#but i mean punching it again is just tenderizing it more; right?

[sabuleum]

...okay, that got them: they chuckle at his question, forge-hardened arms crossing low across their torso. ❝ well, I wasn't planning to eat my weight in fish today, but if you're challenging me— ❞ they shrug. park them in a dungeon for a day and put a few really solid fights on the table... there probably wasn't a world in which it'd be possible in one day, but they'd certainly make an impressive effort.

❝ nah. I plan to smoke one, whole, and butcher the biggest one into cuts, ❞ that monstrosity was only a little more than a head shorter than him, at most, ❝ which'll be more than enough to cover me for a while. 's good fish, best when it's fresh. so you're doing me a favor, really.

–oh, and if you need help gutting and fileting it, just let me know. it can be a little tricky. ❞ luckily, she's had a lot of practice.

He does, but something about being called Earthmate feels reverent for Raguna? There's a lot worse things he puts up with around Trampoli, names aside. Case and point, Emke is gifting rather than tasking. . . and a whole fish at that?!

"Bwuh? Whoa!" A really big fish, mind you! If he were to heft it up by the tail it looked as though it would be at least half as long as he is tall! "Thank you? But- are you saying you can go through two on your own? Like in a day??" Wouldn't put it past the blacksmith. Something about them.

[lonelainee]

contains nsfw content ... :33 char :: megumi fushiguro, jjk

megumi who is a surprisingly tender lover. in public he hardly smiles, his eyes look sharp and his frown even sharper. any sane person would know to steer clear. just the way he wanted.

he had a reputation for being rough. he fought anyone who got on his nerves, he punched people without a second thought if they said something stupid— typically itadori— and he didn't seem like he cared about how hard his jabs landed either. I mean.. they pissed him off, right? they deserved it.

but you knew that couldn't be farther from the truth.

megumi was a sucker for holding your hand when he slipped his cock through your folds and past the first tight ringlet of your cunt. he'd glance down at your face, his lips agape and brows furrowed. black strands of hair cling to the sweat on his face, his deep blue eyes locking onto yours and refusing to let go of your gaze until he is positive that you're okay.

he'd whisper sweet nothings as he cautiously pushed his hips forward, reassuring you that you'll be okay as your poor pussy took the first half of his cock. when your breath caught in your throat and your body clenched, he would kiss you softly until you calmed down. why? because he cared. he was much more concerned about accidentally hurting you than anything else.

he was so gentle, the roll of his hips felt like his tip was kissing your cervix. when you shuddered at the sensation he'd lightly squeeze your hand, kisses littering up your flushed cheeks.

"breathe.. you're doing so good.. breathe.." was all he would whisper as he picked up his pace, his own breath growing hoarse and rugged as your slick hole squeezed his cock. it took everything in him not to just ruin your pretty cunt for his own satisfaction. but he couldn't— he'd never do something like that to someone as precious and valuable as you. you were the only person in this cruel world that he treated so delicately.

his free hand holds onto the bed frame above your head, his nails digging into the wood. you felt so good it was driving him insane. how could one person be so perfect? your body, your mind, your voice, your laugh— God he just loved it all. he was so lost in the tension on your face and the dazed look in your eyes he hadn't even noticed just how hard he was thrusting.

the sweet sound of your nonsensical murmurs and sharp inhales filled the air, entangling with his own groans and strangled gasps. his hips snapped on their own, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the emptiness of his dorm room. your hands reached hastily for megumi's shoulders, searching for any sense of stability as you felt that familiar tingle growing in your toes, inching up your body with each animalistic plunge. his thrusts were growing uneven and erratic, he must be close too.

all megumi could feel was a sudden gushing around his shaft, it made his eyes widen a little before they fell shut again as a hot load of cum bubbled up in the tip of the condom. and you felt it too. you felt the surge of liquid that forced its way out of your body, followed by the bloated condom that filled itself deep inside your spongey walls. you shivered at the sensation, gasps leaving your lips as your hips shook and your legs trembled. your freshly manicured nails left dents in megumi's back as you battled the sharp jitters in your body, plump glossy lips agape. he leaned in, capturing that vulnerable and personal expression on your face into a deep kiss.

megumi looked down, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. both of your lower halves were soaked in a sticky but sweet liquid, dripping down both of your legs and pooling onto the mattress.

"shit.."

megumi whispered, seemingly flustered by the scene in front of him. he carefully pulled out, taking off the now filled condom and tossing it in the small bin by his bed. he glanced at you, a surprised expression on his face. did he just.. make you squirt..? he had never done that to you before. he felt prideful of course, but also a little worried.

"are you okay?" he stepped off the bed, wiping himself down with a bath towel and pulling his grey sweatpants back up. did he go too far? he should've been more mindful. now the bed was ruined and your body still shook-

"megs.. it's okay." you whisper, your voice a little dry but still so soft and gentle.

he looked at you with the same flat expression as always, but you could tell he held a look of concern in those pretty blue eyes of his. megumi didn't say a word as he scooped you up in his arms, not caring that you were still soaking wet, and carried you into the bathroom to run you a hot bath. your hips still jerked every few seconds and you reassured him that you're okay but he still looked like a puppy that just bit his owner.

he sat by the bath the entire time, not caring that his abdomen and sweatpants were still damp from carrying you. his hands gently cleaned your body with the wash cloth, refusing to let you move a single muscle. he whispered little apologises into your ear as he kissed your cheek, drying you off and dressing you into any random shirt he could find. he most definitely not letting you walk back to your dorm after that, so you'd be staying here for the night whether you liked it or not.

you tried explaining to megumi that you were fine and it wasn't uncommon for girls to do that but he didn't care, seeing you so sensitive and vulnerable must've ignited something in him. some sort of higher level of protectiveness that he didn't even know was possible.

you laid across his bare chest, wrapped up in fluffy blankets as you both decided to sleep on the small leather couch while the bedsheets dried off on the balcony.

megumi wouldn't admit it, but he really wanted to see you do that again.

[0omillo0]

Comfort after a fight

a/n: This was such a heartfelt request! I can really imagine Bang Chan being incredibly tender and empathetic in this kind of situation. The idea of him comforting you after a moment of accidental hurt just shows how deeply he cares. He'd do anything to make it right again, and he'd definitely be the kind of person to sit with you through your toughest moments, never letting go.

this is for @hyunjins-orange-slice-too <3 thank you cutie!!

꒰ 🗯️ ꒱

It was a rough day for Bang Chan, and it showed. His shoulders sagged, face etched with exhaustion, and he barely managed a small smile as he stepped into the apartment. You had noticed his demeanor immediately, sensing that something was off, but you gave him space, as he often needed time to unwind before he opened up.

However, tonight was different. Tension hung heavy in the air, thick and palpable. You busied yourself in the kitchen, hoping to make him something to eat, a small gesture of comfort. But as you tried to talk to him, to check in, his responses were short, clipped. His patience was wearing thin, and you could feel the fragile balance between you beginning to fray.

“Hey, Chan… I made some dinner for us,” you said softly, walking over to where he sat slumped on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through his phone.

“Not hungry,” he muttered without looking up.

You bit your lip, trying not to take it personally. You knew he had bad days, that sometimes his own mind was his worst enemy, but the distance between you tonight felt unsettling. You sat down beside him, offering a small, tentative smile.

“Are you okay? You seem… off.”

At that, something snapped.

“Can you not?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the room like a knife. “I just need space, alright? Why do you always have to push? You don’t get it. I don’t want to talk!”

The words stung more than they should have, especially because you knew he didn’t mean them. But the suddenness of his outburst, the harshness in his voice, felt like a punch to the chest.

You recoiled slightly, blinking back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “I—I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to upset you…”

But it was too late. The floodgates inside you had opened. Your chest tightened, and the familiar, suffocating feeling of panic began to creep in. Your breath quickened, becoming shallow and erratic, and the room suddenly felt too small, the air too thick.

Chan, who had turned away in frustration, didn’t notice at first. But as the seconds passed, he heard it—your ragged breaths, the soft, choked sobs that you were desperately trying to hold back. He glanced over, his anger fading as quickly as it had come when he saw the state you were in.

Your hands were trembling, your eyes wide with fear, unfocused, and your breath was coming in short, panicked gasps. He had never seen you like this before, and the realization hit him like a ton of bricks: he had caused this. He had hurt you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, immediately softening, his own heart clenching with guilt. “Oh God, no…”

He moved closer, gently taking your hands in his. You flinched slightly at the touch, still lost in the grip of the panic attack, but he didn’t let go.

“Hey, hey,” his voice was low, soothing, filled with regret. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean it. I swear, I didn’t mean it.”

You couldn’t respond. Your mind was racing too fast, your body betraying you as you struggled to catch your breath. But Chan didn’t leave. He stayed there, his hands enveloping yours, grounding you.

“Breathe with me, okay? Just breathe,” he coaxed gently, his own breathing slowing as he demonstrated for you. “In… and out. You’re safe. I’m right here.”

His voice was soft, a constant anchor in the storm swirling inside you. He repeated the words over and over, never rushing you, never leaving your side.

“In and out. You’re doing so good,” he whispered, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “I’m so sorry. Please… I’m so sorry.”

Eventually, the tightness in your chest began to ease, and your breathing, though shaky, started to even out. Your grip on his hand tightened, as if you were afraid to let go, and he responded by pulling you closer, enveloping you in a protective embrace.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to choke out, your voice small and broken. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” he interrupted quickly, holding you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled. I—I just had a bad day, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

You buried your face in his chest, letting the last of the tremors fade as you breathed in his familiar scent, the one that always brought you comfort.

“I didn’t mean to push,” you whispered. “I just wanted to help.”

“I know,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “And you didn’t deserve that. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I hate that I made you feel like this.”

You could hear the guilt in his voice, the way it cracked with emotion, and it broke your heart. You knew he never meant to hurt you, and seeing how much it affected him now made it all the more clear.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, though your voice wavered. “I just… I was scared.”

“I know,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with regret. “I promise, I’ll never let that happen again. I’ll be better.”

There was silence for a moment as you both took in the gravity of what had just happened. But the weight of it slowly lifted as he continued to hold you, grounding you with his presence, his warmth.

“I love you,” he whispered into your hair. “I’ll do better. I swear.”

You nodded against him, feeling the sincerity in his words. And though the panic had left you drained, there was a sense of relief in knowing that he was there, that he understood.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

And as you sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the storm inside you calmed, replaced by the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.

[rafesbabygirlx]

You’re All I Have

Masterlist

JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: you are JJs best friend who’s not John B or Pope and he always comes to you when something happens.

A/N: loosely based of the scene of Luke and JJ in the show

Word count: 567

Warnings: parental abuse, gun, kissing, angst, fluff at the end of

JJ bursts through the door of your small shack, the wood rattling as he steps in. You’re just a mile down the road from him and it seems trouble had found him again. You’re sitting on the couch with a textbook in your lap, trying to make use of a rare day off, but the sudden commotion jerks your attention his way. You can’t see his face clearly; his head is down, and his whole frame is shaking. He paces, muttering something under his breath.

You set your book aside and jump up, reaching out. “JJ? What’s going on?” He swats your hands away, but you know he means no harm—just caught in the whirlwind of whatever just happened. You reach out again, dodging his attempts to push you back, and finally manage to hold his face in your hands. “Talk to me, J. Please.”

He raises his head, and your heart drops at the sight. His face is bloodied and bruised. “Damn it, again?” You pull him to the couch, guiding him down gently. Without another word, you rush to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. Back at his side, you open it up and start tending to his injuries, every movement practiced, almost automatic now.

“We were arguing—same as usual,” he mumbles, voice thick with frustration. “But this time, it was my fault. I threw the first punch, knowing he’d just take me down. It’s always my fault.”

“J, don’t say that,” you whisper, dabbing a cut on his cheek. “You don’t deserve this.” Your fingers gesture lightly over his bruised face, reminding him of his worth.

He begins to cry, the tears spilling over as he speaks through them. “When he went outside, I saw my chance. I shoved him down the stairs, hard, and when he fell, I… I held it to his head. I wanted to so bad, you have no idea.”

Your heart stops as you watch him reach into his back pocket, pulling out a gun. He grips it tightly, his other hand pressing against his forehead in anguish.

“I couldn’t do it. I should have—I should’ve killed him,” he chokes out. You’re frozen in shock but manage to reach out slowly, taking the gun from his hand and setting it firmly on the coffee table. Then you go back to work, focusing on him, the pain written on his face and in his voice.

