#low on spoons but pushed through to finish this

[everrinsly]

life with sae vibes.

let him hear with sae. smut. nsfw. very suggestive. mature. | not proofread.

more reads!

~~~~~

It might've been a mistake... falling asleep on the living room, wearing nothing but Sae's jersey—

Because you woke up to heat.

To slick, wet pressure.

To a thick, slow drag of Sae’s cock already deep inside you, dragging out and back in with maddening precision and the sound of your own broken moan in the sheets.

“Sae—mmph—wh…?”

His hips never stopped rutting against you as a free hand slid around your throat, thumb brushing under your jaw as he pressed kisses to the back of your neck, to your shoulder blades, nipping at all your soft skin exposed.

You couldn't see, but you felt his grin. (His smug ass grin).

“Morning, baby.”

Your lashes fluttered, thighs already trembling from how full you feel.

“You’re already—ngh—” You voice was broken, all breathless and high.

“Already inside?” he finished for you, voice husky with sleep. “You were warm. Soft. Wet in your sleep, too. And backing that pretty ass against me. Couldn’t help it.”

You shivered, and something curled again in your lower stomach.

"I—I—S-Sae—I don't think I w-was—"

"But you were, baby. You were," he murmured in your ear, all condescending—

Okay, maybe you were.

You faintly remembered pressing back against Sae unconsciously in your sleep. The outline of his hard cock rubbing in your ass in the best way possible. Even in your sleep were you drawn to him, gravitated towards him like a magnet.

His hand splayed across your stomach, no effort of pulling away. If anything, he shifted closer with a low groan of desperation. "You keep doing that, baby... and you're gonna get fucked all day tomorrow."

—so now, you're here. On the couch. He was spooning you from behind, covers kicked off, your body bare and folded perfectly into his. Every lilt, every dip. Hips moved with lazy, deep thrusts, soaking wet from how easily he slides through your slick.

And then—

Ding dong.

Your eyes snapped open, body stiffening. Euphoria replaced by humiliation.

“S-Sae—!”

He didn't stop. He never stopped when it came to you.

“Relax,” he murmured, licking the shell of ear. He thrusted into you a little harder, groaning softly at the way you clench. “That’s just Rin.”

“Rin—?!” you gasp, mortified. “You invited your brother over?!”

He hummed, like it’s nothing. Still fucking into you. Still ruining you.

“Said he’d drop off breakfast after his morning drills. Told him to swing by early.”

You tried to twist around, a small hand reaching behind to push slightly at his hips.

Keyword, tried—

Because he only tightened his grip around your waist with one arm. The other... under your head, locking around your neck. Biceps bulging, flexing, squeezing. Every part of him was holding you firmly in place as he ruts into you with smooth, brutal rhythm.

The sound of skin-on-skin was filthy. Every squelch of your core motivated him.

“And you—ah—thought t-this w-was a good—ah—ah—idea?!”

“I didn’t plan on fucking you through it,” he murmured, now licking the corner of your jaw, voice pure sin. “But you were whining in your sleep. Moaning. Arching so prettily. Like you wanted it. Like you wanted me to fuckin' wreck your pussy."

You squirmed at his words, breathing hitched, one hand slapping over your mouth to muffle the broken sounds slipping out.

Sae noticed.

And he was not having it.

“Don’t bother,” he says darkly, voice full of sick amusement. “I locked the front door. Rin’s just gonna have to wait.”

Another deep, punishing thrust, and you cry out, body jerking, eyes squeezing shut. You hands now removed from your mouth to claw his veiny forearms.

“You hear that?” Sae panted, fucking into you harder now. “You want him to hear it? Hear how ruined you sound? How good I’m fucking you?”

And in Sae's twisted mind—god, he so desperately wanted Rin to hear.

Because he hated, absolutely hated, how you cared for Rin. How you doted on him, coddled him, fussed over him. Made him soup after every intensive practice. Spoon-fed him when he got sick from rookie training. Called him after practice to make sure he showered in the locker rooms, so he wouldn't get sick from his cooling sweat.

Fuck, he hated all that shit.

But he loved (loves) you. So he put up with it—

But not right now. Right now, you were his, solely his. And he wanted Rin to know. He wanted Rin to hear how fucked out you sounded for Sae. Sae. Sae. Just Sae.

But, you pretty little thing, you shook your head frantically, too ruined to respond verbally.

Sae laughed darkly, low and raspy in your ear. Then—

He pushed back in with a particularly deep thrust. Unwavering, unrelenting. A pace that was brutal. And your body betrayed you, back arching, legs shaking, getting louder the closer you get.

And then?

His phone vibrates. Your phone vibrates. Both on the nightstand.

Rin Itoshi — [1 message]

“I’m outside. You guys good?”

You whimpered thighs trembling. You were so close. You could die.

Sae leaned forward, eyes flicking to the lit-up notification screens, reading it over your shoulder. And then he smirked, thrusting even harder.

"AH—ah—S-Sae, no—please—p-please—" You sobbed loudly, vision blurred with tears from how stimulated you are.

Sae sucked on the crevice of your neck, hiding his grin. Oh. There we go. Rin definitely heard that one.

“You’re gonna come with my brother standing ten feet from the door,” he growled. “You gonna do that for me, baby? Yeah?"

He gripped your jaw, fingers trailing to squeeze your cheeks until a string of drool left your opened mouth and dribbled down your chin. He slightly turned your face to look at him over your shoulders.

"Answer me, sweet baby? You gonna come for me? With him just outside? Huh?"

His pace was feral. Pounding into you with harsh thrusts. In and out. In and out. Tongue darting out to lick your spit off your chin.

"You wanna be my good girl, baby?"

Yes, yes, you so desperately wanted to be his good girl. Sae's good girl. So you dropped whatever's left of your composure—

And moaned recklessly into the open space of the living room, the symphony of your 'ah-ah-ahs' bouncing off the walls. Body spasmed as you came hard, clenching around him while he groaned your name into your skin, chasing his high, holding your hips still while he filled you, thick and hot and deep.

You collapsed.

Breathless.

Destroyed.

And Sae?

Sae kissed your jaw, glancing at his phone again like he has all the time in the world.

“I’ll go unlock the door in a sec,” he said casually, slipping out of you, your release leaking down your thighs. “Or maybe I’ll let him keep knocking while I eat you out next.”

[frenchfriedgiraffe]

i miss them sooo much :(

[norrisradio]

little spoon

⚡︎ PAIRING: lando norris x reader | ⚡︎ WC: 1.1K ⚡︎ GENRE: fluff! ⚡︎ INCOMING RADIO: based on the latest landolog and the chicken shop date where lando said he'd never been little spoon // dedicated to @tsunodaradio, to whom i promised little spoon! lando

Lando melts into you before the door even shuts, his body sagging forward, forehead finding the curve of your shoulder like a prayer answered.

His breath is uneven, frayed at the edges, warm where it fans against your collarbone. His entire body trembles—fine, imperceptible shivers rolling through muscle and sinew, the remnants of a day spent wringing himself out to the last drop.

You feel it in the weight of him, how he isn’t just leaning against you but pouring himself into you, a slow and silent collapse.

He smells of sweat dried into fabric, of rubber and asphalt, of adrenaline still lingering in his bloodstream. His shirt clings to his back, damp and heavy, and when your hand slides up his spine, your fingers meet heat—his body still burning from exertion, from the sprints, from the bike, from pushing himself to his absolute limit just hours ago.

“Tough one?” you murmur, pressing your lips into his curls. They’re damp too, still tangled from his helmet, still holding the weight of everything he’s had to endure today.

He exhales, the sound thin, almost empty. “Yeah.”

Just that. No complaints, no details, just the word. But his body tells the rest of the story—the way his fingers twitch uselessly against your waist, the way his knees buckle slightly, how his weight leans into you so fully, so completely, like standing on his own is simply too much.

“You made it through,” you say, voice soft, coaxing, the way you would speak to something fragile.

Lando hums, a sound low and breathy, like the simple act of existing is a burden.

You let him stay there, let him take from you, let him breathe in your presence, let him feel you. Your fingers card through his curls, untangling the mess left behind by hours of training, hours of pushing, hours of his body being reduced to numbers and stats and thresholds. He shudders when you scratch lightly at his scalp, his body sagging further, breath hitching on a sound that’s almost embarrassing in its relief.

“Felt like I was dying,” he mumbles. “Lower body stuff first. It wasn’t too bad, at the start.”

You hum in sympathy, fingers still moving, and he leans into it, like a cat seeking warmth.  “I know. Keep going.”

“Neck strength test was next,” he says, voice muffled against your shoulder. “Thought Jon was going to pull my head clean off.”

You smile softly at the absurdity of it, but Lando isn’t smiling. He groans instead, and you can feel his body tighten with the memory.

“Then the VO2 max test…” He swallows, and you feel the shudder that runs through him. “They make me run on a treadmill, but they keep pushing the incline up, and the speed’s faster than I can keep up with. It’s supposed to push me to exhaustion, but by the end, I was pretty much… ready to just collapse right there.” 

You press your lips into his temple. “But you didn’t.”

“I should have,” he argues, and you laugh softly, rubbing little circles into his scalp.

He sighs, body finally slackening, boneless in your arms.

You sigh in sympathy, brushing your lips across his temple. “And the heat test?”

He groans. “The worst. Forty degrees. I had to ride the bike for 30 minutes under that heat, my body was a furnace. I nearly couldn’t finish it.” His voice drops into a whisper. “But I did. Nearly threw up.”

You press your lips into his skin, and he leans into it, a little shaky, like your touch is the only thing anchoring him to the floor.

“You’re incredible,” you whisper.

He hums, barely a sound, and it feels like he’s gone somewhere quieter now, somewhere inside himself where the noise of the day doesn’t reach.

You let him stay there, holding him as he starts to fall into the silence, and when he finally looks up, his eyes are tired, but there’s something softer in them—something more vulnerable than you’re used to.

You press a kiss to the crown of his head.

“Come on,” you murmur. “Bed.”

It takes effort to peel himself away from you, but he follows, sluggish and heavy, through the quiet hum of your apartment. He moves like his body doesn’t belong to him anymore, bumping into corners, misjudging the distance between the doorframe and his shoulder. You let him trail behind you, watching him in the mirror as you wash your face, and when you glance over, he’s just standing there, blinking slowly, watching you.

“You’re staring,” you say, voice light.

He shrugs. “You’re pretty.”

His voice is a whisper now, something slow and weightless.

He moves on autopilot, brushing his teeth, stripping out of his sweat-dampened clothes, tugging on one of the old shirts he keeps here. And then, when he finally climbs into bed, he does something he never does.

He turns onto his side, pressing his back against your chest, curling into himself.

It surprises you. Because Lando isn’t this—he isn’t the one who seeks comfort, he isn’t the one who clings. He’s the protector, the one who holds you. The one who fits himself around you at night, arm draped over your waist, fingers skimming your ribs, lips pressed into the back of your neck. That’s how it always is. That’s how he likes it.

But not tonight.

Tonight, his body is heavy with exhaustion, his mind still buzzing, and he just wants. Wants to be held, wants to be soothed, wants to let go for once.

So you let him.

You press yourself against him, wrap an arm around his waist, nose nuzzling against the nape of his neck. Your fingers slip beneath the hem of his shirt, tracing slow, gentle shapes into his skin.

He exhales, long and slow, like all the tension in his body is finally bleeding out.

“You wanna be the little spoon tonight?” you tease, voice half-laughing, warm against his skin.

Lando makes a small, sleepy noise, the kind that makes your chest ache with fondness.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice muffled against your sheets.

“Always,” you murmur. “You’ve got me.”

Your lips press against his shoulder, soft and lingering, your touch featherlight where it maps the lines of his ribs.

And in this moment—after the sprints, the heat, the tests, and the pain—you both drift into a quiet, steady rhythm. Because no matter how much he gives of himself, no matter how much he sacrifices for his dream, this is the part of the day that truly matters.

