#3 more hours phew

[etherealhoneypie]

is my body mine or yours?

[shadowed-yet-vibrant]

Adding the fact that I'm a lawyer to every possibly relevant tag ramble to somehow convince myself that maybe I am in fact a lawyer.

[screampied]

#THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY. g. suguru

☆ sum. the last thing you’d expect for a surprise birthday present by your friends was a visit to a men’s strip club. geto suguru—your dancer’s got it all. tall, handsome, and he wants waaay more than just thirty minutes with you.

wc. 6.9k (h.. haha)

warnings. fem! reader, stripper au, stripper! geto, unprotected, lap dancīng, dry humping, switch geto, lots of riding, 69, finishing too quick, choking, geto has nīpple piercings, hair pulling, spīt, dirty talk, he licks champagne off you, nīpple play, breedīng, praise, **** cameo :), petnames.

an. ty to the ppl who voted on my poll <3 kinda scared to post this LOL. this came on a whim ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

➤ kinktober mlist.

“i understand your body wants it. i know your thoughts, oh you ‘bout it ‘bout it . . ”

the erotic lyrics that blared through the club’s abject speakers nearly deafened your ears the moment you stepped inside. you were flashed with a plethora of luminescent jade lights as you read a glowing sign near the bar that read ‘welcome to the vixxxen lounge.’ your friends, who decided to surprise you for your birthday with nothing more than a girls’ trip to a men’s strip club told you they’d be getting drinks if you need them. of course . . that was probably code for: going to spend time near the private rooms.

apparently, it’s ‘happy hour’ which meant countless discounts—and you’d already had your two individual sessions paid for by one of your friends. crisp aerating air waves from the air conditioner chills against your skin as you lean against the bronzy brick pillar. you gather your surroundings, eyeing the oily attractive glossed men that entertained the screaming crowds of thirsty women. the wide stage was spacey, and it almost looked like a concert—you started to wonder just who you were paired up with. but right as you’re pondering deep in thought, there’s a light tap on your shoulder.

“miss.”

you turn around to face probably the most attractive man you’ve laid your eyes upon. he’s tall with lengthy long hair — tangled black tresses of strands that reach just about past his shoulders. you couldn’t help but openly gawk a bit . . finding your eyes to leisurely trail down toward his skimpy attire. near his neck, he had a stained smooch of a lip stick mark that was a dark shaded red. you then noticed a few hundred dollar bills stuck in between his red thin straps.

this guy, it appeared he was dressed as some kind of firefighter. he had on the helmet along with the matching baggy yellow pants, but was completely topless. the only thing that went against his chiseled pecs was the skinny straps that attached onto the belts of his pants.

“heyy,” he waves a hand in your face, arching a brow.

“o- oh, sorry,” you bashfully murmur, mentally cursing yourself out for wandering off into space again. embarrassing, embarrassing. fishing for your vip pass that gave you direct access to one of the secluded private rooms—you dig it out your pocket, staring down at the assigned dancer and room number. “are you uh . . geto?”

“i am. but ah, suguru’s fine,” he murmurs, and he takes your pass, putting the temperature lanyard over your neck. geto’s fingers brush against your skin and you nearly shudder.

his touch.. it felt like sparks of electricity, and near the far distance by the crowded stage, your friends waved at you. with a throaty, “follow me, birthday girl,” he swiftly turns his heels and starts making a beeline toward the back of the club. you follow him, continuing to eye his costume.

but phew, he had quite the ass.

but anyway—that’s not the point.

it never really occurred to you how all the male strippers had specific costumes—you were far too entranced by geto. it was probably because of how halloween was only a mere few weeks away, so it’d make sense how they’d be ordered to get into the spirit of things.

“and imma let you do it how you wanna girl i’ll riiiide with it, riiiide with it . . ”

the lyrics of that catchy same song that resounded through the speakers of the club grew louder—and as he guided you inside the dimly red lit room, he makes you lie back against a cushioned sofa. there’s a few piles of money scattered near the front, and you didn’t count but that amount could make anyone filthy rich.

geto rubs the back of his neck, rolling it around to stretch before he glances down at you. you struggle to look him in the eye and a faint smile creases across his lips.

you’re new, and he could tell you weren’t used to such carnal provocative environments.

“relaaax, pretty girl,” his voice was low purr. the way he talked was soothing, a good amount of teasing and playfulness. right at his words, your shoulders slumped and you lean back.

the air around you seems to close in, getting thicker ‘n thicker before he makes you haul your arms over the edges of the couch. “comfy?” and he doesn’t do anything else until you give him a subtle complying nod. geto takes off his amber-colored helmet before putting it on your head. “lean back. just focus on me.”

“o . . okay,” you exhale, and your eyes finally meet his.

the fake firefighter helmet crooks, tilting a bit to the side over the crown of your head as you watch him starting to sway to the bass dropping beats. you gulp as he gets closer . . and closer, following the exact steps to his usual routine before he gets on your lap.

he’s so pretty, and now that his helmet was off of him, you got an even more view of his face. geto starts to slowly grind against you, one hand resting near back of the couch that’s next to your shoulder. he’s fully in sync with the song that booming blares in the background.

the friction. he was moving up against you, and you couldn’t help but glance down his glossy chest. his legs were huge, and you didn’t even notice the clamped silver piercings that stuck against his reddened nipples. “is this okay?” he whispers, and you already feel yourself starting to heat up. the a/c was blasting—and yet, you felt like it was over a hundred degrees.

“ ‘s okay,” you breathlessly say, feeling your facial expressions serene. geto swiftly gets off you, and he starts to rock and grind his hips against the floor.

he’s slow and precise—each movement matches the following before he sits up, flicking against the straps of his costume. fuck, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. you knew he was probably used to this . . seeing so many women at a time, giving them a thirty minute private dance and going on with his day.

geto had charisma and lots lots of it.

it was ironic because he didn’t even have to say anything. throughout the duration of his entire routine, he let his hips do the rest of the talking. speaking of hips, you’ve never seen a more a slutty waist.

it’s unapologetically snatched, and you start to envision seeing his face plastered on every cover of a a men’s vogue magazine. he’s gorgeous—and the second he’s back in your lap again, he leans into the crook of your neck. “hey,” he repeats, and his voice was a lot more pitched and lower. it’s a dirty kind of husky that makes you clench your thighs together. as he’s up close—you get a whiff of his cologne. it’s quite loud, and you’d guess the scent was something between bergamot and rich aromatic oak moss. “do you wanna touch me?”

a breath gets trapped in the back of your clogged throat at the question.

geto continues to gradually grind his hips into you as pretty black strands of his hair tickles near your shoulders. “y- yes,” and the words smoothly flow from your lips like smooth molasses of chocolate.

geto was patient, and he wanted to make you comfortable—that was his number one priority.

he speaks in a more rough yet sly tone. “ ‘m gonna grab your wrists okay? just feel me,” and you feel mentally prepare yourself. biting down on your bottom lip—you mouth a soft, ‘okay,’ and geto gently grabs your wrists.

he’s still slowly jerking his hips against you, matching each sultry beat of the song. the base of the chorus rang through your ears and the lyrics flowed through once ear ‘n out the other.

as you stare up at him, he makes you press your hands firmly against his shaven flexing chest. sheets of slicking sweat that covers the top part of his body coats on your hands and you cutely furrow your brows. “heh, oh sorry love. ‘m a bit sweaty, hope that doesn’t turn you off.”

“it’s f . . fine,” you utter, and he resumes to guide your hands. his chest was as hard as a brick, and you felt how his muscles would freely tense.

god, geto was a literal sculpture. you probably looked stupid with how you kept openly staring at his perfectly carved abs. an entire six pack - each section even more strenuously ripped than the first.

as you continue to gawk, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets—you feel him shifting his weight a bit so he wouldn’t crush you. your thumb snags against his pierced nipple and he grunts, breaking character for a second. he lets off a cute snarl. “sorry! i didn’t-”

“sweetheart, it’s okay,” he hums, releasing a low puff of air. so he was sensitive there, noted.

as he continues, he makes your hands reach lower. the thin straps of his costume glide against your plump fingertips before he stops at his fading raven-colored happy trail.

black ‘n bushy . . you could make out every single tiny speck of hair that stuck against the lower part of his abdomen if you squinted, and you did.

the rest was hiding underneath the upper hem part of his prop turnout pants. “now ‘m gonna let go of my hands,” he whispers, eyeing you intently.

it was so much lustful ardor in the air. the more you stared at the dancer, the more you started questioning why the hell you never visited a strip club sooner. a question that was probably gonna remain unanswered..

“ . . ‘n ‘m gonna let you do whatever you want while i finish.” he concludes his sentence, and as if his hands were attached to your own with adhesive velcro, geto slowly pulls away.

now, it’s just your two balmy palms pressing against his chest. you take it upon yourself to drag an invisible line down his flat sleek cheek with your fingers.

your hands then find themselves reaching for a few papery fifty dollar bills, tossing it at his glossed grinding body. geto sighs with a cunning simper, continuing to rock his slim hips into your lap. “that’s it, feel me princess. ‘m all yours.”

and in a way – he was.

it was only you two in the room, and yet it felt like you ‘n suguru were the only people on earth. the entire mood was sensual and you could almost smell the libido that radiated off his skin. it was a scent you couldn’t describe—but you didn’t want him to stop.

as your hands kept roaming down his puffed out chest, you stop right at the hem of his pants. poking out, his sharp carved-like ‘v’ shaped pelvis arches within each muscle he moves forward.

the crimson red lights that flicker every three seconds narrowly spotlights toward geto’s fit body. for a quick moment—you get a good glimpse of his face and he’s inches away from your shimmery twitching lips.

geto leans up to your ear and he hoarsely whispers. “birthday girllll,” and he huffs out a drawn breath, feeling you eagerly tug at his pants. a snicker leaves from him before he gets a nice smell of your citrusy perfume. “ah. is the pants gettin’ on your nerves?”

“a bit,” you murmur honestly, and you were already undressing him with your eyes. you were sure geto was most likely wearing a thong underneath but you imagined otherwise.

filthy - you couldn’t believe the thoughts you were having.

to think, if you hadn’t accepted this little ‘girls’ trip’ with your friends, you’d probably be sleeping the entire day away. after all, they did want you to get out more. especially for your special day. with a pout twisting across each part of your lips, you sigh. “can i—”

“what, undress me?” he tries to play coy, seeing your pouty expression increase. geto hums, amused as you lightly hook a finger underneath his hooked strap before he shrugs. “go ‘head, princess. knock y’rself out.”

geto found your hesitance cute. you didn’t wanna seed ‘needy’ but you were showing all signs of it. at the moment, you completely forgot you were at a strip club and he was just a dancer.

but fuck it.

you went slow as he still straddles your lap, slowly pulling down his loosely fitted pants. they were baggy.. a flashy color of yellow, and the more you tugged them down, the more you got a glance at his scanty thong.

it’s dark purple with his name embedded on the thin white strips.

from all sides, it spelled ‘s u g u r u,’ in bold lilac plum colors. he even had custom made thongs? as if you couldn’t get even more aroused—

yeah, you were aroused. leave it to your legs that remained glued together starting to swelter up with … stickiness.

not everyday did you have a man grind against your lap, and to be fucking frank you didn’t think you’d last.

“you’re so pretty,” you pant, watching him shimmy his pants down to where it flops down to his ankles. and oh, he had quite the bulge.

it looked almost painful—so swole and round, you just wanted to kiss it. it looked like at any second it was about to just burst through the cottony stretched fabric. the scenery grows more hedonic as the red lights dimmer. you could barely see his face anymore, just a silhouette that grinds against your lap at each beat of the song playing loudly.

as you nearly slip out a moan, you lean back before your heaving breaths start to accelerate. “suguru.”

“aw,” he coos, feeling your arms wrap around his slender waist. geto’s still swiftly grinding into you, feeling your cute nails claw into his back. the back of your brain kept chanting ‘more, more, more!’

you still have the helmet on, and with the way it’s crooked and could barely fit your head—he found that small detail adorable. as he remained seated on your squished thighs, it was embarrassing to think you were starting to feel yourself erratically throb.

leaning into your neck, he could loudly smell your sheer arousal and it makes him lowly chuckle against the soft shell of your ear. “not satisfied, yeah?” and he lets off a quiet bellowing grunt, feeling your hands trail down his sweaty body once more.

he’s so built, parallel to a literal tank.

geto’s rocking against you in rhythm with the same song that still trumpets through the speakers before whispering. “just say it ‘n i’ll give it to you.”

“you always come to the parties. to pluck the feathers off allll the biiiirds. . ”

the lengthy song continued to drag on—and the busted speakers in the private room sounded like it was about to break from the distortion. it was loud, but your panting breaths was even louder the more geto dances on you.

letting off a longing three second moan once a leg of yours voluntarily hooks around his slim waist, you mewl out a sweet, “i want you. suguru, fuck me.”

“oh. sounds like a demand, sweetheart,” he purrs, and he stills his hips against your lap.

geto’s got a plethora of rings on each of his fingers. pretty silver ‘n gold bands that would wrap around his digits. he had long fingers, thin and perfectly slender.

the more you stared, the more you thought how good they’d fit insi—

“eyes up here,” he cuts you off, and you shudder feeling his palms cup your face. your leg still wraps around his waist before another shortly follows.

he’s barely rocking into you now, and with a bumpy shimmy, you feel his bulge rub against you. “mhm,” geto grunts before meeting your needy gaze once more. as a thumb strokes your bottom lip, pulling it down gingerly, he whispers. “ask nicely. say pretty please.”

“you won’t … charge me extra?” you sheepishly say, beads of perspiring sweat trickling down all sides of your forehead.

geto smugly smiles, grumbling a subtle, ‘nah,’ before making you lean all the way back against the padded sofa. “okay,” you breathe, and you just didnt care anymore.

you wanted him – maybe even needed him..

geto’s hardened bulge that presses against his thong throbs harder before you sweetly murmur,“please, fuck me, suguru.”

“anythin’ for the birthday girl.”

and those words were the same exact words that ran through your mind as you now found yourself in . . quite the risqué position.

you’d be the one straddling geto now. he’s got you in a classic 69, and your pretty perked ass hovers over his face. right in front of you was his weighty fat cock, and it’s a pretty flushed pink with rosy-lime veins prodding from the sides.

you’re whimpering out sweet harmonic keynotes as his long pointed tongue slithers its through your inviting entrance, two broad arms clinging onto your hips. “fuuckk,” he’d groan, feeling you smear a thumb over his leaky mushroomy tip.

you’ve already got him sopping wet from the chin down thanks to your wet cunt – glossy pearly drool seeping from the sides of his dick.

geto’s shaft remains idle, and you wrap a hand around his base before pumping it, rotating your wrist – once, twice, thrice..

he was aching, and the entire time he was giving you a show he had a boner. it was rare, usually whenever he gave lap dances—he was one to never really crack, he was a trained professional and yet here you were.

“mmch,” his swollen puckered lips smack against your cunt as he eats you out entirely from the back.

your mouth drops, jaw dangling— goofily hanging open like a cartoon as he resumes to extends the length of his tongue inside the outskirts of your warm room-temperate-tastin’-pussy.

lolling it out all the way, he licks from top to bottom—stopping at your clenching hole. geto gives it a five second kiss, a sloppy one that glues a mixture of his spit and your slimy juices on his mouth. “sweetheaaart,” he rasps, biting back a greedy groan once he feels you starting to take him in your mouth.

your throat’s seraphic warmth draws a hot sharp breath out of him as he swats a hard palm against your ass for you to start. “when i say move your ass against my face, i fuckin’ mean it. move,” and you let off a candied whimper the second the temporary sting sends singles toward your weeping whiny clit.

feebly, you start to flop your ass up and down against his face and you hear a satisfy ‘hmm’ purr from his lips. you’re moaning, sinking his cock down your throat in the process before your sticky tongue swirls around his angered crownhead. “mmph,” and you take a few inches before you feel his tip swipe against the scaled roof of your mouth.

going back up, it loudly ‘pops!’ out as a bit of sheeny saliva trickles down your chin. you’re taking him deep within no time, and you let off a cute hiccup once his swollen sack paps near your jaw.

so full ‘n round…

you’re breathing through your nose, still shaking your ass against his face, swipin’ his nose occasionally like a credit card with your honeyed-slathered cunt.

his wide flat tongue felt so good that you felt your toes curling each time he playfully nibbles on your sensitive throbbing clit. his tastebuds felt each pulse and it was so hot. “sugu, fuck.”

“i know, i know,” he gruffly whispers against your runny folds. bringing a pair of long twinned fingers towards your pussy, geto strums it down the pulsating slit in a straight pillaring line.

with a bit of pressure—he spreads your lower lips apart, getting a front row seat view of your clit pumpin’ pumpin’ away.

you had such a pretty throb, the prettiest he’s ever seen.

“god, you’re pretty but you’re even prettier down here too,” and not only do you hear him swallow but you feel it too.

a long full gulp, and he’s making sure to savor as much of your sweet slick on his tongue as possible.

geto’s just nasty, and a proud eater. he zigzags his tongue everywhere until your vision’s murky and clouded. you’re left crossed eyed with puffed up cheeks, barely able to focus on his dick that’s laying flat on your tongue.

a hand of his squeezes against your ass before with a mean ‘whack!’ he spanks it again just to see the bouncy recoil. the way a ‘lil fat portion of your ass would jiggle all due to the hasty-rash contact of his palm makes him throb.

and you feel it right in your mouth.

as your head bobbles at a more quick yet languid pace, your tongue skims down one of the many veins that paint down his cock. your repeated moans become muffled, and geto groans at how sloppy you sound—from the front and from behind.

the more he slurps every syrupy drop that dribbles out from your gurgling pussy, his precisely-thorough licks turn into exaggerated four second sucks.

geto softly caresses a hand against the bare skin of your exposed flesh, tugging on your pulled up skirt. pulled to the side were your panties that had a pretty pink star imprinted on the back decorated with glimmery rhinestones. you moan as your back slowly arches inward ‘n out and your knees become to buck.

his tongue, he definitely knew how to eat.

“ ‘s good, juuuus’ like that princess,” he huffs, feeling minuscule dewdrops of your saliva pour down the sides of his cock, slicking all over his base.

your thumb traces a heart over his hefty sack, massaging his tender full testes before you hear geto whine out a sweet, “o- oooh shit,” he was tender there too, huh..

and the sound catches him completely off guard because he grunts, the swaying of his tongue gradually slowing down. geto’s pretty lashes flutter before he grunts, taking a second to breathe. “don’t . . stop, play with ‘em some more,”

“pf—” you pop your mouth off his dick again, wet slimy sounds following as you stroke him off with an closed palm. “are you sure?”

“yeah yeah, ‘m sure,” and there’s a bit of sass in his gruff tone.

geto’s getting flustered, and never in a million years would he admit that you playing with his balls made him feel so good but fuck, it did.

geto paws a hand against your ass before letting off a hurried breathless, “fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

you went back to bobbling your head up ‘n down, pumping his fleshy pillar of length in your free hand before you start writhing your ass against his face even more quicker. geto moans, a surge of a trill nearly escaping out his gruff vocal chords before he grunts loudly. “mmp,” and your throat was so wet ‘n warm.

it enveloped him entirely, and as your cunt’s sitting over his slick lips—every so often rubbing against his nose and slick-streamed chin, he peppers it with a few kisses.

your hips were arched ‘n askew, and as your tongue occasionally darts down his sensitive slit you hear him grunt again. the burgundy colored sofa pathetically dips inward due to the stacked weight of both rutting bodies. geto’s eyes start to roll their way back as you continue, nearly sucking the soul out of him.

