#if you're willing to look past the whole

[snail-scholar]

i think ibara should date anzu mcprotagonistlady. i think it would be funny.

[lymtw]

Roommate!Toji

Roommate!Toji who notices that you aren't exactly a ray of sunshine when you first move in, but completely understands the reasoning behind it once you explain your situation. You had to run away from your cheating ex boyfriend, because he started acting crazy when you confronted him and broke up with him all in one go.

Roommate!Toji who, despite rarely seeing you, developed the fattest crush on you and was torn between not wanting to act like a kid in elementary school about it, but also not being extremely assertive, because he thought it might turn you off.

Roommate!Toji who doesn't get to act either way around you, because you promised him that you would make yourself as unnoticeable as possible when you're home, and that you wouldn't be an issue for him, at all. You rarely leave your room when you're home, and when you see that he's in a room you need something from, you spin on your heel and immediately retreat, not coming back out for at least half an hour to ensure that he's not there anymore.

Roommate!Toji who hates that you're actually keeping your word about this. It really is like he's still living alone, until you briefly appear when you are either heading out or getting home. It's always a quiet "hi" or "goodnight" and if he's lucky, it's, "hey, Toji" and "goodnight, Toji". Sometimes, he only gets a glance from you as you quickly stride past him to get to your room. Those nights usually come with the sounds of sniffling and stuttered deep breaths, that make Toji furrow his eyebrows through a mixture of sentiments, when he hears them outside your door.

Roommate!Toji who sees you leave your room one night, all dolled up and wearing a dangerously seductive perfume he has never smelled on you before. His posture straightens like that of an obedient dog with a treat dangling in its face, and he almost stands up to follow you to the door, but he wills himself to stay down and asks the questions that are on his mind, before you leave.

Roommate!Toji who is in awe when he hears a consistent flow of your voice answering his questions about your plans, rather than just the usual quick greeting and goodnight. It's the longest you have spoken to him since you moved in and it's the sound equivalent of drizzling honey—sweet, smooth, and pleasant. With an awkward, borderline hypnotized nod, he stops being a distracting chatterbox and lets you go with a final "Well... have fun."

Roommate!Toji who does not miss another opportunity to know what is still bringing you all this misery, when you come back looking like you had the opposite of fun. As you're about to wordlessly stroll past him, to go to your room, he stops you with a "hey" and grabs a beer from his pack, extending it towards you while patting the spot on the couch next to him. It's a whole different type of relief when you inch closer, hesitantly, but take the drink and sit where he directed you to sit.

Roommate!Toji who finds the way you start out acting timidly towards him, to be adorable. You sat where he wanted you to sit, out of politeness, but you crossed your legs and arms so that you didn't accidentally touch him. That all goes out the window when your politeness does not allow you to refuse his offering of more drinks. You open up and you relax your limbs and it's as if you don't even realize—or maybe you don't care, anymore—that your shoulder and your knee is right against his.

Roommate!Toji who listens to you ramble on, tipsily, about how your ex has been finding all kinds of ways to get in contact with you, going to the extent of making new social accounts and getting new phone numbers every time he breaks character and reveals that it's him. You look bothered as you retell the amount of times your ex has told you he's sorry and that he wants you back.

Roommate!Toji who realizes you're crying when he catches the waver in your voice as you tell him that the situation is making you miserable and that you don't know what to do, anymore. It's one of the saddest things he's ever seen. Your body is trembling from your attempt to keep your emotions contained, your lips are quivering, and you're looking down at your lap, as if you're embarrassed about being upset.

Roommate!Toji who does not hesitate to pull you in for a tight hug when you hide your face with your hands. He does not mind that you're soaking his shoulder with your tears. He comforts you by caressing the back of your head and drawing circles on your back with his palm. For a brief moment, his nose has full access to the intoxicating scent you're doused in and god, it's beautiful. So fitting for you.

Roommate!Toji who wipes your cheeks with his thumbs and keeps them dry when your tears keep flowing as you recount your history with your ex and how you found out he was cheating on you. You're breaking Toji's heart, but he's not going to stop you. With how passionately and in depth you're describing it all, it really seems like he's the first to have listened to you about the subject.

Roommate!Toji whose heart drops when you tell him that if your ex finds you, you're going to have to move, again. Immediately, he's throwing out solutions. "We can get the police involved—file a restraining order..." "Got a couple pocket knives you can have..." "I can wait for you to get off work, outside your building..."

Roommate!Toji who hasn't killed anyone in years, but knows that if thrown into a situation that required him to do so, his abilities would not be rusted. All those innocent suggestions he blurted out, were merely to provide some comfort for you and to help you begin to understand that he can help you if you tell him things. Only Toji knows that if the idiot shows up looking for you, he's getting picked off without a warning.

Roommate!Toji whose heart rate increases when you smile at him with your tired, now, unintentionally sad-looking eyes, and when you wrap your arms around him this time, he finds he doesn't want to let go of you. You smell so good and you're so warm against him. He's in a daze, with this mixture of alcohol and you.

Roommate!Toji who takes this intimate moment as an opportunity to kiss you. His lips brush your shut, unmoving ones, for a solid five seconds. Clearly, you're in shock, so your lack of reciprocation during those five seconds doesn't deter him. You caught up and melted into the affection once the surprise wore off.

Roommate!Toji who knows that despite the drinks he's had, he won't be able to forget the sounds you made when he kissed up your neck. So sweet and honeyed, that it makes his stomach do flips. He could stay there all night, just leaving wet kisses all over your neck, if it means he gets to hear you like this the entire time.

Roommate!Toji who gets his own moment of shock when you lie back on the couch and start pulling up your shirt, revealing your stomach and the bottom of your pretty bra. He doesn't touch you, regardless of how much his mouth is watering and how he's itching to feel your skin beneath his hands. He appreciates the sight and the monster in his pants definitely came to life, but this is a delicate situation. Visual cues are not enough to go off of.

Roommate!Toji who asks many times for your consent, even as you're exposing more of yourself to him and pawing at his thighs. You've both had a few drinks, and though your actions all point to you wanting to do more with him, your word is everything and more. You hear "Is this okay?" "Am I making you uncomfortable?" "Are you sure?" He only continues when every answer you give to his questions is one that corresponds with feeling safe and comfortable enough to go on.

Roommate!Toji who didn't fuck you, but made genuine, caring, spirit binding love to you. He held your hands and made sure that you were fine the entire time. Whenever you would start crying and talking about the things you thought you must have been missing in your ex's eyes for things to end up this way, Toji would kiss your tears away and hush you with quiet murmurs of, "he missed out on you, baby..." "No more crying, pretty girl. He's not worth it..." "You're perfect..." All as he rocked both of you on the couch, luring mutual, gentle pleasure, for what felt like hours.

Roommate!Toji who smothers you with soft kisses when both of you finish for the nth time. He can tell you're on the brink of falling asleep, so he quickly runs to the bathroom to grab a damp towel and comes back to clean you up a little. Once he feels you're as tidy as he can get you with a simple towel, he gets dressed and carries you to your bed. The easy part was finding some underwear and pajamas for you to wear, the not so easy part was getting the clothes on you. You were out of commission, sleeping, already, while Toji was lifting and moving your limbs, trying to get your clothes on.

Roommate!Toji who eventually gets it done and turns you onto your side. The final kiss of the night is placed on your forehead, before he leaves your room.

Roommate!Toji doesn't see or hear from you for two weeks, after that night.

Roommate!Toji thinks maybe he's just not catching you at the right times. He's been following the same schedule he made in his mind, but it seems like you aren't, anymore. When he wakes up to have his morning coffee, he doesn't see you on your way out or catch a gust of that lighter mist you normally wear, and when he's on the couch later at night, skimming the channels for whatever grabs his attention, he doesn't hear your key turning the lock, signaling that you're home, before he goes to bed.

Roommate!Toji who's driving himself crazy with all the overthinking. He hasn't seen you leave or come home for days. For all he knows, you haven't even been staying in the same house. He's unknowingly pacing around the living room, racking his brain to think of what could possibly have happened. He was inviting, he listened to you and comforted you. He was a gentleman and he treated you with the delicacy of someone who's in love. Those feelings shouldn't have been lured out so easily by someone he barely sees—barely knows—but they were, and with you hiding from him, he's left to just suck it up and deal with it.

Roommate!Toji who after a few days of pretending to be stoic and careless about you not being around, feels like a loser as he waits for you to come home one night, like some loyal dog. He plans to stay up until he sees you, again, even if you don't come home until four, five, or six in the morning. He's tired of this heavy feeling in his chest that he shouldn't be feeling at all. He knows he did nothing wrong, but, clearly, there are things to talk about if something scared you off.

Roommate!Toji who hears the familiar sound of the only other key to the house, turning the lock, at two forty-five in the morning. As soon as he gets a look at your tired, pretty face, his blood starts boiling. When you simply say "goodnight" and try to walk away like you normally do, he stops you with a hand tightly wrapped around your wrist. Almost instantly, he becomes aware of how scary the restraining gesture must be to you and lets go.

Roommate!Toji notices the extra tiredness on your face. Not just the 'almost three in the morning' tiredness, but the 'haven't gotten good sleep in a while' tiredness, as well. The bags under your eyes are prominent and your eyes are lidded, like you're fighting to keep them open. He wonders if you're really losing so much sleep just to avoid him.

Roommate!Toji who doesn't stay wondering and asks you every single question he's had about you going around him these past two weeks. He doesn't accept your quick responses and variations of simply being busy. How did you suddenly get so busy once you saw each other naked? It's a pretty big coincidence.

Roommate!Toji who doesn't have the heart to talk to you in a stern manner to express the awful feelings he's had for the last couple weeks. Not when you look so pitifully exhausted, like you're about to drop any second. He lets you go, with the condition being that the conversation will be picked up again the next day. He sees the hesitance on your face, like it's something you don't want to pick up, again, but you agree, anyway, and head off to your room.

Roommate!Toji stays up in bed for a little while longer, wondering about many things regarding you. Will you keep your word and follow through with the conversation in the morning, or will you be gone before he wakes up, again? What made things weird? Why did you make yourself completely invisible as opposed to keeping things the way they were before?

Roommate!Toji whose mind begins to wander when he starts thinking of your pretty face. Even with all the fatigue that currently litters your features, you're gorgeous and flashbacks of that night come to mind. The gloominess on your face when you came home from your time out, the sadness that showed itself as you let him in on a difficult part of your life, and then the hopeful look on your face when he offered to help you. It was the equivalent of a beautiful sunrise, and he would, undoubtedly, kiss you, again, if he were given a chance to redo that moment.

Roommate!Toji who feels pathetic when the front of his boxer briefs start feeling tighter, just at the thought of your face. Though, your expressions were all pretty, that night, they weren't all innocent. He can vividly picture your orgasm face and the sounds that came with it. It's enough for him to impatiently kick off his boxers and use all those images and thoughts of you to alleviate the pressure he's feeling below.

Roommate!Toji whose shame only comes from the fact that he's doing this at three-something in the morning, while you're two rooms down the hall, hopefully, recovering from your lack of sleep. His shame quickly loses its prominence when all the thoughts of you and the stroking motions of his hand cloud his mind. You were the softest, most delicate thing, and every touch, kiss, and more, called for the sweetest croons from you. It truly was a reward whenever his name made it past your lips, in that honeyed voice he can't get enough of. He got to locate the source of that perfume on your skin that makes him feral and he drowned in the loudness of its ambrosial notes.

Roommate!Toji who is unaware of how loud he's being. He thinks he's doing a good job of stifling his sounds, but it's all futile when he reaches his peak and releases all the uncontrolled stuttered breaths and groans. Deep voiced expletives are the only words he can mutter through the euphoric feeling, because your name can't be thrown into his perverted activity. At least not when you're home. Once he blinks open his eyes, and comes down from his post-orgasm haze, he cleans himself up with his boxers and goes to sleep butt naked. He's too tired to get up and change, and it would be pointless since he's going to shower when he gets up, anyway.

Roommate!Toji who leaves his room a few hours later in the morning—after showering, of course—and is surprised to see you sitting at the table on your phone. You look like you're ready to head out for the day, but you're there, as promised, with a steaming mug of coffee in front of you. He finds it funny how long it takes for you to notice he's standing there, but when you do see him, you greet him as you normally do, and this time, you stay. He accepts your offering of coffee and sits in the chair next to you, ready to dive into this possibly awkward conversation.

Roommate!Toji who does not expect you to start out by apologizing, profusely, saying you didn't mean to make it seem like he did something wrong and that you didn't know how to go about seeing him the next day, after everything. He hears you out as you reassure him that your consent for that night stands and that you were fine the morning after. You looked nervous the entire time, like you were expecting him to lash out on you for what you chose to do, instead of just talking to him.

Roommate!Toji takes his part in reassuring you as well. He lets you know that he's not upset with you, anymore, and that when he was, it was out of concern for the amount of time that had gone by without a single notice of you being okay after that night. He reminds you that you have his number, and that anything you don't feel comfortable telling him in person, you could always tell him through text or on the phone, yet, you didn't do either one of those things, and that only further added to his worry of having possibly wronged you in some way.

Roommate!Toji who gets an in depth explanation for why you avoided him, and it's unfortunately rooted to the man who hurt you, emotionally and mentally. You explain that you don't fear commitment, but it's hard to trust people enough to get close. You tell him that he's the first to have seen you in such a vulnerable state since your ex and it was scary to know that you offered such an intimate part of yourself to someone who possibly saw it as just something to simply derive pleasure from. He understood when you elaborated and said that you don't know him well enough and you don't know his intentions, so you figured it was best to keep your distance, before you put yourself into a situation that would leave you feeling like you're being used.

Roommate!Toji who takes what you said into consideration, but also takes advantage of how jittery he feels after finishing his coffee and just sitting there, to admit that he likes you and that he would like to get to know you. His leg is bouncing under the table, but he's definitely not nervous... It's just the caffeine and its weird effect.

Roommate!Toji who doesn't feel the slightest bit disappointed when you tell him that you should get to know each other as friends, first. It kind of stings, considering how much he thinks about you, and he definitely can't pretend like he hasn't seen the body under your clothes, but he's determined to prove that he likes you. If that means more nights spent comforting you when the self doubt starts gnawing at you, again, and assuring you countless times that nothing will ever threaten your safety, then so be it.

[happy74827]

A Smile From Hell

[Homelander x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite the amount of unpredictability The Homelander has, he still catches you off guard with something as small as a smile.

WC: 3576

Category: Angst, Supe!Reader {TW — Homelander for obvi reasons}

In honor of Season 4’s weekly releases, this one is for the Antony Starr girlies (and you @summerrivera777777)

『••✎••』

John fucking terrified you.

He terrified everyone, really.

He had the power to level an entire city block with a glance. He was strong enough to crush a man's skull with one hand and fast enough to catch a bullet. He was an unstoppable force of nature. He was The Homelander, and he was a threat to anyone who stood in his way.

But, the thing was...

You knew everything about him. Everything.

And he absolutely despised that, but there was nothing he could do to change it. You had seen him at his most vulnerable and pathetic. You had seen his humanity, it’s amazing he still has any after the way Vought has abused him, and you had seen his inhumanity.

Jessica, or Sister Sage, had confronted you on several occasions, trying to get you to tell her your secrets. She wanted the upper hand on her arch nemesis, the only one in the world who was a threat to her. It was her mission to end the reign of the superhero she hated most, and she was willing to do anything for it.

You could see right through her, and you didn’t need magnificent amounts of intelligence to do so. You could see the fear in her eyes. You could see the doubt in her face, hear the strain in her voice, feel her uneasiness when she was near him.

John knew it, too. He just simply chose to ignore it. He had grown used to being the scariest man in the room. It’s been that way his whole life, and it seemed it was going to stay that way.

But, despite all that fear, she came to you for answers. Again.

And this time, the question was a simple one. It was so simple, yet completely understandably complicated.

How are you allowed to live?

That was a question that stumped you. It took you a long time to grasp the meaning of it, the specific answer she was looking for.

After a few clarifications, you finally understood what she meant.

She wanted to know why John allowed you to live. She wanted to know why he hadn’t killed you. She wanted to understand why you were the only person alive after calling him by his name.

Not his stage name, his real name.

For being the most intelligent person on the planet, you’d think that she’d be able to understand it. I mean, the answer was right there, in front of her face. She didn't need to be a genius to figure it out; all she needed was a little more insight.

A little bit of understanding.

"Respect," you said, your voice soft. Your words were clear, though, and she heard them perfectly.

The confusion on her face was evident, as was her disbelief.

"What?"

"It's respect. Anyone I respect is someone that deserves my respect."

She snorted.

"Right," she said. "Like he could actually respect anything other than himself."

"He's capable of it if that's what you're thinking," you told her. "And this isn’t about him respecting me; it's about me respecting him."

She narrowed her eyes at you, her suspicion rising.

"Why would you respect him?" she questioned. "You're not blind; you know exactly who he is."

Yes, you did. You knew more than most, and compared to The Seven now, you probably knew the most. His actions? Completely unredeemable. He was, in fact, a monster; there was no arguing that. He was a horrible, twisted, monstrous individual; no one would deny it.

His actions weren’t excusable, but he had an explanation. A reason for why he was the way he was.

He wasn’t born a monster; he was turned into one. That… that was the respect part. You respected him because you respected his story. You respected his pain. You respected his anger.

You respected his past; anything after that was on him.

"I don’t like using stage names to those I respect enough, so I call him John. He allows it because he knows I don’t mean it the way others would if they used his name; it doesn't hold the same power with me."

