#I'm not even tagging this properly I'm way too tired

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[thecherrygod]

/

[damiemontclair]

Need to stop looking at work instagram before bed. Work instagram always makes me so annoyed bc I don't agree with the way some of the other people posting to the acc do things...

[djarincore]

i picture you when you are all alone

TAGS: smut, just a man thinkin' about his lovely girlfriend, unedited I'm tired, minors I'm begging you DNI, WC: 595

A/N: thank you to sleep token for fueling me. I think about this line and song too much <333

PART 2

To say Simon thought about you often when he was away would be an understatement—he thought of you always. 

He thought of the sweet, sweet girl—his girl—who was waiting for him to come home. Who would take him in with open arms. The girl who loved him so deeply, despite how fucked up and flawed he was. 

And when he closed his eyes at night—in a tiny bunk, bruised and battered, thousands of miles away from home—he thought of you, bare and splayed out on your shared bed. So perfect and all his. 

You'd be needy, desperate. It's been too many nights alone, without his cock filling you properly. Your fingers would dance over the hem of your panties, thighs rubbing together as you debated on whether or not to touch yourself. It wouldn't be the same, of course. Nothing would satisfy you the way Simon could. 

You'd pull your lower lip between your teeth and glance to his side of the bed. It's cold and empty; his scent still lingers on the pillow. You'd take the pillow in your arms and inhale deeply, gripping the cool fabric, pretending it was his shirt. You'd pretend the soft cushion was hard muscle beneath your fingertips. 

One hand would slip into your panties. When your finger brushes against your clit, you whimper. It really was too long since you last felt him. You miss his calloused hands, roughly tracing your figure. 

If he were there, he'd start at your neck, smirking at the way you swallow when his thumb traces your throat. Then, he'd path his way down your breast, playing with your nipples until you were whining for something more. He'd move on soon, following the curves of your body, until finally ending on your cunt. 

Your fingers would work pathetically, trying to replicate his movements, but even they aren't enough. You would try slipping one finger into your dripping pussy, then two, pushing your fingers slowly and working towards a climax. 

Two of your fingers don't work, though. They're not as thick or long as his. They don't reach in you the same way. Your fingers can't press that spongy spot inside you that makes your toes curl and back arch. 

Your fingers grip his pillow in frustration and your legs spread wider. Another, you think. And a third finger forces its way into your tight cunt. Still, nowhere near what he could do for you. 

You'd stay like that—riding your own fingers, wishing it were him—until you met the crest of your pleasure. Your mouth would drop open as your breath picked up. Your cunt would pulse around your fingers, greedily trying to suck them back in. And you'd come with his name on your lips. 

He thought of you in bed, panting. The rise and fall of your chest. Your fingers, covered in your release, slip from your panties. 

He let out a breath. God, he wanted to taste you. He wished it was him in that bed with you—his fingers, his cock, all bringing you over the edge over and over again. 

When his burner phone began to ring in his pocket, a knowing smirk crossed his face. When he dug the phone out and answered, without having to look at the caller ID, it was you on the other end. 

“Simon?” Your voice was quiet, almost breathless. It was early where you were. 

“Yes, love?”

He could hear you shift and wet your lips. “I had a dream about you…”

“Really?” He chuckled, “Because I was just thinkin’ about you too.”

[mayukisu]

ALHAITHAM X FEM!READER

tags: cockwarming, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (he lets kaveh watch), friends with benefits, modern au, overstimulation

He was trying to silence his own groans as he tried to keep you in place, an arm wrapping around your waist as the two of you were reading something on the couch. You came over, to his request, and it just so happened that his roommate Kaveh wasn't around. He had been frustrated for a couple of days and it didn't help that the two of you were too busy to meet up. Perhaps the time that Kaveh wasn't around was a blessing— he could finally take you.

To clear things up, you weren't actually in a relationship. You were just good friends, but when you were both sexually frustrated, you turn to each other. You go to him when you needed to be satisfied sexually, and he does the same to you. In short, you were friends with benefits. It had been like that for the past year, and you never had any complaints because nothing seemed to be the problem so far. In fact, everything seemed to go well that you could not take your hands off of each other.

With each time you spent intimately with each other, you were shown a whole new part of him. One night you'll discover that he's into choking, and then the other you'll find out that he was really into cockwarming. Not that you didn't like it, it just surprised you at first. When you found out that he was into cockwarming, you couldn't sleep properly for a few nights as you imagined yourselves in such a situation. It just so happened that today, you were both frustrated and needed each other's touch. Hence your current situation.

Alhaitham was reading a book, trying to spend his time more productively, while you were sitting on his lap, your hole swallowing up his every inch. Even though he needed you so bad, he still had a few books he wanted and needed to read. What better way to be satisfied and be productive at the same time, than having you take every inch of him as he reads? His thick cock was stretching you out, yet it felt too good, but you wanted some movement. You were getting aroused with all of his length shoved deep inside you. You wanted him to move his hips so that he'll reach deeper parts of you, but he had been very strict about not moving.

"Not an inch, baby," he said, whispering to your ear as he felt you trying to roll your hips for more friction. His grip on your waist tightened, and you felt his length grow bigger as it spread your walls more. "Fuck."

"But I want you to move," you replied, a slight whine evident in your voice. "Please put your book down and fuck me."

The moment he heard you plead to be fucked, he set his book down with a sigh and his hands gripped your waist tightly. You bit your lip, not wanting to admit that being handled like that was turning you on even more. When he guided your hips to grind on him as he thrusted up to you, you let out a few moans and whines as you felt his tip fuck deeper into your hole.

He was groaning, his tip hitting your cervix, but he immediately stopped the moment you two heard the door open— in came Kaveh, dark bags under his eyes as he dragged himself inside. His tired expression was replaced with flushed cheeks, something that both you and Alhaitham noticed. Another set of eyes that weren't Alhaitham's made you feel too exposed and embarrassed, as your needy hole wrapped nicely around his pulsating cock.

"I-I'm sorry," Kaveh stuttered, but his eyes were focused on where the two of you were connected.

With a sigh, Alhaitham slung his arms behind your knees and lifted them up, exposing you further to Kaveh's interested eyes. Lips parting, you tried to hold back your moans at the new angle, but Alhaitham's kisses which trailed from your neck to your shoulders did not help.

"Haitham," you moaned out, "Kaveh's watching."

"Let him. I'm sure he's enjoying it, anyway," said the male, as he started moving his hips again and fucking into you.

As he dragged his thick cock around your walls, he let out a few groans and pants, his pace quickening as you whimpered and begged for more. Kaveh sat down on one of the seats, now shamelessly focusing on watching Haitham fuck you.

"More, more, please," you cried out, as his pace became uneven, his cock twitching inside you. "I'm so close."

Your walls tightened around him, as you arched your back, while Alhaitham thrusted deeply into your leaking hole. Your juice coated him nicely, and as he continued to slide his length in and out, you felt warmth coat your walls.

Alhaitham then placed your legs down, before he picked you up to lift you off his cock. The sound of his cock sliding out of your hole aroused you, wanting to bounce on that cock some more. Some of his cum dripped down your thigh, and you were about to look at him to ask for more, but he was already wearing his pants back on. You let out a disappointed sigh, pouting as you looked at him as if wanting more.

"You like being watched, don't you?" Haitham asked, and the blush on your cheeks deepened. "You want me to fuck you more in front of Kaveh? Too bad, you're not getting it. He's getting aroused himself watching that cunt that's only mine."

[yeetus-feetus]

Duke is a much smaller Duke one day, he's lost all his memories beyond the young age he is now and he's scared and confused.

He doesn't know where is. But then there's Tim, his Robin! And suddenly everything is ok.

The bats have no idea what's going on, but Duke refuses to go to anyone but Tim. He's also a little ball of energy bouncing off all the walls, and Tim is SO tired. "Robin- Tim, come play tag with me!"

One night Tim ends up passing out at his desk, a sleeping Duke cuddling into him on his lap.

Except when Duke wakes up Tim is small too.

And he doesn't remember who Duke is!!

So Duke reintroduces himself and Tim let's himself be dragged downstairs to the actually Batcave!

Bruce is looking at them in absolute astonishment, they're so small!!

Damian laughs at Tim's smallness and Tim gives a cold glare. Maybe age can't change some things.

"where are Nightwing and the new Robin?" Tim asks.

"I'm Robin."

"no, I meant Jason!" Tim huffs and crosses his arms. Ah, he's so young he still believes Jay is Robin.

Duke is still clinging to him, but Tim can't bring himself to mind all too much.

Bruce doesn't know how to handle these boys, between a hyperactive Duke and an absolute menace Tim.

Dick tries to help, but even he can't keep up with the mischief and shenanigans they get up to together.

"dick pick us up!"

"yeah! Pick us up pick us up! And swing us around until we get dizzy!"

"again!"

"again!"

It's time to bring out the big guns, and by that they mean calling Jason over to the manor.

Tim settles immediately, but Duke remains overly weary around the large man with guns strapped to his thighs. He's kinda scary.

But Tim likes Jason well enough. At some point he ends up cuddled up with Jason who's stretched out on the couch, and Duke is just a little bit jealous.

"hey stop hogging him! Tim is mine," Duke pouts.

Jason raises an eyebrow at the boy, and Tim tilts his head. "You know there's enough room for both of us up here, right? Jason is a lot bigger than he used to be."

Duke considers this. "Mm okay, but only because you're up there". And he climbs up into Jason's lap to cuddle into Tim's side.

It's calm for a moment, until Duke starts to fidget, not able to stay still for too long. Jason let's put an annoyed noise and looks at them over the top of his book. "Would you quit it I'm tryna read here".

"what are you reading?" Duke asks.

"Macbeth."

Tim scrunched his nose up. "Why are you reading that?"

"I like it. Reminds me of school", and Tim catches something in his tone that Duke absolutely doesn't.

"it sounds silly. Will you red it to us?"

Jason looks at the both of them for a very long moment before signing. "Sure, but you've gotta stay still, your knees are already in my ribs."

The three of them all end up falling asleep like that, tucked into the lounge and curled up together.

Except when they wake up in the morning, Jason is scrawny little boy, even smaller than Tim and Duke.

Tim explains what he can to the tiny Jason as Duke sneaks some snacks from the kitchen cupboard for them.

Cass catches them stuffing their faces with junk food and squeals. "Three baby brother's now!" And scoops them all up as the quick and try to squirm away.

"gotta tell B"

"wait who are you exactly?" Jason asks.

"big sister", Cass smiles and pets his curls.

"no way! Really? That's so cool, I've never had a big sister before", he exclaims.

Cass carries all three of them down to the Batcave because she's so strong and awesome! And Jason can't believe he ends up with such a cool sister.

"Batman!!!" Jason shouts in pure excitement, and Bruce turns around and almost cries.

Because look how small!! Oh baby Jay lad!! So precious and smol!

"I think the de-aging syndrome may be contagious", Tim speaks up. "You should have us all properly quarantined until you can find a cure."

quarantine is fun, for Jason and Tim at least (tiny Tim is plotting revenge on whoever caused this, Jason is reading and occasionally shouting at the characters). Duke can't stand having to stay still in the same one room for so long.

idk where this is going, but consider this awesome 3am idea of mine

[dandelions-143]

Do It For Me

Final Part

Parts 1 - 3 here : Chans Masterlist

All other members : Masterlist

Pairing: possessive bad boy, non idol Chan x Bratty fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Explicit sexual content, Strong language, Themes of possessiveness and control in relationships, Public sex

Word count: 2,396

A/N: This will be the last installment in Chans story. I wasn’t going to write another one but I felt like I needed a pretty happy entering without making it super fluffy because you all know that’s not my style. Currently working on a playlist for this series so stay tuned! Also if you have already read this just ignore!! Adding all saved tags to all of my works. If you wish to no longer be tagged just let me know.

You sank into Chan's plush leather sofa, your hands resting on your thighs and your bare feet crossed at the ankle. Your eyes narrowed slightly as you gazed across the room. Chan sat just a few feet away, his dark eyes fixed on you like a predator eyeing its prey.

It had been a couple of days since Chan had whisked you away from the bar to his family home. Initially, you resisted his every move. You ignored or scoffed at his gentle touches and sweet gestures of affection. The only thing you welcomed was the rough sex.

Gradually, however, you began to warm up to his tender side—a side that seemingly only you got to witness. You stopped flinching when he pulled you close for an embrace. You started reciprocating his quick, spontaneous kisses.

You no longer mocked his affectionate gestures when he offered to cook for you, give you a foot rub, or simply lay with you to read or watch a movie. Slowly, you began to anticipate these moments, and before you realized it, you were opening up to him in ways you'd never done with anyone before.

"Come on, it's just a date. We've been hooking up on and off for years. Let me take you out," Chan said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he looked at you. You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance, even as the prospect of a proper date with Chan made your pulse quicken. You didn't usually like feeling this way—you'd convinced yourself you weren't built for romance or relationships—but Chan was steadily dismantling the walls you'd built.

After much hesitation, you finally answered, "Fine, I'll go on one date with you, but you have to let me go back to Hyunjin's place to get ready properly. I'm tired of being cooped up in this mansion. I'm not your prisoner, Chan." His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching slightly. You could see the internal struggle playing out across his features. Finally, he exhaled deeply, his shoulders relaxing. "Alright," he conceded, "but I'm picking you up at 8, and if you're not ready or you try to slip away... I'll find you, and you won't leave my sight ever again."

Chan's possessiveness was overwhelming at this point, and it pained you to lack your own independence. Yet, you had no intentions of leaving him—you just didn't want him to know that. You nodded simply and stood up. "I should probably get going then. I need time to get ready." Chan licked his full lips and rose as well. "I'll have a car take you over."

