#he even walks around the room a bit

[the-northern-continent]

By far the wildest thing about Solas’ disapproval conversation is that he has it in the rotunda. I am concerned you may be developing a god complex, anyway let’s discuss this directly under the 20ft tall mural of your legendary deeds.

(Careful there, Solas. Someone might mistake you for a pride demon playing with his food.)

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

firm believer in darry who is constantly begging the boys for peace n quiet but is INSTANTLY paranoid the second he gets it

[bravevolunteer-a]

breaking my silence. i really do not like the idea of the sister location warehouse being underneath the afton house

[aroaceautistictherianmikewalters]

ahhhahahaha. heeemheem whimper. heemjeemwhimper. hahahaahahaaha ahahaha aahahhaa. i really am less of a person compared to others

[soapysoapysoapysoapy]

taking one (& another & another & another) for the team | soap x reader x ghost | inspired by: @softaestluv johnny's pent up blurb

It started as a joke. "I'm gonna die if I don't get my cock wet soon," Johnny whined, sprawled backward over the couch, legs spread, hand draped over his forehead like he was seconds away from his last breath. *"Swear I can feel it in my fucking molars, mate. I'm gonna explode."

At first, you and the others ignored him. Typical Soap — loud, dramatic, a walking sexual frustration PSA. But it didn't stop. If anything, it got worse: every mission debrief, every meal, every late-night sit around the barracks, Johnny lamented his poor, poor cock like it was a national tragedy.

When he started describing how tragic his wanks were — "My hand's too fuckin' rough, not the same, need something wet, something tight—" — you snapped. Loud enough for everyone in the room to hear: "Christ, Soap, I'll fuckin' take one for the team if it'll shut you up."

Johnny sat up like you'd just offered him oxygen.

Which is how you found yourself bent over the nearest flat surface, jeans yanked halfway down your thighs, Johnny pressed tight to your back, rutting into you like a man possessed.

"Fuck—fuckin' hell, love, yer savin' my life," he groaned, hips slamming into you like he was trying to crawl inside. "Warm 'n tight, fuck, could stay here forever."

You barely bit back a moan, hands braced hard enough to hurt. You weren't supposed to enjoy this, just do your duty to the squad’s sanity.

But then Johnny started whining again — not his usual loudmouth bitching, but these needy, half-choked sounds against the back of your neck.

"Need ya," he rasped, like he couldn't help himself. "Need yer cunt, fuck, not gonna be enough, need it again—'m not done—"

Even after he came — hot, messy, filling you to the brim — he didn't stop. Still rocking against you, still murmuring desperate filth into your skin, already hardening inside you again.

You realized then: You hadn't fixed the problem. You'd made it worse.

He barely pulled out before he was pushing right back in, thick and slick with his own cum, grinding into your overstretched walls like he could merge the two of you if he tried hard enough.

"Fuckin' perfect," Johnny slurred against your neck, teeth scraping along your skin. "Mine now, y'know that? Filled you up good—fuckin' claimed you—"

You tried to push him off, half-hearted at best — muscles trembling, brain fogged from how full you felt — but Johnny just wrapped an arm around your middle and held you there, hips rolling slow and filthy, fucking his own mess deeper inside.

"Nuh-uh, love," he muttered, pressing kisses to your shoulder, messy and possessive. "Said I'd lose my mind if I didn’t get to fuck you. Y’think one load's enough to fix this? After all that sufferin’?"

You whimpered, feeling his cock twitch again, fully hard despite just cumming. He chuckled low against your skin, voice dark and wrecked.

"Told ya I'd go mad. Now yer stuck with me, sweetheart."

He fucked you slow the second time — not like the frantic, desperate slamming from before, but a grinding, possessive rhythm, like he had all the time in the world to ruin you properly. Every time you clenched around him, he gasped, praising you in that ruined, filthy brogue.

"That's it, good girl," he breathed. "Take it all, take it like y'made for it. Fuckin' born to milk my cock, huh? Gonna pump you so full you won't remember what it feels like to be empty."

You felt him bulge even thicker inside you, grinding down into your cervix, every thrust stretching you wider, making you feel owned in a way that had nothing to do with orders or duty.

Johnny growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin. You barely registered it before he was moving — hands gripping your hips, manhandling you onto your back like you weighed nothing.

"Wanna see," he panted, almost delirious. "Wanna see how fuckin' ruined you are for me."

Your legs were shoved open before you could think to protest, ankles tossed over his shoulders. Johnny leaned back just enough to look — and groaned, obscene and ragged.

"Fuckin' hell, look at that," he hissed, watching his cum leaking out of you, your cunt red and puffy, still clenching greedily around nothing. His cock throbbed in his hand, still wet, still ready.

"So messy, love. Drippin' for me already. Y'know what that means, don’t ya?"

You shook your head weakly, breath stuttering in your chest. Johnny just grinned, all teeth and danger.

"Means I’ve gotta fill you up again. 'Til you can't take any more."

Without warning, he lined himself up and pushed — forcing his cock back inside your sore, sloppy cunt in one thick, slow thrust. You cried out, back arching, and Johnny moaned like you were his whole damn salvation.

He didn’t give you a chance to breathe. Started fucking you immediately — deep, grinding strokes that had your whole body jolting with each brutal snap of his hips.

"That's it, that's it," he gasped, head tipping back, sweat dripping down his temple. "Take it all, pretty thing. Gonna make sure yer stuck full of me. Walkin' round leakin' my cum for days."

Your brain barely worked anymore. Just open-mouthed whimpers, toes curling, walls spasming around him like you wanted it — wanted everything he was giving you and more.

Johnny's pace turned frantic again, slamming into you harder, the sound of skin against skin filthy and wet between you.

"Belong to me now," he growled, words punching out of him with each thrust. "No one else. Fuckin' mine."

You couldn’t even pretend to fight it. Couldn’t think past the way he filled you so perfectly, the overwhelming heat, the way his cock dragged along every sensitive spot inside you until you felt tears spring to your eyes.

He buried himself to the hilt one final time, grinding down against you, hips jerking as he spilled deep again, thick and endless. You could feel it — the heat, the stretch, the way he pulsed inside you like he was branding you from the inside out.

Johnny didn’t pull out. Just collapsed over you, mouth hot and messy against your jaw, still twitching inside your wrecked cunt.

"Fuck," he whispered hoarsely. "Still not enough. Need you again, love. Gonna fill you 'til you’re round with me, swear it."

Johnny stayed buried in you for a long moment, hips grinding lazy, slow circles, as if trying to force every last drop even deeper. You could feel it leaking out around his cock — hot, sticky, obscene — and you whimpered, overstimulated and wrecked.

Johnny noticed immediately. Growled against your throat, feral.

"Leakin'," he muttered, almost offended. "Can't have that. Gotta keep it all in, love. Need you drippin’ full for me."

He finally, finally pulled out — and the flood of cum that gushed out made you sob, weak and broken. But Johnny didn’t give you a second to recover. He dropped between your legs, shoving two thick fingers inside you without warning, curling them deep and obscene, scooping the mess back up.

"No wastin' it," he rasped, fucking his cum right back into your cunt with slow, filthy thrusts. "Take it all, greedy girl. You fuckin' need it."

Your legs kicked weakly at the overstimulation, but Johnny just grinned — wild and unhinged — before spreading you wider, his thumb pressing down hard on your clit while he stuffed you full with his fingers.

"Gonna breed you proper," he whispered hoarsely. "Fill you so deep you’ll be round with me. Belly all heavy, stuffed full of my fuckin' load—"

You sobbed, hips rolling despite yourself, body desperate for more even as your mind shattered into static. You should have known it’d be like this — Johnny didn’t do anything by halves.

He leaned down, mouth dragging messy, possessive kisses along your trembling stomach like he could will it to swell.

"Mine," he murmured. "All fuckin' mine."

And that’s exactly when you heard the door creak open. You barely had the strength to lift your head, vision blurry — but you saw a tall shadow in the doorway.

Ghost.

He stood there, silent, unreadable behind his mask — just watching. Johnny didn't stop. Didn’t even slow down. He curled his fingers inside you again, making you cry out, making more of the mess spill down your thighs.

Ghost's head tilted slightly, almost curious.

"Problem?" Johnny barked over his shoulder, voice wrecked but cocky as hell. Like he wanted Ghost to see — to know.

Ghost said nothing. Just crossed his arms slowly over his broad chest.

Johnny smirked and turned his attention back to you, dragging his fingers out with a wet squelch just to stuff them right back in — slow and possessive.

"That's right," he said lowly, clearly for Ghost’s benefit now. "Had to take care of it myself. Filled her up so good she's fuckin' leaking. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?"

You whimpered in response — too broken, too full, too wrecked to argue.

Ghost watched you for a long, heavy moment — chest rising and falling — before he spoke, voice flat and unreadable: "You better clean up after yourself, Soap."

Then, calmly — without another word — Ghost shut the door behind him with a click.

Johnny barked out a wild, breathless laugh against your stomach. "Come to help, mate?" he panted, fingers still lazily dragging through the wrecked mess of your cunt. "Think she needs it. Poor thing's so fuckin' stuffed already, can't hold it all."

Ghost didn’t answer. Didn't need to.

He stalked closer, heavy boots thudding against the floor, until he was standing right at the edge of the bed — looming over your trembling body. You watched through blurred eyes as he popped the button on his cargo pants, dragging the zipper down slowly, deliberately.

Johnny shifted you slightly, spreading your legs even wider, thumbs digging bruises into your hips to keep you open — presenting you like a ruined offering.

"C'mon, Ghost," Johnny muttered, voice rough and wild. "Don't leave the girl waitin'. Look how pretty she is—drippin' fuckin' ready."

Still silent, Ghost wrapped a hand around the base of his cock — thick, flushed, already leaking — and lined himself up.

He didn’t ease in. Just pressed the fat head against your already-used, dripping hole and pushed.

You screamed, body arching off the bed, overwhelmed instantly by the stretch, the pressure, the unbearable fullness of taking another man inside you without even a second to adjust.

Ghost let out a low, broken sound, not quite a grunt, not quite a moan, and buried himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

"There we fuckin' go," Johnny whispered against your ear, laughing breathlessly. "Take him, love. Take us both."

