#Horror sans was there for a tiny bit

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Bath

Hello!

Direct continuation from the prev Drabble 'Mud'! Taking place almost directly after.

First Drabble (original prompt by @spotaus ) Prev drabble Next Drabble

So we take off almost right were we left off, only like a small hour later.

*---------------------*

Nighmtare can't stop the purr as warm water goes over his shoulders to clean some of the worst mud away from the cravices.

Dust hums "Yeah I figured it would feel nice. feeling warmer?"

Nightmare nods and leans back against the hand on his spine. Dust had been supporting his spine ever since they got back and told him what happened. They went straight to the bathroom.

"Hah! Dusty using his magic hands?"

Dust shoots Killer and annoyed look from where Killer is sitting with his boxers on in the bathtub with Ngihtmare. Grinning widely.

"What? I also needed to get cleaned up!" Killer looks very smug.

Dust shoots Nightmare a look "How is it that you are 6 yet he is more childish?"

Ngihtamre grins and just leans more into the hold. The touch is gentle as Dust removes mud from the sensitive and painful spots. It hurts a little but not nearly as much as it used to hurt when getting cleaned, and no were near as much hurt as with the mud in it.

Dust continues cleanign his spine and ribcage slowly "It didn't get too far in. Seems like your sweater protected you from that."

Ngihtmare pushes closer to Dust's touch "Sorry for getting it dirty..."

Dust hums "No need. You didn't mean to get it dirty and even fi you meant to. It is just a sweater. Even so Cross is already working on cleaning it. It will be fine." He uses a small bucket to let some water wash away the soap.

Killer grins as he leans agianst the tub edge "Me next dusty?"

Dust doesn't even look up as he keeps washing Nihgtmare's shoulders "You can wash yourself."

Killer whines "But dusty~ Stuff may have gotten between my joints! Same like nighty!"

Nightmare rolls his eye lights but purrs when Dust starts washing his skull and neck. It is so nice and familiar by now. They always do this even if Nightmare knows that Dust knows Nightmare can wash that himself. Dust always takes time to carefully wash his skull and neck for him.

Dust hums "And Nightmare is six. which you are not." Dust taps his shoulder carefully "close your sockets nightmare. I am going to wash off the soap."

Nightmare nods and closes his sockets before feeling the warm water wash over his skull and shoulders. It feels amazing!

Dust smiles "there is the happy purring. much better." then softer "Can I wash your sockets?"

Nightmare considers it for a moment. He never likes seeing the others when he baths, he should be able to wash himself and it make sit easier to accept their help when he can't see them... But Killer is also in the bath and that is fine... Maybe he will be fine with it?

Dust is silent and waits patiently as Nightmare thinks it over. Ngihtmare ends up nodding and turning around in the tub to be facing Dust instead.

Dust gives a small smile before focussing on his face as he looks at his sockets from different angles. as Dust stares at him Nightmare just looks back at Dust. Unlike Killer, who is mostly naked and with just his boxers on, Dust is still mostly dressed. Dust had only taken off his hoody, scarf and gloves. So Dust just sits by them in loose sweats and a shirt. Dust gives a quiet hum "Yeah I can see some mud in there. I am going to try and get it out okay?" he looks at their basket of bathstuff and takes out some soft cotton swabs. Dust soaps them up before holdign hsi skull steady with a gentle hand by his skull.

Dust looks at him "Still okay?"

Nightmare frowns as he thinks it over. This should feel bad or dangerous. people near his sockets or skull is very bad news. But no panic or fear. He hums and mutters "it is fine."

Dust looks a bit surprised before grinning "Brave babybones." ngihtamre knows he is glaring at Dust but Dust just chuckles "okay. No eye lights."

Nightmare huffs but does as told. he turns his eye lights off and with them goes his side.

The darkness does make him nervous but he still feels the steadying hand of Dust on his skull. He hears Killer whine and mumble about unfairness and that he wants the spa treatment as well. And that Dust is so unfair to not give him one as well!

the cotton swab touching the inside of his skull and near his sockets is weird. It doesn't hurt but it is still weird. His hands shoot up and he grabs Dust's arms.

Dust freezes "too much?"

Nightmare shallows and forces the words out "It is okay..." he just.. needs this... just a reminder. it is okay.

Dust mutters softly "I will be careful."

And as he said he would. He is. careful and slow movements. with purpose. And It does feel better! discomfort and itchiness he hadn't been fully aware of just disappears with each gentle movement.

"That was it. You can turn on your eye lights again."

NIghtmare needs a moment to get his magic to respond and get his eye lights to return. It is brihgt for a moment but even his sight seems better than before!

Dust grins "There. Almost all clean."

Killer grins and leans over the side of the tub "Which means it is mine turn!" causing a big wave to splash over and for Dust to now have wet pants.

Dust looks down before shooting him a glare "You did that on purpose."

Killer gasps and puts a hand above his soul "me?! I would never! I am sooooo sorry for your pants!" he grins and winks "You could just lose them." and he wiggles his eye brows.

Dust looks very unimpressed and Ngihtmare agrees. Not one of Killer's best tries at flirting.

Dust just looks at Nightmare again "do you want me to clean your arms or do you want to do it yourself today?"

Nightmare frowns and thinks it over. He did his own pelvis and legs as always but it was harder than he remembers to get dirt and mud out of those spots. He just looks at Dust "Can you do it?"

Dust nods and starts getting the shower floof ready again. Nightmare holds out his arms and lets Dust do his magic to get the stubborn dirt out off his joints. Dust just seems to know how to do it as the dirt and mud easily disappears.

Dust nods and looks very happy with himself "There he is. All clean." he puts the bathstuff to the side and goes to grab the towel.

Killer whines again "come on dusty~ Please?" Killer grins as he turns around until his spine is against the tub and he looks over backwards over the edge with his skull upsidedown to look at Dust. It can't be comfortable. Killer grins "Please~ What if some of the stuff stays behind? What if I can't clean myself right?"

Dust rolls hsi sockets as he gets the towel and with an easy motions nightmare is out of the bathtub and wrapped in the towel. Dust pats him down carefully as he ignroes the whining of the adult behind him. Killer bemoans about this unfair fate and how he needs help from his friend and teammate yet Dust is cruel to not help him.

Nightmare is dry and Dust dresses him in his PJs. Dust lifts him up and shoots Killer a look "Don't destroy our bathroom whiel I am gone." and Dust leaves the bathroom.

They exit into their downstairs bedroom and Dust goes straight to their pillow and blanket nest.

Dust sits down and grabs a blanket and wraps it around him "comfy?"

Nightmar enods "yeah." Dust hands over his plushy and NIghtmare is quick to put her right by his side. Batsie is her name... Like the cow name Bessie because they are on a farm but with bat because... bat.

Not that it matters because Nightmare isn't going to admit he named his plushy.

Dust smiles at him "I need to go clean the bathroom and make sure Killer doens't drown and kill himself with his stupidity. Horror is-"

"right here." and Horror joins him. Horror smiles at Dust "Good luck with Killer. I got this."

Dust nods and leaves to return to the bathroom.

Nightmare moves his plushy around until he can use the wings to blanket him as well. trying to keep his hands free. horror hands him a plate and fork as he sits with him. Asking him how his day had been at his appointment.

nightmare eats and calmly talks about his day and all that happened. his soul calm and content after his bath.

--

Killer chuckles as Dust leaves wiht Nightmare. He should have actually cleaned up but come on! It was too much fun to hoke around with Dusty! Especially the tiny blush he had managed to cause!

Killer chuckles as he kicks the water up before leaning back to lay in the tub. Ah, baths are very nice. Maybe he should take more of them.

He just lays there to enjoy the water.

"Dont'drown yourself. Water and dust together make a mess."

Killer opens his sockets and grins at Dust who looks very unimpressed "I don't know. YOu seem fine with bathtime."

Dust rolls his eye lights "You know what i mean. Also get dressed weirdo. Have some modesty."

Killer grins and winks "oh? Is the most powerful monster shy about bare bones?"

Dust shoots him a look "Just clean yourself."

Killer leans dramatically over the edge of the tub "I can't~ What if i miss a spot? And how am I suposed to wash myself if i have to fully dress myself? I can't do both at the same time dusty~"

Dust crosses his arms as he glares at him. "YOu seriously still on about this?"

Killer grins "Sorry. can't." he leans forwards and shrugs his shoulders.

Dust lets out a long annoyed sigh "fine."

Killer blinks and looks abck at Dust as Dust calmly cleans the shower fluff of dirty water and puts new soap on it. "euh?"

Dust moves in his blind spot and a hand touches his shoulders and Killer just freezes.

He hand pushes him a bit forover and oh fuck. fuck... that.. that is that seem shower fluff on his spine and it feels so good and how are dust's hand so secure?!

He doens't know what to think. What does he do?! Why?! Why is dust washing him? Oh fuck it feels so nice? No wonder Nightmare always purrs up a storm after bathtime. Fuck keep in the purring. You are making this weird. it is just your homie giving you a bath that you have been asking him for! Don't make it weird!

He... hadn't realised how nice this was. this touch. Normally Killer is the one that hangs all over the others and starts contact. This is technically stuff that Dust started and it feels so nice is this what it is suposed to feel like?! Is it normal that Killer just wants to melt into the touch and wnats it to never stop?!

how is this so nice?!

Killer straight up had one night stands with others across the multiverse and that is NOTHING compared to how nice this is.

The fluff disappears and some warm, almost scolding hot how does Nightmare deal with this heat every bath and whyt does he like it so much? Goes over his back and spine.

Dust snorts and speaks "There. your spine and ribcage are clean now."

Killer glances back and Dust looks highly amused and smug as he collects the shower stuff. He puts it on the side of the bath before he gets up. He shoots him a look "The rest you should be able to manage yourself." and he leaves the bathroom.

okay while Killer is sad the contact ended he is also thankful that Dust left because there is a very very very obvious reaction to the touch and his boxers are not doing a great job hiding it.

What the fuck is wrong with him!?

*---------------------*

Killer having a bit of a gay panic. It was his turn. Also I have so little drabbles from his POV?! It is criminal

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[palettepainter]

I’ll be posting a little writing WIP for Hired Sparky later today, but for the Undertale fandom, may I propose an idea with Siren Horror?

I’m a shameless fan of HTTYD and the Sea Beast and 2024 I am dubbing my year of self indulgence so I’m posting this. I might write this if it’s popular enough or if I get the confidence too, but imagine: 

Y/N as a newcomer to a seaside town, neatly nestled on a coastline in the middle of nowhere. It’s bitterly cold nearly all year, and the people are about as sweet as vinegar. But the housing is dirt cheap, considering the looking threat of sirens that infest the waters. Y/N is nearly dirt broke and is looking to build a life outside of their family home, so the unwelcome seaside town it is! Not many people are willing to go fishing in waters popular for siren sightings, so the pay is pretty impressive (even if the work field is a bit competitive at times)

They’re hired onto a boat crew of hardened fishermen who all retell gorey tales of siren attacks in great detail fairly quickly, after doing a bit of research on sirens. The crew are at the point where they’ve learnt to laugh a little, they’ve worked the job long enough that they’re pretty relaxed despite the looming threat of danger on the water. Y/N is not so eased. They’re hired purely as a second hands on the boat: tending to nets and sorting fish once they’ve hauled onto the boat, nothing else. But the captain still hands them a rather heavy harpoon gun with permission to fire if need be. 

They set off into deeper waters where few fishing boats are given the clear to fish, meaning it’s basically free game for anybody with a net to catch fish of all kind. The weather is rough, but the crew bat their hands and say they’ve faced down worse storms 

But then a siren is spotted breaching the water a little ways from the boat. They’re not in immediate danger, and so reader assumes they’ll simply sail out of its line of sight, but the crew already fire a warning harpoon into the water to try and scare it off. For a beat, there is nothing, before the siren attacks the ship - a kraken of all things, one of the most dangerous species, considering its ability to grasp at the ship 

The harpoon has wedged itself into the creatures skull, piercing through the top and dimming it’s eye lights. It screeching, in confusion or anger, maybe it’s the panic coursing through their system, but the protagonist thinks that maybe, their might be fear mixed in with that shrieking. More harpoons and swords are fired at its heaving body, chipping at already injured and cracked parts.

When Y/N is ordered to shoot they instead aim for the rope attached to the end of the harpoon wedged in the creatures head, it grazes the rope, but it’s enough for the creature to snap is with a violently throw of its head. The creature sinks back into the water, the boat tossing from the loss of its weight, sending many of the crew overboard - including reader 

They try to swim back to the boat, but swimming in the confines of a pool to practise swimming in the sea proves that the sea is far more ruthless. They end up being dragged out to sea, climbing to a part of the boat railing that had been snapped off during the attack. Reader wakes up in some kind of enclosed cavern like structure, obviously forged overtime from the waves chipping away at the rocks. They’re cold, hungry, terrified…but alive. And they learn quickly they’re not alone. The siren is nearby, confused, disoriented and greatly weakened from the spear still stuck in their head. They can barely keep their head upright before they topple back into the shallow water with a grunt of exhaustion 

It takes a bit of effort, and gently coaxing, and a hell of a lot of stupid bravery, but when the siren has tired itself out enough and after several failed attempts at trying to swat them away (missing mostly each time thanks to their vision being heavily impaired from their injury) but eventually, the reader dislodges the spear, and is then promptly smacked *hard* and is sent flying into the sand 

Reader is certain they heard something snap as they fall back onto the sand, but miraculously, they don’t collide back onto any rocks. Feeling sore, they sit up, the siren is supporting itself on an arm with laboured breaths, the other clasping at the eye socket on the injured side of its head. Gradually, a red, focused eye light burns to life, focused dead on them. The siren looks at them curiously, as if they’re only just realising it’s alone - Y/N expects an attack, for it to pounce, so something…instead, the siren snorts, shakily hobbling off to the were the water is deepest 

Basically: what if Reader was THERE when Sans got that injury on his head?? The two have been washed into a cove by the tides: Sans is too exhausted to climb out and the water is dangerously shallow, there isn’t enough food for him to sustain himself, and without it, he won’t heal. Reader goes through the whole “Maybe these monsters are only monsters because we chose to see them that way” and overtime the two form a somewhat bond, reader bringing Horror food and such while he heals and Horror showing them that sirens are far more intelligent than what silly books have documented about them 

I’m a sucker for enemies of two separate tribes or species breaking the generational hate and learning to be friends it is SUCH a good dynamic and it scratches my brain the perfect way 

[written-in-flowers]

The Places Between Us: The Lycan Brothers: (OT8 x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: San x Wooyoung x Fem!Reader | Side pairings: Hongjoong x Fem!reader x Ateez x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff | AU: fantasy!au

Word Count: 13k

Summary: An ambush leads YN from Mingi's cold hands and into the long claws of Choi pack Alpha San and Beta Wooyoung. An escape plan is hatched, but is it executed?

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Overall Tags: dub-con, mind control, enslavement, kidnapping, forced breeding, monster fucking, sex work, mentions/implications of abuse, mentions/implications of SA, stockholm syndrome, public sex, exhibitionism, humiliation, degradation, breeding kink, bigdick!Seonghwa, bigdick!Yunho, DoubleDick!Yunh, monster fucking, face fucking, throat fucking, undead sex, sex w/ undead, belly bulge, anal sex, anal fingering, vaginal sex, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, squirting/vaginal ejaculation, slight size kink (height wise), overstimulation, facials, cum swallowing, choking, dom!ateez, sub!reader, tit fucking, sex toys, bondage, multiple partners, threesome (m/m/f), orc!jongho, naga!seonghwa, demon!hongjoong, dragon!yunho, undead!mingi, goblin!yeosang, lycan!san, lycan!wooyoung.

Taglist: @binniesbabe @stay-tiny-things @oiminho @babymbbatinygirl @sopematesxx @pirana10 @juicyjaxxy @corgilover20 @kinkymaminicole @londonbridges01 @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @cpg2020 @raralxyne (if you want to be tagged for future chapters, let me know in the replies!)

Part 3: The Undead Soldier < | > Part 5: The Goblin Merchant

****

Mingi froze in his seat, staring at the tent entrance and listening for more. Hurried shadows casted by campfires glided across the canvas, and the sounds of clanging armor and calls to action came from beyond the tent. Mingi immediately grabbed his sword and shield. 

“You stay here,” he ordered you, “And put on some clothes. You’ll need them.”

Panic hit you once you glimpsed through the flap. Loud barking and growling came faintly from the distance, mingling with the Undead battlecries. You quickly pulled on the tunic dress Mingi gave you, and strapped the bone-and-silver belt around your waist. The crow squawked and batted its wings excitedly, startled by the noise from outside, and this only worsened your panic. Confusion but determination came as you tied your sandals. This was your shot. Mingi had no intention of taking you to Lord Kim; you’d be going to his crypt in The Grey Lands where he’d keep you like a pet. You might end up a slave anyway, but you have to try. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you didn’t. 

“Do you know a way away from here?” you asked the crow as bloodcurdling howls came from outside. When it cawed, you said, “Show me then.” 

You opened the flap, and suddenly wished you had not. Amongst the broken bloodless corpses scattered on the ground, you saw massive wolves. At least, you thought they were at first. Taller and bigger than horses or men, they came in various shades of white, grey, brown and black. Standing on two legs, they were a mix of men and wolves. Their snouts covered in blood, their teeth alone made your toes curl back. You watched in horror as one wolf, a monstrous black beast, tore through a group of Undead like butter. It growled menacingly, snarling and clawing at any soldier who came within feet of it. It lifted one of the largest soldiers inches from the ground and bit into the neck, growling and snarling before tossing them away. Then, it spotted you. 

“Shit,” you breathed. 

The monster bounded towards you on all fours, and you broke out into a run. The crow flew low, barely visible in the torch lights scattered through the camp. It kept you on the outskirts, but that hardly mattered. You could hear the beast behind you, its feet thumping the ground and teeth right on your heels. A scream came out of you right as your sandal snagged on a tree root, causing you to fall and the wolf to climb on top of you. Its heavy body hovering over yours, it bared its fangs and roared. Another scream ripped through your throat, and tears instantly started filling your eyes. It moved to sink its teeth into you when something came from above. 

The crow slammed its beak right into the wolf’s eyes, causing it to howl in pain and swat its large clawed hands at the bird. You took several deep breaths as you watched the crow scratched and pecked at its eyes and face. The beast distracted, you scrambled to your feet and continued running through the battle. You dodged Undead and wolves alike, jumping out of their way or sidestepping to avoid being hit as you ran. Mingi and several other warlocks shot bolts of lightning, ice or fire at their opponents; some of them went down, but others charged forward. You saw the tree line up ahead, the dark forest beyond the tall trunks, and ran harder and faster. It was only a few yards away when another wolf blocked your path. 

This one was much larger than the first. Its snow white fur shone in the fire light, crimson blood matting around its mouth and dripping from its long fangs. Your heart thumped in your chest. The crow wasn’t around. Mingi wasn’t around. Nothing would stop this beast from devouring you. You backed up slowly until your body pressed into something hard. The sleek fur and hot breath made you jump, and you turned to see another wolf, dark brown and only slightly smaller than the first, closing in on you. You did everything to keep yourself at a distance from them. The pair circled you before facing you together, slowly inching closer as you drew further away. 

“She’s tasty looking…” the white wolf said in a raspy, gravelly voice. “I wouldn’t mind more than a bite.” 

They could talk?!

“She smells good,” said the brown wolf in a similar but higher tone. “Like a ripe peach waiting to be sunk into…”

“Ge-get back,” you said, knees shaking as you started towards the forest. “Min-Mingi will come for me, and he’s a warlock and he’ll kill you for trying to touch me.” 

Their laughter was loud grunts that rattled you. “That walking corpse can’t help you, sweetheart,” said the white wolf. 

“I suggest you start running, Little Peach,” his companion said. “The chase is always the best part.” 

You didn’t need to be told twice. Snapping into action, you took off into the woods. The cold air drying out your throat, your heart matched your fast steps. You used to outrun the boys on the school yard, but these were not little boys. The chances of getting away are far too small. Your crow friend might intervene once again and peck their eyes out for an easy escape. Mingi might discover what’s happened and fight to get you back. Or maybe, just maybe, you outstrip them and somehow magically end up at the base of the Crescent Mountains. The freezing air seeping through your thin dress and numbing your toes, you felt yourself slowing down. 

“Keep running, Little Peach,” the brown wolf cackled. “We’re almost there!”

Everything looked the same in the half-light of the moon. You made a turn, almost bumping into a tree before moving onward. 

“Uh-oh, sweetheart,” you heard the white wolf say, “We’re right at your heels.”

“You can always slow down! We promise it won’t hurt! We’ll be oh-so-gentle with you!”

“The first time!”

Your body begged for you to give in. With all the exertion you put yourself through, the sprinting was beginning to weigh you down. You took another turn, and saw light up ahead. Whether friend or foe, you didn’t know but you hoped it’d be your salvation. You charged forward to it before a big black mass came from your left. 

“Gotcha!” 

The brown wolf no longer stood on all fours, but on two. Standing several feet taller than you, you couldn’t help but freeze in its gaze. Its wet snout sniffed the air around you, thin lips stretching in a smile. 

“Ooh, you do smell good,” the wolf said, walking closer to you. “I’m going to enjoy tasting your little peach.”

You screamed when a pair of furry arms wrapped around your waist to lift you. Legs off the floor, you kicked and struggled in its strong arms. You punched at the lean, white arms holding you, but your hits were feeble against this strong wolf. 

“Where did that corpse find such a tasty treat?” The white wolf said, not bothered by your kicking and hitting. “We can raid it and get more yummy morsels like you.”

“Let go of me!” The vulgar words struck between your thighs, and your mark started burning. No. Not now. “Let go!”

“Aw, how cute! She’s trying to get away!” The brown one laughed. He reached forward  to the collar of your tunic and easily tore it. You cried out when a sharp claw touched your exposed nipple. “These look nice…so soft and round. Lycan women aren’t built like this.”

“Not in their natural form,” his friend added. “Come on, Little Peach, let’s have a look at you.” 

Your hands and knees stopped your fall, the twigs and leaves scratching your palms and legs. Crawling quickly, you scrambled across the floor before a clawed hand dragged you back. On your back, you stared up at the two beasts towering over you. They were wolves that stood like men. The white wolf was broader and more muscular, while the brown wolf was leaner and thinner. Your entire body shook, and you swatted at the claws reaching out to your tunic. Your cunt pulsed from the ideas starting to fill your head. Easily, the white wolf tore your belt off while the brown shredded the rest of your dress. The ripping of fabric and the snipping of their claws on your skin aroused you. 

“I wonder what Mingi will say when he finds out we’ve captured his pretty slave,” the brown one said, smiling gleefully as he grabbed your ankles. 

“I wonder what he’ll think when he finds out what we’re going to do to his pretty slave,” the other wolf said, already kneeling in front of you. “This looks nice,” he pushed your legs apart, “Already wet and ready, are we? You enjoy a good chase too, hm?”

“Screw the both of you! Let me go now!”

“Oh, somebody’s getting screwed,” he laughed, “Don’t you worry about that.”

A single slow lick of his tongue sends tremors up your body. The brown wolf holding you down, you had no way of fighting them off, but as a second lick came, you felt your struggle waning. The white wolf held onto your thighs, firmly keeping them apart as he made a third lick. You could feel his flat, wide tongue covering your entire sex; the cool air dried his saliva on your skin, which was then warmed against by his tongue. He rubbed his snout against your inner thighs, the wet nose taking in your natural scent before he sunk back to the middle. Your nipples hardened, and your toes curled at the constant, slow lapping. When he focused on your clitoris, you started shaking again. This encouraged the wolf to push the lips aside with his tongue and zone in on the throbbing nub. 

“Does she taste as good as she smells?” The brown wolf asked, tongue sticking out slightly. 

“So good,” he replied, “And sensitive. She’s already shaking and I’m barely licking it.” 

The brown wolf pinched your nipple between two black claws, moving them up and down to stir the pot. He gave a low chuckle when your hips twisted in his companion’s grasp. He held both your wrists easily in one hand, and continued teasing your breasts. The smooth claws grazed over the center of the hard peaks; the sharp tips lightly circled them, scratching the skin but not enough to draw blood. Tiny stings of pain came when he dragged his hand from bottom to top, though still not doing any damage. This combined with the tongue rolling around your swelling clit, you bit down on your lip to suppress your moans. 

“She’s loving this,” the white wolf said. “Don’t feel bad, Little Peach. Relax and enjoy my tongue for a while.”

“If you’re good, you’ll get more than a tongue.”

“Oh…God…” you let out in a shaky breath, head tossing to the side as he flicked right underneath your clit. 

“Feels good, hm?” the wolf below asked. “Do you like my tongue on your pretty clit?”

You couldn’t answer. The magic of your curse renders you incapable of refusal now. Mingi’s spell might remove pain, but not the control it took from you. His fellow moved to your side, holding your wrists still, and bent to lick at your hard nipples. His teeth nipped at them, leaving small bites on the supple mounds, whenever he rubbed his nose on you. They did this for a while, then the brown wolf knelt beside you. Through the woolen cloth covering his crotch was a long, red cock. Like Seonghwa, it was thicker and longer than you’re used to. When he lifted it, showing off the considerable length, you spotted a ball right at the base. Not balls, but a sort of blockage right there. You had no idea why he’d have that, but your mark had you wishing he’d plunge deep inside. 

“Let’s put this mouth to good use,” he said, pushing the head to your parted lips. 

The white wolf suddenly picked up speed, still only lapping over various parts that made you squirm in his arms. The brown one straddled your chest, hovering himself over your face, and pinned down your arms above your head. The hard head on your lips easily pushes through them, stretching your mouth and cheeks as he slid only a few inches inside. He let out a low growl when you started eagerly sucking the muscle passing over your tongue. You let it wag against the slick underside; it massaged the thick vein pumping more blood into it as it hardened. The string of muffled moans and curses the licking produced worked like a vibrator for him. He let out elongated moans whenever he reached your throat, holding himself there while you struggled to breathe. You loved the feeling, surprisingly. The slight choking and gagging it created each time he did it made you quiver. Unfortunately for you, the pair realized this and took full advantage of it. 

“Bring her to her knees, Wooyoung,” the white wolf gasped, pulling away from your soaked sex. “I want that mouth too.”

The brown wolf, Wooyoung, dismounted and easily lifted you to your knees. The white wolf grabbed your head, holding it firmly in place as he tapped his own heavy cock on your face. 

“She really is pretty,” Wooyoung said, slapping your cheeks and mouth with his friend. “She’s even prettier with cock in her mouth and on her face. We should keep her, San. Imagine having a slave who opens up whenever we want…Especially a pretty one like this.” 

“Not a bad idea,” San replied, shoving his head into your mouth at last. “Not a bad idea at all,” he groaned when you started sucking him. 

