#be gentle with them they're fragile

[rewiredmind]

Thank you to anon w/ the lute idea I would NOT have thought of that🔥

Anyways TEN!! OF THEM !! I am hoping I missed no request 😞😞 little Jane is gonna go to little Carlos🙏 she was specifically D1 so they'd match

[pinkd3mon]

Gardening pals

[yeleltaan]

How do you need to be touched?

Two results depending on the answer to one question:

gently.

You need to be held as though you're going to break. you need someone to trace your scars like cracks in a wall, crumbling. their touch is almost painful; you've been without it for too long, without someone to hold you. but, you cannot bring yourself to pull away.

fervently.

You crave a hug that cracks your ribs... the feeling of your wandering soul being crushed back into the bones that can't seem to hold it. you need a hand gripping yours so tightly you almost fear it may leave a bruise, a reminder that you are here. and that you are not alone.

Tagged by: @derjaegermond ! Thanks 8] Tagging: hey... hey you. Reader. I'm tagging you.

[agentplutonium]

Avior always wanted to do a book swap with his Starlight.

It was so simple, and yet his heart did a flip at the thought of Starlight picking out a book for him to read. They would spend the time picking out the one they thought he'd enjoy most, reading over each description and thinking of him. Putting so much care, effort and love into the act. Avior would do the same.

They would meet up after they'd both paid, Starlight giddy with excitement. Avior would try to peak in the bag, only to get lightly smacked away.

"It's a surprise!" They said, "You can't peak!"

"I'm not even going to get a hint?" Avior teased.

"Absolutely not!"

"Not even if I give you a kiss?"

"You can try, but I can't promise anything," Starlight said, giggling to themselves when he leaned in.

They spent the evening curled up together on the couch, in front of the fire that crackled softly. Avior found himself getting lost in the feeling of his Starlight leaning against him, their warmth seeping into his side.

Avior felt calm. Safe, even. Years after the Dante knock off hell, he believed he finally found... peace. Love. Hope for a better future. A future with his Starlight.

A future where they live a quiet life, not in any pain or misery. One where they can be happy. Together.

[seobinghard]

₊‧ʚ・ gullible ⊹ ̟˖ ʚ

18+ MDNI

dom!yunho, dom!mingi x afab!sub!reader ⭑ tags: best friend!au ⭑ tw: corruption kink, size kink, dubcon, manipulation, subtle sub/dom space, somnophilia, praising, finger sucking, unprotected sex (pls use protection), creampie. lmk if i missed anything. don't like, don't read. ⭑ summary: you should've known better.

best friends!yunho and mingi love having you sit in between them. whether you're on the subway, at the club or on the couch binge watching old hollywood movies. you just look so small and fragile with your cute glossy eyes and pouty lips, they can't help but feel the urge to protect and be close to you all the time. sometimes, they'll sneak their arms around your waist or slip their hands between your thighs, large palms gently caressing your bare skin, but that's only because the movie is scary and they want to help you relax. right?

when you've had one too many drinks at hongjoong's after parties, yunho would beckon you to come over and sit on his lap. "y/n, c'mere." you'll snuggle up to him like a little kitten and lay your legs on mingi's as he absentmindedly fiddles with the straps of your heels, hooded eyes flitting from your lips to the curve of your breasts. from afar, people are staring and whispering but you don't care. because yunho and mingi always tells you "they don't know us, baby."

and you believe them. you believe them completely because best friends always tell the truth, right?

yunho and mingi are always there to catch you when you fall.

flat tire? calling yunho. "i'm on my way, angel." bad day? facetiming mingi. "talk to me, pretty girl." every time there's a minor inconvenience in your life, you're running straight to your favourite boys because they just know how to handle anything and everything with such ease and responsibility. problems fixed. cheque signed. "it's okay, angel, we got this."

no one loves you like yunho and mingi.

they love you so much.

so when mingi tells you to wear his t-shirt and only your panties to bed, you happily nod "okay!" with no second thoughts because he only wants you to feel comfortable when they cuddle you to sleep, right? that must be it.

i mean, you do this all the time; cuddling. it's a way for them to feel closer to you; 'bond' with you, as they put it.

you love cuddling sessions with yunho and mingi, they're always so gentle with you. your petite frame a perfect fit between their broad chests, legs the perfect length for mingi to slide his knee in between as he spoons you. your skin is so soft he could tear you open like a present but he wouldn't do that. no, not to his sweet angel girl. so instead, he snakes his arm under your shirt and pulls you closer to his body so you can feel how much he loves you.

"mhm, so perfect for me," he whispers in your hair, fingers playing with the thin lace of your panties. you smell like fresh cut roses.

"you like it when we touch you, angel?" yunho asks calmly, tracing his finger along your jaw and down your neck. face propped on his elbow, he watches with a smile as you soften under his touch, nodding and purring at the affection you're receiving from both men.

"i like it, yuyu."

"you'll do anything for me and mingi, right, baby?"

"mhm, anything for yuyu and mingi," you slur, fatigue creeping up your spine.

you feel mingi smile against the nape of your neck.

something about the air feels tight and different tonight but you don't question it. you don't want to question it. especially when yunho stares at you with so much tenderness, it leaves your heart grasping for more. it's intoxicating; their scents—clean and musky like the faint trace of skin.

as the night unfolds, your eyes flutter shut as sleep takes over you.

you love best friends!yunho and mingi. nothing in the world comes even close to the euphoria of being the object of their adoration.

so when you wake up to soft pants in your ear and aching an pain between your legs, will you still love them?

"f-fuck."

mingi's groan snaps you out of your haze as you gradually slip back into your senses only to find your panties slid to the side and your best friend's sloppy wet dick inside your barely stretched-out cunt.

the sound of skin on skin cuts through the quiet of the room as mingi slams his hip into your ass at a pace so desperate, so rough it leaves you clawing at yunho's sweater with tears in your eyes. "y-yuyu? what's happening?"

yunho looks at you with eyes you've never seen on him before—chilling and dark with lust. he's quiet, eyes trailing the way your breasts bounce with every hard thrust you're forced to take from behind. soft moans slip past your lips, melding with his best friend's strained groans and the squelchy sound of your sobbing cunt.

"told you she likes it," mingi chuckles, voice crazed and raspy, one hand sliding up to grab at your neck. "yeah, you like that, baby? tell yunho you like being woken up to my dick inside you."

"i– ngnhh– i like–" your mewls are cut off when mingi slips two fingers between your folds, toying at your clit like it belongs to him. like you belong to him.

"oh, my angel," yunho coos, caressing your cheek before slipping his thumb inside your mouth. "you're so naughty."

you want to tell him 'no'—no, you didn't ask for this. but who are you to act like you're not enjoying it when you're a spluttering mess in your best friend's bed.

"shh, why're you crying?" his words are so sweet yet mockery drips from every syllable. "now, now, don't cry, my angel. be good for mingi."

yunho revels in the sight of your teary cheeks as your tongue laps around his thumb, drool leaking down your cheek and onto your pillow. god, you're fucking beautiful, he thinks, feeling his dick swell with every helpless whimper you make. he grabs your jaw and slips his tongue in your pretty little mouth, sucking at your bottom lip, and swallowing any confusion you're still harbouring, because you're not meant to have any.

the rules have been clear from the start; you belong to them. not their fault you're too gullible to see what's in front of you all this time.

"you said you'll do anything for us, remember?" yunho breaths.

"y-yes— nngh—" you whimper, feeling the knot tighten in your stomach. "mingi, i can't—"

you're close and mingi can sense it from the way you're clenching around him.

"fuck, cum for me, baby. that's it ... that's it."

it only takes you digging your nails in his hair and letting out a scream of his name for mingi to cum. he empties inside you and drops his head on the pillow, letting out a guttural groan against the back of your neck as you both come down from your high.

"such a good girl," yunho smiles, stroking your hair lovingly, "always so good for us."

his smile quickly fades.

"now turn around."

© seobinghard 2025. all rights reserved.

m.list

[okaylikeschaewon]

Return

10k words, TPM Series Part 1, smut, Series Masterlist

There are days where everything just feels right and nothing can really dampen your spirits. When the sun shines just a little bit brighter and the air feels just a little bit cleaner. Today, unfortunately, was probably not one of those days. No, it definitely was not one of those days. That rock in your stomach weighing you down was all the confirmation you needed.

In a world where laughter echoed like music, Twice stood as a beacon of joy, their vibrant energy could light up every room they entered and every stage they took. Those infectious smiles that brought fans from across the globe together, a reflection of the bond Twice themselves maintained amongst each other - the perfect show of leading by example. Each individual member was like a fun little musical note, and the beauty was how they all came together to become a symphony of love, resonating far beyond the stage deep into the hearts of their fans.

Yet, none of that was present this morning. The air in the conference room was thick with an unspoken tension, each heartbeat echoing like a countdown. Sana, Nayeon, and Momo sat together, faces full of axiomatic unease. Sana fiddled with the hem of her shirt, eyes darting to the door every few seconds as if the solution to her worries were waiting to knock. Nayeon, attempting to maintain a facade of calmness, drummed her fingers nervously against the table. And Momo’s eyes darted around the room, unable to settle.

Isolated from the other three, Dahyun sat by the window - her usual bright demeanor dimmed, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. You walked across the room, taking a seat next to her in silence. She turned to you, acknowledging your existence with a nod before turning her attention back to the gentle raindrops spilling down the glass.

“I just don’t understand why they're taking so long,” Momo broke the silence, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

The question lingered, met by more silence as the girls exchanged glances. Their eyes felt fragile and the stakes seemed higher than ever. That bond they had built over the years felt more delicate than ever in this moment.

“Like I said earlier,” you replied softly. “None of them have said no as far as I know, they’re simply negotiating terms.”

“What happens if they don’t sign?” Sana added quietly.

“Hey,” Nayeon shuffled her chair closer to Sana, tilting her head slightly, her voice a soothing melody amidst the tension. “Whether or not they sign doesn’t change anything, but they’ll sign.”

Sana looked up, meeting Nayeon’s warm gaze. “But what if…”

“Let’s not play the ‘what if’ game,” Nayeon interrupted her with a reassuring smile. “It’s not like we haven’t faced challenges before, we’ll get through this one just like always. As Twice.”

“They’ll sign,” Momo added with confidence.

A half-hearted smile was all Sana could muster as Nayeon leaned forward in her chair, wrapping her arms around her. You stood up from your own chair and bent over, planting a gentle kiss on Dahyun’s forehead as she remained fixated on the window. You walked towards the door, pausing only to give Momo a quick and reassuring hug, silently informing her that everything was going to be alright.

“I’m going to get some updates,” you stated as you opened the door. “I’m almost certain everyone is going to sign, I’m just going to see how the negotiations are going.”

Nayeon flashed you an encouraging smile before picking her phone up off the table and distracting herself.

—

“Come in.”

Inside, in far better spirits than the previous room, sat Jihyo smiling up at you.

“Good news?”

“Great news,” Jihyo replied cheerily. “They’re basically giving me everything I wanted, they’ve even agreed to expedite the boring logistic stuff for my solo.”

“That’s great,” you smiled back. “They’re writing up the new contract with your lawyer I assume?”

“Yup, I even made sure to add some amendments to the others’, basically giving anyone who signs some more power.”

“All these years as the official leader has really instilled the values in you hasn’t it?” you chuckled. “Speaking of which, if you’re done with the negotiations, do you mind heading back to the main room and trying to cheer them up a bit? I’ve tried but…”

“I understand,” Jihyo nodded, standing up and walking over with a prominent spring in her step. “I’ve only spoken with Mina and Chae so far, I’m fairly certain those two are signing. Actually, I’m pretty sure everyone is signing from what they’ve told me before.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking as well, Chaeyoung just wants more freedom and I can’t imagine they’d have an issue with that,” you agreed, holding the door open for Jihyo. “Even though it’s mostly a formality at this stage though, I can’t help but feel a tiny bit nervous.”

“That’s fair, I am too,” Jihyo replied, for the first time showing a hint of unease. "You'll let us know what the others say as soon as you find out?”

“Of course, thank you Jihyo,” you answered before leaving her to make your way to the next room. 

As you waited patiently for the elevator, the doors opened and you were met with Chaeyoung stepping out while happily sipping on what you could only assume was an iced Americano. “Done with negotiations?” you questioned the unbothered girl.

“Yup,” Chaeyoung replied casually. “I’m free!”

Your heart sank.

“Not like that, I mean free from signing stuff,” she quickly explained after seeing your expression. “They agreed to give me full freedom.”

“Oh,” you sighed, your pulse quickly dropping back to normal as you took a couple of deep breaths. You paused, the curiosity weighing on you as your brain was working at half speed. “What does full freedom mean exactly?”

“Basically everything! Tattoos, piercings, boys, whatever I want,” she answered happily.

“Boys?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” she smirked before leaning closer to you and whispering into your ear. “Until I find a boyfriend, you’ll still be fucking my tight ass.”

“Jesus,” you laughed, giving her a little playful spank. “Well shit, keep me updated on that, yeah?”

“I guess now that technically it’s allowed, I’ll tell you something, but you can’t tell any other staff,” Chaeyoung continued before taking a drawn-out sip. “I’ve actually been talking to a couple of guys already.”

“Couple of guys? Imagine the headlines,” you teased. “Twice’s Chaeyoung confirms having a roster.”

“Oh stop it,” she hit your shoulder. “None of them are serious - well, except maybe one - we’ve just been messaging casually.”

“Yeah? Anything promising?”

“I think there might be? He’s actually in the industry,” she answered. “He reached out to me, but I’ll tell you more later, I’m still not entirely sure about it.”

“No rush, that’s your business, you already know I’ll be here for you regardless.”

“Thank you,” Chaeyoung smiled warmly. “Do you know where the others are waiting? I know they’ve been losing their minds unnecessarily, I wanna tell them to relax.”

After telling her where they were waiting, you gave her a quick hug goodbye and entered the elevator, continuing your journey to the next room. It wasn’t easy to explain, but you had a feeling this one wouldn’t be as cheery as the previous two, that this might actually be one of the trickier situations where your worry was stemming from. As you approached the door, you gave it a gentle knock just to be given no response.

About a minute passed before you gave another gentle knock. Again, no response, so this time you cautiously opened the door slightly. You peered into the room and saw Jeongyeon having what looked like a passionate argument with a lady who you assumed was her lawyer.

“I thought I made myself clear when I said I’ll come get you when we’re ready to keep discussing terms,” the lawyer hissed once she noticed you.

“It’s fine, he’s my manager,” Jeongyeon explained, making eye contact with you. “I’d actually like to speak to him in private, please.”

“You really shouldn’t be talking to anyone from the company without me being present right now.”

“I’ll be alright, trust me,” Jeongyeon reassured her. “Please.”

The lawyer looked more frustrated than ever, but eventually after seeing Jeongyeon’s persistence, she sighed and stood up. “Five minutes, then I’m coming back and we’re finishing this conversation.”

“Thank you,” Jeongyeon replied as the lawyer left the room, leaving just the two of you alone.

The room felt heavy with unspoken words as you sat down in front of Jeongyeon. She sat on the edge of her chair, her hands nervously folding the corners of the papers in front of her.

“Jeongyeon,” you began softly. “How are you holding up?”

She looked up, her eyes reflecting a mix of uncertainty and frustration with a hint of exhaustion. “I don’t know. I’m just… I’m not sure if renewing is the right choice for me.”

Slowly, you leaned forward in your chair. “Why are you hesitant?” you asked delicately, realizing this would be a very straight-to-the-point type of conversation.

Jeongyeon sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I… sometimes I just feel like there’s this weird weight on my shoulders, you know?” she began. “Like this stupid pressure to just always be perfect, always be happy, I just don’t know if I can keep that up.”

“I get that,” you replied. “As an idol it probably feels like the entire world is expecting you to - like you said - be perfect. But you don’t have to be, you’re allowed to be unsure just like everyone else.”

“But what if I’m holding everyone back?” Jeongyeon’s usual bravado breaking slightly as her voice trembled. “This would be my opportunity to step away, to stop being a burden.”

“You’re not holding anyone back, you’re part of a team. They need you just as much as you need them,” you reassured her. “And that doesn’t mean you have to renew.”

She leaned back in her chair, seemingly frustrated with the universe. “I just wish I could see the future, I’m kinda scared of making a decision that I’ll regret.”

“That’s understandable, but do you find yourself regretting your past choices?”

“Well,” Jeongyeon hesitated. “I mean, sometimes, but usually no.”

“Ah-”

“I just mean that there have been times where I’ve done things to… fit in… things that I probably wouldn’t have otherwise done,” Jeongyeon explained. “I just want to be like the others in that regard.”

“You don’t have to be someone who you don’t want to be, no one will hold it against you.”

“I know you’re right, but I just find myself worrying about it sometimes.”

“All we can do is take one step at a time, no one can know how things will turn out,” you replied, offering her a comforting smile. “Whatever you decide, I promise you they’re going to all support your decision.”