She rolled her eyes at you.

"Same goes for you, Jessica; I have no desire to call you Sister Sage."

Her flinch was barely visible, but you still caught it. Again, what is intelligence if not knowing the chances of a particular outcome?

"I’ve noticed you don’t call Deep or that fire chick by their real names."

You just smiled, leaving her to solve that answer for herself, and it didn’t take long at all. You knew the exact moment she came up with a conclusion. She was quite predictable, in that regard. Maybe you should’ve been the big-brained hero instead.

And now, you really should’ve been because when you turned down the hall, catching wind of the elevator doors opening, you knew he had listened to it all.

But you didn’t say anything, and you really didn’t say anything after a simple glance at him.

He was completely drenched in blood, a look that would terrify even the toughest of men. But not you, oh no, you were very used to that. He’s done a lot worse.

Besides, you were too distracted by the fact that the blood wasn't his. Too distracted by noticing how this time was different. He was smiling, but it wasn’t his usual cruel smile. This time, it was genuinely happy.

Relief, almost.

It reminded you of the night you two bonded. No, not that type of bond. The bond that told you both that you weren’t alone.

He had a friend, but he wasn’t really your friend. You don’t believe you could ever consider him one. Not really, not with the things he has done.

But, still, you were the closest thing he had to a friend. You were the closest he had to an equal, a person he could relate to. Jessica carried the same intelligence (obviously a lot more), but the similarities between the two of them stopped there.

You had a similar history but different outcomes.

And that reveal between the two of you happened that night. This was way back, even before Starlight joined. Back when The Seven was in its prime.

Stillwell threw a party, something she always loved to do before Teddy became her focus. It was the usual: people in fancy dresses and suits, lots of champagne and liquor.

The difference, however, was the main focal point. Usually, given Vought’s status, all of The Seven members were the main event. Everyone was mandated to wear their hero outfits. It was a great way to advertise and get people to buy more of the products.

The theme this time, however, wasn’t about the group. It wasn’t about any of you. For the first time in a long while, John wasn’t in the spotlight.

Due to this, Stillwell banned everyone from wearing their costumes. No capes, no spandex, no leather, no masks. Just suits and dresses.

It was nice, actually. A little break from the norm. It felt good to go a night without the tight leather on your skin. You were actually surprised at how well it was received.

The rest of the members of the group seemed to be having a wonderful time as well.

Except for one.

He was standing in the corner, glaring at everyone. Madelyn had an entire argument with him about the suit. You weren’t there, but you knew exactly how it went.

His costume was a part of him. It was a symbol. It was a mask. A representation. An embodiment of who he was. Without it, he was a naked target.

Madelyn clearly did not give a single shit. In the end, the argument resulted in the two of them getting into a screaming match, causing him to storm off in a fit of rage.

So, there he was, standing alone, seething at anyone who passed him. Madelyn won; of course, she did, and she didn't even bother trying to apologize. She wasn't sorry.

She was just mad that he refused to listen in the first place.

But, hey, that wasn’t your problem. You were enjoying yourself. The night was going pretty well; the alcohol was flowing nicely, and the music was just right. You were dancing and laughing and having a great time.

But, of course, things weren't always easy for you.

You weren’t expecting it to last long; you weren’t one to have good luck. You knew, deep down, that the night was going to come crashing down on you. You were just waiting for the ball to drop.

The ball dropped the moment you decided to go cheer up the sourpuss.

It was obvious the way his shoulders tensed, and his head tilted ever so slightly. He knew you were approaching. He was aware.

"Don't," he said.

He was clearly angry, and you weren’t smart enough not to push. This is where Jessica’s powers would have benefited you greatly.

You ignored his warning, walking up beside him, mocking his stance.

"You okay?" you asked, your tone soft and light, a hint of playfulness.

His eyes flicked over to you, and the glare he gave was terrifying. His eyes were so intense, and his teeth were clenched. You could see his jaw tensing.

He was a volcano, ready to erupt.

You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

"I'm fine." Humorously enough, it sounded like the opposite.

"Really?"

He turned his head to look at you, his anger increasing by the second.

"Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm choosing to talk to you."

He looked away from you, grumbling, "And why's that?"

"Because you’re ruining the party," you answered. "Miserable face and all."

He rolled his eyes. He actually does this a lot, believe it or not. It's the only expression he has besides anger that isn’t fake.

"And why do you care?"

You shrugged again. "I care about enjoying myself, and I can't do that when you're moping."

He turned his head towards you. He was not amused.

"Go find someone else to entertain yourself with.” He pointed behind him. "I’m sure Deep will be glad to show off his fish facts."

That one caused you to make the same face he had moments ago. The absolute look of disgust on your face was enough to bring a smug grin to his own.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Don't make me throw up, John."

The name.

It was a simple slip-up, nothing more. But, of course, it meant so much more. This was before everything, so it doesn’t seem likely that a slip-up like that wouldn’t result in consequences, but it secretly was a turning point.

He could've killed you.

He could've easily grabbed you and thrown you across the room, and no one would be able to comprehend what had happened until after you were unrecognizable.

He didn't, though.

No, instead, he stared at you, his face blank, and his mind processing. You were nervous, of course. You had no idea what was going on in his head.

After a minute, a look of realization came upon him, and you could see the exact moment the gears started turning.

Then, a simple hum fell from his lips. One said he wasn’t expecting it but was deciding whether to accept it.

Then, after a few seconds, his face relaxed. His jaw was unclenched, his eyes softened, and his eyebrows relaxed.

"Let’s have a chat."

Uh oh. That’s a code red—a sign of danger.

You were so done.

And yet, for some odd reason, you followed him. You don’t know why. It was a stupid move, in your opinion. You should've run while you had the chance. You should’ve listened and just punched fishlips or something.

You didn’t, though.

You followed him, allowed him to fly you somewhere private, and just waited. You waited for your imminent doom. You were going to die; you were sure of it.

But, for some reason, your death never came.

Instead, the two of you landed on the tower’s roof, the cold New York air hitting you hard. He had set you down on your feet and went all the way to the railing.

You stood awkwardly, waiting for him to turn around with those beams in his eyes, but they never came.

He was just looking out into the city, his back turned to you, his hands on the railing.

After a few minutes of silence, he turned his head, looking at you through the corner of his eye.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

Ask what? What was there to ask?

There were plenty of things to ask, actually, and yet you had no idea what the right thing to ask was. Because, again, even here, he was unpredictable and unreadable.

You didn't want to anger him; you knew that for sure. But you were also tired of his mind games. It was a constant battle of wit, and you were sick and tired of being left in the dust.

So, you chose something simple to say. Something easy, yet not so simple to answer.

"Are you going to kill me?"

You wouldn’t be surprised if he turned around with a smile and answered yes.

He didn’t, though. Oh no, he stayed turned, staring into the city, his eyes searching. Searching for what you didn't know.

"No."

Simple and clear.

You didn't respond, and he didn't elaborate. It was silent, and it was cold, and it was a tense moment.

But you didn't leave. You just watched him, watched his movements. The way his shoulders hunched over, his head tilting down, the grips on the railing, the way his hair slowly became unstuck due to the wind.

You always thought his hair looked better when it wasn't slicked back, but this is the first time you've ever seen it that way. It was… it was nice.

Then, his shoulders relaxed, and his head straightened. He didn’t turn around, and he didn’t speak. He just looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes piercing yours.

Even with a few strands of hair on his face, his eyes were so sharp and clear. So blue. So cold.

It felt like they were reaching deep into your soul.

It was terrifying. He was terrifying.

"Do you remember your parents?"

The question took you by surprise. It wasn’t what you were expecting, but then again, this whole encounter was the definition of unexpected.

"Yes. Why?"

His eyes scanned yours as if looking for a lie. Then, he turned back around, leaning on the railing.

"I can't remember mine," he said. "Sometimes I wonder if I even had them."

Oh. Oh. This was huge. This was a big one. You had to search deeply even to find out his actual name. Now, here he was, telling you of his past.

Of all people, he chose to tell you.

You didn’t know how to feel about that.

You were honored, yes. You were excited, definitely. But, most importantly, you were worried. Is this him letting you in? Or is it him preparing you for your demise?

It was an unknown territory, a field of landmines. You knew a lot about his past already, but now he was aware of the fact that you knew. He knows, and yet he is still giving you the information.

Why?

"I mean, it doesn't make sense. Everyone has parents, right? And I couldn't have been born out of nowhere. So, I must have had parents. A mom, a dad, some form of guardians."

His face was scrunched, and his eyebrows were furrowed. You could see the way his brain was working. He was really thinking about it, wondering how the pieces fit together.

He was struggling to make a connection, and he was mad at himself for not having it.

"I'm assuming your childhood wasn't the best," you said. You knew it was a risky move, joking about his past, but so far, he seemed to like the boldness and humor.

And he did, in fact, let out a snort.

"Understatement of the year."

You smiled but quickly stopped. It was a serious conversation, and smiling probably wasn’t the appropriate reaction.

Silence filled the space again, and he was back to thinking. He was trying; he was really trying. But he just couldn't.

It wasn't the fact that his parents were a mystery; he's come to terms with that. It was the fact that he couldn’t remember anything.

All he remembered was the torture, the pain, the experiments… nothing about how he got there. Nothing about the people before the scientists. Nothing about a home. And the fact that they were currently building a fake one for him made him so angry.

It was a mockery—a complete joke.

He felt all of these emotions and yet couldn't express them.

And he was frustrated. He was pissed off and tired and angry and sad and empty and-

"Did you rip off your tie?" Your eyes had caught sight of his bare neck, the black fabric missing.

It was the only way to pull him out of his head, and, to your surprise, it worked. You could see the moment he snapped back to reality, the moment he was pulled away from his mind.

"Yeah," he answered. "It was suffocating me."

You could tell.

His hair became more unkempt due to the wind. The strands of hair on his forehead were getting in the way, and it was getting annoying. Not for you, no, but for him.

For you, it was… humanizing. It made him seem a little less like a god.

He lifted his hand, his fingers gently combing through the locks. It was a struggle, a normal struggle that you've had with your own hair.

Plenty struggle with deviating the locks away from their desired location. You've had your own fair share of moments.

But this was the first time you'd seen him experience it. The first time witnessing him do something so simple and basic.

Such a human thing. It had you wondering what else he was capable of.

He sighed, his hand dropping back to the railing. Again, it is a normal thing to happen. But, it had you smiling, the corners of your mouth curving ever so slightly.

The action did not go unnoticed.

"What?" he asked, not even bothering to turn around.

You shrugged. "I've just never…"

Your mind kept changing images. His hair, his eyes, his shoulders, his jaw, his nose, his ears, his neck, his hand, his lips, his chin, his cheekbones, his eyebrows, his skin…

Everything is listed in your mind, including the little imperfections and details that make him, well, him. This was the first time you saw him anything other than perfect.

The perfect monster he was, the god of all men. The man of the century, the one to take the world by storm. The strongest, the smartest, the best.

The symbol, the image, the mask.

The facade.

This was the first time you saw him as just a person. A human being. Just a regular guy.

"Sometimes I wonder how different life would be if you were…"

Normal.

The word was at the tip of your tongue. You could've said it; you should've said it. It was the truth. It was obvious.

But you couldn't.

He knew where your sentence was going, though. Of course, he did.

"If I was… what?" He still wanted to hear it. He was looking for validation, and he wanted it from you. His eyes were on you, his body turned, but there was this one odd thing.

A smile.

It wasn't his usual one. The one you were used to. The one that made everyone scared and uneasy. No, this was a real smile.

A soft, small one, but still a real smile.

A true smile. As if he knew the words you were going to say, as if he knew your thoughts, and he found them amusing.

You found him amusing.

And just because of that, you didn’t give him the validation.

"It’s fucking freezing out here," You coughed in hopes of successfully changing the subject. "I’m gonna get a jacket."

He was going to argue, but you were already walking off, telling him you’d take the emergency ladder down.

Nothing was spoken about that night. No words were exchanged.

But something had changed. Something had shifted. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but it was something.

So, seeing that genuine smile again in that elevator was a shock.

He had the same face as he did on that roof. It was that smile. That one specific smile.

Capable.

That's what it was.

He was capable.

He was capable of feeling and being human. He was capable of being something other than a monster.

He was capable.

All he said to you when you walked by was a simple goodnight. Something so small, yet so big. This time, those words seemed to have a little more meaning.

So, just to raise his unsettling mood, you winked and said, "Goodnight, John."

Again, a smile.

The smile.

It was hard to continue walking, and it was even harder not to turn around. But you did.

You did it knowing you were going to have a hard time sleeping. Knowing that, no matter what, you weren’t going to forget that smile.

The demon that still had a little bit of humanity in him.

A demon that was capable.

[prael]

A Bargain To Remember

Kinktember Day 13: Car sex

(G)I-DLE Miyeon x male reader smut

words: 4,950 Kinktember Masterlist

"Finally, a face to the name."

You know all about Miyeon, of course. She's the type of girl whose face is plastered on every screen and every street in every corner of the galaxy, a darling of the interplanetary conglomerates. From the spaceports to even the most downtrodden of back-alleys, you can probably find her face on some poster or flyer or some massive digital billboard high above you—those corporate powers that be sure want to squeeze as much out of her as possible.

The surprise is that she knows you.

Of course, it's on those screens, or the ones at home, or the ones in their pockets, that most people become acquainted with a girl like Miyeon. Those glossy eyes, her effervescent smile, her delicate but fierce features, of course, they leave an impression. They sell you dreams, products and promises. That's why you can find her all over the place—but the versions of her you can interact with— ones to purchase and enjoy—are another beast altogether.

"Can I help you, miss?" you feign ignorance of her identity as she takes the chair at the other end of your desk.

"I would like to make a purchase."

"A purchase? From me? What could I possibly offer to someone like you? I sell scrap electronics to junkies and fix the broken implants of low-life thugs. How could that possibly interest you?"

She crosses her legs, and says, "Don't play with me. I have seen your work, quite the artist you are, though I wouldn't say you exactly have my mannerisms down. The curve of my mouth, the cadence of my voice—not exactly up to par with the real deal. But as fakes go, you do well with what you have."

You scratch at the back of your head and then catch a bead of sweat forming at your temple, "Think you have the wrong guy, miss. You're talking AI and Virts here. Not my thing, definitely not my forte."

She's quiet as you look around at anything but her face. The grey concrete walls and steel beam of the roof are awfully fascinating suddenly, and then the holos playing on loop above the screens of your makeshift booth—really anything than to have to admit that your life's work consists of making and selling forgeries of people like her. She knows why she's here—the least you could do is be brave and admit to your craft.

"I tried your work myself. Quite the experience. Can't say I ever planned on fucking myself—but well, there's a first time for everything I guess."

There's enough power across your desk to not only shut you down and make it so the only tech you would ever touch again is a pair of electrified cuffs at best, and at worst she could have you put down and silently disposed.

Miyeon continues, "As I say, it wasn't entirely accurate, I'm not actually that loud or aggressive, for the record. But it was fun, so if you're thinking I'm about to expose you, not the case—I'm actually here to invest in your skill. Your art is fun, and I dare say your tastes in women, are spot on."

You let out a small nervous laugh and then say, "I don't usually take requests."

Her pink-painted lips, the gloss shimmering slightly from the bright fluorescent overhead light, form into a delicate, mischievous grin. "I'm willing to make you an offer, one you won't refuse. You get me what I want, and I'll license your work. Think about it. An official Miyeon VirtueX™, think of how lucrative an asset that could be. The whole galaxy's lining up to get a taste—and you would be the only real supply."

You lean forward in your chair to peer at her and ask, "Let's say I was who you think I am, what is it that you want from me?"

"What I want from you," she pauses and tilts her head, her eyes glance across your features briefly and her tongue traces the edges of her teeth. "Is to show me the past." She places a drive on the desk—old-tech, the kind that would never run on any kind of systems that are sold today. "You can get this working, right?"

"Is that a government stamp?" You point to the symbol on the drive. "I plug that in and I'll have execution squads here in under a minute."

"It's all above board. Officially disposed and untracked. I just need to live it, once." Her voice is quiet and pensive.

"Alright. Deal. But those two lumps of metal you call bodyguards have to stay out there, and you're coming through to my studio. If I'm gonna help, you have to play by my rules."

She flashes you a winning smile. You thought you had her pegged down but all this has proved you wrong—there was more to Miyeon than the flashy clothes and the blinding lights, a lot more. And your curiosity is getting the better of you now.

"You know, you're only the third person to ever step in here," you open up the secret passage into the back room, and gesture for Miyeon to step in.

You close the door behind you both and feel the heavy metal slide lock with a hiss.

"The first was me, naturally, and the second left it in a body bag a few years ago."

She doesn't flinch, just brushes past you and sits on the edge of your desk, running a finger along the steel as if surveying the conditions of your equipment. "Hard to imagine you make the stuff you do from a place like this," she says.

"The drive," you say as you hold out a hand.

She passes it over and you examine the shape and material. Most drives these days are designed to interface with neural implant ports or organic docks directly—this is true vintage work. It might have been what some would have called groundbreaking tech a hundred or so years ago. You hook the little device up to your primary work machine and start running tests.

She slides off the table, her hands resting on your shoulders. She bends down, her body pressed into yours as she murmurs near your ear. "How is it?"

"A mess. But a fixable mess. Should have something you can use soon enough."

