#and so when he says that it's just really really weighty

[daistea]

Laios, Mithrun, and Kabru x Reader Headcanons

Word Count: 1,483

Falling In Love With You & Relationship Headcanons

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Laois

It takes a little while for Laios to realize the truth of his feelings, to be honest. He doesn’t have much experience with romance, and actually not much interest in it either, so he sees you as a really good beloved friend. 

He falls in love without realizing and spends quite a while having no clue that he’s in love. Everybody else knows how he feels and are impatiently waiting and watching for him to realize it too.

Laios thinks of you often. Between the pages of monster doodles and notes are very badly drawn doodles of you. (He’s made you a monster-sona, it's very cool, but he's too nervous to show you.)

Laios says the sweetest things without realizing they’re sweet. He’ll always tell you that you look nice. He’ll always make sure you’re well fed. He’ll always make sure you’re safe.

He spends a lot of time around you. A lot. He’s like your shadow, or a puppy at your heels.

He only realizes how he feels after a big event, such as you dying in the dungeon, getting hurt, etc… 

But even then, he’s not really sure what to do with himself. He starts to get more nervous and pulls away a little bit, but his actions with you also become more weighty and serious. His touches are more meaningful, he looks you in the eyes deeply often when he’s talking to you, he tends to put a hand on your back to lead you through the dungeon (though he gets flustered when he does that.) Laios basically starts trying to put more thought into how he acts around you, trying to be cooler or more charming, but this isn’t very sustainable because he’s not being himself anymore. This is probably fixed by someone in the party telling him to stop, or by yourself.

Laios is a clingy partner. He’s very touchy and unashamed about it. He doesn’t realize he’s touching you half the time, it’s just habit. He’s the type to absently draw circles on your thigh or hand. 

He isn’t particularly jealous, mainly because he doesn’t realize it when people are flirting with you unless they outright say it. Then he’s just worried about you, and how you feel. He can be protective though, he just doesn’t really know what to do if it’s a human threatening you. 

Buy this man a bouquet of flowers once and he’ll start thinking about marriage. He likes affection from you. 

Laios’s love languages? All of it. Every type. Gift giving and physical touch are big for him though.

You ask Laios for a baby and he just thinks for a minute… His cheeks are a little pink as he asks, “What kind?” Preferably human, you say. He tries to hide his disappointment but agrees nonetheless. 

Kabru

Kabru is immediately aware of what’s happening with himself. The very moment he hears you laugh and thinks to himself, “Wow, what a pretty sound…” He’s like haha hold up! No. 

Kabru is a charmer and knows how to handle people. I believe he’s been in very light, casual relationships before, but nothing serious. At first, he’d assume his feelings for you are light, like usual. Nothing to be concerned about. 

He starts getting the urge to dissect your thoughts and put each of them into little jars for him to inspect. He does not say this out loud and tries not to show it, but he stares a lot. 👁️👁️

His feelings for you quickly become a chess game that he’s determined to win. Unfortunately, you’re eating the pieces when he’s not looking. 

He worms his way into your life very subtly. One moment, he’s asking you how you feel about the weather, the next moment he’s urging you to spill your childhood trauma. It’s only when he takes a step back and asks himself, “Why do I care so much?” that he realizes how serious of a situation this is. 

Of course, Kabru cares about a lot of people. He likes to know things. But this is different. He wants to know every little detail about you simply for his good pleasure. Sure, he files it all away into neatly organized cabinets in his mind, but he has no intent to use that information for anything but your happiness. 

For example: Kabru will most definitely remember that offhand comment you made about preferring a certain table at that one restaurant you visited three years ago. He’ll make sure you get that table. He knows exactly what you’ll order too. 

When he’s wrong about you, though, it baffles but simultaneously charms him. 

You people-watch together. He can probably read lips, and he tells you what the people around you are saying. 

He needs to keep you away from the dungeon. Not because of anything you did, but because he might go a little mad if he doesn’t at least try to keep you away from that lifestyle. 

Kabru is chivalrous and kind. He kisses your knuckles a lot, like a gentleman. He puts his hand on the small of your back. He fixes your hair if it’s messed up. He isn’t much for pda, but it’s obvious you two are a couple with the way he often whispers to you, catches your eye, and smiles at you. 

He’s a blanket hog. He doesn’t mean to be, but he is. 

Jealousy isn’t a big thing with Kabru. Sure, he feels it, but he stays calm and will simply wrap an arm around your shoulder and start a conversation with the person flirting with you. He’ll end up actually making their acquaintance and have a relatively okay conversation. He's still jealous, but distracted enough for it to not consume him. 

Kabru's love languages are acts of service and physical touch.

You ask Kabru for a baby and he just laughs. He thinks you’re joking. After a moment, it sets in that you’re not joking and he gets flustered.

Mithrun

Mithrun is vaguely aware of what’s happening when he’s falling in love, it just doesn’t seem like something he needs to acknowledge, think about, or act on. He’s wrong. 

To be honest, he doesn’t believe he’s capable of romantic love. He’s wrong.

It starts out very subtly. Mithrun starts to take more notice of the little things about you; the color of your hair in the sun, the color of your eyes, how your voice sticks in the back of his brain and refuses to leave. Mithrun knows what this means, but he doesn’t really care at the moment.

Then, it starts getting more intense. Without meaning to, he notices the shape of your lips, the feeling of your skin, the sound of your footsteps… 

This is when he starts getting a little curious. Is this a desire the demon missed within him? Is this a new desire forming? Huh.

Pre-ending Mithrun chooses to ignore it because what’s the point? This results in some irritation for him, longing looks(he doesn’t look longing on the outside, but it’s there on the inside. What everybody else sees is just... a slight look of determination on his face. He has no idea he's making that face either nor does he really care.) and unexplained protective tendencies that shock the canaries and, occasionally, himself.

Post-ending Mithrun chooses to dig deeper because this is a desire forming and he wants to hang onto every tiny molecule of desire he possesses with all of his strength. This results in soft touches at every opportunity he has, willingness to do whatever you ask, and his constant presence with no discernible explanation. 

Are you dating? Nobody quite knows, not even you. 

Mithrun was naturally jealous and possessive before The Incident. He doesn’t get like that again until you come along, and then it’s like his old self wakes up a little. Just a little. He doesn’t make scenes or get emotional over it, but he will calmly walk up to somebody that’s flirting with you, touch their shoulder, then teleport them away from you.

 If someone asks what you are to him, he simply says, “Mine,” or “Does it matter?” with a straight face.

He can be seen frequently wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his head on top of yours if you’re shorter, or on your shoulder if you’re taller. 

On occasion, he will be caught with a small smile as he holds you. It’s rare, but it happens. What’s he thinking at those moments? No one knows. 

The canaries are incredibly nosy— aside from Pattadol— about your relationship, and Mithrun has no qualms about answering their invasive questions. 

Mithrun’s love languages are acts of service and physical touch. You’re the only one he likes touching. He doesn’t say I Love You often but he will definitely lean on you a lot and protect you even if you don’t need it. 

You ask for a baby and he calmly says, "Give me a week... What color do you want?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[wqnwoos]

warnings! marriage talk

the argument is well over now. compromises made, solutions reached — but for some reason, you and seungcheol are still on opposite edges of the bed, nothing but oppressive silence hanging heavy in the air between you.

seungcheol hates this.

he sneaks a glance at you. you’re laying flat on your back, staring up at the ceiling with folded arms and the tiniest of frowns tugging your lips downward. he wants nothing more than to smooth your forehead and kiss it away, but something sharp in his throat stops him.

frustration pricks at his skin, a sharp needle of confusion. why is this so hard? you’ve made up already. you talked it out like mature, responsible adults.

you roll over. facing away.

“baby,” seungcheol says, at last. he’s talking directly to your back; you don’t respond, but he sees your muscles tighten ever so slightly. there’s a weighty moment, and then you roll again, back to facing the ceiling. letting out a soft hum to show you’re listening.

something in him bubbles up; not anger, far from it. he looks at the curve of your neck and the tilt of your eyelashes against your cheek and he feels so much he thinks he might overflow; if love was a liquid, it’d be pouring out of him by the bucketload.

“i’m going to marry you.” he says it with so much vehemence it almost feels like a threat, but really, it’s a promise. something you’ve both promised before. “you’re it for me. forever.”

he watches the bob of your throat as you swallow, the shifting of your head to face him, with eyes that overflow. just like his.

“we’re going to have stupid fights and make up for as long as you’ll have me,” he adds with soft fervour, reaching for your hand. “i’m going to hold your hand as long as you let me.”

there’s a hundred more things on the tip of his tongue. they all fall short of utterance when you throw your arms around him with a choked up sound — he holds you without hesitation, and considers himself lucky to be the one to do that. to be the one who gets to argue with you and fix it after, and hold you without question, and catch your tearful declaration of “i’m going to marry the shit out of you, choi seungcheol”.

an / originally started writing this for a different member and then it took a life of its own. it’s so weird how words just do whatever they want i am literally never in control of anything i write

perm taglist: (sorry it’s formatted so weird!! the only way i could get it to work 😭) @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud

@tokitosun @hannyoontify @sahazzy @icyminghao

@nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts

@astrozuya @doublasting @yepimthatonequirkyteenager

@wootify @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng @strnsvt

@onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura

@iamawkwardandshy @twilghtkoo @yuuyeonie @lllucere @pearlesscentt

@sourkimchi @porridgesblog

[moonstruckme]

Poly!EMT!Marauders x reader where they are in an established relationship and she gets really hurt… I’m a slut for hurt/comfort and protective bfs

Thanks for requesting!

cw: bike accident, injuries, concussion

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

You don’t remember getting out your phone, but Remus answers on the second ring. 

“Hello?”

“I…um…”

The woman who’d stopped to help eases the phone out of your grasp, putting it to her ear. “Hello?” 

She starts to fill Remus in on what’s happened. A car moved into the bike lane, probably by mistake. They didn’t see you. You’d panicked, throwing yourself away from it and out of the road. You’d hit the ground hard. The car had kept going. You’re not sure you can move. 

Your body, the entire left side, is in agony, stinging and burning and throbbing all at once. The ground is cold, seeping through your clothes. Your head is warm, though. Fuzzy. 

“Dove?” There’s an insistent tapping at your cheek. “Dove, come on, lovely.” 

Your eyelids are impossibly heavy. Something pushes against a sore spot on your head, and a whine escapes you. 

“There you go, just open your eyes.” Remus’ face is in front of yours, his eyes flitting between your eyes and something else. “Good job. I need you to stay awake for me, okay?” 

You make a sound somewhere between a hum and a moan. 

“Do you know where you are?” 

You squint up at him. The sun filters through your boyfriend’s hair like a halo. “A car almost hit me.” 

Remus’ eyebrows draw further together. “I heard, honey. Can you tell me what day it is?” 

“Mhm.” 

He waits a second. “What day?” 

“What?” 

“It’s Tuesday,” the woman says helpfully. 

Her voice comes from over by the road. You try to turn your head to find her, to say thank you, but Remus stops you with a hand on your jaw. 

“Thank you,” he calls to her. “I’m just testing her for a concussion, though.” 

You think you see him roll his eyes when he turns back towards you. 

“Okay.” He sets a hand on top of your head, warm and weighty and reassuring. You close your eyes, savoring the touch. “Hey, eyes open.” There’s a gentle stroke at your cheek, then a hard tap. You look at him. “Sorry, love, you’ve gotta stay awake. James and Sirius are on their way, okay?” 

“They…” You feel your eyebrows pinch. “They’re at work.” 

“I know. They’re coming in the ambulance, to help.” 

You feel the beginnings of a groggy sort of terror. It chills your blood and clogs your airways. You don’t want to go to the hospital. You want Sirius and James, but you want them to take you home. You want the soft warmth of your bed, not needles and prodding and the harshness of all those sounds and lights.

“Hey,” Remus says. His thumb strokes at your temple. You hear a shrill wailing in the distance, coming towards you. “Hey, look at me—you’re safe, honey.” His eyebrows press close together as he looks into your eyes, imploring. “It’s going to be okay.” 

The ambulance gets there quicker than you can respond, or maybe you just sit in silence until it arrives. Time is moving oddly. Your breath seems to take ages to pass through your lungs, but in a blink Sirius is hopping out of the van, jogging to your side. 

“She’s got a concussion, definitely dislocated shoulder and likely broken wrist,” Remus calls as he approaches. 

“Got it.” Sirius crouches in front of you. “Hello, gorgeous. Rough morning?” 

“A little.” 

He grins, lopsided and a bit strained. “Looks like it. Well don’t worry, our first order of business is getting you on some pain meds.” 

“I don’t want a needle.” 

Sirius’ smile slips a bit. “Sure you do, dollface. Trust me, it’ll help.” 

“You’re going to be in so much less pain with an IV,” Remus reasons, still stroking your hairline. “You won’t even know it’s there.” 

“I don’t…” 

James comes over with a gurney. “How’s our girl doing?”

“Great.” Sirius takes the hand on your uninjured side, giving it a little squeeze. “We’re gonna need a splint and a sling, but she should be okay to move.” 

The boys don’t need much talking to coordinate, and a second later you’re being transferred onto the gurney. Remus and James hold your injured arm tight to your side, and still a muffled groan tears from between your teeth. 

“I know, sweetheart.” James kisses your forehead as they stand the gurney up. “I know, I’m sorry.” 

He’s holding something to your head. You try to look up at it, but you can’t. “What is that?” 

“This? It looks like, uh…a dish towel? Rem?” 

Remus shrugs, crawling up into the ambulance. “I knew she was bleeding, and I took what was on hand.” 

Bleeding. You had been bleeding, you remember. You wonder how much you’d lost. You feel a bit less foggy now, though still a bit dazed. 

“How bad is it?” you ask James quietly. 

“Not bad,” he tells you, looking at you as he says it so you’ll know he’s being honest. He helps Sirius lift you into the ambulance. “You’ll need a couple of stitches, but it won’t be horrid.” 

You must pale at the mention of stitches, because Remus gives you a sympathetic look, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. “Don’t worry about it right now, dove. I’ll be with you the whole time. I’m not on shift, so I can stay after the boys drop us off.” 

“Fuck that,” Sirius says, lifting the dish towel from your head to get a look at the cut. “I’m staying too.” 

“It’s been a slow day,” James agrees. “If they need us for anything, we’ll go back out.” 

Sirius huffs. “We’ll see.” He presses some gauze over your cut, taping it down. 

James goes to the window at the front, telling the paramedic driving that you’re good to go. You feel something cold on your arm, and look over to see Remus cleaning the crook of your elbow with a wipe just before Sirius blocks your view with his hand. He tilts your head back towards him. 

“Look at me,” he instructs. “You’re okay, baby.” 

You try to look back towards Remus, but Sirius’ hand is firm, keeping you still. 

“Let me tell you what’s going to happen,” he offers. “We’re going to give the pain meds a few minutes to kick in, then put your wrist in a brace. Our best bet for your shoulder is just to keep it still until” —You hiss as you feel the small needle pierce your skin, and Sirius’ brows twitch together commiseratingly—  “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’ll keep your shoulder still until we get to the hospital, and there, they’ll set that, stitch your head up, and give you a cast for your wrist. Sound okay, doll?” 

“Yeah,” you manage. 

He presses his lips to your forehead, letting them sit there for a second before pulling away. When he moves his hand, Remus has just finished taping down the IV. 

He runs his thumb over the delicate skin of your forearm fondly. “You’re doing so well, dove.”

“Thanks,” you squeak, and your vision blurs frustratingly. You press your lips together. 

“Hey, what’s up?” James’ tone is light, but you can hear the worry behind it. “Is it the pain?”

You shake your head, closing your eyes as tears slip down your face. You’ve got no good hands to wipe them with, an IV in one arm and the other limp and useless. 

“You’re alright.” Remus rubs your good shoulder. His voice is low and tranquilizing. “Take a breath.” 

“I—I can’t stop.” Your breath comes in embarrassing, ragged gasps. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry for anything, angel,” James says. “Just breathe.”

You try, filling your lungs as best you can with your eyes still squeezed shut. The hot tears remind you of the feeling of warm blood on your face, and that only makes you cry harder. Remus rubs your shoulder, murmuring quiet assurances. 

After a while, Sirius speaks tentatively. “The meds should be working by now,” he says. “Do you feel any better?” 

You sniff. You hadn’t even noticed the pain fading. “Yeah, I—I think so.” 

“Okay.” He thumbs at your tears almost apologetically. “We’re gonna use this blow-up thingy to stabilize your wrist.” 

“It shouldn’t hurt too badly,” James says, taking your hand in his, “but if it does, just give me a squeeze, okay?” He smiles. “You can break my hand a little if you need to. Then we’ll really be in this together.” 

You do your best to smile back at him. He looks like he appreciates it. 

“Deep breaths,” Remus reminds you as they pump up the splint. 

You tear up again and squeeze the ever-loving shit out of James’ hand, but it’s over quicker than you expected. Sirius kisses your hairline. 

“Now we’re just waiting,” he reassures you. “We can’t do anything else until we get there.” 

You’re relieved. “Hey, what happened to that lady?” 

“Who?” 

“The lady who was…she was there.” 

“The woman who helped you call me?” Remus asks. “She left.” 

“She did?” 

“Yeah, honey. Just before James and Sirius got to us. You don’t remember?” 

“Wait, was that the driver?” Sirius asks. “She didn’t stay?” 

“No.” Remus’ tone turns sour. “The driver didn’t stop.” 

