#HOW. how did it never click with me until now?

[yosuk-e]

i find comfort in you; ft. tsukishima

in which the reader finds him dejected after a lost practice match.

a/n: for the request i got today! had a super sudden burst of motivation to write (instead of reviewing for exams yayyy......) so i hope you enjoy this. also, i'm aware this might be a bit ooc for tsukishima, whoops. i was planning for a bokuto & kenma version of this prompt too, so let me know if you'd like that.

tsukishima

kei was never one to sulk about volleyball. you'd known that since he made it painfully clear that no, he does not care about this sport, because it's just a club. a just because, and that it was never going to be anything more than that. he'd been that way about it with basically everything for as long as you two had known each other, and you sometimes wondered whether he genuinely enjoyed anything thoroughly at all, except for maybe you and dino-shaped chicken nuggets.

tonight was different, though.

tonight, tsukishima didn't greet anybody, other than a muffled "i'm home." tonight, kei went straight to his room, in a flurry of frustration both at the fact that they had in fact lost that practice game they were working tirelessly for, but also at the fact that he even cared so much, especially after the many times that he's asserted he doesn't. on an even more concerning note, he's entirely ignored you. left you no message, gave you no call. all which left you with a growing pit of anxiety at the ring background you desperately hoped would illuminate your phone screen, "any moment now..."

6:37PM. you hummed in annoyance at the number. why is it taking him so long to call? is he busy? did something happen? you take a deep breath in an attempt to collect yourself.

ding! you scramble to your bed where you've left your phone to charge.

three new messages - kei

you hurry to read the messages in a rush.

left displeased with the interaction with your boyfriend, you huff. it wasn't abnormal for you and tsukishima to fight. arguing was sort of your love language, even. this was just odd. not an explanation, just a shutdown.

you make up your mind and rush to get dressed. there is no way he's this upset and you can't comfort him about it. you weren't going to let him grow distant when he needs you most, so you dash over to his house, in as little time as possible.

7:23PM. you make it there, standing awkwardly at the door of his room, a pit growing in you. are you overstepping? maybe he just needed some alone time, and you're acting like a pushover? what if-

creak. the door opens, and you're greeted with wide eyes and a soft voice. "yn?" you gulp. how stupid is it that you've been silently standing here for 2 minutes? "uhh... have you just been standing?" tsukishima says, with some slight, but noticeable judgement in his voice. "yeah..."

a smile (so very slightly) appears on his face, as he pulls on your arm gently to let you in the room, his door shutting with a soft click. and you both stare, awkwardly, until you finally begin, "look, i know you wanted to be left alone, but-"

but nothing, because in that same moment, the near 190cm giant you were standing next to leans over, and rests his head on your shoulder, his arms wrapped tight around you, leaving no space for movement. "i'm sorry."

"you're sorry? no, kei it's-"

"we lost the game. it was shitty. i'm mad, and i don't want to be. i want to not feel like i cared about this so much, because, well, fuck. it's just a club. it's supposed to be just a club." tsukishima holds you close, in his strong, unrelenting grasp making you feel at home. "we all put a lot of work into it. i put a lot of work into it. shit. it's whatever."

your arms free themselves from his grip gently, making their way to his hair, playing with the soft, blonde strands. "kei..."

"-and it's fucking, damn it. nothing. it was nothing."

you hum encouragingly. tsukishima might've not been the most social, the most outgoing, or the best with words. but for now, for this moment, it was enough.

your hands cup his face to kiss his forehead lightly, and press it against yours, softly saying, "it's okay. you can always tell me."

your evening is filled with rants, rambles, and complaints, but you wouldn't wish for it to be any other way.

a/n: i did NOT proofread this so if you see anything wrong hush.....

[yungistiny]

All Of You

[ S. Mingi ]

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summary: in which your best friend helps you through your heat

warning: biting, knotting, possessive mingi, best friends to lovers, unprotected sex

pairing: alpha mingi x omega afab reader

word count: 1.4k

masterlist

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It started in the middle of the day.

A small ache low in your belly, just enough to make you pause at your desk. You’d brushed it off. You’d been managing your heats well for over a year, with well-timed suppressants and carefully curated distractions. It wasn’t supposed to hit yet, not for another week.

But by the time you stepped off the bus and climbed the stairs to your shared apartment with your best friend Mingi, your skin was on fire.

You fumbled with your keys, biting your lip to muffle the shaky exhale that escaped. Your thighs pressed together, your scent already turning sharp, sweet, needy. You prayed he wouldn’t be home yet. You could bury yourself in your room, get to your nest, take something to dull it.

The door creaked open.

And he was there. On the couch, hoodie draped over his massive frame, hair tousled, eyes focused on the tv, until his head snapped up.

You froze.

He sniffed once. Twice. Then his jaw clenched.

“Y/N,” Mingi said slowly, voice dropping. Realization hitting him fast. “You’re in heat.”

You tried to keep it together. You even forced a wobbly smile. “It’s fine. Just early. I…. I’ve got it.”

But the tremble in your hands betrayed you.

He stood, the loose hoodie doing nothing to hide the way his muscles tensed under the fabric. “You’re not fine.”

“I just need to get to my room,” you whispered, backing up. “I’ll be okay.”

Your scent was blooming now, thick and warm, swirling through the space like temptation made real. Mingi’s nostrils flared. He didn’t move toward you, but his eyes darkened, pupils blown wide, and you knew every instinct in him was screaming to claim, to take.

“I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.” He said softly. He’s never been home during, always gave you space.

You stared at him for a beat too long. Then turned and rushed to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you with a soft click.

It didn’t help.

Your nest was already calling. You collapsed into it with a strangled whine, yanking off your jeans and hoodie, burying your face in the softest blanket you owned, the one that smelled like him. You hated how your body responded, how the fire in your core burned hotter every time you thought of his scent.

Outside your door, you heard footsteps.

A knock.

“I left water and one of my hoodies outside the door,” Mingi murmured. “I know you like mine more than your own.” He was teasing you, trying to lighten the mood.

“Thank you,” you managed.

Hours passed. The ache deepened into something unbearable. The slick between your thighs soaked through your sleep shorts. Your suppressants didn’t work. You tried everything, cool showers, distracting videos, rubbing out an orgasm that did nothing but leave you sobbing for more.

By the time you opened your door, your face was flushed and your knees shaky. Mingi was still awake, of course he was. Sitting at the kitchen table, jaw tight, hands clasped like he was praying, or trying to hold himself back.

You didn’t say a word.

You just stood there in your sleep shirt, scent flooding the apartment, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

And he was in front of you in seconds.

You walked into his chest, pressed your cheek against him, and let out a shuddering breath. “Please,” you whispered. “Please help me.”

Something in him snapped.

You barely registered being lifted into his arms, cradled against him like you weighed nothing. He carried you back to your nest, his scent pouring over you now, soothing, possessive, perfect.

He laid you down gently, and the moment his body hovered over yours, you arched into him like you were made for it.

“Are you sure?” he asked, lips brushing your jaw, his breath warm.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Mingi, I need you. I need your knot.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest.

Clothes vanished. His body was everywhere, lips trailing fire down your neck, his hands mapping every inch of you with reverence and hunger. He mouthed at your mating gland, then lower, until his tongue was lapping between your thighs and you were writhing beneath him.

“Mingi…. please…” you grasped at his hair, grinding yourself against him, against his tongue, needing more, so much more!

He kissed his way back up your body, and when he finally pressed into you, thick, hot and big, you cried out, clutching at his arms as he bottomed out slowly, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you.

“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned, forehead resting against yours. “So wet. I’ve dreamed of this. Of you.”

You clenched around him, desperate, needy, your hips meeting him thrust for thrust until the pleasure blurred into pure instinct.

And then he pulled back, only to slam back in, his pace turning feral.

You felt his knot swelling, pressing against your entrance with each thrust. You whimpered, legs wrapping around his waist.

“Alpha, please,” you begged. “Give it to me. Knot me…. please…. Mingi…”

He growled, snapping his hips forward one last time.

You screamed his name as his knot popped inside you, locking you together. He moaned, spilling into you with thick, hot pulses as your body milked him through your climax, slick and cum mixing deep inside.

You were still shaking when he collapsed over you, careful not to crush you, his mouth finding yours in a tender kiss that had no business being that soft.

You lay tangled in the soft mess of your nest, still filled and stretched around Mingi’s knot, your bodies locked together. His thumb stroked gentle circles into your hip as your breathing slowly leveled out, though your skin still buzzed from the aftermath.

But underneath that warmth, the bond tugged at you. Unfulfilled. Incomplete.

