#funny how I can fuck it all up on a whim

[caliboron]

oof. I just relapsed pretty badly

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

considering the bad end au is about a sadistic god(dess) black and red eyed version of sonic (self proclaimed at least) who has been torturing the sonic cast (both intentionally and bc she’s extremely bad at trying to be nice) does that make it a .exe fic

[sidesteppostinghours]

guys i made a mistake.

[toovaeloe]

curse biologist!reader x assistant!gojo hc’s

content: gojo pining off his ass . little flirty lab partners . tw for sliiighhtest mention of an autopsy and related tools . warning for gojo poppin’ a stiff one in the lab cause he’s a freak like that (ur a freak like that), so mildly suggestive

mdni

curse biologist!reader— the higher ups want you dead and gone, that’s for sure. You, who has a cursed technique that turns cursed energy into something tangible. After applying your technique to a cursed spirit, it becomes visible to a naked human eye, and instead of disintegrating, leaves a corpse behind. You’re dangerous. Crazy. And well…too weird. But they just hate progress, don’t they?

Not Gojo. He really doesn’t think you’re doing any harm to be honest (and he’ll do just about anything if it creases another wrinkle into Gakuganji’s ugly mug)

I mean, who else has been able to make waves in the integration of curses into science like you have? You’ve uncovered an exponential amount about the inner workings of curses in a few years when the rest of Jujutsu society’s had centuries, only to scratch the surface. It’s really admirable how you deep dive into the nitty gritty, as he calls it.

assistant!gojo— who loves being your little go-getter. Your own personal cursed spirit Fetch-Fido— maybe if you squint hard enough you’ll be able to see floppy ears perked to attention in his snowy hair or an eager tail whipping up a hurricane behind him as he brings you back his latest catch: a detained grade 2 curse manifested by the fear of monsters under the bed. Yeah, he knew you’d like something like that.

assistant!gojo— loves witnessing the way your eyes light up and it’s as if he can see the cogs immediately gearing to life in your smart little brain. He’s saluting exaggeratedly with a puffed out chest when you give him the go ahead to kill the thing after you’ve had your hand at it. It’s all he can do not to ask for a pat on the head and praise of how well he did. Getting a “Good boy,” out of you is on his mental vision board.

assistant!gojo— sticks around for the autopsies. Likes watching you poke around inside the creatures and is waiting on your hand and foot through the entire process. Scalpel? Bone saw? Enterotomy scissors? The bread knife??? He’s even starting to become attuned to your whims, tool already in hand before you extend your palm.

If you murmured an awed, “look at thaaat,” he’s quick to huddle in close under the pretense of observing whatever oddity that’s intrigued you. Only to squish his cheek against yours with a feigned, “hmm…mhmm…” nodding stiltedly, and not so discreetly nuzzling his face closer to yours with an impish glint in those azure eyes as he casts a sidelong glance to your skeptical neutrality.

assistant!gojo— staring at you with the widest puppy dog eyes as you discard your gloves and begin sketching diagrams of the latest brain you’ve picked apart, comparing it to the contradicting one of another curse, and contrasting from the drastically different human model you have. He can listen to you babble for hours, if only absorbing every other word of your theories on why a curse’s blood runs violet or how you’re so excited to get these samples to the lab. He’ll still chip in with his own question or hypothesis from time to time, because he’s curious too, but more than that he loves the way you answer.

assistant!gojo— purposely uses candy and sweets as a metaphor whenever you plead with him to explain how he views the electromagnetic spectrum through those eyes of his, just because he thinks it’s funny how desperate you are to know. To this day you can’t decode however the fuck that analogy about laffy taffy and rock candy was supposed to relate to infrared waves.

assistant!gojo— Satoru can’t decide what’s worse; the fact that he can’t get you out of his head or the fact that you want inside of his head

This whole situation is basically him giving you googoo eyes and kissy faces as you scribble down something on your clipboard and try to stick him with a needle

assistant!gojo— who’s willing to be a bit of a lab rat for you. He’s all giggles as he prances up to your vertical operation table, huffing lightly when you strap him against the cool steel. “Don’t be shy now, y’could go tighter than that. You know I like it when you tie me up,,” he encourages oh so unhelpfully.

assistant!gojo— chiding you to be careful when you begin application of the biosensors across his chest, cause he’ll get “a little too excited.” You don’t pay mind to his little quip until you see his already irregularly R-R intervals spike impossibly short on the electrocardiogram readings. And then again as you finish hooking him up to the machine.

assistant!gojo— thinks you might be overthinking what environmental stimuli might have caused that anomaly, or maybe judging by that poorly veiled smile and half-hearted “My mistake,” you’ve purposefully placed that one sensor node a little too low on his pelvis this time. Now that he’s thinkin’ about— yeah—there definitely wasn’t any need for you crouch so low until your nose was practically level with the apex of his thigh. Or for you to look up at him in a way that had him failing to suppress a shiver and his breath hitching when you smoothly rubbed the padding of the damn thing into his hip with your thumb. Aaaand fuck, he’s bricked in the lab. (again.)

He’d kill to know what’s going on in your noggin. And frankly he’s dying to get the pants off his fave smartypants.

a/n: as soon as I got this idea i was like ooo biting my lip and bigbig smile,, onto something? am I onto something??? would anybody maybemaybe read a one shot with this concept 👀? okay I love you byyyee

[sincerelyneo]

so high school | l.hc

“no one’s ever had me. not like you…”

📀now playing: so high school by taylor swift

❯ summary: Hyuck doesn’t care that high school was years ago; after learning his girlfriend’s experience was shitty, he’s determined to rewrite it for you. After all, he’s nothing if not smitten.

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, fluff, eventual smut

❯ words: 6.4k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni, swearing, fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, lots of gendered female terms, slight begging, brief possessiveness and jealousy bc it’s me, a brief cheating accusation but it’s stupid, hyuck being a cute boyfriend for 6k words.

an: did someone say haechan lover boy smut for valentine’s day? (they didn’t, lol. i wrote this for me, i love men in love)

“I fucking loved high school,” Hyuck says, placing down his yearbook on the coffee table.

It had to be a few years old by now, stuffed at the back of one of your bookshelves. You’d found it while doing an annual declutter and handed it to him on a whim. Knowing your boyfriend, you figured he’d find it nostalgic, or funny, or both.

You glance at him from your spot on the couch, eyebrow arched. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shifts, sitting up straighter.

“You were on the football team, babe. Voted prom king, had good grades, and probably never had to eat lunch alone,” you list off, counting on your fingers for dramatic effect. “I’d be shocked if you did hate high school.”

He laughs with a shake of his head, sinking back further into the sofa. “Okay, fine, maybe I was a little... popular.”

You roll your eyes, but a laugh slips out before you can help it. “A little? I bet you walked through the hallways like you were the lead in a drama or something stupid like that.”

He nods. “Damn right. I was the shit.”

You scoff, tossing a pillow in his direction. He’s such a cocky bastard—but you love that about him.

“Jealous?” he shoots back, smirking.

You try to playfully roll your eyes, but instead, a small frown pulls at your lips. You know he’s just teasing, messing around, but memories of junior and senior year creep into your mind uninvited. You’d never been outright bullied, but high school wasn’t exactly a highlight reel for you. 

It was a blur of sitting in the back row, trying to make yourself small enough to avoid attention. Lunches alone in the library. No group of friends. No teenage dream. Dances you skipped, pretending you didn’t care when your chest ached from watching your classmates gush over photos the Monday after.

So yeah, you were a little jealous.

“Yes, actually,” you say finally, voice quieter. “High school sucked for me.”

His grin falters, posture straightening. “What?”

“I mean, it wasn’t all bad,” you rush to explain, suddenly self-conscious. “I got through it, you know? I just wasn’t... you.”

Hyuck leans back, studying you with a look you don’t see often on him—concern, worry. “What do you mean you weren’t me?”

“I wasn’t popular or cool or good at sports. I didn’t have a big friend group, and I definitely didn’t win prom queen…not that I even went.”

Hyuck doesn’t respond right away, and when you finally glance up, you find him staring at you with an expression you can’t quite place. There’s no teasing glint in his eyes, no cocky smile playing at his lips. He just looks... sad.

“Wait,” he says, his voice softer now. “You didn’t go to prom?”

You shrug. “Didn’t really have anyone to go with.”

He blinks at you like you just told him you spent your teenage years stranded on a deserted island, which for the likes of Hyuck, not attending prom was the justified equivalent. 

“Are you serious?”

“Hyuck, it’s not a big deal,” you say quickly, waving him off. “High school just wasn’t my thing.”

“Not a big deal?” he repeats. “Babe, prom is like... the peak of high school. It’s the one night everyone remembers forever. How did no one ask you? I can’t wrap my head around that.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the tightness in your chest. “Not everyone peaked in high school, Hyuck. Some of us just... took it for what it was: school.”

His expression softens even more, guilt creeping into his features as he scoots closer, his thigh brushing yours. “You know you deserved better than that, right?”

“Hyuck—”

“I mean it,” he says firmly, cupping your face in his hands. “If I’d been there, you would’ve been my prom queen. Hell, I’d have skipped the whole damn thing just to hang out with you if you didn’t wanna go.”

The honeyed warmth in his voice makes your throat tighten, and you hate how easily he can do this—take the ache of old memories and replace it with something softer, lighter. Something you almost want to believe.

“Too bad we didn’t meet until after high school,” you say, forcing a smile.

Hyuck falters—but only for a moment. His gaze lingers on you as if a thought is forming behind his dark eyes.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “Too bad.”

You don’t think anything of it when he pulls you into his chest, resting his chin on your head as the conversation drifts elsewhere. But later, when he’s holding you close and you’re half-asleep, Hyuck is still thinking. Planning.

Because Lee Donghyuck might not be able to rewrite your past, but he’s damn sure going to be the best part of your future—trust. 

Hyuck just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The coolest person he’d ever met—his girlfriend, his soulmate—hadn’t gotten to live the high school teenage dream. No prom, no stupid corsages, no dancing barefoot at the end of the night because the heels were too much. Nothing.

It didn’t make sense. You were too fucking beautiful to be treated as background noise by those losers. Hyuck remembers the day he met you—a fully grown man—and you made him a stuttering mess. He’s never asked Mark for flirting advice ever in his life, but fuck, he wasn’t about to miss his chance with you. 

How could they just disregard you?

He raked a hand through his hair, frustrated. How did no one ask you out? Were they blind? Or just stupid? What kind of idiot couldn’t see what he saw every day?

The thought of you sitting at home on prom night, like it didn’t matter, made his chest ache. He couldn’t picture it—because you were you, the type of person every cheesy teen movie was written about: beautiful, funny, and so damn perfect. And yet... those assholes in high school had somehow missed it.

And even though the sick, selfish, possessive side of him is so fucking grateful that he’s the only one that’s ever had you, and those assholes missed out, he still can’t help but obsess over it. He couldn’t change the past, no matter how much he wanted to, and that realization burned. 

Hyuck groans, tipping his head back. “I’m losing it,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

But he couldn’t let it go. And because he was Lee fucking Donghyuck, when something got under his skin, he acted on it. Which is why, two days later, he finds himself standing in the middle of a small-town gymnasium, arms crossed over his chest as he surveys the scene in front of him.

“Is this the best you can do?” he asks, unimpressed.

Mark, balancing precariously on a ladder while stringing up fairy lights, glares down at him. “Dude, shut the fuck up,” he snaps. “You gave us two days to put this together. Do you even know how hard it was to convince the principal? I had to name-drop you!” 

Hyuck ignores him, his eyes sweeping over the room again. Mark wasn’t wrong—he had given his friends next to no time to work with. But that didn’t stop him from wanting it to be perfect. You deserved perfect.

A cheap speaker sits on the ground, currently blasting some old prom playlist Mark had found online. The string lights slowly started taking shape, casting a soft glow across the gym. There is a table in the corner with a bowl of something pink and suspicious-looking, and a few chairs scattered around. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either.

Mark climbs down from the ladder, dusting his hands on his jeans. “I think it looks fine.”

“Fine?” Hyuck repeats, scoffing. “Mark, this is a high school prom. It’s supposed to be magical or whatever. This just looks like... a school event.”

“Because it is a school event,” Mark shoots back, rolling his eyes. “Look, man, if you wanted a five-star gala, maybe you shouldn’t have sprung this on me last minute.”

Hyuck sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t trying to be an ass, but he wanted, needed, to do this for you. You’d brushed off your high school experience like it was no big deal, but he could tell it meant something to you. Maybe not in a way you wanted to admit, but it was there.

And now it was his job—no, his mission—to fix it.

“Just... add more lights,” Hyuck says finally. “And maybe some balloons? Chenle, do we have balloons?”

Chenle, who was sweeping the floors, looked back with a shake of his head, scurrying off before he got caught in the crossfire. 

Mark groans. “Hyuck, if we add any more lights, the entire gym’s gonna blow a fuse. And no, we don’t have balloons. You’re lucky I even managed to get lights.”

Hyuck sighs again, running a hand through his hair. He had money, sure—that was the only reason he’d managed to rent out the gym on such short notice—but even he couldn’t buy time.

Still, as he looked around the gym, he felt a flicker of pride. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something. He’d move mountains for you if he had to. And if this half-assed prom was the closest he could get, then so be it.

Mark claps a hand on his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. “Hey,” he says, softer now. “She’s gonna love it, dude. Stop stressing out.”

Hyuck nods, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

Your boyfriend’s acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.

Hyuck’s always been a little odd—but that’s one of the things you love about him. The endless hobbies he picks up and abandons in a week like juggling, the random facts he collects from late-night YouTube rabbit holes, and his never-ending need to one-up his friends in bets and challenges. But this? This feels different. Like it’s more than some dumb dare or fleeting obsession.

For the past two days, he’s been unusually secretive. You’ve caught him whispering with Mark on the phone more than once, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush whenever you’d walk into the room. And then there was yesterday—when you brought coffee to his rehearsal. You barely stepped inside before the entire group went awkwardly silent, and Hyuck practically herded you back out the door. Hyuck, who usually couldn’t keep his hands off you in public and loved showing you off, suddenly turning shy…suspicious doesn’t even begin to cover it.

And let’s not forget the disappearing act last night. He came home late, shrugging off your questions with a grin and the vague excuse of “guy stuff.” Guy stuff. That was the moment you knew something was up.

And so, you’ve been sitting on the couch, stewing, waiting for him to get home from rehearsal. The seconds drag, and with each passing minute, your frustration builds. By the time you hear the jingle of his keys in the door, you’re ready to burst.

Hyuck stumbles in, his hair slightly mussed, a garment bag slung over his shoulder. He looks exhausted but excited, strange. He barely gets a foot inside before you’re on him.

“Are you cheating on me?”

His jaw drops, the grin on his face disappearing instantly, eyes blinking at you like you’ve just accused him of arson. You’d honestly prefer it if he had. “What?! No! Why would you even—what the fuck?”

“You’ve been acting so weird!” you snap, crossing your arms. “The sneaky phone calls, the late nights, the whispering, the weird excuses—guy stuff? Do you think I was born yesterday?”

That makes him laugh and you swear you see red. He thinks this is funny? You’ll show him funny. 

“If you wanted to break up with me, Hyuck, don’t insult me by sneaking around! Just—just tell me to my face!” Your voice wavers, hurt bubbling in your throat as you glare at him.

Hyuck’s expression softens instantly, his eyebrows furrowing. “Hey, hey, wait—babe, no. That’s not what’s happening here, I swear.”

You narrow your eyes, pointing at the garment bag. “Oh yeah? What’s that, then? Some outfit for your other girlfriend?”

His mouth drops open, and then he barks out a laugh, though he quickly smothers it when he sees your glare. “No! Oh my God, no. Look, just… this isn’t how I wanted to do this,” he pinches his temples “Could you just go upstairs and put this on, okay?” He holds the bag out to you, practically shoving it into your hands.

“Excuse me?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“Just—trust me, babe. Please. Go upstairs, put this on, and come back down when you’re ready.”

You stand there, staring at him like he’s lost his mind. Because he must have. “Hyuck, I am not—”

“Please,” he interrupts, his voice softer now. “Just this once. Do this for me. It’ll all make sense.”

His eyes meet yours, and for all the frustration boiling under your skin, you can’t ignore the quiet sincerity in his voice. Because even though his recent actions have been enough to make your paranoia spike, he’s still your Hyuck—and you trust your Hyuck.

With a sharp huff, you snatch the garment bag from his hands and stomp upstairs, slamming the bedroom door behind you before he can say another word. Your pulse is racing, irritation curling hot in your chest as you yank the zipper down and pull the dress out with more force than necessary.

It’s beautiful. And that pisses you off even more.

Who does he think he is? Sneaking around all week, ignoring you for days, then showing up with a pretty dress and expecting you to put it on without question?

Annoying. He’s so annoying.

Still scowling, you step into the dress, the silky fabric gliding over your skin like it was made for you, and knowing Hyuck he’d probably ask someone to do that for him. It fits perfectly, hugging every curve, and when you catch your reflection in the mirror, your anger stutters—just for a second. It’s beautiful. You look beautiful.

Damn it.

You swipe at your eyes before anything ridiculous like tears can form and square your shoulders. Fine. You’ll wear the dress. But you’re not going to let him off the hook so easily. Throwing the door open, you march downstairs, irritation simmering beneath the surface of your foundation. “Lee Donghyuck, you better—”

But you freeze.

Because he’s standing at the bottom of the steps in an equally beautiful suit, rocking on his heels, with a small, nervous smile playing on his lips. He’s holding a corsage in his hands—delicate flowers wrapped in silk, matching your dress perfectly.

And then, all at once, it clicks.

That fucking yearbook you found. The conversation that came after it. The sneaking around. The secrecy. 

Your breath catches in your throat, warmth creeping up your neck as a blush dusts his skin. He chews his lip, eyes flickering up to meet yours, and if you didn’t know him any better, you’d swear he was nervous.

Hyuck never gets nervous.

“Do you wanna rewrite prom with me?”

And just like that, you break.

Tears slip down your cheeks before you can stop them, and Hyuck’s smile falters just slightly as he steps forward, hand reaching out to you, as if he’s ready to catch you, to hold you close, if you were to fall. But you don’t fall. You just nod, because it feels impossible to do anything else.

How could you say no to him? How could you possibly deny the one person in the world who would do something like this for you—not because he had to, but because he wanted to, because he loves you to a point you never thought possible because he needs you to be happy.

“I love you,” you choke out through your happy tears, the words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them.

Hyuck’s worry shifts into something warmer, something softer. He steps closer, brushing his thumb gently against your cheek to wipe away the tear.

“Does that mean we’re not breaking up, then?” His voice is teasing, but there’s a tenderness underneath, a soft hope in his eyes that mirrors the love you just confessed.

Your heart skips a beat, and you nod through blurry eyes, a small smile breaking through. “Not even close.”

His face splits into the brightest grin you’ve ever seen, and before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you into his arms, rocking you side to side like he’s never going to let go. It’s overwhelming—the warmth of him, the scent of his cologne, the steady beat of his heart against your ear. And for once, you let yourself lean into it, let yourself feel just how much he loves you, because God, does he know how to show it.

“I love you too, you know,” he murmurs, voice quieter now, meant just for you. “Like, stupidly. Like, I’m gonna remind you every day until you’re sick of me, because I never want you to think I’m cheating on you ever again.”

You huff a laugh, sniffling. “I don’t think I could ever be sick of you.”

“Mm, we’ll see about that.” He pulls back just enough to look at you, taking in the glassiness in your eyes, the heat in your cheeks. Then, with a smirk, he presses the corsage into your hands. “Your favourite colour.”

“Now,” he says, stepping back and offering his arm, “if we don’t leave soon, Mark might actually rip my balls off.”

It takes you a second to register what he means, and when you glance past him, you see Mark leaning against his car, arms crossed, exuding pure suffering. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, but you know your Hyuck can be very convincing. 

“Are you two done?” Mark calls, exasperated. “Because I have better things to do than play chauffeur for your little rom-com tonight.”

“Liar!” Hyuck yells, dragging you toward the car. “If you weren’t here, you’d be playing video games with Chenle or something. Your life is boring and bitchless!”

Mark groans but doesn’t deny it.

“Wait! One more thing,” Hyuck gasps, stopping you just as you’re about to step into the car. Before you can question it, he’s already sprinting back inside. A few seconds later, he bursts through the door, holding up a letterman jacket that doesn’t match your old school’s colours, but his. 

And when he drapes it over your shoulders, his fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary, his gaze catches on his surname stitched across your back. His cheeks flush that familiar shade of pink, and for once, he’s the one left speechless.

You clutch your hands to the jacket, making sure it doesn’t fall off and you can’t stop smiling. Because even though he was just being a fouled-mouthed menace to his friend. He’s clearly only ever sweet and soft with you. Hyuck opens the car door for you and he slides in beside you, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s second nature, like they belong. You look down at your joined hands, his thumb stroking slow circles against your skin, and warmth blooms in your chest.

The corsage, the letterman, the chauffeur to prom. It’s silly. It’s cheesy. It’s the kind of thing you used to roll your eyes at in movies as a teenager. But right now, with him, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Because he’s rewriting how you feel about the cheesy stuff, giving you the giddy, reckless kind of love you never got to have. 

