#Kind of writing.. kind of a drabble. Whatever idk

[milkman-zahhak]

^^^

(full quality image: here )

Okay I didn't actually make it a comic, because I'm getting tired of working on this. It's been 3 months of nothing but this fucking drawing, so this is what you're getting.

The dialogue that would have went with it is in the original post if you're curious, hehe.

[100vern]

hi. i would like to request seungcheol (obviously). all i request is enemies-to-lovers. you may do with this what you wish. i leave it up to you to decide exactly how you will ruin my life 😌

tysm for the request my beloved !! he is so enemies to lovers coded i had TEWWW many thoughts (and started three separate wips oops), but here we are. i hope u enjoy this !! can't wait to get the collab fics out of the way so i can torture u further with baseball dk. i picked dodgers hat!cheol just for u. ♡

— we need to talk

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader summary: sometimes the only way to win the game is to not play, but sometimes it's not a game at all—sometimes it's four years of emotional build-up with nowhere left to hide. genre: enemies (kinda) w benefits to lovers; frat/university au; smut, angst?, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact with this or any of my work. warnings: frat boys. gendered language and insults. swearing. mentions of drugs & drug use (vernon is literally a drug dealer 🤷🏻‍♀️) as well as alcohol. possessive, jealous seungcheol who is extremely down bad and kind of an asshole and would be toxic af irl but is fine in fanfiction probably. this is maybe more "people who used to fuck and started disliking each other along the way bc they can't figure out their feelings" to lovers than enemies. there are very slight, very meaningless mingyu x reader undertones here. jeonghan is a bastard. feelings you think are unrequited but alas! this got softer than i intended oops. smut warnings: seungcheol truly is a man driven to the brink of madness bc of pussy idk what to say. kissing. hair pulling. mentions of masturbation. the dynamics shift in this one a lot, but to be overly cautious i will say dom!cheol and slightly dom!reader undertones that are not implicitly stated or defined. seungcheol uses the term "whore" once, sorry. oral sex (f. receiving). pussy slapping. unprotected sex. if i missed any pls lmk. wordcount: 8k. no i do not know what a drabble is, leave me alone. author's note: title from the song of the same name by waterparks but this was actually brought to you by "i'll never stop" by nsync bc it's their best song and fit the vibes perfectly. anyway, i still do not love writing smut but i am insane over this man so whatever, we persevere. everyone go shower mj in lots of love bc she's the best and deserves it. also everyone say thank u @the-boy-meets-evil for looking over this for me. i did not look at this again after she beta'd it so any mistakes are of my own stupidity. <3

Seungcheol is incensed.

What in the fuck are you thinking, showing up here? Ignoring him, walking by him with nothing more than a brush to the elbow and that sultry, electric gaze? A pair of painted-on jeans and a sheer top?

Who the fuck had invited you?

He looks around the room, gaze heavy under his furrowed brow. Bass thumps in his ears, the music so loud he can feel it in his chest. Still, his feet stay planted on the floor, already sticky with spilled alcohol and god knows what else. He needs to find Vernon—just needs something to get through this very unexpected (and very unpleasant) surprise, take the edge off.

But he can’t see through the sea of people. They’re everywhere, occupying every inch of available space in the house, but he just needs a glimpse of that mop of cornflower blue hair. If he could just—

Instead, he sees a streak of white-blond in his peripheral vision. “Soonyoung!” he calls, grabbing the man by the arm. “Hey, have you seen Vernon?”

Soonyoung stares up at him with glassy, bloodshot eyes, his breath already stinking of alcohol as he shrugs and says, “Dunno, hyung. Think he’s upstairs.”

Fingers still wrapped around his bicep, Seungcheol heaves a sigh. “Go find Jeonghan. He’s on babysitting duty and you’re already fucked.”

“I’m fine,” Soonyoung argues, slurred words giving him away immediately.

Seungcheol scoffs. “Bro, you can barely stand and you reek of shitty vodka. Go drink some water.”

As he sends Soonyoung away, he can feel eyes boring into him, tension wound tight in the center of his back that refuses to dissipate no matter how many times he rolls his shoulders. He turns slowly, already knowing exactly what he’ll find, but knowing does little to stop the hitch of breath as he takes you in.

And he hates it. Fuck, he hates the effect you have on him more than anything.

Hates that he’s still pining after you. Hates that all you have to do is look at him and he’s putty in your hands. Hates that you’re the first person he looks for in a room, the last person on his mind before he falls asleep. Hates you, hates that all of this is unreciprocated, because if Choi Seungcheol is anything, it’s proud. He’s rich, he’s good-looking, he’s pre-law, and the president of this fraternity, for fuck’s sake—he should not be hung up on a girl.

But he’d been doomed from the beginning. Ever since you’d been assigned to him as a challenge to overcome, an impossible task to conquer, he’d been helplessly, pathetically smitten with you.

And fuck if you didn’t know it, too.

So, it’s a game now. A lifetime’s worth of pining for Seungcheol all because his frat was misogynistic and refused to keep up with the times. They’d nodded in your direction and laughed at the confusion on his face, the knot between his brows. Seungcheol couldn’t figure out why his initiation was to fuck a girl, one his brothers wouldn’t even address by name, but when he’d approached you at a party and you’d immediately told him to go fuck himself, he’d figured it out pretty quick.

Call it determination, call it a stubborn streak that refused to quit, but the two of you soon came to a reluctant agreement: you would let Seungcheol lie to his frat, figuring he was attractive enough that people thinking you’d slept together wouldn’t be complete social suicide, and he’d owe you a favor you’d keep in your back pocket for as long as it took to cash in.

Which hadn’t taken long. The stress of finals that first year had gotten to all of you, and it wasn’t long before you were at his door looking for his drug-dealing roommate and a quick fuck.

That was the second time Seungcheol had been doomed to hopeless pining, because once he had you, he knew it’d be impossible to let you go.

Short of outright saying the words, he’d all but told you as much during some alcohol-induced brain shortage junior year. And, in turn, you’d all but laughed in his face.

Right.

Of course.

That was to be expected.

So, you’d continued your… well, whatever this is: quick fucks when both of you were bored or lonely or horny, usually under the influence of something illegal; a mutually tense but beneficial relationship for each of you, because you had been Seungcheol’s initiation and the initiation itself awarded him connections and opportunities. You got a back-up plan. A safe body and warm bed to retreat to when the need arose—one who clearly wanted it to be something more, but was, all things considered, fine with the current arrangement. Didn’t pressure you.

But, as was also to be expected, it was never going to be that simple when feelings got involved. When he started feeling slighted. When he wanted you so bad he ached with it sometimes and it was beneath you to care. Which is why he really, really needs to find Vernon. If he’s going to endure an entire party with you, he’s not going to do it sober.

He takes the steps two at a time, feet stumbling onto the landing as soon as he reaches it. Vernon’s door is the third on the left, and he can hear a separate, distinct bass line from the one booming downstairs that hums louder the closer he gets.

And Vernon knows. Of course he does, because he’s yanking his door open before Seungcheol has even raised a hand to knock, the stench of weed seeping out into the hallway, and all he needs is a quick look at Seungcheol before he pulls the door open wider and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States of America,” as if he’s speaking into a microphone. When Seungcheol doesn’t react, he awkwardly tacks on, “Hi, hyung. I’m assuming she’s here.”

Seungcheol nods, dumbly, and stands as awkwardly in the center of the room as someone who’s about to ask their roommate for drugs tends to be. “Yeah.” Shoves his hands in the pockets of his overpriced jeans so Vernon can’t see the sheen of sweat.

“You looking for somethin’ specific?” he asks, rifling through the top drawer of a tall dresser. “Like, is this an I’m about to fuck her the rest of the night visit or an I need something to help me forget she doesn’t actually like me visit?”

The words come like a reflex. “Fuck you,” he seethes. Vernon’s not wrong, per se, but he didn’t have to go and just… say it like that.

Vernon just shrugs, one side of his worn-out collar slipping down his shoulder as he does so, and Seungcheol can’t tell if he’s actually dressed for the party or not. “Gonna guess it’s the second one, then.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “Well, it’s not,” he insists, knowing damn well he should let it go, that he’s just digging himself a bigger hole, but the truth sits in the pit of his stomach like lead.

And, really, he knows he just needs to accept it. That little strand of hope hasn’t brought him anything but more pain—allowed him to delude himself into thinking it could be something more, something tangible—and it’s time to let it go.

You don’t want more.

You don’t want the label and the relationship.

You don’t want him.

He knows this, but it still tastes sour in his mouth. Still tastes like the chill of autumn when you’d first showed up at his door all that time ago. Tastes like all the blunts you’ve shared and the liquor from all the parties you’d snuck away in the middle of. Tastes like the sharp notes of your perfume, the ones that’d coat his tongue when he’d kiss down your neck—the same notes that stain his bedsheets.

Mostly, it’s the pitying look Vernon’s giving him that hurts the most. He’s above pity. Doesn’t need it, especially not from Vernon Chwe, but it hurts all the same to be on the receiving end of it.

“Give me whatever you’ve got.”

Vernon’s face quickly morphs into surprised concern. “Uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I mean, I’ve got some pretty heavy shit here.”

Heat flares in his belly. The pity was bad enough—now he wants to be patronizing? “Then give me whatever the fuck you think I need,” he snaps. “I don’t care. I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Well, you definitely need to chill,” Vernon mumbles. “You want some dabs?”

“No. Something…” The word feels thick in his mouth. Stronger implies that Seungcheol does heavy drugs, and that’s not true. “Else,” he finally finishes.

Vernon sighs as he continues rifling through the drawer. “Your dad would fucking kill me if I gave you my real heavy shit, so…” He pauses, eyebrows raising in triumph as he finds what he was looking for: a small baggie filled halfway with some nondescript powder. “You want a bump?”

Maybe he should be ashamed at how quickly he agrees, at the urgency and greed with which he grabs the baggie from Vernon’s fingers, but he just needs something. Needs the distraction, the brain fog. He shoves it in his back pocket next to his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

Vernon wrinkles his nose. “Nah. Consider that one a freebie. No offense, but you’re a real piece of shit when you’re like this.”

The implication only pisses him off more. Seungcheol is loaded—he can afford to pay his drug dealer, thank you very much—but he’s not like anything. “I’m sorry?”

True to his nature, Vernon barely shrugs. “I’ll put it on your tab, hyung,” he says in a way that implies he’s not at all going to do that and is only saying so to get the fraternity president off his back.

Jeonghan (23:12) Better come get your girl. Kim Mingyu’s dick looks like it’s halfway up her ass by now. Jeonghan (23:12) Uh oh! I think I just saw a testicle

Seungcheol stares down at his phone, hands trembling in anger. Of course it’s Mingyu. That pathetic loser has been taking up residence on the subs bench ever since you’d made out with him months ago in an admittedly successful attempt at payback. Seungcheol had hooked up with some downgrade at a party one time and you’d gone and made out with his friend. It was hardly a fair trade.

Seungcheol (23:14) Good for Mingyu, he can deal with her then Seungcheol (23:14) I’m busy Jeonghan (23:14) Doing what? Jerking off in the upstairs bathroom again? Jeonghan (23:15) Do you know what size condom he wears btw? Looks like I might need to fetch him one if you don’t want to take care of another man’s baby Jeonghan (23:16) Although, to be fair, you might want to sit this one out. He has way better bone structure than you. Might be a blessing in disguise Seungcheol (23:16) Fuck you Jeonghan (23:16) Better be nice to me, Choi Seungcheolie~ that might be the only fuck you get tonight

Seungcheol needs better friends. He needs a lot of things, really, but number one on his to-do list is to never let Jeonghan be on babysitting duty ever again. Somehow he’d forgotten how obnoxious Yoon Jeonghan is when he isn’t stoned and half-asleep on a couch somewhere.

For now, he just stomps down the hallway; locks himself in his room and doesn’t bother to turn on the light. He’s not going to be here long. Just enough time to do this line, change his t-shirt, and come up with a game plan, because he’s not going to let Mingyu even entertain the thought of being able to have you but he also can’t appear desperate. Not just to you, but to everyone else. Choi Seungcheol is not clingy, especially not over a girl.

Especially especially over a girl who doesn’t even want him like that.

But the longer he sits in the dark, the more trouble he has finding his resolve. Can’t bring himself to dig that baggie out of his pocket. Can’t drag his t-shirt over his head. Can’t bring himself to think about anything other than Mingyu’s hands all over you, and fuck, does that image drive him insane.

Does he touch you like Seungcheol does?

Does he coax those same jagged whimpers from your mouth like Seungcheol does?

Does his semi-hard cock feel as good pressed against you?

God, he’s so fucked. Utterly and completely fucked. And he wonders if this would be as bad if he’d just kept his mouth shut, took that secret to his grave instead of fooling himself into thinking it could be more. If it wouldn’t have devolved into… this. You’d always told him not to get attached, that sex was just sex and there was no need to ruin a good thing. But Seungcheol is a selfish man, always has been, and what if? is a dangerous question.

Jeonghan (23:36) Wow, you’re a fucking pussy. Stop hiding in your room like a little bitch. Seungcheol (23:36) Fuck off

He can’t go down there. Not because he’s a coward, but because he’s barely tethered to his sanity as it is. Something about you brings him out of his mind, makes him toss whatever good judgment he has left to the wind. Seungcheol is far too impulsive when it comes to you, reckless in ways that have all twenty years of his social training weeping in a corner; have alarm bells ringing in his brain. So, no, he can’t go downstairs right now because he knows he’ll do something stupid. Stick not only his foot but his entire lower body in it. He should’ve listened, yet here he is, dick pulled halfway out of his jeans because the thought of you alone gets him hard but his pride won’t let him jerk off to the image of anyone touching you that’s not him.

Forget whatever Jeonghan had called him. He’s a fucking fool. A moonstruck, delusional fool who’d tricked himself into thinking he could swim when he can barely tread water.

You (23:41) Something wrong?

Oh, here we fucking go, he thinks. Because this is Seungcheol’s game—one he’d perfected years ago, the one where he’s coy and chilly, never too eager, never committed. Just a little bit of a tease. Barely enough to keep them on the hook, a little needy; still enough to keep them coming back. But you’d taken one look at him all those years ago and had him pegged immediately. Figured out his game and learned the rules, used them against him. Now you watch him flounder with a smile on your face.

Seungcheol (23:42) Never knew you were so needy baby. First you show up uninvited and now youre missing me?

But just because there’s now a player two doesn’t mean he’s doomed to lose. He knows how you look when you’re on your knees for him. Knows how you sound when you’re begging to cum and stuttering out his name like you’re singing hymns. Knows how you look with your eyes rolled back after he’s fucked you dumb. Kim Mingyu doesn’t know shit.

Seungcheol knows he’s the only one fortunate enough to experience you like this.

And god does it kill him.

You (23:44) Don’t act stupid

A pleased exhale of laughter, an equally-smug smirk. Yeah, this is still Seungcheol’s game, the crown still sitting atop his head. You can let Mingyu grind his dick against you all you want, but Seungcheol is still the one you’re seeking out, pouting at the fact he hasn’t come to find you yet.

You (23:44) Mingyu invited me

Oh, you’re good—know just which buttons to press and how much pressure to use. Whatever smug expression Seungcheol had been wearing slides off his face immediately, tongue pressing into his cheek.

Seungcheol (23:46) And yet youre looking for me? You (23:47) Don’t have to look for you to know you’re upstairs sulking in your room because Jeonghan tattled on me like a fucking five year old Seungcheol (23:49) Maybe you should come up here then Seungcheol (23:49) Away from prying eyes

You don’t reply immediately. It’s just long enough for Seungcheol’s brain to conjure up something indecent—the way you’ll straddle him, the way his cock will feel pressed against the apex of your thighs; the goosebumps that’ll raise on his arms when you work your tongue along his neck, that spot near his collarbone you know he likes. His cock throbs against the confines of his jeans when he thinks about the devastated look on Mingyu’s face when you make up some excuse to get away from him, to traipse up the stairs and fall into Seungcheol’s bed, when he realizes he’s not going to have you.

You (23:56) It’d be pretty rude to leave my date, don’t you think? You (23:57) If you want me so bad, come down here and get me yourself

Seungcheol doesn’t play games; doesn’t compete because he has no competition. He’s always been given whatever he wants on a silver platter, no questions asked, so he’s wholly unprepared for this turn of events. What he knows he should do (respond to your text and tell you to fuck off, that you know where he is should you stop being a brat and change your mind) is not what he does (tucks his dick back in his jeans, finally throws on a clean t-shirt, and takes his time descending the stairs so he doesn’t look too eager), because logical thought gets tossed out the window entirely wherever you’re concerned.

“Ah, if it isn’t our resident pissbaby making his grand re-entrance.”

Seungcheol clenches his jaw for the nth time and glares. “Fuck off, Jeonghan.”

