#as his vision got darker and darker and darker

[antoimne]

do you do darker content?

if so can i request the hunters witnessing their survivor lover after a match all beaten up and bloody?

Part one- 🩸How would hunters react seeing their s/o bloody and injured after a match?

🪨 Fool’s gold x !injured reader

🌪️ Nightwatch x !injured reader

🥀 The ripper x !injured reader

Yes yes! I’m thinking of doing this for all hunters, so I’ll probably divide it in multiple parts. Here’s the first one to apologize for taking time to respond :,) Hope this isn’t too far off what you were thinking! I’ll try to write for the others soon!

Tw: mentions of blood and injures (obv)

Matches had been particularly intense for you that day—hunters seemed rougher than usual, their attacks filled with something almost personal. At first, you weren’t sure why. But then it clicked.

Ever since you and your lover had begun your relationship, things had slowly began to change. Almost imperceptibly at first—but now? Now it was undeniable. The rumors had spread. The manor was small, and secrets couldn’t stay buried for long.

You’d both agreed to keep things low profile. You knew how cruel the other hunters could be. It was as if the manor was leeching what little humanity remained from them, leaving only hollow, destructive shells of what they once were.

You were nearly finished decoding the final machine, heart fluttering at the thought of your warm room—and your lover’s embrace—when you felt something, rather someone looming behind you.

You didn’t even get the chance to turn.

All you felt was a sudden wave of pain rushing through your body, blinding and immediate as your vision grew blank.

🪨 Fool’s Gold

Fool’s knew you. Knew your stubbornness, your skill, and—most of all—your loyalty. You always came back, like you promised every time before a match. So when you didn’t walk out the gate with your teammates, a cold churn stirred in his gut. Something was wrong.

He went to look for you himself, crossing the gate where the latest game had just taken place. It didn’t take long before he found you crumpled near a bush—bloody, bruised, your clothes torn and your head soaked in a thick layer of red.

“Y/n. Fuck.”

He dropped to his knees, scooping you into his arms. Sure, his limbs were jagged—stone and flesh fused unnaturally—but it couldn’t hurt more than what had already been done to you.

“Tell me who the hell did this to you. Now.”

Your head ached intensely. You blinked slowly, disoriented. “I... I don’t know. I didn’t see—”

His arms tightened around you. His furious eyes scanned the treeline, as if to identify an immediate threat before softening as they fell back to your face.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out later,” he whispered. “I’ll find the bastard that did this to you and pickaxe their bones as if to strike the finest mineral.”

The threat came out like a promise of love.

Because for him, that’s what it was.

You were the only precious thing he had left. In a life full of violence, grief, and regret—you were gold. His true treasure.

“Why are you always so reckless?” he rasped. “You’re supposed to survive—for me. Remember what you promised?”

You barely lifted your hand to cup his jaw. “I’m faithful to my word, you know that. I’m still here.”

His breath hitched, voice raw. “No more close calls, baby. I don’t intend to let you go.”

🌪️ Nightwatch

Ithaqua had long since given up on trusting others. Living beings were cruel. Humans, especially, were the worst of them all—corrupted creatures hiding behind normal faces.

Even among the other hunters, he stood apart. Wary. Resented. He was a monster, just like the other killers- but at least they all knew what they were. The survivors were just as dirty—only better at pretending. Hiding.

When you first got close to him, it was during a blizzard. The manor had been sealed off, snow piling at the doors. You’d somehow managed to walk out into the woods that day, ignoring every warning the other survivors gave you.

The air in the manor had grown heavy. You needed space.

And there, in the freezing milky void, you’d found him.

Ithaqua had been born in the cold. It was all he knew, all he was. When he saw you—lost in the same way he was, no sense of belonging—something happened. He felt intrigued.

He never said much directly , still wary of you, but something in him softened. Small gestures. Simple genuine tenderness in his acts. His way to show care.

So when he saw you crawling near the gate, clothes torn, a puddle of blood peeking through your shirt—something twisted in his chest.

Panic. Memories. The echo of his most painful childhood terror: loss.

Without a word, he swept you into his arms, cradling you against the fur of his coat.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured, tucking your trembling form beneath his jacket to shield you from the rising wind.

He walked, slow and steady, back toward the manor. Back to safety.

His fingers brushed a wound on your forehead.

“Why did it have to be you?” he whispered, voice tinged with a vulnerability you’d never heard before. “Why like this?”

“I’m sorry, Itha,” you mumbled, lips trembling slightly, both from the cold and genuine fear for what you’d just been through.

“Stay awake. Stay with me,” he repeated almost like a mantra. You could feel his breath quick and ragged under his mask.

“You must stay with me. I assure you, chewing my heart and spitting it out would be a lot easier than losing you. I mean it”. 🥀The ripper

You managed to make it back to the manor—somehow, unexpectedly.

The moment Jack saw you stumble through the gates, bruised and disheveled, trying one last effort to drag yourself toward your room, his blood ran cold.

His tall frame moved towards you, hands reaching out carefully as if you were made of glass- like you might shatter at the slightest touch.

“Darling, you’re hurt.”

He stated the obvious as you looked up at him, eyes heavy and tired.

“No, I’m good... it just looks worse than it is. Really.”

Jack pulled a cloth from his pocket—his usual cavalry—and gently dabbed some blood dripping down your temple.

“Don’t lie. I told you to be careful. Why didn’t you listen?”

There was no bitterness in his voice—only guilt, and maybe something darker lurking beneath.

“Next time, do anything—decode, hide—but don’t put yourself in danger. Don’t make me risk losing you for people not worth it.”

You looked down silently, almost like a kid punished for some sort of mischief.

“Who did this to you?” he pressed suddenly, eyes piercing through yours.

You couldn’t answer. Not because you didn’t want to, but because the chaos of the chase had practically erased the assailant’s face from your memory.

Jack didn’t care. He didn’t need answers. He already knew everything he needed to know. Or at least- he’d have made sure to find out.

He simply nodded, guiding you to sit in his room so he could tend to your wounds. Gentle, careful, almost worshipping in the care he used with you.

Don’t worry, though—next time, you’ll notice a thicker layer of fog creeping around the manor, an edge of silence hanging heavier than before. And sure as hell he could bet, there’ll be one less soul to count, one less person to feed the insatiable bloodthirst of the manor.

————————-

By the way if you imagine Jack as Tuberose it’s better tbh

Dayum

[itadooori]

ive been thinking abt this specific sinners quote a lot lately so i scribbled the hwang bros with it

[deerdogs]

ignore my 82648837 different art styles i change brushes a lot. What’s up i missed him so bad Check tags for rambling and stuff

[nochepsicodelica]

The door to your shared bedroom creaks open, and Toji is greeted by the sight of you sleeping. It's five in the afternoon and you're bundled up in the covers, soft breaths exiting through your mouth because your nose is congested. You look all cozy, like a hibernating bear, on his side of the bed. It would be a more adorable sight under different circumstances, but this is the product of you catching a cold.

Toji sets the small bag filled with your medicine and other little things he hopes will make you feel better, on his nightstand. He crouches down in front of you and brings a noticeably cooler hand to your heated cheek.

"Hey," Toji calls, gently pinching your cheek. Your hearing must be muffled, because you don't budge and remain in your deep sleep. "Ma," he tries again, shaking you by your shoulder this time. You stir and attempt to roll over in the other direction, towards the center of the bed, but Toji keeps you steady by tugging on the blanket you're cocooned in. "Wake up, mama. Just for a little. I got your stuff. Medicine, snacks— you probably won't be able to taste them, but they're there."

You open your eyes, and simply blink. The room is darker and more shadowy since you went down for your supposed nap. It's been hours, but your body still feels so tired and your head is pulsing.

"How are you feeling?" Toji asks.

You were trying to say "so so", but no sound came out, so it seemed like you were mouthing the words instead. You felt the effort your vocal cords made, but your voice was shot. Nothing is audible unless it's strained. A huff and a roll of your eyes let Toji know how bad of a time you were having.

"Gotcha," Toji responds to your attempt to speak, a soft smile on his face.

He stands up from his crouched position and turns to the bag on his nightstand, rummaging through it to grab the box of medicine at the bottom and your water bottle. He sees you untangling yourself from the covers and sitting up to rest against the headboard, in his peripheral vision. Your hair is messy, some of it is stuck to your forehead from how much you've been sweating, even though you've felt cold the whole time. You can't breathe properly out of your nose, and your throat is sore. Your entire demeanor just screams "sick".

Toji offers you two gel capsules and twists the cap off your bottle of water, before handing it to you as well. You toss the pills into your mouth, and wash them down with a swig of water. In an attempt to clear your nose, you sniff a few times, getting absolutely no change in your ability to breathe through your nose.

"Go back to sleep. I'll get you some soup for when you wake up, 'kay?"

You nod and set your water bottle down on Toji's nightstand, before you slide back down the bed and shift comfortably onto your side. The blanket is wrapped around you, again, and you're ready to shut your eyes. Toji comes closer, crouching down like he did when he woke you up.

"Mm-mm," you hum, the sound cracked and barely audible, a response to Toji leaning in and trying to kiss you.

"Come on, ma. It's been a whole day. Just one. A peck?"

"No," you whisper, only able to communicate verbally in this hushed voice.

"Oh. You want me to have two?" He says, with a playful smirk.

You give him a deadpan expression and shift in the blanket, bringing it up to cover your mouth.

"Okay, fine. Just one."

You shake your head, minimally. Just enough so that you don't shake your brain and make your head hurt even more, and he still gets the message.

"Be nice, mama. Just one, then i'll leave you alone--" he pauses, briefly, "--until I come back with your soup. Then you gotta give me another one. You know, Toji Tax."

You roll your eyes and huff. The Toji Tax is just Toji's way of getting extra loving from you. There's a Toji Tax on just about everything he does for you, so you're not surprised that your sickness doesn't exempt you from it.

Your reaction showed the signs that let Toji know that he's about to get what he wants. The barrier you raised over your mouth is lowered, your involuntary pout now on full display, ready to be kissed whenever Toji's ready.

"Don't look too excited," Toji jests. He chuckles at the gloomy expression on your face. You look absolutely miserable in this state. It's adorable, and while he would love to keep teasing you, he decides to move faster so that you can get your rest.

It starts with a peck—as promised. He's slow with separating his lips from yours, to keep the contact with you going for as long as possible. Then he goes in for another one—just as gentle and delayed in separation. You still haven't done anything to stop him, so he keeps going in for more and more, each kiss more fervent than the last. Within seconds, he's barraging you with quick kisses, back to back, as if to make up for the last twenty-four hours he went without feeling your soft lips against his. He's getting closer, almost climbing into bed with you, so you hum and turn your head. He starts following your movement, like an eager puppy, chasing after more of your kisses.

"Don't care if I get sick, ma."

You hum in disapproval and push his face away when he starts leaning in, again. Quickly, you cover your head with the blanket and roll to the other side of the bed.

Toji sighs, a mischievous smirk lingering on his face. He got way more than he expected, but when it comes to you, he can never have enough. He stands up from the awkward position he got himself into while he chased after your lips, and looks at your bundled up figure, now out of his reach.

"I'll be back, doll. Gonna go get your soup, but remember... Toji Tax."

[lulunothulu]

“That’s what she said”

Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader

Summary: A fic in which Bob has the opportunity to say “that’s what she said” and get something out of it 👀

Content: fluff, 18+ sexual innuendoes, some swearing, alluding to sex

Your callsign: Raven

“I have never seen a woman have half her pussy shaved and half of it a bush,” Hangman drawls from his seat by the pool table.

Bob’s eyes widened, falling to you. Only, you weren’t paying attention to him. No, you were drunkenly laughing at the idiot that was Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

“I’m sorry,” Rooster starts, blinking and shaking his head as he takes a seat beside Phoenix. “What the hell brought this up?”

“Raven asked Bagman if he’d ever seen that,” Phoenix tells him. “He responded as you were walking up.”

Bob is still mortified, blue eyes wide and rimmed with laughter at how uncontrollably giddy you were. Your head was tilted back, hand on your chest. Laughter and giggles still lingered on your lips.

Bob had decided he liked the vision your head back, mouth open. Maybe he liked it a bit too much because I finds himself staring at you.

Quickly, he turns away before anyone can notice he was staring, a blush creeping up his neck.

“What about you, Bobby boy?” Hangman directs his attention on him.

When he quirks his brows up and down at him, Bob feels like he’s about to melt into a puddle of flesh and glasses right there on his stool.

Only, he doesn’t get to because you’d sobered up and stopped laughing.

“Hey,” you start. “Don’t fuck with my boy Bobby here.”

“What? Only you get to fuck with him?” Hangman challenges.

“As a matter of fact I do.”

“That’s what she said.” Bob hears Coyote mutter, the blush turning hotter and darker.

Hangman scoffs, taking a swig of his beer. “He wishes.”

“You know what,” you start. “Yeah, Bob would be lucky to fuck me.”

“Why? You got a half shaved situation down there?” Hangman asks, winking at you.

You roll your eyes, turning your attention to Bob now.

Bob had never seen someone so beautiful in his life. You’re everything he could’ve ever wanted. Perfect eyes, perfect nose, perfect body. Hell, you were even funny as fuck with a great personality.

You were right, he would be lucky to fuck you.

“Why not take a ride on this cowboy?” Hangman drawls, his Texan accent a lot more prominent with the alcohol in his system.

“Because you’re too easy,” you respond. You barely make a move to look at him, eyes only on Bob, a playful smirk in your face. “Bobby on the other hand…he’d be hard.”

Bob doesn’t even know why he says what he says next. It just kind of rolls off his tongue before he can think twice.

“That’s what she said.”

There’s a beat of silence before the group begins to howl. Phoenix doubles over, Rooster’s practically crying, and you…you were speechless. Your eyes are wide, mouth slightly ajar in a dumbfounded smile.

“Innocent” Bob has made his first dirty-esque joke and you got be there to see it.

“Woah there Bob,” you start to joke. “Don’t make me ask just how hard it can get.”

Then again, Bob finds himself unable to keep his damn mouth shut. Because next thing he knows, his mouth is moving and more words (flirty words) are coming out of his mouth.

“Why don’t you come over here and see just how hard I can get?”

What. The fuck. Was. Happening??

You smirk, eyes becoming playfully wicked. “You think I don’t know my way around a hard—” You look up and down. “—Situation?”

Bob gulps, your eyes are playful but each one of your words are laced with challenge. Like you’re ready to take him right then and there.

“I think we’ve lost the plot,” Coyote says.

You and Bob don’t hear him, instead, you’re focused on each other. Chests rising in tandem, hearts probably beating at the same rhythm. You don’t even realize the group has moved to another side of the bar.

You can only focus on Bob and those dorky glasses that frame those navy eyes. When was the last time you’d gotten laid? When was the last time a man has looked at you the way Bob is now? Hungry and lust-filled. You didn’t remember and suddenly, maybe out of loneliness mixed with the crush you had on him, you find yourself crossing two steps to get to this man.

You place your arms around his neck, leaning in as far as he’ll allow you. Up close, you can see his pupils dilate, those navy eyes impossibly dark. It’s like the closer you get to him, the more you can feel that he wants to touch you.

So you lean into him, lips barely brushing the shell of his ear, and say, “What’s the matter, Bob? Scared you’ll get too…” And for emphasis, you grind your hips into his before adding the final word. “Hard?”

“Y/N,” he says, finding the courage deep within his stomach. “You wouldn’t be able to handle me if I were hard.”

Bob’s chest is on fire. The way your hips grid into his, the feel of the warmth on and around him is sending him into a frenzy. He finds himself wanting to kiss you, to shove your hands down his pants. He wants to feel your fingers curl around his—

“And what if I said I could?” You whisper back.

Holy shit. You were going to be the death of him.

Bob doesn’t waste any time. He’s standing, towering over you before he hoists you over his shoulder and carries you to the exit. Behind, you both hear the Dagger Squad whoop and scream profanities at you both.

Ignoring them, Bob keeps walking. Out the bar, to his car, and then into his driver’s seat once you’re buckled into the passenger side. He turns to you, chest heaving.

“Can I take you home?”

“As long you take me to yours,” you respond coolly.

When he squeezes your thigh, you let out a yelp. Suddenly, you were excited to see where your flirting is going to take you...hopefully somewhere hard and long.

That's what she (you) said later.

-----

This took so long to finish omg I'm so sorry that it did becasue this was so fun to type up.

[buckysleftbicep]

Ahhhh omg I love gentleman Bucky. Like so chivalrous and respectful. But with him being feral and obsessed with you at the same time. Being obsessed with pleasuring you and treating pleasuring you like his life’s honour. NEED HIM

oh god, i do too. i wrote this in my hotel room and i'm thinking about how much i want bucky 😭.

here's a little something before i crash for the night ❤️

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni

Bucky's the kind of man who would open doors, carry your bags and kisses the back of your hand like it's the most natural thing in the world.

He is polite to a fault—chivalrous, old-school, the kind of gentleman who calls you baby, sweetheart, darling with a softness that could melt steel.

But underneath all that clean-shaven charm and quiet smiles is something much darker. A need that simmers just beneath the surface, sharp and hungry, and so intense it borders on obsession.

Because you know what they say—gentleman in the streets, freak in the sheets—and Bucky god damn lives it.

In public, he’s all warmth and patience, touching the small of your back, pulling out your chair, kissing your hand like you’re something fragile.

But behind closed doors? He’s anything but gentle.

Because when he has you alone, the gloves come off—figuratively and literally.

That pretty mouth, the one that whispered yes, sweetheart at dinner? It’s filthy now—groaning against your inner thigh, spitting on your pussy just to watch it drip down before he licks it clean.

He doesn’t just want to make you cum. He wants to break you with it. Wants to feel you scream his name, claw at his back, sob through your orgasms until your voice gives out.

He’ll have you shaking, begging, soaking the sheets—and he’ll still ask for more.

He eats you like he’s starving, like it’s the only thing that’s ever tasted good to him. Tongue buried deep, moaning into your cunt like your pleasure is air in his fucking lungs.

He keeps you spread for him, held down and worshipped, hands gripping your thighs like he owns them.

Like he owns you.

And maybe he does—at least in that moment, when you’re crying out his name and he’s murmuring, “That’s it, princess, just like that. Gimme another. I need it.”

He doesn't just want you to cum—he needs it. Treats your orgasms like they're sacred, like his purpose is to bring you to your edge, over and over, until you're trembling and slick and gasping into his shoulder, and even then, he doesn’t stop.

