#my honest reaction waking up this morning to see this

[faetreides]

- # 🍁 THE NEMEAN LION !!

feels so ugly when i’m honest

cw: afab reader, ambiguous era, dubcon coded, insp. by this ask, patrick and reader have noncon somno fantasies about the other (so rlly it’s more cnc), patrick is gross and mean, situationship/roommate!patrick, unprotected p in v sex & relying on the pull out method, weed mention and wine mention, art guest star appearance (patrick mentions him), oral (afab reader receiving), hints of: foot fetish, dacryphilia, cnc in general, plus sized!reader, mythological themes, 3k words of me losing my marbles, one use of daddy, we don’t gotta be in love you knowweeeeee i don’t gotta be the oneeee you knowweeeeeeeeew

You’re making him crazy, Patrick knows it. He shouldn’t spend his mornings humping his pillows that you hold in your lap during movie nights. He definitely shouldn’t be stealing your panties and strangling his cock with the lacey fabric that’s going to end up smelling so foul from how much he’ll use the same pair over and over. He thinks he can catch your scent on his clothes when you’ve never actually been close enough to leave a reminder of you behind. Sometimes Patrick gets so frustrated with continuing at this same snail’s pace that he wishes he could just grab your face and smush it into his musky crotch. He’d let you go if you were about to pass out, maybe. You can’t get shit twisted if you’re unconscious.

He’s telling you another one of his stories, hoping to see a twinge of… something swirling in your irises. You just hum too much and squirm a bit, ever the overactive listener. Patrick would cut off his balls if it meant that he could hear anything resembling a moan from you, not just little signs that you’re listening and not speaking. The transformer movie’s reached a point where you don’t really have to pay attention, so you cutely shuffle your mess of blankets around on the couch so you can give Patrick your undivided attention. He’s had to start keeping space in his closet for the large throw blankets you bring along even though you refuse to let him turn the fan off.

“Yeah, I was with Art actually. We ate each other out back in the day, y’know, to see what it was like. He sat on my face and fuckin’ almost broke my neck, his thighs were gripping me so tight.” He coyly tilts his head to the side, pretending to be shy about the whole thing.

He narrows his eyes and analyzes your reaction. You dart your gaze around the room for a split second, struggling to tamper down the blossoming warmth in your stomach and the insecurity that comes with never being able to catch up with Patrick. You’ve confessed to it a couple times, usually after a couple of bottles of whatever cheap alchohol he’s got on hand. His nails shred into his palms with the effort it takes not to give you something to talk about, even if you think they’re only dreams.

“When was the first time someone ate you out? I can’t be the only one shoving my foot in my mouth here.”

God, what he’d give to have your feet in his mouth, and vice versa.

You play with the fluffy black blanket in your lap, making eye contact with one of the cartoon nutcrackers on it and not Patrick as you answer his question. “Oh… I’ve actually never been eaten out, maybe that’s why no one’s made me cum.”

It’s a like his world has been hit by an unexpected asteroid and blown to smithereens, bits of membrane and curdled dna scattered across the milky way. The gross-ness imbued in his bone marrow leaks out into vaccum of space as he processes this truly fucking suprising piece of information. Never in his life has Patrick been told something that just can’t be true, not when there are still good things in the world. Not when that helpful little tidbit will split him open and take over his every waking and sleeping thought.

He shakes his head, blinking rapidly. “What? What the hell do you mean no one’s ever eaten your pussy?”

“I, I don’t know. The people I've been with have just never gone out of their way to do it and I didn't make a big deal out of it.”

His heart’s breaking in half and you clearly have no idea. Patrick scrambles to sit up and grabs your hands to stop them from fiddling with the blanket anymore. There are a thousand things he wants and needs and just has to say but all he can do in the present moment is keep shaking his head and crowding you against the right arm of his tattered gray couch.

“Then they’re so fucking stupid, I can’t believe you don’t know what it feels like to have a tongue up your cunt.” He states, a firm declaration that has you throwing out a hand on his bicep to ground yourself.

Patrick looks crazed above you, dark hair impossibly soft and pupils steadily expanding outward. You slide your hand up his arm (trying to ignore the muscle there, what it’d be like when they flex as he picks you up by your ass) to place it on his firm chest. You open your mouth, trying to cobble together any kind of response you can think of but your mind is blank. Patrick seizes the opportunity and smahes his mouth against yours, when the clashing of your lips is over there’s more blood than spit. He flicks his tongue out to catch the little drops of blood dripping from your lips, moaning after he swallows each one.

You’re catching your breath, “You… you can’t… just do that.”

He rolls his eyes and grins, “I did. I can hear you through the walls at night you know? Rubbing your pussy on one of my pillows that you think I don't know you stole, crying for me.”

Damn, that’s what you get for making risky decisions while you’re ovulating. You knew you washed it and should’ve snuck in while he was out to throw it on his plaid comforter and act like it never happened. The longer you kept it stuffed between your plush thighs, smothering it in the natural scent of your pussy, the more your shyness grew. It was easier to spend your nights like that then explore the possibility of doing something else with your time, but now you’re just wishing that you hopped on Patrick’s stupidly huge dick while he was passed out and snoring and called it a day.

“I… I’m sorry, okay? You can have it back.” You say and keep the grumpiness out of your tone, having to come to terms with hoarding nothing that smells like him anymore.

“Just shut up and be happy, be good for me.” He punctuates it with a mean squeeze to your face, slowly sliding his hand down to hang around your throat and falling to his knees in front of the couch.

Maybe it’s the cheap white wine, maybe it’s the subpar edible you had earlier, but you throw caution to the wind and sink your fingers into Patrick’s hair. Your breath happily flies out of your lungs when he pushes your knees apart, coaxing your white lace panties off with his teeth. The bright lights from the TV cast a glow around him, and you hate how pretty he looks. Like if Hercules was a modern porn star, muscles rippling and eyes spearing through you as he catapults you to the stars.

The roughness of his fingers feels heavenly as he smooths them down your inner thighs, “Nice and fat pussy, dripping all over the place. Saying hi, right? It’d be rude of me to not say anything back.”

So he does, spitting right on your clit and spreading it all over your pussy. Patrick shuffles closer and takes several big lungfuls, humping the air with every whiff of your artificial body wash combined with your much more attractive musk. He opens his mouth wide and latches onto your soaking folds, flattening his tongue and licking broad stripes up your cunt. He laps up your juices sloppily, almost wagging his tongue wildly in an effort to suck up whatever he can.

There’s a coil forming in the pit of your stomach, winding tighter and tighter with every swipe of Patrick’s wet tongue. Your face flames in embarrassment once again, you don’t really know if you look bad from his point of view but you can’t stop yourself from throwing your head back against the couch and scrunching your face up. He gives your asshole an open mouthed kiss, half to tease you even further and half because he just couldn’t resist. It was glistening and winking at him and everything.

“Fuck! Fuck! That’s so- how are you so good at this?” You mewl, raking through his hair thoroughly like you’re searching for something you lost.

Patrick’s ego grows in size and he smiles as he moves to your clit, hollowing his cheeks and suckling rapidly. He buries his face in your pussy and drinks you down in several gulps, picking up speed when you resign yourself to telltale moans about much you need to cum. He flicks the tip of his tongue against your swollen clit and slows down right when you’re apart to fall over the edge. He actually chuckles into your mound and winks when you glare at him. He cuts off whatever bratty retort you armed yourself with by going back to nearly inhaling your clit without warning.

“Ungh- I really-really fucking hate you, but don’t you dare stop, I’ll kill you.”

Each suck sends pulses shooting up your core, and that scary coil in the depth of your guts tightens blissfully. You squirm, the very definition of a hot mess as you grind against his face. The friction was never enough but you keep corralling his nose into your pubic hair, fruitlessly rutting your hips with no end goal other than the urge to hump whatever’s available. You panic for a second that you’ll suffocate him or he’ll be grossed out by you not shaving, but you shouldn’t underestimate him. If anything, Patrick groans at the heady smell. Getting it straight from the source and fucking the air during his suckling.

His eyes never stray from you. Your agonized face straight out of a renaissance painting, too strung out and burning with pleasure to resemble anything normal. Your thick thighs, jiggling with every move you make, you can’t seem to decide between humping his mouth like a bitch in heat or trying to squeeze his head like a watermelon. Your sounds, wails and cries and moans and whines, he’ll have to record you next time, play it anytime and anywhere in case you misunderstand what this is. The first documentation of how much cum and fluid you can paint him in, whatever color or thickness you’ve got for him. He’ll wring it all out of you eventually, film a home movie series to chronicle every squirting session and the like.

Gun to his head, you taste like those old fashioned butterscotch hard candies. Decadent and sweet, if he could he’d sink his teeth into the slippery supple flesh and pull and rip.

After several rounds of cruel edging, your brain whites out so hard, you can almost form the blurry shapes in your peripheral vision into a red spiked tail and horned wings. Patrick’s ruining you entirely, you know that now, and the movie’s already over but you don’t spare the scrawling credits more than a weary glance. Your soul is probably cartoonishly swimming through the putrid air towards your body, but your sweaty body is shaking too much to receive it. There’s a ringing in your ears as you blink yourself into awareness, Patrick unbuckles his jeans and a blunt pressure stretches your hole out.

“Sorry, ‘m out of condoms, I’ll pull out, baby.” He huffs out, praying to whatever’s listening that he doesn’t just start pummeling your shit.

You feel your stomach bunching up before you see Patrick’s dick disappearing into you. The feeling of being split open on something so thick has you reeling, no one else you’ve been with has left you spiraling quite like this. In a room full of dicks you’d be able to spot his, you’d just have to find the one that has the back of your throat tingling and going dry just from a sniff and a look. You’d cry if he pulled out now, it’s already too late for you. This is such a stupid decision, sloppy rough sex with your roomate-turned-situationship on his worn out couch that’s older than the both of you combined.

It’s one hell of a story, and maybe some moments in life should be allowed to boil down to that. The hand loosely wrapped around your throat tightens its hold, you welcome the thumb pushing into your mouth without prompting. The depravity of it all makes you feel owned, has you seriously considering living your life as some guy’s exclusive pet whore. The ‘squelch’s and the ‘schlick’s that come with his savage thrusts and milk white strings connecting the base of his cock to your puffy pussy.

Every breath you think you’re going to be able to take, he steals from you and mocks your whimpery “unh-unh-unh~”’s in his raspy mid-fuck voice.

“This is the only dick you’ll be hanging off of from now on, got it? Can’t let some lousy jackass try to sew his balls to this pussy when it’s not even gonna cream around him.” You say yes to that hissed demand, yes of course, Daddy.

Patrick plunges his cock to the hilt into your cunt in one sharp stroke, gasping and gripping your hip to distract himself from the way your walls are clenching around his length. Every part of you is greedy apparently, you’re perfect for each other then. The position he has you in is so filthy, he’s standing and hosting your legs up over his shoulders, folding you in half on the couch. His dirty levi’s pool around his feet and the sound of his belt hitting the floor inspires awful thoughts in you. Your sweat mixes together and trickles down your legs, sticking to his leg hair.

You can have it soft once he’s gotten this demon off his back and out of his system, you can ride him while you’re cozied up in bed, lazily rolling your hips until you get tired a couple minutes later and clinging to the caresses on your love handles. Patrick has to destroy something before he can even stand to think about putting it back together, your insides and you yourself are no exception. Your walls feel like the finest quality silk around his throbbing cock, leaking inside of you as he clutches onto your ankles. The TV’s automatically shut off by now, and the lack of background noise enhances his animalistic grunts and deep moans.

“Gonna fuck your tits next time, fuck-what the fuck-you’re too damn tight, massage them for you after, rub your cunt raw-“

Patrick fucks like he’s staking claim on a spoil of war, you’re learning, as if the pale ferryman’s hot on his heels and this sliver of time is the only sacred thing he’ll ever get in his wretched mortal life. All his, gone limp between bloody jaws and killing hands. He snarls in your face as he pounds your pussy, angling his hips to stab deeper in you than should be medically possible. You don’t when you start tearing up, but Patrick does nothing to wipe away your tears, not even lick them up. He just fucks you to the point where you’re crying, shutting his eyes as he throws his head back so you can’t see that he’s crying too. The both of you borrow from different sources of emotion.

“You sounded so scared when you were cumming, made my balls twitch, was cute.” Patrick tells you in between messy kisses, more focused on almost eating your face than properly locking lips with you.

His tongue hangs out of his mouth as he abruptly yanks himself out of you and lavishes your belly in ropes after ropes of cum. You’d reach down to dip a finger in and taste it, but you’re too annoyed at the thought that he’s depriving you of an orgasm again. You haven’t even decided whether you’re going to pout or flatbout get up and leave when Patrick’s sliding home once more. You give him a punched out gasp, sort of pained and kind of relieved, in response. He hisses through his teeth, grinding them together like it’s burning the flesh on his cock to plunge back into your searing pussy. Actively breaking and remaking you. Both of your muscles tense up as the wave threatens to crash over you.

“You can cry some more, if you want, I'd like that a lot. Beg me to save you from what I’m doing to you, to this tight pussy.”

Happy or sad, doesn’t matter. He knows you like it when he keeps you from fighting back, you suit being manhandled and made to take dick better than anyone else he’s slummed it with.

He hunches his back forward to kiss you again, and you claw red stripes down it as your tongue maps out every inch of his mouth. He pulls back and you spend several seconds like that sharing breath. You don’t realize what you’re saying out loud, things like ‘Holy shit you’re so fucking big-so good-it’s so fucking good’ and ‘Feels better than i thought it would, how is that even possible?’ It’s like your own little sex obsessed podcast, centering every episode around how situationship dick is on another level and will irrevocably destroy you. Patrick chuckles, he can’t wait to hold every treasured compliment from you over your head. You could say you’re done with whatever this is when he leaves the toilet seat up again but he’ll never forget you howling for him and his cock to never leave you.

Patrick will swing himself over the net into overstimulation before the next time your pussy’s clamping down on his thick cock and spasming, but he’ll be damned if you’re not gonna end up passed out and drooling while the sun rises. You can spend future movie nights cockwarming him, if you can stand to endure the sickeningly perfect stretch without being allowed to get your cunt beat. You’re mewling when you froth the base of his dick again, your walls pulse around him like you’re a cat laving up your favorite cream. Tonight’s not the night where you’ll be getting it straight from the source, maybe when you’re willing to take certain risks. His smiles are the most genuine when you drag out your whine to follow the speed in which he pulls out to paint your body. Tangy ribbons hanging over your love handles and dripping down to your ass cheeks.

