#this is the type of shit that changed me permanently

[sailorsoons]

greedy (k.sy & c.hs)

PAIRING: Soonyoung x f. reader x Vernon

SUMMARY: Vernon is good at a lot of things - Soonyoung wants to help him be good at one more thing. 

WC: 1,151

AU: Idol AU

GENRE: Smut/PWP, Established Something

RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

WARNINGS: Zero plot, all porn baby. Not as detailed as I would like it to be because I’m trying to behave and keep this as a drabble. Explicit language, explicit sexual content including vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting, something akin to subspace after an orgasm, implied poly-relationship of some sort, one (1) instance of spitting. 

A/N: I’m going to be honest I wanted this to be better because this is literally my dream pairing but I am trying to keep this to a reasonable word count and very specific to what was requested instead of writing an entire 15k fic about these three idiots. 

A/N 2: Written for this request. 

MASTERLIST | ASK | FOR MY MILESTONE EVENT | PERMANENT TAG LIST

“DO YOU THINK I NEED TO PRACTICE THAT PART MORE, HYUNG?” Vernon’s voice is raspy as he looks beyond your shoulder to where Soonyoung leans against the couch. Nevermind that your back is pressed against Soonyoung’s bare chest, sliding as you melt further into the couch between his legs. “I want it to be perfect.” 

“No it’s perfect,” Soonyoung assures, hooking his chin over your shoulder. You’re heaving against him, short of breath and twitching. “You’re always a fast learner.”

“Can you not talk about dance practice right now?” You beg, squirming in Soonyoung’s lap.

It’s a fair question. You’re overheating, near the edge of insanity as Vernon’s fingers slow, pressing deep into your cunt where you throb around him while he talks to Soonyoung about fucking dance practice. You don’t give a shit about their dance practice right now, more focused on the fact that Vernon’s worked you toward an orgasm three times now, only for Soonyoung to force his hand away.

You are on edge, nails digging into the sides of Soonyoung’s thighs. He hisses in pain and pleasure, always liking when your teeth and nails come into play. 

Vernon wiggles his fingers and you feel pressure against your g-spot, making you whine. “Sorry, were we not paying enough attention to you?”

No, you think, but can’t say it. Vernon steals your ability to speak again, dragging his fingers along the walls of your cunt. It makes your eyes roll back and you tremble, feeling the pressure mount in the lower part of your stomach.

Soonyoung presses his mouth to your shoulder, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he makes his way toward your ear. He nips your earlobe playfully and you twist in his arms until they lock around your middle, keeping you controlled. 

“Greedy,” Soonyoung murmurs in your ear, his hot mouth pressed against you. His voice is gravely and rough. You clench around Vernon’s fingers, making the youngest of the two laugh. “I’m trying to teach Vernon something.”

“Vernon knows how to deny an orgasm, Soonyoung.” 

You throw Vernon a venomous glare and he grins, shuffling back and forth on his knees to get comfortable. He leans over your pussy and spits before pressing his thumb firm against your clit. You whine, unable to escape him while Soonyoung keeps a grip on you. 

Vernon looks half demon, half angel. He’s still fully dressed but his face is flushed along the cheeks, hair a little sweaty from the effort of edging you for what feels like eternity. His eyes are blown and dark, watching you with the type of awe that makes you see stars. 

“Please,” you beg. You’re not sure which one of them you’re asking. The dynamics between the three of you change every time you’re together, never quite the same, but always comfortable. “Please let me cum.” 

“He’s going to,” Soonyoung promises with a quick kiss to your temple. If Vernon is the angel-demon between your legs, Soonyoung is the god Vernong answers to right now. “But he’s trying to make you squirt, baby. That’s not always easy. Now hush while I teach.”

Fuck. Soonyoung has never been unable to do something he has set his mind to, and he’d been able to figure you out pretty quickly. Which is why it’s him instructing Vernon to fuck his fingers into you until you almost come before stopping again, which is why he makes Vernon drag you so close to an orgasm that you’re ready to cry. 

It is right there. You feel it as Vernon starts to pick up the pace again, fingers pressing in leisurely. You close your eyes, breathing shakily at the relief, feeling the slow build of your orgasm again. It winds deep in your cut, a feeling so tight that you know it’ll happen this time.

Soonyoung can sense it, so attuned to you that it’s like he knows what will happen before you do. One of his hands unwraps from around your waist, sliding down your stomach until he’s right above your pussy, hand settling over your lower abdomen. He murmurs something you can barely hear over your own heavy breathing and presses his palm firmly down.

A strangled fuck leaves your mouth. You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to force air in and out of your lungs. The pressure from Soonyoung’s hand on your lower stomach mixed with the way Vernon’s fingers hammer home each time boils your blood, turning you molten. It is so much and you can’t escape it, rooted between the oppressive heat in your stomach and the way they push and pull you. 

Your nails dig into Soonyoung’s thighs, sliding and raking down his sweaty skin. He ignores the sting, pressing his hand down harder as your ears start to ring, breath caught in your chest. It feels like you’re swelling, the pressure so packed that you’re going to pop and cease to exist.

Finally, you come undone with a hoarse shout, feeling the sudden flood of your orgasm as you melt around Vernon’s fingers. He doesn’t let up, the wet schlick of his fingers as he continues to finger fuck you audible over your gasping. 

“Fuck,” Soonyoung growls. “Just like that, good fucking girl. Keep going until she can’t take it, Vernon.”

You don’t know if you want to punch Soonyoung or thank him. Instead, you do nothing but turn into a puddle in his lap, going boneless when you finally can’t take the onslaught of Vernon’s fingers, giving way to nothing. 

On queue, Vernon’s fingers slow until gently, he removes them entirely. You’re twitching in Soonyoung’s hold, the sparks of your orgasm still firing even after it dies away. Soonyoung cradles you, pulling you further into his lap to keep you against his chest. 

Someone’s mouth is on your knee - Vernon’s - while Soonyoung’s is on your jaw, mouth gentle and murmuring something that you can’t hear. You’re successfully soaked from the waist down, feeling the air cool on the evidence of Vernon’s success at making you squirt around his fingers. 

They keep you like that, content to press butterfly-delicate kisses on your skin until you’re more coherent, coming back to yourself. You feel the weight of Soonyoung behind you, the rough scratch of Vernon’s fingers as he rubs his hands up and down your calves. 

“Fuck,” you wheeze, voice broken. Vernon chuckles, kissing your knee. “I think I died.”

“La panini more or whatever they say.”

Vernon sighs and corrects Soonyoung, “La petite mort.”

“That’s what I said,” Soonyoung assures him, nuzzling into your neck. That draws a tired smile from you. “Now get out of the way, Vernon. I want a taste.”

You make a strangled sound. “Who's greedy now, huh?” 

All three of you are gluttonous. You have been ever since whatever this was started a little over a year ago. It had been Soonyoung at first, taking as much as you’d let him and giving back tenfold. Vernon had somehow ended up in the mix, but now you can’t imagine him not being in the picture. 

Carefully, Soonyoung helps you out of his lap. He kisses Vernon briefly on the temple as they swap places, Vernon’s touch just as gentle and reverent. He murmurs a sweet thank you against your ear, squeezing your hip. 

You grin, happy. Happy and greedy. 

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[lydiasfalling]

SWEET CREATURE !

percy jackson x aphrodite! reader

➸✧˖*°࿐ taglist : open!

˗ˋˏ warnings : use of y/n, nothing else really ˎˊ-

‧₊˚✧ lydia’s yap fest ! ✧˚₊‧

happy valentine’s day everyone! hope you guys enjoy this. could possibly make this a series if it’s liked enough. love ya!!!

walking around camp half blood at this time of year seemed to mock you. the fellow aphrodite’s kids seemed to be focused on finding a valentine. now, dot get it twisted. you wanted a valentine. bad. the only problem with this was, well, your intense and completely obvious crush on percy jackson. something about his confidence and charismatic aura drew you in and ruined you for anyone and everyone else.

there was another problem with this. percy jackson happened to be your best friend. you had tried everything to get these feelings to go away. dating other camp members, having different flings, setting percy up with other people, and tartarus, you even had people give you love potions. nothing worked. it was getting unbearable for everyone surrounding the two of you. in particular, annabeth and grover seemed the most annoyed.

the pair had also tried to help you guys understand how perfect you two would be together. however, you and him both refused any sort of insinuation of romance. it’s not that you didn’t want to be with him. quite the opposite, actually. you just didn’t see the point of wasting your friendship by risking him not feeling the same way. keeping him close as a friend was better than loosing him.

infact, you had encouraged him to ask another camp member out. this led you to your current predicament, watching him as he walked with kailey ( a girl from cabin five ). this had been his choice—he insisted she was ‘interesting enough’. you could see by the look on his face that he didn’t truly enjoy her company all that much.

“ya know, this could all be avoided if you just told him how you feel.” annabeth said from next to you, throwing a pointed look in your direction. you chose to ignore the sarcastic tone of her voice as she spoke.

“how i feel? i feel like he’s my best friend and i can’t jeopardize that. they look to be having fun.” the second sentence came out as if you were trying to convince yourself as well.

as if the universe wanted to mock you more, percy and kailey made their way over to you. annabeth looked at you, praying that you noticed the bored look on percy’s face. you gave her a look as to say ‘stop it’ before turning to shoot a smile in the direction of the approaching pair. kailey seemed to have a permanent scowl on her face while percy’s expression shifted upon seeing you. his uninterested features changed to those of contentment when your smile entered his vision.

“hey, y/n!” percy’s pace increased the closer he got to you, leaving kailey slightly behind him.

“hey, perce. kailey.” you nodded in her direction, warranting an eye-roll from the girl. “what’re you guys up to?”

“just, ya know. walking around. sat at the dock for a little bit.” percy responded. him and kailey stood an unusual distance away from eachother.

“percy, im gonna go. come fine me when you’re done with. . . this.” kailey rolled her eyes for what seemed like tenth time in the short period that she stood there. she brushed his arm slightly before turning and walking away.

“well isn’t she just a ray of sunshine.” annabeth snorted, laughing slightly.

percy agreed quickly, “she’s. . . something. that’s for sure.” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“not feeling it?” you asked. he shook his head no, moving to sit next to you. his arm quickly fell over your shoulders.

this made annabeth abruptly stand up. “well, as much as i would love so stay and chat, i have shit to do. see you two later?”

“mhm. later!” percy said.

“bye, annie!” you added. as the girl walked away, you turned in percy’s direction. “is she really that terrible?” you asked.

“she’s . . . okay, i guess. not really my type.” his arm fell from your shoulders, hand moving to hold your own instead. this was something percy had developed on the numerous quests you two had gone on together. his need for physical closeness was something that many found annoying, but you found endearing.

“oh yeah? and what might your type be classified as?” you laughed.

“oh, ya know. i like a girl who’s smart, kind, funny, caring. all the usual things. i also like a girl who sets me up on dates with other people because she doesn’t realize i’m hopelessly in love with her. that’s my ideal woman.” he shrugged as if it were nothing.

your jaw had officially found the floor. “i—i’m sorry. . . what?” you were sure you had heard him wrong.

“you know what i said, y/n.” percy’s face turned serious as he turned his entire boy towards you.

“do i? because it sounds a lot like a confession.” you tried to lighten the situation, laughing slightly before halting.

“y/n, you’re making this extremely hard for me.” percy’s face had begun to turn a shade of crimson.

“how so?” you kept a serious face, struggling not to crack a smile.

“y/n. . . i’m completely and utterly in love with you. the way you laugh, the way you smile, the way you laugh again because, dam, i love that sound, the way you twirl the strand of hair by your ear when you’re nervous, the way you stick your tongue out slightly when you’re focused. i love the way that you talk about your niche interests and the way that you always put up with my bullshit. i love how deeply you care about everyone, even the people who don’t deserve it. i love the contentment in your eyes when we’re sitting at the beach. i love you because you’re you, and that’s the best person you can be.” percy didn’t once break eye contact through his speech.

it was official. this was the first time in your like that you had been rendered completely speechless. your palms became sweaty and your heart was racing. being a child of aphrodite normally meant you reacted better to love situations. this didn’t help you much now, though. instead, the only thing you could think of doing in that moment was leaning forward to connect your lips.

it wasn’t beautiful or a ‘sparks fly’ moment. it was quick and chaste, you moving away as quickly as you moved forward. once you pulled away, you looked percy in the eyes. his expression had shifted from one of fear to hunger. his hand came up, finding the back of your neck and pulling you into him again. his lips were warm and soft against yours. he tasted of sea salt and blue pancakes, a combination that only percy jackson could pull off. his free hand found it way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

once the two of you could no longer breathe, you both pulled away at a slow pace. he kept his forehead against yours.

“gods, i have been waiting a millennia to do that.” percy laughed, kissing your cheek. his head moved from yours to the crook of your neck.

“me too, perseus.” your hand reached up, lacing itself into his hair.

“fucking finally! gods, i was starting to loose hope!” grover said, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

“me too, honestly.” percy spoke, lifting his head to look at grover.

“you too?” you asked, confused.

“y/n, you’re literally the only person who didn’t know about percy’s massive crush.” grover explained.

you averted your gaze towards percy, who shrugged in confirmation. your face heated up. safe to say that you had managed to find yourself a valentine, though kailey from cabin five wasn’t too happy.

my masterlist

taglist : @lydiascabinsix @cowboylikemac @laufeysvalentine @raysmayhem-72

[guys-im-literally-spiderman]

a fic inspired by this, because i could not stop thinking about it.

“What’s your name?” The girl who’s name Eddie absolutely did not catch, yelled, while holding her microphone out to him. 

“I’m, Eddie.” He yelled back at her, not quite sure if their yelling was necessary in their quiet corner of the room, but totally loving the chaos anyway. 

“Are you single Eddie?”

“I am indeed.” 

“Would you like to change that?” 

That question was not hard to answer at all. 

“Absolutely.”

“Great, because otherwise this would have been a very short video.” Eddie laughed much harder than he expected to–and oh shit he is much tipsier than he thought. 

“So what’s your type then?” 

“You’re gonna hate me,” Eddie sighed, knowing that what he was about to say was painfully contradictory, but hey, you can't blame a guy for having his taste in men be permanently altered by a guy he had a crush on when he was 20. “So I like jocks… but like pretty boy jocks.” 

“Pretty boy jocks?”

“Yup.”

A smile grew on her face

“Oh easy, give me like 5 minutes.”

And she really wasn’t kidding when she said that. 

Eddie had barely had enough time to get himself another drink when he heard his name being called behind him. He whipped his head around to see– 

Holy shit

“Harrington?!” 

Steve Harrington stared at him with a look on his face that Eddie assumed was equally as shocked as his. But then he’s the first to move, pulling Eddie into an enthusiastic hug. 

“Eddie! Oh my god, it's been so long!” 

When Eddie is finally released from the hug enough to breathe he responds, “what are you doing here?” 

“A gay bar or Chicago?” Steve laughs. 

And, oh yeah, Eddie’s stupid fucking crush. If the butterflies are anything to go by, that’s still around. 

Before Eddie can respond the girl cuts in, “I’m sorry, what’s going on here?”

“We- uh-”

“We’re from the same town.” Steve fills in when Eddie cannot find the words to explain their fucked up found family situation. 

The girl laughs, “what are the chances, jesus!”

“But hey,” Steve smiles in a way that Eddie is sure cannont mean anything good for him, “At least you got his type pretty dead on.”

“Oh my god, I forgot I told you that.” Eddie groans and full body cringes. And Steve just laughs. A frustratingly lovely laugh. 

“I’m not surprised you were very high.” 

Jesus fucking christ.

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (9) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request closed

note: some smut. some angst. some fluff <3

🏷️ permanent taglist:

@joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

when you arrive home, zion is fast asleep in jungkook's arms.

you tiptoe towards them and kiss zion's forehead. he shifts a bit but jungkook automatically pats his bum. he's literally asleep, yet his daddy senses are on. you aren't sure why, but your heart tugs at the sight... that's okay, right? for you to feel some type of way when you see them asleep together in your bed?

jungkook and zion truly look so alike.

from their doe-eyes to jungkook's cheeks—even their freaking hair! you can't help it. whenever zion gets hair cuts, he looks like a little man. a mini jungkook... and who wouldn't want that? jungkook has and will always be the most handsome to you.

yet, zion acts exactly like you. it's like the biggest bite in the ass ever. his pickiness and sensitivity root from you. the way he compromises and admits defeat (rarely) are completely you. his sweetness is copied by you but his cheekiness is definitely from jungkook.

zion is the perfect mix.

sometimes your heart aches. sometimes your heart fills up with joy. sometimes it makes you second-guess everything. sometimes it gives you gentle clarity.

"where's my kiss?" jungkook murmurs, eyes still closed.

your lips curve into a tired smile.