She took some time to think about what you said, seemingly taking it into very serious consideration. Or perhaps she was beginning to doubt herself? It was hard to say what exactly was bothering her the most, but all you could do was be patient - she had to make this decision on her own.

“You’re probably right,” she sighed eventually. “I think I’m going to do it.”

A moment of silence passed.

“Sorry, just to be clear…”

“I’m going to renew,” she answered your unasked question. “But my lawyer is probably going to make sure my new contract doesn’t lock me into anything. We were talking about having the final choice when it comes to schedules.”

“I think the company will be more than happy to comply, that’s not asking for too much.”

“Thank you for this,” Jeongyeon said quietly under her breath. “I feel like sometimes I understand what you’re saying without you even saying it.”

“I’m glad I could help, that’s my job after all,” you smiled, standing up from your chair. “But I’m going to get out of here before that scary lady comes back and yells at me.”

“She’s not that bad,” Jeongyeon chuckled.

—

“Two left,” you whispered under your breath, feeling a bit better about the remaining members

“Come in,” that beautifully delicate voice you knew so well came through the door.

Inside, you found Mina in her lonesome sitting on a couch with her legs crossed, hands in her lap as she stared up at the roof, not even bothered enough to look at you as you entered the room. It wasn’t until you walked over and sat down next to her did she finally lower her gaze and turn to you, a blank expression on her face.

“How’s it going?” you asked once she finally gave you some attention.

“Lonely as fuck,” Mina replied. “Excuse my French.”

“I’m sorry, they-”

“Don’t want us to influence each other, yeah yeah yeah I’ve heard it all already, I don’t need to hear it from you as well.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop…” Mina’s voice trailed off as she let out a frustrated sigh, pausing mid sentence. The silence was palpable, both of you acutely aware of the weight of the moment. Mina took another sigh before finishing her thought. “I’m sorry, it’s just that things are kinda complicated, I shouldn’t be lashing out at you.”

“What exactly do you mean when you say things are complicated right now?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe the fact that I almost quit once already? This is a very real chance for me to leave this life behind.”

“Even if you felt that way before, what matters is how you feel now,” you replied softly. “Do you still feel like you want to step away?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then it sorta sounds like you know what you want to do,” you continued just as softly. “So, what do you think is bothering you? What’s making it difficult still? I can tell there’s obviously something.”

“There isn’t.”

“Yes there is.”

“No there is not!”

“Mina,” you spoke carefully after taking a pause. “You’ve snapped at me twice in the matter of seconds now. We both know this isn’t like you.”

“I know,” she sighed as if disappointed in herself. “Sorry, really, it’s just a lot…”

“We don’t have to talk about it, I was just checking in,” you added earnestly. “If you would rather discuss with someone else, I can leave.”

“Please don’t,” she muttered quietly before you could stand up. “Just stay and… just stay.”

“Okay.”

The room became unusually quiet, air thick with tension as the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioning. Each passing second was stretched into an eternity as both of you waited in a feeble attempt to figure out who was supposed to speak first. You honestly were caught off guard with this, you thought Mina would be an easy one.

“So…” you started, but the word hung awkwardly in the air before both of you fell silent again.

Mina shifted her body slightly, a nervous laugh escaping her before she replied. “This is really odd.”

“Yup,” you replied, casually playing with a loose string on the armrest. “But it is kinda your fault.”

“I never said it wasn’t.”

“Good, because it is.”

“You’re not helping.”

“You’re not letting me help.”

The silence returned, heavier this time. You could feel your heart start racing as you desperately wanted to say something meaningful to absolve the situation of tension, but you knew you had to be patient.

Mina finally turned to face you, her eyes tender. “I’ve been thinking about… things,” her voice trailed off again.

“Things?” you echoed, leaning in slightly in an attempt to encourage her to continue.

“Yeah like, you know, things,” she repeated. “I just don’t know how to say it.”

“There really aren’t many things you can’t tell me, if any. You know this,” you replied casually but gently. “What’s making it so difficult this time?”

“Maybe the fact that I fucking love you?”

The room went silent yet again, the world turned still. Your heart stopped beating for a moment before rapidly catching up, making up for the missed beats by working twice as hard.

“Mina…”

“I’m serious,” she leaned in closer, her fingers brushed against your thigh, the tender touch that sent shivers through you. With each slow, deliberate movement, Mina seemed to ease the tension away, calming your heart rate, her presence grounding you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. “I love you,” she whispered as she leaned in even closer, her voice resonating with sincerity.

As she continued to lean in, her breath warm against your skin, she began pressing her lips softly against yours. The kiss was tentative at first, a barely-audible whisper of affection, but it very quickly deepened as you started to feel her pouring her feelings into it. The intensity of her love was more than evident in every brush of her lips, conveying her feelings in a way words could never.

“Mina…” you murmured between kisses, barely taking a breath as your heart threatened to jump out of your chest.

“I love you,” she breathed, her whisper echoing in your ears.

She pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, her own shining as her emotion became too much to handle. With dewy eyes and unspoken words, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to yours again, this time more fervently - Her timidness disappearing with each consecutive kiss.

“You make me feel safe,” she added as her hand inched upwards from your thigh towards your waistband. “Like I can be myself without any fear, without holding back.”

With that, Mina pressed her lips to yours again with a mix of tenderness and urgency that spoke volumes. Meanwhile, her hand delicately slipped into your pants, her fingers gently began caressing your shaft before they slowly pulled it out.

“Maybe now’s not the best time,” you gasped before Mina pressed her mouth against yours again.

“Let me show you how much I love you,” she mumbled into your mouth, holding her forehead against yours as she gently wrapped her fingers around your cock. Her fingers, hesitating for just a moment, began to slowly stroke your shaft, spreading the little bubble of your precum evenly along your length. Her lips brushed against yours one more time, softer than ever. “I’ve been thinking about how I felt when I thought you were leaving, how much it hurt.”

“You mean the world to me,” your words were met with one last kiss before Mina began sliding off the couch, dropping to her knees in front of you. “Are you sure you want…”

She hushed you with her eyes, almost angrily, as she began stroking you faster. As her movements became more confident, the warmth of her touch seemed to melt away any lingering awkwardness in the room. Each stroke was tender, almost reverent, the connection between you two deepened, and every heartbeat echoed in your ears.

As Mina continued stroking your shaft - eliciting a few quiet breaths from your lips - her expression reflected a blend of tenderness and vulnerability. Her eyes shimmered with affection, a hint of shyness in her gaze as if she was both thrilled and a little nervous about the intimacy of the moment. She looked right into your eyes, seeking reassurance, her cheeks flushed with warmth, wanting nothing more than to make sure you can feel her devotion.

Then, suddenly, a sharp gasp escaped your lips as Mina leaned forward and pressed her lips against your balls. As she planted countless tender kisses, her hands continued moving with purpose - each movement deliberate, infused with her passion for you.

“I fucking love you,” you moaned, closing your eyes as Mina wrapped her mouth around your sack, engulfing it fully. “Fuck… Mina… you’re fucking amazing.”

With a soft pop, she released your balls, her eyes widened as she looked up at you with joy flickering across her features. Then, that beautifully radiant smile of hers came out, illuminating her face as she was overwhelmed by joy.

Without even thinking, you leaned forward and cupped her face in your hands before pressing your lips against hers, shoving your tongue into her mouth to be met with hers, playfully intertwining and wrestling.

At the same time, with renewed energy, Mina’s gentle but firm fingers resumed working on your cock. She began rubbing her palm against your tip, clawing your shaft with her fingers, slowly moving up and down as the two of you kissed. With every stroke, you seemed to melt into the moment more and more, indulging yourself in the pleasures of losing your mind with sensation.

Mina leaned back, ending the kiss - truthfully leaving you somewhat disappointed. However, the disappointment didn’t last long at all, as Mina plunged downwards, wrapping her mouth around your cock before swirling her tongue around your shaft. With her brows slightly furrowed, her movements became completely fluid and confident, moving her lips up and down your cock with ease.

“Oh fuck, Mina…” you cried out as her hand began caressing your balls.

Her expertise really began to show as she worked your cock, applying just the right amount of pressure, washing away any remnants of tension, enveloping your cock in a haze of comfort and warmth. Each motion echoed the affection she felt towards you, it was like she knew exactly how to make you feel best - which she probably did at this point.

It was becoming difficult to concentrate on anything but the blissful feeling radiating from Mina’s throat. Your thoughts began blurring as you started slipping into a state of numbness, that rhythm of your connection with Mina taking over your world. It took all of the willpower you could muster to hold yourself back, to stop yourself from coating the inside of Mina’s mouth white.

Despite how fucking divine Mina felt in this moment, it was a blessing in disguise when she lifted her mouth off your cock, shifting her hand from your balls back to your shaft. She stopped mere moments before you were about to hit your point of no return.

“I need you to fuck me,” she moaned, tightening her grip on your cock, giving it a couple of final strokes before getting off her knees and grabbing your hand, forcing you to stand up as she pulled you towards the meeting table. “Right now.”

“Mina, your lawyer could come back at any second, this is already way too-”

“I don’t care,” she begged, letting go of your hand and turning around. She bent over at the hips, reaching up her skirt before tugging her sheer panties down to her ankles and leaning on the table. She looked back at you with eyes filled to the brim with love before letting out a single word in a soft whisper. “Please.”

She had you. It would take an act of God to stop you at this point with how hard your cock was throbbing just at the idea of fucking Mina right now. It no longer mattered that you were at the offices and anyone could walk in at any moment. You didn’t even care enough to waste time walking across the room to lock the door. As soon as you flipped Mina’s skirt up, seeing her perfect ass presenting itself to you, you knew you made the right decision.

Without wasting another moment, you stepped into her body, rubbing your cock between her ass until you found her entrance. You placed a hand on her lower back, holding her down as you slowly inserted your shaft into her pussy. It was impossible to keep count of how many times you’ve been in this position at this point with your cock inside Mina, but one thing was certain - she’s never been this wet before. Mina’s pussy has never felt better, as if it was perfectly made just for your cock.

As you began to slowly move in and out of Mina’s body, her head dropped down to the table, her arms flexed as her elbows dug into the dark mahogany. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she pushed backwards into your body slightly, enhancing the sensation of your thrusts. Her shoulders began to visibly relax, succumbing to pleasure before your eyes.

Every few moments she would moan out, her breath hitching each time you hit a particularly sensitive spot or when the angle was just right. She would look back at you, eyes half-lidded as she bit her lip, silently begging for you to keep going before facing forward and letting her face drop to the table instinctively.

Her breaths were becoming more shallow and quick, almost perfectly reflecting the pressure building up in your cock. You had to slow down your rhythm, focusing on pushing your entire length into her pussy in slow, drawn out movements, all just to hold yourself back selfishly to keep going just a bit longer.

The end was nearing rapidly as a few beads of sweat began falling from your forehead. Your hands, both gripping Mina’s ass, began trembling, pressing deeper into her softness. Her breathing grew deeper and more relaxed, the energy dissipating as she was dealing with her own overwhelming sensation as you found a rhythm that resonated between the two of you.

And then your mind went completely blank. There was nothing in the world other than the sound of your skin slapping against Mina’s perfect ass. It lasted for an eternity - or realistically just a couple of seconds - before a particularly sharp gasp escaped Mina’s lips, bringing you back to reality as you felt a rush of your warm cum leak out of Mina’s pussy right before your cock began exploding, launching white ropes inside her.

Pulling out was completely out of the question as you found yourself lost in the overwhelming bliss of it all. The electric blend of your cock releasing combined with Mina’s moans created this beautiful moment where you felt your body melting away at Mina’s touch. You felt your cock emptying itself completely in Mina’s pussy as the world began to creep back into reality before you slowly removed your cock, leaving you breathless but also acutely aware of the current situation.

“Shit, quickly before someone walks in,” you gasped, just as breathless as Mina, while reaching across the table to grab some tissues.

Mina lifted herself up off the table, turning around to face you before hopping up on the table with her legs spread, smiling brightly at you. Before you could wipe the mess you left on her legs away, she pulled you into a long, drawn-out kiss.

“Thank you,” she muttered as her lips gently parted from yours.

“Never thank me for this,” you smiled at her as you began wiping her legs clean. “I’m glad I… helped?”

“You did,” Mina giggled softly, taking the tissues from your hand and wiping herself. “I feel a lot better about renewing.”

“We probably should talk about-”

“Not now,” Mina interjected. “I just want to enjoy what we just did, that felt better than usual…”

“I’m fine with that,” you agreed, leaning forward and giving her a quick kiss. “Do you want me to wait with you until your lawyer comes back?”

“Wow, really in a hurry to leave after nutting in me?”

“What, no I-” you stammered before Mina burst out laughing.

“I’m kidding, get out of here before I have to lie to my lawyer about what you were doing in here.”

—

With that done, you’ve confirmed eight of the nine Twice members. There was just one girl left for you to meet with, the one you didn’t initially think you’d have to worry about, and you especially didn’t think you had to worry when just a few minutes ago you received an email saying all nine members have agreed to renew - albeit in varying degrees.

Yet she was nowhere to be found. No one seemed to know either. This was odd to say the least, usually you were the first person to know about anything happening with Twice, but right now you were as lost as you could be. Finally, after talking to an executive, you were informed that Tzuyu was in a private meeting with some of the board.

Was she in trouble? You wanted to just assume something positive, like maybe she petitioned to start working on her solo or something, but it didn’t make sense for her to not at least tell you about it. Maybe she was upset with you about the whole breakup thing and then you getting with Sana so soon after? No, that would be absurd, right? That was all in the past, she was probably just busy. All the negative thoughts were exhausting, you needed a temporary distraction until you could talk to Tzuyu. You flipped open your phone, and to no surprise at all, saw a few direct messages from the members.

Chaeyoung straight up messaged you saying she wanted to fuck - really lacking in subtlety at times - to which you teased her by suggesting she could just hit up someone from her roster. She wasn’t too happy about that one, but she’d get over it. If not, you’d just have to make it up to her by doing something you’d be more than happy to do anyway. Confirmation of her annoyance came when she messaged you saying she was taking Dahyun out to a secret club tonight. That piqued your curiosity, but she stopped replying. You’d have to remember to find out more about this club later.

Sana had also messaged you, asking if you wanted to watch a very specific movie tonight. This would seem harmless to most, but you knew Sana’s game all too well; With how the night goes every time you’ve tried watching this movie together, it was essentially code for something else. You replied telling her that you just had to take care of a couple of work-related things first, promising her that you’d watch the movie with her later tonight.

After sending a quick reply to Nayeon who was asking you to come in with her tomorrow for her solo practice by telling her you’d obviously love nothing more than to accompany her - to which she replied essentially saying she wants you to fuck her tomorrow - you scrolled a bit more down your contacts. The Twice girls were all so horny tonight, you had almost every option at your fingertips, maybe because of the whole contract thing and all the stress. Unfortunately you were still dealing with this insufferable nagging in the back of your head, one that you desperately needed a distraction from.

—

“Thanks for coming.”

“Don’t be stupid, you wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t think I’d come,” Momo replied without even looking up from the menu. “It’s just such a rare offer nowadays, ever since you and Sana started this whole boyfriend girlfriend thing.”

“We’re not boyfriend girlfriend,” you protested.

“We’re not boyfriend girlfriend,” Momo mocked you with a teasing voice. “Yeah, and I hate food.”

“Seems like it with how long you’re taking.”

“Well, have you seen how many different options there are?” Momo whined, pouting at the menu. Even though she wore a beanie nearly covering her eyes, you could see her rapidly scanning across the page trying to decide. “Can we just get like four and share?”

“Order the whole menu if you want, I’m charging it to the company anyway.”

And she did just that.

“That poor waitress,” you chuckled, leaning back into the booth. “I forgot how absurd you can be when it comes to food.”

“See, it is a rare occurrence, you’ve even forgotten the basics,” Momo nudged you softly in the ribs before sliding closer, resting her hand on your thigh. “So, any particular reason you called me?”

“You’re going to make fun of me and probably won’t believe it, but I really just felt like spending some time with you. Feels like life has just been so hectic lately.”

“No,” Momo replied with an unexpected softness. “I believe you, I’ve missed this.”

“Me too,” you sighed before wrapping your arm around Momo’s shoulder. “Do you think there’s enough privacy here?”

“Yes,” Momo whispered as she leaned into you and kissed you, reading your mind.

The urgency behind Momo’s lips was intoxicating - like when you’re doing something you shouldn’t do, but you’re doing it anyway. She pressed harder, nearly knocking you out of the booth, forcing you to push back. Then, just as quickly as it started, she pulled back, leaving you desperate for more.

“You know, I enjoy spending time with you outside of work and sex,” Momo noted casually before reaching for her mochaccino and taking a sip. “I feel like you’ve gotten better at that, by the way.”

“I’ve been practicing.”

Momo gave you another nudge in the ribs, this time significantly harder as if there was actually a bit of annoyance behind the jest. “Idiot,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“I just meant like, practicing so that I can be better for you!”

“Stop talking, my cake is coming,” Momo replied coldly as her eyes fixated on the tray of sweets being walked to your table. “Thank you so much,” she gushed in her most adorably cute voice towards the waitress, eyes scanning each plate as it was placed on the table, looking for her first target.

