#I love watching him and listening to him explain what he does | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jungkoode · 2 days ago

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𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | 12

˗ˏˋ vanilla coffee ˎˊ˗

"There's a science to making perfect coffee, he says. But there's no science to explain why watching him make it—shirtless and sleep-rumpled—makes you forget every reason you shouldn't want him."

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⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 7,4k

rating: explicit (sex)

content: jungkook literally has a vanilla kink at this point i'm sorry that wasn't even planned he's just got free will, coffee lessons that are somehow hot, tiny shorts being instigators, verbal sparring as foreplay, protected sex, titty play, titty worship, penetrative vaginal sex, him fingering her

✧ author's note ✧

Listen. LISTEN. I don’t know what kind of demonic possession took over me while writing this chapter, but I had zero control over my own hands. Like, the coffee scene? The mug sharing? The delicious moment??? I AM IN HELL. (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

I started this chapter with the intention of them being petty little gremlins about vanilla-scented products, and somehow it ended with Jungkook making a whole latte just to flex on Y/N. A LATTE. And don’t even get me started on the mug proximity crimes. The way Y/N is actively short-circuiting over his hands and forearms like a Victorian woman seeing ankle for the first time?? We are ALL in trouble. (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

And then—oh, god—the sweatpants menace. If you know, you know.

As always, please send thoughts, screams, and existential crises to the comment box. Love you, stay hydrated, and if a man ever offers to elevate your coffee… RUN. (Or sit in his lap. Your call.) (¬‿¬)

⋆｡°✩ read on✩°｡⋆

ao3

wattpad

Good tired is still tired.

Your bag hits the dining table with a thud that perfectly matches how your brain feels right now—heavy and slightly bruised.

7PM.

You gave him way more than forty minutes. Actually gave him two whole hours, not that you're counting.

Not that you care. You're just... observant.

But then you catch it—that familiar scent hanging in the air. Vanilla. Your mind immediately goes to that specific vanilla body wash that costs way too much but is the only thing that doesn't make your skin break out.

Oh, he fucking didn't.

Your fist connects with his door maybe a bit harder than necessary. There's a loud thud from inside, followed by what sounds like someone falling off a bed, then a muffled "shit” before footsteps approach.

The door swings open and—oh.

Oh no.

He's shirtless, because of course he is. Hair a disaster, eyes heavy with sleep, that stupid silver ring catching the light as he runs a hand down his face. There's a pillow crease on his cheek and he looks... soft. Which is absolutely not what you need right now when you're trying to be angry.

"What," he growls, voice rough with sleep, "is your problem?"

Right. Anger. Focus on that.

"My problem?" You gesture vaguely at the air between you. "My problem is you letting random hookups use my shit!"

His brow furrows, like he's trying to process your words through a fog of interrupted sleep. Then his expression does this complicated thing—confusion to understanding to something else you can't quite read.

He presses his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Phoenix, I didn't." When he looks at you again, he seems more awake. "I told her your stuff was off limits."

"Then why does it smell like—"

He brushes past you, heading toward the bathroom, and you absolutely do not notice how warm he is when he passes. Or how he still smells like rain under the vanilla.

"Are you seriously walking away while I'm—"

He stops so suddenly you almost run into him. Turns. Points at the coffee table.

"It's your candle."

You follow his finger and... oh.

There's one of your vanilla candles burning quietly on the table, nearly at its end. Which means it's been lit for...

He groans, running a hand down his face again. "You said to open the windows, and I just..." He waves vaguely at the candle. "Whatever."

"You..." The words aren't quite computing. "You lit my candle?"

"You told me to air out the apartment."

"So you used my candle to get cozy with some random—"

"For fuck's sake, Phoenix." He looks like he's regretting every life choice that led him here. "I lit it because you like these stupid vanilla things, okay? Thought it'd make the place smell nice when you got back."

Oh.

Something warm and uncomfortable squirms in your chest. Because that's... that's actually kind of...

"Well." You cross your arms, refusing to acknowledge the weird feeling. "Maybe ask next time before using my stuff."

"Maybe don't ghost me for two hours when I asked for forty minutes."

"I was studying!"

"With your phone on silent?"

"Some of us have actual academic responsibilities, Rogue."

His mouth twitches. "Some of us have other responsibilities."

"Yeah, bet ‘pussy eating’ looks great on a résumé.”

“Didn’t eat her pussy. Just fucked it.”

You grimace. “TMI.”

He shrugs. “You brought it up.”

“You were the one bragging about responsibilities like it’s a noble calling.”

“Hey, takes dedication. Skill. Stamina.” A smirk. “Not my fault you’re fixated on it.”

Fixated—

“Right. Just like I’m fixated on your four-hour recovery nap.”

“Wasn’t napping the whole time.”

“Gross.”

“You asked.”

“I literally didn’t.”

He's fighting a smile now, you can tell. Which is annoying because you're trying to be mad about your candle. Or your body wash. Or... something.

"Whatever." You turn toward your room, because this conversation needs to end before you do something stupid like thank him for thinking about the smell. "Just ask next time."

"Before lighting your pretentious vanilla candles?"

"They're not pretentious."

"They're thirty dollars each."

"How do you know how much they—" You spin back around. "Have you been looking up my candles?"

"No."

"Oh my god, you totally have."

"I was curious why they cost so much when they all smell the same!"

"They do not all smell the same, you absolute heathen."

He raises an eyebrow. "French Vanilla and Vanilla Bean are literally the same thing."

"I'm not having this conversation with someone who probably thinks Old Spice is a personality trait."

"At least I don't need a PhD to buy soap."

"No, you just need—" You stop, narrowing your eyes. "Wait. How do you know what's in my shower?"

"You know what?" He stretches, and you absolutely do not track the movement with your eyes. "All this talk about vanilla is making me crave coffee. Specifically..." He grins, slow and deliberate. "Those vanilla capsules you hide in the back of the cabinet."

"Don't you dare—"

"The ones behind the protein powder?"

"Those are mine." You follow him as he saunters toward the kitchen, still annoyingly shirtless. "I specifically said they weren't for you."

"Come on, Phoenix." He's already moving toward the kitchen, all loose limbs and bare chest like putting on a shirt is beneath him. "Let me show you how to actually make coffee. Teach you some culture. Some technique."

You swat at him as he passes. "I know how to use a coffee maker."

"Sure you do." His laugh is rough with sleep, and you hate that you notice. "That's why you murdered a perfectly good espresso shot this morning."

"I did not—"

"The beans were crying, Phoenix. I heard them."

But you're already following him to the kitchen because apparently you hate yourself.

He's wearing those stupid gray sweatpants that hang just low enough to be illegal in at least three states, and his hair is still a disaster from sleep, curling at the nape of his neck.

"First rule," he says, running his hands over the coffee maker like it's something precious, "is respecting the machine."

"It's a coffee maker, not royalty."

"See? No respect." His fingers dance over the settings with practiced ease. "That's why your coffee tastes like sad bean water."

You lean against the counter, watching as he measures grounds with ridiculous precision.

"My coffee tastes fine."

"Your coffee tastes like betrayal and broken dreams." He adjusts the grind size, movements quick and sure. "You probably think instant coffee is acceptable."

"Only when I'm feeling particularly spiteful."

His horrified gasp is so dramatic it actually makes you laugh. "You're a monster."

"Guilty."

He shakes his head, tamping down the grounds with absolutely unnecessary focus. The muscles in his forearms flex with the movement, and you definitely don't notice. Just like you don't notice how his hands look wrapping around the portafilter, or how his ring catches the kitchen light when he locks it into place.

"Watch," he says, flipping switches with the confidence of someone who definitely spent too much time watching barista tutorials on YouTube. "This is where the magic happens."

"It's coffee, not alchemy."

"Shh. You're ruining the moment."

The machine hums to life, and okay—maybe you can kind of see why he's so precious about it. There's something almost hypnotic about the way the espresso streams out, dark and perfect.

"See how it's not running too fast?" He's fully in teacher mode now, gesturing at the flow. "That's what you want. Nice and steady. Not that waterfall disaster you created this morning."

"Are you done being pretentious yet?"

"Never." He grabs your vanilla capsules—the ones you specifically told him not to touch—and starts steaming milk. "But I'll make it worth your while."

"By stealing my coffee?"

"By elevating your coffee." The milk pitcher moves in his hand like it's an extension of his arm. "You'll never want that chain store stuff again."

"Bold of you to assume I want anything you make."

His smile is all trouble. "Liar."

And okay, maybe he has a point. Because the drink he slides across the counter a few minutes later looks... kind of perfect. The foam is glossy and smooth, and the vanilla smell hits just right.

"Well?" He raises an eyebrow, waiting.

You take a sip and—fuck.

Fuck.

"It's..."

No. You refuse to give him the satisfaction.

But he's already grinning, the bastard. "Say it."

"Absolutely not."

"Come on, Phoenix." He leans forward, elbows on the counter. "Admit it. I made your vanilla whatever-the-fuck better than you ever could."

"I will literally die first."

"That good, huh?"

You flip him off, taking another sip instead of answering. But then he's there, right there, and when did he get so close? His fingers brush yours as he takes the mug, gentle but deliberate, and your throat goes dry.

He holds your gaze, something dark and playful dancing in his eyes. Doesn't ask permission with words—just tilts his head slightly, the question clear in the quirk of his mouth. And you should say something. Should stop him. Should—

The mug touches his lips. Your lips were just there. Three seconds ago, your mouth was exactly where his is now, and that shouldn't make your stomach clench but it does.

His eyes are too much. Too dark, too intense, too fucking knowing as he takes a slow sip. Have they always been this brown? This smoky? Like whiskey in low light, like trouble wrapped in honey.

The kind of eyes that should come with a warning label: Danger. Side effects may include stupid decisions and ruined underwear.

His tongue darts out, catching a stray drop on his lower lip. Slow. Deliberate. The silver ring on his hand catches the light as he lowers the mug, and his voice drops to something husky.

"Delicious."

Nope. Absolutely not.

You snatch the mug back, ignoring how your fingers tingle where they brush his. "Make your own, you coffee nerd."

Retreat. Strategic retreat to the couch is definitely the smart play here. Because your brain is currently short-circuiting, trying to process how one word—one stupid, fucking word—in that voice can make your thighs press together.

His laugh follows you, low and knowing. The sound wraps around you like smoke, like the way he smelled that thunderstorm night, like—

Griffin chooses that exact moment to slink into the living room, green eyes judging you both as he hops onto the windowsill. He stretches, impossibly long, before curling into a perfect orange circle, pointedly turning his back to you both.

At least someone in this apartment has standards.

Focus. You're focusing.

But then you hear him moving behind you. The quiet rhythm of his breathing, the soft appreciative hums as he works the coffee maker. The whisper of fabric as his sweatpants shift with his movements. Each sound feels magnified, like your brain has decided to process everything in HD surround sound.

Don't look back. Don't do it. Don't—

Fuck.

You glance over your shoulder and immediately regret every decision that led to this moment. Because his back is a work of art, all broad shoulders and defined muscle, and it's not fair. It's not fucking fair that even from behind he's attractive enough to make your mouth water. The way his shoulder blades move as he works the machine, the dip of his spine disappearing into those low-hanging sweats, the unruly hairs curling at his nape...

Snap your head forward. Drink your coffee. Stop being a horny disaster for five consecutive minutes.

But you can still hear him. Still feel his presence behind you like a looming cloud. Still taste the ghost of his lips where they touched the same spot yours did on the mug.

This is fine. Everything is fine. You're just tired and touch-starved and maybe a little worked up from your stupid assignments—

"Want another taste, Phoenix?"

His voice is closer now, right behind you, and you absolutely do not shiver. "Didn't anyone teach you to drink your own coffee?"

"Didn't anyone teach you that stealing tastes better?"

You refuse to turn around. Refuse to acknowledge how his words squeeze your chest. "You're impossible."

"You like impossible."

And that's... that's not something you're equipped to handle right now. Not with him standing there all sleep-warm and shirtless, voice rough like gravel, smelling like rain and coffee and sin.

"I like peace and quiet," you lie, taking another sip of your rapidly cooling drink.

His laugh is soft, dangerous. "Liar."

The couch dips as he drops down next to you, thigh pressed against yours like he owns the space. Like personal boundaries are just suggestions. He has a mug in hand now, and his coffee smells kind of amazing and you hate him for it.

You shift away, but his hand lands on your thigh—warm, heavy, there. His fingers span the width of it easily, and your brain helpfully supplies memories of those same fingers in other contexts.

It doesn’t escape your notice, how his eyes linger on where your shorts have ridden up your thighs from your hours in the library.

"No," you manage, swatting his thigh with yours.

"No what?" His voice is still rough from sleep, and it's doing things to you. Unfair things.

"No manspreading next to me." You try to sound annoyed instead of affected. "Keep your sweaty balls to yourself."

He squeezes your thigh, just once. Just enough to make you want to throw the mug at him. Or yourself. "My balls aren't sweaty."

"Bet they are.”

"Want to check?"

"You're actually the worst." But you don't move his hand. Why aren't you moving his hand?

"That's not what you said last time."

And fuck him for bringing up last time. Fuck him for smelling like rain and coffee and sleep-warm skin. Fuck him for the way his thumb is drawing absent circles on your thigh, like he's not even aware he's doing it.

"Lapse in judgment."

His laugh rumbles through you, too close, too much. "Which time?"

"Pick one."

"I'd rather pick you up."

You turn to tell him exactly where he can shove that line, but it's a mistake. Because he's right there, all heavy-lidded eyes and sleep-soft mouth, and your brain fizzles. His hair is still a mess, curling at his temples, and you want to grab it. Want to find out if it's as soft as it looks. Want to—

"You're staring, Phoenix."

"Untrue."

His fingers flex on your thigh. "Big word for someone who can't stop looking at my mouth."

"I'm not—" But you are. You absolutely are. "Shut up."

"Make me."

Always those two damn words. Always saying ‘make me’, like he knows how it riles you up. Like he likes how it riles you up. His eyes are dark, dangerous, and you can feel his pulse through his fingers on your thigh. Or maybe that's your pulse. Everything feels too hot, too close, too—

"Your coffee's getting cold," you manage, voice embarrassingly breathy.

His smile is slow, knowing. "Yeah?”

His eyes drop to your shorts—the ones you've been wearing all day, the ones that rode up your thighs during your study session. And okay, maybe they're a little too short. Maybe you felt Jimin's concerned glance when you stretched in the library. But it's not your fault the AC in your car is temperamental at best.

"These can't be comfortable after sitting in the library all day," he murmurs, fingers playing with the hem. “Could help you out of them."

"Thought you were tired from your afternoon activities."

"Second wind." His thumb traces the seam where it cuts into your thigh. "Come here."

You raise an eyebrow, ignoring how your body wants to lean into his touch. "I am here."

"No," and his voice drops lower, rougher. "Here." He pats his lap, and the casual confidence of it irritating. Hot. Irritatingly hot. "Unless you're scared."

"Of what? Your ego?"

"Of how bad you want it." His eyes flick to your chest, where your shirt dips just low enough to be interesting. "Been thinking about these shorts all day. Since you drove me to class."

"Didn't realize my driving skills were such a turn on."

"Your driving skills are terrible." His hand slides higher, testing. "But watching you grip the steering wheel..."

You swallow. "That's kind of pathetic."

"Yeah?" His fingers find the spot where your shorts meet skin. "Then why are you breathing so hard?"

"Because you're annoying me."

He laughs, low and dangerous. "Hop on, Phoenix. Let me annoy you properly."

"That's your big move? 'Hop on'?"

“As long as it gets you on top of me...” He smiles now, actually smiles. “I’d say it’s working.”

And fuck him for being right. Fuck him for the way his eyes are all pupil now, for how his skin is still warm, for how he smells like everything you want to taste.

"You're awful," you breathe, but you're already shifting closer.

"Show me how awful."

His fingers hook through your belt loop and suddenly you're being yanked forward with zero warning. The squeak that leaves your mouth is embarrassing.

"Rude," you swat at him, but he catches your wrist easily. His hand is so warm around your cold skin.

"C'mere," he breathes, and before you can process it, you're straddling him.

His hands slide down to grab your ass, fingers digging into the flesh and pulling you closer until you fall forward, catching yourself with hands on either side of his head.

He hums, the sound vibrating through you where you're pressed against him. And—yeah. Well. That's definitely not his phone in his sweats.

"Ride me?" The way he says it is almost lazy, but his eyes are dark, hungry. That half-lidded look that means tarnation.

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, Phoenix." His fingers flex on your ass, making you rock against him. "Don't be mean."

You raise an eyebrow, trying to ignore how good he feels under you. "Mean?"

"Been hard since I saw you in these fucking shorts this morning." He bites his lip, looking up at you through his lashes. "Just thinking about your thighs spread over my lap like this..."

"That sounds like a you problem."

His laugh is breathless, a little wild. "I’ll make it an us problem."

"Thought you were tired from earlier."

"Different kind of tired." His hands guide you into a slow grind against him. "This is more... inspiration."

"You're actually insane."

"Yeah?" He rocks up, making you gasp. "Feeling pretty sane right now. Feeling like I really want you to—fuck—"

You'd rolled your hips, just to shut him up. Just to wipe that cocky smirk off his face. But now he's looking at you like you’re his favorite dessert, and his hands are everywhere, and—

"That's it," he breathes, voice gone raspy. "Just like that, come on..."