God, he can’t stop. Not until you’re spent and messy and ruined, soaked thighs draped over his shoulders and voice hoarse from your pretty cries.

Don't even get me started on the way he fucks you.

It’s brutal. Raw. Like he’s been starved of you for too damn long and now that he’s got you under him, he’s going to devour you from the inside out.

He slams into you, thick cock stretching you wide, splitting you open with every desperate, punishing stroke. He keeps one hand wrapped around your throat, anchoring you, to remind you exactly who you belong to.

His other hand is everywhere—gripping your ass, spreading your legs wider, shoving them up until your knees are almost hitting your chest so he can get deeper. Just so he can hit that spot that makes your vision blur.

“Listen to you,” he grits out, lips brushing your ear as your soaked cunt sucks him in again and again. “Dripping all over my cock. Fuckin’ obsessed with it, aren’t you?”

And you are. You can’t even deny it—not with the way you’re clenching around him, begging without words, just breathy little whimpers and moans that only make him fuck you harder.

His hips are relentless, slapping into you with wet, obscene sounds, his balls tight and heavy against your ass as he drives in so deep it feels like he’s fucking you right into the mattress.

He doesn’t stop when you cum.

Fuck, he barely slows down—just grins, wicked and dark, as you tremble beneath him, whining from the overstimulation.

“That’s one sweetheart,” he mutters, dragging his cock out just enough to watch your slick coat him before slamming back in. “You’ve got more in you. Gonna fuck you until you forget how to fucking breathe.”

a/n: okay now i am horny

[satrs]

Got a tape? Press play!

Synopsis. Videos hold memories you can look back to. So why not make one with him to capture your lewd memorials?

Feat. GAKU. SHIN ASAKURA. YOICHI NAGUMO. NATSUKI SEBA. xfem!reader

Tags. MDNI. recording intimate acts. smexual intercourse. unprotected s$x. dirty talk. breeding(?). doggy. a$$ smacking. cunnilingus. oral(fem!receiving). riding. reverse cowgirl. teasing. cl!toral play. slight dumbification in gakus & shishibas. overstim in gakus. brief use of esp in shins. Use of good girl in nagumos.

✎ A/N; Hihi lovelys!^^ Didn't see enough sakamoto days post and was genuienly shocked??? So yk mama had to cook something tf up! Hope you enjoy this! ^^

Gaku ★ Back view!

The obnoxious, striking sound begins to be a never-ending cycle, his hips snapping against your rear, cock head bruising your mushy g-spot. Your sounds muffled against the sheets, the patch of saliva turning the white material into a darker shade.

He's knocking the wind out of your lungs, deep calculated thrusts causing the barely stable bed to creak!

Oh, no.

You try to warn him, but as you lift your head to say something, his hard thrust sends you flying forward headfirst into the pillow again.

It’s not that he could hear you anyway, not over the nasty squelching of your cunny, not when he’s switching his fixated gaze from your bullied cunt to the phone in his hand, and surely not when he’s in this deep fixated trance.

"Nghhh! R-right there!"

There's barely any sense left in his head as your mushy walls stick to him like glue, engulfing his gushing cockhead in a tight headlock. Fuck, he feels like he might die if you keep choking him like this.

His hand traces down the curve of your ass, spreading your cheek for a better view. And as embarrassing as it is, he couldn't give one fuck about the absurdly loud moan he lets out.

Smack!

The loud sound of his skin adoring your ass in a crimson shade erupts, functioning as a silent instruction you understand almost instantly, arching your back in a way that your lower half almost levitates off the mattress.

Gakus audible hum rings in your ear, a harsh prod against your g-spot. "Goshhh Gaku, m' gonna-"

Breaking you off, he growls at the absurd clench of your walls around him.

"Fuck. Js' look at this fuckin' mess. Yer gonna cum, huh? Spray your juices all over my dick?" You're twisting your head to face him- you see his eyes obsessively fixating on your leaking cunt, essence coating you both in a thin glistering veil while swallowing up his hefty cock over and over, and-

In almost an instant, he lifts his right foot up, planting it firmly into the crinkling sheets before ramming his dick into you, bullying his way up to your cervix.

A black canvas coats your vision and a loud shriek punched out of your lungs signals your surprising orgasm, hitting like a slap to the face. It's intense - fierce, even.

And he? He was no better.

A deep, shuddering groan rumbled from his chest, his grip on your hips tightening as he fought to hold on, to savor the way your body clenched around him. His breaths were ragged, hot against your skin, his movements growing erratic—desperate, losing himself inside your comforting heat completely.

The way you're sucking him in and making his mind go feral should actually be illegal. Never has he ever lost control over himself like he did with you. He tries to desperately fight off every single thought flooding in, telling him to just hurl the phone into space so he can fuck you even harder. Deeper.

But, besides you, there's nothing he loves more than a challenge. He'll make it work. And even better, he'll get you on camera, getting your back completely blown-out in every sense of the word.

Your arms betray you as you fall onto your chest, arms nothing more than jelly. The raw force of his thrusts sends you flying forward, your head almost hitting the headboard, and you reach your arm back in an attempt to slow him down, to no avail.

His arm swings around your waist before your trembling legs threaten to give out on you. A firm grip, giving you no room to escape, only to take it.

“T-too much!” you gasped, but your voice was shaky, contradicting the way your fingers dug into his arms, as if you couldn’t decide whether to push him away or pull him closer.

“Too much?” he mused in a teasing tone. He leaned in, lips brushing your ear, the camera now recording his hand around your neck, presenting your tear-stained face on full display.

He presses his lips against your ears, teasing in a low whisper. “You can take it. Just one more for me, yeah?” His hand quickly retreats to your hips as he lifts himself up again, movement never stopping.

You barely register your second release crashing onto you, your cries muffled into the flattened, sweat-stained pillow. The camera captures your arched, glistering back, the deafening plap! plap! plap! Sounds of him slamming against you are prominent on the recording.

"Better see your juices allll over the camera."

You can't breathe, can't think. Everything is just too much and perfect at the same time, the overstimulating sensation making you go crazy - a senseless mess.

In a desperate attempt to slow him down, you reach your hand back against his hips, trying to slow him down only to be slapped away by him with a harsh smack followed by a disgruntled scoff.

"Move that fuckin' hand." His voice laced in venom as his balls tightened, so close to shooting ropes after ropes into your vast hole.

"Look at you," he rasped, his voice thick with something between awe and hunger. His free hand slid up your spine, fingers pressing into the arch of your back, grounding you in the intensity of the moment. "Nasty fuckin' pussy's taking me so well."

Your body trembled in his grasp, the aftershocks of pleasure pulsing through you in waves, leaving you breathless. Your limbs felt boneless, melting into the sheets as he drove himself deeper, chasing his own release.

A deep, guttural groan tore from his lips, his fingers digging into your skin as he lost himself in the heat of you. His movements grew frantic, every thrust more desperate than the last, as if he were trying to memorize the way you felt around him, the way your body responded to his.

With a final, shuddering thrust, his body tensed against yours, a sharp gasp escaping his lips as he gave in completely. His grip softened, his weight pressing into you in the most delicious way, grounding you both in the hazy afterglow.

His breath came in ragged pants, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he spilled fat globes of cum into you, every pulse of release dragging him deeper into euphoria.

He let out a shaky laugh, pressing his forehead against yours. "Hope you know," he murmured, his voice still husky. "I’m never deleting that."

Shin Asakura ★ Amateur!?

This might've been the best idea he's ever heard anyone think of- literally.

All it took for him was a quick look into your thoughts during your heated make-out after his long, exhausting day at the shop, and fuck, why didn't you just tell him?

You’re embarrassed he'd refuse? In what world could it be possible for him to refuse this - you?

He couldn’t be more grateful for his mind-reading abilities than now, when his room shifts into something straight out of a porn scene, quite literally.

Because this, you on top of him with your legs locking him in place, his light-colored hair sprawled out onto the soft cushion, is all he needed after a draining day.

The camera moves in the rhythm of your hips, carefully focusing onto his face down to his glistering abs, not failing to capture his rapid breathing, your escaping mewls and the lewd clap!, A sound that echoes each time your hips heave down against his.

"Why, fuckkk, didn't you just tell me?", His breathless voice snaps you out of your drunken daze. Your hand grasps back to his clenching thigh for stability, struggling to hold back the moans scratching your throat.

"Thought y-you wouldn't wan' to." He scoffs, hands planted to your hips, the former assassin's beastly strength overpowering you, snapping his hips up into your heat whilst his strong hands hold you in place.

"Me? Not wanting this? Girl puh-lease."

By just one look at the video, even an idiot can make out the unprofessional setting, muffled noises and wonky hold, but everyone starts off somewhere, right?

"S-stop rambling so much.“

With your eyes carefully examining the phone, making sure you get each lip-bite, each eye roll and each desperate whimper from your lover, your hips grind against his frantically.

Luscious. That's how you'd describe him right now.

"H-heh. I look luscious? 'M flattered." Unsteady breath betraying him, the bashful smile he flashes you makes your heart rapidly beat in your chest.

"I can hear ya, ya know?", he teases further, licking his dried lips in a swift motion before caging them in between his teeth.

Normally, you would've scolded him for infiltrating your thoughts just like that, but how could you be mad at your sweet boyfriend when he's letting you fulfill your long desired fantasies? Exactly. You couldn’t.

A slow smirk tugged at your lips as you speed up the gyrations of your hips, your free hand holding onto his chest for stability.

A strangled groan left his lips, hands instinctively flying to your hips as his eyes shot open. Fingers dig into your hips, harsh, and he can not only hear—no,  he can feel you coming close to your release, your talkative hole gushing and squeezing around him.

This must be heaven.

Here, he can die a happy man.

"Ya still with me?" You pull yourself back slightly, the camera following the teasing trail your fingers leave behind on his chest.

He lives for moments like these—your soft giggle, the teasing tone in your voice, your mesmerizing hips - everything.

Eyes glazed over with lust, he takes in your figure towering over him, dick twitching inside of you once he notices the sensual smirk.

God, he's gonna lose his sanity.

A shiver ran down your spine as his strong arm held you close, pressing you against the warmth of his body. His grip was firm yet possessive, his touch leaving a trail of heat along your skin.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice low and rough against your ear. “So perfect.”

Your breath hitched as he adjusted his hold, angling the lens just right, ensuring that every delicate shift of your body was recorded in exquisite detail. The way your fingers curled against his chest, the subtle tremor in your thighs—it was all for him, and he was utterly mesmerized.

His free hand skimmed up your back, fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns that sent sparks of warmth radiating beneath your skin. His movements were unrelenting yet controlled, each one drawing you deeper into the haze of pleasure, every brush of his touch making you feel adored, cherished.

His lips grazed the shell of your ear, his voice a mix of awe and restraint. "I want you to watch it later, see how good you look like this."

A soft whimper escaped you at his words, the promise in his tone sending a delicious shudder through your body. The thought of seeing yourself through his eyes, of witnessing the raw devotion in the way he held you, made your pulse quicken.

His pace never faltered, his movements fluid, precise. Every touch, every whispered praise, sent you spiraling further into the moment, lost in the intensity of his presence. The warmth of his breath against your skin, the way he held you as if you were something precious—it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

A breathless giggle rings in your ear before you feel one strong arm wrapping around your waist, snatching the device from your hand.

"My turn now, mkay?" You just nod mindlessly, your limp body falling on top of his. His pace is quick and brutal, pistoning his dick in and out of you faster than you can even register.

His arm extends over your back further down to the valley of your ass, where the camera perfectly captures the slick motion of his cock sliding in and out of your swollen hole.

Your orgasm hit you like a lightning strike, your whole body tensing up as pleasure consumes you whole, teeth digging into his shoulder at the overwhelming euphoria devouring you whole, body rocking with friction against his firm abs as his harsh hips smash up against you.

"Just like that, princess. Lay back and just look pretty for the camera."

You shivered at his words, the deep timbre of his voice sending a wave of heat down your spine. His grip was firm yet careful as he adjusted the camera’s angle, ensuring that every detail—the flush of your skin, the slow rise and fall of your chest—was captured just the way he wanted.

“Thereee we go,” he murmured, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your thigh, a contrast to the intensity in his gaze. “Absolutely perfect.”

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple before pulling back just enough to admire you. His eyes roamed over your form with unfiltered adoration, as if committing every inch of you to memory.

"Stay with me, baby," he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder, his voice laced with adoration. "I want to remember this. Every. single. second."

And with the soft glow of the camera capturing it all, you knew you would.

Shishiba ★ Wet 'n wild!

"Hold the damn camera straight."

His baritone voice rings in your ear, your shaky hand struggling to hold the camera in place. If only you could.

It's a shame, really. The unsteady lens only captures a fraction of Shishibas handsome face, his hair pushed back by your very own hand tangled in his golden strands, revealing his handsome features.

But you can't help it- not when his vicious mouth shares a french kiss with your pussy, not missing your clit as he circles his tongue around it, sucking the pulsating button hard, sharp eyes looking directly into the camera, his sly smirk barely noticeable against your heat.

"Poor girl. Can't do anything by herself." His snarky remark flies over your head as all you can focus on is his wet muscle digging into your cavity, exploring each triggering spot imaginable.

"In the end," an unoccupied hand comes up to grip your wrist, steadying your wobbly hand, a clear image of his face now visible. "I always have to help out, hm?" Mouth back on your cunt with predatory eyes now fixated on your face, he's making sure to catch every expression of yours.

Not one subtle twitch goes unnoticed by him while keeping up his assault on your cunt, fingers trailing down down down from your thigh to your hole, teasing pads drawing circles around it.

He grins against your heat as you eagerly clench down onto his barely inserted pointer and middle finger, his hungry mouth not wavering from your pulsating clit.

"Y-you're sooo mean, shi'."

"Me? Mean?", the soft coo in his voice is a jarring contrast to his assault on your poor cunt, his slender fingers massaging your soaked cunt in a teasing manner. "But I'm making you feel good, no?"

Biting back a snarky remark, you urge his face closer to your pussy, hips wiggling in his hold. "Urgh! Just-"

You cut yourself off with a stunned yelp, his hot tongue lapping at your puffy clit, and you swear you can feel him spelling some letters onto your cunt, the grip on your hips tightening.

"Please, shi." the pleasure overwhelms you as you hitch your breath, a tingling sensation electrifying your body. You buck your hips, forcing his mouth impossibly further into your core, fingers scraping the depth of your hole.

Even with him down in between your legs, you feel so utterly helpless, failing to lift your head to fully gaze upon him, repeatedly falling back into the sheets.

God, the video must be terribly filmed. You'll never hear the end of it.

Your sounds are drowned out by your thighs locking him firmly into place, legs thrown over his shoulder with your heels digging into his back.

Shishiba's luxuriated in your sweetness, hum in content with each spurt of essence you deliver right into his eager mouth. He doesn't hesitate to gulp down each and every bit of you, not leaving one place untouched with his greedy tongue.

Lost in the sauce, they say. Yes, he gets it now.

His eyes close in content, and he barely even notices how he grinds his angry throbbing cock against the sheets in a frenzy, the fat of your thigh gushing from between the gaps of his fingers from his strong hold.

Repeated sobs snap him back into reality. He almost moans at the sight of your tear-stained face, nose cutely scrunching up after your frustrated snivel, scrunched eyebrows firmly accommodating the frown on your face.

It's too much—his tongue french-kissing your cunt, his fingers curling up into your g-spot, and his intense stare keeping you captured. Your tummy sucks in, a fire licking up your spin and pooling heat low into your belly, a pressure coiling so tight that it feels like you might break.

Ah. Now he's hit the nail.

"I- hahhh! Please- I can't, Shi! "

You don't even know what you're begging for at this point once the tight coil in your stomach snaps, muscles tensing almost painfully as the back of your head digs into the bed, toes curling as you're drowning in the euphoric high with one last desperate cry of his name.

So cute.

Thumb rubbing tight circles on your thigh in a soothing manner, helping you calm down from your high. He can feel your hand trying to push him away from your heat as your other hand grasps for his wrist, still shamelessly smacking against your pussy, pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you.

Wait, something is off.

Lazy eyes examine your sprawled-out figure, noticing the phone lying flat on your stomach, capturing the plain ceiling, and he wonders if you even managed to film anything but your obscene sounds bouncing off the rooms walls.

Raising yourself up on your elbows, you give him an apologetic grin, heavy breathing in sync to his.

Huffing out a frustrated breath, he briefly closes his eyes as he rests his cheek against your thigh before licking his glistering lips in a lustful manner at your twitching clit protesting at the loss of stimulation.

"Well, can't be helped. Gotta do it all over again, doll."

Yoichi Nagumo ★ Press my buttons, baby!

"Nuh uhhh. Eyes up here, sweetie."

Followed by a light titter, he lifts your head up by the chin, urging your attention towards the mirror. Your eyes meet his in the reflection, not failing to catch the smug grin plastered on his face, the digital device just barely hiding his mahogany eyes.

This deeply engraved desire inside always got the better of him. Nagumo favors filming you both in the act, especially hoping for the footage to keep him sane during one of his many abroad jobs.

So this has become somewhat normal the night before he's off to a job the next morning, a lucky charm of sorts. Every time he lies on the foreign hotel bed, frustrated and exhausted, the only thing that can lighten his mood is you.

A Strong tattooed arm wraps around your waist, effortlessly lifting you up, up, up, your cunt desperately clasping around the crown of his cock, before slamming you back down. His girthy length stuffs your needy hole up each time your ass meets his pelvis - the loud gasp you let out surely prominent on the device recording the lewd scene.

"Eyes on the price, baby."

And you sure do.

Your eyes scan over what little you could make out through the dimly lit mirror, soaking in the black ink casing his skin. His fleshy biceps rubs against your skin with every slight movement, and his raven hair is disheveled.

His tall figure is towering over yours even while sitting down with your spread-out legs, exposing your stuffed pussy on display. His free hand twists your nipple as his mouth attacks your neck, planting deep red marks over it to his heart's content.

"Mhm, such a gorgeous girl."

He's eager to get a reaction out of you, trying to spice up the recording with a variety of gasps, thunderstruck expressions and cries of his name.

"And such a pretty fuckin' pussy."

Awestruck, your hand flies down towards his arms as he tries to sneak his pointer towards your puffy clit, his breath hot against your neck at one particular squeeze of your pussy.

His mind is running a thousand miles per hour with each slippery sound your sloppy hole generates, and each time he catches a glimpse of your fucked out face, his hips stutter.

Your cunt is gushing out those sweet, slick, glistening juices shimmering in the scope of the camera, and he swears he can hear your sweet essence flooding out, coating almost the entirety of his lower half.