The man in question laughs—the annoying raspy one that grates on Seungcheol’s nerves—and hands over a cup of something brown and pungent. “Well, judging from your attitude, and the fact you’re barely hiding that boner you’ve got, you clearly didn’t spend your time away jerking off. What finally got you down here, the promise of cheap whiskey I nicked off some freshman or the fact that your girlfriend’s about two seconds from getting a public indecency charge courtesy of Kim Mingyu?”

Well. Jeonghan may be an asshole but he’s not wrong. Even through the crowd of people and the haze of whatever’s in his cup and a contact high, Seungcheol spots you immediately. Your back is pressed against Mingyu’s chest, his fingers gripping tight at your waist as you roll your hips in time with his. Whatever manufactured filth he’s whispering to you draws a smile, causes you to reach up and tug sharply at his hair. Fuck, Seungcheol can almost hear Mingyu’s moan from across the room, and his blood quickly heats to a rapid boil.

Another chuckle from the demon beside him. “Stop fucking laughing,” Seungcheol snaps, still unable to take his eyes off of you. “Fuck this. I’m going back upstairs. Make sure everyone’s out of here by three. I’m not paying for another noise citation.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “I’m absolutely not going to do that.” He shoves a bottle of something in Seungcheol’s hand. “Take this and think of me when you’re crying yourself to sleep because Mingyu stole guaranteed pussy right out of your hands.”

“Why do you do this?” Seungcheol asks, shoving at Jeonghan’s shoulder roughly. “You never know when to fucking quit.”

Another streak of white-blond. “Hey, no fighting!” Soonyoung slurs, trying his best to push Seungcheol to the other side of the kitchen with his useless, limp arms.

This attracts the attention of Joshua, who struts into the room looking straight out of Fashion Week, much like he always does. He hasn’t even broken a sweat. “Aw, are Mom and Dad fighting again?” he asks, his lips tugged into a smirk. He ignores Seungcheol’s scowl as he fixes himself a drink. “You know Mingyu only does it to get a reaction out of you,” Joshua adds, quieter this time, as if he’s telling Seungcheol a secret only meant for the two of them to share.

“What’s her excuse, then?” Seungcheol fires back, because even if he doesn’t like it, Joshua’s right. This is exactly the kind of behavior he’d expect from resident campus whore Kim Mingyu, but he never expected you to go along with it.

Joshua cocks an eyebrow. “She doesn’t need an excuse, Cheol. She’s not your girl.”

Even though it’s a truth he already knows, it somehow hurts worse being spoken in plaintext, a hushed conversation in a crowded kitchen. Being let down gently. Seungcheol knows he needs to make a decision. He needs to let you go and start moving on with his life; can’t be having these quasi-meltdowns during frat parties anymore. Can’t be possessive and spiteful. You don’t want him. Everyone knows you don’t want him, so that’s all there is to it. Maybe you’ll want Mingyu and he can finally wash his hands of this forever, scrape the jealousy off his tongue.

He steels himself. Rolls his shoulders back, cracks his neck. Navigates the crowd in the living room until he reaches you and your so-called date. Grabs you by the elbow—gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt but firm enough to send a message—and says the two of you need to talk. Upstairs. Now. Mingyu just smiles like he knew this was coming and presses a pointless, wasted kiss just below your ear. Seungcheol tells him to fuck off, too, and Mingyu grins wider, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

As he guides you to his room, he doesn’t think about the way your hand fits in his. Doesn’t think about how this is going to be the last time he has you. Doesn’t think about who’ll have you after. Doesn’t bother to wonder if you’ve finally changed your mind like he had all those other times he’d walked this same familiar path with you in tow. Because it’s the last time. Whatever happens once it’s over is out of his control.

Perhaps that’s what it’d always been about. Seungcheol has always been spoiled and selfish and so terribly, terribly desperate to prove he’s more than his family name and family money. So, yeah, he’d wanted the control; wanted what was never his for the taking. You’d always been the opposite—his perfect little counterpart. Always so pliant and careless and free: everything Seungcheol tried so hard to be but couldn’t, and that’s where the switch flipped.

Someone like you isn’t meant to be controlled.

What he used to want so badly now tastes rancid in his mouth.

The door locks behind you. Seungcheol doesn’t meet your eye as he says, “You got what you wanted. Are you done being a fucking brat?” It’s not a tone he usually takes. Usually he’s dirty, a little possessive, willing to let you set the pace. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches. “I asked you a question.”

“Seungcheol—”

He clicks his tongue, stalks closer until you’re nearly in his grasp. Your eyes close instinctively as if you’re expecting his mouth on yours. Instead, he threads his long fingers in your hair and pulls. “What’s so hard about answering a simple yes or no question? Did you really want Mingyu’s dick so bad you’ve gone dumb all of a sudden?”

You gasp. “No.”

“No what?” Seungcheol chides. “No, you’re not done being a brat? Or no, you weren’t just downstairs acting desperate and pathetic for mediocre cock?” He runs his thumb across the seam of your lips, follows their movements as you speak.

“I wasn’t—”

A low, mocking chuckle. “You were, baby.” Sounds condescending; speaks to you like you’re a stupid child. He’s so close to you now. Can smell the tang of your skin, the sticky notes of your perfume. Feels your breath fan against his own sweat-slick skin. Still avoids your gaze, because as domineering as he appears, he knows he can unravel just as quickly. “Take your clothes off. This is the last time I’m gonna fuck you and I’m not going to ask twice.”

Now you truly look caught off-guard. “What?” Still he ignores you, expensive silver rings clinking into a dish on his dresser one by one, expensive watch following. “What do you mean the last time?”

Deft fingers play at the buttons on his shirt. Not silk, but just as expensive. “Shit. You’re really testing my patience, you know.” You’re still standing at the edge of his bed, staring dumbly as if he’s just going to start spilling all his secrets, give you some kind of explanation. “I believe I told you to strip.”

Unlike Seungcheol, your fingers tremble as they work at buttons and zippers and hemlines, push down denim and remove heels. It’s clear you’re trying to work out what he’s playing at—if this is some punishment for fucking around with Mingyu or if he really means it—but you’re not going to risk asking. Things between the two of you are already tense as it is. Seungcheol has never been wound this tight, never been so ready to snap.

“That’s it,” he praises once you’re left in nothing but a skimpy underwear set you know he likes. “Look at you. Fucking gorgeous. I bet that’s why you think you can get away with embarrassing me, huh?” He grabs your chin, forces you to meet his gaze for the first time since he’d dragged you up here. “Get on your knees. I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”

It’s not an unfamiliar sight—as it is, you usually leave Seungcheol’s room with bruised knees on a good night—but it settles differently in his gut this time. Because he’d dared a glance at you once and knows he can’t do it again, so he watches the top of your head as you fumble with his belt buckle and looks away whenever he thinks you might risk a glance upwards. Finds some point on the wall to focus on. Hisses through his teeth when you pull his cock from his briefs, your hands cold against his flushed skin.

All he wants to do is kiss you. Draw this out. Give you a memorable last time, maybe mark you up a little. He really wants to savor the feeling of your tongue on his cock, but all he can focus on is the fact that he’ll never be enveloped in that wet heat again. He’s never going to feel your mouth working him over, feel you humming around his length because he knows you love the weight of it, you love wrenching away that little bit of control, turning him into a mess.

But he’s not going to dwell. He’s going to thumb at the hinge of your jaw, force it open just wide enough for his cock to fit inside. Then he’s going to fist your hair into a makeshift ponytail, grip it tight, use it to guide your mouth until there’s only an inch of space between you. He’s going to stare down at you, silently revel in how fucked out you look already even though he hasn’t touched you. He’s going to watch the way your fingers dig into your thighs because they can’t touch him. Then he’s going to say—

“Beg me. Beg me to let you suck my cock.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation. Seungcheol doesn’t talk to you like this. This is not the kind of dynamic the two of you have, and Seungcheol finds himself wondering if things would be different if it was. If he’d never started going so easy on you. Would you want him then? Or would you have left a long time ago?

He’s half-expecting you to do that now. You look ready to bolt, to pull your clothes back on and tell him to go fuck himself on the way out. Probably go straight back to Mingyu, let him fuck you hard but routine, the way Seungcheol usually does, the way he knows you like. He expects you to leave, and this is the last time, anyway, so he figures he has nothing left to lose.

“I’m going soft,” he snaps, the admonishment harsh on his tongue. When you look up at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes narrow. “You have one fucking job and you can’t even do that properly? Who’s going to want a dumb little whore that can’t follow simple instructions?”

He watches your eyes squeeze shut involuntarily. Wonders if he’s gone too far before deciding he doesn’t care if he has. It’s the last time, anyway, so it’s not like it matters. Watches the indents in your thighs grow deeper. Watches you inhale and try to steady your breathing.

Watches your eyes snap open, any trace of hesitation long gone. “Did you make that other girl beg for you?”

Seungcheol snorts, amusement showing all over his face. “Is that what this is about? You’re still mad I hooked up with some other girl so you act like this?” He clicks his tongue at you, fists his cock, slicking it up. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” you answer simply, “I’m just trying to figure out why you think you can speak to me however the fuck you want.”

Seungcheol’s hand stutters along his length before it stills, your words sharp and immediate against his skin. He should’ve known. Shouldn’t have thought something like this would work on you, that you’d like it, and he’s halfway to soft and throwing his hands up and tucking his dick back into his briefs when you say, “Answer the question.”

“What?”

You tsk. Move your hands from your thighs to his, nails pressing just deep enough to leave crescent moons behind that match your own. Something for someone else to see. “Did you make her beg for you?”

Seungcheol’s brain power decreases the higher your palms go, when your thumbs press into the dimples of his hips. Can barely choke out a hissed yes, yeah, fu-fuck when your hand covers his, fingers wrapping tightly around his own as you guide it back and forth, up and down the length of his cock. “What did you make her beg for, Cheol?”

“To—to to-touch me.”

You hum. Tighten your grip on Seungcheol’s hand and laugh as his hips roll involuntarily, seeking the friction. “Touch you how? Like this?”

“Yeah—fuck, yes, like this.”

“Did she? Did she listen to you like a good girl?” Your hand leaves Seungcheol’s only to collect the precum at his tip. “Don’t get all shy now, Cheolie.” You suck your thumb into your mouth and he whines. “Was she a good girl for you?”

You sit back on your haunches. Watch him jerk himself off. “Yeah,” he finally says, word cracking in the middle. “Boring, though. Not like—not like you.”

“No one is like me,” you admonish. “I could’ve told you that for free, before you went off and fucked someone else.”

“Not an idiot,” Seungcheol replies, the pace of his hand quickening. He’s playing a dangerous game; approaching the cliff edge at a dangerous pace. “No-nothing comes for free with you.”

All you do is smile, lopsided and smug. “Mm, that’s true. Guess your little dom moment earlier can just be chalked up to momentary stupidity, hm?” Seungcheol wants to nod, wants apologies to tumble from his lips until you shut him up, but his palm is so slick against his dick, fist tight enough to white out his vision. “Did you make her beg to suck your cock?”

Truth be told, Seungcheol can’t remember much of anything right now. He’s perilously close to coming, right at that precipice, and each filthy word that slips from your mouth just pushes him further to the edge. He remembers Chan inviting him to a party. He remembers a few drinks, a few hits from a blunt, compliments of Vernon; he remembers a girl making eyes at him from across the room—eyes that had looked a lot like yours in the haze of his crossfade. He remembers a locked bathroom and the sound of his voice as he told that girl how to touch him so it felt like you. He remembers her doing whatever he told her to, remembers how eager and submissive she was, how she didn’t mouth off to him the way you always do—

Remembers how unsatisfying it’d been when he came.

You’ve ruined him.

Not a revelation. Not even close to one. Seungcheol has known this for a long time, but that doesn’t mean annoyance doesn’t flare in his belly at the reminder. You don’t want him. Being so hung up on you isn’t doing him any favors, just means he’ll have a longer drop when this is all over. God, what the fuck is he doing?

He wants you so badly he’s aflame with it. He wants you so badly he can barely look at you anymore. He wants you so badly it consumes him, drives him insane, has him all fucked up and seething. He wants you, he wants you, he—

Loves.

Reality washes over him like a cold wave. Knocks him backwards, drowning, desperately trying to remember how to breathe. In, out; in, out—and none of it changes a goddamn thing.

Four years of this. Four years of touches exchanged in the dark, behind locked doors. Four years of yearning and trying and failing. Four years of everything getting lost in translation, because it’s hitting him now, but shouldn’t he have felt it before? Shouldn’t all those ‘drive me fuckin’ crazy, can’t fucking stand you’s he spoke into the crook of your neck rang hollow?

“Cheol—” you say, because you asked him something, tried to play along with this whole stupid charade, and he knows he’s frozen, just standing there, hand still wrapped around his cock, and he needs to say something, he needs to fix this—

“I’m a liar,” is what he comes up with. You’re still staring up at him, brows furrowed, pinched in the middle. Move, he wills himself, but nothing happens. “I’m a liar,” he says again, because if he says it enough you’ll believe it. “I’m sorry. I’m—”

“What are you talking about?”

He swallows. I’m in love with you, he wants to say. Feels the weight of the words on his tongue, heavy and pressing, and he thinks you should know. Even if you don’t feel the same, he thinks you deserve to know, but the way you’re looking at him—

He can’t bring himself to say it.

But he can—“Can I show you instead?”

Slowly, you nod. Seungcheol nods, too, still feeling off-kilter as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs in the contours of your cheeks. Moves them down your neck, your shoulders, down the length of your arms. You meet him halfway, twining your fingers together, and he helps you stand, careful and considerate. At full height, he places a hand in the small of your back to tug you closer, kisses you like it’s the end of the world. Whines into your mouth at your familiar taste, and if he lets himself be delusional enough, he can pretend there’s form and substance to those sounds, that their edges are squared-off to form the words he wants to say.

Because it really might be the end of the world. Seungcheol has never known how to play the cards he’s been dealt when it comes to you. Always gets it wrong. Feints one way when he’s meant to go the other, takes the field with two left feet, always playing catch-up. Maybe the mistake was treating it like a game. Maybe the mistake was strategizing, only playing to win, because he lays you gently on his bed, fits his body in the space you create for him between your legs, and realizes he already won a long time ago.

He won the first time your eyes met. He won the first time he’d kissed you, more nerves and teeth than anything else. He won the first time you tucked yourself against his side and stared at his bedroom ceiling, half-smoked joint between your fingers, and made fun of the stupid flag he’d hung up. He won every time you took all the bullshit he threw at you and dished it right back. He won every time he had the privilege of tracing mindless shapes into your soft skin.

Every second of your time you chose to give him—all victories.

He presses in further. Groans when your hands move to his shoulders and grip tight; when your nails dig into the skin of his back. “I’ve been so stupid,” he says, punctuating his words with a nip at your ear. Smirks out of the corner of his mouth at your shuddering breath. “Haven’t I?”

“Yeah,” you answer, rolling your hips upward. He grabs at you desperately, tries to keep you still; hisses when you swat his hands away and redouble your efforts. “You’ve been a fucking asshole for a—for a while.”

You can’t see the way he pouts. Wonders, too, if that would work on you, if it’d earn him one of those rare moments of tenderness. “Well I’m trying to—shit, baby—trying to make it up to you, but you seem pretty determined to make me bust right now.”

He can see the way you roll your eyes. See the way the corners crinkle after as you laugh softly, breathlessly, still trying to chase a high Seungcheol refuses to provide. “You deserve it. You tried to dom me, you dickhead.”

Embarrassment sits obvious on his ruddy cheeks. He hides his face in the crook of your neck so you don’t see it, don’t have something to poke at him with later, but you’re having none of it. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug gently, forceful enough to have him pliable, and there it is: there are stars in your eyes as you stare up at him, tender and soft just like he hoped you’d look, and he misses the feeling of your nails on your scalp until you’re tugging at the delicate chain around his neck and pulling him closer. “Just kiss me and we’ll call it even.”

This is how it feels to get struck by lightning, he thinks. Every part of him is on fire, and he’s content to burn as his lips find yours. He sighs happily into your mouth, hikes your thigh higher around his middle, presses in to lay claim to what little space is left between you. Seungcheol is so close he can feel the rapid pace of your heartbeat, because this is not the way you usually kiss. What used to be dirty and quick, a means to an end, now has intent, purpose. He’s kissing you like he wants to steal the air from your lungs to replace it with something better.

Trails those same kisses down the length of your body. Open-mouthed at your neck, your collarbones, the space between your breasts. Teasing and slow in the space between each rib, just to watch the way your skin pebbles. Hungry and insistent at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, because if he’s feeling this unhinged, he wants you right there with him. Can’t bear the thought of still being in this alone. Not anymore.

“Legs over my shoulders.” You listen immediately, and Seungcheol mutters a quiet fuck at the sight before him. “God, you’re so wet.”

“No shit—”

He swats at your clit, delighting in the way your body jolts. “Hush. The only thing I wanna hear out of your smart mouth from now on is my fucking name.” And then he’s diving in.

