#i can't give too much on this boy away

[hislittleraincloud]

Just want to inform you that you’ve made it to Twitter. (https://x.com/altf4d3lete/status/1838681661816664313?s=46&t=sjzE9yJDPIIrx07d8gwl7g)

Sad and embarrassing this little kids don’t know what crack ships are.

Fuck 'em. I responded. See how long it takes for them to chickenshit block me. Once again I must remind everyone that I'm a veteran of ship wars. I don't care if I'm outnumbered 1M to 1. I've been doing this longer than some of those turdlings have been alive.

And I am in the right about Mejia's shitty bastardization because I don't have thick ship goggles on.

[deviousdiesel]

.

[im2tired4usernames]

Ugh I was excited for today until I found out I'd have to spend it with people that actively make me hate being alive hate the future and drain me off all energy physically mentally spiritually like a vampire I can't stand to be around her she is the definition of stupidity and even then that's generous as fuck this bitch has filled her brain with so much garbage I watch her brain cells die at alarming rates every single time she uses her vocal cords her giggles make me want to jam a sewing needle into my ear repeatedly so I can never have to hear it again its a friendly reminder that my parents decisions this time my dad's constantly makes me want to die

[ladyimaginarium]

ok so i& was holding myself& back by a thread for a few days but. beyonce's lemonade album is. quite litcherally marlontine in an au where he lives & he has to answer to her. basically that whole speech in waiting to exhale where she takes his shit & burns his shit while smoking a cigarette. she destroys his ass lmao

[angstandhappiness]

Ach

"I feel like the child of an alcoholic--you know the problem isn't yours, but it is. You want to help, but you don't know how, so you lie awake at night in fear and confusion, and nothing gets resolved. I'm not sure, but I think Bruce is going crazy, and I'm lost not knowing what to do." /// "I love Bruce. He's my family. But I couldn't bring him out of the past. And after a while, I realized the longer I spent trying to get him out of the past and into the present...I was sacrificing my own future. I don't want that for you." -Batman: Year Three (1989) vs. Urban Legends #10 (2021)

[firesidefantasy]

i could never let anyone i know read my writing. it is for too revealing in just about every possible way.

[chuluoyi]

✎ baby to the rescue

- gojo satoru x reader

in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman

genre: immense fluff !! baby gojo and dad!gojo shenanigans~

note: based on this and this reel. with this i hereby declare that anything past chapter 235 is null and void HAHA anyway, i truly want to post remarried empress au by this week but since 261 leaks hurt me so much, i need more fluff so have to postpone it to next week :') tagging @karikari19hikariiii <3

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Your husband Gojo Satoru... is handsome as hell, which means your baby son is also undeniably good-looking.

"Why do you pout at me?" Satoru poked his squirming baby's cheek while pursing his lips too. "C'mon, smile! That auntie is smiling at you!"

Everyone who passed by them in Shinjuku shopping district turned heads to admire him and his pumpkin just a little longer, and Satoru visibly enjoyed the attention. He smiled back at them, occasionally winking even.

If only they knew how pretty his wife was too...

Wait, no! On second thought, if they know how hot you are, there will be problems!

You had left him to go to the nearest pharmacy to restock some things, while Satoru decided to entertain his baby in the toy section. He basked in the starry-eyed looks people were giving him... until he heard some strange sounds and turned to his baby boy—

—who was chewing the beak of a duck toy with all his might. Satoru was mortified.

"—! Let that go! Your mama will beat me if she sees you eating this!"

Your baby paid him no mind though, desperately pushing the duck into his mouth. Satoru sat him on one of the empty racks and began the tug of war—

"Let go!" he reprimanded. "You're so naughty, gods—!"

Some people were now openly giggling at both of them. His son tried to resist by rolling, and Satoru clicked his tongue. He then yanked the toy away until his baby finally let it go, sniffling sadly that his papa wouldn't let him have the duck.

"Oh, you..." he picked him up again and consoled the pumpkin. "You can't do that, you hear? First, it's not clean. Second, mama will grow two heads to chew you and me both, understand?"

No, your son totally didn't understand a thing. Satoru sighed, seeing his little blue eyes welling up with tears. He ruffled his head and pulled him close. "There, there... I'll get you ice cream, okay? Now let's go."

Satoru was determined to turn his son back into a smiling, happy baby. But just as he was about to head towards the ice cream parlor, he encountered the most unbelievable sight—

"Miss! I guarantee you'll love this credit card features!"

You. That was clearly you, and a salesman (or a bozo, in Satoru's eyes) was trying to bother you.

You raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no— thank you—"

Yet the bozo was still persistent, like the pesky fly he was. "You can use it to pay for your monthly beauty treatments! Someone as pretty as you..." He eyed you from head to toe, blinking suggestively. "Oh my! Your skin is flawless! You have to maintain it this way! I can also give you recommendations for—"

You were wearing a flare dress that made you look so young and petite, and obviously, Satoru too was lusting after you. And true, your skin was smooth like a soft serve of mochi, but still!

You are meant for him and his eyes only! Oho, this bozo would get heavenly punishment.

He had to get to you somehow, but this was public space and if he cooked up some sort of shenanigan, you would put him in sex ban. I can't have that! so Satoru wracked his brain to think of another way...

Once again, his gaze fell on his now calm baby, who was also looking at his mama over there with utter curiosity. And an idea immediately popped up in his mind.

"Hey, kiddo, look at that, a bad man is trying to take your mama," Satoru nudged him as if trying to egg him on. "We can't let that happen. Will you help me to save her, hmm?"

"Mama..." your baby looked back at him so innocently before smiling. "Mamaaa!"

"Good boy." Gods, his baby was so adorable, he almost felt bad for doing this but...

Swallowing his guilt, thinking he would make it up later, he pinched his son's butt a little too firmly—

"WAAAA!" and suddenly, the little boy burst into tears, and even Satoru was surprised by the sheer volume of his wail.

The sudden inconsolable sound of your baby sent you scrambling in panic, your eyes wildly searching for him, completely disregarding the credit card man. "My baby!"

"Eh?" the credit card man was visibly surprised. "Oh... so, you're married...?"

You immediately made your way towards Satoru and snatched your baby from him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, there, there... What happened to you?" you shot your husband a distaste look as your son kept wailing. "Satoru, why is he crying?"

He nonchalantly shrugged. "Maybe missing his mama? Dunno~"

By now, you had completely forgotten the credit card bozo, but he still looked at the three of you in mild surprise. Satoru took this chance to approach him and whisper in his ear:

"You see, my wife doesn't need your credit card," he whistled. "My cards or lumpsum money will do more than enough."

After seeing how pale the bozo looked, Satoru chuckled darkly... before leading you and your son away from the crowd, with one arm possessively around your waist.

Epilogue

"I'm sorry— I'm sorry, okay!?"

Satoru looked down at his son in utter hopelessness, as the little boy refused to be held by him, looking at him with teary, resentful eyes, and backing away from him in his playpen.

Can babies hold a grudge? Satoru didn't know, but his son definitely was not happy with him, and he couldn't think of any other explanation other than his sin against him back this afternoon.

"I've bought you mochi ice cream!" he opened his palm to reveal the treat. "Don't you want some? Papa will give you some, yeah?"

Baby looked skeptical now, and at that moment, he resembled you so much—accusing eyes, pursed lips, exactly like the expression you would pull when you were unsure of what Satoru might do next. He almost chuckled at the resemblance, feeling giddy.

"C'mon, forgive me, yeah?" he patted his son's little beanie and offered his hand for him to take, eyes crinkling in fondness. "Now, here comes your treat, come closer?"

Your baby crawled closer, seemingly accepting him, and Satoru was all smiles, until—

Whack!

It happened in a flash. He could have avoided it, but he was too taken aback. The pain exploded in his jaw, so intense that he grunted loudly.

"What the—?! You... you—! You kicked me— in the face!"

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

My gosh this is beautiful and I have to reply because this is EXACTLY why I project onto him so much (a Very Healthy reason I know. When I first read Les Mis, I cried, bc I have felt exactly that pang). Ten million percent agreed with everything you said above!

I love your point about Cosette and Marius bringing up his (long-buried) feelings of envy: the tragic irony is, Jean Valjean--so often defined by his one act of theft--feels, himself, robbed.

