#I should make names for my other skins too

[enhard]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚 steambound — park sunghoon

: showering with your boyfriend didn’t seem like such a bad idea, but he wanted it to take a different path.

pairing: bf!p.sh x fem!reader

cw: smut, fluff, praise kink, pet names, shower sex, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, sunghoon is so slick but he’s a sweetheart ahh, creampie, the littlest bit of degrading (calling you slut once), aftercare, starts off as a normal shower together but..

ENJOY! (MDNI)

You’re lying with your boyfriend, Sunghoon, in his dorm room bed, lights dim and some quiet ambiental music playing.

“I love you” you hear him whisper, while you’re straddled on top of him resting your head on his chest. “I love you too, baby.” You softly kiss his collarbone.

You sit there in silence cuddling for a few minutes before you groan, lifting your head to look at him. He opens his eyes feeling that you moved. “What’s wrong angel?” You run your hands through his hair. “I need to go shower… but I might fall asleep first…”

“If you shower now, you can sleep even better.” he smiles a bit. “You’re right.” You slowly sit up, stretching a bit before getting out of bed.

You grab your towels and everything needed, and finally head to Sunghoon’s personal bathroom. As you get in the shower, you close the glass door and turn on the water. The hot spritz hits your skin, causing you to get warm again. The whole bathroom starts steaming, the gentle sound of the water circulating throughout the room.

After grabbing your shampoo bottle, you hear the bathroom door open, quickly turning your head towards it… as if you could see through the glass. “Princess it’s just me” you hear your boyfriend say, followed by the sound of the door closing behind him. You get back to your shampoo. “Oh hey, need anything?” you ask. He walks towards the glass door, sliding it open to look straight at you. It surprises you a bit but you just smile. “Could I join you?” he looks straight into your eyes. you look a bit stunned but ultimately nod. “Of.. course.. come on.” You both have seen each other naked before but you never showered together, there’s a first time for anything right?

He takes his clothes off one by one, placing them on the sink before getting in as fast as he can to close the door. The air was chilly outside the shower cabin, especially with how he opened the door so you got chills from it. He stands right in front of you, giving you a small kiss as the water hits his back. he leans his head back to wet his hair, running his hand through it multiple times. You just can’t stop smiling seeing your boyfriend in the shower with you.. something you never thought would happen today.

You stare at him a little bit more, especially his body as he gets it all wet, but after you just mind your own business, turning around and lathering your hair, scrubbing your scalp with your fingertips. “Wait, my love.” he says softly, making you take your hand away. He begins massaging your head, really taking his time scrubbing your hair to the best extent. You just close your eyes, leaning your head back to let him have better access.

“Why couldn’t we do this earlier… feels so good.” you say, smiling. He laughs a bit, insisting on scrubbing the back of your head. “Good thing we are doing it now, you like it?” he leans in to give your shoulder a kiss. “It’s so relaxing, I should try it on you as well..” you say. He moves you to the shower head, letting all that soap rinse off your head, protecting your face by putting his palm on your forehead like an umbrella. “Your hair’s gotten longer. So pretty.” he praises, and you smile. “Isn’t it a pain to wash?” he shakes his head. “Not when i’m washing yours.”

After he rinses well, you turn back around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you, let me wash your hair now.” he does a small nod. “I love you more. Let me get you my shampoo.” He says, leaning forward to grab his own bottle, handing it to you. You take it, spurting a small amount of shampoo into your palm. You emulsify before applying it to his soaking wet hair. You struggle a little to massage it real well into his hair, raising yourself up on your toes. “You’re too tall, I can’t reach that well.” you sigh, and he resolves it by sitting down on the small shower bench incorporated in the shower cabin. You easily have access to his hair now, so you continue scrubbing with your fingers. You get all in behind his ears, the back of his head and his favourite spot, close to his forehead. He lets out a few groans, the sound of the water blending into the background.

You continue smiling while insisting harder on it, circling around and moving back and forth. He closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling too much. “Never thought you would love this so much, baby.” you tease, and he bends his neck in all ways to get you to massage everywhere. “Why do you think I always fall asleep to your head massages?” he asks. “Oh that’s right. You’re so cute.” you smile.

You continue your massage for a few more minutes, and when you stop he whines. “Mm.. is it already over?” he pouts. “You can always get more, just ask. Now let’s wash up before someone scolds us.” you tilt your head.

He suddenly grabs your waist, pulling you towards him. He gives your tummy multiple kisses, getting closer and closer to your navel.

“You’re tickling me.” you giggle, grabbing onto his shoulders. He looks up at you, giving your abdomen one last kiss before standing up. He towers over you again, grabbing the soap you’re gonna use for your bodies. He lathers the soap in his hands, before rubbing them on your abdomen. He soaps up your stomach real good before moving up to your chest. “Can I?” he looks up at you. “Of course, can touch me anywhere.” you both smile. He brushes his hands over your nipples, gently cupping your tits. He plays with them a bit, not even being able to wash you like he swore he would. You look up at him as he’s absorbed in your tits. “Got a little distracted?” you laugh. He shakes his head, massaging them a bit before moving up to your collarbone. “My bad… it’s hard to stay focused when you look so attractive.” he bites his lip. “You’re so hot when you say that. You can continue.” and he nods. He moves his hand down your arms, immediately jumping to your legs. He kneels down, giving you a smile before tracing his palms along your hips. You smile back at him, grabbing his forearm. He leaves bubbles all over your thighs, making risky circles around your inner thighs. He moves down your legs to your feet. After he’s done, he makes you turn around. “Let me wash your back too.” he says.

He continues by lathering your back with more soap, scratching it for you. He moves down your lower back to your ass, where he grabs it without any warning. He squeezes it a few times, before moving his hand down your pussy, rubbing his fingers on your core making you jump. “Hoon… what are you doing..” you say, barely resisting his movements. “Let me make you feel good.” he says, rubbing them forward, reaching your clit. Your legs slightly part, letting him circle your clit the best he can. You let out a small moan, leaning your head back. He rubs his fingers back and forth again, stopping at your core to insert both his fingers inside you. You really moan now, grabbing onto the wall. He pumps his fingers inside you while squeezing your ass with his other hand. “You’re doing so well for me, princess.”

You shut your eyes, beginning to struggle on his fingers. “Sunghoon that feels.. so good. Faster… please.” he nods before picking up his pace, curling his fingers right onto your g-spot. You let out a screech, leaning your head forward now. “Right there… oh my… i’m—” you get cut off by another moan. He smiles hearing it, reaching to rub your clit again with his other hand. You’re shaking under his touch and he can’t help but get hornier as time goes on. It doesn’t take long before you reach the edge, trying so hard not to finish before warning him. “I’m..gonna.. cum.. please..” you cry out. He keeps his pace constant, allowing you to finish. “Doing so well for me, my love. You’re so perfect.” he praises. You bottom out on his fingers, grasping the cold tiles as hard as you can. Your shaking orgasm washes over you as he pulls his fingers out. “There we go, pretty girl.”

You pant against the wall, before slowly turning around to face him. You grab onto his built arms, squeezing his skin. “Let me wash your body now, that’s what we were doing, right?” you give him a slight smile while looking into his eyes. He stares at your lips, nodding.

You grab the soap again, lathering it in your hands before running your palms all over his pecs, down to his abdomen. You move your hands up and down, feeling every inch of his body. You move up to his shoulders, going down his arms, grabbing his biceps with every occasion. “You’ve gotten so built, no?” you say. “You like it? I’ve been going to the gym with Jay lately.” you raise your eyebrows. “Oh really? I should see you work out soon, then.” you move your hands to his forearms, then intertwine your fingers with his. “Would you be able to resist?” he teases. “Can’t promise anything.” You shrug your shoulders and he smiles.

You jump dangerously close to his v-line, tracing your fingers on the dented lines in his skin. “Are you gonna let me go lower?” you look up at him. “Maybe, if I hear you say please.” he caresses your cheek. You roll your eyes.

“Please let me give you a handjob.”

He stares into your eyes for a moment, then he just gives you a slight nod. You smile, already grabbing his half-hard cock. Stroking it, you can feel it getting more erect with each stroke. By the time he’s fully hard, you’re already picking up your pace, squeezing his tip every time you reach it. He stands there, juggling between looking at you and looking at your hand. The water hits his back once again, washing away all the soap you distributed on his abdomen. “Keep going.” he says in a cool tone, making sure you keep that pace he loves so much. You nod, smiling down at his swollen cock. You place your hand in his abdomen, feeling the strings of water running down his skin, now making contact with your fingers. You feel every muscle under his skin, squeezing at his pecs as usual. He lets out low grunts, licking his lips a few times. “How is it, baby?” you ask. He closes his eyes. “Feels good. Do think.. your pussy would feel better.. though..” he slightly whispers, his words getting interrupted by the sound of the water anyway.

“Oh yeah? wanna test that theory out?” you say, grabbing at his tip again and he flinches. “Fuck— yeah… let’s do it..” You both smile at each other. You take your hands completely off him, letting him do the work now. However, you see him just standing there.. actually waiting for you to do something. “…Well? aren’t you gonna throw me around, mr. strong man?” you say sarcastically, and he immediately pulls you into his embrace. He grabs your waist tightly as he gives you a small kiss. “Let me take care of you.” You smile at him, not expecting such an answer at this moment but.. your boyfriend has always been nice to you. “I don’t mind that either..” you say, giving him another kiss.

He uses his hands to slowly turn you around, tilting his head to pepper kisses all over your neck, wet sounds escaping his mouth with each kiss. He pushes you against the cold shower tiles, glueing your chest and cheek to it. He continues kissing your neck, to your back until you start whining for more. “Hoon.. please…. I need you so bad.” you say. He smiles before replying. “You’re so impatient.” He grabs your ass, fondling it before grabbing his cock to grind against you.

He teases your wet pussy multiple times with his tip. He stops right at the entrance, slapping your ass with his other hand while doing so. “Inside… please.. please.” you beg. He kisses your shoulder, slowly shoving it inside you as you go. Once he gets his whole length in, he stops for a few seconds to let you adjust, beginning to thrust only when he knows you’re ready. “You’re doing so well my love. You always take it so good.” he praises. You leave out little noises, really letting him feel your insides, spreading your legs more and more with each thrust of his.

He’s going slow, but deep. It feels way more intimate this way, with his nose so close to your ear, you can hear his interrupted breathing mixed with the sound of water. You enjoy it quite a bit, sneaking your hand down to your clit just to circle it multiple times. Your moans pick up their intensity, the sound getting overbearing even for the water. “You’re lucky we’re doing this in the shower, you’re louder than usual, baby.” he says. You nod against the tiles, arching your back even more against him. “Go faster..” you plead, and he does. He significantly changes his rhythm, making your thighs shake already. The sound of your skin slapping is getting enhanced by the wet environment, however you’ve both grown to love that sound. You start bouncing yourself on him, and he stops thrusting to let you do just that. You push your ass back and forth on him, wrapping around him so well.

He slaps your ass again, making you flinch. “Such a good girl for me, didn’t know you were this desperate.” he smiles. “I need you so bad.” you say, almost drooling on your own words. You speed up even more, grabbing the tiles with both hands now, putting all your force into swinging yourself. Sunghoon leaves out a moan, grabbing your waist with one hand. That sudden change caught him off guard, making him bottom out again. “Fuck, that feels so good. You’re gonna make me cum soon.” he says. You smile widely hearing that wishing for that as bad as ever. He moves his hand from your waist to your clit, his slender fingers exploring your upper folds, going forward to your clit again, rubbing, slapping and abusing it until you become a moaning mess as you fuck yourself onto him.

He leans forward, really pushing your body downwards into a somewhat doggy position. He grabs one of your tits with one hand, keeping his other fixated on your clit. “Already tired? Come on, keep going.” he speaks when he feels you slow down. “I can’t d..do it anymore..” you cry. “Oh really? my poor girl can’t whore herself out on me cause she’s tired?” he teases and you cannot stop moaning and shaking your head. “Let me lend you a hand.” he says, before successfully keeping you in place, before thrusting into you like never before.

He has a speed that he didn’t think he could reach, he’s fucking you so fast you barely have time to react. The slaps are so frequent you’re both surprised how nobody came to see what was going on. Must be better that way anyway, cause Sunghoon’s busy making both of you feel good. You finally clench around his dick, leaving out moans so hot its driving him insane. “Hoon… I need.. to ..cum..” you gulp. He keeps his pace consistent, breathing through his mouth already. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and cum all over like I want you to.” he leads you on. With a few more rapid thrusts, you finish, legs shaking under him. You thought you were gonna slip and fall, but he’s holding you firmly.

“Oh..God..” you whisper out. He smiles at you, getting closer to his release as well due to your constant movement. He pounds into you like an animal, barely caring about anything that’s happening around him. He always does this when he’s about to cum, making sure that you feel the most satisfied beforehand. He leaves out moans more frequently, his pace definitely getting more inconsistent. “Baby.. please..” he begs out not being able to finish his sentence. “Cum inside me… come on..” you say breathlessly. He follows your orders with no objections of course, coming undone with a few more thrusts. He grabs your hips tightly while leaving slow thrusts as he cums inside. He jerks his head back, closing his eyes in pleasure. After his high calms down, he pulls out, giving his cock a few more strokes.

You both breathe heavily, part of his cum oozing out of you rapidly. You don’t worry about it too much, knowing you’ll wash yourselves up anyway. The night followed with yet another round of a shower, a normal one this time, where Sunghoon really took his time making sure you know you’re loved, hugging you, kissing you, washing you up real well.

“I love you so much.” You look at him with admiration.

“I love you more princess. Now let me wash those breasts.” He says, focused.

“Hoon, you already lathered them in soap 2 times.” You giggle.

The night ended with lots of cuddles in bed, feeling so tired after two things that make you sleepy at the same time, showers and sex.

[sinofwriting]

Faking It - Max Verstappen

Words: 850 Summary: Max finds out his girlfriend faked an orgasm. Note(s): NSFW, Talks of Sex, Mention of Semi-Public Sex. Part of a kind series where drivers find out reader faked an orgasm.

Max pauses just before the entryway to the living room. “Have you ever y’know?” His brows furrow at the vague question from his girlfriend’s best friend.

“Have I ever what?”

“Faked it. Have you ever faked an orgasm?”

She scoffs, “Before Max, yes.”

His cheeks turn a bit pink at the conversation he was overhearing, but he also stands a bit taller.

He knew that their sex life was good, that she was getting orgasms, they had of course talked about it, but it was different hearing her talk to someone else about it with no idea he was there.

His brows furrowed in confusion when she speaks again, “well, I don’t really know if it counts as faking it.”

“What?”

“I mean, there’s been a few times when we’ve had sex where I didn’t orgasm.”

His mind starts screaming at him, because what? He always made sure she came, usually before he did.

“Not because it wasn’t good or because I didn’t want to. I just couldn’t.” He can practically see the shrug she gives. “The sex was still good though.”

“Y/N!” Her friend screeches and it breaks up a little through the phone.

The words replay in his head as he goes back to their bedroom, lying down on the bed. He tries to think of when she would have faked it but nothing comes to mind. He’s so wrapped up in his head he doesn’t hear her call his name or get onto the bed until she’s laying down on top of him, his arms instinctively wrapping themselves around her.

“What you thinking about?” She asks, pressing kisses to his jaw.

It normally relaxes the feeling of her lips pressed against his skin but not quite where he wants them, a lovely prelude to before she kisses him, but he can’t get past what he heard and he’s never been practically shy.

“When did you fake it? Having an orgasm with me?”

Her fingers pause where they had begun to lift his shirt to slide under. “Max, it’s not a big deal.”

His frown deepens and he’s pushing her upwards so they can look at each other. “Yes, it is. I always thought that I made you orgasm, usually first. And now I’ve found that isn’t true.”

She shakes her head. “You do! I promise you do.”

He doesn’t say anything and she sighs.

“It’s only happened twice.”

He doesn’t know if he’s relieved that it only happened twice or pissed that he failed twice. It should have never happened but twice was far too much.

“The first time was after the FIA gala last year.”

His eyebrows furrow, “But you talk about that night a lot.”

“It was a good night. I felt good, amazing. I loved everything we did, I just wasn’t able to orgasm. I didn’t feel unsatisfied or anything. Especially not with my wake-up call.”

He smirks at the reminder of the next morning. He had woken up just as the sun was rising and had ducked under the covers and ate her out until she was begging for him to stop. His jaw and tongue had ached for hours after, but it was worth it for the taste of her stayed just as long.

“The second time was in China. I just couldn’t stop thinking about what if someone walked in.”

“So, I didn’t fuck you good enough.”

She slaps his chest lightly, sending him a disbelieving look. “I was limping a little after. And you're lucky I was wearing those heels and everyone believed me when I said I twisted my ankle.”

“I’m sorry.” Max apologizes again, picking up her hand and kissing it. He still felt a little bad that their first foray into semi-public sex had been so rough. “Why didn’t you tell me though? That I didn’t make you come?”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal to me.” She tells him. “I love having sex with you, it always feels good regardless of me orgasming or not. And in those two instances I was just happy to be that close to you.”

He stares at her, looking deep into her eyes. He still feels like he’s failed but the way she’s looking at him, all gentle wide eyes filled with truth. “I’ll let it go.”