“fuck, baby. spit on it,” he groans, clasping his teeth at your needy clit.

he slides his tongue against your cute bulbous-shaped nub before sucking on it for the umpteenth time. you moan, still tossing your ass around for him in a slow meandering manner, feeling his tongue drag down the slope of your ass again.

geto’s pussy drunk entirely, and he didn’t care if this was against policy, having a customer touch him. when you tasted this divine, he couldn’t help devour your cunt like the starved, starved man he was..

at his words, you spat out translucent globs of saliva from your lips, pasting the slightly curved sides of his dick with your slick mess. “pff,” and you drench him from the base down, twisting his shaft with your wrist before hearing him groan.

geto’s about to finish and you could feel the vigorous pumps of his dick in your mouth growing weaker … and weaker – until, he cums.

geto’s jaw goes slack the moment his peak abnormally reaches, and growls out a husky ‘fuuuuuck,’ with the muscles in his neck tensing.

within a blink of an eye and a snap of a finger, the flat tip of your tongue’s now being sprayed with spritz of waxen cum. it’s a bittersweet taste that coats on your judgy tastebuds, and as you close your eyes with a humming moan departing from your lips, you hear him hiss. his body’s violently shaking, and his hips start to hungrily thrust into your mouth.

you wriggle your ass in face as he’s barely eating you out anymore, frantically heaving as he dumps his all down your pretty tight throat. “fuck, fuck, take it,” and his body still sporadically tremors.

as your mouth’s still full, geto gives your teary wet cunt it’s last few lapping licks before his head collapses back in lecherous defeat.

with cheeks still plumply puffed — his cock remains shoved inside. his aggravated red tip’s just swiping ‘n erupting near the roof of your mouth as you slurp him clean.

you swallow instantaneously, luxuriating in the mildly honey taste before feeling him shudder underneath you. “goddamn, so fuckin’ good. fuckin’ filthy, princess.”

with clammy palms, he turns you over and you lean in to kiss him. geto’s taken by surprise, and as you make him flop back against the velveteen cushion, you made your way on his lap. rough edges of teeth clash and roughly clatter against each other as each tongue plays a more salacious version twister.

geto reclines back, his hands moving toward your rocking waist as he grunts—tasting himself on your tongue. its bitter, but with the help of your lip gloss—it turns far more sweet within seconds. feverish breaths ghosts inside each mouth before you watch him reach near the side of him.

grabbing a half filled up bottle of mousseux, he flicks off the cork with a flick of his middle finger. geto’s eyes still closed as he’s delving his tongue right into your mouth.

the merciless smacking of lips grew louder before he pulls away, huffing breathlessly. “wan’ more of a taste real quick, princess,” and it sounds more like a needy plead. you see how flushed his face was, and geto’s eyes dart straight toward your bare chest. the top you wore was pulled down, clinging near the very bottom of your waist. “c’mere..”

and as you lean in, you watch as geto starts to pour down a small stream of champagne all down your chest. right between your tits, cupping underneath your tummy so none wouldn’t spill further down.

he makes sure a few glosses over your pretty round breasts before he grunts, closing the distance between your chest.

geto buries his face in between the valley of your tits, licking it right up. the bubbly fruity taste lingers on his tongue as he laps you up from top to bottom moaning at the spicy sweetness.

a mixture of your skin and champagne—better than any cocktail this club’s ever served.

“f- fuck,” he moans, lying his tongue flat. geto stares at you the entire time too, and his mouth gradually trails it way toward your damp neglected nipples. he cups his lips around the first nipple—slowly transitioning to the next before slurping the drink right off your body.

a tight breath gets caught in your throat as he continues to lick the rainy drops of sugary champagne off your body. geto groans, savoring the taste before with a loud ‘plop’, he pops your tender wet nipple out of his mouth.

there’s nothing but utter lust and infatuation in his eyes—and he then gets up to kiss you. the room’s nearly pitch dark without the help of the dim effulgent red lights that shined against you both. it added to the mood perfectly.

as tongues continue to try to assert dominance, you moan right in the dancer’s mouth, returning the gesture of swapping gauzy strings of gossamer spit.

abruptly though, you pull away, gently pushing geto back against the sofa.

with a raspy ‘ugh,’ geto lands on his back as you give him a light shove. he’s at your mercy, and you stand up from his lap, a wind of confidence coming out of nowhere and nearly pulling you forward.

he stares at you with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, watching you do a figure eight with your body.

“what’s . . this?” he huffs, burly arms stretching over each edge of the sofa. you looked so pretty, eyeing him up and down as he does the exact same to you.

the luminescent lights started to beam on you now, highlighting your curves and entire physique.

“lie back,” you murmur, slowly sashaying toward him. geto runs a hand through his hair, his dick twitching from the cool air wafting against it. you teasingly drag a finger down the scarred middle line of his bare-puffed chest, stopping at a hardened row of his brick-made abs. “i wanna try your little routine.”

“yeahh?” geto snickers, sucking in a sharp breath once you spin around, bending all the way over. the helmet that was still on your head—you put it back on him, watching him scoff at your audacity.

so you stole his profession now, great.

as you’re turned the other way, you slowly wriggle your ass in front of him, putting a hand over your sopping pussy and he kisses his teeth. “tch. don’t tease, sweetheart,” and geto’s allured stare fixates on you the entire time. his dilated irises frantically roamed around every and any part of your body like a laser. “fuck,” he grunts, watching you finally make your way on his lap.

geto’s all submissively underneath you—bare ‘n exposed with his poor tip flushed. its color was a sheeny carmine red that’s akin to a ripe cerise rose.

a few dried up splotches of cum stick near his weighty sides before he shudders. your ass sits on his flaccid dick before you start to move.

slowly,

you’re rutting into him—just like he was to you, grinding back and forth. geto looks so pretty though, underneath you. he’s still panting a bit, sweating bullets as you tease him with your crazed hips.

you weren’t at his level quite yet, but fuck could you move. geto groans, feeling your sloppy pussy rub off against his dick. you were so close to his tip that his foreskin would peel back a bit. “do you wanna touch me?”

touché..

geto narrows his eyes at you as you tease him, repeating his exact words from what he said to you earlier.

he doesn’t just touch you, he fucks you—

but in this case . . you fuck him.

geto holds back a moan as he’s watching his claret-colored cockhead disappear between your sappy folds. it’s like a magic trick, and with a ‘poof!’ half of length vanished within you.

you let off a soft shrilling whine, trying to writhe yourself around his length.

his dick was fat. ‘eyes-rolling-tongue-lolling-drag-your-nails-down-his back-’ type of fat.

and his girth only made things ten times more intense. you felt him rearranging your guts within each prolonged inch you took – literally.

you’re as slow as a snail with the way you try to take him wholly. even as you’re gingerly sinking your bare ass down with his cock snug ‘n deep inside you, he easily kisses against your g-spot.

it’s happening already, and you don’t even realize he’s fully in before a cooing whimper rawly snatches from the back of your dry esophagus. “oh fuck,” you huff, tossing your arms around the dark haired man.

geto’s got the same wide-eye-jaw-dropped reaction to you, and with one arm snaking around your waist—another’s tightly gripping onto your right ass cheek.

he spanks it, giving it a short squeeze afterward. your chest starts to heave in quickened intervals, and once he feels you starting to move it’s game fuckin’ over..

“god, pussy’s ‘ta die for,” he groans, eyes sexily rolling back until his sockets show nothing but white.

you had him whipped, and he can hear your cunt trying to have a word of its own, squelching out cute gargled squelches. you start to ride him at a mere hypnotic rhythm—and geto’s a lot more vocal now.

with his adam’s apple bobbing, both hands of his were now gripping onto your waist now. piles of money surround you too, a few sticking against his sweaty beefy thighs. “fuck me,” he grunts, and it’s more like he’s begging.

geto locks eyes with you, shaggy long bangs running past his eyes before he securely grabs your hips—trying to keep up pace with you. “mhm, thaaa’s it. ride it, ride . . the shit out of me, uuughhh.”

“ ‘m trying,” you moan, biting your lip each time his swollen cockhead plummets its way deep.

he’s just so big—you couldn’t wrap your head around how a guy could be so damn big.

the good kind of big, and each time he’d seep a single girthy inch into you, your stomach would churn like butter. he’s in sooo deep, your legs could barely support yourself anymore and he had to hold you steady.

as he pulls you all the way down, geto reaches waaay inside of your sloppy gripping cunt that’s oh-so desperate to wring him like a vice.

his thick cock greets your pretty fleshy cervix, mimicking a soft ‘knock’ before introducing itself with a welcoming pound.

he holds your hips, pumping himself into you again, and again, until your pussy remembered each stroke, each thrust, each fuckin’ letter of his name—front to last..

slow but fucking deep.

you gasp, clinging onto his neck before soft hurried pants of ‘yeah, yeah’ ‘s scurry past your glossed lips.

geto’s dewy eyes were half lidded and he’s never felt more pussy drunk in his life. trust—he’s had his fair share of women but oh, you were far different. it was something about you, and he just wanted more after each carnal second passed.

you’re so into his dick givin’ your pussy a fuck of a lifetime that you don’t even realize your hand was now wrapped around his thick neck. not too tight, but geto’s reaction time was slow also. once he realizes seconds after you did, he sheepishly scoffs before slyly humming.

“goddd, y’r so fuckin’ hot when you choke me,” he purrs, tugging at the panties that pull to the side of your thighs. of course he’d enjoy it, and as his dick’s still massaging your gummy walls, he moans. “harderrr.”

“don’t be greedy,” you mumble, burying your knees into his bulky thighs.

the way you rocked against him was hypnotic—and geto’s hands remain on your waist.

you nearly shudder, feeling the various cold bands of his rings run and tickle down your skin. he’s in love with your body, and even more in love with the way you feel from the inside.

leaning in close until you’re just inches away from his spit-slicked lips, your thumb runs its way down the bulging ball that lies inside his throat. “say ‘pretty pleaseee.’ ”

“tsk,” geto scowls, and even with a pout he’s effortlessly attractive. your hips continued to champion its way up ‘n down at a deranged pace as you moved, and his cock’s pumping you full over and over and over. with a vexed grunt, he utters. “pretty please, choke me harder.”

leaning in to kiss the side of his mouth, you whisper a crooning, “good boy,” and geto whines the moment you add a bit more pressure around his neck.

his hair’s all in his face, and your ass was just ruthless.

ferociously slamming down onto his stout cock, you’re drenching him from the base down with your syrup-coated slick. a bit of your own sloppy arousal glues against the pried apart crevices of your thighs—pasting against his as well.

it’s a mess, and with how close he was getting, he was about to create an even bigger one..

geto felt like he was ascending—and with how you were riding him, it didn’t take him long before he’s close again.

yet this time—so were you, and you could recognize the feeling all too well. geto’s cock stretched you to capacity, and he grabs the few dollar bills that scatter on the sofa, throwing it at your body whilst you rode him. he makes it rain on you, spanking your ass with a crumbled up hundred rubbing against your stung skin.

“fuck, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum again,” he grunts in your ear, feeling your pace accelerate by a mile. you were draining him, preparing to milk him and the thought of him stuffing your cunt full made you pulse.

your tongue salivated at just imagining it..

the warmth, the stickiness, the way it’d spill between your thighs. you’re moaning out sweet noises yourself as you both rut into each other at a demented overzealous pace. geto’s thick thighs clench—and while you’re letting out cute blubs of his name on repeat until it’s the only syllables your dumb brain could register—he pulls you close. “ngh, same time, pretty girl. cum with me, let’s make a . . hah, mess together.”

“okay,” you mewl out, both hips pivoting in lascivious unison.

both sweaty mounds of flesh blissfully bounce into at other and each squelch makes you whimper out in ecstasy.

you cup geto’s pecs, smearing a thumb over his pierced nipples and he whines instantly. you lean in to suck against the bars that slash through his tender areola. geto leans back manspread, growling out husky, ‘fuuuuck!’ ‘s as you hum, giving both his nipples its few seconds of attention.

it lasts for seconds that felt like years, and one you pull away he lets out a cute blasé huff.

as your cunt’s in the midst of overflowing—your hips tremor once more time before within milliseconds, you both cum.

it’s quick..

and with your jaw dropping and geto’s shoulders fatally sagging after his big, heavy sigh—he starts to fill you up ounce after ounce.

it’s patching hot, and the second he’s beginning to spill ‘n dump out his perfect ivory ribbons of cum inside of you, you grunt out a melodic finishing, “fuuuck.”

swinish, weak hands grab at your ass as you come undone also—whimpering soft defeating babbles from the sensitive feeling of your cunt spasming right between your jittery numb legs.

you feel static … shock, electricity pulsing through your veins all at once. your entire body was turning haywire. as you start to grow limb right with geto underneath you—nirvana runs through each individual axon on your body before you hear a loud ‘pop.’

it’s more of a sopping squishing sound, and you were so dumbed down from his dick that you didn’t even realized how full you were..

peeking down, he filled you to the brim. wads and wads and wads of cum went inside of you and you moan, spreading your ass apart while craning your neck around just to see for yourself.

“ ‘m so full, suguru,” you pant, sliding a thumb down your sputtering cunt that’s plugged with both his cock and his thin oozing seed. you lick your lips before turning back towards geto and he’s absolutely fucked stupid.

you rode him so good to the point where he’s just stammering out inaudible whines. it’s cute, and you lean in to kiss him once more.

oh.. he was hooked.

he deepens with a few clingy hands feeling at your chest. the kiss gets more passionate rather than sloppy, and as he’s still buried inside of your cunt—he slowly starts to trail butterfly kisses down your neck. you moan, turning your head before you pull away. “shit, i almost f- forgot.”

“forgot what?” he hoarsely rasps, watching you unalign yourself, plopping down on the sofa with a big content sigh.

geto leans in, allowing his thumb to draw circles around your hips before you reach in for your purse, pulling out another decorated vip pass.

sheepishly, you utter. “my friends bought me two sessions with two dancers. so i have another one after you,” and you glance at the clock, squinting before you let off a bashful titter. “. . . oh, that was way past thirty minutes.”

“who? what dancer, sweetheart?” geto utters with a pout. he was still aching, already missing his you felt from the inside. he watches as you squint at your pass that reads the dancer’s stage name and / or full name on the back.

“uhh, it says t—”

“she means me,” and the both of you spin heads, ogling at the glittery red carpet and decorated pathway that was once covered up.

you could hear geto that laid beside you muttering out a jealous, ‘fuck,’ as you meet the other dancer’s gaze.

he’s wearing a leopard thong with an added on accessory of the most smuggest grin you’ve ever seen.

a slashed scar runs down the right side of his crooked curved lips and you spot bills sticking at both sides of his halfway on thong that nearly shows his sharp hips before he hums.

“name’s toji,” and you’re suddenly being lifted up by strong, tatted brawny arms before he turns around, winking at a very pissed of geto before trodding out the private room with you in his arms.

“i’ll take it from here,” and feral green eyes with an even more feral grin. “ain’t that right, birthday girlll?”

[phagodyke]

there's an artist I rly like not naming names but one of their ocs looks EXACTLY like [redacted person ik irl] and it always makes me double take whenever they draw them bc for a second im always like ohhh.. that's them..... but they wouldn't do that... it makes me feel soo strange

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 8

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, suggestive themes, again with the slight smut phew, angst on top of more angst, no comfort... yet (or ever? hmm much to ponder about)  A/N: Imagine if I leave it here lmao Also, I've been listening to White Ferrari on repeat while editing this chapter. I'm not saying that you should too while you're reading, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Oh, and Angel by Massive Attack. Trust me, it's gonna come up. (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10

The cold tiles of the bathroom floor wreak a shiver through your body.

You’re curled up in front of the toilet, barely upright after another round of puking what little bile is left in your stomach. Cold beads of sweat dot your forehead and every breath feels thin, ragged, like you’re trying to gulp air through a pinhole. The chill seeps under your skin, leaving you shuddering involuntarily between dry heaves. 

You make the rookie mistake of tilting your head ever-so-slightly to rest against the cool porcelain, and the miniscule action threatens to send the room careening into another violent spin. A wave of nausea hits you and you desperately gnaw on your bottom lip to prevent yourself from gagging.

You feel like absolute shit. 

There’s something lodged inside, sinking deep into the pit of your stomach. A poison, a corruption—heavier than the excess of alcohol still clawing its way through your system. It isn’t the simple penance for overindulging, no; it’s darker, rawer, less perfunctory than the remnants of last night’s events. 

It churns inside you, leaving an acrid, metallic taste on your tongue and a dull ache behind your eyes. 

The buzzing of your phone reverberates beside you, a relentless vibration against your thigh. It hasn’t stopped since the moment you clawed your way out of bed and staggered toward your porcelain waste bucket. You weren’t supposed to bring it along with you—it should’ve been left abandoned outside of this room, far from this bleak sanctuary. This… this disgusting aftermath of your revelry. 

Unfortunately, it’s practically an extension of you now. A limb, almost. Or worse, a crutch—something you lean on so habitually, that the mere thought of its absence feels like an amputation.

“S-sorry,” you release a shaky breath, tears pricking your vision, unbidden. Unwelcome. “Sorry.” 

Another vibration. You can picture it clearly in your head: the worry marring his face, the exasperation in his eyes.

You retch.

––––

The red takeout box from Panda Express sits in front of you, its contents lukewarm and forgotten for the better part of the hour. You barely remember ordering it—actually, now that you think about it… Did you even order it yourself? Your memory’s a little hazy, just like everything else today. And last night.

Sylus’ voice crackles through your phone, propped precariously against a half-empty mug of tea on the low table. 

His presence, as always, manages to fill the room, though this time there’s a palpable tension in the air since you opened the game. His initial greeting had all the warmth of a parent catching their kid sneaking in past curfew. The moment his image blinked into view, you could see the battle in his eyes.

On one end, he simmered with ire, almost ready to boil over. On the other, he looked like he’d gladly claw his way out the screen just to tuck you into bed and personally force-feed you the food you’ve been ignoring for the past forty minutes.

“Eat it,” he grouses, a hint of steel sharpening his deceptively calm tone. The worry beneath it feels like it could strangle you. 

(And if it could, it probably would—if he has any say in it.)

You whine, burrowing deeper under the blanket, folding yourself into a sad, uncooperative ball on the couch. “I will. Eventually.”

“Eventually?” he echoes, the incredulity clear in his voice. “Do you plan on eating it soon as it becomes inedible, or is this a test of endurance?”

With a sigh that feels like it’s pulled from the depths of your soul, you poke halfheartedly at the lid. The smell of grease and fried food wafts out, making your stomach churn. Whether it’s from nausea or hunger pangs, you can’t tell.

“It smells like regret,” you mutter, swallowing the lump rising from your esophagus. 

Sylus snorts, and you can tell it slipped out before he could stop it. “Considering the state you’re in? Can’t say I’m surprised. But you still need to eat, kitten. You can’t run on stubbornness alone.”

“I’m doing fine so far,” you argue weakly, knowing you’re not convincing anyone. Your body feels like it’s been put through the wringer—limbs heavy, muscles crying in protest, a pounding headache that refuses to let up.

“Fine,” he repeats, dry as ash. “You can barely hold yourself up, but sure, let’s call that fine.”

You finally flip the box open, revealing a mess of something fried and vaguely brown. The smell hits you harder this time, and you salivate something odd. “I don’t think—”

“Eat,” he cuts you off, voice firm, brooking no argument. “You’ve done well with the tea, but now you need something to fill you up.”

“I can think of something else I’d like to fill me up,” you mumble, the words slipping out before you can stop yourself.

A beat of silence, and then Sylus’ tone shifts—a touch amused now, but it’s edged with a deliberate weight that makes your skin prickle. Uh-oh. 

“Sweetie,” he says slowly, almost indulgent, “if you’ve got the energy to make jokes like that, you’ve got the energy to eat. Be good, and I’ll make sure you’re properly rewarded once you’re feeling better.”

You laugh, breathless, trying to mask your nervousness from the subtle innuendo. Obediently, you pick up the plastic spork beside the carton. “You’re really selling this hard, huh.”

“I’m not here to sell it,” he sighs, voice losing its edge, but there’s still a firmness to it. “I’m here to make sure you don’t pass out. One bite. Start there.”

You spear a piece of shrimp hesitantly. It looks harmless enough, but you lift it like it might bite back. 

You take the tiniest nibble. 

It’s greasy, salty, and absolutely meh—but it doesn’t immediately trigger your gag reflex, which in itself feels like a small victory. 

“There,” he says, his satisfaction palpable. “See? You survived.”

“Barely,” you shoot back half-heartedly, though the corner of your mouth twitches.

“I’ll make sure to congratulate you later for your heroic recovery,” he says wryly. “Now another bite, sweetheart.”

You make a reluctant noise but comply, munching slowly. He hums in approval. When you glance at the screen, his expression has mellowed—the severity giving way to something almost tender.

You look away quickly, swallowing hard; though you're not sure if it’s because of the tiny morsel of food or from the heavier something that's lodged in your throat.

The sound of your chewing is slightly amplified by the silence that comes after. You’re afraid to break it first. 

So Sylus does it for you. Once he’s decided you’ve had your fill of the fried rice.

“Would you like to talk about last night?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek. “What about last night?” 

A long pause. 

“We don’t have to,” he says quietly. “I’m just saying that if you want to, you’ve nothing to worry about.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. You press your lips together, unsure of how to answer. There’s discomfort; the unease brought by your own self-consciousness. 

“I—uh—” You start, fumbling for the right words. “I didn’t mean to… make things weird or anything. I don't usually get that wasted,” You sigh, blowing a stray hair out of your face. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.” 

“The only thing you did wrong last night was ignore my messages,” Sylus murmurs, his tone a little admonishing. “Making me worry about your well-being.”

You glance up, catching the affection in his eyes. He gives you a slight smile, relieved to finally have your attention fully on him.