Miyeon breathes gently in your ear before placing a hand on your arm, "Please, whatever you do, do not look at the contents. It's personal, just let me view it, and live it, one last time. Then you can lock it away again for all eternity and erase the copy from your server. And then you get exactly what you want from me."

You breathe in deeply, a mixture of her perfume and the thick oily scent of hot electronics flooding your brain. "Whatever, it's none of my business anyway. Now take a seat will you." You nod to the chair on the other side of the room.

The drive whirrs softly and a data scan runs to gather all the fragmented encryptions left behind on the device. Miyeon lies flat back on your chair and waits for you to connect her—she holds out her forearm expectantly.

"Come on then," she smiles sweetly and pulls a loose curl behind her ear.

You clamp your eyes tight and inhale. "Here goes nothing." You run the system at the push of a button and all the data you scraped compiles in a memory, one for Miyeon and Miyeon alone to relive. You walk over, drawing the connection from the chair and readying to insert it into her arm. "Connections like these, they can hurt, okay? Are you ready?"

"Do it." She's insistent.

A quick stab of your fingers later and the tiny prongs slide into the barely visible organic slot on her skin. Her head tosses violently and for the first time, there's fear on her face. But as soon as you have her connected, her eyelids begin to flutter. You sit a while, watching her as a million synapses all spark to life behind rolling eyes—whatever the moment is, she is in it. You leave her in peace and sit back at your workstation, waiting.

There's an artificial sensation of the atmosphere becoming slightly humid all around, the lights are a soft pastel blue, and the world is swathed in cotton wool. Silent. You find yourself completely frozen in time. It drags and yet somehow comes to a finish just as you're still adjusting to the quietude.

Miyeon's connection beeps and you turn around, removing the port from your system. She pulls the connection from her arm.

"So, tell me, was it worth the trip down memory lane? You get everything you wanted?" You unplug the old-school hardware and await the confirmation that all the corrupted data's safely expunged from your hard drives.

"Almost everything. But most things, in the end, never get a happy ending, do they?"

"Sounds heavy. The stuff that happened on there, pretty rough, huh."

Her pupils are dilated, the whites of her eyes flooded red. "Like you wouldn't believe." Miyeon climbs from the chair, finding her feet back in the real world after living in another for a precious few minutes. She blinks twice and there's a distinct film over her corneas.

"So that's it? My end of the bargain was fulfilled. And I get my licensed content?"

Miyeon turns and you wonder if that's a tear that's been cast down her cheek. "Sealed and guaranteed. Now let's give you some real data to work with. The right anatomical model, an authentic Miyeon behavioural pattern, every single unique vocal calibration, every erogenous spot, every subtle expression in real-time—have it all. One more condition. I have another memory, a real one in my head, if you make me relive that, you can record it and scrub every detail you need. Are we agreed?"

You nod. "Done. Sit there and we'll connect."

"You're going to manually record?"

"How do you think I get it all so accurate?" you tell her with a smug smile.

She sits and gives a nod. "If it's got to be done." You take a seat behind her, and you both reach over your shoulder to pull the neural connector into your napes and slot them in.

A brief flash of many realities as you slip into her consciousness and she welcomes you to her memory.

A calm setting, sitting in a car, you were driving and she's in the passenger seat. You're parked beside a winding hillside road and looking out over a city. A city you don't recognise. Miyeon's fingers dancing across your thigh with a suggestive gentleness, a sly smile.

"Where are we?" you ask.

"Seoul." Miyeon smiles.

"When are we?"

"2024."

"2024? That's over seventy years ago!"

She laughs. "Yeah? You wanted the real authentic Miyeon, didn't you?"

"Sure, but in 2024? That's just unbelievable. You look the same. How are you so—"

She leans close and traces a finger across the line of your jaw. She stares directly into your eyes and says, "We'll worry about the details later. Right now, you want what I've promised, and you've come this far, so you know what has to be done. We're already where we need to be."

Your senses are engulfed in an emotion and memories that are not your own. All a simulation and all a vivid and overwhelming experience. You're in love with her, that's the overriding feeling—the feeling of whoever she was really with at this time.

"This is the memory of the best sex of my life." She leans close to whisper to you. "So do try your best."

"This is just..." You don't get to finish, she's grabbed your shirt and pulled you close. She kisses you deeply. There is nothing of the daintiness or composure that you're used to, you've lost all your will and she is dragging you out of control. You find yourself consumed with an overwhelming and perplexing ecstasy and the idea of restraint or of reason seems unimportant now. You're driven purely by passion and by instinct—she has to have you and you have to have her, it's almost a compulsion. She's yanking off her seatbelt and reaching for your trousers, clawing at them desperately.

And just like that, you're scrambling at each other's clothes, almost frantic. You have the sensation of her breath across your face, the heat of her lips against your skin. Hands, everywhere. Exploring the curves of her body. A hungry desperation to peel back every layer of fabric to feel more, and more of her. She bites your bottom lip and looks at you with pleading eyes.

"I want you and I want you now." Her lips move like liquid lust and her hand like electricity, the energy tingles when she wraps her fingers around your cock and pulls it free from your pants.

She gasps and then giggles as if pleasantly surprised, a cute and kittenish squeal, she hums with her own approval of her actions.

"I'll be gentle," she whispers, her eyes shining with mischief. She rubs you from tip to base, taking the full length, slowly and teasingly over and again until the blood's pumping and you're at full salute. She's on her knees in the passenger seat and leaning over you. A smirk on her lips, she goes lower and lower still, her tongue warm and wet. Taking your crown into her mouth and enveloping you, her pace slow but sure.

Your hand in her hair, not to control or pressure, just to feel her in the moment. Encourage her, caress the back of her neck and appreciate every moment of pleasure. She takes you deep, deeper into her throat, the heat of her lungs, the power in her movements as she comes off and plunges again and again. It's effortless and instinct, and not for anything other than her own desire to please, and that itself is thrilling, you have to admit.

It's a strange new world for you to have sex without the enhancements of technology. It's so raw.

You sigh and whimper at every suckling pull, your nerve endings raw and singing. Her palms firmly pressing down onto the tops of your thighs, her movements grow slower, more sensual but she sucks harder, the vibrations from the moans of her enjoyment humming through the root of your shaft—fuck, it feels so fucking good, too good. She releases you with a slight gasp for air and a drooling line of spit.

She wipes her lips with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Outside, now." Miyeon doesn't hesitate. Her shirt pulled off and tossed into your face and she's leapt over to the rear passenger door, flinging it open wide, the warm night air rushes in to greet you, along with the sound of crickets. She slams the door shut and you open yours.

You climb out and head to meet her at the front of the car, she's already leaning against the metal hood. The car is one of those muscle cars from back at the time, a real classic ride that suits a woman like her. "Hey you," she rubs her hands against the metal as she leans forward and sprawls herself over it. "Get behind me already," her tongue dancing across her red-stained lips, her chest heaving in excitement, you're as hot and as hard as you'll ever be.

Miyeon tilts her head, watching you closely with half-opened eyes, her pretty pink tongue sticks out between her perfect teeth, and a teasing wink follows. She wiggles her hips, an inviting gesture, her skirt raised to reveal the gentle wobble of her cheeks—she doesn't have underwear, what a perfect minx she is—all bare for you.

She runs a hand down over the hem of her skirt and then raises it fully up over the top of her ass. As glorious as the very stars overhead. You have an overwhelming urge to run your hands across her bare flesh and as you take the first steps towards her, you find your arms reaching and touching and tracing every inch of skin that's exposed.

You run your hands over her cheeks, spreading them, kneading them, Miyeon's letting out soft little noises, encouraging you, inciting you—but fuck, this view... it's exquisite. It's so clear now, that all those fakes, the painstaking hours of recreation, simply did not live up to the real deal, and not just the view, everything is magnitudes superior.

You smooth your palm between her thighs and you part them, pulling her ass to the edge, sliding her legs open, watching as her wetness shines. "Just how badly do you want me?" you ask her.

"Look at me, how can you say something like that? Of course, I fucking want you. I hate having to wait. Come and fuck me."

You guide your cock to sit between her cheeks and rock into it gently, enjoying how those perky cheeks cradle your length and the way her whole body rocks with every movement. "Is it wrong that I love watching you squirm?" you ask, running the palm of your hand over the bare skin, digging your fingers in, grasping a handful and appreciating how it yields under your fingertips.

"Only wrong if I mind, and I don't," Miyeon groans, lifting her hips against you and smothering your dick in her deliciously juicy flesh. She is irresistible. "So what are you waiting for," her voice soft and suggestive. "Go on, you know you want to. You know how much I need it."

You grit your teeth and trace her lips with the tip of your cock, and it's like lightning flashing between you both. Fuck. Her lips are so wet and hot—they're so tantalisingly puffy. She wiggles and gyrates against you as you rest inside her opening. She groans and you're shuddering.

You slide the first few inches and gasp. You both moan softly together as you glide in, she's so much tighter than you had imagined she might feel—every inch that slides inside makes her clench you more.

"Yes," Miyeon is urgent and breathy, her muscles are contracting as though attempting to swallow your entire length. And she's hungry for it. "That's it baby, nice and deep," her words as electrifying as the sensation of her snug walls quivering as she clings on with greed.

"Like this?" you whisper in her ear as you lean over and pin her petite frame against the metal, letting her feel you, all of you. Every inch. And as she moans and shivers under the weight of your body. Your hands reach her shoulders and your fingertips find her neck, circling and caressing and massaging in all the right places—she turns her head as far round as she's able to gaze at you as she hums and gasps with each rolling movement of your hips.

Her teeth biting her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed pink, a complete dream in motion. Her body arches as she urges and wills herself back on you. You groan in return. Everything about her feels unreal in its perfection. She's squeezing against your cock, and her most hidden recesses begin to melt for you.

Miyeon cums like this, and it's without warning. She tenses, her eyes go wide and her mouth hangs open—her silky tunnel clamps tight as a vice grip. And the way she gushes all over you, covering you, she can barely breathe, she can barely let out a cry or a single noise, only ragged breathing as you hold her firmly in place and fuck her through it.

You fuck her without shame or inhibition. She whimpers, a feeble cry, every thrust powerful and deliberate. Miyeon moans what feels like your name and you give another forceful snap of your hips, both hands firmly on her slim and shaking waist. There are no words that can possibly encapsulate her.

"That's it," her breath erratic and shaky. She grinds her ass into you with every forward push, working into a perfect rhythm and going balls-deep with each pump. "Hard." You slam against her ass, the clapping sound of skin against skin—it fills the warm and humid air.

Miyeon cums again. So fucking easy to make her cum. Her beautiful brown eyes are desperate with desire. She shakes, she is panting, "Just like that, keep doing exactly that and I'll lose my damn mind. God, you feel so fucking big."

She's limp now, just taking rough, powerful and blissful strokes—her cries a series of hoarse grunts and weak moans.

You grab her by the waist, hard, she lets out a yelp, and then you're manhandling her, throwing her delicate figure over onto her back. There they are, those perfect little tits, grown red being forced against the metal of the car. Her soppy mess drips out from her thoroughly fucked hole.

"This, is all you wanted right?" You gather her legs and thrust them roughly up and over your shoulders, sliding easily back inside. Her pussy gushing and absolutely soaking. "A good rough fucking. You just love to be used don't you, baby. This is the side of you I've been missing, seeing how you have always been so prim and proper in front of everyone."

"That was your problem, all those homemade VirtueXs made me all commanding when I really just love to be taken." Her breaths are ragged.

"Maybe that's just how I'll be selling you in future then," you say.

She gives a throaty chuckle. "Do whatever the fuck you want, but for now," Miyeon takes a tight hold of her knees, and draws them against her chest. "Make me cum again, please."

You have her absolutely filled with every inch of cock and stretched tight with every savage drive of your hips, again, and again, and again. Sweat forms a light film over every curve and groove of her form. She's gorgeous, she's taking it, and she's loving it. "Let me feel you cum," she breathes between pumps and thrusts, her fingers kneading the flesh of her thighs as she spreads herself as open as is physically possible.

A combination of pressure and adrenaline, you're hammering deep. Miyeon is groaning and pleading. A loud moan, a series of short sharp exhales and whimpers. Those narrow hips are trembling, her slim thighs shake, toes are curled. Her orgasm and invitation for you to join her come as a surge.

You explode. Locked, sheathed so deep and full, you fill her. "Cum so much..." Miyeon sighs in awe. Your climax is euphoria.

Both a sweating, quaking mass of interlocked limbs, you pull away and your drenched cock slips out. "How are you real," you exhale. "Never felt anything like you."

"I am one of a kind." Miyeon laughs gently to herself. "Now let's get back in there and you can fuck me some more."

You're in the backseat now, Miyeon's slender body climbing all over you. She leans in and takes your lips, her sticky lip gloss and the sweet taste of her mouth as she invades with her tongue and leads yours into a frenzy. Her fingertips drag down across your chest. She's positioning herself over your cock.

The beauty of simulation is there's no recovery, only the chasing of the next orgasm, and she's keen to provide the means. She takes you with her eyes closed, a small, grateful moan and she slides herself slowly up and down. Your head arches back with a cry as she holds onto your shoulders and glides her lips down over your shaft.

"Gonna ride you," she whispers as she rocks herself in time with the rise and fall of your breaths. "Ride you until you explode again." Your fingertips squeeze into the supple curves and muscles of her torso.

It is a euphoric ecstasy. Miyeon looks perfect riding a dick. She sinks down low, grinding back and forth. She moves like waves, her hair stuck against her cheek. You take hold and move the strands out of the way, before trailing down the bare skin of her neck and to her tits, groping them firmly.

"Been so long since I last got to do this. Missed how big you are." She grasps the headrest as the speed and intensity of her motions increase. "Yeah, that's it, baby."

Her eyes flutter and her head starts to fall further and further back. Erratic, out of control, wild—she starts slamming her ass down hard. Fucked-slack and oozing, her juices dripping down. She's growing quiet and you watch her expression transform, her eyes turn glassy. You watch her face strain in her pleasure, it's a wonderful sight—pure bliss. Then she erupts into moans as her body convulses and spasms, and all you can do is hold her steady, her hole throbbing tight around you. She gasps, desperate for oxygen, every fibre and nerve singing in harmony.

From one, right into chasing the next, Miyeon lifts herself, turns, presents her ass to you and sits back on your cock. You watch it slip up between her cheeks and disappear inside her cunt once more, she hums a content sigh and leans forward. Miyeon braces herself against the window of the car, looking over her shoulder as she moves.

Her groin rocks and grinds on your shaft in a rolling motion and it's heaven itself. That cute, perky ass smacks on your groin in a sensual motion. Her hand snakes between her legs. Her moans grow in strength and volume. Wet, slippery, soft, Miyeon's fucking you and riding herself to her own orgasm. She starts to tremble. You start to tremble. She's squirming wildly, desperate for her climax, that gorgeous cunt squeezing every inch and driving you crazy.

And you lose it. Another intense explosion that makes you clasp onto her ass and hold it steady. A groan rips through your entire body, and you empty everything you have. She cums the instant she feels the heat spread through her. A unified orgasm. Pure heavenly relief. The energy seems to drift into the air and the car rattles beneath you both. It is incredible. The euphoria is otherworldly.

"Tell me that was good," she asks softly.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Again. Again. Please, one more time?"

"It's your head, sweetie. Have at it."

"Hmm, I suppose it is. Then I want to sit on you, and I want it in my ass." Miyeon giggles and slips herself off you, a mixture of your cum and hers falling down her thighs.

"Whatever the fuck you want," you groan, delirious as Miyeon pulls you up to the seat and then takes her place on your lap, she spread her legs out over yours and you take her hips, guiding her ass onto your cum-soaked cock. Everything is a fucking blur but the sensations are turned up to eleven, and there is nothing else that is comparable.

You plant kisses on her hot, sweaty back as you slide her down onto your length. She's twitching, and squirming. You hear her let out a soft gasp of delight at the invasion. The tightness, the constricting squeeze is just...

"Oh yes..." Miyeon breathes softly. "Let me... let me do the work now, let me fuck this big hard dick with my tight ass." She circles her hips, drawing on your cock with a slow, tight, merciless motion. Your world starts spinning all over again. She's slick with sweat, her cheeks grinding on your thighs, the scent and the sex drives you fucking wild. "What a perfect dick. I could do this all day."

You lean your head forward, and sink your teeth into the muscle of her shoulder—a flurry of loud moans from Miyeon as she bounces on your shaft. The sloppy sounds, the music of her pleasures, the clapping slap, it's insane and exhilarating. You lick her sweat from her flesh, tasting her.

She's slick and stretched, clamping around your cock as her pace quickens and turns ragged and urgent. It's a whole other level, it's unparalleled and all-consuming. You're just about ready to blow inside her ass.

"Hold onto me," She pants, grasping your left wrist and bringing it over to her mouth, placing your fingertips upon her tongue and sucking. It is lewd and erotic and exciting and your insides begin to churn and ache.

There's no stopping you now, you erupt again, gripping her waist as your hips buck up on instinct, jamming yourself deep and blowing. Miyeon moans around your fingertips—taking your load while still rubbing her swollen little clit.

"Yes, I love it when I make you cum like that," she murmurs, sliding herself slowly off your half-mast cock and crawling off your lap. She throws herself down on the seat in a heap, peering down at the thick mess of cum dripping out of her freshly fucked orifices, a dazed smile, satiated.

You blink and try to get her into focus but it's to no use—she blurs and vanishes before your eyes. And soon, you're back. Your workshop, in your chair, and still hooked into Miyeon. Still sitting back-to-back, your foreheads damp, breathing hard and ragged. The lights flickering a bright electric blue.