“You’re welcome,” the waitress replied with a smile before walking away.

“What should I try first?” Momo asked, seemingly no longer upset with you.

“Can’t go wrong with chocolate.”

“Coconut!” she reached forward excitedly.

“Or that,” you chuckled, reaching for a slice of what looked like strawberry for yourself.

To your surprise, Momo held up the first bite for you to try. You accepted the piece from her fork, nodding happily as the combination of coconut and chocolate hit your tongue.

“That’s good,” you mumbled, covering your mouth with your hand.

“Oooooh,” she moaned, widening her eyes in delight as she took a bite herself.

Each consecutive bite had you captivated with how her expression changed - she was completely lost in the moment. It was like watching a kid in a candy store, she couldn’t hide her happiness at all. Her eyes sparkled with each bite she took and with each bite she made you take from her fork.

“I don’t think we’re finishing all of these,” Momo began giggling with her cheeks full after taking what felt like her hundredth unique bite of cake. “Why’d you order so many?”

“What do you-”

“Kidding,” she wiped a bit of frosting on your cheek. “You have something on your face.”

“Oh do I?” you shook your head with an uncontrollable smile on your face.

“I got it,” Momo leaned forward and pressed her mouth against your cheek. “There you go!”

The two of you laughed, relishing in the light atmosphere, enjoying each other’s company. It became pretty clear to you at this moment - filled with cake and silliness - how much you enjoyed being around Momo. You’ve honestly missed this more than you even realized. There was a tinge of sadness in the back of your mind though, knowing you didn’t have the time to do this with her more often, especially knowing soon the group would be touring the world again, and you knew their next tour would last significantly longer than this one.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten that deal we made when I first joined the team,” you stated, playing with the chocolate frosting on your plate.

“Which one? We’ve made a few,” Momo giggled as she took another bite. “You mean the one where you’ll always take me out for food if I ask? Or the one where I get on my kn-”

“Yeah, breakfast, lunch, or dinner, I’ll never say no to a one on one meal with you,” you interjected. “Even with this thing I have with Sana, and she understands that.”

“Just because she understands, doesn’t mean I think it’s right.”

“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t it be?”

Momo put down her fork, smiling tenderly at you before speaking. “You mean a lot to me, obviously, but I can’t do that to Sana.”

“I’m so confused.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Momo scoffed, shaking her head. “Every now and then is fine, like we are now, I know Sana’s fine with that since it is technically part of your job, but there are still boundaries I have to respect.”

“Boundaries? You mean between us?”

“Yes.”

“Momo…” you scrunched your forehead in frustration, trying to understand. “I don’t want you to feel like that, not because of this Sana thing. I’m responsible for all of you.”

“And you’re doing a great job.”

“It doesn’t sound like it,” you disagreed. “You shouldn’t feel like you have to hold anything back around me. That’s kinda the whole point, me being intimate and all with you girls.”

“It’s not holding back,” Momo explained. “It’s just that things are obviously a bit more complicated now, especially since you’ve started doing more than just the physical with the members.”

“That shouldn’t change anything, it’s just some fun on the side.”

“Not everyone sees it that way, not that anyone would admit it,” Momo sighed. “The thing is, it’s totally possible that eventually one of us could… you know.”

“I don’t think I do. Could what?”

“Could maybe end up with you, like properly,” Momo explained. “Let’s just be honest with ourselves, you’ve become such an important part of our lives, some of the members have definitely started thinking about it. You mean a lot more than I think you realize, but we also have to balance the fact that none of the members wants to hurt another one. Everyone is trying to be fair in this weird situation, it’s just kinda hard.”

“And you girls mean the world to me as well, but when you say end up with me, do you mean like, exclusive? Live the rest of our lives together?” you asked, finally starting to understand what Momo was getting at. “I haven’t put too much thought into that, I think because it would make my job a lot harder if I did.”

“Well it’s a good thing we had this conversation then, because maybe you should start thinking about it, before you end up hurting someone,” Momo smiled softly. “Not that I think you’d ever do that on purpose of course.”

“Momo can I ask you something super personal?” you asked cautiously, waiting for her nod of approval before continuing. “Have you thought… could you see us… how do I say this…”

Momo smiled warmly, tilting her head slightly. “You can buy me gifts, you can take me out to dinner, you can…” she paused to look around for anyone listening before continuing, “...you can fuck me silly every day, but I can’t think about being something more with you, not while you’re with Sana. Out of respect for my friend.”

“You’re right, sorry, I shouldn’t be asking that anyway,” you began regretting what you said. “And you’re also right in that I should be more respectful of Sana.”

“I don’t think you’re being disrespectful,” Momo responded after thinking for a second. “I just think you do need to start taking this relationship stuff a bit more seriously. Even if we don’t-” Momo froze mid sentence for a moment before proceeding as if nothing happened. “Regardless of who you end up with, if you even end up with one of us, it’s ultimately a decision you have to make. At that point it has nothing to do with your job.”

Your heart skipped a beat at her words as the possibilities began flooding through your mind. Could you really see yourself spending the rest of your life with one of these girls? There was no doubt that you cared for them, and maybe even loved some of them in that way, but would it even be possible? No, forget possible, would it be morally acceptable for someone with your job to even consider this? It almost felt wrong, but if the feelings were mutual…

“Not right now though,” Momo added. “You’re going to have to take some time by yourself. For now, let’s just enjoy the moment.”

“Alright,” you agreed, emptying your mind for now. “So, how’s the weather?”

“Idiot,” Momo chuckled, pushing her plate forward. “I’m so stuffed, this was way too much cake.”

“I’m going to remind you one last time, it was you who ordered it all.”

“Yeah but you suggested getting the whole menu.”

“Alright fair,” you smiled at her. “I’ll give you that one.”

“That’s right,” Momo laughed, taking the little victory. “Now what?”

“Earlier, you mentioned a couple of things that you’d be fine with,” you began with a slight smirk. “Gifts and dinner are fun and all, but what was that third one again?”

“Yeah?” Momo shifted her demeanor and began putting on her most seductive voice. “Is that what you want?”

“Maybe it is.”

“You want to fuck me silly?”

“I think we… would get caught…” you stuttered, blanking as Momo bent forward to give you a clear view down her shirt, taking your advance far more seriously and quickly than you had expected.

“Then maybe something more subtle?” Momo suggested, sliding her hand against the bulge in your pants. “I could quietly jerk you off, or what if I drop down under this table?”

“Well-”

“Is that what you want? You want me to suck your cock? Right here? Right now?” Momo purred into your ears. “Are you going to fuck my mouth for me? Cum down my throat for me?”

“Momo-”

“Is that why you really called me here?” she continued, not letting you speak, pushing harder on your pants. “I’m getting so fucking wet just thinking about how your cock feels in my mouth. I want that warm cum, I want your warm cum in my mouth.”

Your heart began racing, and all of a sudden the thought of getting caught didn’t matter. Your primal instincts kicked in and you felt ready to knock the spread of cakes in front of you onto the floor to make room for Momo, to bend Momo over the table in front of everyone.

“I can see you thinking about it,” Momo whispered, leaning in closer to your ear and giving your neck a small lick. “You want my wet pussy, I can feel it, you’re so fucking hard right now.”

“I do,” you moaned quietly, reaching your arm around her waist and pressing your hand against the side of her tit. “Tell me what you think we should do. Bathroom? Car? Alley? You decide.”

“I think we should pack the rest of these,” she suggested, completely flipping back to her casual tone, letting go of your cock and looking down at the assortment of cakes. “I don’t think there’s any chance we’re finishing them.”

“What?”

“Yeah, the cakes were amazing, I don’t want to waste them,” Momo said casually. “Did you want to take any of them with you? Maybe take the chocolate one for Sana?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” Momo feigned innocence. “You don’t think Sana would like that?”

“No of course she would,” you stammered, your voice an octave higher than normal. “But what about… what about…”

“It’s getting kinda late, we should really get going,” Momo giggled. “Thanks for this though, I had a great time!”

“I can’t believe you right now.”

“What did I do?”

“I’m going to get you back for this,” you gasped as reality began setting in, your cock still throbbing in your pants. “I swear.”

“We both know you won’t stay mad at me for long,” Momo teased before leaning over and kissing your cheek.

She was right.

—

“Tzu?” you called, opening the door to her room slowly. “Where have you been?”

“Hey,” she replied quietly.

“Is everything-” you stopped speaking and walked into the room up to Tzuyu who was staring out the window while covering herself up in her blankets. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she answered unconvincingly before suddenly turning to face you, her eyes full of vulnerability and fear. “I messed up.”

“What’s wrong? How long have you been here? Have you been alone?” you asked, taking a seat on her bed.

“A few hours, Dahyun and Chaeyoung went to some club or something, I don’t know.”

“How did the contract stuff go? I heard you renewed but I couldn’t find you earlier.”

“It was fine.”

“Tzu,” you spoke gently and cautiously. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

She looked up into your eyes, her pupils filled to the brim with despair. “At first I didn’t. I said no,” she explained.

“Okay,” you replied slowly, thinking about what the next best question would be.

“And then I changed my mind, but it was too late,” she continued, small tears forming in her eyes. “Some of the execs had… other plans for me.”

“Other plans?” your heart began thumping in your chest. “What do you mean by other plans? Did someone… what did they do?”

“There was no other way,” Tzuyu mumbled as a tear spilled down her cheek. “I had to convince the company… I had to do what they wanted.”

“Tzuyu,” you tried your best to remain composed, but inside you were burning up in rage. “Tell me right now, did any of them touch you?”

“No, not exactly…” she answered quietly, wiping her eyes.

“Can you tell me what exactly you did?” you asked, reaching forward and taking her hand in yours. “Take as long as you need, I’m here for you, but I need to know what happened.”

“I took some pictures for them.”

“Pictures?” you could feel your blood boiling, but you had to know exactly what happened. “What kind of pictures?”

“You know what kind,” she began crying. “It was stupid, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Who was there, tell me,” you kept your voice calm. “I’ll go deal with this right now.”

“No don’t, please.”

“What do you mean don’t? I’m not letting this go.”

“It’ll just come back to me,” Tzuyu pleaded, squeezing your hand. “Please, they didn’t force me, I agreed to it.”

“That doesn’t make it okay, they abused the situation and that’s not okay.”

“It’s all done now, they were respectful about it and everything. It’s fine.”

“Tzuyu it’s not fine,” your voice came out louder than intended. “Why would you do this? What the fuck-”

“Because I didn’t think I could keep sharing you like this.”

The room went silent.

“That’s why I said no at first,” she explained. “But then I realized how stupid I was being and changed my mind.”

“But you didn’t have to take those pictures.”

“Well I fucking did,” Tzuyu cried out. “Can you just let it go? I know I fucked up, but it’s done.”

“I…” you stuttered, pain stabbing your chest as you watched Tzuyu cry. “I’m sorry, come here,” you leaned forward and pulled her into your arms, “I’m really sorry, it’s okay,” you rubbed her back softly, holding her as she sobbed softly against your body. “I can still get the pictures deleted though, just give me some time.”

Tzuyu let go of you after a few seconds and looked into your eyes. Hers were bright red, but she wasn’t crying anymore. “And do what? Get yourself fired?” Tzuyu said, her voice soft and quiet. “Just for them to still have the pictures, ready to end my idol career at any point?”

“They’d never release them.”

“I know they wouldn’t,” Tzuyu smiled meekly. “That’s why I’m telling you to just let it go.”

“Even if they released them, we could just ignore them and have a team put out news stating they’re fake,” you suggested. “Not everyone at the company is a sick fuck, you’re not helpless here.”

“Are you really going to make me beg you?”

“Tzu, I can help-”

“How about you help me by getting my mind off it for a bit?” she interjected, tossing her blanket to the side, exposing her bare legs and bright blue panties. “Can you do that for me?”

Conflicted wasn’t even close to explaining how you felt right now. How could she possibly be asking for this right now, and why did you want her more than ever. It was her mascara, messy on her face, that vulnerability that made Tzuyu prettier than she already was, more beautiful than reality. Or maybe it was the thought of those pictures. No, you fucking hated that thought, the feeling that someone-

“How long has it been?” Tzuyu whispered as she spread her legs, derailing your thoughts entirely as she brought her fingers between her legs, toying with herself. “Have you missed this?”

“More than you could ever know,” you moaned, lunging forward and pressing your mouth against hers, succumbing to temptation. Your hands fumbled around her body, pausing at her hips, squeezing her soft skin before your fingers slipped into her panties and began sliding them off, slipping the fabric off her ankle with her help. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Tzuyu breathed into your mouth, her delicate fingers unbuckling your pants. She wasted absolutely no time, and before you knew it she had her slender fingers wrapped around your shaft, pumping you softly to life. Tzuyu kissed you again, her tongue explored your mouth while she grazed her fingertips against your tip. “Slowly, please,” she added with a whisper.

Your fingers replaced hers as you took hold of your cock, feeling around between her legs until your tip was rubbing against her entrance. She was wet, there was no doubt about that, but you could tell as you tried pressing in that she was tight. Too tight. After thoroughly coating your tip with her wetness, you lined yourself up and gave a hard push with your hips when suddenly Tzuyu let out a harsh cry, her eyes filling up again.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, immediately pulling out.

“No,” Tzuyu protested, digging her nails into your ribs. “Give it to me, please.”

There was no way. You’ve fucked Tzuyu plenty of times, but she had never been this tight before, it was impossible. But you had to do something, you couldn’t stop. Your cock would probably explode if you didn’t fuck her right now - you could partially blame Momo for that.

“I will, but first I want to taste you,” you whispered softly before kissing her again. “Is that fine?”

Tzuyu nodded slowly, and with that you slid down her body until your face tucked between her legs. You pressed forward, getting as close as physically possible, and gave Tzuyu’s pussy a lick from bottom to top before clamping your lips against her clit. She exhaled sharply and her fingers latched onto your hair as you sucked on her folds, immersing yourself in the salty tang of her pussy.

Her pussy began leaking onto your chin as you opened your mouth wider, pressing your tongue flat against her entrance, applying pressure in various spots, testing her body, using Tzuyu’s grip on your hair for feedback alongside her soft moans. With your tongue pressing against her pussy, entering her body just slightly, you could feel her body relaxing in your mouth - it was working.

Even though Tzuyu’s pussy tasted amazing to you, intoxicating even, it was clear that your soft strokes were not enough to keep your cock controlled. You needed her body, the pressure was becoming too much for you to handle. You gave her pussy one last kiss before leaning back, a trail of saliva and Tzuyu’s wetness connecting your bodies until you severed the strand.

With both hands at the same time, you spread her legs wide, as wide as they could go. Before your throbbing cock, Tzuyu’s pussy was absolutely glistening, calling out to you as you gripped yourself once more and lined up with her body. In your periphery you could see her beautiful face, biting her lower lip, staring at you, but your eyes were fixated on the sparkle of her folds.

Slowly, with tremendous care, you inched your cock into Tzuyu’s tight little pussy. Your eyes were completely fixated on watching yourself disappear within her body, pushing forward, deeper as her pussy spread itself for your length, Tzuyu’s warmth engulfing your shaft, opening up nicely. She was still tight, but it was more like a snug blanket now, pressing down on your cock beautifully.

“Oh fuck,” Tzuyu moaned, shutting her eyes tight. “Fuck, yes, fuck me.”

Her pussy was overwhelming - so beautiful and pristine. With your cock buried inside her, you fell forward, lunging into Tzuyu’s neck and sucking on her soft skin as you began moving your hips back and forth slowly. It felt so good, it felt fucking amazing, but it wasn’t going to last. Embarrassment, masked only briefly by intense pleasure shooting through your body, began flowing as you couldn’t even last a minute inside Tzuyu’s pussy.

“Fuck!” you cried out as your cock began convulsing inside her body. “Shit!”

It was overwhelming as you clenched your jaw, trying to compose yourself as you emptied your cum into her, waiting for your cock to stop throbbing. Once you finally stopped pulsing, you pressed your lips against Tzuyu’s neck again, desperately kissing every part of her as your half-stiffened cock immediately came back to life as blood rushed back into it. You fumbled around the bed with your hands until you found Tzuyu’s fingers and interlocked yours with hers.

With a quick squeeze of her fingers, you began aggressively thrusting your cock as deep as you could into her cum-filled pussy. She was warm, loosening up nicely for your thickness now, but she still felt as amazing as ever. Your mouth remained glued to her neck as your hips relentlessly fucked her pussy.

Tzuyu’s moans were barely audible over the sharp ringing in your ears as your body began struggling to deal with all the sensation. Your cock was getting completely overwhelmed, but you couldn’t stop. There was no way you could stop, Tzuyu’s pussy was too perfect and you were too insatiable. Her moans, warped into screams, mixed with the sound of her skin slapping against yours.

She began squeezing your fingers hard, painfully hard, but you kept going. You fucked Tzuyu as if your life depended on it as you felt her body pressing up against yours. Her chest shot up, those soft tits pressing against your body through the thin fabric of her shirt, her pussy squeezing harder than ever now against your cock.

