#I had to make this or else it would be stuck in my head

[maskedbyghost]

i have a breeding kink but at the same time i have a terrible fear of getting pregnant to the point where ive had nightmares about it and anxiety attacks (especially now that abortions are no longer a constitutional right in the US). yeah, not a great combo when in bed lol

just thought maybe my woe would spark some kind of lil story for ya :)

thank you for the request anon, hope you like it :) cw: breeding kink, smut, +18 content below

You shouldn’t want it... Not like this.

You’re on your back, thighs spread and shaking, and Simon’s weight is pressing down over you, with his hands under your knees, pushing your legs open wide enough that you can feel it in your hips, that sweet ache where stretch meets surrender—but all you really notice is the way he’s looking at you.

A little wild. A little too pleased. Like he knows exactly what’s going on in your head.

"You’re fuckin’ dripping," he mutters against your throat, dragging the thick head of his cock through your folds, teasing you with it, slowly. “You want me to fill you up, yeah?”

Your body screams yes. It pulses with it. You tilt your hips, chasing the friction, heat curling sharp in your belly. That filthy little corner of your brain lights up like a match—the one that wants to hear him say it, again and again. That he’s going to put a baby into you. That your body’s his, made to take it.

But just behind that is the fear. Always is.

The kind that hits in the dead of night, heart racing, breath stuck in your throat. The kind that makes you double-check your pill pack and panic at a missed period. That terrible, breathless dread of being trapped in your own body. Waking up from a dream where you were pregnant and sobbing like it had already happened.

Your fingers grip the sheets, tension building under your skin, about to snap.

Simon feels it. Of course he does. He always knows.

He stills, just slightly. Doesn’t let go of your legs, doesn’t pull away—he just watches you, his brows pulling together. "Hey."

You blink, trying to smile, but it doesn’t work. “I’m fine. I want it. Just keep going.”

He doesn’t move. "You sure?"

“I am,” you say too fast, then softer, “I think I just… my head’s being weird again.”

That look he gives you—the one that feels like a fucking hand on your heart. He leans in, nose brushing yours, eyes locked on you like nothing else exists, and in that moment, it doesn't.

“Tell me,” he murmurs. “Whatever it is. We don’t play unless it’s good for you. Yeah?”

You swallow, heart hammering. You hate admitting it. Hate feeling like your brain’s betraying your body.

“I like it,” you say quietly. “The dirty talk. The whole—breeding thing. I need it sometimes. But I’m also terrified. Like, terrified of actually getting pregnant. It’s… bad. Nightmares, panic attacks...”

His jaw ticks. Just once. That barely contained fury that only shows up when he’s angry on your behalf.

“Fuck,” he says. “Alright. Come here.”

He pulls you in, lets your legs wrap around his waist, chest to chest now, holding you close, grounding you. One big hand slides up your back, the other gripping your thigh, his voice right at your ear.

“You trust me?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Then let me take care of you.”

You nod against his shoulder, and that’s all he needs.

“Good girl,” he breathes, then pulls his hips back, just enough to push his cock against you again. “Gonna give you everything you want, every filthy fuckin’ word. Gonna ruin you like I’m tryin’ to knock you up. But I won’t. I won’t do anything to you that you don’t want, yeah?”

You whimper. “Yes, Simon. Please.”

“God, you sound so sweet like this,” he groans, sliding in, inch by inch. “So needy. You like when I talk like that, don’t you? Gets you so wet, you don’t even care how wrong it sounds.”

He bottoms out with a growl, and your back arches off the bed. You’re already close, tension thrumming under your skin, clenching around him like your body’s begging to be used.

“Look at this little cunt,” he pants, pulling out halfway just to slam back in. “Taking all of me like it wants it. Like it’s fuckin’ desperate for it.”

You’re gasping now, fingers digging into his back, losing yourself to the rhythm, to the stretch, to the low, filthy sound of his voice.

“You want it, don’t you?” he whispers darkly, lips against your jaw. “Wanna be full of me. Wanna let me fuck you raw and finish inside, over and over until you’re leaking, stuffed, ruined.”

“Yes—Simon, yes—”

“But you don’t have to be scared,” he says, voice dropping lower, sweet and vicious. “You’re safe with me. I’ve got you. Always.”

And somehow that undoing feels different.

Like you can want it—really want it—and still be safe.

He fucks you through it, one hand on your belly, pressing down just a little, groaning when you flutter around him.

“Feel that?” he growls. “That’s me. Deep as I can go. Where I belong.”

Your eyes roll back. You're shaking under him, every nerve lit up, body raw with pleasure.

And then he’s coming too, face buried in your neck, groaning your name like it’s the only thing he knows how to say.

He pulls out slowly and carefully. Your thighs are trembling, slick between them, and he’s already wiping you down with a warm cloth before you can even blink. No words—just his soft hands.

Then he climbs back in behind you, draping a blanket over both of you, pulling you into his chest.

“You’re not wrong for wanting it,” he says against your temple. “Wantin’ that kind of surrender. You just need someone who knows how to give it to you right.”

You smile, slow and sleepy. “And you’re that someone?”

He huffs. “You fuckin’ know I am.”

And yeah, you really do.

--------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6

[alchemistc]

Inspired by Lou mentioning that we're getting B**** f*********

"Tell me about your old captain," Bobby says. It's not a question. It's not a suggestion - or if it is, Tommy doesn't have the ability to view it as anything but a demand.

Bobby's eyes catch the bob of his throat as he swallows.

They're in Bobby's office. Tommy's pretty sure he's been in this office twice since Bobby took over - he doesn't do things in any sort of official capacity, seems to hate the four walls and the door like a man with experience stuck in tight spaces.

"Off the record, of course."

Tommy's a grown ass man who's been through more Captains and Sergeants and other miscellaneous authority figures than Bobby can count on fingers and toes.

There's just something about Bobby that makes him feel wrong-footed. Like he's simultaneously the most comfortable he's ever been and the most terrified he'll ever be. Like he has to get this right.

"Sir?"

Bobby tosses a balled up piece of paper at Tommy's forehead. That's fair. That's absolutely fair. Tommy blinks, and the nerves sort of just... fall away.

"He was a homophobic, racist, misogynist prick and I still hate that I followed along like a little duckling."

Bobby purses his lips. Widens his eyes with brows raised.

The silence and the eye contact stretches.

Eventually, Bobby steeples his fingers, leans his chin on them. Stares. "We can circle back to the second part in a moment. I'm asking because I sent in your transfer papers last week."

There's that fear crawling right back in. He'd never even fucking tried it, under Gerrard. Too afraid to watch him crush that dream, too afraid to make a move for himself.

He'd mentioned flying offhand, a month and a half ago, a second serving of roast melting on his tongue while Howie stole potatoes off his plate.

Two days later Bobby'd pulled him aside and told Tommy he'd reached out to Harbor - that Harbor had an opening in air ops and he'd asked them to hold the position internally for an extra day or two. In case Tommy wanted it.

("I saw the way you look when you're talking about flying, kid. If I overstepped, tell me to shove it, but the 217 could use a man like you."

Tommy's had the words 'man like you' running on a loop in his head ever since.)

"Did they fill the spot?"

He hasn't let himself get excited about it. Hasn't told a soul other than Bobby that he's even thinking about it. He never would have done it without that push, and he's already gearing up to make himself not resent Bobby for even putting the thought in his head.

Bobby smiles. "They did."

Tommy would love it if the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

"Their newest pilot is going to be Thomas Kinard. Pending my approval, of course."

His heart does something strange in his chest. A squeeze, a jump, a flurry. He's gonna be in the air again. Going to have to use whatever's left of his mind to learn new birds, to teach someone else, one day. That's not as daunting a task as it would have been, a year ago.

Tommy squints, because Bobby looks entirely too pleased with himself for nearly giving Tommy a fucking heart attack. "What does that have to do with Gerrard?"

Bobby tips his head side to side, fidgets with a pen. Tommy never knows if that's a nervous habit or if he's so committed to the "fucking with you" bit that he's adopted a bunch of other people's tics.

"He tried to block it," Bobby tells him, a little solemn, finally. Tommy can feel his teeth clenching. His body tightening. His arms are crossed over his chest and he doesn't remember the act of raising them from the armrests. "I told him, respectfully, where he could stick it."

Bobby has this insane ability to ease a thousand worries with just a turn of phrase, a tone of voice. Tommy can feel the ire melting right off. "You already did it?"

Bobby huffs a soft laugh. "Professional disagreement. We don't see eye to eye on your talents. Harbor was fairly easily convinced, once I started listing them."

The lump in his throat makes it a little difficult to forge ahead. "Why'd you ask about him, then?"

Bobby's soft grin turns to a full on smirk. "Because I thought, given that this is your last week here, you might want to get it off your chest, Firefighter Pilot Kinard."

[oddlylovingaddiction]

; Coming Full Circle

Part 1: Here , Part 2 (You’re here)

Sorry that it took so long everyone, I’m close to graduation now and I’ve been busy, however I hope this is good!

CW: Reader is pregnant BUT is gender neutral only being referred to as you, if you don’t have the ability to get pregnant you do now (in this series). Neglected reader x (platonic.) bat family. Reader is probably around in your 20s (21 - 25) and is the 5th(??) oldest. READER ALSO HAS NO IDEA THAT THE WAYNE FAMILY ARE SUPERHEROS (for now…) Reader is also bit emotional because of pregnancy hormones.

TW: Past abuse in the form of emotional neglect, Pregnancy, Arguments

The Garden was warm, you could almost relax and drink your tea peacefully.

Keyword being almost. Because unfortunately you were surrounded and being interrogated by some of your siblings. Dick, Tim, Cassandra, Jason and Damian.

