#I'M EXCITED for how insane this will get let's go

[songmingisthighs]

Birthday Baby Wish

group : ateez

pairing : dad!yeosang × mom!reader

genre : smut

wc : 2.9 k

warning : mature, mdni, explicit sex; impregnation kink, piv sex (obvi), unrpotected sex (obvi), dirty talk, slight asphyxiation ? (not choking but the position makes it hard to breathe), nasty shit idk (not baby poop just... the process of making a baby), yeosang wants another baby

a/n : i'm finally doing another special birthday post for a member and y'all can blame not only my cycle but also kang yeosang for existing because how fucking dare he

buy me coffee ?

Yeosang's birthday party ended rather spectacularly, and following the group's hangout tradition, Yeosang foiled Wooyoung's kidnapping attempt, and he had to resort to wrestling him for his daughter. Wooyoung really did take advantage of Yeosang being preoccupied as he actually managed to get to the elevator before Yeosang realized.

After everyone left, you immediately started cleaning up while Yeosang spent a much needed time with his daughter.

Yeonhee's eyes were fluttering close, and Yeosang was just standing there, cradling his baby while looking at her in awe. She was already seventeen months old at that point, but Yeosang still couldn't believe that she was there with him. Since the moment she was born, Yeosang tried his best to spend every single moment with her. Even when you both were implementing the family bed, Yeosang would sometimes find himself spending at least an hour just staring at Yeonhee, comparing her features to yours and also with him, wondering who she'd look like more when sh'e older. So when you both agreed that it was time for Yeonhee to start sleeping in her own room, Yeosang immediately volunteered to be the one to tuck her in every night. That way, he would be able to admire her as much as he wanted. How could he not? He would watch the way she held onto his fingers with her more stubby ones, the way she was breathing oh-so-calmly in his arms, feelings built up and overpowered Yeosang, and it felt like he was going to explode. Realizing that if he stayed any longer he might do something to wake her up, he carefully placed Yeonhee in her crib, giving her one last kiss before quietly leaving.

He found you in the kitchen, scrubbing away the last of the dirty dishes, and he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist from the back.

"God, Yeosang! You scared me!" you lightly scolded, smacking the arm around your waist with your soapy hand, "Did you put the little princess to bed?" At the mention of his princess, Yeosang buried his face in your shoulder and let out a squeak, "Unfortunately, I did," he sighed. You raised an eyebrow at him, "Unfortunately? Baby, she needs her rest, did you not see how she was playing with Wooyoung? Had she stayed up any longer she'd be super cranky and we'd be dealing with her tantrum all night," you pointed out. Yeosang lifted his head and placed his chin on your shoulder. "Well, can you blame her for being excited? Wooyoung matches her energy because he's practically a toddler with a job, so of course, she'd be happy to have a playmate," he stated.

You couldn't help but purse your lips slightly, quietly agreeing to his point that your daughter does seem like she could benefit from having a steady playmate. But you said and did nothing other than putting the last of the dishes up on the drying rack and taking your gloves off.

"So I was thinking," Yeosang started, clearing his throat slightly while playing with the fabric of your apron, "You know... Since it's my birthday a-and usually we do... Things, things I want on my birthday... So..." You knew where this was going, and frankly, you were at the point of waiting for Yeosang to communicate his desire to you. You've seen the way Yeosang look at his daughter, and you've seen the long look he sported when he saw a big family walking by. You both had a deal of having two kids or three max, after talking him down from his insane baseball team-sized family, courtesy of Yunho. Though an understanding was established, you two were waiting for the perfect time. At least, that's what Yeosang was doing; you were just waiting for him to assert himself. Knowing Yeosang, he needed the push to make what he wanted known. Still, you think you deserve some fun watching him squirm to get his point across.

"So... What?" you asked nonchalantly, but a faint smirk made itself present on your face. Yeosang groaned and turned your body around, "I think we're ready for another baby," he said confidently, though a slight blush was present on his cheeks. "Really? So that's your birthday sex wish? To knock me up again?" You were taunting him slightly, but you had to admit, even the mere words made you clench. That and also the thought of how different Yeosang become when baby making is involved. You didn't know what exactly it was, but Yeosang practically became a different man; more pointed, more confident, more cocky.

Yeosang sharply exhaled from his nose, making it known that he, too was affected by your words. His hands skimmed up your body and rested on your waist, firmly holding with his big, strong grip that made your breath hitch. "My birthday wish, dear wife, is for us to have sex all night long until there is no doubt that you're pregnant," he leaned in and brushed his lips lightly against the skin of your cheek, "And we're starting now."

A squeal left your lips when Yeosang suddenly hauled you over his shoulder, and it was at that moment you understood, admired, and fully supported his dedication in the gym because he managed to make carrying another human your size very effortless.

Yeosang dropped you on your shared bed and immediately caged you under him. He hovered above you for a while, scanning your figure with hunger in his eyes, a purpose, a goal. Soon, he leaned down and started kissing you from your forehead, down to your cheek, the corner of your lips, your collarbone, and then stopping at your stomach. He inhaled deeply as he pushed the fabric of your shirt up, causing you to shudder when you felt his lips start nipping at your exposed skin. "Have I ever told you how absolutely breathtaking you are when you're pregnant?" he muttered against your skin. You raised an eyebrow at him as you ran a hand through his soft, silky hair, "Are you saying I'm not breathtaking when I'm not pregnant?" Teasing him further, you pulled up your knees so your feet were planted on the bed, trapping Yeosang's figure between your legs. Your skirt rode up, and it immediately caught Yeosang's eyes, which followed the way the flowy end pools at your hip, allowing him to peek into your red lacy underwear. "Not even when I'm like this?" you faked pouted at him. Yeosang's breathing immediately stuttered, and his face became even redder. You had been together for years already, so it was kind of embarrassing how he still blushed like a virgin seeing you in such a position.

Reacting to your taunts, Yeosang moved his hands into your underwear through the seams at the apex of your thighs. His thumbs immediately found purchase to your clit as they began gently massaging it while the other poked into your opening just a bit lower. Your eyes closed at the sensation but your mind was only completely disabled when Yeosang started sucking marks into the soft skin of your stomach. With each movement of his hand, you felt yourself getting wetter and the more Yeosang worked on you, the more pliant you became, moving your hips along with his movements.

"Honey, you always look breathtaking to me, but when you have my baby inside you?" you yelped when he suddenly took your skin between his teeth, "It was a miracle that we were able to get out of bed every morning," he smirked. "F-fuck, I know what you mean," you moaned when Yeosang pressed harder into your clit. "Do you know what I missed most about your pregnancy?" Yeosang asked as he slowly crawled up your body. You couldn't even answer him verbally as you were so clouded with pleasure, so you were only able to shake your head. "I miss how extremely horny you are, you get so wet and it just drives me crazy," Yeosang moaned as the thumb that was at your entrance turned into two fingers slipping inside. "F-fuck!" you gasped when he started pumping into you sloppily, spreading your arousal all over your pussy lips which made your underwear stick to you. "Not to mention you were always trying to jump my bones, and who was I to deny the mother of my child?" Yeosang chuckled as he pulled himself away from you, causing you to whine and whimper, "It's amazing how much I would give you after you gave me Yeonhee. Now imagine how even worse I'll be when you give me another baby."

Without wasting time, Yeosang immediately pulled himself out of his jeans. You took a peek and you realized how hard he had been while teasing you. The tip of his cock was red and leaking pre-cum, and the slight breeze from the AC caused it to twitch as if uncomfortable waiting any longer. You were about to take your clothes off when Yeosang stopped you, "No time, baby, I need to impregnate you right now." Then all of a sudden he pushed your thighs to your chest and aligned his tip right at your entrance. "Are you ready?" for a moment his cockiness slipped and the usual caring Yeosang came back, wanting to be sure that you were okay before he could proceed. You smiled and nodded before you took hold of your thighs, opening yourself for him, "Yeah, I am."

In a split second, Yeosang's eyes darkened, and he thrust himself inside you in one swift move. The fullness made your eyes roll and your back arch, but you didn't even get to enjoy the feeling because Yeosang was already shallowly thrusting inside you, setting a slow pace at first but he was making sure that his hips slapped your bottom every single time.

"Fuck! I'll never get tired of this pussy," he groaned, licking his bottom lip while smacking you once in the ass. You yelped on impact, but rather than feeling pain, you simply clenched, forcing more arousal to leak out of you. "You better not, since we'll be having even more sex during this pregnancy," you huffed. Yeosang's cock practically twitched inside you at the mention or maybe even affirmation that after this you will definitely get pregnant. "Fuck, can't just say something like that so casually to me, baby," suddenly he pulled your hips up and slid a pillow under, giving you a new angle, "I might not hold back," he smirked before dropping down to rest his elbows on the sides of your head. The new position locked you in place what with having the back of your thighs on Yeosang's chest and your knees now resting over his shoulders. "Do you not want me to hold back?" Yeosang asked as he thrust in again. This time, you felt him so deeply thanks to your elevated hips. You moaned loudly at the feeling, and Yeosang took it as a sign to move again.

Setting a new pace, Yeosang thrusted into you with power and precision. You could feel the veins of his cock scratching against your gummy walls, sending shivers up your spine which caused you to tangle your hands into his hair. "Fuck, Yeosang!" you whined, a bit louder than you wanted to which worried you because your daughter was sleeping in the room just down the hall and there you were screaming like a whore. "Shh, shh, baby, you don't wanna wake Yeonhee up, do you?" Yeosang smirked, teasing the absolute hell out of you because he knew exactly how loud you could be. You couldn't even answer him clearly, so in an effort to minimize the chances of your baby waking up, you smashed your lips with Yeosang. The position and Yeosang's mouth on you took away your breath, literally. You were starting to get lightheaded in the best way. It felt as if you were in a different space that only had you and Yeosang in it. Everything, including all your senses, was filled with Yeosang, and it was electrifying. There was a battle for dominance in the kiss, which was futile because you knew very well that Yeosang was pulling all the shots as the person in the more advantageous position. It was the thought that counted and Yesoang played along, as if he wasn't putting you in your place.

The more Yeosang thrust, the more you could feel him inside you, to the point that you felt like his tip was kissing your cervix, opening you up more to prepare you for what's to come.

You pulled away from the kiss slightly and whimpered, "F-fuck, Yeosang, I'm so close!" "Yeah? That's good baby, cum first, you need to cum first so can you touch yourself for me?"

With slight struggle, you managed your hand down to rub at your clit sloppily. "That's it mommy, show daddy how bad you want to get knocked up," Yeosang grunted shakily, clearly incredibly turned on, "You can't wait to get filled up by your husband, do you? I'm sorry honey, I should be doing better as a husband and fill you up with my cum every night," "Y-yes, fuck!" You gasped, "I should always be f-filled with your c-cum," you whimpered, edging yourself closer and closer to the end. "Okay baby, okay, you better cum soon then so I can fill up your little cunt," Yeosang smirked, pushing his body off of you slightly so he could watch the way he was fucking you just right while you chase after your high. To aid you, Yeosang slipped his right hand under your shirt and into your bra, groping at your tits harshly, tweaking at your perky nipple. "Come on baby, cum for me, cum for me quick," he breathed, starting to feel his own climax coming. The pleasure from his hand on your chest shot straight to your pussy and your body convulsed; your jaw slacked, your legs tensed to the point of almost cramping, your toes curled, and your back arched high. Yeosang only slowed his movements down, allowing you to come back down from your high without losing his momentum.

"T-that was..." You drawled as your senses returned. Your legs felt like jelly and they slid off Yeosang's shoulders due to the lack of strength. "I know, I saw you climax," Yeosang smirked before he positioned your legs again, this time simply spreading them open as he picked up his pace. "But now is my turn."

Overstimulation started building inside you the more Yeosang chased his high. He was so close and your slick was aiding in him reaching deep into your womb. You felt yourself opening up to him and you almost screamed so you resorted to covering your mouth with your hand. Seeing all of this, Yeosang smirked as he panted, "Hold on, okay, baby? Just a bit longer and you'll be stuffed. Just a bit longer and you'll get my cum," he grinned. You used your free hand to grip his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin as if telling him that it was too much, that you were overstimulated to the point that it started hurting. "No, no, no, you can take it, even your body knew you can," he saw how your hips were still meeting his own despite your brain telling you that you had enough and it was making his mouth water.

"P-please," you managed to whine despite your mouth being covered. Yeosang's movements became more erratic, and his breath became uneven, telltale signs that he was on the verge of coming undone, and you saw how his body was starting to twitch. Seeing him like that stirred something in you, and your hand suddenly moved on its own, from his shoulder to the back of his head. You grabbed a handful of his hair and you tugged it back once. It was as if that one simple action was a lever because the moment Yeosang threw his head back, his hip completely stilled, his cock twitched inside you, and the dam was released. Ropes of white painted your pulsing walls and your eyes, and his rolled back from ecstasy.

Yeosang's body slumped forward on top of yours, strength left him completely at that moment but his hips still twitched as your walls that rubbed on his cock overstimulated him, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

"You did so well, baby," he hummed, pecking you gently on your lips, making you giggle. "That's so vanilla of you to say after you fold me in half and hammer into me like a possessed jackhammer," you teased and he blushed, embarrassed with the way you phrased things, so he buried his face into your shoulder.

It took you about fifteen minutes to regain all your senses back and the first thing you thought of doing was to clean yourself a little. Just as you tried to push Yeosang off of you, Yeosang grunted and pushed his body up slightly. "What are you doing?" he asked. "I need to clean myself, Yeosangie," you smiled and tried moving again, but were stopped when Yeosang pushed you back into the bed whilst simultaneously sitting up on his knees, which took you by surprise. "You think we're done?" he smiled angelically, but when he suddenly peeled his shirt off, you sensed that he was far from done. "We're just getting started, baby. I mean, I think I mentioned something about fucking all night long until we're sure you're pregnant."

A gasp escaped you when you felt Yeosang slowly dragging himself out before pushing himself back in as equally slow.

"You better get comfortable in this position, baby, since this position might increase the chance of getting pregnant."

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[writingdevil]

[rushes into the ask box and trips on the way] Hi and hello Devil!!! I got very excited when I saw you opened requests again! I hope you're doing well when you get to my request <3

Could I request something for my favorite lad Skeptic? Specifically, I'd love to read something about Skeptic getting really stuck in his own head, like in an investigation or something similar, before seeing that what he's doing is hurting him or others. Whether it ends well (he realizes it *before* he can do irreparable damage) or not (he only realizes it when it's way too late) is up to you!

...and because I'm EG, bonus points if it includes Skeptunist, but that's not at all necessary <3

Anyways, thank you for taking my request and thank you for doing what you do <3

(HI EG!! [Picks you up off the ground and makes sure you're alright] Last time we did this, I made you lose your mind. Let's see if I can do it again- and of course I'll make it Skeptunist, what do you take me for?/silly. Anyway, enjoy!)

"I'll figure you out. I have to."

Skeptic sighed as he crushed up another paper ball of dead ends, tossing it over his shoulder, only making the pile on the floor behind him even bigger, but he was too engrossed in his work to care right now.

He tapped his pencil against his desk in irritation, dragging a hand roughly through his unkempt feathers, staring down at all his miscellaneous notes, that would make anyone else think he was insane if they read them. But Skeptic was perfectly sane right now, just frustrated.

He heard his bedroom door open, and he didn't need to look up from his work to know who was there.

"Hello, love."

"Hello, handsome!" Oppy brightly replied, and soon enough, Skeptic felt arms wrapping around his neck from behind, and he allowed himself a moment to sigh and relax in his lover's arms, leaning his head back.

"How goes the research, detective?" Oppy asked, and Skeptic groaned, closing his tired eyes as he said, "It's going. That's all I can say."

"You've been stuck in here for at least two hours," Oppy pointed out, then pressed a kiss to the corner of Skeptic's mouth, making a pleasant shiver go up his spine. "You should take a break, stretch your legs and get some fresh air. Let's go for a walk, just you and me."

It sounded lovely, and usually Skeptic wouldn't hesitate to say yes to his caring partner- but this investigation was weighing too heavily in his head to let go of it, for even a moment.

He sighed again, tilting his head to lean against Oppy's head. "I'd love to, sweetie. But I can feel myself getting closer to the answer, so I think I'll stay here for a bit longer."

He heard Oppy sigh, and Skeptic winced at the disappointed hint he heard in it, hating when he let Oppy down like this. But he knew it would be worth it in the long run- this was going to help the whole flock if Skeptic could figure this out.

"Fine, if you say so," Oppy said, and although he sounded unbothered, Skeptic knew that Oppy was an expert in masking his true emotions, so he twisted his head slightly to peck his love's cheek. "Tomorrow, I promise I'll take a break."

He had the pleasure in seeing Oppy perk up slightly at that, and he smiled in that beautiful way that Skeptic loved to see, like the sun shining down on him. Skeptic would do anything to protect that smile.

"I'll accept that, then." Oppy loosened his hold on Skeptic's neck, straightening up and resting his hands on Skeptic's shoulders, and started to slowly massage them, making Skeptic bite down on a groan at how nice it felt.

"I will say, that I don't think studying this deeply into the world we landed in is that serious."

"It is very serious," Skeptic said, trying his hardest to keep his voice calm and collected when Oppy was practically working magic on his muscles. "We need to know what's out there, if there's anything dangerous out there."

"We've been settled here for months now, darling," Oppy said, his palms leaving warmth for Skeptic to soak up. "If something wanted to attack us, they would've done it by now- we aren't exactly a quiet flock." Skeptic chuckled, closing his eyes again.

"Besides, the most dangerous thing we've ever faced was the princess and her vessels, so if we can handle them, we can handle anything."

Skeptic hummed in agreement- until he felt his mind lingering on his partner's words. He could feel his thoughts mulling over questions and theories that took him deep into his mind, to the point that he barely acknowledged that Oppy had given him a kiss goodbye and left him alone, much more concerned with one question- what happened to the vessels?

-

The next day, Skeptic decided that not looking at the mess his room had become was probably for the best, for the sake of his dwindling patience and sanity.

There was so many pages and notes covering his desk that he could no longer see the wooden surface of the desk underneath, and he had to move the plates of untouched food that Oppy had brought him, to make more room for his notes.

Skeptid wouldn't say that he had made progress, but he had definitely opened up his mind to more possibilities regarding their situation.

Originally, Skeptic had just been interested in figuring out what type of world they had materialised it, but then he started to wonder about other things, such as what became of the vessels?

Had they been given freedom as well? If so, where were they? Had they appeared in an entirely different place, far away from the flock?

Or what if they hadn't? What if the vessels had remained within the Shifting Mound? But if that were the case, why hadn't the voices remained with the Long Quiet?

That dug Skeptic into a deeper hole, and soon he was wondering what became of the two Gods, as much as their names brought complicated feelings within Skeptic. But he couldn't rule anything out anymore.

All these questions had sent Skeptic into a spiral, one where he woke up much earlier and was forced to untangle himself from Oppy's arms to keep working, because his brain would not let him rest anymore.

He needed to get to the bottom of this, for everyone's sake.

"Babe."

Instinctively, Skeptic's hand flicked out, hiding his notes on the Shifting Mound underneath his other, less troubling papers, once he heard Oppy's disapproving voice behind him.

He sighed, knowing what was about to happen, and he turned around in his chair, finding Oppy with his arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe. Skeptic tried to avoid looking in his concerned eyes.

"Listen-"

"Honey, you look exhausted," Oppy said, worry heavy in his voice, pushing himself off the doorframe to come up next to Skeptic. "I know this is important to you, but you're gonna crash out if you don't take care of yourself."

"I'm fine, Oppy," Skeptic insisted, but he knew there was still suspicion in the other's eyes, so he just went back to his notes, hoping Oppy would just drop it now.

But then he felt lips brush against his temple, and hands softly caressing and preening his wings. "Please," Oppy whispered, and Skeptic's grip on his pencil tightened, feeling his resolve breaking. "Please take a break from this- just for a day- for me, darling?"

He wanted to. Skeptic so badly wanted to switch off his brain and focus on his wonderful partner, only having to think about kissing and loving Oppy.