"Incredible," you breathe.

Miyeon sighs. "Yeah..." She detaches the link from behind her ear. Miyeon climbs to her feet, shakily making her way around your workspace. "I'm such a mess," She says, touching under her dress.

"Fuck, yeah me too," you sit there trying to process what just happened.

"I want a copy. The whole thing." Miyeon places a card down on the desk.

"I'll get started."

[kateschi]

by god, don't leave me

synopsis: in a heart-wrenching moment of despair, katsuki races through a hospital to find you, only to confront the devastating reality.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: have you noticed how much I love "where is my wife?" angst + major character death btw!!

katsuki’s heart pounds in his chest like it’s ready to explode. his legs push him forward, carrying him through the sterile, cold hallways of the hospital, each step echoing off the walls in a frantic, relentless rhythm.

“where is she?” his voice breaks through the silence, barely held together by a thread. “where is my wife?!”

the nurse at the counter starts to respond, her eyes filled with the kind of pity he can’t bear to see. his face contorts in desperation, and he doesn’t wait for her to explain.

he’s moving, his boots slamming against the floor, refusing to believe—refusing to even consider—that he might be too late.

another doctor, another nurse tries to intercept him, but he’s beyond hearing them. he pushes past, breaking into a sprint, his breath coming in gasps, wild and desperate.

when he reaches your room, it’s as if time stops.

there’s a stillness in the air that hits him like a punch to the gut. he stands there, gripping the doorframe, refusing to believe what he sees.

you’re lying in the bed, so quiet, so still. too still.

he stumbles to a halt, the sight of you stealing the last shred of breath he had left. you're lying there so still, too still.

the life that always seemed to burst out of you—the laughter, the warmth, the damn light—it’s all gone. all that’s left is your body, and that makes him furious, desperate, helpless.

“hey.” his voice trembles as he reaches for you, his hand hovering over your cheek before he finally touches it, cupping your face with fingers that shake uncontrollably.

the warmth he’s looking for isn’t there, the color gone from your skin. “come on,” he whispers, his voice barely a breath as his thumb traces your cheek. “come on, y/n, wake up.”

but you don’t respond.

he bites his lip hard, tasting blood, willing the agony to stop because he can’t let you go.

he’s gripping your shoulders now, his fingers sinking into you like he could hold you here, force you back to life by sheer will alone.

“you… you promised,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “you said we’d grow old together, remember? that we’d be those old, grumpy people who couldn’t stand anyone but each other.”

but there’s no answer, no gentle squeeze of his hand, no reassuring smile. just silence. he presses his lips to your forehead, his hands still cupping your face as if he can anchor you, hold you here with him just a little longer.

“you lied to me,” he murmurs, his voice trembling, harsh, as though he can will you back by sheer desperation. “you said you’d stay with me—no matter what. no matter what.”

katsuki's hands go slack, slipping from your face to the edge of the bed, where his knuckles press white into the mattress.

he stares, his mind refusing to process, searching for any sign that this is all some horrible, twisted joke.

for one unbearable, suspended moment, he almost expects you to stir, to open your eyes with that look that says he’s an idiot for worrying so much.

but there’s nothing. just the faint beep of machines, the sterile scent of antiseptic, the steady ache that presses harder and harder against his ribs, hollowing him out with each passing second.

his fingers curl against the sheets as a tremor runs through him, his breath hitching violently. memories flood in unbidden—moments he thought he’d have time to revisit someday.

how you’d laugh and shake your head when he’d scowl over some trivial thing. how you’d tuck yourself into his side on quiet mornings, your hand pressed against his chest, the sound of your breathing steady against his heartbeat.

katsuki feels his throat tighten as he leans down, forehead pressing against the coolness of your hand.

"we had a whole life planned out," he whispers, voice breaking.

“remember? we’d find that crappy house by the beach, fix it up, make it ours. you were gonna paint the walls bright colors, and I was gonna complain and pretend I hated it."

he lets out a jagged breath, eyes clenching shut as his shoulders shake, the reality tearing through him in waves.

this wasn’t supposed to be how it ended. there was supposed to be more—more days, more late nights, more everything.

“I don’t…” he struggles, voice barely more than a broken rasp, “I don’t want to do this without you.” the words slip out, hollow, stripped of all the fire he’s ever had, leaving nothing but the raw ache underneath.

he presses his face into the crook of your neck, searching for any hint of the warmth that was once there, anything to hold onto, but it’s gone.

and it hits him, like the ground crumbling from under his feet, that you’re really not coming back.

the weight of all he’s lost crashes into him. he thinks of the arguments that meant nothing now, all the times he’d leave you with a brusque goodbye, figuring he’d make it up to you later.

how you’d roll your eyes at his stubborn pride, laughing at how he’d scowl at affection in public yet draw you close the moment he thought no one was watching.

he’d do anything to take it all back, just to hold you again, to let you know he’d trade every bit of strength, every scrap of pride if it meant you’d be here, laughing at him, calling him out on his nonsense.

he doesn’t notice the tears streaking down his face as he stares at you, the silence so absolute it feels like it’s burying him.

the room feels colder now, like the world has shifted on its axis, taking you with it.

for a moment, he wonders if he can even go back to the life you both shared; if he can return to the apartment filled with pieces of you in every room, every corner.

katsuki’s shoulders sag under the crushing weight of it all, fingers curling around the edge of the bed as he takes a shuddering breath. he wants to scream, rage, curse the universe for being so damn unfair.

but all he can manage is a broken whisper. “I should have told you more… should have said it every day. you’d have laughed at me, said I was going—soft.”

he gathers you closer, pressing your body against his own as he begins to sway, rocking gently back and forth as though he can somehow soothe the emptiness inside him.

his chest shakes, the first tears slipping down silently, but then they come harder, a ragged sob tearing from his throat as he buries his face in your neck.

“I love you…” the words escape in a cracked whisper, his breath hitching as he clings to you, his grip tightening, desperate.

“I love you… I love you…” he murmurs, his voice breaking more with each word.

his tears fall faster, his breath coming in shuddering gasps, as if the weight of those words—the words he can never say to you again—is too much to bear.

“I love you,” he chokes out, each syllable fractured, his body trembling as he holds you closer, his tears soaking your shoulder.

his heart shatters all over again with every whispered confession, until he’s clutching you so tightly it hurts, his sobs growing louder, rawer, until he’s left gasping, brokenly repeating, “I love you—I love you, y/n—so much.”

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[latenightdaydreams]

Monster König finds a willing partner for his breeding season.....and maybe found his future wife.

Yesssss💗

Monster!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, monster, oral, p in v

1.7k word count

.

.

You took a short vacation from work, deciding to go into the wilderness to disconnect from civilization for a bit. Having recently ended a six-year relationship, this feels like the start of a new chapter. An independent life free of love or men.

Hours from home you pull up to the camping grounds a few hours before sunset. It’s autumn so there aren’t many people here, thankfully. Once you park, you gather your camping gear, and set off on your journey. The area you’ll be in is isolated clearing deep into the woods.

The leaves crunch under every step you take, your eyes following every small creature you see scurrying past you. You're able to set up your tent before you lose natural light and you make a small fire. For some odd reason, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. From what you know, there are no dangerous animals in the area so you try to relax.

With a pullover on and leggings, you sit near the fire eating and roasting the occasional marshmallow. There are no sounds, not even a cricket in the night. It seems odd, but you’ve never been in this situation before so you once again ignore that gut feeling.

König watches from the shadow of the dark, his glowing blue eyes tracking your every move. You smell exquisite and look like a precious doll. It’s mating season for his kind, and his kind are dying out. Finding a mate is usually futile and ends in him missing the season. Yet, you’re right here. Almost as if you fell into his lap; a fertile female of the human species.

There is a heavy tension in the air as you hear a twig snap. Your eyes dart around in the darkness, unable to see anything. For a moment you hold your breath, trying to listen as closely as you can to make sure some random human wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. Then it happened again. You drop the stick with roasted marshmallows on it and jump up.

“Hello? Who's there?” Your hand reaches for the can of pepper spray on your hip.

There is no response. Only a loud silence and a tension that vibrates through your whole body. You can hear your heart beating but you attempt to appear stoic. There is a small rustling of the leaves before a low growl is heard.

“H- hello?” Fear washes over you as you gaze into the darkness.

“Hallo, Liebling.”

A raspy voice comes from the trees. Heavy footsteps get closer as you slowly back away. With a shaking arm you hold out the pepper spray. Your voice cracks as you attempt to appear stronger than you are.

“I have pepper spray! Don’t come any closer!”

Silence. You don’t move, barely even breathing as you look around. After a few minutes, you begin to think that you’re going crazy, maybe being alone out here isn’t for you after all. Just as you were going to put your pepper spray away, you see glowing blue eyes gazing at you.

König walks out from the darkness, exposing himself to you. The giant creature stands at 8-feet with pale glowing eyes from behind its mask. He walks forward to you with a slow and steady speed as if to not startle you.

For some odd reason, you don’t scream or run away. Your eyes drift up and down the monster’s body, taking note of how muscular it is. A small gasp leaves your lips when you notice he has an erection; his giant cock bouncing off his thigh with each step forward.

The way you’re checking him out doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He’s pleasantly surprised to see how fascinated you appear to be, the fear in your eyes melting away. As he gets closer to you, he realizes how truly tiny you are. You’re nearly half his height; he’s never been with a human before and he’s curious to know what you could feel like wrapped around him.

“König.” His voice sent chills over your whole body.

“König?” You were confused at first until you realized that was his name. “I- I’m y/n.”

“My mate.”

Mate? You don’t respond, just gaze up at him. He lowers himself, kneeling before you. His hands caress your whole body; one of his hands nearly wrapping around your soft stomach. Small hums of satisfaction leaving his lips as he feels your warm body. He buries his nose into the crook of your neck and takes in a deep breath of your scent.

You melt like butter in his arms. All rational thought gone; this odd creature seems to have possessed you into submission. His strong musk consuming your nostrils, but it isn’t unpleasant. He slowly begins to pull up your pullover, exposing your breasts pooling in your bra.

König pulls his mask back, revealing the lower part of his face; his long slimy tongue creeps out and licks along your cleavage. You tremble, letting out a small whimper. His glowing eyes meet yours as he pulls your bra off and licks over your hard nipples.

This feels like a fever dream, monsters aren’t real; this can’t be real. It feels so real though, you can feel your pussy getting wet as his warm body mixes with the odd sensation of his tongue. When he pulls away, he looks at you, standing back up to his full height as he looks around.

“Undress.”

You do what he says, undressing before him and exposing your full body to him. The tip of his cock begins to drip with precum as he thinks of actually being able to breed, to fuck. He walks forward and grabs you, lifting you up into his arms. A small surprised gasp leaves your lips, a rush of excitement consumes you thinking about what is about to happen.

König nuzzles his masked face into yours in an almost affectionate manner. You boldly grab his mask and lift it to see a face almost human like. He pauses for a moment, wondering if you’ll reject him when you see how hideous he is. For a moment you linger saying and doing nothing causing his heart beat to pick up, but then you kiss the side of his face. Your kiss travels over him, down his neck as he kneels again, placing you closer to the fire to keep your small hairless body warm.

You look so tiny underneath him; he could crush you if he wanted to. Such a delicate beautiful human, all for himself. He leaves sloppy kisses over your abdomen, squeezing your thighs as he continues down. Finally, he reaches what he’s desiring most. His hand’s part your legs as he takes time to look at your beautiful pussy. It looks like a flower in bloom, sweet aromas emanating from the nectar glistening in the fire light.

König sticks his tongue out, swiping across your folds and tasting you. A deep growl leaves his throat, you taste like nothing he’s ever had before. The feeling of your trembling legs mixed with your small moans cause his cock to throb. His tongue pushes into your, swirling around as he attempts to get as deep as he can.

His claws dig into your skin as your eyes close letting the pleasure take over your whole body. You grab at the leaves and grass around you as your back arches. This is a new level of pleasure you’ve never felt before. When he pulls his face away you almost whine, desperate for more.

A smile crosses his lips when your gaze is full of desire. You desire him. He moves his body between your legs, kneeling. With one hand he grasps his cock and slaps his heavy cock against your pussy. The size difference is jarring but also exciting. Your tiny body will look beautiful with a full stomach carrying his seed.

“Oh fuck!” You hiss as his cock slowly slips into your cunt.

König presses in slowly to not hurt you. He knew that you’d be tight, but he didn’t know you’d be this tight. A shaky moan leaves him as he watches the way your lips spread to accommodate him. His eyes move to your face as he continues to push himself in, trying to get as much of his fat 14-inch cock into you as he can.

Your pussy feels as if it's about to tear. A stinging pain pulses as he sinks in as much as he possibly can. You look into his eyes with pinched eyebrows as you take deep breaths. His hips slowly begin to rock in and out, he can’t fight the feeling even though he knows it hurts. It will get better.

“Relax.” He whispers as he leans in to kiss your neck.

Your hands caress his body, tracing the contours of his muscles as his pace picks up. The feeling of your welcoming warm cunt consumes König; you’re perfect for him. Every thrust sends a tingle of ecstasy to build up from your cunt and burst throughout your body.

König’s hands caress your sides, wrapping around underneath your body. His hands rest on your ass, cupping the supple flesh as his hips slam harder against your delicate frame. The only objective in his mind is to cum, to get you pregnant. He begins to breathe harder as he feels himself approaching his orgasm.

He whimpers, becoming merciless in his rhythm. You moan out his name, praising him for how amazing he feels inside of you. His kind is usually never this affectionate, simply a season to pair and breed. Yet you’re under him, thanking him for fucking you. How beautiful.

“Y/n…” König moans as his hips slow to a stop.

He pulls out and looks down at you, breathing heavily as he looks at your body. For a moment he considers leaving and just coming back tomorrow night, but you look so vulnerable laying there. There is a deep desire to protect you.

König lays on the ground next to you, pulling your tiny worn-out body to his. One hand caresses your face gently as he kisses the top of your head. His massive body cocoons around you to keep you warm. You turn to König, nuzzling your face into his chest; your hand petting him as you begin to fall asleep.

[madwomansapologist]

Please share your headcanon about gale's kinks!!!!

gale's kinks/turn ons

Navigation | More Wizard of Waterdeep | AO3

synopsis: A deep dive into what the smart wizard man think it's hot. Yes, the brain rot is that serious.

warnings: i'm sick so if this isn't good i will blame the pills. testing a new format. this is about sex, don't interact if you're a minor. remember: if you kink shame me i will get horny just to spite you.

PRAISE KINK

That's a man willing to write poetry about your body, mind and soul. His tongue has only two purposes on life, and both of them involve making you see stars. If his mouth isn't in use, he will be praising you.

And when Gale feels so good he can't even speak, isn't that a praise on itself?

But that we all know. His reaction to receiving praise is what makes me want to bite my fingers off.

Gale Dekarios knows his value as a wizard, but not as a man. His ambition isn't a consequence of his desire to pursue more, but to be more. To deserve love, he must prove his worth. As we all know, it often doesn't end in a good way.

I don't think Mystra ever wasted her precious time to assure Gale of the contrary. And when she did, it wasn't about Gale Dekarious: it was about Gale of Waterdeep, her chosen. How his control of the weave was impressive, how he could conjure any sort of images, how his illusions could fool everyone.

So when he receives praise for any other part of his life that isn't his academic pursues, a part of his brain burns. Be as intricate as his poetry or as lascive as one can be, Gale can feel his knees getting weak. Weaker.

FOOD PLAY

Not only Gale loves to cook and bake, but he loves the whole idea of being responsible for making someone stronger and healthier. Hunger is a hurtful thing, that he knows, and he don't want anyone else to deal with it.

It comes hand to hand with his praise kink. When you eat something good, you don't need to use words: your whole body shows it. He would apreciate the compliments, nonetheless.

To spoon feed you would be such a turn on. It's so intimate, such a show of trust and care, nothing but human. The way your mouth opened for the spoon, how your tongue licked it clean. Can you blame him?

After helping you eat, it would be his turn to end his hunger. You don't mind being his plate, do you? Gale promises to lick you clean. You always taste so sweet for him, what's a bit of honey to add to that?

OLFACTOPHILIA

Your scent can turn him into a fucking mess. There is something so human about it. So natural and real about it. Is just you.

After a fight, when you are covered in sweat and blood, he can't help himself. To be around you can make him drool. You fresh from your shower, smelling just as you and not as any perfume. When you spend the day laying around and is too lazy to get clean.

The amount of times his cheeks burned red because he breathed in when you walked past and a companion noticed can't be numbered.

Gale prefers to undress you rather you doing it yourself. That means he will be able to breath deep against your undies before getting them off of you.

Wanna get him as hard as a rock in mere seconds? Give him a underwear you used for a long time. Just threw it at his face and go on with your day. He will be quick to follow.

Gale loves how he can still smell you on his upper lip after going down on you. If you squirt, he will cum on his trousers. I don't make the rules.

FACE-SITTING/FACE FUCKING

Again: his mouth has only two uses. Is almost therapeutic for him. Just get on top of him, use his mouth however you want. The place in between your legs seen perfect for him to die on.

Gale Dekarios is a service top looking for a pillow princess/prince. I VOLUNTEER!

FINGERS IN MOUTH

You know that feeling of not knowing what to do next? Where to put your hands, what to do with your mouth? Since he prefers to be the one doing things, this can be a problem. A problem that can be easily solved by your pretty fingers.

