#give me my body back! Let him REST!! If I can’t he should be allowed to!!!!!!

[deathblacksmoke]

the unbearable weight of tenderness

pairing: jolly karlsson x f!reader

cw: unprotected p in v sex, soft dom jolly, reader is a little bossy and jolls is a perfect bb angel, kind of hurt/comfort but mostly just comfort, all sweet tings

word count: 1.6K

author’s note: the first of my jolly requests for the baby boy’s birthday ❤️ this one for my dearest hedy @darksigns-exe who wanted something nice and soft and comforting. thank you @circle-with-me as always for the beta!! i hope i did it justice <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥀

It’s all been too much today — your heart hasn’t returned to its normal rate in hours and you can’t seem to stop the trembling of your hands. You don’t know how much more of it you can take, how many more of these days you can stomach.

You wait outside the door, unsure if you should go inside yet. He’s probably had a nice, relaxing day with you out of the house. He hardly gets the opportunity, and he deserves it. You don’t want to ruin his mood and bring him down with you.

But all you want is your bed and Jolly.

You imagine the welcoming sink of the mattress, the hold of your sweet boy, the weight of him on top of you as he kisses away all the bad. You just need him to fix it. 

The immediate look of concern you’re met with when you step through the door and let your bag thud to the floor does little to soothe you, but he’s at your side in a moment, holding you to his chest as you allow yourself to slump into him.

“Bad day, darling?” he asks, but he doesn’t need to. He always knows. He’s long been able to read you perfectly, sense every little shift in your moods.

“Yeah,” you whine pathetically into his chest. He places a kiss to the top of your head and you feel as his lips curl into a smile. It isn’t mean-spirited. You can tell his gears are turning and he’s thinking up a solution.

Just like always.

“Why don’t you get comfortable while I order us some dinner. Does Chinese sound good?”

All you can bring yourself to do is nod, still feeling miserable, but hopeful and comforted as he separates from you and heads into the kitchen.

The thudding of his heartbeat beneath your ear soothes you. You’re still shaky, but at least if you can’t stop the trembling of your hands, you can place them on him.

But there’s something more you need. It’s usually just right, a lazy night in with him, but you can’t seem to settle. Even resting your full weight on him, his hands running through your hair, there’s a nagging buzz beneath your skin.

He notices — enough time spent squirming and unsettled on top of him has him fixing you with a look not quite of agitation, but a mix of impatience and pity.

“Are you doing all right, doll?” he asks you, and it’s almost teasing. You know what he needs from you before he gives you what you need, but instead you find yourself whimpering, squirming more until he stills you with a strong hand gripping your side.

“Joakim,” you whine, your eyes meeting his with a plea. “Please.”

“You have to tell me what you need,” comes his immediate response, stern and unwavering, but the edge of softness in his tone lets you know he isn’t angry with you. “I’ll give you what you need but you have to tell me what it is.”

“I just need you,” you beg, burying your face in his chest. You know he needs more from you, but it’s all so much. “Need you to get me out of my head, Jolly, please.”

You watch as the pity flickers back through his expression. There’s an undercurrent of desire, but it’s overwhelmed by something more tender as he traces a finger along your cheek.

“Do you want me to take you to bed?”

You feel as the ease floods through you, grateful he takes it easy on you just this once. You gaze up at him and nod, pleased and relieved as a grin spreads across his face.

The anxiety slowly seeps out of you as his body weight presses you into the sheets.

The welcome sink of the mattress is nothing compared to the burn, the sizzle under your skin everywhere you’re touching him — everywhere.

“Baby,” you gasp, with hardly a grasp on what you’re asking for, but it doesn’t matter. He knows. He always knows, as kisses are trailed from your lips, to your cheek, down your neck, over your collarbones. “Jolly.”

A soft shh is pressed into the skin of your chest. You vibrate with it, still trembling but in a way that’s so very different, a pleasant disquiet inside of you as he kisses away all the bad, like you knew he would. Just like he always does.

“I always take care of you, don’t I?” he asks. A rhetorical question, but you find yourself nodding nonetheless, your skin hot and feverish as your shaking hands find purchase on his bare shoulders.

It’s always so much with him, overwhelmed completely as you’re naked in your bed and bent to his will.

It should always be this way.

The angle is awkward, cramped and a little wrong, when he slides his hand down through your folds, brushing a finger over your clit and smiling into your chest as he draws a gasp from you.

“Do you want me to get you off like this?” 

You consider it for a long moment, losing yourself in the feeling of his rough hands on you. The callouses juxtapose with his ultra-gentle touch and it dizzies you. It’s enough.

It could be enough.

He could touch you like this for hours, his full weight resting on you as he draws orgasm after orgasm from you with practiced ease, but —

“No,” you gasp, grappling with his shoulders and pulling him back up to you. His pupils are blown when his eyes meet yours. He could do this for hours, too. You can’t help but pull him down to your lips, grateful for the way he always takes such perfect care of you. “Can I have your cock?”

He’s been so good for you, so patient, so polite — focusing entirely on you rather than his aching hardness. You knew. You felt it pressed into your thigh, saw him grinding his hips into the mattress as you felt the shift of the bed beneath you.

It’s for you, too, as much as him, when you ask for it. “Please.”

He nods, out of sorts, burying his face in your neck once more. Every part of you is covered by him. He’s so affected that he doesn’t make you work for it and you’re so thankful.

It’s with one languid move, smooth and practiced, that he lifts his hips and slides himself into you. 

The stretch burns — always does for just a moment — but he’s right there to soothe you with kisses when you find yourself gasping.

“Be good for me, love,” he breathes into your open mouth, accompanied by the steady, shallow rock of his hips. It’s your favorite thing, being wholly surrounded by him, being picked apart and pieced back together.

You’re adjusted before long, lost in the slow drag of him inside you and his lips on your skin as you relax into the mattress once more, letting him take care of you.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, nipping ever so gently at your bottom lip. Your mouth curves involuntarily into a grin. He always fixes it.

There’s a long while spent like that, his spit slick lips never parting from you, finding a home on your skin. 

Your mind shifts to the realization you could spend your whole night like this, your whole life like this, when he lifts his torso off yours.

“Hey, no,” you complain, grabbing at his sides to try to drag him back down to you. The hand that had been moving towards your center stops its descent, and he stops moving, and you feel a little bit like you want to scream. You can’t have him stop.

“You don’t want me to get you off?” he asks, and the sweet look on his face would make you soft for him, if not for your complete displeasure with the space he’s put between you.

You shake your head, dragging him back on top of you. Your hands find purchase on his lower back, fingers digging into his skin, moving his hips for him. You know you’ll leave marks with how hard you’re gripping. You can’t wait to admire the marks for the days to come, knowing you did that.

“I’ll cum like this,” you tell him. He places a smile to your lips. It’s just the right amount of pressure, of friction. When you pull your knees up, wrapping your legs around him, it’s just right. “Just stay.”

It’s so much for so long that you can’t help yourself. You throw your head back but he follows, hands in your hair moving your head forward again to meet his gaze. “Eyes on me, darling.”

It’s out of your power when you feel yourself tumbling over the edge, gaze remaining on him, just like he asked. You knew he wouldn’t be far behind and you feel him stilling inside of you, bringing his mouth to yours to quiet his gasps against your lips.

And it’s everything you needed from him.

The moments pass and you’re so content to have him stay like that, resting on you, softening inside of you. 

“How’s a bath sound? Need to get ourselves cleaned up,” he says into your neck, but not making any moves to get up. You’re not ready yet.

“Just a little while longer?” you ask — the question not even finished before you swear you feel him rest more of his weight on you, sinking further into the bed, intent to keep fixing it.

Whatever you want. Just like always.

tags:

@concretenoah @circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @ladyveronikawrites @cookiesupplier

@bngurngheart @agravemisstake @iknownothingpeople @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@abiomens @baddestomens @collapsedglasshouses @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

[kicktwine]

aw zoinks I KNEW 5.3 was gonna be mean to ME

[fairy-angel222]

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𐙚⋆.˚

Geto knows exactly what you need when you start to pick fights for no reason. Starting arguments over the smallest things in a fit of build up frustration. He doesn’t shout back, doesn’t even utter a word.

He just smiles.

Pulling you into his chest while you huff and push. His body rocking soothingly from side to side with his chin on your head. “Shh baby, it’s okay. Shh shh shh, i know baby, i know.”

It makes you angry how one sided the argument is. But you can’t help but sink into him as his words calm you down. Allowing him to kiss softly down your neck with an apologetic coo. “Haven’t given my girl the attention she deserves in a while. Left you all needy, hmm?”

You whimper, thighs clenching when he sits on the couch with you on his lap, the steady rising of his broad chest flush against your back.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. Gonna make you feel so much better yeah?”

You breathe out a moan when he gently pries your legs open. His fingers rubbing lightly over your clit through your dampening panties. “Look at that, been craving me so bad haven’t ya?” He sighs, leaving small marks on your skin in the wake of his kisses.

He took his time to slide off your panties, middle finger swirling in your wetness making you whine.

“Patience, i’m getting to it.”

“H-hurry up. Need you.” Your hips thrusting up into his hand desperately, letting out a little mewl when he finally prods at your entrance. “Haah.” Your lips part in a moan when he buries two of them into you, immediately curling them up to hit that spot you needed them to most.

“Faster.” You moan loudly, back arching against him in a cry when he complies. His thrusts becoming mean and hard as the pads of his fingers kiss that spongy spot inside you with no mercy. Your hands grip at his large forearms, mouth falling open in silent screams as his pace quickens even more.

Your stomach tightening and your eyes rolling back. The sweet feeling in your insides gaining intensity as it shot up to your brain, your head getting fuzzy as you shook against him. The world around you going blank with the curl of your toes.

“F-fuckkk.” Your cry came out as a high pitched babble, tears welling in your eyes as you neared your release. Geto holding you tight against him when your legs began to involuntarily shut.

“Nope, greedy girls gotta take it baby. You know ya need it so fucking take it.” His whisper was deep and husky, breath fanning over your ear as his thumb began to rub at your clit. “That’s it, good girl.”

Your noises only got louder as your legs trembled, “Fuck Sugu, ahhh. ‘M gonna— f-fuck ‘m gonna-” you let out a drawn out cry of his name as you let go.

A long clear stream spraying messily in front of you as he pulled away from your sopping hole. Using his palm to messily rub your clit as you continue to drench his thighs. “There ya go… so fucking messy.” He groans, turning your head to kiss you deeply as you shivered one last time, giving in to his lips against yours.

Geto’s hand snakes around your throat, resting delicately on your skin before pulling away. A string of salvia connecting your swollen lips. “Still wanna argue with me? Or should i take you upstairs and make you cum even harder on my cock.”

[aaagustd]

and my man, thank you to my man | jjk

pairing: dealer!jeon jungkook x (f)reader

genre/rating: smut, mature/explicit

warnings: he’s not her sugar daddy but… he pays her bills, fingering, p*ssy eatting, slight Dom/sub undertones, begging, denied orgasms, jungkook is a dealer so there's some stuff about that, hating a** roommate, most of this is a flashback

wc: 757

release date: july 29th, 2023; 10:38 pm est

note: not edited bc i’m kinda trashy tonight lol. this is based on the latto meme/tik tok from her speech. “and my man, thank you to my man” lol. yeah, that one. anyway, another cute relationship drabble from me before i slip into my real writing style. honestly, these are just practice for me lol. div cr.

series m.list | main m.list | ao3 version

“Wow. A new MacBook?”

With an eye roll, you brush off your roommate’s obnoxious teasing. Every time Jungkook buys you something she can’t wait to bring up that you’re fucking your weed man.

“Yup,” is all you reply.

But today she’s just got it out for you.

“Hm, how long were you on your knees for that one?” she smirks.

Instead of getting mad, you take a break from your work and sit back on the couch, gracing her with a mischievous smile. She has no idea how far off she actually is.

-

“You taste better when you’re desperate.”

Jungkook moans his words into your pussy, edging you closer to a long-awaited orgasm.

Your hands fist strands of his wavy hair, hanging on for your dear life as he continues to mercilessly sucks your pulsing clit.

“Fuck. Please let me cum. I can’t—”

Jungkook chuckles as he lifts his head. 

“You can cum, but you know what you have to give me first.”

Your withers and contorts within his hold, his strong arms pinning you down so you can’t run from him.

“Come on, baby. You can do it,” he coaxes.

There’s nothing sweet or innocent in his tone. It’s all driven by the eagerness to break you. Your stubbornness has always been his pet peeve, and he knows that you’re willing to lay here and suffer than give him what he wants.

“This isn’t fair!”

Your cries mean nothing to him as he teases you until you reach your peak, only to let the momentum fade away. Sweat begins to form on your skin, and your body begins to tremble with need. You’re close to giving in, but you still hold on with everything you have.

“Shit, Jungkook! Don’t you get tired?”

“Fucking right,” he scoffs. “Tired of your bullshit.”

You can feel his fingers tracing your slit, indicating your impending defeat. Once they slip into your pussy, he’ll control you like a puppet.

“Fuck,” you sob.

He shushes you, then dips his digits inside of you.

“I know, baby. Just let go. It’ll be alright,” he whispers.

Those words paired with the pads of his fingertips touching your spot leave you mumbling a breathless mess.