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

Ghost fucked you without mercy — slow, devastating thrusts that forced Johnny’s mess and his own spit to spill down your thighs in filthy, wet streams. He said nothing — just breathing harshly through the fabric of his mask, hands brutal on your hips, using you like a living, breathing fucktoy.

Johnny kept whispering filth into your ear — encouragements, praises, commands — while Ghost destroyed you from the inside out.

"That's it, good girl," Johnny crooned, petting your hair while Ghost slammed into you. "Take it like you were fuckin' made for it."

You felt your mind fracturing — pure overstimulation, pure broken pleasure — as Ghost fucked you harder, grinding deep, his cock stretching you to the point of tears.

And then Johnny shifted again — ducking low between your legs to lick around where you were stuffed full, his tongue dragging over your overstretched rim every time Ghost pulled out just a fraction.

"Fuckin' hell," Johnny gasped, almost reverent. "Look at that, Ghost. Cunt's swallowin' you like she needs it."

Ghost let out another low, broken sound — and picked up the pace. The bed creaked violently under you, your body jolting with every brutal, punishing thrust.

You could feel it building — some dark, overwhelming climax you couldn’t fight — tightening low in your stomach, burning up your spine.

Ghost suddenly reached down and gripped your throat — not tight, just heavy, possessive — and that was it.

You shattered. Clamping down around him so hard Ghost actually groaned, thrusts going sloppy, brutal. And then you felt it — hot, thick, spilling deep inside you, Ghost’s cock pulsing violently, joining Johnny’s mess inside your ruined cunt.

You lay there twitching, barely conscious, as Ghost finally pulled out — slow, heavy — and watched as his cum immediately leaked out after him.

Johnny's hand was already there — catching it, stuffing it back inside you with lazy, satisfied fingers.

Ghost pulled his gloves back on silently, redressing with mechanical efficiency. Said nothing. Before he left, he pressed one gloved hand to your trembling thigh — firm, approving — and then disappeared out the door without a word.

Johnny leaned down over you, brushing your hair back from your sweaty forehead.

"Told ya, sweetheart," he whispered with a wicked grin. "Was gonna fill you proper."

And from the ache in your gut and the obscene mess between your thighs —you knew he wasn’t lying.

Morning hit like a slow, heavy sledgehammer.

You barely even remembered falling asleep — just flashes: Johnny fucking his cum deeper into you with lazy, loving thrusts while you sobbed into the sheets; Ghost’s heavy hand gripping your thigh one last time before disappearing without a word.

Now your entire body ached. Your thighs were sore, trembling even at the slightest twitch. Your pussy was a wreck — raw, swollen, still leaking a slow, lazy drip of milky white that soaked into the crumpled sheets beneath you.

You tried to shift — to roll onto your side — and whimpered immediately. Everything hurt. You could feel the mess drying on your skin, inside your cunt, coating your thighs.

And Johnny, of course, was already awake.

He lay stretched out beside you, arms tucked behind his head, a smug, satisfied smirk spread wide across his face.

"Mornin’, sunshine," he drawled, voice rough from use, eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Sleep well?"

You glared at him weakly, too exhausted to even muster words. Johnny just grinned wider.

"Y’look wrecked," he said cheerfully, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from your sweaty forehead. "Proper job, that."

You tried to move again — a pathetic, sluggish attempt — and Johnny laughed, full-bodied and warm.

"Aw, poor thing. Can’t even fuckin' walk, huh?"

His hand drifted down — over your collarbone, the bruises he’d left, the fingerprints, the possessive marks — until he palmed your lower belly, pressing down just slightly.

You gasped, muscles clenching reflexively around the lingering mess inside you.

Johnny's grin turned wolfish.

"Still full, are ya?" he murmured. "Good girl. Holdin’ it all for us."

He sat up slowly, bare chest gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat, and pulled back the sheets.

You whimpered as cool air brushed your ruined, sore cunt — thighs automatically trying to close, to hide yourself.

Johnny tsked softly, spreading you open with two rough hands like you were something precious to be displayed.

He hummed low in his throat — a sound of satisfaction.

"Ghost’ll be pleased," he muttered, almost to himself.

You blinked sluggishly at him, confused.

Johnny chuckled and gestured toward the nightstand. There ��� sitting neatly next to a bottle of water — was a simple piece of paper. No name. No explanation. Just three short words, written in Ghost’s heavy, blocky scrawl: “Hold it in.”

Your heart hammered painfully in your chest.

Johnny laughed again — delighted, wrecked — and leaned down to press a filthy, claiming kiss to the inside of your trembling thigh.

"Guess we’re not done after all, love," he whispered against your skin. "Orders are orders."

And from the wicked glint in his eye, you knew you weren’t getting a break anytime soon.

[phagodyke]

worked an hour extra bc they have no respect for my half day but I knew they were gonna do that so whatever..... at least I'm omw home now

[hballegro]

I had a dream where there was a murder mystery and some of the suspects were Obama, the couple from Ruthless People, Scott Bakula [like, present day, not QL era], three people from my middle school, and like half my immediate family, and upon getting an ending I didn't like [Scott was the killer] I woke up, remembered 90% of the dream including a final chase sequence, decided that ending SUCKED and I didn't wanna be awake yet, fell RIGHT back asleep, and returned right back to my fuckin dream and got a different ending that I now cannot remember [it wasn't any of the people I listed, but I also can't really remember who it was? It was a guy, and he was affluent, but I dont remember rip]

You WISH you were me

[sugucide]

two weeks.

it's been two weeks since kento has been inside of you. He's gone months, hell even years without sex before he met you and he was fine. he didn't even wish for it like most of his bachelor counterparts did.

but now that he's had a taste of you? two weeks may as well be a death sentence. which is ironic, giving the nature of this sex ban. everything you do is inviting: maybe it's just his underworked sex drive or maybe he's reverted back to his teenage years because he sure does feel like an impatient, entitled brat whenever you walk past him.

he can smell you. not the smell of your perfume you spritz on each morning. not the product in you hair. not the moisturiser you use. but you, the scent of your self, your body, the skin he's so often inhaled as he bit down between your thighs or up the column of your neck. he can smell the memories of sex, sweaty and tangled in pheromones and all things primal.

he can hear you. not your words or laughter or the way you hum absentmindedly when you're pottering around the house. he can hear that sharp little intake of breath when you accidentally, or not-so-accidentally, brush against him. he can hear that whining tinge to your voice when you tell him you won't sleep with him, that you're punishing him, as if its moreso a punishment for you than him. he can remember the way you'd moan for him, desperate and glassy eyed and oh so perfect for him as he ruins you from the inside out.

he can't take it anymore.

"two weeks is more than enough time for me to think about my actions," he tells you over dinner one night, eyes cast downwards at his plate. "...and to come up with a suitable apology."

you place your chopsticks down at his last words and look up at your husband. "oh? let's hear it then."

over the frames of his glasses, kento's eyes meet yours. "i apologise for worrying you and risking my life for my work."

you tap your fingers against the table. "and will you continue to do it?"

"yes," he admits. "it's my job, one that i do well. if i die doing it, i hope it's in place of someone who didn't sign up for it, like you."

kento reaches over the table and takes your hand. "i can't just stop being a sorcerer. that would be too selfish of me. but i do promise that i will make more of an effort to reduce my chances of getting hurt from now on: no more unnecessary risks. okay?"

though that was all you needed to hear from him, you start to wonder if lifting the sex ban was a good idea when your pent-up husband is swiping plates from the dinner table to make room for you to lay back on it. claiming he can't wait the few extra second to carry you to the bedroom, he has you stripped and laid bare on the dining room table in no time, and he's ready for his meal.

"missed her," he mumbles as he parts your legs with a strong hand and bends down to kiss once at your clit. that's about and gentlemanly as it gets, though, because soon after he's making out with your pussy like he's a virgin. no technique, no precision, nothing but unfiltered need and its so much hotter than you'd imagine it to be.

eyes locking onto yours from between your thighs, he adds two fingers and works you open. two weeks was a long time for the both of you, so he'll need to get you used to the stretch of him again. he scissors his fingers inside of you, curls them upwards to hit your g-spot and smirks like a saint when your back arches off the table in response.

"missed you ken," you ramble on as your climax nears. "missed you so much. hated doing this. love you. loveyouloveyou god i love you."

you cum hard, harder than you've cum in a long time and kento laps it up like he's never tasted anything so good. he savours your taste on his tongue like he would an aged wine, something expensive and delicious and worth keeping bottled. though he's harder than diamond and worried he'll cum in his pants if he doesn't sink inside of you soon. so he stands and undoes his belt in record time (with those lovely hands of his) and repositions you at the end of the table with his leaky cock already pressing against your wet entrance.

he leans over you and shares a kiss with you as he pushes in. he inhales the gasp you let out at the stretch and moans into your mouth as a gift in return. he pulls out almost entirely, so it's just his head nestled in your tight pussy, and then slams in again. hard.

"god kento—" you start, about to chide him for being so rough with you when you notice his face dip into your neck and the sudden warmth filling you from the inside. kento's hips stutter and he bites at the skin of your shoulder to muffle the heavy moans that ache to free themselves from his chest.

"did you just—"

"don't," he cuts you off, cock twitching inside of you with his release. he's plugging you up, keeping you full of him and his cum. "give me a minute and i'll fuck you so stupid that you forget that just happened."

"you just—"

"don't laugh."

"im not laughing! it's just, you know like our first time..."

"shut up." kento's hips pull away and then slam back into yours as he starts a brutal pace with you.

that shuts you up good.

[dawnfire12]

Day off with the Saja Boys

Pairing: Saja Boys (Kpop Demon Hunter) X You (female)

Summary: You are the boys’ manager and you all deserve a day off. What you consider a day off is different than what they consider a day off. You want to pamper yourself and sit in a sauna, relaxing your body. Well the boys have other plans in mind for your body 😉

Warning: 18+ (mdni!), explicit smut content, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie, multiple orgasms, all consensual.

A/N: I haven’t proofread it at all lol. I hope you enjoy it! And as requested by @noyeahhh

You wake up by nature's alarm clock with the sun passing over your eyelids. You stretch, getting up and looking at the time. 7:00 am, even on a day off you can’t help but wake up early. You go to your bathroom and brush your teeth so you can eat as your stomach growls loudly. You shuffle into the shared kitchen that you have with the saja boys. As their manager, it’s just easier to live in the same space as them.

