#Pretty easy to just not reblog and move on

[softshuji]

𝟐𝟑:𝟎𝟕𝐏𝐌 | 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐉𝐈

Title: A Bit of Me (and a bit of You)

summary: the one where hanma proves he knows you better than you know yourself, and all the reasons he loves you. A bit of a special one this time for my baby <3

cw: fem!reader, pregnancy mentions, pet names (princess, doll, sweetheart, baby, pretty girl) very vague suggestiveness, both shuji and reader are very in love, it's very sweet and soft actually, a little self indulgent, but overall really fluffy and cute. Reblogs appreciated!

Hanma is uncharacteristically quiet tonight in a way he never usually is. 

You put it down to tiredness and you know it’s been a long day of work and other things so you don’t mention that he’s usually more talkative when you go out together. Playful, quick to laugh, quick to make you laugh, a grin inlaying every conversation, the kind of brightness that makes you lean on him, that convinces you again and again that he is the sun.

But not tonight it seems. 

And you’re aware you’re filling the space, filling the conversation by yourself, the occasional hum and word of assent that tells you he’s listening but you sense a change somehow, a frost blossoming from his skin as you make the drive home and he lifts you from the car when you yawn. Wordlessly, a second nature.

‘Mhmm, it was good wasn’t it?’ you say, curled against the crook of Hanma’s neck as he gently places you down on the bedspread.

He bends, all 6’4 of him, hunched over now with a hand on your ankle and the other undoing the straps of your heels as he pulls them from your feet, a soft and reassuring massage of the fine bones and up along your calf because he knows you get cramps in them when you wear heels but you had insisted anyway for the sake of the day and he hasn’t the heart to chastise you when you put in so much, for him.

He hums, lifts your leg with a kiss to your knee, warm lips against your skin just shy of the hem of your red dress and looks up at you from there, the moonlight through the gap in curtain glittering in his eyes, a chilled white that turns the gold flecked in his pupils to a sunflower yellow seeping with a cerulean hue. 

Breathtakingly beautiful, the curls falling over his forehead kissing just shy of his high and proud nose, the sloped and sharp cheekbones that you run your fingers over now as they dance over his cheek. It would be easy. To stay here forever, the kind of beauty, the kind of danger that would have you willingly placing your one life in his big and self assured hands, that would trust he knew what to do with it, the kind you wish you could commit to memory beyond life and death too.

‘I liked it. I’m glad we went there, it was worth waiting on the reservations for I think,’ you say, a yawn hidden again behind your hand and he hums once more, stands to move to the bathroom to fill the water for you as you trail behind him, the red dress now in a heap and stripped down to your panties and his own shirt you’ve found on the end of the bed, the end of it nudging at your thighs as you shiver under the bathroom light. 

He hasn’t taken his suit off yet, and you think there’s something serene in how he bends over the bath to test the water for you, still in the white shirt and striped grey dress pants, a brown leather belt that matches the watch on his wrist, a gold detail that catches the bathroom light. You watch from the door like that, his broad back to you as he pours the muscle soak in the tub and then moves a hand through the hot water, bubbles forming along the clear surface as he splashes a dash of colder water from the taps.

‘I think it’s warm enough but I can add some more cold water if you need it,’ he says. ‘Come on, in you get Sweetheart.’

You step into the bathroom, fluffy slippers left in the doorway. ‘You’re not getting in with me?’

‘Hm? No, not this time Princess.’ 

You hum in assent and he lifts his shirt from you, your arms over your head and a kiss to your temple that he sneaks in before you step out of your panties and into the bath, him in your periphery tossing the clothes into the laundry hamper and your red dress in a separate basket all together. It doesn’t strike you as odd, this distance. You let him be, warmth waiting with your hands out to touch as you brush them against his, pinky locking around his for the briefest of moments in a wordless acknowledgement before your toes touch the steam.

You sigh, audibly as the water works over your skin, your neck leaning on the bathtub and legs unfurling on it’s floor. You look up then, at the height of him crouching down to sit on the edge of the bathtub with you, his shirt sleeves now rolled to the elbow and a few buttons undone and you think of all you could do, would do, have done with him. Of how he feels like this- so close- so big and imposing and almost kneeling at your feet just to be near you and something inside you warms, bursts open with light, a glittery love curling along your spine when the shadow of the light fixture blossoms around his hair, a yellowy buttery halo for your angel, for your reaper and hero who taught you what love was. Even if he doesn’t know, even if it was unintentional.

And you think nothing of this uncharacteristic distance, this coldness that slams against his warmth. You don’t imagine it means anything about you because you trust him more than assuming he’d change about you so easily, and you like- at the end of it all- to have him here, just close to you, within earshot, within words, to touch his hand as he runs it through the water absently, soap suds clinging to his fingers and skin as he skims just shy of you.

‘Baby?’ You say now, a small lapse in conversation later, his hand halted in the water as he runs it to and fro, avoiding your eyes somehow, as he watches your thighs move underneath.

‘Hm? What is it, Pretty Girl?’ His finger moves gently over your knee pulled up to the sides of the tub now, water disappearing down the crease of your skin. 

And sometimes, like now, when he can’t look at you right, when you’re almost too dreamlike to be real and he can smell the scent of your perfume still on the air, warm steam that seems to curve around the bathroom with your name on it, and bites his lip with worry, with fury that he can only have this one life to watch you bath and sit on the end of the tub and separate your laundry and massage your aching legs and it feels too-hypocritically maybe- unfair that it’s so limited, that he can’t keep you beyond this one life, that conquering death is in name only for him. 

You hum, an edge of anxiousness to the end of your voice still even as you attempt to hold it back. ‘You’ve been a little quiet since the restaurant today. Is everything ok?’ And then, because you can’t help it and he loves you for it, because it never means anything more than what it is to him. ‘I didn’t do anything wrong did I?’

He chuckles, an anxiety undulating the deep and raspy baritone of his now sleep-ridden voice, a confidence he doesn’t feel but likes to pretend he does. For you. ‘Mhm no Princess, you didn’t do anything.’

Then. A pause, a beat like a butterfly flapping its wings. ‘Actually…I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me.’ 

Ice corrugates in your veins and you shiver in the hot water, your nerves alert and tense as you nod, slowly, drinking him in as he levels his eyes with yours.

He chews up the words, tastes them and tests them out, tongue heavy and leaden in his mouth, a thick anxiety coating his teeth as he reaches a hand out to your thigh, a crutch to hold for the both of you. 

‘When was…,’ he starts. ‘When was the last time you got your period Doll?’

You freeze, palpable tension simmering in your stomach, heat flushing unbidden across your cheeks that has nothing to do with the water or steam.

‘I…’ You bite your cheek, confusion crunching your brows together in that cute way he loves, lips curling in thought. ‘I’m not sure, a few weeks maybe. It comes late often so I don’t take as much notice of it as I should. I think it was due yesterday though.'

‘Right….’ 

You lean forward, take a hand of his between your own from where it rests against your wet knee. ‘Why are you asking this Baby?’

Like that is how it comes, how the days events unfurl and his voice is low and swelling with fear, a soft and barely perceptible whisper almost lost under the swish of the water around you. ‘You ate a whole cake for dinner today. And that’s good, it’s great. But you didn’t eat any of the sushi for lunch and you haven’t touched the brioche we drive to get in days. You seem more tired recently and said you’ve been feeling sick in the morning a lot and that you��ve been having a nap almost every day after lunch.’ 

His eyes flick to yours and you’re not sure which of you looks more fearful as the realisation seeps into your spine. 

‘Shuji…’ you breathe, whisper against the lump in your throat. ‘What are you saying exactly?’

‘I don’t want to freak you out.’ He takes your hand in his, sin and punishment now folding over your much smaller fingers as he brings it to his lips to kiss. Reverently, half closing his eyes in adoration as his breath tickles your skin. ‘So I think, maybe you should do a test, just so we can be sure.’’

Your eyes widen, and he bends forward on instinct, just to hold you, just to press his lips to your forehead as your lips crumple, a hand around the back of your head to keep you close as it dawns on you, the gravity of it, the implication.

‘Shuji I- I- Oh God-’ You put a wet hand around his back, your lips to his shirt as the water dribbles down the fabric and shaking despite yourself, with all the fear and wonderment now thrumming in your veins.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay, easy Doll, relax for me,’ he soothes, rubbing a big and reassuring hand over your back, up and down as your breathing evens out. ‘It might be nothing at all, and if it is, we’ll figure it out, won’t we?’

You nod, fervently and he pulls back to look into your eyes, tilt your chin up and press his lips to yours, softly, hesitantly, humming against your mouth as you chase him, tongue shyly peeking out to caress his before he turns to grab your towel from the door and you reach out a hand to wrap a hand around the end of his shirt on instinct like it's anchoring you. 

He lifts you from the bath, your wet feet dripping onto the tiles and the carpet as he makes a beeline for the bed and sits you on the edge, rummaging through the clean laundry for your favourite shirt - the star wars one with the faded print- and your pajama pants- the fluffy ones that are cuffed at the hem. 

‘Are we going now? To the pharmacy?’ you say, hidden behind a yawn, your eyes now drooping and half lidded as he tosses the remainder of the dirty laundry in the basket.

‘Hm? I’m going to go now, and you’re going to rest right here.’

You frown, a shake of your head sticking your wet hair to your neck. ‘I’m going with you.’

He laughs, uncertainly, hesitantly, this new and exciting thing pumping adrenaline into his veins as he grabs his keys and wallet and shrugs his jacket back on. The same dinner jacket from earlier with a wine stain on the sleeve that you’d made as you laughed at a joke of his, elbow slipping and sending his wine glass tumbling and then dabbed with a tissue with an apology and he’d kissed you and tasted the pasta sauce on your lips.

‘You’re absolutely not Sweetheart, you’re staying here,’ he says now. ‘You’re tired, and you’ve just got out of the bath, I’ll be quick.’

‘No, I want to come. I’ll put clothes on, don't worry.’ Then, as an afterthought, shrugging a hoodie on and trainers with extra fluffy socks, a beanie pulled over your wet hair and tucked over your ears and he thinks you’re so cute just like this, reaching out to hold his sleeve, a tired but entirely affectionate look in your sleepy eyes and all of it just for him. ‘Please?’

He hasn’t the heart to deny you - when he knows you’re worried- not equally but more than he is, and your hands are shaking under your sleeves, licking your lips and fingering the cord of the hoodie in the way he knows you do when you’re anxious and trying not to show it. 

So he acquiesces with a nod and you grab onto his hand as you leave the apartment, close to his body, your arm brushing his and your fingers laced together, huddling close and against him just to feel his warmth, the sunlight that slips from his skin as effortlessly as breathing that you love to bask in just because it’s him. 

You don’t say much on the drive to the pharmacy, and you’re aware of how strange and new this is to the both of you- a middle of the night drive for a pregnancy test that you’re both afraid of despite your love for him, and his very obvious love for you. And it’s not that he won’t or wouldn’t be a great father. You know he would be. 

You wonder often if he knows he would be. Therein lies the core of it all. Because he apologises often, at least to himself, for what he thinks is the incompetence of himself as yours and he wishes you held it to him more often. Less forgiving perhaps, more needy than you pretend you are, more like you want to punish him for something and less like you love him despite his faults. He never tells you of course. To you, he’s your everything, your angel whose hands shaped you, fashioned you into who you are. Your hero who taught you what love was- the sun in all it’s glory. He could lead you to the end of the world and you’d thank him for taking you with him, would hold his hand and watch the world burn still clinging to his side. 

Often, he dreams of exactly that. He dreams that he has led you to the end of the world, his and yours. Hands on your neck and squeezing and you begging him - not to let go- but to love him - to keep him - to let himself be loved by you and he squeezes harder just to make you stop, just to run away and bring the end faster because is there nothing more fitting for a reaper than to kill what he loves the most? And really, he is convinced he will be the death of you one day. Some day, maybe one like today where he’ll find you with a wound he created, a quick and sharp end to your story and to your love for him- a thread cut and snipped. Although sometimes, he dreams of you dealing the killing blow to him too. Standing over his body with a knife in your hand, shaking and holding it to your chest, before kneeling at his side to put your hands over the wound, just to watch the blood spill around your fingers and telling you while you cry, while you say you're sorry, that he loves you, that you're his big girl, his princess and he forgives you still, even if you're ready to lay down and die next to him, nestled into his side where you belong.

If he thinks about it too hard, he gets a little light headed, a little sick with it. At the thought that maybe you’re bringing something into the world that could only be taken again, another thing just like you he’s bound to bring an end to at some point just because he’s Hanma Shuji, and that means something to all the right and wrong people.

‘Shuji?’ you say, a tentative hand on his forearm as he stares, mindlessly, at the neon green lights of the pharmacy that looks equally frightening and imposing to him.

He snaps to attention, resists the urge to rub his eyes as he reaches for a cigarette in the silver tin you’d gifted him, etched with his initials and nicked and scratched, a testament to you and him and all the love you share. ‘Yeah?’

‘You okay? You’re spacing out a bit.’ You sound soft, sweet, bright and beautiful eyes looking up at him from beneath your lashes, your beanie pulled over your forehead to keep the chill out and he loves you infinitely. Even as he shakes, even as he takes a drag of the cigarette to calm his nerves, to ease the fear quaking under his skin and you are just there, so close and within reach and he lets you stroke his arm and then his cheek, leaning into your palm with a tentative kiss, his lips finding your skin just as the nicotine floods his veins. 

‘Mhm, sorry Pretty Girl, just tired,’ he says and closes his eyes, just briefly, momentarily letting himself sink against your palm as you stroke the apple of his cheek, his fine and sharp cheekbones that your fingers now skim lightly.

‘I’m scared, you know.’ 

His eyes flutter open, lashes dancing on his cheek, a drag of his cigarette that he then puts out. ‘I know Sweetheart, I know. Everything will be fine, I promise.’ He leans forward, presses his lips to your forehead, a hand around the back of your head as your lips tremble, and he knows you’re holding it together, that it’s all so unexpected and new and terrifying and you’re being brave for him, cutting back the tears, even if he wishes you let yourself break and be sensitive and fragile with him. But you’re like that often, so willing to put on a brave face, so forthcoming in nursing his wounds with your soft and expertly gentle hands that he can only wait, can only hold you as you crumple when you’re ready to. 