Wooyoung wrapped your hand around his cock, then started guiding it for you. You felt both of them pulse and throb together. It was like hearts beating in sync with each other. Warm, savory precum started spilling onto your tongue as San continued pumping into your mouth. He thrusted himself fully, tip invading your throat as your lips reached the knot at the base. Because of Mingi’s ritual, you didn’t feel pain. Even with your mouth so stretched, your throat being penetrated so much, you didn’t feel anything except pure pleasure. You squirm around in your restricted place, your cunt wanting attention from one of them if not both. Your heart pounded in your chest. San withdrew, drool and precum leaking from your lips and Wooyoung took his place. He tapped your tongue a few times, sliding up and down on it before pushing inside every so often. He chuckled when you desperately tried getting him in your mouth. 

“I wonder what he did to you,” said San, using your hand like a toy. “Most humans cry and are in pain from lycan cock. You don’t. Why is that, Little Peach?” 

“Probably used to it,” Wooyoung answered, forcing his length into your throat again. “It makes her even better.” 

“I don’t think so…” 

“You’re really thinking about that now?” 

“It’s crossed my mind…”

“Who cares, man? Stop brooding and enjoy our Peach.” 

San released you and laid on the forest floor. Without warning, he brought you on top of him. Your smooth skin brushed against his furry body, and with your hands no longer restricted, you started feeling his chest. Each breath stretched him, his hard chest tight on your hands, the hair smooth and silky on your fingertips. You were so much smaller than him. Even Wooyoung appeared an inch or so narrower. Even his dick was bigger. You knew this when he held you above his twitching tip and gently lowered you onto it. Fingers digging into the thick hair, you braced yourself for a tight pressure that sent moans up through your throat. You knew you were tighter than anything he’s ever had since his head fell back into the floor and he let out a soft howl. 

“Pl-please….” you whine, your walls squeezing his tip, “More…”

He answered by bringing you further down. While he focused on the pleasure burning within him, Wooyoung bent to see where you both met. 

“I told you she’s had lycan dick before,” he said. “She’s not even bleeding.”

San ignored him. 

“You’re lucky, Peach,” Wooyoung said, stroking your hair and licking your nipple. “It’s not every day a girl gets to fuck the Alpha.”

When you sat impaled on him, both you and San shook from the overwhelming pleasure. He kept his hands on your hips, nails scratching your skin from the tight grip as he guided you on him. Your mouth open from the steady stream of moans, Wooyoung shoved himself back inside. Holding your hair, he held you in place as he used your mouth like before. You tried letting go of San’s fur, but you couldn’t. If you did, you’d lose all balance and grip on reality. You only let go to put one of his hands on your chest. He cupped it easily, kneading and caressing the tit bouncing in his palm. You couldn’t stop. The mark burning on your back made it difficult to resist. You didn’t want to resist. You needed this. You needed them. 

After he was slick with your saliva, Wooyoung rounded and kneeled around you. Unable to stay up longer, you lowered onto San who might as well be a small bed underneath you. You did nothing but whimper when his hands spread your ass cheeks and something sticky and hot ran over your hole. 

“Stay still for a minute, sweetheart,” San rasped in your ear. “It’ll feel good in a few minutes.” You found it hard to stop grinding on him. He laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist, “It’s that good, hm? Answer me, Peach. Does my big dick feel good inside your guts?”

“Ye-yes,” you sobbed, “Let-let me…”

“Let you ‘what’? Ride me?” He chuckled when you eagerly nodded, “You’ll get to once you’re filled up.” 

Despite his words, San kept rocking as Wooyoung continued wetting your hole. “Stretch it for him,” San whispered to you, “Put your pretty hand down there and open it up. His claws will hurt too much.”

“Oh, she can handle a little claw tip,” Wooyoung dismissed, but you cried out when his claw went down your crack. 

“No,” San said sternly. “Go ahead, I got you,” he said to you gently, “I’m holding you. I got you.” 

His strength was immeasurable. You lifted a shaky hand to reach behind you. Wooyoung’s saliva was thick and sticky, working like a lubricant rather than spit. You moaned at the softness of your fingers tracing your whole ass hole. Pushing one digit inside, it was torture. Your finger didn’t go deep enough to bring full pleasure, but enough to open you up for Wooyoung. 

“Good girl,” San cooed, nuzzling your neck. “Put another finger…Yes, like that…You’re doing such a good job, Peach.” He licked your neck, burying his nose in the crook. “Your pussy is gripping me so tight, and letting me inside this deep. I bet that ass is just as good.”

“It looks even better,” Wooyoung sighed, mesmerized by your fingers stuffed in your ass. 

He removed your fingers roughly, and put his tip to the clenching hole. “Hold tight, sweetheart,” San warned, “Take a deep breath and-there you go…Good, good, just let him go further.”

Your eyes rolled back at the new pressure building behind you. San held you open as Wooyoung sank inside little by little. You couldn’t move. The feeling of them both inside you left you paralyzed between them. Your nails dug into San’s shoulders, your face burying into his long, thick neck as you trembled. The pair started slowly, letting your body get accustomed to them at the same time. Wooyoung held you by the hair, losing his own restraint with you wrapped around him. San, on the other hand, rocked upwards gently. You swore their tips each found your g-spot on either side and hit it in unison. 

“Ride me,” San instructed kindly when you were deemed ready for it, “Go as fast or as slow as you want. Just being in you makes me happy.”

“And you want the Alpha to be happy with you, Little Peach,” Wooyoung groaned, losing control as he grabbed your ass and started thrusting faster. “It comes with lots of perks.” 

“Don’t be shy,” San said, grabbing the tit he could reach. “That’s right. Fuck me, sweetheart. Fuck me however you like.” 

You let loose. Leaning upwards, you started bouncing on the two cocks pulsing in you. It was overpowering pleasure that blinded you to sense. Breasts bouncing in front of his face, San’s hot tongue flicked at your sensitive nipples. Your ass rippling on his hips, Wooyoung kept pinching and grabbing the round cheeks slamming on him. Your orgasm sat at the edge, tempting you forward. This was incredible. How could you want to fight this? 

“Shit…This was not….”

“I think our Peach is going to come now,” Wooyoung said, grabbing your waist but letting you control the pace. 

“She is,” San moaned, pinching your nipple between two fingers. “I can feel it every time she goes to my knot.” 

‘Lycan knots feel incredible. You should sink down onto it and feel it for yourself.’ 

You didn’t refuse. Settling yourself on San’s stomach, you fully sat on the ball at the end of his cock. It kept him inside. You swore you could barely move off it. Mind turning blank, you grinded on the thick dick throbbing in you. 

“She’s sitting on my knot, oh god, she’s sitting…” San huffed quickly, chest rising and falling from this new feeling. 

“Hey,” Wooyoung griped, “Take mine too.”

He plunged his own “knot” in your ass, causing you to scream in pleasure. Your climax came hard and fast. Cum coated San’s cock, leaking from your entrance and trickling onto the balls underneath. A distinct heat radiated in your ass, Wooyoung’s rabid thrusts being small and erratic as he finished inside you. San doesn’t finish. Your tight cunt shuddering around his knot felt too good to stop. 

‘Don’t let them. Keep going. It feels so good and lycans can go for a long time,’ the voice said. ‘It really is the best. I want you to enjoy yourself. It's why I had Mingi take the pain away, so you can have fun at least.”

“Can I have her cunt now, Alpha?” Wooyoung asked, sounding more subservient than friendly. 

“Can he, Peach?” San asked you in a shaky voice. 

“Yes, yes, yes!”

 Forcing yourself off San, you laid on the ground as Wooyoung stuffed himself in your pussy. On his fists, body keeping your legs up in the air, he started quick and fast. You felt his cum leaking from your ass, his balls getting wet from the constant smacking against it. 

“Open up for me,” San said, putting his wet cock to your mouth. 

Inverted, San took control right away. His balls hanging in front of you, you became encompassed by his musky scent and warmth. Being trapped under them, used however they wanted, you nearly came again. 

‘Let it go. I like seeing you cum all over a thick cock.’ 

You didn’t question the voice. San’s length stifled your screams, and Wooyoung held onto your shaking arms. When his knot stuck him deep inside, you lost all control. San’s constant strings of precum streamed from your mouth to your cheeks. His balls hit your nose as he went faster, stuffing your throat to suffocate you slightly before pulling away and letting you breathe. You’re barely given time before he goes back inside. You came right then. Legs far apart, shaking and trembling, you couldn’t stop yourself. Instead of finishing inside, Wooyoung withdrew to stroke himself over you. Soon, the hot strings felt hotter on your cold skin, spraying as far as your breasts. Is it normal for lycans to have such a short time between orgasms? 

“My turn.”

San roughly pulled you from Wooyoung and onto his lap. You steadied yourself on him as best as you could, legs around his waist and arms around his neck. He stood up, lifting you several feet from the ground, and started bouncing you on him on his own. His muscled, furry body became the only source of warmth in the cold forest. You held onto the back of his head, eyes closed tight as he pushed his knot to your entrance in every thrust. Wooyoung closed the gap between you, holding onto your thighs as he helped his alpha keep you in place. 

“Cum in me,” you moaned in his pointed ear. “Fill my little cunt with all your cum…empty yourself in me, please…”

“I will,” he said, moving you faster. “You’re already dripping. You’ll be gushing when we’re done with you.”

This promise tightened your hold on him. As promised, San let out grunts through gritted teeth as thick come pours in you. This alone makes you cum a third time, screaming into the air as you pathetically rutted on him. 

‘More…Don’t you want more, YN? You look so hot like this. Please say you want more.”

Wooyoung took San’s place, humping upwards to your full cunt. The pair started taking turns in you, interchanging their paces to keep you moaning. When they finally had their fill, you were sweaty and exhausted but elated. Your forehead pressed to San’s, you took deep breaths to steady your racing heart and shaking limbs. 

“Fuck, she’s amazing,” Wooyoung cheered, wiping himself with his loin cloth. “She’s not human. There’s no way.”

“I know what’s got you going, Peach,” San said in your ear, wet nose rubbing your neck. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it between us. You’re mine now. All mine.” 

He carried you in his arms like a child, not bothered by your stickiness dripping to his thighs. The security of his hold reminded you of a bed. You felt yourself falling asleep against him. His fur might as well be a fur blanket a client gifted you, comfortable and keeping you warm on a cold night. San occasionally rubbed his cheek to yours, affectionate and gentle as he carried you through the forest towards the firelight. The smell of cooking meat reached you in the wind. Savory and thick, your stomach rumbled. You heard the sounds of revelry around you as you entered the wolf’s camp. High howls, laughter and chatter mixed with the drums playing in a corner. 

“Maybe I’ve been blessed,” San said, low enough that only you heard him. “The Lunar Gods wanted to give me a gift to bless my victories, and put you in my path.” The flat on his hand rubbed your back, only enticing you to sleep more. “I’ll have to give a special offering for this generosity.” 

“Did you say something, Brother?” Wooyoung asked over the noise. 

“She’ll stay in my den,” San replied. “Go get her some clothes, and I’ll bathe her. I can smell that corpse under her sweetness.” 

Could he really? You didn’t care. 

‘You did so well, YN.’

“Here you go, Little Peach,” San said, laying you down on a bed of furs and blankets. 

His musky scent surrounded you. Not off putting in the slightest, you rolled onto your side to find more warmth. Suddenly, smaller, hairless hands began running a cloth over your stickier parts. Your eyes fell shut underneath the tender touch, budging to let them clean you thoroughly. Another pair of hands smoothed over your hair, pulling it back from your face as they laid your head on their lap. Human. Did San have other human slaves who now tended to you? This was answered as you drifted to sleep at last. 

“Cute little peach,” San said, running fingers over your sex, cleaning you softly. You let a soft moan at the delicate touch. “Sleep now. We can play more in the morning.”

‘Believe me, you'll be wanting it too.’

****

The Undead skull crushed under his boot, a pile of ash and bone grinded into the earth. Hongjoong surveyed the battlefield, the woodland road where his men were ambushed. Undead soldiers laid in pieces, some putting themselves back together and others completely gone. Lycans only used their power, not their brains. 

 "Where is she?" He asked one of the soldiers. Only his torso and arms remained, and he leaned against a tree. 

 He knew his appearance shocked the soldier. "Who, my lord?" he asked shakily. 

 "The captive," he answered impatiently. "The woman you've enjoyed watching your commander fuck every night." 

 "I-I don't know, my lord. She disappeared during the battle-"

Hongjoong lazily shot a ball of ice into his head, the decomposing skull falling off. He scanned the area for any sign of you. The cage Mingi kept you in was empty on its side under a tree. A shiver ran down his spine when he thought about you being in that cage, humiliated and embarrassed by the show the men enjoyed. You never liked public stuff. A little dance or kissing was fine, but sex happened upstairs. Mingi might have been the nicest of them, coming to you when you needed it, but he did it for personal gain. 

 "My lord, I knew you would come."

 Mingi's head sat on his desk while his body and hands remained missing in action. Hongjoong glared at him, already imagining what he could do to that head. 

 "Where is she?" He asked. 

 "She ran off," he said. "The Choi pack attacked us when we made camp here. They must have taken her.”

“You better hope they did.”

A white flash caught the corner of his eye and he spotted Mingi's left hand at his feet. 

“My lord…” Mingi watched him pick up the hand and snap his fingers. Instead of bright orange, the flames flickered blue. “Wait…My lord, don't. I'm sorry. I didn't do anything she didn't want.”

“I'm aware,” he said, “But you still touched her.”

“My lord!” 

 "You knew she belonged to me and decided to help yourself to her. How can you expect to achieve a goal when you do such things?"

Hanging the hand over the flame, the frost began at the wriggling fingertips before spreading upwards. Hongjoong watched the digits gradually freeze in front of him until it was completely still. 

“My hand…”

“You can find another one.”

Throwing it to the ground, Hongjoong stomped on the frozen hand. It crushed into dozens of pieces, blood clotting right away at the breakages. 

“Also, I'm cancelling leaves,” Hongjoong grunted, fixing stray hairs. “Nobody is going in or out of the afterlife.”

“But she ran away! My lord, she ran!”

He needed to find you. 

*****

You could sleep forever, wherever ‘here’ was. Layers of animal furs covered you from the cold, and a soft mattress molded to the curves of your body. The faint crackling of a fire came from somewhere nearby; the scent of hearty bacon immediately caught in your nose and rumbled your stomach. Home. You’re back in the Rooster’s Nest, recovering from a night of entertaining patrons and dancing. Yoongi is in the kitchen cooking breakfast for everyone. Namjoon is cleaning up the bar for the morning crowd. The other girls are still asleep or starting to stir. You groaned softly as you uncurled from your position and rolled onto your back, keeping the blankets up to your neck. Yes, everything that happened was a terrible nightmare, and you’d finally woken up. 

A gentle hand brushed through your hair, a thumb pressing down the side to cup your face. You rubbed your cheek into it, surprised that Vernon stayed the night. 

“I thought you'd left,” you said groggily, leaning into the hand. 

“I never left, sweetness.” 

Your eyes flew open. Above you was not Vernon's soft, round face but a sharper, squarish one. Small eyes smiled at you sweetly, two dimples poking into his cheeks. You instantly moved away from him, subjecting yourself to the slight chill reaching your hot skin. You were about to curse at him when you saw the claw necklace hanging to his broad chest. 

“Morning, Peach,” he said, “You slept like a baby. You didn't make a peep.”

“Who are you?” 

“Oh, sorry, I didn't really introduce myself. I'm San.”

'Well, at least it's San who found you.'

“You're San? But, I thought you were a wolf?”

“I was in my wolf form last night,” he moved closer, “I tend to be more…feral when I'm in my lycan form. I hope I didn't scratch you too much?” 

“No, you didn't,” you replied. “Who was the other wolf then?”

“My half-brother, Wooyoung,” he answered. “He's getting you breakfast since we figured you'd be hungry when you woke up. You put in a lot of work for us,” he laid beside you on the bed, “It's only fair we take care of our special pet.”

You suppress a moan when he grabs your thigh to put over his hip. Through his pants, you felt his prominent bulge poke you. He wasn't hard, you realized, but just that big naturally. Hands running up and down your back, San brought you in for a light, brief kiss. You held onto his shoulder to keep yourself from grinding against him. 

“Who gave you that mark?” he asked, pecking your lips. 

“A witch,” you answered. 

“She must've been jealous,” he said, “To put such a curse on you.”

“Her husband was one of my regulars. Instead of blaming him for his cheating, she got angry with me,” you replied, bitterness in your voice. “Now, I'm stuck like this until Lord Kim comes for me.”

“Lord Kim? Why would he come for you?”

“He says I belong to him. He keeps saying he'll come get me, but I don't know when. You'd think a demon wouldn't have a problem travelling anywhere.”

“It's not as easy as it looks, okay?” 

“Hm, that's disappointing,” San frowned. “I was hoping to keep you. I suppose I'll have to give you over if I want to avoid my entire pack suffering for it.” 

“Yeah, sorry to burst your bubble.”

“No skin off my back,” he assured you. “I have plenty already.”

Naturally, he did. Everyone did, it seemed. 

“But hey, let's not dwell on that for now,” San said, taking your wrist and bringing you back to him. “We can talk about something else until Wooyoung comes with your breakfast.”

“Like what?”

“Where are you from,” he shrugged, “Where is your family from? Are they magicfolk? What did you do before you were cursed? You know, that kind of stuff. If you’re going to be here for a bit, I should at least know some things about you.”

You supposed you could humor him. Slipping back into his arms, you let him rub and kiss you as you answer his questions. His touch soothes your dread somehow. His body, hard and firm, feels real under your skin and in your arms. San’s human form is significantly smaller than his massive lycan appearance, which you enjoyed just as much. It felt strangely nice being cuddled this way. Mingi always left your cage when he finished. Seonghwa allowed you to sleep in his bed, but more like a dog than a lover. Yunho kissed your forehead, then left you alone. 

“I wouldn't leave. You know that.”

You learned things about San as well: he was the alpha of his pack, The Choi Pack. Wooyoung is his half-brother from the same father, the former Alpha. They live east of the mountains, which is their territory. Tonight is the first night of the Lunar Festival, a week-long celebration that ends on the full moon. He explained, as you tried not grinding on his muscled thigh, that their powers are strongest on that night. He makes note to mention that their fertility strengthens too. 

“But, it wouldn’t work on you,” he said, putting his thigh between both of yours and giving the slightest bit of pressure. “Not that it would stop me from filling you with as much cum as possible,” he smirked when you held back a whimper. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a human take my knot like that before. It didn’t hurt?”

“No.”

“Not at all?”

“No.”

He pressed his lips to your ear as he asked, “Does that mean I can put it in you again? 

“Yes,” you said without hesitation. 

Seeing this, San sat up against the pillows, legs spread and let you straddle his thigh. This put you directly on it which brought out an immediate reaction.

“Get it ready for me then,” San breathed, one hand on your hip. 

He leaned back in the bed, simply admiring you as you rolled your hips in his lap. Your need grew the longer you rocked against the hard muscle underneath. You could feel every part of you starting to wake as the mark burned. The sweet friction of your bare clit on his thigh sent you further down. Your body ached to feel his hands on you, massaging wherever he could while you continued. 

“A horny little peach, aren't you?” San sneered, taking your nipple between his fingers. “I'm very lucky to have such a lovely little thing always wanting me,” he pecked your neck, thumb trailing to your lower lip. “I'm going to have so much fun with you,” he pushed two fingers past your lips, mouth falling open when you sucked them. 

“I can't wait,” you whined, rolling your hard clit on his thigh. 

He purposefully flexed it so you whimpered against his shoulder. Everything inside you yearned for more. Even with your stomach rumbling, you cared more about the orgasm building in your groin. You felt the exact point where the most relief came, and started moving just to that side. When San moved forward to wrap his lips around your nipple, you nearly came right then. His tongue whirled around the hard center, flicking it every so often and giving it a full suck before popping it from his mouth. You noticed the bulge growing behind his loincloth, the thin fabric doing nothing to hold him back. One hand sneaking down to San's middle, you groaned feeling the heaviness in your palm. 

“Keep rubbing it like that,” he groaned, head falling back when you gave it a gentle squeeze. “Yes, just like that…” He brought you in for another kiss, “You’re dripping all over me, sweetheart,” he moaned, “It makes you wet so easily.”

“Ye-yes,” you whined. 

“Take it out and put it in you,” he rubbed down your sides and kissed your neck. “I want your first orgasm of the day on my dick.”

Lifting the flap easily, you shivered once his thick shaft touched your lips. Bucking your hips over the head, you moaned whenever your clit grazed it. The thickness spreads your wetness around, occasionally pushing to your entrance as if threatening to slide inside. You shuddered every time he did this, wanting him inside right away. Finally, you aligned his cock with your body and sunk downwards. The stretch did not burn at all. You only felt immense pleasure force your climax closer. His knot was not as prominent in his human form, but you could still feel it threaten to push through every time you reached it. San held you in his arms, kissing wherever he could and grabbing the buttocks in his hands as you rode him. You swore he shoved right up to your stomach, bulging slightly like the previous night. It was a sensation you couldn't get enough of. 

“Can-Can we just…” you could barely get the words out. 

“‘Can we’ what, baby?”

“Can we-e do this all da-day?” 

San chuckled in his moan, “Yes, we can. We can go for as long as you want. I love this too much to stop at just one time.”

"One plus to this is watching you getting fucked like crazy. I can't wait to see you and get my turn."

His thumb on your clit, sliding up and down in time with you, you came right away. Hands gripping his broad shoulders, hips bouncing in his lap, you called out his name in the air in every moan. The blissful moment barely passed before San had you on your back, legs to his shoulders as he charged into you. It was the best feeling. It couldn't be so bad, being this alpha's play thing. He was nice. He hadn't hit or chained you up. Plus, he'd give his dick to you whenever you asked. 

You can't. You can't let yourself get that far. 

The both of you were limp, sweaty messes by the time you finished. The hunger in your stomach overcame your arousal now, demanding food of some kind. 

“Wooyoung will bring you something,” San assured you, kissing your forehead. “You can just relax for now. I'll get you some warm clothes so you're not too cold.” 

“Thank you,” you said sleepily. 

But, you didn't sleep. You laid on your side, cuddled to a bundle of furs, and felt sadness sink in your stomach. The sinking feeling of helplessness filled your insides like bricks. Your journey was meant to be easy: you'd get to the small port town, follow the trails up to the mountains, then go see Lord Kim. You never foresaw the various obstacles or misfortunes that came your way. It seemed you kept going from one frying pan into another, eventually making your way to Lord Kim, the crackling fire. You'd gone along believing you could make it. You're not an explorer or a fighter. You were an entertainer from down south where the sun shined and the air was cool. You thought about the possibility of never meeting Lord Kim, and ending up caving into the curse. San would certainly have his fun with you then. You'd have no mind to resist; your body now able to withstand the pain, you could go even longer than before. You didn’t want that. You didn't want your life to become a swirling vortex of lust and pleasure. Hearing that you might never make it to the mountain saddened you. 

But, you couldn't give up. Not now. You had made it this far; you could go the rest of the way. Waiting around in Kim seemed to only bring more problems. You'd have to strike out on your own this time. You only needed some provisions and a map. When San returned with woolen and fur clothes for you, you cleaned yourself up as best you could and slipped into them. He had to have some kind of map of the area. It is his domain. You only needed to find it before he realized you'd scampered off. 

“Don't. Just stay there. I'm coming to you, I swear.”

“Hush. I'm done waiting on you,” you hissed under your breath. 

“You're so damn impatient. Don't leave. That part of the forest is dangerous. You could get seriously hurt.”

“Like you care, " you said as San excused himself. 

“I do. So much. San knows about you and will keep you safe."

“Here you go,” Wooyoung finally appeared, grinning and holding a plate of hot bacon and eggs. He placed it on a table nearby, and looked over at you. “Don't you look cute in that?” he asked, seeing your fur cloak, leather vest, thick shirt and wool pants. “The look suits you so well.”

“Thanks,” you said, shaking off Kim's voice. 

You immediately grabbed the plate and dug into the meal. Your hunger came back a million times stronger, your stomach almost feeling sick. You gorged on the heavy ration of crisp bacon, letting the savory meat fill your mouth and gullet before being washed down with fresh milk. The eggs, fluffy and light, were hot and nearly burned your tongue, but you kept eating. 

“Hey, slow down,” Wooyoung chuckled at your greediness. “You'll choke inhaling the food like that.” He watched you  keep scarfing down the food. “I guess it's been a while since you ate anything proper.”

“Yeah,” you said, tearing into a hunk of honeyed bread. 

You noticed a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Mingi should've taken care of you better,” he said, “If he wanted you to be happy.”

“Nobody wanted me to be happy,” you said, remembering each man bitterly. “Seonghwa wanted to make me a slave. Yunho wanted to make me a baby machine, and Mingi used me to get what he wanted. Your brother is just another man looking to use me for his own pleasure.”

It angered you now. You stabbed the last piece of bacon, shoving it into your mouth. With the mark on your back, he'd get that compliant slave if you stayed here long enough. You needed to find an escape. It seems like a big village. You could sneak away in the middle of the night. 

“That's literally the dumbest idea you've had since you left home.”

“My brother isn't like that,” Wooyoung said defensively. 

Yet, you had no chance of getting out of San's tent without anyone noticing you. Staring at Wooyoung, you caught the insecurity right away. Not as large or powerful as his brother, he likely stood in the shadows as a Beta. It made you wonder. 

“He literally said that as he was bringing me here. He said I'd belong to nobody but him. I'd be all his,” you retorted. “I'm not going to be anybody's slave. Not now, not ever again. I'm my own person, and I'll be damned if I let someone get in the way again.”

The words climbed under his skin. A deep breath, he chose his next words like a killer chooses a knife. “You have no chance of getting to that mountain.” He saw your stunned face, “Yeah, I'm not an idiot. I heard you two talking. You have the Hand of Lust stuck to your back. In a week or so, you'll be nothing but a horny nympho who will do what we tell her. You think by getting to Kim you'll be safe? Ha, keep dreaming, honey. Even if he did come for you, you'll be his little plaything. He'll stick you in a cage and fuck you whenever he wanted. Trust me, you're better off here."

“I don't care,” you spat. “I'd honestly rather die than belong to you."

Wooyoung moved faster than you'd ever seen before. His hand around your throat, he forced you to look up at him. Riling him up seemed easier than expected. He pressed his thumb to your lips, swiping along them gently as he pushed between them. That sudden burning in your back returned, and you knew what he had planned. You forced yourself not to acknowledge the pain, the only one you could still feel. As his fingers gently squeezed your throat, he leaned down towards you. 

“That can be arranged if you're a bad girl,” he growled, the wolf lingering in his voice. “You might be pretty,” he slid his thumb over your tongue, “But make no mistake, if you disobey us….if you refuse and fight us….we will tear you apart, understand?”

“Bastard,” you said back, even with his digit in your mouth. Your thighs clenched at his firm tone. "Your brother won't let you hurt me. Lord Kim will kill you for hurting me." 