God, he's gonna lose it.

How couldn't he? How can he possibly keep his cocky facade when you're caging his poor sensitive cock head in the depths of your tunnel? Exactly, there's no way.

"C'monnn, I know you can do it. Wanna watch this later and see my girl goin' all out."

Teasing fingers sneak towards your breast, twisting your neglected nipple to get a rise out of you, snickering at your desperate gasps.

There's no way for you to even try to bite back on his remarks when he's fucking you so good, not leaving one single spot on and in your body untouched, the only thing holding him back is his right hand holding the phone.

"Ya can do that for me, right?" The camera is wobbly in his hold as he grows impatient, clenched thighs snapping against your ass in vigor. Even with you on top of him, you are like putty in his hands, suffering from his powerful thrusts up against you, forcing his squirting head up to kiss your cervix.

Close. You're so damn close.

The crack in his voice goes unnoticed by you as you're eyes scrunch shut, fist clenching on his wrist at the overwhelming feeling of his prominent veins rubbing up against your walls. "M-mhmm!"

He's quick, gifting the side your fleshy thigh with a sharp strike of his hand. "Good fuckin' girl." The grip on the device becomes stiff, his balls clenching tightly, begging to pump you full of his seed.

Hiding his face in the crook of your neck he plasters it with open-mouthed kisses, his unsteady breathing causing goosebumps on your skin.

"Uh huhhh, just- hahhh, just a little longer, pretty." His bulky cock slides against your walls, the friction so good that it's almost unbearable.

The tight pressure building up inside your heat grows intense, causing your breath to quicken and your body to tremble, surely causing the camera in his hand to shake as you desperatly claw at his arms for stability.

"Gumoooo!" Your rough whimper rings his ears, fierce eyes snapping up to meet your face. "Shhhh I know, I know. Give it to me. Let me see."

His rushed voice echoes in excitement, eyes brightening as his gaze flickers between your face and the camera, making sure to capture you falling apart on top of him.

Your body jerks, back arching off his chest once he hits the bullseye inside of you. There go stars bursting behind your eyelids as the all-consuming pleasure crashes over you. Every syllable, every sound was pulled from your ragged, desperate bursts.

Trying to escape from the immense pleasure, your thighs clasp together only to be forced apart by his strong hand with an annoyed scoff. "Don't you dare. I gotta see you. All of you."

The hold he has on the phone is surprisingly steady—scarily, even. As if it were propped up somewhere, completely stone-solid, capturing every detail visible. From the saliva dripping down your chin all the way down to your stuffed pussy with his cum oozing out of-

Wait, when did he?-

"F-fuuuuuck!"

Exposed tattooed neck on full display as he throws his head back, his voice raising an octave higher, and if he wouldn't be having an intense orgasm right now, he might've been embarrassed at the ridiculous change in his tone. But not now.

Not when your pussy is struggling to hold onto his pulsating cock, strings of his cum dripping out of your hole, not when your shaking thighs lock around his calves in a desperate attempt to steady your slumping body, and especially not when your arm forces his head down to your level to tangle him in a nastiest, sloppiest kiss imaginable.

"Would you look at that mess", he's out of breath, gasping almost with his chest heaving, calming himself from his reached high, tightly holding your slumping body against his.

The camera is tossed behind you onto the soft sheets, his eyes taking in the sight before him in the mirror. With his absent mind, he spreads your puffy lips apart, your saturated heat packed full of his inches.

A breathless chuckle rushes against your neck, his chin resting on your shoulder and your eyes locking in the mirror; he's whispering in a low tone.

"Perfect."

©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Nothing I wouldn't do

pairing: handyman!chan x waitress!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, suggestive

synopsis: you and chan have been together for 3 years. he has never done anything to make you doubt his love for you, but recently you noticed him sneaking out at night...

wc: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, brief descriptions of lovemaking, crying

a/n: i'm tired and preparing a really long fic so i needed a little break, hope you enjoy🫶🏻

~masterlist

Another long shift finally finished, a dull ache appeared in your feet, coursing through your legs and climbing up to your lower back.

There was a headache behind your eyelids, a constant slow pounding that almost made your vision blurry.

You felt overwhelmed, discouraged and hungry.

Today was a particularly difficult day at the restaurant you work at, exhausting you to your limits and pushing you further.

Another reason your anxiety spiked up was because you got yelled at by your manager for something that wasn't entirely your fault and you had to bite your tongue and swallow your tears like you always do.

As you stepped out into the street, the dark night enveloping you, your tired legs started taking you on the familiar path to your home.

You were barely awake as you walked, the people passing you by looked blurry and unrecognizable, you couldn't even make out their faces.

You closed your eyes for a second, but that was one second too long as you tripped on the cracked sidewalk and fell down, scraping your hands and knees in the process.

"Miss, are you alright?" someone crouched down to help you.

"Yes, yes I'm fine." you said to the stranger, your tears blurring your vision of their face.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, thank you." you tried to be polite, hoping they would back off because now you wanted to get home even faster.

You continued walking, now in more pain as the wind picked up, grazing your bleeding skin.

Tears streamed down your cheeks quietly as the sky became darker.

You picked up your pace, realizing it will soon start raining.

Arriving to your building just in time, you ran inside and up the stairs to the 6th and last floor where you and your boyfriend lived.

He was working even later than you today, so he couldn't pick you up as his work lead him across town for the time being.

Rain started pouring outside just as you managed to close the door to your apartment, smacking it into place multiple times until it finally clicked.

You quickly ran to grab some buckets as the roof was flimsy, whenever it rained, your apartment would be drenched in water too unless you strategically placed the buckets so they could collect the raindrops.

After doing that, you finally caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and cringed.

You were still in your waitress unifrom, your hair now a mess, mascara streaks on your cheeks from crying, your hands and legs covered in bloody scratches.

You decided to quickly clean up so you can make dinner for Chan and yourself, preferably before he arrives home.

Swallowing more tears that threatened to come out, you made your way to the bathroom to clean up.

Luckily, you had hot water finally, the last three months you had to somehow survive without it once your water heater broke.

Sometimes you took double shifts at the restaurant, or just begged your boss to let you work without a day off.

Chan hated when you did that, hated seeing you so tired that you barely stood on your feet, your eyes sad and distant when you'd come home.

He begged you not to do it, promising he'd find a way to make more money, promising that he'll take care of you, telling you how you deserve better which you'd quickly shut down, not wanting him to feel guilty because it wasn't his fault.

It wasn't yours either, that's just how the cards were dealt and the two of you were trying your best to make something out of nothing.

Chan arrived just in time as you were finishing up with dinner, a smile gracing his tired face as soon as he saw you standing before the stove, dressed in his shirt.

You looked at him over your shoulder and though he could see the tiredness on your features, to him you looked more and more beautiful every single day.

"Hey, baby." you greeted him just as he wrapped his arms around you, your tired muscles instantly melting into his warmth and comfort.

You could fall asleep standing if you weren't so hungry.

"Love." he hummed against you, leaning over your shoulder to kiss the corner of your lips. "Smells nice." Chan nuzzled into your hair, taking a whiff of your shampoo.

"What, the food or me?" you chuckled, teasing him.

"Both." he giggled, gently moving you left and right as he tightened his hold on you.

"Go wash up then, it's almost done." you said, his hands coming up to touch yours.

That's when he noticed the scratches, panic overtaking him instantly as he gently grabbed your wrists.

"What happened?" he asked, a shaky breath escaping his lips.

"I fell. It's nothing." you quickly shook your head but he spun you around before you could even protest.

"Babe, your legs." Chan gasped.

"It's fine, really. It doesn't hurt too much." you averted your eyes.

His fingers came up to touch your chin as he made you look at him.

"I'll pick you up next time, I promise. Even if I have to speed across the city."

"Don't even think about that." you shivered, negative thoughts appearing in your mind instantly.

If you lost him, you wouldn't have anything.

"Okay, okay, I'll go wash up." he kissed you gently before skipping to the bathroom.

You served dinner on the small table, your plates clinking together as you tried to make it look somewhat presentable.

These little things always made a difference.

The fresh flowers on your windowsill, the pretty tablecloth you managed to find for a cheap price, a warm home cooked meal, your lover sitting across from you with a smile on his face.

The space was so cramped that your knees were pressed up together but in the case of the two of you, close could never be close enough.

You know Chan would gladly crawl right into your heart if you could keep him there, safe and sound.

He helped you wash the dishes, both of you talking about your day like you always do.

"That place is a shithole, y/n. You deserve so much better. Your manager is a fucking knucklehead. Do you want me to rough him up a little?" Chan asked, setting the clean plate aside.

You chuckled, smacking his bicep playfully as you peered up at him.

"Yes, get me fired. Save me from that hellhole." you joked with a dramatic hand to your forehead.

"You know you could always look at other places."

"Isn't it just the same thing? I don't have many qualifications anyways."

"I know but maybe a different restaurant has a better manager if nothing else." Chan offers, as you lean on the sink, wiping your hands.

"Or they could be even worse." you said as he stood before you, his arms landing on your waist.

Chan leaned in to kiss you, slowly and lovingly, your stomach doing all sorts of flips like you haven't been together for years, like you haven't done this before.

"How about we stop talking about work and start talking about more fun topics?" you wiggled your eyebrows at him as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers grazing his muscles, on display for you as he wore his tanktop.

"You're not in pain?" he motioned to your thighs and arms, still stinging albeit dulled now.

"I trust you to be gentle." you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him again, your hands holding his cheeks.

The two of you fell into a lovers embrace, tongues entwined, fingertips gently exploring, your cores connected in a heated movement that ended in pure bliss.

"I love you." you whispered as Chan scooped you up in his protective arms.

"I love you, darling." he kissed your temple as you drifted off to sleep.

-

You noticed it for the first time that same night.

You were so exhausted, jolted out of your deep sleep that you thought you were hallucinating when you saw Chan's figure walking towards the door and disappearing.

Your eyes fell to the clock next to your bed, reading 2am.

You wanted to wake up, ask him where he's going but you couldn't fight the sleep that was overtaking you.

The next morning, you forgot about it as you saw Chan making breakfast for the two of you, the day starting as normal as ever, a familiar routine taking place.

Your knees pressed together as you ate, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling up the space, the birds singing in front of the window as you chatted.

The next twenty minutes consisted of the two of you knocking against each other and the furniture as you tried to get ready for work.

The smiles on your faces never faltered as every second spent together was precious, even the mundane things like brushing your teeth together became romantic in your eyes.

Chan refused to stop kissing you in front of the door until you smacked his chest enough times to make him realize that you'll be late for work if he doesn't drive you right now.

It was a nice and fresh day outside and briefly you remembered the vision you had last night of Chan leaving but you chalked it up to a dream.

-

The dream however, kept repeating sporadically throughout the week.

You'd be half awake, watching your boyfriend's back as he'd gather his jacket and toolbox, only to leave quietly into the night.

Doubts started to fill your mind.

You knew you could just ask him where he was going, but the fact that he didn't share it beforehand, when the two of you usually shared your deepest and darkest secrets, created a painful feeling in your gut and chest.

It was more than suspicious, him sneaking out at night and the fear of losing him clouded your mind.

So one night as he left, waking you up accidentally in the process, you couldn't fall back asleep.

Tears filled up your eyes as you clutched onto his pillow that smelled just like him, comforting and yours.

What was he doing? You didn't want your mind to go to horrible places, like Chan meeting up with someone else because if that turned out to be true, your heart would shatter into pieces.

Pieces you'd never be able to pick up, never be able to love again.

So, you waited for him to come back home, making yourself some coffee so you don't fall asleep.

Chan came back home around 6am, just 30 minutes before you usually wake up.

"Oh, y/n. You're awake." he swallowed, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Yes, I've been awake for hours." you looked at him as he stood still by the door, nervously looking left and right.

"I- I just..."

"Where were you? Or better yet, where do you sneak off to every other night?" you tapped your fingers against the cup, your heart beating fast as you tried to sound and look calm, but your eyes were already filling up with tears.

"Y-you know?" Chan gulped, standing like a statue.

You scoffed, a tear sliding down your cheek.

You wiped it away angrily as you stood up and his eyes widened.

"I thought we didn't have any secrets between us. But you're obviously going behind my back. Just please, explain."

"Please don't be mad at me!" Chan quickly made his way to you but you took a step back from him, your backside colliding into the sink.

Hurt flashed across his eyes before realization hit him.

How this must look to you.

"Oh, you think..." he shook his head. "It's nothing like that. Actually, you weren't supposed to find out like this. I just wanted to make some extra money so I started repairing stuff as a 24/7 service. You know, for stores that work around the clock, anything that is opened during the night shift like casinos and clubs. If something happens in people's houses during the night. I figured since I have trouble sleeping, I'd do something productive."

You stared at him for a moment before letting out a laugh of disbelief, tears still staining your cheeks.

"You bastard!" you smacked his chest, but there was a smile on your face which let Chan know you weren't that mad at him.

"Why didn't you just tell me that? Do you know how much you scared me?" you smacked his chest once again for good measure before he grabbed your hands gently, bringing them up to your lips and kissing your knuckles.

"I'm sorry, I will never keep something from you again. It's just that it was supposed to be a surprise."

"What surprise?" your brows furrowed as Chan sighed, turning around to rummage through his jacket that he'd left on the chair immediately.

You peered at his hands, your eyes widening and a gasp escaping your lips as he produced a little velvet box out of his pocket.

"Is that-" you stuttered, fresh tears pricking your eyes.

"Mhm." he nodded. "But I wanted us to have this romantic dinner and-"

"This is romantic enough." you stopped him, your voice eager.

Chan chuckled and then smirked.

"Are you sure you want me to propose all greasy in the middle of the kitchen at 6am?"

"I'm sure." you giggled, your body heating up with excitement.

"I was gonna prepare a speech." he muttered before getting down on one knee.

"Y/n, even though I don't have much, what I do have I want to share with you. And that is all my love and my complete and utter devotion that I want to share with you for the rest of my life. So will you marry me?" Chan looked up at you hopefully as he opened up the little box, revealing a beautiful ring inside it.

"Yes!" you cried, quickly wrapping your arms around him as you stumbled forwards into his embrace, making him giggle happily.

You held each other tightly for some time, just reveling in the moment of your hearts beating against one another in unison.

As you pulled away, Chan slid the ring on your finger as your heart skipped a beat.

"Never scare me like that again." you said, looking up at him.

"I'm sorry, my love. I promise I won't."

Your lips crashed together in a sweet and passionate kiss, your whole body tingling with so many feelings and one thought in your head.

Whatever life throws at you, as long as you come home to each other at the end of the day, everything will be just fine.

-

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Priest Miguel O'Hara x Incubus reader. I had this idea for two years, only now writing it. The reader is ftm! (cunt, pussy, and clit are used in this! Turn away from this!)

Imagine priest Miguel finishing a sermon, preaching the words of God to the attendees as he stood at the altar, closing the Bible with a soft thud. The light shining on him from the morning sun made him look holy and godly. His black vestments covered his muscular body, underneath which would make every woman in the vicinity want him, but he doesn't dwell on or engage in those desires as they are impure and go against God's vision. He watched everyone leaving their pews, some coming up to chat before leaving, then he saw you.

Imagine you are walking up to the altar, making sure everyone is gone. Your boots clicking along the floor, deliberate and sensual. "Is there something you need, child?" (or whatever the priest says.) Miguel says as he sees your body coming into view, his mouth goes dry. You were handsome, almost divine. Miguel then smelled something strange in the air, not the usual incense; it was sweet, richer, and dizzying. Miguel felt something come over him, but he quelled it, for now.

"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned," you said, your voice soft as silk and warm blankets. A smirk planted on your face as you see the effects the aphrodisiacs were having on Miguel. It's been a long time since you last feasted, priests and married men were your main options, so much pent-up desire and needs that they have to bury for the sake of being deemed worthy for the pearly gates, you didn't understand that. You never will, but you didn't care. Sex is amazing.

Imagine priest Miguel listening to your confession, it was the most sinful confession he has ever heard. You confessed to having sex with a variety of married men and indulging in voyeuristic tendencies. Yet, he continued listening. The smell was getting stronger, his mind was becoming cloudy, and his body was boiling hot. Miguel's breathing got heavier as his large cock was aching in his pants, throbbing and leaking. Something primal and darker was clawing at him as the holy facade was cracking from the pressure. When Miguel looked again, the young man had horns, wings, and a tail.

"You're a demon..." Miguel mutters, attempting to hold himself back and not indulge in sin, with an incubus no less. Having sex in God's holy temple was blasphemy. Miguel mutters scriptures and pleas to God, begging for forgiveness. He was unaware of you kneeling before him, tugging at his robe until he felt your warm fingers grabbing his cock.

"My, My... already leaking and all of this is for me?" you purred, grinning from hearing Miguel's strangled groans and moans. This priest's cock was bigger and thicker than any other you've had. Your cunt leaked, drenching your underwear with the sticky, sweet fluid. Miguel snapped out of his babbling when he felt your warm, hungry mouth wrapping around his cock. His groans echoed in the quiet church, he fell back against the altar as you deepthroated him, gripping it for support. Miguel bit down on his hand as you worshipped his cock, like it was God. Your tongue teasing his cockhead, slit, and undersides, one of your hands fondling his balls.

"You taste divine, Father." That was the last straw for Miguel. He gave in to the temptation.

Imagine priest Miguel yanking your head off his cock and perches you against the altar. He ripped your underwear off, slapping his throbbing cock against your soaked pussy, gathering the slick and smearing all over his cock. Your dominant and assertive attitude was replaced with submissiveness as felt Miguel's cock teasing your swollen clit, purposely stimulating it. Your poor little hole fluttered around nothing, trying to capture the cockhead, so much slick was gushing out.

"F-fuck..." The word is foreign to Miguel as he rarely curses. His cock was sheathed in your warm, tight, and wet cunt, every inch of his cock was squeezed and massage by your warm insides, slick coating his cock, his heavy balls resting against your ass. Your cunt was hungry as it clenched around his cock every time he attempts to pull out, it didn't Miguel to pull out. Miguel was in pure heaven or hell. Was this how sex felt? It felt amazing, specifically gay sex! His cock being massaged and drenched in slick.

"This is what you've been missing out on, Father. Feel my cunt? It wants you, wants your sin, seed."

Imagine priest Miguel fucking you against the altar, his large, worn hands gripping your hips as he fucked your demon pussy. Moans and other debaucheries filled the silent church: wet skin slapping, pussy squelching, and strangled moans. You could feel Miguel's cock stretching your entrance as his cock dug you out. Your arms locked around Miguel's shoulder, back arching. Your mind was cloudy, but you could feel the energy flooding your body; you weren't going to completely drain Miguel.

