#and he'd try almost anything once

[rotinthedark]

He's a pretty simple guy, all things considered.

[fettery-fetterie]

GIRL HELP WDYM I REACHED 30 TAGS??????? OMG???? I WASN'T EVEN DONE YET

ANYWAYS 31st: and that compared to a relationship where the communication lines are basically none or very fucking weak then yeah it is an upgrade I think. Idfk I was never in a relationship I'm just picking from the ones I've seen in my life

[girlcrushau]

[snekdood]

and now that nigels gone, you dont have to pretend to care about black people anymore. even though you're supposedly a devout christian of some flavor so surely you also believe your god and your dead friends are watching over you with a judging eye- so im not sure why you're so giddy thinking you can 'get away with' being a bigot now that hes dead. do you believe god punishes sinners or not? oh wait- no… in your made up reality where nothing is congruent and we have lots of contradicting beliefs-- god just punishes the people you dislike, huh?

[webism]

pornstar!choso has a curated look that throws off a lot of his costars. strong build, straight-set face, hands made to choke and tear… most of those he film with don’t expect to be doted on the entire time.

people joke that pornstar!choso falls a little bit in love with every costar he fucks or gets fucked by. that glossy look that always pulls at his face by the time a scene ends, how his lip trembles with a need to be kissed raw when he cums. he says it's just the bliss of his orgasm—that he gets emotional in the moment, but it doesn't mean anything. well, until he meets you.

pornstar!choso who looks you up before his shoot because your name sounded vaguely familiar when it left his agents lips. he could have sworn you'd fucked before, because when he rolls the syllables of your name on his tongue they're nostalgic and taste like the sweat and laboured breaths of a long night between satin sheets. had you shot a scene together before? or had it been a one night stand?

pornstar!choso who realises that no, he hadn't slept with you before. but the familiarity of your name isn't a coincidence—he's fucked his fist to your videos more times than he can count. your name hits him like lightning, he had typed it into his search bar late in the night, cock hard and in need of instant relief. it's almost scary how well he knows you, what sounds you make when you get close to cumming, how you often arch your back and try to run from the overwhelming pleasure, how your eyebrows knit together when you're feeling so good it almost hurts.

pornstar!choso who realises with a now-red face that you probably don't have a clue who he is, and yet he's cum in time with you for months now. he's pretty sure he's drained his wallet at least twice on your cam shows... what if you recognise his name and piece it together with his username that he donates under? he debates cancelling the shoot, faking covid to get some time at home to hate himself endlessly.

but pornstar!choso realises that this is his chance to get to know how you really feel. he's imagined it so many times, as he fucked fake pussies or his closed fist using spit or his own cum as lube. you'd be warmer, undoubtedly tighter... so much prettier. and he wants to know more: would you prefer to take control and turn him into the toys he so often pretends are you? would you lay back all pretty and let him ruin you on his cock? how deep could you take him he knows he's big but you seem so eager, would you take him to the base with ease or would he have to force it in? bully your pretty pussy until it stretches to his shape?

pornstar!choso who hates the fact that your first, and possibly only, time together would be in front of a production crew and under the unsympathetic lights of a porn set. but he'd fuck on a stage in front of thousands if it means a taste of you.

pornstar!choso who makes it to the shoot before you do, comes ten minutes early to settle his anxieties and get a feel for the scene ahead. the director tells him its a simple shoot, that choso is meant to let you ride him for a while until you pull off and suck his cock for a nice close-up facial shot. the way the director speaks so clinically about sex with you makes choso grimace, he feels pathetic for feeling like this. like he'll be a changed man after feeling you around his cock, which is already painfully hard.

pornstar!choso who hates himself for stumbling over his words when he meets you. he wishes he had never looked you up, though he doesn't doubt seeing your pretty face like this would have wrecked his confidence regardless. you're kind, greet him with a shy smile as if he isn't about to slip balls deep inside of you.

pornstar!choso who, once he has you sitting on top of him on that bed—cameras pointed dutifully as you start to play your role and hike your skirt up so you can sink down on his cock—he can't handle the thought of fucking you like it's nothing, like it's not been the crux of his fantasies in the dark hours at night.

pornstar!choso who, probably to the detriment of his career, pushes you backwards onto the bed and connects his lips to yours in a kiss that surpasses every single fantasy he's had in his mind. you taste good, and he wants more. he speaks against your lips, asks whines a question that makes your stomach coil. 'can i eat you out first? please?'

pornstar!choso who is chided by the production team as he gets his head under your skirt and laps at your pussy in the most desperate act of need he thinks he's ever displayed. those that claim he falls in love with each shoot would be wholly correct in this case: he is in love with the taste of you, with the way your legs trap him in and ask for more. he could eat you for hours, run his tongue from your clit to dip it inside of you in reverence of the goddess he believes you to be. and you laugh at the absurdity of his hunger, at the courage it takes to run off script, and the pure need in which he eats you out.

pornstar!choso who only stops once the director threatens to cut the scene entirely. his cock hurts with how hard it is though, and he thinks the redirection of blood has made him lightheaded, because when he's made to sit back and let you sink down onto his length he swears he meets god.

pornstar!choso who can't help his whines as you ride him, an addiction already laying down roots in his brain. he has to try and think of anything less godly than you to hold on to his orgasm though, because the combination of your body and having subconsciously trained himself to associate you with climaxing is all too strong, and he's a hairs breadth away from cumming prematurely and ruining the scene.

pornstar!choso who realises as you continue, however, that your moans arent the same as he's heard them before, though the speakers of his phone. you're more breathy with him, your moans are less honeyed, more raw—as if coming from your chest rather than your throat. he wonders for a moment if he's not good enough, if you're having to fake your pleasure to save face for the cameras. but you're soaked, and even above the sounds of your shared pleasure he can still hear the squelch of his cock rutting in and out of you.

but before pornstar!choso can question himself further, your eyes are widening and you're latching a hand onto his throat as your pace increases. he can feel the way you tighten impossibly around him, the way your hips stutter and your pupils blow out with lust—you're cumming. and of course he remembers his instructions, to let you climb off of him and take his load over your face... but you're not climbing off of him.

pornstar!choso who understands the pointed look you manage to give him, that it's your turn to bypass the scene direction. you want to be greedy, to feel him finish inside of you, even through the confines of a condom. your moans arent fake, they're the first real ones you've let sound on a porn set—and choso is pulling them from your lungs like a choir's conductor.

pornstar!choso who can't last a minute longer, now with the way you lean in and coax him to climax with your voice, the soft praise that leaves your lips is an aphrodisiac and all too powerful. he sees stars when he cums, full blown galaxies too complex to imagine. call it an out-of-body experience or not, but choso is lost in his orgasm for long enough to warrant you bringing him back down with a soft kiss to his lips. he looks sinful: his hairs come loose, messy and stuck to his forehead. his eyes, though, are what's going to be the subject of a few screenshots taken by his fans: he looks totally infatuated.

pornstar!choso who, after taking a few minutes to settle himself after the shoot, watches as you walk over to him, a very pretty smile pulling at the corner of your lips before you lean down and peck his lips goodbye. he assumes it's the last he'll see of you, that there's no way he's worthy of every tasting you again. that night, he's scared to brush his teeth, to lose the way you linger on his tongue.

pornstar!choso who debates fucking his fist to the memory of you in bed that night. he thinks you've ruined masturbation for him, or sex in general: nothing could quite be the same. and as if its a sign from god that he's done enough good in his life to deserve some positive karma, his phone dings.

a photo of you, a pretty vibrator laid over your stomach. your laptop open in the background, his porn playing on the screen.

attached, a message that makes the poor boy cum in his pyjama bottoms. 'lets meet up again. i want to tie you up and film how stupid you get with a vibe strapped to your cock—a movie just for us, though. no audience.'

pt 2 in the works :p

[radiotorn]

having to restrain from saying anything when my dad dares to say that men get paid LESS than women. in what world. are you out of your fucking mind old man.

[eupheme]

— trouble will find me

[part ii | masterlist]

bodyguard!logan x mobster’s daughter!reader

rated e - 3k

tags: 70s era, dofp/bonedaddy!logan, bodyguard!logan, reader is the daughter of a mobster, reader is shorter than Logan, club setting, use of alcohol, cigar smoking, mutual pining, flirting, light brat taming!logan, references to violence, competence kink, semi-public vaginal fingering, kissing, forbidden relationship

a/n: I can’t stop thinking about dofp!logan sleeping with the girl he’s guarding, this is inspired by that scene! huge thank you to @pr0ximamidnight who let me chit chat about this little idea. you are amazing! 💖💕

His eyes darken. Fingers pinching against your skin, as he adjusts his grip, “‘s a bad idea, sweetheart. Supposed to keep you out of trouble.”

Your hands skate lower, fingers tracing the edge of his belt buckle. His nostrils flare - a warning, though he does not move.

“Supposed to keep me out of trouble,” You hum, “But what if I want a little in me?”

You can feel his eyes follow you.

Which shouldn’t really be surprising. It's his job, of course. Keep an eye on you, keep you safe.

But there’s something in the way he watches.

A curl of smoke from a lit cigar. Fingers tracing the rim of a half-downed whisky, a worn leather jacket thrown over a broad shoulder. The tilt of his chin when your eyes meet his - dark and narrowed, missing nothing. Slipping over you like the soft silk of your dress.

Indulging, almost. Unashamed.

You might have a crush.

You're trying not to think about it too much.

Tonight, you're just trying to enjoy the after-party.

It's all bright lights.

The room is bathed in pinks and yellows and flashing red. Disco club music pumped through the speakers, the panels of the floor flickering to the beat. You've been here for two hours already. Nursing tequila sunrises and pink squirrels. Sweat sticking to the nape of your neck, as the minutes tick by, bleeding past midnight.

He's not going to stop you, just yet. You can have your fun tonight - sway to the beat of the music - as long as you play by the rules.

