#but he is wrong about which girl and which son!!!

[punkeropercyjackson]

as someone who selfships with astrid (wuh luh wuh) and has Hiccup as a familial f/o, you are so real for hicpip !!! lore dump about your s/i sometime -🪓🐑

Okay,i will!!!!

Pip's full name is Pipsqueak Undergo Reidun(hideous names given to ward off monsters etc)and his title pre-series is Pipsqueak The Worthless

He's the son of a berkian woman named Gertrud Reidun and an african/'eastern archipeligo' man named Osmund who was raised nordic to help fit into his setting.Osmund is ambigiously black because 1.i don't know which african country my ancestors came from </3 and 2.he's long dead by the time the story starts and so is Gertrud.They were killed under mysterious circumstances when Pipsqueak was 9 so Pipsqueak lived alone in their house but didn't quite raise himself as Gobber helped him out very often with things he couldn't do and taught him how to do ones he could at that age

Since he's black/white mixed,he has black hair,brown eyes,light brown skin,a big nose and plump lips.His color motif in his outfits is purple but his actual favorite color is pink and in Httyd1,he has twin braids and bangs that mostly cover his eyes,in Rtte he has goddess braids with gold accesories and Httyd2 he has an afro with a gold metal headband.He's also almost as scrawny as Hiccup(underweight from lack of care)but like Hiccup too,puberty hits bro like a truck and he's still flatchested and short but ends up midsized and grew into his looks big time

Hiccup and Pipsqueak met when they were 4 years old and their parents were having a meeting so they brought them along and Hiccup offered Pipsqueak the last slice of his milk and cookies pie and Pipsqueak told Hiccup his freckles are cool and they were best friends ever since.Hiccup's egg cracked when he was 6 and he came out to Pipsqueak first,who accepted him happily with open arms and Pipsqueak realized he's bigender and genderfluid when he was 9 shortly after his parents' death and told only Hiccup to avoid even further isolation from Berk.The Berkians had a feeling though,with how deliberately androgynous he is

Valka like Osmund is from 'the eastern archipeligo' but a different part,being from what was The Philipines at the time so Hiccup is biracial/wasian and his facial features are notably different from fully white berkians,as is his hair texture and he has a (very) light brown tone to his skin

Pipsqueak was a shrinking violet who kept quiet most of the time due to the bullying he faced and it only got worse upon his orphaning.He's always been a real yapper around Hiccup though and this is because that's what he's actually like and he's also very in touch with femininity and loves adrenaline and causing chaos and but holds it back to not make everyone hate him.He's also an artist,adores cooking and gardening and collects pretty and weird things he finds.He's a premordial earthy black girl tbh

Httyd1-Pipsqueak is introduced in the opening intro narration by Hiccup as he runs up to a water filled barrel to knock it over to take out the fire the other teens ignored to to do the slomo walk and goes to the forge to tell Gobber to leave Hiccup alone.Gobber teases them about their closeness and when he exits,Pip tells Hiccup he'll prove everyone wrong one day and that they know he will and he feels happy they believe in him and it boosts his self-eestem and he tells him he knows too and thanks him.Pipsqueak spends the movie mainly as Hiccup's supportive and understanding best friend but has his own mini arc in learning to stand up for himself and becoming best friends with Astrid as they learn they're not as opposite as they think they are and have more reasons to love eachother and be there for one another than to hate eachother and stand divided.It's kicked off by them saying 'A shield!' at the same time during the first dragon training session and being shocked over it

Pipsqueak had a semi-intense dislike of her,seeing her as just a shallow mean girl with no issues that Hiccup was crazy to crush on(there was some jealousy there too but they didn't know that at the time),and Astrid started thinking over what she actually knew of Pipsqueak and not everyone's opinion and gained an interest in befriending another girl her age who wasn't Ruffnut(and they ain't exactly friends and Astrid dosen't want them to be.Lesbian flag emoji).She's very socially awkward and actually has autism + ocd and is trans too but she knew she's a girl so young nobody remembers or knows she's not cis.So it took her a bit to get the hang of showing it to him in a way he'd get it but she did and Pipsqueak reciprocated her efforts before he even got what she was going for.Pipsqueak fought back early on against Snotlout and the twins' torment and it only grew as part 1 of the story went on.By the end,he was Snotlout's bully than he his but in a friends and even siblings way and Fishlegs and him are hinted to geek out together a lot in the future,shown onscreen in the sequels

He knows about Toothless since the beginning as Hiccup's confidant and is really distressed at the strong posibility he'd be hurt or even killed trying to train him but encouraged him nonetheless to pursue what makes him happy and gives him a chance at acceptance,knowing how much it means to him and not telling him his fears so he could give it his all.He admits to them near the climax and Hiccup feels guilty and apologizes and makes it up to him by being a lot more attentive-which is saying a lot comsidering how he treated Pipsqueak beforehand-from that point on through the whole franchise,including the games and comics.Pip is the only dragon rider to not gain his own dragon in Httyd1 and just rides Toothless and Stormfly with Hiccup and Astrid but he gets one in Rob

Rob-Okay so much happens since it's a fulllength show so i won't do details but he's an mc in most episodes and gets a few of his own,most significantly his dragon's introduction:Cloudy Skies,a Rose Fury aka the pink and chlorokinetic Night Fury subtype.The series starts with Pipsqueak feeling leftout on not having a dragon and he encounters Cloudy Skies out on the beach and this happens multiple times throught the episode,over the course of a few days.By episode 2,he convinces her to meet the Dragon Riders and her fellow dragons and her and Toothless instantly jump on eachother on Fury connection.It's a lighthearted comedic episode until the ending,when Pipsqueak wakes up to Cloudy Skies missing.Episode 3 is the finale to the mini arc and it's revealed Rose Furys need enrichment to survive by spending time surrounded by nature and Pipsqueak dubs her with her name as it rained on the day they met but they stayed together on the beach anyway.As a twist on the Toothless x female Night Fury Variant trope ever present in Httyd self-insert fics,Cloudy Skies and Stormfly are love interests

Hiccup,Pipsqueak and Astrid are the Nightrosenadder trio and Hiccup is over Astrid by Httyd1 to establish a healthy platonic m/f bond and avoid love triangles.Platonic Hiccstrid is as close as it's canon romantic counterpart despite the no romance and Pipstrid is one of the closest relathionships to ever come out of Dreamworks tv but is queerplatonic in a sapphic way and maybe even sisterly but they don't put a label on it until adulthood,which is when their feelings fully settle and Astrid calls Pipsqueak the sister she always wanted and Pipsqueak calls Astrid everything he's not but not out of resentment anymore-He means she completes him🩵🩷🫶🏽

Rtte-Pipsqueak has earned the new title Pipsqueak The Worthy for his boundless,nonstop and near impossible heroism based on his pure selflessness and refusal to stand down when someone needs help and it's played for laughs sometimes of him acting like a fussy mother,cemmenting his team mom status in his friend group and to kids they meet on their adventures too and even to some dragon babies.His cooking skills are even better and so's his artistry and his collections now come in hoards from all the items and he's fully open with his snark and silly troublemaker tendencies now and his garden is in bloom and strong as he is.Hicpip is still slowburning but Fishlout and Ruffstrid are canonized in this run and so is aroace Tuffnut.Ironically enough,Fishlegs,Snotlout,Ruffnut,Astrid and him all assumed they were already a couple pre-befriending them and Hiccup is on default team dad mode

Pipsqueak becomes an Ormar,a half human/dragon hybrid,the first of his kind.Rtte has seven seasons instead of six and one is dedicated to this journey/Pipsqueakcentric.This includes uncovering what happened to his parents and he dedicated all his time to the mystery,to the point Hiccup has to force him to eat and sleep(once the other Dragon Riders walked in on Hiccup pining Pipsqueak down to Pip's bed to make him sleep when he was refusing to because he 'almost had it' and came to the natural romantic/shippy joke 'it's not what it looks like!!!' conclusion and teased them for a week straight).The leadup is Pipsqueak and Cloudy Skies getting kidnapped by a gang of sorcerers who worship Furys in the same way christians worship the bible i.e they ain't know jackshit and just lie and use them as an excuse to be bad people,to the point they're a cult.They perform a ritual on them to transfer Cloudy Skies' soul into Pipsqueak's body but thanks to their lack of actual Fury knowledge,it turns him into basically Cloudy Skies' twin/kid with her dna greatly in him and thus granting him powers.I'm dragonkin so there's not any angst for him upon his new species and he's happier than ever in fact

The Cult of Furies(a hint to their poserisms that aren't revealed until a bit later is they don't know the plural of the Fury species is 'Furys',not 'Furies'.They're norse,not greek)targeted Gertrud and Osmund for their extensive research of legit Fury facts,knowing them sharing it to the world as they'd announced they'd do would destroy their credability,and assasinated them at the crack of dawn.Pipsqueak can't bring himself to kill but he does throughly punish them upon busting the case:Forcing them to work as servants to the needy for the rest of their lives,placing a spell upon them with their own 'holy book' that gives them the uncontrollable compulsion to.He uses it to do spells on Hiccup and Astrid too but to give them their 'dream bodies',that is to say magic testosterone and estrogen respectively and essentially non-medical surgeries to remove Hiccup's boobs and give them their desired private parts

Dagur has a one-sided weird obsessive entitled crush on Hiccup(seriously what the fuck was up with this nigga towards him in Rtte?????Giving booktok boyfriend and not in the Katara way)and is thus extremely hostile to Pipsqueak and tries to hurt him or force him away so him and Hiccup 'can date at long last'.Hiccup is still in denial over being in love with Pipsqueak atp but tells him he'd pick them over him even if he held his axe to his throat and is found by Pipsqueak themself just as this happens,leading to Pip kicking Dagur's ass so hard he's scared of him now

Httyd 2-Hicpip is canon at last!!Like Pipverse Httyd1,this is mostly a play by play of canon but with a few add-ons and adjustments.Fishlegs and Snotlout's dragon racing attempts to impress are trying to one up eachother as boyfriends to flirt and Pipsqueak is the one in Astrid's place in the iconic Hiccstrid scenes in this,they're too good to remove!!No actually they're not actually dating yet <3 Pipsqueak comes along with Hiccup on the Valka journey and Valka figures out they're in love literally 3 convos in,including their first (re)meeting.Pipsqueak hopefully asks Valka for info on Osmund and Gertrud and she tells her stories of them on their younger days and how excited they were to have him,bringing him to a short burst of happy tears and Hiccup wraps an arm around him in comfort.While the five of them(Cloudy Skies is there too,since she's Pipsqueak dragon)are having a fun lighthearted adventure and Valka even introduces them to ube food during it,Astrid is trying to keep things in place as she helps out Stoick with the Drago situation and with Ruffnut's secretive nature recently as she can easily tell she's hiding from her despite otherwise acting normal,Ruffpuff normal way and yes,Astrid does call Ruffnut her Ruffpuff.Only in private and Gobber laughs when she accidentally lets it slip in front of him,to her embarrassment as she tells him at least she has someone to be gay with(he gets offended and says he could be gay with anyone he wanted to.....if he wanted to)

Hiccup admits his feelings for Pipsqueak outloud for the first time in his life,as he muses over his fear of the future and who he is and who he wants to be.It's not until it's said word for word by him that he fully believes it and he tries to plan out an elaborate confession he keeps fumbling and changing his mind on until we get a 'Hiccstrid but it's Hicpip' moment again,the 'Still doing that one.That's hilarious.Come here,you' kiss scene when Hiccup pulls in Pipsqueak by his waist for a kiss,only this is their first kiss,and Pipsqueak had zero confidence Hiccup loves him back but kisses back on instinct inspite of his shock.And to replace Stoick dying as a major core event of the movie,Pipsqueak uses his Ormar/Rose Fury status to train The Dark Alpha as his friend,wanting to save it upon finding out it's being mindcontrolled by Drago and severely abused by him for who knows how long and it eats him in the final battle.Pipsqueak remames his second dragon 'Lightscratch',Hiccup becomes chief because finally ending up together with Pipsqueak gave him what he needed to accept his deserved and earned role in the world,Valka returns to Berk with her and Stoick's 'future daughter in law' as enthutiastically shouted by him in front of the entire village and Ruffnut reveals the secret she was keeping from Astrid in front of the entire village too:A proposal.Astrid of course says yes in unrestrained joy and pulls her up into her arms bridal style to kiss her passionately and Snotlout comments snarkily it looks like it's makeout day now to which Fishlegs shyly asks if they can participate.Snotlout thinks about it for exactly three seconds and plants one on him

There's an after credits short about the Hicpip wedding day and a timeskip showing them and everybody else as middle-aged,with the Hicpip kids(or 'Milk and Cookies Pie Kids' as i like to call them /silly)consisting of identical twin girls named Bronwyn and Stone,an eldest son named Isagani and a toddler girl named Mark and Cloudy Skies and Stormfly have a litter of hybrid dragon babies of varying ages

And a little bonus:Pipsqueak is voiced by Estelle☺️

[befooremoonrisee]

i love when arya and sansa's character parallels each other! each of them having the looks or one parent and the personality of the other! they both travelling back in time: sansa to the vale with her mother's old friend (lf) and arya throughout the riverlands with her father's old friend ghost (gendry). sansa dreams of arya! arya hears premonitions about sansa's future! they're my girls and they love each other. being trapped by a bravoosi entity which tries to take away their identities! brienne trying to get to sansa and following in arya's footsteps! arya being heavy related to harrenhal and sansa's mythos being so similar to danelle lothson (red hair, the wolf with bat wings!!!).

also i have the theory that the maiden with her hair/the one who slays a giant in a castle of snow are both sansa and arya. sansa "killed" joffrey because of lf and is gonna kill lf. and arya is gonna be probably with the black pearl! she has the perfect opportunity to poison someone in a similar way by the orders of the faceless men and then causing their downfall (there's a theory somewhere of the bravoosi titan falling). their fates mirroring each other and then they find each other again!!!!! the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives!!!!

[hauntingblue]

Can't believe I spent so much time thinking kiku and kinemon were dead... they really got me there...

[shyswag]

Only one of the men on my dads side hasn’t called me fat, the one I’m not counting is dead

[suguae]

Haunted

Toji cannot move on, until he realized too late.

Warnings: Angst, slightest fluff (reader and baby 'gumi moment)

You were just a girl, standing in front of a man, asking him to love you.

How hard was that for him? Yes, he wasn’t good with his words but he wasn’t good at anything else either. He was just there.

Maybe because the woman he truly loved—he was still mourning over her. His sad eyes every time he watched an old couple dance together, wishing he had been doing that but with her. The cute babies babble with their mothers as Megumi babbles with his father, how he wished his wife was still here instead of you. He never said it, but that’s what it felt like. 

And perhaps that's what it was. 

Sometimes he curses himself out when he accidentally calls you his wife's name. During intimate times only. You tried—trying to keep the emotions in as if it wasn’t breaking every part of you, was the hardest part. “Look he’s walking...” You smiled at the dark haired baby who was walking towards you. Toji smiled, making sure he’d record every second of it; deep down he wished his wife was the one the baby was walking towards instead of you.

And it was wrong—so wrong. 

“This relationship, I’m with you but Toji—Toji this is the loneliest I’ve ever felt.” You whispered while he ate his leftovers, his brows still furrowed from the argument occurring earlier. Having Toji work from 9–5 wasn’t the best but good thing he had you, helping him out with so much. Picking up groceries, picking up his lovely son—until you mentioned that one of his teachers mistaken you as his biological mother. That right there was enough to make Toji angry for weeks at least.

But not this time.

He stopped chewing on his food after you spoke, waiting for more of an explanation. Which you figured he needed, “I don’t think you’re in love with me–” 

“I like you [name], a lot.” He cleared his throat. He leaned back on his chair as his arms crossed waiting for you to continue the sentence he interrupted. 

Right, he liked you a lot. These three rough years you’ve been dating Toji—that particular l word was never uttered once, not even if he was drunk, or having a special moment with you. You huffed trying to find the right words for Toji to understand. That was until little Megumi started crying from his room. “I’ll try to put him back to sleep, finish eating.” He watched as your fragile little body sulked its way to Megumi’s room.