Letting his hand rest on your thigh, making you stifle your sighs as it slowly crept up your flesh. His touch is heedless and uncaring as if Mark wasn’t inches away in the front seat. It’s compulsive, carless, and so ridiculously juvenile—it’s so high school.

Which feels very on-brand as you pull up to an old brick building. Mark cuts the engine, allowing Hyuck to round the car and open your car door before holding your hand tight and walking you towards the football field.

So many memories flooded back to you as soon as he opened the gate that led to the field. Heels on the grass, on the sacred sanctuary you never had the chance to belong on. Suddenly you’re sixteen again and Hyuck leds you over to the bleachers, climbing up several rows before taking a seat and pulling you down next to him. 

"Are we trespassing right now?" you ask, slipping your arms into his letterman to ward off the winter chill. "I know you love me, but you don’t have to commit a crime for me."

Hyuck scoffs, a playful smirk on his lips. "Please, you know I wouldn’t think twice about committing a crime for you if you asked me to." He pauses, then adds, "But no, we’re not trespassing. This is my old high school, and since I'm such an outstanding alumni, I had some strings pulled. They left me the key for tonight."

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile. "So they did all this just for you, huh?"

“Don’t look at me like that, this is for us.”

"Uh-huh," you tease. "I must say, knowing how to ball in high school seems to have its perks. I was in the wrong clubs clearly. You’re basically the only person I know who managed to continue peaking after high school."

Hyuck’s smile falters, a flicker of something sad crossing his face. His eyes drift downward, and you catch that same troubled look he had when you found his yearbook—when he learned how different your high school experiences were. You don’t want him to feel like that, not when he’s trying so hard to fix it. But you don’t want him to fix it either, because as messed up as your teenage years were, they led you to him. No one’s ever had you. Not like him anyway. 

You slide your hand over his, squeezing gently as you move closer. “You didn’t have to do all this for me, you know?”

Hyuck chuckles, that flicker of sadness vanishing as quickly as it came. “Don’t say that. You haven’t even seen what I’ve got planned inside yet. I had all the boys stressed over fairy lights and balloons all week.”

Knowing how much effort he’s put in makes you smile, your fingers drifting up to trace the curve of his cheek. He’s so beautiful. So in love. So undeniably yours.

“I’m excited to see it,” you say. “But right now, I just want to be here. Is that okay? I never really got to hang out on the bleachers.”

“Will you yell at me if I say that a sick part of me loves that you never cheered for other guys playing football?”

You shake your head with a smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m just saying,” he continues, undeterred. “Yeah, I wanna kill those assholes for never inviting you to a game, for not taking you to prom. But I also love that I get to be the one to do it with you. Even if we’re adults.”

You bite your lip, feigning hesitation. “Well, I have some information I think you might like.”

Hyuck raises a brow. “Oh?”

“I always wanted to make out under the bleachers,” you admit, heat creeping up your neck. “Call me cliché, but when I was a freshman, I imagined having my first kiss with Lee Felix under there.”

His nose crinkles instantly. “I don’t know who that is, but I hate him.” Hyuck scoffs, but his hands are already sliding around your waist, pulling you closer. “Still… this night is about me making your fantasies come true. So fuck that guy and let me kiss you, baby.”

And you do—let his lips capture yours, kissing you until they’re swollen and puffy, until they mould perfectly to his, like they were always meant to. Until there’s no doubt that they, and you, belong to him.

Hyuck wastes no time, scooping you into his arms with ease, carrying you into the shadows beneath the rickety metal frame. And then his lips are on yours again—hungry, unrelenting. It’s everything you ever imagined. No—better. Because it’s him and you. 

His hand trails up your body as he presses you against one of the cold metal pillars, calloused fingers graze your thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Years of football have roughened his touch, but it’s the way he holds you—like he can’t get enough, like he never will—that really makes your breath hitch. And you almost want to laugh, because you’re pretty sure most people fuck after prom, not before it. But this is you and Hyuck. You’ve never played by the rules, never followed the scripted path. You never wanted to.

And that’s exactly why a soft, desperate “Please,” slips from your lips as his fingers venture higher, until they’re brushing against the hem of your panties.

“Cute,” he smiles and murmurs against your lips, grinning as his fingers slip beneath the fabric, his cool touch grazing your clit. You shiver, and it only makes him that more pleased—more proud. His other hand glides up your stomach, sneaking beneath your dress until he’s palming your breast, his thumb teasing over your nipple.

“You know…” he muses, voice dripping with amusement, “I paid good money for this dress. It’d be a shame to ruin it.”

“Please. You’d never buy me a dress you didn’t plan on ruining.”

Hyuck giggles, shaking his head, but before you can run that smart mouth of yours again, his finger slips so easily into your pussy, and you gasp, clinging to his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he breathes against your ear, voice thick with need. “I love that you know me so well.”

His fingers keep working you, desperate and wild—because if you know Hyuck so well, he knows you even better. Knows your body like it’s his to worship. And when he adds a second finger, stretching you open, pleasure floods through you so intensely your eyes flutter shut, your head tipping back as a moan catches in your throat.

But that won’t do.

Hyuck likes to watch you. Likes to see the way your lips part, the way your brows knit together, the way your pupils blow wide with nothing but him. He wants you to know—no, needs you to know—that he’s the one making you feel this good. That it’s his touch unravelling you, his name you should be thinking about, whimpering, crying out.

So the second your lashes flicker, his fingers slow, teasing, withholding. You whimper, forced to open your eyes again, hazy and weak—just the way he likes them—just the way he needs them to be before he picks up his pace.

He’s meticulous, careful—determined to make you cum right here, right now. If your fantasy was just to make out under the bleachers, Hyuck is going to take it further, push it past anything you ever imagined. He’s going to make you cum here, again and again, until this moment is burned into your memory. Until you can never think about high school, about this field, about these bleachers, without thinking about him. About the way he touched you. About the way he made it perfect. He always makes everything perfect. 

“Need you to cum all over my fingers, pretty girl. Come on,” he murmurs, pinching your clit as he tries to coax an orgasm out of you. And it doesn’t take long. The honeyed rasp of his voice, the relentless rhythm of his fingers, the way his eyes stay locked on yours—it’s all too much. You shatter around him with a high-pitched moan.

“Atta girl,” he breathes, watching you with nothing but admiration. “So fucking pretty when you cum for me.”

Your mind is fuzzy, his words melting into white noise as you come down from your high on shaky legs. If it weren’t for the pillar at your back, you’re certain you’d be a puddle on the floor. Hyuck holds you close, his hand stroking your hair as he murmurs soft praises against your ear—something about being so pretty, so good, so his. But all you can focus on is the growing bulge in his pants, the evidence of just how much he wants you. A bulge you put there. One you’re aching to take care of.

You start to drop to your knees, and he sucks in a breath, his eyes locked on yours.

“Stop,” he commands harshly, stepping back as if something’s shifted. It forces you to stand up straight again, confusion crossing your face.

“Don’t you want me to—”

“Oh, I fucking want you to, and you’re going to,” he growls. Then, he peels off his suit jacket and drapes it on the concrete floor between you two. “Now, you can get on your knees for me, Y/N,” he orders, his voice rough and commanding, but then it cracks, desperately. “Please.”

You lower yourself onto his suit jacket, kneeling before him, palms pressing firmly against his thighs. His erection is hard, straining through his suit pants, but he’s waited—waited until he knew you’d be most comfortable because that’s just who he is. 

“Look at you,” he says, running his thumb over your mouth. “Puffy lips parted and ready for me. Big fucking eyes, so innocent, so needy.”

“Only for you, Hyuck,” you breathe softly as you start undoing his belt and his jaw visibly ticks.

You’ve sucked his cock before—of course you have, and you love it. And still, he looks at you like it’s the first time, nostrils flaring, pupils dilated, as he drinks in every detail of your eagerness. He’s so hungry to feel you, to get lost in you—so feral.

Using his forefinger, he lifts your chin, forcing your chin and attention on him. “I know, baby. Only me. Always me.”

You run your tongue over your lower lip, and he tracks the entire thing, looking like some kind of predator.

“Take it out.”

You comply, dropping his pants to his ankles and tugging his boxer briefs down with them. His cock springs free, angry veins visible and the tip glistening. The sight of his straining cock right in front of you pulls this desperate sound from deep in his throat. He traces every inch of your face as if he plans to paint it soon, and you’d let him.

His palm glides over your head again, fingers weaving through your hair, cupping the back of your skull to keep you anchored in place. Rough and dominant—just how he likes it, and just how you crave it.

“I need to fuck your mouth, baby. Seeing you cum in my letterman has got me so damn hard. I need this pretty mouth,” he whimpers as his palm rests on your scalp. “You’re gonna let me do that aren’t you? Because you’re such a good fucking girl.”

You nod and squirm in anticipation, using the tip of your tongue to lick a path over his slit, savouring the salty taste from the bead of precum. His eyes instantly roll back and you grip his shaft with one hand and lick a path from root to tip.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Just like that,” he hisses between his teeth as his entire body vibrates.

You look up at him, fluttering your lashes over heavy eyes. Because the only thing Hyuck craves more than his own pleasure is the sight of yours. You round your lips, sucking him in slowly. Your head bobs as you work your tongue in sync with your lips, but he’s so big, a fact you’ll never get used to. He hits the back of your throat and you hold him there, swallowing around his tip, tears welling at the corners of your eyes as your throat tightens with a gentle choke.

"Fuck—" He lurches forward, one hand gripping the pillar for support while the other tugs at your hair, pulling you off him just long enough to catch your breath—because he's nothing if not considerate.

Hyuck runs his thumb by the corner of your eye, gathering the moisture that pooled there.

“I’m ruining your makeup,” he muses, lips curling into a smirk. “I had prom pictures planned.”

A blush creeps on your cheeks, “We don’t have to take them.”

“We’re taking them.” There’s no question in his tone. It’s simply a statement. A demand. “Then I’m keeping a copy in my wallet, so next time I’m on tour, fisting my cock, I can think about you. About this."

You nod, breath hitching. "O-okay."

"Okay." His thumb drags over your lip again, teasing until you part for him, wrapping around it. He presses down, tugging lightly. "So agreeable. So obedient. Aren’t you?"

"Yes," you breathe.

His smirk deepens. "Good. So you'll keep sucking my cock, won't you?"

You don’t even bother with words—too eager to please, too determined to finish what you started. Your fingers wrap around him, stroking once before you take him back into your mouth, sucking deep before pulling off with a lewd pop. Then you do it again, following his cues, giving him exactly what you know he loves. A slow flick of your tongue along the underside of his head, a firm squeeze as you cup his balls, and then you’re taking him to the back of your throat. His entire abdomen tenses. His breathing turns ragged.

"Fuck." His curse is sharp as he pulls back, just enough to look at you. "I’m gonna cum. You gonna let me cum in your mouth, baby?"

You nod eagerly, mascara streaking your cheeks, spit glistening at the corner of your lips. "Please, Hyuck."

His smirk is wicked. "Are you gonna be a good little girlfriend and swallow it all for me?"

You nod—far too enthusiastically.

"Good. Now, take a deep breath, baby—'cause it’s the last one you’re getting for a while."

He runs a gentle thumb over your cheekbone before guiding your head forward. Your lips part instinctively, wrapping around him as he sets the pace, fucking your mouth with a steady rhythm. His palms cover your ears, his hips roll with precision—nothing but pure pleasure as he chases his high. And you let him. You take it, let him use you because he’s done all of this for you tonight. Because he deserves his reward.

Truthfully, watching Hyuck unravel beneath you—knowing you’re the one making him this needy, this desperate to cum—is your own reward. Because seeing him lost in pure bliss is the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

Your fingernails dig into his skin, leaving faint crescents as he keeps his pace—steady, deliberate—but always mindful, always making sure you can breathe. He checks in with his eyes, just like you said—considerate.

You moan around his length, hips shifting instinctively, searching for friction. And of course, Hyuck notices. He always notices.

"Are you getting turned on from sucking me off, Y/N?" he taunts, through a tight restraint breath. "So wet, even after I already made you cum." He pulls out of your mouth, gaze dark. "Show me. Show me how wet sucking my cock has made you.”

Heat prickles your skin as you reach under your dress, the one he bought, and gather your arousal on two fingers. You bring them up, letting him see the proof, the evidence of just how much you want him.

“Fuck,” he growls, as deep brown eyes turn black as they lock on your fingers. “So fucking obedient.” 

Hyuck leans in, grasping your wrist before guiding your fingers into his mouth. His tongue flicks over the tips, slow and careful, savouring the taste—the proof of how badly he’s wrecked you. Of how much you like him, love him. 

He nods toward his cock, covered in your saliva, hard and twitching, ready to cum. "Make me cum, baby. Please."

You hold his eye contact, grip his cock, and bring your mouth back to cover him. He moans, head falling back, and you work his length with your mouth and hand, doing your best to take what you can’t handle. It doesn’t take long until his hips jerk in short, sloppy movements. His breath comes out in ragged gasps, moans soft but pitched, the sound of him unravelling.

“Y/N,” he cries out your name in a whimper of desperation. One hand finds yours, holding it tenderly, while the other braces on the pillar behind you. Then, he cums—hard.

He tries to keep his eyes locked on yours, because that’s his favourite part, but the sensation overwhelms him, and he has to shut them. Every muscle in his body tightens as hot, forceful pulses hit the back of your throat.

“So pretty like this,” he pants breathlessly. “Mouth full of my cum.” The pad of his thumb traces down the line of your throat. “You’re gonna swallow it, aren’t you?”

It’s not a question, and you don’t hesitate. You swallow all of him, but it’s not enough. You need more—need him inside of you.

“Fuck me, please, Hyuck.”

He shakes his head, a teasing smile tugging at his lips and then he laughs. He uses the hand he’s had entangled with yours to pull you up to your feet, steadying you gently. “I can’t. Not here.”

You pout, disappointed, your body aching for him. “Why not?”

His smile widens as he adjusts your dress, pulling the fabric down to cover you properly, the moment feeling suddenly too sweet considering he was just fucking your throat.

“Because,” he draws out playfully, “I planned a prom, and like all cheesy teenagers, I don’t plan to fuck you here.”

You quirk a brow, crossing your arms across your body. But before you can say anything, Hyuck fumbles with his suit jacket, dropping to the floor to search the pockets. His hands hover for a second before he pulls out a room key, holding it up like some kind of trophy.

You scoff with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Very cliché.”

He grins at you. “I think we have pictures to take.”

[mochinomnoms]

Thinking about how scary people find the "non-traditional" looking merfolk like the tweels and Azul only to remember the mermaids in Peter Pan were straight up trying to kill Wendy and now I'm chewing on the walls thinking about Azul or the Tweels saving Yuu from some mermaids who "were only trying to drown her <3". Just the idea of the "traditionally beautiful" mermaids actually being a lot more fucked up, despite the reputation they got from The Little Mermaid/Mermaid Princess. Or something, I'm rambling.

Imagine going to the beach with the octotrio, the twins specifically wanting to swim with you in the water. But they get distracted trying to drag a still human Azul into the water, pleading for him to turn into his merform too!

Eventually, they manage to drag a screaming Azul into the water, bubbles slowly dissipating as they take him further in. Imagine your surprise when a lovely, blonde mermaid and purple haired merman pop out almost immediately after.

They look harmless, especially compared to the twins and Azul. They look like an average reef merperson, like the Mermaid Princess. Their tails match their eyes, pink and violet, as they playfully splash you. It seems pretty harmless at first, they look pretty young after all, but then the merman starts pulling at your leg, asking you to join him in the water with a smile and lead-eye stare.

The mermaid swiped your sandals, swimming further into the water where you can't reach as she beckons you to come after her. Don't you want your shoes back? They get visibly annoyed when you don't follow into their whims, trying to hop away from the stone you're at and back to shore. That's when the mermaid starts to tug you by your bottoms, asking why you won't play with her. The merman starts to do the same, giggling at your panic-stricken face.

They're tearing the hem of your bottom as you struggle to get out of their grasp. Up until you slip on the slick rock and fall into the water. The two start to swim circles around you, now full on laughing, as they drag you further into the water by your feet.

“Relax, I just wanna see if humans really do get red when they drown, huh?”

The merman giggled as he replied to his companion, “Yeah! We only want to drown you a little bit, why so scared? Is it cause you might die? How funny!”

“Ha!” The mermaid cackled as she swam up to curl her tail around you, grabbing your face to stare you in the eyes as you started to lose consciousness.

“Yeah! Don't worry, I hear that dead humans float back up, so you'll get to go back home…soon…”

Horror fell over her pretty face as she looked behind your drowning form. The surrounding turned darker, colder, as a large black and purple tentacle slowly reached from behind you to pull you from her grasp. She and her friend both shrieked at the sight of a giant octomer curling his arms around you protectively, an inhuman hiss, followed by a growl, reverberating through Azul's chest. From behind him, two glowing teal morays giggled as Jade and Floyd both chased after the two merfolk who were now begging for mercy. After all, the twins were a good 3 feet larger than them.

Azul is cooing at you as he brings you back up to the surface, though you can hear the crunch of what sounds like ribs breaking, a shriek, and Floyd's unique cackle. You leave that knowledge behind you as you gasp for air upon breaching the surface. You're clutching at Azul like he's your lifeline, murmuring for him to not leave you. Which Azul agrees to.

The twins come back up a few minutes later, Jade digging something fleshy from his teeth while Floyd offers you a lock of purple hair, which still had a bit of scalp on it. You thanked him, but refused the hair, to which Floyd shrugged and tossed it behind him. The three of you spent the rest of your time in the shallow end of the water, three mermen curled protectively over you.

[toruro]

— ✧ the cake in the back

pairing. choi seungcheol x reader

description. cheol is a regular at your bakery, and it's all because his son loves the banana bread you make—at least that's what he tells himself. it also doesn't hurt that you're cute. and polite. and totally someone he'd like to fuck.

genre. smut, fluff

tags. rich dilf cheol, bakery owner reader, or4l (f receiving), car s3x, kitchen s3x, pet names (angel), cr3ampi3, aprons ... hehe

w/c. 3.8k+

a/n. IGNORE THE TITLE OKAY I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY. look i know it's corny and i literally am writing this on a whim but happy father's day

"soobin's not with you today?" your voice is cheery and gentle when you greet your regular.

mr. choi smiles and shakes his head. "shocking, i know," he laughs in that deep and velvety tone that has you bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet out of pure giddiness.

"a pleasant surprise," you reply, putting on some gloves as mr. choi approaches the counter. it's near closing, and it's around that time of day where people usually don't come in as much, so you've been alone and just cleaning up the space yourself. "what can i get you, mr. choi?"

the handsome man chuckles, flicking his wrist as he pushes some hair back, the reflective surface of his wrist watch (that you definitely don't want to know the price of because it might just make you pass out) glinting under your bakery's warm lights. "thought i told you to stop calling me that. seungcheol is much better considering ..." he searches for the words for a moment. "... we see each other so regularly," he concludes.

"i've got to maintain some level of professionalism, don't you agree, mr. choi?" you tease. "the regular, i'm assuming? two banana breads?"

"you already know it."

grinning, you nod and pull up a box. "how's soobin? i haven't seen him or you in a while. i'm starting to miss my favorite customer."

"i'm sure soobin would be flattered to hear that. he's doing well, i couldn't bring him today since he's got a swimming class this evening," seungcheol explains, pulling out his wallet that's donned in some brand name that looks so expensive you don't even know how to pronounce it. you move down the counter grab some of the bread which is on your far left, and he walks down on the other side to match you, keeping up the conversation.

"ah yes. he seems to be around that age to start learning. better now than never, honestly. my younger brother didn't learn until he was older and it did not seem easy," you say with a giggle, bringing out the tongs to grab two small loaves.

seungcheol nods in agreement. "that, and i'm planning on taking the two of us on a vacation spot in a few months ... not sure where yet, but soobin's been wanting to go to a beach location for ages," he tells you, and your heart swells.

the image of soobin and seungcheol, goofing around on a beach send a warm feeling through your body. it's also maybe an added plus that there's a flicker in your mind of what seungcheol would look like in nothing but swim trunks, skin shining from the water under the beaming sun, dark hair splayed across his forehead.

you wonder what he's hiding beneath that plain, beige t-shirt of his. his arms are somewhat exposed, and from just the little bit of muscle that peeks out and flexes when he moves around, you think you can safely assume he's got much more going on in the places where your eyes can't reach.

realizing he's still right in front of you, you blink down hard as an attempt to pull yourself back into reality, eyes flickering up at the handsome man in front of you.

"s-sounds fun," you say honestly, packing the bread and handing it to him over the counter. in this moment, seungcheol catches sight of the apron you've got on. it's light pink and hugs your figure so nicely, he can't help but comment on it.

"new apron, huh?"

shyly, you look down and nod. you hadn't expected him to notice. "uh, yeah. my employees got it for me as a birthday gift, actually."

seungcheol furrows his brows as he hands you his card so you can charge him. "it's cute. was your birthday, um, recent?"

you nod casually, tapping at your machine for a second before handing back his card, trying to ignore the way his comment first comment has your stomach flipping and flopping around. "yeah, it was a few days ago."