You don’t have to look at Sirius to feel his ire. It comes off him like waves of heat. “Fucker,” he seethes. 

“Sirius,” James says warningly. 

“I think it was an accident,” you say, trying to calm him. 

“Hitting a biker is an accident.” Sirius’ voice is low and dangerous. “A careless, idiotic accident, but leaving them, without even knowing what happened, is fucking—”

“Sirius,” Remus says sternly. “Not the time, love.” 

Sirius looks at you, softening. “Sorry, doll, you know I’d never leave you. But after we’re done here, I’m quitting my job to hunt that prick down.” 

“Full time?” James asks curiously. “Like what, Liam Neeson or something?” 

“Exactly like that.” 

“Doesn’t seem like a great way to make money.” 

“You won’t cover my portion of the rent for a couple months while I avenge our cruelly maimed sweetheart?” Sirius is aghast. “Have you no sense of justice?” 

“Am I maimed?” you ask, part joking but part genuinely alarmed. 

“Of course not, love,” Remus assures you quickly. He shoots Sirius a vexed look. “Maiming implies a permanency that doesn’t apply here. You’ll be fine.” 

“I was really just talking about the injustice part of it,” Sirius admits. 

“I’d rather not be avenged,” you tell him. “I think I’d prefer it if we got to keep you, and you didn’t hunt anyone down or get thrown in prison or anything.” 

“Mmm, I’ll consider it.” He kisses just above your eyebrow. “Say I abandon my vigilante life, what could I do instead that would make you feel better?” 

“A hug?” 

“Let me see what I can do.” 

[monstas1ut]

Grown

NAMAMI KENTO x black!reader

Summary

__ black!reader is ravaged, stretched, and disciplined by her older side piece, Nanami Kento. there's no more "trying to work things out" with her boyfriend. not when this older, experienced man is fucking her raw.

Contains

__ size difference, thick reader, reader is cheating, impreg, raw dogging it, nanami smokes, oral fixation, sucking dick heavily, daddy <3, lots of teasing, almost caught

__ brown skin can be dark, light, medium color..whatever. brown is brown.. and it's gorgeous

__ a/n : not truly proof read(which means not really read by me a thousand times before posting. Sorry for any mistakes lol

Patience was a word that originated with the businessman well. There were many things that failed in his life, and yet patience is what drove him to success. It was a mere moral that he went by ever since that day. However, a sudden surge of intensity flowed through him like electricity. It began to nag at him every day, and it scratched at his insides.

It was an itch he somehow couldn’t reach.

It appeared overnight, and the itch would mentally drain him. He knew full well what the issue was, but saying it or admitting it would be his downfall. Everyday he’s tried to forget, shun, and or cause the thoughts to disappear. But he was losing patience with himself. It was hilarious really, but the funniest thing about it was that the root cause of all of this was… pussy.

As blunt and as pathetic as it sounded, the blonde knew all well that this was about pussy.

And this wasn’t any regular pussy.

It wasn’t just pussy.

It was your pussy.

The purest gold between your legs caused Nanami Kento to lose patience. Let’s not get it wrong, he knew he could have it on a silver platter. Nanami knew he could have it at his front door. The man knew he could have it on his balcony. But you were playing around a bit too much for him to snag you right back in. You’ve ignored his calls, avoided his messages, and you’ve surely blocked him from your socials. But this was all a facade and Nanami knew it.

You think a man as smart as him would fall for such nonsense? A few weeks ago you were just beneath him, begging, sobbing, and using that dreamy pussy to quench his thirst. You had no problem parting your legs for him, and you had little to no problem conjuring up a sore throat from giving him brain in his Rolls Royce.

That little boy who was your so-called “boyfriend” was surely the problem. And although you were in your twenties, and your boyfriend also happened to be the same age, Nanami was older. The experience flowed from him like water, and it showed in the ways he’d treat you. That boyfriend of yours was the problem. He showed little to no care towards you, and he’s the one who shacked up with another woman first. You just happened to retaliate a bit better. However you’ve now gotten back with him, and stopped contact with Nanami. That’s what was peeling at him day and night.

But the blonde was tired of games. It was all childish to him, and he’s a grown man with a grown ass dick, he has no time to waste. This was evident whilst he blew out the smoke from his cigar. The night was quiet and only the sound of a lame sitcom show in the background was able to be heard. The tv light glossed over Nanami’s large, weighty hand as it laid on your head. And the sloppy saliva and pre cum surrounded the base of his pole of a cock. The cigar in his hand was laid in the tray on the table near the couch, and he fully relaxed in his position.

“That seems better… Do you not miss it in your throat..?”

There was much tease behind each word, and frankly a load of annoyance. Nanami could contain his emotions well, but with the way he began gripping at your well glued frontal, you knew he was utterly pissed. His fist was full of body wave curls, and you were filled with his girthy cock. It was wrong, yes, but when he invited himself inside of your home and demanded answers, it came to this. There was no answer, you missed this. You wanted this.

You truly needed this.

“Tell me.” With the assertive tone that slipped from his lips, you stared up into his eyes, finally able to breathe as he pulled you off his drenched cock.

“Yes… I m-missed this big dick in my throat daddy..” you practically choked this out with a sob as your throat already felt the raspy tingles. Your lower face was covered in saliva and it was dripping from your chin. Nanami enjoyed seeing that, however he wanted to mess you up. He needed you to be absolutely helpless after this, so helpless and needy that it would be obvious that you got some dick.

“I would like to believe it.”

“I did!….I really really did..” you whined, knowing you sounded far from bratty, even though that was your frame. You were sassy, confident, and sometimes even bitchy, but here you were using your pretty plump lips to drain his cock as best as you could. Your hands were near the base of his cock as you twisted them lightly. Your head bobbed up and down and in a slight circle as your eyes gently rolled. There was something about sucking this man’s dick that made your pussy so profusely wet. You just enjoyed making it sloppy, and you also enjoyed when he’d moan.

Your soft gags are what gives nanami a surge of energy, it gives him a surge of dominance as he lets his head fall back on the back rest of the couch. He could feel one of your hands disappear and it be replaced with the feeling of your tight throat. You were going deeper and deeper just for him, and your throat could barely take it.

All he did was come here to your home for answers, it surely ended up in an argument, but then ended up in a different type of fight.. Now he was about to leave as a soon to be father because he just knew you were about to be knocked up. It was inevitable.

“Shit…” Nanami bit down, baring his teeth behind his lips as he looked down at your messy face. You drooled on his cock before quickly moving your hands up and down his cock. Your pretty brown breasts jiggled underneath your tank top as you did so, entertaining the male just as much as your pink, duck shaped acrylics that decorated his cock.

“Put it back in for me” Nanami’s voice was still stern, it always was, there was always authority running through it. It caused you to not think twice about anything, so of course you put his cock right back in your now slightly, sore throat.

“You listen to everything I say because you are so cock driven, so blank from the pleasure. Even if I demanded your body in front of your little boyfriend you’d still do it.. now wouldn’t you?”

No response, only your whimpers and half nods gave him his answer as you were drowning in the sexiest cock ever. The veins, the pink tip, the large filled balls that were hanging low from the audacity he held. This was no regular man, this was a grown man with only purpose.

His aura was far from plain, it gave off such strong power and confidence in his ability. This is what will cause a bratty girl to fall into the deep end, a grown man. A grown man with a certified big dick, and you could take it. This is why the blonde needed you. Pretty, confident, yet eager to become submissive towards him and him only. No woman would suck dick like this if they didn’t feel submissive.

The way you slurped it, the way you rubbed it on your cheeks before slipping it back in your mouth. Nanami enjoyed it so much that he felt himself slipping into a peak of excitement.

“You must crave my cum with the way you are acting, dear.” The man actually smirked at your state. He enjoyed seeing you this way. Your energy towards other men was a dominant force, hard to get, and more of a ‘hot girl’ as one would call it. It was quite funny when he’d look back on it, especially now.

His veiny hands, filled with pure strength, pulled gently at his tie. He slipped it off and began to undo his buttons on his blue dress shirt. One thing led to another in such simple fashion, and the older man pulled you from his cock, watching the saliva drip and string from your bottom lip. You looked all helpless and adorable… especially messy.

“I will give you what we both need. How’s that sound?” Nanami seemed genuine, and there was a part of him that truly was. But you doubted him the moment he clenched your hair again, his face moving down to hum in your ear.. “hm…?”

Swallowing the underlying fear of how sore your throat will be, you also felt how drenched you were becoming. “Yes sir…” you whispered, watching him move and straighten his posture as he stood before he gripped the base of his cock with his other hand.

You could see every detail of this man, and in this moment before he shoved his hard cock in your mouth, you could see that slight smirk at the corner of his mouth. His glasses were discarded before all of this even occurred, so you could fully see how his eyes even spoke of command. His blonde hair was intact, barely a hair out of place. His skin was airbrushed yet as well as having the sharpest jawline you’ve ever come across.

And this man adored you. He adored those sweet lips and he adored the brown sugary skin that would rub against him. He was far from using you, he was pouring into you. And with the way his cock was now thrusting into your throat, you knew that physically he was soon about to pour into you.

“Your little boyfriend will be coming soon is he not..? A shame that he’ll see you’ve craved my cock again. Maybe this will teach him to be a bit more faithful…” Nanami spoke in a matter of fact type of tone, fairly nonchalant as he watched the tears fall down your face from gagging on his third leg. You could feel it twitch and become harder right then, and you knew he was close to his peak… all of the pleasure you’d given him before hand really riled him up.

“And Maybe this will teach you to listen to me a little more” he actually grumbled that part as his hips moved back and forth, only gripping at your hair tighter to keep you in place. He couldn’t speak much longer without letting out a moan or a breath of air. He would give out firm groans, as well as deep breaths as he watched your pretty eyes roll back. That’s what did it.

It was as if a balloon popped in your mouth. The sudden, thick substance practically coated the back of your tongue, threatening to side down your throat. That’s before he pulled you off and let the rest of his salty sperm fall right on your gorgeous, brown, sun kissed face.

The sexiest thing about it was how willing and how far you’d let him go. His white, thick cum was mainly around your lips, but yet fell on your soft, fluffy eyelash extensions.

A little shaky sigh came from Nanami before he fully composed himself. The wave of pleasure was still passing over him, but he needed to release the rest of the energy you’ve given him. Ever since that nagging feeling hit him over the head, it’s felt like he’s been edging himself this entire time. He didn’t need to do that anymore, not when such a pretty, thick doll was in his possession.

“I think we both realize that I cannot just let you go. Your boyfriend may have had you back, but only for a bit of time. You’ve always known where home was… So come back to me..” nanami effortlessly picked you up from the floor, only fluttering your heart more as you were spoken to in such a dreamy manner. Your back gently touched the couch cushions, and you could truly see how much larger this man was towards you. His muscles ranged. They were large, thick, and far from simple. Each vein was quite prominent and it looked like you could cut them with a piece of paper.

“I won’t ask again, I will only do. And as far as I can recall, you enjoy being taken.”

What you hated was that the older man was correct. His ways of disciplining you, taking and fucking you were the first things you could think of in the morning, even while your boyfriend would be next to you. It was naughty, but it was the truth. That’s why you slowly nodded your head to his words, parting your lips.

“M’sorry…”

“Yes… Yes we both understand that. However, I’d rather see actions than hear words…”

Nanami teased, making sure to make you feel every emotion about this situation. Worry, disappointment, arousal, anger, submission. There were things you couldn’t explain but if you could explain this in one word it would be : ‘control’. Nanami was out of control, yet in control of everything he touched, especially you.

It was obvious in the way you slowly parted your legs, revealing your unfathomable vulnerability. The largest damp spot between your legs, it seeped through the thin, gray shorts that you wore to bed. Sucking Nanami’s cock was enough to do that, and he knew it. He could tell you enjoyed it very much.

“Good girl, lovely job. Actions speak louder than words do they not?”

While speaking such naughty words, the male let his head slowly fall in between your legs. The heat from your gentle pussy caressed him before he kissed the wet spot. “Usually I’d be gentle with you when you’re fairly good… but you’ve caused me to have the most intense lack of sleep.” Nanami huskily whispered as he trailed his rough hands up and down your juicy thigh. There was almost a soft smile on Nanami’s face as he could remember the times you have been good per say.

But today? His smile disappeared ever so slightly, and he gripped your legs before licking his lips. “Turn over.” He demanded as he helped you slide and turn to being on your knees. Those thin grey shorts rode up between your crack, so there’s no way nanami was going to rip them off, that was just extra time. What was better was him sliding them to the side. The soft smell intoxicated him as well..

“Good…” Nanami spoke like silk when he said this to you, and you felt like a feline in heat. All you saw was regret in your future, but you were still here with a nicely arched back. Your ass was large and it had Nanami flustered beyond belief every time he got to see it in its full glory. It was quite obvious how he felt about it, considering that’s the first thing he grabs when sliding in.

Nanami unfortunately didn’t have any remorse for you, and you were quite wet anyway. It’s not that you were being treated like a whore, he was simply treating you like his whore. There was a distinct difference.

And the second that fat, pink tip slipped past your dark lips and into your gushy pussy, you understood. Nothing came close to the feeling of him sliding in with ease, like a puzzle piece. He molded your pussy with his cock plenty of times, and that’s why it fell into place. Of course you were his whore, you were his only whore, that’s why he couldn’t let you go.

“Fits just right, I highly doubt he can fill my spot. You’ve had me for too long, y/n…” of course he had to tease you about it, his hands softly running around your hips and your ass. His thumb hooked on your shorts, holding them to the side so he could make sure to see that pretty pussy even more as he gently began to move his hips. This made him bury into you even more, and that made you want to tap out right then.

“N-..Nanami… ooh fuck~” you whispered this, and he could still hear you. And with his other hand on your lower back, he knew you were just losing it. The wetness from you coated his cock well, and it made it so slick that he slipped out. To be fair it surprised him a little, he’s a large man, and to squeeze and slip him out like that?

Oh you were undoubtedly wet.

“Put it back in, show me how badly you want it, love” there was a sweet softness to his words, and it was far from teasing this go around. He however, awaited you to do exactly what he asked of you. Luckily things didn’t have to get rowdy because you happily followed through with grabbing his pulsing cock. It throbbed, feeling like it almost had a heart beat before you slipped it back in easily.

The feeling was too strong and difficult to simply explain. The way elevator doors opened, the way water splashed through a river, both of those things mixed together explained the sensation at hand. And with each gasp, you felt yourself losing the thoughts completely.

That large pole began digging into you while you felt your mind slip. Nanami could see it in your body movements and the way you tried to release the arch in your back. However, he pushed the hand he had on your back, down. While arched even more, your pussy juices dripped onto the couch. Nanami enjoyed feeling every inch of your hole, as well as the lustful liquids you produced. Wearing a condom was far from what he wanted, and of course you wanted nothing to do with one either. Careless, yes… but he’s already established that he has to trap you some way or another.

This was a mission to knock you up. Nanami hadn’t thought about it until now. He’s completely changed his tune from annoyed to devious. As a grown man, sure he dislikes playing games but playing with you seemed to be the funnest thing he’s been a part of.

He was fucking a pretty babe with an ass so fat that it was as if it was hypnotizing him. The way it recoiled and jiggled for seconds later whenever it hit his pelvis. Or, when he’s pounding in it and it claps against him. Your back shots sounded like heavy office doors slamming, and that was quite loud. That mixed with the pleasant, precious sounds that released from you was golden.

“Daddy!… oh fuck-.. oh fuck daddy stop.. t-too much.. too much of that big fuckin’ dick~!” There was a soft lingering scream coming from you after you tried to talk through those moans. You could feel your insides clenched around that length of his, and you were so tight you didn’t even want to let him continue.

Nanami couldn’t have that, no. His hand forced your shorts fully to the side, stretching them with popping noises making it clear that he’s stretched them out. While doing that, his hands moved like butter to your waist and he leaned forward just a tad. But yet the way he hovered over you, it felt like you were being overtaken. Your chest was on the cushions, but your stomach was hovering. Your ass was perfectly high and your arch was a god’s gift.

“We can’t have that… open up for me.” Nanami sounded almost animalistic when asking you to open up. He wanted you to relax and simply take his cock till he cums. And you knew he wasn’t going to stop until then, which was obvious since he began to thrust more at a downward angle.

This angle was quite the difference, quite the contrast from before. This man was hitting a completely different part of your pussy, and he knew this. His smirk hesitated but stayed once you gripped and slightly tore at your soft couch. “please!?… please~?.. shit!” You breathed in sharply through your teeth, your pretty, glossy eyes rolling back with pleasure.

You were so consumed in the sex that you could barely hear any noise outside. There was a non literal window to the outside world and you were stuck being ripped in two by grown dick. The blonde man had his ways, and he was so physically and mentally powerful that he caused you to blatantly ignore the ringing of your phone and the firm knocks on the door.

It wasn’t rocket science to figure out who that was, and yet you couldn’t care. There were bigger things to worry about. Bigger, thicker and sexier things. Nanami happened to be just that, and he had your full attention and your full body.

“Your little boyfriend has arrived…” Nanami grinned this in your ear, and yet you spoke out something you thought you’d never say. The dick felt so good that you lost yourself for a while.

“I don’t care-.. fuck- I don’t fucking care daddy..”

“J-Just keep beatin’ my pussy up~” you slurred, moving your hands to open your pretty cheeks, revealing the tight hole the pale cock was inside of. Something Nanami could never get tired of..