“Who’s your husband?” Cassandra asks curiously. You really didn’t want to tell them anything but it’s clear if you ignore them, Tim the cyber stalker will just drag it up.

“I’d like to keep my private life—.” You go to reply but Damian interrupts, “I bet you the husband is made up.” and for some reason Jason nods along. Ever since yesterday Damian has stuck by you, anywhere you go in the mansion he’s somehow lurking behind you or around you in general. You’re not sure why especially since when you woke up he had gone.

“He is real.” You scoff your face bunching up in annoyance. “Oh yeah then why isn’t he here with you right now then?” Jason questions clearly not believing you like Damian. “… we had a small fight.” You reply slowly, concern blooming on all of their faces. It feels you with a mixed feeling… happy that finally some people in your family are concerned and also annoyed because they have no damn right to look at you like that. “I thought you said it was a disagreement?” Damian argued.

“It was on his end… but I suppose it was more of a fight on mine.” You mumble embarrassed, leaning your head on your hand to cover your mouth.

“What was the fight over?” Cassandra asks and you wince. You realllyyyyy didn’t want to answer that but you don’t want them to think of the worst scenario about you and your husband.

“It… was over the colour of the nursery walls…” You whisper-mumble closing your eyes shut. “Huh?” Tim replies.

“It was over the colour of the nursery walls…” you say still whispering but not mumbling anymore. “Can you speak up? I don’t think any of us caught that.” Dick adds.

“IT WAS OVER THE COLOUR OF THE NURSERY WALLS OKAY?!” You burst out standing up quickly as you slam your hands on the table.

Everyone goes silent as you sink back into your chair hands over your face embarrassed. “That’s it? Are you serious??” Jason grunted clearly he thinks you’re insane for choosing to stay with family over the colour of some walls. And you admit “it does sound ridiculous but in my head at the time it was a lot bigger of a deal…” you feel so embarrassed.

Surprisingly Damian pats your shoulder gently while you’re slouched over, “I support you and your future divorce. Because if he can’t let you pick the wall colour then what else will he do? His lover is pregnant, he should give in.” He advises which just makes you even more embarrassed because you can’t believe you’re being comforted by a kid. Cassandra also leans in and pats you on the back as well, at this point you’re wondering if you could just bury yourself in a hole.

“This is so stupid…” Jason mutters, “Why…” Tim adds and you can hear Dick trying not to laugh at the absurdity. “Pregnancy hormones.” You can hear Cassandra whisper-mouths as a reply to Tim.

“You guys don’t have to comfort me, I know it’s dumb.” You say finally looking up at them all as Cassandra and Damian retract their hands. “If you know just go back.” Jason frowns before Dick elbows him in the ribs. “I would but it just feels too embarrassing…” you sigh. You can’t believe you’re having this conversation with people a phew years ago probably wouldn’t notice if you were dead. “Is that it?” Tim probes, he knows that there’s got to be more than you’re letting onto, which there is.

“And… because I can’t help but be worried… what if this is the first fight before it gets worse? If we are arguing now what will happen when the baby is here? What if he doesn’t love me anymore because of this?” You confess. Your husband is the closet to you and you can’t bear to imagine losing or fighting with.

“It was just one argument if he doesn’t still love you over and chooses to fight with you more, then just kill him.” Jason stated to which earned a bunch of glares from the table, minus Damian who shrugged in agreement.

“Don’t listen to Jason just divorce him if he does that.” Cassandra proposes clearly uncomfortable with the talk of murder. You laugh softly. You choose to just hum in acknowledgment of their words, a small knot tying in your heart. It feels like your head is full of lead, everything right now going on with your husband and being around your family again it’s all too much.

“I think I’m just going to go relax…” you say picking up your purse. But instead of going towards the front door you go to the nearest car. “Wait!? Where are you going?!” Dick calls after you confused as everyone stands up and follows behind you confused.

“Retail therapy.” You grin as you turn around to smile at them.

You didn’t expect them to follow you. But perhaps you should’ve. You also should’ve stayed with your husband instead of coming back to the manor.

You shake your head trying to refocus on shopping and not focus on all the things overwhelming you right now..

You immediately spot your favourite store, it was a department store that had everything from food to clothes to the strangest items you’ve ever seen in your life. The last time you went you saw a statue of Abraham Lincoln in drag, a smut book of the current president and his political opponent and a dress covered in buttons.

“What is this.” Damian pointed at the store. The store had a sort of rundown look that immediately you probably wouldn’t go in now however since you’ve been here since you were just a bored teen who used to explore Gotham without a care in the world. “A store.” You say bluntly as you walk past them and head in, not bothering to explain anymore. Of course you’re not free of them yet since they also go in with you.

The store inside is similar to a warehouse inside, the only thing separating it from being an actual warehouse is the decoration on the floors and ceilings. You decide to peak at the clothing isle first, they usually have some cute baby clothes.

It seems they have continued to follow you, Dick grabs two shirts and checks their price tags before looking at you confused, “why is everything so cheap?” He frowns. You scowl right back in reply, “Because I’m basically their only customer, Richard.” You flip your head back around and walk off determined to get to the kids section. You knew a Dick wasn’t trying to attack you personally but you loved this damn store and you wouldn’t let anyone ruin that for you.

Two items in the baby’s section stood out and you could decide which one to buy. One was a onesie, it looked liked it was based off of that one popular kid’s book caterpillar and the other being watermelon overalls. Whatever you’ll just get both. After all your kid should be well dressed and have a bunch of different choices. As you held the clothing, it felt weird to hold up such tiny articles of clothing, to know you’ll have to give birth to a little life makes you all nervous and emotional. You can feel a small lump in your throat forming, you pull out your phone and check the messages from your husband. You usually did that when you were feeling emotional it helped you calm down. You forgot that you were currently ignoring him so when you opened up the messages you just felt even worse.

New messages from: My Superhero ❤️💍

“My love, please. I’m sorry we can do your choice okay?”

“I know you’re upset but I have checked almost every hotel and they say you aren’t staying with any of them.”

“The love of my life you are very pregnant, hormonal and quite frankly a little tiny bit insane. I’m worried about you.”

Okay the insane bit was unnecessary and lowkey pissed you off all over again. You had to pull yourself out of the baby clothing section and your phone otherwise you’d end up just buying everything and calling your husband to yell at him for that line. Instead you choose to loiter around the kids section instead. Never hurts to prepare yourself for the future of the kid after all. It also seems Cassandra, Tim, Jason, Dick and Damian finally caught up to you.

“What are you looking at? Do you have another kid we don’t know about because none of those will fit right now.” Jason points out and you roll your eyes. “Just looking.” You reply. Then you suddenly glance at Damian and get a wicked idea. You think Damian suddenly got the chills because he looked up at you and realized your plan. You think the others had the same idea because they all shared the same acknowledging look.

Every outfit you, Cass and Dick picked were really cute on Damian, from little Tuxedos to everyday wear that just made him look so adorable despite his protests. While Tim’s and Jason’s were straight hilarious, Jason picked out at one point a giraffe onesie and Damian practically launched himself at Jason. The only reason he tried it on is because everyone begged him to. Through the entire process Damian scowled and complained. However he still did it anyways, Maybe he liked the attention on him. He is a kid after all.

This time Damian walks out in the last outfit you picked for him.

You really don’t know why you started to cry. Or why you ran to Damian and held him in your arms. Hell you can’t really remember a lot that happened after that, you just remember everyone looking concerned, especially Damian as he looked up at you panicked. Then you remember falling asleep in the car ride home.

[sparklystarrrr]

Just saw your RiddlexKing of Hearts Reader. It’s so adorable and I love seeing Riddle be smothered in affection. But I had an idea… (this is post overblot) Riddle leaves for a minute and our sweet lil reader turns to the group and says that she knows about the overblot. She knows about all the chaos SOME of the freshman *cough Adeuce cough* cause, and she knows how stressed Riddle can get. Then, with a warm smile on her face, she threatens to come back and take care of the guys if anything close to the overblot happens again. She may not be able to do anything about Riddle’s mother (yet) but her family has enough status and power to help take care of some misbehaving boys. When Riddle returns he’s confused why all of his dorm seems on edge but his lovely fiancé is just smiling and compliments the sweets served at the party. Maybe she even says they should think about having Trey bake their wedding cake.

Sorry, went off a bit there. You don’t have to write it but the idea was just stuck in my head. I just really love when the sunshine character can be all scary and intimidating with a smile.

THATS MY FAV TROPE EVERRRRR

Queen of My Heart Pt. 2

Synopsis: Sunshine can turn into a storm very quick…

Contains: Riddle R. x Fem! King of Hearts! Reader, continuation of pt.1, kinda short sorry!

The Unbirthday party was going swimmingly. Everyone was full of joy and laughter, there was no Tyrant ordering people around, the food was delicious, and the air was shining and light. "Dear, I'm heading to the restroom for just a moment. I'll be right back." Riddle said to (y/n) who sat prettily in her King's chair. "Of course darling, be quick!" she spoke with a warm voice like the sweet honey Riddle enjoyed putting in his tea. He then pressed a small kiss upon her forehead and made his way inside the dorm house.

Little did the students of Heartslabyul know, their sweet and kind (y/n)’s attitude would sour the second her red-headed fiancé was out of her sight. Once Riddle was completely hidden from view, her aura darkened. It was like a pitch black storm cloud completely blocked out the sun in just seconds. Her warm smile became strained and her posture tightened. She gripped the end of her pleated skirt,”So boys, I got many letters from Riddle these past few weeks...” Trey, Cater and the Adeuce duo turned to her at the sound of her voice. They felt uneasy. Before they could ask if she was alright, she continued.”Care to tell me why and how Riddle Overblotted..?”