He knew this was gonna happen, he knew you were bound to leave him sooner or later. 

You smiled as you opened the door to see the little Megumi standing on top of his little bed. His hands wiping his tears as he ran towards you, his arms now wrapping around your legs. “Sleep with mama and papa.” He cried out as you leaned down to pick up the little boy. “[name] and papa, not mama okay?” You corrected him, if Toji were to find out that he had been calling you that, then that argument would’ve climaxed.

The little boy nodded, his tears now gone as you swayed him around. “Sleep with you.” He mumbled, leaning his head on your shoulder as he played with a strand of your hair. “Just for tonight.” You whispered, watching Megumi pick up his head and smile. Content with your answer. 

Toji’s heart could just swell at the sight. You treated his son as if he was your own and nothing looked so much better right now, except for the fact that he wished it was his wife.

Megumi was now soundly sleeping between you and Toji, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” His eyes shut tightly hearing those piercing words leave your mouth. It hurt when his wife left him, but this hurt was different—different because he knew it was coming yet he didn’t want to do anything about it. 

“I’m sorry—”

“You don’t need to be the one apologizing.” He watched your soft gaze stare at completely nothing. He was confused, this was his fault. He never treated you how you needed deserved to be treated. “It was my fault for throwing myself at a man who simply was not ready.”

The next morning was silent—baby ‘gumi was confused at the saddened look on your face. Constantly walking up to you asking if you were okay. He was still just a baby, yet he read the room so well. “I’m sure we can work this out—” Toji now sitting next to you on the couch, some cartoon playing in the back as Megumi’s little head sat on your lap. “You’re not ready, Toji.” You nodded, eyes still glued on the tv as if it was meant for you and not the little Megumi. 

“And how are you so sure—”

“Tell me you love me then.” Your eyes are now fixed on Toji’s. It was hard, he felt as if his mouth had been glued shut. You sigh, bringing your gaze back to the tv, “I love you—but it’s hard when it’s one sided Toji.” 

It hurt much more, seeing you drive away as the clueless Megumi waved you out. Poor thing thinks you’re simply going to the store. The house that once felt like home was so dull now. Toji sat little ‘gumi down on the couch. 

His constant, “mama?” or “[name]?” while he kept his gaze on the door every so often. Nothing prepared Toji for this. Megumi cried that he wanted to sleep with his mama and papa, his heart swelled knowing that he had been talking about you.

You were gone, just like his wife. But it hurt—it hurt so much more knowing that you’re alive trying your best to…move on. He stayed up late that same night, stumbling upon a video from two years ago. When Megumi first learned how to walk. You and Toji had just started dating but the look of happiness plastered your face as you watched the little baby walking. 

That was one thing Toji never forgot about, how much you loved kids. Telling him how once you had kids of your own you would finally be able to live in peace. How he heard of it less and less as the years went on, he wonders if you still think that.

next part ->

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ONE FOR THE MONEY, TWO FOR THE SHOW

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: you and satoru, your fake boyfriend, have awards to accept and places to be. so how'd you two end up fucking in a bathroom? NSFW

contents: fem!reader. semi-public sex, p –> v, blowjob, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, you two get walked in on at the end (kinda). references hungry for more. not proofread, ignore any minor mistakes. 3.5K words.

“you two are so cute together,” the interviewer sighs, looking at you and satoru in turn. “please, tell us more about your relationship!”

satoru laughs, resting his hand on your back and pulling you into his side. you put on a smile and instinctually put a hand on his chest, pretending not to notice the way he stiffens up at the contact. “where do i even begin?” satoru asks dryly, turning and looking down at you affectionately, and he’s almost a good enough actor for you to believe there’s any real emotion behind those cold blue eyes.

two weeks ago, satoru’s media team came to you with a request for you two to start dating as a way of gaining more attention from your fans. naturally, you declined—it’s not like you’d gain anything from the deal but the burden of being paraded around on the arm of the man you hated—satoru gojo, the cocky son of some famous actor in the 90’s. but after multiple increases in the amount of money satoru’s team was willing to throw at you, you finally agreed under the condition that this arrangement would end the second you wanted it to.

“i’m sure you’ve seen our latest movie on netflix,” satoru starts, looking back up at the interviewer, whose eyes have practically turned into hearts. “the one with the serial killer, yeah? well, it started from there and just grew into more.”

“i guess you could say the attraction on the screen wasn’t all acting,” you add with a knowing smile. good thing you were a decent enough actor to pretend as if you weren’t just lying through your teeth, otherwise the millions of dollars in your bank account would all be gone. 

the interviewer laughs and turns to the camera, saying something about how the chemistry between you and satoru was what really made the movie a hit—in fact, it might even be the reason you’re both getting nominated for best actor and actress.

“well, if you’d excuse us, i think we should get back to the party,” satoru jumps in, nodding his head at the interviewer in thanks. he removes his hand from your back as you follow him to the main area, weaving through crowds of fans and interviewers on his way there. you walk at his side, heels clacking against the freshly polished floor. satoru dips his head and whispers, “hold my hand.”

you scrunch up your nose and shake your head. “no thanks, it’s not like anyone’s watching right now. it’s way too crowded.”

“just do it,” satoru mutters, grabbing your hand anyways. when you start to pull away, he fixes you with a stern look and adds, “they’ll think something’s wrong if you don’t.”

“ugh, fine.”

two hours pass, filled with other actors’ remarks on how good you and satoru make as a couple. suguru geto, one of satoru’s close friends who had played a cult leader in a recent documentary even said that you might be the girl who could fix satoru. yeah, right.

“so, when do awards start?” you ask satoru, swirling your drink and relishing the sound of the ice clacking against the side of the glass. he shrugs and takes a swig from his own cup, which looks suspiciously like apple cider disguised as champagne. “really? you’re nominated for like, four awards, and you don’t even know when you’re getting them?”

satoru laughs carelessly and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on the short cut of your dress. “at this point, i’ve got so many awards that it doesn’t even matter anymore. and by the way, you look really good in that dress. oh, wait, didn’t i buy it for you?”

“you’re not smooth.”

“then why am i nominated for best actor, huh?”

“because the system’s absolute shit, obviously. otherwise toji would win every time.”

satoru groans and drinks the last couple sips of his drink, rolling his eyes. “don’t even mention that piece of shit.” you shrug in response, hiding your smile behind your glass. a couple years back, satoru had lost a role to toji and to his despair, the movie did really well, despite what he’d promised to the producers who had turned him down. and it looks like he’s still bitter over that, and all of a sudden, the perfect plan to piss satoru off appears in your head.

“look, it’s toji right there!” you gasp, setting down your drink and hopping off your seat, walking over to toji while ignoring satoru’s warnings. “oh, hi, i’m a big fan,” you say to the tall, well-built man, smiling bashfully. toji turns and looks down at you, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

“hey, pretty, you’re the girl in that movie with the serial killer, yeah?” he asks, crossing his arms. you nod and internally marvel at how tall he is—especially compared to satoru, who, by any standards, is pretty damn tall. toji looks you up and down, taking his sweet time drinking in the way your dress hugs your figure. “that scene in the alley was really fuckin’ good,” toji adds conversationally. “you’re definitely winnin’ best actress for that.”

anyone who’s watched the movie knows that the scene he’s referring to is the one where you get fucked by satoru against a dark alley wall—and you’ve seen enough edits of the scene to know exactly why it’s getting all the hype.

“aw, thanks,” you say coyly, resting a hand on your hip and tilting your head. “y’know, i’ve always wanted to star in a movie with you,” you continue, hearing satoru come up behind you in the background. you ignore the sickeningly obvious way he clears his throat and flutter your eyelashes at toji, who’s eying you with interest.

“i’d like that. i can probably pull some strings,” toji replies with a smirk. his dark eyes flicker from you to satoru and his smile turns almost patronizing. “and who’s this?”

“her boyfriend. and i really hate to interrupt this friendly chat, but she’s not up for grabs,” satoru snaps, wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you back to your spot at the bar. you shoot satoru an indignant glare, but receive no reply besides his tightening jaw. toji laughs and waves you off, mouthing “call me” at you when you turn back apologetically. 

satoru drags you by the hand to one of the bathrooms, shoving open the door with the side of his arm and pulling you inside. there’s a long, shiny counter, which you become very familiar with once your fake boyfriend hoists you up and sits you on it. “the fuck was that?” satoru hisses, narrowing his eyes accusingly.

“what, we were just talki—”

“i don’t like the way he was looking at you,” satoru interrupts, crossing his arms tensely. he fixes you with a cold stare and you fidget uncomfortably with the hem of your dress, which you now realize is rather short. 

“okay, and?” you reply irritably, starting to get annoyed by the way satoru keeps patronizing you. “it’s not like we’re even dating, gojo,” you snap, emphasizing the use of his last name.

“yeah? well, i don’t need my ‘girlfriend’ slutting herself out to the guy everyone knows i hate,” satoru fires back, taking a step forward. his palms rest on the counter on either side of your exposed legs, and you suddenly notice how red satoru’s face is. the flush in his cheeks wasn’t as noticeable underneath the bar’s dim lights, but here, it’s rather obvious.

“are you jealous?” you ask incredulously, unable to suppress the cheeky smile that finds itself on your face. satoru’s jaw slackens and his eyes widen, and that’s enough of a sign for you to confirm it—satoru gojo, your fake boyfriend, is jealous. he doesn’t reply immediately, so you laugh, throwing back your head and giggling at the way satoru’s petty rivalry seems to be only one of the reasons he was so eager to get you away from toji. “aw, that’s so cute, but we aren’t even dating, sweetheart,” you coo, reaching out and caressing the side of satoru’s face.

he instantly swats your hand away, rolling his eyes at your laughter. “well, we still have to act like it, you idiot,” he mutters, leaning over you and eying the low neckline of your dress. you instinctively cross your arms and glare at him, and satoru only cocks an eyebrow in return. “so, if we were actually dating, do y’know what i’d be doing right now?”

“what?” you decide to humor him.

satoru’s demeanor completely changes at your question, going from pissed and flushed red to almost playful.

“this.” 

and just like that, satoru slips his slender fingers underneath the bottom of your dress and pulls it up, exposing your black, lacy panties. 

“gojo, what the—”

“shh, it’s all for the show,” he whispers teasingly, brushing one finger against the warm skin of your thigh. you involuntarily shiver from his touch, and against all rational impulse, find yourself wanting more.

in the acting community, satoru was well-known for being a stuck-up brat, and when you two had first announced your relationship, plenty of actors doubted it. after all, how could you, the classy it-girl of the movie industry, date an asshole like satoru? but even you were surprised at how easily people started to believe it when you two interacted in front of them. you’ve been told that you two had a rather unexpected burst of chemistry together, and that your relationship might actually make it.

what a shame.

satoru hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties and tugs them down, raising an eyebrow when you don’t protest. he maintains eye contact with you as he slides your panties down your thighs, exposing your embarrassingly-wet cunt. satoru looks almost as surprised as you do at how soaked you are, even as he runs two fingers over your slit before sliding them in. you hate how good it feels—it’s been a while since you got a chance to sleep with another man, especially since you’ve been stuck with satoru for the past two weeks. 

“shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” satoru murmurs, scoffing in mild disbelief as he meets your eyes and smiles. he curls his fingers upwards, causing your thighs to reflexively close before satoru reopens them. “so, wanna explain, sweetheart?” he tsks, tapping your thigh with his other hand.

you make a face and look away, cheeks heating up the longer satoru waits for a response. “it’s probably from toji,” you snap back after a moment. satoru laughs sarcastically, shaking his head almost condescendingly and pulling out his fingers.

“nice try, hon,” he says sweetly, lifting his fingers to his mouth and licking off your slick in one smooth motion. satoru exhales heavily and swallows, taking his time in doing so. “want me to go grab toji to join us?” satoru asks, forcing a smile on his lips. “i’m sure he’d love to watch you beg—”

“shut it, gojo,” you interrupt, swatting away his hand, which somehow found its way back in between your thighs. “we have an award show to get to, there’s not enough time for this bullshi—”

that was a mistake. satoru instantly lifts you off the counter and, ignoring the rather wide range of curse words you throw at him, sets you on the ground and starts unzipping his pants. “shh, we got all the time in the world. they can’t give an award to someone who isn’t there, right?” satoru cooes, threading one of his hands through your hair and pulling you closer to him. his other hand finishes unzipping his pants, freeing his already-hard dick.

you look up at satoru, forcing yourself to act unimpressed—even though you know damn well he can see through your half-hearted attempt at hiding your real feelings. “s’ that all?” you ask, hating yourself for the crack in your voice when satoru laughs at you. 

“ah, i think it’ll be more than enough for your pretty face to handle. now c’mon, open nice n’ wide for me,” satoru instructs you, reaching down and tilting up your chin as he guides his dick into your mouth. against all rational impulse, you let him, all while glaring daggers at him from below. 

you run your tongue over his flushed red tip, and satoru sucks in a harsh breath, chest tensing as you continue kitten-licking him. his hand moves from your chin to the top of your head, and he pushes your mouth farther onto his dick, jaw tightening the more your tongue laps at him. 

sure, maybe you shouldn’t be sucking off your fake boyfriend in a bathroom where anyone could walk in at any time, but it’s the first time you’ve felt this way in too long, and you weren’t ready to let this feeling go just yet. so you humor satoru and moan, smiling when you feel the way his whole body loosen up at the soft vibration. “f-fuck, didn’t think you’d actually know how to give a man a good time,” satoru mutters through gritted teeth. 

“really?” you ask, pulling away from his dick for a moment to catch a breath. “we fucked for that movie, though, and you seemed pretty damn satisfied then, didn’t you?” you say in-between heaving breaths. satoru scoffs and shakes his head, pushing your mouth back onto his dick.

“yeah, but that was for a movie. this isn’t,” he clarifies, eyes fixed on the mix of spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin as you continue sucking him off. “fuck, why are you good at this?” he hisses, almost incredulously—it’s as if he was hoping you wouldn’t be this good for him for some reason, but now’s not the time to reason through it or wonder what’s going on in his mind.

satoru shudders around you, and you feel the hair threaded through your hair tighten. it’s not enough to be painful, but his grip still makes you whine from the increased pressure. his breathing becomes more shallow as you run your tongue over his length, and his foot starts to bounce on the floor as he gets closer to cumming down your throat. “shit, baby, m’ close,” satoru confirms a moment later, tilting his chin back and glaring at the ceiling. 

“fuckin’ hell, i—” he cuts himself off with a loud, lengthy groan, pushing your head even farther on his dick and tensing as the full force of satoru’s orgasm hits him. he lets loose a flurry of curse words as he cums in your mouth, filling you up to the point where it starts dripping down the side of your face. it’s hot and salty, two sensations that you normally wouldn’t put together, but in this moment it’s all you can think about as you slide one hand downwards towards your throbbing pussy.

still reeling from his surprisingly quick orgasm, satoru leans back onto the counter and pants for air. as for you, you’re starting to want some of his pleasure for yourself—so you slip two fingers inside your cunt and pulse them back and forth, needy moans slipping out of your lips at every thrust. “gojo,” you call, looking up at him and licking his cum off your lips. the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cum dripping down your lips and fingers knuckle-deep in your cunt is enough for satoru to cum again, but he forces himself to maintain some level of control.

“jus’ call me satoru,” he murmurs, reaching down and tugging you up to your feet. it’s hard to stand while your legs are trembling, but thankfully, satoru does most of the work for you by positioning you against the wall, back facing him as he aligns his still-hard dick in front of your dripping pussy. “say it,” satoru mutters in your ear, resting one hand on your waist and the other on the wall just above your shoulder. “say my name f’me, sweetheart.”

“s-satoru,” you breathe, and a moment later, your fake boyfriend—who doesn’t feel so fake anymore—shoves himself inside of your welcoming cunt. you’re already wet enough to the point where he doesn’t really need to prep you at all, but you’re still just tight enough so that every thrust feels like he’s breaking you down in the best way possible. 

