#and not enough words to express it properly

[kikidoul]

── BREEDING KINK.

໒꒰ྀི ^ ⸝⸝ ^ ꒱ྀིა 이희승 x fem! reader content established+married relationship ᥫ᭡ warning not proofread explicit sexual content petnames used belly bulge breeding kink implied marathon sex squirting lmk if i miss anything else . . .!? 694 — mlist. req

note. LMAO i ran out of ideas for coming up with a title! wrote this in one sitting and i think this is ASS. taglist. @tfwbluu @heesimps

You weren’t sure how long you’ve been like this—pinned against the dirtied sheets of your bed. The bedframe kept hitting the wall at a steady interval. You were certain you would be getting a noise complaint the very next day, but the thought flew out of your mind the moment Heeseung’s cock hit the spot that made you see stars. Your eyes rolled up, breathless moans and whimpers fell from your lips. The room was filled with the lewd and obscene sound of skin against skin along with your pleasured sounds. 

“Ngh, H-Hee, to-too much, please,” you sobbed, gripping onto the pillow for dear life—as if it was your lifeline. The poor pillow was soaked with your tears and drool. 

Heeseung paid no mind to your words, focused on pushing you to your next orgasm. You didn’t know how many times you’ve cum. Was it two? Or three? But it didn’t matter in the first place, not when your husband was filled with the thought of pumping you full with his cum. He leaned down, his larger figure completely hiding yours from the ceiling light of your bedroom. He pulled you up slightly so he could rest his hand on the faint but evident bulge, poking out from your stomach. 

He gently pressed down, savoring the choked moan you let out. 

“You’re taking me so well and so deep, princess. It’s like you’re asking me to pump you full and make you carry my child. Do you want that, hm?” He coos, voice dripping honey as he whispers into your ears, as if he was telling you a secret that no one else can know. 

“P-Please,” you slurred, too dazed out to articulate your words properly. Seeing how you were reduced to a mess made your husband grinned. 

“Please what?” He teases. 

“Please.. give me m-more,” you begged, too far gone to think straight. 

And who was Heeseung to say no to his pretty girl? 

He pulled out without warning, ignoring the sound of protest you made as he flipped you around so you were now on your bed. This way, he could see and admire the expression you make. Heeseung shoved his cock back in, savoring the high-pitched moan you let out, wasting no time in pounding into you. He ducked his head, leaving kisses on your neck as he sucked and licked your skin, leaving hickeys behind. 

You raised your legs, spreading them wider so he could slide in deeper, mouth parted in a silent ‘O’ as you felt him practically kissing your cervix with the new angle. Heeseung on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty you’ll look carrying his child. He could see it in his mind—you lovingly looking down at the baby bump on your stomach, caressing it with a gentle, heartwarming smile on your face. Just the thought of that was enough to make him feral. 

“Fuck, gonna make you take it. Take, every, single, drop,” he groaned, punctuating his words with hard thrusts to your poor hole, eliciting whimpers from you. 

With your next orgasm coming, Heeseung’s hand snaked down, rubbing your overly-sensitive clit in frantic circles. You outright wailed, no longer having the energy to push him away. All you could do was lay there, taking what he was giving you. You were completely at his mercy—just the way he likes it. All it took was one final thrust and that was all it took for you to tip over the edge. Warm, transparent liquid was ejected from your clit. 

Some landed on the sheets while some landed on your bodies, joining in the already created mess from the previous multiple rounds. Your legs twitched from the intensity of your orgasm as you laid there, pliant and exhausted. 

“Heeseung!” You whined, flinching as you felt his fingers pushing his cum back into your greedy hole. You anxiously gulped when his eyes darkened, focused on how some were dripping out. 

“Think you can go for another round? We don’t want it to go to waste, do we?” He grinned and you knew you’ll be having trouble walking properly for the next few days, or weeks… 

[kkentobox]

you’re an amazing writer!

sfw abc’s?

feel free to delete, no pressure!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀SFW ABC LIST! W/ JSCHLATT.

author’s note: thank you so much, my love! i hope i did you proud with this one <3 we got a gender neutral reader here! we also have a ted nivison nsfw and sfw abc list coming soon 😼 reblogs & likes are always appreciated! remember, do not steal or plagiarize any work belonging to kkentobox !

A + AFFECTION —- how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?

⠀⠀⠀⠀schlatt’s love languages are acts of service and quality time, i said what i said !! his affection always seems to revolve around those two, with the sprinkle of physical touch. he’ll tie your shoe laces when they come undone without a word. he’ll surprise you with a food and binge watch your favorite shows. he’ll take candid photos of you with the cameras he always carries. he’ll carry you with ease if you’re tired after walking too long. he’ll give you his phone without a worry as to why you want it. his actions say a lot more than he could ever express with words.

B + BEST FRIEND —- what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?

⠀⠀⠀⠀the friendship definitely forms through social media and from the beginning he’d be a pain in the ass. from spamming your phone at late hours with videos or teasing you about literally anything you do, especially if you’re a content creator. he’s definitely someone you can rely on during tough times and someone you can immediately go to when things don’t work out; he’ll be nice enough to offer solutions before comforting you.

C + CUDDLE —- do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?

⠀⠀⠀⠀schlatt is a huge cuddler! though it took him a while to actually admit and accept it, he physically melts when he’s in your arms. he feels very natural spooning you, but he would never put up a fight to be cuddled by you. whether he’s lying on top of you with his head in your neck or chest or being a little spoon, he’ll have a goofy look on his face.

D + DOMESTIC —- they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?

⠀⠀⠀⠀schlatt being the classic american he is, does see himself settling down at some point. he doesn’t cook five star meals and has hired people to clean before, but he will step up his game for you if he sees a future with you. you’ll see him put more effort in grocery shopping with you, cleaning up the dishes if you cooked, accidentally getting on cleantok because he searched up helpful tips on cleaning.

E + ENDING —- if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

⠀⠀⠀⠀he’s a very serious man about stuff like this, but he’d be blunt about it. he wouldn’t drag things on or sugarcoat anything, he’d cut straight to the point and just say what he’s already decided. it would be in the bedroom or living room where he can sit and properly look at you. he’d talk about how he came to the decision, what he’s feeling and apologize for doing it, but not feeling very sorry about it because ultimately it’s how he feels.

F + FIANCE(E) —- how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?

⠀⠀⠀⠀schlatt is definitely someone who wants to take a relationship slow, he won’t put a ring on your finger in a year of being together. no longer than five years, but no earlier than two years for sure! something about him just gives off a very natural vibe, one where he kinda just lets everything fall into place on their own.

G + GENTLE —- how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

⠀⠀⠀⠀naturally with you, he’s very gentle with his physical touch. brushing your hair? he’s doing his best to not tug too harshly on the strands, kissing and whispering against your head if he accidentally hurt you. helping you with chores? he’ll roll up your sleeves or help you put your hair back. he’ll smooth over your clothes with soft hands in public without saying a word. often placing both of his palms against your cheeks to pucker up your lips, ready to place a lingering kiss.

⠀⠀⠀⠀emotionally, he tries his best to help you understand him. he knows how he is with communication and emotional intelligence, something he’s gotten better at since meeting you. though most of his emotions when it comes to you are always positive, there are moments where they aren’t; during those times, he still won’t take it out on you because he values your own wellbeing.

H + HUGS —- do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?

⠀⠀⠀⠀i KNOW his hugs are the best thing in the world. with how big and broad he is, his body would wrap around yours just perfectly, like it was meant to be held by him. i can actually see him holding you very often in the privacy of your home, his arms lazily wrapped around your waist all the time like they’re glued there. when he’s talking to you, nine times out of ten, he’s all up in your space with a hug.