He guides your hips into another roll, watching you with that hungry, hazy look. His thumbs dig into your hipbones, controlling the pressure, the pace.

"Been thinking about this," he breathes, voice rough. "How you'd look bouncing on my cock. How your tits would—fuck—" You grind down harder, feeling him twitch against you. "Haven't even gotten to see them properly yet."

"Poor you," but your voice shakes when his hands slide up under your shirt, spanning your ribs.

"Poor me," he agrees, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. "All I got was that quick fuck against the window. Then you cumming on my tongue." His eyes are dark, pupils blown. "But this? Getting to watch you ride me? See these bounce while you—"

"You talk too much." You're trying for annoyed but it comes out breathy.

"Make me shut up then." His hips snap up. "Come on, Phoenix. Show me how well you can take it, yeah?"

"That's your big plan? Get me all worked up in the living room?"

“Getting worked up anywhere you’ll let me.” His fingers find your nipples through your bra, rolling them until you arch. “Been waiting to get you like this. Spread out on top of me, swallowing me deep in this greedy pussy…”

You let out a breathy laugh, grinding down just to spite him. “Yeah?” Your voice is pure teasing, but the heat is real. “She didn’t wring you out completely?”

His grip tightens on your waist, nails pressing in just enough to make you feel it. “Seems like she didn’t.”

You hum, dragging your hips forward again, slow and deliberate. “Mm. That’s a shame.”

“Yeah?” His voice dips, rough and taunting, but his hands—his fucking hands—are already shoving your shirt up, fingers tracing up your spine before yanking your bra down just enough to expose you. His thumb drags over one nipple, his breath warm against your throat. “You wanna fix that?”

You pretend to consider, rolling your hips again, dragging your pussy right over the thick ridge of him. Fuck. He’s not even inside you, and it’s already so good.

“I don’t know,” you murmur. “Wouldn’t want to overwork you.”

His laugh is sharp, incredulous. “Nix.” His voice is wrecked—the kind of hoarse, hungry sound that goes straight to your cunt. “You feel what you’re doing to me?” He thrusts up, slow but deep, and you suck in a breath. “Think I’m fucking tired?”

And yeah, okay. He’s still hard as fucking steel beneath you. Still needy. Still looking at you like he’s seconds from losing what little patience he has left.

“It’s these fucking shorts,” he mutters, grabbing a handful of your ass like he wants to leave bruises. “Oh my god, this fucking ass.”

You hold back a laugh, rolling your hips again, enjoying the way his breath stutters. “That easy, huh?”

His hands tighten on you. “You know what you do to me.” His mouth finds your throat, teeth scraping just enough to make you quiver. “S’why you wore these, right?”

You don’t answer, just reach between you to shove down his sweatpants, dragging them low enough to free his cock. And—fuck. He’s so hard it’s almost obscene, thick and flushed and already leaking.

“Jesus,” you mutter, running a teasing finger up his shaft, watching his stomach tense. “Didn’t even get a full reset, did you?”

His jaw flexes. “No.” A muscle in his cheek jumps as he watches you wrap your hand around him. “The fuck do you expect when you walk around in these little fucking—” His breath hitches when you thumb over the head, smearing the wetness there. “Shit—shorts. The second I saw you, I knew—”

“You knew what?” You press the question into his skin, lips just beneath his jaw, hand still working him slow.

His grip on your ass tightens, grounding, punishing. “Knew I was gonna end up inside you tonight.”

And fuck. That sends a fresh wave of heat through you, has your thighs squeezing around him. Because yeah, okay, maybe you had the same thought the second you walked in and saw him standing there in nothing but those damn sweatpants.

But there’s still one thing gnawing at you. One thing that makes your brain fight for a fraction of control through the heat.

“Did you use condoms?”

His head snaps up, brow furrowing like you just asked if water is wet. “Of course I did. Who the fuck do you think I am?”

You exhale, relief flooding through you faster than the heat pooling low in your stomach.

“Okay, fuck. Okay.” You swallow. “Where are they?”

And Jungkook—fucking Jungkook—instead of answering, he grabs your tits. Both hands, rough and impatient, unclasping you bra like it personally offended him.

“Jesus—wait—” You barely manage to lift your arms before he’s yanking it over your head, flinging it somewhere behind him.

“You on the pill?” he murmurs, barely pausing his focus on your tits.

“No.” You don’t even hesitate.

And to his credit, he doesn’t either. “Okay. Condoms it is.”

Respectful. A menace, but respectful.

You barely have time to process that before his fingers are pressing into the small of your back, guiding you forward, making you press flush against him as he leans toward the coffee table.

And you—because apparently you’re both equally insane—just let him.

His other hand reaches forward, jerking open the small drawer in the coffee table, fishing out a foil packet with practiced ease.

“You keep condoms in the living room?”

Jungkook doesn’t even blink. “Yeah. Just in case.”

“In case?” Your eyebrows shoot up. “Don’t you fuck in your room like normal people?”

“Yeah?” He grabs the foil packet, tossing it onto the couch beside him before his hands are right back on your waist, thumbs sliding under the waistband of your shorts. “But, y’know… just in case you wanted it.”

Your brain short-circuits for a second. “Me?”

“You, Phoenix.” He squeezes your hips like he’s grounding himself, like he has to touch you while he says it. “I usually fuck in my room. But you and me—we already did it against the window, so I figured…” He shrugs, casual as ever. “Might as well be prepared.”

“I—” You blink, processing, trying to form actual thoughts. “That’s crazy.”

He shrugs, so fucking nonchalant it’s unfair. “Is it?”

“Yes.”

“Think about it.” His mouth curls, eyes flicking from your mouth to your bare chest and back again. “Imagine I had to stop and go all the way to my room right now.” He pauses, letting the implication settle. “Wouldn’t that just kill the mood?”

And okay. You do snort at that.

Because this is ridiculous.

Because this is actually thoughtful.

Because he’s still hard as a rock under you, talking about condom logistics while casually groping your ass, like he’s planning for a fire drill and not fucking you senseless on the couch.

“No, like. You’re a complete nut case,” you murmur, shaking your head.

“Quick access,” he corrects, and then—fuck.

His mouth is on your tits again.

No hesitation, no teasing buildup, just his tongue dragging over one nipple, warm and slick before closing his lips around it.

Your breath catches, fingers twitching where they brace on his shoulders. “Jesus—”

He hums against your skin, like this is just an extension of the conversation. Like he can talk about fucking you and have his tongue on your tits in the same breath.

And then, because he’s Jungkook and apparently completely fucking obsessed with your chest, he moves to the other one, sucking deep and slow, like he’s savoring it.

“Can’t help it,” he mutters against you, voice rough. “Tits too fucking perfect.”

Which—okay. You shouldn’t preen at that, but his mouth is so fucking warm, and his hands are so fucking big—

Your nails dig into his shoulders, and his breath stutters.

And then he’s leaning back just enough to look up at you, lips slick, pupils blown. “You gonna let me fuck you cowgirl now, or you wanna keep pretending we’re still talking?”

You poke at his dick playfully, watching with satisfaction as it twitches immediately.

His breath stutters, eyes flicking up to yours, but he doesn’t say a word. Just watches—completely absorbed—as you pluck the condom from the side and roll it down over him, slow and deliberate.

His jaw flexes, lips parting slightly, and when you glance up, you catch it—his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, hard enough to leave a mark.

“Fuck,” he mutters, voice all low and wrecked.

You smirk, dragging your fingers back up his shaft just because you can, because you like making him twitch, like how he watches you like he’s seconds from losing his mind.

His hands are already on your thighs when you lift up, finally removing those tiny ass shorts—but when your fingers hook into your panties, he stops you.

“Keep them.”

You blink, brows furrowing. “What?”

“Fuck, I don’t know.” His hands skim up, palms rough against your bare skin. “They’re red and lacy and fucking beautiful—” His voice breaks off into a sharp exhale as he shifts under you, cock nudging against the damp lace between your legs. “Just shove them to the side and let me fuck you like this.”

Heat licks down your spine, and fuck, maybe it is kind of hot—his voice raw, gaze locked where you’re already so wet for him.

“Yeah?” You drag the fabric aside, slow and teasing, letting him see what he’s about to have. “You want me to ride you like this?”

“Nix.” His voice is all smoke and gravel. “Fucking sit on it.”

Your fingers tighten on his shoulders.

And then, in one swift motion, you sink down onto him.

“Fuck—”

Jungkook shudders, breath breaking apart as he bottoms out inside you, hands clamping down on your hips so hard it’s murderous. His fingers dig deep into your skin, like he’s fighting the urge to slam you down harder, deeper, but he doesn’t—he just grips, holds, feels.

And fucking watches.

Because this—this—is his favorite.

The way you stretch around him, the way he can see it, can watch himself disappear inside you from this angle. The lace of your panties bunched to the side, the way your slick coats his cock, the slow, obscene drag as he throbs inside you.

His jaw clenches, his head falling back, but his eyes stay locked on where your bodies meet. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

You suck in a breath, thighs trembling slightly, trying to adjust to the stretch, the pressure, the way he fills you completely. You brace your hands on his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle shift beneath your palms as he groans deep in his throat.

“You feel that, Nix?” His voice is rough, wrecked. “Feel how deep you’re taking me?”

You bite your lip, trying not to squirm at the way that sounds coming from him, the way his cock pulses inside you like he can feel every little squeeze.

His grip on your hips flexes. “Come on, let me hear you.”

You swallow hard, already feeling too fucking warm. “I—”

“I what?” His hands slide down, palms rough and greedy as they find your ass, grabbing handfuls, spreading you just to push inside you deeper. “Fuck, Phoenix, you feel so fucking good.”

Your thighs twitch, heat licking up your spine, and okay—okay, maybe that makes something inside you tighten. The way he wants you to feel it. The way he sounds like he’s barely holding on.

“Look at you. Sitting so fucking pretty on my cock like this.”

Your breath stutters.

“Fuck—” His fingers flex again, grip punishing, possessive. “Knew you’d look good like this. In this position. Been dreaming ‘bout it.”

You exhale shakily, pressing your palms harder against his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath your hands.

“Yeah?” The word slips out before you can stop it, quiet, breathless, barely more than an exhale.

And then, even as much as you convince yourself you hate dirty talk—his dirty talk—how you tell yourself it’s cringe… You find yourself engaging. You find yourself slipping.

“You wanted me in this position, Ro? Riding you?”

And Jungkook? He fucking relishes on it.

“Yeah,” he rasps, dark eyes flicking up to yours, mouth curling slow, dirty. “Getting bold on me, Phee?”

Heat rushes up your throat, your pulse pounding, but you don’t look away. You can’t—not with the way he’s looking at you, not with how deep he is inside you.

“God,” he groans, hands gripping your ass again, spreading you wider just to watch himself sink into you even more. “You should see how you look right now.”

His voice is wrecked—half-growl, half-moan—and you have to fight the way your thighs want to squeeze around him, hold him there.

But he notices.

And grins.

“Fucking knew it,” he mutters, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “You like hearing it, don’t you?”

You suck in a sharp breath, fingers twitching on his chest. “Shut up.”

“Nah.” He tilts his head, thumbs digging into your skin, grounding, teasing. “Think I finally got you to like it.”

And fuck—fuck—you can’t even argue, because his cock twitches inside you and your whole body reacts, a shiver running up your spine.

His smirk widens. “See?”

You exhale sharply. “Rogue.”

“Phoenix.” His hands tighten again, his voice a slow, taunting drawl. “C’mon, yeah? Ride me.”

Your thighs flex as you lift yourself up, the slow drag of him leaving you just enough to make you whimper, then you sink back down, faster this time, harder.

Jungkook’s jaw goes slack, hands gripping your ass like he’s barely holding himself together. “Christ—”

But you don’t stop. You can’t stop.

You move again, rising and dropping, setting a pace that has his breath coming out in ragged exhales, his nails biting into your skin. Every inch of him stretches you open, fills you up, makes your stomach coil tighter and tighter.

And then—

His right hand moves.

Fingers slipping lower, rough against your skin, then lower, lower—

Until he’s spreading you.

His fingers part your folds, stretching you open wider just so he can watch himself disappear inside you.

“For fuck’s sake Ro—”

“Shit,” he exhales, low and wrecked, eyes locked on where his cock is sliding in and out of you, the obscene wetness coating both of you. “Look at that. Fucking dripping for me, Phoenix. Can’t help it.”

Your thighs shake, breath shuddering, and you want to tell him to shut the fuck up—but you can’t, because you may not see it, but you feel it. The way your body takes him, how slick and messy it is, how deep he’s buried every time you drop back down.

It’s filthy. He’s filthy.

“You’re so nasty,” you gasp, nails digging into his chest for balance.

He laughs, dark and smug. “And you fucking love it.”

Before you can snap back, he finally—finally—looks up at you.

And his breath stutters.

Because, of course, in this position, your tits are bouncing.

His pupils blow wide, throat working through a hard swallow, and then—his hands fly up immediately.

Grabbing. Palming. Squeezing.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice breaking apart, gaze flicking between your tits and your face like he doesn’t know where to look first. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

His grip on your waist tightens, nails digging in, and then—his head falls back. His chest rises and falls beneath your hands, breath coming in sharp, desperate pants.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he gasps, voice wrecked, low and so needy you almost mewl, because you’ve never heard him like that. “Gonna cum so fucking bad—”

Your rhythm stutters. “Don’t you dare finish before me.”

“Fucking—” He grunts, muscles tensing beneath you as his hands clamp down harder, like he’s fighting it, trying to hold on, but— “Oh my fucking god, Phoenix—”

You can feel him struggling—his thighs trembling beneath you, abs flexing tight, his cock twitching inside you, buried so deep.

“How the fffffuck—” his breath shudders, “do you expect me—Jesus Christ—to hold b-back when your tits—god—”

His hands are everywhere—palming, grabbing, fucking worshiping your chest like he’s possessed—and then his mouth is there again, latching onto your right tit, tongue flicking over your nipple, sucking deep and wet.

“Shit,” you whimper, back arching.

“Fuck—fuck—”

He suddenly leans back, dragging you down hard onto his cock as he thrusts up to meet you, hips snapping with short, frantic rolls.

Your breath shatters, thighs burning, your whole body jolting with every desperate slam of his hips.

And his eyes.

Jesus.

His eyes are locked on you, wide and hungry, flicking between your parted lips and your chest.

And then—

“Grab ‘em,” he pants, voice rough, ruined. “Fuck—grab those titties for me, Phee.”

Your stomach flips.

“Grab’em while you ride me—” His breath catches, his abs flexing. “Fucking—God, I need to see it—”

Heat floods your spine, your pulse pounding as you do what he says—palms sliding up, gripping the soft weight of your tits, squeezing just enough to lift, to move, to give him exactly what he wants.

And his reaction—

“Jesus fucking—” His head falls back hard against the couch before snapping back up, completely fucking wrecked. “Oh my god—look at them—look at you—fuck, fuck—”

His fingers dig into your hips, forcing you down harder, thighs flexing beneath you as he thrusts up, trying to get deeper, trying to burn this into his brain.

“Oh god, oh god, Phoenix— I swear to fucking God—” His hands slide down, gripping your ass. “Fucking dripping— so messy for me—”

His voice breaks on a groan, hips slamming up, chasing it, his body seizing up as he loses it.

“Shit—shit—I’m—oh my god—fuck—I’m cumming—”

And then—he snaps.

His grip on your waist locks, his whole body tensing beneath you, and his head tips back, mouth falling open as he moans—a deep, raw sound from the bottom of his fucking chest.

He creams inside the condom, hips jerking up in short, shallow thrusts, pulsing thick and hot as he spills into it.

His hands shake as they guide your hips down, grinding you onto him, milking every last drop, needing to feel every second of it.

And you—

You’re about to sigh, about to roll your eyes, because seriously? He just came? You haven’t even—

But before the frustration can even fully settle, he moves.

One second, he’s slumped against the couch, breathless, spent.

The next—he’s flipping you onto your back.

Your gasp barely leaves your lips before his hands are on your thighs, gripping, spreading you open like it’s his fucking right, pushing your knees toward your chest.

And then—no hesitation.

No questions asked, no smug teasing, no half-assed effort—just his fingers shoving your panties back to the side, replacing his cock with two thick fingers, burying them inside you like he already fucking knows you can taste it.

Your breath shatters. “Jesus—”

“Shh,” he murmurs, focused, dark eyes locked on your pussy as his fingers curl, stretching you open, pressing deep. “Not leaving you hanging.”

And fuck—fuck—his thumb.

Right there, dragging over your clit, pressing just right with slow, deliberate circles.

Your thighs twitch, your hands clenching in the couch cushions as your body jolts from the sudden shock of pleasure. “Oh—fuck—”

“That’s it,” he groans, gaze flicking up to watch your face, your wrecked fucking expression as he fingers you open. “Gimme that pretty little shake—know you’re close.”

You barely process your own whimper before he’s pressing in harder, thrusting his fingers faster, his thumb working you like he owns your orgasm.

“You think I’d leave you like that?” His voice is low, hushed, wrecked, pressing filthy into the space between you. “Think I’d fucking cum and not make you lose your mind, too?”