You yawn and see Baby on the couch. Just like his name, he’s always up the earliest. 

“Hi Baby.” You wave.

He looks up at you and beckons you over. You collapse next to him on the couch and he wraps his arms around your waist, putting his head on your chest. 

You pet his back, "Did you sleep well?”

He nods and moves his head towards your neck where you are sensitive. His breath makes you wiggle.

“That tickles.” You whisper.

He grins and starts kissing your neck. You hum, extending your neck a bit and stroking his hair. He’s always affectionate in the morning. His kissing turns to sucking and you let out small sighs. He brings your hand down to his clothed dick that’s hard and you push his boxers down to stroke his dick. You lean forward to spit on it to lube up your hand to make it more pleasurable for him. You set an even pace and he whimpers in your ear and ruts into your hand. His hand travels to your little silk shorts and rubs you through them.

You moan,”Baby, it’s too early.”

“I need you.” He begs. 

You sigh,”Baby.”

He pulls down your shorts and places two fingers into your damp pussy. He opens you up with a scissoring motion against your walls making his fingers become even wetter. 

You moan quietly, "Everyone is sleeping.”

He withdraws his fingers and turns you over so your face is in the cushion and your ass is up. He thrusts into you at a fast pace that has you gripping the cushions and using them to muffle your moans.

“I just need to feel you.” He moans.

Even though your moans are quiet, the slapping of the skin is loud. He places one hand on your hair, making sure your head stays down and in a way using you as his only fleshlight. 

“Ah, ah, ah! You feel so good! I just want to stay in you!” He whimpers.

He rubs your clit, making you cry out.

“Please cum! I need to feel you cum so bad! It feels so good when you cum! Squeezing my dick!” He begs you. 

It doesn’t take long for your legs to tremble and clamp down on his dick while your orgasm crashes over you.

“Ah! Yes! Just like that! So good! Mhmm!” He moans and climaxes.

He pumps into you a few more times before pulling out and pulling your shorts and his back on. 

You huff out air, “Well now I need a shower.”

He looks at you with puppy eyes, "Thank you!”, as if he’s an innocent child. As if he wasn't just pounding you a few moments ago.

You get up from the couch and start to walk towards your room when another door opens. It’s Mystery wearing a silver silk set of pjs, almost like yours. You hope he didn’t hear the activity in the living room.

“Good morning.” You whisper to him.

He waves and drags you into the room. He closes the door behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing you. You let out a gasp of surprise and wrap your arms around his neck. He starts walking backwards towards his bed and sits on it. You follow to the point where you are standing in between his legs and he’s leaning up to kiss you. He leans away from you, breaking the kiss and forces you on your knees. He takes out his fully erect cock.

“You heard us in the living room?” You ask.

He nods, "Made me so horny. Now you have to fix it.”

He strokes himself a few times, staring at you. You lick your lips and lean over to place his cock in your mouth. You breathe in through your nose as you take his dick in your throat. He groans and it vibrates in your mouth. You moan back. You start moving your mouth up and down, hollowing your cheeks and moving your tongue along his shaft. 

He moans, "Just like that baby.”

You suck faster, not wanting to disappoint him and brush the tip with your tongue a few times. He hisses and starts grabbing your hair, moving his hips up. You gag a little, causing you to moan and grab onto his thighs.

“Fuck yes! I’m gonna cum down your throat! And you will drink. Every. Drop.” He enunciates as he thrusts into your throat. 

You cry out (muffled) as you feel the warm liquid hit the back of your throat. He pulls his dick out of your mouth and pulls you up to softly kiss you. He gives you slow pecks, tasting himself on his tongue and pulls down your shorts. 

“What are you doing?” You ask him as he brings you to sit on his thighs.

“I just want to feel you for a little.” He places his once soft dick, now already hard, into your pussy.

You dig your nails into his shoulders from the intrusion. He sinks you down all the way and you whimper. Once he’s fully in, you are trying to control your breath and he doesn’t move. He has every intention of leaving you to cockwarm him. He runs his hands up and down your back, making you shiver. The shivering has his dick move up into you a little bit and you moan.

The sound of your moan, his demon nails come out and dig into your hips. Without warning, he pulls up and slams you down on his dick. 

You cry out, "Mystery!”

He thrusts up into you and pulls your hair.

“I was gonna have you be a good girl and let you cockwarm me for a little but you couldn’t help it. Could you?” He asks.

You moan, "It’s not my fault.”

“Hmm. We will see about that.” He smirks and rubs your clit.

“Mystery!” You moan.

“Yeah! Yeah! Fuck! Clench on me just like that!” He keeps pounding into you. 

All you can focus on is how good his dick feels thrusting up into you and how your pussy is tightening that you know you aren’t going to last.

“Mystery! I’m gonna cum!” You warn him.

“Yes! Cum!” He moans and you follow his command. He thrusts a few more times, unable to fight the tightening of your walls and fills you up.

“Jesus!” You exhale as you come down from your high. 

He kisses your cheek, "You should probably shower with all the cum in you.”

You glare at him, "I wonder who’s fault that is.”

He kisses you again and untangles himself from you. You leave his room, entering yours and jumping straight into the shower. Who knew that this would be your life? Orgasming twice in one day by different boys. You need a raise.

The water is warm and relaxes your muscles. You sigh into the shower with your eyes closed, facing the water and feel a cool breeze behind you. You think maybe you left a window open and turned around to see Abby.

“Abby! What the hell!” You exclaim.

He smiles all goofy,”Hi!”

“Hello! Why are you in my shower?” You stare at him.

He smirks, "I want a turn.”

You gape at him. Next thing you know he’s picking you up, wrapping your legs around your waist and placing you against the tile while kissing you. He kisses like he is devouring your soul. His tongue suffocates you in a good way. You gasp at every pass his tongue makes and he trails down to your neck and to your boobs. He sucks on them one at a time, leaving hickies and leaving you gasping. He brushes one finger against your opening and sees you are dripping for him.

He impales you on his dick and gives you no time to adjust. He sets a brutal pace that has your mind scrambling and making you only moan. He is in you so deep and he is very thick. It feels so good to be stretched out by him.

“I knew this is what you needed.” He brags as he sucks on your tits.

You’re so glad he has such upper body strength because your body is giving up on its own strength based on how he is pounding into your pissy.

“Abby! Right there!” You cry out as he hits your gspot.

“I know how to make my girl cum!” He moans, "And I need you to cum on my cock now.”

You open your eyes, "I can’t just from this.”

He laughs, "Oh yes you will!”

He keeps hitting your gspot over and over again, making you see stars and leaning your head back against the wall, cumming so hard.

“Ah! Abby!” You cry out as he continues to fuck you.

“Told you so! Now take my cum!” He pushes up into you one last time, shooting his seed in you.

You lean your head on his shoulder as he slowly moves his hips a few times and takes out his dick, placing you on the floor. You grip his arms as your legs feel like jelly.

“Look at you all wrecked.” He licks his lips.

“Don’t lick your lips. I know what you’re thinking, get out.” You protest.

He holds up his hands and slips out of the shower room.

You lean your head against the wall. You just wanted to take a shower but can’t deny how you loved his dick. You clean yourself up, only wearing a robe and go to your room. Even though it’s supposed to be a relaxing day you can’t help but send some emails, ensuring that the events the boys have to go to are booked. At some point your eyes close with your laptop still on your lap.

The next time you open your eyes, you wake yourself up with a moan, gripping the sheets as you feel a tongue moving in you. You lean up as you feel another wave of pleasure through you and look down to see Romance eating you out. You barely have time to cry out his name as you cum on his tongue. He drinks up every bit you can give him.

He crawls up your body and kisses you, "Hi.”

“Hi.” You whisper back and brush your hand over his bangs.

You look over to see your computer closed and on the floor. He brings your face to look at him as he kisses you softly. You sigh and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He caresses your body like you’re made of glass and massages your thighs. He licks your neck and your boobs before making his way back down to your wet center. He places one finger in you to stretch you out a bit.

“So wet for me.” He hums before placing his hands over your head and thrusting in you.

He goes slowly, making sure to savor every moment in you. There’s no urgency, just the feeling of being connected. 

“Oh, my love.” He whispers against your lips.

Your whimper and clench around his dick.

“You’re so good! My pretty girl!” He starts moving faster, chasing down our orgasms.

Your legs tighten around his waist and your nails scratch down his back. One particular thrust has your head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth wide open with all the moans falling out.

“Cum my love! Milk my cock!” He circles your clit.

“Oh fuck! Romance! Please don’t stop! Ah! Right there! Please! Ah Romance!” Your walls clench on his cock as you cum.

“Yes! Yes!” He cums in you, lazily thrusting as he rides out his high. 

You whimper as he slips out of you. He grabs some of your clothes from the drawer, dresses you and kisses you softly. You blink up at him as you whisper a small thank you. He leaves your room and you follow to grab some food from the kitchen. However, once again, you are pulled into another room. Jinu has you pressed up against his locked door and doesn’t give you a chance to react as he furiously kisses you. He bites your lip and is digging his hands into your hips. 

He releases your mouth, giving you a chance to breathe before he lifts you up and has your legs around his waist. He presses you against the door and grinds against you. You throw your head back as he bites your neck. 

“Jinu!” You cry. 

With one hand, he keeps you up and pushes his pants down before pushing yours down.

He positions his dick in front of your center, "No need to prepare. I know you still have his cum in you.”

He thrusts up into you and sets a relentless pace. Your body moves up and down the door from the force of his thrusts. From this position, your clit is rubbed against his pelvis each time causing your legs to tighten harder against him. You’re so sensitive that your orgasm builds fast and you are seeing stars. 

“Fuck!” He cums after your walls squeezed him so tight.

You thought he would be done but he puts you on the bed and has you on all fours. He gives you no time to adjust and thrusts into you. Set at the same pace as before. He pulls your hair and you grasp at the covers.

“Look at you. Taking my cock so well” He praises.

You moan and your eyes flutter close.

“Uh nuh. Eyes open pretty.” He demands.

You open your eyes and see a mirror in front of you. You can see (and feel) how hard he is pounding against you and how wrecked you are starting to look.

“I bet you only look this wrecked on my dick, isn’t that right?”