“You do not have to inform me of that… inform him how badly you want me to ‘beat it up’ when I open that door myself.”

ⓒ Monstas1ut , Do not copy

[magicpotatothoughts]

TGCF reread new finds #1

Xie Lian actively and consciously knows that he is attracted to HC the MOMENT THEY MEET in the Ox Cart. Like it’s not just blank gay panic, he knows.

His beauty was deadly like a sword, sharp and mesmerising. Xie Lian only met his eyes for a moment, then lowered his eyes in defeat.

MATE, normally wouldn’t you continue to be mesmerised and can’t peel your eyes away? That is, UNLESS YOURE WHIPPED. XL knows that SL's looks affect him to this degree. Defeat is the key word here.

Also

The distance between them had closed too fast. he suddenly didn't know what to do[...]Xie Lian blanked on the spot. He watched as the tall and slender youth walked away with his giant bag of junk as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, and it made him mutter inwardly, Forgive my sins.

Making a rich young lad carry your things? Making him sleep in your crappy temple? That doesn't warrant the weighty thought? FORGIVE WHAT SINS Xie Lian??!!!

Many village girls saw (HC) and blushed [...] Xie Lian didn't know what they were going to ask, but felt instinctively that it must be stopped at once, and cried, "No!"

Jealous jealous boi! XL WAS POSSESSIVE after ONE night spent together at Puqi Shrine. Didn’t XL just say to SL that he will have no problem in the love department because girls will throw themselves at him? Yo, why are you cock-blocking? Everyone says HC is insane, no XL is equally insane for the other!

Also, when HC revealed that it's his real skin after the Banyue arc, XL instinctively poked him. Then

He looked at his own finger then hid it away, betraying nothing of his thoughts.

What thoughts XL ?!! Explain yourself right now!

Jumping back to OX CART scene, Xie Lian's character development was foreshadowed when they were talking about the gifting of ghost ashes.

Book 1: Xie Lian sighed. "It certainly is painful to think about, to have given everything for love and lose everything in return."

This is what Xie Lian is most afraid of! Like even thinking back to Xie Lian pushing Feng Xin away in Book 4, he definitely operated under that mindset. Love is a risk, it's something to be feared. Even now 800+ years later, he still feels that way and doesn't allow himself to get close to anyone. It just hits so much harder thinking that he operated under that for so many centuries.

Then Hua Cheng says

"What there to be afraid of? If it were me, I'd have no regrets giving away my ashes"

Which I think really changed the way that Xie Lian thought about love. Book 5 Xie Lian completely operates with Love is empowering and isn't something to be afraid of.

TGCF isn't about XL realising his feelings, literally from Book 1 it's about him wondering if it's worthwhile to act on them.

Three things, is this person worth losing cultivation over for?

He needs the reassurance that this person must reciprocate his feelings.

Then HC changed his perspective on love from FEAR -> EMPOWERMENT.

XL is soooo self-aware (unlike SQQ from SVSSS and WWX from MDZS), he's an unreliable narrator in the way that he doesn't reveal everything to the reader, especially his own feelings until he was absolutely sure that there really was both a physical and romantic attraction. I wanted to make this post to dispel the assumption for XL it was easy to forego 800+ years of cultivation. It was not? He ABSOLUTELY thought about it carefully.

[shookuna]

a short drabble - juuuuust thinking about falling in love with yuuta.. :')) nsf(w) ment, yuuta pining, honeymoon phase to love love wc: ~500!

yuuta really was the perfect boyfriend.

not that this should have come as a shock to you - he was doting on you even back when you were just friends. ever the gentleman, yuuta would walk you to and from class every day, making sure you were safe and comfortable every step of the way.

"are you okay? are you cold? do you need to borrow my jacket? o-oh, your hands are f-freezing... here, let me warm them up for you."

you tried to relieve him of this obligation every once and a while, not wanting him to worry for you so much. but every time, he'd simply wave off your concerns by saying how it really was no trouble, your dorm was on his route anyways. (it wasn't. he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.)

when you think about it now, you feel so silly for ever doubting if he liked you back then. even before you agreed to go out with him, yuuta was already treating you like a lover.

his one and only.

at first, the love you shared with yuuta was light, airy, refreshing. somewhere between a schoolgirl crush and budding affection. the more you opened up to him, the more you felt... well, giddy! like a swarm of butterflies was erupting in your chest, leaving you weightless. his love was threatening to sweep you off your feet, and you were ready to close your eyes and enjoy the fall.

and fall you did. as weeks turned to months, you and yuuta stayed together, growing closer, more intertwined, by the day. the bond you shared still felt effortless, but somewhere along the way there was a meaningful change. maybe it happened when you met his friends for the first time, when despite all the clamor around you two, he kept his hand rested on your knee the whole night. like you were the single most important thing in the room to him.

maybe it happened during one of the lazy mornings you spent together, grabbing breakfast from the corner café or cuddling on the couch. you could see the way the hazy sunlight grazed his face, as if even it was afraid to mar something so perfect.

or maybe it happened during one of the nights nights you spent with him, intimately. after you were left spent and satisfied, lazily tracing constellations on his bare skin to map out every inch of his body. when he thought you had fallen asleep, he whispered such sweet words full of so much heart and longing that you ached.

you weren't exactly sure when things changed, truthfully. when the love you felt for him morphed from something whimsical and enchanting to something heady, intoxicating, all-consuming. no longer light, but almost painfully weighty now, reminding you of its presence with every breath you took. you knew now that a life without yuuta wasn't one you wanted. sometimes, it was just unbearable to be so in love with another person, no matter how easy it was to fall for them.

a heart's a heavy burden, after all.

but for yuuta, you'd carry it again and again.

© shookuna ! (peep the ghibli mention teehee)

[yueliie]

🎐.お茶 — your tears ft s.haruka, s.hayato, u.hajime

୨ৎ — ♬ ⌨️ᶻᶻᶻ : yue is typing... ✉! ୨ৎ — ↻ SYNOPSIS : when you are having a bad day, how does he comfort you when you're at your lowest? ୨ৎ — ♯ GENRE : fluff, fem!reader ୨ৎ — ↠ NOTE : this is my first time writing for windbreaker and I haven't finished the anime yet but I fall in love with the series almost immediately so yeah, I couldn't help myself but want to write this fic:DD pls go easy on me though, I'll read the manga after i finish the anime first so feel free to request anyone really even if I don't know them yet!! also if anyone wants to talk about their selfships like me rn, PLS TELL ME THE DETAILS SJHDKDVF I WOULD LOVE TO KNOW OVER SOME TEA AND COOKIES, YEAH?? also hopefully I did their characteristics right! Sorry if some of them are ooc TT ୨ৎ — ♪ REMINDER : reblogs & likes are appreciated, its help to motivate me, thanks for your support~ ୨ৎ — ► ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : your tears ft s.haruka , s.hayato & u. hajime...

۫ 🎐.お茶 — sakura haruka

꣑ৎ Sakura doesn't know how to comfort someone properly, with his past, how can he knows how? But then he saw you by the river in distressed mood.

۫ ꣑ৎ He widen his eyes when he saw your tearstained face, slightly on edge but approached you with careful steps.

۫ ꣑ৎ Then, he quietly sits down next to you, and didn't mutter a word, scared of upsetting you even more when you were already emotionally unstable.

You immediately knew it was Sakura when he sat down next to you yet instead of asking you why, he stayed quiet. He probably sense that you didn't feel like talking at the moment, whatever the case is, you were glad he didn't question why you were there in the first place.

His presence was more than enough, it was better having someone there instead of crying alone, it was better than nothing. Then, you felt a sudden weight on you, it's caught you off guard that you looked at him with awestruck.

"I-It's not like I want to help you or anything—" His cheeks flushed red, his eyebrows frowned but he was stumbling over his words just trying to get the message across, it was a funny yet endearing sight to witness.

Your lips curled upwards, letting out a few sniffles, clutching his gakuran jacket close, the remaining of his warmth was still lingering yet you found it so comforting, a feeling that was hard to describe in words but if you had to compare it to something...that warmth feeling was fairly similar to when you drink hot cocoa on a cold day.

You didn't says anything, instead you place your head on his shoulder, flinched at the sudden weightiness on him, then you whispered "Can I stay like this for a moment...?"

"... whatever " He tch'ed, the tips of his ears turned red.

🎐.お茶 — suo hayato

۫ ꣑ৎ It was raining when Suo found you, sitting on the children swing set, completely drenched from the heavy rain. However, you didn't make an effort to move and look for any shelter nearby.

۫ ꣑ৎ He approaches you slowly, not to startled you with the announcement of his presence and when he was close enough, he puts his umbrella over you.

۫ ꣑ৎ Shocked, you snapped your head towards him with widened, alerted eyes and that was when he knows that you were crying your heart out in the rain.

"...Suo?" You blinked your eyes in disbelief, distressed and suddenly you found yourself choking on your words, trying to make up an excuse for your drenched self "I-I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were here..."

You tried to stand up but when you did, your legs buckles and in a matter of seconds, a sickening sense of no longer being supported by your feets took over, you suddenly found yourself facing forward.

Then, you felt being picked up by someone, you didn't need to look up to know that it was him who caught you from falling. However, the realization of your position was... embarrassing per say, with your face pressed against his clothes and the ways he has his hands on you, he was holding you as if you were glass that could break from a small impact.

He was supporting you so dearly and cherished so preciously that the umbrella he was holding earlier was long forgotten now, if by any chance that a random passerby walked in and see this, they would think that it was a couple hugging each other in a public park. The thought cause your heart to pick up the speed.

"I-I'm sorry... because of me, now you're—" You tried to speak up but a finger was pressed against your lips, successfully stopping you in your tracks.

"It's fine, for now, let's get out of this rain, alright?" He grabbed a hold of your hand and gives a chaste kiss on your ring finger "We can't have you catching a cold now"

🎐.お茶 — umemiya hajime

۫ ꣑ৎ That day, when you weren't feeling your best, you didn't know why the first thought you had was to go to the rooftop where Ume was tending to his garden.

۫ ꣑ৎ When he heard the loud creaking left behind by the metal door, he snapped his head towards you with a bright smile but then, his smile dropped when he saw the state you were in.

۫ ꣑ৎ He immediately dropped everything he was holding and approached you with open arms, gently bringing you close to his chest.

He smelled like soil, distinctive, earthly scent that comes with and after the rain. On any other days, you don't like it but today, for some odd reason—It was a pleasant odor and being in his arms was so... comforting like it was just right for you to be there.

Then, with a gentle voice, he whispered a couple of 'its okay' 'you did good' , you could feel his large hand patting your back as his warm breath tingled your ear as he continues to says those sweet words that you need to hear and before you knew it, your vision blurred with tears.

"Shh... It's okay, you don't have to talk about it" He looked at you with kind eyes, the same ones he always gives whenever you make eye contact with him yet there was something in that blue pools of his always have this weird calm effect on you.

You tried to say a few words but found yourself choked on it instead, your hands clutched onto his shirt tightly, refuse to let go as if he was your lifeline, like you couldn't breathe without him there with you. He brushed your bangs away to reveal your forehead before placing a soft yet quick kiss.

Your cheeks burned, flustered as you pressed your face against his chest and there come a series of pleasure chuckles, that earthly scent, the sound of his heart beating, the feeling of his arms around you and the slight weight of his head above yours... Everything about him was soothing, just being around him was enough to wash away all of that pent-up emotions that bottling up deep inside you.

And suddenly, you didn't feel like crying anymore.

© yueliie 2024. do not steal, copy, repost, edit, translate or use my works.

[stevieschrodinger]

There’s a quiet beeping noise. It’s very regular and kind of annoying; but then Eddie fucking hates the ticking of clocks. Finds them impossible to ignore once he’s heard it.

He shifts, and then almost immediately stops because fucking ow.

Ow. Well this is shit.

Eddie hums in agreement.

The mattress made a terrible creaky noise; like it’s plastic, and the air smells like disinfectant. Oh. Hospital. Which means holy shit, he’s alive.

Well, I sure as fuck wasn’t expecting this.

Eddie hums again, blinking open gummy eyes. It’s dark other than a rectangle of light on the popcorn tiled ceiling; shining through the door from the hallway. It’s a pretty average hospital room, except for the glaring anomaly that is Steve Harrington, snoring gently in an arm chair.

Holy shit, is that Harrington?

“Yeah-” Eddie starts to answer out loud, and then finally realizes that he’s answering someone. His voice is fucked and his mouth is dryer then Gandhi's sandals, but he still tries, “errr…who are you?”

Wait, you can hear me??

Eddie tries, really hard, to think loud thoughts, firstly because his throat is fucked and it hurts to talk, and secondly because he doesn’t actually want to wake Steve, yes?

Holy shit. It’s me. I mean. Hargrove. Billy Hargrove.

Well...fuck. I thought you were dead?

No. No, I just kind of got...absorbed. Like I was in the, you know, in that place with everything else.

The upside Down.

Whatever. But then Henry died. We all felt it when Henry died. And I was just kind of...loose.

You knew his name?

We all knew his name.

Which is not a terrifying thought like, at all. Especially not with how weighty the thought is when Hargrove delivers it. We all knew his name. Holy shit.

And then there was you and I saw my chance. I was so sure you were going to die, and I figured if I was in there, you’d take me out with you.

Oh. Well I was kind of assuming that I was dead, considering I now have the ghost of Billy Hargrove talking at me from in my own head.

Yeah. Death is a pretty solid explanation for me too. Think the afterlife could do better than this, though. Eddie can feel it when Hargrove yawns. Can feel that they’re both tired. Tries not to be vaguely offended that the inside of his head isn't good enough for Hargrove. Why is he here?

I dunno man, I mean, I was kind of with them at the end you know, I was part of the plan. Maybe he feels responsible or something.

Eddie can feel Hargrove turn that one over, what do you think he’s dreaming about?

Wet tee shirt competition, Eddie answers instantly and without thought, can feel Billy snort a laugh, can sense his amusement clearly.

Being Prom king? Sinking the winning ball?

Being asked to judge a wet tee shirt competition because he’s prom king?

Hargrove sniggers again, but then becomes thoughtful, you’re taking this really well. What if it’s like, permanent?

Eddie yawns, ask me again tomorrow. He's way too tired to deal with this.

It takes four days for Eddie to be able to actually stand alone long enough to take a piss in an actual bathroom, which is amazing. It's four days of having his life choices sometimes critiqued by Billy Hargrove, but it isn't the worst. At least they're on first name terms now, and Billy has been surprisingly sensitive when it comes to Eddie's recovery.

The first piss after the catheter came out was pretty fucking unpleasant, but not being alone for this stuff has actually been okay. Having Billy saying ow ow ow in the back of his head during that first piss had made it somehow more bearable. At least he's not suffering alone.

And he’s so done with pissing into those funny little bottle things and then enduring the mortification of handing it to someone.

You’re feeling pretty pleased with yourself over this.

“Yeah well, some of us enjoy pissing in private,” Eddie grumbles back.

When he turns to wash his hands, he squeals and nearly knocks everything off the counter. He then whimpers in pain, because he turned way too fast.

“Eddie? You okay?” Steve asks, knocking on the door.

“I’m fine. I’m fine man. Give me a minute,” Eddie looks over the bathroom. The empty bathroom. But no, no, he definitely saw- Eddie turns slowly back to the mirror, and there, leaning against the wall, “Billy?” Eddie breathes.

He looks over his shoulder again, just to make sure, but nope. He’s still definitely alone.

What?? Can you see me?

Billy moves, standing next to Eddie. He looks...good. Clean. Perfect. Blue jeans and a white polo with the collar popped a bit, gold chain around his neck. He looks exactly like Eddie remembers. “I thought you were like, inside my head?”

I am. I mean. I thought I was but...I can see me too.

Steve knocks, “Eddie? You talking to yourself man? You’re taking a while-”

“We should go, before he can untwist his panties, we can...check this again, later?”

Yeah. Yeah, later.

Part Two

[writingforstraykids]

Always back to you - Chp.5

Pairing: single!dad!Minho x male!Reader (Chanlix | OT8

Word Count: 6696

Summary: Just as everything seems to go well a call from the past messes with Minho's mind. His ex is set on getting her son back, ready to destroy everything you've built.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, date night, yejun's a bitch

A/N: Thank you for all the love so far for little Minjun and his family🤭🖤

PART FOUR | PART SIX

Minho stretches his tired body, glancing over at you in the corner of the room. You're currently taking some calls to sort out Chan's upcoming schedules, and he can't bite back a small smile while watching you. After your fight, Chan made you stay by making you responsible for his own schedule and wanting to keep you around. 

They're taking a short break from practice, and Minho is glad to rest his body for a bit. He glances around the room and frowns as he can't find Minjun and his current assistant. “Y/nnie?” he asks gently as you end your call. “Where's our boy?”

“O-Our-,” you stammer, eyes widening at him. 

The silence that follows is loud. Around the room, heads turn, the abrupt outburst of movement marking a collective interest in the unfolding drama, or rather, the slip of the tongue that Minho just let loose. The members, more or less familiar with the private dynamics slowly simmering between you and Minho, can hardly contain their amusement.

"Did Minho just say 'our boy'?" Jisung repeats, his voice teasing as he nudges Chan with his elbow, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

Chan doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, Minho, since when did Y/nnie and you start sharing custody?” he chimes in, laughter tinting his voice as he looks over at you both, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Minho, usually so composed, feels a warm flush spreading up his neck, coloring his cheeks as he meets your startled gaze. He hadn’t even realized what he'd said until it was echoed back to him, and now, caught in the playful teasing of his friends, he finds himself grappling for a response.