Logan is so different from the ones before him.

Tripping over their feet to check on you. Breathing down your neck, with their padded-shoulder suits smelling like cigarettes and cheap cologne. Too afraid for themselves, of your father, to actually do a good job of protecting you.

Stifling and all too willing to tell you yes to anything.

It was exhausting.

Logan had come recommended - an acquaintance of a friend. He'd 'get the job done' from what you heard. Motivated. Needed the cash and would listen, no questions asked.

Just the type your father thought he could sway - a half-wild guard dog, his salary a leash. Heeling at the click of a tongue, the snap of fingers.

It's not how you saw him, though.

His silence was not obedience. There was nothing bought about this man - watching you from the line of leather booths along the wall.

You've wondered if maybe - you're just desperate to find some form of kindred spirit in someone. Too used to feeling like an accessory instead of a person. Your appearance at your father's events drove home his image. The good, family man who was oh so generous with his time and money.

Articles were written weekly about how philanthropic he was.

You had no idea if anything ever came from the numerous events you hosted - an attempt at doing something with your education. How much was skimmed off your blood, sweat, and tears, funneled back into what he did best.

Maybe you both saw through the bullshit.

He'll last longer than the others, at least.

More than once you've been halfway out the door, headed off to East Village or SoHo, only for him to catch you by the scruff of your sweater - whisking you back inside or into the Lincoln Town Car before you realized what happened.

An angry fist connecting with the nose of a man who had gotten too close at a gala last week. Cornering you in the coat room. Logan, charging in like a snarling beast when you had whimpered his name - red dripping down to stain the pressed white collar as the man was hauled away.

You’ve been thinking about that for days.

There was no sucking up. No flashing of a holster under his arm, some grandiose promise that you don't need to worry. You've never even seen Logan near a weapon but somehow, you feel more safe with him than you ever have with anyone else.

But this bit of internal tenderness that has sprouted, paired with his competency, has been seriously cramping your style.

It’s been enough that he's been hard to get out of your mind. Two weeks of teasing and poking at the limits set. Never giving you much, with that glare - thick arms crossed over his chest. A little thrill rippling up your spine, when his voice goes low and gruff.

The lights go dim, as the music begins to slow.

With the way your eyes wander, you know he sees you when you pick up a partner.

A man that moves with you, peeling off to crowd your space after your hips swivel with the hustle. His hand dipping low from where it rests on the small of your back.

Bold, when he bends to ask you 'if you'd like to get out of there'.

You meet Logan's eyes when you tell him yes.

Telling yourself that it's just to forget him. Definitely not because you're desperate to see the look on his face. To hear that tone he takes when he's pissed off.

A way to ascertain if you've taken root in his mind, even for just a moment.

There's zero chance Logan heard you from across the room. But it doesn't stop him from moving. Pushing to his feet, cutting straight through the crowd to wrap a hand around your bicep the second you start peeling off with the stranger - heading towards the side door.

"No fucking chance." It's gritted out, as he yanks you to him. Your shoulder collides against his chest as he steps between you and the man.

A sloppy hand pushes against his arm. The man's eyes are hazy under the neon lights as he makes a grab for you.

"Come on, man. I saw her first."

Logan pivots you away with a snarl, "She ain't leaving with you, bub."

Another sloppy shove, glancing off the brown leather jacket.

"You're really starting to piss me off." Logan's tone drips with warning, with knowing, "Gonna regret starting something in a room full of people like this."

And it's now that he takes in how big Logan is. The flex of splayed-wide fingers, knuckles curling into a clenched fist. A look in his eye that says that punches won't be pulled - not tonight.

The stranger takes a step back. It's enough.

You're already getting hauled away before they can answer. Guided into one of the many VIP rooms. A snarled "get the fuck out of here" to the attendant, before Logan's crowding you against the bar - hands bracing on his hips.

Fuming, you push yourself up to sit on the top - an attempt to get closer to his height.

"What was that about?" Your chin lifts, as your arms cross.

His eyes flash - a curl of his lip, "Can't you make my job easy, kid?"

Kid. It always makes you bristle. So far from that, and it's the way he says it. That dripping edge, like he knows something you don't.

"Maybe he was a friend." You deadpan.

"Yeah. Real friendly," He scoffs, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose, "You think your daddy is gonna like you going home with a piece of shit like that?"

That makes your teeth clench - a glare sent his way, "I don't think it's any of your business."

"It's literally my business, sweetheart." Logan huffs. His hands curl around the edge of the bar, braced on either side of your knees.

Your breathing hitches, for just a second. The soft name is ground out between his teeth, but it still shoots straight to your pussy.

You haven't been this close to him before. Enough to see the bleed of brown to green in his hazel eyes. The sharp mark between his brows that you want to press your thumb against.

The shorn-down hair at his chin, before it grows thick across his cheeks. Handsome in a way that makes you ache, your fingers curling into fists to keep from touching him.

There's been moments alone - car rides, lounging in the armchair in the corner of your room when he barks at you to hurry up.

But it hasn't been like this.

Maybe it's the opportunity. Maybe it's the amber glitter of tequila in your veins, but you let your palms press against the shining wood. Your knees inch a little further apart, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs.  

"That the only reason you whisked me away?” Your eyebrow lifts, "Kidnapping, if I recall, is one of the things you're supposed to be keeping me safe from."

"You are safe." He deflects, "'s not kidnapping when it's me.”

Those eyes are still on yours. Not dropping to where his hips nearly press against the edge of the bar top.

You break the eye contact first.

“Well, it’s fine.” You sniff - as if his actions had been your idea, “I didn’t want him anyways.”

Logan grunts. There’s the slightest brush - the flex of his thumb at your thigh, where your dress rides up. A long look before he’s pushing back to step away, but your fingers reach out, catching on his white shirt.

“Are you going to ask me what I do want?”

There’s the slightest twitch of his nose. Lips parting to show the peek of a tongue, caught between teeth. The briefest dip of his eyes. Down to the shadow between your breasts, pressed together as you lean forward to catch him.

“I know what you want, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Not gonna happen.”

The rejection stings, and you pout, “What isn’t?”

A sigh, and he’s stepping back into your space. Your hand flattens against his stomach, hard muscles beneath as his head tilts.

“You want a man to take you home. Treat you nice.” Logan’s eyes burn into you. Wide hands curving around your knees, thumbs pressing into flesh, “I’m not that guy.”

You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat. How it thunders to the beat of the music muted outside this room. Dropping down to pulse between your thighs.

Wondering if he’s thought about you, the way you have him. How he could both see and miss so much at once.

“You’re wrong,” Your head shakes, “I don’t want that.”

A breath, before you’re confessing, ”I want you.”

Logan's eyes darken. Fingers pinching against your skin, as he adjusts his grip.

“‘s a bad idea, sweetheart. Supposed to keep you out of trouble.”

Your hands skate lower, fingers tracing the edge of his belt buckle. His nostrils flare - a warning, though he does not move.

“Supposed to keep me out of trouble,” You echo, “But what if I want a little trouble in me?”

The smile you give him is sweet, a tilt of your head as he catches your hand. Thick fingers curl at your wrist, holding your hand in place. A thumb pressed up against your pulse.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me.” He rasps, voice low.

You’re undeterred.

“Could get on my knees.” You coo, “You could show me. Would you like that?”

Logan’s jaw grits. His grip loosens just long enough to feel your wrist flex - before he guides your hands, pressing your palms flat against the polished wood.

“It’s not going like that,” He husks. The tone is the same as when he’s ordering you around, one that makes your back go straight, “Those are staying right there. Got that, honey?”

All you can do is nod, as his hands skate up your thighs. Fingers massaging into flesh, soft and smooth as he eases them wider apart. Fitting himself closer between them.

The way he looks at you now is the way he did before.

Focused, as your dress inches higher. The fabric pooling at your hips as they tilt toward him, the pretty lace between your thighs now on display.

“Look at you,” His tongue clucks. A finger tracing the elastic edge, as you clench in anticipation, “Need this, don’t you?”

Drifting across, a thumb pressing against the fabric. It sends a jolt through you, your fingers almost reaching for him before you remember.

“Good girl.” He muses, as your hands flatten again.

The slightest pressure as the pad of his thumb slips up. Nudging against your clothed clit, as you inhale a sharp breath.

Pressing, and circling. It’s agonizingly slow, his eyes flicking up to watch the way you bite back a whimper. Your hips flexing into his touch, aching for more.

It lifts, so he can see how the fabric has dampened. Clinging to your skin, his knuckle tracing your seam.

“Making a mess.”

You can only whine in reply. Afraid that he’ll stop if you make too much noise. If you move - he’s made it clear he’s in charge here, and for once you’re willing to follow.

The pad of his thumb pulling back, a faint shine in the neon-bathed room.

“That for me?”

Your head nods, “Logan, please-”

There’s a sharp flash of teeth. Fingers pressing low, fitting against you, “You want me here?”

“Yes.”

You need him. Need anything he’ll give you, the sharp pinch in your palms where your nails bite into flesh.

“Ask me.” He coos.

“Please put use your fingers,” It comes in a rush, “Want you in me-”

Logan smirks, as his fingers slip beneath the waistband. Air sucked through clenched teeth when he meets slick, soaked skin. A teasing swirl against your clit before he’s parting you.

The tip of his middle finger tracing your hole, before it dips inside. His hips flex against the wooden edge, when you clench around him immediately. Trying to draw him deeper, as he works himself further in.

His fingers are much thicker than yours. A second already tracing where he opens you up. Teasing the tip in as his hand flexes, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit.

Your head tips forward. Each breath growing shorter, as you’re stretched around him. That slight ache unfurling into pleasure. Panting, as the pump of his fingers grow louder - the muffled cadence of skin against skin each time his palm collides with your cunt.

The fabric strains against his hand, his knuckles pressed against the soaked fabric.

