#if I can keep it up for a bit I might even drop the little stickers down a tier

[0cta9on]

Moon Rabbit

Length: +12k words

Genre: Smut

Gfriend/Viviz Eunha x Male Reader

(Author's Note: This is like 90% story and 10% smut, but I hope y'all enjoy anyways :> Thank you to @msafterhours for beta, this story wouldn't be alive without you <3 Enjoy!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Amongst the monotonous drone of the harsh fluorescent lights and the mysterious smell emanating from the bathrooms, it’s hard not to feel a little pessimistic about life. It would be so easy to air out your long list of grievances to anyone that’ll listen, but complaining to the kind of people this place attracts—late night travelers who’d struggle putting two and two together— is always more trouble than it’s worth.

“Welcome to 7/11!” 

The ring of the entrance chime followed by the soft yet enthusiastic voice of your coworker is a constant that you have yet to get used to, even after a whole three weeks of hearing it nonstop. You told Eunha plenty of times before that she doesn’t have to greet the customers, yet she continues to do so anyway, something about “responsibility” and “upholding the company’s image”—as if the company’s image isn’t rotisserie hot dogs and gallon-sized slushies. 

At best, she’ll get a polite nod, at worst, they scoff and act as if a simple gesture is the worst thing that’s ever happened to them. Her greetings might be more suited to the morning crowd, but she insists that she’s not much of a morning person. You don’t exactly care enough to verify her statements, so you’re content with her keeping you company during the night shift.

“Let me know if you need help with anything!” Eunha calls out to the customer as he aimlessly wanders through the aisles. You’ve grown accustomed to the late night visits from these kinds of people, guys in their early 20’s who seem either too drunk and/or faded to respond properly; hopefully, he’ll just quietly pay for his things and leave without any trouble.

“Yo,” he utters, carelessly dropping a single beer can and a box of large condoms onto the counter. You give him a curt nod, trying not to make a face as the violent stench of weed attacks your nostrils. Figures.

“$7.50.”

“Hey bro, do you know if that chick over there has a boyfriend?” He looks over at Eunha as she stocks the shelves, baggy eyes tracing her body through a half-lidded gaze. You simply shrug. Whatever she does outside of work is none of your business.

The man chuckles to himself, grabbing his things off the counter. “Watch this.” He saunters over to her and engages in a conversation that you can’t quite make out. Even as you try to distract yourself with other work, you can’t help but tense up slightly, stealing glances towards your coworker. 

Eunha puts on her signature smile, nodding her head to everything he’s saying. Occasionally she’ll laugh, more so out of politeness than anything. If you would have to describe her with one word, “polite” would probably be enough. Maybe overly so, but hey, who’re you to judge her of all people about small talk?

Then, you notice a small crack in her expression. The corners of her lips drop ever so slightly. Her eyes widen just a smidge. Now he’s walking towards her, backing her up into a corner, like a predator stalking its prey. 

You’ve learned not to stick your nose into other people’s business; even the simple act of lending an ear has cost you time and energy that ultimately led you to getting kicked to the curb the second you’re no longer of use. It’s exhausting. You’d do anything to forget that kind of pain, even if it means your existence is a bit lonelier. And yet, despite your better judgment, you grab a spare broom and begin sweeping towards the problem, stepping in between them right as Eunha’s back hits one of the fridges.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, your eyes never leaving the ground.

“Bro, what the fuck are you—”

“I’m trying to do my job,” you state, jerking your neck to glare at him. The man scoffs in annoyance before stomping towards the exit, grumbling incoherently while he knocks a couple chip bags off the shelves.

“Thanks,” Eunha says, breathing a sigh of relief. “He kept asking for my number and wouldn’t stop after I said ‘no’. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t here.”

You shrug, continuing to sweep the rest of the store. In hindsight, there might not have been a need for you to intervene in the first place; Eunha is a grown woman that can probably take care of herself, and what kind of damage could a guy like that do anyways? Yet, despite everything, you still chose to play the hero. What’s done is done.

As you go back to your place by the register, you notice Eunha beaming brighter than ever before despite no one else being around.

______________________________________________________________

Eunha groans, face planting into the counter. “I’m bored.”

“You could deep clean the coffee machine,” you suggest, eliciting an even louder groan from her.

You think about telling her to switch to the afternoon shift, but refrain from it in the end, figuring she probably has her own reasons for wanting to work this late. You chose the night shift out of necessity more than anything. Countless sleepless nights led you to the conclusion that you might as well get some compensation for your suffering.

Eunha’s face suddenly lights up as she goes over to the fridges and grabs two beer cans. “We should drink!” she says.

“Those are for the customers,” you state.

“I’ll pay for them, dummy. Besides, there’s literally nothing else to do. No one has stopped by for hours.”

You stare at her pleading face, slightly impressed by how well she manages to pull off “puppy-dog eyes”. You don’t consider yourself much of a drinker—going down that road only left you with an unbearable sickness that made “taking the edge off” not even worth it—but a hunch in the back of your mind tells you to go for it anyways. Maybe “puppy-dog eyes” actually do work; maybe the boredom’s gotten to you too.

“Woohoo!” she cheers. “Let’s go sit out front! I wanna look at the stars.” Eunha grabs the cans and a large bag of chips from the shelf before running out of the store with the excitement of a kid in a candy store. With a sigh, you follow behind her.

Your breath catches in your throat as the outside chill hits you like a speeding train, sending an unpleasant shiver through your spine that makes you regret even considering this stupid idea. You turn to retreat back to the warmth of the store, but a brief glimpse of Eunha waving you down with such genuine enthusiasm pulls you in, and before you can even think to stop yourself, you’re already grabbing the beer can from her outstretched hand. 

“Isn’t it beautiful tonight?” she comments, gazing up at the stars above. It’s… nice. Better than the harsh fluorescent lights of the store, for sure.

“Yeah,” you utter, taking a swig from your can. You grimace at the bitterness, a reminder of why you stopped in the first place.

“Woah pal, I don’t need to hear your life story,” she quips, chuckling at her own joke. “Isn’t this better than being stuck in that smelly old store all night?”

You shrug. “It’s… alright, I guess.”

She stares at you for a while, studying your expression with a focused squint.

“...What?” you mutter, suddenly feeling self-conscious under her gaze.

“Nothing, sorry.” She shakes her head, her gaze falling to the unopened beer in her hands. A tense moment passes before she finally clicks it open and takes a small sip, wincing as she swallows the bitter liquid. “Um, do you… hate me or something?”

You turn to her in confusion. “Hate” isn’t a word you associate with Eunha. Truly, you don’t think anyone could hate someone like her. Maybe you get a little irked by her inability to set up the shelves properly, but nobody’s perfect, least of all you. In fact, you don’t have any strong feelings about her one way or another. She’s just your coworker. 

Just that. 

Nothing else.

“No, not at all,” you reply.

A small grin forms on Eunha’s lips. “That’s good. I was worried that maybe I did something and that’s why you never talk to me.”

Huh? “I talk to you.”

“Yeah, no, I mean, like, really talking. Not just about work and stuff,” she explains. “We’ve been working together for, like, months and I barely know anything about you!”

“It’s barely been three weeks,” you correct her, earning a dramatic eye roll. “Do you really need to know anything about me to work here?”

Eunha grimaces at your answer. “I guess not, but it would be nice to know if I’m working with a serial killer or not.” She takes another small sip from her can, tension seeping into the frigid air between you two.

“I’m not a serial killer,” you state.

“Well, I wouldn’t know that if you didn’t tell me.”

“I could be lying.”

She turns to you, studying your expression with an intense focus. “Hmm… I don’t think you’re lying.”

“You think?” You raise an eyebrow at her.

She shrugs. “For starters, aren’t most serial killers supposed to be charming to lure in their victims and stuff? No offense, but you’re the least charming person I’ve ever met.”

“Better than being a serial killer I guess.”

She chuckles to herself, dissolving any lingering tension in the air. “So you have a sense of humor. That’s good to know.”

“I guess I do.”

Eunha lifts her can towards you, flashing you a warm smile that wards away the bitter winds. You watch as the corners of her lips curl at a certain angle, her eyes squinting ever so slightly to make room to smile even wider. How impossibly white and symmetrical her teeth are, as if god or whoever is up there took their time creating her. In hindsight, she’s probably perfect for this job - kind, inviting, instantly putting you at ease with a single glance. A smile seems so natural on her, it feels like the sky would fall if it disappeared from her face for even a moment.

“Hello?” She waves her hand in front of your face. “My arm is getting tired here, are you gonna cheers me or not?”

You shake your head. “Right. Sorry.” You clink your can against hers before bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste of alcohol is nonexistent at this point, replaced by subtle yet present undertones of sweetness. You peek through the top of the can, confirming that it’s still the same old cheap beer it was mere seconds ago. Yet, for now, it’s just a little more bearable.

______________________________________________________________

To put it lightly, this fucking sucks.

The shadows dance and jeer at you from your ceiling as if to celebrate your misfortune. All you can do is watch the show play out as you barely cling to life. An earlier Google search of your symptoms tells you that it’s just “a common cold”, but you’d swear Death itself has a personal vendetta with you, cursing you with rusty lungs and cinder blocks for limbs. Regretfully, you retrieve your phone from your nightstand, sending Eunha a text that you aren’t able to make it to work tonight.

A sudden weight jumping onto your chest causes you to drop your phone onto the floor. Two yellow marbles coldly stare at you through the darkness, silently judging your poor condition.

“Y-Yokai, please… I can’t b-breathe…” With weak hands, you try to gently push your cat off of your chest, but it’s no use. Every time you try to get close, the little beast nips at your fingers. 

This is it. This is how you die. You never believed in the superstition about black cats, but perhaps you should’ve heeded its warning. Maybe this is his way of telling you that he never liked you in the first place, in spite of all you’ve done for him as his caretaker. Years from now, when someone finally notices that you’re missing, they’ll find your corpse with Yokai resting right on top, like he’s gloating about outliving you. You shut your eyes, quickly accepting your fate. On the brightside, maybe you’ll finally get some sleep for once.

A knock on your front door causes him to jump off your chest to inspect the noise. You silently thank the stranger at your front door as your lungs finally fill with air. As far as you’re concerned, they just saved your life.

WIth a blanket wrapped around you, you struggle against your headache and stumble towards the door. The person on the other side makes you wonder if you should add hallucinations to your list of symptoms.

“Hi!” Eunha beams at you, a plastic bag in her hands. “I brought you some stuff to help with your cold!”

“H-huh?” You stand there in shock, a million questions floating through your head. “What about the store?”

She shrugs. “I closed it for a bit. I’m sure the two customers that would’ve shown up tonight will live.”

Never in a million years did you expect anyone, aside from the occasional delivery man, to show up to your doorstep, let alone with the purpose of providing you aid. It’s… nice. You’re probably better off with a good night’s rest, but god knows you’ll never get one.

“Are you gonna invite me in? It’s rude to keep a woman waiting, y’know,” she teases.

“R-right.” You step aside, allowing her into your apartment that hasn’t seen another human soul the entire time you’ve lived in it. As luck would have it, another person arrives on the one day that you’re unable to clean anything. “Sorry about the mess.”

“It’s alright—Oh!” Yokai leaps from the shadows, stopping just a few feet in front of her to inspect the stranger entering his home. “Hi there! Oh my gosh, you’re so cute!”

Eunha kneels down to his level and offers her hand towards him. Taking the invitation, Yokai approaches her with cautious yet curious steps, his eyes dilated and ready. After a seemingly tense moment, his pupils soften as he presses his small face into her palms, accepting her enthusiastic pets.

“I can’t believe you never told me about your cat!” she playfully berates you. “What’s its name?”

“His name is Yokai,” you answer, collapsing haphazardly onto the couch. “Found him on the street when I first moved here.”

She raises an eyebrow at you. “You named your cat after Japanese demons?”

You shrug. “It seemed fitting at the time.”

Eunha chuckles, giving him one last pet before placing the bag on the table. “I brought you some cold meds, green tea, and a can of chicken soup. Is it alright if I use your kitchen to heat up the soup?”

You wave her off. “Thanks, but you don’t have to do that.”

She rolls her eyes at you, grabbing the can and walking over to the kitchen in defiance. “If I didn’t want to do this, I would’ve just dropped it off and left.”

With barely any energy left to argue, you resign yourself to resting your head against the armrest, listening to the clanging of metal and the creaking of wood as Eunha searches your cabinets for a pot. Three flickers followed by the gentle poof of the stovetop bring you back to simpler times when your mother would cook meals for you as a kid. That comforting feeling of knowing that everything would end up okay even if the current times are tough. 

A feeling you haven’t felt in a long time.

Hope isn’t something you like to cling onto; you know at this point that hoping for something as supposedly inevitable as sleep is a waste of time. Some nights you’ll get lucky, the stars will align and you’ll fade into bliss as soon as your head hits the pillow, but those nights are so few and far between that they might as well be nothing but coincidences. It was much harder during the earlier days. Countless checkups, thousands of desperate Google searches and Reddit posts, downing melatonin like the next gummy could solve all your problems.

And yet, as the savory scent of chicken soup lingers closer, you can feel your eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Eunha says, nudging you gently. “The soup is gonna get cold if you don’t eat it now.”

“Right.” You sit up, finding yourself mere inches from her bright smile, the steam from the soup wafting in between you two. She brings a spoonful of the warming liquid to your lips, blowing on it first to cool it down.

“Open wide,” she says.

“I can feed myself.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Humor me for a sec. Besides, when’s the next time a pretty girl like me is gonna spoon feed you soup?”

You stifle a chuckle at her shamelessness, reluctantly parting your lips. The saltiness washes over your tastebuds, warming your entire body as the liquid slides down your throat. It’s the same cheap chicken soup you’ve eaten before when money was scarce, yet something about it feels different; like it’s healing your heart, not your stomach. Perhaps your illness is messing with your tastebuds, but whatever the reason, it tastes way better than it normally would.

“See, was that so hard?” Eunha teases. A buzz from her pocket interrupts her from giving you a second spoonful. “Sorry, I need to take this real quick, it’s my boyfriend.”

So she does have a boyfriend. 

“Yeah, go ahead,” you say, retrieving the bowl from her. She gives you an appreciative grin before walking over to the kitchen and answering the call.

Whatever goes on in Eunha’s personal life is her business, not yours. Yet, you can’t exactly stop your ears from catching onto glimpses of words, attempting to decipher some kind of meaning through the fog. None of it is coherent, but her disappointed sighs and harsh whispers don’t exactly paint a pretty picture—certainly not one you expect from a loving couple.

After a brief moment, Eunha walks back into the living room, her expression noticeably darker than before. The smile that she usually dons is jarringly absent and her eyes are glossy, as if she’s on the brink of tears.

“Sorry, um… I have to go,” she mutters, unable to meet your eyes. “I have to pick up my boyfriend, he’s, uh… been drinking again.”

You can’t help but feel worried at her sudden downtrodden look, unfamiliar on her face. “That’s alright. Will you be okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be fine.” She tries to put on a reassuring smile, but the look of dread dripping from her eyes and the lack of soul in her expression only leaves you more anxious than before. “He gets like this sometimes. It’s… nothing, really.”

An unfamiliar feeling grows in the pit of your stomach, an urge to provide some ounce of comfort. But this isn’t your place to intervene; that’s what you keep telling yourself, at least.

“I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow then? Or whenever you feel better.” Eunha quickly gathers her things and heads towards the door, but Yokai jumps in front of her.

“Bye, Yokai. I hope this isn’t the only time I see you,” she says, offering him a few gentle pets. Right before she disappears behind the door, Eunha looks back at you, holding an expression you can’t quite read. The door shuts with an audible click, and the vast emptiness of your apartment envelopes you once again.

Suffice to say, you don’t get much sleep that night.

______________________________________________________________

“So…” Eunha tilts her head to give you a better look. “What do you think?”

You shrug. “It’s… pink.”

Her lips curl into a pout, unsatisfied with your answer. “This is the first time you’ve seen me dye my hair and that’s all you can say?”

It’s another quiet night at the store, somehow quieter than usual. These late night chats with Eunha have become a sort of tradition between you two, a tradition you’ve grown decently fond of these past few weeks. Nowadays, she doesn’t even bother with the alcohol, instead simply asking you if you want to watch the stars with her. The chilly nights are still a bit bothersome, but the company more than makes up for it at this point. 

Conversations mostly consist of listening to her talk about things in her personal life, her school, her friends, and occasionally, her boyfriend. Sometimes she’ll ask questions about your own life. You try your best to answer, but frankly, you don’t consider there to be anything worth noting. She’ll pry a bit, but respects your choice to be quiet about these things. A gesture that you’ve come to appreciate.

“What am I supposed to say?” you ask her.

“Anything,” she says. “Whatever’s on your mind. I just wanna know what your opinion is.”

“But it’s your hair, why should my opinion matter?”

“Maybe it doesn’t, but that doesn’t make me any less curious.” She shifts herself towards you, giving you a good view of her new look. “So, tell me. What do you think?”

A loaded question for sure. You know better than to be too honest about these kinds of things, but you also know that she won’t be satisfied unless you put effort towards a real, honest answer. You lean in to better analyze her features, tracing every single detail of not just her hair but the visage that it crowns.

She’s cute, you think. You know. The bright pink of her hair brings out the porcelain of her skin, giving her the appearance of a doll, well crafted and loved by its creator. Every single feature is perfectly and meticulously placed, down to the spacing of her eyelashes and the angle of her nose. It’s no surprise the amount of stories she has about getting hit on in random places. Maybe if you had a bit more confidence and a bit less sense, you would’ve ended up like one of those stories. But you know better than to indulge those kinds of thoughts, especially one about a coworker.

“It looks… nice,” you utter after a moment of thinking.

Eunha softly chuckles to herself. “I guess that’s about as good of an answer I’m gonna get from you.” She leans back against her palms, releasing a deep breath into the night. “You’re pretty fun to talk to.”

You raise an eyebrow at her. 99% of your conversations consist of her talking while you listen and offer the occasional nod. She might as well be speaking to a brick wall with a conscience.

“I’m serious,” she says, laughing at your expression. “Y’know, a lot of girls like a guy that can listen as well as you do.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

Her lips quiver in hesitation before speaking again. “Do you… have a girlfriend?”

You shake your head no.

“Boyfriend? Partner? I don’t judge.”

No again.

“Hmm…” She nods, her mind falling into deep thought. “That’s surprising.”

“Is it?” you argue. “If I remember correctly, you said I was ‘the least charming person you’ve ever met’.”

“That was a joke!” she exclaims. “I’m sure there’s someone out there that thinks you’re charming.”

You shrug, letting your gaze float to the stars in contemplation. You’ve had your fair share of relationships in the past, good and bad. You thought you would spend the rest of your life with the last girl, but as fate would have it, that just wasn’t in the cards for either of you. The days spent lazing in each other’s arms suddenly turned into nights where being in the same room was unbearable, and the minor quirks you once adored became the topic of all your shouting matches that punctuated the end of your relationship.

So now you’re here, working at a convenience store during the ungodly hours of the night and going home to a cat that likely wants you dead.

“That’s a possibility,” you say, not wanting to sound too nihilistic.

“Come on, give yourself some credit.” Eunha pats your shoulder supportively. “I’ve seen how some of the female customers look at you.”

You can’t help but grimace at her words. “They’re not really… my type.”

“Then what is your type?” she asks, eyes wide with intrigue.

Another loaded question, one that you honestly don’t know the answer to. Or perhaps, an answer that you don’t want to materialize, for fear of the can of worms it would open, so you take the easy way out.

“I don’t know. I’m not really interested in dating right now.”

“That’s lame, dating is… Well, it should be fun,” she says. A glimpse of something hides beneath her expression, nigh imperceptible if it wasn’t for that brief glint in her eyes. “I’m going to a club with my friends this weekend for my birthday, you should come! Maybe I can set you up with one of them.”

“No, absolutely not,” you adamantly refuse. A club is the last place you would ever want to go to on a weekend. Bumping against sweaty strangers in a cramped space while bass boosted garbage spews from the speakers isn’t your idea of fun.

“Please, it’s for my birthday!” she begs. “It’ll be fun, I swear!”

“Eunha.”

She clasps her hands together, pouting her lip and flashing you those large puppy eyes. “Please~”

You don’t consider yourself to be spineless or a pushover; the exact opposite, in fact. The less you do for others, the less issues you’ll have going forward.

But it is really, really difficult to say no whenever she gives you that face.

You sigh, averting your gaze to hide the blush creeping against your cheeks. “...What does your friend look like?”

Eunha squeals in delight, fishing her phone from her pocket. “Here.”