“Answer me,” he said, ignoring you and smacking your cheek, “Do you understand?”

“If he hits you again, he's not going to have a hand to smack with.”

“I'm not yours,” you replied when he removed his thumb. "And that drives you nuts, doesn't it? The fact that even though you helped capture me, you still don't own me or enjoy me when you wish. Have you asked your Alpha if you can be alone with me?"

"I don't need his permission to do anything. I'm the Beta around here; that makes me second in command."

"It makes you his bitch."

Tossing your plate aside, Wooyoung forced you onto the bed. Your sex immediately throbbed the moment his crotch brushed into it. Breathing heavily, your body braced itself for his entry. Wooyoung quickly untied his loincloth, and you saw him steadily growing hard. Lust burned in his eyes as he grabbed the collar of your shirt and tore it in two. In a few tears, Wooyoung uncovered your naked form again. 

“So pretty,” he groaned, roughly grabbing your breast, “And mine.”

“In your dreams, maybe.”

He bent down over you, lips pecking at your nipples until they tightened on his lips and then swiping his tongue across it. He gave the erect center bites that made you hold back a wince. His rough hands cupped both breasts, squeezing hard as he licked and bit them. You tried squirming from his mouth, but he stuck to you like a leech. Soon, his hands pinned your wrists on the sides of your head; you made the futile attempt to struggle but his grip did not weaken. Make him feel strong. Plenty of clients back home liked a bit of push back. You found it a bit sick, but they willingly paid extra and never went too far.  

His hard body between your thighs grinded each time you wriggled, so then his moan vibrated on your supple breasts. Wooyoung’s tongue started flicking faster over the peaks, swirling around the most sensitive part to make you whimper. Each swipe sent nerves down to your core, stoking the flames in your mark as your arousal grew.

“These are so fucking nice,” Wooyoung groaned, giving one nipple a particularly firm suck. “And they're mine to touch whenever I want. "

“Your brother's, you mean,” you whined.

“You’ll change your tune when you get my dick, Peach,” he snuck one hand between the both of you and cupped your sex. It throbbed right on his fingers; moist, slick folds wet the long digits automatically, and your entrance clenched for one of them to enter you. “Mm, see? Your little pussy already wants me. She knows who she wants more,” he said, switching sides as he played with your nipple and your clit. “You won't want my brother when you've had me in you. He'll see that and let me keep you instead. Not even Kim will want you. You'll be my toy, my whore...All mine...Not to be shared or taken from me… "

He plunged two fingers into you right away. Your back arched against the pleasure surging from his fingers, and your hips met his hand each time. His strokes deep and fast, the tips pushed right into the spot that had you seeing stars. It was pure heaven.

"You'll be my bitch," he growled. "I'm going to chain you up in my tent," his fingers changed angles and you whined, "And fuck you whenever I want. You'll call me 'Master' and obey my every command. "  

"Wooyoung was always a little prick."

"I won't," you seethed, the effect being ruined when he laps at your clit. 

"Yes, you will," he said firmly, "Or I toss you in the pig pen and let the others have you. Trust me, slut, my kin won't be as merciful as me." He swirled his tongue around it, giving it a few flicks. "They won't eat you out like this. They won't prepare or be nice to you. They'll fuck you like the pathetic hole you are, and if you resist? Ha, they'll show you what happens to disobedient pigs."

Frustration and relief combined within you, and you fell into a whirlwind of desire and need. If you push enough buttons, he'll send you to this pen, and you can get closer to escaping. Your legs spread out of habit, as if your body gave him more access to you. You shouldn’t give into him so easily. It wasn’t right. You should try stopping him before it gets worse. But, it felt too good to let go of now. 

“A totally reasonable excuse to stay where you are and not go into the dangerous deadly woods at night.”

“That’s it,” Wooyoung groaned, “Just like that. It doesn’t matter if you cum. You'll keep going no matter how many times I finish you.”He sneered, "I imagine you in that pen now. You won't say no. You'll be begging for it soon, and my kin love an obedient pig."

Quaking underneath him, you couldn’t help it.Like a bomb, your hips bucked up and down as you finished all over his hand. You could barely control your volume with the way it hit you so suddenly. In the very middle of it, Wooyoung removed his fingers and shoved his cock deep inside. This elevated your orgasm, and you swore he dragged it out on purpose. When it finally subsided, Wooyoung lifted you from the bed and kept you in his grasp. Standing up, you could only hold on as the beta wolf pounded upwards into you. The new angle, combined with your clit lightly brushing his pubic bone, had you moaning into the crook of his neck.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he growled, “Even with all the dick you’ve had.”

“Woo-Woo-Y-young,” you said his name through gritted teeth, “Pl-please…You-your cum…”

“You’ll get my cum soon, pig,” he replied, holding you in place as he began bouncing you on his hips. “Be a good slut and use that cunt to milk it out of me…Yeah, like that…make it nice and tight for me…”

It’s all you wanted like the other times. The mere thought of his cum spilling in every hole made you purposefully squeeze your walls to tighten them. You needed to feel that warmth spray over them; you craved the sensation of him twitching within you, spurting his load before forcing himself into a different hole. You’d let him take whichever one he wanted. You only wanted more of him.

Soon, Wooyoung’s approaching orgasm had him forcing you back onto the bed. On your front, he put your hands behind your back and pinned them down. The slapping of his hips into you came in a single rhythm, his growls and grunts coming in time with them. You quivered, unable to maintain focus as that delicious feeling finally came. Wooyoung’s thrusts became haphazard and frantic as he reached his high, forcing himself to plant his seed firmly inside you. He grumbled incoherent words, panting in each push until he’d pumped every drop. But, you knew that wasn’t the end. Once he released your hands, you placed yourself firmly on the bed and started pushing into him. Wooyoung laughed at your pathetic attempts to get more. He didn’t move a muscle. He only laid hard smacks to your ass cheeks and occasionally spread them to drool over the middle. 

"What a good piglet you are, " he cooed, feeling up your back. "You know your place now. You catch on quick." He bent down to your ear, "I'm better than my brother. Say it, bitch. Tell me my dick is better and you only want mine. If you do, you get a nice load of cum."

You held back the words. A harsh smack to your ass nearly brought them out, but you refrained. He took your hair and yanked it back hard. 

 "Say it."

 You didn't. A refusal will upset him more, and he will get you out of here. 

 "Say it, slut!" 

You eagerly continued pumping him until you felt his grip on your hair tighten, his grunts turning into whining pants. 

"Say-say it, bitch, or no cum for you."

"Your dick is better!" You planted yourself firmly on the bed and started moving faster, hearing his soft panting. "It's so much better! I don't want anyone else!"

He laughed through gritted teeth as he filled you a second time. You kept yourself flushed to him, clenching and unclenching to entice more out of him. The satisfaction made you only crave more. 

“That’s enough for now, Peach,” Wooyoung panted, resting on his haunches as he took deep breaths.

“But I want more…” you said, grabbing his softening length to stroke. “Just one more, please?”

“You’ll get plenty more later on.” He swatted your hand away, and started tying his loincloth again.

“I thought you wanted me?” You spread your buttocks for him, “Don’t you want to fill this up too?”

“Later,” he said more sternly, spanking the very middle and causing you to moan.

He tried moving away from you, but you grabbed his hand. You’d moved to put it on your pussy before he pulled away. 

“Hmph, maybe this curse won’t be a good idea after all,” he mused. 

“Didn’t you want a nympho slave?” you asked him, toying with your nipples to entice him. “You know, one who fucks you whenever you want?”

“Yes, when I want to,” he started walking to the entrance. “That’s the whole point of the ‘slave’ thing. You do what I say, not the other way around.”

You left the bed, legs wobbling, to pull him back to you. Lips kissing up his broad chest to his neck, you started grabbing at the strings of his cloth again. You grinded against him, already moaning with need. Wooyoung grabbed both your hands and shoved you away.

“I said ‘no’,” he said, “Now, figure out how to sort this out or I’ll make you.”

“Psh, whatever,” you scoffed. This was it. “You aren’t as big like your brother anyways. You probably couldn’t go as long, so you’re giving up.”

“Darling, don't antagonize him.”

But, you needed to. 

Wooyoung glared, “I’d watch that mouth if I were you, Peach, or you might end up somewhere you don’t want to be.”

“Hey, don’t take your insecurities out on me, wolf-boy.”

“You little bitch!”

He grabbed a handful of your hair and dragged you outside. In full view of those around him, Wooyoung led you from the largest tent through the camp. Lycans in and out of their wolf forms stopped to stare at their Alpha’s younger brother pulling his new toy past them. Nobody spoke up. Nobody questioned Wooyoung’s angry glare or heard your frightened mewling. The arousal still burned, and the little tugs to your scalp made your need worse. You already knew what he had planned, it aligned perfectly with yours.

“I’ll teach you what happens when you disrespect me,” he scowled, bringing you over to a large pen. "You think I was playing when I said you'd go into the pen? You think I was bluffing?"

Bordered by a wooden gate, you saw a group of men and women in various states of dress huddled together in the mud. Disobedient slaves suffering a cold, dirty punishment. Low howls and yipping came from the lycans mounting the humans locked up in the pen. Bodies human and wolf rutted into their chosen "pigs" taking them against the fence or in the dirt like animals. Some of the slaves moaned in enjoyment while others cried from the size and duration. The lycans showed no mercy or signs of slowing down. 

“Here,” Wooyoung opened the pen and tossed you inside. You fell sideways into the cold, muddy ground. “You want to get fucked like an animal? Now you will. Have fun. Maybe if I’m merciful, I’ll come back for you.”

“I'm not going to just cut off his hand now.”

It took you a few tries before you could stand in the slippery mud. When you finally did, there’d been no point in wiping the dirt from your naked skin. You became aware of the groups nearby surveying you. Shame and fear washed over you, and you turned away from them to face a corner of the pen. The sounds of the others being used sent shivers down your spine. While your original plan had worked, you didn’t know what to do now. With so many eyes on you, it was only a matter of time before you were “mounted” by someone. It’d be hard to escape now with the overcast skies still blue and grey. You would have to wait until much later, and San might have discovered your fate by then and taken you back inside. 

It seemed you’d have to play the waiting game again.

*****

“This was a nice one. The right amount of tightness and so compliant already.”

“I don’t know. I like a little bit of fight in ‘em, you know?”

The two lycans pulled up their loin cloths as they stood. You were on your hands and knees, the strain having locked you in place the entire time and feeling dazed. The salty taste in your mouth and the stickiness of your thighs stopped bothering you long ago. Your arousal finally satiated, you felt nothing but the tiredness of the work. 

It hadn’t taken long for the lycans to notice a new face in their slave pen. The two on either end of you were only the most recent in a line of wolves. The issue was you’d loved each and every time, constantly begging for more of whatever they could give. News of your stamina and endurance made its way across the camp like wildfire, and soon you had nearly every lycan in heat in your cunt. Whether in their wolf-forms or human ones, you didn’t care. Their long cocks and warm cunts became the only thing you wanted.

"San will come for you tomorrow. Just stay there."

 “Is it my turn yet?” A young wolf said from nearby, white with orange down his back.

“The pen’s closed for the night, junior,” one of the wolves said. “Come back tomorrow. We gotta feed them now.”

“Aw, man! Come on, I got here just in time! I wanna try the new one too!”

“You can try her tomorrow.”

You could take another one. The words would’ve escaped your mouth if the tiredness hadn’t overcome your senses. Slumping into the ground, you didn’t notice how dark it’d gotten until you saw the faint glow of torches crop up around you. The wolves beside you left the pen, and you forced yourself to stand. Dirt caked on parts of your body, you couldn’t get the musty earth and lycan stench off you. The running fountain in the corner was mainly drinking water from what one girl told you, so you used the same ragged cloth the others did. Hardly sanitary, but how else could you get clean? Maybe the smell will help against predators when you leave. You still had to go even if you could barely feel your legs and might pass out any moment.

“Feeding time, piggies,” a woman helping carrying large buckets came to the edge of the pen. “Come and get it!”

Scraps of meat and vegetables went flying into the ground. You watched as the others scrambled for the food, fighting each other for the largest pieces and shoving what they grabbed into their mouths. Timidly, you took a mangled leaf of lettuce that landed by your feet, and munched on it quietly. You watched the group devour bits of food, pity taking over. This is what they’d resorted to. It scared you once you remembered that you might be the same way once the curse took over. You grabbed tiny pieces of meat that fell into the muddier parts, trying to ignore the dirt clinging to them. You’d need energy for the journey. All you needed to do was wait until the torches burned out and all the wolves went to sleep.

San had, surprisingly, not come looking for you and neither did Wooyoung. That was a good sign. That meant they’d likely show up tomorrow morning, ask if you “learned your lesson” and take you back to their tent. You had until sunrise to get as far from this camp as you could. Having no idea where in the forest you are, you wouldn’t know where to go but it was better than being here. 

“Do not go anywhere. Please. Stay there.”

The other slaves took up various spots around the pen, typically near the burning torches to soak in the heat, but you stayed in the far corner. You let the night shield you as it grew darker.

"You will freeze to death out there."

"This curse will kill me anyway."

"No, it won't. I won't let that happen. You're more likely to die from the elements than the curse. Don't be stupid. Stay there. "

You needed to get moving. 

“Here,” a small voice said from somewhere nearby.

You turned to see one of the girls holding a large woolen blanket. She was a skinny thing with golden hair tied from her oval face. You wouldn’t have thought much of her if it hadn’t been for her eyes. In the dimness of the torchlight, you saw her blank expression and wide eyes. They looked glossy and expressionless. You’d think she might’ve been blind if it weren’t for her expression and monotone voice.

“You need to stay warm,” she said, giving you the blanket. “Your journey is going to be long.”

“Thanks?”

“Since you insist on going…”

Then she walked away, straight-backed and stiff before taking a seat far from you. No time to question anything, you pulled the blanket around your body. A tight knot to keep it in place, you felt secure enough to move around in it. It wasn’t much, but it beat being fully nude. Glancing outside the pen to the rest of the camp, you saw the pack starting to douse out fires and retreat into their various dwellings. No guards remained posted to watch over the pen. San must feel confident his slaves would be too afraid to escape. Not you. You wouldn’t stay here and wait for the curse to turn you.

When the last of the torches burned out, the quietness of the night took over. With only the moonlight to guide you, you gazed around the pen one last time. The others remained soundlessly sleeping, likely just as tired from being put to use as you were. The lights in the camp went out long ago, and you didn’t see any sign of movement. You caught sight of San's tent, which was dark and silent. Good. No chance of him coming for you. Carefully, you stood up against the cold coming from downwind. Not wanting to risk going through the front of the pen and disturbing someone, you put your foot on the bottom of the fence and hoisted yourself up over it. 

“YN, don't.”

The lack of security concerned you for a moment. This was too easy. You expected something to go wrong as you landed on your feet and headed quietly to the tree line. Any moment, some random lycan will come out of his tent, spot you in the darkness, and run after you. You’ll be taken back to San, who may find a worse punishment than the pen, then lose your chance at escape. Adrenaline urged you to bolt for the dark forest, though you knew it’d make noise and wake someone.

Even past the threshold of trees, you kept your footsteps careful and quiet. The moonlight guiding you from above, you listened for the sound of an alarm, or a wolf howling or  someone coming up behind you. Everything became louder in the darkness. You felt your way past trees, sliding through inches of dead leaves and twigs, and past thickets of dry bushes. Winter must be closing in or you are very far north. Your bones and muscles felt stiff against the chilly air, your skin freezing at the touch, but you kept moving. To stop might end up killing you. Teeth chattering, jaw clenched, and arms stuck around your middle, you wished that girl gave you more layers.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been walking before you saw a glowing light up ahead. The moon high in the sky, it must be the middle of the night, possibly creeping into the morning. Between tall tree trunks and bushes, glimpses of a campfire broke through them. The thought of warmth made you more desperate for it. Though, you knew better than to approach the camp too closely. Friend or foe, exposing yourself to them brazenly will get you more trouble than you needed.

“-And I says to the guy, I says to him ‘hey, listen pal, if you can’t move these rocks, then I’mma have to go to somebody who can!’” A nasally voice said in the distance.

“And what did he say to that?” asked a croaky voice.

“Psh, the bastard says ‘good luck finding somebody who will push bunk rocks through this damn town for my prices’. I told him to get lost. I don’t got time to be messing around with some two-bit smuggler from the Caper Islands.”

“But, it’ll be hard to find another guy this late in the game. You know the Prince’s Big Merchant Extravaganza is coming up, and people will be wanting to party hard. I know the Prince himself is big on the rocks and powders. Hey,” he said, “You won’t believe what I got set up back at base.”

“What?”

“Girls,” he said. “Fresh ones from the villages down south. They ain’t never been broken into; I checked it out myself before I bought ‘em, and they’re the real deal. I’m thinking of selling them for a thousand.”

“A thousand?! You’re crazy!”

This wasn’t good. It’d be just your luck to run into traffickers in the middle of the forest, half naked and dirty. You’d have to find your way around them. You saw there were only two of them. One brown-skinned and the other green, the two goblins only stood about three feet with large ears. You’d come across plenty of goblins in your time. Traffickers came in all races, but goblins were the biggest sellers and buyers. Slowly, you started making your way around the clearing.

“-Look, I paid a pretty penny for ‘em, so I’m not selling them any less than that, okay?”

“Well,” the nasally one said, “What species?”

“It’s a mixed bag, but mostly human and elf girls. I know Prince Yeo likes them the most, so I’m hoping he’ll at least consider it. If I can get the big guy’s endorsement on my product, I’ll make double the profits.”

“You might be on your way to some big bucks, bro,” his companion said. “Maybe we can finally go into business together! We can make it like a party package! You got the girls, I got the drugs. If we can find somebody selling booze, then we’d be rolling in gold for sure!”

The two goblins kept discussing their business plan as you walked around them. You thought you’d gotten past, tiptoeing to freedom, when something caught on your ankle. In a swift movement, you were suddenly yanked backward and lifted several feet into the air. The world turned upside down, and became even more disorienting than the night made it to be.

“Hey, what was that?” The goblin with the croaky voice said, pausing mid-conversation.

“Dunno. I think something tripped one of the traps.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. Desperately, you tried lifting yourself up to reach the rope tightening around your ankle. Fingers grazed the rough rope, and just barely scratched it every time you managed to reach. You heard the shuffling of feet coming from the campsite, voices blending together and you moved faster. This can’t happen again. You’d only just left the camp. A light shined on your from below, and the cackling started.

“Hey, looks like we’re both lucky boys,” the nasally voice said. “She’s dangling like a worm on a hook.”

“Cut her down. She might be worth something.”

You screamed when you dropped down and fell on your back. A knife came to your throat before you could get up, and one goblin flashed his lantern light on you. A gloved hand grabbed your jaw, turning your face side to side to examine your features.

“Hm, yes, nice,” the croaky voice said from behind the light. “Very nice, indeed.”

A gasp escaped you when a bare hand touched between your legs and shoved two fingers inside. They twirled and curled around, instantly igniting your mark again.

“Damn,” he cursed, “No good. This one’s been fucked a lot and recently. She must’ve come from that lycan camp up the way.”

“Still, she’s got a nice body,” said his friend. “Strong muscles and bones. She might fetch a price at the mines. Prince Yeo is always looking for slaves to work his diamond mines.”

You bit your lower lip to keep from moaning when the goblin withdrew his fingers. “Nah, she’s too pretty to waste in the dark. Let’s throw her in with the others. Hey, maybe we can pass her off as a fresh product? It’s not like any of those stuck up bastards uptown would be able to tell. They get pussy so often they probably can’t tell a new one from a used one.” He circled your clit slowly, feeling your wetness no doubt, “Plus, this one’s got to be good if the lycans kept her. Ain’t that right, sweetheart? Is this cunt that good?”

“Ha, I think she’s liking that, Ace, " the green skinned one with the high voice laughed.

“She is…" the brown skinned goblin replied, gold teeth glimmering. "Come here, baby. Let old Ace have a little taste of you.”

You willingly lifted your legs as the short goblin got settled in front of you. A cock tapped on your pussy a few times, shooting more arousal, before he started pumping into you. You didn't feel much, but the thumb on your clit made it better. His small hands gripped parts of your body they could barely hold, and his narrow hips slapped into your ass. The foreign, strange feeling had you cumming all over him soon enough, and eager for his friend to get his turn. When both goblins got their fill, they high-fived and congratulated each other.

“She’s coming with us,” Ace breathed. “You think Yeo will buy her?”

“He’d be stupid not to with tits like that.”

Sprocket, the nasally voiced goblin, clamped a metal collar around your neck and led you over to their camp. On the opposite side, you saw a trio of girls sitting in a cage similar to what Mingi had you in. However, instead of horses, you saw they had a car. A flashy yellow and red ride, you’d only seen a car once. People in Gold Rush couldn’t afford them, but the goblins built them in large factories. He forced you inside, chained your leash to the cage, and then bolted the door.

You feared where this might be going. 

****

He stalked right into their camp. Memories of watching you in the pen came back in a flood, fueling his anger. Not only upset over your stubbornness, the young Beta of the Choi pack decided to throw you into the "pig pen". He allowed his filthy kin to take advantage of you. He planned to keep you from him. Hongjoong knew Wooyoung had seen Garnet in his tent. He knew about your mark and who you belonged to. 

 "Lord Kim," a quavering voice said as he passed a nearby tent. An old man came out with the help of a tall walking stick. Hongjoong couldn't find it in him to smile at Choi Byungho. "Come for your pet?"

 "She isn't here," he told the pack's shaman. "I'm here for your Beta," the title came out in a hiss. 

 "Alas, another thing you are too late for," he sighed. "Our Alpha caught wind of what he'd done."

He pointed to the middle of the camp where he saw a young man be thrown out of San's tent. Hongjoong stood beside the old tent and watched. 

"Are you fucking insane? Have you lost your senses?" San howled, storming out towards his younger brother, who scrambled to his feet. "You put her in the pig pen?"

"It's where we put the disobedient ones," Wooyoung reasoned. "I didn't do anything you wouldn't have done."

"I wouldn't have thrown Kim's slave into our pen! You did see the mark on her back, right? You saw his crow hanging around here." San's thin eyes glared at Wooyoung, and the pair started circling each other. "I wouldn't have minded you taking a piece, but she was not ours to punish. Kim will kill you for this, and me and Father won't be able to stop him. "

"Will you kill the boy, Kim?" Byungho asked him. "He is a young man jealous of his older brother and only wanted something for himself. He acted out of anger."

"Byungho, you know I am not foolish enough to anger their father. Even if Wooyoung did something he disapproved of, Chulsung would retaliate if I killed him. He might not be Alpha, but San takes his opinion seriously," he said, watching San and Wooyoung finally clash.

The pair scratched, bit and grappled one another in their massive lycan forms. Lycans around them started cheering for San, while a few dared to back Wooyoung. Hongjoong watched from the trees with Byungho, the both of them waiting for the fight to end. San drew blood first, slicing a paw across Wooyoung's snout and earning a first hit. While he couldn't kill Wooyoung, he can watch massive ego be demolished. 

What worried him was you. You'd been captured by goblin traffickers who are likely taking you to Tin City. Yeosang will have no idea about the mark's significance. He never liked magic. With your curse progressing, by the time he finds you, you'll be slipping away. Hongjoong might not even be able to enter your mind after a while. This terrified him. If he couldn't do that, then he'd lose you. 

As Wooyoung, bleeding and whining in pain, yielded, Hongjoong patted the shaman's shoulder and walked into the camp. The moment he stepped past the threshold, lycans felt his icy presence. The cold air froze his palms and fingers, turning into a light blue as it slowly swirled. His eyes landed right on Wooyoung, who turned into his human form again. 

 "Kim," San immediately came between them, "I already took care of him in our own way. He's learned his lesson." 

Hongjoong thought of your dazed face, being taken like an animal because of the boy several feet away. 

"She wasn't a slave," Hongjoong said, anger suppressed in his voice. "She was my mate."

A word a lycan alpha would understand. San let out a deep breath, "I know. I got your letter...If I had known that, I wouldn't have touched her at all. We thought she was Mingi's at first." He looked between Hongjoong and his brother, then said, "A misunderstanding. That's all."

 "How far is Tin City from here?"

"About six days on foot," he then added. 

Right as he said this, the Choi camp was plunged into darkness. The sky might have smothered the sun. The lycans all around them yipped and scattered into their tents as if it might help them. San, however, stood with Hongjoong and looked to the skies. The long slender body glided hundreds of miles above them, the wings spanning even longer. Aerion's high cry echoed through the air, a warning to the people below. Her eggs having hatched a day ago, Hongjoong caught sight of three dark figures latched to her underbelly. 

“Or four days on a Wyvern's back,” San added. 

That was too long. Far too long. Hongjoong will admit your foolish idea of escaping the camp threw a wrench in things, but he hoped to find you in the woods. Garnet lost sight of you last night when the goblins took you away. Hongjoong thought about what you'd be like when he finally found you. You'd be chained up, groaning and drooling, and begging for stimulation. You'd have no memory of him or anything else. He couldn't let that happen. He won't let it happen. 

He gave Wooyoung one more glare, then shot a bolt of pure, hard ice in his direction. The lycan cried in pain when the hard ball hit him square in the chest, a second one following to his gut. Hongjoong clenched his jaw, watching him double over and groan. The thought of feeding the lycan pup to Aerion crossed his mind, but he only threw a third ball at him. 

“Kim!”

He pictured Wooyoung slapping you. He remembered him tossing you into the mud, smirking at your suffering. Hongjoong's cold blood boiled hot, his hands shaking as he pushed past San to the cowering beta nearby. 

“YN is my life, my soul mate, my entire reason for staying in your miserable, backwards, pathetic little world,” he slammed his fist right into his ribs, the bone likely breaking from the hard hit. “She means more to me than any of you filthy,” Hit, “Fucking,” another hit, “Savages!” 

Two more punches to his face sent Wooyoung backwards onto the floor. “You plotted to keep her from me,” a swift kick kept him on the ground, “And use her for your own pleasure, knowing she was mine!” Another kick sent the man against another tent. He grabbed Wooyoung’s arm, ice already starting to crawl across his skin. “Let's see how useful a Beta is with no fucking hands-”

“-Kim!” Byungho appeared, the onlookers moving aside for him to pass. “That is enough. The boy will be dealt with in our own way.”

“He harmed my mate, Byungho. Does that word mean nothing anymore?”

“The boy did not know,” he approached without fear, “Come with me. Sit and rest. You are tired, my lord.”

“I need to get to YN,” he said, releasing Wooyoung’s arm. “She's on her way out of the forest.”

“Only for a brief moment. You and Aerion won't make the journey in your condition.”