No longer caring about your pride — tears rolling down your cheeks — you utter the words he’s been expecting since earlier.

“I’m sorry!” you confess. “I should have told you.”

You can smell the satisfaction emitting from his body when he hears you speak. Only then does he take you to the finish line. Your body is taken over by a wave of hot pleasure, freezing your body where it lies on the messy sheets.

Jungkook praises your submission, and licks your sensitive cunt until there’s not a drop of arousal left over. Kissing his way up your exhausted body, he smiles as he reaches your lips.

“Was that so hard?” he teases.

“Shut up.”

When he lies beside you, you roll over and allow him to wrap his arms around you. He rests his chin on top of your head while he talks to you.

“Why are you scared to ask me for stuff?”

You shrug. “It’s not as easy as you put it.”

“I’m not the kind of guy that fucks you and leaves you to fend for yourself. The sooner you realize that the better, baby.”

“I know. It’s just taking me a while to get used to that,” you express.

“It’s all good. I just gotta do a better job at making you see how serious I am about you.”

-

But he didn’t need to. You understood once he said it. 

You can tell by his approach that it’s not about throwing money around. He does small things like checking your car for anything weird, asking about your day and actually allowing you to vent, and just being there mentally and emotionally; along with physically. 

Nobody is there for you like he is. He doesn’t just come in and fix the problem, he helps you figure it out and if you need help he offers.

He’s been to hell and back with you dealing with your old laptop, and he finally gave up on it yesterday. So no, you didn’t spend a second on your knees for it. But you will be on your knees tonight. 

Your poor miserable roommate will just have to rub her sour pussy to the sound of Jungkook getting his dick swallowed. 

“I’m glad you reminded me about that,” you beam. “He’s coming over tonight. I need to thank him for my gift.”

[catiuskaa]

need you to [Lee] Know.

SUMMARY: minho loves you: to him, it’s as clear as water. Its only after he finds out that you’re starting to doubt it—he needs you to know just how much.

REQUESTED! here by an anonnie. I hope you like it, pookie, ‘cause I had fun doing this! <3

CW: slight hurt/comfort if you squint, but it’s just fluffy fluffy lino being really down bad and not knowing how to grasp it tbh which just gives me my serotonin dosis for the rest of the month lol

WC: 1.2k

A/N: also omfg kats posting two requests on the same day? that’s right baby, look at me go! 🤩🤩🤩

[🔅★🌼★🔅]

Minho was not the type to show his affection.

He comes off more like a shy kitten that slowly gets used to you, your sweet smell and how soft your touch feels, and then slowly opens up.

“But, uh… can I be real with you for a sec?”

It’s a feminine voice with a strong accent. He can hear it comming from your room, and the slight glitchiness of it makes it obvious that it’s a phone call set on speaker.

“Sure.” He can almost see you shrug, but he just closes the main door as soft as he can, pleading for the cats to stay silent for a little bit longer.

Minho can’t exactly place together why he’s overhearing your phone call. He knows who you’re calling, he can recognize Chan’s sister by her tone. But still, he keeps quiet, gently placing his bag down and silently taking his shoes off.

“I just— and don’t get me wrong, but, your boyfriend kinda seems… bored of you.”

What? Minho has to hold back a scoff, remaining as still as a statue next to the front door. He’s waiting for you to deny it.

“You think so?”

And then, he frowns, because you didn’t. Instead, your tone sounded hesitant. Dubious.

As if you weren’t sure if Minho loved you.

“You say he keeps cancelling your plans together. He has stopped making time for you. Like, girl, you can’t remember when was the last time he told you he loved you.”

Hannah pauses, and that only makes it worse, because it lets every word sink in.

“I uh, well. I ain’t gonna say that he should throw flowers at you every single second, but, uh, you know.”

He can only hear you groan loudly, almost picturing that cute motion you usually did when he meaningly teased you, taking your hair and covering your face with it.

“Can’t say anything for sure with him,” Hannah adds. “But, just by what you’re saying…”

Minho’s heart clenches tightly in his chest. He doesn’t want to keep hearing this... this nonsense. God, he loves you. And you… can’t see it? Frowning, he starts walking to your room, but his movements end in a halt, his hand just above the doorknob, threatening to grasp it and fully open the door.

“Girl, it’s gotta be late down there. Sorry this whole call was about me.” Your chuckle comes off slightly dry. “I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay? Go get some good sleep.” Your tone just screams how bad you’re feeling, and it just makes his chest swell with guilt that slowly creeps up his body.

Maybe he had been taking you for granted?

He opens the door as soon as you press the red button, sighing loudly after ending the call. When you see him, you jump in your place, startled by his presence, and you stand up awkwardly.

“Minho!” You say in a squirm. He can’t help but cringe slightly.

“No.” His tone sounds childish, like a petty toddler who didn’t want to eat the carrots in their lunch.

You frown slowly, the slightly wary grimace melting on your face, allowing a soft confusion to step in.

“No what?” You mutter.

He walks to you slowly, and grabs your hand, taking it to his chest, pressing it flat against his clothed skin, over his heart. You can feel his heartbeat, a not-too-slow rhythm: thump, thump, thump.

“Call me by a pet name. Any pet name.” He says, his tone equally firm and soft. “Call me by a pet name and say you love me.”

He’s serious, but god, so fucking nervous. His brain is slowly melting away because he’s so bad with words and he isn’t sure any action could be enough. He’s already blushing.

“I, huh… I love you, jagi.” You mumble, still confused.

And even if you don’t say it as fondly as always, or if your smile isn’t beaming like how it usually did, you can feel his heartbeat quickening.

“You can feel it, right?” His eyes are soft and worried.

Oh, God. You just know you’ve gotta be pouting. It’s hard to react with words, and the only thing you can fathom doing is linking your arms behind his nape and sinking your face on the crook of his neck.

“Min, I’m so sorry.”

“N-no, kitten.” He mumbles, hugging you tightly too. “I am the one who’s sorry.”

He breathes in, drowning in your soft fragrance. Home. It’s you, it’s warm, and he loves it.

He loves you.

So, he says it. He has to say it. He can’t not say it.

“I love you.”

And it feels so good to let it out that he chuckles. He has to say it again. “I love you.” And again. “God, I love you.” Just once more. “I love you so much.” He’s giggling like a fool, but he’s a fool in love, and that makes him blush even more. “I can’t not love you. Not loving you would turn everyday into Mondays. Like, I can get it tattoed if you want me to. I just. I love you so much that ‘I love you’ can’t even—.”

You move from his shoulder, now facing him, and you cradle his face, pulling him in a kiss that’s so sweet that threatens to give both of you type 1 diabetes.

“Y-you’re crying.” Minho mumbles, softly brushing the stray tears away with his thumb.

“It’s your fault, silly.” You sniff, giggling too. “How can you say stuff like that?”

Your heart is beating like crazy, the butterflies in your stomach are multiplying by seconds and in your cheeks glistens a bright and deep shade of pink.

You want to say it too. But in his own way.

So, you take his hand and settle it on your chest. Right above your heart.

It’s a rapid thump thump thump that Minho feels right away. He can’t help but smile widely.

“I super-mega-love you.” He teases, picking you up in between his arms.

You’re laughing, squirming in his hold.

“Lee Minho! Put me down!”

But he just grips your body tighter to his, and walking as if you weighted nothing, heading towards your bed, plopping you down there.

“Good girl.” He snickers, and you blush even further. Minho takes your chin tenderly and pecks your lips. For a moment, certain kind of idea flashes through his head, but he just kissed you again, following his previous thought.

He opens your closet with a toothy grin, and halfly eyes the window before picking up a random shirt, a grey hoodie that used to be his, a dark skirt and your thigh-high socks, going as far as to the suspenders for you.

He then turns to face you, his eyes glowing. He can’t wait to see you all dolled up. Minho feels like a teenager, and he loves it.

“You have twenty minutes.”

You blink at him, and you can’t help but smile, confused.

“I’m taking your cute ass to a date.”

It may not be an instant fix to the struggles to your relationship, but as you two walk down the beach, looking for colourful rocks that match each other’s eye colour, you know that he’s worth fighting for.

Regarding Minho, he happily hums to himself, eyes glued to your figure as you cackle and run in the beach, as you look behind you and giggle at the prints your boots leave in the humid sand.

He smiles, running towards you, tackling you and holding you in his arms.

He’s not letting go anytime soon.

~Kats, who always struggles to choose a picture for the fics because istg lino looks good in every single moment!!

[lizkreates]

Reflection ~A Trigun fan comic~ (Comic Script in the Keep Reading)

Context note: This takes place just after the events of TriMax Vol 10 on Brad’s ship going to December. I’m giving them more time on the trip because Livio grew a full-ass beard between pickup and drop-off (prob because of his healing factor, who knows.) Enjoy!

Vash's coffee is a reference to my first comic Black Coffee & Donuts!

Comic Script for Reflection: A Trigun Fan Comic

PAGE 1

Panel 1: Vash, with his hair down and dressed in his black undersuit, wakes up startled in a cold sweat. He clearly slept poorly bags under his eyes. It’s only been a day or two since he laid Wolfwood to rest.

Panel 2: A full body shot of him stepping out of the bed, his Colt weight down his hip, face obscured.

Panel 3: He leans over the counter in front of a mirror, shoulders hunched, head hanging.

Panel 4: He looks up, hand covering the remaining blonde of his hair so it appears full black. Large pale portraits of Rem and Wolfwood flank Vash on each side in the background.

Vash: Rem, Wolfwood, you both sacrificed everything. Funny isn’t it that I’m beginning to look more like you?

PAGE 2

Panel 1: Vash flashes back to a moment when he and Wolfwood walked side by side in the arid desert of No Man’s Land.

Vash: Wolfwood, you were there every day by my side, now I'm alone again. 

Panel 2: Another flashback to a moment Vash and Wolfwood sat on the edge of a rooftop and looked out over the cityscape to the stars pricking the sky.

Vash: There was so much unsaid between us.

Panel 3: A fresh flashback to the couch, where Vash held Wolfwood's hand in his final moments.

Vash: I wish I had known how to tell you that I loved you before it was too late.

Panel 4: A dramatic crop of half of Vash’s lower face, tears streaming down his cheeks as he cries out.

PAGE 3

Panel 1: Livio, a tall, tan, broad-shoulder, white-haired man with a tribal tattoo over his left eye, dressed in a white shirt and black pants, bursts through the bedroom door concerned.

Livio: Mr. Vash, I heard crying, are you okay?!

Panel 2: Vash looks over, a little comically rattled and surprised

Vash: Livio?

Panel 3: Close-up of Vash’s lower face smiling, a tear rolling down his face.

Vash: I’m alright.

Panel 4: A blank Panel, filled with still air

Vash: Actually.

Panel 5: Big Panel, Vash crying into the crook of his arm.

Vash: I'm not... I miss him. I can’t stop missing him.

PAGE 4

Panel 1: Vash rubs the tears from his eyes, Livio grabs his arm shamefully, his body language clearly showing regret and discomfort.

Livio: I’ll uh, leave you to it, and see myself out.

Vash: It’s okay, I just didn’t want anyone to see me like this.

Panel 2: Close-up of Livio looking down.

Livio: It’s better to let yer feelin’s out than to hide ‘em and let ‘em fester, I should know.

Panel 3: Livio turns to the side and a sad snot stream runs down his nose he was trying to keep in. Livio is very much struggling allowing himself to miss Wolfwood. He doesn’t feel like, he should even though he desperately does.

Sounds effects: sniff

Vash: Now who’s keeping in their feelings? Let it out! He was your friend too, wasn’t he? You deserve to cry too.

Panel 4: Livio smiles sheepishly. He wants to make Wolfwood proud of him first.

Livio: Yeah, I suppose he was, all this time. But I don’t think I’ve earned that right yet.

Panel 5: Livio’s stomach growls LOUDLY. Draw in a chibi style, breaking the tension.

Sound effects: grumble

Panel 6: Drawn in chibi style, Vash waves around his noddle arms and Livio’s mood brightens, grinning with excitement.

Vash: Oh, are you hungry?

Livio: Hell yeah, I am!

Vash: What would you like?

Livio: Uh, pancakes!

Vash: Alright, pancakes it is!

PAGE 5

Panel 1: They sit down and eat at a retro 50s-style diner booth in a small nook of the ship. Livio swirls the last of his pancake in syrup on the plate. Vash cradles a black coffee with both hands looking at Livio.

Vash: Hey, Livio, what do you want to do when this is all over?

Livio: Dunno, maybe wander around for a while or return to the orphanage to help make up for what I and the other guy did.

Panel 2: Livio hangs his head, eyebrows worried.

Livio: If I can be honest with ya, I'm scared to face them.

Panel 3: Zoomed out drawn in chibi style to break the tension. Livio shivers.

Vash: Is that scarier than Elendira?

Sound effects: shivers

Panel 4: They laugh.

Livio: Well, when ya put it like, hell no!

Vash: Haha!

Panel 5: Extreme close-up of Livio’s eyes softening as he remembers back to his time at the orphanage.

Livio: I think he’d like that. They were my first real family.

Panel 6: Vash is hit with a sudden realization, Livio has no one right now. In a misty background, he remembers when Razlo cried out after Wolfwood did in Master Chapel.

Vash (internal): Wolfwood, you left Livio in my care... so we wouldn’t be alone.

Razlo (background): ...I’m all alone again!