He eats you out like a man starved; like he could do this every day for the rest of his life and he still wouldn’t be satisfied. Can’t help but rut against the mattress at the way you taste, the way your thighs tighten around his head, the sting as you pull at his hair. Places both hands beneath your ass to lift and drag you closer to his waiting mouth—licks at you wet and feverish, all of this seemingly more for him than it is for you, and you’ll get tired of it soon, just like you always do. You’ll tell him—

“Do it right, Cheol, please—”

And he’ll pull away and tsk, swat at you again. His responding laugh will be cocky and derisive when your body trembles again, frantic with the need for more. “What did I say, baby? Do you not trust me to make you come?” You cock an eyebrow, torn between throwing some sarcastic remark at him and following the rules long enough to get what you want. His voice grows serious as he presses a soft kiss to your core. “I will always take care of you.”

The rest is muscle memory.

The rest has a chorus of Cheol, Cheol, Seungcheol spilling from your lips as he suctions his own around your clit. The rest has you grinding your pussy against his face. The rest has him groaning at the way he’s so wholly consumed by you: the taste of you on his tongue, face soaked, two fingers pressed deep into your cunt. The rest has him saying that’s it, baby, come on my face, I know you can and feeling delirious when he finally pushes you over the edge; when your walls clench around his fingers, breathing fractured, when you grab at him until you’re eye-level and you’re licking into his mouth to taste yourself.

Tastes a lot like I love you.

“Want you to ride me,” he says, gaze half-lidded and pleading. You whine as he moves his thumb back to your clit, tracing slow, slow, slow circles, oversensitive. “Will you do that for me?”

The party seems so far away. Grows even further away when you nod and straddle his lap. Seungcheol sits up, tells you to wrap your legs around him. Can’t stand not touching you; needs every inch of his skin to be covered by you like a bruise—something deep that’ll last for days, weeks, months. The mottled colors will change, but it’ll still be there.

“Need you, Cheol,” you whisper, kissing his eyelids. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes.

“You have me,” he answers, but it sounds foreign to his ears—sounds wretched, like the words have been punched out of him. It sounds like forfeit. “Always have.”

You pull back. Study his face. Run over his plush bottom lip with your thumb. It feels like an eternity of silence before you speak. “No, I haven’t,” you insist, tone insistent but delicate, like you’re trying to convince him of it, too. “Not like this.”

I love you.

You lift your hips just enough to sink down on his cock. Seungcheol’s moan is loud and unabashed, not afraid to let anyone hear the way you make him feel. All he can think is familiar: he knows your blinding white heat; has made countless homes in your tight grip he still holds the keys to; has done this so many goddamn times it’s second nature.

He was an absolute fool to think he could ever walk away.

You roll your hips, taking him deeper like you’ve got something to prove, body moving on its own sinuous accord. Seungcheol loves you like this, when you know exactly what you want and aren’t afraid to take it. When you press sloppy kisses to his neck, the column of his throat. When he grabs at your hips, tries to move you faster along the length of his cock, and you swat his hands away. When your rhythmic up-and-down turns into a slow grind that has you gasping and breathless, pussy spasming around him.

“Goddamn, I love this pussy,” he chokes out, fingers gripping tightly at the sheets since he can’t touch you. He’s mindless with pleasure, feels himself start babbling nonsense he can’t make sense of, and it’s overwhelming, having you like this. Isn’t sure how he’s survived this long, but maybe you were right.

Maybe it was never like this before.

Usually he’d take you from behind, quick and dirty, hands digging into the meat of your ass, palm cracking down on it every now and then, imparting white heat of his own. Usually he’d have you beneath him, knees pressed to your chest, all condescension as you told him, eyes rolled back, that he was too deep, that you couldn’t take it, and he’d rub at your clit and tell you you could as he dragged another orgasm out of you. Usually he’d be so frenzied and worked up he’d take you against the door, sweats pushed to mid-thigh, forearms straining as they held you up.

So, yeah—this is different. This is a patient, sensual dance to the finish line. This is Seungcheol in his rawest form: a live wire, vulnerable, anxious. This is the unknown, because something has to come after but he doesn’t know what it is.

This is Seungcheol throwing caution to the wind, leaning in close enough to taste the salt on your skin, and saying, “I love you.”

This is Seungcheol planting his feet and fucking up into you, unwilling to hear your response. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, but sometimes bliss is just bliss, and he’ll willingly take either.

This is you coming undone on his cock, breathing rapid and ragged, pupils blown wide as you stare at him in awe.

“Say it again.”

Someone slams into the wall just outside Seungcheol’s door, and all at once the real world creeps back in: the thrumming bass line of the music downstairs; laughter, shouting, and yelling; fists banging on shut doors—but he hears you loud and clear. Presses each word into your mouth this time and groans when you swallow them. Barely makes a sound as he spills inside of you, feeling like every nerve in his body is aflame.

The two of you are quiet for a time as you try to catch your breath. Seungcheol only moves to grab his duvet and wrap it around your shoulders, smiling fondly at the small thank you you mumble, seemingly still bogged down, well-fucked.

He presses a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Okay?”

You nod, push at him until he lays back and pulls you with him, lets you use his firm chest as a pillow. That flag you’d made fun of before isn’t up there anymore, but Seungcheol feels warm at the memory anyway, almost laughs at the comment he imagines you’d make.

Clears his throat. Tries to find his courage. “I really am sorry,” he tells you again, because it doesn’t matter if he loves you if he doesn’t know how to be good at it.

“I know, Cheol,” comes your easy reply. You’re tracing shapes on his stomach that have his muscles contracting. “I know you love me, too.” You sigh, press your lips to his rib cage. “Who knew it’d only take making out with Mingyu to get you to admit it.”

A wild laugh tumbles out of him. “Fuck off.” He can feel your grin.

“You got a fucked up way of showing it, though.”

He hums, holds onto you a little tighter. “Go easy on me, I only figured it out about an hour ago.”

“An hour?” you faux-gasp, make like you’re about to leave. “I’m outta here. I know my worth. If I’m going to say it back to someone, they need to be in love with me for at least two.”

He chokes at the implication, heart threatening to beat right out of his chest and into yours. He knows he looks exactly like the moonstruck, loved-up loser he is, and he coughs to cover it. “That’s what I said,” he lies. “Two hours. You must’ve heard it wrong.”

No, it was never like this.

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Rocking Chair - A Joel Miller Drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader Rating: E, unprotected p in v, slightest of breeding kinks?, idk y'all I just went feral here. Word Count: 2156 a/n: Happy TLOU Sunday! I genuinely blacked out while writing half of this in some kind of NyQuil induced haze! Enjoy!

Something is bothering him.

You clocked it the second you walked over the threshold of his brother's home. Actually, you knew something was up long before that, when he kept trying to make excuses as to why you and Ellie should go and he should stay home, despite the fact that it was his brother. Eventually, you convinced him to follow you down the street, Ellie chattering excitedly about the prospect of having a baby in the family while Joel dragged his feet.

His mood only worsened as the evening went on, following the trend of distance he'd been following since the baby arrived, a pattern that made you uneasy. Tonight, it was difficult to tell if it was the result of the mirage of questioning from the handful of close friends Tommy and Maria had invited over to meet their new son or because of whatever was lurking in the depths of his mind, but you kept trying to pinpoint it. You could only assume that it was some combination of both, a hypothesis only strengthened by the look of disappointment in the younger Miller brother's eyes when his sibling politely declined the opportunity to hold his nephew.

You're next to Ellie on the couch, the newest resident of Jackson tucked into your arms, when you meet his eyes from across the room for what feels like the thousandth time since you arrived. He's leaning against the door to the kitchen and you can see the discomfort in his posture and the way his shoulders tense further as yet another person approaches to congratulate him as though he was the new father and not his brother.

"Can I hold him?" Ellie asks suddenly, pulling your attention back to your side of the room. You turn to find her bright eyes looking down at the sleeping child, and it's impossible to stop the spread of warmth through your chest at the teen's eagerness. After a quick glance at Maria for permission, you gently pass the bundle over to Ellie, showing her how to properly cradle his head.

Joel's still watching when you turn back to the kitchen, his gaze securely set on the way Ellie is beaming as she holds the newborn. There's something hovering beneath the surface of his dark gaze, the root of whatever has truly been bothering him, and you feel certain you've almost worked it out when Ellie elbows you.

"He's waking up! What do I do?!"

"Just keep holding him, it'll be okay," you reassure her, although when the crying starts a moment later you can't help but join in the laughter filling the room as Ellie quickly hands the baby back to his mother. She breathes a sigh of relief and flops back on the couch the second he's out of her arms, and you give her a pat on the shoulder before you naturally seek out Joel once more, only to find him gone.

You don't see him again until the gathering winds down. He's eager to get home, and soon he's resuming his vigil of silence on the walk back down the street. He's behind you, always behind you, his shoulders still set in the same rigid formation they've been in all night, and you walk a few feet ahead with Ellie, doing your best to answer her questions about when the baby will start talking or walking and whether you think he'll look more like Tommy or Maria when he gets older.

The delicate balance that has been hanging between the three of you all evening holds steady until you're back through your own door, when three sets of eyes land on the rocking chair that still sits nearby, the silence soon enveloping you all.

"I thought you were going to bring that for Tommy and Maria?" Ellie asks, breaking the tension in a way that has you wincing, even if she's right. The chair still smells of fresh lumber, the smooth edges molded by Joel's hands in the late hours of the night when he couldn't sleep, and it's still sitting in your living room.

"Didn't he want it?" she continues, earning her an elbow to the ribs courtesy of your right arm. Joel grumbles something behind you as Ellie winces, and you're already silently begging her not to push it further. She must catch the look you give her because a moment later she's heading upstairs with a heavy sigh, the door of her room closing with a soft click.

"Wanna tell me what's going on?" you inquire firmly once you're alone, arms crossing over your chest as you watch Joel move into the kitchen.

He dismisses you with a shake of his head and a muttered "nothin's wrong," but the way he stands, unmoving as he stares at the sparse contents of the fridge, tells you otherwise.

"No, something is bothering you, so do you wanna start with why you've been distant all week or would you rather discuss the way you tried to stay as far away as possible from your new nephew tonight?"

It's easy to see the way he tenses when you finish your questioning. You've known him long enough to recognize the subtle straightening of his spine whenever you hit a little too close to the mark and the way he avoids eye contact when he turns back in your direction, a signal that you have indeed gotten under his skin. It's in the familiar quiet that descends upon the kitchen as you wait for him to speak.

Only, unlike the clockwork routine you expect to follow, the one that usually has him letting down a few of his walls for you and you alone, you instead find yourself hauled against his body like a man possessed. When his grasp trails to your thighs, it's mostly instinct that has you jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist in a practiced motion.

He's pinning you against the counter within seconds.

"Joel," you mumble, trying to sound stern even as his lips trail along your jawline, down your neck, and across the expanse of your chest, trailing lower until he's found where you're wet and wanting. You try to get him to look at you, hands raking through the hair he's refused to cut as of late, hopeful that his gaze will tell you something about the way you can feel him avoiding whatever it is that's on his mind. A hint as to why he's using you to forget instead of working through the emotions that are obviously controlling his every move.

But when your eyes meet his again, you only see the feral haze of lust, and you can do nothing but give in when he's pressing his nose against the damp spot between your thighs, leaving you thankful for the warm summer air that made you choose one of the few dresses in your closet as your attire for the evening.

He's slipped your panties from your legs in record time, leaving you squirming atop the edge of the small island in the center of the room. It's obvious that he won't be gentle, not tonight, not when he's hard between your thighs a moment later, filling you in a swift motion that has you wondering when he managed to even unbutton his jeans. You bite into the soft flesh of his shoulder, holding in the scream that could alert the teenager upstairs about what's currently happening in the kitchen, but the sound crawls up your chest with each pound of his hips against yours.

"Quiet," he whispers harshly in your ear, an unnecessary command because a moment later he's devouring you again, the frantic movement of his lips against yours concealing any evidence that threatens to escape. It's fast, the way he's rutting into you, within you, driving you higher until you're no longer certain where he stops and you begin.

And then you notice it. You catch the way he's focused on something over your shoulder, but it isn't until he's lifted you from the counter and carried you effortlessly across the room that your mind begins to process.

Ellie's earlier question slips from your mouth when he settles you in his lap, your knees braced against the wood on either side of his hips. "Thought this was for Tommy," you grit out when he guides your hips against his own, the chair rocking back in a way that leaves you feeling off balance. "I thought it was for the ba..."

He cuts you off with a grunt, pulling you back down and holding you tightly against him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. He's strangely silent, his movements slowing to nothing even as the chair continues to shift slowly back and forth beneath you. The only sound remaining is the heavy rhythm of your breath, your body relaxing further against his in a way that makes it impossible not to feel him everywhere.

"Hey," you ask, voice softer now, more at ease, because you know he'll hear you this time. "I saw the way you were looking at them, earlier." He says nothing as you trace your fingers along the greying stubble on his jaw and you wait to see if he'll answer you, even if you already know his answer to the question you haven't asked.

It wasn't a secret to anyone that Joel was struggling with the idea of his brother having a kid, but it left everyone treading a fine line between the eager new father and the man still plagued by the memories of his lost daughter. The prospect of new joys mirrored only by the multitude of moments stolen long, long ago.

So when Joel had brought up the idea of the rocking chair, it caught you off guard. Things had been understandably tense between the Miller brothers, but it felt to you like Joel was finally finding peace with the situation, the rocking chair serving as an olive branch. One that might just help repair the broken parts of their relationship. But now, wrapped up in his arms, you begin to realize that perhaps you've been reading it all wrong.

You smooth back his hair from his forehead, looking down at him, and you see it. It's not just the loss of Sarah he's mourning now. It's the loss of all of it.

So you do the only thing you can think of. You move.

The sound that escapes his lips as you lift from his lap can only be described as a growl, one that you can feel rumbling in his chest when you brace your hands against it. You're slow at first, letting his length drag along your walls until he's nearly slipped from your heat, and then you fall back down. Joel's hands slip beneath the fabric of your dress, pushing it up along the expanse of your back as his fingers trail along your spine.

He pulls you closer then, his grip just as possessive as earlier, tugging you against him in a way that has you keening. You do your best to cling to reality, gripping the wood behind his head, nails digging into the surface as he continues to guide you. But when he tries to lift you from his lap, as he tries to proceed through the practiced motions that will leave him spilling across your stomach, you stop him.

"It's okay," you whisper against his ear, "let go."

For a moment he resists, his eyes clamping shut with the effort it takes to ward off his own climax as you continue to clench around him. But when you whisper it again, it's all the encouragement he needs. He finally snaps, pulling you somehow closer as he buries his length in your heat, the movement causing the chair that supports you both to rock back and forth gently as he fills you to the brim.

The air in the room feels different as you come back to earth, the two of you still nearly fully clothed as you perch atop his lap. He's softening inside you, the gentle feeling of his release trickling down your thigh and onto his jeans, but neither of you have the will to move aside from the way you gently rest your head against his shoulder.

"Are you sure?" Joel asks a while after, the question sounding redundant as his hands run soothingly along your back.

You nod against him, pressing your lips to the spot where his shoulder meets his neck. "I'm sure. Although," you pause, pulling back, "I think you might need to make another chair for Tommy and Maria."

"And why would that be?" he questions in a way that, for the first time in weeks, makes you feel like the man you love is back.

"Because," you kiss him softly, "we're gonna need this one for us."

[minnie-movs]

"idc, you're still mine." pt. 2

synopsis. cuckolding with ex-husband!gojo gone wrong! ft. geto

content warnings. not proofread, f!reader, jealous gojo, cuckolding, oral f!receiving, munch!geto, voyeurism, gojo's kinda toxic, gojo jorks it while his bestie eats his girl out, satosugu kinda(?) i mean they're both in it, slight mentions of angst(?), creative liberty taken to depict gojo’s powers very non canon, uhhhh amateur writing and kind of rushed at the end, idk how to do warnings

a/n. hi there! this is my first post on here and i'm still figuring out the ropes, aesthetic- and writing-wise. wrote this a while ago as a pt. 2 to a dilf!gojo drabble of mine. i wasn't satisfied enough with pt. 1 to post it yet, but you won’t really need that context to read this. might post pt. 1 depending on how well this does or if anyone wants it. but i'm an amateur writer so this might be pretty bad, sowwy. apologies in advance for badly written smut :'(

huge thank you/credit to @screampied for the aesthetic inspo & tutorial and for inspiring my writing as well, luv their blog

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

If you were to tell Satoru Gojo that, one day, he’d somehow convince his ex-wife to let him watch while she fucked his best friend, he’d say, “Duh. Of course I did.”

Because Satoru Gojo is the smartest, most competent man on the planet. He knows what he wants and gets what he wants. Always.

Just a few hours ago, he and you, his ex-wife, had mutually decided to get back together. "Mutually" meaning Satoru had gotten on his hands and knees and begged for forgiveness for an hour and a half (plus the last three years) before you relented to a truce. A temporary truce from all the animosity and bitterness you held towards him, which was enough for him.