She snorts and he covers her mouth with his hand.

“But only if you tell me next time. Just so I can immediately make it up to you.” He says, removing his hand as he says the last word.

“Okay, I’ll tell you next time.”

“Thank you.” He murmurs, pressing their lips together.

She hums into the kiss, her one hand slipping out of his and returning to the hem of shirt, drawing it up so she can slip her hands underneath and his stomach flexes at the feeling of her fingertips and he’s rolling them over. Easily putting himself in between her legs.

“Feel like making a mess for me?”

She lets out a happy little sigh, teeth lightly sinking into her bottom lip as she nods. “Please?”

“Of course.”

[dilf-docs]

So Is it Your Place Or Mine?

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: summer is over, but your affair with joel isn't (or, you grind on joel's belt buckle while sarah is at soccer practice)

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., exhibition kink (sarah is again a victim of this), brat taming (this two are soo into it), degradation kink, praise kink, lwk breeding kink, daddy kink (wow! it's a whole library of alexandria of kinks in here), fingering, dad bod!joel (best joel you mean), angst (oh guys look oh no it's alr starting), dirty talk!!!!! (they're so dirty ew i want it too wait who said that)

word count: 3,701 words

side note: and it became officially a series. hope u all are into this as much as i am because it's my first series ever !!!!! ALSO angst finally makes it way in this mess LET'S GO (i'mcrying i really looked up big texas belt to come up with a mental image in the middle of class, i'm so sorry to whoever sat behind me but idc abt me writing smut while at uni; we die like real men)

part: prev | masterlist | next

"What do you mean you're not coming?"

It's been an unspoken rule that, even if you hate sports and the ball stays ten meters away from you, you always come to Sarah's soccer practice, cheering for her from your usual spot at the benches.

Except today, you aren't there. And now Sarah is calling you when she shouldn't, but that she doesn't know.

"I can't. I have stuff to work on stuff"

Bullshit.

Your laptop and the half-written essay sit untouched at the coffee table. The thing being touched in question, is something entirely different.

"Need help?"

His hands grip any free spot of your glistening skin, sucking on the rosy pink until it turns maroon red.

"I'm at my dorm, sorry"

Double bullshit.

Sarah doesn't even know your car is parked next to her dad's truck. She has about four hours to find out.

"I can drop by later then" she suggests.

His hot breath tingles against your neck as his nose caresses the spot. Bad girl, he mouths, like he wasn't the one who told you to pick up, despite his daughter's name on the caller's ID. You try to reach for a kiss, but his digits press on your hair, pulling you back with violence to forbid your lips from touching his. Bad girl, and your arousal drips with more intensity at the remark. Bad girl.

"No!" the answer comes quick, your voice strained, and Sarah jokes that you should take it easy with your classes, instead of suspecting anything else.

"Fine! I won't go if you don't want me to, but if you show up dead by stress, I'll be free of guilt"

He kisses the outline of your jaw with sloppy movements, like he just wants to busy himself while Sarah blabbers about the practice, and you keep trying to make her stop, but she tells you not to worry, that she's on a break right now, and the task to avoid whimpering at his rough kisses across your neck becomes increasingly difficult. A gasp escapes your lips when his teeth sink into your flesh. Mine, not to be said but to be felt. Seen by the rest. A pretty red that tastes like the blood he craves, the hunger akin to violence. Bad girl, and he's biting your lip to stop any other filthy noises from escaping. What if she hears?

"Are you okay?" concern laced on Sarah's tone. Guilt creeps through the cracks of the worn-out paint of his bedroom, one your friend had practically begged him to restore; the joke of it all was that was about his job yet he couldn't fix his own goddamn house. "Y/n, did you hurt yourself?"

I'm treating you well, ain't I, doll? and then he'd grin against the crook of your neck before looking at you, his dark blown-wide pupils gazing at you with a hunger you didn't think it was possible. They'd burn, and the fire didn't scare you: it was the warm your cold body needed. Tell Sarah her daddy ain't hurting her slut of a friend.

"I-I'm fine" you manage to choke out. Good girl.

Joel's lids feel heavy as a crown. But you like 'em rough, don't 'cha, baby?

"Should I worry?"

Joel pulls harder, your scalp burning at the harsh tug. Answer when I ask. You breathe in heavily, and Sarah keeps on asking you if you're okay, threatening to burst through a dorm door she'll find empty.

"N-no" you meekly answer, and he laughs at your demeanor. Under his weight, pinned down on the mattress, there's nowhere to run to.

"Is it okay if I-"

"Sarah I need to hang, okay? My head hurts. Bye" it all comes down in a rush, the words a vomit of excuses. You make sure the call has ended, and so does Joel, that in an act of mercy, has stopped. You both look the screen until the lockscreen is back up again, a picture of you and Sarah. Despite used to having his weight on top of you, your throat feels constricted.

"Do you want to traumatize your daughter, Mr. Miller?"

He's back at his task of kissing, making you moan and writhe at the sensitivity of your kissed and bit skin during the last hour. You hate how he takes his time―edging you; unbearable.

"What I want is you"

The lie comes out effortlessly from his teeth. He wants you, needs you, but does he really want you? His daughter's best friend, the college girl he was going to lecture just last summer―to live life and forget about him, yet couldn't. He lies to himself, saying he didn't because you felt asleep, but feeling a warm body next to him, being your beautiful frame of all people, made it hard.

The way he makes a moaning mess out of you, how he knows every spot of your body no one had been able to please before, how your cunt stretches perfectly around his cock, how you call his name like no one else had done. It belongs to you now, and this is a vice.

It's like he's got a wound, and you're the only balm that can soothe the pain. But the effect is temporary, and after you leave, he always finds himself wanting more.

The doubt on his eyes has your heart beating out of fear.

"Then have me, Mr. Miller" you dare.

When Joel smiles, barely noticeable, something flutters in your stomach.

"Al'ight, impatient one. We have sum hours until Sarah's back. Spread" his hand nudges your thighs apart, and you oblige, making Joel chuckle at your obedience. "Good girl, baby. S'good f'r me"

You let out a gentle moan at the praise, and he smirks at your reaction.

"Feelin' desperate, are we?" he taunts, seeing your pretty lips parted and face flushed, a whine escaping them.

"Shut the fuck up and just kiss me already" you beg, pussy throbbing painfully.

"Damn brat" he hisses, "ain't you such'a needy greedy slut?" his finger hooks on your panties, tugging you closer into him, your body rising to clash against his softer frame that has nothing to do with his rough demeanor. You can feel the bulge that has formed through his pants, making you moan in delight.

"Sorry, daddy. I'll be a good girl" you squirm under his weight, pouting lips and batting eyelashes. "Please, kiss me. Pretty please, daddy"

"Jus' cus you asked well" but he knows it's an excuse to capture your sweet lips until he's tasted all of you. You once heard old men kiss like they want to devour every inch of your mouth, to make space for their tongue like it's going to live in there, and they were right.

He pulls away from the kiss to pull out his shirt, revealing his soft body. Your hands itch, immediatly reaching for it with wandering fingers. He chuckles at the eagerness, but then he catches the subtle adoration in your eyes, and his breath hitches, heart stopping.

"What's wrong?" you look up, and it's gone. Maybe he imagined it.

Joel doesn't know why he feels dissapointed by it.

He tries to push the thoughts back, head diving down between your breasts, leaving sloppy kisses and messy trails of saliva with his tongue on each one. He gives a special lick to your hardened nipples, making you squirm.

"Gonna bend y'r fuckin' sexy little body on this sheets. Gonna make you cum all'over, until y'r scent is'mpregnated on 'em"

You groan at his words, fingers pulling down the pajama shorts you brought over, revealing your pretty black laced lingerine.

"Fuck, baby. You wore 'em for me?" he's asking, and you'd be crazy if you think the tone reveals devotion. Is Joel even capable of warmth?

He leaves a new trail of kisses, this time, running from your neck to your stomach.

"Gonna make you scream my name 'til that's the only thin' you know how to say" his hot breath tingles over your abdomen. He buries his face in there, the mustache and scruffy graying hair tickling the skin. "Gon' give you such'a load, this flat stomach of yours will be bustin' with my seed"

You whine at his filthy words, mouth agape slightly. He looks at your soaked panties, arousal on clear display now. Joel's cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.

He lets out a low growl. "Look at you, such'a slut for me. Drippin' wet like a fuckin' whore and desperate, when I ain't even touch you"

To prove so, Joel teasingly runs his fingers along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your soaking core.

He pulls your underwear down, taking them off.

"M'gonna fuck you real good, baby" his fingers dig on your thighs for support, the burning sensation of his calloused digits on your soft skin delicious. "Gon' take care of what's mine"

Mine.

The words ring loud and clear. The only other noise to be heard is his lips leaving wet sounds against your thighs. Does Joel even realize what he said? Or was it in the heat of the moment?

No, wait. Stop. Why do you care?

He begins to rub circles in your clit, coating his fingers in your dripping arousal, prodding the tense needy hole, making you moan in desperation.

"Please, daddy" your lips cry as you beg for him to do anything to remove the pain in between your legs.

"Please, what?" Joel teases, voice raspy. He keeps prodding your center, his digits in and out in a gentle manner, contrasting his hard hold on your thigh. You squirm and whine at the sensation, but maybe it's the dark on his eyes that's really responsable for making you shrink under his gaze. "Think 'm doin' this for ya'? To please ya'? No, baby" he tuts, "you were a bad girl. Almost got caught"

"If you didn't make me answer" you seethe, a moan almost escaping your lips when his fingers hit that sweet spot of yours. "Maybe if you didn't, she wouldn't-"

Joel removed his fingers from you, and you reduce to a moaning mess, begging for the release you were chasing and now it's lost.

"But you wanted'er to know, didn't ya'?" he unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his worn-out jeans, revealing a barely concealed neediness on his side. "Wanted'er to know where 'er slut of a friend was: at daddy's house, beggin' for his dick like a cockhungry slut"

"I-I want it. Want you dick" you barely choke out, lips parted at the sight of his pulsating dick's silhouette under his brief.

"Then take it, hungry one"

His tip buries deeply into your cunt before you even speak again, sliding inside in one swift motion. You gasp, as he fills you up completely, because despite the way your cunt stretches for him, or the way you have had his dick and need it, his girth never fails to amaze you.

"D-daddy" you moan, walls stretching to accommodate his size. Your sweet arousal drips down your thighs, coating Joel's balls. Fuck, doesn't he love to see you squirming under him. He's never had a woman like you before, wrapped around his finger. You may be a girl, but God, you feel so much better around his dick than anyone else: your cunt tenses around his cock deliciously, his dick twitching when he takes a look at your legs shaking and fucked out state.

"That's it, pretty girl. Beg for'it"

His words go straight to your core as you moan. "Please. Let me take all of you, Joel, please"

You said his name. Fuck. He shouldn't be this aroused, but the way you say it like that's the only thing you know, like it means something more, it makes his dick throb and heart sting. That he, Joel Miller, old bitter man, single dad, could mean more to a young pretty girl like you.

"Fuck" he grunts, grabbing a handful of your hair as he begins to pull out slowly, plunging inside of you with harsh movements. The sound of skin clapping is obscene as he begins to fuck you mercilessly. "Ain't you a noisy lil' thing, huh? You like that, baby? You like it rough?"

Your voice comes out shaky. "Y-yes, daddy. F-fuck, just like that. I like it a l-lot"

"Good girl" he grins satisfied with your respone, his thrusts getting rougher and messier. "Lookin' s'pretty with my dick's inside of you"

Joel changes angles without telling you, brushing your g-spot. A noise so loud and vulgar comes out of your parted lips, and you feel ashamed.

But then he's brushing a strand of hair from your face, with a delicacy you've seen reserved for his daughter only. It feels weird, and you try that it doesn't distract you from your looming orgasm.

"Joel..." you breath out his name.

"Yes?" with everything coming out of his mouth: possesiveness, neediness, pleasure. Like he'd give you the world if you just ask, despite telling himself he wouldn't.

"K-keep going"

Your gaze bores into his eyes with an intensity that almost makes him stop. Because the words are simple, but Joel's been alive enough on this Earth to know it doesn't mean just that.

Keep going. Don't stop. Don't end this. Don't let me go.

"Whatever m'princess asks if she asks 'em nice"

You scream in pleasure as his thrusts become deeper, his balls slapping against your cunt, as your slick begins to run down your thighs. Joel thinks he's going crazy at the way your folds take him, how tight you feel, and the loud noises you make, begging him to fuck you harder, to use you. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, writhing under his touch as you begin to see stars.

"You close, aren't ya'?" he laughs, but it's devoid of mockery. A subtle softness hides behind them. Ask nicely, and I shall give. "Gon' cream 'round my dick like a good girl, right?"

His digits dig in the flesh of your hips, guiding himself to fuck you harder, for you to take him better, caging your body under the sheets, pushing you even closer to your orgasm. You mewl loudly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the delicious burn.

If you told yourself a year ago you'd be crying over Joel Miller's dick, of all people, you'd probably laugh. But no college boys had been able to please you, less bring you to tears as you reach your orgasm. This is heaven, and you aren't ready to say goodbye to the paradise you found in summer just yet.

Your core tenses around him, body so close to finishing, hair a mess, eyes brimming with tears, and lips spilling the filthiest sounds ever heard to humankind. It's heaven, and Joel isn't ready to give it up just yet. Your pussy throbs, and as your juices mix as one, you roll your eyes and head back, your high approaching, knot in your stomach tightening faster. Before you can register, your mind goes blank and you're seeing stars.

You come around his cock, coating it in your arousal as Joel admires how you cream his member, tight walls almost pushing him out of you. He groans at your simmering cries, some tears coming out of your eyes.

"What'e fuckin' slut, baby. You sure are somethin' else" he chuckles, his thrusts messier by his own high approaching. "Wait for me, yeah, baby?"

You humm, as he buries deep into you, filling you up completely, as his hips stop their harsh movements when he feels the tension in his abdomen release.

"Fuckin' sweet" he uses a finger to clean some of the slick that's run down your leg. "Good girl"

He licks them off in an obscene display, making sure to never break contact.

"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna become a real bad girl" you taunt.

Then he pulls out of you carefully, doing his best not to spill too much of his load from your cunt. He grabs one of the corners of his sheets, cleaning some of his seed from your thighs. Joel should be careful, but all his foggy mind can muster is you being his in every way he can. Making you his. Mine. Mine. Mine. You plead him not to do that, but he argues laundry day is soon and he likes it better when it smells like you anyway. You confess with a cute light blush in your cheeks that you do the same when he comes over to fuck you in your dorm, sleeping better when the covers smell like him. He shouldn't feel like this: like it could be. But he allows himself to, even for an instant.

"Oh, yeah?" he pants, "what you gon' do?"

Your eyes travel to his jeans and untied buckle he hadn't wasted time taking off, rather just pulling them down.

"I have something in mind..." you wander off, remembering filthy thoughts of your first night together, how you briefly thought about it. "I-" you cut off, blushing furiously.

"Yes?" he holds your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him as his rough fingers press on the skin. "Remember what I told ya', baby? To ask nicely? 'Cause you said you'd be a good girl, so be one and tell daddy what'd ya' want"

You gulp, trying to hold his gaze. You never back down. You never back down. But the intensity of the shinning copper makes that insufferable character of yours to be tamed, boiling against the surface but just scratching, all screams lost. Is like he knows this power over you, acting on it with a benevolence so sick, it has you thinking loving Joel Miller isn't impossible.

You never back down, but being with Joel feels like walking over stones, always thinking about the next step and the ones that were, ghosts of the lingering doubts and afterthoughts behind every step you take. It's like there's a river below them, washing away regret.

But you're still here: water up your knees then and now over your head.

You're barely floating. You'd be willing to drown anyway.

"I want to ride your belt buckle"

There's silence in the other side, until its met with a light chuckle.

"Yeah?" Joel keeps on laughing, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "S'that what that filthy head of yours be thinkin' on?"

"Stop it" you groan, covering your hot face with your palms. You wish you could erase that ugly smirk off his face. "I'm never telling you anything again, ever"

"Now c'mon, baby. I was jus' messin' 'round" his tone adquires a soft edge to it, tender warm hands removing yours from your face. "Don't cover your face, baby. You're too goddam pretty" you blush, and Joel better resist the urge to kiss you just for the sake of kissing you. "I didn't mean to make fun of ya'. You know y'can tell me anythin' that's goin' inside that head of yours"

"Then you'll let me?" your pretty eyes look up to him, shinning like the stars of the summer night sky months ago.

He can't deny you anything, and a small crack of fear wounds his impenetrable heart.

"Get'ere you filthy slut"

You eagerly climb onto his lap as he sits against the beds headboard, your thighs pushing against his belly.

"Now" he tries to put in a more comfortable position, his tired joints creaking. He avoids your gaze, coughing over his blush. "You do all the job, baby. I ain't gonna help you, this greedy pussy took all of my energy"

You giggle, moving until your bare pussy clashes against the cold. A shiver runs down your spine, the dried juices moistening again over the metal piece. His hands move to your hips, hands now soft as they hold you, and he seems unsure of it, both of your breaths coming out ragged.

"You said you weren't gonna help" you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. His face feels closer, and you can see lines time has marked across his features. "But thanks, daddy"

His heart takes a dangerous leap.