He has you.

And tonight, that’s all he needs.

[ilium-ilia]

kiss the skin that crawls

john price x fem!reader | the surrogate au | masterlist

Part Two: terms and conditions

 You’re not sure why you dressed up for tonight. 

A cream colored blouse and a periwinkle skirt cling to your body as a sweet zephyr attempts to rip them from your form. You feel the flow of wind drift up your skirt, down your blouse, through the fibers, all to cool your feverish skin. While you’re certain the occasion doesn’t call for it, you’ve even worn your kitten heels, though you’re beginning to regret wearing them due to the way they tend to stick in the cracks of the brick path that leads up to Kate and Lottie’s rental home. 

Truly, it is a beautiful building. Freshly trimmed hedges, flowers in full bloom, slanted windows that make the entire home look peaceful, as if it’s a baronial beast resting in deep slumber—the nature surrounding you should quell your nerves, but you find perspiration lining your palms faster than you can wipe them clean on your shirt. 

This is nothing—this dinner, this minor celebration—at least, that’s what you attempt to tell yourself as you approach the door. There’s nothing for you to prove; Kate and Lottie seem very happy with you being their surrogate. This is a friendly get together. A kindness they bestow upon you in thanks for giving them the one thing they cannot create themselves; the one thing they so desperately desire that’s just beyond their reach. A chance to meet the man whose baby you’ll carry for the next nine months—nothing more. 

Kate answers the door shortly after your first round of knocks. She appears more or less the same as she did the first day you met her—hair pulled back into a bun, fringe covering her forehead, eyes creasing as she greets you with a polite smile. Stepping back, she welcomes you inside, and you are instantly enveloped by the warmth of a stove and the mouthwatering aroma of chicken and potatoes. 

“You’re just in time, Lottie’s almost finished up with dinner,” she says with a hum before leading you into the kitchen. 

Thanks to your meeting with them earlier in the week, you’re already familiar with the room—the cupboards, the counters, the sink—

—the man washing dishes. 

Lottie obscures your view of John as she bends over the stove, but he towers over her by a dizzying amount of inches. Back turned to you, you’re able to see the way his scapulas dance through the cotton of his shirt as he scrubs at freshly used pots and pans, head bent forward so as to not hit his skull on the low hanging lamp hovering above him. 

He’s dressed similarly to the picture you were shown of him; dark blue jeans hugging wide hips, grey cotton constricting around thick biceps—you don’t mean to stare, but you do. He’s a bear; one of the stronger men you’ve ever seen. You can’t help but think that Kate and Lottie picked a good donor. 

For genetic reasons, of course. 

“Oh, there you are! So good to see you, hun!” Lottie’s alluring voice bleeds through the air and drowns out the singing of the sink as she turns to you with a beaming smile. Hands shoved into oven mitts, she gestures to a small stack of plates and cutlery to your right before she turns her attention to the oven. “Would you be a dear and set the table for me please?” 

Glad to have something of a distraction, you take the items into your hand before wandering off to the dining table the next room over. It’s a rather intimate piece of furniture—a small square table made of birchwood and only four matching chairs. No room to hide or run. Eye contact unavoidable. Near mandatory. You try not to think about it as you line plates up along the seats, forks, spoons, and knives even in their rows, napkins folded into pristine squares. 

As your hands grip the back of one of the chairs, your mind starts to whisper. A question blooms deep in your cortex, what are you doing here? Fight or flight. Survival of the fittest. Convinced your brain cannot tell the difference between death and a simple dinner, you push the notion out of your head as Lottie begins to present the dishes along the table and everyone takes their seats. 

Pot pie, gravy, corn, green beans, pitchers of water, cups of ice—it’s a proper meal, something Lottie certainly went above and beyond to prepare. Despite your anxiety, your stomach still constricts in hunger, finally having grown upset at you for skipping lunch because your nerves simply made your throat feel too tight. You find yourself stuck to your chair, hands unmoving from your lap, when you look across the table. 

John sits in your direct sight now, and you hate so much to admit it, but the pictures you’ve seen of him don’t do him justice. The tincture of his eyes are more vibrant in person, a deep blue—darker and sings louder than the deepest parts of the ocean you’ve witnessed on London’s docks. If you strain hard enough, you realize you can catch the faintest hint of fresh tobacco and sandalwood—earthy, fresh, like petrichor in summer, or the forest in autumn. 

“Well, go on then,” Lottie urges, excitedly waving her hands. “Eat up! I made plenty for everyone.” 

Unusually taciturn, you continue to sit with twitching fingers as you figure out where to start. For a moment, the table is still. No one stirs. No one dares to reach for the food everyone so obviously craves, they sit with shifting eyes, curious quirks in their lips—

—John is the first person to move, and he does not travel where you expect him to. 

Arm reaching across the table, he steals your plate from its mat. Blinking, you stare up at him with parted lips—mouth forming a silent question—as you watch him begin to dish your plate for you. Wooden spoon taps against fine china as he supplies a sufficient amount of food before he curiously presents the plate to you with raised brows. 

“More?” he asks. 

Swallowing, you shake your head. “No, that’s perfect. Thank you.” 

He then goes on to do the same to everyone else before serving his own plate. Stunned, you find yourself enraptured by him. Chivalrous and quiet—things you don’t often find in men these days—it’s hard to look away from how his fingers dwarf his cutlery as he devours the meal. In order to smother the tickle of thoughts in the back of your mind, you find yourself following suit, desperately welcoming any distraction. 

Dinner goes about as well as you expect it to. Delicious food (Lottie had talked up her main dish so much and had delivered so wonderfully), small talk, vague inside jokes between Kate and John that you don’t quite catch; it’s oddly formal. Stiff, like the skin of domestic life doesn’t quite fit over their bodies; like they don’t know how to truly act when they aren’t doing business. 

When the main course is finished, Lottie reveals that she’s made a peach cobbler for dessert. Freshly warmed, she presents the treat to you topped with vanilla ice cream, and you can hardly hold back your hum at the cinnamon that melts on your tongue. John chuckles and makes a comment about how she’s going to fatten him up, and you try not to stare too long when he pats the soft layer of his lower stomach. 

This dinner is going to kill you, but you tell yourself the payment is worth it. 

“Alright. Should we talk specifics, then?” Kate prompts once you’re halfway through your cobbler. 

Quirking your head, you realize she’s glancing back and forth between you and John, eyes studious. Humming, John wipes his mouth and facial hair on a napkin before nodding and diverting his full attention to Kate and the conversation she’s attempting to kick up. 

“Specifics?” you repeat. 

“About your surrogacy and the baby,” she confirms. 

Embarrassment washes over you in a thick wave that clogs every vein in your body. Of course that’s what she meant. What else are you here for?

“Yes, right. Well—erm—do we have appointments then?” you question. 

Kate’s eyes flicker to the man across from you. “That’ll be up to you and John to schedule.” 

Something in her tone has your palms beginning to sweat again. There’s a disconnect somewhere in your psyche—something that you can’t quite make sense of. Still, pretending to be put together, you nod as if you’re following along with what she’s implicating. 

“Easy enough,” you say, mustering as much confidence as you’re able to. “Is there a clinic that you’re corresponding with? A doctor we should be working through?” 

“Clinic?” Lottie’s confusion cuts through the conversation like a hot knife through butter, and the fallout has your throat constricting. 

“Yes. You know, for the embryo transfer and procedure?” you explain. 

“There won’t be any need for that,” Kate says casually. 

Everything crumbles. This idea of being a proper surrogate, the carrier of a child—it hits you with the force of hurricane winds, towering waves, a slap to the face. The ice cream that sits upon your cobbler has turned into liquid, but your stomach no longer craves anything as decadent as that. 

“I’m sorry,” you say with a nervous titter. “Are you… are you wanting me to have sex with John?” 

“How else are we supposed to get the baby in there?” he asks with a sonorous chuckle. 

You realize just how deep you are in this situation—so far beneath the waves that your screams wouldn’t even bubble at the surface. Out of the kindness of your heart, you were willing to help Kate and Lottie with this next step in their life, but you’re not sure you can chew and swallow down what you’re being presented with now. Having sex with a stranger. Putting more skin in the game than you ever expected. 

“It’s easier this way,” Kate explains after a moment's silence. “It’s less invasive, more natural on the body, less risk of rejection and miscarriage. Frankly, my two main priorities are ensuring that both you and the baby are healthy throughout this entire pregnancy, and this gives us the best chance at that.” 

Palms flat on the table, you try to steady yourself even though the world feels like it’s moving beneath your very feet. Your gaze flickers from Kate to John—who sits with a polite smile as if it can obscure the way he’s being presented like a stallion for breeding—and then to Lottie who looks eager to hear your reply. So many eyes on you, piercing through you, pinning you in place, ready to flay you open. 

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Kate reminds. “We understand if you need more time to think about it.” 

“No.” The word bleeds between your lips like spring water from the earth, fresh and clear, moisture dawning on a new day. “No, that’s fine. I was just caught off guard is all.” 

Fingers tapping anxiously against the table, Lottie leans forward, eyes glistening like dew drops on blades of grass. “So you’ll do it?” 

Before you lies a scale. Your options are weighed; take their offer, have a one night stand with a stranger, have a child, and walk away much richer, or leave and continue your life the same way you always have. Struggling, living in a crumbling home, with the dreams of earning the life you’ve wished for since you were a child far out of your reach. 

The answer is clear—you’ll never find an opportunity like this again. 

“Of course. Yes, this is no problem at all,” you smile. 

Lottie nearly leaps across the table to smother you in her arms, but instead she reaches out and takes your hands into hers. Moisture lines her eyes, and you see the way the corners of her lips quiver as she thanks you, thumbs squeezing tight into the back of your hands. 

With everything squared away and the evening growing into night, you and John assist the Laswell’s in cleaning up after the meal. Back on dish duty again, he cleans all the plates and cutlery while you dry the lingering droplets of water off with a teatowel. 

Standing next to him has put you in closer proximity than you’ve ever been, though you know the distance between you is rapidly closing. That sillage of tobacco and sandalwood washes over you again as he hands you a cup to dry. Out of everyone that you could have been paired to conceive a child with, you’re glad it’s John. There are certainly worse choices in the world. 

“I apologize if I came off a bit strong earlier,” John says as he rinses off a plate. “I was under the impression you were already made aware of everything.” 

“Oh, it’s alright,” you assure. “I was just more confused than anything else, but now that everything is out in the open it’s… easier to comprehend, I suppose.” 

“I’m clean, if you’re worried about it at all. Could even show you the test results, if you’d like,” he adds. 

Chuckling, you take the final dish from him and begin to dry it as you shake your head. “That’s quite alright, I’ll take your word for it.” 

Once you’re finished with your task, you hand the dish to Lottie so it can be stored away with the others before you turn your full attention to John. Despite his broad and roughened exterior, he looks at you tenderly, as if he’s beholding some soft creature. Swallowing, you hand the towel out for him to dry his hands off with, and you try not to stare at the darkened hair on his fingers and the backs of his hands. 

“So… I suppose we should set up an appointment for our… coitus,” you say stiffly. 

John chuckles. He always does. His eyes brighten as he tosses the towel over his shoulder as the two of you iron out the fine details. A date that works. An exchange of phone numbers. By the end of it, things begin to manifest into something so tangible you’re left with a spinning head, yet you persevere with a smile nonetheless. 

“It was lovely meeting you,” John says softly as he extends his hand to you. 

Returning the gesture, you reach for him, ready to shake hands, but he captures your fingers instead. Thumb running over your knuckles, he raises them to his mouth where he presses a soft kiss against your skin, facial hair tickling your metacarpals in the process. Heat courses through you as you stare at him, eyes focused on his lips locking against your body as if he can’t wait to get a taste of you. 

“I’ll see you soon, love.”

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[sulkingheichou012]

Into the Dungeon with You

Pairing: Jinwoo x Reader

Genre: RomCom, Action, Smut

Warning: Description of violence and profanity.

Summary: Jinwoo frowned as a new system notification appeared before him.