PAGE 6

Panel 1: Close-up of Vash with the sincerest smile.

Vash: I hope you know you’re not alone. You have me now.

Panel 2: Livio’s face contorts sorrowfully.

Livio/Razlo (internal): I don’t deserve this.

Livio: Mr. Vash I --

Vash: Wait, before you say anything...

Panel 3: Zoom out so we can see both of them and the table. Vash extends his leg as he digs deep into his pants pocket. Livio leans on the table watching him.

Vash: I know that we don’t know each other well yet, but he trusted you with me and I trusted him, wholly and completely, so…

Panel 4: Extreme close-up, Vash pulls out 2 black leather wristbands with silver latches.

PAGE 7

Panel 1: Vash offers Livio a wristband while holding one for himself in the same hand.

Vash: Here. One for you, one for me. I used a strap from his cross to make it, so part of him will always be with us.

Panel 2: Livio puts the wristband on his left hand.

Livio: Thank you.

Panel 3: Extreme close-up of Livio’s non-tattooed eye, tears pricking his lashes.

Livio: I hope one day I can repay yer kindness.

Panel 4: They fist bump wristbands in view.

Vash: Welcome to the family, Livio.

PAGE 8

Panel 1: A large portrait of Wolfwood with his sunglasses and back turned, fills the background, smiling as he holds his cigarette in his hand.

Livio: Hey, Mr. Vash?

Vash: Mm?

Livio: Would you mind tellin’ me a lil more about him… Wolfwood? Ya see, we were close at the orphanage as kids, but I don’t know who he became. I’ll understand if you don’t want to, you owe me absolutely nothin’.

Panel 2: A close-up of Vash’s coffee, Wolfwood’s staple morning drink, Vash’s reflection smiles back, tears in his eyes.

Vash: I’d love to.

PAGE 9

Panel 1: Bonus! Sometime later.  Drawn in chibi style.

Livio: Can I hug ya?

Vash: Sure, buddy!

Panel 2: They hug, Vash smiles, and Livio whimpers as he lets out the waterworks. He’s thankful for Vash’s kindness.

Panel 3: This sets Vash off, who also sobs. They cry in each other’s arms.

[luveline]

Hi Jade!!! I love, love, love your writing. I was wondering if you could write something for Tsam Peter x reader where reader has a concussion and Peter is just generally super sweet about taking care of them? I have a concussion right now and I feel like he would be so sweet about it. If not feel free to ignore this, love you!!! <3

i love u!! fem!reader, 1k

You’re shivering again. Peter looks up from his book suspiciously, squinting at the curve of your where you’re laying on his couch. He should let you rest —you’re allowed to sleep with a concussion, despite what some might think— but he doesn’t like the shivering. It’s weird. 

“I'm coming, baby,” he says, standing up from the armchair to situate himself by your hips. 

Peter pulls the blankets more firmly to your chin. “Are you cold, bub?” he asks. It might appear that he’s talking to you while you’re still sleeping, but the smile you give when he talks proves otherwise. 

“No,” you force out in a mumble. 

“Are you sure?” 

It takes you some time to think about it. Your body’s been thrown for a loop since you hurt yourself, but you’re healing nicely, and your mental stamina is yards better than it had been. Peter asked you yesterday if you wanted a kiss and you couldn’t answer him for a full minute, and when you did it was an uncoordinated lift of your chin. You’re still in there, still his girl, just mildly incapacitated for the time being. 

“I might be,” you decide. 

Peter grabs a throw from under the coffee table and shakes it out over your arms and shoulders. “There. Need a drink?” 

“Do you?” you ask. 

“What?” 

“You’re asking me lots of questions,” you say, slowly, quietly, but not without character. “I thought I’d ask one back.” 

“I don’t need anything.” He tilts his head to align your faces, leaning in, not quite close enough to kiss you. 

“You look very serious right now, Spider-Man.” 

He glares for show. “So serious.” 

“Sorry I can’t really make you a drink.” 

Peter wipes the glare. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I don’t care that you can’t be my serf right now. When you’re better I’m gonna work you twice as hard, that’s all.” 

You raise a tired hand to his jaw. You’re extra careful to offset your wonky hand, stroking a clumsy but tender line from his ear to his chin. “Can you help me up?” 

Peter doesn’t question you. You’ve been recovering for a few days (he hasn’t realised before your injury that some people can take months to get better after a head injury, even without blood clots or fractures) and he’s not felt the urge to baby you beyond waiting on your every whim and want. If you’d like to sit up, that’s okay. The only thing he’d insist on is getting enough sleep at night, and thats something you’ll do happily. 

“Can I give you a hug?” he asks, his eyebrows pinching up at their starts. “I hate seeing you shiver, it makes me sad.” 

“Makes you sad?”

He squeezes your elbow where the blankets have fallen down. “Is that surprising?” 

You want to trade jokes with him but you can’t summon a retort, and your smile quickly fades. It can’t be nice, feeling a shade of yourself. Peter’s heart aches for you twice. 

“C’mere, pretty girl,” he says, slipping his arms under yours, encouraging you to wrap your own behind his head or let them rest behind his shoulders. He loves hugging you like this, almost lifting you, spider strength begging to be used as you sigh and settle into place against him. You feel a little like a shell of yourself, not quite quick with touches, fingertips twitching against his shoulder blade as he nuzzles his face against yours unabashed. “There you are. Where’d you go, huh? I was about to send out the search party.” 

“I’m right here.” 

“Yeah you are. Lucky me, right? Luckiest guy in the world.” 

You sigh happily beside his ear, your face pitching slowly downward until it’s pressing against the curve of his neck, your arms slipping down his front as you run out of energy. He doesn’t mind, bundling you up with no intention of letting you go. 

“How do you feel?” he asks. 

“Still fuzzy, like… it’s like we’re talking to each other through a screen door.” 

“Do you need something? Or want something? I’ll get you anything.” 

“I’m fine.” 

He lets out a sorry sigh. He wishes you’d want something, god knows he’d love to put a smile on your face. If you were feeling better you might ask him to go and get you something for dinner from across the city, or beg him to find you a bunch of flowers (which he’s always willing to buy). But sick, you ask for nothing. You just lay on the couch and wait to get better. Peter doesn’t think it’s super fair. 

“I’m sorry you’re not better yet,” he murmurs, his lips drifting down to your temple, which he kisses weakly, the barest brush of his lips. “Wish I could take it from you.” 

“I’ll be okay soon.” 

“I know you will, but I still wish I could take it. It’s shitty.” 

You think about this for a while. “It’s not shitty,” you work out finally, hand curling against his waist in a tired display of affection. “I have the… best boyfriend ever looking after me.” 

“I’ll be here until you’re better, you know that.” 

“I know.” 

Peter ushers you back and lifts your blankets, slotting himself next to you with a careful arm held behind your back. You show some surprising excitement at the offering of a cuddle and work under his arm, shuffling down the couch to leave you both laying on the same cushion, blankets uneven but warm over your chests. “You should probably go back to sleep,” he says. 

“Nap with me?” you ask, endearingly hopeful. 

He turns his face, intending on drawing lines into your cheek with the tip of his nose until you either fall asleep or can’t take it anymore. “Sure, baby. I bet you’re exhausted, huh? Let’s sleep.” 

He falls asleep before you, breathing snores into your cheek. You have enough wits about you to laugh, and then you fall asleep, too. 

[hearts4chriss]

𝑺𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉.

𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 + 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

prompt: in which you, nick, matt, chris, madi and nate all go to the hot tub / pool at night and a game of truth or dare allows chris to have you all too himself for 7 minutes.

Part 3

Contains: VERY Suggestive, first kiss, foreshadowing, dirty talk, making out, ass grabbing, hickeys, grinding, nipple play, foreshadowing

a/n- y’all gonna kill me for the last sentence..

Friday 7:52 PM LA California.

Me and Nate were currently getting ready to meet the triplets at their hot tub spot.

As recommended, I Put on the pink swimsuit.

It was kind of a thong but I don’t mind, Chris said wear it in wearing it.

I slipped on my swimsuit wearing an oversized t shirt over it and sliding on my crocs.

We all got to the hot tub and the triplets were already setting up surprisingly on time and they actually brought snacks.

“Chris look ur girlfriends here”. Nick pointed over to me as I was taking off my shirt revealing my swimsuit.

Shit

my eyes wandered her body, seeing how the pink fabric highlighted her figure and how she wore it for me

she looked so good, almost too good. God I shouldn’t be thinking of her like this but I already felt my dick harden just seeing her.

“Chris ur staring”. Matt tapped his shoulder and Chris immediately turns back around to his brothers.

“Oh I know”. I said crossing my arms and she and Nate made their way over to us.

“Hey guysss”. I say giving each boy a hug taking a little extra time with Chris as usual.

“You look so good in that”. He whispers in my ear his voice raspy how I preferred making my swimsuit bottoms feel slightly wet.

I punch his chest playfully going over to grab a Pepsi bending down in the cooler to get one for me and Chris as well.

fuck- there’s no way she’s doing this while Nate is right behind me.

“Chris ur staring so hard”. Madi lets out a soft laugh and Chris shushes her obnoxious making laughter erupt from everyone else

I handed it to him before tying my hair in a ponytail hopping in the hot tub with Nick and Matt, Chris and Nate joining us moments later.

“Sooo, what should we do?”. Nick asks raising his eyebrows at me and I shake my head sighing dramatically.

“Truth or dare?”. I suggest and everyone nods and speaks in agreement.

“Nick, truth or dare?”. I ask him giving him a sly smile and he rolls his eyes

“Dare I’m not a bitch!”. Nick yelled and we all laughed.

“I dare you to…text you know who”. I giggle and everyone’s jaw drops seeing nicks face grow slightly red.

“Y/nnn”. He groans annoyed picking up his phone writing a text.

“This good?” The blonde shows me his text and I nod.

“Perfect”. I hit send and he gasped slapping my shoulder.

“I’m going to kill you!”. Nick shakes his putting his phone down

“I’m sorry!”. I say messing in his hair

A few rounds went by, resulting in some prank calls, some gross foods and more embarrassing things.

However. Nick didn’t get payback yet so it was his turn once again, because he can’t remember shit.

“Oh I have a good one!”. Nick smiles mischievously at me.

“Oh no”. We all say at once.

“I dare…you y/n to be alone with Chris for 7 minutes”. He barely gets out before him and Nick start laughing and Nate’s just confused, but he kinda “gets” it because Chris is his bestfriend.

I roll my eyes and everyone gets out the hot tub and nick whispers to me

“You’re welcome”. He gives me a playful wink and I flip off as they all go somewhere Inside the building away from us.

“The fuck are we supposed to do in 7 minutes..”. I say softly, the tension between me and the boy rising as he turns to me inching in closer.

“Oh I could do a lot in 7 minutes baby”. Chris mumbles a small smirk on his lip before he closes the space between us, his Hand resting on the side of my neck placing his hips on mine.

Electricity shoots up my body, middle school me would’ve had a heart attack, the way Chris’s lips connected with mine made me want to never stop kissing him.

“Can I pull you on my lap pretty?”. He whispered against my lips and I nod as he grabs my hip placing on his lap.

I wrapped my arms around his neck kissing him again, he chuckles as the sudden repetition but soon hummed in satisfaction.

Chris bucked his hips up in mine and I moaned softly feeling the tip of his dick through his shorts.

“fuck- see what you do to me?”. Chris spoke quickly repeating that action as I began to match his movements.

“yeah..if only you felt what you did to me Chris”. I breathe heavily against his lips and his hands grip my ass tightly and I gasp.

“I can feel you pulsating sweetheart, I know what I do to you”. He smirked pressing a kiss to my lips before working downwards to my neck.

“Chris- fuck- isn’t he gonna see?”. I shudder and moan softly as he finds the spot on my neck, he laughs dryly when he hears my reaction.

“Then we can let him see ma, I’ve got 5 1/2 minutes I’m not stopping”. Chris whispered against my neck, his warmth ticking my skin as he continued sucking on the soft skin occasionally grinding up into me

“Fuck Chris-“. I feel my head tilting back on its own as he continues sucking on various spots of my neck making me grind harder against his clothed dick.

“shit ma- I’m gonna cum in my pants if you keep doing that”. Chris mumbles into my neck pulling away at the various dark marks.

Eventually, I pull my swimsuit top down revealing my perky tits to the desperate boy in front of me.

“god your amazing-“. He leaves a kiss to each one before sucking on one swirling his tongue on the nipple making me moan gripping his hair meeting his gaze as he sucks on my tits massaging each one as he switches.

“Oh shit-keep doing t-that-“. I moan pushing his damp hair out his face as he continues to bring pleasure to my body, begging for him

“Fuck 2 minutes Chris-“. I whimper as he continues sucking harshly on my bare breasts grinding his hips up to me hitting my clit perfectly.

“I could finish just watching you like this-“. Chris pants looking at my exposed breasts covered in hickeys.

The dark sky, along with the moon approaching highlights his eyes, the way he looked up at me like I was the only thing that mattered, as if he craved for me right now. As much I have been longing for him.

“Fuck I need you-“. Chris began to undo his shorts before the timer went off and he yelled fuck before quickly pulling up my top and I got off his lap.

I hopped out the tub grabbing two more Pepsis handing him one and one for me as well.