You moan instead of an answer.

He yanks your hair a bit more, "Answer.”

“Yes Jinu!” You cry.

“Good girl!” He lets go of your hair and rubs your clit.

You try to squirm away but he holds you close.

“Be good. You know you want to cum.” He coos.

You start drooling, "Ah! Jinu! AH! Ah! Right there! Don’t stop! MMHPM!”

“Fuck!!!!” He cums in you as you start coming.

Your legs are twitching as he fills you. He pumps in you a few times and rests on your back, kissing it a few times. He pulls out and carries you to his bathroom where he has a tub of water already prepared. He slips in with you and washes you. He turns you to face him and kisses you softly. You open your mouth for him and he brings you closer and starts pulling you on his dick.

“No more.” You whisper.

His eyes pout, "Please just one more. Just wanna feel you.”

Before you can protest he’s slipping in. You can feel how thick and long he is in this position. He’s definitely the biggest and thickest dick out of all the boys. He thrusts into you, grabbing onto your hips and you can only hold onto his arms. You just started but by the way you have been cumming all day you know you can only last a few more moments.

“Jinu! I can’t! It’s too much!” You cry out.

He thrusts up even faster, making all the water splash around.

“Please just one more! I need you to cum again! Need to feel you squeeze my dick! I need you to be full of my cum! Only mine! Say your mine!” He begs you.

You sob, ”Yours Jinu!”

The next few thrusts have you over the edge and you cum so hard you black out for a moment. You come to when he cums in you for the last time that night. You blink in and out of consciousness, needing a full day of recovery after the sex marathon. You barely stay awake while he washes you up and tucks you into bed. 

The next morning you wake up sore but fully satisfied. You get up and lock your door to continue your work. You hear knocks at the door but ignore them. The boys whine and beg you to let them in. You know they could just come in with their powers, however, they respect that your door is locked. After a few hours, you venture into the kitchen to eat and see the boys in the living room.

You point a water bottle at all of them, "Listen. I’m human. I don’t have as much stamina as you guys. So please keep your dicks away from me for the next few days.”

The boys all pout and groan except for one member who doesn’t like the tone you took. 

As you walk back to the kitchen, a pair of arms wrapped around you and kisses your neck. You place your water bottle on the table and lean into the arms. While you are getting neck kisses, the person is grinding their dick into your ass. You whimper and turn in their arms.

“No more Jinu.” You say.

He responds with furious kisses and pulls your shorts down. He pushes you onto the table and has one of your legs up while he devours your pussy. His tongue moves in you like he’s trying to take your soul out from your pussy. You cry, grabbing his hair and leaning your head back on the table. While your eyes are closed from the pleasure, he pushes down his pants and pounds into you.

“Jinu!” You cry out.

His hips slap into yours hard and the whole table is shaking.

“I seem to recall you cumming a lot yesterday. Right?” He pants.

“Yes! Jinu!” You grip his arms.

“And now you say no more? That’s not your choice baby. I didn’t hear a thank you from all those times you came, did I?” He questions you. His nails and teeth turning sharp, the nails nip your hips leaving you with small scratches as he bites down on your neck.

You didn’t think you could moan any louder. It’s so hard to focus when he keeps hitting your gspot and touching your clit.

“You’re right Jinu!” You moan.

“You gonna tell me thank you?” He demands.

“Uh! UH! Yes! Ah! Thank you Jinu!” You wail.

“Good girl. Learning her manners. Cum for me again!” He summons a vibrator and places it on your clit.

The vibration makes you cum instantly and you see white. Your walls squeeze his dick so hard he has no choice but to cum in you. He slows down and stares at how delicious you look. You blink slowly and next time you open your eyes the boys are all surrounding you with their fully erect dicks out.

“You thought you were done? Well I’m going to keep fucking you as the boys take their turns having you suck their dick.” Jinu kisses your lips for reassurance.

It looks like the Saja boys will be taking another week to “rest”.

[holeforzenin]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ GIVING ROOMMATE TOJI A HONEY PACKET TO MAKE HIM HARD

You’re digging through the kitchen drawer for a pen but instead, you find a single, slightly crumpled honey packet— one of those ones from a diner Toji probably pocketed without even thinking.

That’s when the memory hits you: someone once told you honey boosts testosterone. Supposedly gets the blood flowing or something like that. You don’t know if it’s true but suddenly, you’re struck with the image of Toji randomly getting hard for no reason— looking all confused and irritated and the idea of teasing and laughing at him for being a confused old man is too good to pass up.

You find him at the kitchen table, slouched in one of the chairs with a pile of mail in front of him. He’s fresh off work, still in his dusty jeans and oil-stained shirt, arms looking way too good folded up like that. His hair’s a little messy with his bangs cascading down his forehead and slightly tickling his eyes. He smells like outside yet he still looks like sin.

You casually slide the honey packet across the table like it’s a top-secret document. He glances up. “What’s this?”

“Just try it,” you say softly, feigning innocence as you open the fridge for a drink. “Natural energy booster. Thought it might help after work, y’know?”.

Toji raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t question you. Just casually tears the packet open with his teeth and licks the honey off the edge like it’s nothing. You watch from the fridge, biting the inside of your cheek to hold in your laugh. It’s criminal how fucking good he looks doing something so simple. You grab your drink and vanish to your room before he can notice the grin creeping onto your face.

It takes a while but maybe thirty, forty minutes later, you hear him shifting around on the couch. You peek down the hallway— and fucking shit.

He’s still lounging there, TV on but he’s clearly not paying any attention. One hand is resting on his thigh, the other tucked under his head and his hips keep shifting. You freeze when you notice the obvious shape straining against the front of his sweats. It’s not subtle either— it’s blatant. The fabric’s tented, and he keeps adjusting himself with this irritated little scowl like he’s trying to figure out why he’s getting an erection without warning or doing anything.

You casually walk into the living room, trying not to beam. “You good?” you ask, doing your best to sound normal.

Toji grunts. “M’fine. Just—” He sits up a bit straighter because you were there, then glances down at himself. He frowns. “Dunno what the hell’s up. Got this fucking—”

He stops short, noticing your eyes lingering where they shouldn’t be. He tugs the hem of his shirt down over his crotch but it doesn’t do much. “You seeing this shit?” he mutters, looking genuinely confused. “Haven’t even been thinking about anything”.

You shrug, taking a sip of your drink. “Weird. Could be the honey,” you offer innocently. “You know, some people say it boosts testosterone”.

He stares at you. “You serious?”

You nod, lips twitching into a grin.

“…You gave me a fucking boner on purpose?” he says slowly, piecing everything together. You can’t help it. You burst out laughing like a immature child.

He rubs a hand over his face, groaning in annoyance. “Fucking brat,” he mutters, and when he stands up— yeahhh, there’s definitely no hiding it now. The fat bulge in his sweats is very prominent and you shamelessly glance down again.

He catches you.

“Oh, you like that?” he says teasingly, a slow smirk creeping across his face now. “All that just for you, huh?”

Your laughter dies in your throat. You did not think this far ahead. Toji takes a slow step toward you, still adjusting his sweatpants. “You think you’re real funny, sweetheart. Gonna be even funnier when I make you deal with it”.

You blink up at him, your heart racing.

“Still feeling like a joke to you?

You open your mouth to answer, but your brain has completely short-circuited. The taunting grin on his face grows wider when he sees the panic start to creep into your expression.

Toji watches you squirm for a second longer, then chuckles low in his throat, eyes glinting with amusement. “Look at you,” he murmurs, taking one more step toward you, close enough that you can feel the heat rolling off him and maybeeee even the tiniest hint of his hardened bulge pressed against your tummy, but you don't dare look down. “All flustered over a little blood flow”.

You glare at him, trying to muster a comeback, but he just leans down a bit, voice dropping conspiratorially. “Y’know, if you wanted to see my dick that bad, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask”.

Your jaw drops. “What?! I did not!”

He starts laughing— really laughing this time, the kind that makes his shoulders shake as he straightens back up and ruffles your hair like you’re a dumb little sibling who walked straight into a trap.

“Oh my fuck, your face,” he says between laughs. “Worth every second”.

“You’re the worst,” you hiss, shoving his arm annoyingly but he doesn’t budge.

“And you’re a little brat,” he throws back, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Giving a grown man unsolicited honey just to watch him pop a boner? That’s sick behavior, kid”.

“You didn’t have to eat it!”

“You slid it across the table like a damn drug deal!”

You try to storm off, but he catches your wrist gently just as you turn. You pause, blinking up at him again, and he just gives you a crooked smile and murmurs, “Next time you wanna see it, just knock”.

Your whole soul leaves your body.

He lets you go, snickering to himself as he flops back down on the couch like he didn’t just commit a crime against your sanity.

[plethorawrites]

Image how confused the entire Bat family would be if Jason— touch repulsed, wants to work alone, barely even tolerates them most days— Todd finally gets sucked into one of Bruce's charity events, only to come with a date who he *cannot* keep his hands off. I'm talking, has his arm draped around her waist or over her shoulder whenever they're walking, hugging her from behind with his jaw on top of her hair (carefully though, so he won't mess it up), occasionally randomly kissing the back of her hand, or her cheek, or very quickly her neck before she smacks him away playfully.

And the media LOVES this.

The reporters who usually bother Bruce about his company, Dick about his romantic life, Damian about school, Duke about being recently legally adopted, Cass about her improving speech skills, Tim about recent publicity statements, all suddenly leave them alone to take picture after picture of Jason and whoever his date is. And Jason—has threatened, attempted, and actually punched reporters— Todd doesn't even care. He doesn't bat an eye, (pun intended) because they should take pictures with how gorgeous she looks.

He'd be offended if they didn't.

And when she blushes, getting a bit shy after hearing a few too many clicks, he runs a hand up and down her arm, tearing her away from the buffet to dance. Dance. Yes, Bruce thought he'd lost his mind when he saw his son whisk a beautiful woman into the middle of the room, willingly, even eagerly wrapping his arms around her comfortably and familiarly, while she rests her head against his chest and he rests his cheek against the side of your head, his eyes fluttering shut every once in a while.

Of course, his family tried to get to talk to him, really, they did. Something or someone conveniently got in the way every single time, until the event is over and Jason and his date manage to slip out in the crowd before the family gets to interrogate him about it.

