#it really is just a matter of what you are to him

[rosy-hollow]

Thinking about Number 2 Pro Hero Dynamight whose pretty wife is not only a Pro Hero but the Number 4 as well - the only thing stopping her from getting higher is because she simply didn't feel like it.

You're extremely powerful, but you also knew how taxing it was to be in the top three ranks of hero society, what with the extra publicity and pressure, instead settling for number four because it was the best position, in your opinion.

Though, the public doesn't really know your reasoning for staying at your rank, and though you remain an inspiration for men and women alike across all of Japan and even spreading to other countries, that didn't stop certain people from underestimating you.

It was a random Tuesday.

You were exhausted.

Tired to your bones.

Katsuki was out on a mission, and you knew there would definitely be some paparazzi - and though he would be back later today, you missed his warmth and comfort.

So, you turned on the TV, surfing through various channels before your blonde husband came into view on the screen.

The reporter there had a wide smile plastered on his face, so stretched it almost looked fake.

You sighed. This should be good.

The man had slicked brown hair and a pointed nose, waving his microphone into the disgruntled blonde's face, the latter's nose crinkling slightly in discomfort.

You, on the couch can't help but mimic the blonde's expression instinctively, having been together so long that you felt his slight irritation through the screen.

"So, Pro Hero Dynamight! Everyone knows you're married to the Number Four Pro hero, your wedding had been all over the news!" he chuckles - though to you it personally sounded like sputtering car engine.

You blink - that's definitely not what you were expecting the reporter to ask.

Katsuki raises an eyebrow on the screen, not saying anything but suspicious as to where this conversation is going.

"However...your wife has been maintaining that spot for a while now...many people can say that they haven't noticed any progress in her career! What do you say about this?"

You look at the screen in disbelief, not so much offended, instead just shocked at the pure audacity of the man.

Katsuki, however, being the angel he is, took offense on your behalf.

You watch his Adam's apple bob as his eyebrow twitches, getting a glimpse of that pure anger that seemed to be ever present during his teenage years.

But he doesn't lash out, years of maturing and your love let him reign him emotions in, no matter how violently they were swirling in his chest.

Instead, he barks out a laugh, dark and menacing - enough to make the reporter visibly squeak in fear. Even you felt your eyes widen slightly at the change in demeanor.

Katsuki glances and the camera and scoffs, leaning in close to the reporter to whisper in his ear, enough for the microphone to pick up.

"My wife could single handedly wipe out every villain in Japan in she wanted to. Only reason why she hasn't is because she's sweet enough to give the rest of us sorry asses a chance."

You're pretty sure your whole body is red by the time the channel switches to some random toothpaste ad.

A/N: yayayayay katsuki loves his badass wife

[gojoest]

a shape that could be ours — gojo satoru

synopsis: newlyweds are always asked the same question: “when will the babies come?” sometimes, the questions are harmless. other times, they get under your skin. you start to think and you start to imagine. maybe you tuck a pillow under your shirt one time, just to see. and maybe… your husband, gojo satoru, sees it too.

warnings: f!reader (she/her), established relationship (you are newly married), pregnancy/baby talk, pet names (pretty, baby), domestic fluff, not proofread, wc: 2.6k, dividers by @/cursed-carmine

“what? don’t you want a baby with me?” satoru asks as he sets the plates down on the counter and walks over to you. his voice is low and teasing. but not teasing in the usual carefree way; there’s something softer threaded through it, something almost serious. like it isn’t really a question he’s asking at all, but a quiet hope. a request. one he’s afraid to say out loud too often.

you blink up at him, unsure whether to be flustered or frustrated.

dinner had just ended. it was the first time you invited family over since the wedding. a small gathering, really, that still somehow managed to feel like a full-blown event. everything had to be perfect. you spent the whole day cleaning, organizing, cooking. and not just because you’re a perfectionist, but because…

…his clan is, well, intense.

polished and traditional in all the wrong ways where every smile hides a critique, every compliment is laced with a condition. you knew it wouldn’t be easy to deal with them tonight but it mattered to you for the dinner to go well.

and in many ways, it did. except for that constant baby talk. family pressure.

“so, when are we going to hear the pitter-patter of little feet?”

“you two are married now. it’s about time, don’t you think?”

“i give it three months.”

‘three months? i’m hoping to get good news by the end of this month. the gojo blood is impatient.”

the laughter at the table was warm and lighthearted on the surface. but all of it made you want to disappear into your bowl of rice. every eye was on you and satoru — some amused, others expectant. as if you two were a machine that could be activated at any moment to start producing the next generation.

throughout the entire dinner you could barely take a sip of your drink without actually chocking on it.

meanwhile, satoru was just grinning like the menace he is — relaxed, smug and completely unfazed as always.

“we’ve been practicing”, he said brightly, “when the time comes, you will all know. it will show”, while caressing your belly shamelessly.

you nearly dropped your chopsticks. that idiot.

no matter how many times you jabbed his elbow, perhaps at times hard enough to leave a bruise, he kept chuckling, leaning over to kiss your temple like the world’s most supportive husband, and carried on with his antics. entertaining everyone with far too much confidence and far too many innuendos. not embarrassed at all, not for a second trying to avoid the topic when it was brought up. in fact, he kept leaning into it. perhaps because he enjoyed the idea a little bit too much and loved making it known since it involved the two of you becoming even closer. or perhaps as a subtle way of signaling you that he’s ready even if you aren’t. either way, he was absolutely in his element.

you, however, were ready to crawl under the table and stay there until the end of time, embarrassed.

by the time everyone was finally saying goodbye, you could barely fake another smile. several relatives winked on their way out, whispering things like “go work on that baby now” as if they didn’t already do enough damage to your nervous system, but now this too.

hours later, you’re standing in the kitchen rinsing plates, trying to scrub both the dishes and your embarrassment clean.

satoru is still watching you. he tilts his head, eyes a little softer now, like he’s peeling back the layer of jokes he wears so well. he steps closer to you and reaches out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. then his hand tilts your chin upward, coaxing you to meet his gaze.

“i mean it”, he says quietly. “don’t you want a baby with me?”

as a reflex, you try to turn away, but his hand holds you steady. not forceful, but firm enough, like he’s not ready to let you run from the question again.

“i…” you mumble. “i never said i didn’t want that.”

and that’s all he needs. a slow smile spreads across his lips. not a cocky one, but soft. almost relieved. he lets you go, brushing his fingers along your jaw as he pulls back. “good”, he says. “because i already think about it way too much.”

indeed, satoru has been imagining this, fantasizing even, for far too long, before you even got married. and all of his earlier teasing wasn’t just for show.

but on your end, it starts slowly. quietly. like how you start noticing flowers blooming only after winter has begun to fade.

a toddler’s giggle catches your attention in the park. you weren’t even really looking, just sipping on your coffee and scrolling mindlessly on your phone. but the sound draws your eyes up. a little girl in pink overalls is running after bubbles, squealing with laughter. her parents sit nearby on a bench, watching with contentment.

you don’t even realize you’re standing until the bubble pops and the girl turns to look at you, grinning. you smile back.

and just like that, you find yourself looking more often. at playgrounds. at babies wrapped in slings. at tiny shoes lined up in store windows. at couples who walk slowly because they’re pacing themselves with the unsteady toddle of their child between them.

you tell yourself it’s just because everyone keeps bringing it up. that your brain is on autopilot, stuck on a topic you never gave much thought before.

but then, you catch yourself lingering in the baby aisle at the store. just a second too long and just enough to picture what it might be like… a tiny hoodie with a little bear face. a pair of miniature sneakers that could fit in your palm. but alas, you shake your head and move on like that’ll erase the softness creeping in.

of course, satoru doesn’t help.

in fact, he seems to notice the shift in you immediately, even if you haven’t admitted it to yourself yet. one night, while you’re brushing your teeth, he appears in the mirror behind you, eyes sleepy but still, mischievous.

“if it’s a girl”, he says softly, “i want her to have your eyes.”

you pause, toothbrush still in your mouth. you look at his reflection in the mirror, he’s smiling. he says it so casually, like you’d been in the middle of that conversation all along.

pulling the toothbrush out, you gasp. “…what?”

“i mean it, pretty”, he says, leaning lazily against the doorframe. “your eyes. she’ll have me wrapped around her tiny little finger, obviously. but if she takes your eyes? i’m done for.”

you blink at him, unsure if your heart is skipping a beat from his words or because you brushed a little too hard… “satoru—”

“and i want to teach her how to fight”, he adds, grinning now. “so i can pretend i’m cool and strong before she decides i’m not.”

you stare at him. “looks like you’ve put way too much thought into this”

he shrugs, utterly unbothered. “of course i have. i think about it all the time.”

you turn away, rinsing your mouth, pretending your hands aren’t a little shaky from how serious he sounded underneath all the teasing.

another time, you’re curled on the couch, scrolling, when he flops next to you and plops a tiny onesie in your lap. it says: strongest baby alive!

“what— how— why do you even have this?” you ask, holding it up like it might detonate.

he grins. “came across it online. couldn’t resist. look, it’s perfect!”

“satoru.”

“what? just prepping for greatness”, he chuckles. but there’s something in the way he watches you after. like he’s waiting. measuring your reaction. seeing if your fingers linger on the fabric. and when they do — just a second too long — his smile falters. softens and turns quiet.

he doesn’t push it, though. doesn’t mention it again. instead, the next morning, you find your favorite mug already filled with coffee, and beside it… a baby spoon.

you roll your eyes. but you also don’t through it away.

and that night, while helping your friend babysit her toddler, you let the little boy climb into your lap. he has chubby fingers and impossibly soft hair, and he tugs at your necklace while babbling nonsense. at one point, he rests his head against your chest and sighs. you feel something in your chest flutter, crack open…

when satoru comes to pick you up, the boy doesn’t want to let go of your hand. satoru says nothing on the ride home. but he doesn’t let go of your hand, either. one hand on the wheel, the other resting gently on yours, warm against your thigh.

a few days later, satoru was abruptly called by the higher-ups about something last minute. nothing new. he kissed your cheek, told you not to wait up and vanished with a sweet little wink before putting on his blindfold.

now hours later, the silence he left behind still lingers. there’s no hum of his laughter, no echo of his dramatic commentary from the hallway, no footsteps chasing you down for one more kiss. just you.

you’re folding the laundry — a pile of shirts, a few of his socks that somehow always get lost in pairs, and then… a pillow. an extra cushion from the couch that ended up in the wrong basket.

you pick it up absently, ready to toss it aside, but… your hands hesitate. your eyes lower, thumb smoothing across the fabric. your heartbeat shifts a little and almost without thinking, you press the pillow against your stomach. a little too high at first, then you adjust it lower. tuck it in and pull your shirt over it.

just to see, to feel.

you walk to the mirror, barefoot, and look at your reflection. the shape is awkward and lumpy. not real. but the illusion is enough. your hand rests on the makeshift bump and then, slowly, one starts to move, caressing lightly over the curve.

you know it’s silly, but something within you responds. your face warms. you start to imagine satoru’s hand covering yours. you imagine him kneeling in front of you, placing a kiss against your stomach, whispering some ridiculous name idea he’s already picked out. you imagine tiny clothes, sleepless nights, holding something small and warm that’s half you and half him… you let yourself smile.

fingers brush gently over the fabric again. this could happen — you think — it’s possible. it’s real — and for the first time, the idea doesn’t make you want to run and hide. in fact, it makes your eyes sting a little. you lose yourself so deeply in the fantasy that your ears don’t catch on the sound of the front door open.

satoru didn’t mean to get home this quietly. usually, he makes a noise on purpose — jingles the keys, sings something stupid in the hallway, says something lovesick as soon as he opens the door just to hear you laugh.

but tonight, something stops him. he’s got that feeling. a pull.

the house is dim, soft with the kind of stillness that suggests you’re somewhere in thought. then he hears the faint shuffle of feet — yours — and he follows the sound like a thread, guiding him toward a barely cracked bedroom door.

he’s halfway through taking off his blindfold when he sees it through the narrow crack. you, in front of the mirror. a pillow under your shirt. your hands on it like it’s real.

he doesn’t move at first. his eyes track the curve of your body with something close to awe and he forgets how to breathe, or perhaps he’s afraid that if he breathes the moment will vanish. something primal and visceral hitting him all at once. you’re not smiling in the mirror like it’s a joke. you’re dreaming. touching the false belly like you’re already connected to someone that doesn’t exist — but could…

he thinks he might die on the spot. this is the future he’s been aching for in silence. this is the image that’s kept him up at night, one hand over his eyes, the other gripping the sheets, wondering when (if) you’d want the same…

and then, you see him. in the mirror just beyond your shoulder. startled, you turn. your hands fumble the pillow, cheeks heating up from embarrassment. “i— i was just… you know—it’s nothing. i was just being silly—”

he opens the door fully now and steps in slowly as if he’s approaching a dream he doesn’t want to wake from.

“stop”, he says, his voice barely above a whisper. he walks over to you like he’s being pulled by something magnetic. his hands are warm when he places one over the bump. even if it’s fake, it doesn’t matter. his fingers tremble anyway.

“you look beautiful. so beautiful, baby”, he murmurs, eyes not leaving you. “like it’s already real”, he swallows hard.

god, what i wouldn’t give to make it real, he thinks. to watch you grow round and soft with his child. to see the way your body would change — carry the weight of something made by both of you. to feel your skin stretch under his palms, life blooming inside you because of him.

he would worship you. he already does. but like that? pregnant with his child? he wouldn’t survive it.

he plants a soft kiss to your temple, hand curling protectively around your back, the pillow pressing between you. “i want to give you everything, you know that?” he whispers, but his voice sounds strained like he’s holding back too much all at once.

you nod against him. but, it’s not enough. not when you’ve looked at yourself in the mirror like that, not when you’ve imagined it too…

“say it”, he breathes against your hair. “tell me you want it too”

you look up at him, eyes vulnerable. that same look you gave your reflection.

“i want it”, you whisper. “i want a baby with you”

…and that’s it. that’s the thing that unravels him. letting out a shaky breath, he presses his forehead to yours. eyes fluttering closed as he cradles your face in both hands. he’s barely holding himself from dropping to his knees and pressing his mouth to your stomach, kissing it until you forget every reason you ever hesitated.

“let me give you a baby”, he says it now. clearly. openly. reverently. “let me make you a mother”, his thumb stroking your cheeks as his voice falls like a prayer and a plea all at once. “i’ll take care of everything”, he promises. “you’ll never lift a finger. just be mine. just carry ours.”

his lips find yours into a kiss, slow and aching, full of thousand nights he spent dreaming of this exact moment. and in the back of his mind, there’s only one thought echoing over and over.

she wants it. she wants this. she wants me. she wants us.

…and that’s enough to break him, rebuild him, and start everything new.

he gently scoops you into his arms, carefully — like you’re already carrying something precious inside you. your hands fly to his shoulders, your face closer to his. and it’s one of those rare moments where there’s no teasing on his features. only something quiet, something tender. something that longs.

he carries you to the bed like he’s bringing you home, and when he lays you down, he takes a moment. just a moment, to look at you. the fake curve of the pillow under your shirt, the way your hands settle over it instinctively. the way your eyes never leave his.

satoru sinks to his knees beside the bed, presses a kiss low on the fabric over your belly. one hand slides over the curve gently, and then, looking up at you through his lashes, he murmurs,

“i’m going to make this real now.”

[batsandbirdbrains]

Inspired by the one anon who asked abt fics where Dick turns out to be younger than people think he is and the recs that were given:

What if it’s like a scenario where Dick’s parents / the circus changed his age in documents so he could perform. And his age changed all the time on paper because different countries had different rules, even different cities/counties might not be the same as the one next to it. And so Dick sort of forgets how old he actually is most of the time, he just sticks with whatever his parents last told him.

And he was told he was eight when they were in Gotham. He was just short for his age because he’s a gymnast, that’s what they told anyone who questioned them.

In reality, Dick was five years old.

And by the time he remembered he should probably tell Bruce that, it’s already been too long. It’s several months after Bruce has taken him in, after he already has been Robin, and it just hits him one day that he’s going to be turning six in March. Bruce thinks he’s turning nine.

And Dick gets this horrible terrible no good idea in his head that if Bruce finds out he lied about his age, that Bruce will get rid of him. Won’t want him anymore. Will call him a dirty liar and kick him to the curb.

And Dick can’t lose his new home. He loves Bruce. He loves Alfred. And he loves being Robin. So he keeps it a secret and tries to forget that he’s three years younger than he’s supposed to be.

It’s a damn good thing Dick’s parents were rigorous in his schooling, and by some miracle he tests into the proper grade for his age when Bruce starts him at Gotham Academy. It’s a bumpy start, but it’s easily explained away by the slight language barrier. Dick actually speaks and reads English just fine, he learned it the same time he learned French and Romani and Arabic, but it’s a good excuse for why his penmanship is clumsy and why he starts out just slightly behind his peers.

He puts so much extra effort into his school work that by the time he’s supposed to be 13, it’s recommended he skip a grade. Bruce is so proud. Dick is somehow managing to get by as a ten year old in high school, and he cannot figure out how he’s pulling this shit off. Talk about being a showman, because it feels like he’s playing the world’s most impossible role.

But then something happens when Robin is on a team mission with the young justice season 1 team. Some magic shit. Maybe Klarion does something, maybe it’s like the episode where the adults get separated from the kids, but instead of it being everyone over 18 is separated from everyone under 18, it’s anyone who’s a teenager and up being separated from the kids who are all 12 and under.

And no one can figure out where Robin is. And also Captain Marvel is missing. What the fuck.

Bruce is fucking freaking out because he cannot figure out why Dick isn’t anywhere, why he can’t get ahold of him. He’s convinced Klarion must be holding him hostage or something.

And then you have Dick and Billy saving the day on their side, and Dick convinced him to try to transform into Captain Marvel. Billy doesn’t want to, because he doesn’t want to leave Robin alone if it makes him disappear to, but Dick assures him he’ll be fine, they’ll both be fine.

And then they come up with a plan yadda yadda the world is saved Dick and Billy save the day, the rest of the episode doesn’t matter.

But Batman pulls Robin aside immediately once they’re all back together and asks him what the hell just happened.