But then fear would suddenly grip him, at the idea that if he took a break, he wasn't making progress, and if he wasn't making progress, he wasn't searching for an answer, which could doom them all.

Which could put Oppy in danger.

Skeptic wouldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let any harm come to his love. So he had to keep digging.

Skeptic was prepared for the reaction as he turned and looked up at Oppy from his chair, putting a hand atop of Oppy's, and said, "I know you're worried about me, love. But you have to understand, I'm doing this for us."

Oppy's eyes widened slightly at that, and his caressing paused, all his attention on Skeptic's words, and although he missed the feeling of his feathers being played with, he knew the warmth was only a distraction right now.

"I'm trying to figure all this out, to make sure that the flock is safe, that you are safe."

"The only one in harm right now is you, Skeptic," Oppy argued, and although his voice remained level, Skeptic could clearly hear the sharp frustration in his voice. "You're not gonna help anyone by passing out and not eating."

Oppy looked away with a sharp sigh, and if only Skeptic could make him understand that this couldn't wait. What if the one day that Skeptic rested, was the one day that the vessels appeared and attacked? What if the Shifting Mound planned to betray the Long Quiet, and only Skeptic could figure out her plan?

"If you won't listen to me, despite how clearly right I am," Oppy's tired voice broke Skeptic out of his maddening thoughts, and he looked up, and Oppy wasn't looking him in the eye anymore, "then you could at least eat the food I bring you, so that I know you're not withering away in here."

"Fine," was Skeptic's curt response, immediately hovering back down over his notes.

The room was silent for a long time, before he heard footsteps slowly make their way to the door, and then- "You know we got out, right?"

Skeptic squeezed his pencil tighter.

"You know we got out of that loop, and there's no Echo to control us anymore? We have all this freedom to take advantage of, so please don't waste it like this." Then the door shut.

Skeptic only had one reply to that.

What if the Echo never truly left?

He didn't eat his meal that night.

-

He was so close.

He was so close to the truth.

He just needed to question everything again, so that he could see all the potential dangers.

His room was just a victim of his research now, and Skeptic couldn't remember the last time he had gone to bed, but he'll rest easy once he solves this mystery.

He had been forced to leave his room for only a few moments, to grab more papers, and he wasn't completely sure when the last time he saw walls that weren't his bedroom, but when he returned to his room, he was shocked to find Oppy, standing in the middle of this room, reading his notes with a look of frightened disbelief.

Skeptic closed the door, and their eyes met.

"You shouldn't look through my stuff," was the first thing that Skeptic thought to say, and that was all the spark Oppy needed.

"Skeptic," Oppy started, his voice rising in panic, while still making an attempt to remain calm, "why are you taking notes on the Echo? On the Shifting Mound?"

"It's part of my research, Oppy. You know this."

"No, I don't actually!" Oppy exclaimed, clutching the paper tight enough to crumple it, waving it around in front of him. "How is any of this part of what you said you were looking into?"

"I realised that I couldn't rule anything out. I needed to think of everything."

"Skeptic," Oppy said slowly, and for some reason, that was what annoyed Skeptic. Not Oppy snapping at him, but talking to him as if Skeptic was the mad one that needed calming down.

"Sweetheart, I'm telling you, this isn't healthy anymore. You need to-"

"If you say 'take a break' again," Skeptic snapped at him, marching over and ripping the note from Oppy's hand, "then I'm going to break my damn skull so I don't have to hear that anymore!"

Oppy stared at him, stunned, likely having never heard Skeptic snap like that before, to him, of all people as well.

Skeptic panted in anger as he tried to smooth out the crumpled paper, letting the tension in the room sit heavy between them.

"I'm just trying to look out for you, because you know you get stuck in your own head, sweetheart. You need someone to help you bring you back when-"

"I'm not a fledgling, Oppy! You don't need to coddle me!"

"I'm not coddling you!" Oppy protested, wings rising like the anger in the room. Skeptic saw the way Oppy tried to hide his twitching fingers behind his back, a forgotten habit of wanting to arm himself and feel safe, and Skeptic, despite this arguing, wanted Oppy to feel safe.

"Oppy, I know you're worried, but trust me, I know my limits." Skeptic ignored the subtle shake of Oppy's head to gesture towards his desk. "I know I can figure this puzzle out if you just give me some more time."

"That's not the problem, Skeptic!" Oppy protested, a desperate look in his eyes. "The problem is that you've taken this and made it so much harder for yourself! Have you even looked at yourself, lately?" Skeptic squeezed the paper in his hand tighter. "You look like you're on the brink of collapsing, and I'm just trying to prevent that!"

"I don't need you stopping my work!" Skeptic brought the paper to his chest as he argued, his thoughts a mixture of anger, fatigue, and that addictive urge to keep looking, to search and question everything until he uncovered the truth. Only then will Skeptic be satisfied.

"You don't understand what I'm trying to do here, Oppy," Skeptic said, trying to keep his voice calm, but couldn't hide the shaking. "I'm doing this for the good of the flock, for us."

"How is thinking about that awful fucking Echo for the good of the flock?!" Oppy yelled, and a small part of Skeptic broke at hearing the fear in his voice. "How will that do us any good?"

"I'm trying to keep the flock safe!" I'm trying to keep you safe.

"The only one that needs to be kept safe is you, from your horrendous work habits!"

"If I can solve this, we won't have to worry about anything ever again!" You won't have to worry about anything anymore.

"Baby, I just don't think this is the right thing to do-"

"Well how could you?" Skeptic snapped, glaring at Oppy now, who just refused to listen to Skeptic, despite all the hard work he was doing.

"You're useless when it comes to thinking about anything other than yourself!"

Oppy's face fell, and that's when Skeptic realised his mistake.

He froze, dropping the paper that Skeptic had crushed into a ball again, staring and panting in shock at the words that had slipped out of him.

Why did he say that? No, he didn't mean that. Skeptic needed to apologise-

"Oh."

But then it got worse.

Oppy took a clumsy step back, away from Skeptic, as if Skeptic was the danger. Then Oppy chuckled awkwardly, his whole body trembling, and that's when the horror hit Skeptic.

Oppy waved a hand casually through the air as he said, "Okay, I understand." Skeptic could do nothing but stare in distraught horror, as he watched Oppy give him a friendly, fake smile, slowly piecing back together that mask that Skeptic had worked so hard to bring down.

Oppy took another step back. "I'll leave you be, from now on. So sorry to bother you, my friend."

Friend? Friend? No no no, not like this-

Skeptic tried to take a step forward, but the second his body moved, Oppy rushed out of the room, closing the door with a final, fearful look at Skeptic.

Then Skeptic was alone, and all he could think about was how badly he wished he wasn't.

Why did he do that? Why did he say that? Everything he did had been for Oppy, to keep him safe and happy, so then why-

Skeptic was frozen, staring at the door that Oppy had left through, his mind whirling with guilt, regret, anger- asking himself why, why, why!

But Skeptic still stood in that room, and he didn't move...

...and he didn't move....

...and he didn't move.

[desertduality]

for writing prompt... (ad astra) could we get a scene of scar gifting his feather to grian? (the one grian is wearing around his neck later)

I need to see it

I beg /nf

(unless I'm insane and we've already seen it in which case.. another pov of the scene mayhaps?👀)

I WANTED TO PUT THIS ONE IN THE ACTUAL FIC but I didn't know how I wanted to do it and it didn't really fit organically anywhere. So I am very excited to do it now. Hope you enjoy!! :D

Word Count: 1141

--------------------------

Grian doesn’t want to let him out of his sight. It takes Scar an embarrassing amount of time to figure this out — possibly due to how little Scar actually wants to leave Grian’s side, himself. After the trauma and separation of the past month, it’s comforting to have each other within arms reach. Not to mention their instincts going haywire to make up for lost time. 

So, Scar doesn’t realize that anything is wrong until a good week and a half after he’s been back home. They haven’t left the little rescue-base village yet, still living out of the room he’d woken up in for the time being; at least until Scar is a bit steadier, and mostly healed.

The bandages on his arms had come off yesterday, and Scar had gotten his first look at his new scars. They’re strange to look at — jagged streaks going all the way up past his elbows, looking for all the world as if his skin had cracked like porcelain. They glow when he uses his magic. Separate from the trauma of receiving them, he can acknowledge how cool they look. And really, these are the ones he can wear as a badge of honor. These are the ones that had saved Grian’s life. 

Cub comes by early in the morning to invite him out for a walk, and Scar hesitates. Grian is still sleeping, mouth open and snoring, and Scar doesn’t want to wake him. He hasn’t gone anywhere without him yet, either. He flounders for a minute, anxiety twisting in his chest at the thought of leaving him here, but—

He turns to Cub, who is watching him carefully, hands in his pockets and seeming completely relaxed. There’s no sense of urgency, here. It’s safe. Grian can sleep, and Scar can go outside. They will both be okay.

If it was anyone other than Cub, Scar doesn’t think he’d be able to do it. He quietly gets up from the bed and follows Cub out the door, leaving Grian undisturbed beneath the covers. The fluttering of trepidation doesn’t go away, but Cub smiles at him encouragingly, and so they go. They make their way throughout recently decorated pathways of their little village, reminiscing about old pranks and builds, and it’s nice. It’s normal. It’s nice to feel normal.

So of course, it all falls apart rather dramatically. 

They’re near the center of the town when it happens. A shiver runs up Scar’s spine, magic tingling in the air a mere second before eyes open all around him. It’s Grian, he knows it’s Grian — can feel it in his bones — but the shock of it banishes all reason from his mind. All he registers are the Eyes, and Eyes mean danger. 

He loses sense of time for a while, lost beneath the glowing blanket of his forcefield, mind whirling and senses in overdrive, memories flashing behind his eyelids like lightning. Distantly, he can hear Cub’s worried tones, knowing he has no clue what’s just happened, unable to perceive the Eyes the way Scar can. He sits in his panic attack, and eventually Grian arrives in the midst of his own, a frantic beacon of familiar magic. It’s—

Yeah. It’s dramatic.

Later, after they’ve both calmed down enough to be embarrassed, Scar realizes that they might have a problem. 

“I woke up and you were gone,” Grian explains, equal parts sheepish and irritated. “I just— I don’t know. I barely remember it.”

They’re sitting on a bench beneath a tree in the central square, slowly recovering from the flood of adrenaline in their systems. The bench is a new addition — an attempt from some of the other hermits to liven up the place a little. With the weight of an empty space off their backs, there’s room for creativity. There’s time to rediscover the joy of creating. Scar’s not quite at that stage, yet. Neither is Grian, it seems.

“The Eyes scared me,” Scar confesses.

“I’m sorry,” Grian says, softly guilty.

Scar shakes his head. “I’m sorry I left without telling you.”

“Yeah.” Grian sighs, shooting him a sad little smile. “We’re gonna have to work on this, aren’t we.”

“Add it to the list,” Scar says brightly. 

And they laugh. Sometimes, Scar is surprised they still have that capability. 

Someone has built a fountain in the center of the square, and Scar watches as a bird comes in for a landing, settling in the shallow bowl at the top for a quick bath, feathers fluffing and droplets flying. The feather attached to his ear blows in the wind, brushing gently against his neck. 

Oh. He has an idea.

Scar stretches out his wing to the side, ignoring Grian’s disgruntled confusion as he scans it intently, eyes narrowed in concentration. Eventually, he finds what he’s looking for, and without preamble, he grabs a feather and yanks. 

Grian lets out a startled sound of protest, his own wings fluffing up in agitation. “Scar!” he shouts. “I– What on earth are you doing?”

“Can’t a guy pull a feather in peace?” Scar asks teasingly, shrugging it off. “Besides, it was loose, anyway.”

He holds the feather in front of his face to examine it, shiny and clean. It’s bigger than the one hanging from his ear, but he thinks it’ll do just fine. He turns to Grian and holds it out, soft smile pulling at his mouth. Grian blinks at him in surprise.

“It’s for you,” Scar says.

“For me,” Grian repeats. He reaches out slowly and takes the feather, holding it delicately in his hands, staring down at it. He glances back up at Scar, emotion swimming in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

Scar nods, smile turning a bit sad, turning back towards the fountain to watch the bird. “When I was… When I was alone there,” he starts, voice growing quieter, thoughtful, “I just– I missed you. And I would look at this thing–” He gestures to the feather on his ear. “–and I’d feel– It didn’t fix anything, but it… made me feel like you were there, sometimes. Like part of you was with me.” Another bird flies down and joins the first one at the fountain. Scar turns back to Grian with a smile. “I want to do the same for you, you know? Give you a part of me.”

Grian stares at him, eyes glistening with emotion, and then he looks back down at the feather. It’s gray, but quickly turns purple in his gentle hands. It’s the first time that Scar doesn’t hate the color. 

“Thank you,” Grian says softly. 

Scar nods, nudging Grian playfully with his wing, and Grian rolls his eyes, smile widening. 

Later, under the incredibly intense scrutiny of Grian, Gem helps them attach the feather to a necklace. To Scar’s knowledge, Grian never takes it off.

[leeknowswifesblog]

My very first story here on Tumblr 💌

Set during Stray Kids’ Brazil concert trip, this is a slow-burn hurt/comfort fic focused on Chan pushing through unbearable pain in silence, hiding it behind his leader smile. But when Hyunjin notices what no one else does, everything begins to shift. Sometimes the strongest person needs someone to hold them too.

💔 angst / 💞 comfort / 🛏️ soft intimacy / 💬 Chan x Hyunjin

I poured my heart into this—hope you feel something when you read it.

————————————————————————————————————

Where it Hurts

Chan tried to keep his smile steady despite the sharp pain shooting up from his flat feet. The three-hour performance had taken its toll, but as the leader, he couldn't show weakness. Not when they had two more nights to go. Not when everyone else was riding the high of their success. Not when they needed him to be strong.

"That was insane!" Changbin shouted, eyes still alight with the electricity of the stage as they entered the hotel lobby. "Did you see how they sang along to every word? Even the Korean parts!"

Lee Know nodded excitedly, his usually calm demeanor broken by genuine awe. "Brazilian stays are something else, man. The energy in that arena..."

"I thought my eardrums would burst," Han added, pushing his sweaty hair back with trembling fingers. "In a good way, though. Like, I never want to forget that sound."

Chan forced a smile, shifting his weight subtly to relieve the pressure on his right foot. The pain had started as a dull ache during rehearsal that morning, but he'd pushed through. He always did. Because that's what being a leader meant putting everyone else first. Even when every step felt like walking on broken glass.

"Everyone did well today," Chan said, voice steady despite the fire burning through his feet. "Let's make sure we rest properly for tomorrow."

Hyunjin gave him a curious glance, eyes lingering a moment too long. "You okay hyung? You're walking a bit funny."

Chan's heart stuttered. Was his pain that obvious? Panic fluttered in his chest .. the last thing he wanted was to become a burden, a worry, a distraction from their success.

"I'm fine," he replied too quickly, forcing brightness into his voice. "Just tired."

Felix yawned dramatically, stretching his arms above his head. "Aren't we all? I could sleep for a week."

"But food first," Seungmin declared, eyes bright with anticipation. "I heard there's an amazing churrascaria nearby. Who's in?"

Everyone raised their hands enthusiastically, their faces lit with childlike excitement, except Chan, who feigned a yawn to hide the tears threatening to form in his eyes. The thought of standing for even a minute longer made his stomach clench.

"I think I'll have dinner in my room," he said with practiced casualness. "Need to review some footage from tonight's performance."

Always the responsible one. Always the leader. Always the excuse.

The group reluctantly departed, their excited chatter about dinner fading as they walked away. Chan watched them go, a hollow feeling spreading in his chest. They looked so happy , so carefree. He couldn't remember the last time he felt that way.

The moment they were out of sight, Chan's smile crumbled like a sandcastle in the tide. He limped heavily toward the elevator, leaning against the wall as the pain he had been holding in for so long escaped his mouth in a soft, broken moan. Alone. Always alone with his pain.

---

In his hotel room, he collapsed onto the bed with a pained groan that tore from his throat. His feet throbbed mercilessly, every heartbeat sending fresh waves of agony up his legs. He knew he should ice them, but even the thought of getting up again was unbearable. The doctor had been clear that morning.. he needed rest, no performance tonight. But how could he let everyone down? Let the fans down? Let himself down?

With trembling hands, he managed to untie his shoelaces, wincing as he pulled them off to reveal swollen, angry red feet. The pain brought tears to his eyes, hot and stinging.

"Just two more nights," he whispered to himself, voice breaking on each word. "You can do this. You have to do this."

He dragged himself to the bathroom, intent on taking a hot shower to soothe his aching muscles. But standing proved too painful, each attempt sending lightning bolts of agony up his legs. After several failed attempts, tears streaming down his face, he gave up, settling for wiping his face and changing into the hotel bathrobe.

The magnitude of his situation finally hit him like a physical blow. Alone in a foreign country, in too much pain to even shower, but worse than that was the ache in his heart.. a deep, hollow feeling that seemed to grow with each passing minute. No one had noticed. No one had checked on him. They had all gone to eat, laughing and enjoying their time, assuming he was fine.

As he always was. As he always pretended to be.

"I'm supposed to be the strong one," he sobbed quietly into his pillow, the fabric growing damp beneath his face. "The leader."

The word felt like a weight around his neck, dragging him deeper into the ocean of his isolation. Leader. The one who smiles through pain. The one who carries everyone else's burdens. The one who never asks for help.

But his pain was getting worse, each throb more intense than the last, making it impossible for him to even reach the painkillers on the nightstand. The only thing he could do was curl up in agony on the large bed, feeling small and forgotten.

A knock at the door startled him from his spiral of self pity. Quickly wiping his tears with the back of his hand, he called out, "Who is it?" His voice sounded foreign to his own ears, raw and vulnerable.

"Hotel staff, sir. I've brought your water."

Chan cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "Just a moment."

For a fleeting second, his heart had jumped—the soft-spoken tone reminded him of Hyunjin. That same gentle cadence. He sat up, wincing as fire shot through his feet, and arranged his face into what he hoped was a neutral expression. "Come in."

A young staff member entered with a tray of water bottles. "Here you are, sir. The hotel provides complimentary..." The man stopped mid-sentence, noticing Chan's reddened eyes and tense posture. Concern flashed across his face. "Are you alright, sir?"

"Yes, thank you," Chan replied with forced brightness, the smile on his face feeling like a mask that was too tight. "Just tired from the concert. You can leave them on the table."

The staff member hesitated, clearly not convinced, but nodded, setting down the water. "Will you need anything else, sir?"

"No, that's all. Thank you."

After the staff member left, Chan let his facade drop again like a heavy curtain. He reached for a water bottle but knocked it to the floor instead, watching helplessly as it rolled away. The simple task of retrieving it seemed as impossible as climbing a mountain.

He buried his face into the pillow, gripping it tightly as his shoulders shook with silent sobs. Tears slid down his cheeks, hot against his cold skin.

“Why does it hurt so much?”

Not just the physical pain shooting up his leg. The emptiness. The loneliness. The feeling of being surrounded by people who loved him but still feeling utterly alone.

The others weren't cruel. He knew that. They cared about him deeply. But somehow, being left behind stung more than he had expected, opening wounds he'd thought long healed wounds from a childhood spent being the responsible one, the one who never complained, the one who was always fine.

Minutes passed, or maybe hours. Time lost meaning in the haze of his pain. His head felt light, his limbs heavy. The world seemed to be slipping away from him, reality blurring at the edges. He had barely registered the distant sound of footsteps fast, urgent until his door burst open with a force that startled him from his half-conscious state.

"Chan!"

Hyunjin.

Chan's breath hitched, his heart leaping like a startled deer. He turned his head slightly, eyes red-rimmed and swollen, lips parted in surprise.

Hyunjin stood in the doorway, chest rising and falling rapidly as if he'd run all the way there. His brows were furrowed so deeply they almost touched, creating a line of worry between his eyes. His gaze.. dark, piercing.. swept over Chan, taking in everything at once: the way he clutched the pillow like a lifeline, the tear-streaked cheeks, the bathrobe loosely tied around his trembling body, the unnatural angle of his leg.