Two hours later, you were gazing into Hyunjin's bathroom mirror, putting the finishing touches on your makeup. Your deep blue dress hugged your curves perfectly, accentuating your figure in all the right places. The neckline plunged just low enough to be alluring without being too revealing. You applied a final swipe of deep red lipstick, the color complementing the dress beautifully. As you stepped back to admire your reflection, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness for your date with Chan.

As soon as those feelings began to rise, you shook your head, pushing them away. "What the fuck... get ahold of yourself, Y/n." Just as you were walking out of Hyunjin's bedroom, his front door opened and in stepped a very tired-looking Hyunjin. "Wow, you actually do come home," you said as his eyes met yours. A soft smile spread over his lips. "I'm only here to grab some things. I'm going back to my other place."

You walked over to him, knowing how sad and lonely your best friend had been feeling since his breakup with his ex. Even though you agreed he had been a very bad boyfriend, you couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. He was close to your heart, and you didn't like seeing him suffer. You embraced him in a gentle hug. "Are you okay?" you asked as you squeezed him a little, then pulled back to peer up at him.

Hyunjin gave you a weak smile, his eyes reflecting a mix of exhaustion and gratitude. "I'm... managing," he replied softly, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the weight of his emotions in those two simple words. Before you could respond, the sound of a car horn outside caught your attention, reminding you of your impending date with Chan.

You nodded, "You know I'm still your best friend and I'm here for you. Even if you just want to complain, I'll listen." Hyunjin was the only one who got to see your softer side. "Yeah, I know, Y/n." Hyunjin glanced out of his big bay windows, seeing Chan emerge from his car and begin walking up the sidewalk. "Are you and Chan finally expressing your love for one another?" he asked, surprised as he finally took in your dressed-up appearance.

You sighed heavily and shrugged, "I'm just indulging him." Hyunjin laughed softly and shook his head at you. "You know... we all see it. You love the guy, and it's clear he's obsessed and in love with you. He has been for years." You started to turn away to grab your small handbag. "Hyunjin..." you began, not wanting to hear this.

"Y/n, take it from me, who took advantage of someone that loved me unconditionally... you don't want to give that up." He looked down, trying to hold back the tears stinging his eyes. "Once you damage that and they give up on you... there's no going back. Nothing's ever the same." There was a soft knock on the door. "Let the guy love you... you deserve that."

You swallowed hard, letting his words sink in as you turned to face the door. Your heart raced, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through you. Hyunjin's words echoed in your mind, challenging your carefully constructed walls. As you reached for the doorknob, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the evening ahead.

When you swung open the door, Chan stood there in all black. His suit fit him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and trim waist. His dark hair was styled neatly, and his eyes sparkled with anticipation as they took in your appearance. A soft smile played on his lips as he extended his hand towards you, his voice low and warm as he said, "You look absolutely stunning, Y/n. Are you ready?" His question seemed to hold more than just the simple meaning.

You took a glance back at Hyunjin, who nodded encouragingly at you. You gave him a soft smile and turned back to Chan. "Yeah, I think I am." You took his hand and walked out of the apartment with him. As you stepped out into the cool evening air, Chan's hand warm in yours, you felt a flutter of nervousness in your chest. The city lights twinkled around you, casting a soft glow on the sidewalk. Chan led you towards his car, a sleek black vehicle that matched his attire perfectly, and you couldn't help but wonder what the night had in store for you both.

The restaurant Chan chose was an elegant Korean establishment with a modern twist. Soft lighting and minimalist decor created an intimate atmosphere, perfect for your first official date. As you and Chan were led to your table, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbled up inside you. The aroma of sizzling bulgogi and freshly steamed rice filled the air, making your mouth water.

You couldn't help but notice the place was completely empty, save for the staff. As you settled into your seat, you glanced at Chan, looking more than handsome in the dim lighting. "What did you do? Rent out the place?" you joked. Chan's lips curved into a mischievous smile, his eyes twinkling. "Maybe I did," he replied, his voice low and playful. A flutter in your chest surprised you at the thought of him going to such lengths for your date. You realized this evening might be more special than you'd initially anticipated.

The waiter arrived with Korean wine and asked if you were ready for your first course. You raised an eyebrow at Chan. "So you've had this all planned out?" Chan simply nodded to the waiter, who disappeared to fetch your meals, leaving your question unanswered.

As you sipped your wine, curiosity and appreciation for Chan's efforts washed over you. The intimate setting and carefully planned menu spoke of a thoughtfulness you weren't quite used to. You found yourself softening, your usual defenses lowering as you gazed at Chan across the table. His dark eyes met yours, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine what it might be like to truly let him in.

Chan leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his dark eyes intense. He took a deep breath before speaking, his voice low and earnest. "Y/n, I know you've been guarding your heart for so long. But I want you to know that I'm here, ready to love you completely. I've been waiting for years, hoping you'd let me in. I'm not asking for everything all at once, but I want you to give us a real chance. Let me show you how much you mean to me, how much I care." You leaned forward, parting your lips to speak, but Chan cut you off, "And please don't turn this into me acting like a pussy because I'm weak for loving you."

You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his words, feeling a mix of amusement and warmth spread through your chest. Chan's vulnerability, his willingness to lay his heart bare before you, was both touching and terrifying. You found yourself at a crossroads, torn between the safety of your carefully constructed walls and the allure of the love Chan was offering. As you gazed into his eyes, you realized that maybe, just maybe, it was time to take a leap of faith.

When you didn't say anything right away, Chan continued, his face hardening slightly as the possessive man you knew pushed through. "And regardless of whether you want to be here or be with me... you're still mine. You always have been. You can't escape me. I don't need you to love me, but... I do need you with me."

A mix of emotions washed over you at Chan's words—a blend of frustration at his possessiveness, but also a strange comfort in his unwavering devotion. You took a deep breath, trying to sort through the conflicting feelings. Part of you wanted to push back against his claim, assert your independence, but another part recognized the truth in his words—there was an undeniable connection between you two that had persisted for years.

You leaned back in your chair as the food arrived. Waiting for the waiter to leave, you began eating before answering Chan. You couldn't help but test his patience. While you enjoyed riling him up, you were also growing fond of his sweet, vulnerable side. "Y/n..." he said under his breath, a warning for you to respond.

You took another bite, savoring the flavors as you considered your words. Finally, you met Chan's intense gaze, your voice soft but firm. "Chan, I can't deny our connection. But love... it's complicated. I'm not promising anything, but I'm here, aren't I? Let's see where this goes."

Your nonchalant response caused Chan's steely glare to falter. He seemed taken aback, having endured years of your rejection. Your words made him question if he'd been wasting his time waiting for and chasing you. Chan's expression softened, a mix of surprise and hope flickering across his features. He reached across the table, his fingers gently brushing yours. "That's all I'm asking for, Y/n," he said softly, his voice filled with genuine emotion. "A chance to show you what we could be."

As the evening progressed, you found yourself relaxing more, genuinely enjoying Chan's company. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by shared laughter and lingering glances. For the first time in years, you allowed yourself to imagine a future where you weren't constantly pushing Chan away. As dessert arrived—a decadent chocolate creation that made your eyes light up—you realized that maybe, just maybe, giving Chan a chance wouldn't be so bad after all.

As the night wore on, you noticed a heat in Chan's eyes as he watched you eat your dessert. "What are you thinking about?" you asked when you caught him staring at your lips as they moved around the spoon. A sly smirk painted his plump lips. "I'm imagining how that red lipstick would look smeared around my cock."

You felt a sudden heat rise to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through your body. Chan's boldness never failed to catch you off guard, even after all this time. You leaned forward, your voice dropping to a husky whisper, "Maybe you'll get to find out later."

Chan shook his head. "There's no later... I want to see it now." Your eyes glanced around the room and then over to the now-quiet kitchen. "You mean here? Where people can see?" Chan's eyes darkened with desire, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "That's exactly what I mean," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "The thrill of getting caught only adds to the excitement, don't you think?"

You licked the remaining chocolate from your lips as Chan motioned for you to come closer. "Come here... I want you on your knees." Even though Chan had been confessing his love, the man knew what he wanted and always took it. You were his, and you would do as you were told... for the most part.

A thrill of excitement coursed through you at Chan's commanding tone. Without hesitation, you rose from your seat, the silk of your dress rustling softly as you moved around the table. Your heart raced as you approached Chan, fully aware of the risk of being caught but unable to resist the magnetic pull between you. As you sank to your knees before him, your eyes locked with his, silently acknowledging the power he held over you in that moment.

You could feel wetness nearly pooling in your panties as his warm hand caressed your cheek and slid over your jaw. His thumb swiped gently across your lips, smearing your deep red lipstick slightly. "So fucking beautiful," he breathed. Chan's eyes darkened with desire as he gazed down at you, his fingers trailing along your jawline. You shivered under his touch, anticipation building within you. Without a word, his hands moved to his belt, the soft clink of metal echoing in the quiet restaurant.

You had watched Chan do this many times, but after allowing him to tear down the walls you'd had up for years, it was as if you were seeing him with new eyes. The heat in the pit of your stomach intensified as you watched him slowly unzip his pants. Anticipation built with each passing second, your breath catching in your throat as you waited for him to reveal himself. You marveled at how different this felt—the same act, but with a new depth of emotion behind it.

Chan spread his thighs wider, the visible bulge in his pants drawing your gaze. You moved closer, your hands sliding up his muscular thighs. "Pull it out," he mumbled. You hesitated, hearing slight movement in the kitchen. "Eyes on me. I'm the only one here with you." He lifted your chin with a finger planted beneath your jaw.

Your eyes rose to meet his glare, filled not only with desire but with a softness you could only discern as love.

Your heart raced as you reached forward, your fingers gently brushing against the fabric of his pants before carefully freeing his hardened length. The sight of him, fully aroused and waiting for you, sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You licked your lips unconsciously, your gaze flickering between his intense eyes and his throbbing cock, ready to pleasure him in this thrilling, semi-public setting.

With a soft exhale, you leaned forward, your lips parting as you took him into your mouth. The taste of him, familiar yet somehow new, filled your senses as you began to move. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring the feeling of him against your tongue, before opening again to meet his intense gaze.

Chan's fingers tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you worked your mouth along his length. The low groan that escaped his lips sent a shiver down your spine, encouraging you to take him deeper. You could feel his thighs tensing beneath your hands, a clear sign of his growing pleasure.

As you continued your ministrations, you could feel Chan's control slipping. His grip on your hair tightened, his hips beginning to buck slightly against your mouth. The thrill of pleasuring him in such a public place only added to your own arousal, your core aching with need. You redoubled your efforts, determined to bring him to the edge of ecstasy.

Chan's breathing grew ragged, his muscles tensing as he approached his climax. You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully. Just as you felt his cock tightening and twitching between your parted lips, he pulled you up. His chest heaved as he glanced down at his cock, covered in your saliva. Your lipstick smeared all around the base of his shaft.

"Not yet," he said gruffly as he stood, bringing you to your feet with him. "I want to feel you wrapped so tight around me."

Chan's hands roamed your body, his touch igniting a fire within you. He spun you around, pressing you against the table as his lips found your neck. You gasped, feeling the hard length of him against your backside, your body trembling with anticipation. The thrill of potentially being caught only heightened your arousal, making you ache for more.

His hands lifted the hem of your dress, exposing your panty-clad ass. He yanked them down, letting them fall to your ankles. Chan gripped your ass in his hands. "You drive me insane," he growled.

You moaned softly as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your behind, your body responding eagerly to his touch. The cool air of the restaurant against your exposed skin sent a shiver down your spine, heightening your arousal. Chan's breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, "I've waited so long for this moment, to have you fully surrender to me."

And you were fully surrendering. In that moment, he could have all of you—your body, your mind, your heart. You realized how much you wanted this, wanted him, wanted his love. Chan spun you around, pulling you over to push you against the wall.

His strong hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him as his lips crashed onto yours in a passionate kiss. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his desire for you evident in every touch. As he pressed you against the wall, his hips grinding against yours, you knew that this moment would change everything between you and Chan forever.

Chan's hands roamed your body, his touch both possessive and tender. You arched into him, your body responding to his every caress. As his lips found yours again, you surrendered completely to the passion between you. "Please... fuck me, Chan," you could barely speak as you tugged at his shirt, pulling it up to slide your hands against his heated skin, feeling the muscles in his back move beneath his smooth skin.

Chan's eyes locked with yours, dark with desire and something deeper—a vulnerability you'd never seen before. Without breaking eye contact, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your core, the thin fabric of your dress the only barrier between you. "I'm going to make you mine," he growled, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine.

With a swift motion, Chan aligned himself with your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his length. You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he slowly pushed inside, stretching and filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that made you cry out softly. Chan stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, "You feel so perfect, so tight around me."

As he began to move, you clung to him, your bodies moving in perfect synchronization. The risk of being caught only heightened your pleasure, every thrust sending waves of ecstasy through your body. You bit your lip to stifle your moans, your nails digging into Chan's back as he drove deeper, his pace increasing with each passing moment.

The combination of pleasure and the thrill of potentially being caught was intoxicating. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the heat between you building to an unbearable intensity. You could feel yourself approaching the edge, your muscles tensing as Chan's thrusts became more urgent, driving you both towards an explosive climax.

As the tension built to a fever pitch, you felt yourself teetering on the brink of ecstasy. Chan's movements became more frantic, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove into you with renewed vigor. The world around you faded away, leaving only the sensation of your bodies intertwined and the impending release that threatened to consume you both.

Just as you were about to cum, you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his head up away from your neck. You wanted to watch him cum inside you, to see just how good you made him feel. Chan's eyes locked with yours, his pupils dilated with desire as he neared his climax. You watched in awe as his face contorted with pleasure, his mouth falling open in a silent moan. The intensity of his gaze, filled with raw passion and vulnerability, pushed you over the edge, and you felt your own orgasm crash over you in waves of ecstasy.

