#(also like cutting ur own hair is just HArd)

[bunnyboy-juice]

am i suffering with my first piercings as an adult (my second hole on my ear) bc i literally cant figure out how to get these stupid flat back piercings off? yes. am i still daydreaming about getting a medusa piercing bc i think my lips are perfect for that? also yes

[milo-is-rambling]

Just remembered how one of my dedicated to people last roadtrip literally was like “oh actually I don’t think you can stay here tonight I have work early tomorrow :(“ after driving like seven and a half hours to him (and he texted me this when I was an hour away from his house and we had literally talked about my plans to stay there all day) like hello red flag red flag red flag

[satoruhour]

geto reaction to you wearing only his shirt

OVERSIZED NEVER LOOKED THIS GOOD

a/n: lore. a lot of lore. i always cannot help but write backstories. ure gonna have to bear w/ me SORRY !!!! based off of this drawing that i wanted to write sum about but then i thought why not combine it w/ this prompt. i went a little insane on this mb / tagging @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @hyomagiri @slttygeto, who else r geto fuckers

wc: 2.9k

warnings: roommate!geto, soft dom!geto, mutual pining, reader steals one of geto’s shirts, geto is also a little bit of a pervert, mentions of panty sniffing but geto doesn’t do it, m! and f! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, slight nipple play, spitting (on ur pussy), finger sucking, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

geto was a sweet roommate.

he’s always topping up on supplies when you needed things, pushing away your hand whenever you wanted to pay. where he got all his money, you weren’t even sure. geto cleaned the house, he cooked dinner, hell, it was like you two were married at this point. even gojo had asked if he would get together with someone who wasn’t you (and of course, in classic gojo way, he was skilled in asking it in a roundabout way), geto’s firm and abrupt “no” was enough to make gojo grin from ear to ear.

even he wasn’t sure when it all started — you were always friends with the three of them, gojo and shoko and himself, participating in their antics and getting in trouble in high school. there was hardly any dull times between the four, looking at you through the lens of a friend. but when those lens started to turn blurry and black, seeing you in a new light of tighter outfits and a sweet smile that looked like it contained something hidden, suguru genuinely hoped it would all go away.

it’s not like he thought he was unattractive, but you wouldn’t go for a guy like him, someone hidden behind gojo’s bright personality or shoko’s satirical, cool demeanour. he was oh so oblivious, however, turning an unintentional blind eye when you’re hanging with gojo for the day but only because you wanted to know what birthday present would be best for him, or having a movie night with shoko only to disregard cher horowitz on the television just to ask if geto would like your new nails and hair.

the two of you were so dense when either of you were hanging with them, going on for so long even after taking a gap year for shoko’s overseas med school attachment. they assumed the two of you would’ve done something then, but it was stagnant, dry, that gojo almost wants to take matters into his own hands; so when you’re begging geto if you could room with him, since he lived near the university you were all attending together,

“suguru, pleasee— i wouldn’t wanna travel for hours on end just for like a two hour lecture.”

shoko smiles, gojo laughs, slinging an arm around you, “help your poor friend out, suguru.”

gojo torments him to no end. he doesn’t regret it one bit when your arms are thrown around his neck in a bear hug in thanks, feeling himself get hard just from the way your breasts press against his chest.

“yeah,” it’s said breathily, softly, “it’s no problem.”

suguru thanked god you hadn’t wanted to move in that very same day, cause all that could be heard throughout the small apartment was him pumping his cock to a polaroid picture of you, calling out your name softly as he came all over the photo of your bright smile. he didn’t need the fan that night, the guilt was enough to burn him alive. and after, he acted like nothing happened, except the many, many times he’d think of taking you on every surface of the house, suffering silently for an entire year as the two of you fell into routine day by day.

today might change, however, when geto hangs the last piece of clothing, something that was hardly a difficult task, but it proved to be the hardest thing to date when he’d spot the bras and underwear lying at the bottom of the basket each time he prepared to do laundry. geto wills himself to wash, hang it, and get out but he cannot tear his eyes away from the unmistakable dark spot at the centre of your panties before it’s thrown in, taunting him to just pick it up to breathe in your scent, to do something to defile it, to let his desires take over. but he wasn’t gojo, no, he’d wait all the time in the world for the right time, even if it was at the expense of a throbbing cock and flushed cheeks.

“(y/n), ’m going to the store, you want…” his voice trails off when the drawer before him shows only one clean shirt left, sighing when his favourite shirt has gone missing, again. he knows it simply by the missing tag on the top, cut off terribly by your hands on a drunk movie night. he was thankful you missed his skin by an inch, but he cherishes that shirt and night dearly. geto simply brushes off the mishap, grabbing a sweatshirt instead.

there’s a rap on your door that quells all movement from your side, fabric clutched tightly between your fingers that it hurt just a little.

“(y/n)? love? you okay?”

“y— yeah, i’m fine sugu. what did you say earlier?”

“i’m going to the store. it’s grocery day so i’ll be there for a while — need to stock the fridge up for the week. you want anything?”

geto wishes so desperately to see your face now, asking if you could go and holding a reusable bag by your side, but strangely you don’t even make a move to open the door.

“no it’s fine, and okay! i’m— uh, busy with something,” you look towards the door and back to the article of clothing in your hand, “so i’m sorry i can’t help today.”

geto’s disappointment is brief, but he recovers as soon as he hears your apology, in that sweet, honeyed voice you love to use on him, as oblivious as you were of its effect.

“’s fine, see you later!” there’s a weird and panicky bout of feeling geto gets, but he’s satisfied with the hum you sound through the door. and once the door clicks behind him, you’re unlocking your own door softly, ensuring your surroundings are safe.

geto wasn’t the only one. between your fingers were his favourite shirt, straight from the dirty laundry of last week’s load; it’s been a reoccuring thing these few weeks after realising you maybe want geto to fuck you silly. you’re sneaking around undetected with it, holding it to your nose, breathing in his natural musk. it was the one shirt you liked on him — always put on when with you — it’s like your secret little joke from that night. and it was so sinful, the way your breath hitches from just his scent, the way your panties pool with arousal.

what would it be like to actually wear it?

the thought crosses your mind and leaves just as fast, heart pounding in your chest when you realise you’ve never tried that before.

peeling off your top, you slip it on carefully, swallowing from how much larger he is than you. the sleeves extend past your elbows by a little, so much cloth on you that you’re a little lightheaded by the possibility of being geto’s, belonging to geto.

“oh god…” you sigh, feeling your pussy throb at the thought, and your hands are shy when they creep in between your thighs. they rub at your clit gently, imagining geto was doing the work instead. he’d be so gentle with his hands, cupping your thighs, spreading your legs.

you’re whining when your fingers find your way into your cunt, nose filled with the scent of geto and head filling with the repeated runnings of his tongue on you, his cock in you, his whole person devoted to you. it’s cute how you don’t know that’s already the case. your fingers are lacklustre as you pump them in and out while your other hand is busy with your clit and you look like a goddess: spread out on your bed in nothing but your roommate’s shirt, a soft, slow melody playing from your phone.

you’re so entranced by the sensations you don’t hear the front door opening and the rustle of the plastic bags (he forgot the reusable bags) containing your groceries, distracted by the phone call he’s having with gojo who teases him through the line. his best friend says stupid crap like she’s definitely into you, too. what her panties smell like? have you guys fucked yet?

the last two was enough for geto to whisper a soft satoru!, clearly displeased with the way he was asking about you, about you both that he only rolls his eyes, muttering an annoyed “i’m hanging up, you pervert. i’ll talk to you later—”

setting down the bags, he frowns again upon seeing the closed door, although not as closed you thought you left it.

“suguru— f-fuck, right there—” geto chokes on his saliva at the moans coming from behind the door, careful not to step on the wrong floorboard below him as he lines up with your room door — a terrifying feat rewarded by your needy whines begging for him. he can hear the wetness of his roommate’s cunt, and he wants to take a peak so bad; so he does just that and stiflies a groan at the sight.

your hair is splayed out all around you, pussy facing the entrance of the door just perfectly and his shirt draped over your body. it sends him into a frenzy, head reeling at seeing his shirt so oversized and so perfect over your body that he swears he cums a little at the display. your cute face scrunched up in pure pleasure, your toes curling around the bedsheets he changed for you.

oh, shit.

and geto panics when your head shoots up, eyes meeting his and your hands halting.

fuck, did i say that out loud?

you’re speechless although your reflexes cause you to close your legs immediately, scooting up the bed like you’ve just got cornered by a predator. it was similar — geto with his big, brooding self, moving slowly into the room with both hands up and a dazed look behind his eyes, you, exposed in the eyes of a hungry man who’s craved you for so many months. you like it.

“you’re— you’re wearing my shirt,” geto gulps, causing you to let out a nervous laugh.

“yea— yeah…”

geto thinks that maybe this is it. this was the moment he’s been holding back on for so long, and so he crosses that boundary into your space, stopping right at the footboard of the bed. you follow suit, going onto your hands and knees and crawling to him that he tilts his head back. everything you do drives him crazy.

suguru’s words is heavy, “you think you’re cute, hm? stealing my shirt and then moaning out my name and fingering your pussy like that…”

your breath shakes, ascending to your knees so you’d reach his height, but not quite. he tugs you closer to him.

“yeah.” it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it, “been wanting you for a long time.”

your roommate hums, lips hovering over yours just by an inch. you’d probably pass out if not for your racing heart and pulsating core.

“yeah?”

you’re finished with words, resorting only to a shy nod before geto crashes his lips onto yours, wrapping the other arm around you as yours go around his neck. it’s messy, filled with drool, devouring you on the spot for teasing him for so long, mouths moving in sync with each other. there’s a soft moan that escapes your mouth when you feel him manhandle you with ease, picking you off the bed to set you down on your back gently.

“c’mon, let’s see the mess you made,” you mewl at the words but your legs are stubborn, still in disbelief at the way suguru treats you, but you let him pry your legs apart after some gentle praises. you stifle a smile when you see how geto exhales at how beautiful your pussy is, leaking from your hole while your puffy clit is begging to be touched.

“oh, she’s so fuckin’ pretty…” your roommate mumbles, intoxicated on your scent as he bends down, giving your cunt one last loving look before he looks to you with a small grin. it’s clear he cannot wait, but he pauses for the words he wants to hear.

“wan’ you to eat me out, sugu,” you’re mumbling and suguru thinks it’s so cute, only responding by giving you a peck on your inner thigh, a soft yeah? before he goes down on you.

geto’s tongue on you is slow and cautious, drawing languid circles around your clit as he plays with your thighs, moaning softly into your core.

“s’damn sweet,” you can feel the stretch of a smile before he resumes, drawing you in slowly with each lick, each suck. geto doesn’t let your arousal go to waste, using a finger to scoop up your juices before he rubs the area around your hole and then the first push into your pussy makes you let out a loud, wanton moan.

“oh— your fingers, sugu, they’re—” they’re so much thicker and longer, everything that you couldn’t feel before now feels too much and yet your cunt gives him his answer by clenching around his longer finger.

“better than yours?” he asks with a lopsided smile.

you huff in indignance — not your fault you had shorter fingers, “yeah.”

“i’ll make full use of ’em, baby,” geto gasps softly when he pushes his finger right to the hilt, obsessed with the way your hand closes around his wrist. “too much?”

you shake your head, “n-no, just— feels too good.”

your roommate laughs softly, “princess is just too sensitive.”

he’s tempted to chuckle again when he sees how the pet names affect you, but soon he’s adding a second finger and pushes in, moving at a slow speed. and then when he adds his mouth into the mix, you’re begging for him to hurry; his eyes flutter close, getting lost in everything that you dish out.

geto’s pace is routine like his life, but it’s not any less pleasurable as he curls his fingers upwards, stretching you out and hitting your spot repeatedly. he continually flicks his tongue and sucks and slurps, tasting your essence once and needing a second, third, fourth, umpteenth taste, bringing out the most delicious moans to fall from your lips. it’s like hearing aphrodite sing, and yet you cross her by miles both in beauty and voice. surely, he shouldn’t mention that out loud, but eros can’t possibly help the arrow puncturing his heart, and looking at his psyche now, he thinks you look absolutely flawless.

“f-feel so good, mmh— so deep, suguru—!” his eyes snap open to look at you with hooded lids, sending you a cheeky wink before he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves, keeping his mouth latched around it as his fingers speed up. the noises of your cunt sucking him in paired with your whines just sound so good, and the scent of his shirt is dizzying, pulling it higher and higher till it pools around your chest. you watch as geto pulls away for a second, gathering saliva in his throat before he spits on your pussy, and the action is so lewd your jaw drops and your hips start to hump against him. 

“ya like that? filthy girl,” geto smiles, rubbing his thumb into your clit and there’s that distinctive build-up in your stomach, coiling and burning until lays his tongue flat onto your cunt, pressing it deep along with the fingers that curl up in your pussy.

“su—” you don’t even have time to tell him, cumming all over his fingers and soaking the sheets, flustered at the in-awe look geto has on his face at how the shirt had ridden up, at how your hands cup your tits and play with your nipples, at how your cunt gushes so sweetly for him. he continues to pump his fingers to let you ride out your orgasm, relishing in the whine you let out when he removes his fingers.

“patience, sweetheart,” geto moves up to reach you, fingers waiting inches away from your lips. you’re taking his fingers into your mouth, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around them and sucking your cum off of him, swearing lowly when you grab his wrist and shove them deeper. “but then again, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long, now.”

you smile at his allusion to the many times that the what-ifs could’ve come true, and yet now you’re tangled up like this in his shirt.

once geto’s underwear comes off, you’re gaping at the cock that he pumps, clearly looking intimidating enough that geto has a hand to your knee and kisses it gently. “we’ll make it fit, alright?”

you nod a little timidly, taking his hand off and twining your fingers, “yeah, i trust you to take care of me.” you make a quick move to remove his shirt but he stops you, saying something embarrassing about wanting to see how cute and small you look in his shirt. you’re scoffing and pushing at him later, you’re just too tall.

he takes care of you perfectly fine — when geto fully sheathes himself in you, he can only focus on your gummy walls that wrap around him fully, his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and you’re grasping at his hands that grab your hips so hard. your roommate fucks you so well, your body limp and your pussy begging to milk him dry that it spills out so much — geto groans into your neck with reddened cheeks at that later.

you’re receiving a noise warning the very next day, alongside a QR code that takes you to a link for soundproof foam, and all you can do is laugh at each other. like routine, geto is already gathering the ingredients for an apology cake, beside him right in that little kitchen in another shirt of his that starts to smell more and more like you—

as his roommate and maybe now, something more.

part two ♡

[zuhaism]

⊹ ｡˚ 𓂃 ♡ Y/NRINA FAN FAVOURITES ?! 