"'Course, baby" he smiles. "You know I spoil ya' too damn much"

You begin to roll your hips, sliding your pussy over the cold material, your arousal making a wet slick sound that bounces off the walls, a shiver down your back as you feel your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.

"Mmm, can't say no to me, can you, baby?" you mock, rocking your hips back and forth. A shaky breath escapes your parted lips, and Joel feels his renovated dick spring hard. You moan, your ass barely touching his now tense member.

"Quit runnin' that mouth of y'rs, baby" his digits dig on your skin, "or I'll bend ya' over again"

"Sorry, daddy" you feel the metal star on the middle digging inside your pussy, the borders of the imprint brushing your leaking cunt in a pleasant way. "I promise to be good"

"Do" he grunts, "you're runnin' out of time, doll"

You close your eyes, movements more quick and erratic, little moans leaving your body as you groan.

"Tell me how this lil' experiment of yours feelin', baby"

"F-feels good, daddy. Fuck" you groan, lifting your hips a bit as you grind yourself down across the material. "So so good, daddy. Thank you, daddy"

"Mmm, that's right. Now be a good girl and come for me. Let me see that pretty face of yours when ya' come over ma' belt"

You let out a shaky breath, juices spilling over his jeans even as you see stars. He chuckles, enamoured at the sight.

"You gonna need help with that?" you point out his boner.

Oh, aren't you a doll? So kind-hearted.

"That's okay" he breathes out, tiredly. He thinks of the next trip to the bathroom, the image of what he'll fuck himself to clear now.

You smile at him, for the first time forgetting this started as a blowing-off-steam-time or transaction.

For a moment, it feels like it could be.

"Jus' seein' you cum all over me so prettily is'nough, baby"

[mocchii-writes]

can you do a dae ho fic, with him being super protective and defending the reader, but she shows her own strength (maybe even saving him) and he is so star struck and falls in love immediately

She's the Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene

Paring: Kang Dae-ho x fem!reader Summary: Dae-ho felt the need to protect you, but didn't expect how starstruck he could be when you returned the favor. Words: 1k Warnings: death, guns, swearing, violence, normal squid game stuff lols A/n: I hope I didn't make this too Y/n lmao ♡ ~🍡🍡

It's definitely hard to trust people here, to say the least. You see it all, just about. The blood of hundreds stains your clothes, and the screams you’ll probably have in your nightmares feel like a fever dream. Your survival instinct can only get you so far, though, and you know it. You need to find a backup.

You expect some kind of weapon to fill the gap in your barrier. You could break a mirror in the bathrooms, maybe? It's an understatement to say the supplies are limited, and you just barely make it through the last game. You can tell you're a target. Maybe not a huge one, but everybody here has someone after them, and it's easy and difficult at the same time to be discreet here.

But it isn't a weapon you get for help--it's a man. He doesn't hesitate to help you out when you need it, and you know that he’s valuable in this setting. You call him Dae-ho. Probably because that's his name, but it still has some meaning to you. Hopefully to him, too. It feels right, rolling off of your tongue, but you digress.

He seems to care about you, at least compared to some of the heartless shells of people here. You've both found solace in each other, and he truly made you feel safe, even if you had only known each other for a few days. You talk to one another. He tells you about his life, his past. You tell him about your past, your life. It's a small feeling of comfort, at least to you.

You're snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of lights out being announced by that cold voice that makes your skin shiver. You kick your legs, sitting on a bed as you look at Dae-ho across the room. He's discussing something with his little group. He'd previously invited you to join, but you said you'd rather keep your circle small. You swing your legs, looking at his face. It's very serious, but he's pretty far away. He says something, and then you feel his eyes on you. He nods briefly at someone else as he heads to you. Your face shows concern as his serious demeanor doesn't falter.

"You need to be near us tonight, preferably in our base." You think he's joking, but you don't laugh, just in case.

""Base"?" You ask, smiling. "Why?" He rolls his eyes a bit, but you can't say you blame him. "I can handle myself." He raises an eyebrow and smiles.

"I'm not going to argue with you about that, but I could." You squint at him but chuckle. "Mr. Seong says people are going to fight tonight. He has a plan to keep us safe, and he said you can join."

"I thought we were gonna place bets." You smile. "My money is on that greasy guy who hangs out with the purple-haired asshole." He doesn't look amused, so you sigh. "How do you know he's not trying to get you killed?" You ask, dropping your egotistic demeanor.

"All he does is try to help us. Please." He says, pleading with you to have some common sense. You knew you would eventually accept, but you didn't like the thought.

"I'll think about it, alright?" He sighs and smiles a little. He knows he should take what he can get, but he hates the thought of someone hurting you.

Dae-ho isn't sure why he's taken the responsibility to protect you, but he has. He thinks of you like a flower sometimes. He can't make you take care of yourself if you don't want to, but he knows he's going to protect you anyway because everybody deserves a chance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were lost in your thoughts, breaking out when you hear the robotic voice again.

"Player 230, 401, 299, 331, and 268, eliminated."

What? How? Your eyes track the room and land on Dae-ho, who's staring at the guards, confused. You make eye contact briefly, before people emerge from the bathrooms.

They go on to accuse each other of attacking the opposing team, creating an edge in the room. You're not listening very closely, though. Maybe Dae-ho was on to something when he said you should hide tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Update: He very much was right.

But you can't really think about that because there are far bigger issues at hand.

The lights are flickering so intensely you're afraid they might explode, and there's too much yelling and screaming to organize your thoughts. People are moving everywhere like scattering ants, and everything is a weapon for everyone. There's blood, a lot of it, all over the floor. You run, but it's like playing operation with corpses. You have scrapes from falling off your bed and defending yourself as you regret acting tough to Dae-ho.

Your ears are ringing, only because of a punch you just took. Everything is moving at the speed of light, and you don't have time to catch up. You kick back and stun the other person enough to run away. You feel a hand on your shoulder as you whip around, ready to fight.

To your brief luck, it's Dae-ho. He says something you can't hear and then pushes you behind him. You almost scoff if you weren't truly afraid for your life. He punches the person following you but quickly takes one himself. You try to move him, but he blocks your entrance again. You shout to him, telling him to let you help, but he probably can't hear you. You see someone holding a glass bottle sprinting to you, and your instinct finally kicks in. Literally.

You shift to the left and swiftly kick them, stunning them enough to drop their bottle as you punch them, their head ramming against a bed frame as they slide down, eyes closed. You force yourself to look away from the small pool of blood forming and push down the sick feeling in your stomach. You look for Dae-ho, to see him still fighting. He appears to be losing, though you can't hold it against him.

You don't hesitate to pull the guy off of him, grabbing his shirt from behind and throwing him down as best you could. He sits up, but you kick him hard in the face, knocking him out. You're better at this than you thought. You see another lady running to you, screaming. You quickly pick up the discarded glass bottle and shatter it against her skull. The lights turn on as guards rush in, appearing to stop the fighting.

You pant, wiping unknown blood from your face as you look to Dae-ho. You expect him to look horrified at least, but he's simply staring at you. You tilt your head at him.

"You... handled that." He says, grabbing your arm and bringing you to his "base".

"I said I could," you smirk, "You seem surprised."

"No, I'm impressed." He laughs dryly.

That stressful moment didn’t feel like it would ever end, but it did, and you found yourself still standing. Or at least, still breathing. Dae-ho was too, which was the only thing you cared about at the moment. You leaned against the wall, your body trembling from the adrenaline. He was sitting across from you, his eyes anywhere but you.

"You're full of surprises," he says, his body seemed to hint at something softer than what his voice did.

"You thought I wasn't?" you say, a smirk tugging at your lips.

"I never said that." He pauses, looking at his hands before looking at you. "I'm just happy you're okay."

His words linger in the air for a moment, and you’re unsure how to respond. You’d only met him a few days ago, but Dae-ho had become more than just an ally. He was someone you could trust in a place where trust was a gamble most people couldn’t afford to make.

"You didn't have to stick your neck out for me," you say, trying to sound nonchalant, but your voice wavers slightly.

"I wanted to," he replies simply, as though the decision had been easy. He finally drags his eyes to look at you. "You make this mess... bearable."

You feel your cheeks flush despite the blood coating your skin. His honesty is unexpected, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. Not anymore. You’d seen too much in such a short time to waste moments of purity.

"Dae-ho," you start, but his name on your tongue makes you falter. You take a breath and try again. "I don’t know how much longer either of us will make it here, but... you give me hope in this place, I guess."

His smile is small, but it reaches his eyes this time. He shifts closer, closing the space between you two. "Then we survive for each other. Okay?"

You nod, a warmth blooming in your chest that you hadn’t felt in what seemed like years.

For the first time in what feels like forever, the world outside of this moment feels small. The chaos, the blood, the fear—all of it fades away. In its place is Dae-ho, his presence holding your soul in an unfamiliar but welcome warmth.

You're both specks of dust in a hurricane, and you both know it. But, for this moment, you know you'll have a place to rest in the heart of this chaos. You can't say you're in love, but as he gently rests his hand over yours, you can't say you couldn't be.

So, I kind of love this, lmk what you think ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

~🍡🍡

[munsonsmixtapes]

Pretty Boy

This is what I posted on ao3 and thought I'd post it here as well!

You paint Eddie's nails for the first time and he enjoys it way more than he thought he would.

The sun streams in from the window in your bedroom. Eddie sits across from you, his eyes moving back and forth between the colors that you’ve set in front of him. They’re arranged in the colors of the rainbow with black on the very end. That’s what he’s gravitating towards, but now he’s thinking that he should choose something else.

Black is safe. Black is comfortable. But for some reason, that dark blue is calling his name. He picks it from the line up and holds it up to the light, noticing that there’s glitter mixed in. That makes him want it even more so he hands you the bottle wordlessly.

“You have great taste, baby,” you tell him with a smile and his quickly matches yours.

You take his hands in yours and place them on your knees as you shake up the bottle. Eddie watches curiously as you open the bottle and take one of his hands. You slowly glide the brush along the center his of his thumb nail then do a stroke on each side before moving on to his Pinter finger. The color compliments his skin beautifully and you can tell he thinks so too by the way he’s staring down his two painted nails.

This is the longest he’s ever been quiet and you find that odd since he’s always yapping away. This is how you know he’s really focusing on what you’re doing. He looks mesmerized by the whole thing which shows you just how grateful he is that you’re doing this for him.

You’re done with his left hand in a flash then move on to his other hand. Your fingers are warm against his just like always and if his nails weren’t wet, he’d intertwine his fingers with yours because he loves the feelings of your hands pressed together.

You finish his pinky then lay his hands on your knees to let them dry. He’s still staring down at them with that goofy smile and you can’t help but mimic him.

“Do I look pretty?” He asks, finally looking up at you, his warm honey eyes boring into yours.

“You always look pretty,” you reply. “You’re my pretty boy.” He’s full on grinning now and your heart warms at the sight. “Now, can I have some sugar in return for doing you this favor?”

“You can have all the sugar you want,” he replies, leaning in for a kiss, trying his best not to mess up your work. Once the polish is fully dry, he tackles you and pins you to the bed, peppering your face in kisses as his hands find yours. He then pulls away, staring back at you with those pretty eyes. Your pretty boy with his pretty nails.

[stansthemans]

Stan sex work ptsd with Ford finding out during their first time goes brrrrrr in my brain

Sliding into the tight heat of Stan’s body should be amazing, transcendental, the most glorious physical experience of Ford’s life. For a moment, it is. For a moment, everything is perfection. His brother loves him, loves him in all the ways that Ford loves him in return. They have exchanged words of love and gentle kisses. Kisses that grow more and more heated as hands become more and more desperate. Desperate to touch, to feel every inch of each other, to memorize smooth planes and raised scars, both old and new.

Stan’s moans as Ford rolls his hips are so beautiful, music to his ears. The way he clenches around Ford’s cock, providing him with the most perfect pressure, it should only be obscene, but it too is beautiful. Feather light, Ford kisses his brother’s back, over the burn scar from so many years ago, and Stanley shudders.

“Getting—fuck—getting sentimental on me, Sixer,” Stanley says, rocking back to meet him.

Another kiss, an apology he has already spoken so many times, and will continue to speak. “Yes,” Ford says. “For you, absolutely.”

“Sap,” Stan says, and Ford hears the truth in that statement, that Stan adores him too, that this is good, it’s perfect. “You can do more. I ain’t gonna break.” He pushes his hips back hard to meet Ford’s next thrust, proving his point in the most delicious way.

Ford groans, his fingers digging deeper into the soft skin at Stan’s hips, deep enough to bruise. Yes, he wants that. He wants to mark Stan as his, lay complete claim to him. If anyone were ever in an opportunity to see these bruises, Ford is sure he would lose the entirety of his mind, but he wants those marks dark and deep—replenished each time they begin to fade—on Stan’s skin so that there can be no doubt that Stan belongs to him.

And if Stan is his, then it is Ford’s responsibility to give him what he wants. Ford picks up his pace, his thrusts harder and deeper. “Oh fuck,” Stan shouts. His arms, thick with corded muscle, tremble with the effort of supporting himself, and soon enough, he drops down to his forearms, back curved in a gorgeous arch. And Ford doesn’t have to wonder for even a second if the change of position is good, if it will lead to a truly glorious prize, because on the next thrust in, Stan is screaming into the pillow.

Ford pounds into him harder, desperate to hear more of those beautiful moans, desperate to make Stan feel better than he ever has in his life. But that pillow, that detestable pillow, is muffling those perfect moans, the transcendent sound of Ford’s name spilling from his brother’s lips. “No, Stanley,” Ford moans. “Let me hear you.” And he curls his fingers into Stan’s sweat damp hair and sharply tugs him back up.

It is in that instant that everything changes.

Stan goes rigid, and the whimper that escapes his lips is not one of pleasure. Ford freezes, his own blood like ice in his veins. “Stanley,” he asks, low and careful. “Stanley, are you—“

“Fine,” Stan chokes out, and the one word alone is broken glass.

Ford eases his grip, both on Stan’s hair and hip, and pulls out slowly. “N-no,” Stan stammers. “No, it’s—Ford, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s nothing.”

Ford helps Stan to sit back, helps him fold his legs in a manner that won’t strain his knees or hips. “It is clearly not fine,” Ford says, cupping Stan’s face. Not only is Stan very noticeably no longer hard, but he’s begun to tremble like a leaf. It’s not the good sort of trembling it was earlier, when they had first pressed their bodies together, when they had said with plain and uncompromising words how they love each other.

“It is,” Stan says through his teeth, but the sweat on his forehead is cold, and his face is ashen, and his eyes are quickly growing distant. “It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s—“

Ford folds Stan into his arms, holds him tight against his chest. Stan clings back, blunt nails digging into Ford’s skin. “I’ve got you,” Ford says firmly. “I’m right here, Stanley. I’ve got you.”

He does not say that it’s fine, because it isn’t right now. He doesn’t say that it will be ok, because he doesn’t know what is going on in Stan’s mind. He does, however, recognize a panic attack when he sees one. He does recognize that far off look of someone slipping into the past. It’s agony to know that he can’t stop it, can’t protect his brother from his own memories. All Ford can do is sit there, hold him, promise him that he’s there, he isn’t leaving, he’ll always be right here, he loves him.

Ford doesn’t know how long it takes before Stan’s breathing begins to steady, before the desperate way he clings to Ford eases just the slightest bit. Ford pets at his brother’s hair, squeezes gently on the back of his neck. “Are you here,” he asks, voice a low whisper. “Are you back with me?”

“I—I’m sorry,” Stan gasps, and Ford’s heart breaks.

“No,” he says, pulling back just enough to cup Stan’s face, to look into his wet, red-rimmed eyes. “No, Stanley. No, you don’t—can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Stan begs, the tears falling from his eyes. Ford pulls him forward, lips slotting against Stan’s, desperate to tell him in this way too that he’s here and he loves him.

“What happened,” Ford asks, thumbs wiping the tears away. “What did I do?”

“Naw,” Stan says, kissing him again all too sweetly. “Wasn’t you.”

“It clearly was,” Ford says, distressed but trying very hard to not lose control himself because he hurt his brother. His teeth are on edge, but he knows if he loses control, it will only be worse for Stan, and he will not make it worse. “Everything was—it was so perfect but then I pulled your hair and—“ Ford stops short. “I pulled your hair.”

“I—uh—I guess I don’t like that,” Stan grumbles, and he won’t meet Ford’s eyes. There are certainly plenty of indicators to choose from that this situation is serious, but that’s the biggest one. Stan is more than capable of lying while looking someone directly in the eyes, but not Ford. Ford has always been able to see everything there, no matter how much Stan wants to hide it.

Ford folds his hands over Stan’s, intertwining their fingers. “It’s more than that,” Ford says. Stan still doesn’t look at him. “Please, love,” Ford says. “We—we have to talk about things. I know we’re bad at that, but there are so many bad things that wouldn’t have happened if we’d just bothered to talk to each other. I don’t—I can’t hurt you like this. Please, Stanley.”

For a long moment, they simply sit there, holding tight to each other’s hands. Stan still isn’t looking at him, but Ford cannot tear his eyes away. He watches everything, every slight twitch of Stan’s frowning lips, the clenching of his jaw, his throat working around a lump. A desperate part of Ford wants to demand that Stan speak, grab hold of him tight and shake until he spills. But that would only make things worse. He has to wait, even if the wait is agony.

