#you should definitely go read anon

[persephoneflouwers]

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[tim-official]

the current trend of "tumblr users embarrassing themselves by proudly announcing why they don't listen to any music made by black people" is really astounding.

i cannot help but think this is a direct result of liberal White Guilt and how people have interpreted "anti-racism" as form of cultural self-segregation - the kind of person who thinks trying to cook chicken curry is cultural appropriation, or sends white people anon hate for wearing a kimono (yes, this kind of discourse happened). like, "oh, no, i could never participate in this culture, i'd get my evil white hands all over it! it would be more Progressive if I only did White things."

if you're a poc you've seen this, i'm sure - this deer-in-the-headlights stare you can get from white people when you play music / show art / share a story / anything that is Racially Coded, this total refusal to actually engage with it out of fear that it is in some way Wrong for them to have any opinion on it. because they read somewhere that it's bad to use AAVE but the only lesson they actually learned from that is "gotcha, white people are not allowed to interact with other cultures as punishment for my White Crimes. this helps to fill up the gaping pit of my white guilt and makes me one of the Good People." this transforms their discomfort around non-white cultures (black culture, especially, i should add) into a kind of virtue

anyway if you are white and reading this. go listen to some fucking haliu mergia. ethiopian jazz. will knock your dick right off. go listen to rap or reggae or bollywood and have a genuine reaction to it - like, an actual, from-the-heart reaction. you are allowed to not like some of it. but you will definitely like at least a little. yes, you can compare it to lemon demon (or whatever) if that helps you get into it and that's your only point of reference. maybe don't say that part out loud. but don't, like, separate yourself from it, like you are seeing it in a museum and the only polite thing to do is go "ahh, huh, very interesting, so much culture here."

[alexiroflife]

jjk men calling you annoying...

"hi! ik u have a few reqs to do and ur going on vacation but i was reading some of ur works and saw u did a headcannon for calling jjk men annoying. i was thinking what if u did the opposite w the jjk men calling reader annoying? if u dont decide to do this thats okay! cant wait to eat up your other upcoming fics <3" -anon

some angst, jjk men being assholes (except for nanami)

satoru, suguru, kento, choso, toji, sukuna

satoru gojo:

normally, satoru is the one that is considered to be annoying. every higher up, coworker, and student of his alike would agree that satoru’s personality is pestering on its own, for his behavior doesn’t align with the severity of the jujutsu world in the eyes of others.

satoru has never cared how others judged him, for he often takes to picking on others for the sake of getting a reaction. he enjoys lightening the mood of drab situations, therefore he’s tossing around inappropriate jokes during meetings, teasing utahime for the umpteenth time, or trying to force megumi into spending quality time with him while the sixteen year old does his best to pretend he doesn’t know him in public.

and with you, he’s far worse. satoru can not bear being away from you or your attention being focused into anything other than him for longer than two minutes, and he’s always making an excuse to abandon whatever he’s doing to be by your side. satoru is the very definition of clingy, and while everyone finds it annoying, you can not deny that you adore how the strongest glues himself to you as though he can not bear for the two of you to be parted.

those around him believe it’s impossible for someone as annoying as gojo to actually be annoyed by anything, but you know what pisses him off. you know that he can not stand the jujutsu higher ups and how they antagonize children who were given no choice but to live the lives they lead. he can not stand the way they order him around to carry out unfavorable tasks with no regard for his past experiences or the experiences of the students that he is meant to monitor. he can not stand the lectures, the judgmental tones, the expectation of respect when it is not given in return.

and he can not stand when he is forced to attend hearings or meetings with them, where he has to listen to them drone on and on about how irresponsible he is when satoru is the only one truly looking out for the good of all groups. they demand so much of him, yet treat him like trash in return. nothing peeves him off more.

he knows that you understand this about him as a jujutsu sorcerer yourself, but you have the tendency to be more tolerant of injustices than he is. what he means is that you know how to save face for the sake of your own sanity and pay the elders no mind whilst simultaneously making them think that you are in cooperation with them. you know how to feign manners and respect, which satoru does not bother to do.

consequently, when you tell him that the upcoming meeting that he has scheduled with the higher ups is one he should attend instead of skipping due to its level of importance, he can’t help but be irritated with you.

“i’m just saying, satoru,” you say into the speaker with your phone pressed to your ear. the blue eyed man is on his way to said meeting after you practically forced him to attend, and he’s not at all happy about it. “once you’re in there, you’ll be out in no time.”

“(y/n), somehow those pricks make a half an hour feel like two,” your boyfriend complained into the phone. you place your hand on your hip and look up to the ceiling.

“you’re being so pessimistic about it,” you sigh. “it’s gonna be worse the worse you talk about it.”

“no, it’s gonna be bad regardless because these higher ups don’t know up from down or left from right.”

you can tell he’s growing aggravated, which was the opposite effect you wanted this call to have. you lower your head and attempt to shift, to reassure him in a different way.

“it’s gonna be okay, toru,” you tell him. “you’re above these people anyway, no matter what the hierarchy at this school is-“

“if you really thought that, you wouldn’t have made me go.”

you frown. “you didn’t really have a choice with this one, you know that right? whether you like the assholes or not, the meeting itself is important. you need to be there.”

“i really wish you’d stop saying that,” he exhales, agitatedly.

“stop saying what?” you scrunch your face, hand falling from your hip. “that it’s your responsibility?”

“yeah, actually,” he snaps. “hell, you’re starting to sound just like everyone else.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you scoff. “satoru, i’m just trying to help you. sometimes you just have to suck it up and deal.”

“suck it up?” he repeats incredulously. “i suck it up every day of my life. everyone wants me to do something for them, but expects me not to have my own opinions in return and that shit doesn’t make any sense.”

“that’s not what i’m trying to say-“

“then what are you trying to say? to just go along with all the messed up shit the higher ups want me to do?”

“no.”

“then what?”

“to just attend a meeting for the sake of your job, satoru. my god, that’s all.”

he tchs, and you can imagine him rolling his eyes on the other line. “fine. whatever.”

“what’s with your attitude? i’m genuinely just trying to look out for you, like…?”

“you’re not helping, (y/n). you’re being annoying.”

his words sting, and you stand still in the hall to your classroom as you register satoru’s tone and accusation. there’s silence, and satoru knows that when you say nothing more, he’s crossed a line.

even so, he’s too heated currently to own up to it in this moment, so he lets the silence swallow you both as he walks.

“okay,” you mumble apathetically after a while. “bye, satoru.”

you hear him prepare to say something, but your thumb is already hiding the end call button.

throughout the next half and hour, you try your best to focus on teaching your lesson to the second years, but you find yourself struggling.

you understand satoru’s frustrations with the higher ups, but to take that frustration out on you is completely uncalled for.

and to call you annoying? for ensuring that he doesn’t further endanger his already shaky position with the the authorities over him? how ungrateful is that! how could he label you as a disturbance to him when all you’ve ever done was try to lighten his load?

you don’t understand it. and it hurts to know that one little thing in comparison to the plethora of clingy annoyances that satoru has the habit of displaying that you don’t even find aggravating is enough to send him over the edge.

you’re aggressively erasing your chalkboard at the end of your lesson when you hear the sound of air flushing and papers fluttering behind you. immediately, you feel satoru’s presence much to your displeasure.

“baby?” he calls you tentatively, though you already know full well that he is there in your vacant room. you don’t reply, continuing to swipe your eraser over the chalk. “baby, please don’t ignore me,” he sighs guiltily. “can i… can we just talk?”

“get out, satoru.”

you can physically feel Satoru’s mannerisms droop behind you, but you do not fall for it. he deserves your standoffishness, your unwillingness to engage.

“i just wanna talk, (y/n)… just five minutes?”

you clench your jaw, brows angling tensely as his earlier words run through your mind again and again. your pace picks up and your movements grow harsher.

before you know it, you feel the white haired man brushing behind you inches away, reaching a hand to your shoulder. “(y/n)?”

“stop!” you rip away, stepping back. satoru retracts his hand quickly, crystal eyes blown wide as he watches you. you slam your eraser down onto the ledge and hold your hands up. “just stop! you don’t get to be rude to me and then just come back around as if everything’s okay. what if I don’t want to talk to you?”

having removed his blindfold before coming here, you can see the pain and remorse circling in his gaze. “pretty, i didn’t mean to say what i said,” he starts again slowly. “i-i’m sorry, i was just overstimulated and angry- not even at you, and you were telling me to do something I didn’t want to do but had to do, then i…” he huffs. “i’m so sorry.”

you fold your arms and stare harshly at the board, brows twitching as satoru’s smooth, genuine apology flows through your ears.

when you still don’t say anything, satoru’s mouth tugs downward and his lashes fluttere prettily over his cheek. “it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk to me or see me right now. i was being shitty, and i didn’t mean it, baby. i just had to come and tell you that as soon as the meeting was over… and you were right. i needed to be there.”

you close your eyes. “why don’t you ever listen to me?”

satoru practically jumps when he hears you speak. “what did you say?”

“you never listen to me, toru,” you look at him desperately. “you always do what you want to do, and when i have to make you do something, you pout. is what i say really that unimportant to you?”

“no,” he rushes out, swooping in to stand before you so he can meet your eyes up close. “no, no, no. no, that’s not it.”

“then what is it?”

“i listen to you, baby. i do, i just struggle when you give me suggestions about work because we have completely different approaches. you play by the rules more and i do what i think is best even if it’s not what I’m told is best. which is okay. i’m not saying that either way is better than the other, it’s just that difference between us clashes sometimes.”

you hum.

“but that doesn’t mean i don’t listen, or don’t respect you, (y/n). i respect you more than anyone i know.”

“then you should act like it.”

“i know,” he pushed out his bottom lip, taking your forearms in his hands. “i know, i can be all over the place sometimes. i’m sorry pretty girl.”

you wish you could stay angry, but satoru’s touch almost instantly melts away the tension in your body. almost.

“please don’t call me annoying like that again,” you look over him. “seriously, that wasn’t nice.”

“never,” he swears. “i promise, never again. i don’t even know why it came out in the first time. please forgive me, baby, I’m sorry.”

you exhale, and before you can respond, satoru is ducking down and suffocating your face with a plethora of kisses from your forehead to cheeks and down to your jaw. murmurs of apologizes slip through as he attacks you, and you squeal as you try turn away.

“okay!” you shout, pushing at his chest. “i forgive you, get off!”

“i love youuu,” he lands a particularly long kiss to your nose. “so much. let me take you out tonight to apologize properly, pretty. will you let me?”

you stifle a smile, keeping your hands to your chest as you glare up at him when he pulls away with a grin. “fine.”

suguru geto:

suguru loves you dearly, truly he does, but he notices that the longer he is in a relationship with you, the more entitled you become. granted, he spoils the hell out of you because you’re his one and only, therefore he only feels it is appropriate to shower you with the unconditional love that he has for you.

you know that suguru rarely ever says no to you. hell, he doesn’t want to deny you of the things you ask of him because he should be the person that you always come to for anything. along with his girls, you’ve stolen his heart, and his love language is taking care of you - making you rotten.

so when suguru can not abide by what you demand, you pout and poke and prod and pester. in some ways, you remind him of how satoru used to behave in his company, so commanding of what you want from him in the most combative, brattiest way that it has him rubbing the space between his forehead with angled brows.

and the attitude on you is criminal. suguru knows he can not necessarily talk because his attitude is just as bad, but the moment suguru disagrees with you about something, you make it a point keep pressing the matter sassily.

there are a million things that suguru finds to be more of a pain to his peace than you, but he can not deny that when you get on his nerves, you truly tick him off.

suguru is known to have very little patience in general. he chalks it up to his occupation, having to deal with idiotic human beings all day to the point where it wears down his capacity for bullshit. he needs things to resolve themselves at his pace in order to feel as though he can go about his day, but when they don’t, it frustrates him to no end.

that is why when you fail to give it a rest after suguru has told you no four times now to getting lunch with you because he has business to take care of, he is beginning to lose his cool.

“(y/n),” suguru exhales your name in exasperation. he’s on his way out of the front door. “angel, you know i’m busy today. you’re usually a lot more understanding when it comes to my schedule, i don’t know where the disconnect is right now.”

you’re growing upset, for you’ve never enjoyed watching suguru leave, but for some reason you are feeling all the more sensitive to his departure today. the dark haired cult leader has been so busy lately that you and the girls have hardly been able to catch him for longer than five minutes when he’s home. you want to sit and talk with him, to at least have a quick thirty minute meal together, but he’s still refusing you, and you never fair well with being refused by geto.

“but suguru,” you curl your brows and gaze at him sadly. “I’m just asking for one day. that’s all, we don’t even need to be out long. i already have a place in mind that’s right around the corner from the group- i can even pick you up. you won’t have to worry about a thing. please, just this once?”

the hazel eyed man can not stand saying no to you, even more so when you look at him with such pleading in your eyes, but he’s told you a hundred times that he can’t do what you please today. as much as he’d love to go to lunch with you, there are no exceptions. he’s already pushing himself behind by trying to reason with you.

“the answer is no, (y/n),” he tells you with soft sternness. your frown deepens leading Suguru to walk over to you. he guides his hand to your waist and presses a kiss to your forehead in an attempt to make you feel better. “i’m sorry. i know things haven’t been the best lately with me being home, but i’m trying my best.”

you want to be more supportive, but you miss suguru. you do, and to feel like a second priority to a cult he doesn’t even like makes you upset.

you grumble incoherently under your breath and cross your arms. suguru feels your stature shift, and he pulls away to eye you. you avoid his gaze purposefully, and suguru instantly knows what’s going on with you.

“don’t start,” he advises as a warning. you don’t take well to the comment, the muscles in your face tightening as you go to ease away from suguru’s grasp. he doesn’t have time for this right now. “i mean it.”

“i’m not even doing anything,” you murmur, looking down as suguru examines you closely.

“you’re sulking.”

“okay, and maybe that’s because i don’t want my boyfriend to leave?” you snap.

“i know, (y/n). you’re acting like i want to leave too, but this is work.”

“and clearly work’s more important now,” you roll your eyes.

suguru shakes his head and pulls away with narrow eyes. “you’re being incredibly irritating right now.”

you freeze, geto’s words stabbing you through the chest like a stake to the heart. “what?” you repeat weakly, your grit having gone.

“you aren’t listening to me. it’s getting old and it’s irritating,” he says again, this time as he turns away and walks back to the door.

you stare at his back blankly. your heart hammers against your chest, and your face falls. normally when you behave a certain way that suguru doesn’t appreciate, he spends his time either circling back and trying to reach and understand or punishing you. but now, he’s just walking away with no intention of doing either. you expected more, and you hadn’t expected for him to outright call you annoying.

sure, you push a little too much sometimes, but annoying? all you want is him. is it annoying to desire such a simple thing?

“i’ll be home later, alright? we can talk about this when i get back,” he tells you, pulling the door open and allowing the sunlight to peer in. when you do not respond, he speaks again in annoyance. “alright?”

you still don’t answer, and this time he turns over his shoulder to see what is keeping you from giving him a verbal affirmation.

his face relaxes, however, when he says you standing silently with your hands at your sides. your gaze has turned to one of subtle embarrassment as you frown, mulling over suguru’s emotions in a less stubborn, more deflated manner.

despite suguru’s irritation with you, the moment he sees your discomfort, he’s flipping the switch in an instant.

slowly, he shuts the door again without a word. he figures it won’t hurt anyone to be another five minutes late, for he is the founder of the religious group after all. what he says goes, and he will not leave until this mild conflict with you is sorted out.

he walks over and takes your head in his hands, tilting your face up to reveal your big, shiny eyes. with another quiet sigh, he’s taking one hand and rubbing your shoulder as he holds your stare.

“i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he tells you gently, immediately knowing what is plaguing you. “i’m just frustrated.”

“…frustrated with me?” you ask slowly.

he presses his lips together. “yeah, angel. i am a little bit,” he confesses honestly. while this isn’t the response you wanted, geto knows it’s the response you need to hear… even if you struggle to accept it, your head nodding stiffly but your eyes telling a story of humiliation. and he hates it. he hates how unhappy you look, but no good has ever come from partners lying to one another about how they feel.

“but,” you start as suguru’s swipes a thumb over your brow lovingly. “suguru, all i wanted was to have lunch with you. is that such a crazy thing? you’re hardly around anymore.”

“i know, (y/n), and no it’s not, but you’re not respecting the fact that while i want to more than anything, i can’t. not today,” he says once more. “i do this for you and the girls too, you know. it’s not just for me. any money i make is yours, and if i need to work my ass off to provide for you and our future, i will. and it’s not fair for you to throw a fit when i can’t drop all of that when you ask me to.”

it’s a hard pill for you to swallow, but you know that suguru’s point is more than valid.

you inhale and exhale deeply, his touch swarming you tenderly despite how he feels. “I’m sorry,” you apologize. “im sorry for pushing. i just want you here. it gets hard sometimes, you know?”

“I know.”

he pulls your face in to kiss your cheek softly, your hand going to cradle his wrists.

“and i’m sorry if you’ve felt neglected in any way, and for calling you irritating. there was probably a better way for me to say that.”

“it’s okay,” you mumble as pulls away. “i probably was being annoying anyway...”

geto smiles softly. “you were,” he chuckles, and you gap at him.

“suguru,” you frown and he laughs again.

“sorry.” the hazel eyed man leans in to capture your lips in a soft kiss before you can pour any longer, eyes gleaming kindly when he draws back. he at least does not look aggravated any longer, his features much calmer than before. “how about a day out this weekend? you, me, and the girls.”

your eyes light up. “really? you’re sure?”

“yeah, angel,” he nods. “i miss you all too, you know. you’re all i think about when I’m dealing with those monkeys all day.”

“…can we maybe go to the farmer’s market?” you suggest. “i wanna get some stuff to make a big dinner for us, and the girls want to get some flowers.”

“absolutely we can. sounds great.”

“thank you,” you smile, wrapping your arms over his neck and tugging him down into a tight hug. suguru laughs gently, sliding his arms around you. “i hope you have a good day today. i won’t pester you about work anymore.”

“okay, baby,” he rubs your back. “I gotta go now, okay? i’ll try not to be out late. i love you.”

“i love you too.”

kento nanami:

despite kento’s remarkable talent in serving you as your partner, he is still a human being subject to human emotions. when he’s annoyed with you, he doesn’t make it your problem. he simply makes it known that he is beginning to be plagued by the feeling, and though it hurts your feelings, you understand and give him the space he needs.

kento does not get irritated with you often at all. you are a gift upon his stressful life, and it’s difficult for you to pose as a source of stress when the rest of his life is already so anxiety-inducing. you’re his everything, and even when he does get ever so slightly annoyed with you, it’s never at the same level as other factors - like gojo. you don’t even begin to compare.

the only time nanami finds himself growing upset because of you is when you choose not to listen to or communicate with him.

nanami works hard to put your needs before his own and he is more than happy to do so. he feels it is the only way things should be, for as long as you are happy and well cared for, he is content.

however, there are moments when he does so that can come off to you as a tad overbearing. he cares for your physical and mental wellbeing, so that also comes with constant check ins about whether you’re eating properly or how much sleep you’re getting. it’s sweet, his persistent doting, but you don’t always fair well with how often he’s interrogating you about your lifestyle when he literally witnesses every second of what you do as your fiancé.

and of course, when you react poorly by getting even the slightest hint of an attitude or portray your own annoyance in a poor manner, nanami, who always tries his best to find a solution to problems if you are bothered by something, is bothered himself when you do not cooperate.

nanami is incredibly patient with you, and he tries his best to practice patient with you when he internally feels you are being unreasonable.

so he resorts to silence as he ponders what to do next. you’re both sitting at the kitchen table as tension swirls about. your knee is frantically bouncing as you glare ahead. you don’t like when kento does something to bother you, for everything he does is so perfect you feel like you don’t have a right to be bothered, and you rarely ever are. and you may try to hide when you’re upset, but nanami sees you so clearly. he knows you like the back of his hand, therefore, there is no hiding.

and of course, nanami would never grow annoyed with what you feel… it’s how you communicate with him when you feel a certain way. you shut down and make it impossible for him to talk through it, and as someone who likes to work through things while they are occurring, it’s a bit of a pain when you go quiet and refuse to give him anything.

now, you both sit rather annoyed with one another, for that is likely the only instance nanami will feel some sort of irritation sparked by you. the blonde taps his finger against the table with his legs crossed, unsure of how to move forward. he’s tried calling your name, tried asking you what’s wrong, tried suggesting anything he can do to fix it, but you, afraid to even further speak truth into your emotions, reply with shrugs and mute shakes of your head.

it takes at least another few minutes for nanami to rise slowly, fixing the collar of his shirt and clearing his throat you look up and see by his rigid posture that he is not in the happiest of spirits, and when you finally notice, you realize that he had been silent along with you for quite some time now, his series of questions having ceased.

“i am going for a drive,” he announces formally. you blink up at him, your knee still bouncing. his chocolate eyes meet yours with a hefty sigh. “i won’t be longer than forty minutes.”

forty?!

“…okay,” is the very first word you have said in a while, and nanami nods curtly. though he appears indifferent, his shoulders are tense, his jaw is taut, and a dent creases the space between his brows. you can tell by these signs that he has grown to match your previous feelings. “where are you going?”

“to clear my head. i don’t believe anything productive will come from the both of us sitting here like this.”

you furrow your brows. “are you angry with me now?”

“no,” he gathers his keys. “i am not angry. only, admittedly, a bit perturbed,” he says without looking at you.

you know that nanami had annoyed you first, but to hear him tell you so is humbling nonetheless. what reason does he have to be annoyed? what did you do?

“um,” you stumble. “why…?”

the prospect of you now trying to interrogate him after he had spent so much time trying to get through to you, or at least a word out, does very little to ease the man.

he lifts a hand, guiding his palm out to ease the conversation before it can escalate. “(y/n), i’m not in any state to talk about this right now. give me a bit and i will be back.”

his eyes find yours to ensure that you see that earnest in his brow hues, and your shoulders slump, your knee stilling completely.

“is that alright?”

you nod slowly. “yes. that's alright.”

kento nods again, swiping up his jacket from the back of his chair before stepping out of the door, clicking it shut behind him.

you reel in his absence, sitting in the aftermath. maybe you reacted poorly… but you couldn’t help it. you don’t always enjoy being overwhelmed with a series of questions from your boyfriend as though he is your doctor or father. sometimes you just wish to be.

you know he only does so out of concern. you know he loves you, better than anyone has ever loved you, but your reaction had been involuntary.

the look on nanami’s face only proved that you should have handled the situation differently. you hate when he’s upset, but that way of thinking alone is unfair. he likely hates when you’re upset too, and you shut down when he was trying to help.

as guilt swarms you, you retreat to the living room where you mindlessly flip through the tv channels, your focus elsewhere.

kento ends up returning hardly twenty minutes later. you look in surprise to the door as he enters with takeout in his hands. he looks up, his face a bit more relaxed as he enters.

neither of you speak as he kicks his shoes off at the door and makes his way toward you. he sets the bags of food down on the coffee table before you and slowly sits down next to you, hands to his thighs.

“i got us dinner,” he says as you shuffle to make room for him. the aroma of your favorite thai food fills your senses and makes you become rather aware to your hunger, for you haven’t eaten in a while.

kento sits with his forearm resting on his knee, his body facing you. you look away, embarrassed to even speak to him, though you do whisper a ‘thank you’ that is only audible to nanami because he is seated right beside you.

he reaches a hand out to hold yours, his other sliding over top to caress the back of it. “honey,” he starts softly. “I don’t want this to go on longer than it should.”

“you’re back earlier than you said,” you mention, looking down at his hands over yours.

“i didn’t need to be gone long to want to sit down with you about this again.” you nod. “are you okay?” he asks you, and you nod again.

“yeah, are you?”

“i’m better,” he answers. “my intention was not to leave on a bad note so abruptly. i just needed a moment to myself.”

“no, i understand, ken. i don’t blame you for taking a step back.”

“are you okay with me telling you why i was upset?”

“of course i am.”

he gives a gentle smile before proceeding. “it seems that every time i try to work through something with you, you do not wish to cooperate. if you were to tell me that you need space before explaining, i would understand better and give you time, but you say nothing. you barely even look at me, and i try my best to give you the patience you deserve but you do not do the same for me.”

“it’s not that- I wasn’t trying to be impatient with you, it’s just that sometimes i don’t want to talk about things.”

“then I would prefer it if you’d say that instead of shutting me out, because then i’m left to pick up the pieces with nothing to go off of,” he pleads. “and it’s unhealthy for you to harbor everything that bothers you inside. you could get sick doing that, and it hinders our communication.”

you can tell he is about to give you another lecture, which is what led you here in the first place. you take in a deep breath and try to regulate yourself, glancing down. “yeah, i hear you,” you mutter. “i just get… i don’t know, it feels weird to tell you when something you’ve done bothers me.”

“why, sweetheart?”

“because you’re so good to me,” you frown. “you don’t deserve to hear that i’m upset with you for probably no reason.”

“look at me, honey.” you oblige, locking eyes with his once again shyly. “as good as i am to you and you are to me, getting angry or upset or irritated with one another is normal. it’s healthy. no relationship is free of trials, and if this is our worst problem, i’d confidently say that we are doing quite well.”

you listen to him carefully, taking in his words as you look over his face.

“now, will you tell me what it was i did to upset you earlier?”

“it’s so stupid, ken.”

“your feelings are not stupid. please. i need to know so i don’t repeat my mistakes.”

you huff and eventually give in. “well, sometimes... you do this thing… where you lecture me… and i appreciate you looking out for me all the time, but sometimes when you ask me a hundred things at once about stuff that I’m more than aware of as an adult, it makes me feel like you’re patronizing me.”

a stern look of realization crosses the blonde’s features. “i had no idea.”

“i mean… i never told you, so i was getting upset with you for something you weren’t even aware of,” you exhale. “i’m really sorry, kento. I struggle with communicating certain things, and i shouldn’t have allowed myself to get so irritated in the first place.”

“there’s no need for you to apologize,” he dismisses. “i apologize for making you feel as though I’ve been speaking down to you. i only check in so often because i care.”

“i know,” you lean in. “and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“but i can see how it may be a bit overbearing,” he admits. “i’ll try to mind myself in the future.”

“oh, it’s okay, ken,” you lift your hand to his cheek, smoothing a thumb over his cheekbone. “you’re perfect, baby. i’m sorry if i made you feel otherwise.”

“i am far from perfection, my love,” he kisses your inner palm. “i make plenty of mistakes.”

“so do i, clearly,” you chuckle.

he smiles again, and this time it reaches his warm eyes. “yes, but the way i see it, you would not be perfect without them.”

choso kamo:

choso, bless his heart, has never found anything you do to be even remotely close to what he could find annoying. everything you do in his eyes is perfect, flawless, and he clings to you so much that he finds it impossible to think of your actions or words as something that poses as an aggravation to him.

what he finds irritating is when yuji will borrow his shirts without asking and fail to return them for days, or when he’s been assigned on a mission and it lasts far longer than he intended to be there, the task cutting into time he could be spending with you, or even when other people serve as a nuisance to you. you have never, ever been on the list of things that get on his nerves, and he doesn’t think you ever will be.

that’s why he feels such guilt when he starts to feel that familiar sense of annoyance bubbling in his chest when you keep asking him to let you know about his plans for the weekend.

you’ve asked him numerous times at this point, and he has given you the same answer: he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing with his brother or when he’ll be home, and that he’d let you know as soon as he figures it out. but you know that by the time he ‘figures it out’ it will be past the time you need to plan around his absence.

you’re an organized person, and you like to know in advance what is happening in your boyfriend’s life so that you can either prepare to spend some time with him or not waste the effort looking forward to doing so if he will be out late. this is especially a big deal to you because choso tends to get carried away when spending time with his little brother. the brunette loves his family so dearly, and you have always admired how fiercely he cares for those close to him, but his tendency to just go along with whatever yuji’s hyper mind thinks of on the spot without having the sense to think of how it will impact his brother’s girlfriend yet always gets to you.

you want choso to spend time with his brother, you do, but you just wish that he would have the decency of letting you in on what he plans to do on the days they are together more often.

therefore, it is friday and you continue to ask him to let you know what the plans are, and choso, still not completely understanding of what you want, is growing tired of the nagging.

“i already told you, love,” he reasons as best as he can with you, his voice dipping lower. “i don’t know how long we’ll be out. i promise you i’ll let you know.”

you’re moving about the kitchen while choso stands at the corner, eyes heavy as he watches you. he’s trying his hardest to mask his growing agitation, for he knows that you are very keen on picking up on his tells that reveal his emotions. when he’s aggravated, his brows angle ever so slightly and his lids weigh over bored vision, his lips curled in a frown.

you haven’t looked at him yet. your back is to him as your rummage through your fridge. “yeah, cho, you said that already, and you say that every time you go out,” you close the fridge door, carton of eggs in your hand for you to prepare lunch.

“and i always come back,” he says, shrugging slightly. “I don’t understand what the problem is… i’d never stay out all night without coming back.”

“it’s not about you coming back or not, it’s about when you come back,” you try to explain, placing the eggs on the counter to turn and reaching to grab a bowl. “i’ve definitely talked about this before, right? sometimes i stay up for you or want to hang out with you when you get back, but you never give me an estimated time when you’re with your brother so i can plan around it.”

choso exhales through his nose slowly, looking down. “the point is that if i knew, i’d tell you…”

you look up, catching the dipped pitch in his tone, and tilt your head to the side upon taking in his stature. he’s pouting.

you stop what your doing, pressing your hands to the ledge of the other side of the counter and leaning over with a suspicious look.

“are you alright?” you ask slowly.

choso meets your eye, a hint of a deer in in headlights look capturing him. “yes,” he says stiffly, quickly, and you are not convinced whatsoever.

“you sure? because your face says otherwise,” you nod toward him.

conflict is pretty foreign to the two of you within your relationship. neither of you ever want to upset the other, so in tiptoeing around certain issues, a lot of them are either brushed over and pent up. choso specifically things it’s damn near a sin to be upset with you, and you him, for he still does not understand certain inner workings of human connections.

he does not want to ruin what he has with you, and he does not comprehend why he is growing annoyed with someone he cherishes so much. he still loves you, but he can’t help this feeling. it burdens him with guilt, and he does not know how to respond once you catch him.