“I should clean you up,” he murmured eventually, lips brushing your temple.

You nodded sleepily. “Only if you come with me.”

He chuckled low, then gently helped you to your feet, supporting your shaky legs with one arm around your waist. The walk to the bathroom was a blur, Mingi guiding you, you clinging to his chest, the heat between your legs still aching in the best way.

The second the warm water hit your bodies, you melted against him.

He stood behind you, arms wrapped around your middle, letting the water cascade over your flushed skin as he kissed your shoulder, your neck, the back of your ear.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered. “Not while you’re still sensitive.”

“You’re not hurting me,” you whispered back, arching into him, your body already waking up again. “I want more.”

He groaned, hips brushing yours, and you felt his dick hardening again against your ass.

You turned around, kissed him deeply, tongues tangling as the steam rose around you. “I want to feel it again,” you whispered against his lips. “All of you.”

“You have me,” he said. “You’ve always had me.”

Your hand slid up to his chest, resting just over his pounding heart. “I want you to claim me, Mingi.”

He stilled.

Then his eyes darkened to pure hunger, his voice low and rough. “Say it again.”

You swallowed, breath hitching. “Claim me. Bite me. Make me yours.”

That was all it took.

He slammed you back gently against the shower wall, water pouring between your bodies as he sank into you in one smooth, devastating thrust. You gasped, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively, your nails digging into his wet skin.

The way he moved was different now, possessive, like every thrust was a promise, like he was already staking his claim.

“Mine,” he growled, thrusts deep and hard. “You’re mine, Omega. No one else gets to have you.”

“Yours,” you moaned, head thrown back, baring your throat. “I’m yours, please…”

His teeth grazed your mating gland.

Then he bit down.

The sharp sting was drowned out by the blinding rush of heat, your body clenching violently around him as your orgasm tore through you. You screamed his name, slick coating his length as he held you tighter than ever.

His knot swelled again, locking you together as he filled you a second time, moaning into your neck, tongue soothing over the fresh mark now sealing you to him forever.

Panting, still trembling, you clung to him. And he kissed you like he’d waited his whole life to do it right.

“You’re mine,” he whispered again. “Best friend or not. You always were.”

You smiled, dizzy and full of him in every way.

“And you’re mine,” you whispered back. “Alpha.”

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permanent tag list: @straycat420 @autieofthevalley @dejatiny @hannahlilibet411 @xh01bri @jintastic-yuyu @maddycline @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @wooyoungsbrat @lucid-galaxys-world @ecriggs1990

[shuenkio]

⾕ Warming me love - 심재윤

Paring: Older!Jake X M!reader

Synopsis: He can't even forgive himself for not giving you a goodbye kiss in the morning, now he beg for your forgiveness by something else.

Genre: Smut. Cw: cock warming, dirty talk, smau, 18+, big dick Jàke ;)

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

It’s probably just you who thought getting an older boyfriend would fix every issue in your life. You’re not exactly the romantic type, easily overwhelmed by noise, moody like the eldest sibling of a big family, and prone to withdrawing when things feel too much. So you figured—why not find someone who could handle you at your most difficult?

And then, like something out of a cheesy miracle, you met Jake.

He was everything you were quietly searching for. Older, patient, grounded. He had the kind of life you never imagined being part of—cars, a house, money, fame, and a job that most would kill for. It was obvious from the start: this wasn’t a casual thing. This was ride or die. Date to marry.

But all of that—the polished image—was only for the outside world.

Behind closed doors, Jake was a different person. Someone who needed to be cared for. Someone who craved affection like air, needy in the way toddlers are—but worse. As soon as he stepped through the door, stress from work still clinging to him like a second skin, he would come find you. He needed cuddles to fall asleep, soft touches in his hair, someone to baby him through the exhaustion. Most of the time, it wasn’t even about the gestures. Your presence alone was everything to him. You were his calm. His home. The reason he remembered how to breathe.

Even if you didn’t speak, just holding him against your chest, letting his cheek rest against your skin, was enough to make him melt. To satisfy that part of him that no amount of success ever could.

That night, the sky was still cloudy from the day’s overcast, now turning into a quiet, rainy evening. You stayed home, waiting, kind of worried he’d be soaked by the time he got in.

Eventually, the front door clicked open.

And there he was—Jake.

As usual, you greeted him. Asked about his day. Whether he’d eaten. But he didn’t answer. Your brow furrowed immediately. Was something wrong at work? Did you say something? You tried again, but he just stared, silent.

You were about to ask one more time—until he cut you off.

“Do you know how insanely crazy I went today when I realized I forgot to give you a goodbye kiss this morning?”

“…I beg your pardon?” That… didn’t sound right.

“I’m sorry, my love. I wasn’t a good boy today. But can I still have your cuddle? Please? Pwes?”

And just like that, the illusion shattered. It wasn’t about age—it never was. It was about energy, mental space. You sighed in disbelief, eyeing your boyfriend with a flat look as he stood there looking like a guilty puppy.

“Please, baby? Tell me yes,” he whined softly, pulling you closer. “I’ll be a good boy for you. I’ll let you use my cock however you want—just let me touch you. Let me hear your voice.”

“But babe, you touch me every single day. Like… seven days a week, 24 hours a day. Aren’t you ever tired?” you asked, arms folded as you sat together on the couch-bed hybrid, unimpressed.

“Well, yes…” he mumbled. “But who can resist a boyfriend like you? If I could ruin you for anyone else—” He suddenly cut himself off, slapping a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. The shame hit him instantly. His lips had gotten ahead of his brain again.

You didn’t flinch. You just stared, unimpressed by his dramatics. Still, he pushed on.

“I swear, please, trust me—I'm gonna be a good boy this time. You want something back? My cock is yours. Toy with it, abuse it, play with it—I don’t care. Just let me touch you, pwease, M/N.”

And there he went again. Dramatic. Desperate. Fake tears and everything. He grabbed your hand and pressed it to his chest, then trailed it downward to where his cock strained under his sweats—rock hard and twitching with need. He kept shifting, unable to bear the pressure.

You sighed again, zoning out for a second, thinking if there was any compromise that didn’t involve you being dragged into his chaotic energy entirely.

That’s when Jake—impatient, fidgety, and horny—suddenly came up with an idea.

“How about this… love… just cockwarming?” he asked hopefully. “I know I don’t deserve to fuck you today, but cockwarming? Say yes, M/N. It’s the only thing I’ll ask for tonight.”

It was an unusual dynamic. The “top” begging the “bottom” for mercy. But here you were. Jake’s hands clapped together in prayer, face desperate, looking more golden retriever than grown man.

You considered for a moment, then sighed, nodding.

Jake didn’t waste a second. His lips crashed against yours, tender and grateful, while his hands roamed your body, peeling away layers with eager urgency. He stripped himself next, yanking off his pants and underwear in one swift move. His cock sprang out—thick, veiny, flushed pink and twitching. The musky scent filled the air, heavy with need, and you could tell how badly he wanted it just by the way it curved, desperate and leaking.

Nine solid inches, crying for you.

“That’s what you do to me, love,” he whispered, voice breathy. “My dick hurts so much… Can I do it?”

You nodded, a small smile on your lips. He pulled you closer again and lay down, the rain falling softly against the window outside. Jake held his cock in one hand, spreading your cheeks with the other before slowly pushing inside. Inch by inch, the warmth of your tightness swallowed him up. He let out a broken moan.

“God, this hole…” he choked, voice shaking. “I fucking love you, M/N. You don’t get it—”

Tears welled in his eyes—not real ones, probably, but the feeling was raw. His cock twitched, nestled deep inside, unmoving, just like you’d agreed. The heat, the pressure, the overwhelming feeling of being one—it made him delirious.

You stared out the window, biting down a quiet moan, the cozy light of the room wrapping around you like a blanket. A visible bulge marked where he sat inside you, unmoving but entirely present.

“I know I don’t say it enough,” Jake whispered, breath shaky, “but… I’m dying without you. I need to feel you. I need to hear your moans—fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Cockwarming… hmm,” you said thoughtfully. “Feels kinda nice. We should do this more.”

“Love, do you hear yourself? Fuck—stop, that’s my kink—please, I love you so much—”

“Oh, shut up. You’re being ridiculous,” you mumbled, cheeks hot. “I love you. And your… cock.”

“Yes. Yes. That’s all I ask. Love me. And love my cock.”

Jake chuckled against your ear, his lips grazing your skin. He nuzzled into your neck, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before wrapping his arms tighter around you. His cock nestled deeper, hitting a sweet curve inside you without thrusting, and he sighed like it was the first deep breath he’d had all day.