Your ex-husband then proceeded to make up for the last few years you weren't together by fucking the ever-loving shit out of you.

Sure, he came before he could get his sweats off and nearly did again when your breasts spilled out of that sinful red gown you were wearing, but he couldn't help it. He loves you so much, he's just so happy to have you back in his life. And so. fucking. HORNY.

And now that 1. he has his goddess of an ex-wife back with him and 2. she's agreed to fulfill a long-time fantasy of his with an ex-friend, whom he may or may not have also imagined fucking, Satoru feels like he's won the sex lottery or something.

Well, okay, you two weren't really back together, "temporary truce" or whatever, and you and his friend hadn't really agreed to the same thing--- you were under the impression that you and Satoru would fuck while Suguru watched, not Satoru watching and fucking his fist while Suguru was tongue-deep in your cunt. But details schmetails. Everybody was having a good time, right? Most of all, him--- the smartest man on the planet.

As he adjusted himself on his chair, he smirked. Satoru Gojo, the strongest *and* the smartest, he thought.

He sat on a ridiculously expensive velvet-lined chair, manspreading in front of his ridiculously expensive king-size four-poster, furiously fisting his cock, which if it had to be priced would also be, yup, ridiculously expensive. Oh, but the view... *that* was priceless. You, his darling ex-wife, with your pretty pussy on display, while his ex-best friend sat on his knees, lapping at your clit as he jerked his own cock.

Satoru couldn't be more rock hard. His dick was certifiably diamond as he ran his hand along his throbbing veins, his thumb teasingly rubbing his angry, red tip. Every buttery moan that slipped from his ex-wife's lips, every grunt and twitch of Suguru's hips caused another tiny splurt of precum to ooze from Satoru's cockhole. His cerulean eyes widened as he watched you reach for Suguru's long locks, pulling the brunette deeper into your pussy with a forceful tug and practically suffocating him.

The action made your ex-husband let out a weak groan.

Oh fuckkkk. And he thinks he just got harder.

Man, he knew he was genius for coming up with this. The smartest, indeed.

Suguru moaned into your pussy, lewd squelches emanating from below with each suckle and lick. "Fuck, you taste so good, angel..." One hand on his cock, the other held you down as you writhed under him, eliciting a dark chuckle from the long-haired sorcerer, "That's right, arch your back for me. Juuust like that. Good girl."

Your weak little pants of "Ah! Suguru!" and "More, Suguru!" only served to stroke his ego as he brought the hand that was on his cock to slap your ravaged clit intermittently.

Plap! Plap! Plap! Each little strike had you twitching and whining, much to his amusement. "Hah- God, you sound like such a slut. *suck* This selfish pussy's worse than you, *spit* wetter than a waterfall and so eager for cock. Mngh- Who knew an angel like you could be so. Thwack! fucking. Thwack! Nasty. THWACK! " He punctuated each word with a harsher smack to your poor, abused clit.

Suguru moved the hand holding you down to dip two long fingers into your sopping heat, scissoring them while he devoured you. "So wet on my tongue, so tight around my fingers." Every word sent you reeling as you danced on his tongue, his large hand ceasing its assault on your clit to cup the curve of your ass. His fingers delved deeper into your pussy, curving in a come-hither motion to massage against your spongy g-spot. You yelp, your fingers in his hair gripped painfully to keep yourself sane.

Fuck, Suguru *thinks* he could cum hands-free from just this.

And fuuuck, Satoru just might cum, no matter what the fuck you do.

He pushed himself and gripped his base to keep from shamefully splattering cum like some horny teen. Satoru Gojo will not be embarrassed like this. He will NOT cum for the fifth time in under an hour since this all started like a dog in heat. He will not embarrass himself in front of his ex-wife after he just got you back, not really. He's the strongest. He's the smartest! And he definitely has more endurance and stamina than this, please believe him.

So, he'll resort to making smartass comments because he's going to cum soon, no, he's not affected at all.

"Hngh-" he groaned, slowing his strokes on his dick, and chuckled breathily, "You've sure got a mouth on you, Suguru. You're usually so mmgh- formal and polite. One taste of my wife's pussy and you lose composure, my friend?"

"Ex-wife," you hissed back, mid-moan, "Temporary ngh- truce."

"Ex-friend," Suguru growled, his tongue pausing briefly. "You're still a fucking dick.

"And shut the fuck up," you two said in unison.

Satoru rolled his eyes as you two snapped at him. This genius suggestion was his anyway, everyone was gonna get an orgasm out of this because of him, and not a "thank you" to be heard. Hmph. How ungrateful.

Instead, he focused on Satoru Jr., his not-so-little friend. The white-maned sorcerer let one hand glide along his length, occasionally coming down to tease his balls, which were heavy and eager to spurt cum. He kept a torturous pace, despite needing to cum so fucking badly, and purposefully prolonged his orgasm, wanting to cum at the same time when you'd cum in Suguru's mouth.

You moaned, clit throbbing under Suguru's touch, "F-fuck! Right there!" Suguru's tongue worked faster to bring you to the edge, your juices painting his face, "Mnah- Yes, ma'am. Gonna slurp this pussy up so good, angel. Mmm- Just how you like."

Satoru looked on at the two of you, shutting the fuck up as ordered but his mind was as loud as ever.

Yeah, yeaaahhh. Suck on her pussy good, Suguru. Mmmh, yeah, kiss around her clit, just like that, she fuckin' loves that shit.

Your thighs started to shudder, signaling your impending orgasm. "Ah, S-Suguru! 'm c-close!" Suguru crooned back at you, "Yeah, angel? *suck* Gonna cum for me, *lick* sweet girl?"

S-shit, 'm close t-too. Can't f-fucking hold- ngh- any longer- fuck-

You nodded quickly, your body heating up as the coil in your stomach was pulled tight, "Ah- yes! F-feels so g-good! Ongh-"

Ah- she looks- fuck, so fucking hot, fuck fuck fuck!

A cocky grin painted Suguru's mouth as he started to maneuver himself up onto the bed, holding your thighs close to him so he could still lap at you, "Yeah? Ohhh Say my fucking name, angel.*spit* Who's making you feel this good? *SUCK* Who's gonna fuck you good tonight?"

Ngh, f-fuck- wait what-

His hand staggers.

Your mind was going fuzzy, focusing on only the pleasure as the words tumbled out of you, “Y-you are, Suguru! God, m-making me feel soooo gooood!”

Ah- wait, what did he just say-

Suguru growled, giving your clit a last nibble before letting his fingers take over, “I can’t believe I get to fuck your pretty pussy tonight. Thank you, angel.”

Wait- hold on- that’s not what we discuss- uh y-yellow- guys, yellow-

You mewled, your words devolving into nearly incoherent babbles at this point, “Mnh! Mmh! Yes, f-f-fuck me! Wan’ you- only you to f-fuck me-! F-finally!”

Finally? ok, the fuck- red- RED-

Suguru licked his lips clean of your slick and smirked, his digits working at your pulsing nub, “Who does this pussy belong to, huh? Whose is it? Fucking say it.”

Satoru’s unbelieving ears perked up at that, his hand now completely still on his leaking cock. The remnants of pleasure were present but were mere embers compared to the blaze from before. His eyes shot to you, nervously awaiting your response.

RED. RED. RED RED RED RED RED-

Mmh no- fuck- she fucking wouldn’t-

The thought was interrupted by your pleasure-drunk whine, “You, Suguru! My pussy belongs to you! Only you!”

Satoru’s face dropped, his blue eyes dangerously darkened as the muscles in his jaw clenched. Oh,

Hell.

Fucking.

NO.

Suguru was moving his cock towards your pussy, wanting to shove it in last moment, wanting you to cum just as he put it in.

Pearly tears lined your eyes that were rolling back into your head, your vision going white with pleasure.

There… there… nearly there… The white light got bigger… or was it blue? purple maybe? Closer… closer… right there and—

***BOOM!!!***

You felt a rush of wind as your orgasm was rudely ripped from you. Suddenly, your ex-husband’s penthouse suite felt a lot more breezier than you remembered.

Your eyes fluttered open, hazily taking in your surroundings before landing on a red-faced, heavily breathing Satoru. He was standing at the foot of the bed, his entire body tense and straight.

He had his thumb, index, and middle finger pointed outwards like he’d just…

Your eyes widened, head snapping to the source of the wind to see that the entire left wall of the bedroom was gone… and so was Suguru.

Your eyes snapped to your ex-husband as you sputtered, “Did you just Hollow Purple your best friend?!”

“Ex-best friend,” Satoru cleared his throat and cracked his neck, “And no, I just gave him a gentle nudge out the door.”

Your jaw tightened, “Out the window, you mean.”

“Same thing—“

“You could’ve leveled the city, you could’ve killed him—“

“It was hardly 10 percent and targeted, he can handle it and so can the city—“

“Satoru—“

“I’m sure he’s still flying�� or falling, either one—“

“Satoru—“

“First, he dates my wife then tries to fuck her? Yeah, right—“

“Satoru—“

“Yeah, yeah, still ex-wife. I know-“

“SATORU-“

“FUCK, WHAT?”

“His clothes. You sent the man flying out the window, butt-naked.”

“…”

“And I’d do it again.”

You rolled your eyes hard, “You don’t get to say that- Seriously, what the hell? You asked him to come over!”

Ignoring your scolding, Satoru crawled onto the bed and buried his face in your chest. He let out a low whine, looking up at you from between your breasts like a pouting child would, “Your pussy belongs to me, right?”

You blinked, a groan of realization escaping you. Fucking hell, your ex-husband was such a damn baby. You huffed, reasonably upset that you didn’t get to cum, all because of your ex-husband’s jealousy over something he wanted in the first fucking place.

“Satoru Gojo, you’re the dumbest man on this planet.”

His lips curved into a smirk before he’s suddenly flipped you over on the bed. His hand landed on your ass with a resounding smack! and you felt him lining his cock at your entrance. Just as he was about to push in, he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Then let me hit you with that dumb dick.”

[justgiulia]

HIII I HAD A THOIGHT THAT HAS BEEN KILLING MY MIND AND I NEED TO TELL IT TO SOMEONE OTHERWISE IM GNA EXPLODE

get this . everyone chilling at ramshackle dorm doing their own thing, yuu (and grimm by extension), ace and deuce sitting by the table talking about whatever crosses their mind

Eventually the conversation escalates to birthdays and holidays and ace asks how old Yuu is. Azul interjects with saying Yuu's age from the contract they signed a few months ago, but then Yuu pipes up and tells them that they're one year older than that.

Theres a small moment of confusion until it dawns onto Deuce that Yuy's birthday was a month or two ago and they never spoke a peep about it. Not even to grimm!! And when asked, Yuy makes an excuse like "that was when __ was kind of close to overblotting and I didn't want to make it about me because that'd be so nitpicky—"

It was based off an audio i heard and idk if i want to write it into a short drabble for myself i probably cant since im only on book 2 ueue). But like. its a fun prompt methinks. what would all of them do when they find out Yuu deliberately didn't say a thing about their birthday

🎊

You didn't tell them about your birthday?!

characters: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Azul Ashengrotto, Grimm.

author's note: let's just pretend I didn't just post a request from almost 2 years ago 😭 I'm deeply sorry. also, I apologize for not uploading anything this month but I'm working on something big 🙏

warnings: none

Ace Trappola

For his Immediate Reaction, he is offended in the most dramatic way possible. He gasps like you’ve committed the ultimate betrayal.

Once he processes that you skipped celebrating because of an overblot situation, Ace feels a bit guilty. He won’t outright admit it, but his teasing becomes a little softer as a result.

He insists on throwing you an over-the-top, borderline ridiculous party.

“I’m talking about party hats for everyone and cake so big Grimm can’t finish it—well, maybe.”

His idea of a celebration is half a joke, but you know he’s secretly serious about making it memorable and deep down, he’s touched by how considerate you were and wants to make sure you never feel overlooked again.

Deuce Spade

Deuce is visibly upset, almost like he’s the one who forgot your birthday, feeling terrible for not realizing sooner.

“But Prefect, birthdays are important! You deserve to be celebrated!”

He gets way too worked up about making it up to you, like it’s a mission, he might also wonder if he’s a bad friend for not noticing your birthday had passed. He’ll pay more attention to your subtle hints in the future (even if you weren’t giving any).

"I won’t let this happen again. Next time, we’ll do something amazing. I swear.”

You swear his sincerity makes you feel just as guilty for not telling him.

Azul Ashengrotto

Acts unbothered on the surface but lowkey blames himself for not catching on sooner, especially since he prides himself on knowing useful details about everyone (and blackmailing them).

Azul will subtly try to make it up to you in his own way. Maybe he gives you a small but meaningful gift with a nonchalant...

“Consider this a late birthday present.”

He might tease you about this later saying something like...

“Oh, Prefect, you wouldn’t hide something as important as a birthday from us again, would you? It’s not wise to keep secrets from your allies.”

But the teasing is his way of showing he cares.

Grimm

“You didn’t even tell me, your best pal?! Unbelievable!”

He paces around the room dramatically, occasionally glaring at you with exaggerated betrayal.

As much as he tries to play it off as annoyance, it’s clear he’s genuinely hurt that you didn’t trust him with such important information.

“I live here! I’m supposed to know these things!”

His solution to everything is cake.

“Alright, let’s bake a cake right now. Wait, no—you bake the cake, and I’ll taste-test it!”

Grimm will insist on celebrating your birthday retroactively, even if it’s something small. He’ll demand a party and act like it’s all for you, but deep down, he just wants to feel like he’s making things right.

Overall, they argue over how to properly celebrate your next birthday. Ace wants chaos, Deuce wants heartfelt, Grimm just wants food, and Azul suggests something elegant but practical.

Despite their differences, they all agree on one thing: they’re not letting you keep secrets like this again. You can expect everyone to be hyperaware of your birthday next year—and they’ll make sure it’s unforgettable.

[sereia4skz]

hi could you do a drabble for your event with poly hyunlix x fem reader and the prompt ‘it’s too late now’ congratulations! <3

1.5k Followers Event | never too late

pairing: poly!hyunlix x reader

genre: comfort

warnings: they aren't quite in a relationship? idk it's complicated

event masterlist: #1.5kStarsForYaya

━━━━━━━━━━━━⋆｡°✩

You sat nestled between Hyunjin and Felix on the couch, the late afternoon sun spilling gold through the sheer curtains. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of a playlist someone had left on shuffle, a mix of indie and lo-fi that felt like a gentle soundtrack to this unspoken moment. Felix’s head rested lightly against your shoulder, and Hyunjin’s fingers intertwined with yours, their warmth steadying you.

You’d spent the day like this: wrapped up in the kind of comfortable silence that only comes after a thousand conversations, after knowing someone so deeply it’s almost like you can finish their thoughts. Yet even with all the closeness, something unspoken hovered between you.

Hyunjin’s voice broke the silence, low and thoughtful. “Do you remember the first time the three of us met? How chaotic and awkward it was?”

You smiled, eyes drifting to Felix, who was looking at the floor with a small, shy grin. “Felix literally tripped over his own feet and knocked over the entire display of books at the bookstore. I was so embarrassed.”

Felix laughed softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “And Hyunjin was the only one who helped me pick everything up instead of laughing.”

Hyunjin chuckled, but the softness in his eyes deepened. “Yeah, I guess I’ve always cared more than I said.”

You squeezed Felix’s hand, feeling the tension behind Hyunjin’s words. For months now, the three of you had been circling around feelings, words caught on the edge of your lips, things said in half-measures, moments missed.

Hyunjin swallowed and looked at you both, voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe we waited too long to say the things that matter. To admit what we feel.”

Felix’s smile faltered. “I thought I had time, but… it’s too late now.”

You shook your head, heart aching but determined. “No, it’s not. It’s never too late. We just need to be honest with each other.”

Hyunjin’s gaze softened, a flicker of hope breaking through the weight of hesitation. “But what if we lose what we already have? What if saying it changes everything?”

You took a deep breath, resting your forehead against Felix’s. “Change isn’t always bad. Sometimes it’s the only way to grow.”

Felix looked between you and Hyunjin, his eyes shining with unshed tears and something fierce, hope, maybe, or love. “I don’t want to lose this. Us. Even if it means risking everything.”

Hyunjin squeezed your hand tighter. “Then let’s take the risk. Together.”

The three of you sat close, hearts pounding in quiet sync, the future uncertain but suddenly full of possibility. It wasn’t too late. Not for love, not for honesty, not for you.

“It’s too late for regrets,” you whispered, “but it’s just the beginning for us.”

And with that, the sun dipped lower, painting the room in warm amber as you leaned into the two people you loved most, ready for whatever came next.