“is something bothering you?” you ask carefully. “are you upset because i keep asking about this weekend?”

choso doesn’t respond. he feels like it’s a trap, for he would never lie to you but to admit that he’s annoyed is an entirely different ball park that he is horrified to step into. he looks at you shamefully, face still tense but he’s trying hard to relax, to mask the way he truly feels.

you raise a brow. “…choso?”

“i’m fine,” he tells you. once again, he’s answering far too quickly.

“okay,” you exhale, shifting on your feet. choso watches you anxiously, keeping incredibly still as though moving will make the earth shatter. “I know you really well, cho. clearly the conversation is bothering you.” after another moment of silence from your boyfriend, you continue. “you can be honest with me, or else you’ll just be carrying this around with you all day.”

“…i don’t wanna upset you,” he eventually murmurs.

“I understand, but that’s not realistic,” you say with subtle sternness in your tone. “just like it’s not realistic to pretend like you aren’t upset right now when i can clearly tell you are. we both have rights to feeling whatever we feel, so just… come on, tell me what’s going on.”

with a pensive expression, choso slowly allows himself to give in. “it’s just that…” he begins hesitantly. “i’m not really sure what you want me to tell you anymore. about my plans.”

“i'm not asking anything out of the question, i just want you to plan more for my sake.”

“but i keep repeating myself when i tell you that yuji and i don’t plan… it’s a little…”

“it’s a little what?”

“just… kind of… annoying.”

you reel, staring at choso incredulously. you never thought you would have seen the day where your sweet significant other, horrified of touching you the wrong way, would call you annoying. admittedly, you’re a little wounded. you haven’t done anything wrong, and yet choso is aggravated by your desire to simply know what time he’s coming home. you’re not asking for too much. you hardly believe you’re asking for anything at all. you know that choso can be irrational, but never with you. never like this.

you nod to yourself slowly, pursing your lips. choso eyes you carefully, uncertain of how his own words have landed. you wanted him to be honest, and this is how he’s feeling. should he have just lied? should he have kept it to himself anyway?

suddenly, you resume what you are doing and turn away from choso wordlessly. the violet eyed man’s eyes widen as you go searching for a pan, and air of intensity about you.

“(y/n)?” he says your name cautiously after a while of you shuffling about. “you okay?”

“it’s cool,” you respond shortly, and choso shrinks.

he moves to round the counter to approach you slowly, but you do not slow yourself when you notice him moving into the kitchen beside you. “i don’t think it is…”

“choso, i know how you feel now and that’s that. i’ll leave it be.”

you sound mad. choso doesn’t like it at all, and he’s unsure of how to even speak to you this way. he doesn’t want to further ruin your mood, but he has to make sure you’re alright… that he didn’t cross some sort of line.

“i’m sorry,” he hastily apologizes. “I wasn’t trying to make things worse.”

“don’t apologize for what you feel,” you strictly say, moving to the other side of the kitchen the second choso gets close to you.

he stops, his traces of annoyance having completely washed away. “but you’re mad now.”

“i’m not mad, i just- i’m a little annoyed too now.”

he deflates. “oh,” he mumbles, hands falling to his sides. “then, what do what do now?”

you exhale, taking a moment to pause and turn to face choso from the other side of the space. “i wanna talk about why i’m irritated.”

“okay… and that won’t make it worse?”

“no, because i’ll at least be getting my point across.”

he nods dejectedly. “alright. why are you upset?”

“because you won’t take a second to put yourself in my shoes and understand that planning for my sake now that we live together will help ease my anxiety,” you explain, your hand moving about as you emphasize your stance. “i don’t care how long you and yuji are out. that’s not the point, and i know you don’t plan, but I’m asking you to at least start to, because i get tired of falling asleep waiting for you because i don’t know when you’re coming home. if i knew in advance, i wouldn’t have to stay up or get my hopes up about you coming back at a certain time. and then you tell me that i’m annoying you because i just want to be informed. like, that’s a little rude, choso. it’s basically like you saying you don’t care what i ask for.”

“i do care,” he cuts in passionately, brows knitted with a look of guilted sadness. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know it was like that for you.”

“because you never bothered to ask.”

“i’m sorry,” he says again. “i shouldn’t have called you annoying. that was mean. you just… told me to be honest, so i said what i was thinking.”

“that’s another thing, choso, we’re not perfect. we’re people and we react to things differently. this isn’t the last time we’ll be annoyed with each other.”

“i don’t like that,” he grumbles.

“we don’t have to like it, but that’s just how things are. it doesn’t mean we love each other any less, and we’re not always going to agree on why we’re annoyed with one another.”

“…are we fighting?”

you scoff a slight, tired laugh and shake your head. “no, we’re not fighting. we’re just talking.”

“okay,” he nods. “well, i’m sorry. i am. i’ll try to do better about planning for you. and you’re not annoying, (y/n). i love you.”

you soften. “i love you too, cho, just please be more mindful of how you react sometimes.”

“i will,” he mumbles. “…can i… i mean, is it wrong to ask you for a hug or do you need some time?”

“come over here,” you beckon him over. the brunette is quick to comply, stepping heavily over to you and burying his face in your neck. you wrap your arms around his frame as he holds you, murmuring numerous apologies to you over and over in your ear.

“maybe i’ll just stay home,” he suggests, mumbling into your skin.

“you don’t need to do that, cho, that’s not what i was asking of you.”

“i know, but i’d rather stay in with you anyway. or maybe we can make it a group thing if you want to come with.”

“i’ll see how i feel this weekend, but that’s sounds great, baby. thank you.”

toji fushiguro:

toji has a habit of getting caught up in his stress accumulated from the day. he’ll return home grumpily, muscles twitching and lips tight in a scowl. his back aches and his head hurts, and all he wants to do is crawl up into bed with you and snooze for the rest of the night.

of course, this isn’t always plausible. life presents its daily interferences that throw off his plans of laziness with the woman he loves, and sometimes, the woman he loves herself is the very thing standing in the way of his tranquility.

you don’t do so on purpose. while toji leads his life of chaos and crime, you busy yourself with your own less illegal tasks, and those tasks and your desires by the end of the day don’t always match his. and toji, despite how wholly he loves you, has the unintentional tendency to be selfish, for it’s how he’s lived his whole life before meeting you.

and that tendency especially shines through when his mind is clouded by exhaustion. if he wants you to lay still with him for the rest of the night, why can’t he? why the hell do you have to run out to the store instead? or finish up an assignment that takes an extra hour and a half to complete? or try to talk to him about your day when he just wants peace and quiet in your wordless physical presence?

it ticks him off, and he’s already moody enough before he comes home to realize that he is not going to get what his mind and heart have been set on for hours. he tries his best not to take things out on you when he is in a healthy, normal conscious state, but he can not help it at the worst of times. before he knows it, he’s snapping at you all because you wanted to show him an album of pictures you came across during your visit to your parents today.

“oh!” you gasp excitedly, leaning into toji’s shoulder as you lounge with him on the bed, your phone presenting itself to his face. you’re propped up with your back to the headboard while toji is laid flat against the pillow with a sour expression. “and this one is from halloween when i was eleven! holy shit, look at my braces! damn, they really threw off the whole costume. i still look cute though, don't i?"

toji doesn't know how you haven't noticed his lack of response as you swipe through photo after photo, your voice a blabber of nonsense in his ear as he closes his eyes in vexation. he can feel himself nearing his last straw as you shift your entire conversation enthusiastically, diving into some story about your family that is hardly related to the pictures you have been sharing.

the dark-haired man is so tired, so fed up with noise and the questions you ask him that you do not even wait for him to respond to before you're cutting in and rambling on again - not that toji even would have responded.

he just wants to sleep... you're still going on, and he wants to sleep.

"and then there was the time that i-"

you're interrupted by a loud groan and the run of toji's large hands down his face. you falter, lowering your phone and furrowing your brows at him slightly, your smile dwindling upon finally taking note of toji's body language.

silence stills the room while toji keeps his hands concealing his face and you simply watch him, stunned.

"uh..." you start pensively, confused. "...why did you just-"

"for the love of christ, girl, can you be quiet for one second?" he interjects once more with the tear of his hands away from his face and the strike of his weary, tense eyes into yours.

you jump. "what?" is all you can ask, awed by the way your boyfriend just spoke to you.

"i had a long day, (y/n). the fuck don't you understand about that?"

your face is scrunching in offense now, your body retracting and your energy transitioning into dejected anger. "toji, why the hell are you talking to me like that?"

"cause you've been workin' my last nerve since i got home," he grits out, tense hands swiping the air. you stare at him with wide eyes. "i'm fuckin' tired. i don't wanna come home to you talkin' my ear off about shit i don't care about. just let me sleep, alright?"

you clamp your mouth shut, a lump forming in your throat and a pit swirling in your chest as you take in toji's hurtful words. his face is hard as he awaits a response from you, and you can do nothing but look at him pathetically, completely torn apart by how swiftly he had made you feel as though you are a burden to him.

you had not meant to interfere with his rest time. you thought he was resting by sitting cozily in bed with you. you thought that he would enjoy seeing pictures of you from the past, hearing about old memories that you revive for the sake of his enjoyment. hell, you would have enjoyed it if the roles were reversed and toji was sharing his childhood memories with you after a long day (if of course, his childhood had been a bit more positive).

you understand that you may have misread the situation, but there was no need for toji to be so cruel to you about it. you hate when he gets like this, so rigid and ruthless with his tone and his words that it makes you feel as though he wants nothing to do with you.

you fight the urge to cry, your body tensing as you swallow hard. you tear your eyes from toji's face, the vision alone scarring you as his words seep in. the green-eyed man watches you shut off your phone swiftly and tuck it carelessly into your pocket with a scoff.

he quirks his brow in befuddlement now as you push yourself off the mattress and cooly whisk yourself around the furniture and to the bedroom door. he pushes himself up, for he didn't want you to leave. he just wanted silence.

"where're you goin'?" he asks as though you have no reason to storm off. you halt in the doorway, whipping your head over your shoulder to glare at him with glassy eyes.

"to give you your space," you hissed. "after all, i don't want to 'work your last nerve' any more than i already have."

toji can tell by the glossiness of your gaze and the tremble of your voice that he fucked up. he sighs heavily, swiping a hand over his hair. "i ain't mean it like that-" he tries to defend himself, but you have none of it.

"sure you did, toji. or else you wouldn't have said it," you growl. "it's fine. really. you can be an asshole all by yourself while i'm gone. maybe you'll be able to sleep now that your girlfriend is out of the way."

you leave with a slam to the door, the walls shaking in your wake, and toji stares at the wall harshly. the overwhelming silence now envelopes him, the silence that he had been longing for since you started talking, and now that he has it, it doesn't feel right.

he curses to himself, scratching the back of his head. he shouldn't have snapped at you. all you had been doing was sharing something close to your heart with him, and he completely blew you off. it wasn't as though you were the source of his stress - it was his job, yet he reacted in such a way to make it feel as though you were the problem.

fuck. toji knows he has issues with regulating his anger, but he continues to swear that he will work on leaving you out of it, and yet here he is again, mulling over the after-effects of dragging you into his acidity once more.

he's not even tired anymore. he tries to doze off, but all he can think about is your face and how he hurt you.

when he steps out of his room, he finds that you are nowhere to be found in his apartment. he tries calling you, but you don't pick up. he resorts to texting you, asking where you are. you read the messages, but refuse to answer, ensuring that he knows you're pissed off.

he shakes his head and goes to check your location instead, which he is grateful to find that you haven't shut off. he knows you too well. you want him to chase after you and apologize, to put forth the effort that you at times feel he would not extend for your sake.

toji finds you at a bar around the corner, your chin propped in your hand as you stare ahead over the counter emptily with an untouched drink before you. you're slumped in your seat with your phone tucked under your hand, appearing so sad before him, and toji feels his heart ache knowing that he's the reason you look like this.

"go away," you grumble when you see his bulky figure approaching you out of the corner of your eye, not even bothering to look his way. the fushiguro leans his forearm against the counter beside you with his other hand propped on his hip. he tilts his head down to try to catch a glimpse of your face, and you simply turn away stubbornly.

"c'mon doll," he attempts to coax. "don't be mad."

"don't fucking tell me not to be mad, you dick."

toji drops his head. bad start. "listen," he begins, unsure of how to proceed. he has never been good with finding words in these situations. "i shouldn't've said what i said."

you turn to scour at him. "no shit."

he wants to chuckle at how angry you are, for you start cursing up a storm the way toji does on a daily basis, and he finds it rather endearing how quick you are to violate him with your language when he gets on your bad side.

toji doesn't realize that the skin beneath his eyes is creasing a the corner of his lip is tugging upward, for you're gaping at him and smacking his chest rather aggressively. "you think this is funny?"

"no, (y/n), i don't think it's funny," he chuckles, and you fume. you go to slam a few bills onto the table before jumping up from your stool and storming away. toji panics, reaching out and snatching up your arm in his grasp. you're tugged back to him against your wishes, fiery (e/c) hues seething into him as though you seek to kill him with your gaze. "stop, i'm tryna talk to you for a second."

"clearly you think my feelings are a joke to you, toji."

"i don't think that, doll, you know that."

"do i?" you raise your brows. "i wasn't so sure when you talked to me like i was nothing but a nuisance to you."

you go to tug away, but toji holds you to him, looking into your eye intensely. "you ain't a nuisance."

"then why talk to me like that?" you frown. "i wasn't even doing anything to hurt you, i was just trying to share something with you."

"i know baby," he softens, hand coming to cup over your neck. you turn away, leading him to smooth his hand over the back of your head instead as you look off to the side bitterly. "it wasn't you, it was my day-"

"i don't care," you huff. "you can't blame the way you treat people on shitty days - especially the way you treat me! i'm the person in this world who loves you, toji. if you need me to reel in on something, then just say that respectfully, but don't you dare go yelling at me the way you just did. it hurts my feelings."

toji sighs, looking over your face and caressing your hair. "i know, doll, m'sorry," he mumbles. "shouldn't be taking my shit out on you. you ain't ever done a single thing bad to me."

"yeah, you prick," you bite, and toji lets himself smile. "and stop smiling," you push against his chest. "nothing's fucking funny."

"you're right. nothin's funny at all," he agrees. "m'just happy i got a girl who knows how to fight back when i'm bein' an asshole."

"oh, what the fuck ever," you roll your eyes. "you're lucky i don't chop your balls off and hang them on display in the living room."

"nah, i much prefer you gettin' mean with me." he moves to cup your neck again, and this time you allow him, a pretty pout still on your face. "i deserve it."

"you sure as hell do..."

he chuckles, smirk spreading. "c'mere, doll," he pulls you into him, securing his arms around your frame and pressing you to his chest. you ease into him reluctantly, glowering off to the side as your check squishes into his pectoral. you don't hug back, for toji's biceps crush over you and trap your arms within his embrace as he rocks you slowly. "what can i do to make up for it?"

"go jump off a bridge," you mutter, body relaxing into his warmth as his chest rumbles with laughter against you.

ryomen sukuna:

sukuna belittling you with his words has never been anything new to you. while you understand that you withhold a space of softness in his heart that is reserved for you and you only, at times his comfortability with insulting you can go a bit far.

and of course, you’re used to it. he calls you “brat” and “woman” as though you are a nuisance to him when in reality, you are the only person on this planet he has bestowed those names upon with his own definition of affection. he clicks his teeth and rolls his eyes at you when you talk about something that he wants you to believe is of little interest to him, when he is taking mental note of the things you enjoy talking about so that he can suffocate you with your desires long after you have presented a specific like to his attention. and of course, he tells you you are an aggravation to his soul every damn two seconds, as though loving you brings him stress after eons of having lived so freely and ruthlessly - though he still does, your presence does more to ease him into a state of mellowness than anything has prior to his commitment to you.

he very clearly welcomes the feeling and connection to you, but masks so by calling you annoying. all the time. so of course, when he does normally, you are completely desensitized to it.

unless you’re already irritated.

occasionally, there is only so much of sukuna you can handle. you love him to death, but the two of you butt heads so often due to your stubborn natures and unwillingness to allow the other to win that it tends to wear you down after a while. sukuna calls you disrespectful for even talking back, yet allows you to continue to do so as if he gets off on the way you get snippy with him.

it’s entertaining to the lord, after all. why would he spend his time doting on someone boring?

nevertheless, if you’ve had a long day and are in no mood to deal with sukuna’s rather wide range of complex reactions to even the smallest of things that you do, his habits tick you off - especially so when he calls you annoying for something that you feel is anything but.

so as you complain to sukuna about how he needs to be mindful of how many sheets he’s running through by staining them with blood when he carelessly returns to your shared bedroom from yet another colorful expedition, you're peeved by the way he stares at you so carelessly. you’ve been begging him forever to be more mindful of how he treats his belongings, especially now that you share the same things, but he always brushes your concerns aside by saying that he can just get more. but god forbid someone else were to stain his sheets, then he’d be out for blood.

his arms are crossed as he stands before you, eyes rolling over the ceiling as he makes his agitation rather evident. you’re a little thing in comparison to him, yammering on about the tenth set of sheets he has stained this month, but he wants to hear none of it. why is it such a big deal to you anyway? he has thousands of servants and limitless access to resources, so it shouldn’t matter to you whatsoever. besides, you’ve stained numerous sheets of his over the years with your arousal and he’s never complained. why does it all of a sudden hold importance to you what state his belongings are in now?

“would you quit your moaning, woman?” he snarls, overpowering voice speaking over you. his eyes are hard and slim as they stare over you, and you’re bubbling with rage the moment he cuts into what you’re saying. “it is not of relevance to me, so why is it of any relevance to you?”

“because it is, sukuna! why do you only hold value to the things you care about? we share a bed, obviously i’m affected by this too!” you argue.

“you are not a servant. servants concern themselves over such things.”

“oh, so now i’m beneath you for talking about this?”

sukuna groans. “i did not say that, brat.”

“yeah, but you insinuated it!” you retort. “i’m tired, sukuna, i wasn’t trying to make this a big thing.”

“yet you are attempting to by persisting so irritatingly.”

you throw your hands up, at your wit’s end. why does he never listen to you when there is something on your mind? why does he always push aside what you feel matters when he decides it doesn’t matter to him? why is he always so cold with you, so steely and headstrong as though he remains above you like you haven’t been by his side all this time?

you know how sukuna is, and yet him calling your opinions irritating riles you up in this moment. everything has to turn into an argument, and it weighs you down. nothing can ever run smoothly without sukuna taking offense or scoffing at the idea of you coming to him with something you feel should be fixed. you can’t win.

"seriously?" you plead. "i mean, really, i'm irritating because i don't want to sleep in blood every night?"

"christ, you don't sleep in blood. the sheets are changed before you come to rest!" he barks. "that is why i find this so annoying. you are complaining for nothing."

"you know what? you're annoying!" you point a finger to his broad chest. the king of curses lifts a brow, looking down at where your finger prods into him.

"i beg your pardon?" an amused, low chuckle ripples through him as though the sentiment is unheard of, which only pisses you off even more.

"you heard me. you're the fucking annoying one. you're always going on about how i shouldn't talk back, or how everything i feel doesn't make sense, or how the things i want don't matter because you don't want them! you act like you're so far above me, when i'm the only one sleeping in bed with you, sitting on your throne, supporting your psycho-ass ambitions - but i'm the irritating one, right? your girlfriend is such a pain in the ass, isn't she? for caring about your wellbeing and loving you when nobody else will?"

the salmon-haired king's eyes go dull as you shout at him, fury raging in your eyes as you continue to poke at him. you're playing with fire, but you don't care. you're fed up with the pretending, with the sly comments about your intelligence as a human being and the value of your interests.

"woman-"

"shut up! i'm not done."

oh. you've really lost it now, haven't you?

normally, sukuna would have made it a point to silence you and teach you a lesson by now, but for some reason, he's feeling generous. slightly intrigued by your outburst, he lets you go on with a domineering smirk.

"i don't care of you're the king of curses, or if you could kill me with the snap of your fingers, or if you've got thousands of people who bow down to you without a second thought like mindless sheep-"

"you are not those people."

"exactly!" you agree without thinking, and sukuna's smirk brightens. "i'm not! so stop- stop treating me like i am! stop talking to me like i'm unimportant and like i get on your nerves more than i do anything good for you! stop blowing me off because you don't know how to empathize! i'm your girlfriend. i care about you, and i also care about the state of your things which you always make a point to say are mine too- and fucking sue me if i'm tired of walking into your room after a long day to see blood stains from random ass civilians while your servants work to replace them in the next hour! what if i wanna lay down before then, huh? ever thought about that?

"god, i just wish you'd care! is that so hard for you to do, sukuna? to care about me and what i care about? i didn't wanna argue with you, but you make it so damn hard for me not to lose my mind! you never hear me talk about how much you drive me crazy, and you drive me crazy every damn day of the week!"

"is that so?" he pries, slyly.

"yes!"

"i implore you, tell me more about how i drive you crazy."

"have you not been listening to anything i've-?!" you freeze, reconnecting with the moment to look in sukuna's eye and see how he is enjoying listening to your rant. you stop, stepping back and lifting your finger from his chest. you breathe in and out deeply, worked up by your own emotion, and you finally take a second to realize what you have been doing. "you're mocking me," you conclude.

"i am doing no such thing."

you scoff. "whatever, sukuna. just forget it. sorry i'm so irritating to you."

you go to walk off, but sukuna is already wrapping a set of arms around you, tugging you back to his chest. you grit your teeth, peering up over your shoulder to look back and find the demon grinning down at you teasingly.

"you need to relax," he muses.

"don't fucking tell me to relax, sukuna, i'm already pissed off."

"mm. i can see that, and in feeling so you have forgotten who you are speaking to."

"see, this is what i'm talking about! i'm not your servant-"

"yes, yes, i know. it was hard not to catch what you were saying during your little tantrum."

"fuck you," you groan, moving to push away. sukuna tightens his grip, winding his arms securely over your stomach and pressing you to his chest. "sukuna," you whine.

"stop taking everything so personally," he ducks down to speak into your ear over your left shoulder. you jerk, turning your head in the direction of his voice. "you are fully aware that you are not the same as everybody else. if you were, you would not be so mouthy."

"yeah, well it's hard to tell what you think sometimes when you call me annoying all the damn time. if you want me to leave you alone, just say that and i can stop wasting my time."

"enoughhh," he hisses. "you must stop taking things so far."

"and you must stop being so mean," you mimic his speech.

sukuna snorts. "do not worry about the sheets. i will retreat elsewhere after massacres if it while cease your whining."

"oh, how lucky i am," you click your teeth.

"quite so," he turns in to press his lips to the space under your jaw. "if you were anyone else-"

"i'd be dead," you finish, involuntarily leaning into him though your face is still tense. "no one else should be in your bed anyway, you know."

"that is why no one ever will."

[dollgxtz]

Ok a fic where reader and sylus are at a business meeting, she “offers” herself as payment (maybe as a joke or just to rile sylus idk) and he makes sure to remind her who she belongs to? Please???

Kindred Spirits

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, possessiveness, ownership, spanking, hitting, slight blood mention, pet names like kitten & sweetie, creampie, rough sex, crying, slight fluff at the end :3

AN: Anon ur a literal genius. This has Sylus written all over it. Im so happy to be back posting another story for you all! Also happy to announce my masterlist is now complete and can be found in my pinned! Ty all! Enjoy and remember, my asks are open for any character, Sylus is just my husband LOL. Remember to read my pinned before requesting please! This is a bit tamer than my other stories but trust I am cooking up some deviant content as soon as I publish this one :33

“Finally…”

You nearly collapse near your front door. A whole week of your life. Gone. To what you ask? Dealing with wanderers on a special aid mission. Sure sure, the job paid well but it had been weeks since your last off day. Every time it seemed like one was around the corner here they go with some emergency call and a spill about how some rich politician needed help or something.

You were starting to get tired of cleaning up other people’s mistakes.

You fumbled with your keys, fingers numb from the biting cold. The wind whipped around you, making you shiver as you tried to fit the right key into the lock. Your breath came out in visible puffs, and you could feel the frustration building with each failed attempt. Finally, with a relieved sigh, you heard the click of the lock turning.

The still warm air is such a welcoming contrast to the wind and biting cold outside. You quickly shut your door and melt to the floor, your feet aching with relief as the pressure you had been putting on them subsided. Peace at last. Time for a hot shower an-

Your peace was cut short with the distinct tone of your phone ringing. And not just any ring tone. The one you had set specifically for a certain white haired man that only ever brought trouble. Wondering if you should even pick up, you bring the phone to your face, knowing that you were going to answer regardless.

“Sylus…I’m really tired. Can we talk lat-"

“Long time no see kitten. You should stop by for a bit, hm?”

You roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to scoff out loud. Arrogant prick, you think, irritated by his inability to let you finish a sentence without interrupting. How did he even know you were home now?

You sigh deeply, feeling the tension building, and rub your temples to alleviate the mounting frustration. No, you tell yourself firmly. You wouldn’t put up with this today. Maybe another day, but definitely not today.

"Actually, no. I just returned from a week-long aid mission. Not today," you say firmly, aiming to be clear and resolute in your decision to stay put. Sylus however, seems to sense the cracks in your resolve and only responds with a chuckle.

“I want to see you. I’ll have Luke and Kieran come get you since you’re so tired”.

“Hu-”

“See you soon. They’re en route. Ciao”

The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call. For whatever reason, your ever growing frustration simply dissipates, defeat taking its place. You should be used to this by now. Sylus always gets what he wants. And you always let him. It goes without saying that it’s the same way for you as well. At least, Sylus always gives you what you want if it doesn’t interfere with his need to lay his eyes on you at least once in awhile. He knew that you wouldn’t push this though. You both knew.

Deep down, you wanted to see him too.

You asked Luke and Kieran to wait outside for a bit while you took a brisk shower and freshened up. Those two had always been very patient and understanding. You felt bad “bossing” them around, and yet they always insisted that you could. Though Luke had admitted on one occasion that he never expected to be helping a girl find hair ties or carrying shopping bags while working for Onychinus.

The statement had made you laugh a bit. You finally finish dressing in some plain sweats and rush to the car. Luke and Kieran are waiting outside of a dark colored jeep. Not too flashy as to not draw attention, but it was still clearly very expensive.

“Actually miss, Boss wanted you to wear these” Luke says, holding out an expensive looking dress. Clearly designed by hand and tailored to your measurements. Kieran follows his lead, holding out a box containing a pair of earrings and a lavish looking necklace.

“Huh? What’s this for? A date?”

“Business. That’s all he said” Kieran chimed in. Although you couldn’t see their faces, you knew they had no reason to lie to you about this.

“Ah. Dragging me into more trouble. Got it”.

When the three of you finally arrived to the location, the sun had already set for the day. You darted your eyes back and forth, squinting above at the bright neon sign of the establishment.

“We’re not going to the N109 Zone? This is a nightclub…” you mutter, taken aback by the unfamiliar surroundings. When did this even get here? There were plenty of clubs in Linkon of course, but you never seemed to notice this one. Not that you knew much about the night life to begin with. People were lined up at the entrance, chatting, fixing makeup, or texting.

“Boss wants you here. He’s waiting inside. Enjoy your time miss” Luke said, amusement written all over his tone. He gets out of the passenger seat to open the door and lend you a hand. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to appear shaken up by the situation. Sylus was always full of surprises. This was no different, act confident.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. After getting almost immediate entrance into the club with just a simple nod from the guard, you enter. As you walk inside the club, Luke and Kieran not far behind you, you can tell this was no ordinary night club. Everyone here was dressed lavishly and sharp, clearly possessing power and ulterior motives. A few eyes lay on you as you walk in, and you feel your hands start to sweat.

Keep cool. This isn’t the first time you’ve been around high ranking individuals. This is probably some test he set up…right? Or some kind of joke to get a laugh?

Clenching your fists, your eyes dart and search for a tall figure with white hair, feeling more nervous by the second that you don’t see him. You’re about to turn around and ask one of the twins, but at last your gaze settles on him, sipping on a glass of Gin Fizz. He’s sitting in a velvety booth by himself, people watching. He’s wearing his black button up with red streaks across it, coat hanging on his shoulders per usual. As if he felt you staring, his eyes shift to meet yours. He sets down his glass, giving you you a small smirk. His eyes narrow, sending a very clear message.

Come here.

As if you were suddenly possessed, your feet seem to start moving on their own. You weren’t sure if you were relieved to see him or if it was just the relief of seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. You take a few deep breaths as you approach, readying your witful replies to any of his attempts to make fun of you. Without making any sound or looking at him, you quietly slide in next to him.

“You look nice. Seems I was right about this look on you” Sylus says, taking another sip of his drink. His eyes wander up and down behind the glass, seemingly devouring you. You squirm under his gaze.

“Hm. Thanks. This gift is the least you can do after dragging me to do whatever you want on a whim once again” you scoff, eyeing the full glass that sits on the table. It’s another glass of Gin Fizz, probably for Sylus. There’s three other very empty glasses on the table.

This man can definitely hold his alcohol.

He chuckles, taking a finger and pushing the glass of Gin closer to you.

“Don’t be like that sweetie. Loosen up a bit, you’ll need it”

“For what exactly? Business?” you mock, picking up the Gin. You didn’t exactly like the taste of this particular alcohol of choice but Sylus was right about one thing. Some liquid courage was definitely needed for whatever shenanigans he was dragging you into tonight.

“Yeah. Figured I could use Linkon’s darling Miss Hunter as backup” Sylus chuckles, watching you nearly choke as you take three big gulps of the drink. You squeeze your eyes in disgust as you finish the rest of the glass, shooting a death glare in his direction as you set it down.

“You’re perfectly capable. Don’t mock me Sylus”. You grit your teeth in irritation, almost ready to rip him to shreds with your words. Clearly your tone has no effect on him though, as all you get in return is a soft smile. Sylus places a hand on your upper leg, slowing sliding his fingers under your dress. You gasp, the coldness of his fingers making you twitch a bit. The warmness of your skin mixed with his cold touch makes the sensation feel like icy fire.