He knows with certainty that he’s afraid too, that he’s hiding his shaking hands around you, that the tremble in his voice, the lump in his throat that threatens unshed tears will be put at bay for you. Just to take care, just to be the man you need him to be, just to be your Shuji that you love and admire and lean on even if you’ll never admit it.

He knows you do. Need him that is. He needs you too. He knows that you know that as well and he doesn’t mind that it’s unspoken, that you prefer to rest your head against his chest than talk about it, the two of you against everything else.

‘You ready?’ he asks, and you nod, resolute, pulling your hoodie close around you as he comes around to open the car door.

You find the pharmacy just as foreboding, green and white lights that wink and glower at you as you step through the doors. The two of you avoid the aisle at first, grabbing at anything else until you take his hand, gently, and muster the courage to throw 3 clearblue tests in the basket, now laden with other miscellaneous items. A protein bar, a chapstick, some vaseline, painkillers, anything to make it less scary for you.

‘You sure this is the only one we need?’ you say, huddled next to the other pregnancy tests and condoms, looking up at him from beneath the grey hood.

‘I think so, but we’ll take a few, just to be sure.’ He takes the basket to the cash register and the service worker wordlessly scans it all through, the two of you with your hands clasped together and you nestled into his side conspiratorially. 

You sit in the car for a moment before you make the drive home. Both of you with the bag between you and resting on the console, hands still joined firmly together as you stare at it, as if it could come alive. 

You glance at him in your periphery, at the mix of wonder and fear, excitement and anguish, joy and anxiety that he directs at the bag between you before he shakes his head and turns the key in the ignition. 

You make a beeline for the bathroom when you arrive, your hoodie shrugged off and trainers foregone as you empty the bag on the counter, three pregnancy kits then taken to the bathroom as Shuji trails after you. 

You place them on the sink, one box after the other in an orderly row as you wait for him to join you there, staring at him in earnest, in need when he arrives with his shirtsleeves rolled to the elbow and his jacket on the back of the door.

You wait for him to advise you, to anchor you somehow, give you the permission you need to take the plunge and he does, silently, taking the test kit from the outer packaging. 

You read the leaflet together, you leaning against his side as he reads over your shoulder. 

'It says you can pee directly on the stick but, it seems a little uncomfortable like that,' he mumbles, an arm edging around your side to keep you anchored against him. 

'I…I think I have a urine sample bottle, from the last time I went to the doctor. It's in the third drawer on the nightstand.' 

'I'll get it,' he says and wordlessly puts the kit down on the porcelain sink as he leaves the bathroom. You hear him rummaging around in the bedroom as you pick up the white stick, the blank result window taunting you with it's grey screen. 

He returns and hands you the urine sample bottle and you quake with fear, crumpling against his side again as he strokes your hair, soothes you with his lips to your skin. 

'You can do this, I know you can sweetheart.' He runs a firm hand along your back, rests his cheek on your hairline. 

'Oh god Shuji I'm so scared, I'm so so scared. I want this, I really do, but this is so new, so scary, so unexpected for us,' you whisper against his shirt, clutching onto it from the back between your fists, holding on tight to him like you're afraid of letting go. And you are, you always are.

'I know, I know Princess. But we need to know ok? And listen to me.' He pulls back momentarily, lifts your chin till your eyes meet his, a soft and adoring glaze shining on the surface of them, and you scared and afraid and small and so loved by him in the reflection, your arms still around his middle. 'No matter what it says, you're my girl, understand? That's not changing, ever.'

Your lips wobble of their own accord. 'You promise?'

He nods, resolute, a bravery he's putting on for you to be the man you need him to be. 'I promise. Come on now Sweetheart, let's do this yeah?'

And you feel braver just because he believes you are, because he believes in you at all. 

'Okay, let's do this then.' 

'Do you want me to….?' He gestures at the bathroom door with a pointed thumb. 'While you pee?' And it feels awkward and unlike him to ask, when you know there are no boundaries like that- but it's only that he's nervous and jittery and as afraid as you are. 

And it somehow gets a laugh out of you, one that's tinged with fear and anxiety but a laugh all the same. 'Shuji, we've done some very weird things together but you're afraid of watching me pee?' 

And he Scoffs with mock indignation as you squat on the toilet to pee into the bottle. 'Hey, I'm trying to be nice!' and it somehow makes you lighter, that he's trying to humour you when you're scared enough to shake and can't get your urine in the bottle properly, can't relax enough to do it right and he doesn't say anything, doesn't make a comment at any of it but instead picks up the test kit to inspect until you pull your panties and sweatpants back up. 

The bottle is only half full. 

'At least your pee is healthy,' he says with mirth. 

'Okay Doctor Hanma, now you're just messing around.' You roll your eyes and nudge him playfully, and he laughs, a singular moment You're grateful for before you turn your attention back to the test kit. 

You flick open the lid on the urine sample with a long look at him before you uncap the pregnancy test kit, sticking the pink strip in and holding it there. 

'Five seconds right?' He slides his hands around your stomach, resting his head on your yours, and you hold his eyes, all the love reflected in them as you hold the stick in the urine sample. 

'Y-Yeah, and then five more.' And you don't look, don't see the screen changing, and neither does he. But for the moment there is only the two of you in the world, in this bathroom where he still has his dinner suit on and you're beautiful and loved and terrifying and he wishes he could ease your fear more, like he could take it away all together.

You take the white kit from the urine sample, shaking and shivering, your hand clattering lightly against the porcelain sink and he cups your cheeks, two big hands so tender against your skin. 

'You wanna have a look?' 

'I'm scared Shuji.'

'I know Sweetheart, I know, but I've got you, you know this.'

'Okay….' You take a breath, deep and full. 'I'm going to look now,' you say, resolute, a bravery you don't feel but want him to believe you do. 

Because you're his girl, and he's your angel, your hero who taught you what love was, who made you understand because he took the plunge of loving you despite many pitfalls. 

'Good girl, let's do this Princess,' he says, a final kiss to your lips, to your forehead too, soft and reassuring and mumbling praise against your skin.

So you do. You turn, and hold the stick close for you both to see.

You look at the screen, a cross now firm across the grey screen, dark blue and clear and unblinking.

You drop it instinctively, a clatter against the skin and your hand flies to your mouth.

'Oh god-' 

'Princess-'

'Shuji I- we-' 

'I know, I know-' 

'Oh- oh Shuji, baby-' 

You turn, breath coming fast and quick and the room spinning above and below you, the floor coming up to meet you, the ceiling coming down to crush you underneath. Everything is bright, hot, intense and happening too fast and the pregnancy test is white and obvious and impending in the sink, blue lines winking at you. 

He lets out a breath, hands shaking, one running through his hair and then joining the other around you, holding you close, tight and snug and firm and you crumple, the overwhelming surge of it all thumping in your veins as you shake and close his shirt between your fists. 

'Easy, easy Pretty Girl, breathe.' He whispers against your hair, as you chant and press his name into his skin, your cheek against his heart and listening all the while to the furious beat of it on his ribs. 

You choke it out, fullness and joy and love and fear curling into one. 'Oh God, Shuji I- we're- I'm having a baby- we're- we're having a baby?' 

Like a question, like you're expecting him to tell you what you know because you trust him and need to hear it from him. And his voice strains, a fine crackle down the middle of it like static, unshed tears inlaying and coating the edge of his words. 

'Y-Yeah, we're having a baby Sweetheart- we are.' And it's hushed, thick with emotion and his eyes are wild and intense and full of feeling. 

'We are, we're- oh my God I can't believe this is happening-' 

And then, suddenly, like a lightning bolt. 'How did you know? You knew- you knew somehow that's why you asked me when my period was.' Your voice laced with awe, with adoration, love leaking and slipping between your fingers when you take his face between your hands. 

He laughs, hesitant, hands dropping to your hips to smooth circles into the patch between your shirt and sweatpants. 'I know you, Pretty girl.' And he says it matter-of-factly, like the simplest thing and irrefutable. Then, more seriously, despite the strain, despite his own wishes and not for any other reason other than the fact that yours come first. 'Are we…I mean, are you okay with this?'

He loves you too much sometimes, more than you know, more than you feel you deserve too. When he looks down at you like now, honeyed gaze soaking you up, tender and soft and weak entirely, he knows you could break him. Snap him in half. That he'd let you anyway, turn the knife in time and twist it, would hold your hands over the hilt just to feel the touch of your skin on his.

You love him too, more than you can say, more than you could ever tell him, more than he would ever understand too. As if he could reach into you, pluck your heart out and crush it between his inked hands, and you would forgive him just for loving you enough to touch it anyways.

You nod, tears slipping freely now, and lost in the off-white of your shirt. 'I want this. We want this right?' 

'We do. I do too,' he says, lips to your hairline with a soft hum. 

It slips out on instinct, heart full of love and adoration, stomach thrumming with the intensity of it. 

'I love you,' you say, half a sob, half a prayer, and entirely true. 

'I know Sweetheart, I know.' Because he does and he feels it and he is redeemed by the constancy of you, by love that he thinks he could never earn, could never be good enough for. 

You love him, and it is your greatest sin, the only thing you ever need to atone for to the world, to love someone who is so bad to it, who could never give you the kind of stability you deserve. Or so he thinks.

'We….' you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, moving for a moment to look up at the shining reflection of you in the swirls of gold. 'We'll have to paint the spare room, and think of baby names maybe.' 

He chuckles, sways side to side, rests your head on his chest. 'Yeah, we will. I've got some ideas already.'

'You have?' 

'Mhmmm, I bet you have too. However, I have to say one thing. If you're having twins you know what that means right?' 

You frown, curious, cocking your head to the side and he grins, the promise of some mischief playing on his lips. 

'It means I got a magic dick.' 

Your jaw falls. 'Shuji?!' You say, incredulous and aghast, but fighting the smile all the same, a laugh bubbling in your chest and he feels warm, feels good and your smile is a reward after everything.

You are the reward after everything. 

a/n : haha hiiii...... I have nothing to say aside from happy anniversary to me and the love of my life, my angel and hero who taught me love, who is the sun in my sky, my beloved heart and soul, i love and adore you endlessly, I hope u see this. (sorry its a few days late i was unwell lmao)

taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies @prettyiolanthe @sugusshi @snakegentleman @haitaniapologist @lonnie19 @bejeweled-night-33 @ranscutedoll @qiiuusoup-xo @hoetani @sinfulseashell @burnishedcrown @nikokopuffs @mitsuwuyaa @haruwuchiyoo @mochimiyaas @theaonlax @blackfire2013 @wotakuhime @severellamahottub @stargirl-stabber @intheafterall @ljubimaya

[dailypokemoncrochet]

i think you might have hacked something with the tumblr userbase. apparently people will engage with creative posts more if there are polls involved. fascinating. i'm so curious if more people will incorporate this now or if they'll just be depressed about it 💀

I really do think the polls on my art posts were such a genius move on my part!! People definitely will engage more because there's a whole new avenue for them to engage on, and it's one that a lot of people like: click button!

I don't have exact stats about it at the moment, but anecdotally there's like 300ish people that will regularly vote on those polls that I assume are just direct followers. Depending on how many/who reblogs that particular post, the voter count can balloon up really high (Miraidon, blazed to 100k+ people, 12k votes). I'm not sure how the polls affect that other normal tumblr aspects such as likes/reblogs/replies, but I also want to say anecdotally that it's about 3-3.5x as many votes as there are combined notes. So if there's 600 votes, there's around 170-200 notes. Also I think I should note that that's personally a LOT of notes for me already, but I do have 8000 followers as like, a base. Don't know how many of them are active/saw the post/actually like my blog, but there's at least a core 300 of y'all that are really here for my art.

Possible reasons for why people especially like to vote in polls: click button, built in comments you don't have to think about but are guaranteed to be well received, anonymous as in actually untraceable (no list of who voted like there is with the likes), quick response, sense of community in that this many people also had the same thought/choice as you, easy way to keep track of if you'd seen the post before, a little gimmicky and novel, 'eh why not' attitude even has an option being just the name of the pokemon lol

Like I said though, I don't know how the polls affect the other note counts. I want to say that some people are more likely to reblog because of them, but there could certainly be people that would otherwise reblog but don't because of the poll. I don't think there's that much of an overlap of people who reblog and people who would not reblog polls, though. And because this is tumblr and my financial livelihood is not tied to engagement on my art posts, I am pretty happy with people just voting on the polls; that's feedback for me, knowledge that an individual real person saw the post. I think it would be interesting to be able to analyze how they affect the other notes, but I'm not equipped to do that and I'm not particularly pressed about it.

I think it'd be neat if other people did it too for funsies! Idk how much they'll like it if they're more concerned about the engagement = clicks = money perspective, because I think tumblr is not quite built around that idea. It happens, sure, but in a kind of invisible way that's not so readily measurable based solely on notes. I've seen one other person do it for their art post and that was fun!! :D It does take a little bit more energy on my/OP's part because of the whole coming up with options thing. I used to intentionally be more varied with mine, but now I mostly just pick what my favorite of my first 5ish impressions/thoughts are about my art. Which is super nice when it turns out to be the same thought path as many others haha

[arviyya]

"internalised sexism" you know damnnnn well thats not what they meant bae lets not be ignorant

Damn, do people use the term bae still?

I'm so out of touch.

Also, how about we just leave worm and worms art alone? 🥹 thanks, bae

also I feel the need fo say, it issss internalized sexism to assume that men who are petite or feminine aren't valid as men. Thanks for coming to my tiktok.

[ivyloveheart]

Yeah idk I guess I’m just gonna go back to just reblogging things idk. Not really too in the UTMV fandom anymore and I still can’t get many interactions.

[funnydishserver42]

IT GOT UNBANNED?? CRAZY...