[Special Reward Successfully Claimed.]

Author's note: I'm happy that some of you are enjoying my silly work! Yes, if you're asking to be tagged—sure! 😊

Chapter 18

Y/N had thought she understood Jinwoo.

Stoic. Calm. Quiet.

A man who rarely showed emotion unless someone threatened his family or the world.

But now?

Now, Jinwoo was her husband.

Jinwoo was in full “husband unlocked, affection level MAX” mode.

The problem?

He wouldn’t. Stop. Touching. Her.

Y/N woke up tangled in limbs. Jinwoo was spooning her like he was afraid she’d vanish. One leg thrown over her hip. One arm across her waist. His face in her hair. And his hand—ahem—somewhere that made her blush daily.

“Jinwoo…” she whispered. “Mmh.” He didn’t even open his eyes. “You’re squeezing.” “I’m making sure you’re real.”

Y/N groaned, both flattered and mildly panicked.

Jinwoo found... other priorities.

Y/N was sitting at her desk, reviewing dungeon reports. Jinwoo walked in. Silent. Shadow Monarch smooth. Until he wasn’t. Until he planted his hands on either side of her chair and leaned in. His breath ghosted over her ear. “Take a break.” “I’m busy,” she muttered. He kissed just behind her ear. “Five minutes.” “No.” His lips brushed lower, down her neck. “I can make you forget paperwork.” Y/N swallowed. “I—Jinwoo!” And then he bit her gently.

She never finished those reports.

Y/N tried. Really, she did. She thought maybe tonight she’d cook dinner in peace. But no.

Jinwoo was behind her at the stove. Again. Arms around her waist. Again. Chin on her shoulder. And his hands? “Jinwoo,” she warned. “Yes?” Innocent. “Hands above the waist.” “They are.” “No, they’re not!” He hummed. “That’s a matter of perspective.”

She dropped the spoon. And found herself carried bridal-style to the couch. Dinner burned.

Every night.

…a battlefield. One Y/N lost. Every. Time.

He’d pull her close. Slide his fingers through her hair. Brush kisses over her temple. And then— “Wife,” he whispered, reverent. “You do remember I’m your wife every day, right?” she teased. “Mhm.” His gaze was molten. “But I like saying it. Because now you’re mine.” She arched a brow. “I was yours before.” “Now it’s forever.”

Cue: steamy kisses. Cue: hands on her waist. Cue: Jinwoo exploring every inch of her like it was the first time.

And that stamina recovery skill? It was real. Y/N had to beg for mercy.

“Jinwoo, wait—nooo!” “Yes,” he growled, smirking. “Yesss.”

The soft hum of the coffee maker filled the kitchen, mingling with the sizzle of bacon in the pan. Y/N stood at the counter, barefoot in nothing but Jinwoo’s oversized black shirt, the hem brushing against her thighs. Her hair was still tousled from sleep—or rather, from the lack of it, thanks to the last night’s stamina training lead by Jinwoo. The scent of fresh coffee and toasted bread wafted through the air as she flipped a pancake, her hips swaying slightly to an imaginary tune.

Jinwoo leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with a lazy, predatory grin. He’d slipped on a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, leaving his chiseled torso bare. The honeymoon had been a blur of tangled sheets and whispered promises, but being back home didn’t mean the fire had dimmed. If anything, seeing Y/N in his shirt, moving so casually in their space, only stoked it higher.

“Smells good,” he said, his voice low and rough from sleep, though his eyes weren’t on the food.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, catching the heat in his gaze. “The pancakes or me?” she teased, smirking as she turned back to the stove.

“Both,” he replied, pushing off the wall and stalking toward her. His footsteps were silent, but she felt his presence before his hands even touched her—warm, calloused fingers sliding over her hips, pulling her back against him.

“Jinwoo,” she laughed, half-protesting as she tried to focus on flipping the bacon. “I’m gonna burn breakfast. AGAIN..”

“Let it burn,” he murmured against her ear, his breath hot as his lips grazed her neck. His hands slipped under the shirt, tracing the curve of her waist before dipping lower, teasing the edge of her panties. “I’m hungry for something else.”

Her breath hitched, the spatula trembling in her hand. “You’re insatiable,” she managed, though her voice was already wavering, her body leaning into his touch despite herself.

“Says the one who kept me up all night,” he shot back, nipping at her earlobe. One hand slid up to cup her breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak, while the other dipped beneath the fabric between her thighs, finding her already slick with want. “Seems like you’re not complaining.”

“Jinwoo—” Her protest melted into a moan as he pressed himself harder against her, the evidence of his arousal unmistakable through the thin sweatpants. The bacon popped in the pan, forgotten, as he spun her around to face him, pinning her against the counter.

His lips crashed into hers, hungry and unrelenting, tasting of last night’s wine and the promise of more. She clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he hoisted her up, setting her on the edge of the counter. The shirt rode up, exposing her to the cool air—and to him. His eyes darkened, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he dropped to his knees.

“Breakfast can wait,” he said, voice thick with lust, before burying his face between her thighs.

Y/N gasped, her hands flying to his hair, tugging at the dark strands as his tongue worked her over with ruthless precision. He knew her too well—every spot, every rhythm that made her unravel. The kitchen filled with her breathless moans, the coffee maker beeping in the background like a distant applause. Her legs trembled, hooked over his shoulders, and he gripped her thighs tighter, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

“Jinwoo—oh god—” She was close, teetering on the edge, when he pulled back just enough to look up at her, lips glistening, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Not yet,” he said, standing and tugging his sweatpants down just enough to free himself. He was hard, aching, and the sight of him made her whimper. He stepped between her legs, aligning himself with her entrance, teasing her with the tip. “I want to feel you when you come.”

She didn’t have time to respond before he thrust into her, deep and unrelenting, filling her completely. The counter creaked under them as he set a brutal pace, hands gripping her hips to pull her into every stroke. Y/N’s head tipped back, a string of curses spilling from her lips as pleasure crashed through her. The kitchen was a mess of heat and sound—the slap of skin, the clatter of a spatula hitting the floor, her cries mingling with his grunts.

“Fuck, you’re perfect, I love you,” he rasped, one hand sliding up to tangle in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat. He bit down lightly, marking her as his, and that was enough to send her over the edge. She shattered around him, clenching tight, her whole body shaking as she came undone.

Jinwoo groaned, following her a moment later, spilling inside her with a final, shuddering thrust. They stayed like that, panting and tangled, until the smell of charred bacon finally broke through the haze.

Y/N laughed weakly, shoving at his chest. “You did let it burn.”

He smirked, kissing her slow and deep, still buried inside her. “Worth it.”

Several months, dozens of late-night snack runs, and countless stamina training have passed.

Fenrir had become strangely clingy.

Wherever Y/N went, the giant primordial wolf followed. Silent, looming, and attentive. His shadowy fur blended easily into the castle walls, and his glowing eyes tracked every move she made.

To most, it was unsettling. To Y/N, it was endearing… if a bit much.

“Fenrir,” Y/N sighed one morning, balancing a tray of snacks in her hands. “I love you, but you’re breathing down my neck.”

The massive wolf huffed quietly through his nose but didn’t budge from his spot at her side.

“I’m not helpless,” she said with a grin. “I can fight too, remember?”

Fenrir remained unmoving, his gaze dropping briefly to her midsection.

“You carry more than your own life now, my Queen,” Fenrir thought, ancient and knowing. “You carry the legacy of our King, and of this world yet to come.”

Y/N blinked at his look. “What? What’s that look?” No answer. Only quiet, dignified silence.

But Fenrir was already certain. He had felt it—the pulse of a life unlike any other. Small, yes. Fragile… not quite. There was power stirring within Y/N. Ancient, deep, and coiled like a newborn star.

“This child will eclipse even the light of this world,” he mused silently. “And I shall be its first sentinel.”

Y/N chuckled, scratching behind his ear without understanding the full weight of his presence. “You’re being weird today.”

Fenrir closed his eyes, indulging her affection briefly. But his mind was ever watchful. Silent guardian of life.

Over the next few days, Fenrir did not leave Y/N' side.

He sat at the edge of every room. He watched over her as she napped in the garden, his great form a living monument beside her. His breathing was so silent that even Beru once mistook him for a statue.

Jinwoo noticed. “Has he been like this all day?”

Y/N nodded, amused. “Yep. Clingy puppy mode.”

Fenrir snorted at the label, though his great body remained still.

“Puppy,” he mused, almost offended. “If only you knew, little Queen. I was ancient before your stars were born.” Still… he allowed the label. For her.

As they walked inside, Jinwoo kept an arm around Y/N. Fenrir followed. Unseen. Unheard. Watching.

The days after Fenrir’s mysterious behavior?

Pure chaos.

Y/N woke up clingier than ever. But also… bitey.

Jinwoo was lying on the couch, minding his own business, when suddenly— “Chomp.” Her teeth sank into his cheek. “Y/N… what are you doing?” he asked patiently. “I dunno,” she mumbled, still attached. “You’re… biting me.” “It’s because you’re so cute.” Chomp. “…I’m glad you think so.”

Later that night? Chomp. On his bicep. “I’m not food, you know,” he murmured. “You taste like husband,” she shrugged.

At 2:00 AM, Y/N shook him awake. “Jinwoo.” “Hm?” “I want strawberries.” “…Okay.”

Shadow exchange. Strawberries obtained. He returned… Y/N was asleep.

At 3:15 AM. “Jinwoo.” “…Yes?” “I want tteokbokki.” “Coming right up.”

Shadow exchange. Fresh tteokbokki. He returned… Y/N stared at it. “…I changed my mind.” “…To what?” “Chocolate milk.” Jinwoo sighed. “Got it.” Shadow exchange again. Chocolate milk. He returned… Y/N was snoring.

Y/N was happily chatting with Mrs. Sung in the living room, both of them perched on the couch like detectives dissecting a major scandal. Their hands flew through the air as they reenacted scenes, eyes wide with shared disbelief.

“Eomma! Have you seen the latest episode?!” Y/N gasped, grabbing Mrs. Sung’s arm like it was a lifeline. Mrs. Sung nodded, scandalized. “I did! That cheating man got caught—red-handed! With the other woman! In her car!” Y/N clutched her chest like she’d been personally betrayed. “And when she smacked him in front of everyone?! I swear I heard that slap in my soul!” Mrs. Sung leaned closer, lowering her voice. “You know, they say she practiced her slap on a melon to get the sound just right.”

At that moment, Jinwoo casually walked by, sipping his coffee. Y/N slowly turned her head to give him the look. The silent warning. The don’t you dare stare. Jinwoo froze, lowering his mug just slightly. “…What did I do?” Mrs. Sung patted Y/N’ hand approvingly. “That’s right. You let them know.” Y/N gave a tiny nod of solidarity… then blinked, her fingers tightening slightly. The room tilted, just for a second.

“Ah…” she murmured faintly. Mrs. Sung immediately caught her shoulder. “Y/N? Are you alright?” Jinwoo was already there in an instant, coffee abandoned, his hand steadying her waist. “What’s wrong?” His voice dipped low, serious. Y/N waved a hand, attempting a small laugh. “I’m fine! Just… maybe too much excitement.” Jinwoo didn’t look convinced. “No more watching dramas,” he declared.

Mrs. Sung stood up without another word, disappeared into the hallway, and came back holding a pregnancy test kit like she had it prepped for emergencies. “Trust me, I’ve been through this before—and survived.” she said matter-of-factly, handing it over like a seasoned battlefield medic. Y/N stared. “Wait, I—” “Bathroom. Now.”

Jinwoo peeked in from the kitchen, his brow furrowed. “What’s going on?” Mrs. Sung pointed at him without looking. “You. Sit. Stay.” Jinwoo sat like an obedient son.

Y/N returned a few minutes later, staring down at the stick in her hand. Two pink lines. “Uh…” she managed.

Mrs. Sung leaned over, squinted, and then let out a squeal that shook the heavens. “Oh-ho-ho! My grandbaby!!” She spun toward Jinwoo. “You did good! You worked hard!” she praised.