"M-Miguel-- oh God... fuck." you cried, causing Miguel to fuck you harder. How dare you, a slutty demon, use God's name, shouldn't be allow to leave your mouth. Miguel groans, his hips stuttering as his thrusts become slow but harder.

"S-so deep... s-so full! Yes, yes! Fill me, Father~ wanna feel it inside me~ breed your sins into me~" you babbled greedily sucking the priest's cock deeper. You could feel the tip ramming against your second entrance, you rubbed your swollen clit in rhythm with Miguel's thrusts. Your body quivered from the sensation as it came around Miguel's thrusting cock, clamping around the piece of meat, milking it of its thick, virile load.

That didn't happen; instead, Miguel pulled out in tight and came all over your stomach. His eyes fluttered shut as his cock pulses, spurting more cum. You were impressed: no man has managed to do this, it seems like Miguel has regained a semblance of control.

Oh yeah, you were definitely coming back for seconds

Author's note: I haven't proofread this, and hopefully it sounds good! Kinda rushed tbh and was delirious due to lack of sleep.

Taglist: @hiddens-eden @spnfanboy777 @buckyshusband0 @zamfam4272 @raspberryyuuki @maxxioislost @furiousflowercreation @ghostking4m @sluttyhusband @wolf-knights @your-cow-boy @mack-thedork @starboye @boypied @sleep-0-deprived @cronasluvr

(The inspiration for this Drabble: plz don’t be mean tumblr and flag this 🙏🏾)

[calebverse]

caleb loves your scent. 

there’s just something so fresh, so sweet, and so you that got him addicted to it. he loves holding you close, so close, that he can pick up the smell of your skin and body wash. he would give you forehead kisses, taking the chance to place his nose by the crown of your hair for a whiff of your shampoo. the smell of your clothes helps him know you’re around him without even seeing you yet. he never misses the chance to tell you that you smelled good, amongst all the other praises he would say. and even when you would try to push him away when you say you’re all sweaty, he would still playfully tackle you just to catch your scent before reluctantly letting you go because you kept claiming you needed a shower. 

he is all-familiar to your fragrance, so imagine his surprise when he finds you after you got home from your work. 

he greets you with a hug, and then catches a new but oddly familiar scent on you. 

caleb lets loose of the hug but kept you in his arms. “new perfume, pipsqueak?” it smelled like leather with a hint of mint. it was thick, a complete opposite to the perfume you would usually go for. in a split second, he recognizes that it smelled like men’s perfume.

the thought of being you being close to another man to the point that whatever his perfume was rubbed off on you irked him. his jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. 

you, however, were completely oblivious to the storm brewing in caleb's mind. you just smiled sheepishly. “it's yours, silly.”

“i was running late to work this morning, had to get dressed and put on my makeup quick. and then, conveniently,” you said with a roll of your eyes, “i found out that my perfume just ran out. can't get even a few sprays in anymore. but i saw your cologne, and i didn’t want to walk out without having anything on me. i only sprayed a little bit. one spray behind each ear, each wrist, and two sprays under my shirt.” 

caleb let out a breath he was holding. thank god it was his cologne and not anyone else’s. how was he not able to recognize it in the first whiff? 

and then it was as if a switch was flipped inside of caleb. you smell like him. you walked around, went about your day, carrying his scent. unconsciously carrying a claim he had on you. unknowingly letting people know that you were his, that a piece of him was on you. he wondered if you knew. he wondered if people asked about it. how did you answer? did you tell them it was his scent all over you?

while his favorite scent will always be yours, this came a close second. it all appeared so… territorial. and it pleased even the darker sides of his mind. suddenly, the idea of holding you close to him you start smelling like him, or the vision of him leaning in, kissing every part of your skin with the scent of his cologne was appealing.

“i see,” he said, clearing his throat. his hands made their way to your waist, and he tightened his grip three times. “don't worry pipsqueak, you can use it until you buy another bottle of perfume.”

“really?” you chuckled. “to be fair, i might have to research the brand and see if they have anything i could try. your cologne is great because it lasted the whole day. it's like i have you with me all the time.”

the statement was said in a tone that was cheery and playful, but the thought of it was so intimate in caleb’s mind. he couldn’t help but kiss your lips in short, consecutive pecks, eliciting a giggle from you. then he let his head rest on your neck, his nose pressed to the corner where your ear meets your jaw. 

“you smell nice.” caleb mumbled into your skin. 

“i smell like you.”

“exactly.” he replied. “and i don’t mind one bit.”

a/n: aaaaa it's been a while since i wrote an actual fic (this is a drabble to be honest) but this is me dipping slowly into it again! i've recently got hooked into the world of love and deepspace and we have this 6'2 colonel mf to blame. no complaints though.

anyways, this was slightly inspired by a real life experience and my first thought was 'damn that sounds like something caleb would do.' so here it is!

[transformhim]

Break Out

"Psst! Hey! Hey, Red!"

I tossed my ginger curls out of my face, looking up at the fellow detainee across from me. ‘Red...’ such a dumb fuckin’ line, everyone drops it thinking they’re the cleverest person in the room. I have red hair, hardy har, so people call me Red, tee hee, give me a break.

He’s short, maybe a hair over 5’6”, but a fireplug of a man. Sure, darker blonde, but a fireplug. Even in his baggy clothes, I could tell that he was pretty beefy, like in a got a little too into juicing after high school kind of way.

“What’ll it be, Yellow…” I mumbled back.

He shoots me a weird look. I mime at my hair. He narrows his eyes and shakes away the confusion.

"Give me 50 pounds!"

I shot him an even weirder look than he gave me, and he just gestured back and forth to me and himself excitedly, with both of his wrists tied together with the thick, industry standard zip ties that the pigs always carry around by the dozen at protests.

“What?”

“Jss—Fuckin’ give me 50! I’ll get us outta here!”

“… Pounds.”

“Yeah, c’mon!”

I scoffed, “You can eat 50 lbs of shit.”

“Dude, just—ARGH, just say it, man! Trust me! You can spare it, you’re a big dude! Look, I promise I’ll get us out of here.”

He wasn’t wrong, I probably weighed the same as him. Sure, on a frame easily half a hoot taller than him, but I’ve paid my dues at the alter of vain size building. Anything to at least minimize the amount of ginger jokes I had to endure in school. Thanks a lot, South Park… Wait, 50 lbs of…?

“50 lbs of what then?”

“You, dude! Muscle, size! C’mon dude, we gotta be quick!”

Great, stuck in holding, again, with another horny tweaker, again. It’s like I’m a magnet for this type of shit.

“You want 50 lbs of muscle from me, huh? What, you’re gonna Superman your way outta here?”

“W—I mean, kinda,” he chuckled and shrugged as I rolled my eyes with a grin. I had to admit, Yellow was charming, in a dorky, too much adrenaline kind of way. “And ‘our’ way outta here, man!… C’mon, I’ll give it right back! Trust me, like, we were at the same protest, we’re already on the same team?”

I chuckled behind my grin, “Even you gotta admit that turned into a little more than a protest.”

He shrugged again behind a smirk, “No justice, no peace.”

I outwardly laughed this time. I scratched my knee with my wrists bound together, feeling my forearm graze against the slight chub I was forming. This guy’s clearly got a few screws loose but his charisma was undeniable. Was it because he was built to exactly my type? Whatever, may as well play along, we were likely going to be spending the next few hours together in holding.

He caught me studying him, and opened his palms upwards and raised his eyebrows in a game show host imitation.

I snorted, “Fine, Yellow. You can have 50 lbs of my muscle. Now, how a—!”

My breath caught in my throat and my jaw shot open as I sucked a whooping gasp, my fists clenching and my shoulders tensing up, my abs knotted up and my hips thrusted forward like I was yanked by lasso.

The moment the words left my mouth, I was instantly, fully, throbbingly rock hard. My dick was pulling like an iron rod towards him, making my sweats tent in a way I didn’t know the fabric was capable of handling. In my dizzy, star-spangled vision, I could see the same was true for Yellow. He was similarly tensed and flexed, but smiling widely and dumbly with droopy orgasmic eyes and seemed to be experiencing it much more relaxed way than I was.

He panted quietly, “Don’t worry, dude, it’s just the connection being made, you’re gonna love th—HOOOOOO!!”

It must have hit him the same moment it hit me—it felt like a massive, pillowy, slobbering set of lips smooched down onto my mushroom head, tightly forced itself down the length of my shaft, and began thirstily sucking me off! I continued with my shuddering gasps as he gritted his teeth and hissed with his eyes pinched shut, shushing me as he did, so as to… what? Not alert the pigs making calls and typing up reports? I felt like I was going zero to ten in seconds, on the very verge of busting!

Then as I was gonna bust, the wildest sensation imaginable hit me. It felt like thick, oozing, orgasmic energy like mound after mound of warm, lubricated meat was being sucked directly out of my shaft. I looked down at the throbbing tent in my sweats to get an eye of what was happening, but I would only see my mushroom head flaring over and over again, catching an eye of Yellow’s doing the same through the fabric of his pants.

As the energy shot out of my shaft towards him, I could feel what could only be described as levitating. It felt like my body was becoming lighter and lighter and lighter, with pulse after orgasmic pulse. I rolled my eyes back with lustful, dumb laughter, feeling like I could float away. With each pulse, I could feel my clothes breathing gusts of air out around my neck, arms, waist, and feet as they settled loosely on my smaller frame. As I felt my height shrink considerably, I looked down with a dumb giggle as I watched my cock throb, then thin, throb, then shorten, throb, throb, throb, then—

I pinched my eyes shut and yelped involuntarily as finally came. And came. Shit, and came some more! I swear to god I’d never had an orgasm last as long as it did. Plus, judging by the warm soupy feeling in my boxer briefs, I shot more than I think I ever had!

Then—and at this point I knew I had to be going insane—because then? Yellow was… changing.

He kept his breaths heavy but his volume low as I watched his entire body pulse, and pulse. With each consecutive pulse, his stature stretched taller, his frame stretch wider, and—

“Hhuurrrrrnnnnngg…” he arched his back with a gurgling, euphoric growl, clearly also involuntary, since he’d been such a nag about our volume, as he continued to pulse like a giant heart, only this time his muscles appeared to be joining in on the action. They swelled thicker and broader under his increasingly tightening clothes, the ones that were seconds ago basically hanging on him like a tent, making them audibly stretch and become deliciously tighter. I heard the leather of his boots creak and I watched as they appeared to inflate from within as his thighs and claves rounded with size. He gurgled again as his torso, chest, and abs widened and grew and his throat thickened, making each button down his henley pop, pop… pop pop pop down to reveal his chiseled cleavage.

He seemed to hurry now, his breath quickening, as he rushed his bound hands down to his buckle. As he did, his job was made more difficult by his expanding, bulging arms, each snaking with angry chords of veiny muscle, as he frantically undid his belt. He threw his too-tight zipper down, quickly dug in, and liberated his throbbing boyfriend cock. Ah, so he clearly knew what was coming—the sexy fucker could’ve at least warned me.

“MMMPFF, MMPF, MMMNuuhh…” he lightly moaned behind tight lips as I watched his dick bloom outwards and upwards, encouraged by his bucking hips, lifting higher and thicker into the air like a flower searching for sun, until he—! He gasped in a quick breath as he leaned over, making his bench groan under his new weight, as he erupted thick squirting volleys of cum onto the floor adjacent to us.

Splat, splat, splat, splat, splat… Splat. I watched each load shoot out of him in disbelief. Both obviously at the quantity and also what had just been shared—or exchanged—between us in… Well shit, now that the haze from my orgasm was clearing, it couldn’t have been more than 10 seconds since those last words left my lips to now! Now we were both left in a panting fog, the room saturated with our stink, as he finally started to tuck away his fresh donkey dick.

He glanced over at the splatters on the floor he’d made, “Sorry about that,” he muttered, struggling to zip up his pants. “Didn’t want to… y’know, soak my shorts.” He nodded at my sweats—not overtly soaked themselves but threatening to start showing signs, if my overflowing briefs were any indication—and laughed a bit, wincing as he slowly forced his zipper up, doubtlessly strangling his now-sizable package.

I huffed out a laugh along with him, “What—..” I swallowed dryly, hearing the cracks in my voice. “What did you d—?”

“No time, we gotta bounce,” he grinned with a rich, cocky baritone.

He stood up. And up, and up, towering over his former stature. Yellow’s face pinched with effort as I watched his arms flex angrily.

“RRRNNnngg,” Yellow grunted with an animalistic huff. I swear I could hear his guns tightening like rope! With a sharp “NTCCHuuuh…” and an accompanying defeated *SNIP!* the industrial strength zip tie broke like it was made of cheap plastic. He looked down at where it’d landed and glanced back up at me with another cocky grin.

“Well shit,” I remarked with a chuckle, panting out the last of my exhaustion from my sudden transformation. He popped his firm pecs with that cocky grin as he kneeled towards me.

He sniffed as he leaned in, “Woof! You really made a mess didn’t you?” He grinned up at me, slipping a finger then two under my zip ties. I must’ve blushed a little at the comment, because he chuckled back up at me, “No sweat Red,” He tilted his head back to the creamy puddle on the floor. We both huffed a laugh.

My “cuffs” had loosened from the transformation quite a bit. Still not enough to slip out of, but enough for him to slip two of his thick fingers through. He grunted again and pulled until mine snapped too. He tossed mine to the floor with his and held out a hand to help me up from the bench. I accepted and he lifted me up, making me bounce on me feet a little once

I felt… Hell, I looked pretty sick actually! Had a little bit of the look I remember when I was going straight into undergrad! Minus the nubbier but wickedly more sensitive hog I was now sporting. Used to get laid constantly back then, at least way more than now. But now with gig jobs, keeping a steady gym schedule, taking care of my siblings for my deadbeat folks… Who’s got the time? But… fuck! Yellow had really worked his magic… on both of us!

“You just gonna stare?” He snapped me out of it, “Or should we get out of here?”

“Y-you lead, I guess,” holding up my sweats and briefs (being sure to clutch the briefs tightly so none of my spunk dribbled out, couldn’t handle more embarrassment) the with one hand.

He approached the door to our holding room, grateful that it was some cheap office door with a shitty lock, and quickly but forcefully pushed outwards with his boulder-like shoulders. He and I both huffed out a satisfied laugh as it gave with little of his effort, uttering only a small *crack* as the lock gave up its measly effort inside and swung open.

We hurried it to the end of the long corridor of other holding rooms until it T-intersected with another hallway, and we looked both ways. On one end of the connecting hallway, we could hear the click-clacking of keyboards, the cacophony of calls coming through too-old landlines, and the hubbub of the chatter coming from the station’s staff. On the other end, a fire exit door, with the trademark red illuminated EXIT sign over it with the machinery connected to the door that would set off the alarm once the door was opened.

He leaned in to whisper to me, “We’re gonna have to split up once that alarm goes off. You know Francisco’s?”

“The diner?” I replied back. Good old Francisco’s Diner, always there late at night when you need a ton of carbs after a night of binging. “Waaay too well, yeah I know it.”

“Let’s meet up there. 7 o’clock? Gives you about an hour to get more, uh, decent?” He chuckled back at me.

“Fuck you,” I laughed back, “Ain’t my fault I need to clean up.”

“HEY! What the hell you think you’re doing?!”

We both looked down the other end of the hall, where some fatass pig was moving towards us. Both of our hearts jumped.

“Remember, 7 o’clock, Francisco’s!” Yellow grabbed onto me and shoved me in the direction of the door. I stumbled forwards, making my way to the fire exit, looking back behind me to see Yellow give the pig a linebacker’s shove, forcing him to the floor and knocking the wind out of him, then turning to sprint the way I was going.

I pushed out of the fire exit door, momentarily blinded by the afternoon light and deafened by the accompanying ring of the alarm and bolting to the right, out of the parking lot. I only looked back once to see Yellow sprinting out of the building too, laughing out loud as he ran away from the three cops uselessly chasing after him, tripping over themselves. Thankfully with all of their attention on him, the last thing I saw before I turned the corner was him effortlessly hopping the stone fence on the other side of the parking lot.

I continued running—gliding honestly, the lighter size feeling totally abnormal but thrilling—block after block after block, until I made it to the courtyard of my building. What spunk hadn’t dried against my crotch had spilled out of my briefs and down the leg of my sweats creating a sticky, cool sensation. I checked the time on the ornate courtyard clock. 5:45. Still plenty of time to get cleaned up!

Cleaned up, plus a little exploration. Damn, I felt the same way looked: svelte and sexy as hell. My nubby cock was already greedily throbbing before I unlocked my apartment door.

———

The bell hanging above the door of Francisco’s Diner jingled as I walked in (a fashionable 20 minutes late—what the hell, I got, uhh, distracted). Of the things that would’ve fit me in my closet, I settled on a skate brand tank top I hadn’t worn since college and a pair of gym shorts, drawstring tied extra tight. All of it still hung off me, I must’ve looked emaciated.

“Ay, Red!” Yellow waved over at me from one of the booths along the window. He sported an undershirt and vest along with his own pair of gym shorts, except all of his looked way too tight, compared to my way too loose apparel. What a pair we made!

I slid into the booth, grinning and sighing, “Sorry I’m late, I—”

“Had to give it all a test run, huh?” He chuckled into his coffee mug. I shrugged with a grin. “Don’t sweat it! Meee too, man, me too. I only got here like 5 minutes ago.”

“That was crazy how you got us out of there, man. Any trouble?”

“None! Actually, once I was over the fence around the parking lot, they’d basically given up. You?”

“Not at all. Thankfully all of their attention was on you!”

“Not surprised! Can you imagine what a prize it would be for them if they caught all this? I’m lookin’ like fuckin Superman now.”

He punctuated his cocky brag with a tight flex of his guns, bursting with both his and my combined strength.

“Gotta say,” I shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee he’d ordered me. “Looks fucking good on you, dude.”

“Hey, yeah?” He raised an eyebrow with a grin, bouncing his pecs at me. “You’re looking pretty good yourself there, Red.”

We sat for a few moments sipping our mugs, the obvious horny mist between us simmering and the unspoken recognition of each of our hard-ons adding to our admiration of one another’s bodies. I had to admit, Yellow had one me over. Whether it was because of his charm, his solidarity, his magic, or his bod, the short time we’d come to know each other had caused some kind of spark to ignite.