━━━━━━━━━━━━⋆｡°✩

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats @dreamyfelixx @yxna-bliss @turtledove824 @enhacolor @skzz0213 @hannahlue @purplelady85 @velvetmoonlght

[xternal-rst]

weirdest kink? well i suppose the freak can come out once in a while (remember you have the ability to refuse) but have you ever heard of macro/micro? it’s basically an extreme version of a size kink, like a giant and a human or a tiny fairy and a human. it is USUALLY paired with v0re but i myself am not very comfortable with it, i just like the thought of being at the complete mercy (being the smaller) of someone whose tongue could cover my entire cock and ass in a single swipe. you can write something with this if you’re into it 🧍

Ooh never wrote this before, this really intrigued me so much that I have to write this first. I mean I have thought about it but it doesn't really gets me off sometimes. Vore part are disgusting, never understand how people find it hot.

I'll write this as small drabble at first and if you like the plot, maybe I could write this full fanfic.

Disclaimer!! Please do tell me what type of fanfic y'all want, either small drabble or just full on fanfic yeah.. Idk what to call it. Also tell me your kinks and give me a little plot so that it can give me an idea of what you want, yeah? Thank uu :)

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

!⚠!: bottom reader, mention of tongue/mouth play?, mention of object insertion, this is bad, dub con, size kinks (micro/macro), NO VORE!

𝕾𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖇𝖇𝖑𝖊

Imagine that you're an earth fairy, a small creature that protects its nature from any danger. Either you help an injured animal or that you lead the lost adventure to their path.

Your wings flapped with glee as you smiled bashfully whenever you get a little reward. It was some sort of achievement you get to go through your dull life. Unfortunately, you had been caught by a human who called himself a "fairy hunter"(?) Or whatever it is, you can't really tell from how fast he was speaking.

"Yes! Yes yes yes!! Finally, I caught a fairy!"

You squeaked for mercy, trying to convince him that it was a bad idea and how he'll have to endure the consequences one day. Does he listen? Of course he doesn't, all he saw was a fairy flying around in a jar and squeaking like a little mouse.

It was a matter of time until you're getting exhausted from shouting and flying in circles. You hugged your knees, clenching your clothes in fear. You began to think of the possibilities of dying in the human hand, who was going to protect the forest if you were gone?

✧༺✦✮✦༻✧

However, when you get to his home. He wasn't what you had expected. He was kind and overall was just fascinated with a fairy which being fascinated was an understatement. He was obsessed with a fairy creature and he finally caught one just because.

At first you felt like a guinea pig being tested with all the tools he poked you with his pencil or just a thin chopstick. Eventually he took off your clothes, he had a grin on his face as if he had gotten candy as a reward.

Your eyes widened when he flipped you over and began to prod your hole with his finger, you tried to kick but he was just too strong.

Then, he had an idea in his mind. You look back in fear with your heart racing as your mind is blanked, not knowing what to do. You had a feeling that in the next few moments, it wasn't good.

✧༺✦✮✦༻✧

You're moaning and panting as you gripped onto his fingers, legs shaking with half lidded eyes. You could feel the chopstick slowly going in and out of your quivering hole, you couldn't take it any longer. It was too much for your body whenever it hit your spot.

Then he pulled it out, quickly moving you towards his mouth. The wetness of his tongue in your coo and ass was something you never thought you would experience. Your face paled at the possibility of being eaten but a shock of pleasure distracts the thought.

You finally accepted that this was your life now, trapped and used by a newbie hunter.

✧༺✦✮✦༻✧

This isn't much, I'm kind of bad at doing small drabble but I'm also unsure if this is what you want. Thank you again for the request ദ്ദി・ᴗ・)✧

[mister0ctopus]

Silly Guy [a drabble from We Are All Sinners] ⛧ JJK

Pairings: We Are All Sinners couple (Jungkook x Reader)

Ratings: 18+ ONLY!!! MDNI!

Summary: “So sorry for leaving a mess… look what I did to you.”

Can be read as a stand alone.

Warnings: jungkook being a little jealous, him being silly, them being horny, jimin being done, your boyfriend cleaning the mess he made before the party, bathroom sex kinda, yn being fawked raw (please wrap it up), oral sex (both receiving), cumplay, cum being mentioned 100x, idk probably corn with a little plot

Word Count: 1.6K

⛧ MAIN MASTERLIST

a/n: a short drabble while chapter 7 is taking too long to finish (its a long one, and a little heavy to write, forgive me). please accept his as an apology? thank you all and love you all so much mwah mwah mwah <3

THEN

It’s been a while since you dragged yourself out to one of these house parties – you know, the kind overflowing with cheap booze, sweaty uni kids, and the collective goal to relax or to fuck, or both.

You’re in your sophomore year now, and Jungkook, like the charming, cool bastard he is, somehow got even more friends. He’s got them from every pocket of campus now – not just his bandmates. Engineering kids, sports bros, the science crew, the party crew.

Even some of your classmates.

You? 

You made two close friends from your major, until they switched last semester. Now it’s just you again.

Technically not alone – since being with Jungkook means you always have a table, always have a ride, always have people pulling you into hugs or offering you a drink.

He leads the way inside, hand gripping yours so tightly, like he’s afraid someone might snatch you. Every few steps, he stops to dab someone up or pull them into those bro hugs. You trail behind, offering nods as well to people who greet you automatically as soon as they see him.

Everyone knows by now: Jungkook doesn’t come to parties without you.

And honestly, you were shocked you still pushed through with the party tonight, albeit a few hours late, because when Jungkook came to pick you up and saw you in that black mini dress, he didn’t even let you finish whining about your uneven eyeliner.

And maybe, you stopped talking too – mid-sentence – when you saw him standing there, stupidly delicious in that oversized gray shirt and jeans that hung just right off his hips.

He just locked the door behind him, grabbed you by the waist, spun you around, bent you over your tiny dorm couch, and yanked your dress up – no panties, of course, you (kinda) knew this was going to happen.

He fucked you hard, moaning as he folded you in half and broke you open like a starved man.

And if that wasn’t enough, he flipped you after, carried you to the bed, and fucked you in a breath-stealing missionary – your mini dress now bunched at your stomach, bralette pushed up and doing nothing to hide your tits.

He started a little gentler this time, kissing you slow, hips rolling deep – but the second you whispered “harder” against his ear, his hands wrapped around your throat without hesitation, and your legs were over his shoulders as he pounded into you to fuck the air out of your lungs.

And maaaybe – just maybe – you wanted more of his delicious cum.

So you begged for it, whimpering, “Come inside me again, please,” as you clenched around him, choking his delicious cock with every squeeze, milking him for everything he’s worth.

And now, you’re playing card games, nodding along to whatever inside joke Jimin just said – all while your head’s fixated on the sticky cum leaking down your thighs, your soaked panties being useless at this point.

You feel filthy, and still horny.

And across the room is your boyfriend, doing absolutely nothing to help except be a fucking tease – laughing while playing beer pong with Namjoon and Yoongi, his gaze flicking over to you from time to time, offering a wink or a smirk, hair damp with sweat, looking like a goddamn snack in that shirt and jeans.

And underneath it all is the same dick that pounded you two hours ago.

“Oh wow, YN, you’re so good at these card games – is this, like, a rich people thing?” Jimin teases, nudging you as you wipe the floor with everyone in a game everyone just learned but somehow became an instant party staple.

You flash him a grin, collecting your winnings.

It’s a game built on strategy, luck, and not giving away too much – things you’ve been dealing with since childhood.

So technically, yeah. Jimin’s not wrong.

“Who taught you these, YN?” the guy from your class asks – you’ve forgotten his name, but you’ve seen him around often – leaning in a little too close as he flicks one of your cards with a smirk.

You just smile politely, keeping your cards close to your face.

“Jimin taught me. It’s not that hard to learn, the rules are super straightforward.”

He chuckles, eyes dragging down your face.

“Easy for you to say. You’re smart. Bet you pick up anything quick.”

“Nah, it’s not that hard once you get the gist,” you say with a grin, placing down a pair of matching cards on the coffee table. Everyone groans.

You’ve been dropping combos all night – and with every turn, your cards keep getting fewer.

Which only means one thing: you’re about to win. Again.

“I actually don’t get it,” the guy says with a soft laugh, leaning closer like there’s not enough room at the table – which there absolutely is.

“You could probably teach me sometime... I learn better one-on-one.”

He nudges your knee with his again – subtle, but not really. He’s been trying to do that for the past hour.

You scoffed. “You’d probably get it faster if you actually focused on your cards, you know?”

He grins, tilting his head. “Can you blame me? I mean—” he gestures to your face. “How am I supposed to concentrate when that is sitting beside me?”

“I suggest you stop whatever you’re doing, Niki. Jungkook’s been glaring at us since you sat down – give YN a little space,” Jimin mutters, bored, like he’s not saying it out of concern for anyone, just out of truth, fanning out his cards after losing that round.

“I’m not doing anything.” He shrugs. “Just trying to be friendly with YN. She doesn’t usually come to these, right?”

“Yeah, say that to him,” Jimin scoffs, already dealing the cards to the five players gathered around the coffee table, his eyes flicking toward Jungkook.

And when you glance over, Jungkook’s already walking towards your table. Long strides. Smile gone. Jaw tight. Eyes glued to the guy sitting a little too comfortably next to you.

Seconds later, he’s behind you, leaning.

One arm snakes around your waist, pulling you into a warm, possessive bear hug.

His other hand slips under your hair as he angles your neck to press a long kiss to your skin.

You bite your lip to suppress a giggle – which, unfortunately, he takes as encouragement.

Because now his mouth is on yours, sucking your tongue like it’s the sweetest thing to ever exist.

It’s quick. But it’s deep.

And it leaves you very, very bothered.

And as the very bothered girlfriend, you figure it’s only fair to share the suffering – so you lean in close, lips brushing his ear, and whisper low enough for only him to hear:

“Your cum is dripping on me. You wanna fix your mess?”

And as the very good boyfriend he is, he doesn’t waste a fucking second.

His hand slides into yours, gentle but firm, pulling you to your feet calmly.

“She’s done playing for the night,” he says to Jimin.

Jimin doesn’t even look up – just sighs, shakes his head, and mumbles, “Yeah, figured,” while his eyes stay locked on his cards.

You both weave through the crowd upstairs, ducking past sweaty bodies, ignoring everyone, as he tugs you down the hall and into the one bathroom that, somehow, is miraculously empty.

And as soon as he locks the door, in less than a second, he’s on his knees.

He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t waste time undressing you.

He just shoves your dress up, yanks your panties to the side – and there it is – the mess he left inside you earlier, still glistening between your thighs.

He drawls a long, low “Fuuuuuuck,” then adds, politely:

“So sorry for leaving a mess… look what I did to you.”

And then that polite mouth is on your thigh, tongue tracing the sticky trail of his cum, lapping it up, reclaiming every drop.

He moves higher, hungrier – and when he finally reaches your core, his tongue devours.

“Messy little hole… still leaking for me,” he mutters between licks.

And maybe – just maybe – you need it more than he does.

Because your fingers are tangled in his hair, pulling tight, grinding his face deeper against your soaked pussy like you’re trying to fuse him to you.

And maybe he takes that as encouragement, because now he’s hooking one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you up wider, giving himself more room to feast.

And he feasts.

And after you come, he kisses you deep, makes you taste yourself on his tongue, before you unbutton his pants and pull out his leaking hardness, stroking him hungrily.

And maybe – just maybe – someone bangs on the bathroom door, probably needing to piss or puke or who knows.

But it’s hard to yell “occupied” when your mouth is already full – stretched around Jungkook’s thick, throbbing cock, your throat working to take him deeper, your jaw aching just the way he likes.

You look up at him through watery eyes, and he wipes your tears with his thumb – soft and tender even as he holds your head in place, telling you gently, between hisses and pants, how good of a girl you are, how you’re made just for him.

And maybe – just maybe – you love the thought of all your holes being filled with him, so you beg him to finish inside your mouth.

And when he does, you proudly show him what you earned on your tongue, before swallowing it all, never breaking eye contact.

And maybe – just maybe – that makes him short-circuit.

Because after he fills your mouth with his white, sticky cum in that tiny, humid bathroom, he drives you back to your dorm so he can properly fuck you.

And this time, he has you face down, ass up, his cock buried deep inside your swollen, tight little pussy – with his thumb in your tight little ass – making you feel completely full of him as he pants

“Mine, only mine.” over and over again.

As if he needs to say it.

As if anyone could actually compete.

As if anyone could take you.

What a silly guy, this guy, this Jungkook. ⛧

taglist: @softhaes @investedreader @whoa-jo @mageprincess7 @daskewl

a/n: hey, if you liked this one, reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated :) thank you, love u! 💌 send me an ask or feedback

[sproouts-jpeg]

i hc all the straw hat pirates as some flavor of trans or just having some kind of hyper specific gender weirdness (it’s the highest honor and privilege i can bestow upon them as my favorites)

ok straw hat gender + sexuality hcs now cause ig it’s on topic (some are basic and brief and some uber specific cause idk that’s just the vibes of how they would feel abt themselves) (also lots of little drabbles abt gender that someone could write a whole paper on but that won’t be me lol):

luffy

technically a guy but really just here to have fun (he/him)

in the way of “ppl who im equals with in many ways (e.g. ace, sabo, usopp, zoro, etc.) are men so im technically a man by proxy”

like he wouldn’t describe it like that but that’s how it works for him

i feel like he used to be kinda insecure abt being perceived as feminine pre-ts (like yk that scene in amazon lily with the “girly” vest) he learned from growing up with ace (ace, who’s a trans man, used to have some internalized misogyny when he was a kid)

but now post-ts he doesn’t care how he’s perceived at all, and will most of the time respond to almost any pronoun or descriptor (tho half the time he won’t simply cause hes not listening)

aroace

(if we’re gonna get into the semantics abt shipping: he has a lot of love in his heart and could be in a qpr, in whatever way he would call it and what it may entail to him idk)

zoro

trans man (he/him)

[insert that tiktok meme abt working out instead of getting top surgery]

will bind with kt tape sometimes but mostly just doesn’t bind at all

also on testosterone (i think the idea of him being afraid of needles is funny, but it makes no sense to me since he uses even sharper larger swords with seemingly reckless abandon)

i think he was the kind of kid that always knew he was a boy, very sure of himself, but in a way that also left him naive to how other people perceived him (also cause autistic zoro lol). kuina’s feelings on her gender as instilled by koushirou (that going through female puberty will only make her weaker over time, etc.) made him realize in retrospect (once he started puberty himself) that people will start to doubt his masculinity. I think that’d also play into why he works so hard to get stronger (besides fear of not being able to protect those he cares abt) and why he seems to be afraid of fighting female swordsmen (i wouldn’t find it out of the realm of possibility if he accidentally internalized kuina’s fears despite how he wants to disprove them)

gay demiromantic/demisexual (idk it’s just the vibes)

nami

transfemme bigender in the way of “not 100% a girl: one of the boys but also one of the girls, because being a girl’s girl is intrinsic to her being” (she/he)

also jokes aside something something abt being the only female crew member in the all-male environment of the arlong pirates and how she had to navigate socially there to survive and how that would impact her sense of gender as she’s had these experiences that are more commonly understood by women. but also i feel maybe to navigate certain other situations she might’ve had to “man up” (not only be ruthless and cunning but also to adopt more masculine social habits) to not be entirely isolated, underestimated, or manipulated as the only girl

she gets all the typical feminization surgeries done at some point throughout her life and will swindle her way into a good deal every time 😋👌

demiromantic lesbian

i’m a namivivi truther they’re in love your honor and they’re t4t (as all good ships are)

but also like she dates girls on every other island the crew goes to for funsies

usopp

transmasc nonbinary (he/they)

he’s kinda overcompensating a little about his masculinity due to anxiety about not feeling “completely like a man” but he’ll figure it out

i feel like sogeking could be used as an allegory for this too, it kinda already is (usopp is shown a few times to be preoccupied with manliness)! sogeking overall is strong and cool, but also manly, because that’s what usopp feels he himself isn’t, thus the persona is used to compensate for this (in the way of “usopp isn’t a strong manly person, but someone diff/sogeking would be, so he’ll just be a diff person instead”). usopp being seen as weak and feeling weak makes him feel like less of a man by extension.

wears a binder pre-ts (i hc franky got him his first actual binder cause he used to wrap his chest before. raaah big bro franky!!). got top surgery post-ts, will spin the tallest tales that change every time about how he got the scars

knows he likes guys, not 100% sure how he feels abt girls (tho he does find them pretty), doesn’t like to think abt all this too hard

sanji

some kind of genderqueer or genderfluid that he’s in denial abt (he/him, he/she eventually)

(cause he can’t wrap his brain around the concept that u can present fem or masc or however, whenever u want) (he’ll figure it out when he gets older)

grey asexual (doesn’t even know it yet)

(his romantic attraction to women is genuine, just exaggerated as overcompensation for all the other weird stuff he’s got going on)

