#just tired and hot and sweaty and tired of that and working during that

[jesuistrestriste]

30s art donaldson tired af from tashi working him to the bone. so tired that he just wants to lay down but is also very horny cuz when is that man not and he asks reader “can you please just sit on my face” in a really quiet whimper or smth idk (i really just want to read about sitting on art’s face lol)

when art showed up at your door, sweaty and tired and flushed all over, you knew that you wouldn't be able to resist his pleas for attention. the exhausted, slightly defeated look in his pretty blue eyes had you weak all over. it was just no use.

he looked like a kicked puppy.

or maybe just a really over-worked man.

but that was beside the point.

you ushered him inside, cupping his face and cooing at him in all the ways you knew that he needed you to. he pouted. he whined. you could practically imagine a tail tucked between his legs. his coach must have really chewed him out during practice. he had been on a downward spiral in terms of his ability to win for the last few months. it had been rough, to say the least.

he kicked off his shoes and stumbled over to your living room floor, sitting down on the carpet where he opted to stretch his hamstrings. you sat in front of him and ran a hand through his damp hair. he leaned into your touch instinctually, and then buried his face into your neck as his hands slid to hold your lower back.

you embraced him and rubbed his back, hearing him let out little noises of contentment as your palms caressed circles over his aching body. you pressed a kiss to his neck. he tasted like salt and self-doubt, which was not unusual for him after he had just freshly come back from the courts.

he moaned softly against you and then his lips were on yours with a tender ferocity that he always carried. his tongue was eagerly slipping past your teeth to lick at yours, and then he was pulling you closer and furrowing his brows.

"Please," he whispered against your lips as he tilted his head to change angles. his dick was already hard. that's how easy it was for you to get him worked up.

"What-" you pause, kissing him deeper, "What is it?"

his hands gripped your hips.

"Can you please just sit on my face?"

you felt your body warm up instantly at the sound of his whimpered plea, like a bucket of hot spring water had been dumped over you, and you nod slowly against his lips.

within thirty seconds, he was laying flat on his back on your floor, and the clothing on the lower half of your body had been removed and tossed aside to unknown places.

you crawled up his form, and he watched your every move with bated breath, letting his fingers ghost over your body as you inched your way up to his mouth.

when you finally hovered above him on your bent knees, pussy just inches away from his desperate tongue, he immediately shuddered underneath you and looked up to your eyes with a look that begged you before he could even get the right words out.

"C'mon, please.." he moaned pathetically, hands now grasping at your torso and trying to pull you down to him.

you smile, biting your bottom lip.

"Ask me again."

his hips lifted up from the carpet, bucking into the air and affectively jolting the both of you. it was an accident; he didn't mean to. it was just that his mouth was watering and he was too fucking aroused to think properly.

"Will you sit on my face? Please?"

and with that, you lowered your wet core down to his mouth and relished in the way that he immediately groaned into you. his hands tightly held the back of your thighs as his lips suckled on your clit and his tongue lathed sloppily over your slick folds. his tongue darted in and out slowly from your hole, trying with everything in him to taste all that he possibly could.

you rocked your hips over his face, smearing his chin and the tip of his nose with your slimy arousal, but he couldn't have asked for anything better. he loved this. he craved this with everything in him. he wanted you to sit on him like this for however long you could stand it. he could die like this and be happy.

your orgasm built quickly thanks to his expert knowledge on what and where you liked to be kissed and tongued, and he let you gush over his face until you were shaking like a leaf. he gulped every drop down.

at the tail end of your climax, you felt his body shake below you, his eyes rolled back into his head as he gasped and murmured muffled words into your sopping cunt. you arch your back and pivot your body to look down at his form, and your eyes are instantly drawn to the wet patch soaking and growing over the fabric of his gym shorts.

he made you cum a second time after that. and then a third. and a fourth. your hands stayed tangled in his hair through each one, and you called out his name every time the waves of pleasure rushed through you.

even though you wanted art to feel better about himself in terms of his tennis career, there were certain.. perks to him feeling down about it. making you cum let him feel like a winner again, so you were going to ride this low-point of his for as long as you could. you knew he wouldn't mind.

[ijustwanttobegolden]

Hunger for love... and ex boyfriends.

In which venom eats your ex boyfriend and takes you to a rave. (Headcanons) (Warning: suggestive sexual themes)

🖤 You were the cute, sexy hot girl next door.

🖤 (quoted by venom) but Eddie definitely agreed.

🖤 your apartment from across the hall got boring and lonely from time to time and so you had no choice but to investigate the strange shenanigans that sounded from Eddies apartment during the late nights.

🖤 eventually you uncovered the truth. That eddie didn't live alone and to your surprise not just your average roommate.

🖤 you were in awe instantly from the moment you saw venom. Eddie never felt so relieved.

🖤 From that point onwards they became your bestest friends.

🖤 You became their angel.

🖤 always protecting you, always keeping you company, keeping you happy and keeping you safe.

🖤 all the while you supported them, gave them the love and support and nurture they both needed.

🖤 then they saw you in a different light.

🖤 it wasn't friendship they wanted now but love, all of it.

🖤 But the chances of that faded to nill when your douchebag boyfriend came along.

🖤 God knows where you found him, they thought. The trash maybe? Since the man boy himself was absolute trash. He was filth and infact treated you like it.

🖤 The rough nights of arguing, him going out and leaving you alone. All the times you cried or threw something in anger.

🖤 those nights were the hardest for Eddie and venom to control themselves. So many times they had to fight the urge to go over to your apartment and rip the guys head off.

🖤 Eddie was definitely the strongest out of them both. Trying to tame venom had him a sweaty mess, fighting all around the apartment.

🖤 "Eddie!" *Crash* "listening to them! She needs us!"

🖤 they hadn't heard from you for a whole week after that but that didn't stop them from keeping tabs on you.

🖤 they stalked your routine. 7am you would leave for work and by 7pm you were back home, dressed in something comfy and already heading down the street to get your daily dose of wine and chocolate from the 7:11.

🖤 they couldn't help but stalk. They missed you and they wanted to make sure you were okay and as much as it killed them, they knew it was best to give you space.

🖤 "how is she doing?" Eddie sighs as he looks up at Ms Chen with tired sad eyes. He was careful not to get caught by you as you left the store.

🖤 "a bit better today, she said she's in need of a good night out but her friends are out of town"

🖤 "Eddie!"

🖤 "No."

🖤 venom was not impressed. Surely Eddie would do anything at this point to cheer you up, even if it meant going out partying.

🖤 "i'm planning to bring her some flowers tomorrow, chill alright?"

🖤 okay so the flowers didn't work. You were absolutely heartbroken.

🖤 As much as it was for the best, no breakup is ever easy and flowers from a friend across the hall was not going to make things better right now. You were S A D.

🖤 You were moping about your apartment on your favourite night of the year. Halloween night.

🖤 No friends. No dressing up and no going out. Awful.

🖤 you wanted the heartbreak to stop. You wanted to be happy. You wanted Eddie and Venom. You felt like you had pushed them away.

🖤 until...

🖤 A knock at the door. And it was venom.

🖤 You look down the hall confused and then you realized. Halloween night. Venom would be disguised.

🖤 "No Eddie?"

🖤 "just us baby, we are going to a rave!"

🖤 Your heart jolted while excitement flushed through your veins. Partying with Venom was something you never thought you needed until now.

🖤 You chose the sexiest, revengeful dress.

🖤 A tight black latex dress that paired well with Venoms shiny form.

🖤 Venoms white, sharp smile was practically drooling. His white eyes gleaming at the sight of you.

🖤 you looked insane.

🖤 both matching, you strutted to the club like you owned the town.

🖤 the majority of the way venom carried you, throwing you around because he knew how much you liked the thrill.

🖤 feeling you squirm and hearing you giggle gave him a rush of joy, happy to have his angel back.

🖤 your smile faded when you came to a sudden halt, normally this meant Venom could sense something bad.

🖤 and it was.

🖤 in fact it was badder then bad.

🖤 it was your ex boyfriend.

🖤 Venoms veins and tentacles pulsed with anger when he witnessed him. Sneaking around in a nearby alley with a girl.

🖤 bad timing for the ex, let's just say.

🖤 There was no trying to calm Venom, beg or distract him from what you knew he was going to do.

🖤 might as well just enjoy it.

🖤 As if venom could read you for a moment he held back as you strutted towards your traitor of an ex.

🖤 As you got closer you came to recognize he was with the girl he denied cheating on you with.

🖤 venom sensed this and he was raging.

🖤 all the more satisfying.

🖤 your ex couldn't believe what he was seeing. You, out of nowhere, strutting over in stiletto heels and the sexiest outfit. The Douche bag was already regretting his choices.

🖤 "wow, um.."

🖤 He was nervous. So he should be.

🖤 of course you gave a little speech of hatred all the while expressing how much he broke you.

🖤 This was only fueling the fire for Venom. Nobody hurts him and Eddie's girl and gets away with it.

🖤 You never thought it would make you feel better seeing Venom eat your ex but it did.

🖤 Best alien ever.

🖤 He licked the blood from your cheek that splattered onto your face in the process.

🖤 In a way that was also his kiss to you. A kiss to make it all better and that you were safe and with him now.

🖤 Okay so the rave afterwards. INSANE.

🖤 like the best night ever.

🖤 Everyone looked amazing in their costumes but it was you and Venom who stood out the most.

🖤 The lights reflected off the black shininess of you both.

🖤 You both glistened and moved together like silk as you swayed and grinded together.

🖤 you don't believe me when I say everyone was OBSESSED.

🖤 the sexiest couple.

🖤 it got hot at the rave. The heat was rising.

🖤 There was so much tension.

🖤 venom was completely moulded to you

🖤 his mind racing with the wildest, nastiest thoughts of you.

🖤 Eddie was really missing out.

🖤 Eventually you got tired.

🖤 Both craving chocolate and the warmth and comfort of Eddie.

🖤 Venom effortless races home with you, tentacles wrapped around you tightly and protectively.

🖤 your heart races. It always does when being carried away by Venom.

🖤 Eddie did manage to get a glimpse of you in that sexy black latex dress.

🖤 WOW. No words. Only stutters.

🖤 and if you weren't fresh from a heartbreak he would of taken you right there and then.

🖤 Venom licks his lips at the racing thoughts he could read of Eddies.

🖤 You decided you wanted to stay over for the night.

🖤 Though Eddie and Venom didn''t give you much of a choice.

🖤 Before you knew it you were already draped in one of eddies comfy oversized vacation T-shirts.

🖤 and cuddled up on the sofa in Eddie's warm strong and reassuring arms.

🖤 you snuggled into his chest, breathing in his sent. Home.

🖤 Eddie plants a sweet lingering kiss to your head, Happy to finally have you in his arms. Where you belong.

🖤 venom was now at bay inside of Eddie, resting from the eventful night of eating ex boyfriends and partying.

🖤 but that didn't stop him from slithering out some tentacles from eddies rib cage to wrap tightly around you also.

🖤 you might be their angel but they were also yours.

🖤 Eventually you staying over become a regular thing.

🖤 And the next time you wore something sexy Eddie and Venom wasted no time in devouring you.

🖤 eventually they had your love. All of it.

🖤 and you did theirs.

🖤 real love.

🖤 man you were all hungry! 🤍

[biteyoubiteme]

Omg congrats on 1k!!!

Soobin in the killa and gbgb performances have been killing me lately.. 🫠🫠 can i request a fic where reader goes down on him after his performance for either of these songs? Seriously never wanted to drop to my knees and suck a dick this badly in my life before this man 😵‍💫

baby, now, now, now, now

soobin x gn!reader

synopsis: he just looks too hot after a performance.

warnings: 🔞!!! oral (m!rec) prob forgot some sorry

wc: 1k

an: thank you so much! it was actually so hard to pick between gbgb and the killa for this lol but these photos spoke to me and picked themselves out. I go crazy watching these performances so I get you on a deeply personal and spiritual level okay and I rewatched the killas stage so many time to get inspo for this and omfg thank you for this ask I love watching that stage. but I hope you like this! not proofread forgive me sweet angel im forever indebted to you

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

It was not the first time you’ve seen the performance but it was the first time you’ve been there in person. This was entirely different from all the practices you’ve sat in on, every misstep followed by yeonjuns guidance, the soft laughs shared between the people in the room aiding the relaxed feel of the studio. 

But here, sitting in the little private suite overlooking the stage you’re at a loss for words. No one should look that hot on stage, not even your own boyfriend. Maybe it’s the lights that hit soobin just right, the way they keep catching his hair; shiny with sweat. The big screen zoomed into every detail, black tank top stuck to his skin, his bicep flexing just enough to make the wrap around his arm look as if it would pop off from the force. 

It’s enough to make the crowd go wild, the echoing cheers and screams louder than you imagined them. Every single one of them fawning over the way he looks, the way he moves, so in sync with yeonjun. It's almost impossible not to keep your eyes trained on soobins hips. Shirt cut just long enough to reach the waistband of his pants, just short enough so that every time he moved his arms or rolled his body it lifted up, exposing his midriff. Watching them dance during practice, Soobin was mostly dressed in sweats and a hoodie, unbothered by appearances when no one was around to see. Now here it's the opposite, your mouth watering at the way he's moving. 

You're familiar with the way his hips move without anyone around, here with everyone watching it only makes jealousy bubble up for a second. And when he stretches back, arms above his head, so much of his skin on display for the camera to catch. It was addicting to witness. 

When the two of you finally met backstage soobin couldn't tell if you were angry or tired. Never did he expect you to lead him over to the nearest dressing room, the lock twisted before you pushed him against the door. 

“I'm all sweaty,” he chuckles, hands instinctively on your body already, head rolling back as he lets you kiss up his neck. 

“I don't care,” you mutter, hand reaching down to palm him over his pants. 

It took very little for him to get hard when it came to you. Just knowing you were watching him set his nerves aflame, but he worked so well under the slight pressure. He knew what got to you, knew the possibility of this very thing happening now, he could scope your neediness as easily as he could his own, both of you tethered together in that department just fine. 

When you got down on your knees before him, fumbling with the button on his pants, he was whimpering, and already praying no one would walk past and hear him. The second you got your hands on him he was moaning in the back of his throat, pursing his lips as if that would help any with the sound. 

You don't even have to work to build up any spit, your mouth watering on its own just having his pretty cock in front of you. Your thumb rubbed over his slit, spreading the beading precum around his pink tip. “You looked so good out there,” you say in between kisses along his shaft, “performing so well I couldn't stop thinking about sucking you off,” 

You trace your fingertips across his veins, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath he takes. “You sounded so pretty on stage, will you make sure to let me hear you while I make you feel good?” 

He doesn't even get to finish his nod before your mouth is on him, so hot and wet he can't help the moan that leaves him. You hum in response, the vibration traveling up his spine and down his knees. He could buckle under the feeling alone, your free hand not circling what does not fit into your mouth is wrapped around his balls adding enough pressure to make him see stars. 

Reaching out to the door handle for leverage, he needs anything to keep himself up, his head rolling back as you try to take him deeper down your throat. Even just the wet sounds of your working mouth makes his thighs tremble. 

You move to pull away for only a second, enough so that you can go back to using both your hands when he pushes his hand into your hair. “No please don’t stop,” he whines pushing you back down onto his cock. You give a muffled yelp that has him moaning when he hits the back of your throat, so slick with your saliva he pumps in and out of your waiting mouth with ease. You don't even care about not breathing, on the cusp of just about to choke and pure bliss as he uses you. His hips work just as well as you knew they would, your hands wrapping around his thighs to help keep yourself still for him as he thrusts. 

He's a mess of whimpers as he feels his orgasm build, your nails digging into the fabric of his pants, “oh god- I’m about to cum- I’m- I’m cumming- I’m-” he lets your head go as he cums, body slumping against the door as his cock twitches on your tongue, mouth flooding with his release, the saltiness so familiar to you as you swallow.

When you pull away his cock is slick with your spit, rivulets still connecting you to him as you giggle. You give him a few loose tugs, his hips jerking back at the stimulation to his sensitive tip where you place light kisses. 

He reaches out to brush his thumb across your cheek, tracing it down to rub at your just fucked red lips. “You're so good to me, what did I ever do to deserve this mouth?”

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! also a little thank you to @beomiracles for looking at this and not letting me set myself on fire over it

[luigilore]

lovefool- l.m

info: luigi mangione x (fem) reader, NSFW, toxic ex situationship, reader is a ballerina, 5.6k wc

(a/n: this is entirely, entirely fiction! nothing i write reflects anyone irl. this should be obvious but i want to make that explicitly clear. if this upsets you, please do not read! you can also block me!)

Today was a bad day. That’s your excuse.

You were harshly critiqued during a private practice with your ballet master; tired and nervous and falling out of your turns that you know you should be executing perfectly. The upcoming performance of Coppélia is your first role in the main cast after five years with the company– after years of competing with the other dancers to get ahead. It’s your first chance to truly impress and cement yourself as an integral and regular part of the cast; so you stay too late at the studio, continuing to sacrifice after years of dedication, for a flickering chance of success that was never quite guaranteed.

You hate thinking, hate admitting that the added rehearsals and endless criticism was getting to you. It was unnerving knowing your teachers were watching to see if you could deliver the perfection that was undoubtedly expected of you. You're trying, but lately, for the first time in a very long time, you’re not sure if you can truly handle the pressure. 

Your calf hurts, it’s constantly throbbing and hot, and you’ve already spent too much time with the physical therapy team this week. Your feet are blistered and hurting– even more than usual, and you’re sick of the almost daily ice baths and the uncomfortable compression sleeves you have to wear to bed. 

Every night you dream of being on stage, in front of a full crowd and the hot, blinding lights. You dream of faltering, of forgetting choreography as a pressure in your chest builds and you wake up suddenly; sweaty, scared, and alone. It only motivates you to stay longer at the studio, falling into the routine of neglecting everything except dance, of neglecting yourself and your friends, trying not to think about all of the accumulated unanswered texts. 

It’s past ten by the time you leave the studio tonight, pouring rain and you realize he forgot an umbrella. You are tired, hungry, and admittedly, unashamedly, want Luigi. You want Luigi’s nice, warm apartment, his strong arms and sweet words, and the hot food he would make, always insisting you eat after practice.