Hongjoong wouldn't admit to the hunger pains or the pounding headache from lack of sleep. You needed him. Time was running out, snd he couldn't risk losing you again. He should never have let you out of his sight. He should have let you go with him whenever you asked. He only wanted to keep you safe, but now he sees that can only happen with him around. The bit of magic he used wore him further down, but he couldn't stop now. He needed to get to you before it was too late. 

“You don't understand-”

“-I do. Please, my lord, let our Beta go and come with me. You can replenish your magic and eat while your beast feeds her young. Those were hatchlings I saw, yes?”

“Yes.”

Hongjoong looked down at the injured Wooyoung, who was being tended to by his pack. He could hear your restrained groans in his head, the slapping of skin on skin as you struggled to stay upright. You'll be in worse conditions if Yeosang found out what you had on your back.

“Cross me or my mate again, Beta,” he growled at Wooyoung, “And I will impale you on an icicle.”

He turned away and walked with Byungho to his tent on the outskirts. “Where is Garnet?” he asked, looking at the trees. 

“On my perch resting,” he answered. 

“Good. I have a message to send.”

He can't let anyone else hurt you. 

****

A/N: Girl can't catch a break anywhere, huh? Hopefully Hongjoong makes it to her before she goes to meet the scheming Merchant Prince. I really want thank everyone whose been reading <3 enjoy <3

[squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame]

This one is just kinda silly and for the funsies, bit maybe squid game characters reacting to you saying, "Size doesn't matter" (I don't know I just thought it would be funny)

Okay so....I wanna do this with all 22/24 characters i write for...so hold on tight

Characters: [Cho hyun ju, Thanos, Namgyu, Gyeong-Seok, Young-il, Gi-Hun, Dae-Ho, Min-Su, Sang-Woo, Yong-sik, Salesman]

[Song mingi, Choi San]

[Gdragon, Kang Daesung, T.O.P]

[Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, Jhope]

[Kim Seo-Wan]

[Gong yoo, Roh jae-won, Park Sunghoon]

(Oh and I didn't know if you meant about the dick, so I did it about the dick)

Oh and both reader and the character can say size doesnt matter

Warnings: Suggestive terms, talk of sex, Use of the word Dick. MDNI

Hyun ju

(so...ee...this one will be about a Strap-on because I don't think pookie wants to use her own...)

It’s a lazy Saturday, and you and Hyun-Ju are curled up on the couch, giggling as you scroll through an online shop that’s definitely not safe for work. She’s half-hiding her face behind a throw pillow, eyes flicking between the screen and your face, clearly embarrassed but curious.

“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” she mutters, voice muffled by the pillow.

“You suggested it,” you say, nudging her playfully. “You said you wanted to try.”

“I did,” she grumbles. “I just didn’t think I’d have to pick one. There are so many sizes. What if I mess it up?”

You snort, grinning as you turn the tablet toward her. “It’s not a test, babe. Just pick one you like.”

She peers at the screen again, then covers her eyes dramatically. “That one looks huge. What if it’s too much? What if it’s not enough? What if—”

“Hyun-Ju,” you say gently, taking her hand. “Size doesn’t matter.”

She blinks. “It doesn’t?”

“Not like you think.” You scoot closer, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You could show up with a tiny pink one with glitter and a bow on it, and I’d still be down. It’s about you, not the size.”

A laugh escapes her—nervous, but warm. “You’re such a sap.”

“And you love me.”

“I really do,” she whispers, leaning in for a kiss. “Okay, let’s pick one. But if it has glitter, you’re the one explaining it if we get stopped at customs.”

“Deal,” you say, grinning into the kiss. “But for the record, I kinda want the glitter one now.”

Thanos

It’s quiet in the room—warm, low-lit, safe. The kind of safe that only ever seems to happen with him.

Su-Bong's fingers trail hesitantly down your waist, his gaze flickering between your face and the edge of your shirt. You’re already half undressed, bare legs brushing against his clothed ones as you sit straddling his lap, hearts pounding too loud in the stillness.

You kiss his cheek. “You okay?”

He nods slowly, but you see it—that flash of doubt in his eyes.

“I just…” he starts, voice low and scratchy. “Before we go further, I wanna say something.”

You blink, cupping his jaw with both hands. “Say anything.”

His eyes avoid yours, locked on the hem of your shirt like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. “I don’t want you to be disappointed. With… me. With it.” His laugh is awkward, humorless. “I know I’m not… you know, not big. Like, porn star or whatever."

For a second, you’re quiet, processing the weight of his insecurity. Then, as he finally works up the nerve to push his boxers down—vulnerable, cheeks already flushed—you do something completely unexpected.You giggle. Not out of malice. It’s soft, unfiltered. Genuine.

He stiffens. “What—what’s funny?"

You lean forward and kiss the corner of his mouth, still laughing a little as you murmur, “Size doesn’t matter, baby.”

He blinks.

You run your fingers down his chest, resting a hand on his stomach. “Seriously. You think I’m here because I measured you first? I’m here because it’s you. The guy who watches cheesy horror movies with me and makes weird little noises in his sleep.

”Su-Bong covers his face with both hands. “Oh my god, stop…”

“I won’t,” you tease, pressing kisses to his chest, each word softer. “You’re sexy. You’re sweet. You make me feel safe. I want you. All of you. This too.”

You wrap your fingers around him—slow, tender—and he gasps, melting under your touch like he’s never been touched like this before. With care. With affection. With love that doesn’t measure.

“Baby,” he whispers, voice cracking.

You meet his eyes and smile. “Told you. Doesn’t matter.”

Namgyu

You’re lying in bed with Nam-Gyu, his shirt long discarded somewhere on the floor, and his fingers running idle patterns along your waist. There’s a softness to the moment, a pause that lingers just a little longer than usual.

Then, just as your hand starts sliding lower, he pulls back—just a bit.

"Wait," he says, suddenly awkward, reaching over to flick off the lamp beside the bed. The room dips into a warm, dusky kind of dark.You blink. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he says too fast. Then adds with a half-laugh, "It’s just, you know… it's hotter this way. Like... mood lighting."

You grin, amused. "You mean no lighting?"

He chuckles, but it sounds tight. “Yeah. Total darkness. Very sexy. Classic move.”

There’s a beat of silence. You can feel his hesitance under the teasing, the way his fingers have gone still on your hip.You scoot closer, brushing your nose against his. “Nam-Gyu… what’s going on?”

He sighs, and you can hear the quiet vulnerability there. “It’s stupid. Just… I’ve always been kinda self-conscious about my… size.”

Your heart softens immediately. You kiss the edge of his jaw, then his cheek.He mumbles, “I mean, it’s like… five inches. Nothing special. And I guess I thought maybe if it’s dark, I won’t see it in your eyes. That… disappointment.”

You pause only long enough to tilt his face toward yours.

“Hey. Look at me.” He does. Barely.

“I’m not with you for that,” you whisper. “You’re kind. You’re funny. You care so deeply, even when you try to play it cool. That’s what matters. And for the record? I’ve never once been disappointed. Not even close.

”His expression flickers—half grateful, half disbelieving.

“You don’t have to be a certain size to make someone feel wanted,” you continue, pressing your forehead to his. “You already do. Every time you look at me like I’m the only person in the world. Every time you make me laugh until I cry. Every time you hold me like this.”

“…You really don’t care?”

“I really don’t care,” you say firmly. “I care about you. Not numbers.”

There’s a long, quiet moment before he finally lets out a breath and pulls you into a real, full-bodied hug. He kisses you slow this time, deep, like he’s breathing again.“…Okay,” he says softly. “Lights can stay off for now. But only because I still think it’s hot.”

You smile against his mouth. “Sure, babe. Whatever helps your sexy ninja fantasy.”

Gyeong seok

You were tangled up on the couch together, the late-night movie long forgotten as Gyeong-Seok nuzzled his nose against your shoulder, murmuring something that made you giggle.

“I still can’t believe you laugh like that,” he teased, voice low and full of warmth.

“And I still can’t believe you blush this easily,” you shot back, tracing a finger across his cheek just to see him turn crimson again. He looked away bashfully, but the corner of his mouth tugged upward.

Then, after a beat, his voice dropped just a bit.

“Hey… can I ask you something kinda dumb?”

You shifted to face him more fully, cupping his face gently. “You can ask me anything.”

He hesitated, then let out a nervous chuckle. “Does… size matter to you?”

You blinked, caught off guard, but not unkindly. “You mean—?”

He nodded, clearly mortified but trying to stay cool. “Yeah. That.”

You almost laughed, but he looked so sincere, so vulnerable, it stopped you. Instead, you kissed him softly and rested your forehead against his.

“Gyeong-Seok,” you said gently, “I’ve never once been with you and thought, ‘Oh no, not big enough.’ You know what I think about?”

He looked at you, hopeful and shy. “What?”

“How you always kiss the inside of my wrist like it's sacred. How you whisper my name like you’re afraid it’ll float away. How you listen when I tell you what feels good, and then you remember.”

He was quiet, eyes flicking down, a little overwhelmed.

“I mean it,” you added. “You could have a magic wand or a baby carrot—it wouldn’t change how you love me. And that’s what gets me.

”Finally, he cracked a grin. “Baby carrot?”

You shrugged with a cheeky smile. “It’s about the technique, babe.”

He groaned and buried his face in your chest. “I’ll never be able to look at a salad the same way again.”

You both laughed, and later, when things got a little more heated and his hands found familiar places, he didn’t ask again. He didn’t need to.

You made sure of that.

Young il

SYou’re lying on your stomach, still catching your breath, face half-buried in Young-Il’s chest. His fingers play lazily with a strand of your hair, his body warm and flushed from what just happened. You’re both quiet, basking in that afterglow that makes the world feel like it’s humming.

Then he murmurs, almost like he didn’t mean for you to hear: “…Do you ever wish I was bigger?”

Your head snaps up.

“What?”

He looks embarrassed, eyes flicking away from yours, his hand pausing in your hair. “I mean, I know I’m not, like… huge. Some guys are, and I just—if it ever felt like you were missing out, I’d wanna know.”

You blink, then burst out laughing.

He groans. “See? I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, no—baby—” You sit up, straddling his waist, cupping his face gently. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds coming from the man who had me seeing stars ten minutes ago?”

He’s still sulking a little, but you can see the corner of his mouth twitching. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you say, leaning down to kiss him. “You fit me perfectly. Like you were designed for me. And it’s not just about size—it’s how you touch me, how you know me. That’s what makes it good. That’s what makes it you.”

He finally smiles, that beautiful, dimpled grin that always makes your heart skip.

“…Still wouldn’t mind being called ‘huge’ just once,” he mumbles.

You lean closer, lips brushing his ear.

“Fine. You’re huge.”

A pause.

“Emotionally.”

He bursts out laughing, flipping you onto your back and pinning you there with playful kisses, his confidence restored.

And just like that, he stops worrying.

GiHun

You’re curled up with Gi-Hun on your worn-out couch, half-watching a movie and half-fighting the urge to fall asleep on his chest. His fingers trace lazy circles on your arm, his other hand buried in your hair.

“You know,” he starts, sounding strangely shy for someone who’d just been spoon-feeding you popcorn a minute ago, “I used to worry about stuff like… you know. Size.”

You blink. “Size?”

He clears his throat. “My dick.”

You almost choke on laughter. “What?”

“I’m serious!” He looks genuinely embarrassed, eyes darting away. “When I was younger, I used to compare. Locker rooms, internet… all that stuff. Thought it mattered more than it actually did.”

You sit up a little so you can look at him properly. He’s blushing, ears pink, suddenly ten times more boyish than man. It’s ridiculously endearing.

“And now?” you ask softly.

He shrugs. “Sometimes I still wonder. But then you—” He pauses, smiling crookedly. “You don’t seem to care. You never made me feel like I had to be anyone else.”

You cup his face, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “That’s because I don’t care. You think I fall asleep on you every other night because of your dick size?”

“Well, I was hoping it was because of my dazzling personality,” he jokes, but his smile softens when you kiss his temple.

“Gi-Hun. You could be the size of my pinky and I’d still love you.”

“...Really?”

“Really.”

“And I’m not that small, though. Right?” You smirk. “Do you want a full report?”

He laughs, pulling you close again. “Maybe later.”

The movie continues, forgotten in the background. He holds you tighter, more secure now, like your words stitched something quiet and old inside him back together

Dae ho

You’re curled up on Dae-Ho’s couch with him, legs tangled beneath a shared blanket, a half-eaten bowl of tteokbokki on the coffee table, and some random late-night variety show playing in the background. You’re not even watching it anymore — not really.

Dae-Ho is warm beside you, absently stroking your thigh with those long fingers of his, mind somewhere far off. He’s quiet tonight, quieter than usual, and you catch him looking away when you meet his eyes.

“You okay?” you ask, bumping his knee with yours.

He hesitates, then shrugs. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

That’s Dae-Ho for you — always internal, always trying to keep his feelings tidy and out of the way, like they’re an inconvenience. But not with you. He’s learning not to be.

You shift a little, angling your body toward him. “Thinking about what?”

His ears pinken. He scratches the back of his neck, the classic “I’m awkward but trying not to be” move. “It’s kind of dumb.”

“I’m kind of dumb too,” you joke, nudging him with your foot. “Try me.”

He exhales through his nose, then mutters, “Just… that maybe I’m not exactly… impressive. Physically.”

You blink. “Physically?”

He frowns, eyes trained on the blanket now. “You know. Down there.”

Oh.

You pause, then blink again, a slow smile creeping up your face. “Dae-Ho… are you seriously worried about the size of your dick?”

His face flushes crimson. “Okay—see—this is why I didn’t want to say anything—”

“No, no,” you laugh, catching his wrist when he tries to pull away. “Wait, I’m not teasing. Okay, maybe a little, but only because it’s you.”

He groans and drops his head onto your shoulder, hiding his face like a sulky puppy. “It’s not funny.”

“It kind of is. I mean, look at you.” You cup his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours. “You’re tall, you’ve got the most absurdly perfect hands, you’re sweet and quiet and smart, and I’m crazy about you. Do you really think I’m lying here at midnight with you, craving your attention, because of something like that?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it.

You grin. “Let me say it clearly: size doesn’t matter. At all.”

He stares at you.

“...Except for your heart,” you add, tapping his chest. “That better stay big.”

He lets out a soft, relieved laugh, eyes crinkling just the way you love. “You’re such a brat.”

“And you’re ridiculous,” you say, climbing onto his lap and kissing the corner of his mouth. “If you’re still worried, I could demonstrate how much I like you. With... detailed examples.”

He arches an eyebrow. “You want to prove it?”

“Only for scientific purposes.”

Dae-Ho chuckles, arms sliding around your waist. “I guess I’ll allow it.”

Safe to say, he didn’t bring it up again. Not with words, anyway.

Min su

It was supposed to be a lazy Sunday morning. The kind where you wake up tangled in each other’s limbs, half-asleep kisses exchanged under warm sheets, maybe pancakes later—if you ever got out of bed.But then he’d gone quiet.

You were curled against Min-Su’s side, one leg draped over his, fingers lazily tracing the hem of his shirt. You’d noticed it—how still he went when your hand skimmed down toward his waistband. He wasn’t recoiling, exactly, but he definitely wasn’t leaning into it either.

“Hey,” you murmured, tilting your head to look at him. “You okay?”

His jaw flexed. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Lie. You could read Min-Su like an open book—he wanted to be easygoing, confident, nonchalant. But you’d seen the way he avoided locker room talk with his friends. The way he changed the subject when guys joked about size like it was some kind of scoreboard.

And now you saw that same tension flickering behind his eyes.

“You don’t have to pretend,” you said gently, sitting up just enough to face him. “Something’s on your mind.”

He let out a breath. “It’s stupid.”

“Let me decide that.”

Min-Su hesitated. Then finally, he said it, barely above a whisper: “I know I’m not… you know. Huge. Like, I’ve seen the kind of guys in those comments sections online, and it’s just—hard not to compare.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. But your heart ached a little too. Not for what he said, but that he’d been carrying that insecurity at all.

“Min-Su,” you said, sliding your hand into his and squeezing, “can I be real with you?”

He nodded, a little guarded.

“I don’t care how many inches someone has. That’s not why I love being with you. I care about how you look at me like I’m the only person in the room. How you laugh like a little kid when I poke your ribs. How you treat my body like it’s something you respect, not something to conquer.”

His shoulders slumped slightly, a sign of his walls lowering. “But don’t you ever… I dunno… wish it was different?”

You leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth. “No. You want to know what does matter?”

“What?”

You kissed him again, deeper this time. “How safe I feel with you. How good you are with your hands. And your mouth.” A teasing smile crept in. “That is what gets me.”

A faint red climbed his cheeks, but he smiled—genuine this time. “So… you’re not just saying that?”

“Do I look like someone who fakes anything?”

Min-Su laughed softly, pulling you into him again. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You settled against his chest, satisfied as his heartbeat evened out. “Told you. No ruler needed.”

Sang woo

You were curled up on the couch with Sang-Woo, your legs tangled beneath the blanket, his arm around your shoulder. The rain tapped softly against the window, filling the quiet room with its steady rhythm. You could feel his heartbeat under your palm where your hand rested on his chest. He smelled like warm laundry and peppermint tea, freshly showered, freshly yours.

"I still don’t get why you like me," he said suddenly, voice quiet. Almost joking, but not really.

You turned your head to look at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

He hesitated, gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I’m… not the biggest guy out there. You’ve never said anything, but… I know what people expect. What guys are *supposed* to look like."

Ah. So that’s what this was.You sat up slightly, cupping his jaw so he’d look at you. "Sang-Woo. Are you seriously worried about your dick right now?"

He flushed, cheeks pink. "I didn’t say that."

"You didn’t have to," you teased gently, then leaned in closer. "First of all, size doesn’t matter. But second of all? I’ve never had a single complaint."

"You're biased," he muttered, embarrassed."

Biased because I love it," you grinned. "It’s you. I don’t want anyone else, or anything else. You really think I’d fake all those sounds I make? That mess you turn me into every single time?"

That shut him up.

You could feel the shift in the air — the way his hand slid under your shirt, slow and tentative, the way his mouth found yours, a little desperate now. When he kissed you like that — full of unspoken apologies, hunger, and need — you knew it wasn’t just about proving something.

It was about believing you.

Later, tangled in the sheets, your head resting on his shoulder, he mumbled, "You’re the one who wrecked me this time."

You smiled into his skin. "Told you. Perfect fit."

Yong Sik

It started with a stupid conversation. One of those ones that spirals after wine, too many snacks, and a little too much scrolling on TikTok together. You and Yong-Sik were curled up on the couch in matching sweatpants—his oversized hoodie swallowing you whole—watching random videos until one popped up that made your eyes widen.

“Why is every comment on this video about that guy’s... size?” you asked with a snort, tossing your phone on the table.

Yong-Sik cleared his throat. “People talk about that kind of thing too much these days. It’s not everything.

”You glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow.

He rubbed the back of his neck and added, “...Not that I’ve ever had complaints. But, you know. In theory.”

You tilted your head at him, amused by his sudden flustered state. “Yong-Sik. Are you feeling insecure?”

His ears turned red instantly. “No! I just—!” He paused. “Wait, are you saying something?”

You laughed and leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I’m saying I don’t care if you’re bigger than some TikTok thirst trap. You’re the one I come home to. You make me laugh when I want to cry, you carry my heavy bags even when I tell you not to, and you make me pancakes shaped like hearts even when they look more like deformed blobs.”

Yong-Sik blinked. “...That’s because I love you.”

“Exactly. And that is more than enough,” you whispered, fingers gently curling around the waistband of his sweatpants. “But, for the record... I have zero complaints either.”

He froze as your hand slid down slightly, and then his whole face lit up with a dopey grin. “Ah... I see. So size doesn’t matter, but—”“Shut up and kiss me.”

He did. And later, as the room filled with the sounds of soft laughter, whispered I-love-you’s, and rustling sheets, you were both reminded that connection—real, warm, messy, honest—was what mattered most.

Even if he did walk around with a little extra swagger the next day.

The Salesman

It started with a dumb joke.

You were lying across the bed on your stomach, scrolling through your phone while Gong Yoo — or “the Salesman,” as you still teasingly called him — towel-dried his hair beside you. His long legs were crossed, eyes calm as he hummed some tune under his breath.

“Did you know,” you said casually, “the average length is only like... 5.1 inches?”

He paused mid-rub, glanced at you in the mirror. “Is that so?”

“Mmhmm. I read it in an article. Very scientific.”

There was a beat of silence, then a low chuckle. “And why are you researching average dick sizes?”

You shrugged dramatically. “Just… general knowledge. Trivia night prep.”

He moved behind you and tugged your phone gently from your hand, tossing it to the side before crawling over your back like a lazy panther.

“So? Did it disappoint you?” His voice was warm in your ear. “Are you… devastated by this new information?”

You snorted. “Please. Size doesn’t matter.”

He froze.

Then you felt it — the slow smirk spreading across his face as his arms boxed you in. “Is that what people say when they’re trying to be nice?”

“Oh, don’t get sensitive on me,” you teased, rolling over beneath him. “It’s not about length. It’s about knowing what to do with it.”

He raised an eyebrow, then lowered his mouth to your neck, whispering, “Then I guess you should be grateful I’m very... skilled.”

Your breath hitched. “So confident.”

“You started it,” he murmured, kissing just below your ear. “And if you’re going to toss out scientific studies, then I feel obligated to provide… counter-research.”

You laughed into his shoulder, loving how quickly your playful banter always turned into this — warmth, tension, familiarity. It wasn’t just about sex, though you’d never complain about that. It was the way he always knew how to get under your skin, mentally and physically.

“You’re such a menace,” you mumbled.He grinned, nudging your nose with his. “Maybe. But tell me again—size doesn’t matter?”

You looped your arms around his neck, eyes sparkling. “Not when you’ve got a mouth like yours.”

He kissed you breathless after that, the kind of kiss that left no room for trivia, only heat.

Later, when you were curled against him, legs tangled and hearts steadying, he whispered, “Still think size doesn’t matter?”

You kissed his chest, right over his heartbeat. “I still think you matter most.”

And that answer shut him up for a long, long time.

Song mingi

Mingi had always been a confident man. On stage, he exuded charisma, his presence so magnetic that it was hard to look away. Off-stage, however, he was a little different. He was self-conscious, especially in moments of intimacy, a side that only you got to see.

You had been together for a few months now, and despite the closeness you shared, he never seemed entirely comfortable when it came to certain things. You’d never been the type to worry about small details, but for some reason, Mingi always seemed to care.

It all started one evening when you both were lounging around in your shared apartment. The mood was light, filled with teasing banter and soft smiles. Mingi had been particularly quiet for the past hour, seemingly lost in thought.

"Hey," you called softly, nudging him gently. "What's on your mind?"

He looked up, and his eyes held a mixture of hesitation and vulnerability. "Y/N, can I ask you something?" His voice was low, almost shy, which caught your attention immediately.

"Of course. What's up?"

Mingi shifted uncomfortably on the couch, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "It's... kind of silly," he muttered, avoiding your gaze.You raised an eyebrow, curious but concerned. "Mingi, you know you can talk to me about anything. Nothing is too silly."

He sighed, finally turning to face you. "I’ve been... thinking about something. I know we’ve been together for a while, but... I’ve always worried about... you know." His face flushed, and he gestured vaguely toward the space between you two, not exactly saying what he meant.

It took you a moment to understand, but once the realization hit, you couldn’t help but smile softly. "Mingi," you said, reaching out to take his hand, "You don’t have to worry about that."

He looked at you, his expression still filled with doubt. "But—""Listen to me," you interjected, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Size doesn’t matter. It’s not about that, Mingi. It’s about how you make me feel. And you make me feel amazing."

He blinked, clearly processing your words. "Really? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?"

You chuckled lightly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Mingi, I love you for who you are. Everything about you, not just the obvious stuff. And honestly? You don’t need to worry about anything else."

His shoulders visibly relaxed at your words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I guess I’ve been a little insecure about it," he admitted, his voice a little lighter now.

You leaned in, kissing him softly on the cheek. "There’s no reason to be insecure with me. I love everything about you, and that’s all that matters."

Mingi’s smile grew, and he pulled you into a tight hug, his warmth wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. "I’m really lucky to have you, Y/N."

"And I’m lucky to have you," you whispered, resting your head against his chest, content in the quiet embrace.

In that moment, you both understood that it wasn’t the superficial things that made a relationship special. It was trust, love, and understanding that truly mattered. And no matter what, Mingi knew he had those things with you.

Choi san

You had said it offhandedly. Over dinner, chopsticks poised mid-air, your eyes casually scanning the TV in the background.

“Size doesn’t matter,” you said, as if you hadn’t just set off a ticking time bomb across the table.

San blinked. “Huh?”

You grinned, teasing. “You know. In general. People make too big a deal about it.”

His brow twitched. The corner of his mouth tilted, somewhere between amused and intrigued. “You sure about that?”

You shrugged, sipping your drink slowly, eyes twinkling over the rim. “Mmhm.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and lowering his voice. “Y/N, are you trying to start something right now?”

“What?” you asked innocently, though your foot was already sneaking up his leg under the table. “Are you offended or something?”

He gave a low laugh, the kind that hinted he wasn’t going to let this go. “No, no. Not offended. Just... curious how committed you are to that statement.”

You quirked a brow. “Why? Planning to challenge me?”

He got up without a word, casually walking around the table, fingers brushing your shoulder as he passed behind you. “Let’s test your theory then.”

---Which is how you ended up where you were now—sprawled across his bed, his shirt discarded somewhere on the floor, and San kissing a line down your collarbone with maddening patience.

“Still think size doesn’t matter?” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with mischief, his hand trailing lower, slow, purposeful.

Your breath hitched. “I mean... it depends what we’re talking about.”

He looked up at you with a smirk. “Don’t get shy now. I’m just a humble man trying to change your mind.”

And oh—he did. He took his time proving you wrong, with hands that knew exactly how to hold you and a body that moved with confident restraint.

It wasn’t just his size. It was the way he watched your reactions like they were sacred. The way he whispered your name when you trembled beneath him. The way he laughed, low and warm, when you finally gasped something that sounded suspiciously like:

“Okay—maybe it kind of matters—”San grinned against your neck. “Say it louder.”

You tugged him closer, heart thudding, face flushed. “San.”

“Yeah?”

You gave him your sweetest, most ruined smile. “I hate you.”

He laughed again—soft, smug, entirely in love. “No, you don’t.”

namjoon

(THIS ONE IS VERY EXPLICIT AND INCLUDES EEE...SEX)

You said it like it was nothing.

"Size doesn’t matter."

Casually, while scrolling your phone, half-laughing at a meme. And Namjoon had paused—hand stilling on your thigh, eyes flicking up like he’d just missed the punchline of a joke aimed at him.

“You think so?” he asked, voice low but unreadable.

You blinked. “Well… yeah. I mean—” You trailed off, trying to read the flicker of something in his expression. “I meant it doesn’t have to. Not like it’s the only thing that matters.”

Namjoon hummed, leaning back against the couch. One arm stretched behind you, fingers brushing your shoulder.