It can hit even harder if he's in the process of casting something and you stop him by just putting your fingers into his mouth. Gale won't even know hot to react. Actually, he might suck them.

Ok, he might have a oral obsession. What are you, Freud?

BONDAGE

Hand to hand with that sort of anxiety about what he must do next. Make sure Gale stays put in place and use him. Remember guys, your service tops also deserve to be fucked around a bit.

Magic restrains or ropes, and make sure to do some beautiful knots. He could break free from them, but Gale won't desobey. Not after you spend so long getting him ready for you.

shadowheart turn ons/kinks

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

BALDUR’S GATE 3 TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[luveline]

Derek and shy!reader maybe? Meeting the team for the first time and none of them are expecting Derek's partner to be standing half-hidden behind him, shyly waving at them instead of saying anything

thank you for ur request! fem!reader

"So what's the deal?" Emily asks Penelope, licking the stem of her paper umbrella dry before dropping it onto a napkin. "He's suddenly going steady?" 

"Can you call five months sudden?" Rossi asks. 

Hotch nudges him. 

"What?" Rossi asks. "Can you? Five months is a long time." 

"And that's why you had to send Christmas cards to three different divorce lawyers this year," Emily says. 

Emily has a penchant for saying the occasional brazen comment, but JJ confiscates her friend's margarita anyways, before the booze loosens her lips and she says something worse. It's a small jet. 

"It's not like Morgan," Spencer agrees, standing at Rossi's other side, looking less out of place than usual. 

"It's totally like him," Penelope says.

Hotch's smile is hard to read, which is a spectacle considering current company. "I agree." 

"Here he is now," Penelope says excitedly, clapping her hands in front of her chest. 

Derek strides into the bar and past its patrons without a care in the world. He looks happy, content, and the team doesn't need to see you to know you're with him. He smiles at his phone at work exactly as he smiles now, with his arm stretched backwards to tether you along. 

You come into view as the crowd thins. You're not what anyone's expecting, certainly not plain but nor are you dressed up. Emily, in her tipsiness, declares that you look adorable, and receives a reproachful look from Hotch in reward. 

"Hey Derek!" JJ calls as soon as he's near enough. 

"Hey, guys. Mama, you remember what we talked about?" Derek asks Penelope. 

She nods sagely. "Restraint. I'm restraining myself. Oh my god you're so cute, I'm Penelope! I'm so happy to meet you." 

"Hi," you say. 

No less than five pairs of eyes fall to your hand as you twist your fingers into Derek's sleeve. He doesn't bat an eye, taking a half step in front of you, a picture of casualness as he introduces you to each of them in turn. 

"It's nice to meet you," Hotch says, seemingly speaking for the whole group. 

You raise your hand and give a stilted wave. Your eyes look sad and stressed at once, but you don't sound either, softly saying, "You too." 

Derek wraps a muscled arm behind your neck, grinning while he meets Penelope's eyes. "What are we drinking tonight?"

Your eyebrows pinch up at the starts. You smile at them all despite your obvious nervousness, and it's enough for each of them to reach the same conclusion simultaneously. You're shy, but you're good. A broad sweep yet easy to make. It's obvious how much you care for Derek if you'd been willing to meet them like this when you clearly don't feel comfortable.

Luckily for you, Penelope is excellent as making people feel welcome. "We're drinking Y/N's choice. What do you like? Sugar shots? Mojitos?" 

Your lips part, unprepared for a direct question so soon. 

Derek turns his head to yours, giving you what Emily deems the most ridiculous puppy dog eyed smile anyone has ever given, and what Rossi knows is a ring waiting to happen. He should know. 

"Let's go figure it out. Another round, from me?" he offers. 

He's quick to steer you away, but not too quick to miss Rossi's, "Something strong if you want us old timers to stay!" 

They wait for you to be safely out of earshot before they condense, bad gossips and worse actors off the job. "Who would've thought?" Emily asks. 

"She's not what I was expecting," JJ says. 

"Are we that intimidating?" Rossi asks, raising his eyebrows. The answer being yes, of course, though none of them are aware of just how scary they can be. You'd felt like you were standing in front of a pack of wolves. 

"She seemed nice," Spencer says. Trust him to say something sweet. Trust the rest of Derek's friends to agree, the group nodding and humming at various pitches.

"She seemed silent," Emily jokes. 

Penelope crosses her fingers and closes her eyes, earrings swinging against the blond tresses of her curled hair as she drops her head. "God, my muffin deserves nice. Please let this work out, she looks so sweet. I just wanna pinch her cheeks." 

"It's gonna work out," Hotch says surely. 

If Derek could hear him, he'd agree on the spot, but he's too busy praising you halfway across the room for such a stellar introduction. 

[with-my-calamitous-love]

WOULD YOU TELL ME TO GO FUCK MYSELF?

bakugou katsuki x reader

part 3/3, part 1, part 2

a month after your breakup, you open the door for katsuki.

reminder that love is not a substitute for forgiveness. this is simply a work of fiction 🪽

inspired by betty

katsuki (do not answer) : have i told you that enough? that i love you?

katsuki (do not answer): im sorry

katsuki (do not answer): for not telling you i love you enough

katsuki (do not answer): for not telling you how god damn pretty you are

katsuki (do not answer): for not buying you flowers

katsuki (do not answer): for not treating you how i should have

katsuki (do not answer): i know i messed up

katsuki (do not answer): but i wanna make it right

katsuki (do not answer): you're my whole fucking world

katsuki (do not answer): and i do love you

katsuki (do not answer): so open the door, im outside

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

you stared at the texts. evident by the shadow behind your door, he was indeed standing outside your apartment.

the swirl of emotions in your heart threatened to climb up your throat and spill from your mouth at the thought of seeing his face. you should tell him to fuck off. you should send him crying. you should tell him how shitty he is and how stupid he is to come here seeking your forgiveness. you should be smart about this.

but you’re not.

your shaky hand rests on the doorknob, threatening to twist it and see his face at any given moment. but you hesitate, because of course you do. you’re sweaty and emotional and terrified. your hearts been through too much to go through more. how much more were you willing to endure?

just on the other side, katsuki rested his forehead against the wooden door, as if trying to feel your presence from behind. god, he misses you. he’d do anything just to see your face again. the worst thing he has ever done was what he did to you. and the only thing he wants to do is make it up to you.

he wonders if you’ll have him. if you’ll still want him.

and he isn’t sure what scares him more- your answer or your lack of one.

and just as he’s about to turn away, the door creaks.

he thinks his heart stops when he sees you. it doesn’t matter if your eyes are puffed up and your practically drowning in your hoodie. he is physically incapable of finding you anything less than gorgeous. his eyes are glossy, his hair is tarnished, he looks like he hasn’t slept a wink- because he hasn’t.

you sigh. this was gonna be a long night.

“…hey.” his usual gruff voice was replaced by something more sincere. he hopes you don’t notice how sore his throat is from crying.

you don’t say anything, instead opting to step aside, allowing this cheating, unfaithful bastard into your house. you watch as his crimson eyes take in the familiar surroundings, memories erupting from the beds you previously made. you wonder what he’s been up to in the past few months. it was izuku’s birthday recently- they celebrated by throwing a party. you wonder if maybe he went to that party, if perhaps he drank at that party. but you hoped his last endeavour with the liquid poison scared him away from alcohol entirely.

“is icyhot here?” he asks, cautiously. you scoff. of course thats what he wants to know. “no.” you answer, and he sighs in relief. but you almost wish shouto was here. you two never dated like katsuki and many others thought you were, but you’d be lying if you said the photos you had posted on instagram weren’t a bit suggestive. you knew they’d drive katsuki crazy, and they succeeded in fulfilling that goal.

“are you two…?” he trails off, the answer causing katsuki to have feelings he wasn’t able to confront. when you shake your head no, he decides to leave it at that. as long as its a no, he’s okay without hearing the details.

the two of you wander off to your bedroom. seeing katsuki in it makes it feel complete for the first time in months. you two sit side by side on your bed, just accepting each others existences without anything else to add. theres so many unspoken words, so many tears yet to be shed, yet it was the silence that stung the most.

“i’ve you told you this a million fuckin’ times babe but… i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” he says, running a hand through his hair. he’s at an honest loss for words. he’s starting to think coming all this way was a mistake, especially when he sees the way you tear up over his words. god, he hates himself for this.

the worst part about seeing katsuki on your bed again was knowing that just a few months ago, he laid on some other girls bed. he took the sheets of the bed you made together and crumpled them up. he deflated the pillows and burned the headboard to ash the moment he crossed the threshold onto some other person. it broke you inside just thinking about it, thinking of the other person he kissed, he touched, he made love to. it made your stomach churn.

“do you regret it?” you shakily ask. you need to know. you need to know that he’s absolutely drowing in guilt, his heart tortured by the past. he looks at you like the answer should be obvious.

“every single day.” he proclaims. “its why… its why i has to break up with us. you deserve so much better than me, [y/n].”

you had never seen katsuki looking like such a mess. he could barely look you in the eye while making his desperate attempt to atone for his sins. and you agreed- you deserved better than him. you deserve better treatment, better love, and a better boyfriend.

and you wanted to scream at the sky, at the universe. scream at them, ask them why that person couldn’t be katsuki bakugou? it was god’s cruelest joke to make you fall in love with a bastard like him.

you look over at him. god, you wanna kiss him, touch him again. feel your bodies pressed against each other, lips on lips while his tongue explores the cavern your words erupt from. that warm, area of limbo between your lips when he ever so slightly pulls away, letting you remove his shirt over his head. you wanna hold him, skin against skin, you wanna love him.

even if it meant tasting that other girl on his lips. if you were being honest, you wanted to kiss that taste away for him.

but you couldn’t bring yourself too. not after the way your heart screamed for salvation, for milk and honey, to be loved without having to give the moon in return.

“i don’t forgive you.” you finally muster out. both of you let out a sigh, yours in relief and bakugou’s from anticipation. he knew that would be your answer, but he let himself believe otherwise.

“i know.” he says, shakily looking down, ash blonde locks hanging low. it was so, so fucking funny- what was he expecting anyway? your forgiveness?

“and. i still love you.” you cry.

“i don’t forgive you. not after what you did. i-i… i can still love you without having to forgive you right now.” your conclusion is what hurts him the most, though you both know its whats gonna have to work. you can still love him, because your heart is so utterly his, and still hate him for how he hurt you.

and for katsuki, hearing that you love him, despite everything he’s put you through, is somehow better than forgiveness.

though he is utterly flabbergasted by your words.

how you still love him is a mystery to both of you. he never wants to taste anyone else on his lips other than you. you’re the name on his lips, the chapstick he keeps in his pocket, the hoodies he puts on his pillow and the person who taught him how important heartbreak can be. he’s fucked up, and he may be the biggest fuck-up in all of japan, but this fuck-up just learned how much he loves you.

he bites his lip, not even daring to ruin the moment. he’s not sure if he’s supposed to stay or go. where does he even begin making this up to you?

but he knows what he has to say first.

“i love you too, babe.”

“oh, go fuck yourself.”

tags! 🪽

@sleepieenaps @suki0 @blue-chup @cookielovesbook-akie @ruu-https @sleepyk0dyz @poemzcheng @suksatoru @naladrawssss @theclassiccherry @sikuthealien

[mercy-burning]

A Kindness You Can't Afford

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: Something that started out as 'stress relief between co-workers' is now a little concerning to you, but for some reason you can't help but keep letting Spencer walk through your door... Rating: Mature (18+) Content: Strong language, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, blink-and-you'll-miss-it choking, squirting (As always, let me know if I missed anything!) Word Count: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: @imagining-in-the-margins sent me lyrics to Hozier's It Will Come Back to entice me to write something for her monthly challenge (which is themed Friends With Benefits), and then this happened. You can thank her for this. And also Emily Henry, because I read Happy Place and Beach Read back to back recently, and DAMN IT if I wasn't itching to do some romance-writing of my own. Sure, this one is less romance and more porn without plot, but I digress. The inspiration is there and that's all that matters. Plus I've started working on something else that probably won't see the light of day for a long while, but it's nice to feel the motivation. I'm starting to feel like myself again :) I don't know how long this creative sparkling cloud of dust is going to last, but I'm grateful to be living in it, if at least for a little while. It feels good to be there again <3

Enjoy!!

*******

There's a small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. A chill permeates your nervous system and sends you off on shaky limbs until you reach it, and as your palm comes in contact with the cool metal of the doorknob, you're disappointed to discover that the contrast does nothing to comfort the hot and clammy skin. Unless the person behind the door turns out not to be who you think, you will not know that comfort.

You open the door anyway, already used to this feeling of unease. It's a feeling you've come to tolerate, and sometimes even crave in desperate moments. Tonight has not seen one of those moments, but you suppose that doesn't really matter because you've already agreed to his terms, and unless you call it off, you're stuck. You've seriously considered doing it a few times, but something deep inside tells you he might not like it very much, and you're unsure of how he'll react.

It isn't a risk you're willing to take.

And so, you meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm. He looks a little sleep deprived, but it's nothing new. Your work is exhausting. It was a major deciding factor and is the driving force behind your agreement in the first place. A way to relieve stress. Somewhere along the way, it seemed to have turned into something darker, though in retrospect that darkness has always been there. You often think back to the first time you initiated intimacy— how excited you were that he seemed willing to take you up on the offer... How your head swam through glittering mist and your heart beat quickly at his words.

"God, Y/N, I need you to be sure... Because once we go there, once you let me in... Even after I leave, I'm always going to be there... You're going to feel me everywhere you go, and that's a promise..."

In the moment it even sounded romantic, and in some twisted way, it might still be. But you don't want to let your brain misconstrue this whole situation. You've promptly decided to take it for what it is and accept the fact that he has some deep desires he needs to expel, and you're just a convenient companion for the journey.

"Spencer, you're here late..."

He exhales through his nose. "No later than usual."

"Right... Come on in." You widen the door and confidently step aside like you wouldn't know any different.

Rather than let you close the door, he'd taken your words as an invitation to make himself at home, pushing it shut with his foot and jolting you forward with it, subsequently pulling you towards him. His hands are quick to guide your face to his own, and without a second more in passing, the night has officially begun.

Electricity is immediate, sizzling through your core at Spencer's drive. It's true that when you're alone, it's difficult not to overthink the situation and rope the emotional and logical side of it to the forefront of your mind. But being with him like this dissipates the thinking entirely. All you know is that it feels so good, and it's absolutely worth all the turmoil you put your brain through.

It's worth it when his tongue possesses your own and coaxes the most sinful, desperate noises from the depths of your chest, and when your delicate fingers find purchase in his hair. It's worth it when your back is up against the door with his knee wedged between your thighs. It's worth it when his hand glides down your jaw until each finger curls around your neck, not choking you but simply resting there like a necklace would. He squeezes gently for a second each time you twitch your hips, desperate to feel friction, and you whimper.

You've come to learn that the more noises you make, the more he rewards you with... well, more. So it doesn't take very long for him to decide that enough is enough, and he pulls away from you to turn you around. You brace your arms on the door and lean your head to the left so he can work.

Warm lips attach to your neck as nimble fingers snake around your front and dip below the band of your lounge shorts and underwear. Your insides hum to life, and your legs naturally spread apart a little further, making Spencer laugh against your skin. You half expect him to tease you, but the surprise leaves your body in the form of a rather whorish Oh! when he spreads you apart and glides his fingers through your warm cunt. He explores you thoroughly, circling and spreading and plunging his fingers inside you, until eventually he continues a slow and steady pace running up and down your clit. You can feel it in his breath, in the way it stutters over your neck— He's about to give you your first orgasm of the night. If his skilled hands wouldn't do it (which you know they will), his words definitely would.

"Mmmm, I love how warm you are, Y/N," he slurs into your neck. Then he lightly nips at your shoulder and quickens the pace and pressure on your clit. "And how fucking messy you get for me..."

You know what he wants, but even if you hadn't, it still would have happened. The first time he made you squirt, he'd been determined to do it again. And again. In every different way possible. Over the course of your stress-relief-escapades you've come to learn that this particular way (with his hand down your loose-fitting shorts) is his favorite. He never strives to do it anymore unless you're wearing a pair. Perhaps it's the sounds, or the feeling of your damp clothes and the desperate need to peel them away in favor of something more solid, but it's become your favorite way, too.

Your nails scratch at the door as you pant and sigh your way through an intense building orgasm, and Spencer leans forward with you, using his free hand to assist in holding you up as he furiously works at your clit with the other. His chin rests on your shoulder as he huffs out, "Go on, baby, let it out..."

He knows you're close, and those final encouraging words seem to snap the coil tightening inside you. Your thighs tense for just a second before you feel every wave of pleasure crashing into every limb. And then, you're able to relax and ride it out, letting him hold you up and pull the orgasm out of you like magic. It's wet, it's warm, and it's fucking sensational...

You can practically see the wild look in Spencer's eyes even if you couldn't actually see him at all. His presence is always, as promised, so inherently there, that even now it's a vivid image. His pupils are an empty abyss, and if you look too closely you're sure to fall in. Hell, you're not even positive that you haven't already fallen in, because the thought of calling it all off when it feels this good seems, simply put, wrong. Why would you ever want to deprive yourself of this feeling? His possessive, damn-near monstrous way of loving you as concerning as it is, had taken you to the highest places you'd ever known. Even if it isn't 'love' on paper, you certainly love it anyway. And he must love it, too, otherwise he wouldn't keep coming back.