I + I LOVE YOU —- how fast do they say the L-word?

⠀⠀⠀⠀seeing as how it takes him a while to process and fully understand his emotions, he would definitely take his time with saying the l-word. he would feel it early in the relationship, but would overthink how you actually feel so he’d hold off on saying it for months. he might actually wait until he feels like you guys have reached a serious point in the relationship, but would still end up saying it in a very comfortable environment. maybe snuggled up on the couch watching a movie or getting ready to go out.

J + JEALOUSY —- how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?

⠀⠀⠀⠀with feelings like his, he doesn’t always get jealous because normally you’re very quick to never let anything get to a point where it would make him jealous. but! let’s say he does get jealous for whatever reason, he doesn’t blame you ever. he’ll get a very strong urge to be possessive, give you a big kiss and grope you no matter if you’re in public. there are times where he just kind of wallows and gets quiet, feeling this ugly weight on his chest that doesn’t go away until you’ve given him enough kisses to get his mind off it.

K + KISSES —- what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?

⠀⠀⠀⠀schlatt’s kisses are always very sweet but firm, just like his love for you! his favorite place to kiss you is your forehead, the habit coming natural to him because of his cats. he seemingly enjoys whenever you press a kiss against his cheek, especially near his chops. there are times in public or for filming purposes when he tends to get a little vulgar with his kisses just to fluster you. on plenty occasions, he’ll open mouth kiss you and hold you tight against him so you won’t move.. those would be my favorite idk about you guys.

L + LITTLE ONES —- how are they around children?

⠀⠀⠀⠀we have all seen how he acts around children, the man is a complete natural when it comes to kids. he’s very gentle, knows how to keep them entertained & is more than capable of keeping up with their attention span. i can definitely see him getting baby fever really bad, but it being cut short if he sees their boogers or something </3

M + MORNINGS —- how are mornings spent with them?

⠀⠀⠀⠀i am a firm believer that he likes to hit the snooze button as many times as he can, always trying to get those last few minutes of sleep in. he’ll hold on tight to you if you like to get up earlier than him, he refuses to let you go so you really have to beg him. his rosy cheeks and sleepy eyes never fail to lure you back in to the cozy bed.

⠀⠀⠀⠀once he’s gotten in those few minutes, he still won’t actually leave the bed until his tired mind realizes you’ve actually left, then he’s quick to get up to find you. mornings are usually when he’s the most clingy, having the tendency of rest his entire body on you even when you’re busy doing something. cooking breakfast? he’s got his arms around you, back flush against his chest as he mumbles into your hair that you should come back to bed. doing work? he’s sitting on the floor beside you so he’s at perfect height to rest his head on your lap.

N + NIGHTS —- how are nights spent with them?

⠀⠀⠀⠀schlatt likes to unwind before bed, what he prefers? watching you from bed as you prepare yourself for the night. attentive eyes memorizing your skincare routine, resting against the headboard as you walk around the room. sometimes when he’s missed you throughout the day, he’ll stand right behind you in the mirror and help you apply everything. holding your hair back rather than letting you tie it up, cleaning up your arms when the water dribbles down them, etc.

⠀⠀⠀⠀when you guys finally end up in bed, there’s quiet mumbles against each other’s skin in the darkness. the final whispers of the other’s day and how it went, what the plans are for tomorrow. i don’t see him taking up too much space on the bed in terms of moving, he prefers to keep himself wrapped around your body and just stays there throughout the night; shifting to your body movement in his slumber.

O + OPEN —- how would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

⠀⠀⠀⠀privacy is something he values greatly, though he makes connections with people quickly, it takes him a while to reveal personal information. he doesn’t say anything until he truly believes he can trust you, then he’ll become more vulnerable. you’ll take note that he begins to share childhood stories, how he’s feeling mentally, his plans for the future, etc.

P + PATIENCE —- how easily angered are they?

⠀⠀⠀⠀schlatt’s online persona makes it seem like he would be quick to be angry, but i can see him being very patient. depending on the situation, how you guys got here & what the topic is about — he’ll be more calm on trying to have an adult conversation to work past things. however, during the rare moments where he’s more upset, he still wouldn’t dare yell at you, he’ll shut down instead after a couple minutes of arguing. he’s more firm than anything, trying to understand your feelings and thoughts, but if the conversation is leading you guys nowhere; he offers to take a walk with him in silence to gather your thoughts.

Q + QUIZZES —- how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

⠀⠀⠀⠀you would never guess he actually captures everything you tell him, but he has a very good memory! he’s always bringing up things that you had completely forgot you mentioned to him, like the one shampoo you told him you wanted to try months ago or the new restaurant you wanted to check out once it opened. looking through his notes on his phone, he has quick texts to himself of things you’ve recently mentioned or things he has on his to-do list like buy your cart on the website you’ve had opened for weeks.

R + REMEMBER —- what is their favorite moment in your relationship?

⠀⠀⠀⠀meeting his family is the first memory that comes to mind, being such an important milestone in your relationship that went flawlessly. his parents having loved you the second they opened the door, it warms his heart knowing how quickly you made such a special connection with his parents. he’ll be on the phone with his mother when she suddenly interrupts him asking if you’ve eaten for the day.

S + SECURITY —- how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?

⠀⠀⠀⠀schlatt can actually be very protective over you, especially if you guys are at an event or around other content creators. of course, he lets you go off on your own to socialize, but he’ll always remain in eyesight to keep a close eye on your surroundings. in public, he likes to keep things minimal by keeping an arm around your shoulder, your arm wrapped around his or his hand on your lower back.

⠀⠀⠀⠀though physical violence would never be his first choice, he can definitely get rowdy if someone is taking things too far. if someone came up to you, being very persistent on taking you home with them, he’s intervene by giving them a “what the fuck are you doing?” look followed by a “they’re not interested, bro.” but if they continued to follow after you is when he’ll lightly shove them away. he does not play about your safety.

⠀⠀⠀⠀he, however, can take care of himself, but wouldn’t mind too much if you defended him. he’d be next to you with a smug look on his face as you spoke, almost proud that you have the courage to speak up for him.

T + TRY —- how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

⠀⠀⠀⠀he likes to make everything very sentimental rather than go big for everything. he knows you like the back of his hand, so his gifts are always something he knows you’ve love & use every day. the effort he puts into special occasions like anniversaries, birthdays, etc usually means a romantic meal at a fancy jazz restaurant/bar followed by a breathtaking view at an expensive hotel where the gifts are given. he tries his best to always put in sentimental value into everything he does, i am a acts of service schlatt truther!!!

U + UGLY —- what would be some bad habits of theirs?

⠀⠀⠀⠀there are times when he shuts down, whether it be from overworking himself, feeling overwhelmed with his work or feeling like he’s not doing enough. he won’t talk to anyone and just kind of brushes off your questions, a habit only he can take himself out of until he’s ready to talk. he can also get very defensive about his feelings, he sometimes can’t properly explain how he feels because he lacks the words to express himself, which leads him to feeling frustrated.

V + VANITY —- how concerned are they with their looks?

⠀⠀⠀⠀schlatt has said time and time again he doesn’t really do anything to himself. no cologne, no skincare, nothing to actually maintain an appearance aside from haircuts. he genuinely doesn’t care about any of that, which ultimately makes him more attractive that he just wakes up like that. you will always whine to him about how soft his hair or skin is without any effort on his side, just for him to laugh in your face.

W + WHOLE —- would they feel incomplete without you?