Something bright burns in your belly, as your knees press into his hips. It makes you break the rules - a hand grasping at his arm. Anchoring yourself with your grip.

“I wanna watch. Let me see you.”

He lets you. A tap against your hip so you can lift. Carefully pulling your underwear down, easing them over the heels of your boots.

The lace disappears into his jacket pocket. His palms against your inner thighs, spreading you open. A throaty groan when he sees you, one that he can't quite manage to bite back - the rough sound shooting straight through you.

You both watch, when his fingers fit inside you this time. Two sinking down to the knuckle, slick and shining.

Unable to bite back the moan this time, though he does not shush you. His eyes fixed on your face instead, watching how your brow pinches when his fingers crook deep inside you. Searching.

The way you go jolt and then go tense when he finds it, a soft cry loosening.

“You been fucked like this before?” Logan growls, his fingers dragging against that soft spot inside you with his emphasis.

Your head shakes, when he does it again. Eyes dropping to watch his how hand looks, how you wrap around his fingers. The slick shine as they pump a little faster.

His other hand taps against your thigh.

“Words, sweetheart.”

“No,” It comes out hushed. Needy. “Never.”

His lips part with his groan, baring his teeth. With the way he touches you - his thumb moving to rub circles against your clit - it’s not long before he has you close.

A swiftly building pressure in your belly. That space between you eases as your knees close around his hips. His head tilting until his nose ghosts against your cheek.

Breath hot against your neck, as he inhales you. The slightest scrape of teeth that makes you bear down on his fingers - so careful not to leave a mark behind.

“Logan,” You pant. “That feels, ah, I think I’m gonna come-”

He groans against your skin, keeping the same pace. Feeling how you forget yourself - grasping at him, arching into his touch. Your muscles going tight as your breath grows short - panting.

“Give it to me,” Logan growls, “Come on my fucking fingers, baby.”

It’s impossible not to listen. You come, with his thumb pressing against your clit. His fingers notched deep inside you, as he feels your pulse racing beneath his lips.

The moan that rips from you pitches up, and then goes silent.

It leaves you breathless. Deep waves throbbing inside you, as you dampen his palm. Washing over and pulling you under, as your vision darkens.

“That’s fucking it. Come on, honey.” He coos, “Just look at you, so fucking pretty.”

The pump of his fingers goes still, the tips still crooking, as the tight pulses wane. The air comes rushing back into your lungs as you come back to yourself, your hands fisted in his jacket.

His chest heaves. Eyes hungry, when he slips from you. Slick clinging to them, webbing between his fingers as he pulls them up to the light.

Before he’s focusing on you again, his other hand thumbing at your lip.

“Open.”

They part automatically. Closing around the fingers he feeds you. The salt of his skin pairing with the sweet tang of your release, too blissed out to do anything but suck them clean.

“Good girl.”

It’s soft, as his fingers press down. Spreading, until you’ve cleaned yourself from them. Only when they slip from you, does his head dip.

A soft sound as his mouth presses against yours. There’s the sweep of his tongue against your lip, needy and insistent. You part for him, swallowing the moan as he tastes you. Teeth and tongue - deepening the kiss as his hands grip at your waist.

Letting your hands grasp at his shoulders. Tug at his hair until you’re pulled flush against him, your tits crushed against his chest.

Hungry, threatening to devour you, until you mumble his name.

Bringing him back to himself. Sharing a breath, Logan’s forehead pressed to yours when he pulls back. Those spit-slick fingers dropping down.

Palming himself roughly, where his cock strains - thick and hard against his jeans. A bitten-back groan, the word “fuck” rumbling deep in his chest as his hips flex into his hand.

“You going to listen now? Get that out of your system?” It comes out ragged, and you’re nodding.

All your sharp edges smoothed down. Blissfully complacent, as his fingers get a better grip on your waist. Bringing you down to the floor with wobbly legs, his hand coming to grasp at your upper arm.

“Good.” He growls, “Come on.”

A sharp tug, and you almost trip over yourself to follow.

“I’m taking you home.”

ahh I had the idea for this and had to jot it down! and I do know he goes by james/jimmy in the 70s because it’s pre-weapon-x, but I'll be keeping it as logan for this. (And I am thinking this will be a two-shot - give her a chance to get what she wants 😏💖)

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki is pissed the fuck off.

it doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell. whenever he's angry he makes it extremely obvious and most of the time it becomes everyone's problem. but it's weird to you because he was fine like, 5 seconds ago.

until 5 seconds ago he'd gotten back from buying groceries for the class and kissed you on the forehead as a greeting. he'd even brought the oranges you'd begged him to get last minute because you'd randomly been craving them, even after saying he wouldn't (but you both knew he would.)

but now he's pissed, and you have no idea why.

he's not saying anything either, but he keeps huffing and clicking his tongue every once in a while, fist pressed hard against his cheek and his jaw locked tightly chewing on the little piece of the own orange he'd been eating and finished a bit ago.

you keep munching on your piece of orange as you stare at him, and then you poke at his cheek. he grunts, shooing your hand away and leaning away from you.

"what's got you so grouchy ?" you tilt your head with a raised brow, he scoffs. readjusting his leg on the couch. you fight the urge to roll your eyes. he's ignoring you now ?

"katsuki."

silence.

"katsukiii-"

"it's nothin'." he growls, huffing through his nose.

this time you do roll your eyes "sure, that's why you're being all cranky." slowly, you inch towards his spot on the couch where he'd secluded himself away. he hasn't left the room and he doesn't react to you getting closer besides a slight side eye, so you know he's probably just being dramatic.

his nose scrunches up at your wording and he pretends he doesn't notice you lifting his arm up to lay in them. he doesn't comment on how he almost immediately changes his position to make you more comfortable.

"m'not cranky." he spits, eyebrows contorting and a pout settles onto his face "not a baby."

could've fooled me you think, but you decide against actually saying it. you're smile widens when his eyes narrow once he meets yours, he pinches your side "quit starin' at me."

"katsukiii. what's got your panties in a bunch ?" you coo and katsuki gives you the most repulsed look you've ever seen him make.

"don't ever say that ever again, i'm so fucking serious." he groans at your giggling, leaning his head away and shoving his palm in your face to get away from you like he couldn't just leave the room instead of actively pulling you closer to him. really, could've fooled you.

"ya didn't let me peel yer orange for you.." he mumbles grumpily.

you blink up at him "..what ?"

eyebrows furrowing just at the memory, he continues "was gone for three seconds to put away the damn groceries an' here you go, prancing around me, throwin' your peel away in the trash right in front of me."

oh, wow.

"katsuki. really ?"

"you know i always do it for you. yn." he sasses.

"that's why you were so mad at me ?" your giggles muffled by him pressing your head into his shoulder in a headlock.

"you were busy !" you fight weakly.

"so ? if you've got shit to do you come to me, i woulda done it in two seconds. peeling oranges doesn't take that long, dummy."

you keep giggling as you try to fight him off before you hear him snort and he releases you.

as stupid as it may sound, katsuki isn't the best when it comes to letting his affection be known through words, so you know how much acts of services, as small as they are, mean to him.

you sometimes forget how much he loves to do little things for you. throwing away your little candy wrappers, or already unwrapping your ice cream for you. or absentmindedly fixing up and sorting out your desk, or bookshelf when he sees your manga out of order or sticking out too much. the little ways he cares for you make your heart flutter. you smile up at him and offer him a piece of orange. he scowls at it.

"don't want your stupid orange." he mutters childishly, but you don't have enough time to pull away to eat it yourself before he grips your wrist. bringing it up to his mouth to eat it anyway. you roll your eyes with a fond smile.

"i'll be sure to leave the orange peeling to you from now on." you jest. he grunts in approval, softly chewing on the slice of juicy orange before patting your wrists, signalling he wants more. and you snort, but you still hand him another piece. his warm grip on your wrist remains even though he could very well just take it out of your hands. he hums again when the taste kicks in.

"you better, i mean it. otherwise it's your funeral."

thank my lovely lovely moot @kovu-bunnbunn for this lovely idea ! tysm twin ! :3

[hyuny-bunny]

skz + types of p*rn they watch (w/links) pt 1. hyung line

MDNI (+18) content warning: p*rn, nsfw links, mentions of rough sex, use of female anatomy, breeding, spanking, choking, fingering, oral (f receiving) most afab reader terms.

a/n: if the links are not working for you, you may need the app as most are not compatible with a web browser

pt 2. maknae line

chan: he's definitely watching twitter/x porn. as for what side of x he's on all depends on the mood. he definitely seems to stay on a more "vanilla" side. probably has a keen interest on size kink and breeding videos. but what they all have common is riding. it gets him so riled up seeing ones shot in cars because the next time he sees you it's all he thinks about. he'd love nothing more then to have you riding his dick, his hands holding your hips in place, eventually snacking a hand to lightly you choke and bunching your skirt in the other hand while you sloppily bounce on his cock. maybe he's taking you out to a nice dinner & movie but once your back in that car he's practically begging you to sit on his cock.

"baby, i need you so bad. come here, ride me, need to feel this pretty pussy on me."

breeding

riding

minho: there's so many things i could say about him. i don't think he necessarily needs porn to get off or actively looks for it, but i do think he loves being able to send you links that either remind him of the both of yours sexcapades or things he wants to do to you. i feel like he watches a lot of overstimulation, spanking, BREEDING, and just a sprinkle of voyeurism. i think he gets really turned on by the ones of girls in pretty lingerie wearing collars with bells, so every movement makes the bell ring. he almost collapses to his knees when he gets home one day to see you wearing the collar he bought, the one he'd been hiding and waiting for the right moment.

the only thing on your mind is the feeling of your sopping wet cunt being suffocated by minho's cock. he's got a fistful of your hair in hand, pulling you up from your pillow before landing a hard smack on your ass, never letting up on his thrusts.

overstimulation

spanking

changbin: another one in my books that loves size kink porn. not because i think he likes someone smaller, but more so the fact that he likes the feeling of being able to make someone feel so small. in seo changbins biceps, we trust. i think this one in particular will have him pleading with you to let him try it. you might feel reluctant because of any underlying insecurities at the though of feeling like you're "too heavy" (there's so no such thing to him) . it isn't till he's got you lifted up against the wall with no holding you either than his arms & shoulders, his mouth lapping away at your pretty cunt, any worries you ever had dissipated along with your ability to use your words.