Suddenly and without any warning, the girl became dark and ominous. The air was heavy; pressing down on every single Heartslabyul boy. "U-uh, Miss (y/n), it really was an accident-" "No yeah uh, we totally didn't piss him off at all..." "Bro why would you expose us like that??" "He's perfectly fine now (n/n) and I think that's all that matters... I hope." The four boys sat at the same table as her stammered endlessly. As much as they tried to figure out a way to excuse themselves, (y/n) came back harder and stronger making them shrink back in fear.

"Oh, you don't need to make up excuses... I know everything..." She said in an eerie whisper while snapping her head to the first year boys who were sweating their butts off in fear and practically shaking under her piercing (e/c) gaze. Her chaste smile was nothing but terrifying. They'd never seen a woman flip the switch on her warm and soft demeanor while still smiling happily. The whole yard of boys went silent. "You all truly have nothing else to say? My my..." She trailed in her sweet voice. "You do this again... and it'll be off with your head on my accord, got it?"

The boys nearly fainted. Every single one of them hurried out of their chairs and made it a point to bow in deep fear. "Y-yes Ma'am!" She laughed bitterly. "Very good, let the party resume!" She clapped. Suddenly, that gummy smile was plastered back onto her face while she cut herself a few slices of various cakes and tarts and other desserts. The students nodded hastily and wearily went back to eating and conversing.

(y/n)'s eyes sparkled as her red haired fiance made his way back to the party. He felt the strained feelings in the air and looked around at his fearful students who were much quieter than before. As he walked closer to his designated table with his five favorite people, he saw that his sweet little angel (y/n) was sitting and eating desserts with an adorable smile on her pink lips. Around her? Terrified Adeuce and a scarred Trey and Cater.

He sat down next to his fiance hesitantly and she began going on her sweet little rants"Oh Riddle dear, Trey really did make the desserts so well! I remember you took me to his bakery for our anniversaries, we should totally have him make our wedding cake shouldn't we?" They girl spoke happily while chomping down another bite of the creamy cheesecake.

He smiled at her, then hesitated to speak,"Absolutely my dear, but I have a question... Why are the students in shell shock..? Did something happen whilst I was away?" Riddle questioned in deep concern. "Nothing happened! I just had a quick chit chat with them. Right boys?" She looked at the four boys next to them. They quickly muttered "yes" and "yeah"s under their breath and looking down at the food in their plates.

Riddle sighed then let out an airy chuckle. He gently brought the young lady's delicate hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on it, trying to calm her nerves. The boy found it easy to read his fiance. Knowing that she'd scared all of Heartslabyul into having nightmares of her tonight? It's safe to say he was a proud future husband.

[domesticatedstew]

OK SO

I might have written, some more mud/diligence but this time... it's smut. this is also my first time posting any smut I've actually written so it's not gonna be great 😭 (also I'll tag any tw needed!)

MINORS DNI

It had been a long and exhausting day for everyone in the resturant, and the last thing Mud wanted to do was sleep on the meat hook.

But until they got enough scarab to buy everyone a bed, he was stuck with the freezer. Maybe Mud would get lucky and the meat hook would kill him as he slid onto it so he'd be able to fall asleep without practically shuttering his skin off (what's left of his skin anyway.)

He pierced his spine onto the frigid metal in hopes his idea would work, but instead it just shot waves of pain through his entire skeletal structure. Mud groaned as he pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his coat tighter around his shivering body. Fate was merciful to him tonight, as sleep quickly enveloped the rotling and he soon couldn't feel the throbbing pain coursing in his bones.

Opening his eyes, Mud could see dark orange skies through a beautiful stained glass window. It illuminated a circle around where he sat but everything else was shrouded in darkness; anything could've been hiding in that darkness. It made Mud feel more vulnerable than he cared for.

Mud tried to stand but immediately felt the tug of rope against his wrists and ankles. Something was horribly wrong, he'd never ever get into this situation (not even willingly.)

His breath quickened and a knot formed in his stomach. He tugged on the rope with all his might but they didn't budge. It was like all his strength was sapped out of him. Panic was setting in and Mud knew he needed to get the hell out of here, where ever here was.

"Well well well, if it isn't my favorite disgusting coward," A sultry voice spoke from behind him, causing Mud to snap his head around to see who said it, he nearly snapped his head off his neck in the process. That would've been infinitely better than being tied up with some mystery person. A hand grasped his shoulder, digging rough nails into his flesh and pulling the chair to their direction.

Diligence. The Virtue finallt caught up to Mud after thousands of years of hiding.

"You've certainly gotten more repulsive over the last few thousand years! I miss every second I had to not stare at your face, but staring at this," Diligence dug his metallic nails into Mud's chin, forcing him to stare into the Virtue's brain. "As I rip you to shreds will make everything worth it."

Being this close to the monochromatic robot sent chills down Mud's back, but for some reason ignited a heat in his lower stomach he hadn't felt in eons. It made him squirm in his seat.

Diligence let go of Mud's slimey face, wiping the excess goo off onto his trench coat. If Diligence had eyes, Mud would've been able to see the pure disgust they felt within them. "Hmmm, now what do you think would make for a good start to your endless torment, run away?" The Virtue placed their boot directly in between Mud's open legs, the heel dangerously close to his groin. He had to bite back a groan as Diligence applied more and more pressure, the knife like heel digging a hole into the wooden chair.

But nothing could get passed the Virtue, not even the moans Mud tried with all his might to hide. "Do you enjoy this? You really are no different than every other pathetic creature under my rein, but you intrigued me." There was a hint of laughter in the way they spoke, like they were planning some big joke at Mud's expense. "I don't like this you rotten-" "The only rotten thing here is YOU." Diligence shoved the chair to the floor, causing Mud to slam the back of his head into the stone floor.

The rotling couldn't hold back a groan that time, but at least it was out of pain and not pleasure this time. He was embarrassed with himself for even liking being around the very thing he escaped from.

"You need to be taught a lesson, even if you enjoy it for some sick, deprived, reason." The robot circled around the now laying down Mud. They looked even more intimidating than usual, but their long slender legs glistened under the orange light. He was never more glad to not have a 'package' than he was now. There was always something so appealing with how Diligence was designed, whoever made their body clearly had favorites.

A large heeled boot slammed beside his head, missing Mud's sludgey head by a few mere inches; the stone floor cracked under the sheer force of their legs. Mud gulped and avoided looking directly up at Diligence who now stood over him.

"You are the most revolting creature I've ever had the misfortune of commanding." Diligence, now crouched over top of the still tied up (and also now very horny) Mud.

It was unbearable, the shame and the pleasure mixing in a horrible concoction of emotions in his stomach. He wanted to stare at the beauty in front of him but logic told him that "beauty" was nothing more than a beast who wanted to torture him. "Whatever you want, I'm not telling you." He spat at the glass face of the Virtue, a large green blob of gunk slid off and landed back on Mud's coat; leaving a nasty translucent trail down the robot's face.

Diligence simply chuckled at his pathetic attempt at standing his ground, "I don't want information, I just want to ruin you, you stupid rotling."

They wrapped their long metallic fingers around Mud's neck and lifted him up, chair and all, all while nearly breaking his wind pipe. Mud was never more thankful to be sitting upright again, but Diligence's grasp on his neck didn't waver. The lack of oxygen was starting to get to the tall rotling and his thoughts became more and more delirious, and more and more sexual. He started hoping that anything would help with the growing need in his crotch, even the horrible being who brought him here in the first place.

The Virtue seemed to read his mind. Both hands clasped Mud's thighs, dangerously close to where Mud actually wanted them but not close enough. He wanted to let out a frustrated moan, but was cut off as Diligence leaned in right beside his ear. "You want me to ruin you, correct?"

Instinct from his days as a soldier immediately kicked in, but the arousal didn't dampen for a single second. "Yes sir," He croaked out, shimmying to try and get Diligence's iron grip on his thighs to go closer to where he actually wanted them.

One hand dug it's nails into the flesh of Mud's thigh, bright purple blood pooled around their white fingers. The pain clouded his vision, Mud didn't even notice that Diligence let go of his other thigh and had finally reached towards his crotch.

"G-Gah!! You sick fuck, I'd shoot you down i-if fuck if I wasn't tied to this chair," Mud struggled to form a coherent sentence, pain and pleasure combining together into a cloudy haze in his brain. "You stop talking, or else I end this now and just kill you like a horrible, gross, insect," Diligence pressed harder into Mud's groin, causing the rotling to jolt in his seat.

Diligence rubbed the growing heat in Mud's pants, feeling a sopping wet mess forming under their fingers. Mud threw his head back, completely disregarding any shame he once had as the knot in his stomach threatened to break him. Sharp and pristine white claws sliced open his thigh, but it didn't ruin the moment, it only amplified every amazing feeling running through his body.

More and more moans filled the room like the bright orange light filled the skies. Mud was so close to cumming. He didn't give a shit that the creature making him cum was his ex commander, or that his ex commander was probably gonna kill him the second after he cums. All he cares about was finallt being able to release after so many years of no action.

"Mud." Another voice joined in, much fainter and distant. He ignored it, so so so close to cumming, he didn't want anything ruining this.

"Mud!" There it was again, louder now and more annoying.

"MUD!! WAKE UP YOU LAZY BUM, ITS AN HOUR PASSED OPENING!!!"

Suddenly Mud was ripped from his confusingly sexy dream as he was tossed to the ground. All the pain from his sleeping hook and the cold from the freezer brutally made their way back into the forefront of his brain.

"Get up and go do your job or SO HELP ME." Ken stomped his way out of the freezer and back into the dining room, completely oblivious to Mud's deep red face and ruined dream.

"God fucking damn it."