"i'm sorry, i didn't know," he says sincerely, causing you to frown.

"hey, don't worry about it. it's not something i expect my customers to know and—"

"let me treat you to something," seungcheol says abruptly, cutting you off mid-sentence. he realizes after that it's a bit rude, but something about the way you brush him off as just a customer makes him feel the need to prove you wrong.

"i—i'm sorry?" you ask, and for a moment seungcheol almost mistakes your confusion for apprehension, but then he drinks in the way you look up at him curiously, lips slightly parted, and he relaxes.

"you're closing soon, right? let me ... treat you to something," he repeats. "a coffee or something, if you don't mind."

"oh, i can't possibly impose like that, especially when you've got to pick up soobin and—"

"i wouldn't be offering if you were imposing. he's getting picked up by my friend anyways—his son and soobin are going to have a play date and stuff and—" he's rambling, seungcheol knows that, but he can't seem to care. "basically what i'm saying is you don't have to worry about that. seriously. wait—not that i'm forcing you. you can totally say no, i just ..." he sighs, "don't want you to say no because you think you'll be imposing. 'cause you won't be."

when you smile brightly up at him, eyes glittering and laugh cheery, a wave of relief washes over seungcheol. "i—thank you for the reassurance. i'd love to get coffee, but i do have around twenty more minutes before closing and i still have some stuff i need to clean up and i'm not sure if you—"

"i'll wait." he pauses, then adds, "and help."

you're a bit apprehensive at first—a customer helping you out with closing? but you're quick to learn that once cheol has his mind set on something, it isn't the easiest to pull him away from it—and right now cheol is determined to treat you, as he put it.

the next forty-five minutes is spent with you directing seungcheol around your bakery. he's a surprisingly fast learner and before you know it, all the pastries are loaded in the back, the dishes are cleaned, your floors are swept, and suddenly you find yourself outside of your shop with the doors locked, standing next to seungcheol who watches with you a clouded expression.

"thank you so much for the help," you say bashfully. "you're already taking me—" is it too soon to say he's taking you out? oh well, what's done is done. "—taking me out. isn't this a little too much?" you joke, wiggling your brows.

seungcheol chuckles and shakes his head, pulling his eyes out of his pocket and twirling around the chain around his fingers. fuck, he has really nice fingers—

seungcheol's voice interrupts your thoughts "do you have a car or—"

"i usually take the bus home," you explain, rocking back and forth on your feet. cheol frowns, but doesn't say anything. maybe he can fix that, but that's an thought for another time as he points at his suv, all black from top to bottom, with tinted windows and full black wheels.

there's a silence that envelopes the two of you when you slip into the passenger seat, placing your work bag on the floor. seungcheol is already in the driver's seat, key stuck in but not turning on the engine just yet.

you glance between the sight of your bakery out the window, and back at seungcheol who already has his gaze on you.

"you're going to have to be transparent with me for a second," seungcheol says seriously, locking eyes with you as you shift your body to face him. "and i want to make sure we're on the same page about ..." about whatever is going to go down.

you bite down on your lip, and even though cheol knows you're doing it absentmindedly, he can't help but feel his pants grow tighter at the way it puffs up when your teeth release it.

"i ... i think you know we're on the same page," you reply shyly, shifting a little in your seat to try and make up for the silence.

"you want this?" cheol clarifies, one eyebrow cocked up.

a feeling of pride swelters in his chest when you reply without hesitation, "i do." and then a bit more quietly, you add, "i, uh, have for a while."

now cheol usually likes to tread lightly; he doesn't want to mess around and is great at keeping his dick in his pants but there's just something about the way you look at him so cutely.

you look at him like you know all the nasty things he wants to do to you, and you bat your eyelashes like you don't care—like you'd let him. like you'd take every damn thing he gives you without a single word of complaint, and it's driving him crazy.

again, cheol is great at keeping his foot on the brake, but then you swipe your tongue over your bottom lip and suddenly he's slamming his feet on the accelerator.

wrapping one hand around your neck, he pulls you to smash his lips onto yours. it's a gentle kiss—tentative, as if you're both testing the waters. pressing against each other as your faces tilt, your hands find purchase in his hair when cheol laps at your bottom lip. that's where it all takes off.

the kiss turns from innocent and sweet to sloppy and fast within a matter of moments and suddenly you're grappling at his arms, his hands are searching for your tits, gripping at the flesh and before you know it, you're being thrown to the back.

seungcheol nearly slams your back down onto the seats, your loose shirt riding up your stomach in the process to reveal the lower half of your bra. "fuck," he mutters, low and under his breath in that raspy sort of way that has your clothes feeling too hot and your cunt too empty.

"seungcheol," you moan, unbuttoning your work pants and shoving them off your legs, along with your panties in one go, leaving your wet cunt open and bare. he doesn't take a moment to shuffle back and bring his face down to be level with your core, eyes looking up at you with some kind of mischievous glint that has your stomach churning.

with a bit of hesitance, he places a soft kiss over your clit, watching you carefully to see how you react. when you whine and arch your back against the leather seats, he figures that that reaction is good enough, and this time lets his tongue out, swiping it against the throbbing bad.

"sweet," he murmurs, lips moving down against your folds. the movement and vibrations send sparks through your core and up your spine, and you shudder at the feeling as one hand flies down to grip at his dark hair. "so fuckin' sweet," he repeats before diving his tongue back, swiping it up and down between your folds.

"ah-h-h, seungcheol—fuck," you whimper when he presses the wet muscle flat against your drooling hole, continue to circle around and tease you. fervently, cheol—to put it bluntly—makes out with your cunt. digging his face in between your legs, his nose brushes against your clit when he adjusts his neck to lap and suck against unexplored areas, leaving you mewling into your arm as you try and sit still for him.

there isn't much room in the back, and to be frank, your limbs are in an uncomfy position, and you can only imagine the strain cheol is feeling, bent over and legs in an awkward position when he holds your hips and pulls you closer so he can smother himself in your pussy. he doesn't seem to mind though, lifting his head every few moments to grin up at you with hazy eyes, glossy lips, and a drenched chin, off-handedly commenting something dirty about how nice you taste, how he could live between your legs, how you're driving him fucking insane.

it's the meticulous flicks of his tongue, the deep and guttural words that escape his honeyed lips, and the girth of his fingers when he finally plunges them into your warm cunt that bring you to your edge. it only takes a few rubs and curls against your aching walls before your shaking, crying out his name as you thrust upwards, holding his face down so you can grind against him.

and he whispers the words, "cum angel," so sweetly—a complete contrast to the way his tongue is scooping up all your arousal—and so you cum like you never have before.

fuck my life, you think to yourself as the waves of your orgasm finally hit you. cheol rides you through the high, and he does it good. so good, you're left breathless when he pulls away from your cunt with a dopey smile and feather light kisses all up your thigh and stomach, and then finally your lips.

"my place?" he asks, stroking your cheek gingerly as you blink up at him. and when you nod hazily, he pats you lightly, helping you back to the passenger seat before helping you slip on your panties and pants back on. this time, when cheol gets back into the driver's seat, he places one hand on the steering wheel, the other secure over your still quivering thigh. "relax angel," he murmurs, and you can't help but burn at the gentle words. this can't be the same man who ate you out like you were damn piece of cake just moments earlier.

the drive is quiet, but not uncomfortable. if anything, you're fucking enthralled. when he stops at a red light, cheol looks over at you and when your eyes meet you can't help but giggle together until you're cheeky, grinning mess by the time you pull up to his house.

parking in the lavish drive way, cheol tells you to hold on for a second, getting out of the car and making his way to your side, to open the door for you.

"i didn't know that this what you meant by coffee," you giggle, stumbling out next to him and letting him wrap an arm around your waist to help you up the steps to his house. it's a beautiful estate, really, but you aren't too focused on admiring the luxury right now—you're much more interested in what's to come between you and cheol.

and you're about to find out soon enough because as soon as he opens the door, lets you in, and closes it behind you, cheol's hands are all over you. with your eyes closed as you two engage in a hot mess of tongue and teeth and lips, your rocking back and forth in his arms, his legs leading to you to some place you're not really aware of until you feel something hard and cool press against your lower back.

"wear the apron," cheol tells you firmly when he pulls away, pressing you against his cold stone counter. you knit your eyebrows together in confusion, but let your bag that's still on your shoulder drop onto the counter, taking out your apron without hesitation.

it's now that you realize you're in his kitchen. if you weren't in such a ... intimate setting, you would have admired the design, the appliances—all of it. perhaps you'd even wonder what it's like to bake in here, cooking up soobin's favorite banana bread with cheol by your side and—you save those thoughts for another time.

"w-why?" you murmur in response to cheol's request, as you pull the apron out, pulling the pink strap over your head, tying it behind your back as the ache between your legs begins to creep up on you again. cheol's big hands find purchase on your hips again, holding down you down with a firm grip as he turns you around and pushes your back down.

"'cause," he grunts out, and you nearly moan when you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling and fabric rustling as he shoves his pants and boxers down. it hardly takes a second before his hands are at the hem of your own pants, yanking them down and giving you a moment so you can step out of them.

you wiggle your ass around for a second, turning to look back at cheol with pleading eyes and ask him to just fuck you already, but then he locks a hand under your jaw, cupping the underside of your face and pulling it up so your back arches into his touch. you can feel the angry, hard head of his cock prodding against the plush of your ass and the feeling of him brush against you has you whining.

"patience, angel," he coos, pressing his face next to the shell of your ear and placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head before easing his way through your folds. you can't even see him but you just know he's big—fat length rubbing up and down your folds as he coats himself in your arousal as you whisper incoherent pleas for more.

"cheolie ..." the nickname slips from your lips with out as much as a brainless thought but it has cheol's head rewiring.

"fuck, say that again," he demands, snaking the hand that's not holding your face down your back until it's gripping the cute little bow of your apron.

you hum as you feel him tugging at the fabric, jerking your body backwards and pushing your cunt harder against him, the fat tip brushing against your sensitive clit. "cheolie!" you mewl again, and you're really not expecting the way he jams his cock into you in one go. not that you're complaining of course.

'cause how could you complain when he's stretching you out so nicely? when his cock is so long it's already hitting kissing your cervix and hitting spots inside of you that you didn't even think were possible to reach? when he's so deep that his balls are pressed against your burning core and his pelvis is flush against your ass?

"you feel so good," cheol moans, and you squeeze around him even tighter when you hear the low, gruff words escape his lips. "this pussy was made for me, huh?" he breathes out with a chuckle, as he pulls out halfway before pulling the strings of the apron so your core meets him halfway, slamming his cock back into you.

"oh god," you moan loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try and swivel your hips against his for some added stimulation.

"gonna think abt this every time you wear this, won't you?" cheol grunts, twisting his fingers around the bow in the back so he hold onto it tighter.

the thought runs through your fucked out mind for a moment; you're gonna have to walk into work tomorrow, and if you're wearing the apron, you'll have to sit through the day knowing that you had cheol's cock buried inside of you under this same fabric—if you aren't wearing it, you'll have to come up with an excuse for your lovely employees as to why you're not wearing their precious gift.

which option you're going to go with, though, is swept from your mind when cheol sticks a finger into your mouth and presses down on your tongue as he fucks into you harder.

what a moment, you think. getting railed on the counter of a man who you always thought was out of reach. your insides feel like jelly as his fat cock runs against your walls, veins and curves pressing and dragging through you as heat envelopes you.

and as his thrusts increase in force, you start to realize that cheol is nothing if he is not relentless. just when you think you've whimpered his name so much you think you might lose your voice, he's ramming into you harder, punching the air right out of your lungs as broken moans and squeaks that have him losing his damn mind.

"what a fuckin' angel, creaming me cock so well," he praises, yanking you back and forth at an unforgiving pace to match his calculated thrusts. you feel like you're being thrown around in the best way possible, body throttling every time his hips crash against your ass and cause you to lurch forward and arch your back even more.

and as he goes on, the rub of his cock against you, the press of his balls against your clit, his hand in your mouth and pressing against your jaw—it's all so much and so fast and so good until you're shaking and thrashing in his hold.

"mmf—cheolie, wan' cum," you choke out when you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

"yeah? my pretty angel's gon' cum on my cock?"

"yeah-huh," you answer dazedly, body jerking back and forth as his hips snap more haphazardly now, but still hitting that one sweet spot that has your vision going bleary. "can i cum, cheolie?"

and you ask him so fucking sweetly, he can't hold it in anymore, dazedly grunting out something along the lines of, "yeah, angel, cum f'me," before he spills his hot seed inside of you. the sensation of his cum painting your walls white is the final thing you need before joining cheol with your own orgasm, clenching around him so tightly that it has him gripping down on your hips in a way that you know you'll have bruises tomorrow. not that you mind.

how could you, when you just had the most mind blowing orgasm of your life with the hottest guy you've ever met. as you twitch against him, cheol finally pulls himself out and you whimper lowly at the feeling of being empty even though you know you'd probably pass out if you had his dick in you any longer.

gently, cheol strokes your back and caresses the taught muscles, untying the apron that quite literally had you in a chokehold, letting it fall from your figure. "'m sorry," he murmurs into your neck, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, "was i too rough?"

"n-no," you say, face burning when you realize just how croaky and fucked your voice has become. cheol only laughs at you as you dig your face into your hands as you mumble bashfully, "it was ... great." you're slightly embarrassed, yes, but when you catch the look of endearment on cheol's face, you start to think twice.

as you both attempt to even out your breaths, cheol looks down at you panting against the counter, cum spilling out of your fluttering folds. vaguely, he wonders what you'll look like in a bikini in the bahamas. huh, he thinks, maybe he'll have to ask soobin if it's okay to bring an extra certain someone with them on their vacation this summer.

a/n. how i managed to get this out in one day i don't know. the cheol effect i guess. anyways, hope u enjoyed!

tags. @xcynthiaaa @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten (strikethrough could not be tagged)

[bambisnc]

          . . SYNC-LOVE

° ˖ ➴ i don't wanna play this stupid love game.

### . STARRING ⌢ OT4 ⋆ crack. fluff. + 0.8k // dating as a bet trope + slight implied angst + intentional lowercase ˖ ✧

🗨️ .. ⌞ XOXO ⌝ kep1ers discography is so fire dude + [m.list]

౨ৎ ˖ 유지민 — ❪ YU JIMIN ❫  

to be fair, karina is too level headed to be inherently okay playing with someone’s feelings and potentially hurting them really bad just “for funsies.” so she’d really need some good manipulation to convince her. but once she commits, you just know she’d go all out.

would do it in such a flawless way too; her strategy would first and foremost involve befriending you to gain your trust. only after she knows there’s no way you’d refuse her, would she start dropping hints of her being romantically “interested” in you.

there’s no room for error in her plan, after all. but then, she ends up getting too invested in you and your eyes, your smile, your flustered little giggles whenever she acts a little too bold.

there’s an actual moment where she can physically feel her entire being go, “oh, fuck.” and suddenly, she’s in too deep.

nothing she could do now would be able to justify her actions. while rina’s stewing, wondering if there’s anything, anything at all that she can do to protect you, one of her scumbag friends who urged her towards the bet probably beats her to it, letting info about it slip mid conversation. cue angst of the highest quality.

          ⋅ ˚ ଳ ₊ ‧ others utc

౨ৎ ˖ うちながえり — ❪ UCHINAGA AERI ❫  

when faced with the idea of the bet, giselle’s actions would solely depend on what’s at stake. only if the money or other perks offered are something she really can’t pass up on will she even consider agreeing.

if not, of course, it’s a flat out refusal. but (for the sake of plot) assuming she does agree to it, she’s being straight up with you from the get go. approaches you one day, and tells you all about the bet as diplomatically as she can.

my girl really don’t gaf, she’ll ask you to split profits for fake dating her for a couple months. even if by the end of it you don't end up dating, you'll at least have a new partner in crime so it's really a win win! ⋆

if you do end up catching feelings, she'll make so many references to your origin story, everyone around you would be sick of it. would call you the bonnie to her clyde ><

౨ৎ ˖ 김민정 — ❪ KIM MINJEONG ❫  

i’m thinking idiots to lovers, 10k, slow burn.

99% chance that her friends only said it because she's been crushing on you for a while now but refused to admit it. and for the bet, winter really tries hard. like, she really does. but her method of doing it is just … so odd that you’re just left confused about what’s going on. asks you out on a complete whim (like maybe 1 minute after agreeing to the bet), but she’s quite clumsy – embarrassed, even, about it.

she's totally unsure of how exactly to go about it – it’s rather endearing, really. so you end up saying yes. mostly only because she’s cute. and then she drags you on a couple awkward dates with her after which she decides to come clean because she feels too bad (also her heart can't really take how you're so ... perfect with her).

but lmfao by that time you've probably grown super fond of her so you just kiss her cheek and ask her if you can take her out on an actual, proper date. to make up for the whole bet thing, of course. no other reason! <3 

౨ৎ ˖ 宁艺卓 — ❪ NING YIZHUO ❫  

similar to winter, she tries her hardest (for the plot ><) and honestly it might have had the potential to work as well as karina’s save for the fact that her reputation ended up being her downfall.

she’s known for being goofy, funny and silly so you don’t really take it seriously when she pulls up with a whole ass bouquet, chocolates, love letters – any big romantic gesture, you name it, ready to serenade you. hence, the entire process of you actually agreeing to date her ends up being just so, so drawn out.

by the end of it you do somewhat catch feelings for real but ningning would be so shocked that at first she'd withdraw from you completely. ghost you for a little before you corner her against a wall or something and demand an explanation. at which point she'd realize that ... you're actually so cute like this? and ... why is her heart beating so fast right now? the judge's ruling is an obligatory happy ending with her impulsively kissing you to stop your rants about how she's such a hypocrite to chase after you and then run away the second you reciprocated.

handsomely bribes her friends to never bring up the bet because she can't afford losing you. <3 (you probably alr know though. she ain't discreet.)

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

[nebulaafterdark]

Dragonseeds (Pt. 2)

Summary: If any man can claim a dragon, what good is the blood of Old Valyria?

Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon(Cole)!Reader

18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, smut

Part 1

On the day Y/N Velaryon was born, King Viserys hosted a grand feast in her honor. On her twenty fifth name day, Rhaenyra sends similar gifts to King’s Landing, to feed the smallfolk. News which is ill received by her mother by law, Alicent.

“The King and Queen are missing, rest assured we are doing all we can to locate them, your Grace. Still someone must rule in their stead.” Ser Criston suggests, “a regent to guide us through their safe return.”

“A wise thought.” Alicent nods, “might I suggest myself?”

The members of the small council can hardly answer the dismissal of Rhaenyra’s claim by raising up a woman of their own.

The councilmen are inclined to believe they must first search of evidence of foul play. Though Ser Otto is not convinced. Pulling his daughter aside to scold her.

“These are the very same children who made themselves easy on the morning of her brother’s petition as heir of Driftmark. They are insolent and foolish but they do hold one thing dear and that is the other, and their children. They cannot see beyond their own desires.”

“You wished for Aegon to be king.” Alicent murmurs, “I’ve made him king.”

“I take full responsibility for my part in this, daughter.” Otto sighs, “knowing what I do now, it should have been Aemond upon the throne. He is closer in age to Rhaenyra’s daughter, he would not have been so pliable beneath her unyielding hands.”

“You could not have known for certain.”

“Everyone knew.” Otto admits. “To have Y/N is to have Aegon. He bends the knee to her and her whims because he…” loves her.

“Aemond might’ve fallen prey to her charms all the same. Y/N is not cold, calculated or cunning. She is only a girl, desperate to win her mother’s affection by any means necessary.” Alicent knows the role well.

“I want my mother.” Y/N pleaded with her midwives during her first labors.

Alicent developed a quiet fondness for her daughter by law in those days, more than she cares to admit.

————————————————————————

Princess Y/N and Prince Aegon are made comfortable upon their arrival, accepted with open arms by their Queen and left to their own devices.

Y/N and Aegon know little entertainment besides court…and the familiar comfort of the other. Without meetings to attend and their children still abed, they have no choice but to indulge.

Aegon finds his face between her thighs, drawn in like a moth to flame. Gods, how he loves her. Spelling it out over her pearl time and time again.

“Fuck,” Y/N cries, rolling her hips up to meet him.

Aegon’s hands encircle them, wide and full to bear his children. She finds her peak against his tongue, thighs clenched taut around his head.

They scarcely notice the door of their apartments creaking open until Rhaenyra is in their bed chamber. “Oh!” The woman shields her eyes.

“Mother,” Y/N gasps. Pulling the coverlet up to her chin.

“Forgive me. I thought you might be alone.” Aegon had been given his own chambers.

Aegon moves up toward the pillows, popping his head out from beneath the covers. “Did you need something?”

Rhaenyra huffs, “I need my daughter and heir, yes. We’ve much to discuss.”

“Of course, mother.” Y/N nods, “give me a moment to make myself decent and I will meet you in your rooms?”

Rhaenyra nods, before rushing out to the safety of the nearest corridor.

“That ought to keep her from barging in unannounced.” Aegon muses, brushing sweat damp hair from his wife’s face.