"bin-binnie please i-i can't hold on much longer" a string of whines follow suit. he's been at it for a while and you've already had two orgasm but he's relentless. all you can hear are his groans and the squelching sound of his tongue abusing your cunt. he lifts his head up from between your thighs with you hand webbed in his hair, mirroring your worn out lustful look.

size kink

making you feel small

hyunjin: to me, i think hyun goes either of these two ways. he's the most depraved man known to walk this earth that loves it sloppy, messy, wet and downright lustfully filthy. the latter also leads me to believe he's not big on porn, prefers either his imagination or his OWN videos. one he's recorded (with your consent + encouragement) while you've done it together. he needs the passion of either love or the passion of wanting to make the either cum so hard they've gone to heaven (preferably both). if he's watching videos, his favorite ones always have the girl shaking and crying in pleasure by the end. he needs to see the passion, lust to be able to get off. when it's you, it's different, if anything it brings him back to those moments to fully remember the need between the two of you. that being said he's heavy into breeding/cumplay and semi restraining. he loves seeing the hands held behind the back and holding someone in place while they fall apart in his lap + cock.

it was supposed to be a quick kiss, which turned into heavy petting, and now he's brought your leg over his hips. the panties you were wearing discarded somewhere in the room, one arm is wrapped around you holding you tightly to his chest while his other hand is at work. his middle & ring finger are knuckle deep thrusting into you and he's groaning into your neck sucking hickies in all your favorite spots.

semi restraints

playing w you in his lap

[chastiefoul]

wrote this because somehow zayne keeps ending up underneath mc in almost every of his card 🤨

nsfw.

riding zayne to a point where he's close to tears.

bouncing on his cock with an unmatched vigor, the thick length filling you up nicely as your eyes hit the back of your head as you went down each time. zayne could only shut his eyes at the intense stimulation, his jaw clenching as he grip your waist tightly, trying his best not to climax all because you said so.

"love, please," he groaned, using all of willpower not to chase his own pleasure like a madman, to thrust his hip upward and meet your pace halfway. because more than anything, he wanted to be good for you. yet his plead fell on deaf ears as you keep using his dick like your own personal toy. and maybe it'd frustrate the man if only he didn't love it. the sight of you above him moaning his name was enough to bring him to the edge.

you fastened your pace, observing your lover's expression closely. his face all scrunched up in pleasure, ready to taste a release that's in front of his eyes. but suddenly you slowed down, grinding on his hardened member lazily, once again denying him of orgasm. his lips trembled slightly as he opened his eyes, all glassy. the unsaid words was as clear as a day. why?

you kissed his eyelids, "just a bit more, zayne. can you do it for me?" he nodded immediately, distracting the twitch of his cock that's begging for a release with the feel of your skin on his palms. as he stared at your pretty figure above him, zayne was sure he could endure it a few times more.

if only he knew how much he'd regret thinking that.

[ghouljams]

Ok nobody extrapolate anything about me from this...

The first time you cry in front of the 141:

The first time you cry in front of Ghost it's because you can't fucking take it anymore. All the little things, all the comments you know he didn't mean to hurt, all the conversations you ignored because you didn't want to make him feel like the bad guy, it all comes to a head. You don't even mean it to happen, and you feel like shooting yourself on the spot as soon as the tears start flowing. It feels manipulative. It feels disingenuous. You feel like a piece of shit having him awkwardly bundle you in his arms as you break down sobbing over a topic that normally would mean nothing to you. And it all comes out. All the worries and slights you ignored, all the fears and doubts, all the things that made you question if you could ever even start to bring up with him. Like throwing up, once it starts you can't stop it.

He looks like you've hit him when you finally escape his bear hug. You barely get the chance to take it in before you're thrust back into sobbing hysterics, blubbering out apologies, how you feel like you're manipulating him, how you're a bad partner, how you're sure he's going to realize he doesn't want you and leave. You barely hear the rough "Jesus Christ" over your own hiccuping.

Ghost shuffles the two of you over to grab you a t-shirt to blow your nose in while you're sniffling and wiping at your eyes. You feel pathetic having him hold the fabric to your face and telling you to blow.

"Didn't know ya made this much snot love," he jokes.

"You're dot funny," you whine, nose still clogged with wattery mucus as your tears finally start calming down.

"I know," he grumps.

"You're mad at me," you sniffle.

"I'm not," he sounds mad, "mad at myself. Shoulda seen ya keepin' things to yourself, I'm glad ya finally told me." His scarred mouth screws to one side. "Just gotta work on makin' sure we don't get to this point again."

-

The first time you cry in front of Soap it's because you're so fucking mad at him. He's arguing with you over nothing, the same way he always does when he's in a bad mood. Finding little things that dig at you and twisting just enough to make it not his fault when you snap. Back and forth with your barbs until you got to bed angry.

You can feel the tears burning at your waterline before they spill and you know your hot cheeks don't bode any better. You're not yelling but you almost wish you were, at least of you were yelling at each other it might make you feel better about the sudden waterworks. You hate when this happens. Too big an emotion in the body, it has to come out somewhere, you suppose this is just the quickest avenue. The way Soap's face drops from anger to concern pisses you off though.

"Hen, are ya-"

"I'm so fucking mad right now," you assure him, "don't look at me, don't even acknowledge them."

"Ah dinnae ken," His voice is getting softer, it only makes you more upset, "Oh my bonnie, ahm sorry ah didnae think this would hurt ya so bad."

"Fuck off," you try to push past him to lock yourself in the bathroom and he catches your arm to pull you against him. "Fuck off!" You shriek, pushing at him.

"No," he holds you a little tighter, "my mam would 'ave my heid hearin' ah let ya walk away from me like this, yer stayin' 'ere."

"I will fucking skin you Mactavish," you struggle harder.

"Aye anno, now shut up an' quit yer kickin'."

You do neither of those things.

-

The first time Gaz sees you cry it's because no one's ever seen you before. Even in your best relationships, your closest friendships, no one sees you like Gaz. No one picks you up from work with flowers and takes you by your favorite bakery just so you can have a slice of cake when you watch your comfort show. You're not even through the title music, Gaz sorting through your takeout options after he'd gotten you a "fancy plate" and a small fork to eat with, when you break down in sobs. He's on you immediately, hushing you as he gathers you into his arms. He's so attentive it hurts.

"It's OK baby," he hums, "don't have to talk about it, you just let it out."

God even that gets you crying. You don't have to get your words right or find a way to explain what you're feeling, you can just feel it. You try to think of a way to put it into words but it all lines up wrong, sounds too juvenile, doesn't make any sense even to you. There's no need to say anything though, Gaz just sits there with you, holds you through it as you wet his shoulder with your tears.

You don't even know why you're crying by the end of it, you just kept coming up with other reasons to cry. Jesus you don't think you ever got over your last grandparent dying, or losing that one friend, that's something to unpack later. You feel drained. Literally dehydrated drained. Gaz's shirt is soaked, but he doesn't day anything when you pull back.

He cups your cheek at wipes at the wet stains on your cheek with his thumb, eyes searching yours before he gives you a tight smile.

"Why don't you go take a hot shower, yeah?" He offers, you give him a watery nod, he smiles and pats your knee. "Alright, off you go. I'll be in, in a second."

The second time you cry in front of Gaz it's before he's got you pinned to the shower wall.

-

The first time Price sees you cry it's because you're tired. You're tired of giving everything to this relationship and seeing him leave right when things seem to be falling into place. His phone buzzes in the middle of the night and you don't stop the downpour when he grumbles out a swear and turns on the light. You glare at the ceiling and let the tears flow. It hurts. Tight in your chest. This feeling like you'll never be enough, like he'll always have something more important than you, it kills you. So why can't you leave him?

Are the good times really good enough to make up for the bad?

It makes him stop what he was doing when he sees the resolute grimace and the flow of tears over your cheeks. You shudder in a breath when he sits on the side of the bed. You refuse to look at him.

How could he do this to you?

"Sweetheart," he starts, his voice low, gentling, "I'm sorry."

"You're not." You correct him, "Otherwise you wouldn't keep doing it."

"You want me to choose between you and the world, you know what I'll say." He always sounds so sharp, ready to guilt you into giving up what he wants.

"I'm asking you to choose between me and paperwork," you bite back.

"You don't know-"

"You get phone calls when you're being deployed." You remind him, "You get reminders when papers are due." You turn to glare at him. The look on his face twists like a knife in your chest. You're dead on the money, and it's killing him. "So can this really not wait until the morning, are you really that eager to be rid of me?"

"I'm sorry," he tries again, toeing off his shoes, "you're right, I hadn't noticed." You turn over as he climbs under the duvet again. You fold your legs up as his arm drapes over you hip and he curls around you. His lips touch your shoulder, a silent plea for forgiveness. "Let me make it up to you, no more running into red tape I promise."

You don't bother agreeing to empty promises, but the next day he's had the paperwork sent from the base. The same the next day. Price always told you working from home didn't suit him. Waking you up with a cuppa on the other hand and walking you to the station does though.

He makes good on his promise, he doesn't run off until the next call comes in.

[cherry-hulu]

— Better than me?

Synopsis: You were a smart girl, always praised for your wit and speed. But why is it that you go dumb and speechless whenever you're with him?