Chan held you close as you both came down from your shared high, your bodies still trembling with aftershocks. As your breathing steadied, he gently lowered you to your feet, his hands caressing your sides tenderly. You looked up at him, seeing a mix of satisfaction and adoration in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat.

"You don't have to say it back, but I love you." His Australian accent was even thicker as he came down from his high. You felt your heart racing, the words echoing in your mind. The intensity of the moment, the vulnerability in Chan's eyes, and the raw emotion in his voice overwhelmed you. Before you could second-guess yourself, you heard your own voice, barely above a whisper, "I love you too, Chan." The words felt right, natural, as if they had been waiting to be spoken all along.

Just as Chan's mouth fell open slightly at the words you had always refused to say to anyone, a crash of dishes came from behind him. You both looked over to see the waiter standing there with wide eyes and a mess of broken dishes on the floor.

Chan's face flushed a deep red, a mix of embarrassment and lingering desire evident in his expression. You couldn't help but stifle a giggle, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once. With a sheepish grin, Chan quickly adjusted his clothing and turned to address the stunned waiter, his voice a mix of authority and amusement as he said, "I believe we're ready for the check now."

Taglist:

@cashtonsbetch @katsukis1wife @hyunjinhoexxx @ihrtlino @breezy-simp @vixensss @yaorzu-blog @tirena1 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @chuuyaobsessed @doohnut @babigriin @iovecb97 @kpflyn @rylea08 @sheerfreesia007 @tsunderelino @cookiesandcreammy @rockstarkkami @moonchild9350 @syedazarintasnim @myflowercloud @143hyunes @luvyblossom @shecheatedwithme @antisocialties @akaligogrrr @thisaintredwine @rose-w-00-d @jisuperboard @velvetmoonlight @kayleefriedchicken @skzfelixlove

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 2 - CHANGBIN

Title: These hands were made for you

PAIRING: Changbin x reader

SUMMARY: Changbin agrees for you to give him a massage to relieve some of his back pain, but isn’t prepared for the physical reaction he has to your touch. For context, the reader is part of the management team!

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever. 

TAGS: hands-free orgasm, massages, swearing, hint of body worshipping if you squint.

KINK: erotic massage

KINKTOBER - MASTERLIST

Thinking Changbin was awake happened to be a mistaken thought, especially after you had been standing at the door of his hotel room for the past few minutes, knocking at it. Even calling and texting him didn’t help. In saying that, it was late and you had to give him the benefit of the doubt; he had played a show not too long ago, had been complaining of muscle pain, and was most likely really tired. 

But so were you.

Having waited over an hour at the airport trying to track some of Changbin’s lost luggage during their performance. A while after that, both of his items had been located and it was your task to return them to him. 

For a few spare seconds, you thought it would be wise to just wait until the morning since you were convinced that he was asleep. But it wasn’t until you heard some rustling and footsteps behind the door right before it opened.

“Oh,” Changbin rubs his drowsy eyes. “Sorry, I swear I was up and then I closed my eyes and drifted off.” 

It was easy to tell by his bed hair, the way that his natural curls were starting to peek through, “no it’s okay, you must be tired.”

“You have no idea,” he replies and looks at both bags of his luggage that you had been rolling with you since you got back. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Where were they?”

He takes one off of you while you roll the other one into his room, “they were at a different luggage pick-up. But we already rang the airport to say that they were missing and then it took them an hour to track them. Anyway, did you go to see the physio in the meantime?"

About a few hours ago after the concert had finished, Changbin was complaining about how sore he was after the gym. It’s common for him to feel that way since he practically lives in that space. Only this time around, he might’ve pushed himself a bit too hard - that and during the concert. 

“Nah,” he brushes it off as the door closes behind you both. “I can’t see any of them until tomorrow.” 

“Do you think you’re injured maybe?” You ask concernedly. 

Changbin huffs, “I’m not injured! I’m only sore and my muscles hurt like hell. Plus I always warmup and cool down properly.” 

“Okay then, where are you sore?” You question again. 

“Mainly my back,” he answers and goes to sit down on the edge of the bed. 

“Upper or lower?” 

“My upper,” Changbin confirms and tilts his head, looking at you. “I didn’t realise you were so concerned about me.” 

Your eyes narrow at him, “not in the way that you might think.”

“Sure, sure,” he chuckles lightheartedly. “Anyway, if you’re going to ask me so many questions about my injury, you wouldn’t happen to be a physiotherapist right?” 

“So you are injured.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he corrects. “I'm just sore, and I need a good night's sleep.” 

“Well, if you want me to I suppose,” you say, ignoring his tone of voice. 

“Wait...” He asks in disbelief. “Really?” 

“I did a year in physio at college so I know a few things,” you answer, placing your own bag on the lowered counter where luggage is usually stored in the room. “I’m not a licensed one though.”

Changbin ponders; he has no way of getting in to see their physio at this point in time. Even just a massage would be some relief to him. 

Whilst you aren’t professional in either of those fields, you didn’t study it for nothing. You know the functions of the body and muscles inside out. You know what happens to them when they’re under stress, torn, or strained. But also the remedies which can help repair them. 

“Okay then, if you’re able to,” Changbin agrees. “Where do you want me?”

“The bed, so take your shirt off and lie on your stomach,” you instruct. 

Changbin side-eyes you, “a date would be nice first,” he says even though he’s taking his shirt off in a rush.

You roll your eyes and take a small kit out of your bag. It’s stocked with the essentials; plasters, KT tape, scissors, cold spray - usually for Minho if his shoulder is playing up - nail clippers, all of which you have just in case.

These boys are constantly on the go and are prone to getting injured. So even though it’s not your job, you still keep things handy when there aren’t any left. But also because they end up asking you anyway whenever you're around. Spontaneous massages aren’t on that list though, but there's always a first for everything.

By that point, Changbin had stripped himself of his t-shirt, placed it to his side and lay face down on the bed. There were a couple of silent seconds of you preparing what you needed but also admiring Changbin’s body. 

His back and shoulders are broad but especially taut, you’ve seen them before when he walks around the dressing room with his top half stripped of any fabric. But you’ve never seen nor felt it - not that you would in that type of way. 

In saying that, you start by taking the small tub of deep heat, unscrewing the cap, and scooping some of the product onto your hand and setting the tub aside. Your first point of contact with Changbin’s back makes him jolt. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, turning his head on the pillow.

“It’s fine. I’m gonna start now okay?” 

“Got it,” he says. 

You dollop a little bit more of the deep heat onto Changbin before spreading it and working it in until his skin absorbs it. He’s smooth to the touch. Your hands glide over every glorious muscle.

It doesn’t really sink in that you’re doing this until Changbin hums, sounding like he’s in relief. Within a few moments, he feels like his back is pressed up against a heater. His skin is hot and burning slightly, but that’s the whole purpose of the deep heat. It’s to soften the bunched muscles in his back, making it easier to knead and roll them out like dough.

However, given the state this part of his body is in, you can already make an observation on how tense his muscles are under your hands. 

“You’re tight,” you feel as he rubs into a spot just above his right shoulder blade. “When did you say was the last time you went to physio?”

Changbin’s face flushes, he can feel the heat rising to his cheeks as if you put the deep heat on his face. 

“I-I didn’t,” he responds, trying to relax. “But I haven’t been at all so far.”

You pause, “we have three physios and a sports massage therapist for a reason. You can’t tell me that you haven’t been to see one of them so far.”

“Some of the others are seeing them shortly and I didn’t wanna wait that long,” he argues. You use the thumb and the pad of your index finger to dig and narrowly drag down Changbin’s spine, making him contort to the left slightly.

“I’ve still been able to take care of myself after shows and whatnot. Ice baths and stuff like that, so I haven’t had any injuries so far," he adds.

“You don’t just take ice baths though, do you?” You ask, digging for more information to see if he really has been taking care of himself. 

“Yeah, cold showers too,” he adds to his list. 

“Heat is also good for your muscles, you know that right?”

“Not as good as cold techniques,” he says. “Right?” 

“Depends on when you need it,” You point out. “You're a gym rat. I thought you already knew all of this information about taking care of your body-"

“Ah-” 

Your hands still for a second from his reaction, “hurts?” 

Changbin nods before his eyes flash open when you press your thumb deeper into the same spot. He lets out a yelp, his arms coming up to the sides of his shoulders, getting ready to prop himself up. 

“Yeah - yes, that really hurts, fuck,” he groans. 

“If it hurts, it’s working,” you use the flat of your hand to push Changbin back down into the mattress. 

“That’s a very outdated saying,” he strains, trying to absorb the soreness before it eventually becomes bearable. 

It takes him a few moments to melt against your touch now that his back is slightly more relaxed and warmed up. He’s now more susceptible to sensitivity which for him, heightens your contact on him. He doesn’t exactly know why it feels good - strangely good. But Changbin doesn’t complain. 

“Y/N…” he breathes out involunintarily.

You freeze on the spot, wondering if your ears deceived you for a second. Surely Changbin didn’t just moan out your name. All you’re doing is unravelling knots in his back. But even so, you were curious for a split second and when curiosity takes shape, there’s nothing you can do about it. So to test your theory, you take a little bit more deep heat, rubbing it between your fingers and massaging it slowly over the area. 

Changbin’s hands grip the sheets in response. He can’t control any of his reactions to the way your hands smooth over his back, or when the heel of your palm digs and drags nicely down his back. He doesn’t even want to think about where else good he feels.

“How does it feel now?” You test. 

His response is a strange, high pitched hum, but he does give a small nod. You try not to smirk even though it’s not like he’s able to see it. 

“I’m sorry,” Changbin swallows, almost panting. “It's just...you touching me.”

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him.

“No!” he exclaims too quickly. “I mean, only if you want to. I’m okay with it, just…tender.” 

You’re thankful that Changbin can’t see you blushing with embarrassment. You don’t know why you reacted that way but the more you massage his back, the more you forget about the moment. Changbin on the other hand begins to panic when he recognises that he’s actually horny. 

Over the minutes gone by, his cock starts slowly filling out between his legs. It’s an awkward position to be hard and lie down at the same time. Either way, nothing is stopping it from happening and certainly not your hands. The heat, the cream, your touch, the wet, sticky sounds that it’s making, makes him think things that have crossed the border of ‘appropriate’. 

“Are you okay? You seem like you’re struggling a bit,” you witness his shoulder blades start to cinch together.

“Fine,” Changbin turns his face into the pillow. “It’s sore but…it feels good.”

You look down at his hands and see him gripping the sheets again. From any physiotherapist’s point of view, Changbin might just be expressing that this hurts. That you’re really relieving the stress and tension built up in his back. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he mumbles. 

But from your point of view, you can tell that he’s actually enjoying this more than he should be. You mentally scold yourself for jumping to that conclusion, because in what world does someone get off from having their back rubbed? It might be this world because when you realise that Changbin is making small, almost unnoticeable thrusts with his hips, he can’t help but want to speak his mind.

Usually, massages, erotic ones at least, are accompanied by other forms of actions, at least that's what you thought before Changbin started to become visibly flustered

“Changbin,” you say as he takes his tone as a warning.

His eyes flash open, knowing what he’s just done, what he couldn’t help but do, “fuck. S-Sorry, I didn’t expect…”

Didn’t expect what? Changbin doesn’t even know what the rest of his unfinished question means and he obviously doesn’t know the answer. Flustered as hell, he cannot seem to rack his brain for a lie. Even if he did, you would be able to see right through it. 

“Again, it’s just someone touching me...” he mutters aloud what he's feeling.

You pause, “are you sure you don't want me to stop? If not, I’d like to get these last few knots out of your back.”

Changbin knows that this situation could go one of three ways. If he lets you continue to massage him, he will definitely cum. The bonus there is that his back will feel better and also his dick.

But if he asks you to stop, it'll be awkward as hell having to deal with the fact that he’s fully hard. The downside is that there are still knots in his back, and he won’t get to sleep, which ultimately means he'll be in a terrible mood.

The other way is that there is an unlikely small chance that he won't cum. His body might be overly excited right now, but it could pass. There's a 99% chance that he might have time to get soft. But with the way that you're both going, he knows it probably won't happen.

“I…I don’t know,” Changbin replies, clearly confused. “It’s been a while since…someone touched me-“

“That’s okay,” you dismiss his babbling. “It’s not unusual.”

He swallows, bewildered, “it’s not?”

“No,” you assure him. 

At this point, you would stop but for some...fucked up reason, you want to keep going. You really want to see how this ends. You’ve never been someone who half asses things, so how is this any different? Plus it’s technically your fault after making Changbin unintentionally horny. At least that’s the state he’s currently in to your knowledge. 

But you’re okay with that if he is. 

“Wanting contact with other human beings isn’t abnormal Binnie. You’re obviously just a bit touch-deprived.”

“T-That’s a thing?” He asks, turning his head to try and look at you. But you smooth your palm up his spine, massaging into the divots until he reaches the base of his neck so that he can relax and not focus so much on you. 

“There’s this theory that we all need human contact. Not sexually per se, but mundane things like hugs, holding hands and all that,” you start explaining. 

“I guess that makes sense,” Changbin responds, then tries to suppress a grunt when you start gliding lower to his tailbone again.

You’re working the area just under his shoulder blade which at the moment seems to be the most sensitive. That and his dick - indirectly. Changbin is too embarrassed to think about the fact that you can read him far too easily. Either that or he’s just being extremely obvious, which he is. 

“Even just social interaction at times. Studies show that there’s a link between loneliness and touch deprivation,” you add.

He can’t even believe he’s having this conversation with you. At the very most, he can’t believe that your hands are on him and making him feel certain things that are beyond his control. 

“R-Really?” Changbin jolts when you begin kneading his back again, like every cell in his body is on edge. 

“With these interactions, it can release a neurochemical in the brain called oxytocin which is responsible for good feelings…”

Neurochemical...oxytocin….Changbin appreciates the science talk and in fact, it’s strangely hot to hear it come out of your mouth. But he cannot focus on what he’s saying at all, because his dick is achingly hard and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Fuck…” Changbin swallows harshly. “Touch me, please.”