“Or what? You’ll use this on me?” he smirks, tugging on the concealed gun strapped under your dress. “I’m all for it honestly”

You slap his hand away, the woozy feeling from the Gin Fizz starting to kick in. What was in this drink? It was strong. Too strong.

“Pervert. Always touching me, making fun of me. Maybe I will shoot you. Again.” you growl, turning your head away from him. You attempt to scoot away as well, but are met with a strong grip around your waist as you’re pulled into closer proximity with him. Sylus grabs your chin and lifts it towards his face. He leans down a bit, the smell of alcohol and his bourbon vanilla cologne making you feel even more dizzy.

“You can put your claws away now kitten. Don’t make me have to melt your little tantrum away” he coos, gently caressing your face with his thumb.

You stare at him, dumbfounded, desperately searching your sluggish brain for a comeback but finding yourself too flustered to form any words. The look in Sylus’s eyes shifts from a smug expression to a much softer, almost tender gaze, and you wonder what his next move will be. Your face starts to burn as you feel heat rising in your core, your heart pounding in your chest. Panic sets in as you consider the possibilities, your mind racing with the fear of what might come next.

Don’t tell me he’s going to…?!

"You're so...confusing" you mutter.

You’re just about to try and squirm from his grip, when Luke and Kieran tap on the table, catching yalls attention.

“Boss man, Val says he’s ready for ya” Luke says, nonchalantly ignoring the scene that’s displayed in front of him. Sylus releases your face, his face going serious again. He gets up, reaching out a hand to help you out of the booth.

“Time for business, sweetie”

You’re guided by the twins and Sylus past the sweaty bodies on the dance floor to a somewhat hidden room located downstairs. The area the stairs led to was blocked off by a singular rope, clearly only meant for a select crowd.

In the room there’s a long black table, cards and chips all over it. There’s a few prominent figures already seated, along with a few bodyguards standing near the door. Sylus pulls a seat out for you, before taking his own. You study the figure that’s sitting at the head of the table as you sit. He’s short, a bit chubby, dark hair, smoking a cigar. A scar sits angrily on his forehead and you wonder what kinda grudges led to such an injury. He notices you looking at him, and gives you a devilish grin. Some of his teeth are crooked or missing.

All that money and he can't fix his smile?

You shudder. Sylus looks over at you, and back to the man at the head of the table. He’s reading you, clearly sensing your nervousness. He says nothing, simply reaching a hand over to rest on your thigh.

“Was starting to think you were going to keep me waiting Sylus. Seems you didn’t run after all” he laughs, wheezing a bit as he takes another puff of his cigar. You wrinkle your nose a bit as the potent smell hits your senses.

“I couldn’t turn down a game of cards with my dear old friend” Sylus says, irritation coating the last word. “Let’s keep things civil this time, hm Valentino?”

Valentino bursts into laughter, clearly amused. Despite his laughter, you couldn’t ignore the murderous tension in the air. Something tells you this isn’t any regular game of cards. You gulp, trying to force yourself to look at everyone at the table and smile.

“Well hello little lady. Sylus, you didn’t tell me you kept such gorgeous company…” Val says, his eyes snaking all over your body. You feel Sylus squeeze your thigh, clearly irritated. He pulls out a coin from his coat pocket, seemingly trying to channel his frustrations into something else.

“You know I’m not really the type to share, Val. She’s all mine. Down to every single strand of hair”. Sylus ends, catching the coin and shooting a glare in the man’s direction. It was plain, but conveyed a message very well.

You feel your palms start to sweat. Was he being serious right now?? You side eye him, trying to piece out whether or not this was some kind of facade you’re supposed to play into. Valentino clearly takes Sylus’s words as a challenge.

“I’ll give you twenty million for her. Maybe fifty million if you make her give us a little strip show. What do ya say? She looks so soft. Probably makes cute noises too…~” he chuckles, likely enjoying the look of surprise that washes across your face.

Sylus remains quiet, his face unmoving, frozen in a pissed glare. You don’t know if it was the alcohol you drank earlier, or if it was some inkling of an attempt to dissipate the tension, but you clear your throat and begin to speak.

“Well Sylus? You can share can’t you? It’s quite the generous offer Mr. Valentino. I’m quite flattered actually.” you express, putting on your best smug look. Sylus stiffens, a somewhat shocked expression washing over him. Valentino erupts into yet another fit of laughter, seemingly unable to contain himself. Turning to look back at Sylus, you see it in his face briefly. An uncaged look of rage before it quickly dissipates.

Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.

Far too late to stop now though.

“You heard the lady Sylus. Why don’t you try sharing just this once? What I would give to taste that sweet little body of he-”

Sylus slams a revolver on the table, then calmly starts picking up cards from the deck.

"I'd suggest you stop talking and start playing the game, Mr. Valentino," Sylus snarls, his words dripping with venom. The fury in his voice is palpable, and it's clear he's reached the end of his patience.

You give Val a sly look, feigning pity. “Ah, sorry Valentino. Seems this one can’t quite let me go yet”. You don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but it’s certainly not working to dissipate any tension. Val doesn’t respond to you though, all his focus on Sylus now.

“My dear friend. You should know me by now. There’s something I’m much more interested in now than some money. Now I want the girl, or nothing”.

Valentino wears a shit eating grin on his face, soaking in the fact that he thinks he’s gained some control of the situation, unaffected by the gun on the table. Sylus simply sighs, rubbing his fingers against the temple of his forehead.

“I see where this is going then”.

You barely process what’s happening before everything and everyone starts moving. As soon as Sylus begins to stand, Valentinos guards start shooting. Sylus wastes no time flipping the large table, sending the cards and game chips flying everywhere. You yelp as he yanks you towards him using his body and the table to shield the oncoming attack of bullets. You hear Luke and Kieran joining in the frenzy, yelling obscenities as they begin shooting their own hidden weapons.

You swiftly reach for the weapon concealed beneath your dress, your fingers brushing against the cool metal as you draw it out. Turning to face Sylus, you ready yourself for his instructions, your body tense with anticipation. Instead of giving you orders, he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you with an intensity that feels like it's reaching into your very soul. The silence is heavy, charged with unspoken tension as bullets whip past the both of you, and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in response.

“I need you alive for what’s coming sweetie. Pay attention, stay close”

You blink. Twice. Unable to process his words before he yanks you both up, one hand using his evol to send the table crashing into several bodyguards. The four of you fight your way through the onslaught of people coming into the door, before eventually dashing up the stairs. People are running in all directions, seemingly caught up in the chaos of everything. You all manage to make it out the door and into the brisk cold air, the twins quickly hopping into the car to whisk you away.

“Go on, I’ll catch up soon” Sylus states, hurriedly pushing you into the car and slamming the door before you could protest. He signals Kieran to drive off, and that he does.

“He’s…going to level the building. Isn’t he?” you sigh, sighing at the fact that Sylus seemed to conveniently forget that this was in fact not the lawless land of the N109 Zone. No doubt the Hunter’s Association would have to investigate for potential wanderer activity, and that would be a lot of paperwork.

"It's fine. He owned that place anyway. He'll just build another," Luke says, his voice calm and unbothered. Just as the words leave his mouth, a deafening boom erupts behind the car, shaking the ground beneath yall. The explosion's shockwave rattles the windows, and the sky lights up with a fiery glow, cutting off Luke's next sentence mid-breath.

You groan.

The twins did drive you to the N109 this time, swiftly helping you out the car and into Sylus’s private villa. When you entered the front door, a nightgown and lacy underwear were laid neatly out for you in his room, your arrival clearly anticipated.

It wasn’t more than an hour before Sylus waltzed in the front door, eyeing your slouching figure on the couch. You sit up as soon as you see him, still somewhat annoyed.

“What took you so damn long? Also do you have to level every building you come across?” you spat, glaring at him. He says nothing though, walking straight past you and into his room.

“Huh? Sylus?? What the hell…”

Not liking the feeling of being ignored, you hurriedly chased after him. You had never really been uncomfortable barging into his room. You had done it plenty of times at this point, the first time being when he had challenged you to steal the brooch from him. No point in being shy now. He’s fumbling with something in his drawer when you reach up to tap his shoulder.

“Sylus! Don’t ignore me, I know you ca-”

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist before you can touch him. His gaze is unreadable, cold even. You start to sweat, trying to take your arm back. But he only squeezes tighter.

"I was hoping you'd leave me be so I could calm down. But of course you're as petulant as ever" he says.

"Let go! What's wrong with you!?" You attempt to remove his hand from your wrist but he doesn't budge.

“Go to the bed. Place your hands on it” he says, face unchanging.

“Huh??”

“I don’t like to repeat myself”.

You freeze for only a moment before quickly moving to the bed. You meticulously put your hands where instructed, something deep in your core telling you that it’s likely best to listen for now. However, you can’t help to look over your should to quip at Sylus. You’re slightly bent at an angle, trying your best to keep your balance.

“What’s this about? I’m not that upset that you reduced the building to rubble”

Sylus snakes his way behind you, quietly, as if thinking of what to say. He reaches out a hand, grabbing the ends of your nightgown and moving the soft fabric around in his fingers. You feel the heat rise to your face, the skin of your ass feeling a slight gush of cold air.

“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Testing me” he says coldly, fingers trailing up the back of your legs slowly. You shiver, attempting to squirm away. His evol appears around you, its tight grip making you cry out.

Oh. This was about that.

“Huh?? No, I was just playing along. Just friendly banter yknow?” you say, voice wavering. You’ve clearly pissed him off. A part of you knows it’s a slight lie. You didn’t want to admit it out loud but it was kind of amusing to see Sylus get so riled up over something. Over you especially. But you hadn’t exactly done it fully on purpose. It was the alcohol.

But you knew he wasn’t buying it, as observant as he was.

“Sure. You were just pretending to act like a stray kitten trying to find a new owner?” he smirks, his fingers beginning to trace circles over the cloth of your panties. You let out a small whine, his touch just barely grazing your already wet cunt.

“Owner? I don’t belong to you. Or anyone” you scoff, the resolve in your voice wavering with every little circle he completes on your skin. You almost whine in disappointment when he pulls away.

“And yet…” Sylus trails off, leaving you with aching curiosity before you’re met with stinging pain on your ass. You cry out, unable to move with his evol still snaked around you. “You did exactly what I told you to do just now, wear the clothes I leave out for you, and practically melt everytime I even barely touch you”.

“Sylus?! What the hell was that…?!” you exclaim, trying your hardest to process his words and the situation at hand. He doesn’t respond, proceeding to gently caress the spot where he smacked you. The stinging pain gently eases away, and you feel yourself relaxing with his touch once again. He once again trails his fingers down to your clothed pussy, rubbing slow and meticulous circles around it. You start to whine, attempting to push yourself into his fingers for more friction. He pulls his hand away, making a disapproving sigh.

“Acting like you’re in heat per usual” he chuckles, watching as you wiggle around under the grip of his evol. “This is a punishment”.

“For what? Cause I let some sick and ugly looking crime boss think he had a chance with me?”

Sylus wastes no time bringing his hand to your ass again, earning another painful whine out of you. You feel tears forming in your eyes that you can’t wipe away. He’s certainly not holding back his strength, and yet you know this isn’t even a third of the force he could use on you.

“For entertaining him” he says plainly.

Another smack.

“Another for stupidly handing over your life, body and soul for a measly twenty million”

An even harder hit, this one fueled by rage.

“And lastly…”

You nearly choke as he delivers the final blow, your ass definitely bruising by now. Sylus offers no comfort this time, instead leaning down next to your crying face, breath hot against your ear.

“For forgetting that you belong to me, just as much as I belong to you. Kindred spirits remember?”

You have no chance to respond before he’s flipping you on your back, your nightgown flying up to reveal your wet panties.

“I-im sorry, Sy” you choke, tears blurring your vision.

“Show me then, sweetie. Spread your legs. Wide” he instructs, reaching up to brush your tears away. This isn’t done lovingly, more like calculated and cold.

This is far from over.

You silently but shakingly open your legs, your ass still painfully aching from his assault. You’re surprised when he doesn’t rip your underwear in two, choosing to rather peel them off your legs slowly. You notice the hunger in his eyes as he does so, as if savoring the view of your cunt at his fingertips. A small drop of arousal pools down your ass, and Sylus scoops it up with one finger.

You watch as he puts his finger in his mouth, savoring the drop of you with swiftness. His piercing gaze never leaves yours though, and you want to suddenly run away and hide. This is beyond thrilling, but you try your best to remain as still as possible, scared that he’ll think you’re enjoying it too much and punish you accordingly.

You suddenly can’t take the tension anymore, and close your eyes. You hear the sound of Sylus removing his belt from its loops, then the loud clang as it hits the floor. You feel the bed shift as he lowers himself over you, his face stopping just inches over yours, indicated by the sudden feel and warmth of his breath. He grabs your face in his hand and squeezes your jaw. Hard.

“Look at me kitten” he commands, his tone filled with unkempt rage and anger. Your eyes fly open, terrified.

“I’m the only one that will ever taste you. Repeat it” he says. Before you can get a word out, he’s pushing the fat tip of his cock in your entrance. You cry out in agony, nowhere near ready to have been penetrated. But he doesn’t stop filling you.

“Repeat it. Or I’ll hit you again. Do you want that?”

“You’re t-the…ah!” you whine, his cock halfway inside you at this point. Your poor cunt feels like it’s being impaled, splitting pain soaring through your core.

“Try again”

You let out a whimper, trying your best to push through the pain and put thoughts into words.

“You’re the oh-only one that gets to taste me” you choke out, voice wavering and your eyes teary. Sylus gives a hard thrust, pushing the rest of his length inside you. You cry out again, feeling like you’re on the verge of passing out. Sylus seems unmoved by your outbursts though.

“And?”

You stare at him, barely able to see his face through the tears. What? What does he mean and? He didn’t say anything else did he?

“Hu-what?”

You hear him sigh with disapproval, giving you yet another hard thrust. And another. And another. You’re clinging onto his back now, nails digging into his skin as the sound of the bed creaking and your pants fill the room. Blood has probably been drawn on his back, not that he’d even notice. You can hear him grunting in your ear, clearly enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him when you tense from the pain. Although it still hurts, you can feel yourself accumulating to the shape and size of his length, and the pain lessons a bit more with each thrust. He stops once again, tilting your face in his grip.

“What did I say you forgot? Or is this kitten filled with too much cock to think straight now?” he mocks. You can hear the smile on his face despite not being able to see him clearly. Heat creeps up on your cheeks as you wrack your brain for answers.

“I-you…we’re kindred spirits?”

“Before that sweetie”

You blink the tears on your face away, your vision becoming a bit more clear. Although he’s still gazing down at you, his expression is not as angry as before. Seems he’s gotten a bit of his pent up anger out now.

“I belong to you, Sylus” you say, voice small and whiny from crying. That’s definitely what he wanted to hear, as he began to pepper kisses on your neck, on your cheek, and eventually resting on your lips. You greedily return his affection, leaning into this feverish kiss, the both of you only periodically stopping to pant for air between kisses. He stops, resting his forehead with yours, gazing into your eyes once more.

“And I belong to you. What’s mine is yours. All of it”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s thrusting again, this time with a continuous and steady pace. You cling onto him, the exchange of flowery words and rigorous thrusting already bringing you on the verge of ecstasy. Sylus already noticed long before you did though, as he brought his hand between the two of you, circling your clit further your stimulation.

“Go ahead, come undone for me” he whispers, voice strained for nearly being at his end too. Your body obeys, unraveling and writhing with pleasure as Sylus continues to pound into you. You ride your orgasm to its end, till the touching of your clit becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation.

“Sylus…!” you moan, and he stops, already at the start of his own climax. You shudder as you feel him spill into you, his seed immediately beginning to pool down your cunt and to your ass. He pulls his heavy cock out of you, a feeling of emptiness taking its place. For a moment nothing is said, just the sound of the both of you catching your breath.

You decide to break the silence.

“Sylus…I’m really sorry” you start, looking up at him. He simply chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek before getting up to grab a rag from the bathroom.

“You’ve taken your punishment quite well, why are you apologizing again sweetie?” he says from the bathroom, coming back to wipe you clean. You scoff, slightly tensing from the coldness of the cloth.

“Hmph. Fine, I take it back then. I’m holding a grudge anyways for how hard you hit me”

He simply sighs as he finishes wiping you up. “Back with the infamous wit already? Can’t a man catch a break?”

You sit up, feeling emboldened once more.

“Nope. Maybe don’t hit me with the strength of a thousand suns next time and we’ll see”

Sylus tosses the rag in a laundry basket, making his way back to your side. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you in his warmth. You can’t help but smile against his chest.

“Well, good thing I have all night to make it up to you”

You lightly pinch his side, giggling into his embrace. A question crosses your mind.

"Did you mean it Sylus? We belong to each other?"

Sylus took your face in his hand, giving you a slight smile.

"I don't say stuff I don't mean. You know this"

That's the furthest he was willing to explain it. At least for now. Who knows what kind of power trip would ensue if you truly knew how much you had the big bad leader of Onychinus wrapped around your finger.

[ms-demeanor]

You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

[martiniluvr]

I just read your NSFW alphabet and hear me out. Jason fucking reader in the batmobile, let the man play out his fantasy

may your harvest be bountiful anon. I was praying someone would ask for this muahaha 😈 you can find the prompt from the nsfw alphabet here ❣️

18+ minors dni

warnings: semi-public but not really 🏎️

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

you should probably have tried to sound a little more appalled when jason todd told you he’d ‘borrowed’ the batmobile, but there was something about the way he was sitting in the driver’s seat, with his red hood mask over his face, and his arm hanging out of the window, that weakened your resolve.

all it took was a cock of his head and a coy, “you gettin’ in, ma?” for your scowl to melt into a giddy smile. that’s how you found yourself here; zig-zagging through traffic in gotham with a barely-reformed crime lord piloting the in the batmobile like it’s a ferrari. sure, piss off batman. what could go wrong?

thankfully, you don’t have time to dwell on the thought as jason’s hand inches up your thigh, slipping under the hem of your short dress. “wanna take a detour?” he asks, and you can practically hear his grin under the mask. you glance over at him with a smirk as he veers off the city’s main motorway, heading towards the old harbour.

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

jason’s large hands knead the soft flesh of your ass harshly as you grind against him on his lap, dragging you along his rock hard length and drawing out another whine from your lips. maybe it’s the knowledge that you’re in the batmobile when you definitely shouldn’t be, maybe it’s that jason is in his full red hood gear, or maybe it’s just because it’s car sex—whatever the reason, there’s a sense of urgency between you that has you both rearing to go now.

you lean back slightly to unbuckle jason’s belt, your back bumping into the steering wheel as your hands move dextrously. “shit, you in a rush, princess?” he chuckles, but you barely hear him. your lower lip is between your teeth as you work fast to free his cock from his boxers, and he hisses in pleasure as you pump him gently, smearing his precum down his shaft. he reaches between your legs to hook his finger around your panties, pulling the gusset to the side.

his green eyes widen as he feels your slick drooling out of you—fuck, you really are in a rush. you align your hips with his again, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock. in the dim light of the setting sun, he can see the way your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, and it sends heat rushing down his abdomen. you brace yourself on his shoulder with your free hand, sinking down on him gradually. you’re so wet that it only takes a moment to adjust to his size before you’re rocking against him again, and he pulls you back in for another hungry kiss, guiding your hips with his hands.

jason grins as he feels your cunt tightening around him when he brings his fingertips to your clit. “what, already, ma?” he teases, pretending his own release isn’t just moments away. “c’mon, that’s gotta be a new record.” you try to laugh, but he increases the pressure on your clit, and you arch your back as the coil in your belly tightens. shit, you realise, you’re about to cum in the fucking batmobile.

“fuck, jay, I’m so—” you begin, tangling your fingers in his hair. he cuts you off by sucking harshly at the delicate skin of your throat, and instantly you feel the coil snap. you cry out as you convulse around jason’s cock, slumping forward onto his muscular chest with a shiver. the sensation of your walls clamping down on him like a vice makes jason dig his fingers into your flesh as he pumps his own release into you, swearing raggedly as his hips buck.

the batmobile is silent apart from your heavy breaths, and the windows are conspicuously fogged up. you’re glad the harbour is deserted, or rumours might start circulating about what batman gets up to in his free time. jason runs his hands along your back tenderly, laughing to himself. “what?” you ask with a smile, picking your head up off his chest.

“that’s been on the bucket list for a while’,” he grins, and you giggle. you’re about to pull him in for another kiss when an incoming message from bruce wayne that makes your eyes widen lights up the dash. you know there’s a tracker in the car. I suggest you and your guest bring it back now. there’s a pause, and you and jason share a panicked look right as a second message comes through. in good condition.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇

pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader

genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 9k

summary: Joel, only now starting to feel the impending sense of loneliness, decides to listen to Tommy and sign up on an online streaming service called Ravish.

warnings: joel is bi in this, sex toys, paddles, nipple clamps, pillow humping, self-spanking, female/male masturbation, piv, dirty talking, possesive!joel, cum eating, oral (female receiving), size kink

additional warning: alright so there is a short moment in this where reader smacks herself with a paddle that has a heart-shaped hole and gets a heart mark on her skin, I don't use any descriptions (like calling it red or pink etc) but I'm also not oblivious enough to think everyone would get a mark when getting spanked so I wanted to let you know in case that would put you off and wouldn't want to read and that's completely fine!

a/n: this definitely ended up being longer then it needed it to be bfgbfg I want to take the anon who requested this, and the rest of you who chimed in and voted on the polls. I hope you all enjoy 💜 oh, also a special thanks to @missredherring who gave the idea of a more in-depth reason as to why Joel likes honeysuckle flowers 👀

edit!!! this has more than one part now! click here for the masterlist

Joel was lonely. 

He hadn’t really thought about it until Sarah went off to college. 

Since the day she was born, he had one thing and one thing on his mind only—to give his little girl everything that he could and make her happy. The rest didn’t concern him. He didn’t really care about dating, he didn’t have the time to think about how lonely he was. He had been on a couple of dates, all of which were initiated by Sarah as she entered her teenage years, pleading with him to go out and have a life.

But now that she was gone, studying what she always wanted to study and being happy, the emptiness began to spread like a nasty infection. Every creak and groan of the house sounded like mockery to him. He started keeping the TV open all night, most of the time falling asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night startled by sudden shouts from a randomly playing film or show. He hated it. This wasn’t how Joel imagined his golden years to be like. 

Maybe that’s why he decided to use the damn website. Ravish. He’d heard it from Tommy first —which was an uncomfortable conversation as one could imagine— and after that, he kept on hearing the name. 

Ravish 

Ravish 

Ravish 

It was like a shitty pop song, stuck between his teeth like toffee, impossible to get rid of. The name made a home in his brain, making its presence known whenever he was doing anything, no matter how mundane the task was. 

Ultimately, he gave in. What was the worst that could happen? 

Joel groans. He stares at the screen with his brows drawn tightly together, the text cursor blinking as it waits for him to type out a username. It’s been almost ten minutes. A brief thought of asking Tommy passes through his mind but he quickly pushes the thought away and leans over the keyboard. 

JMiller. That should be alright. He doesn’t need anything fancy, and J can be any name. It can be Jack, Jacob, Jonathan, John, Jeremy. There are a bunch. Besides, Miller is a pretty common last name, so if someone asks if he's JMiller, he can just deny it. Not that anyone would. Everyone would be too busy jerking off to pretty people. The last thought anyone would have would be of him. 

He quickly decides on his password and he’s immediately overwhelmed. There are too many things happening at once. His eyes widen, heart beating a bit too fast as he moves his mouse around. In the corner, there’s a little pop-up begging for his attention, and on the screen, there are multiple thumbnails of women and men. When he drags his mouse over a thumbnail it starts moving and he jumps. 

“Holy hell,” he mutters. “I’m in way over my head.” 

Joel gets up to pour himself a glass of whiskey. After that, he sits on the couch again and takes three deep breaths. The ice clicks together as he takes a swig, the amber liquid pleasantly burning as it goes down his throat. He looks around some more, looking for the profiles that pique his interest the most. 

While he scrolls, he sees one of a man with the username NicolasCageFreak, which he finds odd, but the man is pleasing to the eye with soft brown curls and natural honey highlights in between. The man has a small bullet vibrator pressed against his hard length, a cock ring at the base of it. Joel presses like and saves it for later. 

Joel has to remind himself a couple of times that the people who stream can’t actually see him. The more he scrolls the more relaxed he feels. There’s a woman with pretty green eyes he saves for later and another man with the username CammingBravo. He has his face hidden, Joel can see the red ribbon circling the back of his head as he bends over, granting the viewers a delicious sight of his ass that has a shiny buttplug. 

Liked! Added to your queue for later.

Until now Joel was fairly certain he was straight, sometimes he’d get the occasional same-sex dream but he figured everyone did at some point in their lives. He’s not so sure anymore. 

Some more scrolling and Joel starts getting restless. His cock strains against his sweatpants, aching for his rough touch. He takes a deep breath. The next live stream he sees that he likes he’ll click and that will be that. He’s starting to get worked up and, unlike NicolasCageFreak, he’s not a fan of edging himself. 

Then he sees her. A woman wearing a delicate chain vest with rhinestones that sparkle whenever she moves. His eyes flit to the username; Honeysuckle. He loves that flower, he has many memories of picking them with Tommy and sucking the sweet nectar hidden inside. He wonders if she tastes just as sweet. 

Not one to break a promise to himself, Joel clicks on the thumbnail. His eyes are instantly drawn to the live chat. There are so many people asking her to do something all at once—Jesus Christ. There are also a couple of them just chatting as if they were friends with her. He sees that everyone calls her Honey, which is fitting and a bit on the nose, he thinks. 

Noticing that he has the stream muted, Joel unmutes it, a pleasant tingle running down his spine as soon as her voice comes through the speakers of his laptop. 

“Wow, Eric47 I’m so happy you got that promotion!” 

“Don’t worry everyone, I’ve been thinking naughty thoughts all day and I’m ready to put on a show.” 

“Patience everyone.” 

“Thank you for buying a private chat, SarahBelieves! I can’t wait to be your good girl. . .” 

Joel is too focused on her tone, the smooth lilt of her voice, to hear the words she’s saying. The only thing his ears pick up on is the words private and chat. He wasn’t aware you could buy some extra time with the streamers. He loves that—

He shakes his head. Loves? Is he already planning on paying? At the thought, his cock twitches with interest, his reserve quickly crumbling to the floor. 

Joel decides to focus on the stream first. He can decide later on if he wants a private session or not. He cups himself through the soft fabric of his sweatpants, groaning as a spike of relief shoots through him. His eyes are glued to the screen. Honey’s hard nipples poke through the chains, her hands delicately kneading the tender mounds as she rises slightly by lifting herself onto her knees. She’s on a bed, wearing black panties and a matching garter. Joel’s mouth waters. The things he would do to her. . . 

His tongue pokes from between his lips, soft tendon moving with muscle memory as he thinks of eating her sweet cunt out. 

“Today my sweet bees,” she addresses them. “I was thinking of fucking myself with the biggest dildo I’ve got, how does that sound?” 

Joel’s eyes drift to the chat. Everyone seems to be cheering and asking her to show them how much she can take. There’s also a bunch of them calling her their favorite size queen. She chuckles. 

“I love all dicks, in any shape or form,” she purrs. “I’m just in the mood for a bit of pain.” 

Pain. That captures Joel’s attention. It makes him curious about all the other things she might be into. Perhaps she enjoys getting spanked, or she would enjoy the feeling of someone dragging their nails down her pretty back. He wants to know. He wants his imaginary scenarios to be as accurate as possible. 

He’s about to pull out his cock when he hears her voice again. 

“I do have one question though,” she says innocently. “Should I keep these pretty black panties on or off?” she grins into the camera, her eyes shining with mirth. “Let’s see those answers, my bees.” 

What do you want? Joel wants to ask. But this isn’t that kind of scenario so he thinks. The answers come flying in, there’s a fifty-fifty ratio. Joel’s mind blanks for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching. He wants her to keep them on. He likes the idea of her sliding them to the side and fucking herself deep, it feels more animalistic, more raw. He enjoys the idea of claiming someone, a curiosity he hasn’t yet fully explored yet. 

He types exactly that. His wording and grammar a bit too neat compared to the rest, but he gives Honey his answer. He wants her to keep it on. Maybe play with herself some more until the fabric is basically see-through, then she can fuck herself with the biggest cock she’s got. 

Joel watches intently as her eyes go over the live chat, there are so many answers coming in, he doubts she’ll see his comment. Still, he likes to believe she’ll see it. 

Honey’s eyes still briefly, hunger swirling in them as a canine sinks into her bottom lip. Her smile is bashful and shy, much different than the character she’s playing. Her eyes move back to the camera. Joel watches her breasts as her chest heaves, nipples grazing against the cool metal. 

“Well, well, JMiller. . . you certainly have a mouth on you,” she tuts and Joel’s eyes go wide. The satisfaction he feels leads to goosebumps coursing over his burning skin, being noticed. . . it’s surprisingly thrilling. “Are you new? I haven’t seen your handle before.” 

Joel swallows, his hands shaking as he types in a quick “yea”, Honey smiles, “Welcome to the hive then, baby. Keep the comments up,” she sighs, cupping both her tits. “I love a man who knows how to dirty talk.” 

A knot forms in his throat, his skin tight. He wasn’t expecting to be this affected. Now he understands why so many people enjoy live streams. They don’t see you, not actually, but still, it almost fills the void. Almost. He’s excited now, eager to type in more of his thoughts, eager to hear her answer him. Joel pulls out his cock, the waistband of his sweats hugging his thighs. He gives himself a firm tug, his spine straightening at the burn gathering in his lower stomach. It feels fucking good. 

“Since it’s J’s first time, and because he got me all hot and bothered, why not leave the panties on for this time?” Honey says. Joel observes the chat, there are a lot of congratulatory messages addressed to him, welcoming him. He doesn’t care. “You want to see these panties soaked, huh? You guys know how much I love making a mess.” 