“All mine. My love. Mine.”

A/n: I just randomly added Jake was 9 inches— anyway happy 1 year anniversary to this Tumblr account, I didn't even know until Tumblr remind me just today (even tho I started to posted on 1st May 2024) and happy 837 followers to all m!reader enthusiastic y'all are my motivation 😝 shout out to my ride or die mutual, you're my everything A. and sorry for being busy these week🫠

[mullermilkshake]

I’ll look after you, second

Part 4 <- Part 5 -> Part 6

Things are tense, but you come up with a solution.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader Tags - Smut, Car sex, Vaginal Sex, p in v sex, quickie, unprotected sex, creampie, trying for a baby, breeding, possessive thoughts, mentions of infertility, strained pressure in a relationship, Jinwoo just wants a family with you

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

Jinwoo never got a chance to fuck you before the association dinner, you trudged off towards the bedroom and slammed the door shut for a whole hour before emerging in a dress that took his breath away.

It was evident that you’d been crying and for the first time, Jinwoo was unsure how to approach you.

Besides making his feelings partly known that first night, there’d been too much emphasis from the association that you and he never fully had that chance to explore each other emotionally.

You were well aware of Jinwoo’s thoughts towards you, yet you never acted on them, not unless it was in the bedroom. You cooed all sorts of little sweet nothings into his ear, and only then did you make him think you felt that way. As soon as he came and you were finished, it all stopped.

He craved more than just a facade. More than just a show for the association. He wanted you to want him too. He had already killed for you to ensure you slept next to him at night, that you uttered his name with pleasure and ensured he was the first and last person you saw in the morning and before bed.

So why was everything falling apart and becoming so difficult?

Jinwoo wasn’t sure, he wanted to get to the bottom of it, so he thought of the most logical way and just asked on the drive to the restaurant. “So… I know things have been difficult. I wanted to let you know that I appreciate everything you’re doing.”

“You do?”

“I do. It’s not easy and I can’t imagine how awkward things are for you…” He started soft and respectful for now. “We’re in this together and I want you to know that just because the association wants to turn their backs on us in a month, it doesn’t mean I will.”

You were silent for a while, looking over at Jinwoo in the car every so often from his periphery, he could tell that you were conflicted. Each time you opened your mouth to speak, you stopped yourself until he looked over at you behind a red traffic light.

“I guess we haven’t really had time to find more about each other, huh?” You looked down at your laced fingers nestled neatly on your lap. “I guess this whole thing has thrown me a little.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“It’s just… If I’m less involved with you, Jinwoo, then I won’t get attached. And the pressure of all these negative tests is stressing me out- I want to get to know you better, but Jin-chul said it himself, in a month they’ll split us up, so what’s the point?”

What’s the point? The point is everything, it’s the very essence of this programme, the point is to get to know each other and make a baby. When Jinwoo eventually got you pregnant, because he wouldn’t ever give up, he wanted to be a family. That was his main goal.

He didn’t want some other woman’s child, he wanted yours. 

“There’s a point, but that’s probably a contributing factor to why nothing’s happened yet… Y’know, the whole ‘why bother if it isn’t going to work’, I think we need to reevaluate our stance on this.”

“So… this is all my fault?”

“No, no, no, I never said that.” Well, in honesty, it was. But how could he tell you that when you looked so hurt as he pulled up in the darkened parking lot, right by the streetlamp with the busted light. “All I’m saying is that it’s a cycle, and we’re stuck in it, so let’s pull ourselves out of it, okay?”

“So what are you suggesting exactly, Jinwoo?”

He had one idea, and that was to fuck you senseless in the car right now, but he went with the secondary option instead. “Why don’t we go on a real date and see how you feel then?”

When you turned to him, pulling off your seatbelt in the most adorable way, Jinwoo saw the cogs turning. “You want that?”

“I told you how I felt about you, remember? This is more than just an agreement to me, and it can be for you if you let it. But it’s your decision to make.” 

Making it sound like your choice made it easier for your brain to comprehend someone else making decisions for you without even realising. Eventually, Jinwoo would coerce you into picking every option he chose, darting around the wrong ones like a river around a rock.

The right choices were the ones involving Jinwoo.

“I don’t-” You didn’t flinch, not at Jinwoo’s touch to brush a hair from your face. “I don’t know what I want.”

“I can show you a few options. If that’s what you want?” Jinwoo’s touch never let up, his thumb traced your bottom lip, his eyes watching you softly under the interior light. “I want you to be comfortable and look forward to being with me, not dreading it.”

You swallowed deeply, biting your bottom lip and contemplating your life choices. “Why do you- how am I good enough to-”

Jinwoo kissed you, it was the only way to show you instead of spilling pointless words for you to deny. Actions spoke louder than words and it was about time you saw that. The kiss was quick and sweet, firm enough to mean business but shallow enough to stop you bolting.

And when you kissed him back, it was a sealed moment in the relationship. Not once outside of the bedroom had you kissed or even spoken about Jinwoo’s feelings about you since the beginning. He hoped once Hae-in fell pregnant, you’d stop with the barrage of guilt for sitting on Jinwoo’s cock in Hae-in's place. She was pregnant now and it was about time you were.

It was probably the reason Jinwoo was caught off guard when you pawed at his suit jacket, becoming more feverish and passionate so quickly, going as far as to turn the interior light off.

“What do you need?” He managed to get in between touches, heated exchanges in the passenger side after you slipped your stilettos off.

“Want you to- I need you to fuck me.” You were already hiking your dress up.

To fuck here, in the parking lot when the resturant was maybe fifty metres away, the association table most probably already collecting with hunters and you wanted to fuck?

Jinwoo was already at half mast just from your kiss and here you were, about to slip your underwear off.

“Leave them on-” Jinwoo launched his driver's seat back as far as it could possibly go and took a hold of your waist, pulling you on top of him as close as he could.

He gripped your hips and weighed you down over his growing erection until you ground on him instinctively. You were beautiful, breasts stuffed into your dress jittering perfectly with each stolen breath to make the car windows steam.

“What’s caused this?” Jinwoo wasn’t sure why he asked, but he did.

“I-I don’t know, I just need you right now.”  It was good enough for him, you caused friction over his suit pants that drove him wild.

Jinwoo chuckled, shoving his face against your chest and trying his damndest to keep his composure. He couldn’t ruin you, not right here before the dinner, but he could leave you with a present. He pulled your dress up further, past your waist and admired your body begging for his touch, each kiss was electric, every touch a lit fire under his skin. You were coming round to this idea eventually, the only thing getting in his way of keeping you permanently was a baby.

Before Jinwoo could really settle himself in the moment, you were tugging at his belt, lips locked in a hurried fashion with feverish tongues exploring each other's tastes. You tasted of spearmint toothpaste, gentle, refreshing mint right on his tongue. Jinwoo wondered what he tasted like to you, but that thought quickly flew away when you hurriedly pulled out his hardened cock to sit on.

It happened so quickly, yet earned no complaints from either participant.

Jinwoo pulled your lace underwear to the side, the softness gathering at his fingertips as he moved and and slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside you. You sat down quick enough to make him gasp, bottoming out with an overcharged huff, sexually activated.

Perhaps now you and he were joined as one as a couple could be.

You moved, slowly picking up the pace while Jinwoo held on for dear life, cursing under his breath at the very sight of you initiating something like this. It was more than just sex now, that much he understood. How could you say this was just sex?

So beautiful. He wanted so desperately to make you a mommy, filling you up time after time was his only way to truly get that ownership over your fierce independence you displayed out of the public eye. He couldn’t wait to break it down in exchange for codependency. You might be one of the country’s sweetheart S-Ranks, but Jinwoo knew you to be filthy, riled up and stubborn enough to give him a run for his money. Taming that was his ultimate adrenaline rush.

Jinwoo pushed you down further, watching your breasts bounce, the whole car trembling with the anticipation of an orgasm. His kink took over. 

“We’ll finish this tonight, but I’m coming inside you and I want you to keep it in for the entire dinner, can you do that for me?”

You nodded immediately. “Y-yes. Yes.” 

“Good girl.”  

He pulled you down to kiss, both tongues and saliva joining in desperation which seemed to spur you on further, ass bouncing and cupped in his hands for safe keeping. 

“Give it to me- now, I want it now, shit - we’re going to be late-“ 

“Don’t look at the clock, we have plenty of time, hold on.”