⠀⠀⠀⠀incomplete is a very strong word for someone as independent as him. he finds value in himself, knows who he is as a person and has been more than content with being by himself, but if he lost you? he’d miss you immensely, always being in a state of reminiscing what you usually did around the house, yearning for your presence. of course it would take him some time to get over it, to return how he was before, but there will always be a part of him that believes you took a piece of him he will never get back.

X + XTRA —- a random headcanon for them.

⠀⠀⠀⠀the man often carries something of yours. hair ties on his wrist or in his car, your favorite chapstick in his pockets, a polaroid in his wallet, a comfy pair of shoes and one of his old sweaters for you to change into in his trunk, your playlist ready to play on aux, a trinket (sonny angel, calico critter, etc) you’ve gifted him that he carries on his keys. you’re everywhere and he likes it that way.

Y + YUCK —- what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

⠀⠀⠀⠀schlatt wouldn’t want to be with someone who has to share their business with everyone. he’s a very private person, so i can imagine him being upset if he had a partner that was constantly telling the world about their arguments or personal information he himself would never put out there. it’s fine if someone is talkative and loves to share, just as long as it’s not going to affect him or the relationship personally. telling your best friend about your recent argument is one thing, telling an entire audience or his closest friends about it is another thing.

Z + ZZZ —- what is a sleep habits of theirs?

⠀⠀⠀⠀schlatt’s body will always find yours. he physically cannot sleep if you’re not snuggled up beside him. if he can’t feel you in his sleep, he’s immediately waking up. if you turn in your sleep, so is he, somehow finding comfortable positions with you while you’re both in mimi land.

[star-har]

crimson oaths

Gojo Satoru | hurt/comfort (i think?!)

The mission had been going well. Too well.

You should’ve known better.

Now, you’re bleeding.

The rain hammers down, cold and relentless, soaking through your clothes as you push yourself through the door of your flat, breath uneven, hands slick with blood. Your side burns, pain lacing through your ribs with every shaky step, but there’s no time to deal with it. Not properly. Not yet.

The plan was clear—apprise and radio silence. No contact, no deviations. Stick to protocol.

But you’re compromised.

The thought clenches at your ribs as you fumble with the door lock, pushing it shut behind you with a quiet thud. Your mind races, fighting through the haze of pain and exhaustion. You don’t have time to stitch yourself up. You don’t have time for anything. The clock is already against you.

And then—

A presence.

You feel it before you hear him, before you see him. A shift in the air, a weight settling in the dimly lit space behind you.

Then his voice—low, almost amused, but laced with something sharper beneath it.

“Rough night?”

You freeze, breath hitching, before turning your head just enough to see him.

Gojo Satoru is leaning against the wall like he owns the place, arms crossed, white hair damp from the rain, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. But his eyes—those striking blues—are locked onto you with an intensity that makes your stomach twist.

Your fingers tighten against your side as you swallow the sharp pain curling through you. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Came to check in,” he says easily, but there’s an edge beneath his usual arrogance, a flicker of something unreadable as he tilts his head at you. “Didn’t think I’d walk in on this, though.”

His gaze flicks down—to the blood staining your dress, the way you’re gripping your side, the unsteady way you’re holding yourself upright.

His smirk fades.

“Who did this to you?” His voice is low, clipped. Eyes dark and clouded.

You scoff, turning away. “None of your business.”

He’s in front of you before you can take another step.

Too fast. Too close.

Your breath stutters as you feel the warmth of him, even through the cold dampness of your clothes. He’s still watching you with that unreadable expression, but now that you’re close, you see it—the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers twitch at his sides, like he’s forcing himself to stay still.

“Move,” you say, voice strained.

He doesn’t.

“You’re bleeding,” he states, like it’s some grand revelation.

“Brilliant observation,” you deadpan, pushing past him. You barely make it two steps before the pain sharpens, a gasp slipping from your lips. Your balance wavers, legs giving just slightly—

And then he’s there.

Gojo’s hands catch you before you can fall, firm and steady. One grips your arm, the other comes to your waist—too close, too warm, too much.

You tense. He doesn’t let go.

“You need stitches,” he mutters, the teasing lilt in his voice barely there anymore.

You shake your head. “I don’t have time for that.”

He exhales sharply, almost a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Oh, now you’re in a hurry? What happened to that ‘I can handle anything’ attitude?”

You glare up at him, but your vision blurs for a fraction of a second. The blood loss is catching up. You can feel it.

Gojo must see it, too, because his grip tightens.

“I didn’t know where to go.”

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them.

It’s quiet. Soft. Too raw.

Gojo stills.

Something unreadable flickers through his expression before he exhales, tilting his head slightly, voice dipping lower. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “You did.”

You try to ignore the meaning behind his words.

He moves then, guiding you toward the couch, and for once, you don’t argue.

You let him push you down, let him kneel in front of you, let him tear your dress where your wound lies, just enough to get a better look. His fingers graze your skin—light, careful, almost gentle. You hate the way a shiver runs up your spine.

His jaw tightens. “You’re an idiot.”

You roll your eyes. “Great, thanks.”

Gojo doesn’t respond. Instead, he shifts closer, one hand pressing against your thigh to steady himself as he examines the wound. His touch is warm, steady, but there’s an undercurrent of something else beneath it.

It’s when he finally speaks again that you feel it—the shift.

His voice is quieter this time, almost something else. “You scared me.”

Your breath catches.

It’s barely a confession, barely an admission at all. But coming from him, from Gojo, it’s enough to send something spiraling through your chest.

For a moment, just a moment, you forget about the pain.

Just a moment.

Then his fingers press a little too hard against the wound, and you hiss, snapping back to reality.

“You did that on purpose,” you grit out, glaring at him.

His smirk is back, lazy and infuriating. “Oops.”

You groan. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” His voice is too smug, too sure.

You don’t answer.

Gojo leans in just slightly, just enough to let you feel the warmth of him, the way his breath ghosts against your skin. “Lucky for you, sweetheart, I’m the only one you can trust right now.”

Your stomach twists.

Gojo just grins.

His fingers ghost over your skin, light but deliberate, as he pulls the ruined fabric of your shirt further up, exposing the deep gash along your side. You don’t have the strength to protest—not when your body is still trembling from the cold, not when the pain is starting to settle into something heavier, something deeper.

Not when his touch is so warm.

Gojo exhales, running a hand through his damp hair. “This is gonna hurt.”

You huff, shifting slightly. “No shit.”

He smirks, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he leans forward, grabbing the first aid kit from the table beside him, fingers moving quickly. The amusement in his expression fades as he soaks a cloth in antiseptic, pressing it against the wound with little warning.

A sharp, involuntary hiss escapes your lips, muscles tensing against the sting.

Gojo stills.

His free hand—large, steady—moves to your thigh, grounding you. His grip is firm but not overbearing, thumb rubbing absent circles against your skin. You barely register the touch at first, focused too much on the pain, until he murmurs, “Relax, sweetheart. I got you.”

You glare at him. “Don’t—” Another sharp inhale as he dabs at the wound. “Don’t call me that.”

He chuckles, low and rough, but his grip stays, grounding you through the pain. “Thought nicknames were supposed to be cute.”

“Not from you.”

His grin widens, but the teasing glint in his eyes is softer now, something else lurking beneath it. “Shame,” he muses, pressing the cloth a little harder—maybe as payback. “It suits you.”

You mutter something under your breath, but you don’t push him away.

Gojo works in silence after that, his focus sharp, almost unnervingly so. He preps the needle with practiced ease, threading it with a precision that feels at odds with the reckless way he usually carries himself. His hands, though steady, are gentle as he moves back to you.

“This part’s gonna suck,” he warns, voice softer.

You nod, already bracing yourself.