“But it matters to you a little,” he said, tilting his head. “Doesn’t it?”

You smirked, sensing the shift. “Why? You insecure or something?”

And that’s when he laughed—deep and sharp, like a warning and a promise.

“Oh, baby,” he said, voice thick like molasses. “If only you knew how much it matters when it’s me.”

He didn’t rush.

Namjoon never did.

He undressed you slowly, like it was ritual. Worshipful. Every piece of clothing peeled off with care, with teasing glances and subtle touches that made your skin feel too tight. When you reached for him—clumsy, eager—he caught your wrists and pinned them above your head.

“Be patient,” he murmured. “You’ll get it. All of it.”

You thought he was just teasing—until he slid his pants down and your breath hitched.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, eyes wide. “Joon.”

He just looked smug. But beneath that, something softer flickered—like he was watching for your real reaction.

“I’ve scared people before,” he admitted, kneeling between your legs. “Not everyone can take it.”

You reached for him again—this time, to cup his face.

“Then they didn’t deserve it,” you said. “Or you.”

His eyes darkened. “Fuck. Say that again.”

You did. With your legs wrapped around his waist and his forehead pressed to yours, you said it again. And again. And when he started moving—slow, deep, filling you in a way that made you gasp—you weren’t thinking about size.

You were thinking about him. His hands holding you like you were breakable. His voice low and tender, asking if you were okay. The way he waited for you to adjust. The way he whispered, “You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

By the time you came, blinding and loud, the only thing that mattered was the way he held you through it—kissed your cheeks, your chest, your lips, like you were the one who’d given him something.

Later, with your head on his chest, you mumbled, “Okay. Maybe size matters a little.”

He laughed, breath puffing against your hair. “Told you.”

But he held you closer, like it didn’t matter at all.

Yoongi

It started with a stupid comment.

You were both curled up on the couch after a lazy dinner, your head in Yoongi’s lap, a soft blanket thrown over the two of you. A rerun of some variety show was playing, though neither of you was really paying attention.

“I swear,” you muttered, “if I have to hear one more guy on TV brag about how big he is like it’s a goddamn trophy—”Yoongi chuckled lowly, playing with your hair. “Well, it is a point of pride for a lot of men.”

“Yeah, but it’s so dumb. Like, I’ve dated guys who were… let’s just say, very confident about their size, and yet they couldn’t find a clue if I drew them a map.” You looked up at him with a smirk. “It’s not about size. It’s about effort, understanding… knowing how to actually connect.”

His fingers paused.

You noticed instantly. That subtle shift in Yoongi’s energy that he always tried to hide—when something hit him a little too close.

“Yoongi?”

He glanced away, eyes on the muted TV now. “…You really think size doesn’t matter?”

You sat up slightly, enough to look at him properly. “Of course not. Why?”

He shrugged, too casually. “Nothing. Just… guys hear stuff, you know?”

“Babe.” You placed your hand on his cheek, gently turning his face toward you. “You know I don’t care about that. Right?”

Yoongi bit his lip, hesitating. “I’ve always been kind of self-conscious. Especially when I was younger. The locker room talk, the comparisons… it messes with your head after a while. Even now, sometimes I wonder if…”

He trailed off, clearly embarrassed.Your chest squeezed. Not because he was insecure, but because he trusted you enough to admit it.

“Hey,” you said softly, sliding into his lap, straddling him under the blanket. His hands instinctively came to rest on your hips.

“I’m going to say this once, and I need you to really hear it, okay?” you whispered, brushing your lips against his. “You are the best I’ve ever had. Not because of some stupid number or what porn says is ideal. Because you care. You listen. You know what I like. You take your time. You make me feel wanted. Safe. Desired. Worshipped.”

He blinked slowly. “Worshipped, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” You kissed his jaw, then his neck, letting your lips linger just to feel him shiver. “No one’s ever made me feel like you do. So yeah—size doesn’t matter. You matter.”

Yoongi exhaled shakily, tension slowly melting from his shoulders. His eyes softened, that quiet smile forming—the one reserved just for you.

“…You always know what to say,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours.

“That’s because I mean it.”

Silence settled over you again, but this time, it was warm and full and safe. He pulled you closer, arms around your waist, blanket cocooning you both in that bubble you always loved.

After a few minutes, he spoke again—voice low and teasing this time. “Still, just for the record…”

“Hm?”

“…I may not be the biggest. But I am the best.”

You burst out laughing, smacking his chest playfully. “Cocky little shit.”

He grinned. “Only when it counts.”

Jhope

You had barely finished your sentence when Hoseok froze.

“I mean, I saw it online,” you rambled, cheeks burning. “That guys worry about… size. And it just made me wonder if—if you ever felt that way.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow as he set his glass of water down on the nightstand. The soft rustle of sheets between you made the silence louder.

“Wait,” he said, slowly. “Are you asking if I worry about my size?”

You buried your face in your hands. “Forget I said anything.”

But he reached over, gently prying your fingers away with a grin. “No, baby. I just wanna understand. You mean, like... my dick?”

You groaned. “Yes. That.”

He laughed—an easy, warm laugh that somehow made the tension crack like a bubble. “Ah, jagi,” he said, shifting closer, “you know what I think?”

You gave him a side-eye.

“I think size doesn’t matter,” he said confidently, sliding a hand under the hem of your shirt. “What matters is how I use it.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were already giggling as he leaned down and kissed your stomach, slow and teasing.

“You never once complained,” he said between kisses, moving lower. “In fact, you usually can’t walk straight after.”

“Cocky much?”

“I have to be cocky,” he said with a wink. “It’s not about being the biggest. It’s about knowing your body—what you like. What makes you fall apart.”

His voice dropped, thick with intent. “And I know you. Every soft sound you make. Every way your body clenches around me. That little breath you take when I hit that spot—yeah.. That one.”

You gasped when he demonstrated exactly what he meant with his fingers.

“Hoseok,” you whispered, squirming.

“You think I need to be any bigger than I am when I already make you cry like this?”

Your answer was a moan.

And later, when you were curled against his chest, skin still tingling, he murmured, “For the record, you’re perfect too. Fit me like you were made for me.”

Gdragon

You said it with a straight face, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “Size doesn’t matter.”

Ji-Yong paused mid-buttoning his shirt, head tilting just slightly. “That so?”

“Yep,” you said, plopping onto the edge of his bed, tossing your phone beside you. “It’s all about connection. Technique. Effort. Vibe.”

He slowly walked toward you, a little amused glint in his eyes. “So if I had, like… a very average—maybe even below average—”

You held up a hand. “Ji, babe. I wouldn’t care.”

He blinked. “Even if it was, say… shockingly big?” He was clearly trying not to smile.

“That’s literally the opposite of what we were talking about.”

He leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of you. “But what if I told you… it’s not average. Or small. At all.”

You gave him a skeptical look, fingers resting lightly on his chest. “You gonna brag now?”

“I’m just saying,” he murmured, voice lowering, “you act all calm and wise until you're face-to-face with it.”Your brows furrowed. “Face-to-face with—oh my god, Ji-Yong.”

He grinned, shameless. “Hey, you brought it up.”

“You were halfway into a TED Talk about your di—”He cut you off with a kiss. Hot. Slow. Just enough to make your thoughts scatter.

You exhaled against his lips. “Okay. Maybe size doesn’t matter. But if it did…”He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

You smirked. “You’d still be cocky.”

He laughed, tipping his forehead to yours. “Touché.”

Daesung

You’re sprawled across Daesung’s couch, half-watching a movie, half-scrolling through your phone when the conversation takes a weird turn.

“No, seriously,” you say, laughing, “I don’t get the obsession. Size doesn’t matter.”

Daesung, who had just taken a sip of his drink, chokes—coughing and spluttering like you just punched him with words.

You blink. “What?”

He clears his throat, trying very hard to stay cool. “Nothing. Just… interesting opinion.”

You raise an eyebrow. “It is an interesting opinion. Because it’s true. No guy wants to admit it, but come on, it’s about skill. Not size.”

Daesung smiles, all too knowingly. “You sure about that?”

“You sound like someone with something to prove.”

He leans forward, voice low. “Would you like a demonstration?”

You freeze. Because here’s the thing: Daesung is quiet confidence. Polite. Charming. Never brags.

But your brain short-circuits back to that night you first slept together—how he had taken his time, how you remembered feeling full in every sense of the word, and how you had to sit down slowly the next day.

“...You bastard,” you whisper.

He shrugs, smug but soft. “You’re the one who said it doesn’t matter.”

You toss a pillow at him, flustered. “I didn’t mean you! You’re an exception.”

“Oh, so now it matters.”

You groan and cover your face, laughing. “Shut up.”

He tugs your hand away, eyes gentle now. “Wanna remind you anyway.”

You don’t argue when he pulls you onto his lap. You let him kiss your throat, take his time, whisper things that turn your cheeks hot.

And somewhere between your moans and his deep voice rasping your name, you realize you were right: size doesn’t matter.

But when it’s Daesung?

It absolutely doesn't hurt.

T.O.P

You weren’t expecting him to get all quiet.One minute, Seung-Hyun was pushing you gently down onto your shared bed, his lips grazing your collarbone, voice velvet-low with want—and the next, he froze. A pause. A sharp breath. And then he sat back on his heels, running a hand through his already-messy hair.

“Wait,” he murmured. “I need to say something first.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, blinking through your haze. “…Okay?”

He hesitated. His eyes—usually full of cocky spark or lazy affection—looked nervous. Raw.

“It’s just…” He scratched the back of his neck. “Some people have had… expectations, and I guess I just want to say it now so you’re not… disappointed or whatever. Like—” he huffed, then muttered, “size doesn’t matter, right?”

You blinked. Then blinked again. And then—something in your chest melted.

“Wait. Seung-Hyun, are you seriously worried I’m gonna judge your dick?”

He looked almost offended. “People do judge. I’m not saying you would. Just—some have.”

You sat up, cupping his face gently. “Babe. First of all, whoever said anything like that to you was an idiot. Second of all, are you really going to make me write a thesis right now about how your confidence, the way you touch me, the sound of your voice, the fact that you care—all of that turns me on a thousand times more than any size measurement ever could?”

He exhaled—half laugh, half relief. “…A thesis?”

“I’ll footnote it, too.” You smirked, pulling him in closer. “Chapter One: Seung-Hyun Is Hot As Hell and Knows Exactly What to Do With His Hands.”

His grin came back, slow and crooked. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Mmhm. And you’re mine. Now shut up and kiss me before I start writing that thesis on your back.”

He laughed again, this time deeper—freer. And when he kissed you, it was with all that nervous energy turned into something else: realness. Connection. Need.

And when things finally heated up again, you made sure to show him—thoroughly—that nothing about him could ever fall short.

Kim seo wan

You’re lying in bed with Seo Wan, legs tangled, a soft blanket pulled up to your chest as you listen to the quiet hum of the heater. It’s one of those rare calm evenings—no spiraling thoughts for either of you, no restless pacing or storm clouds hanging heavy overhead. Just the two of you and the warmth of shared space.

He’s tracing small shapes on your shoulder, quiet.

“Can I ask you something dumb?” he says eventually, almost whispering.

You blink and tilt your head. “You’ve seen me ugly cry while eating cake with my bare hands. Go for it.”

He laughs softly, but there’s hesitation in his voice. “Do you ever... wish I was, I don’t know. Bigger?”

You frown, confused for a second—until you catch where his eyes flicker. Downward. Oh.You blink again. Then laugh—not mocking, just surprised.

“Seo Wan,” you say gently, reaching over to cup his cheek. “You know that’s not even remotely a problem, right?”

He shrugs a little, but the way he chews his bottom lip gives him away. “It’s just... I know some people care about that stuff.”

“Well, I care more about the fact that you hold me like I’m something precious even when I feel like a wreck,” you murmur. “I care that you listen, that you breathe slow so I can match you when I panic, that you check in even on the good days.”

He swallows hard, eyes shining a little in the dim light.

“And besides,” you add with a sly little grin, “you’re perfect for me. More than enough. Literally and figuratively.”

He lets out a soft laugh, burying his face in your neck, warm and flustered. “God, I love you.”

“I know,” you tease, nuzzling back. “Now stop worrying about the size of your dick and kiss me, you beautiful overthinking nerd.”

And he does.

Roh jae won

You know,” you murmured, stretching lazily across his sheets, completely bare and flushed from the heat of his mouth alone, “size doesn’t matter.”

Jae-Won raised an eyebrow from where he sat at the edge of the bed, shirtless, jeans open, cock pressing obscenely against the fabric. That smirk—you’d come to fear and crave it. “Is that so?” he asked, voice all gravel and challenge.

You nodded, teasing. “It’s all about… connection. Emotion. Technique.”

He chuckled darkly, tugging his zipper down all the way. “Right. Noted.”

And then he pulled it out.

Your mouth parted slightly, all that sass vanishing in a blink. His cock was—there was no polite word—ridiculous. Long, thick, veiny, heavy. He wrapped a large hand around the base, and there was still plenty left untouched. You blinked, swallowing.

He noticed. “Something wrong?” His voice was velvet now, smug as hell.

“I just… didn’t realize you were hiding a damn third leg.”

He crawled over you slowly, muscles rippling with each shift of his hips until he hovered over you, cock resting against your stomach—and reaching past your navel. Your thighs squeezed together on instinct.

Jae-Won leaned in, kissing along your jaw as he whispered, “Still think size doesn’t matter?”

You gasped when he rubbed the thick head between your folds, teasing, soaking himself in how ready you already were. “I—I didn’t say it didn’t help,” you whispered, arching into him.

“Hmm. That’s what I thought.” One thrust, slow and shallow, just enough for you to feel the stretch—and your breath caught like he’d punched the air from your lungs. “You feel that?” he whispered against your ear.

You nodded fast, eyes glassy. “God—yes."

“Good,” he growled. “Because I’m not even halfway in.”

The rest of the night was a blur of him stretching you open, coaxing moans and curses from your lips, praising how good you took him—even when it had you trembling, legs shaking around his waist. He made you come before he even bottomed out.

And when he finally did?

You couldn’t speak.

Could barely breathe.

Later, your body wrecked and mind floating somewhere in orbit, he tucked you against his chest with a kiss to your temple and murmured:

“Size doesn’t matter, huh?”

You whined into his skin. “Shut up.”

He grinned. “Nah. I think you like it when I ruin your little theories.”

Gong Yoo/Gong Ji-Cheol

You weren’t trying to start anything when you said it.

The two of you were curled up on the couch after dinner, his long arm resting lazily across your shoulders, and some mildly terrible rom-com droning in the background. You’d been scrolling through your feed, laughing at some ridiculous thread about men and their egos, and offhandedly commented, “I mean, size doesn’t matter anyway.”

Ji-cheol tilted his head down toward you with a slow, wolfish smile. “Oh?” he said. “Is that so?”

You didn’t look up, still amused by the argument going on in the comments. “Yeah. I mean—if you know what you’re doing, you don’t need to have… you know. A monster.”

Silence.

You finally glanced up—and the look in his eyes? Dark. Amused. Dangerous. “Interesting,” he said slowly, voice dropping an octave. “You’ve never complained.”

And he stood up, just like that, offering a hand. “Bedroom. Now.”

“Wha—wait, I wasn’t—Ji-cheol—” But his fingers wrapped around your wrist, firm and unyielding, and you followed him. A little nervous. Very turned on.

Once inside, he didn’t rush. No—he took his time undressing you, brushing his mouth over your neck, your collarbone, between your thighs. It wasn’t until you were already trembling that he stood back, gaze heavy-lidded, and stripped himself bare.

And there it was.

You knew he was big. You knew it. But sometimes you forgot how big. Every time it made your stomach tighten with something between lust and fear.

You whispered, “Jesus Christ…”

He raised an eyebrow. “Size doesn’t matter, right?”

You licked your lips. “That was before I remembered what you're packing.”

He stepped forward, pressing you flat onto the bed, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “Let’s test your theory.”

The stretch was maddening.

He didn’t slam into you all at once—he knew better. No, Ji-cheol took his time, teasing you open, inch by inch, whispering things that made your toes curl.

“Still think it doesn’t matter?” he asked when you moaned, legs shaking. “Because I feel how tight you are around me, baby. Like you were made for this.”

You tried to answer—failed. Your body was too busy begging, clenching, gasping for more.He bottomed out and groaned, hips stuttering. “Fuck, look at you. Taking all of me like this… Your body loves how big I am.”Your pride was a distant memory.

All you could do was hold on.

And when he started moving, deep and slow, making sure you felt every thick inch, your mind went white-hot.

Over and over, he pushed you to the edge—then pulled you back, whispering filth in your ear, lips brushing your jaw:

“Say it.”

“Say you were wrong.”

“Say you love how big I am.”

You said it. You screamed it.And when he finally let go—when he finished inside you, hips grinding in, voice guttural—you couldn’t move for minutes. Maybe hours. Your legs didn’t work. Your brain was a puddle.

Later, curled up against his chest, you muttered, “Okay. Maybe… it matters a little.”

Ji-cheol just laughed, smug and satisfied. “Told you.”

Park sunghoon

You’ve never understood the obsession with size.

Sure, people talk. Whisper. Tease. It’s locker room nonsense, really—because none of that matters when Sung-Hoon has you laid out like this: spine arched, thighs trembling, skin hot enough to melt steel.

And he knows it. Knows it in the way he moves between your legs, slow and deliberate. Knows it in the way he licks his fingers clean after pulling them out of you, smirking like a man who’s got nothing to prove and still proves everything.

“You’re thinking too much again,” you pant, watching the way his eyes flick up at you from between your legs.“

I know what people say,” he murmurs, kissing along your inner thigh, voice smooth but quiet. “That I’m not… big. That it wouldn’t be enough for someone like you.”

You sit up a little, threading your fingers into his hair. “And yet,” you whisper, tugging him closer, “I still can’t walk straight after you’re done.”

His breath hitches. Just a bit. Confidence isn’t his mask—it’s who he is. But your words? They hit somewhere deeper.

He kisses up your body, hand sliding over your stomach, up to cup your breast. “You’re not faking that?”

You scoff, guiding him between your legs again. “Do I look like I’m faking anything right now?”

His cock is hard against your thigh—small, yes, but eager, twitching, flushed. You palm him gently, making his hips buck. His whole body reacts to your touch, and it turns you on even more than the size ever could.

He slides in slow, his lips parting as your walls take him in. You feel everything. Every shallow thrust, every roll of his hips, every moan he tries to muffle against your skin.

“See?” you whisper into his ear, breathless now. “Doesn’t matter how big you are when you know how to use it.”

And oh, he does.

He grips your hips tighter, snaps into you with short, precise thrusts that hit all the right spots. It’s messy, intimate, loud. Sweat-slicked skin and tangled limbs. You swear you black out for a second when he angles just right.

He pulls back to look at you, lips red, hair wild, the kind of expression that belongs in an 18+ scene and nowhere else.

“You’re perfect,” you whisper, after. “Exactly the way you are.”

Sung-Hoon kisses you like he believes it.

And then does it all over again—twice—just to prove that size really, really doesn’t matter.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

✦ love poem ✦

✦ Pairing: dad!choi san x pregnant!chubby!fem!reader w/ appearances by ot8

✦ Genre: fluff/light angst

✦ Summary: Being pregnant during the holidays has been hectic. Especially for your fiance San whose tight work schedule has him under pressure. But when his best friend Hwa steps in to ease the burden on him by being there for you, it creates more jealousy than Christmas cheer.

✦ Word Count: 3.5k-ish

✦ Warnings: pregnant reader, occasionally strong language, some quick lusting after San while he's in the shower (nothing graphic), & that's all.

✦ A/N: I really wanted to write something sweet with like the tiniest bit of angst so there's nothing heavy here. It's mostly just lovey dovey shit cause, I mean, I'm a lover girl. What can I say?

Standing at the entrance of the tunnel of lights, you watch in awe as thousands of tiny bulbs twinkle to the tune of the Christmas music that coasts along the night air. Every year the local zoo holds a massive festival of lights to celebrate the holiday season. During your first year here San had plans to take you to opening night but, with his schedule being as unpredictable as it is, that never did happen. This year though, he promised that nothing would stop you from experiencing this together and he meant it.

As much as San and the rest of the boys hyped this place up to you, nothing could’ve prepared you for how breathtaking it is in person. It’s magical. The carnival rides, the little Christmas themed games, the stalls selling some of the best food you ever tasted. And the displays. They’re pure art. It may be too cold for the animals to be out but the elaborate light sculptures of them make up for it tenfold. Children race through the light tunnels while couples cuddle up in line for hot cocoa. If ever “Winter Wonderland” were a place this would have to be it.

“Stop running!” Hongjoong yells from behind you. Seconds later Mingi and Jongho dart past you in a blur. You turn in time to see the look of defeat on Hongjoong’s face as he approaches with the others close behind. “I swear sometimes they act like children,” he groans, “Take it from me. Don’t have kids. It’s not worth it.” Popping on a pair of knit gloves, Yunho gestures towards the pregnant belly rounding out your thick winter coat. “I think that advice is about 7 months too late.”

Hongjoong gasps in horror, “Oh. I mean, you know, except that one. I’m sure it’ll be a cute little thing.” You can only giggle at how flustered any mention of your pregnancy gets him. Hongjoong hasn’t quite grasped that San’s about to be someone’s dad. Even as your belly has grown, he’s managed to periodically forget what’s happening but he’s trying to be supportive and it’s sweet. Seonghwa pats you softly on the belly, laying his head on your shoulder, “Pay him no mind. She’ll be a cute little baby. Not a thing. I mean, look at her mom”

"Oh, Hwa, you’re too sweet” you blush, patting him on the cheek. “The baby! I think it kicked!” He’s right. You felt it. It’s about that time of night after all. The moment she could start kicking she did. Especially around bedtime. Suddenly they’re all gathered close around you staring at your stomach as if the baby will burst out at this very moment like some alien spawn. Woo kneels down in front of you, resting his hand behind Hwa’s. “Aah!” he squeals, “She’s saying hi to her uncles. Hi, baby!”

By now Mingi and Jongho have circled back, stopping dead in their tracks to see what all the fuss is about. “What’s going on?” Jongho asks, Mingi’s hat clenched in his hand. Mingi snatches his hat back, peering over Jongho’s shoulder, “It’s not happening is it?” Seeing the panic in his eyes, you immediately jump to calm him down, “Not yet. She’s kicking up a fuss. That’s all.” “So much like her dad already” Yeosang teases, just as San appears to push them aside. “Hands off!” he orders, shooing them away, “I go to the bathroom for two seconds and you’re already crowding my kid.”

The others just laugh, not expecting to witness such a perfect example of Yeosang’s statement so soon. “You okay? Everything okay?” he asks, fixing the scarf around your next and popping your hood over your head. “Baby, it’s not that cold.” “Temperature’s supposed to drop 5 degrees in the next half hour. Gotta stay toasty, honey.” San’s always been attentive, doing everything he could to make sure you were taken care of but the pregnancy has kicked it into overdrive.

Taking his hands, you give him a warm peck on the lips and flash a smile that soothes his worries. “I’m okay, Sannie. I promise. Now let’s go.” The tunnel’s far more mesmerizing from the inside than it is simply looking in. It feels like a portal to a different world, replacing the darkness of the night sky with constellations of red and green that guide you to the next section of the zoo. Each area has one unique to the space you’re about to step into.

A tunnel of mistletoe and vines for the flower garden. One built like a giant sleigh for the reindeer village. And that’s not even half of it. How anyone can make it through this place in one night is beyond you. Then again, not everyone is toting another human around in their belly. By the time you make it through the ice tunnel into the replica North Pole, your feet are killing you but you try to hold it together.

Between doctor’s appointments, work, redecorating the apartment, and a million other things that need to be done before the baby arrives, there’s been zero time to do anything fun. Calling it quits this early feels wrong. Especially since San's been so stressed lately. Spending time with the guys seems to be just the thing he needed to shake some of that off.

“How many more lights do we have to see before we’ve seen enough?” Mingi whines, dragging his feet. Alright, so maybe someone else is as over it as you are. Yunho slaps Mingi on the back, taking a deep breath, “Have some holiday cheer! We’re in such a beautiful place. Where else would you rather be?” “Somewhere warm! With food!” Woo adds, backing Mingi up. Jongho jumps it, never one to miss the opportunity, “And drinks! When’s the last time we all had drinks together?”

Hongjoong crosses his arms, throwing them some wicked side eye, until he realizes, “Actually it has been a while since we went out for drinks.” Woo wraps his arms around Yeosang, determined to rope him into this plan, “You in? Say yes. Say yes!” “Yeah, sure fine, whatever” Yeosang laughs, shrugging him off. Hwa clears his throat, preparing to be the bearer of bad news, “Well it’s not just us you guys. There’s kinda a 10th person here now.”

For a fleeting moment, you were able to detect some excitement on San’s face and Hwa’s words wipe it away in an instant. Everyone falls silent, not quite sure what to do with the awkwardness of the moment. “Hey,” you say, lovingly rubbing San’s chest, “Why don’t you go get those drinks?” “What? No. I’m not leaving you. We said we’d do this.” “We did and I’ve had the best time but, honestly, my feet hurt like shit.” “Then I’ll take you home and run some water so you can soak your feet” San insists, guiding you out of the way of an approaching crowd.

“San, please, for the love of god, go” you beg, looking to his friends for support. “I’ll take her home!” Hwa volunteers, “I’m not really up for drinking anyway.” San glares skeptically back and forth between the two of you. He wants to protest but he gets the sense that arguing with you is a losing battle and he’s right. “Fine” he relents, “But text me when you get home. Love you.” The way you light up when he finally gives in is one of the infinite reasons why he loves you the way that he does. “I will. Love you too.” “Love you three!” “Love you four!” you say, kissing him before Jongho begins to drag him in the other direction. “We’re not doing this all night! Let’s go!”

Parting ways is a sea of goodbyes and bickering that continues until you lose sight of the rest of the group. Hooking his arm into yours, Hwa directs you towards a festive snack stand not too far away. “Wanna eat like trash before we go home?” he offers with a mischievous grin, knowing San would murder him if he knew. You nod, playfully tearing up, “I thought you’d never ask.” 

“Baby, have you seen my keys?” you shout from the bedroom, digging through your purse for the third time. “Huh?” San calls back, the water rushing from the shower making it impossible to hear you. Shuffling down the hall, you pop your head into the bathroom. “I was asking if you’d seen my keys.” San peeks from behind the shower curtain, shampoo bubbles dripping down his sculpted cheekbones. In an instant, you forget all about your keys. What else could possibly matter when San’s standing here dripping wet, every muscle in his defined chest glistening like gold. Snap out of it. This is how you got pregnant in the first place. 