She hands you her phone, displaying a photo of a woman around your age. Long, wavy hair cascades perfectly down her shoulders, framing her delicate features, while a dress made of fiery purples and reds clings to her slim frame, giving her an air of class and maturity. A woman that’s, to put it bluntly, way out of your league.

“Her name is Yuju,” Eunha explains. “She’s really into music, and she takes pole dancing classes on the weekends. Pretty hot, eh?” 

“I suppose,” you say. “You think she’ll find me ‘charming’?”

“Ye—Hmm… I guess we’ll find out.”

Not reassuring in the slightest. You’ve gone and doomed yourself to a weekend of brushing backsides with the worst people you can imagine, people who have no regard for personal space or public perception, all for a woman you don’t know.

Well, not a woman you don’t know. It’s for Eunha’s birthday, after all. Her and those damn eyes.

______________________________________________________________

Eunha is good company. You like having her around, even if you’ll never admit that to her. She’s good—decent at her job, and in between the stench of hot dogs and the occasional rude customer, there’s comfort in knowing that there’s someone like her on this godforsaken planet.

You can’t say the same about her friends.

“Hey~!”

“OMG, you’re so tall!”

“Eunha, your friend is so handsome!”

Skip the pleasantries entirely, you’d rather be anywhere but here right now. They don’t even try to hide their early signs of intoxication as they sway to the muffled beats leaking through the walls of the club and onto the streets outside. Eunha, seemingly sensing your discomfort, stays by your side.

“They can be a handful at times, but they’re nice,” Eunha says.

“Eh… What about her?” You discreetly gesture towards one of her friends that’s been sending you death threats through a not-so-subtle glare the second you arrived.

“Oh, that’s SinB. She’s, uh… She’s friendly once you get to know her.” Eunha gives you a small yet reassuring grin, which honestly does little to comfort you. You appreciate the gesture nonetheless.

The line creeps ever closer towards the entrance of the club, signified by the trashy music growing louder with each step. Just a peek through the door and you’re already grimacing at the thought of having to spend a single second in this wretched haven of hedonism.

“Which one is Yuju?” you ask, trying to get your mind off of the impending dread building in your stomach.

“She’s running a little late, stuck in traffic.” Eunha smirks at you, waggling her eyebrows. “You excited to meet her in person?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. I guess?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Word of advice, try not to be too much of an emotionless robot in front of her.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the bass blasting from the speakers drowns out anything you try to say. Not like you can even think of a proper argument with how overwhelming everything is. 

As you follow Eunha deeper into the club, you instantly regret not making up some lame excuse at the last minute and bolting. You can barely take two steps without bumping into anyone, a task made more difficult with the lack of proper lighting and the disorienting stench of some unknown substance floating around. The smell emanating from the hot dog machine at work is more favorable to this.

“Here you go, girl!” one of Eunha’s friends exclaims, gesturing towards a seating area sectioned off with velvet rope. On the table sits a light up centerpiece reading “Happy Birthday, Eunha!” surrounded by an abundance of expensive-looking alcohol. Her friend must be loaded because there’s no way Eunha could afford any of this with a convenience store salary. Consequently, your present for her pales in comparison to this kind of extravagance.

“Oh my god!” Eunha squeals, hopping with excitement, “Thank you so much, this is insane!”

The way her face lights up with happiness almost makes coming here worth it. So, you do your best to endure, downing shot after shot with everyone else while trashy music bleeds into your brain. Eunha steals glances at you from the far end of the booth, offering an apologetic look as her rowdier friends bombard you with incoherent words and shot glasses overflowing with poison. You meet each look with a smile and a simple wave, yet it’s becoming an increasingly herculean task to not let the lingering burn of alcohol in your throat manifest itself onto your visage.

A woman with long wavy hair approaches Eunha, and the two pull each other into a giddy embrace, exchanging words and excited giggles. You can’t quite make out their conversation—not like you’re trying to eavesdrop—but with the way Eunha is pointing at you and the vaguely familiar silhouette of the other woman, you’d have to guess that she’s probably Yuju.

“Hello!” she hollers, her voice straining against the distorted thump of the speakers. “Are you Eunha’s friend?”

“Yeah.”

Yuju extends her hand towards you, sporting a polite grin. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

In any other scenario, maybe you could’ve had a decent conversation with her. Hell, maybe you could’ve even fallen in love with her. You’re not blind; she’s certainly an attractive woman. But in a place like this, where you’re constantly fighting the urge to up and leave, it’s impossible to try and form any kind of connection. And you genuinely try. More for Eunha’s sake than yours, but the attempt is still there.

Halfway through the barely discernible wall of words, you feel a pressure on your thigh. It creeps upwards slowly, inch by inch, stopping just shy of your crotch. Yuju bites her lip at you, her eyes half-lidded and heavy with seduction, leaning in until you can feel the heat from her breath against your ear. Thus far, you’ve been guessing her words and trying to formulate a response based on what you could lip read. But what she whispers into your ear rings true, like the whole world went silent just so you could hear her.

“Let’s cut the bullshit already and get to the fun part. I haven’t had dick in so long, I just need to feel you inside me.”

The rush of adrenaline sparked from her words alone leaves you reeling as you feel yourself being tugged around by this woman you just met, struggling to keep balance in the sea of faceless strangers. The sounds, the sights, the fucking everything about this place melts reality like goo seeping through your fingers, where the only constant is the fire in your windpipe and the sign for the women’s bathroom growing larger with each step.

This kind of spontaneity is probably good for someone like you. These days, you barely make an effort to make friends as it is, the thought of going out and actively trying to date didn’t even cross your mind until recently.  It’s not like the thought of having sex with Yuju doesn’t excite you a little, you are human after all. With all the bleak memories you have from your last relationship, maybe it’s time that you let it go and let something good happen to you for once.

But is this good? You’re about to have sex with a woman you just met, in the bathroom of a club of all places. Exciting, sure, but good? You don’t even have a condom on your person, and judging by her current state, it doesn’t seem like Yuju has one either. All you have is your wallet and Eunha’s gift.

Eunha.

By some act of divine intervention or your own instincts, your eyes snap to the middle of the dance floor. Through the sea of drunken silhouettes, you see Eunha, frozen against the continuous wave of moving bodies. Her smile is gone. There’s a man there, slowly encroaching on her. Maybe they’re just talking. Her friends are around, surely they can protect her if she’s in any danger.

But they’re not there. Most are still at the booth, inhaling bottle after bottle without a second thought, while one pulls you towards the bathroom, too horny to consider the consequences of her own actions. 

The man touches Eunha’s shoulder. She tries to swat him away, but he’s bigger than her. Much bigger. Like a vicious wolf cornering a poor rabbit.

Without another moment of hesitation, you break free from Yuju’s grasp, shoving your way through the crowd with complete disregard for everyone except Eunha. Most people will think you’re the biggest idiot for throwing away an opportunity with a woman like Yuju, but you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you choose meaningless sex over the safety of your only friend.

You grab the man’s wrist, pulling Eunha behind you. “Get away from her,” you growl.

“Fuck off.” He tries to shove you aside, but you stand firm, refusing to budge in the slightest. You’re probably—no, definitely—a fool for trying to stand up to a guy built like a fridge. The scrawny guy at the store is nothing compared to this giant meathead. But as you feel Eunha cling onto the back of your jacket, her hands trembling in fear, you know that you’ll stand before the wolf time and time again to protect the poor rabbit.

Before things can get even more heated, you grab Eunha and make a dash towards the exit, knocking over a few people in the process. Even so, you don’t stop running until the cool air of the outside bites at your cheeks.

“Shit,” you pant, leaning against the wall of a neighboring building to catch your breath. “Are you ok—”

Eunha wraps her arms around you, pressing her face into your chest. Every breath she takes quivers like the last leaf on a dying tree, desecrated by a furious storm. All you can do is hold her, trying to provide some ounce of comfort as she sobs in your arms.

The world is cruel to you, a fact you came to terms with long ago. It’s stolen many of the things you held dear, leaving you to cling to the pieces left behind and try to rebuild your life out of nothing. You built walls, avoided people entirely, did everything you could do so you never have to feel that kind of pain again. And after all that, you’re left to simply exist. Survive. Not ‘live’ in the way people somehow wake up with the sun and breathe in the dawn of a new day with hope in their hearts. Just be.

And then Eunha came into your life, walking into the doors of the convenience store with her bubbly smile and boundless energy. All the time you’ve worked alongside her, listening to her greet every single customer with such enthusiasm, enduring her brutally honest criticisms of your personality, succumbing to her demands every time she flashes those damn eyes at you, she’s made you look at life differently, whether you liked it or not. She didn’t even have to chip away at your walls at all—you tore them down yourself and built a grand entrance into your soul just for her. Because you wanted to. Because you like the way she smiles like nothing bad could ever happen, you like how she manages to find the good in everything and everyone, and you like that she still wants to talk to you despite your brick wall of a personality.

To see her like this, breaking down in your arms, on her birthday of all days, is nothing short of soul crushing.

“Thank you for that,” Eunha murmurs, her voice tiny and fragile. “Um, can we go?”

“Sure,” you reply in a calming tone. “Where to?”

“Anywhere but here.”

The two of you wander the streets in silence, nothing but the muffled hum of faraway chatter and the occasional car passing by to keep you company. She stays deathly quiet, a state you’ve never seen her in. With everything that just happened, you don’t blame her, but you can’t help but feel chills at her solemn expression. It’s like the sun’s gone dark, leaving the whole world in a forever winter.

You pass by a 7/11, not thinking much of it, but Eunha stops underneath its glowing sign. “...You wanna drink?” she asks, giving you a small yet hopeful smile.

Alcohol is probably the last thing either of you need at the moment, yet you find yourself nodding anyway. It’s hard saying no to that face.

______________________________________________________________

Time ticks by at a pace more glacial than the frigid winds buffeting you as Eunha chugs down her second can of cheap beer, crumpling it in her hands as if to release all her pent up emotions inside. On a normal day, you would’ve found it a little funny, maybe even cute, to think that the living embodiment of a summer day has inner turmoil that she can only externalize through the crushing of an aluminum can. But on tonight of all nights, the shrill crunch becomes a harsh reminder that life’s cruelty shows no mercy.

“Are you okay?” you utter, unable to move your gaze from the ground. Of course it’s a stupid question—who would be okay after almost getting assaulted?—but, it’s a start, if anything.

“Um… I don’t know.” Her despondent voice is punctuated by the metallic crash of aluminum against concrete. “Do you want the short version or the long version?”

“I have time.”

Eunha inhales deeply, letting the chilling winds of the night fill her lungs, before breathing it back out into the elements. “No. I’m not okay, and I haven’t been for a long time. I know, it sounds a bit dramatic, but it’s just…” she sighs, “It’s just how I feel.”

“I don’t think you’re being dramatic at all,” you reassure her, earning an appreciative grin in response.

“Um… God, I really don’t know where to start with this,” she says, her face falling into her hands. “School has been kicking my ass lately, which isn’t that big of an issue in the shitstorm that is my life, but it’s there. Last week, one of my professors chewed me out for accidentally submitting the wrong file for an assignment, so I spent the entire day just crying in bed.” A small laugh leaves her nose at the fact, void of any humor.

“And then my friends. They’re great and I love them with all my heart, but they can be such a handful.” With each word, she sinks deeper and deeper into herself as the burden she’s been silently carrying threatens to end her. “Sowon—the tall one that paid for the table—she has a reputation for sleeping around campus, which is fine, I’m not gonna tell her what she can and can’t do with her own body. But her life is filled with so much drama, and I end up having to play therapist for her, and it just gets so exhausting.”

You nod in understanding, keeping silent as she spills out her grievances. It’s not a pleasant sight, but pain rarely is. This image that she’s built up for herself as this happy-go-lucky fairy of a person, the image that you’ve consumed without question because doing otherwise would be like the sky falling around you, tears itself down to reveal the ugly truth underneath: That she’s human. And all humans suffer, even the ones that you wish didn’t.

“You remember the night I came into work with my hair dyed?” she asks after a long pause, her gaze fixated on the crumpled can below. “I broke up with my boyfriend that morning. I just… couldn’t handle all the hurt and neglect anymore, so I left.”

The revelation comes as a shock to you, even if all the signs were there in hindsight. “I’m sorry to hear that,” you offer, nervously fidgeting with the tiny box in your pocket.

“Y’know, he always hated when I dyed my hair. Said I looked like a slut whenever I did it.” The word sounds so crass against her gentle voice, like a grisly wound on unblemished skin. You feel an unfamiliar anger boiling inside of you at the notion that someone would even think to hurt her.

“And with how things turned out tonight, maybe he was right—”

“Hey,” you lightly interject. “I don’t think you look like… that at all.”

Her dejection cracks a little, giving way to a small smile accompanied by the faint hum of a chuckle. “Thanks. Maybe if that other guy thought the same as you, I wouldn’t feel like this.”

With a deep breath, you retrieve the small box from your pocket and hand it to her. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Eunha takes the box from your hand, her brow raised in curiosity.

“Your birthday present. It’s not much, but… yeah. It’s not much.”

Tentatively, she opens it up, revealing a necklace with a rabbit pendant hanging from it. Her face lights up, and for a moment, you forget that she was ever sad in the first place. A newfound sense of determination wells within you, and something that you’ve kept hidden deep inside finally comes to light: you would do anything to protect that smile.

“This is so cute, I love it!” she remarks, fiddling with the chain as she tries and fails to put it on. “Uh, a little help?”

“Sure.” You take the necklace from her, and as she pulls up her hair to reveal the delicate skin of her neck, your hands begin to tremor nervously, making it nearly impossible to secure the necklace.

“Is everything alright back there?” she teases. “I can feel you shaking.”

“Y-yeah, no, it’s fine.” The stutter in your voice dashes any attempts at trying to sound natural. It’s a simple act, putting a necklace around your friend, but something about it feels so intimate, like the first hint of warmth after a long and arduous storm. Once you finally secure the clasp in place, a breath you didn’t know you were holding empties from your lungs.

“Thanks,” she says, admiring the rabbit pendant. “Thanks for everything, really.”

“I didn’t do much.”

“But you did something,” she reasons, her voice lilting with an air of melancholy, “You did a lot more than anyone else ever did for me.”

Eunha’s eyes wander upwards to the stars, the same ones you’ve spent nearly every night under, listening to her talk about everything and nothing all at once. Tiny blips of light a billion miles away, the only witnesses to your midnight conversations about the mundanities of life. To them, your little exchange of words seems small and meaningless, but to you, these talks with her mean everything.

“I’ll make sure to pay you back one day,” Eunha utters.

There’s no need. Your existence is more than enough.

______________________________________________________________

In a past life, you used to curse how consistently time seems to move without regard for anything else. After one of the worst nights of your life, how dare the sun have the audacity to rise up in the morning like your whole world hasn’t just collapsed? The lights peaking through your blinds felt like a big “fuck you” from the world. Everyone struggles, get over yourself, you lazy prick. Before you realized it, the negativity took up every corner of your mind, constant noise rattling around your head every second of your existence, bleeding into the nights that seemed endless as you could do nothing but stare at the ceiling.

But nowadays, those thoughts seem so long ago, like a vague memory. Maybe it hasn’t gotten easier to sleep, but it’s quieter now. Peaceful, even. It barely even occurred to you how much time has passed since then until a certain coworker of yours decides to remind you.

“Happy birthday!” Eunha pops up from behind the counter, donning a dingy party hat and holding a cupcake with a single lit candle embedded in it.

“H-huh? W-what—”

“Make a wish!” She pushes the cupcake in your face, a potential fire hazard if your hair was just an inch longer. Confused by the sudden onslaught, all you can do is stand there like an idiot, eyes tracing over the silly hat adorning her rosy head. It’s cute though.

“It’s your birthday, right?” Eunha pouts, reading your confused expression. “Or did the calendar lie to me?”

You pause for a moment, running the numbers in your head as you try to remember how much time has passed. “Right,” you utter, not quite meeting her eyes. “Yeah, it’s my birthday.” Without another word, you grab a broom and begin sweeping as a couple approaches the store, hoping their impending presence will get your mind off the topic. With how life has been going these past few years, it’s getting harder and harder to find a reason to celebrate.

Was. 

The gentle chime of the entrance rings throughout the store, yet Eunha’s cheerful greeting that usually follows is hauntingly absent, you nearly greet the customers yourself just to fill the unusual silence. Before you can check to see if she’s alright, you’re interrupted by a male voice.

“Hey, you know where the beers are?” the guy asks. You silently gesture towards the fridges, taking the opportunity to eye the couple. The girl seems generally unremarkable, not unlike the usual customer at this hour, but something about the guy feels oddly familiar, despite his face not matching anyone in your recent memory. Something about the way he drapes his arm carelessly over the girl like she’s an accessory rather than a person, or the way he doesn’t even bother to look through the tiny store for more than two seconds before asking for the answer just pisses you off. 

“Thanks, pal,” he says, clapping your shoulder in a way that feels anything but friendly as he passes by. Out of all the expletives, middle fingers, and death threats that have been thrown your way by people far worse than this guy, none of them have managed to strike such an anger-inducing chord with you as that simple pat on your shoulder. But why?

You look over at the counter to check on Eunha, only to find a lone cupcake and a party hat peeking out from behind it. “Are you alright?” you ask, brows furrowed as you peer over the counter at her. All you receive in response is a panicked look and a harsh “Shhh!”.

“Hey pal, can you ring me— Eunha?” The two of them lock eyes in some weird staring contest, while you and his girlfriend or whoever she is are left completely out of the loop. You glance back and forth between them, trying to gain some semblance of understanding in their eyes for what feels like an eternity, until it finally clicks in your head.

The hint of familiarity despite never meeting him and the abundance of bad vibes he exudes all make sense — he’s Eunha’s ex-boyfriend.

You hastily scan his pack of beers and his box of condoms. “$20.55.”

“Why don’t you go wait outside for me, babe?” you hear him whisper to his new girl, unashamedly staring at her backside as she saunters out of the store. Eunha sighs, standing up from her hiding spot and leaving the party hat to dangle sadly in between her fingertips.

“So,” he continues, not even sparing you a single glance, “You’re still working in this shit hole?”

“Yup,” she replies, gaze glued to the floor. “Gotta pay rent somehow.”

He scoffs. “If you just come back to me—”

“I’m sorry, what the fuck?” You freeze at her sudden outburst, not used to this side of her. “Are you seriously asking me to come crawling back to you after everything you fucking did!?”

“Look, babe—”

“Don’t fucking ‘babe’ me, you asshole!” Her breath starts to get heavier as tears well up in her eyes and her fingers turn white around the dainty string of the party hat. “And don’t you have a new girlfriend anyway!? What the hell is wrong with you!?”

“What, you mean her?” His head flings back in a guttural laugh at the insinuation that he would find himself in a committed relationship with his “new girl”. Hell, if things weren’t so tense, you would be laughing at that idea too. “She’s just who I’m banging for tonight since you fucking left!”

“For fuck’s sake,” she groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just pay for your shit and leave. Please.”

He scoffs. “Quit being a fucking bitch and—”

“If you leave now, I’ll let you have everything for free,” you interject, each breath heavy and quivering with anger. For the first time since this whole altercation, he acknowledges your presence and simply scoffs, eyeing the two of you back and forth. With a smirk, he grabs his things off the counter and backs away, chuckling to himself like there’s some kind of inside joke that neither you nor Eunha are a part of. As the door chime rings to signal his exit, you hear the huff of a harsh syllable underneath his breath that turns the next few moments into a vague blur.

“Slut.”

You’ve never considered yourself to be particularly athletic—average at best, but still decent enough to not be picked last during childhood games. Yet, as you grab the cupcake from the counter and haphazardly chuck it through the air, you swear that Shohei Ohtani himself would’ve been impressed at the accuracy of your pitch as it arcs perfectly and splatters against the back of that asshole’s head. You freeze in disbelief of your own actions, barely registering the pink frosting-covered look of rage stomping towards you.

Eunha pulls you out of the doorway and quickly locks the door before pulling you into the break room, away from the view of the windows. Banging glass and muffled expletives are soon replaced by the monotonous whir of the fluorescents as she shuts the door behind her.

“Oh my god, are you insane?!” Eunha exclaims, trying and failing to suppress a grin.

“I-I, uh… I don’t know. Probably.” A breathy chuckle escapes your lips. And then another one. Soon, you’re keeling over the floor in laughter, replaying the impact of the cupcake over and over in your head.