“JJ, your life would be better without that man,” you say, refusing to even speak the man’s name. “But I know you. You did the right thing. Because no matter how much you hate him, you’d hate yourself even more if you did something like that. You are not a killer.”

You finish cleaning him up, cupping his cheeks in your hands. “You’re broken, sure. But you’re better than him, better than all this. You may not believe it, but I do. You’re kind, you’re selfless, and you’re the strongest person I know.”

He looks up, his eyes glassy. “You really think that?”

“I do.” His hands come up to cover yours as he leans in, and his lips meet yours softly, lingering. It’s not rushed or intense—just a tender, reassuring moment. He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against yours, a small, hopeful smile on his face.

“Maybe I can believe in myself a little if you do.”

[kaisaerinlover]

michael kaiser ^__^

tw: not much just previous abuse

he’s so gentle today, you know he’s probably having a tough day, practice might have been difficult; and his head in general. kaiser has a hundred years worth of trauma, and you do too. maybe it’s why you’re together. you want to fix his and he only makes more for you, but it’s okay, you’re both fine with this arrangement, “if you weren’t you would leave” he always told you. it’s okay if he cracks your fragile porcelain skin sometimes, because it makes the sparse instances where he is tender so much more sweet. but it makes the next day bittersweet too. the next punch. next insult. next round of manipulative whispers in your ears. all of them end up being bittersweet after the softness he displayed just the day before. but it’s okay.

you’re laid together on his bed, he probably had a long day at practice. “tell me, schatz;” he starts. you perk up to listen, your eyes boring into his. his eyes look so different right now, but you can’t pinpoint what it is. “why are you with me, hm?” he asks, his voice wavered a little, but he still sounded confident as ever. you’re still looking into his eyes, how come they aren’t the same as normal? “because i love you a lot” you retort back. his eyes, it’s not the colour that’s different, they’re the deep shade of blue they always are.

his hand on your cheek, kneading it and pinching it softly is enough to snap you out from those thoughts about the sudden difference in his eyes. “why?” it’s a vulnerable moment for kaiser, he usually doesn’t ponder things like this. “how do you love someone like me?” he adds. how DO you love someone like him? it’s a good question, even though you’ll only admit that in the furthest corner of your pure soul. you love him because he’s perfect. he’s so perfect for you, and you think you’re perfect for him. you like his eyes. what is it about them that’s different? the shape is the same?

“i like you as a whole” you answer back to him. it’s not a lie, you like everything he has to give you. you like the way he calls you from another room. “prinzesschen come here” and you like those mean words and punches he hurls at you at times. you like the star striker of bastard münchen and you like the remnants of the broken child inside of him. he holds your hand and squeezes it a bit “i love you my baby, love you so much” he’s looking deeply into your eyes, can he tell you’re wondering what’s different? “i love you the most”

“would you ever leave me?” it’s a hard question to answer, but yet again, you wouldn’t ever admit that to yourself. why would you ever admit there’s a possibility you might leave him? he’s pretty mean at times, most of the time, almost all of the time, but even then, it’s not enough to make you leave. nothing is. is he scared you’re going to leave? you aren’t sure. you bring your hand to his hair and play with it in your fingers, turning his golden locks in circles that amount to nothing, just harmless fun for you. “never in a million years” what is wrong with his eyes anyway? you can see your reflection better in them now, why is that?

moments like these are rare. laid in bed with your boyfriend holding hands, playing with his hair as he cups your face in a manner that suggests he’s scared of shattering you, his doll, this is so so rare. it’s almost like you’re a normal couple, both of you enjoy this normalcy, even though only one is to blame for the poor dynamic of your relationship. “wenn du mich verlässt was soll ich dann tun, meine klein prinzessin?” he asks you. “sie sollten nicht einmal darüber nachdenken denn es wird nie passieren das verspreche ich” you retort back. you smile at him and he smiles back for a second.

his smile fades and you almost flinch for what’s to come. maybe a black eye. but all you get is his face buried in your neck and a weird wetness there. your boyfriend is sniffling into your neck, michael kaiser is crying into your neck. you pat the back of his head and shh him soothingly. ah, that’s what was different about his eyes, they were glossy and wet from the tears threatening to spill over and ruin this moment. but it’s okay, it’s not ruined. you squeeze him tightly, in a loving way of course, you squeeze him enough that he doesn’t feel scared about you leaving anymore, not for now anyway. he quietly cries into your neck and you let him, because what else would you do. kaiser is just as broken as you. you like this rare moment of vulnerability, as bad as it sounds. kaiser is really human, isn’t he? the same as you.

right now, you are not adults. you are the same two broken children you always have been, you were before. you’re kaiser’s sweet angel hugging him after he scraped his knee playing soccer at the park. you kiss his head sweetly. it’s hard to not feel bad for him, how can you not. all he is right now is that crying little kid. and he sees you the exact same way. maybe that’s why he was so gentle today, because all he saw is the girl from his kindergarten class, the shy little thing from his class, the one he vaguely remembers, yet didn’t notice her until he dug deep in his memories again.

he’s asleep eventually, still in your arms, and you’re almost there, and you feel the most comfortable you have in years. your insides are soft and you’re content. tomorrow isn’t promised, who knows how he’ll act tomorrow. but who actually cares? you’ll take this small victory for tonight, maybe he’ll be nicer tomorrow if you’re lucky. but even if not, the tear stained shirt and the faint sounds of his sniffles are enough to get you through anything after this.

he’s just human after all, yet you are his little angel

german translations

“what will i do when you leave me my little princess”

“nothing because it won’t ever happen i promise”

sorry for using actual german:< i just prefer those phrases in german since it’s my first language and i like these sentimental valued phrases better in german anyway hehe hope u enjoyed if u read it ♡

[hyperfixationhobo]

Headcanons of the LADS!!!!!

———————————

If there’s one thing that i absolutely love it’s headcanons! I always take my time to study characters and just take the info and sprint with it cause ain’t no one gonna stop me. So why not do it for the Lads? Just some little things I think make them a bit more fleshed out.

Xavier:

. Sleeps wearing running shorts and a sweaters.

. Said sweaters constantly have star themed designs and are pastel.

. Speaking of pastel I really want him to wear more pastel colors. Like I get the color scheme but dammit he’ll look so good in them!

. Uses 3 in 1.

. Please make him stop using that.

. Has the best puppy dog eyes and definitely uses it to his advantage.

. He’s definitely the type to give some guy a quick punch to the throat if he deems it necessary. He does it so fast no one really has the time to process it before he’s using his ‘innocent eyes’.

. Definitely has a ton of plushies after meeting you.

. I think his bedroom would be a bit cluttered.

. The type to research your favorite hobby then proceed to pretend he doesn’t know about said hobby but asks you just the right questions cause he did his research.

. Bunny house slippers…need I say more?

. Definitely watches anime with you.

. Flexible…just gonna leave that here.

. Not the best at being aware of temperature, has worn shorts in the middle of winter.

Zayne

. To me Zayne seems like the type to cry if you cry. I mean like you have to be sobbing and he’ll comfort you and once you fall asleep he starts to cry cause he isn’t capable of taking away what is causing you pain.

. Isn’t the best with expressing emotions so he writes you letters to try to make up for it. Makes communicating much easier tbh.

. Biggest cuddleslut out there. Absolute cuddlewhore. He doesn’t see you much and his power is ice so I think the warmth that comes with cuddling is something he’s addicted to.

. Loves holding your hand, again for the warmth.

. Naturally cold hands so he rubs them together to warm them before touching someone.

. Freezing feet. Just straight up frozen.

. “Zayne I love you but keep your feet on your side of the bed or put on some socks.

. Doesn’t admit it but addicted to coffee.

. Terrible hand writing.

. Hates Brussels sprouts.

. Loves jigsaw puzzles.

. Also loves eggnog, especially with some cinnamon sprinkled on top.

. (I can’t remember which arm of his gets frozen I think it’s the left) His left arm is a bit more tender than his right so he loves when you massage it.

. Wears every scarf you buy him.

Rafayel

. Anytime I image Rafayel in clothes it always contains lace and silk. I have no idea why but to me it seems like something he would wear.

. Has mixed opinions about aquariums. On one hand some aquariums do help out sick and injured sea life and yeah that’s amazing especially if the sea animal wouldn’t survive in the wild anymore. On the other hand some aquariums are greedy money hogging bastards and just keep sea life just to keep it.

. Is the type to give the silent treatment then proceed to break it cause he misses talking to you.

. Has watched the little mermaid, absolutely loves it even if it’s completely wrong about his species.

. “Man if I could steal voices I would.”

. Can’t dance for shit.

. Self care king.

. Gets sick quite easily.

. Can’t hold his alcohol and gets drunk pretty easily.

. Definitely soaks in bubble baths.

. The second idiot in ‘the two idiots’ love trope. Absolutely fuels impulse decisions.

. “That seems very dangerous….lets do it!”

. Two words to describe his studio. Organized mess.

. Really really serious about promises. You’re not allowed to break anymore.

Sylus

. Eats steaks medium rare. He tried rare and absolutely not.

. Unknowingly taps his foot when irritated.

. Also unknowingly clicks his pen when focused.

. Only writes in cursive.

. Picks you up just to pick you up.

. Definitely hates when people wake him up by opening the curtain.

. Gets sunburnt easily.

. Hides your shoes to make you stay longer.

. Is the type to get mad at someone being too loud cause he’s on the phone even though he’s in the middle of a fucking shoot out.

. “Yknow it’s pretty rude to be loud when someone’s on the phone.”

. Definitely has fuzzy house shoes.

. Has had his hardwood floor waxed then proceeded to slip and fall from the waxed floor and now when his floor gets waxed he stays out the entire day.

. Loves ice cream.

. His body is a fucking heater. Cuddles are only done with the AC set to below freezing.

[cheollipop]

take a break

navi | taglist

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

w.c.: 2.6k

tags: smut, fluff

after days of isolating himself in his room to study, you offered to help san relax. you forgot one thing, however -- that choi san has always been better at giving love than receiving it.

warnings: soft dom!san, praise, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, masturbation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (boooo 👎), creampie, impregnation/breeding kink, overstimulation, slight cockwarming, nicknames (sannie; baby, angel, darling, love, treasure)

A/N: this fic came out of nowhere ngl, I was planning another one and then BAM- over 2k words of filth -- some of the dialogue in this made me short-circuit. I hope you enjoy! ^^ <3

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!!

⊹₊┈���✿ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈₊⊹

You peeked through the open door into San's room, your gaze fixing on his slumped shoulders as he typed away at his laptop. The final week of the semester was always the hardest on him, his assignments piling up just before exam season. He'd often isolate himself in his room for days, and you'd have to spoon-feed him his meals when he refused to look away from his laptop. He was mumbling to himself while his fingers tirelessly punched at the keyboard, deleting words and sentences and replacing them with ones he found more appropriate.

You smiled to yourself, pushing yourself off the doorframe and walking towards him. His body jolted when you placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Shit, babe, you scared me," his hand flew to his chest, his heart beating rapidly under his palm.

Your smile widened. How cute, you thought. "Sorry," you kissed the tip of his nose. Taking in the redness of his eyes, probably dry and painful whenever he blinked, you pulled the eyedropper from behind your back. "Lean back," you muttered the instruction.

"There's no need-"

You raised an eyebrow at him, and he stopped his sentence, leaning his head back against the headrest. Your smile returned for a second before fading to make way for your tongue to peek out in concentration. Your fingers were gentle against his eyelids, holding them open while dropping the liquid into each eye. You pulled away and screwed the lid shut while San blinked rapidly.

"Thank you," he grabbed your hand, swinging it back and forth twice before bringing it to his lips and placing a tender kiss over your knuckles.

Your heart felt warm at the gesture. You ran your free hand through his hair, smoothing down the disheveled locks.

"Why don't you take a break?" You suggested, looking down at him with big eyes – you hoped they would convince him.

"Ah, baby, I really shouldn't," he sighed, looking back at his screen. "It's due in two days and I have so much left to do; I haven't even finished it, let alone proofread whatever I managed to write already-"

You watched as he began to spiral, the stress staining his expression, so you pinched his chin between two fingers and moved his head away from the screen to face you again.

You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Smiling, you lowered your voice so only he could hear you – despite there not being anyone else present. "I've missed you, Sannie. Won't you let me help you relax? I promise it'll feel good."

You saw, in real time, as the hesitation in his eyes disappeared, replaced by excitement when he took in the meaning behind your words.