At the moment I was going to quietly ask that we go somewhere more private, he piped up, stretching and arms and back behind him against the booth.

“Well, a promise is a promise. You ready to get your size back?”

I smiled, “That would be great... Wait, here??” I remembered the mess we made at the station. Surely a mom and pop diner like Francisco’s wouldn’t appreciate a display like that in their establishment.

“I think the bathroom might be a better option. After you,” he gestured his arm out of the booth.

I sauntered over to the bathroom located behind the counter of Francisco’s open kitchen, looking back to see if Yellow was following. He’d left a $10 on the table for our coffees plus a generous tip for the staff and was already close behind me. I opened the door to the single use bathroom, while he held the door, slapping my ass inside as we both chuckled.

I heard him click the lock of the door as I turned around, “So how are we gonna d—”

Yellow had me pinned against the sink before I could finish my question, his hard body pressed against me as his lips and tongue danced against mine, pausing only to shuck his vest off with his undershirt, as I lost my tank top. We grinded our bodies together, feeling our hard tools poking into each other’s hips as we made quick work of liberating them from our shorts. Once we were both completely of our clothes, we resumed our intense make out, each of our hands ravenously feeling up the others, gripping firm mounds of muscle here, sliding fingers down cascading backs there…

“I should thank you properly for helping us both out,” Yellow panted.

He forced me down onto the toilet seat by my shoulders, then slid his hands down my torso, then gingerly tugged at my raging nubby boner. I could see that his was a throbbing, eager railroad spike as he knelt down in front of me and leaned in to swirl his tongue around my mushroom head.

“Fucking hell, Yellow, where you been all my life?” I panted with an exhilarated gasp, running my hands through his stiff dirty blonde hair, feeling his head bob up and down on me.

He released me with a sucking *pop* and grinned up at me, “I’m Doug, by the way. Douglas, but call me Doug.” He continued his greedy assault on my cock while I gasped a few more orgasmic breaths.

“C-Curtis. I’m Curtis,” we both laughed, having only just exchanged names while his mouth was around my dick. His deep laughter reverberated splendidly inside of his mouth against my leaking glans, stuffing his mouth with my pre, without a doubt.

Releasing me once more, he looked up at me. “Hey?”

“Yeah what’s up?”

“You can have your 50 pounds back, Curtis,” he grinned then quickly buried his face back into my crotch.

It happened just as quickly and just as intensely as it did the first time. I felt the same electrifying jolt of energy shoot through me, making me groan and arch my back as I felt waves of pleasure crash into me. Now fully nude, I could see the transformation affect both of us with delicious clarity. I watched my perspective grow taller and taller, seeing and feeling my legs, arms, and torso stretch back to their normal size. “Fuuuuck yeeeeaaah,” I couldn’t help but moan as I watched my arms, legs, thighs, pecs, feet, hands, abs, fucking everywhere, throb and swell with dull, increasing pressure, flexing everything as my size returned to me. Then, feeling my balls pulse and sag, I dropped my hands to his head, gripping fistfuls of his hair, as I animalistically bucked into his mouth, feeling my meat throb, lengthen, throb, thicken, throb, lengthen, throb, thicken, deeper and deeper and deeper into Doug’s throat. He gripped my rounded, swelling ass as I gripped his head, finally feeling the dam burst as I flooded his guts with another massive serving of my seed, only causing him to gag just a few times, but still swallowing it all like a champ.

Both of us gasping with exhaustion, he stood up, his cock appearing to do some king of hiccuping motion as it shrank back. He was still shrinking in intermittent spurts, his arms deflating back to their respectable size, his pecs receding back to their typically sized mounds, his arms and legs dwindling back to their normality as he shook them out. His stature had diminished back to his short king height, and I could tell my the quickening of his cock’s hiccuping motions that the last part was coming. I reached out with both hands to tug his shrinking tool and massage his balls, hearing him whine/moan as his hips bucked with my motions. Very soon after, he erupted several copious volleys at me, splattering against my arms, my pecs, and my upper chest.

He collapsed onto me with exhaustion, his thick thighs and massive ass resting on top of my thighs, both of us panting in the orgasmic fog we’d created as he leaned his smaller self against my larger. His seed squished between our heaving, panting chests as he and I wrapped arms around each other to make out again.

Doug was unlike anyone I’d ever been with… Shit, by a long shot. And it’s crazy how much, though unspoken, he and I were both into this whole size play thing. Hell, I could spend way more time yo-yo’ing with him, seeing how big we could really make him. Creating a gym schedule with him so we could both add more mass to ourselves and go even crazier with this gift of his. Tricking assholes to loan him some of their size so he could turnaround and dump it all into me.

As we made out more in the bathroom of Francisco’s Diner, the whole room reeking of our sex and humid with our effort, I knew that our unlikely but fortuitous relationship was only just beginning.

[stealingpotatoes]

POTES SEMI-LIVEBLOGS KOTOR!

ive been writing my thoughts in the notes app but due to popular demand (one person asked for it) i'm posting my liveblogging DO NOT SAY/TAG/COMMENT SPOILERS PLEASE i read tags

warning im a yapper, im 10 hours in and theres a lot already (separated into sessions):

SESSION 1

whos this clown i thought i would be playing as revan

ive been too spoiled by dragon age origins this character creator sucks ass

only human???? ): fr?? ill just imagine her different in my brain or some shit

my life is being mansplained to me. is this bad writing or do i have amnesiacs

hes meta now??? hes talking abt the screen controls?????

omg a jedi and an evil jediii

omg their asses suckedddd they both died immediately

i <3 bringing a sword to a gun fight

WHY R THERE SO MANY SITH WHERE IS TJE RULE OF TWO

i clicked a workbench and it said lightsaber so either i get a lightsaber or i get a jedi friend whose lightsaber i can steal if im careful

I assume u play as revan in kotor2 so im gonna buy that now so i can play it when im done playing w this clown

i got light side points im getting a good grade in game morality which is something both normal to want and possible to achieve

everyone keeps saying revan is dead but thats my friend revan from tumblr hes clearly alive. or they???

my characters ass is distractingly present onscreen

huge fan of the way everyone collapsed drunk what the FUCK was in that wine

ok these sith ppl might be the bad guys but their armour is DRIPPY AS FUCK

ideologically i dont agree w the sith but they kinda went off w the fits

googling how to become a sith without being evil cause they have Drip

SESSION 2

i paid £1.19 to see revan he better show up in this game at some point

all these sith n i still cant find one revan….. stop faking ur death rn come out n talk to me babygirl this isnt like u….

why can i be light/dark side if im not a jedi. give me a laser sword

maybe this jedi gyal will know where revan is faking his death. or give me a fuckin lightsaber PLEASEEE

was just thinking 'does this game have romance' and then carth called me beautiful. i dont think im gonna romance anyone until i get this amnesia sorted

why is carth questioning me so much abt the crash im pretty sure i have amnesia

why tf did the jedi lady have me transferred to this ship are we in lesbians with each other???

carth's not wrong it is suspicious but i lowkey have amnesia so i coulda done that i coulda not

a lot of clone wars voice actors in this. was lucasfilm so broke in the 2000s that they could only afford the same 3 VAs for every project

mission is 14??????? we need to get my girl back in school

SESH 3

tale as old as time i fucking suck at racing games

ok i didnt realise you had to mash click i won

REVAN!!! REVAN!!!!!!!!!

why am i dreaming abt revan tho. real as hell but ?????

lmao cringe revan getting blown up. i thought the jedi beat rev-meister in a fight but no. accident

"such visions are often a sign of force sensitivity" COOL YAY GIVE ME A LIGHTSABER

BASTILLE LOST HER FUCKING LIGHTSABER??

CARTH IS RIGHT THATS LIKE DAY ONE JEDI SHIT. ok i still love her even tho shes a bit of a bitch and also doesnt have a saber

if we find a lightsaber im taking it first tho

whys carth getting weird abt me being weird that he doesnt trust me. i just wanna be friends mate

SESH IV: A NEW HOPE

'i mean no disrespect, but perhaps one of the male slaves could serve you better' i went in here to start a slave revolution and instead got called a lesbo

LMAO THERES A SPICE LAB???? WALTER WHITE WHERE ARE YOU

thats insaneee they blew up BILLIONS of people to get to one jedi?????? these sith arent fucking around theyre scary

UM THIS IS CRAZY GRAPHICS THE LIGHTING IS CLEARER/DARKER WHEN I COVER THE SUN W THE SHIP EDGE?? 2003 IS THE YEAR OF THE FUTURE

someone just called me padawan i kinda assumed i was in my late 20s do i just have baby vibes

all the jedi in the movies are so chill but every kotor jedi i've met so far has been a bit of a bitch

YO THEY HAVE A YODA!!! its not THE yoda but

cool so these guys are just the regional managers at best. your asses are not the council

why can everyone smell my force juju so strong

THATS STRAIGHT UP YODA'S CLONE WARS VA

why does fake yoda not blink both eyes at the same time. im calling him master tortimer he reminds me of the animal crossing mayor

bastila there was no need for such a fancy bow

malak is like evil aang

revan is so much shorter than malak omg

are me and bastila sharing dreams. are we both obsessed w revan

poor mission ):

WHAT WAS MASTER TORTIMER ABT TO SAY????????? EVER SINCE WHEN??? DID WE KNOW EACH OTHER BEFORE MY AMNESIACS????? DID BASTILA TELL U SMTHN MORE WHEN I WASNT IN THE ROOM???

im intrigued i like this whole hidden jedi shtick its very compelling. so is whatever theyre hiding from me

kinda surprising no jedi found me before tho given my force juju is so strong

IM A LEGIT JEDI NOW??? SICK!!!

does revan rlly not have pronouns i thought that was a tumblr thing but they straight up are a nonbinary icon ive never heard a single pronoun used. revan's pronouns are revan/revan's

damn revan seems so cool in these stories (charismatic war hero that convinced their troops to join them as conqueror?? julius caesar) and yet all we've seen them do onscreen is get blown up and die by accident

A YEAR AGO? the way they were talking i assumed revan died like. a week before the game started

master uh i forgot his name he has martin scorcese vibes said revan was a paragon of the jedi so what im getting is that all jedi gifted kids turn evil

even if i didnt know revan as a tumblr darling id KNOW revan has to be alive somewhere they way everyone talks abt them is too cool for a character who exploded and died. i think. i hope. I PAID £1.19 TO MEET REVAN

'only you and bastila can stop malak' seriously????? just us two?? ive been a jedi for like, 6 minutes and you guys keep calling bastila young???? do you guys not wanna help??

omg im getting carth to traumadump! <3

HE WAS ON REVAN'S ARMY>??

i totally knew the jedi code and did not have to google it whatsoever

they rlly said fuck going to illum heres a crystal from the bin

he told me id be a great sentinel and i was like i know but i want blue cause i dont wanna be matchies with bastila

OGH!!! I HAVE A LIGHTSABER!!!! THIS IS GAME OF THE YEAR!!!!

omg i made my lightsaber perfectlyyy which is rare <3 getting a good grade in jedi

maybe i was a travelling lightsaber salesman before my amnesia

seriously though WHO was i everyone's kinda stopped acting like i have amnesia since the first mission BUT IVE PLAYED DRAGON AGE THAT GIVES YOU OPPORTUNITIES TO RP UR PAST. THIS DOESNT. EITHER THIS GAME IS BAD (but i love it so its not) OR I HAVE RETROGRADE AMNESIA

also everyone keeps being like "Oh ur force juju is so strong" AND NOBODY FOUND ME TIL NOW??? suspicious. did getting a really bad concussion activate the force in me

im too confused and amnesiac'd to think abt anything except the fact i have a glowing stick now

FSESH FIVE:

big fan of using aliens to avoid having to get VAs to read every line

oh so carth's boyfriend saul betrayed him and became leader of the sith fleet so he has trust issues

well he needs to calm down. i can't betray him cause i dont know what the fuck is happening

yooo i love the design differences on the mandalorians

oh my god this lady wanted to fuck her droid cause it was her husband's. and then it killed itself. wtf. game of the year tho

wtf they jebaited this juhani person into going dark side but then i talked her out of it. that seems a bit mean of them

i hope she can join my party she looks too unique to be a random npc

ive been thinking and I might be going crazy but there was a loading screen tip ages ago that said jedis could wipe ppl's mind and all i thought at the time was 'fuck the shitshow acolyte didnt make that up'. but what if one of them wiped MY memory and i used to be a jedi or smthn ????????

cause they keep being like ur weirdly good at this??? did bastila steal my memories??????????

I KNOW I HAVE AMNESIA!! EVEN IF EVERYONE DOESN'T BRING IT UP BC THEYRE PROBABLY TRYING TO SAVE MY FEELINGS

if i dont have amnesia and im just deeping the fact the opening had my life being mansplained then im gonna look real stupid

anyway time 2 go to the fuckshit ruins cave where r-dog and malak went to

"it must be referring to revan. the dark lord and malak--" revan's pronouns are revan/thedarklord

bastila said theres no mention of the Builders in the archives. does she just know every text off by heart

THIS DROID IS 20K YEARS OLD ???

omg i can equip 2 lightsabers at once. game of the year

OK I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID ABOUT THE AMNESIA BASTILA IS ASKING ME QUESTIONS ABOUT MY BACKGROUND THAT I CAN ANSWER. I REPEAT I DO NOT HAVE AMNESIA

ok i didnt get choices and i didnt really uh… say anything that i didnt already get told im still not ruling out amnesia

also booo i didnt get to find out how old i was

master tortimer rlly looks like the ultimate ketamine yoda

LMAO THERE WAS A DIALOGUE OPTION 2 CALL JUHANI A CATGIRL

omg kashyyk from jedi fallen order!!!

I CAN UPGRADE MY LIGHTSABER THIS IS JUST LIKE JFO

omg this ship is fun i wish everyone had personalised bunk spaces like hfw… a game which came out 19 years after this i should probably just take what we have

im gonna start w manaan cause im p sure thats what B-dog said n its the same language the droid was speakin

omg hyperspace from star wars

THE GUY THE BUILDING FELL ON???

am i having dreams abt revan bc bastila killed revan and im connected to her this is so roundabout

maybe i'd sleep better if my ponytail wasnt clipping into the pillow

[kiwi accent] six

carth needs a xanax every time i think we're friends he stops trusting me

also lmao he actually pointed out how wild it was that a day one padawan is being sent on this uber important mission and HES RIGHT IT IS WEIRD!! i thought it was main character logic but he's calling it out

i really really like the sense of unease that's setting in like at first i thought it was just cause im not used to 2003 games but no this is on purpose bc carth my friend carth keeps calling it out

THERE IS A CHILD ON MY SHIP ??????????????????

lmao the representative for menaan is roland wann. its like poetry it rhymes

there are no cameras in the sith hangar <3 rookie error i can commit crimes now

bastila's favourite hobby is getting shot and walking into my grenades

this isnt a combat system this is a missing system

I GOT ARRESTED???? IM JUST A GIRL

nvm i had a datapad that said the sith were evil so theyve let me go free and we're besties

why do i feel like ive just walked into an underwater horror mission

this suit waddles at the speed of a penguin on fentanyl

i tamed the beastie this is like how to train your dragon

MALAK FIRED ON REVAN?????? WERENT THEY BEST FRIENDS???????

but maybe revan escaped when bastila wasnt looking THEYRE FINE THEYRE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE. I BELIEVE

so hopefully when we run into revan they'll be like agh i changed my ways cause of the being shot thing and they'll be my bestie

great news i successfully communicated w the ship child and gave her back to dantooine. my girl has shockingly good linguisitics skills

bastila is so dour "oh watch out for the dark side" GIRL I AM. I NEED TO GET THE BEST GRADE IN GAME MORALITY

ok OFF TO KASHYYK i hope cal kestis is there… thru the force i guess… bc he wont be born for another 4000 years but its whatever

omg you'll never guess what. another vision. wow its one of the thangs. cool this is a tomorrow me problem

[hana-no-seiiki]

Hay sorry to bother you but could you please do another Gotham batfam and villains with a very powerful magical girl reader that is also shy and meek with OP power please

MOON PRISM POWER!

(romantic) yandere batfam x magical girl! reader

You never wanted this power. Nor the responsibility. Nor the the fame that came with

Unfortunately for you, the universe could be cruel at times.

It chose you—not out of kindness or fairness, but necessity. You were the only one who could bear the weight of its hopes and fears, the only one with a soul strong enough to wield such immense, unforgiving strength.

And now, as the stars burn brighter than ever before, as the shadows loom larger and darker, the choice has already been made.

You can run from it. Deny it. Curse the heavens for their indifference. But the power will remain, waiting for you to decide.

All it took was one night for the weight of it all to show

All it took was one night for the weight of it all to show. The burden you had ignored, the cracks you’d tried so desperately to hide—it all came crashing down like a tide you couldn’t hold back.

The first sign was the silence. Not the comforting kind, but a suffocating quiet that pressed against your chest, heavy and unrelenting. Then came the visions: fractured moments of a future you couldn’t understand but were certain you were meant to prevent.

And finally, the pain. Not physical, but deeper—an ache in your very soul, as if the universe itself was forcing you to feel its despair.

You tried to hold it together. Tried to tell yourself that it wasn’t your fight, that someone else—anyone else—could do it. But the truth is, no one else can.

The stars are watching. The shadows are stirring. And you… you’re caught in the center, whether you’re ready or not.

In any case! To the headcannons!

As a native Gothamite, you hated the fact that you got these flashy powers that stuck out like the sorest of thumbs amongst the dark knights and decrepit villains.

You’ve always wanted to blend in with your folks. To be a drop in the ocean. You were satisfied with that life but the ocean had other plans. It dragged you to its depths, revealing secrets you never asked for, truths you weren’t ready to face. You weren’t just a drop—you were the storm waiting to rise, the current that could change everything.

You fought against it, clinging to the life you knew. The quiet mornings. The laughter of your neighbors. The simple, mundane moments that once felt like all you’d ever need. But something inside you stirred, restless and relentless.

It whispered in your mind when you tried to sleep, tugged at your heart when you tried to forget. A pull toward something greater. Something terrifying.

You could pretend all you wanted, but deep down, you knew the truth: the life you wanted was already gone. And the one ahead? It was bigger, darker, and far more dangerous than you could ever imagine.

Damian Wayne, blood son and so called demonspawn, your opposite in all senses of the term was the first to fall into the depths of infatuation.

It wasn’t immediate, nor was it graceful. For someone raised in the shadow of assassins and forged in the fires of discipline, emotions like these were alien, unwelcome intrusions on a meticulously crafted persona. But you? You were chaos to his control, warmth to his cold calculation, and it unnerved him in ways even the deadliest adversaries couldn’t.