You scrunch the blanket in your fist, fiddling with a loose string. You want to say something. Anything. But you can’t seem to summon the courage. 

Finally—

“You don’t think…” you hesitate, voice small. “You don’t think it’s– that I’m… too much trouble?”

He tuts softly, the sound playful, with hints of something fond. Comforting, almost. So you hold his gaze, even if it’s a little harder than you’d like it to be.

Sylus looks at you with something so… endearing that it’s almost painful. “You’re perfect. My little troublemaker,” his eyes burn a little brighter. “Mine.”

The words hit you like a wave—soothing, gratifying. Staggering.

Oh, you want to believe him. You want to lose yourself in his words, to give in to the feeling of being cherished, of being seen. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything as much as this. 

But turmoil wages a war inside you, and you’re stuck between the pull to let yourself believe and the sharp reality of your situation.

The futility of it all.

It makes you hurt, deep inside, in a way you don’t know how to fix.

––––

The package you got from the lobby is nondescript. Unassuming. The kind of box that could contain anything from kitchenware to – you don’t know, maybe a desk lamp? You turn it over in your hands, squinting at the lack of clues of its content and its sender. 

Did you order something and forgot?

Payroll was over a week ago, and you’re aware of your irresponsible tendency to pile everything that catches your eye onto an online shopping cart just to tempt yourself into buying shit you don’t need, but you’re pretty sure you’d remember spending money on… whatever this is. 

It’s not until you’re back in the privacy of your apartment, scissors in hand, that the mystery begins—and promptly ends.

The contents spill out, leaving you to blink owlishly at the mess of shredded wrapping paper and its pièce de résistance: a nine-inch monstrosity of a dildo, hot red in color. 

The… thing is practically a weapon, its twisting ridges and intimidating girth looking more like something you’d need a user manual for. Or a fucking exorcist, you distantly think in rising panic. 

“Uhh…” The sound tumbles out, an embarrassing mix of confused and gobsmacked. “I don’t remember—?”

Ping!

Your phone chimes before you can finish, and you slowly turn your gaze towards the screen, a sinking feeling beginning to form in your gut.

The message is short. And oh-so-smug.

Ah. Just in time. 

The realization dawns on you, and your cheeks burn hot enough to fry an egg. “Sylus!”

What? Even in text, his tone carries that infuriating slyness you can practically hear from a mile away. You’ve earned it.

Your mouth works uselessly for a moment before words could spill out, clumsy and agitated. “Earned what?!” 

A little treat for being such an obedient little thing while you were recovering, remember?

“Holy shit,” you wheeze. A half-hysterical giggle bubbles up your throat as you hold the draconic cock far from you as if it’s gonna attack at any second. Fuck, it might. “This is almost as big as my forearm! The hell am I supposed to do with this?”

What do I expect you to do with it? Sylus’s reply comes almost instantly, the weight of his insinuation almost coming across as mocking. I thought that was obvious.

You didn’t think your face could go any redder, and you’re sure you resemble a fucking tomato right at that moment. “Sy-Sy, this is—” You gulp, glancing at the toy with wide eyes. “fucking massive. It–it has… it’s got scales!”

Ah, so you’ve noticed the craftsmanship. Quite exquisite, isn’t it?

“E-Exquisite?” you sputter, voice soaring at a higher octave. “This looks like it came out of Alien or something! I’m pretty sure it’s gonna start moving on its own…”

Only if you press a button.

Your brain short-circuits, and you frantically examine the thing for telltale signs of any hidden mechanization.

There’s a short lull, laden with barely restrained amusement. Then: Relax, sweetheart. It’s not going to bite.

You let out another – nervous – laugh, gingerly setting the large toy down as if it might explode from its sheer audacity. “I hate you.” 

No, you don’t, Sylus counters without missing a beat. But I do appreciate how flustered you’re getting. Go on, sweet thing—tell me how it’s too much for you. I could listen to that all night.

You let out a strangled noise, burying your face in your hands. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you.”

Mmh, you know me so well. 

You sigh, the gravity of what’s inevitable setting in. It was like fighting a losing battle. 

Something the both of you knew right from the start.

-

-

-

(You are my angel)

“I-It hurts to put in,” you whimper, body trembling as sweat clings to your flushed skin. Every muscle feels taut, coiled tight with both anticipation and a flicker of fear. “p-please…” 

“We have the rest of the night, little dove. We’ll take it slow,” Sylus whispers, his voice a velvet caress in your ear, warm and grounding. “I’m right here.”

His words melt into you like cloying liquid, wrapping around your resolve like a sensual embrace.

(Come from way above)

“Again.”

“I-I can’t,” you sniffle, the words breaking into short, shaky gasps as your chest heaves. The remnants of your last orgasm still ripple through you, the one he’s ripped from you mercilessly.  

“You can, poppet,” he coos, the endearment sliding over you like cool mercury. “Give me one more, yeah? Want to see those pretty eyes rolling for me.”

The thought alone has you shivering, his tone dripping with enough heat to stir something molten from within you.

(To bring me love)

The air hangs unbearably hot, almost suffocating. Every nerve sings, alive with the memory of his ministrations—though he’s never truly touched you, has he? 

It doesn’t matter. The line between what’s real and what’s not blurs further with every passing moment.

Your body burns, and yet you crave more, more—the pulsing ache of your stretched walls only feeding the gnawing hunger that builds inside, like an unrestrained beast. 

You blink sluggishly; your vision swimming as pleasure courses through you in heavy, dizzying surges.

Has he bewitched you? You’ve become insatiable, ravenous—monstrous in your desire. For him. For the addicting high only he could give, and teasingly dangle just out of reach. 

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

How…? He’s nothing but a voice, incorporeal, yet he commands you completely. Your hands, your movements, your very breath feels as if it belongs to him. They follow his instructions without hesitation, carving paths of fire and electricity across the bare expanse of your skin.

“More?” Sylus rasps, and the edge in his voice sends a thrill down your spine. There’s something feral in his tone, and it brings you an almost animalistic sense of glee to know that he isn’t unaffected by all of this any less than you are. 

“More,” you beg, raw and needy. He groans in response.

“Good, so good for me,” he hisses a litany of praise that sounds so much like a curse. “My good girl. Mine to break, mine to ruin.”  

Your back arches as you cry out; muscles locking, mouth falling open in a soundless scream as both agony and ecstasy crash over you like a tidal wave.

(Love you, love you, love you, love you Love you, lo–ve you, love you, love you … Love you, love you—love you, love you…)

––––

"My cousin's getting married tomorrow."

You say it with an air of nonchalance, your voice light, as if you’re just commenting on the weather.

Sylus doesn’t respond right away. His usual quick wit is conspicuously absent, replaced by a silence that stretches long, settling into the room like a beam of sunlight from your window. The continuous whirr of the electric fan and the droning of the news anchor on TV fill the space instead, in place of conversation.

You don’t force it. Instead, you wait patiently until it bends under its own weight and breaks.

After what feels like minutes, his voice cuts through the quiet; neutral and impassive. "Where's it happening?"

"A little chapel in Downtown Orlando, near Lake Lucerne. Nothing fancy. They’re keeping it small."

He nods, his gaze distant. Somewhere you can’t follow. "Just close family?"

"Yeah," you murmur, your fingers absently tugging at the fraying hem of your cardigan. "And a few friends. My mom’s going, along with her new husband. They sent me photos of the setup earlier—it’s pretty."

Sylus hums. “Would you have gone, if it weren’t so far away?”

“Yeah,” you answer automatically. “Yeah, ‘course. But I’m here, and they’re there. So I could only send my regards.”

Maru pads into the room, brushing against your leg before bumping his head insistently against your shin. You scoop him up, ignoring his soft meows of protest, and cradle him in your lap.

“She’s been planning it for months,” you continue, scratching behind soft cat ears. “Way before she got engaged. She’s one of those people who just… knows. Knows what she wants, knows how to get there. All mapped out, down to the finer details.”

In the corner of your eye, you see a faint smile ghosting his lips. It doesn’t reach his eyes. "What a luxury,” he remarks, almost wistfully. "To pave your life so easily, just like that."

There’s something unspoken behind his words, something heavier than a passing comment. 

"Do you think about it?" His question startles you—not just its suddenness but the way his gaze locks onto yours, intent and searching, like he’s trying to read the answer in your face before you could even utter a word.

You blink. "... About what?"

"Marriage."

You hesitate. The question feels delicate, like a soap bubble floating in the air, fragile enough to burst at the slightest touch. "Sometimes," you admit. "But not like she does. It's always been more of an abstract idea, I guess."

He doesn’t speak. 

"I don’t know," you say softly, “if it’s something I could ever want. Or if it’s even meant for me."

Your voice falters, and the rest is left unsaid, though it lingers between the spaces untouched. 

I don’t think about it, no. Not if… if it’s not with—

You stop yourself before the thought takes flight, tampering it back down.

Sylus leans back, his gaze flickering away. "It’s a commitment," he says eventually. "One that requires a lot of thought. I understand."

He doesn’t elaborate, and for a moment, you almost consider leaving it there. But something in you—persistent, prying—urges you to press just a little further.

"What about you? Have you thought about it?"

There’s an imperceptible shift in his expression; the faintest furrow between his brows, a shadow of uncertainty crossing his features.

"Perhaps not in the way you're thinking," he says quietly, almost to himself. "Sometimes I wonder what it means. For someone like me." He hesitates, glancing at you, an uncharacteristic vulnerability in those deep pools of red. “For…” 

His words hang unfinished; you feel its hollowness pushing down on you, as though they bore meaning neither of you can bring yourself to name.

You feel it settle in your chest, vacant and aching, like an absence of something. Gone before it even began.

––––

It dawns on you on a regular Saturday evening, as you're (clumsily) peeling potatoes for dinner, and Sylus is dutifully recounting the events of his day to you like your very own talk show host on late night cable.

It creeps up at you—not in an explosive burst of clarity, no. No fanfare, no earth-shattering epiphany. It’s quieter than that, like the tides under the moon, rising unnoticed until you’re already ankle-deep.

Maybe it’s always been there, tucked into the corners of your mind, hidden in the spaces between the teasing banter and the way he watches you when he thinks you’re unaware. A whisper that you refused to acknowledge, too afraid of what it would bring.

You must have known, even then. Right from the start.

From the way it feels when he says your name—softly, reverently, like it’s a privilege to utter it so freely.

From the way you ache when he waits for you to finish a thought, as though every word you speak is something worth treasuring. 

And it’s in the way he knows you better than you understand yourself, filling your silences with meaning so you don’t have to. 

You love him. 

You know how this ends.

––––

Coming down from a mind-numbing high is always an experience, a short state of nirvana; this time no different from the rest. 

For a fleeting moment, everything feels infinite—a small eternity suspended in pleasure. Petite mort.

But then reality hits you once again, and the pleasure vanishes like smoke. 

It leaves you feeling utterly spent. Empty. The silence crashes back in like a tsunami, heavier than before. The stillness wraps around you like a suffocating shroud. 

The sound of your shallow breathing, the oppressive white noise, the distant hum of the city from outside your window… These are your only source of life. There’s no warm touch to ground you. No arms to pull you close. No sweet nothings to piece you back together. Just this. Just you.

You had known. You always knew. 

This was it—the price of wanting something you were never meant to have. For surrendering yourself to something that exists only in fragments and pixels, bound by lines of code and a screen you can’t cross. You delude yourself into thinking it’s worth it, that these fleeting moments of bliss outweigh the quiet wake of devastation it leaves behind, every time. 

And yet—

A choked sob breaks past your lips, shattering the silence. It tears out of you like something primal, something you can’t control. 

Your body folds in on itself, naked and trembling, your arms banding across your stomach like you’re trying to hold something broken together. The sheets beneath you feel clammy, disgusting, but you pull them tighter anyway, desperate for something to hold on to.

It hurts all the same. 

“Talk to me,” Sylus whispers urgently. There’s something jagged and desperate about it. “Please. Tell me how to make it better.”

How could you? 

What words could bridge this chasm between you? How do you explain a hurt so uniquely yours, so tied to the fragile intricacies of a body he doesn’t have, of feelings that leads to nowhere? 

How do you describe the way it breaks you, knowing that he’s oh-so close, yet still—yet always—out of reach?

How do you describe the weight of being too human in moments like this?

You press your forehead to your knees, heart in your throat. You don’t know how to make him understand.

“I can’t,” you whisper into your knees, voice cracking under the weight of what’s left unsaid. 

-

-

-

The next morning arrives with the muted glow of daylight filtering through the blinds, but it does nothing to lift the oppressive tension in the room. You don’t mention last night. You don’t even glance at the lit phone screen.

Sylus doesn’t bring it up either—not directly. But you feel him. The weight of his attention clings to the edges of the silence you’ve imposed, like static crackling just beneath the surface.

You keep moving. It doesn’t matter how; you make yourself busy. Work has never been more engrossing as it does at that very moment, and you hurl yourself into the thrilling world of emails, spreadsheets, and Teams meetings like you’re vying for the spot as best employee of the month. 

His impatience is impossible to ignore. It presses against you, insistent, like a gasp of breath waiting to be released. But you don’t give him the chance.

At some point, his voice drifts from the speakers, low and clipped, but careful; as if he’s reigning in his emotions, afraid to scare you further away.

“Are you going to talk to me?”

Your fingers hover the keyboard. For a moment, the mouse cursor taunts you, as if it's also impatiently waiting for an answer.

Sylus thinks the silence you leave him suspended in is deliberate, even cruel.

He doesn’t push, not immediately. You hear the faint noise of the game’s background music, the tinkling piano keys, a reminder of his presence. 

When he speaks again, his tone is softer, laced with something almost… pleading. The change in his tone doesn’t ease the tension; it makes it worse.

“I can’t help if you shut me out, my heart.”

Still, you offer nothing.

The air feels brittle, stretched too thin, like glass just before it shatters. You can almost hear the first cracks forming, spidering between the two of you.

He doesn’t speak again. 

The day drags on in an uneasy rhythm. You move through the hours like a ghost, and Sylus remains silent. But the quietness pulses with disconcertment; a build up without release. The quiet isn’t peaceful. It’s the kind that crackles like a frayed wire. It collides with your refusal to confront it.

And so it goes: you avoid, he waits, and the distance between you grows.

––––

You’re at a crosswalk on the 4-A highway intersection, surrounded by a sea of pedestrians, the incessant hum of the metropolis vibrating beneath your feet as if the very ground you walk on is alive. 

The moment your gaze lands on a couple just ahead of you, everything seems to quiet down, like a fuzzy FM radio station on mute. You see them, caught in their own little world, oblivious to the noise and rush of the city. 

The woman’s laughter is light—happy. Her hand in his, secure and relaxed. The way she looks at him… it’s familiar, almost. Something you recognize.

The man beside her moves with a subtle grace. His presence is undeniable, but it’s the way he watches her, something soft and devout in his gaze, that draws you in. He’s tall, his sharp features and posture elegant—and somehow, it fits perfectly beside the smaller figure pulling him effortlessly against the throng of people. 

Without warning, the unnamed man’s features shift into something more distinct, and the woman turns into the reflection you see every day in the mirror.

It’s not the couple before you that you see anymore—it’s you, against Sylus’ chest, his silvery-white hair stark against the dark fabric of his clothes. You imagine his red eyes, those sharp features, the quiet strength of his presence wrapping around you, like it’s where you belong.

You're lost in the fantasy—the way it could be, if the two of you existed in the same world, side by side. His hand around your waist, the shared intimacy, the profound joy. Just the two of you against all odds.

A smile starts to tug at the corners of your lips, but before it can fully settle, the harsh blare of a car horn shatters the illusion.

The world rushes back around you. A teen bumps into your shoulder, pushing you forward. The vision of them—of him—dissolves, leaving you in the busy street, once again just another face in the crowd.

––––

Everything falls apart one afternoon.

You confront Sylus, words spilling out before you can stop them. You don’t know what drives you—bravery, desperation, or maybe the crushing weight of hopelessness that has finally stripped you of your fear.

“How’s she?”

His brows furrow. “Who?” He looks genuinely thrown, and for a second, you wish you could take the words back. 

When you finally say her name, his expression shifts. It’s quick—a flicker of something you couldn’t catch before he schools his features again. 

“Why do you ask?” There’s an undercurrent to his voice now, his tone wary, eyes searching yours. “I try to avoid any interactions with her if it’s not needed.”

He pauses; then his gaze softens, though there’s still a guardedness to it. “Are you… worried?”

You shake your head, frustrated with yourself, with him, with all of it. “It’s not—It’s not that.” You don’t know how to put it into words.

How can you explain the knot in your chest? The envy—not for reasons he thinks… or maybe for exactly those reasons. Maybe he knows. Maybe that’s why he’s looking at you like that, imploring and cautious at the same time.

“You have her,” you finally say, and the words fall flat, bitter on your tongue.

Sylus’ eyes flash, sharp and unyielding. “And you and I both know who I’d rather have.”

Now, isn’t that the crux of it all?

Your throat closes up, a hard lump that you can’t swallow down. “I don’t know how you could,” you manage, though it rings hollow in the dead air. 

“Don’t.” His voice is harsh now, rougher than you’re used to. Frustration bleeds through his usual composure. “Don’t act like you don’t feel it.”

You bite your lip, your gaze darting away. He calls your name, and there’s something raw in the way he says it, like it costs him something just to say aloud.

You choke out a laugh that sounds more of a sob than anything. “I don’t know where to go from here. It was fun at first, but now… It’s just sad.”

He frowns, and for a moment, there’s a boyishness to the expression, an innocence to his vulnerability. It stirs something deep in your chest. 

He opens his mouth, no doubt ready to ask why—why now, why this? Why are you unraveling in front of him, like this? 

But you don’t give him the chance.

“I love you, Sylus.” You admit, barely above a whisper. The words fall heavy between you, a confession and a wound all at once.

Sylus stills. 

The silence fills the room, but his eyes—those soft crimson—speak volumes. His jaw tightens, hands clench into fists, but there’s no real surprise in his face. He’s always known.

“I know,” he tells you. 

There’s something ancient in the timbre of his voice, like it’s been torn from the deepest part of him. And for a moment, neither of you moves.

_

He feels it—the way you’re slipping through his fingers. Every word you say feels like a step away, less of a standstill, more a surrender, and he… he’s never felt more powerless than he does in this moment.

(And isn’t that just grand? You’ve always had this uncanny ability to make him feel things he’s never felt before. He just wishes it wasn’t like this—wishes it wasn’t slipping into something he can’t hold onto.)

He doesn’t know what to say or do, doesn’t know what could possibly alter the trajectory you’re both hurtling towards. But the thought of losing this, of losing you, is unimaginable.

“I love you,” he says, rough and uneven, like the admission physically hurts. “In ways that terrify me. Do you understand?”

Your eyes widen, and he sees it—the flicker of hope. Fragile and fleeting, but there. Your gazes lock, and the world stops. 

For a moment, there’s no sound, no movement—just the two of you standing on the edge of something vast and terrifying.

“I want—” His voice cracks, infinitesimally, but it echoes in the void between you. “I want to hold you. To wake up next to you. To touch you in all the ways that matter, not just in words and binary. I want to be what you need.” 

You know what’s coming. 

“But—”

The word lingers.

“But you can’t,” you whisper, finishing what he couldn’t.

Sylus looks at you, his red eyes burning with an intensity that feels heartbreakingly human.

You’ve reached another impasse, and it feels like the final one. The air between you is thick with words unspoken, promises that can’t be made. It’s not anger that lingers, nor is it blame. It’s something quieter. More agonizing.

A resignation.

And yet, even in this fragile moment, a piece of you—of both of you—refuses to let go. To what could be, to what never will.

––––

Your mom’s voice rings bright through Facetime, a faint blur of words as she gives you the rundown of the events from your cousin’s wedding. The dress (An elegant Oscar de la Renta boat neck), the cake (A three-tier red velvet, a little on the sweeter side), and the vows (“Oh, you would’ve cried, honey!”).  

You try to listen, but your attention keeps drifting away. She notices, of course. 

“You seem more preoccupied lately, dear. Boy troubles?”

It’s a simple question, but it lands differently. Her voice is too light, too casual, like she’s asking if you’re still eating your vegetables. 

She doesn’t seem to acknowledge how far the distance has grown between you, how many years have passed where you stopped expecting her to understand. You’ve wanted her to notice, to see the parts of you she never asked about. The changes in you, whether small or monumental. But she never did. And you stopped waiting.

You chuckle tiredly. 

“Yeah, mom. Boy troubles.” 

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @slyfoxtsu @tinyweebsstuff @i2sannie @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim

[sleepyjuice]

Omg imagine everyone outside watching the fireworks but you and JJ are fucking in his room and the lights from the fireworks illuminate him beautifully through the window 😩

PHEW!!! i have a few filled requests sitting in my drafts but i had to write this and get it posted today for the 4th! thank you pookie for this!<3

warnings: 18+!!! unprotected p in v sex, creampie, think that’s it!