[ navigation ] pt2

pairing : aespa5th!member x yoo jimin

synopsis : fan favourite y/nrina moments that convince them that they’re more than friends

genre : fluff

┈ clip 1

“we’re in sydney… nature. there’s y/n sunbathing on the grass”

giselle and karina walked over to you. her already closed eyes tightened as their shadows loomed over her. “she’s enjoying the moment..” karina explained to the camera.

“shes also asleep” giselle said with a giggle after nudging the girl and getting no reaction. “yah.. wake up!” karina poked y/n’s side. she flinched and warned her “do it again and ill jump you.”

karina giggled and poked the girls side deeper than before making her sit up. karina stood up and started running while y/n chased after her.

the clip got cut off to y/n on top of karina in the background of winter saying goodbye to the camera. they were on the grass as y/n sprawled her arms out over karina. if you squint you could see y/n cuddling into her.

y/nsairpods : nahh what they doing back there in 4:59

winterinari : we all saw that y/n

┈ clip 2

“helloooo everyonee !!”

“we raided y/ns room”

the live showed ningning, giselle and winter on y/n’s bed. it was currently 12:40am.

“what are you guys doing up?”

“we drank coffee hihi” said ningning as they looked for interesting comments.

“where’s y/n and karina?” read giselle aloud. “here they are.. unnie ill cover your face.” my’s could hear ningning whisper as they turned the camera around.

showing karina facing them straddling y/n on her gaming chair with her hands wrapped around y/n’s shoulder. while she played minecraft.

“haiii” karina waved with her bare face being covered by winters finger. “y/n say hi” winter spoke up.

she raised the hand that was on her keyboard and waved, her gaze still on the monitor. karina giggled and nestled her head deeper into the crook of the girl's neck, turning her attention back to her phone.

ningfordays : THEYRE DATING CMON

meowrina : mann if my girl aint clingy like that i dont want her (i want karina)

┈ clip 3

“now were done with our japan tour..” karina said still chewing on her food. beside her was y/n who eyed her food and opened her mouth.

karina picked up a piece of pickle and fed it to the younger girl. “you gave me vegetables.” y/n made a disgusted face.

“next time get ur own.” y/n made an annoyed face. “you look like a nerd with those glasses on .. chat do you agree with me. please comment ‘karina is a nerd’ i will be watching when this video uploads.”

y/n said whilst taking the camera from karina’s hands and fighting her off before she could get it back. “stop” karina sulked, going back to her food and ignoring y/n who shoved the camera on her face.

“atleast im a cute nerd.” y/n giggled at that.

“my cute nerd”

┈ clip 4

“hello everyone today i’ll be doing y/n’s make up yay!” karina said as she clapper her hands. she layed out the make up materials. “go wash your face first.” karina said to y/n who looked like she just had woken up. with her messy hair and oversized tshirt and pants.

“today we’re going to stroll around nyc but y/n is tired from jetlag so im helping her with her make up.”

y/n came back a little fresher than before. “come sit down.” karina motioned for y/n to sit infront if her. where she prepped a chair so the camera could capture it.

karina was standing as she did y/n’s make up until she got to her eyeliner. “agh this is hard while standing.” karina groaned as she pulled back from applying the eyeliner on y/n’s eyelid.

“sit” y/n pulled karina down on her lap as she was already towering above her. the camera caught the tips of karina’s ears turning red

y/n held karina close, steadying her as she worked on the eyeliner. making karina have the height advantage while y/n just closed her eyes and looked up.

ninging : ik what u are

tinniewinter : idk if i wanna be karina or y/n

┈ clip 5

“cut!” the choreographer called out. aespa was rehearsing for their synk hyper line tour in japan. everyone let out a breath of exhaustion as they let their muscles loose from posing.

karina approached y/n, who stood at her spot with her eyes closed, caught in a moment of post-performance relaxation. she didn’t even flinch when karina grabbed at her hoodie strings that got in her shirt from the vigorous dancing. fixing her hoodie.

she looked back up to face y/n and made eye contact with her. the camera caught the tip of her ears turning red. before she went in to wrap her arms around the girls shoulder. trying to ignore the flustered feeling from the sudden eye contact.

y/n, slightly taken aback, looked at karina with a hint of confusion. she returned the embrace by wrapping her arms around karina’s slim waist.

[vatelixx]

The visionary, the willing executor,

Spencer Reid x afab!UNSUB!reader (written with mid!seasons Spencer Reid in mind)

SMUT!! copious amounts of angst (there’s traces of fluff in there as well if u get out ur magnifying glass)

BASED ON THIS SONG (it got so stuck in my head that I had to write something that correlated):

──── autistic spencer (it’s not explored that much, but it’s always gonna be present in my oneshots), evil evil reader (im not being dramatic this time. she’s literally a serial killer. like her ‘body count’ is copious. but idk, she’s kinda sweet. if u squint and ignore the bodies). They were in love ur honour !!! they’re still in love ur honour !!!! She pays him a visit two years after he found out about her homicidal tendencies (they miss each other, Spencer might also hate her a little but it’s okay, don’t worry about that).

Warnings: sub spencer (aaaaaaalways), maybe perhaps some vague, very faint mentions of switch!spencer but idk i blacked out writing this, choking, mentions of death and general behaviour that would get you a life sentence, praise more than degradation surprisingly, coming untouched, crying (you’d think that was a kink or something?), she fucks the good out of him, hopeful ending (eh, kinda), mentions of dante’s inferno, copious amounts of religious imagery, greek mythology references, this isn’t dead dove at all i promise.

w.c: 5k

a/n: everything i write has been so angsty recently. i’m working on something softer for my next upload i swear (alongside the requests, I promise, they’re being written im just a die-hard perfectionist). aaaaanyway, happy (belated) halloween!! It’s Spencer’s favourite season so i thought i’d write him getting destroyed by a serial killer (god when is it my turn????)

────────────

Spencer would consider himself a good person, by default. It’s reasonable: a renowned member of the BAU, with intellect he’s weaponized for morality. The blood etched onto his hands is justified. Necessary evil for greater cause. He’s willing to blemish his skin for the virtue, for the lives of others.

He remembers naivety. He remembers being so fragile he could easily crack into fragmented pieces of wasted innocence. Maybe that’s been stolen from him now, maybe the ruins of his sacrifices are too sharp to touch upon still, but he’s good. He knows he will always be good.

And yet, there’s a bruise. Something ugly and distorted that stains his skin. Something that has the ability to crawl deep into his bones and leave behind a mess of pain. Something bad. Festering and tainted, it haunts him with every breath.

You.

You, who came into his life as an abundance of sunlight. Helios personified. Pretty and warm, and everything he needed. He wanted to kiss you: the moment he stumbled into the coffee shop, tousled hair, overworked and raw from a burdening case. When you took his order, marking constellations onto the styrofoam cup. Andromeda, Ursa Major, Cassiopeia. Later, much later, then when you became an indomitable presence to his apartment.

But for all the good he’s preserved, Spencer knows he’s not allowed to receive it.

“You shouldn’t be here,” is the first thing he says when he finds you waiting for him. He always knew you would come back; you’re bound to follow him indefinitely. Like his shadow, his guilty consciousness, his cracked past of addiction and pre-pubescent torment.

He let you go. When the act was over, the curtain drawn, when he saw you. Homicidal, the perpetrator of the case he was working on, malevolence packed into the frame of perfection, oh even still, he let you go. Free to continue the cycle of death, he was left to scramble in the mess of his own misguided heart.

There’s risk in reward, and reward in risk. You’re meticulous, hedonistic to the last detail. But Spencer? Well, he will always be the one loose end you could never quite force yourself to clean up. The thread that kept untangling, even as time passed. Cut it off, you should be rational, wash every bleeding trace of him from your skin.

But there’s irrationality in love.

Blood adorns your features; there’s no need to touch up your appearance, to return to the domesticated facade you once used on him. No, he’s been exposed to the ugly now. There can be no do overs, no back-tracking, game over try again doesn’t exist in real time.

“What are you going to do about it?” you ask, and god, hes just as beautiful as the day you left him. So perfectly real, with dragging exhaustion and pretty brown eyes to ease the sting of his tight-faced, troubled expression.

You didn’t cut the phone lines, nor move the gun he keeps stashed in his cabinet drawer. Down the hall, to the left. You know he won’t make any abrupt actions. Know, in an intuitive way, telepathic communication between past lovers.

“It was a gamble coming here, aren’t you pleased to see me pretty boy?”

Spencer has to fight every urge he has, every moral he believes in to not lunge at you; to not strangle your slender neck, crack you in half, destroy you the way you’ve destroyed his sanity.

Two years, 8 months, 11 days since you cataclysmically uprooted his routined life. He fell in love with softness, not the jagged edge of a blade.

“I let you go. Wasn’t that enough?” it feels too natural, fighting in his apartment, some sort of twisted lovers quarrel. There’s a definite list of everything he should do in this moment, and despite all logic, he just blanks at the sight of you.

“You had to come back. Rub salt in the wound. Do you get off on this?” a sigh falls from his pretty lips, “Actually, don’t— don’t answer that. We both know the answer.”

“I get off on you,” you correct.

It’s true. If he was to analyse you, profile your warped brain like his other unsubs, he’d find nothing but unyielding loyalty to him. For all the damage you’ve done, there’s always been one anomaly to your detachment.

He stands right before you.

And, sure, maybe you’ve got a leg up in this situation. Perhaps the distorted memory of you holds him back: lazy nights and tangled sheets, his body pressed up against yours. The way he’d talk, quantum physics, philosophy, rambles that dissolved into open admissions of feelings. There’s a lot that was fake, but to be a good liar, you have to add subsidiary details of truth.

God, he wishes the world would be cruel—a cosmic alignment of karmic righteousness that would grant him relief: some kind of justification for what he must do. But the universe is indifferent, nothing but a distant star, a fleeting speck of dust in the grand scheme of life. There’s no such thing as good or bad, only consequences.

Consequences. Consequences for his actions. Butterfly effect. He can comprehend it. But, there were many things he adored about you, while the illusion of love was tangible. The way your hair would curl just above your shoulders, your skin in the morning light. The way you’d laugh at one of his obscure Star Trek references, better yet his criticism on modern, inaccurate horror. He could stare at you for eons, as though he was trying to make out the secrets of the universe in the constellation lines of your scars.

The illusion of love, as it was. He sees you now with the clarity of reality, the same way a mirage fades away as you approach; a distortion of perception.

“And you get off on me. Even now. Don’t you?” you say, shifting forward to close gravitational space.

There’s no way to disregard this morbid connection. No psychological justification he can exploit to demean your feelings. You’re not a psychopath, nor anything that relates to a lack of empathy. You feel— you feel empathy for all of your victims, the line of bodies that mark your path. But it goes deeper than that. There was reasoning for your actions, just as there was for his.

“Say it,” you goad. And there’s satisfaction here, sure. Something mean and condescending. But there’s also hurt, because he was supposed to be a means to an end, and now, he might very well be your end.

“Say you miss me. C’mon boy genius, a few little words and i’ll have enough content to satisfy me for years. Don’t be mean— you know I hate being edged.”

He does miss you, every day that he wakes up, his bones too hollow and cold to leave his bed. The ache in his chest where his heart was supposed to be, too empty to function. No amount of caffeine can fill the void in his skull where thoughts of you used to reside. The longing, the desire for the past to rewrite itself.

“You’re sick,” he tries. But he’s not good at this. Not when the love remained after the inevitable fall out, not when the darkest parts of him still clung to want, even after he realised the truth.

“You’re sick, and..” he tries again, “and I hate how much I miss you. There? Is that enough? Are you happy? Got what you wanted?”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “No. If I ‘got what I wanted’, I would still have you.”

Spencer dies. Metaphorically, literally, what does it even matter? He dies, respawns, and then kisses the admittance from your lips.

Instinctively, just like the past, your hands tangle through his hair, and perhaps there’s a sense of ownership to the gesture. The knowledge that he will always be yours. Scarred from your touch, returning to your lips like a dog with a bird. There’s a mindless attempt at anger on his part, biting lips and rough teeth, but just like always, he quickly melts.

He melts, and you catch him. Because for all it’s worth, lies and deceit aside, you’ve always loved him.

There’s something powerful to the gesture; knowing you have someone wrapped around your finger. Even after you’ve bared the worst of you, the ugliness of man-kind. There’s someone out there that will wipe the blood from your cheek, and kiss you through it.

“Oh, even better,” you mutter against his lips, “Much, much better. C’mon Spence, show me just how much you’ve missed me.”

Two years, 8 months, 11 days since he felt like he could breathe.

It hurts, it hurts so much, because there’s a sense of coming home to the kiss, and he just wants you to stay. To ruin him forever. To leave behind a deformed version of him, something unrecognisable and equally scarring.

You’re too loyal and he’s too susceptible to any form of attention. Because you want him, and it’s easy to fall into a cyclical cycle of self-destruction when you’re the catalyst.

“I did miss you.” he admits again. “You— crazy, homicidal excuse of a person.”

Spencer’s hand comes up to touch your cheek, the rough texture of skin meeting something soft. His thumb traces down the curvature of your jawline, a silent hello that doesn’t linger long, too soon to be replaced with his lips.

You push him back against the wall, a painful groan escaping your lips when you feel his hips canting forward, searching aimlessly for a friction you’ve both been denied. Two years. His body still aches for you. It’s primal, something perverted and tainted and so very good.

You knew this would happen. There was not a doubt in your clouded mind that he would deny you. What you do to me, I do to you.

“There’s my boy.” you mutter when you grip said hips, fingers finding their natural, fated position against divine bone. When he begins to find a stable pace, bucking up to meet you with every kiss that you press to his lips.

He whimpers when you touch him, soft sounds of need slipping past his parted lips into the confines of his empty apartment. He’s trying so hard to maintain composure, but he can’t find it in him to fight the inevitable. The ache of separation between himself and you. So he lets it happen, like he always does.