Gojo shifts closer, pressing a hand to the back of your neck. His touch is warm, steady. “Bite down,” he murmurs, guiding your face toward his shoulder.

You stiffen. “What?”

“If you don’t, you’re gonna bite your tongue. And as fun as that sounds for me, I don’t think you’d appreciate it.” His voice is light, teasing, but his grip stays firm, urging you closer.

You hesitate, but the next sharp sting from his fingers grazing the wound has you biting into your lip, drawing blood. With a low exhale, you press your teeth into the firm muscle of his shoulder, biting down hard.

Gojo barely reacts. No sharp inhale, no flinch—just a slow exhale as his hand drifts down to your hip, thumb rubbing easy circles against your skin. “There you go,” he hums, low and warm. “That’s my girl.”

You sink your teeth in harder just to spite him, and this time, his breath catches, fingers tightening slightly where they rest.

But he only chuckles, soft and deep, pressing his lips to your temple—so fleeting, so light, you almost think you imagined it.

“Just a little more, sweetheart.”

But nothing—nothing—prepares you for the moment he pushes the needle through your skin.

Pain lances through you, white-hot and searing, and before you can stop yourself, your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, gripping tight.

A low sound leaves his throat, something dangerously close to a groan, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his free hand finds your waist, thumb pressing into the dip of your hip, grounding you as he works the needle through your skin.

Your breath is uneven. His is too.

“You’re handling this so well,” he murmurs, the smirk audible in his voice.

“Shut up,” you bite out, nails digging into him as another wave of pain hits.

He laughs—actually laughs—but there’s something rough in it, something laced with too much tension. “You know, I think I like you like this. Clinging to me. Makes me feel needed.”

You snap your head up, glaring at him. “I will kill you.”

“I have no doubt,” he hums, tightening a stitch.

The sharp tug makes you jolt, pressing further into him—practically in his lap now, breath warm against his throat. His body stiffens for a fraction of a second before he exhales, amused but strained.

“You sure you hate me?” His voice is quieter now, teasing but laced with something else. Something heavier.

You don’t answer.

Not when his hand is still on your waist. Not when his breath fans against your cheek. Not when your fingers are still fisted in his shirt, knuckles brushing against the warmth of his skin.

The room feels smaller. The air feels thick.

And Gojo, for once, is quiet.

Then, finally—finally—he pulls the last stitch tight and murmurs, “It’s over. Just one more thing.”

Before you can ask, he presses a bandage over the wound, smoothing it down with careful fingers.

His touch lingers.

You’re still pressed against him, your breathing uneven, his warm and steady. His hand is still on your waist. His lips part just slightly, like he wants to say something—

But instead, he exhales, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

“You should rest,” he says, but he doesn’t move away.

Neither do you.

You swallow, forcing yourself to break eye contact, fingers finally loosening their grip on him. “You should leave.”

Gojo tilts his head, amused. “And miss taking care of you when you inevitably pass out from blood loss? Not a chance, sweetheart.”

Your jaw clenches. “I hate you.”

Gojo grins, and this time, it’s different. Something softer. Something dangerous.

“No, you don’t,” he murmurs.

You want to argue more. But you’re already drifting. Black seeps into the corners of your eyes, blinding you momentarily before you gain your vision back, blurred and distorted.

Black again. This time, it takes what’s left of your strength with it.

Your head lolls forward, but before darkness fully claims you, something—someone—catches you. Warm, steady, unyielding.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Gojo’s voice. A soft hum an endless sea away. “I’ve got you.”

That shouldn’t be as comforting as it is.

———

Brb I have to go run laps lol

[ilysungho]

hiii what do you think about the boynextdoor members + sad sex?? maybe they're aware you two are going to break up soon or know there is something wrong with the relationship (i honestly love angst)

i actually have some ideas but itd be great to hear yours too since you write amazingly

thank you so much for your compliments love! this is so different from all the other asks i've had, thank you for asking me this! i'd love to hear your thoughts too so please feel free to leave them any time, and let me know what you think of mine as well~ i wrote short scenarios for each of the members as i thought that was the best way to express the emotions. they aren’t as focused on the sex, but rather the emotions. leehan’s is inspired by this post!

contains: a lot of angst and sadness and tears, sad sex, husband!sungho x wife!reader, situationship!leehan x fem!reader, everyone else is in an established relationship (bf/gf), sungho/riwoo live with reader, lowercase intended

sungho - fixing a breaking marriage

there would be a lot of tears from both you and him, though not a lot of words are being exchanged as he holds you so impossibly close, yet still pulling you closer. bruised lips would show how much one means to the other as he gives you slow, deep strokes. eventually, he would be the first to break the silence, his words cutting through the sadness as he utters three simple words: i love you. and at that, you’d be crying harder than you already were, nodding while repeating those words back to him. he’d crack a small smile at you, relieved to know that you still care for him, at least enough to say the sentence back to him. you both know that both of you messed up somewhere along the line, but neither of you were ready to admit it. and as days went on, it felt like both of you were walking on eggshells around each other despite being married for 2 years, together for 5. his strong arms held you close as he started to be more vocal, asking you how it all feels so he can be better, not only at the moment but also as your life partner. he wanted nothing more than to stay as your husband, and he knows you reciprocate those feelings. so you tell him everything, through actions and words, for better, but not for worse.

riwoo - words that should've been left unsaid

"let's just break up then!" riwoo's voice echoes through the room as he stood up to leave. it was pretty normal for the two of you to have disagreements over small and meaningless things, the occasional arguments making way. yet it had never been as big as the current one you were both having. a little nagging turned into a course of reasons why he isn't being a very good helper around the house, which then turned into a screaming match between the two of you. neither of you knew why the argument became this extreme. he roamed around the park nearby as you sat on your shared bed in shock. you processed your pain and anger, ultimately deciding to take a leave for a couple days to really think things through, getting up to pack a light suitcase. about ten minutes after you began, riwoo comes back and is standing by the door frame with his eyebrows arching high. "babe i didn't actually mean it." he'd say as he tries to get you stop, only getting you to do so when he pulls you to him. "you're not going anywhere, you got that?" you're glaring at him the entire time, anger through the sky at the thought of that sentence slipping out of his tongue. he notices your expression at him not faltering, leaning in then to kiss you, apologizing to you continuously as he laid you down to properly convey his sorrys by giving you unforgettable pleasure.

jaehyun - closing the distance

he'd be very sad, hearing you say some things he never thought would come out of your mouth. jaehyun knew his schedule was too busy, yet he always tries to make time for you. days turned into hours, hours turned into minutes, and minutes turned into nothing. the distance between the two of you grew exponentially as he tried to juggle so many things at once. when you said that you were thinking of potentially breaking up with him because of how the relationship didn't even feel like what it's supposed to be anymore, he's on the verge of breaking down. it wasn't until you were at the door, questions with unanswered motives hanging over the two of you when he hugged you from behind, sobbing into your shoulder. jaehyun didn't want to let go of you, pleading you to stay with him as you tried to get his hands to loosen up. you turned around to face him, giving him a hard kiss full of requited pain and emotions. he'd kiss you through the tears, following your movements into his room as the kiss turned into more. you both hadn't been so close in a long while, but it felt like the right place to be in as he showed you his undying love for you in any way he could for the rest of the night.