“I believe I am touching you,” you respond coldly. 

He doesn’t even know if your words were teasing or not. He just wants to relieve the throbbing ache in his dick when all he can do is make small thrusting movements. It’s not until you use the pads of his thumbs to press into a few points in his tailbone. It feels good in terms of the pain he had in his back, but now he can’t thrust against the mattress anymore. Not yet at least. 

Changbin whines when you slowly release the pressure of his touch.

“You have a nice back,” you comment, then gently scratch down it with your fingernails, not enough to hurt him, but it definitely makes the deep heat feel hotter. 

“Oh my god m’gonna cum,” Changbin exclaims out in a choked, rushed voice. His words instantly confirm your thoughts, so you continue to slowly rub down his back to his tailbone again. “Please..."

“It’s okay, you can come,” with the heel of your palm once more, you knead just under his shoulder blade, enough to make Changbin keen to the side. 

His eyes snap shut before he’s dipped into pleasure. He goes silent for a few seconds, still making tiny movements, almost as if he were trying to fuck someone into the mattress. For him, it’s an odd sensation because his cock had been completely untouched and neglected. 

Breathing heavily, Changbin slowly opens his eyes when the realisation dawns on him. He spends the first ten seconds of his comedown trying to figure out where he is. Your soothing hands slowly and gently rubbing up his back reorients him. The heat that the cream provided is now turning into a cooling sensation, added in with your touch. It feels good, and even better now that his muscles are at ease. 

“Feel better?”

“H-Heaps,” he swallows, now feeling like someone tipped a bucket of ice water on top of his head.  

“Good,” you smile to yourself, content with that outcome. “You should probably clean yourself up then.” 

-

A/N: thank you everyone for your patience. The last half of this week was so busy for me, so I’m back writing and catching up the works x

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @lizzekat 🩷🩷🩷 (if I’ve forgotten anyone again, please let me know 🙃)

[sameschmidtdiffname]

heyyyy can I pls req something where Mike tries to make it up to the reader after he says something wrong in their 1st fight as a couple? like “I don’t want to lose you” as an apology and they get back together or something along those lines? tysm I really enjoy ur work :))

But of course!!!

Wanting, Waiting

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: Overworked and underfed, you'll go to sleep once some decent work is complete. However, a late night turns into a day long fight.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no gender specific pronouns for Reader, pre-established relationship, argument, cursing, Reader and Mike both got some shit going on, hints of an eating disorder, overworking, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of: suicide/death, depression, drugging, and kidnapping. Vulnerability is gross.

Notes: 'Slip' walked so this could run full speed into a brick wall. I feel as though I may have redeemed myself.

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

This page is mocking me.

The hour is late. I stopped checking the clock around 2:00 A.M., and there's a cup of cold coffee right next to me on this table, several rings on the inside from where the coffee had been left sitting far too long. It's cheap, the flavor sticking to my teeth in a way that settles my lips into a slight grimace as I try to convince my hand to move my pen across the just as cheap notebook paper that has been sitting in front of me since I came home.

Come on. It's words. What the fuck is hard about this?

'It's not hard if you can actually get your head out of your ass and do something,' I think to myself. Not helping.

I have an irritating collection of drafts. Oh yes, I can start them and I can certainly plan out the works before me. But actually writing is somehow impossible, and even though I can feel how thick the block is in my mind, preventing me from communicating my feelings properly, I just can't get break myself out of it.

Come on. Finish one draft. Then everything will click together for the rest.

For the past few weeks it's been just like this. Come home, sit down with projects, and try. But no matter what I do, I just can't focus. It's as though my head simply won't allow it. And this house, quite frankly, isn't helping. It's admittedly unsettling atmosphere, the loud noises born from nothing. It's as though I can feel the weight of the dead that used to sit at the same glass table as I watching me over my shoulder, pressing their non-existent weight against me, making my chest tight with pressure I cannot voice because that's not fair to the ones still here truly haunted by their presence. I'm just a guest who overextends their stay, quite frankly.

Just a page. Just write a page and you can get up for a moment. Ignore how loud the fridge is at something clunks inside of it.

A page. Get a page. Come on, you imbecile, how hard is a fucking pa-

"I thought we talked about this."

It's a testament to my mental state how high I manage to jump in my chair, my tired and over-caffinated heart set off to make me dizzy with over exertion from fear, turning to see who has come to voice their thoughts and damn us both with them.

"Mike," I sigh. I place a hand on my chest, rubbing slightly at the spot where I feel my heart pounding against my sore ribs. "Don't do that."

"Have you slept at all?" Mike asks disapprovingly. His arms are crossed against his chest, heavy bags under his eyes from another night of restless dreams. He can't sleep, I won't sleep. If he'd allow it, we could actually get shit done this time of day.

"A little," I lie. He's just worried. About everything. He always is, which at first was something I loved about him. And usually I still do. It's an admirable trait, to care about someone and love them so much it's only natural to fret over them, to check and make sure they're taken care of properly.

Except it makes me feel guilty.

"Oh yeah? What time?" He asks, narrowing his sleep swollen eyes at me.

Details. Fuck.

"Ah, uh- I don't know, I wasn't looking at the clock," I say sheepishly, trying to flash a disarming smile and make my own bags look like ones of bare minimum rest instead of self neglect. Mike's jaw tightens slightly.

"Oh?" He says in a dull voice that is not raised, yet managed to ring throughout the room nonetheless.

I hum affirmatively, pressing my lips together and fiddling with the cheap pen in my hands, glancing down at it in an attempt at trying not to give myself away.

"Yeah, I don't know. Just like, laid my head on the book and... y'know... drifted off for a couple hours," I try to say casually.

"Ah," he says as though that were enough, leaning now against the doorframe of the hallway, looking at the other wall as though the paint were interesting. "How long after I went to bed, do you think?"

Keep your breathing even. He can smell fear. "Like, a couple," I answer with a shrug.

"Or, like, not at all," he says, turning his head back to stare down at me with a glare.

"I slept," I insist.

"Bullshit. You give me unnecessary detail about your shits post mexican take-out, but you can't tell me what time you fell asleep?" He says accusingly.

"I was asleep! I'm sorry, do you want me to lie and give some time because you need it for some reason?" I ask evenly, shrugging as though to ask what he'd like me to say, blinking at him and adding a tired tinge of a croak to my voice to match his.

"I'm sorry?" He asks, eyes still in narrow slits yet somehow widening slightly, his leg uncrossing from over the other and planting firmly on the floor as he stands straight.

He's not that tall. Kinda short. But he looks much bigger when mad. Kinda like an iguana. I told him that one time and got bit. Jokingly, of course. It's not like he'd just reach over and sna- You know what? Irrelevant.

"I'm just saying," I say, starting to turn back to my notebook as though the conversation were finished.

"No-no, I'd like to hear that again," he says. I can hear his footsteps pad against the flat, tan carpet, my shoulders stiffening slightly as I train my decreasingly neutral eyes on the wrinkled, lined paper in front of me. "I liked the part where you made me sound like some insecure teenager for calling you out on your shit. Very original."

My lips press into a thin line, my grip on my pen tightening slightly.

"It's not that serious, Mikey-"

"Don't bullshit me, and don't use some cheap nickname as a cop out via sympathy," Mike snaps, standing now on the opposite side of the table, pressing his hands now against the glass surface that dirties so easily. Trust me, we've had to clean some prints off of it.

There's a line, and at some point I'm going to cross it. The problem is it's hidden under mental sand that makes me unclear of exactly where it is.

"Michael-"

"That's formal," he says, leaning forward on the table, his tone the same as an interrogating mother just waiting for the moment where no one will blame her for finally tearing you to shreds for what you've said to her outwardly innocent statements. A trap.

"I'm sorry, I thought you didn't like cheap nicknames?" I say, fighting the irritation in my voice, barely managing to remain even as I click my pen to begin writing.

"What's wrong with just Mike?" He asks. He reaches across the table, placing all five of his fingertips on my paper firmly and dragging it back across the table towards him, withholding it from me.

"Would you like me to use just Mike?" I ask.

"I'd like you to make eye contact while you lie through your fucken teeth," he says calmly, not moving as he continues to stare me down.

"Okay, Mike. And what exactly does my sleep schedule mean to you?" I ask slowly, trailing my eyes from his hand, slowly up his arm with pronounced veins and muscles, to the white cotton shirt that was two sizes too large and usually what he wore to sleep in, until I meet his dark and slightly hateful eyes.

"We had a conversation," he starts.

"A conversation," I repeat.

"About a month ago, do you remember?" He asks, cocking his head slightly in that way it does when we both know I'm not going to dare to answer with anything other than he wants.

"You ha-"

"I had a concern," he interrupts me, now looking down at the notebook and studying it as though it were a piece of fine art. "Which involved how absolutely awful your ability is to take care of yourself properly."

"Mike-"

"Shut. Up." Mike says with disturbing calmness. "I'm talking."

Fine.

"It's fucking rude."

Not saying it's not.

"Like your attitude when I try to just help you because clearly, you can't help yourself," he says, now slapping down the notebook to gesture at me as though it were obvious why he was concerned.

I could speak. I'd like to. And he gives me a long enough silence I could. But instead I decide I will simply give him the floor.

"No opinion on this?" He asks shortly.

"No," I say with a dismissive shrug. "You seem to have them for me."

Mike laughs at this statement, and if the sparkle in his eyes didn't seem to have the same dull shine as the glass table between us I'd feel a bit better about it. But I think there's a six foot hole in the backyard I just signed a lease on that makes his disturbingly convincing smile much more worrisome.

"You're funny," he says affectationately. "Get up."

"What?" I ask, blinking.

"Are you deaf now? Up," he says in irritation, beginning to cross back around the table. "This isn't a negotiation."

Before I can speak his hands dig in under my armpits, roughly pulling me to stand and bringing me close to his chest. I should have energy to fight back, I've only been sitting after all. But a physical confrontation would be too loud, first of all. Abby is asleep in her room, and I don't want to make a scene to wake the poor child. Number two, my bones are sore, my head is aching and I generally just do not feel well enough to protest. Physically.

"Put me down, you son of a bitch!"

Verbally, I'm fine.

"You're going to bed, that's final!"

"I have twelve drafts due that I have to get done or else this project-"

"You have four hours of sleep you can get before you have to take your candy ass to work in the fucken morning, or else I'm gonna beat it into you," he hisses directly in my ear, his breath cold and loud so close to me. Jesus, fuck. What did his parents feed him as a child? It shouldn't be this easy for him.

"Oh, I don't do what you want and now you threaten physical violence. Very mature," I mock, reaching out to grip the doorframe of Mike's bedroom, purely to piss him off.

"Save me the dramatics," he snaps in a whisper, wrapping one arm tighter around my waist and using the other to bat my hands away from the frame. I can tell he's genuinely trying not to hurt me, his grip on one wrist firm but careful.

"Just let me write one page," I try.

"That's what you said last night," he says, still trying to pull my hand away. My nails have dug into the frame, making it slightly harder. I can sense his irritation growing. "You got two hours of sleep."

"That's not going to kill me," I argue.

"You haven't slept for more than two hours in a week," he says.

One nail breaks against the frame, making me lose my grip and sending pain down my arm from the awkward angle at which the pressure had snapped it off. I wince slightly, which gives Mike slight pause as he checks my hand, but decides I'm alright before he begins dragging me towards the bed in earnest.

"Why is it so hard for you to just take care of yourself?" Mike asks in frustration.

"I take care of myself!" I say defensively. Mike drops me onto the bed, standing in front of me to prevent any new attempts at escape.

"No, you don't," he says, quiet but firm. "You sit and stare at your notebook and you don't do anything else if you can help it. You sleep for two hours, you go to work, you hardly eat, you don't have energy anymore." Mike's hands are planted firmly on his hips, his nostrils flailing as he tries to take collected, calm breaths. "I care about you. Why can't you?"

"Michael-"

"Stop!" Mike snaps, groaning and turning away from me with a sharp spin on his heel. He buries his hands in his hair in frustration, now pacing between the bed and the door, quietly shutting it so we can argue in peace.

"Why are you so upset?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"Because I don't want to see you live like this. I am concerned and every time I bring it up you dismiss me, you joke, you don't care and I hate that," Mike says, temporarily stopped in his tracks to point at me as he seethes. "I'm watching you waste away and you know what? I'm starting to think part of you likes it."

"Excuse me?" I say, astounded. I cross my arms in front of my chest, cocking my head at him in a way to say 'I dare you to repeat that.'

"You heard me," Mike says, taking a step towards me. "It's like you cannot for one iota of a second conceive of some world where taking care of yourself is a good use of your time. You work, and work until you've burned yourself out so horribly you rot in bed for a month. And unless you're staying here, I hear nothing from you. Not a call, not a fuck you or whatever. It's like you're punishing yourself."

"Now who's being dramatic?" I say.

"See? I can't even point this out without you getting defensive, which just shows you know you're in the wrong!" Mike turns away from me once more, resuming his path of restless walking.

"Why do you even care?" I ask genuinely. This makes him pause again, his glare once more returning to me as he mentally questions my intelligence.

"You know what, I don't know!" Mike snaps, his voice gaining volume. "You are insistent in this fucking- slow method suicide and I'm trying to help you, but you won't let me!"

"I never asked you to care," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"I never asked to care!" Mike nearly shouts, leaning in close to my face and sneering at me.

This breaks the tension.

His face falls as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his eyes widening slightly like my own eyes. This comment shouldn't really sting. I shouldn't let it. But it does. And for a moment, I do. And he sees that clearly.

"... oh," I say softly, my arms relaxing and shoulders sagging ever so slightly as I drop his gaze, trying to shut off my emotions before they're obvious.