Her climax didn’t slow you down at all, even as her pussy clamped down on your cock, you fought through it, making sure to keep up the same pace as your body pushed past physical limits. Your cock almost felt numb, a high that in this moment you believed only Tzuyu’s pussy could give you. Tzuyu kept on cumming - you could feel it. Her body squeezed tightly against your cock as you felt your second orgasm nearing. It really didn’t last much longer the second time, mostly thanks to Tzuyu’s pussy’s rhythmic squeezing, before you felt yourself ready to explode again.

This time, you let go of her fingers and pulled back, pulling your cock out of her. Immediately, a huge rush of your cum spilled out of her pussy as you reached for your shaft with one hand, slipping against the wetness, struggling to get a grip as you stroked yourself, aiming at Tzuyu’s perfect body.

But this time, you were able to look deep into Tzuyu’s eyes. The two of you locked gazes as you gave your cock a final couple of strokes. Tzuyu, without hesitation, reached up with one hand and began fondling your cock right before the first spurt of cum shot out, landing directly on her pussy. Without breaking eye contact, Tzuyu brought her other hand to her pussy and began rubbing circles against herself, spreading your cum across her body as your next few shots landed on the back of her hand.

With one final grunt, you fell forward onto her body, snuggling into her tightly as you gasped desperately for air. Tzuyu began moving her hips slowly, rubbing her pussy against your overly-sensitive cock, massaging it gently with the absurd amount of cum on her. It felt nice and soothing to say the least.

“Thank you,” she moaned softly as her other hand wrapped around your body, rubbing your back.

“Don’t… thank… me…” you gasped, turning your head slightly and kissing Tzuyu’s cheek. “Thank you.”

After a few minutes of silence and warmth as your bodies recovered together, Tzuyu spoke first.

“Sometimes I wish we kept going.”

Before answering, you rolled over off her body so that you were laying on your side next to her. “It was amazing being with you, even if just for such a short time,” you replied softly.

“But we both knew it couldn’t last,” Tzuyu whispered, turning over to her side and facing you, resting the side of her face on her arm. “And that’s okay.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked while reaching forward to push her hair out of her face and behind her ear.

“Because we both know I’m not the one you’re supposed to end up with,” she answered, a tear spilling down the side of her face.

“Tzu,” you paused to wipe her cheek. “You are one of the most amazing and beautiful girls in the entire world, you’re going to find someone who is perfect for you one day.”

“I really hope so.”

“It’s not a matter of hope, just time,” you continued. “You’re young and successful with your whole life ahead of you still, there’s absolutely no rush to jump into something.”

“I know,” she mumbled quietly. “It just felt really nice being with you, even if we were just pretending.”

“And you deserve to be with someone properly, not pretending.”

“But that someone won’t be you.”

Her words lingered in the air between you. It felt like for the second time now Tzuyu was breaking up with you, but in a weird way it didn’t hurt this time - not as much at least. It didn’t feel like either of you was making a mistake, you weren’t leaving something behind; Instead, it felt optimistic, like you were moving forward, separately but still together in a sense.

“I’ll still always love you, even if not in that way,” you said softly, wiping another tear from her face. “I still think the world of you.”

“Thank you,” Tzuyu whispered with a smile. “Spend the night?”

“Absolutely.”

---

A/N:

Really feels like a lifetime ago since my last update to this series. Part one of the final nine chapters before I end it and never write the manager trope again! It has been a lot of fun, I really really really hope that the ending is satisfying, especially for any of my readers who are still around from the beginning when I just started. This fic was my first one, my baby, and here we are years later with the end in view!

I'm going to try uploading a few fics in the upcoming weeks during the holidays, so keep your eyes peeled for that if you want. Not necessarily this series, but I want to try posting a few updates for my other ones as well, and maybe even a few one-shots!

[unholyfudgebiscuits]

Being Human

Derek knows humans are fragile in comparison to wolves. He did have human siblings after all and his mother drilled their vulnerability into him since he was old enough to understand. He knows he has to be gentle around them, knows they are weaker and prone to sickness. Consciously he knows this, but he isn't at all prepared for when Stiles—the only human in the pack—is hurt.

Actually hurt.

Gasping, crying, arms shaking in pain hurt.

He doesn't know what the fuck to do. Because they're alone, trapped, and he can smell the wrongness coming off the human. He can hear his heartbeat fluctuating from weak to sporadic and the sweat and blood and scent of fear blankets the enclosed space so profoundly he thinks he's going to suffocate off the smell.

He siphons away whatever he can but there's still too much. It's barely a bandage over an open artery, like trying to put out a fire with an eyedropper. Even with him pulling away most of the pain the infection has already spread. Every gasping breath and rattling cough has Derek's body twitching in panic.

Human.

The word is a curse, a defect in his world. If Stiles were a wolf he could re-brake and heal the broken rib digging into his lung. The gash on his side would have slowed in it's bleeding if not stopped all together. If he were a wolf there would be no infection or sickness or bloody nose. The bite is a gift.

Derek doesn't know what to do with the frail, weakened human laying with his head on his thigh. He can't even think through the dread and worry and helplessness. Stiles curls in on himself, leans into the hand that is trying to staunch the blood and pull away the pain.

"Not quite how I imagined things would go when I daydreamed about my face down in your lap Sourwolf..." He jokes. Derek almost wants to shake him for it. Stiles is dying and he's joking.

"Don't talk. The pack should be here soon."

"N-Not talk? Have you met me? I'm alone in the dark with Beacon Hill's most eligible grump and you expect me not to make a sex joke?"

"Stiles!" Derek growls and then stops when he hears the awful whistling sound coming from his chest.

"I'm fine. Just a little fever..." Derek wishes it were just a little fever. Wishes he knew the difference between a little fever and this. He doesn't remember his baby sister feeling this warm when his mother said she was sick. He doesn't really remember much of the younger ones... the human ones. Maybe he'd be more helpful if he did...

"Stop it." Stiles chastise. "You keep frowning like that and you're eyebrows will grow together." Derek hates that he does this... Hates that he's the one in pain and he's still trying to lighten Derek's mood. Hates that he's smiling at him through a grimace, that he's looking at him like he's worth something when he knows he isn't.

"I'm okay Der." Stiles says gently. "You k-know you can't actually get rid of me right? I've sorta got a pool going with the pack. How long it'll take till I can get you to say you love me. It's gotta be unironically of course. Lydia's rules." Derek feels his heartbeat tick up at that and Stiles smiles. "I say this year, Scott gave you three. But I know I'm your favorite so it shouldn't be hard."

"Stop moving." He begs when Stiles turns onto his back to look up at him.

"Better view."

"Stiles!" Stubborn! Humans were stubborn. Weak and frail and as stubborn as they came.

"You're beautiful." Stiles murmurs and Derek feels his breath catch in his throat. "Maybe that's wrong to say to a guy huh? But like, I always thought it. Y-Your eyes. I like looking at them. Even when you go all grumpy and broody and flash red at me, they're still beautiful."

Derek feels Stiles' body shake with another jolt of pain and maybe, he's the one crying now. "You gotta promise me something Der, okay? P-Please. You gotta take care of my dad."

"Don't-"

"Would you just listen? I love Scott, I trust him with my life. He's my brother when it comes down to it but he's pretty freaking useless when he's got a new girlfriend with him and dad's going to be bad for a while. He'll drink. A lot... or worse he'll just jump head first into any job they throw at him. P-Please just watch over him for me?." Derek feels himself nodding and Stiles' pained smile widens.

"You know you've always been my alpha right?" Derek startles at that. "Like I said, I love Scott and I love the pack. I'd do anything for any one of you but... since the beginning. Since the start, you've always been my alpha."

"Stiles-"

"Just take care of dad. Scott will be okay, Lydia might need you more than she lets on. And Isaac says he doesn't want anything to do with you but it's not true. I-It's not. If anything he wants you to be proud of him. So call him okay? He'd be on the next flight home, he'd be back here at your side the second he sees your name light up. He kept the same number. Explain it to him. Tell him why you sent him away. N-Not for you, for him. He thinks you hate him, don't let him think it anymore."

Derek can't understand. Can't begin to make sense of this human. This small, 145 pound, eighteen year old looking up at him with all the tranquility and calmness of a condemned man. He's no longer scared. Fear has been replaced with a sense of serenity and its worse! Far worse than the terror. Derek presses harder onto the bleeding wound, chokes on the sob that wants to wrench it's way out of his throat when he hears it... The low howl a mile off.

He covers Stiles' ears and howls back, feeling relief and hope and looking at those confused brown eyes that haven't stopped watching him since they ended up in this hell hole.

"D-Der?"

"I love you." He says, because he does. Because he's never not cared for this ridiculous human being. He had been his headache, his friend, his anchor... The one who has protected him, saved him, given him a family when he never thought he deserved it. The resilient, caring little human that looked at him like he meant something. Like he was worthy of meaning something.

Resilient and stubborn and caring and selfless and fragile... And Derek wishes he were half the human Stiles is.

[soluversworld]

Steam, off - REDACTED X G.N Reader (SMUT)

Genre: smut

Summary: — After a small argument where Redacted refuses to get mad at you, frustration builds between you both. Despite your attempts to stay distant, their gentle persistence and need for closeness slowly wear you down.

THEN YOU SMASH!!

( Reader is a g.n!)

EXTRA: This was a request, from discord, They're a good friend!!

Content/Trigger warnings

Explicit Sexual Content (NSFW)

Dom/Sub Dynamics (Teasing, control, and edging)

Praise Kink

Strong Emotional Intimacy

Light Roughness (Biting, marking, possessive touch)

Overstimulation

Did not proof read/Rushed.

Your lips press into a thin line. Again.

Again, [REDACTED] just takes it. Doesn’t argue, doesn’t fight back—just ducks their head, lets their shoulders sag, and mutters, "M’ sorry."

And fuck, that makes your teeth grind.

“Stop that,” you snap before you can stop yourself.

They blink, startled. “Stop… what?”

You gesture—at them, at their whole goddamn everything. “This. The—The whole apologizing thing. I’m mad at you, [YOU]. You can be mad back. You can fight me instead of just taking it like—like—”

“Like I deserve it?”

Your breath snags.

Soft. Quiet. Like they already know what you’re gonna say. Like they agree.

And that—that makes you want to throw something.

“No! No!” You grab their wrist—not to hurt, just to hold. To make them listen. “You don’t deserve it, and that’s the fucking problem! I can’t even be mad at you properly because you never—You never fight back! You never defend yourself! You just let me be angry, let me lash out, let me blame you, and then you say ‘m’ sorry’ like—like it’s all your fault!"

Their brows furrow, lips parting—like they want to argue. But they don’t.

And that’s when it really hits you.

They’re not ignoring you.

They just… don’t think they should fight back.

Your grip on their wrist loosens, fingers sliding down until they hook around theirs. “You can get mad at me,” you murmur. “You can tell me I’m wrong, tell me I’m being unfair. I want to fight with you if it means we fix things. But I can’t—” You swallow hard. "I can't keep being the only one who raises my voice while you just—just take it and blame yourself."

A pause.

[REDACTED] stares at you—eyes wide, raw, something fragile flickering beneath the surface. Their mouth opens—then closes—then, finally, they speak.

“…I don’t wanna fight you,” they murmur. “I just—” They exhale sharply, shaking their head. “I don’t want to fight with you.."

And fuck—fuck—that’s what breaks you.

"You're already hurting me, dumbass," you whisper, voice cracking, fingers curling tighter around theirs. "Not because of a fight—because I feel like I’m hitting a fucking ghost whenever I argue with you." You take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. "I want the real you. All of you. Even the parts that get mad at me. Even the parts that fight back."

Something shifts in their expression. Something wounded.

"…The real me, huh?" Their voice is rough, like they’re chewing on the words. "And what if the real me ain't… what y’want?"

You don’t hesitate.

"I want you," you say, pressing their hand to your chest, right over your racing heart. "Only you. The real you." Your voice drops to a whisper, raw and desperate. "I love you, [REDACTED]."

Their breath hitches. Their fingers tremble against yours. And for the first time, you see it—the crack in their armor, the fear behind their eyes.

Well, You're still mad/j

You huff, sinking deeper into the couch, arms crossed tight as Attack on Giant blares from the screen. You’re not even watching—just pretending to, staring blankly at the fights while your thoughts rage louder than the explosions.

You hate this. You hate how you’re still mad, how he just lets you be, how he looks so fucking sad sitting across from you like a kicked puppy.

[REDACTED] isn’t saying anything. Just… sitting there. Shoulders slightly hunched, hands clasped together like he’s holding himself still. Not pushing, not begging—just waiting.

Like he always fucking does.

Like he always has.

It’s suffocating.

Minutes pass. Maybe an hour. You don’t even know anymore. The silence isn’t cold, not really—but it stretches long enough to wrap around your ribs, squeeze tight, ache.

And yet, he doesn’t complain.

Doesn’t demand.

Doesn’t even shift closer.

He just watches you, quiet and patient, like he’d wait forever if that’s what it took for you to stop being mad.

Like he’d wait another decade if it meant you’d finally reach for him again.

And fuck, that realization makes your throat burn.

Because it’s sad. It’s fucking sad at this point.

You grip the blanket tighter around yourself, teeth clenched. You don’t want to be mad anymore. You don’t want to give him the silent treatment. You don’t want him to just sit there, drowning in his own regret, waiting for a love he already fucking has.

You don’t want him to think you’re really pushing him away.

So you shift. Just barely. Uncurl your legs.

It’s subtle, but he notices instantly.

His shoulders tense—not in fear, but in hope.

Still, he doesn’t push.

He just waits.

You take a breath, exhaling slow, forcing yourself to relax.

And then—without looking at him—you grab his hand.

He freezes.

And when you finally glance at him—just a quick, fleeting look—you swear he’s shaking.

You’re stacking the dishes when two strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back against a firm, familiar chest. His warmth seeps into your skin, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder as he sighs—a low, content sound that makes your stomach flip.

"You really…" he murmurs, voice a lazy drawl, "...are a softie."

Your hands still. The dish towel crinkles in your grip.

You huff. "Hmph."

You act annoyed. You act like you hate it. Like this whole affection thing is just too much, too clingy, too Redacted.

But your hands betray you.

Because instead of pushing him off, you reach up—fingers threading through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

And god, he melts.

His breath hitches, grip tightening as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. You feel him smile against your skin, feel the way he relaxes, like this—you—is all he’s ever needed.

"...'S not fair," he mutters, muffled against you.

You arch a brow. "What’s not fair?"

"You act all mean," he murmurs, voice slow and sleepy, "'n' then you do this..."

You roll your eyes, still scratching lightly at his scalp. "I dunno what you’re talking about."

You cross your arms, leaning against the counter, glaring at him. "You’re not getting near me."

He stops mid-step, blinking at you like a confused puppy.

A pause. Then, hesitantly—softly—"…Still mad at me, huh?"

You huff, looking away. It’s stupid, honestly. The argument wasn’t even that big, just one of those things that built up over time—him never defending himself, never even trying to fight back, just letting you steamroll him with nothing in return but sad eyes and quiet apologies. It makes you feel awful. Like you’re the bad guy every single time.

"At least ask for something," you mutter, not looking at him. "I made you sad. You always just take it. If you can’t get mad at me, at least say that it hurts instead of going silent."

You feel him move before you see him.

Warmth presses against the side of your neck—a slow, lingering kiss right below your jaw. His breath is warm, his lips impossibly soft, and your heart does a fucking backflip.

Your fingers twitch at your sides. Your whole body stiffens.

"You always do this," you grumble, cheeks heating up.

A small chuckle against your skin. "What?"

He laughs, low and fond, arms winding around your waist again. "S’ not cheatin’, Y/n. Just know what works on ya."

You scoff, feeling your resolve start to crumble. Your body still buzzes from the way his lips lingered against your skin, from the warmth pressing up against your back.

Then, in that same casual, lazy drawl, he asks—

"Wanna make up?"

…Oh.

Your heart stops.

You blink, heat creeping up your neck. "…Eh?"

He leans down, lips barely brushing the shell of your ear. "Y’heard me."

And fuck, your whole body burns. The way he says it—so blunt, so confident, so fucking casual—has your brain short-circuiting. Your fingers curl into fists, gripping at nothing, trying so hard to play it cool despite the way your pulse is pounding.

You swallow thickly. Cross your arms tighter. Try to keep your face neutral.

"…Sure," you say.

Expression blank.

Voice flat.

Trying desperately to ignore the way your ears are on fire.

He grins. He knows. He sees through you.

And before you can blink, you’re on the bed.

Pinned.

His lips crush against yours, his hands sliding up your sides, warm, slow, possessive. You gasp into his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue teasing at yours, dragging you into something slow and dizzying and hot.

The kiss is rough, almost desperate—like he’s trying to prove something, trying to make you feel what they won’t say out loud. Their hands grip your waist as they push you back, guiding you until your legs hit the bed.

