#about to eat someone alive for real!
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rosysins · 1 year ago
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OOC. i was in the middle of trying to gather info on blade so i could build a muse page but literally theres next to nothing??? like the lore for him hasn't dropped yet so im just sitting here wondering,,, what to do 😭😭
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miserye · 2 months ago
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i'm not gonan do it i'm not gonna do it i'm not gonna fo it i'm not gonna do it
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tarmac-rat · 1 year ago
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Absolutely bonkers that we're now living in a world where people are holding up Cyberpunk 2077 to other video games and CYBERPUNK is the positive one in the comparison. (x)
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luna-azzurra · 4 months ago
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12 Emotional Wounds in Fiction Storys
Betraying a Loved One. Your character made a choice, and it backfired, badly. They betrayed someone close to them, maybe on purpose, maybe by accident. Now, the guilt’s eating them alive. They might try to fix things, but can they even make up for what they did?
Guilt Over a Past Mistake. They made a mistake, one that cost someone else. Maybe it was reckless, maybe it was a dumb decision, but now it haunts them. They can’t stop thinking about it, and no matter how hard they try to make things right, the past keeps pulling them back.
Survivor’s Guilt. Imagine surviving something awful, an accident, a disaster, but someone else didn’t make it. Now your character is stuck asking, “Why me? Why am I still here?” They push people away, convinced they don’t deserve to be happy or even alive.
Feeling Powerless. Your character is trapped, maybe in an abusive home, a toxic relationship, or just in life itself. They feel stuck, with no control over their own future.
Being Wrongly Accused. They didn’t do it. But no one believes them. Your character has been falsely accused of something serious, maybe even a crime and now they’re fighting to clear their name. It’s not just about proving their innocence, though. They’re also battling the pain of being abandoned by people who were supposed to stand by them.
Public Humiliation. They’ve just been humiliated in front of everyone, maybe it’s a video gone viral, or they were betrayed by someone they trusted. Now, they can’t even look people in the eye.
Living in Someone’s Shadow. No matter what they do, it’s never enough. Someone else, a sibling, a friend, a partner, always shines brighter. They feel stuck in that person’s shadow, invisible and overlooked.
Abandoning a Dream. They had big dreams, but somewhere along the way, life got in the way, and now they’ve given up. Maybe it was because of fear or circumstances beyond their control, but the loss of that dream has left them feeling empty.
Childhood Trauma. Something happened to them when they were young, something painful that still affects them today. Whether it was abuse, neglect, or a significant loss, the trauma follows them into adulthood, shaping how they see themselves and the world.
Being an Outsider. They’ve never felt like they fit in, whether because of their background, their personality, or something else. They long for acceptance but fear they’ll never find it.
Struggling with Addiction. They’re caught in a destructive cycle, whether it’s with substances, behaviors, or even people. The shame and struggle to break free from addiction are real and raw.
Living with Chronic Illness. They’re living with a chronic illness or disability, and it’s not just the physical challenges that weigh them down, it’s the emotional toll, too. Maybe they feel isolated, or like they’re a burden to others.
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teaboot · 1 month ago
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Let me tell you how all "discourse" works when you run a big blog
See an innocuous post
Lease a comment you believe to be equally inoffensive
Receive 5 anonymous tips that the OP hates you
Find the least-offensive one, edit out the user's name, and make a post saying that you have received this message and it's okay
Receive 10 anonymous tips that the OP saw this and is receiving a massive influx of anon hate because your followers figured out who they were and leapt to your defense.
Make a public post reminding your followers to please not harass people
Receive 20 anonymous tips that OP is posting thinly-veiled vagueposts about you and how awful you are
Check if this is true
OP's blog is invisible because they blocked you
Shrug and go about your business
Sporadically receive incredibly graphic anonymous threats over the next three months from people defending OP against your horrific abuse, who you suspect have no relation to OP whatsoever
Scroll past 5-6 posts accusing you of eating puppies
Scroll past 2-3 posts describing you as a Death Note-level criminal mastermind skillfully manipulating the public into thinking you're a victim when obviously you've planned this all out from day 1 as part of your plot to destabilize a small foreign government and eat all their puppies
Scroll past 1-2 posts about how someone who has no sources once heard someone say that actually they think they heard you say that you want to skin puppies alive to sew fur coats for dictators
Never actually speak to OP, never see whatever it was they may have supposedly said, never hear of them again
4 months pass as the incident is forgotten
Return to step 1
BONUS ROUNDS:
Someone calls back to a previous incident in which the only details they can recall are accusations thrown one way or another by a third party, quoted as fact: IE, "Yeah remember when they ate all those puppies?"
Someone calls you a pedophile, like that's just a silly little word we can just throw around at each other with no consequences and not a real life crime of the worst kind
Death threat
Rape threat
"You did nothing wrong, OP is just a [horrific line of slurs]"
YOUR REWARD:
Valuable life experience
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fishyfishyfishtimes · 3 months ago
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Daily fish fact #6 444 205
Fish!
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The fish like to have a little drink :) Sadly as they drink the water around them they also drink their own pee, and that is the curse that they will have to live with for the rest of their life
#fish #fishfact #fish facts #fishblr #biology #zoology
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🪼 clovergonads follow
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Tasseled wobbegong women >>>>>>>>>>>
🐸 i-eat-skin follow
bitch those are goosefish
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🐚 seashell-on-the-seashore follow
Say what you want about fishblr updates, but I think this format for reblubs is a wonderful improvement over the previous one. One of the only times staff did good.
🐚 seashell-on-the-seashore
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@featherstar53 If reblub chains got too long, new reblubs would start appearing as darker and darker until you couldnt see the text anymore. It mimicked how light disappears as you go deeper in the ocean but the sunken code this webbedsite runs on never set a cap for how dark it gets, so eventually you would have to copy ad paste the text on the reblubs onto somewhere to read them.
🐍 swamplamprey follow
It sounds fake but it's true! You can still find some older fishblr post screenshots with this effect:
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This even went for full abyssal mode users! In their case, the text would slowly turn from white to dark blue, effectively making it impossible to read against the black background.
🦞 fastest-claw-in-the-west follow
I think it would be super funny if they brought this back but for individual posts. Like the reblubs stay the same colour but the posts themselves get gradually and gradually darker until you can't see them anymore lol. It would be disastrous but also funny and it might finally stop some of you frys from being so addicted to this webbedsite
#im all for a bit of chaos lol #treasure trove: talking tag
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🌿 invertlike-behaviour follow
Okay for the record. My eyes are Red because I'm a COMMON ROACH! RUTILUS RUTILUS! It's not because I smoke seaweed!
🌿 invertlike-behaviour
Okay Yes I smoke seaweed all day. But the specific reason my eyes are red is Not That
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🦈 spiritually-placoderm follow
🫧 surgeonsturgeon follow
OP you forgot brackish water and the option for inhabiting both
🦈 spiritually-placoderm
Shut your inferior ass mouth up
🫧 surgeonsturgeon
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#(i couldnt find the actual gif i wanted to use but this weird tiger shark will have to do) #(not sure why his fins look like that)
( 1,020 notes )
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☀️ slenderfish follow
"ocean sunfish have over 40 parasite species" factoid actualy just statistical error. average ocean sunfish is infected with only one or two parasites. Parasites Georg, the mola who suffers from every ailment known to fish and has over 1 000 000 000 parasite species infesting his flesh and organs, is an outlier adn should not have been counted
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🪷 trout-about-you follow
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Selfieeeee :3 (ignore the two sea lampreys attached to my flesh)
🪲 toebiter follow
how did you take the picture you aren't holding your phone
🪷 trout-about-you
The sea lamprey on the left took it for me
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🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated
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FISH USED TO MIGRATE THOUSANDS OF MILES TO BREED. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!!!!
IN MY DAY PUSSFISH LIKE THIS WOULD GET EATEN ALIVE BY REAL RIVER MONSTERS FOR BREAKFAST.
🐟 darting-action follow
these are Siamese fighting fish bruh.... They don't have migration as part of their life cycle lmao
🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated
OF COURSE THE YOUTH CAN'T PUNCTUATE THEIR SENTENCES PROPERLY. I SHOULDN'T EXPECT SO MUCH FROM THE SOFT FRY THEY ARE. ALWAYS GETTING RILED UP!
🔲 skip-hopper-deactivated
Ignore this guy, @darting-action. He's well known for saying offensive nonsense like this, I think he's bait and trying to get someone to bite.
🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated
YOU MUST BE ONE OF THOSE INBRED DOMESTIC SCUM OR HATCHED YESTERDAY SINCE YOU ENTIRELY LACK THICK SCALES. I SPEAK THE TRUTH AND ONLY THE TRUTH. IF YOU GET TRIGGERED THEN THAT'S NATURAL SELECTION, SON. YOU SHOULD FIGHT ME IN REAL LIFE.
🔲 walrus-tits-in-my-mouth-deactivated
You really dont know a thing about natural selection, do you? Bettas have flashy fins because they have to seem threatening to possible competitors. They don't migrate so they aren't built for that. They're built for living in ponds and marshes, low oxygen environments, and by cod, they are built for fighting territorial battles! You shouldn't underestimate a fish literally called fighting fish. They're very tough and hardy fish and can even send larger fish fleeing!
🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated
SIAMESE FLAILING PUSSFISH HAVE LADY FINS BECAUSE THEY'RE WEAK AND SOFT AND HAD HUMANS DECIDE WHO THEY BREED WITH FOR THEM. THEIR QUOTE UNQUOTE "FIGHTING PROWESS" SURE DIDN'T SAVE THEM FROM BEING PRISSY LITTLE PRINCESS FISHIES FOR LITTLE KIDS DID IT? THE INDUBIDABLE FACT IS THAT THEY'RE MUSKIE FOOD.
🔲 iknowthecrabbypattysecretformula-deactivated
Wait a minute... I recongize that picture on the right! That's from @betta-than-this 's OnlyFins! How did you get that picutre hmmm? Salmonidae? How on Ocean did you gain access huh?
🐠 betta-than-this follow
"Indubidable" is a pretty specific word to use. This you @salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated?
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🔲 iknowthecrabbypattysecretformula-deactivated
LMAOOOOOO GOTTEMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
🔲 aquarium-life-deactivated
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
🐟 darting-action
woag i never saw this entire chain before until it hit me on my dashboard. Why does this have so many notes
Thanks fishblr user walrus tits in my mouth for biology info i didn't know
🫖 burgle-the-turts follow
Woah woah woah we're just gonna ignore this guy using p*ssfish as an insult!!???? THE CATFISH SLUR????????? No one is going to bring this up!!!!!???????
🔲 tilapia11128-deactivated
does anyone in this thread smoke seaweed
🌊 herringageposts follow
date of origin: 28th of august, 2017
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🟧 sponsored
Suffering all alone, handsome?
No need to anymore.
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👄 pollywannacracker follow
Reblub with your favorite snack in the tags! I’ll go first: coral polyps! :}
🚬 shark-noir follow
@ninjalantern-999
#as for me #my fave is definitely my lower set of teeth when they shed #crumchy :D
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🩸 must-lunge follow
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STUPID HUMAN DROPPED ITS ELECTRONIC CAMERA IN THE LAKE!!!!!!!! NEVER GETTING THAT BACK BUB!!!!!! I'M TELLING ALL MY ISOPOD AND MUSSEL FRIENDS AND THEY'RE GONNA LIVE INSIDE IT!!!!!
🧑 official-human-posts follow
ofishal human post
#ofishal human post #this post contains humans
( 891 notes )
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🦦 hellofromtheotterslide follow
Wait, how come this site is called fishblr and not something like oceanblr or aquablr? Wouldn't that be more inclusive?
👑 goldielocks follow
I believe the name "fishblr" pays homage to the meaning of the word where just about everything in the water was considered a fish. It's why we have words like "shellfish", "whalefish", "jellyfish", "starfish".
Personally aquablr would work really well, too. There's a sizeable amphibious userbase on here.
🦐 worldwideshrimp follow
You forgot whale shark! Those arent fish either but are called fish
👑 goldielocks
....Whale sharks are fish. They are sharks. It's in the name.
🦎 eye-of-newt follow
But I thought it was a whale named after sharks? WHALE shark! Why else would they put whale up first?
👑 goldielocks
A whale named after a shark would be called a shark whale. You can take one look at a whale shark and see that, with its gills and fish tail, it is a shark.
⚪️ number1-seacucumber-ass-enjoyer-77 follow
Wait, then what about baby whales? Are those whales named after babies?
👑 goldielocks
If you're talking about the actual whale babies, then yeah. If you mean the mormyrids, small aquatic animals that can sense electricity, then no, those are fish. Sometimes names are inaccurate to what the animal really is.
🌌 themanta1234 follow
If you think about it, fishblr is also inclusive to aquatic tetrapods since they are lobe-fins, and therefore fish :D It's a term that can include everyone on here, the perfect catchall!
🦑 abyssal-gigantism follow
Ewwww fuck that definition. If mammals hear about them being fish on some sort of """"technicality"""" then this webbedsite is gonna get flooded with those self-important idiots! "OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOOOO LoOk At MeEeEeEeEEE i'M a MaMmAL!!11!!! I TAKE CARE of mah BAAABIEEEES!1111 I'm SUCH a good MAMAAA!!! All those OTHER STUPID HEARTLESS ANIMALS could NEVER do as I DO!!! I LOVE sweating into my BAABIEEEES' MOUTH1!1!1!111!!! I'm FLUFFY and AWSUM and ERRYBODDY LUUUVSSSSS MEE!!!!!!!!!!111!!!!!!! You should all LUV me TOO!!!!"
Is THAT how you want every fishblr post to look!!!!??????
🦛 drippohippo follow
😨
🪄 magicmanatee45 follow
DD:
🎼 humpbacked-musician-offishal follow
:'''((((
🐋 blainvilles-bitch follow
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🕶️ egg-laying-mammal-of-action follow
:///////////
🐢 greenXD follow
i think jellyfish shouldn't be classified as fish because they're clearly living spaghetti
🌜 foolish-idol follow
Great fucking post everyone. Hit the air bubblers
( 60,376 notes )
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🟩 ultrahyva-heihoi follow
Guys what the fuck kind of sponsors does fishblr have I just saw an ad for having parasites housed in me who are they advertising to 😭💀💀
#i swear the quality of this site keeps going down and down #if you see ads for parasites then report the shit out of em #fuck em my friend got early onset cataracts due to parasites
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😃 doweopenandcloseourmouthtoday follow
Yes! :) :O :) :O :) :O :) :O
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flwrkid14 · 1 month ago
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Take My Heart, Take My Name
Listen. Danny is a menace with affectionate nicknames, and Tim is so weak for it.
It starts small, a casual “hey, babe” here, a “thanks, darling” there. Tim thinks he’s fine at first—sure, his heart skips a beat, and yeah, maybe he has to take a moment to compose himself, but he tells himself it’s no big deal.
Except then Danny takes it up a notch, like he’s testing Tim’s self-control.
Honey. Danny calls Tim honey one night and Tim seriously thinks it's game over. He's done for. Finished. Danny could ask him to jump into a Lazarus Pit, and Tim would already be in mid-air. “Hey, honey, can you grab my jacket?” Yes. Yes, he can. He can grab Danny’s jacket, his wallet, his hand in marriage—whatever Danny wants.
And just when Tim thinks he’s adjusted to that, Danny has to go and casually destroy him again.