taesan - instincts on point

if a relationship with you was something he didn't want to keep anymore, then he would've made it very clear. you know he would've told you that he can't be with you while also juggling all other aspects of his life. you know that, yet you still find yourself begging him to spend more time with you, to give you more attention, to properly communicate with you even. and the worst part of it all is that taesan knows it all. he knows it and that is why, the second before you could hit the send button asking him to break up with you, he's standing outside your main door, drenched in the rainwater and breathless. as soon as you open the door, he comes in and slams the door shut, kissing you hungrily against it before you could utter a word. he's pulling you in with him as he discards his wet clothes along with your nightwear. as you both reach the main bedroom, he's pinning you against the mattress as he says how he could feel something was wrong and came to ask you himself. you'd be shocked to see how strong his senses are, not saying anything as you pulled his face to your own to kiss him through your tears that finally spilled out, turning you both over so that now you are straddling him. "let me do this please," you say with a breaking voice, inserting his length into you while he pulled you down to kiss you again, unable to keep himself apart from you for too long.

leehan - end of an era

leehan held onto your figure, hugging your shoulders as the faint sound of the tv reverberated through the room. “let’s not meet anymore. this should be the last time we do.” well, those were the exact words leehan expected yet didn’t want to hear. he was… stunned to say the least, absolutely quiet as you looked at him to see any reaction he’d put on his face. being in a situationship was the hardest thing for you, especially when it was with someone like leehan who was practically perfect, yet far from it at the same time. “ok… i understand.” those weren’t the words he wanted to utter, yet he was afraid of fighting for you. he knew that if he stayed, it would all end up going wrong eventually. he had convinced himself of it and doesn’t even want to try to salvage what’s left of it. he knows he fucked up, he always does, but you are only doing what’s best for you and he respects your decision. he’s too in love with you for you to not choose what’s best for you. he’d hold your body close as you both share such intimate moments for the last time, kissing and letting sounds of painful love show through instead of direct words signifying the end of an era. an end of an era because of his denial of needing you, tears falling as he holds you one last time before letting go of all traces of you.

[goshikisbaee]

Steady as Stone ᥫ᭡.

[ Aone x reader ]

content: fluff

———

You had always loved the way Aone existed in silence. Not because he lacked words, but because he never needed them to be understood. His presence alone spoke volumes—the quiet way he always stood beside you, the way his large hands would cover yours when they felt too cold, the way his gaze softened just a fraction whenever you caught his eye.

Today was no different.

The rain tapped gently against the window, the soft pitter-patter filling the cozy space of your shared apartment. You were curled up on the couch with a thick blanket draped over your legs, the warmth from a nearby cup of tea still lingering in your hands. Aone sat beside you, his broad frame taking up a good portion of the couch, but you never minded.

He was warm, steady, a quiet kind of comfort that made you feel safe.

You let out a content sigh, leaning against his side, and immediately, Aone adjusted to accommodate you, shifting so that you could rest against him more comfortably. His arm settled around you, careful yet firm, like he wanted to make sure you knew he was there.

Your fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on his forearm, marveling at the contrast—rough skin, calloused from years of blocking powerful spikes, yet so gentle when it came to you. He watched your movements quietly, the only reaction being the soft way he let his fingers curl against your side, thumb brushing slow, absentminded strokes over your shoulder.

“You okay?” you asked softly, tilting your head up to look at him.

Aone blinked, his expression as neutral as ever, but you had learned to read him well over time. The subtle shift in his brow, the way his lips pressed together for just a second before parting slightly—small details that told you he was thinking.

Finally, he nodded.

That was one thing you loved about him. Aone never spoke unnecessarily, but when he did, every word mattered.

“Just tired?” you guessed.

Another small nod.

You hummed, shifting so you could properly face him. “Then let me take care of you this time.”

Aone’s brows lifted slightly, just a flicker of surprise crossing his features before you reached for his hand, cradling it between your smaller ones. His hands were big—warm, solid, safe. You traced over his palm, fingers trailing along the lines of his skin, feeling the strength beneath them.

“You always do so much for me,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “So let me do this, just for a little while.”

Aone swallowed, and for a moment, you wondered if he’d protest. But then, he exhaled slowly and nodded once, a silent agreement.

Carefully, you guided him to lean back against the couch, shifting so that you could rest against him, arms wrapped around his waist. His heart beat steadily beneath your ear, the rhythm grounding, soothing. He held you close but not too tightly, always mindful of his strength.

The rain outside continued, a soft lullaby against the windows, and you felt his breathing slow, his body relaxing fully into your touch.

You smiled against his chest, fingers lacing with his as you whispered, “See? You can let me take care of you too.”

Aone didn’t say anything, but the way his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, the way his thumb brushed over your knuckles in slow, steady strokes—it was all the answer you needed.

His way of saying thank you.

His way of saying I love you.

And that was enough.

———

[ronkeyroo]

Friends, kind strangers, forgive me for the radio silence the past months... I know I left on an open turmoil, and while my heart still aches - i've had alot to take care in the time I was away...With much of your kindness, thoughts, and encouragement still nestling beside me.

Its been insanely, insanely difficult to put my thoughts into words. this same persisting struggle of feeling so so deeply but feeling like nothing i can say is enough to encapsulate it...My ability to express myself with art has been recently flailing, and im worried that i spent so long in perpetual silence that i lost my ability to even just- articulate myself properly... But i've been insisting and putting my efforts into responses, and I hope to get them out this week. I want to reach back to those who reached for me when I was losing my mind, and soothe any worries for those who sought me in my absence... Its a small update, but I couldn't bare to keep traversing between my accounts like a sad ghost without saying a word, despite lingering so close

[gpcwsl]

Alessia Russo x Reader

- Extra Clingy -

MasterList

Warnings: kissing?

WC: 1.5k

Last one for the day. More tomorrow.

You wake up to the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the curtains, but it isn’t the warmth of the sun that stirs you from your sleep—it’s her. Alessia.

Her arms are wrapped tightly around you, legs tangled with yours as if she’s trying to keep you from escaping. Her breath is warm against your neck, and you feel the featherlight press of her lips against your shoulder.

“Morning,” she murmurs, voice husky and thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you reply softly, turning your head to meet her gaze. Her blue eyes are drowsy yet sparkling, a lazy grin spreading across her face.

Without warning, Alessia shifts closer, burying her face in the crook of your neck. Her lips press a series of kisses to your skin—your collarbone, the curve of your shoulder, the soft spot just below your ear.

“You’re so warm,” she mumbles, her voice muffled against your skin.

“You’re extra clingy today,” you tease, though you’re far from complaining.

“I don’t want to move,” she admits, her arms tightening around you. “I just want to stay here with you forever.”

Her lips find their way to your jaw, placing slow, deliberate kisses as if memorizing every inch of you. Then she pulls back slightly, her hand cupping your cheek. “Kiss me,” she whispers, her eyes locked on yours.

You don’t hesitate. You lean in, pressing your lips to hers in a tender, lingering kiss. Alessia sighs against your mouth, her fingers slipping into your hair as she deepens the kiss.

When you pull away, she pouts, her lips soft and slightly swollen. “More,” she pleads, her voice barely above a whisper.

You can’t help but smile. “How many kisses do you need this morning?”

“As many as you’ll give me,” she replies, her grin turning playful.

You spend the next several minutes indulging her, her lips brushing against yours again and again. She’s insatiable, her kisses growing more fervent, her hands wandering to hold your face, your waist, anywhere she can touch.

Eventually, she pulls back just enough to rest her forehead against yours. “You know I love you, right?” she murmurs, her breath warm against your lips.

“Yeah,” you whisper back, your heart swelling. “I love you too.”

She smiles at that, her eyes shining as she presses one last kiss to your forehead. “Good. Now let’s stay here all day.”You chuckle softly, brushing a strand of hair away from Alessia’s face. “Stay here all day? What about breakfast? Or, you know, getting dressed?”

She grins mischievously, her arms still locked firmly around you. “Breakfast can wait. Clothes are overrated. All I want right now is you.”