A second chorus of laughter mixes with yours in a symphony of hysterics as Eunha joins you on the floor. Your head starts to ache and your stomach grows sore, but the first bout of genuine joy you feel after years of nothing but cold isolation overpowers any kind of pain. 

Being here, in this moment with her, is the best birthday gift you’ve ever received.

______________________________________________________________

Even after the clock passes midnight and your birthday officially ends, Eunha still insists on doing something to celebrate. That sweet piece of payback against her ex was more than enough for you, but as always, it’s hard to say no when her eyes light up with so much excitement.

You wait in the solitude of your living room, with nothing but Yokai to pass the time. He purrs contently on your lap, being oddly well-behaved for once. Maybe he knows Eunha is coming and is in a better mood than usual. Are black cats telepathic?

As if on cue, he jumps off your lap and scurries towards the front door, a millisecond before a barrage of knocks and a muffled “Ayo!” sound off from the other side. It doesn’t take a genius to know who the owner of that voice is.

“Surprise!” Eunha exclaims, balancing a store-bought cake and a champagne bottle in her arms. 

“I’m not sure if it counts as a surprise if I know that you’re coming,” you joke, taking the contents from her arms.

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say, birthday boy.” Yokai impatiently nuzzles his head against Eunha’s leg, practically begging for her attention. “Well, hello again, cutie! Did you miss me?”

He purrs in response to getting showered by Eunha’s affection. You place the cake on the dining table and peer curiously at the champagne bottle, only to find the words “Sparkling Apple Cider” written in fancy gold lettering.

“Apple Cider?” you question.

“Yeah,” Eunha responds. “Did you want actual champagne or…?”

“No no, this is great.” You flash her a reassuring grin, which she returns in kind, punctuated by the cute swell of her cheeks.

“Phew, I’m glad. I thought I read you wrong for a second.” She plops comfortably onto your couch like she’s been to your apartment a thousand times before, Yokai swiftly taking his place onto her lap. “So, what do you usually do for your birthday?”

“Nothing, really,” you sheepishly admit. “If it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have remembered it was today.”

“Whaaat? That’s no fun.”

“Yeah, well…”

You trail off as the ghosts of your past come back to haunt you. Each year, the faces around the table seemed to become fewer and fewer until it was just you and the cat. Eventually, you just stopped bothering with it. It’s just another day, indiscernible from every other one. Sure, you could go on about why no one bothered to contact you, but It’s not like you’re completely blameless—why didn’t you reach out? Every night spent with your eyes forcibly pried open, you basically had all the time in the world to one, single message to anyone. And yet, you didn’t.

It’s your fault alone that things ended up this way.

You feel a soft pair of hands suddenly wrap around yours, forcibly pulling you out of the black hole in your mind that threatened to envelop you.

“Why don’t we make this one extra special then?” Without waiting for you to answer, Eunha pulls you towards the kitchen and pushes you down into a chair.

“What are you doing?” you ask, confused yet charmed by her usual antics.

“Just wait a sec,” she says, rummaging through your cupboards like a mouse looking for cheese. You watch in amused silence as she searches through every nook and cranny for… whatever it is that she needs. You can’t quite wrap your head around why she’s going through all of this effort, in the dead of night, for you of all people. You’re just her coworker in a dingy little convenience store.

Although, it’s hard not to feel insanely lucky when she turns to you with that impossibly bright smile that only you get the luxury of seeing.

“Okay, here we go!” Eunha exclaims, taking the plastic lid off of the cake and fiddling with a single match.

You tilt your head curiously. “Is that a—”

“I forgot to get candles and this is all that you have, alright?” she playfully snaps at you. Finally, once the match is lit, she places it gingerly in the center of the cake. “Make a wish, birthday boy!”

As you gaze into the small, singular flame before you, it dawns on you that you have no idea what to wish for. Money? A bigger house? The ability to have a good night’s sleep? Blowing out a silly little candle isn’t going to magically change your life overnight, no matter what the occasion is.

But as you look past the flame, you see Eunha gleaming back at you, waiting with bated breath for you to make that wish. The passion, the excitement, the hope swirling around in just her eyes alone sends a wave of warmth throughout your body that seeps deep into the fibers of your bones. A wish finally forms inside of your head.

You blow out the match, extinguishing the flame and letting your wish float into the air along with the smoke.

“Woohoo!” Eunha cheers. “What did you wish for?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you suddenly feel sheepish under her gaze. “I-I, uh—”

“Wait, don’t tell me!” she frantically interjects. “I forgot, if you say your wish out loud, it won’t come true!”

A chuckle brushes past your lips. If there’s even a tiny chance that what she said is true, then you’ll gladly take a vow of silence just to keep your wish close to your heart.

Eunha cuts two generous slices of cakes for the both of you while you pour the sparkling cider into mismatched mugs - the only drinkware you have that even comes remotely close to fitting the occasion. Your apartment becomes enveloped in a comfortable silence, save for Yokai’s content purring on the couch and an occasional “Mmm” from Eunha in-between mouthfuls.

As you peer to the side, you notice a small glob of frosting on the corner of her lips. “You have a little something here,” you chuckle, gesturing to the area. She tries to wipe it off, but somehow completely misses the mark.

“No, it’s still there,” you say, unable to hold back a smirk at her failed attempt. Without thinking, you reach out and gently wipe the frosting from the corner of her mouth with your thumb. The soft warmth of her cheek sends a jolt through your body, and only then do you realize just how close you are. Her eyes widen slightly in surprise, but she doesn’t pull away. For a moment, time seems to stand still as you gaze into the deep obsidian of her irises, your thumb still lingering on her lips.

Eunha’s cheeks flush a rosy pink that mimics her hair, and you quickly retract your hand, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Um, got it,” you mutter, avoiding her gaze.

“Thanks,” she says softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

The air between you feels charged, as if closing the distance even a little bit would shock you. You steal a glance at her and find her doing the same, quickly turning away after a mere whisper of eye contact. For that split second, you notice her eyes shimmering with an emotion that you can’t quite place. The silence stretches on, growing heavier with unspoken words.

Eunha breaks the tension first with a soft chuckle. “So, uh, how was your birthday? Sorry I couldn’t do much more than this.”

“N-no, it’s fine. I thought it was great, actually,” you admit, a small grin tugging at your lips.

“Yeah?” she says, beaming at you. “I’m glad.”

“Me too.”

She stands up and begins to gather her things. “I should probably head home now. It’s getting—well, I guess it’s already late.”

A pang of disappointment hits your chest. “Right.”

Each step feels like you’re wearing cinder blocks as you walk her to the front door. Yokai perks up from his spot at the couch, mimicking your own feelings of panic as Eunha nears the exit. Why are you acting like this? You’ll see her at work tomorrow. Despite your attempts at rationalizing, the growing urge to stop her is becoming harder and harder to ignore.

As she takes a step outside of your apartment, she turns to you. For a moment, she simply gazes into your eyes. You can’t quite read them—it’s hard when you’re too distracted by how unbelievably pretty they are—but it feels like she’s waiting. Waiting for you to say something, maybe? With the thumping of your heart growing louder in your ears, the ability to focus suddenly becomes an uphill battle.

“I, uh, I had fun tonight.”

You take a breath. “Y-yeah, me too.”

“I guess I’ll see you at work then?” Her voice lilts up, as if she’s asking a question. A loaded question, even. An answer sits on the tip of your tongue, desperately waiting to be heard by her ears. Just a couple words, and yet it feels like overlooking a cliff with no end in sight. A free fall into new, terrifying territory.

But, as you’ve learned time and time again, it’s hard saying no to that face.

“A-actually,” you begin, your voice almost getting caught in your throat, “it’s late and it might be unsafe tonight, so… I was wondering… do you want to stay the night?”

If you had more than just pure adrenaline pushing you forward, you could’ve probably used a better choice of words. Something smoother and less uncertain. Something more charming, as Eunha would put it. But all of these thoughts sink to the back of your mind when you’re suddenly attacked by the softest lips you’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Like muscle memory, your hands wrap around Eunha’s delicate waist, gently pushing her into the door until it shuts with an audible click. 

All the second guessing, the worrying, the negativity, everything is completely thrown out the window as you sink into her lips. You let yourself get lost in her touch, pulling her close to you like she’s your matching puzzle piece. In the midst of needy touching and sharp breaths, a wave of calmness washes over you. Like all of this is meant to be.

“W-wait…” Eunha gently pushes you off of her, worry filling her expression.

“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Do you not want thi—”

“I do want this. I want you, more than you could ever imagine, but I just…” she sighs, her grip on your shoulders weakening slightly. “I really like working at the store and talking to you every night and feeling like my life isn’t a constant trainwreck. I need that consistency in my life. If we do this, no matter what happens tonight, I need you to promise me that nothing will change between us.”

She looks up at you with desperate, pleading eyes. You know, probably more than anyone, just how much pain she holds inside, invisible to the outside world. The two of you are alike in that way. The only difference is that she kept on trying to live despite her scars, while you stopped trying because of them.

“I’m not a perfect person by any means,” you start softly, gently caressing her cheek. “Before I met you, I felt like I was barely even human. I was just a body without a soul, wandering aimlessly. But then, I met you and everything changed.”

Eunha sinks her face into your hand, peering at you with those damn eyes. You’ve seen them light up like fireworks during her highest highs and pour like a perilous storm during her lowest lows, but you’ve never once seen them completely empty, void of any emotion. For once, you feel hope that things can get better, and she is the living, breathing reason why.

“Whenever I’m with you, nights don’t feel as cold and the stars seem to shine brighter than I thought was possible,” you continue. “Breathing becomes easier and I laugh harder than I ever have before. Life doesn’t just become bearable—it becomes enjoyable. And that’s all because of you.”

As your words linger in the gap between lips, you feel the haze that clouded your mind for so long finally lift, making way for light to shine through. A pure, warming light with pink hair and porcelain skin and cheeks like puffed up marshmallows.

“I take back everything I said before,” Eunha says with a smirk. “That was the most charming thing I’ve ever heard.”

Before you even have time to roll your eyes, she’s kissing you again with a newfound passion. You’re quick to follow her lead, running your hands over the curves she’s been hiding underneath her work uniform and taking mental notes of the spots that produce a cute moan. Each sensation feels like a spark of lightning being shot through your veins, driving your every movement. You want—no, need to please this woman, show her exactly just how much she means to you.

With all the adrenaline in your system, you end up pinning Eunha against the front door with an audible thud. “Someone’s eager to get things going,” she teases, short-breathed and rosy-cheeked.

“How can I not be when you’re so—”

“MRRAAOOOUWWWW!!!” Yokai cries out, his yellow eyes full of judgement as he looks at your crude display of affection from the couch. Attention whore.

Eunha chuckles. “Maybe we should—”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” 

You take her hand and practically drag her to the privacy of your bedroom, her excited giggles trailing behind you. As soon as the door shuts behind you, Eunha is already laying on your bed, resting comfortably as if it were her own.

“Got room for one more?” you quip.

“If it’s you, definitely.”

With an easy smile, you make your way towards her, fingers grazing up her thighs to her toned stomach and around the sensuous curve of her bosom before resting right next to her head. The moonlight peaking through the window illuminates her eyes, allowing you to see the passion and the neediness aimed directly at you.

“You’re so beautif—mmf!“

Eunha suddenly claps her hand over your mouth. “Listen, you’re very cute, but I desperately need you to take my clothes off. Now please.”

You waste no more time, diving into the crook of her neck and producing a yelp from her throat as you pepper it with kisses. Excitedly, your hands slip under her shirt to massage her full breasts. You’d be lying if you said you never imagined it would be like to cup her breasts, but actually getting to feel them in your hand is a different sensation entirely. So soft yet so firm, and perfectly bouncy. By the noises she’s making, it’s safe to assume that she’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

Eunha reaches down and strokes the outline of your cock through your jeans, her movements fueled by a primal lust. “Oh my god, I can already tell you’re so much bigger than my ex. Please, I need you inside me right fucking now,” she begs, already fidgeting with your belt.

You chuckle, not used to her lovely voice spewing out such heinous demands. Whatever the princess wants, she’ll get.

Loose clothing begins to decorate your room while a symphony of pleasurable cries and wrinkling fabric accompanies the scene. Moonlight casts shadows on your walls, depicting the beautiful act of debauchery taking place. This room, which only harbors memories of dreadfully sleepless nights, becomes a haven for you and Eunha to begin something new and wonderful.

“Can’t believe I almost let Yuju have all of this for herself,” she giggles, eyeing your length as it nears her dripping sweetness. 

You lean down to briefly take her lips in yours, running your hands over her now unclothed body, bare in all its glory. “I don’t wanna think about any woman other than you right now,” you say in a low, growly tone.

“Mmm, good answer.” Eunha abruptly wraps her legs around your waist. “Now fuck me, birthday boy.”

Your cock drags against her folds, lubricating it with her juices. You feel her shiver underneath you as you lightly graze against her clit. She’s so beautiful. Completely exposed and vulnerable, all for you. With a single movement of your hips, you enter her honeypot, the two of you sharing a moan as the tip slides in. 

“Shit,” you groan, drawing in a heavy breath, “We forgot a condom—”

“We work at a convenience store, we can just get a Plan B tomorrow!!” Eunha snaps before donning an apologetic look. “Sorry, I just mean—”

You interrupt her with a peck on the lips, smirking at her. “I know what you meant. I’ll shut up now.”

Pure instinct takes over as you begin to buck your hips into her, years of pent up energy and the desire to make her feel loved fueling each thrust. The crescendo of her voice every time your bodies meet is a tune like no other, and you do everything in your power just to hear that noise again and again and again and again. Sink your fingers into the meaty flesh of her thighs, lap at her perky tits, pin her arms over her head so her only choice is to succumb to the overwhelming sensation of lust.

“Perfect” doesn’t even begin to properly describe Eunha. From her bubblegum optimism that managed to melt your cold heart to the velvety tightness of her pussy as she takes you in so fucking well, there aren’t enough words in existence to explain just how much she means to you. So instead, you do your best to deliver the message through every movement. The fire in your pelvis as you fuck her heat, the soreness of your tongue as you worship every inch of her body, everything you do is testament into making sure she knows just how much you mean to her.

Love her in a way that her ex could never do.

Love her until all the pain and suffering she went through is forgotten.

Love her the way you’ve been unknowingly aching for her since the moment you laid eyes on her. Repay her for all that she’s done just by existing.

“K-keep going! Just like that!” she groans, the grip of her pussy tightening with each second. You do as she says, fucking her at the pace that she likes and hitting every spot that produces that oh-so-pretty noise from her lips. With how amazing she feels, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the building feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Eunha…”

She grabs your face, forcing you to look at hers. “Inside me, baby. Please. I need to feel you. I want to feel you.” She peers at you with those eyes, glimmering with the light of a full moon, and pleads for you to stay inside her. How silly. Why would you beg when I would give you the whole world at the drop of a hat?

In one final thrust, you climax in her arms, wave after wave of pleasure rushing through you. Eunha shoves her face into the crook of your neck, a guttural moan escaping her lips as she experiences her own orgasm. Months of working alongside her and getting to know her, culminating into a beautiful moment of release for the both of you—and this is only the beginning.

“H-holy… shit…” Eunha pants, tracing lazy circles on your shoulder. “That was… better than I could have ever imagined.”

“Are you saying you’ve imagined this before?” you tease.

“What, you think I’m gonna work with someone that’s as sweet and as awkwardly-cute as you and not occasionally think about fucking him?” she retorts with a smirk. 

The both of you share a laugh in each other’s arms, bathed in the moonlight and sweat of passion. Before long, the exhaustion of today’s events gets to the both of you, and you feel your eyes grow heavier and heavier—a sensation you haven’t felt in a long time. A final kiss marks the beginning of many more nights to come. Nights where the shadows are still and the morning become a moment to look forward to.

[sosasturns]

doordashin (extended) - c. sturniolo

an epilogue to doordashin: sosa’s one month anni special !!!

it had been a few days since your unexpected “tip” situation with your ex-doordasher, chris, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t replaying in your head. the guy had left an impression—one that lingered a little longer than you cared to admit. maybe it was the way he handled you like he’d done it a thousand times before, or maybe it was the smug grin he threw over his shoulder as he walked out your door. either way, he was stuck in your brain rent-free.

you weren’t expecting to hear from him again, so when a random text from an unknown number popped up while you were lounging on the couch, your heart skipped a beat.

unknown: u still hungry?

you stared at your phone, trying to process the text.

you: who’s this

you: ?

unknown: it’s chris. u still hungry or nah?

your lips twitched at the message, a mix of amusement and intrigue bubbling in your chest.

you: for food? or for something else?

unknown: idk u tell me.

you couldn’t help the grin spreading across your face.

you: depends. you deliverin’?

unknown: i might be. what’s the order?

you bit your lip, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. part of you wanted to keep it playful, but another part—the one that still remembered the way his hands felt on your body—wanted to see just how far this could go.

you: surprise me.

two hours later, your phone buzzed again.

chris: outside.

you put your phone down and headed for the door, your stomach doing a little flip as you opened it. there he was, leaning casually against the frame, a brown cvs paper bag in one hand and that same cocky grin on his face.

“miss me?” he asked, his voice smooth as ever.

“not even a little,” you teased, stepping aside to let him in.

“damn,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “thought i left more of an impression than that.”

“you left somethin’,” you admitted, crossing your arms. “but i’m not sure it was an impression.”

he chuckled, setting the bag on your counter. “got jokes, huh? we’ll see how funny you are in a minute.”

“what’s in the bag?” you asked, nodding toward it.

“a little bit of everything,” he said with a shrug. “figured you might be hungry for real this time.”

you smirked, leaning against the counter. “that’s cute.”

“i’m a thoughtful guy,” he said, stepping closer.

the space between you disappeared in an instant, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you flush against him. his blue eyes locked onto yours, a playful glint in them.

“so,” he murmured, his voice dropping, “you tryna tip me again, or what?”

you rolled your eyes, though the heat pooling in your stomach betrayed your disinterest. “you’re ridiculous.”

“and you’re stallin’,” he shot back, his grip tightening.

“fine,” you said, pushing at his chest playfully. “but if you’re gonna keep comin’ around, i’m gonna need you to up your delivery game.”

“oh yeah?” he asked, his lips brushing against your ear. “what’s miss picky got in mind?”

"guess you'll find out," you whispered, fingers curling into his shirt as you leaned in, your lips brushing over his.

the grin on his face widened, smug as ever, but before he could say anything cocky, you reached up and tugged his fitted cap off, tossing it onto the couch. his shaggy hair stuck out in every direction, messy and perfectly him. his eyes darkened, the playful glint now mixed with something deeper as he slid his hands down the curve of your waist.

"you playin' games wit’ me, girl?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

"nah," you said, your fingers sliding into his hair, giving it a soft tug. "just wonderin' if you can back up your shit talk."

his lips twitched, but he didn't waste time with words. instead, his hands shifted to the backs of your thighs, gripping firmly as he lifted you effortlessly. a surprised gasp left your lips, but it melted into a laugh as he smirked up at you.

"we'll see who's talkin' shit in a minute," he muttered as he started walking. the direction he was going wasn't clear-at least not to him.

"where's your bedroom?" he asked, his tone casual, as if he wasn't currently carrying you like you weighed nothing.

you couldn't help but laugh, your arms wrapping tighter around his neck. "down the hall, second door on the right."

"got you," he said, adjusting his grip as he made his way down the hall.

when he reached your room, he nudged the door open with his foot, stepping inside before letting you down onto the edge of the bed. his hands lingered on your hips as you looked up at him, your heart racing in anticipation. his hair was messier now, the faint glow from your bedside lamp casting shadows across his sharp features.

"you good?" he asked, his voice soft but edged with mischief.

you nodded, your breath hitching as his hands slipped under the hem of your shirt, brushing over your bare skin.

"good," he murmured just before he got right into it.

it was fast. dirty. intense.

there was no slow build or soft touches. his hands gripped your thighs, pulling your legs over his shoulders as he worked you open with his mouth. his tongue was skilled-almost too skilled-drawing whimpers and moans from you like it was second nature.

"can't stay still, huh?" he teased, his fingers digging into your skin to keep you pinned. "relax, baby. let me take care of you."

you couldn't relax, not with the way he devoured you like it was his last meal. your head fell back against the mattress, a gasp escaping as his teeth grazed your inner thigh.

"chris," you choked out, your hips bucking against his face.

his grip tightened, one hand sliding up to press against your stomach, holding you in place. "mm-mm," he muttered, his voice muffled but firm. "stay still."

he didn't give you a chance to recover. before you could catch your breath, he was flipping you over, pulling your hips up so your knees dug into the mattress. his hand wrapped around your ankle, yanking you back against him.