“I saw them by the stove I think.” “Thanks, ya cutie” you wink, ready to skip off to find them. “Wait,” he says before you can make it more than a step and a half away, “You’re all dressed up. Where are you going?” Scanning your outfit, you don’t see anything particularly “dressed up” about what you’re wearing. Some knit overalls with a cozy sweater underneath and your favorite boots are far from red carpet ready in your mind. “Hwa’s taking me shopping for decorations. Don’t you remember?” San frowns, only vaguely remembering the conversation, “Why didn’t you ask me?” “I did but you said you were busy today so Hwa offered to take me.” 

Your phone dings in your pocket. You fish it out and find a text message from Hwa telling you he’s outside. “Ooh, speak of the devil. Gotta run.” Carefully, you make your way across the bathroom floor, giving him a kiss that you struggle to keep innocent with the knowledge of what’s behind the curtain. “Have fun and tell Joong I said hi! I’ll bring you back something!” you sing and you’re off to find your keys. San’s frozen in place, unable to bring himself to move an inch. Even after he’s heard the apartment door close, it takes him a second to get back to his shower.

It’s been two weeks since the light festival and you’ve seen Hwa every few days since. Every time San’s too busy to do something Hwa’s right there to help. When did he become so available? You always come home so happy too. Were you that happy with him? Letting the water wash over his head, he tries to shake away his jealous thoughts.

You moved here to be with him and, in that time, the only friends you’d made were his. Hwa’s just being a good friend to the both of you, helping when San’s unable to. Thinking that it's anything else is ridiculous. All of the long hours spent working must be getting to him. Hwa would never...

You would never...

Neither of you would...

Right? Right? 

Pregnancy hormones. They’re the one thing no one can ever quite prepare you for. One minute you’re hanging ornaments on the tree, humming along to your music in a cozy pair of pajamas. The next you’re crying on the kitchen floor, stuffing your mouth with the cookies you baked for the holiday party tomorrow.

It’s nearly midnight and everything makes you emotional. The lights on the tree are too bright, your feet feel swollen, the cookies aren’t as sweet as you'd like, and suddenly you can’t stand the song that’s playing despite it being one of your favorites. You want everything off but then the house would be quiet and empty. You’d be reminded that you’re all alone until San comes home tomorrow and cry even harder.

You pull out your phone to call him but when you see the time you decide not to. His flight is in a few hours and he’s already told you what a long day he had. You’d hate to wake him up, to burden him any more than you feel you already have.  Just as you’re about to put your phone down it lights up. A text from Seonghwa. Some adorable video of a cat dressed up as one of Santa’s elves.

The poor thing looks miserable running around in that costume but it makes you laugh enough to stop you from spiraling. Taking a deep breath, you wipe away the tears blurring your vision and shoot a text back. 

You: Thanks. I really needed that.

Hwa: Why? Something wrong?

You: I’m having a crying thing. Kinda sad tonight.

Hwa: Need some company?

Without thinking, you type out the words “You don’t have to—” before erasing them and typing out something new. "Sure!"

It takes him no time at all to reach you. The streets are empty this time of night and he only lives a half hour away. Even if he lived two hours away—three hours away—he’d drive every single one of them to come support you. When you became someone special to San, you became someone special to him too. He’s never seen San more serious about anything than he's been about you and this baby. As much as he wishes that San would get out of his head a bit more, it’s cute to see him love something so much. 

“Anybody home?” Hwa whispers, his eyes narrowing when he notices that your front door is cracked. “Come in” you sob from the couch, blowing your nose for what feels like the 1000th time since you sent that last text. Hwa follows a trail of discarded tissues to find you curled up on the couch, as curled as you can be this far along in your pregnancy. “Hey, hey, don’t cry” he coos, easing himself down onto the couch and resting your head in his lap, “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You try to speak but you’re too short of breath to get anything out. Hwa strokes your hair, taking slow breaths in and out, “Follow me, okay? In and out.” You shake your head in protest. The whole room is closing in around you. You can’t do it. “Just try it. For me. Please” he begs so sweetly that you can’t refuse. Deep breath in, long breath out. The same way that they taught you in those birthing classes you went to. “This is total bullshit” you’d whispered to San at one point during the class but it turns out it isn’t bullshit at all. 

After a few seconds, the tightness in your chest eases and the room begins to open up. The world isn’t falling apart anymore. You’re safe. Hwa sits with you in silence as your breathing quiets, dabbing away any rogue tears that drip down your cheeks. “Is San happy with me?” you ask, catching him off guard, “Is this too much for him, do you think?” Hwa laughs, knowing how extremely far from the truth both of those questions are. “Hwa, it’s not funny! I’m serious!” “I’m sorry! I’m not trying to make fun of you, it’s just—if you make him happy or not, that’s not a question. He’s crazy about you.”

Grabbing the small blanket folded over the back of the couch, he opens it up and tucks you in with it. “None of this is too much,” he swears, “You and her…” Hwa pokes your belly, making you giggle. “You guys are everything he’s ever wanted. He pushes himself so much because he wants to be perfect for you.” You yawn, Hwa’s presence and the warm blanket activating the exhaustion you’ve been fighting. “But he’s already perfect to me. Why can’t he see that?” “Mmm, it’s really hard sometimes to see ourselves the way other people do but he’ll come around. I promise.”

If there’s one similarity you’ve come to find between San and Hwa it’s how important promises are to them. If Hwa says he’ll come around then he will. They’d been friends for ages before you came into the picture. They’ve gone through more together than you can imagine. If Hwa's confident about it, then you have to believe it too. You drift off to sleep, your brain still spinning but much quieter now, trusting that everything will be just fine.

Right? Right? 

“Listen to yourself. You sound crazy!” Hwa snaps, trying his hardest not to raise his voice in the midst of his anger. San tosses his bags to the floor and they hit with a thud that shakes you from your sleep. “I come home to you cuddled up on the couch with her and I’m crazy?” “She texted me last night that she was crying. What was I supposed to do?” “Tell me! And let me take care of her! She’s not yours so stop treating her like she is!”

San’s jaw clenches, the jealousy he’s been harboring turning into true pain for the first time. He thought he had this under control. Those hours of talking with Woo about how stupid his suspicions were had chased off his insecurities. But coming in, tired and cranky from his flight, to see you so peacefully cuddled against Hwa had undone all of it. He wanted to kill him and the knowledge that he was the first one you reached for when you were hurting only adds fuel to the fire currently burning his self control to ash.

“Sannie?” you squeak, stretching out your cramped limbs, “What’s going on?” You sit up, eyes still squinted, to see what all of the fuss is about. Hwa hangs his head, unable to face you, “I think I should go. If you need me I’m here for both of you.” “Wait, no!” you say, doing your best to roll off of the couch and stop him but by the time you’re on your feet he’s gone. Turning your attention to San, you immediately sense his anger. Something happened and whatever it was has him fuming.

“Baby, what happened? You can talk to—” “Is there something going on between you two?” “What?” you laugh, placing your hands on your lower back for support. You keep laughing but the sharpness of his expression never changes. He’s actually waiting for an answer. “Oh god, you’re serious. You’re actually asking me if I’m fucking Seonghwa.” “I didn’t say that.” “But that’s what you’re saying. That’s what you think of me.”

You catch yourself wanting to cry again, only this time it isn’t because of the pregnancy hormones. It’s because you waited for days to see the man you love only to be accused of something like this. San can almost see the moment your heart breaks, making him regret his doubts in an instant. “He’s been helping me because I was worried about you burning yourself out. That’s it. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Your bottom lip quivers and the tears are rushing from your eyes again. “Fuck, I’m so tired of crying” you huff, flopping back down onto the couch. 

San’s at your side quicker than he’s ever been, his arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go. “I’m sorry! Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it. I know you’d never do that.” “Then why were you two arguing? Why even ask me?” “Because I’m afraid” he admits, leaving you both shocked at his admission. He’s scared, terrified, so much that it keeps him up at night. “I’m afraid I’m not good enough to be what you need me to be and it was easier to be jealous than to admit that.”

You’re frustrated enough that you could slap him but your body feels so at home in his embrace that you can’t pull away. “You’re good enough for me…for us, San. You have to believe me when I say that.” “Then why do you call him when you’re crying and not me?” “Because,” you sigh, “I’m afraid too. I don’t want to lean on you too much.” “What? Lean on me too much?” he asks, almost offended, “Lean on me all you want. What do you think I work out for?”

You giggle when you feel his muscles flex against you, “San, be serious!” “I am! Lean on me, please. We’re a team. I need you to trust me to be here.” You stare at him, your eyes beautiful enough to hypnotize him even when they’re clouded with tears. “You have to trust me to be here too, you know?” San kisses your forehead, one hand gently massaging your back, “I trust you, baby.” Closing your eyes a tingly feeling washes over you. Is it love? The Christmas spirit? The tingling is chased by a contraction stronger than any period cramp you’ve ever felt.

“The baby’s coming!” you shout, gripping your stomach. San jumps back in shock as if he didn’t know you were pregnant to begin with. “Are you sure?” “You said you trust me!” “I do! I do! Hold on!” Leaning you back on the couch, San darts around the apartment collecting all of the things he’s prepared over the last few months to make you comfortable when this happens. A bag packed with clothes for you and your favorite slippers. Phone chargers, baby wipes, stuffed animals, the snacks you love. The list is endless.

“I’ll pull the car up and come back for you, okay?” he says, propping your feet up on the coffee table as he tries to put your coat on. “Just get the car. I’m okay.” “You sure?” “I’m sure and San,” you say, grabbing his arm. “Yeah?” “You’re gonna be a great dad. The best ever.” San can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face or the slight reddening of his cheeks. You believe in him, you truly do, and for the first time, he does too.

[xuchiya]

need to know [j.yunho]

₊˚.༄ || filth valentines m.list || hongjoong || seonghwa || yunho || yeosang || san || mingi || wooyoung || jongho || ₊˚.༄

₊˚.༄ I heard from a friend of a friend That dick was a ten out of ten ₊˚.༄

  Yunho has been busy lately and you were not liking one bit of it. It has been weeks since you wanted to hang out with him and considering that he had been rejecting your invites; maybe it is time to spend some days without and let yourselves be on your own stories.

You can't blame Yunho for taking responsibility for his father's company so why would be a bad friend to him?

You dress up in less clothing for your stream much less by a short crop hoodie that shows a little of your cleavage then your tiny boxer shorts. A streamer of summer, that was your nickname given by your fans— Summer. You have always been a streamer for playing horror whether be a psychological or thrill chasing games, maybe sometimes by playing valorant.

    You were at first called out for dressing way too– short nonetheless you explain that you tend to be really comfortable with playing in less clothing and people see your excellence in playing. You throw on anti-rad glasses before starting your stream, “What is up my dudes! It’s your streamer– Summer and we’ll continue playing Poppy Playtime!”

 While waiting for the game to load, you read the comments, “Looking good as always …  Thank you … Playing alone today? Yeah since they didn’t want to play this one. San is too scared …  Where’s Yunho? Oh he’s currently busy— he’s been busy nowadays so I had to play this alone. “

  After the chapter ended, you were left with a heart attack and sore throat from getting sudden jump scare but overall you enjoy the whole game, you look towards at the camera, “Well that is it for the chapter 2 since the chapter 3 will be out soon and …” glancing at the time to see that you have been playing for just an hour, “aye it’s still early. Do you guys want me to play or just talk with you guys?”

  Some comments were saying to talk since it has been a while since you went live so you went with their request, “Okay okay I’ll answer some questions then …”

 “Since when did I start playing? I think it was around 3 years ago that I started streaming through the gameplays? I was 14 when I started doing my gameplays …”

“You dance? Of course, Yeosang and Wooyoung are actually my classmates in a studio we enrolled in.” 

“Where’s Yunho? Oh he’s at work, I’m little sad he has not been spending time with me like … Tell me your schedule, I got a lotta new tricks for you .. I’M KIDDING HAHAHA!”

“Do you like Doja Cat? Yes, a hundred percent yes, I’m a huge fan of hers speaking of that …” You opened your phone to show them your last song you listened to, “I swear this is my go to song when I’m feeling myself you know…” You chuckle showing them a hand gesture down to our body.  Some of your fans ask you to play the song, some of them want you to sing or mouth the lyrics, you cackle at the last one.

  “I can’t do that, it looks weird but we can still let this play and talk …”     The music plays—affecting not only your fans, not you who is feeling the actual lyrics but the one who has been watching from their phone ever since you started streaming. 

 “Do you want to know a french word? Je suis excite.. Je suis excite, that means I’m excited right? Excite probably is exciting .. Am I right?” you said your eyes were widened a little bit, looking at the comment section for confirmation and you see some were saying yes, right and correct.

 But little did you know, it meant something different else.

 Their pants had made themselves quite uncomfortable, tight and suffocating as their eyes not only stare at your gameplay but at your display cleavage. As much as they tried to not to look like a pervert but how could he— He has desires that he tried to stir away; afraid to ruin your friendship but with you said those words as if telling him that you are horny. Adding to the fact you just said something along the line of having ‘tricks’.

  “Ohmygosh I should go to sleep or Seonghwa-oppa would smack me in the head … I’ll see you guys soon.” You did your outro and the live ended.

  Yunho tucked back his phone, walking inside your shared apartment. He and you were able to share an apartment under your brother’s permission since they both work for the same company and he did not mind as long as you both had an agreement or house rules settled.

 Those words were a huge trigger to him as he had been evading your presence; as much as dumb it sounds, his dick can not cooperate with him. Whether you were in your hoodie or favourite pajamas, nothing beats when he wants you all for himself. Love you, praise you, worship you, choke you, dick you down—

  “Oh yuyu!” You were startled when you exit your room to see Yunho leaning on the counter with a cold drink in his hand, his eyes landing on your figure and all his last string snap when you just walk in with your zipper open, exposing your tits out.

  You tried to cover them last minute but Yunho was faster, grabbing your wrist, spinning you to pin you on his chest. He leaned down, voice gruff from the pain in his pants and overwhelming horniness spilling out of his body, “nice way to greet me … tits out? Do you walk around with this …” his other free hand ran up to your chest, playing with your nipple and giving it a squeeze, making you moan a little too loud but to Yunho's liking.

 “I-I thought you won’t be home … fuck! “ Yunho breathy laugh, giving your other boob the same treatment but this time adding a slap on it, your back arching in the pain and pleasure making your ass brush up on his hard dick in his pants. 

  “Feel that? you’re the cause of it … now be a good girl for me and choke yourself on my cock.” 

  

“F-fuck! … Yunho– Oh my God!” your face was red and sweaty from how many hours Yunho had you pinned down on your bed, taking you from behind; had his dick ramming himself back and forth, hitting every inch of your walls then his tip knocking at your cervix several times as if trying to reach a deeper part of you to bury his cum.

  “You don’t know how long i wanted to fuck you so dumb that it makes me want to go faster and harder on you .. do you like that? Do you want me to keep hammering you down on this bed like a bitch on heat?” You never knew Yunho was into this kind of thing, rough and mouthy.

 You were crying out of pleasure as Yunho drilled his cock deeper and deeper until you clench around him that had him smacking his (veiny) hands on your ass, “Yu-Yunho— eugh fuck– I’m gonna cum, gonna cum– !” Yunho continues slamming his hips as your eyes roll back as you reach your orgasm, creaming his dick and milking him dry. Yunho chuckles, wrapping one of his hands around your throat, pulling you closer, bottomless.

  “You like that huh? You like it when I fuck you this hard?” You dive on the sheets, Yunho's pace persistent in making his dick wet and creamy on your puffy pussy. You look over your shoulders, engulfed in overwhelming bliss, you speak with assertive tone, “clap me, choke me, bite me Yunho.” 

 Yunho pulls out, leaving just the tip inside as he adjust his grip from your throat down to your hips, in spite of that he shoves back while you pulling back, “FUCK!” you cried, your fingers circling around his wrist, “Yu-yu — wait you’re going too fast.”

 He shakes his head, his eyebrows arching, tongue poking the inside of his cheek, “I haven’t cum yet and we can fuck all night baby.” He keep thrusting back and forth,leaning forward to grasp both of your nipples in his fingers, twisting, pulling them.

  Your head swirling with so much euphoria that it sent electricity vibrating down your pussy as you were reaching your second orgasm quickly, this time a little different from the last one, long strings of ‘oh’ and ‘fuck’.

  “Tell me baby, i need to know one thing …” He licks his lips, pressing you on his bare chest, continue to pound inside of you, almost nearing his climax, “come on baby, i didn’t fuck you that dumb did i? Now answer me.”

  You were breathing hastily, orgasm around the corner but you know best that if you don’t speak now, Yunho won’t let you cum, “Wh-What is it?”

  “Have you been fantasising about this one? Did someone tell you?” You nodded, your head moving swiftly, you felt his chest vibrate as he breathy laughs, “Yeah? 

“ y-yes…”

“From who?”

  Your throat clogged yet you oblique, moaning when his tip brushes on your cervix once again, your dignity slowly crashing but who could you blame? You were fantasising all of this for the longest time that you slipped out to one of your friends about your huge daydream to Yunho that one of your friends may or may not slip about him.

  “I heard .. I heard from a friend of a friend … that your dick is better than their exes.” His hip halted, pulling out— groaning at the emptiness but you were taken back when Yunho pulled you off the bed and towards your balcony; your eyes widened as he pushes you the makeshift knitted lounge chair.

  “Well one …” yunho’s lips brush on your ears warmly, “I have never met your friends …” He inserted himself back in, slamming back on your pussy, “And second well .. they’re not wrong.”

 Yunho pace didn’t falter as he locked his arms on yours, your arms pulled on your back; your chest full on display, bouncing each time Yunho hammered back. Broken groans left Yunho and you were also reaching your climax, “Fuck yunho!” 

 “Take my cum like a good girl!” Your eyes were clouded in euphoria, feeling full as he spurted all his cum inside you, painting your walls white. Your hole clenches on his dick before gushes of your juice burst, wetting his dick and the lounge chair.

  Yunho let go of your arms and replace his softening dick with his fingers, brushing them left and right as you squirt, your lips puckering

“Oh look at that, such a good girl. Keep squirting baby~” Yunho slaps, wipe your pussy letting you ride on your orgasm before he pulls away. Your knees gave out, thankfully Yunho caught you, wrapping his arms around your shoulder and at the back of your knees. He leads you both to your bathroom, setting you on the cold marble tile of your sink.

   Yunho settles you on the bathtub, warm water with bubbles of rose were floating on the water. You sigh contentedly, “Is this what I get for flashing you my boobs to you?”

  He laughs, shaking his head as he settles at the other end of the tub, “You want a princess treatment?” His eyes watch you carefully, cheek flaring. You played with the foam bubbles, “If you don’t mind me being your girlfriend then yeah, I want a princess treatment.”

Yunho leans towards you, leaving a soft kiss on your lips, "Deal."

 It was something you and Yunho had in common. Straightforwardness. Yet here you both are, in a situation you thought is just all in your head and fantasy.

[signanothername]

Weird question but I’m just curious

If you could add any character- doesn’t have to be a sans, into the bad sans’s who would you add?

this isn’t really about if it would work with your take on nm but more what character would you find the most interesting to have in that situation

Ngl can’t choose one single character so imma give a few dhhdhdhdhhd

Horror!Undyne, fell Papyrus, Geno, Fatal Error, or Color

Having H!Undyne in the same work space as Horror would be a bit fun I think, they hate each other with a passion, but I think that this might be an experience that they both see eye to eye to, definitely will not make them like each other, but their relationship might develop into something a tiny bit better (either that or become even worse than it already is), it will definitely a humbling experience for Undyne tho, can’t be a queen under the king

Fell Papyrus is still Papyrus at his core despite his edgier look, I think it’ll be fun to see his relationship with MTT, and how it might develop, whether for better or worse, and whether MTT be willing to take a punch or two for him or vice versa, and how he might handle Nightmare considering he’s already in the royal guard

Geno to me is someone who’s pretty much done with life, i don’t think Nightmare would be intimidating to him, regardless of how powerful he is or his otherworldly abilities, or his emotional and mental manipulation, Nightmare cannot break what’s already broken, and he sure as hell will never change Geno’s moral views, it would be fun to see Geno be at odds with Nightmare, and how he might view MTT

Fatal, a highly unstable error with one goal in mind, so the question of how he might take his kidnapping by Nightmare is an interesting one, obviously badly, but how badly? How will he react to his mission being interrupted and even taken away from him? What does an error do when their one purpose is out of reach? What will he do to MTT, considering the fact two of them killed their brothers themselves and one fed human meat to his own? I don’t think Fatal would like any of them at all, and he sure is not going to like Nightmare

Color obviously isn’t fond of hurting people, and that in of itself might cause problems, but I think Color’s existence might end in him getting under Nightmare’s nonexistent skin as time goes on, Color isn’t afraid of speaking his mind and he will call Nightmare’s bullshit out, go out of his way to help MTT where he can, and has enough patience to outlast Nightmare’s games

[discordiansamba]

thinking! even more about the blue exorcist changeling au bc why not:

fae, even powerful ones, can't really use the Name Thing effectively on demons- some of them simply have so many names that its difficult to truly determine what is a true name. theoretically this gives them the upper hand, but of course it's not necessarily that simple.

local unseelie prince still associated with fire.

gedoin gets tricked into giving his name to rin. as a treat. for rin. it's only fair! he hurt izumo, after all.

if shiemi's true form is a cute typical fairy, rin's true form should be two steps away from being an eldritch horror. as a treat.

rin: i don't like showing it to people cause it's embarrassing though!

shima, who saw exactly what he did to gedoin and what he looked like while doing it: i don't think embarrassing is the right word for it.

(characters who have seen rin's true form: yuri and shiro, yukio, shiemi, izumo, shima, mephisto.

everyone else just assumes the white haired glamour fully off rin is his true form. except lewin, who knows better.)

extremely funny running gag of rin glaring at shima with just a tiny bit of his true self showing through but only when no one else is looking at him. STOP hitting on my brother already.

shima: hahaha. no.

rin: i would be fine with people showing interest in yukio. just not shima.

(he does this to lewin too sometimes, for different reasons. HEY. suguro's my friend. stop making him wash your damn socks.

lewin: your friend whose name you own?

rin: yeah????

he will also do this to mephisto but it's entirely ineffective.)

rin looking at the chimera zombies: huh. fucked up.

(shima just looks at him like. you of all people have no right to say that. rin's very offended when he says this to his face later.)

a few fae are mistaken for demons. sylphs are absolutely fae. lewin just happens to be a master of contracting both demons and fae. unstoppable man.

lewin, looking at rin: hm. quick question. what the fuck is that.

shiro: that is my son whom i love very much. no more questions.

yukio deciding to become an exorcist on his own terms, but somehow ending up with his fae brother in class with him. nii-san. what are you doing here.

rin: izumo's here! also I don't like the fact that shima is here.

i don't know how The (Shima) Reveal happens, but the absolute mindfuck of finding out that your childhood friend was replaced a year ago... except your childhood friend was actually a fae that replaced the original shima renzou. it's a lot to take in.

and that's before you find out two of your cram school classmates are actually fae. and one of them is of the malevolent variety.

rin is still just a genuinely cheerful and friendly guy. he likes humans a lot! he just like some humans more than others. and will do anything in his power to protect them.

shiemi's true form might be that of a cute little fairy, but she's actually quite powerful herself.

greenmen and flower fairies tend to just be two peas in a pod, which is how shiemi manages to summon nee despite not actually being human.

shiro, looking at rin's report card: yuri. can the fae have ADHD.

izumo gradually understands that her fae mother does actually love her in her own right and that she might not get what she wants even if she does sever her and her sister's bond to her. please refrain from kidnapping anymore kids though please.

[vagabond-umlaut]

two shots of ristretto, please!

One must have heard of espresso, but ristretto? No?

Well, translated to 'restricted' in Italian, ristretto is another version of espresso, but of a sweeter and more intense quality than the latter— though, you reckon, there's no entity in this world, sweeter and more intense than that white-haired, blue-eyed enigma-turned-menace of yours.

▸ yakuza heir! gojo satoru x uni classmate! fem! reader; TIMESKIP; dad! gojo satoru x mom! reader; FLUFF AND HUMOR GALORE; popularising the headcanon that gojo is so terrifyingly gojo for everyone, except his crush; the said crush's smart & not dense, for the first time in my stories; there is yakuza so there's a gun and there's a tiny bit of violence; brief appearance of utahime, shoko, suguru & nanami; POST-TIMESKIP: the most adorable twins ever, sachiko and sachiro, are back, with tons and tons of fluff!!!!!

▸ belongs to the series 'tang!' — same universe as the work 'every rose and its 'twin prickles'' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

▸ i know i described the reader to be smart and stuff, but the thing is: she is smart, of sorts, that is. and the post-timeskip portion is tooth-rottingly fluffy but not for satoru; sachiko & sachiro will never let their papa get some loving from their dearest mama... AND this is 4.4k wc long— idk how i wrote so freaking much! anyways, whatever it is–

▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

Gojo Satoru was born with three things.  

His name. 

His looks.  

And, of course– the baggage certain to tag along with the above two. 

Cup of coffee languishing in the frost of your ignorance, you lock gaze, the first time, with the famous infamous scion of the Gojo’s, an awfully stormy morning at the café your friend works at.  

Said friend looks halfway on the path to sweet, sweet dreams, resting her head on folded arms on your table — smiling, you tuck a wayward strand of hair behind the shell of her ear, and return to your sly spying on the group seated couple of feet away. You think you see Gojo look at you yet another time — it must be an error of your eye, you reckon, given how he's giving a sharp grin to the man across from him, in the very next instant.  

Yeah, that's what it is. No one can possibly switch from shooting that level of thoughtful gaze to that level of feral grin in that short span of time. Yeah, it must have been a mistake of your silly eye.  

Anyways, whatever it is, to say you hate drawing attention to yourself will be the greatest understatement of the century— so you decide to look away for a beat, to avoid even the faintest hint of suspicion, eyes going back to the chemical reactions strewn across the mess you call notes— only to snap back to the white-haired boy, widening in horror from the click! then the scene crashing onto your brain.  

Gojo chuckles, eyes flitting from the gun aimed at the space between his eyebrows to the man holding it. "Aww," you register him croon, that self-sabotaging dumbass, "resorting to such cheap violence so quickly, Zenin-san? Grew tired of a civil conversation already? Tsk. What a pity." 

Another time and you think you'll consider this precise moment to be when you wake your friend up and slowly sneak away into the kitchen then out, via the back door. Another day and you know you'll consider this very second to be when you return your focus to your assignment on carbohydrates, all the while hoping you or your friend won't be cast into a brawl none of you are a part of— 

Too bad it isn't another time or another day, though.  

Biting back a grimace, you shut your laptop and rise from your chair with a loud clatter. 

"Forcing someone isn't really a nice way to make a deal, y'know," you hum, walking over to their table and plopping down onto the free seat next to Gojo, "what is better is to explain the pros and cons to the one opposite to you and try to convince them. Gently. And if that doesn't work, manipulate the hell out of them. But this?" you shoot the metal gun a disappointed glance, shaking your head, "this is a method even I know I shouldn't use to get my rival to agree to something, though I'm not from a criminal background." 