Then they shove you down.

Not forcefully, not like they’re trying to overpower you—just firm, controlled, the way they always are. Like they’re claiming you, like they’re saying you’re mine without needing to use the words.

Their weight follows, pressing you into the mattress, their breath warm against your lips as they hover just above you. They’re looking at you—God, they’re watching you—like they’re searching for something in your eyes, something they’re too much of a coward to ask for outright.

“You still mad at me, You?” they murmur, voice low, teasing—but there’s a flicker of something real underneath it.

You scoff, tilting your head away, acting like you don’t feel the way your body reacts to them. Damn them. “Maybe.”

They chuckle—soft, breathy—then press their lips to the curve of your jaw, trailing lower, nipping at the sensitive skin of your throat until you gasp.

“Y’sure?” Their voice is thick with amusement, but their hands say otherwise. They’re firm where they grip your hips, grounding you, holding you close—like they’re afraid you’ll slip through their fingers.

You’re still trying to be stubborn, still fighting the way your heart pounds when their lips graze your collarbone. “If you think I’m just gonna forgive you—”

“I know.”

The words are quiet, barely more than a whisper. And when they finally look at you, their eyes are dark—heated—but there’s something else there too. Something softer, something unspoken.

Then they kiss you.

And it’s deep this time—slow, lingering, the kind of kiss that steals the breath from your lungs, that melts into you like a promise. Their hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin, holding you like you’re precious.

And that’s what finally breaks you.

You grab at them—pulling them closer, wrapping your arms around their neck, threading your fingers through their hair. You’re kissing them back just as desperately, pouring every ounce of your frustration, your longing, your love into it.

You don’t even know when they settle fully between your legs, don’t even register the way their hips press against yours until they groan against your lips, grinding into you.

“Fuck,” they rasp, burying their face against your neck. “Y’don’t—You have no idea what y’do to me, You…”

Your breath stutters, and for a moment, neither of you speak. The argument still lingers in the air between you, unspoken and unresolved, but this—this—is how you make up. Not with words.

Their breath is warm, teasing against your skin before they dip lower—trailing kisses down your neck, your collarbone, lower still until their lips hover just above your chest.

Then—fuck.

They bite.

A sharp little nip against your nipple before their tongue soothes over the sting, slow and deliberate, sending a jolt straight down your spine. You gasp, arching into them, but they don’t stop—not yet. They flick their tongue over the sensitive bud, watching your reactions, listening to every little sound you make, before latching on properly, sucking just hard enough to make your head spin.

“Sensitive, huh?” Their voice is thick with amusement, teasing but hungry. One of their hands drags down your stomach, fingers ghosting over the waistband of your clothes, slipping just beneath—so close, so fucking close, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

You squirm beneath them, frustration bubbling up, but they only smirk against your skin. Their other hand comes up to your neglected nipple, rolling it between their fingers, pinching just enough to make you whimper.

“Mm. Y’really gonna stay mad at me?” Their voice is low, husky, vibrating through you as they switch sides, lavishing the same attention to your other nipple, sucking and teasing, leaving you breathless.

Your hands fly to their hair, gripping tight—like you can force them to stop teasing. “Shut up,” you manage, but it’s weak, a little desperate, and they love it.

They chuckle, the sound rumbling against your skin.

“Guess I’ll have t’fuck the anger outta you, then.”

And with that, their hand finally slips lower.

Their fingers trace slow, feather-light circles over your clothed heat, barely pressing down, just teasing. It’s infuriating—your body is aching, burning, needing more, but they won’t give it to you. Not yet.

“Still mad at me, huh?” Their voice is mocking, low and amused, but there’s something else beneath it—something dark, something possessive. Their fingers dip lower, almost slipping under the fabric, but then they pull back, just enough to leave you frustrated.

You whine—actually whine—and the sound makes them smirk.

“Aw, poor thing.” Their lips graze your ear, warm and teasing. “Want somethin’?”

You try to grind against their hand, desperate for anything, but they pin you down, using their weight to keep you still. Their fingers barely press against you, just enough to make you twitch, make you gasp, make you ache for more.

“Y’gotta tell me, baby.” Their voice is thick with amusement, but their breath is ragged against your skin. They’re enjoying this just as much as you are—dragging it out, making you want it, making you need it.

You grit your teeth, refusing to beg. Refusing.

But when they pull away entirely, hands leaving you completely, you snap.

“Fuck—just touch me already!”

Their smirk widens, and fuck, they love hearing you like this—frustrated, desperate, barely holding on.

“That’s more like it.”

And then—finally, finally—their fingers slip beneath the fabric, sliding against your heat, pressing deep, stretching you open, giving you exactly what you need.

Their fingers curl just right, pressing deep, slow, deliberate—just enough to make you feel it, but never enough to satisfy. It’s torture, this agonizing pace, this teasing, feather-light touch that only fuels the fire burning inside you. Your breath is ragged, your body trembling, every muscle tensed as you claw at the sheets beneath you.

"Redacted—!" Your voice is caught between a moan and a plea, frustration boiling over as they refuse to give you what you really want.

They chuckle—low, deep, full of amusement as they press an open-mouthed kiss to your throat, their lips trailing slow, lazy heat down your skin. "Mmm... somethin' wrong, Angel?" Their fingers withdraw almost completely before sliding back in, shallow and teasing. "Y'sound a lil' worked up."

You whimper—a sound you wouldn’t have let anyone else hear, but with them? They pull it from you so easily. Your hands fly to their wrist, gripping tight, trying to force them to move faster, deeper, more, but they don’t budge.

"Please," you breathe, half-growling, half-desperate. "Stop—teasing."

They click their tongue, shaking their head as if you’re being so unreasonable. "Steam’s gotta be let off first, Angel," they murmur, their voice a smooth, teasing drawl. "Ain't that right?"

You let out a frustrated whine, hips jerking as you try to meet their touch, but they tut softly, keeping you pinned, keeping control.

"Y'know I’ll never deny you, Angel…" Their lips brush against your ear, voice dark and sweet, and then—finally, finally—they snap.

Their fingers plunge deep, their pace turning from lazy and teasing to devastating, working you open without a shred of mercy. The pleasure slams into you, white-hot and overwhelming, and you cry out, head falling back as the heat coils tight in your core.

Their free hand grips your chin, tilting your face toward them, forcing you to meet their gaze—eyes dark, intense, locked onto yours like they own you.

"That’s it," they murmur, voice thick with hunger. "Let me hear you, Angel."

Their grip tightens—steady, unrelenting—keeping you right on the edge without letting you fall. Your body trembles beneath them, muscles twitching, every nerve alight with unbearable heat. It’s too much—too good—but they won’t let you go.

You choke out their name between ragged breaths, your hands clutching at their arms, their shoulders, anything to ground yourself, to plead for mercy. But all they do is smirk, dragging their fingers slowly out, only to press them back in at an achingly controlled pace.

"Aww, listen to you," they murmur, voice dripping with dark amusement. "So needy, Angel…" They lean in, lips brushing your ear as their free hand smooths over your stomach, your chest—trailing slow, teasing circles over your heated skin. "You sound so pretty when you beg, y’know that?"

A frustrated whimper escapes you, a shiver wracking your body as you fight against their hold, desperate to move, to chase what they keep just out of reach.

"P-please," you gasp, back arching, toes curling. "Please, I—I need—"

They hush you, their fingers plunging deeper, curling just right, sending an electric shock of pleasure straight to your core.

"Shhh, Angel… I know." Their voice is soft, almost mocking in its sweetness. "But y’gotta hold on for me, yeah? Y’can do that, right?"

You shake your head, gasping, voice breaking. "No! I—I can’t—"

They chuckle, their grip tightening, keeping you still as your body shudders beneath them.

"Sure y’can," they murmur, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips, voice thick with affection. "Y’just don’t know it yet."

Before you could get another word out, they pushed in.

A sharp gasp tore from your throat, your fingers clawing at their back, nails digging into heated skin as your body arched against them. Your head tipped back, a broken, helpless sound spilling from your lips, pleasure crashing through you in waves.

"Fuck—"

They groaned against your neck, their breath hot and ragged, their own body trembling as they sank into you, inch by inch. Your arms wrapped around them on instinct, pulling them impossibly closer, your chest pressed flush against theirs, your pulse pounding in your ears.

"Shit… Angel—" Their voice was low, strained, barely holding on, but the way they said your name—like they were praying—sent a shiver down your spine. They needed this just as much as you did.

You barely had time to breathe before they bit down—hard—right against the curve of your neck.

A high-pitched cry escaped you, your body jerking in response, heat coiling in your gut, winding tighter—too much, too fast. The sting of their teeth melted into a dull, throbbing pleasure, and when their tongue soothed over the mark, you whimpered, shivering as they left behind a deep, dark hickey.

Their hands slid down your sides, slow, possessive, fingers pressing into your skin as they pulled back just enough to meet your eyes—half-lidded, desperate, barely restrained.

"Gonna keep you right here," they murmured, voice thick with need. Their hips rolled forward, their hold tightening. "Gonna make sure you feel me—"

Another thrust. Deeper. More intense.

Your vision blurred, your breath catching, body twitching as pleasure surged through you like fire.

"Fuck— please—" You couldn’t even finish the sentence, couldn’t even think—just clutching at them, holding on as they fucked you through the dizzying, overwhelming sensation, keeping you right on the brink of explosion.

And then—

They kissed you.

Slow. Deep. Possessive.

And you fucking broke.

Your whole body shattered beneath them.

A choked, shuddering gasp tore from your throat as the pleasure hit—blinding, overwhelming, knocking every last thought from your head. Your legs clenched around their waist, hands grasping at their shoulders, their hair—anything you could hold onto as wave after wave of white-hot bliss crashed through you.

They swallowed your cries, their lips moving against yours in a messy, desperate kiss, like they were trying to devour every sound you made, feel every tremor in your body as you unraveled beneath them. Their name spilled from your lips like a prayer, half-whimpered, half-moan, and fuck—

They loved it.

"That's it," they groaned, voice rough, breath hitching against your mouth. Their grip on your hips tightened, strong fingers digging into your skin as they thrust into you, chasing their own release, dragging you through the aftershocks. "God, Angel—feel so fucking good—"

Your mind was spinning, body still trembling in their arms, overstimulated and aching in the best way. But you still wanted more.

"More," you gasped, voice barely above a breath, hands tightening in their hair, pulling them closer. "Please—"

They swore under their breath, something low and guttural, before burying their face in the crook of your neck, hips snapping forward with a deep, needy groan.

"Fuck—fuck—"

And then—

They came, shuddering against you, their whole body tensing as they spilled inside, breath hitching, hips stuttering in the aftermath. A low, wrecked sound left their lips, barely held back, and you swore it was the sexiest thing you'd ever heard.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Just breathing. Holding each other. Feeling the warmth between you, the way their body pressed against yours, how they fit against you so perfectly.

Then—

A slow, satisfied exhale, their lips ghosting over your temple before they nuzzled into your hair.

"S’good," they murmured, voice thick, lazy. "Too good, Angel… y’ damn near killed me."

You huffed out a breathless laugh, still reeling, but you felt the way their arms tightened around you—how they refused to let you go, even as exhaustion started to set in.

Their hips didn’t still for long.

Even as you were still trying to catch your breath, still reeling from the way they had just ruined you, they were already moving again—slow, teasing rolls of their hips against yours, letting you feel just how much they still wanted you.

"Tsk, look at you, Angel," they murmured against your ear, voice thick with amusement and something darker beneath it. Their lips brushed your jaw, your cheek, your neck—each kiss deliberate, possessive—before they nipped at the sensitive skin, making you gasp. "Still twitchin’ for me. So sensitive…"

Your breath hitched as they ground against you again—slow and lazy but purposeful, their length dragging through the mess between your thighs, rubbing against every oversensitive spot that had you whimpering into their shoulder.

"R-Redacted…" you gasped, fingers clutching at their back, nails digging in, desperate to ground yourself against the pleasure. "Too much… I—I just—"

They shushed you, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple, their voice a low, affectionate drawl. "I know, Angel. S’alright… I got you."

But they didn’t stop.

Their hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips, holding you firm as they rocked into you, slow and deep—not enough to overwhelm, not yet, but enough to make you feel them, to keep you on edge.

"Gotta make up for makin’ you mad, don’t I?" they murmured, teeth grazing your ear, sending a full-body shudder down your spine. "Gotta show my Angel how much I love ‘em…"

Their fingers found your jaw, tilting your face toward them, their lips hovering just over yours—so close, so teasing.

"You still mad at me, Angel?"

You wanted to glare at them. Really, you did. But the way they were touching you, the way they were looking at you, their breath warm against your lips—fuck, you couldn’t think straight.

You swallowed hard, trying to muster even the smallest amount of defiance. "M-Maybe…"

A slow, knowing smirk curled at their lips.

"Maybe?" they echoed, tilting their head. "Guess I’ll have to keep goin’ ‘til you forgive me, then…"

And then—

They thrust.

Deep. Slow. Purposeful.

And you—

You cried out.

They shushed you through the cry, murmuring low and soothing against your lips, but their movements didn’t falter. If anything, their grip on your hips tightened, keeping you right where they wanted you as they rolled into you again—deep, slow, letting you feel every inch of them as they stretched you open all over again.

"There we go," they murmured, dragging their lips down your throat, feeling the way your pulse raced beneath their mouth. "Takin’ me so good, Angel. Y’always do…"

Your breath hitched, legs twitching where they were wrapped around their waist, toes curling with every slow, devastating movement. "R-Redacted—"

"Shh, I know…" Their voice was all honey and heat, melting into you. "I know, Angel. I got you…"

But they didn’t stop teasing.

Their hips moved at a pace that was infuriatingly slow, drawing out every sensation, forcing you to feel it—like they wanted to savor you, like they wanted to pull every last sound from your lips before they finally let you have what you wanted.

And you were—

You were so frustrated. So worked up and sensitive that it was too much and not enough all at once. You needed more, you needed faster, you needed—

"Damn it, Redacted, please—!"

They chuckled, low and warm against your skin, their lips curling against your shoulder. "Please what, Angel? Gotta be specific…"

Your face burned. They knew exactly what you wanted, they just wanted to hear you say it—to make you beg for it.

"P-Please, just—" You clenched around them, nails digging into their back, eyes squeezing shut as another slow thrust sent fire up your spine. "Just stop teasing and—"

"And what, Angel?" Their voice was syrupy sweet, mocking in the softest, most affectionate way. "Say it for me…"

Your pride was screaming at you to fight back, to bite back something smart, to refuse to give them the satisfaction—

But then they rolled their hips, slow and deep, and any resistance you had left shattered.

"J-Just fuck me already—!"

They groaned, deep and pleased, like that was exactly what they were waiting for.

"That’s my Angel…"

And then—

Then they snapped their hips forward.

Hard. Fast. Deep.

Their breath hitched, and then they growled—low, deep, vibrating through their chest and into you.

"More, huh?" Their fingers tightened on your hips, their weight pressing you into the mattress as they pinned you down completely. "Y'got no idea what you're askin' for, Angel…"

But they gave it to you.

They slammed into you, hard enough to send shockwaves through your body, hard enough to knock every breath from your lungs. The rhythm was relentless now—fast, deep, dragging you to the edge so quickly your head spun. Your body jolted with every thrust, fingers curling into the sheets, clawing at their back, at their shoulders, at anything you could hold onto—

"F-Fuck—!" You barely had breath to speak, barely had thoughts left beyond the heat, the overwhelming pleasure, the way they were stretching you, filling you, ruining you—

They buried their face against your neck, breath hot and ragged, groaning with every desperate snap of their hips. "S'good, Angel. So perfect—"

Their lips ghosted against your pulse, hot and open-mouthed, before sinking their teeth into your skin—hard.

You shattered.

Pleasure ripped through you, blinding, consuming, your body arching into them as you came with a cry, trembling beneath them as your vision whited out.

And they didn’t stop.

"C’mon, Angel—give me another," they rasped, voice thick with praise, with possession, with love. "Bet you can, can't you? Bet you can take one more for me—"

You shuddered, body trembling beneath them as waves of pleasure crashed through you, but they weren’t done—not yet.

"Again, Angel," they murmured against your skin, voice thick, almost pleading now. "Let me feel you—let me hear you."

You bit your lip, trying to hold it in, trying to keep your sounds from spilling out—

But then they thrust one last time, deep, grinding against you as they spilled inside, hot and thick, sending you spiraling into another sharp, helpless climax.

And that was it. That was the moment you broke.

A choked sob escaped your lips, your whole body tightening around them as pleasure wrecked you, as their name tore from your throat in a breathless, trembling moan—

"Fuck— that’s it, that’s it," they groaned, arms locking around you, holding you close as they rode out the last pulses of pleasure, as they filled you to the brim.

It was overwhelming—too much, too deep, too intimate.

And still, they didn’t pull away.

Instead, they held you, breath hot against your neck, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to your damp skin. Their hands traced soothing circles over your hips, grounding you, keeping you close, like they couldn’t let go.