“You find it funny that my mother now knows of our…intimacies?” Y/N snaps.

Aegon chuckles, “I’m afraid she has known, darling girl.” He passes a hand over the swell of her belly. “Everyone knows, I fear.”

Y/N groans, burying her face in her hands.

“Do not despair, my dearest love.” Aegon murmurs, “you have laid your line of succession strong enough that no man may question it.”

Y/N nods, as his forehead rests against her temple.

“At all of five and twenty, you have provided the crown with nearly six heirs.” Aegon reminds her, “you have performed your duty. There is no shame in it.”

“When I was a girl, I thought we’d fly away on dragon back.” Y/N whispers, tracing the lines of his face with her finger.

Aegon smiles, “and where would we go?”

“Away on a ship somewhere, to live off the sea. We’d spend the rest of our days singing sea shanties, eating only cake…and fish, of course.”

Aegon chuckles, “of course.”

“We’d be free of all this.”

“We will never be free of this.” He understands better now, what it meant each time she took his body in her own to create life. The way they unknowingly sealed their fate with each kiss.

“Do you wish to be, husband?”

“I wish for your happiness and that of our children. The rest matters little and less.”

“You matter to me a great deal.”

————————————————————————-

“In your absence, Jacaerys and I have set down a difficult path…where it seems we now differ in opinion.” Rhaenyra informs her daughter. “As my successor, I must now raise the matter with you.”

“Of course.” Y/N nods.

“To stand against Vhagar, even with Sunfyre and Stormborn now amongst our ranks, we will need more dragon riders.”

“Our children are very young, their dragons still wet from the egg. It may be a decade or more before they take to wing.”

“You agree then, something else must be done about our numbers?” Rhaenyra asks.

Jace shakes his head, clenching his hands into fists.

“What do you propose?” Y/N wonders.

“There are many in our line who’ve…ventured outside their marriage bed. Those children have lived largely in the shadows, but they share the blood of the dragon.” Rhaenyra continues, choosing her words carefully.

“Surely there are those from our line who married into other noble houses-”

“We have lost Ser Stephen to such a venture. I fear the blood may be too thin.” Rhaenyra laments, toying with her rings.

“You disagree, Jacaerys?”

“When one of those baseborn, silver haired, dragon riders decide they want to rule the seven kingdoms, where does that leave you?” Jace turns to his sister. “They will leave you clinging to Aegon again, in hopes of becoming Queen. Even then they may question your claim.”

“I appreciate your concerns, you are ever vigilant.” Y/N takes his hand in hers, “I appreciate it more than you will ever know.”

“Of course.”

“I ask you now, brother, what other choice we have?”

“Together with Sunfyre, Vermax, Stormborn and Syrax do you not believe we stand a chance against Vhagar?”

“A chance, yes.” Y/N agrees, “but to put the people I hold most dear in danger for a chance? I can do no such thing in good conscience.”

“You are putting your claim in danger, perhaps your very life. Are you so blind you cannot see it?” Jace snaps.

“Better my claim be lost than any of you.” Y/N says, pointedly. “I want to be Queen. I have wanted it from the time I was a child and it was impressed upon me to want. Clinging to it like some prized possession. I married for it, birthed children for it. I was left behind in King’s Landing when I was no more than a child, to hold my place in our grandsire’s court while the rest of my family abandoned me for Dragonstone. I have given all that I am or ever hoped to be to hold this claim. Still I will choose any of you over a crown.”

“You should never have had to do that.” Jacaerys reminds her.

Rhaenyra runs a hand over her own face. “I did not mean for you to feel abandoned.”

“I know that, mother, and I do not fault you for it.” Y/N assures her, “you do what you must to protect-”

“Cole promised he would care for you, I should never have trusted him. I should have taken you with me, as I wanted. You wrote to me often enough that I forced myself to believe you were happy.”

“Cole did care for me, as best he could.” Y/N assures her, “I only meant…”

“You meant what you said.” Rhaenyra understands, “and rightfully so. I have made many mistakes in this life, most regrettably, with you. They have cost you more than even I understood, until now. Leaving you was the hardest thing I have had to do in all my years. I am sorry for it.”

“Mother, I do not fault you for decisions you made to protect me. You did the best you could.”

“I did not do enough, it seems.” Rhaenyra pats her cheek. “All the more reason I must do what I can for you now.”

“If you believe this is the way, then I will help you see it through.” Y/N decides, “tell me what I must do.”

“Nothing yet, the Lady Mysaria has already sent word to King’s Landing.”

————————————————————————-

When they are excused by the Queen, Jace makes haste towards his quarters.

“Jace,” Y/N calls. “Jacaerys!” She says a bit louder the second time to be sure he’s heard her.

“I wish for a moment alone.”

Y/N closes the distance between them. “I do not pretend to know what has happened here in my absence. But what I will tell you is that when Aegon and I first wed, he would not lie with me. After seeing Helaena birth her twins, he could hardly stomach it. He waited and waited.” Y/N confesses, “I too was frightened of the birthing bed.”

“You were a child.” Jace reminds her, “you’d every right to be.”

“When I turned ten and six Otto Hightower began discussing his fear that I might be barren, with Alicent. This was kept hush, but the whispers trickle down, they always do.” Y/N swallows. “In noble families requiring an heir, it is not uncommon to receive…assistance. They wanted to bring in one of the serving girls for Aegon, if I could not conceive. But before that though, I’d be expected to lie with another in our line.”

Jacaerys can only gawk at her. “And did you?”

“No,” Y/N assures him. “But had I not conceived, it would have been expected of me.”

“With whom?”

“Aemond is my husband’s closest blood.” Y/N averts her eyes, “they knew he could sire children.”

“Did mother know?” Jace demands.

“Everyone knew, Jacaerys.” Y/N huffs, “she was prepared to fight for me, as she always has. But I do not care to admit the number of times I’ve envied you…simply for being born a son. We cannot fault our mother for doing what she must, she is choosing between the lesser of two rotten choices.”

“I could not have done the things you have, I wish more than anything that you did not have to do them. But you are just, in your morals and your mercy. So if you believe this is the way, I stand proudly at your side.” Jace assures her. It never mattered to either of them that different men’s blood courses through their veins. Being the eldest, they are the only ones to ever know. Even sweet Lucerys had no inkling.

“Thank you, brother.”

Taglist: @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @kamcrazy123 @barnes70stark

[spacy-snail]

Don’t get me wrong, I completely understand people wanting to go back to how everything was before this debacle

But I can’t in good faith ever look at these guys the same way again. It doesn’t matter who’s decision it was, or why they did it, all three of them sat on that couch and were full send ready to leave their community behind to make some more money

I’ve been around since the Unsolved days and I was so excited to help them build up this new channel that was all theirs, free of the control of Buzzfeed, and them not even taking 5 seconds to think of how that community would feel leaving them behind for a payed service would feel tells me everything I need to know about them

So many people have been saying it, but it bares repeating, they had SO many other options to fix their financials. Downsizing, moving out of LA, not doing Worth It, not going international with Ghost Files, fucking promoting their Patreon. And from all of the analyzing from those who know what they’re talking about, it doesn’t sound like they were hurting for cash it all, it sounds like they don’t want to give up the lifestyles they currently have, want to do more, and were willing to throw their community under the bus to do it

I think what really sold it to me that the guys in the “Goodbye YouTube” were the real version of these guys and not the “We’re Sorry” video was the fact that in the small amount of time they had, they still had time to bemoan about how they were doing it so they wouldn’t have to “bow to the whims of the advertisers” and “oh well now we can’t pay our staff a good wage but if this is what you want :/“

Like yeah, they apologized, but they still double down that they were doing it for “the right reasons”

I’ve been around on YouTube long enough where I feel like I can tell when people are actively having to bend their backs to appeal to the almighty algorithm and advertisers, and Watcher is not one of those channels. They have NEVER made a comment about having issues with the platform before this, they have never done anything to ask for extra support, or help, or even plugging their fucking Patreon

I still want to watch their content, I still think they’re funny and I still think their shows are creative and entertaining, but it’s going to be a long while before the bad taste in my mouth from this decision goes away

[finnfrei]

I would love to hear more about your bard and her dragonborn 🥺👉👈

Aww, thank you so much for asking! Tbh, I always feel shy sharing the stories of my OCs, so I really appreciate your interest🩵

Where do I even begin? (Also, English is not my first or even second language, so I apologize for my poor writing in advance).

Clio is my changeling bard from our current homebrew DnD campaign and she’s the little ray of sunshine, who’s hiding her trauma behind a cheerful innocent smile. Or at least she used to be up until the party’s current adventure in Avernus. Quite early in life she realized how easy it is to lure secrets from people, when you look cute and play dumb.

Once she set out on an adventure with the party, she had a dream. A charming stranger in a dragon mask at a ball challenged her to play a complex composition. Non of what she saw on the music sheet he gave her made sense, it couldn’t sound good. But Clio was not the one to fuck around with and she started playing, struggling at first, but getting the grip of it. As the music played, the dirty secrets of people in the room started to reveal themselves to her overflowing her mind. The man asked her to meet him in the house of upper city where the party was headed.

That was how she met him, the man in the mask wasn’t a man she saw in the dream, but an emerald Dragonborn. Hescan was a commander of Secret Police and Master of College of Whispers. This tough mountain of muscles with cold gaze and devious grin was barely showing any genuine emotions. It felt familiar, she’s so used to putting on a mask herself, different ones, but still. He played cool and unbothered. Some even might say he looked dangerous, but Clio had met dangerous, cruel men way too many times before and wasn’t so easily fooled by him. She found it adorable on him. The feeling of safety around him puzzled her. He suggested her to work for him, collecting information, dragging skeletons out of others closets. She thought it would be fun to finally get paid for something she does anyway, never taking the job too seriously though. And well, girl asked for the direction of the nearest brothel, hoping to get some intelligence from local prostitutes, knowing full well about the amount of secrets kept by all the creatures, who aren’t taken seriously by rich and powerful. However, the dragonborn jokingly suggested her his bedroom. Joke got out of control. Bards being bards, I guess.

It all started with both of them trying to get intimate, “have fun” just to let down the other’s guard to get under their skin and lure more secrets from each other. Learn each other’s weaknesses, but also trying to secure the other’s loyalty. Hescan was playing cool and distant, meanwhile Clio was taunting him any time she saw an opportunity, shamelessly trying the limits of his patience. She liked to call him “pretty boy” and only called him “chief” in jest, he knew it also turned her on.

Eventually the more they learned the more they started to genuinely care about one another. They both knew what it was like feeling your body, your boundaries violated, used for someone else’s sick whims. They found comfort, they knew they were safe with each other, even if just for the night. Although they both had a hard time admitting it. After all it would mean to admit they had lost the game.

Now with a few years passed, they still have hard time fully trusting each other, given their occupation. She still makes fun of him, he finds it cute. He knows he can rely on her, so as she does.

There were so many sweet and funny moments between these two and to be honest the scenes where they admitted their feelings to each other, letting down their guards, live rent free in my mind.

[webslingingslasher]

i would suck dick for comfort most definitely sorry not sorry

the fact i got all these back to back 😭😭😭

kinda diff but same idea?

smutty content under the cut!

it's funny cause it would blow his mind that, that's what you want.

when it first happens you had a real sucky day and the only thing you felt like you were good at was making peter cum so you're all pouty and miserable watching him mercilessly kill opponents on his computer screen.

rolling your cheek to rest on the back of your hand, your front stretched across his bed.

"can i suck you off?"

you can hear a shout, muffled from his headphones.

'ayeooo, what the fuck?!'

you feel your cheeks warm, peter untucks an ear.

"what'd you say?" he couldn't believe it himself. you've never been so blunt when asking for him. he must have misheard.

you blink innocently, "mute me?"

peter taps his keyboard, you hear another roar, 'ayeoooo!'

"can i suck you off?"

his eyes flick to his bedroom door, his aunt's right outside on the couch. you've never been this risky before, "right now?" you lick your lips, "please?"

peter thinks it over, it should be a no brainer but his nightmare is his aunt knocking on the door while he's in your mouth. it doesn't matter, he'd be an idiot to say no.

"i..." several clicks, his screen goes blank, his headphones tossed on his desk. "yeah, okay." sitting up you grin, making grabby hands when he finally stands. 

"no! where go?" dropping into a pout when he walks towards his door, his fingertips flick the lock, you exhale an 'oh'.

peter raises an eyebrow, "are you okay?"

"no. yes. i feel shitty and i really want to make you cum, is that okay?"

peter cannot think of one scenario it wouldn't be okay.

-------

the second time is like the first, you figured it was a one one time thing, that you were in a funk and needed something to make you feel like you were good, and making peter feel good made you really feel good.

but now, after the third time you still couldn't understand what he was trying to explain, words and numbers going over your head; it felt like your head was about to explode.

your boyfriend's doing the best he can and doesn't deserve your frustration. you can't clear your thoughts, everything swirling in one jumbled mess and his explanations going nowhere. he's moving his mouth but all you hear is static.

all you needed was something to clear your mind, then you could truly focus and be nicer to peter. you needed something that would make you feel good, you needed... peter.

"same idea, you take the mean and multiply it by the val-"

"can i suck you off?"

peter's jaw drops, his eyes flicker from the notebook in front of him to you. "i'm sorry?"

your hand pulls at his waistline, "can i suck you off? i need something to help me focus." he doesn't say anything so you unbutton his pants, shifting in your seat at the kitchen table, preparing to hit the ground when his hands stop you.

"woah, okay, hold on. first off, i'm not sure if sucking my... i'm not sure if doing that will help you focus. second, at the kitchen table?"

nibbling on your bottom lip you shy away, you didn't think he was judging in a mean way, just in a 'he wouldn't do this' way.

"um, yeah, you're right. sorry."

peter doesn't like that you're being shy, watching you pick up a pencil and panic as you try and figure out what you definitely weren't listening to; his mind flashes back to the last time you asked on a whim.

"you doin alright, lovie?"

it's like you jolt away, "oh! um, yeah! just thinking."

"you sure? cause if you need a quick bedroom break i wouldn't mind."

it's like he just offered to take you to the moon. your head flips to him, stars in your eyes.

"really? cause i'm like," you make a line over your head with your hand, "up to here with information overload and i'm being kinda mean and i don't wanna be. i just need to clear my head and i dunno, it made me feel better last time."

when peter first got into the relationship he thought he struck gold. he some how got the prettiest person in the entire school to not only hit on him but like him enough to claim him officially. but he never actually thought about sex logically, because there was no way you would ever want to do that with him, until you reached your boiling limit and with tears in your eyes asked him why he thought you were ugly. then it became very clear you wanted, and like today, sometimes needed him like that.

so when situations like this happen, when he can't even believe it's real cause not even in his wildest dreams would he imagine his life being anything like this, he has no idea how to react. because, what do you mean you need to suck his dick?

"peter?" he's gone silent, you think the offers off the table. "it's okay if you don't feel-"

"i just don't get how it makes you feel any better. i mean, i'd get it if you wanted me to go down on you or if you wanted a quicky but i don't see how getting me off helps you. but if it does, i won't complain."

you can see his point, it does seem kind of odd.

"i think cause whenever you do stuff to me i just kind of get in my head. like, 'do i smell good, do i taste good, did i forget to shave, am i pulling his hair too hard, am i being too loud, too quiet? all those things. but when i do it to you, all i can think about is you and making you happy."

"so... when you..." his hand rotates as he skips over the words, you fill in for him, "suck your dick," he nods, "right, it makes you feel better because suddenly the only thing on your mind is me."

you nod, "correct."

"that's wild." his back hits against the chair, "also, not cool you're all freaked out when we have sex. not liking that."

you grab his shoulders in exclaim, "no! not like that! just, fleeting thoughts, i guess. but ninety eight percent of the time all i can think about is you."

"not risking the two percent?"

"i'd rather not."

"alright," peter knocks on the table, "now we got that out the way, from now on, you can please me whenever you want." he never thought he'd say those words.

"so... now?"

you cheer when your boyfriend stands, he gives you a pointed finger, "just so you know, this isn't something you can use to get yourself out of studying. this is me letting you use my body to help you focus better."

"yeah, yeah, yeah, bedroom, pants off."

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

after that? psh. he said anytime you wanted and you used that to your advantage. it went from clearing your mind to just doing it cause he said you could.

one night you're stretched across his couch while peter sits in the corner, both of you focused on a movie. suddenly, you remember you have something much more fun to pass the time. sometimes, you forget you can just... do it.

digging your toes into his thigh he pushes them away, "ow," rolling your eyes you poke again. "can i suck you off?" attention caught, "right now?"

"do you think i'm asking in advance?"

"but i'm all comfy and we're more than halfway through the movie, i'm committed now." he doesn't even have to do anything.

"okay, stay there. i'll just go between your legs, then you can still see the tv." you shuffle around until your knees hit the floor, then bringing yourself to peter by pulling on his leg.

"yeah, but, on the couch? i mean, if may-"

you rest your cheek on his knee, his flannel pajama pants ultra soft. "please don't talk about your aunt when i'm about to suck your dick."

"but if we make a mess she'll-"

you hush him, your fingers pulling at his waistband.

"then i'll make sure i don't make a mess."

----------

another night, you spent the night and woke him up after a bad dream. at first he's frazzled but when you express your panic he's wide awake and rubbing your back.

"um, i know you're tired but do you think i could..."

peter's gotten better at reading hints.

he yawns first, then smacks his lips before shuffling his boxers off.

"commit me if i ever say no."



[cosycafune]

MAKE UP SEX ; EREN JAEGER.

13k words. a summary of this chapter: to pull from a familiar source is to shatter so many hearts. to discover an alternative is to pierce your soul in so many places, despite peace remaining all you yearn to equip. if you were loved enough, this intrusion wouldn't linger — that’s why you ran away with eren. ran away with him, even if it is betrayal.

a synopsis of acts: time skip, virginity loss, child au, alternative ending, angst, arguing, crying, running away, adjusting, ptsd and letting go. smut summary: unprotected sex, strip tease size difference, slight corruption kink, missionary, oral (f), reassurance, cumming, recklessness, crying, orgasms, first times, nervousness, cock warming, breeding kin(g)(k), breastmilk play, aftercare + potential more. read with caution + ignore errors. just an unpublished part of my book.

Hurriedly fuelling the unrest within your demeanour, whilst you run across the resort, concealing the tears within your heart, you discover the entirety of nothing.

The beach remains heavily deserted, with nothing to be picked up on, no matter how much your eyes shift. A tender sensation overtakes the entirety of you, embedding nervousness, doubt, and a horrid sensation within your heart.

Why are you running with such motivation?

Worry piercing your heart, you continue to sprint, your eyes clouded with tears whilst you enter a secluded area.

Upon entering the secluded area, you fail to intake the faulty trail, desperate to discover the entirety of Eren. For someone who placed so much distance between you, within this ample vacation, he sure did love vacant areas. You sure did worry for the man, yearning for the best for him.

If only he confessed, a few years ago.

Would life have been easier and more loving? He would have never slaughtered your heart as Armin did, placing you before any expectations anyone holds for him.

"Eren, this isn't funny now," Halting, intaking the environment, inching further within a flower-populated field, you clear the tears within your eyes.

"You said, we were going to run if everything went wrong," Sniffling frantically, unable to conceal your cries, you continue, "How did our lives get so fucked up when it only once was us?" You murmur to yourself, picking up on a silhouette that resembles Eren. A silhouette that remains standing, intaking the atmosphere.

Of course.

"Y/n, I know you're there," Inching closer to the entirety of his being, unable to conceal your spreading tears, you crumble upon the ground — your heart growing content that he is safe.

If he slaughtered himself, you would never forgive yourself.

"E-Eren," Observing the sight of him settling in front of you, concealing the puffiness of his eyes, he directs himself into planting in front of you. He maintains such a safe distance.

"Celine," A softness tints your tone, "She told me how the two of you broke up, along with just everything else." Sniffling, you break into a chuckle — grateful his presence remains.

"Yeah," He stills within his position, "I couldn't fake the fact that I just don't love her," Eren frowns, guilt completely enveloping his tender self. A tender self that completely crumbles towards the entirety of your rattled self.

"I'm glad you told her, instead of leading her on," You still with carefulness.

"And, why have you been excessively crying?" His viridian eyes can intake the entirety of your guilty self, unable to diminish the tenderness you hold.

"Just the usual," Eren's ineligibility stuns you, particularly with the fact that he holds subtle anger towards the fact that Armin continuously makes you cry.

Hell, he knew you were so afraid of Armin leaving, discovering someone else and leaving you within the pattern of two am. To leave you with Elara, his whims invested in the entirety of someone else.

"You deserve to not cry every day, to be loved in a way that only makes you happy," Eren's eyes twinkle with ethicality, "I truly just want you to be loved in a way that leaves you glowing," Eren adds on, his eyes adorned with the beauty of frustrated tears.

"You're a mother, and I've seen how so many things have affected the two of you," He halts, "Please, just never settle for a situation as broken as that," Eren glimpses at you with a beam, "To cry so disgustingly over a man who isn't willing to give you a lot of his time." A sigh slips from his parted lips.