“y’feel so good,” satoru groans, resting his chin on your shoulder and snapping his hips back and forth, setting a steady yet harsh pace. you stutter out satoru’s name again and again as your vision goes blurry, with your only thoughts revolving around the dick shoved up inside you and the man praising you in your ear. 

satoru curses when he feels your walls clench around him, breaths growing shallower with every thrust. “arch your back for me, princess,” he mutters, eyes fluttering rapidly as he squeezes your waist. “yeah, jus’ like that,” satoru praises, breath brushing against the side of your face as he continues thrusting into you. “how’re you feeling, pretty? s’ this all right with you?”

you nod shakily in response, swollen lips hanging wide open as you gasp for air. satoru clicks his tongue and slows his pace, dipping his chin and studying your face. “gonna need you to use your words, angel.”

“m' good, i wanna cum,” you mumble, a loud moan slipping through your lips when satoru laughs and resumes fucking you a millisecond after you answer. 

“i’m gonna fill you up, baby, i promise,” satoru whispers, and his words are barely audible over the lewd, sticky sounds coming from everywhere. all your senses are directed at satoru—the man you really shouldn’t be fucking right now, but all your inhibitions fade away as you feel your stomach start to tighten as you approach your orgasm.

“fuck, satoru, m’ close,” you whimper, arching your back even more and clenching your teeth shut. satoru sucks in a sharp breath as he confirms that he’s also about to cum, and his thrusts grow sloppier the closer he gets. “don’t stop, please, i—”

from there on, your words mix themselves together, with the only understandable word being satoru’s name. your fake boyfriend spills into you first, cum leaking from his tip and mixing with yours as you both chase your releases. and it hits you hard—if it wasn’t for satoru, you would’ve crumbled to the ground from the sheer force of your orgasm. all you can see is white as satoru finishes emptying his load inside of you, and the sticky, viscous liquid trails down the warm skin of your thighs as it overflows from your abused hole.

“shit,” satoru mutters, stumbling backwards and eyeing his now-soiled clothes. “this was a couple thousand dollars, damn it.”

you exhale a breathy laugh and turn around, leaning against the wall and meeting his half-lidded eyes. “you kidding? my dress was way more than that, and there’s no way i can wear that out now.”

satoru grins, running a hand through his ruffled hair and walking back towards you, touching your waist and sliding a finger over your dripping cunt. “you were so good f’me, baby. what were we arguing about again?”

“i have no idea,” you mumble, watching satoru lick his finger clean. he’s shameless—even as clarity returns to both of your minds, he still insists on dragging the moment on. not that you mind—that was the best sex you’d had in a while, even if it was too fast and in a bathroom.

“we should get back to the ceremony,” you say distractedly, pulling down your dress and frowning at the new wrinkles. “can i wear your suitjacket? i don’t want people to see this.”

satoru sticks out his bottom lip and pouts, looking you up and down. “but i like it. you look like you just got fucked by a really hot guy. oh, wait, that’s me!”

“you’re an asshole.”

before satoru can reply, the bathroom door opens, and you both jump out of your skins. thankfully, satoru had time to pull his pants on, otherwise it would’ve been significantly more embarrassing. suguru pokes his head in the bathroom and rolls his eyes when he sees you and satoru, and an exasperated sigh slips out of his lips when he sees your fucked-out states. 

“are you two seriously fucking during the awards?” suguru snaps, amber eyes glittering with dry amusement. you look away bashfully, tugging down your dress even farther out of embarrassment. satoru shrugs nonchalantly and walks over to suguru, offering his hand in search of a fistbump. 

suguru eyes him dubiously and crosses his arms. “did you wash your hands?”

“heh, no, not yet.”

ignoring satoru’s smug grin, suguru swats his arm away with the back of his hand, disgust evident all over his face. “gross, fuck off.” he turns to you and arches an eyebrow, looking you up and down disapprovingly. “you two should clean up before coming outside, otherwise they’ll probably take away your awards,” suguru adds, wrinkling his nose. “i’ll tell them you’re on your way.” 

“okay, thanks,” you mutter, face warmer than ever. suguru nods in response and leaves, and when you and satoru finally return to the awards ceremony, there’s plenty of whispers about you two, and most of them aren’t very family-friendly.

well, at the very least, nobody’s gonna doubt that you two were a couple now!

[timmydraker]

Tim accidently referring to the Joker as Dad but those who know about Joker Jr aren’t present and so everyone is left with the ‘realisation’ that Tim is the son of the biggest nightmare to their family.

It’s probably Jason and Steph, her there to bother Tim but Jason went to the manor for food and the two naturally started arguing. Maybe Jason tells Tim to stop costing on his case and prove a point be made against blonde, but Tim just offhandedly goes, “Later, I think my dad broke out of Arkham again but the guards aren’t doing anything. Maybe they’re in on it…”

The two present naturally look at each other with confusion and for the first time stop bickering to peak over his shoulder and see what his case is because, holy shit Tim had a villain for a dad and didn’t tell us? Only to see numerous photos of the Joker in his cell and many reports over the last week of how he’s been behaving and Jason…

Steph pushes the man out of the room when she sees his face go from frozen fear to anger, thinking it’s towards Tim and his secrecy and, while she totally gets that, now isn’t the time.

Though when they get into the Jason starts a rant about how Bruce and Dick should have told him that the monster had a child, even if that child wasn’t Tim! Jason protects kids! Did they think he’d hurt him just because of who his father is?

No!

If anything, he’d become the kids full time body guard to stop that mad man from making Tim into another version of himself!

The two naturally go to tell the others, pulling Damian, Cass and Duke into a mostly unused room and telling them what they discovered, all while Tim stays in the library working on his case.

Cass is beyond worried but also confused because he doesn’t seem to have any physical characteristics of the Joker or Harley, but maybe the mother is different? Perhaps it’s still Janet and either she had a fling with the Joker or something far worse, which makes the young girl enraged on the woman’s behalf.

Damian makes a comment about him killing Tim, not in a serious manner but more as an option, but Duke shuts it down, saying that having a villain for a parent doesn’t mean anything about who you will be. He points out those in the family of that nature and other heroes like Superboy.

When asked why they didn’t get Dick or Babs involved, Jason says they defiantly know and lied about it.

It’s only after another three hours of working that Tim catches himself referring to the Joker as dad and shuts his laptop, making his way to Bruce’s room to hide under the older man’s bed like he usually does when that happens, only to overhear what his siblings are saying.

Tim presses his ear against the door to hear better.

“If that maniac had a kid, surely he’d have told everyone he had an heir or something.” That’s Steph’s voice, filled with worry that only he and Cass could detect as she hides it under a whiney tone.

Jason is next to respond, “maybe he doesn’t know? I mean, did Tim ever even interacted with him before he became Robin?”

It doesn’t take much more than that for Tim to realise that he must have been talking aloud again or absently answered someone earlier and misspoke in front of them.

Panic fills him as he avoids telling Bruce when he gets bad, even if it’s just a small thing, because the older man will start of being a concerned parent then go into Batman mode and only just stop himself from putting Tim in the confinement cell. Sure Tim came up with the idea of the cell so he wouldn’t hurt anyone if his conditioning got too bad, but he’s learnt the signs. He’s not a mindless drone, he still knows who he is and doesn’t hear someone talking to him or anything like that.

He just… sometimes forgets the Joker hurt him.

It’s not Tim’s fault that memories of watching TV with him and Harley, tucked between them with a big bowl of ice cream felt better than most memories of his real parents.

But he knows it’s wrong, always comes back to calling the Joker his enemy.

Bruce just doesn’t get that.

Tim hears them talk a bit more, theories about who his mother might be, if Tim is safe at the manor, if Joker knows he has a son…

Opening the door, Tim stands there and stares at them as all eyes snap to him in alarm.

He doesn’t let anybody speak, cutting them all off quickly, “He’s not my dad. Go the cave and search for file number 26557933301-JJ and put in the code AGELAST, all caps.”

With that he turns and leaves, walking at first before running to Bruce’s room to hide.

He goes to family dinner and pretends not to notice the quietness or how Jason is still there, eating his food quietly and waiting for the ball to drop.

Naturally, Damian is the one to say what he wants first, “So why is okay that Tim shot the joker but I got in trouble for stabbing Bane?”

Everyone groans.

[leghorned]

HE FROM ON HIGH RAVING EVERYMAN

STRANGER-IN-BATHROOM STAIRMASTER

disco elysium-inspired portraits, thoughts below

kendall — the boy prince with a crown of thorns, imprisoned at the top. he overlooks the city, painfully distant from it all. a reflection in broken glass haunts him; his father, the waiter, himself. shattered and bloodied and dripping onto him still. so high and so blue, a puzzle barely together. his gaze tells you he knows how pathetic he is.

connor — the relatable uber-rich. the eldest son, forgotten, overtaken by the background. his political ambitions are yet another hobby to fill a void; his ranch, his wine, his presidency. he is pastel, faded, swathed in republican red that even then is all vanity. sees himself in screens. he is blowing away in the wind.

roman — doing the dirty work in the dirty room. he's ready to sling over offers and quick wit but there is a childishness about him, like he's scrawled in crayon. something's off, something's wrong with him and you can't figure out what exactly. he lives within it, then: slimy and blood-hot and close. his eyes dart around. the trained dog that might just bite when he's nervous.

shiv — all that effort to go nowhere. a girl with a pearl earring: wealthy, intriguing, unknowable. can't be bothered to face you fully, but baring her back in the process. bathed in the lines of light that her father gives her in inches. she is doomed to be pushed, and to be helped back up, which might be worse than the falling. exuding something sharp, startling, hot pink: forever pinky.

and if you got here... THANKS 4 reading & looking

[cherry-hulu]

— Share

Synopsis: You knew what you were doing was risky, you knew that it was wrong. But your step son just does you so good that it's hard to deny.

Warnings: KMG x reader x CSC, step-son/son!kmg, husband!dad CSC, milf !reader, oral (f and m), creampie, lactation, belly buldge, double penetration, overstimulation, reader gets called mommy, headlocked, can't even put in to words how messy and kinky this one is.

Muffled moans and slurping sounds echoes the room, with your step son, Mingyu, eating your out wet juicy cunt. You try your best to minimize the noise, afraid that your husband might catch you.

You knew what you were doing was risky, you knew that it was wrong. But your step son just does you so good that it's hard to deny.

Mingyu had two of his hands gripping your inner thighs keeping you from squirming away from him. All of a sudden a finger slides in your hole, slowly moving in and out, a thumb accompanies it rubbing the spots Mingyu wasn't licking.

The feeling of fingers and tongue lapping all over you makes you lose your senses, eyes rolling back with your hands gripping the pillow of which your face was planted into.

The hands on your thighs strengthens, planting you in place when you start to shake as the feeling of overstimulation washes over you.

But if Mingyu still had his hands on your thighs.. then whose hands were playing with your pussy?

The realization hits you, panicking when you look back only to meet with not only your step son going down on you, but also the gaze of your now husband, Seungcheol.

It was your husbands fingers that was rubbing and fucking you. A smirk builds on his face when he sees you turn your head nack to him, eyes rolling to the back of yout head as you tremble under the duos demise when you cum.

Planting your head back on the pillow, you moan relentlessly when the two doesn't stop, Mingyu aggressively licking all your juices and Seungcheol harshly circling his thumb on you with his pointer finger curling inside of you.

"P.. please.." You moan, putting your face to the side in hopes of catching their attention. "Please what hm?" Seungcheol says, his fingers never stopping and even going faster when he asks the question.

How the fuck were you gonna reply to him now? Mingyu chuckles on you when he feels your pussy getting wetter, he was so close to being deemed as pussy drunk but even so he will never complain.

The feeling was overwhelming, you begin to pant with your ass subconsciously pushing against them. "T.. too much." You manage to croak out before releasing a loud moan and squirting all over two.

But even then, they still keep going. Forcing you to ride your high. "That's enough, we want mommy conscious when we fuck her." Your step dad says pulling put of you before gripping Mingyu's hair forcibly stopping him.

Mingyu looks so debauched, his mouth drips of his saliva and your juices, eyes looking dazed high off your pussy. He wipes his face with the back of his hands before standing up to leave the room to get you some water.

Seungcheol licks the dripping juice on the sude of your thighs clean before flipping you front to face them. Your pretty pink lacey night gown was pushed all the way until your boobs, serving as the only layer between you and the world.

"Did so good baby.. gonna give us more yeah? Gonna behave and let your daddy and brother do what they want? That's what a good girl does doesn't she?" Seungcheol sweetly says to you as he trails kisses all over your body before finally taking off your gown leaving you naked.

He licks his lips around your tits leaving them wet and sloberry before reaching your lips to give you small but sweet pecks. You look just as dazed as Mingyu when he pulled away, only that you look more on the dumb side.

Your husband smiles when you look him the eyes and do your best to nod at him. You were so easy. They love it.

Seungcheol was anything but dumb. He knew what was going on between you and Mingyu, knew about your late night endeavours. He noticed everything.

Noticed when you were secretly giving your step brother head with him in the living room during the duos movie night.

Noticed when he was 'helping' you with doing the dishes, when in reality, he has your dress pulled up exposing your cunt while he slowly fucks you with either his dick or his fingers.

Noticed how you adjust yourself when you were sitting on your step sons lap, moving to perfectly slot his dick between your pussy lips and moving forward and back to rub yourself on him when you had to sit on during a road trip.

Noticed Mingyu's glistening lips after he comes out of your shared room, completely ditching the breakfast served by his step mom because he 'already ate'.

He was supposed to be mad and upset that you were letting your step son go down on him when your relationship had no problems.

He was supposed to be angry when he saw his son eat you out in his bedroom because the two of you thought he was gone for work.

But for some sick reasons, he wasn't. He actually loved it. His dick got fucking hard everytime he connected the dots when Mingyu fucked you. He knew he was a fucked up man with fucked up fantasies, but he never knew it was possible to live them. So when he saw the opportunity, he took it with all his heart.

He watches the way you look up at his son with your eyes when he assists you in drinking the cup of water he brought back for you. You looked so slutty and submissive, with your boobs hanging out, it was so tempting to suck on them.

And suck on them he did. Seungcheol moves towards you, laying you on the headboard to suck your boobs. Your hands found itself to his hair rubbing and gripping it while you moan.

Mingyu joins in not long after, sucking your other boob, hands resting on the flat of your stomach imagining what if he and his dad put a baby in you. He wondered who the baby would take after. Maybe it could be twins, one of his dad and one of his.

"My boys.. treating mommy so well." You moan throwing your head back, both hands now twined between their hairs tugging and pulling.

Seungcheol was loving this, sharing his wife with his son was not on his mind whatsoever when he got married to you but alike his son, he was not one to complain.

"Fuck what?" Mingyu curses deatattching himself from your boobs when he feels a different taste on his tongue.

Seungcheol's eyes widen he tastes it too, sucking hard on your nipple and it just keeps coming. He pulls away as well and was met with the view of your boobs.. leaking with milk.

Their eyes widen at you while you bite your lips groping your tits, you weren't pregnant but there are some cases when you would lactate during sex. This was the first time the two had witnessed it. "You like it?" You say seductively, spreading your legs at them.

You were a sight to see. Boobs messy and filled with milk, pussy wet and dripping, basically presenting yourself all for them to enjoy.

"I fucking love you." Seungcheol mutters before diving in to kiss you harshly on the lips. Mingyu goes back on your boobs sucking aggressively eager to taste your milk.

Your husbands hands found its way to your cunt spreading it before leaning down to blow on it making you shiver. "Just to let you know, we're not gonna stop until we put a baby in you." Seungcheol says slapping your cunt.

You couldn't tell whether he was serious or not. But judging from your previous talks about pregnancy and him wanting a daughter, it probably was serious...

Seungcheol leaves the bed to strip himself showing his full glory, begore coming to his son to remove the last piece of clothing he has on before he was naked.

Now all three of you were exposed, two big and hard dicks stand before you and you bite your lip at the sight. Mingyu deattaches once again, using his tongue to clean his lips this time.

They slap their dicks across your face smiling to themselves when you close your eyes and wrap your handa around the two of them. You alternate sucking the tip of their cocks before being forced to swallow Seungcheol's dick.

"Awhe dad!" Mingyu pouts when his dad does so. "Greedy fuck. Mom already gave you head earlier, you even got to eat her out." Seungcheol rolls his eyes as you suck his dick, talking casually as if you weren't giving him head with his equally hard son in the room.