Finally, Stan huffs a defeated sort of sigh, and he mutters, “Just reminded me of some bad times.”

They have spoken about their time apart, both before and after the initial portal incident. Ford knows that neither of them has gone into much detail, but they have told each other enough for them to know that neither of them was having a good time without his twin. Both dealt with homelessness, resorting to criminal activity to make ends meet, and crippling loneliness.

But what Stan says next, Ford is in no way expecting. “Some of Rico’s guys, you know, and just, shitty Johns in general.”

“Johns,” Ford echoes, trying to make that word make sense in connection to his brother, but there’s a mental block roughly the size of the Berlin Wall getting in the way.

“Yeah, Sixer,” Stan says slowly. “Johns are—“

“I know what Johns are,” Ford snaps. “Why would you—“

And Stan still isn’t looking at him, but everything about him radiates shame. Shame. That’s not—Stan does not do shame, not like this. When Stan decides to do something, he stands by it firmly and stubbornly, even when he is so clearly in the wrong. He had risked the entire world, this entire dimension including the kids that he loves so dearly, by turning on the portal to bring Ford back, Ford who might have been dead for all Stan knew. He had known all the risks and dangers, and he just hadn’t cared. In his mind, Ford was more important than it all, even if the odds were horribly stacked against him coming back.

Events big and small, Stan is never ashamed of himself. So why is that the emotion so clearly radiating from him in waves?

“Stanley, why would you be involved with Johns?” Ford still cannot make himself understand this.

“Come on, Sixer,” Stan says miserably. “You really gonna make me spell this out?”

“Apparently I must,” Ford says, his stomach twisting, because no. No, it can’t be.

“Pa kicked me out of the house at barely seventeen years old,” Stan says. “Fifty bucks and a half packed duffle. Shit went bad real fast, and everything I tried to make ends meet just was worse and worse. I—I had to do something, and apparently I was good at it. Or at least good enough to get paid.”

There is some odd noise ringing in Ford’s ears that makes each new word Stan speaks harder and harder to hear while at the same time comprehension slams into him like a tidal wave.

His brother spent some amount of time—possibly years, possibly when not even a legal adult yet—so desperate to survive that he was forced into selling his body for men to do with it as they pleased. His brother had looked at his life and seen only one option to get the money needed to put food into his belly and that was to allow strange and cruel men to fuck him and throw whatever amount of coin his way after. His brother had to allow himself to be treated like an object, something to be used and then discarded, little better than trash.

The blood in Ford’s veins is somehow both ice and molten lava at the same time. He’s shaking and sweating, numb and burning.

“I know it’s—I didn’t want to tell you. I should have,” Stan is saying. “That way you’d know that I’m—I’m not—“

Ford feels the same way he did when Stan told him the truth of the differences in how their father treated them as children. The hurricane of rage clouds everything but the desire to know names. He wants to find these men. He wants to erase their existence immediately with his quantum destabilizer, but he also wants to prolong it, to make them truly understand how badly they fucked up, how unforgivable their actions were, how they could have destroyed and shattered the most precious thing Ford has ever known, which is something that Ford cannot abide.

“You deserve better than me.”

“What?” Stan’s defeated, broken statement slams Ford back into his body. Did he just—? “How dare you,” Ford hisses.

Stan flinches and starts to move away. “I’m sorry, I’ll—“

No. Absolutely not. Stan is not allowed to move even a centimeter away from him. In fact, he needs to be closer. Ford darts forward and grabs Stan in a tight hold, pulling him fully into his lap, clinging to him with a renewed desperation. Away from him is where Stan gets hurt. Ford has hurt him too in the past, but never again. He’ll die first. “Shut up, Stanley,” Ford says, and he buries his face into Stan’s neck and locks his hands around his back in a tight hold that Stan will not be able to break.

“Not gonna lie, I’m kind of confused,” Stan says after a moment.

The rage is not quelled, but Ford does recognize that he has not been clear. Time to rectify that mistake. He will not allow Stan to labor under any delusions as to his feelings. “Do not ever talk about yourself like that again,” Ford says through his teeth. “There is no one better than you. You are perfect. I am extremely angry right now, but not at you. I wish very much that I could find every person who treated you so terribly and disintegrate their atoms.”

The tension in Stan’s body starts to ease, just slightly. “Not to out myself as kind of a nerd—but only by necessity—you can’t disintegrate non-radioactive atoms,” he says.


“I will find a way,” Ford promises in a dark, vengeful hiss. He is being fully serious, but his declaration makes Stan laugh. Ford is still angry. He will be angry about this for his entire life, but that beautiful sound of his brother laughing, a chuckle that builds up into a loud guffaw, lets Ford release at least some of the pressure threatening to make him snap.

“Sure you would, Poindexter,” Stan says. “But—um—this is ok?”

“That you were hurt like that will never be ok to me,” Ford says.

“No, I mean—“ Ford’s face is still pressed into his brother’s neck, but he can practically hear him chewing on his bottom lip. “You’re not—you know—“

“I don’t know,” Ford says.

“Fuck,” Stan grumbles. “You don’t think I’m disgusting? Like you don’t want to call all this off?”

Ford lifts his head and stares at Stan bewildered. “What are you talking about?” Stan isn’t exactly blushing, but his face is a bit red, and some of that impossible shame seems to be settling back into place. It’s a dilemma, but Ford makes the choice to release his hold around his brother but only so that his hands are free to cup Stan’s face. “I love you,” Ford says, slowly and firmly. “I have loved you and wanted this since long before I understood what I wanted. What do you mean, call it off?”

A dread begins to seep into his bones. Does Stan not want this anymore, now that Ford knows? Does he not want him, now that Ford has proven capable of so easily bringing up these old hurts?

“Hey, hey, stop it,” Stan says, all too gently, his own hands finding Ford’s face. “I can see that giant brain of yours going into overdrive. I love you too. I want you too. I just—“

“Explain,” Ford demands, his heart beating too fast, although Stan’s hands on his face are grounding and soothing.

“I don’t exactly feel good about that shit,” Stan says, his eyes lowering. Ford rubs his thumbs over Stan’s stubble rough cheeks. “It was fucked enough on its own, but I always used to—I thought if you knew, you’d hate me even more.”

“I have never hated you, Stanley,” Ford says. It’s true. No matter how angry, how bitter, how desperately sad Ford was ever feeling in the forty years they were separated, hatred was never something he could muster up. Those negative emotions were real, and they did taint much of how he thought of his brother, but always still, in and around it all, Ford loved him. There is nothing that either of them could ever do that would take that away. They are too ingrained into each other’s souls.

Stan shrugs a bit. “Or be disappointed in me,” he says in a manner that suggests it would be an inevitable and obvious way that Ford ought to feel, and that cuts Ford deeply. “Hey, what’re you—“ And then Stan’s thumbs are moving over Ford’s cheeks, and that’s when Ford realizes that he’s crying. And now that Ford realizes he’s crying, the tears come harder. “Oh shit, Sixer, no,” Stan says, so soft, so gentle, and now he’s the one holding Ford close, his hands moving in slow, steady, soothing trails over Ford’s neck and shoulders, his voice uttering a gentle mantra that he’s there, it’s ok.

It feels like it takes forever for Ford to calm down enough to force out the words, “I’m sorry.”

“Sixer, no,” Stan starts, but Ford shakes his head.

“No, I am,” Ford sobs. “You—I made you feel like I would have—“

“Hey, no.” Stan squeezes the back of his neck, and it helps Ford feel like he can breathe again. “I—fuck—I don’t know, Sixer. Maybe you did. Maybe I was just fucked up about it all on my own.”

Ford sniffles, and it’s a disgusting sound. He’s always been a disgusting crier. Despite that they have the exact same face, he always thought Stan did it better. If someone can cry better than others. Certainly Stan never produced as much snot or got quite so blotchy and puffy. “Still, I never meant,” Ford starts, and Stan shushes him.

“I know, Stanford, I know,” Stan says. He pauses for a moment, and then he leans forward and kisses the tears from Ford’s cheeks. “Hey, so we kind really beefed this thing up, huh?”

Ford huffs a wet chuckle. “Understatement.” He frowns. “I’m sorry.” Stan opens his mouth, but Ford plows on. “No, I am. I wanted—it was so perfect, Stanley. You were so perfect. I wanted to make you feel so good but—“

“You did,” he says. “If that’s how prostate exams went, I’d go more often.”

Ford snorts. “As if you’ve ever gone in for a proper prostate exam even once.”

Stan rolls his eyes. “Like I’m paying some quack doctor to stick a finger up my ass and not even get off for my troubles. But we can try again. I mean, not tonight. Mood’s definitely killed, but maybe in the morning?”

“I would like that very much,” Ford says. He leans forward just a bit, not quite closing the distance, until he sees the little uptick of Stan’s lips. Then Ford kisses his small smile. “Are you as tired as I am?”

“I think a marathon run of fucking worthy of teenagers would have been less exhausting than this talking about our feelings shit,” Stan says.

They settle back together in bed, this time under the covers. Ford wraps Stan up in his arms, the press of skin to skin soothing. Even more so is the warmth of Stan’s breath across his chest. Ford trails his hands along Stan’s arm slung across his stomach, up and down his back. Stan’s skin erupts in pleased goosebumps. Ford continues over his neck and then stops short.

Stan lets out a displeased grumble. “Why’d you stop?”

Ford has to swallow past a lump in his throat. “I—I almost touched your hair again. And I did it when you were—when you were upset—before you told me.”

“Hey, Sixer,” Stan starts.

“I’m sorry,” Ford says.

“Honestly, getting really sick of that phrase tonight.”

“Stanley,” Ford starts.

“No, I am,” Stan says. For a moment, they lie there, the calm broken again. Then, Stan sighs and asks lowly. “Remember what I told you about Pa?”

Immediately, Ford’s blood heats again, the anger starting to bubble towards a boil. Stan’s fingers dig into his side, both a warning and grounding. “He grabbed my hair a lot too,” Stan says. “To throw me around. ‘Cause that didn’t leave bruises like it did when he’d grab my arm or something.” Stan’s thumb starts to move in slow, steady trails over Ford’s ribs. Ford matches his breaths in time to it. “I hated people touching my hair. I hated when it was aunts at family functions. I hated when it was the couple of girls I went out with in high school. I hated guys at the gym or coaches ruffling it up. I hated the goddamned barber. I still do. But know what I never hated?”

Another lump forms up in Ford’s throat. Because he does know.

“I never hated this,” Stan says. “When it was just you and me. Maybe after I had a bad dream. Or you were reading some adventure book out loud. When it was just you and me, laying around like this, and yeah, we had on more clothes then.” Ford laughs wetly, and Stan snickers at his own joke. “But it was just like this, and you’d pet my hair or kind of drag your knuckles on my scalp, and I never hated that. I loved that.”

“Sap,” Ford accuses before Stan can. His voice only warbles slightly with the emotion as he buries his fingers into Stan’s hair, nails light on his scalp.

Stan melts. He melts just like he did when they were kids, when they curled up just like this—yes, with at least shorts on—as if they were the only two people in the world, locked into a perfect bubble of warmth and comfort and each other.

“Love you too,” Stan mumbles, starting to succumb to the exhaustion of the incredibly emotional evening.

“So much, Stanley,” Ford says, struggling also, but he manages to keep himself awake, keep his fingers moving in steady trails until Stan falls asleep. Then, Ford is seconds behind him.

[jayparked]

can u do 52 and 76 with jay🥺🥺 (quite he is yandere if u wanted too?)

WARNINGS: IMPLIED MAFIA AU???? LMAO (idk where tf this came from), yandere jay? (idk if i did it right), possessive jay, he threatens to kill someone, orgasm denial, dom jay, marking, spanking, overstimulation, pet names, dirty talk, rough unprotected sex, fingering (why tf are there so many warnings for a drabble omfg)

WC: 811

"who is he?" jay demands. his jaw is clenched as he waits for your response, eyes wild and frantic.

"i- jay i told you. my father insists i be seen with him-"

jay's hand smacks the wall right by your face. although it makes you jump, you know he doesn't do it in an attempt to scare you. it's just a way for him to let out the emotions he's feeling stirring inside.

"your father," jay snarls and pulls away from you, laughing maniacally while shaking his head until his hair is falling over his eyes, "i bite my tongue, follow every order- excel at every mission assigned to me, and he still doesn't see that i'm the one he should be trusting you with." disbelief is dripping from his tone.

your shoulders relax and you take a step towards him. "jay," you whisper softly, "it's purely transactional, you know that. my father just wants me to be seen with this guy so his competition backs off and finds new territory. i promise he won't get in our way."

"i'll kill him. that'll surely get him out of the way." jay laughs again, the muscles in his back tensing even more.

"i promise what's-his-name will be gone before we know it."

jay pauses, pointer finger pressed firmly to his lips before he turns and points it at you with a sly smile. "you don't know his name."

you're about to reply when you realize it's not a question, but a confident realization. so, you smile softly and wait instead.

you didn't have to wait long. because just moments later jay is pushing your head down into the mattress with your ass up in the air; the perfect position for him to lay possessively harsh smacks against your skin while he rapidly pounds his raw cock deep inside your cunt. your neck and chest are littered with fresh bright red hickeys and bite marks, his desperate way of claiming you.

"'s too much!" you cry out, eyes shut tightly as your toes start to curl with the amount of pleasure building up throughout your body. jay's pace is relentless, his hand smacking the swell of your ass yet again making you yelp. the sting brings a fresh string of tears to your eyes, your hands fisting at the bedsheets around you as some sort of leverage.

"fuuuck, baby. i can feel this tight little pussy gripping me even more. you want to come?"

"y-yes, I- please-"

"hmm...but do you really deserve to?" he leans forward until his face is next to yours, lips ghosting over the skin of your ear. "tell me who you belong to, baby. tell me who's the only person that gets to have you like this."

you scream out his name and jay promptly rewards you with a particularly harsh thrust. finally reaching your limit, your body lets go, the dam inside you bursting while your orgasm ripples throughout your body.

"that's it, baby, oh that's it," jay groans and flips you onto your back. your eyes flutter shut, expecting him to give you a break for a moment before he chases his own high. but, he clearly has other plans.

"oh i'm not done with you." his fingers fill the space his cock just stretched out, pushing your juices back inside at a cruel, slow pace. his fingers beckon you toward him, calling you back to pleasure as he watches your body tremble with overstimulation.

tears pool from the corners of your eyes, your nails digging into his biceps, desperate for him to ground you.

jay grabs your chin and turns your face towards his, grumbling out, "look at me."

immediately your eyes are open and meeting his hooded gaze.

"you know i'll do it right?" he grunts, "i'll kill anyone who thinks they have a chance with you. you're mine. i dont care what i have to do or who i have to hurt to make sure it stays that way." there's a hungry fire behind his eyes, his fingers picking up speed.

"mmm, fuck, oh my god. jay i-" your own moan interrupts you, the sentence long lost in the void of your mind as the painful pleasure he's inflicting upon you blinds all of your senses.

"look at you, squirming under me, all flushed and pretty looking. can't even take a little teasing, can you? i'll make sure no one else wants you with how badly i'm about to ruin you again."

your second orgasm is already quickly approaching, your brain humming the more he talks. he's not even talking to get a response to you, he's more-so speaking his threats and intentions into the universe, willing anyone to dare test them. and you'll be damned if you didn't stand confidently next to him and watch as he burns down the world for you.

♡ for part of my 1k follower celebration ♡ masterlist

[skzdust]

Leave the Mark On My Neck (That It's Yours)

This is smut. MINORS DNI.

This was written in a moment of weakness. Enjoy.

Title from "Bite Me" by Enhypen.

Cross posted on ao3 here!

Summary: In which reader doesn't cum, and Yeosang teaches them a lesson.

Pairing: Kang Yeosang x afab reader

Includes: overstimulation, fingering, vibrators, nipple play, dacryphilia

Word count: 1.5k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst @atzlordz @breadpuddingboys

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

“So, I have this hypothesis.” You said, tracing circles on Yeosang’s arm.

“Hm?” He looked at you, reaching over to push his fingers through your hair. “What kind of hypothesis?”

“I think…” You hummed. “I think I’d look really fucking hot with your marks on my neck.”

Yeosang flipped you under him. Your head hit the pillow, and you looked up at him. His eyes were darker, more intense than they had been just a moment ago.

“You want my marks, honey?” The pet name was sweet, and while his voice was, too, there was an undertone to it, something smoldering under the surface like hot coals.

You added fuel, breathing, “Yeah, I want them.”

He smiled at you before leaning down and biting your skin where it was softest, right by your neck. You could feel the pressure on your jugular as he sucked a mark, and you inhaled sharply, the feeling making you whimper.

He pulled back, pressing a kiss to the mark and looking at you with a grin before doing the same thing to the other side of your neck. Your whimpering was louder this time, and you tried to keep your hips still, but you were fighting the urge to pull his hand between your thighs right now.

“Do you want something?” Yeosang whispered in your ear.

“Yeah.” You whispered back.

“Use your words.”

“I want you to finger me.�� You bit the inside of your lip, suddenly shy.