Because ultimately, underneath it all, Valjean has a desperate desire for love--total, enduring love. Every time Jean Valjean has allowed himself to be truly known, people have immediately turned on him; all the goodwill he's built up over years of charity and suffering fades immediately. He feels that he will always be abandoned. So he's desperate for someone to stay. What first allows him to love Cosette is her helplessness: he is her savior, so she cannot leave him. And because of how enmeshed his identity is with Cosette, becoming anything less than her everything is a brutal extraction for him. He believes, since it is all he has known, that love is total and all-consuming; therefore, he believes Cosette can only really love one person, just as he only loved her, and that person (by Right™) is Marius now. After all he has gone through, and all he has done, he feels abandoned once again--even though Cosette may still claim she loves him--because he is not her everything, so he is nothing. And that literally kills him.

Valjean's perceived abandonment by Cosette is so devastating to him because in a way, he uses Cosette as a stand-in for God. He has never believed God could love him--in fact, even in the convent, he's described as kneeling before the sister "as though afraid to kneel directly before God." He has never allowed himself to see himself as anything other than the "miserable man" he was at the start of the story. And how could God love that? Instead, he finds Cosette, who is initially desperate and has no other choice but to rely on him (and he believes as soon as she does have a choice, or if she learns who he really is, she will leave him), and uses her as the foundation of his identity. She's also the center of his virtue; with someone to care for, to sacrifice for, maybe he can earn God's love somehow. And if someone so pure could love him, maybe there was something in him that could be loved. So of course when she begins to love someone else, Valjean crumbles--her love felt secure because it was desperate, but now she can choose. And he could never imagine anyone, including God, loving him willingly.

But I love Les Mis because he's wrong!!!! He's wrong about that, and he's wrong about himself, and he's wrong about what love is!! And the story tells him so!!!

From the start of the story to the end, God has always been with him, guiding his path. The narration throughout the story makes it clear--he even recognizes "the hand of Providence" in guiding him to the bishop and the convent, in bringing him finally to the trial to save the innocent man; to stumble upon Cosette in the woods was no coincidence, nor was it chance that Cosette and Marius found him (because they were looking for him!! Because they love him!!!) right before he died. He has always been loved, wholly and forever, even in the midst of his sin and suffering.

It's a love that knows him fully, and endures.

And I love that his story ends with that.

Jean Valjean's Canon Toxic Unhealthiness around Romantic Love

( alternate titles: “Does Jean Valjean is Gay?”, or “Does Jean Valjean is Asexual?” Or: “Why is it so difficult to slap an identity/sexuality label onto Jean Valjean?” Or “LGBTPTSD+”)

I was looking at the responses to this poll about whether people interpret Jean Valjean as gay/asexual/straight or something else….and it got me thinking again about Jean Valjean’s canonical intense, complex, awful, toxic, and overwrought emotions around identity/ romantic love. I want to talk about that for a bit because I think it often gets overlooked in fandom!

I've noticed that Les Mis fandom/analysis often tends to interpret Jean Valjean as being far more content, more "at peace with himself," and more "comfortable in his own skin" than he ever is within the novel. This is also a common change in adaptations. The musical's version of Jean Valjean is great-- but he also seems a lot more self-actualized, more like he's gotten himself completely "figured out" by the end of the story. Other, bad, Les Mis adaptations — the adaptations that generally portray Jean Valjean a worse more violent person — also usually make Jean Valjean more confident in himself, more confident in his own feelings/desires, more certain that he’s entitled to certain things, and more willing to demand or take what he wants.

But one major aspect of book Jean Valjean's personality is that he does not have a healthy relationship with anything about himself. He has a tortured broken relationship with his own identity. He repeatedly thinks about “Jean Valjean” as a person outside of himself, a person who he finds frightening, repulsive, savage, and horrible— like a wild animal he needs to sedate, or beat into submission. He is obsessed with self-denial and self-repression. He is fixated on the idea that he is subhuman, that he is not allowed to want things or to pursue having any kinds of relationships with other people-- and that the most heroic thing he can do is "grab himself by the collar” and violently force himself to stay away from the things he wants. He is desperate to be loved and fixated on being unworthy of love and on denying himself love. He is absolutely not at peace with his identity: to paraphrase Jean Valjean in one of the later chapters, he believes he can only gain inner peace by “eviscerating his own entrails.”

He is never truly content with who he is, what he wants, or what kind of love he wants— and he never learns to be. The novel ends with him cutting himself off from his only family, breaking ties with the only person who loves him, and essentially slowly killing himself out of self-loathing.

There are other characters in Les Mis who seem very content with who they are and what they want. Enjolras is self-assured in his identity, and doesn’t appear to feel like there is any kind of love that is missing from his life. Whether you interpret him as gay or ace or trans or w/e, book!Enjolras is written as someone who is extremely self-assured and has a loving support system that is enough to keep him happy. But I don’t think that’s true for Jean Valjean at all XD.

And that’s why it's hard to apply labels like “aromantic” or “ace” or gay/straight/etc to Jean Valjean, when talking about his canon characterization. Those labels imply the person has a basic level of comfort with acknowledging their own desires/lack of desire/identity. And Jean Valjean never achieves that level of comfort. What “label” do you give to someone whose relationship with their identity is “I do not belong in a family, I have no right to want things, I have no right to be happy, I am outside of life, and I will never be at peace until I eviscerate my own entrails?” Is there a “self-disembowelment" pride flag? XD I've seen a lot of interpretations that go "Jean Valjean never expresses any interest in romance, he's perfectly content just to have his relationship with his daughter" but I honestly don't think that's true. Jean Valjean tries to content himself with having only Cosette. But part of why everything explodes so catastrophically in the end of the novel is because he needs more than just a paternal relationship. He doesn’t try to have a “normal” father-daughter relationship with Cosette, he tries to force his relationship with Cosette to be literally everything and everyone to him, for her to be his entire world: and it doesn’t work.

There’s a passage in the novel that talks about how all the love Valjean is capable of ends up being suppressed/sublimated into his relationship with Cosette. The love of a brother, of a friend, of a father, of a husband, the love of everything he is capable of, gets repressed so that he can throw every part of himself into being a father. There are Bad les mis adaptations that incorrectly misinterpret that passage to mean that Jean Valjean is incestuous/grooming Cosette. But in context, that’s not what the passage means at all.

The passage specifies very explicitly that Jean Valjean “did not love Cosette otherwise than as a father,” that “no marriage was possible between them,” that his feelings for her are absolutely paternal. But the passage does show how Jean Valjean is doing a very different unhealthy thing: he’s relying on Cosette to fill every single emotional void in his life.

He’s relying on parenthood to fill the grief/emptiness left behind by all the other kinds of love that he has wanted, but never been given.

To quote a bit of that passage:

Jean Valjean did not love Cosette otherwise than as a father (…) Let the reader recall the situation of heart which we have already indicated. No marriage was possible between them; not even that of souls; and yet, it is certain that their destinies were wedded. With the exception of Cosette, that is to say, with the exception of a childhood, Jean Valjean had never, in the whole of his long life, known anything of that which may be loved. The passions and loves which succeed each other had not produced in him those successive green growths, tender green or dark green, which can be seen in foliage which passes through the winter and in men who pass fifty. In short, and we have insisted on it more than once, all this interior fusion, all this whole, of which the sum total was a lofty virtue, ended in rendering Jean Valjean a father to Cosette. A strange father, forged from the grandfather, the son, the brother, and the husband, that existed in Jean Valjean; a father in whom there was included even a mother; a father who loved Cosette and adored her, and who held that child as his light, his home, his family, his country, his paradise.

Jean Valjean reminds me of a Failmode I’ve seen in a lot of different real-life parents? There are parents who cope with their own hard lives by telling themselves that parenthood is their sole reason for being alive, and who obsess over their child’s success as their only source of purpose, meaning, love, happiness, community, and validation. But it’s a bad idea to rely on one child to provide the emotional support that should be shared by friends, parents, siblings, every possible loved one, etc etc—- One child can’t actually heal you from your trauma, be a replacement for your broken relationships, pull you out of your grief, save you from your adult loneliness, etc etc etc etc.

When I see the common interpretation that Jean Valjean is perfectly content just to be the father of Cosette, I think of this line:

Thus when he saw that the end had absolutely come, that she was escaping from him, that she was slipping from his hands, that she was gliding from him, like a cloud, like water, when he had before his eyes this crushing proof: “another is the goal of her heart, another is the wish of her life; there is a dearest one, I am no longer anything but her father, I no longer exist”; when he could no longer doubt, when he said to himself: “She is going away from me!” the grief which he felt surpassed the bounds of possibility. To have done all that he had done for the purpose of ending like this! And the very idea of being nothing!