My boy, the possession goes straight to his head. One simple phrase and he’s untangling, breaking to pieces because yes, he is yours. And yes, he will forever want to be reminded.

“Mhm, mhm. Oh— oh, fuck.” he’s so hard, clothed cock pushing up against you with every movement. He could get off on less of you. He has. Every night.

And yes, it certainly feels like home. It’s only the thing your body has been aimlessly yearning for, day in and day out. It’s not fair, not fair to you, that you’ve allowed your resolve to crumble, your strategic, one-track mind, for the fleeting body of a past lover.

But then again, demeaning him to a past lover doesn’t even begin to articulate this.

You’re fairly certain he was put on this earth, just to torment you.

And you’re fairly certain you’ll always let him.

“God, you’re such a slut for me.” you say, drawing back from the friction just to prove your point. The disintegrating whimpers that bleed out of his mouth in response are enough alone to confirm.

His head falls back against the wall, baring that lovely length of his neck and its pretty bruises. He wants you to kiss him there, to leave one last mark before he says ‘I won’t see you again’ and means it this time.

“Don’t— don’t stop—” even as he speaks, a mess of jumbled words and breathless sentences, you’re still teasing him. He hates how much it works, how much he’d rather fall into the pleasure of your hands.

“Fine. Whatever. Yes. What do you want to hear? That it’s whorish the way I want you. That you’re able to just… corrupt me with all these dirty words, even though I have an extensive vocabulary. Even though i’m supposed to be—“

He’s not even sure what he’s supposed to be anymore.

“You know the extent of my devotion.” he concedes.

There will always be sadistic pleasure in reducing him to such an ignominious version of himself. You’ve seen it before, back when you were trapped in an artificial, yet domesticated, haze of bliss. But to hear it now? Even after everything has been said and done?

That’s a new type of pleasure.

You know he still holds onto the facade of you, aimlessly reaching for something intangible, something that never truly existed. “You want me to be good for you, huh? Just pack up my shit, leave it all behind, get better? Think about it. White picket fence. Coffee every morning. God— it would be insufferable. Coming home to feed the dogs, talking every night over the phone, begging you to be safe on a case, or or—“

Spencer breaks. Silencing your words with a pained whimper.

Usually, he doesn’t allow himself to think about that fantastical hypothetic. He can’t afford to. Months after he let you go, when the truth had been exposed to his naive eyes, he’d spend hours in a mess of aching limbs, dreaming up alternative realities where your hands weren’t stained from blood, and the most despicable thing you could do was make his coffee bitter.

So when you force him to open old wounds, to rehash past hopes, he falls apart. A whine escapes his lips, hips bucking, once, twice and then he’s coming untouched. Making a mess out of himself— and it’s sick, so very sick to get off on the thought of you permanent, the epitome of good.

Something he could hold onto without slicing open skin.

It’s not a good orgasm, it never is without your direct help, but at least it’s some form of release. In the aftermath, he blinks away tears, vaguely aware of the cum staining his boxers, creating damp spots through fabric.

There’s something painful, cutting to your gaze when you look at him. At the debauched sight, corrupted from just a few words.

Give it all up? For what? Him?

All things considered, it’s tempting.

“Spencer,” you mutter in the serrated moments between. When he’s still nebulous, caught in the aftershocks of abrupt pleasure. When he’s just gotten off, untouched, on the notion of a domesticated life with you.

He’s struggling to breathe. He’s spent nights gasping for you, reduced to the most debasing version of himself. So out of touch, you drove a blade through his back, catching his heart on the way.

“Why are you— doing this?” he asks, but before you can even answer, provide him with an explanation that will devastate, he’s lunging forward, kissing the lies that cling to your lips. Kissing you because his mouth hurts when it’s not attached to yours.

“One last time.” he says; he’s too intelligent, too intellectually adept, to allow this swallowing cycle of humiliation to continue.

But, underneath it all, he’s also inherently selfish for you. He’s fairly certain you were engrained into his skin, long before he fell into your barbed trap, teeth and penetrative ruin.

“Then you leave. You actually leave, never contact me again. No showing up at my apartment unprovoked. I have a good life without you. Understood?”

You scoff. He presses forward, “Understood?”

You don’t protest when he elucidates his life as good. Even if it’s quite the contrary. Even if he has to bare witness to depravity every single day, scrutinise his way through the minds of the most perverse. Perhaps this is a social experiment to him, perhaps you are the guinea pig, Laika sentenced to space. You know he loved you once, but it’s hard to comprehend the feelings remained unscarred, it’s hard to imagine you’re anything but a test subject now.

You look at him. Look at that pretty face. Your undoing. He could be your achilles heel, hamartia in its rawest form, or maybe you willingly chose to do this. Maybe fate, and divine intervention played no part in your attachment to him. Maybe it’s just chemicals. The logics explanation. Imbalanced, skewed chemicals.

“Don’t worry, boy genius.” you respond, “You won’t get anything, not even a postcard, from me. It’ll be like I never even existed.” no trace. D.C has always been a monotone cesspit of nothing anyway.

It’s cruel. Because if you leave, truly leave. And he never hears from you again, never catches you in his kitchen, drinking coffee with an unadulterated smile, then he will begin to forget.

The curve of your spine, the scars beneath your chest, the way your fingers fit into his own. The way he was able to memorise your body until he could draw it in the dark, when your body was pressed to his, when there was nothing but a false establishment of safety.

He knows he can’t forget. Not technically. But it’ll grow distant, it’ll be replaced with new normals and routines. That, that, he can’t compute.

“Good,” he says, kissing you again, kissing you because this is it.

Spencer wants you. In every sense of the word, he wants you so badly it’s killing him.

His bedroom still holds traces of you. That, itself, is a crime. But he just falls into you. The way lovers do. Your hands against his skin— his hair threaded through your fingers, your lips at the base of his neck. He lets you leave another bruise, a mark, a confirmation of possession, because even if this is the last time, he is, and always will be yours.

“Still the prettiest person i’ve ever seen,” you admit when he’s flushed naked beneath you.

There’s something in those doe-eyes, brown irises blown out of proportion, that hooked you. Even at the worst, it was still soft with him.

Slender frame, slightly arched, you want to bite into his hips, mark every inch of him as yours. It’s greedy, gluttonous, his messy hair, fanning out like a halo, the tangled curls he never bothers to properly care for.

“God, fucking look at you,” you grip his jaw, tilt his head back to bare that blemished neck of his. To have and to own. He’s so inexplicably different to you, so good it runs down to the bone. And maybe you’ve always been insatiable for what you’ve lacked.

He can’t take this. He can’t, not again. The past, the future will have to dissolve with this moment, because there will never be another again.

You will never get this close to him. It’s a terrifying thought, that this’ll be the standard of intimacy, of love - because he knows it isn’t. But he can’t risk the reality he’s faced with, the reality of living without this. Of living without you.

Your words only make it worse. He wants to beg you to stop. To cease the torture.

“Shut up.” He kisses you, as if to remind you that your mouth is made for kissing, for his lips, for a litany of dirty words that he can’t bear to hear. Those words are for someone else. For someone similar. Not him. Never him.

Defying fate. He gets off on being something bad beneath the surface. No one would ever expect it; boyish maladroit Spencer, the youngest of the team, willingly allowing, condoning, a killer to sink into his skin.

“Don’t tell me to shut up,” you respond, muffled against his lips. “If this is the last time, i’m going to enjoy it. Going to enjoy the sight of you, all desperate for me alone.”

“You assume i’ve ever been desperate for anyone else—“ he counters.

“Oh, that’s it. Keep talking dirty to me.”

“It’s not dirty. It’s a factual statement.”

You pull away, a trail of saliva bridging the space between your mouths. If there is higher power at play here, you want to curse, to spite your creator. Because if ‘things’ had been different, if you had been born from the same rib, this could’ve ended differently.

Or for that matter, never ended at all.

“Sit there and watch me.” you say, and Spencer hates the way he obliges. Pushing himself up against the headboard, he stares at you, at the way you position yourself, standing by the foot of the bed.

“Do you even know what you do to me? Do you even understand the gravity your existence has on me?” you continue, unfastening the lace corset that clings to your frame. When it drops to the floor, breasts exposed, you run your hands across them, catching pierced nipples for a vindictive moment of pleasure.

“I— uh,” Spencer is admittedly a little distracted. Sex had always been something ruinous between you two. Something that conflicted his lack of experience, forced him to adapt.

He always wondered how someone so soft, the epitome of light, could be this obscene. Now he understands.

“Lost your words? Come on, pretty boy. I thought you had an ‘extensive vocabulary?’ Hm?”

He wants to touch himself, to ease the pulsing throb that centres in his cock. But he doesn’t, because despite the time that has passed, he still knows your rules. “Don’t use my words against me. I’m being tortured.”

“Tortured, huh?” your hands fumble over buttons until you’re reduced to a pair of panties, soaked throughly, leaving scarce to the imagination.

“So so tortured. Oh my god, who are you? Can I please have my soul back?” he’s joking, but not really.

“Well maybe if you beg for it,” your words fade into a mess of moans, fingers slipping beneath fabric to graze your clit. Spencer’s head spills back against the wall; he looks more affected by the movements than you.

It’s easy to fall back into old habits. Relapse.

“Come here, come here, i’m having an existential crisis.” he says, watching as you slip one finger, then two inside you, struggling to stand now. It’s strange how pleasure can reduce the most antagonising minds to vulnerability.

“Please— oh fuck, please. Please. Don’t make me watch, I can’t. Need you. Need you so bad.”

He thought he found the core of torture in you touching yourself, but he was wrong. Because when you crawl closer, when you slot yourself between his thighs, lips finding skin that only you have ever touched, he sees the root of evil in his brain. The ninth circle of hell.

It’s justified, he supposes. For all the good he’s done, he has betrayed. Himself, his friends, family, existence itself. There is not one thing he wouldn’t ruin, just to feel you. It’s incriminating, so yes, he deserves to freeze in Cocytus. He’ll willingly plead guilty, accept his entrapment in the ring of Caina.

“Poor baby, look at you.” you say, kissing his tip, catching the pre-cum on your tongue. Spencer responds: fisting bedsheets, fighting the restraint to buck forward, to find misplaced solace in the warmth of your mouth. He’s sprawled out across sheets now, lying back in a tangled heap of want. “Shh, it’s okay,” you continue, “I like my men desperate.”

“Desperate? Ah—,” he fights the urge to shut his eyes, too aware that this is the last memory he will ever retain of you.

You, painted into his mind. The final evidence left in the fire: mouth sinking down his length, taking him to the hilt, watery eyes and leaking mascara.

“This isn’t even desperation. You’re killing me. Just, oh oh— please, don’t. ‘M gonna cum. Gonna cum—“

Is it sick that he doesn’t want to? If only to prolong this transitory moment of destruction? Like the lotus eaters, he will always be mindless in the pursuit of more, more, more of you.

You draw back from his cock, only to press a soft kiss against the tip. The gesture alone has him reeling, has him begging to be saved, to atone for every sin he found in the comfort of your divinely crafted lips.

“Gonna let me sit on that pretty cock of yours, hm? Let me use you one last time? Promise i’ll be good,” a lie, “So so good.”

“God, yes. Yes, please. That would—“ You take him deep, deep enough that everything aches. He only feels alive when you’re wrapped around him, when there’s not an ounce of distance between your bodies, when he can touch the insides of you. Pry open the raw, unfiltered version of you.

He only feels alive when he’s sunk inside the harbinger of death. He’d laugh if it didn’t hurt.

You’ve got one hand tangled in your hair, the other pressed flat against his waist, supporting you through each bump of movement. Eyes like marbles, Spencer looks up, and wonders why this will never be enough for you.

You look back, meet his gaze, as if you’re Orpheus, predestined to turn around, to always return. Even if it’s just for one last second. Even if the fall-out is so much worse than pushing forward blindly.

Oh, hes certain you’re carving a hole inside him, something that will only grow and expand, imploring to be filled by it’s inventor. It’ll hurt, for the rest of time, he supposes.

When he finds your hand around his neck, he isn’t startled. Neither, when your thumb presses against his throat, applying pressure until the world cracks and fades, distorting his refined mind to the here and now. He floats, feeling transient in the curse of your touch.

“That’s it. Just let go. I’ve got you.”

He is a sacrificial lamb. The priests favourite. He will take the knife every time, and thank you for it after.

You release the tension, hand taking his instead. For all the cruelty you possess, you’d never think to harm him. Not physically at least. The emotional damage, however, finds you both. There can be no happiness in either of your worlds, not when the memory of each other festers. “Good boy— taking it so well. God, no one is ever gonna compare.”

He cries at the words. Pretty tears streaming down his face, because the reciprocation to his undying piety will forever trigger the warped chemicals in his brain. Will forever reduce him to something saccharine.

“Love you. Love you so much. Don’t go. Please,” he fractures, “please don’t go.” he begs, besmirched words he’ll regret in the wake of his pleasure. They don’t count, and yet, he knows, in the most depraved sections of his mind, they’re true.

You ride him harder. Back curved, finding god in the washed-out body of someone fatally destroyed. “Not going anywhere— fuck, fuckfuckfuck. That feels so good. You’re so good,” maybe it’s a kink to ruin something so perfectly spotless.

Maybe it’s a kink that he wants it.

“Say it. God, just say it. This once.” for old times sake, he almost adds. But that wouldn’t be objectively correct. For all the intimacy you shared, you never once articulated those three words. Perhaps it was to save your dignity, to hold pieces of yourself in the lies you beautifully crafted.

His thumb runs over your clit, and in the tangle of your orgasm, he almost thinks you forget about his demand. But after, when you’re still taking him, when you’re still clenching, unclenching, clenching around his cock, when you know you own every part of him, you answer.

“I love you.”

He falls apart. Hips canting, body squirming, whimper after whimper escaping his bruised lips as he releases inside of you. Pushed deep, defiled to the limit. For a moment, everything is okay, everything will be alright, because there’s pleasure, and it’s you. It’s always you.

How can he justify falling in love with you again? How can he, when he still clings onto the artificial love of the past? He’s not sure his heart can handle one set of feelings, nevermind two.

He takes you again, well… mostly you take him again. In ways that have him polluted with the remnants of your teeth. Canine marks, etched deep enough to bleed. He hopes the swelling leaves behind perennial scars, anything to remind him. Anything to hold onto when you’re gone and it’s cold.