"If you didn't have Elara, would you still be with him?" His words cause your eyes to widen with untimely shock, reevaluating so many unturned branches of life. You thought you were deserving of such suffering, based on the generational aspect of your family.

"Eren..." His words tinker with your resolve, selfishly bringing you to ponder on a life with him. A life where he remains meeting you within a flower shop, despite a thunderous storm, aiding you with the entirety of it all.

An impossible love story.

"I don't want to intrude, but knowing you, and the look on your face, you wouldn't stand for all he's put you through," Eren sighs with untimely sorrow, "I can sense the anger you try so hard to suppress, due to how he has treated you." His words of truth spark an unknowingness within you, controlling the air loosely bound to your lungs.

"I'm a mother, Eren," A sorrowful glance is gifted to him, "In this world, only my daughter matters." Your words are the only words you can offer him, despite being so heavily in love with Armin.

"I'm glad," Eren glances at you with softness, "But why did you try to find me?" He diverts his eyes away from your own, his movements so collected and so painfully calm.

"Because I care about you," Sniffling at your words, you couldn't help but place a hand on his shoulder — gifting him a gentle smile.

"I'm grateful that you do," Conflicted, Eren conceals his budding tears, unwilling to glimpse at the entirety of you. To glimpse at someone who happened to lighten yet dim his conclusive world.

"I'm going to be moving, Y/n," Your eyes grow wide with fear, "I refuse to jeopardise my mental health further, on something I can't control and don't want to fuck up." His words reek of truth, readying himself to spew tears he doesn't yearn to spew.

"If you want to come, meet me at two am," A part of you brings yourself to gasp, "As a send-off...or whatever you want to interpret it as." Eren's brows crease whilst your heart grows rapidly towards his words, your world threatening to grow out of such a collapsed state.

But you deserved to be loved so dearly.

"I-I have to think about leaving my life," A trickle of panic engulfs you, "I still love Armin, Elara and I don't know if I can do anything to break up my little family." He gifts you a tender grin, his heart swarmed with contentment — a part of him discovering an undeserving peace.

"What's your only wish?" Intaking the entirety of the flower-coated environment, you gift yourself a blooming flower — turning your body away from his own.

"That Armin was never associated with Annie," Still growing sombre at the thought, you bring the ivory flower to your face — mimicking the flowers he brought you before.

"What's your wish, Eren?" Unwilling to meet his gaze, you stir within the tragedy, your tone stiff with ungifted words. Words that completely conclude what could have occurred between the two of you.

"To be able to live happily," He informs you, walking further within the fields with you, his tears so effortlessly streaming down his face. Streaming down whilst the entirety of dawn is thrown upon the both of you.

"You say all this, but if you unrealistically had the chance to run away with me, during all my bad moments, what moment would you have chosen?" To somewhat fuel his unethical moral, you surface a moment where he feels as if he's needed the most — despite being able to manage so effortlessly on his own.

"Your baby shower," Eren's eyes display a layer of guilt, "I had never seen you so hurt and embarrassed in your life, crying and hyperventilating, all your fears in just one room." He adds on, smearing away his tears whilst you could only ready pathetic tears — your heart unwilling to still the steady thudding.

"No one else thought you were sad, except me," Softly, he continues a melodious row of words, "I've just wanted to stop every single tear you've ever spilt, to give you a life that has no heartbreak or sadness." Eren's fingers dance along the gentle grass, completely tinting you with a delicate smile.

Old times engulfed the both of you.

"Even with me pregnant?" Sighing at your words, he only raises a smile — his heart growing content towards your abrupt words.

"Yes. I'd never abandon someone so special to you," His fingers collect a beautiful amount of flowers, "You know me well enough." His finishing words are what set tears in your eyes, readying you to crumble upon the grass — to kiss away your fleeing sanity.

But Armin's your world.

"Do you remember my hospital visit?" Your lips part with guilt, "Before I was pregnant, deathly skinny and crying?" His eyes flutter at your words, the memory repressing him into such a sullen mental state.

"Yeah," He grows slightly distant, "When Armin wasn't picking up his phone, so I came straight to the hospital?" He grimaces at the thought, unsettled by how badly Armin had treated you.

—

Over a year ago, you remained in such a frail condition, desperate for the entirety of Armin to remain.

Set in a hospital bed, tears in your eyes, you are engulfed with vacancy. Your heart lies empty whilst your frail body is unable to shift, succumbing to the severity of your malnourishment. Something that caused you to freakishly collapse at work, your movements limited and unusually scarce.

Clinging to the sheets within the room, growing impatient towards the lack of Eren and Armin, you can't help but tiredly weep. Tiredly weep whilst you grow aware of how much weight you had shredded, based on worrying over the entirety of Annie and Armin. And within the moment, you couldn't help but spite the entirety of Armin — spite him for planting you in such an unethical predicament.

Growing aware of the distasteful silence, you could only frown at how alone you always remain — even within the most severe moments of your life. The sensation causes you to lightly break into an array of cries, yearning to crumble the entirety of the hospital bedding. Your heart is unable to handle the fact that your lover remains far from the hospital, unaware of the voice note that you sent him. A voice note that you send, one so welcoming to the idea of death.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Y/n, I got here as fast as I can!" Eren blurts out, rushing to your side, his eyes stained effortlessly with tears. He gifts you a gentle bellflower, an ample bag settled so effortlessly beside.

"E-Eren, I'm sorry for never being in a good enough condition to meet you," You still with guilt, "I'm never happy around you, and I'm sorry." He could only settle a chair beside you, his hand grasping upon your own, comforting a sobbing you.

"Come here, Eren," Despite your frail condition, you bring your arms around his neck, drawing him within your arms.

He could only falter at the contact, his lips quivering whilst he grows unable to fathom who crumbled the entirety of your life.

You used to be so happy, so carefree. Now, you were a lonesome soul, the concept of sadness incomprehensible.

"The next time you see me, I won't be like this," Grasping onto him further, his head settled against your concealed breasts, you could both only free such heinous cries. Cries that enhance the freedom you could only seek.

"I only want you to be there when we have happy moments," Gifting him a gentle smile, his head beneath your jaw, you run your fingers through his delicate hair — drawing in the tender scent.

"I don't want to subject you to the hardship you felt, when your whole family died," Softening at your words, Eren could only fall to your touch — his heart so gentle and content towards the entirety of it all.

"I just want you to be safe," Eren stills, "Seeing you wither is killing me. It hurts seeing you grow weak, so depressed and trying to submerge yourself with work." His fingers grow ivory with irritation, his demeanour only being calmed whilst you played with his hair.

"I don't want to lie to you, but I don't even think I'm safe with myself," Eren groans at your words, "A-And, lying to you will only make me feel worse." He listens to you huff, only for you to grow aware that he's stilled by the nature of fatigue.

"Who's he?" His tone alters with drowsiness, "I want to know who's making you suffer like this." Eren's whiny words of concern elicit a chuckle from you, particularly with the way he funnily sniffled — heightening your crumpled morale.

"Right now, it's just you and me," Unable to pick up on Eren's tone, you recognise that he had fallen asleep.

"We're both safe here," Sighing with contentment, you continue to beautifully coddle the entirety of him, feeling so safe with him remaining.

Eren had always been there. Even as a child, with you attaining cuts as a child, he would always blissfully patch them up.

Whenever someone would notice the severity of your home situation, plastering you upon the spot, he would only rush you to his home — sheltering you from the dreadful home life you hold. A home life that consisted of screaming, cast-aside objects, tears, broken furniture, and curling upon the ground.

And as a teen, you could only linger in his room, sharing sleepovers with him, unwilling to tear away from his frame.

But when his parents passed away, when he had only turned seventeen, you couldn't help but stay around his home, unwilling to pull from the entirety of his frame.

As his wails grew further contorted, you could only hold him in your arms — placing the covers upon the both of you. Placing the covers whilst you hold him contently. It's a memory you forever cherish.

—

A few years before the tragic hospital memory, you are settled upon Eren's desk chair — your arms folded whilst he grows distant from you. Grows distant whilst he attempts to intake the mere fact that his heart grows completely sombre towards the presence of his parents fading.

His neck-length hair is rather dishevelled, his viridian eyes low and completely overtaken with sullenness. His fingers carelessly weave with each other, his lips trembling as he intakes the photo of him with the entirety of his family.

Spinning within the chair, you grow aware of his lack of attentiveness — his eyes displaying not an ounce of emotion.

Softly, you can't help but bring yourself to inch closer to him — planting your comforting body in front of him.

You carefully glance down at him, capturing the entirety of his body within your arms. He could only hold you, his hands stretching across your back, his movements limited but heavily aware of your presence.

"I'm here, Eren," You glimpse at the doughnuts you had bought for him, "I'll never leave you to mourn so openly alone." He doesn't spew a single word, only bringing his cries to engulf your shirt. Well, a shirt that is his own, that remains offered to you by him.

"I just want to see them again," His words only cause you to inch closer and closer, pushing him upon the bed with you — swarming him within your arms.

This position is one you always held his troubled self within, coddling him until the morning is to rise. Until all the white flowers are to bloom. Until he rejoices within your arms, failing to depart from such safeness.

"They love you so damn much," You run your fingers through his dishevelled hair, "You're their pride and joy, along with Zeke." He calms at your mention of Zeke, clinging to you further. Clinging before you plant the bed sheets upon the both of you, gifting him a gentle kiss on the top of his head.

"I'll make sure that you are never able to feel a pain like this," Eren stills, "I love you too much to allow you to get hurt," His words plant a warmth within you, allowing you to register the feelings that you hold towards him.

"I also love you so much," You gift him a playful head kiss, "We'll forever be together." He chuckles at your beautiful words, playfully rolling with you — his figure so gentle and warming.

"I'm not leaving you with your thoughts, so I'm holding you until you fall asleep," Eren grins, happily falling into your touch, "If you feel unsafe physically or mentally, wake me up." You finish off, his movements growing so beautiful and content.

—

Being back within the face of reality, you remain plastered within the flowers, lying down with Eren. Your heart could only grow heavy with sullenness, unable to cope with the thought of him occupying a different destination — his presence no longer remaining for you to comfort.

He had only been able to attain fulfilled happiness through your assurance, in a way that allowed him to register that he'd forever have someone in his corner.

And if he didn't?

"I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemy," Eren chuckles at your words, "To be abandoned by the one you love is not for the weak." You resist the urge to coddle him, to hold him for old-time sakes, to conceal the sullenness that completely corrodes your demeanour.

"I've seen that through you, and you still haven't even fully recovered through what he's put you through," Eren could only spew a truth you didn't yearn to hear, "He needs to learn to show you he values you, instead of making you cry to realise." His words cause you to curl into yourself, suppressing the fact that you had spent half of your time crying over Armin's actions.

"One day, the world will heal," You sniffle, "He's a broken man, but he still loves me so dearly." Eren shifts at your words, his heart growing content towards the admiration you express towards him.

"How long is it before he creates an extremely broken woman?" Eren admits an unrevealed truth, observing you shift with guilt at his words — realising how lowly you used to value yourself.

"I'm far past the mentally sane point, but I'm getting there," You admit to him.

Your heart grows gleeful towards his words, yet unable to shed the laughter you conceal.

Like old-time friends.

"But if we do run away, we'll leave almost everything behind," Swaying with the movement of the flowers, your eyes widen with tears — your fingers reaching to grasp onto his slightly distant self.

"Every death? Every relative? Everything we know?" Unable to dissipate your sullenness, yet untimely freedom, you direct your eyes towards such an intimate sight of the blissful flowers. Flowers that swayed at their own pace, nothing dictating their unpredictable fates.

"Everything," He murmurs, "Regardless, I'm leaving my old life behind." Eren's tone trembles with engulfing fear, towards his words, incapable of imagining a future deprived of you.

There isn't one.

"I can't live a life without you," Deprived of jolliness, he completely cascades his tears — his tone pliable, yet firm with unaltered disaster. Unapologetic he is, spewing a known truth.

"I can't live my life without you," Bringing your hand to wipe a single tear of his, your heart grows sombre towards his words. Words that hold a much deeper meaning than deciphered.

"I don't even want to cry, to ruin anything for you, but if you are willing to, meet me here at two am with Elara," He stills, "A time where you aren't alone." He finishes off, his movements swaying with the ethereal grass.

"Eren..." Bringing yourself to arise from the grass, you glimpse down at his laying self, "Thank you, I love you." You bring yourself to add on, permitting him to accustom to the shaping of the ground — yearning to be left solitary.

"I love you, too," Eren brings himself to say, observing the sight of a cloudy horizon in front of him — relishing the entirety of this authentic moment.

—

Journeying home, planted in front of the door, you carefully bring yourself to open it — your heart set upon your fated decision. Not a single ounce of you grows revealing towards your plans, inching into your home — being greeted with the mere sight of an attentive Armin.

His heart grows gentle towards the sight of you, his eyes flitting towards the beauty of your outfit.

A softness falsely coats your eyes, as you grow aware of all you are set to do.

"Armin, I love you," Your words collide with his heart, blissfully bringing him to softly bind his arms around the entirety of you. In a manner that allows you to forever memorise the sensation of his arms, free from the feeling of a completely corroded home.

A home that dwindles within the memories of the past.

"I love you, too, my love," Armin obliviously brings himself to say, so effortlessly feeding into the slight doubts you hold. Doubts that spring your heart to life, one where you are finally loved in a manner that puts you entirely first.

In a way where your lifestyle is secured by the likes of Eren and his connections, along with the safeness he guarantees, the length of the time you've known him, and how abiding your daughter is towards him.

Not a single cry, scream or piece of angst had ever been applied to the entirety of Eren, welcoming a cast-aside love. A casted aside love because of how desperate you grew to invest your time, your presence and safety into a situation that only stirs sadness within you, ptsd, despite the happy moments.

Your heart still aches towards the empty days he welcomed, the empty promises, the lack of care, the solitary hospital visits, and the moments where you doubted if he was ever going to love you.

Even on a few days, he grows guilt towards all he's ever done to you — his hold on you extra firm. Almost as if he's aware of the fact that someone is always forever there to hold you better, to love you better, to cuddle you better, to gift you a clean, sadness-free love. Someone like Eren.

Someone he has always been threatened by. Someone he knows is likely to completely corrode away the toxic bond he has formulated between you and himself.

A bond that lies upon lies and false promises, finally displayed love, so much uncertainty, lack of trust, and frequent panic attacks. Frequent panic attacks of you being displayed within the open. Within the open towards the whole world, something that was never once an option.

As you had never truly been prioritised.

"How did it go?" Armin questions, his heart holding a softness towards a dormant calm within you.

A dormant calm that fails to reveal its complexity, halting within a moment that's set to alter the entirety of four different lives.

"He didn't kill himself," A phrase he couldn't help but suppress slips from your lips, particularly with the way you are unable to lie around him. Unable to lie in a way that's able to deceive him, so you splatter the truth.

Yet, the cleanup around it is timely.

"I'm glad he didn't," Armin stills his tone, "I wouldn't want you losing someone so close to you, even if he does like you." His last words cause you to narrow your eyes. Knowing, just knowing, in a few hours, the entirety of this is likely to fade.

To fade all the turmoil that remains. To plant a new seed of peace.

"Don't start another argument," Your lips furrow with a sense of light disdain, "Especially with Elara here," A softness overtakes your demeanour, "When will you ever stop getting jealous, and realise you've always subjected me to way worse?" Armin's eyes widen to a degree you are unable to fathom, particularly as this is all that taints your crazed mind.

He broke you to a point that you grew to appreciate the emotions of a man who has always forever cared for you. Perhaps that's why Elara has grown so fond towards him? So fond because he would always comfort your sombreness, aiding your exhausting pregnancy. A pregnancy that contained so much heartbreak, you grew shocked towards the fact that Elara even survived.

"I'm sorry," His words welcome a frustration within you, allowing you to finally welcome your suppressed thoughts.

Why did you wait so long for someone who took two years to genuinely display you?

"He was the only one that truly took care of me, especially when you abandoned me," Your eyes inherit an ethical disdain, "He was never mean, cared more than you could bring yourself to, and always took me to the hospital, especially when I was struggling with eating, sleeping, doing nothing but working." Armin inherits guilt.

"I understand how you feel, I do, but I'm working on trying to not hurt you and his feelings, even if he does like me," Carefully walking towards the living room, you glimpse at a blanket upon the ground, "But one of you is only going to get hurt, I said what I said." Armin grows light towards your words, knowing that Eren's likely to grow hurt.

"Eren's going to get hurt," Armin ages into an uncomfortable state, "He's too kind to get hurt." His words completely collide with the whole nature of you, dismissing the entirety of your character.

"And I, me, was too nice to be treated like a side chick, hurt so badly mentally, that it fucked me up physically," His lips tremble with fear, "Don't paint me out as a bad person, knowing that you only view yourself as a saint," You inch closer to the kitchen, "Doing everything for the greater good. Because emotions are only temporary." Anger pitches into your demeanour.

You are trying to get yourself to hate him.

"You're such a fucking hero!" A psychotic chuckle slips from your lips, "Thinking about another man's emotions, knowing you abandoned mine." He grows wordless, his eyes completely analysing the tears you begin to spew.

"I just want peace," A nervousness overtakes you, "I'm going to sleep," You glimpse at him, intaking his characteristics, "You're better off helping my mum put together Elara's crib. I want space." He could only sullenly nod at your words, his eyes holding tears.

Tears you wish you could cave into. Yet, you knew this cycle would only bloom once more, inviting heartbreak, sombreness, solitary, and suicide to prosper. Just as your mother said.

"I'll see you and Elara tomorrow morning," Armin brings himself to bundle his fists, aware of how he messed up, "I love the two of you so fucking much," His eyes gleam with an expressive sadness, "I never want the two of you to not know that." He kneads his discomfort, attempting to plaster strength.

"I love you, too," Your eyes fail to greet his own, "But I just need space." Finishing off your words, you inch closer to your room with Elara within.

—

At the unsound hour of one a.m., you grow heavily cautious — cleverly packing a bag of all of Elara and your things. Though the clothes are a slither of yours, you only needed to prioritise the entirety of your daughter — especially with her asleep against your baby carrier.

But to aid your plan, you leave your phone behind — readying to conceal such an angst-filled lifestyle.

Eren always makes you feel safe.

"Ela-la, mummy loves you so much," Speaking to her slumbering self, you plaster your bags within your hands — grateful for the strength you wield.

To leave this fucked up place behind.

Ensuring she remains asleep, you softly plant a kiss upon her gentle head — carefully inching towards the front door. Aware of the fact that Armin lingers ten minutes away, with the presence of your mother, you grow comfortable with this factor. Comfortable as it ensures that not a single person can exhibit the fact that you are bound to flee from your present love.

Softly opening the front door, after carefully planting a note upon the blanket he leaves, you delicately bring yourself to remain outside — observing the sight of Eren's parked car.

His expression remains timeless towards the sight of you, a softness tinting his beautiful features. The sight of him elicits your past emotions, motioning for your heart to freely be able to swirl — at the mere sight of his welcoming self.

"Be careful," His mouthed words cause you to delicately carry you and Elara down the steps, relishing him positioning himself to help bring the both of you down — instinctively taking hold of your packed bags.

"Eren, Armin's coming soon, so we need to leave," A genuine smile, filled with hope and admiration, tints your lips, "Take us somewhere so beautiful, but very safe for me and my little girl." With Eren carefully opening the door, he brings himself to aid you with Elara — a car seat already placed within.

This very thing awoke her.

"Ela-la, mummy's got you," At your words, Elara softly babbles — her heart growing content towards the mere sight of Eren lingering.

Yet, she grows rather sullen towards the vacant presence of Armin. A presence she grows to instinctively miss.

"Daddy's planning to come visit you soon," Your fibs cause Elara to grow calm, settling into a fit of sleep.

A fit of sleep that welcomes you the opportunity to settle beside her, buckling the both of you up. Buckling you both up whilst a set of peace completely overtakes you, despite the anxiety of growing heavily caught by the entirety of Armin.

At least you left a note. A note that answers questions he already holds the answer to.

"Eren, start driving," Glee frames your healing bones, "Let's live a peaceful life in England, away from where we once were." Completely enthralled by your words, he gifts you a gleeful smile — his soft lips settled within the widest, boyish grin to exist.

"I thought you'd never ask," Eren begins to drive away from the place that once carried a large part of you, one that no longer frames a happiness you wish to attain. An impossible happiness with the entirety of Armin.

"When we get to the home I own, far from everyone else, I'll make sure that Elara will have a comfortable room to sleep in." Eren's words warm your gentle heart, gifting you the comfort of falling asleep beside your daughter.

Finally breaking a generational curse.

"I finally feel...mentally free," Your heart thuds with an discovered joy, "I've only ever felt mentally safe with you, there has never been the thought of anger," A smile caresses your carefree being, "We've always understood each other," You halt, attending to Elara, "I'm sorry that it took so long for the both of us to realise that we're meant for each other." You finish off, your heart tender and content.

"It took so long, but I'm glad we're finally together," Eren's eyes tint with a happiness he had never witnessed beforehand, "I'm never going to let anything harm you and Elara." His words further calm your mind, particularly whilst he further drives off — leaving behind a life the both of you once knew.