When you were dating, you always felt like Luigi was almost too good to you. He would come to your shows with ridiculously big bouquets of flowers and deep kisses that would always embarrass you, trying to pin you against the wall of the empty dressing room just because he could. Luigi was devoted and intentional and kind; aware and always touching you, smiling at you, hugging you, fucking you. He would always ask you to stay afterward too, would always let you roll around in his big king-sized bed. 

Luigi was good for you in a lot of ways; he would massage your legs and arms when you were sore and he would cook for you after you came back from a long four-hour rehearsal; when usually before you would just eat half of a protein bar and crawl into bed. He would whisper constant reassurances and praise because Luigi knew ballet has always been important to you and self criticism has always been too easy for you. 

Ballet has always been the center of your life. You had spent your entire childhood working towards a future career in dance; worked hard for years, for so long, for hours every day in practice rooms, in competitions; sacrificing so much. All for ballet. 

For a long time, New York City Ballet seemed like a ridiculous pipe dream with a slim chance of becoming reality. You stayed in crowded and uncomfortable New York apartments for two years before you were offered an apprenticeship and then finally became a part of the corps de ballet two years ago. 

You yourself orbit around your career in ballet; your only friends are fellow dancers in the company and you're at the studio almost everyday. You have class six days a week and rehearsals on top of that for the seasonal ballet that’s performed four times a week.

In ballet, in that perfect and beautiful world, you have so much. You have accomplished a lot for your age, even if you didn’t like to acknowledge your impressive list of achievements and talents. You are dancing for one of the most prestigious companies in the world and have been praised by your ballet master, by your peers, and teachers for your talent and dedication. 

In ballet, you are seasoned and you are assured and strong. You know who you are on stage and who you are meant to be. But outside of ballet, in the other, crueler world that you don't understand, you aren’t totally sure who you are, what or who you were for. 

In real life, off stage, when you left the studio after practice, you really didn’t feel that strong. Sometimes you don’t feel that strong at all. And a lot of the time, You just want to love. 

You want to love and trust like the cheesy dramas you watched with your grandmother as a child. The dramas with the woman that always got the strong and sweet man at the end, after all of the pain and pining, eventually the world would solve itself and it would always end in easy and simple love. 

You have always wanted to be in love. Through ballet, You learned how to feel and express love, romance, and a range of emotions, and portray all of them silently. Because of that, because of the love you have for ballet and because of the love you routinely express, you have always thought that you would be good at loving someone else. 

You wanted it so badly, so much that it hurt; so much that you would lie awake at night in your small twin bed, against your scratchy, cheap sheets and would imagine stronger arms around you so you could finally relax and trust. You just wanted the warmth of someone else. It always got so cold– alone in your room, in your shitty apartment where you couldn't afford heat. Where you stayed before you woke up and went back to ballet, to your world. 

Luigi was immediately easy to love because Luigi was made to love. You met him through his college friend, another dancer. Luigi came to a matinee when both she and you were performing. Afterwards, she proudly introduced Luigi to you and his eyes stared into your own, bright and kind. He smiled widely and shook your hand. When you first met Luigi, you immediately wanted to love him. You just knew it would be so easy. 

When Luigi asked you out only a few days later, showing up with the guise of picking her up from rehearsal; he was shy, like he had never done this before. You liked that, you wanted to be the only one Luigi could even consider loving. He took you to a fancy restaurant that week, one that you had never been to, and from then on, it was too easy. 

“It’s because Luigi is loaded,” your friend had said once– and that wasn’t true. Luigi was comfortable but that wasn’t why you loved him. Luigi was everything you thought you would never really have because it was too good, it was almost too much love. 

Luigi would massage your aching legs and shoulders and praise you quietly, with small smiles and gentle reassurances. Because without you confiding in him, he knew what you needed and he wanted you to feel loved, to feel like you deserved to be loved. You were so used to critique, to being judged in all aspects of your life. It was nice and you chased it and Luigi loved giving it. 

It was barely a year of being together before you excitedly moved into his apartment; it was an easy decision to leave your apartment with four other people that was always cramped and dramatic.

Luigi told you that you made him believe in love. You felt like that too, when you really thought about it. You liked being called pretty, liked being taken care of sometimes, of being held like you were precious. You didn't need it, but you liked it. You liked how Luigi fucked you slowly, how he would suck deep dark marks into your chest, and hold your head carefully to fuck his cock into your mouth, before pulling out and having you gasping for breath. 

But you eventually realized loving was hard sometimes. It was time-consuming. It was encompassing and overwhelming. Sometimes it would be all you could think about, you would fall out of turns because you were thinking of the ghosting movements of Luigi’s arms and hands. It was all explosive and made you feel out of control and out of reach from reality. You could never decide if you loved it or absolutely hated it. Because you would be bubbling over with emotion, with needs and love that Luigi induced; coaxing it out of you so carefully. But then he would always eventually pull away— shut down and retreat, and it felt devastating.

It was intense. It was huge fights and then tearful, passionate making up, unfulfilled promises, and silent days when he would shut you out and then there were overwhelming, beautiful ones. Luigi told you it was hard for him, that he was trying really hard and you always felt guilty for coming home so late, for being too tired for the dates he wanted so badly to go on. 

Luigi was just possessive and determined, stubborn and passive. But he made you feel safe, like you could afford to miss practice because he felt more important than ballet and that terrified you– the thought that anything could ever come before ballet. You didn’t think that love should be scary.

It was like you forgot how to live without Luigi. You truly couldn’t remember what New York was like without him. Sometimes you didn’t have time for much else, not even ballet. You didn’t love dancing like you used to, you loved him, loved the idea of freedom instead of being in love with something that was so taxing and draining. Sometimes you couldn’t believe how backwards your entire life had been before meeting him. 

But when your ballet master pulled you aside one day and told you looked sloppy and distracted and that you needed to get it together or else there was a chance you would be out of the winter performance of the Nutcracker, You broke up with Luigi that night. 

 He only looked confused and asked if ballet meant more to you than he did. And in a mix of confusion and pure adrenaline, you obviously said yes. 

Luigi just stared at you, he didn’t look upset. Just empty. “You know I love you,” he said, voice flat and eyes looking at you with such silent intensity, eyes so harsh that you were almost intimidated. 

“I do,” He said, saying it so easily and it hurt for some awful reason. Luigi stared at you like he couldn’t possibly understand why you felt paralyzed and powerless. 

“I do,” he repeated coldly and then Luigi left his own apartment without looking back at you. 

It felt too sudden and easy and you selfishly and wrongly wanted Luigi to stay; to fight, to convince you, to do anything but actually leave. 

The next few days, you moved out of his apartment, quickly shoving your things in boxes while Luigi watched silently. 

But breaking up didn’t really help at all. It didn’t help that consuming love and persistent ache you felt. It was harder. Harder to concentrate during practice, harder to sleep, harder to make your own decisions, and hard to stop yourself from instinctively texting or calling Luigi. 

You really try but Luigi is hard to resist. He would text you, saying he was sorry and asking you to come over and you would be at his door in thirty minutes. You would block his number in fit of determination to move on and then he would email you that he loved you and that he wanted things to go back to the way things were. He was sorry for loving you, for loving him too much. Luigi said sorry for whatever he did wrong, for getting in the way and that real and true love sometimes does that– but that he still understands. He was always so sorry. 

You’re sorry too. And bored. You miss Luigi so much. You last thirteen days after the breakup before you’re at his apartment and your roommate checks his location and sends you a knowing ‘:(‘ while you were busy getting fucked against his stupidly nice granite kitchen countertop. 

You still try really hard to move on but you feel lost like you were now wondering about some impossibly changed world. It had been almost two years with Luigi now dramatically, you didn’t know how to go about not having him. You can only think of his good traits and you start to wonder why you even broke up with him; spiraling and laying on your bed with your calf hurting wishing he was there. Wishing it was easy. Thinking that it could be easy again. 

So you text him. And he responds immediately— like it always is.

hi 

Hi baby

are you busy rn? 

Waiting for Luigi to respond should give you time to think through this. To stop. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. You should be– used to be, better than this. Luigi was bad for you. Because it was too consuming, it was too much good. 

When he responds, You can’t help but smile. You hate the way you smile instinctively, you hate the way you love Luigi in such a consuming and uncomfortable way.

I’m free for you. 

Always.

Without him, you might be more productive, more efficient, and less emotional but there was a hole missing carved out and splintering in your heart. It felt stupid and poetic and dramatic, but without him, you just didn’t feel the same. Luigi was love and everything you wanted. It’s just complicated. It’s just sweet kisses, warm bodies, and the sweetest words. 

You still know the code to his apartment complex, Luigi never changed it. As you knock now, you manage to feel a little ashamed. 

He opens the door in a black shirt and gray sweatpants, hidden away from people who worked long days and nights, from the ballet studio where your limbs ached and where you were never good enough. 

It was just Luigi and his soft clothes and sweet-smelling fabric softener. You still love him so much that it hurts; you love that Luigi loves you, loves that he thinks you’re enough— more than enough. You like how secure you feel, and all the nice things Luigi says, and how pretty his life seems. You want a pretty life too, want beauty— and he is really beautiful. 

“Hi,” You say quietly, toying with the hem of your sweatshirt. 

“Hello,” Luigi says with a small, knowing, but sweet smile, crossing his arms. “Why are you here,” he asks, like you’re a complete stranger. 

You look down at the floor as you finally make yourself look into Luigi’s eyes, patient and waiting. “Don't make me say it,” you murmur, a quiet plea. 

Luigi leans against the door frame and purses his lips together and frowns, like you’re just not understanding each other, like you just don't get it. 

“I want you to, though. I want to hear you say it.” Luigi stands up straighter and looks at you directly, voice serious and almost cold, “I need to hear you say it.”

You shift and bite your lip; it was just one of his things. One of those things to feel in control, to feel like you needed him more. Because Luigi would always get caught up in these little things. It doesn’t mean anything. 

You look up at Luigi through his lashes and press your lips together in an obvious, exaggerated, stupid expression. “I missed you. I missed you a lot, Lu.”

Luigi’s expression softens immediately like it always does. “Oh baby,” He murmurs, “Baby, baby.”

He draws you into his arms gently, like you’re incredibly fragile and breakable and you think you might be. You shouldn’t like that, shouldn’t like being treated like you were so breakable and wounded but you liked it sometimes, very secretly. Maybe too much. 

“C’mere,” Luigi murmurs, leading you to the sofa. He runs a hand over your face carefully and he smells like his stupid expensive cologne that you still can’t totally wash out of your own clothes. “Bad day?” He asks quietly even though it’s incredibly obvious that it is. 

“Yeah,” You say with a rush of sudden self awareness and shame. “I probably shouldn’t–” You look down at his fingers twisted in your lap. “I shouldn't be here.”

Luigi comically frowns at that and knits his eyebrows like he doesn’t understand, “Why not?” 

You look up at him and try to look exasperated but you just sound tired and sad. “Because we’re not together.”

He looks at you like he doesn’t like you stating the obvious. He just tilts his head and smiles, obvious and kind of patronizing, hand coming to rub across your thigh. Warm and heavy. Because you go through this every time, you pretend or try to not want this and Luigi just smiles and sees right through it. 

“I still support you though, you know that.” He says, still with a smile.

“Yeah,” you sniff and don't try to say anything else. 

“Yeah,” Luigi agrees softly and it makes you smile, staring down at your own lap. His hand comes to cup your cheek, hand fitting perfectly holding your jaw, thumbing across your cheekbone carefully, it feels familiar and warm and comforting. 

“I just want to help you,” Luigi whispers. You aren't sure if you believe him but you want to so incredibly badly. You don't want help. You don't need help. But sometimes it’s nice to pretend. 

You look at Luigi, his pretty dark hair and long lashes. His sweet eyes that watch you carefully. It’s silent for a few moments, comfortable and familiar. In Luigi’s big and warm apartment. 

“Can I take care of you,” Luigi finally asks, looking at you patiently, sweet and quiet, and you nod quickly. 

“Yeah,” you whisper like it’s a secret- he makes you feel like nothing else matters except the two of you. It doesn’t matter that you aren’t together, that you could never truly work. Nothing matters at all. 

Luigi tugs you into his lap easily and his arms loop around you, warm and big. His hand cups your jaw and pulls you closer, tilting his own head to kiss your lips, soft and slow and bothered because he always has time. His hand fits in the curve of your waist and the other thumbs over your ear gently and it makes you shudder. His tongue in your mouth feels hot and heavy, barely pulling away to let you breathe but you still let your eyes shut and try to relax, trying to melt into his touch. 

It’s easy, Luigi smells like his usual Tom Ford cologne and you feel surrounded by it. His hand on your back thumbs over your skin under your shirt gently when he pulls away to look at you, face still so close to your own. 

“Do you want to,” he trails off and waits because he knows what you will say. Because you only want him, still. Even when he said he slept with other people, even when he went out of his way to tell you that. When he knew it hurt your feelings, when he knew your friends hated him. Luigi never cared, but he did care about you. 

It’s easy to nod. It’s easy to say yes and end up in his big bed with his nice sheets; comfortable and soft, on top of some ridiculously expensive therapeutic mattress. 

Luigi rolls on top of you, pushing his thigh against your sweatpants, surrounded totally by him as he braces his arms on each side of you, trapping you in a beautiful and comforting way. Your hand reaches up, running his fingers carefully through Luigi’s curls for some sense of stability. 

Your head is spinning and you feel desperate to belong to Luigi again. You lean up, rocking your hips and lick in Luigi’s mouth, sloppy and eager as he groans from your movement. 

You whine softly when he pulls away, still so close to his face, smiling and looking at you like you’re beautiful; you can feel it without him saying anything. He never has to say anything. 

Luigi rolls off of you, stripping off his hoodie and it feels unfair. After you broke up, he only started going to the gym more than he used to, using it as stress relief and enjoying the way he knew it drove you crazy. His shoulders are broad, muscular, defined and skin still soft and smooth; in just his boxers now, his broad shoulders, large biceps, and toned back. You feel almost sick with a horribly familiar and comforting love. 

Your hand runs down Luigi’s chest, trailing down his pec. He looks down, watching your fingers graze his tanned skin before grabbing your hand to pull him closer and back onto his lips. 

Luigi’s hand slides from your waist to tug at the waistband of your sweatpants, watching you carefully, like he’s waiting for you to realize that this is wrong; that this only makes it harder, that you shouldn’t be doing this. 

But you don't say anything as you pull them off of you, revealing your cotton underwear that you know Luigi likes. You sit up slightly so it’s easier for him but you grimace at the sudden pain in your left leg. Luigi stops when he sees your discomfort. “What, baby?”

“I’m just— I’m sore,” You mumble, blinking as Luigi frowns almost comically wide. 

“Is it your calf again? I told you you need a second opinion besides the company PT. They’re bullshit.” He nags, reminding you of all the nights he would run a bath for you and insist you soak in the tub with his luxury bath salts after rehearsal. You smile at the memory and at Luigi’s furrowed brows.

“I’m working on it,” You say and he looks unconvinced, like he’s about to lovingly lecture you but you don't want to think about your calf pain now— or about ballet at all. 

You instead lean up, hand resting on Luigi’s back and pull him down. He obliges easily and leans back over you, careful to prop himself up with one of his forearms, the other slides down your thigh, massaging and kneading the skin carefully. 

He continues silently, looking at you intently like just your presence is enough. You love feeling like enough. “I just love you so much, baby,” He murmurs, “Dunno what to do about it.” He nudges your nose with his own and kisses you gently as you circle your arms around his shoulders. 

“Just love me,” You whisper when you part, immediately hating how vulnerable you sound. 

“Okay,” Luigi smiles easilyand kisses you again, tongue hot and wet in your mouth, sucking and licking. He only pulls away to kiss your neck, sucking deep marks into your skin as evidence of the two of you, as a sad noise escapes from the back of your throat at the loss of his touch and warmth. He always loved proof of the night before on you, of marks you know you’ll have to put concealer over the next day. 

Your sweater comes off easily and Luigi coos, wrapping his arms around you, warm hands roaming over your body; one hand holding your waist and the other undoing your bra easily, both of his large hands coming to grope your tits. It feels nice, the attention, the want. “God,” he mumbles, almost to himself, staring at your body. But you never feel exposed under Luigi’s wandering gaze, it feels too loving and too real. 

“Hurry,” You jut out your bottom lip and Luigi laughs. 

“So cute,” He presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Patience, baby.”

He tugs your underwear off easily and you’re flooded with a sudden rush of excitement and familiarity. You wish that you could exist in this moment forever, when you don’t have to worry about anything else, when you can just exist because he thinks you’re perfect the way you are. You aren't sure if you deserve that but you want it forever.

He spreads your thighs gently, bringing you back to your present reality and watching your reactions, his long, warm fingers rubbing your inner thigh soothingly. He inserts one finger inside of you first carefully and you sigh, reminding once again how much you’ve missed this, him. You grip his bicep as one finger rubs at your clit and others curl inside of you. You feel a bit dazed, letting your body just feel. Luigi is always so concentrated, lip bit and eyes dark, focusing on his rehearsed routine; his firm body pressed so closely against your own, surrounding and encompassing. 

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, maybe more to himself and it makes you feel shy. “Luigi,” you laugh but it turns into a sound of surprise when you feel his cock rub against your entrance, wet and heavy.  

He glances down at you and is obviously affected as he lines himself up and finally pushes in wordlessly, no particular warning and no condom, like always. You like that it still feels the same between you two, like nothing ever changed. You gasp; even though you’ve taken him so many times, Luigi is big and it’s always an adjustment, but a good one. 

Luigi sighs like it’s something he’s addicted to, like it’s something he desperately needs. It’s unfair really. You love the way he looks, his hair has gotten longer even if the couple of weeks you had successfully refined from contacting him and he doesn’t shave as often now either, ever since you broke up. You love his parted lips, his obvious pleasure because of you. 

“Made to take me, made for me,” he mutters as you feel yourself nodding, he thrusts in an easy rhythm, gentle and slow. Luigi is never rough with you. “Let me know how good I make you feel,” he mutters, looking down at you, one hand coming to intertwine with one of your own.

“Lu, it feels, you feel, so good,” you say, looking up at Luigi through your lashes. But he’s quiet and you hate it.