After, when you lie together, he presses his forehead against yours and wishes he was in any other universe. One where you’re happy. Where everything is pure and simple, clean from sin.

There was always truth in what we shared before, you admit. Lazy nights spent draped over the couch, kissing him to silence convoluted rambles. Your presence in the morning, bathed in holy glow, sunlight bleeding over the pretty sight of you. The first night he touched you and saw god. And then the following night, when he ascended all over again.

He wakes to find no body. He wakes to find nothing. It feels like self-sabotage, the promise that you would leave, even if it’s quite the contrary.

In the absence, abstinence of your presence, he discovers traces of you in everything he sees, all of it, everything consumed, returning to the simple thought of you you you.

When the first postcard comes, Portland, dreary weather— beaches and ports, there’s no anger. No exasperation that you broke your word.

You love him, it’s morbid, but for someone like him, it overrules everything. Sanity, dignity, his own stable existence.

You overrule everything.

[r4spb3rr13s]

i saw the news :( however i have come to re-enter! So my mcbling angel, could we pretty please get a part 3 of meet mcbling hotties with maybe shigiraki, sabi, maybe a little twice, maaaybe a little gentle criminal.... i luv u and ur my bae as well cutie >3<

- 🍥 anon

villains meeting their mcbling gf

♱ shigaraki, twice

♱ pt.1 here pt.2 here

notes: dabi is in part one!! also this may be ooc 😔 and sorry bby but i have no clue how to write gentle criminal 😓

Tomura is in his usual spot, staring the TV down with enough rage to burn holes in the screen. Naturally, it’s because All Might is on screen. Like always.

The bar is in a low hum, filled with smoke from Dabi’s refusal to step out to huff on his cigarette. Spinner and Toga are playing cards, and her giggles bounce off the walls. Other than that, it’s fairly quiet.

Until the door creaks open. Then it’s silent.

And there… you stood. Awkwardly.

Tomura’s head snapped towards you with a sickening crunch resounding through the air. Any words he had reering up are stuck in his throat, though.

The light is shaping you like an angel. A very promiscuous angel, that is. A tight, pink dress hugs your curves and the platform wedges you have on accentuate every step your fake-tanned legs take.

“Uh… Himiko?”

Said girl squeals, and her chair scratches across the floor like nails on a chalkboard as she jumps up. Tomura watches as she runs up to you and wraps you in a hug.

“What the fuck…” Dabi trails off, eyes pointed at Tomura. Everyone is looking at Tomura, trying to gage his reaction. It snaps him out of his stupor.

“Toga, who is this?” He rasps out, pointing a lazy knuckle at you. His eyes barely flit over you, but when they do, you see a small bit of pink blossom on his pale face.

It’s weirdly cute.

Himiko squeezes you so hard you think she might suffocate you to death. I mean, you wouldn’t put it past her, but still.

“This is Y/n!!”

She is met with blank stares.

You roll your eyes and shrug her off, making her pout. Taking a cautious step forward, you catch Tomura’s eye - you know exactly who he is.

You’ve admired him for a while, and the League, in silence. You’ve been on chat rooms with a false IP address, watched their dark-web videos, heard their lackeys talking in the darker parts of town.

Himiko found you when you were talking to one of the lackeys, and surprise, surprise, took a liking to you. She gushed about the League, and weirdly…

You wanted in.

You strode forward, ignoring the room’s eyes on you - you were just focused on Tomura Shigaraki.

He watched you with stiff, darting red eyes. It was like he couldn’t decide where to rest his eyes - everytime he moved his gaze, there was your soft, glowy skin or something pink or patterned or your soft hair-

“Y/n L/n,” You said and held your hand out.

Tomura watched your hand as he leant on his own hand. His lip curled and you faltered. But, he fished out a thick-lined glove, slipped it on, and grabbed your hand.

His eyes fell on yours as your hands shook. The pink on his face was almost the same colour as your dress, and his cracked lip twitched.

“I’m here to join, by the way.” You clarify, heat rising to your own cheeks.

Your hand is still in his. Tomura notices and drops you like a hot pan, quickly looking away. He mutters a small, ‘okay’ and notions for a pen from Kurogiri - another member you’re familiar with.

Tomura scribbled something down with his thick glove on, muttering under his breath in a raspy, crisp voice. The sound cuts through the thick air and makes the hair on the back of your neck.

He stops writing and holds out the paper to you. It’s… a number. You almost facepalm.

You cock a brow, and Tomura goes pink again, but refuses to look at you.

He clears his throat, itching his neck absent mindedly. “I’m busy now. Call me later and we’ll talk about your membership.”

:::

Jin is tired. Spent. Exhausted. Fatigued. He’s practically swaying on his feet as he breathes in the smoke from his cigarette. He nods at Dabi as he walks past and enters the dingy bar.

If he could just close his eyes-

A loud whistle rings through the air, and for a startling moment, Jin thinks he’s getting hit on by the builders across the street. Until you come into view.

Your confident stride falters and he watched with an open jaw as you pause to scream at the men in hi-vis.

There’s a small, douchey part of him that can’t even blame them - you’re gorgeous!

Your tattered denim shorts sit low on your hips, and the majority of your torso is on show in the low light of dusk. A small, pink tube top is wrapped around your chest, and big jewellery jangled with every finger you jab as you scream.

Your verbal assault on the builders finally halts when they let out a hurried apology and decide to get back to work. With a sigh, you push your hair out of your face and move on.

Well, you would if there wasn’t another guy in your way.

He’s tall, muscular and blond, with eyebags that rivalled the purple of your velvet bag. The smoke from the cigarette in between his fingers is curling around his neck like a choker, and brought stark attention to his agape mouth. You scoff.

“What? Want your turn?”

“Yes please- no, no thanks-” He barks out, then covers his mouth. Pink spreads across his cheeks from under his hand, and you cock a brow.

“…Yes or no?”

“Yes-no-”

The poor guy seemed torn. He was muttering to himself now, back rigid and face pink. It was… endearing in a way.

You cast a short glance back to the builders, and Jin takes the moment to drink in the size of the silver hoops hung either side of your face. He could probably fit his hand through them, they’re so big. Or-

“Listen, you’re cute… so I’ll give you number,” You mutter and take a short step towards him. Your sparkly eyes search his face, and he curtly nods, still as pink as bubblegum. “Okay, just, if they ask, I was giving you directions.”

Again, he nods. Like a well behaved dog, you think.

The poor man is left in a mental battle watching you leave. He does know for sure, though, the paper clutched in his hand with your number on is becoming his most sacred possession.

:::

notes: THIS SHIT IS NOT PROOFREAD IM SORRY 😭

taglist: @marzkqx @aespie @itzlittlemissperfect @im-so-tired-sorry @mangalovesanime-blog @livingmydreamlife5555

[heejake-hoon]

Synopsis: you made Jake a little jealous, and now you have to face the consequences.

Tags: smut, mdni, name calling (cumslut, fuckdoll...), unprotected sex, hair pulling, light choking?, kind of possessive Jake.

note: not proof read, also rushed

-

You gasp as Jake slams you against the wall, crowding into your space until you're enveloped by his heat, his scent, his sheer overwhelming presence. His hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back sharply to bare the column of your throat to his darkened gaze.

"You've been acting like a little brat all night," he growls, nose skimming along your jawline. "Teasing me, flirting with other guys, making me fucking crazy with jealousy. Is this what you wanted, hmm? Wanted me to snap? To put you in your place?"

His other hand comes up to wrap around your throat, fingers flexing warningly. Your pulse flutters wildly against his palm and you swallow hard, mouth going dry at the dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Jake, I-" you start, but he cuts you off with a harsh squeeze to your windpipe, just hard enough to make you light-headed.

"Shut up," he snarls, free hand gripping roughly your breast through your shirt. "You don't get to play coy now, Y/N. Not after you spent the whole fucking night acting like a shameless little cocktease.” he squeezes the flesh in his hand harder making you moan “No, you wanted this. Wanted me to remind you who you belong to, didn't you? Wanted me to stake my fucking claim?"

You whimper, knees going weak as he rolls your nipple between unforgiving fingers. Slowly, deliberately, you nod, holding his dark gaze with your own. Something like triumph flashes across Jake's face and your stomach swoops in anticipation.

"That's what I thought," he says lowly, leaning in until his lips brush the shell of your ear. "You're mine, Y/N. This body is mine.” he tugs on ur nipple making you whimper in pain and arousal. “And I think it's time I reminded you of that fact."

Suddenly, he's spinning you around, shoving you face-first against the wall and yanking your skirt up around your waist. You yelp as he rips your panties clean off, the delicate lace giving way easily under his impatient hands.

"Fuck, look at you," Jake groans, trailing teasing fingers through your dripping folds. "Already so wet for me, baby. So desperate for my cock. I bet you'd let me fuck you right here, where anyone could walk by and see what a needy little slut you are, huh?"

"Yes," you gasp out, arching back into his touch shamelessly. "Yes, Jake, please, want you so bad-"

He chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers racing down your spine. "Oh, I know you do, sweetheart. And I'm going to give it to you. I'm going to fuck this greedy cunt so hard you forget your own name...."

Jake's fingers wrap around your throat from behind, cutting off your air supply and making your head swim. Your cunt clenches hard around nothing, a broken moan escaping your lips as he notches the thick head of his cock against your entrance.

"Gonna feel so good choking on my dick," he rasps, rolling his hips torturously slow, barely breaching you. "Gonna look so pretty with tears in your eyes, fighting for every breath while I split you open. You want that, baby? Want me to wreck this pussy, want me to make you see fucking stars?"

"Please," you whimper, scrabbling for purchase against the wall as he drives into you harder, deeper. "Jake, fuck, need it, need you to- ah!"

Your words dissolve into a high, keening cry as he bottoms out, pushing the air from your lungs and making you roll your eyes. Jake sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against your ass as he rails you, fingers tightening around your windpipe until you're dizzy with it, until your lungs burn and your cunt throbs and you can't tell up from down.

"That's it, take it," he grits out through clenched teeth, angling his thrusts to hit that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. "Fucking take my cock like the desperate little cumslut you are. Gonna stuff you so full of my dick you'll be feeling it for days.” He pulled away until only his tip was inside before slamming hard into you, earning a small cry from you as you started to lose it. “fuckkk, gonna paint this pussy white, plug you up and send you out there dripping with my fucking spend."

You keen brokenly, walls starting to flutter around him as black spots crowd the edges of your vision. You're right on the knife's edge of too much, the pleasure bordering on pain as Jake fucks into you relentlessly, choking you within an inch of your life.

"Jake," you rasp, scrabbling behind you to grab his wrist, nails biting into his skin. "Jake, 'm gonna come, gonna-"

"Do it," he snarls, doubling his efforts, slamming into you so hard your feet nearly leave the ground. "Come on my cock, Y/N. Fucking soak me, let me feel you shake apart-"

His words, his touch, the sweet ache of your lungs screaming for air - it's all too much. With a silent scream, you shatter, clamping down around him rhythmically as ecstasy crashes over you in blinding waves.

Jake swears in aw, hips stuttering as your cunt milks him for all he's worth. A few more erratic thrusts and he's coming too, muffling his groan against your shoulder as he spills deep inside you, marking you from the inside out.

Slowly, carefully, he loosens his grip on your throat, letting you suck in greedy lungfuls of air. You slump against the wall, knees giving out, but Jake is there to catch you, strong arms banding around your waist and holding you steady.

"I've got you," he murmurs, pressing soft kisses to your hair, your temple, your cheek. "You did so well for me, baby. Took everything I gave you like a champ. My good girl, my perfect little fuckdoll..."

You can only whimper in response, too dazed and dick drunk to form words. Jake chuckles, low against your skin, as he gathers you into his arms and carries you to the bedroom.

He lays you out on the sheets almost reverently, crawling over you and peppering your face with tender kisses. "I love you," he says quietly, smoothing your hair back from your sweat-damp brow. "I love you so fucking much, Y/N. You drive me crazy in the best possible way."

You hum contentedly, looping your arms around his neck and tugging him down into a slow, sweet kiss. "I love you too," you murmur against his lips. "Even when you're being a jealous caveman."

Jake grins, unrepentant. "Hey, I warned you when we started dating that I was the possessive type. Not my fault you didn't believe me."

You roll your eyes fondly, trailing idle fingers down his spine. "Mm, well, maybe I should tease you more often then. If this is the result..."

Jake's eyes flash with heat and he nips at your bottom lip in admonishment. "Careful what you wish for, brat," he warns playfully. "Keep it up and I really will fuck you in public next time. Bend you over the hood of the car and eat your cunt right there in the parking lot where anyone could see."

[rikupid]

sloppy seconds (study buddies pt. 2)

wc: 4.7k

warnings: f!reader, threesome between you + doyoung + haechan, sub!haechan, switch!reader, dom!doyoung, cuckolding, degradation, humiliation, voyeurism, unprotected sex, cum play, breeding kink, dacryphilia, doyoung is shy at first then becomes mean, haechan gets ignored and cries a lot, everyone’s a bit perverted, haechan finds a new study buddy (sorry doyoung)

a/n: this is part 4 to me and @haetrack’s nerd!haechan series but can also be read as a standalone! our idea that finally made it out the dms can u believe it.. this is literally pure filth btw. part 3 (doyoung being added into this mess) can be read here on val’s account!

haechan lost. he made a stupid bet, too caught up in his own pride, and he lost.

it’s not like he failed his exam. he did great, sure, but he still lost. to make things even more humiliating, he lost by one point. you consoled him, telling him that it was okay, but even then he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he messed up.

he’s jealous, the feeling eating him up inside knowing that doyoung, who was his favorite study buddy, is probably up right now, gloating in his glory and imagining everything he’s gonna do when he gets his hands on you.

if this were under normal circumstances, haechan might not have minded inviting doyoung over to have a threesome with his girlfriend. he thinks of himself as someone who’s generous, one that's willing to share if the situation was right, and he’s close enough with doyoung that it wouldn’t necessarily be weird. but this isn’t under normal circumstances and haechan’s only sharing you because he lost a bet.

for once, haechan thinks that he might actually hate life. he decides that this is all probably just some sick joke the universe decided to play on him, and unfortunately for the universe, haechan doesn’t really find it funny.

frustration heavy on his mind, haechan pulls out his phone and opens up his messages with doyoung. if he was going to even consider going through with this bet, they needed to talk.

haechan: we need 2 talk

haechan: about the bet.

doyoung: oh?

haechan: ur lucky she even agreed

doyoung: didn’t you make the bet assuming that she would already? lol

haechan: whatever. just come over tmrw and we’ll talk

haechan: [address attached]

when doyoung comes over, it’s awkward.

you’re sitting on the couch with haechan next to you and the air in the room is tense with doyoung’s presence. he’s sitting across from you two, eyes darting around the room nervously. he realizes that in reality, meeting up with your friend to have a threesome with his girlfriend isn’t as easy as it sounds. is he supposed to look at you? make the first move? doyoung’s head hurts thinking about the situation.

it probably doesn’t help that haechan, your boyfriend, is staring hard at doyoung. you place a hand on his thigh, trying to comfort him while also trying to get him to stop.