I saw the boys walking back and I turned to Chris admiring his features, especially his now swollen lips.

“Ur lips are swollen holy shit”. I giggle and he rolls his eyes playfully.

“Look whatever- when they come back just don’t say anything no matter what they ask got it?”. Chris spoke calmly and quickly and I nodded.

I scanned the 3 as they waved walking back

“God I wish we had more time”. He sighs resting his head on the side and I nodded in agreement as they made their way back in.

“Sooo what did you guys do?”. Nick asked seeing me and Chris’s wide expressions before realizing that Nathan was indeed here.

“Uh we just- we talked”. I lied and Chris looked me up and down with a smirk shaking his head and I felt my throat tighten and my pussy pulsate as I realized I had literally done the opposite of what he said.

They all nodded and began talking separately and eating some chips letting my mind drift off to what me and Chris just did.

DING

taglist

@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris-deactivated2024040

@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @vicsguitarr @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @kqyslyho3 @imaslut4kehlani @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @sturniololoverr @gamermattsgf @lilyloveschris @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @ineedchriscock @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @luhsexcbihh @nicksmainbitch @rubyjaneaxx @love4chris

[rafecameroninterlude]

can you do like a spin off to the fic you did where rafe went to the strip club, and instead of them making up y/n stands on business and leaves 😭? thank you if you do i love your writing smmm

based off of this request

warnings: angst, cheating

a/n: i heard y’all loud and clear, i hope you guys like this version just as much, if not more <3

“fuck, they don’t make them like this on figure eight.” you watched with watery eyes as rafe’s hands roamed the body of a stranger, his friends hollering in the background. seeing rafe receive a lap dance should’ve been enough for you to click out of instagram and call it quits, but you couldn’t help yourself in watching the rest of kelce’s stories. after skimming through the rest of the photos and videos, you didn’t have any tears left in you to cry.

getting up on shaky legs, you took everything you could fit in a suitcase, ignoring the calls from rafe as you went around your shared bedroom, grabbing your things. just as you were taking your last bag downstairs, the front door opened, revealing the last person you wanted to face right now. “what’s all of this?” your head shot up at the voice, your lips swollen from biting on them so hard. “what’s wrong?” he moved close, making you back away.

“please don’t touch me.” your voice came out weak. rafe scoffed, blinking rapidly as you took a seat on the couch, holding your head in your hands. “what’s wrong with you? why do you have all your shit down here?” he kneeled in front of you, the smell of cheap perfume filling your senses. “you should probably remind your friends to hide me from their story ‘next time you want to let someone put their boobs in your face.” you sniffled, avoiding his gaze.

rafe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he reached for your arm. “baby, please, i can explain everything.” you smiled, shaking your head. “you don’t have to. i really don’t care anymore, i’m leaving.” he narrowed his eyes at you, stumbling over his next words. “w-what the fuck are you talking about?” he grabbed two of your bags, about to take them upstairs before you stopped him. “this isn’t the first time you’ve been unfaithful, rafe, and if i don’t leave right now, it won’t be the last.” your voice cracked.

he shook his head, jogging upstairs, only to see you had cleared everything that belonged to you. rafe’s heart dropped, it looked like you had never been here to begin with. panic settled in his gut. “you can’t leave, i won’t let you.” he came back down, his eyes filled with guilt. “i already have a car on the way.” rafe shouted, punching the air. “y/n, i’m begging you baby, please let’s just go to bed-” you watched him cry, and for the first time you felt nothing. “we’ll forget all about this in the morning, alright? i’ll take you somewhere nice for breakfast, we could spend the day on the druthers the way that you like.” by the way he was talking, it sounded like he was reassuring himself more than you.

“and sweep it under the rug just like the last few times? no.” you laughed bitterly. “you cheat and time and time again i don’t do anything about it. i’m so tired, rafe. ‘tired of hearing the women at the country club call me ‘dumb and clueless’, i’m tired of everyone giving me pitiful looks everytime we walk inside a room.. i’m tired of not being valued.” you looked down at your hand, removing the promise ring that clearly didn’t mean anything.

“hey, hey, come on,” he pulled you up, “i value you, you know i do. i get you everything you want, goddamit, i take care of you!” you flinched at the volume of his voice. “i could get myself whatever i want rafe. all i’ve ever wanted was for you to be faithful, and you can’t even do that.” he watched as you glanced outside. “my ride is here.” he blinked, everything hitting him all at once. “y/n, stop.” he held you in place, not allowing you to move until you shoved him.

“there’s someone out there who is going to love me, and care about my feelings in all situations, someone who isn’t selfish.” you started rolling your suitcase out of the house, rafe following closely behind. “please don’t leave!” he ran his fingers through his hair. he begged and begged until you had the very last bag. “i hope one day you meet someone like yourself, fall in love with them, and see that no matter what you do, it will never be enough.” he watched you get into the black suv, feeling nothing but despair as the car drove away.

[ponderingmoonlight]

(y/n) comforting her husband Gojo after he was forced to kill his best friend

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1k

Synopsis: The man who seems goofy all day, who never takes anything serious breaks down in his wife's arms after he killed his best friend.

Warning: hurt/comfort, death of Suguru, just a lil oneshot from that anon request I received yesterday, like/comment/reblog if you enjoy <3

„Satoru“, you whisper softly into the night, his frame standing in the door of your shared apartment.

You weren’t able to get there on time, to be there for him when he needed you the most. While you were out there fighting curses, Satoru was forced to kill his best friend. Why? Why does he have to endure this never-ending pain, the torture of being the strongest? Wasn’t it enough that he lost his best friend? Why on earth did all of this happen? You can't even imagine how horrible he must feel.

“Oh, hey babe! Hope you’re doing fine!”, he greets you with a wide smile, his blindfold hiding the pain in his bright blue orbs from the world.

You can feel your heart shatter inside your chest. He is never able to be sad, never able to show how he truly feels. Not even when he’s alone with you, his wife, he lets go of his façade. And while you were always able to accept the stinging fact that he’ll never let you see everything, this doesn’t seem to be enough tonight.

“How are you feeling?”

He simply shrugs his shoulders while letting himself drop onto the couch next to you casually.

“Definitely better than the rest. Damn, have you seen how beat up the kids were? Oh, do you remember that one curse who-“

“Satoru”, you interrupt him softly.

Gently, you caress his cheek the way he always loves, watching as the wide grin on his face disappears with every skilled stroke of your hand.

“You know that this wasn’t what I meant.”

He lets out his breath, body suddenly so firm against your touch that he seems to tense every muscle in his body.

“So there’s really no way out of this conversation, huh?”, he mumbles.

The man right in front of you isn’t the Gojo Satoru everyone loves and curses at the same time. No, at the moment he isn’t the strongest, the teacher, the savior.

At the moment he’s just Satoru.

“Come on, take that mask off.”

Gradually, your fingers open the knot of his blindfold. You wait a second, give him the chance to protest against your actions. But when he stays silent, you slide his blindfold off his gorgeous face, revealing the heaviest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“I’m tired, (y/n). I’m so damn tired”, he finally gives in with low voice.

You have to swallow hard, concentrate all your composure on not breaking down and cry. His eyes don’t shine as bright as they usual do, the dark circles showing more than urgently that Satoru is far beyond being exhausted.

“I still don’t get why he did all that shit, why he had to die today”, he continues, resting his head against the couch while plainly staring at the ceiling.

“And that I’m the one who finished him. He’s my best friend, (y/n). The one and only…”

“None of this is your fault-“

“Is it really, though? I should have been more attentive back then, should have been there for him, I-“

“This is not your fault”, you insist.

No, you simply can't allow him to talk about himself like this, to load even more responsibitly on his very own shoulders.

“Who says he wouldn’t have chosen this path even with you by his side? Who says you would have been able to stop him? Suguru was surrounded by friends and horror, had multiple chances to change his mind. He knew that this would happen someday, he was ready to die for this. None of this will ever be your fault, Satoru.”

“And what about all the others? Yuta, Maki, Toge and Panda almost getting killed, Haibara, the countless sorcerers who lost their lives. All these non-jujutsu sorcerers who died because of me. How long will it go on like this? And what if I’ll snap just like Suguru did? I…I can’t do this anymore.”

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes on the brink of overflowing with tears. Never in your life have you seen your husband this vulnerable, brought down by life itself. And the worst is that you can’t help him. No, there are no word that could take away his pain. There are no words to comfort him over his best friends’ death, over the countless other people who died because he’s alive.

“There is nothing I can say to cheer you up”, you finally admit.

Gently, you sit on your knees and bend over him, hands cupping his cheeks.

“But even though you don’t deserve this, even though you feel like you’re worthless I want you to remember that you are loved. Haibara loved you, Suguru loved you until the very end and I do. I will love through no matter what, I’ll stay right here by your side through it all. You don’t have to hide your tears from me, you don’t have to pretend that you’re fine when you’re far away from being fine.”

“I’m not, (y/n). I’m so far away from fine that I feel like I’ll never be happy again”, he mutters with trembling lips.

Just before a tear falls down his cheek you catch it with your finger.

“And it is more than natural to feel this way”, you reply softly.

“Do you think…Do you think he was my friend until the end?”

“Oh, he definitely was. Even though you didn’t have the same opinion, Suguru will always be your friend.”

He gifts you a small smile when another wave of tears haunts him.

“Can you hold me please?”

Your husband doesn’t have to ask twice. You let yourself fall against his chest, caress the back of his head while he swallows you with his arms, presses you firmly against his body while crying his heart out.

“I love you, (y/n). God, I love you so much”, he mutters against your neck, covers you with tiny kisses until you don’t know how to breathe anymore.

“I love you too, babe. Let’s just stay here for a while.”

“Yeah. Staying here sounds good…”

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[daizymax]

wondrous | lmh (m)

summary: pregnancy is strange and uncomfortable and even kind of gross, but your loving husband is always willing to show you just how desirable and wonderful you are.

pairing: lee know x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 5.3k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: profanity; pregnancy; some body insecurities; binary gender talk; graphic sexual content; pregnant sex; dirty talk; lactation kink; creampie

author’s note: rewritten for stray kids and reuploaded from my old blog. hope you enjoy!

( click here to read on AO3 instead )

---

Slamming the car door with more force than necessary is childish, and if your husband were here, he would probably tell you so. Well, maybe not in such blatant terms. First, he would probably ask you to explain what led you to such pissy behavior, and your answer would be that you’re frustrated and out of patience.

You hate that your patience is in such short supply these days. You know you are going to need all of it and then some when the baby comes.

You rest one of your hands on the crest of your bulging stomach and sigh softly. “I’m sorry,” you say to the ever-growing baby within. “I guess you might need to be patient with me, too, if it’s not too much to ask.”

The tears well up unbidden. That happens often lately with your hormones on the fritz. Evidently something as mundane as a shopping trip to the mall is enough to upset you nowadays. Then your mind dwells on how you should be grateful to be in a position to buy the things you want and need whenever you want, and that only makes you sob harder.

You allow the silly little breakdown to run its course, knowing it will be better to sit and let it out now before you drive home.

After a few minutes, you sniffle and wipe your wet cheeks in shame. After a couple more minutes of deep breaths, when you are certain you are stable enough to drive, you start the engine.

The commute home gives you some time to decompress, and the sight of Minho’s car in the driveway lifts your spirits. He told you this morning that he might have to work late this evening — which was fine by you since it translated to having more money for the pending expenses of birthing and raising a child — but having him home is even better.

A loud clang and a muttered curse greet you as you enter the front door. It may not be a polite reaction, but you can’t help but smile at whatever your husband is struggling with in the kitchen. You sling your shopping bags onto the couch and go to rescue him.

Minho is bent over at the waist, rummaging through a bottom cabinet with his backside to you. You take a moment to ogle the fit of his jeans appreciatively before making your presence known.

“Hi honey, need some help?”

He flinches and whirls around. “Heyyy, doll! I didn’t hear you come in.” He hastily combs his fingers through his smooth brown hair as if to compose himself for you.

“That’s because you were busy tearing down the kitchen, from the sound of it,” you laugh.

He does not even dispute your joke. He just groans in frustration and kicks his foot out behind him to close the cabinet. “Where do we keep the rice cooker? I swear I’ve looked everywhere.”

“Did you look here?” You pull open the correct cabinet near your calves and squat down to retrieve it. He rushes to stop you.

“Hey, hey, let me get it.” He comes over and crouches with you only to put his hands on your hips and guide you back up with him. “You shouldn’t exert yourself. I have a bun in that oven, lady.”

You snort loudly. “Don’t I know it. My whole day was an over-exertion, though. I think I can handle stooping over to grab the rice cooker.”

“Oh?” His face becomes concerned, eyebrows wrinkling and pink lips pouting adorably. His hands begin sliding up and down along your sides. “What was wrong with your day?”

“Oh, I’ve just decided I hate shopping for maternity clothes now,” you say, sighing heavily. The statement is so frivolous it makes you cringe, but the rest of your unimportant complaints come flooding out anyway. “They’re all so unflattering, not to mention it’s so uncomfortable trying them on. Getting undressed and redressed is such a pain in the ass. It’s like a whole fucking workout now, I swear to god.”

“Ah, I bet. Poor thing,” Minho says without a trace of condescension to his tone, and you envy his patience. He pulls you in for a hug in his strong arms, and your swollen stomach bumps against his flat one.