On one hand, the terrible Les mis adaptations that portray Valjean as Incest Creep are incorrect and wrong. On the other hand, though, Jean Valjean IS unhealthy about Cosette— just in a different and actually sympathetic way.

He has made fatherhood his only purpose, to replace every other purpose he could have in life. So he can’t be “just Cosette’s father.” He can’t imagine her becoming an adult and leaving the nest, like children do. What does he have if he’s not taking care of her? What is his purpose in life if she doesn’t need him to be her parent? He's not just being her father, he's relying on her to be his entire reason to exist. He hasn't been allowing himself to have things outside of her.

And speaking of things outside of Cosette: segue time. This post was supposed to be about Jean Valjean and romance, so let's switch gears and talk about his canon 'romantic experiences' more:

We’re told that in his youth he “never had a sweetheart” because he “never had time to be in love.” There is no indication that Jean Valjean never wanted to be in love. The opposite is implied. Hugo frames it as a tragedy that Jean Valjean’s does not experience young love; it’s the horror of poverty taking yet another thing from him.

Within prison, Valjean is “gloomy” and “chaste;” when he traumadumps to Montparnasse about it, he talks about women looking on galley slaves with horror and disgust. Romance, at least “normal” heterosexual romance, is no longer something that is permitted for him. Jean Valjean knows very little about romance/love/sex and it repeatedly messes up his life. He spends 19 years in the all-male environment of prison, then about a decade in the almost-all-female environment of the convent. He has very little experience with how men and women are supposed to interact. The oppression Fantine faces as a sex worker, and Cosette's relationship with Marius, are both two big 'blind spots' that he struggles with.

At one point romantic love is described as “The only misery Jean Valjean had not yet experienced, and the only one that is sweet.”

In his massive confession to Marius, he agonizes over how he is not allowed to be part of a family, and is incapable of being part of a home. He compares himself to someone sick and diseased, that poisons good and normal people with his presence, and cannot be allowed to make himself part of their families.

So Jean Valjean doesn’t frame Romance as “a thing he doesn’t want:” it’s a thing “he is not allowed to want,” it is one of the many things he is banned from wanting. It's impossible to tell what kind of things he would want, if he were allowed to want them.

One of the most interesting things to me, however, is his general attitude towards Marius/Cosette.

Obviously his first reaction to Marius snooping around is fear and resentment— he doesn’t know to interact with romance, having never experienced it, and immediately begins catastrophizing. He views Marius as a privileged booby ruining his life for something as frivolous as a love affair: it reads to me as partially envy, envy of the fact that Marius lives the kind of safe comfortable life that allows him to experience young love.

Jean Valjean added: “What does he want? A love affair! A love affair! And I? What! I have been first, the most wretched of men, and then the most unhappy, and I have traversed sixty years of life on my knees, I have suffered everything that man can suffer, I have grown old without having been young, I have lived without a family, without relatives, without friends, without life, without children, I have left my blood on every stone, on every bramble, on every mile-post, along every wall, I have been gentle, though others have been hard to me, and kind, although others have been malicious, I have become an honest man once more, in spite of everything, I have repented of the evil that I have done and have forgiven the evil that has been done to me, and at the moment when I receive my recompense, at the moment when it is all over, at the moment when I am just touching the goal, at the moment when I have what I desire, it is well, it is good, I have paid, I have earned it, all this is to take flight, all this will vanish, and I shall lose Cosette, and I shall lose my life, my joy, my soul, because it has pleased a great booby to come and lounge at the Luxembourg.”

But, even though Jean Valjean views romance as something he isn’t allowed or have or to want, views it as a threat and catastrophizes over how it will ruin his life……he seems to also put heterosexual romance on a pedestal.

The way Jean Valjean idealizes marriage is one of his weirdest character notes for me.

He views marriage as Cosette’s “happy ending.” It’s her “happily ever after” point where she won’t need him anymore, where she won’t need anyone outside of her husband. A Man And a Woman Are Meant to Get Married, It's Fate, and It Means They Will Live Happily Together Forever. Marius is “the goal of her heart, the wish of her life; her dearest one.” Nothing outside of that matters anymore.

He treats her marriage as if romantic love is inherently always more important than any kind of platonic relationships, and always takes priority over them. He later dismisses the unconventional family structure he has with Cosette, saying that despite his love for her he was only a "passerby" and was not actually her real father, because they were not biologically related.

There's a moment where Jean Valjean is described as someone whose ideal is to be angel on the inside and a bourgeois on the outside. Jean Valjean's worship of bourgeois social norms, norms he can never truly be a part of, is one of his character flaws. He has a similar "guard dog" energy as Eponine does when she defends Rue Plumet from her parents.....Eponine and Jean Valjean both become the guard dogs of a kind of romantic relationship they believe they are banned from having. Jean Valjean believes that getting Happily Straight Married in a Middle-Class Home with a Picket Fence(tm) is the ideal path for life....but believes himself broken/incapable of ever following that path. And so he instead throws his entire life into securing that future for Marius and Cosette.

In what manner was Jean Valjean to behave in relation to the happiness of Cosette and Marius? It was he who had willed that happiness, it was he who had brought it about; he had, himself, buried it in his entrails, and at that moment, when he reflected on it, he was able to enjoy the sort of satisfaction which an armorer would experience on recognizing his factory mark on a knife, on withdrawing it, all smoking, from his own breast. Cosette had Marius, Marius possessed Cosette. They had everything, even riches. And this was his doing.

TL: DR:

Jean Valjean's gender/sexuality label is “idk but he’s super fucked up about it.”

[melancholymirth]

What kind of catharsis do you need? Homecoming You've been away for quite a while -- maybe it's time to call it a day. You've had to keep up the façade for so long you're starting to forget who you really are. This calls for a nice cup of tea and an early evening in. Pack it up, settle down. Come home to yourself.

Tagged by: N/A, taken from @astarab1aze who likes to keep me out of the fun Tagging: N/A

[bi-writes]

Could we get some Simon POV on mail order bride reader? Perhaps his thoughts on how timid she is?? Pls and thanks!

mail-order bride

it is something that he knows as soon as you step over the threshold for the very first time. he's observant to a fault; he can't be surprised by anything because he pays too much attention to the small details, to the things no one gives a second glance.

the way your head whips around when a loud noise carries across the room. the way you jump when you weren't expecting him behind you, crowding your space. the soft way you talk, the way you constantly try to make yourself disappear when there are others in your vicinity.

it speaks volumes, this kind of behavior. this intense need to appease others, to not disturb them, tiptoeing to gauge reaction to make sure you haven't done anything wrong, that you haven't upset anyone.

simon knows this kind of timidness all too well. he sees the veil that you wear, the kind that flutters when a hand is raised; he recognizes it, and you are a reflection of a woman that he used to know.

a woman he used to look up to. one that he loved, and one that loved him back.

the more time he spends with you, the more unlike himself he feels, the more aware he is of the other half of himself that is so far away from him, a stranger. never in simon's life has he felt that same burning anger. he's never felt the need to make those around him afraid. he's never relished in being the bigger man, the stronger one--and when the voices get loud enough, he still remembers being the boy who hid under his bed until he was too big to fit underneath it.

so he makes his steps louder. he shuffles his feet on the carpet. he makes them heavier, soft thuds that can be heard in the hardwood of the kitchen.

he makes noise. in whatever room he's in, he makes it known. the clatter of his toothbrush into its holder. the metal scratch of hangers as he gets a jacket. the clatter of a mug in the sink. the thunk of his boots by the door.

you stop flinching. you stop looking over your shoulder. the sounds of his boots coming off, it brings you into the living room to greet him. when you hear his toothbrush in the bathroom, you shuffle inside so you can stand beside him and do the same. when you hear him in the kitchen, you always pad into the room, giving him those big, soft eyes and asking him for the millionth time if he needs help (no, go fuckin' sit down, too pretty to be workin').

there is a woman in simon's life who used to do the same. who used to be too scared of the world to ever live in it. who never got the chance to unlearn all of the ugly that the wrong man had taught her.

simon grabs the canvas bags in the closet, tossing them over his shoulder as he makes his way to the door.

"we're goin' t'be late," simon calls out. "won't 'ave the bread y'like 'f we don't leave now."