And Dick just starts crying. He’s so stressed out. This whole situation was so scary and he wasn’t actually all that confident the plans he’d made would work he only pretended to be so sure of himself so Billy could do his part and not be scared too. And also it’s really fucking stressful being a ten year old in high school. It’s very hard. Dick’s life is very difficult, and now his dad is finding out that he’s not as old as he’s been pretending to be, and everyone else is there and going to find out to, and he’s so overwhelmed.

“I didn’t mean to,” Dick says through full on sobs, and Bruce is so concerned and he’s hugging Dick and trying to calm him down, but Dick has gotten himself all worked up. “They changed my age all the time so I could perform, I’d be six in one city and eight in the next and seven in another and I just I forgot I wasn’t really any of those and then you adopted me and I forgot I wasn’t really eight until it was almost my birthday but it was too late to tell you and you would’ve been so mad and you wouldn’t have wanted me anymore and I didn’t know what to do!”

“Hey hey hey, slow down, slow down,” Bruce tells him, “take a deep breath. You need to breathe, Robin.”

But Dick just falls against Bruce’s shoulder and cries. He doesn’t want Bruce to think his parents were bad parents. Because they weren’t, they were the best. They just had to fudge some things so Dick could perform with them, so he could have fun up in the air with them, lots of people in the circus lie about their age!

“Oh, chum,” Bruce coos, resting his cheek on top of Dick’s head, rubbing his back. “I could never not want you. I love you, it doesn’t matter how old you are.”

“You do now!”

It makes Bruce’s heart shatter into pieces. Because Dick really thinks there was ever a time he didn’t have Bruce wrapped around his little finger, he doesn’t realize that Bruce has loved him from the first moment he wrapped the tiny little acrobat in his coat and carried him away from the puddle of blood he’d been kneeling in.

“I have always loved you,” he whispers. “And I always will. But chum, this is important. I need to know how old you really are.”

Dick sobs into his shoulder one more time before he lets out in a miserable whisper that everyone manages to hear, “Ten.”

And Batman damn near breaks. He lets out a shaky gasp, and his grip tightens on Robin as his knees buckle and he falls to the floor, now holding Robin tightly in his lap.

“You were five?” he asks. “Oh my God, you were five.”

Batman has a breakdown right then and there, but he keeps it very contained. He refuses to let go of Robin, just continues hugging him close and whispering that he loves him, he’s not mad at him, he would never ever get rid of him.

Idk what would happen after this but I know for certain Dick and Billy become bffs.

[ggukivrse]

THIRD TIME'S THE CHARM | JJK

summary. when you complain to jungkook about your lack of action in the past year, you're not really asking for a solution. but when he casually offers to help, you just can't seem to bring yourself to say no.

after all, what's the worst that could happen in hooking up just this once?

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre: friends to lovers, smut, fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.7k

warnings: swearing, they actually talk about their feelings :0, explicit sexual content, kissing, making out, hickeys, dry humping, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (be smarter than them pls), a bit of banter, petnames (baby), they're really fucking cute in the end it makes me sick, let me know if i missed anything!

notes: idk if this counts as my first completed series buttt... i'm gonna act like it does. thank you so so much to all the love and support you guys have given me for the past two parts, i'm genuinely so beyond grateful for it all :<< hopefully, you guys enjoy this part too!!

ps. READ PART ONE HERE & PART TWO HERE!!

⌗ masterlist. ⌗ taglist. ⌗ feedback

You open his chat window again like it’s muscle memory. Like your thumb don't know how to not betray you.

It’s not even about sending something. You’ve got no intention of doing that. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. But the screen is always open, staring back at you with that last unread message you sent almost a week ago — a throwaway meme you found on your lunch break. No reply. Not even a reaction.

And it hadn’t felt like a big deal in the moment. You sent it like always, light and dumb and nothing. But then the nothing kept going. No little gray typing bubble. No 'lol.' No double text. No late night 'you up?' Just this wall of silence.

You would’ve rather gotten a dry reply. Hell, even a thumbs up. Anything to prove that he saw you.

But now it’s been long enough that sending something new would feel desperate. Like you’re chasing him. Like you’re asking for something you’re not even supposed to want.

You lock your phone and throw it face down on your bed.

Then pick it back up five seconds later.

Then toss it again, harder, as if that’ll prove something.

You wish you were mad. You think you are mad — at least a little. But it’s a tangled kind of anger. One that knots itself up with embarrassment and sharp, bitter shame. You want to scream at him, yeah. But also at yourself.

Why did you let this happen?

Why did you let him blur the lines and kiss you like that and touch you like he meant it?

You were supposed to be smarter than this.

You lie back across your bed with one arm flung over your eyes. It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid. It was just sex. Just two nights. Two insanely good, dangerously close, way-too-connected nights. But still — technically just sex.

Except it wasn’t.

Not when he remembered your favourite sauce order without asking. Not when he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear while you ranted about work.

And especially not when he went cold the second things felt too good.

That’s what keeps twisting the knife. That shift in him. Like someone flipped a switch and rewrote the script. One minute, he was holding you like you mattered. The next, you were stepping out of his bathroom and into a stranger’s apartment.

You haven’t heard his voice since.

You bite the inside of your cheek and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push down that lump of feeling before it rises too high.

It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re overthinking it.

Maybe he’s just going through something. Maybe he didn’t mean to shut you out. Maybe he thought you didn’t want to hear from him. Or maybe he’s just a fucking coward who got scared when the stakes changed.

But then, why didn’t you reach out?

Why didn’t you ask if he was okay, or tell him he was being weird, or demand an explanation like you’re owed one?

Because you’re afraid.

Because you don’t want the truth if the truth is that he regrets all of it.

Because deep down, you know this isn’t just a friendship anymore, and pretending it is would break you worse than silence.

Your phone buzzes once on the comforter beside you.

You freeze. Then sit up fast, breath catching halfway in your throat.

Your eyes are already scanning the screen before your brain can fully catch up.

Kook 🍜: hi

One word. Just hi. Like the last seven days didn’t happen. Like your stomach hasn’t been in knots trying to make sense of his silence. Like he didn’t vanish without warning after folding you into his sheets and leaving you to figure out what the hell it meant.

Your breath leaves you in one uneven exhale.

You blink at the message, your body locked in this strange stillness. Your thumb hovers, frozen. Part of you is tempted to stare at it until it disappears. Ignore it. Let him feel what it’s like to be the one left hanging. But your hands betray you again — just like they always do with him.

You: Radio silence for a week and all I get is a fucking hi? Wtf Jungkook

It’s not even what you really want to say, but it’s the closest thing you can manage that doesn’t sound like I missed you so much it made me sick or please don’t do this again.

Three dots appear.

Your heart squeezes like it’s caught in someone’s fist. And then the dots vanish.

Then come back.

Then vanish again.

You mutter, “Fucking say something,” to no one. It comes out too small, too desperate. You shut your eyes tight for a second like you can wring the feeling out of yourself by force.

A minute or so passes before his reply finally sends.

Kook 🍜: sorry. can i talk to you today?

You reread it so many times the text starts to lose meaning. Can I talk to you today?

You feel sick.

There’s no way you don’t know what this is. The phrasing. The tone. He wants to talk? What the fuck else could that mean, if not that he’s about to cut things off? That he’s going to hand you some polite little speech about how you’re great, but this can’t happen again. That he wants to stay friends and he doesn’t want to confuse things any more than he already has.

Or worse — he thinks you guys are better off cutting contact all together.

You bite down hard on your thumb, suddenly on the verge of tears and furious at yourself for it. You should’ve never let it get here. You should’ve drawn the line before the second time. Before the car. Before the party.

You should’ve been more careful with your heart.

But you’re here now. So far past the line you can’t even see it anymore.

You open your keyboard, then close it again. You want to ask what he wants to talk about. You want to demand answers over text so you don’t have to see his face when he says the words. But you know you won’t get anything that way.

You: Where?

Kook 🍜: i can come to yours

You sit there for a second, just breathing. You feel like you’re bracing for a crash that’s already midair.

You: What time?

Kook 🍜: i can be there in an hour?

You don’t answer. Not right away. You’re too busy staring at your reflection in the dark screen, wondering why your face looks so calm when your body feels like it’s trying to collapse in on itself.

You: Okay

You put the phone down carefully, like it might go off again, or explode, and turn your gaze to the ceiling. Every minute after this is going to stretch like it’s mocking you.

You don’t know if you’re getting closure or clarity. You don’t even know which one would hurt more.

But you know you won't cancel.

Because if this is going to end — if he’s going to say it — it has to be to your face. You need to see it.

You need to know for sure.

Jungkook is fucked.

Like, actually, cosmically, irreversibly fucked.

He stares at the elevator doors like they’re the gates to hell, and his own reflection in the brushed metal does him no favours. He looks tense. Jaw tight, shoulders hunched up high like he’s trying to fold himself into a more manageable version. Someone chill. Someone who isn’t about to shit himself over the thought of seeing you.

He rolls his shoulders back, shakes out his hands. Useless. He’s already sweating through his hoodie.

Every nerve in his body feels like it’s tuned an octave too high. Like if someone so much as breathes in his direction right now, he’ll either snap or confess something humiliating.

He wipes his palms on his jeans again. That’s the fourth time since the lobby.

The worst part is, he knows how he got here. He knows exactly when it happened, too — the moment the line moved.

It was your laugh. The tired kind, all cracked at the edges after that hellish Friday you had. You were curled up in his passenger seat, half out of it, feet tucked under you, and you’d looked over at him with that soft, worn-down smile.

And it just… hit him.

The weight of it. Of you.

He wanted to reach over and touch your face. Not to tease. Not to start something. Just to feel your skin under his fingers like it was allowed now.

And the second that thought formed — clear and blinding and way too tender — it was over. Game fucking over.

Because it wasn’t supposed to feel like that.

You’re his best friend. Have been for years. He knows how you take your coffee, how you organise your playlists by mood, how you chew on the inside of your cheek when you're anxious. You’re not just some girl he hooked up with at a party. You’re you.

And now, he’s standing in an elevator on the way to your apartment, trying not to think about how badly he messed it all up.

He hadn’t meant to ghost you. Not really. It was just — after that night, after the way you looked at him, all warm and trusting — he panicked. Full-body, brain-scrambling, total system failure. He couldn’t even look at you without feeling like he was seconds from saying something stupid like "Don’t sleep with anyone else, please," or "I think I’m in love with you."

So instead, he shut down. Did the one thing he always swore he wouldn’t do with you — he pulled away. Got weird. Avoided it. Avoided you.

And now you’re pissed.

Rightfully so.

He deserved that text you sent. Probably worse. You could’ve ignored him completely and he wouldn’t have blamed you. But you didn’t. You texted back and he’s clinging onto that like a lifeline. Because it means there’s still time. Still a chance to fix it — if he doesn’t blow it again.

He presses the heel of his hand to his chest like that might steady the erratic rhythm of his heart.

What the fuck is he even going to say?

Sorry for being an emotionally constipated idiot?

Sorry I ghosted you because I realised I’m in love with you and it short-circuited my whole fucking personality?

Sorry I thought I could fuck you and still keep pretending like you don’t mean more to me than anyone else?

The elevator dings.

Jungkook flinches like it slapped him, then scrubs a hand through his hair, lets out a tight breath, and steps through the doors before he can change his mind.

He’s here.

Fuck. He’s actually here.

Jungkook looks like he didn’t sleep last night. Hair messy, clothes a little wrinkled, eyes flicking up to meet yours for a second before they dart away again. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jacket like he’s afraid of what they’ll do if left unsupervised.

You tell yourself not to feel relieved. Not to let it show. He didn’t cancel. He showed up. That shouldn’t mean as much as it does. It really, really shouldn’t.

But still — there’s something in your chest that unclenches when you see him standing there, real and present. Even if he does look like he’s about to apologise for burning down your house or something.

“Hey,” he says, voice quiet.

You step back from the door to let him in. Dry. Wordless. The move is automatic, but your body feels stiff with it, like your own muscles are annoyed on your behalf.

He hesitates before stepping inside, like he thinks the floor might swallow him up. You don't offer a smile. Don't even look at him once the door’s closed behind him.

You cross your arms and lean back against the edge of the kitchen counter, watching him with a blank expression that’s only half-real. The other half is tightly coiled under your skin — anger, sure, but under that, all the feelings you’ve been pretending not to have.

He does a slow, uncertain glance around your apartment like something might’ve changed since the last time he was here. But it hasn’t. It’s still your place. Same plants, same overhead light humming softly, same faint scent of laundry detergent that clings to the air.

He stands there awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It’s like he doesn’t know where to put his body.

You’ve never seen him like this before. Not around you. Jungkook’s always been comfortable here. The kind of comfortable that leaves shoes by the door without asking. The kind that opens your fridge like he owns a shelf. But right now, he looks like a stranger in someone else’s house.

You let the silence stretch out. You’re waiting for him to just speak, but he doesn’t

He doesn’t even try.

Eventually, your voice cuts through the air, a little too sharp. “Jungkook, you said you wanted to talk.”

His head snaps up like he forgot that was part of the deal. Like the fact that he came here at all already cost him everything he had in reserve.

“Yeah,” he says. His throat moves when he swallows. “I do.”

You raise your eyebrows, waiting.

He opens his mouth like he’s about to start, then closes it again. Shifts his stance. Rubs the back of his neck with one hand. You catch the way his eyes flick to the floor, then back to you, then away again.

You narrow your eyes. “Well?”

He breathes out a weak, almost bitter laugh and runs both hands down his thighs, like he’s physically trying to ground himself. “I don’t know how to do this,” he mutters.

You frown, arms still crossed tight across your chest. “What? Talk?”

You hate being like this towards him — you feel like a bitch. But it’s the only way that you can stop yourself from just spilling all of your thoughts and feelings to him.

“No, I—” He breaks off, jaw flexing. “No. I mean… say the right thing. Say any of it without sounding like an idiot.”

You blink, unimpressed. “So you came here without knowing what you were gonna say.”

He looks at you then. Fully. And for the first time since he walked in, you see the real wreckage behind his eyes. There’s nothing cool or casual about it. He’s unravelling in slow motion. Everything about him is quiet desperation wrapped in someone trying really hard not to fall apart.

“I didn’t know what to say because I didn’t know what I wanted,” he says finally. “And then I figured it out, and that somehow made it worse.”

You stay silent.

He shifts closer, not by much — just a few inches. “I fucked up,” he adds, voice barely above a whisper. “I know I did. I know I disappeared. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t care. I was just—” he stops, jaw tightening again. “I got scared.”

You scoff under your breath and look away.

“I’m serious,” he says, softer now. “It freaked me out. How fast it happened. How much it changed.”

You look back at him, jaw set. “What changed?”

He swallows again. Stiff. His voice cracks a little when he speaks next.

“You,” he says again. “How I feel about you. That changed.”

Your chest tightens.

You don’t react, not visibly. You keep your face still, unreadable, even though your brain is suddenly scrambling. You’ve been yanked in too many directions this past week. You’re not going to lean into hope just because he finally decided to speak.

So you say nothing. You just hold his gaze and wait.

Jungkook takes a breath, his shoulders rising with it, then falling in a slow, deliberate exhale. The nervousness is still there — but it’s settled into something quieter now.

“I kept trying to tell myself it didn’t mean anything,” he says. “That it was just— whatever. Two friends, getting carried away. We were drunk the first time, right? It was easy to lie to myself about that. Easy to say it didn’t have to go anywhere.”

His voice is calm, but there's tension underneath it.

“But the second time?” He pauses, tongue running along the inside of his cheek, eyes still locked on yours. “That wasn’t drunk. That wasn’t casual. That was me driving us across town just to make you feel better, because I can’t stand it when you’re not okay.”

You flinch — barely — but he sees it. You know he does.

“And then it was me kissing you like I’d lose my mind if I didn’t. You think I didn’t notice how different that felt? I’ve never kissed you like that before. And I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air between you.

You’re still standing by the counter, arms crossed, but now your grip has loosened. You hate how much this is getting to you, how badly you want to give in, how your chest aches just hearing him say the things you’d only let yourself think when the lights were off and your phone screen was dark.

Jungkook takes another step toward you.

“When I brought you back to mine that night… when you came out of the shower, and I saw you just standing there in my space, looking at me like I was safe…” His voice catches, but not in a way that makes him crumble — just enough to show the truth of it. “I freaked the fuck out.”

You blink at him, finally speaking. “Yeah. I noticed.”

He huffs out a breath that's almost a laugh, but not quite. “I didn’t mean to shut down. I didn’t even know what I was doing in the moment. I just— everything in me wanted to pull you close, and that’s when I realised I couldn’t keep doing this the way we were doing it. Not without losing my shit every time you left.”

Your throat feels tight, but you still ask, “So you decided to ghost me instead?”

That lands. His jaw flexes, and he nods once. “Yeah. I did. I thought if I gave it space, I could go back to being normal. Go back to just being your friend. But I couldn’t. I can’t.

“I don’t want to be just your friend anymore. Not because of the sex, not because it was good— which it was, but that’s not the point. It’s you. It’s always been you. I didn’t realise how much until I almost lost it completely.”

You swallow hard. Your arms are uncrossed now. Not folded in, not defensive — just hanging at your sides like you’re too stunned to remember what to do with them.

Jungkook steps in closer. Not touching you yet. But near enough that you can smell him — faint cologne, his laundry detergent, the scent you associate with your car windows fogging up.

“I missed you,” he says, and his voice turns softer. “Every day. And it scared the shit out of me, how badly I wanted to talk to you. Touch you. Just be around you. I wasn’t ready to admit it last week, and I was a coward for that. But I’m not running anymore.”

Silence again.

Except it doesn’t feel like the ones you’ve been drowning in for a week.

“I don’t know what you’re feeling,” he says, lower now, like the words might break if he’s too loud. “And I’m not assuming anything. But if you still want me around— really want me— just say the word. I’ll figure out the rest.”

You inhale slowly, try to even out your breathing, but your chest still feels like it’s barely holding together. Your heart’s doing that thing where it thuds too hard without speeding up.

You hate that you believe him. That you always would’ve. That no matter how angry you were, no matter how cold you tried to be when he walked in — you still wanted him to explain, to prove it wasn’t what your worst thoughts told you it was.

And now he has.