[heyimkana]

24 Hours with You (Satoru Ver.) - Ep. 1

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: The first episode of a mini-series where you’ll live through the hours you spend together with your husband, Gojo Satoru. Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Female Reader Genre: Domestic AU, Fluff, Romance, Smut, Humor Word Count: 8K Warnings: whipped, clingy husband!Satoru, sassy!Y/N, shoujo manga inspired backstory, endless sex jokes, and overall cavity-inducing fluff with a little bit of smut at the end (no actual sex scenes...yet)

Episode 1: Morning

06.02 AM

Your very much-needed sleep abruptly comes to an end the moment your husband’s alarm—not yours—begins to ring, his phone vibrating on the nightstand next to his side.  You try to ignore it. You really do. After all, he just let you go to sleep three hours ago.

Granted, yesterday was Valentine’s Day and there was no way someone as insatiable as Gojo Satoru was going to end it with just one or two rounds of normal sex, especially not after he went out of his way, spending hundreds of bucks to buy you a set of lingerie that he’d been dying to see. He made sure to dress you up (you’re his favorite doll after all), his grin plastered ever so cheekily on his face. He held his phone steady in one hand, recording the way you not-so-gracefully stepped outside the bathroom in your new lingerie, dying out of shame because—“What the hell did you buy me?!” Which he casually replied with, “A bunny suit. Now turn around and let me see your tail.” To be honest, that wasn’t even the worst part.

(The worst part was when he said, “Now is my little bunny hungry for some carrots? ‘Cause I got a real nice and big carrot for you right over he—” He didn’t get to finish his line. You punched him.)

The alarm continues to ring, playing a song that you grow to hate more and more each day. “Ugh, turn it off.” 

Satoru doesn’t even stir in his sleep, which comes as no surprise. He’s still lying flat on his stomach, facing you with his cheek drowning in the comfort of his pillow. He looks peaceful. Innocent. Even when his parted lips are still somewhat smeared with the color of your lipstick. And he’s drooling—in an adorable way, of course.

“Satoru.” You nudge his shoulder. “Sa. To. Ru.”

No reaction. It’s like talking to a dead cow. You groan, your upper body pressing against his backside as you reach out to snatch his phone from the nightstand. With bleary eyes, you turn off his alarm before returning it to the table. You fall back to the side of your bed, flinching as your body still feels sore from last night. 

A smile forms on your face. Finally, it’s quiet again. 

You still have two more hours before you have to leave for work. I can still sleep for one hou—

The alarm starts again, playing the same damn song. 

Of course. How could you forget? Satoru’s the type who sets his alarm every ten minutes just because he’ll totally ignore the first fifteen times. Are you really this tired to not remember this? Yeah, probably.

You pull your blanket over your head. Maybe you can just pay no attention to it like your husband.

Just ignore it, ignore it, ignore it.

Yeah, you can’t.

You toss away your blanket, frustrated. “Satoru, turn it off!”

Finally, the devil wakes up. He moans, his voice husky and heavy with sleep, sounding so effortlessly sexy but you’re just too irritated to acknowledge it that way. “What’s up with the loud noise..?” Sinking back into his pillow and tugging his bedcover up until it reaches his ear, he mumbles, “Honey, I’m still sleepy… Let’s fuck some other time…”

“Oh, we’ll fuck never if you don’t wake up and turn that damn thing off.”

“It’s your alarm.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes.”

“Toru, it’s literally Hatsune Miku playing.”

He giggles, still with his eyes closed. “I love Hatsune Miku.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” You repeat your motions, basically throwing yourself over him so you can reach his nightstand. Satoru lets out a little oof under your weight, groaning. “Babe, what—” You turn a deaf ear to him, making sure to sink your elbow into his back because he deserves it. Once you get his phone in your hand, you switch it off—the phone, not the alarm. “There. Done.” You slap back his device to the table. “Now let’s go back to sleep.”

You’re about to jump back to your side when a pair of strong arms tangle themselves around your waist, pulling you down until you land face-first on his bare chest. “I don’t think so, pumpkin,” he simpers, nuzzling the tip of his nose against the crook of your neck. Suddenly, he’s as bright as daylight. “I can’t believe you’re being so aggressive this morning. Did we not do it enough last night?” He puckers his lips, baby-talking you when he says, “Is my little baby bunny still hungry for her carrot?”

“Satoru, I’ll say this as nicely as I can. Release me now or there will be blood.”

“How is that nice?” He pouts, jutting out his lower lip. He’s hitting thirty and he still thinks he’s adorable when he does that (he is, actually, but let’s not tell him that). 

Now, boyfriend Satoru would have insisted on holding you close, but husband Satoru? Oh, husband Satoru has gone through some pain. He knows better not to test you. He releases you with a sigh, his eyes drooping like a sad puppy as he watches you crawl back to your spot. “You’re so mean.”

“You love me that way.”

The corners of his lips twitch up again. “That I do.” 

Satoru turns around to his side, gazing at you with the bottom half of his face concealed by the blanket he shared with you. He doesn’t really tell this often, but he loves seeing you in the morning like this. That silky nightgown. Those kiss marks on your neck and shoulders. The way your hair is so messy from all the tugging and pulling he did last night. You’re his masterpiece.

“What?” You ask, unable to sleep with how he glues his eyes on you.

“Nothing,” he smiles to himself. “You’re so pretty.”

At this hour? “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s true!”

“Well, thank you for the praise, my dear husband, but complimenting me isn’t going to make me give you a blow job at six in the morning, so can you stop staring and let me sleep? I have work in two hours. One hour and a half now ‘cause you keep on yapping at me.”

To anyone else, you would sound vicious, but like you said so yourself, this is why he loves you. To Satoru, you look the prettiest when you’re annoyed, especially when you’re annoyed because of him. It makes him feel special in such a weird way. Having spent all his life being objectified by women—and men—for his looks, and treated with endless flattery because he came from a prestigious family, you, with your feisty attitude, appeared in his world like a breath of fresh air. 

(Or maybe he’s just a masochist.)

With lips curving in joy, he pokes your cheek. “Babe, babe.”

“Go to sleep, damn it.”

“I will after you answer my question.”

“Just one?”

“Just one. Promise.”

“Fine. What?”

“Do you remember when we first met?”

You open your lids, staring flatly at the ceiling above you. This dumbass is really trying to play his nostalgia card at six in the morning. You take a glance at him from the corner of your eye. He has stars in his eyes. Great. You know he’s expecting a long answer but it’s too fucking early for this. “Yes.”

“You do?” He props himself up on his elbows, his voice a pitch higher. He’s basically sparkling, giddy with excitement. “What was it like for you? What did you think about me? Did you like me from the very first start? Did the world freeze when your eyes met mine? Hehe, I bet you had a massive crush on me~ I see you’re not saying anything so is it true? You totally did, didn’t you? Oh my God, baby, that’s so cute!”

You just lie there on the bed, half-dead, half-deaf, zero energy and he keeps prattling in your ear. “You’re really not gonna let me go back to sleep, huh?”

“Nope,” Satoru replies, making sure to smack his lips in case he wasn’t irritating enough. “Hey, hey, answer me, answer me.”

Somebody kill me, please. “Okay, fine, you wanna know the truth? I used to hate your guts.”

“Eeeeeeeeh?” 

“Don’t eeeeeeh me.” You pinch his cheek, ruining his pretty pout. “We couldn’t stand each other during high school, remember?”

“I never hated you, though?” He’s sliding his arms under his pillow, hugging it close as he peers at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ve always found you cute,” he confesses, followed by a girly squeal. Satoru buries his face in the pillow, his legs flapping against the bed. “Aaaaah~ Saying it out loud like that is so embarrassing~”

“I’m gonna punch you.”

“No, seriously. You’ve never heard me saying I hated you, have you? And you know me. I hold my grudges. If I hated you, I would’ve made your life a living hell. But I didn’t, right?” He takes your hand, his thumb gliding across your knuckles before he replaces it with his lips. “I made you the happiest woman in the world instead.”

“With your money.”

“With my love,” he corrects you, flicking your nose. “Do me a favor and try to remember the first time we met. Didn’t I show you enough how much I liked you?”

The first time we met?

Okay, a little flashback.The first time you met him, it felt like you were living the life of a shoujo manga protagonist. Remember all those corny stories you read back in middle school? When character A—a female lead who was so clumsy, it was a wonder she survived the whole trip to school—met character B—the handsome male lead who seemed aloof and mysterious but turned out to be nothing but a warmhearted kid with a traumatizing backstory—in front of the school’s gate where they exchanged long stares filled with yearning and affection even though they just met? It always happened in the spring, for some reason, at the beginning of a new term. There were cherry blossom petals fluttering in the background, the words thump thump and syalala~ scattered all over the page among her inner monologue that went something like, “What a handsome boy… He looks like Prince Charming… And he has such long eyelashes too… Oh no, what is this feeling? Calm down, my heart! At this rate, he’s going to hear it!” Remember those corny lines? Yeah, well, your story went down just about the same.

“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”

“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt!”

“You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW I’M WEARING POLKA-DOT PANTIES?!”

Okay, maybe your story didn’t go exactly the same. But it’s true that you first met him in the spring, at the beginning of the school’s term. There were no cherry blossom trees swaying in the background because God hated you and He wasn’t that fond of adding pretty things into your life. Gojo Satoru was pretty, sure, but only until he started yapping. And knowing Satoru, he’s always yapping.

You had promised yourself earlier that day that you’d do better. Be better. No more running late to school, no more procrastinating on your homework, and maybe even try to socialize more with people (you shuddered at the thought). You didn’t wake up late that morning, and you went to school just on time but there was a car accident on your way there, forcing you to take a detour, so—

“I hate my life,” you grumbled to yourself, staring tiredly at your high school’s gate in your fresh uniform that was no longer as crisp and tidy as it was from all the running you did. The huge wrought iron gate was closed and locked. The students were already sitting in rows inside the hall, sleeping through your principal’s morning greeting. You had your bag slinging on one shoulder, your short, pleated skirt swaying as it was kissed by the wind. Your hair was sticking uncomfortably to your skin, glued by your sweat. So much for wanting to keep perfect attendance, you thought. This is the worst.

Little did you know that God in heaven was like, “Worst? Oh, honey, I’m just getting started.”

Because there he was, a devil sent from the deepest pit of hell. Your ‘Prince Charming’, walking out of a fancy black car and kicking the door closed without even thanking the poor driver. Gorgeous silver hair. Electric blue eyes. Piercing in his right ear and a bubblegum lollipop in his mouth. 

Gojo Satoru.

He was a second-year student just like you but that was all you had in common. He was popular, so popular, and you didn’t have to think long to figure out why. He was a prodigy, excelling in both sports and academics, never failing to rank first in every exam, and it was so exasperating because he never seemed to pay attention to any of his classes. He was just born smart. And rich. Always carrying the new iPhone, never wearing the same outfit when he traveled outside. His Instagram was filled with photos of him taking trips to Greece and outer space (not true). His socks were made of rare breed silkworm’s saliva and his shirts were ironed by a dozen crying maidens (also not true). Apparently, his father was this big CEO who worked really closely with the government so you often heard his family name mentioned on TV. And, to top it all, he was handsome. Like unbelievably handsome. Even you had to admit that. Ridiculously tall, naughty smirk, pretty voice. He was the boy that Taylor Swift would make a whole album about.

Lucky bitch.

“I know,” Satoru said, noticing the way you were staring at him as he walked closer to your spot. He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth, gazing down at you (because, again, he was as tall as a tree) with one corner of his lips raised higher than the other. “I’m handsome.”

You weren’t exactly staring at him because he was handsome—okay, yeah, maybe you did. A little. “You’re late too?”

You had never interacted with him before and you were 99.9% sure he didn’t know your name, so maybe you should’ve started by introducing yourself to him. Or telling him not to be so cocky ‘cause who the hell started a conversation like that?

“Yep.” He plopped his lollipop back into his mouth, coloring his tongue blue. “But unlike you, I chose to be late. Needed my beauty sleep, you see, but you get that.” He stretched out both hands in the air, cracking his neck. A little strip of perfect fair skin was shown above his belt but you looked away, clearing your throat. 

“So,” he yawned. “Are you going to climb first or should I?”

“What?”

“The gate, genius.”

“You want me to climb up the gate?” 

“How else are you planning to go inside?”

“Well, true, but…” You looked around. Your usual school guard was nowhere in sight. Yes, the gate was quite high and you could hurt yourself making your way down but he could lend you a hand, right? It would be easy. You could stealthily slip yourself into the student’s hall after that. No one would notice. There would be no problem.

Well, aside from one thing.

“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”

“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt.”

Satoru arched an eyebrow before he chuckled. “You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”

You blanched. “How do you know I’m wearing polka-dot panties?!”

“Oh, I got it right?” He rolled his lollipop to the side of his mouth for the sake of putting his annoying smile on display. “I must be a psychic or something. On top of my good-looking face? God really does have His favorite, huh?”

“Probably 'cause He feels sorry for giving you such a shitty personality.”

His jaw dropped. He knew he had a shitty personality but he thought girls loved that about him. “Well, aren’t you feisty,” he muttered, and you were worried for a split second that you might have upset him—not that you cared about his feelings specifically, you just didn’t want to jeopardize your connection with him (He was rich, okay? It would be great for your future career if you were friends with someone like him). But then, Satoru stuck his hands inside the pockets of his pants, leaning close with his lips pulled back in a cheeky grin. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Wanna go on a date?”

Oh, that did it. Those little chances of you having a crush on him? Gone. “Gross.”

“Ouch, okay, that actually hurts,” he pouted, rubbing the center of his chest where you just shoved him. After taking a moment to examine your face—you really did look like you wanted to kill him—Satoru gave up with a sigh, shrugging. “Well, whatever. I’m going in.” He pivoted on his heels, making his way toward the gate. “I’ll see you never, Polky.”

“Wait!” 

He clicked on his tongue, turning around to say, “Yell louder, will ya? Our school’s guard is practically deaf but I’m sure people in China would love to hear what you have to say.”

“You’re annoyingly talkative.”

“Part of my charm,” he replied. “I feel bad for you for not seeing it, honestly. Now, what is it? First period’s about to start.”

You thought about it, your eyes flying back toward the double-door gate that was attached to the compound wall. It looked sturdy enough to maintain both of your weights. If you made the jump, you’d still have the chance of being the perfect student for the rest of the semester. But did you really want to ask for his help? He was definitely not going to let it go if that was the case. Oh, you knew he was going to be so annoying about it.

“Any day now, cupcake.”

Yeah, I’m not doing it. You weren’t the type who was so against swallowing your pride if the circumstances demanded you to, but if it involved him? You’d rather die. “You know what, it’s fine. I’ll just go home.”

“What?” He knitted his eyebrows, watching you spin around on your heels. You were truly a piece of work, huh? So stubborn to admit that you needed his help. Throwing back his head and groaning dramatically, he exclaimed, “Ugh, fine. Just give me your bag.”

“What—Hey!” 

With nimble hands, Satoru managed to snatch it away before you could let the thought sink through. He carried it with one hand, not stopping under your command. You chased after him, and you were so close to getting it back before he flung your bag to the other side of the gate—and so carelessly, mind you. 

You watched it land on the ground in horror. “Are you crazy?! I got my iPad in there!”