His phone? He has to shut it off from all the calls and texts that overwhelm his inbox. Alfred even sent an email.

When he eventually does pick it up after having it on do not disturb for a while, he simply types in the group chat, "You told me to bring a date." Before putting it face down on the nightstand and rolling over in bed to wrap his arms around her, kissing her temple softly as she sleeps, out of your fancy dress and in his arms, where she belongs.

[euno11a]

HEYYYYY SO I SAW YOU WAS DOING REQUESTS FOR KPOP DEMON HUNTERS

I loved the movie but the ending wasn’t what I was expecting and wanting😔

By any chance could you do the Saja boys in a poly relationship with reader? And separately the girls poly with reader?

I literally think it would be so much fun to have movie nights lmao and pull pranks on each other lmao😭💀

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ The “Current Boyfriend” prank on Jinu⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

———————————

Rehearsal had just ended, and the studio air was thick with leftover energy and heat. The mirrors were fogged, the sound system still humming with static, and Jinu—sweaty, flushed, and stunning—was casually sipping water near the doorway.

You pulled out your phone, pretending to check something. Really, you were framing the shot.

He looked over, brows raised. “Filming?”

You smiled. “Just something quick for the fans. Come here.”

He didn’t hesitate—just walked over, still catching his breath from that final run-through, his dark shirt clinging to his back. When he stood beside you, he leaned in slightly, effortlessly falling into idol mode: half-smile, perfect angle, soft gaze.

You started recording.

“Hey guys,” you said sweetly to the camera, smiling like it was any other fan update. “Just wanted to check in, rehearsal’s over—everyone’s tired, sweaty, gorgeous.”

You turned the camera slightly, panning over to Jinu.

“I’m here with my current boyfriend!”

You kept going like it was nothing, turning the camera back to yourself. “Anyway, we’re probably gonna grab food and chill for a bit—”

Behind you, Jinu tilted his head slightly.

“…What?”

You stopped.

“…What?” you echoed innocently, still filming.

He squinted. “Did you just say current boyfriend?”

You bit back a smile. “Yeah. Like, my boyfriend right now. In this moment.”

His eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in that dangerous, calm way Jinu did when he was calculating whether to flirt with you or mildly destroy your entire soul.

“You’ve had others lined up?”

You laughed, finally breaking. “It’s a trend! I was joking!”

He took the phone gently, still in frame, still smiling for the camera like nothing was wrong—but the glint in his eye had shifted.

“You heard her,” he said to the camera. “Apparently, I’m just a placeholder.”

“Jinu—”

He leaned in, eyes never leaving the lens.

“Just so everyone’s clear, I’m not going anywhere. So if I’m the ‘current,’ I plan on being the permanent upgrade.”

He stopped recording.

You stared at him.

“Babe, it was a trend—”

He handed your phone back with a knowing smile. “Post it.”

“…You’re not mad?”

“No,” he said smoothly, grabbing his bag. “But you’re paying for dinner.”

————————————————

@ sajaboysimps: “Current boyfriend” and he paused like a villain origin story. 😭😭😭

@ jinusjawline: She: “I’m with my current boyfriend!” Jinu: 🧍‍♂️❓

@ idolatemyheart: When he said “permanent upgrade” I blacked out.

@ softlaunchgonewrong: The way she kept talking like he wasn’t recalculating the entire relationship 💀💀💀

@ kpopdemonkween: Jinu really said “I’m calm but I will become your husband if you keep playing.” 💍🕶️

———————————

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ The “i forgot our anniversary ” prank on Baby⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

You had one goal: crack Baby’s fake-cool exterior.

The date was circled on your calendar in pink highlighter and glittery hearts — today marked your six months together. A fact you hadn’t forgotten. Not even close. You had the gift hidden, dinner planned, and a playlist queued.

But he didn’t know that.

So naturally… you decided to mess with him.

You strolled into the practice room like it was any other day, sipping your drink, phone in hand. Baby was lounging in a chair, jacket off, tank top on, towel draped around his neck. Hair tousled. Glistening post-workout glow. Casual heartthrob chaos.

“Hey,” he said, smiling without meaning to — one of those real ones, the rare kind.

“Hey,” you replied, completely flat. You sat beside him, scrolling through your phone. “Long day.”

He blinked. “Uh… yeah. Kinda.”

Silence.

He waited.

You offered him a sip of your drink. No affection. No flirt. No sparkle.

He narrowed his eyes. “You okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

He leaned in slightly. “You sure? You're being weird.”

You shrugged. “I’m fine.”

You saw it hit him — subtle but real. A flicker of confusion in his eyes. He looked away, biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying to solve a math equation with emotions.

Then… his voice dropped, quieter.

“Did I… do something?”

You glanced at him, feigning confusion. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, then reached into his jacket pocket — pulling out a tiny velvet box.

Your breath caught. Wait what.

He opened it slowly: a simple silver ring on a thin chain.

“I know we said we weren’t doing anything big for the six-month thing,” he said, eyes still down, “but I just… I saw this and thought of you. You like little things that feel permanent.”

Your mouth parted, guilt instantly slamming you in the chest.

He looked up. “Unless… you didn’t remember. Which is fine, seriously. I didn’t expect—"

“Wait, wait, wait—” you cut in, grabbing his hand. “It’s a prank. It was a prank. I remembered. I super remembered.”

His eyes widened. “You what.”

“I was trying to get a reaction out of you,” you admitted, laughing nervously. “You always play it so cool. I thought you’d be smug and say something like, ‘Guess who didn’t forget?’ and then I’d laugh and reveal the real gift and—oh my god you bought me jewelry.”

He stared at you. “You absolute gremlin.”

You reached into your bag and pulled out a box of your own, practically shoving it into his chest. “Here. Yours. Real. Not a prank.”

He opened it to find a silver bracelet, etched with the coordinates of where you first met.

He blinked slowly.

“…You’re disgusting,” he said, voice soft.

“You love it.”

He exhaled hard — then, finally, smiled for real. That wide, boyish grin he tried to hide behind eyeliner and sarcasm. His ears were bright red.

“You seriously had me spiraling,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Because you’re soft,” you teased.

He shot you a look. “No, I’m cool. I’m smooth. I’m mysterious.”

“You were ten seconds from emotional collapse.”

He leaned closer, bumping his forehead to yours. “And you love that.”

You smiled, lips brushing his. “I really do.”

——————————

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ The “Tiny Meal” prank on Romance⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The morning sunlight filtered softly through the paper screens of the dorm room, painting golden lines across the hardwood floor. The air was still, save for the slow, even breaths of Romance beside you—hair mussed from sleep, lashes casting gentle shadows over his cheekbones.

You tiptoed out of the futon with the kind of stealth usually reserved for a trained demon hunter. You had a plan. A dumb, tiny, hilarious plan. But it was your plan, and you knew he’d either love it… or mock you for it for weeks.

You tiptoed into the kitchen, stifling a giggle. On the counter: a thimble-sized teacup. A miniature plate. A fork no bigger than your pinky nail. It had taken you a whole hour to prep these ridiculous little dishes the night before. A tiny egg (quail, of course), a single bite of toast, and a speck of strawberry jam.

All perfectly arranged on the world’s tiniest breakfast tray.

As you walked back into the room balancing the tray, you heard the soft shuffle of sheets. His voice, low and drowsy, called out:

"Mmnh... [Your Name]? Where’d you go…?"

You knelt beside the futon, holding out the tiny tray like a prize. “Good morning, sunshine,” you said, biting back a grin. “I made you breakfast.”

He blinked sleepily, then squinted at the tray. A beat of silence. Then—

“…What the hell is that?” His voice cracked mid-laugh.

You giggled. “Your morning meal, brave hunter. Protein, carbs, love. All in one centimeter.”

He sat up, the blanket falling to his lap, revealing the curve of his collarbone and the sleepy slope of his shoulders. Hair sticking up wildly, he reached out one elegant finger to poke the mini toast.

“This is… is this even edible?”

You nodded solemnly. “I toasted that piece with my own hands. Used tweezers.”

A wide grin broke across his face. That lazy, lopsided one that always made your stomach flip. “You’re unbelievable.”

Then, with exaggerated seriousness, he picked up the miniature fork between his thumb and forefinger, tried to stab the tiny egg—and immediately dropped it back onto the tray.

“I can’t do this. I’m going to starve.”

You smirked, reaching behind you and pulling out a second tray—the real breakfast, full-sized and warm.

He laughed so hard he had to bury his face in your neck. “You’re evil,” he mumbled against your skin, arms wrapping around your waist.

“You love it,” you teased, letting your fingers slide through his hair.

He leaned back to look at you, his eyes still crinkled with laughter but softening into something tender. “I really do.”

And then, with the tiniest fork in hand, he fed you the equally tiny toast piece.

“For love. And carbs,” he whispered dramatically

———————————

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ The “ignoring my boyfriend” prank on Mystery⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The moment you stepped into the training room, you could feel his eyes on you.

Mystery was already there, like always — perched casually on the window ledge, his black hoodie draped over his shoulder, sword leaning against the wall behind him. His arms were crossed, expression unreadable. He didn’t speak. He never did first.

Perfect.

You walked right past him without a word.

He watched you. Silent. Still. Barely blinking.

You pulled out your phone, scrolling with exaggerated focus. Inside, you were screaming. You knew he hated being ignored. Not in the way a normal boyfriend might pout or whine — no, Mystery just went quiet. Colder. Like ice packing itself around him.

It was part of why the prank was so fun... and a little dangerous.

He finally moved. Just one step.

“Did I do something?” he asked, voice low and distant, like a fog rolling across a lake.

You didn’t look up. Instead, you texted no one. Blinked blankly at the wall. Bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from cracking.

A long pause.

He tilted his head slightly, jaw tight. “...You’re not going to speak to me?”

You didn’t respond. Not even a shrug.

He stared at you for a few seconds longer. Then without a word, he turned and walked out of the room. No sound, no heavy footsteps — just vanished like smoke into the hall.

Your heart dropped.

“Mystery—!” you called after him, breaking character. You chased him down the corridor, nearly stumbling over your own feet.

You found him just outside the practice hall, his back to you, eyes shadowed under his bangs.