Warnings: CEO!KMG x CEO!Reader, enemies to ???, fubus undercover as rivals, cheating, slight voyeurism, jealous mingyu, he has no rights though lol, throat-fucking, face-fucking, dirty talk, mg is very vocal, belly bulge, throat bulge, oral (f & m receiving)

Mingyu would consider himself to be a pretty level headed person. Having been raised to become a bussiness man, patience was once of the key things that was taught to him— after all, good things come to those who wait. He'd implement this lesson pretty well for most of his 27 years of living, and so it is. Until you.

He doesn't know why but his patience runs on thin ice with you. Not that you were oblivious to it, you were practically skating on it doing flips and twirls whenever you want to shaving the ice as thin as possible. You were his enemy after all, it was your job to do so.

The spot for number will never be empty for as long as Mingyu lives, he swears on it. But he wasn't the only one who did so apparently. Both you and Mingyu were rivals for as long as possible, always competing with each other for as long as you've known each others name. From small quarrels, to board games, to sports, to school rankings, to games, and to now— company rankings.

An inevitable tension grew between the two of you, a new layer added to it's thickness every passing day. Everybody knew of it, both of you knew of it. Never has there been an interaction between the two of you that didn't made his nerves be at it's heights and your heart beat at it's quickest.

No eye contact was shared with each other without a special look that the two of you only have for one another. No skinship was shared with each other without the tight vice of his grip on you, so tight that if you weren't enemies you'd assume that he didn't wanted to let go of you. No words were shared between the two of you without a voice of taunt used to deliver it.

You hated each other. So fucking much. Mingyu had never hated anyone or anything in his life more than you. Everything related to you had him seething in anger and frustration. Your name, your face, your body, everything. Mingyu thought you've reached his limit of anger when you surpassed him once during your high school days, but it proves to be false as he watches you sit and be and lovely dovey with your so called boyfriend.

He had a crystal clear blue of the both of you from the balcony of the palace of which the event was held at. He should be happy, everything was for him after all. The party was thrown in celebration of a big deal sealed by him for his company. A partnership of which many would only dream of to achieve. He should be celebrating, sipping champagne and basking himself in the compliments of praises, but all was neglected the very second he saw you with your very own newly formed partnership.

Mental sirens were blaring in his mind as he watches the guys hand roam all over you. From your hands, to your hips, to your waist. His jaw was tense as he tsked before gulping down his drink. The hatred between the two of you stemmed from anger, but it always bloomed due to lust. The eve so calm and controlled Kim Mingyu now gone, all because of you. It's always been has only beenyou that has made him lose himself.

In almost of a blink of an eye, he was gone from the balcony and was stepping foot down to the dance floor, straight next to you. "How have you been enjoying yourself?" Mingyu asks standing tall beside you, both his hands in the pocket of his suit. Your eyes widen at his sudden presence, shifting a little as you try your best to maintain eye contact with him. You knew. Of course you do.

"We've been well. Thank you Mingyu, for asking." You say with a tight voice. Your face appeared as blank to others but it was a look that Mingyu knew all too well. It was your way of warning him.

He raised his eyebrows when he notices the hand of your boyfriend creep up around your waist. The very waist he was licking kissing, and bruising not even a week ago. He was more than sure that his handprints were still evident across your body. Especially the ones he'd repeatedly imprint on your ass. It relieves him in some way, he was sure that there was no way were you gonna have sex with your so called boyfriend with the ebidents of him all over your body.

A small but clearly cocky smirk appears on his face before he conceals it with a smile. With a blank face and muted mouth, you stare directly into his eyes using it as your way of communication. He does nothing but lean his head sideward, eyes staring right back at you.

To the eye of the public, this was seen as an interaction induced by your competition. To the eye of the public, you were sworn enemies, not wanting to be an inch nearer to each other than you were now, pushing each others button. What they didn't knew was behind the walls of Mingyu's very own penthouse— there was less than inch of space between the two of you, hands all over each others body, skin to skin, frantically undoing each others buttons.

He scans your body, head to toe, before giving a quick glance at the man beside you. "I'll see you around then." He says while looking eye to eye with the man. The depths of his words go far beyond the surface with a deep history that would shake the media. And no, it wasn't for your boyfriend despite having Mingyu having his eyes on him.

Giving both of you a tight lipped smile and a toast with his champagne glass, Mingyu turns around to leave taking a turn to a place far away from the crowd. You knew what this meant, this has happened so many tines before. Mingyu baiting you into coming with him, and it worked like a charm every damn time.

You followed his route, seizing the opportunity of your boyfriend being occupied in a conversation with someone else. Entering the corridor, you notice a door slightly ajar with a dim light inside. Assuming it was him, you opened the room and saw no one. Confused, you still continue to enter.

All the curtains were tied neatly to either side of the windows leaving the light to enter the room. A chandelier was attached to the ceiling but it only emitted very little. There was a sofa on either side of the room and a fireplace in the middle attached to the wall.

As you walk forward, you hear the door close behind you but noticed no click indicating that it wasn't locked. You turn around and was faced with none other than Mingyu. His perfume englufs the room as he takes steps towards you. "M- Mingyu.. " You stutter with a quivering voice, eyes wide as you take your own steps, but backwards until you fell backwards on the sofa.

Mingyu looks down at you holding your chin with his left hand while caressing your cheeks as he forces you to look up at him. "Tell me.. how did you two meet?" He asks tauntingly, keeping eye contact with you, holding your face in place thus forcing you to do the same.

His voice was stern yet soft. It was hard enough to be demanding, but soft enough for it to not feel threatening. Slowly, you recount the story of how you met your boyfriend.

"I met him through a friend, Ally introduced me to him, immediately he made a move on me–" Mingyu's hand wrap around your neck. "Go on.." He says with a blank face, voice still same as it was. You hesitated, but still went on not wanting to get him irritated with you.

"And I reciprocated.. he was funny and I thought why not give him a chance. I trust Ally and she wouldn't be friends with bad people. After that he asked for my number an–" Mingyu slips his thumb on your mouth leaving it open on that tone.

"You meet a guy once and you give him his number. Out of all the people in the world, you choose someone barely taller than you, a figure worse than your uncles, and a position not on par with yours." He spits out as he flattens his thumb on your tongue forcing it open.

You gulp unconsciously, eyes doe and wide at him with your hands now resting on his hips. Mingyu hathers his saliva before spits directly in your mouth— and just like clockwork— you swallow immediately before he suddenly kisses you. It was hard, messy, and sloppy.

He had his hand gripping your neck with his thumb resting on your throat, slowly obstructing your airway as he chokes you while his free hand was undoing his pants open before pulling away to leave you panting and breathless. His boxers now coming to face you with his dick standings so tall it's peeking above the cloth.

"To say that I'm disappointed would be an under statement." Mingyu mutters, fully taking his rock hard dick out and using it to slap your cheeks twice. The sound echoes the room and you whimper at him.

You didn't knew why you weren't lashing out on him, why you weren't disobeying and saying no. Your words hold weight above him, a single 'no' is all it takes for you to leave. And yet you don't. You sit still and take it all.

Aiming to open your mouth to speak, a gasp was all that's let out before he rests his cock on your tongue. It was heavy, you can feel it weighing your mouth down. Mingyu smirks as he taps his cock on your tongue, slowly and lightly thrusting forward as he slides it down yout throat.

He slides his right hand to your head holding it in place while his left rests around your throat before he begins to pick up his pace beginning to fuck your mouth. You feel the tip of his dick slide in and out of your throat creating a bulge that Mingyu was feeling with his hands, harshly rubbing on it everytime it bumps.

"What a beautiful throat wasted on the wrong man. Should've called him with you, he's missing out on a show." Mingyu utters with deep groans in between chuckling when he looks down to see your eyes slowly widen. "Dick so good you forget about everything hm? Thought you were a smart woman, where's that brain of yours now?" He follows.

Your eyes become glassy as you start to hold on to his hips in hopes of a slower pace. Mingyu halts his movements lodging his dick down your throat so deep that it creates a bulge. Moving his hands from your body, he removes his necktie before grabbing your wrist and placing them behind you tightly putting it in a tie together.

"Let's put that good memory of yours to use. 'M gonna make sure you and your body never forgets me. Gonna imprint my dick inside you, rearrange your guts and organs in a way that no other dick can feel good inside because it's perfectly molded for me." Mingyu promises, sliding out your mouth.

You were a sight to see. Mouth wide open with a mix of saliva and pre-cum dripping out, chest heaving up and down, a dazed look on your face, tears ruining your makeup, and your hands tied behind your back.

The thought of anyone but Mingyu seeing you in this state sends fury to his veins making them pop. Only he can make you like this, only he has the right. The only man that has ever and the only man that ever will. He swears on that.

"Where did this dress come from? Did he gave this to you? Chose it for you? Bought it for you?" Mingyu questions you, making you look up at him with his index finger on your chin, an eye brow raised. Slowly, you begin to nod at him. Your boyfriend did all three. The dress came from him.

You didn't need to tell Mingyu that because the second he saw an upward movement of your head, the dress was ripped off your body, thrown somewhere in the room. The sight that befalls before him angers him more. You were wearing a red lingerie. Mingyu's favourite color.

Immediately laying you down on your back, he bends down to leave hickeys all over your body. Especially on the areas you always warned him not to. And as per usual, you do nothing but sit there and take it. Mingyu was too good, it was dangerous.

Tearing down your panties with his teeth and ripping it halfway of removing it, he dives in immediately salvitating your dripping pussy. You were so wet it was unfathomable. Mingyu was practically slurping down on your juices as you withered and shaked below him. His hands grip the circumference of your waist holding you down while he licks and flicks your cunt.

"Min- gyu.. Mingy... Mingyu... Mingyu... plea... please.. sir... daddy... please.." You beg, body rolling on his mouth. "Please what baby?" Mingyu replies looking up at you, mouth still attatched on your cunt. "H.. hands.." You whimper, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he intensifies his movements. All it took was just one single slip of his finger inside you to get you squirting on him.