“Morning, Polaris,” Danny says, voice soft and warm, and Tim nearly drops his coffee mug. Polaris. His chest tightens at the word, at the meaning behind it. The North Star—the one constant in the sky, the guide through uncertainty. That’s how Danny sees him? It’s almost too much. Tim has to physically turn around and pretend to check his phone, hiding the way his face burns and his throat tightens with something dangerously close to tears. Danny doesn’t just say it like it’s some throwaway nickname; he says it like it’s a promise, like he’s quietly reminding Tim just how much he means to him.
But the real killer? The absolute fatality? It’s when Tim overhears Danny talking about him to someone else.
“Oh yeah, Tim’s amazing,” Danny says, casually. “My man’s the smartest guy I know.”
My man.
Tim’s entire world stops. He doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath until he exhales a few seconds later, completely dazed. My man. It’s not just that Danny’s saying it; it’s the way he says it. The pride in his voice, the casual possessiveness, the ease with which he claims Tim like that—like they’re already this unshakable thing. His. And Tim can’t believe it.
It doesn’t matter that they’ve been together for a while; hearing Danny claim him like that still makes him feel like he’s the luckiest person alive. Every time Danny says it, Tim can feel his heart racing, his head spinning.
And how could he not? He wants to give Danny everything. Every inch of himself, every breath, every dream, every fear. Tim wants to live his life wrapped in Danny’s laugh, stitched into the fabric of his love. If Danny wanted proof, Tim would carve his devotion into the stars themselves, would pluck out his own heart and place it in Danny’s hands as an offering. He’d give up anything, anyone, just to keep Danny smiling like that, to hear him say my man again.
Tim’s in a puddle, utterly lost in the warmth of it. His chest tightens, and he can’t stop the little smile that’s spreading across his face. My man. That’s his Danny. And God, if this is what it feels like to be loved by him, then Tim’s never going back.
And the thing is, Danny knows exactly what he’s doing. The way Tim lights up whenever he calls him something sweet? The soft little smile he tries to hide? Danny lives for it.
“Baby, are you okay?” Danny asks one day when Tim is just staring at him, dazed and lovestruck.
“Yeah,” Tim mumbles, his voice barely audible. “I just… like when you call me that.”
Danny grins, leaning closer. “What, baby?”
Tim nods, face bright red.
And from then on, it’s over. Tim is officially a nickname addict. Sweetheart, baby, honey, love—he eats it all up. It’s his lifeline. His kryptonite. And the best part? Danny never holds back.
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kurooh · 8 months ago
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HOW THEY ARE IN BED. [NSFW HCS]
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☆ includes: aged up! midoriya izuku, bakugō katsuki, todoroki shōtō, kirishima eijirou, kaminari denki, takami keigo.
☆ warnings: 18+ content, fem! reader, lots of nsfw
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— MIDORIYA IZUKU.
he’s a sweetheart in bed, and outside of it! he loves to call you ‘baby’, and very occasionally, during a slow and soft session, your name or something cheesy yet cute like ‘love dove’
however, he has an extreme breeding kink holy fuck. he will pump you full of cum and beg to stay inside you, just so it won’t drip out. he hasn’t told you yet, but deep inside him, there is a desire to be a father. anyways the idea of breeding you turns him on to the max
missionary + mating press are his favorite positions; both are intimate yet so sexy
as i’ve said before, he is very curious when it comes to trying new things. the second you say something like “zuku, could i try touching your ass?” or “could we experiment with ropes?” he immediately researches all there is to know about that topic, and then returns to you and says yes. there is nothing off limits to him.. see here (except for 3somes tbh)
he eats pussy like a man starved. he’s real sloppy about it too — he will come up from between your legs panting, sucking on his wet fingers, the whole lower half of his face wet completely
— BAKUGŌ KATSUKI.
ass man!! slaps your ass all the time, sometimes during doggy style, he’ll make some very small explosions in his hands and then spank your ass with it
wants to fuck your ass at least 3 times before he dies.
complains when you give him hickeys, but gives you WELTS. they always bruise so horribly it looks like something beyond love bites. if he was jealous over something, he’ll give you a few on your neck, but most often he goes for your belly/waist and thighs
fucks your face and throat during blowjobs. he loves the feeling of you gagging on and/or choking on his cock; by the end of it, your face is streaked with tears and covered in spit. lowkey sexy to think about him using your mouth to get off.. but he always makes you cum hard afterwards
he has no issue fucking you in front of someone else, especially when he’s jealous (usually he contains it but sometimes it eats him alive)
he buys you so many thongs and panties, and when you take them off for sex and they’re wet with your slick, he pockets them and wraps them around his cock to jerk off to you later
— TODOROKI SHŌTŌ.
he cannot contain himself when you take control. when his hands wander while you’re riding him, you’ll grab them and pin them down above his head, or at his sides. every single time, his face glows bright red, and he feels himself get closer
when your tits are out, he always asks if he can lay on them, or play with them. while you’re having sex, he will immediately start sucking on your nipples or pressing his face into your chest. probably has a secret lactation kink
he likes blindfolding you. sho has so many silk ties, and he lets you choose which one you like best, and then he puts it on you. when you’re blindfolded, he kisses every inch of your body, brushes his fingers along the softness of your inner thighs. when he finally makes it to your pussy, he’ll lap at your wetness like he’s in a desert. he lavishes your clit with the best attention, and when you cum, he keeps going. he has a standard for himself: you need to cum 2-3 times before he fucks you
for the longest time, sho thought that women could only cum if they squirted.. he’s fucked you through 4 orgasms, trying to get you to squirt. of course, he forgets about the cum you’ve already sprayed all over his chest, because he didn’t know those were squirts. same thing when eating you out — won’t move at all until you’re gushing. i could see him enjoying water sports tbh
— KIRISHIMA EIJIROU.
thighs man all the way. eiji is always wrapping your thighs around him, or making you cum hard enough for your thighs to choke him out when he’s eating your pussy. he really likes thigh riding, but it’s hard for him to be patient and let you cum from that without flipping you onto the bed and fucking you
red is his favorite color. he fucks you on your period
very quick to praise you in bed, and he gets shy when you do the same with him. unrelated but he really likes when you tug on or pull his hair. his scalp is definitely an erogenous zone
when you give him handjobs, he loses himself. if you’re not doing it already, he’ll start pulling his own hair; when you give him a hj be sure to suck on his nipples at the same time. eiji gets very loud and desperate. also, he’ll sometimes wrap his hand around yours, and move it faster in his cock. it’s not that it means you’re doing something wrong, he just enjoys the extra closeness and speed
— KAMINARI DENKI.
denki is quick to cum when he fucks you, unless you tell him beforehand you want him to last longer
he enjoys creampies, but prefers quickies with creampies, so his cum can drip out of you and into your underwear. honestly he has a huge cum fixation — he’ll cum inside you and eat you out, use his own cum as lube to keep going even though it makes him start to cry from overstimulation
he enjoys edging, giving/receiving. when you edge him with a handjob or blowjob, he begs you to let him cum, but then switches up when he’s about to, and begs to be edged more. if he’s edging you, he will show no mercy. you have to be crying if you want to cum
blowjob enthusiast! he is so eager to have your mouth on him, and is loud and whiny when it is. he loves when you deepthroat him, and pushes your head down almost every time or tries to fuck your mouth. when he fills up your mouth, he pulls you up and kisses you, moaning when he tastes himself on your tongue. also every time he cums, he gets super cuddly
“just the tip” guy 100%, then it turns into full on fucking, and you walk away with cum dripping out of your swollen pussy
— TAKAMI KEIGO.
he has a few erogenous spots on his wings, which must be touched with care and delicacy because he goes from 1 to 100 when they’re touched. if you tease him, he will push you down and fuck your brain out. sometimes, the right touch at the right moment will turn him into a begging mess
kei is a switch at heart. he’ll always tell you what to do, or do what you tell him. when you take control, he gets flustered but is very happy.
he LOVES face sitting so much. “but what if i hurt you?” “dying with my face in your pussy and you sitting on my face is my dream.” the second you agree, you find yourself slowly lowering yourself down onto his face, not even planning to sit all the way down when he grabs you and yanks you right down onto his tongue. and he’s so messy about it too. his slurping and quiet moans always make your face get hot.
istg deep down he’s always wanted to be a pornstar.. he enjoys filming videos of the both of you having sex, taking pictures of you with his cock in your mouth, etc etc. he really enjoys mirror sex as well. his wings always spread out a bit more when you’re both in front of a mirror
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flwrstqr · 25 days ago
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✧ BAD IDEA : WHEN THEY'RE YOUR HOT NERD BOYFRIEND ╰—— 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗒, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅, 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗂 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖻𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌?
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𝑜𝑓 · 𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⦂ loser bf!enhypen x f!r 1OOOwc. ── est relationship, skinship, petnames, enha being such losers TT 。。 ⠀fluff ✦ 𝓒ATALOGUE ♡ ◞
 DANi : i know i did loser bf enhypen hyung line before.. but i guess this is a remake of it ㅠㅠ
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𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 heeseung’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, headset slightly askew, eyes glued to his monitor as he furiously clicks his mouse. “babe, just one more round—promise,” he mumbles, though you know it’s a lie. his hair’s a mess, the strands you’d combed earlier now falling into his eyes, and he’s wearing that stupid hoodie he refuses to retire. he flinches when you plop into his lap, arms draped lazily around his shoulders. “i’m playing!” he protests, cheeks flushing as you press a kiss to his jawline. “you’re losing,” you tease, watching his avatar get obliterated on-screen. he groans, leaning back against you, headset falling off entirely. “this is sabotage, yn.” you grin, peppering his face with kisses until he’s a flustered mess, stammering something about focus. “i’ll stop... if you win,” you add, knowing full well he doesn’t stand a chance. he’s so helplessly cute, your hot loser boyfriend.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 jay leans against the kitchen counter, half-eating an apple and half-staring at you like you’re the only thing keeping him alive, and it’s so stupidly obvious he’s down bad. “you look tired,” he mumbles, eyes flickering to the dark circles under your eyes, but his ears turn pink when you catch him staring. “come here, idiot,” you say, tugging his hoodie sleeve to pull him closer. he obeys instantly, like the certified no-rizz loser boyfriend he is, dropping the apple to wrap his arms around your waist in an awkward position. you rest your forehead against his chest, his warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. “you smell like apples,” you mumble. “is that bad?” he asks softly, voice almost shy. “no,” you say, tilting your chin up, “but i like this better.” and then you kiss him, while his hands tighten on your waist like he can’t believe you’re real.
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 jake is sprawled across your couch, one sock half-off, looking entirely too attractive for someone who just tripped over your laundry basket five minutes ago. “hey, my sugar plum boo,” he says out of nowhere, grinning like he’s invented a new way to embarrass himself. you blink at him, halfway between horrified and amused. “your what?” he flinches, already regretting it but trying to play it cool. “sugar plum boo? thought I’d try something new.” you stare for a moment before bursting into laughter, and he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “okay, yeah, terrible idea. forget I said that.” but you’re already climbing into his lap, cupping his face, his ears burning red as you kiss the corner of his mouth. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” you tease. “just stick to ‘baby’ okay?” he nods, pulling you closer, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “noted, baby.”
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 sunghoon stands in your doorway, holding up a pair of matching t-shirts with the goofiest grin, like he just solved world peace. “ta-da! couple goals, right?” he says, clearly proud of himself. the shirts say something ridiculous like “she’s my waffle” and “he’s my syrup” and you just stand there, blinking. “hoon,” you start, already fighting a smile, “are you serious?” he fidgets, running a hand through his ridiculously perfect hair, and somehow he’s both a greek god and a total loser at the same time. “what? i thought it’d be cute…” he mumbles, looking down. you sigh, walking up to him, and his shoulders relax the second you slip your arms around his waist. “you’re unbelievable,” you murmur, tilting up to kiss him. his hands find your back, warm and steady. “so… no keychains, then?” he asks, trying not to smile, and you can’t help but laugh against his lips.
𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 sunoo’s hand is warm in yours as you walk through the mall, his lips pursed in concentration as he scans the signs. “baby, wait—wait, they have the new plushies!” he gasps, dragging you toward the toy store. people are staring again, because of course they are—he’s ridiculously pretty, and his blonde hair catches the light. you can’t help but smile at how oblivious he is to the attention, too busy squishing a stuffed bear against his cheek. “doesn’t this look like you?” he grins, holding it up, and you laugh, tugging him closer by the collar of his oversized sweater. “you’re cuter,” you murmur, and his ears turn red. “stop that,” he whines, but he leans in anyway when you kiss him softly, his hand shyly cupping your jaw. “you’re unfair,” he mumbles, pouting, but he doesn’t pull away.
𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 it’s 2 a.m., and jungwon’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, reading glasses perched on his nose, hair slightly messy from running his hands through it every time he gets excited. “did you know cats have a special purr that’s called a ‘solicitation purr’? it’s how they get humans to do what they want—it’s genius,” he’s been at this for over an hour, flipping through articles on his phone and gesturing dramatically. you’re curled up beside him, head resting on his shoulder, watching his lips move more than you’re actually listening, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “look, their whiskers even tell them how wide a space is—how cool is that?” he says, eyes sparkling. you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, cutting him off mid-sentence. “you’re cooler and cuter,” you whisper, and his face goes red as he mumbled, “stop—you’re distracting me,” but he doesn’t move away.
𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 riki sits across from you at the diner, wearing that ridiculous shirt that says “I paused my game to be here” like it’s peak humor, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the side of his hand. his hair’s all messy, and he keeps fidgeting with his fries, stacking them like tiny Jenga pieces. “stop staring,” he mumbles, his ears turning red, but he doesn’t look up, knowing full well you’re doing it to fluster him. “why would i stop looking at my baby?” you tease, leaning over the table just enough to poke his cheek. he freezes, then scowls (a weak attempt, really). “you’re insufferable.” but when you press a quick kiss to his jaw, he melts instantly, leaning into it like the softie he is. “i hate you,” he mutters again, but his hand finds yours under the table, lacing your fingers together, and it’s all too obvious he’s lying.
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shysuccubusstuff · 2 months ago
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Yandere! Mr. Crawling
Content: SFW hcs + Established relationship + Overprotection + Manipulation + Baby trapping + clingy! Mr. Crawling + Gaslighting + Somnophilia + Stalking + Death + Breeding kink + Slight size difference.
Summary: Human! Mr. Crawling who tries to keep his deep love secret from you
Note: I hope all of you are having a good day!! I'm trying to do my essays but they're so boring... Let me know if you have any suggestions/things you want to say to me, I love answering to people!!
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SFW:
Human! Mr. Crawling who falls in love as soon as he sees your face.
Human! Mr. Crawling who decides to try and keep you safe and protect you from all possible dangers. This ranges from leaving small gifts for you, buying you something to eat when he hears a rumble close to him, or buying you a drink if he has seen you working so hard on keeping up with all the classes, to sometimes intimidating the other guys that kept trying to get closer to you.
Human! Mr. Crawling who tries his hardest to speak to you, even if it's just a few words to make sure you know he's listening to you. Nodding his head and keeping his eyes completely focused on your face.
Human! Mr. Crawling who tries to make himself look smaller, crunching a bit and walking with his back a bit arched, not something that can be easily noticeable for others, but just enough to reduce the height difference between the two of you.
Human! Mr. Crawling who is finally able to make you feel safe with him, allowing him to get into your bedroom, even to the point of making a sleepover. He just had to try his hardest not to act in any weird manner.