"arch that back for me," he ordered, his tone low and commanding.

you obeyed, your body moving on instinct as his hand slid up your spine, pressing down to deepen your curve. the cool air hit your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off him.

"good girl," he muttered, his fingers digging into your hips as he aligned himself with your opening.

the first thrust had your jaw dropping, a broken moan spilling out as he filled your pussy completely. there was no easing into it—he set a brutal pace, each snap of his hips driving you further into the mattress.

"look at you," he grunted, his hand coming down on your ass with a sharp slap, watching your pussy practically swallow him whole. "takin' this dick s’good."

his hands were everywhere.

one moment, his fingers were gripping your hips so tightly you were sure there'd be bruises. the next, they were wrapping around your throat, pulling you upright until your back was flush against his chest.

"keep that ass movin’," he murmured in your ear, his hand squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch.

your thighs trembled as you did your best to keep up, your body grinding back against him. the way he was handling you-manhandling you-had your head spinning. every touch, every word, every rough thrust sent shivers down your spine.

he wasn't just fucking you; he was fucking you. his hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "thought you said you could handle this shit," he teased, his voice dripping with cocky amusement.

"shut up," you managed to stammer, though your voice was barely a whisper.

he breathed out a breath of amusement sexily, his grip tightening as he pushed you closer to the edge. "nah, you like this shit," he said, his tone low and rough. "you love it."

you couldn't deny it—not with the way your body was reacting to him. every nerve was on fire, every thrust sending shockwaves through you.

"just like that," you gasped, your fingers clawing at the sheets as your body trembled.

he didn't stop. if anything, he went harder, his hand sliding down to grip your thigh, lifting your leg slightly to hit a new angle. the change had you crying out, your body convulsing as the pleasure became almost too much to handle.

you came hard, your body collapsing against the mattress as waves of ecstasy washed over you. ‘n he still didn't stop. his pace slowed slightly, but his movements were still deliberate, dragging out every last bit of your pleasure.

"c’mon, shawty," he murmured, his voice rough. "one more for me."

your body was already trembling, but the way he moved, the way he touched you—it was impossible to say no.

"chris-" you started, but your words were cut off by a sharp moan as he brought you right back to that same point.

"that's it," he said, his hand sliding down to grip your jaw, tilting your head back slightly. "come on this dick… come on, mamas."

you didn't know how long it lasted. by the time he finally pulled out, your body was spent, your limbs tired as you lay on the bed, trying to catch your breath.

"damn," he said, his voice filled with smug satisfaction. "y’lil’ ass is somethin' else."

you managed to glare at him, though the effect was ruined by the way your chest was still heaving. "fuck you."

he laughed, reaching for his clothes. "you already did, baby."

@ sosasturns

“sosa mafia” taglist: @submattenthusiast @sophand4n4 @secretlocket @mrsdillonx @ch6rm @sweetrelieef @gabri3la-sturns @allmylovc @sturn777 @et6rnalsun @faiyaz555 @whore4mattsturniolo

[zqxouii]

not again!

bachira meguru x fem!/afab!reader | genre : smut, mdni 18+ warnings : cursing, first time, unprotected sex, m!/f! reciving + giving, pet names, praising | wc : 1.8k

a tough game against a cute rival can be a big pain in the ass. even the tiniest little mistake has the power to turn the game of 1v1 all way around.

especially when you can't even focus on the game cuz he's the one you're up against, it isn't easy to try controlling the way you blush when he's all fired up and dribbling over the park ground, his eyes locked on yours.

you're his neighbor, one of the only few friends he's ever had, you've both grown up together, years passing by with your feelings getting deeper for him.

but all this still doesn't affect your play somehow.

"let's see.." bachira pants as he's running all around nonstop doing new fancy tricks trying to dribble past you. "so.. tell me y/n, what do I get when I make this one?"

"eh- how 'bout 2 packs of pineapple candy?" you clench your teeth, stealing the ball effortlessly from him, sprinting towards his goalpost. "this is the last goal for today so you might not get them, though!" you let out a chuckle.

competing with him for years has made his playstyle very known to you, so its kinda easy for you to predict his moves.

at last, you win today, again, very much to bachira's annoyance. "not again.. don't gimme that shit again" he frowns, which he doesn't do often.

you giggle a bit, thinking he must be a little frustrated on the fact that you've been constantly winning from him the past few weeks, not noticing what he's about to do next, "meguru..? will you listen to m—"

the next moment, you find yourself in his grasp, holding you up with his arms, folding your legs around him, as he hungrily leaving hickeys all around your collarbone.

it all seems surreal, you've been waiting for this moment from god knows how long but you are quick to react.

"what the fuck are you doing bachira—?! we're in pu—public put me d—down right now!"

his wet kisses making you crazier every second, it looks like he's not even afraid of that, or anything at all that moment.

he's fucking into it.

the tension is electric between you two when the first drop of rain hits your face, catching you off guard. the storm seems to appear out of nowhere, the sky darkening quickly as thunder rumbles in the distance. the drops start slow, then quickly build, transforming into a downpour that soaks you both within seconds.

the air is suddenly colder, and the sounds of rain crashing against the pavement and your breath mixing with the pounding beat of your heart echo around you. the coolness of the rain against your skin contrasts sharply with the heat of bachira's body, pressed so close to you.

you shiver gets down you spine, but it’s not just from the rain. he looks up, his face just as drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead. he smirks at you, wild-eyed, as if the storm only fuels his energy.

you can't help but stare.

"guess we're stuck out here now" he teases, his fingers brushing against your wet skin, sending a jolt through you. "unless you want to keep this up in the rain."

you're not sure if he's being serious, but before you can respond, his arms wrap around you again, lifting you effortlessly. you squeak, not fully prepared for him to carry you.

though you can't remember how did he actually bring you home so quick, he puts on the wooden floor, back on your legs pushing you against the glass door just as you get in.

the rain falls harder now, the drops almost seeming to create a blur around you. the storm has a power all its own, but it's nothing compared to the tension in the air between you two.

he’s soaked, the thin fabric of his school club jersey clinging to his toned, wet body, the definition of his abs visible through the material.

you feel the strength in his grip, his muscles flexing as his arms pull you closer, making your breath catch in your throat.

"y/n.." his voice is a low, gravelly whisper, laced with something more. something raw. "I'm sorry for this.. but I need you" the words hang in the air, heavy with need.

before you could say anything, his lips are on yours—sudden, urgent.

the kiss is demanding, desperate, and it takes everything in you to not melt under the weight of it. his tongue slides against your lips, a silent request, and you part them just enough for him to deepen the kiss.

it’s all messy. it’s everything you’ve been trying to fight but now can’t resist.

his hands find your waist, gripping you tightly as he presses his body flush against yours. the rain continues to pour down around you both, but it’s nothing compared to the fire building between you two.

you respond instinctively, your own hands threading into his wet hair, pulling him closer. his tongue explores you with an intensity that makes your heart race, each kiss more desperate than the last.

the wetness of the rain, the heat of his mouth, everything blurs together, and you find yourself lost in him, in the sensation of him.

it's the feeling you always wanted to sense everyday.

bachira's kiss is wild, full of the hunger he's kept hidden for so long. you feel it in every flick of his tongue, every press of his body against yours.

you lose yourself in the kiss, forgetting everything around you, until all that’s left is the both of you, tangled together in the storm.

you both pull off after some seconds, lust filled in each others eyes. bachira lifts you again, slowly walking towards the couch, trying to control his trail of thoughts.

"should I ask her about it?" , "what if she doesn't feel comfortable?"

he places you on the couch, at one end and sits on the other end, trying hard to not to spill shit, not looking at you.

"wanna.. wanna do it?"

he looks up at you, dumfounded. were his thought read by you or you wanted him that bad like he needed you?

"huh..? I—" he's cut off, "you said you needed me before."

the next second, you were on your knees in front of him, eyeing his bulge curiously. you took a glance at him and slowly slipped his cock out, it had to be atleast 7 inches.

you paused for a bit, gulped and took a deep breath before grabbing him. this only added to nervousness bachira had in his mind, making him rest his head on the back of the couch.

just a couple of stokes in and he was as red as a tomato, a moaning mess. you wanted to give him all the pleasure he deserves in the world, he's all you've ever desired.

so you did the best you could to satisfy him, the slow and sensual handjob it seemed at first, the faster and rougher it was the next moment.

now, the situation wasn't in control, heavy pants & lewd moans filled the air. as your hand movement went faster, you could feel him twitch more and more each second, he was close, you were doing great.

SPLAT!

you licked bachira's cum off your face, giving the heavily breathing man a wink. he sat up straight, holding your jaw between his thumb and index finger, caressing your cheek.

"you- did a great job, darling" he murmurs as he closes the distance between this mouth and your ear.

"my turn now."

there he is, on his way to bring you to his bedroom as he wants you to be comfortable and be slow with the process, you're both are having your first times, after all.

his room is all decorated based on soccer—posters, figurines of famous players, messy clothes all around. you feel so cozy, so relaxed here and bachira's scent everywhere adds more love in to the air.

he follows your eyes, taking a long look of the room then gives you a pat on the head. "shall we continue, miss?"

a small nod and his gaze turns like that of a predator. he spreads you legs apart, devilish intentions on their peak, only he knows how he controls himself every fucking day not to masturbate to your photo.

he knows what he needs to do.

getting close to your clothed clit, he takes a quick sniff before giving some licks. he reaches for your panties, sliding them off your glassy soft skin, making you blush red making you hit your head back on his pillow in pleasure.

God, this man knows stuff.

he slowly traced all your curves with his tongue around your cunt to your tits, sucking on the right one while putting in a couple of his fingers in your sweet spot and exploring your core, taking you to heavens.

"I can't resist it now."

bachira doesn't take more than just a few seconds to strip his clothes off. "may I?" you didn't respond, ofcourse getting fingered from your long time crush was already a lot to process.

he understood the look on your face and slowly slid his dick in you, your inner walls taking him well, your wetness for him turning him even hornier.

quickly pulling half his cock out, bachira putting power to thurst deep inside you. he had this little goal in his mind to give you your best first time, to make you his, forever.

as a continuous series of rough thrusts went on, you tried your best to make it up to his efforts and return his favour, your lips locked on his throughout the process.

this was it. you were close, he was close. it was the time you both had been waiting so long for.

his dick now on your stomach, he let his cum out on your body with little droplets of his release on your face too while you let your tensions out on his silk bedsheet.

not taking too long afterwards, bachira was fast to clean you up. he rushed to the bathroom to get a small towel soaked in lukewarm water for you right after you were done.

he even got you dressed up in a new dress, that he had planned to gift to you for your birthday the next day.

his care, love and affection was all that you ever wanted. he also wanted you rest for a couple of hours, to cool yourself down with some snacks and coke, staying curled up to you in his bed.

how adorable. how precious he is.

© zqxouii — the storyline belongs to me and I do not consent anyone to translate, repost or rephrase my writing on any other platform so I expect you to respect my boundaries.

[skippingstonez]

Sickly Snuggles

(Legend x Fem!Reader)

It had been a quiet morning.

After two days of sporadic rain everyone was inclined to get to the stable as soon as possible.

The storm had left a muddy path that clung to their boots and forced them into a slower pace. Mixed with the dropping temperature that left a merely uncomfortable chill in the air. They wouldnt of been surprised if ice lay beneath the layer of muck.

Wild had assured them that it never snowed on this side of the ravine but with their luck everyone remained skeptical.

Legend had settled at the back of the group, opting not to participate in any idle chit chat or shenanigans the others would come up with as they walked. Observing the others had become entertainment in itself and truthfully it let him pick up on things that the others might not be aware of.

Legend always believed you could learn a lot about a person by how they traveled and his companions were no different. Take Sky for example. When he's frustrated, his steps are heavier and more prominent. As if hes walking with a distinct purpose. Or how when Four has a headache he quickens his pace while simultaneously shortening his stride so it's more of a shuffle. Twilight fiddles with Epona's reigns when he's sleepy and Wars will start mumbling the most random facts when he's hungry.

From his spot, Legend looked over to Hyrule, taking in the way his arms swung at his side. The kid is clearly restless and Legend just hopes he won't go wandering off and get lost until after lunch. Just ahead of him was Four, and (Y/N).

His attention snagged on you.

The way you walk is most similar to the Captain’s. With arms close to your sides with little to no extra movement.

But when you're tired? Your damn hips give it away every time. After long days or a particularly rough battle Legend can see them swaying from side to side. The more exhausted you are, the more they sway like a hypnotizing pendulum.

Just like they were now.

In fact, the longer he stared (not that he was staring) the more differences he noticed. Your arms were crossed in front, fingers digging into the sleeves of your tunic. The tilt of your neck looked strained and uncomfortable with your head practically resting on your own shoulder.

Surely there was a reason for it right? He looked to the others, finding them all wrapped up in other conversations.

Has no one noticed?

Legend focused even harder, trying to figure out what caused this odd change. You had nearly passed out with Sky before Wild had even finished making dinner last night, and it was still early in the day so it didn't make sense to be this tired already. Maybe you were injured? Monsters had been scarce lately, and the ones they had faced had been easily dispatched of. Everything has seemed normal. Well, maybe normal wasn't the right word but rather nothing had been abnormal?

He squinted his eyes in concentration.

“Everything alright Vet?”

Legend barely spared Twilight a glance. “Does… does (Y/N) seem alright to you?” He whispered. He didn't want to worry anyone unnecessarily but there was just something that was eating at him.

Twilight glanced over, considering his question. “She does seem a bit off now that you mention it. I can go check on her.”

“It's fine, I'll do it.” Legend said, quickly stopping him.

He quickened his pace just enough to pass through the group without drawing too much attention. You were closer to Wars now which was a pain if he wanted to be discreet but he inched his way around the Captain so that it looked as if he was simply walking towards Hyrule.

He glanced back over his shoulder and mentally slapped himself for not thinking of it sooner.

Your eyes were barely open, fluttering open just long enough to keep you from running into someone. Your face was pale and scrunched up in a twisted expression.

He stepped beside you, tapping your shoulder with a single finger. “(Y/N)?”

Your posture quickly straightened, stumbling slightly as you rubbed at your eyes. You looked like death. Your lips were pressed into a thin line to hide their quivering despite the sweat beading down your temples.

“For Din’s sake. Why didn't you tell anyone you aren't feeling good?”

“m’fine…” you mumbled, swatting his hand away. You attempted to keep walking, though you swayed enough to bump into him.

He grabbed onto you, keeping you from passing out where you stood. Your head immediately flopped onto his shoulder. Leaning against him with a heavy groan. He hadn't even realized he stopped walking until he heard someone call for the others to stop.

“Everything alright?” Time asked as everyone gathered around.

Legend could already feel the heat radiating off of you but he placed the back of his hand on your forehead anyway. “She’s definitely got a fever,”

“She's sick?”

“She seemed fine this morning!”

Legend felt your knees buckle slightly as you rested more of your weight against him. He put his arm around your waist and pulled you closer for better support.

“Do we need to stop?”

“Wild how far till the stable?”

Wild looked at his slate “2 hours? Maybe 3?”

Time stepped up, placing the back of his hand on her forehead as well. “It would be preferable to rest at the stable in case the weather takes a turn again,” He mused.

“They're barely conscious let alone in any condition to hike through Wild's era for 3 more hours” Legend remarked, noticing how unsteady your breathing was getting.

“I can carry ‘em if it'll help,” Sky offered, already stepping closer and holding out his arms.

If Legend tightened his grip on you just a bit no one seemed to notice.

“No offense Sky but I don't think you're the best one to carry someone for that long.” Twilight teased and Sky rolled his eyes.

“Plus your immune system is shit. You'll probably catch whatever it is they have, " Legend added.

“Oh come on guys I'm not that bad!” Everyone gave him an unimpressed look and Sky sighed in defeat.

“I'll do it” Captain said in a tone that suggested that this solution was obvious. He stepped forward and reached for your arm but you immediately squirmed and pushed him away. Trying again, he huffed in annoyance at the way you flung your arm to avoid his grasp.

The others snickered as Twilight came up, patting Wars shoulder almost sympathetically before he swooped his hand under your arm.

“Ow! (Y/N) what the heck!?” Twilight quickly stepped away, rubbing his shin that you had kicked.

You curled into Legend who was trying not to show how smug he felt at your blatant rejection towards anyone carrying you.

“I'll do it,” Legend said, trying to sound calm and unaffected.

“You sure? We can always-”

“It's fine, I've already got them anyway. It's just till we get to the stables right? So let's just get going.” Legend passed Wild your stuff to store before handing his sword and shield to Hyrule. Then shifted around until his back was to you.

You mumbled a small protest but weakly wrapped your arms around his neck as he bent down and picked you up. With his hands securely under your knees he took a few steps to make sure neither of you would fall.

“Alright let's keep moving.”

———

Legend was prepared to be exhausted by the time they got to the stable. He knew he'd likely be a bit more sore as well. But he was willing to put up with it. Even if it was a downright pain for him, at least he could mentally prepare himself now for what would likely be a rather long night later on.

What he hadn't been prepared for though was the constant battle to keep his goddess damned emotions in check.

Soon after they had started walking again your head had rested on his shoulder. He had obviously anticipated that considering you could barely hold it up a moment ago.

But then your arms would wrap tighter around him. Not enough to hurt or make him uncomfortable, but just enough to grab his whole attention before then relaxing.

Meanwhile your nose would brush along the length of his shoulder. Trying to bury your face further into his tunic with a soft whine that tugged at his heart.

At first he tried to ignore it. You were simply trying to get more comfortable so you could at least try to rest.

Ignoring it only went so far though as the further they walked the more often you would do this.

It was driving him crazy.

Each time, you clung to him tighter, nuzzling your face deeper into the crook of his neck so your hair tickled against his jaw line. Occasionally the collar of his tunic would get shifted, allowing the tip of your nose to brush against the skin of his neck. A warm shiver raced up his spine at the feeling, settling in his chest before he would quickly readjust. Shoving away the warmth in an attempt to try and stay unbothered.

Unfortunately for Legend, he found himself beginning to lean into it. Giving your legs a small, reassuring squeeze whenever you pressed into his neck.

Letting the warm feeling linger just a little longer before trying to convince himself to push it away. You were sick. Obviously you weren't being entirely yourself at the moment. It's not like you were trying to be so stupidly adorable.

Almost selfishly, the next time he had to reach up to adjust the collar of his tunic, he loosened it so that the fabric could fall away from his neck.

Just as he had hoped, the fabric was quickly replaced with your face nuzzling into the now more exposed skin.

He had to take multiple deep breaths to try and regulate his own heart beat, afraid that you could hear it pounding against his chest.

Almost as if you realized what you were doing, you pulled away with a mumbled apology.

“I-It's fine” he was quick to respond, hoping you wouldn't pull away from him more. “Tell me if you start feeling worse, yeah?”

He felt you nod slightly before your face returned to where it had been. With a small sigh of relief, he laid his own head on top of yours for a moment.

A content hum reached his ears, making him smile softly as you finally seemed to settle and eventually fell asleep.

———

Two hours of walking later and the stable was nowhere in sight. Wild had assured them that it was close by but Legend wasn't hopeful. You have been in and out of consciousness, though currently seemed to be passed out again.

It did little to help ease the worry Legend felt.

You was alarmingly hot and he knew it needed to be treated soon before it became dangerous.

You groaned softly, lifting your head from his shoulder. “L-link?” you whispered in his ear

He craned his neck to look at you. Your skin was a ghostly white with eyes an irritated red.

“I..I don't..feel good..”

Legend sighed “Wild says we're almost at the stable. Can you hang on just a little longer?”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head before simply putting it back down “im sorry..”

The second he heard your voice sound so defeated he stepped closer to Time. “We need to stop. They've gotten worse.”

Time reached out his hand to your forehead and immediately called for everyone to stop.

He slipped his arms under yours and peeled you off Legend's back as everyone gathered around.

Time gently laid you down as the Captain hovered over you.

“(Y/N)? Shit, they're burning up. We gotta cool them down.”

Legend quickly grabbed his bag from Hyrule and pulled out his ice rod. “Here, use this!”

He handed it over but quickly snatched it back when Wars sent ice shards flying out of it.

“We need to cool them down, not literally freeze them! Ugh, here. Sky, can I borrow the cape?”

He nodded and quickly handed over the sailcloth. Legend folded it a few times before touching the ice rod to it. When the cloth was sufficiently cool he placed it under your head.

“Alright, Vet make sure it stays cool. Champion, got any medicine in that thing of yours?”

Wild looked at his slate “No but I could probably make something!”