“Ro—”

“Nah, Phoenix.” His fingers drive into you, slick and obscene, thumb relentless. “You’re gonna cum all over my hand—” he leans in, breath warm against your throat, “and I’m gonna watch every fucking second of it.”

His fingers pump into you, wet and filthy, every slick thrust echoing between you. And god, the sounds are just so fucking obscene it makes you want to die a little.

“Come on, give it to me, Phee,” Jungkook rasps.

You can barely breathe. His thumb keeps dragging over your clit in these slow, devastating circles, the pressure just right, and your whole body is trembling, your thighs twitching where he holds them open.

“Listen to that,” he groans, gaze flicking down, mesmerized. “So fucking wet for me. Making a mess all over my hand.”

And then his mouth is on you again.

He latches onto your tit, sucking deep, tongue flicking over your nipple before pulling off just to groan against your skin.

“God, your vanilla shit Phoenix. Makes you taste so good. Could suck on these all fucking day—”

“Jungkook—”

“Yeah? You gonna cum?”

Your back arches, hands flying to grip his arms because—fuck—fuck. The pressure is too much, his fingers so deep, his mouth so hot, and you’re right there—right fucking there—

“That’s it,” he groans, hand drenched, your walls pulsing around his fingers. “Come on, give it to me.”

And then—

It hits.

Pleasure rips through you, fast and all-consuming.

And Jungkook—fucking Jungkook—just groans, watching you fall apart.

“Mm, yeah that’s it,” he mutters, fixated on the way you shake, the way your pussy flutters around his fingers, soaking his palm. “So fucking good, huh?”

His name slips out in a wrecked, shattered moan, and he loves it, enjoying every sound, drinking in every twitch and tremble.

He finally slows his movements as you shudder through the aftershocks, his fingers still deep, thumb pressing lazy circles to wring out every last second of it.

“Shit,” he murmurs, voice a little breathless, and when you manage to blink down at him, he’s staring at his own hand—glistening, messy, coated in you.

His throat works.

And then—his eyes flick back to yours.

And he fucking grins.

Jungkook collapses on top of you.

Full weight. No warning. Just dead fucking weight pressing you into the couch, knocking the air from your lungs.

“Oh my—get off!” You yelp, struggling beneath him, but he doesn’t budge.

“Nnngghh,” he groans into your neck, voice muffled, completely ignoring you. “Shut the fuck up and let me rest for five minutes.”

You blink up at the ceiling, absolutely fucking done. “Weren’t you sleeping, like, thirty minutes ago?”

“Your point?” His breath is warm against your skin, his body solid and heavy, still way too fucking hot from everything that just happened.

“My point,” you grumble, wiggling under him, “is that you’ve done literally nothing today except nut and nap, so why are you tired?”

“Because,” he mutters, arms tightening around your waist, “I’m a growing boy.”

You snort, smacking his bare back. “You’re a menace.”

He just hums, pressing his face into your neck like he’s about to fall asleep right there, and for a second, you let it happen—just breathing, the two of you still wrecked, bodies cooling down, silence stretching.

But then—

“Oh, shit—”

Jungkook jumps, suddenly wide awake, jolting upright so fast he nearly knocks you off the couch.

You blink up at him, still catching your breath. “What the fuck is wrong with you—”

“Wait—” He leans over you, hands on either side of your head, eyes huge and excited. “Do you have any toys?”

You stare at him. “What?”

“Toys,” he repeats, fully invested now. “Sex toys, Nix. I didn’t even think about it, but—fuck—I could’ve made you finish with one.”

You blink again, brain scrambling to catch up. “No?”

His brows furrow. “Why not?”

“Why would I—” You sit up slightly, pushing at his chest. “Do I look like I came here with a full-ass sex kit?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, genuinely baffled, “don’t you girls have dildos and shit?”

“Oh my fucking—” You shove his shoulder. “Do you really think when I was packing my shit to move in, I was like, ‘mmm, yeah, definitely need to bring my dildo’?”

His eyes narrow. “So you had one?”

“No—”

“So you’ve never had one?”

“No, Ro, my parents would’ve killed me.”

He pauses, frowning like he’s actually considering that for a second. Then, with absolutely zero hesitation—

“Okay, then we’re going toy shopping.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, no, fuck that.” He waves a hand, like this is a done deal, like you don’t even get a say. “You’re getting something. I refuse to believe you’ve gone your whole life without at least a vibrator. That’s a crime.”

“A crime?”

“Yes.” His face is serious, like this is a personal offense to him. “You deserve to cum even when I’m not here.”

“I don’t need you to cum.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

“Oh my fucking—” You drop your head back against the couch, groaning. “You’re so stupid.”

“I’m being a good friend.” He grins, smug as hell. “And an amazing fuck buddy.”

“We are not friends.”

He blinks. “What?”

“We’re not friends.” You cross your arms, looking him dead in the eye. “Fuck buddies. No friends.”

Jungkook gasps, pressing a hand to his chest like you just deeply wounded him. “That hurts.”

“You’ll live.”

“Aren’t we, like, friends with benefits or something?”

“No.” You shake your head. “Fuck buddies. No friends. Just the benefits.”

“That’s the stupidest logic I’ve ever heard.”

“Coming from Mr. Stupid himself? Woah.”

“Pft. Right.” He stretches, cracking his neck, still grinning like an idiot. “Then we’re going this weekend.”

“To what?”

“Buy you a vibrator.”

“Fuck you.”

“Bet.”

You swat at him, grin still on his face and all.

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@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @jimineepaboya @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @annyeongbitch7 @jkrailme @rpwprpwprpwprw @mar-lo-pap

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 20 hours ago

Note

⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️

96 for Throuple! ---

“Say hi to your daddy, Jane,” Buck prompts her.

“No,” she says, pouting.

“Aw, come on, kid,” Buck begs.

“It’s fine,” Eddie says. “She doesn’t get why I was gone.”

Christopher didn’t like him much at this age, either. Not that this one was his fault.

“She was looking for you all the time,” Buck frowns. “Jane, sweetie-”

“Buck, really. It’s fine.”

He doesn’t have a lot of energy, so before long, they help him get set up in bed. Buck has a whole pillow support system set up in the center of their bed so Eddie can lie in a comfortable position.

“I went out and bought some firmer pillows so the whole thing should stay steady,” Buck explains.

Eddie looks at the set up. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Where will you sleep?” Eddie asks. “This thing takes up the whole bed.”

“Uh, well… With Shannon,” Buck says.

And it’s not even weird. They each spend nights with Shannon. Sometimes she spends the night with both of them. Eddie shouldn’t feel weird. It’s a natural solution.

It's just that… He’d… Well, he’d almost died. And he’d almost died thinking about how his job here was done. How he was leaving everything handled. And that felt good. He’d felt at peace. He was okay with it, despite the overwhelming sadness of missing the rest of everyone’s lives.

“Eddie?” Buck asks. “Hey, what’s wrong? I can sleep here tonight. I just didn’t want to crowd you, or-or bump into you and hurt your shoulder.”

Eddie takes a deep breath.

“You’re right. That makes sense.”

Buck nods. “Okay, but what do you actually want?”

“You,” Eddie mumbles.

Buck smiles. “I’ll stay. We’ll put up a pillow barrier for your shoulder.”

“You and your pillow engineering,” Eddie mumbles.

“I just want to take care of you,” Buck says softly.

“I know,” Eddie says. “Thank you. But you already saved my life, so-”

“That doesn’t count,” Buck says sharply.

“What?” Eddie asks. “How the hell does that not count?”

“Taking care of you is for you,” Buck says. “And, sure, so was saving your life. But if I hadn’t? I would have died. If I left you in the street to die, I would have died there with you.��

Eddie’s chest hurts. And it’s not the recovering large caliber bullet wound.

“Buck…”

“No, I mean it,” Buck says. “I love you so fucking much, Eddie. I never want to lose you.”

Eddie takes another deep breath.

Maybe that’s why. Maybe that’s why he survived.

“I love you, too.”

ii.

For weeks upon weeks, Shannon watches. She watches Eddie. She waits. She waits for it to get hard again. To get bad. She knows it’s coming.

It’s just coming… Slower.

Way slower than last time.

By all accounts, Eddie is doing well. He’s committed to recovery. Buck is, like, a fucking amazing cheerleader. Last time she was injured, he was also injured and in the dumps, but if it ever happens again, she hopes she has him here to pump her up. He’s got the meds and exercise schedule down like a pro. He’s incredible. Eddie listens to him.

When he came back from Afghanistan, it felt like not only did he not listen to Shannon, he didn’t even see her. But those were different times. He’s changed. Shannon shouldn’t be so attached to that time. She shouldn’t hold him to that. But she can’t help but wonder… Is it her?

#daisies and briars writes #buddie shannon throuple fic

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sxldierselfship · 6 months ago

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⚔️🐜

Another! :3

⚔️ -

Yes! My sweetheart is one of nine mercenaries- he's extremely skilled with chemicals and making active explosives (in fact, he's pretty much made his own since as far as I can remember)! He also wields a plethora of bladed weapons and is a definitive expert swordsman 🥺😊 I love to see him in action you don't understanddd

🐜 -

Nah, I don't believe so. Maybe spiders, but then again the team's bases are full of critters so it doesn't really matter all too much.

#❤️|| him;#🕹️|| selfship reblog game;#I could go on and on for hours yapping about his skills and swordsmanship and just how smart he is #I love watching him and listening to him explain what he does #because every time I'm like 😍😍

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m00sebaby · 6 months ago

Text

just having a bit of a ramble dont mind me

#having a boyfriend who likes sports is wild and exciting to me #its been a year and its still like #oh? you want to put the tennis match on one monitor and the football game on the other while i watch baseball on my phone?#you want to wake up early to watch liverpool?#he asks me questions like about why luke weaver was so excited to get his first save on the yankees #and despite bemoaning it at first shows genuine interest in footy matches when theyre on #to the point of learning all of the players and already knowing we love darwin no matter what he does #and then to the point of agreeing to extend our trip to dublin in case liverpool made it to the europa final #and THEN to the point of asking if anyone else interesting was playing in the final after liverpool lost against atalanta #and further to the point of saying if i won a kit if he could have it #and even FURTHER to the point of sitting with me in a pub in dublin to watch the last liverpool match of the season #and then when we watch american football he explains different positions to me and like knows so much?#and same for hockey #and when he was asked to go to a hockey game in front of me all of 4 months into our relationship #he said 'i should ask liza if she wants to come because she'd be mad if she missed out on a game like that'#meanwhile the guy who asked him had his gf next to him and she was like 'can i go?' and he said 'if you want to'#like just the fact that my mans knows how stupidly important sports are to me and hes fully embraced it #and absolutely listens to me hurl absolute abuse at the television when my team lets me down #and not that i've ever vibed with the idea of subconsciously dating a guy who is like your dad #(i love my father dearly but many core facets of his personality drive me insane to no end plus i did that for many years and boy howdy. no #but the only other person to ever fully embrace and actively try to enjoy the sports i like is my dad #and its just such a loved feeling. i have never felt so so loved before.#like in a way thats not predicated on what i do or how i act its just like he loves me for me. everything else is a bonus.#i feel lighter. i feel like hes a gift. i have never experienced so much trouble in such a small amount of time while feeling so... ok??#like he isnt perfect at verbally comforting me all the time but he makes up for that by just being present and warm no matter what #i just could not be happier and feel more secure #sometimes i say 'i want to date you forever' and he hits me with '... and never get married?" and i have to fight to be vaguely normal #like oh lmao you like. you like me fr fr?? wild #anyways back to sports ignore me

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whokilledsamara · 3 months ago

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Homicipher pregnancy hc? Especially Mr. Crawling and Mr. Scarlettella pls they're my fav 😭😭 (SFW/NSFW). Ty for all the food, love youuuu.

HOMICIPHER N/SFW PREGNANCY HC

a list of pregnancy hcs for each of the homicipher boys that are ABLE to get you pregnant.

warnings || afab reader, smut, pregnancy kink, soft sex, cunnilingus, rough sex, boob sucking {breast milk}, mention of children in a NON sexual way/completely unrelated to smut

{an: YESS i have a similar request i will also post, love you too!!}

MR. CRAWLING

SFW

at first, he would have absolutely no idea what that is. a mini you? inside of you? very confusing. after a while of explaining though, he definitely will be over the moon! "Small, Us? Happy!"

his favorite activity would be laying his head on your stomach, while you play with his hair. he definitely wants to listen to the baby noises.

the poor man will have no idea what to do, but he definitely will try his best. just ask him for anything, and he will immediately find it for you.

while he usually is crawling, he makes an exception whenever you need– for instance if you are having trouble walking, he will pick you up and carry you. all that crawling builds upper muscles!

he is more territorial, and will growl at the other residents.

he doesn't want you to leave your shared room, and usually will convince you to stay there while he does what he needs to do.

he's definitely a girl dad. he would be happy either way, but a little girl would probably be easier for him to handle— calmness wise.

he doesn't remember his human years, but he always wanted to be a father.

NSFW

will constantly ask to eat you out. he doesn't need anything in return, he just wants to see you happy and enjoying yourself.

could be in between your legs for hours on end– anything for his love. he will come up every now and then, to pepper kisses on your tummy.

if you wish to have penetrative sex with him, he of course will. it will be soft and sensual as usual, and usually in the spooning position.

would never reject you. ever. no matter what it is you want from him.

is definitely the type to have a breeding kink– and knowing you are pregnant with his offspring makes him really happy.

holds his hand on your stomach while he humps into you, his large hand covering almost all of it.

his face will contort into confusion when milk floods his mouth the moment he sucks your nipple. not because its gross to him– he enjoys it actually, but its confusing because that never happened before.

MR. SCARLETELLA

SFW

honestly, the fact that you even accepted him makes him deathly obsessed with you, but you being pregnant with HIS child makes it all the more.

his body will tremble and his face will be flushed while he holds you, desperately holding on to your smaller frame as if afraid to let you go.

he will carry you if asked, but his preferred method would be teleporting you. he does it slower than normal because if he did it fast like he does without you, it would cause motion sickness.

he loves you– obviously. he constantly reminds you. but even when you sleep, he doesn't stop whispering it to you and your unborn baby.

he doesn't always watch you when you need to sleep, but once he finds out you are pregnant its a constant thing. he has to make sure his beloved is safe, along with your child.

you would think he would know he is creepy, which makes it more funny as he stands behind you glaring daggers at whoever you are talking to. almost like a guard dog.

by now, he stopped asking for your name. it might slip every now and then, but a lot less frequently.

NSFW

much like Mr. Crawling, he is usually on his knees, eating you out. whether you prefer to stand or sit, he holds your thighs open and goes to town on your lower region.

he has nice, long, slender fingers– easily reaching those spots inside of you. he will praise how good you are for him and how much he loves you.

he doesn't have a breeding kink, but he never would pull out– hence your pregnancy.

for penetrating sex, he would have you either in the air or on your back- whatever you prefer.

if he finds out you are insecure, he will pleasure you to the point your brain is numb.

he doesn't understand why you get angry, even when you explain it is just pregnancy hormones, but he does enjoy you taking your anger out on him in any way you prefer. definitely has a pain kink.

no matter how many times you tell him you are too heavy, he wants you to sit on his face. he could care less that you have added weight due to the pregnancy– if anything, it makes it better for him

MR. SILVAIR

SFW

of course he knows what pregnancy is, he is a doctor after all– but he definitely didn't think it was possible with a ghost and a human.

he is astonished, but more importantly extremely curious. he definitely will research every part of you– including the baby once it is born. in a safe way of course.

he would definitely get more touchy. usually, he is not a very touchy man other than experimenting, but once he learns of your pregnancy his touches become way more frequent. you are the parent of his child after all.

doesn't have the correct feelings on being a "dad" but would be exceptionally well at it. just subtract the human things from it and he would be wonderful.

he would be very curious on how the baby would come out. would it be half human half ghost? fully human? fully ghost? definitely something he ponders for the whole 9 months.

the type of guy to inspect your breast milk. most likely examine it very closely– finding it fascinating.

would rarely carry you, but also wouldn't be objective of it.

NSFW

as said previously, he had no idea it would even be possible to impregnate you, therefore he had no problem cumming inside. he saw no reason to pull out since you wouldn't get pregnant– or so he thought.

sex would become more frequent. some of the time because he was actually horny, but mostly due to his natural curiosity.

fingers you more frequently than going down on you, so he can watch your facial expressions as he brings you to the edge.

his position would be you sitting on his operating table while he slides into you, a simple and effective position.

will run and rub his hand on your stomach, breasts, or anywhere really.

will be extra careful with anything sex or other related. doesn't want to hurt you at all– even if that means he can't experiment.

he is slightly more possessive, even if he suppresses it. normally he isn't very controlling and allows you to do as pleased, but when you are pregnant, he finds it almost as marking.

MR. CHOPPED {w/ body}

SFW

from the bat, he is more animalistic when he gets his body. he is still how he used to be, but more aloof.

pregnancy is a wild thing for him. he never expected it– but he definitely is excited.

he cuddles with you non-stop. very much enjoys listening to your heartbeat.

funny enough, he will cut his nails for you. usually they are long and sharp, but he doesn't want to hurt you or the baby.

walks with and follows you everywhere, and is literally a guard dog.

will have his face shoved in your neck and arms around you when you talk with people, as to remind them who you belong to.