[brunettemarionette]

Late Night at The Beef

💜 pairing. Carmy Berzatto x Reader

🔮 summary. you and Carmy share a charged, flirtatious moment during late night kitchen prep. As you banter over cleaning and perfectionism, the tension builds with stolen glances and suggestive remarks.

🌙 tw. suggestive content. workplace dynamics. sexual tension

The Beef was quiet, except for the walk-in fridge's low hum and the occasional clatter of Chicago's nightlife filtering through the cracked back door.

It was past midnight, the kind of hour where the world felt like it belonged only to those too stubborn to sleep.

Carmen was leaning over the stainless-steel counter, his chef's knife gliding through a pile of onions with surgical precision. His curls stuck to his forehead, damp from the heat of the kitchen and the intensity he poured into everything, even prep work no one would see.

You stood at the other end of the counter, wiping down the cutting boards, the faint scent of bleach mingling with the earthiness of the herbs Carmy had been chopping earlier.

You'd started working at The Beef a month ago, and somehow, these late-night shifts with Carmy had become your unspoken routine. He didn't talk much—never did—but the silence between you wasn't empty. It was heavy and charged, like the air before a storm.

"Yo, you missed a spot," Carmy said, his voice low, almost teasing, as he nodded toward a smudge on the counter you'd just cleaned. His blue eyes flicked up to meet yours, lingering a second too long before dropping back to his onions.

You smirked, tossing the rag over your shoulder. "You're gonna micromanage my cleaning now, Chef? Thought you had enough on your plate."

He snorted, the corner of his mouth twitching into something that wasn't quite a smile but close enough to make your pulse kick up. "Just sayin', if it's not perfect, it's not done."

You stepped closer, leaning one hip against the counter, close enough to catch the faint cedar-and-smoke scent of his cologne layered under the kitchen's grit. "Perfect, huh? That why you're still here at one a.m, chopping onions like it's a Michelin-star audition?"

Carmy's hands stilled, the knife hovering mid-slice. He looked at you, really looked, and for a moment, the weight of his stare made the room feel smaller, the air thicker. "Maybe I just like the company," he said, voice quieter now, rough around the edges like he wasn't used to saying things like that.

Your breath caught, but you played it cool, tilting your head. "Careful, Carm. That almost sounded like a compliment."

He huffed, shaking his head, but there was a spark in his eyes, something hungry, not just for food but for something else.

He set the knife down, wiping his hands on the towel slung over his shoulder, and stepped around the counter toward you. The space between you shrank, and suddenly, the kitchen felt too warm, too close.

"You're trouble, you know that?" he murmured, stopping just short of touching you. His voice was low, almost a growl, and the way his gaze dropped to your lips for a split second sent a shiver down your spine. "Makin' it real hard to focus."

You raised an eyebrow, heart pounding but refusing to back down. "And you're not? Standing there all intense, looking like you're about to eat me instead of those onions?"

Carmy's jaw tightened, and for a second, you thought he might close the gap, might let the tension spill over into something reckless. His hand twitched at his side like he was fighting the urge to reach out, to pull you in.

Instead, he leaned in just enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him, his breath brushing your ear as he spoke. "Keep talkin' like that," he said, voice thick with promise, "and I might just take you up on it."

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes again, and the look he gave you was pure fire—restrained, but barely.

Then, like he'd caught himself, he stepped away, grabbing his knife again, the moment snapping like a taut wire. But the air still buzzed, and as you went back to cleaning, you could feel his eyes on you, stealing glances between every slice.

The Beef was a mess and probably always would be. But nights like this, with Carmy's quiet intensity and the unspoken things hanging between you? They were damn near perfect.

[mongoosingisme]

Hi, hello.

All this recent talk about Shane coded songs made me think about Harvey a bit. I’m of the opinion that he’d be a fan of the Decemberists, and from that thought came what has got to be the most self-indulgent little thing I’ve ever written.

Look below the cut for some SFW fluff.

Contains: domesticity and conversations best suited for those of us whose musical tastes crystallized in the 2006 indie folk scene.

Harvey had a vinyl collection. It was endearing, his dedication to physical media. Mostly jazz albums, smooth and smoky, all warm and rich through his speakers.

You weren’t much for jazz. He had some other options too, but you weren’t sure those were for you either.

“Why do you listen to music about dead babies?”

You’d asked it while washing the dishes. Harvey nearly dropped the plate in his hands. “What!?”

You shrugged. “I put on one of your records and the guy was singing about a dead baby.”

“You… what album?” Harvey’s eyes were crinkled in bemusement.

“It had a boat on it?”

Harvey thought for a second, then his face lit in recognition. “The Decemberists! They’re wonderful!”

You laughed. “Didn’t know your taste was so… edgy?”

“Oh no no no.” Harvey was blushing. “That track… not a good representation. Here.” He dried his hands, grabbed yours, pulled you into his hobby room. You leaned against the door, trying to control your smile as he rifled through his albums. He made a small “ah” sound as he pulled one out. “This is a better starting point.”

Strings filled the room, and you settled in on the floor to listen. You liked this one a little better, but…

“Is this a song about a couple jumping off a cliff together?”

“…yes?” Harvey ducked his head, an embarrassed smile playing on his lips.

“I mean, I like it better than the dead baby one…”

“Hmmm…” Harvey fiddled with the player again. “They’re known for this one. Might want to sit down, it’s long.”

You appeased him, doing your best not to knock into the model that was drying on the table next to you. Harvey joined, picking up a bit of sandpaper. He worked away at a few small pieces of wood as you spent the next nine minutes trying to follow the action of a rambling nautical tale.

“So let me get this straight,” you said as an accordion reeled through its outro. “This dude bankrupted the kids mom and gave her an std or something, so the singer took to sea to kill him, but then they both got swallowed by a whale, but he’s still gonna kill him?”

Harvey nodded, keeping his eyes on his project. “Yup. That’s… that’s about it.”

“Huh.” You sat and watched him for a moment as he smoothed away at a rough edge. The track transitioned, a gentle guitar picking, the lead singer’s lowing tenor sliding through a simple melody.

You recognized it.

“I think I know this one?” You tried to place it. It sounded a little different in your head. Softer. Hummed.

Harvey was blushing again. “I get it stuck in my head sometimes. It’s one of my favorites. ‘Of Angels and Angles.’ Makes me think of you.”

“Awww…” You couldn’t help the slow smile. That was exactly it. Harvey would hum it sometimes around the house, or, now that you were thinking a little harder, when you were in bed, head on his chest, the melody rumbling beneath you as you grew warm and tired and relaxed.

Harvey’s lips were moving, singing without singing as he brushed away a bit of dust from the wing he held.

There’s a swallow

There’s a calm

Here’s a hand to lay on your open palm today

You stood, wrapped your arms around his shoulder, buried your face in his hair as the song wound its way to its end. “Alright,” you said. “That was a lot better than the first one I heard. What else you got?”

Harvey tilted his head up at you. “Ever heard the story of the crane wife?”

You hadn’t, but now you couldn’t wait to hear all about it.

[msfantasy-anime]

I’m in love with my best friends ex

Eijiro Kirishima x MeanGirl!Reader

Ex!Katsuki Bakugo x MeanGirl!Reader

Summary: Katsuki Bakugo has just broken up with his girlfriend who seems to be getting on a little too well with his best friend Kirishima

Warning: Angst, unhappy ending

“So what’s the deal with you and Bakugo?” Eijiro asks placing his empty ice-cream cup next to him. The night air had a cold bite to it. Maybe the ice cream wasn’t a good idea.

“What do you mean?” You ask, still spooning your ice cream into your mouth as you continue to look onwards, enjoying the park night view before you, the empty playground was oddly scerene.

“I mean, why are you so … into him?” Eijiro asks nervously, unsure if he used the right words seeing how your face had screwed up in irritation.

“Erm, barf. Don’t get me wrong Kiri, I don’t like Bakugo at all. I just flirt with him because its hilarious to see that doofus get a big fat head. He’s so dumb he doesn’t even realise he’s part of the joke.” You shrug eating the last spoon full of ice cream and laugh that signature hearty laugh.

“Are you serious? That’s a little twisted.” Eijiro’s tone of judgement makes you feel like you’re under the microscope.

“Oh shove it- you don’t know what it’s like having dated someone like him.” You say defensively. You look over at Eijiro and notice he’s shivering like a leaf. “Jeez i told you to bring a jacket, let’s head back.” You lecture, wrapping your arms around him, as you both co-ordinate your steps back to the dorms.

“What about Y/n?” Mineta asks. “I think if I play my cards right, that I could have a girlfriend by the end of the year.”

Sero snorts at Mineta’s suggestion. “You sure bud? Ignoring the fact she never would. She’d bite your head off before you even had the chance. Besides she seems to have eyes for someone else these days…” Sero teases throwing knowing glances towards Kirishima and wiggling his eyebrows.

“She’s still in love with me. It’s pathetic, and sad.” Katsuki chimes in for the first time since Mineta started this ridiculous conversation on who he could bag in class.

“What are you even talking about?! Y/n obviously hates your guts. We’re talking about Kirishima~” Kiminari oh’s also wiggling his brows suggestively towards Kirishima which he try’s to ignore despite the growing warmth in the pit of his stomach.

“What are you stupid? The girls all over me.” Katsuki reprimands leaving Mineta, Kiminari and Sero to share confused looks.

“Dude, she’s just messing with you when she flirts, she doesn’t actually mean anything by it. Told me so herself.” Katsuki’s eyes narrow at this.

“Why the fuck would she tell you that?” He bites viciously.

Kirishima shrugs, “I dunno, it came up when we hungout last night.”

“Hungout? Like with a group of people.” The three boys sit back now eating their figurative pop corn as the two best friends slowly escalate into a blow out argument.

“Ah, no, usually it’s just me and her.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrow down at this new found information. “Why the fuck are you hanging out with my ex behind my back for.”