"have you guys been sleeping in my bed for the past 2 nights?"

jungkook rubs his eyes, sitting up. he then pulls his arm away from underneath zion's head. "yeah. he wouldn't sleep on his bed and i couldn't sleep on the couch. sorry, did i overstep—"

"no," you interrupt him. "what's mine is yours. it's always been like that."

he nods.

"still waiting for my kiss..."

you roll your eyes but give in. jungkook purses his lips, waiting for yours. instead, you kiss his forehead and pinch his cheeks.

"can you put him back in his room? i've been sleep training him to be more independent... and i miss my bed. he usually climbs into bed with me by 7am anyway."

sleepily, he complies with your request.

as he leaves with zion in his arms, you grab your flimsy nightgown from your closet and go to shower. then, as you step into your bathroom, you think about your closet... it definitely was a mess when you left.. yet, everything is folded so nicely. did he organize it up for you?

huh.

as you turn the water on and step in, you can't help but wonder what will happen tonight. sure, the nightgown is an obvious tell to jungkook that you're down to fuck—but aside from that... you wonder what else he could say or do tonight that will have you tossing and turning.

truth be told, the 2 nights away that was filled with work was exhausting. like, so beyond tiring that you felt miserable. it was so weird to be indulged in work and not come home to your boys... not that jungkook has been home with you since the separation; but the thought of it... it just... it felt good.

for the first time in a while, you felt it.

the want to be together.

as in, the desire to be a family in one house... all together... all over again.

it shook you to your core.

but there was also a relief that overcame your mind. you've never been the type to fight peace anyway (which is also why you asked for a separation 8 months ago... because you didn't feel any back then).

perhaps the poets are right.

time changes things.

people change.

... and so does love.

jungkook has a fistful of your nightgown while you have a fistful of his hair.

his tongue has been nothing short of perfection against your clit. there isn't a single inch of your pussy he hasn't devoured. he does it so well too. what you said was true... him eating you out is never relaxing.

of course, jungkook knew how to tease the shit out of you. how to drag your orgasms and make you last as long as possible. if he felt mean, he'd do it until you cried from how much your pussy throbbed from the edging. god, he was so mean sometimes.

but tonight, he's so nice to you.

he flicks his tongue at all the right spots. you squirm and all he does is wrap his arms around your legs and tug you closer. moving your pelvis to the rhythm of his licks; you feel yourself tighten and the need to close your legs. so, you do so. you close your legs, burying his face deep into you.

jungkook loves it.

god, he fucking loves this.

he eats you out like there's no tomorrow. he slurps you up as if you're the freshest thing to drink. he spits in between his sucking (completely unnecessary. you're literally drenching your sheets already) because he knows you feel it. you feel the heat of his saliva and the way it drips down your folds. how nasty it must make you feel because you like it so much.

again, jungkook loves this.

"that's it, honey..." he praises you. "doing so good. so fucking pretty—y-you're just the prettiest, aren't you? you know that, right? the absolute prettiest."

"s-shut up!"

"come on! ... my little starfish," jungkook chuckles. "say you're mine and i'll let you cum tonight."

you attempt to shoot him a glare. "t-thought you're gonna b-be nice to me tonight..."

he shrugs, reaching up and brushing the sweaty strand of hair off your forehead. "i'm whatever you want me to be."

you don't answer him. instead, you moan and murmur; "fine.. fine. yours. i'm yours."

sigh.

he loves this.

he loves you.

there is literally no other way of putting it.

he loves every hair pull you accidentally jolt to doing. he loves the way you mumble his name in between hitched breaths. he loves the way you watch as his head bobs up and down, right and left, and right in the middle. he loves the way you react to his nose, gliding and causing your pussy to pulsate like crazy. he loves the way you gasp when he slips his fingers inside you and the way your walls tighten around him.

it's everything.

to see you completely fall apart against his touch. to feel the way you let go of his hair and search for his hands, intertwine them, and need them the way you do. to see you come so undone; you release everything you have. you squirt, making a mess on his fingers. your gasps come out like stutters, but your moans take over.

a huge relief is lifted off your shoulders.

you can always count on jungkook for the most mind-blowing orgasm. he just knows your body so well. he does it so good. he's so good to you.

as you catch your breath, jungkook gets up to grab a towel from your cabinet. he returns to you, wiping your inner thighs and then your folds. he then lifts you up a bit to place the towel underneath. without an exchange of words, you open your arms and he collapse in them.

there, you two lay.

his head is on your chest as you play with his hair.

mumbling against your skin, he asks; "what time is it?"

"like.. 1am?"

"oh," jungkook yawns. "kinda early."

though it's true, you know you aren't as young as before. before, you two used to leave the house at 1am... now, with zion's routine and your career; you were usually asleep by 11pm.

"you're gonna regret saying that when zion comes in at 7am and jumps on the bed." you laugh, tugging on his hair a bit. "and when he demands for pancakes so you have to get up and cook them—"

"i can cook them."

"i know," you remind him. "you like making them heart-shaped... cos you like to show off."

"cos i love you, actually."

"yeah, yeah."

he chuckles and you kiss the top of his head.

then, a silence falls upon you two. a part of you wonders if he's asleep already and if you should shut your eyes and follow... but then, he speaks.

"are you okay?" jungkook asks you, as gentle as possible. "you just... you seem really stressed these days. you're handling everything well, by the way.. i just want to check up on you... cos i can take zion on the days you're busy, you know? it's no problem. i can also come by and help out in the house—"

"yeah," you think for a moment. "did you do my laundry? i saw everything in my closet was folded."

"i did."

"okay. thank you. you didn't have to."

"i know."

"okay."

jungkook sighs. "so... are you okay?"

you pause.

"should i quit?"

jungkook pulls away from you. he sits up and stares at you.

"are you kidding me?" is all he manages to say even though a million and one things run through his mind. "is that what you really want to do?"

"i d-don't..." you shake your head, eyes beginning to gloss with tears. "i just.. i feel so drained? like i'm not here for zion enough.. like i'm not present in moments with him. sometimes i cook breakfast without even realizing i'm burning the food because i'm daydreaming of a different life—i d-don't know. i don't know anymore. i'm so tired of winning all the time too. does that even... does that even make sense?"

jungkook looks at you sincerely. with all his heart, he can feel your pain and wants to do anything and everything to ease it. he knew something was up with you. he fucking knew it. you were like this before you asked for a break. you were like this when your best friend moved away. you were like this before graduating from law school.

it's a lot.

he knows it.

you have a lot on your plate and you've always been on the go. jungkook has been fortunate enough to have had time in his career and projects to pace himself... whereas you've always been the best of the best. the demands are crazy and coming home to wanting to be the best mom possible (which you are) must be completely exhausting.

he can't imagine how stressed you must be. he can't imagine what it's like to be you. he can't imagine what it's like to not be with you in moments like these.

"hey," he reaches out for you. you tighten your lips before burying your face to his chest. he wraps his arms around you, stroking your hair and easing your mind with his words. "you're brilliant, you know that? you have completely paved such a life for zion. you did it for yourself too... and it's tiring. i can't imagine how tired you are, honey. it's okay to rest and it's okay to need help. it's okay to put things down and it's okay to pick them up again when you're ready. you don’t have to do big things just because you’re capable of it… doing the right small things is good too. it’s more than enough, actually. ___, if you want to quit, if you want to lose, if you want to not want anything—so be it. do it all or do nothing at all... do it and let me be beside you through it all. i'm always going to believe in everything you do. i'm always going to give you what you need. i don’t want you to burn out. i’m here to protect you, you know? i'm always just... going to be... and you're... you're always going to—"

"shut up." you place your finger on his lips. "c-can you just hold me tonight or something? put me to sleep."

"okay, baby. should i sing you a lullaby too?" he chides as he kisses the top of your head. a little sleepy, he shuts his eyes as he rests his chin on top. as you pull yourself closer to him, you rest your head on his chest.

"... and can you leave more clothes here?"

jungkook's eyes shoot open. his heart flutters and in every possible way there is; he falls in love with you all over again.

"y-yeah," he clears his throat, attempting to hold himself together. "i can do that. i can leave more clothes here."

"okay," you yawn. "i love you... always."

"always," he repeats. "... forever too! i love you forever."

you snicker, teasing him about how cheesy he is. he laughs, blaming you for starting it. soon, you two talk about each other's day and little things zion does that make your heart glow. suddenly, then all at once, you two fall asleep.

it's beautiful, isn't it?

to be falling in love at the same time (once again).

you were right.

not that jungkook doubted you or anything—but you were right.

zion climbed into bed with you two at 7am. his eyes were barely open as he dragged mr kookie along with him. a few whines escaped his lips as he's frustrated and half asleep. to soothe his son, jungkook pulls him in and wraps him in his embrace.

you're still asleep when this happens but the slight movements make you responsive. shifting, you put your arm around jungkook and nuzzle yourself into the crook of his neck. he stretches his neck and kisses your forehead. then, he turns to his other side and does the same to zion.

zion then lets out a sleepy giggle from jungkook's kiss. his eyes are fluttering shut, but it's obvious he's fighting the sleepiness.

"dada?"

"mhm?"

mid yawn, zion asks; "you stay?"

"i'm staying."

jungkook breathes this moment in and holds you and zion tighter. he can't believe how lucky he is. how blessed he is for this second chance. how happy he is for this new beginning.

he’s so grateful for his forever and always.

[ethereal-blossom]

Giving BSD boys a blowjob for the first time

ft. dazai, kunikida

warnings: blowjobs (surprise!) MDNI

a/n: kinda wrote these in mind thinking it was also giving them a handjob for the first time so I guess that's double the fun!

Dazai Osamu ♡

Your eyes looked up to find Dazai's face, searching for a sign of approval. In response, Dazai let out a validating, soft moan and closed his eyes as he nodded. "You're doing excellent, belladonna."

It wasn't unexpected. Dazai, sharp and observant as a hawk, had seen the way your eyes lingered over every small change in his facial expressions. While you were dating, both of you had agreed to take things slow. Even small milestones like holding hands was a huge thing for the man that was wrapped in bandages. The slow burn of deepening your relationship into each other's hearts until it left a permanent mark that even time couldn't erase, was wonderful.

But with time grows desire. Dazai teased you to the point of dilated pupils, hitching breaths, and a blush that cups your cheeks. Exactly like planned, the detective thought, smirking behind the mask of crafted innocence. Except, the plan had been for you to beg him to touch you; not that you would beg to make him feel good as your fingers pushed his hips onto the couch. Dazai is highly aware of his intelligence that makes him read people as if they are a children's book, but sometimes, he thinks he doesn't always grab your nature. The type of nature that has you on your knees in front of him, getting high off of his pleasure.

When you wanted to focus your attention back on the twitching cock in your hand, the sight of Dazai's fingers grabbed your attention. You knew Dazai better than any living soul. Although still a mystery novel that hides behind words of deceive and avoidance to keep parts of itself hidden until the time of reveal is there, this mystery novel was slowly showing you its pages that brought you closer to the truth.

One of the mysteries revealed was Dazai's massive self-control over his external reactions. Emotions were another vulnerable aspect of what it meant to be human, and Dazai hid them masterfully. A part of that was because it functioned as a tactic to reach his goals and stay in control, but a part of you wondered if it was because Dazai feared vulnerability more than a bullet. Emotional suffering is torture for the ones with a sensitive heart.

While Dazai's face was decorated in controlled bliss and his moans playing like a soft lullaby, the slender fingers around the sheets were clinging for dear life. You see... could you make another crack in that composed facade?

Your thumb starts drawing circles over Dazai's tip and with that, you witnessed the twitching of both his cock and fingers. A soft groan escaped Dazai's clenched jaw. "Ah, that's my belladonna. You're soo good to me, hm? Working hard for that reward." That controlled tone...

... It wasn't enough.

Dazai could tell something changed. Even though he had his eyes closed in concentration, clinging to the tiny bit of control he had, he noticed how your stroking became irregular. "What's filling your mind that isn't my- argh, shit." Dazai's eyes shot open as he bolted his hips deeper into your mouth, leaving you gagged for a good second.

That face of pure shock and arousal, the one you rarely got to see on your lover, revealed itself to you as you had taken Dazai's tip into your mouth. "Y/N, that's-"

Another lick and Dazai's original sentence was replaced by a moan, and the detective felt like all control slipped between his fingers when you placed your hands around the rest of his cock.

Dazai grabbed your hair, hissing you to go slower because oh God, he was about to cum faster than he ever did in his twenty-two years of living, and God knows he did not want this euphoria to end this soon. Oh, he really wasn't used to feeling this good-

"Belladonna, y/n, please-" Dazai didn't know what he was begging you for. For you to go slower? Faster? What it was, you hummed in approval. That little vibration was all it needed for Dazai to throw his head in his neck. His toes curled as high-pitched whines fell over lips that had become swollen in a miserable attempt to hide his moans.

When you looked up after swallowing, you were met with Dazai's bangs hanging over his eyes. "Osamu, are you okay?" Worried, you push the chocolate colored bangs aside and... oh.

He was so pretty with scarlet painted cheeks. Dazai couldn't even look you in the eyes, giving up after one second of eye-contact before shyly facing another side with his head. "That was... good. For a first attempt."

You chuckled as your hand caresses the cheek that faced your way and with a slightly hoarse voice you respond: "Good. I'll make you even feel better next time."

Dazai's hands twitch one last time before he closes his eyes and mentally picks up every string that he lost along the way. As the detective opens his eyes, you can see the control and seduction in those dark eyes that you love so much.

Dazai leans closer until you feel his breath on your ear. His lips tickle and a shiver runs down your spine as he whispers: "Someone has earned that reward, hasn't she? Let's see how long I can make you last."

Kunikida Doppo ♡

Rubies could not compete with the radiant red glow of Kunikida's face as he realized what you were about to do. The detective should have known you were up to something when he was preparing today's schedule and you had popped up behind him, placing your arms around his waist as you kissed his neck and whispered: "Keep a spot open at 8 PM, love."

Even when the blond had asked for details, your lips stayed sealed. The only hint Kunikida got out of you was "Dazai has made you work over-hours; I want to treat you."

Naively, innocently, Kunikida thought you might have a dinner or massage in mind. Not that he was wrong! It was just a... different type of massage. With your tender fingers wrapped around his cock, Kunikida clenched his jaw to not make a sound, but the moan slipped away as he sighed your name: "Y/n... I, we-"

"Does it feel good, Doppo?" You made sure to rub his tip with your thumb right then, making the detective's cock drop with pre-cum.

"It- yes... yes, it feels good."

Looking up blessed you with the sight of an orderly man turned into a mess under the tip of your fingers. A wave of arousal rushed through your body, seeing the man unravel in front of you. You figured he would be vocal, but oh-

Kunikida was sensitive. The smallest movement had him throwing his head back and trusting his hip as tiny moans calling your name filled the room. Not only were his cheeks the color of fire due to the heat of your touch, but the intimacy of it all left him flustered as well.

You felt a hand rest on your head, lightly gripping a bit of hair. "Y/n... we, you- I have to make you feel good, too."

Oh. "That has to wait."

"But- ah!" The hand around your hair tightened in response to your mouth taking his cock.

Kunikida's thoughts were twirled up in the storm that was you. Your name rolled off his tongue like worshipping prayers as you brought Heaven to earth for him.

The bliss of touching Heaven became too much, and with one closing word, Kunikida fell apart. He arched his back, forgetting to bite his lip to soften the groans that might slip through the walls where his colleagues live. His grip around you tightens, never wanting to let you go, never wanting to let this feeling go. But then Kunikida realizes he's still on earth and lessens his grip on the fear he's hurting you.

The detective looked into your eyes, but they were filled with lust directed at him and God, it felt so sinful that he had to deflect his gaze. Yet, you grabbed his chin and made your boyfriend face you.

"Do you feel better?"

Kunikida stammered, trying to get out a word. "Yes, that was," an embarrassed cough, "excellent." 

Your thumb caressed his lip. "Good."

And then, the world flipped around as Kunikida lay your back on the bed. "I have done a deep-dive research on how to please you when the time was there. Now, let me return the favor." 

[dolliedyhard]

🔪Jeff The Killer Headcanons🔪 [PART 1]

I think is about time I posted my headcanons for him! BOY I did not plan this post to be sooooooo long, I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY OMGGG!!! I LUV HIM SO MUCH (  ੭꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)੭ ᰔ. I might have to make this into a multiple part series on my blog. These are all hc’s for adult Jeff, I have completely different ones for when he was a teen and I’ll make one for teen Jeff later on. None of these hc’s involve his relationship with Dollie or other pastas, this is all about him. All of this is SFW. Enjoy <3

‼️TW: mentions of self harm‼️

���︎A/N: btw this is my first time making/posting hc’s so plz don’t jump me if they’re bad- (/ _ ; )

♥︎Appearance & Attributes♥︎

He’s 25 y/o

6’4

Straight

White American

Full name is Jeffery Woods. I’ve always liked his name the way it was so I’m not changing it.