NSFW

kisses you while he ruts into you, holds you up as well.

he tries to go soft when he fucks you, but sometimes he gets too hurried. he isn't used to having a body.

will eat you out like a starving animal. all up in there for hours. his hands hold open your thighs until you are whining for him to stop.

he usually keeps you on your back, so you aren't putting weight on the baby.

he will definitely whine a lot, moaning about how happy he is to breed you, etc.

MR. HOOD

SFW

top ten girl dad. he's so cute.

doesn't express love, so that is the only negative. would and has died many times for you and your child though.

he holds you inside of his coat, keeping you close to him as you walk through the halls. will absolutely under no circumstances allow danger near you.

the residents are usually not afraid of him due to his calm and non-hostile nature, but fear slowly creeps into people at his suddenly hostile nature.

he is slightly bummed that he can't kiss you, because he has no face, but he opts to hold you as close as possible.

when the child is born, he carries it inside of his cloak or on his shoulders.

his ghostly hands will run along your stomach and up your arms, sometimes giving you light massages when he can.

NSFW

doesn't have a problem with you being pregnant at all, but it still is surprising for both the fact that he is a ghost and also only has tentacles, not a physical penis.

his main source of pleasure for both of you when you are pregnant is his tentacles, but he also uses his fingers from time to time. he has even let you hump his thigh when you wanted.

he can't have you in the usual position with you on all fours, as to not damage your stomach, so he keeps you sitting while he gets to work.

if you wish, he also will allow you to be on top. your weight wont affect him at all.

sex with him is ALWAYS soft. even without you being pregnant. he is a really calm guy, not aggressive in any way unless absolutely necessary.

carries you in the bridal position often.

MR. GAP

SFW

originally when you told him, he didn't say anything. he just stared at you before disappearing. what you thought was anger, was actually him just going to Mr. Silvair to ask what that meant.

even with his questions answered, he was relatively nonchalant about it. not much else he could do honestly.

you did notice slight changes in his demeanor though. small things like hissing at people through the cracks in the walls, or not allowing you to leave his location.

tied to that, he often kept you near him at all times. usually you would be stuck to his side or under his arm, but it didn't matter to him.

he was always sassy, but tended to be much calmer while you were pregnant. he even stayed when you would cry from pain/hormones.

he became gentler with you, not tossing or snatching you like he would previously.

you would be given many little gifts he would find, either without you knowing or just blatantly giving it to you.

he would do many experimental touches, both confused and curious. he liked your breasts though, of course.

NSFW

wall sex. constantly. almost every opportunity he had, he would bend you against the wall and rail you.

very rarely would he be soft, but if you asked him to he would slow down.

his hand never left your stomach, sometimes having both on it in your bent over position.

he finds your pregnancy hot. he likes how your stomach grows, breasts enlarge, and hips grow wider. big turn on for him.

he also enjoys eating your cunt from behind, also in the bent over position. if you are up for it, he will eat your ass too. likes the view of your pregnant stomach and breasts hanging slightly.

fingering would be just as rough as usual with him. still very very good though, he hits all the right places.

he's weird, he would absolutely squeeze your breast hard and watch milk squirt from it. even when you tell him its gross, he laughs and does it again.

kisses also become more frequent, both lips and stomach.

MR. MACHETE

SFW

dude does not care at all, just shrugs and walks away.

when you catch up to him again and explain it to him, he smirks and goes "More, Fight?" meaning he wants to fight the kid too.

you would have to slap his arm and tell him no, only for him to shrug again. "Disappointed."

when realization hits him, it definitely makes him groan. he doesn't want to have to take care of a kid, but he still wont leave you. he isn't THAT bad.

eventually he would warm up to it, going softer on you and not attempting to fight you as often.

will begrudgingly carry you around, even though you didn't ask him to. he will try to tell you its not because he cares, but you know better.

the type of guy to throw his machete at someone for looking at you wrong.

he does enjoy wrapping you in his arms, like a small toy.

much like Mr. Hood, when the baby is born and grows to an actual child, he will carry it on his shoulders and be genuinely friendly.

NSFW

you're gonna be sore for days. pregnant or not, he doesn't change his pace. he keeps you on top of him while he is sitting, and bounces you up and down like a doll.

easily manhandles you, the extra weight doing absolutely nothing for him.

will also hold your stomach up while he pounds you from behind.

will tease you by saying things like "Going to, Make, Two" just to piss you off.

he doesn't go down on you often. not because he doesn't want to, but because of his sharp teeth. it doesn't affect him either way though.

he has rough and calloused fingers, perfect for fingering you, rough as always even during your pregnancy.

again, doesn't care that you are pregnant and will still mark you.

also the kind of guy to get off on squeezing breast milk out of you. even when you slap his hands away.

very much enjoys a boob job with your enlarged chest, and will cum all over your face from it.

thank u for reading, ily all 🥺

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

2K notes · View notes

prettyboykatsuki · 3 months ago

Text

slow down | n. seishiro

✮ tags ; gn + afab!reader, fwb to lovers, implied dom reader, switching for the first time (kinda), unprotected sex, backshots, explicit smut, love confessions in the middle of sex, 18+

✮ wc ; 2.8k

✮ a/n ; im not taking questions at this time don't ask me anything. title from chase atlantic. dont say a word to me.

✮ synopsis ; when you ask him to fuck the sad out of you, nagi mostly does it because it's you.

but maybe it's worth doing again, if it makes you whine so pretty.

Something clicks.

It's weird. Nagi doesn't totally get why it happens now of all times. Figuring out he loves you mid-thrust seems silly, even for him.

It's not like this is the first time Nagi has ever had sex with you. He decided to fulfill your request of asking him to put in a little work while you hung out on shared day off.

He's used to the routine of you coming over to use him, more or less. He doesn't mind it at least. He doesn't think too deeply about it in general. Once you propositioned him to be your regular hook-up, Nagi couldn't find it in himself to voice a complaint.

Sex with you feels good, probably because being around you has always felt nice. You pamper him a little like Reo does, but you're... different, somehow. Nagi can't completely explain it. You have a different feeling to you like all of the ways you spoil him to you sort of come easy.

You said once that you like that you know what to expect with Nagi. It was easy not to hope or want for anything other than what you got.

He isn't sure why he's remembering all of this now. It's not the time. You're holding onto his pillow, muffling moans into it while you fuck yourself back on his dick and there are at least five things he should probably be more concerned with than what he's thinking about right now.

Maybe it's the same, really. He's still thinking of you. On the other hand that's all he ever does.

Nagi watches you, suddenly mesmerized by the view. He's not usually fucking you from this angle, but he can tell he's feeling you a lot deeper. The sex he's used to having is lazy and 'intimate' as you put it, too much for a hook-up. You're usually under his weight, or in his lap, or on your belly while he curls over you. You're usually the one controlling the pace, and if he is thrusting at all - he's usually doing it with his head totally empty. Chasing the pleasure with a mindlessness that feels comfortable. Cock heavy with need, thrusting into you - warm and wet, perfect around him.

The sex you have with Nagi is good, but above all it's comfortable. You come expecting him to get hard and do what you ask - which is easy.

This is not that.

But it's good. Maybe better. At the very least, new in a way he wants to explore.

You weren't even supposed to be having sex. Though that's usually the case - you'd told him before coming over that you weren't feeling quite up to it. You asked if it'd be okay if all you did was cuddle and of course it was.

Not wanting to have sex is one thing, but it was the abrupt difference in your mood that prompted his concern. You're usually upbeat and chatty - like to talk to his ear off even if he's not totally listening.

So it's weird when you crawl into his bed silent and almost moody, it's so obvious even Nagi can tell. And it worries him as is, but it worries him most when you get worked up enough to cry in front of him after he asks you what's wrong.

He's not usually good with stuff like that, so he uses the advice so he falls back on what he's used to. Asking if there's anything he can do.

You made a joke, between a sniffle. You could fuck the sadness out of me, I guess.

You weren't serious. But Nagi thought, well he could do that much. It doesn't bother him, since it's you and he has a day off. And it feels off to see you cry, so if he can get you stop - that'd be good.

Sex is different when Nagi is the one putting the work in. This is the delayed realization. He's never really thought about doing it - since the sex you have already is really good. He doesn't see the point in fixing what's not broken.

He likes it like this, he thinks. Even kissing you. It's fun, somehow. He's never seen you act like this before. Whining, sighing - something almost pitiful to you. You're expecting him to give up from what he can tell, at least from all the times you pull away from him—glassy eyed and giggly, asking if he's had his fun yet.

And honestly, Nagi is expecting it of himself too. He's done his job in making you feel better.

He's sort of surprised at how much he wants to keep going.

It feels good though. Euphoric. A sense of ego, he supposes. It feels good to know what he can do to you if he wants too, at any time.

He looks down at the evidence it and almost feels content.

You fuck yourself back onto him the second he moves and it makes him click his teeth just a bit. It bothers him somehow, in this specific instance. His hands find the soft flesh pudge of your hips and he thinks about how good you feel between his fingers as he holds you in place hard.

You wiggle yourself back against him desperately and in unconscious retaliation he pulls out completely. Your pussy gapes open at his absence - the first time he's ever seen inside. Swollen and sticky, fluttering as his thick cock lays against your cunt. Crystalline threads of pre-cum and arousal stick and cling to you both. Your pussy is glistening pretty under the low-lights, viscous threads of his own pre sticking against the hair of your pussy. Cock red, tip ruddy and throbbing.

Nagi rubs against you tentatively. Pleasure guides him, his hips finding the right angle to thrust against you but not quite inside. He can hear the moan you bite into the pillow and feels a strange sense of contentment mix with vague annoyance. It'd be better if he heard you loud and clear.

"Nagi-kun," You breathe out. It's the first time he's heard you say his name like that.

Something inside him jolts. It's the same realization he had before. He should tell you before it slips away.

"Again."

A pause. Nagi ruts his hips, forcing it out of you. "Nagi-kun."

"That's it," He mumbles, to himself. "I like that."

You make another garbled noise - force your hips back up and Nagi pulls away again, not on purpose. Somehow, he doesn't feel like giving you what you want quite yet. You do this, back and forth until you whimper, head turned over your shoulders.

"Why aren't you fucking me?" You whine, words filtered through thick tears, voice riddled with frustration. "Fuck me, already."

"Mm,"

Nagi doesn't want to make you beg. But he likes this feeling - whatever it is. How you act when he holds you in his palm. Doesn't want to make you small. Rather, you are like this. Cute. Makes him want to see everything else you could do in reply to him. Even if it means you might nip at him, somehow - if it's you, it wouldn't be bad. He rubs his cock again against your swollen cunt, sliding it between your thighs too for good measure. Gripping your hips even harder he fucks inbetween them with a sigh - head of his cock catching on your clit.

You keep moaning his name when he makes you feel good. The harder he goes, the more he smacks his his hips against your ass - not quite relieving the pressure in your gut you just keep crying out for him. It's nice to hear. That's all it is, really.

"Not my thighs," You whine. Nagi takes a breath, pushing a hand through his hair.

"Where?"

You make a noise, looking over at him from your shoulder - scandalized. "Are you serious?"

He doesn't reply or react, just keeps still. You groan.

"Fuck my pussy," You say, wincing at your own voice. "Want your dick inside me."

"Call me Seishiro,"

You blink absently, another desperate cry "Seishiro-kun," You breathe, soft and gentle and sincere. Cute. "Fuck me. Please?"

He nods. Doesn't say anything in reply - just grabs your hips and leans forward - a hand next to your head. Keep himself steady, and keep you upright.

Raw dick slick from sliding against your sex, tip heavy with pre-cum - Nagi stuffs his cock inside you in one go. Your pussy stretches around him with ease, accommodates his ridiculous length like it's done it time and again. He's felt it before, felt you before - but it's the first time he's really noticing just how much effort it must put in to do it. Somehow, he finds that endearing too.

His cock, thick and heavy and wanting - aches as he bottoms out. Sticky heat swallows him whole, his waist melting against your own and making him weak. It always feels good, but it never feels this good. Never feels good enough that he makes a noise any louder than a breath.

But he moans this time - shivers as his fingers sink into the plush of your hips and he grinds the tip of your cock against the very edge of your cervix. Your knees go weak underneath him, you'd buckle if he wasn't there to hold you upright.

Another wave of arousal spills around the girth of his cock, and you squeeze down on him tight. Oh. You like that. He does it again, mindlessly. You grow wetter, more desperate. All pulsing waves of heat and desire, Nagi can feel your legs tense as you get stimulated from the inside.

"Keep your hips up," Is all he says as he lets go, moving his hand around your waist until his fingers brush your clit. You gasp.

"Seishi—hicc,"

Words lost, Nagi rubs a circle into the throbbing bundle of nerves. Twitchy, restless under his fingers - he's practiced in this. Good with his hands, he starts slow until he finds a place it gets easy for him to do without putting any tension on the rest of him.

You're shaking before him. Nagi places an absent kiss on your shoulder blade. You keep half-way saying his name, stumbling on the syllables and sounds when he makes you feel good.

"Fuck," You're falling apart. He can hear it. "Quit touchin' me like that. I'll cum."

"Then cum,"

"I don't want to cum like this,"

"Then how?" He says. A delayed sense of understanding. "Oh, you want to cum on my cock?"

You clench down on him hard. Huh.

"That's it? Is that why you won't cum?"

"Sei-kun," You're so whiny like this. "You're being extremely unfair today."

"Am I? Sorry." He isn't sure if he means that. "Is that what you meant? You want to cum while I fuck you,"

You frown, voice barely above a whisper. "...Yeah. So quit it already,"

Nagi pulls out and you breathe a sigh of relief before he slams right back in. You almost scream, mouth fallen open. "Just tell me next time. It's fine."

Again. Your words die as soon as he moves. This was the right pace. The right everything. He can tell because your pussy keeps fluttering around him, slick walls trembling so violently each time he slides in and out. Gripping onto the hard length of his cock like you don't want him to pull out completely. Each time he gets close to doing so, you suck him in further. Milk his cock for all it's worth, his balls feeling suddenly heavy and tight. He moans in pre-emptive, at the thought of how good it's gonna feel unloading it in you.

"You feel so good." He says, appreciative. You whimper again. "Ah, see? It's so tight. Does it feel good for you?"

"Feels so good. Love when you fuck me Sei,"

Love. His thoughts loop back around again to what he was thinking about at the start.

"You feel good to me. Really good." And then, not thinking about it at all. "I love you,"

You tense, looking over your shoulder - looking out of it, dazed. Unsure. "W-what?"

"Huh? I said I love you,"

"S-Seishiro?"

Your pussy grinds down on him again. You liked hearing that, huh?

"I love you," He says, and you whimper - audible. "I wanted to tell you before."

"Sei—"

...!

He stops again before picking back upon a brutal pace almost instantly. It feels right. No mercy as he pounds his cock in and out of you - suddenly feeling like something's possessed.

Your hands reach back to try and push him out but they're so weak it's almost ticklish.

"Sorry. Later," He says, fucking you with every ounce of effort he can finds - rubbing your clit with nasty precision. Each moan sounds punched out of you, breathy and high. "You're so cute."

And you are, Nagi thinks. He's starting to understand. You're cute in a different way that everything else cute is. That's special to you. It's all so cute to him.

You repeat his name again and again. Nagi never gets sick of hearing you say it somehow. He wonders why it only just clicked that this is something he can have. He wishes he would've figured it out sooner.

"Sei," You say, mindless - unthinking. He can feel your whole body tighten, tension making your limbs wind back. Fingers clawing in the sheets, toes curled up, spine curving into a 'C' as the pressure in your gut slowly unravels and throbs around him.

Nagi keeps pace - multitasking well enough that you don't falter. Laser-focused, he wants to know what it's like to make you cum from his own hands. His own ego. He wants to know how you feel underneath when your body gives out from pleasure - in the same way he wants other things. Completely selfishly, a hunger gnawing in his gut as you get close to the edge. He doesn't stop, doesn't slow, doesn't falter. He pounds into you as you gasp and tremble without a sense of mercy.

Raw desire burrows itself into his chest and blooms inside the space between his bones. His eyes almost hurt from how hard he focuses.

Finally, you call his name once more - your cunt spasming relentlessly around him. Hot, so hot - his dick almost hurts from how hard he wants to cum before you.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck—cumming, I'm cumming!"

Nagi groans as you cum. His cock nearly slips out from how hard you pulse around him, waves of your own cum and arousal frothing around the base of his cock from how hard he fucks you. A wet liquid sprays against his thighs as he bottoms out while you ride your high. His own body gives up on holding back as soon as he feels you cumming.

Two thrusts more and he's spilling his seed into you full. Hot, thick ropes of cum paint your insides white as he pants. He almost collapses over you, the both of you breathing hard from exhaustion as the high starts to cum down. He can barely think.

It's annoying he's still hard, but he's not quite tired. He hasn't gone soft.

"Nagi-kun,"

"Seishiro," He corrects. You look over your shoulder at him in surprise. Nagi looks back plainly.

"Uhm. Right. Seishiro-kun. Did you...did you mean to say that?"

"What? That I love you?"

"Yeah. Or was it a heat of the moment thing?"

"Huh? Why would it be that?" He says, earnestly confused. For someone reason this makes you giggle. "I meant it. I just figured it out."

You pause. "...While we were having sex?"

"Huh? Yeah. You were really cute like that."