“I was joking!” you said breathlessly. “It was a prank. The ‘ignoring my boyfriend’ prank. You weren’t actually—wait, were you mad?”

He turned slowly, expression as calm as ever. But there was something just behind it — not anger, not even hurt, but a kind of distance. The kind that made your chest tighten.

“I wasn’t mad,” he said quietly. “I just figured you wanted space. So I gave it to you.”

Oof.

You stepped closer, reaching for his sleeve. “I didn’t mean to push you away. I just thought it’d be funny. You’re always so… unreadable. I wanted to see if you’d crack.”

His lips twitched — the smallest hint of a smirk. “So you were testing me?”

“Maybe a little.”

He finally turned to face you fully. “You didn’t get much of a reaction.”

“No,” you admitted. “But somehow, that made it worse.”

He stepped into your space, his voice a soft hush. “You want a reaction now?”

You nodded, breath catching.

Without warning, his hand cupped your chin gently, tilting your face toward his. His lips brushed yours, light as falling ash — but the intent behind it was unmistakable. Intense. Possessive in that quiet way only Mystery could pull off.

He pulled back just enough to whisper:

“Don’t ignore me again. I don’t like it.”

You blinked up at him, stunned.

Then he added, deadpan: “But if you do… make sure the next prank includes kissing.”

—————————

˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ The “I don’t think I like muscles anymore” prank on Abs⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

a/n: I just added the rest of the Saja Boys!!

[yan-randomfandom]

Wait! Can you do the Yanderes Saja boys x reader pls? Except the reader is aroace and isn’t a fan of Kpop

Saja Boys x GN!Reader

a/n; oh anon luckilyy i'm both of those things ☺️ BUT I'M SO SORRY since it's my first time writing them, i kinda lost the point n it turned to a character study MY BAD 😭😭 feel free to send a request again!

summary; the most common imagine for the Saja Boys right now—them finding a human manager. They find the human's company a little too enjoyable....

— 🥤 [not proofread]

During their debut, Soda Pop—the Saja Boys had a passive objective: find someone in the audience who wasn't even the slightest bit interested in them.

It was Mystery who noticed you first.

Among the crowd, you glanced at them like the rest. Paused and listened like the rest. However, unlike the rest, you pulled out your phone not to record—but to draw your attention, and eventually walk away.

Mystery memorized your face. After all, with how obsessed humans are with paperwork and management, they had to have someone deal with the annoyances just to make them seem like the real deal.

So, after their performance, your presence was mentioned. They ultimately deemed that you're the one who stayed the shortest.

Jinu approached you first.

But he was an absolute loser and couldn't keep his story straight (hundreds of years of human society blurred from his knowledge), leading the rest of the Saja boys impatient and embarrassed for him.

The next best thing they do?

Reveal themselves. Threaten you. It's either your soul goes, or your free will goes.

They're not exactly the smartest, for sure... that came from Jinu's thoughts.

Nevertheless, it worked. You work for them now.

When you first got into this mess, you thought you'd be scared for your life every single day.

"But now I'm stuck with attention-seeking, clingy, needy arrogant—"

A slim finger touches your lips in a silent gesture. You glare pointedly at the demon.

Romance's stupid face is smiling. "Sshh. You should smile more. Like this." He stretches his lips further. "See? You're so much prettier when smiling."

There's nothing to smile about. You only huff and roll your eyes before obliging—a forced, crooked smile that genuinely made him wince.

Ignoring that and turning around, you spot Baby rummaging through your fridge again. You notice how loud he was doing it too; he intentionally does that to get your attention when he couldn't find anything he liked.

"I have some popsicles in the freezer," you say, walking over and opening the top part. Baby perks up at the sight and chuckles. "Bunch of flavors."

"Always know what we need," he snickers as he casually grabs all of them.

You ignore that and sit on the counter with Abby who's fumbling with his shirt buttons. He stiffens at the sight at you and plays it cool with a smile.

"Jinu's out again, huh?" you hum, gently taking over his task a moment ago. He relaxes in your care.

"Yeah," he nods. "Only a matter of time until the big boss calls him again."

Hmm. You don't know how to reply that. So, you simply don't. They rarely tell you anything, and if they do, it's always something you'd never have any context of.

You slip the last button off and pat his chest. "Done."

Abby stands up, his shirt flying dramatically away at the same time. You squint your eyes at his exposed abs that he's clearly so proud of.

Despite yourself, a snicker escapes you. Abby smirks and traces his pec with his thumb. "Beautiful, is it not?"

Cornball.

"Hey, wait," you turn away, leaving Abby disappointed from your lack of response, "where's Mystery?"

Oh, no.

You rush to your room and almost slam the door open—

Great. He's laying on your bed. Again.

"Mystery!" you yelp, and he immediately sits up at your voice. "Out! Out!!"

He scrambles out of your bed and teleports away. You do a quick inspection on your bed—alright. Nothing damaged at the very least.

You swear—you had two rules for them to which they agreed to: one, keep their human form. Second, STAY OUT OF YOUR BEDROOM. You have a guest room for their resting needs.

You head back to your living room, seeing them all huddled up on your couch. Each one of them having a popsicle with unique flavors.

"Baby," you call, only to end up with all of them turning to you. Your face flushes. "Uh, Baby. Give me one too."

He throws you a surprisingly not melted popsicle with a sweet smile.

"Thanks," you smile back. Then an idea comes in. They all seem like they're in a fairly good mood, so maybe you can take a break—

You grab a jacket from the rack. "Anyway, I hope you guys don't mind, but I'll go for a walk in the park—"

"NO," all of them growl, you flinch, turning around to see their demon forms—an exception to rule 1 is that it will be broken when they're deadly serious.

"..OkayIwon't"

— 🥀

working with crumbs.... saja boys writers u guys r killing it... also huntrix too pelase

[lovegasmic]

𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬▶ 𝗩𝗛𝗦

HOT DILF NEXT DOOR ⭑.ᐟ

‘ toji fushiguro, kento nanami, satoru gojo x fem!reader ’ ୨୧ taglist

⌞ PG-18 ⌝ reversed version of hot milf next door ◞ age gap, all consenting adults◞ creampie except for kento ◞ they are actual dilfs not just older men◞ you cheat on your bf with satoru but he deserves it, and reader is a brat◞

this is long and I've had this request for longer, so take this as an apology for not posting anything new lately ‹3

𝜗𝜚 TOJI

of course another screw had to come loose from the cheap cupboard doors barely hanging on for dear life. you curse under your breath, wiping a drop of sweat that makes it’s way down your forehead and onto the cupid bow, “fuck this shit place” finding a good place as a student was no good, and it was either surviving in a struggling apartment or sharing living space at the school dorms where the air reeked of multiple fluids and body odors was not really an option.

and now, rummaging through the multiple still closed boxes laying on your living room to find a screwdriver was neither an option, “just kill me already” mustering up some courage, your feet drags you to the front door and towards the one next to it, hoping and praying that your neighbor is an actual nice person as your knuckles hit the wood, please, anything really, perhaps an older lady who can bake, or a lovely young student around your age who can—

oh.

that’s a freaking kid.

“hi, um..., are your parents home?” so freaking awkward, the kid looks at you unimpressed, barely blinking and dark hair sticking in all directions before he turns around.

okay, that was rude, but you’re about to speak again until he comes up, moving as if he owned the place, big muscles under a shirt a bit too tight, and that flat expression barely quirks up in what seems like a grin, “can I help you, doll?” and oh, again, that voice is enough to make your knees buck.

“h-hi, i moved next door, and uh—” shit, shit, “do you have a screwdriver I can borrow for a second?” did you even introduce yourself? that does not matter, and the man doesn’t seem to care, giving you an amused up and down look before nodding.

“got a problem with the cupboard already, huh? don’t worry I got a trick” isn’t this man such a gentleman? already gathering some tools and telling the kid, now called Megumi, to behave while he helped the cute girl.

he’s definitely flirting, yeah, it must be, those half grins, constant licks at the scar in the corner of his mouth and the way his eyes trail up and down your body when he thinks you’re not looking, that’s flirting, isn’t it?

just snap out of it, you’re not an eighteen year old anymore, you’re 20... not a big difference, but you should not be fantasizing about that man who is most likely married.

“... anything else?” his voice snaps you out of your stupor, now for good, but you know he’s aware, judging by the grin he offers.

“no, that’s all, thanks” you hope that will answer whatever he also asked, what you don’t expect is for his large body frame to walk up to you, a calloused thumb pressing on your jaw to tilt your head up.

he leans slightly, “no need to be shy, doll, neighbors are to help each other” and there is a trace of something else behind his words, something you can’t quite put into words.

a very slight gasp escapes your lips as his thumb runs down, gently caressing the column of your throat and collarbones, “you’re so pretty, a pretty girl like you must have a pretty name” and you utter it, rolling out your tongue for Toji to catch it with his own name in a shared breath.

Toji. Toji. Toji.

“Toji...! it’s nghhh... r-reaching oh, so deep!” who could have thought that ‘neighboors helping each other’ would have turned into ‘neighbors who rearrange your guts’.

it’s been a few days since the first time Toji helped you fix the furniture, which developed into some kisses, cock sucking and now almost a daily fuck, with quivering thighs with just how hard Toji’s cock rammed into your tiny hole, so fuckin’ wet and tight, struggling to accommodate the whole girth of the man’s huge cock sliding in and out deliciously deep.

there’s a whole package of condoms in your drawer, tucked under the remaining pair of panties Toji hasn’t ripped apart in attempts to reach your cunt faster.

“take it, fuckin’ take it” he huffs, cock twitching inside your velvety walls that cling to each vein and ridge around that fat and long dick, the couch drags across the floor with each one of the dark haired’s thrusts, having you bent, a tit out of the tank top, panties swinging around an ankle and toes curled in sheer bliss. that man knows how to fuck.

and his hand is everywhere, one is holding your shoulders to brutally pull you back so your pussy lips spread vulgarly on each side of his balls, while the other entrained itself by pinching a nipple, tugging your tits and groping the fat of your ass, a low whistle comes next at the sight of your tiny hole stuffed to the brim, “fuck, doll, this cute tight pussy is gripping so tight, shit..., like a fucking virgin...” and a thumb comes to rub your clitoris, a bit uncoordinated but still as good, making your head swim in pleasure, “i’m going to cum if you tighten so hard...”