And then, just like that, Hyunjin was at his side, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. The warmth of his presence was immediate, almost overwhelming after hours of cold solitude.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, but there was an unmistakable sharpness beneath it. Not ange, hurt. Deep, aching hurt that matched the pain in Chan's feet.

Chan swallowed, his throat tight with unshed tears. "It's nothing," he managed, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue.

Hyunjin's hand was already reaching out, his long fingers gentle yet firm as they pressed into Chan's sole. Chan flinched, unable to hide his pain, a small gasp escaping his lips.

Hyunjin froze, his expression changing from concern to something deeper, more intense. His jaw clenched, a muscle jumping beneath his skin. "...You're shaking."

The simple observation broke something inside Chan. The wall he'd built around his vulnerability began to crumble, brick by brick. A lump formed in his throat, making it difficult to breathe. He turned his face away, unable to bear the weight of Hyunjin's gaze. "Go eat with the others. I'm fine."

The words sounded hollow even to his own ears, a script he'd recited too many times.

But then... a sensation so unexpected, so tender that it sent a shock through his entire body. Warmth against the sole of his foot. Chan looked down in disbelief to see Hyunjin pressing his lips to the inflamed skin, his eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration.

Chan's eyes widened, his heart skipping several beats before racing ahead. His whole body began to tremble uncontrollably, no longer from pain but from something else entirely.. something he'd been denying for far too long. He immediately sat up straight in bed, the sudden movement sending fresh waves of pain through his legs, but he barely noticed. Tears began to flow again, but these weren't tears of pain or loneliness. They were tears of being seen, truly seen, for the first time in as long as he could remember.

A soft sob escaped his mouth, raw and unfiltered.

"Don't say that," Hyunjin murmured against his skin, his warm breath sending shivers up Chan's leg. "You know, you know I wouldn't do that." His voice broke slightly on the last word, revealing his own vulnerability.

Chan couldn't look at him anymore. The intensity of the moment was too much, too raw. He wanted to say something.. anything.. but his words felt stuck in his throat, trapped by the storm of emotions raging inside him: the physical pain that had been his constant companion all day, the ache in his heart that had been there much longer, and this new feeling, this terrifying, exhilarating feeling that threatened to consume him whole.

He looked away again, avoiding Hyunjin's eyes, afraid of what he might find there.. or worse, what Hyunjin might see in his.

"Don't hide your face anymore," Hyunjin said, his voice rough with emotion. His touch was unbearably gentle as he cupped Chan's face, turning him back. "Please."

Their eyes met.

And in that moment, something shifted between them like tectonic plates moving beneath the surface, changing the landscape forever.

Hyunjin's thumb brushed away the remnants of a tear, leaving a trail of warmth on Chan's skin. His hand lingered a second too long, warm and steady against Chan's flushed cheek.

Neither of them spoke.

Neither of them moved.

The air between them was heavy, charged with everything they'd never said to each other, everything they'd been too afraid to acknowledge. It was filled with something unspoken, something that had been there for longer than either of them had cared to admit.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Chan didn't feel alone. The realization brought fresh tears to his eyes, but he didn't turn away this time. He let Hyunjin see them, see him.. not the leader, not the strong one, just Chan.

Hyunjin, who had been cradling Chan's face with a tenderness that made his heart ache, finally looked around the room, his expression growing more concerned with each passing second.

It wasn't like Chan at all.

Chan was always the type to keep everything in order, a physical manifestation of the control he maintained over his life and emotions. Even in the midst of bone-deep exhaustion, he would at least fold his clothes neatly on the chair or tuck them into his suitcase with methodical precision. But tonight, his clothes were scattered, untouched. His jacket was draped haphazardly over the couch. His stage outfit was still crumpled on the floor where he'd let it fall.

Hyunjin's eyes darkened as they landed on the untouched table, the room service menu still sealed with the hotel sticker.

No food.

His stomach twisted with guilt and worry.

He didn't even eat.

His grip on Chan tightened before he even realized it, his fingers pressing into Chan's skin like he was afraid he might disappear.

Chan felt the change in Hyunjin's touch. "Jinnie!” His voice was small, tired, almost childlike in its vulnerability.

Hyunjin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he moved with surprising gentleness, pulling Chan into his arms, wrapping himself around him as if trying to shield him from the world.. or perhaps from himself. One arm circled Chan's waist while the other cradled the back of his head, holding him against his chest.

Chan stiffened for a second, unused to being the one held rather than the one doing the holding. But then, as if a dam had broken, his body melted against Hyunjin's warmth, surrendering to the comfort he offered. He was too exhausted to pretend anymore, too raw to maintain the facade that had been slowly killing him.

Hyunjin pressed his lips together, his throat tight with emotion. His fingers ran gently through Chan's hair before resting against his nape, holding him close. The intimacy of the gesture was not lost on either of them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he murmured, voice heavy with something Chan couldn't place.. or perhaps was afraid to name.

"I didn't want to be a burden," Chan whispered against Hyunjin's chest, the words muffled but clear enough. The truth, finally spoken aloud, felt both terrifying and freeing.

Hyunjin's jaw clenched. His arms tightened around Chan, as if the very thought of him suffering alone was physically painful. "You—" He took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. "Idiot."

The word was harsh, but his tone was impossibly fond, filled with an emotion that made Chan's heart race.

Chan let out a weak chuckle, the sound watery and fragile. "Maybe."

Hyunjin pulled back just enough to look at him, his large hands cupping both sides of Chan's face again. His thumbs brushed under Chan's eyes, wiping away the remnants of tears, his touch impossibly soft. "Don't ever do this again," he said, voice firm but gentle, eyes intense with emotion. "Not to me."

The implications of those two simple words to me hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning.

Chan blinked, something warm blooming in his chest, spreading outward like ripples in a pond. But before he could find the words to respond, Hyunjin shifted his attention back to Chan's feet, his expression growing serious again.

Chan's feet were curled up tightly, the tendons visible beneath the skin, as if he had been holding in the pain for hours. Which he had.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Hyunjin asked quietly, his hands hovering over Chan's ankles, afraid to cause more pain.

Chan hesitated, years of automatically downplaying his pain warring with this new, fragile honesty between them. Finally, he gave a small nod, admitting weakness for perhaps the first time since becoming the leader.

Hyunjin sighed, a sound filled with both sadness and fondness. He began rubbing slow, comforting circles over Chan's ankles, his touch feather light. "You're really hopeless, aren't you?" The words were teasing, but his eyes were soft with an emotion that made Chan's heart skip.

Chan pouted slightly, a glimpse of his playful side emerging through the pain. "I thought you were trying to cheer me up."

Hyunjin huffed a laugh, the sound warming Chan from the inside out. "I am. You're just making it difficult." He reached for his phone and quickly called the hotel front desk, his free hand still stroking Chan's ankle in a gesture that felt remarkably intimate.

"This is room number 143. Send up some foods. Light but filling. And water. A lot of it." His voice left no room for argument, protective and commanding in a way Chan had rarely heard from him.

Chan blinked up at him, slightly stunned by the authoritative tone. "You didn't even ask what I wanted… and we have water”The last words came out of his mouth inaudibly.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked up at the corners. "Because you won't pick something that's good for you. You never do."

Chan gave him a half hearted glare, but Hyunjin only smirked before putting his phone aside, his expression softening again.

Then, with no warning, he scooped Chan up into his arms, one arm under his knees and the other supporting his back.

"Wha—- !" Chan spluttered, his face flushing with heat.

"You haven't bathed," Hyunjin said simply, carrying him toward the bathroom as if he weighed nothing. "And judging by how you can barely move, you're not going to anytime soon."

Chan's face burned hotter, embarrassment and something else entirely flooding his system. "I can—"

"Shut up." Hyunjin's voice was stern, but his eyes were gentle, filled with a tenderness that made Chan's protests die in his throat.

Chan shut up.

Hyunjin glanced down at him, amused and something more. "Good boy."

The simple praise sent a shiver down Chan's spine, and he buried his face in Hyunjin's shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering adrenaline of the concert. Maybe he was too tired to argue, or maybe.. just maybe.... he didn't want to. Maybe, for once, he wanted to be taken care of instead of being the caretaker.

The bathroom was warm, filled with the faint scent of lavender from the hotel toiletries. Hyunjin set Chan down gently on the closed toilet seat, crouching in front of him. His hands didn't leave Chan's legs, still rubbing slow circles against his ankles, each touch electric.

Chan, who had been trying to keep his composure, suddenly felt a lump rise in his throat. The gentleness of Hyunjin's hands, the concern in his eyes, the way he was looking at him..it was all too much.

Hyunjin was always the cool one. The composed one. The one who rarely showed concern in obvious ways. But right now, he was looking at Chan like he was something fragile…something precious. Something he didn't want to break.

And it made Chan feel both weak and stronger than he'd ever been.

"I can do it myself," he mumbled, staring at the floor, a last-ditch effort to maintain some semblance of the independence he'd always prided himself on.

Hyunjin scoffed, seeing right through him. "Yeah? Then stand up."

Chan hesitated, knowing it was a challenge he couldn't meet but unwilling to admit defeat so easily. He gritted his teeth, pushing against the seat. The moment he shifted weight onto his injured foot, a sharp pain shot up his leg, white hot and blinding. His body jerked involuntarily, and he nearly toppled forward, a strangled cry escaping his lips.

But Hyunjin was already there, as if he'd anticipated it. Strong arms caught him before he could fall, holding him steady, holding him close.

"...Right. You're doing great," Hyunjin said dryly, but his eyes betrayed his concern as he held Chan against his chest, their faces inches apart.

Chan let out a breathless laugh, genuine despite the pain. "Shut up."

Hyunjin smirked, but his eyes softened. "You first."

Their faces were close. Too close.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Chan could feel the rise and fall of Hyunjin's chest against his own, could feel his own heart racing, could feel his breath hitching just slightly. His fingers curled into the fabric of Hyunjin's shirt, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

Hyunjin was staring at him. Not teasingly. Not impatiently. Just... watching. His eyes roamed over Chan's face, taking in every detail, lingering on his lips for a heartbeat too long. As if waiting for something. As if asking a question he couldn't put into words.

The moment stretched between them, taut with possibility.

And for once, Chan didn't feel like a leader, responsible for everything and everyone. He didn't feel like the strong one, carrying the weight of expectations on his shoulders.

He just felt like himself. Seen. Understood. And not alone.

Not anymore.

The tension between them seemed to stretch into infinity. Chan felt himself leaning in slightly, unconsciously, drawn by something magnetic and undeniable. Hyunjin's eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to Chan's lips once more. The distance between them shortened, their breaths mingling in the small space.

Then..Hyunjin's expression shifted. Something flashed across his features.. hesitation, uncertainty, perhaps even fear. He pulled back abruptly, his hands still steadying Chan but his body retreating as if burned.

"I—" Hyunjin's voice was rough, unsteady. He cleared his throat, looking away. "Let me run you a bath."

Chan felt a pang of loss, of confusion, but nodded, trying to ignore the way his heart had leaped and then plummeted. "Okay," he whispered, unsure what else to say.

Hyunjin gently helped Chan sit back down on the toilet seat before turning to the bathtub, his movements suddenly stiff, mechanical. The soft sound of running water filled the silence between them, steam slowly rising to fog the mirror.

Chan watched Hyunjin's back, the tension visible in his shoulders as he tested the water temperature with his fingertips. There was something vulnerable about seeing him like this.. uncertain, careful, trying so hard to do the right thing.

"Not too hot," Hyunjin murmured, more to himself than to Chan. He added some of the hotel's bath salts, the scent of lavender intensifying in the warm, humid air. "It'll help with the inflammation."

Chan nodded again, words failing him. The almost-moment between them hung in the air, unacknowledged but impossible to ignore.

When the tub was half full, Hyunjin turned back to him, his expression carefully neutral. "Can you—" He gestured vaguely at Chan's bathrobe, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. "Or do you need help?"

"I can manage," Chan said quickly, feeling heat rise in his own face.

Hyunjin nodded, stepping back. "I'll—I'll wait outside. Call me when you're in."

Before Chan could respond, Hyunjin had slipped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Chan sat there for a moment, the silence suddenly deafening. His mind replayed what had almost happened..the way Hyunjin had looked at him, the closeness, the charged moment that had passed between them. Had he imagined it? Had he misunderstood?

With a sigh, he carefully untied his bathrobe, letting it fall from his shoulders. Every movement was slow, painful, but he managed to ease himself into the tub without crying out. The hot water enveloped him, and he couldn't suppress a groan of relief as it soothed his aching muscles.

"Jinnie?" he called out, his voice echoing slightly in the tiled bathroom.

The door opened immediately, as if Hyunjin had been waiting right outside, perhaps listening for any sounds of distress. Their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them again.. an acknowledgment of the fragile thing between them, neither of them ready to name it yet.

"Is it okay?" Hyunjin asked, hovering in the doorway, his eyes carefully averted from Chan's body, visible beneath the clear water.

"Perfect," Chan murmured, sinking deeper into the water. "Thank you."

Hyunjin nodded, his hand lingering on the doorknob. "I'll be right outside. Room service should be here soon." He hesitated, as if there was something more he wanted to say. Instead, he simply said, "Call if you need anything."

And then he was gone, leaving Chan alone with his thoughts and the soothing warmth of the water.

Chan leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, closing his eyes. The pain in his feet had dulled to a manageable ache, the hot water doing its work. But there was a different kind of ache in his chest now.. one he wasn't sure how to soothe.

He thought of the way Hyunjin had looked at him, so full of concern and something deeper. Something he'd tried to deny for too long. Something that had been there, unspoken between them, for longer than either of them would admit.

Outside, he could hear Hyunjin moving around, the faint sounds of him tidying up the room, making it comfortable for Chan's return. Taking care of him in ways no one had in a long time.

Chan's heart swelled with emotion..gratitude, affection, and something more complex. Something that made his breath catch and his pulse quicken.

Something that, perhaps, they would have to face sooner or later.

But for now, the warmth of the water and the knowledge that he wasn't alone anymore were enough. For the first time in a long time, as the tension slowly drained from his body, Chan allowed himself to be taken care of.

And in the quiet of the steamy bathroom, with Hyunjin's presence just beyond the door, he felt something he hadn't truly felt in years: safe.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

The water had grown lukewarm by the time Chan found the strength to pull himself out of the tub. His muscles felt looser, the pain in his feet reduced to a dull throb thanks to the bath salts. He dried himself off carefully and slipped back into the hotel bathrobe, cinching it tightly around his waist.

"Jinnie?" he called out, his voice sounding small even to his own ears.

The bathroom door opened almost immediately. Hyunjin stood in the doorway, his expression a mixture of concern and something more vulnerable that made Chan's heart skip.

"Need help?" Hyunjin asked, extending his hand.

Chan nodded, swallowing his pride as he took the offered hand. Hyunjin's fingers closed around his, warm and steady, then slipped an arm around Chan's waist to support him. The simple contact sent electricity racing up Chan's spine.

Together, they made their way back to the bedroom, which had been transformed in Chan's absence. The scattered clothes were gone, neatly folded in his suitcase. The bed was turned down invitingly, with extra pillows arranged at the headboard. On the small table by the window sat a room service tray with covered dishes, a vase with a single flower, and a pot of steaming tea.

"You did all this?" Chan asked, voice soft with surprise.

Hyunjin shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the color rising in his cheeks. "It wasn't much."

But it was. It was everything.

Chan let Hyunjin guide him to the bed, settling him against the pillows with a tenderness that made his chest ache. When Hyunjin moved to pull away, Chan caught his wrist, holding him there. Their eyes met, and the air between them seemed to crackle with something electric, something inevitable.

"Stay," Chan whispered, the single word carrying the weight of everything he couldn't yet say.

Hyunjin's breath caught audibly. He nodded once, slowly, eyes never leaving Chan's.

"Let me get your food first," he said, his voice low and rough around the edges. "You need to eat."

Chan reluctantly released his wrist, watching as Hyunjin brought over the room service tray and set it on the bed beside him. He removed the covers to reveal a simple but appealing meal.. soup, grilled fish, and fresh fruit.

"The hotel chef made this specially," Hyunjin explained, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I told them you needed something nutritious but gentle on the stomach."

Chan smiled, touched by the thoughtfulness. "Thank you."

Their fingers brushed as Hyunjin handed him a spoon, the brief contact sending warmth spreading through Chan's body. He tried to focus on eating, suddenly aware of how hungry he was, but he couldn't help stealing glances at Hyunjin, who was watching him with soft eyes.

"What?" Chan asked after a few moments of this, self-consciousness coloring his voice.

Hyunjin's lips curved into a small smile. "Nothing. Just making sure you're eating properly for once."

Chan rolled his eyes, but there was no heat in it. "Says the one who survives on iced americanos and two hours of sleep."

"Do as I say, not as I do," Hyunjin replied, his smile widening.

They lapsed into comfortable silence, the only sounds the clink of silverware and the distant hum of the city beyond the window. When Chan had eaten his fill, Hyunjin took the tray and set it aside, then poured them both cups of tea from the steaming pot.

"How are your feet now?" Hyunjin asked, his eyes dropping to where Chan's feet were propped on a pillow.

"Better," Chan admitted. "Still sore, but the bath helped."

Hyunjin nodded, setting down his tea. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to Chan's feet.

Chan hesitated only briefly before nodding, curious and a little nervous about what Hyunjin intended. Hyunjin moved to the foot of the bed, sitting cross-legged as he gently took one of Chan's feet into his lap. With careful movements, he began to massage it, his thumbs pressing into the arch with just enough pressure to relieve tension without causing pain.

Chan couldn't suppress the moan that escaped his lips. The sensation was incredible, a perfect balance of pleasure and relief that made his toes curl.

"Too much?" Hyunjin asked, immediately lightening his touch.

"No," Chan breathed, letting his head fall back against the pillows. "It's... it's perfect. Where did you learn to do this?"

Hyunjin smiled, continuing his ministrations. "Remember my ankle injury last year? The physical therapist taught me. I've been doing it for myself ever since."

Chan felt a pang of guilt. "I should have noticed you were in pain then. I should have helped."

Hyunjin's hands paused, his expression serious. "Like you're one to talk. At least I told someone when I was hurt." There was no accusation in his voice, only gentle concern.

Chan looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "It's different. I'm the leader."

"And that means you have to suffer alone?" Hyunjin asked, his voice soft but steady as he resumed the massage, moving to Chan's other foot. "That's bullshit, Chan."

The use of his name… not "hyung" or his stage name… caught Chan's attention. It felt intimate, personal in a way that made his heart race.

"I just..." Chan struggled to find the words. "I don't want to be a burden. Everyone already works so hard."

"And you think we don't worry when you push yourself too far?" Hyunjin countered, his hands still working magic on Chan's aching feet. "You think we don't notice when you're in pain but trying to hide it?"

Chan stared at him, surprised. "You noticed?"

Hyunjin met his gaze, something fierce and protective in his eyes. "I always notice. I just... didn't know how to help without making you feel weak. You're so stubborn about these things."

The admission hung in the air between them, heavy with implications. Chan felt something shift in his chest, a realization dawning slowly.

"How long?" he asked quietly.

Hyunjin didn't pretend to misunderstand. His hands stilled on Chan's foot, his gaze dropping to where his fingers rested against Chan's skin. "Too long," he finally said, voice barely above a whisper. "Years, maybe."

Chan's breath caught in his throat. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Hyunjin gave a humorless laugh. "Why didn't you tell anyone you were in pain?" He looked up, his eyes meeting Chan's with unexpected intensity. "Some things are hard to say out loud."

The room seemed to shrink around them, the air charged with unspoken feelings. Chan felt his heart pounding against his ribs, so loud he was certain Hyunjin must hear it.

"What if..." Chan began, then stopped, gathering his courage. "What if I want to hear it now?"

Hyunjin went very still, his eyes widening slightly. "Chan..." The single syllable of his name sounded like both a warning and a plea on Hyunjin's lips.

"Please," Chan whispered, not even entirely sure what he was asking for.

Hyunjin moved then, abandoning his position at the foot of the bed to edge closer, until he was sitting beside Chan, their faces only inches apart. His hand came up slowly, hesitantly, to cup Chan's cheek, his touch feather-light.