Jinwoo blinked. “I… did?” Mrs. Sung grabbed his shoulders and shook him proudly. “My son! So diligent! So productive! I knew all that stamina would come in handy!” “M-Mom!” Y/N slapped her palm over her face.

But Jinwoo’s brain was already overheating from pure happiness. He swept Y/N right off the floor into his arms. “You’re pregnant! We’re having a baby!” “I’m—Jinwoo, dizzy, remember—” Too late. He spun her around like they just won a game show.

“Jinwoo!!” Y/N yelped, gripping his neck. “PUT ME DOWN!” “But I’m happy!!” “YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE ME THROW UP ON YOU!” Mrs. Sung cheered them on from the couch. “Spin her again! She’s glowing!” Y/N shot her a look of betrayal. “Mother!!” “Don’t worry! If you throw up, it means he’s blessed!”

Fenrir, who was watching from the doorway, simply huffed in dignified silence. Chaos, he thought. Humans.

Jinwoo finally stopped spinning, setting Y/N down gently but beaming from ear to ear. “I’m going to be a dad…” he whispered, kissing her forehead softly. Y/N, still a little green, poked his cheek. “You owe me tteokbokki and strawberry milk for this.” He nodded solemnly. “I’m on it.”

Meanwhile, In Jinwoo’s inner domain.

For a moment, there was complete silence.

And then chaos.

“KYEEEEEEEHHHH!” Beru screamed, launching into the air like an overgrown cicada on steroids. “THE QUEEN IS WITH CHILD! THE MONARCH’S HEIR APPROACHES! ALL HAIL!”

Bellion let out an actual chuckle—deep, rumbling, and shockingly gleeful for a seven-foot-tall armored nightmare. “Congratulations, Shall I prepare a regiment of guards for the nursery.”

Igris silently drew his sword and saluted. A glowing black rose appeared in his free hand. He held it aloft with reverence, as if offering tribute.

Tusk was already scribbling furiously on a stone tablet: “Enchantment Plan: Anti-Teleportation, Anti-Flying, Baby-Proofing Fortresses.”

Even Greed, normally stoic, pumped both fists in the air like he’d just won the lottery.

Beru landed dramatically. “The next monarch will be legendary! We must celebrate, my king! A feast! A blood offering!”

“NO BLOOD OFFERING!” They object in unison.

It was “supposed” to be a calm evening.

Y/N sat cross-legged on their bed, flipping through a baby name book, while Jinwoo lounged next to her, elbows propped up, scrolling through his phone with intense concentration. His expression was so serious, you’d think he was reading a classified guild report… but no. He was deep in a list of baby girl names.

“How about Hana?” Jinwoo said, tapping the screen and showing it to her. Y/N blinked. “Why are you searching girl names?” Jinwoo looked at her like she was the one being weird. “Because it’s going to be a girl.” Y/N choked on her water.

“Excuse me?” she said, wiping her mouth. Jinwoo shrugged, completely casual. “It’s a girl. I know it.” Y/N set her glass down very slowly. “No, it’s going to be a boy.” “Nope. Girl.” “Boy!” “Definitely a girl.” “Why are you so sure!?” Y/N huffed, smacking his arm with the book.

Jinwoo turned toward her with that unreadable face, but his ears were turning a little red. “Because,” he said seriously, “I want her to look like you. Energetic like you.” Y/N’s cheeks flushed immediately. “She’d be chaos,” Jinwoo added with a faint smile, “but she’ll light up this house like you do.”

Y/N gawked at him for a second, then smacked his shoulder again—but gentler this time. “Stop saying sweet things, you’re trying to distract me.” “It’s working,” Jinwoo replied smoothly.

She crossed her arms. “It’s a boy. I’m sure.” Jinwoo gave her a look. “How are you sure?” Y/N gulped. Because I read the manhwa and Suho is adorable! But she kept her mouth shut and glared right back. “Woman’s intuition.”

Jinwoo leaned closer, narrowing his eyes. “You’re wrong.” “Oh, I’m wrong?” “Yes. I made the baby,” Jinwoo said, raising an eyebrow. “I did all the effort.” Y/N blinked. “…And?” “The baby’s just paying rent in your womb,” he finished casually, as if it was scientific fact.

Y/N froze. “You WHAT!?” Jinwoo nodded solemnly. “Rent.” “You did NOT just say that—” “Full payment in kicks,” Jinwoo added. “See? Efficient tenant.”

Y/N threw the pillow at his face. Jinwoo caught it effortlessly, smirking as she lunged to tackle him. “You jerk! You dare say I’m just an innkeeper!?” “You’re a beautiful, glowing innkeeper,” Jinwoo teased, catching her wrists and pulling her down into his lap.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “You’re lucky I love you,” she muttered. Jinwoo kissed her temple. “And you’re lucky I’m a responsible landlord.” “Jinwoo!” “I’ll offer a discount on rent if you kiss me right now.”

Y/N groaned into his shoulder, but she was laughing as she did it.

Fenrir, watching from the corner like the dignified guardian he was, sighed heavily and turned his back on them. Idiots, he thought. They will raise a kingdom, and yet… they are idiots.

Few months have passed.

It all started at 4 AM. As it always does.

Y/N woke up to a weird cramp. She poked Jinwoo in the ribs. “Wake up. I think this is it.” Jinwoo shot out of bed like he was raiding an S-rank dungeon. “WHERE’S THE BAG?!” “You packed it a week ago,” Y/N deadpanned, clutching her belly. Fenrir was already waiting by the door, dignified as ever but his tail wagging. It’s time.

They made it to the hospital in record time, partly because Jinwoo threatened to teleport them directly into the delivery room.

The contractions got worse. Y/N’ mood got… intense.

Mrs. Sung held her hand on one side. “You’re doing great, dear!” Y/N sniffled. “Eomma… thank you for being here.” “You’re my daughter now,” Mrs. Sung said firmly, kissing her forehead. “And after this, we’ll make Jinwoo your servant for a month.” “Make it a year,” Y/N groaned. “Deal.”

Meanwhile, Jinwoo was on her other side, holding her other hand like it was his lifeline. “You’ve got this,” he said quietly, but he was pale as hell. Y/N cracked an eye open. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” Jinwoo lied. “You look like you’re gonna pass out.” “Nope.” His face twitched. “I’m cheering for you.” “You look like I’m your support character and you’re dying in battle.”

The next contraction hit, and Y/N screamed his name. “JINWOO YOU DID THIS TO ME!!!” Jinwoo’s eyes widened. “I… yes, but—” “YOU’RE DEAD!!!” She crushed his hand in a vice grip. Jinwoo swore he heard bones crack. But he smiled anyway. “You’re doing amazing, Y/N. You’re so strong.”

Finally—after what felt like an all-night raid boss battle with no healer, half their mana gone, and aggro pulling left and right—the baby’s first cries echoed through the room.

Y/N gasped, the sound hitting her like a critical strike to the heart. “It’s a boy!” the doctor announced with a grin, carefully placing the tiny, crying bundle onto Y/N’ chest.

For a moment, everything stopped. Y/N slumped back against the bed, exhausted tears slipping down her cheeks as she stared at their son in awe. Jinwoo froze beside her, his breath caught in his throat. “…A boy,” he repeated softly, like he couldn’t believe it. Like the word alone might shatter if he spoke too loudly.

Y/N gave him a tired but victorious grin. “Told you so.” Jinwoo let out a shaky laugh that broke halfway through, his shoulders trembling. His dark eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, were now brimming with tears as he leaned in close. He kissed her temple first, gently, then their son’s tiny, wrinkled hand. “You did so well,” Jinwoo whispered, his voice low and thick with emotion. Tears slid silently down his cheeks as he smiled at them both like they were his entire world. “I… couldn’t ask for more.”

And then it hit them. Both of them. Without a word, they started crying—quietly at first, tears of pure joy they didn’t try to hide. Y/N cradled Suho close to her chest, laughing between the tears as Jinwoo rested his forehead against hers. Outside the room, someone must have heard the baby’s first cry because, moments later, they heard muffled cheers, followed by sniffles and someone (probably Mrs. Sung) full-on sobbing.

Jinwoo finally pulled back, wiping his face with the back of his hand, but his smile stayed soft as he gazed down at his son. “He’s… beautiful,” he murmured. Y/N sniffled, brushing her fingers through the soft tuft of black hair on Suho’s head. “You think he’ll stay this cute, or will he start brooding and scaring people by the time he’s five?” Jinwoo chuckled. “If he takes after me… maybe four.” Y/N smirked, though her eyes were still glossy. “Better teach him how to smile early, then.”

Suho let out a tiny whimper, his little face scrunching in protest. Jinwoo’s expression softened even more—something Y/N hadn’t thought possible—as he carefully picked up his son, cradling him in his arms with the same reverence as if he were holding an ancient relic. “Shh,” he murmured, swaying slightly. “Time to sleep, little shadow.” And like magic—no, like Jinwoo—Suho settled almost immediately, his tiny fist curled against his father’s chest.

Y/N watched them both, utterly in love, and whispered, “He already trusts you… guess he knows who’s overpowered in this family.” Jinwoo chuckled quietly, keeping his gaze on their son as he replied, “No. That’s you.

Meanwhile, in Jinwoo’s Inner Domain.

The vast shadow plains trembled. A pulse of life, raw and ancient, rippled out.

Beru froze in mid-air, antennae twitching wildly. Then his insectoid mandibles split into a terrifying grin.

“KYEEEH! THE YOUNG MASTER HAS ARRIVED!” he shrieked.

Bellion dropped his sword point-first into the obsidian ground and roared. “IT IS TIME.”

What time? Nobody knew, but it sounded official.

Then it happened.

The elite Shadows who’d once been kings, warlords, and monsters… devolved into absolute chaos.

The High Orcs, normally stoic and terrifying, began chanting in deep, guttural voices as they formed a perfect circle.

“UGA! UGA! PRINCE! UGA!”

They stomped their feet rhythmically, shaking the obsidian ground. Then they started clapping in sync, forming a drum line with their fists pounding into their own thick chests.

One of them pulled out… maracas.

No one knew where he got them. No one asked.

Overhead, Kaisel, the fearsome dragon, landed with a bone-jarring THUD.

And then…

He tucked his tiny, bony arms under his ribs, flapped his massive skeletal wings like a chicken, and started bobbing his head in a full-on chicken dance.

Clap-clap! Flap-flap! Wiggle-wiggle!

Somehow, Kaisel managed to moonwalk backward while doing it.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?!” screamed a random mage-class shadow, openly sobbing with joy and confusion.

Bellion clutched his helmet, but the dignified knight was smiling. “The King’s heir is born. We rejoice.”

Beru launched himself off Bellion’s back like a missile, doing triple flips while screaming, “KYEEEHH! SHADOW PRINCE! KYEEEHHH!!”

The group of mage shadows joined hands in a ring, hopping  up and down, spinning in dizzy circles and flinging off fireworks spells like they were in a rave. One accidentally cast Meteor Shower—thankfully, it fizzled harmlessly.

Tusk screamed “UNCLE TUSK! TUSK CELEBRATE!” over and over again, scooping smaller shadows up and throwing them skyward like toddlers on a trampoline.

Greed flew by with another handmade banner trailing behind him. This one read:

“PRINCE SUHO: FIRST BLOOD, FIRST BITE, FIRST CRY—THE LEGACY BEGINS.”

Even Igris, ever the silent knight, was clapping politely… until Beru tackled him around the waist like a football striker scoring the winning goal.

They all ended up in a dogpile while Kaisel flapped over them in chicken dance formation.

Fenrir stood at the edges of the chaos, his golden eyes narrowing.

Buffoons. Every single one of them.

But his ears flicked once as if in approval.

And then he laid down beside Suho’s bassinet in the real world, resting his muzzle nearby. If anyone tried to approach the young heir, they’d be eating teeth.

He might let Kaisel squawk, but nobody messes with the pup.

The hospital room was finally quiet.