Jinwoo fucked you good. The little driven breaths from your lips drove him insane, fingers clenched around his suit lapels for support, ravenous at everything you did. The way your pussy sucked him in like it was meant for him, made for him. Fate enough that you fit so perfectly in his arms, the accentuation of your waist enough for his hands to sit like a carved art piece. So much perfection.

He loved it.

He loved you.

And he’d love the body you got while it made his baby and especially after that.

A family. He wanted a family with you so desperately. Give that to me, please. 

“J-Jinwoo, I’m com- I’m coming- oh fuck!” 

He wanted to kiss you so your moan escaped into his mouth, but that would have been a waste. “Let me hear you, don’t keep it in- please don’t keep it in.” 

You did as you were told and let it out, the most sensual and romantic gesture you had done for Jinwoo to date. When your hips jerked, you pushed Jinwoo’s back into the seat which made his heart swell three times the size.

Perfect. Just perfect. 

“Are you ready for me? Take everything I give you and keep it there-” He pulled you in for one last kiss. “You can’t waste a drop-”

There was something that mulled over in your eyes, like a darkness, but nothing like Jinwoo could produce when he was pissed off. Because you weren’t angry, you weren’t enraged or engulfed with fury. No, you were hungry, ravenous.

“You better fill me up good, or we’ll never make it to that dinner.”

Fuuuck. 

Well that just spurred him on and when Jinwoo did come inside you, it was positively the strongest orgasm he ever had in his life, not just with you, but in his entire existence. He held onto you tight like you would disappear in thin air, like you would leave if he didn’t have you in his clutches already.

Jinwoo wanted to forget about the dinner and in fact, he did forget as his toes tried to curl in his shoes, his knuckles seizing up at his iron grip on your hips and digging into the plush skin that would most definitely bruise tomorrow.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. The scene was sublime, the actions and words and everything happened as it should. Never for a second did he ever think you would do something so risky so early. In the grand scheme of things, two months was nothing, and you were bending to him like you needed him as much as he needed you in no time at all.

when it calmed down, you leant over to kiss him, your lips less passionate and more sweet like honey, though your face did not match it. It was like you were troubled over something you didn’t want to share, or thought it wasn’t worth acknowledging because you smiled sleepily right after.

If Jinwoo blinked at that moment, he would have missed it. So, he took a stab in the dark to gain your trust a little better. “Don’t worry, we still have time to do this.”

“I know… I just- I don’t want to have to start over again because they’re impatient. But…”

“What is it?” Jinwoo ran his fingers over your forearm, tickling them into goosebumps.

“What if I can’t- I mean, they never tested to make sure before we started this and I don’t want to be a disappointment.”

You weren’t really thinking that, were you? This was the association's doing, not yours, and Jinwoo would be damned if he let you think that way, just when you and he were making headway.

“Please don’t think that way. It just takes time, don’t compare yourself to Hae-in, she just got lucky, but we still have time. So let’s make the most of it, hm?”

It seemed to settle you. You didn’t get off of him initially and Jinwoo assumed it was to keep his fluids inside a little while longer, but that wasn’t exactly that. You laid down and rested your head on his shoulder for comfort, you even allowed him to stroke your hair in the process.

“Okay… Alright then, let’s do this. We can do it.”

Well this night became a whole lot more interesting than I initially thought. 

Originally, Jinwoo fully accepted that you were either going to ignore the issue and therefore ignore him, or it would blow up into an argument. Though you never really had it in for Jinwoo, he was the closest one to air your frustrations about the association. He tried to stay on side for the most part, but then he’d say something that didn’t align with your frustration and he’d get both barrels. While he never took it personally, it was getting kind of boring.

So when you and he straightened yourselves up, left the car with you full of his semen and holding hands like a real couple towards the restaurant, Jinwoo had high hopes of succeeding his untouched year long quest.

All he was waiting for now, were those two little lines on a pregnancy test and the first step of keeping you was complete.

One hell of a bumpy ride, but his suspension still seemed intact.

Part 4 <- Part 5 -> Part 6

If you would like to be tagged, please let me know! Thanks so much for all the support on this likes, reblog and comments appreciated! ❤️

Tag list - @bubera974,@snowy-violet,@sky2lar,@starrynights23x,@minh907,@yessirr7,@aussie-boys-wife,@yihona-san06,@mashiromochi,@daiyanomochi,@justatimidcreator,@alia-17,@otomegamesforlife@m00n-estelle,@towomatos,@stormnightingale,@johnnysactualgf,@solarisstarrsolomonsbeloved,@johnnysactualgf,@solarisstarrsolomonsbeloved,@notleclerc,@minkuro,@misakicchi,@lovingyeet,@soft-dots,@gina239,@sabrina-senpai,@tsukimoon-chan

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhua. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part seven max verstappen x reader ( angst ) series summary . . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )

The McLaren hospitality sliding doors shut behind you with a soft click as you walked down the stairs into the paddock, but your heartbeat thundered in your ears like a red-flag restart. You weren’t expecting it. You weren’t ready. And yet—

“Y/n.”

His voice. Your name. Cut through the Monaco mist like a red light breaking dawn. You didn’t want to hear it, couldn’t face it. Not today. Not after everything.

You turned on instinct, feet ready to run. But Max caught your wrist before you could vanish.

“Wait—please—just—don’t go,” he whispered.

His grip wasn’t tight. Wasn’t cruel. It trembled, soft and shaking like his voice, like the way his blue eyes were oceans you weren’t ready to drown in. He pulled you, gently but firmly, into the narrow alley behind the motorhomes where no one could see. Just the two of you and the rain sneaking in sideways.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Max asked, voice cracking on the syllables. “Why did you block me, Y/n?”

You couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t see the hurt on his face without unraveling. The ache in your throat built like a crash on replay.

“I miss you,” he whispered. “I’ve been trying. Every day. You just… disappeared.”

You pulled your wrist free, slow, careful. The way you'd untangle a necklace that meant too much.

“I just wanted Amilian,” you said. “My friend. Not—” you gestured at him, at all of this, at him. “Not you. Not Max Verstappen.”

Silence. Then—

“That’s why I created him, Y/n,” Max said, voice thick. “Because no one knows how to be friends with Max. They know how to talk to the brand, not the person. But you—you treated me like a person. You made me feel sane.”

He stepped closer, took your hand again. Desperate. Sad. His other hand brushed your elbow like he was scared you’d vanish.

“You made me happy, La. I could always go to you. When I was losing my mind. When I hated being me.” His voice dropped, bare and broken. “I love you.”

You choked on your own breath.

“What?”

“I love you,” he said again. “I fucking love you, Y/n.”

You shook your head, wild with confusion, with stormy disbelief. “But I’m me, Max. I’m—me,” you gestured again, hands helpless.

“You wouldn’t have told that to Amilian.” He grumbled under his breath, stepping forward until the gap between you shrank into breathless tension.

“Well, Amilian never was,” you say.

“But I am. I was. And we’re here now. You can’t fall in love with someone you met online, huh?” he said, mocking softly, but it was aimed at himself.

You placed your palm on his chest. A boundary. A warning. A truth you didn’t want to admit: You’d already done it.

You’d loved Amilian, who didn’t exist. You’d fallen in love with a lie.

“But I did,” you said quietly. “That’s the problem. I fell for someone who was never real.”

Max’s hand found your other wrist. “Then let’s be real,” he begged. “Right now. Because I need you, Y/n.”

His voice cracked like thunder splitting the sky.

“Every day, I dreamed of killing Amilian. After that night, after you stayed in my apartment—he wasn’t enough. He was stealing you from me. I had to let him go so I could be with you.”

He kissed you.

Soft and fierce, like he’d been holding it in for years. You froze, lips against his for just a moment. One second of shattering warmth before you pulled away.

Max bit his lip. Tried again, leaning in, eyes so full of need they were almost glowing. You flinched back.

“I need space,” you whispered, voice trembling.

His expression collapsed. “But I need you.”

You took a step back. “I’m sorry, Max. But I can’t be Ajla with you anymore.”

Your username burned in your mouth like salt. Like something holy you had to abandon.

You slipped out of his hands.

Rain fell harder, cold and loud, and he stood frozen in it—just another man in Austria, heartbroken behind the paddock, drenched in everything he couldn’t say.

“Y/n—please,” he tried once more, voice so raw you almost turned around.

But he didn’t follow.

He couldn’t.

And for the first time in a long, long while, Max Verstappen stood still . . . and let her go.