"I'm sorry," Mike says quickly, stumbling to his knees in front of me. "I didn't mean that-"

"It's fine," I say, trying to remain as blank as my pages on the kitchen table.

"I just said it to be hurtful," Mike says quickly, his hand reaching up to cup my face. I take it away, turning my head to the side slightly. There's a new chill in the air, one I can feel seizing my chest.

"You weren't," I say. "I'm going to sleep."

"Please, I don't want-"

"I'm going to sleep," I say forcefully, shoving him away and turning to begin undressing from my work clothes that I still wore. Mike is silent behind me, probably thinking, and I'm close to not being able to hold myself together anymore.

"Get out!" I snap, flinging my shirt at him in a rage and beginning to stand from the bed to chase him out. He doesn't need anymore prompt, quickly scurrying out from the room to wherever it is he'll sleep now. Probably on the couch even though there's another room down the hall. A self induced punishment. Knowing him he probably won't even allow himself a blanket or pillow, feeling the cold air fitting for his selfishness.

Good.

-

When I wake that morning, I can smell breakfast in the air. My stomach hurts from skipping meals, but I don't want to eat. First of all, I haven't worked for a meal. There's still plenty to be done with my drafts. And food is a good encouragement to keep working. Second, I didn't ask him to care. And he didn't ask for it either. There probably isn't enough for me, and if there is, he and Abby can debate between the two who will have it. I need to shower.

I take forever washing myself. If that's what you want to call it. It was moreso standing under hot water, letting it run cold until I couldn't stand it anymore and hoping my deodorant is able to do some heavy lifting today. I barely have enough time to get to work, passing silently by Mike and not turning when he calls my name, walking out the door as fast as I can without running.

He follows me outside, something shaking in a bag behind me. When I finally open my car door I'm forced to have my gaze in his direction, his body between the door frame and my car door, presenting me with a bag of lunch.

"Please eat," he begs, placing the bag in my lap unceremoniously and then quickly stepping away and shutting the door himself.

There's a small moment where he and I just share at each other through the glass, time slipping away without notice. He hasn't slept, he'll be late for work if he doesn't get dressed soon, and the bag on top of my thighs is warm. Fresh. A petty part of me wants to roll down my window and throw away the meal, back out of the drive way and let that fester in his mind out of hate. He thinks words can hurt? Actions are so much worse.

But there's something in his eyes. Defeated, resigned. Childlike is almost the word I could use. In front of my car is the 12 year old boy who tried to chase down his brother, the 18 year old who decided to sacrifice his life raising his little sister while saying goodbye to his parents, and the 27 year old man who's just trying to keep everything together.

I don't know what to say to this child. Or to the man.

So, with the turn of my key in the ignition, I don't.

-

It's late when I come home. When the manager had asked me to stay late I almost called Mike to break the silence and tell him this. But there was still a part of me that didn't care whether or not he knew. Really, I didn't have to return home tonight. I could go back to my apartment and just let him rot in bed the way he claims I do. How could he say such a thing, anyways? I rot in bed? What about the days I've walked into the house and he hasn't slept all week, where he's claiming he's trying to kick his medication and he'll get the hang of it soon. Where his sister is eating every meal almost burnt because he can't think straight enough to remember time. Where I've had to coax, beg, demand of him that he just takes a pill because he's laying on the side of the bed, small and curled in on himself, dead eyed and obviously tired but still not sleeping. One time I slipped it into his food. And I felt awful. Do not think for a moment I wanted to do that. There was a betrayel in his eyes when sleep began to overtake him. I hoped he wouldn't notice, but he must've. Some tell in the drugs effect that made him aware his rest was not voluntary. But I didn't care. I stroked his hair through the night, and I'll do it again. He could hate me however long he needed to, he just needed sleep first.

The irony still hasn't struck me when I walk through the door of his house, well past dinner, Abby in the bath. The door was left unlocked, which is unusual for this time of night. Mike jumps from the couch the minute I open the door, standing with his hands by his side anxiously pulling at the edge of his oversized sweater.

Everything's oversized with him. The thought occurs to me that his father was slightly bigger.

"Don't leave me," he says quietly, his voice small and pathetic like him. But I don't say that with hate.

"I just got home," I say. "Be a bit odd to leave again."

I try a smile, but it's artificial and we both know it's only for his comfort. It doesn't touch him, his eyes glassy and lips slightly parted the same way a child's is when they're trying to breathe as their sinuses spring to life in wake of forming tears.

"I didn't mean it," he says, still standing in the same place. If I was a better person I'd probably run to him. But I'm not.

If I were a better person, I'd say I believe him. But I don't. And suddenly my throat is swollen with hurt, my own bottom lip is sticking out and now we're both trying not to cry because this is so overly taxing. We're adults but emotions are hard. Vulnerability is hard. It is a damnation that we both detest, both avoid. In better states we would joke about this, would laugh and tease the other for not having the emotional capability to voice our thoughts. But we're not. So we don't. And now we're crying openly in the off-putting, attempted to look cozy living room that we can never fully relax in.

"I don't wanna lose you," he says between small hiccups, hands now balled into fists that he buries under opposite armpits, shifting his weight so that he doesn't look so small. His glances bounce between me and the hallway table, never fixing on either of us as he tries to state his mind like an adult. "I've barely had you."

In my heart there has been a constant ache, hurt flowing and pumping through my veins like the blood that ran cold last night at his hurtful words. His apologetic words make the ache somehow worse.

"I don't mean to be a burden to you," I say softly, feeling a small, stray tear break the fluid barrier of my waterline to race down my cheek, allowing a pathway to the fatter drops that threaten to quickly follow.

Mike's face shifts, stepping towards me and holding out his arms.

"No, never," he says just as soft, trying to comfort me. I freeze as he approaches, my body stiffening as I try to swallow the lump and convince myself that I can survive his touch. His touch that I normally crave the moment I'm around him, that I seek in the dark of night even when the bed is overheating, that I'd go insane without.

"I've never asked you to care," I say, voice breaking and tears rolling freely now.

"I know," he says into my neck, which is wetting as he shakes around me, his grasp firm and careless of whether or not it's too much.

"I don't mean to cause problems. I just...." I don't know what I mean, how I wish to finish the statement. If I was clever, I could. If I was clever, I wouldn't even be in this problem to begin with.

"I'm just scared," he chokes out, his breathing horrible as he struggles to keep his crying from being obvious. "You look sick all the time and I don't want that."

He's told me the story. His mother wasting away, thinning and slipping, starving and dying. How he'd returned home to a baby wailing in her crib as their mothers body lay in a pool of blood he never really got out of the carpet. He lied to me initially when I saw it the first time, said it was wine. It wasn't until we had a few glasses ourselves that his eyes glazed over and he told me. It was disturbing how neutral he kept himself to the subject. A habit he'd developed much too long ago to break.

"Mike-"

"I try, and I try and if something doesn't give soon I'm gonna fucking lose it," he sobs into my skin, arms tightening around me.

"If what doesn't give?" I ask softly, trying to pull him away to look into his eyes. But he doesn't budge, sobbing a little bit harder and gripping a little bit tighter. He doesn't respond, simply shaking as he breathes heavily against me through his mouth.

"Hey," I say softly, trying to wrap my arms around him, failing and giving up as I realize his grip is too tight. "I'm not going anywhere."

His mouth closes a little, quieting his breathing slightly as he sniffles.

"I'm an idiot, but I'm not suicidal," I say softly, trying again for a joke. He doesn't laugh, but he does pull away slightly to look at my face, lips swollen and quivering as he blinks at me.

"You scare me," he says quietly, not quite meeting my eyes. He's watching my lips, but I think that's because that's the closest he can get to making eye contact.

"I scare you?" I ask, furrowing my brows. I lick my dry, cracked lips for comfort. "Why?"

"Because I love you," he says shakily, sighing as though it were exhausting to admit while still holding that nervous flicker in his eyes. "Because when I think about not being with you the house seems colder. And I can't go back to hating this house."

I open my mouth to respond, but there's more.

"Because I love your stupid smile when you're excited, or how you do that cricket leg thing when you're falling asleep. Or how if you want my attention you'll bury your head in my chest and pretend you're doing it in your sleep even though I won't judge you for doing it while you're awake."

"I don't-"

"I love how defensive you get over things like that," he says, bringing one hand to cup my cheek, resting his thumb that smells like the creamy lavender handsoap next to the bathroom sink on my lips. "I love how you look waking up next to me, how you play with Abby. And for a really long time I didn't see myself ever having kids, but when I see you curling her hair at the kitchen table I think maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I just took up another job and saved money so that we could-"

"Mike-"

"Stop cutting me off," he says gently, his eyes finally meeting mine with just the smallest smile. "It's rude."

At that I do stop, my body finally relaxing into his grasp as I lean into him and his touch.

"I want things I haven't wanted since before Garret went missing," he says, stroking my lip. "And I want them with you."

Dinner was just as delicious as lunch, even if it was late. And the bed is soft like our voices as we make plans for years down the line. And after a week long break, the pages are finally filled once again.

Just like us.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Literally had a come to Jesus moment while writing this that not only do I fear being vulnerable irl, but in writing too. Nearly threw up while writing this. Book aable feet.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[sundeathh]

Trimmed

ONE-SHOT | MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aizawa × GN!Reader • Words: 1,6 K

Summary: A haircut tale

Tags: slice-of-life, cute, fluffy, romantic stuff

CW: none worth mentioning. SFW

The apartment was cloaked in the cozy ambiance of evening, the soft glow of lamps casting warm pockets of light in the living room. As the door creaked open, announcing Aizawa's return, the air seemed to shift with expectancy.

It wasn't the kind of anticipation that made a person’s heart leap. Instead it felt more like the sort of expectation that came from people waiting for their loved ones to get home at regular basis for weeks on end, filled with both excitement and anxiety bubbling up inside.

Even after years of marriage, you still had butterflies for him whenever he entered the room you were in.

"I'm back," Aizawa's gravelly, deep voice resonated through the space, carrying the weight of a taxing day. He unburdened himself of his shoes and bag, the fatigue etched on his features. The journey down the building's hallway felt like a gradual shedding of the day's strain. 

"Hey, Sho, welcome back!" You called from the kitchen, your voice a gentle melody amid the quiet that once reigned in the place. "Long day?" You asked, your eyes landing on his tense figure.

He nodded, pausing at the kitchen's doorway before offering a small smile. "Yeah, you could say that."

The smell of cooking food wafted towards him as his gaze swept over the room. The counter was covered in various ingredients, some in the middle of the cooking process and others just sitting there in piles, ready to be added to the mix when needed. 

"Did everything go well today?" You asked, turning around from the stove to greet him properly with a kiss on the cheek. He returned it affectionately, leaning against your body for comfort and security, but only for the briefest moments before pulling back to take a look at you.

"Yep," he responded, the same way he always did every time. He was never one for long talks or unnecessary details about his day, preferring instead to focus his attention on how you were doing instead.

"How are you feeling today? Anything interesting happened while I was gone?" He questioned, reluctantly pulling away from your welcoming embrace to remove his binding cloth from around his neck. 

"I'm feeling alright." You answered truthfully before proceeding with a small shrug. "And not really. The highest point of my day was going grocery shopping. It was a tiring work though, so I didn't do much after that."

"Ah, right," the hero nodded knowingly, his cloth now hanging around one of his arms. "Next time you go grocery shopping, remember that I have to be there too." Aizawa reached out his free arm and gently pulled you into another tight hug.

Your arms wrapped around his torso in return, your face pressed against his chest. "And put even more tasks on your overly busy day? No way." Your tone was playful, but there was an undertone of concern that Aizawa picked up on instantly. 

"If anything, I should be the one getting all the chores done on this end, since you're not here as much as I am. I don't want you working yourself too hard," you protested.

His head rested on top of yours, his hair tickling your skin lightly. "Still, I'd rather it be me than you," he said firmly. "Besides, it makes me feel bad knowing I'm making it so hard on you due to my workload." 

You sighed fondly. "You know I wouldn't mind helping out if I could." You stated, hoping to make it clear to him that you didn't mind. But there was nothing else you could say to change his mind, so you simply agreed with him with a small pout.

You carefully untangled yourself from his tight but gentle grip, searching for his eyes. "C'mon, sexy, go wash off the sweat and dirt that's clinging to your face. Dinner is gonna be ready soon," you told him with a soft voice.

He let out a tiny chuckle before walking towards the bathroom, a fond, small smile adorning his lips. You smiled at the warm feeling in your chest, and then went back to your cooking, the sound of running water following shortly thereafter.

As he retreated to the bathroom, a cascade of garments left in his wake, and the warmth of the shower soothed his sore muscles as he rinsed away the dust that had accumulated during his arduous workday.

Shower felt even better than normal after a tiring and long day, and his shoulders loosened as he stepped under the steaming showerhead. 

He had his eyes closed and his mouth partially open as he used it to breathe while the water poured over his head, rinsing the shampoo away from his scalp. It was an intimate and vulnerable moment. It was also calming.

After cleaning himself up, he stepped out to dry his body and get dressed in his sleepwear – a pair of loose pants and a simple t-shirt.

Upon checking to make sure everything was alright with his appearance, Aizawa stared at his reflection in the slightly fogged-up mirror. His gaze lingered on the unruly curtain of long bangs that veiled his eyes, now being an unintended consequence of neglect amid the demands of his work.

The weariness etched in his features was momentarily eclipsed by a bemused frown. Aizawa ran his fingers through the disheveled and damp strands, a silent acknowledgment of the overdue task at hand.

He brushed his hair, aware of how his bangs were almost reaching his chin. Putting the hairbrush down, he tried his best to comb them again with his fingers, trying to make his hair less wild and disorderly.

After a few minutes of struggling, he sighed exasperatedly, giving up his attempts. What good would a couple of extra combing do him anyway? It was getting too long. It was bound to become an issue sooner or later.