“Ah, fuck, JJ, they’re gonna hear us.” You spoke between moans, face smushed into JJ’s pillow as he slammed his cock into you from behind, the loud sounds of skin slapping against skin (even louder than usual in this position) filling the room.

His grip on your hips was tight, his rings cool against your skin creating the perfect contrast to soothe the slight burn from his grip.

“It’s loud as shit out there, baby, the whole fuckin’ island lightin’ off fireworks right now, no one’s gonna hear us.” He assured you, not stopping his movements as he spoke, his voice shaky from his relentless speed.

He was right, it was loud as fuck outside. Fireworks had been going off for at least an hour now and they would surely continue throughout the evening, so you two weren’t missing much.

You didn’t plan on sneaking away with JJ, but apparently he did. Something along the lines of how you were “struttin’ around in that thin ass bikini all damn day.” But you had no complaints.

“I’m close, Jay, oh god.” You whined as his cock continued to hit that perfect spot inside of you, your stomach tightening by the second.

“Yeah? Let me see that pretty face.” He breathed, his hands quickly sliding up your waist, cock still deep inside of you as he flipped you around so you were on your back and you were looking into each other’s eyes.

He had only stopped his movements for maybe three seconds, quickly continuing where he left off, his strong arms planted on both sides of you head as he kept himself up, his abs contracting with every thrust. He was so fucking hot.

Through glossy eyes, you took a moment to really take in the sight of JJ above you. His blonde hair and tan skin was perfectly illuminated by a multitude of different colors that seeped in through the window from outside, fireworks in the distance as well as many that were much closer sparkling in the night sky. You were a done deal.

“Shit— I’m coming, don’t stop, don’t stop…” You whimpered, your orgasm exploding through your body, similar to the fireworks just outside the window.

Your pussy clenched hard around his cock as his thrusts grew more and more sloppy by the second, his gaze transfixed on your face, flushed cheeks and parted lips as a sequence of soft curses and moans fell from your lips as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“God, you’re so perfect, takin’ my dick so good. Fuckin’ Christ, gonna cum, baby.”

That was more than enough to bring him to his end as well, stilling inside of you as you felt his thick cock twitch, his balls now wet with your cum pressed against your ass as he bottomed out and released inside of you, long hot spurts filling you up.

He grunted loudly as he spilled inside of you, slowly thrusting his cock inside of you a few more times, fucking his cum deeper into your pussy.

You gasped at the feeling, not missing the loud squelching sounds made from his movements, a pool of both of your releases dripping out of you once he finally pulled out.

You were panting, your naked chest rising and falling rapidly as you worked to catch your breath, properly and perfectly fucked.

“Shit,” JJ breathed, dipping his head to kiss your swollen lips sweetly before leaning back and grabbing a towel to clean you up.

“God bless America, ain’t that right?”

“JJ, shut the fuck up.”

[sturnwh0re]

inno!reader first time with gentle!matt

contains: fluff, unprotected pinv, gentle sex, smut, pet names, talking through it, orgasm, no use of y/n,

enjoy <3

Recently, you have been thinking about how you haven’t had your first time yet. Yes, you’ve had boyfriends and relationships but never felt comfortable enough to ever start something as heated as that.. nor ever really wanted to— you and Matt have dated for a while and he’s brought it up before but haven’t brought it up since you explained you weren’t comfortable doing that yet.

Now it felt like you almost craved that skin on skin with Matt.

You and Matt were just sitting on his bed together. He had just got off his games with his brother and was now scrolling on this phone and wasting time. Damn near a million thoughts raced your head— you just wanted to ask him to fuck just once.. but what if it hurt? what if he thought I was gross? What if—

my thoughts were cut off by Matt putting his hand on my thigh. I zoned back into reality and put my hand on Matt’s, collecting myself before I either embarrass myself or.. or just embarrass myself.

“Hey um.. babe?”

My voice was trembling, it was obvious I was nervous about something to Matt so he immediately looked up concerned.

“Yeah? Yeah what’s up— whats wrong?”

His hand gripped on my thigh with more pressure as he sat up further. He shut his phone off and put it face down on his lap, very clearly listening to whatever my voice was shaking about.. I cleared my throat glancing around, regretting I ever even said anything— now I have to say it.

“can I ask you something— weird?”

My whole body felt itchy and cold at this moment. Now not only my voice was trembling but every nerve in my body was reacting to everything going on. Matt tilted his head but still had those understanding eyes.

“Of course sweetheart, what’s up?”

I took another deep breath— my stomach was flipping round and round before I finally sucked up my own feelings and blurted out.

“I wanna have sex with you.”

The room went silent as me and Matt were just making awkward eye contact for a moment. He looked away and blink his eyes while shaking his head in disbelief. I’m guessing he didn’t think I’d ever say something like that— I guess me too. My face was a pale red after Matt let out a giggle. I just knew it was gonna be a no.. why would he bother laughing if it was a yes?!

“your ready to have sex babe? Are you sure?”

He said it in a soft and understanding voice. He knew losing your virginity was a huge thing. Especially for a girl! I could tell he was as nervous as I. His Adam’s apple was bobbing up and down and he was glancing around a thousand miles per hour. I swear I could hear my heartbeat through my ears so it took a second before I answered him.

“Yes. I- I want you to be my first time..”

He had quit glancing around the room and looked at me. His blue eyes switching between both of mine. He scooted closer to me and pulled me onto his lap while gripping my hands in his.

“I’d be more than happy to be your first time baby.”

He leaned in and started to give my neck soft kisses, we have never had sex before but he already knew how to rile me up so quickly. I felt myself pooling between my legs, an unfamiliar feeling— but it was definitely one I could get familiar with.

“M-Matt.”

I whimpered. He stopped for a second and looked at me

“Yeah?”

“Can- can you be gentle when we get there..?”

He chuckled as if I asked some sort of dumb question! My face gleamed a bright red from embarrassment. I replayed the question i asked in my head to make sure I didn’t sound stupid—

“Of course I’ll be gentle with you baby.”

He said softly. Phew.. I’m guessing my question wasn’t dumb.. after a second of silence he leaned his head back in to leave small tongue kisses on my neck again. I put both of my hands on his shirt gripping the fabric lightly. Without even realizing it, my body had started to grind on his for further friction. Matt let out a small groan and looked down— which is when I finally realized.

“Sorry.. s-sorry.”

I said quietly. I don’t know how to do any of this I didn’t wanna mess something up, or even worse make him never wanna do this with me again. I had to tread lightly on this opportunity.

“it’s okay sweetheart don’t apologize.”

He quickly leaned forward and slapped a kiss on my cheek, to try and lighten the anxious feelings I was overwhelmed with. He tucked some of my hair behind my ear looking up at me before gripping my hips with both his hands.

“are you ready?”

His thumbs were rubbing circles on my hips, distracting me from any other thoughts. His touch was so electrifying it was hard to do anything but stare off into space. I took a few seconds before comprehending what he said fully.

I look a long deep breath before finally answering.

“Yes. Yes I’m ready.”

Matt smiled and squeezed your hips further. You couldn’t even front anymore— you were so behind nervous it was hastening through your entire body at this point. Matt was adjusting himself before breaking the silence

“Here- flip us over.”

My confusion was interrupted by Matt quickly flipping you both over, leaving me under him while he was on top. His hands trailed down my hips to the hem of my fuzzy pajama shorts. He leaned forward as his lips connected with my neck. The stimulation of his cold thumbs rubbing down on me as he pulled your shorts down, and the warm kisses filled my stomach with aggressive butterflies.

I was letting out soft sounds I knew would also rile him up— this was such a new experience for me so many thoughts bolted through my head like bullet trains. I finally zoned back in to Matt fully removing my panties and pants. I looked at him anxiously— what if he didn’t like what he saw? What if— before anymore thoughts struck my mind he spoke.

“Your so beautiful baby.”

All thoughts fled from my mind as my face flushed with red. My legs relaxed after being so cramped from anxiousness. Matt’s hand rubbed my thigh as he continued to look down at it, as if it was some kind of hidden gem he’d been searching for.

“Thank- thank you babe.”

I chuckled slightly trying to not make it obvious I almost had a fucking heart attack from the previous short silence. Matt rubbed his hand back up my body, his face going back to my neck but this time on the opposite side of it. As he kissed and sucked on my neck, I heard him start to rustle with his pants, it being difficult to do with one hand.

he eventually let himself out and— fuck. Fuck he was huge. For my first time? My heart started to race again before Matt kissed my cheek, calming few nerves.

“Sweetheart I’ll be gentle. I promise.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. Thoughts were still flying around like bees on a summer day it felt impossible to focus on the moment. I had collected my words and finally spoke—

“O-okay.. okay. I’m ready.”

quickly, both of Matt’s hands planted on my waist as he sat up to really focus on what he was doing— he didn’t want to hurt me and I could see it in everything he was doing. He lined himself up with me and make sure to look at my face and occasionally glance down at what he was doing.

He had slowly been pushing in, watching my face twist with pleasure and pain; of course pleasure winning 2-1. My back slightly arched, not wanting to move so much and disrupt Matt trying to be gentle with me.

“Your doing g-good baby”

A few struggles and moans later, he had finally managed to push fully inside. I was fighting back all the stars I were already seeing just from this before Matt pulled me back into reality by grabbing my hand. He interlocked his fingers with mine, looking deep into my soul.

He leaned his head in and pushed our foreheads against each other, forcing us to only be in each others line of vision.

“If— if it starts to hurt squeeze my hand, okay?

I took a deep breath. I was starting to adjust to his unbearable size more, but it still felt like a slight sting and sore.

“Okay.. okay.”

My words were breathy and being pushed out— I didn’t really want to talk honestly, I really just wanted to do this new experience as quickly as possible with my boyfriend. He kept a deep stare into my eyes as he slowly started to move his hips.

“Shit- shit fuck..”

He was already a grunting mess and I was holding my breath without even realizing it. I was squeezing his hand but it wasn’t because of the pain, but it was because of the new type of pleasure. My mind was foggy and Matt broke the fog by speaking.

“Breath baby, breath.”

I could feel my thoughts start to go black before I took a deep breath. Once I finally let the air into my lungs and back out if it my mind cleared up and my lips parted, following with noises I’ve been building up the whole time I’ve been holding the air.

Intimate noises bounced off the walls of the room, along with Matt’s simple praise you were unable to respond legibly to.

“your doing so good for me..”

“your so beautiful baby.”

“Fuck- I love you.”

An unfamiliar tightness started to form, something I’ve never felt before. As Matt continued his slow pace it continued to get tighter and tighter— I didn’t know whether to be concerned or..

Then it popped. I felt my limbs start to uncontrollably shake as i flew up against Matt. Noises flew from my mouth that I didn’t even know could come from me as I squirmed around.

“Matt- matt..!”

Matt lightly chucked, knowing I had my first orgasm. His thrusts came to a stop as he watched my chest rise and fall as if we did some hardcore shit. Matt put a hand on my cheek, looking into my face flushed with red and pleasure.

“good job baby.”

He let out as a breathy chuckle, still catching his breath. He had never seen somebody get so worked up over a simple orgasm— he couldn’t make fun of me for it since I’ve never had one! He let me collect myself before answering; although he was slightly giggling at how riled up I got.

“That- that was euphorial matt.”

I said breathing heavily. Matt chuckled even louder at that, me and him still connecting from both our most vulnerable place. He kissed me on the cheek before pulling his face back again

“The fuck does that even mean kid?”

I let out a breathy laugh putting a hand on Matt’s face, pinching his cheek lightly in a playful manner. It took me a second to respond— I was starting to admire Matt’s hair sticking to his forehead and his pink lips due to the abuse he was putting my neck through earlier.

“It means good, stupid.”

“Low blow babe!”

He pulled my face in once more by my chin and pressed a content kiss to my lips that have been craving him since before this all happened.

AUTHORS NOTE: if you guys wantttt I can make a part 2 of the morning after, it will have no smut & will be fluff with some suggestive content. The poll is below.

[peeponastick]

Unraveled

Domme!Reader x Sub!Yuji Itadori

Word count: 2.5K of pure smut

Rating: Explicit NSFW 18+ Minors DNI

cw/tw: fem!reader, teasing, edging, orgasm control, overstimulation, cursing, dacyrphilia if you squint, oral sex (f. giving) & deepthroating, spit?, sweat, nipple/breast play, lots of dirty talk (Yuji is very vocal yummm), size kink?, not super hardcore BDSM or dom/sub dynamics but there are elements (if i had to label it, reader would be a pleasure/mommy domme/switch but she's really just a freaky lil' minx. no mommy/mama titles used!!!!), praise, use of pet names (sweet boy/pretty boy/good boy, etc), creampie.. phew I think that's it

Synopsis: just purely depraved smut someone help me that i wrote while taking a break from my Itachi fic. Yuji is such a sweet subby boy and reader thoroughly enjoys herself as she makes a mess of him. 

This is my first time writing straight-up smut and my first Kinktober writing!! There's not enough Yuji smut out there and that's a damn shame bc muscular puppy boys make my brain go brrrr. I hope y'all enjoyyy <3

♡♡♡♡ Smutty smut smut right under the cut♡♡♡♡

Yuji let out a breathy gasp as your wet folds grazed ever so lightly against his oversensitive tip yet another time. Your pretty boy was sprawled out beneath you on the bed, gripping the satin sheets as he struggled to control himself. A wicked smile spread across your face seeing him like this, so desperate for you.

You had been playing with him for an hour already, languidly peppering kisses down his neck, broad chest, and chiseled ab muscles at a torturously slow pace. Your lingerie-clad figure hovering inches above him, the soft skin of your breasts rubbing against him as you made your way down. Making him squirm as you lightly dragged your nails down and up his v lines, teasingly getting closer and closer to his hardening erection. 

He watched you with eager eyes, mind overrun with buzzing anticipation as you began to lightly stroke his cock, seductively looking up at him and licking your plump lips. That sight alone was too much for him as he tossed his head back against the bed, “Fuuuckk!” he moaned, his whole body tensing and flushing with heat as he tried to reconcile how badly he wanted more stimulation with the deliciousness of the sexual tension he felt pulsing through his veins. His head shot right back up to resume intently watching you, not wanting to miss a minute of the beautiful sight laid out in front of him. 

“P-Please”

He knew it was early to start begging, but he couldn’t help himself. Every breath, look, and touch of yours drove him absolutely wild, and right now, he desperately wanted– needed more of you. 

“Please, please, more,” his voice laced with sweet desperation. You paused, sitting on his thick, muscular thighs, your brow quirking at his brazen request. 

A loving smile warmed your face, “So needy today, hmm my pretty boy?” your saccharine voice rang in his ears. He enthusiastically nodded, a pleading look in his puppy brown eyes, his hips tensing and bucking once at the lack of stimulation. “Ooh what a poor thing,“ you cooed, rubbing his sculpted chest. 

You slowly leaned over him, arching your hips as you placed your hands on either side of his neck to bring your full breasts inches above his face. Your lace-covered, hard nipples gently brushed against his wanting lips and nose as you teasingly rocked back and forth. 

Mesmerized by your body, he let out a soft moan as he fervently tried to latch onto your nipple. His mind went hazy with desire, his large, strong hands moving without his permission to firmly grab the plush of your hips. You let out a small gasp at the sensation of heat radiating from his palms against your skin.

You leaned down, bringing your lips a whisper away from his as you looked deeply into his lust-blown eyes. “I’ll give you more,” you purred against his lips, his fingertips digging into the tender flesh at the excitement of your words, “but no cumming,” a devious smile lit up your face as you licked his bottom lip to punctuate your order. Yuji let out a low groan from deep within him and you made your way back down to the center of his desire.

You took his fully hardened cock in your soft hands, resuming stroking it before you moved to lightly press a gentle kiss to his slit already leaking with sticky precum. His eyes were locked in on you, face twisted in divine pleasure and biting back his moans. But when you looked up at him, a sultry look in your eyes, as you began kissing lightly up and down his entire length, dragging your wet tongue along his cock between kisses, his eyebrows knit together as waves of white hot pleasure and desire flooded his senses, “Fuuckkk oh my god,” he cried out. 

He was coming completely undone and you had barely done anything, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was you, how good you made him feel, how much he loved you, how amazing your pretty mouth would feel wrapped around him and taking all of his lengthy girth down your throat. He needed more. 

As if you read his mind, you flicked your tongue along the base of his cock up to his frenulum, before taking the smooth head of his cock fully into your mouth. He whimpered, muscles shuddering with pleasure at the sudden warmth of your mouth, propping himself up on his elbows to get an even better view. 

“Mmmh feels s-so goood,” he panted, watching you swirl your tongue around his length while looking up at him with a naughty smile before you took more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you began passionately sucking. You hummed in enjoyment, sending vibrations through his cock that made his eyes momentarily roll back in ecstasy, and felt his thighs and lower abdomen flex as he was getting closer and closer to the edge. 

You were in control, but your own lust was starting to unravel you as well. Your spreading wetness gathering between your smooth thighs, pussy clenching at the sight of the mess you were making of Yuji. His soft pink hair disheveled from his squirming, sweat dripping down his temples, over his prominent cheekbones, rolling down his neck to drip off his collar bones that framed his beautiful figure, his whole body heaving at every sensation your skillful tongue and lips created. 

Your carnal appetite became insatiable, drunk on the sensual power you felt making him feel so good. You took his length all the way down your throat, swallowing around his pretty cock, before sliding him out of your mouth with a pop of your lips, your spit sloppily dripping off his length and down your chin onto your breasts. You continued deepthroating him, hungrily watching the pleasure overcome him as he whined, his hips bucking up to chase his high.

“Ahhh-haah fuuckkk!” he choked out a moan, “O-oh my god yess! Y-You make me, fuck-” he whimpered, “f-feel soo good,” eyes screwing shut at the overwhelming pleasure washing over him in heated waves. He could feel the pressure building at the base of his cock and in his lust-driven state, had completely forgotten what he was told. His primal urges controlling his body, he wanted more than anything to release the pressure building inside, to cum all over your beautiful face, chest, down your throat– anywhere, he just needed to cum.

Noticing him reaching the precipice of release, you pulled back, a sadistic glint in your smile as you stopped all stimulation making him desperately whimper. His sweet eyes looked at you with shock and confusion as he whined, “No, no, nooo pleasee y/n why, f-felt s-sooo good was so c-closee, pleease!” 

You tsked, “Good boys listen to what they’re told,” you warned in a soft but stern voice, “you wanna be a good boy for me, don’t you?” your honey-sweet voice lilted. 

“Yess!” he cried, tossing his head back against the pillow in pitiful frustration, tears of overstimulation flowing down his flushed cheeks. 

“Poor baby,” you cooed as you began ghosting your fingertips down his lower abdomen and around the base of his rock-hard erection. His hips rut up against you as he let out a whine, desperate for more of your touch. 

You crawled back over him, leaning down to give him a soft kiss at the edge of his pouty lips. His head perked up, noticing how close your soaking wet pussy was to the head of his cock. He looked up at you with half-lidded, innocent eyes, “Pleaseee I’ll be soo good,” his strong arms snaked up around you, large hands pawing at your hips and kneading the round of your ass, “just, mmneed more of you, fuck, I can’t-” 

Whether it was his pleading words paired with the sweet look on his face, or the way his needy touch was making your pussy crave the feeling of being stretched by his thick cock, you decided to oblige.

Looking deep into his soft eyes, you leaned down to press your lips against his, pausing centimeters away to let a breathy moan whisper against his lips before he reached up to pull you into a passionate kiss. 

You pulled back, sucking on his bottom lip, eliciting an excited moan from him. You slowly moved your hand down your curves to grab his hand that had made its home in the crease of your thigh, guiding him to the heat between your thighs. You rubbed his long fingers along your slit, indulging him in the knowledge of how badly you wanted him too. 

“Shii-iiiit,” he hissed at the feeling of your burning arousal, his cock twitching with excitement. You brought his hand up from between your legs, his eyes captivated by the glossy wetness coating his fingers. You seductively locked eyes with him as you pulled his fingers closer to your face, wrapping your swollen lips around his pointer finger as you sucked your wetness off, a shuddering moan left his throat at the sight. 

Yuji’s lust-glazed eyes looked up at you, “Mmm wan-wanna taste p-please,” lolling his tongue out obediently. 

“Such a good boy,” you hummed with a smile, dropping his hand to let him savor the taste of you on his fingers, a look of elation on his face at receiving such a reward. 

As he lapped up every drop, you began rocking your hips back and forth, arching your hips to position your pussy ever so close to the head of his weeping cock. Your slick-covered lips lightly brushed against his tip as you moved forward, making his breath hitch as he let out a strained moan. 