"What the—did you call me cute?"

"Yeah. Do you not like that?"

"I didn't—It's not that I didn't like it but it's... I would've never imagined you saying it to me,"

He wonders why. You're plenty cute. It's just that Nagi only recently really figured out what the word was. He shrugs. You chuckle.

"What were you going to do if I didn't like you?"

He pauses. "I didn't think about it. Do you not like me?"

You laugh harder this time. "That's so like you. I do like you, Sei-kun. I love you too,"

"Then it's fine," He hums., noncommittally. You giggle.

"I guess so."

A pause. Nagi loves the warmth of your body under him. He wants to keep cuddling but something bugs him.

"Can we go again like this? It won't go down."

...

"... Seriously? Normally it takes you a minute."

"I think it's cause you said you love me." Nagi adds.

"Oh my god. Did I just unleash something in you? You've never acted like this before, like ever."

Nagi shrugs. It'd be good to get use to it now, he thinks.

"Maybe. Can't we?"

You squirm underneath him and Nagi feels himself twitch. Your face warms. See? You're plenty cute, he thinks.

"...I guess it's fine."

He nods. "I wanna do it while looking at you this time. Okay?"

"God. Sure. Okay."

#writing tag #nagi x reader #nagi smut #bluelock x reader #bluelock smut #IM EMBARASSED GOODBYE FOREVER.

2K notes · View notes

harrysfolklore · 3 months ago

Text

harry and yn styles read thirst tweets

omg she posted a harry fic! honestly i've been missing him sooo much lately, harry please come home. anyway hope you like this

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

"Hey It's YN Styles."

"And I'm Harry Styles."

"And we're here to read your thirst tweets," you introduced, "I feel excited."

"I feel uncomfortable," Harry joked, making you throw your head back in laughter.

"Really? Already?"

"I'm just saying, if i I don't turn beat read by the end of this, we have failed."

THIRST TWEETS WITH HARRY AND YN STYLES

"What about I read the ones that are directed at you and you read the ones directed at me?" Harry asked, phone with the tweets ready in hand.

"Sounds perfect, babe."

"Okay, let's read thirst tweets strangers post about my wife," his eyes widened and he shook his head, "Thinking about YN's boobs again," he read, turning his gaze to you and shrugging "I relate, I guess."

"That's the whole tweet? Thinking about my boobs again?" he nodded, "I mean, I hope that doesn't distract you from your daily chores," you said to the camera as if you were talking to the person who posted the tweet.

"Yeah, that happens to me often."

"Thanks honey, I guess," you turned to look at the phone to read Harry's tweet, "Harry Styles can I kiss your cheek please it looks so soft and smoochable," you looked up with a frown in your brow, "So all of my tweets are going to be horny and his are going to be adorable."

Harry and the crew laughed as you shook your head, "I mean, love, my cheek is actually soft and smoochable," Harry said as he shrugged.

"Not right now tho, you need to shave," you said, running your finger through his cheek.

"My own wife doesn't like my facial hair, that's such a shame," he looked at his phone again, "YN, sexy and married to Harry Styles, she's literally winning and all I can do is watch and wish that was me. Whoa, thoughts baby?"

"I mean, I am really lucky," Harry smiled fondly, "Do your daily affirmations, friends, that's how I got this one," the crew laughed at this, "I would pay Harry Styles to punch me in the face," you read the next tweets and his eyes widened.

"Why do people say that? I would never punch anyone in the face, why would I do that?"

"It's an expression babe, it means that they think you're hot," you explained.

"Well, there are non violent ways to say that," he said, "Listen I am bisexual for a reason and that reason is strictly to be used in a threesome by YN and Harry Styles," he read and you instantly covered your face in embarrassment, "I mean, whoa, the things you kids post on the internet."

"I don't know what to say, honestly," you shook your head, looking down at your phone to cover your embarrassment, "Thinking about Harry Styles naked butt again," you read the tweet and Harry laughed, "How does that make you feel? That people can think about your naked butt thanks to My Policeman."

"I have a nice but, I'd like to think," he shrugged, "YN is a living, breathing wet dream," he read on his phone, "I mean, I concur, I have a song about it, It's called Watermelon Sugar."

"Oh thanks honey, glad to know romance isn't dead, and speaking about Watermelon Sugar," you glanced at your phone, "This one says, I want Harry Styles belly deep inside me or whatever he says in that watermelon song."

"Jesus Christ," Harry immediately said, "Not quite what that song says, but close I guess," he looked at another tweet, "I would let YN choke me with her thighs."

"That's nice considering most people want you to choke them with your thighs."

"How do you even know that?" Harry asked as he furrowed his brow.

"I lurk on twitter sometimes," you shrugged, "Are Harry and YN looking for a third right now? Cause I get horny by just looking at them."

"Our marriage is fine like this, but if we ever need a third we'll let you know," Harry spoke to the camera, "Okay last one, are yo ready?"

"Definitely not."

"I need YN to rail me more than I need air to breathe."

"Wow," you clasped your hands together, "I don't know if I should be flattered or worried."

"Flattered, love, we all want you to rail us."

"Harry! Control it!" you laughed and he shrugged, "Are we done?"

"We are," Harry turned to the camera, "Thank you buzzfeed and you thirsty fuckers, that was fun but we're never doing it again."

"Definitely, bye!"

1K notes · View notes

monzabee · 3 months ago

Text

short n' sweet (social media au) - op81

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where in an attempt to figure out who Y/N is dating, the internet come up with theories only to realise she is dating none other than Oscar Piastri and chaos ensues.

Pairing: oscar piastri x pop star!reader (model used: sabrina carpenter) (and domingooo)

Warnings: cursing (i think), sabrina carpenter is horny but it's okay we ride with it, feat the internet being the internet, i have a big fat crush on mercello hernandez so you have been warned

Auhtor note: came all this way, had to explain, direct from @percervall; mar this one is for you, i haven't had this much fun in a long time so thank you for indulging my brainrot and excitement😭🫶

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

yourusername

Liked by elleusa, taylorswift, gracieabrams and 3,255,376 others

yourusername: toto, i have a feeling we're not in kansas anymore. short'n sweet cumming to a city near you! first stop: columbus, ohio

user: bro just give me ONE chance

user: SHE'S GORGEOUS ❤️❤️❤️❤️

user: te amo diva

user: don't know if i wanna be with her or i wanna be her

view all 5,594 comments.

user: see you tomorrow pookie

user: cant wait to see u 🫶🏼✨🤍

user: she’s the sweetest & shortest 💋

user: it’s Y/N's world and we’re just living in it😭🤍🤍💋💋💋

user: is he talking about TOTO FUCKING WOLFF??

user: why is f1 everywhere, no she isn't😭

tiktokuser1

caption: bed chem from opening night!!

user: that mic is ON! ✨

user: I LOVE THIS DIVA!!

user: watching this isn’t enough, I have to be there

user: I need that bed.. NEOWWW

user: SHE BETTER BRING THE DAMN TOUR TO AUSTRALIA CAUSE THE FOMO IS CRAZY

user: oh i think she'll be bringing the tour to australia alright

user: what does that mean??

user: what do you know!!

tiktokuser2

caption: YO I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING BUT SHORT N' SWEET TOUR IS THAT GIRL!!

user: 'have you ever tried this one?' ugh her mind😭

user: IS THIS THE NEW NONESENSE OUTRO FOR THIS TOUR I NEED TO KNOW

user: i can't take my eyes off this, i've been staring at it for the past five minutes!

user: okay diva we see you👀

yourusername

Liked by madisonbeer, oscarpiastri, haileybieber and 4,182,928 others

yourusername: hello l.a., are you ready to wrap it up?

user: OSCAR JACK PIASTRI WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

user: okay who is he and why is he lurking in my diva's likes?

user: MY QUEEN (me typing this while listening to espresso 👀)

user: just a girl living life and making everyone fall in love with her

user: i’m 26 and AFRAID of Y/N Y/LN

view all 7,011 comments.

user: the caption and the last pic with the kittens the vibes don't match i love you😭

yourusername: stoppp, i diee

user: how is this tour like halfway over ????? second leg of tour maybe???? 😭

tiktokuser3

caption: have you ever tried this one?

user: i don't know how she keeps coming up with these

user: imagine having this much freak, i wouldn't be able to leave my house

user: am i the only one who is excited for the last three shows in la??

user: her boyfriend is one lucky guy that's for sure

user: she has a boyfriend??

user: girl who do you think the guy in the white jacket and the thick accent is?

tiktokuser4

caption: omg guys😭😭 domingo is here😭😭

user: CAME ALLL THIS WAAY HAD TO EXPLAAAIN

user: deerect from domingoo

user: okay hear me out... mercello and Y/N??

user: noooo, this crossover is actually too insane i can't handle it

user: look at how he's looking at her bro's down bad😭

tiktokuser5

caption: WE'VE LOST HER TO DOMINGO GUYS

user: somebody call kyle and tell him the good news😭

user: who's kyle?

user: omg do you live under a rock or something?

user: am i the only one who thinks they are not dating?

yourusername

Liked by tiktok, oscarpiastri, marcellohdz and 3,669,817 others

yourusername: LA night 2 ♥️💋 second locationnnn maybe he’s biiii!!! see you tonight for our last show of the US leg :’) how the hell

user: God bless your Dad’s genetics, Domingo

user: OMG DOMINGOOO… “NOW SHES WITH A HOT GUY BUT HE LOOKS GAY, HEARD HIS NAMES DOMINGO”

user: DOMINGO IS CHEATING ON KELSEY

user: no hate to domingo, but oscar jack piastri liked this post under 1 minute😭😭

user: i think we've established that she is probably dating marcello, please stop with the delulu

user: Y/N IM HERE👹

view all 5,179 comments.

user: marcelo hernandez had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever… and he did

user: the budget for this tour is insane… feels like a literal broadway production

user: came all this way, let her explain deeerect from LA

yourusername

Liked by oscarpiastri, madisonbeer, marcellohdz and 4,928,234 others

yourusername: date night but make it our way tagged: oscarpiastri

user: i'm sorrryyyy, but the dress is giving andie andersonn

yourusername: princess sophia is having some fun tonightt

user: this is still the most mind boggling couple ever BUT YOU LOOK GOOD THO

user: i'm so normal about this, i am sooooo normal about this

user: it's giving ross from friends and i am here for it

user: the best hard launch in the history of hard launches

oscarpiastri: great show, even better after party

yourusername: why did i know you were going to comment this

oscarpiastri: i'm literally sitting right next to you and you saw me type it

user: unhinged gf x calm bf duo is superior and this is the biggest proof ever

view all 6,728 comments.

marcellohdz: but what about domingo...

yourusername: i'm sorry domingo...

user: but is mark webber still alive, MARK ARE YOU THERE

oscarpiastri

Liked by yourusername, landonorris, mclaren and 928,256 others

oscarpiastri: came all this way, had to explain... tagged: yourusername

yourusername: 100% recommend, 5-star service

oscarpiastri: 😐

yourusername: 🥰

user: mister oscar jack piastri god bless your dad's genetics indeed

user: world class driving, world class relationship reveal

landonorris: okay but do we get free concert tickets ooor?

oscarpiastri: 😐

yourusername: of course!

user: this is actually so cute i'm going to throw up

view all 3,156 comments.

user: have you ever tried this one just took a whole other meaning

user: wait, are we going to see them together in las vegas??

user: the hard launching is insaneee

#monzabee #formula 1 x reader #social media au #f1 social media au #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #formula one x reader #oscar piastri social media au

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reidsglasscs · 3 months ago

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TALK NERDY TO ME

✸ pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

✸ synopsis: you love to just stare at spencer as he info dumps

✸ warnings: none!

✸ a/n: this isn’t proof read at all by AYYYY look at me writing again on here 🙌 spencer reid is the new loml btw

You loved to listen to Spencer talk. And when I say love, I mean love.

He could ramble on about anything from the weather to the gravitational propulsion of the moon in comparison to the rest of the celestial bodies in our milkyway, and he could do any of it happily and until someone inevitably told him to just shut up.

That someone was never you though, and it never would be.

You didn’t quite know what it was, but there was just something about the way he spoke that was entrancing. His voice, his focus, the way he talked with his hands, and how his volume would gradually increase as he got more and more excited and remembered more details about what it was he was explaining.

If he moved around, your head moved with him, swiveling about to keep up, awe-struck eyes stuck on him the entire time.

Spencer could infodump about the drying times of different paint brands and you’d hand onto every last word he said, just because he was the one saying it.

It was safe to say that the team had gotten sick and tired of the two of you quickly.

Nobody else wanted to hear Spencer rattle on about useless, unrelated topics, and they certainly didn’t want to sit there and watch as you just prolonged the discussion by encouraging him to continue further just because you liked his voice.

And yet, it happens nearly every single jet ride without fail.

“I mean, really, it’s not all that uncommon for killers to write letters to their victims before killing them. In most cases, it’s seen as either a form of warning or of love. That’s why it never raises any red flags in most cases, because the victim is simply led to believe that they have a secret admirer of sorts. Oh! And a study done in the early 80s by Alexander Wilkins found that in over seventy percent of those cases, the unsub actually was in love with his victim or victims.”

Here Spencer was yammering on about false love-induced psychosis, and you were looking at him like he were professing his own undying love for you.

A hand propped up on the armrest of your chair held your chin, your big doe eyes watching him close and listening even closer.

You didn’t even know yet if it retained to the case whatsoever, it was just a possibility that Emily happened to throw out there in the initial case overview, and now you were all listening to the history of psycho killer lovers.

Spencer caught a glimpse of your wonder-filled gaze and smiled, continuing on with his explanation with a newfound encouragement.

“There’s no shot you’re actually interested in this,” Morgan grumbles to your left.

You swat a hand at him in a weak attempt to shush him, eyes still trained on Spencer.

He talked and talked for about ten more minutes before concluding the topic and being cut off by Hotch before he could cross into another one.

Taking the hint, he reclaimed his seat beside you, all rambled out for the moment.

When he does, you weave your hand through his, your hands resting together in his lap.

“I thought it was interesting, Spence,” You told him as a little boost of reassurance.

“You say that every time,” he smiled.

“And I mean it every time,” you countered with a smile of your own.

“Oh yeah?” He rose a brow. “Can you tell me a single thing I just said or were you just staring and not listening?”

After considering it for a moment you realized that no, you couldn’t tell him a single thing he’d said, having been too distracted with your enraptured staring to actually pay attention.

So you just smiled wider at him, leaning a little closer as you both dissolve into a fit of childish giggles.

#୨୧ love letters #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!readr #x reader #fluff #spencer reid fluff #cm x reader #criminal minds fandom

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sidsinning · 3 months ago

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Surprising thing about Dandadan is Okarun randomly pulls different girls throughout the manga, but all of their feelings for him are not very deep (you could argue Aira, but I think her feelings were kinda insta-love which is then used as mostly a gag- kinda unsrs to watch)

-Aira is already obsessed with him the next time they meet

-Vamola is obsessed with him after a random kiss (then ends up being explained it was for plot and not real romantic feelings)

-Rin- what foundation, and her whole vampire attraction moment was literally a joke 😭🖐

But Momo's relationship with Jiji then later Unji are taken much more seriously with strong foundations for why they have feelings/might be growing feelings for her, while also feeling realistic and subtle

Like I'm sorry but this was cute and we have never gotten a such a significantly intimate moment like this from Okarun with any of Momo's love rivals 🖐

Zuma got a whole arc with her to himself like??? Insane you can tell when Yukinobu locks in for the love rival plots LOL

In exchange for Momo's outward very obvious bursts of hilarious jealousy we get more complex love rivals for Okarun to battle lmao, least that's how I see it

(By "more complex" I mean in regards to them as love rivals, all the characters are equally complex as just characters)

Okarun got game but Momo got GAME GAME like they sense her baddie wife energy

Momo is a total catch like she's literally MVP for almost all the fights in Dandadan, and the only times she isn't is when she literally isn't present- so I don't blame them 😌💅✨️✨️✨️

And ofc in the end all these people's feelings for our MCs are only there to develop their romance, bc they obviously only want each other

Sidenote ppl who are like "wow a pretty girl has to be paired with a nerdy loser guy again"

Bitch listen

First of all he has his ultra baddie form

Second of all he is devoted to the nth degree to Momo and only Momo, all his thoughts are consumed by her, and everything he does is for her happiness and safety

Like the way he got so fucking mad a dude was degrading her right in front of him??? The way Okarun was used to being pushed around and bullied for most of his school life but he threw hands with a rando immediately with no hesitation for her sake??? She wasn't even in the room to hear it??? A MAN

No Okarun slander shall be tolerated here ✋️

#dandadan #dandadan spoilers #dandadan manga #okarun #momo ayase #ken takakura #unji zuma #jiji #aira shiratori #sidrabbles #i was reading the manga and getting annoyed to see it was kinda feeling like shounen harem bs for a bit #but the author reeled it in #so yay

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occamstfs · 1 month ago

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Man-Candle

Under the guise of a gag-gift Chad gives his bookish friend a candle based on his own b.o. Little does Stephen know, as soon as he lights the wick he sets off to join the jock in sweaty abandon.