“Say anything, please Luigi, please.” You look up at him with a horse whisper, “Please.”

“I love you,” He looks down at you and you know that he means it, he always has. Any internal anxiety that built up inside of you dispates and is replaced by something so good, something you always feels when he fucks you, when he’s is close to you, when he’s holding you firmly and carefully; when he is totally devoted to and concentrated on you. You love how much Luigi loves you. 

“It’s only you,” you say, like it's a secret but it’s really not, not to either of you. You say it because you know what it does to him. You watch Luigi's lips part slightly in realization before they curl up into a big grin. 

“Always?” He asks and you hesitate but you can’t say no, because when you think about it, it might be true. 

“Maybe,” you smile but when you really think about it, Luigi is right. He smiles too, knowingly, like he knows he’s right too. 

Moments like this make you wonder why you ever broke up with him. Luigi is the only one that you let fuck you and you come over regularly and you still love each other. You feel like you don't understand anything at all. 

You groan as Luigi thrusts faster and one of his hands comes to palm at your tits, thumbing across one of your nipples and making you squirm under his touch. The sensation makes you arch your back in sensitivity, only further into him. 

Luigi stares down at you like he’s done something beautiful and you subconsciously clench at the pleasure. “Fuck,” he grunts, forehead shining with sweat and abs tightening as he fucks in and out of you, the other hand’s grip tightening on your waist. 

“You’re still mine aren’t you,” he asks, thrusting roughly and you know his body enough to know that he’s close to coming from the way his eyes flutter shut and his cock throbs inside of you. 

You open his mouth to answer but Luigi takes his hand and instead presses two of his fingers into your mouth. You gargle around them, spit immediately running out— you feel so safe and loved.  You will say anything when Luigi asks like that, with that much conviction, when you’re this far gone. 

“Yes,” you breathe out when Luigi eventually removes his fingers. “Yes,” you repeat, reaching up to grab at his chest, tight and firm from years of exercise. You can feel his quickened heartbeat underneath your palm and you love that you’re the one making him feel good; it’s only you. It’s only each other. 

Luigi laughs, folding himself over your body to press his face close to yours, angling his hips in a way that he knows drives you crazy, making you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure“So cute and beautiful. So sweet,” he softly whispers into your ear. 

“And so strong,” Luigi continues and you like hearing that. You want to be strong so badly. You have always wanted to be strong. “My baby, You deserve everything,” he continues, “You deserve everything in the entire world.” 

You think about the upcoming audition and the role you desperately want, the critiques he got from his last performance. 

“Everything?” You whisper and his hand comes to wipe at a small tear threatening to spill down your cheek that you didn’t realize was there. 

Luigi looks at you with such sweet eyes and smiles like he’s endeared, “Of course.” The praise makes you feel loved, as he thrusts deeper and faster into you. He’s usually so controlled and precise with his movements and you notice he’s a bit desperate now, groaning unashamedly. It all makes you feel full and content and overwhelmed as you’re pushed over the edge. 

Your orgasm, the way you clench around him and throw your head back in pleasure all push Luigi over the edge, hands coming to grip your hips harshly as he holds you and fucks you, mouth open trying to remain in control when he’s obviously floundering, overwhelmed by you. You can see Luigi’s pleasure through your blurry vision. 

“Baby I’m going to, fuck—” Luigi groans, eyes squeezing shut and jaw clenching as he comes. 

You sniff and bite your lip when you feel his cum fill you.”Fuck,” You mutter, throwing your head back against the silk pillowcase. You stare up at Luigi, watching his chest rise up and down rapidly. 

“Baby, you’re so cute, always make me feel so good,” he whispers tenderly. 

“Don’t pull out, just, just—” You can barely talk, so overwhelmed and sensitive, “Stay.”

Luigi nods, bending over to press a kiss against your ear. “Of course.” 

You smile weakly, trying not to feel gross at the cum that you can already feel beginning to leak out of you. 

You feel exhausted and depleted, drained and satisfied. Luigi is all around you, thick arms moving to eventually hold you, laying over you but not crushing you, only pressing your bare bodies against each other. You don’t say much after and you eventually fall asleep to Luigi’s humming and his gentle massaging of your left calf.

-

You wake up feeling sore and exhausted, hit with the immediate realization that you have an eight am rehearsal today and it’s already 6:43 am. You roll out of Luigi’s arms carefully and silently, digging around for your discarded clothes and phone. 

Luigi wakes up at some point, sitting up in bed with his messy hair and rubbing his bleary eyes. He watches you with a pronounced frown, “You’re not going to stay?”

“I have rehearsal,” You say simply, preoccupied. You’re quiet for the next few minutes and Luigi is too, content with just watching you move around his room. But you’re already hit with the stress of getting dressed, catching the train, and rushing to practice to avoid being called out for being late, and the general dread of  the long day of practice. 

“I do love you, baby, I wish you would believe that,” Luigi says suddenly, looking at you. 

“I do believe you,” You whisper, tired and hurting.

It’s silent, Luigi almost looks small and susceptible in bed, sheets pooled around his toned and tan waist. Messy hair and sad eyes that stare at you. He tilts his head slightly, “You’ll text though right?”

You don't want to have this conversation now, maybe never. Especially afterwards, the day after, because it all seems pointless now, repeating the same things you both always say– that don’t mean much anymore. You just want to leave and go to rehearsal, and dance for hours until your legs feel numb and the exhaustion overrides any sense of want. 

You just smile weakly, “Probably.”

[icy-bluez]

Louder

Warnings: Smut fic, gentle sex, startled l&ds bois

Characters: Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel

Synopsis: You sneeze during sex, while they're inside you.

A/N: Inspired from a smut manga I forgot the name of.

Xavier

The night had gotten too heated too quickly. It began with gentle pecks on each other's lips after coming back from work, him tending to your bruises, doing your hair for you.

But now he was buried deep inside you rolling his hips back and forth, dragging out the movements making your eyes roll back into your head while he gripped the sheets like a lifeline. The room was silent except for the sounds of your lovemaking, occasional gasps and moans.

So when you started breathing in loudly, Xavier just assumed it was because of him making you feel good, too distracted to notice you were about to sneeze.

Lo and behold, you let out a mighty sneeze, moving your head to the side. The contractions of your vagina made Xavier let out a startled whimper followed by a deep groan as he came much too quickly than he usually does. His body shuddered on top of you for a couple moments before he looked up, sweaty and startled into your eyes.

"Mm..ah..What just-"

You burst out laughing, his cheeks flushed.

"I'm so sorry, I just sneezed.."

Xavier looked at you for a couple moments before leaning down to kiss your chest.

"We'll just have to go once again..."

Zayne

You were loud, really loud. Mostly because Zayne was just too good at doing what he was doing right now.

Blowing your brains out.

Your foreheads were pressed together, eyes closed, focusing only on each other's pleasure. His hips moved at a slightly frantic pace inside of you and you loved it, biting your lips at the feel of it stretching you out. When he got up onto his knees and thrust inside, you let out a startled gasp, eyes blowing wide open. Looking at him through lust clouded eyes, you saw an amused grin on his face.

You pulled him towards you and started kissing him, he obliged. Soon enough however you felt a sneeze incoming, gripping his sculpted arms you broke the kiss trying to convey it but couldn't, in time. You put your hands over your mouth instead. He thought something was wrong.

"Y/N..? Is something...Nngh..!"

He almost came, almost. Letting out a startled groan before putting his body weight on his elbows on either side of you, arms flexing.

"Did you just sneeze?" He asked, out of breath. You nodded, about to sneeze again, trying to signal that with your hand.

"Wait, wait, wait...!"

He did not make it out in time. He groaned loudly, right in your ear making you blush deep crimson. He gripped your body tightly as he came, shuddering and gasping. He did not like the fact that he came before you. When he came to, he looked at you with a ferocious, hungry gaze.

"Well, I must take my revenge for that." He says, voice and octave lower, right in your ear.

Rafayel

"You're quite bold, you know? Scandalous even." Rafayel says. Words muffled by the hot hand covering his mouth.

"You asked for it..." You say, continuing to bounce on his lap. He was deep inside you feeling warm and slightly numb. Rafayel threw his head back, his mouth open and eyes closed enjoying the pleasure as his hands grabbed your waist. Yours gripped his thighs, breasts bouncing in rhythm with your movement. When your thighs started feeling tired however, he grabbed your waist and buried his face in your shoulder.

"Are you alright? Want me to continue?" He questioned. When you nod, Rafayel laid you down on the bed, pounding into you with a passion. Your legs wrapped around his waist, digging into his back when you gasped feeling a sneeze incoming.

"R-rafayel...!" You start, unable to continue because of the dizzying pleasure. He probably did not hear you, lost in you as he was.

You let out a sneeze, in que Rafayel whimpers loudly, feeling his length being pressed harshly between your folds by the muscle contractions. You both come soon after that, grabbing each other as you come down from the high.

He looked at you questioningly, sweat dripping from his naked neck, lavender-blue eyes, bright and content.

You peeked at him from between the gaps of your fingers.

"I sneezed, sorry."

Both of you laughed gently, before Rafayel with bright red ears bites your shoulder and whispers-

"I wouldn't mind if you did that again."

ANTHOLOGY LIST

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[10:14 am]

(cw: pregnant reader, some cussing I think, pregnancy symptoms/discomforts)

You groaned as you continued walking. What would have been a beautiful day for anyone else felt awful for you, nearly 2 weeks overdue. The sun was shining brightly- which was making you hot and sweaty. There was a breeze- which wasn't strong enough to cool you down. The birds were singing- just more noise to piss you off.

"Come on, honey. Keep going, almost back home," Jaehyun smiled at you while his hands gripped your forearm.

You glared at him, fury in your gaze, "you better not be lying to me like the last lap around the block Jung Jaehyun."

Being nearly 2 weeks overdue was a major pain in the- everywhere. You back ached, you couldn't sleep, you felt every movement of the human inside you, you were hot, cranky, tired, swollen everywhere, and sore. You had spent hours bouncing on a yoga ball, eaten spicy food, chugged various teas, ate viral salads, and here you were, going on your- you lost count- walk since your due date. One foot remained on the curb of the sidewalk while the other stepped on the road for uneven steps to "really open your pelvis." Jaehyun was very supportive, maybe even a little too supportive, in helping you during this tough period. It was him that encouraged all this excessive movement! Lovely!

As much as you grumbled about it now, he truly had been such an angel your whole pregnancy. He had painted the nursery 4 times when you couldn't decide on a shade only to end up choosing the first color he had painted! He never complained about waking up to get you your fast food cravings in the middle of the night and even tried your weird combinations.

Finally your familiar front door came into view and you left Jaehyun's hold in favor of making your way back to your favorite spot on the couch. You sighed in relief as you settled into the cushions of the couch, the air conditioning quickly cooling you off.

"More raspberry leaf tea, honey? A date or some pineapple?" Jaehyun asked.

You sighed tiredly, your eyes falling shut. "Can I just get some peace and quiet please?" You asked quietly.

"Do you want a snack for your quiet time?"

You felt yourself getting overwhelmed, hot tears filling your eyes. You breathed deeply, trying to get yourself to calm down, but all you felt was your body temperature rise all over again as your feelings rose. Your breath trembled as you repeated, "Can I please just get some peace and quiet?"

Jaehyun scrambled over to you in a panic, "Honey! What's wrong?!"

You felt your shoulders shake as you cried harder. "I feel terrible! This baby was supposed to be out like 2 weeks ago. I feel like a hippo, I can't do anything by myself. I'm tired of raspberry tea and salads and dates and pineapple. And you always want me to be active and I hate it! It takes a lot of work for me move the way I used to with my center of gravity thrown off and an extra 30 pounds to move. I always feel the baby moving and even when I want to be alone, I'm not! I can't ever have any peace!" You ranted while hot tears streamed down your cheeks, "And every time we go to the doctor she always mentions that this kid has gotten you big ass head- do you have any idea how much damage a head the size of yours will do to my body?!"

Jaehyun looked at you in pure shock. His eyes were wide and lips pursed. "I-I-I don't know what to say." He didn't dare mention that the doctor had mentioned the high likelihood of a c-section.

"Because it's not happening to you! You don't get it and you want me to do everything the way I used to but I can't! And I really, really feel like if you try to touch me in any way for the next 3 days I will hire someone to kick you in the balls since I can't get my legs that high," you add while exhaling shakily, using the backs of your hands to wipe away at your tears.

Jaehyun cleared his throat with a decisive nod, "I'm gonna go shower. I'm closing the windows and turning down the air for you. Then I'm going to draw you a bath with your favorite bubbles. Can I get you anything else before I give you your peace and quiet?"

"I want an iced coffee, please."

Jaehyun opened his mouth to argue- you were supposed to be limiting your caffeine! Then he remembered the rant from a minute ago and decided not to. He disappeared into the kitchen, whipping up your coffee and setting it beside you along with the TV remote.

"Honey?" Jaehyun started almost nervously, "I love you."

You sipped your coffee happily, "I love you too!"

Jaehyun wasn't sure he'd get used to the mood swings that came with you being pregnant, but luckily they wouldn't last that much longer since you went into labor just 5 hours later. This of course brought a whole new wave of you cursing him and screams- but at least at the end of it all he got to welcome your beautiful baby girl.

[mybelovedwoo]

yunho as boyfriend, please 🩷🩷

The long-awaited yunho boyfriend headcanon is here!!!

jeong yunho as your boyfriend - headcanon

headcanon, romance, fluff, smut

reader x bf!atz

wc. ~ 0.7k

an: i know this took soo long to write, but I actually had a really busy time since I last posted one of these TT but as summer is here now I'll hopefully have more time to write

you can request headcanons if you want to!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

masterlist

- the funny golden retriever boyfriend, who never fails to make your mood better and to make you smile (it's his personal goal in his life, to make you the happiest, and he really does)

-just as to everyone, he is your sunshine, your happy pill, the reason you smile every single day

-he is also the  "college boyfriend" kind of vibe, who is the love of your life and will be your husband in the future

-he always texts you no matter what, if his phone is in his hands, then he's most definitely chatting with you. also if he can't say anything else, he'll send you memes (it's one of his love languages)

-loves treating you with gifts, would most definitely bring you flowers on date nights, but don't forget about the bag of snacks and chocolates he always brings you on the first day of your period (he even tracks it on his phone, so he can be prepared)

-he's a gamer boy, so it's no surprise he loves it when you make interest and ask about his game, not even talking about when you ask him if you can play with him

-lots of inside jokes

-he is a big act of service guy. absolutely loves cooking for you or making you coffee before you wake up in the morning

-he never lets you pay for anything, even if you beg him. he thinks it's a gesture he is supposed to do as your boyfriend (at least that's what his father taught him)

 -gets embarrassed very easily when you compliment him, he gets all shy and giggly, sometimes you do it on purpose, just to see his flustered face because it's the cutest

-he communicates problems so well, that you barely ever fight

-carpool karaoke dates, blasting your favorite music and don't care what other people think of you

-this man has endless energy, so he's never tired of doing anything for you or being with you. when you call him, he's right there just for you

-holding hands 24/7, even if it's too hot outside and your hands get all sweaty, he just doesn't care

-he loooves it when you pamper him, with kisses, or caress his back

-he asks for your opinion on everything, if you don't like something then he doesn't like it either. your opinion is the most valuable thing for him

-goofy nicknames that don't even make sense but you can't help but love it

-somehow always knows what you're thinking about. when you feel uncomfortable in a situation, he's right there for the rescue, tho you didn't give him any specific sign, he just knows you too well. or when you come home from work, you haven't spoken yet, but he knows by just looking at you that you had a bad day and ready to cuddle you all night long

-idk he gives off shy kisses vibes with lots of giggles, but when it's really intimate he just holds your face in his big ass hands

nsfw +18!!!

-okaay hear me out, he is probably a switch, but mostly a bottom. he just loves it when you take control, it's his favorite thing

-he would prefer the good old cowgirl position, but anything, where you're on top is his "favorite", at least that's what he says

-but there are times when his dominant side comes out and ohh boy, you are so blessed to experience it

-when he's in that mood, he just rails you with no mercy. he has to let out all the tension and there's no better place than in the bedroom

-he does magic with his long fingers, takes you to heaven then brings you right back to earth

-he likes doing it in a chair with you on top, of course, he likes the closeness and loves holding you during it

- sex with him is anything but boring, yeah it's really sweet with a lot of emotions, but it's also really passionate and sensual. he would recommend new positions and toys all the time, he likes experiencing

-for places, I think he's a traditional in-bed kind of guy, he likes to stay comfortable 

-holds your hand and whispers sweet nothings into your ears, he talks you through it (with a really low and raspy voice)

-you have sex max three times a week, especially after a date night it's an essential

-his libido is quite high since he's a dancer, he can go multiple rounds in one night

-he likes to cuddle after, holds you in his arms. after a couple of minutes, you both just fall asleep right there and then

taglist: @dinossaurz (you can message me if you want to be added or removed)

[thottythoughtdaughter]

"Taking Care of Your Sick Alpha Werewolf" Script w/ Angel dialogue!!

( a little project i thought would be fun, writing in angel's lines for this transcript! hope you enjoy, lmk if there are any other videos you'd want me to do! )

DAVID'S LINES BELONG TO REDACTED AUDIO !! they are erik's original work! ANGEL'S LINES ARE CREATED BY ME as a fun lil bit

slight nsfw!!

[stirring sound]

DAVID: Mmm.

ANGEL: [sleepily] Hi baby

DAVID: What time is it?

ANGEL: Eight... thirty?

DAVID: Oh god. I don’t think I got more than an hour of sleep in a row.

ANGEL: You didn't go back to bed?

DAVID: No. No, I couldn’t stay asleep. Too hot, too cold, too sweaty, too achy.

ANGEL: Baby...

DAVID: It’s been a revolving door all night. I’m surprised I didn’t keep you up too.

ANGEL: [soft laugh] To be fully honest I did not hear a thing.

DAVID: Well, I guess I’m not surprised, actually, you could sleep through a foghorn. [weak laugh]

ANGEL: Jerk.

DAVID: Hey, it’s a superpower. Be proud of it. I wish that was my problem.

ANGEL: You sound bad. And not sexy bad. What do you think you have?