“Good enough, smithy go help him. Rancher and Sky, why don't you go find a better place to set up camp. Rest of us will stay here and keep an eye on things.”

Sky and Twilight walked off while Four followed after Wild. Legend sat on the ground and was soon joined by Hyrule.

“Here, drink some water. We don't need you getting sick too.” Legend rolled his eyes but took the water and downed a few gulps.

A shiver ran through you and Legend was quick to notice.

Reaching into his bag he pulled out his blanket and draped it over you.

You opened your eyes, which seemed foggy and confused.

Hyrule reached out his hand, gently brushing hair away from your face. “Hey, you doing alright?”

You looked at Hyrule, and then at Legend before tears formed in your eyes and slowly shook your head. Hyrule couldn't help but smirk at how quickly Legend reacted to the tears.

In a split second he had pulled you onto his lap. Letting you rest against his chest with your head once again on his shoulder.

“I'm sorry…”

“Don't be. Everyone gets sick.” he whispered. Running his hand up and down your back.

Hyrule leaned over and gently dropped the cold cloth on the back of your neck.

“Thanks” Legend mumbled.

Hyrule didn't respond but Legend still noticed the way his successor was eyeing him. “What?”

“Nothing~”

Legend just raised an eyebrow but Hyrule matched it. Thankfully that's when Wild came over, bottle in hand.

“Here, this should help bring the fever down.”

Hyrule took the bottle and Legend helped you sit up. Hyrule lifted it to your mouth and tilted it as you took a few sips.

The fever didn't disappear instantly but if anything you already seemed to be a bit more comfortable, curling back into Legend.

He combed his fingers through your hair as Hyrule helped make sure the cloth was sufficiently cool. They stayed like that for a while until Twilight came back into view.

“Hey! We found a place for camp. Sky's already started setting up.” Twilight said, kneeling down. “How're they doing?”

“We just gave them some medicine so hopefully the fever will break soon but they really should get some actual rest.”

“Agreed. Alright (Y/N), you heard him.” Twilight gently pulls you away from Legend and scoops you up. “Let's get you some rest.”

Twilight started walking away, leaving the others to follow after him.

The spot they had found wasn't far and before long everyone settled down. Wars and Four were watching over you, while the others trying to find something to do.

Legend sat on the other side of their camp. Trying to finally get his feelings under control.

Hyrule came up and sat down next to him. An unnatural smile on his face that Legend was quick to pick up on.

He glared at Hyrule. Waiting for him to say something but was only met with a tense silence.

“Do you need something or are you just gonna sit there being creepy?”

Hyrule was quiet for a moment. Looking Legend up and down.

“Your tunics undone” Hyrule snarked.

Legend's hand shot up. Quickly tieing the collar closed as he pointedly avoided Hyrule's smirk.

“You sure seemed to be enjoying yourself” Hyrule chuckled at the red that spread on his predecessor's face.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Seriously?” Hyrule deadpans. “It's okay if-”

“Don't. They're sick. That's it.”

Hyrule rolled his eyes but didn't press further. Maybe one day the two would realize what the others already had. Unfortunately for everyone else though it looked like today would not be that day.

[delilahsturniolo]

𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒓’𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 — 𝒄.𝒔 ᥫ᭡⋆˚࿔

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 . . . 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 💌

in which . . . y/n and chris attend boston university, the both of you are always competing and bickering with each other academically. one day, chris suddenly asks you to help him make his ex jealous. the only problem is, you can’t stand each other. what happens when chris can no longer keep his true feelings about you a secret?

warnings . . . none, rlly short.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

one, two, three, four, five.

you hadn’t spoken with chris ever since you were at his house to work on the project. and honestly, you felt a weight lifted off your shoulders by doing so. right now, you were currently out shopping with nick. he was helping you pick out a dress for boston university’s annual winter ball. you weren’t sure who you were going with, or if you even wanted to go in the first place. but, nick insisted on you going.

you stepped out of the dressing room, nick lifted his head from his phone to look at you. the dress was a long dress that flowed down your body. “ooh! i like this one! you might trip on it though, so maybe not.” nick clapped, looking like a proud parent as you spun around in confidence.

“don’t you think it’s too much?” you asked nick, dusting off the dress. “y/n, if anything i think it’s too little. next one!” nick joked. you laughed, going back into the changing room and closing the curtain, stepping out of the dress.

you never usually went to parties, or school dances. you were honestly more lame than you thought you were. all you did was study, study, and study. you felt a pit in your stomach, knowing everyone had a date to the ball and was going to have fun, except you. you changed into the your next dress option, stepping out of the changing room with hesitation, smiling as nick’s jaw dropped.

“this is the one, you look so beautiful!” nick cheered, immediately making you feel better about yourself. “pleaseeee buy it y/n.” nick begged, jumping up and down with excitement.

“i really like it but…there’s no point.” you sighed, your shoulders slumping. nick tilted his head in confusion as those words came out of your mouth.

“i have no one to go with, nick.” you turned your head to look at him, he shook his head. “y/n, you can’t just ditch your first winter ball, this is really important. besides, you don’t necessarily need a date to have fun, y’know.” nick crossed his arms, trying to convince you to go.

“or you could go with chris.” nick suggested, making you scoff and shake your head immediately. “nope, no way. plus, he’s already going with victoria.” you explained to nick.

“what’s happening between the two of you anyway? i could’ve sworn you both hated each other’s guts.” you bit down on your lip as nick said this. if you were being honest, you had no fucking clue what was going on between you and chris, everything was back to how it was before.

“it’s—complicated.” you rubbed your eyes, looking into the mirror and examining the dress on your body. it was such a pretty dress, you really wanted it more than anything. but you couldn’t, you just couldn’t. you didn’t even wanna go to the ball, the thought of seeing chris and victoria there together made you feel sick to your stomach.

“you know what..? i think we should maybe come back another day, i’m not really feeling this dress anymore.” you lied right through your teeth, and nick knew. he knew exactly what you were thinking. nick put his phone in his back pocket and looked at you, seemingly with pity.

“are you sure? i don’t know if we’ll get another dress in time.” nick tried to persuade you, but you only shook your head. “no no, it’s okay. i just—need to get out of here.” nick frowned at your statement, but he nodded in understanding as you went back into the dressing room and closed the curtain once more. “yeah…yeah, that’s okay.” nick spoke softly, he was so worried about you.

and to be honest, you were worried about yourself. you had no idea what was going to happen.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

FSBE 5 - They Were Roommates

The rogue fails an insight check.

On AO3.

The oppressive darkness begins to weigh heavily on them all. Even Astarion, who is technically a corpse and shouldn’t be prone to things like “enchanted mist” and “curse-driven shadows” and “that rotting carcass suddenly filled with moving tendrils and leapt upon the wizard and bit him in the face.”

So after their tiefling smashes the monstrosity to pieces and the cleric seals up said wizard’s face, the party calls a halt to their little march. Astarion finds his hands shake. Likely all the spilt blood—even if it is rotten by Netherese sorcery. It has nothing to do with a puppeted skeleton. That thing had been an empty pile of bones, the sockets hollow and dark. No cursed, red light to be seen anywhere.

Luckily, the camp is grim and gray as usual. After setting up reluctant torches, and after the campfire refuses to do anything more than sputter, they break out their cold rations, set up a watch, and head to their tents.

Including the wretched ball of fur and feathers his ridiculous leader named Sweetums (ugh). Astarion bites back a curse of his own as he lifts his leader’s tent flap and spots the beast. But manages to paint on a false smile as he ducks in.

He does consider turning right around and leaving. He’s used to performing for all sorts of audiences, used his nude body to display to all manner of creatures. None of them have been an owlbear before. Not even a cub. His leader, if she’s to be believed—and he’s very inclined to do so, based on her behavior thus far—has only ever had one sexual encounter in her life. And they both kept their clothes on. Either she intends to kick the beast out (unlikely), or she’s far more open-minded than he’s realized.

Well. This place is dismal and he’s neither scented nor seen so much as a rat. Best keep her close. Even if it turns out she has strange proclivities.

“Hello, darling,” he says.

“I, uh,” his leader says. “Sorry. Sweetums seemed real freaked out. I can’t leave him out there. That ain’t a deal breaker, right?”

How…cute for her to ask. As if he’s any other choice.

The little beastie curls up against her side, limbs drawn into a trembling ball. No, his tender-hearted sweetling won’t give the animal the boot.

Well, it’s not the strangest thing he’s done.

“Not at all,” he says. Drops to all fours and lets the tent fall shut behind him. It’s a touch more difficult to make crawling seductive when his target is sitting on the ground with him. This sort of thing works best when he’s meant to be lower. Subservient. But he’s had ample practice, and he does what he can. Her eyes go wide as he reaches her folded legs.

“Uh,” she says in that low, almost nasally tone she uses when she’s panicking in her own mind.

He reaches her, eases his face closer to hers. But she…pulls back.

Cold fingers clench his stomach. He’s made a mistake. She’s rejecting him, found fault with him and it’s all been for naught. He’ll have to start fresh with the others after she’s punished him, and it will be more difficult once they see him humiliated. This band is the only thing with a pulse out here, and he knows starvation—true starvation, nothing at all like what a living person could withstand—he’ll have to go crawling to one of them just to—

“Could we, um,” she says. Glances to her pet. Back to him. She’s usually quite adept at keeping her face blank. But he’s close enough—and gaining familiarity—to read the awkwardness just beneath her mask. “I know I said, y’know. My tent. As in my tent—jesus lord I sound like a fucking teenager. But. Could we not? Tonight?”

Not tonight. Not have sex. But implying a different night might be more suitable? Because they have an audience and she’s barely engaged in these kind of activities and doesn’t want to now, in front of her beastie. But might be inclined to do so were said beastie not huddled inside her tent.

The icy vice taking hold of his innards eases. A little.

“I was wondering if you’d mind an onlooker,” he says. “You do so love to watch, I’ve heard. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

She flushes so dark he can smell the blood rise on her skin. “That’s not…I don’t…most people watch porn! Even just for research!”

He leans back a bit. Not far enough to set her completely at ease—if they’re talking about the strange sex boxes her world possesses, he wants her to associate that with his proximity. But enough she stops cringing away.

“Research?” he says. “What kind of research would require watching two people in such passionate throes?”

Her brows pinch—a flicker, really—into a slight frown. “Lots. Cultural studies, writers, artists. Hell, just people who’s curious.”

“And which of these was your excuse?”

Gods, but it’s fun to push her. Especially as it seems to ease the coldness even further.

At first glance, she seems a typically chaste flower, prone to bruised petals, to wilting at the mention of sex. But she’s a walking contradiction, his intrepid leader, and instead of blushing and stammering (though she is an interesting shade of red), instead of hiding her face or changing the subject, she looks him dead in the eye (ha), her dark eyes sharp, and lifts her chin to challenge him.

“Curiosity,” she says, bold as she pleases.

Oh, but she’s such a treat.

“Well, I certainly can’t fault you for that,” he says. Leans in again slowly. Watches for her to back away or turn her head. But he’s snared her attention to him, now. Specifically, to his lips as he closes in. Talking about sex has made her think of it, and he’s tying that to him so well he has to work to keep a grin from showing.

In this, his talent is unmatched.

“Actually!” She doesn’t say the words as much as it explodes out of her. It’s so jarring he flinches back. “Sorry! I just…”

Gods below. If he could just kiss her. Remind her of why she needs him.

“I have a question,” she says. “About Shadowheart.”

And just like that, all thoughts of seduction die. He fumbles the amorous airs he’s so carefully slipped on and watches them shatter to the ground. Sits right back on his heels and forgets himself and frowns. “The cleric? What has she to do with anything?”

“Nothing. Or, I don’t know. She’s like, devoted to a god, right?”

This is really happening? His careful plan tossed aside for this? Of all the ways he could be spending her evening.

“We finally get time to ourselves and you’d like a theology lecture?” He can’t help himself. The question is too burning. Too ridiculous. He sighs, feels his shoulders hitch up. “Why don’t you go ask our resident wizard for that? Better yet, ask the cleric herself?”

She winces. “I thought’a that. But she’s all dodgy about it, and Gale got bit by a skeleton. In the face.”

“Of course she’s secretive. She’s a Sharran.”

“A what?”

Shit. So focused on losing his prize, the seduction he’s failed to procure, he failed to spot the trap she’d so blatantly laid out for him.

He should leave. If she’s not receptive to his body, he has plenty of books he could be reading instead (unknown courtesy of the wizard, and if the man doesn’t like it, he ought to keep better watch on this belongings). But she looks at him like…he doesn’t know. Like she listens. Like she has listened to him, and will continue to do so. And with her and the beast in here, he’s become aware of how chilled his own flesh is. How chilled these cursed lands are.

She’s inviting him to stay. Share in the warmth. And, and her time. With his shirt on.

“Our dear cleric hasn’t outright said it, but it’s obvious to anyone paying attention. Shar is a goddess, the sister of Selune,” Astarion says, despite himself. At Eleanor’s blank stare, he smothers the urge to roll his eyes. “Goddess of the moon, the stars, all the usual trappings of that sort of thing. Surely you noticed our dear cleric’s disdain of her at that temple the goblins infested?”

His leader’s gaze goes distant. She nods slowly.

Still looks to him. Sits there, patiently. He came to offer himself to her, as he’s done for so, so many. And instead of grabbing him, clinging to him, baring his flesh to her and using his body for her pleasure, she wants simply to…talk.

“You really would rather spend out evening talking about gods?” he says. Probably shouldn’t. Best not to tempt anything. Yet does it anyway because he’s an impulsive creature.

A strange expression flickers over her features. It’s too fast for even him to catch, let alone pull apart. But she says, “Yeah? If’ you’re okay with that.”

Okay with it?

A quiver ripples through him. Something sickly. Something dreadful. And also, somehow, almost nice.

It’s their surroundings. This horrid place would put a damper on the passion of just about anyone. He can’t actually blame her for her lack of enthusiasm (she had been enthusiastic the last time he touched her) (the only time; he needs to remind her, needs to). And she’s concerned for her pet. Concerned for their cleric, who does patch their wounds after battle.

She’s proven herself to be intellectual and curious, and she is such a recent arrival to this realm. He shouldn’t be too put out, shouldn’t be surprised that she wants valuable information she’ll need to survive.

It’s just odd, is all. To be asked. To be listened to. To be used for his mind, of all things. Not for his flesh.

She fidgets. He’s been silent too long.

“If that’s what you’d prefer, darling,” he says. Folds his legs so he no longer straddles her and instead seats himself gracefully (not at all awkwardly and certainly not hesitantly) next to her.

And he does not balk—just the barest flinch—when she lifts her blanket to drape over his shoulders. Draws him in. Shares the heat of her own body with him, even though she only wants to talk.

Such a strange creature.

His reaction to it all is even stranger. His muscles tense, bunch, as if to bolt for the tent flap. Yet her heat soaks into him and loosens joints he’s so used to aching, he doesn’t even register the pain until it begins to soothe away.

So he does what he’s used to doing. He holds himself still. Pastes on a less flirtatious smile (imagine that). Opens his mouth to see of his words can distract future pain from visiting him. “Shar is often called by her followers the Lady of Loss. Most people despise her.”

[5hrignold]

notes/remarks about jax in episode 4 (it’s a Little Bit long)

-its kinda believed that his only moment of trying to be a tiny bit better to interact with in the episode is when he asks pomni how she is after everything but i feel like even the beginning of the ep suggests him doing this . this has been stated 6000 times but he was making an attempt to participate in something with teaching gangle how to play baseball, and when ragatha got pissed at him for breaking her comedy mask he went “why are you always making me out to be a bad guy???im not a bad guy” and then when he follows gangle into zoobles room he just seems relaxed and docile, he keeps smiling throughout the entire interaction even when the focus isn’t on him, and he only ever looks annoyed when caine barges in . not necessarily jax-related but i noticed that was what happened in ep3 too! everyone just hanging out together and actually bonding on purpose and it being interrupted by caine taking them on an adventure. it’s interesting to me idk

-he’s put off by the direction of the adventure right off the bat. after pomni raises her hand and asks caine for a less intense adventure he’s frowning at her because in his mind she just ruined what sounded like a really fun violent thrilling adventure - especially after the way hes been kind of disappointed after the past two ones . despite this he is back to smiling and joking again by the time the suggestion box is brought up

his pout and angry eyes r so fucking cute god help me

-the part where zooble replies with “good” after he mockingly says that their submission was genuinely hurtful is special at least to me cuz it’s one of the only moments where instead of flat out ignoring it or getting angry at it, jax actually recognises and engages with someone expressing their distaste for him. and also onto a more possibly nothingburger thing that drives me crazy regardless that got pointed out to me through a youtube comment

this. this cycle of expressions here? if you squint really hard you can see the moment his feeling are hurt with your own two eyes!!!! at first i thought the comment was just about him looking down at gangle, but it’s actually the thing immediately before that where his smile drops slightly and he looks down, and then back at zooble for a split second. extremely small thing that might not even be real that i probably wouldn’t have noticed for ages if ever but regardless. Drives me up the wall. also this maybe possibly puts the “genuinely hurtful” line in a different light. i personally think that was actually just him joking and not really thinking about it though

-his “im really doing this” look. also the fact that he even went into it willingly gives me some questions like. does he actually just never skip on adventures ever no matter what they are just because he would So strongly rather not be left alone. did he see what happened to zooble and just assume the same would happen to him if he tried to get out of it

-it’s cute to me how fast he was to try and derail the adventure like he was probably calculating and remembering everything he knows about kitchen hazards/accidents and stuff. imagine all the fun he could’ve had with that if he was left uninterrupted

-it hurts

-he probably would’ve said “what are you gonna do about it though” as a response to anyone here but also this was definitely more initially enticing to him because typically he sees gangle as the one member who’s the most defenseless against him and will mostly take whatever he does. now him saying this was either him being like lol imagine YOU actually doing something to stop me; or a genuinely curious invitation as to what she was actually going to do after saying that. but either way whatever it was gets almost completely shattered after he hears caine agree to put a punishment in place, followed by gangle giving jax his first orders of the day. i deeply enjoy how genuinely unnerved he looks here. like i can imagine hes probably never been in a situation quite like this since he entered the circus -which kinda connects into another thing with jax in this episode that i think about a lot that’s just . was this entire episode how he felt in his real life before the circus. it’s pretty much a given that he could not and did not act at least exactly the way he does now in the circus in his old life, especially considered how he was still like sorta fresh into adulthood before getting trapped. this ties very very very deeply into my personal ‘jax cannot function in the real world is prone to becoming depressed and aggravated when he’s tested to even the smallest conditions against him’ belief. before this the only real support for this was how moody he got in ep 2 but the way he reacts to his circumstances in this one just. absolutely takes the cake im so fucking grateful

-“we wait until after hours for that” and then he immediately looks up at the clock to see how much time he has to wait until he can freely talk about how hates this one guy. Pointless animal

-i like how deadpan and honest he is in the scene leading up to the reevaluation where he’s talking with gangle. like he’s not in the mood for playing with the others but he’s not completely exhausted and flustered yet either he’s just. normal. neutral. extremely rare and specific angle of him we probably won’t ever see again. it’s like a complicated and intricate dish of food that you have to like wait until a certain time of year to be able to prepare. the “i like you better when you’re sad” is at least in my mind and my perception of him, the one single time in the show where jax’s behaviour is sincerely meant to be mean and malicious. there’s no jovial tone to it it’s not meant to be funny even to him, he just says it so flatly and with such purpose that it’s so obviously true, almost to the point where it feels like he didn’t even mean to say it but he sure did. this moment could also demonstrate the barely-theory of jax acting worse and more cutthroat the more bored/upset/angry he feels himself. extremely good moment of him Just being an Asshole with no fun side to it whatsoever . there should be more of those i think and there probably will be

-nothing to say about the reevaluation itself except that the flashing makes it pretty hard to see but you if you like zoom in / look closely you can tell that he’s quivering and his ears and eyebrows slowly lower. it’s way way clearer to see if you find the behind the scenes video for it and look there cause it doesn’t have the flashing. Personally i lost my shit when i first realised this and also i lowkey think this scene may have been my awakening for him being my favourite it just took about 3 weeks to take root

-the part where he gets out and sees the clock hasn’t moved at all is the first time in the show jax has actually raised his voice like Ever. hes never once reached the point of yelling at someone out of frustration before this

-i actually think he was super affected by ragatha saying she hates him while on the stupid sauce. both this and the moment with zooble earlier on in the episode supports the idea that he doesn’t exactly understand that the others mostly dislike him, or at least tries to never ever think about the possibility of it. him concluding that she’s drunk or something and stepping over her was both a tiny sarcastic remark and also something to make himself feel better and give a sort of explanation for why she said that. like oh surely that’s not how she really feels about me! no Pal

-AGAIN. everyone and their mother has talked about this but the part with him going up to pomni and asking how she is is like. I view everything as being evidence but this is like the most explicit “there is no other explanation other than this” evidence for the idea that jax almost solely relies on the other circus members no matter what the nature of the attention/reaction from them is. he purely seeks out anything he can get from them to feel seen and noticed and real. the most peculiar part of this interaction to me is that he doesn’t spin it around to talk about himself really except for the “wish i could say the same” statement. like you would think he’d be like Ughhh my day has been awfulll but no he apparently just wants to know if pomnis good? ???? thats the one thing that sorta perplexes me here lowkey

[ylangelegy]

redbullracer!seungcheol x jounalist!reader (i will cry????)

some time ago, i was obsessed with this f1 edit of seungcheol and i ended up with a plot featuring world champion red bull racer choi seungcheol having a big fat crush on a competent, no-nonsense journalist. seungcheol is commitment-phobic, a bit of a simp, and has zero rizz. his co-driver jeonghan takes advantage of this 🫡

under the cut is a little in medias res moment somewhere around the first scene! tbh, i feel like i still lack the f1 know-how to pull off this fic so it will rot in my drafts for now (߹ ᯅ ߹)

"They always ask about my love life," Seungcheol grumbles, running his hand through his hair.