"I've been in love with you," Hyunjin said softly, each word careful and deliberate, "for so long that I don't remember what it was like before."

Chan's heart soared, his breath catching in his throat. The confession, so simply stated yet so profound, left him momentarily speechless. Hyunjin's eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of rejection, any hint that he should retreat.

Instead, Chan leaned into his touch, his own hand coming up to cover Hyunjin's where it rested against his cheek. "I think," he said, voice unsteady with emotion, "I've been waiting to hear that without realizing it."

Hyunjin's breath hitched. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Chan murmured, gathering his courage, "that I feel the same way. I just didn't know how to admit it.. to myself or to you."

For a moment, Hyunjin looked almost stunned, as if he'd never truly expected his feelings to be returned. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face, transforming his features with a joy so pure it made Chan's heart ache.

"Can I..." Hyunjin hesitated, his gaze dropping to Chan's lips. "Can I kiss you now?"

Chan's answer was to lean forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a kiss that was gentle at first, tentative, as if both were afraid the other might pull away. But when Chan's fingers threaded into Hyunjin's hair, pulling him closer, the kiss deepened, years of unspoken longing pouring into it.

Hyunjin's hand slid from Chan's cheek to the back of his neck, holding him close as if afraid he might disappear. The kiss was everything Chan hadn't known he needed… tender yet passionate, a confession more eloquent than words.

When they finally broke apart, both breathless, Hyunjin rested his forehead against Chan's, his eyes closed as if savoring the moment. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.

Chan smiled, his heart fuller than it had been in years. "Why did you stop yourself earlier? In the bathroom?"

Hyunjin opened his eyes, meeting Chan's gaze. "I was afraid," he confessed. "Afraid you were vulnerable and I was taking advantage. Afraid you might regret it when you weren't in pain and didn't need me."

Chan's heart swelled with affection. "I've never needed anyone the way I need you," he said softly. "And I don't mean just for helping me when I'm hurt."

Hyunjin smiled, his eyes suspiciously bright. "Good, because I'm not going anywhere." He shifted, carefully arranging himself beside Chan on the bed, mindful of his injured feet. "Is this okay?"

Chan nodded, settling against Hyunjin's chest as the younger man's arm wrapped around his shoulders. The position felt natural, as if they'd been doing this for years rather than minutes. "It's perfect."

They lay together in comfortable silence, the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted from both their shoulders. Chan felt lighter than he had in years, despite the lingering pain in his feet. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel alone with his burden.

"The others will be back soon," Hyunjin murmured after a while, his fingers idly tracing patterns on Chan's arm.

Chan hummed in acknowledgment, not wanting to think about reality intruding just yet. "What do we tell them?"

Hyunjin pressed a soft kiss to the top of Chan's head. "Whatever you're comfortable with. We don't have to figure everything out tonight."

Chan looked up at him, touched by his patience and understanding. "Just one thing, then."

"What's that?" Hyunjin asked, meeting his gaze.

"Stay with me tonight," Chan said softly. "Not just until the others get back. All night."

Hyunjin's expression softened, a smile curving his lips. "Try to make me leave," he replied, tightening his arm around Chan. "I dare you."

Chan laughed, a sound free from the weight of pretense and leadership and responsibility.. just pure, unbridled happiness. He leaned up to press another kiss to Hyunjin's lips, marveling at how natural it felt, how right.

As night settled over Rio de Janeiro, the sounds of the city filtering through the window like distant music, Chan found himself thinking that maybe, sometimes, it was okay to not be the strong one. Maybe sometimes, the greatest strength was in allowing yourself to be vulnerable, to be seen, to be loved.

And as he drifted off to sleep in Hyunjin's arms, the pain in his feet forgotten in the warmth of newfound love, Chan knew with certainty that whatever challenges tomorrow's concert might bring, he wouldn't be facing them alone.

Not anymore.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

[sansgout]

“ it is not in vain to have a good APPETITE . ” / from hannibal ☺️☺️☺️

@multimusae || here is the match made in . . . anything but heaven, everyone

Vincent hates this.

He hates that the man need only say that one seemingly insignificant phrase to give him pause—rather, to practically stun him in place, as if he's been administered a shock and must power through the residual prickles lining his skin. He swallows what he can only imagine would be a sour taste in his mouth, smoothing the lines on his face to something far more impassive before peering over.

“I would assume anyone showing up at my restaurant would have one of those, yes,” Vincent says plainly. His jaw's become tight, and though the eyes of his companion feel as though they're cutting right into him, he eases out a careful breath to loosen up. “And so it's my business to sate that. Has yours been satisfied”—his lips quirk, a hardly convincing smile—“sir?”

[moe-broey]

Wait what am I doing. I have Artwork.

[madamechrissy]

Escort! Satoru- part four

Pairings- Escort Satoru Gojo x shy CEO F! reader

Warnings- this is a LONG part like really long aha- mutual pining like a mf, obsessed ass/whipped ass Gojo, oral (f receiving) lots of tension, explicit sex, aftercare, honestly this got angsty asf, Satoru is bad at feelings. But dw the end will be happy,reader is HELLA rich and Satoru is almost a sugar baby- pretty woman vibes 🤭

<<<Part Three - Part Five>>>

Escort! Satoru dies when he sees you that night, he'd cum so many times to you it was ridiculous, why he was turning down your offers to make him cum he still can't figure out, why he's turning every offer is batshit insane. But all he can manage is to get women off and picture you with every single one of them, still trying to grin and go on dates, laugh and act like he enjoys any of it, when he can't get his mind of your lips half the time.

Escort! Satoru still has a five star rating, still makes money, he may get carpal tunnel from all the work his fingers put in though, since he can't manage to get hard around anyone anymore. He's shaking them even now as he struggles to form a word, as the woman richer than him is standing there in the night, prettier than any star in the sky- and since when was he so poetic, hmm? You're in a gown he can't describe, it fits your body so fucking perfect, your hair up in elegant curls, chandelier earrings dangling, enticing him with your bare neck and shoulders. He is dying to know what all of you looks like, not just parts of you, surely all of you is beautiful, so beautiful it makes a man like him stutter.

Escort! Satoru throws on a casual smile as you slip in the car with him now, giving him a hug and a kiss on his cheek, grinning so pretty at him. 'Is it weird to say I missed you?' your vulnerable question leaves him floored. 'Ignore that, I'm sorry... I bet a lot of girls get like confused...' he curses softly then, tilting your chin up when you look down. 'You're beautiful tonight' is his quiet, husky answer, and he can feel the heat of your cheeks when his thumb brushes one, and your breaths come quicker. 'Thank you, Satoru, you look handsome' you run a hand over his black dress shirt, slowly, as he sighs, pulling you against him then, lips an inch away. 'I was excited to see you-' 'shh' he puts a finger to your lips then, shaking his head. 'So am I'

Escort! Satoru has a hand slipping up your thigh, thumbing the garters there and sighing, looking down at where your thigh hits over your black stockings. 'God, look at you' his words fall out, and your breath quickens. 'How am I gonna make it through an auction when I wanna bury my cock in you?' your lips open and close, shifting your thighs now, as the desire floods through your body, your pulse quickening in the close proximity while you all let the driver lead you to this auction, when all you'd rather do is kiss him. You respect that he doesn't, you know you're delusional, but fuck if you're not falling into the fantasy that is Satoru- top escort there was. 'You want that?' your faint whisper makes him laugh without humor, it doesn't quite meet his eyes.

Escort! Satoru presses you down on his lap, hands on your hips, and you feel him then, cunt pulsing with need, exhaling as you're so close to lips that tempt you endlessly. 'What do you think, sweetheart?' His hoarse voice barely concealing the stark desire, your heat presses against his hard cock under his slacks, making your manicured nails press into his shoulders over the expensive tuxedo jacket, against his skin over the barrier. Satoru's blue eyes look up under snowy lashes, thinking just how beautiful you are, how much you make him ache for you. He cups your face, hand brushing along the delicate line of your jaw, as he sighs, drinking you in, the confines of the back of the car, that drives steadily underneath you.

Escort! Satoru makes you cry out when he grinds you on his cock, your throaty moan nearly ending him, he has such trouble holding back then, having thought of you every fucking day this week, stroking it so much it was damn near rubbed raw. Your earrings glitter in reflective prisms as Satoru kisses up your neck, as your head tilts to the side, allowing him further access. 'Satoru... mmm, please...' he's yanking your dress up over your hips, kissing lower over a breast, raising up and down as you pant, grinding on him. 'Please what, pretty girl?' His teeth nip your collar bone as the car stops, you both curse just a bit, you try to compose yourself, failing miserably, blowing a strand of hair off your face as you ease off his lap.

Escort! Satoru takes you inside the auction then. Arm and arm, the two of you walk past, people murmur about just how good you look, your business partners are glad to greet him, and Satoru seems to know more about you than you've even shared with him. Holding a glass of champagne, his hand on the small of your back, he grins easily at them, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin. 'She's still just obsessed with sushi, you know she has been to five different places this month?' the men laugh now - 'she eats it all the time at work too' and you giggle a bit, admitting 'I do enjoy it, yes' but when they leave you look up at him curiously. 'What, did some research- you keep snapping pics on your IG' you giggle then. 'stalker much? maybe you did steal them?' Satoru smirks down at you, sipping his champagne now. 'No way, just thorough so I get another good tip you know' you pause now, sighing, and Satoru notices your mood shift.

Escort! Satoru wants to tell you the truth, that he was scrolling through your IG because he's dying to see more, know more about you, but he tries to hold it in, what would you see in him? Surely you desire him, he can feel it in your heat, see it in how you move, but he knows he's wanted for that. The two of you fall into a quiet, mingling still, when a tall man with shocking pink hair grins at you, he's another business partner apparently, grabbing you to him. When Satoru watches you dance with - Sukuna is the name- something makes him insane then, he does not like you giggling in a man's arms, even as your eyes keep catching his across the room, he hates his hands on you, big and tattooed, taking over your much smaller frame, daringly low on curve of your spine.

Escort! Satoru leans along the wall, peering at his phone now, trying to act unbothered, clients fell for him all the time, but not once has he confused himself. He accepts the next jobs tomorrow, trying to remember what he's here for, getting angrier the longer you dance, which feels like an eternity. When you finally get back, you're smiling up at him, but pause, seeing his full lips are in a frown. 'It's boring, isn't it? Pretentious' you try to tease, but he just can't answer you, even as you're sitting next to him now, and the items are going on display, he's stiff and tense. You wonder if he had better things to do, better jobs to take- perhaps it's just too boring? You lean close, a hand on his shoulder, holding the little auction tag in your other hand, and his blue eyes are cold. 'Satoru I'm sorry it's so boring, is there anything you'd like? You'll still get paid, of course...' he sighs now, shaking his head, you have no clue what's running through his mind.

Escort! Satoru wonders how you are single, when so many men flirt with you, are you oblivious to just how gorgeous you are? To how perfect you are to not just him, but seemingly everyone? 'It's fine, sweets, I've been to worse events' you miss the fun, sweet man you've grown to enjoy in just a few visits. He's shifted from the car- was that because it was physical? Surely that's what an escort like Satoru excels at. You try to remember you're just a client, not more. As there is a beautiful painting from your favorite artist, you end up bidding on it, and Satoru watches you light up when you win, so pretty with your eyes sparkling, smile breaking him down, to where he can hardly stand to look at you. He knows then, he can't keep taking your jobs- he can't perform with anyone now, and he's falling for someone who probably wouldn't consider him in her life.

Escort! Satoru doesn't pick anything out, so you immediately pay him on his app as you two wait for the car, the night breeze blowing, and you give your exorbitant tip that has him suddenly furious, gripping you by your waist suddenly, making you gasp. 'What is wrong with you tonight?' you whisper, blinking back tears suddenly, and he shakes his head at you. 'Why are you giving me so much, I was a shitty date, altogether awful, and you still overpay' you swallow nervously now, looking down at the dress flowing from the wind at your ankles. 'Because I enjoy having you around too much' he pauses at your admission, when the car finally pulls up, and you hug yourself tightly. 'I'm sure you have many clients to see, I won't keep you, go ahead and take this one home, I'll wait.'

Escort! Satoru feels it, you're upset and you have it so, so wrong, god all he can think of is you. Your lip trembles with emotions as you bite it, and the driver waits for the two of you. 'You paid for an entire night, you know' his whisper drives you insane, your eyes lock then, lips so close you wish you could know how they feel. 'We don't have to spend the whole night, don't worry' he sees it then, the Sukuna man stepping out, eyeing you from the back, and Satoru scowls right at him. 'You're riding in the car' you go to protest when Satoru yanks you in the back seat, and you shove at him, turning and crossing your arms as the door shuts. 'You're gonna be rude all night then suddenly want me in the car?' He pauses now, cupping your face, breath dancing on your skin in a cruel tease. 'Let me make it up to you'

Escort! Satoru is soon in your penthouse, it's quiet and tense even then, so much unspoken between you, but Satoru knows one way to explain himself - and that's pleasuring you. He has you turned, ass pressed against him as soon as you look your door, unzipping your dress inch by inch. You barely breathe at the sensation, his fingers dancing down your spine, filling you with so much longing, as it pools at your ankles. He exhales when he sees you naked fully, turning you slowly, cock throbbing when he realizes just how beautiful you are. 'Fucking look at you' his words end you, as does when he's on his knees, worshipping you with ardent kisses up your inner thighs, until he's burying his face against your eager cunt once more. 'More, Satoru, please... more...' you're begging so quickly, as you're grinding on his pretty face, and he's drinking you up, looking at you with those blue eyes.

Escort! Satoru stands and finally you see his thick, long pretty cock spring out, you reach out and stroke it, watching his lashes flutter shut, hear his little whimper, before he's gripped your wrist, pulling out a condom from his pocket, handing it to you now. You rip it open and slip it on nervously, trembling before he is picking you up, cock pressing at your entrance, stretching you and burning with just his pink tip under the latex. 'Ah!' you're already crying out, but when Satoru sinks inside your heat, your slick cunt feeling so goddamn good he can only imagine what it's like raw. He knows then, he's so fucked for anyone, as he kisses down your neck, shoving his cock in so deep, slamming your back against your door as your nails grip him over the jacket he still wears. You're struggling to take him, so full, he's slamming into your cervix, gripping you so bruising - fuck you hope he leaves bruises, unable to get enough of him, as he looks at you now, jerking his hips and watching you shatter.

Escort! Satoru has you delirious, screaming against the door as he continues to fuck into your perfect cunt, you're so wet it's loud, dripping down his cock and drooling onto your tile floor. He's barely even noticed your home, so entranced with your warmth. 'Feel her, she wants to cum, doesn't she?' you just nod weakly, and Satoru presses in fully, as tears fall from your eyes, his eyes so dilated they're black. 'Cum then, pretty, lemme feel you milk him' he presses so deep you feel he's splitting you apart, so thick and huge as he's pulsing inside you, and your vision goes dark, all while he watches, cumming all around his length, and he can barely stand how good it feels, how beautiful you are for him, wishing it was him, and only him.

Escort! Satoru knows every spot on your body, lifting you up high and starting to pound his cock inside you like you're weightless, sweat breaks on your brow which he swipes away, drool falls down your chin and your cunt as he slams deep and rolls his hips again. 'That's it, c'mon sweets, again, you can do it' his encouraging ends you all over again, orgasm washing over you in waves, so many now you've lost count. 'C-cum for me Satoru' you whisper, and he gasps, before shutting his eyes with a moan, burying his head again, sinking his teeth into your shoulder as he cums so hard, so much, wishing he had no barrier, wanting to fill you full of him. He struggles to catch his breath, leaning you on that wall then, as you bury your own face, pressing the cutest kiss on his neck, right above his collar.

Escort! Satoru helps you clean up, careful as he brushes your hair and eyes you in the mirror, wiping you gently between the thighs, you're so weak you can barely move after cumming so much, he's helping you get dressed, fuck he gets you water and takes you to bed even. You're sitting against him as he strokes your hair, and you swallow down the sadness of him leaving after that, clinging your arms around his narrow waist, cheek against his heartbeat. 'Satoru how much for... holding me tonight?' your ask destroys him then, almost to tears at your vulnerability, as you make him question everything in his life. He shakes his head then, and you pause. 'One of your rules?' he nods quietly, unable to speak as your lashes lower, and you whisper an 'oh' before pulling back, leaving his arms empty. 'I'm so embarrassed at myself... please just forget this... I'll get you a ride home, okay?'

Escort! Satoru hates himself when he watches tears threaten to spill in your eyes, as you quickly get his ride ready. 'Don't be embarrassed sweetheart, please...' you pull away when he tries to touch your cheek, so many feelings you feel dizzy now. 'I can't just have sex, I thought I could but... it meant too much. I can't... see you again, I'm sorry.' Your words crush him now, when you're standing at your door, unable to look up at him, and his lips open and close, then open again, his own tears threatening. 'What do you mean-' you cut him off, leaning up and kissing right by the corner of his mouth, he grabs you tightly now, never wanting to let go. 'You were amazing to me, thank you for tonight, I... hope you get everything in the world you want, Satoru' you turn and shut the door, leaning against it and sobbing hoarsely, because you know it then- you're in love with him - with a man that sees you as a job. Hopeless, for the first time in your life feeling that way, it seems cruel.

Escort! Satoru gets another ridiculous amount of money with your tag as an 'apology' and scowls when he gets home, throwing his phone across the room, stumbling to his bathroom as he yanks off his tie. He sees your lipstick imprinted on his collar in his reflection, before yanking the dress shirt off, struggling to forget you somehow. But you're in his mind, in his heart, in his fucking dreams that night- why couldn't he have held you? Why couldn't he have kissed you, told you how he felt? He calls you several times, but you don't answer a single one, driving him to the point of insanity, but you're too scared, you've already fallen so far, and you're not sure if you can ever stand to see him again and have any hope of moving on.

Escort! Satoru tries to live his life again, and you try to live yours, but it's just... different now. His endless clients and your loneliness, constantly aching to reach out, but now you know better, you know you fell in love when you were never supposed to. Three months later he sees you for the first time, you're in line at the coffee shop by his place, and his breath catches when he sees the sunlight hit your face, you falter as you see him, giving him a small smile before turning away and walking out. A sad smile that makes him run out after you, shouting your name out on the sidewalk, you pause and turn, he's getting closer, too close, it's too much. 'Yes, Satoru?' your voice is quiet, hollow, the yearning in him makes him want to pick you up right then and there. 'Can I ask you on a... date?' you gasp in shock now, blinking rapidly. 'What?' he sighs, stepping even closer, like magnets pulling him in, he inhales a sweet scent he never thought he would again, murmuring - 'a date, with me, please' eyeing lips he can't wait to brush on his own, waiting for your answer.

I knowww this got angsty OMG - not me tearing up writing this while I'm still super sick UGH lol- dw next/last part will be much cuter lol <3

taglist 1- @shydroid3000 @aducksmokingquack @miya4life @ravenbc @yenayaps @nezukuwu @etsuniiru @ieathairs @kenqki @princess-bblgm @belovedxiao @ninikrumbs @ieathairs @myahfig4 @theelegantpotato @vvaoo @aldebrana @celestep004 @whoisteona @ladyneisa @lililovely78 @gamerhere @wstaley2 @allthesqueaks @slut4donghyuck @maisiefrancesca @yittten @femaholicc @jjknanamin @that-b-word-lol @devastyle @mat-mat-mat @jkslaugh97 @ovela @mxgnolia @rikiswifeyyy @kaayyhunnyy @gojos1wife1 @arabellasolstice @01ve3rz @jud3thedude @firemoonlightfly @vyluvs @artist1936 @kyelikesanime @alygator77 @seternic @qlucoise @mysticranger575 @undermegumisbed

[himbosandhardwear]

Steve is rifling through Eddie's collection of magazines, while he's waiting on Eddie and Wayne to get done fixing the dryer(Wayne's fixing, Eddie's getting in the way it sounds like), when he realizes how insane the assortment is; Heavy Metal, Car and Driver, Rolling Stone, National Geographic, OMNI, MAD, even a copy of Good Housekeeping. It's all so Eddie though, to have so many varying interests. He's a little jealous, if he's being honest with himself.