Human! Mr. Crawling who keeps following you like a lost puppy. You can almost see two ears and a tail appear when he acts like a small puppy, being easily excited when you compliment him, even if it's for the smallest things.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who begins to feel how his pure love becomes something more twisted the moment he realises more people keep getitng interested in you. He looks so kind when you look at him, but as soon as you turn your head, his gaze becomes much darker, his expression is always serious, his brows slightly furrowed as he tries to keep himself restrained.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who takes advantage of you great "friendship" and starts to try and get rid of your friends. He keeps on interrupting when you meet with your other friends, creating different reasons why he just couldn't wait to meet you, as he truly needed you.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who takes advantage of his sickly aspect to make you worry about him, calling you to ask you for small gestures, making sure that they are small enough to avoid you from refusing him.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who is finally able to ask you out. He made sure to get rid of each and all your friends who could get in the way of your relationships, after all, he is everything you need, right?
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NSFW:
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who had already seen you way before both of you met each other in class, his phone filled to the brim with pictures of you. The fact that most of them involve you in embarrasing positions while the rest are of your sleeping face. They definitely have no effect on him, hell no (just ignore the raging bulge he gets from seeing your lips slightly parted, totally normal reaction).
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who put a small chip on your phone while you were sleeping. How was he supposed to keep you safe if he didn't know where you were the whole day? Don't be so dramatic, he was just doing it for your sake :((
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who killed someone in front of you. He was stalking you around town when he saw that strange man grabbing you by your wrist and taking you to the closest dark alley. Before he could think, his hands were already gripping his throat, his face turning blue as his grasp got even stronger. When he finally was sure that man was no longer alive, he turned around, a happy smile on his lips as he waited for your compliments. He was now on his real height, allowing you to notice how he was over one head and a half taller than you, despite that, he made you pet his hair, forcing you to smile as the body of the strange man got colder.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling whose obsession only increases the moment the two of you decide to date. His arms are now always around your waist, his hands always touching you, no matter if you are alone or in front of other people. He just loves hugging you from behind, his dick rubbing against your ass, grinding against you as soon as he saw you do something he didn't like.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who forces his cock inside you, filling you load after load just to prove that you're truly his one and only. He doesn't stop until he sees his seed dripping from your hole, your eyes rolling to your skull with fat tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who keeps blabbering about impregnating you during sex, he doesn't even care about your gender, he WILL impregnate you. He will defy Mother Nature for you, filling you one after the other and not pulling out until the next morning.
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who masturbates with your clothes the moment he misses you, he doesn't care if you have been away for barely a few hours, he just misses his sweet darling so much :(( Not his fault that your clothes are filled with your sweet scent...
Yandere! Mr. Crawling who masturbates to your sleeping face while the both of you sleep together. He loves feeling you close to him, all relaxed as your expressions sometimes change to one of pure bliss... He hugs you from behind, beginning to grind against your ass as an attempt to keep himself in check. This of course doesn't work, which forces him to use his own hand to masturbate, slowly getting on top of you so he can get an extremely detailed view of your sleeping face.
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iniquitousyearning · 1 month ago
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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS
dec 10th. tom riddle — oral sex, experienced!tom.
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RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024
summary: your ex couldn’t make you orgasm, so you were certain you were broken. tom shows you just how wrong you are.
warnings: 18+, SMUTTT MDNI, tom riddle can eat me aliv—sorry who tf said that?, tom riddle is such a realist; he sees a problem and he finds a solution, tom is a munch, praise kink, oral f!receiving, experienced tom, hufflepuff!reader.
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Months pass, and your project remains the only thing Tom ever prioritizes when it's you asking.
Progress is slow—slow because you're usually far too busy talking to actually focus—yet, he always stays. He listens, even when the things you say should bore him, even when they mean nothing at all. He sits there—giving you hardly the barest scraps of himself in return as you fill the space between you with everything that crosses your mind.
Things he'd never waste a second hearing from anyone else.
And tonight, to no-one's surprise, you're doing it again—rambling on about nothing and everything all at once. You've got this way of talking—weaving tangents into something almost poetic, and usually, he lets it fade into the background as he works. You're saying something about the differences between the seasons, or maybe it's just some other kind of sentimental nonsense—at this point, he's not entirely sure.
It's easy to tune out. He tells himself he's not really listening.
Until—
"Actually, I guess I should clarify that—it's all hypothetical. I don't date," he doesn't know what you said before this, but he's certainly intrigued by it now. "And really, it has nothing to do with like, self esteem or anything, I'm just broken. Best to save someone the trouble."
That stops him cold. It's not so much the declaration that you don't date—he could have guessed that himself—but more so the way you've just called yourself broken.
It's not a word he's ever heard you use before.
"What do you mean, broken?" He asks, the question coming out far more blunt than he probably intended.
It just seems so out of character for you—you've always been an optimist, far too annoyingly positive to speak of anything this way. He blinks when you freeze, and blinks again when a moment of self consciousness seems to pass over your face—and he notes how that's a first for you, too.
"Broken...as in, uh, not normal," your eyes flit down to your lap, tracing the wood beneath where you're seated on the floor in his dorm. "My ex made that very clear in his assessment of me."
The mention of an ex is something he'd been anticipating—you're in your twenties, after all—but it's the idea that your ex is the source of you calling yourself broken, that he can't quite swallow.
"You're 'broken' because of one ex?" He says, and he can't stop how derisive and skeptical his voice sounds. He doesn't care to try. "I'm not following."
"I'm what you'd call, damaged goods, I think," you murmur, and there's an almost self-deprecating smirk on your face. He can't help but think how he's never seen that look on you, either. "I've got a slew of unhealthy baggage that comes along with me. You know, childhood traumas, abandonment issues, daddy issues—"
He snorts at that—daddy issues—and your head snaps up, smirk deepening despite yourself.
"Don't snort at my daddy issues," you huff, and there's a familiar annoyance in your voice that puts him at ease. "They're valid and real."
"I'm not denying their validity," he counters, his own smirk beginning to surface. "But daddy issues? Come on. You're not some tired cliché ripped out of a teenage romance novel. I refuse to accept your declaration of brokenness until you give me factual reasoning."
You laugh at that—alive and genuine—and for a moment, he's reminded of why he even tolerates you in his space at all.
"Fine," you cross your arms over your chest. "What do you want to know then?"
He makes a low, contemplative sound at that—because there's a million questions that come to mind with the words damaged goods—and after a moment, he settles on the one that falls out first.
"What is it, precisely, that makes you broken?"
You sigh, a bit theatrically—he knows you're just putting on a show and he wants to laugh at you for it—but he reigns that in, for now, while you figure out how you're going to respond to that.
The truth is, you don't know how to tell him the real reason you're broken—the part that has nothing to do with the laundry list of emotional baggage you could rattle off with ease. It's something...different.
Something more physical.
"I don't know, okay?" You're getting defensive. You're not sure why but you are. "Just—forget I said anything. We have this assignment to—"
"You dodging the question tells me it's more than just psychological," he cuts you off, leaning back into the couch. The way he's looking at you makes it clear—there's no way he's letting this go. "You getting defensive tells me you're embarrassed by it."
You sigh again, leaning back on your palms to mirror his body language, though it doesn't feel half as natural on you as it does on him.
"And you, being an insufferable arse, is telling me I never should have mentioned it in the first place."
His smirk at that makes you want to glare at him.
"Stop dodging," he says. "You brought it up. You don't get to take it back."
It's a challenge—the gleam in his eyes is practically screaming so. You're not sure why the sight of it makes something low in your stomach clench, and you're even less sure of why you want to tell him something like this—something you haven't told anyone else—not friends, certainly not family.
Whatever the reasoning, you can feel yourself relent.
"Maybe," you pause, the look on his face makes you second guess yourself. "...maybe I don't want to tell you because I'm afraid you'll look at me differently." You glance down at your lap, fingers twitching against the yellow pleats of your skirt before finally meeting his eyes again. "And I kind of like the way you look at me now."
Something like curiosity passes over his expression at that—but it's quickly hidden by the type of skepticism that tells you he still doesn't believe you're being serious.
"You're overthinking it," he replies, unmoving. "Whatever it is you think you're going to tell me, I'm not going to look at you differently. You're still you—no filter, unabashedly verbal—"
"Too verbal. Too positive, too loud," you finish his sentence for him—because you know that's how he thinks of you. "Too annoyingly optimistic. Far too hufflepuff for your cold snake skin. I know."
"Exactly," he says, tongue running over his bottom lip in attempt to quell his smirk. "So I reiterate. There's nothing you could tell me that would change that."
"Fine," you relent, giving in begrudgingly because you know there's no other option. "But don't say I didn't warn you."
He just lifts a hand at that, as if to say; whatever you think it is, I can handle it. The action makes you suck a breath into your lungs, trapping it there.
"You're right," you say after a long exhale. "I have a slew of psychological bullshit that would take the span of a year for me to fully go over in one sitting—but, I'm fine with it. That's...that's not the thing that made me call myself broken."
He says nothing, just makes a motion with his eyes for you to keep going.
"It's, uhm...physical." You whisper, and your brain is moving too much and too fast and you're not even completely sure how to say it without sounding insane. "And...I don't know, I just...I can't orgasm. No matter what. I just can't—it's frustrating and embarrassing and it's the reason my ex ended things."
There's a silence that follows, and he knows if it were anyone else, they'd probably find a way to comfort you. Reassure you. Tom, however, isn't anyone else—
"You're joking," he says, and his tone is incredulous again.
A self-depreciating laugh leaves your lips involuntarily, the sound of it making you almost want to cringe.
"Would it be less embarrassing if I was?"
He's still just watching you, dissecting your words as if waiting for you to crack a smile and confess this was all some stupid joke—and the vulnerability of it aches like a stab to the gut.
"This is the reason you think you're broken?" Is what he goes with when he finally realizes you're being serious. "Because you haven’t orgasmed?"
The bluntness of it makes you flush, makes you wish you could sink into the floor. "I know it's not normal, okay—"
"It's not an abnormality, either," he asserts, with casualty. "You might just have a disconnect."
You blink, caught off guard—not just by his choice of words, but by how matter-of-fact he sounds, like this isn't the mortifying confession it feels like.
"A disconnect?"
"A disconnect," he repeats, looking you over, something clinical slipping into his eyes. "Between mind and body. And considering how loud your thoughts are—"
"Hey—" you snap, suddenly feeling a bit indignant, but he just continues on.
"—it's not surprising that you can't get out of your own head."
You open your mouth to argue, to tell him he's not a therapist, so what the hell does he know? But the certainty in his expression makes you pause. He doesn't look patronizing or condescending, just...assured. Like he knows exactly what he's talking about.
You hesitate, lips parting, a protest forming on your tongue. Before you can say anything, though, he raises a hand to stop you.
"Come here," he says, standing up from the couch.
You blink, trying to decipher what the hell he's implying—because if anything, the last thing that's going to make you less paranoid about intimacy is proximity.
"What?"
He just looks at you, making a motion with two fingers, beckoning you to stand.
"Don't ask questions. Just come here."
It's an order, and it makes your spine tingle in a way that's definitely not comfortable—but you get up from the floor, and move closer to him anyway, closing the distance between you with only a few steps until you're close enough to him that you can practically feel the heat that seems to come off him in waves.
It's weird—he's suddenly too much all at once—you're so much more aware of him being in front of you than you think you've ever been before and it does not help that he's just looking at you—as if studying you—blinking only once as he raises those same two fingers to your neck, resting them against the pulse point at your throat.
Your entire body tenses. His touch is far more gentle than you ever imagined it being, something disarming that makes your pulse beat faster against his fingers as a result—and because this is Tom, with all his smug and certainty—he gives you a look that tells you he can feel it before he slides his fingers up to rest on your forehead.
You scowl at the motion, but he clicks his tongue, the sound as condescending as it is amused.
"I told you, you're an overthinker." He murmurs, eyes dipping to your lips. "Too much noise."
You want to refute that—mostly because you're not overthinking, you can't be—he's just so unequivocally overwhelming—
"I'm not—"
You start, but he moves his fingers from your forehead and places them against your lips—
"Quiet." He scolds, and that makes something low in your stomach clench. "Your body knows what to do. You're just letting your thoughts get in the way."
You long to protest again, just for the sake of defiance—but then his fingers are against your collarbone, and that motion in your stomach becomes a bit more of a squirm—
"Your body is trying to tell you something," he whispers, watching each little hitch in your breath. "But you're too busy talking over it to hear what it's saying."
You realize—with a sort of horror that's laced with something a little more uncomfortable—that he's right. Your body is trying to say something. It's communicating through the unsteady force of your breaths, through the clench of your fists against your skirt—
Of course, he notices. He's noticing far too much.
"Relax," he murmurs, and now he's trailing those same two fingers in an unhurried path down your shoulder. You suddenly regret every decision that led to you wearing a T-shirt. "I'm not going to bite you."
Something about the way he says it makes you wish he wasn't quite so convincing—the familiar banter you long for gone with the sharp exhale that comes out of your mouth as his fingers encircle your wrist—
"Your pulse is racing," he says casually, far too casually for how much effort it's taking you not to scream. "Does that seem broken to you?"
Gods—you want to respond—you really, really do— but your thoughts flatline when you realize his touch has shifted. He's no longer just holding your wrist; he's guiding your hands to rest against his chest, and—
"There you go," he whispers, and the tone of it tells you he knows exactly what it is he's doing to you. "See? Your body's doing exactly what it's meant to do. You—" his fingers trail up your arms, and his voice gets lower. "—are not broken."
You swallow hard, acutely aware of your hands on his chest and the way your palms are clammy against the fabric of his shirt. He's shifting you now, deliberately crowding you, and it's only when you feel the edge of the couch press against the back of your calves that you realize—perhaps a second too late—exactly what it is he's doing.
You stumble back onto the leather, and he follows—crushing his lips to yours.
You gasp, startled, because despite everything you truly hadn't seen this coming. The kiss is messy, clumsy, and his hand finds the nape of your neck, tugging at your hair with just enough force to make it sting. And inevitably, when you gasp again, he takes it as an invitation to work his tongue into your mouth, other hand slipping under your shirt—trailing up your stomach.
You're trembling now, and he makes a low sound at the realization. Your brain is racing to catch up, and the irony of this isn't lost on you—he'd just claimed you weren't broken, but he might as well be destroying you himself.
He parts from your lips only to trail his own across your jaw—
"You're shaking," he murmurs with a smirk against your throat—as if he's taking immense pleasure in the fact—you hate how smug it makes him sound. "Do you want me to stop?"
You want to tell him he's being a bastard, but then his lips press to that spot on your neck—the one that makes your breath hitch and your pulse stutter—and you find yourself whimpering at the sensation.
"No," you breathe, and you'd be embarrassed by the pleading tone in your voice if you weren't so lost in the moment. "Don't stop."
He makes another low, satisfied noise at that.
"Good," he whispers. "No thinking. Just feel."
You swallow—throat dry. It's unfair how easily he's dismantling you with nothing but his mouth and hands. Unfair how he's leaving you breathless and unraveling while somehow making you feel seen in a way you can't explain, even with your eyes shut.
"Tom," you find yourself whimpering, and you aren't even sure what you're asking for—you just know you want more as his lips trail lower—as his fingers work to tug down your skirt. "Gods."
"Shh. Feel me," he murmurs, almost possessively, his lips brushing lower, grazing over your stomach, then your pelvis. "Let your body do the talking."