He’s standing in front of you with open hands, with the words you oh so desperately wanted to hear. And for a moment, you’re not sure what to do with that.

“I hate you,” you say quietly.

It’s not true. Not even close. But it’s the first thing that leaves your mouth.

Jungkook huffs out a dry laugh, eyes dropping to the floor. “Yeah,” he murmurs, nodding. “I figured.”

You shake your head once. “No. I mean it. I fucking hate you for this. For—” You break off, because your voice is shaking now. “For making me feel like I was crazy. For not even saying goodnight after… after everything.”

His face tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“You could’ve just told me,” you go on. “You could’ve said it was too much. That it got weird. That you needed time. Anything. But you disappeared. And I had to sit here wondering if I made it all up."

You pause, pressing your lips together.

“And I— I missed you too, you know,” you add, quieter this time.

His mouth opens like he might speak, but no sound comes out at first. Instead, he closes the space between you by half, slow and steady, like he’s afraid of pushing too far.

“God, you’re such an asshole,” you whisper, but your tone isn't mean. Not even close.

He laughs, soft and low. “Yeah. I know.

“You promise me you’re sure? Cause Jungkook, I will fucking cut off your dick if you pull this shit again.”

He smiles but doesn’t hesitate. “I promise. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

You stare at him.

Long enough that the air between you stretches taut, thin as thread.

His hand twitches like he wants to reach for you but still doesn’t know if he’s allowed. His jaw flexes, his chest rising and falling in uneven swells. You can tell he’s waiting — for a sign, for a go-ahead, for you.

And even though part of you still wants to be mad, still wants to make him sweat just a little longer, the rest of you aches. For his mouth. For his hands. For the solid, grounding weight of him.

So you move.

You step into the last inch of space between you and grab the front of his hoodie. He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for a year, but you don’t give him a chance to say anything.

You kiss him.

Not out of impulse. Not for show. You kiss him because you need to. Because your chest feels like it’s going to split open if you don’t.

At first, it’s quiet. Just lips pressed to lips — careful, slow. There’s a pause between each pass of your mouth over his, like you’re both trying to remember how this started. How you even got here.

But then he sighs against you — not loud, not dramatic, just a sound full of relief — and it unravels something.

His hands lift, hesitating for only half a second before they settle on your waist, fingers curling tight. You press closer, and his lips part beneath yours. The angle shifts. Your nose bumps his cheek. It’s not perfect, but it’s real, and when your tongue brushes his, everything tilts.

The sweetness melts fast.

He makes a sound low in his throat and drags you in like the distance is unbearable. Your hands slide up into his hair, fingers threading through the strands at the base of his neck, and the way he reacts — the little shiver he tries to swallow — sends heat straight down your spine.

You kiss him harder.

His body crowds yours until your back meets the wall. Not rough, not rushed. Just firm. His chest presses to yours, and you can feel the way his heart races. How your own pulse kicks up to match it.

The kiss deepens, turns messy at the edges. His teeth catch your bottom lip and your breath stutters, but you don’t pull back. You tilt your chin, chasing more, and the next time he kisses you, it’s hungrier. One of his hands slips to the small of your back, palm dragging slow and warm beneath your shirt. The skin-to-skin contact makes your whole body twitch.

You gasp into his mouth, and he swallows the sound, his hands tightening. His other arm slips around your waist completely, pulling you flush against him, and suddenly you’re not thinking anymore. You’re just feeling.

The tension that’s been bottling up between you two — the silence, the week of wondering, the ache of missing him so much it hurt — it all floods to the surface.

You fist your hands in his hoodie, yanking him impossibly closer. Your hips shift forward, just enough to brush him, and the sound he makes is sharp and involuntary, caught between a breath and a groan.

“Fuck,” he mutters, barely pulling back. His forehead presses to yours, breath ragged. “You’re driving me insane.”

You huff, lips brushing his. “That’s fair.”

Then he kisses you again. Rougher this time. Desperate in a way that makes your knees go soft.

He doesn’t stay at your mouth for long. His lips trail down — your jaw, your cheek, the shell of your ear. His breath is hot and uneven, and when he finds your neck, your whole body reacts. Your hands clutch at him, your back arches off the wall, and the soft sound that escapes your throat isn’t one you mean to make.

He feels it. Hears it. Answers it with a low, reverent sound that seems to vibrate straight through you.

His tongue traces the spot beneath your ear, slow and deliberate, and your eyes flutter shut.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, your breath catching sharp in your throat. You pull back for a second before lowering your mouth to his neck, right where the collar of his hoodie dips. He lets out a small sound, hands flexing on your waist, when your lips press there.

You start slow. You can feel his pulse under your tongue, the way his chest rises against yours, unsteady and warm. Then you part your lips and suck gently at the spot just below his jaw. His whole body stutters, hips jerking against yours before he can stop it.

Your fingers trail down his chest, tugging his hoodie collar aside for better access. His head tips back, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted.

You do it again, this time with enough pressure to leave a mark, and the sound of your mouth working against his skin is lewd.

He groans. It’s low and rough and barely held back, and the sound shoots straight between your legs. You feel him hardening now, undeniable through the fabric where he’s pressed against you.

“All mine?” you whisper, your lips brushing over the new mark you’ve left.

He doesn’t even hesitate. “All yours.”

His voice is breathless. Wrecked. And so damn certain it knocks something loose in your chest.

You pull back just enough to look at him — really look. His pupils are blown, his lips swollen, a flush climbing high on his cheeks. He looks at you like he wants to devour you. Like he would if you let him.

“I missed that mouth,” he mutters, hands gliding under your shirt again, palms broad and warm. “Missed everything.”

You kiss his throat in reply and drag your teeth across it until he swears under his breath.

His hips grind against you again, harder this time. You both feel it — the friction, the heat building between your bodies.

His arms shift beneath you and he lifts you clean off the ground in one smooth motion, hands strong under your thighs. A startled sound escapes your throat as your legs wrap around his waist on instinct, gripping him tight.

“Fuck,” he mutters again, forehead dropping to your shoulder. “I want you so bad it’s actually stupid.”

You smile, drunk on the feel of him.

“Bedroom?” you murmur, tracing your lips over the new mark blooming against his skin.

He hums lowly, and shifts his grip on your thighs.

He carries you through the hallway and your lips never leave his skin for more than a second.

When he reaches your bedroom, he doesn’t hesitate. He steps inside and drops you onto the mattress in one fluid movement.

You barely get your bearings before he’s crawling over you, slotting his body between your legs, His mouth finds yours again, and you moan into it before you can stop yourself when his knee presses between your legs.

Your hips twitch, grinding down against the pressure, and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through your chest as his mouth moves with yours. His hand slips under your shirt again, this time bolder, fingers spanning across your ribs and inching higher until his knuckles brush the curve of your breast.

You gasp softly, and he pulls back just enough to murmur, “Off.”

You sit up just enough to grab the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head in one smooth pull, your hair mussed from the friction. He watches the fabric fall to the floor, then looks at you.

“You’re so fucking pretty," he breathes.

You roll your eyes automatically, even though your face is already burning. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious,” he says, and his voice drops low. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His lips part and he kisses along your sternum — slow, wet presses of his mouth that trail up and then out, over the swell of one breast, then the other.

You inhale sharply when his mouth grazes the sensitive skin beside your nipple, and his eyes flick up at the sound, pupils blown. He kisses lower, then higher again, murmuring against your skin, “Can’t believe I went a week without this.”

The vibration of his voice right against your skin makes you arch, and he meets you halfway, grinding down slow and deliberate, like he knows exactly what you’re chasing and wants to stretch it out just to watch you squirm.

Your hands curl into his shoulders, nails biting down just enough to make him grunt softly into your skin. He rolls his hips again, slow and heavy, and the pressure against your core has your breath catching in your throat.

“Koo,” you whine out.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, lips pink and wet, hair falling into his eyes. He grins, crooked and hot and deeply pleased with himself.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, and his voice is pure sin.

You glare, but your thighs shift open under him anyway.

“Please.”

He hums, satisfied, and starts working his way lower. Every kiss is wet and unhurried. Down your chest, across your stomach. His hands follow, smoothing over your ribs, down to your hips, dragging the waistband of your pants just slightly with them. His thumbs hook in the fabric, pausing right above your pelvis.

He looks up at you, smug and dark-eyed.

“Gonna let me take these off?”

He's so annoying you're gonna kill him. “Do I look like I’m stopping you?”

“No,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss just below your navel, “but I like hearing you say it.”

You huff, fingers threading into his hair again. “Take them off, Kook.”

He eases them down slowly — too slowly — dragging the fabric down your legs while his mouth follows in a path of heat and pressure. He kisses your hipbone, your inner thigh, every patch of skin he uncovers like it’s something sacred. When your panties go next, he makes a quiet sound in the back of his throat — more reverent than smug this time.

You’re already wet, already aching, and from the way his eyes flicker as he takes you in, he fucking knows it.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re soaked. You missed me that much?”

You exhale hard, cheeks hot. “Shut up and do something about it.”

He grins again, slower this time. “Anything you want.”

His hands grip your thighs and spread them further apart, and before you can say another word, his mouth is on you.

The first swipe of his tongue is long, and delibirate. You jerk at the contact, a broken sound slipping from your lips, and he groans like he’s the one falling apart. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you in place, and does it again.

Every movement of his tongue is practiced and precise. He starts slow, almost gentle, licking through your folds with a kind of focus that makes your head spin. Your thighs threaten to close around his head, but he pushes them apart with ease, never breaking rhythm.

Your hands move to the back of his head, gripping tight. His tongue circles your clit once, then again, and the third time he sucks it between his lips. You try to stifle a moan, but it slips from your lips anyway.

He pulls back just enough to speak, breath hot on your skin.

“Keep making those sounds, baby,” he murmurs, voice wrecked. “Wanna hear every fucking thing I do to you.”

He movements turn faster, his mouth messy and hot and relentless. You’re already close, the build-up sharp and climbing, and he can feel it. One of his hands slips lower, spreading you open further with his thumb, and his tongue drags in tighter circles.

You’re writhing, panting, toes curling into the sheets. Your fingers tug at his hair, your spine arching off the bed.

“Fuck— Kook—” you gasp, head thrown back.

He groans again, the sound vibrating straight through your pussy. He doubles down, mouth moving faster, and when your hips start to stutter, erratic and desperate, he presses his hand over your stomach, grounding you.

“You’re gonna come for me?” he murmurs against you, mouth slick with you. “Gonna let me taste it?”

You nod frantically, unable to speak, your whole body wound tight and ready to snap.

He presses his mouth against you again, lips sucking against your clit, and the feeling has you squirming with pleasure.

“Kook—” your voice breaks open as you come hard against his mouth.

He moans, but his movements don't stop.

Your body arches helplessly, heels digging into the bed, one hand fisted in the sheets, the other still tangled in his hair as you ride out the wave. You’re gasping, blinking hard, your heart trying to punch through your ribs.

Only when your legs start to tremble uncontrollably does he finally pull back.

His lips are slick and swollen, jaw damp, hair messy from where you’ve been gripping it. And he looks wrecked — eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide, like just being between your thighs has undone something in him.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then drags his lips slowly up your inner thigh, leaving lazy kisses in his wake.

You’re still catching your breath, staring at the ceiling like your soul just left your body, when he plants a final kiss on the inside of your knee and murmurs, “Yeah. I’m never ghosting you again.”

You let out a breathless laugh, too blissed out to be mad. “You better not.”

“After that?” he says, crawling back up your body, slow and unhurried. “I’d be clinically insane.”

He settles over you again, pressing a warm, open-mouthed kiss to your stomach, then another between your breasts, then finally your mouth. You taste yourself on his tongue, and when he groans against your lips, it sends a fresh jolt of heat straight through you.

His body is flush against yours, his clothed cock thick and heavy where it presses against your thigh. You let your hands trail down his chest slowly to tug at the denim loops of his jeans.

"Want these off," you mumble against his lips.

He smiles and presses one last kiss to your mouth before he leans back onto his knees. His hands go to his belt, and you watch the way his fingers fumble for just a second.

He gets the buckle undone, then the zipper, the sound louder than it should be in your quiet bedroom. You watch as he shucks them down, boxers and all, and your breath catches slightly at the sight of him — flushed and hard and achingly ready.

“Better?” he asks, voice low.

You nod, breath shallow, and he’s already crawling back over you. The heat of him sinks into your skin as his body settles between your thighs, bare now.

Your legs part without hesitation.

His weight, the press of his chest to yours, the familiar scent of him wrapped in something raw and new — it all hits at once, and your whole body shivers.

He’s warm everywhere. The kind of warmth that soaks into your bones and makes you ache for more.

His hands slide along your arms until they find yours where they’re resting above your head. He threads his fingers through yours and presses them gently into the pillow, pinning you there. His eyes search yours, and you feel the first brush of him between your legs, just the tip, teasing the edge of you.

He doesn’t move yet. Just rests there, eyes locked on yours.

“You okay?” he murmurs, voice low and thick, like he’s hanging on by a thread.

You don’t answer — not with words. You just tilt your hips up, welcoming him in with nothing but a look.

He pushes in slow — painfully slow — each inch dragging fire across your nerves as your body stretches to take him. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, your fingers clenching around his. When he’s fully buried inside you, he stills completely.

“Fuck,” he breathes, forehead dropping to yours. “You feel… unreal.”

You can’t speak — your body’s too full, too wrecked already — so you kiss him instead. Slow and sweet and a little desperate. Your hips rock up, seeking more.

He groans into your mouth, finally starting to move, and every thrust is so fucking deep. It’s not rushed or frantic. It’s him savouring you, like he wants to remember how this feels with every part of himself.

His hands stay tight around yours, anchoring you both to the bed, to each other.

The rhythm builds, a slow burn that spreads everywhere, and between kisses you catch the way he looks at you — like he’s seeing something he’s afraid to lose. Like there’s something he wants to say but can’t yet.

“You were supposed to beg,” you manage to murmur against his mouth, breathless. “Grovel a little.”

That crooked smile curls against your lips. “My bad, baby,” he murmurs. “You can make me beg next time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re gonna regret that.”

He shifts his hips, thrusting deeper, and your breath leaves you in a ragged gasp.

“You promise?”

The challenge in his voice is smug, but his eyes are dark and glassy, his control hanging by a thread. You whimper in response, thighs tightening around his waist, and he dips his head to your throat, dragging his lips along your pulse like it’s the only thing tethering him to earth.

He starts to move with more purpose now, making you feel every second of it. His cock grinds into that spot that makes your vision blur, and your whole body tenses, fingers squeezing his like a lifeline.

The moan you let out is shameless, high and wrecked, when he tilts his hips just right — again and again, like he’s carving his name into your body from the inside.

“Right there?” he murmurs, already knowing. His hand slips between your bodies, thumb finding your clit with the kind of confidence that only comes from knowing you — every reaction, every sound. “God, you’re so fucking wet. You always get like this for me?”

“Koo—” His name slips out broken, a warning and a plea wrapped in one.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, voice ragged, forehead pressed to yours. His thrusts get rougher now, faster, the rhythm losing polish but gaining intensity. “Let me have you, baby. Come again for me.”

The words send a bolt of heat straight to your core, your whole body winding tight. His mouth crashes against yours before you can respond, tongue tangling with yours, greedy and open and honest in all the ways his words still aren’t.

When he pulls back, he’s panting, “You feel like heaven, fuck.”

You can’t even process it — not now, not when his rhythm stutters and his hips slam harder, each thrust jolting a cry from your throat. Your legs are trembling, your grip bruising where it clings to him, and you can feel the knot in your stomach tighening.

“That’s it,” he groans, watching your face like it’s the only thing that matters. “Let go for me. Let me feel you.”

You bury your face in his shoulder, teeth catching on his skin as your orgasm crashes over you. Your body locks up, thighs clenching, and you cry out his name. His hand squeezes yours back, holding you through it.

Your walls grip him tight, and he groans loud against your skin, hips faltering. “Fuck— shit—”

He thrusts once more before spilling into you with a broken sound, voice rasping your name like a prayer.

His whole body shudders as he comes, arms locked tight around you like he needs you to stay exactly where you are — here, under him, around him, real. His forehead drops to your shoulder, damp curls brushing your skin as he exhales, long and shaky.

Neither of you move right away. The air between you is thick with heat and breath and a comforting silence.

Eventually though, he shifts just enough to press a kiss to your collarbone. Then another, softer.

His hand slides along your waist, fingertips brushing lazy patterns into your skin. You hum under your breath — not a word, just a sound — and he responds by kissing your shoulder again.

Your legs are still tangled together. His body still half-draped over yours. There’s a mess between your thighs and sweat clinging to your skin, and you should probably say something, anything — but there’s something sweet about the silence now. It’s soft. Unspoken. Peaceful, in a weirdly intimate way.

He shifts again, easing out of you with a quiet groan, and you wince a little at the loss.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, running a hand gently over your thigh like an apology.

“It’s fine,” you breathe, eyes closed, chest still rising and falling too fast.

He doesn’t go far. Just rolls to the side, still close enough that his leg stays pressed against yours, and reaches for the blanket to pull it up over you both. He tugs you into his chest like second nature, burying his nose in your hair, his hand stroking absently up and down your arm.

“You good?” he asks softly, lips brushing your temple.

“Yeah,” you say, quieter now. “You?”

He pauses. Then he nods against your skin. “Yeah. More than.”

You lay there like that for a while, heartbeats evening out. He’s still drawing shapes on your skin — fingertips slow, mindless — and you smile to yourself, warmth blooming low in your stomach.

“So,” you murmur eventually, voice still hoarse. “What now? We high-five and call it a night?”

He huffs a laugh into your hair. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to a high-five.”

You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder. “Cocky.”

“Confident,” he corrects, grinning. “But really—” He shifts a little so he can see your face, one hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “If we’re doing this, I wanna do it right.”

You blink, caught off-guard by the sudden sincerity in his voice. “Do what right?”

He raises an eyebrow, like it should be obvious. “Us.”

There’s a pause. You look at him, and he looks at you, and it’s terrifying and sweet all at once.

“I really like you,” he says, quieter this time. “And I’m not just saying that because I just got laid.” He cracks a small smile. “Though, to be fair, that was mind-blowing.”

You snort. “So humble.”