"You okay, Angel?" their voice was softer now, gentle, laced with something raw, something vulnerable.

You barely had the strength to nod, still shaking in their arms, still feeling them inside you, still coming down from that high.

They pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, their fingers tightening around yours as they whispered, "S’good. So good. Mine."

And fuck.

Your heart ached.

They let out a soft chuckle, still breathless, still soaked in heat and the remnants of pleasure. Their arms curled around you, pulling you against their chest, their heartbeat pounding against your ear.

"Man," they murmured, voice thick with exhaustion and something softer, sweeter. "That’s one way to let off steam."

You scoffed weakly, burying your face against their skin, trying to fight the warmth spreading through your chest.

"Shut up," you mumbled.

They just smirked, pressing a lazy, lingering kiss to your forehead. "Never."

The room was quiet except for the sound of your breathing, the gentle hum of their fingers tracing up and down your back, soothing, steady—like they never wanted to let you go.

"Y’know," they muttered after a moment, "if I pissed you off on purpose, d’you think—"

You pinched their side before they could finish.

They yelped—then laughed, burying their face in your hair, still cradling you like you were something precious. Like they couldn’t believe they got to have you like this.

"Love you," they whispered against your temple, breath warm, tender.

And even though you were still pretending to be mad, still trying to act like you weren’t melting at their touch—

You whispered it back.

[nanamis-angel]

𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝! 𝐏𝐭.𝟐 ♡︎

♡︎ ৹ Girl dad!Nanami who practically passes out when he finds out you're pregnant with twin girls.

♡︎ ৹ He loves being a dad, especially to his little girl. But to go from one to three is a huge change and it's two more girls!! But nevertheless, he's over the moon.

♡︎ ৹ Girl dad!Nanami who can't wait to tell your daughter about how she's going to be a big sister.

♡︎ ৹ The two of you sit her down and explain to her that she's going to have two new little sisters (in the easiest way you can explain babies to a three-year-old, that is). She jumps up and down, squealing about just how happy she is.

♡︎ ৹ Girl dad!Nanami who spends extra time with your daughter so that you can rest. Being pregnant with twins isn't easy.

♡︎ ৹ He takes her to the park, he sits and plays with her, he puts her down for her naps and for bedtime. Anytime you're too exhausted to give her your full attention, he's right there and ready to help. Even after she's asleep, he always makes sure you're taken care of.

♡︎ ৹ Girl dad!Nanami who can barely rest when you go into labor.

♡︎ ৹ He's going to have two more daughters. He's going to have three kids. His wife is in labor--with twins no less! So, maybe he panics a little but he tries to keep calm and make sure you get the help you need.

♡︎ ৹ Girl dad!Nanami who cries when he hears the individual cries of both of your newborn baby girls.

♡︎ ৹ He doesn't cry often, but boy do the tears start falling. He loves his family so much and now that there are two additions to your little family, there are two more people to love. This is the dream he's always wanted. His daughters are safe and healthy, you're safe and healthy. What more could he ask for?

♡︎ ৹ Girl dad!Nanami who does the so-called "Hot dad walk" out of the hospital, this time carrying two car seats.

♡︎ ৹ He hears you giggling and turns around to see you filming him. He assumes this must be another one of those "tiktok trends" you try to get him to do all the time. But in all realness, seeing him walk out of there with the car seats makes you want to have another kid with him already.

♡︎ ৹ Girl dad!Nanami who softly instructs his oldest daughter to be gentle while holding her little sisters.

♡︎ ৹ "Be gentle with them, sweetheart... They're very small and fragile." He can't help but smile big as he sees his daughter's face light up with joy. Her little sisters and her best friends are finally here. Even if she has to wait a while before she can play with them.

♡︎ ৹ And finally, Girl dad!Nanami, who regardless of the sleepless nights, the screaming, the crying, and all the other drama that children bring, just truly loves his life and his family.

♡︎ ৹ It was his dream to settle down and start a family. Now he has a beautiful, kind wife and three wonderful, healthy daughters. What more could he ask for? :)

a/n: had to do more because its girl dad nanami, obviously. <3 (hearts divider by @/s-h-o-w-y) tag: @o-ikawaii 🩷

[itelya]

synopsis: the difference in size between your hand and your bf/husband's hand.

character [separate]: Nanami Kento x reader, Gojo Satoru x reader, Suguru Geto x reader, Toji Fushiguro x reader, Sukuna Ryomen x reader, Choso Kamo x reader.

warning: cute, adorable, humor and love love loveeee

words: 2780.

Kento N.

The kitchen is silent, animated only by the rattle of utensils and the sweet scent of vanilla floating in the air. Nanami is focused, his large, precise hands kneading the dough with controlled fluidity.

For your part, you try to keep up with him, but one thing distracts you: the glaring difference between your hands.

You've always known this, of course. Nanami is a tall, firm man, and his hands reflect his. They're wide, with long, strong, and thick fingers. Only you know how effective they are in certain situations.

Besides, your hands seem almost fragile. You observe the contrast: his palm almost entirely covering yours, the difference in width between your fingers, the way your wedding band looks delicate where his feels massive on his hand.

Suddenly, he notices your gaze fixed on your hands and raises an eyebrow. "What is it?" he asks calmly. His gaze is soft on you. You shake your head, an amused smile playing on your lips. "Nothing, it's just... I feel like I have doll hands compared to yours."

Nanami looks down at your clasped hands on the counter. He studies them for a moment, then gently places his palm against yours. As expected, his own almost entirely encompasses it. He lightly presses his fingers against yours, curiously testing the difference.

"It's true, it's quite striking," he admits. He gently turns your hand, examining a precious object. "They're small... but agile."

You smile, rolling your eyes. "You make me feel tiny." He runs his thumb over your ring, an unconscious gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers, though larger and rougher, are surprisingly soft as they brush against your skin.

"Maybe I like the difference," he says finally. "It reminds me to always look out for you."

You sigh, crossing your arms. "You know, I'm not as fragile as you think."

A small smile tugs at his lips as he takes your hand and places it against his once more. He gently intertwines your fingers, the size difference even more pronounced.

"I never said you were fragile," he murmurs. "I just like knowing my hand is there to wrap around yours."

He finally lets go of your hand to return to the dough, but the contact remains imprinted on your skin. Even without his fingers wrapped around yours, the sensation remains.

You look at your hands side by side again, fascinated by the difference. And even though Nanami doesn't say it directly, you understand that for him, this difference is not insignificant.

Gojo S.

You sit next to Gojo on the couch, a little tired after a busy day, your legs tucked under you, trying to find a comfortable position. But before you can truly relax, you feel a gentle but firm pressure on your hand.

Surprised, you turn your head to see Gojo looking at you with a playful smile. He just had his hand extended, taking yours. "Hey! Let go of my hand."

He looks at you with a mockingly innocent expression, but you immediately notice the amusement in his sky-blue eyes. "Are you serious? Your hands are so small, I could lose them in mine. It's cute."

You frown, a little embarrassed by the remark, but he continues to look at you with a mischievous smile. You try to pull your hand away, but he keeps it firmly intertwined in his. "Gojo, seriously?..."

He leans slightly towards you, bringing your hands together to show you the difference. Your hand seems to almost disappear into his, and you find yourself, once again, facing this obvious reality.

"See? It's crazy how tiny your fingers are next to mine. It almost makes me feel sorry for you, babe."

You gently push him away, a little exasperated, but despite your attitude, you feel a slight shiver run down your arm with each movement of his fingers.

"I'm not a kid, Gojo."

"I know, I know, I'm joking, babe... But you have to admit, it's cute. And besides, that means I can protect you, right? I can hide you behind me if you ever get scared."

He squeezes your hand a little tighter, not forcing you, but enough to make you feel the warmth of his palm. You look up at him, a hint of red on your cheeks, but this time, you don't push him away. He leans a little closer to you, his voice becoming softer.

"I like holding your hand... I really do. It feels good."

Your heart skips a beat at his words. He's speaking simply to you, and you sense the sincerity in his words.

"It's true... It feels good."

"Yeah? That's what I thought. So I'll hold your hand, okay? No running away this time."

You look up at him, almost surprised by the softness beneath his playful demeanor. He squeezes your hand a little tighter, and this time, you let him, feeling a little calmer and more protected by his side. "You're insufferable."

He bursts out laughing, but you can see in his eyes that he's never been more serious. He really enjoys this silent connection between you, this simple act of holding your hand. And, oddly enough, you enjoy it too.

"I know, I know... But admit it, you like having a big hand to hold you, don't you?"

You look at him silently for a few seconds, and before answering, you gently tighten your grip. "Yes... maybe."

Geto S.

The first time you really noticed the difference in size between your hand and Geto's was one day when you were walking quietly together. It was a bit chilly, and without even thinking, you slipped your hand into his.

Immediately, his long, warm fingers closed their grip on yours, and that's when it hit you: your hand felt tiny in his.

Geto has slender but strong hands. His fingers are long and elegant, and when he squeezes your hand, he does so with obvious tenderness, as if he were holding something precious.

“Hmm… your hand is really small,” he murmurs with an amused smile, comparing your palms.

He spreads his fingers, inviting you to do the same. You place your palm against his, and the difference is striking: his fingers extend well beyond yours, his hand almost seeming to encompass yours entirely.

“It's cute,” he adds, slowly intertwining your fingers and looking at you with a glow of infinite love.

You look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Do you think it's cute?” A slight blush appears on your cheeks, a little embarrassed.

“Of course,” he says with a small smile, tilting his head slightly. “It reminds me how cute I think you are.”

His tone is light, but there's an undeniable sincerity in his words. You feel the warmth emanating from his hand, the contrast between the imposing size of his and yours.

He looks down at your fingers trapped in his and gently squeezes your hand. “I like holding your hand like this,” he continues in a softer voice. “It makes me feel safe. You're always next to me.”

You smile a little before squeezing his hand a little tighter in return. “Me too.”

Geto looks at you for a moment before lifting your intertwined hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss on your fingers. He doesn't need to say more. Through this simple contact, he lets you know everything he feels for you.

And you let yourself be enveloped by this gentle warmth, appreciating the difference in size between your hands. You find it cute too, to be honest.

Toji F.

It's evening, and after a long week, you're comfortably settled on the couch with a bucket of tenders. The enticing aroma fills the room, and there's only one last piece left, sitting innocently in the center of the coffee table.

You glance furtively at Toji, who seems to have spotted it as well. A smirk forms on his lips, and you know this battle is going to be about more than just food.

"I think this chicken belongs to me," he says in a low, amused voice, his eyes challenging you from across the table.

You raise an eyebrow in amusement. "Oh, really? I thought I was the one who called the shots tonight. I did order, after all."

Toji bursts out laughing, a deep, seductive sound. He reaches for the piece of chicken. "You know, I think we're not on the same page when it comes to chicken."

Before you can even answer, you reach out as well, trying to grab the last piece of chicken at the same time as him. But, of course, Toji doesn't budge. He grabs your hand with a jerk, and you feel the difference in strength in his grip.

His hands are large, his fingers long and firm. His almost completely envelops yours, making your hand seem so small in comparison. His thumb rests on the top of your hand, restraining you slightly, but not aggressively. It's just... his natural power, the way he effortlessly dominates.

"Your hand is far too small to compete with mine," he says, grinning, his eyes shining with mischief.

You frown and try to pull at the piece of chicken. "You underestimate my determination, Toji."

But the more you pull, the more you feel the difference in size and strength between the two of you. He doesn't have to force you to hold on, and you're well aware that even if you really want that piece of chicken, you can't fight his grip.

"Okay, okay," you finally say, smiling. "You can have that last piece. But you won't get away with it so easily next time, T-O-J-I, and I don't have a small hand."

Toji laughs again, but instead of simply keeping the piece for himself, he holds it out to you, a softer smile on his face. "You're even cuter when you fight over chicken with your little baby hand."

He watches you for a moment, and you feel his gaze slide down to your hand still resting on his. "Shut up. You're annoying me, Toji." Your cheeks turn slightly red.

With a certain gentleness, he drops the piece onto your plate, without any sign of dominance this time. You're cute when you pout, especially over chicken, Toji thinks.

Toji flops onto the couch, a satisfied smile on his lips. “It was fun, but we both know I’m the fastest.”

You laugh, taking a bite of the chicken he’d 'left' for you. “Yes. I can confirm… even in bed, Toji.”

He stares at you intensely, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “Say that again, princess?” You knew he’d make you regret it.

Sukuna R.

Sukuna's hands are imposing, inhuman in their size and power. When he takes your hand, it's as if the universe around you shrinks. His hand, much larger than yours, envelops yours with a quiet mastery, a natural dominance.

His skin is warm, and the texture of his fingers, rough, contrasts with the softness of yours. But it's not unpleasant. Rather, it's pleasant, a mixture of respect and adoration.

He is your king, and you, his queen.

You feel small next to him, but it's a feeling you've learned to appreciate. In his hand, you find a protection that requires no words. Sukuna doesn't need to tell you he'll protect you; he proves it every day with his gestures.

He squeezes your hand in a possessive yet tender way, as if he wants to mark you with his presence. Even his presence can be felt from afar. “Your hand… It’s so small compared to mine,” he murmurs, his deep voice echoing in the air. His eyes fix on you, a glint of amusement in yours.

“But I don’t need a hand that big,” you reply, looking him straight in the eye. “As long as you’re holding it.” A smile forms on your lips.

Sukuna lets a faint smile play on his lips, a loving smile that sends shivers down your spine.

“You are mine. Even though your hands are small, they are more powerful than any other. For they belong to me.”

He squeezes a little tighter, and you feel no pain, just an overwhelming presence. Your hand is completely engulfed in his. You’ve never been so sure of your love for him.

He is your king, but in his gestures, you see the man behind the crown. The one who cares for you, even with his sovereign nature. Others might fear his hand, but you see it as a symbol of his strength and love for you.

“Sukuna…” you whisper, your heart beating a little faster.

“I know,” he says with a teasing smile, his fingers tightening around yours once more. “I am your king, but also… I am your husband. I must fulfill my duties as your husband now.”

“Sukuna!”

Choso K.

Choso smiles at you tenderly as he takes your hand in his. His long, slender fingers gently envelop yours. He watches you with gentle eyes, as if making sure you're comfortable, and a small smile forms on his lips.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks softly, his voice low and reassuring. He frowns slightly, worried about any pain or discomfort you might feel.

You lift your head and meet his gaze. The size difference between your hands is striking, your hand seeming so small and fragile compared to his. But Choso never makes you feel inferior or vulnerable.

On the contrary, he squeezes your hand even more gently, as if to protect you, to show you that he's there for you, without ever making you feel his strength in a threatening way.

“I'm okay, baby,” you say with a reassuring smile, giving your hand a little squeeze in his. “You know I love it when you hold my hand.”

He blushes slightly at your words, and you see his gaze soften even more. It's moments like these when his adorably shy side resurfaces, even though he's usually pretty quiet and reserved.

“You really are the most important person to me,” he murmurs then, looking down. “I always want to protect you. Even if it's just for a moment like this.”

The warmth of his skin against yours is comforting, reminding you how much he cares, even in the simplest of moments. He takes a moment to gently stroke the back of your hand with his thumb, creating a pleasantly soft sensation.

“I love the way you look at me,” you whisper back, your heart beating a little faster. “It makes me feel… special.”

Choso looks up at you, a shy but genuine smile playing on his lips. He's truly adorable, even when he tries to hide the depth of his feelings.

"You are," he says, his voice filled with tenderness. "You're special to me."

There's no doubt in your mind: Choso is, without a doubt, the sweetest man you know.

masterlist

requests: OPEN.

© 2025 itelya. All work belongs to @itelya. Do NOT repost, modify, translate or plagiarize in any way on ANY platforms.

[dismalflo]

touch

poly!moonwater x reader who doesn't know how to ask for what they need ✩ 911 words

summary: Being comfortable in a new relationship is hard, especially when your unsure of how to ask for what you crave - touch.

cw: fluff, comfort, newly established relationship, touch starved reader

an: first poly!moonwater work because i love them ahh

You’re tucked into the corner of the sofa, a blanket draped over your legs, eyes aimed at the TV—but you’re not really watching. Not properly. Your mind keeps drifting, snagging on the narrow space between your foot and Regulus’ thigh. The few inches might as well be miles.

They’ve been together far longer than you’ve been in the picture. There’s a rhythm to the way they move around each other, a seamless, quiet understanding you haven’t quite caught up to. It’s not that they’re always physical with each other—they're both careful with touch—but when one of them reaches out, the other always seems to know how to meet them halfway. It's natural. Intuitive. And you can't help but feel a step behind.

You know it’ll come with time. That closeness. That ease. But right now, you’re stuck in your own head. You don’t know how to ask for what you need without sounding needy. You’re scared that wanting something so gentle—so simple—might come across as selfish. And worse: you’re terrified of how much it would hurt if they pulled away.

A soft shuffle pulls you from your thoughts. Remus enters the room carrying a plate of snacks, setting them on the table. If only he could hear the noise inside your head. But you don’t say anything. Can’t.