“i-in— angh, inside, please!”

“of course i’m cumming in this pussy” Toji mocks with a laugh and you whimper, shaking your head, barely turning to look at the man from above your shoulder with pleading, cute eyes.

“take off the condom” and fuck, a fat drop of precum just oozed from the tip.

your hands reach back to press on Toji’s v line, fingertips grazing the slick coated base, “the princess wants a creampie in her tiny cunt?”

fucking hell, that cocky smirk and the way his cock, disgustingly hard, slaps against his abdomen when pulling out makes your tummy do a flip, eagerly reaching to tug on the latex tip and tossing the condom away as if it was offensive.

“a-ah yes!” you can’t avoid the relief moan that gets pulled out of your lips at the sensation, alongside Toji’s pleasure groan that rumbles deep and darkly, with thumbs hooking on each side of your pussy to keep you spread and ready to take those perfectly aligned thrusts, smashing your g spot and having you cumming within seconds, “g-uh, so good... I need...”

“i know, baby, I know, i’m... fuck... cumming deep in this fertile young pussy”

𝜗𝜚 KENTO

the last box is loaded in the truck and your parents bid you farewell. sigh, time to get to work, “do you need any more help?” Kento asks, your sweet and kind neighbor who you’ve known for years, who used to brush your knees when you fell on the grass while playing with Yuuji, who baked delicious loafs of bread you cheerfully ate sitting at the edge of his kitchen counter with your feet swinging.

“i will be okay” you say, flashing a side grin towards the older man, his face as warm as ever, but currently sporting several age lines that just make him look hotter.

yes, you grew and so did he, but your first, and initial admiration towards the man, soon became more loving and even lustful when you turned 19, and now with your parents moving abroad, leaving the cozy, childhood home you grew up in to your care, being into Kento’s ‘care’ —which you did not even needed in the first place, god, you’re a grown adult!— perhaps you were going to use this chance to get closer to the man.

“then I will get going so you get used to your new independence” he jokes a little, turning to return to his empty home due to Yuuji’s just recent departure to college.

“wait!” you stop him, “i was thinking... you know that yummy bread you used to bake? do you mind teaching me how to do it myself?” that will definitely do, getting into Kento’s good side, and house, was as easy as you remember.

and of course he agreed, offering a nod and gentle smile that just made your belly do a flip, what a damn pervert you were, lusting over your neighbour who probably just saw you as a charity work.

but then again, Kento needed it, the poor man was so lonely, with Yuuji gone, his wife leaving him years ago due to his ‘workaholic’ behaviour, a woman’s touch was so needed in his life, and you were going to help.

the baking class is so domestic you kinda feel bad for trying to get into the blonde’s pants, really, his always present and fond smile while you accidentally made a mess of floor all over the kitchen counter was not good for your heart, nor the way he chuckled in that deep and low voice tone of his, hoping he did not notice the way your knees bucked.

a hand comes to hold your wrist, so gentle, “knead like this” and his voice is right against your ear, warm breath sending shivers down your spine and heat pooling in your lower abdomen as he guides the motions, yet your eyes are glued to the way his hand veins pop with each squeeze, would he knead your ass the same way? and also... is his cock that veiny too?

with that thought in mind, you barely buck your hips back, pretending to change the weight from one foot to another when, in reality, you purposely brushed your butt with his crotch.

and Kento notices, his hands stopping for a brief second before resuming, and you move again, almost like a dance to see who would snap first, although each buck and brush is more bold than the previous, that until a large and veiny hand squeezes your hip, there it is.

“stay still” his voice is low and almost a rumble, feeling the warmth of his chest near your back through the thin layers of clothes.

that should not turn you on as much as it did, feeling slightly embarrassed from being caught and stopped that you unconsciously squirm again, and of course, your butt now lands right against Kento’s tenting crotch, feeling the tip poking on a cheek, “shit...” your moan is weak, unable to stop from full on grinding against his cock, to which his hands grip you tighter, the dough long forgotten.

“don’t... do that...” Kento’s words are strained, barely holding on from the urge to just bend you over and fuck you senseless, truth is he saw you grow up, but he also witnessed how you became the nature and sexy girl you are now, “this is wrong”

but his name sounds so cutely from you, that soft, mewled, and needy “Kento...” is just enough to break him.

the sticky mess of flour and water remaining on the kitchen counter sticks to the back of your shirt, it will be a pain to wash it, but meh, that should be another day’s worry, currently, your only focus is the man between your legs, keeping you as spread as ever, with your feet propped up the counter, leggings pulled down and that condom clad cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy, and yes, it’s very fucking veiny.

“this is what you wanted, didn’t you?” his words are huffed from the effort of thrusting mercilessly inside your hole, with a hand on the apex of your thigh to keep your lips open, and the other laying on a jiggling tit, “to get fucked by an older man, I saw the way you look at me, sweetheart, you’re not subtle”

that just makes you clench and mewl, getting caught drooling over the man was utterly hot and even excited he knew just how much you wanted him in your guts like now, “c-can’t help it, you’re— ngh, t-tooo hot!” it’s like you’re losing consciousness with each drag of those throbbing veins against your walls, the friction so fucking delicious and deep, oh so deep, curving just perfectly to drive you insane.

“you’re so hot too” he praises, the words so unfamiliar coming from those lips, adding to the lust filled expression of an almost pussy drunk man, “you’ve grown beautifully” and his words are like his hands, caressing your body with heat leaving on its wake until it lays on your fluttering abdomen, “so sexy, so tight and wet”

“just for you” you moan around your own fingers, sucking the digits to leave them soaked and rub tight circles on your swollen clit, it’s a vision that makes Kento’s cock twitch and splurt another drop of pre inside the condom.

Kento, the always impecable and polite man that fucks so nasty and kisses as equally lewd, gripping your jaw with a hand and a tongue comes to rub all across your sweet mouth, swallowing the desperate pleas and “i’m cumming” mumbles before you’re a sobbing mess and Kento is stuffing the condom full of creamy semen that, hopefully, will stuff your pussy bare someday.

𝜗𝜚 SATORU

“is it really necessary?” you complain for what feels like the fourth time that exact same day, your parents don’t get it, of course they don’t, you were doing just fine with your classes, and if the grades were barely above the requirement to pass, so what? at least you were not struggling in college.

“is that boy’s fault,” your mom says from the back, arms crossed and a scowl on her face, “i told you he is a bad influence and still you did not listen! now your grades are a mess, it’s like our money for your tuition is going to waste” ah yes, your filthy rich parents money, that money was almost spare cash for them.

“don’t bring my boyfriend in this, it’s not his fault” you attempt to defend the little honor your lover had, which, honestly, he did not deserve, he was the worst kind of man you couldn’t have ever fallen for, uninterested, having you crawl behind him, but he had a big dick and a bike, sigh.

“i don’t care, you’re going to have Mr. Gojo tutor you, you like it or not”

Satoru Gojo or Mr. Gojo, your also filthy rich neighbor who just traveled around the world with god knows what money, what would he even know?

the sound of your foot tapping on the floor could tick anyone, but your stupid boyfriend hasn’t responded to any text since yesterday, and you’re two minutes away from making the long and boring walk to your next door’s neighbor house, so long and boring.

you curse and grab your bag way too hastily, you’re sick of this, utterly pissed off, and sadly Mr. Gojo will have to turn into your punching bag.

one or twice is the times you’ve seen the man, he was barely at home or your schedules never met, but damn, he was hot.

tall, broad, with soft white hair that fell on his eyes and made him look younger than he was, bright blue eyes to contrast and ridiculously long legs and hands. somehow you’re a bit speechless as he asks you to come in, taking the surroundings of his home and the family picture frames hanging off the walls, not a woman in sight, strange.

“where is your wife?” mouth works faster than the brain, but Satoru does not mind, giving you a smirk from over his shoulder.

“i don’t have a wife, my kids were adopted” damn, that makes it harder for you to hate on this man.

deciding not to pry even more into the topic you just follow him to the living room, a bunch of history books are splayed in the coffee table so you sit next to the man in one of the large, leather couches.

“your parents say you’re struggling with Japanese periods, yes? Meiji, Heian...”

this was going to be long, “yeah, whatever, why do I even have to learn about all that? it’s in the past, who cares” your attention was drifting again, pulling out your phone and tapping harshly on the screen, no messages, “fuck”

“hey, focus here, princess, leave your phone aside” the sudden shiver that runs down your spine at the nickname is somehow drowned down by a rush of annoyance, you were already in a bad mood and now this man was telling you what to do? fuck this.

“don’t tell me what to do! it’s not as if i wanted to come here in the first place” with a leg crossed over the other your head turns, puffing your cheeks like a spoiled brat.

and again, your eyes drop to your phone.

“hm, I see how it is” yet he’s not mad, more like... amused, and before you realize it he’s snatching your phone that happened to be unlocked, “who’s sukuna?”

“give me that!” you squeak, trying to grab your phone back but Satoru is already scrolling through endless embarrassing texts and multiple nudes you’ve sent.

he clicks his tongue in return, “oh, babygirl, you don’t know how to pick a man, do you?” he coos, almost as if he’s mocking you, and before you realize it, you’re being dragged to his lap, a hand on the small of your back and the other on a bare knee, “tsk, tsk, a sweet thing like you deserve much better, a real man who can please you” his smirk almost makes you moan, adding to the way his long and slender fingers trailed up your thigh to brush the edge of the panties you wore, which were almost ruined at this point.

“boys your age don’t know how to satisfy a girl like you”

the previous heated exchange is not turned into moans echoing in the room, Satoru is so fuckin’ big and long, making your eyes cross and tongue loll out with each drag of his cock inside your walls, he has you spread, with your thighs swinging over his forearms, chest on your back and his lips on your neck, giving you the fuck of your life while at the same time being treated like a fleshlight.

the man is big, big muscles and a big cock that struggles to push past the resistance inside your cunt, but it’s so worthy once it’s in, successfully finding your g spot within seconds of pounding.