Her words send a pleasant warmth spreading through your chest, and her gaze holds yours with an intensity that makes it hard to argue. She tucks her head back against your chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

“I like mornings like this,” she says quietly, her voice almost dreamy. “When it’s just us, no training, no schedules, no rushing around. Just you and me.”

You tilt her chin up gently so you can look at her properly. “You’re such a softie, you know that?”

“Only for you,” she replies with a wink, leaning up to press a quick kiss to your lips.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that feels safe and full rather than awkward. Alessia shifts slightly, resting her chin on your chest, her fingers drumming lightly against your arm. You can tell she’s thinking about something, and you give her the space to sort through it.

Eventually, she speaks. “You make me feel… grounded,” she admits softly. “Like, no matter what’s happening out there—good or bad—I always have this. You. Us.”

Her vulnerability takes you by surprise, and you feel your heart ache in the best possible way. You reach down, intertwining your fingers with hers. “You’ll always have me, Lessi. No matter what.”

She smiles, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in her expression—relief, gratitude, love. She squeezes your hand gently and sits up just enough to kiss your temple.

“Alright, you win,” she says suddenly, her tone lightening as a cheeky smile spreads across her face. “Breakfast sounds good. But only if you promise not to leave my side for too long.”

You laugh, nudging her playfully. “You’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love,” she counters, flashing you a grin as she finally untangles herself from you, albeit reluctantly. She stretches, her golden hair catching the morning light, before turning to you with an outstretched hand.

“C’mon,” she says, her voice full of warmth. “Let’s make pancakes. Together.”

You take her hand, letting her pull you up. As you head to the kitchen, Alessia doesn’t let go of your hand, and every so often, she steals another kiss—on your cheek, your temple, even your shoulder as you work side by side.

The morning stretches on, and it’s everything she said it would be: no rushing, no distractions, just the two of you. And for the first time in a long time, you feel like the rest of the world can wait.

The kitchen is filled with the comforting sounds of morning: the sizzle of batter hitting the pan, Alessia’s soft hums as she flips a pancake with surprising grace, and your shared laughter over her attempt to make a perfectly round one—which somehow ends up looking like a heart.

“Look at that,” she says, holding up the heart-shaped pancake proudly. “It’s a sign. Meant to be.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “It’s a coincidence, Lessi.”

“Uh-uh,” she protests, placing the pancake on a plate and turning to you with a teasing smile. “Don’t ruin the romance, babe. It’s love, right here. Breakfast love.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you start cutting up some fruit to add to the stack. Alessia leans against the counter next to you, watching you with a soft expression. When you glance at her, she doesn’t look away.

“What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” she says, but her voice carries that gentle, adoring tone she always gets when she’s completely lost in her feelings for you. “I just like watching you. You’re… you’re perfect.”

You pause, your cheeks warming. Alessia is never shy about voicing how she feels, but every time she says something like that, it catches you off guard.

“Perfect?” you echo, smirking slightly. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Not even close,” she replies, stepping closer to wrap her arms around your waist. “It’s the truth. And I think you’re just going to have to accept that I’m obsessed with you.”

Her lips brush against your temple, lingering there as she whispers, “Obsessed.”

You lean back into her embrace, tilting your head slightly to meet her gaze. “Fine. But only if I get to be obsessed with you, too.”

Her grin is immediate, wide and boyish, the kind that makes her look completely and utterly in love. “Deal.”

The pancakes and fruit are quickly forgotten as she turns you around in her arms, pulling you into a kiss that’s far too passionate for the middle of breakfast preparations. Her hands settle at your waist, her lips moving against yours with a tenderness that melts you from the inside out.

When you finally pull away, breathless and giggling, Alessia presses her forehead to yours, her hands still holding you close. “You’re my favorite person, you know that?”

“Better be,” you tease, poking her side gently. “Otherwise, all this clinginess would be suspicious.”

She laughs, her nose scrunching adorably, before stealing another quick kiss. “Alright, let’s eat before I forget food exists and just keep kissing you all day.”

The two of you settle at the small dining table, plates piled high with pancakes and fruit, syrup drizzled generously over everything. It’s simple, but it feels perfect. You spend the meal laughing, teasing, and stealing bites from each other’s plates, completely wrapped up in your little bubble of love and comfort.

After breakfast, Alessia insists on cleaning up, though her version of tidying involves dancing around the kitchen with a dish towel in hand, dramatically lip-syncing to the music playing softly in the background. You can’t help but laugh as you watch her spin and twirl, her energy infectious.

“Come on,” she urges, holding out her hand to you. “Dance with me.”

“I think I’ll pass,” you say, though you’re already smiling.

“Nope,” she says, grabbing your hand and pulling you into her orbit. “No passing. Mandatory fun.”

You let her guide you into an impromptu slow dance, her hands finding your waist as yours settle on her shoulders. She sways with you, her eyes never leaving yours, her smile soft and sweet.

“You make everything better,” she murmurs after a moment, her voice quiet but filled with sincerity. “Even doing the dishes.”

You lean in, brushing your lips against hers in a kiss that feels like a promise. “I’m not going anywhere, Lessi.”

She smiles against your lips, her hold on you tightening slightly. “Good,” she whispers. “Because I’m not done being obsessed with you yet.”

And for the rest of the day, that’s exactly how it feels—like the world outside doesn’t exist, like the only thing that matters is the two of you, wrapped up in each other’s love and laughter.

[anotherthoughtthatwillhauntme]

☆ Kayden X Gareth—

The classroom was draped in gold, the late afternoon sun spilling through the tall windows, gilding the wooden desks and the faint dust in the air. The sound of scribbling pens and the occasional rustle of pages was the only thing filling the silence—except for the weight of Kayden’s gaze.

His students were working. He was meant to be grading papers, returning them, carrying out his duties with the practiced ease of an instructor who demanded excellence.

But his eyes were elsewhere.

Gareth.

Seated by the window, bathed in light, hair golden and unruly, the tips catching the sun’s fire. His green eyes flickered over the pages of a book, a worn copy of Kahlil Gibran’s collected poems, thumb absently stroking the paper’s edge. His brows were drawn together in thought, and his lips—parted slightly, lost in quiet contemplation—seemed to murmur the words before they settled in his mind.

Kayden knew those annotations well. He had traced them before, let his fingers skim over Gareth’s thoughts as if they were scripture.

"For love is sufficient unto love."

Gareth’s familiar script lined the margin beside it, half neat, half hurried:

Then why does it ache?

"And ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."

A faint mark beside this one—one Kayden had seen before but never addressed. Gareth’s pen had pressed harder here, as if etching meaning into the page.

Next to it, smaller writing:

So what happens when love is known too soon?

His notes lined the margins—some written in hurried strokes, others delicate and careful, like they held pieces of him within them.

Gareth was oblivious to the world around him, lost in ink and poetry, unbothered by the silent war waging across the room.

But Kayden noticed the shift immediately.

A presence.

A gaze that did not belong.

His expression did not change, but his spine straightened. He turned his attention slightly, following the pull of his instincts, and found the culprit.

Elliot Wade.

The boy was staring.

Not glancing. Not observing.

Watching.

Kayden’s grip on the stack of papers tightened—just slightly, just enough to crinkle the edges. His fingers pressed against the pages, anchoring them in place.

Elliot’s gaze dragged over Gareth’s form—lingering like a thief’s hand over locked treasure, greedy and far too bold.

Kayden smiled.

It was slow, patient, and meant nothing good.

Gareth remained unaware. Still annotating. Still utterly lost in his own world.

But Kayden moved.

When Elliot finally stood, walking toward the front of the class to retrieve his graded paper, Kayden was already there, waiting behind his desk like a predator waiting for its prey to make a mistake.