“Oh, honey, I’d be happy to.” Yeosang smiled, like sunshine. “All you had to do was ask.”

You got on your back, propping your hips up with a pillow, taking a deep breath. Yeosang helped you take your sleep shorts off, but left your lacy underwear in place.

“Are you going to…” You murmured, then sighed as he began to touch you through the thin fabric. “Fuck, Yeosang.”

He was being so nice tonight. Usually, when he fucked you, it was with sharp words and occasionally sharper sensations. But tonight, while there was definitely some fire to him, he was being gentle and kind.

A part of you liked it.

But a part of you wanted him to be <em>mean</em>.

You held as still as you could while he teased you. Your breathing was loud, quick through your parted lips. You wanted him to fuck you, to call you a slut, to do all manner of—

He shoved your underwear to the side and pushed a finger inside you suddenly, without warning, cutting off the train of images and thoughts rushing in your head. You moaned, long and loud. “Oh, fuck.”

“Does that feel good?” He asked softly, moving a little inside you.

“Yes.” You breathed.

“Good.” He murmured. He pulled out the finger a moment later.

“Why—” You started, but he pushed two fingers in, and you were suddenly gasping.

“Wow, impatient.” He clicked his tongue. “Maybe you should practice waiting.”

“No!” You said quickly. “No, I’m sorry, thank you for touching me, sir.”

“Good girl.” He said, stroking his fingers. You sighed, arching up into his touch. “Yeah, that’s a good girl.”

You moaned at the praise. “Like being your good girl.”

“Oh, do you?” Yeosang’s fingers moved faster. “Because with the way I’ve seen you brat before, I wouldn’t know it.”

You laughed, a breathy sound mostly knocked out of your lungs by his fingers. “I do! I do.”

“Then prove it, be a good girl for me and cum.”

You made a confused little moan, looking at him. “Now?”

He nodded. “Now.”

You wriggled on the bed, reaching up to pinch your own nipples, knowing it would get you hotter.

He pushed your hand away. “Did I tell you you could touch yourself like that?” His fingers moved faster, and you whined.

“No, sir, I’m sorry.”

“Prove to me you’re sorry. Cum.”

You pushed into Yeosang’s hand, trying as hard as you could to get yourself to that edge, but try as you might, you just didn’t have enough stimulation for long enough.

Yeosang removed his fingers, sighing as he wiped them on your thigh. “Couldn’t even cum for me.”

You sighed. “You gave me, like, a minute.”

“That was at least three.” He grinned at you.

“Fuck you.” You muttered.

“Oh, well I was already going to teach you a lesson, but now I really have to. That behavior can’t go unpunished, you know.”

You felt a thrill in your stomach. “You’re going to punish me?”

“Of course. If my little slut pretending to be a good girl can’t even cum when I tell her to, well, then, that’s an issue.” He said conversationally, like he was just discussing the weather.

You took a shuddering breath. “And what are you going to teach me?”

“Well, if you can’t cum when you’re asked, I guess you have to learn how to do that.” He shrugged. “And the best method for that is to make you cum and not stop.”

“Not— not stop?” You blinked.

“You’re gonna cum so many times you’re begging me to stop.” His casual face faded as his smile grew dangerous. “And then you’re going to keep cumming.”

“Fuck.” You whispered.

A few minutes later, Yeosang had you naked and handcuffed to the headboard. He laid down between your thighs, sucking hickeys and marks into your thighs as you shivered. “Yeosang, please…”

“Please what?” He looked up.

“Please fuck me.” You whispered.

He grinned and whipped out a vibrator from behind his back.

“Where did that come from?”

“I have my ways.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

He pushed it inside you in one smooth motion, and it felt like the air had been punched from your lungs.

“It means shut up and <em>take it</em>.”

You whimpered when he turned it on, flicking it to the lowest setting. “God, that feels good.”

“Yeah?” He laid between your thighs again. “I’m just gonna leave some more marks here while that works.”

“Yes, please do that.” You sighed.

He proceeded to do just that, pinching and playing with the hickeys he’d already left on whichever thigh his mouth wasn’t on at the moment. The vibrator buzzed between your legs the whole time, and you moaned and writhed at the painful and pleasurable sensations.

Eventually, Yeosang sat up, wiping his mouth. “You shake so much when there’s something inside you.”

You nodded in agreement. “Just feels good, sir.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” He grabbed hold of the base and began to fuck you with it. You moaned and pushed yourself further onto it with every thrust.

“You’re so pretty when you’re needy.” He said thoughtfully, pressing the button and turning the vibrations higher.

Goosebumps rose all over your skin as you writhed on the sheets, moaning the whole time. Yeosang was really fucking good at this, at knowing just what buttons to push to turn you into a mess.

“You like this, don’t you, slut?” He turned it up once more, to the highest setting, and climbed off the bed to get something else, before you could respond.

He came back with another vibrator, and you watched with wide eyes as he pressed it to your nipple. You whined at the cold silicone before he switched it on.

The sensation was so strong you arched off the bed. “Yeosang, I’m gonna— I’m gonna—”

“That’s sir to you.” He hissed, grabbing your jaw. “And yes, you are. You’re gonna cum.”

He let go of your chin and grabbed the vibrator inside you, fucking you with it.

It wasn’t much longer before your orgasm washed over you, your vision blurring and your mouth falling open. “Sir, sir, sir, fuck, God, it feels so good!”

“I’m glad, baby.” He said with a smile as your vision came back to normal. “Because you’re going to keep cumming. As long as I want you to.”

The second orgasm was good, too. The third was where it started to creep into too much.

The fourth had you whining. The fifth was the first one where you felt like maybe you’d hit your limit, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks.

Then the sixth and seventh. Yeosang had started fucking your face around four, and his thrusts grew even harsher with every time you came.

Eight.

Nine.

Yeosang stopped, sitting between your legs to watch you cum again.

Ten.

He switched off the vibrator, smiling and pulling it out of you. “Wow, baby, consider me impressed.”

You smiled, exhausted. “Cuddles.”

“Of course.”

He undid the handcuffs, rubbing your wrists to make sure they weren’t bruised. “Why don’t we take a shower, and then we can cuddle.”

You whined in protest. “But that means standing up.”

“I know, baby. But you’ll feel better after.”

You sighed. “I know.”

“C’mon.” He helped you up, and you leaned against him in the warm water, your legs shaky. “Beautiful girl.”

He helped you into clean pajamas, and you got into bed. You were dimly aware of him kissing your forehead, and then you fell asleep.

[starrihan]

My Youth is Free - Toxic! Boynextdoor Break Up Scenarios

-> Pairing: afab! Reader x toxic! Boynextdoor

-> Plot: toxic breakup scenarios for each of the members

-> Genre: angst, suggestive (only some, not WH), Sungho and riwoo are misogynistic and controlling, riwoo is a manipulator, Taesan is really cold, anger issues in woonhak’s, fwb! Leehan, Leehan and Taesan are assholes, reader is blunt and swears a lot, use of real names (Sanghyeok, Dongmin, and Donghyun)

-> Warnings: misogyny, swearing

-> Word Count: 5,935 (~800-1200 words per member)

-> Notes: toxic bnd is all that’s been on my mind recently but let me know if you would like a part 2 where they make up with reader 🤭

-> Side Note: I get a lot of my inspirations from songs (like 1 or 2 lines from a song) and obviously 20 was the inspiration for this one but I always forget to link the song in case someone doesn’t know it 🤦🏽‍♀️ so here is a little edit with the song added anyways enjoy reading~ 😚

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Sungho:

He couldn't stand the thought of you getting closer to your male coworker. You had recently gotten a new job that required you to work a little later than he did. Sometimes you’d have so much work to do that you’d bring it home to work on, not having had enough time during the workday to get important documents and files finished before their deadline. When you told him that you would be working on a project with a male coworker he was supportive, at first. Of course you guys had total trust in each other, so he didn’t mind you needing to stay later in the office to work with him. But even after your joint project was over, you would still hang out regularly amongst other coworkers. This is what got under his skin.

“You know he wants you, right?”

“Sungho, please. We’re going out with a couple of friends too. I only mentioned his name because you’ve met him before.”

“And the whole time we hung out he was eyeing you down like a piece of candy. C’mon Y/N, seriously? The only reason a guy would hang out with a group of girls is because he wants one of them. You told me that he doesn’t really know the other girls so he’s only going out because you’re there.”

“Yeah, because I’m introducing him to them. I’m the department head so he worked with me but he should know the other people in my department if we’re going to be working together.”

“Im just saying, why would he hang out with you if he didn’t like you?”

“Excuse me? You don’t think I’m fun or interesting enough to hang out with a guy? You think men would only hang out with me because they want to sleep with me?”

“Baby, that’s not what I meant I–”

“Save it. I’m leaving. I’ll be back by 11.”

That was the first conversation of many that led to the break up. It got to a point where you would tell him you were going out and he’d automatically assume you were hanging out with the coworker, throwing a snarky, “don’t come back if you smell like him,” at you before you bitterly slam the door in his face. Until one night you had a work party and you didn’t invite Sungho to come with you, not even mentioning it to him. He only found out because your friends had posted about it.

“So were you ever going to tell me about this? Why didn’t you invite me to come with you?”

Sungho shows you his phone screen with your friend’s post before slamming it on the table. 

“You’ve been so insufferable and insecure whenever I bring up anything work-related. If I invited you out tonight you would’ve punched the guy in the face when you saw him.”

“And why is that so bad, huh, Y/N? You don’t want me to punch your boy toy now?”

“PARK SUNGHO HE IS NOT MY BOY TOY AND YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY, UNDERSTOOD?”

You angrily throw down your stuff, marching up to him. 

“I haven’t done anything. He hasn’t done anything. WE haven’t done anything so why can't you believe me and move on from the fact that I have a male friend? Are you that insecure about me leaving you when I’ve never done anything to betray your trust? Do I mean that little to you that you won't even give me the benefit of the doubt?”

Tears are slowly making their way down your face as you try to wipe them away before smudging your makeup. His expression softens, not realizing how far he’d let his jealousy come.

“Y/N I–”

“Save it, Sungho. You clearly don’t respect me or trust me. I’ll be back later to get some of my things. I’ll stay with my parents until you can figure your shit out. Call me when you’ve gotten some sense back.”

Anger, shock, disbelief. Sungho couldn’t believe that he had let this get so out of hand. Why was he so jealous in the first place? You guys still hung out and had dates every week and you were right; you never gave him any reason to doubt your loyalty to him. 

He’d spend the next few days figuring out what it is he wants but more than that, he just wanted to give you your space. You didn’t want to leave so abruptly like that, but his toxic behaviors were driving you mad. Every time he’d spew some bullshit about you and your coworker you’d want to punch him in the face. You needed to give Sungho the time and space to figure out what his problem was, but more than anything you just wanted to be back in his arms. 

༄ ༄ ༄

Riwoo:

When you first met Riwoo, it took him some time to get used to your bubbly and outgoing personality. You loved being out and having fun and partying, while he preferred to stay at home. It never bothered you that he didn’t always want to go out with you and it never bothered him that you would always want to go out. It would cause some small tiffs between you two about where date night would take place that week, but other than that, there were no issues with your opposing lifestyles. But somewhere along the way, his attitude about your friends and your constant outings had changed. He would fight it more often, using lame excuses that you would take to avoid any more fighting. 

“I heard you’re going out with her (your friend) tonight?”

“Oh yeah, she invited me out after an argument she had with her boyfriend. We’re just going to the food stands so she can vent, nothing crazy.”

“Well, I heard she got into a fight with him because she was showing herself off to other men?”

“I mean, it is summer and she was at the beach? It’s not like she was 'showing herself off to other men,' she just wanted to wear a swimsuit. But apparently there's more to it she’s going to tell me about tonight.”

You were a little taken aback at his statement, not having expected him to find a problem with a woman wearing a bathing suit or moreso, using such a demeaning phrase against another woman, especially at the insinuation of wanting another man’s attention. 

He just rolled his eyes and you both awkwardly sat there, until you broke the silence, telling him that you'd be leaving now and that you'd be back later. 

Letting the rest of the evening play out, you came back with food for Riwoo, hoping that whatever he was saying earlier was just a result of him being hungry or having an off day and you knew food always made him feel better. 

“Honey! I brought you some food!”

You expect him to come running like he usually does when you bring home food, but this time he just walks up to you, phone in hand. 

“Thank you baby.”

He sits down and starts eating, waiting for you to tell him about your day.

“Okay so, apparently they’ve been having these issues for a while and this isn’t the first time he’s made some comment about her revealing her body or wearing revealing clothes. Just today he told her that she couldn’t wear jean shorts to meet up with me. Like it's 90 degrees out, what did he want her to wear, fluffy pajama pants?”

“I’m sure he has his reasons for not wanting her to wear revealing clothes in public? Why doesn’t she just respect his wishes?”

“Because he doesn’t have control over what she wears and how she wants to show off her own body? Yeah they’re dating but it’s not like she’s his to claim or anything.”

“Are you sure you should be friends with someone that doesn’t at least try to hear their boyfriend out?”

“Sanghyeok, what the hell are you talking about? What’s gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what? I just mean that I wouldn’t want you to be around people that don’t respect what others say. Who knows? Maybe she’ll start ignoring what you say and just move on to something else. She’s making a big deal over one thing so what if you get into an argument one day and she stops being your friend? I wouldn't want that happening to you.”

He rubs your arm up and down, trying to get you to understand his point of view but you move away from his touch. 

“I don’t know why you're talking like that, but I don’t like it.”

You walk away from him, but something in your mind starts reconsidering your entire friendship with your best friend. Was she really so bad for not respecting her boyfriend's wishes over her clothes? 

A few more instances arise where Riwoo tries to nicely reason with you on who you can and can’t hang out with, saying things like “I don’t want you to get hurt,” or “I don’t think you should wear that, the men around you might get the wrong idea.” And you slowly found yourself listening to him, so much so to the point where you didn’t have anyone left to hang out with besides him. 

You spent days at home, your bright personality dimmed from not having any social interaction outside of your boyfriend. It wasn’t until you got a message from one of your friends, reaching out after you had made an excuse that Riwoo gave you to not hang out with her. It clicked in your brain that your friends had done nothing wrong. It was actually him that was the problem. 

“Hey baby, ready for movie night?” 

“No, I’m not.” 

You stood up from your little blanket cocoon ready to confront him. 

“You know what I realized? This whole time, you telling me not to hang out with this person or that doing this is wrong, even telling me what I can and can’t wear? You were just manipulating me this whole time. Why? You don’t think I should do things on my own?” 

“Baby, I wasn’t manipulating you I—“

“Do NOT call me baby, you have no right. You don’t care for me and you don’t even love me. If you did you would let me be myself and not this shell of the person I once used to be. If you don’t like how I am then why have we been together this long?” 

“Y/N, I was just looking out for you that’s it.” 

“Well you can stop looking out for me, we’re done.” 

You decide then to leave him, packing your things without turning back. He can tell he’s taken it too far. He was too selfish wanting you all for himself. You deserved happiness and you weren’t going to find that with him. 

༄ ༄ ༄

Jaehyun:

The textbook definition of a workaholic. Jaehyun had expressed to you before how important his career as an idol was and that if you couldn’t handle days without seeing him or barely seeing him at all, then a relationship wasn’t the best idea. But you of course, in the optimistic honeymoon phase, denied the hardships of being in a relationship with an idol and agreed to date him anyways. Love was enough, right? 

At first, things were great. It was hard, admittedly, having to hide yourself whenever you walked into the building and even from the staff for a while, only being able to meet him in empty conference rooms after somehow managing to sneak up there by yourself. But slowly his members and staff found out and you were in the clear to freely be around each other during his practices. You even brought snacks and lunch for everyone on occasion. But you also working meant that you didn’t get to see each other much. Though this is what you had anticipated, you didn’t think it was going to be as hard as it was. 

Jaehyun would be busy hosting or in variety shows or interviews in the morning and then spend the rest of his day at the practice room or the studio. He was allowed to be over at your apartment but even then it was hard only being able to sleep next to him for a couple hours since he would be too tired to engage in anything other than a short conversation whenever he came home. He would always try to call and talk but even that got redundant since he was always so busy. 

The lack of physical contact and barely any contact at all was starting to put a strain on your relationship. You would constantly try to get him to rest or stop working but he would insist that his work was too important to stop, often insinuating that it was more important than you.

You would try to visit him whenever possible but it always felt like you were always putting more effort to see him than he would to see you. It all came to a head when he was able to get a day off. The whole group was given time off after nonstop preparations for award shows and their upcoming tours. You were finally able to get your hands on him, innocently and not so much. The night he came home was great, filled with love and passion and all the pent up emotions from the months of strain you had endured. But the next day didn’t hold the same feelings. 

Waking up to each other was all that you had asked for since the beginning of your relationship. You’d usually find yourself asleep when he came home and then he’d be gone by the time you woke up. An endless cycle of just barely missing each other was halted for just a day. Assuming that you’d be in his arms the rest of the day, you let him sleep in as you shower and work on breakfast for the both of you, taking your time. 

“Good morning baby, it smells amazing in here.” 

The cliché back hug while you cooked up eggs was exactly what you had pictured, never wanting this moment to end. After eating you let him rest while you cleaned up a little bit. Once you were done, you were slightly disappointed to have found him in the room playing online games with Donghyun and Sungho.