"It's like they don't care about anything but that," he continues, before his expression sharpens the slightest. "Did they ask you something weird?"

Jeonghan's eyebrows quirk and he makes a show of thinking. "Oh, they asked if you had a crush on someone," he replies, waving a hand dismissively. "I was really surprised— you're a grown man!"

He pauses, just to give the moment some dramatic weight. "But I told them the actual truth, of course," Jeonghan finishes, grinning wide.

Seungcheol feels a strange shiver of dread go up his spine at Jeonghan's admission. He pauses before he leans over, his expression intent. His eyes flicker between Jeonghan's, and his voice drops to a hushed whisper. "You didn't."

For a moment, neither one of them say anything. But Jeonghan can't keep up with the farce any longer, and he howls with laughter.

Jeonghan doesn't even try to keep a straight face as he laughs, the noise loud and sharp. Seungcheol immediately smacks him on the shoulder, his expression horrified.

"You really told her that I have a crush?" Seungcheol hisses, casting a quick look around. No one looks even remotely interested in him, too busy wrapped up in their own conversations to pay him and Jeonghan much mind. Meanwhile, Jeonghan is still laughing. He's hunched over, practically wheezing.

"I told her," he says, confirming Seungcheol's worst nightmare. "And guess what? She had a pretty interesting response for me."

Seungcheol sighs before dropping his head in his hands. Wonderful.

"What did she say?" he responds, his voice coming out as a grumble. There's a slight bite of irritation to his tone, directed at Jeonghan.

Jeonghan snickers again, almost giddy with the information.

"That your love life is of no interest to her," Jeonghan responds, grinning. He makes a show of nonchalantly inspecting a finger. "She wasn't too keen to talk about your little heart-pumping, butterflies-in-stomach kind of crush, either."

Seungcheol can feel his stomach drop at Jeonghan’s words. He had hoped that Jeonghan'd been lying in order to rile him up. There was hope, at the back of his mind, that you might be even the teensiest curious who he was interested in.

"She didn't ask about who it was?" Seungcheol asks weakly, hoping against hope that Jeonghan's answer will change.

Jeonghan pauses, just to build up suspense.

"She didn't," he confirms, and he's not even trying to hide how gleeful he is about this whole thing. "All she wanted to know was how my drive was."

Seungcheol closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

It figures. The one time he's actually interested in someone— something he didn't think could even happen— and it's a girl who has doesn't give two damns about his life off the track.

"She's very professional," Seungcheol huffs, lifting his head, and he’s definitely not pouting.

"Oh, she is," Jeonghan agrees. His smile is more subdued now, but it's still there, still present.

"She cares about racing, above all else. That's a good quality, isn't it?" Jeonghan adds as he glances over to where you can be seen, speaking with Chan from Mercedes.

Seungcheol follows Jeonghan's gaze, peering at you.

You're engaged in an animated conversation with Chan, and although your voice is too low for him to hear, he notes your serious expression as well as the rapid-fire way you talk with your hands.

Seungcheol makes a face, sighing again at Jeonghan’s words. "What's the point of being attracted to someone that laser-focused on work?" the older man muses, the rhetorical question more for himself than anything.

The answer to Seungcheol's question comes right on cue. Chan's gaze flicks over your shoulder, towards the two Red Bull drivers, and he must mention it to you or something. In the next moment, you're twisting around to give Jeonghan and Seungcheol a small wave of your hand.

And a fraction of a smile.

Seungcheol is painfully, visibly affected.

At your tiny little smile, he feels his heart begin to pound. A shiver of heat goes up his spine. And are his ears turning red?

This is bad. This is very bad.

Jeonghan catches the reaction and begins to snicker again. Seungcheol feels the urge to hit his best friend in the stomach.

"You're screwed," Jeonghan teases, his voice a delighted little whisper. "You’re so, so screwed."

this WIP is currently at an est. 20k words but it's a mess!! all the f1 terms are wonky!! etc., etc.— as a small bonus (and apology, because i may never publish this in full lol): i abused taylor swift's so high school while writing, so the line i associate most to this fic is 'brand new, full throttle/you already know, babe' 🏁

[deadwooddross]

A very crunchy sneaky peak of this months upcoming stickers…little hydra wormies!

I’ll be testing out printing some little stickers to go with the big ones, so this time everyone will getting ~3 whole little guys~

[overchromatic]

bitches love me for my Allister doodles

[skrunksthatwunk]

damnnn that manga about making manga got me acting funny (making 5 year plans)

[waywardsalt]

.

[miihho]

Can you write type of guy headcanons for thanos (230) please? thx <33

THE KIND OF GUY

(squid game edition) nsfw

English

Korean

Thanos / Player 230

—THANOS IS THE KIND OF GUY who’d shamelessly flirt with you, his words dripping with confidence and charm. He’d slip in Spanish pet names like "señorita" so naturally, it was as if he were born to sweep you off your feet.

There was one day when he suddenly dropped to his knees, a smirk dancing on his lips as he grabbed your hand gently. "I might just start my own religion, because of how often I find myself on my knees for you." He said as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it, his gaze never leaving yours. You felt your face heat up, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks at the boldness of his actions.

He’d also call you every sweet name in the book—"baby," "angel," "princess," "beautiful"—each one rolling off his tongue with effortless confidence. And if that weren’t enough, he’d take it a step further, rapping his feelings for you in a way that was both cheesy and undeniably endearing.

—He’s the kind of guy who’d have a slow-burn romance without even realizing it. At first, it’s nothing more than casual interactions, small moments here and there. He doesn’t notice the shift—how his thoughts linger on you longer than they should, how he starts to care just a little bit more. It’s gradual, almost imperceptible, until one random moment hits him. Like it would suddenly click that he likes you. And now, he can’t stop thinking about it.

—He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t give up on you, no matter how many times you ignored him. Your cold shoulder, your silence—it didn’t faze him. If anything, it only fueled his determination. He’d chase after you relentlessly, his confidence unwavering, his charm impossible to ignore, until you had no choice but to face him.

He spotted you weaving through the crowd, your determined strides screaming leave me alone. Naturally, that only made his grin wider. He adjusted his jacket, his confidence as unshakable as ever, and started after you.

"Señorita!" he called out, you didn’t even glance back at him, but when he saw your pace quicken, it only fueled his determination. He caught up easily, walking alongside you like he belonged there.

"Ah, playing hard to get? I like that," he teased, tilting his head to glance at you with that infuriatingly smug smile. "But you know, you make it way too easy for me to chase you baby. You’re irresistible."

You rolled your eyes and turned sharply, hoping to lose him in the crowd. But the next corner you turned, there he was—leaning casually against a wall, arms crossed, like he’d been waiting there all along.

"Miss me already?" he teased with a smirk, his body blocking your path. "You can run, but you can't hide princess. Not from me."

You tried to sidestep him, but before you could get far, he placed a hand dramatically over his heart, feigning hurt. "Ouch, breaking my heart like that? Really?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes in disbelief. "Just stop, I can’t stand you."

With a smirk that practically oozed confidence, he leaned in slightly, his voice teasing yet bold. "Then just sit on my face."

"W-what!?" You froze, eyes wide with shock, your heart pounding. "Just fuck off!" you snapped, brushing past him quickly, your face flushed in a mix of embarrassment and irritation.

He chuckled, watching you retreat with that same infuriating smirk. But you knew, as much as you tried to get away, he wouldn’t stop. He was persistent, and no matter how many times you brushed him off, he’d keep following, keep bothering you.

—He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t tolerate some random guy flirting with you. If he saw it happening, he wouldn’t hesitate to step in. He’d interrupt the conversation, push the guy back with a forceful shove, and growl, "Back off man! Who the fuck do you think you are hitting on my girl!?" (Yeah even tho you're not his yet)

If the guy was making you laugh or smile, he’d simmer in silence, his jealousy simmering beneath the surface. Once the guy was alone, he’d track him down, corner him, and with a dangerous edge to his voice, he’d lean in, his eyes burning with fury.

"Stay the fuck away from Y/n. Got it?" He said, his fist landing a brutal punch to the guy’s stomach, leaving him crumpled on the floor. "She’s my girl," he’d add, his tone low and possessive. "My woman."

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t help but yell, "Ah, there’s my girl!" with a huge grin spreading across his face when you made it out alive. Without a second thought, he’d rush to you, scoop you up in a tight embrace, and hold you like he’d never let go. "I’m so happy you're alive, baby. God, you don’t know how much I missed you." His grip would tighten as if to never let you slip away again.

—He’s the kind of guy who isn’t intimidated by you. He’ll rush toward you, full of energy, relieved that you made it through when the lights went out. While everyone else stood frozen in fear, staring in shock, you were casually wiping blood off your hands, having taken down a whole group without breaking a sweat.

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t believe he’s dating you after you finally accepted him. Like, a guy like him? Sure, he’s Thanos and pretty damn cool, but damn, you’re way cooler than him. So, every now and then, he’ll just blurt out, “Damn, I’m dating her?” when he thinks about you, or “I can’t believe she’s mine.” and his friend will just stare at him, completely weirded out.

—He's the kind of guy who's wildly in love with you, the type to fight a wild animal just to impress you. He lives to make you laugh, even if it means pulling off the dumbest, most ridiculous stunts. His love is chaotic, loud, and endlessly entertaining, but that's what makes it so unforgettable.

One day he tried to bake you a cake from scratch, only to set off the smoke alarm—but he still proudly presented you with the lopsided, half-burnt result, claiming it was "made with love." Or he'd show up at your door with a bouquet made of random wildflowers (and weeds), proudly declaring it’s “nature’s finest” while grinning like a fool.

—He’s the kind of guy who would let you paint his nails in any color you choose or decorate them however you like, all because he loves you and wants you to have that little piece of him.

—Thanos is the kind of guy who always needs to be in physical contact with you when you're together—his hand on your thigh, his arm around your shoulders. He craves that connection, that constant reassurance of your presence. Public displays of affection? He couldn’t care less. If you want him to kiss you in front of everyone, consider it done. If you mention he can kiss you after a game, why would he wait for privacy when he can claim you right in front of his friends? For him, it’s not just about the kiss—it’s about showing the world that you’re his and making sure you feel adored, no matter where you are.

—He’s the kind of guy who’s utterly captivated by your thighs, completely addicted to the way they feel wrapped around him. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be, no place more intoxicating than being suffocated by your softness.

He doesn’t just admire them—he worships them. His lips leave a trail of love marks along your skin, his way of claiming every inch as his own. Between kisses, his voice comes out low and teasing, filled with desire. (He also loves eating you out while you're wrapping your thighs around his head and getting suffocated by it. )

—He’s the kind of guy who would cover you in hickeys, leaving them all over your neck and thighs, a clear sign that you’ve been claimed and are already his. With a smirk, he’d tell you he’s just marking his priority, as if every mark is a reminder of who you belong to.

—He’s the kind of guy who’d proudly show you off to his friends with a grin and say, “Yeah, this my girl right here.” And damn, he wouldn’t just say it—he’d feel like the luckiest guy alive to have you by his side.

—He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t just take you—he claims you. If he ever finds out you're with someone else, he'll make sure you remember exactly who you belong to.

Thanos' rough words dripped with condescension as he gripped your hips, pulling you onto his thick shaft in one brutal thrust. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to pound into your mercilessly. "You're fucking mine, this fucking tight pussy is mine," he snarled, his balls slapping against your ass with each savage stroke. "This fat cock is the only thing you need. That pathetic loser can't touch this, can he?" He reached down to rub you clit, his fingers pinching the sensitive bud as he continued to ravage you. "Hngg!...—pls s'too much! too much! Thanos m'sorry p-please I w-won't do it again."

"Stop?" He chuckled, "We both know you love this. Being used like a cheap whore, stuffed full of dick. Admit it, you'd rather choke on my cum than go back to that limp-dicked loser."

—Hes the kind of guy who loves messy blow jobs. The sight of your lips stretched obscenely around his throbbing cock, your eyes glazed over in blissful submission, he fucking loves it. Loves how you surrendered completely, letting him control every movement as he fucks your mouth.

"Fuck... Your throat was made for my dick, wasn't it? Such a perfect fit, like you were born to worship my cock." he moaned, tangling his fingers in your hair and using your mouth like a cheap fleshlight as he chased his pleasure. The wet sounds of sloppy oral sex filled the air, punctuated by your muffled whimpers and gurgles. (Gosh he fucking loves that) "Fuck yes... hngg—take it baby, take it all, you filthy little cumdump!" His hips snapped forward, burying his cock to the hilt in your gullet while thick ropes of cum spilled in your mouth, forcing you to gag and sputter around his girth. "Look at you, such a good girl, gagging on my dick like it's your purpose in life. You were meant to be a cumdump, weren't you? Fucking slut."

—He's the kind of guy who loses his shit when you squirt into his mouth, he just fucking loves it when you're flooding his mouth with your ambrosial release. Saying "Holy shit," "I love you so fucking much baby," "Mmmm, you're fucking addictive as hell, baby. Can't get enough of this sweet juices." as he greedily laps up every drop. Just the taste of your squirting orgasm would send him into a fucking frenzy.

—He's the kind of guy who takes you apart piece by piece every time he gets you alone, his usual cruel exterior dissolving into raw, unbridled need. He doesn't just touch you—he worships you, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony to draw out every moan, every shiver, every scream he can pull from you.

"You’re so fucking beautiful when you cum for me," he'd say, his voice dripping with hunger as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. His lips never leave your skin, trailing kisses and bites down your thighs, across your stomach, up to your neck.

"Look at you, spread open and dripping for me like the filthy little slut you are," he taunted, dragging a finger through your slick folds. "I bet all those prissy boys never made you feel this good, did they? They probably couldn't handle a real woman like you." he whispers, his breath hot against your ear as your body writhes beneath him. Even when your legs shake and your cries turn into breathless pleas, he doesn’t stop. He keeps you teetering on the edge, drawing out orgasm after orgasm until you’re left trembling, completely undone, and utterly his.

[zevrra]

𝐢. 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

synop: you and vik get caught “messing around” in the lab by jayce; who surprisingly wants to join in on the fun.

wc: 1.8k

includes: straight smut, p w/o p, fem!reader, jayce x reader x viktor, slight vöyeurism, oral (m receiving), slight dirty talk, threesome, bottom!viktor

extra: part 2 is here! reblogs are appreciated <3

“don’t worry,” you whisper, fingers twirling along a red tie before smoothing down the front of viktor’s vest. “i sent jayce out on an errand run and he won’t be back for a little bit. just enjoy this v.” you add with a hum.

viktor looks up through his pretty lashes at you. he leans back against his desk, practically sits on top of it to keep weight off of his leg, as you two stand inside of the lab. he had been working far too hard recently and the only way you could keep him distracted long enough not to think about anything involving his work was to pleasure him. it was the same way trying to get him to sleep every once and awhile, when he would sneak into your room. you had never suggested doing it in the lab though…and the thought thrilled you just as much as it thrilled him; even if he thought it was a terrible idea.

“w-we shouldn’t. not here in the lab and what if—” viktor mumbles but his words end in a soft gasp as your fingers begin to untuck his shirt from his pants.

“viktor,” you chirp as you fall to your knees in front of him, unbuttoning the front of his pants and pulling them down ever so slightly. “you need to take a break. be a good boy and just relax.”

your fingers are just grabbing the hem of his underwear when the door to the lab is being thrown open and jayce’s large figure enters the room. “hey, i was looking for this thing you asked for but i—“ jayce had begun to speak, his eyes pointed down as he entered the room, before he finally looked up and caught the two of his friends in the act.

you freeze in your spot, eyes widening as you stare at jayce from the floor. a scarlet red blush is spreading across your face, you can feel the heat on your cheeks in an instant and you’re sure you match not only jayce’s shocked face but viktor’s as well; and you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him. you probably stay like that for a little longer than you should’ve until jayce clears his throat and you and viktor alike scramble from each other.

“we!” you start as you stand up straight and as quick as you possibly can. “wait it’s not what it looks like! we were uh just uhm—“ you ramble before looking at viktor to help dig both of you out of this hole. but he’s busied himself with trying to zip his pants back up, making it far more obvious if it hadn’t been already. you sigh, turning your face off to the side to stare at a small spot on the floor, unable to look jayce in the eye.

“do…you do this often?” jayce’s voice cuts through the built up silence in the room like a knife.

you shake your head quickly but viktor speaks up for you instead. “never in the lab.” he mutters.

“it’s unprofessional, we get it, let’s just drop it and forget this—“ you begin to add but the sound of the door closing with a lock interrupts your rambling. when you finally bring your gaze to jayce, his eyes are soft but clear in their intentions. and it was his turn to no longer be able to look at the two of you.

“can i…watch?” he whispers under his breath.

and with three little words, everything changes between all three of you.

now, jayce leans against the lab’s desk as viktor leans back against his chest. jay’s strong hands fully support viktor as you’ve returned to your spot in front of him. you had never in your life thought jayce might have been interested in whatever you and viktor had going on. maybe you just assumed he already had a lover and never brought it up again. but now his hazel eyes stare down at you, just as viktor’s amber eyes also watch you, both with a hunger to their eye. it almost made you nervous, being watched, but your fingers once again hook around viktor’s underwear and pull down, ignoring the jitters that hum under your skin.

your hand wraps around vik’s semi hard cock and you give it a soft tug, rubbing right up the shaft until the tip. there was a new feeling in the air around all 3 of you. breaths being held, eyes watching ever so closely, the slight tremble to your hand. it had been different when it was just the two of you enjoying midnight meetings but now with jayce there too…it felt far more scandalous and naughty.

“tell me what it feels like.” jayce whispers, purposely placing his chin into the crook of viktor’s neck, as his hands slowly run up along vik’s chest.

your own hand continues to move against viktor’s shaft, stroking him slowly up and down, moving to press your lips against his head.

“mmph, her fingers are a little cold,” viktor replies with a low groan. his chest rising and falling in quicker succession as he begins to get turned on. “but it feels good.” he adds. and his honesty makes you smile a little.

you move your hand faster in return to his praise. trailing your fingers along his head, pressing your thumb into the slit of his cöck, where he’s growing sensitive and causing him to gasp softly. you take the moment to lean forward and capture the head of his cock inside of your mouth. drinking in the sight of viktor’s eyes fluttering, his fingers tightening onto whatever he can grasp, as your mouth wraps around him.

“keep going viktor.” jayce instructs as you watch him place hot, heavy kisses against vik’s throat. one of his hands groping his thin chest and waist.

“w-warm! it’s so warm and wet,” vik breaks. he’s fully hard now as you suck on his head, making him whimper at the feeling. “feels—ah—really good.” he adds with a groan as his eyes return to watching you.

you can feel his thighs tighten as you swallow more of his cöck, continuing to use your hand to stroke up to your lips. you watch every expression that crosses viktor’s face along with jayce’s fingers that slowly begin to take off his vest. strips him of his vest and then works on unbuttoning his brown shirt underneath.

jayce keeps laying hot kisses along the back of his neck and on his throat, slumped over and threatening to swallow all of viktor’s thin frame.

the sight makes you somewhat giddy and excited to see what jayce does. but it never distracts you from making viktor feel good as well. sucking a little harder, spit bubbling up at the sides of your lips as you sink further down onto his lengthy shaft. your eyes are almost falling close to help you focus as you swallow more and more of him, but jayce’s voice catches your attention once again.