“hi doyoung,” you greet, smiling warmly. if haechan wasn’t going to speak and doyoung was too nervous to even look at you, you had no option but to take the initiative.

doyoung falters, staring at you for a few moments before opening his mouth to respond. “hey, __,” he greets back. he gulps, nerves getting the best of him. he runs a hand through his hair, desperately trying to ignore how intensely haechan is staring at him from the corner of his eye.

“thanks for coming over to-”

“okay,” haechan cuts you off, “no more small talk!” he didn’t like the fact that you two were about to have a conversation about this without him. if he wasn’t going to get the first say, this wasn’t going to happen at all. sue him for being a bit possessive, but how else was he supposed to react knowing that right after this, doyoung was going to be fucking you? “there’s no need for,” he pauses, waving his hands around in gesture, “all this. i’m already humiliated enough, okay? let’s just get this over with.”

you side-eye him, noticing the growing blush on your boyfriend’s face. he’s embarrassed and almost as nervous as doyoung is.

“first of all, you can’t cum in her, okay? that’s.. that’s weird and she’s mine, so don’t get any stupid ideas. you should be grateful i’m even letting you touch her at all,” haechan mutters, suddenly avoiding eye contact with doyoung. this was so humiliating to talk about, especially with you right next to him.

doyoung runs a hand through his hair again, nodding. he glances at you, then haechan, then back to you. “is there anything else off limits?” he asks, his gaze subtly dropping down to your lips.

haechan catches this, huffing. “stop staring at her like that, man! you can.. you can kiss her, i guess. only if she wants! w-we’re not vanilla or anything like that, so that’s the only thing that’s off limits,” he frowns. the clarification was unnecessary, but he didn’t need doyoung getting any ideas about what their sex life was like.

“i don’t mind if you kiss me, doyoung,” you add in, squeezing haechan’s thigh. it was a warning, telling him to be nice.

“o-okay, yeah. i got it,” doyoung says, exhaling nervously. he runs a hand through his hair one more time. now that the rules were out there, it was awkward again. he still didn’t know how to approach this, his mind racing with different kinds of thoughts. he glances between you and haechan, uncertainty clear on his face.

a few moments pass and still, doyoung hasn’t moved. this only frustrates haechan because seriously? he gave doyoung the opportunity to touch his girlfriend and he wants to be nervous about it?

if doyoung won’t make a move, haechan will. he turns to you, leaning forward to kiss you. it’s rushed, messy, and bordering on desperate when he kisses you, hands immediately coming to grope at your skin. he’s eager, you can tell, trying to get doyoung to do something.

you pull away from the kiss, pushing haechan back by his chest. “s-slow down, babe,” you gasp out, just barely short of breath. he goes for your neck instead, leaving wet and sloppy kisses anywhere he can reach. you place a hand in his hair and yank him away from your neck, frowning. “you know your manners. doyoung’s our guest and we should welcome him properly.” haechan only whines at this, unhappy with the interruption.

doyoung, with his hands gripping his thighs, looks like he’s seen a ghost. this was weird and intruding on so many levels, yet he feels his dick growing harder as the seconds go by. you were so hot and he badly needed to be in haechan’s place, kissing and touching all over your body.

“come here, doyoung,” you call out to him, moving your attention away from haechan. you notice his bulge and giggle, the thought of having two men desperate to be all over you making you giddy.

doyoung gets up from his seat, slowly making his way to you as you beckon him over with a finger. with a newfound confidence and his dick doing the thinking for him, he leans down to connect his lips with yours.

kissing doyoung is different than kissing haechan, you note, closing your eyes. doyoung’s more controlling than haechan is, taking what he wants without asking. his hands cup your face, tilting your head upwards for a better angle. while haechan is pliant and submissive, letting you kiss him as you please, doyoung is demanding and forward.

you moan into the kiss when you feel his hands start to roam, touching and groping your body everywhere he can, as if trying familiarize himself with it. it’s so much and you feel dizzy from the way doyoung kisses you.

a loud whine breaks the moment and you pull away from doyoung, turning to look at haechan. he’s staring at you two, brows furrowed, and clearly upset. he wasn’t used to the attention being on somewhere other than him during sex, and quite frankly, he didn’t like it. not having your attention pains him, especially when it’s on doyoung instead of him. he may have lost a bet to him, but this? this wasn’t fair.

you shush haechan, telling him to be quiet, and ignore his whines of protest. haechan tries not to think about the way his dick twitches in his pants at the quick dismission.

doyoung, finding the whole situation amusing, laughs at how easily haechan folds because of you. his suspicions that haechan liked being pushed around in bed were true, and a fleeting thought about just how far he’ll go to please you crosses his mind. he puts a hand on your cheek, turning your face back to him and leans down to connect your lips in yet another heated kiss.

you cup doyoung through his sweatpants, feeling his bulge, and gasp into the kiss. doyoung is big, bigger than haechan, and the fact makes you smile. he breaks away, moaning against your neck as you palm him through his sweats. “fuck,” he moans, hips bucking into your hand. it’s good, overwhelmingly so, and he hasn’t even gotten to fuck you yet.

doyoung thinks that months of sad, heartwrenching sex with nobody but your ex will do that to a man. this is new, and good, and so fucking overwhelming.

“you’re so big,” you whisper into his ear, sliding your hand inside his pants and past his boxers, touching his cock. he groans at the contact, cursing once more.

“yeah?” he mumbles against your neck, grinding into your hand. “bet i’m bigger than haechan,” he adds on, “bet i’ll fuck you better than him too.”

you nod, the words making you throb in your panties.

haechan is quick to protest, frustrated with how he’s just been getting ignored. “that’s not–that’s not true!” he whines. doyoung was not going to fuck his own girlfriend better than him. it didn’t matter if his dick was bigger. he refused to let that to happen.

doyoung pushes you back against the couch, caging you in and sliding a hand down into your pants. he rubs at your clit through the fabric of your panties, making you moan.

“it is true, haechan,” he laughs, “i bet you can’t touch her properly either.” he connects your lips in another kiss, continuing his touch. you’re so wet, soaking through your panties, and it’s driving him crazy. between kisses, he asks, “he doesn’t know how to touch you the way you need it, hm? need me to do it cause he can’t?”

haechan’s humiliated hearing this, shaking his head even though neither of you are paying him any attention. this is so unfair, he thinks again. he does know how to please you and how to touch you. doyoung’s words were just stupid and untrue. what’s stupider is the way he’s so hard, cock straining against his pants while he’s watching doyoung touch you like he’s not even there.

“y-yeah,” you agree, throwing your head back with another moan, “so much better with you, doyoung, fuck.” his hand is inside your panties now, feeling your cunt and just how wet you truly are. his fingers tease along your folds before moving back to rub your clit. the touch is foreign, different than the way haechan touches you, yet you still can’t get enough of it.

haechan hates this. he hates everything about this situation and he’s embarrassed because he he likes it. he likes the humiliation and the way you two ignore him. it makes his stomach twist in unexplainable ways and his cock throbs in his pants every time you tell him to shush or to be quiet.

doyoung is kissing down your neck when you finally call haechan over, deciding to spare him just a little. he scurries to the other end of the couch, desperate for at least some kind of attention. his eyes are wide, silently begging, and he can’t help the whine that leaves his mouth as he gets closer to you.

he tries to ignore that doyoung is right there next to him, hands roaming freely inside your panties while haechan can’t even touch.

you grab him by his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. you love when he gets like this, so needy and desperate for your touch. breaking away, you ask, “you gonna be good and wait, hm? let doyoung have his turn while you sit–fuck–sit there and watch?” it’s difficult to focus with the way doyoung is touching you, his fingers hitting all the right spots.

dumbly, haechan nods. he’ll be good, he thinks, even if the image of doyoung fucking you makes him want to cry.

“good, baby,” you whisper, kissing him again. “take us to the bedroom so you can show doyoung just how good you are, okay?”

haechan watches from the corner of the bed as doyoung peels off your shirt.

you’re laughing, amused by the way doyoung’s eyes widen as he gropes at your chest. it’s experimental and slow, not familiar like the way haechan touches you.

haechan knows he can make you feel better faster than doyoung can. doyoung’s taking his time, learning what you like, but haechan knows. he knows what gets you going and what makes you moan the loudest. it’s frustrating to watch. he wishes he could just show doyoung how much better he is, but he promised to be good.

as doyoung’s hands roam across your bare skin, haechan can only watch as he lets his palm subtly grind against his clothed clock, taking off a little bit of the edge. his cock is so hard it hurts. he wishes he were touching you instead.

doyoung’s whispering words into your ear that are too soft for haechan to hear. it’s as if he’s not even there and doyoung’s your boyfriend instead.

haechan watches as you get manhandled by doyoung, placed prettily in his lap, and watches as he spreads your legs apart. you’re on display, cunt glistening right in front of haechan’s face, and all he can do is watch. he’s staring hard at your core, zeroing in on the way doyoung’s fingers start to carefully dip inside you. he starts with two, slowly starting to pump them in and out of you.

“god, you’re beautiful,” doyoung whispers against your skin. you’re dripping, clenching hard around his fingers as he fucks you. they’re so long, reaching deep inside you and curling just right against your sweet spot. “it’s a shame haechan didn’t share you sooner,” he continues, his free hand coming up to grope at your breasts again.

“doyoung–mmh–doyoung, please,” you gasp as he starts to pick up the pace, fingers pumping in and out of you quickly. a loud squelch sounds as does, your pussy sucking his fingers in even deeper. the sound is embarrassing and it makes you flush a bright red. “d-doyoung,” you moan, throwing your head back on his shoulder and trying again.

“hm?” he hums, smiling against your neck. he’s staring right into haechan’s eyes, a mean look in his eye.

doyoung wants to humiliate haechan and show him that no matter what he does, he’s still going to be better. haechan’s girlfriend is in his lap, cunt dripping around his fingers, and moaning out his name, not haechan’s.

haechan feels stuck when he stares back at doyoung.

you’re oblivious to the silent interaction, too caught up in the way doyoung’s fingers feel inside of you to notice. you moan as he slips in a third, stretching your hole and making you feel full. suddenly, all you can think about is how badly you want his cock inside you.

“you’re so fucking wet,” doyoung groans, looking away from haechan to kiss down your neck. “it’s all for me, isn’t it? not your boyfriend?” he asks, curling his fingers inside you again. the words make you whine and nod, overwhelmed by doyoung’s words and the way he touches you.

you know haechan’s watching, pathetically palming himself through his boxers, and you can’t help but play things up a little. “w-want your cock, doyoung,” you moan, “please, i need it!”

haechan whimpers, hips bucking up into his hand. he’s ashamed, cock twitching as he realizes just how turned on he is by his girlfriend moaning another man’s name. this is so wrong, he thinks. you’ve tuned him out completely, attention purely on doyoung, and yet he’s still so turned on.

doyoung pulls his fingers out of you, wiping them on the sheets, and quickly manhandles you onto your back. you whine at the loss of his fingers, clenching around nothing. you need him to fuck you now and the wait is driving you mad.

“c’mon, fuck me already,” you whine, rolling your hips.

he laughs, moving to kneel between your legs. “yeah? need my cock that badly?” he asks, hands teasing along your thighs. “beg me for it,” he whispers, “beg for my cock and maybe i’ll give it to you.”

doyoung’s doing this on purpose and you know it. you know he wants to humiliate haechan, wants to make you beg for another man’s cock that isn’t his. you know and you like it.

“fuck me, please,” you beg, spreading your legs wider. “want your cock, doyoung. fuck me like i deserve, please.”

“that’s it, baby,” doyoung groans, spitting into his hand and slowly starting to stroke his cock. his tip is bright red and leaking from how badly he wants you. “just a little more,” he beckons, “need to know you really want it.”

haechan wishes the ground would just swallow him whole. tears are starting to well up in his eyes as he listens to you beg and he wishes you would just look at him. doyoung isn’t that good. he can’t be, haechan thinks, trying to console himself.

doyoung teases the tip of his cock against your hole, just barely pushing in.

“please, doyoung,” you try again, wrapping your legs around his waist. he’s so close yet still so far.

without warning, doyoung pushes in, bottoming out in one go. a moan rips from your throat at the sudden intrusion, his cock stuffing you full.

“look at that,” he mumbles, eyes glued to the way you’re practically sucking him in, pussy clenching hard around his cock. “so fucking tight,” doyoung groans, lightly thrusting. he’s letting you adjust, hips barely moving, and it’s still so much. you squeeze your eyes shut and whimper from how big he feels inside you.

haechan reaches inside his boxers, pulling out his neglected cock with a cry. he can’t tear his eyes away from the sight of doyoung fucking you, no matter how much he claims to hate it.

you open your eyes, turning your head to look at your boyfriend and the teary look in his eye. “d-don’t you dare touch yourself, haechan. i told you to be good,” you say, ignoring how this makes him whine even more.

you turn back to doyoung, rolling your hips and begging for him to move.

doyoung grips your waist and slowly starts to thrust inside you, his thick cock dragging against your walls. you were so tight around him, making him moan as he starts to fuck you faster. his pace is relentless as his hips snap against yours, cock sinking deeper and deeper.

“s-shit,” he groans, the lewd sound of skin slapping filling the room. “you were made to take it, weren’t you? m-made to take my cock,” doyoung grunts, glasses starting to slip off his face from how hard he was fucking you.