"Okay."

--

“Fuck,” he threw his head back when you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock – standing hard and throbbing against his lower belly.

You looked up to meet his eyes, fluttering your eyelashes at him as you glided your tongue over the throbbing vein stretching over his length – he almost came right then and there. You were taking him so well, licking at his tip teasingly, his shirt hanging off your shoulders and adding to the visual. He wondered if it would still smell like you even after you washed it.

His thoughts were interrupted when you finally took him into your mouth whole, relaxing your jaw until he hit the back of your throat. San’s hand flew to your nape, tangling in the hair there and pulling harshly, but not enough to pull you off – the pain egging you on.

“Holy fuck, (Y/n), my love. Your mouth- god,” he let out a throaty moan when you swallowed around him.

Your hand reached down to cup his balls, fondling them while you drew him out of your mouth until the tip was leaning against your lips. The corners of your mouth curled, smiling at San’s flushed cheeks, his eyes heavy and lidded as he stared right back at you from where he was leaning against the headboard. San’s hand reached forward to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing back and forth against your cheekbone, touch so delicate you almost forgot you'd had his cock down your throat less than a minute ago.

"My beautiful baby," he breathed, his eyes soft as he took in your features.

San bit down on his bottom lip when you took his cockhead into your mouth again, giving it a firm suck and smiling when he groaned. You flattened your tongue against the underside of his cock and slowly took his length down your throat, nuzzling your nose into the soft skin at the base. You sectioned your cheeks, your eyes tearing up as you tried not to gag around him, his cock twitching uncontrollablely in your mouth.

"Fuck, (Y/n) wait, wait-" San's hands cupped your jaw, pulling you off him, a string of spit connecting you to his cockhead. His cheeks were flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly as he gazed at you with hooded eyes, glazed over with lust. "I almost came, shit, sorry. Give me a second."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "That's the point, no?" You breathed out a laugh.

His mouth curled into a mischievous smirk. "Not yet."

With deft fingers, San flipped your positions, stripping you of your sweats and panties and throwing them off the bed before sitting back on his heels to take you in – dressed in nothing but his shirt. With his hands cupping your knees, he spread your legs in front of him, nearly growling at the glistening arousal dripping from your pussy – the tight ring clenching and unclenching around nothing.

"What a-are you doing?"

"It's your turn now," his eyes were fixed on your middle, clicking his tongue when your legs closed around it. San parted them again, met with a little resistance, his hands sliding down your inner thighs teasingly.

You sat up the best you can, pouting as heat creeped up your face when your eyes flitted down to San's cock – painfully hard, the tip red and angry where it stood against his lower belly. "But I'm supposed to be making you feel good."

San smiled, dimples dipping into his cheeks while he looked at you fondly. "Oh baby, when do you ever not make me feel good?"

You weren't convinced, closing your legs again and trapping his hands between them. San narrowed his eyes at you, forcing your legs apart yet again and placing himself between them.

"Saaaan," you whined, your knees bumping against his shoulders.

“I thought you said you missed me.” Leaning over your lower half, he kissed down your thighs, leaving a trail of bruises, some darker than others. "Just let me have a taste," he muttered against your skin, his words interrupted by kisses.

"San, stop being a stubborn shit!"

"Have I told you how hot you are when you're angry?" San giggled when you huffed, falling back against the bed with a plop once you realized that he wasn't going to give up. His lips strayed down to place kisses around your mound, not quite close enough to where you need him. "So, what do you say, hm? Can I?" He pressed his lips to your clit, flicking it once with his tongue. Your breath hitched, heat soaring through every nerve in your body.

As per usual, he had won this battle, and he would probably win the next one with only a single sweet smile.

You reached down to cup the back of his head and pushed his face between your legs, his tongue not wasting a second to lap at your folds, swallowing your nectar with a low moan. With his thumbs digging into the skin at either side of your cunt, San spread you out and circled his tongue around your entrance, dipping his tongue in teasingly before moving back up to suck your clit into his mouth. His fingers found your hole before you could complain, stuffing you with two of his digits and curling them to press against your walls until your back jumped off the mattress.

“San- Ngghhh, right there, fuck,” you fisted your hands in San’s hair, pushing his face further into you.

He tongued at your clit with vigor, his eyes closed while he nuzzled his nose into your pubic bone. The sweet noises you were making only incited San to go harder, punching at your g-spot with every thrust. His other hand had long since strayed down to pump his cock, moaning against your clit when he squeezed at his tip, smearing precum down the rest of his length. His hand moved sloppily over his cock, his high only a breath away with the way you were clenching down on his fingers.

“Oh, fuck, San- I’m-”

The vibration of San’s moans as he came into his fist sent you over the edge. Your thighs shook around his shoulders, fingers tugging painfully at his hair while you rolled your hips over his flattened tongue and reveled in the slow pump of his digits inside you as you rode out your high. San slipped his fingers out when your knees pressed against his shoulders in an attempt to close, your hips moving away from his mouth as you began to feel overstimulated. With a final kiss to your clit, San pulled away.

You took in each other’s appearance – you, your cheeks a bright red, panting heavily while your thighs twitched and quivered as you recovered from your orgasm; and him, your arousal dripping from his chin, his eyes hooded and glazed over with lust, his thighs painted with his own cum while his cock twitched where it hung between his legs. You reached a hand out to him and San didn't waste time climbing over you and slotting your lips together, making you taste yourself on his lips. San’s tongue ran over your teeth, then found your own before he sucked it into his mouth. His hips rolled against you, his cock already half-hard where it slid through your dripping folds; your body jolted when it brushed against your sensitive clit.

“See what you’ve done to me? ‘Cumming all over myself before I even got the chance to fuck you properly.” He covered your parted lips with his own, muffling the broken moans he pried out of you with every insistent grind of his hips. “How will you take responsibility? Hm?”

You gripped his shoulder, digging your nails into the skin when shocks of overstimulation brought tears to your eyes, shivers running through your body. “San, S-san, wait- please, give me a second-”

“Mmm, I- ahh, I don’t think you can wait any longer, my darling.” San kissed over your jawline, running his tongue over the shell of your ear. His cock was now fully hard, heavy against your cunt as he continued his unrelenting pace. “I think you still miss me very much.”

--

Your legs shook where they were propped up over San’s shoulders, his cock pounding into you frantically while he bit down on your nipple, nuzzling his nose into the soft flesh around it – bending your body in half so you could take him properly. You were already out of breath, San’s cock pushing so deep inside you and pressing against your g-spot with every forceful thrust. He kissed his way up to your jaw before peppering kisses all over your cheeks and nose, breathing out airy moans in between.

“My love, my sweet girl, you’re taking me so well,” he kissed over your parted lips, taking in the pretty melodies you were expelling. “Such a perfect pussy, hahh- so fucking tight.”

San gripped your thighs, pressing a kiss to your knee beforee bringing them down from his shoulders and wrapping them around his hips to allow his cock even deeper into your heat. You reached for him, and he instantly leaned down so you could wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your chest to his while his hips continued thrusting into you, slowing to a heavy grind before drawing his length out to the tip and slamming back in.

“San, Sannie, feels so gooood- hnnngh,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when San’s hand slipped between your bodies to toy at your clit, flicking it at the same pace as his thrusts.

"Louder. Let everyone hear your pretty voice, angel,” he pressed wet kisses over your flushed cheeks. “Show them all just how much you missed me."

His fingers on your clit circled around to grab a fistful of your ass, guiding your hips to meet his thrusts and watching your skin ripple at the impact. “Good god, I’m going to fill you up, stuff you so full and have you carry my children. Would you like that, treasure?”

“Yeah, yes, please. Give it to me, Sannie. Ngghhh- Make me pregnant, make me a mommy, p-please!”

Broken cries slipped out of your mouth as San hammered his cock into you, feeling it twitch and throb between your walls while he came. He fucked his cum into you while two of his fingers worked your clit, his thrusts desperate as he tried to bring you over the edge with him. He buried his face into your neck, groaning and grunting as he overstimulated himself, fucking into you with urgency.

“Fuuuck, baby, please- please, shit, cum for me,” he pressed his hips into yours, shoving his cock as deep as it could go and pressing the tip against your sweet spot, his cum seeping out of your abused cunt.

San chanted praise into your skin, emitting a hearty groan as your pussy clenched around him when your orgasm finally washed over you: your vision blurred, toes curling as pleasure flooded your body and sent your nerves into overdrive. San remained still, leaving you to ride out your high at your own pace despite being overstimulated himself. He sprinkled soft kisses all over your face – from your chin, to your cheeks, delicately over your closed eyelids, then up to your forehead before moving back down to press gentle pecks to your lips. When you slumped down against the mattress, a sheen of sweat illuminating your skin, San pulled back to look at you. A fond smile adorned his lips and the dimples you loved so much decorated his cheeks, his eyes soft as they took in your content expression.

“Hi,” he spoke, voice so soft you felt a wave of warmth surging in your chest.

“Hey,” you giggled, bringing him in for another kiss – the slow movement of lips, I love you’s whispered against each other’s skin like a prayer.

“(Y/n), baby,” he muttered while his mouth strayed down to your neck.

Your fingers carded through his locks, sighing when he sucked at your sweet spot. “Mm?”

“Not that I don’t love being inside you, but I can’t really pull out when you’ve got me trapped like this,” he chuckled into your neck, kissing over the blossoming bruise he'd left behind.

Your lips curled into a timid smile and you wrapped your limbs tighter around his figure, warming his softening cock between your walls. “Mm, good."

You clenched down on San teasingly, giggling when he hissed sharply, your laughter getting louder when his fingers began to poke at your sides. “You little- let go of me!”

“N-no!” You squirmed under him, gasping for air as he continued to tickle you.

His fingers stopped their ministrations after a few seconds and he smoothed his hands over your waist. “What if I promise to stay here and cuddle with you for the rest of the day? Will you let go of me then?”

Your eyebrows shot up, “what about your assignment?”

San cupped your jaw, his eyes full of love as he looked down at where you laid under him, so beautiful after he’d had you. How could he ever deny you anything?

“It can wait. It seems I've been neglecting my pretty baby and now I gotta make it up to her.”

apply for my tag list here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[imfinereallyy]

Eddie draws on the edge of Steve’s hip, where his shirt rides up from stretching across Eddie’s bed. He’s humming to himself a song Steve doesn’t recognize, but it soothes him.

“What are you drawing?” Steve speaks softly; something about the moment feels gentle. He doesn’t want to break it.

“Hmmm, it’s a secret.” Eddie peaks beneath his bangs and smiles.

Steve leans up on his elbows, “Well, that’s not fair; I think I should know what’s going on my body?”

Eddie only looks at him with mischief as he continues to doodle. “Be grateful, Harrington. You’re getting an original Munson for free.”

Steve can’t help the laugh that escapes him. It is just like Eddie to say something like that. Playful and mean, it makes something settle in Steve. For a long time, he only knows the pain from harsh comments or a sentence with a bite. It is a welcomed change, to feel a bubble of happiness after a light jab.

“Whatever you say, Munson. Just let me see.” Steve tries to push up further to sneak a peek, but Eddie uses his free hand to push him down to the bed. He just happens to catch Steve off guard, sending him into a sprawl that can only be described as a starfish.

“I’m not finished yet.” Eddie grabs his hips and pins him still while he draws. After a few more moments, he says, “Done!”

Steve looks at his work and releases a snort that breaks the careful tension between them. “Are those boobs?”

“Why yes, they are, and a good representation if I say so myself.”

“Do you even know what boobs look like? Like the live version?” Steve knows he should be mad at the sharpie-drawn breasts on his body, but he can’t find it in him to have an angry tone.

“We’ll no. I don’t. And I would much prefer to keep it that way.”

Steve chokes on his spit a little bit, “Did you just come out to me, Eds?”

Steve isn’t sure what he expects. Denial, maybe, Eddie taking back what he said. Steve knows he isn’t handling this right. He doesn’t think Robin would be too happy with his response.

Steve thinks maybe he should see a little bit of fear in Eddie’s demeanor. That shakiness that comes with telling someone a dangerous secret.

What he gets, in the end, isn’t something he could have predicted. Eddie smiles softly, a little bit of his tooth peeking out, and lays his head gently on Steve’s leg. He’s calm and collected. He’s happy, Steve realizes.

“Yea, I guess I did. Not like it was much of a secret, though. Are you upset?” Eddie draws soft circles around the drawing on Steve’s hip—the rough callous on his thumb contradicting his tender touch.