“Hey baby. I thought we were going to hang out today?” 

You say, all cute and pouty. 

“I know, baby. I’m only gonna play a couple rounds with them and then I’m all yours, okay?” 

He gives you a quick kiss before going back to his game, focus completely shifting as he tried to recover from his last death. You sigh as you walk away. You didn’t want to sound commanding and needy but you’ve barely seen him and wanted to hang out with him. 

You kill time by watching shows on Netflix. One hour turns into two and two turns into 4 as he emerges from the room, a disappointed look on his face. Upon hearing the bedroom door open, you turn back to see him. 

“I have some bad news…” 

“Oh no, Jaehyun, what is it?” 

“They called me into the studio just now. Apparently something happened to the usb drive that had a bunch of pre-released tracks on them and they want to see if I can save them.” 

You look at him in disbelief, tears welling up in your eyes. Voice broken, you respond,

“C-can’t they call a computer technician or something? Why are they having you go? Do you know how to retrieve the files?”

“Well no but—“ 

“So why do you have to go then?” 

“Y/N…” 

He comes closer, giving you a hug as you let your tears stream down your face and into his shirt. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t just not go.” 

You didn’t want to sound rude or ungrateful, but you couldn’t let your anger build up any longer. 

“You just HAD to play games with Donghyun and Sungho huh? Instead of spending time with me.” 

You pull away from him, eyes red and angry as tears continue to spill from your eyes and voice cracking in rage. 

“They wanted to hop on for a bit and wanted me to join them…” 

“You see them EVERYDAY!! I’ve barely seen you because your work is SO important, more important than me and then the ONE day you have off, you choose to spend half the day with the people you see LITERALLY everyday and now you’re coming out here telling me that you have to go BACK to work??? Jaehyun I don’t know how much more of this I can take…” 

Tears are slipping down his cheeks as his voice starts to break at his next words, 

“Baby I told you that it was going to be hard and that my work is so important. You know I cant say no to them.”

“So you’re choosing work again over me? Just like how you chose your friends over me? And like how you choose everything else in your life over me? Alright, that’s fine.” 

You wipe your tears as the sadness dissipates and is replaced by anger. You have no words left to say as you try to walk past him, his hand grabbing your wrist delicately stopping you from walking away. 

“Y/N please, that’s not fair. I’m so sorry. You’re so important to me and I know this is hard but can we talk about this when I get back?” 

“I’ve given you plenty of chances Jaehyun. You always refuse my help, refuse my offer when I tell you to rest or spend time with me. I have nothing left to say to you.” 

You harshly pull your hand away from his grip, closing and locking the bedroom door as Jaehyun gathers himself, washing his face before grabbing his things and heading out to the studio. Maybe love wasn’t enough. 

༄ ༄ ༄

Taesan: 

Taesan was good at everything. Almost. He was smart, always got good grades and he was very musically talented. He could sing, rap, dance and even play the piano. He was also very determined, attending both college and dance/ singing practices at his entertainment company, KOZ. You knew he was very busy but you shared similar classes and would always pair up together for projects or assignments so not being able to see each other was never an issue. The problems arose when he was stressed beyond belief. 

He seemed very chill and nonchalant to strangers, not really showing his mischievous yet funny personality. But you knew him as the fun, lovable, fake emo that was surprisingly affectionate and loved giving you cute couple gifts, like the guitar heart keychain on your bag. But when he was stressed, it was like he shut the rest of the world out, including you. At first you thought he just didn’t know how to manage that much stress yet and would cut him some slack, letting him figure things out on his own. But when his behaviors under said stress persisted even after a couple months of dating, you were starting to get sick of it. 

He was good at everything, except telling you how he was feeling. He would text you normally one day and then go no contact for multiple days, even avoiding you during classes. It would irk you the most when you’d see him hanging out with his friends right in front of your face, acting like everything was fine and then ignoring you. Finally fed up with all his antics you waited again until he hit another no contact stress period to confront him. 

You both had a big exam coming up. Exams in this class were 20% of your grade, each, so you knew he would be stressed trying to juggle studying and practice. Like you predicted, a week before the exam he stopped messaging you. He didn’t even sit next to you in class, choosing to sit by himself in the corner of the lecture hall, face buried in his laptop and notes. You would find him later in the day at the student center, talking and laughing with his friends, still not having received even a single text from him for the last few days. You decided to take pictures of him with his friends, keeping it as evidence if he tried to deny your accusations. You waited until after the exam was over to message him, “let’s hang out today! I miss you :(,” hoping that your fake excitement was conveyed through the message. You weren’t surprised to see that he had messaged you back after, simply replying with “sure,” which made you even angrier. No talking for a week and the only thing he says back to you is “sure?” 

You’re with him in a solo practice room, the small space covered in mirrors on two sides a little claustrophobic for you. 

“Dongmin, we need to talk.” 

His sigh indicated to you that he knew what you wanted to talk about. 

“Alright, let’s get this over with.” 

His attitude was already bad, pissing you off even more. 

“Let’s get this over with? Why are you acting like this is such a burden on you? Ignoring me, your girlfriend, for a week because you’re stressed studying for an exam and being here at practice but you can hang out with your friends no problem?” 

“Y/N you’re being ridiculous I wasn’t hanging out with my friends and I have been stressed, you know that.” 

“Oh really?” 

You scoff, pulling up the picture of him laughing with a couple of his friends, the date being that of 2 days ago. His face doesn’t change, if anything he looks more uninterested than when the conversation started, not even caring that he was caught in his lie. 

“You’re really gonna stand here and tell me that you haven’t been hanging out with your friends all week when you have? Why can’t you just tell me why you don’t message me, why you ignore me whenever you have too much on your plate. All I ask is that you communicate but you never do!” 

“You’re just too much to deal with.” 

That one sentence shut you up, tears on the brink of falling from your eyes. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 

“What?” 

“Recently you’ve been too much to deal with. Especially when I’m stressed. I can’t handle you and all my work and practice all together. And you know I’m not good at communicating. I don’t like to talk about my feelings.” 

It was the way that he had no emotion behind his sentences that made the lump in your throat even bigger. When did he stop caring about you? When did he stop loving you?

“Where is all this coming from? I thought everything was fine? You always acted normal after your little ghosting.” 

“You never saw that as a problem? That I would ghost you and pretend that everything was fine after? At first I was just learning how to juggle everything at once. But after a while, I started to get tired of this. I guess I just didn’t know how to say it.” 

He was so cold about it that you didn’t know how to react. Heart broken into a million pieces, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 

“You should’ve told me a while ago. Before things got this far. It’s been 8 months and you couldn’t tell me that you didn’t want to be together?” 

“Sorry. Like I said, I don’t talk about my feelings or emotions. You should’ve known that.” 

You couldn’t stand to be in that suffocating room with him any longer, shoving him out of the way as you bolt out the door, tears falling haphazardly as you exit the building. You were so lost, so hurt that he was feeling this way and never said a thing and yet he still managed to make you feel like shit about it. You wipe your tears away, removing the keychain he gave you from your bag and throwing it down to the ground, stomping on it. 

“Fuck you, Han Dongmin.”

༄ ༄ ༄

Leehan: 

The undeniably attractive, oblivious and kind hearted man that everyone loves. He was incredibly popular on your small campus, loved by men and women alike. So you were very surprised to find that he had taken an interest in you. You wouldn’t say you had a crush on him but of course you couldn’t deny his beauty. You weren’t shy per se but you didn’t put yourself out there. You had your circle of friends and did your part in the clubs you were in but that was it. 

Everyone knew him as the lovely fish guy, always talking about his pet fish and what he hopes to achieve in his tank in the future. You had only ever seen him at your school’s aqua life club, as he was the president of it. You worked with him before but you didn’t know him that well. 

“Hey Y/N.” 

There were a couple of other people helping to organize the fundraiser your club was hosting, Donghyun came to speak to you first.

“Hey Donghyun, how’ve you been?”

“I’m doing well. I actually had a question to ask you.” 

“Oh? What’s up? Did you need help with something for the club?” 

He nervously scratches the nape of his neck before flashing his bright smile at you. 

“Actually, I was wondering if you would want to go out with me sometime? I completely understand if you don’t want to but I just thought I’d ask.”

You were taken aback, not really expecting to have been asked on a date by him, but you agreed nonetheless. Which brought you to your current situation. 

Donghyun would constantly get invited out to parties by his friends or girls who thought they had a chance with him. You guys had more of a friends with benefits relationship, occasionally going on dates whenever he asked. But you inevitably caught feelings for him. You were scared to confront him about them, worried about what his reaction might be. The next time you saw him was when he invited you out to dinner. After eating, you went back to your apartment. Usually the time after your date was spent feeling each other up, as per your arrangement, but today felt different. Dognhyun could feel the tension radiating off of you so he waited until you were back inside to ask you about it.

“Everything okay? You seemed a little tense back at the restaurant?”

You fiddled with your jewelry, his nervous smile making you even more nervous. 

“Yeah it's just… there's something we need to talk about…”

“Oh, no. Don’t tell me you have a boyfriend now and have to end things with me? If you waited to tell me that after our date then that's just cruel.”

His laugh is lighthearted, almost mocking, as if the possibility of you getting a boyfriend and breaking things off him was unlikely. You reciprocate his laugh nonetheless.

“No… I actually think we need to end things for a different reason.”

His joking manner turned serious as the words left your mouth, sitting on the couch and pulling you down with him. 

“Did I do anything to upset you? I like this arrangement we have and if there's anything I can do to fix it please tell me.”

“No Donghyun, it's not you. It's just… I like you. I know that's against what our arrangement was about but I can’t help it.”

“Y/N… you know I can’t date you. It’d be too… weird. I don't meant weird but you know, I’m the president of aqua life and I have a big name here and-”

“And being with me would ruin your reputation so you decided to just sleep with me instead?”

He fell silent, confirming your previous statement and you felt your heart drop into your stomach. How had you not known how he truly felt this whole time?

“Why take me out on all these dates then if you strictly wanted it to be just sex? It’s not like everyone in the club doesn’t know anyways so this ruining your reputation bullshit doesn’t make much sense. Or were you just hoping that things would work out and you could throw me away when you got bored?”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t want a relationship with you. I took you out on dates to be nice so we could keep things like this between us. If I had known you were going to catch feelings for me I wouldn’t have done all this.”

“You’re such an asshole. You were giving me mixed signals this whole time, taking me out and treating me like a girlfriend, holding my hand and shit and you expected me not to catch feelings? Just so I’d stay fucking you in hopes that I dont realize just how much you suck? You’re a dick, Donghyun.”

He didn’t have it in him to try to argue with you or calm you down, getting up from the sofa.

“I feel like I’ve said a lot of things that were taken out of context. If you would like to talk more about this then let me know. But for the record, I do apologize for all of this. I wouldn’t have done it if I knew this is how things would go.”

“You can take your apology and shove it up your ass, Donghyun.”

You basically push him out of your apartment, slamming the door in his face. You waited until you heard his footsteps walk away to silently sob to yourself for not seeing his true colors sooner. 

༄ ༄ ༄

Woonhak:

A normally very sweet yet childish boy that had so much love to give you. His passive aggressive tendencies towards his friends would always make you laugh, his embarrassment at being babied by them entertaining to you. He could be the most perfect boyfriend ever, when he didn’t have anger issues. Even though he would never admit to it, Woonhak was very sensitive and it was very apparent when he was angry or ticked off. It didn’t help that he couldn’t control himself when he was angry, often opting to yell at the person that made him mad. 

The first time you saw him angry, he was in an argument with Jaehyun. With their comeback approaching quickly, tensions between all the boys were high and all the criticisms were getting to them. While the others had more sensibility and maturity when it came to controlling their anger, Woonhak would just explode. You had walked into the practice room to deliver dinner to the boys, a simple meal you got from the food stand down the road. You heard yelling come from the practice room but you just assumed it was an instructor giving them directions for their comeback stage. But upon walking in, you see Woonhak and Jaehyun fighting, screaming about the performance. 

You were quite soft spoken yourself, so hearing Woonhak yell like that scared you, making you drop the food on the floor, alerting the two boys of your presence. They both looked at you seething, but Jaehyun’s expression softened up when he saw you there, standing frozen as the food had started leaking from the bag and onto the floor. Woonhak looks at you but just huffs and walks away, probably embarrassed that you had to see that. You slowly clean up the food in shock, Jaehyun apologizing while helping you clean. 

You go to see Woonhak after and see that he had tear stains down his cheeks, visible through his messed up makeup. Thinking you were Jaehyun, he started yelling again, asking to be left alone before looking back at you, seeing the tears in your eyes in fear of being yelled at by him. He quickly apologizes to you before walking away, mad at himself for being such an idiot and blowing up at you for no reason. You were scared and upset, not being able to handle being yelled at from anyone, especially your boyfriend. 

You had waited for him to come to you and when he did, he immediately apologized again and hugged you, asking for your forgiveness. You of course said yes, as long as he doesn’t yell at you ever again. He agreed and you guys were fine for a while. After the comeback and promotions, they were right back to practicing for another comeback plus the first part of their tour. You had learned that Woonhak just needed space when preparing for comebacks, so you always gave him distance when he was at his busiest, but recently, everything seemed to piss him off, including you. 

You would be at his dorm, preparing food for the boys after practice and he would come home mad, stressed and tired. You’d politely offer him a try of the food you are making, only to be swatted away by him and ignored, making you feel less than adequate. He did this a couple times and your patience slowly dwindled, until you met your breaking point. 

A particularly rough afternoon had resulted in him getting into a fight with Taesan over lyrics to their new song. He was being reprimanded for trying to add lyrics that were shot down multiple times. You just so happened to get caught in crossfire, and he would blame you, saying that it was your constant need for his attention that distracted him. Upon hearing this you felt the tears well up in your eyes. 

“Is that what you think of me? A distraction to your music career for simply wanting to be by your side?”

Taesan looked like a deer in headlights, excusing himself from the situation, afraid of feeling your wrath. 

“Y/N, you know that's not what I mean, I’m just frustrated.”

“That's the issue Kim Woonhak, you’re ALWAYS frustrated. You're always stressed and there's always something wrong. Anytime I try to help you, you treat me like I’m a burden and I can never be good enough to help you. You always ignore me when I’m here so I’ve stopped asking for your attention in hopes that you’d come to me for once but you never do. Do you even want to be with me anymore?”

Tears were flowing down his cheeks not being able to hold them back any longer after your confession. 

“Y-Y/N, i love you so much. I’m sorry I’m so busy… I want to be with you I swear I can treat you right I just need some time during this comeback and–”

“I’ve given you nothing but time, Woonhak. I don’t have any more of my time to give you. I can’t stay here while you yell at me and I can’t stand the fact that you think I’m the one holding you back. So I won’t be here to hold you back anymore, Kim Woonhak. We’re done.”

You can no longer hold your tears back, letting them roll down your face and onto the ground as you slowly pack up your belongings, giving him one last hug before leaving, wishing him luck on his upcoming comeback and tour. 

[jomiddlemarch]

for dearest you will always be

If anyone observed that following his nuptials to Miss Woodhouse, Mr. Knightley, while in company, referred to his wife exclusively as Mrs. Knightley, it seemed no one was inclined to remark upon it, ascribing it to the gentleman’s well-known propriety and elegant manners, regarding it as yet another sign of the exemplary quality of the aristocracy in the neighborhood of Highbury, despite the frequent complaints of Mrs. Elton to the contrary.

No one, perhaps, except Mrs. Weston and only when she sat in her sunny morning room with her former charge, a plentiful array of cakes and biscuits accompanying the tea that had been brought in as Mrs. Knightley’s call was expected to far exceed the traditional quarter of an hour which those who were visited by Mrs. Elton often found themselves thanking the good Lord and good Ton for establishing.

“I admit I have noticed, dear Emma, that Mr. Knightley does not use your Christian name when you are among others, even those of us who are old and, I would venture to say, dear friends and have known you both under less formal appellation and situation,” Mrs. Weston said. Mr. Weston would have said when Emma was in leading strings and George was in short dresses, but Mrs. Weston was more delicate about these things.

Emma laughed and took a sip of her tea. It was prettily done, a reflection of Mrs. Weston’s tutelage.

“I’ve never heard Mr. Weston call my husband George, not once.”

“He would be more likely to say only Knightley, I agree,” Mrs. Weston said, which was a half-truth, as her husband referred to their neighbor as George when he felt the man was acting the sage before he’d acquired the years required for wisdom. “But Mr. Knightley himself had been wont to call you Emma, perhaps not at table, but in conversation that might be overheard. Especially if your sister and his brother were of the party. It does not trouble you, that he should be so formal?”

Emma thought back to the evening she had asked much the same question of her husband, when they had retired for the night and he was giving her hair the hundred strokes her lady’s maid ought, save that he’d begged the task the first morning she’d woken as Mrs. George Knightley and it had been her very great pleasure to accede. It had taken her a fortnight to be sure he was not calling her Emma outside of her bedchamber and she had been apprehensive when she inquired, so much so that he’d stroked her furrowed brow before he’d answered.