The man– Zenin, you correct yourself; the second largest yakuza clan right after Gojo's family, your memory supplies after a beat – gives a slow look from the weapon to you, a scowl appearing on his features. And barks – voice, a disgusting grating noise to your sleep-deprived self.  

"Who the fuck are you, girl? And why the fuck are you interfering in this?"  

You pause. Okay, this wasn't what you were expecting when you first strolled out here. You were expecting a yell, a scuffle; worst case, the gun aimed at your precious brain. But this? One question about your identity, and the other about your reason for approaching them? You haven't prepared yourself for this! 

Frowning, you cast a glance to your left, only to find the white-haired boy stare at you, staggered, with wide eyes and flushed cheeks; then at your friend who's snoring away like she doesn't give a damn about napping at work; then at the man glowering at you.  

You sigh, rubbing your temples. 

"Who the fuck I am... that's for me to know and for you to find out,” you answer, smirking, before growing serious again as you rush to explain, upon catching a murderous glint in the man’s eyes, “I mean, c'mon, y'all are the yakuza. This should be a piece of cake for you, shouldn’t it?"  

The man's glare only worsens in result; stamping down the apprehension in your mind, you continue, "And as for why the fuck I'm interfering in this—"  

You abruptly fall silent.  

Offering the boy beside you a panicky glance.  

Wondering what the hell you can say in reply. 

Should you say, "I've been listening to you threaten the poor boy for a good thirty minutes now, saying he's gonna face dire consequences, or some shit like that, if he doesn't share the area in the east with the Zenin's or refuses to marry their third daughter— who I'm pretty sure, y'all have made into nothing but a maid, a cook and a broodmare. Poor girl, being spoken of by her own family member to a stranger boy, as if she isn't a human being but something with no life or ambition. But, hey, how you raise your kids is honestly your own problem and I’m not here to drill some lesson into your head– though I guess, folks like you could really use some. Anyways, whatever the fuck it is, I'm here because I JUST CAN'T SEE ANOTHER BEING FORCED TO DO SOMETHING AGAINST THEIR WILL. AND I’M GONNA PROTEST AGAINST IT AS LONG AS I’VE A BREATH LEFT IN MY LUNGS." 

The inner-you tsks at the outer-you.  

You groan inwardly, shifting to the next plan already.  

So, must you say, "Gojo's my classmate, who has been sitting behind me since the first class of the year, and very weird to say, but I have also been finding him here at this coffee shop, every day I visit since that day, sitting at this specific table and scribbling in a notebook for hours at end— and, yeah, way weirder to admit out loud, but I guess I have also formed some kind of attachment to him? 'Cause of which, I feel, I get worried when I see him being actively threatened? And, yes, of course– all the while I totally ignore that he's next in line to a notorious criminal family or the fact that he's never even noticed me once before today." 

Another click! bounces off the walls into your ears, making you draw away from your mind back to the situation at hand. You settle for offering a shrug.  

"Why I'm here is because Gojo is one of my acquaintances and I just can't seem to stand someone being forced to do something against their will." 

Your statement earns a mocking laugh from the man, but before you rush to defend yourself and the fact you spoke the truth, a calloused palm rests on your forearm. Gojo's gaze flits from you to the gun still pointed at him then back to you. You feel a mild tremor in his fingers when they meet your skin. Good heavens, Gojo must be really scared, huh? 

His careful voice reaches you, a far cry from the haughty tone he was employing with the Zenin fellow earlier, "It's best if you leave now. Go take your friend and go away. And don't come back here. At least not until sometime later, yeah? Things are gonna get a hell lot messy and I don't want you to see that." 

For the first time in many days, the buzz of caffeine in your veins weakens, giving way to the thrum of worry you feel at Gojo’s words. Has this bastard already accepted his fate!? Hell no! Not if you can help it!!  

You give his arm a light pat. 

"While I leave you here, all alone, huh?" Shaking your head, you click your tongue. "Nope! Not gonna happen, mister. My parents raised me way better than that. Besides, you might not be knowing me but I've been knowing you for a while now, and despite what everyone says of you being the crown prince, or whatever, in the underworld — I ain't leaving you here, with your life at the mercy of a person who doesn't even have a shred of respect for others' freedom of choice and stuff." 

A noisy yawn sounds in the background, soon followed by a noisier series of snores. Gojo's mouth opens and closes a few times, like a funny fish, before he inquires, voice brimming with disbelief, "You... have noticed me? Since when?" 

You blink, then chuckle. "Of course, I have. Since the first day, if I'm being honest here," you reply, then add as a hasty after-thought, so that he doesn't see you as a weirdo, "I mean, it's tough not to notice you, y'know? Not when you're—" 

A deafening crash interrupts you in the middle of your sentence. You look away from the boy to find the man standing now, face contorted in a mix of fury and desperation while he shifts the gun's muzzle from Gojo to you, then back to Gojo, words leaving him in a harsh yell. 

"THE GIRL NOTICED YOU 'CAUSE YOU'RE THE GOJO SATORU AND YOU'RE HANDSOME AS FUCK. NOW, CAN YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP, BITCH? AND YOU — YOU SICK, SPOILT GOJO BRAT– YOU SAID YOU DON'T HAVE A MINUTE TO SPARE? BUT HERE YOU ARE, CHATTING YOUR LIFE AWAY WITH THAT GIRL—" 

A second deafening crash reverberates through the small shop– and you think you see your life flash before your eyes– but not before the man drops to the ground, most probably unconscious and hopefully not too damaged to lead a functional life, and very earnestly not dead. The gun clatters to the ground beside him. You turn to your classmate, eyes wide. Gojo returns your gaze, unblinking and slack jawed. 

Heart thundering in your ears, you hurry to explain yourself, "I–" 

"You smashed that plate on that guy's head." 

Gojo’s blunt words bring you to a still, making your eyes drift to the fragments of the unlucky glass plate, to the unluckier but-totally-deserved-it Zenin, then back to your classmate. A little more awe on the boy’s face and you think his jaw might hit the floor.  

You nod slowly. 

"Yeah, but as self-defence. I mean, you saw how eccentric that man was acting, right? I had to do something to protect both of us," you explain, looking away from the pair of blue eyes watching you closely, to your friend who still seems to be lost in the land of sleep (how much exactly did she drink last night, huh?) to your grey sneakers, voice growing mumbled with every other syllable you utter.  

"But that doesn't mean you've to feel some sort of debt towards me or anything. I too was kind of at mistake then, I guess... what with me rambling so fucking much when there was a literal gun at your head. I should have acted with more tact then – if I had done so, then maybe this mess could've been avoided. I mean, I've never seen these things before in my life, y'know? Except in TV shows, that is. Yet, this foolish me here thought she could just swoop in and save you like some sort of a hero..." 

Sullen, you trail off, face growing warm from embarrassment whilst your mind devises a plan on how to clear up the mess you created, many thanks to your foolhardy nature, when a muffled laugh reaches you. Gojo's eyes twinkle in enjoyment at the bewildered huff you give him.  

"You did save me like a real hero back then, y'know," he says, grinning a wide grin – before it disappears, making way for a much reserved, much shyer(??) version. A giggly voice within you whispers he looks just as sweet as he did with his cute dimples. The boy continues, carding a hand through his mess of white hair, with a casual glance at the man, "And, as for the mess you keep mentioning, don't you worry. Gun shots create more mess than a plate smashed on the head. And if I can clear that within a minute– this won't even take me a full second, Miss Hero. Don't you worry for this at all. But, yeah, thank you." 

Now, you don't really know if it was the sincerity in his voice as Gojo thanked you, or the fact that he has to clean up the mess you made in the first place, or the stunned feeling so clearly visible in the blue colour of his irises when you admitted to noticing him— whatever it is, you find yourself not wanting to leave anything unsaid between you both.  

Moreover, the realization that lives are considered extremely low-on-value in the world of crime, so much that guns are whipped out at the tiny disagreements or boasts are made on how quick a gunshot mess can be cleared by them — this realization doesn't make things any easier for you. 

Giving the injured man and your napping friend a momentary glance, you return your focus to Gojo, whose eyes are now narrowed at his mobile, and speak those words weighing heavy on your mind right now.  

"I really noticed you since the first day, Gojo," you say. The boy pauses his typing, confused gaze darting to you. "But not just 'cause you're the Gojo Satoru, or 'cause you're really pretty — which you totally are, by the way— but mainly because you had ambled into our first class, on the first day, a magnificent hour late, with your two friends— and my first thought seeing you was, what sort of a fucking entitled brat is this guy, sauntering in as if he owns the entire place." 

A beat passes before the boy erupts into chuckles, though the tense quality of them doesn't escape your notice. Pocketing his mobile, he shoots you a small smile. "And what about noticing me after that? It was just my name and looks which kept your attention hooked onto me, wasn't it?" 

The question– the mumbled way it was asked, more so– sends you into a brief bout of musing silence. Gojo's eyes remain trained on you the entire while — quite contrary to the innumerable adjectives you've heard to describe them: oceanic blue, sparkling blue, mesmerising blue, kind-of-startling blue– you think they're just... blue. So blue, you wonder if there's anything as blue as that gaze peering down at you.  

Perhaps not. 

Lips curving into a smile, you hum, "Yes and no. Yes, 'cause that was the main reason why my eyes kept trailing you whenever we were in the same place. No, 'cause they were the reasons only until I realised what kind of person you are, and how very different you're from what I first thought of you. I got new reasons after those." 

"Mind telling me those new reasons?" 

Gojo's nervous question widens the smile on your face. Casting your friend a glance — goodness, how many drinks did she really have at the party she went to last night — you reply, making your voice light and friendly, "Your personality made me curious. You are old money, with good looks to boot— you're literally the heartthrob of every girl on campus! Still, I've never seen you with anyone from them— never with anyone outside your group of three friends — though, I got to admit, the blond boy looks nothing less than constipated for a week, when he talks to you." 

That last comment draws a chuckle from the white-haired boy. The tightness in his shoulders seems to relax a bit, you note with relief. Face still carrying the same smile as before, you continue speaking.  

"And the second point which made me curious was how different you behave in different places. Your voice rings across the cafeteria every day during lunch yet you stay so quiet here for hours at end. You once said you've never been much of a book person, yet I always see you in this shop, immersed in your notebooks. And– what has struck me the most of all is the way you tend to go out of you way to annoy others – I've been sitting in front of you in class for a good three months now, yet you've never ever irritated me in the slightest. Kind of strange, ain’t it?" 

Stunned silence comes as the answer to your question, what with the addressed classmate of yours, rooted to his spot on the ground, blue eyes as round as the plate you had smashed on the man's head some time ago and the expression on Gojo's face, almost as if you've grown a couple of heads in the while you have been chatting with him.  

Or more like monologuing, now that you think about it.  

This guy is always so chatty with others: he was even then with that gun cocked to take his life — then why the fuck is he so unspeaking right now, eh? 

"Oh God, Satoru, I can't believe your plan of lurking in the places she goes to, to catch her eye, worked out!!" "Are you asking her out right now, bro?" "Can you all please move? It's raining like hell outside and I'm not really keen to get my leather jacket wet, thank you." 

The noisy rumbles of rain and thunder stream in through the opened door, before the latter is closed again, snapping you out of your internal monologue, a bit too sudden and harsh for your liking. Three pairs of eyes regard you with an utmost curiosity — you return them a blink before dragging your eyes away and looking at the boy a good foot away, only to find him resolutely staring at the overhead lights. Two pretty long (and pretty weird) seconds pass before you finally decide to tear your gaze away from him to the rain-soaked glass window of the eatery.  

A face with creased brows and warmed cheeks greets you from your reflection.  

Screwing your eyes tight shut in an attempt to ward off an annoying headache you can feel build up, slowly yet steadily, you let out a sigh.  

Friendship with the Gojo Satoru seems good enough but romance with the Gojo Satoru... that doesn’t seem half-as-good, right? 

Right? 

"Wrong." 

Your son's insistent voice, coupled by the tiny fist he slams down on the table, breaks you out of your reverie and you turn to find Sachiro wearing a frown, tears brimming in his eyes– eyes which move away from his father and sister to you, pinning your drowsy form beneath the weight of their moisture.  

Stifling a weary sigh, you place the menu card back on the table and coo, "Aw, Sachiro! What's wrong, baby? Are Papa and Sachiko saying mean things to you again? Are they still teasing you regarding today's incident?" 

Although, you suppose to yourself, catastrophe might suit what happened today, way more than the word 'incident'— what with the shrieks, cries and yells resounding through your flat in the short time you took to get ready for your Sunday lunch at a restaurant. Rubbing his eyes a little, the little boy scoots closer to you and nods weakly, wrapping his tiny arms round you. Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, you direct a stern look at the two sitting across from you.  

Sipping on the welcome drink, Sachiko just shrugs back at you.  

"I'm not the wrong person here, Mom. He is," your daughter explains, pointing a finger at her brother, then retracting it at your frown. Your husband snickers from beside her. “Yeah, sweetness, it’s Sachiro who’s wrong. Getting confused on when’s your birthday is no small mistake. Besides, our darling little munchkins taunt me the entire time if I ever make a mistake, no? Can’t see why they can’t stand a taste of their own medicine, then.” 

The sobs muffled into the cotton of your dress grow in intensity and misery. Sending her father a vicious stink eye, your daughter moves to observe you and her brother, a cute little frown on her face.  

"Okay, fine," she relents after a short beat, returning the lemonade to the table, "Guess I was a little wrong. Maybe I shouldn't have teased him so much, along with Papa, for messing up the date of your birthday. I also should not have said, he doesn't love you, some time back."  

A very weighted moment passes. The little girl jumps off her seat and reaches your side of the table, tiny arms reaching out to wrap around her brother. It takes a minute, and a small nudge from your side but soon enough, your two kids are hugging each other; Sachiro, a wailing mess, whilst Sachiko, being the older of the twins that she is, keeps saying 'sorry's' and patting his head, the exact same way their father does to them in times of their grave distress — when they throw a tantrum and get a nice long lecture from you, that is.  

Fond smile creeping onto your lips, you tear your gaze away from the two adorable angels of your life to your husband.  

Relieved to find him sans any teasing smile, you receive a gentle look from him, his hand reaching out to interweave his fingers through yours. You let him with a content hum, basking in the simple domestic joy seeping in through the sweetly scented air of the restaurant. A pair of plush lips press to your palm; biting back a giddy giggle, you throw the owner of said luscious lips a meaningful wink.  

Though... you doubt how much of your meaning could be conveyed to him... given how the two of you jerk back from each other a mere instant later, at the loud clearing of a throat from Sachiko and an angry 'Papa! Go away!' from Sachiro.  

Stomping back to her chair and settling into it with some effort and a huff, you watch an extremely pissed shadow form over the little girl's face, worsening as she twists and cranes her neck up to face her father. You really, really think your husband must not chuckle in this way in the face of such a thunderstorm— not when your daughter is shooting daggers with her gaze; and certainly not when your son is shooting that gloating smirk at him.  

Another time and you think you’ll look at that glare and at that smirk, then proceed to be on cloud-nine, realizing your children, despite being xerox copies of their father (both in looks and manners), did inherit certain features from you as well— something which a terribly competitive voice inside your head claims, is a great win— now, however, is decidedly no such time.  

Not when the person you’ve loved for these many years and know, will continue to do so for an eternity, looks one step away from being tormented to death– by none but the two milk-toothed lights of both of your lives.  

You watch Sachiko’s frown deepen, more than should be possible for someone her age, then begin. 

"Papa, I'm sorry but I have to break our deal. Sachiro is right. We two are the strongest duo of twins in the multiverse — we can't let you break our team this way. So, what if my brother makes a mistake? He's a young baby and babies are allowed to make mistakes, aren't they?"  

You wonder if she truly understands she was born a mere six minutes prior than her brother... and not six whole years, as appears to be the case right now. Holding back chuckles, you spare the person, addressed in the ‘not-really-apology' apology, an amused glance, then nod your head solemnly at her words.  

"They are, baby. They so are," you agree in the very next instant, then ask, a genuine inquiring inflection to your tone, "But what deal did Papa make you agree to, baby? Sounds pretty serious to me, to be honest." 

"Oh, it wasn't anything, sweet cheeks," your husband begins with an awfully nervous-sounding chortle; too bad, your daughter is quick to beat him to it. Throwing him a smirk, you can only describe to be devious, she looks back at you and grins. "Two weeks back, Papa found me in the living room, late at night, staring at shooting stars through the windows. And I found him walking away from the kitchen, eating a giant chocolate bar. Papa said you’ll be very mad because we didn’t listen to what you said, so, we should make a deal and become a team to keep this a secret from you." 

"Papa made that deal– only to divide us. So, our strong team can be destroyed and he can easily defeat us and keep you all for himself, Mama," your son chips in, puffy eyes narrowed into a very hard glare. Your daughter agrees vehemently from the opposite side.  

Your eyes drop to the glass of lemonade before you; you try your best to stifle the yawn.  

This fight over your affection has been going on since the time your children turned four or so... and despite them nearing an age of six in few months, no end can be seen in the horizon, to this war raging within your home...  

And as for the matter of Sachiko being awake way past her bedtime? You reckon you can't really do much on this, other than repeating the rules and the reasons behind each one of them– especially of punctuality and an adequate sleep– to her, like you did the last time... though, you think of toning your lecture down a little this time, considering it wasn't a video game but a meteor show she had stayed awake for... besides you too used to be — okay, no, wait, what??? 

Your husband's sheepish grin collides with the incensed glare you aim his way over the table. Letting out a frustrated huff of an exhale, your face turns away from his, choosing to stare at itself in the clean glass windows instead — too, too mad to acknowledge that white-haired, blue-eyed menace of yours, whining apologies with a pitiful gaze.  

You screw your eyes shut and let out a sigh. 

Being married to the yakuza king, Gojo Satoru, is a story, you deem, it couldn’t have been better, but being married to the sweet fiend, Gojo Satoru?  

Oh, sweet– no, strike that, you fucking hate that word—  

Oh, sour heavens above.  

That's a different story altogether. 

▸ if you've reached this point and still love me and/or my writing, istg I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH. writing something inspired by one's self-ship is so satisfying but so difficult, ngl. A BIG TYYY TO YOU WHO IS READING THIS LINE RN AFTER READING THIS MONSTROSITY OF A ONESHOT *sniffles*

▸ masterlist

[llamagoddessofficial]

Still got that Horror Mafiafell Sans brainrot

---

It wasn’t the first time Sans had pulled you into his lap, by any stretch of the imagination. The wads of cash he so often put in your pocket to ‘make up’ for the time you spent trapped had been difficult to explain to the bank at first- by now, it had happened so often that the tellers just got a look on their faces when they saw you walk in

They called you by name without looking at any paperwork. They probably thought YOU were in the mafia.

It was common bar knowledge how fond he was of holding you through his meals. Nowadays, Lisa would jokingly 'warn' you when he came through the doors and his mood was visibly stormy... the deeper his glower, the more likely he was to pull you in without warning when you passed his table, those giant claws sealing tight around a body that immediately became tiny in his presence.

So you should've been used to it.

...

... Something was very new about this time. And it wasn't just the lit cigar between his phalanges, different to his usual brand of choice.

Up against his huge chest. Your cheeks were hot, your heart was thumping. His touch was... different. Sat sideways across his lap, he kept you tucked against him with a hand on your thigh. Though on your thigh was a little bit of an understatement- his hand was so huge, he had nearly all of your thigh in his hold. 

The other hand, resting on the table, had the cigar held between the index and middle finger. It felt like an impenetrable barrier between you and the outside world... his gold rings gleaming in the low light.

... Perhaps it was the position of his hand. Holding your thigh gently, but with a possessive hint in the curl of his claws that slightly pressed into your flesh. Big, warm bones, the cold metal of the rings... he was holding you like he owned you.

Either way, you were just staring at his jacket lapel. Finding it very hard to cool down. The smell of smoke and gold was overpowering.

(You’d grown pretty adept at just tuning all table conversations out, for fear of overhearing something dangerous. But today, you couldn’t have concentrated on what was being said to Sans by the other two men at the table, even if you tried to.)

You didn’t know what the meeting he was having was about, and whatever it was, he didn’t seem happy about it. But he wasn't furious in a way that would usually frighten you. His energy was much more... reserved. There was a low scowl written across his face, he looked serious, dark. The crack and his scars cast deep and expressive shadows across his face. You were protected from the entire world, like this.

... Usually, you just felt like a tiny plushie in the arms of a big child who needed comforting. Not this time. And as he brushed his thumb slowly, back and forth across your leg... the prickles ran up your spine.

What's wrong with me? You swallowed. Your heart hadn't slowed down, not one bit, hands balled in your apron. What's going on?

... You heard Sans move, above you. You couldn't help but look up at him- and his big eye moved down to you. He seemed to register your altered state, for the first time, emerging a little from his obvious frustration at the other members of the table.

...

... His expression changed. Something about him shifted, ever-so-slightly.

His grin lifted, sharpened... his sockets fractionally lidded. 

He was smirking at you.

You’d grown accustomed to gleaning as much as possible from Sans’ expressions. It was how you judged his mood, how you saw his grabs coming, how you guessed what he was trying to say with the few words he had available. 

Perhaps you were too good, now. Because when he leered down at you like that, gently squeezing your thigh... you could practically hear his words purring through your mind.

“aren’t you cute~?”

You immediately broke eye contact, staring at your own knees. But it to was too late- you felt heat completely flood your face.

... Sans returned his attention to the other people at the table. But not before he gave your thigh another little stroke with his thumb. As if making sure you absolutely knew he saw that.

...

You faintly recalled hearing that Sans, before his famous injury, was something of a... playboy. If you were completely honest, it had been very hard to picture the Sans you knew successfully wooing someone.

...

You could imagine it, now. Very, very well.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Artist Woes

Hello everyone! I am back with my BS as always and more baby nightmare shenenigans! @spotaus Hope you ready :D

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Ink is a very interesting Pov to write! It was fun! And as always. No beta or anything :D We here to have fun!

*---------------------*

Ink hums a happy song as he slowly sketches out the shape of a very familiar skull. He had beent rying to stay distracted after everything he learned.

He thinks he is doing an okay-ish job! Even if Error calls him an idiot for trying to escape his own new feelings.

Ink just... thinks! He should first get used to his kinda there feelings... and then on his god position! Before he... thinks about some specific feelings.

Ink groans as he grabs his phone and searches the past text messages.

Finding the right conversation quickly.

Hey Ink! Want to hang out with Dream and me? Let me know!

And then the line that Ink blocked his contact.

Ink groans as he just lays on the floor. He is a mess. Why is this so hard? It was never hard to hang out wiht Blue before. It was just nice and easy and it was fun! Now it just feels... different. it feels more important.

Not to forget his stupid feelings now actually work so he realises just how terrified he feels about being an idiot in front of Blue.

Again.

Fuck Blue has seen him do so much stupid shit. How does he deal with that?!

His phone buzzes and he picks it up with a smile before his smile falls. It is a message from Dream.

Of course it isn't a message from Blue. Blue can't send him messages because Ink blocked him!

Which... Blue knows... Ink is sure that Blue hates him or is sad or hurt because of Ink's stupid behaviour and-

HIs phone starts to ring.

Ink almost drops it before picking up "Hey Dream! I was jsut about to answer your text!"

Dream hfufs "Right." he does not sound convinced "Look. I need your help with a situation. Can you come meet us?"

Ink feels his being start to shake slighty. Us. Dream says us. Which means Blue is there!

He hadn't seen Blue since the Gyftmas party. Ink had gotten callen away for more god lessons and he hadn't even had the chance to see if Blue liked the bandana he got him.

And now Ink doens't feel sure enough to ask if Blue likes it. Waht if Blue likes it? What if he doesn't!? What if he likes the bandana but if he hears Ink got it for him he won't like it anymore!?

"Ink?" Dream sounds impatient.

Ink jumps up and rushes to grab his broom "Yeah! Sure! On my way! You send the location?" he has his broom and is already ready to cast the right magic to teleport to another location before remembering he still needs the location.

Dream is silent for a moment before answerign "You feeling okay? We can delay this a few days if you need time to rest-"

"No no no!! I am okay!" Ink rushes to stop Dream. No he needs this! He cna finally hang out wiht Blue again and because Dream is there it will be normal and not at all weird and Ink can maybe try to get an idea of how Blue feels about him and! He needs this! "You send me the location and stuff?"

Dream is quiet for a moment and Ink hears him talk with someone else before Dream answers "I send you it in a text. see you in a bit." and he hangs up.

Ink smiles as he jumps in place as he finds the location. Okay. Okay! He can do this! He can be totally normal! He will have anice hang out and then Blue will think he is cool and maybe Ink can brush off the blocking as an accident thing and everything will be fine!

He uses his broom and melts into a puddle of ink.

It feels like swimming to use his teleporting and he quickly gets to the right location. He jumps out and smiles.

Dream shoots him a grin before shooting the skeleton next to him a smug look. Blue rolls his eye lights at Dream before girnning at Ink himself "Hey Ink."

Ink is frozen. he is wearing the bandana. it looks so good on him but can he just say that? would it be weird for Ink to notice? Ink knows his memory isnt the best. would it seem obsessive if Ink noticed a difference?

Blue's grin falls as he looks worried and to the side. Oh shit he is quiet for too long isn't he?!

Ink rushes over "Hey Blue! Hey dream. It has been a while! I got busy and stuff. God stuff is weird! Hah! I mean Dream knows as well so i don't doubt you know it as well! I mena you two always hang out and stuff so of course you know. Not that that is wrong! I mean you two are best friends! It is normal!"

Oh please shut up shut up why is he still talking?!

Dream and Blue share a look. Blue frowns "Ink? Are you sure you are okay? You are acting weird..."

A snort "Seems normal to me."

Ink looks over and sees Error. Error just looks highly amused from where he is leaning agaisnt the tree. knowing look in his eye sockets.

Oh no. No no no no! Error knows about how Ink feels about Blue!! Well. Kinda feels. His whole soulless situation and feeling through paint together with ascending to godhood got weird and Ink doesn't even fully understand how it works but that is beside the point! Error was just there when Ink figured out he liked Blue a whole lot more than is normal and that is why Error knows! And Ink does not trust him with that knowledge to not make a fool out of Ink to Blue!

Well. Not that Error needs to do anything to make a fool out of Ink. Ink manages that just fine himself apparently.

Blue is frowning at Error "Error that isn't nice. He could be sick."

Error snorts nad mutters "love sick alright." and Ink prays no one heard him.

Blue doesn't react to what error said so maybe ink is lucky! And oh shit Blue is close and checking his temperature! What does he DO?!

Blue frowns "I think he is fine... You sure you feel up for this Ink?"

Ink nods "Yes! of course! Always ready to help you... two!" Ink looks between Blue and Dream before he laughs softly as he rubs his neck "What are we doing?"