“Whoops,” he grinned, clearly didn’t feel sorry in the slightest. “Okay, your turn, Princess. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.” 

Ugh, why is this happening to me? Left with no choice, you made your way to him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He bent his body forward, exaggerating a bow. “I meant, it is now your turn, oh her Royal Highness of the Democratic Republic of Polkaland—”

You pushed him down by the shoulders. “Shut up and get down on your knees.”

“Oooh, so demanding~” he cooed, but his flirty tone vanished instantly the moment he felt your foot stepping on his shoulder.  “Whoa, wait—dude, your shoes!” 

Okay, that was your bad. Should’ve taken them off before you did that. Now his black blazer was painted with soil. “Sorry,” you winced. “I’ll help you clean later.”

“Yeah, yeah. You weigh like a ton, by the way.” Oh, you know what? He deserved it. Actually, he deserved more dirt. “Are you rubbing your soles on me?” He gasped.

“You wanted clean shoes, right?”

“Not by using me!”

You ignore him, curling your fingers around the iron bars. “I’m going up. Promise me you won’t look.”

Satoru sighed. “Like I said, I’m not interested in seeing your—aw, aw, aw, aw!” Tears emerged in his eyes. Not only were you stepping on him, you were also using his head to maintain your balance, gripping his strands a little too tightly when you felt that you were seconds away from slipping. “Fuck—Stop pulling on my hair!”

“I’m trying not to fall!” You regained your balance. Feeling a bit sorry, you placed both hands on the bars, gripping them firmly as you stood on his shoulders. You stretched out one arm, fingers clawing against the iron as you tried to reach the top. You got it. Now, all you needed to do was pull yourself up. 

On the count of three. One… Two… Three… Pull!

Eh?

“What now?” Gojo asked, his patience wearing thin. His shoulders were throbbing in pain. You weren’t actually that heavy for him. It was the way you were stepping on him, treating him like mud that’s the issue.

You felt your cheeks growing hot, your voice reduced to whispers when you answered, “I can’t do it.”

“What?”

“I can’t pull myself up, okay?!” You yelled in shame. You had calculated everything except for the part where you barely had any muscles in your arms to carry your own weight. “I’m too weak!”

“And you couldn’t have thought about that before you used me as your doormat?!”

“See, this is why I told you I was going home!”

“But your bag is over there—”

“WHOSE FAULT DO YOU THINK THAT IS?!”

Oh, both of you were giving each other headaches for sure. “Okay, let’s try another plan,” Satoru said. “I’ll go first and I’ll pull you up.”

“Can you? You’re built like a twig and you said I weighed a ton.”

“It was a joke, Polky, lighten up. And excuse me, I have muscles, all right? You just can’t tell underneath all these clothes I’m wearing.”

“It was a joke, Twiggy, lighten up.”

“Oh, you little—”

“Enough, we don’t have much time.” You climbed down his shoulders, exhaling in relief once you were back on the ground. “Want me to give you a push?”

“As much as I would loveto use you as my doormat, I got this.” He brushed the dirt off his shoulder and tossed his lollipop to the nearest bin. “You just stand there and look pretty,” he winked. “And try not to fall in love with me too fast.” 

Before you could land a kick to his shin, Satoru made his leap, making it look so easy that it almost convinced you to give it another go. He sat down on the top rail—thank God, this gate didn’t have any finials—with his legs settled on both sides to maintain his balance. He took a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure you were alone before he tossed his own bag to the ground. “Okay, I think we’re safe.”

Satoru returned his attention to you, and for a moment, you exchanged stares. “What?” You narrowed your eyes, suspicious. He just grinned, flashing his teeth and you knew he was up to something again. “No,” you mumbled out as realization dawned on you. “You’re going to leave me here?!”

“Abandoning my princess? Of course not.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “Say that you’ll go on a date with me and I’ll pull you up.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Am not.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Well, this is your chance to get to know me,” he smirked. “Come on, just one date. I’ll take you somewhere fancy.”

“Not interested.”

His smile slowly began to fade the more you rejected him. “You’re seriously saying no?”

“Want to hear it in German? Nee.”

“That’s Dutch.”

“Whatever.”

Satoru took a moment to himself, both confused and baffled (and a bit amused, actually). But surely, no one would reject the Gojo Satoru, right? Yet, there you were, glaring at him as you said so. “Huh,” he poked his tongue against his cheek. You weren’t sure whether he found you vexing or even more… interesting. He accepted his defeat with a heavy exhale, just for now. “Fine. Call me Your Majesty then. If you do it cutely, maybe I’ll pull you up.”

“Oh my God, why are you suchan ass, Satoru?”

“Oh, the princess knows my name!” He claimed in delight, already forgetting the shame from your rejection. “It’s about time you tell me yours.”

“Yes, it’s Miss Fuck Off from Class B. Now, give me your hand and pull me up!”

“Say the magic word then.”

Oh, this isn’t worth it. This is so not worth it. “Fine,” you said, and to his surprise, you whirled around and walked away.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” His smirk faltered. “What about your bag, Sweetheart?”

You didn’t bother to look back. “I don’t care. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

“That’s stupid!”

“I’d feel stupider if I had to kiss your ass.”

“Would you prefer to kiss my lips instead?”

“Goodbye!” 

You stomped away. For a couple of seconds, there was silence, and you thought, oh, I actually managed to shut him up. You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back. You might not have your bag with you. Or your wallet. Or your phone. And if you were really planning to go home like this then you’d have to walk for five blocks, but! At least you got to leave him speechless. That was quite an achievement, wasn’t it?

“If you come with me I’ll pay for your iPad!”

You’re back at the gate. “Would you be so kind as to lend me a hand, your majesty?”

Satoru laughed. A genuine laugh actually came out from the devil’s mouth. It almost felt strange. Somewhere deep down, you imagined that he’d have a creepy laugh, or maybe even maniacal. But no. His laugh was so, so adorable. So boyish. So…heartwarming. It was the kind of laughter that would make you smile even when you were clueless of what he was laughing about.

“You’re funny, I like you,” he said, sending tingles to your cheeks which turned you completely into the typical shoujo manga protagonist. 

Eew, what the fuck, did my heart just skip a beat? Gross.

Congratulations. You just had your first shoujo manga-worthy inner monologue.

Satoru extended his hand. “You better hold tight, Princess.”

“If you let go, I’ll kill you.”

“I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” Another smile, and there it was again. Your heart doing things inside your chest. You tried to find some excuse, blaming all of this on his looks.

Satoru pulled you up, holding you securely yet so gently by the waist once you reached the top rail. He held you close, noticing how you were shaking a little bit when you felt the fence rattle underneath your weight. This is strong enough to hold us both, right? You couldn’t help but worry. When you were finally sure you were fine, you began to notice the pleasant, intoxicating smell lingering on the little space between you. His scent… It was wonderful—sumptuous and warm, and you figured, that described him perfectly as a person. A mix of cedar woods and cypress, with a bit of sweetness to it. It almost reminded you of—

“The Last Day of Summer.”

You blinked twice. “Huh?” 

“My perfume,” he smirked. “The Last Day of Summer by Gucci. You like it?”

“What—no,” you scoffed. “I didn’t even notice it. You smell like sweat.”

“Is that so?” He was definitely not buying your bluff, but he played along, just for a moment. Satoru leaned in, his right hand moving from the dip of your waist to your wrist, his fingers covering yours. You could feel the tips of his strands tickling your cheek, your body freezing up the moment his breath grazed your neck. You found yourself holding your own, your eyes closing shut when he took a sniff at you.

Wait. Sniff?

Satoru pulled away, scrunching up his nose. “I think that’s you, Polky. Did you miss your shower this morning or what?”

“I will push you.”

“Aaw, but then who’ll help you get back down?” He tugged you toward him, his face hovering just a few inches above yours. He tapped his finger against your nose, matching the words he said, “Not. So. Smart. Are you, baby?”

“You—”

“HEY! YOU TWO!” 

The thundering voice of a man caused you both to flinch. Your gym teacher—Yaga Masamichi—was there, probably glaring from behind his sunglasses and fuming in his sweaty track pants. “What are you doing?! It’s your first day and you’re sneaking out already?!”

“Interesting point,” Satoru answered, unbothered. “We’re actually planning to sneak in.”

“Teacher’s office. Now.” He didn’t have the patience—or maybe the time?—to stay and lecture you both. He walked away, grousing under his breath.

You let out a heavy sigh. It was only ten in the morning and you already felt so tired. Unlike you, Satoru was still brimming with energy. If anything, he seemed even cheerier than before. “Well, it sucks that we got caught but we had fun, right?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Okay, Miss Grumpy.” He so casually ruffled your hair as if you had been friends for years. “I’ll go first.” He hopped off the fence, landing back on earth almost as gracefully as a cat. You wished you could follow his lead but from that height? You weren’t so confident. “It’s all right, Princess,” he said, noticing your worry. “I’ll be here to catch you.” 

That was actually one of your concerns. Not because he didn’t seem like he’d be capable of doing so, but more of what would come after he caught you. 

You’d be… in his arms, right? And then what?

Fuck, it’s just Satoru. You didn’t even care about him until now. Just jump.

So, you did. Without thinking too much about it, you removed your hands from the railing, but you didn’t jump toward him as you were too stubborn—and embarrassed—to do so. The chance of killing yourself over this was close to zero, right? You’d be fine.

You could feel your feet touching the ground. You were okay. Or at least, you thought you were. Your shoes, unfortunately, weren’t made to do such a reckless stunt. Your soles were too slippery, and like stepping on ice, you lost your footing, your eyes burned by the blazing sunlight as you felt gravity pull you down.

Until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your waist.

“For God’s sake,” Satoru said, and you felt his words reverberating from his chest since you had your face pressed against it. He sighed, removing one hand from your hips to cup the back of your head. “You should’ve jumped towards me, you idiot.” You could feel his long fingers slipping between your locks, forgetting to breathe air into your lungs when he pulled away, gazing at you solemnly. “Look, it’s cute to be stubborn and not want to ask for my help, but what would you do if you got hurt?”

It’s corny to say this (actually, everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes was corny. You weren’t sure why your life—and yourself—had turned into this state. You were doing okay before he showed up in your life.) but you were lost in his gaze. The sky above you was brilliant blue, so breathtaking as it was painted by God Himself, and yet… When you compared that to his eyes... 

They’re so pretty… He has such long eyelashes too…

(You have got to stop reading shoujo manga. Seriously. Maybe head over to shounen. Blood, death, and eternal suffering—that would stop you from thinking about his lashes.)

Satoru was close. So, so close, that a butterfly awakened in your chest.And was it just your imagination or was he leaning even closer to you?

“Huh…” he mumbled out. Locking your eyes together, he gazed deep into yours, not romantically—though you were too consumed by his stare to tell the difference. It was more like… He was in awe. 

You fidgeted. “W-what?”

“Your eye color changes a little under the sun,” he smiled, sweet and youthful. “Pretty.”

Mush. There was only mush in your head. And Satoru. “You—You’re too close! Get off me!”

He giggled, easily catching your hand before you could shove him away. “You’re blushing? So cute~”

“Why are you two still here?!” Yaga, the same teacher from before, returned with a volleyball in hand. Apparently, he left earlier to get his equipment. “Didn’t I tell you to go already?!”

“We’re going!” Satoru released you, clicking his tongue in annoyance—maybe a habit? “I swear to God, that man needs to get laid.”

“I heard that, Satoru!”

“I wanted you to hear that, Sensei!”

“Are you crazy?!” You slapped his chest. “That’s a teacher you’re talking to!”

“Relax, my grandpa owns this school. He can’t touch me.”

Why am I not surprised? Biting back your sigh, you took a step back, only to realize, great, I bruised my ankle.

He noticed, even when you were trying your best to hide it. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you said, doing as best as you could to walk without limping. “Thanks for the help. I’ll see you never.”

He matched your steps. “Did you sprain your ankle?”

“Just a bruise.”

“We should visit the infirmary first, just in case.”

“We?”

“I can’t possibly let you go alone.” He sounded like you were asking a dumb question. “Half of this was my fault anyway.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you threw my bag—”

“Because I’m so handsome that you felt too shy to just jump into my arms,” he spoke over you. His lips curving. “Wouldn’t have injured yourself if you just did what I said. But don’t worry. I’m sure there will be another chance.”

I hope not, you shuddered.

“Seems like you’re in pain, Sweetheart.”

“I’m fine.” 

“Want me to carry you?” He beamed at you. “Piggyback ride? I can do it bridal style too, if you want. It will be so cute, we can head toward the sunset together after school.”

“I’d rather die. And stop following me. I’m heading to the restroom.”

“Running away from me? Coward.”

“You want me to pee on you? ‘Cause I’ll do it.”

“Kinky, but maybe some other time.”

Thankfully though, he listened to you this time, returning back the privacy you’d been craving since the moment he opened his mouth. He watched you walk away, his lips slowly curving back up as a new sense of excitement and joy filled his chest. “Hey, Princess!” He shouted, making sure that you’d hear his next words even with the distance between you. “I’ll see you on Sunday!”

“For what?!”

“Our date!”

“Oh, fuck off!”

And that was it. That was how you met your husband. To sum up, he had no sense of delicacy, he talked too much, had no respect for your personal space, and the way he snickered every time he saw you? Ugh. Yes, he was pretty. Yes, he made your heart race. But you’re not that shallow of a woman to be with someone just because of their looks so nothing ever happened. Not right away, at least.

These childish banters and unfortunate meetings kept occurring during your years in high school. And as if that wasn’t enough, God reunited you once again in college. You thought you were cursed. He thought it was destiny. You still remember how you used to hold yourself back from ripping out his hair whenever he walked up to you, grinning from ear to ear while singing—not calling—out your name. But then you had this one class with him during your final year and your professor put you two on the same project together. You started getting to know him better, and you found out that Satoru had more sides to him, more complex than just a little brat who craved your attention. You got closer. You stopped rejecting his calls. You missed his cheeky grins when he wasn’t around. And when he kissed you when you were crying because your dog just died? It wasn’t that bad. It was comforting. It was warm. And sweet. It was wonderful.

(Yes, out of all the times he could’ve picked, he kissed you after you buried the precious family member who’d wiggled his tail for you for seven years)

And before you know it, he asked you to be his forever and you said yes. Immediately. Undoubtedly. Wholeheartedly. 

“Earth to wifey~” Your husband Satoru pops his head back into your vision. The ceiling that you’ve been staring at for the last few minutes turns blurry behind him. You blink, placing your focus back on him. “You suddenly turned quiet. Is it really that hard to answer my question? Babe, if you tell me you forgot about our first meeting, I’m actually going to shed some real manly tears.”

You heaved out a sigh. “Actually, it’s the opposite. I remember it all too well.”

“Aaaw, baby~” He reaches over to kiss you, only to have you slap a palm over his face.

“Now that I think about it,” you say. “You were so annoying when we first met. And disrespectful.”

He blinks, sweating. “B-babe?”