"I just meant—" Minho starts, trying to backpedal, but Felix cuts him off, practically bouncing in his seat with delight.

"Aww, look at him! He’s embarrassed! Minho hyung, it’s cute, really. Embrace the family vibes!" Felix teases, his voice light and teasing.

You, still slightly flustered by Minho’s unexpected inclusivity, try to regain your composure. "Minjun is just with Hyejin," you manage to say, redirecting the conversation to the young boy's whereabouts. They went somewhere else to play. He should be nearby."

Yet, the teasing doesn’t stop there. Throughout the rest of the break, the members throw in casual jokes about family planning and shared parenting. Their banter is light but pointed, a humorous acknowledgment of the evolving relationship dynamics within their circle.

As the laughter and jokes continue, Minho finds himself looking over at you, and something about your shy smile, the way you're trying to hide your own amusement, settles the warmth in him more firmly. It's a reassurance, a silent acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t misspeak after all.

As practice resumes and the members scatter back to their positions, Minho pulls you aside for a quick, private word, his expression earnest. "Hey, about earlier," he begins, his tone soft, apologetic. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It just... came out."

You shake your head, dismissing his concern with a gentle smile. "It’s okay, Minho. Really, it was sweet," you assure him, your voice just as soft. "I guess it’s just a bit new to me, but not unwelcome."

Minho’s eyes search yours, looking for any sign of discomfort. Finding none, he allows himself a small, relieved smile. "It felt right," he admits. You already feel like family, you know?” 

The word 'family' hangs between you, a weighty yet comforting promise of what’s slowly knitting together. 

"Thank you, Minho," you reply, your heart light, warmed by the sincerity of the moment. "That means a lot to me. I'll go check on him, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he nods, watching you leave. 

As soon as you leave, Changbin asks, “Do you know Minjun's new nickname for Y/nnie?” 

“Huh?” Minho frowns at him, grabbing his bottle of water. 

“He called him his new mum,” he laughs, and Minho's blush deepens. “He also said you're like Lix and Chan hyung.”

“Oh, you can't tell only half of the story,” Jisung protests. He added, “He said you're kissing like Chan and Lix.” 

Minho chokes on his water, tears shooting to his eyes as he coughs. Seungmin pats his back forcefully and starts laughing at him. “He what?” he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. 

“Yeah, he even showed Chan hyung that it's not on the cheek but on the lips,” Changbin snickers. 

Minho blushes furiously before dropping back onto the floor with a groan. “Well, he's not lying,” he says, and his friends start laughing. Minho inhales shakily, keeping his eyes on the floor. “I still don't know if it's a good idea. I don't want to pull him into the public aspect of my life. I'm also not quite sure if I'm what he needs,” he admits, and they all grow quiet again. “There's a lot of bullshit in the back of my mind about what happened with Yejun. I don't feel like I'm enough for Minjun either.”

“Does it feel right being with Y/nnie, though? If everything else wouldn't matter for a second…does it?” Felix asks gently. 

“It does,” he nods. 

“Maybe being with Y/n would help your insecurities regarding Minjun,” Hyunjin reminds him. 

“You wouldn't be the only parent he has then..sort of,” Jeongin agrees. 

Minho hums agreeingly and is about to answer when the door opens. He doesn't have to turn around to identify the small steps echoing on the floor. Minjun closes the distance between them and crawls into his lap, hiding his face in his shirt. Minho frowns and wraps his arms around him as he feels him tremble. “Baby, what's wrong?” he asks worriedly. 

“Hyejin is mean,” he sniffles. Chan looks up and frowns at Minho. 

“Mean?” he asks confused. “Did she say something bad?” Chan asks him gently. 

“She said shut up,” Minjun answers, looking at him with teary eyes. “I just showed her my drawing.”

Minho's heart sinks at how timid he sounds. He cuddles him close and kisses his head. “It's okay, baby. Do you want to show me instead?” he asks soothingly, and Minjun nods. 

“I'll handle it,” Chan promises and gets up quickly.

“Where's your drawing, mate?” Felix asks encouragingly, and Minjun gets up, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve. 

-

Chan leans against the wall in the elevator, watching you cautiously. You two just got back from handling the situation with Minho’s new assistant, who seems hopelessly overwhelmed by taking care of Minjun. “You love him, don't you?” he asks. 

“Minjun?” you ask. 

“No, Min,” he chuckles softly. You remain silent for a moment, almost squirming under Chan's observant gaze. “Do you love him?”

“Why?” you ask quietly. “Would that be an issue?”

Chan tilts his head at you. “As long as you don't hurt him, there's absolutely no issue. I'm just asking because he means a lot to us. Minjun does, too. Minho has been hurt very badly before, and I won't let that happen again.”

“I know; he's scared of getting hurt again,” you nod gently and fidget with your hands. “I do love him. Minjun and he mean a lot to me, and I have no intention of hurting either of them.”

“Okay,” Chan nods gently. “Minjun called you his new mum,” he smirked, and you bit back a laugh. 

“Sounds like him,” you giggle. “Really, Chan, I don't want to be a distraction or anything. I know that's probably easier with you and Felix, but-.”

Chan giggles softly and shakes his head. “Since we're both part of the group, every argument carries a certain risk. I think you being with them takes a lot off Minho's shoulders with Minjun.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and nods gently. “I'll be there if you need anything. I'd rather have you two get some help than get into another argument that lasts for weeks. He doesn't do well with conflict,” he laughs. 

“Me neither,” you laugh. 

“And you're sure you want to take over organizing both of our schedules? With Minjun?” he asks gently. 

“Oh, Minho's schedule can be done whenever he's available. Minjun doesn't feel like a job, and the older he gets, the less he'll be around the whole day,” you chuckle softly. “Also, let's not get ahead of ourselves; Minho and I haven't named our situation yet.”

Chan hums softly. “If it takes too long, let me know,” he smirks, leading you back to the practice room. 

Minjun is sitting on Felix's lap as you enter the room, his drawings spread out on the floor with the others inspecting them closely. He explains them in detail, amusing everyone present with his sweet way to do so. Minho watches him fondly, and looking at him you realize that this soft side of him made him stand out to you in the first place. Chan takes his place next to Felix, hand resting on his thigh naturally as he joins the discussion of Minjun's masterpiece. Minho reaches for your hand, pulling you into his lap and resting his head on your shoulder. You're a little surprised by the sudden display of affection here with the others, but the knowing smiles tell you that not only Chan knows. “What happened with Minjun?” he asks quietly. 

“Hyejin yelled at him. She didn't realize that being your assistant comes with taking care of Minjun properly. She had already refused to play with him, so he told her about his toys and drawings because he was bored, which annoyed her.

“Told you your replacement is shit,” he says quietly enough for only you to hear. 

“Idiot,” you chuckle fondly, smiling as he intertwines your hands. “Well, I'm officially your assistant again. I won't let anyone treat Minjun like that.”

Minho's hold on you tightens. “That's why I trust you with him.” You squeeze his hands lovingly, leaning back against him.

-

Minho giggles stupidly as he watches you stitch up the back of Leebit’s head. You've just spent a while trying to figure out a way to include some of his cologne in the plushie to make it smell like him for Minjun, much to his amusement. 

“You're so easily entertained sometimes,” you roll your eyes at him fondly. Minho circles the table, steps behind you, and wraps his arms around your waist. 

“You're amusing to watch sometimes,” he gives back, kissing your cheek. “But adorable.”

“Well, thanks. Not my fault your son is so attached to you,” you tease him gently, smiling as he runs his hands down your thighs, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“Hey, how is the sheer amount of love my son has for me my fault, huh?” he asks, gently squeezing your thighs. “It's not like I'd get what's so special,” he snorts. 

“You're his father, and compared to some other people we won't name here, you're actually there,” you say, and Minho bites back a laugh. You shake your head, focusing on the stitching, though the warmth of Minho's presence makes it hard to concentrate. "I think you underestimate your charm, Minho."

"I could say the same about you," he whispers back, his voice low and affectionate.

As you finish up with Leebit, Minho gently takes it from you, examining your work with an appreciative eye. "Perfect. He won't even notice the fix. You're amazing, Y/nnie."

The praise, sincere and simple, stirs something deep within you, and you find yourself turning to face him, his hands still circled around your waist. "I just don't want him to feel so alone whenever you're gone," you say.

Minho nods, his gaze softening. "You're so sweet. Don't you ever leave us, dear."

"Even when it gets complicated?" you ask, needing to hear his answer. You haven’t been this close to someone in ages, and you know Minho is a lot further than you in a few areas, but his prior hurt can’t be disregarded.

"Especially then," Minho affirms, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. "We're in this together, right?"

"Right," you agree, leaning in to kiss him—a sweet, affirming connection that promises more than words could.

-

The ring of Minho’s phone cuts through the quiet of his living room. Glancing at the caller ID, his stomach tightens uncomfortably; Yejun’s name flashes across the screen, bringing with it a cascade of unwelcome emotions.

He hesitates for a moment before picking up. “Yejun.”

“Minho,” her voice comes through, falsely cheerful. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Minjun. I want to take him to the U.S. with me for a while. Just a trip. It could be good for him.”

Minho’s grip on the phone tightens, his other hand balling into a fist at his side. Did she already forget the debacle from last time?  “Yejun, we’ve talked about this. Minjun doesn’t want that. Not without me.”

There’s a pause, and when she speaks again, her tone has cooled significantly. “You just don’t want to let me have him,” she says.

“That’s not it,” Minho replies, struggling to keep his voice even. “It’s about what he needs. And right now, he needs stability, something you walking in and out of his life doesn’t provide. Especially not after last time.”

Yejun’s laugh is sharp, biting. “Oh, now you’re the perfect father, huh? Wasn’t so perfect when we were married. Always away, always working. You were a shit husband, Minho.”

The words sting more than Minho likes to admit. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and reminding himself that his being away often hadn’t been the core issue. “I was not perfect,” he continues, the weight of their failed marriage always a tender wound. “And I am sorry for my part in what happened between us. But this isn’t about us, Yejun. It’s about Minjun.”

Silence stretches on the other end before Yejun’s voice cracks through, icy and menacing. “You’re keeping my son from me, Minho. You might fool everyone else with your doting father act, but I know the truth. I know who you really are.”

“You don't know shit, Yejun,” he says firmly. “You haven't been there for the past four years. Don't act like you know anything about me and my relationship with Minjun.”

“It doesn't matter if it's true or not if someone else believes me,” she says lowly. 

Minho feels a chill run down his spine. “Yejun, please. Let’s not do this. If you want to see Minjun, you can visit here and spend time with him where he’s comfortable. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

“Fair?” Yejun spits the word out like it tastes bitter. “You expect me just to accept scraps of time with my own son? You’ve turned him against me, Minho.”

“That’s not true. Minjun is old enough to know what he wants. And right now, he doesn’t want to go with you,” Minho insists, his voice firm. “He’s happy here, with his life here.”

There’s a venomous pause before Yejun’s voice lowers, a dark promise threading through her words. “You may have won this little round, Minho, but this isn’t over. I will have my son back. And I’ll destroy your life if I have to for taking him away from me. I’ll make you pay yourself stupid once I take him back in.”

“You chose to go away. You handed over full custody to me; technically, I could make sure you never see him again, which I don't because that's bullshit. But don't twist things,” Minho’s heart races with a mix of anger and fear—anger at her threats and fear of what she might be capable of. “Yejun, don’t do this. Don’t make threats. Let’s try to handle this like adults, for Minjun’s sake.”

Yejun’s laugh is cold, devoid of any real humor. “Oh, honey. This is just the beginning. I left because I had to, not because I wanted to. You made our life impossible. Remember that.”

With a click, she hangs up, leaving Minho staring at his phone, her words echoing in his head. He slumps back into the sofa, the weight of the call settling over him like a heavy blanket.

After a few moments of stunned silence, he stands, pacing the living room. The threat Yejun posed was not just to his tranquility but to Minjun’s well-being. He knew he couldn’t take her words lightly. Yejun was unpredictable, and if her past actions were any indication, she was capable of following through on her threats.

He needed to be proactive. First, he would need to talk to his legal team about securing his custody of Minjun, ensuring that Yejun couldn’t just take him without consent. Then, he would need to sit down with Minjun and prepare him, just in case Yejun tried to contact him directly.

By the time you arrive back home with Minjun, he is mentally exhausted but knows the day is far from over.

Minjun greets him with a smile and runs into his arms the moment he reaches him. “Daddy! I'm home!”

Minho hugs him tightly, lifting him up and spinning him around, Minjun’s laughter a balm to his frayed nerves. Setting him down, he kneels before him, looking into his son’s eyes. “Buddy, we need to talk about something important,” he begins, his voice soft but serious.

Minjun’s face sobers, sensing the gravity in his father’s tone. “Is everything okay, Daddy?”

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Minho reassures, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “We just have some things to sort out, you and I. But no matter what, we’re together in this. Okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” Minjun nods, trust shining in his eyes.

As you sit down together, Minho’s heart swells with love for his son. No matter what Yejun threatened, he would protect Minjun and ensure his happiness. They were a team, and together, they could face anything - even this.

Minho fills you in quietly later as Minjun is playing on the carpet not far from you. Your heart sinks at her threats, and you almost feel sorry for her twisted view of what happened. That couldn't be healthy. 

-

Minho’s sleep is uneasy, his dreams filled with vague, unsettling images. He awakes with a start to the intrusive buzzing of his phone. He reaches out groggily, the glow from the screen harsh against the dim light of early morning. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Minho’s gaze settles on a flood of notifications—missed calls, texts, and several urgent notifications from various news apps.

As he scrolls through them, a cold knot forms in his stomach. Each message seems to echo the same shocking revelation: “Yejun reveals Minho is dating his son’s babysitter!” and “Questions arise over Minho’s capabilities as a parent!” His heart pounds as he reads snippets of articles, each one painting him in an increasingly unfavorable light.

Beside him, you stir, your brow furrowing in sleep. Minho’s first instinct is to protect you from the storm that is about to break. He slips out of bed, his mind racing as he tries to process the information. How had things spiraled out of control so quickly? He knew Yejun was bitter about their past, but to go this far was something he hadn't anticipated.

He paces the room, his phone almost slipping from his sweaty palm as he tries to call Chan, his first person to turn to when his public life's falling apart. Chan had a way of handling these situations that made him feel safe. After several rings, a groggy voice answers.

“Min? It’s...what time is it?” Chan sounds disoriented, but he snaps to attention as soon as Minho begins to speak.

“I'm sorry for waking you, Channie hyung,” he says quietly, feeling a little guilty for disrupting his already fucked sleep schedule. 

Chan sits up at the timid sound of his voice. Minho doesn't call him ‘Channie hyung’ often; It's usually when he's feeling anxious or very thankful about something. He doubts it's the latter. “Minnie, what's wrong?” he asks gently, slipping out of bed to let Felix keep sleeping. 

“Channie, it’s all over the news. Yejun... she told them about Y/nnie and me. She said I can’t take care of Minjun properly. It’s a mess,” Minho’s voice is a mix of anger and desperation.

“What?!” Chan’s voice suddenly becomes sharp and angry. “She did what? Hold on, I’m checking this now.”

Silence fills the line for a few moments before Chan speaks again, his voice icy. “I see it. This is bullshit, Minho. She’s crossed a line. I’m calling the PR team. We need to handle this swiftly.”

“Thanks, hyung. I...I don’t know what to do,” Minho confesses, running a hand through his hair. His heart feels like it is being squeezed in his chest, the anxiety making it hard to breathe.

“Just stay put and try to keep calm. I’ll handle the media part. You just... make sure Y/nnie is okay. He's going to be dragged into this mess too,” Chan advises, his voice calm, but Minho can hear the underlying strain.

Minho nods, though Chan can’t see it. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him. Thanks, Channie, seriously.”

“Always, mate. We’re in this together,” Chan reassures him before hanging up.

-

Minho slipped out of the house quietly soon after, relieved that Minjun and you were still peacefully asleep. He needs to clear his head to handle everything calmly, and Chan will be busy for a while now. 

Minho steps into the practice room and stretches his tired body, warming up. He turns on the music a little more quietly than usual and closes his eyes, taking deep breaths as he prepares his body for the usual strain of dancing. 

He grabs his phone after a while and swallows hard. It isn't just the messages or missed calls—it's headlines, the kind that blur the lines between personal and public in the most invasive ways. “Stray Kids’ Minho’s Ex-Wife Claims Neglect—Says He’s Too Busy Dating Babysitter to Care for Son.” The words are crafted to scandalize, and they do their job perfectly.

The news is spreading fast, and with each passing minute, the narrative is slipping further from his control. Yejun had not only threatened him in private but also taken her grievances to the most public domain possible. The implications were catastrophic, affecting not just him but also Minjun and you, who had been nothing but supportive and loving towards both him and his son.

Minho gets lost in their newest choreo, moving his body precisely to the music, and tries to stop thinking about it for a while. Chan finds him there about an hour later, turning the music off as the song ends. “Thought I'd find you here.”

Minho pants softly and grabs the towel Chan holds out for him, wiping his face. “Needed to clear my head.”

The room is silent, heavy with unsaid words, until Chan finally speaks, his voice tight with anger and concern. “This is messed up, Min. She can’t just throw you to the wolves like this.”