You've got your hands tangled in his hair before you even know what you're doing, and you hate the fact that you're pretty sure you'd melt into a puddle if he weren't holding you together.
"I feel you," you whimper as he kisses lower. "You're all I feel."
He makes another low sound at that, and you just know it's the response of ‘yeah, that’s right’—but then he's between your legs, panties shifted out of the way, and the first sweep of his tongue against your clit makes all coherent thought shift to static.
"Oh! God," you gasp, the word barely escaping before dissolving into a whimper when he does something with his tongue that makes your vision blur. "Tom—oh, fuck."
He just makes that smug, satisfied noise against you again before his tongue swirls over your clit and you find yourself almost cursing whatever deity made him so good at this, because it's not fair how quickly he reduced you to a whimpering, shaking mess beneath him and—
"Don't stop," you find yourself babbling, digging your nails into his scalp and knowing you look like a goddamn wreck as he makes a meal out of you—tongue lapping up your slick and swirling your clit before sealing his lips around it and forcing your back off the leather beneath it. "Please, don't stop, please—"
It's all you can manage to say. Your thighs are shaking now, and you're sure he's got you dripping all over his face with how soaked you are. He knows you're falling apart and he just keeps going— your brain ceasing function in favour of just focusing on how fucking close you are—how close you are to something you've never felt before in your life—and you're not even sure what you're begging for anymore but it's incoherent and loud—
"I need—" you whimper, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan against you. You don't know what you're asking for, but you know he has it. "I need—I need—“
"Let go," he murmurs against you, the roughness in it vibrating up into your belly. "I dare you."
There's still a little bit of you functioning on autopilot, just enough to tell you that when he murmurs those words—vibrations rattling up your cunt and into your chest—you're completely done for.
It’s merely a few seconds later that your high reaches its peak and he just keeps lapping as you shake apart beneath him with an intensity you've never felt before in your life—orgasm shredding you apart at the seams. Your thighs clamp around his face, your eyes squeezed shut, ears ringing so loud you barely register his low, muttered praises: "good girl," "so good," "there you go."
You’re fairly positive your legs will never be able to support you again when you finally come back down, feeling entirely like jelly as he pulls back, tongue flicking over his lips to clean off whatever's left of you.
And without thinking, you grab him and pull him up, crashing your lips against his in a messy, desperate kiss. He tastes like you, like him, like something you can't quite describe—and it makes everything feel intense and unbearably real all at once.
He gives you a moment, as if letting you recover, just languidly kissing you back—and you have to be honest with yourself and admit that this kind of makes you want to scream.
"A disconnect," he smirks against your mouth, the tone still smug. You manage a weak smack to his shoulder, though it does nothing to wipe the satisfaction off his face. "Still sure you're broken?"
You hate that he's right. Hate that he's managed to pull a reaction from you that you didn't think was possible. But as you sit there, shaky and spent, you know you can't deny the truth: no, you're not broken.
"Not broken." You whisper back. "You will be though, if you don't stop smirking at me like that."
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wonsiwon · 18 days ago
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party’s over, pack your stuff | l.hs
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sinopsis | when heeseung returns from a party, he’s met with the shocking sight of his furious girlfriend tossing his belongings out the window and locking him out of the house. caught in the middle of a heated argument, the two find themselves pushing each other’s buttons, testing patience and limits as frustration and love clash in a chaotic standoff.
genre | stablished relationships?, fluff, angst, comedy
paring | bf! heeseung x fem!reader
you and heeseung had been together for two years, and while there were plenty of good moments, the bad ones seemed to creep in more often lately. the fights were becoming a regular thing, especially on the afternoons after he came back from parties. he’d spend hours at a friend’s place, leaving you at home, overthinking and imagining the worst. he’d stopped inviting you to these big gatherings, and it was hard not to wonder if he was cheating. the thought of him with someone else, while you were lying awake trying to convince yourself it wasn’t true, was eating you alive.
then today, everything you feared felt real. you got pictures of him at a party, grinning at some blonde girl—the same grin that used to be just for you.
heeseung didn’t see himself as a cheater. in his mind, he was just being “nice,” brushing off the attention he got because of his looks. but that smile, the one he flashed at other girls, made you want to punch him in the face.
it was around 3:20 in the afternoon when heeseung pulled into the driveway, still half-drunk and barely focused on the road. all he could think about was crashing into bed—probably not with you since he already expected a fight. not that it mattered to him; you’d forgive him eventually. or so he thought.
he didn’t even get the chance to park properly when he spotted you through the window. without thinking, he jumped out of the car, his eyes scanning the scene. clothes were scattered all over the grass, and then, just as he stepped closer, a pair of jeans flew out the window, landing in a messy heap.
“what are you doing?” heeseung asked, his eyes flicking between the clothes scattered on the ground and your furious figure at the window. “are those my clothes?”
you didn’t bother answering. instead, you grabbed a shoe and hurled it at him, hitting him square in the head.
“baby, what the hell?” heeseung muttered, trying to dodge the rain of items falling from the window. he knelt down, quickly stuffing clothes into his arms, but it felt like no matter how much he picked up, more kept falling.
“grab your stuff and get out of here.” you said, and tossed a pair of jeans at him.
heeseung caught them mid-air and looked down. “are those my favorites?” he asked, still not fully understanding what was happening.
he then glanced around, noticing people from the neighborhood walking by and stopping to watch. he could feel the eyes on him, making the situation even more awkward.
heeseung was completely thrown off guard. he didn’t understand what was happening. it didn’t make sense to him.
“can you just—” he started, but the words got stuck. “what’s going on?” he looked up at you again, trying to find some clue in your expression, but you just stood there, arms crossed, staring at him coldly.
heeseung sighed heavily, running a hand through his messy hair as he stood there, surrounded by his stuff scattered all over the grass. his headache was getting worse, and your angry expression through the window wasn’t making it any better.
“y/n, can we just talk like adults?” he pleaded, trying to calm the situation down.
“adults?” you snapped, leaning out the window with a glare. “were you acting like an adult when you were grinning at that blonde all night?”
heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. his mind went back to the party last night, and after a few seconds, his eyes widened as it hit him what this was all about. “you’ve got it all wrong—”
“wrong?!” you interrupted, your voice trembling with anger. “what part of you smirking at her, leaning in all close, and god knows what else am i getting wrong?!”
“she was just talking to me! i wasn’t doing anything!” heeseung argued, waving his hands in a dismissive gesture. “you always overthink this stuff. it’s exhausting!”
“oh, i’m exhausting?!” you yelled, throwing a sweatshirt at him with force. “you know what’s exhausting, heeseung? sitting here, while the guy i’ve been with for two years goes around dipping his dick in any female that flashes him a smile!”
heeseung’s eyes widened, and he snapped back, his voice rising. “are you serious right now? i wasn’t fucking anyone, y/n! she was just talking to me! you’re blowing this way out of proportion!”
“talking?” you laughed bitterly, leaning further out the window. “heeseung, do you even hear yourself? do you think i’m stupid? you didn’t even bother inviting me to the party!”
heeseung threw his hands up in frustration. “y/n, it’s not what you think! i didn’t invite you because i knew you hate those parties!”
you clenched your fists at your sides, voice shaking with anger. “was it good, huh? was it good fucking that bitch while you had your actual girlfriend at home?”
heeseung’s eyes widened, completely caught off guard. “what the hell are you talking about?” he shot back, gripping the sneakers you threw at him. “i didn’t sleep with anyone!”
“stop lying!” you spat, leaning even further out the window, your anger boiling over.
“y/n..” he started, his voice getting more desperate. “you’re seriously out of your mind right now. i wasn’t doing anything! i didn’t touch her, i didn’t—”
“save it!” you interrupted, gripping the window frame to steady yourself.
heeseung dropped the pile of clothes back onto the grass and started walking toward the door, his face set with determination.
“don’t bother.” you said, a hint of satisfaction in your voice while holding up a shiny new set of keys. “i changed the handle.”
heeseung stopped in his tracks, looking at you, completely shocked. “why the fuck would you do that?” his eyes narrowing as he looked at the keys in your hand. his mind was still reeling from the argument, but now he was thrown off even more by what you just said.
you just smirked as you held up the keys. “you really thought you could just walk in here and keep doing whatever you want?”
heeseung’s jaw clenched, and he dragged his tongue across his cheek, clearly trying to keep his temper in check. both hands rested on his hips as he glared at you. “so, this is how it’s gonna be now? you’re locking me out like some stranger?” he was furious—this whole situation felt ridiculous to him. “you really think a locked door is gonna stop me?”
you rolled your eyes, leaning against the frame. “what are you gonna do, heeseung? break a window? crawl through the vents?”
he chuckled darkly. “did you change the back door too?”
your face went pale. you hadn’t. and even though you could’ve lied, you knew he wouldn’t buy it—your hesitation was clear. you watched his eyes flick to the side of the house, and then it clicked. before you could react, heeseung was already walking toward the edge of the house, that knowing smirk spreading across his face.
“gotcha.”
panic set in, and you pushed off the window frame, clutching the keys tightly in your hand. “this motherfucker..” you muttered under your breath.
heeseung took off running toward the backyard, vaulting over the fence with ease. panicking, you bolted down the stairs, nearly tripping as you tried to beat him to the door.
you hated yourself for how dumb you’d been, but even more, you hated the fact that heeseung was actually pretty smart. too smart. and the worst part? he wasn’t wrong. as much as you wanted to blame him for being insufferable, you couldn’t deny it was your own slip-up that handed him the upper hand. again.
you cursed under your breath, skidding to a halt in front of the door just in time to see heeseung standing in the frame, his tall figure all over you. his smirk was insufferable as he leaned against the door, looking down at you with a cocky expression.
you gasped, turning on your heels and sprinting back toward the stairs. “i hate you!” you shouted as heeseung darted after you, his long strides closing the distance quickly.
“i know you don’t, princess!” he called out, laughing as he chased you up the stairs.
your heart raced as you reached the top, your mind scrambling for a plan. heeseung wasn’t about to let this go, and you weren’t ready to give in just yet. you slammed the door of the bedroom, hoping to lock it before heeseung reached you. but just as it was about to close, his foot wedged itself in the gap.
“leave me alone!” you yelled, your voice desperate as you pushed against the door with all your strength.
“not a chance.” heeseung growled, using his weight to push it open.
the door flew back, forcing you to stumble a few steps away. before you could react, heeseung grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but not painful.
“let me go!” you shouted, twisting and squirming in his hold, trying to free yourself.
“stop it, y/n!” he barked, his voice low and steady, though his breathing was heavy from the chase. “you’re acting like a kid.” heeseung’s grip tightened for a second, but he didn’t pull you back. his gaze softened just a little, and his voice dropped. “baby, stop. i’m just trying to talk.”
but you weren’t ready to listen. you were too angry. “i don’t care what you’re trying to do.” you snapped, pushing against his chest. “you don’t get to act like nothing’s wrong when you’re out there doing god knows what with other girls.”
heeseung couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, the tension in his body easing slightly. “i didn’t do anything, baby. it was just a stupid conversation—nothing more.”
“bullshit!” you yelled, shoving against him harder, but all it did was make him chuckle. “why are you laughing? you think this is funny?”
“i’m not..” he said, his smile only growing wider. “it’s just funny how you get like this, all grumpy.” he reached out and pinched your nose, a playful gesture that only made you more frustrated.
you swatted his hand away, glaring at him. “this isn’t funny, heeseung!” you snapped, your voice sharp with annoyance.
he raised his hands in mock surrender, still smirking. “okay, okay. i get it. but you’re overreacting, baby.” his tone was teasing, but there was an underlying seriousness in his eyes. “i’m not doing anything wrong.”
“you always say that,” you shot back, your anger flaring again. “how am i supposed to believe you?”
“listen, i don’t know who sent you that picture, but i swear, princess, i wasn’t flirting with her.” he stepped closer, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you can ask my friends.”
you scoffed, crossing your arms. “i don’t trust your friends.”
he raised an eyebrow, his tone calm but firm. “you trust jungwon though. he was there.”
the mention of jungwon made you pause for a moment. jungwon was the calm one in the group, always reliable, and someone you could count on when it came to keeping things straight. but the one you should really keep an eye on was no one but jake. he was the king of stirring up trouble, and you couldn’t count the number of times he’d egged heeseung on to do something stupid.
your silence gave heeseung an opening. he softened his voice, stepping closer, but still keeping a little distance to test the waters. “look, i get it. i screwed up, and yeah, maybe i should’ve kept my distance from her. but you know me, baby. you know me. i don’t care about anyone else.”
you rolled your eyes, though your resolve was faltering slightly. “you’re always sweet-talking your way out of this stuff, heeseung. it doesn’t change the fact that you were grinning at her like she was the most interesting person in the world.”
“sweet-talking?” he repeated, a playful smirk creeping back onto his face. “baby, i don’t need to sweet-talk. i’m just telling you the truth.”
heeseung took another step forward, and this time you didn’t move back. he reached for your hands, holding them gently in his. his thumbs brushed against your knuckles in slow, soothing circles.
“i don’t want to fight with you anymore..” he said softly, his voice steady and earnest. “you’re the one i come home to. you’re the one i care about. that’s not going to change because of some random girl at a party.”
you crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “i’ll forgive you… only if you stop going to these stupid parties. and definitely not hang out when jake’s around.”
heeseung nodded quickly, a look of relief washing over his face. “i promise, no more parties like that. and no more hanging around jake if it’s going to make you this upset.”
you felt his hands gently grip your waist, but you didn’t pull away. instead, you looked him in the eyes, studying his expression. “i mean it, heeseung. i don’t care how much fun you think you’re having. if i ever catch you doing something like that again—”
“you won’t.” he cut in and gave you a reassuring squeeze. “no more parties, no more drama, just us.”
you let out a small sigh, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “good. that’s what i need to hear.”
you let him pull you into a hug, though you kept your arms at your sides, still not fully giving in. he pressed his chin against the top of your head, his voice soft as he muttered, “thank you, baby. i’m glad we’re on the same page now.”
you stayed there for a moment, both of you just breathing, when suddenly he froze, his expression shifting. “wait—” he said, looking toward the window. “the clothes.”
you followed his gaze, realizing he was just now remembering the mess outside. before you could say anything, he groaned and buried his face in his hands. “god, the neighbors must think we’re insane.”
you crossed your arms, smirking. “well, we kinda are.”
heeseung turned back to you with a playful pout. “can’t believe i almost lost my future wife and my home in one day.”
your cheeks burned at his words, but you refused to let him off that easy. “future wife?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “who said i’d marry you after this?”
he grinned, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around you again. “you’ll forgive me.” he said confidently. “you love me too much.”
you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “you better start picking up those clothes before i change my mind.”
heeseung groaned dramatically, dropping his head onto your shoulder. “can’t we just leave them there? maybe the wind will blow them away or something.”
you pushed him off with a light shove, crossing your arms. “nice try. i’m not going to be the one explaining to the neighbour why your underwear is hanging from her tree.”
heeseung winced at the thought, rubbing the back of his neck. “fine, fine. but you’re helping me. you threw them out, after all.”
you raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “oh no, this is all on you, mister. think of it as your punishment.”
he sighed, giving you a mock glare before turning toward the stairs. “you’re cruel, y/n. absolutely ruthless.”
“and don’t forget it.” you shot back, following him downstairs to the front yard.
the scene outside was somehow even more chaotic than you remembered. a couple of kids from down the street were pointing and giggling as they passed by, and neighbour from next door was giving heeseung a very disapproving look from his porch.