“Common bro it’s not like that.” Kirishima attempts to defend. “I’m a night owl and with Y/n’s insomnia we tend to just -“

“Shut the fuck up, don’t lie to my face. I see how you look at her- and Incase it wasn’t obvious, she’s still not over me.” Katsuki snaps, unwilling to hear Kirishima’s explanation.

“Dude, it’s not like that-“ Kirishima defends but Katsuki isn’t having it.

“I know what it’s like, and you’re just like every other idiot that’s infatuated with her.” Katsuki berates, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter what you do or how hard you try, she’ll always come crawling back to me, just like she did all those other times.”

“Whatever man.” Eijiro mutters leaving his best friend storming off leaving Kirishima there to stew over his words ‘Just like all those other times’ because despite Katsuki’s lethal words, he was right. You were stuck in a cycle with Katsuki for going on again and off again. Anytime there was a potential new love interest to break the cycle, Katsuki would come sliding right back in, either scaring off the poor souls who dared to try and win your affections or by becoming the charming gentle boyfriend you always wanted.

Even though it was obvious to everyone else. Eijiro would never dare admit it out loud. But he was most definitely, unequivocally, undeniably, in love with you.

No matter how much he tries to persuade his heart away from you, he cannot resist loving you, and he’s pretty sure you hold some affections for him too.

So what’s the problem?

You’re his best friends’ ex and it fucking sucks because despite the chemistry, despite Eijiros stupid fucking heart, he CANT have you. He could never do that to his best friend.

Never.

“Oi, got your message.” Katsuki hollers, sliding in next to you as you sit in the dark park shivering your ass off waiting for that tardy prick.

“I need to talk to you about something serious.” You say, working up your nerve.

“If you want me back, you know what to do.” He says smugly leaning back on his palms which only makes your face twist in disgust.

“I knew this was a waste of fucking time.” You seeth, getting up to leave only for Katsuki to grab you by the wrist and yanking you back.

“Calm down, I’m just joking. What do you want?” He grumbles.

“Can you let me go?”

“What are you talking about, I’m not even touching you.”

“Not physically Bakugo, I’m talking metaphorically. We always break up and get back together and I am sick of the cycle. Anytime a new guy comes into the picture, you scare them off with your rabid dog behaviour and because I’m pathetic and lonely I get back with you only for the cycle to repeat. I-I found someone new, I like him and want a proper shot with him. But I can’t if your going to get in the way.” You begin to verbally spew all of your thoughts until you look over at Katsuki who remains scowling at the ground, not listening. “I knew it, you don’t fucking care.“

“I do care.” He says with a gentleness that you haven’t heard in a long time. He looks at you from the corner of his eye. Your heart begins to clench painfully to see a glimpse of the man you use to be in love with. “I-I don’t know… how we became this…” he admits which takes your breath away.

“I know… I use to think we’d make the perfect couple.” You chuckle dryly. “Somehow we bring out the worse in each other huh?” You’re waiting for Katsuki to snap back into his egotistical retort but he doesn’t.

“Something like that.” He says, looking up to the stars in the sky. “I just… fucking love you so much…” He says, a singular tear dropping from his eye making your mind go blank at the vulnerability you didn’t think existed in him. You’re tempted to reassure him; to sing him a thousand praises but you resist all your instincts and stop yourself from interrupting. “You were my fucking world you know? Every time you’d give me a chance, I’d fuck it up and my world would shatter all over again.” He admits, your eyes begins to mist at Katsuki’s story. You honestly had no idea he felt this way. “But each time you’d come right back to me, more distant than the last which would drive me crazy and I would fuck it up all over again!” He yells, expecting you to huff and run away whenever he starts yelling, but this time you place your hand on his cheek in comfort. “You know, I’m not some fucking evil ex-boyfriend out to get you. So stop telling your friends I just want you to be single and miserable - i want you to be happy- I just wanted it to be me that makes you happy.” You smile back at Katsuki who’s looking beyond miserable.

“I wanted you to be the one to do it too.” You whisper, your voice straining from your emotions running high.

“Yeah well now, you just treat me like some fucking stranger.” Your mind begins to twist at the accusation. “I gave you my whole self and you have the audacity to call me by my fucking last name.” He seethes, his leg bouncing, unable to restrain himself. “You took everything from me— so what is it Y/n. What more from me do you fucking want? Hm?” Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. “You want to take my best friend too?”

And there it was. The unspoken truth.

Because you did want Eijiro Kirishima so bad, he just gets you in ways no one else did. Everything with Eijiro just feels right but you knew you could never have him. So long as Katsuki was here.

“Katsuki-“ You reach out for him but he just yanks away from your grasp.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” He yells, pulling away from your hold. “I’m tried of always being the fucking villain in your stories, you think your always the hero? Think you never do anything wrong? Be the fucking villain for once- say it!”

“Katsuki-“

“Ask the fucking selfish question you came to ask me! Make me live my fucking nightmare!” He demands and a cry rips from your throat.

“I want your blessing to date Eijiro!” You yell back, feeling the twisting sinking feeling of regret to see the painful expression made on Katsuki’s face. “I’m sorry Katsuki, I know it’s selfish, but I’m in love with Eijiro and I want to be with him. But he would never allow it because he’s a good friend— a good person. I know what you and I had was special, and I never thought things would turn out like this. But I just want to be happy and I just want you to move on and be happy.” Your lips quiver uncontrollably, feeling utterly evil and horrible. “Please be the bigger man, and let me be happy with someone else. Even if it’s with your best friend.”

“You never needed my blessing — it’s not mine to give. Kirishima is the only person left with something to say.” He mutters, turns away and leaves.

Sitting in the dark park once again, Eijiro continues to side eye you. Waiting for you to say something.

Things at school have been awfully tense recently.

Bakugo acting normal, only now he’s been treating you like you don’t exist, all whilst you glance at him from time to time with a pained expression.

“Kiri Kiri, I have something to tell you.” He shifts his body to face you, feeling that this is something serious.”

“What’s up?” He asks, your nervous eyes slowly working their way up to his own eyes.

“I… like you, a lot.” Eijiros heart flutters just as quickly as it plummets. These are words he wants to hear from you, and a gate-way to leading somewhere more. But Bakugo…

“I-“ Kirishima grows a frown, looking down cast, unable to look you in the eyes and see any negative emotions inflicted by him. “Like you too Y/n but I can’t be with you.”

Reaching out you grab his hand. “That’s the thing, I talked about it with Katsuki. Said it was non of his business.” Eijiro figured Bakubro would be manly like that… be he knows his bro all too well.

“Y/n. Bakubro is a good friend. He wouldn’t want to be the one to prevent your happiness nor mine. But Bakubro wouldn’t want this and… I won’t force him to witness his nightmare.” Eijiro states, taking a stand from his spot. “I don’t think we should see eachother for a while… I’m sorry.” He dashes away, unwilling and unable to see your face.

It’s the early morning hours of the weekend, the sun is barely poking through the sky and Kirishima figured the schools gym should be empty. Lowe and behold his best bro mid weightlifting set.

“Morning Bakubro.” He greets enthusiastically only to be stopped dead in his tracks with the confrontation.

“Are you dating now?” His gravelly voice questions. Any morning pep now squashed at the painful enquiry.

“… I wouldn’t do that to you.” Kirishima mutters, turning his back as he begins to do his morning warm-up.

[squigglesthebunny]

Static helpin out Hotstreak with some spelling!

I rewatched all of Static Shock so I had to make this cuz I can’t stop thinking about the show. 🤧🤧

[addoration]

well i didn’t have the best time tonight but at least my dress was cute :3

[ebbpettier]

simon snow sexy fireman style pinup calendar. is that anything.

[dewgongs]

going through and cleaning out my spacehey a little bit and i forgot about diary entries i made like 2 years ago about how hopeless and upset i felt about my last relationship's struggles and described my ex's issues and behavior as "catastrophic and neverending"... yeah sounds about right

[domesticatedstew]

part 2 to my Mel and Breadhead bonding fic! This time they find old ass pictures from the early days of the Whale Belly Butcher shop :D!! Lovely idea came from @noodletime

it features some of my personal headcanons so if you're confused feel free to ask :>

"AUGH COME ON! Breadhead you said his stash was under here but all I'm seeing is dust from a century ago!!" Mel snapped as she crawled out from under the floor boards.

"It was down there last time though! Maybe Mud moved it after he caught me with his... whatd he call it? Moon shine?" Breadhead helped dust off his sister in an attempt to calm her down, clearly though it didn't work. "HE HAD MOON SHINE??? And you got CAUGHT with it?!? No wonder why he moved it, that shits more rare than a dentist here."

She thought about where else Mud could have possibly hid his goodies, but then something clicked. "Maybe we're looking for the wrong persons booze," She giggled mischievously, knowing all the places Ken would try to hide his stuff from them. If he didn't want his stuff eaten or drunk then maybe he shouldn't have shown Mel all the hiding places when she was a baby.

Breadhead knew it was a horrible idea, but he wasnt about to turn down the offer of ransacking through his dad's stuff. He just hoped everyone else would be gone for an extra couple of hours.

Mel began looking in every single crevice and crack in the resturant, with each empty hidey hole lowering the hopes that they'd find the good booze to drink and have to settle with the liquor they sell to the customers. It wasn't bad but it's just not the same.

They had searched all potential booze hiding spots and found absolutely nothing. "There's one spot we haven't checked yet," Mel said, determined to make this day off interesting. She stomped her way towards the back of the resturant, the rooms getting more narrow and tight as they got closer to the end of the whale. "Stay here Breadhead, I dont wanna get stuck back here when Dad and Mud come back home."