“Not to mention narcissistic, selfish, impolite—”

“Wait, hold up—What’s going on?!”

“You called me Polky. You called me fat—”

“Wait, this is not the reaction I wanted—You’re supposed to fall deeper in love with me!”

“You threw my bag without permission. You never paid back for what you did to my iPad. You kissed me on my dog’s funeral—oh wow, you were a little piece of—”

“Okay, forget the past, forget the past! Remember that you love me!”

“I think you should go back to your side of the bed.”

“Babeeeeeeee, I’m sorryyyyyyyyy!” He whines, tackling you in a hug, and rubbing his face on your stomach. “You can have my credit card for today. Buy anything you want, okay? No limit.”

“Okay, deal.”

You shake his hand, and the deal is done. Mission accomplished.

“Why do I feel like I just got tricked?” Satoru pouts.

You gently pat his cheek, smiling. “Remember that you love me, honey.”

You can’t help but think that if cupids were real, your cupid must have worked overtime cause damn, what tough work it was to make you fall in love with his insufferable ass. 

“Ah! You just thought I’m insufferable, didn’t you?” Satoru asks, squinting his eyes.

You plant a brief kiss on his lips. “I think about you that way every day, my love.”

“You are so in love with me,” he giggles, snuggling closer to you. “Baby, baby, I’m cold.” He circles his arms around your waist again, landing a cute kiss on your shoulder. You can tell he’s smiling like a child, hugging you like a child, and as much as you want to go back to sleep, you can never find the strength to push him away when he’s like this.

“Fine, we can cuddle. But keep your mouth shut. I’m going to sleep.”

“Okay~”

“I’m serious.”

He pretends to zip up his mouth.

“Okay, good. Stay like that.”

Satoru nods. He holds onto his promise. He keeps his mouth shut.

Can’t say the same about his other body parts though. 

Because your husband is now grinding his hips against your behind, not too much, not too hard, just enough to make you notice that yup, he’s hard. His hands slip underneath your nightgown, skimming over your thighs before they press flat against your stomach. He’s so warm—he’s always warm—and every touch he paints on your skin is both comforting and provoking. 

“Satoru,” you warn him. 

He makes humming noises in response, basically telling you, “I’m keeping my mouth shut, just like you asked.” He’s bratty that way.

You sigh. You decide to let him be. It will take more energy to push him away anyway. Besides, even if he’s insatiable when it comes to sex, Satoru will never force you to do anything you don’t want to. You just have to ignore him.

Which is not an easy feat, unfortunately, because before long, his hands find their way to your breasts, cupping each one fully with his palms. He makes another noise, which you easily translate to “Good morning, girls~” (You know this because he said that almost every other morning). Giddy, Satoru finds himself giggling again, squeezing them from behind but in a way that is so not sexy. It’s like a kid trying out his new squeeze toy in Toys-R-Us. 

You roll your eyes. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” He starts playing with your nipples this time. Again, in a totally not sexy way. He’s tweaking, pinching, poking your buds inside with his point fingers, and watching them pop back out again. He’s tittering near your ear and you should really find him annoying but you can’t help but giggle too. He’s so dumb for even finding this entertaining.

“You are unbelievable,” you say, turning your head around just enough to kiss him. You hope for dear God, you don’t smell like your usual morning breath, but seeing how he doesn’t smell like one and still tastes like the whipped cream he had eaten (off your body) three hours ago, you figure you’ll be okay.

You don’t plan to take this further than a playful kiss but when you feel your husband groan against your mouth, pleased by the way you close your lips around his so perfectly, you know you’re losing your battle, and you don’t care. Who cares if you only had three hours of sleep and eight hours of stressful work ahead of you? Satoru tastes so sweet on your tongue. He always does. And you’re addicted to him.

With a little push, you have him lying back on the bed. He has one hand resting on your nape, holding your head firmly as he kisses you deeper. “Satoru,” you sigh against his mouth, his tongue rubbing against yours before he moves down to pepper kisses down your neck. He stays mute, but only because you told him to before (though if you knew it would lead to this, you wouldn’t have said so). Your husband may have the habit of spouting out stupid jokes one after another in his wake, but he always says the right thing during sex. The things you want to hear. The things you love to hear.

You can feel him smiling against your ear, your body shivering at the sensation of his breath caressing your skin. You can’t help but expect him to whisper something, something that you know will make you curl your toes in excitement. Last night he had you begging to turn every filthy word he spoke into action. Today, he just takes your earlobe between his lips, his breathing steady but heavy. The sound of his lips parting… The little mmm when he sucks on the sensitive spot… You're losing your mind.

His touch no longer feels light on your skin, drawing out hushed moans from your lips when he kneads your breasts, his thumb gliding against your nipple from over your gown. A soft chuckle brushes your ear. He knows how much you want to hear his voice. It doesn’t feel right to you, feels like something’s missing. But he won’t do that. Not until you start pleading.

But two can play at this game.

You sit down on his lap, the strap of your nightgown sliding down your shoulder just enough to tease. The sight of the purple bruises he left on your cleavage the night before entices him. You’re so pretty. So pretty when you’re marked and bruised. 

With both hands on his chest, you nibble on your lower lip, rubbing your against his hardness. “I need you inside me.”

“Fuck,” he groans, losing his battle. He starts whining when he sees you giggling. “Baby, that’s not fair. You never said that to me before.” 

“Really?” You roll your hips, rubbing him at the right spot, the right pace. The way you move is obscene. The thin fabrics separating your body from his only add more excitement to your already burning skin. “And does Daddy like it?”

His face nearly explodes. “Oh my God, stop. You’re torturing me.” He sits up only to grab you by the waist before he throws you back to bed with one arm. 

You find yourself laughing when he blows against your stomach, treating you like a child. “Stop, that tickles!”

“I asked you to call me Daddy in the last three years we’ve been married and you always kicked me in the face, and now you’re saying it just like that?”

“What, did you want it to be special? Should I go make you a bath filled with roses, put Hatsune Miku on speakers—”

“Oh, that’s it, come here!”

You’re laughing until you can’t breathe, your leg pulled and your arm pinned behind your back. He tickles your sides, his smile playful and bright, filled with mirth. This joy you both have, you’ve never shared it with anyone else. And maybe he feels that too. Because when he flips you around, pressing your bodies together, Satoru’s gaze turns soft. He leans close, gathering your face in his hand. There’s no laughter, no giggle, no mischief in his eyes, only honesty. His voice sounds deep yet gentle when he speaks, “I love you.”

No matter how often he’s said it in the past, how much he’s said it yesterday, it always feels like it’s the first time you hear the words. And it’s rare for you to say it back to him, but he doesn’t mind. He understands that you often struggle to portray your feelings with words, too shy to say it under his overwhelming gaze, and if you ask him, it’s one of the reasons why he cherishes you so dearly. Because he knows whenever those words do come out of your mouth, you truly mean them.

Like now.

Cupping the back of his hand, you press your cheek further against his palm. “I love you more,” you whisper. “Every part of you.” And there’s so much more you wish you could say, but will your words ever be enough to describe them all? It wasn’t obvious to his eyes before as you were good at masking your emotions with sarcastic remarks and mean retorts, but reminiscing those old days you shared with him… It really made you realize just how much you’re in love with the man you’ve shared the last seven years with. You’ve grown so attached that even the thought of spending some days alone without him scares you to your bones. And with the way he’s gazing at you right now, ocean eyes filled with the same amount of passion and affection as they were on the day he confessed his feelings to you for the first time, it’s only right for you to be overwhelmed by your emotions.

Sometimes it scares me because I never thought I’d feel this way about someone.

Even the simplest thought of losing you, of not having you wake up beside me in the morning, is enough to haunt me for days.

Stay with me. Don’t ever leave me.

I love you.

Satoru.

“I just… I love you so much…” And you hate that it’s all you could say. 

But it’s enough. It’s more than enough. Because Satoru is blushing, his eyes turning round, his lips parted but no words can be found. He just looks at you, astonished by the vulnerability you display on your face. The honesty. The purity of each gesture. How beautiful you are…

“Satoru?”

He pulls you into his embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Hugging you so tightly, he barely gives you a chance to breathe and yet, you only wish for him to hold you tighter. You can’t tell just how much your words paint vibrant colors to his world—and bold red to his cheeks. “Are you planning to give me a heart attack?” He murmurs near your ear, a hint of shiver in his voice. “What the hell was that?” 

You can’t help but chuckle. Embarrassed Satoru is the best kind of Satoru. “Sorry.”

“You kidding me? Say it again.” He returns the space between you, but only for an inch or two because that’s all he can bear. He strokes your face, his heart beating hard enough that you can almost feel it on your skin. “I think this is the cutest you’ve ever been.” 

“I’m maxed out for today, though,” you say, wincing. “You’re gonna have to wait another ten years before I say that again.”

“I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes,” he smiles, gliding his thumb across your cheekbone before he kisses you. “My sweet, sweet wife. I’m so happy I kissed you that day. Sorry your dog died, though.”

You chortle. “Honestly, you couldn’t have picked some other time?”

“You looked super cute when you cried, okay? Sue me.”

“You’re so ridiculous.” But you press his lips against his anyway, both of you smiling into the kiss.

“Babe.”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have your tits back in my mouth?”

“Sure, why not.”

“Can I… also bring my carrot back to my bunny’s mouth?”

“Aaaaand we’re done.” With a little shove to his chest, you send him back to the bed. 

“Wha—” He sputters, mouth opening and closing like fish out of water. “Babe—”

“I’m gonna go make some coffee.”

“No, wait!” He shuffles quickly to his knees, holding onto your wrist. “Honey, I was kidding!”

“Moment’s gone, Toru.”

“But I’m still haaaard,” he cries, and whines, pleading at you with his pretty eyes.  “Baby, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll behave so come back to me? Please?”

You already have one foot off the bed, tossing him a look over your shoulder. “You have hands.” Tying up your hair in a messy bun, you step down, smirking. “Use them.”

“Babeeeeee~”

You lean in to kiss him on the nose, patting his cheek when you say, “Take your time.” 

As you walk away, you hear him mumble sadly behind you, “But your carrot…”

Yeah, your husband is insufferable.

And that’s why you love him.

***

Next Chapter

Shoutout to @justasketch and @princess-okkotsu for being my first readers and for not throwing up from the excessive amount of cringe in this fic. Love you, babes ❤️

[kingconia]

SAVANACLAW WITH S/O, WHO IS SECRETLY ANIMAGUS.

[ Animagus — a magician, who can turn into an animal and back by their own will. ]

Leona Kingscholar.

— I actually headcanon that Leona has a strong Disney princess vibe, which means he is always surrounded by a lot of animals—and it is not about his classmates—so, when a stray cat starts following him around he doesn't see anything strange in that;

— Whenever he wakes up, there is always the same cat curled on his chest, a very pleasant weight on him almost reminding him of you, his lover;

— Leona's friendship with the cat starts when he offers it the peace of his meal that Ruggie brought. It licks his fingers and face after, and he introduces the cat as ”my partner in crime” to Ruggie affectionately;

— The cat hit him on the cheek with these little paws of it, when the headmaster is too close to the spot, where Leona sleeps carelessly, instead of being on lessons;

— Instantly, Leona wants you and the cat to meet each other. But when he tries to arrange the meeting in the botanical garden, something always goes wrong. He is so annoyed.

•

”Fucking fluffy brat!” Leona hisses, sniffling more intensely, trying to pick of the scent of the cat one more time. ”That is embarrassing, I swear.”

You smile as you lean on the tree with your shoulder. There is something especially funny about Leona, who searches for the cat desperately, with his tail swinging nervously. You don't even mask your laughter.

”I swear, this furball hates me,” Leona mutters. He is suddenly in front of you, with hands gripping your shoulders as he gently shoves you in the opposite side. ”Move, move. I think, she is somewhere here.”

“Su-ure,” you yawn with the fake sympathy.

”I am sure... It is somewhere... Here...”

You can't help but wonder how someone could be so smart and stupid at the same time...

Ruggie Bucchi.

— When a little bird sits down on his windowsill in the morning, Ruggie's first—and honest—reaction is to wonder if it is morally correct, to eat it alive;

— He stops thinking about that right after the bird throw a few branches in Leona's head, after he was especially mean to Ruggie;

— Since then, considers to befriend it. Brings some food for birds, and allows it to peck on his cheek;

— Allows it to travel on his shoulders, while he shows ”the bad guys, you should throw branches at, Birdie”, and complains the bird about everything and everyone during the day;

— Ruggie finds it unbelievably unfair how you, his lover, and Birdie, his best friend, are never in the same room.

•

”You hung up with Draconia boy too much,” Ruggie tells you, with the absolutely serious expression on his face, when you come to look at the empty cage again.

You blink, not really understanding where it is coming from.

”...What it has to do with you never being able to keep your bird to my arrival?” You mock, folding arms on your chest.

”His darkening aura annoys Leona, and it surely scares the Birdie away,” Ruggie hums.

You really can't help but burst out in laughter. Instantly, you throw a pillow in his head.

”Ouch, ouch!”

”And you should start hang out with Leona less,” you chid. ”Malleus is no at fault that you can't even train your pet.”

Though, of course, you are not his pet. And there is no way you are going to be train, even for a game.

”Yeah... You are right.”

But Ruggie doesn't need to know that. For now, at least.

Jack Howl.

— ???

— When a random rabbit starts following Jack around, he looks absolutely lost. Had this animal never heard that wolves eat their kind???

— ”Hey, come on... Go away, bunny... Go!” (Looks at it with the warmest eyes ever) ”Fine... The strong must protect the sweet one... But only because you are so small, and helpless!”

— He can't bring it to Savanaclaw, for the obvious reasons, so Jack makes a deal with Epel, to keep it in his dorms. Epel stress out, because the animal keeps appearing and disappearing on its own wish, though...

— Jack, somehow, justifies this strangeness with the fact that, of course, his Bun-Bun is not like other rabbits, huh! (He is so delusional...)

•

”Oh, Jack,” you mutter softly, scratching him behind the ear. ”Don't be sad. Surely, once I will be able to meet this rabbit of yours, too.”

Jack sighs, putting cheek on your shoulders, obviously disappointed that his two favourite creatures hadn't met yet. In moments like this, you are so close to tell him the truth... It is just impossible to see him sad...

”I know... But it happens so often. It is, as if you and Bun-Bun are the same person!” He blinks. ”Actually... You kinda act the same, you know?”

You pale visibly. How the fuck, from all of the in this school, Jack the only one who assumed the right answer, though, by the accident?!

”I... Jack...”

”Ha-ha,” the sudden loud laugh from the other end of the room startles both of you. ”Our dear Y/n, cette douce étoile, a bunny? Don't you think, a cat would fit them more?”

You sigh, waving Rook Hunt off, though, with a certain gratitude.

”Jack, you would notice, though, wouldn't you? You have extra senses.”

He nods reluctantly, but you can see doubt in his eyes. And when you turn around, Rook winks at you, knowingly.