I can’t even begin to explain how annoying and dystopian this propaganda is

[beloveds-embrace]

(thinking of dragon john price wanting your chubby self as an addition to his hoard 😩)

The first time John Price walks into your café, it’s because he needs something strong to shake the weariness from his old bones. The bell above the door chimes, and the warmth of roasted beans and sugar wraps around him like a comfort he didn’t know he needed.

And then he sees you.

You’re behind the counter, moving with easy confidence, soft hands making quick work of a steaming pitcher of milk. There’s a warmth in your smile when you greet him, eyes bright, cheeks plush and inviting. Something in his chest tightens- something ancient, something hungry.

He doesn’t speak at first, just rumbles out his order in that low, gravelly timbre of his, but he watches you. The way your hands move, steady and capable. The way your curves shift as you reach for a cup, the fabric of your uniform stretching over the swell of your stomach, your hips. You’re soft. Lush. And suddenly, John forgets what it was he came in for beyond you.

The coffee you place in front of him is perfect. He barely tastes it.

After that, he starts coming in more often.

At first, it’s under the excuse of needing a pick-me-up before work, but then it becomes something else entirely. A routine. A habit. A hoarding. He brings trinkets sometimes- small things, barely noticeable at first. A shiny coin from some distant country, left on the counter as a tip. A sleek, carved wooden bracelet he insists on you wearing. A packet of specialty tea, even though this is a coffee shop, because he thought you might like it. And you do, the smile you give him always so pretty, so soft, like most humans are, except none of them is you.

It’s instinct, this need to gift, to gather, to keep.

And when other men linger too long at the counter, when they smile at you just a little too wide, John bristles. His shoulders square, big wings soreading ever so slightly, the scales along his tail sharpening. He makes himself big, more than he already is, and lets his presence fill the space until they think better of their flirting and take their coffee to go.

He doesn’t like them looking at what’s his.

Not yet, not officially- but he’s working on that.

Because you don’t know it yet, his sweet barista, but John has already made up his mind. You belong with him, with them. In his hoard, where he can keep you warm and safe, where he and his men can adore you properly.

You just haven’t figured it out yet.

(Reblogs for more)

[lovegasmic]

HOT MILF NEXT DOOR

──── Kento, Toji, Sukuna x f!reader.

cw. age gap ( all characters are 25-29 and reader around 44-46 ) , creampie , breeding kink , trophy wife cheating on your husband with a younger plumber Toji ( Megumi doesn't exist ), oral, rough sex with Sukuna ( you babysit Yuuji ) uncle Sukuna.

original full post in the title, I had to re post this bit because I deleted the original reblog by accident. this is mostly just to back up

hot dilf next door out now 𖥔 satoru, suguru, choso version 𖥔 genshin version

KENTO !

the faint mark of a ring around your finger, the soft thud of boxes being left on the sidewalk, all leading to the moment your youngest child finally moves to college, sharing teary goodbyes and hugs as you wave them one last time. so, you’re finally alone...

Kento is not a creep, nor does he intend to sneak his way into your heart the moment you’re finally alone, no, he wants to offer nothing but support.

he walks to your home with easy steps, casual and unconsciously wearing his best suit, not that he wants to impress you, it’s just a coincidence.

“you’re so mature for your age” is what you say, and everyone does, to be honest, but somehow coming from you is not that bad anymore, does that mean you could actually give him a chance?

a tray of freshly baked cookies is placed upon your kitchen counter, a gift from Kento that’s now long forgotten, too busy listening to your complaints with no ill intentions behind them, just sharing how though life has gotten, but don’t worry, Kento has promised to stick with you.

you’re such a pretty woman to cry, each one of your tears tugging at his heartstrings, and his rough and large hands are the perfect comfort for your aching heart.

none of you actually notice when the atmosphere changes, when your soft sighing against his neck turned into whimpers of pleasure by having two of the man’s fingers knuckle deep in your cunt, rapidly dragging the tips across your fluttering inner walls and palm eagerly rubbing your swollen, needy clit.

“that’s it, gorgeous, you’re doing so well” all you need is some relief, of your burdens and sexual tension building up from so long, Kento is more than happy to help, gently scissoring his fingers into your pussy, a bit more stretch so you can accommodate his cock next. you look much better when you’re crying in pleasure, pawing on his shoulders while guiding the thick head of his cock to push past the slight resistance of your pussy, every little vein throbbing and massaging the ache inside.

gushing pussy, welcoming every inch into the depths of your body, almost immediately starting to suck on the girth, squishing your soft breasts against the toned and smooth expanse of Kento’s chest, each muscle rubbing on your nipples so addictively sweet your pussy pulses even more.

the blonde has often mentally slapped himself for lewdly thinking how you’d look fucked, although the image in his head could not compare to the real thing, forcing his load to blow as deep as possible into your sweet pussy, hands on your soft hips, grinding you down until you squeak and cum, creating a bigger white-ish mess on your laps with the diluted semen seeping out of you.

instead of sulking in your sadness, you should ride his cock more often.

TOJI !

working several jobs at once was never an easy chore, but the black haired managed, one had to do whatever it took for some money. and the fancy apartment building you lived was something he could only dream about, compared to his shabby room where he just slept and jerked off to the thought of you.

“where is the leak?” his rough voice echoes, contrasting with the way too fancy and perfect state of your penthouse, fixing his thick denim pants with a tool belt attached, attempting to hide the bulging erection at the sight of you on that flimsy robe you loved to wear.

you’re so soft, with gorgeous curves as you guide him into the kitchen, are you swinging your hips just for him, or is it his lust clouded imagination?

“would you like something to drink?” you offer so sweetly, already grabbing a glass while Toji slides under the kitchen sink, checking the... perfectly maintained pipelines.

with a raised brow, he stays there, pretending to fix a non existent leak, “a lemonade would be good, thank you, doll” he tries, hoping that little nickname will bring him good luck later. the way his thighs spread when he hears you around is definitely made on purpose, can you see how hard he is for you?

once the... job was done, Toji sips on his cooling drink, eyes scanning the adjacent living room where a framed picture of you and your husband hangs, he’s too old, and you’re clearly a trophy wife.

“how much do I owe you?” you bat your eyelashes, and the flutter mimics the pulsing of his cock.

“don’t worry about it, doll, is not a big deal” Toji attempts to play his cards, hitting on your heart first with a closer step, checking your reactions.

“oh, please, Toji...” it’s a low purr and you’re doing it on purpose, “at least let me thank you for your help”

what a little minx, with soft manicured hands on his broad chest, eyes cute and filled with lust while staring up at him, a pretty thing like you needs to get fucked, and it seemed like you needed it bad.

the framed family picture smiles down at your bent over form, robe flipped open, panties pooling around one of your ankles and Toji’s thick cock plunging into your soaked hole, earning a very slight spank on a jiggling ass cheek, “take it, doll, fuckin’ take this cock in your gorgeous pussy”

a mewl seeps past your lips like the string of drool pooling on the kitchen island, pussy fluttering around the girth, desperate to pull deeper, to suck as much as your hole could possibly take.

it doesn’t take long for you to cream his cock, having it abusing the deepest part with perfectly angled hips was quite easy to send you over the edge, your toys were good, but fuck, Toji knows what he’s doing.

a thumb hooks on the side of your cheek, pulling your soft folds open to stare down at the flutter, at the way you’re spread and speared on his cock, at his mercy. “that’s it, doll, take my cum” he grunts, balls pulsing and squished against your clit while his thick semen fills your womb.

“that um, pipe might break soon, call me again” he winks, now fully dressed and with a fat wad of bills you tucked in his shirt pocket.

SUKUNA !

“do I have to do it?” Sukuna groans in annoyance, gripping the phone where his brother spoke through.

“i don’t have anyone else to pick Yuuji, just do it once”

with another groan he agrees, hanging up the call while shrugging the girl clinging on his arm, the frat party is as annoying as ever, his life as boring as ever.

hands shoved in his pockets he waits for you to open the door, impatiently tapping on the floor as if he had something better to do than take care of his little nephew until Jin came out of work. he’s damn tired, almost about to knock again until you open, angelically smiling at him with a little Yuuji perched on your hip.

“hello, you must be Sukuna”

he wants to knock you up.

in a blink, that cocky smirk is again in place, “that’s me, i’ll take the brat now” then he’s pulling Yuuji onto his side much against the small boy grumbling.

what a good brother and uncle is Sukuna, offering to pick up Yuuji from now on, what a kind soul, making you open up to him more and more until he’s comfortably sitting on your couch, baby Yuuji sleeping upstairs and a warm, flirty laugh echoes through the living room. Sukuna knows you’re aware of his advances, and who you are to refuse a cute, ripped and younger boy’s attention.

and that dick was to die for.

“fuck, sweetheart, you’re a pro” he grins, licking across his teeth while you slobber all over his cock, tongue and lips caressing the fat girth, saliva dripping to coat his full and heavy balls slapping against your chin, “made for take my cock down your tight throat, fuck!”

you can feel your juices dripping down your thighs, pooling on the wooden floor, while you feast on Sukuna’s thick musky scent, adding to the soft pulse and slight salty taste of the tip hitting the back of your throat.

thank fuck he does not keep you waiting, “come here, get on your knees, I need to cum in your cunt”

who are you to refuse such a sensual order? shakily climbing on the leather couch that squeaks under your knees, fingers twisting around the armrest while Sukuna pushes into, “is that how you fuck your classmates?” oh, baby, you’re screwed.

Sukuna takes that as a challenge, arching your back, spreading your asscheeks and pounding into your hole, adoring the slapping sound of his balls slapping your wet flesh, soaking in your warmth, “i’ll show you how I fuck a gorgeous woman like you” and he does, trying to prove you how he’s more than a cocky, pretty face, having you squeaking his name, begging to be creampied until next week.

his eyes are hooded, strangely overwhelmed by your pussy, by the easy glide that welcomes more and more into your depths, begging, craving, crying for his cock, to be pounded into oblivion. “i need to keep you full of me, smelling like me” each word is accentuated by a thrust, ignoring the way his balls clench in a signal that he is about to cum.

“ah, u-ungh... Sukuna, ah, you feel so good, love” why does the tenderness in your voice make his tip twitch and splurt another wave of pre?

“yeah, sweetheart? you like it? you love how I pound your creamy pussy?” almost breathless, panting in attempts to hold back a strong orgasm, needing to drive you insane first, to have you gushing, squirting all over his thick cock before he finally, finally gets to claim that sweet release inside your willing, still very much fertile body.

[tbaluver]

picture you

pairing: zayne x fem! reader wc: 806 cw: zayne masturbates at the thought of you, many thoughts of you a/n: this was inspo from chappell roan's song picture you and the new zayne card that comes out in 5 hours for me (╥﹏╥) and also i read somewhere on twitter that ears can be found as erogenous so thats how this fic came to life! also i think abt this card so often its getting unhealthy but anyways i hope you all enjoy reading! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

shameless. how could he be so absolutely shameless.

zayne the man who always had everything under control. zayne who rarely ever touched himself. the man who never had time for such a release.

he laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling, his room was dim and quiet. his hair tousled from repeatedly running his fingers through it. he’s tried to distract himself, key word try. but nothing worked. you were everywhere. the thoughts of you plagued his mind and body.

you already left a couple minutes ago but the thought of you lingered in his mind. the way you teasingly tugged at his ear, your fingers gently massaging behind it, leaving him flustered on the spot.

was it that easy? a single touch to feel a rush coursing lower in him. luckily he managed to dodge your next attempt but just that touch alone replays in his mind.

the dull ache crept between his thighs as he tried his hardest to let the feeling pass before it spread across his body. he struggled to fight the urge to move his hand down to feel himself. but it wouldn’t hurt even if it was just through his clothes or even squirm a little. it would go away eventually, right?

he tried fighting back these images of you but the more he fights it, the thoughts of you replay again and again and further deeper into this spiral of dirty fantasies in his mind. he wondered if he kept you awake and made you press your pretty thighs together to ignore this shameless feeling. Zayne couldn’t help but let out a soft groan at the thought of you touching yourself.

he clenches his eyes shut, his control slowly slipping away. he felt himself grow harder on how good it must feel to have your hands tease him instead of his own. how erect your nipples must be before he latches his hands and mouth onto them.

he felt himself grow harder, his underwear constricting him painfully as his mind continues to think of you softly moaning in his ears as he trails kisses down your neck while he pumps his fingers into you.

one time. this will only be one time.

he defeatedly slips down his pants, his dick straining hard against his boxers. he tugs it down quickly, his cock already leaking and throbbing, crying to get a release.

he closes his eyes, a soft moan escaping his lips as his thumb drags over his leaking slit before he slowly stroked himself. he drags his fist up and down his shaft thinking of how good it must feel to be inside of you. how your walls would welcome him so perfectly. oh, how so beautiful you must look bouncing up and down on his cock while he keeps his hands placed on your hips.

the thought of your pussy clenching around him and how you would breathlessly moan his name made his hips buck, his pace coming faster, more satisfying. probably not as satisfying with him inside you.

his eyebrows furrow, he’s close. his hand focuses on his swollen tip as he pumps faster and faster. he imagines how your walls would spasm around him, him filling you up til the point it was dripping down your thigh.

low grunts escape his mouth as his fist squeezes his cock tighter, his biceps flexing as he increases his pace. how he wished to hear your sweet sounds and how they would be music to his ears, knowing it was making you feel good.

he was so close that filthy sounds were escaping his mouth. “f-fuck-,” he groans through his tensed jaw, words he never thought would leave his lips so easily.

he thought of the way your walls fluttered around him and how your eyes would rock back into your head as you came on his cock for who knows what round it was in his head. how he would hold you so gently while planting lovingly kisses all over you and tell you how you did so well.

hot cum spurts out of his cock, running down his hand as he continues to stroke himself through his orgasm. his pace would eventually slow down, his hand and cock painted white. he breathed in deeply realizing the mess he made, all because of you.

he sighs, momentarily staying in his bed. his mind still hazy from all the flurry of scenarios that flashed through his thoughts as he touched himself. just as he was about to sit up and tidy up the mess he made, his phone lit up. he peeks over and sees the familiar contact photo on the notification, the girl who was on his mind.