Very musk forward Jock TF! Hope you enjoy this story of Stephen's scent-based (new)self-discovery, Best! -Occam

His ears ring with tinnitus as he opens the gift. It’s as if an explosion has gone off as he tries to process the pancake in his hands. Everything in him says to laugh, it’s clearly a gag gift, a Man-Candle? His mouth is dry and all the blood in his head rushes to its other epicenter as Stephen looks up, eyes wide, to the man who by all appearances has given him a candle of his own musk, Chad.

His cocky grin is a perfect likeness of the one on the candle’s label staring up from Stephen’s lap. Chad’s expression grows even smarmier as he winks and raises an arm to smell his pit. Stephen’s face burns red as he sees the clear patch of grey that must have been fermenting all morning, his cock bumps against the package.

Chad’s eyes shoot immediately to the sound and his smirk shifts and an eyebrow’s raised in curiosity, excited that his friend must quite like the gift. Stephen speaks up quickly, lest the two brain cells bouncing around the jock’s skull stumble across any ideas, “What the fuck?” The first volley, bounces off Chad’s steel confidence. The second “what the fuck,” causes an eye narrow as the idea that this may be a misstep finally occurs to him, the third repetition of Stephen’s new mantra apparent gets through through Chad’s thick skull.

The jock’s arm remains raised to scratch his back and Stephen’s cock is more than happy to see the grey patch return and his mind must remain focused on not staring directly at the few pit hairs sneaking above his sleeve. Chad clears his throat awkwardly, “I mean bro… Chicks are always talking about how they love, huh- y’know,” he gestures to the air around him, “my aura. Just thought, you know, uhhh- a dude like you might too?”

The jock braces as he sees Stephen’s eyes narrow as he clearly winds up to somehow lash out. Unfortunately for the twink he takes a deep breath to start and is hit with the full force of the man’s ‘aura,’ it catches him off guard and underneath the package his cock pushes again. Stephen grits his teeth and averts his eyes as he tries to hide his desire, “Chad! Those are people you’re sleeping with! I’m just- This is-” Stephen does everything in his power to quiet his lust as he finishes, “Why would I want this?”

Chad tongues his cheek and juts his stubbled jaw. Scratching his meaty stomach in thought, Stephen can hear the hairs dragged underneath the jock’s tight shirt. Making up his mind Chad decides to speak on the elephant, or moreover the trunk, in the room. Nodding to the gift poorly hiding Stpehen’s erection, Chad shrugs “I mean bro, seems like you’re enjoying it just fine.”

“Jesus Christ, fucking straight men!” As unfortunately turned on as Stephen is from the gift and the hunk he has long tried to not be attracted to, at the highlighting of his out of control cock he finds the will to defend his paltry dignity. Though instead of speaking up as his mind is not running on all cylinders, his hands instead reach for anything not breakable to hurl at the man still smirking.

Pillows fly at the man as he continues to try and explain his thoughts, “Yo bro! Watch it-” he grabs one to use as a shield against the continued volley, “I mean I can take it back if you want!” Stephen’s dreams of salvaging dignity perhaps fall to the wayside as this remark causes the hardest throw yet. Chad smirks behind the pillow and finally gets to the door, “Whatever dude! I’ll see ya later! Once you’ve cooled off a bit-”

Chad stands behind the closed door with a shit-eating grin on his face, straight men huh. Awfully dismissive of the bi jock’s identity but whatever. He listens to Stephen huff and unbox the candle through the wall, unaware that the real gift is to come when he finally lights that bad boy up. Whenever the pair get drunk enough it always devolves into Stephen wishing he’d hit the gym more and Chad begging for his friend to join him. He’d love nothing more than a gym bro he can fuck, and soon enough, unless Stephen has the strength to nip his blue balls in the bud, both wishes are to be granted.

It does not take long for already riled-up Stephen to give in to his curious urges. As soon as the scent of Chad in the air dissipates and he hears the front door of his apartment close, the countdown begins. Stephen stares at the obnoxiously smug photo of Chad on the candle and narrows his eyes, “I mean surely it’s a bit? It can’t actually smell like him specifically? Seems hm, expensive to do.”

He bites his lip as he shakily goes to remove the lid, driven by a mind less than conscious and more than hungry. Mouth on the precipice of watering, as soon as the seal is cracked the scent washes over him like a tidal wave. Somehow more powerful, more alluring than the real thing. Rich and grimy, and indisputably the essence of Chad distilled into waxen form.

His eyes are glazed over and his mouth is now pooling with drool. It's anyone’s guess as to how the candle gets lit, but so it does. Stephen falls back onto the couch as his hands struggle to free his cock quick enough from pants that force it down at an awkward angle. It finally bounces free, flinging more pre than he’s ever produced upward. Droplets land just shy of his own face as his mouth falls wantonly open and his hands begin their gleeful work.

The creation of Eau De Chad was not light work, the boiling down of man into a single candle is quite the ask. Perhaps even more so than the transformative magic that it is to instill in Stephen. Within the candle are notes from every musky epicenter of Chad’s being, more than powerful enough to distract Stephen as he begins his journey into a musky jock’s shoes himself.

Foremost of the mind-numbing notes that the lost man is bathing himself in is perhaps the one he’s smelled the least. As strong as in his jock after a workout, sweaty pubes and dripping pre. The medley of scents from Chad’s crotch is so powerful that even without clearly even knowing the source it’s on the tip of Stephen’s tongue, much like he would dream to have on his tongue in reality.

Each breath pulling him deeper than the last, Stephen continues to paw at his cock now free to the open, musky air. With each kneading thrust his hands struggle to encompass his dick as it begins to change. Years of pushing down primal desires for his friend, the Adonis, evaporate into the air as he pictures himself working Chad’s cock. Breathing and licking the heady swear straight from the source.

He imagines working the larger man’s spit-covered cock and with each new image in his mind his own beast begins to reform. Dripping more pre than he’s produced in his life up to this point, his hips thrust into wanting hands as his dick thickens and spears high into the air. Lengthening to press against his sternum, veins bulge and criss-cross across its length as its head regrows a foreskin he never had the chance to enjoy.

When his smaller hands, unable to truly satisfy or encompass his new rod, shift down to try and cup balls bulging larger and pumping him full of masculinity, he hears them scratch against the new jungle of growing pubes. Though the jock tries to keep his chest relatively hairless, under the belt hair growth is wild enough to more than make up for it, and as Stephen begins changing into his new musky lover, he seems to be of the same persuasion.

The candle wick flickers as a new scent begins to rise in prominence. This one Stephen recognizes all too well, though usually poorly masked under cheap deodorant, the scent of Chad’s pits could never be truly hidden. His mouth waters as the scent washes through him and his whole body contorts in pleasure. When his own pits begin to itch he gasps and for the first time opens his eyes to find an impossibly large cock hanging over his thin thighs. His mouth quivers into a smile as the line between dream and reality shifts muddy.

For now though, for the pit fiend there is only one thing to do. He raises his arm and gasps as he sees his few pit hairs lengthening, while in between each one a few darker curls make themselves at home. Stephen forces his head into the sweaty spot and hungrily sniffs. Nose tickled by the growing jungle he moans as he encounters his own changing scent, currently overcoming his own, usually superfluous, deodorant it is but a pale imitation of Chad’s. Though it races to be something equivalent, no, greater.

He continues taking deep breaths, switching between the candle burning strong and his own pit as his musk continues to heighten and shift. With each needy sniff it becomes clear that his odor is not the only part of him shifting. Previously undeveloped arms cramp as muscle begins to pile on. Veins pulse down their center as biceps that have scarcely known strain burn as muscle fibers break and reform to create an impressive peak.

Stephven’s face suddenly contracts into a smirk that he never quite understood before now as his arms force themselves into a pose. Flexing and exposing his newly hairy pits in what he now knows as a front lat spread, he almost laughs as his heady powerful musk begins to overpower the scent burning off the candle.

Having not actually left the apartment, Chad puts an ear to the door as Stephven’s laughter and moans rise in volume and deepen in tone. He creaks open the door and is almost physically hit with the wave of musk as it pours out like a fog from Steven’s bedroom. His own brand mixing with the steam of sweat seeping from his new bros pits is almost more than he can handle. With every step his mind strains to not just give into his own hunger to pounce on his half-formed bro sitting in the chair.

Hearing Steven’s socks fray and tear as a subtle note of foot funk rises to the top of the candle. Seeing his new partner’s legs fill his young-professional pants to their limit, bulging thighs pushing at and swiftly bursting the strained seams. Chad bites his lip almost to the point of drawing blood as he feels his own thighs cramp. He doesn’t know if he’s somehow growing as his new gym bro continues to edge larger or if he’s simply overwhelmed, if his own mind is too clouded from the hunger and musk.

Chad shambles towards Steven, mouth falling open as he sees the shimmering sweaty traps that have torn his shirt open. His eyes can’t look away from the newly heavy pecs that hang over his defined abs, he fights the urge to lean down and lap at the muscle as Steven delights in bouncing them. Sending cascading shadows across his sweaty core, and gaining more mass with every dancing flex.

Instead, Chad leans in close to Steven’s delirium painted face. “Looks like ya liked my gift after all, huh Steve?” His breath mists across Steve’s face. Its heavy humidity barely overcomes the sweaty atmosphere but the sharp mint and undercurrent of musty breath underneath call to his nose like smelling salts.

His jaw cracks and widens as the changes that have overtaken him finally begin their work on the final frontier. Unable to control himself Chad licks the man’s face as it prickles with stubble. Steve’s nose breaks then reforms, his brows thicken and cast a shadow over his eyes as they lose both their color and clarity. Deepening to brown as their default state becomes glazed and thoughtless.

Feeling Chad’s sticky tongue drag on his cheek, it’s like he was struck by lightning. Every new bulging muscle in Steve’s body flexes at once and he stands to his new height, able to make direct eye contact with the man staring at him, just inches away.

Steve tackles him onto the bed, knocking over the candle and sending wax flying through the air. The pair are sparingly coated in the Chad scented candle as they begin heavily exploring Steve’s new form. As their mouths that have always been left wanting find new delight, whatever shreds of the old Stephen that are left begin to vacate.

The anxieties and priorities of a small meek man who never let his id loose disappear as he positions himself over Chad. He bites his bro’s lip and thrusts downward as he pins the massive man’s hands above his head. Masked by the pleasure of true release, he doesn’t care as his old self washes away. Memories evaporate like the sweat pouring off his form. He delights in maneuvering across Chad’s form and enjoying his musk from the source.

His tongue dances across sweaty pecs that match his own as his collection of classics on a bookshelf disappear to be replaced by free weights. Steve’s nose finally shoves its way into Chad’s pits as his extensive collection of hygiene and beauty products down the hall clatter to the floor and disappear as they’re replaced by a single bar of clinical deodorant only used for special occasions. Sleeves fall off his wardrobe of cardigans and button ups as sweat stains yellow every garment. The tops throw themselves from hangers while musty shorts and jockstraps heap into a pile on the floor.

Sweat drips from his brow as with each thrust into Chad his mind gives up the ghost. Each impossible wave of pleasure erodes his old self, each drop of sweat an idea gone, each rivulet of pre dripping down his veiny cock a sign of his intelligence drained to increase the muscle mass of his new form. After all besides pleasure nothing matters to him nearly as much as his fucking hot bod.

He feels his balls pulse as every remaining aspect of Stephen’s self shoots down and is quickly converted. His eyes roll back as he cums the few specks of self remaining in a massive load onto Chad’s sweaty abs. After a few moments of total mindlessness from the jubilee of release, Steve awakens to find himself atop his bro and simply laughs, “Huhuh woah dude that’s a fuckin’ fat load huh?” He scratches at his hairy chest and grimaces as he imagines how that’s going to hide his gains.

Seeing the thoughts on his face as the two are evermore on the same wavelength Chad pauses rubbing Steve’s cum onto his abs and offers, “Lookin’ a little rough there bro, wanna go top up and then hit the gym?” Steve smirks as his bro basically reads his mind, “Yoooo totally let’s hit it!” He punches down into his bro as he stands, smirking as he watches Chad’s cock bounce before sprinting into the restroom and prepping to get pumped.

The gym starts to clear out as the pair arrive, judging by the musk already following in their wake no one dares risk having to smell what it’s like once they actually start going. Stopping in the locker room the pair stop publicly groping and sniffing each other long enough to take a pre-workout photo, tongues out as ever. When they see some poor soul who didn’t escape the gym quick enough covering his nose they eye each other up.

“Yo dude, looks like lil’ bro over there’s gotta problem with your stink.” Steve performatively sniffs his pit and shakes his head, “Nahnah bro. It’s definitely yours, check it.” They continue to talk up eachothers musk while the young man can’t help but sit there, stunned into silence. With each new statement the pair swagger closer until their sweat may as well be dripping on the man.

Gasping as he regains awareness just as the pair are almost standing over him, the sharp intake fills his lungs with their musk as a smile creeps over his face. “Looks like lil bro’s likin’ it after all Chad.” Throwing a sweaty arm over his bro, the man who can scarcely recall that his bro hasn’t always been like this laughs, “Huhuh, well obviously bro, no shot anyone’ll be able to resist us soon.” The pair help the hazy man up and begin ushering him through the ropes, eager to have another musky jock in their image and excited to see how far their little group will grow.

#male tf #jockification #musk tf #muscle tf #male transformation #mental change #reality change #jock tf

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ahqkas · 2 months ago

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♯ARTSY HANDS AND MINDS ( how would the batboys react to you making your own merch of their alter ego ! )

— gn!reader, bruce & dick & jason — separated, fluff, established relationship, not edited, cursing, bases on this req.

. . . BRUCE WAYNE !

WHEN BRUCE UNLOCKED AND PUSHED the front door of your apartment open, the familiar scent of one of your candles immediately greeted him with warmth and the familiarity of home. he was finally home, with you. it had been a long night, after all, a long night of patrols and late emergency meetings at wayne enterprises. all he wanted was a quiet evening with you, a thing that finally came to him.

the sound of soft humming came from somewhere in the apartment, probably from your living room, much to bruce’s detective skills. he couldn’t help but let a gentle smile grace his face upon the sound as he hung his coat. you always seemed to brighten even the darkest of his days.

but as he rounded the corner to the living space, his smile froze.

there you were, the love of his life, sitting cross-legged on the old, beaten couch ( which bruce insisted on replacing but you didn’t let that happen, something about an emotional bond ) with a black hoodie spread across your lap. a large symbol graced its chest area. the bat-symbol, he realized. smalls jars of fabric paint surrounded your sitting form, and you were holding a delicate brush, adding details to your own craftwork.

bruce was caught of guard.

“bruce!” you gasped his name out when he came into the clear sight, startled. you even nearly dipped the brush in the wrong direction which would mess up with the project you were currently working on. a flush of warmth creeped up your neck. “you’re home early. i thought you’d be at the office for a while.” not that you minded.

“i finished up early,” he hummed and gestured towards the hoodie in your lap. the sight of the symbol, his symbol, stirred something deep within him. “what’s that?”

“oh, this?” your hands awkwardly hovered over the clothing. “it’s nothing, really. just a little project i’m working on.”

your man raised one eyebrow at your dismissal. “that’s quite detailed for ‘nothing’, sweetheart.”

you gave in after a second of thinking, saying to yourself it definitely wasn’t for the petname or the gentle command in his tone. “fine. you caught me. i’m making my own batman hoodie. but before you say anything, let me explain.”

“i’m listening.”

“well, i’ve been a fan of batman for a while now,” you began, eyes watching his face for every kind of a reaction. “not like one of those die-hard fans who camp outside at night trying to take pics of him or anything. just . . . i admire what he does for gotham. he’s a symbol of hope, you know. it’s nice to have someone who actually fights for the city.”

bruce felt a lump form in the back of his throat. you admired both bruce wayne, the gotham’s billionaire darling, and batman, a side of him that came out when the sun went down.

“and,” you continued, “i wanted a hoodie with the bat-symbol because it looks cool, but the official ones are ugly. they’re all this stiff fabric that itches with weirdly placed logos. i wanted something more casual. so, i thought, why not just make one myself?”

his heart skipped a beat once you finished your mini rant, the muscle tightening against the bones of his ribs. you had no idea you were speaking to batman himself, yet your admiration was pure and genuine. it reminded him why he wore the cowl in the first place — to protect people like you, who believed in a better gotham.

“well,” he said after a moment of just looking at you with that special look in the depths of his gaze. “if batman knew how much effort you put into this, he’d flattered.”

“you think so?”

“i know so.”

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

THE LINGERING ACHE IN HIS MUSCLES FROM THE ROOFTOP CHASE he had barely managed to win stained his sore body as he returned from a long night of patrol back home to you. his footsteps were silent, practiced from the countless times he’s done this, when he unlocked the front door to the apartment he shared with you. the lights were still on, spilling the warm light from the living room into the hall.

dick smiled to himself. you always waited up for him, no matter how late he came home from “work”, and it never failed to warm his heart.

to find someone who would do such thing as cut their sleep schedule for him was basically rare, but he managed to.

you were sitting cross-legged on the beloved couch dick himself chose, completely absorbed in your task. the couch has lived its fair share already, but it was well loved and had so many good memories, so you kept it. your boyfriend watched from the doorway as your brows created that adorable little v between them, furrowing in concentration. meanwhile, your hands worked carefully with blue and black yarn. your fingers clutched the unmistakable nightwing plush; complete with the signature blue symbol across its little chest.

you don’t actually know about nightwing. well, you know about his existence, about how the vigilante keeps blüdhaven’s streets safe from criminal activities, and you knew about the package beneath the tight spandex of his suit. what you didn’t know was nightwing’s true identity. you didn’t know how he always made sure to come back home to you, and you totally didn’t know that ass belonged to you.