Muscular and lean. He’s got more of a sleeper build tho.

Despite being lit of fire he managed to heal his hair, it’s healthy now.

He loves keeping his hair long. He’ll never CONSIDER cutting it short. His hair is one of his favorite parts of himself.

He for certain wants his hair to be down to his waist one day

Hair type is 1c

Jeff’s hair is naturally brown. When the “incident” happened the fire made his hair temporarily black. (Ik that’s not how real logic works but cmon let me have fun >:c)

After a few months his hair went back to brown

Now he dyes his hair black bc he prefers it that way.

His tattoos don’t mean anything, he just got them because he thought they were cool.

He smells like incense and ash most of the time.

If he decided to finally wash his clothes then he smells like clean laundry.

He doesn’t wear cologne, he’s never cared for it.

He showers like twice a week. For the rest of the week he just wipes himself down this a cloth.

At least he uses a soap cloth (oh thank GOD)

When “the incident” happened his face scars would constantly bleed and wouldn’t close.

It was really sensitive and if he smiled or laughed to hard it would gush out again.

It took multiple years for the wound to permanently close.

It’s completely healed now it’s just deformed skin

The scars on his body are from fights, him doing stupid shit or self harm.

He’s not hairy, some underarm hair but that’s all

His veins are most visible in his forearms and hands

I don’t have a voice claim for him (YET!) but his voice is pretty deep and it has a raspy sound to it

He has dark circles under his eye from staying up for days at end

He got some sharp ass canine teeth. In my AU he got bit by a vampire. He didn’t get turned into one bc the transformation was stopped right after his vamp fang came in.

Warm to the touch. Doesn’t matter what season it is, his body manages to retain a significant amount of body heat.

His skin is very pale due to lack of sunlight and frequent blood loss.

♥︎Personality♥︎

When meeting him for the first time he comes off as an asshole.

He insults everyone and it’s hard to hell if he’s joking or not.

And if he’s really pissed he’ll get REAL creative with the insults.

Swears like a sailor

He’s distant and off putting to people that aren’t in his circle.

He loves showing off and will do it no matter what. Even if the circumstances are dangerous.

Jeff loves stroking his ego, it’s so obnoxious but he could care less.

Lowkey thinks he better than everyone

LAWD he’s handsome and he knows it

Doesn’t care about ur personal space

Will creep up on u to whisper shit in ur ear to scare you. And other stuff like that.

Gives people the nastiest stares of all time. And I dare u too say something to him about it, he’ll square TF UP.

Says some really offensive shit but he doesn’t care if you get upset because of it.

And he’ll say it loud and proud no matter how much of a dumbass he looks like saying it.

Jeff’s one of the most defiant proxies in the mansion

He listens to NO ONE and hates more than anything to be bossed around.

Though he partially listens to Slenderman, yk, bc he has to so he can live in the mansion. Masky too bc he’s Slenderman’s right hand man.

Can’t laugh like a normal person to save his life

Like he’s literally out of breath, red face, everything

“How do I befriend him?!?” I hear you say

Like I said before he loves his ego being satisfied so u could just blow smoke up his ass.

But to him you’ll be more like a “fan” than a friend.

And he will just use you for his benefit. He’ll step all over u since you’ve shown ur willing to be submissive to him ＿|￣|○

Show him you’re not to be fucked with but not to be intimidated by.

For Jeff it’s more about if you guys get along and have a good time together than having the same interests.

Jeff only plays favorites if he has a crush on you

Oh boy is he one petty motherfucker… He holds grudges over anything with anyone and is very vengeful.

He’s quick to temper too. He’ll go into a rage induced episodes and they can last for days at a time.

That’s due to his IED (Intermittent Explosive Disorder) and just him being a fucked up person.

He also has BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder)

He’s not trying to manage his IED by being more laidback and comedic but that’s not really helping.

Not a big fan of animals. So if you were to ask him what is fav animal was he wouldn’t say any.

♥︎Interests♥︎

Wannabe lead guitarist

He’s not good enough to be the lead but his ego says otherwise.

He owns a sick ass guitar tho

Started out being emo in his early teens, now he’s more of a metal head.

(I don’t know much about nu-metal or any metal at ALL so I can’t rlly say who his favs are. SORRY IM AN EMO FUCK AT HEART OKAY???)

Listens to goth music occasionally too

Loves going to concerts no matter who’s performing

If you happen to bring up a band he’s seen live before he will 100% without fail say “I saw them live at _!” And will proceed to info dump about what went down.

Even worse if they were in their prime when he went.

Fashion wise he dresses alternative but it’s nothing fancy.

A band tee + hoodie or jacket, jeans, shoes (cons, or boots), for accessories belt and some spikes bracelets. That’s about it :v

And yes he does consider his piercings as accessories.

Paints his nails black on special occasions

Likes to collect weird stuff

His biggest collection is of knifes

Some of them are ornamental and some he actually uses to kill

He gets the money to fuel his collection off the dead bodies of his victims

Also has a strange fascination with history

Specifically historical torture methods & atrocities

Sometimes he uses the same torture methods he learned about on his victims.

HUGE HORROR NERD

He collects dvds of slasher & horror movies

And of course you can’t forget about the vintage TV to play them on!

He’s not a fan of snuff films or gore videos

It just takes out the art out of film making. Why should he watch uninspired shock gore for 0% satisfaction when he can go cause it for 100% satisfaction?

♥︎Killing♥︎

To Jeff killing is something he does for 3 things. Survival, satisfaction, and emotional regulation.

Once he’s got you in his grasp you won’t make it out alive.

Jeff commits the worst murders when he’s having a IED or BPD episode.

He’s not a kidnapper type serial killer

He likes to get the job done by the end of the day at the longest

He loves the taste of blood and often licks it off his knife

He thinks he can train himself to be able to taste the differences between blood types.

He just likes inflicting pain on complete strangers, it’s thrilling to him.

And it’s usually not a stab and go kill, when he first started out that’s how it was bc it was more for survival.

Now Jeff has the taste for blood. And he’s got some horrifyingly creative ways to extract it.

Nowadays you’ll be lucky if it’s a stab and go. His goal is to make sure u feel the agony, every. second. of. it.

He would never consider hurting someone close to him, that would severely fuck with him.

Since the murder of his family he has no one. So he cherishes the few people close to him a lot more than he used to.

He’s never had any regrets about any of the many murders he has committed.

The one and only time he’s ever felt bad about inflicting violence on someone is his older brother Liu.

♥︎Vices♥︎

Jeff is a regular smoker (hence why he smells like ash)

He’s able to blow different shapes out of smoke

Prefers cigarettes over anything else

Hates vapes tho, he think they make you look like a massive pussy.

He’ll flat out refuse to fw you if you whip out your fruity-tuti flavored e-stick when yall go on a smoke break.

Jeff’s not a big drinker

Drinking just ups his already high sex drive to the max and he acts like a complete idiot when he’s drunk. Then after all that his hangover is fucking hell.

At the most he’ll get a bit tipsy cause the boost in arousal makes sex tenfold better.

Jeff’s never done any hard drugs and doesn’t care to.

Who needs a drug addiction when you have a murder addiction?

Okay so about the self harm earlier…

♥︎A/N: Btw in my au Jeff had a much shitter life than the og Jeffery Woods so all of this with context makes sense.

Jeff doesn’t s/h anymore but did it heavily in his teens before he went crazy.

His life was genuinely a miserable hellscape that was picking at his sanity and at every turn it only got worse.

His mother and father didn’t care about him at all. The only person that actually cared and loved Jeff was Liu. But Liu rarely showed any affection towards Jeff so it didn’t really matter how Liu felt about him.

No one knew what Jeff was doing to himself up until he ended up in the hospital with the gashes on his cheeks.

You have reached the end. TYSM FOR READING!!!

I hope you enjoyed reading my headcanons, and I will be doing more hc’s in the future for other creepypastas.

Stay frosty❄️ BAIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!

[eli0004]

Fuck me With Feelings

Pairing: Fwb!Jean Kirstein x reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Jean and reader have been casually fucking, but Jean quickly learns that the whole no strings attached thing isn’t working for him. After confessing to reader, he’s unsatisfied with her response, but neglects to say anything and resumes their meetups as usual. He quickly finds out how badly he misunderstood, when the two of them engage in some very heavy, passionate and emotional sex on the kitchen floor.

Contains: marijuana usage, fem!reader, unprotected sex, fwb arrangement, praise, slight overstimulation, jean talks too much, biting, possessiveness, pining, jean is in love and SO soft for reader, fluffy shit, yk…the usual, no power dynamics.

“Wait…grab me the salt” You speak, lowering the cookbook to look at the tall male standing in front of you.

“Salt.” Jean announces as he sets the small white shaker on the counter beside you. You nod curtly, glancing at him out of the corner of your bleary red eyes with a smile as you turn back to the mixing bowl in front of you. Time is moving in slow motion, and all you can think about is getting some food in your stomach.

“Thanks. Now, it says we’re supposed to pour the mixture into the pan? Wait…shit, aren’t we supposed to butter the pan first?”

The two of you look at each other in shared confusion for a moment, before he begins laughing. You scoff in annoyance, rolling your eyes and shoving the cook book towards him to see for himself.

“Jesus Jean, can you be serious for 5 minutes?” You glare. The sandy-blonde stops laughing and looks at you with an unreadable expression, brown eyes glimmering with mischief before you both erupt in laughter.

As the giggles die out, he pokes at your side, causing you to jump in surprise, before stepping away from the counter.

“Alright alright, out of the way.” He sighs happily, taking the bowl from your hand. “Just leave it to the professional.” He turns up his nose, grinning playfully, as you roll your eyes and groan at his feigned arrogance. You slap his shoulder as you move away from the counter to change the music playing through your kitchen speaker.

It’s a Friday night, and the rain is coming down in sheets, slamming against your windows aggressively. Jean, dressed in a pair of grey sweats and a black oversized hoodie, had come over earlier in the evening as he has so many times before, although this time in particular, different from the rest. His demeanor had seemed slightly off, and it was clear something was on his mind, though he only seemed frustrated when you’d initially prodded.

The two of you had been seeing each other for months in secret, having mutual friends who would tease you both relentlessly if they found out you two were fucking. Because that’s all it was anyway, just harmless fucking. No strings attached, just blowing off steam. There wasn’t any need to announce it, and the both of you would’ve rather kept your business to yourselves anyway.

As time went on, however, Jean found himself hopelessly in love, having accidentally attached all the strings you’d told him to leave unattached. Your twinkling eyes, your sweet smile, the first thought he thinks in the morning, the last one of the night. Unbeknownst to him, the feeling was mutual, and you’d also quickly found yourself wanting to spend more time together outside of the bedroom. Earlier that morning, in a burst of courage Jean had texted you:

“i don’t think i can keep fucking with no feelings. I’m sorry…i just don’t know how to turn them off.”

Without much thought, you typed out a response:

“Ok…fuck me with feelings then. Duh.”

And that was that. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, stomach in knots all day, and a permanent frown etched onto his face. He felt defeated, stupid, for thinking he could stay away from you even if you didn’t feel the same.

The day progressed as usual, Jean arrived at your place 8 PM as usual, the two of you got violently high together as usual. By midnight, hungry and handsy, the two of you ended up in the kitchen trying to follow a recipe for skillet gnocchi, despite your altered cognitive abilities.

“Professional” Jean Kirstein is actually pretty good at cooking when he isn’t stoned out of his mind. But the task at hand is proving to be difficult now. The man stares at the skillet on the stove in confusion as you flip through your Spotify playlist. Recognizing the silence, you turn to him and glance over his shoulder.

“Everything ok over there?” You ask, raising a brow.

“Nothing is happening.” He states, matter of factly.

“Did you turn on the stove?”

“Oh..” He blushes furiously, thick brows pulling together as he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Well, shit” You immediately burst into laughter, slapping his shoulder a second time, affectionately.

“Wow! So “professional” of you!” You all but shout, doubled over against the counter and clutching your stomach. He rolls his hazy honey brown eyes, unamused at your exploitative jokes.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” He grumbles, turning away from you to find the stove dial. You sigh contentedly as your laughter subsides.

“Oh Jeanbo~ you’re so fucking cute…” you hum mindlessly, gazing at him with a dopey smile.

…

Jean freezes. It’s the first time he’s ever really heard you say something like that, and the affection dripping from your words has his stomach fluttering and his mind reeling. It’s unfair, really, and it irritates him. He turns to look at you in surprise, brows furrowed, eyes meeting yours before he looks to the ceiling. His reddened cheeks puff out as he contemplates a response.

“Uh…you mean that?” He asks, suddenly feeling vulnerable. His eyes scan your face for any signs of dishonesty, wondering if you might be playing with his heart to get what you want from him. The way you’ve been speaking to him tonight is so drastically different than how you’ve been treating him for the last few months. Not that you’ve been treating him poorly, you’ve just never been this open about how you feel towards him. Your words feel deliberate and meaningful whereas before you’d only compliment him like that when your eyes were lust-blown and your hands were all over his body.

“Obviously, i thought we established that this morning” you deadpan, head tilting to the side.

“No, not really, i actually had no idea what to make of it.”

There’s a moment of silence as you two stare at each other, before the realization hits and you begin to feel guilty. Had your message not been as clear as you’d initially hoped it would be? Unsure of what to say, you close your mouth. Jean takes your silence as confirmation, and sighs, shoulders slumping dejectedly, quietly turning back to the stove to turn it on.

Thinking for a moment, you frown, drawing shapes on the countertop with eyes cast down like a kicked puppy. Wiggling out of your seat, you approach him where he stands at the stove, gazing up at him with a soft, nearly sympathetic smile. He doesn’t dare look at you, afraid his burning face will betray him, knocking down his mask of fragile-aloofness.

“Jean…” you tilt your head to the side, hair falling over your shoulder. Bringing a hand to his back, you draw slow, gentle circles there. He shivers, but his silence is unwavering. “Baby~ you know something?” You hum.

Jean glances at you and shrugs, tossing some stuff you don’t care to look at into the pan.

“I think you’re so handsome. I think you’re adorable, and goofy, and sweet. I think anyone would be lucky to be the object of your affection. I feel lucky that i get to be…” you coo at him, your hand dipping below his hoodie to scratch his bare back, how he likes it. He can’t help but smile at your words, blinking slowly as he turns to look down at you, your faces only a few inches apart from each other. “Yeah?” He whispers “go on”

You snort, rolling your eyes playfully at his blatant request for praise, and reach out to click the stove off, having a feeling about where this was going to lead.

“You’re funny, you always make me laugh…“ you whisper “You’re strong” squeezing his bicep slightly with your other hand, you rake your eyes down his body. “So sexy~”

The man’s cheeks are impossibly red, his head is spinning and his body feels like it’s burning up as he listens to you sing his praises. He glances down at your lips, nearly nose to nose with you as he grins. “What else?”

You smirk, beckoning him to turn and face you head on and pressing your body against his own. Your hands place themselves on his chest as you murmur “You’re all mine.”

Something feral snaps within him and he all but attacks your lips, pinning your hips against the counter with his own. Your hands scramble to grab onto the fabric of his hoodie, desperately yanking at it as you peel it off of him. Your lips dance together fervently, pressing against each other with such passion, as if he’s worried you’ll slip away from him if he doesn’t hold you tightly enough.

He shoves his hands under your college sweatshirt, running his warm palms over your bare breasts and brushing his thumbs over your peaked nipples. His touch draws a sharp gasp from your mouth against his lips, and he swallows the sound of it.

You lick against his bottom lip and he accepts it urgently, parting his lips and moving his eager tongue in rhythm with your own. Tangling your hands into the roots of his sandy blonde hair, you push your hips forward to grind against his erection and he throbs, soft, sweet groans muffled against your lips.

Jean grips your waist tightly, pulling you against him as he backs himself up against the counter, sliding down to the floor. Pulling you on top of him, he settles you against his lap, tossing his head back when your lips attach to the column of his throat.

“Fuck baby…fuck” he gasps, feeling you sucking bruises into the skin. All visible places, and he knows why. The possessiveness, the feeling of finally belonging to you, it sends waves of intense arousal coursing through his bloodstream. Every movement you make, grinding your hips down against his hard cock sends his mind reeling with pleasure, senses wildly heightened by the pot in your systems.

“Gonna tell everyone that you’re mine baby, i’m so…fuck- happy you’re mine” he groans, guiding your hips to move against. You gasp softly at the friction, becoming increasingly wetter by the minute.