(y/n)❅: zayne i think i left a couple music sheets there. im on my way back i hope that's alright ˙ᵕ˙

[qingyuns]

— i won’t let you fall down, unless you’re in my arms

alternatively, the 3 times kinich saved you from falling and the 1 time that he was the one who fell

pairing: kinich x gn!reader, wc: 2.8k, two or three swear words, reader has a pyro vision because mualani kinich reader burgeon team is a funny hc i have, ajaw makes 2 brief appearances, fluffy but ig they don’t do that much?? pre-relationship and confessions (does this count as a confession), title from an nct dream song (rains in heaven), pls reblog ty

1) The fall that was Pacha’s fault

You were never one to back down from a challenge, not when your pride was on the line. And presently, it was. It was an unfortunate mistake on your part when you’d been a little too cocky, bragging about your rock climbing skills, and as an even more unfortunate result, a friend of yours from the Scions of the Canopy had decided to dare you to climb an actual cliff near his village.

“I’ve got all the equipment,” Pacha had exclaimed. “If you’re really that good, then this should be no sweat.”

You’d narrowed your eyes at him. You couldn’t tell if his smile was mocking or not.

“No problem.”

But now, as you looked up and tried to find another edge to grasp at, you were wishing you had backed down. Seriously, this cliff was just a flat canvas of orange. What were you supposed to hold onto?

“Stupid Pacha,” you hissed to yourself as you reached for a bump in the cliff face. “Stupid cliff.”

Man, you wished you had a Geo vision. Then you could probably create some kind of ledge to rest on. Or maybe an Anemo one would be more useful. You could make yourself float to the top.

You were also never one to be afraid of heights, but as you glanced down, your heart jolted at the distance between you and the ground. Too high. Much, much too high. Your Pyro vision hung uselessly at your hip.

A second glance told you that Pacha was no longer anywhere to be found, and you cursed him under your breath.

“Okay, don’t panic. Just don’t panic and don’t fall,” you huffed. “Easy enough.”

Your palms were moist, your fingers were suddenly too smooth. And just when you risked a second to wipe your hand dry on your leg….

….the other one slipped, and you were falling.

The organ in your chest seemed to stop. This is it, you thought, I’m dead. You were falling, and falling and falling, until suddenly, while your eyes were squeezed shut and your stomach was leaping like a wild Koholasaurus in water, you were flying.

It took you a second for your brain to orient itself, to realise that you weren’t in fact dead yet, but when it did, you felt an arm wrapped securely around your waist, so tight that it was almost painful. You peeled your eyelids open. In your limited view, your saviour was nothing more than a head of dark hair and a blur of green attire. The surrounding cliffs were reduced to blobs of colour as you were swung through the air, down then up, down then up, until your feet were once again on solid ground.

Your knees almost collapsed once you were, and both of your saviour’s arms moved to steady you. A blink. Two blinks. You waited for your breathing to return to normal, then your eyes flitted up to meet theirs.

A kaleidoscope of green and gold greeted you. Huh, pretty.

Your saviour let out a strangled sound, something between a choke and a grunt, and released you. Oh. Had you said that out loud?

“Uh, sorry,” you coughed awkwardly. You took a step back, fiddling with your fingers. “Thanks for saving me.”

With the bandana that was tied over his forehead, it was difficult to discern his emotions. He gave you a curt nod. “You should be more careful.”

A distant yell made both of your hands turn, and you saw the tiny figure of Pacha rapidly approaching and waving his hand at you. By the time he’d closed the distance, which to his credit only took about eight seconds (so he must have felt at least a little guilty about almost letting you die), the guy beside you had vanished.

“Are you okay?” Pacha exclaimed as he skidded to a stop in front of you. You nodded, and he let out a sigh of relief, before looking around curiously. “Was that Kinich?”

2) The fall that was a Tepetlisaurus’ fault

The next time you met Kinich (‘Malipo’ Kinich, a Saurian Hunter who according to Pacha, was transactional, blunt and borderline reclusive), you were on the cliffs by the Children of the Echoes, picking Saurian Claw Succulents as a favour for a new friend of yours, a sweet young girl by the name of Kachina.

And maybe you shouldn’t have been crouching so close to the edge of a cliff, but how you were supposed to know that a Tepetlisaurus burrowing in the earth would come straight for your footing and uproot you, effectively tossing you off the side? Really, it wasn’t your fault! It was just some kind of ninja saurian.

This was only the second time you’d ever fallen off the side of a cliff, but for some reason, you were hardly surprised when the same person came to your rescue this time.

He looked at you blankly as you clutched at the succulent in your hand, eyes darting around to avoid prolonged eye contact. You were sure he probably had an eyebrow raised under his bandana.

“Do you make it a habit to throw yourself off every cliff you come across?”

You flinched. “Well, no.”

His arms crossed over his chest, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes were drawn to the tattoos exposed on his biceps. The teal suited him, you thought absently.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a screeching voice. “Well, what’s your problem, then!”

A flashing myriad of yellow and green flitted into the air. The creature that had popped up from behind Kinich was … strange, to say the least. A strange, blocky thing. It looked strangely flat, like a hundred tiny, flat, square blocks. Were you going insane?

Kinich sent an annoyed glance towards the creature, before looking back at you to see that your mouth was now agape as you stared.

“Oh, right. You haven’t met Ajaw.”

“Oh,” you muttered, suddenly feeling fainter than you had when falling off the cliff, “so this is Ajaw.”

The blocky creature expanded around the middle (you supposed that was the equivalent of puffing out its chest). “Aha! So you’ve heard of the Almighty Dragonlord, K’uhul Ajaw, have you? Tell me, peasant, what have you been told? That I’m ferocious and powerful?”

Kinich sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. You blinked at the creature. You thought back to what Pacha had said – “Ajaw. He’s Kinich’s saurian companion. Really weird little guy. Super annoying.”

“Yeah,” you assented, “something like that.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Kinich sighed. It took you a second to realise that he wasn’t talking to you.

“Maybe you should shut up, Kinich!” Ajaw’s eyes angled themselves into a glare, and he fluttered around agitatedly.

The response he received was a flick of a gloved hand, which sent the Saurian soaring into the sky, until you couldn’t even see him anymore. You were pretty sure you’d never blinked as much in your life as you had in the last five minutes.

Kinich turned to you. “Sorry about him.”

“Um, that’s alright,” you said half-heartedly.

“So how come you’ve fallen off another cliff?”

Yikes. He must have thought you were either insanely insane or tremendously stupid.

“A Saurian knocked me off the side when I was picking succulents,” you muttered, cheeks flushing with heat.

He hummed. You weren’t quite sure what that meant. “And the other time?”

 “Um, my friend dared me to climb the cliff. So I did.” You winced. “But I swear, these are the only times I’ve ever fallen off a cliff.”

It was a sentence you never thought you’d have to say. How embarrassing. You waited for the inevitable scolding or mocking to fall upon your ears, but then—

“Alright,” Kinich nodded easily. “Maybe try to avoid cliffs from now on."

Then he turned around, and started walking away. The sudden departure made you recoil in shock. Was the conversation over? Pacha really wasn't exaggerating when he said Kinich was reclusive.

"Huh? Wait a second!" You weren't sure what came over you in that moment, but you had a startling feeling that you couldn't let him leave here.

He paused, and turned to look at you, head tilted slightly to the side.

"Um, hold on." You thought for a moment. How to make him stay for longer? "Are you free right now? I'd like to treat you to a meal, if possible. You know, to thank you."

Your hands clasped in front of you and you fiddled with your fingers.

Kinich blinked slowly for a moment and stared at you. For a horrible moment, you thought he was going to decline, in which case you would have had to turn tail and flee on the spot, but instead, he nodded.

"I have some time."

You brightened. "Great! I know this place that has the best tatacos!"

There was a light skip in your movements as you began to lead the way, trusting that he was following you. You could only hope he didn't eat too much. You weren't sure your pockets could afford it, and you'd hate to make an even bigger fool of yourself in front of him by being too broke to pay. What a horrible first impression...

“Oh, right!” you paused in your steps for a moment. “I forgot to introduce myself!”

And so you did, and you watched as something that almost looked like a smile twitched at Kinich’s lips. Then, as if testing the way it rolled on his tongue, he repeated your name carefully.

Something fluttered in your stomach as you beamed. Yeah, you sure liked the way that sounded.

3) The fall that was the fault of a slippery rock

“No, guys, trust me. I just discovered it. It’s like, really underground.”

Kinich sighed as Mualani giggled at her own joke. As if on impulse, you laughed along with her, but you even as the sound escaped you, you couldn’t tell if it came from a place of pity or not. Underground, because it was literally in an underground cave. Hilarious. Still, a small smile made its way onto your face. This was nice. As much as you loved your other friends, it sure felt great to hang out with people who didn’t always challenge you to risk your life (fuck you, Pacha), though you suspected Mualani was just waiting for a chance to take you Spirit Wave riding, and you weren’t sure you were quite ready for that yet.

Today, however, you were spared. Mualani had promised you and Kinich a relaxing afternoon in a new hot spring she’d found. And so you were following her into an opening in the rock face.

The air was immediately a little cooler than it was outside as you stepped into the darkness. The cave was still illuminated by the sunlight, and you could see more patches of light ahead. It glowed slightly in the reflections of the rock on the ground.

“It’s a little steep here,” your friend warned. “Watch your step.”

No sooner had you nodded to show your understanding than you had placed your foot down on a particularly slippery patch on the floor, and it slid.

A gasp tore out of you, but two arms were already wrapping around you from behind.

“Be careful,” his voice murmured in your ear. You almost gasped again. How glad you were that he was behind you and thus couldn’t see the way you froze up at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

From a little ways ahead of you, Mualani called out. “Hey, you alright?”

Your throat suddenly felt very dry. You cleared it before telling her that you were.

Kinich kept one hand on your waist for the next few steps before removing it after you had found your footing. You found yourself missing his touch upon the removal.

No matter, you assured yourself. Focus on not falling over again. The decline of the slope eased out into a flatter path, and soon the tunnel opened up into an expansive area. The underground spring was much brighter than you had anticipated, thanks to the perfectly round opening at the top. Smooth, round rocks seemed to line the edge, and the water sparkled in the ripples as Mualani crouched down to test it with her hand.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed.

You turned your attention to her. “What is it?”

“It’s cold! It was really toasty last time, though,” she frowned. “It must be because it’s further away. The underground water flow can get unstable and–“

As she rambled on, you crouched by the side of the spring, dipping your hand into the water. It lukewarm at best, but the pool wasn’t as big as most of the one’s above ground. You could work with this. Placing both hands in the not-so-hot spring, the vision at your side pulsed with energy. You let the heat flow through your body to your fingertips, as steam floated just above the surface of the water.

You failed to notice the pair of eyes that were fixed on you as you smiled to yourself.

“Hey, Mualani? Is this better?” Mualani’s eyes widened as she watched the mist rising out of the hot spring.

“Yes, yes, yes!” She squealed. She rushed to your side, squeezing you in a hug, before drawing back immediately. “Ow, hot!”

The girl quickly submerged her arms in the water, sighing in relief. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped.

You grinned at your friends, stepping into the water yourself. “Shall we swim?”

The pounding of your heart against your chest was hard to ignore when Kinich slid into the spring and settled right beside you.

???) The fall that wasn’t even you

Kinich wasn’t sure what was wrong with him lately. He’d been sleeping the same, his regimented diet was unchanged, but in recent weeks, he’d found himself feeling a lot more strange.

Hunting commissions had been slow lately, so he’d taken the liberty of accepting ordinary bounties and commissions from the Adventurers’ Guild. When you’d heard about it, you’d insisted on joining him. He hadn’t had a problem with that, but since he started taking on these new commissions, Kinich had noticed that something was happening to his health.

He’d been spending a lot of time with you these days, but that couldn’t be it. How could that explain his borderline feverish symptoms? The heat that flushed his head and neck sometimes, and the weird way that his heart flipped, like it did when he went bungee jumping that one time.

And sure, those symptoms only happened when he was with you, but that was just because he was almost always with you. How could fighting a few treasure hoarders in your presence make him ill?

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ajaw growled. “You like them!”

Kinich was too surprised to scoff. “What?”

“You have a big fat crush.”

“No, I don’t.”

The little green dots in Ajaw’s eyes rolled around so hard, Kinich thought they might fall out.

“Fine! Don’t believe me, then! Even though you blush whenever you’re with them, and you stare at them when they’re talking, and you didn’t even complain when they wanted to join your commissions and you’ve been losing half the profit!”

Ajaw’s body doubled in size before he vanished in agitation. Kinich raised a hand to his chin in thought. He needed a second opinion.

“You like them,” Mualani replied simply. “It’s pretty obvious.”

Kinich blanched. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because it is,” she grinned. “Dude, you’ve fallen hard.”

There was a twist in his stomach. The tips of his ears turned redder than a hot chili pepper.

“Come on, Kinich. You’re a smart guy. Think about the way they make you feel.”

Despite everything, despite the fact that he was, in fact, a smart guy, and he had always been sure to analyse and prepare for every outcome, and he was always weighing the costs of his relationships and seeing right through people and thinking way too much about everything—

—the realisation hit him like a tidal wave.

Oh.

Mualani grinned, satisfied. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts, then.”

Kinich barely registered her departure.

Because of course. Your relationship had never been transactional. All you ever did was give and give, and without even realising it, he’d poured his all into giving back without a moment’s hesitation. He’d never asked anything of you, nor you of him.

And because Kinich was a level-headed man, and ever-so-straightforward, there was no time wasted before he was at your front door.

If there was ever one thing he would ask of you, it was this.

“I like you, and I need to know if you feel the same.”

A grin found its home on your lips. A step forward and you closed some of the distance. The sparkle in your eyes did nothing to shake Kinich’s nerves, but it did make his stomach flip.

“Guess you’re the one falling for me now, huh?”

[ailesswhumptober]

Prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2024

As promised, we're bringing you the official prompt list of AI-less Whumptober 2024 today!