Honey shimmies back, revealing more of her bare legs. She spreads them for the camera, the soft sound of delicate metal filling the air whenever she moves. Her fingers start to move lazily over her clothed clit, her head falls. Joel can see a subtle dark patch growing, his own hand starting to move slowly up and down his throbbing cock. A drop of precum dribbles down, easing the glide of his rough palm. She doesn’t look at the chat as frequently as she did before, too focused on her pleasure. Her glossy lips part and her eyes scrunch up. Her moans are loud and breathy, signs that she lives alone. 

Joel doesn’t think as he fists himself. Normally when watching porn he would think; he would think of a scenario, or what he would be doing differently, or the things he would want to do. This is different. He’s just watching, inhaling what’s being given to him. He sucks a sharp breath, his hand moving faster, the side of his fist smacking against his pelvis, dark curls damp under his palm. 

“Fuck,” Honey moans, eyes peering toward the screen. Her fingers move faster, her hips grinding to meet the graze of her palm. Joel groans, his eyes rolling back into his skull. “I think I’m going to come,” he breathes out. “Should I?” 

Joel doesn’t bother with typing until he hears his alias. 

“JMiller, since you’re new the decision is yours. Should I? P-Please answer,” she sounds desperate, her hips rutting the air as she presses her fingers hard against her clit. “O-Or do you want me to come on your cock?” 

Joel’s hips stutter, filling the tightness of his fist, “Fuckin’ hell.” 

With sticky fingers he types his answer, telling her that she should come with his cock deep inside her. Joel also adds that he wants to hear her, telling her to be loud. 

“O-Okay,” she whines, almost tearful as she reaches to grab her dildo off-screen. Joel can’t help the grin that makes its way across his face. He types again, telling her not to cry and that she’ll be coming soon enough. When he presses enter, he notices that his name is highlighted in dark orange. “You’re kind of an asshole,” she answers playfully. “I like that.” 

You're the buzzing heartbeat of Honeysuckle’s live stream! You are picked by the streamer as the treasured Drone Bee, your unwavering loyalty and vibrant energy create an electrifying atmosphere. Your presence is a key ingredient in making the honey even sweeter! 

A growl echoes in his throat when Honey shows the camera the dildo she had picked out. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was her biggest. It’s bigger than his own dick, and Joel is by no means a small man. He squeezes his cock and looks down, with a sudden need growing in his chest, he purses his lips and lets a long trail of saliva drip between his lips. He shudders when it reaches the head of his cock. He swipes his palm over it and continues to stroke himself, he wants to come. 

He wants them to come at the same time. 

Honey pushes the dildo in slowly, giving her viewers a clear sight of what’s happening. The toy stretches her wide, the ache of it pulling a gasp from her pretty lips. Joel breathes heavily, his nostrils flaring as his hand speeds up. 

Oh, how he would love to be the one fucking slowly into her, to hear those little gasps coming from her in person rather than his shitty speakers. He holds his breath. It’s buried fully inside of her now. She slowly looks down, her eyes looking directly into the camera. 

“I hope the view down there is good,” she says with a smirk. Joel doesn’t type anything. He focuses on the way his cock drools for her, aches to be buried in her cunt. Honey pulls out the toy until it’s only the tip that’s inside and then shoves it all in one smooth thrust. She cries out, her voice unfiltered. Joel’s stomach jumps at the sound, his pupils dilating like a wolf seeing its prey for the first time. 

She fucks herself hard, whimpering and crying out every time she fuck herself deep. Joel sees the way the plastic surface shines with her slick, he bets she tastes fucking sweet. 

He knows she’s close when her thighs begin to shake—he also knows thanks to the live chat going completely berserk, cheering her on and telling her to squirt. Joel, despite her own release close enough that he can taste it, rolls his eyes. 

“This one is for you JMiller,” she whimpers and Joel’s eyes go wide, his cock pulsing in his wet fist. “Hope you’re gonna fall down the edge with me, big guy.”  

Joel doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until she’s coming—she does so with a loud moan, her cunt fluttering around the large cock. Her head falls back completely, giving a clear view of her heaving chest, nipples fully erect under the see-through armor. 

His fall from grace is less pretty. He lets out a grunt, his hips fucking into his hand helplessly as come spurts from the slit, it’s almost painful. His heart beats aggressively while he tries hard to keep his focus on the screen, he doesn’t want to miss anything. Joel makes a mess of himself and his surroundings, the rug underneath his socked feet stained with his release. 

 Joel’s cock stops throbbing and with a pleased sigh, his shoulders drop. 

“That felt fuckin’ goood,” he groans, staring blankly at the ongoing live stream. Vaguely he notices Honey pulling the toy out, an equally fucked out expression on her face. The live chat is still going wild, he manages to lean over and type in one last sentence before going offline. 

Good girl. 

Joel is a weak weak man. 

Watching Honey quickly became a routine for him. She would start streaming around the same time he would come back from work and it was the perfect way to let off some steam. Tommy had asked if he checked out Ravish, to which Joel promptly said no. He didn’t need his baby brother making fun of him. 

Besides, some primal part of him didn’t want Tommy to know about Honey. It’s an odd thought, he realizes, since she’s enjoyed by many many people. Still, he didn’t have an explanation for what he was feeling. 

Once she had brought in a guest, and his body had immediately rejected it. He was ready to close the stream and head to the bathroom for a quick shower—however, he stopped when he noticed who the guest was; CammingBravo. Another streamer who had caught Joel’s attention when he was scrolling through the endless amount of entertainers for the first time. He watched Honey eat out his tight little asshole, then he watched Bravo fuck her senseless, making her soak the sheets. 

Joel never came that hard in his life before— It was exhilarating. He tipped handsomely that night and Honey mentioned how JMiller was one of her best viewers. Bravo’s smile, which was surprisingly kind, was infectious. 

He would be lying if he said his chest didn’t puff up a little. 

And, of course, he ended up buying a private chat with her after that. He just had to. It would just be this one time, he told himself, just one hour without the live chat. Just him and her. 

He turns on the laptop, already knowing that he’s kidding himself. There’s no way this will be a one-time thing. He’s too. . . smitten to leave it with one private chat. 

Maybe he can limit himself to once a month. That seems reasonable. 

The familiar website of Ravish loads and he clicks on the little gray person in the corner. He finds the section that’s titled “private chats” and clicks. Her username, Honeysuckle, pops up. On the screen, it says she’ll be with him shortly. 

A minute later the screen goes black and her face comes into view. She’s wearing a pink see-through bra with strawberries on it, Honey’s smile is bright as she looks into the camera.  

“Hi there J!” she greets him, his stomach warms at the sound of her voice. “This is your first time doing a live chat right?” 

He nods absent-mindedly while typing. Honey reads his answer and gives him an empathetic look. 

“Okay, so you don’t have to show your face—obviously—but if you want you can click the tiny microphone in the corner and talk to me directly. But if that’s also too much you can continue to type what you want me to do.” 

Joel’s eyebrows raise. Talk to her. . . with his actual voice? The thought both excites and sends cold fear down his spine. What would he even say? What if she doesn’t like the sound of his voice? 

“Are you there?” her voice comes through. “Is everything alright?” 

His fingers tense and rigid, Joel types in the questions that swirl in his head. Luckily the questions sound cheeky without any tone indicators so Honey smiles, her eyes narrowing while her lips curl seductively. 

“You can say anything you want, big boy,” she licks her lips. “And don’t worry about your voice, I’m yours for the hour. You might as well have the most shrill voice in the world, I would still tell you how sexy you sound.” 

You always call me that. Why?  . . .  Also, it doesn’t make me feel any better when you say you’ll tell me how good I sound regardless but I get what you mean. 

Joel aggressively chews the smooth inside of his cheek. Honey reads his messages, a grin stretching across her beautiful face, “Let’s just say streamer’s intuition,” she winks. “As for the other thing, I mean that you don’t need to worry. I doubt you have the most shrill voice in the world.”  she thinks over her words before adding. “Of course, it’s up to you. If you don’t want to use voice chat that’s completely fine.” 

 Joel sighs, his curser hovering over the tiny microphone. Closing his eyes, he clicks. 

“Can—Can you hear me?” 

Her eyes sparkle. 

“Crystal clear,” she answers with a wide smile. “You sound hot.” 

She sounds genuinely impressed. Joel can’t help but chuckle with the shake of his head. “Don’t sound so surprised but thanks, I think?” 

“Oh it’s definitely a compliment,” she says rolling her tongue. “Is there anything you want me to call you or should I just call you J?” 

There’s a brief moment where he thinks of just telling her his name but he bites his tongue at the very last moment. His heart does a little jump when he answers, “You can call me. . . sir.” 

“Understood, sir,” she repeats, her voice dripping with lust. A shudder crawls up his spine and he has to brace himself by holding his knees. “There is also a matter of safewords, I don’t do everything as I’m sure you don’t as well. Red is for stop, yellow is for slow down and green is for go. I think that’s the simplest one but if you want to use a different word I’m okay with that.” 

Joel blinks before answering, “Uh, yeah sounds good.” 

“Also the website doesn’t allow screen recordings—which I appreciate— so you can’t film these sessions in any way. I’m just letting you know because no one reads the terms of service and one client was very unhappy when he got a cease and desist.”

“I. . . okay, I wouldn’t even think of it.” 

She smiles and Joel’s heart feels a bit lighter, “Good,” with the rules established, a sense of relaxation washed over both of them. “So, do you have anything planned for me?” 

Joel clears his throat as a warning and her eyes glimmer with amusement. 

“Sorry,” she breathes heavily. “Did you have anything planned for me, sir?” 

“Would you laugh if I said no?” 

“Sir, I would never laugh at you,” she pouts, brows turning upward. Momentarily she looks off screen and when her eyes find the lens again she smiles giddily.  “Would you want me to show you the toys I think you’ll like?” 

Joel smiles at how genuinely excited she sounds, it’s hard to remind himself that this is all an act and that this is her job. He wants this to be real. He wants her to actually be excited to show him all the things she wants him to use. 

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he answers not missing the way her lips part with a soft gasp. “Show me what you got.” 

Honey shows him a handful of her toys. She has a lot. Dildos of various sizes, vibrators, nipple clamps, kegel balls, anal plugs, anal beads, floggers, collars, paddles. . . she might as well have an entire sex shop in her room. Joel takes mental notes of all of them to use during their next sessions.  

“Anything that you like, sir?” 

“The paddle,” he murmurs, feeling a bit flustered now that they’re actually getting into it. “The one with the heart-shaped hole and. . . the nipple clamps—” 

“The heart-shaped ones?” 

Joel swallows thickly, “Y—Yeah.” 

“No need to be shy, sir,” she grins. “It’s only you and me.” Honey picks out the toys Joel requested and raises an eyebrow while her gaze searches the pile. “So, no dildos? Or vibrators?” 

“I . . . had somethin’ else in mind, if that’s alright.” 

“Ohhhh, a mystery,” she purrs, winking into the camera. “I love it, sir.” 

Honey is slow to rid herself of her bra, sliding one arm out and then the other before moving both hands to the back to unclasp herself free of the dainty fabric. Her chest nears the camera, giving him a full view of her fully erect nipples. Joel’s breathing grows heavier by the second. He can feel his cock stiffen, pleasure stirring in his gut. He quickly kicks off his shorts, leaving himself bare on the couch as he watches her secure the clamps over each nipple. She lets out a tiny sigh of bliss, pulling her arms back and planting her palms firmly against the mattress, she shows her newly decorated nipples. 

Joel groans and wraps his hand around his cock. She does a little wiggle, the soft sound of bells making his cock twitch. 

“Are you touching yourself, sir?” 

“Yea.” 

“Good, I want to hear you get off,” she quickly adds. “Sir.” 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweet thing,” his eyes flutter closed as his fist moves down, and he opens them back up after giving himself a firm squeeze. “Turn around,” he grunts. “And don’t forget the paddle.” 

She does as she’s told, which in return gives Joel an immense sense of control and satisfaction. Precome drips down his length, he uses it to lube himself further, paying extra attention to be loud for her. Just like she wanted. 

His eyes follow the movement of the paddle, she drags it over the right cheek of her ass, caressing her skin. Her panties disappear between the crease of her gorgeous ass, leaving little to the imagination. “Is this okay, sir?” she asks, her voice thick. “Am I being a good girl?” 

Goosebumps rise over his skin. He’d called her, wrote to her, good girl after every stream—his smirk is laced with something dark when he realizes that she must’ve enjoyed it. 

“You’re being very good,” he answers. “Now hit yourself with it, I want to see a heart tattooed on that pretty flesh of yours.” 

“Southern man into branding, why am I not surprised?” she purrs and lifts her ass closer the camera. “You like seeing your pretty girl all marked up by her owner?” 

Fuck. 

“Don’t get full of yourself,” he orders, adding a bit more venomous tone to his voice. Honey stills, and briefly Joel worries he’d overstep. He stops breathing, not wanting to miss even the smallest hint of the safeword. 

But then she shudders, hitting herself lightly with the paddle. “How’s this, sir?” she says, her lilt indicating that she’s highly aware it isn’t enough. 

“Harder.” 

She spanks herself harder, her body jolting. Joel can hear the bells. He circles the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb, groaning as he makes himself more comfortable on the couch. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re listenin’,” he inhales slowly, enjoying the way her muscles tense. “I want to see those hearts on your skin. I thought this was supposed to be a show.” 

“Y-Yes, sir.” 

He loves how breathy her voice has gotten. Heat licks the base of his spine, his cock begging for release. 

She raises the paddle, smacking her plump meat much harder than before. Her asscheek ripples and Joel can finally see a faint trace of a shape. But it’s not clear enough to be a decent heart. “Again,” he orders. 

It takes about six to nine times before the heart takes shape on her skin. She’s whimpering, tremors moving up and down her body as she fights the urge to collapse. She loves seeing his mark there, she might’ve placed herself, but it was his doing and he revels in it. 

“Good,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Good fuckin’ girl. Lookin’ so pretty for me.” 

“S-Sir,” she mutters. Joel doesn’t know what to expect until her hand comes between her legs, sliding the thin line of her panties to the side. Her cunt is a sopping mess. Joel leans further towards the screen, his tongue licking the roof of his mouth. “Do you see how wet I am? P-Please, I want to come—Can I, sir?” 

“Fuck, ‘course you can,” his neck feels warm, burning almost. “Turn around, grab one of them pillows behind you.” 

“P-Pillow?” 

She sounds dazed, Joel almost feels bad for her, almost. “Yes sweetheart, pillow,” he coos. “I want you to grind that pretty cunt against it. . . honey.” 

“Shit, say that again.” 

“Honey,” he groans again, his hips thrusting into the air, burying himself deep into his fist. His voice drops further as he begins to chant, “Honey, honey, honey, honey—” 

She visibly clenches at that, her entire body tight with arousal. With shaky hands, she brings the pillow between her thighs, straddling the soft cushion. Her head falls back as she gives it an experimental roll of her hips, Joel’s breath catches in his throat. She looks delectable. Her hands come up to her chest and tugs at the clamps, she jumps, a wanton moan echoing from the back of her throat. 

“You’re so worked up aren’t you?” Joel continues as she grinds herself further down, leaving a wet, darkened patch behind. He’s preaching to the choir. His own arousal drooling over his knuckles. He closes his eyes, allowing his mouth to roam free. “Stuff three fingers in your mouth, want you to choke darlin’.” 

With a whine, she nods and pushes three fingers between her lips. Joel smirks, “It ain’t nearly enough but at least you can get a feelin’ of how much my cock would stretch those pretty lips, honey,” he rasps. She shudders, her hips moving wildly over the pillow. “You love havin’ your mouth full don’t you?” 

“Yesh, sur,” she moans around her own fingers, she move acutely, and with every jerk of her hips, Joel can see her throbbing clit. He’s teetering on the edge of his release, heat pools between his legs, his balls go tight. 

“I’m gonna come, honey,” he groans, his tight shaking. “Come with me, show me how wet your get that pillow.” 

With a hint of mischief in her eyes, she loudly gulps around her fingers, giving Joel a clear few of her cunt before rolling her hips down against the smooth surface. His eyes go wide and before his brain can register the coil snapping, he spills over his hand. Heavy strings of come dripping down his hard throbbing length. He makes a choked sound as he tries to breathe in and out at the same time. Honey pulls out her fingers from her mouth and grins, her hands drop in front of her and she bounces up and down, mimicking the way she would ride him. 

The action manages to squeeze one last rope of come from him, his lungs collapse, his body burning. She comes right after, her thighs squeezing around each side of the pillow before gushing around it. Joel can see the shine as she continues to grind her hips. 

“Show me,” he pants, his next words quickly shifting into a growl. “Show it to me.” 

Licking her lips, Honey pulls the pillow from between her legs and shows it to him. His cock twitches with interest. “Wanna taste you,” he says without thinking. 

“Sadly technology hasn’t improved that much yet,” she answers. “But I’ll tell you this much,” she leans in and flattens her tongue against the soaked fabric. Joel’s jaw tightens, his molars digging together painfully. She moans. “I taste sweet. Like honey.” 

You hate visiting home. 

You hate the heat, the crowd, staying at a home where you’re still treated like a child when you haven’t been one for a long long time. But you didn't really have a choice when your dad hurt his leg, which meant that you had to help around with the tiny bookshop your family owned. It was a miracle that it was still standing, but people did love their old, dusty bookshops. You had to admit, you enjoyed the aura of the place.

Your mom had asked you to bring over two coffees before coming in, she opened up shop early which you were grateful for. Now that you were home, you didn’t have the luxury to do as many private calls as you wanted to. You still streamed late at night, keeping silent, your audience didn’t mind. They thoroughly enjoyed the whispering and the “we can’t be caught” act. You only indulged in one private session, a session that you couldn’t bare letting go of. 

JMiller. 

You thought a lot about what his real name might be. Jacob, Jeff, Jeremy. . . none of them felt right. It was disappointing because you wanted to scream his name when you had your hand between your legs. But since you couldn’t decide on a name, you whimpered a string of sirs over and over again. 

You eagerly counted down the hours until you could finally spend time with him. This was a funny thought on its own because you boasted about how professional you were. You kept things clear, not allowing for any miscommunication or—potentially—feelings. But there was just something about him that got your entire body yearning to hear his southern drawl. Maybe it was the nostalgia of it all. You did grow up in Austin after all. But still. It was odd how excited you got before going online. 

You briefly mentioned you were going back home, you didn’t tell him where, obviously, but you did tell him that there could be scheduling issues. He understood. 

Of course he did, he was perfect. 

Pulling yourself away from your thoughts, you impatiently drum your foot against the clean marble floors. This line is insane. You let out a groan, sending your mother a quick text that it might take you a while. A second later your phone buzzes with a thumbs-up emoji from her. You sigh again as you shove the phone down your back pocket, you hate waiting, it gets you anxious and even though you don’t have a boss that will yell at you, you don’t enjoy being late. 

Then, as if he popped out of the concrete like a weed, a man pushes himself between you and the other person that was waiting in line in front of you. 

Your heart races, your eyebrows knitting together, no way in hell are you going to allow someone to cut in line. 

“Hey,” you call out. The man ignores you and you tap his shoulder, he turns sharply, his eyes glaring daggers. “You can’t cut in line,” you say defensively. “You need to move to the back of the line.” 

“Look lady I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about I was always here.” 

“Ummmm, no you weren’t,” your chest heaves, heat rising to your cheeks. You don’t like confrontation—you’d do it, but you’d hate it. Your legs are already shaking slightly. “I’ve been staring at the pink paint stain on that guy’s shoulder for about half an hour so I know what I’m talking about.” 

He rolls his eyes, an ugly snarl taking shape, “Just leave it. I ain’t gonna budge. I have places to be.” 

“And the rest of us don’t?” you snort, eyebrows raised. He shrugs, makes a face, and turns his back to you once again. It takes you everything not to stomp your foot like an angry bull. 

You’ve had enough. You’re tired of the assholes of the word, you don’t care if you’re not allowed into the coffee shop ever again. Puffing up your chest, you open your mouth wide, ready to give this rude stranger a piece of your unfiltered mind. 

“You know what—” 

“Is that any way to treat a lady, moonshine?”  

You turn towards the source of the voice. It’s a man you’ve never seen before. He’s rugged looking, the salt and pepper in his beard endearing. He has a deep crease between his brows, his brown eyes dark as he stares down at the rude stranger. You take in the sight of his broad shoulders, thick neck—your heart does a little flip. You don’t know why but you’re drawn to the man, he has a nice voice. 

The man, however, isn’t as pleased as you. 

“What’s it to you? She your girlfriend?” 

You’re not but you kinda wish you were. 

“Get in the back of the line, I saw you cut in front of her.” 

The tension in the air is thick enough that you can cut it with a knife. You hold your breath, your lungs starting to burn as electricity crackles between the two men. Finally the asshole caves and sighs, going to the back of the line. You let out the breath you’ve been holding, your shoulders sagging with relief right after. 

“Thank you,” you say, your gaze finding the kind strangers. “I was right about to blow my lid before you stepped in.” 

He doesn’t answer and just continues to stare at you. Worry builds in your spine. Why isn’t he saying anything? His softened gaze flits across your face, taking in every detail before looking away. He pushes his hands down his pockets, looking almost boyish with the way he drops his gaze to the floor. 

“Don’t mention it,” he mutters. 

You raise an eyebrow. His voice still sounds familiar. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you shove the thoughts of familiarity into the back of your head and grace him with a wide smile. He blushes profusely, eyes slightly going wide, he takes a sharp inhale. 

“How about I pay for your coffee. . . or whatever you’re buying?” you ask. 

“You don’t have—” 

“I insist!” you chirp, glad that the line is finally moving. You extend your hand with enthusiasm, which he accepts a bit tentatively. Your smile never wavering, you tell him your name and an emotion akin to guilt washes over his eyes. He releases your hand, lips a tight, frigid line. “Is something wrong?” you ask. “You don’t like the name?” 

“N–No, it ain’t that,” he shifts from one leg to the other. You nearly look down, curious to see how tightly his jeans hug his muscular thighs. “I’m. . . Joel.” 

The world around you falls into a complete silence. Joel. Joel. Something electric and searing shoots up your spine, your lashes fluttering. Your heart starts beating a mile a minute but you’re not sure why. The only thing you do know is that this is a significant moment. An important moment. 

Your rake your brain for answers. 

Why? 

Why is it important? What piece are you missing to complete the puzzle? 

His lips break into a soft smile, he gestures towards the counter with his head. “We’re up.” 

“O-Oh, yeah,” you swallow, barely able to pull your gaze away from him. “Sorry.” 

You tell the kind barista your order and she writes it down on both your cups happily. The two of you move away from the line to wait for your drinks; a black coffee for your mom, a caramel macchiato for you, and an iced quad espresso for Joel. You raise an eyebrow. 

“I have a long day comin’,” he says with a small smile. “And I didn’t do much sleepin’ last night.” 

Your mind immediately flashes you memories of last night. Legs spread wide with two dildos stretching you, JMiller really enjoys it when you test your limits. Your pulse pounding in your skull, you look down. “Don’t I know it.” 

“You had a late night too?” there’s a teasing lilt to his tone. Your stomach churns and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. It looks like he’s about to say something else but the barista calls your name and both of you head towards the counter. He takes his death juice with a grateful smile, his demeanor more relaxed compared to when you introduced yourself.

“Thank you, honey. I appreciate it.” 

Oh shit. 

Shit shit shit shit. 

It is him. 

JMiller—J stands for Joel. 

Fuck. 

“You. . .” you begin, panic raising in your voice. “You’re. . .” 

He nods, “I think we both know why I didn’t sleep much last night,” he extends his hand again. “Huge fan by the way. You’re great and this is awkward as hell.” 

“It is,” you whisper. Still, you take his hand. “It is.” 

“You’ve never had someone come up to you on the street before?” he asks, curious. “I would assume you get recognized a lot.” 

“Not as much as you would think,” a cruel, humorless burst of laughter drops from your lips. “People don’t exactly want their partners to know they’re watching me. But if they’re alone yeah. . . sometimes they’ll say hi.” 

Or they’ll ask inappropriate questions and be weird about it but he doesn’t have to know that. 

Now that he’s mentioned you bumping into others, you’re not sure why it felt like the end of the world before. You feel embarrassed, flustered even, two emotions that a client shouldn’t be making you feel. 

“Well,” he breaks the silence, moving his jaw as he opens the door for you. “Thanks for the coffee.” 

“Technically you bought it.” 

“Right. . .” 

The two of you are out in the street now, staring at each other, contemplating what to say. He scratches the back of his head, then his fingers move to rub at his jaw. Arousal gathers between your thighs, it’s not your fault, now that you know that it’s him, your body acts accordingly. 

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” 

You still for a moment before answering, “Yeah.” 

He turns and leaves, you do the same, only in the opposite direction. 

After learning your name, Joel completely abandoned his rule of you calling him 'sir', making you moan his actual name as frequently as he could. His name stuck to your tongue. It might as well have been tattooed under your bottom lip. He was possessive in the way he asked, in some instances even begging for you to say it—and you fucking loved it. You loved this sick claim he had towards you now that you two had officially met. You loved how much more eager he was to see you make a sticky mess between your thighs. You love how cock dumb he made you feel without actually being there to fuck you himself. 

He even started doing his version of online aftercare. Mostly he would just talk, tell you about every-day things as you came down from your high. Or he would murmur a song. You never asked if he was a musician, he had a nice voice. 

It’s the beginning of the session and you’re getting ready. He says he enjoys watching the preparation you do for him so you decided to start streaming five minutes earlier, allowing him to watch. You really need him today. You had a rough day with an order mix-up, and your mom isn’t the best at dealing with mishaps. He clears his throat, which draws your attention to him. 

“Is something wrong?” you ask. 

“No no, everythin’ is fine, sweetheart. I just. . .” he sighs. “I want to ask somethin’.” 

“Ask away.” 

“Can we—Would you want to—” he groans in frustration and you start grinning. His frustrated pout is adorable. All you want to do is smooth the crease between his brows with your thumb and give him a kiss. 

“Joel Miller,” you tease, not missing the way his breath catches in your throat. “Are you asking me out on a date?” 

Oh god, you hope your intuition is right. If it isn’t this call is about to get really awkward. 

He flushes, eyes dropping as he nods. 

“Is that okay?” 

This is highly unprofessional, “More than okay. I’d love to go on a date with you.” 

His grin is infectious. 

“Good,” he lets out a breath then settles back against the couch. “Now show me those pretty tits, honey.” 

You can’t believe you’re actually in JMiller’s, aka Joel’s, home. 

The date had gone better than you expected. He was kind, charming, and chivalrous which were all qualities you haven’t seen for a while. Ever since you started streaming you hadn’t been on many dates and frankly, after a while, you purposefully avoided them. It just felt like asking for drama that you had no intention of dealing with. But Joel wasn’t like that. He could be blunt, a bit grumpy, yet also kind. He had taken you to one of his favorite pubs. Beers accompanied by the best jalapeno poppers you ever had equated to one of the finest dates you’ve ever had. 

He was a contractor, had a daughter in college, and a younger brother. His mother and father had passed a long time ago and ever since Sarah left, he’d been feeling lonely. He’d admitted shyly that that was the reason why he signed up on Ravish. He wanted company. 

You found it incredibly charming. 

As soon as Joel closes the door behind you two, you fall into each other’s arms. He kisses you with fervor, tongue slipping between your lips as he breathes you in at the same time. You feel him everywhere. Large hands squeezing your hips, waist, breasts—it’s intoxicating. You moan wantonly into his mouth, your lids falling when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like beer and you’re pretty sure you do too. 

Joel pushes you up against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs while you continue to chase his lips with an insatiable need. You can’t bear to be separated from him, not even for a second. He drags his lips down your neck, mouthing at your jugular, sharp teeth nipping the sensitive flesh. Your hips jerk to meet his and with a growl, he pins you back to the wall. 

“Don’t,” he grunts. “I’ve been waitin’ so long for this honey, so fuckin’ long.” 

Your lips curl, a challenge lingering in your eyes, “Show me then, big boy. Show me how bad you want to fuck your slut.” 

“Fuck,” he hisses, gripping your chin harshly and pulling you in for another kiss. Your teeth clink together, he pulls back just as quick, the muscle in his jaw twitches. “Fuck,” he breathes out again. “You have quite the mouth on you, darlin’.” 

You have no recollection of how the two of you clamored upstairs, stripping one another in a lustful haze. The time you realize you’re naked is when you feel the cool air of the room caressing your burning skin, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses down between your breasts, fingers eagerly working your nipples as he forces you to walk back until your back of your knees hit the bed and you fall. 

Not wanting to give in so easily, you wrap your fingers around his heavy cock. It juts angrily between his legs, answering your touch by drooling all over your palm, slickening your movements. You jerk him until he’s fully hard, his breathing heavy as he rolls his hips to meet the tightness of your fist. He sinks his teeth into your neck, the pain that blossoms coaxes a moan from you, your own wetness growing between your legs. 

“I knew you’d be fucking big,” you whisper, tongue toying with his earlobe. “So huge—makes me wonder if I can take it. . .” 

“I’ve seen you take bigger,” he groans, hips stuttering. A whimper drops from your lips, you want him, you want to feel him inside, want to feel his come dripping out later. You feel thick fingers spreading your soaked folds, he drags down a middle finger between them, licking himself into your mouth as he draws circles around your aching clit. “So wet for me,” he rasps. “Gonna make a mess in you, honey.” 

You gasp, “P-Please.” 

He lines himself against your entrance, teasing you, stretching you subtly with the bulbous head of his cock. Your head falls back and your back arches into him. He draws a hard nipple between his lips, closing them as he sucks. Heat rushes all over your body, arousal thick on your tongue. You clutch the sheets. He smiles as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch with a lax jaw and a dazed gaze. 

He stops and waits for you to adjust to him. Joel’s forehead drops against yours, dampness growing between the skin. You feel his breath fanning your face, so warm. There’s a hint of pain, the type that makes you flutter around him. He feels it too. The way you tighten against him, your body begging for more. He obliges. Pushing further and further until his hips are flushed against yours. His jaw is clenched tight, his breathing heavy. 