Inspired by his understanding, you continue unburdening your rather meaningless worries into his shoulder. “It was so crowded, too. I hate how everyone stares at me all the time just because I’m pregnant. And I especially hate when other parents come up to me and give me advice or tell me stories about their own pregnancies, like I fucking asked.”

Minho laughs and massages his fingertips into the back of your head. “I think they’re just trying to be kind and helpful. They only mean well.”

“Yeah, well, it’s also super annoying.”

“Sorry. What can I do to help?”

You shake your head and step back from him. “Right now I just want to shower and change my clothes. I’m not kidding about that ‘workout.’ I’ve been sweating for hours and I feel disgusting right now. The boob sweat is strong under this sweater right now.”

“Well, we’ve got a towel right here.” He whips the dish towel off the handle of the stove with a flourish and holds it up with a cheeky grin. “Let me help you.”

You laugh. “You want to dry my boobs off with that?”

“It’s clean!”

“Don’t be silly.”

“You’ll be glad for my silliness when our baby comes,” he says, dropping the towel to start tickling you mercilessly.

Your stomach muscles heave with your fit of giggles, and the baby starts kicking to join in on the commotion.

“Ah! No t-tickling, damnit! The b-baby doesn’t like it.”

“No?” Minho stops his playful torment and cups your stomach on either side. It only takes a second for him to feel what you mean. “I think maybe she does.”

“Or he. The baby could be a boy, you know.”

The two of you have decided to keep the gender a surprise until the birth, but that does not stop your husband from speculating.

“Could be,” he says a bit dismissively. He kneels down on the tiled floor so his face is level with your belly-button, which has recently begun to protrude outwards like the rest of you.

He runs his fingers along the surface of your stretched sweater and says quietly, “I just have a hunch that it’s a girl. She’s feisty, like you.” He places a sweet kiss on the top of your belly, then speaks directly to it. “Sorry about the tickling, sweet baby girl. Daddy was just making Mommy laugh to help make her feel better. I have something else that might make her feel better, though.”

“What is it?” you ask.

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

Minho interlocks his fingers with yours and leads you up the stairs — which have become quite the strain on your knees lately — and to the baby’s room.

The moment he pushes open the door, you see exactly what he means. The crib now resembles a crib and not a scattering of wooden pieces strewn around the floor the way they had been for weeks. The inside is lined with blankets and stuffed animals, and the mobile you chose is hanging above it. It could hardly be more picturesque.

With this, the nursery is complete. The painting had been finished a couple months ago, and the other pieces of necessary and decorative furniture have been set in their places for quite some time as well.

“Wow, you actually finished it?” you say. “How did you have time to do that after work today?”

“You were gone for longer than you realize,” he says, chuckling. “I took half the day off to come home and surprise you, but you weren’t here, so I decided to surprise you with this instead.”

“Consider me surprised,” you say with a smile. You squeeze his hand before letting go and walking over to the crib. You give the rail a little shake to test the sturdiness of your husband’s handiwork, and your eyebrows raise in satisfaction at the result.

“I only had to start all over again once,” Minho says proudly, sidling up beside you and gliding a hand along the small of your back to rest on your hip. His thumb traces little circles into it.

“You did a great job,” you say, turning in his hold to wrap your arms around his waist in return, albeit with a bit of difficulty due to your belly getting in the way.

“Glad you like it.” He leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead, then your nose, then down to your chin, then back up to your mouth. You smile and chase after his lips when he pulls away, and he laughs as he kisses you again. “Come on, let’s sit for a bit and get you off your feet. Dinner and a shower can wait a little while longer.” He moves over to the rocking chair in the corner and takes a seat, then pats his lap invitingly.

“Min, I’ll crush you,” you say with a shake of your head.

He shakes his head right back. “Oh, stop it. No you won’t. You’re not that heavy, and I’m not that fragile.”

He starts beckoning you by stretching his arms out and repeatedly opening and closing his hands. The action is irresistibly cute, so you relent. You toe off your shoes and go to sit on his proposed seat. You try not to rest too much weight on him as you sit on his knee, but he ruins your position by taking your hips and dragging you further up his muscular thigh.

“Put your legs up on me,” he says. “If it’s not too uncomfortable for you, I mean.”

You do as he says and turn sideways to hoist your legs over his other thigh. Minho holds onto your knee with one hand and wraps his other arm behind your back to keep you in place.

“There we go. Is this okay?” he asks.

You shift and wiggle until your back is relatively comfortable. “I think so. Are you okay?”

He smiles and squeezes you reassuringly. “I’ve got my beautiful wife on my lap... we’re sitting right where we’ll be rocking our baby when she — or he — is born... I’d say I’m pretty perfect.”

You take his word for it and sigh in content, leaning into him and resting your head in the crook of his neck. He lays his cheek against your head and pushes his feet off the floor to begin gently rocking the chair as it was intended.

For a few moments, the two of you sit and rock in silence until Minho begins humming softly. Something mellow and baritone. The melody is one you recognize, but the lyrics to that particular song elude you. You’ll ask him about it later. Right now, the vibrations from his throat and the steady thrum of his heartbeat are lulling you peacefully. The faint scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body seep comfortably into your skin.

You tilt your face up to kiss his throat appreciatively for the comfort he is providing. He hums out of tune at your gentle touch, and you kiss him there again. This time you take a bit of his flesh into your mouth with a delicate suck, and he hisses in a short breath. His reaction spurs you to do it again, and then again, until the honey skin is left pink from the teasing.

“Mm, that feels really good, babe,” Minho murmurs. The pet name makes your heart flutter a bit; it was used so frequently at the start of your relationship, but over the years it has become a bit more rare. It makes you feel a little sexy, even in your sweaty, bloated, and achy state.

“Yeah? Should I keep going?” you ask. Your lips ghost over his neck, and your fingers begin trailing down the center of his chest.

“Please.” There is a slight rasp to the syllable that makes you feel proud considering you have barely even done anything to him.

Your fingers find the hems of his sweater and white t-shirt and begin tugging at them. “Do you mind if I take these off?”

“Not at all.” He shrugs out of his cardigan then lifts his arms so you can have the honor of pulling up his shirt to toss it aside. The taut muscles in his chest and abdomen twitch as your fingertips graze them. Before you get to the waistband of his jeans, Minho takes your wandering fingers and stops you.

“Wait,” he says. You look at him curiously. “You said you had a rough day. I should take care of you.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Well, I figured I could start by getting you out of your clothes, and then we can see where things lead.”

Sex with your husband has been infrequent over the course of your thirty-week pregnancy so far, but it has occurred. The doctor assured you there are no complication risks involved, even when this far along. Your pregnancy is perfectly healthy, and sex is not harmful to the baby, so you and Minho are free to continue your normal sex life.

The problem is you don’t always feel up for sex. Between your various aches and the increasing challenge of finding a comfortable position, you sometimes have to wonder if an orgasm is really worth the trouble. But it has been a while since your last release, and you trust Minho to be caring and attentive, so you nod in agreement.

He guides you to stand up from his lap, and you allow him to remove your shirt. The sheen of sweat that has been building for the greater part of the afternoon is made even more apparent when the open air meets it.

“Ugh, I still feel gross,” you mutter under your breath. The inkling of sexiness you felt just moments ago is already gone.

“You don’t look gross,” Minho says. He scans you from head to toe before settling his gaze on your chest. “Will you take your bra off for me, please?”

You hesitate a few seconds, then unhook the restrictive garment and shrug out of it to let it drop to the floor. The moment it is gone, Minho reaches out to grasp your hips and slide his hands up along the expanse of your stomach. His warm, tender touch sends a shiver through you, and the baby begins fidgeting again. Your husband must feel it, too, because he smiles up at you brightly.

“God, how did I get so lucky? You are so beautiful.” His tone carries real sincerity. “Especially with your body like this, carrying our child. You’re so fucking… wonderful.”

You automatically let out an unflattering snort of self-consciousness as you think of the new stretch marks striping your breasts, hips, and stomach. You can’t even bring yourself to look at them right now.

“I mean it. It’s true,” he insists. His eyes drop to your bare stomach to look at what you will not. “It’s amazing how you’re able to grow a baby inside of you, just because I came in you.”

There is laughter in your breathy exhale. “Gee, you make it sound so sexy, Min.”

“But it is sexy. You’re growing hands and feet and… eyes inside your womb right now, this very moment.”

You wrinkle your nose. “That doesn’t sound sexy at all. It sounds scientific.”

“Yeah, but it’s also kind of magical, isn’t it? And just think about it: you’ll be able to feed the baby with your body, too…” Minho folds his bottom lip between his teeth for a second as he studies your chest with great interest. “Just look at these perfect tits, getting all swollen with milk for our baby.”

He starts to squeeze, lift, and massage your breasts reverently, completely undeterred by the stickiness coated on the undersides of them from your sweat. A quiet moan rumbles up from your throat.

Even though he is being gentle, the stimulation is still enough to make your nipples begin discharging a thick fluid that is slightly yellow in color. The sight of it kind of embarrasses you, even though it is completely natural. Your doctor explained that it is the “pre milk” before your body begins producing normal breast milk after the birth.

“Min…” you fret with a nervous giggle. You peel his hands away and take a step back from him.

“It’s okay, babe,” he says. He stands up and rearranges your hands so that he is the one holding yours. “It’s just your body, don’t be ashamed. I told you, you’re beautiful. You’re wonderful. You’re amazing.”

He lifts the heavy mounds on your chest again and presses them together as if to get a better view of the wetness seeping from them. He swipes his thumbs over both of your wet nipples, then casually sticks one of his thumbs in his mouth as if he has done this many times before.

“Mm, tastes sweet,” he says.

“Does it?”

“Yeah. Can I… do you think I could...” He trails off in a puff that sounds like he is the one who’s embarrassed. Eventually, he blurts, “I want to try some more.”

“What, you want to actually… drink it?” you ask. The notion surprises you, and you want to make sure you are understanding him correctly.

“I’d like to try, if you’re comfortable with that. I just want to appreciate your body in every way.”

Minho rolls a sensitive pebble between his thumb and forefinger as he waits for your reply.

After another second, you nod your consent, and he flashes you a toothy smile before he latches his mouth directly onto your nipple. The touch of his soft lips coupled with the tip of his tongue makes you gasp in pleasure. Goosebumps break out over your skin as he suckles delicately. You have to admit the sensation of the fluid flowing from your nipple is oddly satisfying, and the wet suction sound Minho is creating is more than a little erotic. Heat starts to pool between your legs to dampen your panties.

“Is this okay?” he asks you again, peering up at your face as he switches to the other tit. When his tongue takes the nipple in between his lips, you notice it is coated with a milky sheen.

“Yeah, it… it actually feels really good,” you confess. Without consciously choosing to do it, your thighs press together to apply some pressure to your clit. Even with your stomach in the way, Minho’s smirk tells you he does not miss the action.

“Are you wet down there between your legs, too?”

“Yes.”

“Dripping?”

“Mm…”

“I want to feel.”

“Be my guest,” you invite. He goes to slip his hand past the waistband of your pants, but you quickly instruct, “Just take them off.”

He does not need to be told twice. He detaches from your breast and yanks your pants down to your ankles. You steady yourself on his shoulders as you pull your feet free.

“Panties, too,” you add, but his fingers are already hooking into them.

Once they are shed, Minho takes his time running his warm hands back up your calves to your inner thighs, spreading your legs just a little wider than hip-width apart. He wastes no more time in dipping the pads of three fingers along your slit. The slickness he finds there has both of you groaning lowly.

“You are wet. Is this all because I sucked a little milk from your tits?”

A slow smile grows across your face. “Maybe.”

“Should I suck some more?”

“I don’t think there’s much in there at a time yet, honestly,” you tell him rather seriously. “Not until after the baby is born.”

He hums in understanding. “That’s okay, babe. I’ll settle for eating your pussy, if that’s alright,” he says, sinking two knuckles inside you.

“J-Jesus, Min. Y-yeah. Please.”

He grins, drawing his fingers back a little just to shove them in forcefully. “Alright. Have a seat for me,” he says. He removes his fingers from you and slides them into his mouth for the taste of something else. He really does adore all parts of you.

The rocking chair tips backwards when you settle into it, which only improves the access Minho has to your pussy. He makes it even easier for himself, however, by kneeling down and hoisting your legs onto each of his shoulders.

“Is this good?” he asks. He brings his head between your thighs and dots soft kisses along one of them.

You scoot your butt to the very edge of the seat. “Yeah, for now. I’ll let you know if it starts to hurt.”

“Please do,” he agrees at once.

He leans forward and parts your sticky folds with two fingers before dragging his tongue from the bottom of your slit to the top in one slow, firm motion. Your breath hitches in your chest when he buries the pink muscle into your wet hole. He licks in a circle from one pulsing wall to the other and back again, then pulls back and licks his lips.

“Do you want my tongue in you and fingers on your clit, or my tongue on your clit and fingers in you?” he asks. He does not normally require such direct instructions, but he has been so concerned with you in your pregnant state. He wants to make sure he is giving you as much pleasure as possible, and he does not want any room for misunderstanding or disappointment.

“Fingers inside, please,” you say.