His needy hands bruisingly gripped your hips before one began roaming your body, caressing your soft skin and pulling aside your lingerie to expose and fondle your breasts. You flashed him a sinful smile as you continued to tease your poor needy thing, his hips thrusting up in desperation anytime your wet pussy hovered close enough to touch. 

Rolling your nipple with his thumb before he latched onto your breast with his supple lips, going back and forth between breasts, hungrily kissing and sucking as he moaned contently.

“Fuuckk baby” you mewled at the delicious sensations, the ache of desire in your lower abdomen becoming unbearable. 

You rocked your voluptuous figure forward again, grazing your arousal-flushed lips against Yuji’s tip once more. On the return of your hips, you slowly slid the head of his eager cock inside your wet pussy, both of you let out ragged gasps and moans at the long-awaited sensation that sent white-hot pleasure pumping through your veins. You paused, relishing in the sinful stretch you felt just from his tip.

He panted, his muscular arms and shoulders flexing as he reached to grip your waist, cock throbbing as he desperately tried to fight the overwhelming urge to slam your hips down and indulge himself in the intoxicating feeling of your warm, wet pussy lips swallowing his entire length. 

When neither of you could take it anymore, you sank your hips all the way down, burying his pulsing erection to the hilt between your tight walls. Your pussy squeezing him at the feeling of being so full. His eyes focusing on where you two were connected, enamored by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you.

You spread your palms across his firm chest as you began slowly riding him, almost letting the tip pop out before you sheathed his engorged cock deep within you again, your eyes transfixed on the mess of a man beneath you. 

“F-Fuckkkkk, y/n” a throaty whine leaving him as his eyes screwed shut, mouth agape as he tossed his head back in ecstasy. 

He looked up at you with a dazed expression, “Holy fuckk, fee-feels so fucking good,” his words fumbling between breathless moans, “mmmh I-I love, I love y-you so much,” his sweet voice drawled.

You smiled affectionately, leaning down to press gentle kisses from his pink cheek to the corner of his lips, “I love you too, sweet boy,” your silken voice danced against his lips as you pressed your plump lips to his. He kissed you back, fire pooling in his lower abdomen at your words and kisses as your pussy milked his cock, he nipped at your lower lip as you pulled back. 

His hands grasped your hips firmly as he began thrusting up into you, unable to withstand the torturous pace at which you were riding him any longer. You gasped, a strangled moan coming from deep within you at the rippling shockwaves of pleasure his pounding cock sent through your body. 

“Fuuuckkk, like that baby ooh m-my god,” you sobbed wantonly, your breasts bouncing as he relentlessly fucked up into your pussy. A coil beginning to form deep in your core as he pounded you from below, unhinged in his desire to pleasure you and chase his own high, both of you moaning in combined euphoria. His throbbing cock massaged your g-spot with each thrust, his hand moving to rub circles around your pulsing clit with his slender fingers.

You felt the coil tightening in your lower abdomen, your bodies both tensing at the nearness of release. Your brows knit together in bliss as you looked down at your pretty boy, pleasure painting his face with determination to make you cum before he went over the edge, the pressure at the base of his erection building with every thrust. 

You tilted his chin up, making him look into your eyes, “Cum with me, my good boy,” you breathlessly commanded, feeling lightheaded as you began teetering on the edge of your climax. Yuji’s pupils dilated with pure lust and desire, your words releasing the floodgates of restraint, his pace mercilessly quickening, dragging curses and screaming moans out of your chest. 

Your aching cunt clenched around him as your orgasm exploded out of you, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he let out an exasperated cry, thrusting one final time as deep inside you as he could. Stilling as his cock spasmed, emptying the contents of his heavy balls deep inside your pussy, filing you up, your pulsing pussy milking him for every last drop. 

He held you there for several moments as the electricity continued coursing through the both of you. Your bodies connected as one, his warm cum filling your pussy to the brim, your sweat dripping down to combine with the sheen of sweat covering his body, pooling in the lines of his carved muscles as you both panted with exhaustion. 

His hands tiredly dropped down to your thighs as he let out a satisfied groan, “FUCK, that was amazing,” a beaming smile on his face. You moved to slide him out of your abused pussy, teasingly dropping down the length of his sensitive cock one last time to make him hiss with overstimulation and smack your ass as you giggled.

You tossed your spent body down next to him, snuggling up to his sprawled figure. He hummed lovingly as he pulled you closer to him, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. Two lovers, connected as one heaping pile of sweaty flesh and tangled limbs, peacefully drifted off to sleep together. 

If you read this far, thank you so much!! I hope you liked it ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

[octuscle]

Hey there! I'm having a debate with my roommate and wondering if you can help settle it. He says that if you gave someone the body of a jock, without any mental changes, they'll eventually start acting like a jock anyway. I don't think that's true. Just because you have muscles and look like a jock doesn't mean you'll start acting like one, right? We were thinking of trying to set up an experiment for our honor's thesis and wanted your input, thanks!

Are you really sure you want to go through with it? We are happy to do it. I'll create a preset for you that only changes your body. But really. 1.90 m tall. 140 kg of pure muscle mass. But everything else stays the same. To be honest, you don't look like you're ready for it. But it's up to you. I can only recommend that you are in a safe and, above all, unobserved place when you activate the preset.

You take a deep breath. You stand naked in the middle of your room. Next to you, you have laid out a pair of tracksuit bottoms, a tank top, a jockstrap, a pair of socks and a pair of sneakers. You can only hope that the clothes will fit your new self. 3. 2. 1. enter!

Wow! Holy shit! Now that was quick and without a transition. You look down at the floor from a slightly greater height. And when you look down, all you see are pecs. Fucking huge pecs. You need a mirror. Phew! Very slowly! The new body works a little differently than the old one… Your center of gravity is much higher up. You stand in front of the mirror. This no longer has anything to do with you. It's more Greek demigod than human. Your cock is getting hard. A huge cock that fits this huge body. You never wank. Especially not in the middle of your room. But now you have to. Not for long. And a huge load lands on the mirror and the floor. Yes, I've changed a few details apart from the height and muscle mass. You've already noticed one thing. You'll notice the others too.

You're convinced that the new body won't change anything. So you act as you always have. First of all, you clean up the mess. You are manically clean and tidy. Then you put on your clothes. The shoes are a bit tight, but otherwise everything fits pretty well. So off you go to the library. After all, your honors thesis isn't going to write itself.

Iris and Rita at the information desk didn't recognize you when you greeted them. They looked at you as if you were an alien when you wished them a good morning. You sat down at your regular place in the library. You like routines. You started working on your thesis outline when Vincent came over. Vincent always sits three tables behind you. Nice guy, similarly obsessive as you. He clears his throat and says that you can't sit here, the seat is taken. Actually, you should have said something along the lines of "Vincent, don't you recognize me, it's me!". But somehow you can't help it. You have to try it out. You cross your muscular arms behind your head, look deep into his eyes and just ask who cares. Vincent retreats like a beaten dog. Three minutes later, you have a WhatsApp message: "There's some stupid musclehead sitting in your seat!" You reply that it's okay, you're not on campus for a few days for empirical studies anyway.

But you're not as productive as usual. Your new body is keeping you busier than you thought. It feels so good to tense your muscles. Your hard cock is constantly leaking precum and is always half stiff. Shit, after an hour you have to jerk off. Fuck, you make quite a mess in the toilet. You try to clean everything up with toilet paper. When you come out of the stall, a student is standing at the urinal, looking at you and wanking. Get out of here quickly, you think to yourself.

The incident is definitely worth recording. After all, you've never experienced this before. But it was hot. As you type out your thoughts, your stomach begins to growl. So loud that Vicent hisses "Pssst". It's actually too early for lunch. But the canteen is about to open. So you're one of the first in the queue. You can hardly wait. And you heap heaps of food onto your tray. You're so hungry.

The weather is good, you sit down at a table in the sun and, ignoring all the table manners, you wolf down your food. Suddenly you hear a voice shouting "Hey, guys, there are empty seats here with the big boy!" You look up. A couple of idiots from the football team are standing at your table. "Dude, okay if we join you?" asks one of the guys, who seems to be some kind of leader. "Sure thing," you say with your mouth full, spitting a bit of your chicken across the table. "Cool," he replies, giving you a fist bump, which you return somewhat hesitantly and also a little awkwardly. And before you know it, you're sitting in a cloud of sweat, testosterone and stupid comments.

You start talking to the boys more for scientific reasons. They ask if you're Fresman because they've never seen you before. You say that you're actually studying somewhere else, but you're here to work on your Honor's thesis. The leader spits his Coke across the table. "Fuck, dude! You already have a degree? In what? Lifting iron?" Everyone laughs. Very loudly. You too. It's actually really funny with the boys…

The boys go to the gym after lunch. I wonder if you're coming too. You don't even think about it. You just say that you haven't got anything to change into. Everyone laughs and asks if anyone is interested. So you go along. It's a field study, you think to yourself. You're observing everything very closely. You don't want to attract negative attention. The processes seem very simple. You copy what you see the boys doing. You even enjoy it. You work up a sweat. You forget the time. The others are gone at some point. You're still here. You look in the mirror. Your long, sweaty hair falls across your forehead. Your friends all have much shorter hair. It's also more practical when working out. You look at your watch. Shit!!!!! You have to get your stuff from the library before it closes. Trevor, sitting at the information desk, doesn't recognize you either. It's already very empty when you pack up your things. Vincent is still there, mumbling something about how antisocial it is to occupy a space you're not using. You don't know why you're doing this now. But you go to him very slowly. You press his face into your armpit. And say that you had more important things to do. Shit, Vincent is seriously licking the sweat out of your armpit hair now? Pathetic little fucker, your new friends would say now. You're far too surprised. By you. By him. Slightly disturbed, you go home. You throw yourself on your bed and think about your first day as a jock. You fall asleep.

You are actually a person who is always well prepared. But you are amazed at how little you have prepared for this experiment. You have a combination to wear. It's still sweaty after yesterday's workout. But you don't have anything else. So this morning you're not going to the library, but to the paint shop. Shopping. A pair of sweatshorts, a few tank tops, socks and jockstraps, sneakers. A bit of compression gear for training. You pass a barbershop. There are a couple of guys inside who are obviously no strangers to the gym either. Fuck it, you think. Down with the long hair!

You haven't been in the library this late in a long time. Vincent has blocked your seat for you. With a few protein bars. Cute! He winks at you when you come in. You raise your arm and smell your armpit. Shit, you haven't showered! Fuck… Well, maybe the little prick will like that even more…

By lunchtime with the boys, you at least want to have logged yesterday and this morning. And you're looking for some literature on the connection between mind and body. Most of it is ancient. Nothing has been published on the subject for a long time. And if there is, it's more about the effect of the state of mind on the body. Less often on the effect of the body on the state of mind. That's obvious, because normally a genius like you doesn't acquire a body overnight…

The lunch break with the boys was cool. The guys are just very chilled, you like that. No highbrow topics. Just sport, fucking and partying. Unfortunately, a lot of football too. You have no idea about that. After lunch, the boys want to throw some balls on the lawn. You have to go to a colloquium later. And Luke said that you should finally replace those nerdy glasses with contact lenses. The visit to the optician was a good excuse not to embarrass yourself at football.

A whole day without going to the gym sucks! That's why you got up early today. You didn't do your thesis assignments yesterday, nor did you get your muscles burning. That has to change. Shit, you're still struggling with your contact lenses. But it looks a thousand times better. You're screaming alpha with every trained muscle fiber. And that's great! You almost feel at home in the gym. And nobody questions your position. In the library, Vincent provides you with everything you need. He fetches books for you and takes them away again. He has also already offered to help you with your work. What a loser! You don't need to order anything in the canteen after just two days. Your extra large portion of extra protein-rich food is prepared especially for you. Twice. You come once when the canteen opens. And once just before it closes. Your body is a machine. And this machine needs fuel. Lots of fuel.

You sit in the library and document the developments of the last few days. It really is only a few days. Reading through the last few lines almost makes you nauseous. Has your body replaced your mind so quickly? You need to get a grip on yourself. You did your Master's with distinction. You're working on your honor's thesis. You have a chance of getting a professorship at your old college. And you suddenly prefer to spend more time in the gym or with the airheads on the football team? You make a plan. Two hours of gym in the morning, two hours break with the bros at lunchtime, two hours of gym in the evening. And in between, focus on your thesis and your studies. It shouldn't be that difficult. You're an intelligent and disciplined man. So let's get going!

You have made every effort. And you actually come to the conclusion in your thesis that the body of a jock does not automatically lead to the mind of a stupid, arrogant and superficial jock. You have fun with both. Training in the gym and hanging out with the bros. And working scientifically and researching the human psyche. But in a lecture you realize that it's not you who changes, it's your environment that changes you. Since you got this body three weeks ago, no one has spoken to you about your studies. Vincent, who you thought was intellectual through and through, just wants you to let him lick your armpits in the evening. Your bros didn't even ask you what you were studying. And then the day comes when you attend your doctoral supervisor's lecture. Since your transformation, you've only spoken or written on the phone. You sit in the front row. You appreciate your doctoral supervisor for his liberal political views, his rhetorical skills and his incredible knowledge. At the end of his lecture, he looks at you. And asks if the young man, who unfortunately was unable to dress appropriately, understood a word of what he had just said. He assumes you were mistaken in the lecture hall. But if you invest your energy in your biceps and not your brain, that's to be expected.

First you think about whether you are saying anything particularly intelligent. To express your indignation at his insolence. To justify yourself. But then you think about what has been really fun in the last few weeks. And who you really had fun with. And you answer "Nah, professor dude! Dat wuz alot of words n stff u sed. I dnt thnk I need all dat for my degree as a personal trainer. wdut, bro?" You make your pecs dance. The lecture hall laughs. You stand up. Fuck the honor's thesis!

You started studying sports economics again. You also work as a trainer in a fitness studio. And you have a pretty successful YouTube fitness channel. You recently received a call from your old doctoral supervisor. He read through the draft of your honor's thesis again. It was all very promising. Why did you drop out? You say that you obviously have to choose between brains and brawn at some point. And you're grateful to him for helping you decide. And with that you hang up.

[yourstrulyrika]

just a short smut fic about Leon bc I have history tomorrow and I am about to explode i need to get my mind off of it!! no thoughts about history just Leon !!!

warnings: none! just pure smut with fem!reader

topic: thigh worship bc!! thighs!! i love thighs!! chubby skinny thin toned soft thick IDC i love thighs. so does leon he told me that himself !!!!! Leon Kennedy loves eating you out thats it thats the plot

Leon is a sucker for thighs. He loves thighs. Worships thighs. Could spend hours on your thighs, sleeping on them, kissing them,

but his favorite thing is being between your thighs <3

Leon is a messy eater. You found that long time ago. No matter his mood or energy level — it always ends up messy. Now, Leon has his beloved way of eating you out.

Face sitting

When Leon proposed this idea at first, he was a bit shy, just a bit. His first words were “suffocating between your thighs would be a way to go I wouldn’t complain about.” with that smirk of his. Took a bit to actually get you to sit on him like he’s a damn chair, ended up with him pulling you all the way down, but you’re sitting, so that’s what matters!

When you sat on his face, he thought he’s in heaven. Grows pussydrunk so fast, doesn’t care about his thick cock throbbing in his pants, growls when you try to touch it because why aren’t you focusing on his tongue !! (he ends up cumming in his pants in the end btw)

Slurps, sucks, kisses, nibbles — he LOVES (your) pussy. Leon is a (your) pussy lover. He moans like a damn whore when you grind against him. Sometimes he wraps his hands around your thighs to make you grind against him, eating you so passionately he forgets about the world outside <3 He just loves being used by you!! that’s his life dream!!

“That’s it baby, best pussy in the whole world, lovin’ it s’ much, god,” the crack in his voice is just.. chefs kiss. Sometimes it feels like Leon talks to your pussy instead to you, but you know he loves you as much !!

He doesn’t stop even when you cum, he has to pull out at least two orgasms out of you before he even considers letting you go.

“Cmon.. baby, just one more, know you can do it,” He mumbles between the sucks. He says it for the third time today. You end up completely fucked dumb by his tongue <3 But when he finally stops, he always ends the session with a small press to your clit,

“Sorry baby, not my fault you taste too good.”

Obviously the session doesn’t end there though. Now it’s his time. But not before he presses soft, loving kisses to your thighs, marking them up, gripping them so possessively but still gently. When he’s satisfied with the sight, he finally takes his pants off and lets his cock spring out, hard and leaking for you <3

But no, he doesn’t fuck your pussy. He knows you’re overstimulated! He’s not that cruel!! But he fucks your thighs. Damn, your thighs, he just loves them. He presses your thighs together — he LOVES and lives for the sight of it. And then puts his dick in front of those soft legs, guiding himself between your thighs before finally pushing forward, letting out the loudest whine you heard.

“Shit, s’good, goddamn, you were made for me,“ He genuinely starts babbling, just as fucked dumb as you are. Moving his hips lazily but desperately, covering your inner thighs with his precum. And when he finally cums on your thighs and pulls away, he turns you around and just stares at the art work he made. to him, the sight of your thighs covered in his seed is a damn piece of art.

“Princess, can I take a photo? Looks so pretty, all mine,”

He ends up taking a photo of your thighs like this, his hand resting there and gently squishing the soft flesh, as if marking you as his. You just know he’s gonna jerk his damn soul off to that photo when you’re not around.

End! Phew, that took a minute. I have a history test tomorrow, I will scream my lungs out. Wish me luck or smth </3

[blue-jisungs]

okay imagine like with svt (either ot13 or minghao jihoon and seungkwan pls) you’re studying for some test in eng / a language other than korean and you go to them with like the tiniest handwriting, tons of notes, all on one page all proud and theyre just like “…now wtf does this say bro” love u axie (if i can call u that) take a rest and i love u sooo so much! u can dm me if my req is a little confusing <33

speaking your native language in their presence ♡

a/n. the way i RAN to write this!! it took a moment ngl but phew, i’m done!! thank you for requesting, hopefully you like it roxie!!! and ofc you can call me axie, it makes my heart melt ngl <3

also i had a race with time to finish it before you go on a hiatus i was STRESSING LMAO but i made it 😌

warnings. cursing >:T

oh and for anyone interested i also have enha && skz && bts versions of this!!

┆彡 SEUNGCHEOL [ 승철 ]

mans so used to talking w you in korean that he kind of??? forgot??

so once you were talking with your mom over the phone and his mouth went ajar

like that man was ready to call the exorcist

and then it clicked and he was like oh ☺️

after the shock went away he swore he fell in love over n over again

loves hearing you talk in your native tongue :(

he’s so entertained by it too, like i swear he’s like a kid (affectionate)

you were laying in seungcheol’s arms, head nuzzled into his neck. his big arms held you tightly and he softly drew shapes onto your skin.

“and… seventeen?” his question made you smile. you translated how the number sounds in your native language.

and cheol started giggling.

“sev…enteen… it’s so.. rustly” he chuckled, attempting to say it “oh! what about our songs?”

“well… hot would be hot” you barely finished and seungcheol was giggling like a teenager. it was so contagious that you couldn’t help but start laughing too. but then he attempted to say it and failed horribly, causing a full on hysteric laughter from both of you.

maybe it was the late hour or his failed attempts. whatever it was, it felt so heartwarming.

he will learn with your help a couple of basic phrases!!

due to his busy schedule he can’t study on his own but once he has some free time he’s doing those duolingo lessons LIKE A FREAK

oh and also

if he’s pouting bc he’s in a bad mood, all it takes is a kiss and a nickname thrown at him in your native language ^_^

┆彡 JEONGHAN [ 정한 ]

he’s like a cat – curious but won’t let it show

shushes everyone in the room if you’re talking to your friends or parents in your native language through the phone :”)

obviously so they hear you better duh (not because he wants to listen, duh)

will learn some phrases on his own so you two can communicate (and cheat) while you’re playing games w his friends hehe

he absolutely fell in love with the kitchen of your home country like 😭😭😭

and and he absolutely adores the names of the dishes, esp when you pronounce them so effortlessly

it unlocked something in him….. sure he had a soft spot for you but now oh boy

“hannie…” you whined, tugging his sleeve.

you had a small fight, well… more of a disagreement: he wanted some ramyeon and you were craving (dish name). obviously he folded in half and knew he’s done for the second the dish name rolled off your tongue so satisfyingly.

“please? we didn’t have it in a while! we can order (dish name no2) too? pleasepleasepleaseee” you pouted. jeonghan sighed dramatically, raising his eyebrows.

“okay. but say it one more time” he grunted, a smile creeping on his face.