Once again, although the conversation should be anxious, it’s not. Eddie’s question is spoken like he already knows the answer. Maybe he does.

“No, Eddie. I’m not mad. Never would be for that. Just thought it was a funny way of sharing a secret. Though, gotta admit, a very you way of doing it.”

This time Eddie throws his head back when he laughs, before settling back down on Steve’s leg. His giggles never really settled. “Like I said, Stevie wasn’t much of a secret anyway. Well, between us, that is at least. I like to think some, if not all, the kids are oblivious.”

“Erica definitely knows.”

Eddie’s eyes widen in mischief, “Oh, for sure. Pretty sure she would kick the others' asses, too, if they gave me shit for it. And she kicks hard too.”

It’s Steve’s turn to laugh. He’s never had this before, this casualness to serious conversations. Before, Steve is used to screaming and punching, drunken confessions in the bathroom, and throwing up on the mall floor. It isn’t like this, now, with Eddie in his trailer bedroom. It’s good. It’s safe.

“Thank you for telling me, Eds. Something like that is hard to share no matter who you tell it to.��

The softness is back again, “Like I said wasn’t much of a secret. Besides, I don’t think there isn’t any secret of mine you don’t know, Stevie. I think even when I don’t tell you, you kinda already know, don’t you?”

Steve leans one arm forward, while he places his weight on one elbow. He gently takes Eddie’s face in one hand, rubbing circles in the same motion as Eddie’s thumb on his hip.

God, I want to kiss him so bad sometimes, Steve thinks.

“Yea, I already know.”

[hotheadedhero]

De-Stress Methods

When you're having a bad day, the last thing your turtle boyfriend wants is for you to suffer. Fortunately for you, he has his own special way of helping you out.

2003 Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

Meditation is usually his way of going about things but he knows you struggle to clear your head so easily like him. Instead, he beckons you to a rooftop, being sure to cover your eyes as he leads you up an apartment. It's a risky move on his part, both for potentially being seen and you blindly upscaling a ladder but he knows it'll be worth it. Once you're up, he waits just a moment longer.

Slightly disgruntled by the secrecy, you sigh, "Leo, if this is some kind of training exercise, I'm not sure I'm in the mood."

He just smiles as he gently coerces your hand away from your face. It takes a moment to blink away the blur but, when you do, you are blessed with a wondrous array of oranges and purples amidst the wide sky that hangs above you. The sight is breathtaking and the troubles of your day wash off you almost immediately. Leo sits you down with him atop the roof and together you gaze in content silence. Knowing him, this is probably some corny interpretation of 'tomorrow is a new day' but you feel better nonetheless.

Raphael

This man holds nothing back when he's in a bad mood. Give him a punching bag and he'll go to town on it. You, however, couldn't hurt a fly. He loves that about you but even the softest souls need an outlet. Luckily, Raph is in touch with his softer side, especially when it comes to you. That's why he attempts to show you how to knit - get you focused on a task that requires just enough attention to distract you.

"I don't think I've done it right," you admit bashfully as you showcase your poor knitting skills.

Your sullen glance to the floor almost has him giving up on this idea but he doesn't want you to be discouraged. Instead, he gently pinches your chin, points your head up towards him, and kisses your forehead, encouraging you to try again. The great thing about knitting is that you can easily pull the yarn away from your mistake and redo it. It takes some practice but the beaming grin of accomplishment on your face fills him with such pride.

Donatello

When it comes to methods of relaxation, there's nothing quite like tinkering on a new project to get Donnie to unwind. However, that isn't exactly your idea of a soothing pastime. Even just watching how he operates on machinery gets your head into a spin, akin to second-hand stress were he to feel any such stain himself. He places his tools down on the work bench and gets comfortable on the couch with a book, ushering you to join him. You lay your head in his lap and he begins to read, stroking a free hand over your head. After a few paragraphs, he feels you shift and stops reading to look down at you when he catches your stare.

"Please, don't stop," you object with a smile. "I like your voice."

With a tender expression of his own, he continues to read aloud about the geometry of spacetime. He knows it doesn't matter what he reads to you because that isn't the point. The way he sees it, the more obscure the book, the more likely you are to fall asleep and take the well-deserved nap he knows you need.

Michelangelo

Mikey may be a high-energy, goofball who, at face value, doesn't take much seriously but that doesn't mean he's an idiot. Where he seemingly lacks logical smarts, he makes up for in emotional intelligence. As soon as you walk into the lair, he can tell something's wrong. You don't want to talk about it and exerting yourself with any kind of activity sounds like too much energy. That means skateboarding and video games are out of the question then. Not a problem! There's plenty you can do that requires little to no effort. He quickly makes a batch of popcorn and sits you between his legs in front of the TV. As the back of your head rests on his chest, he feeds you so you don't have to worry about lifting a finger.

Through a mouthful, you laugh, "It's okay, Mikey. I can feed myself."

He gently shushes you and pushes another piece of popcorn into your lips. That's all he needed to hear. The moment he gets a laugh out of you is the moment he knows you're feeling better.

[calciumcryptid]

Here is a collection of my thoughts about We Are ships sex lives because I, an asexual, have them for some reason and need to get them out- (What is We Are doing to me?)

TANFANG

According to novel fans, Tan is the top and Fang is a power bottom; however, the show implies Fang is the top. This means the correct answer is they are switches, but we knew that.

Tan loves to get romantic with Fang. Rose petals, scented candles, whether in the bathroom or in the bedroom Tan commits to the most tender of sex. It is canon Tan does the come hither motion, and as much as Fang puts up a fight he adores it.

Though some days Fang gets into his head about the balance of their relationship and encourages Tan to take. Sometimes, Fang just wants Tan to use his dick like a joystick, and Tan is more than happy to jump into his lap.

Their relationship started from mutual punching, and their canon (implied) sex scene has them wrestling. Therefore, they are the roughest couple in bed. They absolutely have a mutual marking kink shown through hickies and flat-out bites. Some flavor of BDSM, though they (or any of the couples) aren't hardcore with it.

Aftercare game is strong with these two, and they preen at being the one to take care of the other with their mutual taking care of each other kink.

QTOEY

They have sex but in a very (demi)aro(demi)ace way if that makes sense? They have a code in their phone for when one of them is horny and it is "Draw me like one of your Thai boys" (Toey came up with it, Q couldn't think of anything better).

When they do have sex in their own private enclosure and not in Peem's childhood home, it is very artistic. Q has painted Toey's nudes (the only nudes of his boyfriend he has), and he hung it up in their bedroom (fortunately, they aren't the hangout house so they don't have to mad dash to hide it). Q has painted Toey's skin as foreplay, change my mind (you can't).

Before the nudes were painted, Q joked Toey should get dolled up for it and something inside Toey pinged. Since then, Q will teasingly call Teoy "doll" alongside his usual "muse". Their closet has a section dedicated to lingerie (honestly, most of the time they don't even fuck in them. Q just likes drawing and painting tasteful nudes of his boyfriend, and Toey likes being Q's model).

Regardless, the actual action is full of reverence and body worship and Q insists on fucking Toey in natural light because it makes him look more gorgeous than he already is. They have the weakest aftercare game, but considering the couples they're up against it isn't a surprise. Most points are deducted for Q vowing to never paint Toey again as he scrubs his boyfriend's skin. Toey giggles knowing he'll convince Q otherwise.

PHUMPEEM

It doesn't matter what the novel/series says, Phum is a bottom. He wants to be in Peem's lap and monopolize all his attention. Riding is his favorite sex position. The man wants to be railed by his hot artist boyfriend, and can we blame him? (Peem really likes it when Phum is on his back because Phum's hair is a national treasure.)

They do have some pet play going on. It isn't super hardcore, but it is there. After all, Peem canonically calls Phum "puppy" and I think Phum should get to call Peem "kitten" (turnabout is fair play).

There is a reason I placed PhumPeem's section after QToey, and it is because Phum was the person Toey asked to go lingerie shopping with him (lets be real, Toey is not going on his own the first time and Phum is the least embarrassing option). Phum comes home with a few things of his own, and Peem is relentless with the pillow princess teasing as he rails his boyfriend.

PhumPeem are tied with TanFang on best aftercare game, because both couples have a mutual taking care of each other kink.

Oh, right, they have sex on the beach at some point. Also, they are known for fucking in any body of water they can (which wasn't what Peem meant by the water being his safe place, but he's not arguing).

CHAINPUN

They are the kinkiest couple here.

They may not be the most consistently kinky, but they are the most varied. All Pun has to do is bat his eyelashes at Chain, and Chain will indulge Pun in his latest fantasy. Out of all of them, they are the most likely to commit to actual roleplay scenarios. The most often one, of course, being a doctor one (though Chain will make sure to remind Pun he isn't that type of doctor). It doesn't matter though because Pun finds him immensely sexy in the coat.

Although they do get up to roleplay, sometimes Chain wants to spend his time adoring Pun. The body worship is off the charts with these two, and Chain makes sure to love and worship every inch of Pun. Pun loves it, and preens under the adoration though Chain can be torturous in his foreplay.

Soft top Chain, but we all know that.

Honestly, there isn't a couple in We Are that doesn't go all out for aftercare. ChainPuns includes cuddling and snuggling under the covers, and Chain ensures Pun is fed.

[overrboarrd]

WHAT HURTS THE MOST [ from scratch series part ii ]

gif credits to @dejameflorecer for the roman gif!

a/n: surprise surprise! i had majority of this part done when i posted part one, but i had a busy week/weekend. but writing this lil mini series has been helping me out a lot so here’s to part two!

warnings: angst (forgot to put that in the last part, my bad.)

“what hurts the most was being so close”

and having so much to say, and watching you walk away”

Seeing Joe again after all this time felt like being punched in the gut. No, not just a punch—a full-body slam that left Camille breathless and aching. 

Her hands slowed as she wiped down the bench in the studio room. She could still see him there, broad and imposing, his dark eyes fixed on her with a mix of disbelief. Disappointment.

She sighed, leaning against the bench for a moment. What are the odds? she thought bitterly. She’d worked so hard to bury the past, to convince herself she’d made the right choice by walking away from him. And now here he was, larger than life and more infuriatingly impassive than ever.

He’s angry. And he has every right to be.

Her chest tightened at the memory.

┄┄┄┄┄

The roller-skating rink glimmered under the dim lights, the soft hues of blues, pinks, and purples casting an almost ethereal glow over the empty space. Camille laughed as she pushed off, her movements fluid and full of life. Her ease on skates contrasted sharply with Joe’s more cautious strides, his broad frame teetering awkwardly as he tried to keep up.

“You’re still so bad at this!” she teased, her laughter ringing out.

Joe grinned despite himself, his broad frame wobbling precariously as he tried to steady his footing. “Terrible? Nah. I’m just a risk-taker, baby,” he shot back, a flicker of pride slipping into his otherwise self-deprecating tone.

Camille spun on her skates, gliding backward with a mischievous smirk. Her deep curls framed her glowing face, and Joe couldn’t help but watch her, mesmerized. “Risk-taker? You mean like how you risk everybody’s ankles when you crash?”

“Hey, I’m just giving you a chance to one-up me,” he quipped, his eyes softening as they followed her every move. Camille’s joy was infectious—she had a way of lighting up even the darkest corners of his guarded soul.

The upbeat music transitioned, slowing into something achingly tender. Camille’s momentum faltered. She glanced toward Trinity and Jon seated off to the side, their warm smiles faintly shadowed by something unspoken. Her gaze flicked back to Joe, who had stopped skating, standing a few feet away, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

“Joe?” she asked, her voice dipping slightly as she turned back to him.

Joe took a deep breath, his nerves an unfamiliar weight pressing down on his chest. He wasn’t used to feeling unsteady—whether in the ring or in life. But tonight, Camille held all the power, and it both terrified and thrilled him.

“C’mere,” he said softly, reaching out his hand.

Her brows knit together, but she slid her hand into his, allowing him to lead her to the center of the rink. The glow of the lights seemed to close in around them, isolating them in a world of their own.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice tinged with both curiosity and suspicion.

Joe turned to face her fully, her hand still in his. They were warm, steady, even as his heart pounded like a drum. “Camille, I need you to listen to me for a second,” he began, his voice unusually soft.

Her teasing demeanor dissolved. She studied his face, reading the vulnerability etched into every line. “Okay…”

“You know I’m not great with words,” He began, his voice low and raw. “Saying how I feel. I’ve spent so much of my life just… holding it all in. But not with you. You make me want to try, Camille. You make me want to be better. For you.”