You pull away and quickly shimmy out of your pants, as best as you can while straddling the man’s lap. He brings his fingers down, eyeing the cute panties you wear before yanking them aside to collect your arousal on his fingers.

“Fuck..you’re so wet for me, all for me” he growls as he dips his slick digits into your pussy. His fingers are long, nimble, and curl up deliciously into the spongy spot inside you. You moan softly, feeling every inch of his middle and forefinger in places that your own fingers could never hope to reach.

“Oh god..Jean~ Fuck me” you moan out, rutting against his hand. He slides his fingers out of your hole, rubbing them against your clit and covering it in your own arousal. Tossing your head back, you groan at the loss of internal sensation, but you have no time to be disappointed as you hear him eagerly yanking the waistband of his sweats and underwear down to let his aching cock spring free. He’s leaking more than you’ve ever seen, precum dripping down the slit of his sensitive head and collecting below his navel.

Leaning in for another eager kiss, you swat his hand away and wrap your fingers around his shaft. He’s so deliciously thick, you can almost feel the stretch, the memory of it causing your cunt to throb. Biting his lip gently, you give him a few languid strokes, spreading the sticky precum over the length of him and guiding him to your entrance. His mind is hazy, he jolts as the sensation overwhelms him. You feel different this time, though he can’t pinpoint why.

You slide his tip through the slick folds of your pussy, before enveloping him in your wet warmth. jean nearly chokes on the strangled moan that erupts from his chest as you pull away from the kiss to toss your head back, breathing out a soft “fuck”.

His hands eagerly grip your waist, guiding you up and down on him slow and passionate. The pleasure coursing through him is building quickly in the form of an impending, earth shattering orgasm at the very core of his abdomen. The coil in his tummy, while not unfamiliar, is seemingly more intense than it’s ever been, he won’t last long. Why is he getting close so fast?

Suddenly it occurs to him as you bring your lips back to his own, kissing him passionately, and packed full of raw, unfiltered emotion. He feels wanted, he feels loved, he feels complete. Perhaps it’s the intimacy of having himself sheathed inside of you raw for the first time, it must be. Sex with you has never felt so intense and fulfilling than it does in this moment.

Your hips are moving quicker now as you chase your orgasm, every inch, every ridge, every vein of his length stroking your insides like it was hand crafted to fit there. Feeling your legs tense up, and your stomach begin to tighten, you throw your arms around Jean’s neck and pull him close, biting down on the muscle of his broad shoulder as you cum impossibly hard, eyes rolling back with a loud moan. He snakes his arms around your waist, holding you tightly there as he snaps his hips up into you, slamming into your cervix like his life depends on it. The feeling of your teeth in his skin threatens to push him over the edge.

“Baby! Right there- oh god keep doing that, don’t let go of me!” He rasps against the shell of your ear, and as you sink your teeth in deeper, mewling softly at the overstimulation, Jean cums with such intensity, he thinks he might ascend. More and more spurts out of him, and his body convulses with every rope of it, lurching him forward to moan loudly, muffled into your hair.

The sound of ragged breaths and sharp gasps echo off the kitchen walls as you both come down from the high of your orgasm, bodies tangled together and unmoving. After a minute, Jean’s hand finds itself in your hair, running his fingers through it affectionately. Something he’s wanted to do for a long time. He gazes down at you with adoration replacing old lust, smiling softly as you pull back to look at him.

The two of you stay that way for a minute or two, just panting against each other before he speaks.

“So…uh- does this mean-“ he glances down at the floor and then back up to meet your eyes.

“You’re never gonna get away from me” you grin, plopping down against his chest in exhaustion as you giggle slightly. He bites his lip, excitement bubbling up in him like a little kid, as he holds you tightly.

“Why would i ever wanna?”

[calliesmemes]

EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”

“   Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”

“   I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”

“   Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”

“   Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”

“   Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”

“   Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”

“   My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”

“   Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”

“   It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”

“   If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”

“   Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”

“   I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”

“   I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”

“   I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”

“   Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”

“   Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”

“   I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”

“   Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”

“   i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”

“   These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”

“   I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”

“   I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”

“   DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”

“   I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”

“   Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”

“   My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”

“   I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”

“   Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”

“   I was born for shock value. ”

“   Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”

“   Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”

“   Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”

“   Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”

“   My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”

“   This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”

“   I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”

“   Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”

“   My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”

“   I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”

“   I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”

“   Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”

“   Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”

“   Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”

“   girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”

“   BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”

“   I just gave your address to some spiders! ”

“   I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”

“   I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”

“   Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”

“   I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”

“   Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”

“   I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”

“   I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”

“   Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”

“   Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”

“   Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”

“   If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”

“   Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”

“   Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”

“   Swag is earned, not learned. ”

“   Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”

“   I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”

“   Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”

“   If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”

“   Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”

“   I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”

“   It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”

“   Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”

“   At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”

“   Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”

“   Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”

“   One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”

“   On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”

“   My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”

“   I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”

“   Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”

“   I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”

“   Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”

“   I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”

“   I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”

“   Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”

“   Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”

“   I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”

“   I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”

“   Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”

“   i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”

[rogue-durin-16]

HEAD-TO-HEAD (part XXIII/?)

Summary: Joe thought she was pretty. Had he just said that, things might have been different for them. Maybe they wouldn't have gone head-to-head at each other for three years like it was a contest.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst/rivals to lovers

Tags:

Head-to-head: @derersketnoget @ladystardustfromarss @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark @sxalbatf @jetjuliette @luvrottt @fromjupitertocentauri @ecompstolemysoul @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bitter-post-millennial @gotxpenny @knight-of-thesun @scottstr3et @aliciax3

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark @gotxpenny

Permanent taglist: @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: brief smut at the beginning (I type as I try to clutch my pearls), mentions of death, language, smoking

A/N: what was supposed to be a whole chapter turned out to be split in two parts. Hopefully, you'll have the continuation to this up tomorrow. Keyword being HOPEFULLY. Enjoy<3

Head-to-head masterlist

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Oh God—"

My low voice caught on the edge of a moan, pelvis grinding down, meeting his every thrust with a shudder that made my knees quake.

Rapid breaths and muffled moans accompanied the first lights of yet another Austrian dawn, filtering into the room and peppering Joe's shoulders with faint golden stripes, the thin layer of sweat gleaming over his skin.

"Christ, you feel so good—"

The bed creaked beneath us, wood groaning in rhythm with the slick, desperate slap of skin against skin. My thighs trembled, sore around his hips; his hands kept me steady, bruising into the flesh of them, doing their best to guide me through it.

"Like fuckin'... velvet—Fuck, don't stop." His voice cracked at the end, fucked-out and hoarse, fanning hot across my chest as I leaned in, my forearms thrown on his shoulders for leverage.

"Damnit, Lieb, just... shut up."

Every upward drag of his hips hit something that made my spine arch. My pace faltered for half a second, legs twitching.

"With the way you're movin'?"

He huffed out something that wasn't quite a groan, then bucked up faster. The change in rhythm had me scrambling—my fingers curling around his nape, my lips pressed to his neck. Sweat pooled at the base of my spine.

"Fuck, I'm close—"

"C'mon, sweetheart—shit, I'm right there with you."

Our hips moved in tandem—messy, relentless, obscene. I could feel every inch of him as I dropped my weight, grinding down in a frantic stutter of motion. His hands slipped from my thighs to my ass, dragging me forward as he drove into me just right.

"Fuck!"

I gasped, head lolling back, mouth parted. The curse left my lungs in a sharp, strangled exhale as everything inside me wound up tight, then snapped. My body clenched down around him, pleasure hitting with a force that knocked the air out of me.

Joe groaned—a raw, guttural sound as he spilled into the condom, hips jerking, muscles locking beneath my hands. Trembling arms wrapped around my waist, keeping our bodies pressed as he folded against me.

The world was easier like this, even if just for a couple of hours. Maybe that was why we kept knocking on each other's doors at ungodly hours after a bad day, carrying the feeblest excuse behind our teeth.

'Tab snores like a goddamn freight train' , he had started with this time, not letting a single second pass after I had opened my door to him.

'The hell you want me to do about it?', I had asked, piqued—not because of him, not really. It was the ridiculous pretext, the time, the vicious circle we'd fallen into, and the fact that, despite all that, I had still stepped aside and let him come in.

His shaky fingers skimmed over my spine and tangled into my locks. He coaxed my head forward until I sat upright again, swollen lips brushing the hinge of my jaw.

"You with me?" he asked in a whisper, voice rasped from exhaustion and sex and everything between. I limited myself to nod, a hazy hum reverberating in my throat with still half-lidded eyes.

Joe's hands trailed down my sides to sit on my upper thighs, lazy and eerily familiar. His lips aimed for mine, soft and open in a way he wouldn't allow himself to be anywhere else.

On instinct, I tilted my head to the side—a subtle shift towards my shoulder, absentminded, like I hadn't noticed him at all. His mouth skimmed the edge of my cheek instead. A near-miss that hurt us both.

I shifted back, sliding off his lap with a soft wince, and he helped me stand without a word, his touch lingering for half a second too long before letting go. The bed creaked when he lied back, arms folding over his face like the ceiling had suddenly become too much to look at.

He was too much too look at. So I focused on sorting out both our fatigues, discarded on the room's floor, making a point not to look his way. I was already halfway dressed by the time Joe sat up and joined me in the task of recovering our respective clothes.

We stole a couple of dissonant glances at each other, keeping a safe distance achieved by my decision to stand near the rickety dresser while I threw on my uniform.

Safe. As if anything between us was safe.

I reached for what I thought were my tags on the edge of the dresser, the familiar weight of them heavy on my digits. When I slipped the chain over my head, though, they settled lower than usual. Not mine.

I turned toward Joe, brows drawn as I held the chain out for him. "These are yours."

Joe looked up from his pants, barely hanging on his hips without the belt, blinking like I'd spoken in a language foreign to him. "Right." He muttered after a beat, yanking them from my grasp, intentionally lacking care.

I allowed myself to take in the way he looked, just for a moment; still a bit shaken, trying to battle his restlesness by focusing on making sure every piece of his uniform sat neatly on him. Before he slipped into his undershirt, the cool sunrays caught on something unusual; a rust-colored charm in the edge of the chain, dull against the steel.

"Where'd you get that?" I questioned, hanging my own tags from my neck, cold against warm skin.

"What?" Joe spared me a confused glance, so I nodded at the tiny Star of David resting on his still bare chest. "Ah. A Pole gave it to me." He shrugged, putting on the top part of his uniform. "From Landsberg."

That made me stop mid motion, fingers freezing on the buttons of my jacket. "From Landsberg?" Joe nodded, his expression excessively nonchalant for the topic at hand. "Why would a Pole from Lansberg give you that?"

Another shrug. His eyes refused to meet mine, head casted down as he laced up his boots. "Figured he wanted to thank me."

"Thank you for what?" I willed my hands to work on the upper part of my uniform, as if this was a casual talk we'd have on sentry duty. Joe himself didn't give me an actual answer straight away—just exhaled a huff, like the poor excuse of a conversation was a nuisance to him. "Joe."

"Guess he was happy I shot down the Nazi fucker who put him in that camp."

My eyes widened as my brain failed to take in the unceremoniously laid out statement. "You did what now?"

"Don't use that tone on me." He warned, pausing his motions to look up from his boots with raised brows. "I'm not one of those new replacements you keep mothering around."

"I'm sorry— what tone do you want me to use?" I retorted, sarcasm thick as an immediate response to his attitude.

"I don't need a lecture, alright?" He rose to his feet, hands working on his belt like buckling it required his full attention. "I had direct orders."

"Direct orders." I echoed, my tone dripping with disbelief. "Whose orders?"

Joe let out a dry laugh, facing me for a split second out of habit. "If you don't know whose orders maybe it's 'cause it's none of your damn business."

"Why are you deflecting?" I searched in his gaze for an answer he wasn't willing to give me, confusion and concern mingling in my chest. "Just tell me whose orders."

"Speirs'." He gave in way too quick, sidestepping me in order to reach the door. "And give me a fuckin' break, okay?"

"You want a break?" I turned on my heel to trail after him across the room. "You can't just... casually tell me you killed someone and, I don't know, expect me to let it slide."

"Why the fuck not?" he spun to face me right at the threshold, barely giving me time to halt. "That's what we do, we kill people." I withdrew from him, one of my hands placed on the doorframe between us. I was left gaping, trying and failing to find the right words. He took that as an opportunity to snap harsher, meaner. "Couple weeks in Austria and you forget what the fuck we're doing here."

I bit back harmful retorts that would have wrecked him, and instead reminded him, "The war's over, Joe."

"For you, maybe."

The room fell into a heavy silence, his glare digging into my frame, taunting me. It always ended up like this; a spiteful argument, worth nothing, meant to rip us away from the brief counterfeit peace. Meant to remind us this couldn't happen.

And occasionally, serving as an outlet for deep-rooted pain that had nothing to do with the mess we had gotten ourselves into.

"Did he handpick you?" I inquired with squinted eyes, something similar to protectiveness bubbling in my chest. By the face he pulled, Joe mistook it for a rebuke of some kind.

"Oh, fuck you."

"Okay, you know what? Don't care." I lied, giving my wrist watch a quick check to distract myself. "Drills start in 10 minutes."

"Aye, Sarge." He mockingly saluted me, resentment seeping through his pupils, twinkling in the light illuminating the silent hall. To his dismay, I let the provocation slide, just like I let slide everything else with him these days.

He didn't look back as he left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The crisp air had started to bite at my cheeks, blowing off the droplets of sweat on my temples by the time the training ended. Two days had passed since Joe's downplayed confession, and I had yet to stop thinking about it. Because I never seemed learn, I had spent shooting practice asking around. Surprisingly enough, a name had halfheartedly dropped from Babe's mouth.

I scanned the field, my eyes landing on Webster, walking a few paces ahead, his long stride slowing as he noticed me hurrying toward him.

"Hey, Web!" I called, casual yet pointed.

Webster turned his head, a charming smile spreading across his face. "What's up, Sergeant Y/l/n?"

"Jesus, don't call me that." I fell into step beside him, accommodating the M1's strap out of habit more than necessity. "I got an odd question for you."

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity passing over his face. "...Okay. What is it?"

My gaze drifted toward Joe, standing by the trucks with Ramirez, his laughter carrying faintly on the wind. My stomach twisted. "You know what Joe's been up to lately?"

Webster stalled, the grin fading into cautious confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

I tilted my head to the side, my tone sharpening. "What d'you think I mean?"

He hesitated, sneaking a look at Joe as we passed by the two men. His nervousness was telling. "I..." Webster fumbled, lowering his voice. "You know about it?"

"No, Web. That's why I'm asking." I matched his volume, exasperation creeping into my voice.

Webster exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, physically trying to shake off the discomfort. He leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don't know what's going on. He said he has orders, but when I ask whose orders he just—"

"Speirs'." I interjected flatly, fixing my gaze ahead of us to feign distraction. "Supposedly."

Webster's eyes widened at the new information, and I wondered how much information Liebgott had actually shared with him. "He told you?"

"I don't believe him."

He blinked, the corners of his mouth twitching with unease. With parted lips, he pondered a thought. "You should try to talk him out of it."

My shoulders shook with a scoff. "What makes you think he's gonna listen?"

"Well, for starters, you rank higher." Webster pointed out, trying to sound logical.

"Yeah," I looked over my shoulder and accidentally met Joe's warm irises, drifting to me while Webster and I held the conversation. "as if rank's gonna stop him."

Webster hesitated, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Aren't you two a thing now?"

My head snapped back at the brunette, a wave of panic rushing through my veins. "What?"

"You and Lieb."

"Are you out of your mind?"

Webster looked genuinely taken aback, a hint of embarrassment lighting up his cheeks. "I... Well, I just figured."

"Hell, no." I shook my head with a negative, making sure the man understood the gravity of what he was implying before I resumed walking. "Don't even think that's possible, okay?"

Webster, clearly eager to move past his assumption, pressed on, falling back into step with me. "Okay, just... Why don't you come with me? We’re heading out again, and—"

Again.

I grabbed his sleeve, stopping him mid-sentence to pull him aside. "This wasn't a one-time thing?"

"No..." He sighed, guilt weighing heavy in his voice. "I hate this, Y/n."

I cursed under my breath, my hands landing on my hips, my head low. "Okay." I huffed, my mind racing with different outcomes. It's none of your business, I reminded myself, and I couldn't tell if it sounded like my voice or like Joe's. "Okay," I repeated before meeting Webster's expectant expression. "When are you supposed to head out?"

"In-" he checked his clock, adjusting the grip on his rifle. "Half an hour."

"Half an hour."

It's none of your business.

"Come look for me before you head out." I instructed him, making Web's face light up with hope. "I'll be at the entrance, alright?"