He hated it at first—the way his thoughts lingered on you, the way his pulse quickened when you spoke. He told himself it was a weakness, one he would crush the moment it surfaced. But no matter how hard he tried, the feelings only grew, taking root in the cracks of his ironclad walls.

Damian was no stranger to obsession, but this was different. You weren’t a target to conquer or a problem to solve. You were… light. Maddening, blinding, and completely beyond his control.

And for the first time in his life, he let himself fall. Not gracefully, not without resistance, but with the same intensity he brought to everything else—because Damian Wayne doesn’t do anything halfway.

Dick Grayson and Timothy Drake were next, both eager to find out the truth behind your identity and even more to be at your side. To bask in the light of your suffering so that they may ease their own.

For Dick, it was instinctual. He had always been drawn to broken things—not to fix them, but to share in their weight. Your quiet resilience, the way you carried your burdens without complaint (maybe because you were to meek, too weak willed to share in your thoughts and troubles), reminded him of himself in ways that frightened and intrigued him. To him, you were a mirror and a mystery, someone who made him feel seen even when you refused to be.

Tim, on the other hand, approached you like a puzzle, a thousand jagged pieces he couldn’t help but try to assemble. It wasn’t just curiosity—it was necessity. You challenged him in ways no one else did, unraveling the tightly coiled threads of his mind. He thought understanding you might help him understand himself, but somewhere along the way, it became something more. He admired the strength you tried to hide, and in his own quiet way, he wanted to protect it.

For both of them, you were a beacon—not of hope, but of something raw and unyielding, something they couldn’t turn away from. They didn’t know how to explain it, nor did they want to. All they knew was that being near you, even in your pain, made the world feel a little less cold.

Jason Todd and Bruce Wayne were the last, but certainly not the least in terms of infatuation.

For Jason, it was a storm. Fierce, chaotic, and impossible to ignore. He wasn’t one for subtleties, and his emotions had always been larger than life—rage, grief, guilt, and now this. He didn’t fall quietly; he crashed into you like a tidal wave, drawn to the fire in your eyes and the defiance in your every move. You reminded him of who he used to be, of the parts of himself he thought he’d lost in the Lazarus Pit.

But it wasn’t just admiration or connection—it was envy, too. He envied your ability to endure, to keep standing despite everything you carried. And somewhere in that envy was something tender, something he tried to deny but couldn’t help but nurture. Jason never did know how to love softly, and with you, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Bruce, however, was a different story. For him, it was quiet. Subdued. A steady ache that he refused to acknowledge, even as it consumed him. You weren’t just another person in his orbit—you were a paradox, someone who challenged his worldview while also fitting seamlessly into it. You had your own darkness, your own scars, but instead of drowning in them, you wore them like armor. Girly, sparkly and bright.

You were proof that there was strength in vulnerability, and that terrified him. Bruce Wayne, the man who had built an empire on emotional walls and calculated distance, found himself drawn to the way you refused to let the world break you. He saw in you what he always wanted to believe about himself—that the past doesn’t have to define the future.

But Bruce, as always, kept his distance. He thought it was better that way, safer for both of you. What he didn’t realize was that the more he pulled away, the more you slipped into the cracks of his carefully constructed life.

Jason was the storm. Bruce was the quiet. And you? You were the bridge between them all, the thread that tied their disparate worlds together.

Eventually these men will band together to tie you down. Keep that light of yours in a gilded cage, only for them to gaze at and maybe share with the world if they so willed.

But for now you have your freedom

cling to it.

For it will be like the life you had before,

a fleeting, fragile thing, slipping through your fingers before you even realize it’s gone.

tldr: yeah you’re f u c k e d

[1nthedarknessofthenight]

﴾ she’s my collar

pairing: han jisung x f!reader

genre: one-shot, idol au, smut

word count: 10,1K

warnings: alcohol use ⋆ choking ⋆ mutual!choking ⋆ switch!han and switch!reader ⋆ mostly sub!han ⋆ mommy!kink (ehm…yup) ⋆ spitting! ⋆ fingering (f. receiving) ⋆ unprotected!sex ⋆ creampie!

summary: while playing a game of spin the bottle, you learn some very interesting things about your friends that night, but probably the most memorable one of them is when the cute boy next to you confesses his dirtiest dream

author’s note: another boy absolutely obsessed with the reader, but that’s exactly how it should be

main masterlist

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You lick your lips, tangy liqueur burning at the back of your throat. Mind fuzzy, you feel your body softly vibrating with the side effects of your sugary drink. Even after one taste you just knew it would not be long, before you would feel your body loosing up, laying back in to the back of the couch with a heavy sigh. The bartender, your long haired friend, sure is not shy with alcohol and looking around the room your blurry vision falls on the mess on the living room floor. If you knew that you would be in such a state like this, you wouldn’t spend so much time getting ready. The black dress, which was probably way too formal for a small house party, started to stick to your skin from the humid air and alcohol in your system. You pulled your hair up just to feel the light breeze going through the room, skin glistening in the soft light, itchy slightly with sweat. You just know you look like a total mess, but there is someone who finds himself disagreeing with this statement.

Han nervously played with the liquid inside his glass, thirsty, but not taking a sip, because he couldn’t miss the opportunity to literally gawk at you. He wasn’t subtle with his looks, but you out of anyone didn’t notice it. Maybe because you got kind of used to his big, doe eyes looking at you or maybe you are simply oblivious. His friends already knew about his little fascination with you, but they didn’t say anything — but one thing about it was funny. Han looked like he didn’t know it himself.

Did he really not realize how much time he spends just staring at you? Tonight especially. Though he did register how he got completely stiff when you walk in with that pretty, little dress, makeup done a little darker than usual. He has an eye for a detail, literally spending the whole party going over your body with his eyes. The first time, the only time, he didn’t look at you was when he got seated next to you. He wanted to sit across from you, get a clear view of how your legs spilled out of your dress, how your fingers played with the pillow between your thighs, how a drip of sweat slowly rolled over your neck down, right between your breast— but no…He has to sit next to you, because of his friend who though it would finally help him talk to you.

You are friend of Seungmin’s. He still remembers when he first met you — so sweet and smiley, he wondered how could you be his friend, but the more he got to know you, he realized, you are really different from what he first thought. Well, get to know you in the sense of watching you from afar and maybe throwing a few words when you would be having a conversation with one of his friends. He usually wasn’t so quiet — Is he really that stupid? He knows that maybe there’s a small crush or something, maybe he is just admiring you. Though his silence, almost shyness, seems to be natural when it comes to you.

There is something pulling him in…He must say that he always liked how confident you are. You didn’t put yourself above or anything, but your humor and the way you spoke made him feel like a fucking high school girl who has a crush on the one popular jock. Oh, but you do really make his heart throb as he purposefully, unintentionally, took a deeper breath to inhale your spicy perfume. Even if he doesn’t want to keep himself away from you, your whole presence intimidated him enough for him to tuck himself a little away from you. Not to make you uncomfortable and also for him to not do anything stupid.

You tilt your head slightly to the direction of the man next to you who for a while seems to only shuffle around in his seat. You wipe away the sweat forming on your forehead, before putting your attention back to the game before you. Few minutes ago you laughed at the idea of playing spin the bottle, but after putting few new rules and twists to it, you are kind of really getting in to it. After few rounds of spinning, still not being picked, you grew amused with the scandalous questions and answers from the guys. However when the bottle suddenly points at you, your smile flatters.

Seungmin watched your face fall into small scowl, completely natural reaction you always have when looking at him. His brown eyes for a second flicker to his friend next to you who again is only looking at you, but other than that his attention is fully on you. “Choose your next words wisely, Kim.” You say, eyes forming into slits at the way he grinned evily.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be anything crazy.” Those words sounded ridiculous coming from him, but you only lean back on the couch, challenging him. The twist to this game is probably the results of the alcohol. From what you heard so far your jaw dropped every time at every new information about your friends and you think that you now know a little too much about them. The brunette across from you, basically knows everything about you and than makes it easier for him to choose his question, easier for him to embarrass you. “Y/N, do your favorite position with someone of your choice.”

Your lips parted in shock. Your hand flies to smack him across his exposed thigh peeking from his jorts painfully, the noise being muted by the others laughing. You scoff at him, watching in small delight how he hissed in pain. You immediately feel heat traveling to your already hot cheeks, eyes going back and forth between your friends. Everyone was still laughing drunkenly, everyone expect him as you turn to look into his direction.

You think he looks even more flustered than you. His pouty lips, stained a little red from his chapstick, fall apart, eyes wide, glistening in the darkness. When you turned your head to him, he almost jumps out from his spot next to you. Han’s heart skips a beat from the question, more like a dare, send your way. He doesn’t know if he wants to know the answer, because that would mean you would have to do it with someone — someone else than him. God, he wished for you to pick him. Seungmin wants to kill him doesn’t he? Maybe it is a payback for the time he figured him all out, he was the first one to confront him about it — of course he denied it. By giving you a free choice of choosing whoever you wanted was probably the most painful thing about his revenge.

However your eyes are still on his and he almost shivers from the way your eye color shined through your slightly smudged eyeshadow. “Hannie.” His mouth falls more open, ears ringing from the way his name fell from your tongue, he nearly forgot his own name.

You could have chosen anyone. Maybe your close friend and put him into some embarrassing position as a payback, but you chose him. He felt sick to his stomach, but in a good way. The lump in his throat was hard to swallow as his whole body froze for a moment in shock. From his small inner tantrum, your sudden difference in body language came unnoticed till now.

The laughing stops at your voice, everyone turning back at you with their own faces of shock. Yours is only turned to the man facing towards you. You feel a small nervousness creeping up on you from his silence, maybe the alcohol gave you a little too much confidence. “You up for it?” You trail off slightly, not so sure about your chosen partner at the moment.

Han however feels his body shake in adrenaline, sitting up quickly. “Yeah-“ His voice was kind of piched, making him cough into his fist, already dying of the embarrassment as his friends snicker. “Yeah, sure.” He corrects himself, leaning back in to his hands, trying to act nonchalant. His friends watch him and you carefully, but not laughing further, they kind of wished for this to happen. They are invested in your answer and also eager to see their friend finally getting to be close to his dream girl in some way.

Han’s confidence which was already fake from the start, now flies out of the room, when he watches you make your way closer to him. His boba eyes fall on to the pillow between your legs, silently wishing you would shove his head between them — wait that would be his favorite position, how silly of him. The soft material is thrown away, drool forming in his mouth as he catches a quick view of your soft thighs and the way you for a moment sit up to pull your dress down, they just so happened to smash together so beautifully.

All air then gets taken away from him when you make your way to him, but mostly because you boldly crawl up to him. The vibe in the room shifts slightly as you go closer to him on your hands and knees. You don’t even know where the confidence of doing that came from but the look on his face is totally worth it, you don’t even look at the other people in the room as they only mimic his expression and his is the only one that mattered. He wants to look away from you, heat spreading all over his chest and face, but the way you move so smoothly and they way your tits spill over your top, is basically impossible for him to look away. You have him totally under your spell, he hopes you know your own immense sex appeal, because watching you crawl over to him from between his legs, should be illegal.

You stop before him, your hands touching his legs, balancing your weight. “Lay down for me.” Han is literally in heaven right now. He almost whimpers at your honeyed voice, eyes falling on to the soft fat of your chest. You literally have him mesmerized so it isn’t too difficult for him to comply, but he still feels how his breathing becomes heavier when he slowly layed back on the floor.

You wish he doesn’t see your hands shaking when you touch his knees, pushing his legs down, so he lays completely flat. You can’t lie that you are not enjoying they way he is trying so hard to look unfazed — Is he really that nervous around you, like Seungmin told you or is it because you crawl up his body like a predator?

Both, definitely both.

Han thinks he will never get this view out of his head ever. You are careful enough not to touch him too much as you suddenly come into his field of vision. Gosh, how pretty are you actually? Your hair falls to your face slightly since you hover above him, licking at your lips. If it would be possibly, he would turn into dust, watching you slowly sit down on his upper thighs, hands falling on his heaving chest. He hopes you don’t feel his heart pounding, he hopes you don’t feel him getting hard like a pathetic boy. He just can’t help it, he can’t help those dirty thoughts racing through his head. He wants so badly to touch you, left hand forming into fist as he looks up at you.

You nearly let out a sound, gasp of sorts, from the view you are having. His eyes were slightly glossy as his spit licked lips, looking good enough to eat. The glasses on his nose fogged up slightly at the bottom from his deep breath which you feel him take under your fingertips. You for a moment forgot about the others, not even caring that your dress is pushed up. You want so badly to sit down, to not be hovering, but already this is even for you too much. He looked so yummy with his sweater pulled down his one shoulder, exposing his collarbones, Adam’s apple bobbing, having the biggest argue to bite at it.

However a voice speaks up at the moment, making you and your current partner snap back to reality. “Cowgirl?” Seungmin voices out, looking at you like you just grew a second head. “That’s it?”

You choke a little over your answer, pushing your weight more onto your hands as you look back at him, not missing the small huff under you. “And? Simple, but good…” You answer, shruggering.

“Who would’ve guessed, Y/N likes to be on top.” Laughs Hyunjin and to you it kind of sounded like an insult, immediately glaring at him, but your head snaps to the man next to him.

“Kind of expected you to be a pillow princess or something.” Says Minho, taking a sip of his beer. His eyes held a teasing look, smirking at you and mostly his friend who still had his eyes on your figure.

“Yeah…” Agrees your close friend again, head tilted up to the ceiling like in thought, before shaking his head with a small smile. “Can’t imagine you toping someone.”

You nearly roll your eyes at them, it hurt your pride a little. Your fingers scrunch up the soft material of Han’s sweater, weight now fully on your hands. He doesn’t move, because he simply couldn’t as he feels the delicious pressure on his body. While you were conversing, you probably didn’t even realize that by leaning more forward, your back formed a little arch. He almost missed the saliva rolling over the corner of his lips, head pulled to the side just to see the way your body formed into the beautiful arch. Fuck, he hopes you don’t feel him under you, because he tugged himself into his boxers maybe a little too stupidly back into his room, where he literally spend his whole day picking up his outfit with Jeongin’s help. If you would just push yourself a little higher, to the right, you would be literally grazing his —

“I can…” Han nearly chokes over the word, eyes widening, not even expecting himself to speak up. You then look down at him, your eyebrows raising to your hairline in a silent question. This all feels to him, like he should be thankful for even getting a look at you like that. “I mean–“ He laughs, but it doesn’t sound amused, he only let the noise out of embarrassment he literally put himself in, it was going so well for him till now…well, at least he can say that he had you on top of him at some point. “–it’s hot when a girl tops.” He swallows, lips jumping into a small smile, feeling sweat drip down his forehead from yours and his friends’ stares.

You have never felt so full with power, looking down at the cute, flushed boy with a smile. Slapping him across his chest, made his body jump, eyes widening, before he snaps his hips immediately back down. “Thanks, baby boy.”

He knew it was meant as joke, watching you in disappointment as you stand up, but he couldn’t stop his cock from twitching in his pants. He immediately sits up at that, grabbing the pillow you were holding before and putting it between his own legs. His moves are so obvious to all of his male friends he wants to literally die, but some of them look like he wasn’t the only one moved in some way with your small performance. The realization that the pillow was literally between your plush thighs, really doesn’t help him find his composure.

You black out a little from the moment you pull away from Han, because you can’t believe you just did all that and said that. It rolled out of your tongue so naturally that it shocked even you. Your hand grasps one of the pillows next to you, putting it between your legs, so you won’t expose anything, well you think you definitely did flash someone by crawling up to Han like a slut, but whatever. It was mostly because you don’t want anyone to get a glimpse of the growing wet spot on your panties. You know it’s not the alcohol anymore, after what you did, you are totally sober.

You were never that shy about speaking about things like that, but this kind of comes to the top of the list of the wildest things you have ever done. You can’t look at him, you can’t. You can’t however get him out of his head, how good he looked under you…You look up from your hands playing with the pillow between your legs, eyes falling on the muscular man, watching his lips move, till you finally find your sense of hearing again.

“Who you would make out with in this room?” From this and the other questions, you think you kind of had the worst one. With only being your first one, you already thought it was enough. You wished that it was something like this, instead of the thing that you did, but deep down you kind of enjoyed it in some sick way.

The question was meant for the cat like man who really didn’t seem to be even a little bit bothered by such question. “Easy, Y/N.“ Minho almost scoffs, gesturing to you, before looking at you for an answer.

From the look in his eyes you think he is hiding something from you, like he knows something you don’t. You give him nothing in return, still salty about his comment, but the man next to you definitely had to pull a face or something as the oldest points at him. “Han looks a bit offended there.” Chan laugh blends into the rest of the cackle and even if you also smile in amusement, there is still confusion. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, but his hair is too into his face to let you see him. Thank God, because he would dig his grave even deeper if you would see his furiously red face.

Jeongin brings the attention back to the game as he grips the glass bottle in the center of the circle to spin it again. You watch the bottle spin quickly, reflecting the lights before it stops right between you and Han. However the youngest doesn’t think further about who is more close to it, eyes falling on his friend immediately. “What kink you haven’t tried before?” It still shocks you that this cute faced guy can be sometimes so blunt.

Your own interest in his answers makes you look at him and like he can just feel your stare, he also glances at you briefly. He humms long and loud in thought, eyes going everywhere around the room, before he tugs his head back into his chest. But you didn’t know that from the corner of his eye, he was watching your fingers playing with material of the pillow. His mind grew fuzzy at your lovely manicured nails, mouth again opening before he could even think his answer through. “Ehm…choking?” He answers truthfully, but he wishes for the day he could lie instead.

“What — really?” Says Felix, the others also voicing out their own disbelief.

Han only nods, already wanting to end this conversation, but he can’t help himself from glancing at you to see your own reaction. To his surprise you are not looking at his flushed face, but at his fingers instead. He stops the unintentional playing with his rings, the move making you look up at him through your eyelashes. Your gaze meets his and he again doesn’t look at you, simply because it is impossible. However to his surprise you look away from him first when both of yours eyes met. Did he just catch you checking out his hands? Now he is the one feeling powerful, liking this new, shy look on you just as much as the other.

────

You don’t even know how you lasted this long. It is now the early hours after midnight, maybe not that spontaneous, but considering the party was going on since the late afternoon, you are really shocked that you are still standing. You think that the reason for your upstanding is the game of spin the bottle which kept your body and mind occupied till now. You only drank soft drinks after that, craving something sweet. Sadly your sweet tooth wasn’t suppressed, because there was something way more sweeter you were craving.