“Joe…” her chest tightening as he continued.

“You’re it for me,” he said, his gaze locking onto hers, fierce and unflinching. “You challenge me, you make me laugh, you make me feel alive in ways I didn’t think I could. I didn’t think I needed anyone until you walked into my life. Now, I don’t know how to live without you.”

Camille’s breath hitched as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small black box, her world suddenly tilting on its axis.

Joe dropped to one knee, his movement deliberate, the lights reflected in his dark, unwavering eyes. “Baby, you’ve been my strength, my peace, my reason to keep pushing forward. No matter how hard life has tested us, you’ve always been the one constant I could count on—the one who makes it all worth it.”

He paused, taking a steadying breath, as if summoning the courage for what came next. “I love you. I don’t want to spend a single moment of this life without you—I can’t imagine my future without you in it. You’re my heart, Camille. My home.”

His hand reached for hers, shaking ever so slightly. “ Will you marry me?”

Her lips parted, trembling, but no words came. The rink seemed to hold its breath. Even the soft music faded into nothingness as Camille stared at the man kneeling before her. Her heart screamed yes, yet a tide of doubt surged to the surface, threatening to pull her under.

“Joe… I…” The words broke, unfinished.

His smile faltered, the light in his eyes dimming as the pause stretched into eternity. “Cam?” he prompted, his voice laced with uncertainty.

Tears blurred her vision as she shook her head, taking an unsteady roll backwards. “I… I can’t.”

The space between them shattered, the fragile intimacy of the moment fracturing into jagged edges. Joe rose slowly, the small box still in his hand.

“What?” The words hit him like a freight train, his voice cracking as the weight of her rejection settled. 

“I’m not ready. I’m not… I’m not enough for this. For you.” Her mind raced with insecurities and fears she’d buried deep but never truly faced. Joe loved her—she knew that. But did she deserve his love? Could she live up to the kind of forever he wanted?

“Not enough?” He stared at her, his usually unshakable composure slipping as he stood still, stunned. “Camille, you’re everything to me. Why can't you see that?”

“Because I’m broken, Joe!” Her tears fell freely.  “Why would you want shattered glass as a fiance? As your wife? You’re asking for forever, and I— I don’t know how to give it to you without failing. Without ruining us. I don’t know how to be what you need.”

“You’re already what I need,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re all broken. You think I’m not? You think I don’t know fear? I know it every day. But I choose you, Camille. I’ll keep choosing you if you just let me.”

Her silence was deafening, her tears a silent answer.

“What more do you need?” Joe’s glistening eyes bore into hers. “Whatever it is, baby, tell me. Please.”

“What if I hurt you?” 

“You’re hurting me now,” he countered, his words cutting through the space between them like a blade.

She flinched, her lips pursing together to hold back a sob. “I love you, Joe. I do. But I—”

“Then marry me, Camille. Don’t walk away,” he pleaded, his voice breaking. “Stay. We’ll figure it out together.”

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice barely audible as she turned away. The sound of her skates on the rink floor echoed like a heartbeat, growing fainter with every step she took.

┄┄┄┄┄

Camille straightened, shaking her head sharply as if she could erase the thoughts crowding her mind. This wasn’t the time for second-guessing. She was a professional, and she had a job to do. But no matter how many times she repeated the mantra, it didn’t dull the ache in her chest when she thought of him.

Why did you agree to this? The question plagued her, looping in her mind. She could’ve said no—she should have said no. But when Ron had mentioned the severity of the injury and how the client needed someone capable, she couldn’t back out. Maybe she wanted to prove something: to Ron, to herself, and, if she was being honest, to Joe. Prove that she could be around him without falling apart.

But a small, treacherous part of her had hoped...

“No,” she muttered under her breath, cutting off the thought before it could fester. Hope was dangerous, and she couldn’t afford it—not here, not now.

The tension in her shoulders hadn’t eased by the time she opened the studio doors. Her phone buzzed on the table, breaking her musing.

Ron: Cam! How’ve the sessions with Joe been? He’s a tough one, huh?

She stared at the screen, the words blurring slightly. Tough didn’t even begin to cover it. But instead of pouring her heart out, she typed a clipped response:

Camille: They’ve been fine. We’ll see how the next one goes.

She tossed the phone aside, exhaling heavily. Fine. It was a lie, of course. There was nothing fine about working with the man she’d almost married. The man whose heart she’d broken because she’d been too scared to let herself be loved that deeply.

As she prepared for the session, she caught herself glancing at the clock too often, her pulse quickening as the minutes ticked closer.

┄┄

When Joe arrived, his presence filled the room, heavy and charged, just like every other session. The air between them was tight, crackling with unspoken words. His dark eyes met hers briefly—intense and unreadable—before he dropped his bag by the wall.

“Let’s get started,” she directed, forcing an even tone.

Like the sessions before, the work began in silence. Her instructions were precise, her demeanor professional. Joe followed her guidance without argument, though the grim set of his jaw spoke volumes.

“Raise your arm to shoulder height,” she instructed. “Hold it there for ten seconds.”

He complied, his brow furrowing with effort. His shoulder was healing, but the progress was slow. Pain etched lines into his face as he completed the exercise. He looked exhausted, and not just from the session.

“You’re not sleeping,” the observation slipped out before Camille could stop herself.

Joe’s head snapped toward her, his eyes narrowing. “I’m fine.”

She crossed her arms, her chin lifting slightly. “You don’t look fine.”

His laugh was sharp, bitter. “Didn’t know you were qualified to diagnose that now, too.”

The jab hit its mark, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she pressed on, her voice steady. “Joe, if you’re pushing yourself too hard or not addressing what’s weighing on you, it’ll impact your recovery.”

He rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her tone softening. “It’s more than just the injury, isn’t it?”

He let out another humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t get to play concerned now, Camille. You walked out on that privilege a long time ago.”

Camille took a breath, swallowing the sting of his words. “Maybe I don’t,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care. And this isn’t about the past,” she replied, her voice firmer now. “This is about your health. If you want to get back in the ring, you need to be honest with yourself.”

Joe ran a hand over his face, his frustration evident. For a long moment, he said nothing, the silence stretching between them. Then, with a heavy sigh, he finally spoke.

“They’re trying to make me relinquish my title,” he spat, not meeting her eyes. “I’m on the sidelines, and that’s all it takes for them to start thinking I’m done. Disposable.”

Her heart clenched at the bitterness in his voice. She knew how much his career meant to him, how hard he had worked to get where he was.

“That’s ridiculous,” the words tumbled out before she could stop them. “After everything you’ve done—”

“Doesn’t matter,” he cut in, his voice sharp. “They don’t care about what I’ve done. They care about results. And right now, I’m not giving them any.”

She hesitated, watching him carefully. Beneath the anger, she saw something else—fear. Vulnerability. She felt herself wanting to reach out, to offer him comfort, but she held herself back, knowing he wouldn’t accept it.

“Then prove them wrong,” she responded simply. “Focus on getting back to a hundred percent, and show them why they can’t afford to lose you.”

Joe’s gaze lingered on her, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“It is,” she admitted. “But if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

Joe looked at her, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Maybe.”

For a moment, the tension between them shifted, the edges softened. The rest of the session passed in near silence, but the air between them felt… different.  As he walked out the door, Camille found herself staring after him, her heart heavy with a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite place.

[thecameronchronicles]

Sunkissed

TW: mentions of self image issues. Angst. Heavy flirting.

SUMMARY: JJ reminds you just how beautiful he knows you are.

REQUESTED:

Anonymous Asked

Hey sooo glad ur back ☺️⭐️💗💛 idk if u take request but I love ur body positivity fics could u maybe write one with JJ and chubby reader ??☺️☺️:)))

Sunkissed

"Maybe you should just go without me..." You try to hide the disappointment in your own words but it weighs them beyond the attempt. Your eyes fall and yet JJ comes up behind you, lips on your shoulder as it worsens the tightness in your heart.

"Did you get too hot on the Pogue, princess?"

"No...I..."

"Do you need some water? Here..." He offers his and your chest tightens. Not once has your boyfriend ever made you question your worth in the curves of your figure. But being surrounded by those that are a stark contrast to that society claims you should be, you feel inadequate.

"What is it sweetheart?" He asks a hand to your waist as you shuffle away without drawing immediate attention. You pretend to need something from the cooler although the diversion only makes you feel worse when you look over your shoulder and see JJ setting his hand over his chest, a telltale sign his own anxiety was getting the best of him.

"Are you...happy?" You move quickly to him.

"You make me the happiest I've been been, JJ-"

"So if you aren't dumping me and you know I'm crazy about you, why are you acting so...distant?" He steps closer, taking your hands in his. The warm comfort, slightly calloused from the odd jobs to make ends meet, it makes you exhale in the remembrance he matters more than the thoughts in your head. It's the laughter of Sarah Cameron and Kiara Carrera that make you compare yourself again.

He slowly nods before taking your hand and leading you into the Chateau.

"JJ-"

"What is it? I wanna hear you say it."

"J-"

"Y/N. Tell me." You stand in his room, the one practically gifted to you and him by John B as you linger.

"I just...don't wanna be around them in my swimsuit."

"Good."

Your eyes water and your brows fall.

"I don't want you in your swimsuit around anyone else either. I don't want them to see how smooth and beautiful your skin is or the shape of your-" he bites his back teeth. "I have to constantly remind myself to be better for you because better is what you deserve, princess, but it takes everything I have to not either mark up your skin with my teeth and leave proof you belong to me or punch out the lights of any guy-or girl- that looks at what's mine."

"JJ..." You shake off the thought as you know his kindness has always been that. Kind. You worry being with you is a novelty. A kink even. And even if he's tender and rebellious, passionate and eager, you're worried it'll fade with either summer or the fade of interest.

"You wanna know something? I am not going to say I don't care about your body because honestly it makes me hard as hell. But what really makes me just..." He sighs, repressing something between desire and the need to prove, as he takes a step closer to you.

"What really makes me love you is that you look at me. Not through me. Not to judge me. You go along with all my jokes and pranks, you were there when everything with my dad-" he paused, you step closer when you see how it effects him.

"You know when to be strong and when to let me do that for you. You touch me and I feel like I can't control my hands...or my eyes- my mouth. I want you. I love you. But if I'm being completely honest, Y/N. What I want right now? Is you out of this swimsuit. You're right. You shouldn't wear it. Because it makes me fucking crazy and I'm already one day closer for being committed for it."

You stand in awe, his words poetic for someone who insists you read him the books he gets too bored to even try and crack open. You hate how he doesn't apply himself for what he's capable of and yet you set to prove it in how you support him everyday.

"JJ-"

"I mean it, sweetheart. I'll beg if I have to. But suit. Off." You swallow hard as he closes the door and you understand one thing as his eyes darken in lust.

Before him you were swallowed by the darkness of your insecurities. Being with JJ is like being beneath the sun. Touched and basking in its rays, you forget the worries outside of it. You are kissed by the sun, loved by it- by him. You feel the strength of his love in every touch and the confirmation of his desire by the hold of his eyes on you in any distance when you aren't in his arms.

There is no question of love. And for the days you cannot feel that for yourself, JJ reminds you every reason why you will.

One sunny kiss at a time.

MASTERLIST

[drarrily-we-row-along]

"Come on," Draco said, dragging Harry in the door by the lapels on his expensive suit jacket. He looked delectable and Draco wanted to drown in him.

Harry stumbled, collapsing against Draco, pressing him back against the wall in the hallway, "Mmrmph," he managed as Draco grabbed his face and kissed him hard.

His hands went straight to Harry's buttons, tugging them hard enough that the fabric bit into his fingers, stinging as he ripped Harry's shirt.

"Draco," he gasped, pulling back, something in his voice sounding vaguely concerned.

And he very much didn't want that. Draco dove into kissing him again, groping Harry's back, pressing their bodies more tightly together. He didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to think about it, didn't want anything but Harry-

"Draco," he repeated, pulling back again and catching Draco's hands. He pressed them back against the wall next to his head trapping him again but not in a sexy way. "Wait," he said, voice soft, and Draco's saw red.

"Don't," he growled. "Harry. Fucking don't," he spit, shaking his head and fighting against Harry's grip on his wrists. "Let me go."

"Hey," he said, achingly tender, and Draco would have punched him if he'd had his hands free. "Can we talk about that?"