Webster nodded, his face drawn. "Alright."

As he walked off, I stood there for a moment, staring after him before my eyes shifted back to Joe. He was still chatting with Ramirez, as if nothing weighed on him at all. I ran a hand through my hair, anxiety twisting my stomach into uncomfortable knots.

It was none of my business, yet I still found myself at the hotel's front door, sat down on the stoop with a cigarette in hand, willingly waiting for Webster to wrap me into Joe's mess.

[milky-aeons]

— HE’S MINE

౨ৎ . . . general CHUUYA NAKAHARA was a name that instilled terror into even the most seasoned underground criminals. but to you, he was simply your man.

warnings: swearing, criminal themes, pet-names, w.c 1.6k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ he's mine — mahalia ꒱ ˎˊ-

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍. . .

Chuuya Nakahara was not immune to the pleasures being one of the five Port Mafia Executives brought him. Oftentimes, he was in attendance at the lavish cabaret clubs downtown, if only to entertain a criminal boss the organisation sought business with. He appreciated beauty. He'd enjoy the heated looks, the coyness, as he flirted with many women — and, sometimes, booked a hotel room just for two.

But that was where they had ended; tristes, nights of pleasure, never to happen again. Chuuya was, at first, against the idea of getting involved in a permanent relationship. His life was drenched in danger, his hands bloodied, his friends few and far between. Any woman who affiliated themselves with him would share the target that was constantly nailed into his back. They would need to know that some nights, he wouldn't come home. That he couldn't answer every call. In his eyes, Chuuya Nakahara was confident he would be the absolute shitiest of the shit when it came to being a boyfriend, and refused to put any woman through that type of hell.

That was, of course, until he fell in love. With you.

It was a constant push and pull with his feelings for you, in the beginning. But the longer he decided to neglect them, the larger they became, ballooning into an avalanche until he was knee deep in it. In so many ways, you were beautiful. You had an infectious smile, you had strong morals you abided and lived by. You were kind and caring and loyal — but above everything else, you accepted him for who he was. You didn't try to change him. Instead, you stood by his side, you took that hand he always kept hidden by a leather glove, and said;

"You have me, Chuuya. I'm not going anywhere. Forever and always, I am yours, and you are mine."

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘. . .

: ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀, who threw his entire heart and soul into his job. Being a Port Mafia Executive on top of a militant General would wear down even a soul crafted from steel. You could always tell when your mafioso lover had been pushing himself too hard; his shoulders would sit high and tense, he'd have permanent stress lines on his forehead just above bunched eyebrows. In those moments, you would guide him to the nearest chair and instruct him to sit down. You would work your fingers into his tight muscles until they softened and released, only to let your fingers dance up to his temples, rubbing soothing circles.

"Got a meeting to get to in 10, princess." He'd drawl, yet his eyes would slip closed, he'd sigh in a way that deflated his entire body when you began to massage his forehead. You'd smile, whispering, "Then make it 20."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who sometimes became cross with him whenever Chuuya took you shopping. He was forever spoiling you, would always insist on paying for the meal, the dress you were looking at for a little too long in the storefront window, the fourteen karat gold necklace sitting on some model in a glossy magazine. And when you went clothes shopping — you'd tease him, telling him that he never, ever helped in the dressing rooms, whatsoever.

"What about this one?" "Beautiful, sweetheart." "Okay — this one? I think it sits on me a little weird." "You look gorgeous." "And this one?" "The prettiest girl I've ever seen." "You are absolutely no help at all." "What do ya mean? It's not my fault you look damn good in everything."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀, who had many long and trying missions, yet no matter the length of time he would be gone for, would always find a way to tell you he was thinking of you. Sometimes, it would be in the form of little letters delivered by his rookie underlings to your apartment door. Others; surprise text messages, a two minute phone call in the middle of a gunfight, an extravagant take-out meal brought to your doorstep when you've had a particularly bad day. But your favourite had always been the evening when he brought you flowers. Not just any flowers — but a luscious bouquet of roses he had lifted right to your bedroom window through the action of his ability.

"You're unbelievable!" You shouted down to him, barely able to hold the massive bundle when he released the gravitational hold on them. Chuuya smirked up at you. "And I missed ya, too."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀, who oftentimes, booked entire days off just so he could spend them with you. He was a dignified workaholic, that was certain, but he would always make sure to clear the books for you. On those days, he was at your mercy — you were free to do anything your heart desired, and he would not protest. He would take you to see that awful romcom your friends had been raving about, he would curl up on your couch and let you pet his wildfire hair, he'd take you walking along the skyline if you so wished. For on those days, Chuuya was not a brutal mafia general so used to death and destruction. He was just a man, he was yours.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who loved when Chuuya brought you with him on those long night-time motorcycle rides. The city of Yokohama never slept. It was always humming with life, just like the engine as it purred throughout the city. You would wrap your arms around his slim waist and bury into his back, relishing in the strength he housed. His comforting scent of cigarettes and leather and expensive fougere.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀, who adored music. Who always had something playing whenever you would spend time in his mafia lodging. When he would unscrew a precious bottle of wine from his prized stash and pour you a glass, he'd murmur the words to whatever track it was. He knew them all. And oftentimes, after a drink or two, he'd drag you to your feet and waltz around the room, holding you impossibly close. Until your ears swam with dizziness and your chest hurt from laughing. Until the sun dipped low beyond the horizon of Yokohama and you both danced the night away.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀, who took quite some time to unveil that vulnerable side to you. It was instinct really, for him to mask any of his insecurities and doubts — weaknesses for his dangerous enemies to exploit. His heart took time to learn that you were not one of those enemies. And like a hesitant flower, it opened for you, piece by piece. The feared General would bury into your chest and let you hold him when nightmares kept sleep at bay. He'd ask you to stay when he wasn't ready for you to go, yet. Word by word, he'd divulge some of the deepest fears he held in his heart concerning you — covering his face, spitting them out, like they left a vile taste in his mouth.

"I just — I can't stop thinking about it. The shit those motherfuckers would do to you if they knew — if they knew how much you mean to me. Fuck — Fuck, I don't know what I'd do. If I'd even be a human being after it, princess, I'd — I'd—!" In those moments, you came rushing forward, you clutched his head into your embrace to steady him. Let him breathe you in, feel the air moving in your lungs and blood pumping from your heart. "Shh, shh, Chuuya. It's okay. They'll never get me. I promise. I'll make sure of it."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who made a pledge to accept your boyfriend for who he was. To know that within that stout build housed a terrifying god of destruction. And you, who was always there for him when he tapped into that power and used Corruption. In the days following those instances, you would never dare leave his side. You would watch his chest rise and fall, rise and fall, as he slept for hours at a time. Dabbed at his sweating face, brought bowls of nourishing broth and fed him one spoonful at a time until he gathered his strength back. Lucidity would drift back to him like that of a tidal wave. And in those moments, he'd focus his heart-breaking blue eyes on you. He'd quirk a tired grin and croak;

"You really... keep savin' my ass, ya know that? I'm such a fuckin' mess, baby, I'm sorry."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would smile, who would hold back the emotional rush behind your glassy eyes and say;

"You're not a mess, Chuuya. You're beautiful. You're the light of my life. Now, hush, get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

requested by lovely [ nonnie! ]

[selfcestmovies]

Double, Toil, Trouble

In which you double-team Agatha with... yourself Agatha x Reader (x Reader) Rating M (threesome, face-sitting, multiple orgasms, clones) Wordcount: ~1600

_____

Agatha was never the jealous type.

She was the possessive type. Which, in your humble opinion, was infinitely hotter.

“Come on,” you teased for probably the thousandth time, slinking across the arm of the couch where she sat with a spellbook resting in her lap. “Just a little threesome. Nothing permanent. I’m not asking for a soul-binding ritual—unless you’re into that.”

She didn’t even glance up from the tome. “You're on this again? Let it rest.”

Agatha was often accommodating of your kinks and requests in the bedroom, but this one in particular had become almost a running bit: you'd ask, she'd say no, and you'd ask harder. “I thought you'd say yes this time," you teased. You didn't, of course—but you liked to watch her squirm. And there was always the chance for a change of heart. The visual of working with a partner to push all her buttons was something you just couldn't shake from your minds eye.

“You know I don’t want to share you,” Agatha murmured, finally closing her book with a soft thud. “You’re mine. Entirely. Indisputably.”

“And I love being yours,” you said sweetly, crawling into her lap with the grace of a spoiled familiar. “I just also think it would be fun to have a third. I don’t even care who. Someone hot. Or chaotic. Or both. Man, woman, neither—I'm not picky.”

“That’s not narrowing it down.”

“Fine. Surprise me, then. I just love the idea of... overwhelming you.”

You kissed her, soft and slow, not pushing for anything. This was always how it went. You’d flirt. She’d resist. And you’d both go to bed later acting like it had never come up. The whole game was a little kink in and of itself.

So you almost forgot the conversation entirely.

Until a week later.

Until she cast a duplication spell.

“You did what?!”

Agatha stood calmly in the center of your shared bedroom, sleeves rolled, runes still glowing blue on the pages before her. “Duplication spell,” she said smoothly. “I wanted to see if you were serious, and you said you didn't much care who our third would be. So I made it easy.”

And of course, standing across from you, matching your outfit head to toe, blinking like she just stepped out of a mirror—was you.

Exactly you. Same shocked grin. Same rosy cheeks. Same mark on your collarbone from where Agatha had kissed you good morning earlier today.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. “I'm hot.”

Agatha lifted an eyebrow. “I figured that seeing yourself would dampen the fantasy and bring you back to reality.”

“Oh no,” the Other You said, walking in a slow circle around you. “Oh, Agatha, this is so much worse for you.”

“Worse?”

“Because now I know I’d fuck me,” the duplicate said.

You laughed. “Same.”

Agatha frowned, suddenly—deliciously—uncertain. “I didn’t intend for this to be some exhibitionist revenge plot.”

You turned your attention to Agatha, reaching out to grab her by the hips. Your double slinked behind her, sliding fingers up her spine. “You shouldn’t have made two of me if you didn’t want to be outnumbered."

It started slow—how most of your games did.

You kissed Agatha first. But the kiss was different this time, knowing that the two of you weren't alone. You felt Agatha respond to the touch of your other self’s hand sliding over her throat from behind, lips brushing her ear, and she shivered into your lips. When you felt Agatha's chin being prompted away from you, and into the lips of your clone, you were happy to release her—to let Agatha be bounced back and forth between two mouths and four sets of hands.

“I don’t want to share you,” Agatha murmured, breath ragged between kisses, “but now I’m wondering if this really counts.”

Other You smirked. “That's the spirit.”

“Couldn't agree more,” you whispered, sucking a fresh mark into Agatha's neck. “And to think it took us this long to see it.”

The two of you stripped her slowly, reverently. Unbuttoning her top and sliding it down her shoulders, then unclasping her skirt. You stayed standing in front of her, tracing circles around her bare neckline, while your duplicate had knelt to the floor to kiss her thighs. You tangled fingers in her hair while the other trailed nails down her stomach.

Agatha bit her lip, eyes fluttering shut.

You didn’t give her a moment of peace. The two of you worked in tandem to toss her down onto the open bed. You were both still clothed, but that didn't matter—you could feel yourself starting to soak through your panties and you were sure the double shared your vigor. This moment was about getting Agatha electrified, not giving her a single free moment to focus on you (either of you) until you had had your fill of her. And fuck it was turning you on to take to her with so much control.

She was down on her back now—you had crawled up her side to kissed her, while the Other You sucked bruises into her chest. At one point you peered down to see the double riding her thigh, so you took it upon yourself to hold her wrists tight while the other pinned her hips. You switched places before she could predict it—one teasing, one filthy, both relentless.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “You’re brats.”

“We’re yours,” you both replied.

You were about to pull Agatha into a needy, frenzied kiss when your double beat you to it—but after the split second of envy, you decided to catch your breath and simply... watch. You still idly stroked Agatha's clit through the thin fabric of her panties, but your attention was rapt on the Other You kissing Agatha wet, fully, and hungrily. You knew what it felt like to ravage her, but you had never seen it from this out-of-body perspective. You watched how your lips engulfed hers; how you sucked her tongue; how the corners of your mouth curved into a smile when you made her moan.

And then the Other You opened her eyes, her gaze in your direction. She liked being watched.

Of course she did. She was you.

Her lips were still locked with Agatha—her eyes closed—but her gaze made it clear that she wanted your praise too. You traced a finger up her spine to show your approval. You smiled at her, and when the Other You finally parted from Agatha, leaving her lips red and swollen, she mirrored your grin down to the last imperceptible detail.

"Come here," the double whispered to you. You crawled over Agatha and met her, lips on matching lips, and kissed her.

Agatha opened her eyes to the sight. "Holy shit, [Y/N]—" she whispered.

The two Yous took that as a sign that the show of affection wasn't evoking any jealousy. She seemed just as turned on as you were.

"You don't mind, Aggie?" You asked.

She was silent. You saw out of the corner of her eye that she shook her head no.

"Good," the Other You cooed. "We really are quite something," she murmured to you, her eyes heavy.

“You’re just saying that because you have my taste,” you teased.

Your mouths met again—open and eager this time, greedy without shame. Her hand slid up your side as yours cupped the back of her head. The kiss deepened with a messy, breathless hum, hips pressed together as if trying to prove how alike you really were.

After a moment, Agatha groaned somewhere beneath you. “Now you’re doing this just to punish me.”

“Maybe,” you said against your own lips.

And then—because you were truly a menace—you broke the kiss, leaned back, and pulled your shirt up and over your head. Your double followed suit. You both admired each other—yourselves—grinning like foxes in heat.

You cupped your own breasts, then leaned forward and took your double's nipple into your mouth. Both of you gasped.

“Oh fuck,” Other You breathed.

You switched, suckling the other side, while your own hands roamed her body like you couldn’t get enough of touching yourself. Because maybe you couldn’t.

It was part show, part indulgence. Agatha sat frozen between the two of you, lips parted, spell completely forgotten, watching you worship each other's identical bodies. You licked your own nipple again, slower this time. “Still think this was a bad idea, Aggie?”

Agatha’s only answer was to moan. She grabbed you both by the thighs, grounding herself with something real as you grinded against each other. Two identical moaning versions of you tangled on top of her like a dream turned fever.

At some point, you guided Agatha back between the two of you. Your double turned her attention back to Agatha while you still worshipped your twin, then vice versa, in every permutation the three of you could muster. You came once on Agatha's mouth.

You came again with your double’s fingers inside you, curled just right.

And when Agatha begged to finally come, you both made her wait.

“Oh no,” your double purred, licking into your mouth mid-kiss. “You thought you’d be the one in charge?”

“She wanted to scare us out of the idea,” you murmured, panting against her skin.

“She wanted control.”

“Let’s remind her who the real brat is.”

You both slid down her body again. One of you kissed her clit. The other sucked bruises into her thighs. You switched—again and again—until Agatha was shaking, breathless, eyes blown wide and filled with dark, raw hunger.

When she finally came, it was because both of you were holding her down, tongues and fingers working in mirrored rhythm, her name gasped between your lips like a chant.

Later—sweaty and half-limp and tangled in the blankets—you curled on one side of her, your duplicate on the other.

Agatha looked absolutely wrecked.

“Still mad you had to share me?” you asked, brushing a knuckle down her jaw.

Other You grinned. “We could do a whole coven of us.”

Agatha let out a huff of air that might’ve been a laugh, or a groan, or both. “No,” she said flatly.

You both laughed.

Maybe she didn’t love sharing.

[thousandyearphantombunker]

"we want more mentally ill/disabled characters with ugly symptoms!"

You guys can't handle lapis lazuli tony stark or hank pym! You guys can barely contain your ableism toward the hulk! You guys hate the good doctor for all the wrong reasons! You made fun of his speech patterns and his meltdowns wtf like I'm sorry the only autistic person you've supported have been the perfect non annoying type- but too many of especially as children are like shawn- they talk weird and don't understand what's so offensive about what they said

You guys keep saying Lapis should just be rewritten into a villain! I don't like how the show handled her but like your really gonna make the girl who shows ugly bad symptoms of ptsd into villain? You guys keep trying to make hank into a villain or rewrite his past- god forbid a character have really sevre ugly symptoms that causes them to make decisions that permanently effect the story but have them still be heroes! God forbid Ironman have npd and be a hero! Let's shame MCU Bruce for his mental illness for being unable to do things because of it! God as soon as a character with a mental illness or developmental disorder or low IQ shows actual symptoms and behaviors (ei: acts like how someone with the disorder in question acts- you know the main part of having a fucking disorder) you get pissy and pile on the shame- yeah jen you do control your anger better than bruce- you can also stand better than Charles fucking Xavier! Yeah your smarter than a guy with a low IQ want a cookie?