(if he ever thought abt it he’d realize he wouldn’t really care what gender his partner is tho, and that he doesn’t really care for sexual intimacy as much as he’s romanticized it in his head) (but he won’t for a while :/)

vivi

trans woman (she/her)

no-op, but is on estrogen (idk that’s just the vibes to me)

sapphic (knows she likes women, but is not entirely sure abt men)

i love namivivi, but i also feel like they understand that they won’t be like together together for a very long time (cause yk pirate stuff and royal responsibilities) so they’re 100% ok with not being exclusive cause they know they’ll come back to each other in the end 👍

chopper

a boy in the way of “this is a human concept that was assigned to me, but with my crew i find comfort and camaraderie in it” (he/him)

but also if u ask him he will respond with “a male reindeer”

he’s only attracted to other deers/deer mink obv

(maybe other minks too idk (do minks in general only have relations with minks of the same species or???))

i feel like he’s still naive in that aspect, like he’s still figuring out what he likes but is kind of embarrassed to think abt it (idk what 15 yo isn’t lol)

robin

intersex trans woman (she/her)

being seen as “wrong” or a “demon” for an intrinsic aspect of herself; her df powers in canon, but also in this context her gender/sex (cause for some reason ppl actually believe that kind of crap irl).

having these similar experiences to franky (both in regards to gender and being a “freak” in a way) makes the whole “existing is not a crime” thing much more potent to me (omfg i’m gonna cry just thinking abt that line ;-;)

straight (but only attracted to the weirdest of men aka franky and exclusively t4t) (sorry bi robin enjoyers i can see where you’re coming from but that’s just not how my brain sees it)

franky

the most suuuuuper trans dude (being a cyborg is 100000% gender affirming) (he/him)

i could write a very long post going over individual details of his character that could be interpreted as an analogy for transness but i’ll just list my biggest points: 1) EXISTING IS NOT A CRIME (like wtf again gonna cry just thinking abt it), 2) being a quite literally self made man like he augments his body to fit his ideal self image, 3) reclaiming being labeled as a “pervert” as a form of self expression (like many queer people do irl)

(makes bootleg testosterone cola… tried to offer some to zoro but z would rather die than risk getting cavities (i also hc zoro really cares abt oral hygiene but that’s irrelevant rn))

bisexual

definitely a ladies man but idk i just feel like he can really appreciate another nice looking buff dude

brook

self-proclaimed “dandy” a.k.a. after decades stuck in the past, for my future i’m just gonna do whatever i want for the fun of it

like he’s a flamboyantly dressed rockstar, why not???

chaotic queer

he was definitely in a matelotage with yorki im telling you!!! (definition: an economic partnership established by pirates where 2 men were mates/matelots and would share income and inherit the others property if they died, sometime used as a form of civil union/marriage cause y’know ✨sodomy laws and stuff✨)

but also it’s mildly implied he did some stuff with some mermaids on fishman island and possibly big mom??? so yeah he’s just here to have fun

also more private about these aspects of himself in his past, but dead men can do whatever they please!!

jimbei

intersex male (he/him)

based on how many species of irl fish can change sex characteristics if needed to balance the environment. but also on how he can talk to fish, a skill apparently only mermaids have

unlabeled (likes people regardless of gender, but has a preference for women)

i mean like he could be bi or pan or whatever, but he just personally doesn’t use labels

[wonwayne]

how enha takes care of you ☁️

pairing : ot7 x gn!reader genre : fluff, comfort, humor warnings : mentions of food word count : 1k

a/n : requested by anon! kind of kicked it off with this hee drabble but had so much fun writing for all the members. for today’s purposes, let’s keep y/n sick and alone in their apartment 🫶

💭 heeseung

my little philosophy is that significant others can be two types of caregivers — one actively tries to treat your illness, the other is emotional support

each has their own merit ofc

but hee is miraculously both

sincerely believes he can rizz you to health

he’s being a bit selfish, he worries, for making you smile all the time

because it heals him more than it heals you

but he makes up for it by making sure you eat like a king (for all three meals a day!) until you feel better

also cuddles with you in bed to keep you warm

if whatever you have is contagious, he is definitely getting it

last but certainly not least: he sings to you. acoustic covers + snippets of his self-produced music, you’re getting it all 😌

almost makes you wish you were sick more often

💭 jay

arrives at your place with like fifty grocery bags (okay maybe not fifty, but… a lot)

big believer in sleep as the best medicine so he lets you be for the most part

but as soon as you wake up and come down to the living room

say hello to a FEAST

literally no room left on the dining table and he’s still doing something in the kitchen????

“jay i can’t… consume all of this” “don’t worry, eat as much as you want for now and i’ll put the leftovers in the fridge”

at this point what is there left to say except “can you just be my husband already”

you’re about to dig in and suddenly he’s standing over you giving you the death stare

“... did i… do something wrong?” “seriously?” your heart stops before he goes, “what happened to my thank you kiss?”

UGH he’s such a softie

💭 jake

is worried SICK and cannot hide it

refuses to leave your bedroom once he first enters it unless absolutely necessary — must stay by your side at all times !!

not the most experienced but the effort is very much there

“should we take the medicine together? would that be easier?” and you KNOW he hates taking medicine

“babe why would you take nyquil. you don’t have a cold.” “idk it can’t hurt can it?” it very much can (don’t do this kids)

he drinks it with you anyway (clinks the medicine cups and says “cheers!”… what are you going to do with this man) and tries his best to fight the drowsiness

ends up dozing with his head on your lap, kneeling by the bed

peak puppy position i tell you PEAK

💭 sunghoon

what matters is not so much how he takes care of you but how he looks so good while taking care of you: simple white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up just to the elbows, hair slicked back a little from washing his face, setting damp towels on your forehead and his forearm veins emerging as he wrings them… help me

it’s the wuthering heights bedridden cathy victorian era aesthetic okay

speaking of books why do i get the feeling that sunghoon would read to you

or simply talk to you about his day or childhood memories or anything to keep you comfortable and entertained

idk i feel like he’d want to remind you of his presence in a “i’m here for you” type of way but without being intrusive… is not at all offended when you fall asleep to his voice

don’t you just love when sunghoon.

💭 sunoo

i have one very specific idea for sunoo and i’m kinda obsessed with it

MINT. TEA. (if you know you know… mint tea is the sinus relief GOD)

and ofc as our resident mint choco lover, how could he not

“baby i made something for you!” you peer into the mug and you’re like 🤨 “you didn’t add chocolate syrup to this did you” “wtf i’m not a monster why would i do that??”

his discography and food preferences beg to differ but he truly does give you pure, steaming mint tea

it is so perfect i promise you will fall in love with him all over again

mint aside we all know this man is a human vitamin like i cannot imagine you staying sick for long

no need to binge tv (it makes your head hurt more anyway), just have sunoo spill all the drama to you for seven hours straight and you’ll be good to go

💭 jungwon

makes you wonder, did this boy have a medical degree this entire time and just not tell me??

knows exactly which medications help with which symptoms, gives you all the immune boosting foods, pulls up with a weighted blanket and a heating pad and a plushie to hug— you’re getting the best sleep of your life no question about it

listens to you so well “i miss what it was like to breathe” “it’s frustrating, isn’t it? as soon as one nostril clears, the other fills up, and it never seems to end” “YES ohmy— [cough] god, yes, you get it :(”

at the same time i think won is the most likely to avoid skinship when you’re sick bc yeah that stuffy nose does not sound fun

is smart about it though; prepares a bubble bath for you and then sets up the heating pad and everything on your bed while you’re in the bath

becomes 143x touchier once you’re back to normal (“i missed squishing your cheeks” “i missed squishing your cheeks!”)

💭 niki

crashes at your place to make sure you’re having a good time

it’s either you watching him game or movie marathon together

you don’t say it but you are so inordinately grateful that he’s caring enough to chill with you on days like these, you know he’d rather do dates outside and play pranks on you every other hour, but he’s giving that up just for you

would share a tub of ice cream with you if you’re craving it, although he voices his concerns first “is it… right to eat cold stuff when you have a cold?” “it defrosts in my mouth don’t worry” “okay you do you”

basically a good old sleepover

every time he checks your temperature he sings his part in fever (he’s humorous like that)

[liberalk1tsch]

This is a bizarre request, if I couldn’t get it out of my head.

Could you write a slight canon divergent one shot/drabble about Prim finding out how Gale has been treating Katniss, and slapping him across the face? I just think it would be really funny. And I love the relationship between Katniss and Prim

ok this request made me giggle ngl but i kinda fw how it turned out?? idk lol, hope you enjoy, anon!

setting: hospital wing in 13, post-bombing of d2

Your Sister Was Right

“Hey, Baby Everdeen, got anymore of that morphling for me?” asks Johanna, her laughs dissolving into words as she strolls out of my sister’s hospital room and down the hall to my nurses’ station. 

I smile at her ruefully. I don’t need to check her chart to know she’s jonesing for drugs she won’t get. “You know you’ve got another six hours till your next dose.”

She sighs dramatically. “Feels like forever.”

“How’s she doing?” I ask, nodding in the direction of Katniss. It was always hard caring for her, but especially now. Whenever I walk in, she puts up her typical front of pretending she’s okay for my sake, even when I know she’s hurting. Problem is, she won’t let anyone else in to see her pain either, save for maybe Haymitch.

Not even Gale’s been able to get much out of her, though I can’t say that doesn’t make sense. She can’t talk to him about Peeta, and that���s the thing that really torments her.

Finnick was the only one she came close to opening up to, but he’s . . . busy. The poor guy deserves some happiness with his soon-to-be wife.

Which leaves Johanna.

“She’s definitely been better,” says the girl from District 7. “Don’t think seeing your cousin is helping, though.”

“What do you mean?”

Johanna smiles pitifully at me. “Oh, my sweet summer child — he’s pretty, but he’s not good for her. Anyone with eyes can see it.”

I give her a confused look.

 She leans over the counter, like she’s telling me a secret. “Haven’t you seen it? The way she’s been slowly withdrawing from their relationship?” She leans back, putting a hand on her hip and speaking at normal volume again. “Personally, I’m Team Choking over Team Bombing A Mountain, but that’s just me.”

I have seen it, actually. Not just recently, but since those first Games. My older sister who left on that train never came home. Gale, for all his kindness to our family, still doesn’t see that.

At this rate, I’m not sure he ever will.

Once upon a time, I used to think it’d be cute if they got together. We’re all practically family anyways. But it wasn’t until I saw the way she looked at Peeta that I knew the poor guy never stood a chance. When her and Gale don’t talk, there’s only plain relief on her face. When her and Peeta weren’t talking, I would constantly catch her staring down the road at Peeta’s house, only breathing a sigh of relief as she watched the warm glow of his fire start up night by night, signifying that he was alive. That he was all right.

She’d deny it if anyone asked, but I know she’d started setting aside a squirrel to drop off at the bakery on days when Gale was in the mines and she knew Peeta would be in Victor’s Village. She wouldn’t take anything in return, and she’d always make sure the Hawthornes got the money for the “traded” game, but I helped Mother balance Katniss’ monthly winnings; it was hard to ignore the missing money — always the precise price of small game, and always on weekdays. It doesn’t help her case that I spotted her arguing with Otho Mellark when I stopped by the sweet shop after school one day, insisting he accept her offering.

Peeta would stop me in the street too, ask me how she was doing. Clearly hurt, clearly still licking whatever wounds they inflicted upon each other, but still caring for my sister in a way Gale never has.

I’m not stupid — I can see Gale has feelings for her. Have known about it probably longer than she has. I just don’t think his intentions are as pure, or as mindful of my sister as Peeta’s are.

“What’s he saying to her?” I ask Johanna.

She shrugs. “See for yourself.”

So I do.

I move down to the supply station a few yards away from the door to her room, pretending to take inventory, leaving me just within earshot of their conversation.

“Katniss, what difference is there, really, between crushing our enemy in a mine or blowing them out of the sky with one of Beetee’s arrows? The result is the same.”

“I don’t know. We were under attack in Eight, for one thing. The hospital was under attack.”

“Yes, and those hoverplanes came from District Two. So, by taking them out, we prevented further attacks.”

“But that kind of thinking . . . you could turn it into an argument for killing anyone at any time. You could justify sending kids into the Hunger Games to prevent the districts from getting out of line.”

“I don’t buy that.”

“I do. It must be those trips to the arena.”

I’ve never been an angry person.

I tend to see the best in people, even when they don’t necessarily deserve it, because you never know what someone has going on in their personal lives behind the scenes. 

But as I stand at the supply cart outside of my sister’s room, I can feel my fingers curling into fist, crumpling up a stray syringe wrapper in my hands as they begin to tremble with rage.

It was one thing to push his feelings onto Katniss (even if he does have notoriously bad timing with everything and is incredibly disrespectful towards Peeta). She can handle that herself. Sort of. Ish.

But condemning thousands of people to the same fate as our fathers, and then trying to justify it by comparing an offensive attack to defending the injured and ill is too far.

I saw the footage they used in the propo. Had to look away when the mountain collapsed, burying who knows how many people.

Plutarch tells me it’s just the way of war, that I’ll understand when I’m older.

But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand what could bring someone to do that to another person, let alone thousands of them. And now finding out that it’s Gale’s idea?

I want him away from my sister.

A small part of me tries to justify it. He stresses her, which is neither good for her mental nor physical healing. As an apprentice healer, I can very easily make the argument that it’s what’s best for her health. 

But if I’m honest with myself, I want him gone because I’ve lost faith in him. I used to look up to him as an older brother of sorts, but more and more often I find myself questioning if I even really know the guy.

He’s turning out to be very far from the person I thought he was.

I’m about to go march in there myself and tell him as much, when he’s suddenly there, closing the door behind him as he leaves.

“Hey, Prim,” he says by way of greeting. 

I’ve never been a violent person either. 

But although Gale is six years my senior and has a good foot and a half on me, for some reason, I find myself reaching up and smacking him across the face.

We stare at each other in stunned silence for a moment. My palm stings terribly, and Gale has a red imprint on his cheek from where I struck him.

“What was that for?” he asks, holding his hand to his cheek. He seems more shocked than angry with me.

Honestly? I’m not entirely sure. Lots of things, I suppose. For treating Katniss as if she owes him something. For never respecting her feelings for Peeta and his role in her life. For giving the citizens of District 2 a miner’s fate.

But Katniss especially. 

But in spite of what she’ll tell people, she’s the nicer one between the two of us. She’ll rebel against authority no problem, but when it comes to the people she loves, she’s a big softie. She freezes. She hates confrontation and struggles to stand up for herself because she’s so scared of losing anyone else. 

I know she loves Gale, same as I do — he’s family. But it’s possible to love someone and hold them accountable for how they treat you. Our relationship with Mother proves that.

I can’t imagine the slap was particularly painful for him, and I’m somewhat horrified by my own actions, but I can’t help the underlying feeling of satisfaction too.

“That was for Katniss. And Peeta. And the people of Two,” I finally say.

He sighs. “Prim, you wouldn’t —”

“Understand?” I ask. “No, you’re right, I wouldn’t. Because I don’t care if we are in a rebellion, I could never do what you did.” He opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off a second time. “But that’s not the point. My point is that she needs space and you need to give that to her. None of this is easy for anyone, and you’re making an already difficult time in her life that much harder. We aren’t on the brink of starvation in Twelve anymore. She doesn’t need you for survival. She just needs you to be her friend, and you haven’t been doing a very good job at that.” I look down at the cart, my temporary bravado suddenly gone, and with it my ability to look Gale in the eye. “Anyways, I’ve gotta go get some butterflies for this cart, it looks like it’s running low. I’ll see you at dinner,” I mumble, darting past him and scurrying off to the locked supply room.

I press my back against a wall and slide down to the floor, sighing out loud.

My mother will be furious when she finds out. Gale’s been good to us. I know that. She won’t let me forget it. But he’s been awful to Katniss as of late, and I can’t keep sitting around and watching her grow more and more upset, especially now that Peeta’s back.

Peeta.

Poor Peeta.

Poor Katniss. To be continuously badgered by Gale when Peeta’s only three halls down in a padded, locked room, nearly twisted beyond recognition by Snow’s torture.

It’s a good thing she’s not the only Everdeen sister who can put up a fight.

[shidouryusm]

Soooooo sami 👉👈 since we are both Hawks girlies we are in agreement that he has the most sensitive wings right? The kind that would quiver and tremble when he cums and if you touch them at any point he's just instantly hard... and if you grip them whilst jerking him off his hips will buck off the bed and he whines. Right???? 🫣

im so sorry it took me this long to finish it. i promise i intended to make them fuck but I got carried away into the plot iiufbiufhwjf. but you ask and i serve baby.

Hawks may be the one with wings but it was you who made him fly

Hawks x f!reader

synopsis: keigo arrives from a hellish day at work. as his sweet little girlfriend you find a way to relieve him

minors DNI. 18+ content.

word count: 2.4k (it was supposed to be a drabble...sigh)

content: hero au, established relationship, female anatomy!reader, switch!hawks,a little subby hawks but he switches at the end, handjobs, blowjobs, implied penetrative sex at the end, teasing, a bit of edging, titplay, playing with balls, cumeating, idk lmk what i missed.

a.n- well this was nasty and fun to write. this is my first time writing about him so do let me know how do you like it. not proofread well im v tired its 3 am :((

6:07 pm. The tokyo skyline has painted itself in the inkish blue, the little canvas of twilight already dwindling away while you stand in the middle of the balcony taking it all. you look up into the horizon, eyes hoping to catch a speck of red and yellow to appear that will sweep you out of your waiting game. 