“she looks so pretty like that, doesn’t she, vik? makin’ you feel so good.” he whispers against just as pretty, pale skin. his words cause vik to stutter, hips lifting up and forcing you to swallow the rest of him. and you do so with ease.

you truly wouldn’t have guessed jayce was so good at dirty talk but you welcomed any surprises at this point. viktor simply whines in response, head hanging low, gaze still on you as you continue your routine of sucking him off.

jayce stands to his full height then, hanging over viktor just enough so he could turn his face and capture his lips. viktor’s eyes widen in response but he does nothing to stop jayce; no, instead he’s melting into the kiss. you watch with eager curiosity as their tongues clash together, jayce easily winning in the battle of dominance, as one big hand of his moves up to gently caress viktor’s throat.

fuck, was it hot watching them. you can feel your pussy throbbing at the sight just as you can feel yourself growing wet against your panties. you squeeze your thighs together, slipping a hand down below to press your fingers into your core. the best you can through the pants you wear for the moment but the pressure is enough to make you groan. you move your lips faster along viktor’s shaft, sucking harsher and sloppier to bring him closer to his end.

the change of pace and jayce’s tongue surely has viktor coming undone quicker than usual. for he breaks the kiss with a harsh whine. “i’m close!” vik gasps, tossing his head back onto jayce’s shoulder.

jayce presses a quick kiss against his jaw before his hazel eyes return to watch you suck viktor off. his eyes are hazy and full of lust as he fixes his intense stare on what you do; which makes you shiver with newfound pleasure under his sight. his strong gaze makes you press your fingers into your pussy once again, seeking any form of satisfaction you could get for the moment.

“look viktor,” jayce instructs as his hand smooths over viktor’s lower abdomen. “she’s touching herself.”

viktor’s breath hitches in his throat but he moves his own lust filled gaze down to stare at you. with both of them returning to stare at you, you palm yourself harder through your pants. moving your hips in sync to every bob of your head, needy and desperate as things evolve, all the while you moan around vik’s cock.

it’s all too much for viktor as his hips lift and he thrusts wildly into your mouth. “going to—!” he cries softly, body tightening, throwing his full weight back against jayce.

but jayce is quicker. one hand grabs your hair and pulls you off of vik’s twitching cock before he takes his hand and wraps it around where your mouth had just left. “stick out your tongue. i wanna see the mess he makes all over your face.” he grunts, pumping his fist quickly along vik’s entire shaft. his hand is much bigger than yours and it wraps entirely around viktor with ease, and it makes vik lose all control he might’ve pretended to have.

but you do as your told and swiftly stick your tongue out to catch whatever you can. all it takes is viktor staring at your tongue and jayce’s hand jerking him off to finish his orgasm. viktor forces himself to watch as he comes, fingers grasping and gripping onto anything he can that’s near him as he tumbles over the edge with a sharp cry.

your name, along with jayce’s name, leaves viktor’s lips in a pathetic whimper as he comes. can feel the sticky substance coat your tongue, cheek, and chin with each rope jayce rubs out of him. all the while viktor and jayce watch as he makes a mess across your lips and face, never once looking anywhere else.

not until vik is completely spent, limp against jayce who holds him up effortlessly. the only noise now in the room is the shared panting between all three of you. you lick your lips, trying to clean yourself up just a little, before it was your turn to break the silence.

“let’s keep going.”

[sukunasweetheart]

the tiger and his milk! 🐯

in this world, a certain tiger hybrid male keeps a keen eye on a cow hybrid female next door...

warnings; female reader, inaccurate?omegaverse, lactation without pregnancy, animal-human hybrid AU (but theyre more human than animal tbh just imagine them with ears and a tail), heat and rut, breeding, alcohol as aphrodisiac, bullying of the cervix, tit sucking, nipple teasing, biting, dry humping, overstimulation, sexual frustration, neighbours-with-benefits, knotting, f!masturbation, lots of cum, this is straight up just a hxntai oop

word count; 6.5k

dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto

do NOT expect a serious and well-paced writing from this one, i was horny and the end result is just.... this. sorry not sorry, I AM WARNING YALL; this is one degenerate ass fic also forgive me for any inaccuracies in any of the tropes i used, i just cherry picked the parts i wanted and mixed it all together so...

moving to this new neighborhood hasn't been all too easy for you.

being a little low on money aside, there's a certain rambunctious neighbour who won't leave you alone. he playfully terrorises you with threats to eat you up, and makes comments that all go straight to your head, making you feel weak and flustered, leading you to cower beneath him. though you should firmly tell him to cut it out, you struggle to do this when you’re dealing with someone who could be a natural predator of yours, had you been an actual sow and not a hybrid. 

that, and also-

strangely, there's a part of you that doesn't despise the way he treats you. in fact, when you see his large, brutish hands and the veins that run up his arms, you feel yourself squeezing your thighs together. you brush it off as it being a result of your apparent loneliness and sexual frustration. there's nothing good that'd come out from being with such a discourteous man.

setting that aside... there are numerous other problems that you've been having to deal with, recently.

your breasts have been collecting milk faster, and much more than usual, recently.

even for cow hybrids, milk should only be produced when the female is pregnant, and for only a year or two at most after giving birth. for some unknown reason, you produce it all year round, even without needing to have children. doctor after doctor you've visited, and all they've told you is that you're a strange anomaly. there is nothing you can do about it except extract it every now and then, to relieve the pain and swelling.

tonight, that is what you're planning on busying yourself with, once you get home from your shitty office job.

walking towards your porch with a deep sigh, you hear a deep voice call out to you.

"bad day at work, dollface?" your terrible neighbour-- sukuna, he's called, asks you with a cigarette in his hand dressed in jeans and a black tanktop. his tail swishes playfully behind him.

dollface. one of the few nicknames he uses condescendingly to refer to you. it's either dollface, doll, or sweetheart, and you don't recall ever hearing him actually use your name.

"um, work was alright... thank you for asking. have a good evening."

you like to make things short and stop any further conversation from happening, even though it might come off as a little awkward. one of sukuna's ears flick at your dry response, but he doesn't seem to bother you any further as you hurriedly unlock your front door and head inside.

sukuna drops his cigarette bud on the ground, and puts out the flame by stepping on it. you're not very sociable, as per usual...

but your sweet, passing scent makes for a little growl to rise in the back of his throat. sweet milk. that's what you always smell like. how curious. how tempting.

once you're home, you immediately grab your breastmilk pump that sits beside your sink. it hasn't been too long since you last cleaned it. you unhook your bra, and grimace at the wet stains on it, from leaking bit by bit throughout the day.

you press the pump up against one of your breasts and press the on button. it starts doing it's job. you sigh from relief, and watch as it fills up quite quickly. you wonder what you should do with all of it...

you stop the pump to empty it out into a glass bottle. it's a tedious process. sometimes... sometimes you wish you had a partner who could help you with it. sometimes, you wish someone would latch their mouth on and extract you directly-

what if he-- sukuna- did that for you? forcefully held you down and-

your eyes widen and your tail droops with shock at your own intrusive thoughts. heavens, no! you need to get yourself a partner. it's been too long. you hope you're not heading into heat already? it's not time for that yet, at least not according to your usual cycle. shaking your head as you extract the remnants of the milk from your breasts, you finish up quickly.

at least tomorrow, it will be saturday.

you'd forgotten about how overgrown the grass in your front yard had gotten. so, even though it's a saturday, and despite how you'd love to stay inside with all the curtains shut and doors locked tight... an unpleasant duty calls outside.

but despite the meticulous preparation of lathering enough sunscreen over yourself in protection against the sun's rays - the lawn mower suddenly doesn't want to heed to your calling.

your face scrunches up into a frown. darn thing.

the useless machine splutters and makes an obnoxious noise only in the beginning before giving out, no matter how many times you try to rev it back up again.

"goddamn it. you stupid thing," you mutter under your breath, crouching down to inspect it.

"need help?"

sukuna leans against the fence that is shorter than his own height, watching you with amusement. he'd been observing you for quite a few minutes by now.

"no thank you. i'm quite alright..." you respond without turning back. you know damn well whose voice that belongs to.

but does he listen? of course not! you hear the noise of the man easily bypassing the fence by elegantly hopping over it, before walking over towards you. how funny, even the fence fails to serve it's purpose in this moment.

"like that's believable. you think verbally degrading it will make it work?" sukuna snorts, coming around and shooing you away from the lawn mower.

he gives it a nice big rev, but not much happens. you smile slightly, wondering if he was going to make a fool of himself, after all that big attitude.

sukuna brings his foot against the side of the machine and gives it a hard kick. the sound startles you.

and now it's starting up nicely, and beginning to do it's job.

the man begins to mow your lawn for you, without another word. you stand around, not knowing what to do... your ears flicker as you stare at him doing your job for you. it feels odd. what is he up to?

well... no matter the hidden motive, it's true that he's doing you a huge favour. perhaps you should at least make a cold beverage for him, once he finishes with your yard. after observing him for a while, you head back inside to search for what would serve as an appropriate iced drink.

by the time you've stepped back outside, the yard is cut neatly and sukuna is in the midst of returning your lawn mower to your garage.

you silently hand him over his drink, and he takes it with a smirk.

"it's gone..." he suddenly comments.

"what's gone?" you question, with a raised eyebrow.

"that sweet smell that always surrounds you."

he proceeds to down his drink very quickly, not breaking eye contact with you. then, he starts chewing on the ice, tail swishing mischievously behind him.

"i... don't know what you mean." you cross your arms.

"hmm. playing dumb, i see. that's fine, i suppose."

you stand awkwardly with him in silence, simply listening to him crunching away on the ice. the heat from the sunlight gets more and more unbearable.

"if you're done with your drink... i think i'll start heading back inside now. thank you for your help today," you tell him politely, carefully taking your cup back from his hands.

he makes it seem like he's handing it over to you obediently, but then he tightens his grip against it when you're holding onto the glass, making you stare up at him in confusion. he pulls it back, so that you stumble closer to him.

"just letting you know. if you need any help, you can always ask me."

you're a bit nervous, but you try not to show it. does he know something? how much does he know? you feel your tail cowardly fall in between your legs. sukuna's ears give a light flick, but you don't know what that means.

"...we're neighbours, after all."

you look at him with distrust, holding onto your cup tighter. your gaze is unwavering as you meet his eyes.

"sure. i'll keep that in mind," you respond slowly.

seemingly satisfied, he lets go of your glass.

"thanks for the drink. see you."

it's a short backhanded wave he gives you, before he hops over the fence again. you narrow your eyes. just what kind of fence is this useless? can't even keep away one bad, bad man. you're not sure how much he's caught onto, but you sure hope he stops being interested in you with enough time. he easily sends odd tingles down your spine, and you don't like that one bit.

not at all...

the working part of an office job isn't actually that bad.

it's the people involved around you that makes it a living hell. nothing gets your blood pressure higher than your collusive colleagues and snobby superiors - especially the lazy ones who do everything to shove their workload onto other people.

such people are yet also, annoyingly obsessed with get-togethers and teamwork, which makes you laugh.

today is such an unlucky day, that you've been dragged off to an after-work gathering at some cheap restaurant with your shitty coworkers, all because one of them decided that they needed one.

nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of people that you hate, on a wednesday evening. you have to put on a fake smile, and remain the passive, agreeable coworker in this environment. they coerce you to drink more alcohol. you want to decline, but you feel as though you'll ruin the mood if you turn them down. you down a few pints of beer.

you can feel your breasts leaking again.

just let me go home, you think to yourself, for the fifth time in a row.

your wish is only granted after an hour or two later. you're still sober, maybe a little tipsy, seeing as you can feel the heat in your face from the alcohol. your body is probably not taking it very well today.

the first thing you do when you get home is washing your hands and settling down with your little trusty pump. when you undo your bra, you sigh in relief as your chest feels free. and also...

it's probably the alcohol acting as an aphrodisiac - you're a bit more sensitive tonight. you caress the swell of your breast and groan, your horniness overriding how tired you are. your other hand wanders down your panties, and your ears droop down.

you purse your lips together and let your fingers work against your clit for an orgasm that you know will be unsatisfactory, but you chase after such pleasure regardless. your breaths quicken, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. nearly there...

just when you were about to reach your first high of the night, a firm knock is heard from your door. just your luck. a ruined orgasm.

who can it be, at this time of the evening? you throw on a cardigan that just barely covers you up, and boldly stomp towards the door, irritated. you could give this person just about any piece of your mind.

but when you open the door, you're met with your most cunning and bothersome of a neighbour, sukuna. maybe it's because you're hornier than ever right now - you feel as though he looks even...hotter, tonight. his scent makes you dizzy.

sukuna had come by because he needed an ingredient for his dinner.

he wasn't expecting to be met with the eye candy that is your slightly disheveled self, with one hand keeping your loose cardigan together, while you're very obviously braless, judging by your nipples jutting out against the fabric. that, and the thick smell of your arousal that hit him right when the door had opened.

"wh-what do you want?" you ask, a little breathless, trying to keep it together.

sukuna looks down at you, trying to keep himself calm. this seems amusing. he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from tenting his pants soon, if he stays around you longer...

"you look like you were busy with something... sorry to interrupt," he voices slyly, his fangs showing when he smiles.

"just... get on with it, please," you frown, your legs squeezing together. you can never tell what he's thinking - whether he knows everything or if he's pretending to know everything.

"nothing much, just ran out of salt at home. could i get some of yours?" sukuna shrugs innocently, holding up his empty salt jar.

"hold on a second."

you turn around to button your cardigan up with a sigh of annoyance, and you tell him to come in while you grab your salt from the kitchen.

once sukuna steps inside, he observes a million details at once. the very first thing he sees is your little pump that you'd forgotten to put away there. there's no way that puny thing is enough for you, is it?

in your kitchen, you grab your jar of salt, and attempt to open the thing - but your arms feel like jelly at the moment. you grit your teeth and try harder, cursing at yourself for shutting it so tight the last time you used it. you begin to strain your arms further. sukuna marvels at this excellent opportunity he is granted.

your feelings of irritation are whisked away when a pair of hands gently land on top of yours, against the jar. his fingertips reach the lid through the gaps between your own fingers. you feel the bigger man's body warmth, when he comes around from behind. it makes you feel so weak. your tail is hanging off to the side, raised high.

sukuna applies a bit of pressure, and the jar comes off easily. you note how warm his large hands feel.

"i came here for the salt, but now i'm thinking maybe i won't need it anymore..." he whispers down at you. your ears can't help but flicker from his voice.

"what... do you mean by that?" you ask, not knowing what to think.

he guides your hands to put the salt down on the counter. and then his body presses up against yours a little harder. you can feel his growing boner against your behind, and you feel lightheaded. sukuna peers down longingly at the exposed side of your neck.

your pheromones mix with his, and his fluffy tail curls around your leg, almost possessively. sukuna's hands are still holding onto yours, and you feel your breaths get more laboured by the tension.

"i promised to lend my help, didn't i? c'mon..." he coaxes, speaking closely so that his breath grazes against the skin of your neck.

you feel yourself starting to sweat a little more - his body heat is just too much. your chest is uncomfortably full, and the thought of someone sucking on your sensitive nipples is enough for you to finally cave in, and play the fool for the night.

you break free from his grasp for a moment, and hesitatingly point to your couch.

"...sit. it's probably easier on the couch," you tell him, not looking his way. and now you're even shoving him towards it, impatiently.

"my, how demanding," he comments teasingly. he knows you purposefully broke the tension - to prevent him from taking the lead. but he obediently takes a seat on your couch. following that, you awkwardly mount him and sit on his lap.

sukuna watches with a softer smirk as you unbutton yourself again, revealing your leaky breasts with a flustered look on your face. sukuna's hit with that familiar sweet scent that's always been floating around you all this time - but now, it's right in front of him, in full force. it makes his mouth water. he was right about you lactating.

"....go ahead," you tell him shamelessly, yet still sorely embarrassed, cheeks feeling so warm that you're concerned you might pass out. "just be gentle," you warn him, looking at him with a little hesitation and pursed lips.

sukuna feels his cock twitch against you, and he wonders if you can feel it too, from the way you're sitting right on it. his own face feels quite flushed - any man would be the same if they were in his position. such a pretty thing in his lap, willingly undoing her buttons for him. he's never seen tits more beautiful than yours.

"hurry-" you breathe out, impatient, and moreover, shy from the way he's shamelessly admiring your face and chest with a dumb smirk plastered on his face.

not even a millisecond after you say it, he puts his searing hot mouth around one of your nipples. your brain ceases to function as a zap runs through your body, and you whine without meaning to, your back arching. though you grab at his shoulder, your other hand claps over your own mouth to muffle your moans.

the suction of his mouth does wonders for pleasure, nothing like the dull feeling that your mechanic pump gives. you hear his throaty growls as he sucks on your nipple, getting a mouthful of the taste of your sweet milk. you shudder on top of him, becoming pliant with his touch.

sukuna bathes in your warmth and the softness of your breasts, enjoying how he is able to breathe in your scent from this close. your milk isn't like anything he's ever had before. not too sweet and yet not bland - a taste that is unique to you...

his other hand squeezes your other nipple, making sure it isn't too lonely from his touch. you jerk your hips against him, whole body twitching from the pleasure, the joy of having your tits milked by someone else rather than yourself. you can't hold your moans back any longer.

"fuck... oh please..." you mumble, feeling your breast being drained of it's milk.

he stops sucking for a moment, and you see the beautiful but subtle blush on his cheeks, as he looks up at you like he's intoxicated. he lets his tongue out and flicks it up and down your erect nipple, rolling it around the areola. it makes you whimper and tremble in his lap.

"don't... tease me..." you say through gritted teeth, frowning at him while he merely chuckles at your reaction.

sukuna attaches his mouth to your other breast, as it's leaking so much - as if to beg him to drain it next.

your cunt is pulsing so bad, and you feel yourself drenching your panties already. you subconsciously grind down against him and his obvious boner, trying to relieve yourself, desperate to reach a proper orgasm this time. both of you are in a lusty haze, unconcentrated eyes, you're lost in pleasure and he's lost in the taste of you, your breast milk dripping down his chin as he messily gulps down with greed.

sukuna also bucks his hips up against you, cock straining in his pants - god, he's so hard that it hurts. when was the last time he's felt such a way? he breathlessly sucks and slurps everything out of you, feeling the milk pass down his throat and into his stomach. he could drink this shit forever.

he wants to cum. he's gonna fucking cum. into his pants no less, like a damn virgin. with the way you're rolling your hips around and grinding down on him like a whore, its only a matter of time.

"haah... sukuna... more- do it more," you plead, relishing in the pleasure of having your tits taken care of, while you get yourself off on his very obvious erection - rubbing your clothed cunt against him. it feels so good on your sensitive clit, you're gonna lose your damn mind.

sukuna doesn't pry his lips away from your nipple, but his hands come off your breasts - you feel his arms wrap around your waist instead, holding you down against him tightly, guiding your hips and helping himself dry hump you harder while his face is still all up in your tits.

your breathing quickens even further, and you grab fistfuls of his shirt on his back, shutting your eyes in anticipation-- before letting your orgasm crash over you completely. you gasp as your clit throbs intensely, and you feel slick leaking all over in your panties as you ride your climax out against sukuna's hard cock, shuddering as you do so.

sukuna groans with his mouth still on your breast, his orgasm coming a little later than yours, dick twitching as rope after rope of his cum soils his boxers, hips bucking up into you without control - it feels so restricted in his shorts, and he desperately wants to take it out. his lips finally leave your swollen nipple with a little pop sound. his large hands come to grope the soft flesh as he comes off his high, a dull throb ringing in his cock, one orgasm being far from enough.

"look at you, rubbing your cunt all over my cock to get yourself off, like a proper slut. aren't you a little too eager?" he teases breathlessly, with a weak smirk on his face.

"you're the one... that came onto me so strongly..." you pant, drunk from the waves of pleasure you just received, and from the endless twitching of sukuna's giant cock... he's still hard.

"just admit that you're perverted. arguably, even worse than what i am," sukuna mocks, pinching at your nipples, making you wince.

"shut up, you."

in the spur of the moment, you lift your hips up slightly to shove your hand down his pants to take his dick out due to irritation. sukuna gives the slightest flinch from the sensation of your hand, grabbing onto his now bare erection.

you begin to fiercely jerk him off with a frown on your face, wanting to punish him for his comments a few seconds ago, knowing he's still sensitive from his recent orgasm.