DAVID: I don’t know. I don’t know what kinda sick this is. I was really hoping it was just a tickle in the throat yesterday. I shoulda known it was more by the time we were going to bed. It’s doing a number on me, I know that much.

ANGEL: So... we're staying in bed, right? No smoking the proverbial opium that, for you, is work?

DAVID: No, trust me, I will not be trying to work today. We don’t have a gig for this weekend, and any paperwork can wait.

ANGEL: Praise the Lord. He finally sees sense!

DAVID: [chuckles] Well, that’s you rubbing off on me finally, I guess.

ANGEL: [teasing] Oh, I've definitely rubbed one off on you.

DAVID: [snort] First of all, you’re a perv for that little joke and--

ANGEL: Little--

DAVID: [overlapping] --don’t now make a joke about ‘little’, I know you, I know how your perverse brain works before you can even get the words out [laughs]

ANGEL: [giggles]

DAVID: And secondly, yes, I’ve finally learned how to give myself a little grace when I’m feeling under the weather, feel free to gloat accordingly.

ANGEL: [chuckle]

DAVID: Meanwhile, I’m gonna bury my face in this pillow. Mmff. Never mind. That makes my eyes hurt. Fuck, how do my eyes ache? This is some bullshit.

ANGEL: You really do sound horrible, baby. Do you want some medicine or something?

DAVID: Mmm. I sound worse than I feel. Honestly the worst of it seems to have worked itself out overnight, at least in terms of fever, hot-cold shit.

ANGEL: Mhm.

DAVID: Now it’s leftover aches. And more than anything, I’m just tired from the shit sleep.

ANGEL: You wanna try to sleep more?

DAVID: [sigh] I mean, I can try. I probably should. Maybe I will. But I’m bad at sleeping during the day. Which is kind of funny, since when I was a kid I had such a hard time falling asleep at night. But now I can’t do the opposite. I’m no good at naps anymore.

ANGEL: This isn't even napping, it's just sleeping. And you're good at sleeping!

DAVID: [laughing] If you get up and then go back to sleep later, it’s still a nap. That’s the definition of a nap.

ANGEL: Says... who, exactly?

DAVID: Says me.

ANGEL: Oh, cuz you're the expert on napping.

DAVID: Well, I’m sick, that means I’m right.

ANGEL: Now that's some bullshit.

DAVID: That’s what you said when you were sick, so the road’s gotta go both ways.

ANGEL: Mm... nah. You're still wrong.

DAVID: [scoff] Menace.

ANGEL: You thirsty? Want some water? I can get--

DAVID: No, I’m good, I’ll get it. I’m gonna get up. I—oof. [ANGEL tackles DAVID] What—what is this?

ANGEL: [muffled in his waist] The people are rioting.

DAVID: [chuckle] Not more of the mutiny.

ANGEL: Viva la revolucion, baby.

DAVID: I got my fill last time.

ANGEL: Do not get up, you're sick.

DAVID: This is different, Angel. I’m not getting up to go do work or something, I’m getting up to get myself some water.

ANGEL: No. No dice. You're staying here.

DAVID: Angel, I’m sick, it’s not like my legs are broken, I can take care of my own water.

ANGEL: No. I can do it. You're sick.

DAVID: [laughs] You’re ridiculous, you know that?

ANGEL: Mhm... [leans in for a kiss]

DAVID: I—would not recommend kissing me right now, I’m gross.

ANGEL: Can I kiss here?

DAVID: [sigh] Yes, you can kiss my head, you goof.

ANGEL: [loudly] MWAH!

DAVID: Thank you. Now can I get my own water?

ANGEL: Really, Davey, just let me do it!

DAVID: [sigh] Fine. I’m staying put. You got me.

ANGEL: Yayy.

DAVID: Then hurry back.

[fade out/in]

ANGEL: Well, well, well. You're still here!

DAVID: Mmhmm. Right where you left me. I can occasionally be coerced to follow instructions other than my own.

ANGEL: [teasing] I don't have to coerce you to do anything. You're just so well behaved.

DAVID: Oh is that what you think?

ANGEL: [smug] mmmhmmm.

DAVID: [laughs] You really looking to test your ability to keep me in place? I wouldn’t recommend your usual tactic when I’m half drowning in snot and phlegm.

ANGEL: [hands DAVID the water, climbs back into bed]

DAVID: I’d hate to give you less than my best. And I’m on the wrong side of no sleep and a low grade fever to give you that. Much to both of our chagrins.

ANGEL: [loud, long sigh] Alas.

DAVID: Yeah, yours most of all.

ANGEL: Can't blame me for trying!

DAVID: Insatiable.

ANGEL: Well if you didn't have such a big dick--

DAVID: [snort] Don’t you try to pin that on me. You are the stuff of legends and you know it.

ANGEL: [fluffs hair] Maybe.

DAVID: At this point I think most of the rest of the pack knows said legends.

ANGEL: Nuh-uh. I'm a perfect angel around them!

DAVID: Oh yeah? What about last solstice?

ANGEL: We just got married they've got to excuse that--

DAVID: And the one before that?

ANGEL: Well I--

DAVID: And the one before that?

ANGEL: So... you know what... [laughs] Fuck you.

DAVID: Mmhmm. That’s what I thought. [laughs]

DAVID: [deep breath, sick sounds]

ANGEL: My poor baby. You okay?

DAVID: Yeah, being sick sucks. But it's all good. I mean, it’s not, I feel like crap, there’s not much good about that. But there’s also not much to be done about it either, other than taking it easy.

ANGEL: Yeah, cuz you're so good at that, too.

DAVID: Hey, I’ve gotten better at taking it easy over the years.

ANGEL: [disbelieving] Mmhmm.

DAVID: I’m at least familiar with the concept at this point. Even if just in theory. I’ve been known to relax on occasion. Does it usually take sickness or threats of mutiny from the rest of the pack, sure. But I’m learning.

ANGEL: [scoffs]

DAVID: Slowly.

[they both laugh]

DAVID: [groans] I think I should get up.

ANGEL: Ah- [points finger]

DAVID: Hey. Hey—hear me out before you jump me again, Angel. I think standing up and walking around a bit will help work some of this crud out of my nose and throat.

ANGEL: Hm.

DAVID: Especially if it includes a shower. I also need to brush my teeth, because my mouth feels like death. And I should eat something.

ANGEL: [teasing] Yeah, you're really grasping for straws now. How'm I s'posed to look after you if you're wandering about?

DAVID: [scoff] I’m not grasping straws, I’m giving a comprehensive list.

ANGEL: A comprehensive list to rob me of my nursing duties!

DAVID: How about this: after eating something, brushing my teeth, and showering, if and let’s be honest, when, I still feel shitty, I then go back to bed, hmm? Or at least to some other horizontal surface, like the couch. And then if you still wanna look after me so bad, you can to your heart’s content.

ANGEL: Yeah, but you're just gonna be grumpy about it.

DAVID: [chuckle] Of course I’ll be grumpy about it. It’s what I do best.

ANGEL: [laughs, cuddles into DAVID]

DAVID: Mm. You look cute.

ANGEL: Shut up I do not.

DAVID: [chuckle] Yes you do. I’d give you a kiss if I could.

ANGEL: You couull--

DAVID: No, not with me like this I won’t. You can wait.

ANGEL: [pouts] Boo.

DAVID: My lips aren’t going anywhere. You’ve already got them for the long haul, you know that.

ANGEL: Awww.

DAVID: Later. Take it up with my immune system. Though it’s a little busy right now.

ANGEL: Dork.

DAVID: [laughs] I’m getting up now. [ANGEL tries to protest] And I’m grabbing some food and I’m brushing my teeth and I’m showering, and then I will submit to your authoritarian care regime, all right? Deal?

ANGEL: Fine. Deal.

DAVID: Jokes aside, thank you for looking after me, baby.

ANGEL: I love you, silly.

DAVID: I love you too, Angel. Now scoot [laughs]

[deebris]

Choices

Alexander Mahone x Wife reader

Synopsis: In the Sona prison, Mahone receives an unexpected visit from his wife, who secretly traveled from the United States to Panama, under the guise of her work at the embassy. Seeing his terrible condition, you tries to convince him to testify in court in exchange for a better place to stay, closer to you and the baby you're expecting—news he only learns at that moment.

Warnings: Drugs, pregnancy, angst, It takes place during the 3rd season of Prison Break.

Word count: 3k

“Mahone, you have a visitor!” The loudspeaker's voice echoed across the yard, cutting through the hot, heavy air of Sona.

The announcement put Alex on high alert. A visitor? Confusion and distrust swirled in his mind. As far as he knew, no one besides his lawyer had been looking for him, and he had seen him just the day before. Still, he followed the guard to the transfer area, where prisoners were taken to the makeshift “cage” meant for visits.

The guard, with a careless posture, remained at a safe distance, as everyone there preferred to keep their distance from the inmates. Narrowing his eyes against the blazing sun, Alex asked the guards as they prepared him for escort, “Who came to see me?”

No answer.

“Hey! I asked something!” Irritation and anxiety leaked into his voice, but he was only met with a rough shove on the shoulder, signaling that he should start walking.

The damp hallways of Sona were nothing new, but the route they were taking now puzzled him. Instead of turning right as usual, the guard led him left. “Where are you taking me?” He asked, louder now, almost frantic.

“You’ll find out.” The guard's tone was indifferent, as though Mahone's growing anxiety was irrelevant.

Alex’s mind raced. This had all the signs of a trap. If the Company was involved, he knew his already dire situation could only get worse.

Soon they arrived at a metal door. It opened with brutality, and Alex was shoved inside before he could protest.

The room was dark, barely lit by a hanging lamp, but the smell and temperature were different from the usual areas in Sona. He blinked a few times to adjust his vision, and then he heard it.

“Alex?”

The voice was sweet, like an unexpected balm. That voice. Her voice. The same one he used to hear first thing every morning, before everything fell apart, before Scofield, before Sona.

“Y/n…” He whispered, incredulous, thinking he was having another hallucination.

You quickly stood up from the chair when you saw him. He looked so tired, so beaten down. He was a shadow of the man you once knew. “What did they do to you?” You lamented, your fingers hesitantly tracing his hair, smoothing over his sweaty skin in search of injuries.

For a moment, Alex froze. It couldn’t be that you were here, in front of him. Was it a dream? An overwhelming relief flooded his body, weakening his legs, as though he might collapse any second. He started to pull away from you, as if refusing to let himself see you there, and that’s when you knew he wasn’t mentally stable.

“Alex.” You repeated his name, this time with affirmation, as you tried to calm him like a frightened animal. “Sweetheart, it’s me.”

“My love…” His voice came out shaky, broken, before you pulled him into a tight embrace. He buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling your scent like a man who had found air after nearly drowning. Despite his condition, he realized you were different, though he couldn’t tell how.

“I thought I wouldn’t see you again,” you murmured in his ear. When you pulled away, you noticed his red eyes, his worn-out skin. “A federal agent came to our house.”

The words made Alex sit up alert, his gaze quickly darting to the guard standing outside. This wasn’t normal.

“How did you get in here?” He asked, a mix of concern and admiration in his voice.

“American embassy.” You gave a melancholic smile. “They think it’s a consular visit, so they didn’t question much.”

Alex nodded, almost smiling at the irony. “Of course.” He remembered your position, your ability to find loopholes in rigid systems.

You guided him to a chair, and he collapsed into it without resistance. “I brought water,” you said, opening the bottle and bringing it to his lips. He drank desperately, as if he’d never tasted anything so pure.

“I heard things about this place, so I came prepared,” you continued, showing him a package of food. “Eat.”

Alex took the bread with trembling hands, devouring it without thinking, without caring about being polite, but he suddenly stopped. He placed his hand over yours, a gesture filled with repressed emotion.

“Thank you…” He murmured, his voice heavy with guilt and gratitude.

You tried to smile, but you couldn’t hide the tears. It was devastating to see him in this condition, and lately, you had been feeling more emotionally sensitive than usual. Carefully, you pulled a small vial from your pocket, placing it in his palm.

Alex froze, staring at the pills. He knew what they were. He knew the relief they would bring. But he also knew the shame they would bring to both of you.

“I know you're not well.” Your voice was soft but firm. “Just... do what you need to.”

He closed his eyes, swallowing one of the pills with water, and didn’t thank you. Alex couldn’t bring himself to, knowing how much you hated this, and seeing the situation he’d put you in made him feel disgusting.

When he opened his eyes, you were already preparing the rest of the food, trying to push aside the weight hanging in the air. You couldn’t take him out of Sona, but you would do anything to ease his pain, even if just for a few moments.

Alex accepted every gesture of care you offered, allowing himself to relax under the comforting touch of your hands. Feeling your fingers brushing the hair from his face while he ate brought an unexpected warmth, a long-lost familiarity. It was as though, for a brief moment, the brutality of this place didn’t exist.

“How much time do we have?” He asked, hesitantly, as if fearing the answer would be a final blow to his hope.

“An hour.” Your answer was gentle, but practical. You took a change of clothes from your bag, something you had hidden along with the water and food. “I brought this. You might not be able to take a shower, but changing into something clean might help a little.”

Alex looked at the clothes with a mixture of gratitude and sadness before beginning to change. You tried to look away to spare him the discomfort of your pity, but your eyes inevitably fell on his physical condition. He had always been strong, but what used to be defined muscles were now starting to give way to protruding ribs. It was incredible what just a few days could do to a human being.

"It's funny," you commented, trying to break the heavy silence. "Technically, I should be here to check if the prison offers adequate conditions."

Alex let out a bitter laugh as he pulled the clean shirt over his shoulders. "Are you going to send a report?" The question came laced with sarcasm.

"I will," your reply was dry, almost ironic. However, your gaze remained fixed on him, watching every small sign of wear and tear. Seeing your husband like this, so vulnerable and distant from the man you knew, was almost unbearable. But you couldn’t allow him to notice.

The silence that followed was full of unsaid meanings, a mutual understanding of what this place was doing to him—and, by extension, to you.

It wasn’t long before Alex pulled you closer, his body pressed against his as you sought comfort in each other. He kept a firm arm around your waist as if afraid you might disappear at any moment. His chin rested softly on your head, and the sound of his breathing was the only consolation in the silence of that place. Alex wanted to freeze time, memorize your scent, the feeling of having you there, before returning to the hell that was Sona.

"I managed to get lawyers this week. They are working on your case." Your voice broke the silence that had settled between you two, bringing up a topic he didn’t want to discuss. "I’m going to try to ask for a transfer, to move you to another prison."

The words hit like a blow. He was many things, but innocent wasn’t one of them. Yes, he was here for a crime he didn’t commit, but what about the ghosts of the past? The atrocities he had committed when he was still with the FBI? He wondered why you kept fighting for him, even knowing what he was capable of.

"If I go back to the States, I’ll get a life sentence..." he murmured, his voice laden with discouragement as he turned his gaze away.

"No, you won’t." Your firmness contrasted with his resignation. You touched his face, forcing him to look at you. "I met with a former colleague of yours. The government is willing to make a deal if you cooperate."

"Eight years, Alex."

The mention of the deal didn’t bring relief. On the contrary, he shook his head in denial, cutting you off before you could continue. "I heard that this morning. I’m not going to stay in prison for eight years." His voice was sharp, filled with contained anger. "Scofield set me up on that boat. He put me here; he’s going to get me out."

Michael Scofield’s name came out with so much venom that it made you blink, surprised. But you quickly regained your composure.

"His brother found me," you said, trying to soften the tone, which didn’t go unnoticed.

"Lincoln Burrows?" Alex furrowed his brows, suspicious. "What did he want with you?"

"I’m not sure," you hesitated, crossing your fingers, fearing his reaction. "He asked me to visit Michael, but he didn’t explain why. He just... asked."

He turned away, his mind racing. Michael had never been straightforward with him. Always calculating, manipulative. Lincoln showing up right now, hours before something big was going to happen, wasn’t a coincidence. This was a move.

Michael knew you were an ambassador. Your position could be the key to helping them disappear, to return to the U.S. as free men. This couldn’t be a slip-up. Either it was an attempt to distract Alex and keep him out of the way, or it was a clue—an invitation for him to join the plan.

"He put me here!" Alex exploded, his fist slamming onto the table with force before he managed to control himself. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to tame the anger. "Sorry." His voice came out softer, almost a whisper. "But if that’s the case, you’re going to have to visit all the idiots who came here. The embassy is going to ask questions when they see your reports."

"It’s fine." Your reply came calmly, as always. This irritated him, but it also comforted him. You never lost your composure, and most of your arguments were because of him.

"You shouldn’t worry about me." He shook his head, turning away once more. "You have your life out there. Your job, our house... I’ve lost everything. You need to move on."

"Alexander!" Your voice cut through the air, strong and determined, freezing him. It was rare to hear you in that tone, full of emotion and authority. "You need to get out of here, do you hear me?!"

You gripped his shirt tightly, your gaze locked on his with intensity. Something in your determination broke his defenses, making it impossible for him to hide in self-pity.

"I’m pregnant..." You finally whispered, your voice trembling. "And..." The sentence died before you could finish it, the weight of the revelation visible on your face.

Alex froze, shock written all over his face.

"Eight years, Alex!" You continued, your voice echoing through the room, but this time you weren’t calm at all. "I’m willing to wait for you for eight years, even after everything you’ve done! Even after the crimes you committed! Do you think it’s easy to come here and say what I’m telling you? I should feel like the worst person in the world for giving you another chance."

The words hung in the air, heavy. He tried to process what he had just heard, but the impact was overwhelming. The world around him disappeared, leaving only you, who now looked at him with repulsion, and the revelation of a new life growing between you, and your unwavering determination.

Alex felt a lump in his throat, his thoughts a whirlwind. You were willing to wait? Despite everything he had done, the man he was... you still believed in him. And that hit him deeper than any word or gesture before.

"You..." He started, but his voice faltered. He closed his eyes, searching for the strength to speak. "I... I don’t even know what to say."

"Then, don’t say anything." Your voice came out muffled as you buried your face in his chest, tears silently streaming down. "Just promise me you’ll think about it before you give a definitive no. A relatively light sentence, in a prison close to home... You’ll be able to see our baby grow."