“Are you okay, dove?” Remus asks, voice low and gentle as his eyes land on you. They soften immediately. He sees you. “You look a bit pale.”

You nod automatically, not trusting your voice, and Regulus hums inquisitively before moving. His hand reaches for your forehead without hesitation, fingers cool against your skin. You freeze—not because you don’t want it, but because you want it too much. Your body stiffens, like you’re afraid any movement might scare him off.

He won’t pull away, you remind yourself. He’s your boyfriend. He loves you. They both do. But the fear still lingers, soft and persistent.

When his touch finally lands, it’s grounding. Your shoulders sag under the weight of relief, tension uncoiling from your spine. Regulus’ brows draw together, concern written across his sharp features as he glances toward Remus, silently asking is something wrong?

Remus catches your eye again, and you flush under the attention. Your face burns, caught in that spotlight of care.

“Come here, lovely,” Remus says gently, rising from the chair he’d just settled into. The offer is quiet, but it opens a door.

You don’t think—you just go.

He gathers you into his arms the second you reach him, pulling you in without question. His embrace is warm and steady, and the moment your body touches his, something inside you clicks into place. You hold on tight, fingers curling into the back of his jumper like you might fall apart if you don’t.

“Hmm,” Remus hums, mostly to himself. “Thought so.” He kisses your forehead softly, his lips lingering for a beat longer than necessary.

Regulus, watching from the couch, tilts his head. He’s catching on too. “Have we not been giving you enough attention, amour?” he asks, voice laced with both concern and a teasing edge. Not mocking—never mocking—just wanting to make it easier to answer.

You shake your head too quickly. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…” The words stick in your throat, fragile and knotted.

Remus gently tilts your chin up, coaxing your gaze to his. “Just what, darling?”

You exhale, shaky and small. “I know you don’t always want touch. And I don’t want to ask if it’s not… something you want.”

Regulus doesn’t hesitate. “We like it when it’s with you.” His voice is firm, steady—like it’s the most obvious truth in the world. “You don’t have to question that.”

Your breath catches at the certainty in his voice. You glance between them, finding nothing but softness and love in their expressions.

“You never have to be afraid to ask for affection,” Remus says, brushing your hair gently from your face. “We want to know what you need, so we can give it to you.”

His hands cup your face then, holding you like you’re precious. Like you’re theirs.

“We want to love you the way you need to be loved,” he adds, and the words settle into the quiet places of your heart, chasing away the doubt that had nested there.

You nod slowly, your body growing heavier with the kind of relief that makes you feel lighter all at once.

Without needing to speak, Remus guides you back toward the sofa where Regulus waits, arms already open. You sink between them easily, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Remus presses a kiss to your temple, his lips warm and reassuring, while Regulus rests his chin on your head, one hand stroking your arm in gentle, soothing passes.

“Is this alright?” Remus murmurs, voice barely audible.

You nod, voice catching with emotion. “Yeah… it’s perfect.”

Regulus smiles against your hair. “Good,” he whispers, and you can feel the truth in it

The TV hums in the background, but none of you are really watching. You’re wrapped in their arms, surrounded by warmth and steady breaths and the kind of love that asks nothing but gives everything.

And when Regulus leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, and Remus rests his hand on your thigh in quiet comfort, it’s not about proving anything—it’s just them loving you, completely and deliberately, the way you never have to ask for again.

masterlist <3

[honeydazai]

₊˚⊹♡ comparing hands with Fyodor

❥ a!! i really want to get on vgen, and to be accepted i'd need 100 likes and 5 unique comments... please help a girlie out.....

❥ my vgen is vgen.co/lemoncrunch !!

It does not take a genius to notice that Fyodor's hands are pretty. It's a purely objective statement, or so you like to claim — his skin is pale to the point of shimmering with translucence, blue veins prominent, and his fingers are long and thin, knuckles protruding.

They're on display for you whenever he plays the cello, holding the bow and allowing it to glide over the strings, the motion elegant purely in itself, yet underlined by the music filling the room. The deep notes entrance you, willing you to step inside the room, warm with the fire place crackling just a few metres away despite the frost biting at the window panes, and just watch.

Despite the wonderful show of his obvious musical talent, your attention keeps flickering to his hands, to the way his fragile wrist flexes. It's no wonder you get curious — and even less of one that he's well aware of your fascination. Lilac eyes move towards you ever so often, observing you observing him, and it's only a matter of time until he puts the cello down, focus now on you.

“Is there something on your mind?” he asks, amusement faintly veiled, and you quickly nod.

“May I see your hands?”

You're glad he's this agreeable when it comes to indulging your every whim.

Moments later, you're perched up on the arm of the sofa, towering just a bit over him, and your palms are pressed together flat. His skin is cold to the touch, always a bit of a surprise, and, apart from the callouses on his fingers, smooth.

Pale lips twitch into a smile, Fyodor's eyebrows raised in humour. “And what exactly are you hoping to see?”

“Just our hands.” An unsatisfactory response, certainly, so you quickly tack on: “I don't really know, I merely like yours a lot. They're very pretty. At first I just wanted to look at them up close, but then I wanted to see how ours look together, you know? To see how they compare.”

He hums in response, soft. “And how do they compare?”

You squint a little. His fingers surpass yours, long and boney, and despite the gentle moment, you can't quite suppress a faint line of thoughts, asking yourself how they'd feel touching you anywhere else, ghosting over your skin, pushing inside of you. Quickly, you blink, forcing those fantasies away to indulge in another time.

“You're still biting your nails”, you say instead, tone scolding.

Fyodor huffs out a small chuckle. “Guilty as charged.”

“I told you that's a bad thing to do. They'll never grow strong when you keep doing that.”

“An old habit, I suppose. I need them to be short in order to play the cello, anyway.” Loose strands of black hair fall in front of his eyes when he shifts. Your hands are still pressed flush against each other's. “Are you done comparing?”

“I guess so.” Before he's able to pull away, you weave your fingers between his, clasping his hand in yours, smiling, victorious. “This was all a plan to trick you into holding hands, though. And you fell for it.”

You really can't tell if his surprise is genuine or faked — truthfully, you suspect the latter, though even that effort of his makes your chest feel warm inside —; his eyes widen before he exhales, allowing himself to dramatically slump against the sofa's backrest.

“It appears I did. Blame a man for letting his guard down around his beloved.”

tags: @chxrry-doll @irethepotato @beandaifuku, @the-foreigner , @ranpobb, @arixsux, @dei-lilxc , @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @alice0blog @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha

@xvocadooo @hexiisexii @cupxfcxffee @jodidann @Happymoon16 @yumidepain @nchuuyahq @janeinerz @Aaronthegreatestsimp @fanfiction-waifu @KimxKiba @Morigumy @villainouspotential @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @nikolaisgoofyahhhat @yeonwoomyheartbelongstoyou @hellgirlwhore @c4xcocoa @lyrstybsd @angelsrunes @wuaoqu @disa-ster @aspookyscaryghost @nikolaisboner

@urgodmoon @polish-anon @arisu-chan4646nsfw @eroscastle @somnobun @birbysaur @Senpaible @hyunlixie143 @dababyurmom @4nthonyyliving @brokeniced @nikolaisdove @dxwnstxr @scinclaitnoir @snips18 @flowzel @satohruu @squigglewigglewoo @rainy-dazie @itzashlyn123 @rheeeeeeeesiees @eggcoreloser @mariaace @mello0cat @warriordemigosworld

@thescrunkly @ainegueneres @maroj23 @dazaiserectnips @little-miss-chaoss @just-one-person-xd

@fairlyfuji @seraphxoxo @inojuuy @suicide-with-dazai @meowal @hhoneyhan @Kalinkavx @whatisnerotypical @elwanore @kioshikitten

@1lesl @iams0up @diamond-joy @hapikiou @williamafton26 @animewhore1843 @ripjuliana @broken-spirit101 @damsalindistress

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley Imagines List

Before you ask, yes I been meaning to use @ave661 renders ever since she posted the Dad!Ghost part 2. Did I use most of them in this post? You know damn well I did.

Did I put in so much work into this one post? Yes. Am I going to be upset if it doesn't do as well as the ones I didn't put much effort in (Ahem the quokka Price imagine)? Also yes.

Tagging people who I think would like this: @puff0o0, @blingblong55. Honestly that was it but if y'all wanna be tagged in the next post then tell me in the replies :)

Parings: Ghost x Wife!Reader

❥ Dad!Simon who values nothing else over spending time with you and your child, even if it's something as simple as him and your little one laying down on your lap while you watch tv together. (Top left pic 🥺)

❥ Dad!Simon who gives the baby a bath for the first time, doing his best not to get soap in their eyes. Him rubbing the baby's head gently with his thumb to wash the suds off the little one's head and hair while they look up at him and coo.

❥ Dad!Simon who had a heart attack the moment he heard the baby cough while they're still in the baby bath net. He just turned away for a second to grab the towel behind him, the one moment he took his eyes off them, the little rascal tried to drink the bath water.

❥ Dad!Simon who's ever so gentle with dressing the baby, they're too little and too fragile in his eyes. Watching the baby try to chew on their own fist while he puts their little socks on. (Matching skeleton mittens for the little baby 🥺)

❥ Dad!Simon who loves hearing his baby let out such loud giggles whenever he kisses them, it's music to his ears to hear his little one let out such a hearty laugh, their little arms and legs flailing because their face is being tickled by his stuble.

❥ Dad!Simon who absolutely adores when his baby attempts kissing him or you (their momma) because it's basically just them having their tiny hands on his or your face while they're open-mouthed and almost headbutting their little lips on either yours or your husband's face.

❥ Dad!Simon who absolutely love nap time, mainly because he takes the naps with them. Nothing more sweet than waking up with the little one's life you two brought to this world.

❥ Dad!Simon who you found awake in the middle of the night to put the baby back down to sleep.

"Come on now pumpkin, you should let your momma rest. She's extremely tired of taking care of both of us.." Simon whispers while he cradles the baby in his arms, trying to lull them back to sleep.

You couldn't help but smile, knowing that what you do doesn't go unappreciated.

"I would never get tired taking care of you two" You said in a hushed tone, making Simon's head snap to the doorway.

To see you, his loving wife look at him as if he was the most important thing in this world reminded him if why he wanted to marry you a few years back.

❥ Dad!Simon who receives a video you sent him while he's deployed of the baby waking up from a nap.

❥ Dad!Simon who doesn't notice you in the room while you were trying to collect laundry, he was working out, you caught him doing push ups and your baby's attempts in copying their dad.

❥ Dad!Simon who bought the baby a little stuffie that they now are emotionally attached to and bring everywhere, yeah the baby constantly signals Simon to kiss the stuffie too.

❥ Dad!Simon who had to train Riley not to lick the baby so much because dog slobber and even though Riley was well behaved, poor thing didn't have much of a self-control the first time you guys brought the baby home.

❥ Dad!Simon who thinks it's absolutely adorable that his little one likes Riley so much.

"Dada!" The baby called out for Simon.

"Dada, Ri-ley" They said, pointing out a little finger to your family dog.

"Yeah pumpkin, that's Riley" Simon said, letting the little one make a beeline and waddled quickly towards Riley, giving the dog a hug with their tiny arms.

❥ Dad!Simon who spends forever looking for the skull part of his mask only to find the baby trying to chew on it, couldn't really blame them because the sight was cute and he knew how agitated they were with teething.

❥ Dad!Simon who constantly washed his gloves and almost never took it off during your baby's teething stage because god they were a strong biter. The gloves helped cushion the pain of the bites a lot.

❥ Dad!Simon who swore his heart was about to burst when he saw you and the baby meet him before he was able to go home after deployment for a surprise. (Of course Price was the one who set it up, he wanted to see his grandchild (might as well be)

"Dadadada–dada—da" Your baby squealed out while reaching out, recognizing Simon almost too fast even with the mask on.

"Pumpkin," Simon says as he takes your baby out of your arms and into his "–yeah, dada's here now. Missed me like I missed you?" Simon asks the baby as if they could actually respond.

The little one let out a happy little gurgle, hands reaching out for Simon's face.

"I'll take that as a yes" Simon tenderly kisses the top of the baby's head through his balaclava.

❥ Dad!Simon who loves baby hugs, the tiny little arms providing a bit of warmth while he holds his baby in his, rubbing their little head with his gloved hand and fingers.

Taskforce interacting with little Ghostie

[captain-huggy-bear]

No because also Quinn to me, loves to make marks on you, but those ones that are visible to his eyes only

You're so right and so valid on this because I totally agree that Quinn is a marker. Definitely bites, definitely leaves hickeys but they're more privately placed. They're for him so that when he takes your clothes off he can get a little thrill from seeing that he's got a claim on you, knowing no one else gets to touch you or kiss you like he does. 18+ MDNI/NSFW under the cut - still think my NSFW is naff but the more you practice, right? This got out of hand and went from tiny to not so tiny... Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

Quinn Hughes does not leave hickeys on your neck. There are a few reasons for this. The first is your job. Quinn's mindful of the fact you can't just walk into work covered in hickeys, aware that covering them would make your long day even longer and be an inconvenience. Something he never wants to be to you. He'd rather you get an extra 10 minutes of sleep than have to spend those 10 minutes hiding all his marks.

The second reason is entirely more possessive and machoistic. He doesn't leave hickeys on your neck because he's too busy leaving them across your inner thighs, your hips, your stomach, your chest, because only he gets to see those areas, because only he gets to put his mouth on you like that. If he could he'd write his name in marks across your skin, a big neon sign to anyone who ever dared get that close to you that you were off limits.

But you're a good girl, his good girl and you'd never let anyone else that close. So, they're mostly for him, for his own sense of male pride every single time he takes your clothes off.

Like now. Quinn's always gentle when he helps you out of your clothes and today is no different, peeling your dress from your body like it's the most fragile thing in the world, being mindful of your hair and face as he pulls if over your head and lays it on the back of a chair. He's tender as your bra is unclasped, red marks from the band being soothed by long fingers, and your panties are stripped off until you're bare and naked in front of him. It's impossible to be self-conscious like this around Quinn with the way he looks at you like you're an altar for him to worship at, an idol for devotion and prayer.

He's loving when he pushes you back until your laying flat on the bed, shifting a pillow under your neck and one under your hips to make sure you're comfortable before settling himself to kneel between your thighs. Quinn's hands fall to your knees, warm, long fingers dancing across your knees up and up, as he takes you in.

You're gorgeous to him, always have been, but his focus isn't on your centre, wet and slick for him, or your breasts like you might expect from a man when his girlfriend is laid bare before him. No, Quinn's focus is on the fading marks littering your skin, the one's that he placed there over the course of days and weeks.

His fingers follow the fading hickeys on the inside of your thighs, you shifting with a quiet moan at the feeling across your sensitive skin. It feels like a tease. The way he grazes those marks softly, lightly, enough pressure to set your nerves alight but not enough to do anything meaningful.

Quinn reaches your hips, the fingertip shaped bruises there from a few days go when he gripped your hips so tight while fucking, so tight his mark was left there and he'd kissed them as an apology, one you didn't even want because you'd loved it. He leans forward now, lips pressing back to those marks, opening lightly to suck on them, tongue laving over them, deepening the faded purple to fresh and new, as blood vessels burst under his tongue. Your hips shift underneath him, unable to stop it as slick gathers between your thighs, clit throbbing because his attention is in the wrong place.

"Quinn..." you breathe his name out like a prayer, soft and gentle but filled with the sort of desperation that has him stopping, smirking into your hip as he looks up at you from underneath his lashes, eyes dark with want.

"Patient, baby, 'm admiring my handy work." Fingers dance back down and smooth over your inner thighs, thumbs rubbing at the crease between thigh and hip, a purposeful tease now because you're squirming and sighing and he can't help himself.

"Quinn..." You're so impatient he almost wants to laugh, but he's not done yet, wants to admire every old mark on you first and then add some new ones before anything more. You need to be patient for him, he can't be rushed right now.

"You can be patient for me, can't you, baby? You're my good girl, you gonna show me that, yeah?"

"Yeah..." It's instinct, hardwired into you at this point, that when Quinn calls you his good girl you can't help but agree to whatever he wants. You'll be patient no matter how frustrating it is, because he's asked you to be, because you want to be so, so good for him and you know you'll be rewarded for it.

"Atta girl." You don't urge him to do something again, not this time, not even as he's kissing up your hip and to your tummy, the hickeys he'd left there a week ago just about visible. So faded that it's just a shame in his eyes.

He takes his time with your soft stomach, presses his chest against your hips so you can barely squirm, barely wriggle beneath him. His lips take your skin between them, sucking and kissing until he's renewed each and every mark. The faded spots now bright red and purple, hands still grazing your inner thighs as he moves higher.

Quinn's lips follow a trail up your navel and chest, finding the marks across your boobs, the marks here varying i ages and shades of purple and red. New ones from the other day still going strong, while older ones have all but disappeared, it's a shame he thinks, that there are so many empty spots across the plush skin. There's nothing that could stop Quinn from filing those gaps, just as there's nothing that can stop your hands jumping to his hair when he begins to suck on the sensitive skin of your left breast, determined to fill the gaps.