“that’s a good girl, yeah, keep moaning, babygirl, your cunt is perfect around my cock” how could this man speak so lewd and freely while rearranging your guts, voice unaffected but the throb and twitch of his cock proved otherwise, “i haven’t fucked a pussy this damn tight, you’re sucking me in, ah fuck— greedy young cunt”

“nghh! haagh f-uck Sa-ah toru!” what a mess, mess of babbling nonsense and a mess of slick and precum dripping down to pool between your legs and onto the couch, the creamy sound of your pussy dragging you and down is just growing with how wetter you get, creating a ring of pearly cum around the base of Satoru’s fat cock filling your insides.

your phone rings, but who fuckin’ cares? your boyfriend is in the past, and now having a tutor is not that entirely bad.

[beloveds-embrace]

(Arranged marriage to duke john price except it means you married four instead of one 👁️👁️)

Your marriage to Duke Price is one out of necessity: you need a husband before high society begins rumoring you to be a barren woman and too old to be married off, and Duke Price needs a wife who is able to take on Duchess duties of his duchies.

You do not expect love, though you suppose it’d be a nice bonus. You are merely glad that Duke Price is a reasonable handsome man, and he informs you on your wedding night that he will not force himself on you, and there is no need to immediately begin attemtping for an heir.

You take admirably to your new duties, have been raised practically for this purpose though the head butler Kyle is wonderful in helping you as well- actually all the servants have been wonderful towards you. You have regular dinners with John, though they are a bit stilted but at least Chef Johnny’s food is good enough you can easily forget the tense atmosphere. You can tell your husband is hiding something- you are sometimes barred from going to his office to him, certain rooms are not allowed for you, and you are not allowed anywhere near the letters addressed to him- but as long as it isn’t hurting you, why should you bother him? So you never ask, and he seems happy enough that you don’t.

Until you accidentally stumble upon him and Duke Riley exchanging tongues. Very heatedly, hands grasping and tugging on each other’s clothes and Duke Riley sat on your husband’s desk.

It’s hot.

What’s not so hot is the way they both look at you when they realize you are there. You stutter, face a red so fierce it’d put a furnace to shame, and bolt out of the room despite hearing John call your name.

And you also skip out on the dinners for now, pretending you are sick with the help of your maids and their makeup skills.

But suddenly, it’s like your eyes have been opened. It’s not just Duke Riley who seems to hold a part of your husband’s heart; the one time you gather enough courage to maybe go speak with John and address the situation, you see Kyle stumbling out all disheveled and flushed, though he has a very satisfied air around him. He freezes when he sees you, and your jaw drops.

“My lady-“

“I- I’ll just- I’m taking a walk! Alone!”

You go to the kitchens instead, hoping that Johnny would have something delicious you can eat. Maybe something cold enough to wash away the blush on your cheeks.

Johnny is weirdly silent, however, even as he whips up chocolate mousse for you. His silence is not normal, it feels… almost guilty…

You sighs, take in a deep breath, and gather your dress. “Johnny… are you too…-?”

“Aye, m’lady. But-“

You can’t take it anymore. You leave the kitchens, and go straight back to your bedroom to bury your face in your bed. It’s not as if you are upset! It’s just- a rather befuddling situation?

Two nights later, it’s John himself who comes to you. You had assumed it was one of your maids returning with a new jar of oil for your nightly hair routine, but it’s your husband. You are glad it’s winter, and you aren’t simply in a thin nightgown.

“Wife.” He says, voice steady yet strained.

“John.”

You can’t call him husband. You’ve spent the last two days thinking and you were… rather sad. You were in the way of whatever they had (you saw Kyle and Johnny kissing, Johnny specifically sending food addressed to Duke Riley), weren’t you?

John sighs, sitting down on the settee while you remain on your vanity. After a moment of awkward silence, he opens his eyes and looks at you. “…what do you want to remain silent about this?”

You blink, raising an eyebrow. “…huh?”

John’s fists clench. “How much do you want in return for your silence?”

Frowning, you set your brush down and fully turn to him even if you feel exposed despite your thicker nightgown. “Is this about your… partners?” You say the word delicately, then shake your head. “I want nothing, John. If you are worried about me starting anything, I won’t. I just… hope this doesn’t mean you will divorce me?”

Being a divorced woman might as well be a death sentence on its own.

He looks at you, shocked into silence, and you quickly explain; his relationships have nothing to do with you and you aren’t a petty woman, who are you to come between what he and they have? You only hope this won’t take away the protection this marriage gave you.

That night, thus, you and John reach an agreement you are sure both of you are satisfied with.

Except, months later, John is no longer satisfied.

With the ice broken between the two of you. The dinners have become so much more… relaxing and comfortable, far less than they had been. No secrecy was needed when you were around anymore, and you only giggle and look away, feigning innocence when they share tender kisses between one another… and the less polite kisses.

John can’t remain satisfied with this arrangement. You are such a sweet thing, now that he’s become to know you far better. He can see the way his men are looking at you now, something between fondness and hunger and want; Kyle helps you far more often now, despite your insistence that you can do it yourself. Even when you do it yourself, he stays by you and ensures you are comfortable.

And he joins your evening walks, arms looped as the two of you speak, laughing and giggling.

It’s similar to your late night chats with Johnny, where he plies your full of sweets and desserts until even your dreams are full of sweeter kisses you are sure will never be for you. Johnny, who cooks your favorites on hard days and who you heard from Kyle is even more serious about only having the best of the best in vegetables and meats and seasonings.

And Duke Riley… for all his stoicism, he is gentle with you. Even when he’d stared at you with doubt and mistrust, no doubt believing you to be lying to John and simply waiting for the shoe to drop and for you to ruin them. Yet it never happens, and now, during the galas you attend all dolled up on John’s arm and ignoring all murmurs about still having no children, you even dance with him and giggle at his terribly dry jokes, even share a few of your own with him.

Steadily, slowly, obliviously, John has watched each of his men fall for you. This, obviously, made you theirs. It made you his, more and more than you already were.

It’s why your current request is making him clench his glass in his hand, with Kyle looking on in displeasure as well, giving him subtle glances.

“-So that’s why I was asking, John,” you remain sweetly oblivious, adorned in a pretty dress Simon had gotten for you recently. “He will not spread any rumors, I’ll personally make sure of that-”

Your cheeks darken then, and you glance away. “I- I am… merely a bit- unsatisfied, if you understand my point. And the stable man is loyal to you, he wouldn’t say anything.”

It’s clear he needs to keep a better watch over you. Where and when did you even interact with his stable boy, Graves? Though he focused on your words.

Unsatisfied.

Well, he can’t have that, can he? You’ve done your wifely duties so admirably, it’s about time he took care of you as well… and maybe dealt with the baseless barren rumors as well. A baby would keep you nice and content and focused on them alone, wouldn’t it?

Oh yes. Yes, it would.

dukedom au masterlist

Part two

[junkuna]

| thinking ab the look on sukunas face when she says “dada!” 1st !

the competition starts off as a joke. mostly.

you’re lying on the floor one afternoon, baby between you and sukuna, all squirmy limbs and drooly grins. she’s nearly one now — chubby cheeks, curls in every direction, her favorite hobby is throwing expensive things off tables and laughing like she’s done something groundbreaking. she’s also been babbling nonstop for weeks: ba ba ba, ga ga, ahh!

“any day now,” you say, wiggling your fingers in front of her face. “come on, sweetheart. say mama. you know you love me more.”

sukuna snorts from the other side of her, one hand propped under his chin. “in your dreams. she’s a daddy’s girl. always has been.”

“she literally bit your finger this morning and laughed.”

“because she’s my daughter. feral and mighty.”

you roll your eyes, but your heart’s too full to argue. especially when your daughter blinks up at you both, fists curled tight, mouth opening and closing like she’s almost got it.

from that day on, the war begins.

it’s ridiculous. every spare second, one of you is whispering sweet nothings into her ears like she’s a tiny, impressionable oracle.

“mama,” you say sweetly as you rock her to sleep. “say ma-ma, baby. you can do it. ignore the big scary man.”

“dada,” sukuna whispers like it’s sacred, holding her in one arm while pouring juice with the other. “you wanna say dada, don’t you? you love your old man.”

he even cheats — you catch him once holding her favorite stuffed animal hostage until she says something even vaguely “da”-adjacent. she just smacks him in the face with it and shrieks.

score: baby 1, sukuna 0.

but then—one lazy sunday morning—everything changes.

you’re in the kitchen, humming to yourself, trying to pour cereal with one hand and not burn toast with the other. your daughter is sitting in her high chair, hair wild, cheeks puffed out like a tiny chipmunk, watching sukuna pace around the room shirtless and still half-asleep.

he stops to lean against the counter, eyes still heavy-lidded, and yawns out, “hey, gremlin, what do you want? you hungry?”

and then—

“dada!”

the spoon in your hand clatters into the sink.

sukuna blinks. straightens. turns to her like she’s just summoned a divine prophecy.

“…what did you say?”

“dada!” she squeals again, tiny hands smacking the tray. “dada dada dada—!”

and sukuna — sukuna, the king of curses, the war god with enough arrogance to swallow cities — makes the most inhuman noise in the back of his throat. and you see him smile like never before.

he grabs her from the high chair, lifts her high into the air like she’s made of gold and sunlight. “say it again,” he begs, spinning her in a circle as she giggles, squeals, clutches at his face. “again, princess. say it again for dada!”

“dada!” she shrieks, absolutely thrilled with herself.

“that’s my girl,” he breathes, cradling her close and pressing his forehead to hers. “that’s my girl!!”

you’re watching from the doorway, arms crossed, heart squeezing painfully.

you should be annoyed. you should tease him, remind him how smug he’s going to be for the next forty years. but you can’t. not when he looks like that — glowing, flustered, borderline emotional. his hands are so gentle. his voice is just a whisper.

he turns and sees you watching. freezes.

“…don’t,” he says quickly, brows furrowed. “don’t make that face.”

“what face?”

“that face.”

you smile. “not my fault you’re a big softie.”

“shut up.”

“you’re blushing.”

“it’s warm in here.”

he’s still holding her like she’s the world’s most precious artifact. she’s started chewing on his shoulder now, drooling through his shirt.

“dada,” she says again, this time softer. like a secret.

and you swear you see his throat bob.

“…you win,” you admit quietly, walking over to kiss the top of her head. “but only because that was the cutest thing i’ve ever seen.”

“damn right i win,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her tiny knuckles. “she knows what’s up.”

“guess we both do.”

you press a kiss to his cheek this time, and his ears go pink.

—

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