Keigo was supposed to arrive atleast 40 mins prior, considering he gets off of duty today relatively earlier than other days. Promising an evening reserved to enjoy the pacificity of being with you – away from the worldly issues. 

He usually glides through the air, slowly landing on this very balcony, pressing a fleeting kiss on your lips even before his feet touches the ground and stumbles you both inside the house. According to him – it keeps things interesting. whatever he meant. you chuckle lightly thinking about that. 

Your trance of thoughts almost missed out the door knob turning and instead of the grandeur entrance of your boyfriend like some flying peter parker he is, you watch him sluggishly drag his body in. 

“to what do I owe such anticlimatic entrance, darling?”, you ask amusedly, walking inside the house to greet him which soon diffuses as you realise the dark shadows under his eyes and his face worn out by a hundred years. he looks beat up. 

“baby?…”, you voice in worry.

Keigo looks at you, watching him with a hint of concern playing in your eyes. you look so cute like that, he thinks. eyebrows squinted together, head slightly tilted and lips jutted together in confusion on why he’s staring at you like that. your skin looking soft and as tempting to get a feel of, decorated with a purple satin loungewear. 

Keigo takes a step forward, closing the distance. your hands reach his face, stroking from the little stubble in his chin to the swell of his cheek. he melts in your touch, his hands finding your waist and pulling you against his body. Keigo hides his face in your neck, his breath comes out in short huffs, tickling you in the crevice between your shoulder and head. 

“It’s been heck of a day”, he mumbles. pity courses through you when you hear his strained voice. You comb through his slightly unruly locks, scratching the base of his scalp while he holds you flush against his body , letting a hum right against your skin.

“awe..made you work a little too hard, baby?” you coo. One hand still raking through his hair while the other snakes around his waist, going upwards till it brushes against the base of his red, bright feathers.

The feel of your hands against his feathers jolts keigo up, a small grunt leaving his lips, still pressed against your neck. your fingers trail over his back, ghosting over his feathers before you carress them again. 

This time,a small, breathy moan escapes from keigo. his hands on your lower back pulls you in— as if you’re not already just a layer away from being inside his skin. 

You smirk, his reactions turning the cogs in your mind to play with him a bit.

“are you sensitive there, keigo?” you asked amusedly, your finger circling the base, right where his feathers sprout out. his face is hidden against your neck but you could still make out the hint of redness that spreads over the nape. 

Keigo pushes himself against you, the movement causing you to feel his clothed bulge rub against your naked thigh, you let out a soft sigh. you could make out the hardness of his cock even with the clothing.

His dick strains against you and what a good girlfriend like you would do in this situation—of course help him out in his little issue.

You pull him off of you, his eyes are drooping. you press a quick kiss on his lips before looping your arms around his neck. 

You feel his eyes glide downwards, taking in your figure. A flimsy tank top hugs your upper body in the most alluring way possible, your nipples hardened and poking out of the fabric like two peaks, making Keigo’s cock jump in his pants. The matching shorts rides up your thighs, exposing the full expanse of the plush skin under his golden eyes. you look so comfortable…and delectable. 

“should I help you out a little? you look like you could use some” you say, a little giggle passing through your lips. his eyes are still glued on your body and you take this opportunity to slightly tug the base of his feathers, bringing his attention back to you. Keigo hisses at the sensation, his face morphing into a temporary state of pleasure whenever your fingers come in contact with his supple feathers.

“Mhmmmm”, you hear him hum before his lips clash against yours. You stand there, in the middle of your hallway as keigo makes out with you, his lips languidly playing the push or pull with your lips. 

His hand reach down the back of your thigh and he hooks your whole leg around his waist, the position allowing him to rub his cock directly against your core. You moan into the kiss. Wanting more. But most importantly, making him feel wanted even more.

You push him towards the bedroom, both of your linked bodies stumbling under the low lights of the hallway till you reach there.

His body is manhandled onto the mattress, your figure hovering over his, as you keep on planting kisses all over his face, reaching his jaw. your mouth tilts against his while your tongue presses flat on his skin, savouring his taste. Keigo grabs your hips, needing something to ground himself from the sudden dominance you’re showing – not that he’s complaining at all.

“fuck baby…you’re so hot like that”, his voice raspy and laced with yearn. You hum against his jawline, your hands tugging on the tight compression shirt he has, wanting them off his body. 

He obliges. Your eyes drink the way his muscles taut while he pulls the fabric off himself and tosses it somewhere you could care any less about. Your hands lay against his pecks, as your mouth finds his once again. Keigo deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue inside the cavern of your mouth, a dribble of spit escaping from your shared mouth down your chin.

Your hands reaches towards his feathers and your hands softly massages the ends of it, making keigo moan in your mouth. 

“fuck…this will make me-” keigo squirms a little,  his mouth dancing more fiercely with yours. his hands squeezes your ass, making your clothed core grind in circular motions over his crotch, multiplying the sensation by tenfolds in Keigo's and your body.

“Cum? just by playing with your feathers? didn’t know you were that sensitive keigo.” you tug the ruffled plumage and Keigo almost bust a nut. his head falls backwards from the treatment and his hips inadvertently buck against your core. Your pussy lips are planted right over his dick and the way he thrusts himself upwards makes you pulsate. 

You look at him majestically submitting to you, so bare and vulnerable. It stirs a different feeling inside you. 

Top.2 hero for the world yet so weak in the knees for you. Wings so fierce yet so tamed under your touch.

“d-don’t get too ahead, you’ll regret it, darling” you hear keigo warn in between the kisses, his voice still broken and hoarse. 

“oh really? sure.” you use both your hands in work. one tugs the feathers, a little rougher than previous times, while the other hand palms his cock, rubbing the palm of your hand against the head of his cock. Keigo moans unashamedly, having his sensitive feathers played like that.

 “doesn’t look like it though” his little moans vibrates against your skin

That’s what you love about keigo. He may act tough and smug but will not be slightest bit of ashamed to vocalise his feelings during sex. Starting from little grunts to lewd moans – he drawls all of them. The little shake in his voice makes your pussy throb painfully, wanting nothing more than to sink yourself in him and drown yourself in pleasure while holding him tightly within. 

Your hands trail upwards towards the belt of his pants, peeling them out of his skin. His cock is swollen, the veins roped around the shaft popping angrily, hard as it sprung up, slamming against his stomach. The sight already enough for you to gush your arousal on his lap. 

you wrap your hands around his base, feeling his cock twitch upon the feel of your skin. Keigo tenses with the touch, exhaling audible breaths. His hands reach your shoulders, dropping the strap of the thin tank top. 

He could see your tits slightly jiggle from the movements and his mouth wanted nothing more than to wrap itself around your pert buds. 

You move your hands in rhythm – twisting and squeezing your hand in a way that he absolutely loves. A move that always gets him off. Your hands reaches the top of his shaft, his tip is angled beautifully, pre-cum falling of the slit endlessly. You run your thumb against the skin, pressing into the little slit. 

Keigo hisses again, his hands reflexively grabs your hair and tugs it. 

“F-fuck, don’t…”

you smirk at his reaction, smearing the pre-cum around the cockhead, reaching down the frenulum. while your hands work its wonders, his deft ones tugs your tank top down, releasing your tits from the confines. He kneads the soft mounds…pinching and rolling the nipples with his thick fingers.

The whole scene is lewd and pornographic – both of your hands working against each other to pleasure. Yours on his cock, stroking up and down in a steady rythm, occasionally squeezing the tip while his finds your tits to massage and jiggle it under his palm. Straight out of a sex tape.

You fondle his balls. It feels hot and heavy on your hands while you massage them. his muscle tenses, fighting every nerve to not spill his release yet. Stretching the seconds to imprint the feel of your hands. He reaches your shorts, his hands glides under them and reaching your cunt. 

“You’re so wet, baby. Seeing me like this gets you off?” he uses two of his fingers to separate the lips, his middle finger stroking the slit of your pussy all the way to the bundled nerve. he flicks it with one hand, earning a whimper from you. Keigo might get tamed under you momentarily but he still has the power to keep you on your toes as well.

His hands on you feels like heaven but you had a mission to accomplish. You get off his lap, kneeling right in front of him. Resting your hands on his thighs, you sink your mouth in his cock — sending keigo on the brink of orgasm right then and there.

“Oh shit…baby wait…” you move your mouth, your tongue kitten licks the head and moves down. His hands rest on the sides of your head while you bob un and down on his cock. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby. Look at your feathers all ruffled and disheveled. So so pretty.” 

Keigo could feel his heart hammering at your words. He always thought his love for you had reached the threshold way above the earth but you just had to prove it wrong. Looking at you gazing him with the doe eyes, your hands working deft magic to play with him on the edge of release, you were indeed the one with wings. Wings from the above. A descendent of heaven tailored specifically for him. 

“What a perfect little baby I got” he muses. You lay your tongue flat against his shaft, engulfing the whole length in your mouth, the ends of it reaching your throat. Your nose tickling with the untrimmed golden pubic hair decorating his pelvis. You tilt your mouth sideways, sucking more of him while your hands under plays with his balls. They twitch under your hands, begging for the release. You remove your mouth after licking the entirety of his length, his pre-cum smeared sheen on your lips. His wings flap and wraps around you. The sharp ends of the feather trailing the naked body of yours. 

You smirk devilishly before grabbing a handful of his feathers, tugging it from the ends, sending a trail of shock right to his spine which gushed down between his legs. 

Keigo watches you wink at him before licking your bottom lips to get a taste of his pre-cum. The sight breaking the straw that was holding him. With a final twitch, keigo cums. Strings of white rope decorates your palm while you work him through the release, occasionally licking his heavy cum from his opening. 

Keigo feels lightheaded. His body still tingling from the sensation of your hands and mouth. He looks at you giggling, your eyes crinkled with amusement and satisfaction while you lick a handful of his cum off your hand. Fucking hell. 

“do you feel better, babe?” you massage his thighs in hopes of taking care of him. He pulls you back into the bed. A quick kiss pressed against your lips — “well you did take a great care of me, I can’t deny. Certainly the best part about my day” his nose brushed against your cheek and you felt like your heart bloomed a batch of roses, specifically for him. 

“Im glad I could be of help, darling” your hand rakes his hair and you kiss his cheek. You feel his hands wrap around your waist, gilding down to the dips of your hips. 

“thank you so much baby. but…” Keigo turns you around in a split second, grabbing your hips to arch your back. Your ass hiked up in the air for him. His quick fingers tug the elastic of your shorts, peeling it off your skin, displaying your ass in full glory. 

He grabs a handful in his hands, spreading them apart to peek at your pussy lips, slick with your arousal, the gaping hole contracting. waiting for its turn to fucking bust.  

“wouldn’t it be a shame if I didn’t return the favour to you?” Keigo drags his length over the stripe of your pussy. pushing the tip inside slightly, drawing a moan from you.

It’s gonna be a long, fucking night.

a.n.2-> i just saw that he lives in a public security supply room LMAOAOAOAO more reasons for me to put him in a high rise penthouse where he fucks and lives to his heart’s content.

tagging @pastelle-rabbit because i promised her (here you go sweets), @stsgluver (my baby), if you want to be in my taglist hmu!!!

[transformers-spike]

Jello there it's foot anon.

Anyways.

I've been having lots of thoughts about like. A cnc scene with Screamer and his human. Foot based of course. Because I want that guy to be mean to me. Just a little. Well a lot. But that's not what this ask is about. It's about Screamer's human finding his stashe of feet pics and also kind of being into it. They're supportive at least. Also should I start writing a foot fetish fic. With Screamer. I'll be the change I want to see in the world.

Anyways².

We all know how much Starscream loathes himself for like fleshie little pedes. His curiosity got the best of him and he's done some 'research' (looked up pede porn) but none of it got him going like seeing his human shoeless just lounging around. Then he finds foot fetish content on the internet!!! And he's like 'wow....... These fleshies are such perverts who could ever find themselves self servicing to this slop?' and lo and behold he's nearly bulging out of his panels imagining his human in the pictures instead of the model.

And this continues for a while. Anytime him and his human get freaky, Starscream is always distracted. The way their toes curl or their legs shake in pleasure, it drives him up the fucking wall. And his human is like 'you okay, bud?' and Starscream is like mm never better while he's blue balling himself over some toes.

But his human suspects something more. And they suspect the worst. Maybe they just don't pleasure him, or he's losing interest. (VERY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER‼️) so they start sniffing around. They look for clues. They have an obnoxiously large magnifying glass too. But in reality they just scour his search history. They find the foot fetish content. And human is like. Not as bad as it could be. So they stew, and the consider, and they think, and they doubt, and they get insecure. Insecure that they can't fulfill a very normal fetish, but human has no idea where to start. So like any normal person they look more into the foot fetish porn that Starscream has procured. He likes stockings, and dangerously high heels that are sleek in design. He likes bare feet that are well maintained, pampered even. Likes the cutesy casual socks that look suspiciously like their own socks....... Oo this freak like feet and he's ashamed! is the big take away they get. And they love starscream so much, and the stuff he likes seems mostly tame! Why not? Why not indulge your big metal man's foot fetish?

and then that's exactly what they do. Idk how they obtain Louboutins but what's funny to me is that they use Megatron's credit card. I know it's unrealistic, but hey, anything for pretty bird man.

Anyways³.

Starscream's human obtains the Louboutins, and stockings, and replenishes their normal socks because those have been going missing too. But that's a story for another day.

They hide this stuff away, nervous but excited. They start out slow, incorporating more upscale footwear and during their night time routine, lotioning their feet and legs where they know Starscream is watching. And boy does he watch. (POP THOSE PANELS BOY I KNOW YOU WANT TOO.)

Now. I have concepts of what happens next, but that's where this lil drabble ends in my notes app, so I'm gonna freeball the next part.

Eventually, they put on the Louboutins and a slutty little secretary outfit (pants or pencil skirt, your pick) and watch a tutorial on how to walk in these things, and they are golden. They pick the perfect day for it too. They say megatron FINALLY decides to host a meeting for all his Decepticons for uh.... (Checks notes) Literally what ever reason. Battle plans and whatnot. And guess what! Starscream decides to bring his human for also! Literally whatever reason. And so does everyone else! So his human is perched on his shoulder, ever vigilantly watching over him (watching cat videos but shhhh) and those itsy, bitsy red bottoms are just. There! Resting against him so casually! He's distracted yes, but not distracted *enough*

His human is innocently crossing and uncrossing their legs. Starscream's fans click on but nobody says anything, not while Buckethead (laub u megsy) over there is talking. At this point, Starscream would be taking notes, but he just wants fleshie feet. Literally would do anything in this moment to whip it out and not be chastised for jorkin it to feet in front of his boss and subordinates. But he keeps and level head. He can mooch off Soundwave's extensive notes later.

Meeting adjourned. Now, his fellow Decepticons are mingling, sharing notes and opinions about the formerly discussed battle plans and what not. Starscream is anxious to hightail it outta there but his human makes eye contact with Megatron's human and now they just have to talk! They gotta catch up! They gotta make plans! And share silly videos! And compliment each other's outfits!

So now, like many other mechs, Starscream has to wait for his human to finish socializing. It's like moms at a little league game. Wine coolers are involved. (/j?)

Anyways⁴.

At this point, I'm just rambling, but I think I could turn this concept into a little fic. A foot fetishie fic☝🏻 hope u enjoyed my mindless thoughts and my run-on sentences.

Bye lol

Pleaseeee if you turn this into a fic send it to me. Even if unfinished, I need this

I'm a sucker for TFP Starscream going through it TM just because he won't admit his kinks

And tbh it cracks me up to hear about Starscream and Megan's humans chatting together. Straight up telling you Screamer's having a hell of an awkward time

Also something tells me he's into open-toe socks...

[earlysunshines]

heyy loved the teacher fic!!! idk if u were open to writing a smut chapter but I’d love to read how sana’s a sweet kindergarten teacher by day, freak in the sheets by night ;) the kiss scene was so well written, so hot but so sweet!! Also loved the part about Sana admiring the tattoos

In any case, I’m excited to read more Sana fics from you, whatever the plot!

sweet nothings

wife!sana x fem!reader

summary: comfy, heated mornings are the best way to start the weekend.

wc: 1.9k

warnings: fluff ; smut ; cursing ; mentions of food

a/n: hi hi anons, thank you for your kind words! i was writing this little drabble for sana and it had smut and fluff, I figured it would fit both your requests. (also, to the second anon, I'm not too good with headcanons and whatnot so I hope this is alright with you.)

also, first time posting something more intimate, lmk how you guys like it.