He only comes back because you let him in in the first place, the rational part of your brain tries to reason, though it can't quite break through the fog of lust. At this point, it's so thick that you aren't sure it's ever going to clear.

Not that, right now, you'd mind...

Once your breathing slows and your legs gather the strength to pivot, Spencer removes his hand from your shorts and gently guides you to turn around. His lips are on yours immediately, and he's tugging at your shorts and underwear to pull them down. They drop to the ground and without a second to spare, he tugs you along through your living room and over to the couch. It's practically a straight shot to the bedroom from here, but apparently time is not a luxury he can afford this evening, because you barely have time to anticipate what his next move might be before he makes it.

Mouths still attached, the two of you nearly fall on the couch, and Spencer's weight covers you like a blanket. His hips pin yours down and his arms have taken to pinning your own above your head. He nips at your bottom lip and pulls away for a moment, but you chase him, trying to lean up and keep kissing him and whimpering when you can't.

A low laugh exhales from his chest. "And I thought I was the needy one in this relationship..."

He shifts then, getting up and kneeling between your bare legs to start undoing his pants. Meanwhile you lift your shirt over your head, grateful you'd already ditched the bra earlier in the afternoon. Less time to waste.

Seeing you completely bare from head to toe and ready for him seems to amplify that animalistic quality in Spencer that's so unlike the aura of the boy you met years and years ago. Whether he had that quality before he'd met you is unknown, but it's hard to imagine. You like to think that you and you alone have single-handedly created this primal sexual being simply by expressing interest in what youcould offer him amongst the joint understanding of the daily hardships that leech onto a BAU agent. Regardless of the truth, the sheer sense of power it fills you with... In every deep stroke of his cock, in every mark left behind, and in every praise sung, there is this irreplaceable strength that you cling to long after he's gone.

No hard truth would ever take that feeling away, and so you can't help the grin that manifests at his urgency. You can tell he wants nothing more than to sink into you immediately; he visibly struggles for a moment before opting to fully slide his pants and underwear off together until they're tossed over somewhere into the abyss. You half-expect him to whip his shirt off to join them, but instead he lunges forward and covers you again, muffling your whimpers with his mouth as one hand guides himself into your slick cunt.

You can feel the rumble in his chest the moment he's all the way in and you clench around him. He rests his forehead to yours and kisses you deeply before asking, "You ready for me, Y/N?"

The low echoing tone in his voice seems to answer in the momentary silence that follows.

You better be... 

It sends a chill down to the marrow of your bones.

You barely whisper out, "Yes," and before the last letter leaves your mouth, Spencer has pulled back and snapped his hips forward, starting a slow and brutal pace inside you. Your legs spread wide naturally, giving him all the room in the world to position himself to handle you however he wants. He opts for holding your breasts in his palms, holding himself steady and pinning you down firmly to the couch cushions.

It doesn't take long for your eyes to start their descent to the back of your head, until they flutter shut and you're seeing stars behind closed lids. His pace quickens, still hard and determined, and yet you know he has more in him. Part of you itches to whine and beg for him to go farther, to push him to his limits and make him fuck you until you're nearly unconscious and delirious. And truthfully, that's still a high possibility, but you also wouldn't mind staying like this forever.

Then, one of his hands shifts and glides up to your neck again. You open your eyes and find Spencer staring down at your body with hair falling down in front of his face and sweat forming on his brow. His mouth hangs open and then grins when he catches you staring, the sight making you sigh out and grip the bottom hem of his shirt with your fingers for any kind of stability.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm, and by the way his face is slightly scrunching you can tell that he's not far behind you.

Just the flash-forward thought of him filling you up sends a jolt through your body, and before you know it, your legs are tensing again, and you're yelling out his name in broken syllables as a flood of warmth spreads through your body. For a split second you wonder if you've both come undone at the same time, but this feeling is different and more intense. Familiar.

The sounds filling the room only confirms your conclusion, and then Spencer's words as he pauses and feels you twitching around him.

"Twice in one night, huh?"

You force yourself to look at him, to see the unhinged pride pooling in his eyes as you finish and wait for him to follow suit. It both empowers and frightens you at the same time, an odd combination of feelings that you're sure to have a crisis about in the morning. But for now, you can't help but lean back and watch the ceiling as Spencer grips your hips and starts fucking you relentlessly into the couch.

Finally, he pauses at the hilt inside you and holds himself there, stuttering out expletives and coming. He pulls back and then forwards a couple times, gently rocking himself through it, and then his grip on your body loosens and you're able to pull him down to you.

You wrap your legs around him to keep him still, unwilling to let go of this feeling quite yet. It's there— that strength that he gives you, whether he knows it's there or not.

And in about an hour after you wash up and go to bed, he will be gone, and that strength will slowly fizzle out overnight, and like clockwork, you'll long to feel it again some time after the concern runs its course— After you replay the night in your head, over and over, analyzing every look and every touch and every reaction. After you frighten yourself into believing that he must be in tune with some level of evil to use you for rough sex and then leave you alone during the day and act like it never happened, even though it's literally what you agreed to.

The back and forth will only make living harder, and so you'll push it all away and focus on work. Until Spencer eventually brushes your arm with the back of his hand as he passes you, or hands you a cup of coffee with a kind smile, and then you'll come right back to wondering how such a gentle soul could hold such intensity. It will unnerve you until you tell yourself that it's just the complexities of the human condition and that every soul contains multitudes. You see it every day. It's not uncommon. It's completely normal.

The thought will calm you enough to get you through the rest of the afternoon, and when you get home, you'll settle in for the night without a second thought. You'll make dinner, watch a show, read a book, endlessly scroll online, or talk to Penelope about whatever show she's watching... You'll keep yourself busy.

And then the sun will set. Your house will grow quiet. You'll start to feel it: the small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. You'll meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm.

So, yes. For now, you will hold onto him a little longer and bask in the afterglow of this exercise in 'stress relief'. Because even if it doesn't mean anything greater, and whether there's even anything within Spencer's motivations to decode in the first place... This moment in time, each time, is the most relieved you ever feel.

Your fingers flex gently over his shoulders, and through the soft, even exhaling of his breath across your cheek, you know for certain he feels the same.

*******

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out): 

@starrylang @xoxospencerreid @lovejules888 @awesomebooklover17 @yourmisosoup @gubswh0re @venomsvl @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @umbreonwolfy @hotchandspencearedilfs @spencerreidsmommy @abby2661 @youabitchhhh @reidsbabe @shemarmooresfedora @donald4spiderman @moonlight-2-6 @chaoticcatie @flipperpenguins @muffin-cup @centiaaa @foreveryoungxx3 @happymangospot @matthew-gray-gubler-lover

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

[cherrysnip]

just that — chwe hansol

pairing: vernon x afab!reader

prompt: "are you guys dating?" or that one time you strongly denied your relationship and he got sulky(?)

a/n: another fic for my fave secret dating x brother's bestfriend trope >.<. this was initially posted on another site before i decided to take it down and let it sit on my drafts for a year lol.

It was already two in the morning but you were still wide awake. With all the things you have done the whole day, it was expected that everyone, including you, would doze off as soon as you get on your beds. Unfortunately, you didn't.

The guilt that has been consuming you since earlier is what's actually making it hard for you to sleep. You had been rolling on the bed too many times as if that would help ease the regret you had been feeling (spoiler alert: it didn't).

When you arrived at your vacation house this morning, you and Vernon had tried to be as discreet with your relationship as possible. You going on a trip together wasn't a new sight, anyway. Vernon and your older brother, Wonwoo had been friends since freshmen year of college so the former is usually invited in times like this and so you both thought you could just let this three days pass without anyone knowing what you really have. However, it seemed like Wonwoo already had a hint about it and had been watching you the entire time. And alas! While you were having dinner, the million-dollar question was finally dropped.

"Are you guys dating?"

Vernon was about to answer but you suddenly panicked and was the one who replied instead, "Of course not. He is just like an older brother to me!"

As soon as you said it, you already wanted to take it back. But it was too late. Vernon may not have said a word but the disappointed look on his face spoke volumes. After that, you avoided each other for the rest of the night.

To be honest, this had been a subject of your arguments a couple of times before. Vernon wanted to tell your friends and families that you have been together for four months already but you're against it. It isn't because you were embarassed about your relationship or afraid that your family would say something negative (if anything, they're very very supportive). It's just that you wanted to enjoy the privacy you had without others minding your business, especially your brother Wonwoo who had been protective of you since your fallout with Joshua, even though it had been years and you have already moved on. He's also the reason why your past suitors had immediately scrammed away after going through the interrogation stage.

"Stop scaring them, will you?" You remembered complaining one time but your brother just shrugged.

"If they get scared of me and give up that easily then they're not really willing to fight for you. People like that are not worth it."

You knew you brother means well but sometimes you just want him to tone down the scare meter a little bit. Because if this continues, you might end up being single for the rest of his life.

But then, Vernon happened.

You already knew who Vernon was since he was a senior in high school. Vernon lives alone because the rest of his family is in another country. That's why when he gets a weekend off from the university, he would tag along with Wonwoo to your house to hang out. He is basically a part of your family now. However, the both of you didn't really got the chance to talk to each other because you were busy studying and usually just stays in your room the whole day when Vernon visits.

That set-up lasted for months until your first day in college. Wonwoo was supposed to give you the tour but had to cancel since he had to attend to something urgently. Of course, knowing you would whine about it nonstop, Wonwoo sent another person to guide you.

It's none other than *drum rolls please*, his best friend, Vernon. Surprise, surprise!

"Hi," that was just the first word that Vernon said to you (while sporting that smile that YOU swear would actually make anyone melt if possible), but you already knew you would fall for him. HARD.

You wouldn't admit it at first. The guy's nice (and freaking handsome and hot too) but you didn't want to give meaning to that kindness because you thought Vernon might just be doing it because you are his bestfriend's sister. However, it wasn't easy to supress the feelings when every time your eyes meet or when you smile at each other, butterflies would fill your stomach.

Not to mention, Vernon would also never forget to buy you your fave Iced Americano every chance he gets.

Luckily, it isn't a one-sided affection. Because apparently, Vernon is feeling the same towards you. The confession was nothing grand but for you, it was romantic and perfect.

It was in the middle of the crowd, during the Music Festival as your university's resident band was playing Enchanted by Taylor Swift, when Vernon looked at you directly in the eye and told you, "I like you so much y/n. I know this might be too sudden for you but I've been keeping this for a while and I just want to let it out. It's alright if you won't like me back ---"

"Shut up. I like you too," You replied while chuckling. You found Vernon blabbering cute because most of the time when you're together, you did the most talking and he would just agree and smile at you every now and then.

That was also the night that your relationship became official.

What followed was the happiest four months of your life. But now you're afraid that it would be cut short if you won't reconcile with Vernon as soon as possible.

You weren't able to take it anymore so you finally got up and carefully tiptoed as you went out of the room. You were just about to go to the next room but you heard a soft mumbling sound from the living room. That's when you realized that someone other than you were still up and is watching the television.

At first, you thought it was your brother but when you saw the brown hair peeking on the couch's headrest, it was a confirmation that it was him—your boyfriend.

Biting your lower lip, you walked towards Vernon who still haven't noticed that you were there. It didn't seem like he was focused to what he was watching, he was more like 'spacing out".

"Nonie?" You called softly and poked at Vernon's arm. The latter automatically looked up to you and blinked multiple times, probably making sure if you were really there or just his imagination.

"Why are you still awake?" Vernon reached for your hand and squeezed it lightly. You resisted yourself from crying because of how sweet your boyfriend is right now when he should be mad at you.

"I'm sorry about earlier," you said but Vernon shook his head.

"I should be the one saying sorry, babe. I told you I would respect your decision but I still acted up."

"But I know you're upset about it, Nonie."

"No. A little disappointed, I guess. I just don't want to hide anything anymore, especially our relationship. I don't want this to stay like a dirty secret because it's not."

You nodded and came over to sit on Vernon's lap. Your boyfriend was obviously taken aback but he just let you be eventually. He even encircled his arms in your waist to pull you closer.

"Okay. We'll tell them tomorrow."

Vernon's eyes widened. "Tomorrow?"

"Why are you so surprised?" You let out a laugh. "Are you still not ready?'

"Of course, I am. I've been preparing for it for months,"

"So you're not scared of Wonwoo-oppa?"

"As my friend, no. But as your brother, yes. I can even imagine him strangling me the second he finds about us."

You both knew that's far from Wonwoo's personality so he would most likely not do that but who knows? It could be worse.

"You'll be fine, Nonie. But if ever you get broken bones, don't worry, there's a nearby hospital, we can just--aw" you tried teasing him but Vernon was already pinching your nose before you could even finish your sentence.

"You're lucky I would do anything for you."

—♡—

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

Birthday present

Tags : smut, virgin female!reader, gojo can be gentle too! (I'm kidding, he's a feral bitch), dude likes to edge himself and he doesn't even know it, praise, a little stretched out until you reach the main course, unprotected sex (do not attempt, use protection), stomach bulge (cuz why not??), I lost my mind halfway through, gojo is in his mid-twenties (reader is the same).

Minors, you know the drill. Get out🚪👈🏼🚶🏻‍♀️

__________________________________________________

9 months. 9 whole months passed since you've started dating Satoru and you haven't done the deed yet, fearing the pain and whatever complicated emotions that comes with being a...well, virgin but luckily for you, the very impatient man is willing to be patient, just for you and you only. But just because he's patient doesn't mean he won't push his luck afterall, he's Gojo Satoru. What did you expect? What he wants, he always gets and unluckily for you, he doesn't want you. He needs you.

10 : 38 PM

"Babe can we do it today, Pretty please?,"

Satoru whines, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his head on your stomach, batting his pretty cerulean eyes up at you pleadingly. You look down at him with a neutral expression on your face, shifting on the bed to prop yourself on your elbows to look at him better.

"And what exactly are you talking about?" You ask, brushing stray hairs from his eyes with a small grin. "You know what I'm talking about," he groans, pulling you down and burying his face in your chest which earns him a light gasp out of you. "No bra," he notes happily to himself, subtly taking in your scent.

"Please pretty please with a cherry on top, I swear I'll take it easy and go slow. Nice and easy, yea?," his voice comes out muffled, hands slowly sliding under your shirt and resting on your bare skin to prove his point. You look at him incredulously and swallow thickly," you promise?", not wanting to deny him anymore.

Satoru looks up at you expectantly, his cheeks squishing as he rests his face on your breast, squishing it beneath him too," yea, I promise. I'll be gentle," he coos, hands gently roaming upwards to grope your chest. Kneeding and rolling your unoccupied nipple with his fingers, he smiles when it perks up and your breathe hitch. He sits up, eyeing your every expression down with a satisfied grin as he leans down and licks your bottom lip for access. You comply immediately and part your lips open, earning you a satisfied hum from him as he slowly lolls and twists his tongue with yours, his hands now tugging at your shirt impatiently, pulling it off of you with one final tug.

Throwing your shirt off at a corner somewhere, your skin rises from the sudden chill and you immediately cover your exposed chest, a grunt of disapproval popping out of him as he pries your arms open with ease, all struggle from you being rendered impossible as he admires the view of you squirming under him. "Nice an easy, I promise" gently groping your plush chest and perked up nipples, he kisses your lips, jaws and chin before making his way down to your neck, leaving a trail of spit behind.

Suckling and licking his way down to your chest, he takes a perked up bud in his mouth and rolls it around with his tongue, gently biting and tugging at it with his teeth. A smug grin on his face when he hears you moan softly, your hands immediately rushing to his hair and tugging at it as heat pools at the pit of your stomach. "Shh, you're doing so well baby. So, so well," Satoru murmurs, moving on to the neglected side and doing the same, his unoccupied hand drifting downwards and making its way past your shorts, groaning when he notes that you didn't have any underwear on and feels the sticky wetness oozing out of you," such a good girl. You're all nice and wet, just for me," he rasps out, lightly rubbing at your clit.

You gasp at the burn of it, back arching off the bed slightly as your hand abandons your position on his neck, choosing to grip on the sheets instead." Satoru," you sputter out, a tingling sensation running up your spine while looking up at him with wet eyes. Satoru immediately stops, mumbling apologies as he pulls his hand away and picks you up," I'm sorry, was that too far? Did I hurt you?" he asks worriedly, settling you down on his lap and wiping the few tears that leaked through your eyes, ignoring his raging hard-on which was very obviously poking your inner thighs through his sweat pants. You look at him confusedly, rubbing your eyes," no, no. It's nothing like that," you answer, he mimics your confused look.

"Why are you crying then?"

You flush, splotches of color appearing on your face," i-it just felt really weird and...well, nice." You admit, pursing your lips as you look at the visible relief flooding his eyes almost instantly and a smile tugs at his lips. "I thought I hurt you or something," he sighs, leaning his forehead against yours with a small smug smile on his face," so can we continue where we left off?"

"Ye-"

"Before you answer, I want you to actually think about it right now," he says, effectively cutting you off. " I may be patient but I'm not one of restraint so once we start...I can't guarantee that I'll be able to stop."

You chuckle lightly, resting your hand on the bulge poking at your thigh. Jolts of pleasure runs up through him, causing him to straighten his back as he stares at your hand and back at you speechlessly. "I want to do it, satoru," you whisper, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and pulling him closer until your lips are only centimeters apart.

"I want you," you kiss him, licking his bottom lips like how he licked yours. You were a fast learner, always was- who knew that it applied to this too.