"You have a lot of stuff," he comments when Eddie comes back, closing the copy of Rolling Stone.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, let me just..." He starts kicking a pile of clothes under the bed.

Steve huffs a laugh. "No, I meant you have a lot of interests." He waves the magazine. "Hobbies and stuff."

Eddie nods, continues to shove piles of stuff under the bed anyway. "I guess, yeah. I tend to jump from thing to thing though. Last night it was painting miniatures, tonight it could be writing a song. I don't really get a say in which one. Oh, nice, I've been looking for this," he says, holding up a random T-shirt.

He watches Eddie get distracted by the new discovery and leave the rest of the pile where it's at, smiling to himself as Eddie goes on a tangent about merch vendors at concerts being the real enemy of the people.

"How do you know what you like?" Steve inadvertently blurts out during a gap in Eddie's tale.

He turns toward Steve. "What do you mean?"

What does he mean? "I guess... It's just, I like cars and sports and girls. That's, like, kind of it. And since I started being friends with Henderson and Robin and you I've figured out that's, like, the most basic shit a guy could be into. Level One Dude Interests. So, I guess I just want to know how you find other things? And how will I know if I'm interested?"

"Hmm." He frowns softly. "I've never had to think about it before. I kinda just...fall into things. I like it or I don't."

"Okay, but what's it feel like?"

Eddie puts the shirt down, forgotten again in a moment, and sits. "What does it feel like when you think about cars and sports and girls?"

Steve really thinks about it. Nothing is as consuming as when he was younger, but he does remember a vague sense of excitement, a feeling of connection with the people he surrounded himself with, who shared his interests. But he hasn't felt that in a while. Maybe he wasn't as into those things as he thought, was only into the connection.

"You're having very deep thoughts over there," Eddie points out with a grin.

"Shut up." He grins back. "I think maybe I don't actually know what it feels like to like something because I like it, not just because everyone else likes it. You know what I mean?"

"Well, yes but no." He waves both hands to indicate his person and also the chaos of the room around them.

"See? This is why I'm asking you. If anyone can help me figure out what I like it's you."

Eddie slaps both hands together and rubs. "A project! Excellent idea!"

Wasn't his idea but sure.

"First we have to get you exposure to new things. Movies, TV, music, culture. Then we'll rate how you feel about each demographic. Your music taste is already improving so that's good. Movies, I'm thinking 12 Angry Men to start. Food? Authentic Mexican. We're gonna get you excited about shit!" He seems excited enough for the both of them, which is great. "Excitement is key! You want enthusiasm, yearning even. Your interests should consume your every waking thought. When I'm consuming a new hobby, I'm focused like a shark, I'm obsessed. I go to bed thinking about it and wake up thinking about it. Excited to get back to whatever it is. I wanna talk about it, share it with other people. Complete and total immersion. You wanna marry that interest. You know what I mean?"

Steve blinks at him, stunned into silence. Eddie's just described how Steve feels about him...

Oh.

Oh.

[cinnasite]

nerd gone viral ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

꩜ pairing: nerd!armin arlert x female reader

꩜ warnings: explicit content, language

꩜ word count: 3.7k

꩜ synopsis: a harmless campus interview turns your best friend into an overnight internet sensation—and suddenly, every thirsty TikTok comment feels like it’s whispering your secret.

☆ art cred: @/juvianism on instagram :3

You nearly spill your coffee all over your Political Theory textbook when you unlock your phone. Another two hundred comments on that TikTok. You know you shouldn't check—you probably watched it about a million times yesterday alone—but your fingers move before your brain can scream at you to stop.

@/bookslvt01: ok but the way he talks about virginia woolf??? NEED HIM CARNALLY @/colossalthighs: i’d let him annotate my entire body fr @/arlertmeout: he looks like he apologises before choking you

You bite your lip, half-entertained and half-horrified, scrolling through the endless comments under what was supposed to be an innocent campus interview. The video has 2.3 million views now, completely insane for something filmed outside the modest main library—the same one you find yourself in at the moment—on a random Tuesday.

"Ugh, don’t tell me. You're watching it again, aren't you?"

Your head snaps up comically quick, caught red-handed, to find Sasha sliding into the seat across from you at your usual table, eyeing your phone screen with knowing amusement. 

"What? No."

"You are! You have that weird, glazed look in your eyes. The same one you get when Professor Ackerman extends the deadline for our research papers." Sasha unwraps what appears to be her third sandwich of the day. You don't mention how it’s only twelve in the afternoon. "You know you could just talk to him about it, right? He's literally one of your best friends."

"And say what exactly?" you finally close the godforsaken app, trying to ignore how your screen time report is definitely going to be embarrassing this week. "Hey Armin, I've watched your viral video more times than I can remember and I'm having very inappropriate thoughts about your tongue piercing that I absolutely shouldn't be having about my friend?"

Sasha snickers, a piece of lettuce tumbling to the table from her mouth. "Well, when you put it like that... actually, yes. One hundred percent that."

"Sasha, I can't just—" you frown in frustration, inhaling deeply. "It's complicated."

"How is it complicated? You've had a crush on him since freshman year."

"That was different. That was before we became friends. Before I knew him." You lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling as fond memories overwhelm you. "Back then he was just this cute, nerdy guy in my intro psych class who got excited about statistical analysis and always smelled like that vanilla body wash I love. I used to sit behind him just to watch him get all animated during discussions about cognitive behavioural theory, you know?"

Sasha merely rolls her eyes. "Jesus, and you call me demented. Well, what about now?"

"Now? Now, he's Armin. He's my friend who stays up until 3 A.M. to help me with my assignments, who brings me soup when I'm sick, who texts me the dumbest memes about historical figures," you slump forward, close to pouting. "He's the guy who spent six hours teaching me how to play that MMO he's obsessed with just because I mentioned being bored over winter break. He's..."

"He's the guy you're infatuated with," Sasha supplies helpfully.

"I'm not," you start to protest, then wisely opt to give up instead. "Okay, maybe. But that's exactly the problem. I can't risk blowing up our friendship just because some stupid interview made me realise I want to climb him like a tree."

"A tree with a tongue piercing," Sasha adds with a cheeky grin.

"Fuck’s sake, don't remind me," you let your head rest against the table. "Do you know how many times I've replayed that two-second clip where he licks his lips? It's pathetic."

"It's not pathetic, it's kind of sweet. There's a difference." Sasha takes another bite of her sandwich, her eyes evidently lighting up. "Besides, you don't know that he doesn't feel the same way. Have you seen how he looks at you during our study sessions? Boy's got it bad."

"He looks at me like a friend, Sasha. Because that's what we are."

"Believe me, friends don't look at friends the way he looked at you last Friday when you were explaining your thesis argument. I thought he was going to combust from sexual tension."

Before you can blatantly disagree, you hear an all too familiar voice behind you.

"Sexual tension about what now?"

Your stomach drops directly through the floor. You turn around carefully, and there he is—Armin Arlert, campus's newest digital sensation, standing there with that signature bemused expression he gets when he catches you and Sasha gossiping. His blonde hair is mussed like he's been running his hands through it, and he's wearing that adorable blue sweater that brings out his eyes deliciously.

"Oh, um..." You scramble for an explanation, panicking on the inside. "We were just talking about... about..."

"About how Professor Ackerman's lectures are basically academic foreplay," Sasha jumps in smoothly. "All that tension and buildup with no satisfying conclusion. I mean, hello?"

Armin laughs, the sound warm and comforting. "That's fascinatingly accurate, I’ll admit." He shifts his weight, and you only then notice he's carrying his laptop bag and what seems to be a bag of takeout. "Mind if I join you? I brought Thai food and figured you might be hungry since you've been here since—," he checks his phone, "—9 A.M., according to the text you sent complaining about how it’s criminal that the library opens so early on weekends."

Your heart does a little flip at his consideration. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to." He slides into the chair next to you, close enough that you can smell his cologne—a rich blend of velvety caramel and toasted cinnamon that positively makes you want to lick him all over. 

Stop. None of that, you horny bastard.

"Besides, I figured you might want to hear about the latest developments in my accidental internet fame."

Sasha perks up at once. "Hell, yeah. Have you been recognised on campus yet?"

"Five times yesterday," Armin appears to lament, pulling containers out of the bag. "Including once in the bathroom, which was... awkward, to say the least." He hands you your usual order without asking what you want. "But the weirdest part is definitely the DMs."

"DMs?" you pipe up, failing to ignore how domestic this feels what with him knowing exactly what you like. Typical, precious Armin.

"You have no idea," he opens his laptop and turns it toward you two with a nervous twitch. "I've gotten marriage proposals, offers to 'show me a good time,' and at least a hundred messages asking about my tongue piercing specifically."

Your face burns as you push away the thought that you've been mentally composing similar messages. "That's... wow."

"The worst part is, most of them are asking if I'd be interested in demonstrating its uses." He fidgets with his glasses, coming across as embarrassed but also endearing. "I had no idea that thing would cause such a reaction."

"Well, it is pretty noticeable," Sasha remarks with a meaningful peek at you. "Very... attention-grabbing."

"I guess." Armin glances at you pointedly. "What do you think? You've seen the video, right?"

The question is innocent enough, but something in his tone makes you look at him more carefully. There's an out-of-the-ordinary implication that you can't quite put your finger on. "Uh... yeah, I've seen it," you manage to croak out. Terrific. Could you get any stiffer?

"And?"

"And what?"

"What did you think?"

You stare at him blankly, trying to figure out if this is a normal friend question or if you’re incorrectly perceiving the foreign edge of curiosity behind it. "I thought... I mean, your book recommendations were really good. Very passionate."

"Passionate," he repeats, the fleeting flash of understanding across his face confirming your earlier weariness. "That's interesting."

Sasha's phone cuts through the uneasiness with its incessant buzzing, and she scans it with obviously fake surprise. "Oh no, would you look at that. I have to go... meet... someone... about... a... very real thing... I have." She begins gathering her stuff with awfully suspicious speed. "You two have fun talking about books. And passion. And tongue piercings."

"Huh? Wait. Sasha—" you squeak out, but she's already dashing out of the private study room you had booked for the both of you until late afternoon (traitor). Which leaves you alone with Armin, who's scrutinising you with an expression you can't quite read.

"Alright," he speaks after a moment, closing his laptop and leaning back in his chair. "Want to tell me what you actually thought about the video?"

"I already told you."

"No, you gave me the safe answer." He tilts his head slightly, studying you with purpose. "Come on, we've been friends for two years. I know when you're holding back."

You hastily shove some noodles in your mouth, avoiding his gaze. "I'm not holding back."

"Really? Because Sasha seemed to think you had some important opinions about it."

You make a mental note to start drafting your plan for the girl’s well-deserved comeuppance. "Sasha talks too much."

"She does," Armin agrees. "But she's usually right about things. Especially when it comes to you."

The rarely there confidence in his tone makes you look up and, when you meet his gaze, the intensity catches you off guard. "What do you want me to say?"

"Did you know," he continues conversationally, "that TikTok shows you analytics about who's viewed your videos?"

Almost instantly, your heart stops. "What?"

"Mhm. Very detailed analytics. Including multiple views from the same account." His lips quirk up in a small smile. "Want to guess how many times your account shows up in my viewer list?"

You feel heat creeping up your neck. "I don't know what you're talking about." You briefly consider denying reality, blaming a technical issue, or claiming a glitch in the matrix—but none of it sticks.

"Seventy-seven times," he announces, the metaphorical checkmate hitting you straight in the chest. "As of this morning."

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. He knows. "I can explain—"

"Can you?" He angles himself forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Because I've been trying to figure out why my very good friend has watched a boring thirty-second video of me talking about books seventy-seven times."

You want to run away, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "I... the algorithm is weird sometimes?"

Armin chuckles, low and warm, absent of any malice. "Try again."

"I was checking to see if the view count was going up?"

"Nope."

You're quiet for a long moment, trying to figure out how to get out of this without completely humiliating yourself. You don't suppose it's too late to jump out of a window? Ultimately, you sigh in defeat. "Okay, fine. Maybe I watched it a few times."

"A few?"

You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms in defiance at the unsolicited endless interrogation. "More than a few."

"How many more?"

You want to strangle him, and not in the sexy way. "You’re being annoying."

"Come on." His voice has dropped slightly lower, and there's something almost akin to teasing in it. "I told you about the marriage proposals. Fair's fair."

You mutter a profanity under your breath, groaning. "Fine. I watched it a lot. Happy?"

"No. We’re getting there, though. Why?"

"Why what?"

Armin’s glee sharpens into something ravenous, a flicker of desperation lurking beneath his carefree demeanour—like he’s itching for you to say exactly what he needs. "Why did you watch it seventy-seven times?"

Your lungs feel too tight, too exposed. "Because..."

"Because?"

"Because you looked really good, okay?" The words come out in a rush. "Because watching you talk about literally anything is incredibly attractive, and because that frustrating part where your tongue piercing shows has been tormenting me ever since the video came out."

The silence that follows is eerily deafening. Armin simply stares at you, and you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

"Shit," you grumble, burying your face in your hands. "I'm sorry. That was completely out of line. I know we're friends and I shouldn't have—"

"Hey. Look at me."

The way he asks convinces you to peep through your fingers, reluctant but unable to look away. His expression is attentive and focused—definitely not one of disgust.

"You think I'm attractive?" he questions softly.

"I... yes?"

He blinks, his usual calm shattered by the raw vulnerability in your voice. His fingers tremble, revealing the fierce hope inside that there’s a potential chance that someone sees him as more than the sum of his quirks.  "Even though I'm just a loser who gets excited about obscure paranormal documentaries and spends too much time playing video games?"

"Especially because of that," you admit, having never been more sure of yourself.

His answering smile is slow and devastating. "Good to know."

"Good to know?"

He hums, reaching across the table, and gently pulls your hands away from your face. "I've been wondering if you'd ever see me as more than just your friend who helps you with your homework."

Your brain, without a doubt, malfunctions. "What?"

"Did you really think I started bringing you food and staying up late just because I'm a good friend?"

The words disarm you. You’re trapped between incredulity and the dawning comprehension of what he might be suggesting. "I…"

"And did you think I learned how to play your favourite songs on guitar just because I had time to spare?"

"Y-you said you wanted to practice—"

"And I presume you thought I got this piercing because I was feeling rebellious?"

That stops you short, confusion apparent in the furrow of your brows. "You didn't?"

Armin's grin turns almost predatory. "I got it because I overheard you and Sasha talking about how cool you find them. This was back in October, after you'd been dating that guy with the lip ring."

You feel like a kettle left on the stove too long. "You... what?"

"You said, and I quote, 'There's something about tongue piercings that's beyond exciting.’ Something along the lines of how the person has to be bold enough to get it, but there's the simultaneous insinuation of what they can do with it."

"I’m going to kill myself," you gape at him in horror. "You heard all of that?"

"I was sitting right behind you in the campus coffee shop. You weren’t exactly shy about it." He shifts closer, and you can spot the hint of silver when he speaks, "I made an appointment that very afternoon."

"You got a tongue piercing because of something I said about another guy?"

"I got a tongue piercing because I wanted to be the guy you were talking about."

The confession hangs in the air between you, charged and electric. You stare at him, trying to process this complete change in everything you thought you knew about your friendship. 

"I've been trying to get your attention for months. I was starting to think I'd have to do something drastic."

In spite of being made to face terrifying revelation after revelation, you manage to stutter out a breathless laugh. "More drastic than getting a tongue piercing for me?" 

"I was considering learning to play your favourite video game."

You snort despite yourself. "You hate that game."

He shrugs casually, as if the lengths to which he would go for you knew no bounds. "I know. That's how desperate I was getting."

The atmosphere between you feels tense now, full of possibility and two years of unspoken tension. Armin traces your knuckles and the simple touch sends heat shooting up your arm.

"So," you say, trying to stay as composed as you possibly can. "What happens now?"

"Now," he starts, standing up, "you tell me what exactly you were thinking about during those seventy-seven views."

He's close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look at him, and the unwavering want in the blue of his eyes makes your breath catch. "I was thinking..." you trail off, feeling timid with his attention on you.

"You can do it. Use your words for me?" his voice has gotten rougher, huskier, and it sends delightful shivers down your spine.

"I was thinking about what it would feel like."

"What would feel like?"

"Your piercing. When you..." You gesture vaguely, cheeks burning. Armin's hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "When I what?"

"When you kiss me," you whisper.

"Just kissing?" The question is loaded with underlying intentions, and you shake your head slowly.

"Tell me what else you were thinking about."

"Armin..."

"Please." The plea is hushed but insistent. "I want to know what's been going through your head."

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry as you let go of the entirety of your self-restraint. "I was thinking about what it would feel like on my body. What it would feel like when you use your mouth on me."

His pupils immediately dilate at your words. "Fuck."

"Is that... is that okay?"

Instead of verbally affirming, he leans down and kisses you. It's gentle at first, tentative, but when you react by fisting your hands in his sweater and pulling him closer, he deepens it. The first brush of his tongue against yours has you gasping, and when you feel the metal of his piercing, it sends intoxicating pleasure shooting through you.

You break apart, breathing heavily, and Armin rests his forehead against yours.

"How was that?" he asks earnestly, voice raspy.

"Good," you breathe. "Really good."

His smile is full of care but there's primal desire behind it. "And the piercing?"

"Want more of it."

He brushes his thumb across your lip again. Truth be told, it’s plain torture. "You know, we're in public right now."

Every wall you built is crumbling under the weight of him, and all you can do is let it. "I know."

"Anyone could walk by and see us."

"I know."

"And you don't care?"

You drag your hand up his thigh, stopping just shy of where he clearly wants it, "Not even a little bit."

He kisses you again, harder this time, and you can't help the soft moan that escapes when his tongue meets yours in another dance of display. The sound seems to flip a switch in him, because his hands are tangling in your hair and he's pressing you back against your chair.

"God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he murmurs against your lips.

"Tell me ‘Min."

"Since freshman year. Since that first day in psych class when you argued with Professor Smith about the ethics of behavioural modification."

You draw away just barely, shaking under the intimacy of his declaration. "That long?"

"That long." He doesn’t think twice before trailing his teeth along your jaw, and when the metal of his piercing digs into your flushed skin, you whimper needily. 

"You were so assertive, so brilliant. I was completely and utterly gone."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you were dating that business major asshole, and then when you broke up, we became friends,” he hesitantly halts his ministrations to flutter his eyelashes at you, “I-I didn't want to ruin it." 

Good heavens, you didn’t stand a chance from the beginning.

"But then you kept looking at me like... like you wanted me too, and I started hoping..."

"I did want you. I do want you." The admission comes out whinier than intended, but you can’t bring yourself to be bothered at this point. "So much."

His hands tighten in your hair. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You’re unaware of how many minutes pass as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours, and the way he tastes like mint and something uniquely him. You dig your nails lightly into his sides, claiming him in an act of fervent possession. His breaths mingle with yours and the world outside your tangled bodies fades until there’s nothing but lust burning between you. By the end of it, your chests rise and fall in tandem.

"We should probably get out of here," he mumbles, peeking around the library.

Craving Armin has left you dazed, vision glassy as you attempt to make sense of your surroundings. "Right. Um, your place or mine?"

He pecks your nose, full of affection, tenderly guiding you. "Mine. My roommate's gone for the weekend."

You start gathering your things with shaky hands, hyperaware of the way Armin is observing you. When you bend over to pick up your bag, you hear his sharp intake of breath.

"Something wrong?" you ask innocently.

"N-nothing," he mutters, skittishly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

The walk to his dorm feels like it takes forever, full of stolen glances and the kind of anticipation that makes your skin feel too tight. When you reach his room, he fumbles with his keys for a moment—so fucking cute—before getting the door open.

You haven’t had a lot of time this semester to crash at his dorm—neat and organised, with anime posters on the walls and stacks of books and manga everywhere. But you barely have time to take it in before he's pressing you against the closed door, urgency lacing his actions.

