make of this strange mech. Is he a failed experiment? A runaway from Cybertron following the Functionalists rise or power? Thennn Prowl finds out one fateful night that the mech is actually an alien organic (in a fit of misunderstandings, and squeezes him pretty hard for it ouch and feels SO guilty about it later) and suddenly the language/culture barrier makes way more sense.

Prowl's injuries degrade (a line splits). He has no way to communicate this except for the energon dripping out of his chassis. The organic is clearly worried (how did he think he was ever sparkless), and Prowl can't reach the injury himself. So he guides the mech's servos past armour and wiring, down to protoform (near his sparkchamber) to the split line. Gestures and hopes the mech can figure out what to do from his miming[#^%]. That'll he'll be careful, and won't hurt him [5%, 87%, #*%, *########%].

Frowny is later picking shrapnel stuck in his forearm that's too small for him to remove, so Jazz gets out of his mech to help with his small human hands. Jazz has no way to communicate to Frowny that if he moves, he'll sheer Jazz's limbs clean off, but he goes in anyway, because Frowny's hurt, and speckled in blood. Because he's clearly struggling and hurt and tired. Because Jazz has to trust that he won't.

Frowny's injures eventually make him collapse, and Jazz carries him the rest of the way. Jazz has no idea how they'll be received (especially considering how Frowny reacted when he found out Jazz was organic). Jazz knows he might be dissected. Knows he might be pulled apart (again) but.

He remembers all the little moments they had on their journey (Frowny shielding him from falling rubble when Jazz was out of his mech once, them getting to gesticulating arguments, Frowny's reaction to his music, how he fell asleep on Jazz once and it was fricken adorable).

It doesn't matter that Jazz can't say (barely understands) his actual name. That Frowny probably doesn't understand his. It doesn't matter that they talk in halting miming, in broken sound clips and touches and half-glares.

He's already gone out on all his limbs, might as well put his head on the chopping block. And if it causes him to lose the damn thing, well.

He's a pilot. Dying horribly is practically his job description.

OOOUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHH DYING HORRIBLY IS PRACTICALLY HIS JOB DESCRIPTION,,,,,,,,,,,