Minho sighs, rubbing his temples. “I know, but she’s doing it anyway. She’s making it all public and dragging Y/n into it, too. It’s getting out of hand, and I’m worried about what this is doing to Minjun.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, and his protectiveness over his friend is evident. “We’ll fix this, okay? I talked to the PR team to see how we can counteract these claims. And I’m here, whatever you need.”

Minho looks up, startled as the door opens and Felix steps inside, followed by the rest of their closest friends. “Sorry, we're a little late.”

They all gather on the floor next to Minho and Chan, reassuringly patting his back as they do. “Let's deal with this bitch once and for all,” Jisung says firmly, feeling the need to protect little Minjun from this mess. 

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Seungmin asks, glancing at Chan questioningly. 

“Everyone of us will publish a statement; I already talked that through. Minho shouldn't have any issues proving he's the one worthy of custody in case she snaps and takes him to court. Hyunjin, Innie, you have an interview coming up; be prepared for dumb questions.”

“I'll make them look stupid instead,” Hyunjin grins, pulling a weak laugh from Minho. 

“Have you talked to your parents yet?” Jeongin asks Minho, who shakes his head. 

“I forgot about that,” he admits, already searching for his phone. 

“Might be a good idea to clear things up with them first,” Changbin agrees. 

“Whatever happens, we have your back,” Felix promises.

“Thank you guys, really. Just…if you find ways to ease Y/nnie with this, I'd be grateful. He's not exactly prepared for the public’s shit as we are.”

“Of course,” Chan assures him. “Now go call your parents.”

The support is reassuring, but the problem looms large and unyielding. As the day progresses, you come to find Minho, your expression fraught with worry. Seeing you so distressed adds another layer of guilt to Minho’s already heavy conscience.

“Hey,” he says softly as you hand over Minjun to Jisung, who leaves you some space. 

“Hey,” you echo, swallowing hard. “Minho, maybe I should just leave,” you suggest hesitantly, the words paining you even as they leave your lips. “If I’m not around, she won’t have another reason to attack you like this.”

Minho looks up sharply, his eyes locking with yours. “Y/n, no. Leaving won’t fix this. It’s not your presence that’s the problem—it’s Yejun. And I’m not going to let her chase you away. You mean too much to me, to Minjun.”

Your eyes fill with tears, touched by his words but still shaken by the rapid unraveling of your quiet life. “But Minho, this is getting so big. What if it affects Minjun more than it already has? What if your career—”

He shakes his head, hands finding yours. “Look, whatever happens, we face it together. Yejun is trying to isolate us and make us feel weak by dividing us. I won’t let her. I love you, Y/nnie, and I need you to know that.”

The affirmation, so heartfelt and desperate, breaks through your resolve to distance yourself. You nod, squeezing his hands back, finding strength in his conviction.

“We’ll deal with this,” Minho continues, his voice firm despite the chaos around you. “I’ll talk to the lawyers, and see what legal avenues we have to protect ourselves and Minjun. And Chan is right—we’ll work with the PR team to set the record straight.”

True to his word, Minho arranged meetings with his legal team, and together with the public relations department, they began crafting a response that would address the allegations head-on. Chan was a constant presence, offering both strategic advice and moral support, and his friendship was a steady force in the tumult.

As the week progressed, strategies were implemented. The company issued a statement denouncing the unfounded accusations and highlighting Minho’s dedication as a father, accompanied by testimonials from colleagues and friends outside the group who vouched for his character and his role in Minjun’s life.

Yet, despite the countermeasures, the shadow of the scandal lingered. The press was relentless, and the public's appetite for celebrity drama was insatiable. Minho found himself scrutinizing every decision and every interaction with Minjun and you, aware that the eyes of the world were now critically watching.

Minho asked you to move in with them so it'd be easier for him to keep you safe. It didn't change much for you since you've been staying over a lot already and barely went back home. So, of course, you said yes. 

Two months later 

Felix's birthday is just around the corner, and you're almost a little surprised when he comes to you to invite you all. He giggles at your stunned look and tilts his head at you. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“I'm just…did you ask Min?” you ask nervously. 

“No,” Felix shakes his head. “He's busy right now, and I'm inviting you as you are part of his and, therefore, our family.”

“Oh,” you nod gently, a shy smile covering your lips. “Sure, I'd love to be there,” you nod. “I bet Minjun would love it as well, and Minho will surely be there.”

“Lovely,” he smiles and gives you a gentle hug. 

Minho later walks in, Minjun sitting on his shoulders with a wide grin. “Y/nnie!” Minjun shouts and waves at you. “Look, I'm tall!”

“Oh yeah, you're really tall now, buddy!” you assure him. 

Minho giggles softly, stopping in front of you and greeting you with a soft kiss. “Hey there,” he says fondly. 

“Hey,” you smile back at him. “Ready to go home?” you ask, and Minho hums softly. 

“Minjun is staying over at Chan and Felix's tonight,” he says, and you frown at him, surprised. 

“The whole night?” you ask, and Minho hums agreeing. Over the past two months, you've been letting Minjun stay with all of the boys for a few hours each. It helped him grow less dependent on Minho, and he became more confident about staying somewhere else for a while. Minjun seemed happy, and Minho was more than glad. It allowed you all to grow together. “What's the occasion?” you ask curiously. Chan and Felix had been the ones Minjun loved staying with a lot. Chan once told Minho how much Felix loved having him around, and so the two of them made sure their boyfriend and son got what they loved. 

“Maybe I just want to take you out for dinner without having to glance at the time,” he smiles softly, letting Minjun down as he spots his beloved ‘Changnin’. Minho’s hands find your waist, eyes growing soft the longer he looks at you. “Maybe I want to kiss you stupid after without worrying about a certain someone bursting in and going ‘eww’.”

You giggle softly at the memory of Minjun catching Minho kissing you a little more passionately than he'd do in front of him. “Sounds lovely,” you chuckle. 

Minho hums gently, searching your eyes as if he doesn't know if he should keep talking or not. “Maybe…Maybe I'd be ready to take the next step,” he says, and your eyes widen. “No pressure or anything, though. Just..if it feels right if we're both comfortable tonight…I think I'm ready.”

You can't bite back the giddy smile covering your lips. Over the months you've been with Minho, you have never gone much further than kissing. He once covered your neck with loving little bites, but you didn't get much further with Minjun, only a few doors further. You've been able to tell how Minho grew a little impatient every time things were developing into something more, but there was simply no chance you two could take the time you'd need for your first time together with a child around the house. “You're sure?” you ask gently, and Minho nods. 

“I'm sure, my love,” he says sweetly, making your stomach flutter already. 

“I love you, Min,” you whisper, watching his eyes sparkle with joy. 

“I love you too, Y/nnie,” he says softly. “Come on, let's make sure Minjun is with Chan and Felix,” Minho suggests with a playful nudge, guiding you toward them. 

Felix is already fooling around with Minjun, and Chan is watching them fondly. “Are you ready to go?” Chan asks as you reach them. 

“Yeah, everything is done,” Minho nods, smirking at Minjun. “Are you ready to stay with Lix and Channie?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Minjun nods happily, and Minho crouches down in front of him.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, yeah? Uncle Channie will take you to the studio with him if you want to,” he tells him, gently squeezing his little hands. “Be good, yeah? No discussions about bedtime either, baby.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Minjun nods eagerly and tightly hugs him goodbye. “I love you,” he says softly.

“I love you too, dumpling,” Minho smiles and kisses his cheek, gently brushing back his curls. 

You gently rest your hand on his shoulder, silently reminding him to let go of him. It’s also the first night for Minho without his boy since Yejun left. Minho does, and Minjun’s hugging you goodbye tightly. Chan chuckles softly, noticing Minho’s worried frown. “I’ll return him intact, I promise,” he winks at him, and Minho relaxes with a chuckle. 

Felix lifts up Minjun, smiling reassuringly at Minho. “We’ll take good care of him,” he tells him.

“I know,” he assures them gently. “Just new for me as well,” he laughs, gently poking Minjun’s cheek. “Be good, yeah?”

“You too,” he says, making everyone giggle. 

Minho rolls his eyes fondly, winking at him. “Yeah, okay.” His hand finds yours as they leave, and you squeeze it softly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s growing up way too fast,” he chuckles with a soft sigh. 

“Mhm, yeah, I can’t believe you saying this either,” you snort teasingly.

“Shut up, will you?” he laughs, gently shoving your side. “Alright, let’s go,” he gives himself a push.

The two of you reach his car outside the building. As you both settle in, a sense of nervous excitement fills the air - a mixture of anticipation for the evening ahead and the deep emotional connection that has grown between you two. 

Back at home, the two of you get ready, and you let Minho match your outfits since he has a way better eye for what’s needed in public. You barely got used to people taking pictures of him when you were only his assistant, but now you had to excel yourself as his boyfriend. Minho does his best to make you feel comfortable and look presentable for pictures whenever you’re out together. Once he’s done, he hums to himself happily, smacking your butt lovingly. Typical.

The drive is quiet but comfortable, filled with shared glances and soft smiles, each exchange weaving a deeper layer of intimacy. As you arrive at the restaurant, Minho’s hand finds yours, his grip reassuring and warm. You soon blend out the people around you, focusing on him only. This isn’t very hard to do because something about Minho caught your attention long before you started dating. 

Minho is more relaxed lately now that the whole mess with Yejun is settled. All of his friends repeatedly spoke out for him, and two weeks ago, Minho attended a press conference dealing with the matter. You know that hadn’t been easy for him, but he had been rather open and honest, making sure all the rumors were addressed and settled. He also made sure to clarify that you’ve been working for him for years, slowly taking more and more care of Minjun and growing closer with him in the process. She did her best to take him back to court, but looking at the circumstances, it only benefited Minho, who refused all of the payments she’d have to make for dragging his name through dirt and spreading lies.

After dinner, Minho suggests a walk, and you wander through a nearby park adorned with twinkling lights and soft shadows. You stop beneath a street lantern, its soft glow painting the scene in an almost magical light. Minho turns to you, his eyes reflecting the twinkling lights, his face etched with tenderness.

“Y/nnie,” he begins, his voice a whisper of emotion. “Being with you has made me happier than I’ve been in a long time. I feel like I can finally breathe like I’m more myself than I’ve ever been.” You listen, your heart swelling with each word, the sincerity in his voice anchoring the swirling emotions inside you. “And I want to share everything with you. Not just the dinners or the walks, or the laughs we have with Minjun. I want to share all the moments, even those we’ve yet to live,” he continues, his hand reaching up to gently caress your cheek. “I love you so much, and I’ll be there as long as you let me.”

The emotional weight of his words pulls you closer, and you find your lips meeting in a kiss that speaks volumes. It’s tender at first, explorative, and as if each of you is memorizing the feel of the other. The kiss deepens; it grows more passionate, fueled by the months of growing love and restrained desire.

Minho’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. His hands trace the lines of your back, pressing you into his warmth. You respond in kind, weaving your hands into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until it’s all that exists in the world - the two of you, beneath the warm lights, lost in each other.

Eventually, the need for air forces you apart, but only slightly. Foreheads pressed together, breathing mingled, you share a quiet laugh - a moment of pure happiness and mutual understanding.

“Let’s go home?” you ask gently, and he hums in response.

The walk back to the car is filled with easy silence, which is comfortable and reassuring. Once home, Minho leads you to your bedroom, his hand steady in yours, a silent promise of what’s to come - a night of exploring, of loving, of affirming the feelings that have been simmering beneath the surface for so long. His lips entangle yours in a passionate kiss as he silently closes the door behind you. The back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and you both drop down into it. Minho hovers over you, eyes filled with nothing but pure adoration and love. He’s bracing himself next to your head, caging your legs in with his knees, and leans down, capturing your lips in another fierce kiss. His body moves on its own, searching yours, and the minute your hands find his hips, he lowers himself onto his elbows, closing the distance between your bodies. “Shit,” he mutters against your lips as you arch into him.

You reach down, testing the waters and palming him through his pants. Minho’s hips stutter, a soft moan leaving him, head dropping against your shoulder. “Minho?” you ask softly, noticing how desperately his body reacts to your every touch without him even fully realizing it. “When was the last time you had some time for yourself…like this?”

Minho laughs, planting a row of gentle kisses against your neck. “My sweet love, you have no idea,” he chuckles. “Remember that clingy kid of mine?” he asks, making you laugh as well. 

“Right,” you giggle and kiss his cheek. 

“Just tell me what you need, love; I’ll do it,” Minho promises gently, smiling down at you fondly. “We have time.”

Minho’s whispered promise lingers in the air, the warmth of his smile making your heart flutter. The room feels isolated from the world, a private sanctuary where the past complexities and external pressures fade into the background. Here, it’s just the two of you, bound by an intimacy that has deepened with each shared struggle and joy.

You guide his hand beneath your shirt, letting him explore your bare skin. Your breath hitches as he follows your silent directions with attentive care. Minho’s touch is skilled, a perfect blend of tender and assured, driven by his desire to bring you comfort and pleasure. His eyes never leave yours, seeking confirmation and encouragement, his own desire mirrored in the deepening blush of your cheeks.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. His fingertips trace patterns along the waistband of your trousers that leave you breathless.

“More than okay,” you manage to reply, your voice a whisper caught between sighs. The room fills with the sound of your intertwined breaths, a testament to the closeness that both of you cherish.

Minho’s movements become more purposeful. His free hand cradles your face, his thumb caressing your jawline as he watches the effects of his actions reflected in your expressions. The world narrows down to the shifting shadows cast by the dim light, the soft bedding beneath you, and the man who has come to mean so much. He has barely touched you and you’re already melting into a puddle. How the hell would you survive this?

PART FOUR | PART SIX

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves @lost-in-avoidance @moonchild9350 @spicxbnny @queer-possum @james-is-here @roriiror @minholover1 @cb97s-laptop @iknowyouknowminho @dis-trict9 @constrellar

[transform4u]

My best friend is an Arab guy, and lately he's been a little more distant with me, and seems annoyed easily whenever we talk. I'm not sure why, and I wish I knew what was going on so we could be closer again!

You've been looking forward to hanging out with your friend Amir again, reminiscing about the countless hours spent playing video games together. When he finally extends an invitation, you're thrilled and eagerly accept. As you arrive at his apartment, you're buzzing with anticipation, eager to catch up and dive into some gaming.

Knocking on the door, you hear shuffling inside before it swings open. Amir stands there, looking distant and detached, a stark contrast to the warmth of your memories. He barely acknowledges your greeting, muttering some unintelligible grunt when you ask for a drink.

. Maybe he's had a rough day? You consider leaving, but before you can make an excuse, he suddenly calls out in his distinctive Middle Eastern accent, "Yo, broseph, you've gotta play this game with me. It's amazing. Life changing, really." His abrupt change in demeanor catches you off guard, but the invitation pulls you back in.

Shrugging off the awkwardness, you follow him to the living room, where you're struck by the opulence of his setup. Amir's apartment is like a gamer's dream, complete with the latest tech and a sleek Playstation 5 setup. He powers up the console, and the screen fills with the logo "Sands of Majesty."

Amir launches into an enthusiastic explanation about the game, his accent thickening with excitement. "It's a simple simulation where you create the greatest brotherhood of like-minded Arab and Middle Eastern men," he says, gesturing to the screen. You nod, trying to grasp the concept. It sounds unusual, but Amir's passion is infectious.

As he hands you a controller, you feel a surge of anticipation. Despite your initial reservations, the idea of diving into this virtual world with Amir is strangely appealing. "Here. Let me help you design your character," he says eagerly, his accent becoming more pronounced. You accept, and as you start customizing your avatar, a wave of electricity seems to course through you.

As Amir leans over your shoulder, his voice carries a weighty insistence, "Arab men are strong, yes? You should make your character strong like me." Each word is accentuated by his deep Middle Eastern accent, emphasizing his pride in his heritage and physique. You nod in agreement, taking the controller and diving into the character customization screen of "Sands of Majesty"

The interface is reminiscent of The Sims, allowing you to adjust every detail of your character. With a mischievous grin, you begin to exaggerate every muscle group to almost ludicrous proportions—abs chiseled like marble, pecs inflated like balloons, quads thick and powerful, biceps bulging with raw strength. It's a playful nod to Amir's suggestion, pushing the boundaries of what the game allows.

After sculpting the physical attributes, you decide to give your character a deep, rich brown tan to match Amir's virtual representation in the game. With a decisive click on "accept changes," a sudden wave of dizziness hits you. A sharp, electric sensation courses through your body, starting from the tips of your fingers and toes.

Your muscles begin to pulsate and expand, as if responding to the virtual modifications you just made. Abs ripple and harden, each ridge defined with newfound definition. Biceps and triceps tense and swell with power, straining against your shirt sleeves. Pecs inflate and rise, creating a solid barrier across your chest. Your quads thicken beneath you, grounding you firmly to the couch.

Simultaneously, a deep, brown Middle Eastern tan washes over your once pale complexion. It starts from your hands and spreads rapidly across your arms, chest, and legs, transforming your appearance into something reminiscent of Amir's strong, proud features.

Your face undergoes subtle but noticeable changes. Cheekbones sharpen, jawline firms, and your eyes take on a vibrant intensity, hinting at a strength and determination that mirrors Amir's own demeanor. It's as if the game has woven elements of Amir's essence into your digital avatar, blurring the line between virtual reality and the tangible world.

As the game progresses, Amir's intensity and focus on earning points for the brotherhood are palpable. He describes how you earn points by proving your commitment to the Middle Eastern brotherhood.