The two of you always knew that you were forever meant to be, even through conflicts.

—

A tender week and a half had skimmed by, and both you and Elara accustomed yourselves within Eren's large home. Never once had you adjusted to such safeness, not a single undisclosed issue rising.

The both of you grew unwilling towards rushing any aspect of the both of you, solely accustoming to the art of it all.

Whilst you grew sullen in your sleep, fearful towards Armin within your dreams, stealing Elara away from you, you fell into a fit of crying. A fit at two am.

But at each tender cry, whilst Eren aided you with Elara, he calmed the nerves you carried — his tender hugs keeping you going.

And even as the both of you left the airport, travelling on a private jet, he allowed himself to wholly take care of a wailing Elara. An Elara who cried towards the thought of her absent father, only to softly calm at a lullaby that Eren proclaimed towards her.

Fatherly things came to him with ease.

Currently, you remain upon your new-found couch, glimpsing at the sight of Eren — observing the entirety of him. Observing him holding Elara, carefully attending to her sleeping self.

It seems she recognises his good nature, so beautifully attending to the entirety of him — treating him almost as if he is Armin. Armin in a way that permits her to register that Armin's no longer set to be present in her life.

"You're a natural, Eren," Intaking the softness of your tone, along with the carefreeness of your demeanour, he offers you a gentle smile.

A gentle smile that amounts to the concept of kisses. The two of you hadn't kissed yet, gotten intimate, or even shared the same bed — he allowed things to specifically flow.

"I know we've run away and everything, but what do you expect from our future?" Eren's cheeks tint towards his words, almost as if he can't help but ultimately register that you finally flourish towards his path of love.

A path that only spews righteousness, familiarity and safeness.

Childhood friends to lovers.

"Just the three of us and peace," Your eyes grow towards him and a content Elara, "I don't want to cry anymore, nor feel like I'm not enough, even if I'm treated almost as if I am." Eren's ears grow attentive towards your words, feeding into his urge to freely engulf you within a gentle cuddle.

"I just want to cuddle you, just like the old times," Softly, Eren brings himself to carefully guide Elara towards you — settling upon the couch.

Elara could only meet his delicate eyes, carefully grasping onto his hair — babbling with friendliness.

"Got room for one more?" Eren grows gleeful at your words, staining Elara's eyes upon his own — treating her solely like his own.

She's now his daughter, indefinitely.

"Always got room for this sweetheart,"  His words cause Elara to blissfully babble within his hold, clinging onto him with firmness.

"We've got to build the crib," With a frown coating your lips, his expression inhabits sullenness towards the stress you hold.

"I've already built it, and got another one in your room," Your eyes greet his own, with mellow glee, "I didn't want you to be stressed or sad about it, so I did it whilst you and Elara slept." His words mean more than you can comprehend, prompting you to apply a smile upon his lips — planting an earnest kiss upon his supple cheek.

"Thank you, Eren," Being able to invest in the beauty of his presence solely comforted your being, enabling the idea of you exclusively being optimistic — not an unmarried ounce of turmoil wavering.

"Don't thank me for the bare minimum," His lips perk up with smite. His viridian eyes so lovingly drawn to your own, his lips no more than a tender inch away from your own.

"Shut up," Growing flustered beneath his gaze, you bring yourself to settle your head upon his chest — only for him to confidently pull back, tilting your chin.

"You look very beautiful, sunshine," His words welcome tears within your eyes, particularly with the mere fact that you were never something so welcomed in the morning. Nor had anyone ever once seen you worthy of being accompanied outside.

"Sunshine?" Coddling Elara further, you drift your lips closer to Eren's — the softness of them far from hesitant.

Carefully, you draw your lips closer, nervously grazing his top lip. Nervously grazing his lip before he tilted his head further, allowing his broad nose to brush up on your supple cheek.

"Yes," His lips so effortlessly take comfort upon your own, staining a familiar sensation upon your lips. A familiar sensation that solely welcomes the art of solace and reviving a dormant love.

The softness of his plush lips completely captures your own, drawing your eyes to remain so beautifully sealed — relishing the sparks that blossom from the kisses Eren plants upon your gentle lips. Kisses that you conceal your moans towards, your tears swirling, so in place with the moment.

So in place whilst the tender sun completely adorns many aspects of the both of you, tinting the moment with something so historically beautiful and gifting.

"Our second kiss," You structure your being around his starry eyes, incompetent of comprising your flustered beam, "That was magical." The words you emit endow him with the chance to raise another kiss from you, apprehending the totality of you — storing you with timely butterflies.

"You're so special," Eren draws his lips open, his finger staining his kissed-stained lips, "I'm devoted to you." His words capture your heart, applying the idea of you riddling your fingers upon his broad chest — aiding your slumbering daughter.

"Eren?" His fingers collide with your own, adjusting to the entirety of your manicured fingers.

"Yeah?" The lightness of his tone allows you to effortlessly shy away from his being, your heart swelling so feverishly towards his advances. Towards the nervous crimson hue that he carries upon his potent cheeks. Almost as if he's aware of what you are bound to say.

"Have you ever lost it to someone?" Nervously, his cheeks are effortlessly thundered upon by a crimson hue — he tilts his innocent gaze away.

Tilts his innocent gaze whilst you monitor the entirety of his movements, noticing that he has never been intimate with someone.

"No," Eren's lips thin with slight embarrassment, "I've never done it before." His words tint you with a beautiful amount of hope, one that warms your adjusting heart.

"When it's nighttime, and Elara's in her room, I'll come to yours," His eyes are glossed with a sense of completion, "I...I love you, Eren," He could tell your words hold meaning, especially with the way you cling to Elara — coddling her sleeping self.

She settled so much better, within this fulfilling environment.

—

Enveloped by a beautiful ivory lingerie set, your demeanour swarming with nervousness, you settle outside of Eren's room — your heart thudding recklessly towards the idea you've painted within your careless mind.

Your eyes sheepishly waver. Your fingers press against your untamed heart, plastering doubt within you — posing your body outside of his door.

Unable to proceed past the metaphorical boundaries, in complete nervousness, your breathing grows scarcely clustered outside of his door. Clustered in a manner as being so freely cherished, your heart grows content towards the thought of facing intimacy with Eren.

Your glee is one you are unable to contain. Contain to express your physique towards him, for the first time.

"I-I..." Failing to muster any coherent words, to slip towards the commotion on the other side, your fingers restlessly tint the ample French door.

"Y/n?" Listening to the spirit of his tone, your heart falls into an uproar, encouraging you to bring a brittle hand to your lips — softly growing discouraged.

"E-Eren?" Barely able to muster a coherent whisper, you grow property to the ground — completely yearning for him to encourage the first move.

"You can—" Eren softly parts his door, his eyes widening at the mere sight of you — along with your angelic lingerie completely compelling with the lunar moon.

The moonlight illuminates the ivory of your lingerie.

It causes his eyes to falter, to draw in every ounce of you. His lips so recklessly quiver. His toned cheeks are completely drowned by a longing crimson. His flitting eyes so dearly waver so effortlessly towards the beauty of your physique.

"Y-Y/n?" With Eren's fingers upon the door frame, his clothes clinging loosely upon him, he's unable to dismiss the thudding of his heart — the beauty of you irreplaceable.

"It's fine if—" Unrest overtaking you, your words grow shunned by his actions, welcoming him to carefully grasp hold of you.

Riddled with all your words, he grabs hold of your plush arms, planting your barely clothed self around his broad waist — his erection so prominent and rather fulfilling.

You know the length of him would be something that completely overrides Armin.

"You're so beautiful," With Eren's words aligning with him concealing his bedroom door, the moonlight tinting his you-smitten features, he guides the two of you upon an ample bed.

His careful hold upon you is featherlight, feverous and scandalous.

"Your face, it's something so beautiful," Enveloped by the entirety of enthralment, rather nervous towards the encounter and his words, you feel his bulgy erection nudge against your inner thighs — eliciting a small moan of nervousness.

"Let's take care of each other," Eren softly plants you upon the gentle bed, observing you sink so effortlessly within the bed, your body sprawled in front of the entirety of him.

You observe his eyes linger upon your features, his cheek tint failing to slip away from your eyes — his body towering over your lone state.

"Always," Gasping at the on-edge tension, you slightly puff your cheeks, so, so, so, exuberant at such an intimate moment.

An intimate moment that frames the blossoming love you've always held for Eren, completely burying it beneath a love you once held for Armin.

"I'm going to take off my shirt," At his words, a careless thud enters between your thighs — welcoming you the chance to bundle them, slightly throwing your head back at the gruffness of his enthralled tone.

"I-I want to see all of you," Biting back your tongue, growing so heavily flustered, you intake his fingers — pinching the edges of his grey shirt, slowly inching upwards.

"I'm fine with giving you all of me," Unable to conceal your grin, you intake his prominent v-line — only to intake the firmness of his revealing abs.

Innately, your eyes dart to meet the sight of his daring pecs, his sculpted shoulders, along with the beauty of each flex of his muscle.

He grew adamant, his smile rather taunting. Taunting whilst his stomach trail completely captures your eyes, leaving you yearning to wrap your lips around his unknown tip.

"I want all of you!" Slightly rolling your hips, you glimpse at him with a feverous need, unable to handle the mere sight of a shirtless him — his trousers not effortlessly close to being peeled down by the entirety of him.

"I'm forever yours," Eren announces while inching closer to a physically vacant you, observing your covet fingers draw to your pooling cunt.

He glimpses at the faint sight of your cunt, stifling back his struggled breaths — only to glimpse at your breasts. Breasts that hold a plumpness to them, startling his erection further.

"Show me that, Eren," Slipping your fingers towards the midsts of your breasts, he cranes in closer to you, softly sinking you further within the bed.

Ethereally, his dexterous fingers dart towards your supple cheek — his viridian eyes and his kiss-deprived lips so attentive towards the sight of you.

Naturally, he places his mesmerising face closer to your own, feeling your hands cling to the sides of his lithe cheeks.

He grows flushed at the sensation, drawing his tender lips upon your moon-filled ones — enchanting the entirety of his heart.

So delicately, his starry eyes mature further into a meaningful state, the silence enveloping you both — whilst your desperate lips so effortlessly collide.

Completion.

The sensation of his lips encapsulates the love you hold for him, welcoming you into further relishing the sensation of his broad nose upon the side of your cheeks.

His supple lips obey a feverishness, enveloping your heart.

Unable to draw away for breath, you sculpt your legs around his toned waist, moaning at each gentle kiss. Effortlessly filled with chemistry, his trained lips conduct themselves into leaving you gasping. To gasp whilst he slips his lips away from your own, planting his lips beneath your jaw — whilst your head remains tilted upwards.

Your heart grows so reckless at his heated kisses, resting against your Adam's apple. His grunts and groans, towards the kisses, welcome you to wrap your legs firmer around him — sinking into the time-consuming trails he plants.

"Eren!" Incapable of planting his name elsewhere, you feel his lips slip further down your Adam's apple — enhancing the lust that gathers hold of your desperate lips.

It causes your heart to swirl so effortlessly. The wholeness of it is encapsulated by the warmth, the prosperity of the softness of his lips — welcoming warm trails of gentle kisses.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" The carefulness of his tone settles a sense of comfort within your distorting bones, riddling you with a thudding that fails to dissipate.

That falls into the commotion that collides with your soul.

"More than anything," Swirling with integrity, you feel the sensation of his lips, so precisely slipping towards the sight of your breasts.

His eyes lick upon the sight with such grace, before his lips softly brush upon the supple surface above — a tender moan encouraging his lips further.

Falling into the cage of the blissful, melodious sounds of his favourable kisses and your harsh gasps, you feel his lips trickle down to the volume of your breasts. His lips collide with the roundness of them, the soft skin forgivably at his mercy.

Eren noticeably worships the gentle skin, your breasts swell from your noticeable breastfeeding.

Observing the barely prominent lingerie, he carefully conducts you into falling into his grasp — a single hand of his holding a part of your smaller back.

With his motion in place, he enables his ability to designate his other hand upon the bra clips, completely loosening the entirety of them.

The loosening sensation conducts a sense of fear within you, only for it to calm. To calm at each love-encouraged brush of his exemplary touch.

The sheer fabric remains no more than a shy cover of your supple breasts, only for Eren to bring his ample hand upon the fabric — carefully placing it upon the ground.

Inevitably, his pupils mature heavily wide towards the sight, the first piece of exposure thudding against his pained erection — encouraging your heart to thud rapidly.

Your spilt breasts are displayed, in front of his eyes. His lips grow parted with famish, his body so beautifully restraining itself, resisting the urge to use something that would completely crumple the sanity that your beautiful state upholds.

A beautiful state that grows positively unnerved towards the coveted nature he holds towards your breasts.

Naturally, Eren yearns to ravish them with a beautiful might — completely stirring the entirety of your sanity with his beautiful mouth.

"Your breast milk?" Eren questions with intrigue, his plush lips closing in on your breasts. His features so perfectly hover above your taut nipples, welcoming him to finally part his beautiful lips — wrapping his lips around your perfect-looking bud.

"S-Suck it," Whimpering relentlessly at his movements, you draw your hands to the back of his dishevelled hair — relishing the intensity of his gentle sucks.

His wholehearted sucks welcome you into releasing a slight yelp, your fingers harshly wrapping around his hair — particularly whilst he softly engulfs your breast milk.

"S-So much milk," His nature grows enveloped by this study, leading him to narrow his cheeks, swallowing every ounce — encouraged by the sweetness that tints it.

"Eren!" Stifling back your whims of sensitivity, your eyes flutter with a flustered state.

Giddily, your heart so dangerously thuds — glimpsing at his lips so casually upon your breast. Upon your breast whilst his eyes draw closed. Draw closed at the sound of your moans.

"Shit," He murmurs, pulling back with a harsh popping sound. His breathing is effortlessly reckless, his lips tainted with breast milk — the entirety of your breast swirling with the aftermath of his content sucking.

Eren softly licks his lips, running his tongue upon your leaking nipple, shifting his lips down. He feels you suck in your stomach, your laboured breaths completely at his mercy. Not a single ounce of him fails to infiltrate the pathway of your stomach, planting kisses upon such lithe skin.

His lips caress each squirming spot, hovering so close to an ample scar. A scar that completely overruns a portion of your stomach, leaving you rather self-conscious. Self-conscious of the planted acts of affection.

"I love you, sweetheart," His usage of sweetheart causes you to further shift his hair aside, growing nervous towards his lips casting lower and lower. Lower to the point his warm tongue completely occupied your lingerie that leans against the base of your cunt.

His lips brush upon the fabric, his heart so soft and erratic — tugging at the hems of your beautiful underwear.

"I love you, too," Aging into a smitten state, you draw your lips sealed — feeling his fingers entwine with the heart of the damp fabric. His fingers slowly bundle up the fabric, revealing the arousal that clings so mightily upon the lower midst of the fabric.

"I just want to fuck you so good," Eren whines out, observing the sight of your pooling cunt — a prettiness heavily associated with it.

The sight causes him to grow stunned at the exposure, so grateful for a future like this. A future he only ever saw himself so deeply enveloped within.

"I want you to cum inside of me," The words you spew are words that are completely drowned out the moment he completely rolls the entirety of your lingerie, planting it so effortlessly away from your legs.

"I don't mind that," Eren so desperately parts the suppleness of your legs, his fingers slipping toward s your sopping cunt — parting your completely drenched folds.

Effortlessly, Eren's features grow so heavily into a beautiful look of admiration, all before he welcomes himself into pushing his lips against the slight — his tongue settling so effortlessly upon the soppiness of your cunt.

His tender tongue runs along the frilliness of your folds, the flatness of his tongue introducing itself. The sensation causes you to sow your shaky fingers upon his tender tresses of hair, applying your head back at the tension he applies.

Lovingly, his lips unlawfully travel towards your clit, wrapping so innocently around them — eliciting a moan from you. A moan from your choppily breathing self, unable to steady your lips — an unethical orgasm face slipping upon your features.

"Eren!" Grinding your untamed hips upon his pleased features, he succumbs to his heavenly fate, "Just...like that!" Cooing at the softness of his worthy touch, your head so effortlessly tilts back — your frail heart pounding so accordingly.

"Ah! Mhm! Yes!" Carefully needing the severity of his hair, your whimpers completely encourage the movement of Eren's unfaltering tongue.

His tongue stretches across the severity of your parted folds, sucking so eagerly upon them — relishing the recoil. The recoil whilst you squirm in admiration, grasping, wheezing, writhing, your free hand blessing the heart of the thick bedding fabric.

"You taste so good," He murmurs, his vibrations jolting into your sensitive cunt.

They cause you to further place his head against the momentum of your hips, grasping onto his head to control such an intimate narrative.

"'M all yours!" Your eyes fall into a hive of indefinite tears, safeness overtakes you. Safeness whilst his tongue and lips occupy your thudding clit, painting out a beautiful sensation that moons the beauty of his movements.

Just the messy, intimate sounds of his careful slopping, lapping the entirety of your soppy cunt, further fuels the painful clutter within your haphazardous stomach. The way his lips remain concealed against your cunt, his expression jaded. Jaded so heavily whilst slickness overwhelmed the entirety of his lips and a tint of his jaw.

His broad nose is so gleefully buried within your exuberant pussy, his features gliding with the commandment of your clutching fingers — readied towards his beautiful, intimate acts.

His face remains as no more than a pleasure-inducing supplement for you. A beautiful, flustered face that's eyes flutter — so addicted to the soppiness of your perfect, him-crafted cunt. One that his coated lips are unable to pry from, efficiently stirring a beautiful pounding from his eventless cock.

"'Need more," At your words, Eren draws his nimble fingers towards the heart of your cunt — his fingers so beautifully prodding against the vulnerability of it.

This huge step is encouraged by you, specifically with the way you hint towards being so effortlessly met with a beautiful fullness — encouraging your body to give way for the entirety of him.

The entirety of him splitting you open, welcoming the unearthed heart of another.

Clearing the hesitation he holds towards his ample finger size, his fingers pick up on your raging slickness — softly applying pressure upon your entrance.

At the anticipation, you grow heavily delightful — feeling his fingers slower grow present against you. They begin to stretch out your cunt, welcoming a squeamish sensation to penetrate you — only for a gentle pleasure to envelop you. Envelop you whilst his fingers further make their way within you, splitting you open with each gasp.

Clutching further upon the dishevelled sheets, your head rolls back with such insufferable ease — the fullness of his fingers completely capturing the entirety of you. Capturing you in a way that welcomes many clustered moans, specifically with the manner his fingers embedded within you — granting you warmth.

A warmth that leaves your lips parted.

"So warm," Eren lets out, his lips discovering your clit once more, his fingers beginning to gift you teasing thrusts. Teasing thrusts that welcome you to jolt your hips with enthralment, your moans capturing his ears, tearing through the sanity he holds.

At the monitored scenery of a mewling you, your brows creased, your heart overtaken with love, your eyes clouded, and your mind seized of control, you could only free chaotic moans. Moans that completely stain Eren's erection with further pain, incapable of losing himself within you — for the first time.

Well, with anyone.

"'M gonna cum!" Incapable of handling the warmth of his fingers, pounding your squelching cunt, you grow a moaning mess, thrashing so vigorously — only the terms of a release freeing you from this pleasure-worthy role.

A pleasure-worthy role that completely belittles your cunt with beauty.

"Mhm," Eren flutters out, his fingers aligned with the pace of his clit sucking — warming you so effortlessly.

Just the thought of him, his heart so contagious with love towards you, thoroughly reassures you with a beaming comfort.

A comfort that leaves a sensation that is unable to be strayed away from, pounding in the same way as his fulfilling fingers — havocking within the haven of your stomach. Your stomach in a method that leaves you choppily moaning, your limbs so ethical — in response to his natural gloss of touch.

"I...love you," The thunderous moans that you release plague his ears, all whilst his fingers set a delicate pace within you.

A pace that works up the entirety of your heart, your chest rolling vigorously — his thrusting so beautifully in tune with your nature.

"I love you, too," The knowingness of his word return completely fuels the gentleness within your heart, encouraging you to further relish the sensation of his fingers.

The sensation tugs against the knot you hold within your stomach, tearing away at the sanity you hold.

"Eren!" The phenomenon bleeds further within your stomach, ethically whisking the tension elsewhere — the tension of finishing on his warm tongue.

The pressure encourages you to attempt to warn the entirety of him, only for him to grow continually — grasping onto your thrashing hips.

He holds you with an ethical closeness, his fingers completely embedded within the entirety of your lithesome hips.

The skin grows tamed beneath his touch, unable to shy away — completely submissive to the entirety of him.

"'M gonna finish!" Unravelling such a gentle sensation within you, you throw your head back, your tears so beautifully natural — streaming down your face. Streaming down your features with lulling ease.

With an ease that causes your heart to swirl with peace, an ounce of recklessness overtakes you.

"So good!" Freeing the pent-up sensation, you feel the entirety of it settle upon his tongue — so beautifully applied to his warm tongue. His fingers carefully thrust once more, all before he welcomes a moan from your gentle lips.

At your abruptness, you gasp with a beautifulness, one that completely twirls his stomach with glee. Twirls his stomach whilst he pulls his ample fingers out of you, his cum-glossed fingers and lips, so effortlessly combined.