Alex remained silent, the words reverberating in his mind like echoes of a truth he couldn’t face. Instead of responding, he simply held you against him, as if that gesture could protect you from an invisible danger — or perhaps something he couldn’t comprehend. And in that moment, something inside him changed; the gravity of reality enveloped him, bringing with it a weight he had never felt before.

"It’s... watching as a spectator in the VIP section, unable to participate in anything." He murmured, his voice heavy with sarcasm and bitterness. He leaned back, resting one hand on the back of the chair as he looked at the beams of light slipping through the window.

"It’s still something." His voice trembled, tears once again streaming down. You felt the weight of his words as rejection. He was denying the chance you had, the only real chance to rebuild your life together. Unable to maintain his gaze, you turned your eyes away.

"This is all because of the baby, isn’t it?" Although the question might sound passive-aggressive, as if he were accusing you of something, Alex remained calm, his voice laden with caution. You were the only person who, at that moment, seemed to genuinely care about him, the only one he wanted a chance to ask for forgiveness. "You wouldn’t accept me if you weren’t pregnant. Please, be honest." His voice trembled in the last sentence, a desperate plea for honesty.

The silence that followed terrified him. He saw your expression change, as if his words had broken something inside of you. But before fear could take over, the flame of anger reignited in his chest. How could he think that? How could he believe your intentions were so cold, so calculated? That you only wanted him back because of the baby, and not because of him?

Suddenly, you stood up. The urgency in your movements revealed the mix of frustration and pain. The things you had brought for him were left on the table carelessly, and you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

Alex made no move to stop you. He knew he had two hours to leave there, and that he needed to return to his plan before it was too late. But there was something he couldn’t ignore: the sound of your ragged breathing as you tried to hold back your tears.

Before you could fully cross the door, he grabbed your arm. For a brief moment, his eyes fell on the ring on your finger, before shifting away again.

"Goodbye, Alex." His voice sounded cold, but he felt the hurt hidden beneath the words. You weren’t giving up on him — he knew that. But he also knew something inside you had broken. "They’re going to search you when you leave, so hide the pills well." His warning was heard, making him look at the bottle.

"I love you. Stay safe." These were the only words you could find to reassure him, to dispel his doubts and reaffirm that you were there for him — for him and for the family you were building together. And, in that moment, he understood.

You whispered the words like a breath, and before he could respond, you disappeared through the door, leaving him alone with his own demons.

Alex remained still, staring at the empty space in front of him. The sound of the door closing echoed in his mind, as loud as the weight of the decisions he needed to make.

He ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. The flame inside him burned stronger now, but he wasn’t sure if it was courage or desperation. One thing he was certain of: whatever he did next, it wouldn’t be just for him.

The silence in the room seemed to weigh even heavier after you left. Alex stood there, still feeling the remnants of your presence, the echo of the words you exchanged, the gentle touch of your hand, a constant reminder that the things he feared could truly happen. What was he to do with the love you offered him? And with the anger of being seen as a weak man, dependent on a situation he couldn’t control?

He knew he had to make decisions, and quickly. The battle he was fighting was not just against the system, nor against the past. It was against the image he had of himself. He knew something inside him had turned over when he heard the words you didn’t dare finish. You were willing to wait, to keep loving him despite everything, and he wondered if he deserved that sacrifice.

He glanced once more at the table, where the small bottle of pills rested as a reminder of the situation he was trying to hide. Maybe that was the most precious thing he had now — a way to escape, to regain control. But the words you said kept coming back to his mind: “I’m pregnant...”

Alex felt the pressure in his chest grow. It wasn’t just his freedom’s future that was at stake now. It was the future of the family that, somehow, he still held a hope of building.

With a heavy sigh, he grabbed the bottle of pills and hid it in his sleeve, thinking about what to do next. The fight wasn’t over, but maybe there was a way out. Maybe it wasn’t too late to save what was left of his dignity — and maybe, just maybe, to do something right for once.

[babybearnation]

university student engineer major!oscar x history major!gn!reader x university student stem major!logan headcanons please 🙏 (i also can’t get this out of my mind)

i love this !!! also friendly reminder, my uni experiences were both at british unis so!

engineering major!oscar piastri x gn!history major!reader x physics major!logan sargeant (university au)

cw: suggestive

these two are obviously childhood best friends and probably got together during high school or something

when they meet you during fresher's week, however, they both fall for you, hard and fast

you don't have any overlapping classes with them - you are a history major, after all - but that doesn't deter them from showing up outside your classrooms

the three of you become fast friends and you fall for them, not at all aware that the two of them are dating

when you catch them kissing, however, you're heartbroken

you leave the party you're at and run off, logan soon catching up to you with oscar trailing behind

they confront you - you try and hold the truth back but eventually you lash out, spilling the truth about your feelings for them

logan and oscar are stunned but logan, ever the optimist, jumps straight into kissing you

you three end up making out in public, both of them pressing you against a light pole

the three of you are inseparable after that, even moreso than you were before

you and logan can always be found thirsting over oscar whenever he has to participate in the more physical aspects of his degree

you both agree there is nothing hotter than seeing oscar all sweaty and covered in grease

oscar looks up from his work and just sees you and logan with your hands down each other pants, smirking at him

he usually abandons his work to join in, all three of you ending up in various states of grease-covered mess

when you need to study history, you often lecture them on what you're studying to help you understand concepts

logan and oscar find this insanely hot for some reason and they try not to, but they often end up ruining your studying because you're just so hot

once, they tried to touch you whilst you lectured them, just to see if you could focus, but you failed so badly

if you study a specific part of history that has sexual roots/origins or something that can be turned into an innuendo, expect them to turn it sexual - they cannot help it

logan is a mischievous little shit who can easily turn a simple study session into something sex related

sometimes his brain gets overwhelmed from all the physics-y stuff and he needs a break so guess who he's turning to

one time, you were in a private study room at the library and both of you were too focused on your studying to notice that logan had slipped under the desk until oscar had kneed the table in shock at the feel of logan's hands on his thighs

yeah, you three had to go back to one of your dorms after that because you're too horny but you refuse to fuck in a library study room of all places

logan and oscar can vaguely understand each other's degrees but you understanding theirs or them understanding yours?

no chance in hell that's happening

your friends are so tired of you three being so fucking clingy and horny all the damn time

nine times out of ten, you guys leave parties/clubs early to go off and fuck or, very rarely, cuddle

exam seasons are literally never stressful with these two around

oscar is so helpful and logan is such a goofball that you cannot be sad around them

when you three finally graduate, well... good luck to your fellow graduates - they are getting an eyeful of you three snogging

your boyfriends are so fucking proud of you tho, oh my days, they will not shut up about you graduating

like damn... they graduated as well! but aint nobody know that with the way they blabber about you

blabber about 'em in return, yeah?

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[blueberrybeomgyu]

୨⎯ "insomnia" ⎯୧ (lcy)

+*:🍓:*﹤smut w a little plot, sub!anton, roommates/friends to lovers, unprotexted sex, edging, wet dreams, palming, blowjobs, light nipples touching, petnames: baby boy, anton calls reader noona, switching povs, fem reader, clit rubbing / wc: 5k / masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *

anton can't sleep. 

he tosses and turns just to wake up two hours later, hot, sweaty, and heaving. he writes it off as having nightmares, but that doesn’t explain the hard-ons he always has. he considers getting one off to help him relax, and that works for the first two nights. then, in the days that follow, it's like no matter how long he goes at it, getting himself all whiny and desperate, he can't cum. that realization only makes it harder to stay asleep, lucky if he dozes off for forty minutes.

it's so aggravating. during lecture, he can barely keep his eyes open, but when his head hits the pillow, it's like he can't shut his mind up. 

tonight, he gives up around 1 am after going in and out of sleep for an entire hour. he's restless but exhausted, and his mood is shot when you walk in the apartment. you had a long shift, so you can’t wait to snuggle in bed and watch a couple of comfort movies. you stop by the kitchen on your way to your room, unable to ignore your roommate's quiet grumbles. 

“anton?” you call out, but his back is turned toward you, and he's still mumbling to himself, fiddling with a container.

“sweetheart, is everything alright?” you ask, placing an arm on his shoulder and gently turning him toward you. 

“m fine, can't get this stupid box open.” he mumbles grumpily. in his hands, a box of hot cocoa packets is bent out of shape. you look at him in question (how did he bend the box like that? they aren't hard to open), but your attention is instead drawn to his features.

to put it short, he looks terrible. his eyes are puffy and red like he's been crying, his hair is tangled like he hasn't brushed it in days, and his oversized shirt is hanging off his shoulder, wrinkled and stretched out like he’s been pulling at it.

“do you need help?” you reach for the box, but he moves out of your way, tucking the box to himself protectively as he continues struggling with it.

anton knows he looks stupid, struggling to open this goddamn box, but ever since his problem of not getting off started, he hasn't been able to look you in the eyes. every time you guys make eye contact, he feels ashamed.

what’s frustrating is that he doesn’t know why. you're beautiful, and he can't lie and say he's not attracted to you, but he's never thought about you in a sexual way, because he’s put in great effort to not do so.

so why is it hard to be around you all of a sudden? he can’t help but feel sad about the circumstances, as he was enjoying the friendship you two had been building for the past three months.

“i got it.” he mutters again, tone sharp and stern. you watch him for a couple seconds and conclude that he doesn't in fact have it.

“are you sure, toni? i can-”

“i said i've got it.” he snaps, voices suddenly raised and face scrunched up in annoyance. you slightly flinch at his outburst, a wave of your own irritation washing over you. 

“excuse me?” you ask, offended by his tone. his face falls and he turns away from you again. seconds later, his shoulders begin to shake with his sobs. 

he wishes you would leave him alone, because having your eyes on him makes him feel things he can’t explain. he just wants to have some hot cocoa, get off, then go the fuck to sleep. 

“oh, toni.” you coo, mood softening as you begin rubbing his back. “what's the matter?”

you and anton aren’t extremely close, and not by lack of trying. you’re so attracted to him, but love being his friend and don’t want to mess it up by asking him out. despite that, you've never seen him in this state before. his usually cheerful, even charismatic personality is completely gone, turned into something snappy and miserable. 

“i'm so tired.” he says, his voice shaky and so quiet you almost don’t hear him. the palms of his hands come to rub his eyes aggressively. “can't sleep, no matter what i do.”

you wonder how long he had to be in this state to be acting like this, feeling a bit guilty that you hadn't noticed the signs earlier. you think for a second about how to help. 

“i was going to go watch some movies in bed.” you offer after a few moments of silence. “do you want to join me? it might be nice to have some company for a little bit.” 

he lowers his hands from his eyes and thinks about your offer. you guys have huddled in bed for movies before, so it isn’t a wild suggestion, and your bed is always so warm, multiple blankets and plushies adding extra cushion. he turns around, ignoring the heavy feeling he gets from looking at you.

“here, i'll even make this for you.” you gently remove the box from his hands, ripping its cardboard flap and opening it with ease. he looks at you in surprise for a second, then nods. 

“okay, why don't you go get settled and i'll be there in a minute?” 

he pads softly to your room, shoulders slumped and feet dragging.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

anton is buried underneath your duvet and blankets, only his eyes up to his forehead visible when you walk into your bedroom. 

“comfy, are we?” you ask with a light chuckle, reaching out to hand him his cocoa. he sits up in bed and takes the mug. after changing into pajamas in the bathroom, you settle into your own space and pull up a selection of movies on your phone. 

“how's the cat returns?” you ask, watching as he downs the drink and snuggles back into the sheets. 

“fine.” he mumbles, eyes droopy. you feel bad for him again, hoping he'll be able to get some sleep tonight.

you get through that and a third of coraline when you hear anton huff loudly. you glance down to see that he's snuggled up by your chest, eyes shut and breath even. he’s never slept in your bed before, but you don’t want to wake him up from some much needed rest. you take a moment to appreciate his beauty. in the glow from your bedside lamp, you can see his rosy cheeks and furrowed eyebrows, and your heart swells with fondness. maybe this will make you guys even closer. you smile in triumph and continue the movie. 

ten minutes later, you hear it. you ignore it the first time, but it happens again soon after. anton lets out a faint whimper. for a second, you think he's talking to you, but he doesn't respond when you call out his name. instead, he full-on moans. 

“n-noona.” he mumbles. the blankets have fallen from his chest and pooled around his pelvis, and you see his hips twitch slightly. “please…”

was he…having a wet dream?

surely not, you tell yourself. the circumstances of this happening are quite unlikely. 

“y/n…need you.” he whines quietly, and your eyes jump to the size of saucers. 

he was having a wet dream about you?!

your cheeks heat up, feeling flattered but scandalized. he doesn't say anything else, but his breath picks up rapidly, becoming more choked off as it progresses. seconds later, he jerks awake, gasping and panting, his fingers tangled into the blankets. you watch as he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to slow down his breath. then, he opens them again and looks up from your chest. 

“oh, noona, did i wake you? i'm sorry.” he asks, voice thick and words slurred.

you ignore the way hearing him call you that now makes you hot all over, arousal manifesting in your panties. he sits up with messy hair and puffy cheeks. is he just going to pretend like he wasn't dreaming about you? 

“what?” you scoff, a smile tugging at your lips. you can't help but laugh at how weird this situation was.

“sorry for disturbing you, i'll head back to my room now.” you watch in disbelief as he sluggishly stands up from the bed and not-so subtly covers his boner with his large shirt.

the truth is, anton can't wait to get out of your vicinity. your scent is stuck to his clothes, and he doesn't know why he likes it so much. that shameful feeling is back, and he wants it off his skin.

“wait, anton.” you call out, dropping your phone on the sheets and just barely catching his wrist.

shit. he turns back to you, eyes falling to your mouth, and he could've sworn you were almost…smirking?

“did you get to sleep?” you ask, but your eyes lack genuine curiosity.

“oh, yeah, i guess i did.” he answers awkwardly, looking everywhere but your eyes. he’s so cute, and his nervousness makes you feel empowered.

“what did you dream about?” 

“what?” he looks at you finally with a look of confusion.

“dreams? did you have any?” you slowly lead him to sit back down. he follows easily, pulled back onto your soft, comfortable blankets.

“uhm, no, not that i remember.” 

“you can't remember what you dreamt about?” you ask, incredulous. he looks away for a second, thinking, then turns back to you and shakes his head. 

“i think i've been having nightmares a lot recently. i keep waking up on the verge of a panic attack.” he explains. you hum in contemplation. you can’t help but wonder if any more of these “nightmares” have actually been wet dreams, and if so, how many of them have been about you. 

slowly, your hand trailed along his thigh, and you delight in the sound of his breath hitching. his body is tense, eyes looking at you in question. “but that's alright, i guess i don't w-want to if they were that scary.” he stutters as your hand trails higher and higher. you’re giving him a sultry look, and he wonders if this is going where he thinks it’s going, and is surprised to realize maybe he wants it to go there, despite it being so sudden.

“that's interesting, because i think i know what you dreamt about, and why you can't get to sleep.” you say, circling your finger around a spot right on his hip. they twitch under your touch, and you almost coo again watching him try to restrain himself. 

you’re not sure where you suddenly got the nerve to act like this, but you say to hell with it. you’ve been harboring a crush on him ever since you became his roommate, and he obviously shares the same desire, if his subconscious is anything to go off of. his shy demeanor only makes you more confident. you move on from his hip and slide a hand up his loose shirt.

anton’s almost relieved by your statement—he wants almost nothing more than to have a full night's rest—but he finds it hard to focus on your words as your nails lightly scrape his skin. his eyelids flutter prettily.

“when was the last time you came?” you ask abruptly, causing anton’s eyes to snap open.

“i’m sorry?”

“you likely can't go to sleep because you're so tense. when you do, you can't stay asleep because you keep having wet dreams about me that eventually wake you back up.” you’re not sure if the last part is true, but that’s your working theory. you watch as he struggles to comprehend your statement as you graze a couple of fingers over his nipple, voice catching in a gasp. 

“what are you talking about? i'm not even having inappropriate thoughts about you.” he defends, because he tries so hard to not have inappropriate thoughts about you. he doesn’t want to be a pervert and take advantage of the friendship you guys have, so he pushes away any sexual thoughts that creep up in his mind. sometimes it’s so hard, but he values your company so much, and doesn’t want to upset you.

“oh, yeah? so when you moaned, ‘y/n noona, i need you’ in your sleep, you weren't having inappropriate thoughts about me?” you ask, over-exaggerating the way he moaned. his eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of you tugging on his nipple, then you trail your hand back down to lightly trace his bulge. his hips lift towards your hand, and you pull it away. 

even in his aroused, half-asleep mind, your words make sense. why he feels shame looking at you, why he’s always rock solid when he wakes up. it’s not a far fetch to think he’s been having sexual dreams, nor is it to wonder if those dreams are about you, since you’re the only person he’s been attracted to lately. 

you wrap your hand around his member through his pants, snatching him out of his thoughts. 

“f-fuck.” he gasps quietly, surprised at your actions. “what are you doing?”

“did you think you could get off on the thought of me and i wouldn't take up the opportunity to finally fuck you?” 

questions swim around in his head. have you been wanting to have sex with him? you’ve been thinking about him inappropriately this whole time? the mere idea of you finding him attractive gets him even more hot and bothered, but he has no time to dwell on these thoughts once you start palming him roughly through his sweatpants.

“oh, g-god.” he whimpers out after a few minutes, hips finally bucking into your touch. “please, ‘m close.” his breath quickens again, uneven and harsh like it was in his sleep. his cheeks are dusted with baby pink, embarrassed about how close he’s gotten so quick, but he can’t help it. you’re so beautiful and you’re touching him and he’s realizing maybe his feelings are bigger than he previously thought. 

“you're gonna cum from humping my hand?” you ask, unimpressed. “we haven’t even started yet.”

your words make him feel like he’s being boiled alive. part of him can’t believe this is happening, but he’s so desperate to please you. anton gasps, pushing his hips back onto the blankets to get away from the stimulation.

“please, stop. wanna last.” he begs. he’s so cute, all weak and compliant, and you want to tease him more, see how long he holds out, but you can tell how much he wants to last, so you relent. he mumbles weak “thank you”s as he comes from the edge, and once his breathing returns to normal, you straddle him. he opens his eyes and looks at you in question, audibly gulping when he sees your dark, hungry gaze. he starts a sentence, but you cut him off as you grind your cunt against his member. 