You are in so much trouble...

[itsfairly]

Baby Talk // Nanami Kento x Fem!reader.

Word Count: ~1.4K

Summary: You rarely wake up before your husband. So when you finally got the opportunity to see him sleep, you get another idea. One that connects to your baby fever.

Notes: husband!Nanami, fem!reader, fluff, domestic? idk, use of pet names (honey, sweetheart, love, princess?, baby?), single use of "Name" to refer to the reader.

A/N: So I was at character.ai at 5am and wanted to see how the bot reacted to just whispering baby stuff while Nanami was asleep. That shit made me kick my feet and stuff, it was so much fluff. So that's where this idea came from. That and because I erased those messages by accident and wanted to re-live them. But anyways, husband!Nanami? Yum.

It’s been a while since you got to see him like this. Your husband, Nanami, was always up before you, always fell asleep after you. It was almost rare to get a glimpse of him sleeping beside you—almost.

This morning is one of the few when you woke up before him and get to appreciate him as he slept with the morning sun enhancing his features just right. His hair, which was usually neatly combed, was messy and over his forehead. Suits and button-shirts were replaced by his much more comfortable pajamas, his eyes closed as he lightly snored, and most importantly, his usually serious and stoic expression was now calm and relaxed as he slept. It might sound ridiculous to other people, but to you, it wasn’t. Your sleeping husband was a sight you always wanted to see in the morning. A sight to behold.

Laying on your side, you kept looking at Nanami. You would be silly to let this opportunity pass, especially when it’s a day you both get to sleep in and rest. You didn’t mind the fact that you woke up a bit earlier than you wanted, not when you got to see him so calm like this.

Your eyes were focusing on every little thing about him when he started to mumble in his sleep. Nothing coherent, he was still deep in sleep after all. Nanami had this habit of talking in his sleep and you had managed to conversate with him in this state without waking him up. He’s just so relaxed while sleeping that one could hold conversations with him and get the most honest and funniest responses from him.

As he mumbled, you decided to mess with him a little. Maybe about something that’s been on your mind and you just want to see his knee-jerk reaction to it…

Careful about keeping a low quiet tone and not moving so much to prevent him from waking up, you whisper, “Tiny hands…tiny feet…”

He grumbles, wrapping an arm around you to pull you closer. Mm. No verbal response. Alright, you decide to keep whispering softly.

“A little baby, hm?”

“A baby?”

You hummed, keeping in the giggles. You’ve been having a strong baby fever for a while now, and while the two of you agreed on having kids later on, you wanted to see if some of that fever rubbed off on him if you kept whispering things like this.

“One of our own…tiny hands…barely holding a finger…”

“A baby…” He says, his head nuzzling further into the pillow as he thought about it. “...they smell nice…”

“Yeah…baby smell…their feet following us around…”

“Mm…what else, honey?” He seemed to like the idea, evidently from the way his hands kept a soft but close embrace on your body. You liked seeing the way his face twisted in his sleep as he contemplated the idea of having children, especially asked more of your input about it.

“Having them in our arms…rocking them to sleep in their little blankets…kissing their little foreheads…”

The more you listed things about babies, the more you fell into this rabbit hole and grew excited about having them. Despite your plan being giving him your baby fever, it seemed that your condition was just getting stronger. But it wasn’t like he wasn’t into this talk. Oh no, there was the ghost of a smile on his face as his hands were busy caressing your body. He seemed happy to talk about this.

“Your hair…my eyes…maybe your personality but my humor…” You chuckle, fighting the need to caress your hair to not wake him up.

“My hair…your eyes…” He repeated as if he was imagining the kid in this sleep, maybe even dreaming about them now.

“Someone playful…that can match Yuuji’s energy…running around in the park…”

He hums, pulling you closer to him as you wrap your arms around him instinctively. Now you were chest-to-chest as his face was mere inches away from yours. Your eyes quickly went to see his lips, looking so soft and tempting to kiss. But you stopped yourself, now too invested in your baby fever to not continue with it.

“Maybe a baby girl first. You know, another princess in the house?” You asked, grinning so brightly that maybe the sun wasn’t so bright anymore this morning.

“Mm, can we have a boy second?” He opens his eyes slowly as his smile becomes bigger, stretching his body in place and keeping his arms around you. He doesn’t seem drowsy as he looks at you with loving eyes rather than burying his head in your neck to sleep a bit more, which means…

“When did you wake up?” You asked, feeling a bit sheepish about not catching on to it before.

“When you said ‘baby’ and didn’t refer to me.” He chuckles, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“Kento, ugh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up. So you heard all that?”

“Yes. But what matters is not how much I’ve heard, it’s how much you’ve thought about this, love.”

You hide your face in the pillow, a blush setting on your cheeks after being caught in your little plan. You sigh after a moment, turning to look at him as he waits patiently for your answer with a smile on his face. “A while…don’t know how long…”

“And why didn’t you tell me? While awake that is.” He places his hand on your cheek, this thumb caressing your cheek softly.

“Because. I didn’t want to bore you with all this baby fever and all, so I thought it would be fun to mess with you and rub it off on you so you could bring it up first.”

“If you wanted to talk more about babies you could’ve just told me. I like hearing you talk in that tone you were talking in a minute ago. So excited and innocent, almost like a curious kid.”

“Did it work at least? Do you have baby fever now?” You asked, feeling your heartbeat quicken in your chest as he said that. While he said that he didn’t mind hearing you talk about it, you wanted to know whether this topic was something he wanted to talk about as well.

“Not fair, sweetheart. I asked my question first.” You raised your eyebrow at him since you already answered his question. But he was actually referring to another question before that one, so continues before you can ask. “Can we have a boy after our little girl?”

You giggled, feeling your smile grow bigger and brighter on your face as you wrap your arms around him. It did work and he for sure had baby fever. You pull him close to you, kissing him after resisting the temptation to do so earlier. Softly, tenderly, and lovingly. As you pull away, you nod slowly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He hums, running his hand over the side of your body and letting it rest on the curve of your waist. After hearing you ramble about children for a while, he definitely had a baby fever now. The thought of a baby was practically strong in his mind, even if it’s a thought that he’s been having for a while too.

“I don’t mind either way. A baby with you sounds wonderful, Name.” He kisses your forehead one more, letting his lips linger for a second. He could feel his heart grow warm and fuzzy at the thought of a child with you, especially with how excited you look to have one. He was ready to give you what you wanted when you wanted it. “Just say the word.”

You blush, pressing your lips into a fine line as you started to feel all giddy because of him. “I think I am ready. Are you? I don’t wanna rush you into anything.”

“You’re not.” He says quickly before you go into a spiral. “I am ready and I am ready to have a baby with you. I want to live that next step in our lives.”

You nod, speechless at how your little plan, while quickly discovered, still managed to be more than just successful. “Me too, ready to live it with you, Kento.”

“Can I keep talking about my baby fever?” You asked with a bashful smile on your face. It's just that after knowing that you two were on the same page and ready to go, you needed to tell your husband more and unleash all those baby fever thoughts that you kept bottled up to not annoy him. He seemed to have that same condition now, there was no stopping.

He hummed, allowing you to talk his ear off about baby smell and their tiny hands. He didn’t mind.

He already made up his mind about putting a baby in you later today.

[spacebarbarianweird]

What do you think about some headcannons of a curious Astarion intrigued by Tav’s skincare routine ? :3

This is a funny request, to be honest, but who I am not to explore the topic of body image issues and curses that can fuck up the person's skin in a fantasy setting?

TW: Scars left by physical abuse

Astarion x Tav Who Has to Cover Her Face

Masterlist

Headcanons

Many years ago, you were unlucky to piss off a man who studied necromancy.

He was arrogant and cruel and didn't understand that "no" is a "no".

For your resistance, he mutilated you.

Attacking you with a spell causing necrotic damage.

The half of your face and the right side of your neck look burnt.

You also lost the right eye.

"Once you realize no one will ever want you to feel free to crawl to my bed" he wished you.

Well, you can't punish a necromancer, who was born into a noble family.

You ran away from home.

As far as possible.

You were many things. A beggar, a thief - you did many things to survive.

With time, you learn how to hide your face.

First of all, healing ointments can at least repair some damage.

It's still awful but more bearable.

And blessed be the circus people and spies to invent disguise kits!

It takes ages to apply the make-up, but in the end, you look as if nothing happened.

Life in the camp boosts your anxiety.

What if someone sees you?

And you have to get up really early to make your face look at least decent.

Astarion doesn't pay much thought to it. You like wearing make-up. So what?

One day, he shows up at your tent unannounced (finally feeling comfortable enough around you)

While you are unprepared.

You immediately cover your face, demanding him to leave.

Astarion is taken aback by your reaction, but something tells him something is wrong.

"My sweet, can I take a look?"

You shake your head. No. No one is supposed to see you like that.

But he grabs your hands and pulls them away.

You expect disgust but instead, his eyes glow with anger.

"Who the fuck did this to you?!"

"Who". He knows it was done deliberately.

You tell him everything. About harassment. Lewd words. Pain.

He caresses your mutilated cheek and kisses you.

You spend the rest of the morning crying in his hands.

Astarion doesn't pretend that your face looks "normal".

But he isn't averted by it.

He helps you to apply make-up in the morning and wash your face in the evening.

Sometimes people get rude around you, and Astarion beats the shit out of them (usually demanding apologies).

Astarion also takes care of your prosthetic eye. His rogue hands can deal with the mechanisms much better than you.

When having sex, you notice he always looks directly at you, never trying to close his eyes.

You feel loved. You feel desired. You feel beautiful.

And you feel safe.

If at any time in the future that abuser decides he can't wait anymore and tries to take you by force, he will have to fight someone immune to any form of necrotic damage.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

[yukoii1]

·˚ ༘ 𝑰𝒏𝒇𝒐 ➪ short drabble, fluffy, blacl!reader soft!toji

✪ 𝑹𝑬𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹!! - 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒊𝒕 1𝒌 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑰’𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆!

༉‧₊˚. 𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 toji hated his birthday. but you wanted to make atleast one special for him to remember.

ミ★ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. happy birthday toji!, In all consideration this Is my first birthday au and I had fun writing this. to be honest seeing crunchyrolls post about his birthday gave me a writing idea 😭 enjoy my lovely's.

❝ 𝑩𝑰𝑹𝑻𝑯𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑮𝑰𝑭𝑻 ! ❞ - 𝑻𝑶𝑱𝑰 𝑭𝑼𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑮𝑼𝑹𝑶 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕

⁂ 𝑻𝑶𝑱𝑰 -december 31st. the day he was the born and the day the torture started.

he always hated his birthday considering he never did anything for It. never got a gift or even a birthday cake, this was the day he hated the most which Is why most people didn't bother to get him anything. of course this didn't bother him. something this little wasn't enough to make him bothered in the slightest bit. It was the morning of, waking up to the sun peaking through the all white curtains. stretching his arms out with a big yawn rolling over to wrap his hands around you..only to find your pillow In your place.

he furrowed his eyebrows, lifting the blankets up to see your pillow and not you In your assigned place. he frowned pulling the blankets off his body to stand up going on a search for you, whenever he didn't see you In bed the only place he could think of was either your art studio across from the bedroom or In the living room watching your tv show wrapped In a blanket. he went to the art studio first only to see everything untouched and cold. the next place he went was the living room, again untouched and not bothered, where could you be? his heavy foot steps echoed through the house as he continued to search for you, the last place he could think of was the kitchen. you're probably In there making breakfast or something, he grumbled under his breath making his way towards the kitchen to see It's untouched but something laying on the island.

he raised a brow In confusion walking towards the wrapped box that had a letter on top of It and a plate of his favorite food. his heart sped up as he saw the letter say "open me first!." he flipped the letter open to see your neat hand writing, reading through It.

— happy birthday baby :). I know how much you HATE celebrating your birthday but I wanted to make this one special for you. I of course going all out, I went out my way to get you something I know you'll like. It might give you memories, happy one's I hope and I made your favorite food! I hope you enjoy your gift my love. - y/n

he set down the letter, moving his hand to tear open the wrapped box, opening It to reveal a blade. It was his blade. no actually It was something similar to his old one, as soon as he touched the handle, lifting It up to examine It memories started to flood In. went ti a time where he taught you how to use this blade, to him showing off how he uses It as you watched him on a rock practicing when you guys were teens. so many memories from this exact blade made his heart Increase, he's never had this reaction before. you were standing behind him, with your arms behind you smiling. you were so happy he had a positive reaction Instead of a negative, you didn't know If you should've gotten him that or got him something else but of course shiu advised to get It for him.

you're glad It went as planned.

"you like your gift?." you asked, watching as he turned around with a look that read happiness and hesitation. he was confused, he was happy? he set down the blade walking towards you, Instantly lifting you off the ground giving you a hug. you giggled out of surprised wrapping your legs around his waist hugging him back, he hid his face In the crook of your neck mumbling thank yous In a low voice. you laughed at his reaction, feeling your heart warm for him. "you're such a baby." you teased, raking your hands through his hair hearing a scoff, "you didn't have to do this for me." he said pulled his face back from your neck to look at you being face to face, you rolled your eyes grabbing his cheeks with both hands pecking his lips, "but I did and I wanted to. I wanted you to at least enjoy one birthday out of the 40 others you missed." you pat his shoulders unwrapping your legs, feeling his hold let go of you as you walked towards the kitchen leaving him with furrowed eyebrows. "40? I'm not that old." you smiled shaking your head, "you're getting close~" he rolled his eyes, walking back to the island table picking his blade back up.

"where did you get this from?"

"let's just say I had some help finding the exact one." you smiled, "one more thing. I know how much you dislike going out, especially In the city. so..I decided to prepare something special for you." he raised a brow, "like what?" "I made some snacks yesterday night while you were sleep and I got us a couple of movies to watch, and later tonight I'll cook you whatever you want."

he didn't deserve you.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

It's Too Soon, Too Fast, But This Could Last

Request: It was supposed to be a one night stand. Then it became a second night. A third - and suddenly they realized that they had never left.

Roy Kent x Reader 1k words Warnings: Language, mentions of a one-night stand

“I was thinking about getting a pizza for dinner. What d’you think?”

You looked up from your phone across the couch at Roy, who was gazing at you with raised eyebrows. Another dinner invitation? Was he expecting you to sleep over- again?

When you’d gone out with your girlfriends on Friday night, the only thing on your mind was dancing and letting loose. Sleeping with someone was not in the plans. And waking up on Saturday morning in Roy Kent’s bed was nowhere on your radar. But both of those things happened. And Saturday morning had turned into a lazy Saturday afternoon of movies and takeout, followed by another night in his bed. Now it was late Sunday morning, and you were lounging on his couch with a movie, wondering when the infamous womanizer was going to kick you out of his house.

“Pizza,” you echoed cautiously. “Uh, sure, pizza sounds great.” After a moment, you cleared your throat, fighting the urge to squirm nervously. “I might head home after that,” you added, keeping your eyes on Roy.