Han, not to your surprise again kept this weird distance between you two. Perhaps the thing that you put him through totally blew any chance you had with him. However you are also aware that his silence was a little different from the other ones. Those times felt like he was just kind of shy, but now? He literally looked like he was trying so hard not to finally say something to you.

You spend a long time in the bathroom after that. Trying to make yourself a person again as well as also trying to calm yourself down. You still can’t believe you basically sat on him like that…also this one thing still lingered in your mind. Choking. How on earth had he not tried it before? You don’t know about his game, but from what you have seen he seems to be quite bashful about this kind of thing. Though when you would catch him with the guys talking, he was always the loudest of the bunch. Maybe he didn’t like you? No, he liked you a little too much…

As you felt somehow fresh, wiping of any smudged makeup on your face and also washing the sweat off your body, because you couldn’t function otherwise, you did feel confident enough to walk up to him. Everything is now cleaned up, looking like there wasn’t a party at all and now it was the time for sleep. Seungmin, even if he mostly acts like he isn’t actually one of your closest friends, let you have his bed, while he would sleep on the couch. Still it shocked you a little, because he likes his beauty sleep, but he only scoffed at you, saying that the couch was actually way more comfortable than his bed ever will be. Oh, how you loved your friend’s love language sometimes…

You approach Han while he pulls out a bottle of water from the fridge. You are thankful that everyone else was already either in their room or showering, because you just had to stop in your steps to just stare at his profile. Your eyes travel down his strained neck, head thrown back, you watching closely how he eagerly swallows every drop. A small drop rolls from the corner of his lips and you wonder how can someone look so hot when drinking water, because the way the liquid rolled down his sharp jawline all the way down is throat was simply sinful.

Wiping the small drop of water from his neck, he almost chokes on his water when he sees you from the corner of his eyes. Pulling the bottle away from his lips quickly, he looks at you with big eyes, you not really catching his spooked reaction, because you are trying so hard to play it cool right now. “Do you have something I could change into?” You ask him, breaking the awful silence between you.

“Doesn’t Seungmin have anything for you?” Is his immediate response and your mouth opens and closes at that. His question is genuine, but also yours makes him jump in the inside.

You smile softly at him, shrugging. “You know how he treasures his stuff…” Looking at him, you realize that maybe you shouldn’t have asked him that. You were already bold enough for today…His face didn’t tell you much, but from what you can see, it looks like he doesn’t want to. “Sorry, I’ll ask someone else–“

His hand silences you, lips pulled together. He again feels embarrassed by the way he reacts so brightly yet so dimly around you, but he can’t missed the opportunity of giving you something his. “No…come with me.” Your face forms again in the same smile as before, but now it is more genuine.

He knows his steps are looking a little too fast, eager even, but when he walked pass you his nose was again hit with your perfume. He really couldn’t wait anymore to give you something, for you to return it back leaving only the linger of your smell behind. When he nears his room, he suddenly remembers the small mess he left it in. He is already dying inside, because no way you will see his room, be with him even just for a few minutes alone and he really is looking forward to bask in your presence alone. Though he really didn’t want to flick the lights on and give you the view of the mess of clothes, so he just goes inside blindly, trying to find his lamp. After few stumbles he finally turned it on, but it still didn’t make the mess disappear much to his disappointment.

You however don’t really put too much mind to it, because he is man after all and also you are a little occupied with looking around his room. Few posters are plastered on the wall, eyes falling on to his guitar at the corner of his room. You remember liking every post of his playing, spending a little too much time analyzing how his fingers moved so smoothly over the instrument. Han unknowingly to you came after each one of your likes to Minho, jumping in excitement from this small gesture, only for it to be answered with a groan every single time.

You watch the brunette go through his closet, making your way to his bed. His back was turned to you, so he didn’t see you slowly lowering yourself to sit on his bed. He was too caught up in finding the perfect thing for you to leave your scent on. “So…” You trail off, so quietly you feared the he didn’t hear you, but his head snaps so quickly to you, you think he had a whiplash. “You really haven’t tried it before?” You hate yourself for not keeping this small wonder to yourself.

Han nearly forgot about you being here with him, the question striking confusion in him. “What exactly?” Maybe there is too much on his mind right now, like you for example and the need of finding something for you to sleep in.

The small pout on his face is cute, cheeks puffed out and eyebrows furrowed. Again the way he lets himself be so quiet and quite soft spoken around you, helps you come out of your shell more. The fact you don’t feel any effect from the alcohol anymore tells you that this confidence was coming from you only. In the air lingered something raw as he looked at you sitting on his bed and he really can’t say that he hates how you just sat on it without his permission. He kind of liked it how bold you are sometimes. Maybe it isn’t actually such a deal, but it is to him, any way of having you on his bed is a win for him.

You pat the spot next to to you, hand digging into the softness of his sheets. “Come here.” You say, nearly in a whisper and again you are using your spell on him.

A dumb ‘huh?’ flies out of his mouth, because that is the only answer he could form at that moment. The quietness seems to suffocate him as well as also your intense stare, looking like an angel from the way the light of his lamp created a halo around your head. It was never this quiet in the dorm ever, even at night, it felt like you two were the only people here — but in his heart it is only you.

“Come here.” You repeat again with the same tone, patting the same spot again.

Right next to you, again. A little closer, too close, he just knows, he will shut off from the proximity. But he really wants to make you happy and also he is getting really curious about what you want to whisper to him in that sultry voice of yours. Han is a literal puppet, you have him in the palm of your hand and finally — you see it. Your lips are tugged up in to a small smile as you watch him take careful steps to you, before sitting down right beside you.

With your hand blocking him from getting even closer to your body, it kind of calms him. His hands fall onto his lap, eyes going over the crotch of his jeans. The situation, the awful situation you put him through was painful and hard to get through. After you literally made him hard just by hovering over him, you put him through hell, him fighting the argue to not just go to the bathroom and jerk off, till he would cum all over himself at the thought of you. The reason was that his band members would never let him live out a peaceful day if he would and also he didn’t want you to figure it out. Not let you figure out that he would jerk off, just because of you, literally few rooms away — though it’s not like he hasn’t done it before…

“Okay.” He says, palms of his hands sweating wildly as you leaned back on to your hands. He can’t let his eyes travel down the length of your body, he can’t — “What were you talking about?” His voice came out smooth, but not too much to his the ability to talk again vanished away when you say the next word.

“Choking.”

“Oh!” Is the first thing he says, laughing again in disbelief at the way you just so casually brought this thing up. You didn’t talk much before this. Only a few side conversations about a new movie, his love for superheroes etc., but never anything that would get you guys close enough for you to get the green card to ask something so intimate. He swallows nervously as you only stare at him back, waiting. “Yeah, I have never tried it before.” He also shakes his head as he didn’t answer you already.

You know he didn’t. He seems to be honest whenever you are around and you think you’re slowly understanding his behavior towards you. Even if there’s a mask of fake confidence on your face right now, you still try to be the leader of the conversation as you also started it. The more you think this through, the more you realize how you are probably taking this way too far, but in some way you can’t help it. The thing about confidence is that no one know if it’s fake or not. However he still in some way makes you feel a little more sure about yourself, but also you still can’t help, but feel shy around him. How could you not?

You literally sat on top of him, like you would ride his cock hidden inside his baggy jeans to your displeasure. He gave you the vibe of a total loser, maybe because of the black framed glasses, but also he is the hottest guy you have ever seen. You already feel the change between you two when you hovered over his body like that. His brown eyes shined in the light the same way as they are right now, him still patiently waiting for you to continue. You at his stare really become unsure about this whole thing you are trying to get at. “And do you want to?” You ask him, your eyes momentarily falling onto his hands. “Do you want to try it?”

His lips parted at that, answer a little late as his attention is slightly taken away by the way your lips moved, forming those pretty words. “Well, yeah?” He says, both of you already knowing the answer, but his little, pretty head didn’t catch that you meant it a little differently.

“I meant with me…” You say quietly, turning away from him as he only looks at you in total shock plastered on his face.

His heart jumps wildly, head spinning from your sentence. He thinks he is dreaming, he must be, because there’s literally no way that you just said that. He wished to take you right there, but he is only capable of looking like a fish on a desert. ‘-with me…’, he repeats again. Han is ready to pass out. He already thought that he was lucky enough for you to chose him when you were playing the game, but now this? He feels his chest warm up, heat totally different from the usual one spreading across his body.

He watches you turn away from him and — is that you being shy around him? His heart already can’t take this further, but most importantly it hates the fact you are not looking at him. “Are you serious? I don’t know, we are–” He is again lost of words as usual. He really doesn’t want to say the status between you two and ruin everything for him.

Your eyes fall shut for a split second, throwing the obvious embarrassment over your shoulder so you won’t crumble at his feet. “If it would make you uncomfortable–“

“No!” You jump, frightened a little by his loudness, looking at him with wide eyes. His own flicker over your features, missing how your chests rise with the same deep breaths. “Sure!” He says, again wanting to slap himself for answering that. “I mean…whatever — it’s cool.” There is no such thing as cool when it comes to you and specifically this.

The temperature in the room rises up as your frozen body slowly melts. A short silence hangs in the air, taking your time to go over his pretty face. “Okay.” You whisper.

The confirmation makes him hot all over, fidgeting. Han held his breath as you pull yourself up, turning your body into his direction. You both look at each other with longing in your eyes, he almost making a noise when you bite down at your lower lip. He doesn’t know how it is possible, but you are even more beautiful when you are looking at him. Fully at him, no one else, just him. He can already die as a happy man when you shuffle a little closer to him, your hand just grazing his leg over his jeans. Your own breaths came out rigid as you glance at him, following the slow closing of his eyes, like a cat.

A moment past by just staring at each other and even if you don’t mind it that much, the more you glance down at his pretty hands the more you became desperate. You crave his hands on your neck, squeezing just right and hard for you to see black spots. He doesn’t seem to notice your slow struggle, looking at him in waiting. Han only has this look on his face and other than that he doesn’t move an inch. Your mouth opens, nearly a chuckle thumbling out of you by this, it was starting to get a little awkward. “Well…are you going to?” You roll the words slowly out of your lips with a small embarrassed giggle, when he still doesn’t move.

Your words snap him out of the state he is in a little, gaze traveling to your own hand that gestures to your neck. He feels the immediate known burning sensation on his cheeks and chest. “Oh!” Again with this, it seems like you always make him speechless. The shyness on your face makes him smile a little, but it was more sheepish. He should’ve known by the look you were giving him back in the living room that you meant it like this. He is starting to get the idea that there really wasn’t even a small thought of you doing it to him…Though the image of his own hand around your pretty neck is pleasing it’s just not something he truly desires. “I thought…i meant it the other way kind of–“ Han mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

Your jaw falls to the floor a little at his confession. The embarrassment melts into something way more different after those words, even if he looks like an absolute blushing mess, he still waits for your answer. You actually are a little…troubled. Your gaze falls on to his neck, remembering how his Adam’s apple moved up and down, how the small stray string of water traveled down the length of it. “You want me to choke you?” You say, just to be sure, starting to feel the rumbling inside your tummy.

He wants to die. No way you said it out loud. He knows it was kind of obvious from his statement but still…you are literally talking about one of his biggest dreams. He can’t count how many times his own hand was squeezing at his neck, imagining it was yours instead. “Yes-“ He says breathlessly in desperation, swallowing the embarrassing reaction right after at your unrelenting expression. “Well, I haven’t try it either way, but I can do it to you.” He isn’t so sure If he could handle that, but he’s not that stupid to miss the opportunity.

You are still trying to get over the fact that he wants you to do it to him more. You completely forget that you wanted it first, because you simply can’t get the idea of having your hand around his neck out of your head. “Well, I kind of want to do what you want to do…” You say, again biting at your lip.

“Okay–“ He squeaks out.

You slowly move even closer to him, knees touching each other. You don’t waste anymore time, because you think you will go crazy otherwise. You raise your hand to his neck, watching how he nervously swallows, but you realize something. This whole thing was a little…casual in some way. You want him way closer than this, you need it. “Wait–“ You say, laughing a little at how awkward you are behaving. He nearly falls down to his knees to beg you to not stop as the hand that just graze his sensitive skin falls back to your side. “I can’t just do it — that would be weird.”

He sighs through his nose quietly. “Why?” Han hopes you don’t see the way his eyes shinned in neediness.

“It is better if it’s in the moment, you know? Otherwise it’s just not it.” You click your tongue at him, the muscle mesmerizing him for a second as you lick at your red stained lips. Han is actually really in the moment right now, he is already getting off to this in some way. He thought it couldn’t get better as you sit so closely to him, ready to choke him to a blissful death he hopes, but then you really surprise him. “Can I kiss you?” The question hangs heavily in the air. “Just to show you how it feels?”

You leaned closer to him with those words, boldly fanning your words across his face, fogging up his glasses. Han literally moans in his head. He wants to pinch himself right now, but even so if this would be a dream, he wouldn’t want to wake up. Your eyes become hooded, your eyeshadow making your whole look a little too intense for him to handle. He becomes putty in your hands, breathing out a sigh that sounded dangerously close to a whine. “Yeah, just to show me how it feels…” He repeats, already pushing his head down to line his face with yours.

“Yeah…” You say in the same tone, before smashing your lips to his.

You could taste everything on him. From his sweet chapstick that made his lips feel so soft, to the cider he drank on his tongue that slightly grazed over yours. Your eyes are closed to fully savour this feeling, but you could just tell he is trying really hard not to touch you. You want him to, those freaking hands of his make you feral. How they move across his guitar or how he simply opens a can with his middle finger like nothing, made you gush. It’s embarrassing that you are already feeling your panties sticking to you, but you can’t help it. The boy really knows how to kiss.

The quite loud smacks of your lips echoed through the room and when you experimentally pull away little, you immediately feel him chasing your lips. But you make it even better for him as your teeth wrapped around his plump bottom lip, biting and nibbling at it. His mouth falls open in a silent moan and you perfectly take the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Your tongue wraps itself around his and you have to sigh into him as your spits mix together. It was so fucking messy, just how you like it and just how he needs it. Han was completely at your mercy, body slumped forward, towards you and he just could feel the tears of pleasure burning and begging for more. He didn’t even know that this was your plan all along — to get him like this, completely drunk on you, so he wouldn’t expect your next move.

You had experience, you knew how it feels like when you are the least expecting it. You tremble just at the thought, hand touching his chest, momentarily trailing up and down. Your hand just barely touches his fresh tattoo and it makes him pull himself closer to you at that, but he completely still as your hand travels up. His kisses become a lot less precise, saliva trailing down his chin, but your own tongue stops it, licking him all up. His lips again parted, but now the whine building his chest is finally released as you wrap your finger around his neck, squeezing.

You shiver at the sound, hand already grabbing a little too hard for his first time, but he doesn’t seem to be opposed to it. He throws his head back, letting you climb onto your knees so you could still catch another small whine in your mouth. You are already soaking through your underwear, juices leaking onto your inner thighs. If he would just looked down he would see it, your lace panties completely ruined only by him. You have to pull away a little for him to see his face and it is to die for.

“Good?” You tease a little, because the pathetic frown on him is probably the best thing you have ever seen. You can feel him swallow under your hand, sweat rolling down his face and you quickly wonder what else you can do to him. The need to have him under you again is immense, you want to suffocate him with your body — in a good way of course.

Han is completely fucked right now. His cock is painfully digging into the hard material of his jeans and he knows that if you would squeeze more he would literally cum untouched. “Fuuuck…I-I–“ He can’t form any words, eyes blinking open to look at you.

You humm a little, head tilting to the side, your hair falling over both of your faces. You can see it on his face, in his eyes that the tears reflecting in them are just a pure pleasure. “Hm? Talk to me.” You say, loosing your grip a little to maneuver his head to the side. You feel his pulse pumping wildly around your fingertips as your lips touch his jaw.

A low moan rings in the air, loud enough for you to hear it. Han’s head – whole body is only supported by your hand on his throat, because he can only tremble in your hold when you kiss his jaw, all the way to his ear lobe. “Fuck me…” He groans a little, head fuzzy as your teeth nibble at his ear. Your sudden stop at your passionate kissing, makes him realize what he just said. “I mean–“ He tries to safe it by turning his head to look at you, only again going mute by the way your lipstick is smudged across your lips — he just knows it’s also all over his own and he will gladly wear it for you. “It feels good, better than I imagine, but…”

“But?” You continue, hand still unmoving, tips of your noses touching. He finds the gesture endearing.

His own tongue comes to lick at his lips and he realize he was right as he faintly tastes your glossy lipstick. His hands grip at his sheets tightly, material spilling over his fingers. He looks at you like a marvelous painting, not even feeling the small pain by having his neck in such position. “I need you closer…please.” Those are his words, the last one voiced out in a complete desperation.

You can’t fight against the smile spreading across your face and he melts again at such sight. The next thing that comes makes his cock jump, lips open wide. You swing your leg to strandle him like before, but now he could fully feel the delicious weight on him. “Holy shit–“ You really want to laugh, you really do, maybe make him a blushing mess, but seeing that this is already a little too much for him, you keep your mouth shut for now.

His throat is released from your grip, but before he could complain, your mouth is again on his. When you feel him deepen the kiss, you let out a small noise of bliss. There’s no way you can’t feel him under you and his guess turns out to be the truth when you ground yourself on him. You pull away from him again, just to hear the delicious gasp. His eyes are wide, dark, staring into yours, watching you move on his lap. There’s again this small smile on your lips and you can’t help yourself, but roll your hips harder against his to feel his tip hit your clit.

“You can touch me you know…” Your breathless voice sounds like honey to his ears, eyes shining at your request. You are starting to love the way you can make him look like this. Like a complete mess, so pathetic…If only he knew how much you are actually trying to stop yourself from just dry humping him till you both cum. You grab his hands that are still on his bed, before placing them on your waist, still not stopping your movements. “Here-“ You move his right hand up to your breast, not missing the small twitch of his cock. “–or here.” You leave his hand on your left tit, his hand fitting perfectly around it and he could your nipple poking at his palm. He watches you closely, a nasty curse flying out of his mouth when you move his other hand to your center.