"Yeah but you already got to fuck her today!" Mingyu complains even more even raising his hands. "You can fuck mommy now baby, I'm already prepped for you." You say looking at him in the eyes as you lick and suck the sides of Seungcheol's dick.

The three of you adjust your position, with you on your fours in the middle of the bed. Your husband in front of you fucking your mouth, and his son behind you protruding you pussy.

"You already know she likes it. Go crazy and make her loose until she can fit two." Seungcheol says to his son while pushing his cock deep down your throat leaving you with no room for reactions except for a teary and eye choking sounds. Your husband looks down on your widened eyes smirking after he says that.

Mingyu nods with a smile on his face, giving your pussy a good few taps with his dick before finally pushing in. He bottoms in you on an instant, your cunt immediately adjusting to his familiar size.

The two moves rhythmically on you. When Mingyu would thrust in, Seungcheol would go back, ensuring that you were never left unnocupied. You were already on your second orgasm for the night and you'd barely even started.

Your cum gave Mingyu more freedom to move, the squelch of your pussy and the sounds of skin clapping only further intensifies at that. His hands explores the back side of your body as if worshipping it.

"Doing so well for us Mommy, I love you." Your step son moves to kiss your neck now harshly thrusting in you with his hands playing with your clit.

Your throat tightens around Seungcheol when you feel him cum deep down inside of you. His cock staying in your mouth completely plugging it preventing any possible spills. Mingyu follows soon after, digging his cock deep and cumming inside of you.

Mingyu sits back on his legs, pulling you up to sit on his thighs, cum still dripping from your mouth and pussy. "Fucking whore, bet you love this don't you? Your husbands cum in your mouth and his sons cum leaking from your pussy?" Seungcheol curses opening your legs for them.

Your eyes were half lidded and as always you just nodded at what he says despite being incoherent to you.

Mingyu kisses down your neck, leaving his own set of hickies and Seungcheol follows sucking and bruising your body all over. "Ours. No one elses." He mutters licking all over you before stopping at yout boobs to suck it again.

You stay like that for a while, the fwo worshipping your body and slobbering all over it.

Their dicks hardened in no time, slowly they stop adjusting your body to accommodate the two.

Mingyu rubs his dick from behind you befoy slowly lifting your whole body, lining up his cock and dropping you on it like it was nothing. You moaned and rolled your eyes backwarda when you feel his dick immediately hit your g spot.

Your step-sons hands wrap around your waist moving you back and forth helping you ease him in, before leaning your whole body back on him and spreading your legs for his dad.

Seungcheol slots his hard dick in between your pussy folds getting all wet and sloppy. He puts a finger in first, stretching the sides of your cunt with Mingyu's dick still in you. Then he adds another, and then another, and another until it was four fingers in.

He stretches your pussy out first leaving you a moaning mess, gripping Mingyu's biceps as he does so. "I think that's enough, 'no?" Mingyu says to his dad.

"Just say your impatient." Seungcheol grunts but agrees inwardly. He positions himself in front of you, nudging the tip of his cock first teasingly before finally pushing in.

The stretch was unfathomable leaving you in tears. Mingyu, ever so sweet, coos at you telling you praises and sweet nothing while his dad pushes in. "A little bit more mommy, doing so good, so well for us. That's a good girl, c'mon be good for us." He whispers to you kissing your neck slowly.

Finally the two had fitted inside on you, Seungcheol rubs your clit to ease the feeling. "Good job." He says kissing your forehead.

They waited patiently until you nodded before slowly moving. They had created a rhythm just like earlier, never leaving you empty.

Their dicks formed a bulge on your stomach showing two outlines of their cocks. The view made them quicken their pace loving the way two different cocks alternate on your belly.

You couldn't stay still on Mingyu's lap overwhelmed by the pleasure making Mingyu put you in a headlock trapping your face in between his biceps making you sit still.

You came much earlier than them shaking relentlessly but it goes unnoticed because the two just keeps going. Chasing their own highs not caring about your sobs, whimpers, and pleas as you become overstimulated.

You could barely form your words, unable to warn them when you squirted, completely cock drunk. But they did not seem to care, even going at a faster pace when they felt the liquid gush all over them.

You were basically just a fuck toy for them, fucking and treating as they please. But in no waya did you mind. It felt so good, knots keep forming and releasing on your stomach, your chest heaves as you pant.

Your husband had his head thrown back, veins popping on his neck while sweat drips all over his body, swerving around his abs and chest.

Your step-son was the same, whimpering and groaning in your ear, eyes rolled back from the pleasure.

"So close mommy.." Mingyu whimpers groping your tits adding milk to the liquids drenching your body. You just sat there completely cock dumb, not thinking about anything except for cock, cock, cock, cock.

Mingyu stills when he cums deep inside of you again, his headlock tightens around you chocking you from breathing. A loud groan comes out of Seungcheol when he cums as well, not long after his son.

Cum leaks from your pussy despite two dicks plugging you in. It was too much to contain. You tremble even more when you squirt again hands scrambling finding for something to grip.

Seungcheol holds your hand in his, pushing in deep to secure himself in.

You stay like that for a while, the duo peppering you with kisses and sweet praises.

"We might welcome a new member to the family soon, we're pretty heavy cummers." Seungcheol chuckles, feeling the bulge on your stomach and the now sludgy feel due to their cum mixing inside.

"Got that trait from you. The big dick as well I guess." Mingyu rolls his eyes when his dad smirks, cocky fucker.

Slowly, the two pulls out of you, leaving your pussy gaping from having two dicks inside. The cum drips down wetting the sheets, you looked so messy and fucked up.

Eyes halflidded, body covered with different liquids, cum dripping out of you. An embodiment of a wet dream.

The two were more than proud to say that all of it was courtesy of them.

[writers-potion]

Writing Female Fighters

The Heroine Must. Fight.

Today's female protagonists cannot sit on the side crying and breaking down or whimpering as the battle ensues.

Readers want to see autonomous female fighters who can at least defense themselves with courage and adequate skill.

Not all women are the same, but the heroine should get her butt moving.

Less Muscle, but More Flexibilty

The average woman is shorter than the average man, which makes it more difficult to wield a long sword or slam something down on the opponent's head.

A woman who works out can plausibly be stronger than a male couch potato, but if her male counterpart works out as much as her, the man is going to be much stronger.

On the other hand, the center of gravity in a woman's body is lower than a man's which makes it harder to knock her off her feet.

She is also more flexible, which gives her advantage in grappling fights, making use of complex landscapes, or deflecting blows.

A woman's small size can also be an advantage if her opponent has only ever trained with male opponents. His big hands might not get a good grip on her slender limbs.

In historical fiction, giving your heroine good muscule build can be tricky as exercise was generally considered harmful for women, with some exceptions for horseriding any maybe archery at best.

In such cases, make your heroine an accomplished dancer or an eager horsewoman, or the only girl whose father considered to be son replacement and thus, gave her a boy's education.

Women of lower classes who couldn't afford to be fashionably weak will be plausibly stronger, perhaps even more than an idle gentleman.

More Room for Negotiation, but Prolonged Ruthlessness

In the Suspense part of your fight scene, females are more likely to negotiate and talk more, strategically trying to descalate the situation rather than attacking on a momentary impulse.

Generally, women are less aggressive than men and remain level-headed longer than her male counterparts, opting for non-violent methods first before using force.

Exceptions apply if she is trying to protect her children (or someone who she cares for as a child). Mothers can be tigresses.

A female pre-fight conversation may be: "If you had not done so-and-so and betrayed me with so-and-so, we could have been good friends as I thought we would be." "What do you mean? It was in fact you who brought bad blood between us. I can still hear you laughing with so-and-so, taunting me, purposefully making me look bad -" "But that was so long ago! If you want me to say sorry about something so insignificant, you should have just said so: I'm sorry. There. Satisfied?" "Ha! I can't believe you say that so easily. You still don't get it, do you?" "Who's being petty and unreasonable now?"

A male pre-fight conversation will be shorter: "Who's the coward now?" "You're wrong." "Prove it." "Bastard."

Compared to men, it will take more time for a woman's fight hormones (adrenaline, neurotransmitters and such) to kick in.

She would be slower to engage initially, throwing reluctant punches and thinking, but she'll grow more and more violent and lose all rational thought and compassion, and once she's in full flow, may not stop even when her opponent begs for mercy.

When writing a male-female duo, you can show him going for the first blow while she observes and strategizes first. When he's past his peak and panting, she is flying about left and right. Later when the tension wears off and she becomes wobbly and teary, she can rely on him to have recovered faster and distract other teammates so that they won't see her cry.

Plausible Skills and Backstory

In many cultures and time periods, the general attitude of society towards girls is that they have no place in fist fights or martial arts, unlike how it is encouraged for boys of the same age. So if your heroine has physical prowess that surpasses typical 'fitness' or is hidden, build a backstory of how she's obtained it.

For modern heroines, it can be as simple as signing her up for martial arts classes or yearly membership at the local gym. For historical fiction or girls with strict 'feminine' upbringing, it can be trickier.

It can be related to profession: maybe she was an erotic wrestler, catfighter, or an assasin who thought killing was more honorable than prostitution. They may have dabbles with it for a short time and is now trying to hide their past from their respectable employer or fiance.

It can be family backstory: Perhaps her mother was an accomplished martial artist or she had to fend for younger siblings on the streets from an early age. Maybe she was the only girl in a family of many boys who refused to be the punching bag.

Inexperienced Female Fighters

A woman with no fighting experience or training is likely to resort to one of these on instinct:

Try to talk herself out of the situation, attempting to persuade or negotiate for her life.

Grab something to use as a weapon. This instinct seems to be stronger for women than it is in men.

Use her hands to try and break free, or kick (often wth little success)

Pull hair

Scratch.

In a serious fight, pulling hair and scratching won't be helpful, except when the police come to find her body, they would find the opponent's DNA under her fingernails.

Plausible Weapons and Clothing

All of the above applies to scenes where both parties have no weapons, or has the bare minimum (like one dagger each).

Weapons are equalizers, and if your heroine is pointing a gun at her opponent she will definitely NOT hesitate to be the one to shoot first.

When giving your female character a weapon, choose one she can plausibly use. It would take an unusually brawny woman to wield a great medieval longsword.

For historical fiction, give your heroine something she'll plausibly own. Swords and firearm were a no-go for women, but archery was borderline acceptable.

For clothing starters, you definitely CAN NOT dress her in a tight miniskirt and chainmail bra with long, flowy hair and multiple silver chockers. Unless she's trying to seduce her way into her opponent's bedroom, and he has a chainmail bra fetish.

A practical heroine will have her thighs covered, preferably with leather but at least with fabric, since a lot of blood flows through the thighs and a slash would be critical.

She'll keep her hair tied, tucked under a helmet, braided back, etc. so that it won't impede her vision.

She'll support her breasts with a strong sport bra. In a historical eprioid, she'll either tie her breasts tight with a fabric bandage or support them with some kind of leather corset.

Invent a female version of male fighter clothing of the time you are writing about if it doesn't exist.

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[cassiebones]

The expression on Alice's face is everything to me.

Because she had a mother who loved her and tried to protect her with every little bit of magic she had.

And now she's witnessing a mother who hated her own child since the moment said child was born.

I feel in part that this is Alice realizing that she's not the only one with Mommy Issues™ and that there's a lot more to Agatha Harkness than she was led to believe.

While the argument can be made that Alice was neglected by her mother, as well as abused (forcing a 13yo to get a tattoo???), at least she's become aware just how much her mother cared about her, was scared for her, and tried to protect her.

Evanora Harkness, on the other hand, actively tried to kill her own child. She got together a group of women to kill her daughter. And said "evil" daughter then granted mercy to these killers' children, to her own detriment.

It has to be such a shocking dichotomy for Alice. Especially since, despite being raised by somebody who hated her for the first couple decades of her long life, Agatha still seems to crave her mother's love and approval, which Alice can probably very much relate to.

And then to think of the fact that Agatha was a mother herself. She probably loved Nicholas from the second she found out that she was pregnant. I kind of guess she wanted a girl (another young witch to raise and do it better than the mother who hated her), but was no less thrilled to have her son.

The grief she feels still, after losing him decades - if not well over a century - ago is palpable. She probably told him every single day just how much he meant to her. She probably held him in her arms, marveling at every little detail of his little face, his fingers and toes, his eyes, his smile...and she probably raised him with the love of her life at her side.

And then he was taken from her. Partly by whatever killed him and partly by the love of her life. And it left her broken, grief-stricken, and angry.

Not angry just because Rio took him away (because it was her job), but also because she remembered how own mother trying to kill her and she probably wondered what she had done wrong to evoke such anger in her own mother as she would never try to harm even a single hair on her son's little head.

It was clear in that episode that, as stated above, Agatha still crave's her mother acceptance and affection, even after all she did to her. It's not something you get over very quickly - the burn of your mother's rejection and ire. And, as tough and unflappable as Agatha likes to play it, she is definitely still feeling the pain.

And it's heart-breaking.

[kairoot]

. ✦˚ FIRST STEPS . . . 엔하이픈 !

ׂ ִ SYNOPSIS. enha hyung line’s reaction to when your baby takes their first steps. PAIRING. enha!hyungline x 𝑓．𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 GENRE. fluff REQUESTED. no WARNINGS. pet names, not proofread, lmk if i missed anything

— ( 𝓂𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑛’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 ) . pls leave reblogs, they are much appreciated !!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

HEESEUNG can’t stop himself from smiling when your daughter takes her first steps. it’s one of the moments that makes him so proud to be a father. he was playing with her in your living room, her toys scattered everywhere but they were long forgotten once her dad had walked in the room.

he was sitting on the floor, raising her in the air and bringing her back down, causing her to giggle. he’d set her down so that she was standing in front of him as he held onto her hands. at first he was playing around, but then she let go of them. he was slightly surprised but let her stand on her own, his hands still in front of her just in case she toppled over. the 11 month old wobbled as she tried to balance herself but she was able to stand on her own, nonetheless. after a while of her standing and smiling at her father, she put one foot out, making heeseung’s eyes widen. he tried to contain his excitement, not wanting to startle his baby, but the restraint only lasted about 10 seconds.

she had put the other foot out and was now taking very slow steps towards her dad. heeseung’s cheeks were hurting from him smiling so widely. she stopped when she was only a few inches from him, too tired to keep going so he picked her up.

“look at you, sweetheart! you did it!” he kissed her cheek, going back to lifting her in the air.

JAY was so shocked to see his baby boy becoming so independent at such a young age. he decided to try to use his legs on his own, seeing as he was always carried anywhere you and jay went or he’d crawl. jay’s back was turned when your son was settled in the middle of the kitchen. he’d crawled in behind jay, wanting to be wherever his father was. he was entertained by the toys for a bit until he decided to ditch them and try something new.

he crawled near the island counter, placing his hands on the side of it and pushing himself up. this was no problem for him seeing as he’s done it before. he stood for a few seconds, trying not to fall. jay was still cutting up carrots, humming to himself and not paying attention to his little human behind him. he’d stood for a minute before deciding to take a wobbly step towards his dad. he began babbling quietly, which seemed to catch jay’s attention this time.

“what’re you talking about back there, little man?”

the baby babbled louder, as if he had wanted jay to turn and look at him. he took another step toward jay, wobbling and beginning to get excited at his little adventure. jay finally turned his head, eyes nearly popping out of his head as his son took another step towards him. he quickly dropped the knife, crouching to the baby’s level, holding his hands out.

he seemed to become more motivated, seeing his father encouraging him to keep going. he continued to take those wobbly steps until he reached jay’s arms. he nearly let a tear slip as he picked his son up, peppering kisses all over his face and telling him how good he was.

JAKE was beyond ecstatic when your baby walked for the first time. it was one of the most unexpected things ever. you and jake always had a fear that she wouldn’t be able to learn on her own but one night, she proved the both of you wrong. jake came in from practice, utterly exhausted and wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and cuddle with the girls he loved the most. he opened the door to your home to see you and your daughter playing on the floor. his heart warmed at the sight as he dropped his bag next to the door.

both of your heads snap up at the sound, your daughter instantly giving her dad her signature gummy smile. jake could’ve melted right then.