"coming! coming!"

you hurry into the living room, shrugging on your cardigan as you go for your purse hanging by the front door. you slip into your shoes, following simon as he walks out the door.

when simon makes his way down the steps, he expects to have to tell you to stop, to let him walk down the steps first so he can give you his hand; but when he turns, you're waiting there at the top of the steps, fiddling with your purse. he holds out his hand, and you take it on instinct, without even looking, letting him guide you until you've made it to the pavement and can walk to the car.

and when you make it to the passenger side, you're standing at an angle, putting your earrings on as you wait for simon to open your door.

as you wait.

after simon pulls the seatbelt around you and clicks it closed, he lingers, staring at you as you try and fix your hair in the rearview mirror. you pause, looking down at him, giggling.

"what is it, simon? i-is there something on my face?"

he sighs deeply, shaking his head. he lifts a hand, cupping your cheek, swiping a thumb under your eye before stepping back to close your door.

"no," simon mutters. "look bloody perfect."

there's no past with you. only present.

[alexiroflife]

"first day"

fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off

Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door

to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of

WC: 1,701

Warning(s): none

"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.

His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"

"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."

"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.

"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."

"Not at all, actually," you agree.

Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"

"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."

"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.

"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.

"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."

"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.

"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."

"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."

"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.

"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."

Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.

"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"

"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."

"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"

"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."

"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.

"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.

"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.

"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.

"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.

"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.

"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."

"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."

"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."

Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"

"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."

The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."

"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."

Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.

"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."

The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"

"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."

"But-"

"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.

"Yes, ma'am."

Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"

"We done, now?"

"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."

Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.

Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.

He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."

You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."

"I know. I will," he nods.

"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."

"I won't."

"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."

"I'll try."

You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.

"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.

"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"

"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."

"Please do."

Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."

"Don't speed, Toji."

"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.

"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.

"See ya, doll."

"Bye, mum."

The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.

You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.

You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.

Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.

"Yep."

Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.

Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."

"I'm gonna cry."

The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"

"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."

"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."

"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."

"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."

"You're being for real?"

"Of course I am."

You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."

"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"

"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."

He smirks. "Will do, doll."

[sleepymarimo]

❝𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐮𝐩!❞

synopsis: you're tasked with waking up zoro for dinner, but it's hard to make him budge.

pairing: zoro x gn!reader cw: more tooth rotting fluff for my favorite swordsman :) wc: ~1.6k an: i had a dream about this and added some even more fluff because why not. ty all i hope you enjoy <3 also i realized i have a decent chunk of zoro fics about napping lol maybe this is why im sleepymarimo i just love that sleepy lil guy

"Where the hell is that shitty swordsman?" Sanji grumbles, cigarette hanging from his lips as he sets a hefty plate of rice on the dining table.

Even though you're acutely aware that the marimo is missing, you pretend to peer over shoulders and swivel your head to give the impression that you're just as clueless as everyone else. You're already sat at the table, utensils neatly resting beside your plate.

Everyone else is already in the dining room, Luffy practically on the brink of perishing as the food is placed before him. Chopper and Usopp are close behind, their forks glinting in the light.

Robin is patient, smiling at the sight before her, the one she's grown to love. "I believe he said something about taking a nap," she reveals, her fingers wrapping around the stem of a wine glass. "He might be holed up in the boy's room."

"You mean the men's room?" Franky speaks up in an attempt to lighten the mood, the cola bottle in his hand hissing as he pops the cap.

Nami shakes her head, not in the mood to entertain the hooligans she calls her crewmates- her family. When Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper start to chant for their food, the navigator's last straw cracks into a million pieces.

Her chair slides back with a screech as she stands, planting her hands on the table. "Ugh, I can't believe that guy, sleeping through dinner!" The sigh she gives is intentionally dramatic, her charm working its magic as Sanji quickly offers to knock some sense into the green-haired swordsman.

It all comes to a halt when a pair of hands sprout from the table, tugging at the cook's shirt in a silent command to stay put. All eyes go to Robin, her knowing gaze easily hiding whatever ploy is running through her mind.

She calls your name and you immediately feel your cheeks warm, though you still feign obliviousness even if it seems like she's peeking right into your brain.

"Why don't you get Zoro?" she suggests, yet deep down you know you don't have an option.

Even if the thought of protesting crosses your mind, the chorus of growling stomachs and pleas for you to hurry have you standing and scampering up the stairs and to the deck.

Standing in front of the door to the boy's cabin, you feel your stomach drop a bit. You're quite literally entering a tiger's den, into the willing jaws of a beast who has been known to treasure booze, swords, and naps above all else.

The air inside the room is significantly more warm, heavy, compared to the cool breeze blowing outside. It's dark, your eyes adjusting to the lack of lighting as you carefully step over shoes and dirty clothes.

For a moment the beds seem empty and you wonder if he's even inside, yet the massive figure atop one of the bunks makes you quickly reconsider that thought.

His bare back rises and falls at a leisurely pace, his arms sprawled over the sides of the bed while he lays on his front. Cheek pressed comfortably into his pillow, Zoro naps away without much care for anything else.

After gawking for a second or two, you step toward the bunk, mentally cursing, and steel yourself for what feels like the millionth time. The wooden structure is a bit too tall for you to get a look at him, so with a small grunt you step onto the bottom bunk and grip onto the rails to hoist yourself up.

As soon as you take a glimpse over the top bunk's railing, you feel the warmth of his exhales across your nose and cheeks. It makes your face warm, your own breaths stalling as you take in the sight of him looking so… serene.

His face is softened, relaxed, a stark contrast to the pinched brows and scowls he usually wears.

Imagining the exasperated faces of your hungry crewmates, you get on with your small mission. Even though you're there to wake him, you're considerate enough to keep mindful of your tone. "Zoro?" comes his name from your lips, a murmur not quite suited for waking a beast.

The most you get out of him is the slight wrinkling of his nose, like a fly had perched there for a second before buzzing off. In a way it's expected given that he's slept through storms and whole marine attacks.

Your tone is louder the next time you call his name, more firm, his silhouette becoming pronounced as your eyes adjust to the dark room. "Zoro," you call again, arms starting to ache from how you're pulling yourself up to the top bunk.

Again, nothing. It's almost comical at this point, really.

You resist the urge to groan in frustration, your options becoming more limited. Time really isn't on your side here, not when the odds of a hungry pirate barging into the room increases by the second.

Taking a big breath, you decide that this is going to be the last try. This is going to be the one to wake the marimo, whether he likes it or not.

Unfortunately, the sea has other plans for you.

The ship hits a patch of rough water, the violent movement causing you to lose your grip on the railing tethering you to the top bunk. Your breath also catches when the sudden jolt makes your feet slip off the mattress belonging to the bottom bed, your heart skipping a beat when you feel yourself starting to fall back.

You're fully prepared to brace yourself against the harsh floor, your muscles tensing and jaw tightening, but you don't even have the chance to fall back a single inch.

A strong arm, previously hanging limp over the bed, curls around your waist and holds you steady. It supports all your weight, even as your legs kick out in an attempt to find solid ground. With your face suddenly squished into the junction of his neck, your own arms act on instinct and wrap around his shoulders.

Zoro's awake now, steel-grey eye open and aware as if he hadn't been knocked out cold just seconds ago. His senses have a unique threshold, not bothering to pick up on the calls of his name but always managing to be ready when his crewmates need him most- especially you.

His skin is warm, a tell tale sign that he'd probably been napping for hours. Tightening his grip on you, he sits up, pulling you with him. You're still disoriented, wondering why you haven't hit the floor, but he's as sharp as ever.

"The hell are you doin'?" he grumbles, voice still heavy from his rest, carrying that delightful rasp. His irritated tone is a facade, more of a light chide than anything. "You tryin' t'break your neck or something?"

You feel like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing a couple times while you're still dangling from the top bunk. It's hard to not get in a few mumbled apologies, not knowing if he's ticked from being stirred from his sleep.

"Dinner is ready," you reply, managing to find your words, your hold on him not letting up due to fear of falling once more. He feels so warm, the definition of a guilty pleasure, and you're left to exert as much self-control as possible.

He lets out a scoff, amused, then grunts as he finally realizes you're still hanging over the bed. His hand moves, sliding across your waist to grab at the back of your shirt. While Zoro's strength is known throughout all the seas, it always leaves you in awe. With nothing more than a bicep curl, he hoists you up and onto the top bunk with him.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you sink into the soft mattress, the bunk creaking with the added weight and how Zoro shifts into a seated position. Legs crossed over one another, he stretches his arms over head, unintentionally showing off his physical prowess.

Your eyes find the ceiling out of respect, but mostly because you're another second away from bursting into flames.

He yawns, then rubs at the back of his neck. "Dinner, huh?" he repeats, finding the answer satisfactory enough and shrugging his shoulders. "They sent the right person. I don't need that shitty cook hurling a kick my way."