In defeat, Aizawa emerged from the bathroom, a towel draped over his shoulders, his usually unkempt hair dripping slightly. He stood in the doorway again, gazing at you with a hint of weariness.

"Is dinner almost ready?" He inquired, his eyes flicking towards the culinary ballet that persisted while he was in the shower.

You glanced over your shoulder, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Almost. Just finishing up. Why? Hungry?"

He scratched the back of his head, a familiar gesture of contemplation. "Not just that," he admitted, his gaze turning to the bathroom's door for a moment. "I think it's time I did something about this." His hand gestured towards the curtain of his disheveled bangs.

Your eyes followed the unspoken cue, understanding what he meant. Setting down the spatula, you approached him, your fingers lightly grazing the strands that shielded his eyes.

"Want me to do something about it?" You asked, your tone teasing yet sincere. Aizawa's eyes met yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you, and he muttered. "If you don't mind."

You tiptoed, pressing a chaste kiss against his cheek, and smiled. "Don't be shy," you murmured. With a gentle gesture, you guided him to a chair at the kitchen table, the aroma of the cooking dinner enveloping both of you.

As he sat down, you walked over to the bathroom, searching for a comb and for the box that held secure your sharp hair scissors.

"Ready for a change?" You teased, after coming back to the kitchen and getting closer to where he sat, standing in front of him. Your fingers ran softly through his damp hair.

Aizawa huffed, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Just don't cut it too short, please. I like it longer."

The corners of your mouth quirked slightly, and you nodded in response, combing his hair in a bun before tying a elastic around it, securing the bun as a temporary fix to prevent his locks from getting in the dangerous way of the scissors.

As you moved on to combing his fringe next, you noticed Aizawa closing his eyes, the tension in his frame gradually decreasing. The sight warmed your heart, and the peaceful atmosphere settled around you as you focused on combing his hair, gently moving the comb through his bangs, careful not to damage it.

You gently lifted his chin to get a better look, and after a minute or two of gentle combing, your hand finally stopped its motion to reach for the scissors you had placed on the table. "Don't move now, okay?" You whispered gently, the words accompanied by a gentle touch to his head.

"Mhm," Aizawa hummed softly in agreement. He kept his eyes closed and continued motionless, the tactile sensation of hair falling gently through your hand heightened the intimacy of the moment.

He finally allowed himself to relax under your touch. The occasional snip of the shears resonated like a quiet melody, punctuating the soothing ambiance.

"You're surprisingly good at this," Aizawa remarked, breaking the comfortable silence.

You chuckled. "I've had some practice. Plus, it's a small way to take care of you." 

He hummed once again, his hands resting loosely on top of his lap, now completely relaxed.

You carefully trimmed away the last remaining locks of hair, brushing his hair until only half the mess remained.

After taking a small step back from your handy work, you admired it. "Done. I didn't cut it too much. It'll still keep its fluffy quality, don't worry."

Aizawa opened his eyes and gazed up to meet yours, and his eyes softened, his expression becoming more serene by the second. 

Taking the scissors from your hand and placing them back on the table, he grabbed your other hand into his, pulling it towards his lips in a gentle hold. He placed a kiss on the back of your hand. "Thank you. That was very kind of you."

You shook your head, smiling in amusement. "No need to thank me, love. We both know I'd help you with whatever you needed even without you saying anything. You deserve to be taken care of every once in awhile." You squeezed his hand slightly as he leaned forward, pressing another chaste kiss onto your knuckles, his stubble tickling the soft skin of your fingers.

After pulling away from touching your hands, he stood up, a gentle smile on his face. "Let's finish up with dinner," he said, ready to assist you.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

[zorrasucia]

"Just sleeping and fucking all day," I AM DEAD!!! and i revived just to BEG you to expand on this please i just love them so much 😭

I'm so glad you liked it, Anon! I came up with something but I'm like 90% sure it's not what you were asking for - I aimed to write more smut and it turned into saccharine fluff somehow. I apologize. Rest assured that the next update for this fic is business as usual, very spicy and contains Carmy finally ******* ****** :)

Teach Me Tonight - Deleted Scene 2.0

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] Deleted Scene: [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Mature (1k)

Tags: Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Smut, Virgin!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Domesticity

"Hey, baby," Carmy mumbled with a smile, rolling over in bed and looking at you with sleepy eyes.

You had padded into the room and leaned over to kiss his neck, waking him up from his third nap of the day. In between, you had fucked - slow and loving, then quick and hard, then a mix of both. You felt tired in the best way - and still somehow you wanted him. But you could wait.

"Shhh. I'm not here for another round," you soothed, moving a lock of hair out of his face. "Got us some pizza," you settled across from him, laying the box between you.

He sat up and ogled you shamelessly. You were wearing jeans and one of his shirts, your nipples showing through the white fabric.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he shook his head and focused on the slice of pizza you handed him instead.

"I mean," you gestured at him, his naked torso and satisfied smirk, "likewise, Carm."

You shared a hungry look while taking a bite of pepperoni. He broke first, looking up at the ceiling, away from you.

"How's it feel?" he asked.

"Mmm?" you nudged his leg with your foot.

"You come like two, three times when I can only do one and be just useless..." he blushed, curiosity tinting his skin. "I was just wondering what that was like, if all women were like that."

You smiled. Sometimes you forgot that he was a virgin before you.

"A lot of women can, uh, come multiple times," you explained. "If it's done properly, if you work for it," you cleared your throat. "Some women can't come at all."

"That sounds, uh-" Carmy struggled.

"Miserable?" you supplied and he nodded. "It can be. But sex isn't always about coming, you know? It's about being close and getting to know each other."

Carmy hummed pensively.

Just now, between one round and the next you had fallen asleep still intertwined, spent, his arms around your waist and his softening cock inside you. It was nice, to be so close with zero expectations of it going anywhere.

"What've you learned about me? With sex, I mean," he asked, his blue eyes wide.

"That you're giving, uh, determined, a fast learner," you pondered for a minute while you chewed. "A bit of a control freak but we knew that from before," he chuckled. "And you think you don't deserve good shit, even though you do."

"Pretty spot on," he let out a shaky breath.

You caressed his calf over the bedsheets. It felt strange to be talking about this but it had been a fucking weird day, and discussing orgasms with Carmy while eating pizza fit right in.

"You're a great fuck, Carm," you said softly. "And that takes patience and care and- I love that you want to make me feel good. I do," his gaze was downward and you reached for his hand. "I just don't want you to think you need to be perfect for me here too, you know? There's no pressure."

Carmy nodded and his eyes met yours, he gave you a soft smile.

"Thanks," he brushed your knuckles with his thumb. Then his smile turned mischievous. "Just to be sure, you do like coming though?" he looked for confirmation, head tilted.

"Yeah," you laughed. "Obviously, yeah," you poked at his side and reached for another slice of pizza. "I'm just saying there's no pressure, okay?"

"Okay," he took a big bite of crust. "You didn't answer my question from before," he prompted, raising his eyebrows. "How does it feel?"

"Uh. Well, you don't know how good it's going to be until you're coming. Sometimes it slows down, becomes softer. Or you get halfway through the next and get stuck there," you shrugged. "Sometimes it builds up, becomes more intense each time-"

"Like the last one?" he asked.

You blushed - the memory of him on top of you, his chain dangling near your mouth, his hands holding your wrists above your head, taking up all your thoughts. He had fucked you through your first orgasm until you saw stars and your moans turned into cries of pleasure.

"Exactly like that," you replied bashfully like it wasn't you that had begged him to keep going and fuck you harder.

"How many have you done?" Carmy asked after a while.

"Huh?"

"How many times you've come in a row?" he repeated, that calculating look back on his face. "What's the max?"

"I don't know, five?" you laughed nervously. "I think you're getting the wrong message from this, Carm."

"No, I know," he shook his head. "I was guessing we could start with all that 'no pressure' thing tomorrow. And I think I still have one more round left in me today, so..."

"What the fuck, Carm?" you giggled.

You covered your face with your hands, hiding how flustered you were.

"I'm serious," he said, amusement still showing in his tone. You finally uncovered your face and looked at him. He was smiling but he wasn't joking. "I don't know how to be calm," he explained. "I don't know how to fucking relax and be normal. I never have. Being with you- That's the closest I've come to that," he said softly. You cupped his face tenderly. "But sometimes it gets so crazy that the only thing I know I can do well is make you feel good. That's why I can be a control freak and competitive and insane..."

You shushed him.

"You're fine, baby," you caressed Carmy's shoulders, scooting closer to him. "I love that you're all those things. I just- You push yourself to the limit. You can hurt yourself trying to make everything perfect," your thumb traced the edge of the dark circles around his eyes - all from early mornings and late nights at The Bear. "I don't want to be that for you - another weight, another thing that needs to be perfect."

"You're not," he whispered. "You've never been that, okay?"

"Okay," you sighed and surged forward to kiss him, his face between your palms.

Even after the kiss was over you stayed there, your forehead on his, and your noses touching.

"So," you said after a while, "how about we finish this," you pointed at the pizza, "and watch a movie?"

You had learned that watching a movie with Carmy was shorthand for a nap on the couch since he was always so fucking tired.

He chuckled against your mouth.

"I think I can manage that," he replied, guiding you by the hand to the living room.

~

[Part 8]

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

[synamartia]

GUYS I SWEAR I'M TRYING TO FINISH SMUTMUS. I just can't stop myself from adding new things each time I try to enter the final editing stage 😭 I keep telling myself to save some bits for future stories, but fuck! It's getting too good for me to stop~ 😉 and then I get on here and get inspired to add something else, which throws me back a couple steps cause I'm trying to make sure it flows properly. SOMEONE TAKE AWAY MY PHONE- *gets smacked down*

Btdubs I've used the word "tongue" WAY too many times so if anyone could help me with synonyms or alternative ways to describe the tongue that'd be great 🥲

Be prepared though, once it's done and posted, I'mma take some time to respond to messages/comments/reblogs, catch up on some reading *looks at Hazel, Mink, & Danny* and write ESSAYS on every little detail! Yall might wanna put me on mute when that happens 🤣

I'll come back and add proper CW tags to all the teasers I release later, but for now (and just as a general rule of thumb with anything I post): MDNI! And jsyk, it WILL BE WORTH IT. I've doubled my word count from the original nine parts, and it's still growing. So. Y'know.

GET 👏 READY 👏 FOR 👏 10K+ 👏 WORDS 👏 OF 👏 ABSOLUTE 👏 FILTH 👏👏👏👏

Quickly, you turned your head and pushed yourself up. “No! No, I can…” you paused for a moment to stifle a yawn. The incident that led to all of this occurred near the end of your work day, so you were already fairly tired when this started. The unexpectedly hard orgasm wasn't helping any, but the promise of even more kept you going. Besides, you couldn't be the only one having fun here. That wouldn't be fair. “... I can keep going. I wanna keep going,” you insisted, lowering your leg as you pushed yourself up straight, turning to face him fully now. “For you.” You added, staring up at him with an amorous look that made his breath hitch in his throat for a moment. Cautiously, you raised your hands to gently cradle his face, standing on your tip toes so you could place a soft peck on his smiling lips.

Lowering yourself to stand proper now, you began to trace your hands down his neck and chest, not missing the way his muscles still tensed at your touch. It was going to take some time, you realized, to get him to a point where he welcomes your touch rather than shies away from it. You hoped that he would give you that time; outside of this incident that you so clumsily caused, of course. When your hands reached the waistband of his pants, you looked up at him and waited for his permission to continue - something small and near insignificant but nevertheless something he still appreciated. He would have to reward you for that later. Nodding his head, Alastor watched you as you slowly pushed both his trousers and briefs down past his hips, his aching cock springing from its prison and slapping lightly against his lower abdomen. He looked away for a moment, unable to hide his growing discomfort with being so bare in front of another person. Gently, you pressed on his jaw with your left hand to bring his narrowed eyes back to your face. “Hey,” you called. “You can trust me, Alastor,” you assured him, knowing full well that was only part of the problem. Mouth twitching, Alastor stared at you as you leaned in to place tender kisses to his chest, your eyes never once leaving his face as you lowered yourself to your knees before him. “I promise,” you spoke softly, hands tracing the defined muscles of his abs and gliding along the dips of his pelvic v. Bringing one hand down to rest on his thigh, your other gently wrapped around the base of his cock. Humming softly as you smiled up at him, you rubbed your cheek against his length, then grazed your lips over his leaking tip. “I just want to make you feel good,” you continued to assure him, not missing the shaky sigh he gave in response to your touches. Experimentally, you let the tip of your tongue dart past your lips and against his crying slit, his entire body tensing as one of his hands moved to tangle within your tresses while you continued to deliver kitten licks to his sensitive tip. You stared up at Alastor with such innocence in your big doe eyes; he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from forcing his cock as far down your throat as it could go. “Is that okay?” You asked after a couple more licks to his slit. “Will you let me make you feel good, Alastor?” You asked him so sweetly, voice dripping with honey as his name rolled off your devilish tongue. You really knew how to push his buttons. With a drawn out moan vibrating through his chest, you barely had time to fully open your mouth as he pushed his hips forward and guided your head down until your nose brushed against the carmine strands at his base, his head tilting back at the long anticipated sensation finally washing over him as he breathed out a singular,  “Yes!”

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.67)

(Sneak Peek) (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You and Hobi bury a dead body (That's a lie, yoongi buries it for you).