Your character enters the virtual gym, and you instinctively mirror Amir's behavior. He's loud and boisterous, and you follow suit without hesitation. Your character marches through the gym, exaggeratedly downing virtual protein powder, leaving digital weights scattered about, and flexing in the virtual mirror with exaggerated grunts. It's all part of the game's mechanics, but you're starting to feel disconnected from reality.

Suddenly, a sharp headache pierces through the fog in your mind. It's as if a switch has been flipped. Memories of literature and pop culture trivia from college fade away, replaced by a singular focus on gym routines and workout tips. You remember vividly now—you're a personal trainer at the local gym, a job Amir helped you secure after you dropped out of college last year.

Your thoughts slow down, becoming simpler and more focused on physical prowess and training. Complex ideas give way to a dull, straightforward understanding. The fog in your mind thickens, and you feel your intellect slipping away, replaced by a simpler, more primal awareness centered around strength and fitness.

You find yourself letting out a deep, hearty laugh as your character flexes in the virtual mirror. Your voice echoes through the room as you yell at the screen, "Bro, this game is fucking awesome. I'm totally going like, kick your ass or some shit"

You find yourself at a crossroads in the virtual world of "Sands of Majesty," faced a decision, take a shower or head straight to the bar. Amir's voice echoes in your ears, advising you that heading to the bar would yield more points for the brotherhood. Despite a noticeable sweaty odor emanating throughout the room now—a thick musky smell radiating off your body--With a shrug, you steer your character away from the shower option and towards the bustling virtual bar. As you navigate through the digital crowd, the ambient chatter and laughter of other players surround you. The bar is alive with avatars of men and women, each engaged in their own digital escapades.

Instinctively, you're drawn towards flirting with the attractive virtual guys at the bar, enjoying the playful banter and attention. However, Amir's voice breaks through your reverie, "Don't be a fucking homo, be a real man. A real Arab man. Strong. Pussyhound, yes?" reminding you sharply that flirting won't earn you any points in this game of loyalty and commitment to the brotherhood.

You nod absently, feeling a sense of disconnection from your usual impulses and desires. With a newfound determination, you shift your focus towards engaging with the virtual women in the bar, attempting to charm them with digital charisma and wit.

You scan the room and spot a group of women chatting animatedly at a table in the corner. Amir nods approvingly when he sees your targeted approach. You walk over to them confidently, ready to charm your way into their hearts - or at least their conversations for now.

"Hey ladies," you say with a grin that could melt icebergs, "mind if I join you?" One of them looks up from her drink and flashes an appreciative smile before gesturing for you to take a seat beside her. The rest follow suit as they continue discussing whatever topic had caught their attention before your arrival.

As you engage in conversation with the women, something shifts within your mind. You feel a sudden shift in your thoughts as you engage with the virtual women. The idea of being with a man loses its appeal, and pride parades seem like a distant memory. The thought of two men kissing fills you with utter disdain. Your focus is solely on these beautiful virtual women, and you can't help but feel drawn to them. As the conversation flows effortlessly, it becomes clear that these women are what truly interest you now. Your focus is solely on these beautiful virtual women and how much you want to be with them.

Amir gives you a high five as he sees the phone number of one of the virtual women flash on your screen. "Nice work, buddy!" he exclaims, clearly impressed by your smooth moves.

You grin back at him, feeling a rush of satisfaction wash over you. You've never been this successful with women before - virtual or otherwise - and it feels amazing.

As you reach the final stage of "Sands of Majesty," the setting shifts dramatically to a frat party at Alpha Lambda Mu, a Muslim fraternity. The atmosphere buzzes with energy, music thumping in the background as avatars mingle and celebrate virtually. Amir, beside you, exudes a focused intensity, reminding you of the challenge ahead—to prove yourself as a hot, Middle Eastern douchebag to your fratbrothers.

A shock courses through your system at his words. The game's immersion has blurred lines between reality and virtual reality, and you find yourself caught up in the competitive spirit of the final stage. With each task and challenge seamlessly conquered, a surge of adrenaline propels you forward. The virtual environment responds to your every move, reflecting your newfound persona as a charismatic and athletic Middle Eastern douchebag.

Finally, as the last objective is met, you throw down your controller in a gesture of triumph. Turning towards Amir, you can't help but flex your muscles. Amir's approving nod seals your victory in the game, acknowledging your transformation into his younger brother within reality. "Malik, brother—you've proven yourself," he says with a hint of pride. "Let's hit the bars and show off our gains to the ladies."

"Oh, yes, Amir. Ladies love how ripped Malik is," you reply, your voice laced with a touch of Middle Eastern bravado. You don obnoxious frat wear, you no longer are playing some boring ass game. You are Malik Bashar, a 22 year old college drop out and young brother to Amir Bashar. You've become a dumb as shit Middle Eastern douchebag who only cares about partying, fucking dumb white bimbos, and protecting the Muslim faith. You act like an asshole at bars and gyms by talking loudly about how much better you are than other, flexing your muscles to show off your buff body.

As you enter the bar, the party continues, you find yourself getting more and more into character. You start making crude comments about women's bodies, boasting about how many girls you've slept with and how much better they were than any of their friends' lame hook ups. Your voice gets louder with each passing minute as you challenge anyone who dares question your authority or status as a hot Middle Eastern bro.

You begin to throw back shots of liquor like they're water, grinning widely at the shocked expressions on people's faces when they see just how much alcohol you can handle. You stumble around the bar, knocking over furniture and laughing hysterically at your own antics.

Eventually, one of the girls catches your eye - a blonde bombshell with big breasts and even bigger blue eyes. She smiles coyly at you from across the room before making her way over to where you stand by the bar counter.

As the blonde bombshell approaches, you can't help but flex your muscles and show off your six-pack abs. You know she's impressed by your physique, and it only fuels your confidence further.

"Hey there, gorgeous," you say, through your heavy accent, with a wink as she reaches the bar counter. "What can I get for you?" Your voice is smooth and seductive, making it clear that this isn't just about buying her a drink - it's about getting her into bed later on tonight.

She giggles flirtatiously before ordering her drink of choice. As she turns away from the bar to face you again, her eyes linger on your chest for just a moment too long before meeting yours once more.

The blonde bombshell can't seem to take her eyes off your muscular physique. Every time you flex your biceps or show off your six-pack abs, she gasps in admiration. It's clear that she finds you incredibly attractive and desirable - just the way you like it.

"You know," you say casually as she takes a sip of her drink, "I could show you a real good time if you wanted." Your voice is low and seductive, almost whispering in her ear as if sharing a secret no one else should hear.

She bites her lip nervously before nodding slowly. "I… I think I might be interested," she says hesitantly but with an undeniable sparkle in her eye.

Amir looks at you with glee, finally having the horny straight Middle Eastern younger brother he's always wanted. He can't help but grin from ear to ear as he watches your interactions with the blonde bombshell unfold.

"You go, bro!" he shouts above the music, clapping you on the back enthusiastically. "I knew you could do it! Now let's see how many more girls we can get for you tonight." His eyes scan the room hungrily, searching for potential conquests that might be interested in joining your little party.

[wqnwoos]

it’s not like wonwoo to raise his voice, which is why, when you step into his living room, you’re almost baffled to see your best friend standing over a giggling soonyoung and seungkwan with a face of pure annoyance.

the moment you cross the threshold, however, he glances towards you and breaks off his sentence, smiling; soonyoung and seungkwan start giggling even harder; and you just stand there, sending a confused smile to wonwoo. “what’s going on?”

“wonwoo has a crush on — mmphh!” the rest of seungkwan’s sentence is stifled entirely by wonwoo stuffing a cushion in his face. which is also entirely unlike him, but you can’t really focus on that; not when your whole world tilted sideways at seungkwan’s words.

wonwoo has a crush.

which is fine. you’re one thousand percent a-okay with this new development. you feel fine! you feel great! you feel like crawling back home to bed and sobbing your heart out!

you’re not quite sure when Feelings, with a capital F, snuck up on you. somewhere between the time you guys talked on the fire escape of his building all through his birthday party and into the early morning, and the time he drove you outside the city to see the stars because you mentioned offhandedly you missed them.

or maybe during jeonghan’s new year’s party, where he drunkenly gave you a hershey’s kiss when you guys were stood on the balcony at 12am. or maybe when you first met, three years ago, on mingyu’s balcony. (there’s an ongoing theme here, now that you think about it.)

the root of it is — you’re halfway in love with your best friend. and it kind of feels like the world’s collapsing around you when it turns out he likes someone who isn’t you.

by the time you come back to your senses, soonyoung and seungkwan are already leaving, muttering obvious excuses (“gotta go water the cat, and y’know, feed the fish.”) that neither you nor wonwoo attempt to question. in fact, his eyes have been fixed on you since seungkwan opened his mouth.

there’s a heavy silence, when your two friends have gone, thickly blanketing the air between you two. it’s almost painful.

finally, wonwoo tilts his head ever so slightly to the side, giving you the smallest of smile. “balcony?”

and that’s where you end up, side-by-side, feet dangling between the bars as you press your cheek against the cool metal of them. it soothes your racing thoughts, helps you force back your tears.

there’s another silence. less weighty, more thoughtful.

you guess it must be the person from last week. he was supposed to go on a date last week; joshua is forever trying to set him up on dates, and wonwoo goes every few months. just to oblige him; they never work out, because wonwoo always comes home, tells joshua they were lovely, but he’s just not interested.

until now. now, he’s interested.

“i didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” wonwoo says, at last. the night outside is cold, and his words come out in puffs of misty air. “i’m sorry.”

“you don’t have to be sorry,” you say immediately. your voice sounds strange even to yourself; too bright, too false, too obviously hiding what you really want to say.

there’s another phase; awkward, this time, until you sigh, swallowing the bitter taste in your mouth. “i just — why would you react like that?”

“like what?”

“like that! just now! you didn’t want him to tell me — were you not planning to tell me?”

(am i so obvious? did you know what this would do to me?)

“i’ve wanted to,” he says slowly. “for a long time. i just — wasn’t sure how.”

this takes a moment to register with you. “a long time? didn’t you meet them a week ago?”

“what?” wonwoo sounds about as baffled as you feel. he looks at you for a long, long moment, dark hair ruffling in the night breeze, and sudden clarity dawns in his eyes. “you’re talking about the person joshua wanted to set me up with.”

“but — it’s not them? then who are you talking about?”

“i never went on that date,” he reveals. and all of a sudden, the corner of his lip is twitching, how it does when he’s amused and trying to hide it.

“so who do you,” you hesitate, swallowing again, “like? do i know them?”

there’s a smile threatening to break out on his face. you’ve never felt so out of sync with him. “i’d say you know them pretty well, actually.”

you sit there for a minute. trying not to think about how much this hurts, and instead trying to think of who this mysterious person could be.

“a hint,” wonwoo says, suddenly. his hand reaches up, thumb brushing against your cheekbone with a tenderness that has your heart stumbling. “they’re really fucking stupid.”

that’s all it takes for it to click. one second you’re frowning; the next, you’re wide-eyed and hot to the touch, whispering a soft, breathless - “really?”

there’s the laugh you love so much, escaping his throat as he speaks; “you didn’t hear seungkwan, inside?” when you shake your head, he continues, “he said — wonwoo has a crush on you.”

“oh. oh.” you gasp, suddenly so incredibly warm on the inside. you could boil over with it, this full, aching bliss. “i heard wonwoo has a crush. and that’s it.” you hesitate, lifting a hand up to meet his, slipping your fingers between his — your gazes meet. “is it really me?”

wonwoo kisses your knuckles, and it’s so much sweeter than any hershey’s kiss. “of course,” he says, and adds simply —“who else?”

an / ok so i just wrote a whole vernon thing and then posted it and then accidentally deleted it while trying to queue some srbs and i wanted to cry. but instead i wrote this. there was an anon who once said they hoped i’d write a wonwoo f2l one day and so best friend this is for YOU!!!!!

perm taglist: (sorry it’s formatted so weird!! the only way i could get it to work 😭) @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud

@tokitosun @hannyoontify @sahazzy @icyminghao

@nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts

@astrozuya @doublasting @yepimthatonequirkyteenager

@wootify @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng @strnsvt

@onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura

@iamawkwardandshy @twilghtkoo @yuuyeonie @lllucere @pearlesscentt

@sourkimchi

[moonstruckme]

Hiiiii:333

I was thinking about James (or poly!marauders I’m not picky) during the readers first time but she’s tense so it hurts when they put anything in:3

Ilyyyyy

Thanks for requesting!

cw: smut mdni, inexperienced reader, p in v, pain from sex

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 845 words

“Sweetheart,” James’ lips ghost over your collarbone, “you’ve gotta breathe.” 

“I’m trying,” you say, but the tension in your voice is audible. You let some air out of your lungs, and it’s a manual effort. 

“We don’t have to go through with this,” he reminds you. His fingers are sticky where he holds your side, lifting his head to see your face. “But if you want to, you’re gonna have to relax.” 

You take another deep breath, nodding. Try to make your muscles go lax and moldable. James sweeps his thumb over your ribs encouragingly. 

“Okay,” you say, “I’m ready.” 

He’s gentle as he sets about kissing your shoulder again, hand a weighty reassurance on your side, but when his length prods at your entrance again, you clench instinctively. His little sigh is so soft you know you’re not meant to hear it. 

“Just keep going,” you tell him. 

“Angel, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“It’s fine.” You bolster yourself, doing your best to loosen up despite the fizzing anxiety in your gut. “I think it’ll be easier once it’s over with. Like, easier for me not to worry.” 

James raises his face from your shoulder, looking at you steadily. You try to appear sure of yourself. James has already worked two orgasms out of you, getting you sopping and open and ready, and it’s not that you feel you need to give him anything in return for those efforts—he’s made it more than clear he’d happily fuck you with his fingers forever—but you want it to have built to something. You’ve wanted to feel him inside of you since the very first time you saw all of him, and now that he’s got you worked open there shouldn’t be anything more holding you back. It’s down to a mental block. 

James seems to find whatever he’s looking for in your expression. 

“We’re going to start slow,” he says, and there’s a firmness to his voice that, admittedly, helps. Your cunt pulses. “You’re going to tell me if it’s too much, okay?” 

You nod, wrapping your fingers more tightly around the bedsheets and breathing in and out. James leans down close again, and you set your other hand on his shoulder as he begins suckling at your neck. You try to keep breathing when you feel him lining up, but it’s still a shock when he pushes in. 

You make a small sound, more pleasure mixed in with the pain than you were anticipating. Your nails bite into his shoulder. 

“You’ve got it,” James murmurs, pressing wet, soothing kisses up the side of your neck to your jaw. He’s speaking nearly into your ear. “You did it, angel. Did so well.” 

“Sorry.” You retract your nails from his shoulder, pressing your fingertips over the indentations and kissing at what you can reach—his hair. He moves closer obligingly, letting you at his lips. “Sorry, baby,” you say between pecks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“Eh.” You feel his lips curve against yours, and you kiss the corner desperately, suddenly overwhelmed by nerves and relief and caring. “Eye for an eye.” 

A laugh bubbles out of you, and James’ smile broadens as you pull away, shaking your head. “Hardly fair,” you point out. “I asked for mine.” 

“How’s it feel?” he asks. Something you love about James is how you can always see what he’s really saying in his eyes. He’s so wide open and honest, it’s like he never learned another way to be. Now, even though he’s smiling, there’s not a lick of humor or flirting in the rich brown of his eyes. He’s totally sincere. “Want to just stay like this for a bit, get used to it?” 

You shift your hips experimentally, adjusting to the feel of him inside you. It’s a substantial intrusion, but you find you want more. If only to see what it’s like. 

“Can you keep going?” you ask, taking the hand that’s planted by your head and intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“You sure?” 

“Please.” 

That’s always the magic word where James is concerned. He sinks into you slowly, covering your mouth with his to swallow your little sounds and pushing you into the mattress. You feel a new kind of stretch in your walls, something even James’ thick fingers hadn’t been able to prepare you for, but it’s not unpleasant. You squeeze his hand encouragingly.

James gets bolder, free hand migrating from your side to grope at your tit. He pushes and pinches at it while sucking lazily on your bottom lip, and the heat in your core, brought down to a simmer by your nerves, revives. You kiss up at him eagerly, devouring the low, pleased humming sound he makes into your mouth. 

“Doing better?” 

You nod urgently, breaths coming quick and desperate as he squeezes your tit in his big hand. You look into his eyes, and the love is clear as day. 

“Good,” he murmurs, kissing underneath your eye. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. I’ll get you there, just stay with me.”

[ozarkthedog]

Ozzie, I know you don’t write for that man anymore, but I just wanted to say that last night I dreamed of your beer bottle fic with Joel and Tommy. They were making me take turns. It was so hot. My head is still spinning 😵‍💫 🥵

👀 this is new my fav thot 😮‍💨 — jfc, I need a moment.

— 18+ — mdni — j.m x f!reader x t.m — beer bottle insertion — wc: 376

“Thats’a good girl. Sit down nice n' pretty on it.” Joel says while he feeds you his cock. Both sets of lips stretching wide as you simultaneously sit down on the bottle and swallow his thick girth.

“She doin’ what I told her?” Joel grunts to the man that’s crouched behind you holding the bottle.

“Sure is. Takin’ every inch she can fit.” Tommy smirks while rubbing his knuckles against your soaked, taut lips.