“hi, baby,” he cooed, beginning to walk towards her but halted when she crawled toward him. he was going to let her come to him but was shocked to see her pick herself up and stand on both feet.

your jaw fell as you both watched her stand on her own but hesitating.

“come on, baby girl, you got it..” jake encouraged her, smiling widely. she looks up at him with puppy-like eyes, starting to move toward him. she steps carefully, unaware of what she was doing.

jake lifted her up before she even got directly in front of him, his excitement overwhelming him. he kissed her cheek and head, feeling like the proud father he was.

“see? i told you you could do it, princess, good job!”

SUNGHOON actually became emotional, which is not what you’re used to seeing. the word ‘proud’ is not enough to describe how he felt in the moment your son took those steps. you were in bed reading a book while sunghoon sat on the floor on the baby’s play mat. he watched his son play by himself, the alphabet blocks amusing him for whatever reason. sunghoon looked down for a moment to check his phone but when he looked up again, the baby was rising to stand on his own. hoon’s eyes widened as he watched carefully.

“babe,” he whispered to you, trying to get your attention. “look.”

you looked up from your book to see your son walking toward sunghoon with his arms out, reaching for him. to your surprise, he got to sunghoon rather quickly, as if he’d already knew how to walk.

you’d never seen sunghoon smile as hard as he did. you threw the book to the side, moving to sit on the play mat with the two.

as you cooed at your baby, you noticed sunghoon’s expression as he looked at your son. tears brimmed his eyes as he continued to smile. you placed a hand on his back, rubbing it gently.

“he actually did it.” he said, wiping his eyes.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

TAGLIST. @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @jungwonderz @enha-stars @dioll @jakesangel @cupidscourt @violetwitchmcu @haohaoshoe @randomgirl02228 @wonsdoll @powerpuffstuts @elysianiki — send an ask to join.

NETWORKS. @k-films

[entitled-fangirl]

The Warden's fears.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: the reader is unable to give Cregan a child, and he reveals why.

Warning: talks of sex, childbirth, death, crying, guilt, etc

A/n: I've never seen anyone do this concept, so I gave it a shot!

Masterlist

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"My gods, what's the matter?"

Y/n sat on the foot on their bed, her eyes puffy and red with tears. She sniffled and wiped her eyes, "I didn't hear you enter, husband."

Cregan let out a light scoff, hating her answer. She only responded coldly when something greatly bothered her. He shrugged off his cloak, throwing it to the side, "That is not an answer."

She wiped her face again and her shaky voice broke, "What am I doing wrong?"

He tilted his head, "Doing wrong? My girl, what are you talking about?"

"Eleven months, Cregan. Eleven months and still no child."

Oh gods. 

Cregan felt his stomach drop to his feet. 

"I… I didn't know you wanted a child so desperately, my love."

She looked up at him with a horrified face, "Why would I not?"

He let out a breath, cursing himself silently. He kneeled in front of her and took her hands in his. "We already have Rickon. He may not have come from your womb, but he is all I need, my love."

Y/n was Cregan's second wife, his first, Arra Norrey, dying in childbirth. Cregan was devastated at her death, but a few years later, the cold Warden's heart was warmed by Y/n, and they married soon after. 

Rickon was a sweet boy, and Y/n was quick to step into a mother role for him when she married the boys's father. Now almost five, he was growing into his father's shoes more and more each day.

Which brought them to now.

"But my duty is to give you children."

He immediately shook his head. "No. No, nothing of the sort. I… I don't need more children."

She tilted her head in confusion, "You're the Warden. You… you need more children. I… I am to give you children, Cregan. And I can't."

"That's not true!" He argued. 

"Then why is my womb still bare despite our devotion to it?"

Cregan's cheek flushed completely. "Do… Do you think I only bed you to fill you with my seed?"

"Well… not entirely."

He forced himself to take a breath. "I lie with you because I wish to. Because I love you."

"Will you still love me if my womb remains dry?"

Pain erupted behind his eyes.

How could she think that? That he'd leave her?

Because of his own doing, this was entirely his fault.

His grip on her hands tightened. "I… I must confess something to you, my love."

Her eyes flitted up to his, still puffy and red, but at least the tears had paused.

"I… I have kept myself from filling you with child."

"W…what?" She managed to whisper out.

"I did not know that you wished this so desperately. I am very sorry, my love. I did not mean this as a secret."

She sniffled but no words came from her lips as she waited for the entirety of his secret to be exposed.

"I have been drinking a tea from the maester on the nights I believe we'll lay together."

Her jaw went slack. 

"I did not know you wanted a child so badly. That you think yourself only worthy to me if we have children."

She pushed him back as she stood, moving to leave. 

But he was quick, standing and grabbing her wrist.

She spun, beginning to hit his chest as sobs wracked from her body, "HOW COULD YOU?" Hit. "YOU'VE LIED TO ME!" Hit. "AND YOU LET ME BELIEVE I WAS THE PROBLEM!" Hit. "How long would you have let me?" Hit. "I hate you!"

He intercepted her hand this time, his grip strong but not one of pain, "Listen to me." His voice was low, "Will you do this?"

She hiccuped lightly as she stared up at him. Finally, she nodded.

"I took the tea because…" He let out a soft sigh. "Arra died in childbirth. I had nightmares of it every night. Her cold body in my hands, switched for the warm one of my son." 

His eyes watered but he continued, "The nightmares stopped when I met you. And when we wed… they returned. Only... they were different. Changed. It was you dying in childbirth."

Her eyes softened. 

He never spoke of his first wife to her. He hated the reminder of what had happened.

"And so… I take the tea. To keep your womb bare because I.." His voice broke, "…I cannot live knowing I could make the same mistake twice."

"Why did you hide it?" She asked softly.

"It was not purposeful. I figured… you did not wish to see your husband in such a state. Or truly believed that I did not wish to bed you. Or have a child with you."

"But you don't."

"I do," he argued. "I want a child. But… I will not put you through the trials of the creation of one. So, we won't." 

His hand trailed down to her stomach, tracing lightly, "To think of your swelling with my child, growing by the day, only to die once on the bed. I can't bear it."

She thought for a while of what to say. She wished she was mad at him. But how could such a burly man proclaim his fears only to have his wife mock him? She couldn't bring herself to.

"That was noble."

His head snapped up to look at her, "Was it?"

She nodded, "You care for me. You put your manhood aside to keep me safe."

He bit the inside of cheek, "I have."

"Thank you."

His eyebrows raised at her proclamation. "You're truly thanking me? When I should be begging your forgiveness?"

Her gaze softened and a hand came up to his cheek, "I do wish you'd have told me. But I cannot fault you for your fears. I'm suppose to ease them."

"How do you plan to do so?"

Her head tilted, "Have you taken the tea lately?"

He nodded.

"Then let us test it."

A fire lit behind his eyes, "Oh, we've tested it quite often, haven't we?"

A mischievous smile moved across her face, "We have."

His lips moved her hers, a mere brush. "Forgive me for making you feel unable to perform your duty," he whispered.

"What is my duty then, my lord?"

He smiled against her lips, "Being mine."

A laugh came from her, "I'll do my best then."

"Aye. You're already quite good at it."

........................................

@misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, 8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest,

[frenchtwistresistance]

Kaye Stevens haters are so boring. Her Weird Girl answer to the Match Game ‘74 Episode 191 question,

The cowboy said, “Well, I sold my horse, but I’m keeping my spurs. I can always use them on my _____,”

is definitely a contender for the top 5 totally logical but highly unlikely Weird Girl answers.

[yojeongin]

It’s my desire to give myself to you | p.js

→childhood friend!jisung x f!reader

genre: smut, romance, 80s au, childhood friends au, lost communication, open ended

synopsis: being the youngest in all friend groups has always proven to be beneficial for jisung but he’s no longer that little boy you met years ago. so why won’t you look at him for what he truly is: a man. he’ll have to prove it to you then.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! obsessive and whiney jisung, oral (f receiving), pussy drunk jisung, vaginal fingering, implied age gap although it’s not significant, public indecency, unprotected sex, bratty jisung, praise kink, bulge kink, begging, creampie, virginity loss (virgin jisung), alcohol consumption, infantilization mentions, overbearing mother.

wc: 11.6k+ || soundtrack || ao3

© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

an: happy end of the year fic, I’d consider this an accomplishment (writing 3 fics in one year lol)

Summers began to be the best thing for Jisung starting at the age of nine. He might have gone to summer camp reluctantly at first, not wanting to join his older brother. He had enough of seeing him all the time at school and home so why did his parents think it was fine to take away his precious summers of pretending to be an only child? It was a rough start, that’s for sure; but being taken under the wing of older kids served to be more fun.

Up until the age of sixteen he lived in bliss waiting for the day summer break to begin and be back where he felt free from the watchful eyes of his parents, only seeing them twice a month for visitations. As for his brother? He had his own life to run and the two barely bumped into each other which was a blessing in disguise for him. His bags were always packed weeks prior to the departing date and when his mother started to ask if he truly wanted to go –for she has been missing him terribly due to their increasing mommy-son dates– Jisung didn’t hesitate on turning her down. Summer camp is all he looked forward to, the only thing he put effort into school for.

Nowadays the only yearly highlight comes in Winter for the holidays in the form of season greetings cards. He’s learnt to conform. “You get what you get and you don’t complain.” Is what he told himself often and that’s all the fight he has left in him the faster the years pass by.

“No mail for me?” Jisung asks with that same pleading whine laced onto his voice upon entering his parent’s home. Leaning down to kiss his mother’s cheek while she shuffles through the mail. She hums, elongating her words while flipping through the envelopes of bills and season greetings. Hoping her hesitance would cement the feeling of disappointment onto her son once more. “Well, it doesn't seem so… Oh! No. Here you go.” His mom utters with a slight smile, cruel as it is. “Took them longer to send this year. Thought the Y/l/n girl was going to fully desert you this year.” She quips balefully. Jisung gives her a quick glance before looking at the picture.

This is the most he sees and hears from you nowadays and it has become unsatisfactory. He wonders where things went wrong more often than he wants to. When he wakes up he thinks about it. When he brushes his teeth and showers he thinks about it. He’s burnt his hand thinking about why your letters minimize little by little every year and it so happens to be that this year he only received a happy birthday letter leaving him in the dark for the following ten months until today. If you can call it that, all the card says is: “May the beauty of the Holidays bless your home with happiness.” Signed off in golden glitter: The Y/l/n Family. No hand written note on your part, no acknowledgement at all. He’s sure your mother only sent it as his address hasn’t been erased from their address book. Otherwise, he’s not sure if his –hopefully– mother-in-law knows or remembers who he is.

“She’s been busy.” Jisung defends in a murmur, turning on his heel to walk upstairs to his room. “She told you that?” His mother yells back sardonically once he turns the corner. He ignores her but the glimmer of her pearly whites blind him through his peripheral view. A reminder that he can try to ignore reality but his mother will always be there to remind him. She wouldn’t understand it. She won’t understand when all she sees is that little nine year old coming back from camp excitedly telling her about the friends he made and the pretty girl he wouldn’t stop talking about.

Or the ten year old that was so ecstatic to come back and ask her for her pretty paper to write a letter to that same pretty girl that finally hugged him and gave him her address to write letters to. She took his too and put it in her ‘important things’ box. Jisung saw you do it.

But Jisung is twenty-two now and lives off of the crumbs he gets to devour whenever he rereads every single letter you’ve sent him. His favorite ones are the birthday letters when you send him pictures of yourself with cakes you’ve baked for him even if he couldn’t eat them. He’s content knowing you cared for him that much. He clings to hope more when this year the cake looked even prettier but not as pretty as you in the multiple pictures sent.

He doesn’t entirely care if you only sent one this year or that you did not reply to his own birthday letter for you. He’s glad that you still cared enough to bake him his cake and let him see how much prettier you’ve gotten. One of those pictures is in his wallet at the moment.

It’s insane, no? To fall so head over heels for someone that has never been his. Jisung has known you for over ten years but nothing has progressed past embraces, friendly hand holding, and constant cheek pinches because you found him awfully cute. He still feels your touches linger despite lastly seeing you in person at sixteen.

Longing is the word he’s looking for. Longing and yearning is all he’s done since that last time he saw you and it becomes worse through the years with little to no communication. He wonders if you’re truly that busy to not spare him a few minutes to write back. Or if you’ve found someone that has prohibited you from contacting him further.

He foolishly expected a letter for his college graduation the way you sent him one for his high school graduation but it never came. He’s kept in contact with his other summer camp friends but they’re no good with information regarding you. Most but one left in the dark about your whereabouts. The last he heard from Jaemin, you had gotten a job and as vague as it is, that’s all he told Jisung.

Useless but also valuable. He envies Jaemin sometimes. He was the only one able to get far more closer to you and he doesn’t fully know how to feel about it. While you spent treating Jisung like a child, like a younger brother, things were always complicated between you and Jaemin. Vague as he is, to be specific.

All he can do now is lay on his bed with a cassette he bought precisely because you recommended it. He doesn’t like it but he does like you so he will endure. Endure like he’s done with anything regarding his yearning for you.

With your deliciously perfumed letters, fountain ink stains all over the pages, and images of you scattered across his bed with the music full blast on his walkman— Jisung revels in the pleasure of your indirect touch. Your fingerprints embedded on the paper and their oils seeping into his own skin the way they did years ago with every single one of your touches. He wished those touches were far more than playful and cuteness aggression. That the times your fingers lingered were because you wanted him as near as he wanted you. But once again, he will conform.

Conform, conform, conform.

In his state, Jisung doesn’t hear his mother’s covert steps when he twirls on the bed with images of you laying on his face. And he surely doesn’t hear her when she cracks the door open to spot his hands lingering on his thighs, memories of the time Hyuck and Chenle snuck alcohol on the grounds and all of you had a ball with it. He remembers your hands vividly on his short-clad thighs, giving them gentle squeezes as you chewed his ear off. He remembers the names Ralph Machio and James Spader spewing from your lips here and there. He wanted to shut them up with his, consumed by jealousy but also wonder how they’d feel against his.

Of course he didn’t, the alcohol made things seem funnier than they were and he wouldn’t overstep. Not when he knew his role in the group was to be cute and be taken care of. That’s how you liked him most, he noticed.

And when he twists again to fight off the temptation of letting his fingers crawl to the hem of his pants, a face he’s known all his life is looking at him directly. Startling more when frustrated. “Park Jisung!” leaves her lips, sending his body into a shocking jolt and his walkman flying across the room. His body crushed the photographs he was admiring, much to her delight.

“Mom!” Jisung whines, holding onto his dangerously fast palpating heart. He huffs and pants, attempting to relax himself before dropping another word. “What?” He aims to say calmly but she’s far from that. Her hands on her hips and a stern look around his bed transmits her disappointment, disgust, and anger.

“I read your grandmother’s letter and it turns out she will be spending the remainder of the month with us after all.” Silent scoff, as if this was the most absurd thing. “Take a run to the mall and get her a gift. I didn’t count on her even contacting us.” Well, that explains her foul mood. It’s made worse when all he musters is a nod but doesn’t make an effort to stand up. God, how she would love to pull him by those raven locks or his ear. Whatever gets the message through.

“Well hurry!” That’s all she can muster.

So Jisung does, collecting everything he can and shoving it into a locked box while his mom turns to walk out the door. Embarrassed is all he feels besides shaken up from the scare he gained.

“Don’t forget your gloves and scarf. Don’t want you to catch another cold.” She mutters while mixing whatever she was cooking. It smelled fine but he knew her food became dangerous when cooking upset. It had a life of its own. He hums as a reply, wanting to leave it at that. “Jisung.” She calls again, calmly this time, turning halfway to look at him.

“Forgetting something?”

He shakes his head, bundled up under all warm clothing.

“Sure?”

He nods and she huffs, walking towards him. She kisses his cheeks and the tip of his nose, cupping his face. That reminds him, manifested in a sigh and a smile that he leans down to kiss his mother’s cheek.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

His bid farewell always leaves him upset. He’s twenty-two, why does she still treat him like he was three? Just yesterday his brother couldn’t stop pinching his cheek after buying him a crepe. Continuing to compare him to a cute little hamster despite Jisung having surpassed him in height.