“oh my g-god,” you moan, pussy clenching tightly around him. you can barely think, the pleasure and doyoung’s cock inside you making you lose your mind.

doyoung slows down, stopping his thrusts completely before bringing a hand up to fix his glasses. you whine as he stops, trying to get him to move again.

he turns to look at haechan, a mean smile on his face. he gently starts to thrust inside you again, all while keeping eye contact with him. “look at this, haechan,” doyoung calls, “look at how she’s sucking me in. let’s make a bet on who fucks her better, yeah? you’ll lose that too, won’t you haechan?”

doyoung’s words are mean and haechan’s not sure he can take it. he shakes his head, trying to defend himself. “that’s not–that’s not true, doyoung,” he whines, gripping the base of his cock so he doesn’t cum. he can’t even look at doyoung anymore.

“c’mon, doyoung,” you beg, wanting him to pick up the pace, “ignore him and fuck me, please.”

doyoung turns back to you, leaning down to kiss you. he slams his hips into you, fucking you fast and hard. you moan into his mouth and wrap your arms around his neck, hole twitching around his cock as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

his kisses trail down to your neck and his glasses are starting to fog up from how hot it is in the room. he moans against your skin every time you clench around him, thrusts starting to get more and more desperate. doyoung fucks you faster, pounding into your messy cunt as he feels himself getting close. he brings a hand down to rub your at clit in time with his thrusts, causing you to cry out.

“i’m c-close, fuck,” doyoung moans against your neck. you’re clinging onto his back, moans loud as you try to keep up with his pace. “tell me you’re close, baby,” he begs, grunting as your walls squeeze him impossibly tighter.

too overwhelmed to speak, you nod and your thighs start to shake. all it takes is one more deep thrust from doyoung before you’re cumming, shocks of pleasure washing over your body and your pussy spasming around his cock. “doyoung,” you moan out, hands flying to his hair.

“that’s it,” doyoung grunts, hips starting to lose their rhythm as he feels you cum around him. his dick twitches inside you, so close to cumming, before he quickly pulls out, leaving your hole gaping.

he sits back on his heels, quickly starting to jerk himself off. finally, he cums with a loud groan, dick twitching in his hand before he spills all over you, painting your stomach white. he’s panting, looking down at you with a dark look in his eye, almost as if he’s admiring his work.

you’re a mess, makeup smeared and hair all over the place, and it’s all because of doyoung. his cum paints your skin, and to him, it’s art.

doyoung turns to look at haechan, wanting to brag in his face. the sight is pathetic. haechan is stroking his cock, tip leaking, and all thoughts of waiting for permission to touch himself fly out the window. he just watched his girlfriend get fucked by another man and now he badly needs to cum.

coming back to your senses, you sit up against the headboard and turn your attention back to haechan. “don’t you even think about cumming, haechan. come here,” you demand, “you know what’s gonna happen if you cum without my permission.”

haechan full on sobs at this, pulling his hand away from his cock. his hips buck in the air and you hear doyoung laugh beside you, humiliating haechan even further. tears are rolling down his face as he desperately crawls across the bed to you, kneeling between your spread legs.

“l-let me touch you, please,” he begs, hiccuping. “i’ve been good, just please let me touch,” haechan goes on, babbling about how badly he needs you. his poor cock hangs heavy between his legs, neglected and leaking.

“shh,” you coo, wiping a tear from his eye. “you wanna touch me?”

haechan frantically nods, nearly knocking his glasses off his face.

“i’ll let you touch me, hyuckie,” you whisper, leaning back. “clean me up and i’ll let you touch, okay?” you ask, smiling.

haechan freezes, looking between you and the cum on your stomach. it’s doyoung’s cum that’s all over your body, not his. “clean.. clean that?”

“i thought you wanted to be good?” you ask, placing a hand in his hair and pulling his head down to your stomach. “are you gonna be good or not?”

doyoung’s eyes widen at the situation before he grins. the thought of just how far haechan will go to please you crosses his mind again.

haechan’s face crumples as he sticks out his tongue, licking up the first drop of doyoung’s cum. it’s gross, humiliating, and the taste is strange, but he wants to be good. he looks up at you, tongue traveling across your stomach as he licks up the rest of the cum.

your breath hitches as you watch him and you bite your lip, keeping a hand in his hair.

haechan whimpers as he finally licks up the last drop, a stray tear rolling down his cheek. you yank him up by his hair and connect your lips in a heated kiss. he’s needy, already forgetting about the fact that he just licked doyoung’s cum from your body and thinking only about how he needs to fuck you.

his hands are all over your body, touching anywhere and everywhere after being deprived for so long. he whines against your lips, pulling away to catch his breath.

“please let me fuck you,” he begs, too desperate to think clearly anymore. “please, baby, need to fuck you.”

you shush him, wrapping a hand around his aching cock. “you think you deserve it?” you ask, slowly starting to stroke him. haechan whimpers, hips bucking into your hand. he nods, trying not to cum on the spot.

you turn your head to doyoung who’s sitting right next to you, “should i let him?”

doyoung looks haechan up and down, taking in his pathetic state, and decides to be nice. “let him fuck you. he listened good enough, i think.”

haechan feels relief wash over him at doyoung’s answer, silently thanking him in his head. “come on, please,” he begs you again, leaning down to kiss you on the corner of your mouth. haechan thinks he might die if he doesn’t get to fuck you in the next five seconds.

you let go of his cock, spreading your legs further. “fuck me, baby. show me how much you need me.”

haechan wastes no time, grabbing the base of his cock and guiding it to your entrance, bottoming out in one thrust. he feels tears well up in his eyes again at the feeling of your warm walls around his cock. “f-fuck,” he whines, squeezing his eyes shut. being inside you is almost too much.

your hole spasms around his cock, still sensitive from the way doyoung fucked you before. “i want you to cum, hyuckie. you deserve it, don’t you think?”

haechan nods and starts to frantically snap his hips against yours, fucking you like his life depends on it. his thrusts are sloppy with no rhythm, driven purely by want and the need to cum. all he can think about is how he needs to fill you up and show doyoung that he’s the only one who can do this.

you throw your head back with a moan, caging haechan in with your legs. “t-that’s it, baby,” you praise, “cum for me.”

haechan cries out as he feels your walls tighten around him again, hips stuttering. he thrusts in one more time before finally letting go, spilling his cum deep inside you. you pull him down for another kiss, moaning into his mouth.

you pull away, caressing his face. he flops down against you, cock going soft and slipping out. his glasses are gone too, lost somewhere in the sheets and left behind in a fit of desperation. you giggle when you notice this, wrapping your arms around him.

“thank you,” he mumbles, face dropping down to hide in your neck. he’s exhausted and currently rethinking his life choices.

doyoung clears his throat, pushing his glasses up his nose. “that was.. wow,” he says stupidly, looking between you two. he’s satisfied yet suddenly feeling like he’s intruding.

you giggle, running your fingers through haechan’s hair while you look at doyoung. “i almost want to say thank you for winning,” you teasingly say to him.

doyoung, suddenly shy, bites his lip and asks, “was it.. was it good? better than haechan, i mean?”

at this, haechan whips his head up, whining. “stop! that’s not–no! i’m never making another bet with you again after this, doyoung! this was the first and the last,” he grumbles, squinting at his study mate.

you and doyoung both laugh at his words. “i was kidding,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender. “i see why you two are together. you’re…” he pauses, flashbacks of everything replaying in his mind, “let’s just say you’re good for each other?” the laugh that follows is nervous, almost like he’s not sure how to explain.

haechan decides that he’s definitely opening up applications for a new study buddy after this.

a/n: umm.. hrts4doie first fic who else cheered!! i just want to say THAAANNNKKK YOU SOO MUCCHH to val aka @haetrack for coming up with this series with me and also helping me write parts of this!! im soooo excited to finally be posting this and completing the nerd!haechan series but i love nerd!doyoung so bad i just might write more of him. anyways i hope u guys enjoyed and lmk what u thought!!

tags: @haetrack @beidouvv

[ssparksflyy]

hello! can i request jason grace or leo valdez x child of hypnos reader ? (gn) 🫶🏻🫶🏻

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

jason grace dating hcs! ٩(ˊ〇ˋ*) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

pairing: jason grace x child of hypnos!reader warning(s): none!! js fluff :) a/n: i love children of hypnos, u stay sleepy ! also me writing this running off five hours of sleep ( the most ive gotten this week ) yikes..

mr gets up willingly at six am nd his sleepy lover ♡

there are times where u literally have to beg jason to go back to bed cause omfg what r u doing. its six am. no u r not going to go run. no the early bird doesnt get the worm. go. back. to. sleep.

hey nd most times it works cause the thought of holding u close and a sweet sweet dream is enough to get him back in bed

but other times noooo he goes running 🙄

what is bro running from? sleep???

omg but then literally knocks tf out by like nine

one of the times when you had a sleepover planned together

you were running a little late cause ur cabin's ac wasnt working nd everybody was tweaking out

so you had to stay behind and help fix it

by the time you finished and ran over to cabin one , jason was already passed out nd lightly snoring 😭

mind you it was like 9:15 pm

its ok tho u were tired asf too , who knew fixing the ac could be so hard ??

he apologized sm in the morning tho

but u were like its okay el oh el

he cant help it bro he needs his sleep almost as much as he needs you

its better that he falls asleep early than stay up super late tho

cause like when he was helping plan out the new cabins, it was impossible to convince him to go to sleep

he wouldnt stop working nd u were like 😠 fool 😠 go to sleep 😠

nd he was like no thank youuuuu ♡

so you used your powers on him cause he hadNT SLEPT IN DAYS

u were both mad at each other in the morning and things were painfully tense

but you sat down nd talked it out like mature ppl ♡

he srsly hates fighting, he already does it with monsters nd shit so much, he doesnt want to do it w you :(

he apologized for being ignorant and promised he would be better about taking care of himself instead of burying himself in work

you apologized for using your powers on him without saying anything first, and promised you wouldn't do it again ( unless its necessary ) :))

to this day, youve still kept your promises ♡

jason is SUCH a sucker for when you touch his hair

the most relaxing thing everrrrr

i will die on this hill ppl dont play w me

his hair would be soft asf bro

best believe he uses a good conditioner !!

he lets u play w his hair nd do wtv u want with it cause like ~relaxing~

so best believe you have a 0.5 of him with all his hair tied up and looking like a palm tree

0.5s of jason would literally be flawless asf but scary

cause ur like omg by bf is so cute- god DAMN somebody get this man contacts

he looks amazing but THEM EYES

terrifying. staring into ur soul.

theyre cute tho ♡♡

you OBVI have matching pjs

i cannot decide if jason would go to sleep w just pj pants nd no shirt or if would have light blue and white striped pants, a button up shirt, slippers, a cap with a little fuzzy ball at the end, nd a candlestick

jason grace is a SPECTRUM OKAY

but he buys u so many plushies ugh

you own so many jellycats im so jealous

he helps u name them nd their literally ur children like

u have matching build-a-bears !!!

the voice memos are messages u made for each other :(

his to u is a quick ramble about how much he loves u but gets cut off cause he only had 20 seconds ♡♡

nd u get matching outfits for them!!

urs is named 'sleepy' and his is named 'sparky' ♡

i feel like jason gets some real bad nightmares

like yea every demigod does but he gets his more frequently nd their more graphic bcs of what he's seen and gone through :(

most of the time they arent even messages from his dad, theyre just really bad flashbacks of horrible times in his life

but ever since you started spending ur nights together, theyve toned down so much

now he even gets dreams abt your future together sometimes :((

he really wants to tell you about those dreams cause they feel so real but hes scared that youll think its weird or get uncomfortable

little does he know you get those exact same dreams ♡

and on the same nights as he does...

CAUSE UR MEETING IN UR DREAMSSSSSSS

nd thats how ur dad shows his love to you !

zeus doesnt gaf. wtv we dont like him anyway

i mean sometimes hes like erm gtfo my cabin 🤨

but doesn't actually do anything

u literally dont care for anybody's thoughts tho cause you bagged a baddie as sleepy as you ♡

an two: ik i didnt talk abt sleepovers together but like ive got a jason fic called sleepover (thats also gn!) if u wanted to read that :DD but i hoped u enjoyed and have a good day/night!! GO STREAM THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT.

peace from manhattan,

percy jackson ♡

[serqphites]

Thinking of g!p lee harker with a mommy kink….

oh my fucking god you might be onto something…

i’d also like to make it known that i have never written for men/dicks(?) before because i’m a big old lesbian so im sorry if it’s not accurate!

warnings! g!p, not pulling out, breeding? mommy issues, crying during sex

—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—

heavy thoughts of lee waking up with morning wood…

the two of you spooning, her dick poking into your back as she squirms uncontrollably, desperate to not wake you.

well jokes on her because you were already awake!

deciding to mess with her, you back your ass up against her growing bulge. god the noises she makes.

“really lee? this early?” your tone is mocking as you chuckle at her, feeling your girlfriend jump slightly upon unexpectedly hearing your voice.

less than a minute later you’re grinding your ass against her hard cock through her boxers, precum seeping through and leaking onto your pj bottoms.

lee is embarrassed to tell you she has a mommy kink (i mean girly we know what ur moms like it’s kinda obvious)

“do you think we could try something tonight?” someone tell me why is bro looking at you like a stray kitten begging for food??

“of course baby, what’d you have in mind?” needless to say you aren’t shocked when she reveals she’d like to try out calling you mommy. you’d definitely noticed before that she seemed to enjoy being taken care of. like yeah sure who wouldn’t? but with lee you could just feel how different it was. it felt more like something she craved rather than something she simply enjoyed.

some examples include; why did she blush so fiercely when you brushed her hair? why did she get so shy if you showed you were proud of her? why did she always get a hard on if you cared a little too deeply for her…? (not that that’s physically possible bc hello?? save me awkward lesbian)

cut to that same night, lees hands gripping the backs of your thighs as you straddle her lap. you could feel her growing beneath you, your hips naturally beginning to roll against it, her bulge hitting your clit almost perfectly.

you now find yourself sat on lees hard cock, her girth filling you in a way only she could. you wanted her so bad, needed her so bad. yet you didn’t move.

“baby… please?” she sounds so fucking pathetic underneath you, her hips bucking as she grows needier and needier for your pleasure.

“baby? i thought you wanted to call me something else tonight” lee whimpers at your voice alone.

“please… mommy please- need you s’bad” yeah you’re bouncing on it.

she’s a fucking mess, her eyes sealed shut as she assists your bounces down onto her throbbing dick.