This time, there's nothing apprehensive about it. His hands are everywhere—your waist, your back, squeezing your ass—and when you arch against him, he makes a low sound of approval.

"You taste so good," he shudders against you. "Everything I’ve imagined and so much more."

"You imagined this?"

"Every night for two years." His mouth moves to your neck, nibbling along your throat. "What you'd look like, what you'd sound like when I made you come."

The words send heat pooling low in your belly, prompting you to press your thighs together instinctively. "Fuck, don’t say shit like that.”

"Why not? I’ve been longing for you. All of you," he whispers, pulling back to look at you with dark, lidded eyes. "You’re not getting away until I’ve had my fill."

It would be an understatement to say that you hadn’t foreseen this when you woke up today. That you'd be spending hours with your legs over Armin's shoulders, forgetting your own name; the compassionate, stammering genius the internet drooled over. Too bad he’s not on the market. It would be a treat if his fans could see him like this—flushed and breathless, fingers gripping your hips like he’d die without you. Armin Arlert, golden boy of TikTok, practically begging to let him ruin you.

You grow dizzy at the promise in his voice. "Please."

He lets his hand trail lower, indecently tranquil, and just as you think he’ll do something reckless—he pauses, smirking wickedly.

"Want to find out what this piercing really feels like when I eat you out?"

[markluvrrr]

mark one shot

☆ starring. mark lee x fem! reader

☆ summary. Mark was having trouble with composing a song for his upcoming solo album. But then it clicked, he was missing something. You.

☆ warnings. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT oral sex (fem receiving) fingering, recording sex, unprotected sex (don't do this), creampie, mark is sexy asf

☆ wc: 1.5k (not proofread. i wrote this in one sitting oops)

ᯓ Mark was hard at work these past few weeks, in between working on his solo album and promoting for NCT Dream, he almost had no time for you.

But nowadays, majority of the time he was in the studio, you were too. You were becoming clingy, but not unbearingly clingy. You just needed to be in the same presence as Mark, or you'd go insane.

You watched as Mark played with a few keys on his keyboard, adding and deleting stuff on the screen. He was producing one of the songs for his album all on his own, and he was having trouble.

"Babe, you should take a break." You call out, sitting up on the couch that was across the room from the desk that had all of the equipment needed to make music.

Mark sighs, taking his headphones off and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I just can't figure out what's missing..."

You hum, understanding how stressful this was for him. He needed to complete the album before the deadline that was fast approaching. "You will Mark, you always do."

He smiles at that, standing from his chair, stretching before falling onto the couch next to you, his head landing in your lap. You play with his hair as he stares at the ceiling, deep in thought. The sound of his breathing steadied your own.

You watched as a light bulb turned on in his brain, and he sits up with a gasp. "I know!"

"What?" You ask, almost as excited as him.

"Uh, I'll need to get your opinion first," Mark starts and you urge him to continue. He hesitates for a moment before finally stating, "I need your moans in the song."

Your eyes widen, almost choking on your own spit. "Woah, lets unpack that..."

"No way your fans would be chill with that, for one. Same with your company, babe." You explained, and Mark listened intently before smirking as you finished.

"It'll be fine, they'll be super quiet in the song, like barely there. I could get away with it. If my fans notice, then they notice." Mark reasons and you sigh in defeat.

"I'm fine with it if you are sure." You smile, kind of excited to do this.

Mark's hand is now on your thigh, looking at you teasingly. "How about we do it now?"

You hadn't been intimate in a while because of Mark's packed schedule. You bit your lip, fuck, you were pent up from all these weeks without him. "God, please."

Mark's hand leaves your thigh and you watch as he reaches over to the microphone he had set up next to the computer, bringing it a little closer and pressing record. "I'll ask one more time, are you sure you're okay with this?" He asks as he settles back next to you.

You nod, smiling lovingly. "Yeah I am, Mark."

His hands trails up your thighs, leaning in and his lips are finally on yours, determined and needy. You bit his lip in desperation, and he opens his mouth enough where you can slip your tongue.

Your hands were bunched on his t-shirt and his hands were under your skirt, dancing on your skin and setting it aflame. When you pull back for air, Mark keeps eye contact as he pulls your panties to the side, his cold fingers brushing your clit making you whine.

"Mark." You whisper breathlessly, your hands now on the hem of his shirt, and he lets you take it off in one swift motion. "Pretty boy."

He blushes at this as he takes your shirt off too, leaving you in your bra. You decide to push your own skirt down, impatience taking over you. "Please, I need you."

"I know baby, just wait." He murmurs, one hand absentmindedly rubbing your inner thigh as the other pets your hair. Then, finally, his hand leaves your thigh and touches you where you craved Mark most.

It started off as light, slow circles on your clit. "You're so wet, baby." He smirks, as two of his fingers now slide up and down your folds, before he dips them into your entrance. "Mmm, more." You moan.

He pushes them inside to the knuckle and starts curling them right where you liked it most. "Fuck, Mark!"

You were soon filled with disappointment when he pulled his fingers out of you. You watched as Mark slid off the couch and sunk onto his knees, pulling your panties down with him, settling his head in your thighs.

You felt his breath tickle your folds before he dives in, tongue lapping at you like a dog in heat. Your hands fly to Mark's hair in no time, turning you into nothing but a whimpering mess.

His tongue sucked on your clit as his fingers curled into you again, hitting your g-spot at every angle. "Ah, fffuck, Mark.." You slurred, pulling his hair harshly, making him groan against you.

Mark could feel your walls clenching his fingers as his mouth does wonders on your clit, and you could feel the tightness in your stomach about to snap. "Mark, I'm gonna..."

"Cum for me, baby girl." He rasps against your heat and one last prod at your g-spot had you seeing stars, moaning loudly as you came undone.

Mark doesn't stop, still devouring you while you shook above him. "Shit, stop, 's too much!" You whimpered.

You had to pull his head back for him to stop, and Mark looks up at you with a dazed grin, his mouth covered in your juices. he looked so beautiful like this.

He licked his fingers clean of your juices, never breaking eye contact, before raising from his spot on the floor. You wasted no time in unbuckling his belt, pulling his boxers down along with his pants as fast as possible.

"I need you inside of me right now." You said desperately, and Mark flipped you over on the couch so that you were facing the wall, back arched, and he was standing behind you.

Mark's hands found purchase on your ass first, giving it a playful smack which made you whimper embarrassingly loud.

Looking back, you watched as Mark's other hand pumped his hardened cock slowly, tip leaking precum, as he finally places it between your folds, rubbing it up and down teasingly.

"Mark, please." You whined, and Mark just chuckled. "So impatient, baby. I'll fuck you real good, promise."

You silently screamed as Mark enters you for the first time in a while, his big cock stretching you painfully as he slowly bottoms out. Soon, the pain fades away. "Can I move?" He whispers, his hand on the small of your back, soothingly rubbing it as he waits.

"Yes." You sigh out as Mark pulls out of you before slamming right back in, making you cry out. He soon finds a good pace that had you gripping the couch and moaning loudly.

"Such a tight pussy, made for me." Mark whispers in your ear, voice raspy, as he leans over you, kissing your neck and leaving marks you were gonna have to cover up before you left the studio. Thank god this place was sound proof and had no cameras.

"Harder," You whined. Mark obliges, and soon your legs were shaking. He thrusts deep inside, you swore you could see the outline of his cock if you looked down. "Oh, fuck, right there!"

Mark was getting close now too, his soft groans turning into desperate moans and whimpers. It was always music to your ears whenever he made those noises. "Cum in me, baby."

"Fuck, you sure?" Mark groans, thrusts getting sloppy as his hand slides down your chest to your clit, applying pressure there. "Please." You moan, and Mark holds his own orgasm off until you cum again.

After a few more moments, the pressure on your clit got too much and your legs were shaking uncontrollably, Mark's hands digging into your hips to ground you as you screamed his name.

"That's it baby, let go for me. You're so beautiful." Mark praises as he finally thrusts into you one last time before releasing inside you.

Your pants filled the room, and Mark pulls out of you before flipping you over. He watches as his cum drips out of your folds and groans at the sight. "Such a good girl."

Mark pulls his clothes back on quickly before grabbing tissues, wetting them with the water bottle on his desk and cleaning you up. He kisses your thighs tenderly while he does.

"I love you, Mark." You murmur as your fingers cascade through his hair. He smiles up at you with those eyes that made you melt. "I love you too."

After you got dressed and calmed down, you and Mark decided to review the audio. Even you found your own moans sexy as you listened.

When Mark added them into the song the next day, you realised he was right. The song did need them, making it so much more seducing like he was trying to go for.

You decided you'd help him out with his music more often after that.

© markluvrrr

[valleydolli]

౨ৎ The Wolf of Wall Street ౨ৎ

Summary: You have it all. Birkins, Louboutins, Chanel, you name it, you’ve got it! You're probably the luckiest girl in the world. You fly first class, have a personal driver, a personal chef, a private jet. There isn't anything in this world that you don't have. All thanks to your crook husband. The Wolf of Wall Street.

CW: Minors DNI, Smut, Reader and Sukuna refer to themselves as “Daddy and Mommy” (It’s in the film.) Obviously this fic is inspired by the wolf of wall street movie!

WC:3.4k

Authors Note: erm errr hi, i hope i did well for the ones that were excited for this but if i didn’t you can slap me. please.

It’s as if the lights in the club only shone upon you once you walked in: your Hervé Legér dress and your Louboutins to match. You’re drop-dead gorgeous. A renowned supermodel. Everyone wants to either be you or be with you. 

No in between. 

You’ve arrived at the club hosting your after-party for one of your modelling shows, and of course, all eyes are on you. You were the star of the show. The muse. From across the room, your friend notices a particular man staring holes into you. “Oh my God, look up there. Don’t be obvious,” she points out. “He wants you, mhm. You think he’ll come over?” She questions. 

You flip your hair, looking over at where she’s pointing to and tilt your head in confusion. “Who is he?” You ask, sipping your drink, staring back at him. 

Your friend's head nearly snaps off her neck. “You don't know him? Sukuna? Sukuna Ryomen?” Your friend is practically frantic. You roll your eyes at her. “Well, obviously, if I did, I would overreact just as much as you.”

“He’s like a reallly stinkin’ rich playboy,” she slurs. He’s… okay— No, you’re lying to yourself, this guy is insanely attractive, holy shi– oh my god, he’s walking over. “He’s walking over!” Your friend yells, causing you to choke slightly on your drink. You turn your back on him as if you didn’t see him make it clear to you that he was making his way to you. 

You let the bartender know you need another shot, and as you go to pay for it, a large hand with a black card stuffed between his fingers creeps its way in before you. You turn to see this “Sukuna Ryōmen” up close and personal. He really is a sight for sore eyes. You fully turn your body facing this handsome playboy, waiting for him to start the conversation. 

“You are gorgeous,” Sukuna says as he takes your manicured hand and places a kiss on top of it. A grin forms on your glossy lips.

“You wanna tell me something I don’t know?” He chuckles. He likes your confidence. He leans into your ear and whispers to you. “I have a Maserati waiting outside. How about I take you out for a ride, hmm?” 

“I think I like that idea.” 

You really liked that idea. 

“Mmm fuck,” you whimper into Sukunas ear as you ride him in said Maserati. Your arms are wrapped around his neck as you take his 9 inch dick in and out of your pussy. You’ve been riding him for an hour now, and it is very clear that you're already addicted. 

“You’re doing so good, baby, hmm? You have me, I'm all yours.” He moans while gripping your waist. It’s as if you’re both scared the other is going to slip away. 

“Ride me faster, gorgeous.” You oblige instantly, quicken your pace. Your thighs are burning so good. You don’t want to stop. “P-please S’kuna. It’s so go— od. It’s so good,” you sob. His dick is hitting all the right places, constantly. 

You feel your stomach tighten. You’re going to cum for the third—no fourth time? You really can’t remember.

There’s already a thick messy ring of your cum around the base of him from the other nth amount of times the two of you came. He’s definitely going to need to get his slacks dry cleaned after this.

“I’m cumming.” You say dazedly. 

“Look at me. Look at me when you cum.” Sukuna demands, as he grabs your cheeks, forcing you to stare at him. You’re a mess but you make it look so fucking sexy. 

He starts to plough his hips into you. Roughly. The sound of your ass slapping onto his thick thighs was like a symphony. 

“Yeahhhh, cum with me baby, with me, just me.” He begs. And you deliver, you both cum, groaning into each other's mouths and looking into each other’s eyes. 

Shit. 

“Are you free tomorrow?” He asks you as he catches his breath. 

“Mhm, why?”

“I wanna take you out. Properly.”

He places wet kisses on your chest while waiting for you to say yes. He knows you’ll say yes, so there isn’t a worry in his mind. 

“Okay, you can take me on a date. But I have extremely high expectations, Sukuna.”

“I’d expect nothing less from you. You deserve it.”

—

Sukuna takes you to a Michelin-star restaurant the very next day. Paparazzi outside snapping pictures of you opening the Hermes bag he bought you, after only meeting you twice.

He’s already hooked.

It was all over the magazines within the week. You were becoming some sort of it couple. He took you to parties, you were in his “business meetings,” you were his arm candy, and he was… your ATM. Your ATM, which you were slowly falling for. Though you were starting to wonder how much money your ATM Sukuna had. He was reckless with his money. Not a care in the world. As if it were an endless stream of money. He can’t just be some playboy leeching off his daddy’s money, no way. 

After three months of the two of you dating, he takes you to the South of France, proposing to you. It was a dream. The hot sun gleaming on your skin. A small choir singing ‘Young and Beautiful’ while you walk towards him, waiting for you with a gorgeous rock made specifically for you. The perfect cut, the perfect size. He really thought about this.

About you. 

The wedding was perfect too, he spent months planning it to your standard of course. It was something out of a fairytale. He honestly didn’t care about what he wanted. Just what you, his princess, his duchess, wanted. He was your fairy Godfather. Your prince charming. Your duke. For better or for worse. In sickness and in health. Till death do you part.

—

“Keep your eyes shut baby don’t be nosey.”

Sukuna is about to show you your wedding present… well one of your many wedding presents. You carefully tread in your wedge heels, trusting in your newly wedded husband to guide you to whatever other present he has bought for you. You can hear seagulls flying around you. The smell of the salty sea. What the fuck did he get you? The damn beach?

“Okay… are you ready?”

“Yes, oh my god, you’re edging the fuck out of me right now Kuna.” You’re gently hopping up and down waiting for him to take his hands away from your eyes.

He can feel the apples of your cheeks from how giddy you are. He will die spending his money on you.

Gladly.

“Imma do a count down.”

“Three…”

“Two…”

“One…” He quickly removes his hands from your eyes, waiting for your reaction. You’re speechless. You take many looks between Sukuna and the fucking yacht sitting in front of you right now. With your name on it?!

“Are you for real…?”

“You got me a… fucking yacht? With my name on it?! Oh my God!” You jump into Sukuna’s arms, leaving lipstick marks all over his face.

“Come on, duchess. Let me show you around.”

You cruised the mediterranean sea for two weeks before coming back to your new home, on the upper east side.

—

It took a while for Sukuna to admit to you where his money was really coming from. Honestly, he was shocked you didn’t know who he was. Everyone knew who he was. 

“So, what did you think I did for a living?” 

“My friend said you were some rich playboy. Thought it was all daddy’s money to be honest,” You admit. 

“Da-Daddy’s money?! Are you kidding me? I have an amazing business going!”

“Amazing business my ass, Kuna you’re a crook.”

“No, baby, stop calling me a crook. You don’t get it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, should I call you a scammer? A con artist? a fucking swindler?!” 

Sukuna grabs onto your face, pursing your lips. “I work as a businessman, just say… I’m a businessman. Okay?” 

“You’re a businessman.”

“Good girl!” He places a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Mmphh get off!”

You obviously weren’t the happiest lady finding out about your husband’s true profession, but once he handed you a Himalaya Birkin bag, you couldn’t give a single fuck, what your husband’s job was. 

He was a crook, and you didn’t mind one bit. 

You have it all. Birkins, Louboutins, Chanel, you name it, you’ve got it! You're probably the luckiest girl in the world. You fly first class, have a personal driver, a personal chef, a private jet. There isn't anything in this world that you don't have.

All thanks to your crook husband.

The Wolf of Wall Street.

Sukuna Ryōmen. 

—

It’s been three years since you married Sukuna. You now have the most beautiful, sweetest little girl. Your life is perfect. Up until the past few weeks… Sukuna has been… misbehaving. So much so that the FBI has been on his ass. And he’s acting as if he’s got nothing to worry about. He has everything to worry about. You can’t lose this life of luxury, no way. Yes, the life you had before was luxurious, but it’s nowhere near on par with what you have now. Like, who’s going to hire a crook's wife, this shit cannot go public.

You’re holding a cold glass of water in your hands. Your husband is sleeping peacefully in your shared bed. Snoring like a damn pig.

Fucking imbecile. 

You chuck the cold water in his face. He instantly wakes up, acting as if he’s being drowned. Shooting up, see you standing at his side with a not-so-happy expression. 

“Baby, what the fuck?!” He yells, “What was that for?!”

“Sukuna, I have had it up to here with you. I love you, I do,  but I really love the flow of money we have, and if we lose it, and you go to prison, you’ll lose me too, I’m sorry. I can’t be a prison wife, look at me!”

“Oh, so you’re using me for money? I should have known I couldn’t trust you! All you do is swipe my fucking black card, for shoes and clothes you don’t fucking need.”

“TRUST? SUKUNA, YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU WERE A DAMN CROOK UNTIL A YEAR INTO OUR DAMN MARRIAGE! AND I DO FUCKING NEED THEM THANK YOU!”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN, BUT YOU'RE TOO STUPID TO THINK ON YOUR OWN. A DUMB MODEL WITH NO DAMN BRAIN!”

You gasp dramatically, throwing the rest of the water at him, walking out of your room, leaving him to scream at nothing. 

“YOU KNOW BABY, YOU'VE REALLY GOT ANGER ISSUES, MAYBE YOU SHOULD GO TO THERAPY AND WORK ON THAT YOU FUCKING PSYCHOPATH.”

You storm back to him with another full glass of water ready to be poured. You’re not playing around, so he better watch his mouth. And choose his next few words carefully.

“FUCK YOU!”

“Don't you dare, throw that at me. Don’t you fucking dare. Come here, give me a kiss, sugar, you look so beautiful right now.” He puckers his lips, hoping that you’ll do the same. 

“Apologise. NOW.”

He wipes his hands across his face, stretching the skin around his eyes, “Okay, okay, okay, baby, I’m sorry. I am sorry.” He throws his hands up in the air, surrendering to you. “It’s been tough, I’ll be honest, but I’m fixing it. I promise you I’m working on it and it’s under control. So, I don’t need a woman that doesn’t know anything about business, IN MY GODDAMN EAR COMPLAINING.”

Yes, the rest of the water was thrown at your husband, including a broken glass, scattered across the floor. You haven’t slept in the same bed as him since. Of course, he’s been sleeping on the sofa. Do you have guest bedrooms? Yes, plenty, but why the fuck would you let him sleep in them. He tried to, but not only did you lock the doors, you hid all the duvets from him, leaving a little blanket for him in the living room.

He’s lucky it’s the summer right now.

He tries to start conversations with you, but it never really works unless he uses your daughter as a scapegoat.

“Look, it's Mommy. Say hi, mommy.” Sukuna tells your baby girl, picking up her hand, waving it for her. He’s walking into your dressing room holding your baby. You see her tiny hands make grabbing gestures through the mirror, telling you she wants you to carry her. You take her from Sukuna’s arms, kissing her cheek, causing the baby girl to show her gummy smile. While Sukuna is awkwardly standing next to the two of you. 

“What?” You bluntly ask. 

“Can daddy get a kiss too?”

You look him up and down before walking to your daughter's room to place her in her crib. Purposely swaying your hips from side to side, with your pathetic husband trailing behind you, of course. 

“Please?”

You shut the door, placing your hand on your husband's chest, pushing him back into your dressing room. Sitting on your vanity chair, you turn to him, “No, daddy can’t get a kiss, cause he’s been a very, very bad boy, right?” You tilt your head, pulling a pouty face. A pouty face he would personally die for.