His viridian eyes fail to waver, intaking the effortlessly breathily sight of you — panting so choppily.

Your lips fail to rejoice, hinting towards the tiredness you have accumulated. From your nervousness, from your joy, from the heart of such an elegant experience.

"I'm...sorry," Eren's viridian eyes widen towards your apologetic words, whilst his vast fingers swirl within his mouth — the sensation something he can't help but relish. But relish whilst your heart grows heavily fond towards the entirety of him, your tears of nervousness helping to aid such a large encounter.

"Don't apologise," Eren inches closer to the entirety of you, his body so attentive towards the shape of your emotions — being sure to puzzle himself in a nature that gifts you comfort.

"You've done so well," His body beautifully cages you, his forehead so set upon your own. Innately welcoming the heart of your emotions and his diligent ones.

"What if it's not enough for you?" Your words cause his worrisome expression to further carve into a state of sadness, his cheeks being grasped upon by the entirety of you.

"You've always been more than enough for me," Eren's breathing hitches so freely, his love so unwavering, "Being with you is the best thing that could have ever happened to me," You listen to him speak of you with such pride, "Everything you do is enough for me to smile, to feel warm, to be in love." His hearty words elicit further tears, only for them to be replaced with gentle kisses.

"Thank you, Eren," Planting a gentle kiss upon his lips, you smear your nose upon his own — your forehead so beautifully upon his own.

In a manner that welcomes you both to relish the sound of the swaying trees and the gentleness of the environment, along with him enabling your emotions — in a way that allows you to also validate him.

"And, am I enough for you?" He teases you back, his closeness igniting a soft chuckle from you — welcoming the beauty of the two of you.

The two of you have always been like this, so beautifully close, along with being so in tune with one another.

"You're more than enough for me," Your fingers tint his cheek further, slightly sinking into the supple skin — observing the crimson hue bloom so effortlessly.

Effortlessly, he cranes his head further towards you — his smitten heart completely enveloping your heart.

He is everything.

"Good," Eren's heart grows fathomable happy towards your words, permitting your heart to swirl so freely. To pierce your heart with the beauty of such known words.

"Eren, I want you to..." Growing embarrassed at your words, Eren could only console you with a beautifulness.

Thrilled, his roaring heart develops into an energetic state towards your words —leaving him to smear gentle kisses upon your lips.

He captures every lone thought you hold.

"I want to give you head, though," Your words cause him to merely smile down at you, his nose crinkling with love — painting him out so gently.

"Not until we have sex," His gentle announcement enables the realism of his words to channel the beauty of the situation, allowing the realness of it all to grow so beautifully known.

"Trousers down, Eren," Pulling away from the entirety of you, he brings himself to exhibit a clear sight of him — his fingers tinting the looseness of the hem of his nightwear.

"Anything for you," Intaking the softness of his words, he brings himself to carefully slip his trousers down.

Carelessly, flustered by the attention you gift him, Eren prospers so egotistically.

He remains flaunting the entirety of his taut muscles, his prominent erection, and the rare beauty of his toned legs — subtle bristles of hair tinting the delicate region.

"Eren..." Your lips equip shock.

Hazy, you observe the mere sight of a nervous him — his precum-stained underwear tinting your adrenaline-enhanced being.

Eren's eyes shift away with nervousness, leaving you aflame with such admiration and respect — so delicately encircled by the sight of his beautifully whittled self.

He honed his angelic traits; his movements so mesmerisingly constructed.

"Don't get nervous now, you're almost there," Smiling at the beauty of his crimson cheeks, you draw your cheeks into a puffy state — basking in the beauty of his unnerved self.

"You're making me nervous," Blooming with a heavenly smile, you intake the sight of Eren — tugging at his navy boxers.

Eren lingers, slightly hesitant before he drags the fabric down — entitling you additional access to his tumultuous v-line.

"And you're making me more nervous, especially with how big you're looking," Eren tilts his gaze with trepidation, his stares growing exceptionally soft.

"I'm apologising for my size," Eren's sincere words cause you to smear your thighs together, watchful towards the scenery of his teasing movements. Movements that work up a temperate gutsiness within you.

"I'll handle it," As your words tumble, at mercy within his pounding ears, he allows himself to finally release his grip on his boxers — revealing his ample size.

A size that causes your brows to crease with slight worry, observant of each twitching vein, his neatly trimmed pubs — along with his beautifully tanned tip.

He's big.

"I'll be there, every step of the way," His tone welcomes a reckless emotion within you, particularly whilst he inches closer, his ample size completely the only thing that controls the emotions you hold.

It causes you to seize hold of his bedsheets, your lips growing distraught with excitement.

"Spoil me," Eren takes your words into account, his body looming over the entirety of you. His demeanour welcomes you into carelessly laying down, the entirety of you so breathlessly beautiful — your features encapsulating the entirety of him.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Softly, Eren's words console any nerves you hold — particularly whilst he spreads a searing kiss upon your lips.

His eyes so effortlessly hold your own, despite the both of your nudity so eagerly on display.

A few years ago, this wouldn't have been possible.

"When have I never been ready for you?" Shifting his lips away from your own, he slightly contorts the entirety of his body —bringing himself to part your nervous legs.

Star-filled, he glimpses at the sight of your pooling cunt. Eren's breaths are so beautifully ragged at the sight.

His only goal is to completely unravel you towards the art of pleasure.

"That's for you to decide," Heavenly moonlight adorns streaks of your goddess-enhanced body; you feel him assure you that your body will be heavily taken care of.

A temple that his heart forever hopes to positively polish, to aid you with the budding commotion within the nature of your life.

"I'm all yours, Eren," So delicately emitting your words, you take note of the designation of his hand, so confidently palming his girth dick.

The sight of it causing your cunt to beat so wholeheartedly. It craves the entirety of him, yet he lingers so close yet so effortlessly far away.

"I know you are," Carefully conducting his movements, he wraps your nimble legs around his toned waist — his perturbation so inevitable.

"Take your time," Slightly gasping at the feeling of his broad tip, tinting the pattern of your folds — softly sinking behind the soppiness of your cunt — he intakes your every motion.

"We'll have many more moments like this," Gasping so effortlessly, at the pressure he emits, you so delicately gesture for him to split the entirety of you further open — welcoming a fullness.

Your brows twitching at the beautiful feeling, your lips splaying open with recklessness, your head throwing so cloudily back, you feel the sensation of his largeness.

Eren's largeness completely breaks the sexual barriers you were once unable to penetrate.

The sensation elicits an array of moans, whimpers, and lustful words from the both of you — the warmth and fullness pairing so effortlessly.

As he further penetrates your wailing cunt, you are unable to conceal the thunderous commotion your stomach creates, your breathing choppy at the breathless fullness.

Only half of him lodges your cunt, with breathless moans from him, his panting, his whining and whimpering effortlessly caressing him.

The urge to just fill you with his cum fails to clear from his mind, specifically as this sensation is one that completely conceals any sanity the both of you hold.

"Eren!" Feeling him lower his body, to reign the slot beside your neck, he plants his head within the area — softly bucking his hips further.

Safely, he feels the urge to slightly collapse into the safeness of the feeling — his limps yearning to crumble into the sensation of your exuberant cunt. One that stretches so beautifully around him, thudding towards the entirety of your clenching — the soppiness of your arousal pooling against his thick cock.

"Y/n!" Muffling the entirety of your name, he sports open lips, the softness of them tinting your neck. Tinting your neck whilst he adjusts his cock structure towards whenever you yearn to enlist his pounding within your mind.

"Tell me when you are ready," Gulping at the thickness, the closeness, and the safety of him, you grow warm at the fullness of his pulsating dick — especially it resting so safely within your clutching cunt.

"I'm ready," Eren softly kisses your supple neck; his lips momentarily brush upon the curve of your jaw.

"Eren, don't forget," Emotions envelop the conversation, "This is your first time, so I'm going to also love you all over." With your words known to his you-infested ears, he brings himself to carefully pull the entirety of him out of you — abruptly slotting himself inside of your fluttering cunt.

"Eren!" Incapable of intaking the sensation of his dick, you begin to freely moan. Moan at the feeling of him entrusting a pace upon you, his whimpers swarming your ears.

Your heart grows juicy with such ever-growing love, encouraging your eyes to grow lidded — the warmth within your cunt wounding your sanity so deeply.

"Ah! So deep! Yes! Yes!" Feeling his hips gather an athletic momentum, you release a sharp gasp.

Safely, the feeling of him just growing deeper inside of you, at each love-encrusted thrust, warms your abdomen with a pleasurably sore sensation.

"You're so...fucking warm!" Eren cloudily murmurs within your ear, his lips quivering upon the curve of your neck — his hips bucking into your cunt.

You age into a frenzied state, struggling to straighten out your choppy breaths.

His hips collide so beautifully with your cunt, packing it effortlessly with an added fullness — completely winding you of your breathing.

Naturally, you beautifully squirm against the sensation, your lips sculpted into a permanent 'o'. Pathetically, your clustered sounds remain unable to be formed into a coherent word — along with his own.

His brunette tresses of hair completely bury your features with the sensation of him. Down to his gentle scent, his beautiful notions, and his thick dick, nudged between your moulding hips.

His thrusts completely fill you, at each turn. They leave your brows strained, your neck thrown further back, your eyes completely rolled back, your drool so embarrassingly slipping from your lips.

"'Want you... to use me! Fill me!" Whining at the magical thrusts he stuffs you with, you let out a few half breaths, the overwhelming sensation of his cock unravelling every content comment you make.

Your comments hint at your desperation, unable to handle how he had always been so great at everything he did — his intimate gestures completely enveloping your sanity.

"Get me pregnant!" Eren's breathing falters at your words, his thrusts growing rather harsh — bubbling a drunken feeling within you.

The macaroni-imitating sounds, the squelching of your cunt, and the lewdness of his and your moans — completely grow dismissed by your ears.

The sensation is the only thing your mind can focus on.

"Fuck! Don't...tempt me!" His softened whimpers, his gruff mewls of focus, completely allow his words to flow.

They flow with randomness whilst he swirls your cunt with a puffiness, his pounding creating an insufferable warmth — leaving your head to sway side to side. To sway, incapable of handling the largeness of his dick, his pounding, along with the thickness of him so prominent within your stomach.

"Hgh! Too warm!" You weep out, your body too overly warm, attempting to pry away such an overstimulating sensation.

However, you wrap your legs further around Eren's lower back — so desperate to keep his beautiful pounding afloat.

Not once had he wavered, his dick still so effortlessly fucking you so whorishly — dissipating the sense of sanity you hold.

"You're...doing so well, sweetheart," He gruffly let out, his arms now wrapping around your head, his low eyes focusing on the entirety of your cloudy expression.

He observes the horny smile that captures your lips, your eyes barely meeting his own, fuelling the arousal you felt.

"You're...so...ah!" Moaning at the entirety of his harsh thrusts, completely spreading tingles upon you, you grow starry with pleasure.

Your limbs grow rather erratic with the unregistered recklessness, your moans growing unpredictable, ragged, and increasingly vociferous.

Fittingly, your mind grows belonging to someone else — your awareness of the situation narrowing down to this building-up sensation within you.

One that leaves you letting out cries.

"That's...it!" With reality blurred, you grow heavily focused on the planted feeling.

Every fibre of your words is slurred, your boisterous moans being swallowed by the sensation of Eren's lips. Your eyes roll back with ease, the tingly sensation welcoming the pressure to roughly slip from your cunt.

You cry out at the freeing sensation, your limbs growing numb — a silence washing over the entirety of you.

Lazily, you cling to the entirety of a pounding Eren, his coveted pace increasing the sensitivity within you — attacking your love spot.

A spot that completely stole away at the air in your lungs, particularly whilst you are gaining awareness of what occurred — your panting growing to worry his withering state.

He grows rather tired, but a fitting sensation enveloped the entirety of him.

"An...orgasm," The tiredness you hold is completely sensed by him, welcoming him to wholly brand your features with intimacy-enhanced kisses. Kisses that are barely reciprocated by you, particularly with the way you are still so out of it — unable to repair yourself from the orgasm and his continuous pounding.

One you didn't want to stop.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Eren's eyes widen with swiftness, only before growing low once more, the entirety of his body inhabiting a full sensation.

A tightness engulfs his lower half, placing a heaviness to engorge his being.

His sweat-enhance brows swell with intensity, his hips growing so effortlessly rapid, stealing off-guard moans from you. His pants grow so contorted with a rapidness, his eyes welling with tears, spilling upon the entirety of your tear-endured features.

Your parted lips fail to close, especially with another lingering tight sensation. The unbearable sensation leaves him barely coherent, his closeness being encouraged by a completely overwhelmed you.

Your ring of ivory cum coats his cock, beating against the entrance of your pussy. Cream bubbles form within the aflame area, all whilst he continues to treat the puffiness of your cunt — staining it further with the sensation of his hips.

He momentarily stills his hips before taking long thrusts, burying himself to a selfish angle — straining your overstimulated body.

A proud smile overtakes your lips, particularly whilst he glimpses down at you, his hips failing to unravel their franticness.

Letting out an animalistic growl, Eren huffs and puffs, carelessly bucking his lips. His movements are failing to falter, particularly with the way the firmness completely conceals the entirety of his comfort.

His pounding completely leaves you dumb-founded, your expression so whorishly displayed, your never-ending drool so prominent to his viridian eyes. He fails to fully acknowledge the moment, fucking you so deep, holding this deepness — his thick balls slapping against the bottom of your overworked cunt.

He continues to pound so harshly, approving of his lips to vigorously shake — whenever he meets his deepest position.

None of this harmed your being, it only inched you into a series of erratic moans, whimpers, cries, and whines. He could see the pleasurable tears in your glassy eyes, your jaded smile so effortlessly prominent.

The sensation of his engorged lower half falls into a rhythmic twitching, one that fails to find a controlled movement.

His thrusts grow pleasurably rough, his grunting and ample moans completely enveloping his being.

Inherently, his glistening sweat meets his warm forehead. Recklessly, the ample bed trembles so rapidly, the two of you so breathlessly encompassed within the moment.

Feeling the sensation grow so corrupt within him, he pulls back and thrusts his deepest within you, filling you with every inch of his girthy dick. Your stomach churns at the sensation, only before he gifts your barely coherent ears a strained whine, a pulsing sensation entering his cock.

The feeling of his cock twitching within you surrounds your being; a delectable hardness enfolds your desperation.

A series of your groans, whimpers and moans capture the essence of his ears, only before the rapid pulsating grows swapped out with an intensity.

An intensity that resembles a firm shot. A firm shot that causes you to jolt, aware of his sensation of finishing inside of you.

"Ah! Fuck!" Eren beautifully whines out, his features scrunching whilst he views your parted lips — his lips in sync with the motion of your own.

"Y/n..." Eren's mutter causes you to feel a second sentiment within you, another spurt of cum completely overwhelming your soppy cunt.

Multiple substances slowly begin to drip, particularly with the way he collapses against you — redirecting a singular hand to slip his ample dick from your cunt.

The sensation welcomes a wet sound to infiltrate the environment, only for your cunt to twitch on the entirety of nothing — a lonesome sentiment infiltrating your being.

A tender sadness envelopes you, bringing you to relish the sensation of Eren — dressing his arms around a weeping you. One who begins to cry in the aftermath of intimacy, just as you invariably did.

In fear of being left unattended after intimacy.

"You've done so well, and I love you so much," Eren alters the positioning of the two of you, his body coddling the entirety of your state.

The cries you release dissipate the fact that his thick cum continues to leak out of you, staining the soft sheets you are both positioned upon.

"You've also done so well," Your lips completely enclose the entirety of Eren's, your fingers threading through his hair —despite him safely holding you. Safely planting his hand upon your plush ass.

"Please, just don't leave me," Your eyes well with tears, colliding with an experience you hold, "I just don't want to be left alone after sex." The desperation you spew causes Eren to hold you closer, his heart aching at the irreversible damage Armin had mentally planted upon you — leaving you to fear the entirety of every intimate situation you hold.

Eren has seen the aftermath of what Armin had put you through. Too many times. He wasn't going to lose you, this time.

"You're mine," Eren kisses the top of your head, "You, me and Elara are a family," His words warm your heart ferociously, welcoming your heart towards his genuine words.

"Thank you, Eren," Making sure to also comfort his state, you draw your lips upon his own — so grateful that your life is set to flourish with your best friend.

"Let me get us cleaned up," His carefree nature completely seals over the fears you hold towards your future, your heart growing so calm and set upon the beauty of this budding relationship.

—

do not copy my work; all rights reserved. vampiified, 2024.

[wakeup01]

A Matching Pair

Goddammit. Why does he always have to argue about it. Can’t he ever put himself in my shoes and try and be more understanding.” I mumble to myself as my boyfriend fades out of sight down the empty train car. I sigh and stare out the window of the train, listening to the world outside shudder past.

“This space free?” Comes an excited voice, I look up to see a fit young guy casually drop onto the seat opposite me. He looked no older than 22 and was outfitted for some kind of sports game, with a designer tracksuit sagging off his hips, a red jersey that pressed against his lean stomach and a glossy puffer jacket.

“Uhhh…not really.” I remark, side-eying his trendy permed hair, perfectly styled and faded. I had never really understood the appeal of…‘fuckboys’; rich but devoid of personality - aside from the prepackaged one they adopt. In this case even I had to admit that he was rather attractive, in a blunt, dumb ‘grammer is for losers’ sort of way. There was a casual air of confidence in the way he carried himself, narcissistic? Sure, but maybe a little ego didn’t hurt, especially in the bedroom.

Shame he obviously wouldn’t be a sub - he’d look nice around my cock, although I can picture my boyfriend tripping over himself to placate his every whim. The perks of this ‘open relationship’ we had seemed increasingly one sided. Ugh. I’m quickly reminded of our argument, and my indignation wins out over my misguided lust.

“Mate, you look proper mad.” He chuckles, kicking off his trainers. He stretches out his legs and rests them on the seat next to mine.

“Name’s Dominic and I’m not….mad.” My voice trails off.

“Uh oh. Who is she then blud?” He gestures at me with his hands, rattling the horde of bracelets that buried his wrists.

“He.”

“Pftt. I should ‘av guessed. It’s all the same to me. I’m Trev ‘btw’. You off to the gay convention?” There’s a wry smile that is hard to be angry at, in fact I feel strangely comfortable with him. He seemed like a good listener.

“Funny, but yes. Meeting our friend Nate there.” I cross my arms in a futile attempt to appear more dominant.

“Wait, they have those now?” My eyes squint at him. “Just fucking with you. I got a game the next town over. I’m a player.”

“Wow, you don’t say.”

“Maybe you’ve seen me play on the tele eh?” He puts on a face and flashes his shiny white teeth proudly.

“Sure…” He was in a professional team? Like I’d know.

“So spill, what’s the issue with yuh ‘boy’? His ‘bussy’ too small?” My mouth begins to move before I really get the chance to think about what I’m saying, or why I’m telling him at all.

“Ugh. He just never tries to see things from my perspective, he always expects me to play the ‘top’. About everything. And I don’t share his weird kinks.”

“TMI. Oh. You’re the top? And your name is Dom? ‘Lolz’. Is your boy called SUBastian?” He laughs mischievously. His brazen use of text speech was strangely endearing, something I thought impossible.

“Dominic. And no, his name’s Addy.” I correct, flatly.

“Uh huh. Yeah, and have you tried the same? See things from Addy’s point of view. Find equal ground right. Maybe I can help. It’s like when there’s a disagreement in our footy team.”

“I don’t think it’s quite the same thing…”

“Should give it a try Dom, see how it feels to be the sub. It can be fun to let someone else take charge. Easy too when you don’t overthink it. Go on, just lay back and relax.” Yes, I’m sure this will solve all our problems. I humour him anyway, resting my back against the seat’s cushion. Ten seconds pass in silence, just the hum of the train carriage throbbing rhythmically.

“This is stupid-“

“Shush.” Trev stares at me intently, trapping my eyes into his own. I don’t think to look away, why would I. He continues talking, I hear the words floating past me but don’t register what they are. It feels like minutes until his fingers snap in front of his face, and the spell is broken. He just smiles and waits expectantly for me to reply. His legs move from the seat next to me and I follow their movement.

“I—I guess.” I stutter, unsure of what I’m replying to, feeling slightly dizzy, like waking from a dream. For some reason my eyes seem drawn to his feet, now resting on the edge of my own seat, fidgeting between my thighs. I didn’t notice that they were sockless before… or that they were so big.

“Deeper.” He snaps his fingers again. My eyes are feeling so heavy, it’s becoming harder to keep them open. “Picture your boy sitting in your place. See it in your head.” I think about him, see his dreamy smile, like the one growing on my face. “So easy.” Trev repeats, my head nodding absently to his words. He adjusts and pushes his feet against my groin. Hmmf. I should tell him to stop. To stop…

“Uhh.” The dull sound leaves my lips instead of the words I wanted, the rubbing sensation fraying the edges of my thoughts.