Y/N had drifted into an exhausted sleep not long after the delivery, her breathing soft and steady, a faint smile lingering on her lips even as she dozed. Jinwoo had tucked the blanket around her carefully, brushing a few strands of hair from her face. He kissed her forehead softly, lingering for a moment longer than necessary, before slipping out of the room.

He needed to see their son.

The nursery was dim, the soft glow of the lights casting a warm haze over the row of bassinets. Jinwoo’s steps were nearly silent, his hands slipping into his pockets like he always did when his mind was racing. But the moment his eyes landed on the tiny, wriggling bundle marked Sung Baby, he froze.

For a full minute, he didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just stared.

His feet carried him to the glass window on their own. He placed both hands against it, as if he could reach through the barrier, as if he could hold him again.

Suho was sleeping peacefully, his tiny fists balled up near his cheeks, his breaths soft and even. Occasionally, he made an adorable little noise that Jinwoo was sure sounded like a battle cry. That’s my son, he thought, pride swelling in his chest. Our son.

Jinwoo let out a shaky breath, smiling, even as tears gathered in his eyes. “You’re really here,” he murmured, voice soft. “We were fighting over your gender for months, you know.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve even though more tears slipped through. “Your mama was so sure you were a boy. She always wins, doesn’t she?” He shook his head fondly. “She’s cool like that.”

His fingers gently tapped the glass, like he was trying to get Suho’s attention even though he knew his son wouldn’t open those sleepy eyes just yet. “Hey… whatever you are, whoever you become…” Jinwoo whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ll always be here. For you. For your mama. I’ll protect you both.”

Another tiny noise came from Suho’s crib. Jinwoo laughed again, a quiet, breathless sound. “You agree with me, huh? Mama is pretty cool.”

He stood there a little longer, hands still pressed to the glass, watching his son sleep like it was the most important mission of his life. Because it was.

“Welcome to the world, Suho,” Jinwoo said softly. “I’ll make sure it’s a good one for you.”

They had barely returned from the hospital when it happened.

Y/N had just sat down on the couch, Jinwoo was fussing over adjusting her pillows (even though she swore she was fine), and baby Suho was snuggled in her arms—when Beru approached.

Very slowly.

Very seriously.

“May I… borrow the Young Master for a moment, my Queen?”

Y/N blinked, suspicious. “Uh… why?”

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes. “Beru.”

Beru gave a dramatic bow, wings spread wide, his giant claws respectfully close to his chest. “I have seen something most inspiring in the human world. A sacred rite… for the future ruler.”

Jinwoo sighed. “You’ve been watching TV again, haven’t you?”

But Y/N was already handing over Suho with a grin. “Oh, this I need to see.”

Beru carefully scooped the bundled baby into his long arms like he was holding a priceless treasure—which, in his mind, he totally was.

Without another word, Beru marched toward the nearest open balcony.

Y/N sat up straighter. “Wait, where’s he going?”

Jinwoo was already on his feet. “Beru, no!”

But it was too late.

“.....................”

The moment Beru reached the balcony, Kaisel soared out of nowhere, landing smoothly at his side, as if he’d been summoned. Bellion was already there, standing tall and proud like some royal bodyguard. And Fenrir… Fenrir stood regally beside them, tail swishing with dignified approval.

And then it happened.

Beru lifted baby Suho high into the air, his black wings flaring wide behind him. “BEHOLD! THE FUTURE HEIR!”

The shadow legion, gathered below in the training yard, immediately dropped to one knee in perfect unison, heads bowed. Some were actually crying. No, wait—that was the mage corps.

And then there was Tusk.

Oh, Tusk.

Tusk stepped forward, his staff slamming into the ground with a mighty thud. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began chanting in a deep, rumbling voice, his tone like the rise of an ancient storm:

“NNNAAAAAAHHHHHH… SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVEENNYYYYYAAAAAA… BABA GEE TIBABAAAAA…”

His voice echoed, mana crackling faintly in the air as if the heavens themselves were watching.

Jinwoo was frozen at the door, jaw slack. “What… what is happening.”

Y/N was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe.

Beru turned slowly, as if hearing them, his voice full of reverence. “I have watched the Sacred Tale, my King and Queen. It is the Circle of Life. I'm so honored.”

Jinwoo ran a hand down his face.

Beru ignored him, still holding Suho high as the entire Shadow Legion started chanting something in perfect unison that sounded suspiciously like “Nants ingonyama bagithi baba!”

Y/N wheezed.

Jinwoo muttered, “I should’ve limited his screen time.”

Y/N wiped her tears of laughter, leaning into her husband. “Oh no, I love this. Our son’s first official introduction? Perfection.”

Jinwoo sighed, then smiled helplessly as he watched his legion honor their tiny prince with the most dramatic moment in existence.

Suho, for his part, let out a tiny yawn and sneezed.

The entire Shadow Legion gasped in unison and immediately bowed lower.

Beru clutched Suho to his chest. “Blessed be the Young Master! His power is mighty already!”

Y/N giggled. “You know what? We need to record this.”

A few weeks after Suho was born, it became undeniable. He was a miniature Jinwoo. Jet-black hair that already flopped messily over his forehead, serious little brows furrowed even while he slept, and a natural “resting monarch face” that made the everyone coo but also salute him instinctively.

“He looks like you copy-pasted your face onto a baby,” Y/N mumbled one morning, her cheek pressed against Jinwoo’s shoulder as they stared at Suho napping in his crib. Jinwoo smirked proudly, one arm wrapped around her waist. “Good genes.” Y/N reached up and playfully tugged his ear. “Yeah, well. The biting worked.”

Jinwoo groaned, covering his face with his hand. “Don’t bring that up again. You bit me every day during the pregnancy.” “And look how perfect he turned out,” Y/N said smugly, poking Suho’s chubby cheek gently with her finger. “That’s the price of a masterpiece.”

Mrs. Sung was over the moon. She visited almost every day, bringing home-cooked meals and cooing over Suho as if he was made of pure gold. “Jinwoo-ah, you finally did something right,” she sniffled one day as she held Suho, her eyes gleaming. “This child is perfect. My grandson will rule the playground and the world.” “Mom,” Jinwoo sighed. “Don’t ‘Mom’ me! If you breathe wrongly around Y/N, I’ll slap you.” Y/N, sipping her tea beside her, gave Jinwoo a sweet, smug smile. “You heard your mom.”

Mrs. Sung beamed and patted Y/N's head like a precious child.

Jinwoo? He stood off to the side. Quiet. Slightly confused why his mom gave his wife the nickname “Daughter” and him the 'side-eye in-law' look.

Jinah became the coolest aunt in existence. She had already bought Suho tiny sneakers that lit up and attempted to teach him fist bumps—despite him being only two months old. “Bro, this kid’s going to be an athlete and a genius,” she bragged, holding up Suho. “Put him down,” Jinwoo deadpanned. “Not until he does the fist bump.”

Even Jinho—Uncle Jinho, Y/N’s walking wallet, as Y/N declared—got involved, spoiling Suho with plushies and random baby gadgets. “This kid’s got VIP insurance and a gold spoon in his mouth,” Jinho said proudly. “I’m calling it: future president.” “He’s not even sitting up yet,” Jinwoo replied, but he was smiling anyway.

After the fiasco with Fenrir howling mysteriously during the pregnancy, Jinwoo wasn’t taking chances. Tusk worked overtime carving anti-teleportation and anti-flying runes into the house. Every corner had subtle, glowing glyphs. “We’re locked down tighter than a national treasure vault,” Jinwoo said, hands on his hips. Y/N patted his back. “Good job. But if he shadow-exchanges into the fridge again, we’re going to have a problem.” “...That was one time.”

By six months, Suho could hover. By eight months, he could shadow exchange… randomly. One moment he was in his crib, the next he was sitting on top of Fenrir’s head, giggling as if it was the funniest thing in the world. Fenrir, ever dignified, simply sighed in his deep, ancient way and carried the baby like an heir on a throne. “Such power in one so small,” Fenrir mused. “The realms will tremble.”

They learned to keep an eye on Suho constantly. Y/N, however, wasn’t surprised at all. “I told you,” she said one night, as they both watched Suho playing with Igris’ helmet like a toy. “He’s destined to be overpowered.” Jinwoo just sighed, hugging her from behind. “At least he’s cute.” Y/N leaned back into his chest. “That’s the biting.” “Please stop saying that.”

One sunny afternoon, while Suho was peacefully gnawing on Beru’s antenna (Beru, ever the loyal subject, simply buzzed with pride), Y/N found herself on the couch, cuddled up next to Jinwoo. Jinwoo was flipping through reports on his tablet, while Y/N scrolled through old photos on her phone.

Out of nowhere, Y/N started giggling.

Jinwoo glanced at her. “What’s funny?” Y/N turned to him, eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’m just thinking about our love story.” Jinwoo raised an eyebrow, putting his tablet down. “What about it?” She sat up, cracked her knuckles dramatically, and with a grin, declared, “It all started with sniffing… and ended with biting.” Jinwoo sighed. “Not this again.” “Oh yes,” Y/N said, poking his cheek. “And now? That sniffing and biting combo gave us Suho.”

Suho giggled in response, still hanging off Beru’s antenna like it was a jungle gym.

Y/N clapped her hands once. “Okay! Listen up, baby. Mama’s gonna tell you the story of how you came to be.” Jinwoo groaned. “He’s six months old. He doesn’t need to hear this.”

Y/N winked at Suho, who floated a little higher in excitement. “Too late. He deserves to know the truth.”

And maybe one day, Suho would understand the chaos, the love, and the wild adventures that brought them here.

But for now, the Shadow Monarch, his Queen, and their flying baby prince had everything they could ever need.

“The End… for now.”

<< Chapter 17

Tag requests: @kisssleeping; @catsf0rlife707; @aorifukuzawa; @joannthebish; @ojog404; @tanspostsblog; @snowy-violet; @o-qi-shisme; @sleepyamaya; @harrystylesfan2686; @night-shadowblood-writes2; @weaponxgames; @bubera974; @moonlightsof; @limerenceisserenity; @mashiromochi; @its-carlerrr; @kuramiachan; @purplehazzes; @leviackerman2030; @estrnrea;

Dear Y/Ns,

First of all—thank you! No, seriously… a HUGE thank you for riding along on this absolutely chaotic fanfic! From the very first moment Y/N sniffed Jinwoo to the legendary biting that somehow led to Baby Suho (who’s already flying around and dodging anti-teleportation runes like a tiny pro.) And I’m so, so happy you joined me to this madness lol.

I hope this story made you laugh, cry, and maybe shout, "WHY IS KAISER MOONWALKING?!" At least once. (Don’t worry,,, I’m still asking myself the same thing! Sigh…)

And guess what? I’m already cooking up some side stories—whether it’s Jinwoo’s Prime Hitting In (Yas… it’s steamy🔥) or another chaotic one-shot adventure with action, fluff, and who knows what else! If my imagination runs wild again, well… no one is safe...

Thank you again for all your support, comments, and good vibes! Y/N and Jinwoo’s story might be wrapping up for now, but who knows what’s next? If you have fun ideas or moments you’d love to see, feel free to share them—I’d love to hear from you!

— SulkingHeichou12

[baelabong]

ʟᴜɴᴄʜ (ɢ!ᴘ ᴋᴀʀɪɴᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

rq: yessir

Pairing: sub!g!p rina x dom!fem reader

Plot: Rina doesnt get nervous but why does her best friend make her sweat so hard

Wc; 2391 words

The bell rang to signal lunch, and Karina hurriedly gathered her things, spotting you waiting at the front of her classroom with a grin on your face. As classmates called out their goodbyes to Karina, she radiated confidence, making her way over to you.

Before Karina could leave, a girl approached her, asking, “Hey, do you want to eat lunch with me today?”

Karina hesitated, about to respond, “Oh, the thing is—”

“Karina!” you called out, waving her over. “The lunch I packed you won’t eat itself!” Your playful smirk was aimed directly at the girl talking to Karina, clearly marking your territory.