You nod and even get out a laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure waking up to me almost falling is a lot better," you joke, looking over the bunk to see the drop to the floor.

"It's no problem," he assures, his gold earrings catching in the slivers of moonlight entering through the window as a lazy smirk grows on his face. "I got ya."

While you'd be willing to skip dinner to stay with the swordsman, your stomach protests with a hefty grumble. Zoro's stomach follows suit, making it's need for food known. The timing of it makes another laugh slide past your lips, a sound that makes his smirk soften into something more genuine.

With a small grunt, he hops off of the top bunk and lands on the floor with a solid thud. "Alright," he starts, stretching his back out a bit more before lifting his head to meet your gaze. "Let's go eat." His arms raise, ready to help you down from the bed. Whether you want to take the ladder or propel yourself into his embrace, he silently vows to be there to offer support. Although Zoro could be stubborn, gruff, and brash, he'd never let you fall, not ever.

[pomefioredove]

now I'm actually invested in this idea. maybe I'll write a full length fic someday idk... for now I have short hcs

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending

summary: crowley decides to "give away" yuu to the highest "donation" for financial reasons type of post: headcanons characters: all nrc students additional info: can be read as platonic or romantic, except malleus is pretty romantic, second person pov, yuu is gender neutral, maybe a little ooc I wrote this as soon as I got up

crowley has had his fair share of "what the fuck" moments from you but this was really taking the cake

he acts so... casual about it?

swaggers into ramshackle one morning and says times are tough and your personal expenses are straining the budget so he's decided to "put you in someone else's care"

"The screening process will be vigorous to make sure you end up in good hands!" like you're a cat or something "Your expenses will be covered and you'll have somewhere to go during break!"

okay great. pretty obvious you have no say in this, so you don't even argue. what's the worst that could happen?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel find you the next day to say they're pooling their money to buy you

"To what?"

Epel shrugs. "Oh, well Crowley said we need to offer a donation to prove we're capable of supporting you..."

(you think that if not for the laws of this land you would have slaughtered that old fart)

Jack goes on a really long tirade about how shady and underhanded this is, making sure to reaffirm that he believes you should be free to make your own choices

"So you'll let me go once you get me?"

"Uhhh..."

Ace thinks once they buy you you'll have no choice but to do all of his homework for him

Deuce says that's not really how it works- and even if he tried, Riddle would kill him

(they've already gone over this twice before finding you)

Epel happily volunteers to take you home with him over breaks, probably the only positive in this mess

even if he thinks the whole thing is kind of funny

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

incapable of keeping his mouth shut, Ace accidentally spills the plan to Riddle, who is understandably aghast

you can't just give away a person under your care like a toy!

of all the irresponsible things...

of course, he'll have to put up his offer, too

purely for your sake! with a nicer room and a brand new copy of the dorm rules, maybe you'll stop getting yourself into trouble

he's got some family money (doctors, naturally) and considers this a worthwhile purchase, for his sanity and yours

of course, Trey and Cater overhear and may or may not be pooling their own cash for a chance, too

going behind Riddle's back on this is a risky venture, but hey, someone's gotta be on your side, here, right?

I mean, between a bunch of sixteen year old boys, the housewarden, and them, who would you choose?

actually don't answer that

...not that it's much of a secret, anyway. Cater's already got their gofundme equivalent link in bio

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona initially plans to have you become a live-in lackey like Ruggie

but then he really starts thinking- and, hey, the possibilities are endless, right?

for one, you'd make a really good pillow

he might have to kick Grim out for your full attention, but you could learn to live with that

and malleus would hate it

...that's reason enough for him

plus, he's got money to burn, so why not?

either way, he sets his bid at a reasonable (maybe too confident) price and sits back to watch the chaos unfold as everyone scrambles for a piece of the pie

news travels fast around school, after all

then Ruggie finds out that you could dethrone him as Leona's #2 and is understandably a little annoyed

that's his cushy post-grad job gig, thank you! he's worked hard for that!

besides, why should Leona get to hoard you? the guy can barely take care of himself!

so, Ruggie ends up outsourcing to a few dozen classmates for the necessary funds at a steep I-owe-you price

he's gonna be eating nothing but dandelions for a while...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, Azul is annoyed

once the news goes school-wide, it's all anyone can talk about

talk about good marketing...

why didn't he think of such a brilliant scam? he could have negotiated with Crowley to have a café brand deal tie-in!

of course, he's already set his bid, with Jade and Floyd offering to pitch in as necessary

it's a risky investment, sure, but a worthwhile one

Azul tells everyone that with the prefect's "obvious" popularity, having them at the café a few nights a week would drive sales through the roof

though that's really just what he says to shirk suspicion

a likely excuse coming from him, though, really, it would just be nice having you around

and if not for his own affections, Floyd's incessant begging and Jade's subtly manipulative comments about "how nice" it would be having a new face around would be enough for him to cave eventually

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"Kalim, no," is the first thing that Jamil says

"I strongly advise against this. It's another one of Crowley's silly scams and you could end up a target bec- are you even listening?"

hint: he is not

the second Kalim found out that he could get to take in his favorite magicless student like one of his treasures, he was all over it

(AKA infinite sleepovers)

and for what? a little optional donation to prove he's got the funds? he's got cash to spare!

he's already got your new room in Scarabia set up before he even puts his bid in

right next to his of course :)

and despite what Jamil insists, he himself might be working behind the curtain just a little to ensure he's the one who ends up with you

after all, why should Kalim get everything? this might be a valuable learning opportunity for him

You don't always get what you want

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

as much as Epel tries to keep the rest of his dorm from finding out, it's inevitable

he's actually a little surprised that the news didn't get to Vil sooner

with Rook around campus, surely he must have said something...

when Vil does find out, though, he just sighs

oh, of course. what next, will everyone meet each other in the arena and fight to the death over the prefect?

of all the silly, immature things...

oh? what's that? he's bidding anyway? of course he is, silly potato. he can't have some unwashed miscreant making you sleep on polyester bedding

(really, he's the only person on campus worthy of your time)

Rook has also been mysteriously absent from the dorm lately, though his initials on a poem and a strangely large sum of money end up in the donation pile

but really, that could be anyone... Rook would never dare betray Vil again, right?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ortho finds out directly from the other first years and sends Idia the details immediately

with a little note of encouragement, of course: "could be excellent for improving your social skills!"

Idia understandably freaks out

"WTF!!!! nooo way! this is a person, not a chatbot we're talking about here! I can barely keep virtual pets alive!!!!"

(liar)

(...but this is still different)

the conversation ends there, but semi-anonymous bid from someone named "gloomurai" gets cashapp'd directly to crowley

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

everyone in the room immediately turns to Malleus

"For the record, I think it's wrong to be bargaining over a human being," Silver says first. "But if anyone could handle it with grace, it's you."

Lilia laughs. "Oh, you're just saying that because you like the prefect so much!"

"Father, you're the one who likes the prefect so much,"

"Oh, right! carry on then. After all, I'm sure we could share,"

Sebek is the only one relatively against the idea, though Lilia luckily manages to get him to lower his voice after his third speech about how you aren't good enough for his liege

Malleus is rather quiet through the whole evening, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with any of the points made

he disappears for a short while, and when he comes back he seems a little more confident

though, of course, he goes to you first

seeing him at Ramshackle in the middle of the night is a familiar and welcoming sight after all of the chaos of your week

and he's in a great mood!

"Child of man! I've come with news," he says. "I have heard of your predicament and have come up with a solution!"

you immediately sulk. "Oh, no. You know I think this whole thing is terrible, right?"

"Yes, Silver mentioned you might not like the idea of being bought and sold like a trinket. But worry not, I do not plan on paying for you in money,"

you pause, at a loss for words, and then tentatively continue. "You're not...?"

"Of course not. What a primitive idea, I was baffled to hear it myself. My proposal will be more traditional: a modest sum of treasure, and a generous amount of livestock and the finest crop Briar Valley can offer,"

certainly he's not this naive, you think

"You really think Crowley is going to accept that over money? I'm pretty sure Kalim just bid away an entire country's worth,"

he laughs. "You speak as if this is some kind of business deal! I'm quite confident that my dowry will be best,"

huh. that was a strange way of putting it

but then again, you still didn't really understand how things work here, so you go along with it

and you allow yourself to relax. he seems confident in his offer, and he doesn't even see you as some kind of prize to win!