Tags: blood, gore, body horror, death, dead bodies, everyone is pretty beat-up in this, brief implied self-harm but it's very quickly squashed- seriously it's nowhere near as bad as past scenes but i do have to tag it, Dissociation, tae is in the freeze part of fight or flight. hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns, flashbacks, discussions of past abusive relationships, everything is very fluffy until it's not,

W/c: 11.3k

A/N: Are you guys ready for Hoseok's secret reveal??? I'm really excited!!! But also terrified because this whole series has lead up to this point!!! A good number of people have already guessed his secret so congrats on getting it early <3

Previous part- Masterlist - First part

Jungkook holds Tae up underneath the warm spray of water. The glass is foggy in places and clear and others, occasional spots of red water joining the constellation of them. Resting against Jungkook's chest, her body is prone and almost lifeless. Eyes vacant and glassy. So shaky and tired as her body rockets down from its adrenaline high. A drop so abrupt that she could hardly hold herself up. A drop so terrifying that Jungkook must do it for her.

He doesn't mind, none of him minds as he cradles the back of her head oh so gently. Tae flinches, weather from pain or the sudden movement. Jungkook meets Jimin's eyes through the foggy glass and then yours. biting his lower lip before Jimin nods and he keeps going.

Evidence is evidence and washing off can’t wait. 

Jimin has joined you upstairs with the body already packed away and on its way to being buried under the foundation of the house. Jimin watches on from outside the shower as he instructs Jungkook in a quiet voice on how to clean Tae of evidence properly. He's been quiet since then. Staring at them while Tae stares blankly back. Namjoon sat you on the toilet to tend to your hands and the gash on your forehead.

You watch them them from where you sit- mostly you just watch tae. When his body doesn’t block your view.

Your wounds are in that awkward place of not being deep enough for stitches but still a little too deep to not need something. After a brief debate, Namjoon seals them with a bit of non-surgical glue that stung terribly and then regular gauze over the top.

Your hands are swelling and clotting. Scabbing although trying to touch anything is too painful. Closing your fingers at all hurts. Namjoon holds you so lightly it hardly feels like he's holding you at all.

The gash on your forehead gets two little sutures, Namjoon apologizes after every wince.

He tosses his sutures kit into the bathroom sink the second he’s done. Namjoon gets on his knees before you. The plastic that covers the whole bathroom crackling as he does. Jimin had the great idea to cover the bathroom with sheets of plastic, to cut down on the cleanup.

"It's going to scar," Namjoon says, a little sadly. thumb skimming over the mark.

You swallow hard. You still taste blood. You want to brush your teeth, You want to shut the lights off and go to sleep. You want noodle and you want Yoongi you want everything from the past few hours- the past few years to be gone and over with- You want-

You want to snap at him that it doesn't matter that it will scar. That you're covered with scars already and you don't care but-

Namjoon kisses your forehead. a lingering brush.

You look over at Tae and her eyes flicker blankly to you. Jungkook keeps bringing the boar bristle brush up and down her back in soothing little circles.

When you turn back to Namjoon he's pursing his lips and blinking away tears as he looks down at your hands. You resist the urge to say you’re sorry, You’re not sure what for. the terrible feral hunger in you gone as quick as it's come.

Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the hollow of your knees, and you meet his eyes, even though you don’t want too- even though it feels too much like a confession already.

“I’m going to say this now, before you get any ideas; This is not your fault and I am not mad at you and Tae for doing what you did-”

“Namjoon-”

He continues on, words rushing out, “I’m proud of you pup, so proud. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here- I promise I won’t disappoint you again as pack-“ You cover his mouth with your hand, gauze and all.

The center section is already turning bloody. Although that’s hard to tell if it’s just because you’re still covered in it. You’re the last one to shower. The last one to get clean. Namjoon shouldn’t be touching you at all.  

And yet he does, yet he cradles your face, brushes the tears from your cheeks, gets blood on his hands. Evidence is evidence, but love has a steeper sort of price if you don't express it when you can.

When you take your hand away, Namjoon doesn’t try to speak again. someone says something that you don't hear, that you can't hear.

When Namjoon stands and you look up, Jungkook has the shower door open for you.

Coming Saturday February 24th at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

[mianaissante]

34+35 — jujutsu kaisen, n. kento 🩰

tags: face riding, 69, size difference kink, nanami kento/fem!!reader, established relationship, 18+, nsfw.

“ you drink it just like water, you say it tastes like candy”

୨୧ it is recommended to listen to 34+35 by ariana grande whilst reading

minors dni, enjoy!

one of many things you had to consider before dating nanami kento was his "alleged" wonderful libido. you thought he was the kind of man who'd pump in a few tries inside you and burst all over your womb and call it a day, no offense. but in several ways, nanami has proved you wrong of that god forsaken assumption.

he had the sexual drive of a horny teenager, even worse, one with a stash of all the latest sex magazines. the complete opposite of his usual demeanor, calm and collected, patient and understanding. it's as if when he's turned on he flips onto a whole new personality and it's game over for you.

and for all honesty, it had you questioning whether he was a sex addict.

not that you were complaining or anything, but maybe you were, because who in the hell would be able to keep up for more than 10 rounds? you were worried for your organs constantly being rearranged by his huge length, not that you were complaining either, you loved his dick and the way he strikes it inside like he memorized every nook of your walls.

but there are times when you give out and the next thing you know your inner thighs are bruised, laced with peppering hickeys paired with a pain you could not bare. your hips weren't any better too, they felt like they got detached from the rest of your body from the intensity of his rampaging thrusts.

and why were you thinking all of this while cuddling him in bed, watching a cute romcom on the tv in his room? you felt as though the air had become thick, in any shape or form, it was suffocating to say the least. your arms were hooked on his strong, broad, body, barely even reaching the other side because of his huge size.

with eyes on the movie, your legs were encircling his hips like a koala clinging to a tree. nanami wasn't a man of culture, to you atleast. he was like every millennial who was serious about their job, he didn't have any interests of anything, just work..and maybe a mix of you and coffee.

after a long week in the office and back to back flights from tokyo to malaysia, he was tired, and more evidently frustrated.

you were innocently watching the movie, breathing softly in his chest as he played with strands of your hair.

your eyes flicker softly from the screen to him, “ how was work baby?” a huff escaped from his lips, eyes sunken from all the sleepless nights he spent. your legs were running up and down against his and onto his hips, knowing how much he'd like it.

especially since it's been a month since you guys had done anything overtly sexual, you smiled.

“ work was the usual, i'm beginning to consider gambling and tricking men into giving me their millions” he jokes, the skin near his eyes crinkling as he simpered a small grin. “ i missed you so much.” he whispered on your forehead, planting a kiss on it softly.

“ me too,” you paused, stopping your legs from going down on his hips now. “ are you still stressed ken?” cooing, you removed your legs from his warm body, revealing the tent he had underneath the blanket that you both were in. “ was work so hard that you missed me?”

“ i'm still stressed” he says as a matter of fact, “ and yes it was bad enough that i missed you terribly sweetheart.” your eyes darted from his lips to his irises.

you removed the fabric away from your sticky body and away from nanami who adjusted himself to sit properly next to you. his eyes were burning with a glint of lust, “ darling, whatever are you planning right now you have to stop.”

“ why,” you pout, sitting in w. you splayed your hands on the bed between your thighs, head tilted to the side in curiosity.

“ i might be too much baby, we can't do anything right now.”

“ nonsense ken, let me help you.” you reached for his boxers, yes boxers, when at home and you're cuddling with him he's only in his boxers while you were in your usual pajamas which were tank tops and your flimsy sets of underwear.

you bit your lips, you just knew what you were getting into, but did he get bigger or was it you just tweaking? your gaze was met with his hardened sheath hidden from the world by his cotton underwear. as your hands were inching closer to his clothed dick, his hands, bigger, calloused, and thicker, envelopes yours. you glance at him, lips pursed.

“ let me atleast eat you out before we do anything more,” he pleads.

within a span of seconds all your clothes were tossed messily on the floor while nanami placed himself on the foot of the bed, his head on the edge of it with you shakily shimmying your underwear off.

“ are..you sure of this, ken?”

“ trust me on this sweetheart, i'll make you feel great.” he smiles, placing his hands on your hips, a grip tighter than usual.

“ won't you suffocate to death?” you ask him again, in case he'd ever change his mind..but you knew he was just as stubborn as you. “ i would love to suffocate between your legs, [name].”

“ w-well i haven't shaved and i—” he cuts me off, “ I don't care, just let me go down on you.”

you shook your head embarrassingly, it was going to be a long night indeed.

you swung your leg over his head, your knees coming into contact with both ends of his temples, “ sink down on me darling.”

your lips gaped, wanting to detest to his orders but you knew you couldn't, not when he's already licking his lips at the sight of your puffy cunt, a little wet from your initial interaction with him.

your heart was pounding louder than drums, thumping harder in your ears until it clouded your mind, you couldn't breathe. there was no doubt that you were turned on by this, and you were excited about it.

his firm hands guided your hips to settle on his face, you hovered above him slightly, just enough for his lips to meet with your slit, just enough for his tongue to nestle itself in your slick, you gulped, hearing his grumble.

“ you're not sitting down,” his hot breath fans with your heat, your body shuddered in the feeling, knees almost giving out. “ i'm scared i'll suffocate you, ken.” you trailed.

“ fine, i guess i'll have to make you sit down by yourself darling.” he lets go of your hips, leaving a red mark on your skin from his intense grip. you had your arms on top of his chest while you were on your tiptoes trying not to give out.

gentle fingers slithered its way towards your cunt, spreading your lips apart which revealed the plump flesh of your cunt. a soft erotic gasp erodes from your mouth, realizing his tongue was prying your pussy open. you were reeling in.

“ hah..shit,” it was as if you forgot how he felt like, licking you clean and dirty. nanami flicks your flesh slowly, circling his tongue repeatedly on your skin before teasingly tugging on your clit with his lips.

the blonde haired man spat on your gaping hole, tapping his tongue on and off it before swirling its tip on your pulsing clit. his lapping muscle felt so divine, it was as if you were reaching near heaven with the way he struck himself inside and around your dripping cunt.

“ k—kent—ohh!” you cried, biting the inner walls of your cheeks when he started to flatten his thick tongue underneath your heat, a constant pace of licking upwards with no stop, cupping your bud with his lips before sucking it in sharp breaths, the suctioning sending you else where besides earth.

your legs were shuddering against his feverish, tantalizing, kisses. “ just like that sweetheart,” he praised as he felt your hips bucking uncontrollably out of his simple actions. “ attagirl,” he grins beneath your slick, sucking harder on your clit while his tongue flicked it around in left and right motions, vandalizing your innocence.

“ sh—shit,” you managed to let out a gutteral moan, your hands were now crumpled against his chest, knees still swaying while you lost your balance. “ k—kento—hah” a knot in your stomach began to wrinkle in, closing you with a gap you knew too well.

his movements began to be more erratic than usual, he was quick to his tongue whilst suctioning himself earnestly onto your clit. he was rough and god did it feel so fucking good. you couldn't help yourself up anymore and nanami noticed. his hands which held your cunt apart left and travelled down on your legs, letting you sink your knees onto the soft mattress which made you squat down on his face.

“ mhnm—right there—hah—ah!” eyes rolling back into the cave of your sockets, you felt yourself clutching harder on his chest as you tried to keep yourself afloat. it was too much, he was too much. nanami kept himself at a normal pace this time around, letting his ears enjoy the slick sounds of your wet slit seeping with juices.

“ you taste good, darling.” he groans beneath you, making use of his nose to run up and down your pulsing hole. “ sh—shit! kento!” fuck..holy shit, what the fuck was that? you were giving in, and you were almost there. you gave up crunching yourself in such a tight position and rose, arching your back in pleasure as nanami's strong hands grounded you against his big nose.

“ d—don't stop!” you whined, leaning backwards throwing your head back like an animal who just got loose. your hand found itself on the back of his head while your other toyed with your pebbled nipple, “ I don't on plan doing so,” he gruffed, taking a dose of you again, flicking his tongue in circles around your bud then suctioning again with his lips.

you were delirious at this point, finally sinking down on his face, the pressure fluttering your stomach ever so suddenly. “ fuck, [name], i completely forgot how great you taste..” he trembled, muffling out the words as his lips were against yours.

“ i missed your needy cunt babe, shit..”

your hips wove back and forth, shaking in circles and in infinities. “ fuck yes, yes, yes! kento!” with every strike of your grinds your voice became more vulnerable, you were feeling something pent up in knots, curling its way towards your end.

“ keep going baby, don't stop grinding,” he says, “ you're sweet as candy.”

those words were enough to spiral you down to your doom, it was a never ending sensation, toes curling as your thighs clenched on his head, which in turn made the man grunt in short breaths. “ hah—h—ngh—mhnn,” fingers clasped your hardened nipples, pinching whilst tugging aggressively as you rode harder, feeling his nose come into contact with your aching, seeping hole.

he smiled beneath your beautiful cunt which glistened with the mixture of your own secretions and his saliva. “ use me darling, however you want, just like that.” god he knew what words to say to make you feel like such a slut, such a filthy whore who's thirsty for his feverish touches.

you felt on edge, it was pooling in, your eyes were rolling back yet again, toes curling together, cheeks flushed in red, lips glowing in wetness, and legs shaking so aggressively, this was it. your hips struck one last time before slumping forward down on his body with your ass up, still giving him space to licking your pussy.

you spasmed on top, breathing sharply as your stomach began to tie together, contracting as your pussy pounced upwards with clear liquid spraying against the man's face. you just squirted on him, and he..was pleased. and with that you slumped further on his lips, your body now laying against his.

“ you're so fucking hot [name], you got me wet baby.” he grinned against your buzzing cunt still squirting the rest of the liquid out of its entrance, he fanned hot air against your pussy which made you shudder, licking you once again.

“ k—kento...fuck...” you were overstimulated, and more evidently, you were tired..and he just ate you out. your sleepy eyes left the corner of the room to his length which hid behind his boxers.

you just had to return the favor.

you rose a bit, reaching for his boxers then pulling them down to get a feel on his hardened dick. your hands dragged onto him, palming his sheath with bitten lips. you were so turned on just by touching the head of his cock.

the man behind you winced, groaning in his place as he ate you out eagerly, your fingers circled his tip, tapping on its opening before dragging it further down on its body, feeling every curve and nerve which rested beneath his skin. he wasn't this big last time, what happened?