“I’m serious,” he says, nudging your nose with his. “I’ll take you out. I’ll plan dumb dates. I’ll be obnoxiously charming and show up with flowers. I’ll be— like— a gentleman, or whatever.”

You give him a look. “You should’ve done all that before you fucked me.”

His grin spreads. “Yeah, well. Guess I got the order wrong. You gonna hold that against me?”

“Maybe,” you say, lips twitching.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, fingers brushing your cheek. “You’ll see. I’ll be so romantic it’ll make you want to punch me.”

“I already want to punch you.”

“And yet,” he says smugly, pulling you closer, “you’re still in my bed.”

“This is my bed, dumbass.”

He pauses. “Okay, fair. But I am naked in it. With you.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face won’t go away. His arm tightens around your waist, and you let yourself relax into it — into him. For once, it doesn’t feel like something to second-guess.

He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth.

You tuck your face into his neck and sigh. “You better bring the good flowers. Like the ones that don’t die in two days.”

“Oh, so now you’re picky?”

“You said dates and flowers. I’m holding you to it.”

“Noted,” he says, fingers threading into your hair. “I’m gonna be so disgustingly good to you.”

You laugh softly into his skin.

And he just holds you tighter.

⌗ masterlist. ⌗ taglist. ⌗ feedback

[kuidore]

Zoeystery headcanons ✧ KPOP Demon Hunters ✧ Zoey x Mystery

✧ ultimate yapper girl x listener boy

✧ He thought she was cute the moment he saw her bouncing her shoulders to soda pop while Rumi and Mira glared at her

✧ he’s not shy, just quiet. he just isn’t used to being human, and it tires him out a lot more than the others.

✧ He slowly feels like he’s actually relearning his humanity with Zoey, not just going through the motions of a human life like he had felt doing the idol thing

✧ Zoey gets anxious that people aren’t listening to her if they get too quiet. She’s used to being mid-ramble, asking a question, and not getting a response because the person tuned out and she didn’t realize

✧ after the first time she asks Mystery if he’s listening, he starts letting out noises of acknowledgement to reassure her while she’s talking so she doesn’t have to lose her train of thought

✧ he wants her to know that he’s listening very intently, and will sometimes even just say it out loud when he doesn’t have a better comment to make

✧ Zoey thinks it’s adorable, and she slowly feels less and less uncomfortable rambling for hours about television or animals or the songs she wanted to write

✧ She eventually just naturally stops apologizing for rambling or being too over the top, to him and to other people

✧ He starts getting better at conversations, but only with her. He asks social questions he used to think were stupid or boring or useless, because she’s the only one whose answers he actually wants to hear

✧ Mystery remembers nothing from his actual life on earth before the demon realm, and that doesn’t change even as he gets more comfortable as a ‘human’

✧ He couldn’t care less. He outright tells Zoey that it “leaves more room in my brain for the memories we make”

✧ she has to excuse herself from the room for a moment and yell into a pillow about how cute he is

✧ He can hear her doing it. when she comes back with a notebook he’s smiling wider than she thought he was even capable of

✧ she sits him down and they make a bucket list of everything she can think of that she considers “necessary to the human experience”, no matter how small

✧ she feels bad about being *excited* over his amnesia, but she can’t help but chatter about how she was going to be ‘introducing him to all this new stuff!’

✧ items on this list include but are not limited to; seeing the ocean in person, finding a really cool rock that you wanna keep forever, going to the bathhouse, and spending an entire day on the couch

✧ Mystery doesn’t really see what’s interesting about any of it, but he agrees because he wants Zoey to go with him

✧ He likes it, mostly because *she* likes it. He could be literally stranded in the arctic, if Zoey was finding a way to have fun he would be able to do it too. His number one idea of ‘fun’ is just… being around her.

✧ Mystery constantly wants to have Zoey on his lap/between his legs/sitting in literally any position where he can wrap his entire body around her from behind and rest his chin on her shoulder.

✧ he falls asleep like this fairly often. Zoey calls him her weighted blanket

✧ in general they both sleep a lot, they take afternoon naps together almost every day

✧ After enough time he’s got basically everything human down besides the ‘not barking at people who get too close to Zoey for his comfort’

✧ that one is an active choice. He has absolutely no intention of stopping that one

✧ bad saja boy became bad Mystery fairly quickly

✧ He pouts every time she says it. At first she felt bad about it, but eventually she started to find it cute

✧ he’ll sit with his head in her lap while she writes lyrics. She’s always patting his head and playing with his hair while mumbling about how soft it is.

✧ one day he realizes the whole time she’s been avoiding his bangs, and he grabs her hand and moves them away himself so she can see his face when she isn’t actively trying to kill him

✧ “You already know what I look like. I don’t care. If it’s just you.”

✧ She’s so giddy she grabs him and kisses him for the first time, and they’re both a little shocked by it

✧ it was the first time she saw him blush and she immediately became determined to make him do it as much as possible.

✧ She already has a notebook of things he likes and dislikes so she can remember (she has ones for Rumi and Mira too obvi)

✧ she adds a section to Mystery’s for things that make him blush

✧ she’s studying this guy like a bug and he secretly likes it

✧ He keeps the bangs cause most of the time he’s just so unable to control his own facial expressions that he would probably get into a fight in public

✧ but he starts pinning them back when he’s with Zoey

[zephyrchama]

Leviathan waved the screen of his DDD in front of your face. He had finally achieved an impressive full rhythm combo in extreme hell mode. Twinkling particle effects and triumphant background music accompanied this feat.

"It was only a matter of time," he gloated. "I knew if I kept at it, I'd get the perfect combo eventually. I actually have, like, really good reflexes, you know? Probably some of the best in existence. They didn't promote me to admiral for noth-- aah!!"

The boasting was interrupted when Beelzebub walked up and swatted him in the forehead. While Beelzebub looked calm, a flood of emotions washed over Leviathan's face. Hurt, betrayal, anger, panic, and above all, confusion.

"What was that for!?" he yelled, rubbing at the red bump just starting to swell under his bangs.

"I was testing your reflexes," Beelzebub said. "You said they were fast."

Leviathan scoffed. "Well, I wasn't ready! I was too distracted by my full combo to really notice... A-anyway! I know I favor RPGs, but just so you know, I'm also pretty high ranking when it comes to FPS games. So I know I can handle-"

Beelzebub smacked his brother in the shoulder. Straight-on, in full view. Leviathan did not dodge. He stayed completely still and only moved once the blow had already striked his shoulder. He stared at his younger brother in disapproval with wide eyes and a deep frown.

"Beel. What gives?"

"Levi, your reflexes suck," Beelzebub observed.

Leviathan growled, "I just wasn't in the zone, ok!? If you had gotten a full combo on extreme hell mode, I know you'd be open to attacks, too!"

"No, I'm pretty sure you just suck. My reflexes are way better."

"Please don't fight," you sighed. "You both have great reflexes for different situations."

"Mine are better," Beelzebub said at the same time Leviathan insisted, "Mine are the best!"

[bunnis-monsters]

Cafes and knots

Werewolf x Vampire!Reader

WC: 2k+

warning: breeding, knotting, blood drinking, grinding, pining

A/N: Use code: birthday to get 25% off your first month of my Patreon ^^ this was a Patreon/kofi reward, and everyone on Patreon and kofi got to see this first!

It was one of those nights, the type where you spent every moment of your eternal life on your feet, jogging back and forth between customers.

Working at a cafe for monsters wasn’t terrible. If anyone asked, you would say it was a fun job with great perks.

The only problem you had was the pushy, rude customers that either wanted the manager or something inappropriate from you.

Thankfully, some of your regulars always stuck up for you when a situation got out of hand.

Especially him.

Standing at a little over 6 foot and with a muscular frame, his eyes always followed the sultry sway of your hips as you moved around the cafe.

Usually, he came in twice a day. Once in the morning for a black coffee and donut before work, and once at night for a protein shake and any pastries you had left to fuel up for the gym.

So when someone got rowdy, he was quick to run over and get up in their face. Tobias was that kind of guy, always ready to help.

You had no idea that he had a thing for you, and that’s why he was so defensive over his cute vampire barista.

To most it was obvious you were crushing on him like crazy too, but neither of you were aware of your shared love.

Most of the time you spent the day sighing wistfully, watching him from the register as he chowed down on your freshly baked pastries. He had a huge appetite after his workouts, so you decided to treat him.

Although today was relatively peaceful, the werewolf was still on edge, as if he could sense something was about to happen.

“Toby, something up?”

You walked over, placing a pastry in front of him. “Here, it’s on the house.”

Tobias looked up at you as if you offered him the world, taking the pastry into his hands carefully. The man loved his baked goods, and giving him something like this for free meant a lot more to him than you knew.

“Thank you… and it’s nothing, I just…”

His wolf ears perked up when the bell chimed, signaling someone had just walked in. A nasty looking monster walked in, his horrible body odor spreading through the cafe like a thick miasma.

None of that mattered to you, though. You politely greeted him, smiling as you gestures towards your menu. “Welcome, what would you like, sir?”

“Hey, toots. Black coffee and some of those bagels, stat.”

You blinked in surprise, about to say something before Tobias spoke up. “Don’t talk to her like that, she’s a lady.”

The werewolf was barely holding himself back from jumping up and beating the guy, he just wanted to keep the peace and make sure you weren’t mistreated.

“I wasn’t talking to you, was I, mutt? Now get ya ass back there and make me a damn coffee!”

He raised his hand, about to slap your ass before Tobias caught it mid swing. The sound of bones snapping filled the air, and Tobias began to shift right in front of you.

“I’m not mutt, and you should never even try to lay a hand on her, you hear me?”

The monster screamed, pulling back his scaley wrist in agony before running out the door, cursing the entire time.

“Wow… Toby, you saved me.”

Your cheeks heated up, and you smiled fondly at the man as his fur settled down. Slowly, his body shrank and he was back in his usual human form.

“That’s probably what had me on edge earlier, I could smell the bad vibes from a mile away.”

He sipped on his protein shake, his tail wagging while you smiled at him. Did you know how pretty you were, with your plump cheeks and twinkling eyes?

“I really appreciate it… is there anything I can do to repay you?”

His tail thumped against the booth he was seated in, and he swallowed as he looked up at you. “Well… I enjoy your baking… would you mind coming by my place and teaching me a recipe or two?”

It was clear he just wanted to spend time with you, the person he was crushing on, but you didn’t notice. “Oh, sure! I can come over after work.”

“Sure!”

“It’s a date!”

When he walked out, you sank behind the cash register, hands over your warm cheeks as you squealed.

It was kind of like a date, right? In your mind, he just wanted to bake with you, but to you it was a date!

Once you were home, you scoured through your closet, struggling to find something cute to wear that you thought Tobias might like.

After 30 minutes of trying on clothes and tossing them aside, you decided on something simple and comfortable to bake in that would also be appropriate for a possible date.

You stood outside his door, a parasol keeping the fading sunlight off of your skin. After knocking, you heard some rummaging before footsteps approached you.

Tobias answered his front door, wearing only a bag of sweatpants. Sweat dropped down his toned, tan chest and his tail picked up speed when his eyes met yours.

“Hey, sorry I’m still a bit sweaty from my work out. You smell- I mean you look nice.”

You were too busy staring at his glistening pecs to notice his slip of the tongue. “Ahh, thank you…”

He smiled, wiping his brow before stepping aside. “Come on in, I cleaned up the kitchen a minute ago!”

You bit back a laugh, spotting crumpled baking supplies sitting on the counter. Rolling up your sleeves, you got to work whipping up something sweet.

He hovered behind you, watching with great interest as you cracked another egg into the bowl. It was hard to concentrate when you could almost hear his warm blood rushing through his veins, only aggravated by his post workout scent.

You were definitely aroused, but tried to play it off… Tobias, however, knew your scent was off.

You yelped when he suddenly started to sniff at your neck, moving down your back. “T-Toby, what are you-“

He stopped, his cheeks reddening as he stepped back. “Sorry, I forgot that uh… that’s not normal for non-werewolves…”

He looked away shyly, scratching the back of his head. “You just… smell different.”

His tail wagged, and he tried his best to hide his boner as you continued. Tobias was truly a sweet guy with good intention, he was just a bit of a himbo.

The werewolf followed you around like an oversized puppy, his tail knocking over random objects in the kitchen. Although he was making a mess, you couldn’t help but find him cute. Getting to see him at home where he was comfortable felt like a treat to you!

The sexual tension was rising by the second, and you both felt your arousal growing. Tobias still hadn’t put on a shirt, but he was a little ditsy so you couldn’t blame him for forgetting.

“Hey…” Tobias called out as you put the pie in the oven. “Do you… wanna stay for a movie or something?”

Your eyes widened, and you looked over at the blushing werewolf. Although you wanted nothing more than to stay with him a little longer…

“Sorry, I have to feed tonight. If I don’t drink enough blood I get woozy.”

For a moment, Tobias looked disappointed, but suddenly his face lit up. “Just drink from me!”

Your undead heart leapt into your throat as you struggled to comprehend what he just said. There was no way Tobias knew how intimate it was to drink from someone else, you knew that, but it made your plump thighs tremble regardless.

“A-alright… I guess I can do that.”

He sat on the couch, looking up at you with those big blue eyes of his. “Is this an okay position?”

You nodded slowly, climbing into his lap. He blinked, smiling widely as you pushed his dark hair away from his neck. “Y-yeah, it’ll hurt for just a second…”

Your fangs extended, glinting in the faint light of his living room before you leaned forward to plunge them into his neck.

“F-fuck!”

His large hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you down onto his lap until you could feel the bulge in his pants.

Tobias let out a growl, your flustered expression unseen by the werewolf as he began to move you against his bulge.

“Sorry… just… got all worked up, you know?”

You continued to drink, and his tail wagged when he noticed you rocking your hips with him. When you were full, you pulled away and panted softly, blood dripping down your chin.

Tobias leaned forward and licked it off, his blue eyes cloudy with lust. “… how about you just stay the night?”

Neither of you were thinking much as you made the way to his bedroom, you were too busy locking lips. His tongue entered your mouth, and he pinned you against the wall.

“God, I’ve wanted this for a long time…” he said, staring down at you like a lovesick puppy. “You’re just perfect…”

“You… wanted me?”

All those days spent pining after him, wanting nothing more than to feel his muscular frame against your soft one… you could have had him all along!?

“Let’s not waste any time then!”

You surprised Tobias with your strength when you pulled him along to the bedroom, his ears flicking and tail wagging enthusiastically. He was just a needy puppy that was excited to have you all to himself!

Within seconds you were in nothing but the lingerie you picked out to wear underneath your clothes. Tobias’s cock strained against his sweatpants as he drooled.

“You look amazing… want…”

He sat at the edge of the bed, laying on his belly as he positioned his head between your legs. “Need…”

Tobias pulled the lacy fabric to the side, humping the bed like a desperate dog as he took in your pussy’s scent for the first time.

He lapped at one of your puffy lips, his pupils displaying before he buried his face between your thighs and began eating you out.

You bucked your hips tugging on his hair and moaning while he looked up at you with pussy drunk eyes. Tobias found the way you whimpered and tried to cover your face as he devoured your chubby pussy absolutely adorable.

His tongue moved over your swollen clit, stimulating it as his fingers pumped in and out of you. You could already see a wet spot forming on his sweatpants, knowing werewolves came a lot.

“Wanna… wanna mate…”

Tobias climbed up, panting as he pulled the waistband down and let his cock spring free. It was huge, pulsing, and twitching.

“T-Toby… I wanna mate with you too…”

You whimpered, feeling him press against you. The tip of his cock was already pressing into your cunt, and the stretch was… pleasant.

Your nails dug into his back, leaving long scratches in his thick skin. Tobias was stretching you out nice and slow, keeping one of his fingers on your clit.

“That’s it, that’s my little mate…”

He moved his hips at a moderate place, playing with your nipples and clit to stimulate you. You had the urge to feed, to bite down on him, and when Tobias noticed he leaned forward so you could sink your teeth into his shoulder.

The man was a werewolf, he could take some blood loss, and the idea of you biting and marking his body ruled him up.

“That’s it, mark me up… f-fuck, gonna stuff you full alright?”

Another growl rumbled in his chest and he lifted your hips so he could fuck deeper into you. “G-gonna breed you, okay? Gotta have my pups, you’ll give me a litter won’t you?”

Watching your pussy stretch around his cock, squeezing it when you came was enough to have the man groaning with pleasure. You pulled back from his neck to kiss him, letting your tongue twirl around one another before he turned you so you could lie on your soft belly.

Your face squished against the pillow, and now Tobias could properly mount his mate. His cock twitched inside you as your plump ass rippled with each thrust.

“Gonna cum!”

Tobias groaned out, completely lost in the feeling of your pussy. His seed spilled into your belly, filling you up completely.

He slumped over you, a low purring emanating from his body. When you started to move, he used his weight to keep you still.

“Don’t move… gonna knot you…”

Before you could ask, you yelped at the feeling of his cock swelling up inside of you. You could barely take it, panting softly as a bulge formed in your belly.

He cooed, rubbing the bulge before moving the toe of you into a better position. Tobias cuddled you from behind, leaving bites and kisses on your neck.

“Knotting… I forgot about that part,” you murmured. Do to having a crush on Tobias, you had done some naughty research into werewolf sex that involved a lot of porn and masturbation.

“Mmph, that's the best part… now we’re locked up for the next hour.”

The two of you ended falling asleep long before the swelling went down, and from then on you had yourself a boyfriend.

Work became even more fun… especially when no one was in the cafe.

“B-but what if someone hears us?”

“We’ll be quiet, it’ll be okay.”

You pouted, unable to deny your cute boyfriend when his tail was wagging and his cock was pressed against your dripping pussy. Sure, the cafe was empty, but what if someone walked in?

He fucked into you carefully, sighing as you tried your best to keep your eye on the door while peeking out of the bathroom. Tobias covered your mouth to muffle your moans, leaning down to nip at your neck and lick the marks he left.

“My good little mate, taking me so well… you’re all wet, getting excited at the thought of getting caught, huh?”

You bit your lip, letting out a needy whine as he groped your tits. “You’re insatiable, this is the third time this week…”

“Hey, I can’t help that I’m in rut, and when I smell you getting all aroused when I visit it gets me going!”