"Oh, well, alright. Thanks! I'm glad you're on it,"

he smiles. "Rest assured, child of man, you're in good hands. My dowry will far outshine the others, and the wedding will be even better,"

"I was honestly getting a little nervous for a momen- wait- wedding!?"

[boyfhee]

박성훈 、COUPLE CODE

sunghoon pouts when he's jealous.

featuring ⋆ rich boy! sunghoon x fem reader

contents ⋆ light kissing, jealous sunghoon ( 1061 )

notes ⋆ brought the heat back is making me want to write jealous fics for every single member i can't do this. anyway RICH BOY HOON WLCM BACK!!!!

“you’re pouting,” you say, reaching out to grab his hand but he slides it out of yours ever so swiftly. 

“i’m not pouting,” sunghoon mumbles, not even caring to look at you as he makes long strides to a secluded corner, away from the chatter of the charity event his parents dragged him to along with themselves. 

“you’re not good at lying,” you snort, following him wherever he’s going. he gives you a little run for himself when he’s like this— literally, because you keep increasing your pace, having a hard time keeping up with him. and when you finally do, hands around his wrist to stop him. “c’mon hoon, you don’t have to be jealous,”

“jealous?” he huffs, jerking his hand out of your grip as if you’ve insulted him, the words bruising his ego. “you’re saying i am jealous? what makes you say that?”

“it’s written all over your face,” you reply with a sigh, eyes glazing over his expression and the very obvious pout that he keeps denying is there. you simply stare at him for a few seconds before shaking your head and reaching out to cup his face. “you’re jealous and you’re pouting. it’s the most adorable thing in the world,”

and sunghoon would be lying if he said those words didn’t give him butterflies, especially with the way your hands are on his cheeks, squishing them a little to make his lips jut further in a pout. 

“you don’t know what you’re saying,” he huffs in mock offence, eyes looking away from your face as if he does not like this, albeit having no attempt at pushing you away. 

you know he’s just being dramatic, fists clenched on his sides even though you know his hands are itching to wrap themselves around your waist and pull you closer. it’s cute, even though you don’t particularly enjoy seeing him upset and it’s obvious that he can sense how much fun you’re having, which makes him pout even more.

“is this about jongseong?” 

“jongseong?” his eyes narrow at your face, the said name ringing in his head again and again as he takes your hands and pulls them away from his face, although still holding him ever so gently, contrary to the look in his eyes. “you’re on a first name basis with him?”

“we’re friends,” you giggle at the way his eyes squint further at your words— and he couldn’t be more obvious with that pout on his lips. “i don’t attend these events often so dad wants me to socialise,”

“you’re socialising with the enemy,” sunghoon glares at you, prompting out a chuckle from you at his words. he frowns at your reaction, making you laugh even more.

“you hate him, i don’t,”

“boyfriend’s enemy is your enemy too. that’s the couple code,” he states bitterly, fingers slowly interlacing themselves with yours. his brows are furrowed in irritation, lips still in a never ending pout— you think you love this version of sunghoon more.

sunghoon doesn’t pout.

as he claims, most of the time, even though you know it’s not really true. he pouts when you don’t give him attention, or when he calls you in disappointment to cancel the dates because his dad wants him to assist him with work and election campaigns— you can hear that pout through the phone when he speaks. sometimes, when your phone rings up between your lazy make out sessions, he pouts again, and you have to make sure your eyes are on him as your fingers trace over his lips and cheeks while you’re trying to get over that call as soon as possible. 

even now, when you two are silent and he’s looking down, fiddling with your fingers, you notice how his lips switch between a pout and an irritated scowl, the way he huffs at how absurd it all seems to him. and sunghoon is not a very jealous man— well, not until now. you’re used to him brushing it off when you tell him about some guy trying to get your number. ‘well you turned him down and you’re here in my arms so i don’t care—’ the usual response. 

although, you know about the rivalry between him and jongseong— jay, as sunghoon would like you to address the other guy— nothing could’ve made you assume that your dear boyfriend would be jealous over just a ten minutes conversation with him. you didn’t want to make him jealous, but that doesn’t mean you’re not enjoying this little exchange. 

“no more talking to jay. he’s the worst,” he mumbles, looking up at you with the exhibition of his bruised pride in his eyes. “and no more calling him jongseong too,”

“we’re friends, hoon,”

“he was interested in you,” he insists and words get stuck in your throat. it’s not a secret that jay had tried asking you out several times. there’s no doubt he was— or is still interested in you, if there’s any chance. you wouldn’t want to make sunghoon upset over that either way.

“valid,” you nod, agreeing with him to console his shattered ego, although trying to come to a conclusion in the middle. “okay, no more talking to jay when you’re not around,”

“good,” sunghoon wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer before pressing his lips against your cheeks. “he sucks anyway,”

“true, i don’t like his attitude,” you nod in an attempt to humour him.

and he’s not exactly convinced, since you and jay have been friends ever since you changed majors last year. he doesn’t ponder over that much, pouring all his attention on you and peppering your face with tender pecks. 

“and he’s not cute like me either when he pouts,” he pulls back after capturing your lips in a chaste kiss and puts his forehead against yours. you know you two should be getting back to the event, knowing your absence will not go unnoticed by either of your parents, but sunghoon has been through a lot today— as he will say it later— and so you decide to hold him in your arms a little longer.

“of course not,” you say with a kiss on the top of his head when he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck. his continues to draw soft circles on your waist through your dress, something that makes you hug him tighter. “you’re the cutest,”

taglist

[monster-disaster]

I have a request for you!

A female reader that is happy-go-lucky and carefree. She frequents a monster brothel very much to the annoyance of the owner, a large gruff skull headed male demon. All the workers outright refuse to accept any payment from her because she's that good of a fuck and they also slack off during work hours to chat with her. She's very amusing and has an infectiously positive attitude, becoming a pseudo therapy dog for them. He considers her a menace to his establishment.

The next time she comes in he gives her an itemized bill and tells her she is barred from entering until she pays up. The workers start making a fuss and his hubris kicks in and makes a bargain. He'll see if she is that good of a fuck, and if he runs out of stamina before her he'll pay for everything.

He's thinking that she's going to end up under him out of energy and breathlessly moaning his name. If only he knew the opposite is going to happen..…

Dear Anon, I love your brain.

demon!Ezek x human!Reader Good to know: smut

The demon stands outside, framed by the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp. His arms are crossed over his chest, muscles straining the fabric of his shirt as he watches you round the corner. His dark, angular face twists into a scowl at the sight of you walking towards him with a spring in your step, light and easy as if you are simply meeting an old friend rather than the very creature who sent you away with a hefty bill only weeks ago. His sharp eyes narrow with suspicion, and annoyance rolls off his spine in waves. Yet, when your gaze meets his, you flash him a grin, bright and carefree. Your lipstick glints under the light of the setting sun still peaking out between the tall buildings. The glow gives you an orange blush that makes the deep color of your eyes shine with something that makes him grumble.

"Little pest," he greets you with a grunt. "I thought you wouldn't come."

The curve of your lips turns sly as you peek at him through your eyelashes. "You thought wrong," you tell him. "I missed my boys too much not to come, anyway."

Your words hit their mark. The tight frown etched into his bony features deepens at the use of your words. He almost scoffs. His annoyance lingers in the air, but he says nothing, only stares at you with that simmering, barely contained displeasure.

Your boys...

And he can't even argue with that. Ever since he sent you away with that bill, his men have treated him like the enemy rather than their boss. They grumble under their breath, shooting him looks like he is a storm cloud hanging over their heads. They have become a flock of offended hens, huffing and puffing whenever they catch sight of him. Their loyalty to you has been a thorn in his side ever since.

You have been the thorn in his side ever since you first set foot in his brothel years ago, slipping through the front door like a breeze that none of them saw coming. You charmed your way into his men's good graces, winning over their hearts with a flick of your little finger. It got to the point where his men wouldn't even accept your money, brushing off your attempts to pay with dismissive waves and toothy grins. It was a rare sight, seeing the lot of them, usually gruff and hardened, melting under your influence like snow under a warm sun. They'd offer you drinks on the house, pull up chairs beside you for conversations, and treat you like one of their own, much to his growing frustration. He’d seen how their eyes would light up when you arrived, and the playful banter that used to fill the rooms whenever you were around. To them, you were a welcome break from the usual grind, but to him, you were nothing but a nuisance, one he couldn’t quite seem to rid himself of no matter how many times he tried to draw boundaries.

"Come, then," the demon rumbles, jerking his head toward the entrance before opening it in front of you with a rough motion. The hinges creak in protest, blending into the noises of the traffic around.