“god, y/n.” he groans, throwing his head back into the pillows. 

“sorry, you were saying?” you ask, giggling meanly. you keep the movement up, building a rhythm while watching him struggle to string words together.

“i can’t– ahh– can’t believe t-this is happening.” he manages, interrupted by a particularly rough grind. for a second, his head catches on the opening of your cunt, and even through two layers of clothing, the feeling has him reeling.

“hm.” you sigh into the feeling and accept the fact that you were gonna have to throw these underwear away. “why’s that?”

“you’re so pretty a-and nice and– fuck, fuck, need you, please.” he whimpers out, echoing the words he spoke while asleep. you take in the sight of him, and he just looks so beautiful, brown hair fanning out beneath him. his lips are red from him biting them, and you can’t resist the temptation to lean down and kiss him. he tastes a little like the cocoa he had earlier.

it starts out slow, anton taking a couple of seconds to comprehend the situation, overcome his shock, and actually kiss you back. then it becomes more of him panting against your mouth, hips jerking erratically under your weight.

you still don’t want him to finish just yet, so you lift off of him and ignore the displeased whine he lets out. you pull his sweatpants off slowly while lightly scratching the skin of his thighs, reveling in the sharp gasp he takes. he’s so responsive, so fun to play with.

“oh,” you whisper, shocked to realize he’s not wearing underwear. “so what’s this? were you expecting to come in here and get your dick wet?” you ask in disbelief, eyeing his cock. it’s about average, but thick, and just thinking about having that in you has your pussy throbbing. you’re just teasing, but your words break anton into a cold sweat. 

“n-no! no– these are m-my pajamas.” he explains desperately, words clipping off into a whine as you lift his hard cock with two fingers then let it flop back down. you can’t help but be mesmerized by it. it was a deep shade of pink, almost red, and a white bead of precum was forming at the tip. you subconsciously lick your lips at the sight. you professionally move on from the fact that anton doesn’t sleep with underwear on in favor of running your tongue across the slit of anton’s dick.

he let out a choked sound and his hips jerk violently, but you’re able to back up before his penis collides with your nose. 

“toni, if you want me to touch you here, you have to be still.” you warn, one hand coming to rest on his hip.

“sorry, sorry, i can do that. i can-” his rambling is cut off by you taking his entire head into your mouth. “shit, shit, i– ‘m.” his hands come to tangle into your hair, but you pull off of his dick and place his arms back by his side. you don’t say anything, but you’re sure he gets the command.

“gonna cum already, baby boy?” you ask teasingly, rubbing his wrists gently. his breath hitches at the pet name, and you make a mental note to revisit that later.

“no,” he mumbles defensively. your eyebrow lifts in suspicion, but you take his word for it.

“if you get close, let me know, okay?” you hold eye contact while saying it, and he responds with a nod. “no, baby. answer with your words. can you do that for me?”

“i’ll let you know, promise.” he says, nodding quickly, so desperate to get your mouth back on his dick. you’re not sure how much you believe him, but you oblige, slowly taking his member into your mouth inch by inch. since he’s on the shorter side, it doesn’t take long for you to bottom out, his tip barely even reaching the back of your throat, but he’s hot and heavy on your tongue.

you wait and adjust for a second then begin a pace. under you, anton doesn’t say anything, the only communication being his gasps and grunts. you can tell he’s close by the way his hips stutter, desperate to buck up into the wet heat, but still, he doesn’t say anything. you pull off his dick to instead suck at the head, tongue sliding across and dipping into the slit. almost immediately, anton verbally explodes.

“stop! stop, please– too much, ahh–” he rambles, stuttering around portions of a sentence. he’s so embarrassed, but it’s not his fault you’re playing his body like a fiddle. 

you love the sound of him begging, so you keep up the ministrations a bit longer until his whines are so loud that he’s practically screaming, squirming on your blankets. you pull off again and rub up and down his thighs slowly. he gasps and pants as he comes down, so tense, and his cock is even more red, twitching as a steady stream of precum leaks out of the tip. it’s so vulgar that it almost drives you insane, and you’re starting to think you’re gonna lose it if you don’t sit on his cock in the next few minutes, but you push through it.

“aw, that looks like it hurts. want me to help you, or should i just leave you like this?” you ask, rubbing lightly at the head. in anton’s sleep-deprived, sexually frustrated mind, he can’t see how much you want him, how you’re just as desperate as he is, and thinks you’re serious.

“no, please, please, don’t leave me, it hurts so bad.” his hips jump lightly, drawing your attention to his member in an effort to prove his point. “i can’t–can’t get off alone, need you.” he can’t even fathom the thought of you leaving him like this, tender and submissive and so, so hard. 

you can’t help but coo at that. you slip your pajamas and underwear, as well as his shirt, off, then straddle him again. you grind your cunt against his member again, this time without the barrier of clothing. before he can beg, you crash your lips into his, swallowing any small sounds that try to escape. 

you kiss him until your lips hurt, making up for all the time you spent silently pining after him, not knowing he wanted you just as bad. when you pull away, he’s struggling to catch his breath and looking at you like you hung the stars. 

“you’re s-so stunning, i c-can’t believe you l-like me.” he mumbles through stuttered breaths. his hands lay awkwardly by his sides, and you lift them up to rest on your hips. his thumbs rub circles into them shyly, which causes your heart to swell up.

“how could i not like you, sweet boy? you’re so handsome and smart, so caring.” you run your hand through his tangled hair, gently undoing a couple of knots as you remember the traits and quirks that made you like him from the beginning. he practically melts into your touch and praise, but you’re not done with him just yet. you raise your hips and lean into his ear.

“you’ve been such a good boy, do you want me to fuck you now?” you barely get the question out before he’s nodding again, all eager at the idea of finally feeling your walls against his cock. 

anton watches with slow, bated breath as you line your opening up with his length, but then you actually take it in, bottoming out with no hesitation, and his eyes roll into his head. he screams, but the sound is muffled due to his teeth trapping his bottom lip. you sigh in pleasure while letting yourself adjust to the feeling, then study his features as you clench around his dick.

his eyebrows furrow, and he lets out another high-pitched keen, and you’re mesmerized by his beauty. anton’s grip on your hips tightens as you lift up and slide back down, but you feel a bit annoyed that his eyes remain closed. 

“look at me, toni.” you request, hands resting on his chest to support your weight. his eyes barely open, fluttering like it’s a struggle, and you can't help but think again that he’s just so cute. you want to destroy him.

“good job.” you praise and graze his nipples with your fingers. his hips jerk at the sensation, pushing himself deeper into you, and you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily as a wave of pleasure washes over you. you breathe through it in an attempt to hold on to some sanity. on the next inhale, you pick up the pace, sliding his length in and out of you rapidly. 

“oh, oh god- fuck, th-that’s so good, you’re so good.” anton rambles, his voice strained and high-pitched in a way you’ve never heard before. you’re instantly obsessed with the sound and make a tsk-ing noise when he bites his bottom lip. you lift your hand off of his chest and squish his cheeks. his bottom lip juts out in a forced pout.

“none of that, baby boy. i wanna hear you.”

“-t’s embarrassing.” he mumbles weakly, which tapers off into another moan as you sink down fully and roll your hips. you throw your head back, feeling his thick size touch you in places you’ve never reached. you pick up a rhythm of sliding him in and out of you a couple of times then bottoming out and rolling your hips.

“damn, anton. you f-feel amazing.” you moan, stuttering when his hips buck into your own. you look back at him and his eyes are still open, and he’s giving you that look again, the one that makes you want to shy away under all of that adoration. before you can, he throws his head back, baring his pretty, flushed neck as another high-pitched noise rips its way out of his throat. 

“f-fuck, -m so-sorry, can’t look– gonna cum, i’m–” 

you still on his lap and ignore the frustrated noise he lets out. next to his ear, you whisper, “not yet, toni. don’t you want to make me feel good too?”

he nods dumbly, unaware of how good he’s already making you feel. his eyes are empty and glossed over as you guide his hand to your clit. he rubs it experimentally, and your pleased sigh has him speeding up a bit, pressing a little harder to hear more of those sounds from you. 

his entire body is tense and burning hot, so close to the release he’s been chasing for a week, and watching your beautiful body react to his touch only makes it worse. he wants to get you there first, but when you roll your hips down again, he doesn’t think he can do it.

“p-please don’t move, please, please.” he begs, words slurring and eyes shining with desperation. he’s so deeply submitted to you that it’s almost unbearable, and you have the sudden need to please him, make him cum so hard he forgets his name, then kiss him to sleep. you support your weight with your shaky arms and lift your hips up.

“fuck me, baby. don’t you wanna cum?” you ask, putting on your sweetest voice for him. 

“fuck yeah, yes, need it.” anton grunts out. he wraps your arms around his neck and grips your hips tightly before roughly thrusting into your cunt. 

“oh, fuck, toni–” you gasp out with your face burried in his neck. his desperation shows through his lack of rhythm, his strokes uneven and harsh. he’s hitting your sweet spot so aggressively it feels like you might lose your mind, then his hand comes to rub your clit again, the grip on your waist strong enough to hold you up with one hand. 

“oh, god. cum, please cum, i-i can’t hold it.” he begs, words interlaced with keens and gasps. despite your previous permission, he’s still so desperate to please you, even with wet cheeks and eyebrows furrowed in agony. the sight, the feeling of him pounding into your sweet spot, and the harsh, uneven rubbing on your clit sends you into overdrive. you cum so hard your hearing almost goes out, but you can faintly make out his muffled screams, and you feel him cream in you, hot fluids spilling back over his cock as he works himself through it. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

eventually, the air stills, and for the first time in hours, anton’s tense body fully relaxes, his bones melding into your pillows. you lift off of him to let him fully catch his breath, and slip into the bathroom. his eyes are closed when you return, and flutter open when he feels something warm and wet touch his skin. 

you’re clean now, having wiped yourself down in the bathroom, and he’s silent as you clean him up as well. his blinks are slow like his eyelids are heavy, and you’re overwhelmed with the desire to leave kisses all over his puffy cheeks. 

you put discarded clothing as well as any dirty blankets in your laundry basket, then climb under the duvet with him. he’s warm and cozy when you pull him to lay on your chest again.

it’s silent for a few minutes, but you know he’s not asleep, because his breath is irregular.

“...noona?” he calls out so quietly you’re surprised you hear it, alert to make sure he’s got everything he needs, so you hum in response. 

“did you mean it? that you think i’m…handsome, and stuff?” he mumbles. his voice is so soft and sweet that you just wanna eat him up, but you don’t wanna disturb his comfort. 

“i meant every word, anton. i’ve adored you since we met.” you confess while running your fingers through his fluffy, tangled hair. 

moments of silence pass.

“i think i’ve been denying my crush on you for the past four weeks.” he whispers again, almost uncertain. his words have your heartbeat picking up, the idea of him reciprocating your romantic feelings makes you so happy you could jump on the bed, because you don’t know how you would’ve gone back to being just friends after tonight.

similar thoughts run through anton’s mind. he can’t believe he didn’t see his feelings for you sooner. it feels like after a full week, he’s finally able to relax into his skin again. you’re so comforting, and remembering how you took care of him gives him butterflies. curiously, he looks up at you, and your eyes are staring back at him, as soft and sparkly as they’ve always been. he can’t believe how deep his feelings for you actually run. 

your lips curl into a big smile, then you're suddenly cupping his cheeks and pressing warm, wet kisses all over his face.

“so cute. you’re so, so cute. i can’t resist any longer.” you say through smooches. he grunts in feigned annoyance, pretending that his heart isn’t threatening to jump out of his chest. you lay him back down, but he still has one question on his mind.

“noona, w-will you…be my girlfriend?” his uncertain tone is back, despite everything.

“i better be.” you say lightly, half-joking. you continue running your fingers through his hair, and anton’s eyelids become so heavy that he can’t keep them open despite wanting to stay here in this moment with you. 

you want to be sure before you drift off yourself, so you wait for a few more minutes, and then his breath evens out, and anton falls asleep.

✧･ﾟ: *

a/n : this story on ao3 <33 pls lmk if i missed any tags i should add! this is my first ff so it's lacking, but i tried my best to fix up any obvious plotholes!!

[hyunnie04]

pleaaaaase i need a reader x hyunjin where hyunjin sweats his ass off during sex and it drips on the reader!!! (totally not thinking about this from his most recent live)

a/n: sorry for the sort of long exposition!! kinda got carried away since the req was so hot jhasjdhjhds i hope it turned out ok!! sweaty hyune is so.. 😵‍💫

unprotected sex, sweat, mdni 18+ nsfw below the cut

hyunjin had texted you a few hours ago that he would be home later than expected. you were fine with it, noticing how hard he worked these days. passion never rested for someone like hyunjin.

sending him a quick ‘ok, take care love youuuuu’, you decided to do some light reading in the meantime. you have been trying to find some down time, not really finding the right moment to squeeze it in your hectic schedule.  

it was almost midnight now. laying down on your stomach for an extended amount of time was probably bad for you, but the novel that rested on your bed had you completely engrossed. legs dangled up in the air as you flip another page, a quiet yawn escapes your mouth.

the bed dips as a figure hovers over yours. the figure straddles and lies down to rest on your back. surprise takes over your features before you could turn back to look, but a kiss to your shoulder told you everything you needed to know.

"hyunjin!"

“baby, you weren’t answering your phone.” hyunjin mumbles, his voice soft and raspy, most likely worn out from practice.

you turn your head to glance at the neglected phone beside you in worry. surely enough upon pressing the on button, a flurry of unread messages from hyunjin had popped up. there were at least 15 and they mostly consisted of wondering where you had gone. the guilt immediately sets in, sitting up to face him.   

“oh, no i’m so sorry. i must’ve lost track…” you close your book and throw it to the side, mad at it for distracting you for such a long time. you hope whatever he texted you was nothing urgent. 

he laughs at your expression, kissing the space between your eyebrows. hyunjin takes the strings of your hoodie and pulls you closer. he was still in this practice clothes, the beanie he left with this morning was nowhere to be found. your legs slot right in between his while hyunjin tilts your chin up to his eye level. “it’s okay, baby.” he smiles, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. “i know how much you love reading.” 

that one simple action from him made your heart practically pound out of your chest. no matter how many times he manages to fluster you with his gentle touches, it always feels like the first time. heat easily creeps up your neck as he turns you around to cuddle.

when hyune was tired, he turns into the cutest, clingiest ferret.

hyunjin’s hands snake over the expanse of your stomach, further burying his head into your neck. the hot puffs of breath from his mouth and the growing hardness in his pants send goosebumps all over your flushed body.

and sometimes, he turns into the horniest one.

you stop yourself from audibly gulping as he leans to whisper in your ear.

“hmm? are you getting flustered?” hyunjin rasps out lowly from behind the shell of your ear. wetness followed as soon as those honeyed words left his lips. it was useless in denying it, he knows damn well how much it affected you.

-

you were down on your shared bed, laid bare and disheveled all for hyunjin to see. you're still recouping from the mind numbing head he had lovingly given you, not expecting him to still have the stamina to go down on you judging by his sleepy state just an hour ago.

hyunjin’s lean and toned figure hovers over yours as his faded grayish pink strands fall delicately over his eyes. he was still dressed in his dark hoodie, only pushing the waistband of his sweats under his length, stubbornly insisting that tonight was about you.

when he had finally entered your drenched cunt, you immediately felt incredibly full, like you always did. hyunjin’s flushed length is eagerly hugged by your gummy walls as if it was solely made for him alone. the deep groan he lets out drives you insane.

he had let out a shudder, feeling your warm pussy swallow him whole, combined essence slowly dribbling down the ruined sheets. hyunjin struggles to contain himself from giving in too early, wanting to make you comfortable first.

a light sheen of sweat starts to collect on his brow line as he adjusts his hips, eliciting a mewl of pleasure from you.

any movement- no matter how little, from either one of you sends mind numbing, electrifying shocks towards your sensitive nerves, tethering on the edge of orgasm. 

looking at hyunjin with hazy eyes, his chest heaved heavily with desire, poking his tongue out to lick his lower lip in that teasing manner that he usually does.

you wonder for a second if it was possible to get any wetter- with hyunjin? it definitely was. 

he looked absolutely sinful, staring down at you hungrily with half lidded eyes as if he was hunting prey, tongue still cheekily poking out and ready to pounce.

“hyune-” the words prematurely die in your throat, getting cut off by the abrupt desperate thrust of his hips. hyunjin couldn't hold back any longer.

you cry out, hands gripping the sheets in an attempt to ground yourself from the animalistic pace he had set. hyunjin is like a man starved by the way his unrelenting thrusts into you eventually start to rock the bed.

you can't help but grind yourself in time with his hips, the wet sound of skin slapping against each other echoing through out the room.

cum obscenely drips from your connected bodies and hyunjin can't help but take his fingers out and spread it further onto your weeping cunt. his surprising actions make you squeal out, clutching on to his forearm and subconsciously making you clench around his delicious cock.

he hisses through the overwhelming pleasure, continuing to toy with your overly sensitive lower lips whilst keeping his momentum.