“I cannot call you Emma, my dear Emma, dearest Emma, when we are with others, for it recalls to me too intensely calling you so when you are in dishabille, in my arms. In my bed, naked,” he’d said softly, then leaned over to graze her temple with his, kissing her throat, his hand at her shoulder coaxing her to rise from her seat, to be turned and held in his embrace. 

“Emma, my dear Emma, you beguile me, bewitch me, beloved,” he muttered, his palm cupping the back of her head, the other possessive at her hip. “The scent of you, the taste of your lips, your skin, your desire—you make me dizzy, make me a fool—”

“Oh,” she’d gasped, only that, and then he’d lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed, his body pressed hard against hers with an escalating carnal urgency it had taken a sacrament to make virtue and not the most delicious, salacious vice.

“Dearest, how could I let anyone hear me call you that when it means this,” he said, striving closer, a hand raising the hem of her night-rail, with a terrible, wonderful confidence pursuing those intimacies which left her overwhelmed and panting, her appetite tempted as it was sated. “Dearest Emma, when I call you that, I mean you are mine, body and soul, I mean I have run out of any other words, dearest, yes, like that, just like that—”

They had barely slept that night, by daybreak their voices hoarse, and when he’d called her dearest as the housemaid brought in her chocolate, Emma had blushed and shivered, making George chuckle and give her a most knowing look that had her diving beneath the coverlet, waiting for him to seek her out.

“I’m very content with Mr. Knightley,” Emma said to her former governess. “He is everything circumspect and proper and it is an honor to have the company reminded I am his wife, held in his highest esteem and respect.”

“I am quite convinced,” Mrs. Weston said, her brown eyes merry. “He shall not be distressed though if I call you my dear Emma, from time to time, as our long acquaintance supersedes the duration of your marriage and of course, having had the duty of educating you, I sometimes revert back to my old ways.”

“He shall not be distressed by that at all, Mrs. Weston,” Emma replied. “Though I think he derives nearly as great delight as I do in hearing me called Mrs. Knightley, unless John is doing it to tease Isabella and me to distraction!”

Written for Janeuary 2025 @janeuary-month Day 20, prompt: dearest

[annakwashere]

Designed another Christmas skin, say hi to Snowglobe Sprout!

(Without sticky note)

Variants below

[terrestrialnoob]

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

[tiza0925]

Hello! I'm new to this but have you ever thought about any of your favorite characters while they're in the act and you look down at a certain part and they're so big on you that it scares you but they're pretty sure it could fit.I don't know if you could write something like that, sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.

hellooo, absolutely love this prompt so much ty for this ♡

men that make it fit | 18+

warnings/tags: nsfw, afab/female!reader, size difference, fingering, pet names, praise kink, squirting, raw sex, implied multiple orgasms, large cocks ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Big men who just cover your entire body with theirs when they’re on top of you. 

Guys who make you feel so small when you’re on their lap, their hands are so damn big that they can cover your entire waist, legs, and hands—practically engulfing you. 

Big men that just pin you to the mattress while making out with you, they’re so strong without needing to try, and you probably should feel scared by the difference in strengths but god—you feel so secure. 

And you know he’ll take care of you even if he can hurt you sometimes—never on purpose unless you want it—because of how massive he is. 

Guys who feel just a little bad when they hear you cry from them pushing their thick fingers inside you—stretching your poor cunt and making you leak all over his hand as he curls his fingers inside your plush walls, coaxing out a throbbing orgasm from you. 

“Such a sweet little thing for me,” You hear him murmur, watching as your face twists with pleasure, and he can see the slight worry in your eyes as he fucks you with his fingers. “My baby is taking me so well already.” 

But can you take his cock? 

Fuck—what if it’s too big? 

It must be—his fingers are already too much for you—his dick will be nearly impossible to fit inside you. 

“You think you can be good and take my cock?” You whine, feeling heady and muddy as he pins both of your hands above your head on the bed, while his other hand continues to twist and curl inside you, his thumb pressing and rubbing your swollen clit. “I want to feel my favourite pussy, sweetheart.” 

But you suck in a shaky breath, eyes wide and scared because you know you can’t fit all of him in, and he chuckles breathlessly as he kisses your lips so softly, making you melt against him. 

“Don’t be scared,” He kisses your cheek, then gives your trembling lower lip a gentle pull with his mouth, trying to get you relaxed as he strums his fingers through your sopping folds, his voice low and deceptively soothing. “I’ll be gentle with you, okay?” 

He always is—and that’s the thing. 

No matter how gentle he tries to be—he still ends up stretching you so wide that you think you might actually split in half, the sting of him inside you being too much that you cry sometimes.

He kisses you, and reassures you, hand running up and down your body to spread goosebumps all over your skin. 

Then he’s pushing his pants off to let his fat cock bounce free—it lands on your belly, all hot and heavy, and your breath hitches as electricity sparks through your body—and your heart rate doubles with every passing moment, just waiting for him to stuff you with his cock. 

“Relax for me,” He says while guiding his dick to slide between your plush pussy, letting your slick folds hug his length and coat them in juices as he rocks his hips—his cock head bumping against your clit every time his hips are flushed against yours. 

“You feel that, baby?” Your lashes flutter, your eyes half-lidded as he works you up, making your cunt pulse as he glides his heavy cock over it. “You’re gonna be so good and fit all of me, okay?” 

You gulp, but you still nod—because you want to be good for him. 

You want to feel him and make him feel good. 

And he watches you, focused, taking in every twitch of your features as he slowly pushes the head of his dick inside you—his eyes alight with heat when he sees the way your mouth pops open with a gasp, already feeling the intense stretch of him. 

“You’re okay, baby,” he shushes you, sliding his hands under your thighs to guide them around his waist, and you whine as you hook your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, sloppily kissing him as he waits for you to adjust. “You feel so tight already—fuck—”

He groans, his voice vibrating against you, and you begin to breathe heavily as he pushes his fat cock into you—making you feel every agonizing inch as your pussy struggles to swallow him whole. 

“I—“ Your sentence gets cut short as you choke, already feeling him in your lungs and he’s only halfway in, “I can’t—”

“You can,” One of his hands comes up to swipe a fallen tear on your cheek with his thumb, while his other hand pins you to the bed by the waist. “I know you can, baby, you always did before.”

Which is true—you always did but—

It’s just so fucking big—holy shit—

You bite your lip, and your eyes squeeze shut as you try your hardest to relax—your fluids being pushed out as he lodges his dick inside your warm, plush walls, causing a wet mess all over your thighs and bed. 

You hold him as if you’re clinging onto dear life—taking all of him as he kisses you through it—until his hips finally press against your ass, his cock so deep that your limbs grow numb and you swear you can orgasm already. 

“There you go, sweetheart,” He purrs, waiting a moment as your pussy throbs around him, feeling abused and soaked, and he smiles down at you so achingly soft. “Taking me all like a good girl for me.” 

Then he pulls back—

“Oh god—” And you keen when he rocks his hips forward, sliding his cock along your walls, and he sets a pace of fucking you—getting you wet and your eyes to roll back as he becomes greedy with your pussy. 

“Look, baby,” He grunts, thrusting his cock in and out, his length coming out slick and creamy from your arousal, and he grips your face—fingers squishing your cheeks—to make you look down. “Look how well you’re taking me.” 

Your vision is foggy, you’re barely able to comprehend anything except for the dick inside your sore cunt, and you blink blearily as you try to look at what he wants you to see and—

Fuck.

You watch the way his cock disappears into your pussy, his girth forcing its way into you—and you let out a shaky breath at the way you’re taking it all in. 

Just like he said you would. 

“Told you I’ll make it fit, sweetheart, I always do,” You hear him murmur, and you force yourself to relax into a ragged breath as your limps melt into the mattress beneath you.

You feel like you’re being split in half as he fucks you over and over, bringing you higher and higher until you’re cumming all over him—gushing out liquid as you squirt on his cock with a wet moan, his name on your tongue—

And he takes good care of you throughout it all. His aftercare overwhelms you with cuddles of love and affirmation.

He loves you too much, anyway.

End.

Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, Atsumu, Suna, Gojo, Choso, Sakusa, Geto, Sukuna, Nanami, Akaza, Oda, Kuroo, Hinata, plus any of your fav characters ♡

Masterpost

[alex51324]

So, the NDA signed by producers of The Apprentice just expired, and one of them has published a tell-all article. Most of the article is about how they used standard reality-TV tricks to portray Trump as being wealthy and intelligent, when in reality he was, and is, a deeply indebted buffoon.

The money shot, however, comes when Trump and the producers are preparing for climax of the final episode, when the winner will be decided.

Per the FCC's rules for game shows, producers could not be involved in deciding who would be fired each week, or who would ultimately win: it had to be Trump's decision alone, like contestants and viewers were told it was. The producers could, and did, give him a presentation about the strengths and weaknesses of the contestants each time he had to make a decision. These were recorded, in case questions ever arose about whether the producers had crossed the line.

So, for the final episode, there were two contestants remaining. Both were men, one white, the other Black. They'd both done well in the final challenge of the competition. As the producers were summarizing the points for an against each candidate, this happened:

“Yeah,” he says to no one in particular, “but, I mean, would America buy a n— winning?” Kepcher’s pale skin goes bright red. I turn my gaze toward Trump. He continues to wince. He is serious, and he is adamant about not hiring Jackson.

In the finished program, Trump chose the white contestant as the winner.

(Four years later, Trump would propagate the baseless conspiracy theory that Barack Obama was not a native-born US citizen and therefore had not legitimately won the presidency.)

The article also describes how women working on the production faced discrimination based on whether or not Trump wanted to look at them while they did their jobs:

While leering at a female camera assistant or assessing the physical attributes of a female contestant for whoever is listening, he orders a female camera operator off an elevator on which she is about to film him. “She’s too heavy,” I hear him say. Another female camera operator, who happens to have blond hair and blue eyes, draws from Trump comparisons to his own Ivanka Trump. “There’s a beautiful woman behind that camera,” he says toward a line of 10 different operators set up in the foyer of Trump Tower one day. “That’s all I want to look at.”

And there's a third anecdote where he pressures a woman producer to break the FCC rules, while being casually misogynistic toward a contestant:

Trump corners a female producer and asks her whom he should fire. She demurs, saying something about how one of the contestants blamed another for their team losing. Trump then raises his hands, cupping them to his chest: “You mean the one with the …?” He doesn’t know the contestant’s name. Trump eventually fires her.

This information is pretty unlikely to persuade anyone who wasn't already persuaded by any of the other things Trump has done and said, which would for anyone else be a career-defining scandal. But it is a useful reminder of who we're dealing with.

(Link is to Slate, an x-number-of-free-articles-a-month site, but the incognito window trick works.)

[fairy-angel222]

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐀𝐖 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—telling the jjk men to forget about the condom.

ft. 𝗀𝗈𝗃𝗈, 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗈, 𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂, 𝗇𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂, 𝗌ukun𝖺, 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗈

content. smut, choking, praise, breeding, spit, unprotected sex, dirty talk, squirting, finger sucking, passing out, belly bulge, slight cervix fucking

requested by: anon

͙͘͡★ 𝑮𝑶𝑱𝑶

Grins when you moan out the words. Feeling his teeth against your skin as he kissed up your neck, stopping just below your ear with a breathy chuckle.

"Yeah? Wan' feel my veins sliding against those walls when i fuck you baby?" He cooed, watching as you nodded with a whimper, tugging at the rubber material stretched over his cock.

"P-please, wan’ it so bad." you choked out a mewl, greedy cunt aching to feel him deep inside you.

He hummed, slender finger pushing back the hair on your forehead, his head tilting as he ran it across your bottom lip instead. “What do you wanna feel, hmm? Tell me how you want it.”

"Raw.. wanna feel you raw." Your face burned as Gojo continued to rub his cock teasingly between sopping folds. “My pleasure baby.”

Your boyfriend tugged off the only form of barrier between you two. Your lips parted in a loud moan when Gojo thrusted into you. Back arching off of the bed as he found a pace, rocking you back and forth each time his cock prodded your gummy spot.

“Satoruu, so good— haah. Can feel all of you. So, so deep— fuck.” You cried out, arms reaching up to scratch at his back as your legs wrapped around his waist. The man slamming his hips down roughly onto your pelvis.

He was right. You could feel every inch of his cock rubbing against your gummy walls. His full length taking its time to kiss your spot before bottoming deep, your head falling back with a series of loud mewls.

“Satoru.”

“You like feelin’ me like this baby?” He rasped, breathing getting heavier when you clenched down on him. “Fuck- can feel all of you too. Slutty pussy’s squeezing me so tight.”

It was so much more intimate than usual, being able to feel all of each other was sending you over the edge. Your noises only became louder and as you neared your high. Eyes rolling back and brain turning to mush with every roll of his hips. A high pitched mewl falling past your lips when he reached down to rub your sensitive clit.

“Should just pump ya full of my cum while we’re at it. Fill you real good.” He grunted, thrusts hard and bruising as he bullied your pussy stuffed. An incoherent babble falling past your lips when his lips brushed over yours. Blue eyes darkening as he grinned, “Gonna do just that baby. You want that? Want my cum leaking out of your perfect pussy?”

You nodded with a shaky whimper, body trembling as you dumbly cried out his name, squirting messily onto him and his cock. Gojo letting out a deep groan as his thrusts became sloppy, hammering even deeper into you until he stilled with tensed abs. Pumping your stomach round and full with his cum.

“There we go, fuck. Take it nice and s-shit— deep. Good girl.” Pressing a kiss to your lips and pulling out of you, letting his cum seep out of you in thick spurts as you shivered from the loss of contact. He’d been waiting for that for way too long.

͙͘͡★ 𝑮𝑬𝑻𝑶

Raises an eyebrow when you stop him from sliding on the condom. A smirk eventually gracing his face making your cheeks heat up. “Oh? My girl wants to get dirty tonight hmm?”

You let out a small whine, your hands over your face pulling out a hum from your boyfriend. You sure about this baby?”

“Mhm.. wanna feel you raw.”

“Whatever you want princess.” He wasted no time before he was behind you. A deep arch in your back with your ass in the air and face buried in a pillow. Your grip tight on the sheets as Geto’s thick veiny cock pushed into you.

You let out a mewl, his length grazing your walls while pressing into your g spot.

“Fuck. Didn’t think this pussy could get any better.” He groaned, a hand on the back of your neck with the other on your hip. A loud cry escaping your throat when he began fucking into you relentlessly.

“Suguru, oh f-fuckk. Nngh— so good.” you moaned, eyes teary as he continuously slammed into you, rocking your body with each of his mean thrusts.

You could feel him so deep inside you, practically kissing at your cervix every time his hips landed onto your ass. There was so much more contact, being able to feel every inch of his curved length as it pummeled your gummy spot. Your cries of his name muffled as you drooled onto the sheets beneath you.

“You feel that princess?” He grunted, lifting one of his legs so that he could roll his hips into you. A loud moan leaving your mouth as you nodded, clearly able to feel any change in his movements. “Feel good ain’t it?” Keeping up his pace until you were falling apart under him.

Brain turning to mush as your eyes rolled back, Geto pressing down harder into the back of your neck to support his high thrusts. Almost bouncing himself off of the flesh of your ads just so you could feel his deep.

“S-suguru. So good Suguru. So— haah,” you could barely process your own words. Mind filled with nothing but how good he felt inside you. Stretching your cunt so good as you clenched around him, wetness trailing his cock with your slick.

“Pretty pussy’s so greedy f’ me. Look at how much she’s sucking me in.” He rasped, breathing speeding up as he let out a series of groans and grunts. “Fuck, gonna cum for me baby? Cum for me nice and hard while i fill you up?”

You nodded shakily, body trembling as a choked scream echoed through the room. “F-fuck.” Letting out cries of his name as you fell off the edge. Making a mess on his cock while his thrusts became sloppy.

“Shit, can i cum in you princess?” He breathed, your dumbed down hum of confirmation being enough for him as he stilled. Coating your insides with ropes after ropes of his sticky cum.

͙͘͡★ 𝑻𝑶𝑱𝑰

Is elated when you utter the words. Immediately stopping whatever he was doing and practically carrying you to your bedroom. “Fucking finally. I hate the feeling of that shit on my dick.” He smirked, towering over you until you fell back onto the bed.

The large man on top of you with a groan as he buried his face into your neck. “Gonna break that little pussy tonight. You’re on the pill right baby?”

“Yes.” You whimpered, Toji’s hand snaking around your throat with a hum, “Good.”

It wasn’t long before you were naked, your knees pressed into your chest as your loud moans and mewls filled the room. Toji’s broad hips slamming roughly into yours as he fucked you deep.

Thick girth hitting your g spot with each speedy thrust. You let out a whiny cry, your lips parted in short mewls that matched his harsh movements. Body being rocked into the bed at an inhuman pace as your sopping pussy was bullied.

“T-tojii— nngh, so g-ood.” You whimpered, Toji’s grip on your neck tightening as he leaned further onto you. “Yeah? Feel me deep in ya?” Grinning darkly when you nodded, “Let’s see how much deeper i can go hmm?” You let out a tiny sob when he forced his cock even deeper, stretching you open to take all of him as he bottom out.

You couldn’t help your loud noises as you felt every part of your boyfriend’s dick inside you. Feeling every vein and every curve rubbing against your slippery walls as his hips rammed forward.