“great.” heeseung muttered under his breath, bending down to pick up a pair of socks. “i’m the neighborhood clown now.”
you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched him gather his clothes, his tall frame awkwardly hunched as he tried to scoop up as much as he could at once. “well, you kind of earned it.” you teased, leaning against the fence.
heeseung straightened up, his arms full of crumpled t-shirts and jeans. “yeah, yeah. laugh it up. just wait until i get back inside.”
you tilted your head, smirking. “oh? and what are you going to do? throw all your clothes back out?”
he flashed you a grin, the kind that made your stomach flip despite everything. “nah. i’ll just make you fold all of them.”
you rolled your eyes, but a small smile crept onto your face. “dream on, heeseung.”
he chuckled, shaking his head as he bent down to grab the last of his things. as much as you wanted to stay mad at him, moments like this reminded you why you’d stuck around for two years. heeseung was frustrating, infuriating even, but he was also the guy who could make you laugh when you least expected it.
as he stood up, arms overflowing with clothes, he looked over at you with a sheepish smile. “uh, a little help?”
you sighed, walking over to take some of the load off his hands. “you’re lucky i don’t actually hate you.”
heeseung’s grin widened as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “and i’m lucky you’re still here.”
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solelifauna · 24 days ago
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With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 2)
Hi guys, I’m alive. I’ve just been sick and then found out that my dog’s cancer spread and the surgery costs $3,000 which is insane. Anyways, I’ve been working irl so I completely forgot about this account. Sorry pookies🤕🙏.
If anyone wants to know I’m still taking commissions, and if my price doesn’t work for you I’m sure I can lower it!! Honestly, I’ll write for whatever price I’m lowkey desperate.😭🙏
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The next morning, you wake up in panic, shit, you slept in. You rush out the manor forgoing breakfast, almost eating shit on the sidewalk in your rush. You hop onto your bike, pedaling as if death itself was chasing you, huffing and puffing. Thankfully you make it to school on time, if only just on time.
You fall into your seat just as the bell rings, letting the top half of your body crumple over the desk.
“Looks like somebody had a rough morning.” The familiar voice of one of your best friends.
“Fuck off Quinn.” You huff out tiredly.
“Fine, then I guess this extra black coffee I got at Gloria’s is going to waste then.” She said teasingly.
How is it that she always has impeccable intuition about these things?
You groaned sitting up, giving Quinn a tired look.
“Yikes, I was gonna make another smartass joke but you look like you’re about to keel over.” She said worriedly, handing over the extra coffee.
“Ha ha, yeah I feel like I'm about to keel over. Thanks for the coffee by the way.” You said dryly.
“Don’t sweat it girl, but–uh, what the hell happened.”
“Too much dude, too much. It's so much bullshit I don't even know where to start.”
“Im guessing its about–”
“Ding, ding, ding, you got it.”
“Shit��how bad? They’re not gonna… you know…” Quinn stutters off.
“Kill me? Eat me?” 
She nodded.
You massage your forehead, a headache forming between your eyebrows. “I'll be so for real right now, I don't even know.”
“Damn, I don't even know what to say to that.” Quinn grimaces.
“It’d be weird if you did.” You joked giving her a sardonic smile.“Well if they’re gonna kill me, I hope they do it before finals.”
“You’ve got issues (Y/n).”
“I’m aware.”
Just then the chatter in the class started to pipe down as your history teacher, Mr. Lechliter, made his way into the room. However, something wasn’t right; his usually neat hair was in disarray and you could smell that he was profusely sweating. He was nervous, which was completely out of character. Sure Mr. Lechliter was awkward at times but he was normally confident and loud around the class, something was going on. 
“Good morning, class,” Mr. Lechliter began, but his voice was shaky, not at all the usual booming tone he used to command the room. “I-uh, hope you’re all ready to jump into… um, well, history.” He swallowed hard, glancing around as if searching for something—or someone—outside the door.
You look at Quinn with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is happening right now?
“We, um, actually have two guests who’ll be auditing a couple of classes today so we all want you guys on your best behavior. For our sakes and yours.” He said fidgeting with his paperweight globe, however, it was what he whispered under his breath that had you worried. What the fuck did he mean by that?!
“These guest speakers are one of the school's top sponsors so I truly cannot express the need we have for you all to behave and be on task, understand?” Mr. Lechliter spoke gravely.
The class let out a scattered “Yes” whilst others nodded. Now it was the class's turn to start getting nervous, the energy in the room now becoming quite grim. Seeing the class’s cooperation, Mr. Lechliter let out a shaky smile and nodded back at the class in approval. You sipped your coffee nervously in tandem.
“Good. Now, without further adieu, please welcome the esteemed Bruce Wayne and his son, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.”
And in walked your worst nightmare as you choked on your coffee. A hesitant applause began as a couple of heads turned your way, including the scrutinizing eyes of Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake.
“Jesus Christ (Y/n), are you good?” Quinn whispered, patting your back.
“Does it look like I'm good, Quinn?” You whisper-yell back.
“Sorry, dumb question.”
“I legitimately can't do this right now.” You groan out quietly.
Tim’s sharp, calculating gaze landed on you, and for a split second, his lips twitched upward in what looked disturbingly close to satisfaction. Bruce, however, kept his gaze steady, stoic, making his way to the front of the class like he owned every square inch of the room—and maybe, in a way, he did.
Bruce stepped forward, greeting Mr. Lechliter with a firm handshake before addressing the class. “Good morning,” he said, his voice carrying a smooth authority. “It’s always a pleasure to see the next generation of Gotham’s finest minds, and today, we’re here to discuss some unique opportunities with Wayne Enterprises—partnerships, scholarships, and mentorship programs that may be of interest to you in your future studies.”
Meanwhile, Tim’s gaze remained fixed on you, a silent warning lingering behind his polite smile. You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, hoping that blending in might somehow make you invisible. But Tim had no intention of letting you off the hook. He leaned slightly closer to Bruce, murmuring something that made Bruce’s eyes flicker in your direction, his expression unreadable.
Quinn leaned over, her voice barely a whisper. “(Y/n), what the hell is going on? They keep looking at you.”
“Trust me, I wish I knew,” you muttered back, managing to take a sip of coffee without choking this time. “They’re just here to make my life a living nightmare, apparently.”
As Bruce and Tim began their presentation, outlining all the “wonderful opportunities” that a connection to Wayne Enterprises could bring, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. Every line, every subtle glance, seemed like a reminder that escape from their influence was impossible. They were inescapable, even here, in the one place you thought you could breathe.
When they finally wrapped up their presentation, Bruce offered to answer questions, his gaze settling on you for the briefest moment, as if daring you to speak up. You just nervously looked away, its fine, they’ve said their piece and will be leaving soon.
But of course life doesn't ever go the way that you want.
The relief that had started to settle in evaporated as Bruce and Tim made no move to leave. Instead, they took seats at the back of the classroom, settling in with that same poised, assessing presence that dominated every room they entered. Bruce folded his hands in his lap, his gaze steady and inscrutable, while Tim casually crossed his arms, his eyes tracking every student’s reaction, but always coming back to you.
You swallowed hard, glancing at Quinn, who was now just as unsettled as you were. “Are they… staying?” she whispered, her brows knitting together in worry.
“Looks like it,” you muttered, barely moving your lips.
Mr. Lechliter, visibly tense under the weight of their scrutiny, resumed his lesson with all the grace of a man on the edge of a breakdown. Every time he stumbled over his words or glanced nervously at Bruce, the room felt as if it held its breath.
“This, um, particular era in history…” Mr. Lechliter began, stammering slightly as he struggled to keep his usual confident tone. “It’s a time when alliances shifted often, and there was…constant jockeying for power…”
Bruce and Tim watched, expressions neutral, but you knew better than to believe their act. They weren’t here for any genuine interest in educational standards; they were here as a reminder, a warning that the Wayne influence extended beyond the manor walls.
You focused on your notebook, pen tapping anxiously against the paper as you tried to tune them out and take frantic notes. But it was impossible to ignore the cold prickle at the back of your neck. Every glance felt like a needle, each second stretching longer than the last.
Mr. Lechliter’s lecture painstakingly continued on for another thirty minutes before class started coming to an end.
The bell finally rang as you shot up out of your seat and practically sprinted out the door. You head to your locker, feeling the many starters of students and teachers bore into you. Another thing was that everyone kinda knew that the Wayne’s didn't like you, it was very obvious. Which meant the media had a field day, letting the entirety of Gotham know how much the famous pack hated you. So now your business was also aired out to the entire world to know. Wonderful, am I right?
You shove your unneeded books into your (tbh, very cutely) decorated locker, while grabbing the science textbook you needed for your next class, AP Biology. This class was the absolute bane of your existence. Not only was the content hard, the teacher was also absolutely nuts. You walk over to your Bio class, clutching your books like a lifeline. “Please, dont be here too.” You pray to yourself. Thankfully, this class was normal, well, as normal as it could get. The other two classes you have before lunch ended the same way, Wayneless. 
As your fourth class comes to an end your stomach starts to growl. You’d be embarrassed, but everyone else in your class was in a similar starved state. When the lunch bell goes off, you’re excitedly grabbing your things and making your way down. Fucking finally it was lunchtime. You made your way to the quickly growing lunchline
Your friends were already sitting at your usual table as you made your way over and slammed your lunch tray on the table.
“Im gonna kill myself.”
“I can't even say anything about that.” One of your other friends Daniel says.
You groaned holding your head in your hands, your headache becoming more prevalent as you turn to look at him.
“Man all I did was ask to leave, and now this shit? I can't even right now.”
“You finally asked to leave, huh? I'm guessing it didn't go well.” Daniel asks.
“Nope, but when does anything ever go right in my life.”
Just as you finish talking, the noisy cafeteria falls abruptly silent. The usual clatter of trays and chatter of students fades, replaced by an almost eerie quiet. You and your friends exchange confused glances before turning to see what—or who—could possibly have silenced a room full of teenagers. But in the pit of your stomach, you already have an idea.
Sure enough, walking through the entrance are Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne, looking completely out of place in their immaculate suits and composed expressions. Their powerful, calculating gazes sweep across the crowd, searching for someone, before both of their eyes zero in on you and your table. Instinctively, you tense up, your shoulders hunching as if to make yourself smaller, and you feel the flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks under their scrutiny.
Their focused stares make you flinch, and you quickly look away, facing your friends once more. “See what I mean?” you mutter under your breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s like the universe is out to get me.”
Daniel raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the Waynes, a flicker of worry passing over his face. "What are they doing here? This isn’t normal, right?”
“No, it’s definitely not,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart races. “They’re here to make a point.”
You further slump into the table, arms cradling your head as the cafeteria slowly starts to go back to its normal noise level. Both Tim and Bruce take a seat at a table opposite to where you’re sitting, which gives them a perfect view of your table. Great.
“Guys talk to me. Anything–talk about anything please.” You beg quietly.
Quinn leans in, glancing nervously at the Waynes across the cafeteria. “Uh, did you hear about Chief Keef performing soon? Apparently, he’ll be in Gotham.”
Daniel nods, catching on to your plea for distraction. “Yeah, yeah, I heard he's gonna bring another artist on stage. Mauve Travis or something if we’re lucky?.”
You smile weakly, grateful for the distraction, even if your heart’s still pounding. You try to focus on what they’re saying, but you can feel Tim’s gaze on you like a laser, scrutinizing, watching every movement. You pretend not to notice, grabbing a fry from your tray and nodding along to whatever Daniel and Quinn are saying, forcing yourself to join in with a half-hearted laugh here and there.
Quinn suddenly brings up a story from her last weekend, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Okay, get this—I tried to impress this guy by pretending to know how to skate, but instead, I ended up flat on my face in front of, like, everyone. Mortifying, but he did buy me a smoothie as a consolation prize.”
You chuckle, letting the story pull you out of your anxious thoughts. “I mean, sounds like it kind of worked. You got a free smoothie, right?”
Quinn laughs, rolling her eyes. “Only because he felt bad, but hey, I’ll take pity smoothies.”
The laughter at your table grows, the lighthearted moment almost making you forget the ominous presence of Bruce and Tim nearby. But just as you’re starting to relax, you catch a glimpse of Tim’s amused smirk from the corner of your eye. His eyes don’t leave you, as if he knows exactly how unsettling his presence is and he’s reveling in it.
“I think he liked you,” Daniel teases Quinn, keeping the conversation going to help ease your nerves.
“Liked my bruised ego, maybe,” she snorts. “Anyway, what about you, (Y/n)? Got any secret admirers?”
You shake your head, grateful they’re keeping the focus off your current predicament. “Nope, unless you count the cadaver frog I accidentally dropped on my lab partner. He, uh-didn’t look at me the same after that.”
Your friends burst out laughing, and for a brief, blessed moment, you almost feel normal again. But when you glance back, Bruce’s eyes are still on you, cool and unyielding.
“Here’s to hoping they’re gone after lunch,” Daniel mutters, catching your uneasy glance.
“What good has hoping ever done me?” You sigh, picking at your food.
The tension in the cafeteria never fully fades. Despite the attempts from Quinn and Daniel to keep the conversation going, the presence of Bruce and Tim just continues to overwhelm you. Every so often, your eyes flit toward them, only to find them still seated, still watching, and their expressions betraying nothing of their true intent. It feels like they’re waiting for you to make a move, to react in some way that would justify their unsettling attention.
Lunch drags on in this uncomfortable limbo until, at last, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break. Your friends gather their things, offering small words of encouragement or supportive smiles, though they too look wary of the Waynes’ lingering presence.
“I’ll see you both in Chem. Hopefully Mr. Domzalski isn't still in a bad mood from what happened yesterday.” You say.
“You mean from when you and Daniel set fire to one of his textbooks?” Quinn questions sardonically.
You and Daniel offer her a sheepish, guilty smile. 
“Hey–it was an accident!” he exclaims, feigning offense.
“Yeah, what he said! We followed all the instructions to a T!” You defend as well.
“Sure, whatever you both say. I'm just surprised he didn't automatically fail you two.” Quinn says fondly.
“It’s ‘cause we’re somehow his favorites? Don't ask me how or why though.” You respond.
As you and Daniel chuckle, the lightheartedness helps lift some of the weight that had been hanging over your head. The relief is short-lived, though, as you feel a prickle on the back of your neck—a feeling that’s become all too familiar lately.
You glance back to see Bruce and Tim still watching, and for a moment, something in Bruce’s gaze changes. You can’t quite read it, but it feels sharper, like he’s calculating, considering something he hasn’t said. You swallow, gripping your bag tighter as your friends move to head toward class, unaware of the silent tension hanging around you like a cloud.
You head to your APA Algebra II class alone, without the usual buffer of Daniel or Quinn’s lighthearted banter to ease the tension. The classroom is quiet, a different atmosphere from the lively lunch period, and you’re able to slip into your seat undisturbed, hoping that the math problems ahead will give you a welcome distraction.
As the class moves on, you find yourself lost in equations, the numbers and formulas acting as a temporary refuge from everything else. You keep your head down, concentrating on the work, grateful for the momentary peace that academics bring.
When the bell rings, signaling the end of Math, you gather your things and head to APA Chemistry, where you’d finally reunite with Daniel and Quinn. When you arrive in APA Chemistry, the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed. Mr. Domzalski hasn’t arrived yet, so everyone’s just hanging out, chatting about weekend plans, or joking around. You plop down next to Daniel, who’s already doodling on his notebook, and give Quinn a tired smile. It’s nice to have a few minutes to unwind before the usual controlled chaos of Mr. Domzalski��s class kicks in.