“Fuck you feel so good,” he presses fleeting kisses all over your face. It’s ticklish and if all your senses wasn’t narrowed in between your legs, you would’ve giggled. 

Your body jerks as he pulls back, the pleasure you feel is instant and overwhelming. You’ve missed the feeling of actual flesh inside of you. Joel snaps his hips forward, locking your breath in your throat, with a moment of desperation you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. He fucks you in earnest. Every thrust desperate. Every thrust needy. He seems lost in you, whimpers, groans and grunts trembling in his throat and chest. You spread your legs wider, wanting more of him, wanting your cunt to take the shape of his cock. 

“Harder—” you cry out. “Take it—Take what you want—” 

Your arms fall limp, his body moving up and towering over yours. Joel grips your thighs tight before lifting them, he jackhammers into you, tugging and pulling at you like a brand new fucktoy. He splits you in half. The force of his movements making you scream. You don’t miss the way he grins wildly, dangerously. Something dark and haunting washing over his face. 

Your eyes grow wide, your heart beating in your throat, making it hard to swallow. It happens all at once, you clench around him, arousal pouring between your legs in a way it never had before. The look, the cock, the man behind it all—everything combined pushing your mind into the deep stages of want and need. Your eyes roll back, your hands coming up to pinch your tight, tingling nipples. You sob his name, your voice hoarse as you beg him for more and more and more—

“W-Wait, darlin’ if you squeeze me like that I’ll—!” 

A series of curses drops wildly and unintelligently from his lips. You feel him. The heat of his seed filling you to the brim, his cock throbs and twitches, spurting into you again and again. Your lips break into a satisfied smile. Instinctively, Joel pushes deeper, shoving your combined slick even deeper. 

“Shit,” he says catching his breath. “I-I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I usually last. . . longer than that. I—” 

You shush him and cup his cheek. You’re so pliant right now, floating happily in the air. You let out a sigh before willing your lips to move. Has talking always been this taxing? 

“It’s okay Joel,” you slur your words, smiling lazily. “I take it as a compliment, that felt fucking good.” 

“Yeah?” he sounds so innocent and hopeful that you can’t suppress your giggle. His eyes twinkle under the dimmed light. “Well, I’m glad you felt good, sweetheart but I’m not done yet.” 

Your breath hitches when he pulls out, your brows furrow as a chill settles between your legs. You wanted him to stay inside longer. But you’re pleasantly surprised when he slides down your body, kissing every patch of skin before settling between your legs. 

“Let’s see if you’re as sweet as you’ve been tellin’ me.” 

He kisses your cunt, lips moving in tandem with your wet folds. He drags his tongue up between them, curling it as he takes himself into his mouth, tasting both of you at one. You go limp at the pressure of his tongue, your walls fluttering and squeezing for more. With a groan, he shoves his fingers, the wet sound makes your toes curl into the mattress. It’s like torture, a very pleasurable torture. You gasp when he pulls you flush against his face, the bridge of his nose bumping against your clit as he licks you clean. 

Your build up is spontaneous. You feel it coming, the taste of your orgasm at the tip of your tongue. Joel curls his fingers, sucking your clit between his lips and gently nipping at it. You hips chases his mouth, his mustache chafing the tender skin. Your hands come to each side of his head, threading your trembling fingers through the soft locks, his fingers brush against an especially sensitive spot and you tug at his hair. His throat shakes with a groan. His eyes closing. 

“Do it again,” he mutters. And you do. He starts moaning into your cunt, his hips, despite just spilling inside of you, rutting against the bed. Your nails bite into his scalp and he flicks his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

The tension coiling in you finally snaps, your entire body locking up as you gush into his mouth. He gulps you down loudly, fingers still moving deep inside you. Your throat is dry as ou shout his name, hips stuttering helplessly, he pins you down with both hands, moving his head up and down as the fat strokes of his tongue becomes more wild. 

When he’s finally done feasting, he pulls away with a wet mouth. 

“Wow,” you murmur, curling into him when he lays beside you. “That was. . . wow.” 

“You really had low expectations, huh?” 

“Not low,” you grin. “But not that high either.” 

“Well,” he says, guiding you so you’ll lay on his chest. “I’m glad to prove you wrong.” 

You smile, heart fluttering. 

“Me too.” 

[bananayuyu]

Cabin Fever [part 2]

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: fluff and smut

Word count: 9.7k

Summary: The third day of your trip brings a storm, and even more cramps. You try to navigate the day the best you can, but really you just need to be taken care of, in the way it matters most.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, fingering, period sex, use of a condom, reader has really bad cramps again, some mxm (Seonghwa and Hongjoong)

A/n: I have had such a fun time writing this part, thank you all for the response on part 1! I am falling in love with this cozy world and wish I could live in it for real. Thank you so much to the anon who requested a part 2! I hope you all enjoy <3

Taglist: @pautiny27 @kierraperkins3 @yoonjikim @luvbit3z @pancake-freckle

I'm definitely planning on continuing the series for a while so if you want to be tagged for upcoming parts, let me know!

You can read part 3 here!

You stretch over to find your phone, unhooking it from its charging cable. The light is dim through the window, the room looks almost hazy. Squinting at the screen, you see a missed text from Seonghwa asking if you're doing okay, sent an hour ago.

"It's almost 11:30, we should really get up," you yawn, poking Yunho in the ribs to get his attention. He has once again wrapped himself around you tightly, face buried in your hair, and you're not sure if he's even awake.

"No," he groans, his voice low and gravely. It send a shudder through you, and all of the feelings from last night surface again. You can already feel the pains starting in your lower abdomen, the muscles cramping. You wish it could be night already and he could be making you feel good again.

"We can't just stay in here all day," you say, much as you sort of want to. But you also don't want to waste a day of your time with all of your other friends. Yunho just groans, not wanting to agree with you but knowing you're right. He's just so asleep still, so in the haze of sleeping next to you. He really just wants to stay like this, forever.

"Okay, well, I really have to pee," you say, giggling, peeling yourself off of him. He lets out a small sound of disappointment but doesn't stop you. You turn around and see his tousled hair, his puffy, sleepy eyes. You lean down and place a quick kiss on his temple before making your way to the bathroom, another pad in hand.

The cramps hit you again when you're sat on the toilet, and you double over, feeling light-headed. It doesn't seem like you're bleeding quite as hard as yesterday but you still feel awful, despite all of the restful sleep you got. You gingerly clean yourself up, holding onto the counter as you stand, pausing for a moment so you don't pass out. You sigh, trying not to feel the frustration. But it's hard not to.

When you open the door you are met with Yunho, his messy hair now covered up by his hoodie, his eyes still very sleepy.

"Sorry for taking so long," you say, assuming he really needed to pee. You aren't paying attention, the cramps overwhelming you.

"Hey, look," he says as you start walking past. When you do finally look back you see that he's brought you pain meds and a glass of water. Your face softens immediately.

"Oh, thank you," you say, taking them immediately.

"Are they bad today?" he asks, a hand on your cheek. You just nod. "Go lay down then."

"I wanna hang out with everyone, though," you pout, looking at the floor.

"Well, go lay in the living room then," he suggests.

"Okay," you mumble, heading that way with your glass of water in hand. He watches you walk away, an obvious discomfort and weakness in your body, and it makes his chest hurt. When you were friends in high school he really only saw you on your good days, when you were feeling okay. It wasn't until living with you that he really saw the worst of everything, the truth of your health issues. You never spoke of them often, never truly explained it to him. Living together had forced you to, and when he showed himself to be genuinely good at caring for you, you'd let him in a bit more. He knew you didn't like the idea of people seeing you at your sickest. He never gave much thought to the idea when he was younger, that some people's bodies are wracked with issues from the start, that they never get to know what it's like to be able to rely on your body to carry you through everything. You were so young; though you were the same age as most of the rest of the friend group, you'd always been seen as the baby. He certainly always thought of you as small, in need of protection. He didn't want to tell you that, because he knew you'd hate the idea. It didn't help that you were smarter than most of them, when it came to the practical and academic aspects of life. You were far more mature in many ways. But they had the healthy bodies; they were the ones who were able to move out at eighteen, to become financially independent. It would take you many more years, and two very supportive friends to live with you, before you could move out.

When you make it to the living room you plop down next to Ari and San, snuggling under a blanket. The cabin was colder than you expected, the sky outside still dark.

"Has it been like that all morning?" you ask Ari, staring out the window.

"It was actually raining for a while earlier, it just stopped maybe thirty minutes ago."

"Oh really? No wonder I slept in so long," you reply, sighing into the warmth of your blanket.

"Are you doing okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, but I still feel like crap," you say, frowning. Sipping your water you try to relax, try to get your mind away from how terrible your lower abdomen feels.

"Do you need any pain meds?" she asks you, her face showing obvious concern. Even San is turned towards you and looking worried.

"No, no, I just took some. Thank you though," you respond, squeezing her hand. "I should probably eat something though, I'm starving."

"I think Seonghwa and Hongjoong are making some lunch, I'll go get you some," San replies, standing up.

"Oh, you don't have to," you start, taken aback by the kindness of this almost total stranger. But he walks that way anyway, not stopping at your words.

"He's so freaking nice, what the hell," you say to Ari.

"I know," she laughs, shaking her head. "I almost can't believe it's real sometimes."

"Men just aren't usually like that," you say, and right then Yunho crosses the room, making brief eye contact with you. He heads towards the kitchen, looking like his mind is set on something.

"The guys in our friend group are," she replies.

"Well, that's true. I guess I should say, straight men aren't usually like that, especially if they aren't romantically interested in you," you clarify. "At least not in my experience in the world, and I barely interact with men or go out in public."

"I know, the amount of horrifying behavior I saw at college is crazy. And even now still at my work. I know so many people tried to warn me to be careful around men when I was growing up, but I did not realize just how scary it would be to be in the adult world and have a uterus," she replies. She looks at you, earnestly; how nice it is to have another girl in your group, who understands what it is to exist in the world in your bodies.

"Uteruses should be banned," you say, placing a hand on your stomach. "This thing needs to get the hell out of my body."

Ari laughs, the bright sound raising your spirits. "I would have taken it out for you myself years ago, if I could," she laughs, resting her head on your shoulder.

"What just, reached up inside and like, pulled it out?" you laugh.

"Girl, your mind goes to the strangest places. Now I can't get that visual out of my head," she laughs, a hand coming to rest over her eyes.

"I wish I could do it myself," you reply, "just like-" you reach your hand down and spread your legs, miming the action; you both break into giggles.

"What was that?" Yunho asks as he sits down next to you, a cup of tea in hand. He holds it out towards you, careful to hand you the handle so you don't burn your hands.

"Y/n just being her usual self," Ari replied, still laughing. Yunho just looked confused, sipping at his own cup of coffee.

"I was showing her how I'd remove my uterus, if I could. I wish someone could just reach up in there and take it out," you clarify.

"You should make Yunho do it, he's got big hands," she says.

"Ari!" you shriek, crumpling into a heap of laughter with her. Yunho's ears go red, and he clears his throat to try to calm himself.

"You two are something else," he says, turning away, looking for anyone else to make conversation with.

"Wait, did Yunho make you that cup of tea?" Ari asked you, and at the mention of his name his attention stayed put.

"Yeah," you reply, not sure why she's interested. "He makes me and Hwa tea and coffee like all the time."

"That's sweet. See, we're so lucky to have these boys. He's the perfect example of a straight man who has no romantic interest in you, but still takes care of you."

You know she means it earnestly, from the way a small smile creeps onto her lips, making her eyes crinkle at the corners. But you and Yunho both stop dead in your tracks, your throats simultaneously going dry.

"Yeah, true," you say, trying to be normal. Like this morning, when Seonghwa found you in bed together. The words come out rough and you try to swallow, but it hurts and your eyes squeeze shut for a moment. You take another sip of your tea, trying to appear calm.

"What, Yunho, did I say something weird?" Ari asks, and you look over to see his stony face, his eyes looking almost distant. Something about it makes your heart drop, for a moment, and you don't know why. Something in you begs for him to act normal too, but you realize there's no point. No point in pretending like nothing happened, even if you don't know what it means.

"I need to tell you something," you whisper to Ari, your face just inches from her ear. She leans even closer, clearly excited by your tone. You drop your volume even lower, putting your hand over your mouth to block the sound from going anywhere else. "Last night he like, fingered me."

"What?!" she asks in a whisper, her eyes going wide with excitement.

"Shh, please keep your face normal," you beg her, knowing that isn't possibly going to happen. But you don't want everyone to find out this very second, you'd like it to stay between the two of you. Ari does her best to still her face, knowing you don't want to draw attention. At least it's fairly normal, for the two of you to share secrets. The boys have always respected when you two say something is just for your ears.

"Yeah I was like, hurting last night and he like, made me feel better," you whisper, you both breaking out into giggles.

"Girl," she says, clearly wanting you to continue.

"I'll tell you everything once there's not like twenty people in the room with us," you say, a goofy smile not leaving your face.

"Aww," she says poking your cheek, and you swat her hand away, jokingly rolling your eyes. Ari keeps looking between the two of you, observing the way his body seems drawn towards you even as he sits a bit away, his legs stretching out to meet yours. She has so many questions, seeing as you'd never mentioned having a crush on him. His crush on you had been obvious to her for a while, but she'd never really mentioned it. It always seemed that people in the group had crushes from time to time, due to everyone's closeness. But sometimes they passed, sometimes they came to nothing. It was one of the reasons your group of friends had stayed close for so long; no one really forced closeness or forced information out of one another. Sometimes she felt like it made you less close than you could be. But she knew it also meant no one felt stepped on or smothered.

***

After lunch was served the weather had cleared a bit, and Jongho suggested that everyone play a game of basketball out on the small court to the south of the cabin. Not one of you had plans for the day, and with the way the weather was behaving that was definitely a good thing. You and Ari laid on the couch together, barely overhearing the conversation unfolding. You knew even if you wanted to you couldn't go and play, and the warmth of the couch was a lifesaver against the damp coolness in the air. The rain was not unusual for the time of year, but you swore it never had been this cold during your cabin trips.

"Will you stay inside with me?" you asked her.

"Of course. I wouldn't leave you alone in here. Also, I don't really feel like getting hurt today. You know how competitive they all get," she laughs, holding up her arm and showing you a large cut on the underside.

"My god, what's that from?" you ask.

"Wooyoung pushed me when we were playing waterpolo by the falls, and I scraped my arm on one of the rocks."

"Of course it was him," you chuckle, taking a closer look. "Did you wash it out yesterday?"

"It's not really that deep, but yeah. I'm sure it'll heal quick. I just really don't feel like playing basketball on a wet, slick court."

"And it's so cold, I don't know why they feel like going outside."

"It's not that cold," she says, looking at you confused.

"Wait, really?" you ask. She shakes her head. "Ok well for some reason, I'm freezing."

"One sec," she says, getting up and taking a blanket from the other side of the bed. "Y/n is cold," she says to the group, pointing to you all curled up in your one blanket. Everyone grabs their remaining blankets and one by one, layer them on you.

"This is too much," you whine, but you can't deny you like the attention. You really appreciate the way they all joke around with you; it always makes you feel better.

When all of the boys headed out to play, you finally got a chance to tell Ari everything.

"Your periods are still that bad?" Ari asks you when you tell her how you were feeling the previous night. "You hardly ever mention it anymore."

"It's just, so normal at this point. I guess. I don't know, you know it isn't fun to talk about. Plus this one really has been extra bad. I haven't had one this bad in a while," you respond.

"Well I'm glad he was there to comfort you. You know you could have told everyone how you were feeling yesterday. You didn't have to pretend like you were fine at dinner."

"I don't know, Wooyoung's cousins are here and so is San, I don't really know any of them," you say.

"Let me assure you, San would not care. And I doubt Woo's cousins would either, I mean we've been around them before, they seem very kind. He wouldn't bring them around you if he thought they'd be weird about something as simple as that. I know Woo acts like he doesn't give a shit about anything, but he really cares about you. I overheard him asking Seonghwa this morning how you've been doing," she replies. You look at her tenderly, thankful she shared it with you. As much as you wish Wooyoung would just ask you, you know it's not his way. It warms your heart to know he cares.

"So, how long have you liked Yunho then?" she asks you.

"Dude, I literally don't know. I don't even know what I feel right now," you sigh, shaking your head at her. "I mean, he was really just helping ease my cramps, cause I basically begged him too. And I get fucking horny on my period, I don't know." You put your head in your hands. "I don't even know what words were coming out of my mouth last night."

"So is it just a sexual thing then?" she asks.

"I'm assuming that's how he feels, I mean he's never said anything to the contrary."

"No, I mean for you," she clarifies.

"I.. I don't know. I don't hook up with people, but he's like, one of my best friends, I-" you cut yourself off with a groan, head spinning. "I'm gonna develop feeling for him and he's not gonna feel the same and we live together and it's gonna be a fucking mess," you blurt out, your mind racing out of control.

"Y/n, that man loves you," Ari says, squeezing your shoulder.

"I know Ari, I'm not saying he'd be an asshole about it. But it would still be so awkward for me, and if you love someone platonically that doesn't just change overni-"

"No, he's in love with you," she cuts you off.

"He's said those words to you?" you ask her, incredulous.

"No, but it's obvious to anyone with eyes," she says. You squint questioningly in her direction, feeling like she's just saying what she thinks you want to hear. "Dude I'm serious, Seonghwa has told me about it, the way he is around you. If he's not in love with you then I don't know what it could be."

"He's dated like multiple people since we've known him though, that doesn't make sense," you reply.

"Not since moving in with you," she says. "Has he ever brought any girls over to hang out with? Or to hook up?"

"No," you say, head still spinning.

"That's not because of like, a house rule or something, right?"

"No, we talked about it, we're all okay with bringing people over. Hwa brings over guys sometimes. Well he did when we first moved in, not really this past year."

"But Yunho never has?" she asks again.

You shake your head. "That doesn't mean anything, Ari. He's barely even spoken to me this morning, anyway. He doesn't seem like he's in love. Seems like normal Yunho to me."

"He brought you tea," she says, smirking.

"Oh my god, he always does that," you say, rolling your eyes and also smiling. "I- I don't know how to feel."

"Would you do it again?" she asks. You nod. "Do you like, really really want to do it again?" she continues, making you laugh.

"Yeah," you say, hiding your face in your hands.

"Well, at least you know that. Don't stress about it," she says. "It can just be a fun little thing, it doesn't have to be life changing."

You sigh, soaking in her words. You know what she's saying is absolutely right; it's the kind of advice you'd probably be giving her if the tables were turned. But something about your night with Yunho meaning so little doesn't sit right with you.

"Can you please not tell anyone, not even San? For right now, I don't know what Yunho wants to say," you plead.

"Of course, you don't have to worry about that. I don't share things with San just cause he's my boyfriend, I don't think that's fair to my friends," she responds, hugging you.

"I'm so thankful you're here," you say, sighing comfortingly into her embrace.

"Me too. I love them all but they can be a lot," she says, and you both chuckle. Tucked into your layers of blankets you feel warm and cozy, and your chest feels lighter having told someone about your previous night.

***

Close to 3pm, the storm rolls back in to the area; the winds pick up, the clouds darken, and suddenly rain is pouring down. It sounds like the roof of the cabin is being repeatedly pelted with golfballs, the dull sound surprisingly loud. Suddenly all of the boys are sprinting back inside, their wet shoes squeaking on the tile of the kitchen floor. All of them are thoroughly soaked, their hair sticking to their foreheads, clothes stuck to their bodies. They tumble in one after the other, Wooyoung the last to make it in, and you hear his scream all the way from outside. When they finally get inside they all start undressing, their clothes heavy and cold.

"Didn't realize we were staying at a strip club," Ari says, making you laugh. You know they're just uncomfortable, but you can't help but stare at Yunho as he disrobes, his light blue shirt dripping on him as he heaves it over his head. You don't really see him shirtless like this, even though you live together. He's not one for walking around like that. You'd forgotten how broad he really was, how strong his shoulders are. As he goes to ring out his shirt in the sink you see his tricep flex, and the smooth muscles of his back as well. He's tall and lanky, but you'd forgotten just how muscular he was too.

"You're kind of gawking, just so you know," Ari whispers in your ear, making you jump.

"Oh my god, I'm gross," you groan, burrowing your head in her shoulder.

"No not gross, not gross at all. Fuck, every time San is shirtless I want him to fuck me immediately." You glance over at Ari's boyfriend, already anticipating the muscles you're about to see. You could tell even when he was clothed how built he was.

"How often is at the gym?" you ask.

"Basically every day. He can like, easily pick me up and throw me around. And I'm not exactly the lightest person in the world."

"If that's not everyone's dream," you say, giggling.

"Can't Yunho carry you?" she asks.

"Yeah but I'm basically like a sickly little worm, it's not that hard. Even Hwa can lift me," you laugh,

"Okay, well, he can still lift you. And how big is your height difference?"

You just smile at her question, knowing you are blushing.

"God, if we aren't the most simple of women," she laughs.

"No no, I'll have you know I'm very full of logic and feminism and I do not care about muscles, or height, or anything of the sort. Never in my wildest dreams have I thought about how tall he is in comparison to me and gotten all hot and bothered about it," you joke, your blush having moved to your cheeks too.

"So you have thought about him like that!" she exclaims.

"Keep it down!" you chide, when you see Seonghwa shoot a look over at the two of you.

"Sorry, sorry," she laughs, pouting at you. "What are you looking at?" she says to Seonghwa, who rolls his eyes.

***

After the boys had changed and dried off, Wooyoung insisted that everyone watched a scary movie. You were all stuck inside, and everyone had already spent the morning talking and catching up.

"'It matches the vibe of the storm," he said. "It'll be so fun," he laughed, smirking in your direction. He knew how you couldn't handle jump scares and didn't like gore. He promised you the movie he'd selected didn't have either.

"It's more like, a psychological thriller, you know? It's really fun. Set in a cabin in the woods too."

"Okay, fine," you replied, hoping he was telling the truth.

He was, in fact, lying. You found that out about twenty minutes later.

The loud bang made you jump, causing you to launch sideways and grab onto the closest thing to you. It happened to be Yunho's arm.

When everyone sat down, Yunho sat himself right next to you, but didn't say a word. Everyone was chatting, the room filled with chaos as they came down from the adrenaline rush the storm had caused. Ari got up to sit with San and help him dry off, and when Yunho saw you sitting alone he was almost thankful. He didn't know why, but everything Ari had said earlier made him feel almost jumpy. He had seen the two of you giggling and whispering to each other, and felt like something was happening that he didn't understand. When he approached you your face looked distant, and he almost worried you didn't want him there, that you would have preferred her. He sat with his arm around the back of the couch behind you. But when you didn't lean into him at all, didn't seem comfortable with it, he pulled it back down to his side.

"Woo, you promised me!" you whisper yelled after you jumped, your grip on Yunho so strong it almost hurt. You felt so embarrassed at how easily scared you were.

"That wasn't even a jump scare, just a loud sound," Yunho said, and the room chuckled. You frowned, pulling yourself away from him. You weren't sure why you were so sensitive, but what he said made you feel small. And not in a good way.

Everyone else's attention was back on the movie in a second, but Yunho couldn't stop looking at you and your sullen face.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning ever so slightly towards you. "Come here," he said, moving his arm around your shoulders this time, gently pulling you towards him. You stuffed your head into his chest, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. You weren't sure if you even wanted his comfort. You completely tuned out the movie, closing your eyes. You mind raced with thoughts from the day, and you suddenly realized you hadn't had a chance to talk to Seonghwa. You had wanted to assure him of what was happening, because he lived with you both. You didn't want him worried that you and Yunho had been keeping something from him, sneaking around behind his back. But as you peaked around the room to find his face, you didn't see him anywhere. You felt confused, and exhausted, and suddenly realized how cold you were again. You tried to tuck yourself into the blankets more but it just wasn't enough, so finally you decided to go grab Yunho's hoodie from the library. Maybe one more layer would help.

You slowly crawl your way out of the room, careful not to block anyone's view of the TV. When you finally stand up you're at the edge of the very short hallway that leads to the library. As you stand you notice how dark the sky looks. This window faces out towards the fire pit, and sits where the cabin is directly under a few trees and your view is limited. Still, the view is beautiful. The rain has become more gentle now, and the soft sound soothes you as you look out across the land splattered with greenery. The plants, the trees, they're the reason you really like being out here. You hope that today's the last day you'll have to spend inside, nursing your body. Some movement in your periferral vision catches your eye, and you sweep your gaze back towards the fire pit and the ring of trees that surrounds it. Suddenly you realize why you couldn't find Seonghwa earlier.

Outside, on a lounging chair just to the left of the fire pit, Seonghwa and Hongjoong are kissing. They must have snuck out while the rest of you were occupied with the movie, you realize. You aren't sure how you missed them at first, but in the darkness of the storm and shadow of the trees they almost blended into the landscape. Seonghwa is sat against he back of the chair and Hongjoong is over him, a hand on Seonghwa's thigh. You see him move that hand to pull on Seonghwa's silky black hair, the kiss clearly passionate, heated. The rain patters down around them, but in the cover of the trees they don't look soaked. They certainly don't look bothered. You can't tell, really, from this far away. You shouldn't be trying to look that hard, anyway. You try to tell yourself that. But you're mesmerized, stuck to the spot. You feel overcome with how beautiful they both are.

Soon they're tugging at each other's shirts, and you can tell now from the way they take them off that they must pretty damp. In the struggle you see Hongjoong's muscular back and arms; Seonghwa's face is the picture of lust, his hands moving down quickly to reach inside Hongjoong's pants and start stroking him. They're kissing again, Seonghwa's lean chest heaving, Hongjoong grabbing his legs to wrap them around himself. Tangled together they look like a perfectly choreographed ballet, like they both know exactly where the other is headed. You see Hongjoong's hips start to buck, his mouth moving down to Seonghwa's ear, then neck, his iron grip on Seonghwa's thigh leaving a mark you can see all the way from the window. Seeing the red mark brings a heat to your cheeks; the image of your porcelain doll of a friend being marked up by such a muscular man is not something you thought you'd ever witness. Now that you have, you can't help but think they're perfect together. Suddenly Hongjoong is sitting back, his hands pulling on the band of Seonghwa's shorts and throwing them aside, and you see how hard Seonghwa is, his movements showing how obviously needy he is.

Fuck, I really should stop watching them, you think. You'd seen them both naked before, it's not like your friend group was uncomfortable with much. But this was obviously different, and the way your body was feeling while you witnessed it made you feel a confused and a little guilty. Still, you could not pull yourself away, as you saw Hongjoong lean down over Seonghwa and say something, and Seonghwa's lips curl up in a smile, his head turning to the side as he grabbed onto Hongjoong's arm. They looked so, so in love. With Seonghwa's legs spread Hongjoong reached down, his hand moving between his cheeks, moving in a way you could not make out from your distance. Seonghwa's head fell back in obvious pleasure, and his back arched slightly showing off his lean abdomen. Hongjoong moved his head down to suck on one of his nipples, making Hwa's back arch even further and his mouth fall open. He looked so completely content in such a vulnerable state, and it made your heart ache with happiness. In all of the conversations you'd had with him over the years, you knew he always felt so self-conscious in these situations. It was always shocking to you, given just how beautiful he was. He got propositioned out in public more than anyone in your group, and had to continually turn people down given the industry he worked in. But all of that attention felt uncomfortable to him, usually, and you knew that. To see him so unabashedly open with someone was a rare sight.

Hongjoong's hand moves up and then you see, a tiny glint of something metal in his hand. It must have been a plug Seonghwa had inside himself already. When had he put that in? It must have been after the game, so before the movie? When did he even have the time? You can't stop watching the way Hongjoong lines himself up, stroking a hand through Seonghwa's hair again, finally pushing himself in ever so slowly. The plug sits next to them on the lounging chair, and you swear the gem on the end twinkles at you. He starts thrusting slowly, kissing Seonghwa's cheek, the rain starting to pick up again. It all feels so cinematic, like it couldn't have been more perf-

"What are you looking at?" Yunho whispers into your ear, sliding up behind you. You jump, spinning away from the window and covering your eyes, your elbow hitting him in the ribs.

"Oh god, ow," he says, grabbing his side.

"You scared me," you pout, your head feeling full of molasses from all of the feelings you are having.

"I whispered," he replied. "Why are you so jumpy, are you okay? Why did you you leave the couch?"

"I was cold, I was gonna grab your hoodie. But then, the window, you know, it was pretty outside with the storm and stuff," you reply, averting your eyes.

"Seems like my hoodie is in danger of being re-homed," he replies. He's trying to joke around to lighten your mood, which is obviously not good at the moment. Your eyes on the floor make him worried, and you really don't seem yourself. Or rather, you seem like how you are when you aren't feeling well.

"Here, why don't we look out the window together?" he offers, turning you around to face it again, wrapping his arms around you to try to help you feel warm.

"Oh god, Yunho, no," you mumble as he turns you, and you start stepping out of his reach, mortified at what he's about to see. You feel his arms stretch out and his body begin to move with you, but then he halts.

"Oh, that's what you were looking at," he laughs under his breath, making you cringe. You hope he leaves it at that, that he doesn't say anything else. But soon he opens his mouth again. "Oh god, that's crazy," he says, and you look back to see his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He looks almost horrified, and you wonder for a moment if he's even seeing what you think he's seeing, or if it's something else entirely. With a confused look on your face you scoot towards the window again, to catch a glimpse of whatever has him so shocked.

As soon as your eye line reaches Seonghwa and Hongjoong you too feel a shock, at just how hard Hongjoong is thrusting into him now, his hand on Seonghwa's neck. No longer do the two look like a balletic couple; instead one has clearly submitted to the other. You know from conversations with him that Seonghwa likes being taken like this, or at least has always liked the idea of it. He'd told you many times how he'd never really had any partners he trusted enough to go there with, but that he wished he could. You feel strangely proud of him, as you realize he'd had to have a difficult conversation with Hongjoong to make this happen.

"Yunho, stop," you say, tugging on his arm to pull him into the library with you.

"You saw what I saw, right?" he asks, his voice still low but sounding mildly concerned.

"Yeah, why?" you ask, seeing his hoodie on the corner of the pull out couch and making a bee line for it.