"No," he said, "I don't fucking want to talk about it. I want you to fuck me until I can't think straight."

Harry tilted his head down, trying to get Draco to meet his eyes.

Draco was absolutely not having it, he didn't want to look at Harry, didn't want to feel like this. "If you're not going to fuck me, let me go and I'll go find someone who will," he threatened.

Harry sucked a breath through his teeth, "you don't mean that," he said.

He glared at him, hoped that his face conveyed all of the anger and vitriol he was feeling, "Don't tell me what I will or won't do," he said. "Don't pretend to control me. You don't."

His hands were released and Harry took a step back, his torn shirt hanging open, leaving the image of his heaving chest incredibly clear. "Fine," he said, stepping away and turning toward the living room. "You're right," he added over his shoulder, "I don't control you. But I do get to control me, and I don't like being used."

"I'm not trying to use you!" he exclaimed, storming after his boyfriend.

Harry made his way into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He took a long drink before he turned to look at Draco, "What were you trying to do then?"

He threw his arms in the air, "trying to get fucked!"

"In order to avoid talking about what happened at your parents'," Harry said.

"What does it even matter?" he exclaimed. "Why does it matter why I want you to fuck me into incoherency? Especially when it's something that you want too!"

"I just want to talk to you first," Harry said. "Is that too much to ask? To just have a little communication?"

He scowled, rage sitting high in his chest, "Yes. It is too much to ask, I don't want to fucking talk. I thought I was dating a man, not some fucking woman who feels the compulsive need to talk everything to death."

Harry flinched, "Too far," he growled.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he snarled, "Have I hurt your delicate feelings?" And he knew he was being an asshole, knew that he was lashing out, but he was so mad, absolutely raging and he couldn't seem to stop himself. He didn't want to stop; he wanted to fight, wanted to hurt.

"I'm not doing this," Harry said. "I'm not having a fight about this."

He stalked over and shoved Harry, both palms flat against his chest, "Fight with me!" he roared. "Yell at me, tell me I'm wrong," his fists hit Harry's chest. "Come on!"

"No," Harry said. "I'm not going to do that. I don't want to treat you that way."

A glass shattered behind him, Draco's magic swirling through him. "I'm leaving."

"Fine," Harry said, standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Fine," Draco snapped, stalking away from the other man and heading straight for the door. He summoned a bottle of whiskey and paused on their front step. He had half a mind to go to some club, find some random bloke to sleep with, someone who would really pound him. But decided that Pansy's was actually the place he should crash. She was always good for a fight.

-------------

Draco woke up the next morning, in Pansy's guest bed, with an awful hangover and an even worse feeling swirling in the pit of his gut. "Shit," he whispered, rubbing his face and trying not to panic.

"Hey, there," Pansy said from the doorway, tossing a hangover potion at his head.

He caught it and uncapped it, draining it and shuddering at the immediate effects. "I fucked up," he managed once most of the symptoms of the whiskey he'd consumed vanished and left only the guilt and shame behind.

She nodded, "I said that last night," she replied flippantly as she sat down next to him on the bed and handed him a cup of coffee. "And then we had a spectacular row about it."

Draco sipped his coffee, "I wanted to have a fight with him."

"Right, but he didn't."

He groaned as the words he'd said to Harry the night before flitted through his mind, "I was awful to him."

"Go home," she said.

He shook his head, "What if he's mad?"

"Then you'll get that fight you were so desperate for," she teased, bumping her shoulder against his.

"What if he's not?" he whispered, the thought somehow even more horrifying.

"Go home," she repeated, nudging him out of bed. "I've got company coming for brunch," she added.

He turned to look at her, "Thanks," he whispered, grateful beyond measure that she would fight with him when he needed an outlet without batting an eye.

"That's what best friends are for," she said with a wink. "Now go."

He trudged home, deciding to walk instead of apparate, trying to work out what he was going to say and mostly failing.

When he came in, Harry looked up from where he was sitting at their kitchen table. Unshaven, puffy red eyes, mouth turned down in a frown, his eyes flickered over Draco's body before meeting his gaze.

"I stayed with Pansy," Draco said softly, by way of apology.

Harry nodded, then looked away from Draco to stare out the window, taking a sip of coffee from his cup.

"I didn't sleep with someone else," he continued. Draco couldn't bring himself to walk closer, to come in out of the doorway, he wasn't entirely sure it would be welcome.

The other man winced but said nothing, didn't even nod.

"You're not going to even talk to me?"

"What would you like me to say?" Harry asked, turning his face to look at him, exhaustion written across it plain as day. "Do you want me to tell you that I stayed up all night, waiting for you to come home? Should I tell you that I thought about going out to all of our normal clubs to see if I could find you, but was too afraid that you'd come back and think that I'd left you?" he asked, running a hand through his hair, "Would you like me to tell you that my entire body felt like it was burning up with rage and jealousy but I couldn't-" he broke off and shook his head and looked down at the table. "I couldn't tell you, couldn't do anything with how angry I was because that isn't how I want to treat you. Is that what you want to hear?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

At that Harry looked up at him and Draco took a step closer.

"I'm sorry I said those things, I didn't mean them. I was just angry and I wanted to fight with you." He shook his head, "My parents, they just-" he broke off.

Harry reached for him, took Draco's hands in his and drew him in closer before pressing kisses to his knuckles, "I know," he said softly. "I was mad at them too, love. They had no right to speak to you that way."

Tears prickled the backs of his eyes as hurt and resentment build up in his throat and chest at the remembrance of their criticism.

"And I didn't want to hurt you more," he continued. "I didn't want to add to that burden." He tugged Draco down until he had him sitting cradled in his lap like Draco was a toddler instead of a twenty three year old. "I love you. I want to fight for you," he added and Draco buried his face in Harry's neck, his stubble scratching his temple and cheek.

"I love you," he whispered, the feeling so big, so present that it terrified him.

Harry turned his head to kiss Draco's temple, "I love you too. I want to honor you and be on your side."

He nodded, "I want that too," he confessed. "I just get afraid to let myself believe that you want to be on my side. What if I end up needing you?"

His lover chuckled softly, breath ghosting through Draco's hair, "It's a scary thought that maybe we weren't made to do life alone, isn't it?"

"I don't want to need you."

"Why?" he asked softly, hands brushing over Draco's back soothingly.

He held his breath for a long moment before saying, "if I start to need you and then you leave, what will I do?"

With a soft hum, Harry held him closer, "I hear that," he replied. "I'm scared to need you too, but it doesn't change the fact that I do. I could live without you, Draco," he said, "and you could live without me too. But I'd rather live with you," he continued. "I'd rather put in the work to live with you, to love you. My life is better with you in it."

"Mine too," he agreed.

Harry nodded, "Maybe we just take it one day at a time, maybe we just work on trusting that neither of us is going anywhere. Maybe you let me be on your side, and I let you be on mine."

"And then what?" he murmured, fear and hope warring in his heart.

"Then," Harry said, drawing him impossibly closer, "we just keep doing it for the rest of our lives, one day at a time."

--------------------

Read more of my fics

[idontknowreallywhy]

The Last of Them

Not quite sure what this is… it started as a little tribute to David Graham who, while maybe most famous for voicing Parker twice, also brought original Gordon to life.

Then it developed a life of its own and I’m not entirely sure what it became - by its very nature it refers to multiple major character deaths but they are all very old. So I hope it is ok. Maybe don’t read if you’re feeling fragile!

I put them in order of the VAs passing because that seemed right in the circumstances. Apologies if that means it is The Wrong Order for how you imagine it.

💛💛💛💛💛💛💙💚🧡❤️💛💛💛💛💛💛

He never expected to be The Last.

They’d all lived to a good age. They’d all achieved what they wanted to achieve.

But even Tracys didn’t live forever. And Gordon had not expected to be The Last.

Virgil had been first. He was never first at anything and this had been absolutely the last race Scott ever wanted to be beaten in. He took it as a personal affront that the universe seemed to want to run the curtain calls out of order.

Secretly, Gordon believed it had been a stroke of luck. In retrospect, he had been relieved. He knew his tender-hearted brother would have struggled the most at having to say goodbye to one of them and carry on. Gordon knew more than any of them, more than Scott, perhaps even than the man himself, how heavily Virgil carried the burden of attending Scott’s first (thankfully premature) funeral and that his darkest fears had always been centred on doing that again. Perhaps that had been why he’d refused the more experimental, increasingly desperate treatments Scott was lining up. He’d said he was happy, he was content and wanted to face the next adventure at home with his family, ALL of his family, not in a bubble in San Francisco.

Even now, when he closed his eyes, Gordon could still feel that last hand squeeze. Could still hear that rumbling voice telling him he’d done good today. He’d had his brother’s last little throwaway gift - a sketch of a grizzly bear with a squid clinging to its face - engraved at 5x scale on to a steel plate.

As time passed, the voice in his memory became younger, the eyebrows darker.

Scott himself had faltered, hard. But eventually, with the assistance of a horde of grandchildren and great grandchildren, had refocused and thrown himself into the role of patriarch that he’d been reluctant to embrace since Dad had passed. He’d lavished all his vast stores of energy on the subsequent generations as if determined they would know how much he cared before it was too late.

Scott hadn’t expected to outlive TinTin, John or Penny either. But the universe kept shuffling the deck of cards until Grandpa Scott finally gave his last cheeky salute and went to find them.

And then there were two. And Gordon was the oldest. Which had been weird, although expected.

Alan had always hated being the last.

When Gordon had poked his head around the door as the doctor left, his baby brother had been serious, staring out of the window. He’d swallowed and walked quietly over to his bedside but as soon as Gordon had been within reach Alan had turned and punched him in the shoulder and smirked that same irritating little brother smirk he’d smirked for over eight decades:

“Tag!”

Gordon had blamed the tears on tiny, weedy child-knuckles faintly bruising his broad, masculine shoulders.

Alan had just cackled.

Gordon had never expected to be The Last.

But so it had been.

Sometimes the media people dared him to reveal his secret. As if somehow he’d achieved something his brothers had not… As if they had missed a trick… he would look them dead in the eye and swear he’d spliced his DNA with a bowhead whale. At which point they’d usually smile awkwardly, check their notes for references to dementia then back away from the stupid, stupid questions.

He had never expected to be The Last, but as The Last, he had become all of them.

When four generations sat round and told stories of the Tracy family, he was the guardian of the old ones. The original ones. The ones they all knew but pretended not to notice him embellishing. How Scott was faster, Virgil stronger, John more all-knowing, Alan more daring every time the tales were retold.

To the world at large he was a kind of talisman. Whenever IR was mentioned in the media, it became Gordon’s image that was used. Despite having never been in command of either IR or TI, it was his comment people wanted. So he would give one, often irreverent or purely nonsensical and with the same wink his eldest brother had been famous for. It was genetic, after all.

He played unpredictable and eccentric old billionaire nearly as well as he played crazy sentimental Grandpa.

As long as they didn’t ask the stupid questions. He had spent a little while in the pool, gently washing off the lingering taint of today’s holo-interview appearance on some news show. He always did them when asked, the Tracys positive reputation enabled the family to do a lot of good on a global scale and cute old guy Gordon apparently helped. It wasn’t a lot to ask. Scott would have done it, so, therefore, did Gordon. And he would carry on, as long as he had all his marbles. And then maybe just a little longer… to wind them all up.

He sighed. However he might suggest that stricter pre-screening was going to be needed in future.

“So, Mr Tracy, how does it feel to be the last of the old guard?”

He’d swallowed the bitter “How do you think?” The questioner had looked about twelve, they had no idea. No idea how it stung. So he’d called it an honour. Then shifted quickly to the agreed script about their campaign to make Safety and First Aid a compulsory part of the school curriculum in many countries.

Yes, a little more consideration for the ancient squid-man’s lonely heart wouldn’t go amiss. EOS would sort it. He liked EOS. She still got his pop culture references and she hadn’t locked him out of anywhere for years.

His minder for the pool excursion - one of Scott’s great grandkids… or possibly John’s… he was beginning to lose track - patted him on the hand and left him tucked up warmly in a fluffy robe on a lounger to watch the sunset.

Goodness he was tired.

He yawned and wriggled a little, then smiled to himself at the sound of the kids coming out on to the deck arguing about something or other. Alan’s traditional shriek as Virgil yeeted him into the pool was followed swiftly by the combined laughter of the elder trio who claimed the loungers beside and behind Gordon. A count of five, then the littlest bro had his revenge by leaping atop Virgil and soaking him before stealing half of Gordon’s robe and the majority of his elbow room.