I'm never gonna be one of those people who tell others to stop writing disabled villains or that writing a character that deals with internalized ableism (disabled people like any group of people can be total prices of shit, and I'm sorry not everyone is content and accepting of their disabilities and some of us take comfort in characters that struggle with being angry because of their problems) but Jesus Christ when a heroic character with ugly symptoms who makes cruel decisions or has 'bratty' or 'immature' moments can we let them stay heroes? Can we let them have a disorder without piling on the shame that we are inferior because we can't do something everyone else can- because that's literally what a disability is! Can they still be heroes?

Do we have to use intellectual/developmental disability as a shorthand for anti intellectualism and being a gross annoying psycho

Do we have to make every heroic character with aspd or npd into a villain or change their disability to autism because it's 'more sympathetic' as if lack of empathy isn't a goddamned symptom of many disabilities like PTSD and autism- You can headcanon tony as having autism- that's cool by me but it's clear some of y'all do it to make him a 'woobie'- which is infantalizing btw but also it's because some of y'all are ableist toward people with npd

I hate that the only acceptable 'ugly symptoms' are things like forgetting to shower or brush your teeth every once in a while or being a bit irritable and not stuff like burning bridges or having explosive outburts

Also it's not a mental illness unless it effects your behavior?

Im not saying that we should just accept and allow mentally ill/intellectually disabled people/characters to get away with bad behaviors unpunished but can they stay heroes? Can they still be respectable?

"we want more characters with ugly symptoms"

Yet

You people get offended by low functioning autistic people existing! You get mad at them for being incontinent or nonverbal/making strange noises or having scary anger issues or IQs low enough that they will never be independent you get mad at them for not showing the 'appropriate' reactions to things they may or may not fully understand- you hate people with sensory issues -

You don't want mentally ill/disabled characters- you want characters with the labels of mental disabilities without any of the ugly strange or off putting behaviors mental/intellectual deficiencies/issues cause- you want a romantic tragedy!

You shame people with Alzheimer's for FORGETTING stuff and LOSING SKILLS 'yeah yeah you are superior to your uncle because you can remember stuff but can you remember it's a fucking disease! you people are cruel

Yes you are technically superior to disabled people because you are capable of things we aren't and you have better character and you can control yourself but guess what? Those people you hate for being incapable of that shit have disabilities it's not our faults! It's the fucking definition of a disability! Like yeah it is a skill issue and we're just 'worse' than nondisabled with us lacking self control and having lower IQs and bad mental processing- yeah it is because we're lacking in some capacity that's like the definition disability you can't say you support disabled people and then turn around and say shit about how your better than these people because you can talk or take care of yourself

Hank Pym and Lapis Lazuli should get called out for acting like assholes and pieces of shit but I am firmly against turning one of few heroic characters who actively struggle with psychosis and delusions into another 'psycho' villain and I'm firmly against saying Lapis is just as bad as Jasper and using symptoms of her PTSD as signs she should be rewritten into a villain- I want them to be held accountable not turned into straight up evil guys or dear god washing out their problematic qualities until they're palatable/relatable to a neurotypical audience to make them good guys when they are already good guys!

Can people who do bad things because of their disabilities still be heroes? Can they be allowed to get better or do they have to accept that having ugly symptoms means being the bad guy? Fucking hell this is why I side eye anyone who acts like mental illness/developmental/cognitive or mental etc disabilities are more destigmatized than physical disabilities (trust me they aren't)

Tldr let characters with ugly symptoms be heroes let your characters with mental disorders act like they have a disorder and let said characters be heroes inspite of it!

[thebunnednun]

MHA Guidance Counselor AU Masterlist

Did you ever have a fuck ass guidance counselor or therapist that didn't do shit for you?

Don't worry, we're gonna fic that.

With your favorite mha characters!!

(Puns, but in all seriousness, I am sorry about what you went through and hope that you get the help you deserve. I can't 'fix' things but a silly little fic does wonders.)

What’s this about Angie?

You’ve been dealing with enough stress—academics, family expectations, shitty job, maybe a chaotic personal life—and you need help. A guidance counselor or therapist sounds like the right answer, but we’re not exactly talking about your typical "supportive and competent" staff here.

In this world, you’re dealing with a range of questionable advice, from well-meaning to completely off-base guidance, and advice that might just make you want to scream into a pillow.

At least you're not alone...sort of.

How It Works:

Each guidance counselor or therapist here takes a different approach to “helping.”

Some might be sarcastic, others way too eager, and a few might just be downright unqualified but somehow...well, still helpful? It’s a rollercoaster of chaos and sometimes even a bit of healing, if you can trust the process.

You’ll get to see the types of support each offers (or doesn’t), and maybe, just maybe, you’ll walk away with some real insight. If you’re lucky.

Rules:

You get to choose which counselor you want to go to. It's like a buffet of options! Every counselor has their own style—be prepared for anything.

Feel free to request a specific counselor or approach. Want a very professional, no-nonsense counselor? Or maybe one who's way too into "mindfulness" and could you please just leave me alone? Let me know. All characters are on the table.

No one is perfect. The counselors might mess up. A lot. But the key is they try, and sometimes that’s what counts. Also as your author I myself am only human so please have grace with me.

This is your fic. Your rules. You can ask for any vibe you need, comfort, angst, but we also lean into the humor. After all, we’re in control here... aren't we?

All my readers are gender neutral, but again, if you request something specific I can change that. Fresh soup.

While I don't find myself writing smut I do consider this blog to be 18+ because of the story themes. I do not want minors on my posts because I care about your mental health and sometimes reading certain fics can be damaging and permanently alter you. I don't want that. Your brain chemistry is important. YOU ARE IMPORTANT. So you have been warned. No ageless blogs!

Okay so the fic's are going to start as goes:

Midnight

30 Minutes --- Nemuris only got 30 minutes to work with her favorite stinker, and she's gonna make them count. You just wish you could stop thinking of her as a mom.

32 Minutes --- The sequel of how your life is going since that last visit.

Aizawa

In their shoes --- Aizawa's best and brightest troublemaker by far. The only difference is that you don't talk. Ever. Getting you to open up is like trying to bring back the dead. So what can he do?

Take you on a walk outside. Maybe you'll talk, maybe you won't. But he's going to try and make you feel better by the end of it. Even if it's just a tiny bit.

Yamada

Stuck on Mute ---- Mic's gotta figure out how to get his soft spoken new assignment to open up in spite of his loud nature. And it does work! After a near death incident...

Enji

Family Jewels --- Enji comes across a student that's much more like himself than they initially let on. Maybe he's right for the job after all.

Fat Gum

Knock out --- Taishiro swaps assignments with Rumi and finds himself at odds with a student that has anger issues.

Mirko

Respawn? --- Rumi fucked up with her first student and now has a... very shy, kiddo to put it nicely. No idea how to communicate with them. So she hands up her gym bag and picks up a controller.

Hawks

Nap time --- Keigo can't get his new unimpressed spooky student with PTSD to open up after their recent villian attack until he gets personal.

All Might

NOT MY GRANPA --- Yagi finds himself assigned to a student that is every old mans worst fear: A modern trendy alternative teenager. But PLOT TWIST, you have social anxiety. Just like him. Good news, you and Toshinori click instantly and he adores you. You love time with your grandpa figure!

Bad news, you're a fighter and get into a bad situation after a nasty brawl...

More to come soon.

I've got some fic's in the workshop but please request some. If you do request please see my rules page or just DM me and ask.

Overall, this should be a safe space for everyone to enjoy and have fun while reading.

I also have a ko-fi now if you'd like to support me. :3 Not mandatory but always appreciated.

Pssst, my ao3 is alive and open for all readers.

See you soon!

-Angie

[usoinked]

You Were A Dream (Manipulative! Zilla Fatu X Black Reader)

CW: 18+ minors DNI, unprotected p in v, alcohol, don’t expect him to be there in the morning, manipulation, praise, choking (slight), begging, deja vu, dirty talk, he talks you through it, plot twist

Word Count: 6.3k+

Can't you tell I'm desperate? Can't you tell I'm cheap?

You don't gotta love me, we don't have to speak

I'll see you in the morning if you gotta leave

I'll see you when I see you

Like you were a dream

It could've been a dream (ooh)

Your hand brushed over the empty covers next to you, the warmth of his body still lingering in the sheets. The memories of last night…and the the early hours before that all came flooding in. You slept with him. You really slept with Zilla Fatu. It felt like a bad dream now, like you’d crossed some line you couldn’t come back from. You knew it wasn’t right. You were suppose to be careful, heed the warnings your friends told you, that he wasn’t shit and he wasn’t gonna be there when you woke up. But you didn’t listen or heed their warnings. You had to go find out for yourself.

At first, you didn’t feel nothin’, just numb. But then the guilt started creeping in, slow and steady, like a shadow that wouldn’t leave. The silence around you felt like the four walls of a padded cell. The kind you get locked in when you make a mistake you can’t undo. And that was the reality of the situation you were in right now.

Your thoughts drifted back to Thursday night, to that moment when everything changed. You remember walking into the club, feeling the bass pulse through your chest, the flashing lights dancing off every surface. But none of that mattered when your eyes landed on him. He was across the room, standing in VIP, looking like he just stepped out of a damn music video. Face tattoos, arm sleeves, the whole look. He had that don’t fuck with me aura, like you could see the danger radiating off him. His expression was hard, cold, mean, like he was looking through everybody in the room. Every time he cracked a smile, it didn’t last too long, like he didn’t even really want to be bothered. His eyes, though? Dark, possessive, like he knew exactly what he wanted—and possibly who he wanted. And damn, did that make you want him even more.

Something in the back of your mind told you to stop looking at him. Told you to look away before your legs betrayed you and took you right over there. But that wasn’t happening. You knew it, and deep down, he knew it too.

You’d always been into bad boys, the type your mama warned you about. Every time, they pulled you in, they hurt you. But that didn’t stop the chase, it’s like they were addictive because that was the only type of love you ever knew. Granted, that wasn’t gonna stop this time either. Zilla? He was the perfect type: light skin, tattoos, rough around the edges, but with that look that made you wonder what it would feel like to have him pressed up against you. And that frown, that permanent look of irritation? You wanted to see what it would take to make him crack a real smile.

“Girl, who the hell you starin’ at?” Jasmine’s voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. You glanced at her, then Serenity, who was already side-eyeing you.

“I know damn well you ain’t staring at who I think you staring at,” Serenity said, her voice dropping low like she was warning you. “Girl, that nigga ain’t nothin’ but trouble. You know that, right?”

But you couldn’t help it. That man was fine as hell, and fine didn’t always mean trouble…right? You wasn’t tryna hear that.

“Girl, you trippin’,” you said, but your eyes were still glued to him. He was now leanin’ back on the love seat in the VIP section, legs spread just enough to make you imagine what he’d look like when he finally took his clothes off. His black jeans were ripped just right, showing off a little bit of skin, while his white Air Force 1s popped against the darkness of the club. And that hand, the one with the tattoos? That hand was resting on his thigh like it belonged there. You couldn’t stop looking at it. That hand could grip your body just the same, and you wouldn’t say a word other than unholy sounds that would leave your lips. His silver grills gleamed when he parted his lips to take a shot of tequila, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed had you ready to lose it.

“Jesus Christ, I swear that nigga gotta be heaven sent.” You didn’t even mean to say it out loud, but damn.

“Girl, fine don’t always mean good,” Serenity warned, shaking her head like she had seen this a million times. “I heard bitches talkin’—that nigga got hoes all around him, and he don’t care ‘bout nobody’s feelings. He just good in bed, that’s it. But you? You a lover girl, Y/N. Men like him? They feed off that. He’ll look at you one time, and before you even know it, you’ll be down bad, wrapped up in all his mess. And he ain’t on no love shit. He just gon’ have you out here lookin’ dumb.”

Jasmine nodded, agreeing with every word Serenity was sayin’. “Exactly. He’ll look at you and know he got you. You won’t even be able to help it. That nigga gon’ have you in a puddle, and once he’s done with you, it’s gon’ be next.”

You rolled your eyes, but part of you wasn’t even mad because they were right….weren’t they? But what if… what if this time it was different?

You couldn’t shake it. “What if y’all trippin’ though? What if he ain’t like that, f’real? I mean, yeah, he look like trouble, but damn… he look fine as hell.”

“Fine don’t always mean good, girl. Look, he good for a couple of rounds in the sheets, but you ain’t gon’ get nothin’ else. You ain’t getting no text back, no I love you, none of that. You better stop starin’ and let’s go get another drink before you get caught up,” Serenity said, already turning toward the bar.

But you couldn’t look away. Your mind was made up. You was gon’ talk to him, no matter what they said. As they walked away, his eyes briefly looked up from his phone before they immediately connected with yours. He got you. “Girl!”Jasmine called before grabbing your hand leading you over to the bar with them, but you couldn’t stop looking back at him….damn those eyes.

As you three made it over to the bar and settled down, you ordered a sex on the beach but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at you. I need to talk to him before the night is over. You truthfully had your eye on Zilla for a while, y’all stayed in the same city and you seen him around but you were always too shy to walk up to him and just when you thought you would, your friends held you back knowing how he was. Jasmine was talking about her crush from earlier in the night, but you were barely listening. All you could think about was him.

But he kept thinking about you too ever since his eyes locked on yours…and your body. As Zilla kept his eyes fixed on your figure as you faded from his view, his cousins on the other side of the booth were still talking amongst themselves, but the whole room felt like it paused for a moment. Jacob ended up elbowing Zilla, nodding his head in your direction. “Ayo, Zilla, you gon’ make that move or what?” His words were teasing, but the undertone was clear: they were watching, waiting to see what he was bout to do.

Zilla smirked, glancing over at his cousin before he turned back to your direction. “We’ll see,” he said, his eyes scanning in your direction like he was searching for something.

Meanwhile, you and your girls had settled into the bar, the music still thumping through the speakers, but it felt like the world had narrowed down to just you and him. You couldn’t shake the way Zilla’s eyes stayed on you from across the room, the heat of his stare like it was burning a hole right through you. It wasn’t just a glance, no, it was possessive. You could feel him trying to claim you without even speaking a word, and that shit had you feinin’.

“Can you hear me, Y/N?” Jasmine asked, snapping her fingers in front of your face, her voice sharp like she was trying to pull you back to earth.

“Huh?” You blinked, pulling your eyes away from the drink in front of you, shaking yourself out of the daze.

“I said, you trippin’.” Jasmine laughed, nudging you. “What’s up with you? You been staring off into space like you on another planet. You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you lied, turning your attention back to the bar. You weren’t paying attention to her, though. You were still thinking about him, still feeling that damn look of his. You couldn’t help it. You had to talk to him.

“I swear, Y/N, you always do this,” Serenity teased. “Every time a you see a fine ass man you get all shy and shit like you don’t know how to approach him. What’s up with that?”

“I don’t know what you talkin’ about.” You didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to feel the heat rise in your chest. Yeah, you were shy around men sometimes—especially the ones who looked like Zilla—but you could already feel that pride welling up. This time, you told yourself. I’m gon’ do it.

Jasmine and Serenity went back to having a conversation being busy talking about some dude who had tried to holla at them earlier in the night, but you weren’t listening. You barely heard them at all as your gaze drifted back to where Zilla was sitting in the VIP, surrounded by a couple of women and some of his cousins you didn’t recognize. You couldn’t see his face too clearly from where you were, but you knew he was watching you. He was always watching, and the more you caught his eye, the more you felt that pull. It was like a magnet, drawing you in with every second that passed.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else.

“What?” Serenity raised an eyebrow, clearly catching your words.

You stood up suddenly, the decision already made in your mind. “I’m gonna talk to him.” The bass of the club reverberated through your chest as you stood, feeling that sudden surge of energy. You weren’t just gonna let this chance slip by. You couldn’t. You’d been watching Zilla for too long, and tonight, you were gonna finally do something about it.

Before either of your friends could stop you, you were moving, the crowd parting just enough for you to slip through. You could feel the eyes of your friends on your back, but the pull was stronger than their warnings. You were already too close to turn back now, you couldn’t. Not when he was so close, not when you knew that tonight, something would shift. You’d been eyeing Zilla for months now, seeing him around the city here and there, but every time you’d thought about stepping up to him, your friends had pulled you back. They warned you about him. They told you how he was. He ain’t shit, they said. He’ll have you looking crazy, they warned. But right now, that didn’t matter.

You were already at the edge of the VIP section before you even realized you’d gotten that far. Zilla was sitting back, laughing at something one of the guys was saying. As you neared the VIP, you couldn’t help but notice the way the women surrounding Zilla looked you up and down. They were clearly sizing you up, whispering under their breath, their expressions guarded and a little too judgmental for your liking. One of them, a light-skinned woman with a slick ponytail, shot you a quick glare, her lips curving into a tight, almost condescending smile as she sipped her glass of wine.