Minho fits one finger back inside your pussy, soon followed by a second, and your walls squeeze tightly around the digits to welcome and secure them. Then he flattens his tongue to press it back and forth, up and down over your clit. He builds a steady pace that renders your eyes closed and mouth unhinged to let flow a stream of pleasurable sighs and moans. Your pitch heightens considerably when his fingers hit pay dirt on that spot inside you that always makes your toes curl. When you rock against his face to get all the friction you can, the chair moves with you.

“Shit, this is so hot, babe,” your husband groans from below. “Should’ve eaten you out in a rocking chair a long time ago.”

You start to respond but your words pinch into a squeal from a particularly strong tap against your g-spot with his fingertips, and that seems to be all the answer he could want.

Minho becomes greedy for your unfiltered noises and closes his lips around your clit to suck it the way he sucked your nipples just moments earlier. A shiver tumbles down each rung of your spine, all the way to your clenched toes. Your muscles tense to cope with the sheer intensity of the pleasure being administered to that oh-so-sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. His fingers work tirelessly to undo you in tandem with his skillful tongue. The crest of your climax is drawing near so soon.

“Oh my god, Min,” you breathe with hardly any sound. “Fuck, you’ve got me so close already.”

He grunts his acknowledgement. “Is this how you want to come, doll? All over my fingers? All over my tongue?”

It is very tempting, but you still decline. “N-no. I want you inside me.”

“I’m already inside you.” He twists his fingers pointedly. “Can you be more specific?”

“You know what I mean,” you groan.

He has to get in a few more swipes of his tongue before he can say, “Yeah, but I want to hear you say it. You can have everything you want if you ask me.”

“I want your c-cock inside me. Now, please.”

Minho makes no move to cease his actions other than to briefly retract his tongue to speak again. “You sure you don’t want me to just keep going? You’re so close.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure. Please, fuck me already.”

The moan he lets out when he pulls away from you and gets to his feet is positively carnal. He rushes to undo his jeans, then shoves both them and his underwear to the floor in one swoop. You tilt your head to take in the view of his erect cock; the bulbous head is nearly purple from engorgement, and there is a glistening wetness at the slit from a buildup of precum.

“How do you want me?” he asks.

“Let’s try the chair.”

“Do you want to bend over it and I’ll fuck you from behind? Or do you want me to sit down and have you ride me?”

“Sit down and I’ll try riding you.”

You rock yourself up and out of the chair, and Minho takes a firm hold of each of your hands to help tug you to your feet. He kisses you quick and sloppy, giving you a quick taste of your arousal, before switching places with you and taking a seat. His cock points upwards as the perfect target for you to sit on.

You face away from him and straddle his legs to get yourself in position. One of his hands steadies your lowering hips as the other lines his dick up for entry. The tip squeezes into your warm wetness with ease. Minho spreads his legs wider and thrusts up to fit a few more inches of himself. With another shove from him and a bit of wriggling on your part, he bottoms out.

“Fuck, you always feel so fucking good,” he rumbles from behind you. Both of his hands are clenched tightly on your hips now.

You moan in agreement. “So do you.”

Bracing yourself on the arms of the chair, you raise yourself up a couple inches, then sink back down swiftly. Minho plants his feet firmly to keep the chair steady and meet you blow for blow as you start up a rhythm. The two of you grunt and pant with every stroke; the sounds are out of sync, but your movements are not.

The friction feels good, but your looming orgasm from earlier is not quite building again as you had hoped it would. Furthermore, your arms are already beginning to tremble from your efforts.

“Shit,” you swear in frustration. “Maybe this won’t work after all.”

He brings up his earlier suggestion and says, “Want to try bending over?”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s try that.”

His wet dick falls out of you to slap against his stomach when you stand up from his lap. Again, the two of you switch positions so you can lean down and prop your arms along the armrests of the chair. The seat tilts downward as you bend over and press your head against the back of it, and your breasts hang heavy below you. You vaguely notice they have begun to leak again.

Minho steps up behind you and returns his hands to your waist to lift your backside a little higher to expose yourself to him. The head of his cock briefly pokes over your asshole when he guides it into place at your pussy again. With a sigh of satisfaction, he pushes back inside and waits for an extended moment while you to readjust to the tight stretch of his girth.

When you tell him you’re ready, he recreates the rhythm you had started earlier, but at a slightly faster tempo now. Each smack of his tensed thighs against your buttocks makes your breasts bounce — another motion that does not go unnoticed by him.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he breathes. One of his hands reaches over to cup one swinging breast and then the other. His fingers toy at your wet nipples once more. “You’re already such a MILF.”

The term makes you burst into surprised laughter. “Oh my god, please do not call me that,” you say.

“Why not?” Minho laughs back. “It’s true. You’re so. Damn. Sexy.” He emphasizes each word with concise, gasp-inducing thrusts. “And motherhood is only going to enhance that.”

“Ungh, right now I just want to come,” you groan, not interested in continuing a conversation at the moment, no matter how flattering. Your body feels heavy, but the coil in you is getting close to snapping again. “Please, Min... please…”

“Oh, you will, doll. I want you to come just as badly.” He pinches your drippy nipple with one hand, maneuvers the other hand around your waist, under your stomach, between your legs to trap your throbbing clit between two fingers. “Want you to come all over this cock.”

“Keep going and I will,” you promise him.

He speeds his hips up until he is hitting your g-spot with every push. He rubs and plays with your clit just the way you like. The steady whapping sound of skin on skin fills the nursery, along with your breathless encouragements for your husband to keep groping, keep pounding, keep going.

“You’re dripping everywhere for me, aren’t you, baby?” he grunts, his breath hot and ragged. “Got your sticky little clit in one hand, and your tit is leaking in my other.”

He is not wrong. Everything is so wet, so hot, so sticky. You whimper and repeatedly push back against him to further increase the friction.

“So fucking filthy,” he goes on, nearly growling. “Makes me want to bust and fill you up with cum. There’s gonna be so fucking much of it.”

His words, combined with a few more sweeps of his fingers over your clit and stabs of his cockhead against the sweetest part of you, burst you straight through the roof of your climax. With a whiny, broken moan, your pussy clamps him tightly, and it is not more than four of five more strokes before he joins you in sheer bliss. He seizes and grunts deeply as his cum shoots out of his twitching cock to meet the resistance of your already-occupied womb. He was right — there is a lot of it. The viscous white fluid oozes out of you and down along your thighs before the spurts have even finished trickling out of him.

Both pairs of legs between the two of you are shaky as Minho pulls out of your swollen pussy with a slick squelch. He helps straighten your body and pulls you into an adoring hug as you both regain your lost breath. His sweaty chest is nearly as damp as yours as it heaves against your back. You can feel his heart racing.

“You alright, doll?” he checks while dotting sweet kisses along your shoulder. “Was that good?”

“Very good,” you pant with a blissed smile. You turn your head to the side and pucker your mouth for a kiss. Your lower belly is cramping from the intensity of your orgasm, and you massage it absently as Minho’s lips envelop yours. His fingers bump yours as he, too, goes to cradle your stomach.

“How’s our little princess?” he asks next.

“Fine,” you answer. You kiss him deeply and whisper against his mouth: “We’re both just fine, thanks to the daddy.”

---

if you enjoyed, please consider re-blogging and/or leaving me some feedback. take care! ♡

copyright © 2024 by daizymax. all rights reserved. back to masterlist

[daycourtofficial]

Come Back to Bed

Summary: You wake up in the middle of the night needing Eris.

Warnings: smut, literally just smut, cock-warming, degradation, Eris being the hottest man alive

Your footsteps are silent as you patter down the hall, the silence of the Forest House a nice surprise. Between Eris’s brothers and the staff of the house, the place was usually bustling with people and noise.

You slink to Eris’s study, slowly opening the door, trying not to disturb him too much. You walk over to him, draping your arms over his shoulders from behind and whisper, “come to bed.”

Your mate had told you he would have a long night tonight - he had been neglecting some correspondence the past week in favor of time with you, and he didn’t want it to get too bad.

He grabs your hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back of it. “I just need another hour, bunny.”

You sigh into his neck, and walk around the chair, moving his arms so you can sit directly on his lap.

He at least had changed into some loose sleep pants, your mate often choosing formality over comfort. You’re glad he listened to you about being comfortable, however the thinner pants might be a problem for you, considering the reason you came to seek him out.

He sets his quill down, his hands ghosting over the backs of your thighs that your short nightgown doesn’t cover, helping you lower yourself right over him.

You practically moan feeling his cock pressed against you, and he gives you a feline smirk.

“Oh, bunny, is that why you came to find me?” He asks, one of his hands softly grabbing your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking of me?”

Your hips start grinding against him, the only thing separating you two is his thin pants.

The hand on his neck gently glides down your body, caressing your breasts as it moves, and lands on one of your hips, his other hand taking the other hip, holding you in place.

He starts guiding your grinding, forcing you to go faster, as you tell him quietly, “I had a-a dream.”

His smirk grows even larger, his fingers digging deeper into your skin.

“My little bunny can’t have a peaceful night’s rest without my cock, can she?”

He quickly pulls you off his cock, your whine making him chuckle. He rests you on his thigh, barely making contact with it before starting to grind again.

He starts to undo the button on his pants, allowing his cock to spring free of the fabric. You stare at it, the need inside of you becoming so much stronger.

“If you don’t close your mouth, you’re going to start drooling,” he laughs, “maybe I should just leave you to look at it, see if you will drool.”

You whine, picking up the pace on his thigh, his pant leg coated in your arousal.

He grabs your hips again, placing you back on top of him, allowing you to line yourself up with his cock, slowly stretching yourself on him.

You gasp as he fills you up, and you go to start moving again, when you feel a ring of fire around your waist, keeping you in place.

He grabs your face, looking so smug you want to slap him, “aw, did my bunny think it’d be that easy? I still have work to finish. But if she’s good and waits patiently right here, I’ll let her have what she wants.”

You sigh, trying to just move your damn hips, but his fire is keeping you in place.

“Oh and one more thing,” he says, a ring of fire binding each of your hands to his shoulders, “no touching yourself either.”

He sits up a little straighter, making a big deal of pressing his cock further into you, reaching past you and grabbing his quill, picking up where he left off.

You’re not really sure how long it’s been when you hear Eris put the quill down, your head snapping straight up to look into his eyes, full of mischief and enjoyment.

You want to snarl at him.

He picks you up, letting you off of his cock, as he lays you down on the desk, all the letters still covering it.

“Now, for being a good little bunny, I’m going to fuck you right on top of all my correspondence,” his hands start moving up your sides, helping guide you to lay on top of the chaos of his desk. “Maybe your scent will coat the letters, and everyone will know how much of a needy little whore my mate is and they’ll understand the delay in communication.”

You moan at his words. He crawls on top of you, his hands trailing up your legs, his fingers caressing you, feeling how wet and needy you are.

He drags one of his fingers through your folds, your breath hitching in your throat as he brings the finger up to his mouth to taste you.

“Such a needy bunny,” he says, letting his cock drag across your folds, watching you shiver with need.

“Is this what you need?”

You nod your head, but he grabs your jaw, making you look at him, “Use your words.”

“Yes,” you say, keeping your eyes locked onto his.

“Good,” he says, as he slides himself into you again. Instead of staying in place like he had been for the past hour, he sets a quick pace with his thrusts.

He leans down to kiss you, his tongue licking your lips for entry. You let him in, the taste of your own arousal entering your mouth.

The sounds coming from you are utterly sinful, and his sounds are no purer. The fast pace, the sounds, his tongue in your mouth.

It’s too much for you, it’s too much for him, and you feel his warm seed fill you up, causing you to come undone.

You’re panting, trying to remember anything other than Eris, when he pulls himself out of you slowly, and starts inching his hand down to you, collecting all the semen that leaked out of you and was coating your folds.

“What are you doing?” You ask, trying to catch your breath.

“Well if you’re so needy, I want you to have every last drop.”

He plunges the fingers coated in him inside of you, starting with one, then adding a second.

“Maybe if I keep you fuller, it’ll keep you satiated for longer.”

You’re grinding down on his fingers as they work in and out of you. You’re bordering on overstimulation, when he begins biting your neck.

That causes you to come undone again, Eris smirking at you spasming around his fingers.

He kisses you gently as he pulls out his fingers and scoops you up so you’re curled in his lap as he sits back down in his chair, holding you close to him.

“Do you think,” you say, out of breath, “all the ink was dry when you laid me down?”

He laughs, looking at the desk where a few letters are smudged. “Not a chance.”

[sykostyles]

let you love me 1.2.1 (a deleted scene)

wc: 1.8 k

summary: in which Harry gives Y/N everything she deserves after bringing her home from their second date at the record store. can be read as stand alone! part one, two, three

a/n: okay.. I know I said it'd be a while before I did something like this, but I just took the plunge and did it.. I sat down and did it. I'm honestly terrified and plan on panic posting and hiding until tomorrow. A huge thank you to the lovely @cherryjuiceblues for being my beta/proof reader. All of your comments (and reactions) had me kicking my feet like a school girl. You're the sweetest, Sophie! I hope all of you enjoy another first of mine!

cw: smut. so much smut. all other context is in the previous parts above. p in v sex, creampie, oral (f receiving) semi-rough sex, prone bone sex, dirty talk, choking, teeny bit of cum play, (if I missed anything pls let me know!)

“I seem to remember a promise you made about taking me upstairs and giving me everything I deserve. I’m waiting for that promise to be kept, Mr. Styles.”