Tobias came inside of you, nearly making the two of you top over as he relaxed and rested his weight on you.

Now, you were stuck taking orders from customers who could smell the werewolf’s musky cum on you. It was embarrassing, and they wouldn’t look you in the eye.

“That was on purpose, wasn’t it?”

Tobias grinned as he drove you home after work, and it was hard to stay mad at your sweet himbo. “Can’t have any getting the wrong idea and trying to court my little vampire mate.”

You huffed, then laughed a bit when he gave you puppy dog eyes. “Yeah, I guess not.”

You never thought your crush would like you back, but now you had a great boyfriend and you couldn’t ask for anything better.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi @flamefoxx @sandramalikstyles-blog @breathingstarlight : @puppyboytranny

[lazysoulwriter]

stay close - pedro pascal ── .✦

requested! thank you. content: explicit smut, established relationship, sleepy summer sex, lace lingerie, soft dom!pedro, needy and affectionate, praise, gentle asking, cockwarming turning into slow love-making, intense emotional connection

The fan hums softly, spinning uselessly above your bed.

It’s summer in LA. The kind of heat that lingers in your bones. You’re half-asleep on the cool sheets, barely covered, chest rising slow and soft. Pedro’s behind you, wide awake and suffering.

Not because of the heat. Because of you.

You’re wearing that new set you tried on earlier — black lace, barely-there, the kind that wasn’t really made for sleeping but you insisted anyway. “It’s too hot for anything else,” you mumbled, already climbing into bed.

Now here you are. Back pressed against him, your ass snug against his thighs. One strap slipped off your shoulder. Your hips shifting every so often in your sleep, dragging that sweet curve over the very obvious problem in his boxers.

Pedro groans quietly into the pillow.

He wants you.

No—he needs you. Just to feel close. Just to have you wrapped around him, even if it’s slow. Even if it’s quiet. Even if all he gets is a little of you, half-asleep and pressed up against his chest, breathing softly while he stays buried inside you.

He leans in and kisses your shoulder. Soft. Careful.

You stir just a little, humming.

“Baby,” he whispers, voice like gravel. “You awake?”

“Mmm… kinda.”

His hand drags slowly over your waist. He presses a kiss behind your ear, lips warm and needy.

“Can I… stay inside you?” he asks, barely above a breath. “Not fuck. Not yet. Just—be close.”

You blink, still half-lost in sleep, but the way he says it makes your body ache. He sounds so tender. So full of want.

“Yeah,” you whisper, reaching back to touch his hip. “Yeah, baby. Come here.”

He pushes his boxers down, carefully tugs your panties to the side. Takes his time. Just the tip of him sliding between your folds has him exhaling like it’s relief.

And then he’s inside. Slowly. Deeply. Filling you with a low moan that makes your whole body shiver.

You gasp softly. “Pedro…”

“Shh,” he murmurs, kissing the nape of your neck. “Just like this. You feel so fucking good. So warm. Let me stay.”

His hands grip your hips, not to thrust — just to hold. To anchor himself in the sweetness of you.

But the longer he stays buried in your heat, the harder it gets to hold back. You’re clenching gently, body responding even in your daze, and he can’t help the way his hips start to roll. Slow. Deep. Intimate.

You moan.

“Wanna make love to you,” he whispers, breath shaky. “Let me. Please.”

And you nod, already melting for him.

What follows isn’t fast or rough. It’s needy. Soft kisses. Slow strokes. His hand slipping under your lace bra to thumb over your nipple. His mouth on your shoulder, your jaw, your cheek.

“So beautiful,” he pants. “So fucking perfect for me.”

You come with a whimper, pressed into the mattress, body trembling around him as he follows seconds later — groaning your name like it’s the only thing that ever mattered.

After, he holds you even tighter. Still buried inside. Still connected. Still needing to be as close as possible.

You whisper, half asleep, “I love you.”

And he kisses your shoulder again, whispering, “I’ll never get enough of you.”

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

[distuff]

Demon Boys' and Sharing

Featuring: : Jinu Saja, Abs Saja, Mystery Saja, Romance Saja, Baby Saja Reader: gender neutral

📍Requests

If ya enjoyed yourself and ya have some ideas for prompt please don't hesitate to send me "Ask" with your prompt and which Demon boy you want to see appear in the prompt)

_ _ _ _ _

Jinu Saja

🐦‍⬛ Jinu would argue to the demon realm and back that he was not possessive of what was his... maybe just a bit. But no one, and he means no one, had the proof of this besides the Magpie and the Tiger - and both swore to secrecy. He even made them sign non-disclosure agreements, since he didn't trust the damn bird.

🐦‍⬛ However, hypothetically, if someone from the guys were to, let's say, try and pet his Tiger... Jinu really didn't know where the demonic flame came from: "You know how moody Gwi-Ma can be," he would say with an 'innocent' smile, which was always met with unimpressed expressions from the guys.

🐦‍⬛ Safe to say, when Jinu introduced you to the others with a subtle threat that regarded your safety, the guys watched with unimpressed gazes as Jinu steered you to his room - neither feeling the need to warn you about Jinu's possessive nature. Too curious to see what their 'leader' would do once you touched the Tiger.

It was late afternoon when you and Jinu were resting on the couch in the guys' living room - you against Jinu's chest as he went through the latest notes of their song belonging to their newer album, Abby, Romance, and Baby all playing UNO on the kitchen counter - when it happened. You’d dated Jinu over a month now, taking the news of him and the others being demons as well as any human - by trying to run away, no matter how good-looking he was; self-preservation was strong. You got over it like any healthy couple would, calling it a bumpy road in your relationship that strengthened it more. So, seeing the neon-blue Tiger with large eyes that seemed to stare endlessly at you - and looked about ready for the eyes to bulge out - step, or rather prowl, very slowly towards you, you both felt a bit of the natural fear, but also— "Awwweee!!" You immediately sat up with glittering eyes - ignoring the way the trio at the counter snapped their heads towards you, eagerly awaiting Jinu's reaction - as you went and let the Tiger smell your hand. The Tiger, however, just slowly moved its head down, staring at the hand unblinkingly before it slowly bumped it and, after a second, started to purr without moving its head. Feeling a little creeped out but still filled with the cuteness, you started carefully petting it, marvelling at the softness. The trio's mouths dropped as they stared at how the Tiger was now attempting to crawl onto you, with Jinu just continuing to read through his notebook with laser focus, not minding that you - and now the large cat - were occupying his lap. "Fucking bullshit," Baby muttered before putting his lollipop back into his mouth and turning to the game.

Abs Saja

💪 Abby was the least possessive out of the five of them. Unlike the others, he reacted to none of your advances. You took a piece of the street food he bought? Go at it! You want more? You took his clothes? It's fine - he has more! You snatched his phone? He doesn't even know how to work with it! Want to teach him? Abby was attached to nothing you asked for and didn't consider anything that you took from him his.

💪 At least, that’s what it looks like until you decided to do laundry day. Having been dating for a month, you basically lived with the others in their shared apartment, where it was normal for yours and Abby's clothes to be just dumped together in one laundry basket and be done with - besides the underwear, of course. You were not that close... yet.

💪 So, imagine Abby’s surprise when he walked into his room and saw you holding what once was a gently woven bracelet that he had kept with him from his era before he was taken to the demon realm and chained by Gwi-Ma, now innocently being held in your hands - all destroyed.

💪 You looked confused when you glanced at him before your eyes widened. Abby didn’t know what he looked like as he silently walked towards you. He could only focus on holding onto the boiling anger that was fighting to seep through.

💪 Abby was silent when you gently handed him what once was his bracelet, gifted to him for 'luck'. He stayed silent when you walked past him, having to feel the tension seeping from him. He stayed silent once you gently shut the door behind yourself.

💪 Only then did Abby allow himself to let his demonic form take over, as his hands burned - setting the useless piece of strings on fire, leaving only a few ashes in his hands that easily fell down as he opened his palm, eyes cold as he watched it fall on the carpet below.

A few days had passed with radio silence between you and him. Abby didn’t know what to text you, what to tell you, what to do if he saw you - so, guessed it was a good thing you two had some space between each other. At least that was what Mystery was telling him while Abby was being held by the other three as he was currently trying to crawl towards the entrance door to go and track you. Demon senses be finally useful for other shit than smelling the lust on his fans or feeling itchy when wearing nothing but silk. "For the love of - stop squirming!" Jinu bit at him as he sat on his back together with Romance, while Baby was trying - and failing - dragging him back by his legs. "The pain, the sorrow, the tragedy!" Romance wailed as he placed his hand on his forehead dramatically, leaning back before he blinked and looked at Mystery with a deadpan expression, "What happened again?" he asked, all but disinterested. Before Mystery could answer, the entrance door clicked open, freezing the five of them in place and making the Tiger slowly tilt his head, causing the Magpie to squawk from nearly falling. When Abby saw you walking in with hesitation but a sense of determination - as you seemed to be clutching something to your chest - Abby all but easily got up, throwing down Romance and Jinu who flailed as they fell on the floor, glaring nastily at Abby, who ignored all of them as he all but sprinted towards you. Before you could react, you were suspended in the air as Abby twirled you with a large grin before gently setting you down and hugging you to his chest, nuzzling into your hair and taking in your sweet and savoury scent. The two of you ignored the guys shuffling and Baby’s gagging noise as they walked further into the apartment, leaving the two of you. After a moment, though, you tried to get out - which Abby was not making easier. "Abby, hold up—I... I have something for you..." you said, trailing off a bit, but it was enough to pique Abby's curiosity. Letting you go, Abby blinked down at you as you seemed to be gathering courage before you finally presented to him what you were holding to your chest. It was a messy replica of the bracelet you’d destroyed. With steady hands, Abby took it, inspecting it as you went on about how it took longer than you thought, how you paid for a course that taught this, and how you didn’t know it was from such a late era. "I mean, I just thought it was something you’d made when you were little," you chuckled sheepishly, "I didn’t know it was this old way of tying knots that was for protection—huh?" You stopped talking - cut off by the sudden hug from Abby. After a moment, you hugged him back as he nuzzled into your neck. Putting his hand on the back of your head, he pressed you further as he stared boredly at the bracelet in his hand with eyes seeping with glowing yellow and slitting a bit. A sharp grin made its way onto his face as he clutched the useless jewellery. Who cares about that shit anyway? With the painful distance you put him through, Abby realised he had something better than some bracelet. You. You were his - and he would die before he let someone destroy you, accidentally or not. You were Abby’s new ‘lucky charm’.

Mystery Saja

🐶 For such a silent being, Mystery wasn't surprised when the others thought he was... calm. Or rather, that he was reasonable. Human language was so complicated...

🐶 Mystery just chose to use his energy wisely. Teasing? Celebrating? The chaotic laughter the guys sometimes broke into in the middle of planning HUNTER/X's downfall? His desperate... puppies? What was the word Jinu said to call them— Ah... "Fans." All these, Mystery labelled as "Waste of energy," while everyone else labelled him as "Cool and Collected." ...Haaah.

🐶 It was Baby who first saw him snap. Mystery thought it was useful that the youngest of the demons saw him, as Baby was blunt to his very core and wouldn't make stuff up, unlike Romance or Abs. But he was gossipy enough to say it to others, unlike Jinu, who would keep it to himself.

🐶 It was only the two of them, as the other three were asked to join some body contest among other boybands, not needing all five of them. Baby was openly bored, and Mystery was openly ignoring him. That is, until Baby dragged himself to his bookshelf - neatly organised by genre and book title - and was about to pluck one from the Dark Noir section.

🐶 The only thing that saved the other one from having his fingers bitten off was his abnormal reflexes, as he sidestepped with bulging eyes, hand moving up and fingers twisting into sharp claws aimed at the danger - before Baby jerked, locking his demonic eyes with Mystery’s glowing ones peering up at him over his fringe. They were slitted horizontally, unlike the other demons, whose eyes slit vertically.

🐶 Mystery was crouched, a low growl vibrating from his chest as Baby watched the two upper canines grow, twisting out from his lips. There was a silence before Baby took a step back and relaxed his hand, his eyes seeping into dark steel blue as he scoffed - making Mystery ease and let his human form take over once more as he slowly rose.

🐶 Baby gave him a once-over before he huffed, turning to leave and flipping him off with his back to him. Mystery watched over his bangs before calmly returning to the couch to continue reading.

Baby, being the unfortunate victim, the young demon was all but traumatised by his senior, staying clear of that bookshelf from that day onwards. So... imagine the younger’s surprise as he slowly ate the disgusting cereal that tasted like wheat with milk he wanted to throw out - but couldn’t, because you, a human Mystery had taken as a pet, were here. Baby couldn’t even turn and glare at you as you were doing Gwi-Ma knows what, while Mystery sat near you reading - releasing the oppressive aura the guys found he had been holding back when you first showed up. Everything was relatively peaceful until you started to whine about having nothing to read. Mystery tilted his head, attention focused on you with piercing eyes through the thick fringe that Jinu said should be kept hidden for their bright intensity. He may have messed up a bit on the transformation he guessed. Mystery rested his hand with the book on his lap so you would see he was attentive to you, listening as you explained how you’d tried reading all sorts of books - even fics! - but none had caught your interest. He listened further as you described what sort of book you felt like reading and, without hesitation, he answered in a steady voice, "The twelfth row from the top - use the stepping stairs over there," he pointed first at his bookshelf, then at the hidden wooden stairs at the very end, before continuing - neither of you paying attention to the choking noises coming from Baby in the kitchen - "In the ‘O’ section, the book with the deep blue spine and silver letters. That one should be good for you." Mystery felt his hand twitch as you beamed at him, brushing his side strands - and thus brushing his cheek - with your gentle hand. You thanked him as you stood up and went to search for his book he’d described, all the while watching you sort through his bookshelf. Seeing all that belonged to him so close to one another made him roll his shoulders, and he straightened - releasing more of his demonic energy from how pleased he felt - followed by the sound of something, or someone, hitting the floor in the background. Your head finally snapped towards the sound, and with widened eyes you called out, "Oh my God, Baby!" All the while, Mystery only kept his eyes on you - his hair parting as he followed your hurried footsteps to look at the younger, revealing one of his eyes with a horizontal slit that expanded into a black moon.

Romance Saja

🌹 Romance was openly possessive. He saw no shame in protecting what was his. This also kept him away from the unnecessary stressful experiences where he would have to threaten one of the guys if they tried taking something of his.

🌹 It was just that easy! Romance always shook his head at the others' antics when one took or touched something of another, leaning away when he saw a wrinkle appear on one of their foreheads - prepping himself that day for some ‘spa time’ for himself and whichever member had such an imperfection on his face.

🌹 So, when you caught his attention and began to... date him - was that the new term that humans called the betrothal phase in the modern world? Jinu did say something on this topic, but Romance only remembers fixing his hair so it wouldn’t lose volume. ...Where was he...

🌹 Ah! Him, with you.

So when you started to become part of his routine and thus his life, you really believed you were getting any ‘special treatment,’ darling?

Flushed skin was one of Romance’s favourite sights, he thought, as he trailed a clawed finger over the bite marks on the back of your shoulder and arm, until he laced your fingers together and brought them to his lips - nibbling carefully with the set of sharp teeth that were a far cry from those in his full demon form. What was the point of hiding his true nature from you when you began dating, when he knew showing it would lead him exactly where the two of you were now? The two of you snuggling, your back against his chest, and coming down from such a satisfying moment. That is, until you began to stir - and Romance saw no reason not to let you go, curious to see what you were trying to do. Kiss him? Be the one to hold him? Another round, perhaps? Seems like neither, as he watched you, like a curious cat, rise. Still on his bed, you moved to the edge, with Romance following to see what you wanted to— A deep growl resonated through his room, freezing you as you reached down to take the shirt he wore today - the one you took off him before falling under his masterful hands that reshaped you each time. With owlishly wide eyes, you turned to him as he watched you with narrowed ones, no doubt dark carmine now overtaken by glowing gold and slitted pupils. His mouth was partly open, flashing his sharper teeth as his clawed hands dug into the duvet. He only stopped growling when you finally got the message and moved away. He huffed, watching as fear gave way to what could only be described as a mix of disappointment and hesitation on your face. Your eyes were turned downward, which Romance did not like. Gently, he placed a clawed finger under your chin and brought it up, his nose barely brushing yours as his golden eyes glowed, the slits expanding a bit as you locked eyes with him - his grin sharpening dangerously. “Silly human~” he cooed, brushing your cheek and placing his hand below your ear as he leaned forward, lips brushing yours as he spoke, "Can’t remember me telling you not to touch what is mine?" he all but growled the last word before devouring you that night once more. A few weeks after, Romance could still sense some longing from you. He didn’t understand the need for humans these days to share their clothes with their other half, but oh well… so be it. On that day, he went and bought you two matching sets of clothes. Teasingly dangling them in front of you, Romance told himself this set would be the first and the last. However, when you squealed and all but jumped on him - hooking your legs around his midsection before jumping off, grabbing your part of the set, and running into his room to change - only to come back in the colours he chose for you, Romance all but started cataloguing all the types of clothing you’d need. Romance still didn’t understand the notion of sharing clothes with your partner - dare he say humans were foolish in this day and age - as seeing you in the clothes he picked for you made him feel more like he claimed you than you wearing what was his.

Baby Saja

🍼 Baby could give two shits about the guys taking something of his. Jinu wanted to use his hairbrush? Go wild. Jinu should make sure he wouldn’t find a strand of black hair on it, though. Otherwise, Baby would plug the iron-pointed teeth of the brush and perfectly align it on Jinu’s mattress in a way he wouldn’t notice until bedtime.

🍼 Romance dressing him up and throwing out the clothes he bought for him? Hands raised - Baby would listen, not really caring as long as Romance left him alone for the rest of the day.

🍼 Abs lost another toothbrush? Here. But Baby wasn’t responsible for the spicy taste it had when he handed it to the tall demon. And Mystery wanting the cookie one of the braindead humans… cough, fans, gifted him with yet another baby bottle? ...Here. He’d give it, as long as Mystery got rid of that cursed bottle.

🍼 So no. Baby was not possessive, materialistic, territorial, or whatever other fancy word humans decided to use to describe the simple need to keep their deluded autonomy. Baby had none of that. He knew who and what he was - he didn’t need anything to prove it.