Too contented to really complain, Gordon slung an arm over the soggy teen and let his brothers’ voices surround him as he drifted off to sleep.

[coffee-and-tea-time]

ᯓও Wish I was your safe space…

Hi, coffee speaking! This is a comfort drabble about a kind of tsundere yandere and a reader who went non verbal, I'm not really used to writing tsun in yanderes but I think it ends up well.

Hello, there! Tea speaking! It's been a while, hasn't it? I've been a bit busy with college stuff and whatnot, I'll be sure to edit and make some more stuff once i have a break (I'm dying with all these assignments)

Tw: yandere behavior, swearing, somewhat willing reader, established relationship?, anxiety, nonverbal reader due to burnout, hints of safe food/drink, general comfort and fluff, it's a tsundere-yandere but protective so yeh…

"Why aren't you replying to my messages?"

You get surprised at the sight of those bright yellow eyes on you as he gets closer, his voice sounds like something between annoyed and worried. It also appears that he already managed to get a copy of your house keys

"..."

"Why aren't you saying anything to me? How can you manage to get hurt in the blink of my eye?"

You slightly shake your head, wondering what you could do to make him understand, your head goes a million thoughts per second, fearing to upset him due to being nonverbal at the moment, your breath quickens a bit… until a warm and tender touch on your check steals your attention.

"You don't seem like you have a fever or injuries, is this the 'battery' thing you told me about?"

You nod, relieved that he seems to understand what is going on. He then sits on the bed right beside you and holds you in a semi hug, as if you're gonna fly away or something.

"It's okay, you don't need to talk, you just need to be here and exist with me… I will stay right besides you, I won't let anything come in your way, you need a proper rest right now, I'm gonna make sure you take it and if you rather me not being here, then, sucks to be you, I will stay and make sure you don't die or something"

Despiste his words that make you kinda want to punch his stupid pretty face, it also feels nice to be cared for, although not with the best word choice, it's clear that he cares when you feel his hand shake a little as he holds you gently, he must've gotten worried and run here without missing a beat, it's almost sweet enough for you to forget to ask yourself how he got inside your home in the first place.

"I will order some of your favorites, lay down on bed while I go get some water for you, I'm not that dumb not to guess your schedule must be fucked up right now"

You were about to fight back but he gently pushed you down onto the bed again.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. you don't like being ordered around and bla bla bla but when you feel like the energy is drained out of your body, it means that you really are forced to have a rest"

You really can't fight back that logic, although part of your brain is worried about being a burden, you decide to let yourself indulge him for a bit as you watch him leave the room, probably going straight to the kitchen; Now that you think about it, he did say he would order some of your favorites, does he really already know your taste on food? Well, guess you will find out soon.

"Here, I got some water, the food will be here in about half an hour, it's good that I brought this with me before coming here"

As you put your gaze on him, you notice he's holding a glass of water in one hand and your favorite drink in the other, you instantly reach to grab it like a desperate dehydrated man in the desert who just found an oasis.

"Nope, not so fast, hun"

You return your focus on him as a frustrated frown appears on your face.

"First the water, then you can have your special drink"

Reluctantly, you drank the water since there's not really much of an option and you truly need that drink.

"Huh... It's weird and a relief that you didn't kick me for saying that or tried to grab the drink anyways, well done, honey"

You do a little happy huff as you grab your precious prize just as he sits beside you on the bed to quietly pat your back.

"You know? I'm aware this is close to a story you tell the police about rather that something romantic but, even if you find it unsettling, I want you to know that I care for you, even if it seems like it takes just a second for something to happen to you, I hope to be here every single time"

A feeling of a faint kiss meets your forehead.

"You're a disaster, but you're my disaster, dummy"

Even if you think of hitting him for saying that, a stupid smile creeps on your lips.

bzzzt

"Oh, that it's my phone, should be the food. we will eat first and then come back to cuddles"

He stands up and just when he is about to leave the room to go get the door.

"Oh, and don't think for a moment you will be free from me, I'm gonna make sure you get better"

That sounded more threatening than it needed to, but it didn't sound that bad…

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

Images from pinterest

[unholybacon355]

Everything stays in the family: Part Three

Park Jihyo x Huh Yunjin

Word Count: 4.2K

TW: Incest.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 4] [PART 5]

DISCLAIMER: I'm adding this disclaimer because I think it's necessary.

This story have some taboo themes like incesto to name one. I need to say that obviously some of the things I wrote here aren't good and by any means I'm trying to make it look like good and normal things. Read at your own discretion.

Everything you see here is fiction and many things in this story are not really good. This is for fun and only for that. Also, all the characters you see here are adults and Jihyo is older, but I'm not specifying how old she is.

Another thing to say is that I have no clue about how human bodies actually work, so you can't expect me to be very accurate about some things. I'm not saying what because I want you to figure it out as you read.

CHAPTER THREE

When Chaewon said that they wouldn't make it to Yunjin's car she was really right. They gave up on the idea after just taking a few steps in the hallway outside the classroom. Chaewon was too wet, and Yunjin was too hard to last until they reached another place. But luckily for them, they knew a place that they could use.

Yunjin came in, almost kicking the bathroom door, totally impatient. Behind her came Chaewon, who after checking that no one else was there, pounced on her girlfriend.

The place was a small bathroom, it only had two cubicles and a sink. It was located at the end of a hallway that wasn't normally frequented by many people. There were only two classrooms next door, and it was rare for both to be occupied at the same time. So it was quite unlikely that anyone would interrupt them here.

Chaewon hugged Yunjin by her neck and without wasting time began to kiss her with all the hunger that she had accumulated in the few minutes since they left class. Hunger that, to tell the truth, was quite great compared to the time that had passed since Yunjin began to move that intruding hand.

Yunjin didn't waste any time either and immediately grabbed her girlfriend by the butt. She loved the way her soft but firm cheeks felt when she squeezed them. They were small and round, and the tender flesh gave way to the slightest pressure from Yunjin's fingers. But it didn't matter what kind of punishment you gave to Chaewon's butt, because her buttocks were so firm that they only trembled for a few seconds before returning to their natural shape. And the tight shorts she was wearing did nothing but exalt all of her attributes.

“Get in the cubicle, they can still see us here. “Yunjin said with her orange hair all tangled from kissing her girlfriend.

“I bet that makes you harder.” Chaewon mocked, taking Yunjin's erection over her clothes. She gave her cock a few strokes before releasing it and going into one of the stalls. Yunjin obviously looked at her butt again when she turned around.

Chaewon had not only decided to wear the tightest shorts she had that day, but she was also wearing a small top. Frankly, it looked more like a big sports bra than a top. But since she was also wearing a croptop sweatshirt over the smaller garment, in the end she still had plenty of skin covered.

After also getting into the cubicle and closing the door, Yunjin gave her girlfriend a resounding spank. As expected, that perfect buttock hardly even jiggles. In response Chaewon turned and pushed the redhead against the stall door, then sat on the toilet.

“Come on, take it out. I can not wait any more." An impatient Chaewon hurried to her girlfriend who was clumsily unbuttoning her pants. The anticipation and the little space they had were playing tricks on her. When she was finally able to free her member from the oppression of her clothing, the erection jumped and punched Chaewon in the face. Who, far from feeling upset, smiled broadly. The brunette gave Yunjin's member a chaste kiss near the base, and then gave it a slow upward lick, until she reached the tip where of course the precum accumulated. Still without using her hands she played with her tongue over the throbbing head, collecting as much of Yunjin's natural lubricant as she could.

Yes. Chaewon might seem innocent and even a little stupid, but of course she was nothing like that. Of course she sometimes blurted out the most random thoughts that came into her head without warning, but that didn't mean she was stupid. And of course, her innocent, good-girl face (which in a way she was) didn't mean that she didn't lose her sanity when it came to making love to her girlfriend. Some might call that an incredible duality, but for Yunjin it was the multiple layers of personality you had to go through if you wanted to truly know Kim Chaewon.

“Ssshhhh be more quiet.” Yunjin, who now had her hands and back pressed against the door, scolded her girlfriend for sucking the head of her cock and making more noise than she should. “Remember that we are in a public bathroom.”

“Oh, I thought you were as horny as me.” Chaewon replied calmly, as she used one hand to pump Yunjin's cock. “Since you started touching me in the middle of classes, I thought you didn't care if we were discovered. Maybe we should stop” Now she violently jerked the cock in her hand.

Yunjin squirmed before she could say anything. "Sorry Sorry. Don't you see how hard you have me?”

"Yes, I see it." Chaewon now resumed her slower pace. “But I want to hear you say it.” The change of pace made Yunjin squirm again.

“My Fairy, I want you so bad. Please can you use that little pretty and slutty mouth of yours to suck my dick?”

The brunette's smile was wide as she heard her girlfriend dedicate those words to her. "Yes, I can." Then she put Yunjin's cock in her mouth, to the point where her lips collided with the hand that was holding the hard member at the base. The redhead could only squirm at the actions of her girlfriend, and contract her groin, in a desperate act to avoid coming. She had already provoked Chaewon, and if she didn't fuck her properly now she was going to be in serious trouble.

While Yunjin struggled to distract herself by reading the graffiti on the cubicle walls, Chaewon used her hand to masturbate the redhead's member, at the same time using her mouth to suck. In a truly impressive synchronicity, Chaewon sucked and moved her hand, maximizing her girlfriend's pleasure. “Don't you dare cum yet or I swear I won't let you touch me for a month.” The brunette issued the threat after taking the cock out of her mouth to catch a breath. “Or maybe two months.” Very calmly after adding that last part to the threat she swallowed Yunjin's member completely. Surprisingly, Chaewon didn't stop until her nose touched the redhead's abdomen, a pretty amazing feat considering the size of Chaewon's anatomy and Yunjin's cock.

Chaewon withdrew completely gasping for air, amidst renewed spasms from Yunjin. “You're making it difficult for me not to cum.” “I know, but you owe me for treating me like a piece of trash this morning.” Yunjin could see how her girlfriend sucked her index finger and filled it with saliva. That could only mean more problems for her. “Now relax.”

"No no. Wait… Aaannnnggghhh!!” Yunjin's words turned into a moan as Chaewon shoved a finger into her ass. The brunette was truly getting revenge, and Yunjin couldn't be more than happy that Chaewon didn't know what she had done that morning in the small bathroom at her house.

“Crybaby. I can take your cock in my ass.” That was true, but when Yunjin was fucking her from behind the idea was that she would cum, not that she would avoid reaching orgasm like the redhead was doing right now. To further Yunjin's bad luck, Chaewon completely swallowed her length again. Now the brunette was using her throat muscles to apply pressure to Yunjin's sore glans. How she did that was a complete mystery, but in the end it didn't matter because Yunjin couldn't think about it right now.

“Fairy I swear I'm so close.” Yunjin let out a pathetic moan as her girlfriend moved her finger inside her ass. “Please, I don't know how much longer I can take. Please." Yunjin really sounded pathetic begging to her girlfriend.

“Ask for it.” Yunjin clenched her fists, watching as Chaewon was now not only sucking the finger that she had inside her until recently, but also covering a second finger with saliva. Swallowing, she prepares herself to ask the question.

“Can I cum please? I swore to you that I'm at my limit."

Chaewon first responded by sticking both fingers into the redhead's ass before speaking. “Okay, you earned it. But you still have to fuck me after.” And without giving Yunjin time to say thank you, she once again completely swallowed the redhead's throbbing cock. Yunjin at this point was having trouble standing, as her knees felt quite weak. She was sure that if she wasn't leaning on the door she would have lost her balance by now.

Unable to hold on for another second, Yunjin exploded in her girlfriend's mouth. For the second time that day she came locked in a bathroom, she really hoped that wouldn't become a habit. While Yunjin was lost in her overwhelming orgasm, Chaewon managed to swallow all the cum that the redhead shot directly down her throat. In a truly admirable feat she practically swallowed the viscous liquid, all the while sucking to ensure that her girlfriend gave her every last drop.

Yunjin, who was afraid that the door was going to give way since she was pushing all her weight on it, closed her eyes and simply let Chaewon do whatever she wanted with her cock. She was happy because all this had served to get her mother out of her head, she no longer continued fantasizing about fucking Jihyo. At least not at the moment, which was great progress.