With an apologetic smile, Karina excused herself and walked over to you. You greeted her with a playful nudge and an arm draped casually over her shoulders, holding the lunch pack in your other hand.

Karina's cheeks flushed a light pink, and she looked away shyly, making you frown slightly but deciding not to push her.

Lunch passed in a comfortable rhythm, the two of you sharing the meal you had prepared. As you reached the final bite, Karina offered it to you, “You should take the last bite.”

You shook your head with a teasing smile, “Absolutely not,” while gently shoving the last spoonful into her mouth.

Throughout your friendship, you had always taken the lead, steering the two of you through decisions big and small. Whether it was deciding on plans or steering her away from unwanted advances, you were always there, guiding her.

After lunch, you both headed to the restroom to freshen up, reapplying lip gloss and fixing your hair. As you finished, you caught Karina staring at your lips, her gaze lingering longer than usual.

You leaned in closer, your face just inches from Karina’s, watching as she took an involuntary step back. Her eyes widened in surprise, and her usually confident demeanor crumbled. Despite being a whole foot taller than you, she seemed smaller in that moment, her composure slipping through her fingers like sand.

“Something wrong, Rina?” you asked, your voice soft, almost a whisper, yet laced with a playful edge. The way you were looking at her—your eyes locked onto hers, unwavering—made her heart race. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out, just a shallow breath that did nothing to steady her nerves.

Her gaze darted downward, unable to hold yours any longer. But as her eyes dropped, they landed directly on your cleavage, partially exposed by the low neckline of your shirt. Karina’s face flushed a deep red, her embarrassment turning into something else—something more intense, more primal.

“Oh?” you said, your voice dropping lower, a teasing lilt curling at the edges of your words. “Did I just catch you staring at what I thought you were?”

Karina’s breath hitched, her mind racing as she struggled to pull herself together. Her heart pounded in her chest, the sound almost deafening in the otherwise silent bathroom. She tried to say something, anything, but the words got tangled on her tongue, coming out as nothing more than a soft stammer.

“I—I wasn’t—” she started, but her voice faltered, the denial weak even to her own ears.

You took another step closer, closing the gap between you. Your body was so close to hers now that she could feel the heat radiating from you, your presence overwhelming her senses. Her back pressed against the cool tile wall, and she realized she had nowhere else to go.

“You weren’t what?” you pressed, your tone gentle yet insistent, pushing her to admit what you both knew. The proximity, the way your eyes bore into hers—it was intoxicating, and Karina could feel her resolve slipping away.

Her lips parted, but before she could speak, you lifted a finger and placed it gently against her lips. The touch was soft, almost tender, yet it silenced her completely, the words dying in her throat.

“Shh,” you whispered, your eyes never leaving hers. The moment stretched out between you, thick with tension, every second feeling like an eternity. Karina could hardly breathe, her body reacting to the closeness, the intimacy of the situation.

Your finger lingered against her lips, a silent command that she couldn’t disobey. Her eyes were locked on yours, unable to look away, the intensity of your gaze holding her captive. Her heart raced faster, and she could feel a flush spreading across her cheeks, down her neck, and to places she couldn’t control.

You smiled, a small, knowing curve of your lips, as if you could read every thought running through her mind. The bathroom seemed to shrink around you both, the air charged with an electric tension that made every breath feel heavy, loaded with anticipation.

“Let me take care of you,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips like a promise, a secret shared just between the two of you.

Karina’s eyes widened, but she nodded, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. You took her hand, leading her to a nearby janitor's closet, closing and locking the door behind you.

You guided Karina into the small, dimly lit janitor’s closet, the faint scent of cleaning supplies hanging in the air. The door clicked shut behind you, the sound echoing in the quiet space. Karina stood there, her breath coming in short, nervous bursts, her eyes wide as she watched you move.

“Pull down your pants, baby,” you commanded softly, your voice carrying an edge of authority that made Karina’s heart skip a beat. There was affection in your tone, but it was clear that you were in control.

Karina’s hands trembled slightly as she reached for the waistband of her pants, her fingers fumbling with the button. She hesitated for a split second, a flash of uncertainty crossing her face, but your steady gaze gave her the reassurance she needed. With a deep breath, she undid the button and pulled her pants down, letting them fall to her ankles.

You stepped closer, your hand gently brushing against her thigh as you knelt in front of her. The contact sent a shiver down Karina’s spine, her body reacting to your touch with a mixture of anticipation and fear. She watched as you looked up at her, your eyes dark with intent.

“Good girl,” you murmured, the words sending a flush of warmth through Karina’s body. Her hands gripped the edges of the shelf behind her, holding on for support as you leaned in closer.

The moment your mouth made contact, Karina’s body tensed, a sharp gasp escaping her lips before she bit down on them to keep from making too much noise. The sensation was overwhelming, your tongue skillfully working its way around her most sensitive parts.

Karina’s breath hitched, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to keep herself composed. Every touch, every movement from you sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, her legs trembling with the effort to stay upright.

You took your time, savoring each reaction, each twitch of her body as you teased her, bringing her close to the edge before pulling back just enough to keep her hanging on. The frustration was evident in her soft whimpers, the way her hips subtly moved toward you, seeking more of the pleasure you were so expertly denying her.

“P-please…” Karina finally managed to whisper, her voice trembling with need. Her hands tightened their grip on the shelf, her knuckles turning white. “Please, I need…”

“What do you need, Rina?” you asked, your voice a low, seductive purr that sent another shiver down her spine. You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at her, watching the way her face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

“I… I need you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, but the vulnerability in her words was clear. Her eyes met yours, pleading silently for you to end the sweet torment you were putting her through.

A smile played at the corners of your lips, a mixture of pride and satisfaction at how you had her completely under your control. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that,” you teased, your breath warm against her skin.

Karina’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but the need was too strong to ignore. “I need you to… to make me come,” she finally confessed, her voice shaking with the effort it took to say the words out loud.

Your smile widened at her admission, and you leaned back in, your mouth once again working her over with deliberate, calculated movements. Karina’s body responded immediately, her back arching slightly as the pleasure built up inside her, hotter and more intense with each passing second.

But just as she was about to tip over the edge, you pulled back again, leaving her on the brink of release. Karina let out a frustrated whine, her hips bucking slightly toward you, desperate for the release you were denying her.

“Not yet,” you murmured, your voice soft but firm. You placed a gentle hand on her thigh, holding her in place. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

Karina’s breath came in shallow gasps, her body trembling with the effort to hold back. She looked down at you, her eyes wide and pleading, her voice breaking as she whispered, “Please, please let me come. I can’t take it anymore…”

The desperation in her voice was enough to satisfy you, and you resumed your movements, this time with a relentless pace that left Karina with no chance of holding back. Her hands gripped the shelf tighter, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts as the pleasure built up to an unbearable level.

And then, with a final, expert flick of your tongue, you pushed her over the edge. Karina’s body tensed, her back arching as a wave of pleasure crashed over her, her moans barely contained as she rode out her climax. Her legs shook, barely able to hold her up as she came down from the high, her body spent and trembling.

You pulled back, watching with satisfaction as she struggled to catch her breath, her face flushed and her eyes half-lidded with the afterglow of pleasure.

“Good,” you whispered again, your voice soft and full of praise as you gently kissed the inside of her thigh, letting her bask in the warmth of your affection.

But you weren’t done yet. You took Karina’s hand, guiding her to a spare chair in the room. With a fluid motion, you straddled her lap, your bodies aligning perfectly. You could feel her length, still hard and eager beneath you, pressing against you through the fabric.

You leaned in close, your breath warm against her ear. “Put your hands here,” you whispered, placing her trembling hands on your waist. Karina’s touch was hesitant, her fingers curling slightly as she tried to find her footing in the overwhelming situation.

As you began to grind against her, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through both of you, Karina’s breath hitched. The sensation was intense, the heat between your bodies growing with each subtle movement. You didn’t bother removing your panties, just slid them to the side, guiding her into you. The feeling of her entering you, the way she filled you, made you gasp softly, your body instinctively pressing closer to hers.

Her girthy length stretched you out so good, making you let out a guttural moan while you clenched on her veiny cock. Moaning with you, she threw her head back with a hiss, not knowing what to do. The tip of her mushroom hesd kissed your insides so perfectly you bounced up and down on her.

Her thighs going red from the weight you were putting on her as you left scratches tgat left red marks on her shouldersbecause of how good she was making you feel. You koved as if she was your own toy that you could use.

“You like me using you like this?” You said in between ragged moans. “You like just sitting down while I use your cock to pound on my pussy?”

Just whining in response, you grab her hand and place it on the your tummy where a clear bulge comes and goes as you move up and down. At this feeling alone, Karina felt ecstatic that filled you up this good, resulting in her shooting just a few small ropes of cum but her cock still rock hard.

Karina’s hands hovered uncertainly, unsure of where to go, what to do, but you quickly took control, moving her hands to guide your hips. “Move me like this,” you instructed softly, your voice a mixture of command and gentle encouragement.

Karina’s grip tightened on your waist as she followed your lead, her movements becoming more confident as the pleasure built between you. The rhythm you set was slow at first, each thrust deep and deliberate, but soon the pace quickened, the urgency between you growing.

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” you murmured, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. The closeness, the intimate contact, made your voice seem like it was coming from inside her mind, wrapping around her thoughts and desires.

Karina’s voice was shaky, breathless as she tried to find the words. “So good… you’re making me feel so good,” she managed, her voice trembling with the effort it took to speak. Her hands held onto you tightly, grounding herself as the sensation threatened to overwhelm her.

You could feel her head starting to fall, her body surrendering to the intense pleasure, but you weren’t going to let her escape that easily. You grabbed her face gently but firmly, tilting her chin up so her eyes met yours.

“Look at me when I fuck you,” you ordered, your voice low and commanding, but still laced with the tenderness you always showed her.

Karina’s eyes locked onto yours, her gaze filled with a mixture of vulnerability and desire. The connection between you deepened, the intensity of the moment heightened by the shared intimacy. Each thrust, each movement, was a silent conversation between your bodies, expressing everything words couldn’t capture.

As you rode her, your own pleasure building to a peak, you leaned in closer, your forehead resting against hers. The intimacy of the gesture, the closeness, made the experience even more intense. You could feel her trembling beneath you, her breath mingling with yours as you both moved closer to the edge.

“Don’t look away,” you whispered, your voice gentle now, almost a plea. You wanted her to be fully present with you, to share every second of this moment.

Karina nodded slightly, her eyes still locked on yours, even as the pleasure threatened to pull her under. She could feel herself getting closer, the pressure building inside her until it was almost unbearable.

When you finally reached your peak, the release was almost simultaneous, a shared explosion of pleasure that left both of you breathless, clinging to each other as the waves of sensation washed over you. You stayed like that for a moment, your bodies still connected, your breaths mingling as you slowly came down from the high.

“Good girl,” you whispered, smiling down at her as she caught her breath. The two of you stayed there, wrapped in each other, letting the world outside fade away

[andy-15-07]

Hi 🤗👋🏻, would you write a smut one about pedro x reader? Like they're babysitting a kid's friend, Pedro gets turned on by the reader who's trying to convince the kid to eat its food (or whatever you like). But every time things get spicy someone, even the kid or something interrupts them.

The Taste of Love

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 1636| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The aroma of burnt toast hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the sweet stickiness coating the kitchen table. Five-year-old Leo, a whirlwind of boundless energy, was currently engaged in a battle of wills with a plate of spaghetti. His dark curls bounced as he shook his head emphatically, a tiny frown creasing his brow.

"No quiero," he declared, pushing the plate away with a decisive little hand.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Leo, we've talked about this. You need to eat something. You've been playing all morning."

Pedro, sprawled on the living room sofa, chuckled. "Sounds familiar," he called out, his voice laced with amusement.

You shot him a playful glare. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one dealing with a carb-resistant five-year-old."

He grinned, pushing himself up from the sofa. "Let me try my charm." He sauntered into the kitchen, his eyes twinkling. "Hey, Leo. You know, spaghetti gives you super strength. Like Superman!"