“ sweetheart you don't have to”

his voice stopped you from reaching his balls, you looked behind him with a confused look.

“ you aren't feeling pleasure ken..”

“ i already am—” he reaches forward towards your cunt, flattening his tongue then swirling it in circles whilst pulling hard on your hips. “hearing the juices drip from your puffy cunt is enough for me baby..im so close”

“ let me help you ken..” you whisper, now palming his head in patterns before pumping it up and down using both hands. yes, both hands.

he denies you, shaking his head as a no, “ let me do all the work here sweetheart.”

you shook your head as no as well, “ hush kento, let me help...”

swiftly, you swished your hair to one side, facing away from him and onto his groin which rested his length. you gulped at the sight of it clothed, imagining what it would look like outside, not that you don't know..its just been so long since you've seen him.

sighing, you dragged his boxers down, his hips rising to help you with it. your eyes widened, lips bitten in surprise, his throbbing cock springs out from his underwear, finally facing you daringly.

you were trying so hard to focus as he was busy suctioning himself up against your bud, you just had to pleasure him in some way.

his length wasn't what you expected, for fuck's sake, it stood as tall as your entire head...as thick as your forearms. he was big already, just not this big. you swallowed a lump in your throat as you inched closer to him, smelling his hot sex feathering its way into your nose.

your lips found itself settling on his head, “ f-fuck..” he was that sensitive huh?

you stabilized yourself in his length, a hand palming his balls while the other pumped his dick. “ g—god, baby if you—” he stops flickering his tongue on your hole, letting his head sink on the plush bed. “ fuck,” he guts out while you squeezed your cheeks together around his head, your tongue circling it so hungrily.

he keeps up with your actions, both of you now drunken with each other's sexes, juices forever seeping away while you mindlessly swallowed his length. his dick was big, it was beginning to hurt, but got were you so turned on by his noises.

he was letting out soft gasps, hard groans, and dozens of praises, you could only clench your thighs hard by him.

you could only cover a few inches of his fat cock with your tight mouth, anything after that will choke you to death. “ keep going [name], don't stop..” he groaned against your slit, he was still going at it.

you smiled on his length, eyelids brimming to close as you sleepily fucked him with your lips, you felt guilty though, you couldn't swallow him down to your throat. maybe there was some way you could ease your way through it?

you spat on his dick, leaving your lips away from his head, a string of precum and saliva bridging it together. humming in pleasure, you pumped his hard cock with both hands your grip tighter and harder. “sweetheart, please...softer..i—i might—” he whimpers, eyes closing shut forcibly, his lips quivered with the way you dragged your hands up and down.

squelch, squelch, splat, squelch.

continuous sounds escaped from your mouth as your repeatedly sank yourself on his cock, trying not to brush your teeth against his length. he was already down your throat and your jaw was tired. up and down, up and down, up and fucking down, “ f-fuck baby...do—don't stop!”

you struggled to breathe but you too were feeling your high being met with nanami's tongue toying with your pussy like that. “ cum all over my face princess, i don't care.” he sighs, rolling his eyes back.

“ wet me with your juices, spray it on me like the slut you are baby.”

you felt yourself experience your second high, eyelids beginning to falter and you let out your final breaths before slumping on his dick, hot liquid invading the insides of your cheeks as you swallow his load clean.

did you pass out? your eyes fluttered open, nanami's dick was beside your head, still hard but you were sitting on his face as he gave you kitten licks.

“ you're finally awake?” he smiles, you pulled away from his face realizing what you've done. “ s—sorry— i—” he laughs, holding both your hands as you faces him, straddling his waist.

“ i'm fine darling, with that stunt you pulled off earlier, i didn't think i'd last longer.”

“ oh..” you glance behind you, his plump dick tapping on your ass. “ you're still hard?”

he hums, a hand running across your back and onto your ass, lifting it up before spanking it softly. “ let me help..” nanami grinned, pinching your nose, cupping your face then planting a soft kiss. “ of course baby.”

your boyfriend swiftly rose up from his position and slithered his arms around your back and on the back of your knees. he carried you to the head of the bed where all the pillows were.

“ nanami...” he flashes you his soft eyes, making his way between your legs with his erection twitching at the sight of your body. he finally closed the gap against the two of you, the back of his dick tapping onto your clit.

he gently smiles, “ i'll be gentle for tonight.”

you knew he was but when he gets drunk on your pussy he could get rougher and rougher by the second. this was a disaster waiting to happen, and you knew what you had gotten yourself into...

a long night of fucking with nanami would last hours, even days.

[sonicblueartist]

HERE YOU GUYS CAN HAVE THIS 200 FOLLOWERS SPECIAL LIKE I PROMISED! It’s too short for my liking but yeahhh… And I may not have finished the ending. I leave it to you my dear readers how it ends~

A/N: You can think of this as an AU, not from the series.

Pairs: (I never mentioned much but you can think this story as) Bullfrog x Reader x Ramon

1K words

I’m not giving you guys any summery but warnings instead to make it a bit more mysterious here: Huge angst, blood, dead bodies, death, description of dying, etc.

Taglist: @blorbostation @eateableworm

Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?

You had cleared out everyone in this section of the secret unit, a small mistake had gotten you noticed, there was nothing else to do, thankfully you both were successful nevertheless. “I guess we can finally move on, huh?” You panted and sighed in relief. Ramon nodded in agreement, "Let's go get the documents and get the fuck out of here." You laughed tiredly at this, “Yes, I'm dying to get home. This job was one of a hell, the most tiring and annoying thing I've ever participated in. I wonder what Bullfrog is doing on his side?” Your eyes spotted a movement among the bloody bodies, a wounded guard raising his gun and aiming at Ramon about to shoot, your eyes widened in fear, he was supposed to be dead.

You gasped, “Ramon watch out!” Realizing the danger, you acted without thinking and pushed Ramon out of the man’s sight. A huge bullet explosion echoed through the building, you couldn’t make a sound or had any control over your weak limbs, your eyes blurred in pain, it all followed by the sound of your name being shouted and more bullets. You found yourself on the ground, all you knew was that it hurt so much and that you were having trouble breathing. When Ramon turned you towards him you saw the pain in his face. You choked, “R-Ramon—“ you could taste the blood in your mouth.

“It’s okay, It’s okay, I got you. Y-You’ll be fine!” That was a big lie, you could see it in his teary eyes. He saw the hole on your back, the bullet pierced through your back, reached to your lungs and then came out from your chest. He used pressure on your chest and kept repeating the same things, “You’ll be okay. I promise.” Your breathing was quick and sharp, your chest hurted a lot, you weren't able to get enough air into your system. “Ramon—“ You gasped, “I-I don’t want to die.” You choked out, your tears streaming down from your cheeks as you gripped his hand in your panic. Ramon shook his head quickly, “I won’t let you die I promise!” You both knew there wasn’t a way out for you this time. Even knowing this he continues lying for you and you continue believing in him. Your breathing become shallow and it was more and more difficult for you to properly have fresh air, you were suffocating. And when you come to the point of barely breathing, you squeezed his hand with the last strength you had. “Ramon I—“ He stared at you, waiting for a continue, wanting to hear what you need to say but you said nothing else, he saw the last breath leaving your lips, saw the lively glint in your eyes vanishing, felt your hand going limp, you laid motionless on the ground, your blood covering the grounds, your blood on his hands, the metallic smell all around him. He wanted to protest, yell, make chaos out of this unfair station but… he only sat there and stared at his hands, silent tears leaving him.

Bullfrog spun around, restless. He was getting more worried that they were not showing up. This shouldn’t have taken this much of their time… right? He halted to a stop. His lips curving into a smile when he spotted Ramon. He sprinted at him but slowly came down to a stop, his smile quickly vanishing. His eyes quickly searched around, he turned and looked… but there was no trace of you anywhere.

He holds himself back, his hands clenching. He cleared his throat to inform Ramon that he was there. Ramon only stopped, didn’t lift his head, didn’t look at him, didn’t even give him a little glance. This made him panic even more. He tried to calm his restless mind as he opened his mouth, “Ramon… Where…?” He stopped himself when Ramon finally looked at him, he felt something died in his chest when he saw his expression. A choked sob escaped his throat, his hands shaking. He somehow knew it even before he showed up, he was praying to everything that this is just him being just worried.

“Ramon…” He started again, “Where are they?” He whispered, this time trying to be a bit more brave. Ramon shakily stepped back and glanced at where he came from. He didn’t even pick up the documents. It didn’t meant anything anymore. He just left… after killing everyone in it.

Bullfrog glanced at where he was looking at but they were too far away to even see the facility, but he knew what that meant, his eyes widened and without a second thought, he was gone, sprinting towards the same direction he come from. Ramon clenched his hands, looking after him. He didn’t want to go back but he couldn't bear the thought of losing someone again, so he quickly went after him. Nothing left from that place but ruins.

Bullfrog grunted in tears as he lifted a heavy stone and threw it aside, and frantically continued digging through the concrete pieces, his hands bleeding from all that excavation. Ramon didn’t look nor dared to help him out in his desperation. He already knew what was under it. But he was also confused about something, it's been hours since...

“Merde.” He hissed and grabbed the last big piece, using one last force, he lifted it up with a frustrated yell and threw it aside. He found… nothing. Once again, his attems and efforts come out empty. Where are you?

He dropped down on his knees, defeated and exhausted. He didn’t even know if he wanted to see your wrecked self under all the concrete. But he did wish to find you and at least bring you to a place where you could rest in peace. “No… Non, s'il vous plaît, non. Pourquoi ça devait être toi? Tu avais beaucoup à vivre. Nous avions beaucoup de choses à partager. S'il vous plaît, n'y allez pas ! Ne nous quitte pas. S'il vous plaît, ne le faites pas…” He rambled to himself as he slammed his hand on the ground, causing the wound to become even worse but he didn’t care. His shoulders shook as he sobbed silently.

“Where are you?” Ramon mumbled. He wasn’t sure anymore. The only thing he thought was certain was your death.

[yeetus-feetus]

de-aging au

Duke is a much smaller Duke one day, he's lost all his memories beyond the young age he is now and he's scared and confused. He doesn't know where is. But then there's Tim, his Robin! And suddenly everything is

The bats have no idea what's going on, but Duke refuses to go to anyone but Tim. He's also a little ball of energy bouncing off all the walls, and Tim is SO tired. "Robin- Tim, come play tag with me!"

One night Tim ends up passing out at his desk, a sleeping Duke cuddling into him on his lap.

Except when Duke wakes up Tim is small too. And he doesn't remember who Duke is!!

So Duke reintroduces himself and Tim let's himself be dragged downstairs to the actually Batcave!

Bruce is looking at them in absolute astonishment, they're so small!!

Damian laughs at Tim's smallness and Tim gives a cold glare. Maybe age can't change some things.

"where are Nightwing and the new Robin?" Tim asks.

"I'm Robin."

"no, I meant Jason!" Tim huffs and crosses his arms. Ah, he's so young he still believes Jay is Robin.

Duke is still clinging to him, but Tim can't bring himself to mind all too much.

Bruce doesn't know how to handle these boys, between a hyperactive Duke and an absolute menace Tim.

Dick tries to help, but even he can't keep up with the mischief and shenanigans they get up to together.

"dick pick us up!"

"yeah! Pick us up pick us up! And swing us around until we get dizzy!"

"again!"

"again!"

It's time to bring out the big guns, and by that they mean calling Jason over to the manor.

Tim settles immediately, but Duke remains overly weary around the large man with guns strapped to his thighs. He's kinda scary.

But Tim likes Jason well enough. At some point he ends up cuddled up with Jason who's stretched out on the couch, and Duke is just a little bit jealous.

"hey stop hogging him! Tim is mine," Duke pouts.

Jason raises an eyebrow at the boy, and Tim tilts his head. "You know there's enough room for both of us up here, right? Jason is a lot bigger than he used to be."

Duke considers this. "Mm okay, but only because you're up there". And he climbs up into Jason's lap to cuddle into Tim's side.

It's calm for a moment, until Duke starts to fidget, not able to stay still for too long. Jason let's put an annoyed noise and looks at them over the top of his book. "Would you quit it I'm tryna read here".

"what are you reading?" Duke asks.

"Macbeth."

Tim scrunched his nose up. "Why are you reading that?"

"I like it. Reminds me of school", and Tim catches something in his tone that Duke absolutely doesn't.

"it sounds silly. Will you red it to us?"

Jason looks at the both of them for a very long moment before signing. "Sure, but you've gotta stay still, your knees are already in my ribs."

The three of them all end up falling asleep like that, tucked into the lounge and curled up together.

Except when they wake up in the morning, Jason is scrawny little boy, even smaller than Tim and Duke.

Tim explains what he can to the tiny Jason as Duke sneaks some snacks from the kitchen cupboard for them.

Cass catches them stuffing their faces with junk food and squeals. "Three baby brother's now!" And scoops them all up as the quick and try to squirm away.

"gotta tell B"

"wait who are you exactly?" Jason asks.

"big sister", Cass smiles and pets his curls.

"no way! Really? I've never had a big sister before", he exclaims.

Cass carries all three of them down to the Batcave because she's so strong and cool! And Jason can't believe he ends up with such a cool sister.

"Batman!!!" Jason shouts in pure excitement, and Bruce turns around and almost cries.

Because look how small!! Oh baby Jay lad!! So precious and smol!

"I think the de-aging syndrome may be contagious", Tim speaks up. "You should have us all properly quarantined until you can find a cure."

quarantine is fun, for Jason and Tim at least (tiny Tim is plotting revenge on whoever caused this, Jason is reading and occasionally shouting at the characters). Duke can't stand having to stay still in the same one room for so long.

idk where this is going, but consider this awesome 3am idea of mine