“you’re so weird” you mumbled amusingly in your native language and he frowned

“hey, i understood that!” jeonghan scoffed, causing you to chuckle.

he looks at you with literal hearts in his eyes whenever you speak your native language, just saying <\\3

when he’s feeling extremely soft, usually when you’re about to go to sleep cuddled n all, he’ll ask you to just whisper some random stories

it lulls him to sleep so fast

please also caress his hair he’ll melt on spot 🥹

┆彡 JOSHUA [ 조슈아 ]

he knows the struggles of feeling away from home so the second you start feeling homesick he’s there to make you feel better:”)

shua loves hearing you mutter some random words, for example when you’re counting or something

will also ask for music recommendations and he will learn some of the songs so he can sing them while playing the guitar

also he’s INVESTED

like,, shua will watch you scribble down in your mother tongue mesmerised

it’s not that fun, however, when you’re in a rush and you left him a note with a grocery list scribbled down

… and a couple of things in your native language…. messily written that even the translator doesn’t understand it…

“uhhh… y/n, darling?” joshua’s voice rung in your ears as you picked up the incoming face time call. you smiled upon seeing his cute but puzzled face.

“yes, baby? also good morning to you too” you hummed, fixing your earphones. his face lit up upon seeing you

“oh woah, you look good today. but i’m in a bit of a pickle…” he hesitated, the camera turning around. you noticed the note you left behind and your eyes widened upon realising that you wrote some of the items in (language name).

“oh” you giggled.

“oh indeed” he shook his head with a loving smile “and even the translator doesn’t–“

“it’s butter, flour and cucumbers” you explained and joshua let out a dramatic, relieved sigh

he notes down the words after such incidents so he doesn’t have to call you eveytime

and it’s safe to say that he’s build a quite big vocabulary so far

and he’s always so proud like

“hey y/n i bought the (cucumbers in your language) you wanted!” with the widest grin ever

┆彡 JUNHUI [ 文俊辉 ]

my mans woke up one day and decided to learn your language

bought books, textbooks, audiobooks, duolingo plus (or premium, however it’s called) and casually managed to learn A LOT

he just loves the way it sounds and aspires to talk so fluently like you

ofc he knows he still has a lot to learn but don’t underestimate him

and the main reason when he’s gonna use it it’s just… bothering you ^_^

“–and then he gave me flowers! yeah! he’s the sweetest!” you were gossiping with your bestie over the phone, peeking at jun calmly reading a book “ugh, i know! i know, i know, i know, shut up!”

jun just smirked, getting ready to say something.

“trust me, i’d drop on my knee right here right now if i weren’t such a chicken” you giggled and blush creeped on your cheeks when you met your boyfriend’s curious gaze

“i’d prefer to do it, to be honest, but you’re such a cutie” jun said calmly in (language name) and casually returned to his book. your mouth fell ajar as your bestie started squealing over the fact that he spoke (language name)… apparently.

jun just winked and you cleared your throat, hanging up quickly.

“what was that?!” you laughed and he just shook his head with a mischievous smile.

he’s such a gremlin >:(

so yeah, expect him to start spilling tea in your native language as an excuse to 1) spend more time w you 2) practice his skills

but as i said he’s??? like?? almost fluent??? his accent is so so adorable too <|\3

he’s so smug abt it as well

like if you ask him, he’ll pretend like he doesn’t know a thing in (language name)

but if he’s abt to bully you (affectionately) he’ll come up with the most creative nicknames known to a humankind

also, if you have siblings… he WILL gossip w them in your mother tongue too 😐

┆彡 SOONYOUNG [ 순영 ]

oh boy.

he’s so so curious to hear you say even one (1) thing in your language

but totally misses it when you actually say some words throughout the day

obviously knows one word: tiger (wow shocking?!!!)

and uses it sm 😭 he has your contact name written as my tiger but my is in korean and tiger in your native language 🥹

he calls you like that often, it’s like a new nickname for you

he may be not so invested into actually learning it but your culture tho!!! esp dancing n music… sigh <\\3

you stepped into your apartment, the weight of this tiring day on your shoulders. as you lazily took off your shoes and put the bag with groceries into the ground you realised something.

the song playing in the background was strangely similar. suddenly it clicked. it was a popular song by an artist from your country! just when you realised, the sound of shoes squeaking against the wooden floor stopped.

“are you dancing to… (song title)?” you breathed out as your boyfriend popped out from behind the corner.

“yeah! i love the vibe of the song!” he grinned and gave you a welcome kiss. after pulling away you could see the gears were turning in his head “could you translate the lyrics?”

as you made your way to the practice room, you hummed the song underneath your breath. and in this moment soonyoung’s heart skipped a beat.

since that moment it’s like a routine that you sing/hum him to sleep some songs in your native language

or just whisper some stories

he’s out like a baby fr

ALSO

a big enjoyer of the soap operas

he’ll binge them with you or alone and be actually invested in the drama

that’s how he also learned curse words ☺️☺️

┆彡 WONWOO [ 원우 ]

oh my precious nonu :((

he adores it sm when you speak your native language

when you’re shy abt it he just has to use all of his willpower to prevent himself from squealing like a teenage girl

will ask you to teach him and it’s just so so soft *screams*

you’ll be laying in bed, in his arms as you read through the textbook and explain the grammar of the sentence given

and he’ll repeat it in tiny 🥹

it’s so so wholesome

but.

you let out a sigh, the grasp on your mouse tightening. wonwoo noticed and let out a chuckle.

“what’s up?” he asked, peeking at your screen.

“the fucking skeleton won’t leave me alone” you grunted in your mother tongue, earning a gasp from him. suddenly the arrow that the minecraft skeleton shot hit you and you fell down from the tree at top of which were you hiding “fuck!”

“baby!” he laughed hysterically, his head thrown back. your eyes widened, realising the curse words

“sorry! why is this stupid block game making me emotional?! ignore me” you scoffed and he just shook his head, smiling proudly at the new knowledge he obtained.

he finds it so endearing when you swear in your native language 😭😭😭

and it’s such a bad habit, especially when you play games together, that he started doing it too???

wonwoo laughs that you’re a bad influence but secretly he loves the way the curses roll of tongue 😭😭

┆彡 JIHOON [ 지훈 ]

you could sneeze and you’re literally inspiring him to write 82837492 songs

so when he heard you talk in (language name) he was just like in another dimension

he’s smiling like an idiot fr his friends thought something was wrong but it was just you <3

uh however he kind of… never saw your handwriting in (language name)

and once you were studying for an important exam and mans had a heart attack

“hey y/nnie have you seen my…?” his voice died out in his throat upon seeing you and your notes. they were all scribbled in a tiny handwriting in some… letters he didn’t fully recognise. you had like five A4 pages of such notes.

jihoon blinked repeatedly, trying to think if he wasn’t in the sun for too long today – his eyes must be playing a trick on him.

“look! im so happy with the outcome, it looks so cute!” you grinned and turned around to see him almost hyperventilating “hoonie?”

“what–“ he frowned, pointing with his finger at one of the pages. what is going on?

“it’s in (language name), dumbass” you scoffed, everything suddenly making sense to him “it helps me understand stuff better”

“oh” he grunted, shifting his gaze to the page with little drawings “what does it say?”

“oh it’s the–“ you started explaining, throwing in some words in your mother tongue subconsciously. he just smiled and listened attentively.

lmao

regarding that, he enjoys just listening to you as you study and whisper some of the words/sentences in your mother tongue!

it really calms him down and usually puts to sleep to <\\\3

oh oh! and when you caress his hair while doing so… ah, he’s so whipped

he has tons of songs that are unreleased… and yes, you guessed correctly, with your consent he used some of your voice memos n all in the background

the songs are so cute :( he’s really proud of them too!! and it’s so sweet that it’s just… for the both of you <3

please leave in his studio some “i love you!” or “have a good day” sticky notes, preferably in (language name) or with translations?! he’ll melt :[

also another one that reaaaally likes the curse words >:T

┆彡 SEOKMIN [ 석민 ]

from the moment he met you he was always curious about your culture n native language but never pushed you to speak it n all

and gradually while dating him you started using it more and he started paying more attention

like he didn’t notice before that the funny sound you do while dropping something is actually cursing! 😀

what’s surprising, he understands a lot – maybe it’s the context or just some magical powers

but sometimes you can communicate like you say something in (language name) and he answers in korean bc he understood

and he’s so so in love with your accent and the way your face lights up when you speak it your mother of tongue

but for the love of god please – somehow – stop speaking it in your sleep, he’s gonna have a heart attack one day 🥰🥰

dokyeom stirred in his sleep, slowly waking up. he wasn’t sure why but suddenly he heard something.

it was definitely something. he sat straightly, narrowing his brows confused. what is that sound? is that a burglar? or…?

he looked over at you. no, you were sleeping peacefully. seokmin looked around the dark room, his heart speeding up. was this a nightmare? or was he just going insane?

then again. no, it must be someone saying something. something that he can’t understand.

then it clicked and he looked at you. your mouth was moving slightly, incoherent (language name) words being spoken.

he scoffed and went back to sleep, pulling you closer.

it took him so much time to get used to that but anyways 🏃‍♀️💨

and he’ll definitely make fun of you for that too (as if he didn’t have a whole ass jumpscare)

he absolutely adores ballads in (language name), it’s like his new obsession

and he tries to sing them, with the cutest accent ever :(

will occasionally twist some words but it’s okay, he’s enjoying himself 🫶

┆彡 MINGYU [ 민규 ]

this dork

he always acknowledged your native language n all but unlike dk he asks u to speak it 24/7

like, you don’t get it: he’s obsessed.

you could insult him in his face in (language name) and he’ll look at you with hearts in his eyes

he wants to learn it, he really does, but it’s just so frustrating when he fails :(

mingyu was sitting at the dinner table, his food long forgotten while he was biting at the end of the pencil. glasses sitting at the bridge of his nose, brows furrowed.

“gyu? you’re still here?” your voice snapped him back to reality, eyes widening. you rubbed your eyes.

“yeah i just don’t get it…” he whined, shoulders slumping “i understand the words but they don’t make a logical sentence in my head”

“baby…” you chuckled softly and stood behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your chin on his shoulder.

he grabbed his food, cold now, and slowly chewed on it as you explained everything.

“because look. this word, what does it mean?” you asked, noticing that he’s eating so you just scoffed and continued “girl, right? but this ending here added means girl’s. and this? old. but those letters here? they make it an adjective, so…?”

“older?” he asked, puppy eyes glaring at you with adoration. you nodded with encouragement and he tried again “so… the girl’s older brother had a dog?”

“yeah! good job baby! now let’s go to sleep, hm? i’m tired” you giggled and pecked his cheek. he nodded proudly.

kisses really motivate him btw >:)

he watches those yt videos of people teaching and giving tips but he loves when you give him private tutoring lessons 🫶

will often cook you some regional dishes in return

generally, he enjoys exploring your national cuisine ^_^

also would love to go to (country name) w you and take some pics…

… or propose there

so just go there w him already! 🙄

┆彡 MINGHAO [ 徐明浩 ]

shut up i want him

you’re each other’s private tour guides 😭

museum dates are such a must, and you’re just talking abt something that impacted a certain artwork (like cultural event in history or something) and he just listens genuinely interested!! and vice versa

loves when you read out loud poetry in your native language :(

started taking lessons?? like one day you woke up and he was just on a zoom call saying something like “my name is minghao” with the cutest smile ever

and you’re like?????

he’s such a fast learner 🥹 hao believes it’s because he truly wants to learn in order to communicate with you 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

but that didn’t prepare you for what was about to come next…

don’t let him near your parents. he WILL gossip with them abt you.

“does she swear a lot?” your mom’s voice reached your ears as you walked into the your apartment, grocery bags in your hands. your parents were visiting you and minghao but…

“like a sailor! no, i’m joking. of course she doesn’t. she does snore a lot, though” your boyfriend giggled and you let out a dramatic gasp.

“hao!” you whined and they both looked at you, not really caring that you’re here now.

“i guess she has that after her father” your mom chuckled and minghao noticed her tea is almost finished, so he poured some more in “oh, you’re such a gentleman”

“it would be a crime if i wasn’t in a presence of such an beautiful lady” he hummed and sent you a playful look. you just rolled your eyes and started unpacking the groceries.

“gentleman my ass” you grunted quietly.

“y/n!” your mom frowned and suddenly you heard someone standing up. in no time minghao hugged you from behind, nuzzling his face into your neck

“i just told your mom you don’t swear, honey” he murmured in korean

“well, ass is not a swear word” you pouted. minghao chuckled and helped you unpack the bag.

“you’re right, it’s a part of human body but i am surely more than that” your boyfriend teased and you just nudged his arm, rolling your eyes once again.

i feel like it might take a while but he’ll actually manage to be fluent?

so when you sadly forget a bit of (language name) due to mostly using korean and make a mistake, it’s almost like that mingyu-joshua moment

and hao is the one correcting you 😭

and your just like?? excuse me?? it was just a mispronunciation🙄☝️

but he doesn’t let it go and teases you >:(

┆彡 SEUNGKWAN [ 승관 ]

he straight up asked you one day to teach him some (language name) bc he thought it sounded cute <|3

and you’re like 🥹 yeah 🥹

but uh, he’s not a very patient student and gives up quickly 😭😭

but it’s okay!! he tried n also has a busy schedule so it’s understandable

nevertheless, he still adores when you speak your mother tongue

esp when you call him nicknames sigh

however our lovely boo kind of forgot how the written letters vary from spoken words

“what are you doing?” seugkwan hummed intrigued upon seeing you scribble something on paper. you looked up and met his soft gaze.

“oh, this? this is a crossword! korean ones are still too difficult for me so my friend sent me a couple of those in (language name)” you explained and tapped the paper with the tip of your pencil. he frowned, looking at the letters in brackets

“what the fuck” kwan grunted confused. not only he didn’t recognise some of the letters but it was also the fact that they were going vertically. you scoffed and let out a sudden gasp, filling in a new word. seungkwan watched you amused, how swiftly you wrote down the letters on paper “what is it?”

“it’s umm, a historical reference. a surname of one guy, you know” you hummed. seungkwan sat down next to you and watched you fill the crossword, occasionally translating the questions and words you put in while you explained what they meant and why were they the answer.

in no time this turned into a couple activity: sometimes like this, sometimes he did a korean one and you watched, sometimes you solved them at the same time - him in korean, you in your mother tongue

he learned a lot of words thanks to this

and he has the cutest accent ever like i swear 🥹

seungkwan loves watching soap operas too like he lives for the drama

often repeats (shouts) what the characters are shouting too LMAO

so you’re chilling and suddenly you hear “get out of my house! now!” with his accent

also watches movies n animations in (language name) to learn some new words

he knows all the disney songs in (language) and majority of them he knows by a heart <\3

so you just sometimes blast let it go or under the sea in (language name) and sing along >_<

┆彡 VERNON [ 버논 ]

this menace

he’s so chill about it

secretly loves when you accidentally sneak some words in your language it’s just so adorable

or when you forget a word and try to describe it… n then you give up and say it in (language name) just to see him smile <\\\\3

he decided that he’ll learn some random words??? like for example he just likes how umbrella sounds in (language name) so he just?? learned how to spell and say it

and uses it in random moments too like he’s so goofy <\3

you were casually chatting with his members, a raging discussion about whether mint chocolate ice cream is such a controversial topic in your country as well.

“i wouldn’t say so? people don’t… really care? a lot of people i know like it, actually! a bigger dispute would rather be some casual stuff like, do you sleep in socks or not… or which goes first: cereal or milk” you explained, looking at vernon. you could almost hear gears turning in his head, knowing what’s about to come

“toothpick” he said in (language name) suddenly, causing everyone to look at him confused. you started laughing at how serious he was when he said it; he started laughing too, it was simply contagious.

his friends looked at you completely flabbergasted, not sure what happened.

“i think they officially lost it” minghao mumbled, a smile creeping on his lips as you and vernon laughed like maniacs.

he always finds the most unfunny memes funny, like it could be even a meme from 2015 and he’d laugh

sends them to you too

and surprisingly?? he’s on track with the newest memes in your country like??

will know the most basic phrases too but sometimes mixes them

do you hand him a piece of orange bc he asked you to and then he goes “goodbye”

and you’re like?? 😭

but he tried okay?!

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

chan is super hyped about hearing you talk in (language name), it just amazes him how easily you switch between languages

but he never asked u to speak to him bc he didn’t want to feel you pressured or something

but whenever at home you just forget a word he loves when you say it in (language name) even if he doesn’t understand shit

or when you’re just so excited and into a convo and you don’t notice that you sneaked a few foreign words :”)

he always repeats them after you quietly ^_^

one day though, he’s just feeling soft and tired and his brain shut off

“y/n… can you say something in (language name)?” chan whispered suddenly, forcing his eyes to open and peek at you. you hummed, pushing some stray strands of hair that fell onto his forehead. laying on your sides but facing each other, chan noticed how your cheeks flushed pink.

“well… you’re not going to understand me anyways but… i love you. so, so much. i’m so grateful to have you in my life, you make me feel at ease. i can’t imagine my life without you…” you hummed and he noticed how your voice broke when you started the next sentence “and it hurts me to see when you put too much pressure on yourself, baby. you think you’re not good enough but to me, your members and your fans… and literally everyone else, you are. you so are, channie…”

he panicked once you teared up, fully awake. chan pulled you closer, calming you down

“i’m sorry” he mumbled, heart breaking at the sound of your sobs. you just scoffed, shaking your head

“don’t apologise, i just love you so much” you mumbled into his shirt and he swore he was about to melt.

i feel like deep down he knew what you meant <\3

anyways,,

if he hears about one (1) event even slightly connected with (country name) he’ll drag you there so you can feel at home for a moment (as if he’s not your home) and also translate some stuff for him

absolutely loves when you call him nicknames in your mother tongue, like

you could call him the goofiest and cheesiest nickname and he’s squealing like a teenage girl

but then he calls you the same or finds some new nicknames on the internet

sometimes to make you laugh or confuse he’ll put a sentence or a question to google translate and it’ll just… translate it so bad

“what do you mean ‘where’s the broccoli dog??’” you frown and he just laughs his ass off bc 1) it mistranslated OR 2) he purposely put some silly stuff to make you puzzled

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist.  @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang

[yuqiune]

Late Night Calls ☆

Summary: What I think talking to the members late at night is like

A/n: HADD to write this bc LNC is my absolute favorite song on the album, literally on replay since it came out 🍒

𖹭

Keeho:

I feel like keeho would prefer night face times over texting but he would be okay with anything for you. He would definitely send you pictures from tour and would call you after his lives, you would be watching and waiting for his contact to pop up on your phone. You two would catch up with each other and I feel like he would brag about any fan signs he saw for him, maybe to make you jealous.

Theo:

Now Theo, He seems like an early night sleeper, like around 9 or 10pm. If you spammed him enough, he might wake up enough to respond to you. He might be confused on why you would text him at 2 in the morning but you remind him of the time difference between you two. He would want to listen to you talk more than anything and he would answer your questions when asked. You two exchange quick selfies to each other before bed

Jiung:

Ji feels like the type of person to put weird filters over your face mid conversation and laugh his ass off. If you had a bad day that day, He'll listen to you and plan to do something with you when he comes back to you. Will do something embarrassing to get your mind off it (give me my money 😭). You'll talk about waterbomb and he'll get flustered by all your compliments but we'll show off If he finds you in the crowd. He'll flash his tattoo, get wet ON purpose, and Will act like nothing happened if you bring it up "Ji, you were slutty today" "Huh? What are you taking about?". Literally love him

Intak:

I stand by this when I say Intak 100% dances on your facetime calls. I can see him dancing to you cooking in the kitchen while he waits until he can talk to you directly. He probably talks to you in english to show you the new words he learned from keeho. When you bring up how much you miss him over tour, he'll probably pout and whine about missing you more, if not missing you more than you miss him and He can't wait to be in your arms again. he'll tell you "have a good one" before hanging up, making you confused and giggle at how cute he is

Soul:

Soul is the one calling you but you're doing the talking mostly, he'll respond with his little minecraft villager and alien noises unless you actually need an answer from him "did you feed the fish?" "Phews" "Soul baby-". He will show you little keychains or gifts he got that day and show you the matching set he got for both of you, S and Y on the items. Like intak, he probably dances randomly to anything in the background if you guys face time, which is a lot because you never know if he's actually there or not. I love my alien boy <3

Jongseob:

seob is always on that damn phone so what makes you think he wouldn't text or call you? I can see him on the phone with you while playing a game at the same time. You two probably just sit on the phone and enjoy the presence of each other, imagining actually being together and talking about anything that came to mind or to make sure the other was still there. If your phone automatically hangs out after a few hours, trust that you or that boy is RACING to call back as soon as possible

[casuallyanidiot]

The Beta Test | Chapter 3

[yandere M x Gn reader]

Local party animal and known social butterfly [name] wakes up to find that they've been abducted by their very reclusive and very wealthy classmate. Why, you might ask, did he do this? Well for one reason of course! He needs to know how he's going to talk to his crush! So now, with their freedom on the line, [name] has to figure out how to get this kid with the one of his dreams or risk never leaving at all. Lots of weird conversations ensue, of course.