[starsinthesky5]

How did songbird react to Joe’s heisman speech?

a/n: wrote this while watching the draft and started tearing up looking at clips of his speech 🥲

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

it was one of those slow, dimly lit sundays—the kind where the hours melt together and the quiet feels like a blanket of its own. they were tangled up on the couch, her body curled into his side, legs draped lazily over his lap, the worn fleece of the throw blanket tucked around their ankles. the afternoon sun streamed through the windows in gold streaks, warming the room, softening the world around them. joe’s fingers skimmed gentle patterns along her thigh, the tv humming softly in the background as youtube cycled through random thumbnails.

she wasn’t even really paying attention until she saw it—that thumbnail.

the video title was plain enough: “joe burrow heisman speech (full)”. the still image showed him in a stiff tux, standing behind a podium with a look in his eyes she hadn’t seen in full before.

vulnerable. proud. a little overwhelmed.

she gasped and sat up straight, nearly knocking the remote out of his hand. “wait—wait, go back. that one,”.

he groaned, “nooo, babe, come on. that’s like ancient,”.

but she was already reaching for the remote, grabbing it out of his hands and clicking play. “i’ve only seen clips,” she said, wide-eyed and already emotional. “i’ve never seen the whole thing. pleaseeee,”.

he sighed, but smiled, giving into her adorable request. he could never say no to her, not when she had that look in her eyes. “you’re ridiculous,”.

“and you were a baby,” she countered, already inching closer to him, climbing into his lap this time. “a soft baby, up there thanking people and…oh my god, you’re already tearing up in the thumbnail,”.

“i was not,” he mumbled, but his arms came around her anyway, letting her settle against his chest, her hand pressed lightly to his sternum as the video began.

the applause faded. the stage lit up. and there he was—22 and unsteady, standing in front of a room full of lights and cameras and strangers in suits. his hair shorter, face leaner, voice just slightly pitched with nerves. she immediately went still, breath held as she watched.

he started with thank-yous. to his teammates. to coach o. to lsu. his voice was calm, collected—until it wasn’t.

“coming from southeast ohio… it’s a very impoverished area…,”.

that’s when her chest started to ache.

she’d heard it before—those thirty seconds that went viral, that raised half a million dollars for his hometown in a matter of days—but she hadn’t heard him say it. not like this. not all the way through. not while she could feel the thump of his heart behind her palm, real and steady and still so full of that same pride.

“people there don’t get a lot of opportunities…i’m up here for all those kids in athens county that go home to not a lot of food on the table…,”.

his voice cracked—not dramatically, just enough to betray how much it mattered. and she broke. completely. a choked sob left her lips before she could catch it. joe turned to her immediately, just in time to see her bury her face in his sweatshirt. “oh my god,” she cried, muffled and breathless. “you were crying up there and now i’m crying and—this is so stupid—you didn’t tell me it was like this,”.

he blinked, stunned for a moment. then, like a traitor, he grinned and pulled out his phone. “you’re actually sobbing right now?” he whispered as he hit record. “you soft little thing,”.

“shut up,” she whined, blindly swatting at him with tears still streaming down her cheeks. “you looked like you were gonna fall apart the whole time! your little voice cracked and your hands were shaking and—and you didn’t even look up when you said athens county, you just…oh my god, my heart hurts,”.

joe laughed softly, kissing the top of her head as she practically dissolved in his lap. she was crying like he had just won the award again. crying like she could somehow go back in time and wrap her arms around the kid on stage. “hey,” he murmured against her temple. “baby. i’m right here,”.

but it didn’t matter. she was too far gone. she kept kissing his jaw through her tears, running her hands through his hair like he was the one who needed comfort.

“you’re such a good man,” she whispered thickly. “you were a good kid, and now you’re a good man, and i just..i’m so proud of you,”.

he went quiet at that. still. she could feel the way his chest rose and fell beneath her hand, the way his fingers curled a little tighter around her waist. her tears hadn’t scared him off or made him roll his eyes. he didn’t tease her after that—not really. he just held her, kissed the shell of her ear, the corner of her damp lashes, her trembling mouth.

“you didn’t need to do that,” she whispered. “you didn’t have to say any of that. and you did it anyway. you’re magic, joe burrow. always thinking of others even in your most special moments,”.

he didn’t say anything. he didn’t need to. this was her moment, her moment to see a side of joe she hadn’t seen before. he didn’t cry often, so seeing him up on that podium, infront of so many important figures, crying. calling attention to his hometown. calling attention to a growing issue in the community.

that’s what broke her. he had it all back then, truly. he didn’t need to do anything but accept his award and say a few thank-you’s. and he did just that, yet his heart was still with the people that shaped him into the man he was today. and he couldn’t go on without mentioning that.

that’s what made him so special.

the video faded out. the screen returned to the home menu. but they didn’t move. she was still in his lap, cupping his face now, wiping away the ghost of emotion that he wouldn’t admit had snuck up on him too.

and from that moment on, she babied him like he was the one who’d gotten emotional.

she wrapped him in the softest throw blanket they owned. made him a smoothie even though he didn’t ask for it. fixed him a plate of pasta with garlic bread she cut into hearts just to be dramatic. when he tried to get up, she pushed him gently back down with a hand to his chest. “you sit,” she told him. “you’re my precious heisman baby and you stay put,”.

“babe,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “this is so dramatic. you know this was years ago, right?”.

“you cried in a tux,” she replied. “you lost all rights to complain,”.

and he let her dote. let her coddle and coo and kiss all over him. let her fuss with his hoodie strings and call him “my sweet angel” while feeding him strawberries. and every time she started to tear up again remembering the speech, he kissed her until she was breathless and quiet, smiling against his lips.

later that night, long after she’d fallen asleep with her head on his chest and her hand over his heart, he unlocked his phone and played the clip back.

her face, tearstreaked. her voice, thick with love. her eyes, wrecked over him.

he saved it. of course he did.

because there was something about the way she looked at him when she cried like that—like she wasn’t just proud of the boy behind the podium, but in love with every version of him that had ever existed.

and he’d never stop being soft about it.

[madaboutmunson]

Pick Me

For the dailydrabble prompt 'Necklace' by @strangerthingswritersguild

Ao3 Link

Eddie doesn’t mind. In fact, it’s probably one of the times his boyfriend’s face is at its cutest. Which is rare, because most of the time, to Eddie’s eyes, Steve is smoking hot, but right now, he’s cute. His eyes are big and inquisitive as he lies tucked under Eddie’s arm, twirling the ball chain of his necklace around his fingers, rolling it between the pads of his fingertips, smoothing over the guitar pick.

The same pick Dustin had used to keep Wayne safe, out of harm’s way, so he wouldn’t go looking for his nephew. The one that left a scar on the older man’s palm from how tightly he’d gripped it, day after day, until they were finally reunited.

Eddie doesn’t remember what happened in the Upside Down. One minute, he was looking up at a sobbing kid, and the next he woke in a hospital bed, wrapped head to toe in bandages, a groggy Harrington rubbing his eyes, making sure it wasn’t a dream, then running to grab a nurse.

These days, it feels like he’s the one dreaming. A wonderful, beautiful boyfriend who only ever leaves his side when absolutely necessary. A home, one where his uncle has his own room, too. A house with a view, and not a neighbour in sight.

He never thought he’d be one for peace, and yet here he is, effortlessly floating in it.

Those honey-brown eyes are so close, so shiny, Eddie can see the red swirls of the plectrum reflected in them as the man beside him talks about something funny one of the kittens did, one of the many they’d found in the old barn, while he’d been working on a customer’s truck.

“Hey,” he says, voice a little rough but full of fondness, and lashes lift in response, fluttering up like they always do when he gets Steve’s full attention.

“Hey.” The smile he gets starts simply pleased, but melts into something warmer, softer, like a quiet replay of the afternoon they just shared is playing behind those eyes.

“What’s your favourite colour again?” Eddie asks in the most faux-casual tone he can manage, but narrowed eyes pin him with suspicion. He doesn’t forget those details, never has, but it’s worth the game. Curiosity’s gotten the better of his love.

“Blue,” comes the simple reply.

He groans, reaching for something in the drawer behind him, reluctantly dragging his gaze away from that stupidly gorgeous form. His fingers fumble, it’s not right there, and he huffs before turning back, something hidden behind his back.

“Come here,” he says, tugging his partner on top of him as a small box digs into his spine. “Now close your eyes.”

A soft laugh, a little pout. Lips pursed like this might be another ploy to drag them back into the earlier rhythm of limbs and heat, but he does as asked.

It is too difficult to resist, getting lost in how ridiculously handsome Steve is. With his eyes closed, it feels almost like Eddie can stare without shame, count the beauty marks, follow his slight smile lines, that he’s gladly starting to feel responsible for, and marvel at the very bones of him. A playfully impatient dig of a knee in his side pulls him out of his art appreciation.