Three weeks ago when he met with Jaemin to talk about you, the words ‘cute’ and ‘adorable’ would not stop spewing from his lips the way bile does. With the exception that Jaemin welcomed these in comparison. Mark, similarly enough, always clutches his face with restraint from crushing his skull and then engulfs him with a bone crushing hug that leaves him aching for minutes to pass.

He thinks Jeno is the only one with sense that treats him his age, yet he’s caught him other times babying him at the arcade. Especially when a stranger playing against Jisung wants to get quippy and there he becomes that eleven year old that Jeno and Hyuck had to defend from some idiots that had just watched Star Wars and felt inclined to the dark side.

Jisung decided to take the car, it was getting colder and he felt the remnants of snowflakes begin to fall even if they could only be seen under a microscope but he was sure of it. He contemplated walking in hopes of ailing himself to disturb his mother’s sanity but proved futile knowing she’d hover over him 24/7 until betterment. Therefore, his sanity would be the one disturbed.

For such a busy season, the streets looked empty and the mall itself wasn’t entirely full besides the movie theatre parking lot. Their billboard lights blinding him the longer he stares to see which movie seemed fun. He should at least get some enjoyment out of this. He can decide later. RIght now he has to pick up something he thinks a geriatric angry woman would like.

Let’s see… She likes disgustingly small yappy dogs like chihuahuas— as angry as her. She likes cats as sick as her… some yarn and new patterns should be a good gift. She doesn’t like those.

Decidedly, Jisung will take a stroll towards the end of the mall. Taking his sweet time to enjoy the scenery of the water fountain. He truly does like the mosaic. The flamingo pink tiles crawl up into a gradient of green tiles that surround the mouth where water spurts out. In better times, it shines under the sun. Right now, not so much.

He doesn’t leave before throwing in five pennies. Five for his birthday and five for safe measure that his wishes are secured. He always wishes for the same two things. Three to hear from you and two to beat Jeno’s centipede high score.

Jisung smiles and nods to himself, walking past the fountain, some water spraying on him. He doesn’t mind, he’ll take it as a sign that one of the two is to be granted soon.

Halfway through a cinnamon sugar pretzel after nearly choking from its dryness, Jisung decides to touch his heart and not gift his grandmother something she doesn’t like despite her being such a vile woman. Instead he should give her something that she won’t ever be able to lift and only admire which leads him to Sur la Table on the east wing of the mall. He grumbles and huffs annoyedly at the walk but he knows it’ll be worth it. Hell, maybe he’ll steal it for himself when she goes senile.

The only thing that he appreciates about this wing is the warm yellow lights from French and Italian wannabe restaurants that aim to attract hungry consumers and cooks. He enjoys the set up at Sur la Table, mainly because he gets to play with their faux kitchen setups and the shock on people’s faces when they overpay for these cookware items. Fooled into consumption from their fabricated experience.

He plays with some of the display pots and pans, twisting knobs and reading tags to see how pretentious he’ll feel after learning about Swedish enamel. He doesn’t know how much that matters —if it's a cash grab— but it sounds fancy. Before him, he prepares some plates. A nice hearty bowl of Caldo de Gallego. Jisung doesn’t know nor understands what it is but he remembers hearing it while flipping through the channels when his father got cable. A monumental moment for him.

“No dessert?”

And just like when his mother scared him shitless back in the privacy of his own room. A familiar voice snapped him out of his public exposition daze.

He goes through the same motions he went through back home. Clutching his harshly palpitating heart, panting and huffing to regain his composure, and feeling embarrassment. If he went through this once more today, he’ll definitely faint for good.

It’s far more embarrassing this time around. He took advantage that the store was nearly empty and no one came to this side of the store but he was proven wrong. Worse yet, the person that scared him was waiting for an answer.

Jisung still feels and hears his heart blaring in his ears but he tries to act cool. Only to fail when his knees buck once he registers the face that’s been accompanying him for the past ten months in his wallet. Albeit something was different. The length and color of your hair that’s for sure.

“Don’t be a stranger, come on.” Your voice is as sweet as he recalls.

Fuck, how he missed it…

Your arms extend to him, pleading for his embrace. Jisung doesn’t hesitate to give you what you want— as always. Swaddling you with his long limbs and making sure you can’t let go until he is done savoring this moment. He’s truly craved this for as long as he can remember.

A soft giggle works to ease his grip, letting you go with a nervous chuckle of his own. “Sorry.” He speaks, shyly covering his mouth with a sleeve covered hand. The apology not only yours to receive but himself as well for reacting like the little boy he was when you met; for the miniscule regression. He takes in your light head shake but tender smile. It’s a different scene from when he last saw you. There’s an obvious distance that he does not like.

“How have you been? You’ve grown so much!” Instinctively, your hands reach for his face, cradling it while attempting to restrain yourself from pinching his cheeks. You’ve already overstepped by touching him. Instead you give him an awkward giggle and the following words. “What happened to my little Jisungie? You’re even taller than last time.” Jisung can sense your desire to grab him and handle him like you used to but for some reason you’re holding back.

‘Please, please don’t deny me this. Touch me, hug me, pinch me… Just please touch me…’ Jisung wants to blurt out. He’s been starving for years and he finally has you before him, so why won’t you feed him? Don’t be so gluttonous, please…

Jisung won’t voice any of it, he opts to nod with that same gummy smile that you love. “Growth spurt, stuff like that.” He attempts to sound nonchalant but he’s so giddy that he can’t contain himself. You read him like a book.

“So, uh… What are you doing here? I never thought I’d see you in my town.” He questions, scratching his head. You’ve always been a good eight hours away from him, meeting him halfway for camp. Six if you count Chenle’s birthday party in ‘81 in which his parents paid for everyone’s transportation.

Your hesitance doesn’t go unnoticed by him but he wont prod. He’s content with having you near, he thinks so. He’ll be sure to start throwing quarters into the fountain for granting him this wish at least.

“Work actually,” You hum, body swaying while you nod. “Oh, right! Jaemin mentioned you got a job, congrats!” He celebrated with genuine happiness but the inkling of curiosity never left him.

‘Please talk to me. Please say more, I crave your voice. Please, I’m too malnourished, can’t you see?

“Did he?”

“That was about it. You know how vague he can be.”

You hum and nod again. This awkward cycle frustrating and hurting him.

Jisung has not spent the past six years missing you for this encounter to be short lived. He’s aware six years was a long time ago and he’s definitely lost contact with other friends but they’ve never mattered the way you do and there’s no way he’s going to waste this opportunity.

“Hey, why don’t we catch up, yeah?” He clutches his arm, swinging a bit and lips puckering before pressing them tightly amongst each other. Your immediate reluctance is easily spotted and it only makes him ache more. He’s not sure what has elicited this behavior but whatever it is, he’ll kick himself over it when you’re not around.

“I don’t know, Ji… I have a report to work on.” You avoid his gaze, knowing that the second you see his pleading eyes you’ll cave in. He knows that too and he knows that if he makes his voice a tad bit squeaky, you’ll begin to crack. You always do.

“Y/n-ie, please…” He tilts his head, crouching to meet your gaze. His big round eyes glistening either from the lights, his own natural charm, or the tears that will spill if you pay him no mind. He doesn’t mean to pout but when his lower lip involuntarily juts out you let out a defeated noise through your teeth followed by grabbing his cheeks and stroking them softly, uttering a “Fine, fine!” to satiate his nerves and your own craving of touching his face like you once did.

His grandma can wait, it’s not like she’ll even use the cookware set any time soon.

“What were you even doing back there?” You break the silence, both walking towards the exit. Without you looking, he tosses a quarter out of gratitude into the fountain when passing by. He swears he can see the tiles gleam and let out satisfied clinks. They’re just as thankful.

With a hand to the back of his neck, he laughs softly. Head turning to you with excuses in mind yet he opts to tell the truth. “I like to pretend it’s my own kitchen whenever I go in there.” He laughs embarrassedly to which he is received with a silent ‘cute’ and observing look.

He’s glad he distracted you but it also feels like a backhanded compliment. Adorable. RIght, that’s what you still think of him.

“By the way. Do you mind grabbing a drink instead? Not a huge fan of coffee… Unless you want to of course.” Jisung suggests, putting his gloves on once both reach outside. He notices your lack of scarf and undoes his while you contemplate an answer. Halting your train of thought when he wraps it around you which ends up making you blurt out a “Sounds good!” in return.

It’s no surprise that the car ride was full of silence but at least the radio muffled your thoughts and hopefully his own if he had any regarding the atmosphere. There was a part of him that grew resentful and hurt with the lack of conversation but the greater part was ecstatic to have you so near. This is what he’s dreamt and wished for for years and he finally has it. He does not plan on wasting any millisecond of both your times.

Jisung wasn’t an avid drinker and did not know much about alcohol besides what his friends have shown him. His parents didn’t drink and his grandmother would shove a can of miller high life onto his hand if he ever spoke more than his usual five sentences. The way parents shove a bottle into a crying baby’s mouth to put it to rest. Why did he request a drink instead, though? Simply to gain some courage. Lord knows he’ll need it if things keep going the way they’ve been.

The place he took you to wasn’t that different from the ones you’ve been to during your college days. With ugly stained yellow walls, dart boards and old decorations hanging on them. Wooden columns covered in thick layers of resin as were the counters and tables. Grumpy beer-bellied bar tenders arguing over the football game playing on screen right now with already drunk customers. Yeah, not ideal for a first date but the only bar he knew. The only piece worth being valuable a signed poster of James Hunt.

What the hell was James Hunt doing in this fuck ass town?

He let you go in first upon finding a booth hidden in the back of the bar. Far more darker and cozier at this end. Perhaps due to the lack of distance he kept between you two when he himself slid in, his arm instinctively resting on the backrest of the booth around your head. The need to simply wrap it around your shoulders killing him.

“Pretty cold out there, right?” Jisung began, removing his gloves and jacket, shoving ghe former in the pockets. You didn’t turn to him, responding with a hum as you remove the scarf. He frowns at this, slumping against the backrest, watching you look through the standee with all drink names.

“What are you ordering, Jisung?” He hadn’t thought about it, more immersed in hearing your voice. Either Way he didn’t know a single brand of alcohol, ‘Lite’ the only word in relevance to alcohol that he knew. “You choose, I’m fine with whatever.” He diverts, leaning closer to you to read the alcohol options.

Though, as if you could read minds, you turn to look at him. A soft smile with narrowed eyes focusing on him. “Are you sure you want to drink? We can get something else, I don’t mind.” You suggest, expression relaxing now seeing how easily he reacted.

“Yes! I mean no! No, I would really like a drink, unless you want something else.” Jisung tumbled through his words. The bashful look on his face raises your lack of restraint in grabbing and handling him the way you’ve done so many years ago. Oh how truly adorable he remains. Although, he’s gotten quite handsome. Too handsome for his own good.

“Okay,” You nod, fingers ghosting over his cheek to reassure him– never touching, just yet.

Raising your hand to call a bartender over, one of the two begrudgingly stroll to your table. Tossing a worn out and smelly towel over his shoulder, he gives both of you a look as if to hurry up and order. With reluctance and indignance, you scoff. “Two blackberry smashes. Whiskey in both.”

“We ain’t got that stuff here.” His mannerisms were comical and absurd. As if he was angry that a request was made but also so nonchalant, so careless for your presence. More interested in going back to his game.

“Fine, two pints of your house beers, tap and two shots of your cheapest tequila. ” Jisung thinks your voice now matches the arrogance and annoyance of the bartender. He sort of likes it, it reminds him of the times you yourself had defended him against snobs at camp.

The balding bartender grunts as a response, sounding like an okay before leaving. “Swear, it’s like he's being held at gunpoint to work here, Jesus.” You shake your head, attitude dropping when you notice his reddened cheeks. Curse him and his presentable fondness. “Oh I’m sorry, Ji. Was I being mean?” Your body turns to him, hand clutching his out of habit. Jisung smiles at the contact, looking at it briefly before looking at you. “No, you were perfect.” He utters, reveling in your touch.

You smile at him, embarrassed. Something that he takes with pride. “You never told me what you were cooking up in that kitchen, you know.” You aim to divert the focus. He chuckles at it, “Caldo de Callo. I heard it on TV, I think the host said it was a Spanish dish. Never had Spanish food.” He sounded so proud yet clueless at the same time. Though, you tilt your head, lips parting and closing the further your eyebrows furrow. He hears you hum and finally ask, “Do you mean Caldo Gallego?”

Jisung can see you stifle a laugh when his face begins to feel insanely hot, scorching even. Embarrassment written all over his face that he has to bury them in his sleeve-covered hands, groaning into them about how stupid he sounded. If only he knew that what he originally said translated to ‘callous soup’.

Endearing is the word you’d call it though. Endearing he is with his crescent shaped eyes and shamed pout. Endearing are the whines and groans he lets out when you can’t seize your giggles. He thinks about telling you to stop but doesn’t, your noises far more prettier and enjoyable even if at the expense of his misery.

“It’s okay, Jisungie.” You elongate his name, “It sounds similar, don’t fret too much!” You giggle, petting his hair as one does a child trying to comfort them. He enjoys your touch but doesn’t enjoy the slight patronizing tone to your voice. He’s not sure if he can call it patronizing because he’s aware there’s no malice intent behind your words but it did sound condescending in the way those speak to their juniors and he was tired of you treating him like one the longer the night progressed.

Jisung huffs, sighing when his head touches the table. He turns to look at you momentarily, distracted when your drinks arrive. He hears a few forced thank you’s and sarcastic my pleasures. Your feud with the bartender is amusing but not for this time. Right now he wants to focus on this sentiment brewing in his chest.

He gives you one last glance before reaching for the shot glasses. “To seeing each other again?” Such a simple question that made you hum pensively. You don’t deny it, clinkling your glasses together before dowing the burning liquor. With the taste of battery acid buring your throat, Jisung on the other hand clutches his throat, spitting it out onto a bundle of napkins.

You find him so agonizingly cute that your hands begin to ache to touch him and squeeze the life out of him. How adorable can someone be?! “Oh Jisungie… Tequila isn’t for everyone.” You tut, shaking your head. “Perhaps I should order you some apple juice to soothe that, yeah?”

Your giggle makes his ears ring, that same gnawing feeling that you're mocking him consuming him. He knows you’re not doing it on purpose. That you truly care for his wellbeing but is he truly that easy to perceive as naive and childish that you won’t see him as more? Sure, he didn’t like the tequila but so what? It was their cheapest one. If it had been a bit more expensive, then he’s sure he would have drank it as easy as you. He’s not a kid, why won’t you see that?

Jisung doesn’t voice it though, sighing while redirecting the conversation. “Were you doing some last minute shopping back at the mall?” He questions, obvious discontent and melancholy in his voice. You let it be, nodding as a response before shaking your head when you register the question. Too enthralled with how pretty he looks like this. Face flushed from the alcohol and embarrassment. So cute, so adorable, so perfect. Your Jisungie.

“No, no, actually I went with intentions to watch a movie but the cinema won’t play the movie I wanted to watch so I was on my way out when I saw you through the window doing your little thing.” Your giggle sends him into orbit. He feels lightheaded. Your words weren’t laced with judgment but fondness, he’s thankful for it this time.

“What movie?” Jisung attempts to act as if you didn’t affect him.

“Uh…” Your hesitance piques his interest. “Sex, Lies, and Videotape.” Well it seems that it’s you who is embarrassed now. He takes it, smiling to himself. “Gee, I wonder why they wouldn’t screen this at a regular movie theater.” He giggles, wiping the corner of his mouth when he feels some leftover alcohol residing there.

“Okay now, I had just gotten out of a meeting. My brain was not fully cooperating.” He giggles some more, his teeth now clutching his sleeve. “Honestly, why would a movie like that interest you?” You smile at him, the rim of your beer glass pressing against your lips. “James Spader.”

Jisung rolls his eyes, a scoff leaving his lips while he himself takes a sip of his beer. It’s unrefined and messy. The way the lager alcohol slips down the corner of his mouth and slicks his lips when he places it down. You watch it all through the window of your own, taking slow sips to admire his silent tantrum. He’s never been fond of James Spader. Or any other man you’ve mentioned.