We have 31 days of excellent whump prompts, with three prompts per day to pick from, fun themes, and 10 alt prompts to play around with. We hope you enjoy! Additional info + plain text versions of the prompts can be found under the cut.

FAQ and Rules

What sort of content can I create for this event?

You can create whatever you want (fic, art, edits, etc). Any fandom is allowed, as well as OC stuff. NSFW is allowed, but please tag your content accordingly! The only thing not allowed is AI-generated content.

Do I need to make 31 things to participate?

Oh heavens no! You can make as much or as little content as you like, skip days when desired, or combine prompts (so for example, write something that covers a prompt from day 1, 2, AND 3). You don't have to do the days in order either, go wild! To be considered a 'completionist', you only have to make sure that at the end of the month, you've covered 31 prompts from 31 different days, but whether you do that in 31 works or just 1 is up to you.

What are these alts about?

If none of the three prompts of a particular day are your cup of tea, you can swap them out for an alt prompt of your choice.

What are these themes about?

Just a little bit of extra fun for the mods. Like last year, we'll be handing out various badges for people participating in the event. A full list can be found here, perhaps there is a special badge or two for people who can't be completionists but who do manage to finish every single day of a specific theme ;)

How do I tag and is there an AO3 collection?

It suffices to tag your work with #ailesswhumptober for us to see and reblog it! Please also tag nsfw, since we'll be using that tag too. Tagging the day is optional but does help the mods along.

There is an AO3 collection to add your fics to here.

That should be all. If you have any additional questions, check our pinned or hit us up in the ask box. Or join our discord maybe, whumping can be a great group activity!

---

Plain text versions of the prompts:

October 1 - Torture Tuesday

public torture/public use, stress position, “If you cry, we’ll go easy on you.”

October 2 - Whumperless Wednesday

Unfortunate fall, car accident, “Don’t move. You’ll be okay.”

October 3 - Trauma Thursday

Shared trauma, survivor’s guilt, “It’s not your fault.”

October 4 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Painful transformation, non-consensual body modifications, “You’re a monster.”

October 5 - Sensory Saturday

Overstimulation, migraines, “I can’t take this anymore.”

October 6 - Surprise Sunday

Multiple whumpees, self sacrifice, “I’m the only one who can do this.”

October 7 - Medical Monday

Field medicine, running out of supplies, “Hold on, we’re going to have to improvise.”

October 8 - Torture Tuesday

Rope burns, gagged, “You’re so much prettier this way.”

October 9 - Whumperless Wednesday

Hypothermia, heatstroke, “You look pretty pale.”

October 10 - Trauma Thursday

Self worth issues, pushing away a loved one, “You don't need to earn this.”

October 11 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Hallucinations, truth serum, “Why would you even say that?”

October 12 - Sensory Saturday

Isolation, sensory deprivation, “Can you feel me? I’m right here, whumpee.”

October 13 - Surprise Sunday

Whumpee using themself as bait, defiance, “Take me instead.”

October 14 - Medical Monday

Seizures, concussion, “See if you can follow my finger with your eyes.”

October 15 - Torture Tuesday

Waterboarding, removing body parts, “Don’t break down on me yet.”

October 16 - Whumperless Wednesday

Drowning, hostile environment, “I don’t know how anybody could survive that.”

October 17 - Trauma Thursday

Abandonment, misunderstanding, “Why did I even think you cared?”

October 18 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Mind control, possession, “Everybody will end up despising you.”

October 19 - Sensory Saturday

Disassociation, losing a sense, “I wish I could get you back.”

October 20 - Surprise Sunday

Enemy/Stranger to caretaker, accidental de-aging, “I’m absolutely not qualified for this shit.”

October 21 - Medical Monday

Drugged, ambulance ride, “This will make you feel better, okay?”

October 22 - Torture Tuesday

Forced (to kneel/watch/hurt somebody else), whipped, “Do not look away.” October 23 - Whumperless Wednesday

Fever, passing out, “Hey?! Stay with me, okay?!”

October 24 - Trauma Thursday

Deconditioning, relapse, “It’s normal that you need more time.”

October 25 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Humiliation, betrayal, “How could you?!”

October 26 - Sensory Saturday

Electrocution, burning, “This is going to sting.”

October 27 - Surprise Sunday

Before vs after, Alternate universe, “Well, there’s a first for everything.”

October 28 - Medical Monday

Internal bleeding, needles and stitches, “I didn’t think the wound was that bad…”

October 29 - Torture Tuesday

Ownership, branding, “Everybody will know that you’re mine.”

October 30 - Whumperless Wednesday

Poison, delirium, “You’re not making sense.”

October 31 - Trauma Thursday

Panic attack, facing a phobia, “You need to get out of here!”

Alt prompts:

1) Pistol whipped

2) Co-dependency

3) Animal bite

4) Zombies

5) White room torture

6) Shock collar

7) Pulling teeth

8) Kidnapping

9) “You always make everything worse!”

10) “If you weren’t around, I’d be long dead by now...”

[sugarcoated-lame]

Easy Like Sunday Morning | Joel Miller x Reader

pre-outbreak joel x reader

all of my works are 18+ only, minors dni!

Summary: You wake up before Joel and decide you want to take care of him.

or

giving 2003 pre-outbreak Joel some head on a sleepy Sunday morning

a/n: i was inspired by this post by the amazing @mrsmando 🤍 and her delicious joel thoughts that never fail to have me spiraling and swooning 🫠 if i had a nickel for every time i’ve written a joel fic about someone being woken up with some head, i’d have two nickels. which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice (sorry i had to lmfaoo). also this is probably the quickest thing i’ve ever written, so i’m sorry if it sucks!

wc: 2.8k

content warnings: no outbreak/pre-outbreak 2003 joel, kricket sucks at writing summaries we know this, smut, oral (m receiving), slightly rough oral, hair pulling, no physical description of reader except that her hair is long enough for joel to pull, pet names (darlin’, baby, sweetheart, pretty girl), no use of y/n, joel miller has a big dick because i said so, established relationship, somno (kinda? joel is like not really awake at the beginning of the smut), this is basically just smut :)

joel masterlist

dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍

⋆ . ˚ ✩ comments, reblogs, and feedback are greatly appreciated! ⋆ . ˚ ✩

Lazy Sunday mornings have become your favorite in the weeks since you moved in with Joel.

Nowhere to be, neither one of you has to get up before the sun and go to work. No rushing around to make sure Sarah gets to school on time — just sleep. It’s the one day a week both you and Joel get a chance to sleep in, to wake naturally without the shrill ringing of alarms, and just relish being wrapped up in the comfort of each other’s presence.

Eyes still shut as you begin to stir, your mind is only just waking up and the first thing you feel is warmth.

Warmth of the bright, golden Texas sun shining through Joel’s — well, now your — bedroom window and behind your closed lids. Warmth from the plush, gray comforter draped just over your calves, where it had been kicked down in the night in an attempt to curb the relentless, sticky summer heat.

You find yourself cocooned by the furnace-like warmth that is Joel as he lies on his back beside you — a warmth that would probably be overwhelming if it wasn’t such a comfort to you.

Your cheek is pressed to his broad chest, the steady beating of his heart a calming rhythm beneath your ear. Your torso flush against his side, you have an arm wrapped snug around his middle, and a leg draped over both of his. You and Joel both lay almost bare, each clothed in nothing but your underwear after the previous night’s activities — hot skin on hot skin.

When you finally let your eyes flutter open to the bright, morning light, you look up to find Joel still fast asleep and take a moment to admire the peaceful expression on his handsome face.

Long lashes fanning over his cheeks, his brows free of the worried crease that often rests between them, plush pink lips parted as he lets out quiet little snores, his strong chest slowly rising and falling, up and down beneath your cheek with each calming breath. Tanned skin warm and glistening with a light sheen of sweat, dark chocolate locks especially curly due to the humid Texas heat, a few sweaty strands clinging to his forehead.

Seeing Joel laid out like this only reminds you of the way he looked last night — all flushed beneath you, cheeks pink, head thrown back and brown eyes clenched shut in bliss as you hovered above him. Pulling quiet, deep grunts from his parted lips as you rode him, his big hands on your hips, guiding your movements as you lifted yourself up and down on his cock.

The reminder of just how full you felt with him inside you — of how goddamn good he makes you feel — has dampness forming beneath the thin fabric of your panties, thighs attempting to clench shut in search of friction to quell the wave of slick that’s building between your legs, though they’re unable to do so with Joel’s thick thigh slotted between them.

And, though you know Joel is still resting so peacefully beside you, and that you should probably let him sleep in for once, you can’t help it when you feel the sudden and urgent need to kiss him. To feel your lips on his skin.

These lazy Sunday mornings with Joel are your favorite because you know he’s always so busy, always working hard, always so stressed. And, that despite it all, he always takes such good care of you.

So, you want to take this opportunity, when he doesn’t have to be up for work, or take Sarah to school — and you know it’s a couple hours before she’ll be waking up — and you want to do something nice for him. Take care of Joel for once. To make him feel good.

Lifting your head from Joel’s chest, you press your lips to where your cheek had just been. Beginning at his pec, and over his heart, tasting the salt of his sweat-damp skin as you work your way up the broad plane of his chest, dotting feather-light kisses up to the juncture of where his shoulder meets his neck.

You gently untangle yourself from his side, and Joel begins to stir just slightly as you softly mouth along the column of his throat and move to hover over him, your thighs straddling his hips and hands on the mattress on either side of him to hold yourself up.

He’s still mostly asleep, but you can already feel through the layers of both of your underwear that he’s beginning to harden beneath you, his body waking up faster than his brain, always so responsive to your touch.

You continue to kiss across Joel’s strong jaw, over the patchy hair that tickles your lips, dotting a trail of sweet kisses up his cheek and to the tip of his sharp nose, then back down to his mustache and over the corner of his lips.

He stirs again when your lush lips press against his own just once, not quite awake enough to kiss back just yet, but this time a soft hum of approval leaves him at the pleasant feeling.

With one more peck to his soft lips, you begin your descent back down Joel’s body, leaving behind another smattering of kisses in your wake.

From his Adam’s apple to the rounded bone of his shoulder, then back down to his chest. You know he’s a bit more awake when you feel him begin to stir again — his strong body shifting ever so slightly beneath yours, dick twitching against your core underneath the layers of cloth as you place a barely-there kiss to each of his nipples. Joel lets out a sleepy groan as your tongue darts out to lick at the sensitive skin before continuing on your way.

Shifting your body lower on the bed, your kisses become a bit more feverish, less soft as you work your way down Joel’s torso. Your hunger for him only growing as you get closer and closer to the bulge in his boxers, spurred on by the breathy little grunts and groans leaving his parted lips as his mind begins to catch up to the pleasure that his body is feeling.

Joel lets out a content sigh, head still resting on his pillow, eyes still shut and still about half asleep. Unsure if he’s dreaming when he feels you press a firm kiss to the skin just above his navel.

He’s quickly pulled out of that dream-like state, though — breath catching in his throat, jolting beneath you as your warm tongue darts out lick a broad stripe over his soft belly.

You can’t help but grin as you look up to see his face, those pretty brown eyes now open but still bleary with sleep, pillowy lips parted in a gasp, sweaty curls falling over his forehead as he shifts his focus towards you.

“Morning, baby.” You whisper into the quiet of your bedroom, your chin resting on Joel’s tummy as you gaze up at him sweetly.

Your smile only grows when he cards a hand over his tired face, groaning out a tired ‘fuck’.

Now that he’s awake — just barely — you press your lips to his belly one last time before heading lower. Fitting yourself between Joel’s thick thighs, you kiss along the fine hairs of his happy trail, then his hip bones, and you know he’s fully hard when your hands glide up his thighs to palm him over his black boxers.

Joel releases a throaty groan as you stroke him through the soft fabric, one of his large hands coming up to the side of your head. Calloused pads of his fingers running gently through your bed-mussed hair. “Please, darlin’.”

The use of the pet name combined with Joel’s sleepy, Texan morning voice actually makes you whimper, clenching your thighs as a new gush of arousal floods between them. Needy for him as your fingers move to his waistband, gingerly but quickly pulling down the black, cotton fabric and freeing his impressive length.

A quiet, raspy moan escapes Joel’s lips as you spit into your hand before wrapping it around his cock. He’s long and thick and heavy in your hand, your fingers hardly able to wrap around the girth of him, his tip an angry red and leaking pretty pearls of precum.

He lets out a quiet hiss as you begin to stroke up from the base, leaning down to kiss along his tip before kitten-licking at the slit, a pleased hum leaving you at the salty, heady taste of his arousal. Joel’s mind is still a bit hazy with sleep, but he swears he’s died and gone to heaven when you lick a hot stripe along the underside of his cock, tongue laving over the thick vein that runs along his shaft.

The hand in your hair tightens its grip when you oh-so-delicately take Joel into your mouth, emitting a pleased hum from you as you gently suckle on his tip. The vibration sends a jolt up his spine, cock twitching in your grasp as you continue to stroke up and down his length with increasing ease as your spits begins to coat his skin. Delicate fingers wrapped tight around him moving up and down to meet your lips as your tongue swirls around the bulbous head.

You take your time, enjoying Joel’s quiet, raspy moans, the whispered curses, and shallow breaths all falling from his lips as you slowly take him deeper and deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth.

When you’re about halfway down his length, you suck in your cheeks, lips tightening around him as you begin to suck with more fervor and Joel has to bite back a desperate moan as you bob up and down his length. His hips buck up of their own volition — the feeling of your warm, wet mouth wrapped around him is just too good — the two of you groaning in unison as the movement sends his cock further between your lips, the tip just grazing the back of your throat and causing you to gag around him.

“Fuck, m’sorry, baby.” Joel drawls, gently smoothing a hand over the crown of your head. He lifts you up his length just a little bit, just enough to gather your bearings.

You release him from your mouth with a wet pop. A string of saliva still connects the two of you between his swollen, red tip and your now swollen lips, and Joel thinks he’s a goner when you wrap a hand tight around his shaft, leaning back in to kitten-lick at his slit.

You smear delicate kisses all along his tip, then up and down every inch of his length, all the while gazing up at him with doe eyes before you bring him between your spit-slicked lips once again.