Trev’s fingers fiddle at his pockets. He pulls out a vape stick and blows a huge bubblegum flavoured cloud of smoke into my face. The fumes flow through my open mouth and circle my head. His hands appear to be moving in slow motion, like everything was suddenly at half speed.

“Being in charge is exhausting huh. Much better to just relax and follow along, like your boyfriend would.” Yeah, he would probably do whatever this guy asked him to.

“I bet he’d rub my feet If I told him to.”

“Yeah.” I agree, wrapping my hands around Trev’s chunky feet - he definitely would. I run my fingers up and down his sole, picturing my boyfriend in this situation.

“Eyes up here fam.”

*snap*

I look back up at him, falling into his stare once more, entranced. My hands continue to massage him, passing over the curves and arches of his large feet. The shame of doing this in a public place completely lost on me. “Good foot boy.” I fail to hold back a moan at the validation. Is this what it feels like? It feels…nice, good.

I sense my body start to slowly lean forward of its own volition. Trev loudly exhales, his lips pursing. Another dose of bubblegum mist fogs my view. “What else would your boy do?”

“Don’t know…”

“Bet he’d love to sniff my lush feet hm?”

Probably, I think. He was way more kinky than me about such things. This guy’s feet were quite ripe after all, maybe if I got a bit closer…no—no what am I doing? I begin to pull back when his intense eyes narrow at me.

“It’s okay. I can see you want to take a whiff too. Boy.” His inflection changed on the last word. There was something about the way he said it. Powerful.

“My—my boyfriend will be-“ My voice cracks.

“Put your fucking nose here. And sniff my cheesy feet.” He orders, accentuating each word, dropping all pretence - his finger snapping and pointing down.

It’s like a switch being pressed in my head. The words cut like a knife right through any lingering hesitation. My face lowers and inhales deeply, sucking up his harsh scent.

“Yeah.” I mumble from behind his feet in a daze.

“Yeah what?”

*snap snap*

“Yes sir.” I don’t know why I said it, it just slipped from my lips and then it was too late to take it back. Too late to stop, as my face leans down to his foot like a magnet. Too late to pretend I didn’t want a sniff, my nostrils breathing the thick musky air.

“A good start boy.” I tentatively take a couple more whiffs, a part of me still attempting to hold back, feeling self aware. He rolls his eyes and shoves his feet forcefully into my face, my nose pushed snugly between his big toe. His stench shrouds my head like a cloud. The concept of ‘disgusting’ faded to nothingness.

“Salt and vinegar flavour, your fav.” Trev asserts. It became true the moment the words left his lips. Salty and eye watering. My favourite. My cock liked it too apparently.

“You look so much better under me, worshiping me - where you belong. Keep going.” And I did. Breathing deeply, in and out. In and out. The heat from his foot radiates outwards, travelling down my body, seeping into my skin. “Wouldn’t your boy agree to be at my feet at all times If that’s what I wanted?” He—I would. I want nothing else.

“Of course sir.” I say, unaware that the words would seal my fate.

Something is changing. A shift in weight. My whole body starts to feel lighter, filling with air. My skin itches, a rash forming across it’s surface - bleaching every inch an even, clean white. The rash crawls down my chest, flattening my modest set of abs, leaving everything it touches incredibly soft, absorbent and flexible. Tiny strands of fuzzy cotton fabric poke out from each pore; the changes showed no sign of stopping.

Everything is happening all at once, alarms try and go off in my brain but it’s preoccupied swimming in a musky drunken stupor. My feet seem to leave the floor as my form inexplicably shrinks, the length of my arms folding inwards as my body simplifies.

“Look at you bruv. You were easy as fuck.” I gaze up at him, his smug face towering over me, looking so far away. A puff of vape smoke floats down towards me, particles dissolving on my cushioned skin. The sweet aroma mixes with the smell of his sour feet. “Just one look into my eyes and you were done. Get socked bro.”

Trev started to appear bigger and bigger, his feet dwarfing my new size, now taking up my whole view. It was like my essence was being pulled around his foot. My mouth opens and his toes slip effortlessly inside, stretching me out and making themselves at home. The rest of his foot follows, his ankle resting at my opening. It sets off my gag reflex momentarily, before feeling perfectly natural, like I was tailor made for his foot.

“Sorry bud, they’re a size 13.”

The taste of his potent sole explodes into me. I’m violently shaken out of my trance-like haze, the world around me speeds up. I try and desperately pull away, lucidity returning like a slap to the face. Why am I on the floor? Why is his foot in my mouth?! Oh shit oh shit!

“Get socked!” Trev yells enthusiastically. “Get fucking socked!”

Control is slipping away. My skin pulls taut around his foot, the fabric digging between his toes. It feels as though every part of me is pressed against him, his warmth surrounding me. My new shape settles into place, defined by his smooth curves.

I can’t move my ‘body’ at all, but all my senses still persist…somehow. My blurry vision clears, a sudden shift in view makes me disoriented. It’s as if I have a pov of the room from the bottom of Trev’s foot, he lowers it to the floor and my worldview erratically drops to carpet level before going dark. The material of the carpet brushes against me, the strange sensation is embarrassingly pleasing; bringing attention to the absence of my cock. Relief now seemed impossible.

“Socked. Man, I love that initial freshness. Tbh, it makes the inevitable even more fun.”

He pushes the weight of his foot into me, his sweaty soles sticking to my tight fabric body. It feels humiliating to be literally stuck on the ground. His stench clings to me, soaking me in his foot musk. The imprint of his toes yellowing my surface. It’s like having his foot down my throat, perpetually swallowing his mind numbing sweat.

“Mmm that’s good, you hang so tightly. A perfect fit. Hope you like sucking on my rank fucking toes. Cuz now you’re just my stinky ripe sock. Fucking idiot. Can’t wait to get you worn in.”

That’s not possible, I can’t be a sock…it defies logic. This is a nightmare I’m about to wake up from, any second now…any second…

He pulls at me and stretches my ribbed opening up and over his tracksuit, stuffing the silky material into me.

“So much more… pliable.” Trev wiggles his toes and my body conforms to it’s every movement, lodging in between each one. I try and desperately struggle, do something. I manage to achieve a light wriggle that only helps pull myself tighter against his skin.

Trev lifts his foot and points it towards the window, the dark night air rushing past outside. A clear reflection echoes back. I stare at it in disbelief, wanting to blink the reality from my eyes. A caricature of my shocked face is crudely printed on the underside of the sock - trapped frozen in time, with the word ‘SNIFF’ sewn into the fabric. The material was already beginning to discolour. Logic or not, That’s all I am now - a cheap white sock. His sock. An object.

“Basic as fuck boy makes basic as fuck sock. Lit.” He points out, smirking in the reflection while he checks out his new kit. Trev puts his feet back up on the seat, letting me watch the empty space where I had been sitting - back when I was more than just his property.

“Enjoy the view, while you can cheesy. You’re going to spend most of your time staring at the floor, or the inside of my fumigated sneaker.” What joy. I hadn’t even thought about that, about what comes next. Surely he didn’t plan to keep me like this? “Hmm. I think the name Dominic is a bit too fancy for you now, how about…sock. Simple, to the point.” Trev steps me back against the ground, his heel slightly raised. “Suits you, don’t you think sock?”

Light footsteps thud from down the carriage, getting closer and closer. “Hey babe. I wanted to apologise, Nate thinks—who are you? Umm where’s my boyfriend?” Addy had returned, this was my chance.

I wanted to shout and cry out to him, to get his attention anyway possible. I conjured a barely audible rustle and then nothing. All it did was reinforce how small and subservient I now felt, forced to listen to my owner in silence.

“Oh he’s not gone far, cutie. Sit.”

I hear my boyfriend stammer from above. All it took was one compliment and he turned to putty. In most cases it was endearing, but right now I needed him to be anything but agreeable.

I feel the weight on me shift. I glide through the air again, Addy’s expression coming into view across from me, from us.

“He’s…” Addy looks me over curiously.

“Yep. He got socked.”

“Gosh. That’s…hot.” His cheeks blush.

WHAAT! You’ve got to be kidding me! Damn, why did he have to be so kinky when I need him to rescue me. I can recognise his horny face a mile away.

“Now it’s your turn. Look at my eyes.” Trev’s voice taking on a more serious tone. Addy’s eyes dart up, quickly becoming ensnared by Trev’s hypnotic gaze. No, please snap out of it. “Good, keep looking. Relax. Let me give you the deets. In a few minutes you’re gonna have the privilege of having my foot up your arse, sucking up my sweat as a thin piece of fabric like your bf. You’ll be my sock puppet, controlled completely by my foot. You can already feel my toes pushing at your mind. You want it. Say it.” Trev waves me back and forth, hypnotically.

“But…mmm,”

“Say it.”

*snap*

“I — I want to be your smelly sock puppet. Pleaseee Master.” He moans in a trance.

“Course you do.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Addy’s shorts were noticeably tenting, a wet spot forming at the tip. He was getting off on the idea! “Sock puppet. Look at your boy, read the word sewn into him. You know what to do.”

Addy’s head leans towards me, eclipsing my vision. His huge nose presses up against me, his eyes dilating. I can feel his wavering breath brush at my cotton skin. He did exactly what the sock - me, said to and sniffed. The hesitant whiffs quickly devolve into enthusiastic huffing.

“Babeee. Hmmf. You smell so niceee. Mmmm.”

“That’s an obedient sock sniffing sock puppet.” Trev assured him. ”Now onto the other one.” Addy moves away from my view, I can only see him shuffling at the edge of my narrow locked vision. “Ready to join him?”

“Yes masterrrr.” Addy’s voice slurs monotonously. “Enter me and take control. We’re both yours.” Like hell we are!

“I want you to lick this foot clean like a dirty dog before it becomes your new home.” I hear him start to slobber all over Trev. “Good puppet. Get socked.”

The sound of my boyfriend licking and moaning in heat continued for what felt like an eternity. There was nothing I could do but be suspended in the air like my owner deemed appropriate.

“It’s time to become a puppet. Turn around and spread that cute bubble butt. There we go, feel my foot enter your rear, filling you up, fucking your tiny brain. Ufff. Tight. Fuck. Let’s stretch you out, nice and wide. Ahh that’s better. Your hole clamping around my ankle. Yeah. Becoming soft and flexible. A sock puppet. A sweat guzzling, empty-headed, dirty filthy sock puppet.” I can just about see Addy’s head, craning back in pleasure as he’s foot fucked.

“Butt feels…Hnng my—my body…” Addy pants desperately.

“Now belongs to my fat fucking foot. SOCK. PUPPET.

“Pu—puppet.” Addy’s bobbing head pulls out of sight, compressing around the invader inside him.

“Sock puppet. Surrendered all free will. Sock puppet. Commanded by feet. What are you?”

“I’m a sock… a sock puppet. Mmmmf…I’m a soooommfff.”

His voice goes silent. I can only assume he’s turning into a perfect match for Trev’s other foot. The thought horrifies me, but also gets me a little excited. I glimpse a pristine white shape shudder next to me. Trev sits up and places both feet flat on the ground, in order to admire his new additions to the collection.

“Hell yeah. You two make the cutest pair. Glad I could help bring you ‘together’. And no more worries about disagreements ‘lmao’. Go on, kiss and make up.”

Trev bends his legs and points me at Addy’s new form, his lustful face captured on the socks sole; the word ‘LICK’ was immortalised above. I was for sniffing and he for licking, it made a bizarre kind of sense to my addled brain. He brings his feet together and rubs us both against each other, our ‘faces’ pressed closely. My mind blurs, the friction bringing searing white hot bliss. God it’s amazing. He was so soft! Please more. More! Babe. Don’t stop. Get socked!

Trev eventually pulls us apart, I watch the folds of Addy’s loose fabric pull taut, finalising his transformation. He made a cute sock, just like me. We were now on equal footing. Wait, what am I thinking? This is insane, I don’t want this! Was I stuck like this? Would it be really so bad? No, stop.

I realised that the smell was permeating my thoughts, twisting them. Knowing that didn’t change how good it felt, how good his touch felt, his musk.

“Don’t worry, when I go to replace you I’ll be sure to sell you on as a pair to one of my foot sluts. Let’s be honest, as socks go, you’re kinda ‘mid’ at best.” The comment did nothing to reassure me about turning back to human. “Man you gay nerds are so dumb, none of you can resist my scent. It’s like you want to be part of my fit. Even my sneaks gave more of a struggle than you two lovebirds. All I need now is some new undies to stretch over my ass and hug my fat dong and balls. Know anyone?” Trev pauses and then laughs to himself.

As each minute passed my mind became more subdued, it was relaxing, becoming content. The part that was angry, defiant, was shrinking. A bubbling happiness was slowly expanding within me. I did my best to push it back but with my senses overwhelmed, it was a seemingly losing battle. Addy was probably already loving every second of it.

“Let’s have some fun. Which one of you will make a good cum sock? Who am I kidding, you’ll both be great. But for now…”

He peels me free from his foot, holding me limply in the air. For a moment I feel incredibly empty, already missing his warmth. The disappointment is short lived; I’m quickly filled out as he pulls me over a stiff pole. His cock. His glorious thick shaft. I’m forced to swallow it whole, it’s tip poking at my edges.

With his hand around me he wanks me furiously, using me as sleeve. ‘Don’t enjoy it’, I shout internally. This sucks. This sucks! It’s hard to ignore the pleasure it brings the both of us. Oh god I’m being stretched out by him completely. It sucks. Sucks… this…mmm. Faster. Go faster! Fill me! Cum inside me, mark me as yours!

My sexy owners pumping reaches a crescendo, now with both hands thrusting me up and down. One final tug. A grunt. A twitch. Thick copious splooge unloads right into me, flooding my interior. His fuckboy seed is absorbed into me, my cotton body sucking up every drop. A dark patch spreads across me and crusts over as it dries. The bitter taste lingers, like the cum was sat on my tongue.

“Fuck me, that was sweet. But enough fun.” Trev pulls me off his dick and janks me back over his foot, his toes push against my cum stained dark spot, still damp.

Trev’s phone starts to ring with some loud trap song. “Trev. Yeah. Yeah mate. Course, you fucka. Be arriving soon. Mint, I got me some new gear too. Ace. Uh huh…K, chat tomorrow.”

What would have normally been inane babble to me made a concerning amount of sense, like his identity was somehow rubbing off on me.

He stands up, dragging something over to him with his other foot. I’m lifted high into the air, tauntingly hovering over his beat up shoe. I can’t help but look down at my future smelly prison. I don’t think my mind can take any more…

It didn’t help knowing that the sneaker was once a guy, now heavily used. It was like seeing a glimpse of my own fate. Mmmm.

“Let’s get you acquainted.”

I see the trainer hurtle towards me as I’m lowered to the floor. My edges slide effortlessly into the pungent confines of his sneaker, the thick stale air engulfing me. I’m pressed against the stained sole and squelch against it’s moist surface; the outline of his foot clearly indented into the material. My vision goes pitch black.

The stench is blasted at me from all sides. Fuck me. I don’t stand a chance against it, my mind is drowned beneath its waves. Sinking below as new, more simple desires emerge.

There’s a muffled sound of an announcement playing overhead. “Guess this is where we get off lads. I should probably warn you, me mates and I have a footie match tomorrow. And I don’t plan on removing you, after that I expect you won’t even want to be turned back. Not that I ever planned to. I’m sure you stinkheads don’t object? Sorted.”

I didn’t object, in fact, I— I think I was looking forward to it. My printed face would probably be completely yellow by the end of it, as it should. Mmm.

The weight of his foot lifts as I feel myself rise from the floor and then just as quickly I’m pushed back down to the ground. My boyfriend being subject to the same in tandem. A second later and it happens again and then again, each step the strength of his body squishes me against the shoes insole, which sticks to my surface. And each time, my brain is submerged in a pleasant sweaty haze, scattering whatever dim thoughts I had left. The weight flattening my mind to sodden mush. Rewarding me for fulfilling my role as his smelly, mindless sock, us both huffing at our owners beautiful addictive feet. Together.

“Maybe we should stop off at that gay convention first, see how many noses we can get pressed against you two while you get sucked dry. Plus, we could find that friend of yours to get wrapped around my big sweaty butt.”

Yeahhh…I bet Nate would make a perfect pair of fucking briefs.

[crab-people-overlord]

I was reading through someone else’s post who makes a great point about how both ‘Ginger Cow’ and ‘Humancentipad’ are both just…. painful episodes of Kyle suffering to watch, but how ‘Ginger Cow’ expands more on Kyle’s dynamics with the others so is an important one to not skip over. I already had an analysis of this episode queued up, but decided to share now lol.

What sets the two episodes apart is that ‘Humancentipad’ doesn’t really add much to any of the canon for the show, so you honestly don’t miss much if you skip that episode. It doesn’t really demonstrate any new dynamics or canon for any of them. We already know Cartman manipulates his mom and enjoys Kyle's suffering. And we already know Stan and others will try to help Kyle when he's in trouble. It's South Park business as usual.

But "Ginger Cow"? Even though this episode is similarly painful to watch, it’s very important in how it develops the relationships between ALL of the main four boys in relation to Kyle, especially the Kyle-Stan-Cartman triangle.

There's something very telling and interesting about how Cartman torments Kyle in this episode. It's not just his usual "ha ha Kyle suffers" routine - it's way more psychological and to an extent, more sophisticated than his usual tactics (funny to call breathing in farts sophisticated, but… eh, in the way he uses it as torture, it is). Cartman basically creates this whole elaborate scenario where Kyle has to CHOOSE to subject himself to humiliation, which is so much more twisted than just directly trying to cause him pain through the same remarks he usually does. He weaponizes Kyle’s own martyr complex against him, which is kind of genius in a fucked up way.

In the B plot, you have Kenny and Stan who just do not understand why Kyle is going along with Cartman’s whims. Stan has many scenes in which he confronts Kyle. He is genuinely trying to understand why Kyle is going along with this and not giving up - and Kenny to a lesser extent is in the background backing Stan up.

Stan tries many different tactics to get Kyle to stop succumbing to Cartman’s farting, and when he sees that Kyle is too stubborn to stop, he then tries to see where Kyle is coming from. He really respects Kyle, and in his mind, if Kyle won’t stop, there must be a reason for it, right? But Kyle won’t open up to the ‘why’ of it all. At one point, Stan starts his line of questioning again. “... Dude, we’ve been friends for a long time. Can you just at least tell me why you like Cartman’s farts so much?.... You like… how they smell? How they taste?.... Should I try them?”

He offers to try them himself to understand, which is WILD lmfao. But he just genuinely is so confused as to why Kyle is letting himself be tortured to the point that he offers to go try it as well, and if that isn’t a bro being a bro, then I don’t know what tf is. Of course, Kyle exclaims, “NO”, wanting to save him from the same fate as what he has to go through. Kyle is justifying it in his mind as he really does think he is being the chosen one to save humanity here.

While this episode is hard to watch, I do genuinely find the Stan and Kenny dynamics hilarious and underrated. The repeated scenes where Stan goes to recap his conversation with Kyle are so funny. At one point, Stan says, “I don’t get it, Kenny,” to a Kenny that’s been waiting patiently outside. Kenny just shrugs and says, “Dude, maybe he’s, like, mentally ill or something”, lmaoooo.

And then the moment where Stan goes on the big screen as he calls Kyle is genuinely funny to me as well. He tries to tell Kyle he found out Cartman’s been lying, and Kyle is like, “Duh, dude. Why the fuck do you think I’ve been going along with it 😭” And that’s when Stan finally understands why Kyle’s doing it. But he still tells Kyle he thinks he��s being a dick about it all, but ultimately decides to help Kyle out. I think the part where Stan tells Kyle sternly that he needs to apologize to Kenny as well is so fucking funny (and then Kenny’s cheery ‘It’s okay, Kyle!’) is everything lmfao.

Stan and Kyle’s dynamic here particularly is interesting to me because it is SO similar to their dynamic in the ‘Butterballs’ episode, just in reverse where Stan is the one lecturing Kyle for getting up his ass for trying to be a ‘savior’.

Stan mentions something like this many times, but when Kyle compares himself to Gandhi, Stan replies, “You know, I don’t think when Ghandi starved himself he was all ‘Dude look how fuckin’ awesome I am for starving. Check me out!””. This is pretty much the same parallel as Kyle telling Stan he was gonna end up naked and jacking it in San Diego in “Butterballs”. Both those episodes are painful for me to watch, but I do love how it shows how both Stan and Kyle care about each other enough to call each other out on their bullshit like real friends should.

I think that both Stan and Kyle both have moments where they get so caught up in trying to be the ‘hero’ that they don’t realize they’re being more performative and making justifications rather than actually helping. (other examples include ‘A Scause for Applause’ for Stan, and ‘Crack Baby Athletic Association’ for Kyle.) Note that I think these episodes are more the exception rather than the rule for both characters as I really do think both try their hardest in their own ways to be good, but those episodes are examples of what I mentioned above and add interesting depth to both their characters.

p.s. there’s a deleted scene where Stan and Kenny actually go to the doctor to try to find out what’s wrong with Kyle and it’s so cute lmfao. It’s giving the time stan went to the doctor to try to give up his kidney for Kyle. It’s short, but also shows how much they truly work hard behind the scenes to help their friend out. One of the screenshots provided is from that scene.