Elliot reached out.

Kayden’s fingers remained firm, unmoving.

The air between them shifted, silent and heavy.

Elliot hesitated, eyes flicking up in confusion—only to meet Kayden’s gaze.

The moment their eyes locked, something cold, absolute, and terrifying settled into the silence.

Kayden smiled again—smaller this time, sharper.

And then, in a voice too soft to be overheard, he murmured,

"Eyes. Fucking. Off of Carson."

Elliot froze.

A beat of silence.

"You think I wouldn’t notice?" Kayden murmured, voice smooth—almost amused, almost deadly. "Do you think I don’t know every single time someone so much as breathes in his direction?"

Elliot swallowed.

"You are mistaken, Wade." Kayden’s voice dipped into something lower, something dangerous. "If I ever catch your gaze where it does not belong again, I will personally ensure you never have the ability to look at anyone properly again."

A heartbeat.

Another.

Kayden let go of the paper.

Elliot snatched it up with shaking hands, stepping back, his face pale, his pulse visible in his throat. He gave a sharp, jerking nod before turning too quickly, nearly stumbling in his rush to return to his seat.

Kayden exhaled, rolling his shoulders once, letting the tension bleed out of him.

And then—

Green eyes.

He turned his head just in time to meet Gareth’s gaze.

Gareth was looking at him now, head tilted slightly, brows raised in curiosity.

Unlike Elliot, he wasn’t afraid.

No, Gareth was intrigued.

The silence stretched between them, a private conversation spoken through the weight of a stare. Kayden could see the unspoken words flickering behind those green eyes, the slow realization that whatever just happened was because of him.

But Gareth, clever, intuitive Gareth, said nothing.

Instead, his lips curved—just slightly, just enough that his dimples made the faintest of appearances before he returned to his book.

Kayden chuckled under his breath.

Little Monster .

He should leave it at that. Should let Gareth focus, should continue the lesson, should pretend as though his world didn’t orbit one person in this entire room.

But instead, he reached for a blank paper.

Wrote something.

Folded it.

And walked straight to Gareth’s desk.

He set the paper down over Kahlil Gibran’s pages, tapping it once with his index finger.

Gareth blinked, a flicker of amusement in those green eyes now.

"Professor?" he murmured, voice light with mischief.

Kayden smirked. "Read it later."

And then he was gone, returning to his desk as though nothing had happened.

Gareth waited a full ten seconds before unfolding the note.

Kayden’s handwriting, elegant and deliberate, stared back at him.

"If love finds you lost in ink and poetry, let it know that I am jealous of every word that graces your fingertips.

For I would rather be the pages you mark, the verses you underline, the book you hold against your chest in sleep."

Gareth’s breath caught. His fingers curled around the edges of the note, his pulse suddenly so loud in his ears.

Slowly—carefully—he lifted his gaze again.

And from across the room, Kayden was already watching—waiting, knowing, owning that moment before Gareth could even process it.

♡♡♡

I’ve been working on this for days—sweating, crying, and probably losing brain cells in the process. But you know what? Worth it. Because I live for soft, fluffy moments, and if you don’t—congratulations, you have no heart.

And as for Kayden and Gareth? Oh, please. They’re my entire personality, my lifeline, my reason for breathing. If they don’t make it, I don’t make it. Simple math.

So, until March 20th, I’m going full unhinged mode with more batshit crazy posts. Buckle up, besties—it’s about to get wild. (Pray for my sanity. Or don’t. Too late anyway.)

[harvest-of-the-present]

don't you just feel so moved after the littlest interaction with Dionysus

[libby-for-life]

(Hope you don't mind me adding something—)

Adam felt like giving up, the weight of his unrequited feelings pressing heavily on his chest. Every attempt to get Lucifer to see him as more than just a friend had ended in humiliation, leaving Adam feeling like a fool chasing after an unattainable dream. Each moment spent in Lucifer's radiant presence made his heart race, yet it seemed to pass unnoticed by the one he desired most.

The First Man felt the sting of tears welling up in his eyes, but he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to swallow the emotion. Men don’t cry, he reminded himself, even as he battled the urge to collapse under the strain of his longing. Yet, every glance exchanged with Lucifer ignited a fierce yearning within him, a desperate hunger that left him both exhilarated and heartbroken. Adam couldn't shake the feeling that with every lingering look and casual touch, he was silently pleading for a love that felt eternally out of reach.

"Adam? What's wrong?" The voice cut through the silence like a knife, and Adam couldn’t help but glare at Lucifer, whose bright eyes were filled with genuine concern. The late afternoon Hell light filtered through the window, casting a warm glow that contrasted with the tension in the air.

"Forget it," Adam snapped, attempting to pull away from the conversation, but a strong, reassuring grip fastened around his wrist, preventing his escape. "Don't care? How can you say that?" Lucifer's voice trembled slightly, his expression a mixture of disbelief and hurt that tugged at something deep inside Adam.

Adam's glare intensified, a storm brewing behind his storm-gray eyes. "You don't care how I want you to. You never will." Each word dripped with frustration, revealing a pain that had been festering for far too long. The atmosphere crackled between them, heavy with unspoken truths and unresolved feelings, leaving an ache that lingered like an unfinished melody.

"How do you want me to? Adam, I don't understand!" Lucifer exclaimed, frustration lacing his voice as he raked a hand through his tousled hair. The hotel room was thick with tension, the air heavy with unspoken emotions. But Adam was done holding back. He had reached the breaking point, his heart pounding as he took a step closer, defiance igniting in his eyes.

“Fuck the consequences,” he thought. He didn’t care if the guests overheard their argument or if Lucifer looked at him with disgust. The risk was worth it. With a deep breath, he shouted, “I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME LIKE I LOVE YOU!” His voice echoed off the walls, charged with raw emotion.

There it was, the truth laid bare between them. Adam braced himself, ready for Lucifer's wrath, anticipating the moment he would be picked up by the scruff of his neck and thrown out into the cold night, banished from this fragile world they had shared. But he couldn’t hold back any longer; he had to take this leap, no matter the cost.

He suddenly felt a hand on his face, bringing him to look at Lucifer. Adam couldn't even see properly because he was crying. "Oh, Adam...why didn't you just tell me?" He gently kissed Adam and he would have collapsed if Lucifer didn't hold him up. Adam blinked the tears away when they broke the kiss, the devil's gaze hot. "Now...enough of all this beating-around-the-bush."

Adam shivered when Lucifer smirked. "So...are you certain you don't have any other symptoms of prostate cancer?" He whispered in Adam's ear. "Because in my professional opinion, I need to have another look..."

Oh...shit.

Adam trying to get Lucifer to have sex with him but Lucifer is obviously at every turn.

-

“I love popsicles. Licking them, how they feel in my mouth, swallowing.” Adam moaned sinfully, “but sticky drool always covers my chin, dribbling down onto my chest.”

Lucifer looks up from his duck, towards Adam. Sees the sticky mess doing exactly as Adam said. A string of saliva from the popsicle to Adam’s open mouth. His face flushed. He chuckled. Poor Adam must be really desperate.

He conjured a damp cloth so Adam could clean up the mess on his face and chest. “Here you go, buddy!” Lucifer’s went back to his duck.

-

Adam lay on top of him. His voice husky and he moaned out. “So sooorry. I tripped.”

He straddled Lucifer’s waist, laying there with Lucifer’s face in Adam’s soft pecs and chest hair.

Lucifer reached up, grasping Adam by the hips. “That’s alright.” His voice was muffled by Adam’s chest. He teleported them so that they were standing, and pulled away. “Accidents happen.” He let go and continued on in his search of Charlie.