“So good for me. Always so good for me.”

His morning voice is deep — deeper than normal — and it has your eyes rolling back into your head as you whimper around him, tears collecting at your lash line from having just taken him so deep so abruptly. Nodding your head as much as you can with his cock still in your mouth, you let Joel know that you’re okay to keep going.

You want to please him. He deserves this. You want to make him feel good.

You know that Joel is getting close from the way he’s fighting himself to not buck his hips and fuck up into your mouth, the hand that’s not in your hair clinging to the gray sheets like a lifeline. His chest rapidly rising and falling as he tries his hardest to keep at least somewhat quiet — he knows that his daughter is sleeping right down the hall — biting back gravely grunts and groans that you so wish you could hear at full volume, his cock twitching against your tongue with every little move you make.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you decide to take him as deep as you can go. Swallowing around him as his tip reaches into the depths of your throat, those tears are now spilling freely from your eyes as the coarse hairs at his base tickle your nose.

You suction your cheeks taut and lick along the underside of his shaft, the wet sounds of your sucking growing sloppy, Joel’s pubic hairs now shiny with your spit and his fingers are now pulling hard at your hair, the slight sting in your scalp a pleasurable one and only spurring you on.

A particularly harsh suck has Joel throwing his head back onto his pillow, sweaty curls falling like a halo around his pleasure-wrought features. Whiskey colored eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, nose scrunched, and lips parted in a quiet, guttural groan that lingers in the warm, sticky summer atmosphere of your shared bedroom.

“I’m— fuck!” He damn near whimpers when your free hands reaches out to caress his heavy balls, squeezing getnly as you continue to arduously suck and stroke his length, your hand and mouth working in tandem and meeting in the middle. “I’m close, sweetheart.”

You moan hungrily around him, the vibrations nearly sending Joel over the edge, the hand on your head now pushing you down onto his cock without hesitation – he knows you can take it. Hips thrusting up and chasing the velvety, wet warmth of your throat as you gag on him once more, drool spilling out the corners of your mouth all around him, the wet, sucking sounds filling the room obscene.

Joel practically growls when he feels your nails dig into the meat of his thigh, his chin dropping to his chest and he looks down to find you gazing back at him. Your cheeks hollowed, lips stretched around his aching cock, taking all of him like the good girl he knows you are. Your pretty, tear-filled eyes gazing up at him with so much love, and that’s what is his undoing.

You feel it when Joel’s whole body tenses beneath you, fireworks shooting up his spine as he starts to cum with a heavy groan that was lodged deep in his throat. You can’t help but moan around him as he fills your mouth, painting your throat with the hot, salty ropes of his release.

He mutters a string of broken moans, a mixture of curses and grunts of your name as you work him through it. The grip Joel has on your hair starts to lighten up — though, only a bit — but it’s enough for you to pull back on his length a bit to allow your hand to join your mouth in its ministrations. Slowly, but firmly, stroking him and sucking at his cock until you’re sure you’ve swallowed down every drop he has to give you, his stomach practically caving in by the time you’re done with him.

Until he’s reduced to shallow pants and hushed whimpers, Joel’s entire body shuddering as your lips lay one last kiss to his sensitive tip, and he drops an arm over his face, shielding his eyes from the now overwhelming light as he takes a few moments to catch his breath.

You let Joel take all the time he needs to recover, carefully tucking his softening length back into his black boxers.

It’s a few minutes before Joel uncovers his eyes, slowly blinking to adjust the the increasing brightness of the hot summer sun shining into the bedroom, and he’d swear you’re an angel, still nestled between his thighs. You’re busy littering the soft, tanned skin of his thighs and his belly in sweet little kisses and love bites when that deep, sleepy morning voices speaks up again.

“Well good mornin’ to you too, pretty girl.”

Before you can respond, two strong arms are pulling you up the bed — and up Joel’s body, a firm hand on the nape of your neck pulling you in so he can smash his lips to your puffy ones in a longing, appreciative kiss.

His deft hands then slide down your hips to grab your ass, squeezing at the soft flesh with a groan against your lips, before Joel is flipping the two of you over so he’s now the one hovering over you. A little yelp escapes you, but is quickly transformed into a stifled moan as his lips begin kissing a path down your body, now fully awake and more than ready to return the favor.

⋆ . ˚ ✩

⋆ . ˚ ✩

Thank you for reading!! x

[hxxsxxng]

ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE FAVORITE SEX POSITIONS

warnings; unprotected sex, creampie, kinda dubcon with sunghoon, titty sucking and probably other stuff

heeseung - missionary he loves looking his pretty girl in the eyes, seeing her facial expressions everytime he goes deeper. he likes seeing he face when she moans softly.

he leans down closer to your face and leaves small kisses on your neck, keeping his pace consistent. “it feels so good baby” he whispers, nibbling on your earlobe. you bring your hand up and run your fingers through his plum colored hair, keeping his head in the nape of your neck. “seungie, go faster, i’m getting close” you plead. he pulls his face away and grips your hips tighter, pushing deeper into your cunt. he speeds up his pace, making you both gasp. “yes ~ just like that” you let out, your lips agape. with a few more strokes, you begin to ride out your orgasm as he he fills you up with his warm cum. “i can’t get enough of this pussy”

jay - doggy FUCK. he quite literally goes feral over your cunt. he wants to bury himself as deep as possible, and he LOVES gripping your ass as he pounds you.

“shit baby, it’s so fucking tight” he groans as he slides the tip in. your pussy always sucked him in as soon as he started. he pushed the rest in until his pelvis met your skin. you couldn’t help to let out a quiet yelp at the feeling of being full so suddenly, even though you both have fucked a thousand times over. he rests both of his hands on your ass, griping them for leverage. he begins going in and out slowly, because he knows it takes a while for you to adjust. “so wet for me” he chuckled. he grabbed both of your wrists and crossed them on your lower back, holding them in place. he begins to fuck into you mercilessly, without a warning and you moan loudly. “fuuck~~~” you cry out.

jake - cowgirl jake is lowkey a switch. he likes to take control, but sometimes he loves when his girl is dominant. he isn’t against the idea. he enjoys watching her move her body so perfectly.

you sat up on your knees and grabbed his dick, gliding it across your wet folds. you are having such a hard time slipping it into you tight cunt, you have to spread the moisture. your other hand rests flat on jake’s chest as you slowly slide down his length. he bites his bottom lip and looks up at you with needy eyes, reaching out for your tits like a kid in a candy store. you begins to move your hips slowly, feeling jake get harder. your pussy is so wet the moisture has transferred to his stomach, though, he has always liked it messy. once you lean down to get better movement, his mouth latches onto your nipple like a magnet. the wet noises coming from your core was music to jake ears. his eyes started to roll to the back of his head with each stroke. “fuck ~ it feels so good when you ride me.”

sunghoon - spooning you and hoon are kind of lazy ( nothing wrong with that ) and spooning gives easy access. he especially love this when y’all are cuddling before going to bed, then it turns into something more ;)

he slid his hand up your stomach and onto your chest as you both layed in bed, him behind you. your hair smelled like coconut. his hardness pressing closer and closer to your already wet cunt. he brings his hands down to the waist band of your shorts, pulling them down your thighs. once the were down far enough to allow entrance, he released his dick from his boxers and slowly stroked himself. he rubbed his tip against your ass, and then you folds. you let out a small whimper at the sudden contact. he slides in and immediately brings his free hand to your love handles. he goes in and out at a constant pace, with his other hand covering your mouth to make sure you don’t wake anyone up.

SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING

[tetzoro]

LOVERS ROCK — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. zoro roronoa !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : zoro has a new outfit for your excursion to egghead island and it fits him a little too well . . .

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader. thigh riding, dry humping, multiple orgasms, praise, zoro calls you pretty, — WC : 1.9k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : i figured posting this on hump day was fitting. enjoy ! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

zoro’s musk wraps around you as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. steel, sweat, blood, and the salt of the sea all wrapped into one. the scent of something dangerous that should leave you repulsed only draws you in more. 

because you know better, you know what every inch of his body tastes like, how addicting it is when it melts on the tip of your tongue. can he blame you when you press your lips against the skin of his neck, humming approvingly as you steal another taste?

he lets out a groan that reverberates against your lips, one that has your kiss turning into something more vicious as you suck against the spot, leaving your mark for all the world to see. 

“easy.” zoro’s voice is low, his fingers tightening against your hips. the heated make out session was quickly becoming more as your lips latched near the column of his throat, feeling his pulse quicken under your tender care.

“can’t. it’s this suit.” you reluctantly ease up, warm breath fanning over the agitated spot you proudly left behind. “looks so good on you, zo.”

“yeah?” zoro couldn’t help but feel a little smug at your reaction to it. “why didn’t you just say so?”

“was me rubbing up against you not a big enough hint that i found it hot?” you pull back, giving him a pointed look. 

“how should i know?” his face heats up, singeing pink as he makes eye contact with you. “you act like this no matter what i do!”

“shut up.” you huff, looking away as your own cheeks become warm. “i do not.”

“yeah you do.” zoro’s hand found your chin, bringing your attention back to him. the blush that softly blooms upon his face dances along his cheeks as it spreads to his ears. “its cute.”

you open your mouth to retaliate once again but he beats you to it, using the opportunity to slot his greedy lips against yours as he pulls you in for another heated kiss. one that stole the breath from your lungs and replaced it with desire, a deep longing for his touch even though he was sitting right beneath you. you needed more. 

decidedly, you easily maneuver yourself from his lap to his thigh, the thick muscle sturdy as you straddle it. biting back a moan, you let out a soft strangled noise that slips into zoro’s awaiting mouth. electricity coursed through you both, a shift in the air that wraps around your shoulder, weighing you down to sink your core further against his toned thigh. 

“couldn’t even wait for me to get out of the suit, huh?” zoro whispers against your kiss bitten lips, hands gripping your sides as he holds you in place. if he wasn’t so damned strong you’d have moved by now, given into your lecherous thoughts that heat up your core with unadulterated need.

zoro flexes his muscle, testing you and gauging your reaction. even though you were separated by the almost comically skin tight clothing, the pressure sent your eyes reeling to the back of your head. with a short chuckle, he unflexes and the intensity simmers, leaving you full of want.

“zoro,” you mewl out in frustration, the sound dangerously close to a whine. your fingers grip into the plushness of his coat, more than ready to use it as leverage as soon as you can move your hips. “what are you waiting for?”

slowly, zoro begins to rock your hips against him, a steady pace that feels different from normal — it was alarmingly easier. the fabric of the suit was so slick on its own that you could slide along it with no problem, no hiccups. 

“just gonna ease you —“ zoro starts before you smack his hands away. enough was enough and he was going far too slow for your liking. he lets go, his smirk resting on his face as he holds his hands up in false surrender before moving them to rest on your thighs. “impatient, huh?”

ignoring his comment, you start moving your hips and just like you thought –  you could gain a lot of speed. with a steady hold on his jacket, your hips behind to move on their own accord, not an ounce of hesitation as your clit deliciously runs along his flexed muscle.

“z-zoro,” you breathe out, head lolling back as you keep up the pace. zoro could feel how wet you were, your own suit didn’t leave much to the imagination either and the wet spot forming on his covered thigh was steadily growing. 

“feel good?” he asked, beginning to continuously flex and unflex his thigh, the ridges catching along your clit and only making you spiral more.

“mhm.” you nod, already feeling the coil within you ready to snap. “so, so good zo.”

“filthy girl.” zoro kisses along your jaw, moving down your neck as your pace stutters. you could always tell your praise affected him, stirring something deep inside of him as the ghost of the smile seeping into your skin while he brushes his lips along your jugular. “if you keep this up, i’m gonna have to get a whole new suit.”

“can’t stop—“ you gasp out, breathy pants leaving your lips as you get closer to your high. 

“then don’t.” 

two words that had an unintentional ripple effect, your body moving without any forethought, driven by instinct and lust for the man smugly sitting under you, expertly watching you with lust-blown eyes as you take what you need.

each delicious drag along his thigh was sending electricity up your spine, the pleasure invading your brain and turning it into nothing more than a dull static, desperately chasing the high that you’re sure will bring you clarity once again.

distantly, you hear zoro muttering sinful praises, running his mouth in encouragement as you ascend to new heights. your center of gravity was dependent on him and the mind-numbingly corded muscles that make up his thigh. one wrong move and everything would tilt on its axis — you’re not sure if the thought excited you or not.

“shit, i’m gonna —!” you yelp out, your voice finally able to break through the steady moans and whimpers that were flowing out of your mouth like water. 

“let go f’me, c’mon.” zoro gives your upper thigh a harsh squeeze and your body locks up under the searing touch. it was earth shattering, so much so that the lower half of your body stuttered against the slippery fabric, cries of his name tumbling from your lips. “atta girl.”

the praise messed with your mind even more, melting it into a puddle that zoro was destined to lap up like a dog on a rainy day. you squeeze your eyes shut as the after effects still course through your body, gripping onto his shoulders like the world depended on it.

after struggling to catch your breath for a moment, you slump against him a bit, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder. his palm soothingly runs along your back, easing you down and back to him, right where you belong.

“you good?” his low, gruff voice seeps into your skin and you only want to burrow deeper into the comfort of it. you make a small sound and reluctantly pull back, the look in his eye darkening. it was clear how much he wanted you.

“mhm.” you whisper, your palms running along the skin tight suit, agonizingly taking your time. your core still felt so gooey, like burning lava that was hot to the touch. each motion you take was lazy and uncoordinated until your fingers trailed along his covered abs that ripple in anticipation, making sure to outline each divot. “gonna take it off now?”

“takes too long to take the whole thing off. besides,” zoro’s breathing gets a bit heavier as your hand keeps moving lower to where he’s pulsing with need. there's a short pause before he roughly grabs you by your backside and lifts you up toward him, “can’t wait.”

moving over his covered length, the fabric was so thin you could feel him throb with need, each beat making your head spin more and more. zoro groans as you nestle in place, head tossing back at the sudden pressure. his hips jolt up to chase the thread of friction you tease him with, growing more impatient with every glide you take.