"You just, don't seem concerned," he says.

"Why would I be concerned?" you ask, your eyebrows knitted together. You really don't know why he'd have a problem with the two of them being together, but suddenly you worry there's something about Yunho that you didn't know.

"Hongjoong was being so aggressive with him," he says, voice even softer.

"Oh, Yunho, he-" you cut yourself off, not wanting to overshare. You're so thankful he doesn't have a problem with them for any other reason. "It's not really my place to share but, let's just say I know he likes that. I'm sure he asked for it."

"Well, I guess that makes a lot of sense," he laughs, his relief palpable. You cock your head to the side, looking confused. "Oh you know what I mean," he continues. "Hwa is so professional, pretty, put together all the time. Of course he likes being taken like a whore."

"Yunho, what the fuck," you say, shoving your face in his hoodie to try to cover up your laugh. You can't help finding what he said hilarious, and his read of Seonghwa is completely spot on. But you can't believe the words actually left his lips. "How can you say that about him?"

"You're the one who was standing and watching them for what, five whole minutes? I waited a while to come and check on you," he says, staring you down as you finally put on his hoodie, your hair a mess under the hood.

"God, please don't tell anyone," you groan into your hands. "It's weird, I know, I'm sorry. I just, they seem very compatible, and I'm happy Hwa has found someone like that. I don't know."

"It's not weird, I know you like watching that kind of stuff," he replies.

"I do not, what are you talking about?" you reply, your cheeks feeling warm again.

"Ok I know it's only one example, but remember our school trip senior year? When those people in the hotel across the street were fucking and they left their curtains wide open? You couldn't stop staring."

"I'm never living that down," you sigh.

"There's nothing wrong with doing that, at least I don't think so. If people are fucking in public then they know someone might see. They probably even like the idea," he says, chuckling.

"I'm not a big pervert who reads smut all the time and likes watching people fuck," you pout, hitting him on the arm.

"I know," he murmurs, pulling you into a hug. "I'd still love you if you were, though."

Love. Your heart stops at the word for a moment, and you don't know why. You'd said it to each other thousands, probably tens of thousands of times in the ten years you'd known him. But now it's making you feel like your heart has fallen into your stomach, and you might puke it up. You sag against Yunho, pains wracking through you again. You almost feel relief, at realizing the feeling was just your cramps.

"I don't feel good," you groan into his chest.

"I know, I could tell," he says, rubbing a hand along your back.

"How?" you ask, tensing in anticipation of his answer.

"Cause you're being kind of weird with me today," he sighs out, hugging you even more tightly.

"I'm sorry," you say, having known it would be his answer. It was the thing him and Seonghwa had helped you realize; no matter how much you could hide the physical symptoms of anything, the changes in your personality were always there when you weren't feeling well. And those two, knowing you as well as they did, always picked up on it.

"Do you want to go back out there? Or stay in here?" he asks you.

"I just want to lay in here for a bit, by myself," you say, not wanting to expose him any longer to your sour mood. "I'll come out for dinner, can you let me know when everyone's eating?"

"Of course," he says, lifting you up and placing you on your bed. In the comfort of the library everything feels so intimate, and you tug him down to come lay with you too, for just a second. Wrapped around each other you both sigh, Yunho nuzzling his face into your neck and leaving a gentle kiss. He feels overcome with concern, his heart wanting to stay next to you like this, forever. But you'd said you wanted to lay by yourself. He pulls himself up, tightening the strings of his hoodie slightly and pulling your blanket over your shoulders. As he leaves he walks gently, trying not to make any sound. In the hallway he glances briefly out the window, to see Seonghwa smiling, him and Hongjoong cuddled up together in a gentle embrace.

***

Dinner passes in a blur, your entire body feeling achey and your head starting to hurt. You'd taken your pills, drank water; there was nothing else you could do. When Yunho came to get you you'd almost declined, almost asked him to bring you food in bed. Your bleeding was definitely slowing down, but your body was feeling weaker today, and your mind was all over the place. Throughout dinner you felt like you might start crying at the smallest thing, and you clung onto Seonghwa to keep yourself from doing so. Everyone could tell you weren't feeling well, Yunho and Seonghwa rubbing your back as you sat cross legged at the large coffee table in the living room, slowly sipping at your soup. When Wooyoung brought you the bowl he had leaned down to hug you, seeing just how out of it you were.

"You don't have to stay out here with us if you don't feel well," Seonghwa said, running his hand through your hair. You leaned against him, slowly blinking to try and calm yourself.

"I don't think I can walk right now," you said, your legs hurting terribly.

"I can carry you," Yunho piped up, downing his last bite of food. "Do you want to go lay down again?"

You nodded your head, the light in the room feeling too bright despite how dim it was. You bring your hands up to cover your eyes.

"Ok, let me clean up our dishes and I'll take you to your bed," he said, standing up with your bowl and his plate in hand. When he returned he gently grabbed your hands, moving them around to the back of his neck, and then moving your legs out in front of you, scooped you up in one fluid motion. You rest your head on his chest, burying your face into his hoodie that you're still wearing.

"Feel better, we love you," Ari said, a twinkle in her eye as she watched Yunho carrying you from the room.

"I love you too," you respond weakly. You feel yourself fading, but suddenly your teeth feel too gross to sleep. "Wait, I need to brush my teeth," you tell Yunho, groaning in frustration.

"Okay, no worries," he says, his voice gentle. He walks you to the bathroom and sets you down on the toilet seat, prepping your toothbrush for you, then helps you stand to spit everything out when you're done. "Wait, I need to pee," you say, holding onto his arm tightly. He helps you sit down again, helps take off your pants and panties. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry you have to help me like this," you say, your words nearly slurring together. You're really sounding out of it, and he feels himself in that space he gets in, when you're so broken down and he's the one there to comfort you.

"Shh, it's okay," he says, brushing a tear that fell down your cheek.

"No it's not, I'm a fucking mess," you continue, more tears starting to fall. "Why can't I figure out my damn body, why does it always catch me so off guard? It must be so weird living with me," you cry, everything tumbling out in waves.

"Y/n, listen to me. Everything is okay, I'm gonna get you to bed and you'll feel better tomorrow, I promise. You are not weird to live with, you're wonderful to live with. Are you hearing me?" he asks, moving your face up to make eye contact with him. "How did I get so lucky to know you?"

His kind words only make you cry harder, and you can't stop even as you get up from the toilet and try to steady yourself. He opens the door and picks you up again, carrying you finally to your bed to lay down. In bed your body feels heavy, like you're made of lead. You haven't felt this tired in a while, and you think sleep might envelop you immediately. But the pain radiating down your thighs and up through your stomach is too bad, and you toss and turn, unable to relax as Yunho readies himself for bed.

"Y/n, what do you need?" he asks, seeing your constant movements and pained expression.

"My legs to stop hurting," you mumble. Without even opening your eyes you raise your arms out to grab at him, even though he isn't right there. Your body is moving desperately again, and something about being with him in this room makes you loose all inhibitions. "Please make them stop hurting Yuyu," you plead.

"What would help, baby?" he asks, his body feeling electric. He moves over so you can grab him; he'll follow any request you have, do anything for you.

"Touch me, again, please," you beg, your thighs and pussy aching. Yunho again grabs a towel for you, gently placing it down on your bed and smoothing it out, lifting your hips to move you onto it. You keep making little sounds of desperation, unable to stop yourself. 'I know, I know, just relax baby,' he whispers to you, watching the way your face softens at the pet name. Soon your lower half is entirely naked, and he's massaging your legs, gently brushing past your cunt a few times, making you mewl from neediness. He wants to make you feel better but he also likes seeing you like this, likes hearing you beg for him. He wasn't prepared last night for what it did to him, and he thinks he's probably already addicted to that feeling.

Finally he slowly pushes a finger in, making you moan and sigh, the relief instant. Your reaching out to pull at his face, pulling him in to kiss him hard, your breath mixing as you open your mouth to slide your tongue across his. You moan at the feeling, his tongue wet and hot, making your clit throb. 'More,' you plead, your body feeling even more opened up than the previous night, even more ready to take everything he can give. He slowly adds a second digit, not wanting to hurt you, but he can tell your desperation is high and you're needing to be well and truly fucked. 'More, more,' you almost cry, your cunt clenching hard onto his long fingers, your hips rocking to match his movements. He inserts another finger, moving slowly again as to not hurt you. Desperately you claw at his back, hands reaching underneath his shirt, leaving marks in their wake. Yunho groans at the feeling, his own cock throbbing at how needy and wet you are. 'Faster, please,' you beg. The little sounds you let out are making him harder and harder; he starts rubbing himself against your leg as he fucks you with his fingers, his cock so hard it's starting to feel like torture.

"More, please Yuyu," you beg again, tears forming in your eyes from how good it all feels.

"More fingers? You feel so tight baby," he asks you, barely able to move his hand with how hard you're clenching down on him.

"No, need you inside me," you babble, feeling how hard he is against your leg. Yunho slows his movements a bit, propping himself up on his elbow to talk to you. He wants nothing more than to fuck you right then, but there's just one problem.

"Baby, I didn't bring any condoms with me," he huffs out, his frustration obvious.

"You should have," you whine, turning your face away from him but still moving your hips against his hand.

"How was I supposed to know this was gonna happen?" he asks, laughing.

You just whine again, eyes even more teary now at the thought that you might not get what you want, and you move your hands up to cover your face. Yunho stops his movements when he sees your disappointed face, sitting himself up to look down at you. He takes his free hand and gently brushes a hair out of your face.

"You really need me to fuck you right now?" he asks, earnestly. You nod your head, looking at him through the gaps between your fingers, your lips in a pout. Yunho groans and throws his head back, your sweet and needy face making him want to do every dirty thing he can think of. "Okay, I'll be right back," he says, slowly pulling out of you. You whine in disappointment, your pussy feeling devastatingly empty. "Just sit tight for a few minutes, I'll be right back," he says, kissing your forehead.

After cleaning off his hand Yunho walks through the cabin, trying hard to go unnoticed as he passes through the living room to the master bedroom. Everyone still seems to be awake except Hongjoong and Seonghwa who lay cuddled on a couch together; Wooyoung and his cousin Yeosang are playing what appears to be a very heated card game of some kind, while the other boys watch or scroll their phones, everyone clearly winding down for the night. He's thankful to not see Ari or San present; they must be in their bedroom as he'd hoped. His heart races from how potentially awkward this interaction could be, but he feels like he's on autopilot and there's no possibility of turning back. Not when you had begged him like that, and looked at him the way you did. There was no way he wouldn't find some sort of solution to his problem.

He knocks on the door gently, hoping he's not disturbing a private moment between the two.

"Yeah?" he hears Ari ask, sounding sleepy.

"It's Yunho, can I come in for just a sec?" he asks, trying to sound casual. He doesn't want to raise any alarm bells for them, or for any of the boys in the living room who might be overhearing. And if it had just been Ari, or one of the other friends he'd known for so long it might not feel too awkward. But there are three new people on the trip this year, and he isn't sure how comfortable they would be.

"Yeah, come in," she responds. Yunho turns the door handle slowly, hoping to avoid making any loud noise. Slowly pushing open the door, he spots San in the chair in the corner, reading over something on his laptop in front of him.

"Hey, sorry this is, well, random. Do you guys happen to have a, uh, condom I could borrow?" He spits it out, not wanting to waste a second.

"Oh, yeah, uh, let me see what I've got," San replies, closing his laptop and setting it on the bed before unzipping a small pocket in his suitcase. "Here just take this box, I brought two with me," he responds.

"Are you sure?" Yunho asks. He's frankly taken aback by how casual San is being about this, and by his generosity on top of it all.

"Yeah, of course. I've got plenty and I'm glad you're asking. It's always better to be safe," he responds, a genuine smile on his face.

"Be careful with her," Ari adds, unable to stop herself. "She's very fragile."

"I'm not going to hurt her, you know that," he replies, looking at her almost coldly. He feels slightly offended at the idea that she thinks it's a possibility, after all of the years she'd known him, seen him taking care of you.

"I know. I just had to say it, she needs all the protecting she can get," she says, remembering the state you were in during dinner. "I'm sorry if that was rude. I'm- I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to ask us," she finishes, hoping she didn't cross some sort of line with him.

"She's very capable of asking for what she needs," Yunho replies, wanting to stick up for you. But his face is soft, he isn't mad.

"Which is, that?" Ari gestures at the box of condoms in his hand, trying to hold back laughter.

"Okay, that's enough," Yunho laughs, looking away from her towards the door. "Thank you both, sorry if I made that weird."

Out the door he makes his way through the living room, trying to hide the box under the hem of his shirt. Mingi is the only one who glances up to see him, registering the shape of the box underneath his shirt. He's pretty sure he knows what it is, and he smirks to himself, too tired to say anything about it. But he's happy his friend is finally getting what he's wanted.

"I'm back," Yunho whispers when he reenters the room, your face and body awash in the gentle white light from the moon. He makes quick work of opening the box, removing one condom and throwing it on the bed. In a second he's on you, peppering your face with kisses, moving his hands underneath your shirt to pull it off.

"I'm so bloated," you say, breathless.

"I need to see you," he responds, not giving you any room to keep talking about yourself that way. You tug on his shirt as well and he reaches up, pulling it off and throwing it on the floor. In the moonlight he looks pale, his long torso perfectly shaped and beautifully lean. You bring a hand up to stroke along his stomach, feeling the strong muscles underneath his skin, brushing across a small happy trail going down from his belly button into his pants. You tug on his pants too, your neediness having only grown in the few minutes he was gone. The idea of laying stark naked in front of anyone, especially in your bloated, sickly state would normally make you shudder, but in this moment you feel free, ready to take anything. He moves down to kiss you again, passionately, his tongue forcing you to open your mouth wide, his hands possessively grabbing you. Him kissing down your neck has you moaning, nearly writhing underneath him. He moves up to whisper to you, biting your earlobe gently and making you moan louder.

"You're so perfect," he whispers, the words cascading down you like a soft warm rain, any worry you had completely melting away. You tug at his pants again, helping him move them down and finally, completely off. Quickly he rolls on the condom; carefully he lines himself up with your entrance, moving his stiff cock up and down our slit, already feeling how warm and wet and ready you are. Finally he presses in, achingly slowly, until he's fully seated inside of you, the muscles of your cunt being deliciously stretched in a way they never have before.

He's big to be sure, clearly just the perfect size, stretching you just the way your body needed. Slowly he pulls out, then soothingly pushes himself back in, his cock hitting every perfect place inside you. Your mouth falls open at the feeling; you've never felt so full, so complete. He moves a hand down to your hip, anchoring himself so he can start a slow rhythm, his head buzzing with how good it all feels.

"Baby, you're so tight, fuck," he says as he tries to find a consistent pace. "Does that feel good?" he asks, eyes not leaving your face.

"Yes, yes, fuck, Yunho," you mumble, not able to form a coherent sentence.

"Relax for me then, you're so tight I can barely move," he says, trying to find the perfect angle to make your body completely give in. Quickly he readjusts himself, moving his knee to lower his angle, adding more strength to his movement. You moan, clearly feeling even better than before, so he knows he needs to lower the angle even more. "Baby, lift your hips for me," he says, grabbing a pillow from beside you to move underneath your lower back. Once you're situated he kisses you again, acutely aware of just how surrendered you are to him, words no longer forming on your lips. Slowly he adjusts his knee again, his hand still on your hip anchoring you, and he begins fucking you again from his new angle.

The immense pleasure is immediate, your back arching and your head rolling back, your moans so loud you're probably being heard throughout the rest of the cabin. But Yunho doesn't care, he's not thinking about that. All he's thinking about is the way he feels your pussy pull him in even more, your hips and thighs finally relaxing some, your whole body reacting to his change in movement.

"Shit, there you go," he praises you, feeling your legs wrap around his back, pulling him in. He's been so careful with you, so focused on not hurting you, but he can tell you need more, so he starts fucking you harder, his face nuzzling in your hair to take in everything he loves about you. He can feel the muscles of your pussy start to clench again, but it's different this time; the flutter against his cock drives him crazy, making him thrust into you even harder. Soon he feels the muscles clenching hard, your moans reaching their peak, your hands a vice grip on his arm and back.

"Good girl, let yourself come," he coos, holding you as close to him as he can, kissing your cheek and nose. It's the most heated moment, he feels himself about to come undone too, but suddenly he's overcome with fondness, a warmth flowing through his chest, making him feel emotional.

"Fuck, I love you." The words tumble out of him without warning and your own chest warms, just as your orgasm starts blooming through you, your legs shaking as Yunho continues to fuck you. You're moaning and mewling, unable to say a single actual word, but you wish you could tell him just how perfect everything is, how you haven't came like that, ever. In the heat of the moment everything felt right, and to hear him say something so sweet just as you reached your climax made it all feel even better. His tight grip on you, the way he's nuzzled into your body, it makes you feel safe and grounded and so fucking horny.

Yunho comes just after you do, his thrusts becoming inconsistent, his body going taught and then absolutely limp on top of you. You both breath deeply, your chests heaving in the quiet coolness of the room. You wish you could bottle this feeling, the way your body is limp and buzzing with pleasure, his weight on top of you making your usually busy brain filled with nothing but the feeling of him. It feels peaceful, almost spiritual. You both rest for a few minutes, not moving a muscle, except when Yunho reaches over finally to kiss you again, making you giggle.

"How are you feeling?' he asks, still not daring to move.

"So good," you slur out, a dopey smile spreading across your face.

"Good," he replies, wrapping himself around you like he loves to do. "Can I pull out of you?" he asks.

"Mhmm," you respond, moving your legs to allow him to move. He cleans you up and helps you redress, stopping every few seconds to kiss you again, tickling you too when he realizes you're in the mood for it. It takes a while for you to come back to yourself, your mind so foggy from everything that had happened. But finally, once he'd gotten you both totally ready for sleep and wrapped himself up behind you, you found you could actually speak.

"I love you too," you whisper, squeezing his hand that rests on your belly. He just cuddles you closer, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Not to be a downer, but I actually finished my novel and now I’m confused because I don’t want to publish it. I don’t even particularly want anyone other than maybe my two close friends to even read it. What on Earth did I write 40k words (which I know is not really long enough for a novel, but it’s still far and away the longest thing I’ve ever written) for? I know people say “write for yourself” but like… am I just wasting my time? Help?

(p.s. you can leave this off anon)

(p.p.s your blog is really great 👍)

There's No Such Thing as Wasted Writing

I'm going to tackle this two ways...

#1 - "Write For Yourself" - there's a reason this common phrase has echoed through the Hall of Writers since time immemorial. It's because it's true! Writing doesn't have to be anything more than a pastime. It doesn't have to be anything more than something you do for your own benefit and enjoyment.

I have an in-joke with family members about how any time one of us does something the least bit crafty, DIY, skilled, whatever, a particular family member will always say, "You did a great job! You should do it for a living!" Like, someone can't even crochet a Kawaii mushroom without being pressured to turn it into an Etsy dynasty, or paint a cabinet without being pressured to become the next Property Brothers. And that's such a BANANAS capitalistic mindset, isn't it? This idea that nothing can be done purely for our own enjoyment. That you can't just write a novel because you want to... you can only write it if you plan to share it or publish it? It's just so silly.

And, the thing is, we don't even apply that mentality to a lot of other things people do purely for enjoyment. No one is streaming all of Bridgerton in two nights and saying, "I enjoyed every second of that, but why did I do that? Such a waste of time!" No one spends an hour strumming their guitar under the stars on a beach, and then says, "That was so relaxing and fun, but I didn't charge for that performance and I didn't record it to sell it, so that was obviously a waste of time."

You know what I mean?

#2 - And Anyway, Practice Makes Perfect - And if you keep writing--even if you continue not to share or publish--you'll get better and better with each story you write. Which, maybe all that means is you get to appreciate your own improvement, but also, should you ever change your mind and decide to write something to share or publish, you've now spent time honing your skills. Even if those other stories never see the light of day, they're still an important foundation of the writer you become. Do you know how many unpublished novellas, novels, and short stories I have? Too many to count. Hundreds of fan-fiction and original fiction short stories I've only shared with one or two other people, if anyone. A dozen or so novels and novellas that have only been read by a few people, and some haven't been read by anyone else or have only been read by my CPs. I would never consider those stories and novels and novellas to be a waste of time, because I know every single one made me a better writer. My published work is better because I wrote those other things.

So, I hope that makes you feel better. At the very least you hopefully enjoyed writing your novel--or at least got something out of it--and you definitely honed your writing skills, which matters! ♥

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[007reid]

So, still in the au of “secrets: Spencer Reid”..

I wanna see the teams reactions to reader and how cute Spencer is with her and how protective she is of him. Maybe Spence gets a little drunk and reader has an arm locked around him with a possessive scowl on their face. Pleeaasee??

you ask and you shall receive! i’m glad you enjoyed secrets, anon<3 sorry this is so late :(

secrets p. 2. spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader

part 1 | part 2 ♡ this can be read as a stand-alone though!

summary: everyone expected spencer’s plus one to be his grandma or a close friend visiting. to see him show up with you hanging off his arm, clad in a black dress and rubbing your blood red lips together, you become the talk of the night.

warnings: fluff fluff just straight fluff!! spencer introducing his gf to the fam, teasing, drinking, flirting , nothing out of da norm. r is tough and possessive and spencer is basically her girlfriend.

a/n: someone take pinterest away from me because i’m getting too good at scouring for mgg stills and staring at them for hours. tell me you didn’t stare at that picture too.

spencer texted morgan that night, telling him that he’s bringing a plus one. morgan responded with a curt “yea bring ur ma on over why not.”

it appears that morgan did not take spencer that seriously. so he texted garcia, and she responded with “which member of the family havent we met? ❤️” spencer was just midst of falling on to his knees.

the day rolls around and spencer dreads it, plots a plan to make you watch a star wars movie marathon so that you’d fall asleep by the time of the event. he’s not a social recluse, by any means (okay so sometimes he is) but he prefers an evening staying in over going out. and it’s sunday evening, too, and he just wants an early night and to kiss you lazily until he’s sleepy. he doesn’t want to start the car, doesn’t want to get dressed up and get tidy for the bar. doesn’t wanna go anywhere.

the marathon plan backfired on him. just as you’re halfway through the third movie, you start pushing the throw blanket off your bodies, nudging spencer’s arms off of you. spencer whines, and he tries to make himself look extra pathetic (which didn’t take much, considering how he’s already desperate to get out of meeting the team) so that you’d pity him.

you don’t fall for his act one bit, which is extremely humbling to spencer. his puppy eyes used to work on you, but he suppose you’ve grown an immunity to them. “lazy boy,” you chides. he hides his face in the crook of your neck and you laugh. “come on, we’ll be late.”

“fashionably late,” spencer quips. you laugh again, detangling your bodies and press a kiss on his cheek before leaving the living room. spencer sits on the couch for a while and contemplates.

he does end up dragging his ass off the couch and freshen himself up. you have decided to use the guest bathroom for some reason, and he gets ready by himself, shaving before throwing on a simple burgundy sweater with all kind of patterns on it and some black pants, smoothing his hair out a bit and tucking them neatly behind his ears.

he rubs at his chin, looking at himself in the mirror. he looks like a middle school civics teacher, but he couldn’t careless.

he grabs his phone and slides it in his back pocket, going to the closed guest bathroom door. he knocks softly, leaning in close to not miss your voice.

“yn?”

“almost there,” you respond through the door.

“can i come in?”

“uhh,” spencer frowns. it’s unusual you’re doing this. you guys have shared an apartment for five months now, and he’s basically learned to lived around your life, to always have you wherever. getting ready apart is definitely unusual, and you’re being hesitant about letting him in, even.

maybe you’re still mad about the lila thing. he should apologize the moment he gets the chance.

“sure honey,” you say finally. spencer cautiously opens the door, and you’re sitting on the bed, pulling up your black pantyhose. he melts and perks up simultaneously at the sight of you.

you’re wearing a shiny, black silk dress that goes halfway down your thighs, the material pooling on the white sheets as you adjusts the pantyhose, reaching for your matching black leather mary janes. spencer looks down at himself, feeling timidly underdressed. you look up and smile at him so easily as if you're not the most beautiful woman in the world.

spencer feels his throat clog up. he clears it but when he speaks his voice is still blurry. "hi."

"hi," you buckle up your mary janes, gold necklace hovering above your knee. spencer stands awkwardly at the door, too entranced to move. you look up when he doesn't answer immediately, and breathe out a laugh when you see the dumb, starstruck look on his face. "gonna stand there all night baby?"

"mhm," spencer says absentmindedly. he finally bounces off the door frame and carefully sits himself on the bed next to you, cautious with every move. he immediately gets a faceful of the scent of your perfume and you look like an angel, smell like one too. "new dress?"

"mhm, thrifted it the other night," you respond. you stand up from the bed and do a small twirl, the thin fabric forming the shape of a flower, flying. you remind him of a black cherry blossom, if those even existed. "you like it? found it for four dollars. can you believe that? deal of a lifetime. if i had gotten to the thrift later someone would've snatched it right up."

to be honest, spencer isn't listening to a single word you're saying. he stares at you, and your silver hoops and crinkling eyes and the silver necklace he gifted you for your birthday five months ago and gets dizzy with the thought of how lucky he is.

"crazy deal," he says. then blurts. "you look beautiful."

you smile playfully. "you're just saying that," you laugh, smoothing out your hair in the mirror installed in the wardrobe. spencer stares at your reflection. "looking dapper yourself, doctor."

"do you think i should change?" he asks. because right now, it looks like you're both dressing up for different events. him to a school-based textbook debate conference and you to a high class art museum. neither events are the actual event you are both going to.

"you look handsome, spence," you reassure him. "that sweater. it suits you."

"it doesn't suit the bar," spencer grumbles quietly, still upset that he has to show up. he's not a bar man. more of a picnic or joinery kind of guy.

"you weren't born to suit whenever you're going," you say and then grab his hand. "we're gonna be late."

***

spencer gets even more grumbly when you both enters the bar, but you know in his heart he's extremely happy. he practically lights up when he sees his team crowding at a booth, dragging you along by the arm. he says hi to everyone, immediately comfortable just from the presence of his team except his excitement isn't mutual. the team isn't looking at him, but at you.

goggling like an eagle, some might say. you elbow spencer in the ribs. spencer looks at you questioningly, as if he doesn't know what to do.

"introduce me," you urge, feeling more awkward by the second. a man staring at you with his jaw on the table, beer frozen halfway to his lips you assume is morgan has a terrified look on his face. everyone does, actually.

"oh yeah. sorry," spencer says, ears turning slightly red but his beam is still bright. "everyone, this is yn. she's my girlfriend!"

"sweet mary jesus," morgan finally says. he breaks the ice, and the entire booth corrupts in excitement.

"reid, what are you doing? sit the lady down," jj scowl, scooting over and making space, squishing emily against her. spencer lets you slide in first, next to jj and he sits down after you, hand gentle at your waist. "why didn't you tell us?"

"well i tried to--"

"i really thought we had nothing to hide from each other. you know you could've trusted me with it!" garcia quips, her thick neon red earrings moving back and forth.

"i didn't do anything deliberate to hide it!" spencer defends himself snarkily.

"i couldn't deduce you had a girlfriend. i just thought someone who made you really happy started crashing at your place," hotch says, thoughtfully.

"let the girl talk," rossi rolls his eyes. spencer definitely captures their personalities well when he tells you stories about the bau, you recognize everyone just from a sentence. the table quiets and you can feel the warmness of eyes all on you.

"hi everyone," you could feel your cheeks getting warm from the attention. you wanted to make an impression, but it's hard. you go for the standard, "i've heard a lot about everybody."

"we would've loved to hear about you," garcia chirps. "but spencer is a very private soul. how long have you been together?"

the evening dissolves into small talk and teasing, and out of everyone in the bau, perhaps the one who's most shocked and proud of spencer is morgan. he sits back, arm tossed around garcia, admiring spencer like a pleased older brother seeing his baby brother ask for his car keys to take his new girlfriend out on a date. hotch has the same expression on his face, one of a proud dad.

he knew that something had been keeping spencer extra upbeat than usual, the lack of eye bags and how he's always energized and better put together. hotch couldn't place a figure on what it was, but now he realizes it was you. spencer almost glows, basking in the shower of your presence and hotch knows that under the table you and spencer are probably doing something cringy like rubbing circle-eights into each other's knees or holding hands under the table. the same thing he did when he was hopelessly in honeymoon love.

the entire table are happy for the both of you, but there's probably isn't anyone in the club more happy than spencer. he is lovesick and you're so beautiful, he can't help it. he feels more comfortable than he ever had been in a club, and that encourage him to knock more drinks down, have a little more fun.

"i'll grab the next round," you say, noticing that the beers in everyone's hands are getting lukewarm. you press a hand against spencer's thigh as you get up. spencer looks up at you, eyes wide and sweet. "i'll be right back."

as soon as you absorb into the crowd, the entire table startles in cheers and whistles. spencer glows red, partly from the alcohol. mostly from the attention. "my man!" morgan praises, knocking a punch into spencer's shoulder.

"ow!"

"she's beautiful," jj says approvingly. "she knows how to dress."

"i'm sayin'!" despite how much he denies it, derek is a horrible lightweight. he slurs. "how the hell did you bag her? tell us your secrets."

spencer blushes like a newly courted bride, going magenta all over.

"okay stop bullying the kid," emily says, but she's grinning wide.

"he definitely likes it," garcia giggles, pressed flat against morgan.

when you return, beers in your hand, the entire booth are giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls and your boyfriend is rambling, on and on. "sorry i took a while," you say, and within a flash everyone's grabbed beers for themselves, knocking the caps over. it's reached that point of the night when everyone's breath smells of beer, and the music is extra loud and everyone's extra dizzy. spencer latches onto you immediately the moment you sit down, staring at you with fucking moons in his eyes.

"i was just talking about you," he says, pupils wide. you know your boy is beyond drunk.

"yeah?" spencer nods. "what about?"

spencer hiccups and forgets the question. "wanna dance?"

a small smile creep on your face. it's unusual for spencer to ask, usually he doesn't even want to witness the act of people dancing together at all. "you sure?" you lock an arm around him. no one pays attention to the two of you, lost in their own conservations. spencer nods again.