1.8 k words Tw. Stalking, swearing, confinement, invasion of privacy, yandere Chapter 2 Table of Contents

“ Are you trying to starve yourself?” Javier kicked at the plate halfheartedly. His eyebrows were pushed up into a concerned expression.

 After a few more fucking hours, you had resorted to flopping around your cell in various states of boredom. Currently, your back was against the hard floor while your legs were straight up against the wall. All your limbs had gone numb and you were left feeling like they were made out of some atrocious energy drink that would’ve had a near-illegal amount of caffeine. Of course, you could barely understand what he was saying. It could have been all the blood rushing to your head, but it was probably more that you were literally five seconds away from going rabid with hunger. 

 “ No,” you said simply. It was a struggle to move, but you managed to roll over onto your side.

 “ Then why is all the food still here?” His voice was low and clear. From where you were on the ground, you could see the black leather bag that hung off one of his bony shoulders. It was slid off with a shrug and hit the ground with a threatening thud. You blinked slowly as you pressed your cheek into cold concrete. 

 “ I asked you for a fork but you didn’t give me one,” you answered with a weak shrug. His eyes widened in what you could only describe as a goofy manner as he shot his gaze down to his feet again. He became pretty flustered, shifting from foot to foot and crossing his hands behind his back. 

 “Oh…” He muttered out quietly. He turned away and began to fiddle with his bag, placing it on the table before pulling out various packets and folders. He refused to look at you now. You probably would’ve been more pissed if it weren’t for the fact that you were running on fumes. Not to mention, you were very thirsty and needed to pee. Like a lot. Some rummaging sounds came from him, but you weren’t exactly paying attention anymore. It wasn’t until you heard some faint clinking and his footsteps that you craned your stiff neck to look at what he was doing.

 “ Okay, um, so I’m gonna take you out now,” Javier spoke like he was unsure of himself, and for once you could see why because he was holding in his hands a pair of cuffs. 

 “ Uh what the hell is that,” you croaked out. 

 “ It’s handcuffs haha. You can see that right? Is your vision blurry? Maybe that medicine had a worse effect than I thought…” He was smiling at first, but his face soon morphed into one of worry. He rushed up to the bars and crouched slightly to better see you. 

 “ It was a figure of speech, man,” you lazily waved, and you watched as he slumped in relief. Wait- hold up. The thing about the drugs and all. Did he dope you up without knowing what it would do to you? Yikes, what a shitty thing to do. 

 “ Ah okay. Phew, alright, uh, I’m gonna get you out of here so you can use the um, bathroom and then I’ll get someone to bring you something so you can eat. After that we’ll get started.” he placed a bony, veiny hand over his chest like his heart was about to bust out like the kool aid man. All you could do was glare at him. Though it was hard to not perk up at the mention of another person. With the way he carried himself, it was very easy to forget that this guy was probably really well connected and (allegedly, though now you could say definitely) had a crazy amount of money. Anyways, considering all that stuff, it wasn’t illogical to assume that he had help with this fucked up plot he had hatched on you. 

But it wasn’t really a question if you could find someone else in… wherever you were, but rather if they would actually risk their job security and actually help you out here. 

 “ Uh okay, um, so I’m gonna go in there now. Just, um, stay where you are,” he said and pulled out his phone from his sweatpants. With a couple of harsh taps to the screen, a cool hiss came from one of the walls as a couple of the bars swung open like a little door seamlessly. Your mouth was wide open at this because why the hell would you not be absolutely floored by that amount of ridiculousness this man was subjecting you to. Javier entered your cell like it was the simplest thing in the world, and for once he seemed to actually take in your exaggerated expression. He glanced back at the contraption with confusion, and when he turned back to you, a smug little smile was plastered all over his face.

 “ Oh? This? I actually came up with the release and lock mechanism myself. It was actually pretty easy to figure out haha. Though, I don’t know if you would be able to say the same,” he explained as he stooped down to reach for your wrist. The cold metal bit into your skin as the band was clicked into place. He tugged at it for good measure before letting out a satisfied little huff. He was way too happy for you to feel anything but unease. Honestly, the nerve of him. 

 “ Okay, get up.” The chain from the cuffs was actually pretty long. Not that the fact made your situation any better, but it was kinda interesting. Or at least, it was interesting until Javier stuck the other one onto himself. You slumped your head back dramatically. Of course. Of course he would do that. Why would he not? After all, it was like it was his whole life’s mission to annoy you as much as he possibly could. When you didn’t immediately start pushing off the ground, you were nudged by his foot gently.

 “ Hey… uh come on.”

 “ My legs are asleep,” you explained dryly, not even bothering to look at him more. You weren’t lying. Over the course of the few minutes that he had been milling about in the room, your limbs had grown increasingly heavy and numb.

 “ Oh. Um, that’s alright. I can, I can help you.”

 His very chilly fingers grabbed onto your upper arm before he tried to jerk you up. Your legs came crashing down from the wall, and he seemed to be startled by this because he dropped your limp body back onto the floor. He let out a little gasp and covered his mouth with his hands as you groaned on the floor like a wounded soldier.

 “ What the hell man?” You groaned. You weakly rolled over and started to move your arms in an effort to finally get up. Using the wall as a guide, you managed to stumble up. You did all this with no help from Javier, of course.

" Okay! We're good now!" He said cheerily. You glowered at him a bit, but he didn’t notice and then started to pull you out of your cell. You tripped over your own feet, but the chain kept you moving forward. You stared at his back, shrouded and swamped in his large baggy shirt, and continued to keep your gaze steady when he would glance behind. 

You had met a ton of people over the years, and all of them were different in various ways. You had been acquainted with the most batshit, off the wall individuals in the world, but never had you seen someone so unwilling to actually listen to something else. This man was like a projector, and it seemed that he thought you were a blank canvas. Did he also view the girl he liked like this? Was she just some poor person who made the mistake of listening to his insane ramblings? What would he even ramble on about if he did? 

You blinked in surprise as the main door had been opened. Javier wordlessly led you through into a blank hallway all with other sets of doors. You curiously eyed the electronic pads stationed above the handles. He placed his hand on one, and it hummed before flashing green and beeping. He stepped back as it opened to reveal an all-white bathroom. 

“ Okay, here you go.”

“ Dude I am not going in with you.” Despite the fact that you were deadass tired, you still could muster the energy to wave your arm in a pissed-off manner. Javier just stood there like a deer in headlights. His eyebrows were pinched up in an almost frightened manner. Guess pissing was too far for even him.

So, you ended up doing your business with his back turned to you. As humiliating as it was, there was no denying that you had to go. Shame burned on your cheeks the whole way, and they continued to after you finished up and found yourself back in the room. Now you had been sat at the table directly across from him.  

The chain was laid limply on the flat surface; Your lips were pursed in a flat line as a plate was slid to you along with a pair of chopsticks. You shot him a nasty glare while he fidgeted. You gingerly held up the utensils and poked at the clumps of rice and vegetables. While you wanted to tear in so badly, you feared the large possibility that he had done something funky with it. Though, looking at it again, it wasn’t like you weren’t already deep in this hole, so you might as well chow down while you could. It was assumed that the meal had been brought by some phantom employee while the two of you had been in the restroom.

As you brought the food to your lips ( delicious, by the way. Almost worth getting kidnapped for), a manilla folder appeared right before your eyes. It held an ominous air around it. The bad vibes were so extremely potent that the wonderful bite you were working on turned into a flavorless lump. You swallowed hesitantly.

Javier didn't say anything. He was too wrapped up in fidgeting in his seat. His dark eyes slipped off into random corners of the space. Your brows furrowed as you took in his shifty form. Setting down the chopsticks, you reached for the small stack of papers. The ridges of the information inside pressed against the pad of your finger harshly, and you sucked in an uneasy breath. With a quick flip of the wrist, you were met with a photo of a smiling girl. Your palms instantly became sweaty; you looked up to see the nervous smile spread over his chapped lips. You steadied yourself with a long drawn out sigh as you brought the folder closer.

“ All right… Let’s get started.” 

Tag list <3 @crsdf4everr

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Cherry Pie Kiss

Slice Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: Out on the hunt, out of state and out of options; with your life on the line, Dean makes a call you're not happy with. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he brings a peace offering.

Haven't read Part One? - Catch up here.

Words: ~3.5k

A/N: This is part 2 of 3 of what started as a short one shot, but someone asked for another slice of pie so I'm here to deliver. There isn't any smut in this part (its all going to be in part 3 😂) but there are graphic depictions of gore, violence and death which is why I ask minors not to read or interact. Reader is female but generic, and obviously has feelings but is kind of stuck in this hate to love him type thing which carries on from part 1. I hope you enjoy the read and are ready for the goonfest and gratuitous smut coming in part 3.

Warnings: gore, death and gruesome depictions of canon-type violence, profanity as standard for my work, bit of angst, bit of fluff right at the end.

***Minor do not read or interact***

Dean Winchester.  You hate him.  His saviour complex, his unwavering strength, the way he’s so damn selfish though not in the ways that count… But boy, can he wear a pair of jeans.  Phew-ee!

You hate that you can’t stop looking at him, leaning on the jukebox of the bar you’re in, feeding it quarters in exchange for some feel-good tunes.  Ugh!  Asshole!

Tonight had been a tough night.  Even Sam was feeling the burn.  Out on the hunt, out of state and out of options, the three of you had played a Hail Mary and it had paid off.  Those damn vamps had just kept on coming.  Sam was down and you were in a bad way with what felt like a hoard of those fuckers piling into the abandoned factory to make a meal out of you all.  Starting out, you had all been so sure that you had this little group in the bag but, as per usual with these goddamn things, the plan didn’t pan out.

Dean had dragged you and a semi-conscious Sam into a tight space between the machines.  One way in, one way out.  You were both toast if you were found and of course you would be found; the vamps had your scent.

Groggily, you watched dean uncoil something from his pocket and string it across the opening at about neck height.

“Guitar string.”  He winked at you as if this idea was the best idea he had ever had and should have been plan A from the start.

“We’re fucking bait?”  You hissed furiously.  No, surely not?  Dean would never use his brother as bait.  Would he?  “Goddamn asshole!”  You snarled with as much vitriol you could muster between your gasping breaths and painful ribs.

He just gave you that weary look he had been wearing for the past hour and shrugged his shoulders before pulling out his machete and hiding himself out of sight.  “Get ready.”

You brandished your blade and hauled yourself to your feet, ready to fight.  There was no point wasting any more breath insulting him.  If you got out of this alive, you would have plenty of opportunity to call him all the names under the sun.  IF you got out alive.

The first vamps that found you came rushing in, right down the tight alley framed by the large machinery and with a sharp twang, Dean’s trap garrotted them straight through, taking their heads clean off.  Of the next three, the wire took the first two but the third approached cautiously despite you calling him to come get you.

Dean ran out from his hiding place and attacked the vamp from behind, slashing at the guy’s thick neck twice in order to cut all the way through.  As the body fell you saw why the vamp had stopped – the trap had remnants of flesh and blood along it from its previous victims making it easier to see.  You wiped your sleeve along it to clean the bits of hanging flesh off making it almost invisible again. Dean gave you an impressed nod.

Another two vamps fell to the wire but the last one got snagged as she fell, snapping it and making it useless.  Well, it was a good idea while it lasted, you thought.

It took you two a little while longer to attract the remaining few vamps who obviously knew something was up.  Sam was in no fit state, still groaning on the ground.  You were weak and in a lot of pain but you kept swinging your blade, struggling to breathe let alone stand.

The fight had been brutal and both you and Dean were covered in blood by the time it was over.  You were on your knees, slumped over a vamp you had had to hack into to remove the head, your blade surely blunt by now.  You were ready to close your eyes and give up when Dean pulled you to your feet.

“C’mon,” he said gruffly, “up and at’em.”  Helping you out over the pile of decapitated bodies, he hauled a now mostly conscious Sam through the mess.

You had made it to the Impala and, for once, Dean hadn’t grumbled about getting blood on Baby’s seats but throwing a couple blankets down instead.  Sam slumped in the front while you crawled in the back, weary and sore.  Your eyes met Dean’s in the rearview mirror but yours flicked away immediately, unable to look at him without getting angry.  When you looked back so did he, like he knew you’d be looking, and held on, asking if you were okay without actually asking.  If he really cared he wouldn’t have used you as bait.

You let your head fall back onto the seat and closed your eyes frustrated by his dichotomy.

After a while on the road, Dean turned the radio on, breaking the silence which opened the door for you to say what was on your mind.  Sam hadn’t been bothered one bit by the fact that Dean had used you both as bait, but you were furious.

“It worked, didn’t it?”  Dean snapped, frustrated by your anger.

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and a whole long list of other people.  Aint nothin’ new.”

Around five miles out of Crocker, Missouri, Dean pulled into a truck stop complex which had a convenience store, gas station, diner, a small motel and a dive bar.  The dawn was still hours away and the need for a couple of hours sleep in a comfortable bed was showing on all three of you.  Sam was the cleanest so he made the arrangements; two rooms because there was no way you were sharing a room with that asshole after what he did.  You were just as likely to fuck him out of anger as fight him at that point.

You used the showers in the truck stop to clean off all the blood and get into some clean clothes, relishing in the feel of the warm water and decent water pressure.  You felt a slight pang of guilt that someone would likely be picking vamp chunks out of the drain in the next couple of days but it passed quickly, it probably wasn’t the worst thing these truck stop attendants had seen over the years.

Refreshed by the shower and a take-out burger from the diner, you decided you needed a drink or five, which sounded good to Sam and Dean – you all deserved it.

So, here you are, several drinks in, pounding another tequila shot, trying not to stare at Dean Winchester’s ass while Sam bids you goodnight and takes himself off to one of the two rooms you had paid for at the run-down motel on site.

It seems as if you’re not the only one with an eye for a firm ass in tight Wranglers; a scantily clad barfly sidles up to Dean and strokes her hand down his back as he plugs his final song into the jukebox.  When her hand reaches that ass of his, he straightens and turns, grinning at her with that look you know means he’s going to ride her all the way to dawn.

You can’t watch this.  You don’t have the stomach for it, not tonight.  You pound your remaining two shots and eat the lime slice, peel and all.  Then you’re up off your stool and pushing past Dean and his lady friend, and out into the night where the air cools your heated skin but not your confusing emotions.

In the second of the two rooms, you look at your bruised face and neck in the mirror.  No wonder he didn’t look twice at you, you’re a mess.  It shouldn’t pain you like it does to think of him with another woman.  He asked once and you said no, so that is the end of that.  Plus, you hate him, can’t forget that.  Still, it gives you some small satisfaction that he now has no empty room to take his new friend to so he’ll have to bang her in Baby, on the bloody blankets.  With a spiteful smirk you flop on the bed and fall into a light disturbed sleep.

A loud knock on the door wakes you up with a start.  At first you don’t know where you are.  So used to your room in the bunker, you had almost forgotten what it feels like to sleep that first night in a new place, never truly resting for fear of attack.  It’s only an hour or so since you left the bar and you’re groggy from the tequila and from the waking.

You don’t turn on the lights when you go to the peephole, looking out with your pistol muzzle pushed up against the flimsy wood door.  Dean sways on the other side, his head turned as though he’s listening.

“Sam’s in the other room,” you call, clicking the safety back onto your pistol.

“I know,” he grumbles, “open up.  I got something.”

“It can wait until the morning.”

“Can’t wait,” it sounds muffled, “owwww!” he hisses.

“What the hell,” you sigh, sliding the chain and turning the handle.

Dean stumbles in with his mouth shaped like an “O” as he slides two bowls onto the unit next to the TV, shaking his hands afterwards as if burned.  You close the door and engage the chain out of habit.

“Got you something.”  He grins goofily, obviously much more drunk than you had left him in the bar, and you wonder what happened to the barfly.  Surely the womanizing Dean Winchester hadn’t banged and dropped her in that short a time?

“It’s two in the morning, Dean.”  You wipe a hand down your tired face, lifting your eyes again to see him handing you one of the bowls from the diner.

“Peace offering.”  He says with a smile as he pushes the hot ceramic into your hands, his eyes glistening with mirth and the effects of all the whiskey he shot back earlier.

You look at what he brought you and your heart almost stops.  It’s a steaming hot piece of cherry pie, drizzled in a large puddle of vanilla custard just the way you like it.  You look at his, with his tiny dollop of cream just the way he likes it, and you can’t help but smile.

“Why?”  You ask as you sit on the edge of the bed with him in the chair by the TV, the bowl in your hand, spoon loaded with goodness.

He finishes chewing a piece of the hot pie, sucking in air to cool it in his mouth before he replies.  “I know you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” you admit too quickly but the words are out now whether he believes them or not.

“And I know it’s my fault,” he looks at you with those eyes, “I shouldn’t have made things awkward from day one.  So, I’m sorry about that.”

“Thank you.”  You never thought you would ever hear Dean Winchester apologise, or what you would say in return.

“I didn’t know how to take the rejection,” he sighed heavily, “especially not from someone I have this amazing chemistry with, y’know?  But that’s on me.”

What great chemistry did Dean think he had with you?  All the years you had known him, you’d harboured a bit of a crush on him but he always acted like you were one of the guys.  When you two crossed paths it had felt effortless to slip into the old camaraderie but he treated you like a sister, a fellow hunter, until you had shown up on his radar this time covered in blood and all kinds of messed up and he’d gotten all pissed and… ohhhh.

“You were right all those years ago when you said hunters shouldn’t get close,” he continues, “I should’ve listened and never asked that question.”

You remember the conversation clearly.  It was something you had said because you thought it was what he wanted to hear from you.  Younger and more naïve, you had thought that what he wanted was for you to be like one of the guys so you had said the words and hoped that you could remain where you were with him, always close but never at risk of blowing everything.  Over time you had begun to regret that decision, and as soon as he started acting like an asshole it had been easy to trade the feelings you had for ones of resentment.

“I wish I never said it.  I didn’t realise what I would be losing when I asked.”   He looks at you again, beseechingly.  “Do you think we can start again?  Be friends like before?”

You think about it for a moment but the more you think the surer you are that you can’t go back.  You can’t know these things and have these experiences and go back to the beginning.

“No, Dean, I don’t think we can.”  Your words are soft but the devastation in his eyes is sharp and painful.

You stand, placing your untouched bowl on the bedside table, and walk towards him.  His bowl is empty now, but there’s a little piece of pie left on his spoon when you take it from him.  He’s confused but follows your every movement with a mixture of sadness and reverence.

The pie is sweet on your tongue and the way his eyebrows raise when your lips close around the spoon brings a cheeky glint to your eyes.  You sit on his knee, wrapping one arm around his shoulders while the other pulls the now clean spoon past your lips.  You swallow with a sigh.  His hands go to your hip and thigh to steady you as he looks up at you.

You dip your head slowly and he tilts up to meet you, his eyes flicking between yours and your mouth.  He tastes sweet just like you do when you lay your lips on his, a soft kiss that is both the testing of waters and the soothing of sharp emotions.  He squeezes your thigh tighter for a brief moment and you pull back to see the questioning look on his face.

“But you said…”

You shush him with a finger laid over his lips.  “I know what I said.”

“Then what did you mean?”  He swallows hard, licking his lips nervously afterwards as if you’re about to pull the rug out from under him.

“I wish I’d said yes.”

[brynnewithane]

Kaiju No. 8 Light Novel: Closely Observed! Unit 3 [Translate]

This is an UNOFFICIAL TRANSLATION of the Light Novel Kaiju No. 8. The translation and proofreading were done by me. Since my bias is Hoshina, I only plan to translate his story.

Hoshina's chapter is split into six parts. The following post includes my translation of parts 1 and 2.

***The translation that follows is not translated from the original Japanese, but rather from Vietnamese to English. Since this is my first attempt translating literature and English is not my first language, if there are any parts that seem unnatural or out-of-place please feel free to point them out. I’m open for feedback!👾 ***There are some segments that I've referenced from the translation of Kaiju No. 8: B-Side posted on the Mangaplus website. ***Word count: 2725

Chapter 3: Vice-captain Soshiro Hoshina

[PART 1/6]

“Phew, alright…”

With a soft thud, Hoshina set the stack of papers down on the table and took a deep breath. In his hand was the report on Kikoru’s match from the day before. He was evaluating it, through the lens of a vice-captain.

“Who would’ve thought it’d take this long, huh.”

Finishing off the last sip of his now-cold coffee, Hoshina made his way out of the room. Although work hours were over, he still had other plans await. As he strode down the corridor, he spotted the Metro TV crew heading towards him.