“cmon.” zoro grunts out, not wasting any more time as he takes control, moving your hips over him. you gasp as he thrusts against you, needily chasing his own high. “do what you did earlier.”

“now look at who the impatient one is. hmm?” you tease, grabbing onto his coat once again for leverage. but the need he felt transferred to you as soon as he let out another groan. mercifully, you  give into his desire as you quickly match his pace, your arousal igniting throughout your body.

“shut up.” he barks with no bite. “you’re gonna make me cum in this thing.”

“isn’t that the point?” you tease, your tongue poking out along the shell of his ear, before your nose nudges along his earrings. “i want you to come for me, zoro.”

“fuck.” he gasps out, fingers harshly gripping your backside as he moves you quicker, the friction burning you both up, ready to consume you whole. with a curt slap to your ass, he gives his order. “keep going.”

and you do. moving along him as if you were really riding his cock just the way he likes, gliding over him as your clit throbs against his cock, the combined heat suffocating you both.

zoro tried to remain intact, but you could see him tearing at the seams, strings of his self control spiraling out of control as you do a number on him. pretty saliva covered lips parted with grunts steadily pouring out, face rosey and scrunched up in pleasure. 

you move your hands to weave themselves in his hair, tugging harshly that forced a choked groan from him. through half lidded eyes, he looks back up at you with stars shining in his iris, twinkling with his love for you; a supernova waiting to explode.

“close for me?” you coo, watching as his mind goes blank, his grip tightening. “wanna watch you cum.”

“fuck—“ he head tosses back for a minute, steeling himself to outlast you as long as possible, but it was a lost cause. his next words grit through his teeth, his self restraint being heavily tested. “yeah, yeah i am. too fuckin’ pretty.”

“zo-.” you gasp, your second orgasm pooling in your core, ready to erupt as his compliment rushes down your body, tightening it up as it works its way down.

forever fated to be together, your pleasure merges into one — both of you hurdling over the edge. zoro cums with a grunt of your name before biting his lip so hard he almost draws blood. 

there’s an inexplicable warmth that blooms between your thighs, a mix of your mess swirling with the warm cum that steadily flows out of his cock. the fabric that separates you is fully drenched with both of your arousal and the thought only drags out your pleasure.

“mmm.” you fully slump on him this time, curling into his body as yours turns boneless — nothing more than a heap of limbs with a heartbeat that beats to his name.

“happy now?” zoro breathes out, his chest still rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath. 

“mhm, so happy.” you purr, shutting your eyes. 

“good because my suit is ruined.” zoro grumbles. as if he really cares. you let out a chuckle, your hand wandering along his biceps.

“that’s too bad.” you grip his puffy coat once again, pressing  your lips to his ear, his earrings clinking together as you brush past them. “guess you’ll just have to take it off.”

thank you so much for reading ! ᰔ

[soangelbaby]

ও need your kids ; jensen ackles

“. . . have a baby by me, baby be a billionaire . . .”

jensen grips your hips, lifting you slightly off the bed to remove your white lace panties. “you want my babies huh?” he smirked, lining his dick up at the slit of your already leaking pussy. he didn’t slide in immediately, instead he teased you, brushing his tip lightly against your soaking folds. you didn’t answer, just reached up gripping his shirt, “jensen—fuck please..” you moaned as you watched him play in your juices. he always went for games, always made you beg, with him nothing ever came easy. why would this be any different?

“please what baby? tell me what you need, i can’t read your mind.” he snickers, his hands travel up your body, stopping just at the curve of your waist. his eyes were locked on you, he loved the sight of you so desperate and needy for him, so vulnerable, he could keep you like this forever. “please nut in me, fill me up, want all of you.” you breathed out, your fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. jensen let out a low chuckle before leaning down to kiss you sloppily, he moved down to your neck sucking on your sweet spot. your polished nails clawed at his back as you felt his dick at your entrance again, but this time he slips in—no warning.

“f-fuck yes, jensen.” you moan out, feeling his dick veins rub against your walls, you could hear how wet you were for him, each thrust drawing everything out of you. his face was still buried in your neck, nipping and biting at the skin there, you were sure a hickey was already forming. “that’s it, take it all. let’s see if i can finally knock you up this time, yeah?” he groans against you, your stomach does flips as you let his words sink in. you wanted it so bad, no—you needed it, needed to see his cum leaking out of you, needed to milk him completely until he had nothing left to give, you wanted every single drop.

“mhm, baby—ugh—need all of it.” you arch into him, his dick repeatedly hitting your g-spot. his pace is brutal, relentless, there’s nothing soft about the way he’s fucking you, like he’s trying to bury himself so far you’ll never get him out. his fingers press against your lower belly, feeling every inch of himself there, how deep he’s buried inside you. “you feel that, baby? feel how deep i am? you’re gonna take all of it.” his voice low, thick with possession as he spreads your thighs wider for him, nearly behind your head. you nod, lips parting, but no words come out—just a breathy, wrecked little whine. your hands gripping his arms, fingertips leaving little crescents in his skin as his dick twitches inside of you. your legs lock around his waist and his thrusts become harsher, more punishing.

“shit babydoll, so tight and swollen for me.” jensen growls into your mouth. “tell me how bad you want my seed baby, tell me how bad you want me to make you a mommy, gonna fucking ruin you for anyone else.” his hand slips down between you to trace lazy circles over your clit, making your hips jolt. the added sensation is enough to send you over the edge, your entire body trembles beneath him, drawing a loud throaty whine from you. “there it is, such a good girl. taking my dick so well, this pretty pussy is all mine.” his weight is firm, pinning you in place as he ruts into you with reckless abandon. his lips drag along your jawline, breath hot against your skin—and then you feel it. the warm liquid shooting into you, coating your walls, and a guttural moan escapes jensen’s lips, rumbling against your skin. your walls clench around him, keeping his nut inside, it flooding you, spilling so deep into your spent little pussy.

“now get ready for another one, i’m not pulling out until i know it stuck kay? you wanted me raw, right baby?”

☆ rini’s note ; thought of this listening to 50 cent last night, it’s a little rushed and not really proofread js bc i was excited ???? idk enjoy or don’t ;) tho likes + reblogs are so so appreciated!

[miumura]

BE MY LUCKY SEVEN STRIKE! 𖦏 H.TAESAN !

THE CHARM BEHIND IT ALL ◟ ⟡ with even the amount of times you seem to show “disinterest,” that doesn’t stop taesan from trying to be with the one he considers as his “lucky one”.

LUCKY ONES ( 🍀 ) skater ! taesan x fem ! reader ───

(MIS)PLUCKED CLOVERS ╱ fluff ∿ use of petnames, reader kind of plays hard to get, taesan is confident/cocky (?) but he simply just has a massive crush 🫠

REACH YOUR DESTINATION WITHIN ｡ ｡ 2.4K+ WORDS !

─── MESSAGE FROM LUCKY CLOVER ◟ ⟡ hihi this is a taesan fic dedicated to @htaesan , my gongfourz half 🤍🍀 simply because i’m lucky to have her in my life ( lucky charmz in action !! ) . . and for lili — i may or may not have went through one of your blogs and gathered inspo through your reblogs… i’ll make better fics for you soon ♡♡

❛❛ 💬 ❞ 𝗦𝗢𝗣𝗛 > 𓂃 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗖𝗞 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗕𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗙 ⋮ 🪽

Taesan didn’t spare a single second—once he saw the clock hit 6 P.M., he was immediately out of the door. He barely managed to grab all of his belongings, let alone spray that favorite cologne of his–the one he swore he could never leave without. None of that really mattered though.

There was only one thing on his mind.

The wheels of his skateboard hit the pavement as he hopped on, quickly weaving through the streets. With the speed that he was going at, if anyone had seen him, they’d know instantly–Taesan definitely wanted to be somewhere.

Now, what was he that eager for?

His wheels immediately screeched against the floor, signaling his abrupt stop, his gaze looking at the entrance of the large building ahead. The crowd of people spilling out could have been overwhelming, but with Taesan, none of that seemed to faze him.

His eyes scanned the crowd for only a second before landing on you. It was almost too easy to spot you—your bag slung casually over your shoulder, your head turning from side to side as though you were searching for something.

Or maybe…someone.

There you were—the very person who made his heart pound harder than his feet hitting against the pavement. The one that made him rush out of his house without a second thought.

His pretty girl—well, at least, not yet.

The corners of his lips twitched into a smile as he stood there, watching you from a distance for a moment longer than he probably should have. Something about you had just enough to distract him.

But when you turned to walk away, Taesan snapped out of his trance, immediately pushing off to catch up. The familiar sound of his skateboard’s wheels rolling against the pavement filled the air, and he couldn’t help but grin, knowing you’d recognize it instantly. After all, it had practically become a daily routine for you to hear that sound whenever he was around.

“In a rush, today?” Taesan finally broke the silence, his voice light as he effortlessly glided beside you. He couldn’t help but notice you subconsciously picking up your pace after hearing the skateboard.

“Maybe,” you replied curtly, throwing him a sideways glance, eyes fixated on the street and the street only.

Taesan couldn’t help but chuckle. This was practically routine for him by now—leaving his house just to see and greet you, while you did everything in your power to ignore him. Yet somehow, your attempts to brush him off only made it harder for him to stay away.

Maybe that was it. Maybe it was the way you tried so hard to keep your walls up, only for them to crack ever so slightly, that made you so utterly distracting to him.

Not that he would complain, though.

Before you could get too far, Taesan hopped off his skateboard effortlessly, soon tucking it under his arm as he jogged a few steps ahead. In one swift move, now ahead of you–or in fact, right in front of you, which forces you to come to a sudden halt.

“Hey,” he said, his dorky grin on full display, his free hand giving you a small wave while the other kept his skateboard secured in one arm.

“Are you seriously doing this again?” you blinked, clearly unimpressed.

“Doing what?”

“Trying to walk home with me every single time,” you deadpanned, your eyes slightly narrowing at the sight of the guy’s grin never faltering from his face. “Do you have nothing else better to do?”

He shrugged, the spark in his eyes seemingly getting brighter. “Other than the skating competitions and skate hangouts I have with my friends, nothing is better than this.”

With nothing to say, you simply walked around him, continuing on with your path. It didn’t take long for him to be right back where he was as you heard the faint footsteps behind you.

There he was, catching up again, as persistent as ever.

“And those two things still can’t beat walking with you,” he added smoothly, finishing what he was supposed to say before he could let his words slip out of your mind.

You scoffed at his remark, shaking your head in disbelief. The audacity. Yet somehow, the tiniest smile tugged at the corner of your lips, though you made sure to keep it hidden from him.

Taesan let out an audible laugh, the sound light and carefree, clearly pleased with himself for earning a reaction. He slid right back into his place beside you, matching your pace effortlessly, as if walking together was the most natural thing in the world.

It was quiet for a few seconds–emphasis on the word–few–since Taesan couldn’t wait any longer and started to open his mouth again.

“Need me to carry your bag for you?” he asked, his voice light and teasing, just like the expression on his face. It was the same playful look he always wore whenever you two walked—though the walk back home together wasn’t exactly by your choice.

You shifted your gaze to him, eyebrows furrowed. He’d caught you off guard, as usual. While it was true you’d brought home more paperwork than usual, it was nothing you couldn’t manage.

“I am capable of carrying it myself,” you shot back, gripping the strap of your bag tighter as if to prove your point.

“I know you can, but I just want to,” he replied, his voice softer now. When you looked at him again, his face wasn’t teasing this time—it was warm, genuine, and entirely disarming.

Your mind stuttered at the change. That look… It was rare. At least, it seemed rare to you, given how hard you tried not to meet his eyes these days. But now you couldn’t help but wonder: just how many times had he looked at you like that before?

You were mentally cursing yourself–both for having your thoughts stray off, but also remaining silent on the other end. After all, why were you thinking so heavily about this?

It’s not like it mattered, you reasoned. You didn’t care. You didn’t want to care. But, why did your chest feel tight all of a sudden? Why couldn’t you shake that look from your mind?

“So—pretty girl—can I help you carry that?” Taesan asked once more, breaking you out of your train of thought. There was that look again–the way his eyes grew slightly wider but softer, and the usual smirk turning into a normal expression, but it still carried so much weight.

You hesitated, your grip tightening on the strap of your bag for just a second longer. Then, with a faint sigh, you gave in, slowly slipping the strap off your shoulder and holding the bag out to him. “Don’t complain if your shoulder starts hurting,” you muttered. “And stop calling me that.”

Taesan took the bag with ease, adjusting it onto his shoulder before flashing another grin—this one bigger, showing a hint of teeth. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, even as your own focus remained fixed on the road ahead.

He couldn’t help but find your stubbornness endearing. What might come off as irritating to someone else only made him more drawn to you.

After all, things were only fun with you.

Sure, Taesan had experienced plenty of thrilling moments before—winning first place in a skating competition, nailing a trick he’d practiced for weeks, or hearing his friends cheer him on. But none of those feelings came close to this.

Being with you was something else entirely. It wasn’t loud or wild; it wasn’t the rush of adrenaline he was used to. It was softer, quieter. The determination he felt when skating still lingered, but now it was different. It didn’t come with pressure or nerves—it transformed into something calmer, something that let him breathe freely.

Taesan always felt comforted whenever he was around you. No matter how many times you brushed off his attempts to ask you out or tried to ignore his presence, he couldn’t shake the feeling that, deep down, you felt the same way he did. Although he could be reckless, there are moments where his eyes lingered more attentively on you. He notices the way how your signature scowl softens the longer he was around, or the way your flustered reactions betrayed the walls you worked so hard to keep up.

With that alone, those small glimpses of signs were enough to keep him going.

If he could put it into words, he’d call you a clover–four leafed one at that. Meeting you felt like fate to him; he considered himself impossibly lucky to have crossed paths with you.

Ever since you entered his life, things ended up falling right into place. It’s like how people search for four-leaf clovers, having the desire to hold onto them forever; Taesan felt the same way about you. In his mind, you weren’t just someone he liked–you were truly his lucky charm.