"Fuck yeah baby, let it out, all for me. Only for me." Mingyu moans rapidly flicking his finger inside you making you bend your body like crazy and moaning so loudly. He takes his finger out but rubs his thumb on your bud still stimulating you.

With your legs propped up against his chest, your ankles near his neck, he slides his dick inside your pussy, moaning out immediately as he feels you suck him in. "Perfect fucking fit." He moans before rapidly thrusting inside of you.

With your hands tied behind yout back, all you could do was to bend your body up and down while he fucks you like crazy. The combination of Mingyu's thumb flicking your clit while hitting your G-spot at every thrust was making you shake like crazy, producing sounds only heard on certain websites.

Mingyu rests hands on your belly bulge formed by his cock quickly disappearing and reappearing before leaning down to kiss and bite all over your body, as if his mess earlier wasn't enough.

He leans near your ear, hips and hands still at the same quick pace as he whispers: "Tell me... has he ever made you feel this good? Hm? Made you make these sounds? Make you go this insane?" He pauses, slowing down his movements and straightening his posture.

You gasp, eyes widening as you whimper at him. "Answer me." He commands. You quickly shake your head no, doing your best to maintain eye contact with him without rolling your eyes back as you feel the tip of his dick put pressure on your g-spot.

"That's right. No one ever will. Wanna know why? Hm? Darling?" Mingyu hums, languidly thrusting forward as he leans on you again. His hands now gripping the back of the sofa, biceps flexing with defined veins. "Because nobody is better than me." He says, thrusting after every word. "I'm the best you'll ever have." He whispers in your face before rapidly starting to thrust again.

It only took a thrust and a half for you to start squirting and shaking harder than before. Mingyu was relentless as he continued his hip movements taking advantage of your wetness. Deciding to have some mercy, he pulls on his tie releasing your hands from it's vice into which you reacted to by frantically holding onto his wrist as you orgasmed.

You knew your was still long as you've come to realize that he hasn't even cummed yet. Mingyu wraps your legs around his torso as he picks you up. He stands in the middle of the room, in front of the mirror above the fireplace before turning you around so you'd come face to face with your own reflection.

You looked like a mess, as you always were every after meet up with him. He rapidly began thrusting in you again, holding your legs apart, watching his dick disappear into your cunt with the only sign of it's presence inside you is the bulge in his stomach and your never ending moans.

"Who's making you feel this good?" He whispers in yout eye keeping his stare on your reflection. "Mingyu.. " You moan out throwing your head back on his shoulders while grinding your hips as he thrusts harshly on your g-spot. "Only Mingyu," You whisper in his ear in between your helpless moans.

Mingyu starts to walk again, this time towards the window at the other side of the fireplace. He puts you on your feet making sure to support your hody to keep you from falling before beginning to move his hips again. And if you thought he couldn't reach any deeper, you were proven so damn wrong when you feel the tip of his dick slowly protrude your cervix.

"Gonna get in there and cum baby. Gonna mark you mine. Only mind. You'd look so good filled with me." He groans in your ear, gripping your wrist as you cling onto the window. "All it takes is one look up for the people to see how much of a whore you are for me. It'd be a perk if your little boy toy saw you look this, it's a sight he nor anyone but me will never ever be able to replicate." He follows thrusts now harder snd deeper than before.

Your ass jiggles against his hips urging him to slap it, grip it, and mark it his before turning you around agian to face him. The consistency of his movements now long gone as he raises you up pressing you harshly against the window.

You've gone cockdumb, just like always, nothing but a fleshlight to him, bending you in ways he pleases. You don't know how, but everything about you seems to be turned upside down when you're with Mingyu. You're quick witted and cocky attitude long gone as you gets stuffed with his dick.

Only his dick. No one elses.

It doesn't take long for you to cum again, and for the first time this whole evening, Mingyu cums as well, immediately after you. Resting your forehead against each other, you engage in a sloopy yet soft kiss as you calm down from your highs.

The moonlight shine reflects on his sweaty skin as he pulls away, chest heaving as he stares down at you. With the two of you still connected to each other, he sits on the sofa, legs spread wide making you straddle him. You lean on Mingyu's chest resting your cheeks on his abs taking this moment to rest.

You were far from done. You both knew that, this was only prep for what's about to become. Mingyu reaches for his phone on the floor and as he does he looks over to your own phone that starts to ring. The caller ID showed the word 'Boyfriend' on it.

Mingyu takes yours instead and without any second thoughts, he pressed the big green button to answer it's call. With you still sitting on his lap, he presses your phone against your ear holding an intense eye contact with you.

You gasp in shock as you hear your boyfriends voice on the phone, but this was prolonged by Mingyu as he slowly starts to rub on your clit again with a dirty smirk on his face.

"Go on.. answer him." He jeers, voice low and husky. "H.. hEy," You say ovrer the phone, voice raspy due to all your screaming and moaning. "I've been doing all the talking so far, wouldn't it be unfair if I didn't gave you a chance?" He teases you with a playful grin on his face.

You were still extremely sensitive, it hadn't even been fifteen minutes sibce your first round. But Mingyu doesn't seem to care as he grabs your hips to roll you on his dick. You helplessly follow with a limp body, you had no energy to move.

Oh this was going to be a long, long night.

[furuu]

꒰ ♡ ꒱ continuation of this drabble!

∘ʚ ♡ Sukuna's tiny blob form trembled slightly as he tested the new mouth he'd formed, frustrated that even this minor accomplishment felt like a monumental task in his current state. His jagged little mouth opened and closed a few times, as if trying to get used to the sensation. He could barely manage coherent speech, let alone a proper threat, and your oblivious, adoring expression didn’t make it any easier.

"I… I'll destroy you," he croaked again, though the words came out more like a tired sigh than a warning. His once menacing tone, feared by even the most powerful sorcerers, had been reduced to something far too soft, far too… pet-like.

You were still crouched next to him, your face hovering inches away from his small, squishy body. Instead of recoiling in fear or even acknowledging his so-called threat, you simply giggled, reaching out to stroke his markings with a tenderness that made Sukuna’s single eye twitch.

"You're doing so well!" you said with an amused smile. "Look at you, forming a mouth and everything! Such a big step for a little blob!"

If Sukuna could’ve scowled, he would’ve. He wasn't some infant learning how to speak; he was the King of Curses! And yet, here you were, treating him like a child taking their first steps. It was maddening. He opened his mouth to issue another threat, but the words caught in his throat as you gently cupped him in your hands, lifting him as if he were made of delicate glass.

He braced himself for the worst. Surely, he should have loathed this—being handled like a plush toy, pressed against your soft palms. But instead, a warmth spread through his small, cursed body, and for a fleeting moment, Sukuna felt something disturbingly close to comfort. He tried to shake it off, tried to remind himself that this was beneath him, but the softness of your hands made it difficult to focus on anything other than how… pleasant it felt.

You noticed his faint twitching and smiled down at him with that familiar, adoring look. "Poor thing, you're all squirmy now. Do you want to rest? Maybe you're still growing into your new form?"

Sukuna's pride bristled at your words, but he couldn't deny that he was feeling a strange sort of exhaustion. As much as he hated to admit it, regaining his cursed energy—even in small amounts—was taking a toll on him. He wasn’t used to being so… vulnerable. It was humiliating, but for the time being, he had no choice but to allow you to continue your unrelenting doting.

"I don’t… need your help," Sukuna muttered, his voice low and raspy. It wasn’t the mighty growl he wanted, but rather a tired grumble.

You gently placed him back onto the soft blanket you’d laid out for him earlier. He sank into the fabric, his tiny form almost disappearing into the folds. "Of course you don’t," you cooed, brushing your fingers lightly over his surface. "But I’m going to help anyway. You're just too cute."

"Cute…?" Sukuna repeated, as though the word had physically hurt him. "I’m… not… cute…"

You laughed again, a sweet sound that filled the room. "You are, though. Look at you. All tiny and grumpy." You leaned down to rest your chin on your hands, looking at him with a soft smile. "And you’re mine. So, I’m going to take care of you whether you like it or not."

Sukuna's singular red eye flickered with a flash of indignation. "I am not… yours. I am Ryomen Sukuna. The King of Curses!" he growled, though the effect was ruined by how much effort it took to speak. His tiny mouth barely moved, and instead of sounding intimidating, he came off more like a petulant child throwing a tantrum.

You tilted your head, clearly amused. "Ryomen, huh? Well, it looks like you need some rest. And maybe a snack. You didn’t eat much today."

"I don’t need food!" Sukuna snapped, or rather, squeaked. The tiny, high-pitched sound that came out of his mouth was anything but intimidating.

"Sure you don’t," you said with a grin, placing a small bowl of fruit beside him. "But just in case you change your mind, it’s here."

Sukuna huffed, turning his eye away from you in a weak attempt to regain some semblance of his former dignity. But you weren’t deterred. You sat back on the bed, watching him with that same affectionate look that had begun to chip away at the iron walls he had once built around his heart.

For a moment, there was silence. Sukuna closed his eye, trying to block out the warmth and comfort that your presence brought. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He shouldn’t be letting you take care of him, not when he was supposed to be ruling over everything. Yet, despite his inner turmoil, the softness of the blanket, the gentle rise and fall of your breathing, and the warmth that surrounded him—it was hard to fight it all.

He peeked his eye open, watching you as you hummed a little tune to yourself, seemingly content just to be near him. It was strange. For so long, Sukuna had been feared, hated, and worshiped, but never… never had anyone cared for him like this. Not in a way that felt so genuine, so gentle.

He didn’t want to admit it, but a small part of him—one he would deny to his last breath—was growing attached to you. The way you handled him with such care, the way you spoke to him like he was a friend, not a monster. It was disarming, and Sukuna hated it… or at least, he wanted to hate it.

"You… are an idiot," Sukuna mumbled, his voice losing its edge, barely audible.

You blinked, surprised by the quietness in his tone. "What was that?"