"you're so pretty, my love..." hyunjin mindlessly sighs out. you could only moan in response, too fucked out to reply.

hyunjin was starting to get hot, you could tell. sweat had started to accumulate all over his body, making him glisten even in the dim atmosphere. the sweat saturates and dampen his hair, making him run a hand through them every few seconds in an attempt to keep them from falling.

seemingly having enough, hyunjin abruptly stops his movements. a strangled sob of desperation escapes your throat as he angrily pulls the zipper of his hoodie down, throwing it next to you. it was so incredibly hot.

you could smell the intense scent of his perfume mixed with sweat along with the unmistakable erotic smell of sex radiating off his skin now. he bites his lips and closes his eyes as he sinks easily into your slick cunt once more, resuming his exhilarating pace.

hyunjin’s lithe arms cages you in between them as droplets of sweat start to drip profusely off his chin and down on to your chest.

the first time you and hyunjin had sex, you were simply astonished by how much sweat he produced. he even apologized for it, for something he couldn't control. you had to insist that you really weren't bothered by it. everybody sweats, some just more than others.

in fact, it secretly made you even hornier knowing how your hot and sexy boyfriend was wet, soaking, and glistening, how could it not make you horny? many nights were spent thinking of him in that state, tempted to just lick it off him in depravity.

it was definitely an unexpected but welcomed addition to your unexplored kinks. you haven't even told hyunjin, so it takes him by surprise when you pull him closer with your legs around his waist, kissing, lapping at the droplets that continue to fall down his chin.

he gapes at you with a momentarily look of bewilderment, but then a flash of ferality in his eyes takes over. hips now starting to stutter aimlessly, he drowns in his unrestrained pleasure. savoring your sweet mewls of ecstasy fueled by his own erotic grunts and hisses.

hyunjin leans down to trail tender wet kisses of desperation along the junction of your neck and shoulders. it's spreads more and more of his perspiration onto the dewy expanse of your skin, the sight of it is absolutely nothing short of pornographic.

the tell tale sign of his orgasm shows, breath hitching in his throat and the bruising grip he has on your hips says it all. his hair flips upwards along with the slight tilt of his head as you clutch his toned arms in return, finally spurting his release inside of you.

wrapping your arms around his neck, the thick searing hot cum that spills inside your walls prompt yourself on the edge of unraveling. hyunjin reaches a hand to your aching clit, rubbing tight little circles on the bud to aid your release.

the throbbing in your pussy seems to increase by tenfold, hips wildly bucking up to meet his hands. you cum with a whine, relief washing over you.

the piercing just below his eyebrow shines against the golden light of your night lamp, getting covered by his pretty hair falling on his face while he stares into your half lidded eyes.

your fingers instinctively reach up to tuck the strands behind his ears, just to see the beautiful piece of jewelry. hyunjin’s eyes are still shut from the aftershocks, but that didn’t stop him from taking your palm and kissing it affectionately.

“i love you so much.”

"i love you too."

he collapses on the wet valley of your breasts, resting his head to recover. both of your breathing are labored, no doubt extremely exhausted.

“we really need a shower.” you hum, smiling adoringly at his tuckered out form, playing with the hair on his nape. hyunjin raises a suggestive eyebrow at your proposal and lets out a cheeky giggle.

"if you wanted to get even wetter, all you had to do was ask."

[katuschka]

Nights In White Satin

Jake Kiszka x reader 1.740 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): not much, just tooth rotting fluff, kisses, late night intimacy and non-explicit descriptions of sex, this short story is mostly about all the emotions associated with saying it for the first time.

Special thanks goes to @edgingthedarkness who inspired me and helped me to transform our usual meaningless rambling into this particular idea by mentioning the song.

Nights in white satin Never reaching the end Letters I've written Never meaning to send

A mild summer breeze blew into the room through the windows open wide as we lay breathless. 

The air had finally cooled after a hot day, so we had opened the windows to let the fragrant fresh air in before we fucked. 

I watched it play with the chiffon curtains now, making them dance and sway like fairies in the silver moonlight before I closed my eyes and let it blow over me as well. It played with me too, then, cooling my heated skin as my heart danced to the same eerie melody, while the universe sang along. 

I listened to his heavy breathing while his moans still echoed in my ears, lustful and coarse. But now my mind played tricks on me, replaying them in my memory as the most dulcet and comforting of sounds. 

And I wondered why. 

Jake’s fingers brushed tenderly over mine just like they often did when we collapsed next to each other, tired and spent. And I wondered why it felt so different now as his fingertips drew slow circles over my knuckles with strange and subtle diffidence that was brand new. 

I opened my eyes again to look at him, and the symphony of cosmic sounds grew louder. 

There was something different about the night. I couldn’t put my finger on it just yet, but it felt as if another source of light was coming from within the confines of my heaving ribcage, illuminating our sweaty bodies like a second silver orb. The source could not be seen, but it’s diffused light we bathed in was unmistakably there.  And I wondered how that happened…

“Are you watching me?” The real and raspy sound of his voice made the unearthly music in my head stop, but I didn’t mind. The feeling lingered. The corner of his lips twitched as he tried to suppress the involuntary smirk.

“Just smile. Don’t fight it.” If he wants to tease, I will tease back. And we both know that I always win. To prove me right, he chuckled softly, even though he stubbornly kept his eyes closed. “You_love_it,” I added playfully, rolling each syllable on my tongue like candy.

The smile vanished and he visibly tensed. Did I say something wrong, mayhap? It was just a fleeting moment, a barely noticeable frown that soon transformed into a pout, but it scared me anyway. 

This was a night of confusing emotions and phantoms lurking in the shadows. And I still wondered why. Something had changed in the air while we’d been riding our high. Maybe the wind had brought it in…

“I do,” he whispered, smiling softly again.  

Yeah, he did. He loved me watching him, observing him, studying him even. It was in fact one of the first things he had told me when we first met. I fancied him maybe a bit too much for my liking, as he just couldn’t wipe that smug grin off of his face. Well, at least not until I whispered my sweet retributions in his ear. He was mine ever since. ‘You’re fire I love to play with,’ he told me. 

And with the fire he played. And we danced in the flames during many sleepless nights. Slowly, I came to realize that Jake was the fuel, turning our shared moments ablaze. I had burned and I had crackled and sometimes he had reduced me to damp embers, softly glowing in the melancholy of grey mornings spent without him after his leaving.

Not tonight. 

That strange sense of melancholy washed over my entire being even with him still lying next to me, making me shiver despite this being a balmy summer night.

Propping myself on my elbow, I watched his relaxed face illuminated by a sliver of silver light, tiny droplets of sweat still covering his skin like morning dew. Our breathing had already calmed down, but the strong and heady smell of sex still lingered in the room despite the drought, keeping us both intoxicated. Months had passed since the first electric kiss, but the thrill never wore off. It was, in fact, much stronger now. Making me wonder… 

Jake opened his eyes and returned my gaze, making me acutely aware of the real silence surrounding us.  

I longed and dared to stroke his damp hair, pushing away the tiny strands stuck to his forehead, and his eyes fluttered closed again as he savored the moment with me. This was when he looked the most pretty, baby like yet manly all in one. I traced his features with the tip of my finger, committing them to my memory so that he could keep haunting me when I’m old and grey. 

And I wondered why it suddenly hurt to imagine being old and grey without him. 

I think that deep down I had known the reason for a while, but my conscious mind refused to accept it, convinced that nights like these were doomed to be experienced here and now. We had never talked about it, and it made me believe there was no other option. 

But then he smiled just a little with his eyes still closed, putting an end to my bittersweet musings by asking me teasingly if I wanted more. 

“And if I do?” I teased back, running my palm down his chest, making him chuckle softly once again.

“Gimme ten minutes, tops.” But I could sense sleep already claiming him, and felt him drifting away from our shared reality under my touch. It left me feeling strangely alone, and not even the traitorous, caressing breeze could change that. 

He still looked the same when I came back from the bathroom a few minutes later, sprawled on his back, looking content and peaceful with his lips slightly parted. I should have honored his need to rest, but the urgency fueled by uncertainty forced me to savor every minute and every inch anyway. And so I climbed back onto bed and enfolded his body in mine again, pressing tender kisses along his exposed throat. 

It didn’t take long for him to rouse and wriggle under my touch, those parted lips greeting me with a soft and melodious whimper. I let him know I noticed, exhaling hot air right next to his earlobe. Slowly. Teasingly. 

“You’re impossible,” he whispered sleepily, and that only encouraged me to continue. I grabbed his other cheek and pulled him even closer, peppering his jaw with even more fiery kisses. 

He was so tired still. Not even trying to stop me, he just mumbled that it was a lost cause. It took me only two more minutes to prove him wrong. Purring contentedly, I straddled him, reaching between us to help him find the way between my folds. He moaned breathily when the tip of his cock slipped into the warm and welcoming cushiony home. I watched with delight as his head tilted back when I let him all in. Surrendering completely, he just let me use him. 

And so I rode him slowly, taking my time. There was something strange about the night, something that already made me mourn its inevitable death. The moon moved in the sky, illuminating the wall before me and leaving Jake’s face in the shadows. 

With a new, strange sense of urgency, my hands clawed at his chest and I quickened my pace.

I kept my eyes on him the whole time; it seemed like a blasphemy not to watch how his back arched, with his eyes closed shut and his mouth wide open, his neck still sweaty and exposed. I leaned down to caress it with my own parted lips again. 

"Slow down honey," he mumbled, his fingertips running down my back until they rested on my hips. I straightened back up, fulfilling his wish, moving slowly. 

Maybe it was the wind that kept washing over us like sea waves. Or maybe it was the moon with its power to invade people’s dreams. Or maybe it was just me, my inner self tired of my self-denial. It made me realize why. It made me accept how I felt about him. And just how MUCH. 

Overwhelmed by it, I closed my eyes for a split second, and when I opened them again, they locked with his. Something in his expression changed, something that made my heart skip. I could swear I felt it somewhere deep within me before I heard him say it. It changed the night forever. He reached up to cup my cheek and  in between moans he whispered. 

"I really love you".

I think it surprised him more than me. And even though I stopped in my movements and my next exhale turned into a sob, it was his hands that started to tremble. I reached for him and pulled him up, wrapping my arms around him as he did the same, resting his head against my sternum. “You don’t have to say anything,” he mumbled. “But now that I did, I need you to know that I mean it.” 

His confession lay heavy on my chest. My pulse quickened again, but it had nothing to do with lust. My heart just overflowed. It made me think about what it really meant... for me, for him, for the future. 

“Jake…”

He leaned back a bit and looked up at me, propping himself on one arm with the other one still holding me tight. “I’ll understand if…”

“No! I love you too.” 

I moved again and locked my lips with his before he could say any more. Or me. The moment was meant to be felt. Like dancing in the wind. The intertwined limbs, the caresses, the kisses; all familiar by now, and yet brand new, because for the first time in months, we made love. We collapsed back in bed together, and I could no longer tell where I ended and he began. His touch, so much more tender in the early morning hours, finally turned my fears to pure exhilaration, and I lost the sense of time.

A sudden gust of wind blew the curtains our way, the smell of ozone in the air alerting us of a morning storm that was nearing. I inhaled deeply the freshness mixed with the scent of him; it filled me with a brand new sense of calm. Not even the rumbling sound of thunder in the distance could change that. 

Everything about this new day felt different.

Beauty I'd always missed With these eyes before Just what the truth is I can't say anymore 'Cause I love you Yes, I love you Oh, how I love you

@thewritingbeforesunrise @fleet-of-fiction @writingcold @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep  @takenbythemadness  @edgingthedarkness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @josh-iamyour-mama @lyndz2names @wetkleenex-gvf @peaceloveunitygvf @cheersdannyx2 @fleetingjake @lizzys-sunflower @emojakekiszka @gvfmarge @Dayumclarizzel @lipstickitty @clownstarr @gretasfallingsky @musicislove3389 @i-love-gvf @psychedelectable @allof--mylove @sacredsparrow @scarabsinthestardust @Ironlotus90 @stardustsam

[lycheedr3ams]

Choke on It ~ (part 1)

Fem!reader x hard!dom!konig

MDNI! NSFW!

Part 2

This is complete filfth and probably the most sinful thing i've ever written. not proofread

TW: gun kink, mean konig, hard dom konig, choking on his massive dick, slight masochism, hair-pulling, mask kink, swallowing his cum, lmk if I missed anything

(I'm not sure if a gun kink counts as dark content, so just be aware of this. Always use safe words and enthusiastic consent! Don't try this stuff at home.)

A few weeks ago, you told Konig that you'd like to...experiment in the bedroom a bit. He was usually a little rough, given his massive size and strength, but his words and the way he looked at you was always so gentle and loving. And you were fucking tired of it. You wanted him to just use you like you knew he could.

"I just want you to be really rough, for once," you explained to him one night. "I know you can use me however you want. Please, just do that."

His eyes widened in surprise, with a hint of worry. "Are you sure, Liebling?" he asked, concerned. "I don't want to hurt you."

You looked him right in the eyes as you said, "That's exactly what I want, Konig. Show me that I belong to you. I want you to do anything. You can even... bring a gun into it. I don't care."

His breath stopped for a moment as he stared at you like a deer in the headlights. This massive beast of a soldier, who has killed so many people, is frightened by your words.

"If...if that's what you want...." he said nervously. But he couldn't help the excitement that started to blossom in his chest at the thought of finally being in control in the bedroom for once. He was always so willing to submit.

"Just surprise me, okay baby? Really, nothing is off the table."

Konig nodded and thought hard for the next few weeks.

.......

You didn't think it would happen tonight. You were just laying in your shared bed in you and Konig's apartment when he came back from maintenance training during his time off. When you heard the door shut as he entered, you got off the bed and happily walked up to him with a smile.

"Glad you're back from work," you say as you wrap your arms around his massive frame. But he doesn't hug you back. You look up at him, confused. "Are you all right? Did you have a bad day?" you ask.

His sniper hood was still on, and he was wearing the more casual camo pants and a tight black shirt, still drenched with sweat from his workout. He looked down at you without any emotion in his eyes.

"Kneel," he commanded with a low, raspy voice.

You looked up at him, blinking in confusion.

"Did you fucking hear me?" he asked as he looked down at you.

You gasped. "Y...yes. I was... just surprised, is all," you say as you begin to sink on your knees. Before both of your knees can even reach the hardwood floor, his gloved hand tangles tightly in your hair, and he pushes your face right into his crotch. You can smell his musk through his pants.

"You fucking wanted this, so you'll take it," he growled from above you. "You know what to do."

You look up at him with wide eyes before nodding and quickly undoing his belt and sliding the zipper down. Before you can even reach to pull him from his boxers, you can feel how hot and hard he is.

"You're so hard, Konig," you observed. He pulled your hair, and you yelped in pain.

"I didn't tell you to speak, now did I?" he said punishingly. "The only time your mouth should be open is when you're choking on my fucking cock. I haven't got all night."

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his words. This is it - this is exactly what you wanted, and you felt shame as you could feel yourself drenching your panties. You quickly pulled his hard length out from his sweaty boxers, and the scent of his sweat almost made you faint. You pumped his thick, hot length in your hand before roughly pushed your hand away and shoved your mouth down on his cock with his thumb and index finger prying your mouth open. Tears instantly sprang into your eyes from the sting of his entire length shoved into your mouth so quickly. You could feel his thick, hot tip poking the back of your throat.

He groaned above you and shoved your face down so that your nose brushed against his pubes. You coughed and sputtered with him still in your mouth, and he shook his head at you.

"Come on, you're used to my length by now, are you not?" he mocked with a teasing smirk hidden by his sniper hood. "Fucking. Take. It." He commanded, each word punctuated by a thrust of his hips into your throat. His cock touched your tonsil each time and you couldn't stop choking. He roughly pulled you off his cock by your hair and stared down at you, shaking his head as you choked and spit dribbled out of your mouth and onto the hardwood floor.

"Fucking pathetic," Konig spat. You looked up at him, hoping for some sort of comfort from your normally loving boyfriend, but only saw a demon in that moment. "Relax your throat, yeah?" he said before suddenly shoving your mouth onto his wet cock again. You were more prepared for it this time, but nothing could stop your gags when he thrusted past your tonsils. He pulled you off his cock again and let go of your hair as he reached for something tucked in a back pocket.

Your eyes widened as you coughed when you saw him holding the hand-gun that he always conceal carries. He stared at you as he turned the safety on. But it was still loaded. You looked up at him, and he almost felt pity before he harshly reached down and dragged you back to your knees by your hair.

"You're going to fucking take it, and not choke, do you understand?" he commanded as he held the end of the gun right against your head. The cold metal poked into your skull, a contrast from the warm fingers of his gloved hand in your hair. You gulped as you look up at him. He shoved the gun deeper in your skull.

"I asked you a question," he growled as he bent over you.

"Yes! I understand!" You squeaked as you nodded.

Satisfied with your answer, Konig shoved you on his length again. One hand holding the back of your head and forcing you on his cock, the other holding the gun that was shoved against the side of your head. You felt completely powerless as he thrusted deep into your throat and groaned above you. You hollowed out your cheeks and wrapped your tongue around him, trying to focus on that rather than your gag reflex and the gun against your head.

"Scheisse," Konig hissed. He looked down at you and saw your heavenly face: your nose shoved right against his pubes, the tears flowing freely down your cheeks, and your throat bobbing as you struggled to take him.

"All you need is a gun to your head to make you behave, is that it?" he teased as his cock twitched. "I know you're so fucking wet right now. This is what you asked me for, remember?"

You closed your eyes as you tried to nod with his length halfway down your throat. Spit was dripping down your chin and down your throat, and Konig laughed at the sight.

"So desperate for this cock, aren't you?" he teased further. He suddenly stopped thrusting and instead used your hair to move your head up and down his cock, your lips wrapping perfectly around his thick length. You could feel one prominent vein slide against your bottom lip with each stroke. You sucked hard on his tip each thrust, and he began to tremble.

"Don't fucking stop," he said as he gripped your hair tighter. The tingling pain of having your hair pulled was almost just as unbearable as his cock down your throat. He dropped the gun and placed his hands on either side of your head as he thrusted into your mouth at a frantic pace before he came loudly down your throat. You could feel his hot cum spurting and sliding down your esophagus. He finally pulled you off of him, and you nearly collapsed on the floor as you gripped your throat, coughing loudly and with spit dripping down your chin.

Konig took off his sniper hood and sat on the floor with you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed gently.

"My love, are you okay?" he asked with worry plainly laced in his voice. "I hope I wasn't too rough with you..."

You shook your head, your throat unable to form words. You offered him a tired smile as you placed your hand on his thigh.

"Oh, you can't speak?" he asked as you shook your head "no."

"I'm sorry, Liebling, here," he picked you up easily and set you down on the couch. Part of you wishes he would throw you around the living room too. "Let me get you some water." Konig disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water, which you drank gratefully. He sat next to you and you cuddled close to him as he gently stroked your hair and undid the knots he created.

hehe

[ataliagold]

I'll Sing Silence

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, background Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler

Rating: T

W/C: 2706

Tags: established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, autistic Steve Harrington, sensory issues, stimming, autistic shutdown, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care Of Steve Harrington

Notes: Title from Drinking Song For The Socially Anxious by The Amazing Devil. A lot of this is based off my own experiences with autism, other stuff I've added in.