Instead of agreeing that yes, you should get the hell out of his house, Roy wrinkled his nose at you. “How come?” he asked plainly. “Something wrong?”

Not the reaction you were expecting, if you were being honest. “I think you might be running out of t-shirts to loan me, Roy,” you chuckled awkwardly, gesturing at the black shirt the footballer had handed you after the shower you’d shared that morning.

Those brown eyes narrowed playfully. “Just need a change of clothes, eh?” After a moment, he shrugged, the corner of his mouth beginning to curve into a smirk. “Why don’t I drive you by your place so you can grab a couple things while I go to the shop and get things to make a proper dinner?” Before you could formulate any sort of answer, he grabbed your leg and tugged you towards him until you were right next to him, face to face, noses touching. “How’s that sound? Stay over again?”

That tiny grin and those raised eyebrows were impossible to resist. “Alright,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’ll stay again.”

That was three weeks ago. Now, your toothbrush sat on Roy’s bathroom sink, next to your toiletry bag and hairbrush. Your duffel bag was settled in its spot next to his dresser, a spot it only left when you ran back to your place to refill it with fresh clothes. Even your laundry was done at Roy’s house, using the fancy-high tech washer and dryer in his washroom with just as much ease as you used your own. When you left work, you went straight to Roy’s house. When you popped into the shops, your groceries went into his kitchen.

It was a bit surreal, if you were being honest; you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to your girlfriends, other than coyly tell them that you’d had a good time with Roy after he’d put his hand on the small of your back and led you out of the club you’d met at. But hell, if it wasn’t the happiest couple of weeks you’d had in a long time.

You were in the kitchen making dinner when you heard Roy’s voice. He didn’t call your name, the way he usually did when he walked through the door. Instead, it sounded like he was in the middle of a conversation with someone. Sure enough, when you peeked into the living room, you saw him with his mobile pressed to his ear.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he was saying. With his back to the kitchen, he couldn’t see you lingering in the doorway, unsure whether to do something to get his attention. “Is it cool if I, uh, bring my girlfriend with me?”

Girlfriend. Your hand flew to your mouth to stifle your squeak and hide your smile. Girlfriend. Had Roy really said that? With two little syllables, he’d nearly stopped the breath in your lungs and sent your heart into the stratosphere.

Deciding to pretend you hadn’t heard a thing, you quickly turned back to the kitchen. Too quickly, apparently, because you harshly slammed your shoulder into the doorframe.

“Ow,” you hissed, rubbing your arm.

So much for keeping quiet.

When you glanced over your shoulder, Roy was looking at you, phone still pressed to his ear. His eyes sparkled at the sight of you, clearly fighting a smile. “Alright man,” he said to whoever he was chatting with. “I’ll see you later.” He hung up and offered you a small nod. “Hey there,” he hummed casually.

“Hi.” You crossed the room to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. The kiss he pressed to your lips was familiar now. “So, you’re taking your girlfriend somewhere, hmm?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “Do I need to leave before she finds me here or…?”

Roy’s smile turned from coy to bashful and so freaking adorable. “You heard that, yeah?” He chuckled and shook his head. “One of my teammates is having a birthday party tomorrow night.” He pressed his forehead to yours; you could feel the embarrassed heat radiating off his face. “I’d fucking love it if you came with me.”

“What about your girlfriend?” you teased, anxious to get him to ask him the question you were clearly digging for.

Sure enough, Roy rolled his eyes and gave you a little squeeze. “Fuck off,” he huffed with a chuckle. “I was talking about you, you muppet.” He leaned in for a kiss.

Refusing to let him off the hook, you dodged his lips and shook your head. “I’m not your girlfriend,” you reminded him pointedly. “Unless you asked me something and I completely missed it.”

Roy gave another eyeroll, paired with an affectionate groan. “Fine.” He squeezed you closer now. “Since you’re already half moved in, d’you think you want to be my girlfriend?”

It was supposed to be one night. One night in Roy Kent’s bed, something fun and casual, something that you’d giggle about with your girlfriends and slowly forget about. But now, with your things in Roy’s house and his arms wrapped around you, you knew there was only one answer to his question.

“Sure, Roy.” You leaned forward and kissed his lips. “I think I want to be your girlfriend.”

[cheolism]

for you, the world

seungcheol x gn! reader

summary: feeling as though seungcheol's feelings towards you had changed, you confront him.

wc is approx 2.4k

genre: angst and comfort. idol au.

warning/notes: a reference to the feeling of being choked. depression and anxiety from both cheol and the reader. mentions of depression and anxiety. serious discussions of feelings, feeling vulnerable, being honest even though it's scary.

request: how do you think scoups reacts when the love of his life asks him to love her more than she loves him

author: i realized you wanted a reaction and not a oneshot too late!!! but here's the requested reaction

You were twisting your hands, wringing your fingers and scraping your nails against your skin. You refused to look at Seungcheol, staring at his feet where he still wore the sneakers he had hurriedly put on before going to practice that day, having had no time to do much else after waking up late.

It wasn't hard to see the weariness on your face, not when you held your body away from him, as if he was a stranger you were about to bare your heart to and not the man you've been dating for four years.

You were wearing mismatched socks. Your sweats were uneven, one leg having rolled up to your knee and the other bunched loosely around your ankle. The hoodie was his, and Seungcheol knew that if he were to press closer he would be able to smell his cologne.

"Baby," Seungcheol began, hesitant.

You shook your head roughly, cutting him off. "Wait. Let me get all this out first. I'm trying, Cheol, it's just -- it's hard."

He nodded. Seungcheol smoothed his hands over his pants, trying to rub off the sweat that had begun to collect there. He would be lying if he ever tried to say he wasn't an anxious person, but concerning your relationship? Seungcheol always thought navigating your relationship was like sailing a under the brilliant sun, using its brightness as a guide.

But all of a sudden he felt as if the sun had given to darkness and rain, thunderclouds cracking overhead and stirring the sea; he was in uncharted territory, and he felt as if time was beginning to work against him.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, composing yourself. "I'm just -- it's hard. Being honest. Not in the way that people think. If someone asks me my opinion on something I'll give it, but this. Being honest like this is hard."

That's what Seungcheol liked about you. You were honest. It dripped off of you just like your sweetness did, just as thick as honey. You were honest with your words, but with your expressions moreso. More than once, when Seungcheol pointed out a certain look or expression you got, you would explain that your face was your weakness; even if you had ever managed to tell a lie, your face would give it away.

But this honesty, the honesty you were trying to give to Seungcheol, was different. It wasn't telling Minghao that his brightly colored outfit wasn't coordinated, no matter how Minghao would try to convince you otherwise. It wasn't your look of disgust when Mingyu tells a joke that doesn't land.

It was the honesty of taking your soul out of your chest and revealing it. It was showing someone the deepest, darkest thoughts that lingered in the back of your mind, in hidden corners that no sunshine could ever reach.

It was, Seungcheol knew, the same honesty that had him calling you at three in the morning, sobbing, as he felt his depression grip him around the throat and squeeze to the point of no return.

So he was still and silent, observing you. Letting you speak.

"I think --" you tried once, twice, voice and heart rebelling against one another. "I feel. I feel, wrongly, horribly, that -- that you don't love me anymore."

For a moment Seungcheol didn't understand what you were saying. It was like when someone suddenly speaks about something that happened long ago, a veil of fog over the memory before it was revealed.

But then the accusation filtered through his ears, through the fog. It pierced through his brain and landed in his heart, digging into it, puncturing.

He opened his mouth immediately to protest. Seungcheol loved you. He loved you.

When he was younger and still bright-eyed, when he sang about first loves and flower paths, when it felt like it was him and his members against the world, Seungcheol hadn't really taken much stock in the words he sang. They were words that Jihoon so eloquently wrote, each holding the considerable weight of their future success and whether it was worth it -- whether Seventeen was worth it. But they were words.

But then he met you, dated you, fell in love with you. And he understood what it meant when they sang about feeling clumsiness around a crush, when he had the irresistible urge to tell you about his adoration for you. Every single word he ever rapped or sang seemed to have made sense. Every single word, from the first ever song to now, was for you. It was all for you, even if he didn't know it at the time.

And now --

Now you were saying --

"I know -- I know what you'll say," you rushed on, having seen his bewildered look. "I know it. Seungcheol, I know you love me. I know it. I know, I know, I know.

"But at the same time --" Your voice cracked, and you turned your head sharply. Your arms moved to cradle yourself, squeezing your shoulders. "At the same time I have this voice. This thought. And of course I was able to ignore it, for the longest time I did. But now --"

Seungcheol watched as you took one deep breath, lungs filling. You held it for three seconds; released. You did this twice more, eyes squeezed shut, shoulders rising and lowering.

He immediately recognized it as something he taught you. He had researched ways to soothe oneself and had stumbled upon this breathing technique. Seungcheol remembered your wide eyes as you looked up at him, awed with how well it worked.

"Now," you said, voice calmer. You still didn't look at him. "Now it's like you don't even want to be around. Around me. You get home late from practice, getting stuff to eat with the guys after. And that's fine! Of course it's fine for you to hang out with them, of course it's fine for you to hang out with your friends. I'm not saying that. I'm not.

"But you come home late, past the time I can stay up because of work. And then I wake up and you're still asleep. And on the weekends you wake late, because you're exhausted, of course. But you wake up late and have no time for anything other than a shower and a meal before you go running off to practice. And it repeats."

You reached up, rubbing at your nose. You had been crying, Seungcheol realized. "Or you go and hang out at Hybe with the boys. And I can't go there. You know that. Or hang out with them and their friends, their expensive and shiny friends, and you know how I am with strangers. You know what it's like to be the only dull thing in a room of shining people."

And he did. Fuck, he did.

"You don't even text me," you cried, your voice finally giving out. Your hands went to your cheeks, furiously rubbing. Seungcheol wanted to cross the room to you in that instant, to take you into his arms and press kisses to your forehead and tell you to save it, that surely this conversation could wait for another day.

But he knew it couldn't.

Not when you were crying over it, not when it was so obviously driving you to exhaustion worrying about it.

"I text you all the time. I text you about every single fucking thing that makes me laugh or smile because I think it'll make you happy. I tell you about whatever dog I see, about whatever kid I see running about. And you just -- you don't even respond.

"And I know the messages usually aren't about anything important. But I just -- you can't even acknowledge it?"

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. But it was no use. You were sobbing. You were sobbing like your heart was breaking, and Seungcheol knew his was.

"It's like you won't even acknowledge me," you sobbed, chest heaving. "You won't even look at me, it feels like!

"Seungcheol," you slapped a hand over your mouth. You weren't even stopping your tears now, not even wiping them away. It was just as bad as seeing you trying to hide them, Seungcheol thought.

It was like you were giving up.

"Seungcheol," you began again, voice thick, "why can you love me like I love you? Why can't you love me just even a fraction more than I love you?"

It was like you had been preparing him for the plunge. You put him in lukewarm weather, then cold. Each and every word of yours was preparing Seungcheol, was giving way to some horrible truth that was clawing out of the back of your mind, leaving its dark corner. But then you picked him up out of that cold water and plunged him into Arctic water, the temperature shocking him and electrifying his body.

Because nothing, nothing, could ever prepare him for that.

There were a few things Seungcheol couldn't imagine you ever saying. He couldn't imagine you ever saying that apple juice was better than orange; that football was better than basketball. Just like he never, ever, could have imagined you saying that you doubted his love for you.

It was like you and Seungcheol were standing in the rain. It was soaking your clothes, making your hair cling to your head. There was no sun, it being hidden by thick dark rain clouds. Both of you could hear the rain smacking against the pavement.

But, nonetheless, you were turning to him and saying how you liked bright and sunny days like this one.

Then, Seungcheol realized, the two of you weren't just standing in the rain. He was being pelted with it, his love so obvious for you that it seeped into his clothes and in his very being. But, even though you were standing beside him, you were holding an umbrella, protected from the rain.

You were quiet in front of him, shrinking back into yourself. You were turning your shoulders from him, clutching at your elbows as you hugged yourself. Still you were hiding your eyes from his. "I'm sorry, Cheol. I know it's ridic --"

Unable to help himself, Seungcheol was shooting off the couch. Your body was in his arms before he really realized what he was doing. He was pressing your body into his, feeling your elbows awkwardly dig into his chest, your face dig into his collar. Almost instantly your tears were soaking his shirt.

"Listen," he started, voice thick and stern. "Listen to me, baby. I have spent every day of the past three and a half years loving you. I have loved you through some of the worst fucking days of my life."

Seungcheol pulled away, his hands going to your cheeks. He wiped at your tears, your eyes shining from them. You sniffled; he echoed it.

When had he stared crying?'

"You listen to me," he said, feeling his jaw clench. He didn't let you look away, turning your face to keep his eyes trained on yours. "I have loved you even when I hated myself. Even when I didn't know how I could love anyone or anything, I loved you.

"I loved you when you showed up for our sixth month anniversary wearing that cute smile and the little cherry earrings. Remember them? I loved you when you took me to meet your grandparents, loved you when I brought you to mine and my grandpa couldn't believe how I managed to find someone as sweet and kind and clever as you to call my own.

"I loved you when you got Josh to teach you how to make bracelets so you could make one for me. I loved you when you sat with Jeonghan and made me that silly Lego flower set. I loved you when you stayed up far-too-fucking-late to FaceTime me on tour. I loved you when you got me that silly little fucking bear at the Airport Giftshop for way to much money just because you said it reminded you of me.

"I loved you when I did nothing but sit in the dark. When you would show up with food and love and just hold me.

"That doesn't just go away," Seungcheol breathed, blinking to try and see you through his tears. "I've always loved you. Always. Nothing can change that."

You burrowed into him, your hands clinging to his shirt. Seungcheol squashed you against him, feeling as if even a centimeter of space between the two of you was too much.

"I'm sorry." He licked his lips, pressing his eyes shut and laying his head on top of yours. "I'm so fucking sorry. You should never, ever, feel as if I don't love you. As if I won't fucking climb Mount Everest naked for you. As if I wouldn't give everything I am to be the one privileged enough to spend the rest of my life beside you.

"You are so important," he said. "You are so important. To me, to the members, to your family. To my family. To every single fucking person you've ever met. You are worth so much more than I could ever give. But I will spend the rest of my life giving, giving you my love and adoration."

You nodded against his chest. The two of you stood there in the dim light of your living room, arms wrapped around one another. Seungcheol sighed, squeezing you.

"I will send you texts every fucking minute of every hour," he vowed, as if such a thing could mend your broken heart and erase the past hour of tears. "I'll send every bird, dog, cat, mouse -- everything. I'll make you show up to every after-practice dinner. I'll drag you out of the apartment in pajamas if I have to. I'll wake up bright and early and make you a gourmet breakfast."

"No, you won't."

Seungcheol laughed weakly. "You're right. I can try, though." "I'll appreciate whatever you give me," you murmured into his clothes, voice still small and weak from crying. "Even a bowl of cereal."