"fuck-! what're you-" he cuts his own voice off with a choked off gasp due to the tight grip of your hand against his twitching cock. he's back to bucking his hips again as you pump up and down with both hands, his dick already being lathered with his own cum making it easier for you. the noises that come out of him almost fills you with pride - and also surprise. you'd never thought that someone like him would ever moan in this way... you jerk him off faster, and a little harder, being fixated on his pretty looking cock that keeps jumping in your hands.

"shit! that's- enough-" sukuna gasps again, chest heaving and whole body jerking, but oddly, not attempting to stop you at all.

you watch in awe, as his cock spurts out several strings of white cum once again, his head tilted back with deep groans, dick pulsing - your hands keep away from it for the first few seconds just to observe, but then you help to milk it dry, grabbing his base and slowly stroking up and down. he shudders from your touch, and the sight of him being so sorely sensitive makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy again.

he really does cum a shit ton. it goes for what seems to be like ages, never ending pulses of his cock and rope after rope tainting your hands, and his own stomach. the way he shivers before you, how captivating his groans sound, it all makes you want to do it all over again.

you slowly rub his tip against your palm, playing with his dick as if it were a toy - but this time, he grabs your wrist to stop you.

"enough..." he says with a low voice - and the look that he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.

he's beginning to smell a bit different. its not like before. and it's getting thicker by the second...

"ah, fuck.... i'm in rut," sukuna admits with a scowl, and a flushed face.

the realisation hits you like a truck.

"look at what you've done," sukuna growls as he grabs your hips and pushes you closer towards him, his cock impossibly harder. he's breathing heavily, and you see the precum that's gathering on his tip. he won't be able to hold himself back much longer, and you know it.

and curse the omega in you - you're unable to resist him, and you can feel yourself syncing with his rut, a strange swoop occurring in your stomach. his strong pheromones make you lightheaded and feverish, instigating your submissive side as you become obedient - sitting on his lap with an eager shine in your eyes, breathing heavy from his strong scent and your desire to be dominated.

you want to have your brains fucked out. you can't take it anymore.

as if reading your mind, sukuna lunges forward and practically throws you onto your back on your couch - you let out a yelp and watch as he pulls your shorts and panties down and casts them aside, stripping you completely. you feel so vulnerable, but his intense strength and desperation is only adding to your arousal.

he pushes your knees up and rubs his cock up against your clit, and puckering hole.

"look at all this slick. you want me that bad huh?" sukuna remarks darkly, sweat gathering on his temples.

you grit your teeth, fighting the urge to give him a meek response - having the strange desire to provoke and set him off until the end.

"you're the desperate one here..." you tell him breathlessly, sensing how his dick is practically begging to be inside you, with the way it twitches on your cunt.

your blood runs cold for a second, when you see the way he looks down at you, with a vein popping out on his forehead.

"...maybe i am," he relents, with a low voice, grabbing your face.

and then he leans down to shove his lips against yours, while thrusting his cock into you at the same time.

you whimper into the kiss as his tip hits your womb like nothing. you'd ignored how massive he was at the start, but now it's impossible to brush off.

"t-too big..." you mumble when he breaks away from your lips.

sukuna groans as he drags his cock in and out of your sopping cunt, practically holding him in an iron grip from the suction. your endless amount of slick coats his dick with plenty of lubricant to fuck you more easily.

"you can take it, doll. i'll make you take it..."

his eyes dilate as he begins to piston his hips at a fast but uneven pace, groaning shamelessly as his cock ravishes your pussy by hitting all the right places, heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. the pleasure runs through your veins like electricity, and you feel high off the feeling of someone so big and strong using you like you were his fleshlight - to relieve his rut.

you can barely breathe from the way he pounds you, relentlessly pushing you to the limit, tears forming in your eyes and high pitched moans coming from your throat.

"ohh-! sukuna... oh, please please please..." you plead, almost sobbing.

he responds by leaning down to lather his tongue against your scent glands, sucking on them and rest of the skin on your neck. you shudder and let out another set of whimpers - and sukuna's fangs feel antsy, wanting to sink them into your flesh.

sukuna aims for the sweetness from your breasts, to distract himself. you cry out as he roughly latches onto your nipple and begins to suck as he squeezes your soft flesh. his cock feels like it's about to burst.

when he stimulates your nipples a certain way and his tip grazes your g-spot at the same time, you're hit with an orgasm that makes you squeal and has your cunt fluttering uncontrollably.

his dick gives in to the sudden milkings of your pussy and sukuna pushes his hips to settle himself into you as deep as he can - giving a choked off groan from the sudden climax as his cock swells up inside of you, anchoring itself.

the knowledge of him knotting you doesn't seem to matter as you enjoy the feeling of the warm gush of his cum pouring into your womb, his balls clenching with every rope that spurts out, messily coating your walls with white.

sukuna pants so heavily above you, abs flexing as he continues to orgasm in your warm cunt that still has a dull pulse from your previous climax. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a soft growl, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

your breathing relaxes as you lay still on the couch while sukuna weighs you down and breeds you properly, consequences be damned. you could try and fight him off, but it's been so long since you've been so sexually satisfied that your logical thinking has turned itself off. all you want to do is enjoy bathing in the pheromones of your alpha and let the heaviness of his large body drape over yours as he pumps you full of his babies.

sukuna is usually very careful about who he's around when he's in a rut - and he's always made sure either he or his partner had some sort of protection on before doing anything. he wouldn't want to go around having kids with the wrong people. it's hard to say whether you're wrong or right for him - he doesn't know much about you to judge yet...

but you make him feel so right.

and he's still fighting off the urge to mark you to make you officially his, with drool beginning to run down his chin. his fangs are making it unbearable; he needs to bite something right now.

"you look restless..." you tell him, getting him to tear his gaze away from your neck, to your face instead.

you pull him in for a messy kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he feels the way you brush over his fangs, paying extra attention to them as you make out with him, and it makes him groan. you must have done this with someone else before. sukuna nips at your tongue and lower lip, doing his best not to break skin - trying to relieve himself of the urge to bite.

the swell of his knot is gradually subsiding, but you know that the night is far from over.

"which way to your bedroom?" sukuna asks after breaking away from your kiss, breathlessly.

"farthest down the corridor, past the kitchen.." you respond, feeling a little needy after he abruptly stopped the kiss like that.

"hold onto me."

he lifts you up easily with his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders. the display of strength makes your heartbeat quicken.

when you're laid upon the soft mattress of your bed, his lips come crashing down again - while his hips begin to give shallow thrusts, cock still hard and throbbing. sukuna kisses you like he's a man starved, and you feel as though he might actually swallow you up at this rate.

the strong grip on your hips tighten as his pace gets rougher. you have to break away to gasp and moan. every time he jostles your body, you feel his previous heavy load sloshing inside you, and it's getting too much. sukuna doesn't look like he's even entirely here, hips moving mindlessly and drool dripping down his chin - it's a terrifyingly arousing sight.

he tries to come down and kiss you again, but you have to push his face away - you're so out of breath that you're afraid you might pass out if he does that again. it's overwhelming, how his thick cock bullies itself against your walls over and over again.

sukuna doesn't seem too pleased that you're pushing him away; he holds you tighter and he adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper. you mewl loudly, but keep your hand weakly against his face - he doesn't force it away, but lets his tongue droop out, caressing your fingers with it. you feel him bite and suck on your hand as his sharp thrusts produce small bulges in your stomach.

you witness his eyes dilating again, and you swear you see hearts in them this time, your fingers still in his mouth.

his dick feels so, so good in your pussy. your intoxicating smell now surrounds him after coming into your bedroom, and it's driving him insane. he grunts above you, balls feeling heavy, dick pulsing as his tip finds its way knocking on your cervix. there's a thick ring of cream foaming on the base of his cock now, a mixed concoction of both his cum and your slick.

his thrusting gets sloppy and his hips stutter, meaning that he's going to orgasm again. sukuna's eyes roll back, as he messily "kisses" your hand, pushing himself balls deep into you at the final moment.

you arch your back at the sensation of his knot swelling up once again, cumming at this moment. sukuna almost topples over from the tightness, as the walls of your cunt flutter around his knot, effectively squeezing everything out of him.

"f-fu-uuck..." he drones, his voice dragging the curse word out.

you feel him dumping every drop into your poor womb, emptying his balls. you're afraid that you'll get addicted to this "full" feeling, the warmth of his seed filling you up, the way your insides can feel his cock twitch violently with every thick string of cum he shoots out. you never imagined being held down and inseminated would feel this good.

sukuna's eyes are half-lidded, pleasure continuing to run up and down his spine. he pins your wrist down against the bed suddenly, and latches his mouth to one of your breasts - beginning to suck immediately, like he's trying to rehydrate himself with your milk. you shudder. it seems as though he's doing nothing but take, take, and take from your body... not that you'll stop him from doing so.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, catching your breath, slightly trembling each time he sucks a little too hard. shortly after he is seemingly content, he completely collapses his body over yours, face all up in your breasts, purring while his knot still sits inside of you.

you sense that it's only the beginning of a long, long night.

once the sun has rolled into the sky, you finally remember the fact that the weekdays haven't finished yet - and that you're supposed to be getting ready for work right now.

problem is, there's a certain someone clinging to your whole body from behind, still purring against the nape of your neck with a hand lazily groping the flesh of your tit. you can feel his fluffy tail curling around yours, possessively. you're sleepy, and his stupid purring keeps coaxing you to take a nap. he's a lot more docile and softhearted than you imagined. you supposed he'd be out of your house by now.

you reach out and feel around to grab your phone, to give your workplace a call to take the day off. while you're on the phone, sukuna places soft kisses down your back. you hope your boss can't hear the excessive vibration in the background. once you're done with that, you shove your phone under your pillow.

"i need a nap... you can use my shower, or go home, whichever you prefer," you tell him sleepily, shutting your eyes.

"is sleeping next to you also an option?" he asks from behind you, snuggling up closer.

"mm," you reply mindlessly, already dozing off. he slips his arm under your head. admittedly, his arm pillow does feel comfortable.

when you next wake up in a few hours time, you don't know what to feel when you notice that he's still next to you in bed.

"finally awake?"

"yeah... i'm surprised you haven't left," you mumble, following that with a yawn.

"i'm surprised you're not chasing me out," he shoots back.

"what would be the point? i'll see you again the moment i step outside the house."

"i bet you love that. being able to see me all the time," sukuna teases, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.

"ugh, think what you will," you roll your eyes, trying not to be flustered.

you suddenly realise how thirsty and hungry you are.

"i'm starving... i don't remember what's in the fridge," you mumble to yourself.

"hop in the shower with me and i'll take care of all your meals today," he offers, smirking.

you don't really trust his intentions - especially something as intimate as showering together - but you are famished, and you don't think you will be bothered to cook at all today.

"what meals are we thinking?" you ask, curious.

"hm. well, how about steak?"

"... is that a threat?"

sukuna bursts into laughter.

he informs you that the salt he had originally wanted from you was supposed to be for the steak he was cooking last night. who knew that he'd be having a different kind of steak that evening? you look unamused as he makes the joke between chuckles.

unsurprisingly, you do end up in the shower with him, and again, unsurprisingly, he does pay extra attention to soaping up your tits in particular, and making out with you a little here and there. but as promised, you are rewarded with possibly the best meals you've ever had since you moved to this neighbourhood.

after a bit of conversation, turns out the man is a freelance chef, which is something you would've never guessed. from first glance, he seemed like he could've been part of some gang or a shady underground business.

when you sheepishly apologise for misjudging him based on his looks, sukuna laughs once again, and tells you that he'll forgive you if you let him continue to "help you out" from here onwards...

the rest is in dot points bc im lazy!

originally, i had wanted to make this a bit more toxic but i turned it more wholesome bc i felt like ive already posted toxic stuff before this so haha...

btw you do a few pregnancy checks while sukuna is still there after that night, and it turns out negative. it's a big sigh of relief for you and while it should be the case for sukuna too, since he's never really liked the idea of having kids, for some reason there's the tiniest twinge of disappointment...

anyway - after this, their relationship turns into a weird mix between friends with benefits and ?lovers, semi slow burn

often crashing in each others beds and sharing meals, but also having periods where you won't see one another for a week or so when life gets busy

thing is, you always try and tell yourself that you'll only use him to relieve the swell in your breasts, but it's never the case. things always go out of control and you end up bouncing on his cock without thinking of the consequences.

and he can't stop himself from teasing you everytime, those tits of yours could kill a man, he swears. sukuna gets extremely touchy with them, grazing his fingertips over your nipples, groping you with your shirt still on like a lewd old man, life just feels better when he has your tit in his mouth or hands. it hardly feels like he's actually bullying you when he gets hard like a mf while doing it.

and there are moments where he blurs the line between FWB and becoming something a little more, like when he scents you before you leave his place. "...why're you scenting me?" "why not?"

there is an incident that happens in your house one time, where a huge water leak had happened while you were away at work, drenching the floorboards and things requiring a lot of fixing. you had nowhere else to stay that wasn't either a motel or some cheap sauna so sukuna offered you to sleep at his place for the time being.

it really made things between you two feel a lot more intimate and romantic, a lot of tension, especially when sleeping together without the sex and doing all the chores. both of you felt a little empty when the house maintenance was all done and you had to go back to your own place.

"but there's nowhere for you to sleep except for my bed. i'm not bothered to clean out any of the spare rooms and i don't suppose you want to sleep on the sofa for weeks straight?"

a sly method of getting you to sleep next to him.

also, this man is quite loaded with money. freelance chef popular in demand, but he only takes up jobs that he feels like doing. sometimes he'll leave his house empty for longer times because he's busy, which makes you quite lonely and confused, since he doesn't really explain to you where he's going and why a lot of the time.

when he eventually is back again, he is met with you, holding the scent of some other alpha. he finds himself feeling incredibly upset and possessive, even though he's always deemed relationships to be superficial in his life, because it limits his freedom. but he just feels so deeply unhappy about it that he ends up arguing with you

he knows it shouldn't be something he is entitled to feel angry about when he's not even properly committed to you but it's not like he's ever mingled with other omegas ever since he's met you? it just felt so unfair to him in the moment.

shortly after the argument, you end up confessing you didn't even do anything with the alpha anyway, just a boring date and one quick hug. and sukuna also explains that it was his fault in the first place, leaving and coming back without saying anything. turns out that he sometimes works as a chef in places like hotels and when he's preparing food for companies or people who live a distance away, he just spends the nights somewhere nearby for convenience.

the tension is high after both of you are finished clearing things up, and it eventually leads to sex again. he wants to get rid of that scent ASAP, whether it was from just a hug or not, he needs it GONE. and this time, he properly marks you, sinking his fangs into your scent glands like he's always ached to do.

the night ends with you two officially becoming a couple, finally haha, happy days

the end

Masterlist

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Recount Your Kids, Batman

[A loose continuation to this post]

Talia doesn't visit the Wayne manor. At least not regularly nor officially. All the batkids and Batman know she comes sometimes, just to check up on Damian and maybe bother Bruce from time to time, but this is the first time she has ever shown up to a dinner.

And, as they all take their seats, she gives Damian a long curios glance. Then, she looks to Bruce.

"Is that everyone?" She asks, easy and lighthearted. One might think she is simply not acquainted with the number of Wayne children or that she is teasing Bruce on the sheer amount of them. But Damian is looking down to his plate, and Tim knows for sure Talia keeps up with Wayne's head count, and Dick is fairly certain Talia would never tease Bruce, at least not so subtly.

It could have been some sort of a hint at Jason. If he was not here, that is. But he is, for once, so this is really all the family at one table.

"Yes?" Dick tries, looking around the table just to make sure. Steph and Babs are not here today, but that's definitely not what Talia could have meant. Bruce also looks just a little confused, which is a nice change of pace since he looked guarded and on edge from the very moment Talia showed up.

The woman hums, her eyes studying Damian. The youngest bat keeps his gaze down on his empty plate. No one really understands what's going on, but they all feel like there's something important and heavy hanging in the air.

Then, Talia stands up and turns to Alfred, "We will be dining later. It has come to my attention that kids are a lot more secretive than I thought," she explains cryptically and smiles at Bruce, "Beloved, will you come with me to the training grounds? I have something to show you."

Bruce doesn't move for a long moment, and Talia's smile becomes almost gentle, "It's about your son."

At least that makes the man move.

When they get down to the Cave - since Talia insisted this was not a matter that could be resolved in the manor's training room - it's not only her, Bruce, and the little bat there, of course. The whole family was way too intrigued, and some were even alarmed.

The most alarming part, though, was the fact that Damian had been uncharacteristically quiet on their way down. Yet, when Dick looked to Cass, she just shook her head slightly. The boy was not worried. To Cass, he looked almost resigned, if a bit displeased.

"Your sword, Damian," Talia commands, and the boy presses his lips into a thin line.

"This is not necessary, Mother."

"It is," the woman looks amused, but there's an underlying layer of concern to her tone.

"...Yes, Mother," Damian nods his head on what feels like surrender and takes his katana. Not the training one, the real blade. Bruce makes a soft, alarmed grunt, but Talia waves him off.

"Not to worry, Beloved. I will not harm our brethren."

She doesn't take a stance, nor does she pick out a weapon, simply lunges for Damian as soon as they are both on the mats. Two daggers seem to appear in her hands out of nothing, and, contrary to her words, her aim is towards Damian's neck. The boy blocks, jumps away, and blocks another attack.

Tim steps closer, "You can't just-"

"Step away, Drake," It's the first time Damian has spoken to them since they've sat down for dinner. His voice is tense, but not derisive. If anything, it sounds a bit tired.

Talia lunges for him again, faster, meaner. Metal clings against metal.

"You understand this can not keep going, my child," she tells the boy, startlingly gentle on the contrary to her definitely dangerous strikes.

Damian doesn't answer.

The rest of Batfam are forced to simply watch the encounter: Damian is mostly on defense as Talia goes for him, harder and harder with every hit. Until, without any warning, the woman strikes for Damian's arm, making him drop his katana, and-

A few things happen at once.

Talia lunges for Damian's throat. Bruce jumps onto the mats so fast that he almost trips. Tim yelps.

But Talia's blade doesn't strike.

A figure of another child, eerily similar to Damian and wearing the League of Assassins uniform, is standing in front of the littlest bat, two crystal clear blades in his hands, blocking the dagger.

Bruce halts midstep. The rest of the family holds their breath.

But Talia simply smiles and drops her daggers, backing away and looking at the boy between her and Damian with a fond gaze.

"Danyal," she greets, and the boy huffs, lowering his weapons. He doesn't drop them - they simply dissipate in the air, turning into tiny snowflakes.

"Mother," he greets back begrudgingly, and his voice is the exact replica of Damian's. A clone? No, because Damian reacts to him nothing like he had to the clones, simply clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes.

"You could have simply asked, Mother," he comments, taking a step forward and stading near the other boy. Danyal. When standing side by side, they look nearly identical - same facial features, same posture, same hair, even if Damian's is a little more tame.

But Danyal's eyes are just a few hues off. Still green but lighter than Damian's.

"I assumed if you have spent years living here and never bothered to mention your brother, I would need a little more than asking, my love," Talia doesn't laugh, but it sounds like she wants to. Both boys roll their eyes, perfectly in sync.

Hold the fuck up, brother?

"Huh. I thought you died," Jason mentions offhandedly, and the whole family whips their heads to him. Yet, before any of them speak, it's Danyal who answers.

"I mean, I did? Kinda?" He waves his hand in the air and shrugs, and he acts so unlike Damian while also simultaneously having his face, that it makes Tim shiver a little.

"You-" Bruce starts, seeming to finally find his voice, but the boy cuts him off.

"I'm not actually yours," he snorts at Bruce's facial expression, "Yeah, I know I look like I am. Blame the ghost sewers, Chronos, and my stupid ass for making decisions while not being fully awake."

There is so much to unpack in that sentence that no one has the barest of ideas on where to start.

Damian curves his lips down in a sneer.

"The longer you stay there staring, the colder the dinner will be when we return," he reminds them, and Danyal suddenly perks up.

"Dinner? Can I join? It's been ages since I've had anything home cooked," he smiles, like there's some kind of an inside joke in that sentence. Damian rolls his eyes.

"The food doesn't come alive in this household, Danyal."

"Bummer," the boy looks a bit disappointed, but not too much. "And it's Danny, for the thousandth time."

Talia picks up her daggers, hiding them somewhere in her clothes in an unnoticeable motion. Then, she gives Bruce a small, if a bit sly, smile.

"You can not call it 'family dinner' if not all your family is there."