"can we dance? let's go," he makes to move, pouting his lips but you slither your arms all over him, trapping him into you. "y/nnn," he whines.

"stay put for a bit for me okay?” you murmur, trying to distract him from the dancefloor.

it’s not like you oppose to dancing. hell, you love dancing, but ever since you stood up to grab the table drinks, you notice unwanted eyes across the bar glued on your boy, women with sharp eyebrows and pointy chins and short dresses, and you can never help the awful feeling that coils in your stomach.

jealousy is an irritating feeling to feel, and it’s telling you to dig your teeth into his neck and mark him all over for everyone to see and look away. but you won’t do that, because you have a slightest drops of decency you have saved up, and the least you can do is pamper spencer with kisses and grab onto his hand so tight he’d think of you instead of the inviting dancefloor.

spencer falls for it immediately, returning your kisses and whining pathetically against your lips, the alcohol making his head spin. spencer ‘s never been a fan of pda but he couldn’t careless now, hanging on you like a cat, dancefloor forgotten. you smile against his lips.

victory.

[moon7jay]

i keep thinking abt noncon w sunghoon like just imagine….

THIS. like idk but something about being helpless under sunghoon would fix me😩. Sorry it took so long anon but here u go!

Forced to take him (p.sh)

🫴Read part 2 here

Warnings : MINORS DNI, non-con, squirting, creampie, cheating, I guess that's it? , mentions of the word "RAPE"

It's non consensual so please if u are not comfy with it, DO NOT READ.

Your sister's boyfriend was weird to say the least. The first time your sister brought him to your shared apartment was last month and ever since then he has made it his second home. See you wouldn't mind this home invasion if only he didn't glare at you with the most intensity u have ever seen someone direct towards u everytime u were in his vicinity. Dead dark eyes following your every move as u pranced around the house.

Your sister's boyfriend was definitely weird, but you had never sensed any sort of danger from him, despite the hostile stares now and then, you never thought he could cause any real harm to u. Not until..

The first time it happened, you were in the kitchen. feeling a presence looming behind your back as u made coffee "lana why r u hovering" u spoke thinking it was your sister but a response never came. In mild curiosity u turned around and your breath hitched when your eyes met his dark dead ones. He was too close, way too close for it to be appropriate.

"W-what do u want? " U asked his tall figure hovering over you, looking anywhere but his eyes, they made u so nervous, like a prey.

He moved more closer to u, this made u look into his eyes, to assess his intentions but the dark glare that he was giving u made u tense up and press your back to the kitchen counter.

You were not expecting his big hands to wrap around your mid section, a gasp escaping your lips when he squeezed your mid section as if spanning your waist and stomach

"So small" he whispered as if in a trance. Your eyes widened but u were frozen, unable to move or speak, something told u that if u upset him, u could end up bloody on the ground. Tears gathered at your waterline, threatening to fall from your eyes as he kept squeezing more and more.

"I'll have a field day forcing myself inside u" he whispered , his eyes not leaving what he was doing with his hands

The tears finally fell at his words and your mouth gaped like a fish, wanting to say something, scream, anything, wild eyes looked up at your face and all breath left your lungs when he smiled at u in an almost maniacal way

"So pretty when u cry aren't u, it drives me crazy, You drive me crazy" he said moving in to lick your tears, making u shudder and close ur eyes, trying to move your face away from him but a large hand came up to hold the back of your neck to keep u in place and u squeaked when his other hand started groping your ass.

You were full on sobbing now as he moved his tongue to your neck and collar bones, your hands holding on to the edges of the kitchen counter in a deathly grip. His teeth punctured your delicate skin making a pained cry leave your lips and that seemed to catch his attention as he stopped doing what he was doing and stepped back all of a sudden. He stared carefully at your heaving form before walking out of the kitchen like it was a normal Tuesday.

As soon as he was out of sight, your knees buckled and you fell on the kitchen floor, sobbing and trying to catch your breath.

Your sister's boyfriend was weird. And you should have told your sister about it, you should have confronted him, you should have taken his words more seriously, you should have sensed the impending danger, you should have... But you didn't.

The next time it happened, u had just gotten home from classes, hearing weird noises in the living room, your feet moved towards it.

Nothing could have prepared u for the sight in front of you. Your sister was spread open on the couch as her boyfriend fucked into her, her legs over his shoulders. A gasp escaped your lips which made sunghoon and your sister look at you. Your sister started pushing sunghoon out of her to apologize to u but sunghoon's thrusts only got harder as his eyes met yours, your sister struggling underneath him, telling him to stop, but all u could hear was static as his expression morphed into one of pleasure as he held eye contact with you, smiling lewdly at you as he came inside your sister. You turned on your heel and ran up to your room, locking it and leaning against the door to catch your breath.

What the fuck was that.

Outside, you could hear your sister yelling at him but the next second you could hear her moans of pleasure again.

Your sister's boyfriend was so weird.

The sound of your door closing woke u up. Sitting abruptly to look around your darkened room.

"lana is that you? " you asked as u turned to ur bedside to turn the lamp on.

Your eyes met his dark ones and your palms started sweating. Sunghoon stood at the edge of your bed, scanning your skimpily dressed body like a predator. Before you could say anything, he started to unbutton his shirt

"What-what the fuck do u think you're doing? " your voice shook as you asked him

"fucking you" Is what the reply came.

"You c- can't" tears started to gather in your eyes again, why were you so scared of him??

"I'll scream, lana will find out, she'll kick you out" You tried threatening him confidently as he unbuckled his belt, his naked chest on display, you averted your eyes.

"she's passed out baby, some sleeping pills is all it takes" he whispered climbing up on the bed.

Your head could not register his words. He drugged your sister.

He drugged your sister to rape you.

You screamed as he grabbed your legs to bring you closer to him as he hovered over your body. His hands trapping you under him as you thrashed and hit him to let go. You did not see the slap coming, but your throbbing lip was enough to make u stare at him with wide eyes, ceasing all your movements.

"I can bleed you to death u know" He whispered scarily calm. His hand moving behind his jeans to pull out a shiny blade. Tears started falling from your eyes as you whimpered in fear of your life. Something in his crazed eyes told u that he had done this before. This wasn't his first time. Not his first time Raping someone. Not his first time Killing someone.

"Please... " u whispered, your lips trembling and bleeding from his strike.

He pressed the cold blade to your throat

"What's it gonna be baby? Want me to slit your throat so I can fuck you to death? or will u let me fuck your warm body while you're still alive? " He asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect

"Tell me. Dead or alive? "

"A-alive" u croaked, your body starting to shut down from the terror, the blade pressed to your throat making you numb to everything else.

He smiled and tsked in a disappointed way

"Damn u didn't fight much, was looking forward to some blood bath as we fuck" He chuckled and kept the blade back inside the back pocket of his jeans.

Hands started to grope your body, your night gown torn apart within seconds. You layed back and stared at the ceiling, having given up in trying to stop what was about to happen.

You were a virgin, you had been saving yourself for the love of your life. Park Jay. The smartest and kindest boy in your class. You had recently started flirting with him, letting him know you were intrested. You had thought countless times of this moment. But not like this.

Curious and rough hands squeezed your breasts making your breath get heavy, this was painful. His breathing was laboured too but for entirely different reasons than yours.

He leaned over you to press his chest to your tits. "Press them up against me cmon, need to feel them " He whispered in anticipation, you arched your back to do what he said, your nipples rubbing against his own, a hiss of pleasure leaving his teeth "good girl, such a good fuck toy for me"

His hands spread your legs apart and he quickly undid his jeans, just enough to fish out his hard cock. You prepared yourself for penetration, clutching onto your sheets as you watched him jerk himself off.

His teeth biting his lower lip as he stared lewdly at your spread and naked body

"Such a pretty fuck hole" He whispered before hastily slotting himself between your legs, hands grabbing your midsection like he did that day and the next thing you feel is an excruciating pain. A pain so intense as he forces his way inside of you. Your walls are dry but he doesn't even care, curses and whines falling from his lips and he bottoms out in you, tearing your hymen. You start to sob uncontrollably "s-stop please" U croak between sobs but it only causes him to grind more into u

"Beg more for me baby, beg me to stop" He grunts with a hard thrust inside you.

He rests his forehead against yours,hands resting beside your head, tongue darting out to lick your tears once again

"Gonna tear ur pussy so good"

"Like fucking virgins so much" He whispered and pulled all the way out to thrust back in, hitting your cervix in a painful way. A pained scream ripped out of you and he smiled in sick satisfaction. Soon his expression morphed into one of wild desire and pleasure as he kept thrusting inside of you, your body started secreting fluids which made his experience all the more pleasurable and he gritted his teeth at your tight walls

"you like being raped like this don't you? Keep fucking my dick just like that"

"Fuck it baby oh yeah, god so tight"

"It's fun isn't it? Feels so good doesn't it? Pleasure me come on, make me relieve my lust"

His words sound static to your ears as you come on his cock, your body betraying u once again, sobbing continuously, you keep taking his assault.

He groans like an animal when u dig your nails in his back, begging him to stop

"Yeah baby? Want me to stop? " His thrusts getting wilder, pounding your cervix

"ask me to stop, scream for me to stop baby, makes me so hard when u beg "

His dick keeps dragging against your walls in the mix of both pain and pleasure, his hands groping your body as he unleashes his inner animal to fuck into u however he wants, he's on his third orgasm but his dick is still hard in you

"You're gonna make me cum , I'm not the only one enjoying this rape yeah baby? Fuck yeah, squeezing around me so good"

You scream hard at a particular thrust and he laughs while panting

"Oh yeah? "

"Just like that? "

"fuck fuck fuck" he gasps as he comes inside your wet heat again. Fucking his come back inside of your leaking hole, overstimulating your body, your lower region feeling numb, your mind slipping in and out of consciousness.

You felt him pulling out, hissing as he observed your leaking and abused hole

"Fuck yeah" He breathed, turning your body around and mounting you again, thrusting deep inside of you, your face squished against your pillows as he breeds you from behind.

It's animalistic, the way he fucks you.

"Wanna keep it in u forever,can't stop, I can't stop"

"Pussy So good oh fuck"

He groaned, digging his teeth at the back of your neck, you were sure u were bleeding.

Your consciousness left u somewhere in the middle of his animalistic panting and grunts.

When u came to, u found yourself in a mating press, his face right above yours as he fucked u folded in half

"Ah u're awake sunshine, raping u so good yeah? "

He breathes and licks your lower lip. His hips moving relentlessly, grinding into u at a slow pace now

"Open " He panted and as if on autopilot, all strength leaving your body, u open your mouth

He spits in it "swallow" He says and u do. He curses and bites your lower lip as his thrusts become erratic

"Mhmnn fuck yeah, one more oh yeah"

He grunts as he fucks his cum into you. Making u squirt all over him.

His mouth lapping on your pussy is all u feel before u drift into unconsciousness.

Your sister's boyfriend is so weird.

[deanstead]

Marry That Girl

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Word Count: 600+

Tags/Warnings: none

A/N: Short one because I haven't released something for Jay in way too long! This has been sitting in my WIP drafts for the longest time so I finally got it written! An anon requested something similar for Will but since I had a half-written fic, I finished this and posting this instead! As always thanks to bestie @seatsbythepit for being my beta queen~!

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

You hadn’t thought this through.

It sounded like an innocent enough date when Jay had asked if you wanted to go watch the game. You hadn't been dating for long, and every day felt a little unreal in a ‘I can’t believe Jay Halstead wants to go out with me’ kind of way, and you appreciated every opportunity you got to spend with Jay especially since you never knew if he would have to go undercover or spend nights at the district trying to clear a case.

But now that the game was approaching, you were in a bit of a panic.

You enjoyed watching a game, but you didn’t always know what you were watching or doing, and you weren’t sure you were ready to let Jay see that side of you.

“Y/N, everything okay?” Kelly’s voice interrupted your internalized panic and you glanced up.

“Ah, I should have thought of you!” You proclaimed, earning yourself an eyebrow raise from the squad lieutenant. “I need your help.”

Kelly raised an eyebrow but chuckled before nodding toward his office.

You thanked all the stars that it was a quieter shift. After all, an entirely quiet shift didn’t exist at Firehouse 51. But at least that’s the way you liked it.

Kelly gave you a crash course, but not without reminding you that you owed him one. You spent the rest of the downtime studying it so that at least you’d have something smart to say, even though there were a few times you wondered what the hell you were doing.

Hard work indeed paid off.

You walked out of the game, feeling a little embarrassed as Jay’s friends gushed over you.

“Jay, you got a good one. My girlfriend doesn’t even want to come to games with me.” One of his buddies quipped.

Jay laughed, putting an arm around you and grinning. “Hey, should I be worried? What if you guys just call her for the games instead?”

The laughter rumbled through the group as they all nodded, teasing Jay that they’d rather call you instead of him in the future.

You really did owe Kelly one.

As his friends dispersed, calling that Jay had better bring you out for the next game, Jay’s phone rang.

You nodded at him, telling him he’d better take it, assuring him that you and Will wouldn’t leave him behind.

Jay took the call from Voight, glancing toward where you and Will were talking as he nodded. “Yeah, I got it. I’ll be right in.”

Jay could feel the dread in his gut, that felt just a little too much like guilt that he had to blow off again tonight even though he’d promised a nice after-game dinner and maybe some drinks and cuddling.

“This is why you don’t promise anything, Jay.” He mumbled to himself, before he walked back toward the both of you.

“Hey, Y/N, I…”

You glanced at the look on Jay’s face and just smiled. “Gotcha.”

“Sorry.” Jay couldn’t even say anything more because everything else in his head sounded like an excuse.

“I’m not saying I’m not disappointed, because I kinda am. But I get it. And if these were bells going off for the ambulance, I’d do the same thing you’re doing now. So, go.” You paused. “But you owe me a mind-blowing date.”

Jay laughed and nodded. “That, I definitely do.”

You shot him a huge smile and headed off toward Jay’s truck to wait because you knew he’d at least take you home before heading back down to wherever he was supposed to go.

Will watched the exchange with a mix of amusement and awe before he glanced at his younger brother.

“Jay?” Will called, before Jay and him headed off in different directions.

Jay glanced up at Will and Will smiled. “You better marry that girl.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

[saleeba]

fool ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ betting on the phenomenon of unrequited feelings, you and jude have never dared to make the first move with the other until a reunion forces new questions to be answered.

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, kissing, both jude & reader are pining idiots, fingering, p in v sex, marking, missionary, unprotected sex (jude pulls out but still pls practise safe sex!!)

a/n ♡ she's baaaack :D but first☝🏽alexa play fool by nct 127 !!!! the lyric "you’re a goddess but i’m a fool, what should i do?" was written for this fic in particular i just know it was :] anyway hehe this fic is based off this request so tysmm to anon for sending such an exciting prompt !! i hope yous enjoy 🫶🏽💗 WAIT P.S this isn’t proofread bc i lowkey am not rocking with it so i didn’t wanna put myself thru having to read it again & again … im sorry for any mistakes :’)

you had just gotten off work to a stream of relentless texts from your best friends’ groupchat — phone pinging off the rails whilst you were on shift, muffled buzzes from your bag making you wonder what on earth was worth blowing up in that whatsapp group on a random friday afternoon.

on the train back home, you tap open the green app, anticipating yourself easily spending the entire journey catching up on the three hundred-plus texts from your closest mates. you decide to start right from the beginning of the influx, thumb scrolling nonstop and eyes blurring from the rapid movement until they focus back on the screen where you stop, finally having reached the destination of the first text that set it all off. 

it was from none other than jude bellingham, and you were nearly embarrassed by the way your face instantly lit up upon reading his message. the groupchat’s golden boy had popped up after weeks of minimal contact, asking if he could take everyone for a night out tomorrow to make up for it, stating that he finally has some small gaps of free time between hectic pre-season schedules to allow him to do so.

it honestly warmed your heart that the first thing he wants away from football is to see you all. you’d been a band of good friends since the first year of secondary school, contact not necessarily strained as you all had a lot of love for each other but rather unspokenly reduced after leaving school two years ago and falling into busy university or career ventures.

instead of scrolling through to read and react to the plethora of follow-up texts after his, you ignore them and jump straight to typing your reply to his invitation, casting aside that nagging voice asking you: doesn’t that seem too desperate?

no, right? i’m just accepting his invitation, getting straight to the point, the convo ended half an hour ago anyway. you’re arguing with yourself now, feeling the need to give unnecessary excuses to nonexistent accusations. if you were to be honest with yourself, you were always self-conscious of the way you behaved around jude, even now debating on whether to add your signature heart emoji or if it’d come across as you trying too hard given your feelings for him; albeit them being feelings that no one knows about, not even him. you made sure for it to be that way.

with a mental note to get over yourself, you send an affirmative ‘i’m up for it!’, signature heart included, and quickly shut off your phone. heart beating so rapidly, you scolded yourself for getting so worked up over a mere reply and for definitely not getting over yourself. god knows how you’re going to handle seeing him in person. 

a sudden double buzz from your device does nothing to calm you down, instead dampening your hands with sweat when you grab it and see a pair of messages from him.

jude 🌟: heyy i’m so glad you can make it tomorrow :)

jude 🌟: can’t wait to see you!! ❤❤

he had messaged you separately for some reason and he had included two hearts… the overthinking starts for you again, without even beginning to think about what to reply this time, and you question why he couldn’t have just replied to you in the groupchat or why he couldn’t have just left the end of the messages with a ‘x’ like he usually does or why he would even say what he said in the last message. mind frantic and unable to clear itself, you thank yourself for having your read receipts turned off so you can have your mini meltdown without worrying about jude knowing you’d seen his messages multiple minutes ago. god, you were down so bad. 

you force yourself to open the messages app and send the most casual reply you can type.

you: can’t wait to see you too! ❤

you try to keep it short, sweet and nonchalant even if your fingers are itching to type more – more about how much you had missed him, more about what he was planning to wear tomorrow night so that maybe you could match your own outfit with him, more about your true, unfiltered feelings for him. it’s pathetic really; you hadn’t seen him in two years and the first thing you wanted to do was throw yourself at him, spilling all the secrets you’d been holding close for so many years. you leave it at that, put your phone on do not disturb mode and head on home, waiting for the long hours of friday evening to pass and saturday night to arrive.

***

and so saturday night rolls around and you just about finish touching up your makeup and smoothing out your dark blue dress before the doorbell rings, and you’re whisked away to the club by a couple of your girlfriends. 

as soon as you step your high heels into the building, you’re met with the sight of flowing booze and the noise of noughties r&b beats bouncing around the brightly lit walls. dragged by the hands of your friends, you find yourself standing next to a booth at the back of the club, the rest of the group now welcoming you latecomers with a loud cheer.

“finally, girls. you took your time!” one of your male friends remarks, ushering you all to sit down.

“oh god, what have we missed?” you beam, trying to scan the group amongst the strobing lights to catch a glimpse of the person you were really there for. 

“nah, you’re just in time because… first round’s on mister madrid!”

the callout breaks your friend group into a raucous holler as your gaze fixes onto the six foot-one footballer who stands up with an amused grin and a sigh of feigned defeat. your heart quickens and your smile turns into a state of near disbelief over how good jude looks right now – graphic white t-shirt hugging his biceps in all the right places and hanging over a pair of smart-casual black trousers.

“yeah, yeah, anything for my groupies,” he winks at no one in particular but your brain almost convinces you that he was looking at you while doing it. you send a shy smile his way just in case but what he says next has your mouth running dry. “help us out, will ya, y/n?”

you hesitate for a second too long for your liking, stumbling over your words while your friends peer at you. “uh… uh-huh, yeah, of course.” you answer as quick as you can, standing up on your feet slowly as to not trip over your now-shaking legs and send yourself flying into jude, and to avoid embarrassing yourself more than you think you already have.

he responds with a grateful smile and you follow him to the bar where he places an order for a round of drinks and some shots to be delivered to the group by the two of you. there’s an odd unfamiliarity to the silence between you both and you realise that you aren’t normally this quiet around jude, and neither is he around you; you would always joke that he’d be eligible to talk for england if he wasn’t already playing football for them. he’d retort with a comment about how his ears could almost fall off with the amount of chatting you do, and you’d dryly reply with a ‘well, they’re too big for your head anyway. look at the size of them!’ the pair of you were always as thick as thieves in the eyes of everyone else. which is why you didn’t expect it to be like this, especially after two years of not seeing each other – there was so much you wanted to catch up on from his world and so much you wanted to share from yours. you decidedly gain some courage and take the initiative to spark some conversation, get something going at least.

“soo, how have you been, then?” you’re both facing the bar, your head barely tilting in jude’s direction to indicate that yes, it is him that you’re talking to and not some random like he assumes you are with the way you’re positioned away from him, eyes just about turning to steal a glance of his figure but not to hold eye contact. “how’s la vida española?”

jude finds amusement in your sudden flaunt of the spanish language, a smile breaking out on his face, unseen to you since he’s still facing the same direction that you are, preoccupying his eyes with the myriad of bottles on the shelves while his mind searches for an apt reply.

“yeah, it’s been great, i think i wanna stay there forever,” jude laughs, his fingers tapping on the black surface of the bar. you can’t help the selfish feeling of your heart dropping at his confession. “i miss you, though, y’know… a lot.” 

this one confession forces your whole body to turn itself towards him, eyes now chasing after his to seek some form of sincerity, to see if he was just messing about or if he really meant what he just said. he shifts his head to face you now, a bashful look painted onto his features. the expectant silence says it all really; of course i mean it. 

you gulp and decide to break the quietness with a sarcastic, jesting “ugh…”, jude’s face dropping at what he thinks is genuine disgust from you. you realise your attempt to denounce the awkwardness has backfired.

“oh my god, you dickhead, i’m joking,” how is it that mere moments ago you were shaking at the sheer real-life presence of him but now you’d transformed into having this confident playfulness? and all of it without a drop of alcohol in your system as well – you’re quietly proud of yourself. “i missed you too, jude… a lot.” you coyly repeat his words. 

upon your turn of the confession, the bartender sets down your drink orders and the two of you wordlessly carry the trays over to where your friends are situated, the silence way more comfortable now that you’re both basking in assurance, unbeknown to the other that your hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour.

***

not even two hours and an innumerable amount of shots later, you’re all a drunken mess; definitely not a surprise to a single one of you. what is a surprise is the way you’re strewn across jude, right leg wrapped around his left, head on his chest, swirling and sipping from what’s clearly an empty glass to any sober, sane person. you grumble and mutter a complaint about the lack of liquor in the booth, taking it upon yourself to head to the bar and order another round for everyone.

“i’ll come with you,” jude announces over the pounding of the music, standing up so quickly that his next five steps are staggered and he has to cling onto your arm to steady himself. “i’m fine, i’m okay.” he assures nobody that asked.

the two of you stumble your way into the path of the bar, determined to drink until the sun comes up and forget every strand of stress until the hangovers come knocking. jude’s soft grip on your arm has you being led in the opposite direction all of a sudden, though. 

“uhm, where are we going?” you question, head still turned to where the bar is located, about to ask him if he was so hammered he couldn’t walk in a simple straight line to get to where you’d planned to go. “jude?”

he’s silent, save for humming his way to his desired destination, and you question if he even knows where he’s leading you. before you make the choice of going along with him or leaving his clearly confused self to go cop your next cocktail, you find yourself in the disabled toilets, pushed up against the sink with the door not even shut properly, gasping at how rough jude is handling your body compared to his soft touches from before, and how close his face is to yours, warm breath fanning the skin of your lips. you weren’t strictly against it all but how the hell have you ended up like this? The alcohol and the questions come at you fast, dizzying your brain but you can’t help but feel so keenly anticipative.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he pulls away from you, eyes fluttering closed so he can re-evaluate his actions, exhaling through his nose as if he was letting go of all doubts before continuing. “am i okay to do this?” he places his hands on your waist, pushing himself back into your space, his full lips more or less about to take yours. you have to refrain from letting the effects of alcohol take over your tongue and uttering back with a breathy ‘you can do whatever you want to me’.

instead, you answer with an earnest, eager nod, inviting his lips to finally do that one thing you had been dreaming of for so long, to kiss yours so silly that they’re left with the imprint of him. and jude does just that.

his mouth takes in yours so determinedly, shyness and hesitation now long-dissolved feelings for you both as your hands find home around the back of his neck, pushing his head further onto you, feeling the need to taste him more and more until you’re both consumed by each other. 

it’s a messy makeout, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but it’s oh so hot, the way he gasps into your mouth from breathlessness and pleasure, running and gripping his large hands over the material adorning your waist and hips as the need to rip it off you nearly overtakes him. to you, he’s so utterly intoxicating that a gallon of alcohol would pale in comparison to how dizzy his skin on yours makes you feel. 

you release a moan at the meagre thought of jude all over your body, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue over yours, filthy noises of wetness and carnality from the both of you reaching high pitch as jude somehow simultaneously pushes you against the sink and pulls you against his chest, his manhandling of you getting you even more hot and bothered before you’re both interrupted by the hub of people passing by and huddling right outside the bathroom, their self-occupied shouts and cheers dragging you out of the bubble that the two of you had wrapped yourselves in, almost sobering you up on the spot.

you push jude out of your way, gentle but abrupt, and give him a look of apologetic regret. “i-i’m sorry,” you say, jitterily walking past him and exiting the room without a second glance or word, heading straight to the booth where your friends are hollering and hurraying, occupied with shot-drinking contests. 

your girlfriends offer to go home with you when you lie and tell them you’re not feeling very well, but you decline them, instead telling them to have fun on your behalf and letting them know that you’ll try to text them once you get home safely. you can tell they’re confused by your shaken state and the absence of jude but you grab your bag and make your exit before the interrogation can even begin to brew.

you manage to grab a taxi back home, surprised by how competent you are despite the alcohol in your bloodstream and confusion in your brain. on the way there, you can’t stop the bouncing of your knee nor the racing of your psyche, asking yourself how and why whatever went down with jude went down like that. you curse at yourself for being so impulsive in starting and finishing the whole ordeal with him in the way that you did – you don’t know if it’s the empty, depressive drunk thoughts or just clarity from the whole jude thing that makes you feel like there’s no coming back from this at all. you feel like crawling into your bed and never coming out from it ever again. 

the taxi driver has to call for your attention multiple times until you reach earth again and pay him the journey’s fee. you go skulking all the way up to your front door, only letting out a breath that you feel like you’ve been holding since the beginning of the night once the door shuts behind you.

the rest of the night is quiet and orderly for you, telling yourself to not invite any more chaos into your brain and to simply drink some water and to go to sleep. waking up tomorrow morning is going to be painful in more ways than one.

***

you spend the rest of the weekend nursing a ferocious hangover and a frazzled heart, only contacting your friends to tell them that you got home fine and to joke that you probably need a century or two for this hangover to be gone. you thank the high heavens that they don't bring up the topic of you and jude 

you try not to think too much about jude, you really do, but sunday night has a couple of taps landing you on the instagram app and you learn that he’s already back in spain, pictures of him in training sliding across your phone screen on his story along with selfies with his teammates. usually, you tap that small red heart at the bottom and hope that he sees it amongst his millions and millions of notifications, a tiny ritual of yours that now has you feeling so pathetic that you don’t dare to do it anymore.

running a hand over your weary face, you set your phone down and opt to nap the night away, finding comfort in the non-intrusion from your friends and the no contact from jude, hoping to keep yourself busy and distracted with whatever the work week brings.

a ring from the doorbell rips through your flat just as you’re organising your pillows, forcing you to stop what you’re doing and ponder who could be at the door on a sunday while the clock ticks some minutes past one o’clock. you don’t recollect ordering any food nor are you expecting a delivery, especially not this late. 

trudging your way to the front door, you open it to find jude bellingham standing there and you feel an instant pang of regret, wishing you had peeked through the window to see who it could be, wishing you had pretended to not be in, wishing the ground would open up right now and swallow you whole  – anything to escape the confrontation that you’re now having to face. your face heats up with embarrassment and nerves but you manage to rupture the silence before your mouth can turn dry. 

“j-jude, hi,” you try and keep your greeting as polite and cordial as you can, even when all you really want to do is to chase him off your doorstep. “what are you doing here?”

your query has jude visibly gulping, hands fiddling with each other as he attempts to hold eye contact with you, his vision a bit blurry from exhaustion. “y/n… sorry, can i come in?”

you oblige, holding the door open wide before you guide him to the living room and invite him to sit down on the plushness of your sofa, settling yourself on the opposite end of it. you silently prompt him to say what he came here to say with a nod of your head. 

“uhm, i’m sorry for turning up unannounced, and so late…” ever the courteous. “i had to sneak away from the lads and catch the last flight to here so it was all a bit down to the wire.” he lets out a small, uneasy laugh.

you cut off his rambling with a curt “what do you want, jude?” you don’t mean for it to sound so rude but you still hold the attitude of wanting to get this over and done with, already feeling annoyance at yourself for even letting him into your home. 

“right, yeah, i actually wanted to talk about what happened on saturday,” he goes back to fiddling with this thumbs, eyebrows furrowed but he avoids looking at you this time. not that you can blame him because your own vision shifts to anywhere but his direction. “i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable a-and please tell me if this is inappropriate, but i haven’t stopped thinking about last night, i haven't stopped thinking about you, i-i’m sorry, i know this is all so silly and you probably don’t even feel the same bu-”

you stop him right there, this time with good reason as you can’t bear holding back your real emotions, not when he’s practically given you the green light to spill the contents of your heart.

“no, jude, i didn’t feel uncomfortable at all,” you assure him, gaze now on the footballer in front of you and you almost can’t believe the words leaving your mouth right now. “i wanted it to happen, i’m glad it happened, you know, i think i’ve had dreams about it happening,” you try and offset any tension with a timid chuckle before turning quite pensive. “i really like you, jude, i have for a long time… god, sorry, this is so embarrassing.” you return to making light of the situation you’ve put yourself in, the timidness sinking back in as quick as the relief lifts you up. 

jude moves closer to your now-cowering body, knees touching as your heartbeat surges with worry and self-consciousness all wrapped up into a tight, miserable ball. he puts his sweat-dampened hands into yours and squeezes in silent assurance before raising them up to his lips and laying a chaste kiss on the heated skin.

he can’t help but break out into a sweet smile, eyes threatening to crinkle at the edges. your face is still sketched with tension and now confusion has joined the mix.