Eddie opens the box. Inside, a ball chain necklace with a plectrum pendant, just like his, only this one shimmers in blues, where his shows reds.

Carefully, he places it around Steve’s neck, fastening the bead clasp with a soft click. Eyes open wide as the chain settles at the back of his neck.

A breath escapes, sharp, searching, as his hand goes immediately to the pick. He hops off the bed so quickly Eddie thinks anyone else might take offence, but he just rolls onto his side, watching, soaking it in.

There he is, grinning into the mirror, fingers brushing the pendant, turning this way and that.

Some might call it vanity. And maybe a piece of it is. Steve does take pride in his appearance, and hell, if Eddie looked like that, he might live in front of a mirror too. But this? This is something else.

He knows his guy. Knows that thrill running under his skin. Because Eddie found a loophole.

It was no secret: as far as he was concerned, this was it. Final stop on the relationship express. No interest in going anywhere else. The feeling was mutual, but cautious.

Their life was good. Worth protecting. Rings brought questions, ugly ones sometimes, and Steve knew Eddie’s mouth and answers to those questions could get him in trouble. So rings were out. For now. Tattoos were suggested, but immediately vetoed. Steve’s skin was already art.

Bits of paper, handfasting ribbons, even stars named after each other? Too abstract. Too far removed. But this…this was real.

“Looks even better on you than I thought it would,” he murmurs, gaze heavy, satisfied.

“Thank you, baby. I love it.” That smile’s back as he turns from the mirror, then glances back again. “You don’t think-” A crease starts to form between his brows.

“Nope. I don’t think anyone’s going to jump to conclusions. If you lose it, it’s easy enough to replace. Cheap, like mine. People’ll just think you’re into guitar playing,” he grins. “Which you are , now.”

The worry melts away, replaced by laughter. “Maybe the guitar teacher.”

“I dunno about that. I’ve caught you more than once, strumming away when you thought no one was watching.”

“Creep,” comes the retort.

“Guilty.” He raises both hands, surrendering, then stands and wraps them around his boyfriend’s waist from behind, or maybe now it’s more than that? Life partner, fiancé, future husband, soulmate. “Can you blame me?” he murmurs, lips brushing warm skin as he presses a kiss to his shoulder.

“Shame I didn’t buy you yours.” The smile’s crooked, just a little sad, and Eddie sees what sits behind it.

“Doesn’t matter about the past. What matters is who I see when I catch it in the mirror. Whose hands I think of when I touch it. Whose lips I imagine brushing it when it dangles from my fingertips. Your money’s not in it, but you are.”

Steve turns from the mirror, hands sliding over Eddie’s arms, eyes searching his face. “Forever?”

“Forever,” Eddie says without hesitation, drawing him in for a kiss, then tumbling them both back onto the bed.

And soon, he’s tucked under an arm just like before, fingers tracing the new necklace, finally understanding why it’s so easy to lose yourself in the feeling of something that belongs to the person you love.

[noirscript]

the price of legacy

pairing: yandere teacher x reader description: William Harrington, the sweet kindergarten teacher everyone adored, became the husband you never truly chose — and now, he dreams of children you never asked for. In his eyes, you're already perfect; in his arms, there’s no room left to say no. warning/s: yandere | noncon | dubcon | breeding kink | emotional manipulation | coercion | psychological entrapment | smut note: apologies for the inactivity. currently working on sovereign's reign. hope you enjoy this one! oh, and the sale on dark roast ends on the 30th. grab it while it's still on sale ^^ WILL ADD TAGS AND TAGLIST LATER! Made this on mobile and I'm sleepy (T△T)

Masterlist | DARK ROAST ON SALE | Commission | Tip Jar

William Harrington always knew what he wanted, and it was always you.

The house was quiet when he came home, the faint scent of chalk dust and lavender clinging to him like it always did after work. The door clicked shut behind him, locking you both in with a soft finality. His smile was the first thing you noticed — wide, eager, almost frantic in its affection. It twisted something low in your gut, but you still forced your own mouth into a pale version of his grin.

"Love," he said, dropping his worn satchel by the door, already crossing the room with a kind of boyish energy that didn't quite fit the situation. "You wouldn't believe how precious they were today."

Before you could respond, he had you wrapped tightly in his arms, the press of him too much, too fast. His chest was warm through the fabric of his shirt, his heartbeat hammering against you like he had run the whole way home just to get here. You managed a weak noise — something that could pass for acknowledgment — but he was already charging ahead, his words tumbling out unchecked.

"Little Amelia drew me a picture," he said, pulling away just enough to dig into his pocket. He smoothed out a crumpled sheet of paper, the messy lines and crooked letters forming a child’s rough idea of a person. ‘Mr. H’, it read. His eyes were bright, almost fevered, as he pressed it into your hands like it was something priceless. "She said I was her favorite," he added, his voice dropping into something shy, as if confessing a secret. Like a boy. Like someone still playing pretend.

You stared down at the scribbles, your mind dragging you back to the memory you couldn't seem to escape: the quick ceremony under a heavy sky, the cloying scent of lilies filling your nose until you could hardly breathe, the feel of his hand never leaving the small of your back — not in comfort, but as a claim. You remembered standing there, your mouth dry, your head swimming. You hadn't said yes. Not really. You just hadn't said no fast enough.

"And I kept thinking," he said now, voice dropping lower as he slid to his knees in front of you, his hands smoothing up your sides, slow and deliberate. His palms came to rest against your stomach, lingering there with a kind of desperate tenderness. "I kept thinking how soon it'll be our little ones I'm bragging about."

You stiffened, instinctively. His forehead pressed against your shirt, his fingers tracing gentle, possessive circles over your still-flat belly. To him, your silence was agreement. It always was.

"I can't wait, love," he whispered, rough and reverent. "I can't wait to see them toddling around... giggling... calling you Mommy." His mouth brushed over your shirt, a soft, claiming kiss. "They'll be beautiful. Just like you."

You blinked hard, the burn at the corners of your eyes sharp and sudden. Sadness, panic, dread — it all churned together until you couldn't tell where one feeling ended and another began. You had tried to tell him once. That you weren't ready. That you needed time. That you weren't even sure this marriage — this life — was something you wanted. But he never heard anything except what he wanted to.

In his mind, you were already perfect. Already his wife. Already the mother of children who didn’t exist yet. Just a few more months, a few more tries, and he would have everything he dreamed of. Whether you wanted it or not.

"You'll be such a good mother," he said, beaming up at you, utterly blind — or willfully ignoring — the way your hands trembled at your sides. "I just know it."

You smiled because you had to, because any other reaction would only invite more of his careful, suffocating concern. His hands slid down to your hips, holding you with the same gentle reverence someone might use to cradle a glass figurine. You weren’t sure how much longer you could take it — this slow, smiling entrapment he called love.

Because there were no locks that could keep him out anymore. No distance far enough. No safe word strong enough to break the fantasy he'd wrapped you into.

His breath warmed your shirt, slow and rhythmic, and when he looked up at you again, there was something burning in his gaze — something desperate, something too big and wild to name. He smiled, all teeth and certainty.

"Let's try again tonight," he said, his voice a low rumble that wrapped around you, heavy and inescapable. His hands slid lower, gripping your thighs just a little too tightly. "I can feel it, love. This time..." His smile stretched wider, sharper. "This time it'll happen."

You opened your mouth — you wanted to say no. You wanted to tell him to stop, to wait, to listen — but the words turned to dust on your tongue. He was already kissing your stomach again, his fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt with slow, aching persistence.

"You were made for this," he whispered, inching lower, tasting your skin through the thin fabric.

The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick and sweet with the faint smell of flowers — fresh blooms he had bought, bright and cheerful, as if good intentions could mask everything else. Baby name books sat piled on the desk. Plans scribbled in notebooks. Dreams you had no part in building now growing like vines around your life, wrapping tighter by the day.

You stumbled back when he pulled you toward the bed, but he caught you easily, steering you down onto the mattress you barely recognized anymore. The linens smelled like him. Everything did.

He was over you instantly, stripping you bare with careful, greedy hands. His mouth was everywhere, pressing kisses that felt more like marks, claiming you piece by piece.

"You're perfect," he groaned, settling between your legs with a practiced ease that made your stomach twist. His body was hot and heavy, his cock dragging against your thigh, and then — too quickly, too inevitably — he was pushing inside, slow only in the way that prolonged the dread. You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood, trying to stay silent as he filled you, his moan low and broken against your neck.

"There you are," he murmured, rocking into you with a steady rhythm that pinned you to the bed. "So good for me. So ready to be a mommy."