🍼 That was until you came into the picture. You were no different from the other humans - just another soul for Gwi-Ma to consume... or at least in the beginning. The closer you got, the more Baby wanted to keep your vibrant soul all for himself. They were allowed by their King to eat a few of the souls themselves, after all... not that you needed to know. Knowing he was a demon was enough for you - a selfish decision that allowed him to ease up some of the illusion and harness more energy, as well as be with you.

🍼 However, as a human once himself - and not that long ago turned demon too - Baby should have remembered humans were far too greedy~

It was just the two of you, the others having gone out, and since you refused to tag along, why should Baby bother? He was resting between your legs, sucking on a lollipop, watching some shitty story on that slim box Jinu called the “TV” - and the story a “movie with actors” - while you were doing your own thing. Baby didn’t move much when you stood up, telling him you needed some sugar to keep going. He hummed as he sucked on the lollipop, imagining it was the bitter-sweet taste of a human soul instead of the pungent medicine - sweet devotion and bitter fear - just like he liked it. He busied himself by commenting on the movie and how badly the humans played their part - until he suddenly stopped, mouth parted, the lollipop hanging loosely from his lips. His eyes widened in sharp alertness as his canines lengthened, easily cracking the candy between his teeth as his jaw snapped shut. His ears strained as he heard the faint sound of the glass cap being moved. Within seconds, Baby had your chest pressed against the kitchen counter, his own chest firm against your back, one hand gripping your wrist - the one holding the glass lid from the jar that held multiple lollipops. Even if Baby’s grip bruised, your fear of what he might do if the glass cap broke was stronger, and you didn’t let go. You saw Baby’s other hand - claws extended - near your face, as he leaned over, growling warningly into your ear, the vibration in his chest trailing down your spine. “Drop… it,” Baby growled, his already deep voice dipping lower, causing you to shut your eyes and obey. But instead of a shattering sound, your wrist was released. Cold air hit your flushed skin, and the second Baby’s chest moved away from your back, you immediately straightened and backed away - putting distance between yourself and the man- demon. You held your slightly burned wrist in your other hand, chest rising and falling, watching as Baby carefully placed the cap back onto the jar. Before he could turn, you followed your instincts and sprinted out of the guys’ apartment, praying he wouldn’t follow - needing time to process what had happened. Baby was not impressed. Three whole days without your attention. Instead, it was Romance, Abs, Mystery, Jinu - damn, even the stupid-looking chicken with that cat got your affection. All but him. He was not pouting, fuck you. How dare you still come to their apartment and ignore him - and for what? For him telling you - politely, mind you - to keep your hands off what was his? Baby’s glare hardened as he stood in the kitchen behind the bar counter, but you were too busy petting Jinu’s creepy cat that he’d somehow found down in the demon realm. Baby huffed when, instead of your gaze, he met the tiger’s unblinking stare - one that seemed to pierce through his hollowed chest. He looked away, eyes landing on the stupid jar that caused all of this. Fucking petty human, he growled internally, stepping forward and ignoring the hollow ache tugging him towards you - the urge to jump on you and demand why, why, whywhywhy! Instead, Baby grumbled as he walked over and snatched the cursed glass jar from its place, turning towards the living room.

Once his shadow fell over you, you froze - which made Baby frown. It was becoming painfully clear you weren’t ignoring him because of the jar - and that made him want to both shatter the jar in his hands and fall to his knees to rip his hair out, trying to understand what he did wrong when nothing he did had felt wrong to him. But instead, Baby slowly crouched down, head bowed, eyes staring at the lollipops in the jar. With a steady voice, he spoke. “Here,” he said simply, holding the jar out to your back. He didn’t know what expression you wore, but he knew you hadn’t moved. Still, he remained in place, having no other idea how to show that he meant no harm - that he was… “Mianhae…” he said, instead of just thinking it, his voice quiet. Baby started to grit his teeth, embarrassed at the slip, until he felt your fingers - warm and gentle - wrap around his where they held the jar. His head snapped up, eyes wide and doe-like, meeting your soft gaze - and in that moment, he straightened a little, like a sunflower stretching toward the sun’s first beam of light after a long, cold night. Baby was not possessive, materialistic, or territorial - or any other fancy term. But… He recognised attachment. The kind he felt towards the others, towards the sweets on sticks he enjoyed from the human world - even if they did taste awful - and most of all, towards you. So, when you suddenly withdrew from him, it felt like a piece of himself had gone with you. As you happily enjoyed one of his lollipops - after agreeing that you could take one only after asking - Baby rested his head on your shoulder like a pillow, while the others were in their rooms or out - alive, judging from the demonic waves subtly wafting in between the honmoon. Baby nuzzled deeper into your neck, feeling your soul’s steady thrum, and comfortably sank into the realisation that- You were now part of him, too.

[miange1]

I NEED MORE OF UR OLDER MEN.

please do a boyfriends dad where reader(male ofc) accidentally made a sexual relationship with his boyfriends dad because his bf couldn't satisfy him sexually?

COME ON YOU KNOW YOU LIKE..— drabble

pairing: boyfriends dad x male reader

tw: cheating, older man x younger male, "lana" mindset, feminization, reader is described as feminine, crushing, teasing, hinting, obliviousness, being bored during sex, breeding kink, frotting/grinding, hairy kink(if that makes sense), jerking off to pics, HEAVYYY daddy kink(i cringed too don't kill me brah)

note: i love these types. i never proofread

boyfriends dad, who when you first met him already had eyes for you. the way your soft hand wrapped around his, shaking it and trying to be polite. but he saw it, saw the way you stood still and the way you avoided eye contact with him no matter how hard he tried to look at you. "its..it's nice to meet you sir." it was sure as hell nice to meet you too

boyfriends dad, who adores it when you come over. always suggests that you stay over instead of his son staying over at yours. his eyes were always on you. he'd always ask you to reach high places just to see that sliver of skin, purposely dropping things so you could bend over in front of him. your eyes would have that look, like you knew what he was doing but you feigned innocence.

boyfriends dad, who found your Instagram quickly enough. scrolling along the photos that you would post, whether it be your face, outfits, food. he was always looking at them when he had some time alone. he couldn't help himself, sooner or later cum would be all over his screen and he'd have to wipe it off. no shame to his actions.

boyfriends dad, who was a little nosey. just a little bit. he had overheard a phone call a while back, you were talking to your friend and seemed distressed and even disappointed. "i dunno, he just can't..pleasure me like i thought he would." oh? really?

boyfriends dad, who would take advantage of times you two would have alone. sometimes he would give subtle touches, those subtle touches would turn into not so subtle accidents. unlike his son, he could make you squirm and writhe with a few touches. unlike his son, he could have you moaning for real on his dick. unlike his son, he could have you cumming with just his hand.

boyfriends dad, who fucked you like an everyday schedule that just couldn't wait any longer. he'd have you bent over every surface he could get you on. kitchen counter, bathroom sink, couch, your boyfriends bed. shit, if he could compare this to the first hole he fucked this would be much better.

boyfriends dad, who could never stop talking and grunting while he fucked you. he wanted you to know you were his, even if on the outside you weren't, you surely were on the inside. "don't act all wimpy, take this dick like a man— 'less you a lil' girl, hm?" "daddy's got you addicted, don't he? mhm, ain't even gotta tell me with your words i can already see." "shh, shh, ain't none of that cryin'. big boys don't cry." "goood boy, suckin' me in so good."

boyfriends dad, absolutely loved to watch you come crawling back to him after you said you wouldn't. you'd try so hard to be a good boyfriend, try to force yourself to like the way your boyfriend fucked you, but you just couldn't do it. it was so difficult, you had to jerk yourself off beforehand. you just missed it so badly. missed his big hands gripping at the soft skin of your waist, missed the way his chest hair tickled your back when he leant down to go deeper, you missed it all.

boyfriends dad, who would rub it in your face each time you'd come back to him. saying things like you couldn't resist him, and he was right. fucking right. you'd have to give him head as an apology, listen to him degrade you like some side bitch. "fuck..look at ya, chokin' on this dick like you ain't beg me for it." he would thrust his hips the moment you'd get used to it for a second, seeing the way you could only gargle and whimper as a response.

boyfriends dad, who was just as obsessed with your body as you were of his. he paid attention to every little detail, every little twitch and wiggle so he would memorize it and get it right(unlike someone he knew). watch your tummy fill up and bloat with his cum each and every time he plunged in deep so he could feel the relief of cumming inside like he was getting you filled of his damn kids.

boyfriends dad, who would wish you goodbye and watch you kiss his son on the cheek like you didn't just taste his cum in your mouth. like you didn't want him more than anything in this world.

[kxsagi]

Hii can I request a reader that is always loud, laughing, joking (darkest and driest jokes) but actually serious and responsible in work, like she’s always being silly, but suddenly getting serious when it’s come to her assignment, feel free to do with any BLLK characters but can you include Karasu and Yukimiya?

Thank you so much ily 🥰🔥

“𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬, 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬”

a/n: OKAY THIS READER DESCRIPTION IS SPOT-ON ME, LIKE THIS IS LITERALLY ME

anon are you on my alt??? 

ft. karasu tabito, yukimiya kenyu, isagi yoichi, kaiser michael, mikage reo, itoshi rin, itoshi sae

karasu tabito

the first time he met you, he genuinely thought you were a walking meme compilation. you were doing a deadpan reenactment of your funeral, complete with “my last words will be ‘sybau’ while laying on the floor like you were auditioning for a broadway tragedy. karasu’s like “yo... what is wrong with her 💀” “nothing, what’s wrong with you for being alive during my performance?” his soul left his body. instant love. 

but the day he saw you working for the first time? jaw-dropped. you were elbows-deep in paperwork, planner color-coded, firing off deadlines, and actually emailing people back like a normal adult? you even hit him with a “can’t talk right now. i’m working.” in the most monotone, CEO voice ever. karasu just blinked like, “… where did my unhinged girlfriend go???” 

he finds the contrast sexy as hell. like yes, joke about your own funeral, but also please help him organize his taxes because he hasn’t done that in three years. 

he will literally follow you around going, “say something messed up” like a fanboy just to hear you hit him with another “if i got run over, would you keep the pieces as a souvenir?” 

sometimes he gets whiplash. you’ll be laughing at a meme, and then suddenly turn to him with “babe, did you turn in your PR proposal? the deadline’s 3PM JST.” and he’s like, “how did you– bro i forgot that even existed…” 

yukimiya kenyu

he thought you were deranged at first. you met at a charity gala, and you made a joke about "selling your soul to capitalism, but at least doing it ethically.” he laughed, but cautiously. like you were a tiger in clown makeup. but then you were laughing so hard at your own joke, and the way you wheezed like an old radiator made him soft. 

what really made him fall, though, was seeing how responsible you were behind all the dry jokes. you handled all the event logistics like it was second nature, emailing sponsors, correcting billing issues, and still cracking the occasional “if i die from stress, make sure my ghost finishes the job” in your corpse-dry voice. yukimiya was like, “wait… so she’s the brains and the chaos???” 

he’s a bit of a perfectionist, so he really respects your ability to flip the switch. when he’s spiraling about a brand deal or a photoshoot, you’re the one who calmly reminds him that “you’ve already survived worse. remember when your hair got fried in that one ad? and you still slayed.” 

he listens. because underneath the sarcasm and your “i hope the earth explodes” humor, you always get things done. 

the two of you are basically opposites: he’s elegant, poised, and a little dramatic; you’re loud, meme-obsessed, and unfiltered until it matters. he thinks you’re the perfect balance of chaotic good and responsible queen. “i love that you’re insane, but i also love that you scare HR with how efficient you are.” 

isagi yoichi

his first impression: “she’s hilarious, but needs to be monitored at all times.” you were making jokes about tax evasion and pretending to haunt people through google docs. “i wrote ‘i’m behind you’ in size 2 font at the bottom of every spreadsheet.” “WHY.” 

but when the blue lock PR team asked someone to help manage the team’s community outreach campaign, you went full commander mode. suddenly spreadsheets, schedules, polite corporate emails, and you booked everyone’s appointments like a pro. isagi was SHOCKED. “wait, you’re actually a professional???” “i am literally linkedin-certified. don’t play with me.” 

isagi now just lets you talk your insane talk as long as you walk the walk (which you always do). but he does sometimes worry when you casually say things like “if this deadline kills me, cremate my body and mix it into office coffee.” “love. are you okay?” “no, but i’m still doing my job better than everyone else.” 

kaiser michael

at first, he thought you were annoying. too loud. too sarcastic. too many disturbing jokes. until one day he caught you managing your own press schedule, negotiating deals over the phone like a shark, and drafting a marketing deck for your brand in the same breath as “haha if i get hit by a bus at least make sure it’s a mercedes.” 

kaiser’s respect for you skyrocketed. because that’s his energy – joking around, acting like he doesn’t care – but being a monster at your craft? that’s how you earn his interest. now he just follows you around like a smug little bodyguard. “you’re a menace. and you’d probably make a million dollars scamming me in a powerpoint.” 

when you two work together on anything serious, it’s absolute power couple energy. he’ll be leaning against your desk like, “are you done being hot and responsible?” and you’ll deadpan, “no. but your face is delaying my work productivity.” 

mikage reo

honestly? he was enchanted from day one. you were cracking jokes like “if i win the lottery, i’m investing it in haunted dolls,” while organizing a full event on your phone and replying to work emails with scary speed. reo watched with his jaw dropped like “are you even real???” 

he’s used to people who joke around, but flake out. you are the rare breed that jokes harder and works harder. he finds your duality fascinating. you’ll clown someone to their face and then finish your budget projections by 3 AM. “how do you have so much chaotic energy and still have a retirement plan?” 

reo is obsessed with your balance. he calls you “joker boss” because you’re both unhinged and terrifyingly capable. he’ll 100% show you off at events like, “yeah, she made our whole business plan… while doing a bit about eating drywall.” 

itoshi rin

you physically hurt him. not because you hit him, but because the first time you met, you made a joke so vile and deadpan, he choked on air and stared at you like you were a walking red flag in human form. something like: “i hope the company burns down, but like... on a friday so we don’t have to work monday either.” “what the actual f–” 

he genuinely thought you were an unserious clown. like the kind he’d never tolerate. until one day during a group project, everyone was slacking off and joking around… and suddenly, you flipped into hyper-efficient, eyes-glinting, do-it-or-die mode. you whipped out a laptop, started outlining deliverables, assigning tasks, and saying terrifying things like “i’ve already emailed the supervisor your excuses. now pick up the slack.” rin was stunned. aroused. slightly afraid. 

now he just watches you in silence whenever you’re in your serious mode, trying so hard not to look impressed. but then you break the tension by going, “anyway. if i die tomorrow, bury me in a blazer and tell god i was productive.” and rin's brain just short circuits again. he thinks you're mentally unwell. he's also never been in love like this. 

you actually motivate him. he’s already serious about his career, but you’re the only one who outworks him and makes him laugh like a man losing brain cells. 

sometimes he hears you laughing at your own jokes at night and just sighs into the pillow like, “she’s so weird.” then goes back to cuddling you tighter because you’re his weird. 

itoshi sae

sae heard your laugh before he ever saw you. loud. wild. from the gut. he turned around like “who let a maniac in here?” then you walked past him saying something like, “if i disappear, tell my manager i ascended. into the void.” he watched you leave and muttered, “what the fuck...” 

but the next time he saw you, you were on a work call, serious voice on, notebook open, calling shots and speaking like the CEO of a fortune 500 company. and when the call ended? you dropped your pen, leaned back, and went: “anyway, if this job doesn’t kill me, i will.” sae almost choked on his drink. 

this man is dry. so dry. but you? your humor is even drier, darker, and more sarcastic than his, and it physically pains him to laugh at your jokes. like the one time you said, “my toxic trait is being really responsible while secretly hoping society collapses.” “... that’s so stupid.” but then he’s laughing five hours later on the team bus because of what you said. 

he secretly loves watching you flip from “chronically online chaos gremlin” to “scary competent adult.” he’ll watch from a corner, drink in hand, smirking while muttering, “they’re not ready for her. poor bastards.” 

you stress him out when you’re too funny during serious moments though. “sae, if you die mid-game, can i have your bugatti?” “no, and i’m blocking you when i haunt you.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[everest81]

Even if I'm fine with being called specifically "dude" I fucking dies inside seeing that happen once before I transitioned. I didn't even have Tumblr or really grasped how bad it was but I knew in my gut that it was just... Evil. You're denying a woman's identity for what? Not being able to stare at her boobs the whole conversation? Because you think it's some fucking fetish for others to be happy?

For those who are just on the cusp of grasping it, but can't, try imagining someone doing that to a cis person

This is Kathy. Kathy has been a woman since birth, born with specifically female genitalia and body parts, and has a conventionally effeminate body type by 9/10 normal standards. One day, she gets hired by a tech company that has her testing out websites and occasionally games that are very very early in development.

Around a month or two after she's gotten to know the general group of people she's had to and will work with, a new employee named Toby is hired and put into her group. She doesn't know anyone named Toby, nor does any of her friends or immediate family members. A nephew of hers would gladly tell you about Ticci Toby, his second-favorite creepypasta behind Sonic.exe, but nobody knows any IRL Tobys.

Toby completely refuses to call Kathy by her real name, instead insisting that she's referred to by names like Kyle, or Kevin, ECT, when anyone has to refer to her when talking to him. He acts like someone's joking with him, insulting him, or making up a fake employee when anyone else on their team mentions Kathy by her real name. Toby also consistently uses passive-aggressive language about Kathy —or, should he also be by or going to the bathroom, glares at her and matters things she can't quite catch— whenever she goes to the bathroom, insisting that she should be using the men's room.

On one frightening —and possibly dangerous— occasion Toby physically blocked her from the bathroom by standing in front of the doorway and pushing her away from it. It doesn't matter how gently he pushed her, he still pushed her away from a basic necessity. This was Toby's first strike, according to her boss, but if you asked Kathy, "I cannot tell you how many times I've wanted to fucking punch that guy. He's so fucking annoying — I can never get shit done when I have to work with him in any capacity! Got forbid we have to have a meeting! He's either saying anything about anything else to stall time, or taking my shit and telling everyone that some fuckin'.... Mystery member's been busting his ass off for me in the background, or something...! It's always some Kieth or Kurt or-... whoever the fuck he's made up this week."