He hesitated, then sighed, letting himself sink a little deeper into the blanket. "You’re… an idiot," he repeated, softer this time. "Caring for something that would destroy you without a second thought. Foolish human…"

You paused for a moment, looking at him with a gentle, knowing expression. Then, with a soft smile, you brushed your hand over his small form again. "Maybe I am," you said quietly, your voice filled with warmth. "But I think you’ve already had plenty of chances to destroy me. And yet, here we are."

Sukuna's lone eye flickered, narrowing slightly. "I’m just biding my time," he grumbled, though the threat lacked conviction. "When I regain my power…"

You laughed softly, cutting him off in the most disarming way. "Sure, sure. You’ll regain your power, and then what? Tear me apart? Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to happen."

"Don’t get cocky," Sukuna growled, trying to muster more force behind the words. But even he could hear how weak the threat sounded. His voice had lost the venom it once carried, softened by the strange, inexplicable comfort of your presence.

You tilted your head, smiling softly down at him. "Maybe it’s foolish of me, but I don’t think you’re as heartless as you want me to believe. If you were, you wouldn’t be letting me do this." Your fingers gently stroked his smooth surface, tracing the black markings that had once inspired fear in so many.

Sukuna twitched, both annoyed and begrudgingly soothed by the touch. "I could destroy you in an instant if I wanted to," he muttered, though he wasn’t even sure he believed it anymore.

You leaned closer, your expression warm and soft. "I know," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "But you won’t."

Sukuna fell silent, his single red eye watching you, as though searching for something—maybe a reason, maybe a flaw in your belief. But there was nothing. You were unwavering, and for the first time in his long, cursed existence, Sukuna found himself wondering if perhaps you were right.

Perhaps… just maybe… he wouldn’t.・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

taglist: @laraackerman @xyinparadise @katsukis-s @himboelover @lemonlimecrystal-blog

[webism]

KINKTOBER DAY THREE: bondage with nanami.

kinktober masterlist

Nanami, your other half, is meticulous and an overbearing perfectionist on the best of days. You love it about him, love the way that when it comes to you, everything has to be perfect to no fault. You love his dedication to the simplest of things, his attention to detail, you love his patience.

You don't love it when he's using said perfectionism to prolong your time being tied up. You see it in his pretty eyes, that knowing look—he's not taking his time for the sake of perfection, he's taking the time to perv on those frustrated whines that you let out the longer he takes.

Your wrists are bound at your front, a soft shibari rope wrapped around your skin. He had picked it out himself, opted for a more expensive option as it was less likely to irritate your skin—after all, you're being bound to further enjoy yourself, not to decorate your skin with marks he'd much rather leave with his mouth.

Still, he works on the rope around your waist with no sign of eagerness or a rush towards completion. Instead, he continues to watch your body in what looks like a clinical examination, hands working gracefully as he knots the rope against your skin and builds a harness, no doubt good to hold onto so you can't start to shift away once thinks become overbearing. You sit on your shared bed, eyes heavy and stuck on his face as he works—calculated ministries become just a little quicker as you pout.

"Ken," you whine, subconsciously trying to pry your wrists apart to grab at your lover. Your fingers find nothing but air, your arms bound, rendering you useless.

"I'm almost done," he says calmly, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. He finishes before any other complaints can leave your lips, though you suspect he could have been finished fifteen minutes ago if the sight of rope against your bare skin didn't send blood right down to his cock.

He stands back from where he's working with satisfaction, a pleased look in his eyes that makes you want to squirm, wanting to crawl into his lap and beg forgiveness for whatever you might have done wrong in your past life if it means he'll just fuck you already. But you keep your head up, eyes set on his.

Your legs are bound thigh-to-calf, your throbbing cunt forced onto display by your bindings—if Kento were a worse man he'd leave you like this, bound with a vibrator against your pretty clit for hours on end as he files some paperwork or catches up on the novel he's been reading.

And although the thought is enticing, turning your moans and drawling orgasms into ambient music for the house you share, he's a selfish man at heart and could never deprive himself of you—not when you're like this.

"I think you're beautiful, my love," he leans over you, brushing a cool knuckle over your warmed cheek. A flush spreads across your cheeks, warmth blooming in your belly. His touch doesn't last long, his hand trailing off your shoulder and dipping down to tug at the rope that twists around your torso.

"You're perfect, you know that?" He tries again, and pulls so hard on your rig that your back meets the mattress and, all of a sudden, your Kento is hovering over you, cock hard against his slacks. "And you know that I love you."

"I know," you nod.

His hands fumble for his belt, and he's hooking his cock out of his pants in the same breath—too eager to fully undress. "I appreciate your trust in me," he tugs at a rope around your thigh to get you just that little bit closer to him; you can feel the heavy weight of his length against your stomach—and he can see just how deep inside of you he will be soon enough, "Though I fear seeing you tied up like this… it makes it hard to be gentle with you, love."

You lean up to kiss his jaw, his lips, anything you and reach while bound so intently. "I don't need you to be gentle with me. I am at your disposal."

Something in your lilt breaks the band of resistance that holds your lover still—he groans as he presses forward, pushing into you without any preamble. You're beyond wet, he hardly feels bad for not prepping you on his tongue beforehand. He has plans of ruining you with his mouth once he's fucked you full of him. "How can I possibly deny you?"

As he bottoms out inside of you, Kento grabs the rope that binds your wrist and lifts them above your head, pressing them into the sheets and rendering you completely motionless. Try as you might, you can't move an inch—you're entirely at his lust-glossed mercy. "That's better, hm? Much easier now, yes?" He pushes deeper into you, grunting out as he fills you in. "You don't have to think, don't have to move, you don't have to anything but take me."

The words are familiar to you—you've heard them hundreds of times before. In the throes of ecstasy, they sound like a lullaby to you—though this time there's some truth to his words. A genuine lack of need to move, to speak, to try and keep your hips at pace with his. As Nanami pulls back, drags his aching cock out of you before rutting right back into your tight core, you're able to completely relinquish control.

And god is it narcotic. The ruthless pace that he sets, muscles that cord his arms keep you in place as he bullies his cock into you. His mean thrusts are occasionally broken up with an open-mouthed kiss to your waiting lips, though the world is spinning too fast for you to register much other than raw, undiluted pleasure. You barely have the voice to announce your orgasm, let alone ask for permission to cum, so when your orgasm wracks through you like tropical waves against a cliffside, your lover can't help but bite at your exposed neck in feigned disappointment.

"Oh, love," he coos, but doesn't slow the roll of his hips even slightly. "You know I don't like it when you don't use your words."

You can't, not with the way he's fucking a second orgasm into you before you've even recovered from your first. Not when you're bound so tight that you know you have no way out of his ministries, not that you want one. You haven't felt so blissed-out in a long time, and there is no place safer to lose your mind than in Kento's arms. Though there's a dangerous lilt to his voice when he leans own, thrusts sharp into your overstimulated pussy, and whispers against your ear. "You're going to wait, and you're going to cum alongside me, love."

It's all too much, your vision is near-white with hot pleasure and you worry that you'll never think a straight thought again if he keeps rendering you dumb like this. You try desperately to climb up the bed, away from his overwhelming size, but he's got an iron-wraught grip on your bindings. "Ah," he chides. "Don't run, take me- I know you can."

The moans that rip from your throat are made for porn, especially in conjuncture with his groans and bitten praises. It's not long before his ruthless pace starts to falter, and the slap of skin against bruising skin starts to stutter as your lover reaches climax.

"With me," he chokes, the hand that had held your wrists up finally falling down to rub relentless circles over your sensitive clit. You're overwhelmed, orgasm cresting almost painfully as your mind blanks and you come harder than you think you ever have before. Nanami releases inside of you, his free hand holding you as close as humanly possible through your bindings.

And once he's cum, stolen a few breaths to steady himself enough to lift himself up and look down at you, Kento Nanami fears he might be a bad man. Because with the way you look, tear stained cheeks and complete lack of freedom, he can't help the words that slip from his lips.

"You can handle another, can't you, love?"

tags: @medusamara5 @echodead @aliisinwonderland @curiositykilledthecatx3 @hirainne

@plinkuro @sooouth @megumiiiswife @nyxiswrites1200 @yveiscringe

@sharks31 @lenahathunger @aydene @dreamyokai @n0tviv

@chiiinglebells @timetoletmyimaginationfly @nayely45 @waffless-simp-blog

@zoozvie @gothicchildofthenight @repnights @flwerie @soundofraindropss

@ushijimas1simp @aliidarling @aeswin @peachygelic @silvermet

@rinadisapproves @theshxaverse @cipher00 @milkkteary @snackeyalleyjuice

@cvipped @toadtoru @keiette @satosugu4-ever

@sugurubabe @wickedpoison6 @simp-plague @tojis-ball-sack @ventila98

@xxbookdrunkdemigodxx @oikawasthirdleg @yogichi @theycallmesia

@kdrama-anna @vurelliex @anonnieghost @tadabzzzbee

@luvofbows @crywolfix @hhonaoin @gigiiiiislife @aviesnapkindoodles

@ninikrumbs @bijuu-naginata @baekhyunsbestie @grimmshold @dalnimmie

@domainexpansionmypants @5tarx @1depressedsimp @beachaddict48 @jadeis0nline

@sukunasbbygrl @luna-v-roiya @sukunaspillow @starsval @vamqyx

@laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @mermaid-jewels @sugusmonkeyy @sammywo @noyaskneepad

@astrideverstar @lordchula-thagrandrula @chuuminn @angel1of-death @flooftoof

@rumi-rants @dysphoricsanity @coolcephalopod @satoruslxt @xoxo1mira

@whosmarjj @kikosaidbye @iceddragonfruit @amisuh @lotties-ashwagandha

[theosbaby]

Brother’s best friend!theodore smut please!! Super soft!dom Theo where he makes LOVE to reader. Perhaps shy!reader as well??

thank you so much for your request! i really loved this idea. i'm sorry that it took me so long to write this, but i've running low of inspiration lately. i hope you like it babe!