Chaewon removed her fingers from inside Yunjin at the same time she pulled her cock out of her mouth. The redhead almost collapsed right there at the wave of pleasure that the lack of fingers in her ass caused her. Chaewon was evidently very good at giving blowjobs and playing with her girlfriend's ass, to the point that Yunjin's strongest orgasms usually occurred when she let the brunette play with her prostate.

Chaewon stood up and without warning kissed her girlfriend. At first Yunjin was surprised, but she quickly let herself be carried away by the kiss and opened her mouth to welcome her girlfriend's tongue. The redhead could taste remnants of the salty taste of her own semen in Chaewon's mouth, and she was grateful that at least this time Chaewon had swallowed it all before kissing her. With a vigor regained by her dirty kiss Yunjin grabbed her girlfriend by her buttocks and pulled her towards her body, but Chaewon quickly pushed her away from her using her arms and breaking the kiss in the process. Yunjin frankly didn't understand what was happening, and the expression with which she looked at her girlfriend showed it.

“You're going to stain my shorts with your dirty cock.” Chaewon then slapped Yunjin's saliva-covered cock with her hand.

“Aauuchh! If you don't want them to get stained, take them off.” Yunjin had to admit that that little hit had made her hard again. Why did she always have to get so desperate when she had sex with Chaewon? “Plus I bet you're so wet you're going to stain them by yourself.” She scoffed trying to regain some of her dignity.

"It's not funny." Chaewon complained, starting to pull down her shorts, which was a more difficult task than it seems since it was quite tight. “By the way, you owe me a pair of panties. There is no way I will wear these again.” Yunjin could clearly see how soaked Chaewon's panties were once she finished taking off her shorts, having to take off her sneakers first because they were really tight. There was a huge wet spot on the brunette's crotch, the fabric was completely soaked and stuck to Chaewon's vulva lips. The white panties were soaked to the point where they were almost transparent.

“You act tough but you are so needy of me.” Yunjin scoffed again, as if she didn't know how wet Chaewon got for her.

"Hurry up. Sit down or my socks are going to get dirty.” As best they could, they moved inside the narrow cubicle so that Yunjin could sit on the toilet. Once she had removed her ruined panties, finally revealing a perfectly shaved vagina (Unlike Jihyo's) Chaewon sat on the redhead's legs, rubbing her soaked vagina against Yunjin's throbbing member. “Are you going to behave and fuck me? I deserve it."

“You talk like I have a choice.” Yunjin protested, about to let out another one of those pathetic moans, because feeling directly on her cock how wet Chaewon had gotten was wreaking havoc on her.

“No, you don't have a choice. So…” Chaewon stood up so she could line up Yunjin’s tip with her entrance. "Behave well." Chaewon might seem like a bitch at times, but the reality was that her attitude was part of the role play she had with Yunjin. They both loved each other and despite that apparent dispute for control during sex, they would never truly disrespect each other. Well, actually sometimes Chaewon went a little overboard, but it was Yunjin's fault for always being so pathetically needy of her girlfriend. That was always true.

Opening her mouth in a silent moan, Chaewon slowly lowered herself to rest her buttocks on Yunjin's thighs, impaling herself completely on her girlfriend's member. “Still amaze me how big you are.” The truth was that Yunjin didn't feel like her cock was really huge, and she suspected that Chaewon was actually quite tight. She could practically feel the brunette's inner walls struggling to adapt to the intrusion of her member, squeezing every inch of her throbbing flesh.

“Are you going to ride or what?” Yunjin grabbed her girlfriend's cheeks and forced her to move on top of her. Chaewon couldn't help but moan in response and cling to Yunjin's shoulders for some firmness. To silence her girlfriend's moans, which were reaching a worrying volume considering where they were, the redhead pressed her lips to hers in a deep and passionate kiss.

Now having Yunjin's mouth to muffle her own moans, Chaewon began to move her hips as she set the pace with which she rode her girlfriend. Yunjin understood the message and limited herself to kneading the perfect round buttocks of her girlfriend, moving one of her fingers towards the brunette's rear entrance.

“Mmnnhhhhh” Yunjin was sure that she could interpret the sound Chaewon had made in her mouth as “Don't you dare” so she moved her finger away from her. She knew that if she dared to try to stick a finger up her ass without properly preparing her, Chaewon would bite off her cock. Well, maybe it would be two bites just to make her suffer more. In her place Yunjin pulled up her top, freeing her girlfriend's perfect tits, and confirming that the top was in fact nothing more than a big bra.

Chaewon's tits were round and perfect, like her butt. They only bounces once after being released, but were quickly attacked by Yunjin's hands. If she couldn't play with her girlfriend's ass, at least she was going to have fun with her tits. Which in the end was a very bad idea.

Feeling Chaewon's hard nipples between her fingers inevitably led her to think about Jihyo's tits and their obvious size difference. Yunjin quickly felt a knot in her stomach again, which had nothing to do with having her cock deep inside her girlfriend's vagina. If not, it was rather her fault for thinking about her stepmother at a time like this. But for her it was inevitable right now not to notice the differences between Jihyo and Chaewon's bodies.

She knew what she was doing was sick, but she let herself go and as she kneaded Chaewon's small tits she wondered if they would ever be full of milk. If it would be easy to squeeze her nipples and make the liquid flow. She also wondered if her mother's vagina felt as tight as her girlfriend's, because right now it seemed like Chaewon was strangling her with her internal muscles. The brunette's walls were clenched tightly around her aching member.

She was almost sure that Jihyo's pussy could take her much easier, almost making her cock feel small. From what she had seen, her mother's petals and entrance were much larger than her girlfriend's, so there was no doubt that Jihyo could take much more. God, she was sure fucking Jihyo must feel like heaven.

Feeling like shit inside, but also with her cock ready to explode, she broke the kiss and looked Chaewon straight in the eyes. “I need you to be quiet now or they could listen us.” Then without giving Chaewon time to ask what was happening, she grabbed her girlfriend by the buttocks and summoning a till now unknown strength she stood up with her girlfriend in her arms. The brunette instinctively crossed her legs behind Yunjin's hips, to help support her own weight. The result was that Yunjin was now standing pressing her girlfriend against the cubicle’s door, while Chaewon struggled to maintain her composure now that the redhead's cock was pounding deeper into her than it ever had been into her.

“No.. No.. I caa…” Yunjin growled in an almost animalistic way before silencing her girlfriend again with a kiss. This time however she was hungrier, more needy, as if she wanted to devour her girlfriend. The truth was that she felt hungry but for a different dish, and she could do nothing but use her imagination to try to satisfy her hunger. For the first time since they entered the bathroom Yunjin was taking control, and it was only to try to get her mother out of her head.

Yunjin knew that there was no way to compare Chaewon's and Jihyo's weight. She was sure that Jihyo was heavier, and also the woman was carrying a baby inside her, so there was no way she could fuck her like this. Just as they were, locked in a university bathroom pressing her girlfriend against the door of a cubicle, she could only fuck Chaewon. So she clung to that idea to try to give the best to her girlfriend, and stop thinking about her mother.

With her balls swinging at the relentless pace with which he fucked Chaewon, Yunjin gave her everything she had. It was almost impossible for another drop of semen to come out of her that day, but that was not going to stop her from trying in an almost animalistic way to put her cock as deep inside her girlfriend's body as was humanly possible. Her thighs hurt from supporting the weight of both of them and from thrusting, her cock also hurt from how tight Chaewon had become. The brunette's orgasm was close, and Yunjin didn't know if she would be able to stop once she reached it.

Yunjin was hungry, very hungry. And as much as it pained her to admit it no matter how much she loved her girlfriend, the one she wanted to fuck right now was Jihyo. She knew that was wrong in every way possible, but that somehow turned her on more. It was something so forbidden that succumbing to the temptation felt so bad and good at the same time. It was something almost feral that she couldn't control, a seed that had settled in the back of her mind and was germinating in a matter of hours. Maybe it was the emotional vulnerability she was in right now, or that she had simply always been a pervert, but right now her cock was throbbing for Jihyo. Which didn't mean she wouldn't enjoy fucking Chaewon.

They broke the kiss because it was already difficult for them to breathe, so Chaeown hid her face in Yunjin's neck, pressing her lips together as much as she could to avoid making noise. Yunjin for her part pressed her forehead into the cubicle, and also using it as a point of support she quickened the pace of her thrusts. Chaewon couldn't take it anymore and reached orgasm screaming with her mouth closed. Her tight walls closed even more, squeezing her girlfriend's cock to the limit of causing her a little pain.

But having Chaewon literally shaking in her arms from having reached an orgasm didn't stop Yunjin. She continued pumping her hips as deep as possible, lost in the cloud of lust. Looking for an orgasm that she knew she would arrive without a drop of semen, and that would do little to satisfy the hunger he felt.

Yunjin only lessened the intensity when Chaewon couldn't take it anymore and started patting the back of her neck, asking her to stop. Because if she had to use her mouth she was going to let out a moan that would be heard throughout the university. Yunjin then realized what she was doing and she stopped dead, buried balls deep in her girlfriend. They were both breathing heavily and were sweaty from all the effort they had just made.

Suddenly Yunjin remembered that she was not that strong, in addition to the fact that the adrenaline of the moment was leaving her, and her legs began to shake. Chaewon certainly wasn't heavy at all, but it wasn't like the redhead was a great athlete either. So they both collapsed onto the toilet, making a thud as they fell. Besides, Chaewon screamed because with their fall, Yunjin's cock had been buried to almost impossible limits inside her tired pussy.

Almost instantly, hurried footsteps were heard in the hallway outside the bathroom. It was obvious that the noise had reached the classrooms and now someone had come out to see what was happening. “Quickly, grab my sneakers.” Chaewon say quickly. "Fast." She rushed Yunjin in the face of her girlfriend's lack of reaction.

Just as the door was opening Chaewon contorted herself to pick up her sneakers and throw them into the toilet pond. Although they were inside a cubicle, the lower part of the walls was open, so from the outside it could easily be seen if there was more than one person inside.

“Everything is fine in there?” Someone asked from outside the cubicle. Chaewon, who had propped her feet on the wall so as not to be discovered, gestured for Yunjin to respond.

“Y… Yes, everything is fine. “I just feel a little sick.”

"Need help?" The stranger asked again.

"No thanks, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You sound a little agitated.” Chaewon rolled her eyes at the stranger's insistence and decided to take matters into her own hands. Partly also because she was already becoming quite uncomfortable with the position they were in. The brunette put her hand to her mouth and used it to make a loud noise of flatulence, but not just one but it made it seem as if Yunjin was leaving her guts in that bathroom.

“I.. I'm sorry.” The redhead apologized, making faces at her girlfriend to make her stop. “I think I ate something bad, but I'll be fine.” She had to keep raising her voice as she spoke because Chaewon didn't stop with the noises she was making.

“Ok, I'll leave you then.“ Both girls could hear, with some difficulty because of Chaewon's noises, how the person left and closed the bathroom door.

“You can stop now, they're already gone.” But Chaewon continued making noises for a few more seconds, then gave a small giggle. “I hope they don't see me leave or my reputation will be ruined.”

“I didn't know you had a reputation to take care of.” Chaewon laughed again. “Besides, that is better than being discovered and expelled from university.”

“Because of you I'm going to be an outcast.”

“Even better, so you only have time for me.” Chaewon rested her arms on her girlfriend's shoulders, and looked straight into her eyes with that blank expression she sometimes had. As if there was nothing else on her mind at that moment.

“Okay, but you better get off. We have to get out of here before class ends or they're really going to discover us.” With some difficulty, and grimacing a lot at how sore her vagina was, Chaewon managed to stand up.

“Give me your boxers.” Chaewon looked downright amused at that moment. She still had her bra up, so her tits were still visible. In addition to being completely naked down, except for her socks. But the funniest thing was that she had her arms on her hips, and she was looking at her girlfriend very seriously.

"But why? Did I fuck you so well that you lost your mind?” Yunjin raised her ego a little with that joke.

“My panties are ruined, I will never wear them again.” Chaewon responded by pulling down her bra. “And if I wear the shorts like that, everything will be marked, plus it will get stained. My vagina is still soaked, everyone could see my lips eating the fabric. Is that what you want?”

“So what am I going to wear?” Yunjin asked, but she was already starting to take off her underwear.

“You should have thought about that before provoking me in class.” The brunette stretched out her hand, rushing her girlfriend. “Hurry up, I don't want to have to throw away my socks too. Besides, we have to go to my house, you still owe me an explanation” Frankly, Chaewon wasn't going to let Yunjin get away with anything that day.