Everyone, especially Kathy, is incredibly uncomfortable with how Toby acts. Lately he's been getting especially aggressive, as his passive-aggressive remarks about her and her body have been evolving into outright insults and remarks about how "he's slandering God's image of Adam and mankind". Kathy still to this very day has no idea what happened between them, nor does she have any clue why someone like him wanted to physically assault her, beating her behind her office building with a pocket knife —almost slitting her throat— and scarring both her face and her psyche for the rest of her life.

Toby might have been arrested for assault and attempted murder, but she refuses to walk behind any building that vaguely resembles where she was attacked and almost killed... Because she existed.

I am so sick and tired of seeing the trans women around me being slowly hot coaled into the closet and into essentially being forced back into "Men who would really love being women but Can't because they Aren't". It is so painful stop fucking doing this to our trans women. Stop forcing them to be "Fine" with being called dude bro man he and biologically male stop it stop it stop it you are killing her. You are killing her.

[moecanpie]

Xavier... is kind of mean?

You realize this a bit late, embarrassingly, but he does it in such a way you don't seem to notice until you replay the conversation back in your mind.

Sometimes it's just normal enough to pass off— something you wouldn't really think back to... But when you do, it's like a condescending pat on your cheek, and you can almost hear his voice in your head.

"I'm not trying to argue with you, I'm just explaining why I'm right." He'd say, gently cupping your cheek and wiping at the dirt with his thumb, "I just don't want you to get hurt rushing into things like a child..."

Undermining you, softly. With care.

"Are you sure you'll be able to go alone?"

"Yes," you scoff, "It's not like I need you to babysit me on every mission.. I can handle this just fine."

Xavier pretends to think for a bit, pursing his lips, and you prepare yourself once again to decline his offer as your mission partner — but to your surprise he just relents.

"Mm..okay."

The way he says it makes you suspicious, like he's planning something, but when he sees your narrowed vision glue onto him, he just sends you an innocent smile. He almost looks too giddy, but you end up shrugging off your paranoia to focus on your assigned mission.

So you get to the designated area, only for the wanderers to be a bit too strong, a bit too advanced. If there weren't so many of them, you'd be able to clear the area quickly, but it's taking awhile, and you're starting to get tired— so you bite your tongue and dial for backup. You can only hope it's anyone else but him, maybe Tara? Even Andrew—

When Xavier does eventually arrive, using his evol and dispersing of the few remaining wanderes on site, he doesn't say anything to you— not even an, 'I told you so'— because he doesn't need to. His expression already speaks volumes.

You can already tell by the upturn of his lips, the soft crinkle of his eyes as he looks at you... But he says nothing, and all that comes out of his mouth is a soft,

"Those were tough, huh?" yes. But clearly not for him.

You rustle, feeling the need to defend your pride, "I got rid of most of them!.. Jus' got tired is all."

Xavier looks at you, and he just let's out a soft hum at your words, clearly unimpressed, but overjoyed at the fact that it's only a matter of time before he becomes your official partner.

If it's not a subtle attack on your abilities at combat (you're better than he is, you think, where you strike he dodges), then it's a jab at your intelligence.

"You're so clever. I'm surprised you didn't figure that out sooner." Xavier says, a soft smile gracing his features, full of affection— the sight of it renders your entire brain useless, and the only thing you can really remember from what he said is, 'you're so clever'.

It's frustrating, because it's not like he's really trying to mince his words — it's your brain doing it for you. Remembering his 'praises' instead of what they really were.

You're sure he knows this too, because everytime you see him— he seems a bit more collected: smug in a way only certain people are able to tell. In a way only you're able to see.

It gets on your nerves, prickles at your skin like any annoying itch— especially when he wears a look of innocence on his face, his eyes scanning your form and looking at the slight frown on your face, the furrow of your brows. He tilts his head to the side and asks, full of amusement,

"Wake up on the wrong side of bed?"

I also think some tiny (big) part of Xavier just likes seeing you a bit irritated at him.

[rainrot4me]

Creepypasta Men Twitter Links - Part 2

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๑ jeff the killer

Jeff knew he was right to kidnap you, you were just too pretty to not take home. It’s been a week now, do you think anyone’s still looking for you? Do you even care?

Jeff loves when you try and run. When you think you even have a chance of getting away from him. He might let you get a few feet away, but he’ll he dragging you back onto his cock with a laugh before you can get your hopes too high.

Jeff isn’t a graceful man. The most gentle he can get is when he’s fingering you open for his cock, holding you down and prepping you just how you like it.

Jeff loves when you get all nasty and depraved. You’re so desperate to cum you’ll do whatever he says whenever he wants it. He always makes sure to reward you for being so filthy.

Jeff gets so hard when you let him go as fast as he wants. You don’t try and stop him, just lay there and take it like he knows you can. You’re nothing but a fleshlight to him anyway.

The people in the room next to you could probably hear every knock of this headboard against the wall. But Jeff didn’t care. If he was going to have to spend his night in a filthy, two-star motel, then he was going to find something to make it enjoyable.

๑ ticci toby

What was Toby supposed to when you kept grinding back on him in your sleep? He couldn’t just ignore it, not when your panties are already soaked and leaving wet-spots on his boxers. Was it cause you were dreaming about him?

Toby only wore a condom because you were nervous about getting pregnant. But proxies can’t reproduce, no matter how many times they cum deep in your cunt. Looks like you finally figured that out…

Toby can’t believe he’s never done this before. How has he never fucked you when it feels this good? When you grip him so tight. He doesn’t think you’ll be able to stay just friends after this, not now that he knows how wet you get when he touches you.

Toby knew you climbed onto his lap because you wanted his cock, but he was going to make you work for it first. If you could come on his fingers, then he might just give you what you want. If he’s still up for it.

Toby who doesn’t know how to touch you yet. Doesn’t know where’s he’s supposed to put his hands or how he’s supposed to hold you. But what he does know, is that moving his hips like this makes you get really tight on his cock.

Toby knew this was bad. But when the proxies accidentally gave you too many sleeping pills, he was put in charge while the others went to find something to reverse the effects. He’d be quick, he promises. You’ll never even know he used you like this.

๑ eyeless jack

Jack always enjoys making you watch yourself cum in the mirror. Forcing you to look at every expression, every noise, every lewd thought that comes out of you. Be careful not to look away, he likes to stop and make you beg him to start going again.

Jack knows exactly how to angle his hips so he hits every sensitive spot inside you. You’re falling apart on his cock, barely making a sound from how choked out you are, body completely at his mercy.

Jack knows his way around your body. Every inch, every curve, every spot that makes you cum so hard you’re drooling. He always loves what pressing right there does to you.

Jack knows you can’t fit him inside yet. That’s alright, he’ll make sure you both still feel good.

Jack won’t always admit to his oral fixation, but when you’re dropping to your knees and begging to suck his cock, he can’t help the growl that tears from his throat. Just how much spit can you get all over yourself, huh?

Well good morning to you, too. Jack can barely get his hollow eyes open before he’s looking down and seeing your panties hooked around your ankles. At least let him wake up first so he can really show you how good he can make you feel…

๑ masky (tim wright)

It took forever for you to stop crying every time Masky broke into your home and dragged you out of bed. But when you finally stop begging him to stop and start begging him to go faster, he can’t help but reward you for being so good.

Masky hates when your stupid panties get in the way. But he doesn’t have the patience to take them off, so it’s not his fault if he ruins them.

Masky and you were supposed to take a quiet little getaway trip to his cabin near the lake. So when you stroll out from the bathroom in a tiny little lingerie set, he can’t be held responsible for just how loud he makes you. There’s no one around to hear you cry anyway.

Masky said he was sorry. He didn’t mean to make you upset. There had to be a way to make it up to you, he’d do anything. Anything.

Masky can’t help himself. Not when you’re laying on the motel bed across from him and arching so sinfully in your sleep. You keep shifting your hips, spreading your legs like you know what you’re doing to him. He’ll be gentle, but he just can’t resist it anymore.

Masky is starting to second guess taking that viagra. He didn’t know it would affect you so bad, he can hardly keep up when you’re riding his cock so fast it’s practically going numb. At this rate, he’ll cum before you do.

๑ hoodie (brian thomas)

Hoodie loves it when you can’t stop. As soon as he quits thrusting, your hips are moving to make up for the lack of stimulation. He could almost laugh, he’s got you so cock-whipped you don’t even realize it, or maybe you just don’t care anymore.

Hoodie always wonders when the two of you leave his bedroom why you get so many stares. You’re not being that loud, right? It doesn’t matter to him when you feel this good anyway. You can be as loud as you want when you cum on his cock.

Maybe this will teach you to talk back to him. Hoodie only wants what’s best for you, but if that means being bent over his lap and getting spanked so hard you’re crying, then that’s just what he’ll have to do.

Hoodie never would have thought being gone for so long would’ve made you so eager. It was only a couple of days, but apparently that was enough for you to push him into the coach and have your way with him. Maybe he should go on missions more often…

Hoodie can’t hide the boner in his jeans any longer. If you’re going to walk around town in those nasty little shorts, then he can’t be held responsible for what he does when he drags you back to the truck.

Hoodie knows he can have you any time he wants. He’s earned that right. It doesn’t matter how busy you are, if he decides he wants your cunt, then that’s what he’ll get.

๑ ben drowned

Ben can’t get enough of your new shorts. What is he supposed to do when you parade around in them, leaving absolutely nothing to his imagination. It was only a matter of time before he ripped them off of you anyway.

Ben has worked so hard lately. You think he deserves a little reward for being so good.

You bought this new vibrator for you and Ben to try. But when he takes a hold of the toy, and it starts vibrating at a pace faster than any of its normal settings, you just know he has something to do with it.

Ben always promises he’ll watch a movie together without having sex. But it’s always your hands that start to rub his leg first. The two of you never make it halfway in before you’re completely lost in each other.

Ben can’t believe you’re still cumming. What is this? Round 4? 5? It’s all good with him, he won’t stop until you’re sobbing and he’s shooting blanks. But until then…

Ben is too lazy to put it all the way in. You’ll be fine if he just fucks your thighs, right?

๑ back to my masterlists

── .✦ rainrot4me2025, all rights reserved. ꩜ .ᐟ

[chrollohearttags]

𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 | 𝚎. 𝚓𝚊𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚛

studying has been taking up a lot of your time (and mental energy) as of late. Your boyfriend has just the plan to shut your brain off for the night.

black nurse!reader (fem descriptors), eren is a nursing student (a few years younger than reader also) fingering, neck kissing, choking, facefucking, rough-ish sex, squirting, missionary, slightly aggressive rennie 🫠, daddy is used once, nipple play, calls reader slut, spit play, fingers in mouth, creampie, multiple orgasms

word count: 5.3K

🎙️: some of y’all might remember this AU from Wattpad and I’m officially restarting it bc my muse for the others are shot right now. If you’re not familiar with it, I apologize in advance bc I promise it’s not this smutty and juicy in the slightest ☠️ I’m just in a mood. Also, this is my first fic in almost two months, please be nice or I’ll cry!

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

“You know you play too fucking much, right?”

“Mmmm..nah, I don’t think I’ve played enough. Look at you. All tense and shit.”

if there was one word in the entire English language that you could use to describe your mood at the moment, it’d most certainly be irritable. To the highest degree..and granted, that could have been chocked up to the fact that you hadn’t eaten in hours, you’d been staring at textbooks and computer screens since four in the afternoon and your phone screen read nine thirty..and to really add the proverbial icing atop the cake, this annoying ass man would not leave you alone! Here it was only a week away from your BSN final; two from his N-CLEX exam and here he was bullshitting as per usual. It was how he approached most things in life, his mantra if you will. No need to stress, what’s meant to be will happen.

too bad, you couldn’t take on those sorts of ideologies when so much was at stake! Not when the results of these tests would determine your future as an RN and instructor, and his career as a nurse in general. You’d met Eren Jaeger almost three years ago when he was merely a patient at the office you worked for during your initial internship..earning clinical hours and experience in the field. He was most certainly the liveliest one you’d seen in Dr. Smith’s office and there was never an appointment where you didn’t leave in stitches because he’d made you laugh so hard. However, you pegged him as the rich kid, the son of a doctor with no ambition or common sense...always looking to make a joke out of everything.

so imagine your surprise when you were tasked with not only supervising an entire floor but the local nursing school recruits as well and the first person to come traipsing through those heavy double doors was him! And even more so, in six months time, he’d have you wooed and swept off your feet. That same charm and wit that had you cackling during his appointments were the same ones that made you nearly spit your drink out when you were on a date and eased serious tension among your staff after a rough night on the floor. Just being in his presence brought you immense comfort. However, at the moment…

“Look, Eren. I’m busy, find sum’ else to do, for real.”

you weren’t in the mood for any of it! This exam had been causing you immense stress and it seemed that no matter how hard you studied, retaining information was impossible. Nothing stuck and you were at your wits end..certainly not in the mood for childish antics.

”I’m trying but you don’t want to stop—“

“Maybe because everything isn’t a goddamn joke to me.”

Eren could see the frustration, hence why he had come up behind you, in a half assed attempt to make you scared and somehow wound up groping your chest in the process. Admittedly, he’d never seen you act like this..never even so much as raise your voice at him and here you were, lashing out. Part of him understood your feelings. He knew how important this was and although he wasn’t showing it, he was equally as nervous for his own test. But regardless, nothing was going to change tonight and especially by sitting here irate and snappy. The only thing he wanted to do was shut his brain off and wanted his beloved (y/n) to follow suit..and he was willing to make it happen by any means!

“Eren, what did I just say—“

one thing that he had learned since being together was that once your mind was resigned to something..there was no changing it. So rather than spend time arguing with you, he had another solution!

“..I heard you, I don’t give a fuck about all that right now…’just trying to help..”

“You’re trying to help me by fucking me? Righttt.”

“Yes, I think it’s a very helpful tool for relieving stress. Seen that somewhere in my text book or sum’..”

“Mmm, I think me and you were studying different materials..but sure, why not.”

seconds later, his hand was snaking around your upper body, clutching your throat with the other steadily pulling the chair back and his lips marking your neck with soft kisses. He was adamant in making sure that you got proper rest and a distraction. What better way to do so than to wear you down? Eventually, you’d find those large hands of his snaking around to the front, making home back on your plump breasts..soft, voluptuous and perky as they sat up in your tank top. He could see you visibly enjoying this little tease, indicative by the way your muscles relaxed. He’d continue to massage them until your legs almost instinctively parted.

That’s when, before you even had time to react, he’d spin you around to face him. His grasp still firm around your throat as he moved in for a kiss. Your tongues collided in a steamy clash; smacking against one another as you attempted to catch your breath. But he wasn’t leaving you much room to do so, less known, attest him right now.

“Exactly..now keep those legs spread and don’t move.”

the command was so absolute and matter of fact, it damn near caught you off guard! He’d never spoken to you in such a manner. It was always so playful, jovial and even a bit needy during times like this. But alas, you’d awoken this side of him and you were going to have a hell of a time ‘calming’ him down. Even so, you’d follow his order just this once and part those thick thighs until that plump center, sheathed by the smallest pair of shorts he’d ever seen. Your physique truly was something special…thick in all of the correct areas with stretch marks and a semi-pudgy tummy to match. Your belly ring dangled from the gentle force of him maneuvering you around.

“Eren..I—“

“Whatever you’re about to say, save it…you don’t always have to handle shit alone. I got you..just let me help, okay? I promise, you can trust me..”

he was aware of your past..how mean and cruel previous partners had been so he was very careful in how he approached you. He understood all too well that being overly aggressive would only prove to make you anxious or even shut down entirely. His intention was never to make you uncomfortable. Even so, he wanted to see you give yourself to him fully…trust that he would do right by you and not take advantage of the precious gift that was your love.

he would take great care of you to not only relax but feel pleasure like you’d never experienced it. Although you seemed a bit reluctant, you were ready for whatever he was going to toss your way! Assuring him that you were all his for the taking..

“Fineee…I trust you..”

without a moment of hesitation, he’d detach from your own mouth and move down your neck. Whilst those tits remained exposed, he’d prompt you to give each of those nipples a light squeeze in his place. Meanwhile, his own hands were busy gliding into your underwear, trying to locate that aching bud. That long, tattooed forearm gliding down the center of your torso as a result. It would also serve as a semblance of comfort when he inevitably brought you to ecstasy..

“Mmm..there we go, baby..fuck, you’re so wet already.”

“That’s because you were grabbing on my neck..”

“Oh you like that, huh? I’ll keep it in mind..”

you wouldn’t know it but when you first began dating Eren, he was completely inexperienced. Although he wore his confidence like a lapel pin, he was incredibly timid, shy and nervous when it came to intimacy. The first time you two actually had sex, he lasted all of three minutes before he forced himself to pull out and splatter you with a heavy load. Left a trembling mess, his entire face turned beet red as he just glared at you. He was certain you were going to leave him right then and there; flustered and apologetic, he’d try to make up an excuse as to why he couldn’t satisfy you to your full potential. However, you thought it was adorable! He’d worked up all of his courage to give you a night filled with pleasure and even though it didn’t pan out quite the way he imagined, he had made a complete turnaround since that night and had done good to broaden his sexual horizons. You grew together; learning one another’s ticks and desires, which he knew each of yours to a science. So much so, you practically melted within his grasp and wanted to see just how far he’d take it!

“Open your mouth f’r me, princess…” prompting you as he causally glided those fingers across your tongue. Your gorgeous brown eyes fixated on him in a lustful gaze..by this time, you’d come to completely face him with that tall, lanky frame hovering above. You were all but level with that rising tent within his sweats. Meanwhile, his opposite set of digits were good and preoccupied with your juicy cunt; tightening around the base of the knuckles and then releasing once he’d use the thumb to stroke your swollen clit. Such an awkward position to be in at the moment but it was well worth it for the amount of pleasure both of you were about to receive. Finally retracting the ones in your mouth, Eren would leave you with a trail of drool seeping down your lips and chest in the process. Looking fucked out and starved already without so much as even a single thrust yet..that was the type of desperation and submission he wanted to see from you..