"Where are the others?" you ask immediately, your gaze sweeping over the empty, dimly lit hall as you step through the doorway.

"I sent them home."

The deal he made with you spread through the brothel within a few hours. The whispers and knowing glances bounced from one monster to another like wildfire, and before the demon knew it, the place was unbearable with the sneaky exchanges. He felt like the butt of a joke, and he couldn't stand it any longer.

"Oh," you reply. The disappointment in your voice only adds fuel to his growing annoyance. "I wanted to ask Blake how his family gathering went."

Ezek scowls down at you. His features, all bones, seem haunting. The deep crimson of his skin darkens as he glares. "What?" he asks, irritated. Then, he shakes his head dismissively. "Don't answer. I don't care."

You huff in answer. "Rude."

He rolls his eyes, exhaling sharply as he gestures for you to follow him. The impatience buzzes beneath his taut skin, making his movements rigid while he leads you down the corridor. Each step he takes is purposeful as if he is trying to outrun his annoyance simmering just below the surface.

After he’d had enough of his men’s antics, he finally made the decision to call you. He swore he felt Hell freezing over when you answered the line, all chirpy and upbeat as usual. It was infuriating how effortlessly you managed to sound cheerful when he was at his wit's end at the brothel.

"What can I do for you?"

Ezek snarled before he forced the words out of his mouth. "I have a deal for you."

His idea was simple: you could come and go as you pleased for free, as long as you showed him why the monsters who were supposed to work for him and generate profit acted like you were the one who owned the place. It was a way for him to regain some semblance of control while getting rid of you for good.

"I will be there," you agreed.

The room he chose is simple, with low lights that cast a warm, inviting glow all over. Neatly arranged sheets lie atop the bed, their sweet scent filling the air and mingling with the subtle hints of something floral and fresh.

"I need the bathroom first," you say, already putting down your purse and making your way to the other door.

"Sure," the male grunts in reply with a hint of disinterest in his voice as he loosens a few buttons of his shirt. The fabric parts, revealing a glimpse of his skin.

He settles down on the bed, leaning back against the plush headboard while waiting for you. He can hear you moving around, and without realizing it, he steals glances toward the bathroom, his mind racing with thoughts he can't quite pin down. You are a lively little thing, radiating so much brightness that he has no choice but to feel both frustrated and intrigued at the same time. It doesn’t matter, though. After this night, he will show you that you have no place here, and everyone can move on without making his life impossible. The thought solidifies in his mind. He’s determined to reclaim his authority, to restore order among the chaos you've brought. This night will serve as a reminder to both you and his men that while your presence may be captivating, it’s also fleeting, a temporary distraction that he intends to put an end to.

When you appear at the doorway a few minutes later, he can’t help but be surprised at the sight of you. He expected you to go all out to impress him, but instead, you are clad in nothing but simple white underwear that fits snugly over your curves. Ezek feels a mix of admiration and irritation stir within him as he lets his gaze rake over your soft body. It’s disarming, and he can’t shake the feeling that you are effortlessly turning the tables on him, challenging his resolve in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

"What do you think?" you ask him with a big smile on your face. You twirl around to show him more, though there isn’t much to reveal when it comes to your underwear. It looks soft and comfortable, but his attention is quickly drawn to the plush curve of your ass before you turn back to face him. "I bought it just yesterday."

For a long second, Ezek is silent, taking in the sight of you. Did you really buy this for tonight? But he doesn’t voice any of this, though. While you’re nothing but an annoying little pest in his life, he has no desire to hurt your feelings or damage your self-esteem. Besides, he knows his men would burn him alive if they sensed he’d crossed that line. Instead, he clenches his jaw, torn between frustration and a reluctant admiration for your naiveness.

"You look stunning."

And he isn’t lying. Your natural confidence shines brighter than any lingerie ever could. The soft glow of your skin under the dim lights enhances your allure, and he can’t tear his eyes away from the thin fabric of your bra, clinging to you and showing off your hard nipples. It’s a sight that pulls his focus, stirring something deep within him that he’s too annoyed to confront. Even in something so simple, you manage to captivate him in a way he didn’t expect, and it leaves him grappling with a newfound awareness of just how potent your presence can be.

Moving on the bed, Ezek lets his legs fall onto the plush carpet as he leans slightly onto his knees.

"Come here," he commands, locking his gaze onto yours the whole time.

Maybe he is struggling to find his footing in this situation, but he sure won’t let you lead this dance between the two of you.

_

His long fingers grip your hips with bruising force, digging into the soft skin as he struggles to find control. It’s as if he can’t decide whether to stop you or urge you to move faster, making you bounce harder on his lap. It feels like his brain shut down the moment you climbed onto his lap an hour ago, and now all he can focus on is the heat of your body. Your warmth presses into him in a way that makes it impossible to think straight. Every shift of your body and every roll of your hips sends a fresh jolt through him, and he’s not sure if it’s pleasure or frustration that makes his grip tighten even more. Probably both. His breath comes out ragged, catching in his chest as he tries to steady himself, but it's a losing battle. Every time he thinks he is regaining control, you shift or press closer, and the edges of his thoughts blur again.

You are on his lap, riding him with a relentless rhythm. Your warm, slick heat envelopes him with every bounce. The sound of your bodies colliding, skin slapping against skin, fills the otherwise quiet room, blending with the soft creak of the bed beneath you. If Ezek could muster even a shred of sanity, he’d be irritated by the rhythmic noise. He sure will change every bed in this damn brothel the moment he can think again. But right now, every coherent thought slips through his grasp like sand. His fingers press deeper into your soft flesh, trying to steady you, or perhaps himself, as each movement sends a fresh surge of pleasure through him. It’s maddening, the way you ride him, guiding the pace with a confidence that both frustrates and excites him.

"Ezek," you moan above him. The high, desperate sound wraps around him like a vice, pulling tight, and he feels his erection jerk inside your wet, clenching heat.

A low growl rumbles from his chest. His teeth grind together at the way you moan his name, and then your hands slip from the headboard to wrap around his horns. The sudden, sharp tug on his skull makes his vision go white-hot at the edges as a shudder of raw sensation courses down his spine. His hips buck upward in a frantic, uncontrolled thrust that has him driving deeper inside you. The pressure of your grip on his horns leaves him reeling, forcing out another growl from deep in his throat as his body responds to you in ways he can’t quite rein in. He holds you down, forcing you to stay tight and snug around his cock as he grinds his hips up into you. He can feel the slick warmth of his previous release as it seeps out of your used hole, dripping around the base of his cock with every thrust. The sensation is filthy, spurring him on further to push into you with a rough determination that leaves your pussy clenching around him.

"Fuck," the demon snarls, his voice rough and guttural as he pushes himself up on the bed.

He moves with a sudden, feral urgency, crowding you beneath his larger frame. With a swift motion, he flips you onto your stomach, forcing your chest down into the rumpled sheets while your surprised squeal echoes in the room. His palm presses down firmly on the small of your back, pinning you in place as he shifts one of your legs to the side, spreading you open. The position leaves your pussy swollen and easily accessible.

"Ezek!" His name falls from your lips like a breathless plea as he drives into you again. Your body arches instinctively, responding to the overwhelming pleasure. His hips snap forward with an animalistic force. Each stroke is deep and unrelenting as if he’s determined to imprint himself into every part of you. You can feel him everywhere, the heat of his body against yours, the way his presence fills the space around you, making it feel both electric and consuming.

The male leans over you, his breath is hot against your ear as he growls. "Cum around me, Y/N." The weight of his body presses down. Your ass is soft and plush against his pelvis. Each thrust drives him deeper, pushing you closer to the edge.

The demon's muscles are taut as he holds himself above you. He can feel the familiar tingle at the base of his spine, a sign that he is nearing his own release. His balls pull tight, the need to fill you up almost primal, urging him on with a ferocity that makes his heart race. He digs his fingers into the sheets, anchoring himself as he quickens his pace.

“Y/N,” he growls, his voice low and raw. "Let go for me."

The tight, urging command is the final push you need. He swears he could break his own teeth by the force he closes his mouth as your warm pussy clutches and pulses around him. The feeling of you milking his already sensitive cock snaps the molten heat pooling low in his stomach. It’s as if every nerve ending in his body ignites at once, stealing his breath away for several long seconds. The tight grip of your warmth around him pushes him to the brink, and he can't help but growl as he feels his release barreling toward him, unstoppable.