Satoru feels something snap within him, immediately grabbing your waist and resting you snugly on ontop of his cock, grinding your clothed cunt down on it- pulling out simultaneous muffled moans out of the two of you as he hungrily kisses your lips, hands gripping your thighs before pulling away and swiftly turning you around, resting your back on his chest, he props a bunch of pillows behind him and leans down with you ontop of him.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he whispers hoarsely, tugging your shorts off and hurriedly disposing it to the floor. His hands immediately cups your cunt, eyes rolling back as he feels the gushing wetness and the vibrations of your moan coursing through him. Slowly pushing his finger in your tight warmth, all you can do is grip his arms and rest your head on his shoulder as he pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers inside to find that one spot.

He grins when he feels you clench down on his finger," Aha. You're weak here aren't you?" he whispers in your ear as he slowly adds in a second finger, abusing the gummy spot inside you- his other hand gently rolling your sensitive nub, your eyes roll back as small, broken moans spills out of you. Your mouth falls open and he takes the chance to press his swollen lips against yours, gently adding in a third finger to stretch you out properly. He doesn't want to break you afterall.

"You're close, aren't you?," he mumbles against your lips, adding a more pressure on your clit." Don't let me hold you back from cumming, baby," he teases softly, pressing light kisses at the back of your neck. As if on command, your body jerks as you snap, clenching down incomparably tightly and drenching his fingers- Satoru bites down hard on your shoulder, creating a bruising spot as he imagines his fingers inside you being replaced with his cock instead.

Gently getting you off of him, he lays you down on your back and brushes stray hair off your face, admiring the look on it with a grin," you did such a good job for your first time. I'm so proud of you honey," he coos, pulling his own shirt off and throwing it aside, you drool at the sight of his chiseled torso, rubbing your thighs together to create some friction in your throbbing cunt.

"S-satoru," you whine out softly, body still trembling from the aftershock, reaching a hand out to him weakly. He shushes at you; leaning down and kissing you gently as he pulls his sweats down, his bulge poking out prominently from underneath his boxer- palming his clothed bulge, he groans in your lips, sending vibrations down your body and pulling out loud, needy moans from you.

His hip bucks at the sounds, hurriedly pulling away from you and taking in deep, heavy breathes; the usual cerulean blue irises of his being replaced with a blown out black abyss staring back at you. Pulling his boxers down, his cock springs out and you gasp breathlessly at the sight of it. The tip was flushed pink, pre-cum leaking out of it and you catch sight of the thick veins running through it. You swear you saw them pulse, you lick your swollen lips nervously.

He was big. Too big. You were right, you can't do this afterall. It's not gonna fit. You don't even wanna try pushing that in! Were you horny? Hell yes! But that doesn't mean you're gonna run head-first to your death just because of it!

"Satoru, t-thats not gonna fit," you whisper, looking at him with apprehension. He shushes at you, leaning down and kissing your inner thighs, taking in your scent," it will, don't worry. I'll make sure of that," he mumbles, gently biting down and soothing it with kitten licks. His mouth goes dry at the sight of you throbbing and clenching onto nothing for him- licking the cream that oozed out of you. Sweet, you're unfairly sweet, he grunts at the taste of it.

Your hands immediately grasp his hair," Satoru, it's not gonna work ou-!" He licks at your slit, shutting you up," I said I'll make it work, didn't I? Don't you worry about it ," he mumbles absent-mindedly, suckling your clit and tongue fucking you, his hands holding on to your hips and holding you in place- the pressure of your thighs clenching onto his head only adding fuel to the fire as he drinks you up ravenously, your protests and moans of it being 'too much' falling on deaf ears. He's thirsty and you're wet, even an idiot would know that he's not stopping until he drinks his fill.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you cum once again, a silent scream ripping out of you. Your vision blooming white and your hold on his hair tightening more as if adamant to rip it off, thighs crushing his head and essence squirting out of you and onto his tongue as he greedily laps every single drop, Satoru swears that he can die happy right now. Dry-humping his cock at the mattress, whines pours out of his mouth as he feels his own release building up but he stops, shuddering at the feeling of the failed release.

11 : 12 PM

He wanted to cum inside you first. Satoru finally pulls away, gulping in air and realizing that he nearly suffocated himself between your thighs. "That won't be such a bad way to go," he muses to himself while rubbing his pre-cum along his length. An irony in itself, the strongest sorcerer dying between his lover's thighs instead of dying in battle, the former would've been an honor, the latter? An insult.

Brushing the hair sticking on your blissed out face, he kisses your forehead, lining his thick tip across your entrance," I love you," he whispers to an unresponsive you, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of the last orgasm.

Slowly and gently, he pushes his thick tip in you, grunting at the effort to stop himself from bucking his hips into yours. Broken moans spills out of you, coming down from your high at the painful feeling of being stretched to the limit," s-toru," you mewl out pathetically, hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him down.

"It h-hurts," you sniffle, looking at him with tear-stained eyes. Oh lord, what are you doing to him?! He quickly replaces his hold on your hips with the sheets instead, gripping the sheets so tight that he rips holes on it. Holding on to the last bit of restraint, he pulls out slowly before pushing in inch by inch again. Sobs springing out of you as you start squirming from the uncomfortable pain underneath him," for the love of all that's good, please stop moving. You're making this harder for me, baby," he rasps out, hands resting on your hips again, holding you in place.

Halfway in, he finally bucks his hips in yours and fits himself snugly inside you, he'd deal with the consequences later. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, feeling too filled and stretched out too fast," you promised to go slow! Satoru, you liar!" You wail out, squeezing your eyes shut and scratching his back, an outlet for the pain. You're not sure what hurts more, the hellish stretch or the betrayal of your lover.

"Shh, I told you didn't I? That I'd make it fit and look, you're taking me so well. You're so nice and warm, made just for me," he coos, licking your tears and forcing your head up to look at the two of you joined together, him being buried inside you from the tip to the hilt would've made a mouth-watering sight before if it wasn't for the pain ripping through your body.

Your nails go deep into his skin but Satoru doesn't care, he loves the pain.

Satoru presses down lightly on your bulging stomach, dazed at how deep he was in you. You clench down on him, your warm gooey hole hugging him so tight that he nearly cums immediately. " I'm gonna start moving," he whispers, earning him incorrigible protests out of you- pulling out a little, he thrusts into you shallowly, voice seemingly stuck in your throat, all you do is hug him tighter.

"You're sucking me in so well," he groans out, slamming his hips into yours, the bed creaks underneath the both of you. Pain soon turns into pleasure as he continues ramming inside you, hitting your gummy spot so well that all you can do is moan his name out.

"S'toru," your tongue lolls out of your mouth, mind going blank as you feel the ecstasy rising in you. "You're drooling down there, baby. I'm glad you like my cock so much," he moans in your ears, fingers tormenting your swollen clit as he thrusts mercilessly in you.

" 'ts too much, satoru!" You whimper, scratching his back, your senses going on overdrive. Too much, too soon. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, your body jerks and you clench down- his pace finally stuttering. Whimpering in your ears, he bites onto your collar bone; grinding you through your high. The ever tightening coil in him finally snaps, grunting as he comes in you, pouring his hot seeds inside your womb, rope by rope until your belly starts to swell with the amount. Breathing heavily, he topples ontop of you, crushing you underneath his weight but you don't care, more like you can't care. Betrayer.

12 : 07 AM, 7th December

"Best birthday gift ever," he mumbles, lifting himself up. Looking down at you with a grin, his softened cock starting to twitch inside you again.

"Let's do it one more time, yea?"

__________________________________________________

Typing this on my phone with one hand cuz my laptops busted and the other is in a cast.

Sorry it took so long 😔

Masterlist

[cyberl6ve]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑! 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 ─ 𝐅 𝐄 ! 𝐍

CHECK 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 FOR MORE!! (NSFW!!)

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

── .✦ : Y/N, in need of more weed, recalls her best friend Matt Sturniolo once mentioning that his brother, Chris, could help her restock. With Chris's number saved in her phone but never having met him, Y/N decides to reach out, stepping into an unexpected world linked to her friend’s mysterious brother.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · 𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 !! · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

⋆˙⟡ STORY CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT !! ⋆˙⟡

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ : 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐈’𝐦 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, but I need more weed. I take out my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find the number for Chris Sturniolo, my best friend Matt's brother. I've never met Chris in person before, but I've heard enough stories from Matt to know he's trouble. Despite this, I send him a text message asking if he could sell me some weed.

“Hey, is this Chris?”

A few minutes later, I get a reply from him.

“Depends. Who's asking?”

I roll my eyes at his response, but I type back anyway.

“I’m one of Matt's friend. Y/N. I need to restock my supply, and I heard you could help me out.”

There’s a bit of a pause before he replies.

“Ah, Matt’s girl. Yeah, I can hook you up. Come by my place in an hour.”

An hour later, I find myself standing outside of Chris’s house, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. I take a deep breath and ring the doorbell. A few moments later, the door swings open and I find myself face-to-face with Chris.

“Hey there,” he says, leaning against the doorway. “You must be Y/N.”

I nod, eyeing him up and down. He's wearing a plain black hoodie and a pair of jeans, his hair tousled in that carefree way that makes girls swoon. But I'm not about to let him see that I find him attractive.

As I look at him, it's impossible to ignore the similarities between him and Matt. They share the same colored hair, the same sharp features, the same easy smile. Matt had told me once that he was an identical triplet, and seeing Chris for the first time, I could believe it.

But the differences between them are obvious too. While Matt was always friendly and approachable, Chris exudes a confident charisma that's hard to ignore. It's like he knows he can get anything he wants, and he's not afraid to use it to his advantage.

He steps aside to let me in, and I walk past him into the house. “Make yourself at home,” he says, shutting the door behind us. “Can I get you anything to drink?” I shake my head, still trying to play it cool. “I'm good,” I say.

He looks at me for a moment, his eyes roaming over my body in a way that makes me feel both self-conscious and flattered at the same time.

“So, how much do you need?” he asks. “An eighth, a quarter, a whole ounce?” I shrug, trying to act like I don't care. “Whatever you've got,” I say.

He seems amused by my nonchalance. “You don't mess around, do you? I like that.” He grins and moves closer to me, leaning against the wall.

“How about an ounce? Does that sound alright?” he asks, his voice low and silky. Despite myself, I feel a flutter in my stomach at his proximity. “Yeah, an ounce is great,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “How much will that cost me?”

He smirks and crosses his arms across his chest. “Normally it would cost you $50, but since you're a first-time buyer it's on the house.”

I shake my head, trying to keep up the nonchalant act. “No, no, I can't let you give me a free ounce,” I say. “Let me pay you something at least.”

He grins and hands me the ounce, his fingers brushing against mine as he does. “Well, you can pay me in another way, if you're willing,” he says, his voice low and sultry.

I raise an eyebrow at his words, trying not to show how much they're affecting me. “And what way would that be?” I ask, playing along.

Without warning, he takes a step forward, closing the distance between us. His gaze locks with mine as he leans in, his lips hovering just inches from my own. “Maybe I can show you,” he says, his voice a low murmur.

He closes the gap between us, his lips meeting mine in a soft, but firm kiss. I find myself melting into him, my hands moving up to wrap around his neck as we kiss. He pulls me closer to him, his arms wrapping around my waist tightly.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth. I moan softly, pressing myself against him, feeling the heat of his body against mine. For a moment, all thoughts of being nonchalant fly out of my head as I lose myself in his embrace.

As the kiss deepens, I can't help but notice how different it is from any other kiss I've had before. His lips are firm and confident, yet tinged with a hint of gentleness that I can't quite place. It's like he knows exactly what he's doing, and he's using it to his advantage. He's a far better kisser than any of the guys I've dated in the past, and I find myself getting lost in the sensation of his mouth on mine.

He breaks the kiss, but only to move his attention to my neck. His lips trail down my jawline, his teeth nipping at my skin as he sucks lightly at my pulse point. I tilt my head back, exposing more of my neck to him, unable to stop myself from letting out a soft moan.

He grins against my skin, his hands moving to my hips as he continues his assault on my neck. He kisses and sucks at the sensitive skin, his tongue darting out every now and then to tease me. His fingers dig into my hips, pressing me against him tightly, and I can feel the heat of his body through our clothes.

He pulls back from my neck for a moment, looking up at me with a sly smile. “Jump,” he says, his voice a low command. Before I can protest, he taps my thighs, signaling me to jump.

Without thinking, I obey, jumping up and wrapping my legs around his waist. He catches me easily, his hands moving to support me under my thighs, holding me tightly against him.

He moves quickly toward the stairs, carrying me with ease. His hands grip my thighs tightly as he ascends the stairs, his strides purposeful and assured. I wrap my arms around his neck, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves.

We reach the top of the stairs and he turns down the hallway, stopping in front of a door at the end. Without breaking stride, he pushes the door open and carries me inside, kicking it shut behind us.

The room is dimly lit, with a king-size bed in the center. He walks over to it, still holding me in his arms, and lowers me down onto the bed. I sink into the soft comforter, my heart racing as he hovers over me, his eyes roaming over my body.

He leans down, his body pressing against mine, his weight pinning me to the bed. He kisses me hungrily, his hands roaming over my body, tracing the curves of my hips and sides. I kiss him back just as eagerly, my fingers tangling in his hair as I arch up against him.

He breaks the kiss, his lips moving down to my neck again. His hands reach up to the hem of my shirt, pulling it up over my head, exposing my bare skin to him. I shiver as his fingers trace patterns on my stomach, his touch sending jolts of electricity racing through me.

He moves down, kissing and nipping at my collarbone, his hands moving to unclasp my bra. I arch into his touch, my breath coming in short gasps as he worships my body with his mouth. He lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine as he pulls the bra off and throws it aside.

His gaze wanders down, taking in the sight of my bare chest, his pupils dilating as he takes in the sight of me. He licks his lips, his hands roaming over me once again. He touches me like he owns me, like he has the right to, and I find myself craving more of his touch.

He kisses his way down my body, his lips moving over my breasts, his tongue swirling over my nipples, making me gasp and arch up against him.

Chris's lips continue to trail downwards, his hands moving to my waistband. With a gentle tug, he slowly pulls my pants down, revealing my underwear. His breath hitches as he takes in the sight, his desire growing stronger.

With my fingers grazing the hem of his black hoodie, I slowly help him take it off, revealing his toned chest beneath. I can't help but run my hands over his bare skin, my touch sending sparks through his body.

As the hoodie comes off, I take a moment to appreciate the sight before me. His muscles tense under my touch, and I can feel his breath hitch as I trace my fingers over his chest.

I get up from the bed, my eyes locked on his. Using all my strength, I pull him up, and we stand there for a moment before I reach for his pants. Slowly, I begin to undo them, the sound of the zipper filling the room.

His pants fall to the floor, leaving him in just his boxers. I push him gently onto the bed, making sure he lands with a soft thud. As he lies there, I kneel in front of him, my hands moving to the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxers.

With a gentle tug, I pull down his boxers, revealing his erection. My eyes widen at the sight, and I can't help but let out a soft moan. His cock is hard and pulsing, begging for attention.

“Mmm, look at you,” I whisper, my hot breath caressing his sensitive skin. “So hard and ready for me. Do you want my mouth on you, baby? Do you need me to suck that big, thick cock?”

“Fuck, yes,” he groans, his hips bucking up towards me involuntarily. “I need your mouth, baby. Suck my dick, make me cum on your tongue.” His words are dripping with lust, and I can feel his desire radiating off him in waves.

I waste no time, leaning in closer and taking his throbbing head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it as I suck. He moans loudly, his hands moving to tangle in my hair as he thrusts his hips up, trying to get more of his cock into my mouth.

“Oh, shit, yeah...just like that,” he grunts, his breathing heavy and labored. His fingers tighten in my hair, pulling slightly as he rocks his hips against my face. “Oh fuck,” he whimpers, his legs shaking as I continue to suck him off. I can feel him getting closer and closer to the edge.

I pull back just enough to tease him, then sink back down, taking him all the way to the root. He cries out in pleasure, his hips bucking wildly. “Holy fuck, Ma,” he groans, starting to fuck my mouth, unable to control himself any longer.

He starts to thrust into me harder and faster, using my mouth like a personal fuck toy. I gag and choke as he plows into me, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful stroke. “Ah, fuck yeah, take it all!” he growls, his eyes blazing with raw animal lust.

With a roar of primal pleasure, he slams into me one final time, his cock erupting deep in my throat as he unleashes a torrent of hot, sticky cum. I feel it pulsing and spilling over my tongue, the salty taste of him filling my mouth.

As he finishes, he slowly pulls out, his softening cock slipping from my lips with a wet pop. Gasping for air, a string of saliva and his cum connecting my mouth to his spent erection. His chest heaves as he looks at me, his eyes still glazed with lust.

He picks me up effortlessly, his strength still present and impressive, and lays me onto the bed. He then kneels between my legs, spreading them open with ease. Without a word, he yanks off the last piece of my clothing, throwing it aside carelessly with a flick of his wrist.

He smirks at me from his dominant position, admiring the view before he leans in and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard and tugging at it with his teeth. He watches my reaction, gauging how rough or gentle he should be.

Encouraged by my reactions, he moves lower, kissing and nipping his way down my body. He settles between my legs, his hot breath tickling my sensitive flesh. Without further hesitation, he dives in, his tongue lapping at my pussy, eager to taste my arousal.