“Needed to feel this bare pussy f’ so long now, fuck.” He grunted deeply, “She’s so fucking greedy.”

You mewled shakily, “O-oh fuck- Toji, ‘m close. Can feel you so deep.” Your boyfriend keeping up his pace with a groan. “Open f’ me baby.” Letting a glob of his spit fall onto your tongue, a twitch running through his cock when you swallowed tearily.

He was fucking you stupid, brain fuzzy and your vision blurred as you were brought closer and closer to orgasm. Chest heaving heavily when your eyes met Toji’s. “Look so fucking pretty under me.” Your pussy spasming at the gruff undertone of his voice.

You let out a string of cries of his name, your eyes rolling back as your legs quivered. Toji’s hand threatening to tighten as he growled lowly. “Look at me when you cum baby.”

Your eyes met his, the man’s thrusts sending pleasurable shivers through your body as you reached your high. Trying your hardest to keep your eyes open as you came. A slap on your clit forcing them back on his as you made a mess.

“That’s it. My messy fucking girl. ‘M gon’ fill you up so good.” He breathed, sloppy movements coming to a halt as he buried himself deep inside you. Pumping you full with his hot cum while pressing his lips to yours. It was about time you let him do that.

͙͘͡★ 𝑵𝑨𝑵𝑨𝑴𝑰

He was pleasantly surprised to hear you utter the words, chin still glistening with your juices as he pulled away from your wet pussy. “You sure you don’t want me to use one sweetheart?”

“Nuh uh, wanna feel you raw.” You assure, tugging the man closer to you to sit him down. Nanami pulling you onto his lap with a small smile when you whimpered, your sensitive clit accidentally bumping into his thigh.

“Whatever you want sweetheart.” Pressing his lips onto yours for a kiss, allowing you to taste your sweetness as he ran his cock between your folds, collecting your wetness before lining himself up.

You moaned when the large hands on your hips guided you to sink down. His thick cock stuffing you full as you struggled to take all of him, already feeling him deep inside you.

You could feel all of him, pale colored cock grazing your walls perfectly as he reached further and further into you. The outline of his tip visible on your belly when the underside of your thighs touched his lap.

Nanami groaned, hands on your hips helping you to move up and down while you rolled your hips back and forth. Loud mewls falling past your lips as your arms draped over his shoulders, nails digging into his muscular back when he sped up the pace.

“Kento— so good. So deep.” You cried, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your g spot was pressed into over and over again. The feeling of him kissing your walls so sweetly making your mind grow foggy.

“Look you beautiful when you ride me. Feels so amazing, sweet pussy was made to take my cock like this.” He grunted, watching as your head fell back with a high pitched moan, feeling another orgasm swirling in you.

Nanami’s breaths sped, guiding you to move even faster on his length as his name fell off your tongue. “Kentoo— ‘m so close. Want you to cum in me.”

Nanami groaned, mouth latching onto one of your breasts as you clenched down on him, your hands finding their way to tangle in blonde strands as your back arched.

“Kento, oh f-fuck.” Your toes curled as your eyes closed. Body trembling lightly when you messily gushed onto his thighs. The man feeling his cock twitch as he used your cunt to milk him dry. Allowing his cum to paint your insides a sticky white.

His hands never stopped moving you, whiny mewls leaving your lips at the slight overstimulation as he kissed up your neck. “Don’t know how i’ll ever be able to go back sweetheart. All i wanna feel is your bare pussy like this.” He breathed, letting his hips do all the work in fucking you to yet another orgasm.

͙͘͡★ 𝑺𝑼𝑲𝑼𝑵𝑨

Sukuna would never tell you, but he sometimes never used condoms anyway. He only made you think that he did. He just needed to feel you. So he’d fuck you till you passed out, giving you no chance of finding out.

When you tell him you finally want to not use one he grins with a head tilt, fingers under your chin as he backed you up onto a wall. “Hmm? Why’s that?” Eyeing you hungrily making you whimper under his gaze.

“Just.. wanna feel you raw.”

Your boyfriend licked his lips with a hum, “I can definitely make that happen.” Not giving you a chance to so much as blink before his arms were hooked under your thighs, lifting you up against the wall with a deep inhale. “Wet f’ me already huh? I love that.”

He didn’t bother taking off your underwear, ripping your panties right down the middle while your legs secured their place around his hips.

You moaned loudly when he stuffed his full length into you. Able to feel every part and every inch of his cock against your walls when he began fucking up into you. Slamming his hips up at a toe curling speed that had your back arching against the wall.

“K-unaa,” you mewled, your boyfriend’s cock forcing its way in all the way. Leaving a painful stretch as his tip threatened to push past your cervix.

You let out a string of cries, arms holding onto him tight as you were moved up and down at an inhuman pace. “Fucking pussy’s so perfect.” He groaned, his movements remaining unaltered as he brought a finger to run across your swollen bottom lip. Shoving it into your mouth to sit at the back of your tongue. “Taking me so well.”

You moaned, eyes clouding with tears as your spot was relentlessly slammed into. Turning you to putty in his hands while your brain went dumb. “Kunaa— feels- nngh.. feels s’ g-good.”

“Yeah? Like when i turn you into my little brain dead doll?” He grunted, watching as you nodded with a whiny cry. “Mhm, can feel you so deep.” His single hand on your hips allowing him to fuck you to his liking.

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, your legs beginning to tremble as your noises got louder. Eyes rolling back with an incoherent babble of his name, letting out a short scream when his spit coating finger reached down to rub at your clit. Circling the small bud with a wide smirk.

“Gonna make mess f’ me yeah? Let that pussy spray me like it always does?”

His words went unprocessed in your head, feeling yourself slowly slip in and out of consciousness as you were moved up and down his thick cock like a ragdoll. His cock leaving a visible bulge in your stomach as he neared his own orgasm.

You came with a choked sob, head resting against the wall with an opened mouth. Body quivering uncontrollably in your boyfriend’s arms as you squirted harshly. Coating his cock and legs in your wetness.

Sharp teeth bit at your neck as Sukuna’s thrusts became sloppier. Finally coming to a stop so he could pump you to the brim with his cum. Something that he’d wanted to do for a very long time. “It’s about time i got to fill you up like this.” He breathed, glancing up to see you yet again passed out.

Sukuna chuckled. His size and his speed put together was just too much for you.

͙͘͡★ 𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑶

His dick hardened the second you said it. Pouncing on you with widened eyes, “Really?”

You giggled, The boy looking at you with pure need in his puppy like eyes. Hoping that you were being serious about it.

“Yes baby, really.” You smiled, feeling your boyfriend’s erect cock pressing into you. “You sure?” He mumbled, “I won’t be able to pull out.” You pressed a short kiss to his lips, “I don’t want you to pull out, wanna feel you raw.”

That was all he needed to hear. Handling you on your knees with your back pressed against his chest. His hips rutting roughly into you as he basked in the feeling of your warm cunt around his bare cock.

“So good.” He moaned, “You’re so snug.” Hands on your waist as your head fell back against his shoulder, giving the boy the perfect view of your lewdly bouncing breasts.

You mewled, Choso’s cock rolling into your g spot at a pace that drove you insane. Your moans competing to be just as loud as his as you too got lost in the feeling of his bare cock. You could feel both his distinct veins grazing your walls when his pace sped up.

“Nngh— feels so perfect. Wanna fuck you like this forever.” He whimpered, burying his face into your neck as his legs weakened. Finding yourself lying on the bed with Choso hovering over you from behind, slamming his hips down onto you sloppily. Loud squelching joining skin slapping in the air.

“C-choso. Haah, so good baby.” You cried, back arching as he shoved himself even deeper at the praise. Chasing his high while bringing you to yours.

He let out a string of whiny cries, the snapping of his hips losing their rhythm as his cock twitched. Not allowing himself to cum until you did.

It was just so hard, you felt so good. Gripping his cock tightly every time you clenched down on him. The boy unable to help the way he fucked into you with desperation.

You and Choso let out matching mewls, your hands gripping the sheets as your spot was hammered at a merciless pace. Your moans turning into choked sobs as your body shook along with the bed. Toes curling and eyes rolling back as you neared your orgasm.

“Choso— nngh, cummin’ baby.”

“Please, cum f’ me. Need you to cum so i can too.” he breathed with a tremble, voice going up a pitch when you began squirting. Drenching his cock in your juices as your pussy spasmed.

Choso moaned in content, hips eventually halting their movement as he buried himself in you. Spurting all of the thick substance into you with a sigh. He kept himself in that position, his cock preventing any of his cum from escaping as he began to roll his hips once more. Addicted to how amazing your pussy felt.

[honey-tongued-devil]

Arcane preference reacting to a s/o with a mental health issues (eating)

My disclaimer, as someone with this issue, I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted. I’ve actually been thinking about it for a while, but I was a bit cowardly about doing it, so I’m taking the opportunity now. I don’t want to go out of character, so I’m sorry if some characters come across as harsher than others. Unfortunately, I know I should write the name of the illness, but if I post it that way, Tumblr will take it down.

Jayce:

- He’s academically intelligent, but it takes him far too long to notice that something’s wrong. But you can’t blame him, it’s something so far removed from him that he couldn’t have understood it sooner.

- When he does realize, his first reaction is panic.

- Jayce can’t feel like just a blade of grass; he feels emotions deeply, taking on any blame, especially if something happens to the people he loves. His first thought is that he did something to make you feel that way, inadequate.

- But once the panic phase ends, the responsibility phase begins.

- He does the grocery shopping, he cooks, and his workouts become more regular, where he has you climb onto his back while doing push-ups or holds you in his arms during other exercises.

- He doesn’t know why you do it, but the quickest way to show you that your weight isn’t a problem is by showing you how easily he lifts you.

- And maybe, if you feel up to it, he can hold you in his arms with one arm supporting you while he cooks, letting you taste various ingredients.

Viktor:

- Unlike Jayce, it only takes two suspicious behaviors in a row for him to understand what’s happening. It’s something far from his world, sure, but he recognizes it.

- And he confronts you. He doesn’t beat around the bush, doesn’t stammer; he might even sound angry because he doesn’t understand why you’d hurt yourself like this and willingly give up your well-being.

- I won’t lie, I doubt that an open discussion about something this delicate with him wouldn’t lead to at least one hysterical cry.

- But he’s not brutal for the sake of being brutal; his suffering and frustration turn into anger. It takes him a while to calm down, but he won’t accept compromises.

- You’ll have meals together at home, either returning to your rooms together or straight to the house, so no one can see you and you won’t feel bad.

- And he won’t force you, he tries to handle it with as much care as possible, but there’s no day that goes by without him getting up from the table if you haven’t eaten at least two food items per meal.

- He loves you too much to see you hurt yourself in that way, and knowing that he can't do anything about it makes him feel powerless.

Ekko:

- It takes him a week—not to understand, but to process it.

- Having grown up in total poverty, the idea of giving up food “for whim” makes him react in a way that is only human.

- And the whole thing is too distant for him: everyone’s skin is grayish, 90% of the population of the Lanes has missing limbs and monstrous prosthetics, and everyone’s goal is to survive as long as possible. What does it mean that you’re against your own survival??

- As unsupportive as he might be regarding the issue, he becomes incredibly vigilant and concerned.

- He’ll always make sure you’re warm enough, that you’re comfortable, and no matter how frustrated he is, he’ll always try to stay close to you, even just holding you in bed until you fall asleep.

- Every single comment you make about your body, he’ll respond with, “Don’t talk about my partner like that,” 

- no one can speak badly of you, not even you.

Vander:

- The most understanding: he was young once too, and although in his size meant an advantage, he and Silco snuck into various galas when they were younger, and there, even though he never had these problems, he would feel a strange sensation seeing that he was the biggest in the room or that it was hard to find someone to steal clothes from that would fit him.

- He doesn’t lecture you or anything like that, he doesn’t get angry despite how he grew up; he just feels sadness for you that you can’t see how little that complex matters and how beautiful you already are.

- His compromise is vegetables. If you don’t feel like eating every meal every day, it doesn’t matter, but at least four days a week, you have to have three meals.

- And for the rest, he’ll cook, making sure to prepare the best dishes made from vegetables so that you don’t feel guilty and your body doesn’t deteriorate.

- But he doesn’t support your illness, he simply ensures that you get everything you need and never go below the necessary intake without having you feeling guilty about it.

Silco:

- Hoping that the most attentive and watchful man in the lanes wouldn't notice how, suddenly, meals go from moments of lightness to something you try to avoid at all costs is a bit foolish, but he says nothing.

- He waits for as long as necessary, basically to see how long it lasts and how much you're not planning to talk to him.

- When he realizes you won’t, not anytime soon, he waits for you to be alone in his office, where you’ll find a slice of cake on his desk. Sure, it’s a low blow, but it’s also the fastest way to get you to confront the issue without too many escape routes.

- He’s a big fan of the saying “dirty laundry is washed in the family,” so if you act strange about meals in front of others, he won’t allow questions or jokes, but in private, he won’t accept “no” for an answer.

- He has enough problems already without you crying from hunger pains or having psychotic episodes due to sugar deficiency, so as long as you're under his watch, under Zaun's eye, he won't let you live with unhealthy standards.

- During meals, he becomes the strictest. He doesn’t say anything, but one look is enough to make you think twice about contradicting him. In the evening, though, when your mental health is most fragile, he becomes gentler, comforting you as much as you need.

Jinx:

- You find fertile ground, but like any good bearer of the same issue: she feels she can do it, but you cannot.

- Being with her or in her space becomes like a live-action version of Thumbelina: she’ll leave sweets, chocolates, things she knows you like to encourage you to eat so you can’t hurt yourself.

- She usually forgets to eat herself when she’s caught up in her studies and work, but if she has someone to care for, it doesn’t matter how, she’ll make sure to remember. Even if it means setting a few colorful bombs with timers.

- She feeds you. In the most visible, worst way. It’s easy that if you turn your head, you’ll find a cookie shoved in your mouth unceremoniously.

- And every single tight-fitting outfit disappears from her lair. Magically, whatever clothes you pick up from her pile fit loosely, but if you ask her about it, she’ll claim she doesn’t know what are you talking about.

Vi:

- Want to see Vi in a panic, becoming super protective and possessive in a way? Just wait for one episode, and you’ll see everything you haven’t seen.

- She’ll check on you at least three times a day, and in the evening, when you have pain or a crisis, she’ll run back and forth from the room, thinking about everything she can do to help you feel better without making you feel guilty.

- During meals, she’ll hold you in her arms and insist that you eat, but not aggressively—in a way that’s almost frightened: she’s always been used to fighting big, real monsters, but even when it came to her sister, she could never defeat the invisible ones, and the fear of failing or hurting someone she loved again terrifies her in an agonizing way.

Caitlyn:

- Like Jayce, she’ll also try a more physical way of reassuring you, like body worshipping when you’re alone or working out with you to show you that your weight doesn’t matter.

- She doesn’t know how to react; she realizes it quite quickly but fears that by acknowledging it, she might only make you feel worse.

- One day, she gathers the courage to ask if everything is okay and tells you that she’s noticed those behaviors. When you open up to her, telling her about the issues, she doesn’t respond right away and simply hugs you.

- She becomes more caring, making sure that you don’t have to attend banquets or dinners where you wouldn’t feel comfortable, bringing you food in your room to eat together, and sometimes even leaving the room so as not to put pressure on you.

- When you mention a craving, she immediately springs into action to get it for you, even if you complain that you weren’t serious. Once she understands how your condition works, she orders everything in three portions, so she can eat with you and then be the first to say that she wants more, asking if you want to share the third portion.

- If you have fat accumulated in any area, she’ll knead it with her hands while kissing you, to let you know that she loves every inch of you.

Mel:

- She notices you're having a crisis before you even realize it yourself.

- She’s a ruler, but what she learned from a young age is that a leader must appear reliable and look good, so even if unconsciously, she too sometimes experiences small crises when she feels like she isn’t looking perfect.

- No conversations, no lectures, just an increase in cuddles, moments of intimacy, and later, she brings home sweets.

- “They were a gift to me today at the council,” she lies, but sometimes she says she got them for both of you.

- She doesn’t want to make you feel like you’re in the wrong.

- She knows that when you’re ready and if you want to, you’ll bring up the issue with her, but for now, the best thing she can do is help you get through the episode with euphoria, love, and treats that encourage you to listen to your hunger rather than the illness.

Sevika:

- Like everyone in Zaun, the idea that someone would voluntarily give up food is simply incomprehensible to her.

- But she won’t comment on your problems. She doesn’t intend to invalidate them, but she also won’t encourage it.

- “Are you sure? That’s a bit too little,” will be her comment when you eat something ridiculously small, before making you a proper portion of food herself. If you try to argue, she’ll respond with a smug smile, saying that if you eat that little, you’ll end up breaking when you’re in bed together.

- If a crisis is particularly bad, she’ll try to finish her work as quickly as possible to be able to stay with you for the rest of the day and not leave you alone.

- As much as possible, she’ll try to get the best, freshest, and most natural food, to reassure you that you don’t need to worry, but she’ll never insist that you eat if you say you don’t feel up to it.

- She’ll gesture for you to come sit on her lap and keep you there, occasionally offering you things she knows you like, telling you that she’s really craving them, and if you want them too, she’ll go get them.