“He’s not all that, you know.” Jisung mutters with a pout, leaning against the backrest. You don’t laugh like you intended. You simply acknowledge him through the handkerchief you pull out of your pocket to softly wipe the residue of beer before it becomes sticky on his skin. He can taste the flavor of your black cherry lip gloss when you swipe it over his lips.

Such an intimate moment prompts him to take a grasp of your free hand, playing with your fingers like he’s done before. “Oh please. He’s the perfect blend of sensible and… manly.” Jisung can only guess you’re thinking of James Spader with the way you bite your lower lip and narrow your eyes. A lustful sigh escapes your nostrils which serves as confirmation to his inquiry.

Seemed like a bunch of bullshit, if you were to ask Jisung what he thought. If you wanted those qualities then why didn’t you realize how perfect Jisung was? Maybe he’s being a little self absorbed or malleable to your desires but so what? He’ll do anything to make you look at him.

Furrowing his eyebrows, dropping your hand and pointing at his chest, Jisung spoke. “I’m sensible and manly!” It sounded more whiny than he expected which would prove to throw off whatever result he wished for. Of course it would, your laugh seems to provide an answer to such.

“I don’t know about the latter…” Your hum upsets him more.

“I am!”

“I don’t know. Just look at how cute you look pouting like that…”

Jisung huffs, upset at your continuous dismissiveness. Must you always remind him of his inferiority? What must he do if you won’t see that he’s a grown man now?

“I am, I’ll prove it to you.” His tone must have sounded significantly bratty that you receive it with patronization. Sarcastically telling him to prove it then if he was so manly.

So he did. He did in the way his large hands cradled your face, warming up your cheeks although that might be from the immediate heat his actions spurred. He proves it through his stealthy moves, bringing his face closer to yours in which he allows his lips to ghost over yours for milliseconds before finally connecting them.

Shocked is what you would describe this feeling clinging onto your chest. Never in a million years would you have thought about kissing Jisung. Sure, you’ve kissed his cheeks and forehead in the past, but that’s what friends do with someone they find adorable and innately drawn to. Jisung has always been hard to avoid, even if you wanted to, one look in those glistening round eyes and you’d submit to his every wish. Everyone does.

His lips moved with inexperience, soft and slow but uncoordinated with no idea where to go from there. His internal debates made obvious when he would part his lips for a second before going back to what seemed like peppered pecks. The way dolphins kiss. You wonder if this is his first kiss or how he kisses overall. If so, you’re only sorry that it’s so miserable.

Jisung eventually determines that he should stop. Either from shame at how uneventful it was or, well, simply because it was uneventful. Rather you two stare at each other for what felt like ages. His confidence is dying down along with your shock. By now both reverting back to your usual personas which meant that he shyly tried to look around without breaking eye contact and you, sternly looking at him without blinking much in order to gain answers.

He sighs knowing this was a lost cause. Rubbing the back of his neck, his body shifts to face you more than before. “Why haven’t you sent me any letters? Why are you ignoring me, Y/n?...” Jisung hates how easy it is for him to transmit his emotions onto his voice. While he hates to sound whiny, he would prefer that over the hurt that enveloped every single syllable he’s spewed out. What he hates more is that he’s not able to shut his mouth. “You have my home number, you have my address. Why haven’t you replied to my letters?”

“Jisung…”

“No! Please tell me.” God, how he hates how dismissive you can be, “I’ve been waiting for you for years. Please give me something, anything.”

Jisung’s face contorts the longer he begs, his lips reddening and puffing more than normal. His cheeks are ravished by that harsh crimson that warms them, borderline scorching. His voice, now a mixture of hurt but whiney that makes you shift at how uncomfortable you are that it spurred something in your chest, now traveling down to your abdomen. You really want to slap yourself for this.

Your Jisungie. Your sweet Jisungie, you idiot!

“I’m sorry, Ji. I was busy with my discretion and didn’t have time for anything. Then I graduated and it was a bloodbath to even get a job right out of college. I mean, I almost threw myself to the sharks and contemplated going to a convent. Can you imagine? All my hard work wasted. Then this year…”

Almost like a child that should have not spoken, Jisung raises an eyebrow when you reach for your beer glass, using it as a shield to make you stop talking. He grew increasingly irritated by your silence. “This year what, Y/n?!”

He’s never spoken to you like this which raises concerns with how you don’t mind it. In fact, you surprisingly invite it, although in minimal quantities. Seeing as there was no way out of it, you sigh, shoulders slumping. “Then this year I saw your mom at the film store around Easter. We were both picking up pictures and we talked for a bit until I asked about you and she said that you had a girlfriend. That I should probably be conscious that not all girls are comfortable with their boyfriend being so close to other girls. That she wouldn’t take kindly to seeing me send you letters so often, let alone pictures…”

Jisung has never been angry at his mother. Sure, irritated and hurt. But never angry, which seems to be a feeling he never thought he’d harbor for the woman that has given him life and all the love a child deserves. He knew his mom wasn’t too keen on his infatuation on you, he’s not sure if it’s for the difference in age or weary of someone she hasn’t fully met besides a few encounters on drop-off and pick-up day at camp.

He always imagined that she would come around once she truly met you, so why was she trying to sabotage him on something he’s been begging every single deity for?!

“So, if you have a girlfriend, why the hell did you just do that, Jisung?” The disgust and confusion in your voice made him feel far more awful than he already was. Appalled would probably be a greater feeling, though. He’s made sure to let you know that with the harsh ‘what?!’ that spews out of his lips like a hymn.

“What the fuck? I’ve never had a girlfriend. Jesus fucking Christ, why would she say that?” He questions the latter to himself, unaware that he’s confessed his inexperience to you (as if it wasn’t noticeable); shifting his attention to you shortly after. “Why would you believe her in the first place? I’ve never looked at anyone but you! Why won’t you see that?”

It’s not his grasp on your shoulders that startles you but rather the sincerity in his confession. Never in a million years did you think you’d be hearing these words from Jisung. The fuzziness in your chest adds to that shock which confuses you and at the same time disgusts you.

Jisung is far more perceptive than you had thought, “Please… It’s been you since the summer we met…” He goes back to pleading, his grasp softening. Kneading your arms as to beg for contact on your end. You hate how much this is luring you into whatever he wants. You’ve never been able to say no to him, yet again these found feelings are clashing with those you’ve fostered since you met him.

It’s vile and conflicting to see him in such a sweet light. As your junior who’d you do anything for, to… this incessant needy and lovestruck man that keeps begging for an ounce of affection in any form possible. If it was for Jisung he’d be on his knees kissing the sole of your shoe as long as you get to tell him you love him the way he loves you.

You sigh, contemplating on what to do or what to feel. “I don’t know, Jisung.” You huff conflicted. You’ve always been like a little br–” His hand covers your mouth before you can even finish your sentence. His eyes tremble and you realize that he’s much closer than he had been. “Don’t finish that. Please don’t ever say that again…” He begs and begs. Either it be his words, the way his eyes look at you, or his body language.

“I’m twenty-two, I’m taller than my own older brother or any of the friends we made in camp. I can drink and smoke if I want. I’m a man now, Y/n. Not that scrawny squeaky voiced kid you met long ago. I don’t need you to see me like that. So please… erase that from your brain and see me as I am now.”

You don’t know if you hate him or yourself at the moment. You’ve never been one to reject change, in fact you welcome it but it’s different when it comes to the image of people you like. Fuck it, you’re even upset at how deep you’re thinking about this when within a few minutes you might think this is stupid and unserious.

“If age is the problem, don’t let it get to you. We don’t even have a disgusting gap. For goodness sake, we were in the same group classifications every year at camp and Mark had already hit the group limit. That should be enough to get you out of whatever hellhole you’re digging yourself into.”

See? Eventually things could turn so unserious and with the sound of his voice, rather bratty and accusatory. “Do you not like me, is that it? Do you not find me desirable?” He questions, head nodding to incentivize an answer from you. He almost makes it seem natural and you wonder how many times he’s done this before. Push people’s buttons until he gets an answer. You suppose he truly has grown.

The Jisung you last knew would never whine for something like this. All he had to do was say please with a pout and he’d get what he wanted. Far more innocent and civilized. This was crude, erotic, and mocking. You expect him to give you a cheshire smile when he gets what he wants in comparison to his gummy one full of appreciation.

Yes, he’s no longer a boy. He’s now a sweetly cunning man.

“It’s not that.” You blurt out, cursing yourself at the admittance that he has more of a chance than either of you could’ve thought. Expectedly, that cheshire smile presents itself slowly. Sultrily, he speaks. “Then what is it?” He whispers, lips to your ear as his hands create a path down your upper body.

The words hang heavy on your tongue, distracted by his touch. Finding his large hands more pleasurable than you could’ve thought. “I actually don’t know…” You confess sincerely, eyelids fluttering when they land on your knee, fingers padding over the clothed flesh. Contemplating on whether to stay where they are at or slide up.

Ecstatic by your bodily response, he smiles sweetly. Whispering in your ear, “Let me prove it to you… Let me erase that image of me you have, please…” He begs, lips trailing to your cheek, a blazing trail branding your skin. When they reached your lips, you couldn’t deny him the wonders of being kissed in return.

You both sigh into the kiss the second they perfectly slot into each other. It’s slick and wet, albeit, much more pleasurable than his first one. This one you’re able to enjoy the delicacy of those plump red lips that envelope yours and leave a delicious sting that makes you crave for more.

Your hands paw at his sweater, drawing him closer to feel his warmth. He takes this opportunity to let his hands roam up your thighs, massaging the insides until he decides that he won’t wait and lets his hand crawl to the hem of your skirt. His hands –scorching– against your skin when he manages to pull down your tights. Bunching them around your knees and covering your legs with his jacket.

He smiles into the kiss when he feels you react to his feather touches. Taunting the idea of touching you further. He’s not too cruel though, not when this is what he’s wanted for so long. Therefore, he decides to reward both of you by letting his fingers go under your panties, the cotton feeling like heaven against his knuckles. He revels in the feeling of your wetness clinging to the fabric. Cooling against his skin while he lets his fingers waltz up and down your folds. Contemplating what their next move will be, unpreoccupied since you seem to enjoy whatever he is currently giving you. He can see it with the way your eyelids flutter and the kiss grows hungrier, needier. This is all he truly wanted.

Jisung decides to not taunt you any longer. He’s never wanted to upset you. Allowing his fingers to softly part your lips, twisting his ring clad middle finger and inserting the long digit into you. They felt so cold within your walls, forcing a gasp to leave your lips. He took that opportunity to muffle it with his tongue the second it intruded the cavity of your mouth.

The muscle, surprisingly strong as it dances along with yours, savoring the delicacy of your taste. This is overshadowed by the spasm of your legs the slower he pumped his finger into you. Molding your walls to the ribs of his nimble and spindly digits. Your pleasure is exerted through sighs and hungry kisses which he consumes all you give him. He thinks this is enough incentive to insert a second finger. This time his ring finger, quickly adapting it to the movement of the other one. It’s nice to feel the contrast between his warm acclimated finger to the cold shorter one.

His fingers move slowly, picking up the pace when he decrees that you deserve more pleasure than he currently grants you. He’s driven by the way you cling to him, hands going under his sweater and clutch his sides, fingernails softly taking the warm flesh. Jisung finds it delicious how you cling to him the way your walls grip to his fingers. Sucking him in and keeping them in place whenever he thinks of even taking them out without making you come first.

Neither speak but the silent mewls that leave your lips is enough to let him know he’s doing something good. He’s proven right when you softly nip at his swollen lips, sucking on the lower one, resulting in him releasing a shaking breath.

You will be the death of him.

Jisung found that he loved how you look when you writhe in pleasure in his arms. He thinks you look otherworldly with the way your lips part to release those sweet chants he has recorded in his brain. Enticing when your tongue sticks out to cling to his and his lips just to know he’s still there making you feel better than you’ve felt in a while. He knows you're ready when you gnaw at his lips and jaw, holding to the back of his neck as your lips trail as hungrily as his, prior. Leaving a trail of rouge that he wishes to seep into his skin like a tattoo.

When he feels your teeth cling to his jugular, he can’t help but let out a guttural moan, thankful at how secluded this booth was. His fingers reward that feeling by moving faster, his thumb rubbing delicate yet quick circles on your clit. At some point he felt scared that your cunt would swallow his rings with every clench around his fingers. You were so close and all he felt was pride and gratification that it was him that was making you feel this way.

Fuck, he could explode in his pants right now.

“Jisungie…I can’t hold back anymore.” You pant, leaving open mouthed kisses along his Adam's apple. Tongue roaming and savoring the saltiness of his skin taut on his clavicles.

He’s no one to make you suffer and not get what you want. Instinctively, his fingers pick up the pace, pushing them as far as he can. Curling them and covering your mouth when the volume of your prayers increase. Swallowing them whole when he connects his mouth with yours, luxuriating in the sybaritism of your orgasm through your kiss and spasming legs.

It takes you a minute to calm down, panting softly. Jisung looks down at you with a pleased smile, his fingers still in you, pruning by the second but he doesn’t mind. He sighs constantly, kissing you softly this time. It’s sweet and tender, similar to the first one he gave you with the difference that your cooperation makes it run smoothly.

When he parts, his fingers slowly ease out, causing you to shudder. You feel so empty and cold at the lack of his touch. Rewared only by the mere fact that he prods your lips with his ring finger, slowly entering your mouth. You savor yourself on him, tongue running along the underside, lingering on his finger pad.

No one has ever done this for you. Look at and treat you like you’re their whole world despite the lewd scenery.

His finger slips far more slick from your lips than it had entered your mouth. He takes them up to his own, running them along like a brush on the most pristine parchment. Letting its ink sink into the grooves and cement itself for eternity.

Biting your lower lip, you examine the way he takes both fingers into his mouth. Pupils blown out once he’s fully swallowing the taste of you in all forms. He knew you were perfect but this is beyond that. This is an exquisiteness he’s never savored before. He will never be satisfied again.

Jisung leans down making you think he was to kiss you again. The reality was that your essence was more inebriating than the shot of tequila and the pint of beer sitting on the table before him that he had to have a taste of the fruit directly.

In swift motions, he moves his jacket from your legs, shoving your skirt up and letting it fall over his head. Despite the awkward angle, Jisung managed to swipe the tip of his tongue against your slick cunt. The muscle parting your lips and forcing a gasp out of you.

It’s a mixture of shock and pleasure. He was shameless and that made it so hot and intoxicating, yet fear was consuming you. Forcing you to take a grasp at the back of his neck and pull him up with as much delicate force as you could muster. Like a starving kitten, parted from its mother’s tit, Jisung fetches your lips.

He looks so pretty and so stupid. So drunk and starved for you. The feeling so obvious in his hazy eyes and wet lips from your come that he has yet to lick or press against your own. You give him the latter, kissing him to satiate his need for just a bit. Biting his lower lip to calm him down.

“Don’t be so greedy, Jisung.” You scold against his lips, removing your mangled and wet tights and shoving them into your pocket. He cries like a kicked puppy but nods, getting out of the booth and helping you out knowing you’ll look like a newborn deer after his filthy handling.

Neither of you pay any mind to the cashier that takes in the payment. Weary eyes scanning you both and scoffing without questions. It’s not his first rodeo.

Drunk in a daze, Jisung doesn’t question when you give him directions. He expected it to be a hotel, one you should be staying at for work. It dawns upon him that it’s your apartment when he sees you punch in the entry code.

You’ve been so close all this time and he doesn’t knows how to take it. It’s evident in the look he gives you when you both enter the apartment and he looks around. His lips parting to question it but being shushed by your lips and hands tugging at the hem of his sweater to pull it off his body. Leaving him bare and goosebump filled before you.

“Not now…” you whisper against his chest, kissing his torso and pecks, nipping his nipple. You can talk about reality once you’re finished.

Jisung sighs but welcomes the feel of your lips and touch all over him. His own fingers unbutton your coat and cardigan, pushing them off simultaneously to make his fingers crawl to your back and unclasping your bra.