The ceiling blurred and spun above you, but you forced the tears back. You knew better than to cry now. Crying would only make him sweeter. Softer. More patient. And somehow, that was worse.

He moved faster, deeper, chasing something you had no say in. His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you higher, adjusting you like a doll, like something built just for him. His forehead pressed against yours, and he whispered promises against your skin.

"I’ll fill you up," he panted. "You’ll never have to be alone again."

The bed creaked under you both, the room thick with the slick sound of his body using yours, the heavy, clinging scent of sweat and flowers and inevitability.

He kissed you when he came — messy, breathless, his hips grinding down to bury himself as deep as he could, as if he could fuse you together. His weight pressed you into the mattress, anchoring you there.

"You'll be such a good mommy," he whispered against your temple. "And I'll be such a good daddy."

You stared up at the ceiling — silent, still — feeling the words sink into your skin like chains you couldn't break. The life he dreamed of was already here, already real.

And no matter how fiercely you wanted to escape, he had already decided for the both of you.

You were his.

And there was no way out.

TBC.

noirscript © 2025

Taglist: @hopingtoclearmedschool @violetvase @zanzie @neuvilletteswife4ever @yamekocatt @mel-vaz @vind1cta @greatwitchsongsinger @delusionalricebowl @nomi-candies @jsprien213 @kaii-nana33 @saturnalya @yandereaficionado @pinksaiyans @ivantillenthusiast @missybabes

[writerastray]

thrills {Blood Rush}

General Masterlist - Blood Rush Masterlist - Read this before interacting

-> Word count: 3.1k

-> Relationships: Han Jisung/f!Reader

-> Rating: 18+ → Mature/Explicit

-> Genre/Tropes:Crime/Mafia AU, Romance, Mutual Pining, Romantic/Sexual Tension (Spoiler tags: Ex's to Lovers?)

-> Synopsis: Part 3 of Blood Rush - You swore you’d never see Han Jisung again. Your plan was to focus on your studies and enjoy your normal college life. However, one phone call changes everything, dragging you back into the chaos you tried to escape.

-> Warning tags: Physical Abuse, Weapons, Blood and Violence, Explicit Sexual Content (Oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, possessive!jisung, mutual masturbation, begging kink), Car Accident, Toxic Relationship. Other Additional Tags to Be Added.

⚠︎ I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting. Please reblog if you want to share it. This work is only appropriate for adults over the age of 18. Ageless/blank blogs will be blocked.

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You felt anxious in the car. 

Even if the road was calm, the night was cool with the now-soft summer rain, the sound of the trees rustling, the warm breeze touching your hair, and the scent of moist earth comforting you.

Still something inside you warned you to run. Leave Jisung alone.  

The cops were undoubtedly looking for him in the traffic cameras, and here you are, by his side. You shouldn’t have come. 

It was hard to keep still, and you caught yourself fidgeting with your legs until Jisung's hands were in your thighs. The effect was immediate; the muscle loosened as he drew circles against your skin. He knew you too well.  

It was past midnight when Jisung called you.

The soft sheet was perfect against your skin, and you didn't want to go out in the winter.

Can you help me? He asked on the call. The first thought that crossed your mind was, What could have happened? and the next was, Should I get involved?

Whatever it was, it was not good. But how could you say no?

The strong cold wind enveloped you as soon as you were outside, and you were already regretting getting out of your bed when your gaze fell on Jisung.

He ran to you, a big smile, and drew you in for a kiss. You almost lost yourself in him, with his hand on your body, slow kiss, and soft tongue against yours. Almost. 

“What happened?” you ask, eyes roaming around every corner of his body, but he looked fine.

The streets were deserted, except for a few cars passing by and the convenience store down the block.

“I need to do a job tomorrow, but Hyunjin canceled with me, and I can't do it alone, and the others have their own things.” He exhaled and raised an eyebrow in a question. He was irresistible with his pleading gaze. You wanted to kiss him more.

“Fine. What do I have to do?”

And so he explained, and your heart raced with every word.

“You’re up to it?”

You knew your fate would change with that answer. You didn't hesitate. “Let’s do it.”

Want to keep reading? You can check it out on my AO3—just click this link to continue: thrills🖤

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Author's note: Hi! I hope you liked this story. English is my second language, so please excuse my errors. Constructive feedback is always appreciated! I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting of my work.

Did you enjoy this? If so, please reblog it. Thank you for reading! Sending love 💕

Copyright © 2025 by Writerastray.

[restlesscrybaby]

!! MR. RING-A-DING/LUX IMPERATOR. !!

☆ AMUSEMENT PARK HEADCANONS. ☆

A/N -- Going to Universal was fun. But gave me many ideas!!! So, me and my friend cooked some great ones up!! Well, mainly me! Shout out to my bff forever for putting up with my insane crushing on him. And forcing his song as a vocal stim onto them.

ENJOY!!!

( Using Universal as our base! )

For you, your local amusement park was huge. Late at night opened, all that fun.

Lights flashed brightly in your face as you walked down the paved sidewalks representing a road, giggles loudly echoing around you, everything felt dizzying from the last Rollercoaster, spinny-ride, or simple game or even walk made you.

Your eyes fixated onto a ride, a motion ride! How fun! You were quick to walk,

To get in line,

To WAAAAIT in line,

To finally get on,

To finally get buckled,

To finally get the handle bar,

And to finally wiggle your comfy ass into that HARD ass seat!

You surprisingly...

Got a seat alone!

The ride jerked as the mechanisms clicked, lifting you up towards the surround screen, the mimic of a Rollercoaster appearing ahead of you, as a villain attempted to swing a large baseball bat your way,

The ride suddenly jerked backwards as the vision spiraled, the looks of a town flashing onto the screen, the ride jerking up and down as it displayed you thudding against the road, civilians moving out the way and all.

It was quick the ride, you squealed and giggled.

The ride jolted again. The villain, a man with a baseball cap, an old-timey haircut, and a.. Dated looking baseball uniform. Like that of.. A 1930's cartoon. The screens light refracted and shifted as the villain looked to his bat, and a voice echoed from the sides where the doors had closed in on you.

"OHHH!" The voice echoed, "HOW'S ABOUT A BIT OF THIS..."

It reared the bat back, waving it lightly in a circle, "BATTTTTTER - UPPPP!" With a jolt, the screen changed again, you were in the air. Before, the looks of a rope grabbed you. It swung you, the mechanisms whirring quietly below your feet, a cowgirl with big hair appearing,

"GIDDY UP, BUCK! I GOTCHU, FOLKS!"

It was fun. Squeals of local riders echoed around your own!

Until, something strange happened...

Your tourist folk didn't know it was strange. But, you did..

As the cowgirl swung you, a cartoony-blue hand swung from the side. It waved four fingers at everyone, as the audio seemed to shift...

The hand waved again. It was quick. Fast.

"WOW! You folk sure do advance quickly!"

It's voice was that of an older cartoon, as the ride still swung you, the cowgirl reacting strangely now. A frightened yelp echoing the speaker, her country-thickened voice bellowing out.

"LOOK OUT! THIS AIN'T AN EASY FALL!"

The ride suddenly jerked, her rope slinking back, sending the screen to show you plummeting down back to the pavement. The hand never swayed, but a man appeared infront of you...

A man?

It had the nose of a pig, the antenna of a bug, the body of a man, yet, blue skin of something you'd never seen. This wasn't on the original ride. It never was. It never had been.

It's eyes did a big circle around, a small 'whhhOOOP!' Sound echoing around you, before his eyes focused on the people in the cart. With a quick blink, they slightly cross-eyed, going in opposite directions.

"LOOK AT YOU! SITTING AND GAWKING AT ME! WHADDYA THINK!?"

It's face went closer to the screen, it felt almost like you could feel his breath against you..

Atleast. You hoped it wasn't his breath but... The ride giving off air... For the effects...

Maybe it had changed.

It seemed to mess with the ride-goers, almost as if he could physically see them. He made comments, jokes, you could feel he could see you all. But, everyone went along..

Before the ride jerked. And suddenly, the screen clicked off, your cart was lowered, and it clicked back into place. It was an emergency call.. Something went astray. The screen seemed to be 'fucked'.

Huh.

That was strange..

And sad.

As you wandered, smelling scents of strong food surrounding, lights flashing, people screaming as rollercoasters whirred, some.. Right above your walkway, people's screams of joy playfully going way high above you.

You found another ride to stop at.

It had a long wait line, but.. It was a shooter game, you tried to shoot targets as the ride jerked you along your path.