“you’re doing so good lee, so good for mommy” despite your head being rolled back with your own eyes also squeezed shut, you still don’t miss the way your girlfriends thrusts speed up and the whimpers slowly turn into quiet cries.

you panic momentarily, stopping and moving to face her once more. before you even get a chance to ask if she was okay lee has started bouncing you in and out of herself once more, her nails digging into your hips as she more than just guides your bounces this time.

“good tears… please don’t stop… fuck- fuck mommy please don’t stop… m’so close” all you needed to hear was good tears before you continued your previous movements, this time rolling your hips on every bounce to help push lee over the edge.

her cries turn into pants, her pants eventually coming to a halt before a long exaggerated moan escapes from her lips, her warm seed filling up your cunt just perfectly. that ends up doing it for you also, lee biting her lip so hard she draws blood as she jolts underneath you, only enduring the overstimulating sensations to allow you to ride out your high.

once you’re both settled into bed and ready for sleep, you turn to face your extremely smiley girlfriend.

“take it you enjoyed it?”

“not at all” with a sarcastic roll of her eyes, she leans over to press one last kiss to your soft lips before you two say your goodnights, both falling asleep fantasising about your earlier activities.

[goldfades]

🍯 angry jack hughes (like after a rough game)

𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 (𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬) | jh⁸⁶

♡ ─ word count | 840

♡ ─ warnings | NSFW under the cut, read at your own discretion! rough jack, praise with a sprinkle of degradation, backshots and ummm nothing else i believe?

♡ ─ ev's notes | okay this was SOO hot but idk if i did this justice bc i wasn't in the mood to write rough smut BUT LMK YOUR THOUGHTS! also looking for a beta reader for my writing, pls lmk if ur interested!

Jack was pissed, and that was an understatement. The tension had started from the beginning, up until the final buzzer rang throughout the arena, Jack was angry. The referee was obviously trash and the players were assholes, they were aggressive and unrelenting, pushing the boundaries of a "fair game" to the breaking point. The hits were quick and hard, each one more bone-crushing than the other.

Jack felt the impact of every hit throughout his body, he knew that every hit was going to bruise. But it wasn't just the physicality of the game that got under his skin; it was the blatant disregard for the rules, the dirty plays and the cheap shots. The referee, if you could call him that, was blind to the chaos on the ice, turning a blind eye to blatant penalties and letting the game spiral out of control. Obvious slashes, cross-checks, and trips went uncalled, leaving Jack and his team alone.

But all of that didn't even matter now as he was balls-deep in you, letting out all his frustrations out on you. His hand gripped your throat as he pounded you into the mattress, the headboard slamming the wall with each relentless thrust. His head fell back as you clenched around him, his blue eyes blown out completely. Your legs hung off his shoulders as he fucked you harshly, not letting you move.

Every thrust was met with a loud moan drawing from your bruised lips, making Jack feel somehow even harder. "Fuck, baby. You feel so fucking good."

You couldn't even respond in any way, shape or form at this point, you were way too fucked out. Your whole body was hot to the touch, sweat dripping from your hairline and your cheeks a warm color. As soon as Jack walked into your home, he grabbed you and went straight to your bedroom - and you weren't complaining. Jack wasn't usually the rough type but when he was, it was absolutely mind-blowing.

Your mouth hung open as he fucked you dumb, you couldn't even think straight. Your head was spinning with desire and all you could think about was how you wanted this to last forever. Jack began to slow down and you let out a whine. "Turn around."

Jack's voice was hoarse as he spoke and even though you felt like if you were to get up, you'd fall, you still obliged. You turned around and put your face on the warm pillow, arching your back up. Jack held you by the hips and quickly slipped back in, causing another loud moan to escape your chapped lips. You were so sensitive and sore but you knew Jack wasn't in the mood to hear it so you just took his cock, like you were meant to.

"Fuck," Jack groaned as he bottomed you out. His hand found your hair and immediately pulled up, giving you a sloppy kiss before he began thrusting in and out of you. You whined into the kiss as he let go of your hair, focusing on absolutely wrecking you.

His pace was just as rough as before, except now you really had no choice but to let him. Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as he pounded into you, trying to ground yourself somehow. "Such a slut for me, hm?"

You nodded mindlessly at his degrading words as he kept his thrusts harsh and deep. His hand found your head once again, pushing it into the pillow as he began to pound into you harder and quicker, his hips snapping against your ass. The quicker his thrusts were, the more overwhelmed you felt; you felt like you couldn't even control your own body but again, you weren't complaining.

"Jack, please." You whined out for nothing in particular as he kept fucking you into the mattress.

"Fuck, it's okay." Jack rasped out. "I got you, baby."

His sweet words in contrast with how rough he was fucking you, you felt like your legs were gonna give out any second. Jack felt himself draw closer and closer to an orgasm and he wasn't gonna stop now. His thrusts were becoming sloppy but rough as your cunt clenched around him, he couldn't help but groan. "So close."

You began to feel light-headed as he kept his pace rough, you knew that you were going to cum any second now. Jack pushed your head into the pillow as you cried out, becoming more desperate for some kind of release. "Cum for me, baby."

That was all you needed, you came around his cock as you sobbed out, your tears of pleasure drenching the pillow beneath you. Your pussy was sensitive as Jack kept pounding into you, chasing his own orgasm. "S-slow down,"

Jack ignored your pleads as he kept fucking into your cunt, your felt your body become limp in his hands. With every snap of his hips, you let out a whimper. A few more deep thrusts and Jack was cumming inside of you, slowly riding out his high.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[rocknrolldecadence]

something angsty into fluff or angsty smut with slash please, ur writing is so amazingggg

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮-------------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

whisky and girls

you catch slash cheating, and he tries to make it up to you

warnings: angst, smut

a/n: i hope you like this!!! first time not writing for izzy 😛😛 thank you btw!! and hope the smuts ok, this is my first time writing fully fleshed out smut so i hope it isn’t awkward or anything 😣 ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME 😇😇😇😇

“okay baby. i’ll see you later on. love you.” you said, hanging up the phone. your boyfriend slash had called you, letting you know that he wouldn’t be home til later since he was working on music with his bandmates. typically when he said that, he wasn’t back til at least one in the morning. with that in mind, you decided you go out to a bar with your friends.

it was already quite late; half nine on a saturday night. you started getting ready, excited to meet up with your friends. you did your makeup and then your hair. picking out an outfit was hard, but you eventually settled on something you hadn’t worn in a while. you slipped into your heels and made sure you looked good in the mirror before you headed out the door. it was pitch black by now, but the bar you and your friends had agreed to meet at wasn’t too far from you and slash’s shared apartment, so you were okay walking.

the cold air hit you, but you carried on. los angeles was lit up by the many street lights and neon signs. it was beautiful. you got to the bar pretty quickly. you went inside and ordered yourself your favourite drink, looking around for your friends. you couldn’t see them. they probably just weren’t here yet, which was understandable since you lived the closest. but something else caught your eye.

tucked away in a dark corner of the bar was all five members of guns n roses. steven, izzy, axl, duff and your boyfriend, slash. your boyfriend slash, who had a girl on his arm. your heart *sank.* what the fuck? he had said he was writing music with the boys.

the shock made you drop your drink, and it fell to the floor with a loud crash, glass shattering. the noise made everyone’s head turn, and slash locked eyes with you. you stood staring at him for a few seconds before bolting out the door. you began to walk home, tears flooding your eyes. as you were about halfway there, you heard your name be called.

there was slash, although he was a good bit down the pathway, shouting your name. he was drunk, and you could tell it from the way his speech was slurred. you turned back around, quickening your pace as best you could in your heels. he continued to call after you as you made your way back to the apartment.

you burst in through the door and went straight to the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of the strongest whisky you owned. slash came in shortly afterwards, stumbling into the kitchen.

“baby, i-” he started, before you cut him off.

“i don’t wanna fucking hear it. get the fuck out of here.” you spat.

slash stumbled towards you, clearly plastered. you downed the last of the your whisky and went to get yourself some more. but not before slash wrapped his arms around your waist, a drunken effort to redeem himself. he babbled into your back about how he was “so sorry” and that he’ll “never do something like that again”. of course, you weren’t having it. you pulled yourself away from him and poured another glass for yourself. it was lukewarm and neat, but you didn’t care. the anger you felt neutralised the bitter taste of the alcohol. fuck your low tolerance.

“baby… i’m so- i’m so sorry… lemme make it up to you.” your boyfriend said through hiccups.

“and how will you do that?” you snapped.

“lemme… make you feel good. please…” slash said, stumbling over his words. he was so drunk. but you were too, with the effects of the whisky starting to run its course.

you sighed, and slash took this as a yes. he walked over to you, hands roaming up and down your body as he started to kiss you. hard. you kissed him back, albeit with reluctance, but the whisky made you do what sober you would never. the kiss got more and more intense, til eventually you were making out.

things escalated, and soon enough you were laying on your bed with slash in between your thighs. he always ate you out roughly, but it was different this time. he was faster. he went harder. it felt good, but you knew he was trying to prove something. you cried out his name as your orgasm came crashing down on you, gripping your fingers in his curly hair.

“oh my god…” you moaned, panting for air. you felt guilty towards yourself for enjoying this as much as you did. even though slash was doing this as an apology, you felt like you were disrespecting yourself.

“i’m not… i’m not done yet.” he said, making eye contact with you as he lifted his head. you saw the shine of your cum around his mouth, caught by the minimal light of the moon. he tried to wipe it off with the back of his hand, but in his drunken state he could only smear it around even more. god, that was hot. you hated to think it, but it was.

slash’s shirt had already been tossed to a corner of the room, along with your clothes and underwear. he began to unbuckle his belt, and you closed your eyes in anticipation of what was gonna happen next. with no warning, he shoved his dick inside you. you moaned in a mix of pleasure and pain. no matter how many times he fucked you, you could never get used to his size.

his thrusts were haphazard and lacked power compared to how he ate you out, but you let him continue. it was evident he hasn’t sobered up yet. you had started to.

slash saw the dissatisfied look on your face and sped up. hard. in a matter of seconds, he went from a slow, boring pace to fucking your brains out. he was tired no doubt, but the way he drilled into you, you’d think it was his last day alive. moans and groans filled the room as he thrust into you over and over, not stopping at all.

“god- fuck! slash!” was all you could get out. you hated that you loved this. the incident at the bar was still in the back of your mind, and it was clear that your boyfriend was trying to fuck the thought out of you.

quickly enough, you both came. slash fell down beside you on the bed, eyes half-lidded. you looked over at him. regret hit you like a truck. sure, it had felt so good when it was happening, but now that it was done, you wished you hadn’t. should you break up with him? for your dignity’s sake?

“did it… feel good?” slash asked, already half asleep. you looked up at the ceiling. “yeah. sure.” was all you could say in reply.

slowly you got up off the bed and went into the bathroom. cleaning yourself off, you thought about everything. the bar. the sex. was it worth it even being with him anymore? he wasn’t around most of the time. he was either oracticing, getting high or writing. ‘writing’. you thought about how many times he came home too late. how many times you swore you could smell cheap perfume off of him.

the dots connected in your mind and you started to cry. a small part of you hoped that slash would hear you, come in and comfort you. but he didn’t. you stayed alone in the bathroom, sobbing til you couldn’t anymore. finally, when you were ready, you went back into the bedroom. you were expecting slash to be angry. to get pissed at you for crying. but when you went in, all you found was him sleeping. he hasn’t even bothered to actually get in the bed. he was just laying on top of the sheets, the exact same way you had left him.

that was it for you. the way he slept, so careless. he couldn’t give a fuck about you, really. you scoffed.

guided by the dim light of the moon, you shoved all of slash’s belongings in a bag. you walked out of the bedroom quietly, grabbing a spare blanket as you made your way to the front door. you left his bag there and got set up to sleep on the sofa. you’d deal with this in the morning. you’d kick him out and tell him it was over. for your own sake.

[pinkaditty]

Towa Otonashi x Reader

it's. self-indulgent. i don't have much of an excuse...

a/n: so how'd i come up with this one? well. i was talking 2 my friend about cockwarming and id been seeing a lot of towa content lately, so it just suddenly appeared in my mind... why not stick the two together? i literally wrote this in one sitting 2day and i can honest 2 god say: i'm proud of it. i hope y'all enjoy it.

quick disclaimer that i write these under the assumption the tokyo debunker boys are at least 18 years old. they appear to be present at a university considering there are professors and a chancellor. not to mention the boys drink, smoke, gamble, and refer to themselves as adults.

summary: ur cockwarming towa essentially.

cw: cockwarming!!!!!!!!! slight dom!reader ish, sub!char, it's really just a little fun idea i had. MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!!!!!!! oh yea not proofread lmao

whippee porn under the cut!!!!!!!!

Cockwarming with Towa is simultaneously frustrating and euphoric. 

When you first slide yourself onto him, shifting your uniform to make room, he sighs blissfully, a deep groan sprouting from his throat. The first thing he does is throw his arms around your midsection and bury his face in your chest, muffling his groans into your shirt as you finally take him all in. He rubs his cheek back and forth against your chest, humming contentedly. You lift your hands and run your fingers through his hair, gently scratching your nails against his scalp, to which he shivers and holds you closer, his length twitching within you. 

He may be rock hard, but he’s also a sucker for romance. Once he’s had enough of snuggling your chest, he’ll crane his neck upwards towards you to gently press a kiss on your lips, but only if you don’t playfully tease him and move away. Of course, with his arms around your midsection, you don’t get very far, so he will kiss you eventually. His hands will move from your midsection to your upper back, urgently pressing you closer to him. His kisses are gentle and unhurried, but open-mouthed, a clear sign of his excitement. Your cheeks, your nose, your ears, lips, your chin, your neck, your shoulder, and your chest are all littered with as many kisses as he can muster. His tongue gently swipes across your neck and chest and shoulder and ears, leaving you shivering at the feeling of cool air replacing the warmth of his lips. To tease him, you would shift your hips a little, pretending to accidentally lift them just a bit before settling back into place. This alone would send a sense of urgency through him. 

By this point, Towa’s face is a blotchy red, his lips are glistening wet with his own saliva and stuck in a mischievous pout, and his eyes have a sudden spark of hunger to them. He will tighten his grip around your midsection, urgently pressing his hips upwards into yours. There’s only so much more to push inside, but still, you can feel him swell, his tip pressing into the deepest parts of you. Only one loud moan escapes him before he curls his face into your chest again, muffling his noise. He’ll move his hands to your hips, pushing you down onto him with a bruising grip. He continues to curl his hips upwards, not thrusting, but holding that position. You’ll feel his length continue to twitch urgently, his hands switching between squeezing your hips and wrapping themselves around you, wanting to bring you closer. He’ll groan, partly out of pleasure and partly out of indignance, as though frustrated he can’t go any deeper. 