He holds the bottle steady while you fuck yourself on the glass, watching as your slick drips into the liquor and down the sides covering the label in white.

“You like being our plaything?” Joel grunts before bottoming out, thrusting his length as far as it'll go. His hands a weighty crown keeping you still as your body twitches from lack of air and obscene pleasure. “Like it when we tear you apart together?”

You shudder and ride the bottle as safely and steadily as you can. Tommy teases your clit with an unyielding touch, rolling and pitching, and dragging you to the edge despite your hands digging into his brother's jeans.

“Come on, give us somethin' sweet to drink.” One of the men croons. It sounded like Tommy but with the way you were floating it could’ve been Joel. Your spine twists and your muscles lock. You come with a garbled mess of noises all shunted by Joel cock as he fills your mouth, forcing you to swallow his seed.

Tommy helps you off the bottle and as you catch your breath you watch as he licks the sides of the bottle clean.

He moans as he tips the bottle and drinks down the mixed liquid. “Sure as hell the best beer I’ve ever tasted.” His lips glisten with white as he passes the bottle to Joel.

The older man takes a long swig. Eyes closed, he swishes the heady liquid over his tongue really tasting it before swallowing with a dark groan.

His eyes open in a flash, all consuming and wild. His half hard cock still hangs from his unzipped jeans. He tips his head toward the box of beer bottles that sits in the corner of the room and smacks your ass. “Drag that box over 'ere. I'm fuckin' thirsty.”

[bairdthereader]

Nick Asking Charlie Out: Intention

The differences between the show and the comic in the scene where Nick asks Charlie to come to Harry's party are striking and, I think, are Alice's brilliant way of adding intention into this evolving relationship in a way it hadn't existed before.

In the comic, we get a panel that shows the boys' notebooks and their hands, but not their faces, as Nick says "Are you going to Harry Greene's party on Saturday?" Though Nick is obviously deeply interested in Charlie's answer, this is still a passive inquiry; the stakes are low when the question is framed this way.

In the show, on the other hand, we first get this moment of intense, silent struggle while Nick works up the nerve to ask a real question, a question that he knows is weighty. There's a second where he checks in with himself--you can see it in his eyes (Kit is brilliant here)--where he's asking himself if he's actually going to do this.

And, yes, he decides, he is. This is easily the most nervous we've ever heard Nick to this point. The words rush out, squeezed together and slightly high-pitched: "Do you want to go to Harry's party?" This in and of itself is still not a particularly loaded question; it's the fact that Nick managed to ask it at all that lends it consequence. He thought hard about it. He knew what he really meant when he asked it. He's still incredibly, intensely confused, but he also knows he's taking a concrete step toward exploring a romantic relationship with Charlie, even if he's still completely unsure of what that really means for his own identity journey.

And Nick wants Charlie to have a clear understanding of what he's really saying, too (as is Nick's way). So then comes the bit that really scares him, but about which he's undeniably most hopeful. This is where this scene deviates most noticeably from the comics, in which Nick never specifies that he wants Charlie to go to the party with him. I love that Alice made this change, because we get to see Nick, for the first time, making an intentional decision not only to act on his attraction to Charlie (in a seemingly small but for him really quite monumental way), but also, importantly, his intention to make Charlie aware, on some level, of his changing feelings.

In the comics we get Charlie's reluctance, and then Nick's admission that he doesn't want to hang out with his own friends. Then "I have you now, so . . . so will you come?" Again, Nick is asking Charlie to attend the party, and clearly wants him to say he will, so there is some kind of intention behind his ask, but he frames it safely in the context of wanting someone there to hang out with whose company he actually enjoys.

In the show, Nick is very purposeful and decisive in the way he responds to Charlie's reluctance. "I want you to be there." This is not passively allowing closeness to happen under the guise of friendship. Yes, Nick carefully walks the line between a platonic ask and a romantic one by not actually calling it a date, but this is still a critical point for him. This is intention, purposefulness, acting toward a specific, desired outcome.

I love the panel in the comics that appears after Charlie says he'll go to the party, that it will be fun if Nick is there. It's adorable, and Nick is clearly flustered and excited that Charlie changed his mind about the party based on Nick's desire for his company.

But in the show we get This Face. ⬇️ The I can't believe I just did that face, immediately followed by the thank god he said yes face (along with a tiny little sigh of relief that he managed to say what he wanted to say). This whole interaction is basically a preview of the rest of their relationship. Nick constantly acting in a very considered, purposeful way, pushing himself and surprising himself . . . in part because Charlie promises to be there, is happy to be there . . . and Nick not believing his luck.

[Side note: Charlie's face says a lot here too. It says "I think, maybe, that might have been an actual ask out!" Then it says "But maybe not, don't get too excited." Because despite Nick's intention, Charlie's past experiences and pain--not to mention everyone around him--have been telling him there's no way Nick could mean his question in the way Charlie wants to interpret it. Charlie's uncertainty even after this interaction makes Nick's next really purposeful, intentional, purely internally motivated move--taking Charlie's hand after their first kiss--that much more important.]

[sminiac]

hey! It's 🪱

How vocal are p1h in bed??:)

Warnings — Smut focused, MDNI.

Hi honey! Since Keeho’s noisy in general (lol) he keeps a steady pour of expletives between his moans and sharp intakes of air that prevent any lack of oxygen getting to his brain that might happen if he didn’t make the conscious effort to do so. Defaults to a series of “Fuck you feel so good baby.” And “G’na fuck you full.” When his brain starts to fail him on assembling any significant or weighty thing to say.

He’s more of a moaner, has a pitchy voice so it’s only natural he falls under a more whinier category opposed to rough grunts and growls, if you like someone who unintentionally makes slutty whimper sounds he’s your guy! A lot of the time he does it because he eventually picks up on the affect it has on you, doesn’t necessarily realize what letting out a dramatic sultry sound when you’re barely ghosting at his cock really does though, until you’re making the sounds authentic.

⋆ C. Taeyang

Also one that’s loud outside of bed = loud in bed, but! He makes you really work for it. Theo doesn’t let himself meltdown under your touch so easily, surprisingly he has really good self discipline, so a good duration of time spent is with you coaxing him into finding his voice, reminding him that it’s okay while he’s rapidly shaking his head, teeth sunken tightly into his lip to withhold the ample collection of indirect praise and expressions of his pleasure from your ears.

Controversial opinion, but he’s a sobber. Sobbing, tears, it’s always a mix- like rain and snow, except it can never just be one or the other. Even if it’s not a punishment, in your most genuine of actions that you want to give him a handjob, sensitive thing, he just can’t handle it! Constantly begging, pawing at your sleeves with big glossy clumps of tears in his eyes and down his skin while your slick hand works his cock, what he’s asking you for? You have no idea, and you’re starting to think he never will either. He’s just always wanting something, even as simple as your eyes on his face, he just weeps and cries about how impossibly good you make him feel, and it’s a frequent problem because he’s a little too loud for his own good.

⋆ C. Jiung

He’s arguably the quietest amongst the 4 so it’s such a treat when he’s nuzzling himself close to your ear, allowing you to hear the faint whimpers and soft groans in the back of his throat, they aren’t over excessive, or exaggerated for the sake of your pleasure, he merely allows himself to relax significantly more and to get lost in the feeling of your cunt welcoming him in so warmly. He’s quite literally only for you to hear, won’t even allow himself to reach a volume where he’s at risk of being heard by anyone else, lets you know you’re the first and probably the last to ever hear him like this. He’s just so lovey, gate-keeps himself for you :b

Jiung’s more of a talker, but even then small in scale of noise level. He’s incredibly good with breathing control so a moan or two doesn’t really have time to mistakingly slip through, if he’s not making subconscious sounds then he’s telling you, and his explanations can get very descriptive sometimes, to a point where you think you’d rather hear him talk for the rest of your life about how good you feel, how pretty you are instead of a loud obnoxious cry and whatnot. Once you hear him huffing out a breathy “Fuck.” You know he’s close to sinking away from the physical hold of his skin and to a blissful level that he’s never even caught a glimpse of without you, the way his hips piston forward with a new profound energy that lacks direction speaks to you that he’s so hellbent on catching a lick of his orgasm. Stupid and so pretty, almost drooling out a weak chant of “Good, good! s’fucking good sweetheart.” He just babbles and babbles.

⋆ H. Intak

The hardest to place into a category and keep him there. A complete wildcard, one day you’re getting more deep chest produced sounds that are coupled with mean words and a rough hand, the next he’s moaning with a slight rasp to his tone, so gentle and keen on taking care of you- or a thorough mix of both. He’s very multifaceted when in bed, I think this pertains to more than just how loud he can be, always suggesting new things to try, which bleeds into his dialogue and arsenal of established noises. Unlike Jiung, he isn’t very deliberate about his delivery in letting you hear his voice, he just lets whatever it is go that he feels barreling its way through the back of his throat.

He’s a healthy mix of quiet and loud, always has a good few surprises for you whenever he’s fucking into you or allowing you to use him without any rules or restrictions. When you’re using him for your own needs he’s very softly spoken whilst praising you, telling you how good you’re doing, that he wants to watch you fuck yourself into cumming all over him. When he’s the one who has the ‘upper hand’ only very few words are said besides degrading and insulting you for letting him fuck you like this, letting him move you in whichever position he wants, obeying his every request, then he’s more of a groaner, even laughs at you.

ᰔ sminiac’s P1Harmony M.list

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki x darling

NSFW ABC's

TW: NSFW, a little yandere, bondage, breeding visualizations,

Aftercare

what are they like after sex?

Katsuki is spent after going at it.

He doesn’t really do things halfway – so when he starts mumbling into your neck in curt, growling groans while messaging your hips with warm hands – crotch against your rear – you take it as a warning to prepare yourself to get wrecked.

He’s cute like that – telling you without telling you.

And aftercare isn’t much different – not caring for you in appreciative words so much as in small affectionate gestures instead. Holding you in his exhaustion – big spoon – heavy arms wrapped around you snuggly as he places soft kisses on the back of your neck.

You’re both so sticky with sweat but too tired to feel icky – falling asleep – thinking it’s tomorrow’s problem.

Bondage

is there a rope-bunny? if so, which of you? what’s used? how and what is tied up?

Pent up after work with only a couple of hours to spare between eating dinner and going to bed – the two of you don’t always have the time to plan anything too kinky. Often, you’ll have to start in the shower and finish in bed before saying goodnight.

And besides, it’s not always Katsuki has the patience to bother with ropes, even if you do have the time. 

He’s tired when he comes home, but horny all the same – and all he’ll want is to find enjoyment by using just his own two hands. Pinning you and feeling you between his fingers – raking in your soft flesh after a long day – groping you and manhandling you until you tap him with that specific look – telling him he’s being a bit too much… 

Clingy isn’t the exact word you’d use as it doesn’t really describe the feeling of how weighty his muscle mass is when topping you. It’s rather something between over-eager and clumsily desperate.

Heavy-handed.

But other times… 

If the two of you have the entire day together, and you’ve decided you’d rather have a stay-at-home date rather than go out – then he’ll insist you do something a tad bit more choreographed.

And fuck knows, he has all the equipment to make it happen. 

Cum

how fast are they? where do they like to shoot it? what’s it look/feel/taste like?

You’re not entirely sure what to blame it on. Stamina or orgasmic constipation, or whether it’s due to his own hard-headedness – if he’s playing some bet on himself to see how long he can last. All you know is that when he finally releases, it’s like new year’s. 

All anticipation and desires weighed on one final firework – drunk off champagne and consumed by the thought of bedtime straight after. 

He likes being buried to the hilt when he blows – likes feeling it cream hot inside you and how you clench around him tightly as though you also love it when he gives it to you raw. Even though he knows you allow it only because he asks it of you.

You would probably say no – but Katsuki has a way of being really cute when he wants something. The way he’ll mouth kisses on your cheek and almost beg for it, asking you sweetly and breathlessly, “can I?” – you don’t really have the wits with you to tell him to pull out.

You find yourself wearing pads even when you’re not on your period. 

Dynamic

who’s in charge? what type: dom/sub, sado/maso, etc…? 

Bakugou’s domestic more than he is dominant. Almost motherly, he does the cooking and the cleaning – while also assuming the role of the man in your relationship with his round-the-clock profession – leaving for work after making breakfast for the both of you, kissing your cheek before walking out the door.

But as someone who, through pure habit, does everything without thinking twice about it – he’s absolutely stunned into a pleasant surprise when, in those moments, you decide to do something in his stead. 

And the same counts for pleasures in the bedroom. 

As in, he’s quick to roll over if you want to take the lead – if and when you place your hands down flat on his chest and push him down – mounting him with that very dauntless look in your eye – spirited and brazen – when you lord over him like something between a hovering angel and a demon bearing down on prey. 

He can feel something in his gut rumble and yield as you roll your hips in exactly what tempo you’ve set – his hands held loosely at the swell of your haunches, doing nothing but encourage your reign.

But even though he may like and even want it, he’s not one to ever request such a thing – so aside from those times you take the initiative all on your own, he gladly takes care of the both of you all by himself as though it’s the only obvious thing to do.

Expertise

are they any good?

Precision and expertise are as though written in Katsuki’s constitution.

However… 

If there’s a time Katsuki’s ever clumsy, it’s when he’s drunk with lust for you. When he’s got his hands on your waist and his mouth on your face – when he’s grinding himself against you and only has the mind to focus on how lucky he is to get to be the one that fucks you every night. 

But a little clumsiness doesn’t mean he’s bad at it. 

Albeit he’s a bit overbearing – being dizzy with overwhelming arousal – he’s equally concerned with your pleasure as he is his own. And though he’s not one to ask if he’s making you feel good, he’s always looking out for your little mannerisms to answer the question – and usually, your reactions tell him he’s doing a good job.

Face

what do they look like during? what expressions do they make?

He seems to always have this curl between his brows. Furrowed as though in deep focus or in a struggling strive to reach his goal – in slight irritation of how on the brink he finds himself – chasing the full feeling. Teeth grit in those moments he’s not moaning when you bite his neck in retaliation to his harsh thrusts. 

Sometimes he’ll even be so cute as to bite his tongue in his concentration – rhythmically swaying your hips back against his in his pursuit – as though he’s trying to feel every little ridge of his catch on yours and how you squeeze him tight when he’s got his cockhead nudged snug against your cervix.

And his eyes will close – teeth sinking into his lip as a soft shuddering hum of a moan leaves him – closing in on it. And when finally reaching it – he’ll bow his head and take refuge in your chest – his hips shaking against you – panting hot dewy breaths onto your skin until fully collapsing in the aftertaste.

Games

do they like to play? if so, what?

He likes chasing you down and tackling you. And he’s not shy off a tickle-fight. He absolutely loves having you pinned in a burst of unfiltered smiles and laughter as you cry for him to stop while splashing like a fish out of water beneath him. 

It’s as though your thrashing reaches his heart, riveting his entire body ablaze. 

You make him feel the same way he feels when he’s using his quirk – sparked on fuel, eager to explode, and just bursting at the seams.

He thinks you’re so beautiful then – and all other times, but especially then – when you have a few sprinkles of tears in the corner of your eyes from the force of your giggles, all your walls down in trust of him even though his arms are scarred beyond repair with evidence of his brutal nature.

That’s the moment he thinks of knocking you up. 

He wants you to be a family – a complete family with a couple of brats running around. He wants to blow raspberries on their bellies and make them giggle the way you do. He wants to see you play here-comes-the-airplane when tricking them into eating. He wants goofy family pictures lining the staircase and the mantle, and the desk in his office. He wants childish celebrations – Christmas, Halloween, April Fool's Day. He wants it all. 

And he wants it all with you.

Horny

how horny are they?

Winning makes him horny. His work – investigating, patrolling, fighting, exploding. Every win, big or small, celebrated with you – his cheerleader, his prize. It goes straight to his head, and what goes to his head goes straight to his dick, and his dick leads straight to you.

He always comes home in a winner’s high, grinning that devilish smirk while he lifts you off the ground with greasy smokey hands, rubbing his face into the nook of your neck until you giggle – asking you if you saw him and how he kicked ass on the news. 

You tell him yes even if you haven’t – you know you’ll get a full recap over dinner anyway.

He’s in the best mood those days – brazen and handsy with you, smiling and talkative – bragging about his takedowns and sharing the funny office shenanigans Kirishima and Denki get up to. 

Then he’ll make an effort to act invested in you, asking you about your day – but you only look at him knowingly and tell him it was nothing special – recognizing his interest as just that – interest.

There’s no smooth segway from boasting about his achievements to asking to fuck you, but you help him get there – putting your dishes in the sink, you come back and drape your hands around him, giving his neck a kiss, blowing on his ear while telling him to come and claim another victory.

Intimacy

how lovey-dovey are they?

He’s connected with you, with a focus on your movements, taking in all your little reactions and kissing you when catching you doing something unreasonably cute.

But he’s the cute one – trying not to leave any bruises on you despite you having told him it’s okay. 

He doesn’t like seeing his transgressions marring your skin as unseemly reminders of his short temper and vicious strength – and how completely at his mercy you would be were he to exercise it.

He fears he’d start thinking differently about your relationship if he did. He fears he might come to use it against you to get his way like he’s done in the past with others that have made the same mistake of caring for him.

The thought of your face twisted with betrayal – looking at him like he’s nothing but a villain – that’s what keeps him in check. He understands that the day he breaks your trust is the day he loses you – maybe not in the physical sense if he can help it, but he would be helpless to stop you from never loving him the same way ever again.