So, if he were to be compared to those who hope and search to find these rare clovers, he would be just as focused on being able to have you in his life. His determination only showed that he wanted to hold on to this, to you.

Silence had stretched between you both, but it didn’t seem to bother Taesan in the slightest. For Taesan, he has always been involved in lively environments and movement; he found a sense of calmness in these moments with you.

“Will you stop staring at me like that?” You say after peeking at Taesan through your peripheral vision, feeling as if the silence was almost a little too much. You always expected him to say something, so any silence that was longer than five minutes was almost unbearing.

"Are you paying attention to me now?" Taesan teased, his voice a little too pleased with himself.

"Huh… as if," you muttered, doing your best to ignore him.

Taesan smirked, dragging out his words just enough to make the tension build. "I don’t know, it seems like you’ve been a lot more interested in me lately."

“Was your ego always this high?” you turned to raise your eyebrow at him, trying to maintain an indifferent tone in your voice.

“Maybe only around you it is,” he admitted with a grin, earning another scoff from your lips. Your footsteps, once perfectly in sync with his, came to a halt, the quiet sound of your steps now the only thing breaking the silence.

You turned around to face Taesan, your expression etched with confusion—or at least, that's what you wanted it to seem like.

"So, speaking of which," he started, his grin unfaltering as he closed the distance between you, "pretty girl, will you finally give me a chance?"

“A chance for?” you questioned, although knowing exactly where this was going.

“For us—you know, for me to ask you the very question you hate.”

“Hate is a strong word.”

“It’s not my fault that you act like you do,” he countered, his teasing tone shining through.

For once, you didn’t throw a scowl his way. Instead, you let out a small chuckle, crossing your arms as you tilted your head slightly. "Alright, then. Tell me."

“What?” Taesan’s eyes dilated slightly, his usual confidence wavering as he carefully gauged the sudden shift in your demeanor.

“Tell me the question I hate.”

“Do you want to…” His voice carried a hint of hesitation, making him wonder if this was even a right moment to ask you this–he had never felt like this before. His lips felt almost parched, leading him to press his lips together before he continued, “go out with me?”

“If I go out with you,” you trailed off, making Taesan’s curious eyes wander on your lips. “What’s in it for me?”

Taesan froze for a moment, the quick-witted remarks he usually had at the ready slipping from his mind one by one. His mouth opened, but all that came out was a soft, uncertain, "Um." Everything felt new to him.

He had never gotten too far with his confession before.

"Do you even know where you’d take me for our first date?" you teased, chuckling lightly as you stared at Taesan’s fidgety figure. You could see the way his grip on his skateboard tightened as his eyes almost carried a far-off, blank look–like his mind was racing but still empty.

If Taesan had to be honest, his brain had fixated entirely on two words from your question: first date. Were you actually considering it?

Wait, no—scratch that. He had to think back to your question.

Did he even know where he wanted to take you?

He was there, almost frozen, his brain malfunctioning. His mouth was parted, almost like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth.

That was when you took the chance to grab the bag strap off his shoulder, sliding it back on yours with ease.

“Have a proper plan next time,” you said, replicating the same smile he’d been giving you the past few weeks, giving him a tap on his shoulder. “and maybe I’ll have an answer you’d want by then.”

You continued to walk your way home as if nothing had happened, leaving him standing there, completely dumbfounded. For a moment, Taesan didn’t move. His stunned expression lingered as your words echoed in his head, but it didn’t last long.

You knew he would’ve been right behind you again, talking your ear off again.

And that’s exactly what he did.

His disbelief would soon melt into a grin—an extremely wide one this time—before he jogged after you to catch up.

You didn’t turn to look at him, though the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to suppress as his voice filled the air again. His usual stories about his day—filled with compliments that always seemed to flow in the (one-sided) conversation effortlessly—were becoming longer. His energy radiated a cheerful feeling, as if the world around him had suddenly grown brighter and lighter with every word he spoke.

Taesan didn’t mind your silence–he usually never did. However, hearing what seemed like an answer–at least to him–only fueled his determination even more.

He wanted to turn your exasperated sighs and annoyed glares into soft smiles and loving eyes. He wasn’t naive enough to think it would happen simply overnight, but Taesan had always thrived on challenges.

With this challenge, he also knew one thing for sure: he’d get his lucky clover soon.

‘���’ ─── tws songs are too good …. and ohh to be considered as someone’s lucky clover 🍀

BND PERM TAGLIST ( OPEN ) — @juyeoz @j4d @itsactuallylina @rizzwoos

[ohcaptains]

𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬.

 pairing. anakin skywalker x f!reader 

synopsis. anakin finds loopholes in the jedi code.

warnings. 18+. this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy my shit, i’ll find out. cock warming, p in v penetration but no movement. whimper-y anakin, if you move i'll leave the jedi order type beat.  

an. just a little something i wrote for the kinktober i never did. I thought i'd post instead of letting it collect dust in my drafts. the prompt was cockwarming! hope i did anakin justice<3 pls comment & reblog.

You find him at the window.

Sitting, with his thighs open and chest bare, staring out into the abyss. The night glints at the beads of sweat sliding down his chest, and his fingers drum endlessly against his thighs.

He heard you wake up, so he’s expecting your company, and has leaned back against the chair – thin black gown falling open – ready for you to climb all over him.

It happens often.

It’s not uncommon to wake up without him.

Most nights, you startle out of your slumber – as if even asleep, you’d sensed a shift – and blink at the space on the mattress beside you.

Finding him was easy.

You pad through the living room and wordlessly reach him in his post-nightmare state. His hair is tousled, sculpted chest is slick with sweat -- there’s an energy vibrating off of him, and you can taste it in the air.

Stepping behind him, you gently run the tips of your fingers over his shoulders, and the whirlpool in Anakin’s belly settles for a second. When you move into frame, it’s gone completely, replaced by a warm heat that has roots. He breathes a smile.

“Like clockwork.”

You give him a sheepish grin in return and fiddle with the fabric of your small nightgown. There’s a moment where Anakin gets to look at you – all sleepy and cuddly – and he’s ready to escape with you off of this forsaken planet.

His will holds strong.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” he asks, raising a scarred brow, and despite your groggy state, you still manage to roll your eyes. Stepping closer, you use his broad shoulders as anchors to slip onto his lap.

“Don’t make that face,” Anakin hushes, and while you settle back onto his thighs, his metal hand comes up. He traces the line of your jaw, “You know I let you do what you want.”

His spare hand steadies your hips, and it’s still warm from his lightsaber. Calloused fingers run over your skin, reminding you of the fight that’s leaving scars – the war that’s brewing, both inside and outside of his mind.

In moments like this, though, there’s a subtle calm.

An impenetrable force that hums over the pair of you.

You lean into his palm and whisper, “Not everything.”

There’s a haunted edge to your gaze, and your words are loaded. Anakin knows what you mean, knows all the intricacies of your subtle dig, and yet, he still manages to smile.

Well, smirk.

“What do you want? Just say the word.”

You wouldn’t, and Anakin knows that. He’s caught your bluff, and you manage a bashful smile before gently leaning forward, dragging your hips against his lap.  

Anakin’s cloth-covered thigh nestles against the thin fabric of your underwear. Your smile falters, lips parting. You push your forehead against his, and whisper, “If I say the words, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“I know,” he breathes, “I know.”

I want more.

A life together, not stolen moments when the sun is down.

An attachment. A bond.

But it’s forbidden.

It’s why it can’t go any further than this.

“What’d you dream about?” you wonder. Anakin pulls his eyes away from you, instead looking to where his thigh sits. The silence is your answer.

“I’ll still ask, even if you never tell.”

He takes hold of your bare thighs, rubbing his hands up and down, and you hum his name, reaching out to push his hair behind his ears.

“Pretty boy.”

“Stop it,” he huffs, cheeks reddening.

But how can you? When he’s all sharp lines and long hair. You run your hands up the bare panes of his muscular chest, feeling the deft of his muscles, and the dampness on his skin.

The air changes – hums electric – and it buzzes as you push his gown off his shoulders.

Carefully, you lean forward and place a chaste kiss against his collarbone.

“That’s better.”

Anakin hums a laugh. His hands snake around to your lower back, dig into the fat of your ass, and using the grip there, he gently rocks you forward once, forcing your clothed cunt to drag against his muscular thigh.

You whimper. It’s quiet, but Anakin can hear it, even if it’s muffled by his shoulder.

“’ S’what you came out here for, huh?” he whispers. The electric flooding through the walls hums, but the room is still eerily silent. Anakin’s voice is a roar.

You lick your lips and drag your face up to see him. “No,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss against his top lip, “I like being with you, even if we don’t do this.”

Anakin has to close his eyes. Words like those are fuel to the fire brimming in his chest, and it doesn’t help that you wrap your arms around his neck and fiddle with the tail end of his hair.

Arching your back, you slowly roll backwards, then forward, teasing the bulge between his legs.

Releasing a shaky breath, you repeat the motion, again, and again, near humping his leg.  

A familiar ache begins to swell, coiling between your thighs and up into your belly. It makes you clench around nothing, and you mewl quietly, wishing for more – always wishing for more.

Still, you continue, slick pooling into your underwear and against his thigh.

Anakin can’t look at you. If he sees your face, his resolve will falter.

His nerves are shot. If he couldn’t feel how wet you are, he could smell it, and it makes a groan bristle behind his teeth.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck and busies himself with kissing at the soft shell of your throat, careful not to leave marks.

Once, you left a mouth-shaped mark against his stomach, and he looked at it every day for a week.

Caught himself with his top up in the mirror looking at the reflection, eyeing the way the mark sat on the firm lines of muscle, fading away with time.

A dark part of him wanted the mark on the slope of his neck.

“Wanna be inside of you.”

His admission rests heavily against your throat, and you’re thankful that he can’t see the way you clench your eyes closed.

Though, he does feel you tighten your grip on the back of his head. Feels you shift up against his thigh, and the warmth pooling in your underwear burns against him.  

He can sense you’re hesitant.

“’ can be like last time. Just – Just --” he stutters, licking his lips and struggling to release the words from the back of his throat. Finally, he manages. “--Sit on it.”

“Anakin.”

He pulls away from your neck and looks up at you.

“We can use it as an exercise.”

A laugh bursts from your throat, “To test your will?”

He smiles, and because you have to, you push your cunt against his crotch, uttering, “Want me to make It difficult for you?” and white flashes through Anakin’s eyes.

He grabs your hips to steady you, tensely pushing his fingers into your skin.

“Hardest challenge I’ll ever encounter.”

“You eager to impress?”

He kisses your jaw, “Don’t I always?”

“Mm,” you hum, cradling his chin. You shift back so he can pull his trousers down, and when you take his cock in your hand, he melts. His commanding aura switches for a moment, and you watch Anakin still his breathing.

You push your underwear to the side, and as you lift yourself to sink onto him, Anakin breathes, “Just the tip – just a little bit, j-just—” and he chokes on his words, gasping as you brush the leaking head of his cock through your folds.

You halt. Whimper. Have to grip his shoulder to steady yourself, or you’ll push him inside of you all at once and hurt yourself.

You inhale steadily.

“Have to – have to go slow,” you spurt, trying to calm your tremors.  

“It’s been a while since…”

You don’t have to finish your sentence. Anakin knows, and he feels a mix of pride and guilt. Only me, he thinks, and then, like a flash, only me, he swallows. And I can’t give her everything.

This. This is as far as it’ll go. He knows he’s pushing it. Knows that he’s come up with some convoluted rule to both have his cake and eat it too.

If he fucks you the way he wants to, he’ll fall in love with you. As if it hasn’t happened already.

Anakin has made lying to himself a speciality.

You push against him once more, and the tip of his cock nudges between your folds, forcing an ache to shoot through your clit and make you dizzy. You stop. Pause and curse yourself.

A slow burn builds in your thighs, and you clench down to try and mediate the burn. Anakin grunts.

“Maker,” he utters. “Sorry—” you splutter, sucking in a tight breath.

Anakin wraps his metal arm around the back of your hips, hoping to steady you. “Lemme,” he mumbles, and gently, he flexes his hips up, slowly feeding his cock into your soaked pussy.  

Your lower abdomen immediately burns.  

He’s being calm about it – using all his training – but there’s nothing calm about the words trickling out of his mouth.

“Oh stars,” he groans, voice wrecked, “You gonna take all of me, sweet girl? Gonna let me fill you up?”

When you finally sink to the hilt, your resolve snaps. The pair of you moan out in unison, loud and high-pitched.

Anakin buries his face in your chest, and the heat of his mouth against your breasts adds to the tension coiling in your belly.

“Don’t – don’t move,” he grunts, and you shake your head, “I won’t – I’ll come on your cock if I do,” and you don’t mean to say it like that, don’t mean for the words to come out like that, but you feel Anakin pulse from inside of you, warm and hard and wet.

He manages to laugh.

“Tryna kill me,” he shakily breathes, shaking his head. His wet lips brush against your breasts, and you want more – want all that he can give you – so you clutch the back of his head, pulling him closer, hoping he gets the message.

His wet kisses make your skin prickle.

You’re full up. Can feel him stretching you out, this feeling something that’s only happened a few times before.

“If you move,” Anakin begins, out of breath, “I’ll leave the Jedi order and spend my days inside of you.”

“Don’t t-tempt me.”

He laughs, and you accidentally clench around him, causing him to groan deep and long against your tits.

“If you do that again, I’ll come inside of you.”

You imagine it. Imagine him spilling out, the wet white of it dripping out of your cunt and back onto his cock, and the mere image of it has your clit throbbing.

Keep still. Don’t move.

But he wraps his tongue around your nipple and begins to suck.

You cry out, and all of your muscles tighten, forcing you to clench tight around his cock. Anakin jolts and whines your name against your tits.

“S’your fault,” you mewl, moaning. You hang your head back, “Stars, Anakin.”

“Try and stay still,” he mumbles, and you stutter a laugh, “Impossible.”

“It can’t be,” he responds, and while he speaks in jest, his words are sincere. The line between love and lust runs thin, and if Anakin is being honest with himself, it’s close to snapping.