“i can’t tell you how long i’ve waited to hear that from you, how much i needed to hear it,” your eyes meet his, widening in surprise a little. “i’m a fool for not telling you sooner… i like you, y/n, i really like you.” he repeats your own words back at you, leaning in with a smattering of amusement dancing in his vision. 

“can i kiss you?” the question leaves your lips faster than you can even process it in your brain.

jude wastes no time in replying with a firm pressing of his mouth on yours, deepening it within seconds, the need to cement his feelings for you being told through the way he cradles your head in his hand, leaning you back onto the arm of the sofa to further intensify the kiss. your lips move along with his, the soft weight of his body pressed against yours making you whine into his mouth in ecstasy.

he lifts off of you with a puckering of his swollen lips, the both of you taking the chance to draw in some air and attempt to regulate your breathing pattern.

“please take me to the bedroom,” you beg, breathless from the sheer sight of his dark eyes and pretty pout. there’s no fight nor denial from jude as he picks you up and prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, quickening his pace once you point in the direction of your room.

he lays you down on the bed so gently, lips latching onto yours once again before they travel down your jaw and over the warm skin of your neck. the light touch of his fluttering eyelashes married with the pressure of his soft lips has your head spinning, hands tentatively laid on top of your sheets since you don’t trust yourself to not grab his head and bring it back to your lips. his fingers tinker with the waistband of your pyjama trousers, stretching it off your skin before he asks permission to peel them down your legs. 

once they’re cast away in some corner of your bedroom, jude divides your legs by the underside of your knees, tucking himself into the now available space between them, turning onto his side and resting on his left forearm. he leaves a small kiss over your covered cunt and you try your best to not just clamp his head in between your thighs and smother him with your growing wetness here and now. 

“need to get you ready, baby,” the sudden mention of the petname has you throbbing, squirming even more when he traces a line from your clit down to where there’s a small damp spot forming on the dark material of your underwear.

“jude, please,” you whine out, lifting your hips in a desperate bid to get the boy to strip your lower half completely. 

he shushes you in his own charming way, making sure to comply with your demand by getting up onto his knees and discarding your soaked panties in a matter of seconds, the cold air generated by his large hands whipping them off you hits your exposed pussy, making you hiss through gritted teeth.

jude returns to the gap between your spread legs, sitting back but still on his knees, his higher position causing you to shift onto resting your body weight on the palms of your hands in order to peer at his actions – which start with him re-tracing that same teasing line from your aching clit to your hole with his thumb, the feeling now so intense on your unclothed skin. he hums in what sounds to be satisfaction when you throw your head back in pleasure, taking it in his favour to slip his index finger into the tightness of your pussy. 

you release a guttural groan at the feeling of finally having some part of him inside you; you of course don’t want this to be the only part but you’re still so very grateful, so fucking grateful he’s now rubbing at your clit in delicious rounds, thumb tracing circle after circle while his fingers form a pair, pistoning in and out of you so easily due to the way your cunt douses itself with every move of jude’s. 

“fuck, baby,” jude moans at the sight of his soaked digits every time they barely pull out of that pretty pussy, his thumb torturing your sensitive bud increasingly so, the cries and whimpers spilling from your lips an incentive for him. “feel so good and tight around my fingers, can’t imagine how you’ll feel around my dick.” 

his words have you absolutely reeling, writhing against his hand to try and chase that moment of release. 

“please, jude, i’m so close,” you’re warning and demanding at the same time, almost begging him to not stop or even think about moving his fingers out of you. “god, please, i need it,” 

jude suddenly retracts both of his hands, leaving you bare and empty. “no way, baby, need to have you cumming on my cock or not cumming at all,” he comments with a shake of his head, denying you the opportunity of leaking your cum over his hand. upon seeing your bewildered face, he makes up for it by putting on a show of licking your juices clean off his fingers, the digits popped inside his mouth and dragged right back out with a low moan, him praising the way you taste. 

“move up the bed for me, angel,” he orders, watching you while he stands up and unclothes himself as quick as he can. you scoot backwards, legs still spread open like they’ve been locked in that position, before pulling your oversized t-shirt off of you, chest void of a restricting bra . “good girl,” he praises, crawling up to hover his body over your laying one, cock in hand as your legs come to wrap around him. “are you still okay with this? we can stop at any point, okay?”

the sincerity of his voice has you melting. some would remark that the bar is in hell for you but the truth is that you hadn’t been with anyone like this for more months than you could count on your hands. you've been touch-starved and lacking words of affirmation for so long, and you needed something to be only about you for once. 

“i’m more than okay with this,” you smile up at him, nodding to make your approval fully known. “and yes, i know i can stop you if i need to.”

jude reciprocates the same smile before leaning in and smothering your lips with his, pushing his cock into your tight wetness, so tight that your pussy almost pushes him back out, not used to being penetrated by something so thick.

“oh my god!” the feeling of tightness/fullness has you both gasping out the same thing at the same time, erupting into quiet giggles when the two of you realise your matching reactions. 

jude’s mouth finds its way back home in the embrace of your lips and you swear this is heaven, the way his cock slides in and out of your sopping cunt, set at such a perfect pace, the slight friction causing you to grow even wetter – the filth of it all contrasts so well with the sweetness of his muffled moans and tender kisses on your neck, moving down onto your collarbones and tits.

a particularly harsh thrust of his cock has your back arching, chest pushed up to his heated face, and he takes this golden opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipple, spending a good while sucking and tugging on the skin around it. you’re amazed at how his cock doesn’t relent inside you, the speed still so quick and consistent even when he’s so occupied in painting splotches on your tits with his mouth.

“there,” he pants out, pulling his head back and marvelling at his own creation. “now, there’s no doubt that you’re really mine.” the smile he gives you is a killer.

you whine at his declaration of you belonging to him, scratching at his shoulders and calling out his name to indicate that it’s all too much for you, that you’re so, so close to cumming on his cock and really giving him what he wants rather than pleasing yourself. you figure that’s you gone now; you’re more willing to put the boy above your own needs because you’re down that fucking bad for him.

“fuck, jude, i’m gonna cum!” you sob, your moans becoming more frequent and higher pitched, legs starting to shake from the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and delight. you’re frantically chanting “please, please, please” into his mouth which parts to swallow your whimpering, wet lips kissing your trembling ones. 

“go on, baby, cum for me, cum all over this cock,” he groans out, eyes squeezing shut when the feeling of your pussy clamping down tightly on his thickness proves too much to handle, face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. he knows you don’t need his permission, he would’ve let you orgasm as many times as you wanted to, would’ve let you use him like your own personal sex toy, but the words were only there to keep you going when his hips felt like faltering – he needed you cumming on his cock like he promised before, and he wasn’t about to fuck it up himself.

a final scream rips from your throat as you cum hard around jude, pussy clenching and pulsating around his cock so sporadically you thought you were having two orgasms at once. jude can’t handle it anymore, pulling out with a myriad of moans as he pumps his shaft with a hand, decorating the expanse of your lower abdomen with warm, white liquid. you’re still squirming, slowly trying to wheeze out the remaining whimpers from your lungs which you’re finding hard to do with the way jude pants and moans above you, the boy so spent he can’t help but breathe like he hasn’t had access to air for the past hour.  

he flops down by your side, arms and legs sprawled like a starfish, chest rising and falling as he attempts to recuperate from the mindblowing sex you two just had. the image is so unserious that you can’t stifle your giggles but you decide to take another step of courage to lay on your side resting your head on his shoulder, fingers stroking his abs and playing with the curly hairs of his happy trail. 

the room is quiet now with the scent of sex wafting through your nostrils on occasion but it’s the most comfortable silence you’ve experienced with jude, the feeling of his hot skin on yours so soothing to you.

after a period of panting, jude clears his throat and your ears prick up at the presence of sound. he turns his head towards you and you lift yourself up and off him out of instinct – you want full attention on him.

“i don’t want this to be a one-time kinda thing, y’know,” he proclaims, biting his lip from saying too much in one go.

“what, is this your way of saying you want round two already?” you joke, nose crinkling at the way he rolls his eyes playfully.

“shut up,” he delivers a poke to your side. “i mean, well, i don’t want either one of us to see this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, i just…” you look at him expectantly, silently telling him to continue. “i want you to be my girlfriend, y/n.” 

you’re nearly knocked back by his words, wondering if they’re real or if you’re simply just hearing things. you thought dialogue like that, coming from him, was only reserved for your imagination, kept secret and only spoken to you in late-night mental scenarios that would comfort you on your way to slumberland.

you let out a laugh that’s an odd mix of relief and disbelief, quickly replying “yes, yes, of course” to his awaiting face, which releases a look of relief itself before jude captures your lips with such passion you’re both knocked back onto the plush pillows, giggling into each other’s mouths until your hands find themselves running down the defined muscles of his abdomen and over his hardening cock.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Imagine sweet little housewife!reader making Ghost dinner after a long deployment. Ghost promises housewife!reader he'll wait till tonight to treat her good, but seeing her in her cute little shorts and his shirt is too much for him to control, so he decides a different dinner.. her tight, wet little cunt.

READ IT HERE

Oh you know exactly what I like Anon, cause anything that has to do with Simon coming home after a long deployment all ramped up and ready to see his sweetheart is right up my alley. I could literally write endlessly about this. 

There is something so fantasruc about having all that pining, all that buildup come to a head so that Simon loses himself and cannot stop himself because he desperately has to be inside you.

Cause, let’s be honest: this man pines for you when he's gone for too long. He never knew he could crave someone until he met you and now every time he goes on mission you are there in his mind torturing him. And he finds that he cannot wait to come home because he knows he has his beautiful girl waiting for him.

You are his little slice of heaven in a chaotic, fucked up world; his sunshine to help rip him out of the overwhelming darkness the surrounds him; the one who he wants to be better for so that your lives together can be good. And that makes him crave you even more.

Sure, to say he is obsessed may be a bit much, but he isn’t subtle about how much he adores you.

Especially his little wife? His sweet girl that he takes care of and in turn she takes care of him? Who keeps things going outside of his work so that he has a life to come back to? The one who makes his life so wonderful just by being in it? Oh yeah he is going to be so down bad to get back to all that that it's almost impossible to function until he sees you. 

From the moment he steps in the door and his eyes catch you working away in the kitchen to have a home cooked meal waiting for him, dressed in nothing but his baggy t-shirt, all that pent up longing is going to come spilling out in the most explosive ways. 

So, best get ready for dinner to be a little dry and maybe burnt because Simon is hungry for something else. And you should probably get ready for the table getting ruined too as he is going to need room to lay out his first course. 

Keep your eyes peeled for this one cause I am definitely going to make it happen as it’s own fic.

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Vodka Slime

pairing: alien!Seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: smut, mild comedy. minors dni.

warnings: monsterfucking, use of tentacles, dom!seungcheol, bratty reader, pussy slapping, bondage, implied size kink (reader is smaller than seungcheol), tummy bulge, squirting, masturbating, unprotected sex but reader is on the pill (pls stay safe), dirty talk, recording during sex (consensual but DON'T DO IT IRL), reader runs a nsfw twitter acc, alcohol consumption

word count: 2.7k

summary: picking up a hot guy from a bar to spend the night with was in your bucket list. him being an alien wasn't. not that you really complain.

Author's note: Spooky season is here and what better way to participate than a spooky smutty theme :) this was a request from Y anon!

p.s.: main inspiration for this fic was drawn by @meltwonu's Starlighter fic, it is a MUST read (like the rest of monster mash lmaooo)

taglist: @duhnova @smileysuh @gyuwoncheol (kindly suffer <3)

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

You kinda wish you had stayed at home.

You thought it would be a good idea to dress up and go to a bar on your own to enjoy a cocktail, hoping for a stroke of luck - Alas, things don’t always go your way.

If you had stayed home, you would be in comfy clothes or maybe no clothes at all, thinking of which toy you want to fuck yourself with. 

You let out a huff and you take your cocktail in your hand, opting for a ‘random walk’ around the bar (you just want to spot a single guy who wouldn’t mind to get laid tonight), but as soon as you turn around, you collide with a very firm body and your cocktail ends up splashing all over your top.

“Fuck!” You gasp when the ice cold beverage hits your skin, desperately looking for napkins to clean up the newly made mess.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that!” He apologizes profusely as he asks for napkins from the bartender. “Here, these should help somehow.” He passes you the napkins and you accept them with a grumble, trying your best to clean up yourself.

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you, miss?”

“You can only-” you almost snap at him but your words die down in your throat when you raise your head and take a good look at the unknown man.

And all you see is the stroke of luck you were wishing for all night long.

Semi-pulled back white hair, slightly messed up from the wind outside, a tight fitted shirt accentuating his toned pecs and a jawline sharp enough to cut through your clothes.

“Well…” You put down the used napkins, “I wouldn’t mind a refill of that cocktail I was drinking.”

The unknown man flashes a rather adorable gummy smile and effortlessly takes a couple of bills out of his wallet.

“That, I can definitely do.”

"So, a college student. That's pretty cool."

You almost snort in your drink. "Oh yeah, it's so cool to stress over random classes because the professor happens to be a dickhead." 

"Hey, don't downplay your achievements. It's not like everyone has the brains to attend college, you know." The man plays with the rim of his glass.

"It's actually funny how hard you're trying to get my attention, while you don't even know my name." You down your cocktail.

"And here I was wondering whether you'd bring it up or not." He chuckles. 

"Well? Are you satisfied now, mister I don't know-what-your-name-is?"

"Seungcheol. Choi Seungcheol."

"What?"

"That's my name, doll."

"Oh." You gulp down. "That's a very nice name you have there."

“So I’ve been told before.”

“By other girls, I suppose?”

“I’m not obligated to share this information, doll.”

“Suit yourself then.” You shrug and open your purse, taking out a small folded mirror to check your makeup.

“I’m impressed.” Seungcheol licks the corner of his mouth, “It’s the first time someone isn’t giving their attention to me.”

“You either have a bloated ego or you’re a desperate attention whore. Or both, I guess.” You sigh.

“And you have a pretty foul mouth for such a pretty face.”

“Cliché.”

“Did it work?”

“I’m not obligated to share this information, mister Choi.” You mimic his attitude.

“Are you even willing to share something with me, other than a drink?” He huffs.

“To be completely honest, I was hoping to come here and snatch a cutie back home to have fun with, but things are looking kinda grim.”

Seungcheol flashes a wide smirk. “What a wonderful coincidence, for our goals to be aligned tonight.”

“You’re here to hit it off with someone too?”

“Yeah. And to be fair, you’re looking way too hot and way too lonely to not get laid tonight.”

“Are you suggesting I should fuck you, Seungcheol?”

“I was planning on using more subtle words but I suppose this is also a way to approach things.”

You take a few seconds to yourself, pondering about Seungcheol’s proposal.

Cons - he’s a complete stranger and could be a murderer.

Pros - he’s fucking hot and you could get new content for your account.

“I have one question.”

“Fire away, doll.”

“You’re not some kind of crazy ass murderer, right?”

Seungcheol snorts. “Murderer? Nope."

He brings himself closer to you. "But the crazy ass depends on the context."

"I think we both know the context." You lick your lips.

"Then I hope you're into crazy stuff, doll."

Boy, he's in for a treat.

"That's a nice setup you have here."

"Thanks." You smile and take off your shoes.

"Are you a streamer?" 

"Hmm, not really."

"There's no shame in saying you're a camgirl." Seungcheol chuckles.

"I never said that and I definitely didn't try to hide it." You retort.

"Judging from the box of dildos being out in the open on your desk, I would agree to the latter."

"Do they make you feel uncomfortable, Seungcheol?"

"Not at all." He walks towards the desk and picks up a neon colored, tentacle shaped dildo. "Is this what you play with?"

You sit down on the bed and cross your legs sensually. "Got a problem with that?"

"Not really." Seungcheol drops the toy in the box. "It's a shame to play with fake stuff when you can have access to the real stuff."

You snort. "What, you're into that fake tentacles porn?" 

He flashes a smirk and removes his jacket and t-shirt, you let out a whistle at the sight of his naked torso. 

The excitement you had stored in your body evaporates within milliseconds when you see extra large sized tentacles coming out of Seungcheol's back, looming over him.

"Okay whoa, that is NOT what I was expecting!" 

"I know it's shocking, but I have zero intention to hurt you-"

You crawl away from him. "Your little friends don't seem to share the sentiment!" 

"I am the one who controls them, I can pull them back if you want me to."

"I- I just-"

"Look, I can just put my clothes back on and disappear from your apartment, like I never even existed in the first place."

"W-Wait! I, um-"

"Take your time, Y/N."

"Can you try not to put these things near my mouth please?"

"Since you asked so nicely, I have no choice but to comply."

Seungcheol crawls on the bed and cages you between his body and the mattress, peppering kisses across your jawline to make you feel more comfortable.

"Do you mind if I kiss you? I promise my lips are nothing like my tentacles."

"Oh my God, just shut up and kiss me!" You grab his face with your hands and smash your lips on his, slipping your tongue in his mouth, but it doesn't last for long, as he pulls away and pins your hands above your head.

"What got into you all of a sudden, doll?"

"Maybe I thought things over again and decided that fucking a hot guy with tentacles isn't a terrible idea." 

"I thought you weren't into that thing?"

"Half of my porn content is with tentacle dildos, please get real."

Seungcheol scoffs. "You little brat."

He lifts himself off you and with a tilt of his head, his tentacles wrap around your torso and legs, restricting you midair.

"You fucker! This is foul play!" You yelp.

He leans back on the headrest of the bed, looking at you with hungry eyes. "Everything is fair in war, love and sex, doll. I’m just spicing up things a little." 

Two more of his tentacles come up to your body, one ripping your top in half and the other flipping your skirt to reveal your bare pussy.

“Fuck you, I liked that top!”

“It was already ruined, sweetheart, don’t think too much of it. No underwear though? That's hot."

"It's called easy access, himbo."

Seungcheol clicks his tongue in annoyance and whips one of his tentacles over your pussy, making you whine.

"You're being a lil' smartass and it could get you in trouble, Y/N."

"Do your worst, Kraken."

The tentacle glides between your lips with the tip repeatedly nudging your clit when it suddenly whips your pussy again and you close your legs involuntarily.

"Ah ah ah, we're not having any of that." 

The tentacles tighten around your legs and keep them wide open, while the third one keeps rubbing your pussy slowly enough for the suckers to tease your sensitive parts.

"Ah! Fuck!" You moan when the slimy object slaps your cunt over and over again, your juices starting to drip on your asscheeks and all over the sheets.

"Drenched already? I haven't even fucked you yet, doll." Seungcheol chuckles as he strokes his cock, his pants discarded a long time ago.

"It's all f-fun and games when you're the o-one sitting on the bed!" You whine in defeat.

Your lips fall open when after a particular harsh slap, the tentacle effortlessly pushes into your entrance, turning around and rubbing your walls in an excruciatingly slow manner.

"Oh…my God…Fuck, that feels so fucking good."

Seungcheol raises his eyebrow. "You feel a tad bit loose, sweetheart." 

"And w-what about it?"

You nearly scream when another, thicker tentacle enters your pussy and thrusts harder than the other one. You feel your walls being stretched out, the foreign bodies in your hole proving to be bigger than the toys you use.

“Now it feels just right.” Seungcheol moans, as if it was his dick fucking you stupid. “Can’t wait to have you all wrapped around my cock, doll.”

“F-Fu- Cheol, I’m gonna cum!” You gasp when the tentacles pick up the pace and ram your cunt without mercy.

“Come on, doll, show me what this pussy is capable of.” Seungcheol grunts as he fists his cock harder to bring himself closer to his climax.

A sharp shriek erupts from your throat - you squirt all over your thighs and the slimy appendices, juices dripping down on the sheets and Seungcheol’s legs. His cock explodes all over his torso, streaks of thick white cum splashing on his skin.

The tentacles around your body relax just enough to let you plop down on the mattress, leaving your skin sticky and covered with a thin, slimy substance. He slowly retracts them altogether and they disappear from your field of view, as if they never existed in the first place.

“I can’t feel my legs.”

Seungcheol crawls on the mattress until he’s hovering above you. “That’s cute. But I’m afraid I’m not done with you yet, doll.”

Your eyes go wide when you notice the sheer size of his cock resting on top of your stomach and you’re pretty sure it’s way bigger than anything else you’ve taken before.

“There’s no fucking way that thing will fit in me!”

“That’s what you said about my tentacles, but you took them like a pro.”

“That’s different!” You protest.

“Different how?”

You purse your lips.

“Different how, Y/N?” Seungcheol slaps his cock between your legs and you whimper.

“It’s….so fucking big, Cheol….”

“Are you scared?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

“We can always take it slow, pretty girl. Are you on the pill?”

You nod your head slowly and hook your fingers around the elastic band of the skirt to take it off, but he stops you.

“The skirt stays on.”

“It could get in the way, though.”

“Pull it just enough to let your pussy show.”

“Wait, I’ve got an idea.” You say and point towards the video camera on the desk. “Can you grab it for me?”

“What do you have in mind, doll?”

“Since it might take some effort to make it fit…” You turn on the camera and hand it over to him, “Might as well show my followers how it’s done, right?”

Seungcheol flashes a dirty smirk before he points the camera to your pussy, his tip nudging your entrance. You wince a little when the bulbous head pushes into your hole, a strangled moan escaping from your mouth when you try to fit in more of his shaft.

“Easy now, I’m not going anywhere, doll.”

He swipes his free hand over his abs to pick up the cum that hasn’t dried yet and smears it all over his length, using it as lube.

“S-Stop teasing me…”

“‘M sorry doll, but I don't wanna rip your pretty pussy apart.”

“Fuck, I can take it, promise!” You arch your back and buck your hips in the air.

Seungcheol flattens his free hand over your stomach and pins you down. “You will take only what I wanna give you, sweetheart. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Your walls clench around his tip and he has the audacity to bring the camera closer to the spot you’re connected to each other, only to push his fat cock all the way to the base.

“Fuuuuuck, it’s huge…” Your eyes roll back and your pussy spasms like crazy, trying your best to accommodate his size.

“Good girl, I knew you’d take it all in.” Seungcheol rasps as he rubs his palm over the newly formed bulge in your tummy, “Such a tiny pussy yet you managed to fit all of it. I think you deserve a treat for this.”

His hand moves to your left hip and he starts thrusting inside you, setting a slow pace at first.

You moan loudly with each thrust he delivers and you slide one of your hands directly over the spot that bulges from his cock.

“Not so snarky now, are you?”

“M-More…”

“More what, doll? Use your big girl words.”

“M-More power, harder, please!” You beg between sobs.

“I was planning on dragging it out a bit more, but fuck, you’re gripping me like a vice and I can’t wait to blow my load in your pussy, doll.”

He pulls the camera a bit further away to get a full view of your and his lower half, ensuring none of your faces are visible in the video. He answers your pleas by fucking you harder and faster than his tentacles did and he can swear his sanity is starting to slip away.

“S-Shit, you’re- Fuck! It’s so good!” You scream and grip the sheets around you, your tits bouncing up and down.

“Mmmh, I’m about to cum, baby- Gonna take it all deep, will you?” Seungcheol moans above you, trying to keep the camera steady.

“Yes, yes yes, fuck me full with your load, daddy!” You cry out and your thighs shake as you cum around his cock, your wet walls rapidly clenching around his huge shaft.

“Fuuuck….” He delivers a few shallow thrusts before he buries himself to the hilt, blowing his thick load inside your pussy until a white ring of cum forms around his base. He doesn’t hesitate to take out his cock with an obscene pop and spurt the remnants of his orgasm over your pussy and your skirt.

“That…was fucking amazing.” Seungcheol taps his cock on your clit, chuckling when you bite your lips to suppress your moans.

“Close…the camera…” You mutter and he presses the button to stop the recording.

He puts the camera down and lays right next to you, ghosting his fingers over your abused cunt. 

“So? Do you think it was a waste of time to bring me back home?”

You grip his wrist and bring his hand in front of your face, licking his digits clean.

“Only an idiot would consider you a waste of time, Cheol.”

“Does that mean you’re down to exchange numbers?”

“Are you not-so-subtly asking for another time?” You rake your pointer finger across his chest.

“Perhaps I am,” he confirms, “Not to mention that one time isn’t anywhere near enough to show you what I can truly do with my tentacles.”

“One question - Do your tentacles spit stuff like in hentai?”

Seungcheol snorts and erupts into a laughing fit, to the point of tears.

You slap his arm. “What’s so funny?! I’m serious!”

“I know! It was still funny,” he wipes his tears away, “But I can’t answer your question yet.”

“And why is that?”

He smirks again.

“That would just spoil the fun for next time, doll.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

hi hiii its my first time ever asking anyone idk how this works ( ;｀Д´)

i rlly love your writing, i often find myself staying up late reading through your blogs!! funny bcs u were the one who got me into jason todd (ФωФ)

anyways!!! i was hoping you could pls pls pls pls plssssss write smth about Jason Todd who has a lover thats a sleep-deprived uni student having a hell week and jason is like "bitch put google docs down and get some sleep, ur ass has been awake for 48 hours" all worried and wanting them to rest and reader is like "correction, 50 hours."

i hope it makes sense (´ 3｀)

tyyyyy!!! woopee woopee

Sorry this took so long to get to anon, I hope you liked it either way. And don’t stay up too late reading fics but I truly appreciate you reading my stuff, I’m glad you like them 🦦🐿️

A week.

An entire week Jason had noticed you have been forcing yourself to stay up at the dead of night, glued to your laptop all the while chugging energy drinks and cups of coffee as though they were going out of style, and for what? An assignment that determined your future at uni should you not get straight marks.

Jason thought it ridiculous that you made yourself sleep deprived over this but he knew that if he didn’t do anything about it, then you’ll continue this habit until you were well out of university, struggling to come to terms that you had well and truly burnt yourself out before you could properly start living.

So when Jason couldn’t fell you next to him in bed one night, like you promised him you would, and groaned as he got himself out of bed before making his way towards the kitchen where he’d knew you’d be.

‘What time do you call this?’ Jason asked when he saw you in your usual spot at the kitchen counter, hunched over your laptop with a thin blanket frapped over your shoulders and a can of energy drink on one side of the laptop and a cup of coffee on the other side. He hated what this stupid university has made you do just in order to get good grades, it was harmful, damaging and it would inevitably lead to health complications later on in life; If he could Jason would more then gladly march down there and threaten the professors to stop shoving a boatload of work onto their students, but firstly he has to get you away from that damn laptop and learn how to take a fucking break.

‘Mid-afternoon?’ You asked, not looking up from the bright screen of your laptop, where the words scrawled across it in an incoherent mess for your overworked brain to comprehend.

‘It’s actually 3:30 in the morning.’ Jason replied unamused as he crossed his arms over his chest and you winced when you saw that he was indeed right about it being three thirty in the morning. ‘Don’t you think it’s time that you shut the laptop off and get some sleep?’

‘But I-‘

‘Actually sleep.’ Jason cuts you off as you slumped back into your chair, unable to come up with a decent enough response to defend yourself with because deep down you knew Jason was right, you’ve hadn’t had a decent sleep in a long while and it was definitely taking it’s toll with how lightheaded you’ve become as of late.

You sighed and ran your hands down your face. ‘Jason I can’t, I’ve got-‘

‘An assignment to complete for tomorrow I know.’ Jason cuts you off again as he crossed the room to put his hand over the top of your coffee cup upon noticing that you were intending to take another drink from it. ‘But I look at you and can tell you can barely keep your eyes open for more than five minutes.’ He adds and upon your silence, he puts the cup aside as far as he could before doing the same with the half empty energy drink, and then finally shutting the laptop close despite your weak protests for him not to.

‘No, Jason my assignment, I need to finish it.’ You told him with slow, sluggish movements as you tried to pry his hand off of your laptop, all the while biting back a yawn. ‘Just give me five more minutes please and I’ll come to bed, promise.’

Jason had enough of this habit of sleepless nights, it ends now, the professors will have to understand and extend the due date for your sake as he remembered how often you had harped on about how important this assignment was for your overall grade; However Jason didn’t take neglecting your bodily needs lightly and would prioritise that over anything else,you could hate him all you wanted but he was only looking out for you and your wellbeing.

‘Sorry chipmunk but I can’t watch you do this to yourself for any longer than I already have.’ Was all Jason said as he then lifted you out of your chair suddenly causing you to yelp in surprise and cling onto him for dear life, now being more awake then you ever have been five minutes ago, as he then proceeded to carry you back towards the bedroom before unceremoniously dropping you onto the bed.

‘Jason, I seriously needed to get that assignment-‘

‘We are going to sleep, end of discussion.’ Jason said with finality as he crawled under the covers and quickly held you against his chest as tightly as he could, rubbing his hands up and down your back soothingly. ‘I know how important this assignment was for you sweetheart but I’d much rather have you well rested, clear minded and healthy than to ever to have you pass out in my arms from exhaustion. I want my baby happy and healthy and you are neither of those things right now.’ Jason whispers into your ear, kissing the side of your head a couple of times before resting his forehead against yours so that he was looking into your weary half lidded eyes.

‘Look at you, you can barely keep your eyes open.’ He spoke with worry laced in his words.

‘You’re really warm and comfy jay birdie.’ You murmured, feeling the need for sleep grow ever stronger the longer you stayed in his arms as it fogged your mind.

‘I know, so please we can talk to the professor in the morning and sort something out, but until then no more late nights understand?’ Jason said firmly as he held you a little tighter, he just wanted you to get a decent nights sleep and be looked after properly but all these late nights weren’t cutting it and were making your situation worse, how were you meant to get anything done when you were half out of it due to overworking and lack of a sleep schedule? Were the professors at your university thinking they were teaching robots instead of humans with breaking limits?

‘Okay I understand, I love you.’ You replied sleepily as you burrowed your head into his neck, falling asleep in record time as Jason stayed awake a little longer as to make sure you were properly asleep before following suit, watching over you in the dream realm as he did the waking one.