He looks down at your legs, muscles jumping from your smooth moves. Your dress rides up to your thighs and when you tilt your hips closer to him, he gets a glimpse of your underwear. With the lamp light he sees the wet spot on to the front of the lacy material as well as also your stained inner thighs. Han can’t believe, he made you look like that, so wet and so full of lust, keeping his hand on your thigh for a while. You are so so soft — he remembers the day when you put that amazing smelling lotion on your legs after a day at the beach. He didn’t get a look at your bikini nor your body, because he had to go early to help Minho with groceries. He wanted to kill him for that. But now? This is better than he could have ever imagine.

He squeezes your tit lightly, only doing it harder right after when you whimper. You are a literal siren, luring him in to giving you anything and everything. He does want that. His fingers tweak your nipple skillfully, letting out a shocked moan at his sudden confidence. His other hand finally trails up you thigh, dipping his fingers in your essence before they press into you. You just happen to roll into them, sighing at the pressure. “More – give me more, Han.” You sound incredible. It should’ve come out as a plead, but he only hears it like demand.

His eyes keep going back and forth between his hand fondling your breast to you rolling your pussy, but he stops his gaze on your face. Your mouth is open, freely letting out sighs of pleasure and even if he’s probably the one that should be dominant, it’s you instead. He pulls your panties to the side, moaning with you when he trails his fingers through your folds. The grip you had on his shoulder, nails digging into his exposed skin peaking out of his sweater, makes his head momentarily roll back.

Your hole gushes more as his fingers circle your clit, you messily rolling your hips into his hand. The sight of his exposed neck and the need of being filled, the need leads you to shoving him in the chest. He lets out a small yelp as his back meets the mattress, watching you taking his hand between your legs and moving it a little more down. The tips of his fingers find your opening, letting you sit down on them.

He now finds himself again at this position with you being on top of him, but now with his fingers inside of you. The way he curls the tips of his fingers, makes you whimper, his ring rubbing deliciously against you. You are so warm and wet, your ass rubbing against him as you start to ride his fingers. “Oh…oh!” He gasps out, eyebrows shooting up as you bounce on his fingers, his hand becoming still..

Your thighs shook from the pleasure, palm of his hand just grazing over your clit. Even in your state you can’t miss how his breathing is getting heavier and heavier, like it was his cock you were riding. The thoughts make you look down, seeing the perfect outline and you realize you in fact can’t torture him and yourself for ever. “Want me to ride you?” You rasp out, the confidence radiating from you making his hips jump. “Want me to ride your cock, Han?”

“Fuck, yeah – please, ride me–“ He sounds so good like that, looking at you with puppy eyes as you pull yourself off his fingers. You miss the feeling of being filled, but you know it won’t take long before you have something even better.

You shuffle a little down to take his sweater from the front his jeans, giving you a glimpse of his hard abdomen. You are thankful that there’s no belt in your way, just flicking his fly open, pulling at the hard material and his boxers. He helps you pull his pants hallway, both of you too desperate to really strip fully. Your mouth waters as his cock springs up, hitting his stomach, the material of his sweater roughly grazing over him.

If you knew sooner that he was sporting such a pretty cock, you maybe would’ve said something sooner. His tip is painfully red, leaking, big vein running all the way from his balls to his tip. You wish for him to fuck your mouth, so deeply that the short hairs on his pubic bone would tickle your nose — next time…there will be next time definitely.

You grasp his heavy cock, thumb pushing at his hole, leaking even more around your digit. “How much do you want me, baby? Tell me–“ He moans wildly when you start to pump him too slowly to his liking.

He again gets a good view of your tits hanging out of the top of your dress, areola peaking at him. He blushes at your words, gasping as you pucker your lips, spit falling onto his tip, before spreading it over him. “I want you so bad.” He cries out at the end, because you squeeze him even harder. “Y/N, please. I wanted you for so long — ah! Do anything you want to me–“

You get a lot more out of him than you expected and his confession and plead, made you even wetter. “Anything you say?” You ask, him furiously nodding his head as you lean over his body, hand releasing him, cock slapping against your inner thigh. “Then open up–“ Han’s mouth is opened wider with your fingers at his lips and he nearly comes all over you when you spit in his mouth. He whimpers at your taste, he fucking whimpers — he even swallows it before you could even say it to him and that makes you finally sit down on his thick cock.

You quite underestimate his size, you own desperation blinding you. You feel him stretching you, burn however so good, your hips instantly roll down onto him. He already sees stars, looking onto his ceiling, wondering if was just send to heaven. Your walls suck him right in, pussy so good he already fights the urge to not fuck into you — he wants to be good to you, he wants to be your good boy.

You say his name, hands grasping the bottom of his sweater to pull it up, so you can see his slutty waist. He is so loud — he probably doesn’t even realize it, with his hands falling to your chest messily groping you, glasses already falling from his face. You let him pull the top of your dress down, tits spilling out and letting them bounce in the air. “You feel so good.” He moans, a sob or sorts falling out his lips, emotions all over the place.

He is so happy and so fucking horny. The way you move on top of him is so good that he just lets you do all of the work, pushing yourself up and down on him, rutting, hips rolling — he’s a total wreck. But he becomes a total mess when your hand again falls onto his neck, immediately grasping it roughly. “Oh my–“ He can’t finish, your grip kind of stoping him to do so, but he just can’t do anything other than be a whimpering mess. Han didn’t even know himself he could sound like that. You also let out a series of high pitched sounds, your fast movements making his bed creak and bang onto the wall. You hope everyone hears how good you are riding his cock. Fuck, Hyunjin, Minho and Seungmin, they can only wish to be in his place instead.

“Momm–“ Han chokes wildly from his own voice, eyes flying right open to look at you. Your hips shutter against his, your own eyes widening, but he could feel how you tightened around him. The grip on his neck surprisingly becomes tighter as you also pick up your speed. You never thought he would be so submissive, but you loved every second of it and hearing him almost call you that…

“Yeah, baby wanna cum? Wanna cum for mommy?” Han cries out, head pressing into his pillow. His mind spins from your words, hands gripping your waist.

He can’t think straight. A drool rolls down his chin to pool at your fingers around his neck, glancing at you. You moan at his state — he looks like a complete fucked out slut. “Please, mommy wanna cum for you, but — I-I need you to cum first-“

“Such a good boy.” You compliment him, your tongue tasting the sweat on your body. He whimpers again, letting you take his hand from your waist to put it around your own neck. “Make your mommy cum, Hannie–“ You lowly mumble.

As his own hand grabs your delicate neck, pressing into roughly, he soon sees why you love it so much. Your red face, puffy lips and his hand keeping your head tilted down for your gaze to be only on him, Han thinks that this look will be the death of him. His cock throbs inside you, feeling his tip kissing at your cervix slightly — so good. His other hand grips full of your waist, helping you move even more wildly against him.

You both gasp slightly for air, the familiar black spot appearing in your vision. Your own hand tightens around his neck, him giving you a long deep groan in return, completely different from the other sounds he gave you. Your skins meet with nasty loud smacks!, sticking and melting into each other. Your sweat starts to mix together, your hips jumping as you feel your sweet release. Like he could read your mind, he starts to fuck into you, making you see stars, his cock pressing roughly into your spot.

Your mouth hangs open, drool also rolling down your face, before in falls onto his stomach. He groans at your face, loving your messed up make-up and your body leaning more into him. When you start to moan more he keeps up the same pace, watching your legs tremble, body shaking, cunt forming a creamy ring around him as you cum. “Holy fuck! Just like that–“ Han slurs out.

You for a moment just lean into his hands, because you think you almost blacked out for real for the mind shattering orgasm. The way he still keeps fucking you, using your body to chase his own pleasure brings you to a quick overstimulation. You whine, grasping his hand around your throat and he at least loosen his grip a little to let you catch your breath. It burns, but with everything happening so fast you only cry out, squeezing his throat a little too much by your overstimulation.

Han’s eyes widened at your roughness, not missing your own state of fucked out even with the tears in his eyes. “I’m going to cum! — ohhhhhhh–“ He starts to literally sob, making you snap back to reality just to watch him cum under you.

“Gonna cum? Gonna cum for mommy? You’ve been such a good boy – you are mommy’s good boy. l-look at you, fucking this pussy so good, making your mommy cum so fucking hard –“

His hand falls from your neck, pressing into your tummy, his hips jumping as he cums inside you with a loud moan of pleasure. You gasp for air and same for him when you release him from your grip, your body slumping on top of his. With how deep he’s breathing his chest makes you move up and down, the hands on your body falling by his sides, completely wasted. His cum leaks slowly out of you, his cock still twitching and you on the other hand milking him dry. Your head is a fog and his is nothing – literally nothing, because the fact this was the best sex he ever had, makes him unable to form even a single thought.

You both take your time catching your breaths and after few deep intakes of air, his right hand start to caress the top of your head and yours his arm. You can feel him smiling when he kisses your forehead lovingly, making you mirror his expression, pulling your head from his chest. However your eyes firstly fall on his neck, red marks left behind and as he touches your own, you know you must have them also. “Did you like it?” You ask him and he rolls his eyes into the back of his head at such question and also from the fresh memories.

He groans firstly, before laughing in delight, the sound rumbling his chest. “Are you kidding?” Han asks you in disbelief, pulling you down to kiss you sweetly on your lips. “I loved it.” He whispers against your lips, your own forming into a smile. “But–will you...can I be your boyfriend?”

You laugh at him, pushing yourself up to our elbows to fully look at him. “Of course, you dummy ah!–“ You can’t finish as he flips you over, silencing your cry of surprise with a kiss.

When his laugh mixes with yours, body pressing into yours, feeling his soft cock hardening again, you knew you were in for a ride.

[dew-creek]

🐹🦔 Hinadam Day 3 - Sunflowers / Scars

I sat for so long trying to figure out how I wanted to line the last sketch but I just wasn't happy with anything....so you get the messy sketch I guess.

Anyhow, I have a LOT to say about this one actually. It's under the cut.

I have a lot of issues with DR3. Like, a lot. One of my lesser but still important issues however is how they handle the SDR2 cast. In Ch.6 Monokuma-Makoto (Monokoto? Makuma?) details the various ways the remnants mutilated not just others but themselves for the sake of despair. Yet, some how, they all look completely the same once they wake up in DR3. I feel the whole cast should look different, some more than others of course...

At the end of SDR2, we do see Hinata (I do think they shouldn't have done this. They should have left it up to the audience to decide what Hinata's fate was post-SDR2, if he stayed Hinata or woke up as Kamukura....much like how Makoto's handbook calls him the "Ultimate Despair" post final trial, possibly hinting at a darker alternative ending.)

(I got off track...)

Anyhow, we see Hinata, so we can infer, canon-wise, Hinata's body looks mostly the same. Which makes sense. We see Kamukura in his headspace in ch.6 and besides the long hair and red eyes, he basically looks the same.

But everyone else shouldn't, I think. Komaeda we know looks mostly the same sans Junko's arm. But Owari is hinted to have starved herself, which would be pretty impactful on one's looks.

It's even acknowledged by Sonia.

SO anyways...long story short, that's why I feel the cast should look different at least to some extent...

So here's my own piece of my personal vision for Tanaka/Hinata.

I flip between if Hinata is one identity and has merged him and Kamukura, or if they both inhabit the same body. But that's a tangent for another post.

[mariasont]

Could you do a story where Y/N Is taken in a hostage situation and we see more of a dark hotch? like that early episode where hotch and reid are hostages in the hospital?

TOO EMOTIONAL - A.H

a/n: thank you so much for requestin <3 i hope this is what you were wanting!

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: honestly yall i feel like this is way darker than anything i've written so far, not sure if its good or not but alas, mentions of blood, violence, unsub threatens reader with a knife and a lighter, mentions of sexual assualt (it doesnt happen just mentions of it), unsub cuts open readers shirt, hotch is a dick for a plot, hurt/comfort

wc: 1.4k

Your vision was blurred, you fought to focus as dried blood flaked from your lashes with each heavy blink. You swallowed a cough, the floor's cold concrete punishing your knees. The ties around your wrists and ankles were merciless, digging into your flesh. You tried to focus on the sounds around you — the drip-drop of water, the soft wail of distant sirens.

You caught glimpses of Hotch, his distinct cologne mingling with the warehouse's musty air. He was agonizingly close yet not close enough to touch. The unsub's footsteps were barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Only three cases in, and it seemed the universe was conspiring to reroute your career choice.

Frantically, you attempted to wipe your face on your shirt as the footsteps ceased before you and Hotch. The man was a ghastly figure, burns cutting from one side of his face to the other. You couldn't breathe.

"What a day to have feds come knocking." His voice was hoarse, fingers absently playing with a lighter.

"You know, they say the most intelligent criminals are the ones who don't get caught, yet here we are," Hotch said, his chin defiantly up, words sharp and calculated.

Suddenly, the unsub was right there, his disfigured face uncomfortably close, the heat from the lighter singeing your skin. His breath was a hot, sticky assault, and you fought the instinct to flinch.

"Smart men don't leave witnesses, and I intend to be very smart about this."

The foundations of your training flitted across your consciousness, the methodologies for keeping control of the situation, but they sifted through your fingers like said, rendering you paralyzed.

"Take her then. She's new, inexperienced. Probably more trouble than she's worth." Hotch's voice was cold, jarring like a slap to the face, his expression empty of emotion.

You strained to keep your face impassive, your eyes darting to Hotch, pleading for his attention. Your breaths were shallow, scarcely there. He had to be bluffing. You felt sick. The unsub shifted his weight, scrutinizing you both, edging closer to hotch, no doubt with suspicion.

The unsub laughed, a cold and calculating sound as he circled around Hotch. "You expect me to believe you'd turn on your own that quickly? I'm not a fool."

"Look at her and tell me what her worth is to me." Hotch's voice was even, almost bored. "She's a liability. Too emotional, too soft." 

His words were flung carelessly, yet they landed with precision, straight into your chest. Your teeth punished the inside of your cheek.

The remarks were like sharp barbs to your chest, instilling a hollow feeling as you attempted to convince yourself that the wetness on your lashes was anything but tears. His assessment was not unfounded. Your empathy, your sensitivity, traits deemed too tender for the harsher realities of your job, were now being used against you. Hotch had always been an exception, until now.

"Well, I could see her worth in other ways." The man's words oozed contempt, his gaze crawling over you in a way that threatened to turn your stomach. "I bet that's how she got the job in the first place, huh?"

"What do you think?" Hotch's laugh was a sinister match to the unsub's. He tilted his head in your direction. "Look at her. That's all she's been good for."

Your breath caught in your throat, your body turning as much as the ties would permit in Hotch's direction. You could almost hear your heart shattering, could feel it in Hotch's inability to face you. Was this a plan or had he truly discarded you?

You never deluded yourself into thinking you were Hotch's favorite, his reserved interactions with you made that abundantly clear. In fact, you were probably his least favorite. He had kept you at an arm's length, while seemingly forging bonds with the others that didn't seem to extend to you.

This was all within reason, given your inexperience and younger age, but the disdain lacing his words was unexpected, shredding through any pretense of professional detachment.

Hotch had never wanted you on the team, it was Rossi who had vouched for you. And now, look where that got you both.

Maybe this was all deserved.

"Then you won't mind if I try her out for myself?" The unsub's insinuation felt like a perverse validation of Hotch's doubts. 

A low hum escaped the unsub as he closed the distance, his gaze predatory. You stilled, breath caught as he produced a knife from his pocket, skimming your cheek just shy of cutting. You were scared and you were scared to show it. Desperately, you looked to Hotch, the blade now hovering precariously close to your sternum.

Hotch wouldn't look at you. You wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something, but that was all shoved to the bottom of your throat as the unsub sliced down the middle of your shirt, exposing your chest and compelling your gaze to it. Tears of humiliation prickled your eyes. How could Hotch let this happen to you?

The unsub's clammy grip clung to your waist, your lips trembling as you prepared for the worst. You closed your eyes, escaping to your house in your mind — tea brewing, fireplace going — anywhere but here.

A sudden splatter to your face jolted you back, eyes opening in alarm you saw Hotch's eyes, not the unsub's.

"You're okay, you're okay," Hotch murmurs. 

The words did little to comfort you, his hands moving blindly to release the binds at your wrist and ankles. Looking down, you see the unsub, knife through his back, blood pooling around him. Hotch's hands are on your wrists, his thumbs massaging away the sting. 

When your hand touches your face, you feel the splatter from earlier, coming back away with a smear of blood on your fingertips. 

Your voice felt like it was a prisoner inside yourself, words and sounds slipping past you like ghosts. A persistent ringing in your ears muffled all but the pungent scent of the warehouse, which clawed at your senses. 

You felt the jostle of hands, the motion of being lifted, a sensation so distant it barely registered. The world was a smear of lights and faces — the team showing up, the paramedics — until it slowly came into focus. 

You barely registered that Hotch was speaking to you, his words indistinct and muffled.

"What?" you asked, your speech slow to form and blurred at the edges.

You had a jacket over the front of you, his jacket, covering your exposed chest.

Hotch's eyes were pools of worry as he grasped at your hand. It was weird, the feeling of his hand in yours. You realized that was the first time you had felt it. 

"More water?"

You could only nod, and he promptly fetched a bottle, twisting it open and placing it in your hand. You took a small sip. 

"It's too loud," you mumbled, you were aware you weren't making sense.  You shifted to face him, your knee grazing his thigh. "Did you mean those things you said?"

"Of course I didn't mean it," Hotch replied quickly, his gaze intense. "You thought I meant that?"

Your gaze dropped to your lap, voice faltering. "I don't know... I wasn't sure, I mean, no, but I just... I don't feel very useful, and this whole mess, it's because of me and I —,"

Tears interrupted you, your hands fumbling to hide them. Hotch reached out, gently turning your face to his, thumb brushing away the tears. 

"Hey, look at me. Don't say that. This isn't your fault. Nothing I said back there was true. I needed to distract him, had to make him concentrate on you."

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying like this," you stammered between sobs. 

"You don't have to apologize. You're crying because you've been through a lot. Just breathe, take your time."

You managed a wobbly smile. "You hit the nail on the head with the too emotional part," you sniffled.

Hotch gave a small chuckle. "Your compassion, your sensitivity, it's what sets you apart as an agent, in fact, it makes you an outstanding one."

You were close now, your gaze inadvertently drawn to his lips. You could kiss him if you wanted. Not that you were in the right headspace or that it was appropriate. But you could've.

"Oh, my goodness, I'm so glad you're okay!" You were barreled into a hug, the familiar voice and blur of color of Penelope enveloping your senses.

Hotch cautioned, "Watch her head." 

With Penelope's hands around you, you found yourself looking over her shoulder, locking eyes with Hotch. His gaze held a new light, a recognition that maybe, just maybe you weren't Hotch's least favorite agent after all.

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