-

Adam gasped as he scrolled his phone. “Lucifer!” His voice panicked. “I think I have prostate cancer!”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “You’re dead, Adam.”

“The internet says it matches my symptoms.” Adam moved from sitting at his end of the couch to kneeling and clinging to Lucifer’s arm. “Can you check?”

He must be very worried if he wanted Lucifer to check. So he pressed his hand to Adam chest and checked. “You’re all good.”

Pouting Adam sat back down.

Idly, Lucifer’s wondered if maybe Adam was having trouble adjusting to hell. He sure had been clingy lately.

[maeamian]

I understand why that person from the country of Georgia is mad that people aren't getting it right, but also the only part of their post that actually points out it is talking about the country rather than state is the flag that they use, they say "The place I live" which could be either, they talk about the legislature being lethally transphobic which could be either.

I can understand why the particular double name can cause a lot of frustration especially when you're trying to talk about something serious, but sometimes when there's communication problems between you and an audience they are partially your fault.

[pepperpixel]

Hello! I watched your speedpaints on repeat when I was in middle school (like 6 years ago) and sometimes still go back and watch them for the sake of nostalgia and good music. I just wanted to let you know you’ve touched my life and left a print, thank you 🤍

Thank you. So so much. For sending me this??? The me who made all those youtube videos. Doesn’t exist anymore. Life got harder. In so many new and horrible ways. And that like. Spark to create kinda died. And also I had more important shit to worry about all of a sudden. But. Knowing that it left on impact on someone enough to send me a message. Years after I’ve stopped making them tho. Idk.. that means something.. I appreciate you didn’t forget about me! (/my videos lol. I kno u don’t kno me. My vids and art feel a bit like. An extension of me tho? In a way. But I kno that it’s not a 1:1 thing. My art an videos express thoughts ideas and feelings of mine. But they are not. Me. Just lil slivers of me.. Tiny lil portions from specific moments in time.)

Sometimes it feels like those videos were just a flash in the pan. A brief moment of attention and fame I didn’t grab onto hard enough… and now the moments long gone. but. I didn’t rlly want to grab onto it, I just wanted to make fun videos. And show off my music taste lol. And express. The music videos my brain would create in my head into the real world. And then I got too busy w real life kicking my ass. (Ps. life has now stopped kicking my ass!! It’s gotten better. Just. Not the same as it was before) Maybe I’ll get back into it one day. If I have any new ideas. Once I get stable and know what I’m doing. And get like an iPad or something so I don’t have to wrangle w my laptop lol. But yeah!!! Srry.. I’m rambling a lot.. this message just made me emotional ok! I’m being openly vulnerable in turn hopefully that’s not too weird lol. I’m happy my videos had an impact on your life!! That means. A fucking ton. Like. Words cannot properly express the weird happy feeling that gives me in my heart. Thank you so much!! For real!!! Srry for getting all in depth about my life again this message just!!! Struck an introspective chord w me!!!

[charmonys]

he  blinks  at  the  rather  blunt  response,  though  doesn't  seem  particularly  offended  by  it.  on  the  contrary,  sympathy  would  be  akin  to  a  drip  of  acid  in  open  wounds  —  not  that  the  halovian  was  anticipating  anything  of  the  sort  from  the  likes  of  stelle.  some  are  more  receptive  to  platitudes  and  words  of  comfort;  sunday  knows  that  well,  for  he  has  guided  countless  souls  who  have  sought  him  out  for  peace.  (  they  are  the  innocent  lambs,  and  he  is  their  shepherd.  )  yet  when  directed  towards  himself,  pity  has  always  left  a  rather  foul  taste  in  his  mouth.  the  halovian  knows  quite  intimately  the  arbitrary  nature  of  suffering  —  it  is  the  epitome  of  all  that  he  rallies  against.  what  he  hungers  for  isn't  a  balm  to  momentarily  soothe  the  ache  of  his  wounds,  but  a  solution  to  ensure  that  he  won't  have  to  endure  them  again.  ironically,  that  is  precisely  what  stelle  offers  him.

❝  i ...  suppose.  ❞  the  words  escape  him,  punctuated  by  a  soft  sigh.  he  gazes  down  at  the  plate  in  his  hands,  cleaning  it  mindlessly  as  he  mulls  over  the  nameless'  response.  ❝  in  spite  of  my  efforts  to  live  as  an  ordinary  person,  there  is  still  a  part  of  me  that  clings  to  a  sense  of  solitude  and  otherness ...  perhaps  because  it  is  one  of  the  only  familiar  things  i  have  left.  ❞  a  rueful  smile  pulls  at  the  corners  of  his  mouth.  the  halovian  places  down  the  spotless  plate  and  selects  the  next,  taking  comfort  in  the  methodical  movements.  the  silence  that  follows  the  admission  drags  long  enough  that  he  finishes  drying  two  more  —  and  one  would  be  forgiven  for  assuming  sunday  had  finished  speaking  altogether.  ❝  ...  i  hadn't  considered  the  possibility  i  was  surrounded  by  kindred  spirits  all  along.  ❞

the  words  are  so  quiet,  they  straddle  the  line  of  becoming  nearly  inaudible.  again,  honeyed  gaze  flicks  down  to  the  plate  —  a  rare  and  peculiar  tenderness  to  the  halovian's  expression.  it  vanishes  as  abruptly  as  it  appeared,  brow  furrowing  slightly  as  something  else  catches  his  attention.

❝  you  missed  a  spot.  ❞  sunday  holds  up  the  plate,  gesturing  to  a  miniscule  stain  as  though  it  is  a  damning  piece  of  evidence.  ❝  please  wash  this  one  again  —  properly,  this  time.  ❞  ah.

She'd meant the question more in jest, but she probably shouldn't be surprised he took it seriously. Maybe she had meant it more seriously than she thought.

Stelle let him air out his thoughts, silently passing over dishes after they'd been scrubbed clean. Honestly, it was a bit ridiculous that such a high tech space train didn't have a dish-washing machine, but Himeko explained that chores built character.

Sounded fake to Stelle.

"Join the club." She commented dryly. A part of her mind whispered she should cut him some slack, but that part was promptly squashed. Even if she wanted to be kind, which she didn't, ripping off the bandage fast always hurt less.

"See, you fit right in. I'm not too sure about Miss Himeko and Mr. Yang's stories, but Dan Heng was in exile from his home when he joined, and both March 7th and I awoke here without any memories. You have to hit the ground running here to learn."

Honestly, Stelle wasn't sure how March did it- the girl always seemed so cheerful and sure of herself, despite those missing memories. Stelle's own suredness felt like a farce most days, a product of a whisper to be bold.

Now wasn't the time for those thoughts, however.

"Look, I'll tell you what the Conductor told me when I joined- we're not special. We all have our own problems, that's just normal. It's not something othering."

[hyacinthesiss]

i wish we could just take pictures of our feelings so that i didn’t have to keep explaining everything

[veone]

The social anxiety I have is the reason I speak the way I do on here to other people and never send asks. I have alot of thoughts but in the end I don’t want to annoy people. worst thing in the world is to be annoying according to my brain. Not being mean and hurtful I can’t imagine people doing that not on purpose oddly enough.

[ask-dbd-adawong]

WOAH Followers jumpscare

GOD thank you guys so much for the support that’s been given to me and my blogs over the past few months. I know I haven’t been the most active, unfortunately school has been burning me out, but I want to try coming back over spring break/during the summer. I miss interacting with all the friends I’ve made here and I promise when I come back I’ll try to do an event for reaching 150 followers. With that being said, if you guys have any event ideas or anything you’d wanna see lmk! 🫶