Dream sighs "you seriously didn't read my texts?"

Ink slowly takes his phone out and notices that Dream send a long explanation about something to him. something about ink having to meet someone and having to help them with letting this mystery person meet the other gods.

Ink looks up and Dream sighs before nodding "okay fine. I found my brother."

Ink blinks. Something about nightmare? There hadn't been issues wiht nightmare right? Ink can't remember anything being off about him at least...

Dream looks very disapointed and hurt "Did you seriously forget my brother went missing?!"

Ink flinches. right. that. he rubs his arm "sorry..." he is a terrible friend. he had been so busy with god things... right... blue and drema ahd been working on searching for Nightmare and... and ink was too busy to help and after a while he jsut forgot aparently!

Dream sighs and Blue joins his side to support him. It stings a little.

Blue smiles "but everything is fine! We found nightmare and we are working on introducing him to many people to make sure Fate and Balance don't mess with his domain!"

Ink gives a slow nod. he knows he should know more about those two and why it is important but he can't remember at the moment. Ink hopes he will eventually remember "so... we want a truce?" maybe that is it? a truce between Ink and Nightmare?

Not the hnag out Ink wanted but he will take it at this point. He just wishes he never blocked Blue. How is he even suposed to fix that?! He doens't know!

Dream laughs and rubs his neck "I guess you can call ti a truce. Not that it matters with both Nighty and I having switched domains so we aren't even against each other in any way!" He smiles brightly.

Ink feels even worse. Fuck. He forgot. Dream switched domains! That was a whole thing. Also a thing he hadn't helped with. come on. He knows this. He knows which domain it is. something... soemthing about moving on? healing through moving on?

Dream's smile slwoly falls and Ink can hear Blue sigh. Ink holds up his hands "No! No wait! I know this!" he knwos this! come on. He knows this he knows this he knows this! "it... it... it is about... like.. moving on? healing? kinda like determination and keep going?" right? He looks at Dream desperately.

Dream blinks but laughs and nods "honestly? Very close! it is Progression but those things got to do with it."

Blue grins proudly at him "You are remembering things!"

Ink gives aslow nod "kinda..." ish. Not that much. Though he does keep remembering how pretty Blue looks with his new bandana. The neutral grey but silver and blue highlights are so pretty on him.

Error groans "Are we done yet? We got a schedule to keep here." he huffs and crosses his arms.

Dream focusses too "We are. Ink?"

Ink nods and grins "Lets make a truce!"

A voice "Finally! This was getting boring" and Killer jumps down from the tree branches.

Ink has his broom ready but Blue rushes to his side and pushes his arms down "No! No fighting! we cool!" Ink froze but not because Blue stopped him or what he said. but because Blue is holding his hand! wlel more like just pushing his hands down but it counts! Ink is totally counting it as them holding hands!

Killer grins at them "Anyway. Meet. Boss! Or well... tiny boss" and he grins. As he waves to the side and Cross jsut appears out of thin air with a child in his arms.

Ink frowns and stares before looking at Killer "I know my memory is bad.. but wasn't nightmare like... adult and gooped?" he looks at Blue to double check.

Blue smiles at him and nudges their shoulders togther "true! But Nightmare got deaged when he finished his job as god connected to balance. He went back to how he was before getting that job." and he nods over to Cross who is holding the tiny skeleton.

Ink blinks and stares at Nightmare.Nightmare just looks back at him.

Ink is hit with a dejavu and snorts "Oh yeah i can see it now. got the exact same 'you are an idiot' look as his older version." and he leans against broomie.

Blue laughs from beside him and Ink puffs his chest up a tiny bit. He got this. he got this!

Nightmare huffs and pouts as he leans clsoer to cross "Well he is an idiot."

Cross purrs as he nuzzles the skull "You are 100% right."

Ink looks ar Dream and Blue "So... what now?"

Dream smiles "We need to meet the other gods. but the more gods on our side the better." Dream sighs "Especially meeting the other gods..."

Ink frowns as he tilts his skull "Why?"

Reaper is floating nearby as he speaks and hey when did Reaper get here? "Because of Fate and Balance. We don't think they will like Nightmare not falling into either of their domains anymore."

Ink frowns and he finally remembers! "Right! They were real mad when you picked your domain right Dream?"

Dream grins "Yup! They tried to make me switch but they couldn't because everyone knew my job by then. We are trying to get Nightmare the same setup."

Ink rubs his broom as he speaks "what... euh... is the domain anyway?" they hadn't mentioned that right? he checks with blue but blue just smiles at him. So they probably didn't tell yet!

Blue looks at the gang and it is Killer who answers "Nightmare is a god of Restoration!" he nuzzles Nightmare and nightmare just looks grumpy but doens't turn away from the attention.

Ink frowns as he thinks "So... we are going to meet the other gods now?"

Blue nods as he smiles at him "That is the plan! Can you come with as extra support?"

Ink nods "sure!" He would follow Blue anywhere.

Blue smiles back.

Maybe this isn't a complete mess up just yet.

*---------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[sinelanguage]

32. bodyswap

The Grand Line is a mysterious place; Usopp really shouldn’t be surprised when he wakes up feeling out of sorts. He’s woken up in weirder ways than having an empty, ravenous appetite; this is nothing. He must’ve eaten something weird the night before, leaving his stomach an empty, bottomless pit. Perfectly fine.

Usopp tries to pick himself up out of his hammock, and his foot doesn’t hit the ground. That’s weird; his hammock is closest to the ground. He stretches a bit more, then a bit more, and still, nothing. 

Then, Usopp stretches out way too far, way farther than should be physically possible, until his foot hits the floor. His leg feels like absolute jello. His heart rackets in his chest. 

That’s not fine. 

His chin warbling, he looks over the edge of his hammock until he sees one long leg stretching all the way from the top bunk down to the floor. 

“Luffy,” he says. Luffy’s voice comes out of his mouth. Oh, no. “Luffy, what did you do?!”

“Eh, what do you mean, what did I do?” That’s not Luffy’s voice; that’s not even his own voice. “I’m– wait, woah! Why am I so tiny?! Why do I sound so weird?!”

“Hey, Chopper, quit freaking out,” comes Usopp’s own voice. “Wait– what? Why do I sound like Usopp?”

There’s a loud thunk; Usopp watches in horror as his own body hits the floor. Usopp’s body picks himself up off the ground, shoves his hands in his pockets, and peers around the room with a critical derision that looks alien on his face. 

“What the hell?” he asks. “Usopp, you shithead, what did you do?!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Usopp yells, his voice still sounding like Luffy. “Who are you?! Is that you, Sanji?!”

“How curious. The Grand Line is a mysterious place, isn’t it?” says Zoro, sounding way too damn calm for Zoro. Who the hell is he swapped with? “It seems like we’ve all swapped bodies.”

The noise the crew makes is as loud as it is confusing. 

By the time they all get out of bed and onto the deck, Zoro– well, Robin, who swapped with Zoro– explains that they must’ve passed by some mysterious mist that swapped them all around, just like an old story she read. She assured them that they would all be fine, they just needed to wait it out until the effect faded. 

If only it were that simple. 

Instead, the entire crew is caught in the mess of being swapped with each other. Chopper-as-Sanji tries to chase down and lecture Sanji-as-Usopp down for his clear and obvious nicotine withdrawal symptoms, Nami-as-Robin sprouts way too many limbs all at once and almost turns the Merry over, and Luffy-as-Chopper tries to steal Chopper’s rumble balls while he’s otherwise occupied. 

Usopp tries, he really tries to grab Luffy before he grabs the rumble balls, but his arms refuse to listen. They stretch out like limp snakes, his fingers wiggling on the deck helplessly. 

“This is the worst,” Usopp complains. He tries to bring Luffy’s arm back to him but he manages to get it stuck, looped around the mast. “How long did Robin say this would last?!”

“I don’t know what you’re all complaining about, this is great!” Robin– well, Nami– says. She’s using several of Robin’s arms to unfurl the sails and steer the ship, gleeful as she sits perched on the top deck. “I don’t need any of you to steer the ship now!”

“Oh great, then you can just boss Robin around instead of us next time,” says Zoro-as-Nami. 

“What, so you can just laze around all day?! Oh, right, that's what you already do!” Nami-as-Robin counters, trying to hit Zoro in the face. She miscalculates, uses the wrong arm, and hits herself in the back of her head. “Ow ow ow! Oh, this is all your fault, Zoro! I can’t believe you’re stuck in my body!”

“Hey! I don’t like it any more than you do!”

There's a low whine on deck, like the sound of a tea kettle.

“Shut up! You should be glad you swapped with Nami-san, you– you shitty- you-” Zoro-as-Nami turns to face Sanji-as-Usopp, and Sanji's face contorts through a series of rapid emotions before settling on abject horror. “I can’t even yell at you like this!”

“This is a disaster,” Usopp mutters, watching Sanji’s ongoing breakdown. “At least everything is somewhat under control now.”

Robin-as-Zoro is the only sane one, Usopp decides. Everyone else is a weck.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. If we run into any trouble, none of us will be able to fight, will we?” says Zoro– no, says Robin. She smiles, and it looks absolutely horrifying on Zoro’s face. “What an interesting way to go.”

Usopp turns to face her. Robin-as-Zoro smiles at him sweetly again, as sweet as a deadly poison.

No, he’s changed his mind. This is a disaster for absolutely everyone involved; they’re going to be lucky to make it the next hour, much less the next day. They’re all going to die. 

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

how envious are the mafia aus of their og! aus? or do they feel disguted when seeing them, jealously? mayhaps even get that mad they would completely hate them? (torpedo and edge, cough cough)

I did all the Tale and Fell universes, because why not.

For Mafiatale:

About Undertale Sans & Papyrus - Demon and Creeper don't mind them as they're clearly not a threat at all. Demon is particularly aware that Sans is judging them a lot because of their LV, but he knows that's also because he didn't have to grow up in their shoes so he doesn't care. They mostly ignore each other. Papyrus is friendlier, especially with Creeper, but, uh... Creeper is not really receptive and it gets awkward really fast.

About Horrortale Sans & Papyrus - They're pretty neutral toward each other. They talked only a few times, and they're for sure less judgmental than their younger selves so that's fine. They sometimes use their farm to hide random things against some money, which helps them both keep going.

About Outertale Sans & Papyrus - It took at least a year for Demon to understand that Moon and Sans are not the same person lol. So, uh, he kinda thinks he's just like Sans and ignores him even though he doesn't know the guy. Creeper doesn't care much about them either. Not that he cares about a lot of people in the first place.

About Dancetale Sans & Papyrus - ?????? Is that how they would have turned if they got kidnapped by some circus instead of the mafia? They're a bit confused about what is even their problem. They're for sure not a threat though, but they're also weirdly close to them because like them, they were not persecuted Underground and with all the others being victims, it's good to find someone like them.

About Farmtale Sans & Papyrus - Sam and Ben are not big fans of having them around. Ok, that's probably because Creeper attacked poor Ben, who almost ran him over with the tractor. After all, the guy was hiding in his field, completely invisible. Then Sam got mad and started to fight with Demon as well. Demon thought he was just as weak as the Undertale brother, but oh boy he was wrong. Never piss off Sam, he's terrifying when he's angry, and he knows how to use his old hunt gun to chase intruders out of his lands. Poor Demon's shoulder still remembers it. It's best to stay away.

For Mafiafell (oh boy...):

About Underfell Sans & Papyrus - Well, Red and Fang are really close friends, they're hanging out all the time together. Fang is not really a problem. TORPEDO THOUGH? OH BOY. Torpedo knows he is way stronger than Edge, but that Edge will never admit it unlike he's dying on the floor. So when he's bored, Torpedo goes to taunt Edge on purpose just for the pleasure of beating him up. He's using Edge as a punching ball, pretty much, and thinks he's hilarious trying to get at him with his little tiny pointy bones. Well, he laughed a lot less when Torpedo kidnapped and almost killed his brother because he had enough, but it was all a bluff in the end so that's fine. They could never get along together, they both way too proud and nothing could work to make them work together.

About Horrorfell Sans & Papyrus - Well, once again, Fang is a really close friend of theirs and they have no problem hanging together. TORPEDO THOUGH? OH BOY. Well, it's all part of the Torpedo wants to buy the Horror farm problem actually. As, you know, you usually don't become friends with the guy who literally wants to make you homeless. Torpedo especially likes to show his displeasure by bullying Chief and throwing him out of his wheelchair just so he crawls at his feet. Well, he forgot he could still use his magic though and sometimes got stabbed several times, but that's part of the game. Copper does his best to protect his brother, but he just has to show off his LV to make the guy coward away. He's all bark no bite, just like Red. Torpedo thinks they're all a joke.

About Horrorswapfell Sans & Papyrus - Surprisingly, Torpedo kind of likes Bear. He doesn't know why. The guy is blind, he could be perfect to bully like the other Horror brothers, but something is preventing him from doing that. Or maybe that's all just another try to get the farm by being nice this time lol. He still tried to attack Tiger, but turned out Tiger is a lot less funny than Rus and can deal important damage. He's also unpredictable, which Torpedo doesn't like. Let's just say the two pairs are wary of the other for now. They don't know each other for a very long time, so they're still testing the waters.

About Swapfell Sans & Papyrus - I can see a pattern here, as Fang is their friend and even one of Rus' best friends. TORPEDO THOUGH? OH BOY. Well, Nox is actually one of the only opponent he is wary off. The little shit is actually pretty strong and managed several times to break his guard. It's like a toxic love-hate relationship. Torpedo hates he can stand guard against him but loves the challenge. They are pretty much equal in terms of strength and LV, so he's an interesting challenger. They could have been friends. If Torpedo didn't attack his brother though. It's just... He doesn't know. They were talking, and Rus seemed to mock him and he got mad lol. Rus' face does this effect on a lot of people though, and he's not even doing it on purpose.

About Fellswap Gold Sans & Papyrus - They don't have anything about Coffee, but, uh, they tried several times to kidnap him to get Wine to do things for them, so Coffee is not a big fan of them. With Wine, it's... complicated. They need Wine, as Wine is the most influent guy around, even more than the mafia, and so it's important to have good relationships with him to work peacefully. They both thought he could be easy to manipulate if they touch his only weak point, his brother, but, uh, they might have underestimated Wine. A LOT. Torpedo got the surprise of his life the day Wine, pissed off, beat the shit out of him without any difficulty. HOW STRONG IS THAT GUY?! Torpedo is confused because Wine hides his LV, and so he can't tell how strong he really is. Their LV is close, but Wine's is slightly bigger and he is a way better fighter than Torpedo is. Torpedo is still extremely sour about that defeat, but he can't really destroy Wine like he destroyed the other. Added to that, when Torpedo is learning his fighting moves, Wine is clever and comes to fight him with Nox. The both of them are way too much for Torpedo. He feels humiliated by that guy and he hates it so much he can't kill him. Wine knows it perfectly and uses that to actually get them to do things for him, when the deal was the other way around. Wine is way too intelligent for them.

About Dancefell Sans & Papyrus - ????? What the fuck is even this? Don't insult them by comparing whatever this is with them. They don't even know how to fight.

[someverygaymoth]

[dumps hc's upon thee] so, i have the hc that any sanses that are swap based are taller, and the papryi from the swaps are also slightly shorter. so cross, nm, dream, and ofc swap would all be taller than say killer, dust, and most others. HOwever, i do love the tiny dream/nm hc, so my reasoning is when nm essentially died, his growth mostly stopped. and dream is short bc being trapped in stone so long. he's free now, so he is actually taller than nm, but nm wears heels bc he's a pretty princess. so of the bad sanses, horror and cross are the tallest, while dust killer and nm are about the same height (due to the aforementioned heels). swap is the tallest star sans, followed by dream, and ink is tiny bc he doesn't rly fit into the swap, classic, or fell categories. he just is. (forgot to mention that fell based ones would actually be mildly shorter, just for contrast. not much more than classic tho). now, dream and nm are much older than swap or cross, and are only shorter bc they're either unable to grow, or haven't had the time to. so, enter Lucid, my oc who's the younger brother of nm and dream. he never had the issue of not being able to grow. so over the many hundred years he was just- out in the au's somewhere, this man got big- one of the few sanses that can look down at horror. is this entire hc indulgent af because i wanted to rp a big ass mf? yes, yes it is. but it's cool, and man it's funny also bc of the castle marriage all i've been able to think about all day is lucid swinging into the castle, popping up next to nm and just 'hey bro, i rizzed up yer house, sorry man-' and leaving

Nightmare is 100% a short king. I love NM being tiny. I think the height order goes Ink < Dust < NM/Dream < Killer < Blue < Error < Cross < Horror.

Though Dust is taller than NM, he has such terrible standing posture that nobody realizes that for a while.

NM wearing heels is one of my favorite headcannons. He's literally the prettiest princess fr.

Killer is a little taller than a classic, just an inch or two taller than Dust and a few inches taller than Nightmare.

Cross is a little more than half a foot taller than Killer, and a like four inches taller than Blue, a couple inches taller than Error.

Blue is only like 2 inches shorter than Error.

Horror is like half a foot taller than Cross, so he's like a whole foot taller than Killer, which is really funny when they're standing side by side.

Height differences with characters are so fun and silly. Especially with things like NM not realizing Dust is as tall as him in heels until he stretches out to crack his back and that makes him stand up straight for a little bit before he goes back to slouching. NM is asconced.

The hyjinks of these silly idiots trying to take pictures together and struggling to get everyone in the frame— oh man. I just love the goofiness that those height differences can add to a group.

[97keanu]

Ted Logan x Historic!Reader

Premise: Reader and Ted have been dating for a short while, but had met on one of Bill and Ted's many time adventures. Reader is from the past, and is going to her first Halloween party in 1992. Reader who was stuck with the expectations of women in the past who finally feels free to do as she pleases. Reader experiences 90s twenty-something culture to it's fullest with her wonderful boyfriend.

Tags/CW: Fluff, autumnal/halloween themed, boyfriend!ted, stoner!Ted + Bill, reader gets high but is a lightweight, drinking/drug mentions, anxious!reader, shy!reader, soft!ted, ted reassures reader and is the sweetest boyfriend, dancing the night away, ted tells you he loves you, ted who loves PDA.

Authors Note: tiny text just to save room, rest of post is normal. This one has surprisingly no smut, so if you've been wanting to read a cute, fluffy fic, this one is for you! I kept which part of the past reader is from vague so that you may fill that in as you like! ʚ♥︎ɞ

The house is already lit up, the sounds of heavy metal blasting through the open windows, while the rustling of leaves crunch around your red heels. You look over to your boyfriend Ted with a bit of worry, trying to gauge his reaction. You haven't lived in San Dimas long, in fact, you haven't lived in 1992 for that long either. You still can't believe this loveable goof had dazzled you into his phone booth, taking you from the past and so far into the future. There are times where you wonder if it was the right move, but Ted has always assured you that he would take you right back home if you ever said the word.

And here you are, dressed as what Ted described as a "cartoon" character (which you're sort of becoming familiar with since he and Bill insist on their "Saturday morning cartoons") who supposedly solves mysteries of some sort. You think Ted looks pretty normal tonight, his shirt a particular shade a green and his pants a reddish brown. He completes the look with joint he has stashed behind his ear for later.

You pull your attention back to the big house, it seems almost abandoned, or at least well partied. Tonight, the barren trees outside sport toilet paper waving in the wind, and the orange glow from inside occasionally flashes to green or purple. The thump of Motley Crüe can be heard as you two walk up, and other twenty-somethings adorn the rickety porch their own costumes. Ted laughs as he greets someone dressed as Freddy Krueger (he made sure to get you up to date on your horror movies this month) with a chest bump before glancing down at you. He sees your worried expression and reaches to hold your hand.

"Don't worry babe, everyone's going to like, totally love you!" He smiles that earnest, puppy dog smile of his, and you feel some of the worry subside. You hold onto his hand as you enter the loud, crowded house.

Vince Neil is just finishing his last 'Shout at The Devil' as you squeeze between two Ghostbusters to keep up with Ted. Everything here is so new and strange to you, you hardly understand half of the costumes, even with Bill and Ted spending extra time to keep you culturally in touch with the early 90s. The glow of the kitchen beckons Ted, and you follow.

Inside you see Bill, dressed up as in a giant brown dog suit. Ted sees him and immediately throws his arms open into a happy hug.

"Scoob!!" He yells to Bill, pretending to be in character for the moment. Bill responds with a 'Raggy!' and the two embrace with a smile.

When the two part, Bill looks over your costume approvingly.

"You make an awesome Velma!" He exclaims and throws up a hand to high five. You do so, getting better at the timing these little rituals require. You glance down at your orange sweater and short red skirt, feeling happy that you've overcome your first Halloween hurdle.

Bill and Ted begin talking, and you listen in. You've always been shy, even in your own timeline you were praised for being such a quiet and obedient child. Now, you feel happy to be around such a ray of sunshine like Ted, and he is always ready to oblige your want to listen more than talk when it comes to the social situations. He makes sure to check in, even without saying, like now, when he wraps a hand around your waist and pulls you closer with a quick kiss to the top of your head. He's never shy to give you PDA, and anyone who would feel bold enough to say something about it would be met with a happy indifference by Ted.

Eventually Bill pulls Ted, who in turn pulls you, towards the semi crowded living room. A couple is just getting up, the woman dragging her man longingly to the bathroom, so Bill let's you and Ted take their seat, Bill props himself happily up on the couches arm rest. The room is filled with smoke and laughter, and Ted gives your hand a warm squeeze and a look to make sure you're doing alright. You nod.

Even though the youth culture is so seemingly bizarre on the outside in this time, you know it's not all that much different from what you and your friends did back at home. People laugh into bottles of beer around you, and you remember the taste of the bitter liquid from your time as well. Ted pulls the joint from his ear at Bill's request, and Bill offers a helpful lighter from his jeans. They both take turns inhaling what the joint has to offer, holding it in their lungs, and releasing it to the orange streaked sky. The smoke swirls in the lights and the colors stream through it like hands through hair.

Ted passes it towards you. You pause for a moment. This substance is newer to you, but you've experimented with it with Ted before. Usually you would have a puff or two in the night, especially when Ted had gotten the next day off work from the Cheesy Pretzel. You were surprised to find you actually really enjoyed the feeling of 'being high' as Ted called it. And he was right to call it that, you quickly found.

You take the joint from Ted, giving a small puff, and trying to hold it like them, but ending up in a small coughing fit. Ted laughs a little at your lightweightness and rubs your back gently and kindly. You smile back at him when you've finally recovered, happy to be leading this young, strange, life. You pass the joint back to Bill and lean into the warmth of Ted's body.

You glance at the tiny TV before the couch, feeling your mind slowly getting more relaxed and thoughts slipping away one by one. The TV glows with the image of Laurie Strode having her own smoke session with in her friends car and you feel more connected to this time. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all. Even though sometimes you wonder if it was worth it to leave your whole life behind, moments like these, enclosed in your boyfriends arms, listening to his soft and happy chatter with friends, enjoying new and exciting life experiences, washed away any doubt. You can't believe how far you've come, how much expectations of your life you've lost. The hedonist in you is pleased, certainly.

You continue to quietly watch party goers until one of Ted's favorite songs comes on. He looks to you, his usual goofy smile appearing.

"Can I have this dance, m'lady?" He says with a laugh, despite not knowing if that's from your time or not. You find his humor and effort endearing, returning his smile and taking his outstretched hand.

He pulls you up gently, and moves to where others are enjoying the makeshift dancefloor. Dancing in this time is so different for you, but you laugh and try to follow Ted's movements, jumping about with him. He teaches you how to head bang to the fast song, his long hair a flurry about his fast when he does it. You copy him the best you can, but what matters most is how alive you feel right now. Whatever shell you had crawled into and begun to live in from your time was slowly cracking here, and Ted was the perfect light shining through those cracks.

You two continue to dance along to metal and rock, and you feel lighter with each jump. Soon enough, Ted pulls you in by your hips and places his forehead to yours as another song ends. Someone has to flip the tape, so the sound of the rest of the party is a blur in both your ears. He holds you close, obviously a bit worn out, but happy to be having such fun with you. You lean into his and he tilts your chin up for a kiss from his soft lips. You love when he does this, you had never been kissed before you met Ted, but now you feel as if he breathes more life into you with each one.

Ted pulls away and gazes into your eyes with a softness about him. He mouthes that he loves you, but when you miss what he said, he kisses up your neck to your ear, telling you his love with each kiss. You blush hard as he does this, shivers across your skin. You feel goosebumps under your orange sweater and have to adjust your fake glasses when he's done. He is blushing just as much as you, and you are grateful to be here with him.

The night continues and ends with laughs and fun for you and Ted, and you slowly find yourself not needing to think about the past, or future. You're here, in the present, with someone who loves you. That's all that matters.

[derangedanomaly]

Ok so hi (●’◡’●)ﾉ i have a teeny tiny request and yeah its long so ahem.

There are two female friends the best of friends like to peas in a pot but they aren't similar in any way shape or form (Example↓)

The first friend is a more feminine mature woman, you'd mostly see her dolled up for herself, soft spoken, confident in herself, maybe even have a bit of a rich parent background and not the best relationship with her parents, she is the only child and since getting everything she's basically in on money is everything and all of that, she's a bit bratty and a little insecure because no one really stays and if they do it's for the money or status

The second friend is more rough home tomboy, well not directly, she dresses in what makes her feel comfortable and all of that, normally seeing her dolled up is a whole other can of worms, she's loud in a way, strong no body walks over her at all, she's maybe from a more middle class background with a lot of brothers and she has to work for what she wants often getting her hands dirty when climbing or maybe fixing a car, since being a girl in a house full of boys she feels a bit over looked, and she thinks she's not taken seriously most of the time.

Long story sort these two are friends who balance each other out despite being so different in many ways

Now for my request, which one do you think the Bad Sans Boys would fall for from these two friends (It could be One, Two or maybe Both depending on the situation)

Interesting request I must say, I didn't really know what "special thing" to do with this particular request, so I just answered your simple easy question. (I apologize if this sucks. I tried my best 🤷‍♀️)

MASTERLIST

BAD SANSES TYPE

NIGHTMARE:

Nightmare would probably like the first woman more. He can't put up with troublemakers, so he tends to avoid the second woman.

KILLER:

Oh, the second woman for sure! He probably at first went for the first one, but after a while of the first one not caring for him, he slowly went for the second one. But the relationship could also only be a friendship. If you wish so.

DUST:

Probably the second one. He doesn't need a dressed up primadona in his life. Nightmare is enough. He likes to let loose sometimes, so the second one is the obvious best choice for him. Though he himself is pretty serious/edgy. So it'll be like polar opposites. But it's ok, he likes that.

HORROR:

Horror probably doesn't care. He'll go for the one that gives him the better food. He doesn't really have much preference. 🤷‍♀️

ERROR:

He also doesn't have much preference. The one that respects his personal space is the one that he'll like more.