But you didn't deserve a bowl of cereal, Seungcheol thought. You didn't deserve a text every minute, didn't deserve a picture of every fucking animal on Earth. You didn't deserve dinners after midnight, didn't deserve omelets or bacon or sausage.

You deserved the world.

And Seungcheol would spend the rest of his life giving it to you.

[yjhariani]

Just so we could realise this idea a little bit, let's have a little bit of infected!Simon and doctor!reader moment.

You tried so hard to not sigh in disappointment first thing upon unravelling the bandage that was badly covering an ‘amputated’ arm. You took a moment to assess the damage before looking up at the man sitting in front of you.

“So, what’s goin’ on here?” you asked, getting your tools ready to clean up the stump.

The masked soldier took a moment before saying, “I got shot.”

“You got shot,” you nodded. “Close proximity?”

“Too close,” he said.

“How close?” you asked.

“Do I need to answer?” he asked back.

“You do know you should never lie to a medical professional, right, sir?” you teased casually, raising an eyebrow at him.

The man only looked at you for a moment, weighing on how much he liked the way you addressed him like that.

“Direct contact,” he finally said. “Almost direct.”

You looked at him in understanding because you already knew what happened. This soldier was probably alone when it happened, seeing that if he had at least one companion he would have had his limb cut off instead of shot clean off.

“Okay, uh… sorry, what’s your name?” you proceeded.

It was a rare thing for people to ask that. Hell, one look at his mask and people knew who he was. Sometimes they did not even need to know his name, they just needed to be very respectful towards him.

So, he said, “Simon.”

“Simon. Alright, Simon, do you wanna talk about it?” you offered.

“No,” he sternly said. “It’s stupid.”

“If you’re still here, then, it’s not,” you shrugged.

The man only looked at you for a moment.

“I might have… accidentally shoved my whole fist into the mouth of a zombie,” he carefully said.

“Oh,” you hummed in response.

To be honest, he was surprised by your nonchalant reaction. He thought you would have laughed at him. He was so glad you did not.

“Yeah,” he said. “It clamped my hand in. Took a force to get my hand out. Ripped my glove in the process.”

“You’re lucky the infection didn’t kick in sooner. Else you would’ve been one of them,” you said.

“I suppose, yeah,” he nodded.

From there, you thoroughly took care of his stump. You even told him afterwards how to properly take care of it. Then, you told him that he was good to go.

“You’ll be here tomorrow?” he asked as he stood up.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Alright,” he nodded and started to step away. “Just making sure I know who to seek in case I run a fever or something.”

You smiled at him.

“Let’s hope you don’t,” you lightly chuckled.

I’ll make an excuse, he thought to himself.

So, the next morning, once Simon woke up in his private quarter he brainstormed with himself on the excuses that he might use just so he could see you again in the infirmary. Maybe he could say that he had trouble replacing the bandage of his stump. Or maybe he was not feeling good, having a bad dream about it—something that was not entirely wrong.

This quarter—though not as spacious as the time before the apocalypse—was a little luxury that his rank gave him. He could sleep with his mask off and not have to share a bathroom with anybody.

Deciding to start his day, Simon got up from the bed and headed to the small bathroom. He thought about starting his day per usual, with a quick shower, brushing his teeth, then maybe getting some food and eating them in his quarter.

However, right after his very carefully done shower, Simon was frozen in front of his sink as he looked in the mirror. His right eye had turned milky like the infected, there were patches of skin that looked rotten on the right side of his face and body. His gaze descended to his right arm, seeing rotting looking skin. When he lifted a little bit of his bandage, he could see how much worse the skin around his stump looked.

For a few moments, Simon tried waking himself up, but soon he had to accept that he had been awake for quite some time. Though he was not a stranger to the thought of death, seeing that his time would come soon made him uneasy and a little anxious.

Well, Simon did not need to make an excuse to see you now because he had a very real reason to.

[pettypuppy-jonghyun]

Skz Comforting You (on your period) | Skz Reactions

Summary: skz reacts to you accidentally staining the bed while sleeping

Warnings: mentions of menstrual blood ⚠️

Notes: for all my lovelies who have bled through your clothes in the middle of the night, or slept in an awkward position that made you stain your bed sheets, please note it is completely normal. Even if you have had a period for many years, accidents happen. This is a reassuring fic to help comfort you in those times when it might be a little embarrassing. This is for fictional purposes.

Chan

Absolutely the least of your worries. He's the most caring man you will ever meet and is not deterred by minuscule accidents. If you notice it in the middle of the night, he will wake up when you do and ask if you're alright. Once you explain the situation, He immediately gets up to help you clean. Chan would usher you into the bathroom to clean you first, and while you may protest, he's already closed the door. He will remove the sheets off the bed and get rid of them immediately so you aren't painfully reminded of the stain. Once you are finished showering and feel refreshed, you come into the bedroom to see the new sheets and you can't help but smile softly at your lover who's patiently waiting for you to come receive his cuddles. You are his top priority and making you feel comfortable comes first. You don't have to explain yourself and you don't have to feel embarrassed.

Lino

Another one you really don't have to feel embarrassed with. He's more concerned over you and the tears rolling down your face that he is with a stain. Lee know would rather throw away the sheets before he would ever question you or show any form of disgust. If it's in the morning, and he notices it first, he would try to distract you and get you to wash up before you notice it. Might even use another blanket to cover it from your eyes so that you don't feel embarrassed. He knows it's not something you can control and doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable. If you notice it first, and attempt to hide it, Lino is nosy and will want to know what you're hiding. Once you show signs of discomfort, all jokes are put aside until you're better.

Changbin

I'm going to be honest, he's a little dense. If there's blood on the bed when he wakes up, He's going to freak out. Changbin is also one for traumatics so he might accidentally make a big deal out of it. Once he knows exactly what happened, he starts feeling bad and apologizes immediately. Now all he wants to do is make you comfortable, so he asked what he can do to help you. If you just want to clean it really quick and get some cuddles to go back to sleep, then he is absolutely all for it. You kind of have to guide him with this one because he's unsure and doesn't entirely know what you need. If this is not the first time this has happened, or similar situation has happened he would still wait for your instructions before he makes any movements in case you don't want his help. He just wants what's best for you.

Hyunjin

A romantic at heart. Your needs are far greater than any embarrassment you might feel. Hyunjin might be sleepy, but he wants you to feel taking care of. He will silently take care of the bed sheets and get new ones. You will make you a bubble bath and bring you fresh pair of clothes so that you get cleaned up well. He is not shy or afraid of anything in relations to a period and is the first one to take a step towards making you feel better. If it's in the middle of the night when it's found, he will ask if you want cuddles to go back to sleep. Hyunnie will ask if you have the right materials for sleep time, and if you need him to make a late night run to the store he will.

Jisung

Also one to be a little dense. He might suggest an adult diaper, thinking it may help. Not realizing there is one made specifically for menstrual care. He's hesitant to make the first move in taking care of the stain, but once you instruct him what you need to do, he jump right in and do it for you. Jisung cares deeply for you and doesn't want to make you any more embarrassed than you already might be. Just needs you to tell him what needs to be done and he'll do it. If he notices it first, he might panic a little and try to put tissues or paper towel over the stain on the sheets. Once you realize what he's doing, he attempts to discourage you from taking care of the problem. You'd have to tell him you also might need a change of cleaning clothes and a good wash. Let him help you.

Felix

Just like Hyunjin, he will ask if you have all the things you need to make it through the night. If he is unable to make a late night run to a store, he will help make any makeshift materials you need to ensure you are completely covered and comfortable. Will prepare a warm shower so you can quickly clean off and come back to bed to snuggle him. Felix wants to make sure you are warm and well taken care of. He will bring you a glass of your favorite warm drink, some pain medication if you need it, and a heating pad. This is the perfect time to request one of his favorite hoodies to wear, because he cannot resist you.

Seungmin

Is a sleepy head. He will tiredly scoop up the sheets and throw them in the wash before you could even question why he woke you in the middle of the night. Seungmin might not be one for words, even if he does want to comfort you, so his actions show his heart. He completely intends to take care of the problem by himself, but eventually you put two and two together and feel the embarrassment wash over you. He will immediately console you, wrapping you in his arms, silently holding you until you feel better. He'll make you go clean yourself up so you can comfortably come back to bed.

Jeongin

If it isn't until morning when someone notices the stain, Jeongin would be a little surprised. You have shared the same bed together for a while so if this is the first time something like that had happened, he is a little confused and startled. If he already knows that you started your period, he might put the puzzle pieces together and assist you in the cleaning process. He would rather die before he asks anything, though. He feels embarrassed as your lover that he is unsure how to properly take care of the situation. Once he realizes you are embarrassed, having made a stain on your sheets while sleeping, Jeongin will rush to console you. He doesn't want you to feel bad over something you couldn't control. But please help him out and instruct him on what he can do to help. Otherwise, the sheets are getting thrown out.

[eyesthatroll]

..rice pudding? | jake seresin

pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x fem!reader

warnings: pretty much just fluff, lowercase intended not really edited.

word count: 0.8k

summary: the next morning after you spent the night at jake's apartment for the first time

"i didn't know you could cook?" you say, the smell of pancakes and bacon invading your senses as you padded into the kitchen, still clad in your night clothes.

jake is shirtless, a pair of black nike sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips, the waistband of his calvin klein boxers just barely in view.

he turns to you, the sunlight shining through the window above the kitchen sink, reflecting beautifully against his sleepy eyes and tousled hair.

memories from last night of you tugging on those dirty blonde locks flash through your mind, and you feel your cheeks warm.

"there's a lot you don't know about me, darlin'" he teases, sending a playful wink your way before turning back to the stove.

you take a seat on the middle barstool at the granite island.

it was your first time spending the night at jake's apartment, and to be honest, you had expected to wake up before him and slip out the door, just to avoid any potential awkwardness. of course, you'd shoot him a text saying that you had a great night, and create a fake excuse of why you had to leave so soon. you really did like jake, and you weren't a total asshole to leave without a word.

but to your surprise, you woke up to an empty bed. an empty bed, and the sound of jake singing along to 'so caught up' by the tuskey brothers, downstairs. you’d stayed in bed for a few minutes before getting up, just enjoying the feeling of being enveloped by the intoxicating smell of jake.

though, in hindsight, you should have accounted for the fact that jake is a navy man, and that he probably wakes up early, if not earlier than you, on a regular basis.

the clink of a plate being sat in front of you brings you out of your head.

"what'cha thinkin' about?"

"you." you answer truthfully.

his ears tinge pink, and he lets out a chuckle before speaking. "let's see if there's somethin' on that plate you like."

you look down at the full plate of food. pancakes, eggs, bacon, and.. some sort of rice pudding?

you pick up your fork and warily dip it in the rice whatever it is.

jake laughs. "you've never had grits?"

"no, what is that?"

"you are such a city girl." he teases, shaking his head. "grits are like.. i don't know how to explain it.. like.. corn porridge."

your browns furrowed in confusion.

"what does it taste like?"

"just take a bite and try it, you weirdo."

slowly, you move the fork to your mouth.

the texture is strange at first, but it surprisingly taste good. very good.

jake looks at you with anticipation. "well?"

your lips lift into a grin. "that's really fucking good, jake."

"yeah?"

you go in for another bite. "when i die, bury me in this stuff."

jake laughs, absolutely enamored by your reaction to trying grits for the first time.

"i'm serious, i want this in my casket."

"if i'm still around, i'll do my best to make sure it happens."

the two of you spend the next half hour laughing, eating, feeding off of each others energy.

despite the big ego and slight superiority complex, jake is actually really great, and you could feel yourself falling in love with him in the future.

you had offered to do this dishes, you felt it was only right since jake did the cooking, but he insisted that he would get to them later.

which made you happy, because while you would've done them without complaining, you hated doing the dishes.

"what're your plans for the day?" he asks, opening the front door for you.

"uh, i don't think i have any, maybe some laundry and cleaning?"

jake nods. "well, if you're bored later tonight, a few co-workers and i are gonna go to the bar. you should come, i'd like for you to come-if you want?"

you fought the urge to squeal like a little girl. "yeah, that sounds fun. message me the details?"

"i will."

you go in for a hug, but jake wraps his arms around you and pulls you in for a kiss.

his lips are warm and soft, almost silken against your own, and unlike last night, the kiss is slow, passionate, allowing you to live in the moment and appreciate him and the way he feels.

jake's light stubble tickles against your chin, and you smile into the kiss, breaking apart for a gasp of air. "see you later, jake."

-

a/n;

i like this for now, but i'm sure if i re-read it in the next few days i'll hate it. anyways, any constructive criticism or advice is always welcome, i'm pretty new to writing so any tips you have are greatly appreciated. thanks:)

[mirisss]

Enhypen's reaction to their asexual gf’s sleeping habit

Enhypen x aseuxal afab! reader

Worcount ≈ 900

Thank you!

Heesung

Heesung would be a bit flirty, never crossing any boundaries that you have, just some playful flirting. “Ohh, who let such a princess come into my room?” “What am I seeing? A goddess, for me?” “Has an angel been sent my way?” The thing is though, he isn’t doing it because of what you’re wearing, nope, he does these things constantly. It could be 6 in the morning as you wake up, your hair looking as if it hasn’t been brushed or washed in a year and he would still ask “Who is this angel that stands in front of me?” Of course, he finds his girlfriend absolutely breathtakingly beautiful but he would never do anything that makes you uncomfortable, so if you don’t like the flirty pick-up lines then he will stop using them immediately. 

Jay

Let’s be honest, Jay falls asleep in seconds. You’d be lucky if he stayed awake long enough for you to change into your “pajamas” or what we should call it. He wouldn’t care, as long as it doesn’t interrupt his sleep, you can wear or do whatever. Jay isn’t one to worry about such things, all he really cares about is his own sleep in these moments. However, if he was awake and saw the pajamas he would really react in any way. Neither “OMG you’re half naked let me touch” nor “Ew, put some clothes on” He would just look at you and ask if you were gonna lay down in bed or stand in the middle of the room half the night. Of course, he wouldn’t react like a sex-crazed monster because he knew that wasn’t something you were interested in and of course, he wouldn’t find you disgusting, he was in love with you after all. 

Jake

Cuddlebug. As long as he gets to cuddle you like a teddy bear, he is a happy boy. You could be dressed in whatever, an overall, nothing, a dress… he doesn’t care as long as he can cuddle you. “Ohhh, (Y/n) you look good. Now come here, I wanna cuddle!” Jake was as excited as a golden retriever puppy when seeing a tennis ball. The second you get within arms reach, he will pull you down on the bed and he won’t let go until morning. It will get warm, so perhaps shorts would be better than sweatpants if you run warm. 