Then, the door swings open, and you freeze as Mr. Domzalski steps in with Tim Drake following close behind. Your stomach twists, and you have to swallow down a groan. Thankfully, Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Small blessings, you suppose; better not to question it too much. You look at your friends, trying to convey your annoyance with a single tired look as Mr. Domzalski beams with a sort of overdone excitement that sets you on edge.
“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome a special guest,” he says, practically brimming with enthusiasm. “Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is here to observe our class today.”
You sink lower in your chair, stifling a grumble. Great, just great. This whole thing was growing stale fast. You try to ignore the interested murmurs spreading through the class as everyone stares at Tim, who stands there with that same polite, professional smile he’s been flashing all day. You avoid eye contact, focusing instead on the edge of your desk as Mr. Domzalski continues.
“Now,” Mr. Domzalski goes on, shifting his focus to the lab materials, “before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s review what went wrong in yesterday’s lab.”
He shoots a pointed look in your direction, his smile still in place, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not exactly thrilled. “For those who might need a reminder,” he continues, not-so-subtly side-eyeing you and Daniel, “improper handling of materials led to one of my textbooks, which I cherish dearly, being set on fire.”
The class erupts into quiet snickers, and Daniel coughs into his hand, trying to disguise his laughter. You roll your eyes, but a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. Even Tim’s eyes change a bit, as if interested.
Mr. Domzalski clears his throat, regaining the class’s attention. “Let’s aim for a little more caution today, shall we?”
The lab for the day was going to be more complex than usual. Mr. Domzalski, with a edge of nervousness in his tone, began rattling off the new, more complicated instructions. His gaze flicked to you and Daniel more than once, lingering just long enough to make his message clear: Please don’t mess up.
You slouched slightly in your seat, already feeling the weight of the unspoken pressure. It wasn’t lost on you how much was riding on this lab going smoothly—not just for your grade, but for Mr. Domzalski himself. With Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and a member of one of Gotham’s most powerful packs, observing, any mishap could very well put your teacher’s job on the line.
Next to you, Daniel caught your eye, his lips twitching into a wry smirk. He leaned in, whispering, “Feel like we’re walking on eggshells today, huh?”
“More like a minefield,” you muttered back, eyeing the lab equipment warily. The setup looked far more intricate than usual—beakers and flasks stacked alongside pipettes, Bunsen burners, and an array of unfamiliar chemicals. It was a recipe for disaster, and you had no intention of being the one to set it off.
Tim, seated at the back of the room, watched the proceedings with his usual cool detachment. His presence was like a weight pressing down on the room, amplifying every minor sound and movement. You could practically feel his gaze on you, even when you weren’t looking his way.
“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Domzalski said, clapping his hands to gather the class’s attention. “Remember to follow the instructions precisely as they’re written. This is a delicate experiment, and precision is key. Any deviation could—well, let’s just say we don’t want any surprises today.”
The pointed glance he sent your way at the word “surprises” made you cringe internally. You shot Daniel a look. He seemed to get the message, giving you a small nod before turning his focus to the materials in front of him.
With a deep breath, you adjusted your goggles and got to work, determined not to give anyone—especially Tim—a reason to criticize.
The lab was rough from the very start. No matter how tightly you adjusted your goggles, they kept fogging up, obscuring your vision at the worst possible moments. You constantly had to pause to wipe them off, and each time, you felt Tim's Gaze flicker towards you. Daniel, meanwhile, was no better. He almost tipped over a vial of some unpronounceable chemical twice, and each time, you barely managed to steady it before disaster struck.
“Bro you have to lock in.” you said under your breath.
“I'm trying–fuck. My hands are too shaky.” Daniel whispered back, nervous as he tried held out his hands for you to see. He carefully set the vial down, only for his elbow to nudge another piece of equipment. You caught it just in time, your heart leaping into your throat.
The instructions seemed to come at lightning speed, Mr. Domzalski rattling off steps faster than you could write them down. Each new instruction layered on top of the last until your head was spinning with measurements, temperatures, and reaction times. You were doing your best to keep up—you think you were doing it right—but the constant noise and movement around you made it feel like everything was closing in.
You glanced at the flask on your workstation, bubbling faintly as it was supposed to, and double-checked the temperature. It seemed fine. Probably fine. Hopefully fine. But the nagging thought that you might’ve missed a step wouldn’t go away.
Behind you, Tim’s silent observation was like a shadow, adding another layer of stress to the already chaotic atmosphere. Every time you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, you swore his expression was unreadable, yet somehow judgmental.
“I think this is right,” you muttered, glancing at the next step in the instructions and adjusting your setup.
“‘Think’ isn’t reassuring, (Y/n),” Daniel replied, he was nervous. “Don’t blow us up, okay?”
“Not funny,” you snapped, though your lips twitched in a half-smile despite the stress. “Just keep stirring before we mess up the timing.”
The rest of the lab dragged on in a haze of nervous energy and frantic adjustments. Your hands trembled slightly as you measured out the final chemical, careful not to let even a drop spill. When you finally completed the experiment, the mixture in the beaker turned the correct pale blue color, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.
“See?” Daniel said, flashing you a grin. “We nailed it.”
You gave him a tired look. “Barely.”
As Mr. Domzalski approached to check your work, you held your breath, praying there wasn’t some detail you’d overlooked. When he gave a curt nod of approval, you finally relaxed, though your nerves still felt frayed. Even then, you could feel Tim’s eyes on you, as if silently appraising every moment of your struggle.
The lab was over, but the stress lingered like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You packed up your materials with shaky hands, grateful to escape the pressure of both the experiment and the unrelenting scrutiny.
As the class wrapped up, Mr. Domzalski passed by your station, his sharp eyes flicking over the completed experiment. The pale blue liquid in the beaker must have been just right because, instead of his usual critical remarks, he gave a subtle nod and a quiet, “Good work.” The words weren’t overly enthusiastic, but coming from him—and especially with Tim Drake watching—it was as close to praise as you could get.
You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and you let out a long sigh of relief. You and Daniel exchanged a look, his triumphant grin mirrored by the faintest smile you allowed yourself. You’d passed. Somehow, despite the foggy goggles, Daniel’s near-disasters, and the relentless pressure, you’d made it through the lab unscathed.
As you finished cleaning up, Mr. Domzalski gave you a brief, silent glance of thanks. It wasn’t much, but you knew what it meant: he was grateful you hadn’t turned today’s experiment into another headline-worthy incident. You nodded subtly back, grateful that the ordeal was over.
With the last of your equipment put away, you grabbed your bag and escaped the lab as quickly as possible, the weight of Tim’s lingering gaze finally lifting as you stepped into the hallway. Quinn was waiting by the door, chatting with Daniel, who was still buzzing with post-lab adrenaline.
“Well, looks like you didn’t burn down the school,” Quinn teased, grinning as she fell into step with you.
“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. “We’re still alive, so I guess that’s a win.”
“Hey give us more credit.” Daniel chimed in, earning a laugh from both you and Quinn.
As the three of you headed for the stairs, you said goodbye to Daniel, who was heading to a different class. “See you later, guys.” he said, waving as he turned down another hallway.
You and Quinn made your way toward the gym for your seventh period, the final class of the day. The familiar chatter and clang of lockers greeted you as you stepped into the changing area. Gym wasn’t exactly your favorite class, but after the stress of the lab, it was almost a relief to have something physical to focus on instead of the constant mental strain.
“Think they’ll leave you alone for the day?” Quinn asked as you pulled on your gym shoes.
“I hope so,” you replied, your voice weary. “I can’t handle any more of this. It’s like they can’t even wait to-to…you know.”
Quinn grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” But she smiles back at you, as if tying to make you perk up. “Well, at least we’re doing dodgeball today, you should blow off some steam.”
You huff, amused. “Mm, maybe nailing Farah in the head with a dodgeball would do me some good.”
“Straight on bitch, that girl needs to be humbled.” Quinn says.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “At this point, I’ll take any excuse to hit something.”
The two of you stepped into the gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the buzz of students warming up filling the air. It wasn’t the easiest day, but at least the end was finally in sight.
The day finally winds down as you head to the locker rooms to change. The smell of sweat and disinfectant fills the air as you and the other students shuffle to your lockers, exchanging the occasional half-hearted quip about how much of a drill sergeant Coach Walker was today. You change quickly, eager to escape the lingering humidity of the gym, and sling your bag over your shoulder just as the dismissal bell rings.
Joining the tide of students heading toward the front exit, you fall into step with Quinn, chatting idly about homework and plans for the weekend. The sprawling line of cars in the pick-up area is already forming, parents eager to whisk their kids away from the chaos of the school day.
Daniel spots you both as he weaves through the crowd toward his mom’s car, parked conveniently near the front of the line. “Guess that’s my ride,” he calls, swatting your shoulder playfully. “Try not to miss me too much tomorrow, I've got a doc's appointment.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah, you wish asshole.”
“Later!” he shouts, hopping into the passenger seat of his mom’s car as it pulls away. You and Quinn wave after him before continuing toward the pick-up zone.
“Alfred here today?” Quinn asks, glancing around at the cars idling nearby.
“Probably not,” you reply with a shrug. “Haven’t heard from him, so it’s probably just me and the bike today.”
Quinn nods, her attention already shifting to a car pulling up in the distance. “Looks like my dad’s almost here.”
You glance toward the pickup area and spot the familiar vehicle inching closer. “Cool. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Yep. Don’t get mugged on the way home,” she jokes, smirking as she adjusts her backpack.
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you reply with a laugh. With a quick goodbye, you head toward the bike rack to unlock your trusty two-wheeler.
The quietness of the parking lot is a stark contrast to the noisy chaos of the day. You crouch down, fiddling with the combination lock on your bike, when a hulking shadow falls over you. The sudden shift in light is enough to make your instincts bristle, but you stay focused on the lock, rolling your eyes at the interruption.
“Bro, if you’re lookin’ to mug me,” you say without looking up, your tone flat and unamused, “you should know I’m skint broke. Try some other bitch.”
The air around you seems to thicken with tension, and you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze boring into you. It’s enough to make you pause mid-turn on the lock, your breath catching as a low, familiar voice responds.
“I sure hope you’re not talking to me?” Comes your father, Bruce’s, deep voice.
Your head snaps up, and your breath catches in your throat as you realize it’s not some wannabe punk standing over you.
You pale instantly, the color draining from your face as you meet his icy blue eyes. His expression is unreadable, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating. The sheer presence of him—imposing, cold, and unnervingly silent—makes your stomach churn with dread. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scramble for words, your brain tripping over itself in panic.
“Oh—uh, Mr. Wayne—I didn’t—I mean, I thought…” you stammer, trying to cobble together an explanation and an apology all at once. Your hands fumble with the lock on your bike, suddenly feeling clumsy under his scrutiny. “I—um—sorry! I thought—uh—someone else—”
He raises an eyebrow, the tiniest shift in his expression, but it’s enough to make you flinch. You straighten up, clutching your bike for dear life, feeling small and utterly exposed under his towering figure.
“I see,” he says finally, his voice calm but laced with that undercurrent of authority that makes it clear he’s not just seeing. He’s assessing.
“I didn’t realize it was you,” you blurt, trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity. “I thought it was, uh, someone else. Someone trying to—um—mug me?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you wince inwardly at how ridiculous it must sound.
Bruce’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you make a habit of mouthing off to strangers you assume are threats?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild.
“N-no, sir,” you stammer, shaking your head quickly. “I just—I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t thinking—”
He holds up a hand, cutting off your rambling. “Enough,” he says, “I’m here to pick you up. Alfred’s occupied.”
Your mouth opens, then closes, as you try to process his words. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Bruce might be the one picking you up today. Of course, the thought of him going out of his way to do so hadn’t even crossed your mind, it wasn’t like he ever went out of his way for you before.
“Oh,” you manage after an awkward pause. “Right. Thanks.”
You still have your conversation from the previous day in mind.
“Come on,” he says, turning without another word. “We’re leaving.”
You hastily shove your bike into the back of his sleek black car, your movements hurried and uncoordinated under the pressure of his presence. Sliding into the back seat, you notice Tim sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at you through the rear mirror. You avert your gaze, clasping your hands tightly in your lap, trying not to fidget as the engine purrs to life. The air inside the car is thick with silence, broken only by the occasional click of the turn signal as Bruce maneuvers through traffic.
You steal a glance at him, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Despite the tension knotting your stomach, you force yourself to speak. “I—uh, thanks for picking me up,” you mumble, staring out the window.
Bruce doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the road. When he finally speaks, his tone is even but firm. “We’ll talk when we get home.”
Your throat tightens when you see Tim's glee filled smile, as if a cat had just caught a canary. You nod mutely, knowing there’s no point in arguing. Whatever he has to say, it’s not going to be pleasant.
[Hope you guys liked the chapter!! I'm sorry for the delay and the ghosting, more fics will be updated trust!! Also thank you to all the people who were checking on me, I really appreciate it!!]
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celestiamour · 23 days ago
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haiii >_< could i request a myunggi (player 333) x fem reader. reader meets him at the games and falls for her because of the way she takes care of junhee and her baby (player 222)! i hope this isn’t too vague 🙈 do whatever ur heart desires with this!
ft. lee myung-gi x f! reader — squid game
╰₊✧ falling for your kindness towards jun-hee & his faults┊0.5k words
contains: fluff! newly established relationship, past myung-gi/jun-hee but not anymore obviously, reader is very kind
➤ author's note: love girls supporting girls, but the reader is kinder than i am, i would have beat his ass (another short one, i’m so busy omfg i hope to have a proper fic coming soon)
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it seemed a little strange to him at first when he realized how much attention he was paying to your interactions with his jun-hee, but truthfully, he was nervous about it all. you had only been dating for two weeks, and he had no idea how you would react to being told that his pregnant ex-fiancee was in these death games with the two of you. he’s surprised you didn’t tear his head off when it was revealed he had a little over a billion won in debt compared to the hundred thousand won he lied to you about, and you were only in this shit because you wanted to help him out too.
it’s only now that he’s noticing that your kindness seemed to have no bounds and that your sincerity was like that of an angel. when you first approached her, he half expected you to start a fight like most of his previous partners did when meeting each other: establishing their position as his girlfriend, telling the other to back up, and maybe even getting physical if they both were in a bad mood.
yet you did none of that, coming to her with all genuine smiles and concern for her well-being.
at first, she was a bit stand-offish for obvious reasons as she’s seen you plenty of times with the ex-youtuber, but once she saw your persistence to make friends with her, she eventually gave in and even smiled that myung-gi is a lucky man for having you in his life. after all, she couldn’t stay indifferent towards someone who went out of her way to help make makeshift accommodations for her pregnancy whether she needed extra food when eating for two, another pillow to sleep comfortably, or a buddy to go to the bathroom with. there was nothing you wouldn’t do for her and sometimes you even spent more time with her than your boyfriend. 
“aren’t you mad?”
“what do you mean?” 
“aren’t you mad at me for having a pregnant ex-fiancee? aren’t you jealous?”
“well, you didn’t know about it until we got here. besides, she said she doesn’t want you back anyway even if you are the father.”
“right, but… what about me keeping the severity of my debts a secret?”