But none of that mattered. Zilla was still in the back, lounging like he owned the place, surrounded by his cousins and a couple of other folks who didn’t seem to mind their conversation getting interrupted. They were laughing, tossing back drinks, and talking about some bullshit you couldn’t hear from where you stood, but the moment you stepped closer, you saw their eyes flick to you.

Zilla’s cousin, a tall, broad-shouldered dude with gold chains, black and red ombre dreads, and a deep baritone, shot a quick glance at his cousin, then back at you. It was Jacob. Zilla looked at him briefly, his expression unreadable, but you could feel the shift. Something about the way his cousin nudged him, the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips, made it clear: they were watching you. And not in the way you were hoping.

Zilla didn’t say anything right away, his eyes still trailing your movements. Then, almost as if on cue, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes dark and steady, and gave you a small but unmistakable nod. That was all it took. You stepped closer, your heart racing like a drum in your chest.

“Yo, what’s good?” You stood in front of him, trying to sound casual, but even you could hear the breathiness in your voice.

Zilla looked you up and down, his gaze slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every inch of you. He didn’t say anything at first, just studied you with that same unreadable expression, before finally speaking up. “What’s good witchu, baby girl?” his voice was smooth as hell, low and gravelly, like he’d been waiting for you. The moment he spoke, you felt the world narrow down to just the two of you. “I been seein’ you lookin’ from across the room. Thought you was gon’ make your way over here sooner or later. You a bold one huh?” He said it casually, like he was in control of everything around him, but rather than that turning you off and pushing you away, it only made you want to keep the conversation going longer.

You weren’t sure if that was a compliment or a challenge, but something about the way he said it made you feel like you’d already lost the game before you even played. You didn’t even know how to respond at first. You just stood there for a second, watching him—his grin, the way his grill caught the light when he spoke, the tattoos on his neck and hands making him look even more dangerous. “Maybe I just needed the right moment,” you replied, your voice steady, even though inside, your heart was racing.

Immediately, the atmosphere shifted. The women who had been eyeing you before glanced at each other, but Zilla’s cousins just chuckled under their breath, exchanging quick looks like they were used to this. They knew how their cousin was—how he played the game.

Zilla chuckled, his lips curving into something that felt almost like a warning. “Right moment, huh? Well, it’s your lucky night, then ma. What’s your name, though?” he asked, his voice sliding from smooth to damn near seductive, like he was waiting for you to fall into the trap.

“Y/N,” you said, trying to sound confident, but you could feel your palms sweating.

“Y/N,” he repeated, the way he said it making your name sound like a secret only he should know. “Nice to finally meet you, baby.”

He looked at the girl next to him before nodding his head to the side suggesting for her to make room for you before patting the seat next to him, his eyes never leaving yours. As the girl reluctantly moved, you felt a rush of heat flood your body the moment you sat down. You didn’t hesitate; you slid in next to him, close enough that you could feel the heat from his body.

The moment you sat down, Zilla leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “You really think you ready for me, huh?” His voice was low, teasing, like he knew something you didn’t.

You didn’t answer right away, but you could feel the tension between the two of you growing thicker. Every second that passed, you felt more drawn to him, more caught up in the way he looked at you, the way his body seemed to be calling you in.

Zilla’s hand slid casually onto the back of your back, your short dress having your skin exposed behind it as his fingers brushed over it while he leaned back, studying you. “You shy ain’t you” he started, his voice dropping even lower, “I can get that outta you though ma” he really didn’t care or have any shame especially since the girls in the section started to either distance themselves from Zilla or leave because they wanted his attention just as much as you did, and right now you were the main one getting it.

You swallowed hard, barely able to think straight under his intense gaze. The club felt like it was fading away, the music and voices blurring. It was just the two of you now, the air heavy with something neither of you could name.

Before you could respond, you could feel your girls watching you from a distance. Jasmine was side-eyeing you hard, clearly giving you that don’t you dare look, while Serenity was in the middle of shaking her head, mouthing, Girl, no.

“Life about risks, you tryna take one tonight?” He whispered in your ear, his hands still training down your back, giving you that primal look as his silver grills slipped in front of his bottom lip as he stared at your frame.

“Maybe I am, what you tryna do?”

“I’m tryna do a lot, don’t play wimme. I got my SUV parked out front right now and we can get innit, jus you an me.” He said as his hand slowly sliding up and down your thigh.

Those words could be a trap and you would fall right for it because it was him you were talking to. You gave a last glance to your friends before his finger guided your chin back to him where you ended up staring into his eyes again. “They ain’t stop you from coming over here did they?”

“Well they tried…but-“

“But you over here. You can go right to ‘em if you want, but by the way you starin’ you know that’s not whatchu wanna do.” Zilla commented before he stood up, and as he did, he offered his tatted hand to you. The movement was deliberate, slow, but you were so drawn into him. How he looked, how good he smelled, how he talked….everything.

“I’ll take you anywhere you tryna go ma. You comin’?” He raised an eyebrow, that same cocky smirk on his lips. But there was something in his eyes—a challenge, a promise—that made your heart skip.

You hesitated for only a second. Your friends were already giving you the death stare, but you ignored it. You couldn’t turn back now. Not with him standing in front of you like that, looking like he was ready to take over your entire night.

You took his hand.

“Let’s go.”

From here, Zilla would lead you through the crowd toward the black SUV, the anticipation in the air thickening with every step.

Upon entering the car and crawling in the backseat with Zilla the air immediately became tense but with the slam of that door, your position beside him became solidified. “Uhm….” You started off not really knowing what to say, you became so awkward around him it wasn’t even funny. In the club it was just the two of you sure but you were surrounded by people in a public atmosphere, but now was different. You were in the car, just the two of you, it was much more private.

“I can tell you not good with words ma, that’s why actions way better than that” he said as his hand found its way to your face cupping it before leaning over and crashing his lips against yours. You immediately responded, your lips blended with his as your hands found their way to his shoulders, your French tips glaring in the light as did so.

He was on the left side and you were on the right, the fire between you two getting hotter and hotter as your make out session grew heavy. His tongue slide around yours, and yours did the same, the taste of saliva, tequila, sex on the beach, and Hennessy mixing together. You were tipsy but you were well aware of what you wanted and he was sitting right across from you literally devouring you.

His hand moved from your face to around your throat causing a moan to slip from you, if it was one thing you really fantasized about, it was his hand around your throat as a way of taking ownership of you. Being the curious woman you were, you trailed your nails down his arms, then to his his jeans, deliberately rubbing your hands over the rips and the seams, the fabric having a slight resistance to your skin before eventually stopping right in the middle. You slowly pulled away from the kiss before giving him a soft gently rub before suddenly pressing down feeling the outline of his dick through the jeans earning a growl from him in response.

“Easy…Don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish ma” he said before tightening his hold around your throat prompting you to bite your lip.

“Then let’s finish this in the hotel room” you said looking at him with pleading eyes causing him to slowly let go of your throat. “Ight, finna have yo ass screamin' f'real.”

And that he did because with the swipe of his keycard, there wasn’t much talking anymore other than the sounds of you being shoved against his hotel wall along with his belt being unbuckled. You fumbled with it a bit before getting it off while his tongue was attached to yours. God this was addicting, so addicting that you two literally didn’t care about tearing or ripping any seams in the clothing you wore, you both just wanted them off.

The only time you two broke the kiss was when you had to pull his shirt over his head and your dress over yours. The floor became littered with fabric as the white sheets became wrinkled with the weight of both your bodies. Your hands were all over him just as much as his were all over you. Your nails floated through his hair as the metallic taste of his grills had your hips bucked against his length. The after taste of alcohol still lingering in between make out sessions but with how wet you were with anticipation, none of that mattered.

While your legs were wrapped around his waist, you suddenly shifted your weight to where he was now under you which took him by surprise but that look quickly turned into one of amusement as his hands grabbed onto your waist. You didn’t want to waste any time with any sort of foreplay because as good as he was with teasing you at the club, you wanted him that damn bad. You were desperate for it and you got it. You quickly salivated into your hand curling it into a bowl shape before grabbing Zilla’s dick and covering the 8 in a half inch muscle with saliva. “Oh you just don’t care huh?” You looked at him, only flashing a smile before sliding his length into you. You didn’t even think about condoms, what if he was only using you, that he was bad news, because that dick definitely wasn’t. Your walls immediately began to expand upon contact as your hands found there way on his tatted chest, his breath hitched upon getting a grasp of the new feeling. “God damn ma, that pussy eating me up f’real” he said watching as your body slowly sunk down until your hips met his.

The way he spoke to you activated your movements as your hips began to grind against his causing his dick to massage your inner walls as well as your folds. It was a feeling that would have you disregarding anything your friends told you or what anybody thought about it. He could’ve been an asshole, but the way he was stretching your pussy right now made those thoughts disappear. You could think logically later but right now, having his dick inside you was the best feeling in the word. You were really awkward at first but now that y’all were intimate, the eye contact you made with him while riding him faster, your hip movements increasing, was enough to let you know that you had control of the situation right now. The way he looked up at you praising you, you felt so rewarded. You were being praised by the man that you had your eye on for months and it felt so good to get that recognition, even if it meant you had to be in his bed to do it.

Those grills appeared again as he bite his lips, his hands moving over to your ass giving it a hard SMACK. A loud moan erupted from you before you started rotating your hips in circles as the man below you praised you every step of the way. “You look so good ridin’ me, slam on that shit again babygirl” he commanded and you did. You went from rotating your hips and giving him a show to straight up bouncing on him, your hips once again meeting his. The sounds of skin slapping and the smell of sex began to join the moans and groans that filled the air from the both of you as he slammed his palm onto your ass again harder this time causing that part of your skin to turn red. SMACK. Ugh, you could never get enough of his sadistic nature because it matched just how much of a masochist you were.

The sounds of the bed squeaking below became drowned out by how much louder the moans got especially when the tip of his dick met that spot. “Found that spot huh” he teased before seeing you shift. “Hell nah, you not goin nowhere. None of that runnin’ shit”he said as he wrapped his hand around your waist starting to purposely target that same spot that drove you mad. You were a moaning mess because of how quickly you felt that knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter.

“Y-Yes! Oh my f-fucking g-god!” You screamed out as he kept hitting that spot. “Nailing yo shit huh? Yeahh look at you, can’t even tell me you finna cream on my shit can you? Uh huh” and he was right you couldn’t. Because the more he moved, the more the knot in your stomach worsened. But with him, he wanted that because he made it a point to purposely keep hitting your g spot over and over again until you eventually crumbled, your body trembling as your juices ran down his length. “F-Fuck! Ughhaaann!!” You screamed as your head fell onto his chest for a minute before pushing yourself back up. “Hell nah we ain’t finished yet, ma. Told you we was gon’ fix that shy shit” he muttered, his voice having a hint of seriousness behind it. You loved it when he talked to you like that, despite creaming all over him just now that only turned you on even more.

And you got it because after flipping you over to missionary position, he was at it again causing more wrinkles forming in the sheets and the pillows. Your legs wrapped around his waist just like they did when you first got in here as he started nailing you again and again. You had just came but him and the dick he had between his legs didn’t care about none of that because he wanted you to do that again. He loved seeing your eyes roll in the back of your head, your nails forming crescent shaped marks around his tatted arms as if it was a pathetic plea, and how your breasts would move up and down at the motion.

“Keep clenchin’ on me like that babygirl and imma nut in this pussy f’real” he warned but you couldn’t help it. He just felt too good and your pussy was aching to have another release. As his dick kept pushing in and out of you, your moans were turning into gasps due to the amount of pleasure you were receiving from him. Your body was trembling and you just wanted him closer and while it probably wasn’t a good idea, you wanted his white seed anyway. Your arms found their way around his neck as you pulled him into you for another desperate make out session which you received.

Your hips bucked upward as you clenched around him again….and again, while your tongue was too busy playing with his. But you felt another orgasm approaching and judging by the soft twitch of his dick you felt, he was close too. Upon feeling this, one of your hands found their way behind his head as another one found its way onto his chest. You gave him that look, the one where you begged and got whatever you wanted. “I w-want you to n-nut in me, nut in this pussy please! Ughnnn yes daddy!!” You said before throwing your head back feeling his cock brush over your g-spot again. “That’s what you want f’real? Huh? Imma give it to you and you gon’ take it too” he muttered as he rolled his hips against yours causing your legs to tremble and your hips to buck up as gasps came from you as you felt yourself let go again all over his dick covering it again in your juices, your head thrown back. A low grunt left his lips along with a string of curse words as he grabbed your hips and held them in that position, releasing his seed inside of you without thinking twice. Both of you panted, but mostly you because knowing him, he could go all night long. You didn’t mind it, in fact…one more round couldn’t hurt.

The next morning, you woke up slowly, the sun creeping in through the blinds, feeling like you had just gone to sleep only moments ago. The sheets felt warm around you, the scent of the room thick with a lingering smell of perfume, cologne, and something more intimate you couldn’t quite place. You shifted, your mind still hazy, trying to recall the events of last night.

Then it hit you.

The night. Zilla.

You quickly shot up in bed, your body stiff with realization. Your heart raced as you ran your hand through your hair, but when you looked around, everything felt…off. The room wasn’t familiar—too clean, too neat. A strange, almost haunting feeling crept through you, like déjà vu was pulling at your mind.

You glanced over at the empty spot next to you. He wasn’t there. Of course, he wasn’t. He never was,…right?

But the ache of the night before still felt raw. You had been with him. You had actually been with Zilla Fatu. The memory of his hands on you, his lips against yours, his body pressed up against you—it was all still vivid, but there was this sense of loss that made you feel like you were waking up from a dream. A dream you had already lived.

As you were trying to process everything, a ringing sound broke through your thoughts, your phone buzzing loudly on the nightstand. You grabbed it, looking at the screen and seeing Jasmine’s name flash.

You answered quickly, hoping she could ground you, maybe explain what had happened.

“Hello?”

“Girl, you ready for tonight?” Jasmine’s voice was upbeat, but there was a small chuckle in it that you couldn’t quite place. “Me, you, and Serenity gon’ hit the club later. Same spot as last time. I already know we ’bout to shut shit down, huh?”

You stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment, attempting to gather your thoughts. The club.

You hadn't been to the club in—wait. No, that couldn’t be right. You had just been there… last night. Right?

The déjà vu hit you again, heavy and overwhelming, pulling you back into that haunting, familiar memory. The same club, the same lights, the same music, the same people. You swore you’d already lived this moment, like the world had reset itself and you were being given a second chance.

“Uh…yeah,” you finally muttered, your voice sounding a little distant even to yourself. “I’ll…I’ll getting ready at 6.” What the fuck is even happening….you felt him inside of you quite literally…how the hell.

“Bet. I’ll pick you up at 5:45. Don’t be late this time!” Jasmine laughed on the other end, but her laughter only sounded more distant, like the echo of something that had already happened. You hung up, your mind still racing as the reality of what you had just experienced started to sink in.

You shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of it. Maybe you were just being dramatic. You definitely weren’t gonna let this mess with your plans tonight. You’d go out, hang with your girls, have a good time. Maybe Zilla wouldn’t even be there this time.

It was 12 in the afternoon right now so you had some time to gather your thoughts, decompress, and even order room service to just overall clear your head space.

As you sat around, you ended up scrolling on Zilla’s Instagram page but you didn’t see anything about him out and about but, he was also pretty private other than maybe uploading one or two clips while he’s currently somewhere living it up. That wasn’t the case this time, while you didn’t wanna get your hopes up that he wasn’t in fact going to be there, that dream you had found its way back into your mind. Before you know it, it was 3:00 which prompted you to get and walk over to your closet. You had to get dressed, focus on the present—tonight—and not the past. The club was calling, and you weren’t going to let some random feelings of déjà vu stop you from looking and feeling good.

You pulled out your outfit for the night: a bodycon black dress that hugged your curves perfectly, the material soft but tight, showing off your legs. The dress had cut-out sleeves that extended just past your shoulders, leaving the rest of your arms bare. The sleeves were slit, with small holes where your thumbs could peek through, and you loved the subtle detail. You paired it with clear heels, the kind that were tall and sleek, making your legs look even longer, with the perfect pedicure you couldn’t wait to show off.