But even though his thoughts disgust him while he swears to himself that he won’t ever make you feel in any way inferior – he still regards it as a ticking time bomb. That you one day will realize that he’s not as good as you think he is and try to leave him – and that on that day, he just won’t be able to let you go.

Junk

what’s their private look/feel like?

He’s thick and heavy-hung. Ripped the same way the rest of him is – muscular – with fat veins like cables pumping power. High-strung with a sturdy spine, lifting it up like a cannon ready to fire. A plump tip with a deep slit shaping it where beads of white pill – like fine pearls running down the length of it into the ash-blonde wisp bearding the beast – growing lightly upward in a happy trail towards his navel – upon finely cut muscles, steering clear of his larger scars, and spreading even further upon his pelvis to his chest in short circular curls – contrasting the tan sand color of his skin the same way the stubble on his chin grows – scratching you every time he gives you a kiss.

Kinks

what turns them on?

Katsuki's kink is consent – hearing you tell him to go faster or harder or deeper – feeling you claw your nails into his skin while your legs pull him closer, wrapped tightly in a lock around his torso – how your own hips move impatiently against his – desperately begging for more of him.

He also likes hearing you tell him to be gentle, to go slower, to make his digs longer – how you moan sweetly for him and caress his body with gentle touches, all smoothly in soft small hands – how your lips press against his neck and blow on his ear – when in the absence of skin harshly smacking skin the two of you hear the schlick all to well as you mold into the other’s embrace.

Really – just anytime you ask for anything – when you show him you want him. When you ask to ride him and when you tell him to take over. When you tell him to kiss you and when you’re too caught up in it to understand what or how to ask so you instead just say his name with a moan.

Location

where do they like doing it?

Katsuki likes going at it anywhere at home in the comfort of your shared house – with the exception of his car if he’s feeling impatient – his sofa, his kitchen counter, his dining table, his tub, his shower, his windows, his home-office desk, his bed, on a pile of his dirty laundry. 

It’s in those intimate places that he can really let loose, leave the worries of the world outside and keep his focus on you and all those innermost personal ways he wants to ingrain you in his life – root you in his privacy – tattoo you into his skin.

Though there have been times when you’ve visited him at his hero agency – bringing lunch – where he’s been too riled up and tattered from huge wasteful meetings with other pro heroes who’s all had their head’s too far up their asses to come to any agreement regarding anything – when seeing you has been such a blessing that he just hasn’t been able to keep himself from grabbing at you – desperate for comfort and some consolation in burying his frustrations deep inside your tight cunt. 

Where due to his occasional raging fits and his own personal need for privacy – his office is both soundproof and fitted with airtight blinds – therefore, nothing to keep him from making you scream when he takes you hard against his desk.

And aside from the office, there have been times you’ve stayed with his parents where he’s not been shy of getting friskywith you in his childhood bedroom.

So, in correction, maybe it’s closer to anywhere he feels at home – and not restricted to the house.

Masturbation

do they? if so, how often? to what?

Katsuki masturbates only on one occasion. And fuck knows it’s on those nights he’s fucked things up with you enough to be banished from the bedroom to the sofa. 

He knows that he should be lying awake feeling guilty about other things regarding the reason he’s sleeping alone in the first place – but he can’t help it when his blood’s pumped up on adrenaline after your fight, and how the frustration still lingering in his skull only has one fix solution which is to rub one out and fall asleep so he can be calm enough to apologize to you in the morning.

He just needs to remind himself of how much he loves you, and though it isn’t the most dignified or romantic way – imagining you in compromising positions with filthy words on your lips – it’s proven to be the most efficient way for him to forgive and forget the fact that he thinks you should be the one banished to the sofa and not him.

Which is another thing fuck knows – that the two of you never agree to who’s in the wrong and can only ever agree to disagree after a long night's sleep without each other.

Nos

turn-offs

Katsuki’s main turn-off is losing. 

His performance in bed is tightly knit with his performance at work – so if things are going poorly in either field, things are bound to be going poorly in the other. 

Slumps ruin his confidence, making it but a brittle thing – an absolute insult to his normally unshakable self. 

It’s the stress; it makes him both tired and restless at the same time. He’s the type to scratch at his scalp and pull his hair out – only withholding screaming so not to scare you.

In such periods all he wants is your gentle touch rubbing his sore muscles while you cuddle and kiss his forehead and cheek – telling him that everything will work out and be okay. 

In those periods, the nights are spent with his head buried in your bosom and his hands balling your nightie in tight fists – struggling to keep from crying – while your hand smoothly runs through his hair – only continuing when he finally breaks and starts to jostle with silent sniffles and wet tears staining your chest.

Oral

do they give/receive? how are they giving/receiving?

Katsuki gets lost in you – humping the sheets as he gorges himself. 

Your scent turns him in – your taste turns him on – the soft squishy flesh of your cunty lips kissing him back turns him on – how your thighs quake around his face turns him on – how your hips buck against his jaw turns him on – and the hand you have riddled in his hair, tugging on him in desperate demands as you spill and shake in aftershocks against him turns him on.

It riles him up so much he sheathes himself inside you to the hilt in one fell swoop, once crawling on top of you with hands still buried into the squeezable fat of your thighs, spreading you into a wide-open invitation – groaning against your mouth with your undoing glossing his chin and lips and his breath the scent of your raw arousal.

With your essence on his tongue, he cums almost embarrassingly quickly.

Position

what’s their favorite position? what position are they best?

Katuki’s favorite position is you – flat on your back and belly-up beneath him in a tight sticky mating press. 

Sticky forehead against sticky forehead, sweat sprinkled dewy across your cheeks as you look back up into his eyes with lust and plead – all pooling into one mesmerizing mixture he can’t stop himself from drowning in – his mouth open with heavy huffs and puffs, drool dribbling into your mouth where you pant on beat with his humping. 

Thighs spread wide under the pressure of his hands where he has you folded neatly against the pillow beneath you – lifted from the mattress to meet every single dig of his cock – pulling all the way out before storming your ribs with a deep swing of his hips, slapping against you and filling you all the way up again.

He loves how your thighs quake when he pushes into the very deepest part of you and how your moans lose all energy and devolve into nothing more but pretty pitter-pattering – your eyes glossy and doe-like, wet lashes blinking slowly while looking up into his. Loving how your cunt clenches as how you hold your breath – in anticipation of receiving more of him – how your velvety walls flutter upon the length of him – a sopping wet hot welcome allowing him to burrow deep with ease. 

Reaping what he sows he takes you fully as you are – convinced you were made for him.

Question

do they ask for sexual pleasures? if so, how?

He’ll give you a heads-up rather than a request – a little threat on your phone telling you to do whatever it is you feel you have to do before he comes home because the second he’s home, he’s going to have you up against the nearest wall.

Other times, his warnings come more in the form of the hungry look in his eyes as he silently leers at you from across the dinner table or the other side of the couch. Looking at you like he’s hunting prey – claws coming out to play soon after in how they paw at you right as he lounges to capture you.

He does that – silently attack you – with touches and lips and needy dry-humping until you cave and tell him to take you up to the bedroom instead. He only barely listens – tugging off his belt and pulling his pants down before wrapping your legs around him and lifting you up. Sometimes the two of you don't even make it all the way up the stairs.

Sometimes however, he’ll come after you in softer ways. If you’re already in his arms, and he’s just noticed how close the two of you are – getting so very hot and bothered by the mere realization. 

In moments of downtime… 

When you’re standing there in home attire, plush loafers, and a pretty apron – cutting vegetables for dinner – and he just wants a quick crotchdance as an appetizer for what desert he’ll want after dinner. 

Or, following a long day, when the two of you are snuggled up with a movie in bed hours after the sun’s set – when you’re in his arms, and he’s just incapable of focussing on the plot. 

And other bedtime routines where the two of you’re doing your skincare rituals and getting ready for a shower – and you’re standing there in cute pajamas he knows will be on the floor soon. 

Role-play

do they? if so, what roles? dress-up?

Sometimes he likes to roleplay you as a silly little villain. 

He doesn’t really understand why – but seeing you look all cute and catlike in a black robber’s mask – acting as though he’s arresting you – really riles him up. 

Your initial thought process led you to believe it was a way for him to somehow justify being a bit rougher with you – but later, you found that the fault rather existed in that certain intoxicating sensation of authority he feels when he is in his hero suit – when he has you face-first against a wall with your hands behind you back – cuffing them before kicking your legs open for a search. 

He'll warn you to refrain from resisting as he drags his fingers over the little black costumey spandex you’re wearing to fit the role of a cat burglar – tight booty shorts leaving the crease of your asscheeks exposed, same way the deep dipping slit of the top lets your cleavage almost spill over.

He'll yank your head back with a fist riddled in your hair – looking down at you with that crazed smile you often see on the news, making your chest tight and breath thin – knowing you're in for a hell of a ride.

While other times – mostly to make you giggle – he’ll be the one impersonating a villain. But he’s only silly and cute when pinning you, poking fun with a smile while play-biting at your neck – telling you what shit luck you must have to find yourself in such an unfortunate situation and that he’s going to make you regret walking around without your hero-boyfriend to protect you.

You know it’s not all fun and games, though. You know there's some truth to it for him. You're not blind to the way he sees you as something in need of protecting. It's not exactly as though your supposed weaknesses, along with Katsuki’s temper, aren't two of the most argued subjects the two of you disagree on.

Secrets

impure thoughts/feeling/fantasies they have of you

He has many impure thoughts about you, but he’s all very shameless about expressing those. Ever the honest man, he’ll talk dirty like it’s nobody's business – whispering ever the salacious raunchiest desire right at your ear with a sharp smirk playing on his lips, so sharp you get snagged on it each and every time.

But, there are things he’ll keep to himself – certain stirrings in his stomach that confuse him. When your voice slips into that oh-so seductively sultry tone with your hand filtering through the spikes of hair atop his head, looking down at him with eyes full of love and this other something he’s not sure why makes him so quiet.

His heart goes absolutely feral with fluttering pounding then – even though he knows you’re just being silly – even though he knows you’re just out to pull his leg… He can’t help the chills of goosebumps that spread throughout him when you level him and say something along the lines of good boy~

You fluster him with that, and it’s all too clear with how he blushes bright red and adopts that sheepish look that’s so unlike him – and in the way his voice wavers when he tries and tells you to stop it with that shit.

Toys

do they have? which? when/how do they use them? on who?

One of the drawers in the bedroom is dedicated to Katsuki’s little collection. 

Fluffy cuffs, silken ropes, chains, and tape – all meant to restrain you, as well as other complicated confinements such as spreader bars and armbinders and the like – along with other subjugating toys like leashes, collars, blindfolds, and gag balls – all heavy-duty hardcore means of bondage.

You couldn’t stop blushing the first time he introduced you to the kink – eyes wide and face heated – it actually robbed you of breath. Sure, you’d seen it in porn and felt sticky feelings of pleasure upon what you saw, but you’d never truly imagined it for yourself, at least not to the extent Katsuki was offering.

But he was asking so nicely – in such a sweet way you hadn't ever witnessed him do before – softly reassuring you that you could trust him and that he wouldn’t do anything without making sure you were comfortable with it first.

You couldn’t very well tell him no when you hadn’t even tried it first.

You don’t know what about it he enjoys so much – if it’s the fact that you’re completely pressed beneath his thumb or that you trust him enough to let yourself be – all you know for sure is that Katsuki has a smile on his face every time you have your body in a bind.

Sometimes you giggle and put the cuffs on him – and he’ll do a little muscle dance for you to keep you smiling, looking at you with that very deep red and playful look, watching you try and tease him with feather-light touches and chaste little pecks – waiting for him to snap, break free and punish you hard for being a little brat.

Underwear

on/off? normal/lingerie? naked? colors?

Of course, you make him groan when you wear those spicy intricacies of red lace and mesh – those fiery and flowery patterns of expense that leave little to the imagination and are better left off on the floor after he rips them off you.

But on the other hand – he thinks he finds you sexiest when you’re wearing comfy cotton boxers and no bra but hissignature black T-shirt with the skull print.

When you look like the very epitome of at home. 

There’s just something about seeing you in comfy clothing – be it pajamas or his silly merch, or one of his shirts that just dwarfs you – it’s nice seeing you so natural around him. Clean of all makeup with a pair of fuzzy socks on your feet – looking goofy and cute as you shuffle over to him. 

And there’s something very soothing about it, too, in how it feels so trivial and personal and right – reserved only for him, as though something you’re only comfortable with him seeing.

Volume

are they loud? what sounds do they make? or do they prefer your sounds instead?

It comes as no surprise that Katsuki’s a loudmouth even in bed when he is one everywhere else.

He’s full-throated, with rusty growls and groans, hunting your insides like a wolf chasing down prey – only getting louder the closer he comes, rutting against you hard and fast with his face buried in your skin, softly biting and panting out damp breaths while his hands clutch you tighter.

He likes the sound of your moans too. They drive him wilder – fueling the beast within – making him go rabid. A hand closing around your throat, feeling your noises strum against his palm. Mouth his name, and he loses all composure – hearing it drip, sticky sweet off your tongue, along with drool and a whine. 

His head gets so hot and cloudy it becomes hard to think, only feel the pressure way down low in his pelvis, wanting to burst and bloom and spill and fill you up so good you get hearts in your eyes at the milky warmth.

Wild-card

something sexually specific to this character

There’s a lot of sweat. It’s a slippery sport for the two of you, and it’s only ever more wet come summertime.

But it’s quite a pretty site – the way it becomes like steam pilling and rolling off his tough glistening muscles, sparkly in droplets sprinkled on his tan sand-colored skin, dripping from the spikes in his hair like he’s melting.

It would have been more of a problem if it didn’t smell like sweet honeysuckle and caramel. Sweet yet somewhat burning to the taste, it’s almost like syrup and chili – and quite addictive, you confess while dragging your tongue over the dew on his chest, kissing the scars which paint him like a canvas, and licking your lips clean of the oils as he tugs you by your chin to look up at him.

You can tell he thinks it’s kind of gross – the way he leaves a damp print on the sheets after every sleep – or when the two of you walk together, and he doesn’t want to hold your hand. But you make sure to take him between your fingers, placing kisses to his knuckles – over those places where he’s split his skin on punches or torn and worn them on his quirk. 

He’ll tell you that you look like a pet

X-rated

dirty talk

Curse words, grunting, and filthy little nothings make up most of Katsuki’s dirty talk – plus curt encouraging exclamations of yeah groaned breathily against your neck as the two of you melt against one another.

But it’s when he’s tipsy that his tongue really loosens.

Unknotting into something truly unlike him – lovey-dovey confession just pouring from his lips, mouthing at your skin with his head bowed. 

And it’s not just him telling you how much he loves you – but much sappier stuff – angsty and almost just a little bit worrying stuff… 

How he needs you to be his forever and never leave him, how you should just get pregnant with his kid already, quit your job and be his beautiful housewife who stays at home with the kids, waiting for him to come back from work and fuss over him when he finally walks through the door.

You giggle at him come morning – teasing him for all his silliness while he lies with his head drowned in a pillow and a hangover. You stroke his hair and ask if you should be the good housewife that you are and go bring him breakfast in bed – and he’ll groan at you to shut up.

Yandere

toxic/yandere traits

He knows he’s being insane, and he scolds himself for it – trying his best to keep it to himself and find ways to cope with it without burdening you.

But the truth is he finds your life outside him annoying.

He wished you’d leave all of it behind you once you moved in with him – but you’re still leaving for work on days he’s off duty and out with friends when he comes home. You still have people calling you when you’re eating dinner and others texting you when you’re having sex. You’ll bump into people you know when the two of you’re out and give his arm a little punch afterward, telling him how you wished he’d be a little nicer.

But the thing you don’t understand is that all those pesky friends of yours – all those old classmates and boyfriends and girlfriends and coworkers – they’re all competing for your attention. And it doesn’t always feel like he’s the one winning when you blow him off to hang out with them instead.

And aside from people, it’s your job that keeps you from him. 

Some days he wonders if you’d say yes if he asked you to move out of the country with him. But you’re always going on about your carrier and your dreams, and he fears you’d resent him if he asked you to give it all up.

It bothers him to no end – hurts him – because if it were a choice to hang out with his friends or you, he’d pick youevery time. And when it comes to his job… he honestly thinks he’d give it all up if it meant you’d only ever look at him for the rest of your lives.

Zone

what part of you do they love the most?

Your voice and the look on your face when you say his name. 

He hopes you always look at him that way. Softly yet vividly with a gentle smile shaping your lips – one which only widens the longer you look until fully blooming into something that tugs at his heart, giggling out something silly, like calling him a creep for staring at you for so long.

If only you knew… He could stare at you all day until sleep forced his eyes closed. 

He gets so upset when he doesn’t get to see you. He pulls up his phone with a pout to FaceTime you, growling out a curse word if you don’t pick up – opening up photos for comfort instead. 

He has no need to create or pick any album – he only ever takes pictures of you. 

It’s mostly goofy pics of you eating food he’s made for you. Others where you’re sleeping – especially if you’re sleeping on or next to him. And a few more risqué shots, where you’re either dressed only in underwear or nothing at all. Plus, a couple of photos you’ve told him to delete – those where you’re sweaty and messy – with his cum drooping shut one eye, dripping off your cheek like glaze, running down your plump lips into your gaping mouth, landing perfectly on your welcoming tongue.

Still looking up at him with those eyes.

Those soft yet vivid eyes he can stare into forever. 

tip-jar: Kofi