“ ‘ren…lemme suck on that dick..”

although he was trying to maintain control, who was he to deny your very blunt request? After all, he knew if you were dripping now, this would inevitably have you overflowing. Just as the first hand did, he’d slowly withdraw from those tight folds and allow you to clean up the remnants before tugging at that elastic waistband. “oh shit..I knew you’d come around. Here, baby..”

suddenly, you’d feel that same grasp on the back of your head, tugging you forward so that he could align himself with the rim of those pretty lips. The softness brushing against the tip as he rubbed them around…teasing you. “There you go..kiss it—stick your tongue out..that’s it..” from there, (y/n) needed no further instruction. Without the guidance of your own hands, you’d take his entire tip into your mouth and begin to suckle. Suctioning in, enclosing the silkiness of those jaws around his cock. “Fuck..you don’t need me to tell you anything..just make me feel good, princess..like you always do—“

he was well aware of how deviant you truly could become when the need arised. From outside appearances, you always looked so poised and proper..never getting out of character and to some, you’d even come off as ‘boujie’. However, Eren got to see the multitude of your complex layers; dispelling the notion that you were dull or boring. Including this one..the very promiscuous side that would do whatever it took to get hers and make him climax too! When it came to the bedroom, you were adamant and steadfast in what you wanted and he had no issue fulfilling those requests. Eventually, you’d take another couple of inches before establishing a rhythm. It didn’t take long for the very audible sounds of slurping and gagging to emit as a result. You’d gaze up to see Eren’s head resting back on his shoulder blades; groans spilling out in a whiny huff as a result of it all. You could be rather relentless when it came to pleasuring him but he didn’t mind it one single bit, of course!

“Oh my—shit, baby. You take me so good..fucking your own face like that. I love it..”

those words only served as further encouragement and inevitably prompted you to cradle his balls in addition, knowing how sensitive they were. Giving them a light squeeze, you’d continue forcing his shaft between your jaws; the sloppy wet strings of drool pooling down your chest serving as a testament to how much you were enjoying yourself. Where limits should have existed, there were none and it wasn’t long before he’d find himself buried to the hilt of your throat with your forehead scraping his pelvis. With that salacious gaze fixated on him, Eren had to all but restrain himself from forcing a load down your esophagus. But to be fair, this was the outcome he desired so badly and kept pestering you for.

“F—fuck! You’re not playing fair, baby.. ‘gonna make me come if you don’t stop..”

that deep tone with breathy whimpers cried out as he struggled to maintain his composure. However, you weren’t interested in letting up when he so rudely disturbed your study session. He was going to pay for breaking your focus! In a quick slight of hand, you’d shift his member into your palm and his sack in between your lips. Making slow jerking motions until you’d lean back up and coat both with exorbitant amounts of saliva. Seeing how filthy and unabashed you had become for him was causing Eren to lose his mind. Sometimes, he felt as though he couldn’t keep up with you and this was one of those moments. Although this little sexual escapade was his idea, you’d seem to have taken full, unequivocal control of the situation.

“That’s exactly what I want…”

“Then gag yourself on this dick, baby..let that stress out.”

that look in your eyes screaming for him to give you every ounce of his creamy nut…wanting to swallow every drop. Eventually, you’d begin to writhe around against the desk chair, attempting to create friction and stimulation for your clit. Your nipples had once again become extremely hard and the slightest brush was driving you crazy. Eren had heard your response loud and clear, which led him to sandwiching your head between those same fingers that had once curled up inside of you. He’d prompt you to take his cock back into your mouth so that he could work out all of that cum of his own accord.

the pace mirrored that of heavy, rough strokes..ones you’d get to experience soon enough. Gag spit along with loud moans poured out as a result of his brutal pounding but you welcomed the sensation..even increasing it by reaching down and fingering yourself in his place. “..yeah, play with your pussy, baby..” It wasn’t even a full five minutes before you noticed his stride beginning to break and his toned legs trembling. The last couple movements were off kilter and choppy but soon, you’d have your reward in the form of his seed. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, damn—‘coming—“

in that very moment, (y/n) would find yourself held in place by the tight grasp of his palms as he allowed that thick cock to pulsate in the back of your throat. The warm fluid filled your oral cavity until he could muster another drop. The entire time, his loud groaning was permeating the room as well. Once he was able to regain his senses, Eren would slowly withdraw and examine the aftermath. That towering six foot something frame would take a step back to truly take in the beautiful sight in front of him. You were drenched from the neck to your belly button in silky fluids…that wrung out tank top sat idly underneath your breasts and those shorts were halfway around your thighs at this point. To say he’d make an absolute wreck of you would be an understatement.

“Lemme look at you…”

proudly displaying his work of ‘art’, you’d cup those saliva laden tits and squeeze them together with your tongue dangling. By the look on your face, something told him that you were more than happy he’d interrupted you! “Yeah..that’s how you should look. Happy as fuck.” Shoving his thumb between your puckered lips, he’d then bend down to shove his tongue into your mouth for a sloppy peck.

but something also told him that you couldn’t be satisfied with merely sucking him off. You needed—no, you deserved more.

“Are we done? If so, imma be disappointed.”

“Of course not, baby..I got you.”

Regardless of how lightheaded that orgasm had made him, he leaned forward and took you into his grasp. Hoisting you up in one fell swoop to carry you to the bed that was a mere ten feet away. Once he had you flat against the mattress, he’d make haste in disrobing you of those clothes to render you completely naked. He’d follow suit and tug his sweats until they reached his ankles so he could kick them off. Once the two of you were left with only your bare flesh, Eren wasted no time in pinning both your wrists and ankles behind your head. But not before propping your head up with a pillow. A position that led to excitement riddling your face. From this angle, you could watch it go in and out together. With you exactly where he wanted, your boyfriend began the descent down your torso to that plump center. Those fat lips drenched in slick whilst that aching bud protruded between them. He knew you were already overly sensitive so he didn’t want to keep you waiting for much longer but the selfish glutton in him just had to have a taste of that divine nectar.

“Just be patient with me..’need to make sure you’re good and ready first..”

immediately, your eyes would roll to the back of your skull and a nervous giggle arose as well. Make no mistake, he allowed you to have your fun but it was his turn to take control now. Delving headfirst between your thighs, Eren began his quick descent onto that swollen pearl and lapped around it. You’d immediately grasp at the sheets, eyes trailing to the back of your skull as those feet dangled in the air. He’d keep you at bay with a hand clutched around your throat as he continued exploring those folds with his tongue. For a split second, his head would raise to make eye contact with you.

“Fuck..you really needed this, huh? You’re already starting to come..” alluding to the fact that your juices were spurting out as he scooped his tongue inside of your hole and rubbed that sensitive clit. It seemed his skills grew better and better each time you two had sex. He was far more attune to your needs and desires, even more aware of them than you were sometimes.

“Y-yeah!..how’d you learn to do that?” “What can I say? I got a hell of a teacher...” tossing you a wink and a smirk because you truly did turn him out when it came to the bedroom. He’d continue lapping and tracing his tongue intricately throughout your folds until he received the beautiful payout of you squirting all over his face. Try as you might to harbor restraint, it was to no avail and of no use…that tight entrance would spasm before more would spill forth. Just to increase that pleasure, Eren added a finger in hopes of coaxing more out.

“Give me that cum, baby..that’s it. Make a fucking mess for me..” and you certainly didn’t disappoint. The shower of sweet juices continued for another minute or so before you’d lie there, spent and breathless from such an amazing orgasm. Once he’d gotten his fill, your boyfriend would return to the surface for air and to get a good look at your current state. “You taste so good..love making you squirt in my fucking face..” Breaking into a sadistic chuckle, he’d readjust so that his palms were stationed firmly on the backs of your thighs and that he was centered right between them..in that moment, he’d slide his throbbing member across the sensitive core and tease it for a moment. But you couldn’t handle that at the moment.

“Eren, please don’t play..I need you so fucking bad right now..”

nearly in tears from the pending overstimulation and the overwhelming need to be stuffed full of his cock. Your walls would ache and spasm in anticipation; so much so, he’d watch you reach for his hips to guide him in. But naturally, nothing with this man came completely easy…he had to mess with you a bit for all of the resistance earlier. Just as you went to grab him, he’d pin those wrists back in one fell swoop with one hand and use the other to press into your stomach.

“I know you do…that’s why you’re gonna beg me for it.” Immediately being met with a look of shock and a bit of infuriation. Even so, you’d remain there, lying in wait until he got what he wanted.

“I mean, you were being all fussy earlier..I’m not convinced you really deserve it..c'mon, princess…change my mind.” he was so assured of himself and honestly, you were in no position to attest. The desire grew stronger with every passing moment and if he didn’t deliver soon, you were bound to implode. “Fuuuck, Eren! Please—“ “That’s better but not quite..tell me how badly you need me to fuck you.” Besides, when he hovered above you like this, looking so fucking attractive and domineering, you felt no other choice but to submit. So setting your pride aside, (y/n) began to grovel..whimpering and bucking your hips to meet the friction of his shaft rubbing against your wet folds. You’d tell him how good he made you feel and that your body was his for the taking, unequivocally. Finally, that submission and trust he had craved..best believe, he was going to take care not to break it. After your speech, he’d seem content and proceeded to tap the head of that appendage against you before gripping the base and making one full glide across the outside and shoving it inside. Sucking his teeth and moaning as he made place between that flesh.

“Oh fuck…that’s it, gorgeous. Right there..”

you’d release a whimper of your own as you became acclimated to that thick shape. You’d clench around him once before releasing and he knew he couldn’t sit idle for long. With haste, he’d begin slamming his hips forward, quickly trying to establish some semblance of a rhythm so that he didn’t blow his load too quickly. Upon being immersed in that juicy cunt, he’d find his knees buckling from the sensation.

“..pussy’s so fucking tight..and warm..oh God, I love you so much..” his whiny yet deep moans complimented by the sounds of smacking flesh. With your hands now planted firmly on your asscheeks, per his instructions, you’d keep it spread open so that he had ample room to give you both the satisfaction you both desired. Suddenly, his strokes would increase in speed and depth; really stretching you out. Jolting that body around as those perky tits bounced from the force. “Fuck!… babyyyy…” “I know, baby. I know..you just look so pretty when I’m digging you out. I can’t help but fuck you this hard.” Cooing to you as he bent down to plant soft kisses along your forehead. You’d cry out, maneuvering your hands to his back, digging your nails into it..you’d never felt pleasure like this with anyone else. The way he made love to you was incomparable. Even when you fought against it, he knew your body’s needs and wanted more than anything to satisfy them.

“That’s right, princess..let me fuck that stress out of you..let that mind go blank. Just focus on taking this dick.” Whispering in your ear as you held him close.

eventually, your legs would coil around his waist and your eyes would trail to the back of your skull in a haze of sheer ecstasy. You didn’t know what to do with yourself..all except fall apart underneath him. Your body was a bundle of tight nerves, bound together by the building ecstasy and you were bound to explode any minute. Unfortunately for you, he wasn’t done teasing quite yet..instead, he had one more move he just had to try in hopes of sending you over the edge.

“Eyes on me, baby..yeah, I need to see that pretty face right now.”

garnering a smile as he leaned back up and maneuvered his arms to fall into the center of your torso. Suddenly, you’d feel a slight pinch of your nipples before he began to rub them slowly. Tracing tiny circles as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. It was very apparent you couldn’t handle it by the way that cunt twitched around his shaft..you were bound to explode at any moment. Mouthing off about how good it feels as he made alternating motions on those sensitive buds; rolling them between his fingertips, squeezing and even leaning down to suckle them for a brief moment. The sensation lasted for a few minutes before he’d return his attention back to ensuring you got your well deserved orgasm. This time, with a bit more aggression because he recalled how excited you’d gotten when he grasped your throat.

“Oh my God…fuck! ‘m gonna come—“

“Then do it..come f’r me, slut..give me what I want.”

the name sending you into an absolute spiral as he never spoke that way on a regular basis and would never think to disrespect you. But this was exactly what you craved. To be used and made devoid of all feelings except pleasure. Suddenly, you’d feel his fingertips squeezing your jaws as he increased his speed yet again..this time, feeding you the deepest, longest strokes he could muster. The two of you would spout off filthy, steamy remarks at one another through gritted teeth, intense glares and breathy moans as you reached down to aid him by stroking your aching bud.

“ ‘m so fucking close, baby. I don’t think I can hold it..”

“Fuck yes you are..that pussy’s gripping me so tight right now..goddamn.”

Eventually, those thrusts became rather sporadic and Eren was rapidly losing both his composure and stamina. The both of you were so near your peaks that it was only a matter of time before you exploded. You’d try to outlast him but as he maintained that clutch on your jaw, he’d lean down to spit into your mouth, letting that trail drip down onto your tongue as you stuck it out. He knew what was coming and he couldn’t be vexed to continue anticipating it so your boyfriend decided to assist with a little extra lubrication.

“Get yourself off..I’m not fucking waiting..” Without hesitation, (y/n) scooped that saliva out your mouth and onto your fingertips to massage that clit once more. You were rubbing so fast, your head began to grow fuzzy and soon, nothing but an image of static and blackness would fill your vision as you released all over him; voiding yourself of all those warm, sweet sticky juices as they sprayed his abdomen. Right above the incisions from some prior operations..he wore it as a badge of honor quite frankly. That a woman who once took care of him, was now having all of her wants and needs fulfilled. His cock sat idly inside of you until that stream became too powerful and all but pushed him out. That’s when he’d simply grasp the base of his throbbing member and tap against your slit.

“Shit! Oh my gosh..”

“Ahhh..fuck. That’s it..I knew if I got in it deep enough, you’d squirt for me again, baby. That’s my girl..”

“Fuuuck, it feels so good!”

You’d continue spraying until you convulsed uncontrollably. He was still in awe of the mess you’d made but there was still the task of releasing his own. Although he loved the sight of you in such a vulnerable state, he couldn’t let up. Grasping your hips once more, he’d tug you down onto it and continue drilling you with his cock. This time, to relieve himself.

“Hold still, I’m not yet…need to..come inside of you..”

clutching the backs of your thighs, Eren relentlessly shoved that thick cock back inside of you, pumping sporadically until he felt his own legs begin to quiver. It wouldn’t be long before his stride broke so he’d bend down to grant you one last kiss and sweet nothing. Cradling the side of your head into his palms in an intimate manner. With baited, sporadic breath and whiny cries, he’d pour his soul out to you. Becoming almost obiedient and subservient himself.

“I love you! fuck…I love you so much...”

“I love you too..”

“Am I making you feel good? Did I do a good job? Can I come inside of you..please, baby. Can I?”

and without hesitation, you’d nod your head profusely and grant him his wish. But not without sending him spiraling with your last statement.

“Yes, please! Come in this pussy, daddy..I need it.” And from that moment on, Eren fell to pieces. Collapsing his entire body weight onto your own as your legs coiled around his waist, ensuring he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted. His final thrust came in a sharp, forceful thud before he’d begin to pulsate and eventually, release every last drop of remaining semen he had to offer. Emptying his balls inside of you shamelessly. Already spent from his earlier orgasm, he’d let out an ear curdling grunt, allowing you to claw into his back because he knew he’d lost all semblance of control and had probably been a bit rough. However, none of that mattered..you both were utterly satisfied and it was apparent by the puddle of tears streaming down each of your faces. Never had either of you experienced lovemaking so powerful that it reduced you to literal tears.

eventually, he’d finish pumping the remnants into you and soon, find the strength to pull out. Once he was able to gather his own bearings, he’d turn his attention to you.

“Are you okay, princess? I'm gonna go grab you some water and a towel real quick—“

even insisting he’d help you to the bathroom afterwards to avoid an infection and get cleaned up properly. However, he was shocked to find that his words were falling completely on deaf ears! That’s when he’d turn around to see you sound asleep..completely knocked from the events that just transpired. All he could do was laugh to himself not only out of pure pride but the fact that you truly needed this reset. Although he admired and looked up to your hard work ethic, even the most brilliant of brains needed rest. Those test materials, patients and everything else would be there when you awoke..but for now, you could focus on yourself!

taglist: idenwhims @blaxcunicorn @valentineluvu @cocoacunt @charminstasia @star0bsessi0n @mrsackermanfeed @aquabby21

[ceaseless-sandwich]

would like to formally reinstate my past proclamation

The cravings won and will say cassette tapes have a satisfying yet subtle metallic aftertaste, also spent 14 days in the hospital but that's a separate issue..

Not caused by the tape but was a byproduct of my diminishing mental state of the time

Sharing this because I have no fears except all of the other fears I have

By the way don't eat cassette tape it's not healthy for you and is highly not recommended by probably every single medical professional and system members alike I am not glorifying the concept of having a full-on manic breakdown and eating a cassette tape I merely saying that I found it extremely enjoyable but would not recommend it for general living

TW: mentions of - attempt on self , hospitalization , general mental illness that leads you to want to eat a cassette tape

Oh and to specify this has nothing to do with the Magnus archives as a podcast yes I am a John fictive yes I sat they're lovingly shoveling tape into my mouth does this mean that I am a delusional fan no this means that I am a highly traumatized individual whose craved this for years it was going to happen TMA or not I just legitimately have pica.

This is going to sound like crack fanfiction but I just legitimately have a dissociative disorder so bear that in mind as I explain this

I had a really bad episode that led up to me making some decisions which I didn't think I was going to come back from I then in that moment of hysteria believed the fact that because it didn't really matter what I did that I would finally get the chance to eat a cassette tape something that I have genuinely craved for months. Martin fronted had to call 911 confused in the middle of a forest at 1:00 in the morning and explain the fact that they didn't know why their mouth tasted metallic worried that we were dying or that I had taken something terrible

In the ambulance he went through the phone and found the lovely picture above and loudly proclaimed in an ambulance going to the hospital ""GOD DAMN IT JOHN GOT TO THE TAPE AGAIN"" which was very confusing for everybody in the ambulance who just picked up this random guy from a forest who claims that he remembers none of the past events and that a separate part of him had just tried to consume make a set tape and then exit existence.

We were then admitted into a psych ward where Martin told the other patients of what I had done and in response another patient explained that they've always had a craving for VHS tapes which kind of makes me think of tape as spaghetti and VHS tapes as stroganoff noodles.

Yes I'm going to be sharing this with my psychiatrist and therapist going forwards I am receiving help and am in a safe place

We eating good tonight 🙏🙏🙏