With a final, deep thrust, he lets go, filling you completely as he shudders in ecstasy. Thick spurts of his cum paint your tightening walls. The warmth of him floods you in waves that send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through both of you. He can feel the pearly white liquid drip down, smearing over your joined skin.

As he finally catches his breath, he collapses onto the bed next to you, chest heaving and the world still spinning. For a long while, both of you lie sprawled out on the bed, the air warm and thick with the mingled scent of your arousal. He turns his head to glance at you, and a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. The dim light casts a soft glow across your features, highlighting the contentment etched on your face. It’s a sight that sends a wave of satisfaction through him.

He takes a moment to soak it all in.

Until you break the silence.

“Do you think if I give you some time, you’ll be ready for another round?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows. Your voice is hoarse, yet as cheerful and bright as ever.

The question catches the demon off guard, leaving him momentarily breathless as he stares at you in disbelief. “Wha'?”

You shrug with a playful glint in your eyes. “You are better than I thought.”

The praise ignites a fire within him, causing his blood to boil. His usual scowl returns, hardening the sharp lines of his features as he processes your words.

For a few silent seconds, you hold his gaze, tilting your head slightly as if trying to decipher his reaction. “That’s a no?”

The demon groans, frustration creeping into his voice as he glances up at the ceiling. “Go and find your boys.”

“And what if I do that thing with my tongue again?” you ask. The sultry tilt in your voice sends a jolt of arousal and pain through his already spent cock, making it twitch in response.

Well, call him a machoist... "Give me ten minutes."

He will hear about this from the others anyway when you saunter into the brothel, so why shouldn't he enjoy it while he can?

[muntitled]

Condom or No Condom: Dreamy Edition

-' 7dream x afab!reader

-' Which dreamies are wrapping it up

-' cw: +18, mdni, Name calling, Breeding Kink, Coercion, Degradation Kink

Missed Renjun <3

# Mark | No Condom

-a very shy boy at times but his kinks are anything but

- the type to verbalize his interests in different kinks with small actions so you'd really need to pay attention

- Mark would intentionally forget to buy condoms

- Recently he'd be staying inside you longer.

He'd already be easing you out of your clothes, leaving wet kisses along your soft abdomen as you begin to tug on his long brown strands.

You'd already been wet for him a long tine ago, Mark just needed you especially pliant for when he could really start talking his shit, "You know how good you'd look with my baby inside you?" Mark's panting heavily, "Dude, seriously,"

Your hips would stutter upwards without you even meaning to, quickly prompting Mark to undo the drawstring of his sweatpants.

"You like that idea, yeah?"

You'd watch through hazy eyes as Mark pulls his cock just enough to line it up at your entrance. "Want me to hit it raw? Huh, Pretty Girl- fuck-" Just saying those words out loud has his cock twitching eagerly. Mark would be a heaving mess as he presses hich cock into your cunt. The sensation of your bare skin against his would give him brain fog, making him tremble as he kissed against your neck.

"Fuck, I'm gonna breed you, baby-" he'd kiss you again non stop, "Gonna breed my baby..."

# Renjun | Condom

- he can be persuaded into forgoing one but you'd need to construct an incredibly good argument (no you wont)

- the moment the idea falls from your lips, Renjun can't help the desire that runs through his stomach

- still, he'd try to be a good boyfriend. A responsible boyfriend.

"Why are you so scared to fuck me today?" You'd whisper into Renjun's ear, wholly frustrated from this make out sessions that has lasted for way too long. "We're not high schoolers, Ren, why aren't you inside me?"

He'd sigh in frustration as his threw his hand backwards on the pillows scattered around your bed. His hands naturally going to your hips.

"Condoms-" he'd sigh in frustration before peeking up from her palm of his hands

"I forgot to buy more-"

You had continued kissing up the side of his neck. Renjuin shivered when your tongue slithered out to lick a long stripe down his neck. "Thats fine."

His eyes are wide and so incredibly hungry when he swallows and asks. "Thats fine?"

"Thats fine," you'd nod. "Im on birth control-"

"Shit, why didn't you say this sooner-" he'd grumble

# Jeno | No Condom

- As soon as you're dating he'd forgo buying condoms altogether

- he actually thinks it's weird and unnatural not to have raw sex with his girl who's both tested and loyal

- this would also spur on his breeding kink

Jeno's teeth sink into your collarbone as he fucks you roughly against the wall. Like a dog in heat, the sound of your body snapping together is the only thing that fills the entire room.

"Such a pretty slut," he'd muttered through clenched teeth. "You only let me fuck you like this?" He'd have his palms locked around your neck as he watches you wrestle to stay conscious, "You only let me fuck you like this?" He'd repeat, this time with a much firmer voice.

Your lips trmeble as you say, "Only you Nono-"

"Fuck, I'm cumming-" and he would. The thought of you belonging to him being more than enough.

# Haechan | No Condom

- A menace in disguise

- For the better part of the relationship he'd entertain you and your 'we need a condom" narrative

- Boring

- He'd roll his eyes

- Until one day he just stops buying them altogether

- And then he'd throw away the condoms you kept in your house too

- And then he'd throw your birth control pills down the drain

He's whispering the most vile things into your ear as you sat on his lap, legs spread open as his fingers repeatedly stab your cunt.

His voice is low, in the way you like and your eyes are squeezed shut as you picture every filthy thing he's saying to you.

"God, Hyuck-"

"Listen to how wet you are- you want me to stick my cock inside you, huh? You wanna squeeze this tight pussy around Hyuck's cock?

"Fuck I'm, so close,' his thumb circles your clit, "I'm gonna fill you up so good, babe I promise-" you'd be done for, cumming everywhere as your body spasmed around his fingers.

"F-Fuck-"

"Great so we're on the same page then?" He'd ask,

"Huh?" You'd crane your lightheaded-head backwards, watching him with hazy eyes.

"No more condoms? We're on the same page"

"Hyuck when did i-"

"Exhibit a- he'd say, showing you his cum covered fingers glistening with your arousal.

# Jaemin | No Condom

- Jaemin considers himself a perfectly cautious guy. He is reliable and responsible, thank you very much.

- He just didn't really see much need for a condom anymore.

-He's growing tired of pulling out everytime

- He's a romantic

- He needs to feel close to you.

- When you slip up and tell him you're on birth control he's absolutely done for.

- He'd been dreaming about this since you started being intimate.

- since the thought of spurting his cum inside you had been rendering him absolutely feral

"Sorry," Jaemin said, lowering his iPad as he stared at you from across the couch, "What"d you just say?"

"I'm on birth control- hope that's okay-" your eyes would nearly fall out of your sockets as your boyfriend begins stripping right in front of you.

# Chen Le | No Condom

- He's thought about it... of course he's thought about it

- Chenle isn't too open about Sex until it's happening right in front of his eyes

- Only when the environment calls for it, would you even feel comfortable enough suggesting something so lewd

- the thing about that is, although he might not voice all his sexual interests allowed, there will be signs

"Jesus, what the fuck did you say to me?" Chenle had removed his headset, swiveling in his chair to stare at you wide eyed. From your spot on his bed you roll your eyes, as you tap away at your screen. "Oh so you're too busy gaming with your friends whenever i ask anything important. But the second I tell you I wanna feel you inside me, then you can hear me,"

Chenle's hand rushes to adjust the bulge forming in his sweatpants, lest he cums right there. He murmers in mandarin before severing the line as he rests his headsets on the table, fully gaining his attention. "Oh my god you're such a fucking slut-" he smirks as he slowly stands from his gaming chair. You swallowed thickly as he talks towards the bed. The environment being apparently perfect enough for Chenle's mouth to spew whatever it wanted.

"You wanna be my little slut huh? Just mine?"

# Jisung | No Condom

- a very shy boy

- a very perverted boy

- of course he's thought about hitting it raw before

- he's gotten off the the idea of breeding you ever since you became a couple.

- it was be the biggest thing on the forefront of his mind

"Wanna feel you- Jisungie," you were grinding yourself on his lap, prompted by his trembling hands guiding your hips on top of him. Jisung's mind was rotten with all the dirty things he'd dream about doing to you. This being at the top of his list.

"I need you inside mee-" you'd whisper in his ear, prompting him to gasp as his hips stutter upwards into yours. You could feel the size of his bulge underneath his clothes. You could feel the desperation with which he grinded his cock along your crotch, hoping for even the tiniest bit of friction.

"You wanna do me raw, Sungie?"

The second those words leave your mouth, a wet spot begins to form in his pants as he cuts accidently.

"F-Fuck-" he couldn't stop himself.

Despite this, Jisung's cock is still hard.