Leo eyed him skeptically. "Superman eats tacos," he countered.

Pedro’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. "Ah, good point. But, uh… this spaghetti… it’s magic spaghetti. It makes you run faster than a cheetah!"

Leo considered this, then shook his head again. "I want chicken nuggets."

You bit back a laugh. This was going nowhere. "Okay, new tactic," you announced, grabbing a spoon. "Leo, how about we play airplane? The spoon is the airplane, and the spaghetti is… fuel!" You made airplane noises, swooping the spoon towards Leo's mouth.

He giggled, but still refused to open his mouth.

"Come on, open wide! Choo choo!" You zoomed the spoon around his head, making exaggerated engine sounds.

Pedro leaned against the counter, watching you with an appreciative glint in his eyes. "You know," he murmured, his voice low and husky, "you're really good at this."

"Thanks," you replied, your eyes still on Leo. "It's all about persistence." You wiggled the spoon in front of Leo's nose. "Last stop, the yummy tummy station!"

Leo giggled again, finally opening his mouth. A small portion of spaghetti disappeared.

"Yes!" you cheered. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Pedro chuckled. "You're amazing," he whispered, his eyes lingering on your face. He reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your cheek. His touch sent a shiver down your spine.

"Gracias," you murmured, your cheeks flushing slightly. "Just trying to avoid a meltdown."

"Meltdowns are inevitable with five-year-olds," Pedro said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "But I have a feeling you can handle anything."

"I'm pretty resourceful," you replied, meeting his gaze. The air between you crackled with unspoken energy.

Suddenly, Leo piped up, "More airplane!"

You and Pedro exchanged a look, a mixture of amusement and frustration. "Right," you said, turning back to Leo. "More airplane it is."

The spaghetti saga continued, with you employing a variety of creative tactics, each accompanied by sound effects and silly voices. Pedro watched, a constant smile playing on his lips. He occasionally offered encouragement, his voice a low rumble that resonated through you.

As Leo finally finished the last bite, he declared, "I'm full!" and promptly slid off his chair, running back into the living room.

You and Pedro exchanged a sigh of relief. "Mission accomplished," you said, smiling.

"You're a miracle worker," Pedro said, stepping closer. He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you gently towards him. "You know," he murmured, his voice laced with a playful huskiness, "watching you… it was very… stimulating."

"Oh really?" you teased, raising an eyebrow. "And what exactly did you find so stimulating?"

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "Your… dedication. Your… creativity. Your… everything." He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. "You're incredible, (Y/N)."

"Pedro," you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

Just as his lips were about to capture yours, Leo came tearing back into the kitchen. "Pedro, can you build me a tower with the blocks?"

Pedro groaned inwardly. "Of course, Leo," he said, forcing a smile. He turned back to you, his eyes filled with longing. "Later," he whispered, brushing a kiss against your forehead.

The rest of the afternoon followed a similar pattern. Moments of intense connection between you and Pedro, punctuated by Leo's constant demands for attention. Every time things started to heat up, Leo would inevitably interrupt, needing a drink, a toy, or assistance with some imaginary crisis.

As the sun began to set, Leo’s parents arrived to pick him up. After a flurry of goodbyes and thank yous, you and Pedro were finally alone.

He turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Where were we?" he murmured, reaching for you.

You smiled, anticipation bubbling within you. "I believe," you whispered, "we were about to… explore the stimulating effects of spaghetti wrangling."

He chuckled, pulling you close. "Indeed we were." His lips met yours in a passionate kiss, a kiss that spoke of pent-up desire and long-awaited intimacy. His hands roamed your body, sending shivers of delight through you.

"Mmm," he murmured against your lips. "You smell delicious."

"And you," you whispered back, "smell like… slightly burnt toast."

He laughed, pulling you closer. "Worth it," he whispered, his lips finding yours again. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding. His hands moved beneath your shirt, his touch sending sparks through you.

"Pedro," you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

"Sí, mi amor?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

"Let's go to the bedroom," you whispered, taking his hand.

He grinned, his eyes burning with passion. "Finalmente," he said, following you eagerly. As you reached the bedroom door, you paused, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"You know," you said, "I have a feeling we're going to have a very… stimulating… evening."

He chuckled, pulling you into his arms. "I have a feeling you're right," he whispered, his lips capturing yours in another passionate kiss.

Pedro guided you to the bed, his hands sliding under your shirt, lifting it over your head. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You gasped softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as he explored the sensitive skin along your collarbone.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he admired you. "Hermosa," he whispered, his voice reverent. His hands moved to your waist, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs with deliberate slowness, his fingers grazing your skin, igniting a fire within you.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing the toned muscles beneath. Your hands roamed his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. Pedro groaned softly, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was both tender and urgent.

He gently laid you back on the bed, his body pressing against yours, the heat between you growing unbearable. His hands explored every inch of your body, leaving no part untouched, his touch both soothing and electrifying.

"Pedro," you moaned, your body arching towards him, craving more.

He responded with a deep, throaty groan, his lips trailing down your body, leaving a path of fire in their wake. When he finally reached the waistband of your panties, he paused, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"May I?" he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He slid your panties down your legs, his fingers brushing against your skin, sending shivers through you. His lips followed the path of his hands, kissing and nipping at your thighs, teasing you until you were trembling beneath him.

When he finally pressed his lips to your most sensitive spot, you cried out, your hands fisting in the sheets as waves of pleasure washed over you. Pedro’s tongue moved with expert precision, drawing you closer and closer to the edge until you finally tumbled over, your body convulsing with release.

Pedro didn’t give you a chance to recover. He moved up your body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he positioned himself between your thighs. You felt him, hard and ready, pressing against you, and you moaned softly, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Are you ready, mi amor?" he whispered, his voice a mix of love and desire.

"Yes," you breathed, your heart pounding in your chest.

He entered you slowly, his movements deliberate and tender, giving you time to adjust. The sensation of him inside you was overwhelming, a perfect combination of pleasure and intimacy that took your breath away.

Pedro moved with a steady rhythm, his body pressing against yours, his lips never leaving your skin. You matched his pace, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge.

"Pedro," you moaned, your nails digging into his back as the pleasure built within you, threatening to consume you.

"I’m right here, mi amor," he whispered, his voice strained with desire. "Let go for me."

With a final thrust, you tumbled over the edge, your body convulsing with release. Pedro followed moments later, his own release washing over him as he buried his face in your neck, his body trembling against yours.

You lay there, tangled together, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as the aftershocks of pleasure coursed through you. Pedro gently brushed the hair from your face, his eyes filled with love and adoration.

"Te amo," he whispered, his voice soft and sincere.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with emotion.

As you lay in his arms, you knew that no matter what life threw your way, you would always have this—this connection, this love, this passion. And that was all you needed.

[dark-l-angel]

Ever thought about Jason x biker!girl reader?

~4am Icecream edition~

It starts with a whisper over comms.. because of course you two have matching comms like the chaotic couple you are.

~ 4:08 AM ~

The city’s asleep, but your mouth isn't. You murmur into your comm, half teasing, half needy:

"Jay... I need ice cream." Your voice is sleepy, sultry, and a little bratty. Like you're pouting while curled up in bed but absolutely capable of starting a riot if he doesn’t indulge you.

A pause. A heavy, loaded pause. Then his voice.. thick with sleep and something darker... comes back low and rough:

"Ride out with me. Now... meet me at the corner of 7th and D, five minutes.”

You’re already on your feet, slipping into your tightest leather, no bra, no patience, just pure mischief. You straddle poppy *your gorgeous, throaty bike ✨* and let her purr as you fly through Gotham’s wet, shivering streets, hair whipping behind you like a siren made of fire and steel.

He’s waiting for you under a flickering streetlamp. And oh, fuck.

Jason FUCKIN Todd.

Parked with one long leg on the pavement, leaning against his bike like sin made flesh. Black jeans slung low on his hips, He’s wearing a grey shirt this time, tight enough to show the way his chest strains against the fabric, and that chest *oh God*. that chest looks like it could crush you in the most delicious way, the sleeves hugging his biceps like they were stitched just to bless your eyes. Those damn clothes were hugging that god-tier body like it was made to suffer. His helmet’s still on, but you can feel his eyes undressing you through the visor. Omfg I can't.

He lifts his helmet just enough to smirk at you. That stupid, cocky, devastatingly charming smirk.

He look like he walked off of some greek museum. My knees are jelly at this point 🫠

"You're late..." he says, pulling it off, and the mess of his hair falls out like sin incarnate. His voice was Low, smoky and teasing.

"I'm a princess.. I have to take my time, but came as i fast as i can.. couldn’t let you roam Gotham alone in those damn jeans.." you shoot back.

"You're hard to rush when you're dripping."

You lick your bottom lip slowly. "You talking about my bike or me?"

He doesn’t answer. He just smirks, pushes off his bike with a grace that should be illegal, and walks toward you like a storm.

You ride side-by-side, tearing through the city like hellfire and sex on wheels. Every red light he revs his engine, flexing his thigh just to taunt you. He knows exactly what he's doing.. and you let him. You both like the game.

You end up at some grungy little spot that’s open all night. He parks first this time, leans back on his bike, and watches you slide off yours with those slow, calculated hips. That shirt of yours rides up just enough to show the curve of your waist.

He stares. Doesn’t hide it.

"You gonna order ice cream baby girl? Or keep giving the whole damn city a show?"

Inside, you didn't take a whole 30min choosing over different flavors while he waited patiently for the final results as expected his bb girl had to try them all..

So you choose multiple flavors slow and sultry. He pays without looking at the register, eyes locked on your lips as you taste the first bite.

Your knees touch while sitting on the slightly wet sidewalk outside. you share spoonfuls. He watches your lips with something dark and warm in his eyes.

You offer him the 6th flavor on the spoon, and he takes it.. but not from the spoon. No, he leans in and kisses it straight from your mouth. Languid. Dirty and deep.

"Mmm..." he whispers against your lips, licking his own. "Tastes like trouble." Your giggles broke into the night's silence.

You decided to finish your cone first and kept the rest of the flavors for your own enjoyment at the comfort of your bed, when you got to your bike again, he grabs your waist and pins you against it with those big, scarred hands.. not forceful, but possessive. His fingers curl into the leather like he’s about to tear it off. You’re still eating ice cream, but now it's melting faster than you can keep up.

"Let’s make a new rule..." he growls in your ear, voice ragged. "...every time you wake me up at 4AM, I get to eat something sweet too."

And he’s not looking at the cone.

His long lashes fell on his cheeks looking down.

Right there 👀

"You're dripping again, angel" he murmurs against your neck as he kissed the soft skin.

Something about the way his shirt clings to his body, the scent of bike oil and midnight, the fire in his eyes, the feeling of his heart beating... "Hope you weren’t just talkin’ about the ice cream bae."

Yeah, ice cream was only half the craving.

[nwjnsloona]

countryside romance

kim minji x fem reader

synopsis: you go to your grandma’s house with your childhood best friend. maybe you’ll fall in love!

word count: 3.1k

tags: countryside au, fluff

“hey minji,” you said, “i’m going to see my grandma on the weekend, do you want to come?”

“sure!”

you loaded your suitcase next to minji’s in the back of her car, and slammed the trunk shut.

“do you think that’s everything?” minji called from the driver’s seat. 

“i hope so!” you yelled back

“get in!”

you moved to the front of the car and opened the passenger door. “let’s go!”

the car started moving and you sat in silence for a few seconds before you connected your phone to the car, asking minji, “what do you want to listen to?”

“uh… loop!”

“the ep or the song?”

“the ep, i guess?”

you pressed play and the beat of diorama sounded through the car immediately, and both of you smiled.

[“TAKE A DEEP BREATH!” you both shouted. 

“CAUSE CAN’T NOBODY PARTY LIKE ME THE TIME WILL FLY!”

you looked at each other, grinning and breathless. minji turned back to focus on the road, but she could still feel your eyes on her.]