And finally, he’ll look up at you. He’s panting, and you can feel his breath puffing against your chest. His eyes are watery, like he’s close to tears. You will gently coo at him and stroke your nails against his scalp again as you card your fingers through his hair. He simply melts into you, a look of bliss crossing his face. You pull him away from you, gently, and he stares. His mouth is open in heavy pants, saliva dripping past his lips and onto his chin, his cheeks a deep cherry red, his eyes shining with pitiful tears. He’s asking, pleading, begging you, with that pouty look in his eyes. The longer you stare at him, the more you’ll watch him break down, his face crumpling into a desperate expression and his whines getting a little louder. It isn’t long til you feel something warm and liquidy spill within you. You’ll be able to tell it’s only precum, but it’ll amuse you nonetheless. 

He looks at you expectantly, hoping you’ll fall for his pathetic pleading. So? Will you let him thrust or not?

a/n: going feral tbh this was... probably my best one yet. im in love with this one. i hop e you all enjoy!!!!!!

usual note ofc that i love likes, comments, and reblogs!!!!!!! please do tell me how much you like my writing!!!! it fills me with immense glee i swear i treasure every silly tagged rb i get

[pinkpigtailsprincess]

HI ANY TIPS ON BEING THE NEW KID AT A NEW SCHOOL

GENERALLY GETTING ANXIETY ATTACKS LOL

ALSO I LOVE YR BLOG SMM

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖ Doll tips! ; Being the New Kid!! 🎀⭐️

Tip #1 ; Taking a Breath now speaking from experience being the new kid at school is very nerve racking ik ive done it so many times and just sitting back and just breathing snd relaxing can definitely help just calm you down!!

Tip #2 ; Making a Good Impression!! now for this one i not saying you have to be the most outgoing person ever bc it can be overwhelming especially if you have social anxiety or you just have trouble with interacting!! but definitely being as polite as possible can definitely help you in the long run!!! ⭐️

Tip #3 ; Don’t be afraid to introduce yourself

now since you are new to the school you may or may not have to introduce yourself and ik how nerve racking this can be but doing a simple “Hi! I’m _” is really good if you don’t wish to speak then a simple smile and wave is also just as good!!!

Tip #4 ; Recruiting Friends!!

if you wanna be friends with a particular person try going up to them and saying hi to them also helping people with something is a way to get to know a person or having desk/table mates is like a gold mine for making friends with people !!!

Tip #5 ; Not Everyone is a nice person

if you can tell someone is a mean person stay away from them have little to no contact with this person its will save you all the energy and time because people like this can be extremely draining trust ik that!

Tip #6 ; Be nice but don’t be a pushover

obviously being nice is ESSENTIAL but never let someone cross your boundaries or disrespect you call them out on it don’t make a huge scene obviously but definitely let them know that you’re setting a boundary and if they cross again then cut this person off because obviously they don’t respect your boundaries!!

Tip #7 ; Don’t be a Bystander!!

if you see someone getting bullied say something about it,defend them or just ask them if they’re okay being a bystander to the problem makes you part of the problem as well!!!

Tip #8 ; Don’t let others bring you down

again with making boundaries never let someone cross you or make snarky remarks call them out on it and remember this person words obviously don’t matter what other people say doesn’t define you

Tip #9 ; Join a Club!!

joining a club can be an amazing way to make friends while also doing something you enjoy and over all its just an amazing activity!!

Tip #10 ; Don’t overshare!!!

unless you genuinely trust a person don’t overshare because people switch up and anything you say can and will be used against you!

Tip #11 ; Have Main Character mindset

even if you have zero confidence fake it till you make it!! walk with good posture and some pep in ur step!!🎀

Tip #12 ; If u have a group assignment don’t do all the work

omg i can’t stress this enough only do your part if someone is failing to do their part don’t do it for them let them fail thats their own fault

Tip #13 ; Being popular isn’t everything!

social hierarchy in high school or middle school (idk what grade ur in im sorry!!) is so bleak okay being popular isn’t everything i mean sure by some chance you’ll be popular but still you don’t HAVE to fit in because ur made to stand out

Tip #14 ; Channel ur inner Elle Woods & Cher Horowitz

* apply ur self in ur academics

* if you need help ask its not a bad thing to need help!!

* Make an Organizer to stay in top of ur work!!

* STUDY!! STUDY!! STUDY!!

* if you have an assignment with a rubric read it carefully to ensure you can get the highest grade possible!!

* if you unhappy with your grade or feel like you should’ve gotten a better one ask your teacher to review!!!

* wear cute clothes and style ur hair neatly not to for the lookism esque obviously but looking ur best and feeling your best are definitely good ways to feel better!!! 🎀⭐️

* have a “what? like its hard?” mindset

* Don’t Judge!!

* Pursue ur dreams!!

* Don’t be afraid of a challenge

* Be yourself!!

Tip #15 ; Don’t Leave people out!!!

say ur in a group setting and you see one particular person being left out and not getting their chance to speak make them feel welcome ask them about what they were gonna say and include them into the conversation!!!

Tip #16 ; Eat what makes you happy and don’t yuck someones yum

if someone has a cultural dish for their lunch DON’T EVER make them feel bad about it don’t care what it is that loser behavior! also eat the kind of food that makes you feel good inside and that nourishes your body i definitely suggest packing a lunch the night before!!!

Tip #17 ; Don’t hang around Slackers!!

be friends with people that actually apply themselves in their academic and working for what they want!!!

I love you anon i hope you do AMAZING at ur new school!!! 🎀⭐️

[radioroxx]

*slides you $500 in monopoly money* spare deets about the isafrin kids? i love them soooooooo much and would love love love to know even more!!!

like!! how did they get wished into existence? were they just There one day as small kids, or did they come as babies? did aurore come first and then eile? and isafrin!!! they look different!!?!!?! love love love love postcanon designs and would love to hear your thoughts on them (and! their bonding earrings??)

I WROTE THIS OUT AND REALIZED HOW STUPID LONG IT IS SO. ITS GOING UNDER A CUT. WOWZERS

Ok first- WISH BABIES!!!

uh. uhm. uh

ahah. oops!!

though we did get to discussing a few options after getting this ask (more like. i. asked them. and they provided. im not the thinker in this group. hehe!)

(@chromatasia )

for context on this one- i believe a while ago we also talked about wishing involving sacrificing? the idea of givinf up a piece of yourself (sometimes physically, like hair) to help power a wish! or link yourself to it?

a second option (three whole screenshots…)

(@unregisteredskybox )

carve your own baby!! yay!

general idea for our fankids though is that yes, they were created super young. and as babies. so aurore wouldve been crafted a few years before eilé :)

so yea ur two options <3 pick i guess lol. i dont have a solid idea there.

the second half of your questions- yes!! isafrin! theyre older and different!! wahoo!

the older isafrin designs were moreso. i wanted to have a little fun and made them. lawl. but now i get an excuse to share anyway :) so here!!

numbered the details to make it a lil easier. also dont mind these r quick scribbles,,

1- general outfits and stuff. siffrins i wanted to keep mostly similar to how i usually draw them. sleeveless top, horrible and unnecessary amount of belts,, knowing that hes maybe not as eager to change as some others might be. they are comfortable in their style and thats what matters. for isabeau i wanted to keep a familiar vibe, but still change it up. i think he would still wear clothes that are flowy-er etc etc, buuut yeayeayea. not an outfits guy really so jfkf theyre pretty simple.

2- themb!! they look different! siffrins hair is longer obv obv, and no lightless dye anymore. they tie it back usually, but he still likes it long. also some facial hair. important to me. (you may also notice lack of eyepatch,, personal hc that siffrin gets more comfortable without it after making up with bonnie some more. that he maybe depending on it a lot because he thought it would make them uncomfortable, which theyyy dont have to worry about. anymore! so less eyepatch. sometimes still though). isa on the other hand looks mooostly the same! except. ofc. bigger beard. you guys should know i love my beards by now. lawl. other than that mostly the same,, physical pain in me trying to think of a different hairstyle for him… maybe in the future but for now he gets This.

3- new cloak-thing for sif! his regular cloak is probably much more well suited for the travelling lifestyle, much less the domestic stay-at-home lifestyle, soo they changed it up! (and totally not an excuse for isabeau to try out craft stitching nooo definitely not as practice for the future whaat who said that.) they will still wear the old cloak occasionally, buuut not as often as they used to.

4- finally! bonding earrings!!! yes! the designs themselves are pretty simple. squares and change symbols for the design sif made for isa, and a star with bits that go ding-ding that isa made for sif. more importantly, siffrin carved the earrings himself! it is. hard. to do that. a design that is so small. there were many failed attempts and scraped ideas but they got it done! and isa loves them very much. for isas design, the main star part is glass, and the dangling bits are carved gems (picture isabeau, panicking because this is siffrin hes making these for so it needs to be perfect. and he gets odile to help him, because despite all the teasing she is ofc very fond, and helps him out with that aspect of the design.)

ok thats all - bye bye bye

[leejeongz]

🫧 small things evnne would do as your boyfriend 🫧

pairing: boyf!evnne x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of food

a/n: just a reminder that i don’t write for 06 and younger (jihoo), see rules

⋆ hanbin

⋆ he’s the BIGGEST flirt and loves to see you panicking and blushing

⋆ but he just laughs in your face instead of calling you cute he just cannot help himself 💀

⋆ the most supportive bf, he will be your personal cheerleader no matter what the event and he will never get tired of it

⋆ PDA and lots of it, but if you initiate it he’s gonna tease you for it (he loves it tho fr)

⋆ “it reminded me of you and i missed you so much so i had to buy it” gift giver vs “hanbin, you were gone for an hour” gift receiver

⋆ tries to teach you to dance sometimes and is very honest about it… but sings your praises to everyone else even if ur trash

⋆ bro literally gets cute aggression whenever your around, he just gets the urge to eat u in a cute loving way lmfao

⋆ this man always knows what to say to you like he just says the right thing at the right time and you immediately feel comforted

other members under the cut

⋆ keita

⋆ he’s obsessed with you i mean OBSESSED everything about you is just so fascinating to him

⋆ star gazing + cloud spotting <333

⋆ gets extremely sulky when you watch an ep of a show without him and makes you rewatch it by his side

⋆ when you’re feeling down, he orders your favourite pizza and cuddles you on the sofa until you’re ready to talk

⋆ let’s you be in his studio while he’s recording or composing because he wants to show off

⋆ and also because he thinks it’s cool when you show off your musical talents in there too

⋆ gets lost in your eyes when you talk and half stops listening for a brief moment until you pull him up on it

⋆ gentle pecks on your shoulder when he can tell you’re getting nervous/anxious

⋆ you and his family become SOOO close, he takes you to visit all the time, you’re so precious to all of them

⋆ jeonghyeon

⋆ subtle matching couple items that he’s just waiting for someone to ask him about so he can tell them about you

⋆ the way he looks at you gives you butterflies, of course it does, but the way he looks at you when you’re not looking gives other people butterflies he literally adores you and everything that you do everyone is envious

⋆ speaking of, he gets jealous when you give absolutely anyone else more attention than you’re giving him in that moment

⋆ i’m talking full pout and a passive aggressive comment under his breath which he most certainly takes back when you hear him

⋆ even tho he’s ur boyfriend he still tries too hard to impress you sometimes 😭 styling his hair with wayyy too much gel for example

⋆ nags. but in a teasing “you should’ve brought your own” kinda way

⋆ needs you to kiss his nose 24/7 but will he ever admit it? no absolutely not.

⋆ seungeon

⋆ he thinks you’re the funniest person ever istg

⋆ like he’s laughing all the time when he’s with you

⋆ a hugeeee prankster (but he knows ur limits) you’ll hear him giggling at your reaction and you’ll definitely want pay back lmaoo

⋆ when you get sick, he makes you soup (pours it out of a can and heats it up in the microwave ) and waits by the side of your bed for a compliment

⋆ he is 100% the type to kiss you once on the cheek or the lips and then not be able to stop kissing you

⋆ is gonna be singing to you half the day and it’s always gonna sound so damn good you’ll run out of ways to tell him how amazing he is

⋆ the other half of the day he’s complaining that his throat hurts and he needs you to make him some tea (because no one makes it like you do and he’s grown far too attached to you and your tea lol)

⋆ squishes your cheeks when you’re least expecting it

⋆ yunseo

⋆ this man 😭

⋆ loves his physical affection, having his arms around you when you’re doing absolutely anything, holding your hand, his hand on your thigh/knee when you’re sitting together 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

⋆ he finds comfort in being close to you and being able to hold your hand

⋆ gets sO shy when you compliment him, he’s gonna be blushing and questioning you the whole time with a cute little smile he cannot BELIEVE

⋆ buys your fav ice cream when he gets in from practice late hoping that you’re still awake so you can watch some disney+ together while eating the ice cream

⋆ he takes serious relationship talks very seriously and always wants to be a better boyfriend to you so he listens and apologises very sincerely (he can definitely hold his own tho don’t get me wrong)

⋆ glances at your lips when you talk, thinks he’s being subtle and discreet but he’s defo not

⋆ buys you a teddy bear for your birthday every year without fail to cuddle in bed when he's not there (but tells you it doesn’t beat the real thing (it doesn’t))

⋆ junghyun

⋆ pet. names. all of them. any that you can think of and more. without shame !!

⋆ (okay maybe he’s a bit shy at first but it doesn’t take him long before he’s firing them out left right and centre)

⋆ goes absolutely crazy for a forehead kiss and will give you puppy eyes if you don’t deliver

⋆ his hoodies = your hoodies

⋆ in fact, he gets a bit offended if you say that you don’t wanna wear them

⋆ rests his head on your shoulder and pretends to sleep

⋆ but he’s actually just laughing to himself about how fast your heart is beating cos of him

⋆ his first i love you being the most embarrassing thing ever for him that he’ll never live down (you MUST tease him for his shyness)

⋆ he’s gonna learn to bake for you and you’re gonna love the cookies he makes 🫵🏻

⋆ random trips to get fast food