“Oh no you don't, Ma,” Chris murmurs, shaking his head when he sees me closing my legs instinctively. He gently pushes them open again, keeping them spread apart. “You're going to take it,” he commands, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Like this,” he says, before he dives back in, his tongue delving deep into my core. He laps at my pussy, sucking and flicking my clit with expert precision. I gasp and writhing under his ministrations, the pleasure building inside me with each passing second.

Chris continues to feast on me, his tongue never leaving my pussy. He eats me out with reckless abandon, making sure to hit all my sweet spots. My moans fill the room as I lose myself to the pleasure, my hips bucking against his face.

His tongue continues to work its magic, his fingers joining the fray. He slides one finger inside me, then two, stretching me open as he curls them upwards, finding the rough patch on the front wall of my pussy.

Once he finds that sensitive spot, Chris focuses his attention on it, rubbing and stroking it with his fingers. He sucks my clit between his lips, drawing it into his mouth and flicking the tip of his tongue against it. The pressure builds inside me, my orgasm just out of reach.

He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, smirking at me. He stands up, pulling my legs up with him until my knees are by my chest.

“Oh my god...” I breathe, my eyes widening as I take in the sight before me. Chris stands tall, his erection jutting out proudly, thick and long. It's clear it's not going to fit, not without some serious effort on his part. “Look at me,” he growls, positioning his cock at the entrance of my pussy. I look down, taking in his length and girth. “It's not going to fit,”

“It'll fit,” Chris grins, seeing the look of apprehension on my face. “Just relax.” He uses his thumb to rub in circles on my clit, trying to distract me as he slowly starts to push in.

“Good girl,” Chris praises, feeling me start to relax around him. He takes it slow, inch by inch. “You're doing so well, baby. Just keep breathing, and when it hurts too much just tell me to stop.”

“That's it,” he says, his voice a low rumble as he sinks deeper inside me. “You're so tight, I can barely move.” He pauses, letting me adjust to his size. “Breathe through it. It'll get easier.”

“Atta girl,” Chris coos, his voice soothing. “Just like that. You're doing so good for me.” He slowly starts to fuck me again, inch by inch, watching my face as he does so. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

Chris' thrusts start to get deeper and faster as he gets more into it. “You like that, baby? You like the way I feel inside you?” He starts to pound me harder, using one hand to grab at my breast and tweak my nipple.

Chris smirks at the look of pleasure on my face. “You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you, Ma?” He starts really pounding me then, hard and fast. His other hand grabs at my thigh, pulling it up so he can go even deeper.

I moan his name, unable to help myself as I feel pleasure building up inside me. “Chris,” I gasp, my voice breathy. He grins at the sound, loving the way it sounds coming from my lips. “You're so fucking hot when you say my name like that.”

I reach up and grab onto Chris' bicep, holding on for dear life as he continues to fuck me hard and fast. He grunts in approval, loving the way it feels having me hold onto him like that. “That's it, baby,” he growls. “Hold onto me.”

Chris pulls out of me, grabbing onto my hips as he turns me around. He positions me on all fours before thrusting back into me from behind. “Oh fuck,” I moan, feeling him fill me up once again. Chris starts to fuck me harder than before, using my hips for leverage.

Chris grabs my wrists, pushing my hands behind my back as he arches my back. I feel his cock throbbing deep inside me as he starts to pound into me harder. “Look at that ass,” he groans, his voice low and gravelly with lust. “So perfect for me.”

Chris takes advantage of my moan, thrusting harder and deeper into me. He knows he's found a weak spot and decides to milk it. “You like that, baby?” he taunts, smacking my ass hard. The combination of pleasure and a little pain sends me reeling.

Chris chuckles darkly at my breathy moan. “That's it, baby. Take it.” He continues to pound into me relentlessly, the bed creaking beneath us. I can feel his balls slapping against my clit with every thrust, sending jolts of pleasure through my body.

Chris smirks, enjoying the power he has over me. He picks up the pace even more, the bed shaking as he fucks me harder. “You're such a good little slut for me,” he growls, reaching around to rub my clit. “You love getting fucked like this, don't you?”

Chris leans over me, his breath hot against my ear. “Tell me what you want, baby. I'll give it to you.” I gasp, my hips bucking back against him. “You want my cock deeper? You want me to make you cum?”

“Yes, please,” I whimper, my voice strained with pleasure. “I need it... need you deeper.” Chris grunts, his hips snapping forward to oblige. He's so deep now, I can feel him touching my cervix with every thrust.

Chris's thrusts become erratic, the bed shaking beneath us. I can feel his cock swelling inside me, his balls drawing up as he prepares to cum. “Fuck, Ma,” he groans, driving into me one last time and stilling.

Chris pulls out with a wet pop, cum spilling out of me and onto his black sheets. He looks down at the mess with a satisfied smirk before leaning over me again. “Ride me,” he whispers, his voice husky with desire.

I straddle Chris's hips as he lies back, his cock hard and ready beneath me. I lift myself up and sink back down, grinding against him roughly. “Mmm, fuck yes,” he moans, grabbing my hips to meet my movements.

I line myself up with his cock, slowly lowering down onto him with a loud moan. He's so big, filling me up completely and stretching me deliciously. “Oh fuck,” I gasp as he reaches up to squeeze my breasts.

I start riding him, my hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm. Chris's hands are all over me, touching and caressing every inch of my skin. “That's it, baby,” he murmurs, his eyes dark with desire. “Ride my cock like a good girl.”

Chris's hands grip my hips tightly as I bounce on top of him, his cock hitting deep inside me with each thrust. “Oh fuck, you're so tight,” he groans, his eyes locked on mine. “Take it all, Ma, milk my cock dry.”

“Mmmm, yes... so deep,” I moan, my head thrown back as Chris's cock fills me up. He's hitting all the right spots, making me whimper with pleasure. “Harder, Chris, please... I need it harder.”

Chris's hands grip my hips even tighter, pulling me down onto his cock over and over again. I can feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, my moans growing louder and more desperate. “Fuck, yes... you're gonna make me cum,”

I lean forward, my breasts pressing against Chris's chest as I ride him harder and faster. My nails dig into his skin as I hold on for support, my body trembling with the force of my movements. “Don't stop, please... I'm so close,” I pant, my voice ragged with need.

Chris's hips slam up into me, meeting my own thrusts as we race towards the finish line together. His hands are all over me, touching and caressing every inch of my skin. “Cum for me, baby... cum all over my cock,”

Still buried deep inside me, Chris suddenly flips us over, pinning me beneath him as he continues to thrust into me relentlessly. “C’mon I know you can keep going, baby... don't even think about catching your breath,” he growls, his eyes dark with lust.

Chris reaches down, grabbing hold of my wrists and pinning them firmly above my head as he pounds into me relentlessly. The feeling of being completely at his mercy only adds to the intensity of my pleasure, and I moan loudly, arching my back as he fucks me hard and fast.

“Please, Chris, don't stop... I need this, need you,” I plead, my voice desperate and breathless. I'm completely at his mercy, unable to move my hands or break free from his grip as he continues to take me with a force that's almost brutal. “More, harder...”

The chain around Chris's neck keeps hitting against his chest as he pounds into me, adding an extra layer of stimulation that has me begging and moaning loud enough to wake the dead. “Fuck me, baby, fuck me harder!”

With a primal snarl, Chris redoubles his efforts, slamming into me with a force that makes the bed creak and the headboard hit the wall. The chain around his neck clanks rhythmically against his skin as he takes me with a raw, animal intensity. “You like that, slut?”

The filthy words only spur him on, and Chris fucks me with reckless abandon, the chain hitting a staccato beat against his chest. I'm completely lost in the sensations, my mind fogged with pleasure as I scream his name over and over again.

With a sudden surge of power, Chris releases my wrist and pushes down on my stomach, forcing me to arch my back even more as he continues to thrust into me with wild abandon. The added pressure has me seeing stars, my orgasm building to a crescendo. “Yes, yes, yes... just like that!”

As I feel my climax approaching, I reach up and grab the chain around Chris's neck, pulling him down into a searing kiss. Our tongues dance wildly together as he continues to pound into me, the chain clanking against my breasts with each powerful thrust.

As our kiss deepens, I moan into Chris's mouth, the sheer intensity of our joining overwhelming me. “This is crazy... we just met and now I'm fucking you,” I pant against his lips, the words barely coherent in my lust-fogged brain.

Chris pulls back, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity as he gazes down at me. “You're mine now, Y/N,” he growls, his voice rough with desire. “I'm going to fuck you every way I can, whenever I want.”

“You're going to be my personal plaything, Ma,” Chris continues, his words dripping with dark promise. “I'll use your tight little cunt whenever I please, make you scream my name until your throat is raw. You'll be addicted to my cock, craving it morning, noon, and night.”

I can feel my orgasm building once again as Chris talks dirty to me, his words fueling the fire burning inside of me. “Do you like that, baby?” he asks, his tone taunting and dominant. “Do you like the thought of being my personal fucktoy?”

“Yes, Chris,” I cry out, arching my back as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside of me. “I'm your fucktoy, your slut, your dirty little secret. Do whatever you want with me, I'm yours.”

“I bet Matt hasn't even gotten to fuck this tight cunt,” Chris taunts, a smirk on his face as he thrusts into me, hitting me deeper and harder. “Tell me, Y/N, have you ever let him fuck you like this?”

I moan loudly, my voice high and needy, “No, just you. Nobody else has been inside me like this.” Chris chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating against my skin. “I guess I'm the luckiest person then, getting to claim this sweet little cunt all to myself.”

“Yes, Chris, yes!” I moan, my voice breathless with pleasure. Chris smirks, thrusting deeper into me. “Look at you letting me fuck the shit out of you for payment for an ounce of weed. You're such a dirty little slut.”

Chris leans down, whispering in my ear as he continues to thrust into me. “You like that, Ma? You like the way I fuck you hard and slow, making you take every inch? Fuck, you're so sexy, so perfect.”

Chris lets out a deep, guttural groan as my nails dig into his back. As if unable to resist, he leans down and starts leaving bite marks along the sensitive skin of my neck. I gasp at the sudden flash of pain, followed by an even more intense wave of pleasure.

Chris' thrusts become erratic, and I can feel him tensing up as he reaches his climax. “Fuck, I'm gonna cum,” he growls in my ear.

I moan out his name, “Chris!”, as the intense pleasure overtakes me, my vision blurring and stars exploding behind my eyelids. Chris' thrusts become frantic, his cock pulsing inside me as he fills me with his hot cum.

Chris collapses on top of me, both of us gasping for air as the aftershocks of our orgasms ripple through our bodies. He nuzzles into my neck, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. “That was incredible, baby,” he murmurs, his voice husky with satisfaction.

“I bet you do that with every girl who comes here to buy from you,” I say, trying to catch my breath. Chris chuckles, a low, intimate sound. “You're the first, actually,” he admits, his fingers trailing down my side. “Let's keep it that way” I said, looking down at him.

Chris smirks, leaning in to capture my lips in a searing kiss. His tongue dances with mine, the taste of sweat and sex filling my mouth. As we break apart, he whispers, “I'll make sure of it.”

Chris slowly pulls out of me, a satisfied smile on his face as he admires the sight of my naked body, covered in the marks of our passionate encounter. He reaches over to his nightstand, grabbing his phone and angling it to capture the perfect shot. “Damn, you're beautiful like this,”

“Chris!” I protest, cover my chest with my arms as he snaps a photo. He chuckles, setting the phone down and hovering over me, his eyes full of desire. He pulls me into a kiss, his hand sliding down to rest on my thigh possessively.

Chris trails his lips down my neck, pressing kisses to the bite marks he left earlier. I arch my back, a moan escaping my lips as he touches me again. “I won't show anyone, I promise,” he murmurs against my skin. “Just a little reminder of this moment.”

Authors Note: Sorry this took so long, literally fell asleep twice typing this but thank you for 100 followers!! Hope you all are having a good day/night <3 (might turn this into a book who knows🤷)

© CYBERL6VE

[bilhanabipolar]

Batlantern where they are openly dating but no one believes them.

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Hal, during some small talks at Watchtower : "You know, Bat, you can offer me some privileges."

Bruce : "That's called nepotism, Lantern. No."

Dick, the guest of honor today : "What's that about?"

Hal : "You know, lover privilege, husband favoritism, something, anything."

Dick, thinking about Bruce's past romance heartbreaks : "That's not nice to tease him with something insensitive like that."

Everyone else in the room : *nodding and humming in agreement*

Hal : "Huh?"

Bruce, as equally confuse : "Hn."

===============================

Tim : "You know him. He is kinda extra when it comes to his cover. You're attractive, you can score someone pretty easily even after this whole thing is over."

Hal, who just want to grab a glass of water from bats's kitchen : "... okay?"

===============================

Olliver : "He can't really tell when to stop joking sometimes, so don't be too hard on him. I'm sure you can hook up with someone soon to shut him up."

Bruce, doesn't even know where to start : *grunt*

===============================

Bruce, during an outing with Clark and Diana : "I wonder if my choice would annoy him or not."

Clark, sighing : "Bruce, I know you two don't have the best relationship, but you can't just keep pastering him with your whims."

Diana, nodding : "I don't know what kind of psychological warfare you're planning on him, but you need to not take it too far."

Bruce, who just wants to ask opinion on his choice of movie for their next date : "You two are unbelievable."

===============================

Hal : "I am not joking. I went to bed with him."

Barry : "Dude, stop annoying him. He will kill you one day."

Hal, frustrated : "I am telling you—!"

===============================

Billy, in his Champion form : "I truly believe we only kiss the people we love."

Hal, freaking out because Billy—out of all people—accidentally seeing them making out : "Look, I know this is not a professional way to use any room in Watchtower but—"

Billy : "You know, you two took the whole battering fiasco way too far this time."

Bruce, still internally shaking for not noticing Billy entering the room : "... you can't seriously believe that's what's going on."

Billy : "Hey. Wisdom of Solomon."

===============================

Damian : "That being said, we should treat Jordan with respect since he is willing to put up with Father's schemes."

Other bats : *agreed*

Bruce, just give up at this point : "This house is supposed to be the nest of a bunch of detectives."

[gremlingottoosilly]

kidnapper!Konig with a reader whos head over heels for him even tho hes been nothing but mean to her :( but then she growns on him so he finally gives in and cuddles with her one night

Konig, who is still conflicted about this whole kidnapping, is a girlfriend thingy. He hates how he has to resort to such matters as if he can't get a girlfriend without her being deadly terrified of him - he genuinely thinks he deserves to have a pretty girl fawn all over him simply because he is soooo cool and great in his imagination...it's obviously not right - but then again, not like you have any options. Your kidnapper is grumpy and always angry, but he doesn't force anything on you. Konig gets annoyed when you do not clean yourself, refuse to change clothes or abandon your food - and he has very strict discipline regarding these things. You will be fed forcefully; he will push food past your lips and force you to eat as much as you can - and then he will drag you up to his bathroom so he can spend tens of minutes washing you like a grumpy puppy, ignoring any of your attempts to fight. You shouldn't be like this, he thinks - clearly, there is a problem in your attitude, and he is willing to force you to like him. To tolerate him, at least. But...you don't really fight him. If anything, you're following him like a lost puppy and crave his attention - this is something that he is supposed to love but, somehow, he just...just doesn't trust you. Doesn't believe you nearly enough. You act suspicious to him and he doesn't want to get burned - so, he will not answer your pathetic attempts at taking initiative, and he will never allow you outside without him...but even grumpy men like him are getting softer with time. Even guys like Konig know that they shouldn't look a gifted horse in the mouth - he doesn't trust you and thinks this is all just a ploy to get him to set you free, but it's nice to have a loving girlfriend. He hugs you, he allows you to sleep with him sometimes - when you're tied up, of course. He will just drag your sleepy form into his bed one night, refusing to acknowledge it...but of course, you cling to him.

[intersexfairy]

it's been so hard for me as a trans man these past few years. unfortunately the internet has had a huge hand in that. i won't get into it too much from that angle, but i will tell you how i felt, and still feel.

i feel like the scum of the earth, a lot of the time. like im betraying women, like i can't be proud and happy. like there's something gross about me, irredeemable and unwanted. like my pain and joy don't matter. like i need to conform as much as i physically can - and run away from who i really am.

that led me down a really dark road. addiction, psych wards, suicidality, the whole nine yards. im 117 days sober today, and i'd be lying to you if i told you it's sunshine and rainbows. it's not. but it is so much better. im finally getting the clarity of mind to look at myself again, trying to discover myself for the first time.

that's scary as hell, but the good news is, if i reconnect with myself, things can get better. and you know what? i don't deserve that - i need that. being my true self isn't something i need to earn, or prove. it's something to be experienced and felt and valued. self-actualization is a human need.

so to any other trans men who have struggled with who they are, whether it expressed itself as it did in me or not, i want you to know you're not alone. you're not, and you shouldn't be. you are allowed to exist, just as you are, right here in this moment. all the things you've been through matter. all the things you've yet to experience matter. you matter.

our suicide rates are absymally high, and we need to stick together. all of us, not just trans men. there is family out there for us. we can find love and compassion and freedom and joy. and other people, whether online or not, cannot change that. the world is so much bigger than the hate that's out there. there's so much life to be lived.

there is so much love waiting for you. i hope you stick around to find it. i'd promise to be with you to do that, but i can't. i will tell you though, i will try my damned hardest to become my best self. not just for me, but for you. for you, for you, for you. i love you, man. and one day you'll love yourself too. so will i.

be as honest, open, and willing as you can. hold on tight to hope, even if only for the ride. one day you won't regret it.