“uhh . . .” he was caught of guard for a second here. “what are you doing?”

jumping slightly at the sound of his voice, you clutched the half-finished plush close to your chest as if protecting it from his praying eyes. “dick!” your face flushed with embarrassment. “you’re home early.”

he arched an eyebrow at your behavior, his gaze averting towards the digital clock of the tv before it shifted back to you. “it’s almost two in the morning. sooo . . . are you going to explain why you’re making a mini nightwing doll this late at night?”

“first of all, it’s not a doll. it’s a plushie.”

“of course, my bad. plushie.”

“and second,” you started to defend your actions more confidently when you noticed the slightest of smirk gracing his face. he looked tired, the strands of his bangs slightly damp with sweat and his eyes nearly dropping down with how the exhaustion pressed on him. yet he still managed to be all cheeky. “it’s not like i’m obsessed or something. i just — the fan-made ones were too expensive, and honestly none of them were cute enough, so i decided to make my own.”

dick stepped closer to your sitting form, fidgeting with his hands to hide his racing heart. “you’re a nightwing fan?”

you shrugged and started picking at a stray thread on the plushie. “i mean, yeah. who isn’t? he’s cool, and he’s probably the least terrifying out of all the vigilantes in both gotham and blüdhaven. plus,” you paused in the little rant he’d coaxed out of you. “i think he’s kinda hot.”

a loud cough interrupted you the moment those last words slipped past your lips. dick’s ears took on a pink hint, along with a more pronounced smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. the tired look in his eyes was suddenly long gone, too. “you’re a think he’s hot, baby?”

“yeah. it’s not like he’ll know i said that, though.”

oh, you had no idea.

“it’s not perfect,” you shaked the plush in your hands to make a point, “but i wanted it to look right. and i know it’s probably silly, but it makes me feel safe, in a weird way. like, if i ever needed help, he’d show up, you know?”

dick wanted to tell you the truth then and there — that nightwing would show up for you, every single time, because you were his main priority. nothing else mattered but your safety. but he couldn’t. not yet.

his fingers brushed yours instead, tracing the fabric of the yarn with a gentle touch. “i think it’s perfect. and if nightwing ever saw it, i’m sure he would be flattered.”

“yeah, right,” you laughed, actually laughed, and rolled your eyes in that way he adored. “like he’d care about some random plushie.”

he didn’t argue, though a part of him was already planning on leaving a little thank you! note the next time he patrolled near your apartment. for now, he could settle for leaning against your side and pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

. . . JASON TODD !

JASON HAD BEEN IN A RUSH TO GET HOME. the heels of his boots crunched on the gravel beneath him before he shrugged his leather jacket and unlocked the front door to your apartment. tonight’s patrol had been rough — more bullets than he’d planned for and a few bruises he would have to hide later. all he wanted now was to crash on the couch with you, maybe with a shitty movie and some pizza if you hadn’t eaten yet.

he took a step inside, already feeling the tension and ache erasing from his muscles as the familiar warmth of the living space wrapped around him like a blanket. he was finally home.

but when he crossed the threshold into the living room, jason froze right on the spot.

there you were, curled up on the couch, wearing a black hoodie that looked far too big on your frame with a hand-painted crimson symbol on the chest. not just any symbol though — it was his symbol. the red hood insignia stood out vividly against the dark fabric of the hoodie. he couldn’t miss it even if he was blind.

and that wasn’t all. on the coffee table in front of you was a small knitted plushie. its tiny body was simple, but the details were on spot: a small red helmet and a matching chest symbol that mirrored the one on your own chest.

you weren’t supposed to know about red hood. to certain amount of course. jason couldn’t shield you from the outside no matter how much he would like to, but he could shield you from one of his many personalities — the red hood. you weren’t supposed to know about him being red hood. so, he hoped it was still the truth.

“hey, you’re home!” you must’ve heard him come in because you looked up at him with that sheepish smile he grew to cherish, all while holding up the plush up for inspection.

“yeah . . .” he trained off, scratching the nape of his neck. jason didn’t like lying to you any more than he had to, so making up some shitty excuse about where he was and what was he doing was pretty much pointless. instead, he turned the attention to the creations of your work. the hoodie and plushie. “what’s–uh–what’s this?”

you glanced down at yourself like you’d forgotten what you were wearing. “oh, it’s a red hood merch. well, kind of,” brushing a stray hair off the hoodie, you smiled up at him more confidently. “i made these.”

jason’s brows shot up. “you made them?”

“yeah! the official looked ugly—like who designed that stuff? and the fan-made ones were either way too expensive or just not what i was looking for. so, i figured, why not do it myself? and he’s kind of my favorite vigilante.”

he felt his heart skip a beat. your favorite?

what the fuck. “red hood is your favorite.”

it definitely didn’t sound like a question, it was spoken in way it sounded like a statement, but you answered him with a reason anyway. “mhm. he’s a badass. a little scary, sure, but in a good way. like, you know he’s got a soft spot somewhere under all the armor. i caught him feeding the stray cat on our fire escape the other day. it was cute.”

well, he wasn’t exactly careful with the cat, but he didn’t expect the meowing and hissing would catch your attention. stubborn stray.

jason blinked, more caught of guard than feeling the edge of panic. he should panic, you were practically close to discovering your careless boyfriend was red hood. he was at a loss of words. “cute” wasn’t exactly how he’d describe himself — or his alter ego — but he wasn’t about to argue with you. instead, his fingers moved to trace the oversized sleeves of your hoodie, calloused fingertips brushing under the fabric to intertwine your fingers in one.

you didn’t know the truth, and maybe you never would, but as long as you felt safe and protected in his arms, he was okay with it. you were holding a piece of him he’d never given to you, and yet you loved him the same.

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jenanigans1207 · 5 months ago

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What I wanted so badly was for Mary to learn about her boys from Cas. Like that night where Cas finds her when she can’t sleep and she expresses that she just doesn’t know anything about her sons since she missed so much?? All I wanted was for Cas to sit down with her at the table and just start telling her about them. Basic stuff at first: their favorite foods, their sleeping habits, the stuff he’s just observed by being their passenger for years.

And then I want him to say something totally Cas, like “Dean always wears more layers but that’s because his body naturally runs two degrees colder than Sam’s. But that’s normal for him and not indicative of any illness, so it’s nothing to worry about.”

And as they talk, it starts to get a little deeper, and Cas tells her more. He tells her about what she missed, about all the horrible things that happened to her sons and how they coped; how it changed them. And he tells her about Sam, he does, but really it ends up being all about Dean.

He’ll tell her about how Dean clenches his fists when he’s upset, even as he tries to keep his face impassive. About how Dean drums his fingers on the steering wheel when he’s anxious. He’ll tell her about Dean’s nightmares, about the ways he’s chosen to cope. He’ll tell her how to know when to approach Dean and when to give him space, how to gently acknowledge what he’s feeling without pushing him too far.

And with every word he says, Mary’s curious head tilt from when she’d seen them hug in reunion turns into a bone deep type of certainty. Because Cas is telling her things that only someone who paid special attention would notice. He’s telling her things that only someone very, very close to her son’s heart would know.

Cas will tell her the cliff notes of what they’ve been through; will tell her how the whole world looked to Dean and he rose to the occasion over and over again. He’ll tell her about Dean’s doubts in himself and then vehemently declare them as wrong and explain, at length, why. He will tell her about the people Dean has loved— the people who loved him like he was their own— and lost. He will tell her about Bobby, Ellen, Jody, Donna, and Charlie. He’ll tell her about Claire, too, and how Dean stepped up.

And the whole time, Mary will have this realization that oh, she may not have been around to guide and protect her sons, but there was always someone there to care for them and support them when they needed it. She will realize that she and John may have left them, but they were never alone.

But more than that, there was someone there for Dean. Someone picking Dean over and over again while Dean picked Sam, or the world, over himself. There was someone fighting for Dean when he wasn’t fighting for himself. There was someone who saw Dean, and loved him unconditionally.

Sitting across from her, at the asscrack of dawn, filling her in on all the things she missed was every mother’s dream: someone who loved her child with the kind of devotion that would break the world. And from the sounds of the stories she was being told, it did break the world. Someone whose love is entirely untainted and comes without any strings attached.

It’s so clear to her as she listens to Cas talk that Cas loves Dean with no expectations. That loving Dean is something he just does, like he doesn’t know how not to love Dean, like the possibility of not loving him never occurred to Cas. He loves Dean in a way that Mary knows can and will soothe Dean’s sharp edges and battered heart. He loves Dean in the kind of pure way that tells Mary that it will continue to endure and overcome everything without ever diminishing, even the littlest amount.

Mary, through tears, will tell Cas how she always told Dean that there were angels watching over him. And before Cas can make some comment about Dean being the Righteous Man and the interest of most of Heaven, she will place a hand over his and give him a motherly look that will convey all the things she’s not sure how to say— and the things she’s not sure Cas is ready to hear yet. And Cas will flush and look away, mumbling about how her son is very special to him.

And when she pulls him into a hug and murmurs thank yous into his shoulder, she will be comforted in the knowledge that her sons turned out to be wonderful men, and that they managed to stay together through everything. She will be comforted to know that no matter what happens, no matter her shortcomings as she tries to fill a role she never meant to leave, Sam will have Dean and Dean will have Cas.

And this time, when Cas tells her that she belongs here, she will believe him. And she will tell him that he belongs here, too.

And when Dean wakes up a few hours later and wanders in to find Mary and Cas still chatting over the table, he’ll be surprised— but pleased— to find Mary looking more at ease. He’ll be pleased when she gives him a warm hug and pats him on the cheek and tell him with all the sincerity that only a mother can muster that she’s glad that he met Castiel. And when Dean agrees, a little confused, Mary will just smile at him.

“I always said I’d like a third son.” She says, “so give him a reason to take our last name, won’t you?”

And Dean will splutter and turn fifteen shades of red as he steadfastly doesn’t look at Cas but mumbles something that suggests he’s not against the idea at all.

And Mary will laugh again and wink at an equally red Cas before heading towards the kitchen like “Cas said waffles are your favorite, so I hope you’re hungry!”

#mary Winchester could have been a good character #and the Mary&Cas friendship could’ve been everything #Mary deserved to learn about her sons from someone who loved them #and she deserved to see how they were never truly alone #like that whole scene I was screaming for Cas to talk to her #Cas helping Mary navigate the stress of situating herself into her boys life could’ve been so powerful #because he had to do that and he’d know #and Dean having cas to keep going to as he tried to cope with his own side of things???#im just saying #this show robbed us of a lot but this is one thing I feel especially bitter to have missed out on #Castiel #dean winchester #mary winchester #spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas

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micer2012 · 1 year ago

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a reflection on MatPat's plagiarism

Hello, my name is Della, or micer2012, and 2 years ago Game Theory plagiarized three Tumblr posts of mine, making a video that now holds almost 6 million views.

My posts explaining his plagiarism made their rounds on Reddit, Tumblr and Twitter, but despite the Hermits and Pooka commenting on it (generally in support of me or saying they don’t know enough details about the situation to say either way), MatPat and his team have never owned up to anything, and no mention of my name is present on the video. The one Reddit post they made denying it (which was made before my detailed takedown, which they have never responded to (though the mods on the r/GameTheorists Reddit were kind and made sure it stayed up)) didn’t even mention me by name, just referring to me as “a tumblr user”. (Though one of the screenshotted comments in the body of the post does say my name)

This experience was baffling, but it’s overall had a positive impact on my life. r/Hermitcraft gave me a Golden Apple Award (post of the year, 2021). My inbox was filled with excited fans, wanting to ask me questions or pose their own theories, far more than the hate I got. (Though the hate I got from Game Theory fans was VERY funny. I wondered why none of them gave me shit about saying “MatPat misgendered Evil Xisuma” before realizing none of them read that far into the post.)

And getting on a more personal, and much more important note, I met most of my current online friends through this, including my partner. It helped me grow closer with my irl friends as well and gave me an entertaining story that I tell whenever I have the chance. It was one of the first things in my life that really made me feel like my talents, my autistic hyperfocusing and analyzing of things I love, could be valuable. Useful. Exploitable. It blew my mind that MatPat thought an autistic kid’s ramblings about a Minecraft Youtube joke character were good enough to steal. To put an audible sponsorship on. To get 6 million views off of.

And that’s why I’m writing this post, this update years later. As you might’ve been able to guess, Hbomberguy’s Youtube video on plagiarism reopened this wound. It was really hard for me to sit through, it took days of pausing and taking breaks, because I had experienced everything he was talking about firsthand.

In my 10 page long takedown post, I wrote about how his rewording of my sentences made him say things that were incorrect, just like Filip did. The content farm production style that made big companies like Cinemassacre take one creator (AVGN/MatPat) and turn him and his content into a brand, a voice that reads out scripts by other people with other opinions/theories, is a history shared with Game Theory. What really hit me was Harris talking about how big creators only do this to people they think they can get away with doing it to. How they view their victims as lesser, as not deserving of their words, repackaging them as their own to give to an audience that can gain from hearing them, but deserves better than to have to listen to the original victim.

That’s the thing, I 100% think a video version of my theory to expose to a bigger community than “Evil Xisuma Fans on Tumblr” is a great idea!! Near the end of the video Harris talks about how video adaptations of things could be a great market, even an accessibility tool, and I completely feel that about my posts. I wrote them quickly assuming the reader was someone well versed on Evil Xisuma lore, after not even watching most of the CarnEvil series, and the diagrams I made to explain them are even less comprehensible. Harris makes a joke that I completely agree with,

“I’m sure some of my videos would do very well if someone translated them into English.”

I don’t think I would’ve ever made my posts if I didn’t have autism, and a special fixation on Evil Xisuma and Hermitcraft. I made them because I felt the character was being done an injustice, and because I wanted to share with other superfans this theory that might explain it away. I do think that MatPat plagiarizing me was ableist. I used to wonder a lot if this would’ve happened if my posts were articulated better, if they had been peer reviewed, if the posts themselves had been spread to a wider audience before MatPat made his video. At one point when the discourse was fresh (before I had the time to write out my 10 page rebuttal), a bigger YouTuber (100k subs at the time) messaged me and started talking on Discord, interested in possibly making a video on the discourse, but I think my style of typing and general enthusiasm drove him away. You can tell by a single look at my blog (or my original 3 posts!) that I don’t usually type like this. This post you’re reading now has been peer reviewed and edited, and took me hours to format correctly. That video could’ve been huge, the entire outcome of this MatPat situation would probably be much different.

I also used to stress a lot about “being the one who ruined Evil Xisuma’s story”. If you didn’t know, to me S8 Evil Xisuma’s story got wrapped up pretty quickly and unsatisfying (in my personal autistic opinion). (though this might’ve been due to s8 being experimental and ending early with moon big) There was no real culmination of the plot points and arcs going on, and I don’t want to blame myself, but when Xisuma said on stream (when the MatPat thing was first going on) that he didn’t want to focus on the discourse or draw more attention to it, it makes a lot of sense to me that he just wanted to wrap it all up as quickly as possible. For a while I beat myself up about it, of ruining the story of this character I love, but it’s not my fault. If anyone’s, it’s MatPats, but I don’t think it’s useful to just blame someone else. That’s how the story ended up going, and that’s fine. This is Evil Xisuma we’re talking about, their inconsistent lore is what made them such an interesting character. And notably, Pooka made an animation with an awesome culmination of Jeff, the Dreamer, Evil Xisuma, and his own sona’s story, and it makes me so happy to watch. Whatever Pooka does is of course his own choice, but I’m glad he got to give this personal story his own ending (if it is an ending, and not just the start of a new chapter!).

Typing this all out and getting it off my chest has made me feel a lot better. For a while I wanted to make my OWN video essay about Evil Xisuma’s lore and CarnEvil’s lore, actually going episode by episode to explain it instead of just assuming you knew as much about Evil Xisuma as I did. That idea is still not off the table, but MCYT isn’t something I’m that into right now. Maybe if something else comes out about Evil Xisuma I’ll get back on it, but for now I’m fine with letting that go. But I want to make other videos, share other theories and analysis… if I have the freetime I’d love to make YouTube videos, and if I don’t have the time I’ll continue posting to my tumblr and infodumping to my friends. Apparently my infodumping is valuable enough “content” to steal! Writing this out has made me feel a lot better though, I’m really glad I got it out.

If anyone ever wants to talk to me about the things I’m obsessed with, or reach out to me as a source in a bigger discussion about Game Theory or other channels, my inbox is more than welcome :] Thank you for reading!

Sincerely, a tumblr user.

#exiavojtmmc #hermitcraft #matpat #gt #game theory #hc #mcyt #evil xisuma #hbomberguy #plagiarism #james somerton #jeff the minion #mine #micer2012 #hcs9

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wwooyology · 2 months ago

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Blistering Heat | J.WY

「pairing」 : wooyoung x fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.7k

「synopsis」 : you started to notice changes in wooyoung's behavior, it was as if he was avoiding you entirely. he was going into a rut and kept trying to push you away, but you'd be dammed if you'd let him go through it alone.