-

sana is usually the first to wake up, it isn’t any different this morning.

she’s cuddled up against you, her arm draped across you and her hand on your waist. sana has one of your legs trapped between hers, as if you were one giant teddy bear, and your other free leg is sprawled out on the queen-sized bed. your hand rests on her forearm as you sleep, and sana has her head on your other arm near your shoulder while your hand rests on her own shoulder.

sana takes in the faint scent of vanilla and jasmine as she lazily breathes against your chest, it’s a refreshing smell and it really suits you, she thinks.

she lazily pulls herself closer to your body, trying to steal the warmth that you radiate, because it's unusually cold for some strange reason, but she's too lazy to turn off the fan that is spinning above on the lowest setting, or pull the blanket that sits messily on the two of you to cover her fully.

a small mumble escapes your lovers' lips, more like a faint hum as she nuzzles her nose into the crook of your neck, which seems to make you shift in your slumber a bit. your hand that's on sana's shoulder pushes the woman closer to you, and your other hand moves to her cheek, rubbing softly instinctively.

sana smiles at the feeling, and she's slowly waking up while you seem to be falling into a deeper sleep.

you two lay there for a bit longer – it's a saturday morning after all.

sana decides that it's time to get up fifteen minutes later, or at least when she's a little more awake.

she moves away a bit and a groan escapes your lips, sana giggles softly. she makes her way over to your cheek, trailing kisses down to where your pulse point is, and down to your collarbone with the tattoo that's exposed from your oversized t-shirt sana had gifted you for your birthday a couple months ago.

you roll over and your eyes stay shut,

"sana..." you mutter, "five... minutes...?"

"baby, it's almost eleven."

"it's saturday..." you sigh, blindly reaching for her as she lifts herself off of you.

sana looks at you, and she swears she falls a little more in love.

your cheek is mushed into the pillow after you had rolled over, and she thinks you're so damn cute she's going to lose it if she can't make out with you soon.

sana decides to give you a peck on the forehead, your cheek, and your lips – only to pull the blanket away from you after.

"sana!" you gasp. your eyes are open now, and you're rubbing at them while groaning dramatically, sana laughs at you with your disheveled hair, eyes squinted, and the sight of you in only the t-shirt and panties because you were too lazy to fully change back last night.

you pout and she just laughs at you again, "come on baby we gotta get up."

"how are you not tired? you came like, five times, at least," you say with annoyance, though you're pretty proud at how nice and pleasing it was to have her lose herself to you the night prior.

sana hits you with a pillow, "and I still have more energy to get up lazy bum! come on, I'm hungry!" she whines. you scoff lightheartedly and throw the pillow at her face, using that as a distraction and quickly pinning her down on the bed,

it's a swift movement, a short moment, but sana already feels the familiar aching feeling between her legs.

"mmm, me too," you mumble, looking down at her trapped between your hands, and your right leg is in between her legs just barely making contact with her sweet spot. you bite your lower lip slightly, and sana already pulls you closer.

you both smile into the kiss, even laughing in between.

it isn't long before you trail your kisses down to her jawline, to the crook of her neck, making sure to nibble at the spot that always has her gasping. she's already panting and you lick and nip at her neck a bit more, just before pulling away quickly to slip her shirt off.

the shirt she had been wearing belonged to you, it was easy to slip off and you already had access to all of her after it was off. the marks that you had given to her were still present all over her, damn... you marked her good.

"i thought you would've at least put your panties back on," you laugh,

"oh shut up," she responds.

you laugh again before getting back to work.

your first thought is to immediately make your way to her tits, and so you do. your lips land on her left nipple, and a sharp moan is heard from sana as soon as you do so. your right-hand plays with her other tit, groping it, squeezing it – just the touch of your hands and fingers on her chest is enough for her to lose herself in the moment.

she's gasping, she's groaning, and it's the best fucking way to start a saturday morning.

you toy with the right tit again, and then it feels right for you to go at it with your tongue. sana is whimpering at the feeling, gripping at your already messy hair, making it even worse, but it's worth it because the feeling is just so damn amazing.

your lips and hands work at her chest for a while, but now you're craving something sweeter. and so, your tongue makes its way down sana's tummy slowly, swirling around her sensitive areas that make her twitch in surprise, sucking and nipping at them to make her call out your name out of breath.

sana's body is like a monument, like a piece of art, something that takes time to really savor fully. it's something you admire, love, cherish, and devote your all to.

you make your way down the beauty that you're so glad to call your lovely wife of two years, and the familiar sight of her center is right in front of you. you plant slow, sensual kisses on the inside of her thighs, her back arches a bit and you smile.

"baby, please." she whines, "need your mouth."

"mhm."

your tongue comes into contact with her clit, and her hand shoots back to your hair, pushing you deeper her head sinks into the pillows, eyes closing. she's losing herself to you and you're losing yourself as you go down on her, just as it has always been.

you've been sucking on her clit for a bit now, and your fingers have been assisting by plunging into her as you lash your tongue against her pussy.

"god, fuck- oh my god... baby i'm-" sana can barely make out a proper sentence, she's trying to encourage you and it's really fucking difficult while you're going at her like that.

if the neighbors didn't hear the two of you fucking for hours last night, they're definitely going to notice the way sana sounds when she completely comes undone.

her hips are grinding into your mouth, bucking towards you, and by the way her breathing gets heavier and the way she repetitively mutters your name, she's about to cum soon.

your fingertips tighten around her thighs, and you lash your tongue against her walls, and give her that last feeling on her clit that makes her moan so loudly you might actually get a complaint from your neighbors; i mean, it wouldn't be the first time.

sana's whole body jerks a bit, and she's trembling the same way she had last night when she had reached her high. she lets her body relax into the bed, breathing heavily again and closing her eyes as you taste the rest of what she had offered from her climax.

you pull away and wipe your lip with your thumb, looking at your wife with admiration and care as her heavy breaths return to her normal breathing pace. she's lying on the bed and motioning for you to make your way back to her. she kisses you messily, and she hums as she tastes herself off your lips. sana hums in satisfaction.

"oh now you're tired?" you tease, looking at the beautiful, disheveled sana before you. she nods with a stupidly cute smile, and you can't help but plant another kiss on her lips.

sana wraps her arms around your neck, lazily deepening the kiss as your tongues explore the familiar setting they're in. you pull away for a brief moment to mumble against her lips, "let's wash up?"

"one more kiss," she whispers,

"anything for you, lovely."

-

sana does some persuading (she kisses you on the lips once) and manages to convince you to carry her to the living room.

you set her down so she can lean against the counter, and the high(s) from last night and twenty minutes ago seem to take a toll on her as her legs tremble slightly. you snicker and she hits your shoulder playfully.

"you need crutches?" you joke, looking at her with hearts in your eyes.

"yeah, and i'll poke you with them if you keep it up."

"sorry, sorry love." you chuckle, and you make your way over to put a hand on her cheek, the other hand just above her waist. "anything my lovely wife would like for breakfast?"

"mmm i think it's a little too late for breakfast." sana giggles, staring at your lips, "but~ maybe waffles?"

"anything for you." you smile.

it doesn't take you long to whip up some waffle batter, your signature mochi flour waffles – one of sana's favorites. you make four waffles, two for each of you. sana makes some tea and cuts up some bananas, apples, and takes out some of the honey from the fridge.

you put two of the waffles on one of the two plates that sana holds, and the other two on the other.

"thank you chef." sana says before pecking you on the cheek.

"mmm I think the chef deserves another."

"maybe at the table." she says, and you pout before she rolls her eyes and gets on her tip toes to peck your forehead.

you two sit at the table in your shared apartment after sana finishes putting the fruit in a seperate bowl and adding honey to the waffles – extra honey on your waffles, just how you like it.

you hum as you sit down with sana, reaching for the utensils and handing her some of her own before she kisses your cheek again.

"I love you." she murmurs.

"i love you more." you respond.

"never." sana argues.

"you wish."

sana rolls her eyes again before you poke at the waffles on her plate, cutting a piece for and feeding it to her. she melts as she chews on the piece, you laugh at her and you feel so content, there's a warmth in your heart as you watch her.

you two eat together, a few words exchanged while you devour the breakfast made, and moments like these remind you why you keep breathing and living – it's all for her.

sana's face is so bare, and theres something about her cozy state that makes you fall in love with her all over again.

– there's a sudden knock at the door that breaks you out of your little daydreaming, sana turns to you with her left cheek a bit puffed out due to the food she's been chewing. you shrug and tell her to wait there, making your way over to the door.

there's a familiar face, the annoying old guy that lives next to you – he looks pissed.

"sana," you start, "it's the neighbors."

"not again."

[bigfatbimbo]

Hey there! @hazbinhotelmollykisser here yet again, with the promised bill rambles :)

Forgive me if the following words sound like nonsense, I'm trying lol

SO. I'll be covering the bill with a more powerful reader and sub bill because your works have changed my brain chemistry, masochist bill because I'M GOING INSANE AN I NEED TO BE SEDATED, and bill with a reader that likes to tease him (with a more powerful reader version and a just a human version) because I need to study his reactions to teasing like I'm Stanford studying like... Science + math = triangles or something.

・Bill x More powerful reader

So I actually made an entire oc for this literally as soon as I finished reading the og post, which I will refrain on ranting abt, but the idea of a reader that's more powerful than bill is fascinating to me.

Because like, he's bill so he's obviously gonna try to get under your skin, but imagine a reader that sees his attempts to annoy them and just... Like laughs? A reader that finds his attempts almost endearing? Reverting whatever bill did back to before with just a snap and maybe a passing comment about his mischief.

It would drive him mad I think, he'd be rlly annoyed and pissy about it.

Or alternatively, a reader that does get angry when he tries to annoy them, (a loud and aggressive angry or a quiet festering angry both yielding different reactions from bill) and Bill takes it as motivation to keep annoying you (and it's definitely only because he thinks it's funny and totally definitely no other reason).

(Holy shit this is already getting long)

・Sub!Bill

So obviously a brat right? Like very obviously? We all agree on that.

And this next bit will probably just be regurgitating your points because I can't stop having the same opinions as you,

I personally need to see any + every version of bill cipher getting taken down a peg. Like I need to just. Ruin his life a little. Like I need to cause him mental peril and make it up to him (but actually it's only for me) by making him beg for what he wants and not giving him anything unless he asks out loud because "well I'm not a mind reader" (more powerful reader probably IS but shhhh..)

I want him to cry and beg (as do most people who read your blog honestly)

・masochist bill

Thinking about the way that bill literally talks about going out of his way to inflict pain onto the bodies he "possesses" (? Idk if that's the word I should use) made me think. Like too much thinking too many thoughts, to the point that I at multiple points almost wrote a small drabble in my notes app about it. (I would've if I could think of any words to write down when I need them 😭)

But like he's definitely some kind masochist right?

I can't think of any scenarios for human reader he made a deal with and bill for this category but imagine with me pls, a HUMAN reader, that he made a deal with (is actively trying to manipulate), causing him PAIN somehow (directly or indirectly), and he... DOSENT MIND? because 1. He's gonna have a mental breakdown because of it probably, and 2. He dosent JUST not mind. It's like EXCITING but not normal exciting.

So basically he'd be freaking out.

And with a reader that's more powerful than him? I think it'd be clear as day. Going hand in hand with the angry reader that's more powerful than him thing above, he would absolutely get off on annoying them until they snap at him (specifically the snap at him part). And when reader notices, they're obviously gonna make fun of him because hes being pathetic lol.

I think I have run out of masochist bill words now so onto the next topic.

・tease reader (human) x bill

My main reason for bringing this up is I love the idea of the powerful bill cipher being.. Well, flustered.

Like maybe when it's triangle form bill its easier to hide for him but if it were human bill reader would be able to tell almost instantly probably.

And more opportunities to make fun of bill for being a pathetic little creature are always good :)

・tease reader (more powerful) x bill

OOWOWHEOEJEIEBSJBSISNDH I love this idea so so SO SO SOSOSOSO MUCH!!!3&:28&:9.

SO MANY MORE OPPORTUNITIES TO TEASE AND NOT GET KILLED :)

Like imagine with me, your teasing bill and he gets all "upset" and probably threatens you, you don't gotta back off, you infact can tease him even more for thinking that he can threaten you. Shheheheheheheh.

I think that's all my words, I seem to have run out.

I hope that big lump of nothing text (800-ish words 😰) was enough to make up for my sudden dissapearence after promising to talk about bill TWO WEEKS AGO

Forgive my probably dogshit spelling and grammar pls

and hope you have a good day/night/whatever!

IUAHAHSHSHSHSHHSHDHSHAHS I LOVE THINGS LIKE THIS IN MY INBOX!!!!! Because it’s like wow, you did all the work for me! 😊

Ugh, this is so good tho. I always love to hear your thoughts, you are one of my FAV anons!!!!!

[junkissed]

gentle

member | jun x reader genre | fluff, sooo much fluff, est. relationship, suggestive at one part so 18+ mndi word count | 0.9k words synopsis | jun's way of loving you is gentle. warnings | descriptions of female anatomy (only at the nsfw part and it's not very detailed), brief mentions of sex, this is soooo gross and domestic and sweet and that in itself is a warning notes | this is a super informal drabble & more of my weird romantic sappy prose bc i literally cannot be normal about him ever. i hope this makes somebody cry or like throw their phone against a wall in agony or something bc that is how jun makes me feel! pls feel free to scroll past if poetry-style stuff isn't your thing. or not. idk you're the reader i just write whatever the hell i want and right now i want to give jun a big fat sloppy smooch on his gorgeous forehead

jun loves gently. he loves by making sure your coffee or tea is ready every morning before you wake up. he loves by organizing your shoes at the door so you don't trip on them when you walk by. he loves by holding the sharp edge of a table when you walk by so it doesn't hurt you.

his kind of love is when he runs his hands along your body, along every part of you and making sure not a single inch goes without feeling how much he adores you. his love will always be there, cradling you against his chest and letting you hold him as tightly as you need. his love is clingy, because he wants to make sure you know he loves you every single second of every single day.

he loves gently by kissing your forehead while you sleep, kissing your cheeks when he makes you flush with his flirting, kissing your neck while he makes love to you, kissing your back while he's showering together with you, kissing each one of your fingers when you hold his hand, kissing the tip of your nose because he loves the way it always makes you giggle. he loves by kissing you every time like it's the first time, like he's finally won the honor of being called yours and he gets to celebrate it with a kiss to your lips.

he loves intimately, with kisses all over your boobs, holding them in his hands and pushing his lips against your soft skin and grinning with a lust that temporarily conceals his overwhelming love for you, but never overshadows it. he loves with kisses between your legs, ones that make you shiver and arch with pleasure and push his head away in desperate attempts to make it stop, though you want nothing more than for him to keep going. the same lips he uses to kiss your forehead and your cheeks and your neck and everywhere else; the same gentle, messy lips he uses to eat you out with whenever he begs you to sit on his face.

he loves gently in the way he likes to hold your hands during sex, the way he likes positions that face each other so he can look into your eyes and see how much love is contained inside them while he's inside you. he loves by switching positions without you having to ask, because he can tell you're getting tired in this position but he can tell that you're trying to hold on for him; he doesn't want you to. he wants everything to always be comfortable for you, satisfying for you, pleasurable for you, perfect for you. everything he does is always for you.

even when he's loving you roughly, you can always tell he loves you gently. a harsh slap to your ass, always with a warm palm caressing your stinging skin. a hand wrapped around your throat, always with fingers that never tighten past the point of discomfort. a grip on your hips so tight that it brings tears to your eyes, always with a careful hand to wipe at your cheeks. a vulgar name called out meant to degrade, always with a soft voice whispering in your ear how beautiful and perfect you are.

his gentle love is always nearby, even when it's not the focus. sometimes it lingers in the background, waiting quietly for the chance to wrap its arms around you and keep you safe when you need it. like a warm blanket on a cold night, or a cool fan on a hot night, always making everything just right, no matter the conditions. jun's love is like a warm bowl of soup when you're sick, never fully realizing how much you need it until you do, a spoonful cooled off to the perfect temperature so you don't burn your tongue, hand-fed by gentle hands that want to see you well again.

his love can be rambunctious, when he gets so excited he can't physically contain all his happiness and it pours out into the atmosphere around him. but even then, his love is still gentle, wrapping you up in his excitement right along with him.

his love can be childlike, innocent in the way he holds your hand and drags you along to show you something he found. his love is gentle in the way he stops to meow at every cat he sees, like they're long lost friends he hasn't seen in years and he's telling them that they need to catch up sometime over coffee and catnip.

his love is there in every big, toothy smile, every scrunch of his nose, and every fit of hysterical giggles.

his love is soft like the cover of an old book, worn thin from being used so much by loving pairs of hands. his love is like a book passed down throughout the decades, one that you were always told to handle delicately— you have to love him gently, too.

he loves you until the word love itself is worn out, lost its meaning from being repeated hundreds of thousands of millions of times, and even then it's still not enough to express everything he feels. he loves you in every language, in the ones he understands and the ones he doesn't, because even an infinite amount of words couldn't come close to describing his love. but, if you had to choose only one, you'd start with this:

his love is gentle.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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