Sunghoon

Being a former ice skater, Sunghoon has seen a lot of people dressed in revealing clothing so in a way he was used to it. However, seeing the girl he was in love with dressed in a sports bra and sweatpants, made him blush. He wasn’t much of a cuddler when sleeping but this day, he couldn’t help himself from embracing you in a tight hug. Just knowing that you felt comfortable enough to be seen this way around him made him incredibly happy and giddy inside. “I love you,” “I love you too, Sunghoon,” It was the first time those words were spoken between Sunghoon and you as you lay in bed cuddled close together.

Sunoo

“Are you sure you won’t be cold? What if I move and steal the blanket?” “Sunoo, you lay on the edge of the bed not moving most of the time, it’s more likely that I steal the blanket from you than the other way around,” “Alright then… Btw, is it really comfortable sleeping in a bra? I’ve heard that it isn’t, would it be better with something else? Like one of my t-shirts or something?” Sunoo would be more concerned over your comfort than anything. He didn’t find it awkward or weird, as long as you were comfortable and didn’t get sick. 

Jungwon

Cuddlebug #2. Jungwon is very excited to finally spend a full night with you. Cuddling, talking, cuddling, just enjoying each other’s presence. He did squeal and blush when you came out of the bathroom in a sports bra and a pair of his sweatpants, the sleepover had been a bit spontaneous so you weren’t really prepared. “Are you sure you don’t want one of my hoodies or t-shirts?” “Yes, Jungwon, I’m sure. I usually sleep in this but, you know, with my sweatpants,” “Oh, nice. We should buy matching colors so it’s like matching pajamas” The squeal wasn’t because of the bra, nope, it was because you were wearing his sweatpants. He barely even noticed the bra until his eyes traveled from the pants to your eyes.

Niki

Cuddlebug #2. He may have stopped cuddling his older members, but you? Oh no, you’re his personal teddy bear. The first time he saw you coming out of the bathroom in a sports bra and sweatpants, he blushed a bit and felt a little nervous but he quickly got over it as he imagined how nice it would be to cuddle with a little more skin contact for that extra warmth. It also gave him opportunities to joke around and tickle you a little. He’s young but he knows what boundaries are, if you don’t want anything more than just hugs that’s fine with him. 

[rustingcat]

Season

Nature can't be controlled. Kara did try on several occasions, but time and the passing of the seasons can't be stopped. She tried that as well.

The babies' growth was nearly complete, and Kara felt like no time had passed while also feeling like it's been ages. Everything was ready for them, and now with a new room available for them in the house, they even made sure that the new home office doubled as a play room if needed. Of course there was the reason for the addition, the reason being Kara officially moving into Lena's room, their room. 

Their new relationship status sure changed some things, she could wake up next to Lena each morning, kiss her whenever she liked, not feel guilty appreciating her – an act she did not even realise she was doing until she stopped – and just got to be open with her, fully open with her, in ways she couldn't before. But then on many fronts nothing had changed at all, their talks, dates, movie nights, their day to day life felt oddly the same, as if they were part way there and just needed the last little shove, which was probably true if Kara was honest with herself.

There were no major life threatening enemies, no major scandal, no political turmoil – all good things of course, but as the editor-in-chief of a major news company, Kara was bored. She was leaning against the office balcony hoping for something interesting to happen when her special alert went off.

The pods!

Kara was so excited about it that she managed to drop her phone twice while trying to unlock it. Opening the special app they made for the matrix, she saw the notification letting her know that pod number two was ready to be opened.

"Nia! You're gonna be a mum!" Kara may have run slightly faster than humanly possible to get to Nia's desk.

"Um, I know?" She replied in a confused tone.

"No, like right now!" Kara emphasised.

"Oh! Shit let's go!" Nia jumped to her feet, collecting things into her bag in a quick succession.

"Want a lift?"

"Yes, get me there as fast as you can! Oh wait, I need the baby bag."

"Brainy left it in the lab 5 days ago."

"God, I love this man. Okay, take me to my baby Kara!"

"Ahhh! Let's go!" She was practically jumping with pure glee.

Kara really tried to make Nia's flight as comfortable as possible, but she may have gone a bit faster than intended out of sheer excitement. Nia didn't seem to mind. 

The pod was indeed flashing green, both Lena and Brainy were already typing away on the console.

"How…?" 

"Teleporter," Lena answered before Kara could even ask.

"Anything we can do?" Nia asked in a plea.

"Kara, get the baby cart and beds, Nia, blankets." Lena quickly took control of the situation. "Brainy, how are we doing on starts?"

"First Apgar seems to be clean. Blood work is perfect and shots administered and I see no negative reactions. She's perfect."

"Alright, get ready for the drain."

Kara nodded, taking a quick x-ray look at the pipes to see they are properly connected before taking her place. They prepared for that in advance, practicing the events several times just in case. They even made sure the room temperature would be slightly higher than normal so it wouldn't contrast too much from the temperature in the pod. The water got drained slowly, revealing a tiny little light green skinned baby with a shaggy brown patch of hair. Kara collected the infant with the soft towel to drain away the remaining liquid and moved her to the blanket Lena had prepared in advance.

Kara passed the baby to her new mother who was already crying before she even held her. Brainy was not faring better, drying away his own tears on his sleeve as he stood behind his wife and admired his new daughter.

Kara shared a look with Lena. They smiled at each other, both relieved everything went alright, and just very thrilled for their friends. Friends who probably deserved a moment alone.

"I'm gonna make some calls to start your maternity leave," Kara announced as she headed to the door.

"I'll call the national city hospital to register her." Lena lifted her own phone from across the lab door." Just before I go, does she have a name yet?" Lena asked still in a professional tone just as she approached the door.

Nia and Brainy shared a joyful look.

"Nellie. Nellie Nal." Brainy announced. 

Lena exited the room with her just as Kara finished sending the mail to HR. She already had hers prepare in advance as well, along with a temporary replacement she was training.

"I can't believe she's here." Lena dropped her professional in control act the moment she met Kara's gaze.

"I know," Kara nodded, her eyes becoming blurry as she pulled Lena for a hug.

She held her girlfriend tightly, focusing herself on Lena's smell and touch to ground herself. They noticed Nellie's faster development early on, they hypothesised it was due to her Coluan genes, so they knew she would probably be born before the twins, but Kara couldn't help but be a little bit jealous she was here before them.

"Alright," Lena wiped away a small tear as they pulled away from the hug. "I should probably notify the hospital," she gestured to the phone and data pad in her hand.

Kara nodded, and put a small curl behind Lena’s ear.

Lena smiled and kissed her softly before walking away to make the call.

Kara filled out a couple of glasses with water and walked back in the lab, hoping the young couple had enough alone time with their daughter. Nellie was laying on top of her mother as her father prepared a bottle for her. Kara melted a bit at the sight.

Nia noticed her first, smiling as she whispered to her daughter. "Hey Nellie, do you want to meet your aunt Kara?"

And there were the tears again. Nellie was perfect indeed. Eyes closed, the little infant waved her little hand with her even tinier fingers and Kara's heart skipped a bit.

She looked at Nia dead in the eye and announced, "she is the cutest little thing ever."

Nia chuckled and agreed.

When Lena returned they did another set of small tests and sent the happy family home.

Lena pulled her closer that night and promised that they'll meet them soon. Kara couldn't wait.

Read everything in order on AO3

[sphireath-wisp]

#My Kind of Lover

Sypnosis: I have no idea what this is about, I'm just rambling (Inspired by "My kind of woman")

Warnings: Not proofread (again), might not be in character for Kaiser because I didn't read the manga,

Featuring: Itoshi Sae, Itoshi Rin, Micheal Kaiser x GN! reader

Itoshi Sae

If there was something else other than soccer that could ever reach his heart, it would be any sort of breathtaking scenery.

The smell of salt, the hues of the setting sun, and ocean waves overlapping. He would find himself staring at the sea for longer than he actually wanted to. The stretch of white a white sandy beach with the soft occasional cries of seagulls, washing down that lump in his throat with some excessively fruity drink his assistant left on the table, maybe he didn't mind forgetting soccer for just a small moment during these times.

If anything, these calm - supposedly serene moments made him feel at ease again.

But recently, Sae has found himself more captivated by you. It didn't matter what you were doing, he could and would stare at you for hours. Waking up next to you and seeing your face the first thing in the morning, makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

Oh, you don't like this? He'll remember that. You seem really fond of this flower? He'll buy extra to see that smile again.

If I'm being honest, you didn't really understand why he liked looking at you so much. At first, you would be worried if you had something on your face or if he was judging you - Sae doesn't have the nicest look in the world, okay?

Nevertheless, you got used to it, giggling when you could feel his eyes gazing at you. You would often stare back and see him blink, turning away immediately, insisting that he was not staring.

In public though, his... foul mouth would get the better of him if it wasn't you who caught him staring.

Itoshi Rin

"Stepping stones" was something Itoshi Rin would often call every match he went through, every rival, and every person that had some sort of irritating or impressive skill on the field. His teammates were the closest things he could call a friend, but if he considered them a friend was an entirely separate matter.

Of course, there would always be an exception - you. Though, you weren't really safe from his sharp tongue despite how much he softened up when it came to you.

You would once in a while get called "idiot" by Rin when you happened to hurt yourself accidentally or when you tried to do something stupid. Rin didn't really mean anything bad despite the insulting name-calling and you could tell.

It was his own personal way of telling you he was worried or concerned about you, his weird and confusing method of telling you he cared. Through the blunt and overly serious exterior he has, you melt all of that away and reached somewhere in his heart that made him crave you even more.

He hated being vulnerable around others, so you understood him down to the last detail. Sometimes, he's worried you took his words to heart, so he promises himself to melt in your arms once both of you are in private. You'll have his attention, just wait.

If he visibly notices you flinch or frown at his statement, guilt will eat him up from the inside. Despite not enjoying any display of affection, he'll quickly kiss you or holds your hand under the table in hopes of cheering you up.

Micheal Kaiser

This mischievous little shit is watching your response to everything as if it's an experiment. You were so... interesting - like a mix of chemicals that he was so curious to see the reaction of.

He was like an annoyingly enjoyable bee to be around, but you had grown to love his constant buzzing around you. He'll randomly spurt and ramble about how much he loved you just to see that blush adorning your cheeks.

Teasing was always a must to him when it came to you, that shit-eating grin on his face after he happened to snatch that last slice of pizza from you or win against you in a game made you fall deeper in love again.

Pranks? Games? Surprises? He was all in for it.

And wow - this guy loves to boast about you. It doesn't matter who it is, his teammates, his rivals, online, who cares? That mouth of his couldn't be glued shut because he just loved to go on and on about you.

I JUST KNOW this guy loves to show you off in public too. When the both of you first announced your relationship, you could predict from that notorious smile of his that he would do this right at the stadium, where his charisma shines the brightest.

You're like a trophy, his most precious one. The whole world would have their eyes on the both of you, basking you in their attention, but painfully aware that such a gem like you belong to him and only him.

[myseungsunglove]

Kim Seungmin Masterlist

~Do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or otherwise repurpose or reuse any of the intellectual written property as posted by @myseungsunglove . All rights reserved and protected under copyright.

S - Smut F - Fluff A - Angst

44,640 Minutes (F) the reader is missing her boyfriend while he is away on tour. -June 28, 2023-

Waking up with You (F,S) Waking up the morning after your wedding. -July 5, 2023-

The Way You Make Feel (S)While getting obviously turned on watching Seungmin perform for the comeback, he notices your reaction while on stage. After the performances are finished, he drags you to a small room, his large hands eager to touch your body. With the promise that if you’re quiet the reward later will be even greater than what he is currently offering, you try your damndest to be the quietest you can while experiencing pure bliss. And with Seungmin’s long, slender fingers, it’s a task that proves much harder than you could have possibly imagined. -July 14, 2023-

Unexpected (A,F) You find yourself writing a letter to your boyfriend Kim Seungmin to tell him all of the seemingly small and insightful ways and not so small ways you have felt loved by him when you never expected to feel truly loved by anyone. -July 25, 2023-

When darkness comes, you’re always there (A,F) It's been one of those days where your demons win every argument. Beat you down and remind you how worthless you are. There’s only one person who offers any solace when you get this lost and that's Kim Seungmin. -August 1, 2023-

Love and Affection(F) Everyone expects Seungmin to be more reserved in public with you since it’s his first relationship, but he is anything but. -August 18, 2023-

Forever with You(F) Sometimes you and Seungmin don’t need words to express how deeply you love each other. -August 30, 2023-

Do Something(A,F) The reader can’t keep her feelings to herself anymore when it comes to Kim Seungmin. After a particularly trying day busy with practices and an impending concert, she explodes on her best friend, spilling her feelings for him but doesn’t exactly go about expressing those feelings in the best way. -September 10, 2023-

Love Without Words (A, S, F) There is nothing quite like a night with Seungmin to erase all need for words between you. -October 13, 2023-

Breaking Point (A, S) There is one relationship with a member that you can cut the sexual tension with a knife for several months now. Maybe it’s been longer, but it was finally pointed out to you by some of the other members and now the thought plagues your mind. You make it your goal to slowly chip away at Kim Seungmin’s resolve, bringing him to the breaking point. Little do you realize, he may be the one to break you. -October 22, 2023-

Dream a Little Dream (F) You’ve been dreaming about this man for weeks. You almost wish you could live life in the dream instead of the real world. Everything is easier there. It’s just you and him and no worries or cares. What if dreams really could become reality? -October 23, 2023-

All the Little Things (F) You fall in love with all the little things Kim Seungmin does. -November 4, 2023-

Fireplace Melodies (F) Soft thoughts about a quiet afternoon with Kim Seungmin. -November 27, 2023-

Let Me Count the Ways (F) soft thoughts about how each member absolutely adores Kim Seungmin. - December 3, 2023-

Bet You Won’t (F) soft sleep thoughts of kissing Kim Seungmin. -December 7, 2023-

I Wanna See You (S) - an entry for my smut prompt list. Seungmin has his way with you in front of the mirror, on the floor of practice room E in a bliss filled moment you won’t soon forget. -December 9, 2033-

A Beautiful Distraction (F) - Nothing is quite as distracting as Kim Seungmin. -December 19, 2023-

Only You (F) - An honest conversation with your best friend sometimes results in surprising revelations. -January 2, 2024-

You’re Gonna Pay for That (S) - no plot here, just smut smut smut. -February 16, 2024-

More than Willing (S) - Seungmin has been your constant since the moment you joined JYP Entertainment. He’s been your safe haven and your biggest supporter. When you became the 9th addition to Stray Kids in 2020, it only brought the two of you closer, but over the years there has been an unspeakable tension boiling at the surface, just waiting for a weak spot to break through and rear it's tempting head.  -February 28, 2024-

Eternity in Your Eyes (F) - You never thought this day would come, but here you are at the first day of the rest of your life. -March 6, 2024-

First Pitch (A, F) -Seungmin struggles to understand why his fiance can’t be by his side on one of the most important days of his life.  -April 11, 2024-

I Know, Jagiya (F) - Confessing your love for someone is always a risk. -April 22, 2024-