“you didn’t want to worry me, i forgive you! listen, we’re all human and make mistakes, i’m not mad at you about anything. i just want to get out of here alive and use the money we earned surviving to pay everything you owe back then we can start being a real couple without all that on our shoulders.
he stared at you with his mouth slightly agape and shook his head lightly. there was nothing negative in your tone, nothing indicating that you didn’t care or that you just wanted to get the matter over with, you really were accepting the apologies made for his shitty past decisions out of the pure kindness of your heart. it made his own soar like a bird gliding along with the wind, feeling like he had the chance to improve and finally be the man you deserve. 
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dustpages · 9 days ago
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PornMum 2
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Six months went by and I found myself struggling with my daily life, my routine got too monotonous to be enjoyable and exciting, almost boring. I missed the thrill of my performing life, the rush of adrenaline knowing my fans would watch me in a new role. The way they would fantasise about me stroking themselves to ejaculate on their monitors. 
I longed to have my colleagues desperate to perform with me,  to feel their hands grabbing and kneading my body. I missed being the centre of attention, being wanted and admired by thousands of men and women. 
Nothing seemed to work no matter how hard I tried to get myself busy with different activities.  I ended up bored at home, questioning my current life and wondering if I had made the right choice by retiring.
The worst thing personally was not being able to vent my frustration and annoyance to my son. I loved him, but he was still too young and inexperienced to be considered my partner in the real sense. 
There were things I would have loved to try with him that I knew weren't appropriate for someone his age, and that made me feel guilty and annoyed at the same time. Not just related to our sex life but also in the most mundane activities like going out at a pub or shopping were complicated if not impossible with him. 
I've always loved him dearly and since we got to become bed partners, I got to love him even more if possible. But the crude reality was, that I craved more, not just physically but mentally as well. I needed stimulation and variety in all aspects of my life.
So, I ended up spending most of my days at home boring myself to death. Venting out my frustration and annoyance at him was out of the question, I was his mother first then his partner.  
Guilt and remorse were eating me alive, I required finding a relief valve before going crazy and ruining my bond with him.
Considering I had plenty of spare time I found myself browsing the Internet more often than not. A dear friend of mine, who had worked in the porn industry in Europe, named Cho Miyeon had made the news to be one of the first actresses to have opened an OnlyFans account.
I got intrigued and opened her page, scrolling through her posts and pictures. 
My jaw dropped when I saw how many subscribers she had gained in so short a time and the amount of money she made every month, not to mention how happy and free she seemed to be. She had found a way to balance her private and public life without the pressure of meeting deadlines imposed by producers or directors.
I pondered over the idea for the entire night and day. Could I do that? Would people subscribe to my content?
The answer was obvious, I had millions of fans following me online, and people would pay gladly to see me naked and masturbating, having sex with other men or women.
I didn't have to wait for scripts or schedules, I could create my own content. The idea thrilled me, it would allow me to have more freedom than I ever had before. I could shoot videos in my private studio and post them on the platform.
I imagined the thrill of being paid monthly for my work and having people masturbating on my videos. 
The thought alone of being desired and admired made my heart race and my panties wet. I made my decision that very day, I was going to open an Onlyfans account and let my fans have access to exclusive content, and maybe even let them pay extra for custom requests. 
The excitement I felt was overwhelming, I could record the video while my son was a school and post it by the time he got back. 
To burst into the scene of OnlyFans, I pondered contacting Miyeon to come over and have her as a guest star for my debut. I knew people would be ecstatic to see us two together. She was known for being bisexual, and we could shoot a threesome with a hot and handsome model.
I texted her on Instagram and waited for her reply anxiously, hoping she would accept my invitation.
The next morning my son woke me up with a kiss on the lips. I smiled and welcomed him between my thighs. We had a quickie before breakfast and he headed to school. I checked my messages and found hers waiting for me.
'Of course, let’s discuss the details.' 
I beamed in happiness and called her immediately. We talked on the phone for a bit and decided on the theme of the scene and that she would arrive in two weeks. I thanked her and hung up, feeling ecstatic at the prospect of going back to my roots, albeit not as I expected. 
For the next couple of days, I got busy setting up my profile and contacting a model to join us for the scene. I opted for a very good-looking boy in his early twenties with a promising future ahead of him. He accepted my offer willingly.
Once I had all the logistics sorted, I began preparing for the big day. I scheduled my son to be away from home for the day, telling him he had to visit his grandparents. He was reluctant at first but gave in once he heard I had a surprise for him if he went, I promised to call him later to inform him of my plan.
I contacted the model and told him to be at my place the day before the shoot. I wanted to test him before recording a scene with Miyeon, there were too many odds that could go wrong.  
At nine o'clock the doorbell rang, I opened it and was struck by how hot and gorgeous the model was. He had the je ne sais quoi that made him appealing. He bowed politely. " Nice to meet you, Mina."
I invited him to enter. " Come on, Manuel there's no need of being so polite."
I led him inside and showed him the room he could use to change and shower. Once he was comfortable, I proposed to grab a drink and have a chinwag before going down to business.
He was a true flatterer, praising me and telling me how much he enjoyed watching my movies and that he was honoured to work with me. I listened and laughed at his compliments, enjoying the company.
" I've asked you to come here a day before the actual shooting before I want to see how well we can perform together," I asserted. We've never done anything together, so I gotta make sure everything is perfect for my debut.
He smirked. " No problem here. It means I gotta have my way with you twice, just a fool would complain." 
I  chuckled and touched his arm. " Get naked, sweetie." 
He stood up from the sofa and peeled his clothes off. I watched his every move, admiring how toned and muscular he was. His cock was long but the most impressive thing was its thickness, it looked huge and juicy, I could imagine it stretching me wide. 
I licked my lips in anticipation, salivating at the mere thought of his cock filling my mouth and pussy.
Manuel was quick in disrobing me too, he took off my clothes expertly, leaving me nude on the sofa. 
He knelt between my legs spreading them wide and ran his fingers up and down my inner thigh teasing me.
"You are so soft." he murmured. " So smooth."
He lowered his head and traced circles on my mound, teasing my clit with light touches. I squirmed under his touch wanting him to dive into my folds and lick me properly.
" Please." I moaned.
He chuckled and stuck out his tongue, swiping it from my hole up to my clit in one swift motion. He repeated his actions a few times before settling on my nub and sucking it.
" Ahhh!" I cried out as he devoured me hungrily, his mouth and tongue working on me like a magic spell.
I reached down and fisted my hand in his hair, urging him to continue. He moaned in pleasure from the slight pain and increased the tempo of his ministrations. 
"Oh god!" I moaned. I was already so close to reaching an orgasm. I felt my body giving into the pleasure.
He sensed I was near and grabbed my hips pulling me closer to his face, sucking on me with more fervour.  
I whimpered and clutched his hair tighter, unable to control my moans. My legs began to shake and my toes curled.
He growled into my flesh as I started squirting. " Ohhhh!" I screamed out, coming violently into his mouth. My orgasm was so strong that I felt my vision blurring momentarily. He licked up all the liquid dripping from my slit.
My body trembled as he continued licking me softly, bringing me down from my high. I released his hair and collapsed backwards on the sofa.
Manuel stood up and positioned himself in front of me. " Are you ready to ride this beast?" he taunted, holding his dick and stroking it. 
I nodded eagerly, reaching out to grab his shaft. I leaned in and licked his head, tasting his precum. I opened my mouth wide and swallowed his length, sucking him hungrily. My hand reached down to rub his sack.
" Mmmmm, you taste divine." I hummed around his member, my throat relaxing and accepting more of his girth. He held my hair and controlled the tempo, pumping into my mouth.
I moaned from the feeling of his dick hitting the back of my throat, it was so thick that it stretched me wonderfully. He picked up speed, fucking my face roughly. 
My spit dripped down my chin as he penetrated my mouth mercilessly. His movements were fast and shallow, making me choke on his length.
" Fuck yes, suck me like a good whore." he groaned. I obeyed him and sucked him greedily, eager to please. My throat constricted around his head as he slammed into it.
He let out a strangled cry and released his load down my throat, shooting ropes of hot semen into me. I gulped it all down and licked his dick clean. He pulled out of me and patted my head. 
I smiled and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, removing the remaining spit from my chin. " How was that?" I asked him.
He grinned widely. " Amazing." he complimented. " You are a great cocksucker."
I laughed and kissed him passionately. " Thanks, now bend me over and fuck me." I requested.
He obliged, turning me around and pushing me on all fours. My body was still recovering from my previous climax and I knew the next one would be even stronger. I braced my palms on the armrest of the sofa and waited.
Manuel lined his cock to my entrance and pushed in. I screamed in delight from the feeling of being filled so deliciously.
 He began thrusting, pushing me further on the sofa with the force of his thrusts. 
" Ahhh!" I screamed as his length penetrated me deeply, my muscles squeezed around him trying to prevent him from exiting me. He didn't relent though, slamming into me brutally and hitting my G spot perfectly. 
"You're so fucking tight." he moaned, his breath coming out in pants. His hands held my waist, keeping me still. His hips slammed against my buttocks.
" Harder, baby." I urged him.
His thrusts became more aggressive and violent, making me scream at every penetration. 
" Fuck!" he growled, his cock pulsing inside of me. " You make me wanna cum."
" Do it." I demanded. He grabbed my hair, arching my back and making me go even deeper. He released my ponytail and grabbed my tits from behind, kneading them roughly.
I felt myself nearing my climax and I rubbed myself on his cock. " I'm gonna cum!" I screamed. 
His thrusts turned erratic. My body shuddered, my pussy squirted out all over his shaft and my inner walls contracted around him, my toes curled in pleasure. " As we agree, you are not allowed to cum inside of me" I made myself clear in the middle of a torrent of moans and screams.
He didn't answer me verbally but his hips stilled and he pulled out of me, releasing himself all over my back in thick white ropes of sperm.
I collapsed on the sofa panting. " That was great." I praised him. He panted above me, his chest rising and falling rapidly. 
We rested for a while, recovering from our exertions before parting ways, he grabbed his things and left for his hotel. I went to my room and took a shower, calling my son afterwards.
"How are you, baby?" I asked. 
He sounded ill, he sneezed and coughed before uttering a single word. " Not so good mum, but I can manage myself."
Another cough interrupted him and my worry rose. I knew him well enough to understand he wouldn't tell me if something was bothering him. " Where are you?" I insisted. " If you aren't feeling well, I can pick you up."
" Mum, don't stress it." he replied. 
I  sighed, feeling frustrated at not being able to do anything for him. " Alright, I'll trust your judgment. Call me if you need something. And don't forget to take your medicine." 
He huffed but promised me to do as told and hung up. I stared at my screen with a mix of emotions, worried about him and sad he wasn't at home. I knew it couldn't be helped, but it still made me feel bad. I decided to focus on the upcoming day, hoping Miyeon would distract me from my thoughts.
I slept soundly and woke up early the next morning, eager to prepare everything for the day ahead. I made sure all the cameras were working properly and the lighting was good, I didn't want any mishaps on the first day. 
I had already sent Miyeon the script of the scenario, she had studied it thoroughly and was aware of what she had to do.
I dressed in the outfit I had chosen and styled my hair accordingly. I paced nervously waiting for them to arrive.
Manuel showed up first, greeting me warmly and wishing me luck for the scene. He changed into his costume and came back wearing only a thong. I salivated at the sight of his bulge, eager to have him inside of me once more.
Miyeon arrived ten minutes later, looking stunning in her outfit. She hugged me tightly. " Long time no see!"
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I reciprocated the hug. " I know, I'm glad you could come." I replied. " I've been missing you." 
" Same here." she answered. " But we'll catch up after the shoot."
I nodded. " Let's get started then." I led them to the living room and explained the scene.
Scene is a big word to describe the three of us indulging in a threesome, exploring each other's bodies with hunger and passion. 
" Keep going, you are so deep." I urged. " Don't stop."
Manuel slammed into me from behind, his cock hitting my cervix every time he bottomed out into me. His hands gripped my waist tightly, keeping me still.
I whimpered at his ministrations, his thrusts were relentless and merciless. His sack slapped against my butt with every penetration, making me feel naughty and slutty. I squeezed his dick with my inner walls.
" Yes!" I shouted. " Like this! Faster!"
His hips snapped against my backside as he increased the speed of his thrusts, fucking me like a wild animal. He grunted in pleasure from my tightness.
Miyeon watched us avidly, her eyes shining brightly with desire. Her fingers played with her clit drenching her thighs adorned with black stockings. 
I had no idea when I started cumming, the only thing I was aware of was that it didn't seem to stop.  I came over and over again, squirting all over his length and my thighs.
" Remember not to cum inside." I reminded him. 
" Alright, I'm gonna use that pretty mouth of yours to cum." he responded. 
He pulled out my cunt and turning me around penetrated my mouth. I welcomed his length gladly, eager to swallow his load.
Miyeon came closer and reached between his legs, massaging his sack and stroking his perineum. His thrusts stilled suddenly. " Ahhh!" he shouted as he erupted into my mouth, flooding me with his salty seed. I swallowed it all greedily.
Manuel pulled out of my mouth and put Miyeon between his arms, lifting her and impaling her onto his dick. She moaned at the feeling of him entering her.
I watched them in awe, their bodies fitted perfectly together. She bounced on him with ease, using his shoulders to push herself up and down his length. 
His hands cupped her breasts and squeezed them roughly. She cried out in pleasure and threw her head back, letting her brown locks flow freely on her back. I licked my lips imagining how delicious her body must taste.
Her movements became frantic as she neared her climax. She scratched his shoulders and dug her nails into his flesh. 
" Yes, cum for me." he encouraged. " Squeeze my cock with your little pussy."
She came quivering in his arms,  screaming out his name. He kept thrusting into her, prolonging her pleasure. I came again from the sight of them, rubbing my clit and imagining being in her place.
Manuel lowered her to the floor in a variant of the missionary position. He drove into her forcefully, not stopping for even a second. He fucked her ruthlessly, chasing his climax. 
Her breasts jiggled from the force of his thrusts and she moaned loudly. Her fingernails clawed at his arms as he pounded her like a machine.
" You are going to make me cum!" she cried out, her legs trembling uncontrollably. 
He growled at her words and increased the speed of his hips. " Fucking do it." 
Miyeon came screaming, her muscles contracting around his dick. He let out a final grunt and shot his load all over her belly.
I applauded them and they laughed, still panting from their exertions. " Thank you." I expressed my gratitude. " You've been amazing."
They thanked me in return and we all got cleaned and Manuel bid his goodbye, leaving me and my friend alone.
I heard my phone ringing from the kitchen where I left it to charged. I had 14 missed calls from my father and a few from my mother.
"What the hell Mina." my father shouted through the phone. " I've tried to call you nonstop."
I  was confused and scared at the same time. " What happened?" I asked, dread creeping up my spine. 
"Your son." he stated. 
A chill ran through me at his words. I felt as if I had been punched in the gut, my lungs refused to expand and breathe. " What? Tell me!" 
" He has pneumonia." my dad said gravely. " Your mother took him to the hospital when he passed out in the garden."
I felt dizzy and disoriented, tears began to stream down my face. " Is he fine?" I asked. " I want to speak to him."
" He is sleeping right now." he told me. " He'll wake up tomorrow probably."
I sniffed loudly. " Tell me what to do." I implored him. " I'll drive over to the hospital right now."
"No, Mina." he refused firmly. " The fewer people are in the hospital the better it is for your son. I'll keep you updated on his condition."
I thanked him and hung up, sobbing openly. I felt a pair of arms encircling me and collapsed against them, letting them comfort me.