“Director! How’s the filming coming along?

The director nodded in return, “It went pretty well, everyone has been very cooperative after all. Mr. Hoshina, would you mind if we get a few words from you?”

“Me? But I’ve already been around the block though.”

“Ha ha ha. No, I just wanted to ask about the rookies. All of the officers this year are really something. The performance that Officer Shinomiya did yesterday was truly remarkable.”

“Well, that’s ‘cause the West Tokyo entry exam was way tougher this year, probably the hardest we’ve ever had. Plus, there were way more standout talents than usual this time around."

“I see. But now I’m more curious.”

“Curious ‘bout what?”

“It’s about Officer Kafka Hibino. Compared to the others, his basic physical strength seems pretty lacking. Would you mind telling us why he’s accepted to the Defense Force?”

The director couldn't help but wonder; it was no surprise at all. For days Kafka had shown no significant improvement to the crew. Whether it was marksmanship or obstacle courses, he consistently ranked last.

“Of course, we don’t just recruit folks based on combat abilities, y’know? We take a lot of other factors into account too. One of the reasons we accepted Kafka Hibino is…

“Is…?”

“Comic relief!” Hoshina smirked.

“C, comic relief, sir?” Hearing such a response, the director’s eyes widened.

“Novelty, y’know? He’s entertaining does he not? The impulsiveness and silliness and all. I’ve never seen anyone with an unleashed combat power of 0% before, and despite being physically weak, he’s bursting with energy. Not to mention he’s completely oblivious to his true potential, so he kept ended up running around like a headless chicken on the field.”

“T, That’s quite the harsh evaluation…”

“But I don’t dislike dummies like him.”

“And why is that?”

“Back in the day…” Hoshina scratched his cheek. "I met someone who was just like that. This idiot was constantly told to give up on bein’ a member of the Defense Force, yet he just kept throwin’ himself into it, no matter what.”

“So there really was a recruit like that? What’s that officer doing now?”

“Beats me. He’s likely assigned to some other unit.” Hoshina flashed a brief smile as he started to walk off. “Oh right, I’m about to hold a private training session at the dojo. The rookies will be there too, you could drop by if you’re interested.”

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

“Yaaaah!”

The soldiers’ exhort resonated throughout the wooden dojo. Apart from the outdoor training area, the Defense Force base also featured an indoor training room. Many officers would come here to train after dinner.

“My, my... It’s so crowded even during break time.” The director mumbled in admiration.

“This year’s rookies are really proactive.”

Hoshina was scanning around the dojo when he saw two individuals, both wearing armour(1), fighting intensely near the entrance. One of them caught an opening and leaped forward, swinging his bamboo sword(2) and striking his opponent. The victor removed his mask, revealing none other than Haruichi Izumo.

“Not bad Reno. Have you done kendo before?”

“I picked up a bit during middle school… But I couldn’t see that last strike of yours coming at all.” Reno, Haruichi’s opponent, also lifted off his mask and let out a sigh.

“Nah, you almost had me there too, man.” Haruichi smiled gently.

Nearby, a match took place between two individuals with distinctly different builds. One was a kendo expert senior, yet he was outmatched by his bulkier opponent who launched many heavy knocks from overhead.

“Woah that officer is really impressive. Is he a rookie too?”

“Maybe it’s hard for you to tell with a mask on like that, but it’s ‘she,’ not ‘he’, and yes she’s a rookie, her name is Hakua Igarashi.” Hoshina shook his head and replied to the director.

“Igarashi… Oh, is she the younger sister of Officer Jura from the Second Division?”

Igarashi Hakua is a promising rookie and Kikoru’s close friend.

As Hoshina looked around, a male officer approached. This young man had a muscular physique, piercing eyes, and tanned skin. He’s Aoi Kaguragi, a former member of Japan Ground Self-Defense Force.

“Vice-captain Hoshina, would you mind having a sparring match with me?”

“Sure thing, let’s have a match.”

Once clad in his armour, Hoshina got into a ready stance, facing Aoi. As the referee signalled to start the match, a palpable tension filled the air. Others instinctively paused, as their attention was drawn to the two of them as well.

The fight began with two swords sharply clashing. Attacking first was Aoi.

“Ha-yaaa!” Aoi shouted as he charged forward, instantly closing the gap. He moved with a speed that left amateurs struggling to keep pace.

Hoshina skillfully parried with his bamboo sword and countered back. Aoi’s attack was neutralised. The two returned to a standoff, maintaining their distance once again.

Hoshina took the initiative this time. In response, Aoi swung his sword, attempting to strike first. Seizing the opportunity, Hoshina deftly flicked Aoi's sword upward, breaching his defence. A loud “thud” rang out as Hoshina landed a perfect hit onto Aoi’s mask.

“Men strike! (3)” (Face hit)

The referee’s voice rang out. The two exchanged bows at each other as the match ended. Once their mask was removed, Aoi’s face was glistening with sweat, in stark contrast to Hoshina, who remained calm and composed.

“Thank you, sir… I will strive to improve even more.” Aoi said, earnestly bowing his head.

“Nah, you did great! You’ve got some serious talent, y’know.” Hoshina complimented. Aoi was a rising star in the Ground Self-Defense Force, with relatively good kendo skills; he could even be ranked among the top in the Third Division.

(The rookies this year sure are outstanding.)

Applause sprang out as people enjoyed the duel between two formidable figures. Meanwhile, at the dojo entrance, an entirely different kind of match was unfolding.

“Heeeyaaah!!”

A man stumbled forward, ferociously swinging his bamboo sword. His wide, sweeping motions were all over the place, making it easy for his opponent to dodge, counter, and raise his sword high before slamming it down with force.

“Gack!!??”

The hit landed with such power that the mask seemed as though it was about to shatter. The man dropped to one knee on the floor.

“Sure-kill attack: Iharu Blade! How’d you like the power of my strike, old man!?”

“W, why you! Take it easy on me, won’t ya!?” Kafka stood up, removing his mask.

“That was me going easy. Seriously, why are you so ‘green,’ old man?” Iharu tilted his head.

“Well duh, I’ve never practised kendo once in my entire life. So, everyone else has, even Ichikawa huh… I guess all the Defense Force recruits are pros at this stuff…”

“Since you have zero experience in kendo, I assume you chose judo instead, yes?” Reno approached, striking up a conversation with Kafka.

“Hm? Nope, I don’t know judo either.”

“Huh? You weren’t required to take any martial arts class?”

“What martial arts?”

“Didn’t they require you to take either judo or kendo in middle school?”

“What’re you talking about?”

As the conversation drifted off course, Hoshina tucked his mask under his arm and walked toward them.

“Martial arts were made mandatory after the curriculum reform, which is why y’see nearly all of our rookies this year have some sort of experience—except you, Kafka.

“What, is that how it is!? Grk, even this has a generation gap!” Kafka stood up abruptly, clenching his fists. “Damn it, that means I need to train way harder. Vice-captain Hoshina, could you please instruct me as well? Let’s have a match!”

“Vice-captain, could I request the same for myself?”

“Hey Reno! Tryin’ to one-up me, aren’t ya!? Count me in too, sir!”

“Iharu, that wasn’t my intention.”

Seeing the rookies got all excited, Hoshina nodded, “Alright then. I’ll take y’all on—line up!”

A sharp "Thwack!" echoed through the air.

“Gack!”

A sharp "Thwack!" echoed through the air.

“Gurk!”

A sharp "Thwack!" echoed through the air.

“Agh!”

“All righty practice over. Y’all need to work on your basic skills.”

Upon the dojo floor, three members of Kafka lay scattered, their skill levels markedly inferior to Hoshina’s. After a lengthy observation of the scene, the director made his way toward them.

“Impressive! It’s clear that no one can even come close to your skill with the blade, sir. I wouldn’t expect anything less from someone hailing from one of the most renowned kaiju-slaying families in Kansai. Speaking of which, when you first enlisted, you weren’t here, were you? You were in Kansai, right sir?”

“Yeah, I got promoted by Captain Ashiro and transferred here.”

“I see! You must have been making a name for yourself since your early days then.”

“... That’s not the case at all.” Hoshina chuckled, looking a bit flustered.

This hesitancy of his somewhat confused the director.

“Vice-captain Hoshina.”

Hoshina shifted his attention when he heard a voice ring behind him. Kikoru stood there in her armour, her stern gaze peering through the mask.

“May I spar with you next, sir?”

“... ‘course.”

Raising her sword, Kikoru formed a ready stance. Judging by her form, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that her kendo technique was exceptionally polished. One could confidently assert that her skill was on par with Aoi’s.

(She's skilled in both firearms and swordplay. Truly astounding—a complete contrast from me.)

As Hoshina gazed at the rookies before him, memories of his own early days came flooding back—days before he joined the Third Division.

❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅••❅───✧❅

*NOTE:

(1) Here, they are wearing a type of protective gear specifically used in kendo known as bōgu (防具) or kendōgu (剣道具). Since I saw most Western websites tend to use the terms “bogu” or “kendo armour,” I decided to simply use the word “armour” here for a smoother reading.

(2) Similar to that, I’ve chosen to use the “bamboo sword” here to make it easier to understand even though the proper term for it is shinai (竹刀).

(3) Men strike (面打ち) in Kendo is one of the most fundamental and commonly used attacks aimed at the opponent’s head. Other primary strikes include kote (wrist), dō (torso), and tsuki (throat thrust).

❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅••❅───✧❅

[PART 2/6]

Hoshina was usually stationed in Kansai. However, on that day, he travelled to Tokyo for a meeting about a friendly kendo match with the Third Division, which was set to occur in a month. The kendo instructor of the Third Division was someone his father greatly respected, and a figure Hoshina had known since childhood.

“Sir, I’m glad to see you’re still doing well.”

“Not at all! I’m not as sharp as I used to be nowadays. I’ve been planning on stepping down as an instructor soon. So what do you say, Soshiro? Do you want to come and carry on my work?”

“Ha ha ha, I’ll consider it, sir.” Hoshina chuckled, quickly changing the subject.

Hoshina had received countless recommendations to become an instructor. Everyone in the Defense Force recognised his exceptional swordsmanship, yet they all believed it wasn’t suitable for practical combat. His father, superiors—everyone urged him to take on the role of a kendo instructor, suggesting he withdraw from the battlefield. Despite this, he still longed to remain on the front lines.

(I’m well aware… that my desires are selfish and stubborn.)

The meeting ended, and just as Hoshina was about to leave, he received a call from the general affairs office, informing him that the captain of the Third Division wanted to see him in the office.

(The captain? Wants to meet me?)

Even though Hoshina was completely perplexed, he had no choice but to go. Anxiously, he knocked on the captain’s office door.

“Come in,” a calm female voice replied.

As he opened the door and stepped inside, Hoshina was greeted by the sight of a young woman seated at the desk. It was Mina Ashiro, who had become the captain of the Third Division at a remarkably young age. The two were not far apart in age. He had seen her before, during the joint training sessions, but this was their first opportunity to talk directly.

“I apologize for interrupting you during your busy schedule. Soshiro Hoshina, at your service, ma’am.” Hoshina straightened his back and saluted to the captain.

“Third Division Captain, Mina Ashiro. I appreciate you stopping by.”

“Happy to do it, I have time to spare after all. I was planning to take a look around Tokyo for a bit before returning to base. Now then, what was it that you need me for, Captain?”

Ashiro turned her back, her gaze drifting toward the sombre sky beyond the window. 

“I’ve seen you in joint training before. Even from a distance, I can tell that your swordsmanship is exceptional.”

“Oh, thank you captain…”

(Why is she bringing that up all of a sudden?)

Hoshina couldn’t help but feel sceptical.

“Soshiro Hoshina, I heard that you’re a sword specialist.”

“Yes, that is correct.”

Hoshina could already sense what Ashiro was about to say. He let out a small sigh.

(Here it comes. She’s definitely going to tell me to give it up…)

The Third Division was in dire need of a new sword instructor during this time. It seemed that Ashiro would soon suggest that he leave the front lines and take on that role.

“I need your abilities. Will you join my force, Hoshina?” Ashiro said as she gently turned back to face him.

The gloomy sky gradually dispersed, and shafts of sunlight entered the room. Her gleaming eyes gazed directly into Hoshina’s.

“Huh…?” Caught off guard by the unexpected proposal, Hoshina felt as though his mind had gone blank.

“We cannot overlook the possibility that more powerful miniatured-size kaiju might emerge in the future. Also, unlike you, I’m awful with bladed weaponry. I wouldn’t even want to pick up a kitchen knife.”

(Okay but isn’t kitchen knives are a complete different matter…)

“When I pierce through the enemies, will you clear a path for me?”

“...”

No one had ever spoken to Hoshina like that, not even his father. He felt his heart racing intensely, unable to suppress the thought that, just by serving under her, maybe…  

(No, stop…)

Hoshina took a breath and exhaled slowly. He quickly regained his composure, and his heartbeat returned to a steady rhythm.  

(Don’t take it seriously; it’s just lip service. If I accept the offer, I’ll only become a laughingstock.) 

Since they were being courteous, one ought to return their gesture. That’s just how things should be done.

“I am truly honoured, but…”

Right after that, the shrill wail of the alarm echoed through the hallway.

“Excuse me, captain!” The door swung open as a bald officer rushed in. “We’ve received reports of a kaiju attack in Oume City. Miniature class, but there are large numbers of them, and over a dozen civilians were reported dead. About the details...”

Listening to the report, Ashiro nodded. “Understood. Ebina, rally the entire team, including those off-duty.”

“Roger!” Ebina responded promptly to the order. “Man, we’re still in the middle of restructuring the division and issues just kept cropping up.”

“We’re againsting the kaiju, they wouldn’t care less about our situation.”

Ashiro picked up the phone from the table and quickly issued orders. However, as she had just recently been promoted to captain, the chain of command was still in disarray. If they were to engage Kaiju, her unit would probably face a severe troop shortage. That was why she could stolidly make such a proposal.

“Captain Ashiro, I could head to the site as well if you will.”

“Wha!? You’re the guy who’s here for a business trip, right? You’re from a different division is it not?” Ebina frowned.

“I carried my suit and weapons. I can at least help with disposing of the yoju.”

“Yeah, but even so…”

Ashiro cut Ebina off. “Hoshina, as the captain of the Third Division, I’m asking for your aid. I’ll make sure to run it by your division as well.”

“Captain, are you sure about this!?” Ebina raised his voice. “Based on the kaiju’s estimated fortitude, this operation is going to be extremely dangerous.”

“He’s a close-combat specialist; he can definitely be able to help us a great deal. Isn’t that right, Hoshina?”

"Right." Hoshina nodded. "I'm the best there is when it comes to neutralising miniature kaiju."

────────────────────────────────────────────────

[distressxox]

DARLINGGGGG GUESS WHOS BACK FROM THE PYSCHE WARD!!

im currently brainrotting over agito as you can see..can you write how you think he would meet reader and how their relationship would develop into romance with him? like actually i sat at work for like 15 minutes trying to think how but i actually cannot cook anything up.

(Also I'm seeing the ghost stuff and I'm interested...gonna have to do research for dis one☝️)

sorry if i keep sending you silly asks😞

—🪡 anon

JOIN US WE HAVE SEXY POPES WHO DOUBLE AS FRONTMEN AND FREAKY GHOULS. Listen to them, I highly recommend listening to the meliora and prequelle album before delving any deeper. Watch some YouTube videos abt the lore. PLUS THEY HAVE LITTLE EPISODES <3

Time for some more Cakemaster 9000

Phew, this took a while

Kanoh Agito: How does he fall for you?

• Like what I mentioned in one of the headcanons, you work for Katahara. While Agito doesn't directly work for him apart from beint his representative fighter, he's technically his family AND The Fang.

• However, you two hardly see eachother when on the job. BUT-

• You two visit the same coffee shop. He loves his morning Latte, and you love (insert your favorite Cafe drink here)

• When you first started working, you were surprised to see the Kanoh Agito at a small coffee shop.

• He usually greets and addresses you formally, not interested in any small talk.

• "Sheesh, what a stick in the mud" It's not that he was trying to be rude, but he did come off a little condescending when he greeted you. (He has tone issues)

• One day you woke up late and didn't have time to stop and get your usual.

• He notices your absence. "They can't be sick, they showed no signs of it two days ago"

• Long story short, he picks up your order and goes looking for you. Once he finds you, he stiffly hands it to you. "You were late I presume. I picked this up for you"

• Everyone in the room was shocked. The cold hearted Fang buying someone a drink? You smiled warmly and looked into his eyes "Thank you, this was very kind of you"

• His breathing hitched, and he felt speechless. Was he....flustered? "Don't let it happen again, you work for the Chairman afterall"

• You obviously didn't let it happen again....buuuttt it was super sweet how he seemed to care about you enough to get you something.

• To return the favor, you arrived earlier and got him his Latte. Listen, he was speechless before, now he was in shock. He didn't show it though. In his lifetime no one had ever bought him anything or returned a favor. There was a first time for everything.

• You saw through his attempt to hide the baffled expression on his face. It was kinda- cute.

• "Why have you done this?" "Why not? I'm just repaying you" "I-" "Shush, just take the drink, it's burning my hand"

• He has to get there before you now to ensure that he sees you. He's a bit friendlier with the greetings, too. Don't expect a smile though, just a softer glance in your direction.

• When he was around you, he didn't feel like he needed to be The Fang of Metsudo. You didn't hold him to any higher standard when you chatted, you didn't bother holding back a few curses. He felt as if his soul was on Earth instead of hanging in the balance.

• On one of your off days, the two of you get coffee and sit down for once. Finally having a slower paced discussion. It lasted a few hours, you did most of the talking while he had a response to almost anything. There was a lot he didn't know about pop culture.

• Coffee dates became your thing, even though it wasn't technically a date. More like two friends hanging out. Discussions got into deeper topics like pasts and whatnot.

• Agito decided that he could trust you, so he opened up about the Human Gu Ritual. He didn't know what trauma was, so you explained to him that his feelings and memories about that time in his life would be very traumatic.

• "I'm glad you could tell me that, but are you okay? If I had something like that on my chest I'd cry" "I'm quite alright, I'm not fazed in the slightest but I had no idea the caliber of the topic. I hope I didn't ruin the conversation"

• You tapped your cheek and sighed. "Have you ever been hugged before?" Agito thought for a second. The embracing gesture? The only physical contact he's hand was a pat on the shoulder or when he's fighting.

• "No, I don't think I have" "Well today's your lucky day, bring it in"

• He froze as you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into you. His heartbeat raced as he thought of what to do. "Just tell me if you don't like it" you squeezed him gently. He awkwardly put his hand behind your back and rested it there.

• You let go after a few seconds, but he didn't want you to. "How was it?" You smiled.

• "I'm not sure" He smoothed out his suit, trying to relax himself after what just happened.

• A few days passed and you haven't seen him anywhere. He wasn't at work or at the coffee shop. You start to worry. Did you drive him away? Was the hug too much? Oh god was he dead?

• All the while Agito was keeping an eye on you from afar. Not letting you see him, but he could see you. He felt very fragile after that day, he almost felt ashamed. He wasn't good at managing his emotions. And what happened moved him in a way that frightened him.

• He summons the courage to talk to Katahara Metsudo about how he felt. He was the only parental figure he had in a sense.

• "You are a grown man. Is this really a difficult concept to grasp?" Katahara looked out the window of his office. "I'm inexperienced, these feelings are foreign to me"

• 'He's not referring to himself as we and us anymore, this must be serious' Katahara turned around. "To put it simply" he laughed "Tell (Reader) everything you told me"

• "I have a strong regard for you" Agito came clean. You know how I said there was a first time for everything? Well he had a hint of red on his cheeks. This beast of a man, blushing? Utterly adorable

• "So you're saying you love me?" That's the word. Love. He nodded. "Well. Say it then. There's nothing holding you back"

• He pauses for a moment, he's not exactly fond of eye contact. But this was for (Reader)

• "I love you"

• You wrap your arms around his waist again. "That's all I needed to hear"

• His lips curled into a smile as he looked down at you. You parted from the hug and tilted your head to the side. "Wanna go out to a restaurant sometime?"

• "Are you asking me out on...what is it that they call it...a date?" "Yes" you stated bluntly. Beating around the bush or teasing wouldn't get far in this situation.

• "We can talk about plans later, I have important matters to attend to" he look your hand and grazed his lips on you knuckles. Planting a small kiss on it.

• "Now where did you learn that?" "It's a romantic gesture they do on television" you bite your lip from calling him a dork.

• "I'll meet with you later about this date. Until we see eachother again" He leaves, and you're alone again.

• Man, you're already falling for him. It's not like you'd hate dating him. But you didn't want to be head over heels just yet. You looked at your knuckles and sighed "Ah what the hell, being love isn't that bad"