She squeezed her was passed some old broken chairs and tables, hoping that what she was looking for was actually back here. Breadhead waited for his sister to pop back out holding bottles of liquor, and dreaded the sound of the bell on the front door jingling when it opens. They'd be in deep shit if Ken found out they were trying to steal his personal stash.

The back room seemed to go on forever, Mel was desperately trying to shimmy forward but all the hope she had for a fun time had basically flew out the window.

That was until she seen a box, "I FOUND IT!! Breadhead, pull my legs cuz I dont think I'm gonna be able to crawl backwards with this thing." The loaf snapped out of his thoughts and reached into the darkness, trying to find his sisters legs. Part of him worried about not being able to reach her and Mel getting stuck back there for all eternity. That worry quickly went away when he felt a pair of boots attached to a pair of legs and yanked his sister out of the tiny back corner of the resturant.

"Wait wait wait wait don't hold me upside down!!" It was too late, Mel was now hanging upside down by her feet with the box spilling all it's contents across the floor. Instead of bottles shattering on the hard wood floors, papers and photos were strewn out randomly in front of them, a large photo album nearly landed on Breadhead's foot. "Uhhhh Mel? I thought you said you found the booze," He said while still holding his sister by her feet, completely forgetting he should have let go by now.

"I thought it was booze too but I guess it's just a bunch of random junk, also can you put me down now?" Mel started feeling woozy from thr blood rushing to her head and she really hoped Breadhead would just put her down already. Without warning, Breadhead flipped her right side up and placed her back on her feet like normal. It was difficult to not immediately fall over while her blood went back to flowing normally.

Breadhead didn't notice his sister's stumbling as he kneeled down to flip over one of the photos on the floor. It was clearly old and weathered, having turned slightly yellow, and seemed to show the Whale Belly Butcher Shop when the whale was much fresher. There seemed to be writing underneath it but it was so faded he couldn't read it. Mel kneeled down beside him and picked up a different photograph, then immediately busted out laughing.

Mel had to grab onto her brother's shoulder to not fall on the floor laughing. "What is it Mel?" Breadhead asked, dropping the other picture and reaching for the one Mel was holding. "ITS DAD WITH A WIG," She could barely keep herself contained as she handed it over. Mel's laughter was contagious, since Breadhead began laughing his head off too. He wasn't able to stay upright, and went tumbling down on the floor with a loud thud.

The picture showed Ken, still rotten and decayed but clearly in better condition than he is now, standing in front of the brand new resturant. All while wearing a long, brown, glistening wig. Neither of them could see where the wig actually ended since it was cut off by the bottom of the photo, that only made them laugh harder. "This stuff is hilarious!!! We gotta see whatever stupid crap dad wore back then," She leaned forward to grab a new picture.

Flipping it over revealed a picture of Mud and Ken standing over some poor rotling with cement boots. Ken had gotten rid of the wig (or maybe this was before the wig) and Mud was significantly less gloopy. Both of them looked a millennia younger then they did now, it was impressive how much could change over the course of a few thousand years. There was more writing on the bottom but not only was it faded, it looked vastly different to the written language Breadhead and Mel knew. "Wow, they've been doin' this stuff for ages haven't they?" It was obvious Breadhead was admiring how dedicated they were to the whole crime family thing.

"I guess so, you have any clue what this says down here though?" She handed the picture to her brother who squinted at it for a few seconds, but only shook his head no.

She picked up a new picture in hopes it'd be something funny again. "Dad had a girlfriend?!?!" Breadhead loudly exclaimed, practically in Mel's ear. It was a picture of Ken with his arm wrapped around a woman rotling, who was giving him a big smooch on the side of his face. He still didn't have the butcher knife in his head and he was clearly wearing something other than his apron, but it was impossible to tell what since half of the picture looked water damaged. "Damn, it looks like they had a completely different life before us. I'm surprised anyone would wanna date that guy though," Mel joked as she reached for a piece of paper this time.

Unfortunately it was all written in the same language as the one on the pictures. It looked like the glyphs everyone else knew and yet they couldn't make out a single word. "Ugh, how old is this stuff?? Let's just look in the photo album, maybe that one's more recent," She groaned as she placed all the pictures she was holding back on the ground. The album looked to be in a much better condition than the random pictures, it only had a thin layer of dust on it!

Cracking open the book revealed picture after picture of Breadhead as a tiny loaf, still in his first proofing. "Awwww it's your baby pictures! Look, it says 'Miracle Buns'," Mel knew she was never gonna let Breadhead live down that he was called miracle buns when he was little. They turned the page and saw more photos of Breadhead, a few with Mud holding him (Ken was presumably behind the camera). All of them were captioned with some lovey dovey message.

One picture really stood out, baby Breadhead being held by the same women what was kissing Ken in the other picture. The loaf turned to look at Mel, "Do you think she could be...?" Mel knew exactly what he was asking, "I mean she could be but unless she shows up out of the blue one day, we're never gonna know."

Breadhead looked disappointed, but it was quickly replaced with excitement when he turned to the next page. "Look!! It's your baby pictures!" There she was, a tiny infant sitting next to the much larger loaf of bread that is her brother. She snatched the picture book from Breadhead's hands and studied the picture intently. A mild panic set in as she realized what other pictures could be in here, she didn't want Breadhead to figure her out like this. Mel flipped through a few more pages with pictures of her and Breadhead, stopping on one specific picture.

It was of her first time helping Ken butcher someone for the resturant. She was standing on a dining room chair with the large butcher knife Ken always used, about ready to slam it down on some carcass. She looked so focused on doing a good job, of making her dad proud. There was more writing on the bottom of the photo, saying 'Baby's first butchering'.

Mel could feel tears welling up in her eyes. She handed the book back to Breadhead and tried to desperately make it look like she just got dust in her eyes. Her brother knew better though, but he also knew better than to bring it up.

"Awe, it's my first cementing!" Before Mel could look at what Breadhead was trying to show her, they heard the jingle of the bell on the front door.

In a panic they shoved every paper and picture back into the box, making sure the picture book was on the bottom like it originally was. They scrambled to place the box back behind the old chairs and tables while trying to not alert everyone else of what they were doing. Mel made sure to keep that picture of Ken in a wig, in case she needed something to hold over her dad's head. You never know when you need to blackmail your own father.

"KIDS!! Where the hell are you guys? Come help us, we need to freeze these things ASAP." Ken's yelling was getting closer, they had to get the hell out of the back room without making it obvious they were snooping.

"Breadhead! You go help them while I finish putting this stuff away," Mel yell whispered to the loaf, who quickly nodded and sped walked out into the kicthen like nothing was going on. She could hear some chit chat going on, but she was too far away to actually understand what they were saying.

She slunk into the kitchen, making sure to avoid all the extra creaky floor boards. She'd just pretend she was drinking or something, yeah that'd work.

"There you are Mel! Go help Ken with putting away stuff in the case, you know how grouchy he can get when he's the only one putting away stuff," Mud made her nearly jump from her skin, she hated how he could just appear out of no where like that. "Yeah don't worry I'm gonna go help, someone's gotta be out in the front to make sure you don't steal anymore scarab," She teased, knowing he probably would steal from the register if no one was watching.

When Mel finally saw Ken, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her from busting out laughing. That picture of Ken in a wig was never gonna leave her mind.

[whitealbum]

nasty space song lip gloss. ignore ringo that’s just the last picture i had saved

[milo-is-rambling]

Me vs confusing gender thoughts vs mental illness

[cosmictheo]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | kang dae-ho

—summary: a sudden closeness of you and player 333 makes dae-ho's usually sweet mood swing in the opposite way, triggered by pure jealousy. why would you ever need anyone else when you've got him right there? —pairing: kang dae-ho/player 388 x female!reader —word count: 4.5k —contains: +18, smut !!! (minors dni), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, descriptions of the reader having female genitalia, some porn with some plot, really passionate sex, voyeurism, public sex, sub dae-ho!!! (canon), slight praise kink if you squint, he talks to you through it, jealous and possessive behavior, fluff, dae-ho being so in love with the reader.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

Kang Dae-ho had been protecting you ever since he had helped you survive Green Light, Red Light, the first game of all this hell in disguise as a promising new opportunity.

Not knowing you from absolutely nothing, he stepped right in front of you, stretching a hand out to the back to hold yours and guide you across the arena, playing human shield until together, you had crossed the finish line. 

And that basically summed up the kind of person Dae-ho is; kind-hearted, courageous, selfless, caring. He was one of the best people you had ever met and he was making this whole calvary into something much better, something brighter, something to keep fighting for until you made it out of there.

Since that, he had stuck by your side, practically standing as your own shadow, constantly putting you first, looking out for your well-being and safety. Without him, you would probably be dead by now, devoid of purpose.

The other players had already gotten used to seeing the two of you together, always watching each other's backs and fooling around and strategizing. Through thick and thin, you were together.

It was only a matter of time —hours—; before something else began to spark between the two of you, growing every time your hands brushed, or when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders or when your bodies cocooned in each other's warmth at night when you slept. A tension was just starting to build, an emotion that for some reason, would always make Dae-ho nervous and flustered, whenever you'd smile at him or clasp his bicep to be by his side every time Gi-hun related a story from his past experience at the games, or when you'd lean your head on his shoulder or when you'd hug each other every time a game ended.

Whatever it was, out of the same feeling, Dae-ho sensed a heaviness in the pit of his stomach, feeling as if his guts were constricting like a viper, every time you chatted with the 333 player.

He looks at you from the distance, frowning slightly as you laugh at something the guy says, he doesn't even know why he dislikes him so much... he just does.

“Why are you all puckered up?” Jung-bae questions him, pausing his own story to express concern for his teammate's face, following his gaze until he finds you, naturally.