You're squirming harder underneath him, throbbing at your core, slick with want as your fingers tug hard at his brunet strands. Still you don't ask him to stop, don't ask him to touch you more, just whimper and moan out his name in encouragement as he fills in each blank spot across your breasts.

When he pulls back finally you're a Monet painting, a Jackson Pollock of hickeys and bruises but only in your most intimate areas, only in places no one else will get to see, only for him. He smirks down at you with heavy lidded eyes, darting across your skin like the marks are the best painting he's ever seen and then he stops, eyes fixed on your thighs. His expression grows dissatisfied because he forgot to press new marks on your inner thighs, those marks fading and nearly gone, something he simply cannot allow.

You don't even get a beat to breathe, a moment to think before he's sliding down your body and pressing your hips down to the bed with one forearm, lips pressing to your right thigh and sucking hard.

"Quinn!" You can't help it, his name comes out like a desperate mantra as he all but attacks your thighs, the most sensitive skin being assaulted with hickeys. Marks sucked in, fingertips pressing, from just above your knee, up, up and up until he's almost at your centre before he switches thighs. You're certain this is how you'll die, unsatisfied, running a fever, practically gushing between your thighs while Quinn seems all but disinterested in anything that isn't marking you up like his property.

He's not cruel though, no Quinn could never be cruel to you not when you're being so good for him. It's what has him shifting one of your legs over shoulder while his fingers track their way up your thigh to your centre. The first touch of his fingertips against your slit has you practically jumping, unexpected but not unwelcome. He wastes little time in pressing a finger into you, sliding in oh so easily. Your walls clamp around his finger like his lips clamp around the flesh of your thigh and you can't help the shameless moan that falls from your chest as you squirm.

It's the most delicious form of torture, one finger moving inside you, your walls pressing against it but nothing more, it's not enough. But you know asking for more won't get you anywhere, so all you can do is moan his name, take the little he gives you even as slick practically drips down your thighs.

He doesn't let up when he pulls back to look at his handy work, in fact, Quinn slips a second long finger inside you as he looks at the marks across your thighs. Scattered marks of purple and red covering the inside of your thighs in the best sort of way, the way that he knows no one would be able to mistake that you're taken, you're his and only his. It sends a possessive sort of thrill through him to have you under him like that, covered in his marks and writhing with his fingers plunging into you. It's the sort of thrill that has him so proud of you for being so good for him, so proud he just wants to reward you for all your patience.

"You've been so good for me, baby, such a good girl, yeah?"

You can't even speak, just nodding your head frantically as heavy eyes look up at him, so desperate for something, anything that'll finally make you cum. He can't help the pride he feels because he knows he's ruined you for anyone else. No one could treat you this good, no one could get you off like this, no one could make you such a good girl for them but him. You're his no matter what.

"Gonna reward you, baby, give you what you need."

There's no preamble, no build up or hesitation before he's settling back between your thighs, throwing both legs over shoulders and sucking your clit into his mouth, your back arching off the bed at the sudden sensation.

Quinn's fingers don't let up, thrusting in and out of you, searching for that spongy spot just at the back of your walls that has you whining. Lips latched onto your clit like it's a popsicle for him to suck on. He's building you up to that high you've been waiting on all night, your walls gripping him so tightly it's almost a chore to move his fingers.

You whine in frustration when his fingers leave you, lips popping off your clit, and you're scared he's going to leave you like that, that you haven't been good enough.

"Don't worry, baby, I've got you, promise, just want a taste of you..." He follows through on his promise, your frustration giving way to pleasure as his mouth finds your slit, his fingers swapping to your clit.

His tongue slides into you, moaning against you at your taste, as your legs clamp around his head like a vice and Quinn's pretty certain he'd die happy like that. That he'd be happy to go so long as it was suffocated in your cunt with your thighs crushing his skull. He pulls you as close to his mouth as he can, fingers pressing more firmly in circles around your clit until you're feeling too much, over sensitive and trying to pull away but he doesn't let you go, not done. Not had his fill, not happy until he hears your gasps and moans stop, breathing halted as you finally cum for him, slick flooding his mouth like some sort of divine nectar of the gods.

He keeps going even after you've cum, not content with just one orgasm from you, a couple of fingers sliding in besides his tongue and crooking against that spongy spot inside you. You're sensitive, overly so and it's not long before the crooking of those fingers combined with the slide of his tongue against your clit has you orgasming for the second time.

This time when your hands push at his shoulders he withdraws, coming up for air, slick around his mouth and chin, fingers leaving you as you wince.

"Taste so fucking good, baby..."

"Quinn..." He crawls up your body until he's leaning over you, lips pressing to your cheek messily even as he leaves your own cum behind in a glistening trail.

"Been such a good girl for me, angel, so good. You okay?" His nose nuzzles behind your ear and it's gentle, sweet. He's rock hard, but he doesn't care, just cares about you, how you're doing, if you want more or if you want cuddles. Either is good for him.

"Mmm, need you in me, please?"

"Yeah? You sure you can take it?" He's not even being cocky, just concerned that you might be too sensitive, that it might be too much after 2 orgasms.

"Can take it, promise."

"You tell me if you want to stop, yeah, baby?" You nod, but that's not good enough for him.

"Use your words, baby."

"Promise, Quinny"

"Good girl," He slips in with such ease you're gasping at the sudden intrusion, legs clamping over his hips to draw him closer until the head of his cock is up against that spot that has your jaw dropping open, moan drawn from the back of your throat, head dropping back.

He sets a hard pace because he's so ready to cum, been holding back for so long that he needs you to cum one more time so he can finally get his own release. Quinn's hips smack into yours, the sound of slick, of skin hitting skin filling the air around the two of you. Your hands are around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin to leave half-moon circles, while one of his holds your throat, pressing the sides just enough for that coil in your belly to wind tighter.

His free hand slips between the two of you, two fingers sliding over your clit, circling, earning a gasp from you as your walls squeeze his cock so tight he has to stop, take a moment, before continuing.

It's times like this, when you're gripping him raw that he's thankful for the pill, for the fact that that moment you cum around him, your walls so tight that he's following after, that he can spill inside you without thinking.

[megu-meow]

when gojo falls in love - gojo satoru

gojo satoru x fem. reader

Summary: She fell first, but he fell harder.

It was hard not to fall in love with Gojo Satoru. He was a ray of sunshine, always lifting the mood in every room, radiating the friendliest, kindest aura you have ever witnessed. His youthful, laid-back personality complemented his intelligence and wit, always having a funny comeback to Suguru's constant teasing.

He seemed so unapproachable to you, the Strongest, the Honored One, the Heir of the Gojo Clan, the Wielder of the Six Eyes, and Master of the Limitless. Those were the titles he was referred to in your crazy world, someone who was to be praised for the immense power he wielded and the enemies he had eliminated. However, you saw Satoru in a different light, finding other reasons to praise him. The gentleness he would befriend a stray cat with, the way he politely bows at the cashier at his favorite bakery, or the fact that he makes soup for everyone after a night out to cure your hangovers. He buys a bouquet of tulips for every girl and woman on Jujutsu Tech's campus, without exception, on International Women's Day. He remembers the lunch lady's son's birthday and gives her the remote-control car the young boy so desperately wanted because he knew Watanabe-sama, as he refers to her, could never afford it. He sits down to play chess with the elderly man in front of the convenience store every day because he knows he lost his opponent for the last 40 years not too long ago.

It is easy to fall in love with Gojo Satoru, however, it is hard for Gojo Satoru to fall in love. Or at least, that's what he thinks. At first, when you join them, he doesn't give much thought to it. He's pleased that there is another girl added to the group, so he and Suguru don't have to listen to Shoko's constant whining about them being gross anymore. He also relishes in the attention you give him, because he knows you're quite infatuated with him, like most of the girls are.

However, as time passes, he realizes that your kindness makes a red hue run across his pale cheeks. Every time he does the smallest things, you praise him for it. Others don't compliment him on his politeness, something he prides himself on because his mother taught him to act this way - the only person who loved him for him so far. Other people praise him for his technique, his unique eyes, and his otherworldly good looks. You're the only one who notices the small things he does and that warms his fragile heart. So he asks you out on a date.

He doesn't give it much thought, just a walk in the park full of cherry blossoms and ice cream. However, he swoons at the fact that you seem like this is the best date you have ever been on, you thank him repeatedly for paying for your ice cream and offer him the Kit Kat chunk the guy stuck into your dessert as an attempt to flirt with you, because you know Satoru loves Kit Kats, they're his favorite candy bar.

Gojo Satoru reaches one important conclusion that night, after walking you to your dorm room. You are, in fact, very easy to fall in love with.

Instead of fighting it, he lets this new feeling flourish. He starts putting in an insane amount of effort, he pays attention to the small things, he drinks up every word that you speak, he takes notes on his phone because he wants to walk the extra mile for you. His new goal in life becomes making you, the first girl who looks past the titles and likes him for him, happy. His enthusiasm in doing so never falters, even after years together or after marriage.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asks you as his extremely perceptive eyes take in your slumped shoulders, the dark circles under your eyes and the slight frown that replaces the pretty smile he fell in love with.

"Long day, baby, long day." you sigh and he is quick on his feet, he embraces you, leaving a loving kiss on the crown of your head.

"Change your wizarding clothes, pretty girl, I'll run you a bath. How does that sound, huh?"

"Amazing, Satoru. Thank you!" you respond, smiling tiredly, leaving a kiss on his glossy lips.

"Everything for you."

Not only does he prepare a bath, but he also lights some candles, drops some lavender-infused salts in the water, and prepares some fruits and your book as well. While you relax your body in the water which is the perfect temperature, he makes your favorite meal for dinner and starts up the fireplace so that the two of you can cuddle up on the couch.

After dinner he holds you close, absentmindedly running his hands over your back, in your hair, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, small confessions that make you feel a lot better about yourself. Satoru would like to think that he is perfect at everything, but there's only one thing he takes pride in the most: learning how to make you feel better over the years. He always knows what to do, regardless of the reason why you're down. He knows how to pick you up.

"Toru?" he hears your voice, calling him by his favorite nickname. It makes him blush every time you call him that and he swears his heart picks up too.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Don't you ever get tired of taking care of me?"

"How could you say that?" he asks as he sits up, glaring at you with offended eyes "Of course not, baby. You're my everything, I could never get tired of making you feel good, love. It is also my duty as your lover to ensure your happiness. It's in my contract and everything." he makes you smile fondly, adoring his way of phrasing these things. Because even the hardest of conversations are pleasant when Satoru is there to put things so stupidly.

"Oh yeah? What else is in this contract of yours?"

"That I have to kiss you all the time. And - and that I will have to get you a cat at one point because I know you want one. I have to feed you when you're hungry and I have to do the laundry when you get home late. Oh, and most importantly I always have to split my desserts with you. Only you, not even Suguru gets to do splitsies."

"I see. And what is in my contract?"

"Nothing. You already honored yours." he says curtly and you look at him with confusion.

"How?"

"Well, the only thing in your contract was that you have to be my lover. Nothing else. I'm the one doing the heavy lifting here, every day I get to spend as your significant other is a good day for me. You don't have to do anything else to make me happy." he explains.

You look him in the eyes, your irises filled with nothing but adoration towards the man in front of you. It is so easy to be in love with Gojo Satoru, because he is a gentleman in a world of boys.

[robertpattersonsleftcoochieflap]

Xiao & Wanderer Anatomy headcannons

Warnings; non-human anatomy, minor body horror (?), NSFW

Xiao ♡

Do not let an adepti's humanistic appearance fool you; They are built completely differently to humans.

On the outside, an adepti can make themselves look relatively human if they so choose. Though they're not hard to spot due to their unnaturally beautiful appearance and intricately made outfits.

If one looked at Xiao hard enough, they'd definitely start to notice his non-human features -- For example; his pointed ears, teeth and nails.

Upon closer inspection, they'd notice his sharp, cat-like irises and lack of pores on his skin. His completion is completely clear of imperfections -- a sign of his above-human nature.

If one removed Xiao's clothing; that's where they'd notice the difference. Adepti do not have nipples or belly buttons -- they have no need for either.

Xiao, of course, knew what they were. He'd been around for a very long time and had observed humans throughout the years -- both clothed and unclothed. He never found them particularly attractive; until you came along.

Xiao finds himself enjoying suckling on your nipples, rubbing and tweaking them between his fingers. He finds them infinitely more exciting than his own flat, bare pectorals.

He does, however, enjoy when you mouth at his chest. He gets an almost phantom feeling of you suckling on his nipples. Nothing makes him wetter.

Another difference in his anatomy is what lies between his legs.

Adepti are not bound by gender and are ever-changing in their forms to suit their needs.

Xiao cares little for human societal norms and finds them rather confusing. Most humans he comes across instinctively refer to him as a male -- which he doesn't particularly mind. But he is also not completely sure what it is about himself that causes them to assume that's what he is. Perhaps it is his voice? His flat chest? He has seen human males naked and knows that what is between his legs is much more similar to that of a human female.

Xiaos form - the one he was 'born' into - is that of a bird. He takes on many traits and behaviours of a bird; such as nesting and collecting trinkets he finds on his travels.

Many millennia ago, Xiao once had great turquoise wings. They were magnificent. Large and powerful. Unfortunately, they were taken by his old master and he still bares the scars on his back from them to this day. They ache and pain him from time to time.

Xiao is particularly protective of his nest. He spent many years crafting it, using only his best materials for it. Being invited into it is a great honor only bestowed to his closest friends (Zhongli) and you - his mate.

Wanderer ♡

The Wanderer was a puppet built by the electro-archon herself. Crafted with care by skillful hands. Only to be discarded in the end.

Wanderer's body was sculpted in the image of the electro archon. Infused with ancient technology and pure elemental power. Despite all this, he is built much like a human.

Wanderers' body is pristine and perfect. He bares not a single scar or blemish. His skin is cold to the touch and he has a much higher tolerance to the temperatures; though he seemingly is able to taste things to a much higher degree than a human can, making him overwhelmed by strong flavours - causing him to prefer things with a subtle taste, such as tea.

Wanderers body had gona through many changes over his years at the fatui. He'd been taken apart and put back together. His parts broken and replaced.

Contrary to the belief of many. Wanderer did feel. He had the same amount of feeling as a human would; perhaps even more. He felt both pleasure and pain the same. Though he was much more used to the feeling of pain.

Wanderer finds himself enjoying the feeling of being held and touched with gentleness. He is so used to being treated roughly by most because they know they can just piece him back together; he enjoys the feeling of being fragile. It makes him feel like he is important and cherished by you.

Do not mistake this as a weakness though. It took him a very long time to appreciate your touch and the pleasure that comes with it. He may act like he doesn't care for it in front of most, but he is always in some sort of physical contact with you; whether it be brushing up against you, feet touching under the table or simply placing his hand over yours when nobody's looking.

Wanderer is beautiful and he knows it. Throughout the years his beauty has deceived people into thinking he was weak. How wrong they were.

Back in his 'youth'. When he had longer hair - he found himself frequently referred to as a woman. Not that he particularly cared. Humans were fickle creatures and he thought their obsession with labeling each other was foolish. Gods were above such things; as was Wanderer.

Nowadays, Wanderer finds himself to be referred to as a man. He finds that with the title of being a male; people are more likely to take him seriously. He can't say he completely understands why either and finds it odd as he has experienced life living as both.

He noticed the change in pronouns once he'd decided to cut his hair short. He didn't understand why his hair was the deciding factor for people when they determined whether or not he was a male or female. Wanderer knew the difference in anatomy between human male and females. Human males had a flat chest an extra appendage, which he did not himself have and human females had larger breasts and a slit between their legs. If wanderer were to categorise himself, he'd probably say he fits into both - but he's not going to do that because he does not care enough to.

During his time with the fatui, the doctor had done many unnecessary experiments on him. One included giving him a penis. Dottore claimed it was what 'men' had and since he's fronting as a man, he should have one. Wanderer disagreed. After experiencing having a penis for himself, he quickly decided it was inconvenient and that whatever he had in his pants didn't define him. He's a god after all. Not long after he was given back his rightful genitals that were taken from him.

While the wanderer's body is pristine and modelled in the likeness of a human, some areas are a dead giveaway that he is not human. Wanderer's back is rarely seen, always covered in the thick material of his clothes. That is because they hide his most sensitive areas beneath them - his access points.

Along Wanderer's back are connection points for tubes and power sources. While Wander doesn't need to be powered manually anymore with the help of his visions elemental power, he still has the ports that were once used to power him. There are 4 small ports on his back and 1 on the back of his neck. His neck is by far his most sensitive place with it also being the area he bares his electro sigil. He comes undone at the lightest touches of them. They are by far one of your favourite things about him - teasingly circling the holes on his back with your finger is one of your favourite things to. A way to get him instantly worked up.

Wrote this after i took my painkillers so i hope this makes sense. Lmk if anyone wants any scenarios involving these headcannons.

Enjoy.