He withers and hunches over when your hands push down his pants, grasping his hard and leaking cock through his briefs. The wet spot ironically forming a heart. His Lip part, erotically to let out breathy gasps and pants. For this, you kiss him like he once did. Invading his mouth with your own tongue, holding his face in your hands, making sure he makes no effort in separating until both you feel the air escaping your bodies.

In the process, both of you manage a waltz in ridding of the remaining clothes. Kicking off any shoes and underwear, leaving each other bare in the middle of your living room. If he was given the time to admire it more, he’d tell you that it was truly what he expected of you— positively.

Instead he’s eating you alive, carnivorously gnawing at your lips in hopes to draw blood. An act that you embrace and let him do as he pleases. Simply because you’ll return the favor with as much fervor that you both will let the crimson paint itself on your lips the way your rogue has marked his skin.

When air finally did what you expected it to do, Jisung connects his forehead against yours. Both panting and drawing your bodies flush against each others. He grins seeing the little number he did against your lips, the cracks of them full like a dried up river during dry seasons. If only he knew he looked the same.

“Eat me… take your time in consuming me…” you implore, the words playing over and over in his brain as he pushes you down on the couch. Dropping to his knees without a care of what your neighbor on the bottom floor will say or if his palid knees will bruise instantly. For you, he’ll writhe in pain.

Jisung wastes no time, he separates your legs and throws them over his shoulders. His head delves in between the pretty image of your cunt and clings his lips around it fully. His lips suctioning while his tongue teases your entrance. His grasp on your inner thighs is a bit harsh but pleasurable enough that you’ll enjoy seeing the marks he’ll leave on them tomorrow.

He’s fueled more by your sweet words and the tugs at his raven hair by your fingers that curl on the locks. It feels much better when your nails scratch his scalp and for that he sucks on your clit. Incentive or reward, they’re interchangeable.

“Ah!… take your time…” you moan, head thrown back and giving him a pretty image of the expanse of your neck and the way your nipples perk. You look so heavenly that he knows it’s blasphemous. The way the overhead light shines behind your head, creating a glowing halo and he’s glad that it’s Sunday for this is his mass and holy communion. His mother should not dislike you after this.

Jisung lets his tongue roam around your cunt, savoring every crevice, picking up every single drop that spills from you. Be it that no one has ever paid such devotion to your mound, your legs begin to shake around his head. Your hands cling to his hair and pull him closer and closer to the point his nose manages to create a pleasurable pressure against your clit.

This is no problem for him. He lavishes himself in your taste and smell, moaning against you to create further sensitivity which is appreciated and you reward him by coming almost immediately when he lays his tongue flat on you to lick down and enter deep into you.

A slew of moans leave your lips but his name is the one you scream out. “Jisung, Jisung, Jisung.” Oh how well has conforming paid him off. For this he leans back on his feet, hands rubbing his thighs and teasing his own sensitive cock as he watches you writhe on the soiled couch. A lake of your come seeping into the faux leather, shimmering as its reflection on his lips, nose, and chin. How beautiful you both look.

Animalistically and greedily so, Jisung dives back in. This time pulling your body further down the couch. Leaving you limp and folded while he raises your hips and clings to them. He’s more messy and filthy about it this time around. He allows his lips to suck harshly and lick as consolation just to softly bite your clit and make you cry out masochistically.

Hypersensitivity, a force that travels in the form of your loud moans and cries. That’s what fuels him and it feels so sadistic but he indulges himself at least this once. He’s hopeful it won’t be the only time but for now he will enjoy it as it is.

He can hear you begging to please let you finish. That you don’t have it in you to last long anymore but he doesn’t relent just yet. Not when his hips buck forward and shudder with every grace of his cock against the leather of your couch. It’s so cold and harsh that it hurts but it also feels so good that he can’t help but be excited at how your soft and warm walls will soothe his dick like ointment to a wound.

That seems more exciting, yes.

All right, Jisung will please you once more. He kisses your cunt softly, long and languid velvet like kitten licks to push you further. His own rutting is much slower which proves to be a painful decision for he can’t control himself when his abdomen cramps up and painfully moans against your chest as he stands up to release all over your swollen and irritated cunt.

The feeling of his come feels like boiling water spilt on an open wound. It makes you come for the third time this night, the feeling increasing when he hums hungrily as he rubs his come in a sheer layer, ointment to your ache. The remaining that stuck to his hand, on his cock, rubbing up and down to suffer that same overstimulation at his own hands. This is his solidarity for what he’s caused you.

Tired and panting, Jisung takes a seat beside you. Caressing your face while trying to regain some stamina. You’re so spent that you lean into his touch, kissing his soiled hand and licking the saltiness off of it to savor him the way he has you.

Fuck… that’s making his dick twitch.

“Pure nectar from the forbidden fruit.” Jisung leans into your ear, kissing your cheek softly as he helps you onto his lap. You whine but ultimately allow him for there’s one more thing he can offer you and you need it.

His fingers are soft when they touch your entrance. It’s so soft and so warm, he can only imagine how sensitive you are. The image makes him moan softly against your ear. Your head resting on his shoulder and your arms wrapped around his torso. Limp yet so needy against his body. The body heat between both creates a layer of perspiration that travels from that connection onto your entire body.

Jisung rubs your back in soothing circles, leaving peppered kisses onto your hair and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. He inhales and exhales like his life depended on it, kiss after kiss after kiss.

“You’ve always been so good to me, Y/n. Do you like how I’m thanking you?” He hums, lifting your face with a finger on your chin. “Yes…” you sincerely confess in a breath, returning the favor with a slow kiss that allows your tongues to finally explore and examine each other the way you both are doing. By any form, you two will always find a way to please each other.

“And, I think I should keep going so you can fully understand how much I like you and have liked you…” he mutters in between kisses, his tongue shoving the words down your throat so you’ll digest them immediately.

You can only nod, feverishly and with a shiver down your spine when he holds your lower back, helping you up while the tip of his cock rubs slowly against your folds. You can tell it’s helping him get hard. His flaccid cock rapidly hardens with every stroke, his breathing increases and comes out shaky against your ear. It doesn’t help that you’re kissing his throat like you were back at the bar with the exception that they’re less hungry and far more passionate.

“Can I fuck you, Y/n?” He begs, eyes droopy in a plea. If it wasn’t because of how he’s holding you, you’d be sure his hands would be together in a prayer. You hum, pretending to contemplate when your answer had been decided long ago.

“I don’t know…” you tease. God only knew his abhorrence of those stupid three words. He’ll make sure to knock them out of your vocabulary if you say yes. For now, like the brat he is, he shakes and writhes, tantrum-like while his words come out in elongated whines.

“Please, Y/n…” he cries out, his grasp on you tightening slightly. You hum again but you don’t speak, basking in the pretty sounds he makes when he doesn’t get what he wants.

“You can’t feed me and then starve me… I’ll go crazy if I don’t taste you again.” He pleads, lower lip jutting out and letting his face get closer to yours. He’s so pretty like this that you can’t help but concede.

With a giggle you nod, “Very well then.” You tell him, kissing his cheek. The sweet act is gone when he lowers you down on his hard cock. You had seen it moments prior but hadn’t registered that the stretch would sting like this. It’s not bad, matter of fact it feels so fucking good… and it doesn’t help that he’s long enough that you feel him in your stomach.

“Ji…” You moan out in parts, eyelids fluttering as he bottoms out. Jisung sucks in air through his teeth when he feels your ass on his balls, squishing them and begging them to please you. That is something that he will hear out anytime.

Your voice sends him a whirlwind, “Give me your hand.” You request from him. If it wasn’t for the sheer fact that you wanted him to see and feel what he was doing to you, you’d spend more time admiring his large hands. Seeing them this way, you can understand how he made you come perfectly.

Leaning back causes you to squish his testicles further. A moan leaves his lips hungrily as he admires you through hooded lids, his head thrown over the backrest. When he feels where you placed his hand, he snaps it up, admiring the prominent budge on your stomach and how warm it felt to be in you.

“See?” You ask in the sweetest tone, smiling at him. He returns it with a nod, caressing what he’s caused. Instinctively, he bucks his hips upward, a moan erupting from both your lips due to the friction and the image. It’s like a live painting being made before him.

“So pretty…” he coos, his fingers dancing around the imprint. His thrusts increase in pace, your head rolling back in pleasure. It’s not fair that he has to do all the work; holding onto your thighs, you begin moving up and down on his shaft.

His moans get louder and his hands roam your body like undiscovered land. Landing on your breast and squeezing them. Your own hands leave your thighs to help him in kneading, yelping when his fingers take a hold of your nipples to squeeze them. “You’re doing so good, Jisungie.” You praise, each word received with a hard thrust from him and a whine, thanking you.

“My Jisungie is so big now…” you moan, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss, he holds your hips while increasing his pace. “Such big hands,” reaching for one, you kiss his palm before letting it fall to its initial spot.

“Such big pretty lips…” Your teeth nip his lower lip, reopening the cut from your earlier‘s cannibalistic game. “The most beautiful big eyes.” And with a drop of his blood on your lip, you kiss his eyelid. Eyelashes flutter upon feeling your warm moist flesh.

You attempt to sound just as tempting and sultry, but his thrusts along your hips hopping on his dick— your words leave out in broken moans and cries.

“And such a fucking big dick that will make my guts yearn for it again.”

Jisung’s eyes blow out, lips parting and licking off the blood from them. He allows himself to be vocal now. There’s no holding back when his hands grasp your ass and hold you in place. His hips move up rapidly, reaching deeper than he had previously. Your lower body stings from his handling, it doesn’t help that his testicles are slapping against you that creates an echo to play all over your living room.

You’re being fucked stupid that no coherent words attempt to leave you anymore. Anything that does are moans and cries which he swallows entirely when he grasps your jaw harshly to kiss you as messy and wettly as he did at the bar. There’s some teeth and so much tongue but neither care when the feeling of your walls molding around his cock, that they’ll forget how good his fingers initially made you feel.

He’s so swollen, you feel it with every thrust the same way he feels you grip him with no intention of letting go until you both get what you want. It’s such a perfect fit that makes his abdomen ache. He’s so ready and so are you.

“Finish… please, finish.” He begs, hips move messily and mindlessly. He’s so ready to be done but he needs you to come first. It’s not until he shifts and brings you closer that his mouth wraps around your tit. Hungrily kissing it like a starved animal. His teeth take no mercy in biting the skin around and your nipple, leaving indentations of his pretty teeth. At least you’ll have his smile engraved on you.

He continues on the second one, your nipples so hard that they ache from his sucking and biting. And when he feels the needs to insert two fingers in you while he fucks desperately with squelches imploring you both to finish, you can’t help but clamp around him with a loud moan erupting from your lips and coming around him. Fingers and cock.

Your cries don’t seize, they only increase when he himself spills within you. It’s so warm, almost hot and there’s so much that you can feel it run down the sides as he remains in you. Poor Jisung, he had been holding it for so long. Your poor little, Jisungie.

You squirm on top of him, shaking from the great orgasm. Something you hadn’t had since that one time you masturbated at nineteen. Thank you Jisung for being such a great sport.

“You know,” Jisung is the first to talk, swallowing. He was parched. “I’m so glad I waited for this.” He smiles tiredly, you giggle with a sigh but ultimately nod. “I’m sure other girls were satisfying enough.” You say, to which he shakes his head.

“No, I meant sex.” He confesses confidently until he coils in when he realizes what he’s said. Your surprised look only makes the feeling grow. “No way.”

He nods

“No way! There’s no way you fucked me this good with it being your first time!” You attempt to lean back to look at him but your body aches and it also decrees that it wants to cling to Jisung’s as much as it can so the most you muster is looking up at him.

It’s such a pretty image when you notice the bashful look on his face, crimson blush consuming his entire body. How he, out of custom, smiles and throws his head back with his index finger extended under his nose to cover his mouth. There’s your sweet Jisung.

You laugh quietly, hand going up to caress his hair. “So cute… you’ll always be my cute Jisungie.” The statement is received with a groan but ultimately, Jisung relents. Kissing you once more, refined and sweetly. He understand what you mean and he also understands that you mean it differently now. Therefore, he won’t dwell on it. Sure, you’ll always look at him in such a sweet image but now with the addition that he has proven to you how much he’s grown… as a man.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Ma'am VI

Aitana Bonmatí x Royal!Reader

Summary: You come home after a meeting

"Sorry," You laughed," This must be a pretty elaborate joke."

But no one at the table was laughing and your own petered off uncertainly.

"No, I'm serious. Who's pulling this prank?"

You glanced between your father and your brother but neither of them had a hint of a smile on their faces.

"I understand that this might come as a surprise-"

"A surprise?! You're not telling me you're actually serious."

"Y/n," Your brother said," I know that this isn't what you expected-"

You stood up, hands slamming onto the table. "No! You can't be serious. I wasn't even born second in line. Are you crazy? This is breaking, like, years of tradition!"

"As the reigning king, I'm well within my rights to-"

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should!"

"It's already been decided," Your father cut in, holding your gaze unwaveringly," William does not wish to be King and does not wish to for his children to feel the same pressure. Harry has already made his own thoughts on the moment known. It falls-"

"If you say it falls to me, I swear to god-"

"As my only other child, you are next in line."

"Do you understand how crazy you sound? Skipping over two perfectly good lines of succession to instate your youngest child as heir?! What will the media-"

"The media has no say in family decisions," Your father said," Don't think of them. Is it truly this bad for you? That you cannot see a world where you sit on the throne?"

You pursed your lips, glancing away from your father to your brother. "This is truly what you want? William, you and Kate are beloved-"

"I want what's best for my family, I hope you can understand that."

You narrowed your eyes at your brother, poking your finger into his chest. "You so owe me for this," You told him," Big time."

He grinned. "So that's a yes?"

You rolled your eyes. "Well," You said," I always did look better with a crown than the rest of you."

It was only on the flight home that you'd realised just what you agreed to, though to use the word agree would probably be wrong. Your agreement didn't matter much at all actually. With or without your consent, it would have happened.

Something that you realised with startling clarity the moment you stepped through the front door.

The decision had been made.

Now all you needed to do was tell your wife.

"Well, hello, Rufus," You cooed as your nine week old Corgi came bounding towards you," Were you good for your Mami? I think you were!"

"The girls are training were all spoiling him," Aitana said, hip leaning against the wall and arms crossed over her chest," You're home late."

"Meeting ran over," You replied, looping your arms around Aitana's waist to pull her closer," I missed you though."

"I know," She said," You only sent me twenty-thousand messages telling me."

"Don't be stupid," You said," It was at least thirty-thousand."

Aitana rolled her eyes, dropping a soft kiss to your lips.

"Well your son kept me very good company."

"Our son," You corrected, leaning down to pick up the happy Rufus so he could join in," Like I knew he would. He's a good boy."

"Well that good boy took over your side of the bed so you might not be getting it back."

"That's okay. There's a perfectly nice bed at Buckingham Palace waiting for us."

"A bed in which Rufus will sleep in," Aitana insisted and you rolled your eyes, lifting up your wiggling puppy to eye height.

"You win this round, Mr, but don't go around thinking that you're stealing my wife and my side of the bed."

Rufus licked your nose.

"Yeah, I love you too."

"Me or the dog?"

"Both?"

"Good."

It isn't until early evening that you get the chance to tell Aitana about your meeting, when you're curled up in bed together and her head is pillowed on your chest.

"William has withdrawn himself and his children from the line of succession," You said, voice low like it was something secret you were telling her," And Harry's already done the same."

"I don't understand," Aitana said, drawing a soft pattern on your stomach with her finger," What does that mean for us?"

Your muscles tensed under her touch and you had to remind yourself to breath.

"Well, with my brothers and their lines are out," You replied," I mean, technically, it falls-"

"To you," Aitana said," You're next in line."

"I can always abdicate," You explained," I won't take the crown if you don't want me to. I can always-"

You didn't get to finish your thought because Aitana surged forward to plant a kiss on your lips.

"I think," She said," You would look very good in a crown."

"Yeah? I mean, you'd get a crown too."

"Shh," Aitana said, grinning as kisses were given lower and lower," Let's focus on you first."