Summary: A series of unfortunate events leads to a bad day for Steve. Luckily, Eddie's there to take care of him.

___

It was a series of unfortunate events that led to Steve’s meltdown that evening.

First of all, he hadn’t slept well last night which had led to him sleeping through his morning alarm since he’d been so tired, and then he hadn’t had time for a shower before work so he was feeling sweaty and gross, and it was already hot when he stepped outside which led to his clothes sticking comfortably to his skin and he was already upset by the rupture in his morning routine but then Robin was running late and he’d had to sit in the car outside her house and stare anxiously at the minutes ticking by on his watch while his leg jiggled impatiently and then he’d had to pretend everything was fine when Robin asked why he looked so tense…

They were late opening Family Video, late to clock in, and Steve hated being late.

He had a routine, he had a system, and when it was upset it took him a long time to settle again.

But he’d listened to Robin chatter away while they rewound tapes and put them away, murmured non-committed responses and retreated back inside his own head a bit until he started feeling semi-normal again.

Just as he was starting to feel a little better, lunch time had rolled around, and he realized he’d forgotten his lunch in his rush this morning, and he’d stood in the breakroom with his fists clenched and his heart pounding because now he was going to have to rush to Melvalds and try to find something to eat but he wasn’t sure he had enough time and he’d never gone there before during a lunch break, it was out of routine and it shouldn’t be a big deal but it fucking was because there was something wrong with him, why was he so upset over fucking lunch…

He was wasting his break. Couldn’t get his brain to cooperate and just choose a constructive path to follow, became stuck in a frustrated loop and frozen in place as the minutes passed.

He did nothing, in the end.

Spent his time staring at the wall of the breakroom, trying to breathe slowly, trying to settle himself but without something to eat he couldn’t find anything for his hands to do, ended up stuffing them into the sleeves of his jacket and clutching the fabric hard, hard enough that his fingers started to ache and it was making him too hot but it felt good to just squeeze something…

Robin found him. Frowned, offered him half her own sandwich which he gratefully took but it wasn’t right, there was too much ham and the cheese was a different brand to what he usually bought and it didn’t feel right in his mouth.

A run-in with a grumpy customer that afternoon almost tipped him over the edge.

He’d felt tears building, felt that familiar tight feeling in his throat, the way his lungs were starting to constrict and his hands were starting to tremble even as he frantically twisted the bracelet on his wrist, the one Eddie had given him after seeing him constantly play with Eddie’s own jewelry…

The woman was saying something, her face twisted and angry while she waved around a tape in her hand, but she wasn’t giving Steve any time to process her words and every time he tried to talk she’d yell over the top of him and Steve had had enough.

Before he could lose it in front of the customer, he backed up. Turned on his heel, strode away, threw a pleading look at Robin as he passed her.

She nodded, smoothly intercepted the woman with a fake smile plastered on her face, and Steve retreated quickly to the relative safety of the breakroom.

He breathed. Stared unblinking at the floor, still rotating the brown leather bracelet, running his index finger over the intricate design etched into it.

You’re fine, calm the fuck down, stop being a fucking child.

But he couldn’t.

He knew this wasn’t normal, that he should be able to deal with the day like any other person, but it was like there was this block in his brain telling him otherwise.

“Steve, you ok?”

Robin interrupted his downward spiral, placed a hand on his back and Steve immediately leaned into it because the pressure was good, the weight of her hand comforting and grounding.

“Mmm hmm,” he mumbled.

“Ignore Mrs Brown, she’s a bitch.”

“Yeah.”

“Tried to tell me the tape didn’t work, I put it in the store player and it was totally fine so it’s probably an issue with her player but I swapped the tape out anyway because I really couldn’t be bothered arguing it further…Steve?” Robin’s tone was concerned, her hand rubbing small circles into his back.

“Mmm?”

“You don’t look too good, what’s happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, it’s clearly something -”

“M’fine.”

“Do you want to head home early? I can finish off here and call Nance to pick me up.”

No, because that would mess up his routine even more and he didn’t think he could live with that today.

Steve shook his head.

“Well…we can skip dinner tonight, if you want. We can just postpone it, if you’d rather go home.”

He would rather go home. Or preferably to Eddie’s, where he could curl up on his boyfriend’s bed and let Eddie wrap his arms around him and squeeze him tight and pull the blanket up over his head and just shut out the rest of the world until he was ready to crawl back out and deal with it again.

But they’d been looking forward to going out to the diner for a while now – Steve, Eddie, Robin and Nancy – their schedules had finally aligned, and they’d eagerly organized the double date.

Everyone was looking forward to it, and Steve wasn’t going to let them cancel it just because of him.

Just because he couldn’t deal with a few minor inconveniences in his day.

He shook his head again.

“You sure?”

“Mmm.”

“Ok, well…how about you just sit out here for a few minutes, ok? Come back out when you’re ready.”

Some days, Steve went about his day and felt almost like a normal human.

He woke up, he went to work, he chatted to his friends, he’d see Eddie whenever he could, kiss him and watch movies and eat dinner and everything was fine.

But some days, everything was too loud. The tag on the back of his t shirt scratched at his neck, the door to Family Video creaked a little too much and he felt it in his teeth, the lights overhead were too fucking bright and there were too many people demanding his attention all at once and it was like a flip switched somewhere and he went into shutdown.

He wasn’t quite there yet, but he was about to crest that wave, and everything would come crashing down then.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, too slow and too fast at the same time, and Steve waded through it like molasses, heavy and slow.

When Eddie sauntered in at the end of Steve’s shift, all warm smiles and soft eyes and familiar scent, Steve felt his heartbeat slow a little.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie murmured, looking him up and down and immediately wrapping his arms around him tight because there was no one else in the store and he knew, he always knew when Steve was having a bad day.

Steve sagged a little, pressing his face to Eddie’s neck, breathing him in, hands curling in the soft material of his Metallica t shirt.

“You still wanna go out, sweetheart?” Eddie whispered.

Steve nodded, most of the motion lost due to the fact he was practically burrowed into Eddie.

Eddie kept a hand on him the whole way to the diner. Whether it was holding his hand in the car, or allowing their pinkies to just brush as they walked side by side to the diner, or the gentle grip on the back of Steve’s shirt as they rounded the corner and saw the large queue outside the diner.

Steve’s stomach dropped.

He liked the diner.

It was familiar, he knew the menu by heart, he knew what he liked and the staff were friendly and happy to swap out a couple of the things on his plate because he always preferred his sauce on the side and he didn’t like tomato in his burger, and the music was never too loud and the lights were just dim enough that they didn’t irritate him to hell and back.

They hadn’t bothered to book tonight because it was never usually this crowded.

“I’m gonna go see what’s happening,” Nancy announced, striding past the queue towards the door.

Steve swallowed, shifted from foot to foot.

Eddie leaned in. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” he breathed, “if it’s too busy, we can go home, ok? We can come back another day.”

He nodded.

Nancy returned, looking mildly irritated. “It’s some special they’ve got on, you get your food half price before seven pm, it’s already completely full in there.”

Eddie tilted his head, contemplating. “We could come back after seven, when the crowd’s thinned out?”

Robin groaned. “I’m starving, I gave half my lunch to Steve because he forgot his.”

Eddie glanced at Steve, fingers brushing the back of his arm briefly.

“We could go to that new place?” Nancy suggested. “The one on the corner? It only opened last week, it might be quieter since half the town’s here.”

Eddie’s gaze flicked to Steve again. “Maybe we just go home, do this another day,” he said carefully.

Steve wanted to speak, found his mouth glued shut, pulse thrumming in his ears.

“It’s Mexican, right?” Robin asked excitedly. “Yes, can we go there? Please?”

Steve liked Mexican food - when he could cook it himself, or when he’d been somewhere before and knew exactly what to order. But he’d have to study the menu at this new place, have to no doubt awkwardly ask them to omit some ingredient or another and what if they didn’t like that, he didn’t want to complicate things or make it uncomfortable for the others, and what if they had the music up too loud and he wouldn’t know where the bathroom was to retreat to so he might have to ask but what if he couldn’t get words out…

“Steve?” Robin was saying.

“Mmm?”

“Can we go?”

“Sure,” he said, because he’d give Robin the world if he could.

Robin clapped her hands, darted ahead with Nancy.

Steve went to follow, but was stopped by Eddie’s hand on his wrist, turned to see him looking at Steve with concerned eyes.

“Stevie…lets go home, huh?”

Steve shrugged him off. Started to walk determinedly, because Robin was excited and she was bounding ahead and Nancy was smiling bright at her and he wasn’t going to ruin this even though he was currently swallowing back tears.

“Steve -”

“It’s fine,” Steve snapped. “It’s nothing, ok? We’re just going to a different fucking restaurant, it isn’t a big deal, ok?”

“Sweetheart, just breathe for a second, ok.”

“I don’t need to…I don’t need to fucking breathe, we need to get to the restaurant because we’re already later than we usually are which means we’ll get home later which means I’ll have to be quicker to get ready for bed tonight so I get to sleep on time so that I’m not so fucking tired tomorrow and -”

Eddie pulled him to his chest. Hugged him tight in the street, in view of any passerbys, because Steve was about to fall apart and there was no other option.

Steve was crying, was still stammering his way through his explanation, his world shrinking to just Eddie and his own heartbeat booming in his ears.

Faintly, as if underwater, he heard Robin and Nancy, their concerned voices saying his name, Eddie telling them he was going to take Steve home, that he was ok, that they should carry on to dinner and he’d call them later.

“…Mrs Brown, she was yelling at me and her voice makes my skin crawl and she wouldn’t stop yelling and everything’s so loud today -” Steve was whining into Eddie’s chest, as Eddie ran a hand over the back of his head, scrubbing his fingers through his locks in the way that Steve loved but right now he needed to get away from here, needed to go home.

“Shhh, baby,” Eddie murmured to him. “I’ve got ya, we’re gonna head back to the car, ok? You can come home with me, I’ll run you a bath if you want one and get you something to eat, ok?”

Steve nodded as best he could, followed Eddie back down the street.

“Robin -” he started, voice miserable as they approached his car, as he wordlessly handed the keys over to Eddie because they both knew he couldn’t drive in this state.

“ – will be fine,” Eddie told him gently, “she and Nancy will have a nice night, and we’ll hear about it tomorrow, ok?”

“I ruined it,” Steve sobbed, breath hitching.

“You didn’t,” Eddie insisted, opening the door for Steve and gently guiding him into the passenger seat. He reached over, clicked Steve’s belt in, pressed a brief kiss to the side of his head. “Sweetheart, you didn’t. You’re allowed to have a bad day, ok? Shit, you know I’ve had plenty, and you’ve looked after me every time. Let me look after you, ok?”

Eddie kept the music on a low volume as they drove to his trailer. Loud enough that Steve could hear it, that it softly filled the silence because silence would’ve been too loud right now, but quiet enough that it didn’t irritate him at all.

It was just right.

And Eddie had one hand on the wheel and one hand cradling Steve’s, rubbing circles into the skin over his knuckles, keeping Steve here, keeping him present.

Wayne was working a night shift, which was fortunate for them tonight. Not that Eddie’s uncle would’ve minded Steve being there in this state, but Steve hated anyone seeing him like this – the less people around right now, the better.

Eddie led him inside, sat him down on the couch, gently lifted Steve’s arms up above his head and peeled his t shirt off him.

Steve sighed in relief at the tag no longer itching his neck, and then Eddie was draping the throw from the back of the couch over his shoulders, the soft one Steve loved to burrow under while they watched movies.

Eddie lay down at the other end of the couch, gestured for Steve. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

Steve went. Draped himself over Eddie, fell into him easily, chest to chest. A soft noise escaped him when Eddie’s arms circled about his waist and squeezed, the pressure fucking lovely and Steve pushed his face into Eddie’s collar and hummed, index finger and thumb playing with a belt loop on his boyfriend’s jeans.

He wasn’t sure how long they lay like that. Eddie had turned the TV on at some stage, some nondescript show playing to give Steve a tiny bit of background noise. His eyes were closed, his breathing was evening out, his tears drying on his cheeks and on Eddie’s t shirt.

“Stevie?” Eddie whispered eventually. “Can I get you something to eat?”

“Toast?” Steve asked quietly, hopefully, his voice small.

Eddie smiled into his hair. “Sure.”

Steve tipped his head back a little, feeling groggy and heavy and slow but better, calmer. “And please can you -”

“- cut the crusts off?” Eddie chuckled softly. “’Course I will.”

Steve smiled tiredly. He didn’t always need his toast like that, but today was very much a no-crusts day.

“And then if you’re up to it I’d like to run you a bath, ok?”

Steve nodded, briefly unhappy when Eddie detangled himself from him, slipping out from under Steve carefully.

When he turned to head for the kitchen, Steve reached out, clutched at Eddie’ wrist.

“Eds?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Stevie.”

___

[cheshitora]

𝑳𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝑮𝒐, 𝑨𝑶𝑨┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Find out your AOA title track based on your Tokyo Revengers bias!!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw :: fem!reader, nsfw, suggestive themes, implied noncon (like a cat), they're a little pervy (like they stare a lot), lmk if there's anything i should tag <3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ che's verdict :: these aren't super nsfw or smutty. that's why i tagged "suggestive themes" because it's all more build up then anything lol. but i hope you guys like these anyway :)

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀 𝐂𝐚𝐭

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 1:00 ───ㅇ───── 3:39

Cat burglar. You had successfully robbed a multitude of art exhibits, office buildings and banks, earning yourself a reputation for your cat-like burglar outfit and agility. It was time to up your game though, and what better way than to rob one of the biggest luxury office buildings in the city. Now, imagine your surprise when you were caught red-handed, right in the middle of your act by a tired looking office employee who had stayed later for shift than he needed to be, trying to squeeze in extra time for a project he had been tasked to do. He was just as surprised to see you, donning your now-infamous cat burglar attire that he had seen on the news. But you weren’t about to go down without a fight, and some office dweeb wasn’t going to stop you from finding the business’s sweet profits.The struggle was evident between the two of you but his strength outmatched yours, finding yourself pinned under his weight as he gazed down at your now uncovered face, the mask you had been wearing knocked off during the fight. You pleaded with him to not turn you in, offering him anything he wanted in exchange. A sly grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he loosened his tie. It was late, sure, but he felt like he earned a fair reward for successfully tackling an armed burglar who was wanted by the cops. He leaned down close to ear, his hot breath against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. “Let me teach you a lesson about takin’ things that don’t belong to you.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Ran Haitani, Izana Kurokawa, Naoto Tachibana, Kokonoi Hajime, Sanzu Haruchiyo

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 1:07 ───ㅇ───── 3:16

Summer heat, loud screams, cheers and hoots, banners in the air - nothing was better than sitting in a live audience watching your athlete husband in the height of his game. An MVP player, the crowd of fans chanting his name like a mantra throughout the expansive stadium. Even with a gaggle of fans and cheerleaders rooting for his success, he always looked into the crowd for you, the one who’s supported his dream and ambitions since day one. You were his personal cheerleader and his biggest fan, and after another successful game, he found himself running towards the sidelines to wrap you in a tight, sweaty embrace, taking you by surprise as he excitedly pressed his lips against yours. The journey home was exhilarating as the two of you recounted the events of the game just hours earlier. But as you neared your final destination for the night, your husband crept his hand from its place on your knee up your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze, his eyes never leaving the road ahead as he drove. Suddenly, you really couldn’t wait to get home.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Ken Ryuguji, Takemichi Hanagaki, Sano Manjiro, Kakucho Hitto, Inui Seishu

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐭

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 0:48 ──ㅇ────── 2:59

Short skirt, legs on full display. He gets rock hard whenever you sport your favorite miniskirts, anticipating the moment when he can finally catch you alone. It almost hurts your feelings when you think he’s not paying attention to the way your ass peeks out of your skirt from the slightest shift of your movement but believe me, he’s definitely watching, almost stalking like a hawk with its sight set on a delectable mouse to feast on. He can almost feel his hand running up your leg, starting at your ankles and slowly working his way up to your exposed thighs. He wanted to know the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin as he caresses you, eyes darting up to meet yours as he gently (or maybe not so gently) bites down on the inside of your thigh. Denim, pleated, micro, with a slit - it didn’t matter. He enjoyed seeing you in skirts. He always had his sight set on you the minute you appeared with your legs out. He was just waiting for the moment when you finally caught him staring. And when you finally did, he didn’t break eye contact with you, giving you a smug grin, letting you know he was, in fact, checking out those nice legs of yours. Maybe he'll shy away if he's too flustered by the notion that you've caught him ogling you, maybe. Too bad you didn’t know what he was thinking, or did you?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Baji Keisuke, Souya Kawata, Chifuyu Matsuno, Mitsuya Takashi, Hakkai Shiba

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 0:51 ──ㅇ────── 3:07

Lifeguarding sucks for some but to him, it wasn’t all bad. He enjoyed the sun, enjoyed the feel of the hot sand beneath his feet and the array of women to check out across the terrain or more specifically, he liked to look at you. His tall, wooden chair offered him perfect access to a view of you with your friends, sunglasses resting on the bridge of your nose as you prepared to head towards the cool ocean. One of your friends nudged your side, whispering in your ear about the “hot lifeguard totally checking you out”. And indeed, there he was, leering. You propped your sunglasses on the top of your head as you shot him a knowing smile, with him returning it with one of his own. What a little tease you were, pulling up the straps of your bikini bottom just so your ass peeked out a little more than necessary. If he was gonna stare, might as well put on a show for him. His eyes traced the soft curves of your wet body, taking note of the way your nipples poked through the slick fabric of your bikini top whenever a subtle chill breeze swept by or the way droplets of aqua trickled down your tanning body every time you rose from the water. Yeah, he was definitely rock hard, his cock straining against the material of his red lifeguarding shorts and for a moment, he was content with just watching you, blocking out all other sounds and sights as if they were afterthoughts. But even he couldn’t hide his growing excitement when you seductively made your way towards his station. Maybe lifeguarding didn’t suck as much as he thought.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Hanma Shuji, Rindou Haitani, Kazutora Hanemiya, Nahoya Kawata, Shion Madarame

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ che's last minute note :: shiiiit this was fun. i might just do more of these 🤭 and maybe next time, there actually will be smut lol