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ casually thinking about...

brother's bsf!theo taking your virginity

NSFW content ahead, +18

you can't believe you're actually making out with the theodore nott, sprawled on your brother's bed with theo between your spread thighs. his lips are avidly kissing yours, playful tongue delving inside your warm mouth as his hands roam over your gorgeous curves, fingers gripping your sides to tug you as closer to him as possible, not leaving even an inch between your bodies.

and you swear you're on cloud nine.

you're whimpering so prettily into his mouth, your body arching against his while you grasp his dark t-shirt between your slender fingers, the sweet flavor of your chocolate birthday cake still lingering on your plump lips as you return the messy kiss with equal fervour. the act is almost sinful —you're mattheo's little sister, for god's sake. not that he cares about it right now, anyways, not when your body molds itself so perfectly to his, like you were made for each other.

theo groans into the kiss, his hands sliding down to your backside to hoist you up against him. you gasp against his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist, and you feel him grinding against the junction of your thighs, his own breath hitching as he feels your warmth through his jeans.

your pretty cheeks flush at the intimate contact between your heated bodies, your lips becoming sloppier as you struggle to keep up with him. this is the first time you're actually making out with a guy like this, and you're feeling embarrassed, nervous and excited all at once, which is kinda overwhelming.

he'd notice how your body slightly tenses beneath him. not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable, he slides his hands back to your hips to give them a gentle squeeze, trying to reassure you. he doesn't want to rush you if you're not ready —but oh how bad he wants to fuck you.

the kiss comes to an end, leaving you panting against his swollen lips, agitated. the way you find his deep set, blue eyes looking down at you when you open yours, makes you feel weak on your knees, the blush on your face deepening. he gives you a lopsided smile, his eyes glazed with lust as he brushes your long, soft hair out of your beautiful face.

"you okay, pretty girl ?" he'd ask, his voice husky, just to make sure you're not regretting what's happening. "are you enjoying this?"

the pet name he gives you makes you smile. "yeah," you whisper coyly in response, nodding slightly while your pearly white teeth sink into your bottom lip, which is a bit swollen from all the kissing.

"good," he murmurs against your mouth, "because i'm really enjoying it too." he pauses, his breath warm against your lips. "i was thinking maybe we could... you know... take things a little further?" he leans in and starts kissing your neck softly. "would you like that?

your heart starts hammering in your chest at his words, butterflies fluttering about crazily in your tummy, but you tilt your head to the side to give him better access to your throat despite your nervousness.

"we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with, okay?" he reassures you softly, his hands squeezing your waist soothingly.

he continues planting gentle kisses on your neck, feeling you relax little by little against him. you let out a sigh, eyelids fluttering shut.

"i wanna do it," you admit, not being able to look into his eyes as you do, blushing, "just... don't tell anyone about this, my brother can't know."

you feel him smirking against your throat as he stops rhe gentle kisses, cupping your face to make you look at him; there's sincerity in his eyes as he says, "i won't, pretty girl."

"pinky promise?"

you'd extend your pinky, waiting for him to intertwine his finger with yours. theo smirks as he tenderly rubs the tip of his nose against your cheek, and he tangles his pinky with yours. "i promise."

he keeps kissing you for a bit more, caressing you over your clothes and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, before he starts undressing you with such care, as if he's afraid of breaking you. and you look so pretty while you're naked beneath him, just like a precious doll.

then, he'd spread your creamy thighs and ask for permission to touch you, eager to get his hands on that gorgeous pussy of yours, which is fucking soaked just for him, your juices dripping down your pink slit and onto mattheo's sheets —that fact has him painfully hard inside his pants. is he a perv? probably.

he's taking his time preparing you, thumb rubbing your puffy clit in tight circles while he plunges his thick, long fingers in your pussy. you're so fucking tight he struggles to push the first one in without hurting you, but after a few minutes, you're taking two of them like a champ, completely soaking his hand in your arousal when you finally cum on it.

theo can't take it anymore, seeing you so flustered and hearing your sweet little moans have him on the verge of bursting in his pants like a bloody teenager, so he withdraws his digits to start taking his clothes off too, and you whine at the loss. but the feeling of emptiness doesn't last long, soon he's pushing his thick cock inside your little cunt.

you're so slick that he slides in pretty easily despite the resistance of your tight walls, his dick stretching you a lot wider than his fingers. and it hurts a bit, but it's a sweet pain that has you whimpering as you beg for more. after a few thrusts, you're cock drunk underneath him, nails digging into his back and leaving scratches that he'll have to hide from your brother for the next few days.

he actually gets you to cum on his dick too, pussy milking him so good that he doesn't even have time to pull out. he spills inside you with a whimper, pounding sloppily into your spasming cunt to ride his orgasm as he stuffs you full of his cum.

more.

[jaewritesfic]

Melon!AU Part 3

The creature's surprise surprises everyone else.

“It understands English?” Dick asks with a thoughtful tone lacing his voice.

“Or recognizes the motion of the wave as something benign,” Damian proposes, tense as a live wire as he keeps eagle eyes on Cass below.

Cass raises her hands, and though she does so slowly no amount of surprise keeps the creature from restarting that odd, piercing warning sound.

“Don't be afraid,” she says slowly and clearly, her hands moving to sign the words as she speaks. “I'm a friend.”

Despite there being no iris or pupil to be found in those glowing eyes, the way they dart back and forth between her hands and her mask is clear to see.

It doesn't stop growling, but it does shift uneasily. 

Cass's hands move to sign without speaking.

Do you understand me?

Nothing, save for the flicking of bottomless eyes.

“Do you understand me?”

The creature twitches, like being asked such a thing is a surprise. It takes a long moment - as if the question must be some kind of trap - before its head jerks in a jittery, hesitant nod.

More than one person's breath catches audibly over comms.

The set of Cass's shoulders softens in a way that telegraphs a smile, one that can't be seen past her mask.

“Nice to meet you,” she says with her voice.

Knows English but not sign, she says with her hands.

Smart girl. With that knowledge she can sign to the Bats without the creature realizing her hands are saying anything different than her mouth.

As soon as nice to meet you spills into the open air, the creature stops growling. For something with such an inhuman, blank face it telegraphs shock and confusion loudly.

Actually, it…it's almost like Bruce can feel those things himself, like something brushing against the base of his brain. It's disturbing and fascinating all at once.

Perhaps the feelings of dread and disturbance being near it causes is more than just fear of the unknown.

If it can project its own feelings, can it also sense theirs? Bruce isn't sure how he feels about that idea.

“Are you hurt?”

Definitely guarding chest. Bleeding.

“Bleeding?” Tim asks. 

“Chest hurts?”

Bleeding green.

“It's bleeding the Lazarus water?” Tim hisses. 

“I'm sorry,” Jason's voice cuts in on comms. “Your creature is bleeding what now?”

“Unconfirmed, but the color is similar,” Bruce says.

Jason is on standby, gracious enough to be patrolling a little further than his usual to cover the gaps while they deal with whatever this is.

Gracious is actually a stretch considering the choice words he'd had about the request when asked. Still, the protests had been more routine than truly venomous.

Bruce suspects he's mostly displeased with not being on site if his siblings need him in the face of a total unknown.

“Do you need help?” Cass's voice rings out softly again.

Doesn't want to admit injury.

“A doctor?”

There are flinches all around as that finally gathers a marked reaction, and a negative one. The sound is like nails on a chalkboard, like a million light bulb filaments breaking and fizzling out. The cadence is odd, almost like the creature is trying to speak.

“No doctor! Okay, no doctor. It's okay.”

Afraid. Terrified.

The sound stutters out again, that odd feeling against the base of Bruce's skull and the wide eyes of the creature projecting confusion and disbelief over the easy acquiescence. 

This is not an entity that expects to have its desires or fears cared about. Bruce has a bad feeling it's an expectation borne from experience.

Once again, he thinks with a sick feeling about the fact that he hadn't stopped to consider the creature might be reasoned with until Cass stepped in.

“Can I come closer?”

The creature whines as if it's a frightened stray, not a shadowy nightmare. Its claws click against the pavement in a manner that feels distinctly nervous. 

“Please? I won't hurt you.”

Tired. Can't go for much longer and knows it.

They all watch closely as the creature's eyes flicker up and towards the line of police cruisers and officers at the very end of the alley, then back to Cass.

Its claws keep clicking. 

The pool of green below it might be bigger, or it might just be the new knowledge that the substance is like blood messing with Bruce's nerves.

“I'm coming over. Slow. I won't hurt you.”

Weighing their options. Either me or cops. Knows that too.

True to her word, Cass moves slowly.

The creature's tail lashes and it grumbles its unrest, but it doesn't snarl like before and it doesn't lash out even when she's certainly close enough for those long spindly arms to reach.

Cass sinks to her knees just feet from it, posture intentionally open. Carefully, she offers another wave and a pleased, “Hello. See? All okay.”

Bruce's heart seizes. For just a moment, the wide glowing eyes angled to look up at Cass read as painfully young. Like a frightened child.

“You need help,” Cass almost whispers, hands laying on her thighs in plain sight. “No doctors, I know. But maybe a safe place? Come with me?”

Surely the comms have never been so silent as they are while Cass turns her hands over and extends them, like she's inviting the creature to place its own in her palms.

“Keep you safe. I promise.”

For a long few moments, the creature is so silent and still it may well have frozen in time.

Then there's a mourning keen that nearly buckles Bruce at the knees and the creature is moving. 

Instead of taking her hands, it drags itself forward and grabs at her to a chorus of panicked shouts on the comms. So quickly nobody has time to react, it's dragged itself up to cling to her shoulders and bury its face in her neck.

The shadowy frame trembles when she holds it in return.

Masterpost