You slid the dress on, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was a 40-inch sew-in, dark and blended so perfectly it almost looked like it grew out of your scalp. You’d spent the last hour curling it with a black curling iron, each strand wrapping around the barrel until it formed smooth, bouncy curls that gave your hair body and movement. You ran your fingers through it, giving the curls a little fluff, letting them fall naturally around your shoulders and down your back. The shine was immaculate, almost as if it were alive, catching the light with every turn of your head. It was the kind of hair that demanded attention, and tonight, it was all yours. The way bounced with volume, catching the light in the midst of it, made you feel like you were that girl. Your makeup was sharp, dark, and feminine, with deep eye makeup that made your lashes look longer than they really were, a perfect winged eyeliner that made your eyes pop. Your lips were lined with black lip liner, topped with gloss that shimmered just enough to look irresistible. You finished the look with silver hoop earrings, and damn, you felt like you could conquer the night.

Jasmine pulled up soon after, and you met Serenity in the car, both of them looking fire. Jasmine wore a fitted red dress that hugged her hips in all the right ways, with strappy heels that clicked with every step. Serenity had on a bold leopard print jumpsuit, accentuating her curves, paired with knee-high boots that screamed confidence. The three of you walked into the club like you were the headline act, eyes immediately on you as soon as you stepped through the door.

The stares were instant. People—men and women alike—couldn’t keep their eyes off you three. But you didn’t notice them as much as you noticed the familiar energy you felt in the air. The music was loud, the lights flashing, and the crowd was moving, but there he was.

Zilla.

He was sitting in the same VIP section from before, surrounded by his cousins and a few women, just like last time. The moment your eyes locked with his, time seemed to stop. His gaze held yours, that dark, possessive look from the night before—the one that had left you breathless. You were frozen, your heart hammering in your chest as déjà vu swept over you again, even stronger this time. You knew what was coming. You had already lived this moment. And the weight of it pressed on you, making your stomach flip.

The familiar pull, the heat between you and him—it was undeniable. Your body already knew what it felt like to be near him, to feel his touch.

But now, standing there, watching him lean back and smirk like he knew exactly what was on your mind, you had to ask yourself…Was it worth it?

Authors note: Yeahhh I listened to this song over 20 times ngl and I’ve been doing a lot of request still have 2 more to work on 🙂

Authors note #2: Yeah I didn’t proof read this so if there’s any errors I’m sorry 😭

Taglist: @punksyeet @luvrsluxe @luvrgirl4roman @sheaabuttaababyy @mselenalovebug @binnieaddict @uceyliyahh @partypoison00 @empressdede @marsstyles

Divider credits to @cafekitsune

[muniimyg]

1.5: ah, shit 》 series m.list

note: look at me go with the updates :o

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

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

//

“Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!” 

Jungkook makes a face at you, unable to hold his laughter in. “This is too good. Golden even. I can’t believe my luck today—”

“You know what? Forget about it. My bad,” you mumble, beginning to feel embarrassed.

Jungkook had just entered your bedroom and found you opening a box of condoms. He isn’t too sure why the sight of you doing so was so hilarious, he just knows it is. 

“W-what? No!” Jungkook begins to plead, taking the box of condoms from your hands and putting them aside. “___, of course, I wanna fuck. What kind of fucking idiot do you think I am? And XL? You must’ve thought about me a lot, huh?”

“Fuck you.”

“Sure," he takes this moment in, “is now a good time?”

You cross your arms at him, giving him an annoyed look. “Why are you laughing then?” 

“Because… I didn’t think this would happen again.” Jungkook confesses, a little afraid of your reaction. When to comes to other peoples feelings, you’re not the soft type. Yet, when it comes to your own; you are almost always overly sensitive. He’s learned this about you simply over time. It’s endearing to him and annoying to others.

You shrug at him, taking an article of your clothing off. Tossing it at him, you gesture for him to do the same. He then pulls his sweater over his head and drops it on the ground along with your shirt. Jungkook keeps his eyes on you as you begin to strip more and more. His eyes follow each curve that gets exposed and he can’t help but wonder why his throat is suddenly dry. It’s weird because he swears he’s probably drooling right now. 

When you’re down to just your panties and bra, you take a step towards him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he gulps as you inch closer to him. You’d be an idiot not to notice his sudden change of stance. 

It’s obvious.

Jungkook has folded. 

“Do you have feelings for me, Jungkook?”

You ask him this calmly.

Your words and the tone you used to ask don’t seem to match. The words itself carry so much possibility of change and chance… Yet, the way you said it was so distant and meaningless. It’s like it wasn’t a big deal. It’s like… It didn’t even matter if he said yes. 

He takes a moment too long to answer. 

“Spit it out, you little shit.”

“N-no,” he attempts to sound convincing. You had already made him a fool once this evening… He wasn’t going to let you have the victory of being a joke to you again. “It’s you. You like me.”

Tilting your head, you pout at him. “Don’t make assumptions. Your ego won’t be able to handle rejection.”

“I’m not assuming and you’re not exactly rejecting me,” he grumbles, feeling defensive. “Just admit it. You’ve wanted me the second we met.”

You wiggle your finger at him. “Stop projecting, pookie bear.”

Jungkook makes a sour face. “Ohh… Yeah, it does sound bad.”

“See?” you laugh, hitting his chest lightly. 

“How about… I stop calling you pookie bear—”

You gasp, “okay! Loving this…”

“When you stop denying—”

In a panic, you interrupt him; “hating it…”

“Come on,” he groans. “You have to admit it. You like me at least a little bit… That’s why you and I fucked a month ago. It was all the built-up tension.” He says it like he knows it in his heart. Like there’s no other answer than what he just stated. For a moment, you believe him. 

Instead, you remember that night and you recall what had led up to it. You had just gotten dumped for the nth time by your shithead of a boyfriend. Jungkook saw you walking home and cheered you up to your apartment. From there, it just happened.

It was so easy.

It felt so effortless and like it was meant to happen. That understanding… Felt weird. You did your best to forget about it and how it made you feel but it takes two to tango and your partner in crime felt differently. Ever since that day, he has not shut the fuck up.

That day, Jungkook found himself in between your legs and you found yourself self-loathing the next morning. It wasn’t in your intentions to use Jungkook the way you did.. But he didn’t seem to have a problem with it. Which brings you to this conclusion:

“What are you trying to get out of me, Jungkook? A confession?”

He shrugs, feeling indifferent. “I’m not demanding anything from you.”

You shake your head at him. “What the fuck? Jungkook, you can’t be my rebound.”

“Why not?” he whines childishly.

“It’s mean.”

Jungkook takes a moment to contemplate. Ultimately, he snaps out of it and brushes his thoughts off as if he didn’t even try to think things through. “It’s okay. I have a crush on you so I’m going into this completely delusional and shit.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you pinch his cheeks. “Can you stop goofing around? Be real. I might be more interested in you if you do.”

He glares at you. 

“Fine,” Jungkook gives in. “I’m just fucking with you. To be honest, I’m just trying to be here for you. As a friend and all… If fucking around is what you need, then so be it. Whatever you want from me, you can have. You just have to ask.”

You purse your lips at him, not buying a single word he offers you. Regardless, you inch closer. Bantering with him is actual agony… But, you can’t resist him. It’s a weird pull he has on you and you rather die than to admit it to him.

Instead, you let your actions speak for you. It’s the most you’ll do in terms of confessing or even processing how you feel about him. All you know and all you want to know is how he feels against, inside, and on top of your body. You your lips on his neck, near his collarbone. At first, you kiss it lightly. Then, as you pull away, you suck on it a bit. Repeating this motion, you work on giving him a hickey. 

“I…”

“You?”

“I wanna fuck.”

Your room looks the same as it did a month ago. He feels so lucky to be here again.. But holy shit; you're a piece of work.

Is he a joke to you? Is that it? Because Jungkook has been in complete distress for a good five minutes now and he doesn’t know what to do.

“Fucking hold still,” Jungkook grunts, as he pins you down. His hands cover your wrist and all you can do is giggle. He does his best to compose himself. If he lets his emotions get in the way, you'll laugh even more.

“I can’t—it’s poking me!” 

He rolls his eyes at you. “It's my dick, ___. Of course, it's gonna feel like that."

"It feels weird,” you giggle. “Why is it so big?”

"Don't call my dick weird.”

You squint at him. “I also called it big.”

“Well, it’s gonna stop being big if you don’t stop fucking laughing at it.”

You tighten your lips. “Sorry, sorry.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and tries again.

He guides himself between your folds and glances at you to see if you’re behaving any better. Holding in your laughter, you shut your eyes and try to concentrate on how it feels. 

How velvety the skin of his thick, veiny, and hard cock is. How wet the head is. How big it is as he pushes himself inside you. 

You open your eyes and boom. 

There he is.

So handsome and on top of you. His silver neckless dangles in the space between you and him. Your eyes flutter at the way it moves according to his thrusts. It feels like you could go dizzy.

Then, you blink and see him suddenly close his eyes and lean in towards you. Out of an odd relfex, you squirm and let out a loud burst of laughter. 

“What the fuck?” Jungkook cries, completely frustrated with you. “___, are you serious?”

In between laughs, you tell him; “I was trying! But you were leaning in to kiss me and the way you shut your eyes looked so stupid—you look so s-stupid—w-what the fuck?”

Jungkook grips your wrists and puts them above your head. He towers over you even more and the expression on his face is hard to read. He looks angry but not in a scary way. He looks desperate and needy but not in the loser way… He looks insanely hot right now. You feel yourself clench, getting tighter around him. 

“You love fucking with me, don’t you?” he hisses. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

You nod in response. 

“Then fucking behave.”

You nod again. 

He shakes his head, dissatisfied with your response. He lets go of your wrists and cups your cheeks together with his one hand. With your lips smushed together, he asks you; “answer me properly.”

“Y-yes,” you murmur, “I’ll behave.”

Cockily, he raises his brow at you. “Good. Now open your mouth.”

You do as he says. He loosens his hold on you, letting you open your mouth on your own. When you do so, you watch him accumulate spit. Quickly, he spits inside your mouth.

You spit it back out at him.

“Sike.”

His own saliva hits his face. Jungkook briefly turns away, biting his inner cheek in annoyance.

“You wanna play fucking games? Fine. Let’s fucking play games.” Jungkook practically growls.

You gulp, trying your best to keep a straight face. It wasn’t funny anymore. Instead, everything was beginning to feel hot and heavy. His cock stays inside you and you can feel him throbbing. You want him to move now. 

Maybe you made the wrong move. 

But it’s too late. 

Jungkook’s mind has been made up and his pride can’t take any more shit you’ve given him all night. Sometimes, you forget how much of a man he is. You’ve only pushed boundaries as friends as a joke… And you barely remember what it was like sleeping with him a month ago… Was he always like this?

You feel sick to your stomach when you realize; you like it. 

The rest of the night continues with Jungkook’s nasty mouth all over your body. It’s like every crevasse was for him to discover and claim as his. He took his time, pumping himself inside you. He took his time even more when he kissed you. 

It was so slow and wet, but with every thrust and kiss—oh, were you fucked out of your mind. 

His hands were all over you. It wasn’t exactly mind-blowing sex but it wasn’t too far from it either. Everything he did just felt so right and that surprised you. Contrary to popular belief; Jungkook was no fuckboy. He simply knew how to fuck.

God bless that fact.

He has always been that silly goofy friend in your circle of people. He has always been kind and a little flirty… But he was also really self-aware and brought a lot of meaning into every friendship. Perhaps, that’s why you ended up turning the other cheek and dating guys opposite of him. 

If you were to be with Jungkook, it would be too real. 

It would be too good and that’s what scared you… 

Ah, shit.

How could you ever get over something this good?

[milksuu]

…the poly sett/reader/aphelios… ur insane for that one… i need a follow up🤭

-🎧

❥ prompt: Sharing is caring. And so is getting along. When it comes to you, Sett and Aphelios are working on it. ❥ content/warnings: mild suggestive themes, fluff, teasing, cuddling, possessive boyfriend behavior ❥ characters/pairings: poly!heartsteel!settphel x f!reader

"This one is so cute, Sett. Your mama really knows which ones to get you," you smiled, rubbing your face against a PoroKing plushie.

"Oh, yeah. When it comes to Ma', I got lucky and ended up with the best," Sett said with a grin, "but, let's be honest here. You're the cutest thing on my bed right now."

Aphelios narrowed his eyes against his computer screen. Clicking and typing away. He was working on a sample Yone had sent him to dabble with for their next song. He would need to ensemble some lyrics to go along with it at some point. Except...he slapped his hands against his desk, turning a sharp chin towards you and Sett.

"Uh-oh," you said, wrapping your arms around Sett's neck. "I don't think Phelly likes us being all lovey-dovey without him."

"Looks like it," Sett agreed with a snaggle tooth smile. "I mean, he's free to come on over when he's done being glued to his computer. He's been ignoring us for hours. What did he expect?"

Aphelios popped the cap off a marker, took up his notepad, and scribbled:

I'm actually working. Unlike someone I know. I wOndEr wHo?

You gasped, covering your mouth. "Phelly's extra sassy today."

"Extra? Nah, he can be worse than this. Believe it or not, he's in one of his better moods today." Sett chuckled, lowering his head and planting a kiss to your collarbone. "Probably because you're here. But it's got me thinkin'. Wonder how his mood will change when I take you all for myself. Right in front of him."

You shuddered at the tingling feeling. "Don't you think you're being a little mean?"

"The boss can't be nice all the time. Sometimes, he's gotta play the big bad wolf," he grumbled a purr, carefully nipping at your chest with his canines. You couldn't help the fluttering of your eyelids and hitched moans.

Aphelios almost snapped the marker in half. He jumped out of his desk chair. And launched a calculated attack while Sett had his arms filled with you.

"Woah! Buddy. What're you doing—?" Aphelios snatched Sett's chin, and planted the black marker against his nose and cheeks. With quick strokes, he painted the look of an actual dog on his face. Whiskers, snout and all. "Wait, isn't this permanent marker!?" Sett released you from his hold, jumping out of the bed and making a beeline for the bathroom.

Aphelios released a 'hmph' with a satisfied glean in his eyes. He sat down next to you, laced his arms around you, and plopped you both against the bed.

"Maybe Phelly's the real villain," you commented, snuggling his bed of hair. "But you two need to play nice. Okay? That was a mean thing to do to Setty. You should both apologize."

There was a twitch in his brow. He was the mean one!? He needed to apologize!? He brought you closer, placing his face between your neck and shoulder. He shook his head back and forth.

"Yes. Phelly. It's the nice thing to do," you said softly. "I know you two won't always get along. But I know you both love each other very much. And I love you both very much, too. And we can show that when we apologize after we hurt one another. Right?"

Aphelios buried himself deeper into the crook of your neck. Muffling his whines and groans into the heat of your skin. He didn't like admitting fault. He'd rather throw a written apology into the nearest burning trash can than give it to the actual person. It wasn't his fault he tended to hold onto grudges. It was always the other person's fault for not taking his personality into consideration. If they cared enough, they would know that about him. And in that case, they were making the conscious decision to be put on his shit list. He was the reasonable one. As far as he could tell.

"Please, Phelly," you asked sweetly, planting a kiss to the top of his head.

He exhaled one last breath of resistance. Somehow, you always had an unfair advantage over him. Slowly, he left the warmth of your body. That was a painful in itself. He almost cowered back into your arms. Needing a bit more strength, he slipped his mask down, and took your lips. Applying just enough pressure to make you both moan. Alright. That's all he needed. He could do this. He took up his notebook and marker.

Just as Aphelios was about to leave the room, Sett appeared from the door. His cheeks bruised red from all the scrubbing he had to do. Aphelios shifted his gaze away. A silent grip ensnared the two. Sett rubbed the guilty knot at the back of his neck. After a moment of silence, he grumbled under his breath. "Listen, Phel—"

Aphelios flipped his notebook around:

Sorry.

Sett stumbled against his words. He hadn't expected Aphelios to be the one to apologize first. Or honestly, apologize in the first place. Technically, it was Sett's own fault for egging him on the way he did. Sett's trouble was evident in the frown lines against his face.

"Yeah. I'm sorry too, Phel." Sett sighed, ears drooped. "I shouldn't have teased ya'h like that. But I couldn't help it. I just wanted you to take a break and cuddle with us. That's all. Hope you can forgive me."

Aphelios paused. The marker squeaked against the paper. He tossed his chin away, cheeks stained pink. He flipped the notepad:

I'll forgive you. On one condition. I'm middle.

Sett's ears perked-up. Grinning like a panting pup, he swooped Aphelio's into his love-crushing arms. You laughed when Sett dove onto the bed, causing you to bounce from the weight. Unraveling Aphelios like a long awaited package, you and Sett planted kisses against his flushed cheeks. The both of you then secured your legs across him, took up his upper-body, and rubbed against his figure in every way possible. Aphelios whined and groaned. He wanted to be cuddled—not suffocated. Of course, with his luck, things had to turn out this way.

an: poly!settphel x reader is my new crack. give me all the fics pls. also, maybe the next part will be nsfw. hmmmm! thank you for the follow req. anon!