Dae-ho clicks his tongue, shaking his head gently, his tone of voice fluctuating between disbelief and annoyance, "Why is she even over there? It's dangerous"

“Dangerous? Buddy, she's just talking to him. He saved her in the last game, remember?” Jung-bae answers him, confused by the uncharacteristic grumpy attitude of the younger man, used to the sight of him being so cheerful and jovial and optimistic.

“If it weren't for him, she wouldn't be here,” Young-il adds, also glancing at how you whisper with player 333, “She's just being polite.”

But Dae-ho huffs humorlessly, forcing his eyes to drag from you to Jung-bae standing in front of him, his fingers still grasping his fork tightly, not really feeling like eating lunch today, “Bullshit, I would've saved her anyway. She didn't need him.”

Gi-hun rolls his eyes, sitting by his side as he quietly observes the whole scene, chewing a mouthful of rice, “You're just jealous, man, admit it,” he pronounces with his mouth half full, eyes attentively scanning Dae-ho's reaction.

The whole group of men laugh upon seeing Dae-ho's face morph to one of embarrassment and some offense, cheeks blushing furiously at Gi-hun's fake allegation.

“I'm n-not jealous” he tries to defend himself with a stuttering voice, looking frantically around the amused faces of the men around him, his fingers letting his fork drop by his twitching and nervous state, attracting the attention of a few players who were nearby, including yours, which only makes Dae-ho to blush even redder.

Jung-bae smiles playfully, picking up the fork that had fallen to the ground, “And you're being overdramatic.”

“I am not!” Dae-ho squeals, his brow furrowing as he stands up and yanks the fork out of Jung-bae's hand. As the whole group laughs at him, his eyes again search for you in the crowd, finding you in record time, and his whole face darkens again as he notices the way your hand is resting down the player 333's forearm, like you would usually do with him.

He sighs heavily and for the first time, he seriously considers the words of the older men.

Time passes unnoticed within that place, hours perhaps, days? No one really knows.

But the warning that the lights go out in thirty minutes usually means that you should lie down and rest for the next event that the monsters who created this have planned for you all.

The first thing you notice when you arrive at the bed you share with Dae-ho, is that he is lying on his side with his back to you, which concerns you a little, since he never had his back to you when he would sleep.

Something is off.

“Dae-ho?” you call out his name in a gentle whisper, sitting down on the bunk and looking across the broadness of his back with worried eyes, “Are you okay?”

No response.

“Hey,” you try again gently, thinking that maybe he's not exactly having a good day, considering the current situation you're stuck in.

Dae-ho is feeling his chest heaving as he senses your hand laying on his shoulder, fingers delicately squeezing his flesh beneath the tracksuit jacket. 

And suddenly, he's cracking up.

“I'm trying to sleep” and yet, he replies to you curtly, without showing even the slightest sign of rolling over and wanting to actually look at you.

You admire his back with unconvinced eyes for a moment, lying down on the bed and resting your head on the pillow, your hand moving from his shoulder, down his back, across his shoulder blades, before dropping to the surface of the bed.

“You sound off.”

Dae-ho considers his options; whether to just keep talking to you in that oh-so-ungentlemanly way —which made him physically cringe—; whether to express everything he was feeling or just stay quiet and pretend to sleep.

In any case, he acts on impulse, rolling over so he can finally look at you, his eyes softening the instant they meet yours, his heart beating hard and fast, pounding in his ears.

“It's not good for you to associate with players outside our group,” he suddenly blurts out and sees how you just stare at him with further confusion washing over your pretty face, “It could be dangerous.”

“What do you mean?” you inquire, silently urging him to elaborate on his point. You are quick to notice how deadly serious his face is, his lips lightly pursed and his eyes solemn, a look that is unusual on him. You don't like to see him like that, like everyone there usually acted.

“Player 333,” he replies, jaw clenched, his eyes following you as you sat up again on the bed, looking down at him in sheer confusion, as if somehow, you aren't recognizing him, “I saw the way he was looking at you.”

He sounds... hurt? Disappointed?

“Lee Myung-gi” your face turns enlightened, finally understanding what he's referring to now.

Dae-ho deflects his gaze away from yours, slightly rolling his eyes. Whatever that idiot's name was...

“I was just talking to him. He saved me in the last game, Dae-ho,” you explain in an overly naive tone, a little smile curving the corner of your lips, “I went to thank him”

“But I am the one doing that, that's why I'm here. You didn't need him, you have me,” he retorts back to you instantly, your name being pronounced by his lips like a plea for mercy, gesturing to himself with his hand for emphasis on his words. Your brow furrows at the same time as his, your lips turning into a small pout, feeling like a scolded child, “I was going to save you anyway! You only need me, no one else...”

His voice fades the more he speaks, shaky hand brushing through his loose hair. And now you notice it, the betrayed and hurt expression on his face, his eyes hiding something more than friendliness, something much deeper and bigger.

He is jealous.

“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” you are questioning him, getting more comfortable on the mattress, your voice keeping low so as not to wake the others, but also firm on your side of the little argument. You had done nothing wrong, “He was just being a good companion—”

“He didn't seem to be performing the good companion role,” Dae-ho interrupts you, spitting out the words as if they were venomous, rising himself up to also sit on the bed and face you, gesticulating with his hands, his tone of voice is fueled by sarcasm and subtle irony now, “I didn't like the way he was looking at you... neither how you were touching him with your hand.”

He crosses his arms and resembles a sulky kid who's had his favorite toy taken away, but you're too pissed off to pause and laugh at him.

Instead, you roll your eyes, starting to unbutton your jacket, feeling too hot all of a sudden, Dae-ho's eyes follow your fingers as they pull down the zipper, “You're being overdramatic.”

"I'm not!" he gasps-whispers, expression offended, he genuinely does seem to be feeling betrayed by what you had done. He leans close to you, so close that you feel the natural warmth of his body, but you stand your ground, looking at him with baffled eyes, his gaze remains soft yet aching, “I'm just looking out for you.”

“You'd rather I touch your arm then?” you raise an eyebrow on your forehead, dropping the jacket by the bottom of the bed, holding his gaze, “Is that what this is all about?”

The effect of your words in instantaneous on Dae-ho, blushing and causing him to pull away from you rather abruptly, brushing his hand through his hair again like a maniac.

“Yes,” he replies with certainty, the word barging into his throat before he could even think of a reasonable response, so he shakes his head slightly, “I mean no— I mean yes—” he cuts himself off, flustered by your attentive gaze, “—that's not the point! The point is that you don't need to go to anyone else when you have me right here.”

He gulps hard, eagerly waiting for your reaction through desperate, sheepish eyes.

“I know,” you whisper, letting out a soft sigh from your mouth, switching to a more empathetic postur. Then you nod your head and stretch out a hand towards him, who wastes no second in reaching out to take it and pull it close to his chest, nuzzling your knuckles with his thumb, “But he just dragged me with him, I couldn't do much,” you offer him a small apologetic smile, “I know you would have saved me anyway, Dae-ho.”

“Of course,” he murmurs your name, bringing your hand to his mouth to press his lips onto your knucles, kissing your smooth skin, “You're not alone, you're with me. You are everything...”

Without saying anything, you move closer to him and hug him. Dae-ho is more than happy to reciprocate your embrace, wrapping his beefy arms around your waist and hiding his face in your neck, breathing in your sweet and comforting scent, the scent he so adores. You feel his warm breath against the sensitive skin of your neck and a shiver runs through you from head to toe.

One of your hands goes up to his head, caressing his hair, fingers sinking into his dark long locks, the soothing and so intimate touch making him sigh.

“You're jealous,” you murmur after a moment of comfortable, heart-warming silence, and he stiffens, his body freezing, you can feel the way his muscles tense against yours.

Dae-ho pulls away from you just a little, far enough to be able to look at you, offering you a sheepish little smile, his cheeks blushing from all the attention and touch and closeness, the way you're talking and looking at him has him breathless.

“Maybe a little,” his expression shifts to one of shame as he dares to confess, valiantly enough to hold your gaze, letting himself fall into the gentleness of your eyes, always so lively and playful, but as beautiful and sparkling as a pair of gemstones, with your long lashes brushing your cheekbones every time you blink.

His hands gently squeeze your waist, contouring your curves and fitting into them perfectly, as if crafted for him to touch and hold.

“You don't have to be jealous, sweets,” you assure him, like a promise, a complicity, leaning into him again.

Dae-ho swallows loudly, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels your beautiful soft lips press down onto his throat, kissing his bouncing Adam's apple. He can feel himself in heaven, letting himself be swept up by the way you are treating him, the way your hands run down his body, passing down his chest until they stop at his midsection, just at the moment your tongue traces across his skin, making him hiss, feeling all the air being knocked out of his lungs.

“Fuck— ngh,” he whimpers, his whole body aching with heat, his heart pumping hot blood into his crotch, heartbeats matching up with each of your wet kisses on his neck.

His big hands wander over your waist, lightly caressing your lower back, fingers barely grazing the curve of your ass above the fabric of your tracksuit pants, clasping the flesh, pressing you helplessly against his body. His touch is needy, but nonetheless respectful, as gentlemanly as ever.

“Is this okay?” comically enough he's the one to ask as your mouth reaches his chin by a wet trail of soft kisses through his skin and he almost feels himself cumming into his boxers by the way you open your eyes to look up at him, pupils dilated in pleasure.

You sigh out a soft chuckle and your breath crashes against his half-open lips, needily breathing in your air, breathing you in. Your fingers fiddle with the edge of his jacket.

“You want this?”

It's stupid that you even had the mere thought of that question.

“Yes, please, baby— please,” Dae-ho rushes to answer, hands squeezing everything they could grab from you, desperately, “Can I kiss yo—”

Before he managed to formulate the question your lips are on his and from one second to the next he pulls you close to sit on his lap, making you feel his erection press against the underside of your thigh.