" Don't worry Mina." Miyeon soothed me. " He will recover. You'll be with him in no time."
I clung to her desperately, seeking solace and reassurance. Miyeon was a pure angel with me during the night, she cuddled me to sleep in her arms.
As the sun beamed Miyeon drove me to the hospital, I couldn't bear to be apart from my son anymore. We entered the room and found him sleeping, looking pale and frail.
My father stood up from his chair. " Go ahead." he told me, offering me the seat. 
I sat next to the bed and took my baby's hand in mine. " I love you." I whispered in his ear. " Always remember that."
My mother joined us in the room shortly after. She brought breakfast for everyone and we ate in silence. 
After a while, my son opened his eyes slightly, smiling at seeing me next to him. I kissed his forehead and caressed his cheeks.
" Hi, mum." he croaked weakly. I shushed him, telling him to save his energy.
" Hopefully your last 24 hours have been more fun than mine." he commented with a dark huff, noticing Miyeon.
I chuckled. " Well, it depends on how you define fun." I answered mysteriously. " Do you want to meet my friend?"
" You are making him speak too much, leave the room." my mother reprimanded me. 
Shamefaced, I left the room along with Miyeon, who was amused by the situation. We chatted for a bit and eventually, she said goodbye to me, promising to keep in touch.
I returned to my son's room, sitting next to him and talking softly with him, careful not to exhaust him. He was discharged from the hospital two days later. We returned home and he was confined to his bed for a week.
I spoiled him rotten, doing whatever it took to make him feel better. 
One afternoon he woke up and found me scrolling through my phone, I had taken him in my bed to stay close to him. He looked at me curiously. " What are all these notifications about?"
I had uploaded the video of the threesome on my OnlyFans and since then my phone has been bombarded with notifications and messages.
" Just some fans." I dismissed him. 
He looked unconvinced at my answer. " Give me your phone." he demanded.
 I handed him my mobile and he unlocked it. " Why do you have this app?" he questioned me, referring to the Onlyfans icon.
He tapped on it, opening the app,  his eyes widening in surprise. " You made an Onlyfans account."
I was caught red-handed, I hadn't anticipated that he would be interested in my phone and check on my apps.
" That's correct." I affirmed. 
He browsed the app focusing on the comments sections.  I winced inwardly knowing they would be explicit. I could read the surprise in his eyes when he scrolled through the comments. 
" These guys want to fuck you." he concluded. 
I laughed at his statement. " That's the main purpose of the app."
" So why are you on it?"
I took a deep breath, preparing for a fight. " I got bored staying home and doing nothing all day." I explained. " This allows me to perform without the pressure of a director or producer."
He closed the app and looked at me gravely. " Have you shot scenes already?" he asked me, sounding hurt.
I nodded in affirmation, not daring to look at him. He sighed deeply and rolled out of the bed.
 " I'm delusional." he affirmed. 
"  Why?" I asked confused.
" Because I thought I could be enough for you." he answered.
" Baby, you are enough for me, this doesn't change anything between us." I assured him. 
He scoffed at my words. " You just said that you got bored." he argued. " So obviously you needed something else."
" It's different." I defended myself.
" Dicks, money, visibility on the internet." he listed. " All the same as before, you just do it on your own without the control of a production, of doctors, agents and managers." he concluded.
His words stabbed me in the heart, he had nailed it on the spot. I was seeking attention and adoration putting my body on display to anyone willing to pay for it.
" Maybe." I agreed. " I wanted to experience something different." 
He shook his head, disappointment evident in his expression. " You never listen to me. You do what you want regardless of my opinion." 
I sighed, feeling defeated. I realized that he was right, I had acted selfishly not caring about his feelings.
" What do you want me to do?" I asked. " Delete the account?"
He coughed deeply, wincing from the effort. "T-the account isn't the actual problem." he acknowledged. " You are more talented than selling videos and photos to strangers." 
I had never seen him so serious with me. It made me feel awful to know I was the cause of his sadness. 
"I'll do what you say." I promised, willing to fix my mistake.
" It's not about me making decisions for you, we are family and family comes first." he asserted. " You have an angelic voice when you moan, you could be a decent singer if only you would."
I blushed, he had a point on that. " Are you suggesting to use my fanbase to start a music career?" I asked.
He shrugged. " At least you wouldn't sell your body."
I chewed on my bottom lip, pondering his suggestion. " I could begin uploading cover videos of my favourite songs on YouTube."
" Indeed. You will have the acclamation and recognition of your fans, closing a chapter of your life and pursuing a new adventure." he resonated.
I looked at him fondly. " Baby, you should be proud of your intelligence."
He smiled at my words, his eyes shining in amusement. " I am your partner, remember?" he teased. "I must support you."
I chuckled. " Come here." I spread my arms and pressed him to my bosom.
"I love you." he whispered against my skin. 
" And I love you too." I confirmed, running my fingers through his hair. " More than anything." 
" I've been longing to take you for too many days now." he asserted with a voice full of lust. 
 I giggled at his confession, feeling the heat of his arousal pressing against my thigh. I slipped my hand under his boxers and caressed his growing cock, he groaned at my touch.
"You'll have to wait until you recover fully." I denied him.
 " Your honey will cure all my illness." he taunted me.  " Besides, I've been fantasizing about fucking your throat for far too long now." 
My pussy clenched at his words, I loved hearing him dirty talk. He reached between my legs and pushed my panties aside. " You are wet, aren't you?" he murmured. 
I nodded, my cheeks flushed from his ministration. He slid two fingers inside of me, making me shiver in pleasure. 
" Beg me." he ordered. His finger reached my G spot, making me squeal from the sensitivity.
" Please, baby." I moaned.
His hand withdrew from my body and he smirked at me, showing me my juices coating his fingers. " Say it properly." 
I whimpered at the loss of his touch. " Please, I want you to fuck me."
He pushed his fingers back and pumped in earnest. " That's what I wanted to hear." 
His digits curled and assaulted my G-spot, making my muscles contract around them. I cried out in delight, my body trembled from the pleasure.
" You are a naughty girl aren't you?" he taunted. His fingers stilled for a few seconds before resuming their assault. " Cum for me."
I sobbed, unable to control my climax, I felt myself falling over the edge of ecstasy. I came hard around his fingers, soaking his palm.
He removed his hand from my cunt and sucked on his fingers greedily. " Mmmm." he praised my flavour. " You taste divine."
I watched him lick my juices and I shivered at the thought of him eating my pussy. He noticed my gaze. " Do you wish me to eat your pussy?" he questioned.
I nodded vigorously. " Yes."
" Then spread your legs for me." he ordered me. 
I hastened to comply, pushing my thighs apart. He positioned himself between them and lowered his mouth to my slit, inhaling deeply and devouring me hungrily. His tongue swiped my entrance up to my clit and flicked it softly.
My thighs trembled at the intensity of his ministration, his tongue was gentle but firm at the same time, sending sparks of electricity down my spine and heating my blood.
"Ahhh!" I moaned, clutching the sheets tightly. My hips lifted on their own accord, eager for more of his tongue.
His fingers parted my folds wider and he attacked my clit furiously, sucking and licking it relentlessly. My toes curled from the pleasure and my nipples pebbled.
I was already close to my climax when he stopped torturing my bud and plunged his tongue inside of me. I keened loudly at the sensation of him penetrating me with his tongue. 
He fucked me with his mouth, laving my insides and lapping at my juices. My pussy clenched around his tongue, trying to prevent it from exiting me.
His finger replaced his tongue, plunging into me and finding my G spot once more. He assaulted it without mercy, making me scream in pleasure.
I came again, my vision blurred and my muscles tensed up. I lost count of how many times he made me climax, all I knew was that my pussy was sore and sensitive but eager for more of him.
When I opened my eyes, he was standing before me with his boxers on the floor and his erection proudly in front of my face. I reached out and licked his length tentatively, tasting the saltiness of his precum.
He caressed my cheeks. " Do you want it done nicely or brutally?" he questioned.  
I smiled widely, feeling mischievous. " Brutally." I opted for the second option.
He laughed at my choice. " Open your mouth wide." he instructed.
I did as told and he pushed into me until his length hit the back of my throat. " Swallow me." he commanded, pushing deeper.
I gagged slightly at the sudden intrusion but he didn't stop. He grabbed my hair and fucked my mouth roughly, his balls hitting my nose. Tears streamed down my face and saliva dribbled from my chin, I struggled to accommodate him.
" Good god, Mina.” he praised. " Take all of me." 
He rammed into me without care, his thrusts becoming more vicious every time he penetrated my throat. I gagged loudly, unable to breathe properly. 
He slapped my cheeks lightly. " Breathe through your nose." he advised.
I took a lungful of air and exhaled slowly, managing to calm myself. He held my head still and fucked my mouth mercilessly, his balls slapping my nose. I felt him pulsing inside of me and tasted his precum dripping into my mouth.
" I'm gonna cum." he announced.
I prepared myself for the torrent of sperm that would flood my mouth soon. He shoved me deeper into his groin and released his seed into me. I swallowed greedily, eager to taste him. His cum was salty and delicious, I drank him like a thirsty man in the desert. 
His thrusts stilled as he emptied himself inside of me completely. I licked his length clean and he pulled out of my mouth gently. 
I lay on the bed exhausted, he lay beside me and cuddled me tightly. " How was it?" I asked.
" Perfect." he purred satisfied. " You are such a good girl, swallowing me like that." he complimented. 
I smiled at his words. " You are the best thing that has ever happened to me." I confessed. 
He snuggled against me and whispered in my ear. " I love you."
I reciprocated his sentiment, holding him tighter. I had found my haven and safe space within his arms and was determined never to let him go.
" Brace yourself, baby, I'll ride you like in a rodeo." I straddled him and sunk onto his erection. 
He gripped my hips and pulled me down on his length, impaling me fully. I gasped from the feeling of being split open. He slapped my ass and ordered. " Move."
I lifted my body and sank back down slowly, adjusting to his size. My pussy adjusted slowly to his thickness and I began riding him faster. 
"You like that huh?" I panted, feeling exhilarating pleasure from having him fill me.
He grunted in response, too focused on fucking me to be able to answer verbally. He held me steady and pistoned into me furiously. My tits bounced wildly with every thrust.
" Yes! Like that." I cried. My body shuddered from the strength of my climax. My orgasm was powerful and intense, it made my limbs tremble and my mind went blank.
My muscles contracted around his length, squeezing him deliciously. He let out a strangled groan from my tightness and I felt his hot seed coating my insides. 
We came down from our highs slowly, holding each other and exchanging kisses and sweet whispers. 
This was the beginning of a new era for us. I knew we still had plenty of hurdles to overcome, but I was sure we would face them together and emerge victorious.
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sutorus · 1 year ago
Text
✰ HC: BEING IN A SITUATIONSHIP WITH THE JJK F*CKBOYS
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DESCRIPTION: my hcs on what it’d be like to be in a situationship/fwb situation with the jjk men hehe
FEATURED: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem + afab reader, this is fully self indulgent i'm just taking my own shiddy experiences and coping via hot anime men, suggestive content/smut, pretty standard manwhore behavior, slightly toxic, not wholesome, kinda crack tbh, some mentions of degradation as a kink, objectifying women, just like the real thing lol!
A/N: LONG BUT READ! this will Not have an ending where you get together at least not rn these are just my hcs all in good fun ur just having fun ok ur not heartbroken everything is okay. they are not good boys here they are normal regular boys
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GOJO SATORU
has way too many hoes. way too many
so much so that he gave up on remembering their names and just saves their numbers like “osaka w the hand kink”, “big tits shibari”, “slut from trig”, “hostess best bjs”
has someone’s boobs with his name written on them in sharpie as his wallpaper
says i love you when he cums inside and you never know if you should believe it
throws you off when he agrees to meet your friends only for him to flirt with them in front of you
takes you to the best clubs with bottle service, lets the girls sit on his lap and laughs when you get mad
pays for your ubers everywhere every time
into the weirdest shit like wearing your underwear laughing like a lunatic the whole time he’s fucking you then after he cums gets sulky and embarrassed
lays it on thick with the pet names, gives zero fucks if that confuses you even further
very public with you and it makes you wonder how many other girls put themselves through this humiliation just for the d
gets jealous about you being with other people and needs to prove himself by eating it from the back or something
fwb with gojo is just a huge mindfuck honestly he doesn’t take anything seriously and this is no different sorry! it’s fun tho!
GETO SUGURU
keeps it extremely platonic because he likes to tell himself he has a conscience
too busy for regular chit chat ignores your texts all day then hits you up when he wants to fuck
even more of a whore than gojo is which is why he makes sure not to lead anyone on he just does not need the trouble
answers all your personal questions about him with one word answers
he lets you choose the movie for netflix and chill at least! but will never remember it or the fact that it’s your favorite :(
cleans you up after sex and brings you water
has female hygiene products in his bathroom which is both a red and a green flag
lets you stay after sex and you just lay there on his bed watching him do stuff on his computer but he will not be talking to you
never calls you baby or anything when he’s fucking you just goes oh fuck yeah right there fuuuuck your pussy
genuinely respects you and has nice decent sex with you unless you tell him that you’re kinky
in which case he fucks you just how you want it and gets off on how turned on you are
not one of those guys who gets jealous of sex toys and holds the wand on your clit for you
likes to make you cum over and over and over again
fwb with geto makes your heart clench because he’s just such a gentleman but you got way too much competition to even think about it
NANAMI KENTO
a professional in every sense of the word
uses sex as stress relief
thinks he's too old for this shit but you make him feel alive so he fucks you like he can empty all of his frustrations into you
invites you to his apartment serves you expensive liquor and lets you initiate things most times unless he’s too pent up
can actually have very nice conversations with you
never has the “what are we talk” because he makes it clear he’s too busy for a relationship
lets you spend the night if it’s too late but solely for your safety/logistics
does your taxes for you but will not call you anything beyond an “acquaintance”
texts you happy holidays but does not know when your birthday is
gets tested consistently even though he’s not fucking anyone else and always uses a condom unless you beg him not to
eats you out because he thinks it’s relaxing and spends hours prepping you
the sexual tension is soooo thick when you two fuck all you can hear is grunts and growls and moans and wet slapping sounds and it’s so hot
has some random turn ons like gets bricked up when you’re wearing lipstick or stockings
fwb with nanami is very enjoyable and easy it’ll get complicated if you develop feelings because he does not want to date but who cares yolo am i right
FUSHIGURO TOJI
broke ass deadbeat dad why are you into him
absolutely nasty sex
you know if he had a girlfriend he’d respect her too much to do the things he does to you
dick game so bomb that you’re scared he’s gonna give you a child even when he’s wearing a condom
wants to fuck you every way he possibly can on every fuckable surface with zero regard for your physical integrity
eats his cum right out of you
ego is so big, grins so wide and fucks you so hard when you stroke his muscles
loves to eat pussy but only after he’s fucked you because he likes it tight and hot with minimal prep
doesn’t follow you on any social media but jerks off to your instagram pics
has like 3 different phone numbers and you don’t know why
has only let you come over once, didn’t let you shower after
no pet names but calls you a dirty whore and other degrading shit
loves it if you cry on his dick
doesn’t give a fuck about your safety sorry you’re on your own
has never told you his last name
one time you asked to see a picture of his son and he didn’t speak for 3 whole minutes
fwb with toji is the nastiest sex you’ve ever had truly it’s just sinful and everyone’s dark hidden fantasy half of it you couldn’t tell your closest friends because it’s just too much
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a/n sorry
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