「genre」 : hybrid!au, fox hybrid!wooyoung, human!reader, a small bit of fluff, smut (honestly just pure filth I'm ngl)

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, kissing, wooyoung goes into his rut (obvi.), clit play, unprotected sex, dom!wooyoung x sub!reader, big dick!wooyoung, rough and messy sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, messy makeout, petnames (baby, babydoll, sweetheart, pup...), biting/marking, licking, blood, slight degradation and praising, EXTREAM breeding, possessiveness, manhandling, dumbification, subspace mentioned, dirty talk, derogatory names (cocksleeve), knotting, creampie, slight cockwarming, reader does say no but only because of pleasure (everything is consensual!), hair pulling, choking, slight breath play, dacryphilia, begging, slight pain kink, forced orgasm, lmk if I missed anything!!

「notes」 : I may or may not have gone just a little stir-crazy with this one 🤓☝ I just started writing, and my fingers wouldn't stop... but here is an additional part for all of those who wanted another fic with fox hybrid!wooyoung!! I hope you enjoy lovelies!

You sat at the kitchen table with a warm cup of tea in your hands as you watched the doorway, a distant look in your eyes. Wooyoung had been acting weird for the past week. It started with him not wanting to be within a certain distance of you, to avoid you at all costs. He even stopped sleeping in the bedroom with you and would lock himself in the guest room without so much as a word. You had tried to talk to him and ask if there was anything wrong, but he would brush you off, saying he was fine.

It was some time after twelve that you saw him creep into the dining room, his fuzzy ears twitching as he looked around. As soon as his eyes met yours, he quickly averted his gaze, trying to push down the overwhelming heat that was building in his gut.

“There’s food on the stove.” You told him, trying to offer him a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Thanks.” Wooyoung felt horrible that he was treating you like this but he’s never dealt with a rut when he was around another person, much less a human or someone he loved dearly. He was worried that he would scare you off.

You let out a deep sigh when he disappeared through the kitchen door. You wanted to understand what was going on, but he was making it hard when he wouldn’t even speak more than two words to you. Setting your now lukewarm tea down on the table, you pulled your phone from the pocket of your cardigan. You were determined to determine what was going on, whether or not he’d tell you.

Wooyoung slipped past you once more with a bottle of water in his hand, his gaze filled with guilt when you wouldn’t even look up at him. Swallowing thickly, he walked out of the dining room and made his way back to the guest room, where he would lock himself in for the next few days.

Opening your phone you went to the first person that you could think of that might have the answers you’re looking for. Hitting the green button you placed the phone against your ear, listening to the rings. After the third ring you heard the line connect before her voice flowed through the speaker.

“Hello?”

“Hey Leila, it’s y/n.” You greeted her with a smile; it had been a while since you’d heard her voice.

“Y/n! How are you?” Leila asked, a chirp in her voice as you heard her rustling from the other side of the phone.

“I’m… okay. I actually had a question.”

“Is everything okay? It’s not the hunters again, is it?” She asked a sense of urgency in her tone to which you quickly reassured her that it wasn’t the hunters, that they hadn’t shown their faces in a while.

“It’s actually Wooyoung.” You started to explain to her everything that had been happening for the last week, and by the time you were done, she had let out a short burst of giggles. Confused, your eyebrows scrunched together, “What’s so funny? I’m actually worried something might be wrong, and I want to help.”

“Babe… he’s starting his rut.” Her words left you stunned because why hadn’t that crossed your mind? But what stunned you even more were the new few words that left her lips, “If you really want to help, the best you can do is offer yourself to him.”

–

Later that night, after getting out of the shower, you walked into your room with your towel wrapped tightly around your body. Just as you were about to grab your shirt, you heard a loud bang from the other room. Panic filled your veins, and you completely forgot about your clothes and darted out of your room.

“Wooyoung, are you okay?” Your voice shook as you knocked rapidly on the guest bedroom door, but there was no response. Listening carefully, you could hear his labored breathing from the other side, which only caused you to worry even more. “Wooyoung, open the door.”

“Go away, y/n.” His voice was stern, but you could still hear the pain underneath. He had to have been fighting this off for a while now and it made you feel guilty that you didn’t notice before.

“I just wanna help Woo.” Your tone softened as you wrapped your fingers around the doorknob, but you knew right away it was locked when it wouldn’t budge.

“You can’t help me; just go back to– ugh!” He was cut off by a groan, and you acted quickly, rushing back to your room to grab the spare key before going back to the door.

“Stop being so stubborn, and let me help!” You scold the boy through the door as you knock, wanting to give him a chance to open it himself before you barged in. However, he didn’t give you a response, but you could hear his low growls. “You have three seconds to open this door before I open it myself.” You tried to sound authoritative, but there was still a slight tremor in your voice from the worry that was digging its claws into your spine.

You heard him grumble something from inside the room but couldn’t quite make it out. Giving him a few more moments, you started to insert the key into the keyhole.

“One.”

“Stop, y/n, I don’t want to hurt you.” You could hear the pain in his voice before the sound of another crash was heard, causing you to jump.

“You’re not going to hurt me, Woo. I trust you.” There was a softness in your tone that lured the fox to the door, his hand resting on the doorknob as he fought his inner turmoil. What if he really did hurt you? Would you forgive him? What if he scared you away? He didn’t think he would be able to live with himself if he did, but– “Please, Wooyoung.”

At the pleading tone in your voice, the last bit of his willpower faded away, and he unlocked the door before tearing it open.

A gasp fell from your lips when he appeared in front of you. His raven hair was a mess, and his ears sat flat on his head as if he were awaiting your lecture. His eyes were trained on your face, a small scowl resting upon his features, but despite all of that, you reached forward, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“God, you’re burning up.” Your voice was soft, your thumb brushing under the skin of his eye. Wooyoung closed his eyes, a low purr emitting from his throat from your touch. Until another sudden wave of heat rushed over his body, and he doubled over.

You cried out his name before rushing to his side, worried that this might just be something more than his rut. Yet when he raised his head, you almost had to step back from the borderline predatory gleam in his eyes. That was also when he noticed that you were in nothing but a plain white towel that barely reached mid-thigh.

Inhaling deeply, you moved closer to him as he rose back up, his eyes never leaving your form. With shaky hands, you reached down for his hand before bringing it up to your neck. Wooyoung’s pupils dilated as he felt your quickened pulse under his fingertips, almost salivating at the thought of biting into your skin. Marking you officially as his and his alone.

“I want to help Youngie.” The slight whine in your tone caused him to let out a low growl before his fingers wrapped around the delicate skin of your neck, pulling you closer to him. A choked whimper fell from your lips as you looked up at him, fingers lazily wrapping around his wrist but making no move to pull him away.

His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation, but all he saw was unbridled lust and need. Leaning his head down just far enough to let his nose bump against yours, he spoke in a low, growly tone.

“Are you sure? Once I start, I won’t be able to stop. No matter how much you beg.” His words send a shiver down your spine. The simple thought of him being so lost in his animalistic pleasure to the point where he’s completely ruining you made your core ache.

You bring your face just centimeters away from his, looking deep into his hooded eyes, “Ruin me then, Woo.”

Those words were the straw that broke the camel's back. His lips surged forward, crashing into yours at a bruising speed. He was moving so quickly that you could barely keep up with him, even as he released your neck.

“Woo…” You breathed out as he snatched the towel from your body, letting the cool air of the room nip at your bare skin. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving sloppy kisses in his wake. His nose pressed right against your jugular as he inhaled deeply, fingers tracing the curves of your body until he got to your hip.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” He growled against your skin as he moved further down, cupping your bare heat in the palm of his hand. A small whimper fell from your lips as he parted your folds, tracing his fingertips along your slit before pressing down on your clit. “Oh, you’re already soaked, babydoll. Does the thought of me ravishing your body turn you on so much?”

“Woo– fuck! Please.” You begged the fox, staring up at him with needy eyes, causing his dick to twitch in his pants, the last bit of his sanity slowly melting away.

Without so much as a word, he lifted your body from the ground before walking over to the bed and throwing you down onto the soft mattress. As soon as your back hit the mattress, Wooyoung was all over you, slotted right between your thighs. His lips traced every curve of your body, licking, nipping, and marking any part of your skin he could reach until you were withering underneath him.

“Youngie.” You whined, fingers threading through his soft locks until you met with the base of his ears. A low growl seeped from his throat as you gently tugged on one of his ears.

“I need to be in you, babydoll. I need to fuck your slutty little cunt until you’re filled to the brim with my seed. Until I’ve bred you properly.” His words came out in a low tone as he bit at your collarbone, slightly harder than before, nearly drawing blood. The sweet sound of your whimper went straight to his cock that was straining against his sweats.

His words left your mind spiraling. The thought of being so full of just him had your aching cunt clenching around nothing. A soft moan fell from your mouth as you pulled him back up to your swollen lips, sealing them with his in a hungry kiss.

“Yours.” You breathed out, eyes half-lidded as he pulled away, “All yours, Woo, please.”

It was then that the last bit of his sanity flew right out the window, his instincts fully taking over as he quite literally ripped his clothes from his body. Your aching cunt quivered at the sight of his throbbing cock, standing proudly against his lower stomach.

“Gonna fuck you so good.” He growled as he took his cock into his hand, using his precum to slide up and down the length. “Everyone will know you’re mine. All mine.”

You barely had time to process what was happening as he grabbed your legs right behind your knees, pushing them up against your chest before you felt him probing at your entrance. A choked moan fell from your lips as he pushed into your needy cunt, his eyes watching as you swallowed his dick whole before he pulled back out.

“W-Woo–” You were cut off by a loud cry when he thrust back into you with an unimaginable force, nearly sending your mind into orbit.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.” He repeated to word like a mantra as he fucked into your tight cunt, barely leaving you any room to breathe. He pressed down on your legs even more until you were damn near folded in half, the smooth tip of his cock pressing right against that spongy spot in your cunt with every thrust.

Tears were streaming down the sides of your face as you tried your best to keep up with his pace, fingers curled into the sheets. A broken mixture of curses and his name rolled off of your tongue, eyes rolling back as you become overtaken with pleasure.

“Your body was made just for me.” Wooyoung groaned, leaning down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss, teeth clashing together as he continued to fuck into your tight hole. “Perfect for carrying my kits.”

You clenched around him as he spoke those dirty words against your lips, swallowing all of your pretty noises. His nails dug into your thighs until they broke the skin, a trail of crimson blood flowing down the side of your leg before dripping onto the sheets. The mixture of pain and pleasure suddenly had you toppling over the edge, your back arching off the bed as a loud moan tore through your throat.

A deep animalistic growl reverberated from Wooyoung’s chest as he fucked you through your high, but never slowing down. Stars danced across your vision as he seemed to pick up the pace, his thrust growing even more harsh.

“W-Wooyoung!” You nearly screamed when his lips latched onto your neck, teeth nipping at your skin. There was no way that you were going to come out of this without any bitemarks, but you weren’t really in the right state of mind to complain.

Your hands flew to his back as soon as he latched onto the junction of your neck, his canines sinking deep into your skin. A sharp cry fell from your lips at the stinging sensation before he withdrew his fang, licking over the wound. Your nails racked against the skin of his back, causing him to hiss, his hips stuttering just slightly but never losing rhythm.

When his low, throaty groans started to turn into high-pitched whimpers, you knew he was close, just needing a little more. Trailing your hand up his back, you ran your fingers through his hair before gently taking his ear into your palm.

“F-Fuck!” He moaned loudly in your ear as he came, shooting thick, hot streams of cum deep inside your walls, his pace slowing just a bit.

Your head fell back against the soft mattress, eyes fluttering shut as his lips continued to wander the skin of your neck and shoulder. You thought he would knot you like he always had before and would call it good, but when you felt him pull away without knotting, your eyes snapped open.

“You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?” His voice was deep as he cocked his head to the side, the blackness of his pupils nearly overtaking the whites of his eyes.

The air was knocked out of your lungs when he flipped your body effortlessly, laying you flat on your stomach. His hands were quick to find your hips, pulling them up until your back was arched the way he wanted.

“I still have so much more to give you, baby.” He chuckled darkly as he pressed his tip against your twitching hole, watching as you eagerly sucked him in. You buried your face into the sheets as he pushed into you with one sharp thrust, his tip pushing right against your cervix.

Tears stained the sheets underneath you as he relentlessly bullied his cock into your abused pussy, his hands tight on your hips. Muffled cries and moans were the only sounds that emitted from your body. Your cognitive function to form words flew right out the window.

“Such a good little cocksleeve,” He cooed, leaned down until his back was pressed against your chest, his lips finding the back of your shoulder. “Taking everything, I give you like a good girl.” The mixture of his derogatory names and praises made your body melt, and if it wasn’t for his hold, you would have surely fallen flat on the mattress.

“Y-Youngie!” You cried out, fat tears falling from your eyes as he continued his relentless pace until your whole body was shaking. “Cumming! ‘M cumming!” Your voice cracked as he fucked you through another orgasm, but once again, his ministrations never stopped, much less slowed down.

White spots started to cloud your mind when he stood up straight once again, using your hips as leverage to fuck into you. Choked sobs left your lips when your body fell into a state of overstimulation. Every nerve felt as if it were on fire.

Moving one hand from your hip, Wooyoung trailed it down the length of your spine before threading his fingers through your hair. With a harsh tug, he pulled your upper body off of the bed, eliciting a strangled moan from your parted lips.

“Look at you, babydoll, such a fucking mess on my cock. Is this what you wanted? Me to fuck you completely dumb? Until the only thought in your pretty little head was my cock? Hmm?” His harsh tone had you quivering in his hold, eyes squeezing shut as you felt another orgasm building up. Letting go of your hair, he grabbed your jaw harshly, turning your head until you were looking at him. “Answer me, pup.” He growled, lips brushing against yours as you whimpered in his hold.

“Y-Yes, I want you to fuck me stupid, Youngie.” You choked out before all the air was stolen from your lungs when his lips crashed into yours. His hand fell from your jaw down to your puffy clit causing your whole body to jolt. “No, no, no, stop Wooyoung! I feel weird.” You cried out as a different type of pressure built up in your lower gut, but he didn’t stop; if anything, your broken pleas only spurred him on.

White spots clouded your vision as that coil in your gut finally snapped, and your release gushed all over Wooyoung’s fingers and cock, even soaking the sheets below your body. It felt like your soul had been detached from your body as he continued to work you through your orgasm, coaxing more and more of your sweet release out of your body.

“Look at the mess you made, sweetheart,” His teasing tone rang in your ears as your head fell back on his shoulder, legs quivering underneath your weight. He moved his hand away from your throbbing clit, allowing you just a moment to breathe before that same hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the soft flesh.

A choked sob tore through your parted lips as he pistoned his hips into yours mercilessly. Your brain felt like it was turning into mush from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. Wooyoung’s fingers tighten around your throat as he buries his face into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent.

“You’re gonna look so pretty all swollen with my kits.” Wooyoung licked a stripe up the back of your neck, “such a perfect mommy.” He cooed as he nipped at your skin, feeling another orgasm of his own creeping up.

“W-Woo…” You whimpered in his hold, your head empty except for the thought of his cock buried deep in you until he was sure his seed would take.

“Gonna make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.” He growled before unexpectedly biting down on the nape of your neck as he came. The sudden infliction of pain pulled yet another orgasm from your spent body, your walls fluttering around his twitching cock, milking him for all he was worth.

Pulling away from your neck, he watched with proud eyes as his mark started to bleed, your sweet crimson blood coating his lips. Your mind was beginning to blank as you slowly came down from your high, only for that peace to quickly be ripped away from you when the fox hybrid pulled out of your cunt.

A small whine emitted from your body when he bent you over once again, pressing your face into the covers. Your jaw fell slack as he pushed his still rock-hard length back into your aching cunt, the mixture of yours and his cum making his movements more fluid.

“Oh, we’re not done yet, baby,” He chuckled darkly, pistoning his hips into yours. The brute force knocked all of the lungs from your body, and all you could do was lay there and take it. The only thought in your mind was Wooyoung’s cock and how painfully good it felt, nudging against your sweet spot.

Wooyoung didn’t stop until you filled to the brim before finally knotting you; the stretch had you cumming for the nth time that night. His arms wrapped around your body as he buried his face in your chest, inhaling your scent. A small pur reverberated from his chest as you ran your shaky fingers through his hair. The world finally felt like it was coming back to you as your body lay there, soaking in each other’s warmth as if you hadn’t been doing that for the past few hours.

“Thank you, baby,” His voice was low as he peppered kisses along the expanse of your chest before resting his chin right between your breasts. You hummed, still not fully trusting your voice, and he smirked before his fingers playfully crept up your side.

“W-Wooyoung!” You choked out his name at the ticklish feeling causing him to chuckle before groaning slightly when he felt that familiar heat bloom in his chest. Noticing the sudden change, you looked down at him in worry, your fingers curling around the nape of his neck. “How much longer will this last?”

Wooyoung took a moment to respond, trying to settle himself before he lost control. He then glanced back at you with worry and borderline guilt, “probably for the next week.”Your head fell back as your eyes fluttered shut, a small groan falling from your lips. This was going to be a long week, but you couldn’t complain. You did offer to help him after all, and by the looks of it, now that he had his hands on you, he wasn’t about to let go.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

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