Frantically, between kisses, tongues recognizing each other and hands grasping what they can of the other, he helps you to remove his shirt, breaking away for just a moment to pull it over his head, looking at you with eyes darkened with desire.

He groans against your mouth as you kiss again, your teeth nibbling gently on his bottom lip.

“Shh...” you coo against his lips, pushing him down to make his back lay against the bed, “You don't want the others to hear, do you?”

A playful smile stretches at the corner of his lips, squeezing your butt once you leaned over him to begin kissing his chest, his eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling the way your back arches.

“I wouldn't mind if 333 listens—”

“Dae-ho,” you name him disapprovingly, but your eyes are heavy with playfulness and longing.

He gazes adoringly up as you take off your shirt, eyes roaming down your neck, across your chest, down your stomach.

“You're so pretty, fuck— come here,” he tugs you closer to him to kiss you one more time, his hands detaching from your hips to lift his own, pulling down his pants and his now, wrecked boxers, clumsily sliding the waistband of the cloth down his thighs.

His dick springs free and it has you open-mouthed, staring down at it with eyes of raw longing and adoration. His mushroom-shaped, leaking, needy head bumps barely against his lower abdomen, lining up with his happy trail.

Dae-ho blushes under your gaze, one of his hands caresses your hip to attract your attention back to his face.

“Can you handle it, baby?” his tone of voice lowers sheepishly.

Your cunt pulsates around nothing from his words only and in less than ten seconds, you're stripping off your pants too, pulling your soaking wet panties aside. He can actually feel how wet you are when your pussy barely brushes against his bare crotch, he has to resist to keep from cumming right there.

“I can— fuck, yeah— I can handle it,” you babble tremblingly through gentle gasps as he reaches his cock, stroking it three times before he aligns it with your inviting hole, rubbing it slowly up and down your slit to scoop up all of your wetness, and use it as a natural lube.

Dae-ho bites down on his lower lip to muffle a moan that ascends his throat, feeling the head of his cock push up into the tight entrance of your pussy, plunging between your slick folds.

He leans his forehead flat against your chest, nestling right between your breasts, his whole body trembling from a riot of pleasure, muffling his moans and noises against your skin.

“Shit, y-you're— h-hah— you're so wet,” he raspes out into your bare skin, his lips slurring insults and name-calling you like a prayer, a poem through your sweaty skin, his tongue rolls out from between his parted lips, coating your skin with his drool. 

His hands are roaming over your hips, each digit digging into the fat of your ass, never applying weight, giving you all the time you needed to settle onto his size, yet his voice was desperate and eager with anticipation, “So tight— so pretty.”

Your lips are pressed against the crown of his head, breathing shakily as you begin to lower yourself into him achingly slow, drawing a gasp from both of you. Your palms squeeze his broad shoulders, suppressing the urge to cry out with every inch he is pushing his way inside you, your pussy fluttering and squishing him deeper.

“Yeah, just like that, that's it,” Dae-ho is praising you, pressing sloppy kisses all over your tits, fingers caressing your lower back while his other hand pats your ass appraisingly, “just a little more, baby, a little m-more and I'm all yours— I'm yours.”

His words really touch your very core, hand sliding up his neck to sink into his hair and pull it, making him hiss as he licks your nipple. Your pussy swallows another inch of him and you feel him in your fucking guts by now. He feels your squishy walls clench around him like a vice and he refuses to even think about the possibility of a life without feeling like this again.

“Dae-ho,” you whimper his name as the bulging tip of his cock reaches a particular spongy spot and instantly your whole body reacts as well.

“Mh-hm,” his lips lick and kiss your collarbone all the way up your neck and then he kisses your lips, “I'm here. I got you, I always got you,” his eyes finally lock with yours again and you nearly feel every single muscle and organ in your abdomen twitch when you notice tears being held back in them, all from the flood of pleasure and bliss your body is giving him.

He can feel himself in heaven, beneath you, his hips grinding up into yours as his cock is plunged so deep inside you.

Dae-ho kisses you again, intoxicated, a thread of spit remains connecting your mouths once you part.

A few more long seconds and you're all the way down sitting on him, his heavy, throbbing balls pressed flush against your ass. Your pussy envelops him thoroughly, molding into his shape as you breathe a deep sigh and Dae-ho breathes out as well when your nails dig into his shoulder blades.

“There you are, my baby, you're doing s-so good,” he croaks, fondling your backside affectionately, feeling your dampness dripping down his thighs, “Holy shit you feel good... I'm so deep—”

And when you start to move on top of him, he has to close his eyes, his sweaty palms pawing your ass, hopeless for your mercy. 

But you have no mercy, your pussy, your thighs, your fucking hips, the way you look down at him and ride him, giving him whiplash with every bounce. And he can swear he knows you from another life, from the way his cock forms a shape inside you, reaching parts within you that no one else has been capable of reaching before, as if your body was made for him— no, as if he was made to fit your body.

“My God—” he hiccups and you press your forehead against his, seeking his lips with yours to silence you both, pushing him down until he's lying flat on the mattress.

The bunk just barely creaks beneath the relentless sway of your hips slamming into his, ass bumping hard down on his thighs, taking him all the way down and up again, so deep that every time you bottom out you feel him in your fucking throat.

“You feel so good, baby,” you whine, looking down at him and all of his body is reacting to the petname.

You take in the gorgeous sight that is his face flushed with utter pleasure, eyes squinting, sweaty arms wrapping all around you and holding you impossibly close, his lower belly tensed and cramped.

He looks so pussy drunk, drinking and drinking in your body and essence, everything you provide. The tought makes you feel your insides flip, squeezing into a knot. And Dae-ho feels it too.

You bend down, lips falling onto his shoulder, trailing down to the tattoo on his side and when your tongue traces the black ink, exactly when his engorged tip brushes against your fucking cervix and your ass does a particularly powerful bounce on his thick thighs, he starts to feel his body twitching, reaching that exquisite release. He begins to cum, wracked by a rush of erotic bliss that has him seeing stars in the pitch-black.

His hips begin to meet yours in mid-between your wild bouncing and your pussy squelches around his cock, ready to take in all he has to give.

“I'm cumming— hah— b-baby, where—” he babbles through breathy hiccups and whimpers, his body is flushing, seeking your gaze with half-closed eyes, his chest gasping fast.

You kiss his tattoo one more time before answering him, having the nerve to smirk, as if you aren't jumping his bones, “Inside— mhm— fill me up, Dae-ho,” your eyes finally meet his and you squish his biceps, “please,” you beg him, with tears on your eyes.

“Holy shit— you don't have to convince me, love” he growls out hoarsely, and you have never hear him insult so much in such a short span of time. He kiss the corner of your lips messily, “I'm so fucking deep, you take it so well, baby— fuck.”

He chokes on his own voice and squeezes your hips until his palms are molded into your flesh. His tip touches that special squishy spot inside you again and you're cumming with him, both of you riding your own high, sinking into each other's bodies, souls becoming one. Straight into the core of the storm of pleasure.

His trembling fingers eventually loosen his grip on your ass, but his imprint stays right there, flushed. His cock softens deep inside you and you can feel it still spurting hot ropes up into your womb. Dae-ho whimpers flush against your mouth, gasping for breath. And you know you might as well die right there, tangled with his body.

Your head is empty, blurry with him and only him, your hips keep rolling on their own motion, slower. Your pussy squelches, full of him, the friction only makes him chant your name over and over in raspy whispers, like a hymn. Your orgasm is rough and strong, rocking your body like an earthquake. It makes you moan his name and he cuts you off, kissing you senselessly.

“Thank you, thank you...” he mumbles repeatedly against your mouth, hissing once you stop all movement on top of him. And he kisses you again, appreciatively, lovingly.

Dae-ho throws his head back on the bunk, trying to catch his breath, his hands drop to your thighs, always with a possessive hold, groping around for your ass, pressed down on his trembling thighs.

And it's ridiculous how absolutely majestic he looks there under you, in an afterglow that has him breathless, eyes narrowed and lost stare, gazing upwards as if he's suspended in paradise. His entire abdomen is sweaty and you hold back the urge to run your tongue across his cute little tummy, since your body is slowly beginning to give in to exhaustion, your legs wobbling.

You are satisfied with tracing your fingers along his sweaty skin, touching what were strong muscles, now softened under your thumbprints. Your hand makes an appreciative path up his pecs and he comes back to reality with the touch, looking up at you and patting your ass lightly, his gaze softening as he met your eyes amidst the darkness. The look of love.

“Don't do that, I'm about to get hard again,” he murmurs in a playful voice, a little sheepish smile growing on his lips. He is blushing, like he's not balls deep inside you, his cum leaking out of your cunt and trickling down your thighs.

You let out a sleepy chuckle, leaning down and snuggling close into his chest, his arms wrap around your shoulders and he tugs a blanket over the two of you.

“I had to take you on a date first,” Dae-ho blurts out suddenly, sounding more like he's talking to himself than to you, but you do manage to hear him, yet not really understanding what he's trying to say.

“What?” you ask curiously, still a little dizzy, fingers tracing light caresses on his chest, right where his heart is.

He clears his voice, bowing his chin so he can look down at you, gaze full pure love and adoration, his fingertips soothingly caressing your spine as he answers you in a hushed whisper, “I was supposed to take you on a date before.... all of this.”

You smile bashfully against his chest, looking up at him with big, soft eyes, “Well, we're not exactly in a position where having a date is doable, Dae-ho.”

But he is confident on the subject, fingers drawing little circles on the small of your back, “After we get out of this, I'll pick you up at your house and take you to the fanciest restaurant.”

You kiss him tenderly. 

And he smiles like he's actually in love.

“I'll be waiting for you in my best dress, then.”