“Well then, allow me to demonstrate,” he says, flipping you both over so you were under him, eliciting a shriek of laughter from you.

Harry’s hands begin their trek down the expanse of your body; memorizing every curve and dip under his fingers. “How do you want me, baby?” He asks, placing kisses along the curve of your throat.

“Want whatever you’re willing to give me,” you rush out before pulling his lips back to yours.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for, sweetheart,” he grumbles into your ear, sliding one of his hands up to grasp your chin.

“Mm, promise I can take it,” you whimper, a wicked grin spreading across your spit-swollen lips.

“Yeah? Wanna be my good girl, huh?” He asks, repositioning his hand to grip the front of your throat. He notices the spark in your eyes alongside your grin when he squeezes lightly. “oh, god.” He thinks “I’m in trouble.”

“Uhuh uhuh. Please, Harry. Need it," you whine.

“You asked for this, baby.” With that he flips you over onto your front and places a firm smack on your ass making you mewl beneath him. He’s pulling up on your hips to give you a good arch, “Should we check how our girl is feeling back here, baby? Hm?” He teases you from his spot behind you. You whimper in response, but he firmly brings his hand down on your ass again. “Words, baby,” he says, rubbing his hand over your ass cheek.

“Y-yes,” you breathe out, turning your head so your cheek is resting on the pillow. He hooks his pointer fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly peels them down your legs. Your breath hitches at the feeling of the cool air against your bare cunt. 

“Ooh, look how pretty she is, baby. Can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me.” He says, gliding his fingers up and down your slit making you shudder.

“You’re the one w–ho wanted to w–ait,” you remind him, making him smirk.

“Mm, suppose my girl is right,” he says, dipping a finger inside; making you gasp. “Should I give you a reward for being right?”

“Mhm! Please!” Harry smiles at your eagerness.

He adds a second finger before his thumb finds your clit, spelling his name over and over with his ministrations against the bundle. “Ooh, she likes that, love,” he says, placing a kiss on your asscheek. “Can feel you clenching around my fingers already,” He chuckles lowly behind you.

“M-more,” you plead, reaching behind you to grip his wrist.

“Already begging for more?” He teases. “I’ll give you more, don’t worry.” He’s adding a third finger now, speeding up his motions. Your grip on his wrist tightens making him hiss. “Gimme your hands, baby,” he says, stopping his motions, making you whimper at the loss of contact. He grabs both of your hands in a firm grip before pressing them to your lower back. Grabbing your discarded panties, he ties them around your wrists forcing your arms to stay folded against your back; leaving you completely at his mercy. “There we go. Now, where were we?” He smooths his hands over the expanse of your ass, “Oh, that’s right. We were just about here,” He says, placing his fingers back in their respective spots, earning a moan from deep in your throat.

“Harry, please, d-don’t stop,” you say, pushing your hips back to meet the thrusts of his fingers.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love,” he says, “gonna let me have a taste? Can feel you getting close.”

“Mhm mhm, whatever you want. S’close, Harry.” He then dips his head down and swipes his tongue over your bundle of nerves, making you shudder.

“So sweet, baby. Could do this for hours,” the tips of his fingers keep grazing that spongy spot, making your brain go to complete mush. He can feel just how close you are, so he speeds his fingers up even more, “Cum for me, sweet girl. Give it all to me,” he mumbles against your core.

“Oh f–uck, Harry! M’cumming!” You cry out, your entire body tensing. A white hot flash spreads across your vision as you’re taken over with pleasure. Harry continues his movements, working you through every ounce of your orgasm.

“There we go, baby. So good.” Harry praises you as you’re coming down, his tongue cleaning every bit up. “Tastes so good. Such a sweet girl.” He coos as he pulls your legs so you’re laying flat. “You doing alright?” he asks, rubbing his hands up your legs, before stopping at your ass cheeks to rub slow circles..

“Mhm,” you whine, feeling Harry’s fingers spread your cheeks apart.

“You ready for more?” He inquires, not wanting to push you too far.

“Yes please,” you mumble into the pillow.

“So polite, baby. Where’d my little spit fire go? She go hide because I got you all flustered? Hm?”

“Harry, please,” you plead, making him smirk. He stands to pull his boxers off before joining you on the bed again.

“I got you, baby, don’t worry,” He says before crawling up the expanse of your body. He slides one arm under your shoulders, grasping your throat in his hand before pressing his body weight onto you. “Gonna make you feel so good, my girl,” he promises before craning your neck to place a kiss on your parted lips. He reaches down with his other hand, guiding his cock to your entrance, gathering some of your arousal on his tip before slowly pressing inside; making both of you moan in unison at the sensation. “Oh–hah, f-fuck. So tight, baby,” he growls in your ear, inching his way inside. He’s turning your brain to mush once again without even trying.

“J-jesus, Harry. S-so big.” You whine. “C-can’t take it.”

“Oh, I know you can, pretty girl,” He coos in your ear. “And you will,” he says, pushing in to the hilt. The sound he pulls from your throat makes him feel a sense of pride. “See? There we go,” he says, pressing a firm squeeze against your throat. “Knew you could do it.”

You whimper in response. “H-harry.” 

“Yes, sweet girl?” He internally groans at the feeling of you clenching down on him..

“M-move, please.” 

“Anything for you, love,” he’s sliding his hips back far enough to leave his tip inside, to then slam back into you repeatedly, turning you into a moaning mess beneath him. “Yeah, baby? That feel good?” He asks. He’s doing everything in his power to not finish too early; the feeling of your thighs alongside the feeling of your plush, warm walls has his head spinning far earlier than anticipated. But he can tell you’re not far behind. Seems his girl likes it a little rougher. He’d be sure to remember to have a more in depth conversation with you regarding harder limits later.

“M’close, Harry. S’close!” You rush out. You’re in complete heaven. The constant rush of the tip of his cock grazing your g spot, and the ridges of every vein against your walls have your head rushing and your arousal pooling in your gut.

“M’too, pretty. So close,” Harry says as he reaches down with his other hand and lifts your hip enough to connect his fingers to your clit one more time, rubbing in tight circles. His other hand still having a firm grip on your throat. “Cum.” He commands, feeling the band snap within you.

“OH, F–UCK,” you start to unravel. Harry squeezes the sides of your throat just a little tighter to really tip you over the edge. His speed doesn’t falter, however. He’s determined to milk every ounce of your orgasm out of you.

“Yeah, baby, there we go. Such a good girl,” He praises, releasing his grip on your neck to push himself up. He takes hold of your bound hands, pulling them towards him and giving your back that perfect arch. “G’na cum, baby,” he warns, “Where d’ya want me?”

“I-inside, please, Harry. Cum for me, please!” You beg, making him groan.

“Oh, f–fuck,” his hips stutter at your plea. Of course he obliges. White hot ropes are filling you to the brim. “Just like that, baby– shit,” he groans, continuing to roll his hips into you. “Gonna milk me dry.”

“'So good, Harry,” you mumble into the pillow. 

His hips slowly come to a halt against your ass, and he reaches up to undo the knot keeping your wrists together. Your arms fall to your sides as he lays his weight on top of you again, pressing kisses along the curve of your shoulder. “Did so well for me, baby,” He whispers against your skin. You turn your head to capture a glimpse of his face and he’s smiling.

“You’re so pretty.” You say, reaching your hand up to cradle the side of his face.

“Am I?” He asks, placing a kiss to your nose.

“Mhm. Promise.” You smile at him. “Kiss?” 

“Like you have to ask.” He says leaning down to you, capturing your lips with his. He takes hold of your wrist, noticing the red marks from your underwear. “Sorry, love.’ He coos, before pressing his lips softly to the marks.

“S’okay. Felt good.” You affirm. “You’re still hard.” You say wiggling your hips against him, making yourself whimper at the feeling of his cock grinding inside you at your movements.

“Mm, noticed that, did you?” He teases.

“Kind of hard to miss.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Hey now, where’d my good girl go, hm?” He inquires, swatting his hand against your ass making you squeal. “Who’s this brat?” He quickly pulls himself out of you, making you hiss at the sudden empty feeling. Taking hold of your hips, he flips you over once more beneath him. “Hi, baby,” he says once you’re face to face.

“Hi, stranger,” you whisper, smiling up at him and sliding your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.

“Where’d that attitude go?” He teases, rubbing his cock up and down your slit, catching all of your mixed arousal on his tip, and making your breath hitch when his tip would catch in your entrance.

“D-don’t worry, she’s s-still here,” you whimper against his lips, making him smile.

“Good,” he starts, placing a heated kiss to your lips. “Guess I gotta keep going then,” he says, pushing his cock back inside, fucking his cum from before right back into you and making you gasp. “Good thing though–” He continues, gripping behind your knees to bring your legs against your chest, making his cock push into that spot over and over “--Because I want to watch your pretty face the next time you fall apart on my cock.”

I'll be hiding for the next week now 🫣

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed! <3

taglist: @stylesfever @olipoli21 @hermionelove @st-ev-ie @mrs-anna-styles211994 @hannah9921 @velvetballaspark

[percervall]

your body is my party

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader Words: 655 Request: Carlos Sainz + Ciara - Body Party + smut Warnings: flirting, dirty talk, semi-public sex, fingering

In which Carlos should put his phone down

---

The base of the reggaeton song playing is so loud, you can feel it reverberating in your chest. Had you been sober, you would probably be worried about permanent damage to your hearing, but right now you are one vodka and coke too many away from caring. The only thing on the forefront of your mind is moving your body to the beat of the music and figuring out where your boyfriend has gone. You would swear he was right next to you one second ago. Taking another pull from your drink, you scan the crowd of swaying, sweaty bodies until you spot him sitting at the booth, eyes glued to his phone, beer discarded on the table beside him. Shaking your head, you make your way over.

“Those emails will still be there in the morning,” you shout over the music, fingers sliding up the side of his phone for the lock button. Carlos looks up at you, his dark features turning amused when he sees you grinning at him.

“Lo siento, amor,” he replies, allowing you to pull him up. Giving him a quick kiss, you turn around, his arm over your shoulder and his front pressed to your back as you rejoin the rest of your friends on the dance floor. The tempo changes to a slower song and you can’t help but grind back against him, your hips moving on their own accord. You can feel him smile against your shoulder as one of his hands comes to rest on your hip while the other finds its way higher, right underneath the edge of your crop top. Your breath catches in your throat at his touch, his fingers tightening their hold on your hip. Tilting your head, you grant him better access to your neck, his lips busy marking you –making sure everyone will know you’re his. Reaching a hand back, you take hold of his left asscheek, pulling him even closer to you as you grind against him. 

“We’re in public, amor, you need to behave,” Carlos murmurs in your ear followed by a chuckle that has you throbbing. You can feel the hard outline of his cock against your low back as he keeps swaying you in time with the music. Suddenly you wish you were anywhere else but here, a need to feel him where you’re aching for him taking over. You turn in his arms, smiling sweetly as you run your fingers through his hair before tugging ever so slightly.

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that baby?” 

Carlos can’t help but laugh at that, licking his bottom lip. 

“Dime, princessa, do you want me to bend you over the vanity in the bathroom? Or find a dark corner somewhere?” His fingers dip under the hem of your skirt, trailing up the inside of your thigh. It’s impossible to reply to him when you have him so close to where you need him most. 

Luckily Carlos decides for you, dragging you into the bathroom of the VIP lounge and locking the door behind you. The silence is deafening now you’re no longer all-consumed by the club music, but that is the last coherent thought you have before Carlos is on you like a man starved. Before you truly comprehend what is happening, Carlos has manoeuvred your body in such a way you’re bent over the vanity, ass in the air, skirt flipped up. You try to brace yourself as he pulls your lace thong to the side, sliding a finger into you.

“So wet already, amor,” he chides you, slowly moving in and out of you. Not being able to stop yourself, you whimper and grind back against his finger.

“Please,” you whisper, eyes locking with his’ in the mirror. He looks positively dishevelled; hair a mess, shirt unbuttoned three buttons more than even acceptable to European standards, and all you want is for him to ruin you.

I had so much fun writing this! As soon as I listened to the song, I had this visual and wrote this in one sitting. Hope it was worth waiting for Jojo!

Please let me know what you think, your comments, tags, and likes mean the absolute world to me 💜

[muniimyg]

2.5: stfu 》 series m.list

note: my friends 🤭 how are we? this ch is jus fluff & rlly jus out here to give insight w their dynamic as friends !!! hope u enj 💛

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main

fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @ellesalazar @bloopkook

//

Jungkook is a dick. 

Okay, he isn’t exactly a sly bitch-ass motherfucker… He’s just a little miscommunicative, a little forgetful, and a little annoying sometimes… Let’s just say he’s lucky he’s hot. 

“I thought you wanted to make out,” you half-heartedly complain as he finally notices you for the first time tonight. He chuckles before settling beside you. Your body itches for him to be closer. Instead, he keeps a friendly seating distance. “How did we end up here?”

Let’s set the scene.

You two are in a karaoke room with your friends. The boys are belting out their sad love songs while your best friend, Yuna, continues to down as many drinks as possible. Currently, she’s celebrating being ghosted, and this karaoke session was actually her doing. 