Sukuna drops to his knees, picking up your smooth leg, kissing up from the tip of your toes to your thigh before you stop him, grabbing his jaw, whispering against his lips. “I don’t think Daddy should touch Mommy for a very, very long time. And d’you wanna know something else, daddy?”

“What?” He whimpers. 

“Mommy is so sick and tired of wearing panties.” You slowly open your legs slightly, showing Sukuna the surprise under your dress. He gulps nervously, eyeing your bare cunt. “In fact, I threw them allll in the trash.”

“God…”

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” 

He shakes his head, telling you he’s fine, but his body is on fire right now. 

“Nothin’, mommy…” He’s practically drooling onto your thighs. God, you’re amazing. “But, can daddy just have… one touch, please? Just one?” He slowly moves his head closer to your pussy, but you snap your legs shut on his head.

“Umph!”

“I said no touching.”

“God, baby, this is enough to get me off.” You hear him mumble.

“Ugh,” You open your legs, pushing him off you. You're going out with your girlfriends, so he needs to back off. You are still very much so, not over your argument from two weeks ago.

You shove your French-tipped toes into your heels, walking towards the front door. “I’m going out.” 

Sukuna looks you up and down, You’re wearing the skimpiest outfit known to mankind. “Y-you’re um… going out like that?”

You raise a brow.  

“Is that a problem?” 

“Baby…” he places both hands on your arms, gently stroking them. “Baby, of course it’s a problem. You’re practically naked. You want me to go to prison for murder?”

“You're about to go to prison for fraud, Sukuna.” You throw his arms off your body, attempting to slam the front door in his face, but of course, he catches it before you can. 

“Baby, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You wave.

—

Sukuna misses you. He misses his wife. He misses the breakfast you would make him before ”work.” He misses your kisses. The way your pussy would suck in his cock— sorry. He even misses when you yell at him. At least you were talking… in some way. He needs to fix his work troubles; each year, it’s become more and more difficult. But this year they’ve been on his ass more than usual. He feels as though it might be the end of the life he’s been living. 

Goodbye luxury, hello poverty!

Shit.

The next morning, he sends your daughter off with your mother so he can spend some time with you. 

Only you (:p)

You’re asleep right now, so you might go crazy if you find your daughter, not sleeping in her cot, but obviously, he’ll explain. He got his assistant to go on an early shopping run, buying many, many presents for you, you know, money talks. He’s made you breakfast, not the personal chef you guys have, him. Crazy right? Even a path of roses from your bed to the kitchen. He’s gone all out for you. Now he’s just got to wait for you to wake up… or he could just wake you up himself.

He walks into your room, and you’re wide awake. Your head slowly turns to him. Panda eyes, smudged lipstick, the whole lot. You’re scowling at him, and he’s smiling at you. 

“Hi, Duchess,” he says as he carefully treads towards the beast you. “Did you have fun? It looks like you did.” 

“Why are you in here?”

Sukuna tries his utmost best not to roll his eyes at you. He shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath before answering you. 

“I made you breakfast, come, come.”

You don't move.

You’re now both staring at each other, waiting. You’re waiting for him to leave and he’s waiting for you to get the fuck up. 

You lose the staring contest. 

He’s thrown you over his shoulder, bringing you down to the kitchen, plopping you into your seat.

Sukuna spreads his arms wide open, showing you the breakfast he prepared for you, with a grin on his face. It’s all your favourites, you can't even try and be mad at him. A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, and he notices. He runs around the table, coming to place many sloppy kisses on your face.

“I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’ll never forgive myself, but pleaseee forgive me. Please? I miss you.” 

“I miss you, too.” You say quietly, but enough for him to hear.

“I know you do, baby.”

“Ugh, don't be cocky.” 

You spend the whole day with Sukuna. He doesn’t leave your side. He already showered, but got back in the shower just to be next to you and fuck you slowly agaisnt the wall. Telling you how sorry he was for what he said to you. He also fucked you on the bed, the couch, the kitchen, anywhere you could think of, he fucked you there. Let’s just say, your mansion is about to be christened for the second time.

Every time he slid into you, it felt like his first. The squelching sound of your wet cunt fuelled him to fuck you harder and harder. Using you as his personal flesh light. And you love that. It makes your cunt throb, nonstop. You like it when he uses you. He’s breathlessly grunting in your ear, biting down slightly with his canine. “Daddy’s sorry, baby. So fucking sorry. Mmm, I love you Duchess, fuck.”

“Love you t-too, Daddy.”

Sukuna’s hips continued to roughly plough into you back and forth; so roughly, your head was constantly banging against the headboard. “Thank me, baby. Thank daddy for making you feel so fucking good.” You’re completely dazed; in another world. You feel your husband gently slapping your face, trying to bring you back to earth. Your body is limp. All you can feel is the wetness of Sukuna’s thick cock pummelling in and out of your pussy. He really has reduced you to being a flesh light. 

“Dont make me wait, Duchess, you want me to fucking stop?”

You let out a choked sob, “No, please ‘m sorry, so sorry, please don’t stop.”

Sukuna shoves his face right into yours, smooshing your cheeks together, painfully slowing down the perfect pace his hips were fucking into you. “Say. It.”

“Mmm, th-thank you, Daddy, thank you so mm-uh-ch.” A huge grin plants onto Sukuna's face. He likes it when you’re like this. Obedient. Not when you’re throwing glass cups and ignoring his presence. He hates that. It upsets him. Really. His beautiful, amazing, sexy wife, not giving him the time of day? 

Just take his life!

“Goood girlll,” he sighs. “I love you like this baby. A needy little slut that can’t function without my dick, huh?” Your wet walls pulse around him as he teases you, prompting a chuckle out of him. 

“Mm mm, I can’t, I need you so bad.”

He flips over pressing your body into the mattress, sliding back into you, pulling out of you slowly and slamming his cock roughly into your cunt. 

“Missed you so much, missed your pussy so *slam* fucking *slam* much *slam*.”

You can’t help but scream. It hurts so good. The white ring of your wetness and his pre cum circled around the base of Sukuna’s cock. Dripping down onto the heavy balls that were slapping your sensitive clit. He speeds up his thrust again, nudging at your cervix. The louder you moan, the harder he fucks you, you let it get to this point. How could you not let him touch you for so long? This is what it does to a man. Turns him into a damn animal. 

“Daddy, please, I’m gonna cum, I’m onna cum so fucking h-ard— oh god!”

Your eyes roll completely back to the back of your head, as you cum around Sukuna’s thick cock. Your pussy doesn’t stop spasming; it can’t. The sensation you’re feeling is intense and out of this world. You might have to argue with your husband more if this is how he’ll fuck you afterwards. 

Sukuna is seconds behind you, throwing his head back loudly, groaning out, into the air. Hips flush against your ass.

Thick ropes of cum spurt out into your womb. He doesn’t stop cumming, he can’t.  Two weeks of no sex is a long time for the two of you. Usually, you’re at it twice a day. One to wake you up and one to put you to bed. This right here was a world record, so is the fat load he just emptied inside of you. Honestly, he’s secretly hoping that’ll get you pregnant from this.

“Come ‘ere.” 

He pulls your limp self towards him, hugging you tightly. Placing thousands of kisses on the top of your pretty head. 

“We’ll be all right, Duchess, don't worry your pretty little head.”

“We’re set for life. They’ll never catch my ass.”

extra note: i’m sorry if the smuts bad… i dont know ive been finding it difficult to write it. so i’m sorry:( also i wrote an ending where sukuna was gonna go to prison but no. not my man! also i clearly really want sukuna to squish my cheeks… not my ass cheeks. my cheeks -_-

© 2025 @valleydolli please don't copy or translate any of my work. all rights reserved. (I will find you if you do.)

[kamospeach]

plot: richboy!gojo takes his cute girlfriend golfing

content warning: exhibitionism, very nasty, pervy rich boy gojo mix, gojo is the biggest horndog ever, girly girl reader, established relationship, cunniilingus, fingering, missionary, public asf, they get caught, tad second hand embarrassment, cowgirl, dirty talking, breeding, implied blowjob, very nasty

peachy's yap: idk how i came upon this idea but it makes me wiggle my toes.

you weren't exactly sure how you ended up getting your guts rearranged on your boyfriend's golf cart. you do remember being in his bed as his head laid on your stomach. while your fingers lazily ran through his white fluffy hair.

the two of you had been insanely bored for the last three days. you were both back home from college, and your parents had the audacity to go on a trip together, leaving the two of you alone in satoru's gigantic mansion for a whole week.

you weren't overly excited to see each other either, you went to the same school for fucks sake. this summer was a bust, suguru was in italy, shoko was with her girlfriend's family, and you two were... there.

"toruuu," you whined lightly pulling at his hair to get his attention. he groggily lifted his head to look up at you. forcing his eyes open after your fingers lulled him to sleep.

"yeah, baby?" he asked, chin resting on your tummy as he tried to keep his eyes open. he was failing terribly by the way. you had finally come up with an idea, knowing gojo would be all for it.

"remember how you said you wanted to take me golfing?" you asked, and gojo jumped up as if he had never been asleep. he quickly walked off to his closet, grabbing what you assumed was the golfing outfit he bought for you, probably well over a year ago. just as you suspected, he walked out with a pleated skirt and cropped polo.

"i've been waiting for this day for a year now," he laughed to himself, throwing the clothes at you. "i'm about to go get dressed." he giggled, running off to the closet. an hour later, the two of you were on his golf cart off to the private golf course in his very own backyard.

"i can't believe you made me wear this short ass skirt." you huffed arms crossed and gojo had the nerve to just laugh. the skirt was so old you didn’t even fit into it anymore. your ass peaked out but gojo reminded you that the course was private.

"i didn't make you do anything, i just gave you a sense of security." he nodded to himself as if that was the smartest thing he had ever said. you shook your head at his statement, not even bothering to argue with your strong-headed boyfriend.

when gojo had finally taken you to where you would play, he got off the cart. you watched his every move not understanding a damn thing he was telling you. all you did was admire how mouth watering sexy he looked in his richie rich get up. a black short sleeve polo that unironically matched yours, and beige slacks.

this fit was almost more attractive than his workout compression shirt. the way his arms bulged under the cotton mesh as he slipped on his gloves, or how his big muscular thighs were visible through his pants, and the veins in his arms were protruding due to him pulling the gloves on.

"get up, girl, you ain't think you were going to sit there the whole time, did you?" he asked, reaching his hand out for you. you grabbed his hand, stepping down off the golf cart, following shyly behind him. he handed you the club, standing behind you. "hold it here," he instructed.

he was hard and he shamlessly pressed it against your barely clothed ass. you didn't acknowledge it, knowing that it was best to breeze past it. so you let gojo show you where your hands were supposed to be, and you listened. he even helps you get a little power in your swing, the ball flying a solid 10 feet in front of you.

"i did it!" you giggled, turning to look at gojo who blinked in disbelief. and when he saw the seriousness on your face it took everything in him to hold back a laugh. "what? if i didn't do good, show me how it's done."

"alright," he said, grabbing the club from you, walking the short 10 feet to grab the ball. you stood back watching his big swing and the ball fly across the course. your jaw was practically on the floor in shock that he was so good at it. "that's how it's done."

"no fair toru... you're good at like everything," you whined, and gojo scoffed.

"don't do that, y/n, it takes practice." he pecked your lips, helping you get in the cart so you could go to the ball that was all the way in timbuktu. on the ride there, gojo had the bright idea to play strip golf.

the rules were simple, however, many tries it took for you to get it in the hole, was as many pieces of clothing you had to remove. you weren't confident in your abilities, but you were determined. how hard could it be? every other challenge you did with gojo you won.

well... except this one.

it took gojo all of 4 tries to get the ball in, and it took you 27. which resulted in gojo shaving it down to 6 since you didn't have 27 pieces of clothing. so all gojo had to take off were his socks, pants, and shirt. for you, that was your socks, shirt, skirt, bra, and panties.

"toru i'm butt ass naked," you said as gojo basically got a strip show from you. his eyes never left your body for a second. drooling over you like a virgin who had never laid eyes on a woman's bare body.

"and fine as fuck." was all he said grabbing you by your waist so that you were standing between his legs. he kissed along your neck moving his kisses to your lips. the kiss was heated and urgent, gojo was needy and wasn't afraid to admit. "i need you, so bad."

"wait... baby? right here?" you asked, and he nodded, not questioning it or hesitating. he didn't say much, he just picked you up and placed you down on the backseat of the cart. pushing your legs to your chest, giving you a knowing look, but you didn't obey. "t...toru, hold on a second." you said breathlessly making him deadpan.

"hold em," he said, and you sighed, grabbing the back of your legs, holding them up and open. gojo dropped to his knees, not even caring about his knees digging in the mud. his focus was on sending one teasing swipe of his tongue up your slick folds.

he hummed at the taste of your essence on his tongue. he was so sure he could use your slick as honey for his desert. so sweet he needed a glass of milk to wash it dow-

"toru!" you yelled at him for the third time, knocking him out of his trance. once he came back to reality, he dove into his lunch. his tongue lapped at your juices and teased your poor delicate clit.

sucking and spitting and licking and slurping, it was a mess. he even began to finger your tight cunt with not one not two but three fingers. digging his unnaturally long digits to the deepest parts of your pussy being sure to stimulate that spongey spot inside of you.

moans were spewing out your mouth as your hands ran through his damp hair. pulling at the white locks, your eyes to the back of your head as you delve in the pleasure. you were quickly coming upon your climax, and gojo knew it too. and not because you were violently squeezing down on his fingers. no. but because you were chanting it out as gojo finger fucked you with no mercy.

"cumming i'm... m'cumming toru fuck fuck fuck so close." you babbled and he smirked pulling of you puffy clit with a 'pop!' this was his entertainment watching you squirm as you creamed all over his fingers.

"cream on my fingers so i can clean it up for you," he tells you and you do just that as you cum violently. your eyesight is blurry as you see gojo looking down at you with a shit eating grin. he doesn't say anything as he slips out his fingers licking them clean just as he said he would. "so fuckin' perfect," he mumbled pulling your hips closer to him.

he pulled his boxers down, stepping out of them. his angry red cock slapped his navel leaving a string of sticky precum behind. his hand gripped the base of his cock slapping it against your clit. he chuckled watching your body react to him. he wasted no time using his thumb to push his cock head in line with your entrance.

"fuck." he grumbled from the feeling of your tight entrance trapping his tip. he fought the urge to cum right then and there. he pushed himself the rest of the way into you, bottoming out with nothing on his mind except you.

"s...shit toru you're too deep," you whined and he grunted pulling halfway out and slamming back into you. all the wind was knocked out of you as you gasped for air. followed by a moan that could probably be heard back at the mansion.

"so wet, squeezing down on me so tight," he hummed enjoying the feeling. after waiting for you to finally be ready, his hips snapped into yours. his pace was feral and needy as moans and groans flew from his mouth. his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you sloppily, spit spilling out of your mouths. rolling down your cheek and onto the bare skin of your chest.

that was one of the many things you loved about gojo, he was not afraid to moan. which only encouraged you to moan and whimper louder. it wasn't like you had to try very hard with the way he dug in your guts. so here you were, finally remembering how you got in this position. strip golf, never ever again, you thought to yourself.

while gojo was relentlessy fucking into you, his hips stilled. you were about to protest until he held his finger up to his lips. you quickly closed your mouth as well, hearing someone talking.

"today was supposed to be my day off, but mr. gojo asked me to tend the garden today." the person who you figure was the gardener said. gojo leaned down, covering your body with his.

"same, he asked me to clean the pool." the pool cleaner added. there was a line of trees next to the two of you, and it sounded as if they were behind them.

"my ass is out." gojo whispered in your ear with a light chuckled. you swatted his arm, light telling him to hush, but that only got him started. the motions were small, but you felt the way his hips ground into yours. the way his pelvis stimulated your clit and his dick pulsed in you.

"i guess we better get back to the mansion," another worker said, and you whimpered from the feeling. it didn't seem like they were really planning on going back. but eventually the footsteps got further away and you both loosened up. he quickly picked you up and sat on he seat instead.

"ride me... please?" he practically begged, looking up in your eyes. his bright blue eyes burning a hole into your face above his shades. you nodded shyly, always getting bashful when it was your time to be on top.

you wasted no time riding him slowly, teasing him with your deathly slow pace. his large hands gripped the fatty flesh of your ass holding on for dear life. his head was thrown back, jaw clenched as you squeezed down.

"you're driving me crazy," he grumbled lifting you and fucking up into you like crazy. your hands grabbed his forearm, begging him to slow down. "you gonna stop teasing me now?"

"m'sorry i'll stop i will," you whine and he eased up letting you take control. with your feet planted on the side of him, you began to ride him this time faster. the disgustingly loud 'plap, plap, plap' of your skin slapping was turning you both on. pushing you closer and closer to finishing.

you grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you. the way he licked his lips and bit his lower one to muffle his groans. it just made you desperate to press your lips and steal a kiss from him. but gojo was two steps ahead of you, noticing the way your sight was trained on his lips.

he leaned up, forcing his tongue down your throat. the two of you kissing sloppily swapping spit as your bodies were conjoined. one of his hands left your ass to reach between the two of you. using two fingers to rub your clit sending your body immediately into overdrive.

"close," you mumbled against his lips to which he simply mumbled 'mhm' against your lips. it didn't take much his pulling away from your lips to whisper a gruff 'cum'. even if he hadn't said that you were bound to cum right there and then. "fuckkk...!" you yelled your cream coating his cock and collecting around the base.

"m'right behind you baby shit i'm cumming." he groaned loudly as he shot his warm loud inside you. filling you up completely, not even bothering to pull out. he thrusted up into you a few more times being sure to stuff him cum all the way into your womb.

"you were right toru... the thrill of getting caught makes you cum harder." you huffed and gojo nodded.

"i told you years ago." gojo smirked, kissing your forehead, leaning back as you climbed off his lap. "you'll clean me off, won't you?" he asked, giving you those sickeningly effective puppy eyes. you didn't verbally comply, but he knew when you got on your knees, assuming the position. just like gojo earlier, not caring if mud would get on your knees.

"are we sick?" the poolboy asked the gardener who shook her head his fingers stuffed in her mouth. "fucking to our boss's son and his girlfriends moans."

sidenote: 

gojo’s hair was damp from thinking he was in high school musical 2, playing with the water and sprinklers, trying to make you laugh. 