As you sat, you watched as a vision of a deer and hunter played on a window of a fake door. Some small encounter, before the man screamed, and the deer fake lunged.

What a story.

As you watched,

The light.. Flickered weirdly..

Suddenly, something was there you recognized. That.. Thing you seen on the 'BATTER, BOY, BAT IT!' Ride.

It was a shadow, taking its hat off and tipping it, but it's silhouette perfectly shown.

You stared, like you've never stared before..

...

The line moved once again, you were quick to trail after, a sensation of unease pressing into you. What was that thing?

The whole night after,

Light flickered,

Screens were interrupted by that thing, playing games,

Even at points, it seemed even taunting guests.

Some Rollercoaster lights even fully clicked off, screams echoing louder when it happened.

Some store lights playfully illuminated certain items, most of which were of.. Not much interest, like flashlights and all that..

Store headboards seemed to spell out letters,

He LOVESSS spelling with the store letters.

He loves messing with the rides. Even turning off all the lights for that whole building, terror bellowing through, and he'd playfully laugh.

God of light! God of CREATION! He could do what he wants!

He loved the hologram lights for the water sections of the park, that illuminated the water. He'd reflect in the water, almost, and happily whistle out. A nice and dandy day!

...

Not nice for you...

Hi guys. Ignore fuck-ups and whatnot, deadass wrote this WHEN I FINAALLLYYY got home at 4am from Universal.

MWAH! I'LL MAKE A PART 2 TO GIVE IT flavor!!!

[thefaithfulnightwriter]

A Premise + A Update & A Vote

A Premise ~ A Burning Star

𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 she was a bright star. A star that burns bright. Even in a dark place she would still burn bright and bring light into people's lives. She was everyone’s bright star, especially three males. Three males who were her brothers. Who would do anything to keep her safe, their little star. 

But it was one horrible night, she goes through something terrible trying to protect herself. But she survives with many losses. Not only did she lose many things she also finds herself lost in a whole new world. In a world so different from hers that she has to navigate. 

She was lost and broken for so long, for so many years. 

Until she finally decided to do something with her life. And with this decision she finds many things happening to her. A rough new intense adventure starts for her. From meeting new friends, enemies, and even meeting someone special she never thought she would find…  a mate who was named 𝖃𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝕽𝖎𝖔𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓.  

A Update ~ My Life

Okay hiiiiii you guys okay so much has been going on in my life it isn’t even funny from having my mother going to the hospital and almost losing her a couple times (she’s still goin through it but she’s doin ok now) from losing my best friend do to her actions just yeah she hurt but whatever so yeah a lot has been happening in my life that like really sucks

i wanted to say i am so so so sorry for not uploading anything on here i have mainly been on my wattpad because i can wrap my head around it more like it’s easier for me on there and bc i am more comfortable there yk if that makes any sense but if you want you can check that out and there will be more over there

click here and bang thefaithfulwriter1 my wattpad

the link is there but i wanna try and upload on here now too but i will warn i am more so on my wattpad then anything so it would most likely be uploaded on there first then i'll upload here also i am only gonna be workin on one fic at a time like so A Burning Star has all my attention and i am tryna focus only on this book / fic

but before when i got on her i think i got a lil to happy and excited before and uploaded too much and a lot and i was all over the place while on here lmao then everything happened and i couldn't keep up on here so yeah imma try and stay with one book / fic at a time yk as i said imma try lmao it's just because how my mind and brain works so I am really trying to keep my focus on this book / fic and then once done i will move to the next

but anyways on to A Burning Star right now i got a question about the book / fic yes it is a series more than one chapter more then one part it's a read lmao but it's what i am working on atm it is a crossover a crossover between Fourth Wing and A Court of Thorns and Roses or FW and ACOTAR and the love interest is the lovely Xaden Riorson

i wanted to know did you guys want me to upload it here or no like i have 14 chapters done and written and i am working on writing chapter 15 now of the book / fic and yeah i have so many ideas and everything and i am still writing and on a roll with it and what not

but yeah just let me know do you want to see or read it or uploaded here on tumblr like i have it on wattpad and all but should i put here too and like when should i upload it like all the parts i have at once or put it as a schedule sort of i'm sorry idk if i am making sense lol

ohh and that above was a little premise yk so you can decide if you want me to upload it if i get a good vote and everything then boom it will be done it shall be uploaded by me lol

A Vote

also i am so sorry with how i am tagging this i am just trying to get it out there and find my way around tagging for this fic idk what the f0ck i am doing when it comes to tagging on here lmao if you have any pointers on tagging a crossover like this lmk pleaseee

I am also so iffy and nervous on if i wanna post this on here like i post mostly on wattpad so like idk this would really help

I will shut up now and will leave off with that please let me know your thoughts and if you are excited and want me to upload it lol ok okay hope to hear from you byyyyeee!!!

[baixue-temple]

I know I've only poked around the fandom for like.. A MINUTE but I have a thought as I go through meta and fanfic stuff, I keep bumping into interpretations bouncing between "Shen Yuan is a nasty little gremlin of a man just like the original Shen Qingqiu" to "he's a very nice person deep down unlike the original goods" but for me I'm kinda feeling like...

They're not the same person on a literal level. But they are also kinda the same guy, in a way in which they are running much more parallel than I think is given credit, in ways that makes SY much more fleshed out than The Nice One and SQQ flattened down to The Mean One.

Mostly I'm thinking of someone's video essay that touched briefly on Nature Vs Nurture themes in the show, and while they were talking about in reference to Binghe's arc, it made me sit back and think instead about how SQQ and SY could arguably fall under the same debate despite being more definitively separate entities than PIDW Binghe and SVSSS Binghe are.

Just off the top of my head:

They're both are very academic in their interests/skillsets, but SQQ's issues have twisted his perception so that his interests are instead standards of measurement against his worthiness as a peak lord (or just a person in general) vs SY's interests seem to come more calmly, given that he could binge read novels and more-or-less seamlessly fit into the scholar peak. Both display tendencies to defend their skills/interests from perceived or even imagined criticism...

...But both are ironically also pretty damn critical of others around them! The key difference that Shen Yuan is typically more internal about it once he transmigrates because now he doesn't have a keyboard between him and his targets unless SQH is around vs Shen Qingqiu is has truly just lost his ability to give a fuck, using his words as much as a shield as a weapon against perceived threats aka everyone and everything.

The level of self-deception that these two engage in re: their self-worth and how much they mean to others needs to be studied in a petri dish.

Both have a Specific Person that is critically important to their place in the world that come with complicated feelings of love, anger, self-worth, trust issues, etc. This really clicked for me when SY is taken to the fake bamboo house after being caught by Binghe. Whether or not Binghe's intentions are good, all SY is feeling is anger and tells him to leave him alone. He trusted this person! And what did he get? Captivity. So he lashes out verbally to keep him at arm's length because that trust has been damaged. Wait why does this sound familiar--

Furthermore, they are both pretty good examples of personalities where protectiveness of that Person can bleed into being domineering. SY doesn't realize he's done this to Binghe until nearly the end of the novel, where SQQ learns it early to survive and never unlearns it especially in regards to YQY. Both of them have big ol trust issues, have learned that they have little control over the world around them, enough so that they feel the need to control even their closest allies around them -- because they feel that if they don't, they cannot be safe.

Both tend to get misinterpreted -- and then react to it almost as polar opposites. Shen Qingqiu's more minor misdeeds or even attempted good deeds get taken negatively because of his personality, and he realizes this but gives up. Where Shen Yuan's actions often get received more positively than he originally intends or even wants, especially at the start of the story when he's primarily only thinking about his own hide, and there's lots of times where this goes completely over his head.

All in all, I think I'm finding more that I appreciate things that take this into consideration. That SY and SQQ are very much mirrors of each other's flaws and strengths. It's also just a sort of sad irony that SY starts the story hating SQQ so much but gradually becomes more forgiving of him as he learns more about the man and himself -- especially when you take into the factor that Shen Qingqiu... also hated Shen Qingqiu.

[pinkprimrose05]

....So like. Was ANYONE gonna tell me the pink and blue silhouettes were Ray and Zarc this whole time, or was I supposed to find out and explode all by myself?

[sysig]

Does this hurt? (Patreon)

Bonus:

I love surfacetable.txt <3

[mars-ipan]

still insane to me how ppl pretend fatphobia is about health only to continue to be fatphobic when someone gains weight or even just looks somewhat fatter as a result of improving health

[tamagotchikgs]

i finally got a mousepad after just using my pillowcase 4 months and o my,god. i can move so fuckn fast im NYO OM