Yuna has been your friend since the beginning of time. With that being said: you two are complete opposites. She likes surprises and showing up… You like planning and ditching. She has her fair share of passionate flings and you have your fair share of boring boyfriends. It’s truly a work of balance between you two. Regardless, you love her with your entire heart and can’t wait for her to meet better men. On the other hand, Yuna holds a flaw that sickens you to your very core. Since the first day Taehyung introduced you and her to Jungkook, she has not shut up about how cute of a couple you two would make.

Aside from that, Yuna is chill. Your friendship with her is completely low maintenance. It’s hard to feel offended when you’ve always known she’s been closer to Taehyung. They’re the best of friends. Naturally, she texted Taehyung the ground-breaking news and he quickly got to work. He called all the boys up and then they all headed to Jungkook’s. Unfortunately, they beat you there and Jungkook didn’t have enough time to text you a warning. As you stood outside his door, you quickly caught on and pretended like Jungkook had communicated the plans with you. 

To be honest, it’s not like you needed Jungkook tonight. If anything, it was him who wanted to see you so bad… But you can’t help but feel irritated that the night turned out like this. 

It feels a little weird. 

You know you can touch him. That’s allowed, right? You two are friends and harmless physical affection is okay! It’s like, you know you reach over and touch his hand; he would hold it. You know he would.. So why isn’t he? 

It’s too early for you to swallow your pride.. However, that doesn’t stop you from having needs.

He should make the first move.

“I mean,” he takes a quick sip of his drink, “I’m a little shy… Oh! Idea… How about you kiss me first and I promise to kiss you back.”

You glare at him, shoulders dropping at his answer. Like always, he’s being a piece of shit. Swiftly, you take the drink from his hand and chug the rest of it down. When you finish, you hand him the empty glass and as you’re about to say something—he reaches over and wipes the top of your lip. 

You sit still and take in this moment. He’s slightly leaning in and his eyes are on your lips. Surely, he’ll fold, right? You want him to. 

When he pulls away, he puts his glass down. “I’m right here. You gonna do it or not?”

“We’re literally at a fucking karaoke room with our friends, Jungkook.”

“So?”

“I’m not exposing myself this early on!” you whisper-shout. 

He snickers. “And just how long is this supposed to last? Are we gonna be a secret forever?”

You shrug, having no answer for him. “This is stupid. You’re the one who asked—begged—me to come over and make out with you. You said you wanted to kiss my lips and my—”

“I know what I said,” Jungkook chides. “I meant what I said. Nothing changed.”

You poke his chest and repeat yourself. “We’re in a karaoke room with our fucking friends.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I had no choice! Blame Yuna!”

You gasp. “I would never!”

His shoulders slump, feeling defeated. “___, what do you want me to do? Fuck you in the bathroom—”

Your eyes widen at his blunt words. Quickly, you cover his mouth with your hand. He licks it in response and you groan in disgust. “You’re disgusting!”

“Pay back for spitting back at me the other night.”

Your eyes dart at him. He laughs and puts his hands up in defeat. “Relax. They aren’t listening to us.”

As you wipe your wet hand on his shirt, you take his word for it. Then, you move away from him and cross your arms in frustration. Jungkook playfully inches closer, murmuring apologies. You shake your head, pout, and turn the other way. 

Jungkook feels stuck. 

Was he really in the wrong? Did he go too far? Did anyone even hear? You’re just so uptight sometimes… It wouldn’t hurt to laugh, right?

That’s exactly what he figures to do.

Jungkook calls over the mic and stands up to sing. Everyone calms down and gives him their undivided attention.

“Uh,” Jungkook begins, “This is for Yuna!”

“No thanks!” Yuna rejects, raising a shot at him. She drinks it in one go and giggles. Jungkook winks, turning his attention to you. You cover your eyes with your hands and ignore the rest of the boys' cheers. 

“If I were your boyfriend, I’d never let you go. I can take you places you ain’t never been before. Baby take a chance or you’ll never know. I got money in my hands that I’d really like to blow… Swag, swag, swag on you,” Jungkook sings cheekily. He takes his time, doing body rolls, and makes his performance much more dramatic with the help of Jimin and Nam Joon. 

Suddenly, the boys all join in.

They turn Jungkook’s special number into the performance of the night. They hype each other up and even create a choreo. Towards the end, Jungkook kneels in front of you and serenades the last few lyrics; “if I was your boyfriend, never let you go. Keep you in arm girl, you’d never be alone. If I was your boyfriend, I can be a gentleman, anything you want… If I was your boyfriend, I’d never let you go. I’d never let you go. So give me a chance, 'cause you're all I need girl. Spend a week with your boy I'll be calling you my girlfriend. If I was your man, I'd never leave you girl… I just want to love you, and treat you right.”

When the song comes to a complete end, the sound of the guy's laughter fills the room. Jungkook stays on his knees, making a pouty face. 

“Still mad?”

You give him a cold shoulder. “Dunno.”

Jungkook laughs, catching himself as he begins to lean in. Yuna awkwardly clears her throat. You shoot her a glare and she sticks her tongue out at you two.

“Jungkook…” she warns. “You’re not allowed to have ___!” 

He snickers at her. “Fine with me! I don’t want her.”

Yuna waves her finger at Jungkook, lowering her gaze at him. She isn’t convinced with his words. “Listen you motherfucker… You touch her and I’ll ruin your life.” 

Jungkook laughs coyly before turning to you. He wrinkles his nose and shrugs, “guess this is the beginning of my end.”

“Guess it is,” you purse your lips. “Too bad.”

“Too bad?” Jungkook scoffs, “if you’re my end; then so be it. Nothing more beautiful than you.”

You make a sour face at him before throwing the karaoke book his way. He dodges it and sticks his middle finger out at you. Then, he returns to his boys and joins them in song. From the corner of your eye, you see Yuna giving you a look. She mouths out, “anything to confess?”

You shake your head and roll your eyes at her.

Confess? What is there to confess? Nothing. 

Absolutely nothing. 

By the grace of God, Taehyung was able to get Yuna to stop drinking. However, by the time Taehyung suggested to do so… She was no longer able to walk on her own. The karaoke session ends and everyone is either tipsy or helping Taehyung take care of Yuna. 

“Should I walk you home?”

You sit up and take your phone out. Swiping it open, you don’t bother to look at him when you answer. “I can Uber.”

Jungkook then snatches your phone and holds it above his head. There’s a lazy smirk on his face you want to slap off. “You’re not Ubering home alone and tipsy.”

“Walking home with you isn’t any better.”

In all honesty, Jungkook is tipsy too. He chugged a few beers last minute and took Yuna’s remaining shots. Yet, it’s clear that he’s sober enough to take care of himself. One thing you’ve only recently started to notice about Jungkook is that he’s a grumpy, sad, and needy drunk. Maybe the grumpy part is more prominent in the tipsy portion.

He offers a sarcastic laugh before frowning. “Shut the fuck up and get your shit. Let’s go. I’m tired.”

“Then go home—”

“Don’t be difficult,” he begs. “Just let me do this.”

The walk home is rather quiet. 

Aside from Jungkook’s lame attempts to ask you about your classes and work schedule, there’s not much to talk about. You answer him politely, feeling a little relieved that his little attitude is melting away. Slowly but surely, he was sobering up. 

To keep the conversation going, you ask him about the boys and what it’s like now that he moved out with Taehyung and Jimin. He answers truthfully, stating that the living situation is neater than he expected and that he misses the dynamic with everyone around during late nights. Sure the two boys kept him company and the aspect of privacy was nice, but he can’t help but miss the chaos. 

As he speaks and as you walk side by side with him—it still feels weird. It’s that same weird feeling you felt in the karaoke room. 

Your fingertips have brushed against each other for the nth time tonight. Was it the drinks you downed or are you actually feeling a little annoyed he didn’t even try to hold your hand tonight? And how did we get here? 

It’s your front door. 

… Is this it? Is it really just goodnight and go?

“Do you think Taehyung is secretly in love with Yuna?” Jungkook blurts with a cheeky grin on his face. “He’s all she talks about and vice versa. She always comes over and they just sit and talk and laugh like they’re the only two people in the world.”

You pause and think about it. “They’ve always been close.”

“Not like this,” he advocates. “They’re… Happier?”

“She’s still hung up on that guy that ghosted her… Maybe good company is just good company, you know? It doesn’t always have to mean or lead to a new love interest.” 

Jungkook tilts his head. “Is that how you feel too?”

“What do you mean?”

He bites his tongue. “Never mind.”

“... Okay?” you respond awkwardly. You turn away and dig through your bag for your key. “Thanks for walking me home, I guess? Goodnight.”

Jungkook sighs loudly. “Can you at least look at me and pretend like you care if I get home safe or not?”

“But I’d be lying!” you laugh, finally finding your keys. You stick it in and turn the nob. Suddenly, you feel his hand grab your wrist. With one tug, your body turns to face him. He smiles sweetly as you frown at him. 

“Dream of me,” he teases, taking a step closer to you. Closing in the space between, he dips his head low and lowers his gaze to your lips. 

“That’s just mean,” you whine. “Why would you want me to have nightmares?”

He glares at you. “Ha. Ha. Not funny.”

“It was pretty funny.”

Jungkook huffs, “no, it hurt my feelings actually.”

“Not my problem,” you snark back.

“You’re always my problem.”

“You’re annoying as fuck—”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook stresses. “Just let me kiss you goodnight, woman!”

Before you can answer, he crashes his lips against yours and kisses you. He does it deeply like he’s been waiting to kiss you all night. When you pull away for a breath, he continues to give you little kisses. You laugh and playfully push his face away from yours. 

He pouts and demands, “kiss me lots, ___.”

You can’t even deny him. In this very moment, he is the most precious thing in the world. You let him kiss you once more before squishing his cheeks together. You give him a peck before saying goodnight for the last time. 

“Get home safe, pookie.”

“Arghh,” Jungkook curls his hand into a fist and hits the left side of his chest. “I knew you’d care.”

He wishes to never forget the way his heart flutter at this very moment… And as much as you hate to admit it—your heart flutters too.

[kyunzin]

𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

pairing; puppy!kiri x gn!Reader

cw; thigh riding, grinding, use of good boy and baby (to kirishima)

a/n; this has been in my drafts for ages, do tell me if you think I should add any more cw

puppy!kiri who felt lonely and went on a search to find you in your shared apartment.

puppy!kiri who finds you in the living room sitting under the kotatsu with work spread out in front of you.

puppy!kiri who sits himself down next to you laying his head to rest in the crook of your neck nuzzling into you. you know the position is uncomfortable for him but allow him to stay.

puppy!kiri who when you let out a quizzical hum responds with a whispered “missed you”.

puppy!kiri who after a few minutes of staying by your side starts to fidget and begins to play with the hem of his your oversized shirt.

puppy!kiri who when you ask “whats wrong baby?” answers with “nothing” but continues his actions anyway.

puppy!kiri who slips his hands under your shirt and starts caressing your side.

puppy!kiri who when you tell to stop lets out a defeated sigh but perks up when you tell him to “sit in my lap”.

puppy!kiri who jumps up and turns over to straddle your thighs wrapping his arms around you.

puppy!kiri who leaves a few light kisses to your neck and presses a chaste kiss to your lips then rests his head on your shoulder.

puppy!kiri who after a few minutes can’t help but softly rut against your leg while letting out quiet whimpers at the minimal friction he’s getting.

puppy!kiri who when you tell to “stop, you’re distracting me” and “wait” lets out a high pitched whine but listens and still his hips earning a “good boy” from you.

puppy!kiri who can’t help it begins to move again and earns a swat to his ass and a “stop otherwise I’ll have to punish you”.

puppy!kiri who at the threat of punishment stills instantly and wills his erection to go down.

puppy!kiri who does everything he can to not rub himself against you counting sheep, pinching his arm, taking deep laboured breaths.

puppy!kiri who is rewarded when you finally push your work back rubbing at his side whispering words of “good boy” and “I knew you could do it”.

puppy!kiri who shivers and leans into you as you praise him and trail kisses down his neck.

puppy!kiri who begs chanting “please” over and over again signs of tears welling in his eyes, sounding so desperate you don’t have it in you to deny him.

puppy!kiri who when you say “you can carry on baby, I won’t stop you now” sets a rough pace grinding and pressing himself up against you and rests his head on your shoulder.

puppy!kiri who sucks bruises into your skin muffling his moans while increasing in speed chasing his release.

puppy!kiri who finally breaks and lets out a high pitch moan when you whisper “c’mon baby, give it to me” and “be a good boy and let go for me” because he’s your good boy and will always give you what you want.

puppy!kiri who practically melts into you as you rub at his sides telling him he’s “such a good boy for me” and that “I love you so much” for him to slur out “love you” back.

puppy!kiri who when you make motions to move asks if you want him to do something in return but is refused as you say “as long as you’re satisfied so am i baby, but thanks for the offer”.

puppy!kiri who drapes himself over you as you drag him to the bathroom to get “washed up” and “ready for bed”.

puppy!kiri who is like putty in your hands as you strip him of his soiled pants and shirt placing him in the bath to wipe him down.

puppy!kiri who almost falls asleep in the tub as he feels your hands roam his toned body with care but is warned not to as it would take a lot of effort for you to lift his weight by yourself.

puppy!kiri who once dry and fully clothed pulls you down into bed with him and wraps his firm arms around you tucking his head under yours.

puppy!kiri who falls asleep instantly within the security of your loving arms with you not to long following after.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