[hoonstqr]

DUMB PUPPY | S.JY

warnings ; smut! mdni! hair pulling, virgin jake, step-cest, experienced reader, oral(f! & m!), the tiniest age-gap(3 years), usage of petnames such as noona, baby, praise kink. 𝔳𝖺𝗆𝔭𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝔟𝗂𝗍𝖾𝔰 : i have an insane corruption kink for him and its so fucking bad ughh. this was also previously named as purple lace bra(if u've seen the post i made about it). reblog to support :)

-----

the first thought that came to your mind when you first met your new younger step brother was to ruin him.

the way he blushes when you catch him off guard, the way his eyes widen when you enter the room, the way he calls you ‘noona’ with just the right mix of shyness and respect. it makes you want to own him, to corrupt him, to turn him into your little pet, your pup.

you decide to start with the basics, making him watch as you touch yourself in front of him, his cheeks burning red as he tries to look away. “baby,"” you coo, “don't you want to see what makes noona feel good?” you purr, stroking your finger along his jaw until he reluctantly nods.

his eyes are glued to your hand as you play with your panties, the fabric growing damp from your arousal. your heart races as you watch his pupils dilate, his breathing becoming shallow. “you like this, don’t you?” you tease, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

his nod is almost imperceptible, but the way his body tenses up tells you everything you need to know. you smirk, feeling a thrill of power as you push his boundaries further. you pull his face closer to your wetness, making him inhale your musky scent. “you can lick it, if you want,” you murmur, your voice dripping with desire.

his eyes dart to yours, full of confusion and need. he’s never done anything like this before, you can see it in the way he fidgets. but you don’t care. you want to break him in, to make him crave you, only you. “please, noona,” he whispers. you can feel his cock pressing against your thigh.

you push his head down, gripping his hair firmly. “yes, baby,” you say, “do it. make noona feel good.” you feel his hot breath on your pussy, and your grip tightens as you force his face into your wetness. his tongue tentatively touches you, and you let out a soft gasp. he’s so new to this, so clumsy, but it’s endearing.

his movements become more urgent as you guide him, showing him how to lick and suck. you can feel yourself getting wetter, his inexperience only adding to the thrill. “good boy,” you praise him, stroking his hair as he obeys your every command. your other hand slides down to cup his chin, pushing it harder against your clit.

you moan, the sound echoing through the room as your body starts to quiver. your eyes are half-closed, lost in the pleasure of his tentative touches. “fuck, baby,” you breathe, “you're going to make noona cum.” his tongue flicks against you faster, and your hips begin to rock against his face.

his hands grip your thighs tightly, urging you closer, and you can feel his own arousal straining against his pants. your nails dig into his scalp as you guide him, the sensation of his hair between your fingers adding to the intensity.

his breath is hot and ragged against your skin, his cheeks red with both embarrassment and excitement. the room fills with the sound of his eager slurps and your moans of pleasure. “fuck, yes,” you pant, feeling yourself get closer and closer to the edge.

you look down at him, his eyes watering slightly from your grip but never leaving your own. “right there,” you instruct, “keep going, baby.” your voice is hoarse with lust as you push his head even closer, grinding your pussy against his mouth.

his tongue swirls around your clit, and you can’t help but tighten your hold on his hair, pulling slightly as you feel your orgasm building. “shit, i'm coming,” his eyes widen in surprise when you come, your juices spilling over his lips and chin.

his breathing is erratic, matching the pulsing of your pussy against his mouth. you let go of his hair, and he pulls back, his eyes glazed with lust. “good boy,” you murmur, stroking his cheek. “now, it's your turn.”

you reach for his pants, unbuttoning them with ease and pulling out his hard shaft. “so big,” you whisper, stroking it gently. “do you want noona to suck on it?” he nods, his breath hitching in his throat.

you lean in and lick the precum off the tip of his cock, savoring the salty taste. “you taste so good, baby,” you moan, taking him fully into your mouth. his hands find their way into your hair, gripping tight as you bob your head up and down.

his hips jerk slightly, and you feel his cock throb with each stroke of your tongue. “noona,” he whimpers, his voice filled with need. you look up, meeting his eyes, and then down again, taking him deeper, feeling the heat of his desire in every pulse against your tongue.

his grip on your hair tightens, and you can feel his body tense up. “are you going to cum for noona?” you ask, your voice low and sultry. he nods, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches you take control. you suck harder, your cheeks hollowing out, your hand playing with his balls, feeling them tighten.

his breathing is harsh, and you know he's close. you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, feeling him pulse in your mouth. “y-yeah,” he whispers, his voice breaking. you suck harder, feeling his orgasm building, the taste of him on your tongue making you wetter.

his hips buck, and he comes with a strangled groan, filling your mouth with his hot cum. you swallow it down, savoring the moment, feeling powerful as he trembles beneath you. his hands loosen their grip on your hair, and he collapses back onto the bed, panting heavily.

you give his cock one last gentle suck before releasing it with a wet pop, his cum glistening on your lips. “see baby,” you say with a wicked smile, “that wasn’t so bad, was it?” his face is flushed, a mix of embarrassment and satisfaction.

“next time, we’ll do something even more fun.”

[leviathanxprincess]

Introducing Homicipher Characters to Your Plushies - Pt. 1

The Homicipher Characters come to you in hopes for whatever insanity they plan to drag you into, you instead have a different plan! Showing them your plushies!

Based off my series for the whb devils ! Consider this is scenario where you brought them back to your world with you and they understand your language fully now and vice versa !

Notes: Some very light suggestive content. Gender neutral reader ! This round of characters includes: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Chopped. Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood, & Mr. Machete !

Mr. Crawling

Honestly you could do anything and it would just make him love you more.

But especially in this case!

He will sit and listen intently to every last thing you have to say about your plushies!

And he's memorized all of their names for you!! He knows which ones are your favorites and which ones you find the most comforting when you're upset.

He thinks you're so cute when you talk about them too!

He gives you and your plushies pets as you talk about them!!

Squishes your cheeks, you're the most adorable person to him and he's glad you shared with him such an important part of your life.

Will go out and find even more plushies for you. He would do anything for you after all!

Mr. Scarletella

If I'm being honest you could honestly talk about anything and he would just listen.

It wouldn't matter the topic. You wanna talk about your plushies? Then yeah of course he's gonna listen and eat up every detail.

He loves seeing your smile, and admittedly he does get a bit of cuteness aggression from it so prepare yourself for that lol.

However.... He does get kind of jealous of them too.

What do you mean he's not the only being you've given names to? Not to mention the amount of attention and affection you give to them.

Yes, these aren't living creatures and he knows this but he can't help himself!

He gets irritated about it, if you notice his jealousy right away and stop and give him attention then he'll get over it quick.

If it takes you longer to notice however. Things might end up requiring a much more bigger solution than just a few kisses and cuddles.

Mr. Chopped

They're very cute!! He likes your plushies and how excited and cute you get when you talk about them!!

But... They're not as cute as him, right?

Expect to be showing him an equal amount of attention as you are your plushies as your introducing him to them.

He just gets so grumpy and jealous way too easily.

He very much requires you to gush about him just as much as you gush about these inanimate objects.

And as long as you do so he is pleased and content and can live in harmony with your plushies.

He takes note of the names and while he might not remember every last detail, he does like talking to you about them!!

He knows it's an easy way to make you happy and he very much likes making you happy!!

However you'll never know that sometimes when you're not looking, he's glaring at them.

Mr. Silvair

While I don't think he really cares that much about the plushies, he is interested in humans. And you.

So he'll listen. It gives him a bit of insight to how not human minds work, but specifically yours.

This odd cute stuffed creatures bring you immense joy, he's not sure why, but he knows it does and he would like to know why.

Honestly it doesn't really matter what you do, everything to him provides him with more research.

That being said, it's not like it ends up being solely about his research.

He does end up finding himself being oddly endeared by your behavior and how happy you when talking about your plushies.

He's taking to placing them on your whenever you're upset or need comfort. Especially since he knows it works.

He can soft and sweet sometimes. At least when it comes to his favorite human, of course.

Mr. Gap

The idea came to you when you saw him peeking out of a dark gap that was in your plushie pile!

He came to ask one of his typical questions, but you didn't let him get a word in!

You immediately just picked up one of your plushies and started talking about them!

He doesn't really quite find anything interesting about the plushies, but he is interested in you so!

He will listen to what you have to say. And he does know some of your plushies by name after you tell him about them.

Will occasionally show up with plushies he's found that he thinks you will like.

Of course you need to give him your heart to have them though!

You won't?

Well... he guesses he can settle for a kiss or something instead....

Mr. Hood

He doesn't quite fully understand your deep attachment to these objects, but he'll support your love for them fully.

We already know he's a good teacher, but he's also one of the best listeners as well.

He will sit for however long it takes for you to share with him all of your plushies and their names and even lore if you have that for them as well.

He does find it rather endearing, even if he's not quite sure why he enjoys you talking about something for so long.

Will pat your head occasionally, if only he had a head that you could see because if he did he would have the softest smile on it as he watches you talk.

Truly experiencing you share this with him just puts an even deeper desire in him to protect you from any and all harm.

He will make sure and be guaranteed to protect that bright, beaming smile on your face that you have in this moment. At any cost.

Mr. Machete

He does not give a shit.

Or at least that's what he says.

And well, to be fair, he is annoyed by your focus on these cute nonthreatening soft things instead of just sparing with him or something.

Don't ask him if he's jealous of your plushies, he'll deny it to ends of the earth.

Ignore that he's been acting grumpy since.

Just give him a little extra attention and he'll be fine.

Also seems like the kind to get cuteness aggression. But his cuteness aggression just leads to him wanting to fight you. And bite you. Maybe some scratching too. Basically he's not gonna be nice about it and just give you squeezing hugs or something lol

[tan1shere]

Bite It Lick it Spit It

Billie Eilish x female reader

A/n: I don't think I need to say anything here lovelies, enjoy !!

Summary: Billie is excited to show you this new song shes featured in, reciting her lyrics to you. Until she's recreating them on you.

Warnings: smut, mdni ! Spit ?? Eating out, strap usage, orgasm denial, squirting !! Think that's it <3

Masterlist ... extra ;)

"Babyyy."

You hear your girlfriend say, coming into the bedroom you both shared. She had her phone in hand, obviously about to show you something.

"Everything alright?" You ask setting your book down. It was currently 7 pm, she had been in the small studio downstairs. Working away on something. "More than alright. I want to show you what I have so far on this remix I'm doing." You smile at her as she sits beside you on the bed, excited to hear this. You always loved listening to the songs she'd make or was in. And you were so incredibly proud that this was going to be with another big star.

'Don’t have to guess the color of your underwear

Already know what you’ve got goin’ on down there'

She chants and you smile just enjoying listening to the lyrics.

'It’s that lacy black pair with the little bows'

That reminds you of a pair you own.

Wait...

'The ones I picked out for you in Tokyo'

Now she has your full attention. Sure you were listening to the lyrics beforehand, but now you're really listening. Her eyes were still on her phone, reading off the lyrics. Until her eyes met yours.

'I saw them when you sat down, they were peekin’ out'

Did she really write this about you? You had a pair of underwear exactly like the one she's talking about, you wore them alot actually. They were your favorite. Especially when she mentioned Tokyo. That was incredibly specific as that's where the pair was from. She had bought them for you as a gift when you traveled there for your birthday last year. Both yours and Billies eyes lock onto one another's. But she didn't stop there, keeping that eye contact alive.

'I'm gonna tell you right now, they're all I'm thinkin' about'

"True." She then whispers. Your brows furrow, feeling nervous at the insanity of this moment. Her eyes bore into your own, making you shift a little bit. Your eyes avert her lustful ones.

'I wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it. Pull it to the side and get all up in it'

You hadn't even realized she sat her phone down on her bedside table, and was inching closer to your body. "You wanna guess who that song is about." She speaks softly into your ear. You gulp, her voice delicate. Holding such filth at the same time. You don't answer for a second, trying to gain your composure. "Me....?" You question. She only smirks and let's out a small hum. Her body moves to hover over your own, instantly leaning down to kiss you. "I saw a photo of you on my phone from a year ago today. And that's what inspired me." She mumbles against the skin of your neck, as her kisses move all over the place. "Your crossed legs, in that skirt." You swallow thickly. Remembering that photo. You had your arms up in the air, sitting on a random beautiful fountain.

"That's why I mentioned how the straps were peaking out.. those baby pink bows." She bites down on your neck, making a gasp escape your lips. Your eyes shut in instinct as she continues on. "'Kiss it, bite it, can I fit it?'" The only thing you manage to get out was. "Fuck me."

She glady took that offer. Making her way down your body, getting to her destination. She pulls the pair to the side. "Wish it was the black ones." She trails off, slowly revealing your wet, sticky folds to her. Her eyes becoming drowsy, full of desire for you. She bit her lips slightly, grabbing the underwear by the top. And pulling them down, off your body, discarding them somewhere. Her favorite thing, on display for her. She had to admire for a little bit. But that just made you grow impatient. "Billie-" "shhh." She says, as her finger comes close to your puffy heat. She then quickly licks a small stripe up the middle, before she pulls back contemplating.

She spits directly onto your cunt, letting it slide down slightly. The big bit of saliva staying there for a second, before her face is directly infront of it. Her tongue sticks out and straight into your weeping, aching hole. Pushing the spit inside you. She pulls back to look at the mixture of wetness. And she did both. She managed to get you that wet. It was her spit now deep inside you. God she was proud at the thought. However she wasn't even done with penetrating your pussy. Her face is back in its original spot. Her lips make contact with your own, sending your head back into the pillows. Your hands eventually move to her silky hair, gripping as she speeds up her pace, her tongue entering you also.

It all felt amazing, when she does something unexpected. Her teeth sink into the lip of your pussy, biting and sucking all at once. It felt incredible. Why hadn't she done that sooner. "Bil.." You breathe, moaning on and off. "Feels so, good." You blab, still having your eyes shut. Feeling her lips move into her famous smirk, knowing that boosted her ego entirely. Your high was approaching and fast.

"Nooo." You then huff. Feeling her tongue move from you. Looking down at your fucked out body. Her smirk is ofcourse still visible at your little frustrated pout. "You're so annoying." You breathe, sinking into the sheets again.

"You won't be saying that in a second." Your head shot up again to look at her, but as soon as you do that a loud moan is being ripped out of you. How the hell did this woman put her strap on so quickly. She really wasn't kidding when she said 'in a second.' Impressive. A little hot in a way. Your mind turns into mush though, almost her whole length inside of you. "Had to get you worked open babe, yet you're still so tight." Another moan was to be heard, letting your eyes flutter close again, back instantly arching. Only thing visible in your brain are the lyrics to that song, and how she's recreating them all. "Guess I can fit it huh?" She then says, coming close to your face. "Speak." She orders you like a dog, when you don't respond.

"Y-yes.. feel so full." Her smirk returns to her face, picking up the speed. "Good. Just how it should." You let out another gasp again, feeling her thumb playing with your clit. This makes her chuckle, maliciously. She continues to fuck you relentlessly, beginning to let her hands roam over your skin, she pushes the baggy t-shirt you were wearing up, exposing your tits. They move in time with her thrusts. Her mind overflows with every disgusting but amazing fantasy. Your breath hitches as you feel cool metal on your breasts, looking to see her hands kneading them. How well they fit in her hands as she squished.

As her fingers move while doing so, you feel that same cold metal on your nipple making a shakey, content sigh leave you. It eventually turning into a moan as she squeezes again. She comes down to your face, your eyes were closed. "Look at me." She speaks, grabbing your jaw. You immediately open your eyes looking at her dark ones, which was always such a shock as they are so bright. Her face inches down towards your ear, she gives it a soft kiss before she's whispering. "Wanna make you squirt." Your eyes widen tremendously. If you weren't flustered before you really are now.

As you go to respond it was cut short, her thumb resumed on your clit, her thrusts are deeper, her ring covered fingers gripping your jaw. Her lips on your neck only adding to that, as she used the fuck out of you. You feel it coming, that tight knot. But you didn't have to say a word. She knew. She could feel it. It getting slightly harder for her at the way you're tightening, but that was a challenge she wanted to conquer. Obviously succeeding, she hits that gummy spot inside you, sending your mouth to fly open. "B-bil-" Yet another gasp was being pulled from you, it being loud in her ear as she continues to fuck the shit out of you.

Her pace never falters. Her thumb even speeding up as she sucks and bites your neck. You wanted to tell her you were close, as if she didn't already know. Your hands make their way to her arms, gripping as it's coming faster. "Fuck!" You screech out, you couldn't hold it any longer releasing within an instant, feeling her smirk into your neck. "And boom." She says into your ear, her voice husky. You hadn't even noticed it, but she actually did make you squirt. Your fucked out expression gives billie all she needs to know.

"Guess I'm just, that. good."

[sanemisstalker]

NSFW /// KNY characters who I think cum particularly hard/ a lot. This could have a part two, I'm eepy, srry.

CW/ Non specific gendered/genitalia reader / Cum... like an insane amount of cum / BDSM Dynamic (ENMU)/ Light Gore (ENMU)/ tbh, Enmu. / Cum-swapping (AKAZA)

Sanemi Shinazugawa

-Cums hards AND a lot.

-Sanemi isn't quite sure why is body is the way it is, maybe it's his breath control mixed with the insane amount of testosterone and panic pumping through his veins on the daily, but Sanemi doesn't struggle to get it up.

-he struggles to stay flaccid. He's far more likely to be hard at any given moment. Not that he's excited, his dick is just permanently stuck at half mast. It takes an insane, highly emotional amount to get him entirely flaccid.

-I think Sanemi's orgasm absolutely shreds him everytime, unanimously. Does that stop him from getting it up in another ten minutes? Absolutely not. I just truly think he's a medical anomaly.

-He cums prematurely, but what does it matter? It literally didn't go down, he's still fucking going, now he's just like, in tears about it.

-I think Sanemi's eyes get really wide and he gets lock jaw, and he seethes and he tries to hold back any noise, but it just shreds the poor guys throat, and now he's sore, and it hurts him to moan, but he just can't help it, you feel so fucking good- and all for him? It's all for him?

-Shakes. Sobs. Sounds incredibly desperate, don't let the facade fool you. If he loves you, he's a crier.

-Also physically cums a lot. Not just by how many orgasms, but by how much each time is. I think he's got an obnoxiously low set of balls. He's made to breed, the poor bastard. If he can't let go in you, both of you are covered in it by the end of the night.

-Sanemi has yet to tap out before you.

Kyōjurō Rengoku

-Cums a lot.

-Rengoku has good stamina, but once he cums, he's done for, no more. He can keep going if he really wants to, or if you look like you really need him, but chances are the first round wad more than enough.

-vocal, but in a fatherly way. Sex with Rengoku is probably very... comfortable.

-Until he cums and now you're sticky from your chest to your upper thigh. The range of his shot is insane. He cums buckets, and he barely blinks. His breathing gets a little ragged, and his chest a little shakey, but that's it.

-He needs to go night night after, though. Feeling any amount of joy that doesn't come from stuffing his face does a number on him emotionally and physically. He needs a cuddle and a conversation about... idk, taxes after.

-Won't beg to cum in you, but really, really wants to.

-He always pulls out like a gentleman (if you can be much of a gentleman when you're balls deep), but you can always tell that he wants to see your face so bad when he pumps you full.

-Will not ask. That'd be rude.

-Talks you through your orgasm, but that's another post for another day.

Enmu

-Fuck, I just know he's a screamer. He cums so hard.

-This guy's a fucking mess, but it takes work.

-Enmu is such a good submissive that you're always shocked when he decides to mouth off to you, or when he forgets a command. Not too shocked, though. It's very clearly intentional. It always is.

-He gives himself a bit in between each 'screw up' to make sure he's edged himself mentally properly (very hard, he's almost always some kind of aroused, and he's prone to cumming untouched, so that build up is a little diificult.)

-While he doesn't struggle to ask for things, and his dignity is subzero, Enmu still appreciates a stray chase here and there. After all, it's the only thing mentally stimulating enough for him to cum.

-In any normal dynamic with Enmu, he isn't often left using his dick. So when you've got a spear through his wrists, locking them behind his back, one hand pulling his hair, the other jerking his cock with thoughtless speed-

-Enmu can never cum harder than when he's recieving borderline abuse. His dick looks irritated, going untouched for months previous, and now it's receiving all this attention. Can you blame him for being this loud?

-His legs shake, his whole body recoils. He drools and screams- laughs and wails. He cries with the brightest smile you've ever seen. His hips buck up. You're not being gentle, and he's so, so happy. The orgasm is ripping through every nerve in his body.

-He feels like he's in the sun again.

-He's hoping Muzan can see him look so pathetic. You're just hoping the demon lord stays out of your man's head.

Akaza

-cums like a horse.

-a lover, truly. That's the only word encompassing enough to describe Akaza's efforts sexually. He's a fantastic lover.

-... who can go for hours... days even and never get tired. Every orgasm blows off his shoulders- It's all about you. It always has been, it always will be.

-You've made him cum hard before, it's a rarity, but it's possible... Its just nothing feels as good to him as watching you cum, so he'll do whatever must be done-

-and if that means pumping you full again and again, until you're leaking from every accessible orifice, so be it.

-He'll lick your hole clean, reveling in the way you twitch after your.... you lost count after the fifth one. That won't stop him from tongue fucking you.

-His cum tastes... shockingly good. You like to give him head, and then come up to give him a kiss. He'll pull your tongue down, wanting to see it in your mouth just before you swallow. You always look so proud of yourself. He can't help but reward you with a kiss before you even get it down.

-there's way to much for one swallow. You can barely manage to keep all of it in your mouth while showing him. Your effort is precious, though.

-Akaza looks really good with cum on his lips. It's one of the only times you see him really flustered.