“we’re here!” you yelled. “park right in front of the door.”

“finally.” minji sighed.

you got out of the car and hurried to minji’s side, opening her car door before she could.

“after you, ma’am.” you said, bowing to her.

“well thank you,” minji giggled, exiting the car. “such a gentlewoman.” she paused as you closed the door and moved to open the trunk. “but shouldn’t i have opened yours? you’re my passenger princess after all.”

“well,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. you didn’t finish your sentence.

minji unloaded your bag first before lifting her own out of the trunk and setting it on the ground. you both walked around the car with your suitcases in tow to the front of the rusty corrugated metal gate, which opened with a gentle shove.

“halmeoni! we’re here!” you shouted, avoiding the long grass growing between the worn stone steps. turning back, you could see minji doing the same.

“it really smells like the countryside here.” she commented. you inhaled deeply. she was right; it smelled like rice fields, smoke, and home.

the door opened as you climbed the steps and your grandmother’s face greeted you.

“aigoo, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it? come in quickly before the mosquitoes arrive!”

you both said your greetings hastily as she ushered you in to the living room where a meal had been prepared for you.

“sit, sit,” she said as you reached the low wooden table. you both complied, mouths watering at the sight of the food. 

your grandma picked up her chopsticks, and immediately you did too. minji reached for the seasoned spinach first, her eyebrows immediately furrowing in pleasure.

“halmeoni! this is so good!” she exclaimed. “yn, you have to try some!”

she carefully placed some spinach on her spoonful of rice and turned to you. 

“here!”

you turned to look at her and she pushed the spoon in front of your mouth. and gosh, she looked so cute, looking at you expectantly with her round eyes. you ate it, but you could barely taste anything— the pounding of your heart drowned out all your other senses.

“isn’t it so good?”

“y-yeah!” you exclaimed.

you carried on with your meal, averting minji’s eyes that kept trying to make contact with yours. you were convinced that if you looked at her eyes, she would know about your crush. biting your lip, you picked up your chopsticks and reached for the perilla leaves. unfortunately, you found that the two top leaves were stuck together, and you tried to separate them but to no avail, until minji separated them for you.

she smiled at you, and you laughed, but your chest felt heavy.

“you know people get mad when their partner does that for other people?”

“i know.”

you looked slightly confused but ate your perilla leaf all the same.

“minjiiiiii,” you whined, “let’s go!” 

“you need to stay protected from the sun!” she said, applying a generous amount of sunscreen to your face. “do you want to get skin cancer?”

“fine.” you rolled your eyes, and started putting sunscreen on your exposed arms and legs. after you had finished, you took her hand in yours and with the other pushed the door open, telling your grandma you’d “be back soon!”

the stream in front of your grandma’s house was small, but to you it was still the wide river it had been when you were a child— you had come here often, most of the time with minji.

minji walked down the slope of the riverbank before reaching her hand up for you to grab.

“be careful, it’s dangerous.”

“like you didnt walk down there yourself!” you exclaimed, taking her hand nonetheless and walking downwards towards the stream, “and we used to do this as kids as well!”

“better safe than sorry!” she shrugged, sitting down at the edge of the water. she patted the ground next to her, indicating for you to dit next to her.

you sat, dipping your toes into the water.

“hey, do you remember when we used to try and catch insects and stuff here?”

[“catch it, catch it!” you cried, flapping your arms in excitement as minji ran around chasing a dragonfly.

“it’s too fast!” she yelled back. the dragonfly flew away into the distance and you sighed in disappointment.

“do you want to try?” she offered the net to you and you took it, fire in your eyes. you were going to catch a dragonfly.

“do you see any?” you asked minji, readying yourself.

“no, i don’t think s- oh! oh! there’s one there!” she pointed at the sky, and sure enough, there was a dragonfly hovering in the air.

you ran as quick as your legs could— you had to catch that dragonfly for minji. the net swooped…

…but the dragonfly flew away after barely grazing it.

your brows furrowed in disappointment. you wanted to make minji happy by catching a dragonfly, but you let her down. you were a-

minji cut off your train of thought by enveloping you in a hug. “yn! that was so cool! you were so close!”

you felt your heart swell and you were filled with a burning feeling, a desire to try again; but first, you hugged minji back.

(you didn’t end up catching a dragonfly but it didn’t matter to you as long as minji was happy.)]

“of course!” she replied, closing her eyes to relive the memory.

suddenly, you moved, cupping your hand on the floor. minji looked on in curiosity as you wrapped your fingers around the thing in your hand, jumping back when she saw a frog’s head peek out.

“yn! why are you touching that!” she said, panicking.

“do you want to touch it?” you grinned, holding it out to her. she took a step back.

“no… thank you.”

“that’s a shame.”

you opend your palm out, and there the frog was, ready to leap. unfortunately, it was positioned in the direction of minji.

it jumped.

minji shrieked.

after minji had changed into clean clothes (she had run into the water after the frog jumped at her) you started helping your grandma with digging up the potatoes from her farm.

“dig those over there!” she said, waving a shovel in the direction she was referring to. 

you took two shovels and walked over the the patch of land— minji followed close behind. you tossed one of the shovels to her and started digging, minji doing the same.

“minji?”

“yeah?”

“where are you digging right now?”

“the land?”

“and what are you meant to be digging?”

“the… land?”

“… for what…”

“potatoes…?”

minji looked confused. you laughed internally— she was a bit silly but she was too cute for you to be annoyed.

“minji, do you see any potato plants there?” you asked.

“oh.”

“come over here and help me, don’t try and dig in a random place!” you laughed; minji pouted and walked over to you, tying her hair in a quick ponytail.

soon enough, you had amassed  quite a pile of potatoes. you carried them over in sacks to your grandma, who patted you on the back and told you to go inside. you tried to help her, but she said she didn’t need any help anymore and to go inside and rest, and- winked?

“it’s sooo hot.” you complained, wiping the sweat off your brow as you laid on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

“do you want me to get you ice water or something?” minji moved to get up but you pulled her down by the arm.

“it’s fine, let’s just,” you trailed off to close your eyes, “lay down to cool off.”

“okay.”

you both laid there in silence, until you spoke again.

“i’m bored.”

“you literally said we should lay down.”

“okay, i retract that statement! let’s do something!”

“no thanks,” minji replied tiredly.

“you’re so booring!” you said, getting up and shaking minji. “get up!”

“it’s going to be dinnertime soon.” minji said, still not opening her eyes.

just then your grandma walked in, holding a plate with two pieces of tinfoil.

“i baked some potatoes for you! be careful, they’re hot!” she said, and you smiled at her.

“thanks, halmeoni!”

“thank you so much!”

your grandma walked off to one of the other rooms to lie down while you ate potatoes.

“yn, do you want me to peel it for you? it’s hot so you should be careful.”

“no, its fine.” you said.

minji turned to her own potato.

“FUCK!”

she whipped her head back around to see you cradling your fingers.

“i think theyre burnt…”

“what did i tell you?” minji asked dryly.

that’s how you ended up with your back pressed to minji’s front as you stood over the sink, minji holding your finger under the running cold tap.

“see, this is why you think before you act.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” you replied. “i think it’s better now.

“are you sure? maybe we should do one more minute?”

in truth, you felt like you were going to explode if you stayed in this position any longer, minji peering over your shoulder to see your finger.

“i’m sure.” you said, turning off the tap. you wiped your fingers hurriedly on a towel and walked back out to the living room. your potatoes remained untouched.

“minji! the potatoes are going to cool! come quick!”

the sun was setting, the sky turning a myriad of pinks and oranges and yellows and painting the fields golden-green. you sat near the gate, closing your eyes to feel the soft breeze through your hair and your fingers entangled with minji’s. you tilted you head slightly to let it meet minji’s shoulder, and a soft smile dawned on your face.

“pretty,” minji said.

“i know, right?”

you didn’t notice she was looking at you while she said it until you locked eyes with her, and you felt your cheeks heat up at the realisation.

biting your lip, you tried to look anywhere but her, ultimately landing on a cloud somewhere in the distance.

“he-hey, doesn’t that cloud look like a dog?” you stumbled over your words nervously.

“well…” minji squinted, trying to understand what you meant. “no.”

“oh.”

the silence you fell into was neither awkward nor comfortable, it was somewhere in between— the comfort of two old friends with the tension of a… crush.

you didn’t lift your head from minji’s shoulder.

you crawled under the mosquito net, helping minji under as well.

“do you need a blanket?” she asked.

“in this weather?”

“i’m sorry for asking??” she said sarcastically.

“whatever.” you lay down on the thin bedding that you had put there earlier, hearing shuffling behind you.

“the floor is so hard.” minji said, turning to find a good position. 

“just sleep.” you replied, but you quietly slipped your hand in hers.

“your hand is so warm,” she said. she didn’t let go either way.

you didn’t know how much time had passed, it had to have been at least 30 minutes, an hour at most, until minji’s breathing evened out. you turned to look at her.

minji’s sleeping face was breathtaking, the pale moon casting a long ribbon of light between the gap in the curtains that came to rest on her face. her eyelashes lay on her cheek and her lips were parted slightly to allow for the rise and fall of her chest.

your heart raced. you hadn’t slept this close since you were kids. 

an urge overcame you. slowly, carefully, you leaned down and placed the softest of kisses on minji’s forehead, then quickly lay down, facing the other way.

if you had been paying any attention, you might’ve seen minji’s closes eyelids flutter slightly as your lips brushed her skin. unfortunately (or fortunately depending on which way you looked at it), you were too stunned by what you did to look that closely at minji.

your mind raced but still, your eyelids grew heavier and heavier, until you fell into dreamland.

when you woke up, the sun had already risen to almost its peak. you rubbed your eyes blearily and looked on at a sleeping minji beside you.

“minji?” you said.

there was a pause before minji answered you.

“huh?”

“you should probably wake up if we want to go to the creek. it’s almost midday!”

“okay.” she said, her head still foggy from sleeping.

you exited the mosquito net, making your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth. you squeezed some toothpaste, and you were halfway through brushing when you heard a sudden shriek. 

“minji? are you okay?” you rushed out into the corridor.

“SPIDER!” she screamed, and you relaxed, rolling your eyes.

“can you kill it?” she asked, suddenly sounding very small. she looked at you with big eyes, and you melted under her gaze.

“where is it?”

“i love you~” she said pointing to the spider, and though you knew it meant nothing, your heartbeat in your ears got louder all the same.

you took off your slipper and whacked the spider, feeling a sense of pride when minji called you her knight in shining armour.

“i need to get back to brushing my teeth.”

“stop looking at me!” minji said, a fanit blush dusting her cheeks.

“don’t pay attention to me, pay attention to the road!”

“i am!”

you leaned back in your seat with a huff.

“are you sure this is the right way?”

“well it’s what google maps says, so…”

she trailed off, then furrowed her eyebrows.

“hey, aren’t you meant to know the way?”

you decided to keep quiet.

minji set up the blanket at the bank of the creek as you peered into the water. it seemed to come up to your waist at the deepest, so you went to investigate.

the water was quite shallow at the edges, barely coming up to your ankles, but the rocks underneath were quite slippery. you walked further down until it was at your knees, and called minji.

“minji!” you yelled. she turned around, her hair tousled by the wind weaving through it. the sunlight streamed through the gaps between the leaves, dappling minji’s skin with golden spots.

she looked gorgeous.

you snapped out of your daze when minji started waving her arms around.

“hello~ yn?”

“y-yeah?”

“why did you say my name if you weren’t going to say anything?”

“oh! um, are you going to come into the water?”

“no, i think im just going to dip my toes in.”

“minjiii,” you whined. “pleaseee?”

she set herself down on the edge of the creek, putting only her feet into it. she threw stones at the water, watching as the surface mad circular ripples.

suddenly, you had a idea.

you lifted her foot up from the rocks and tickled the sole. immediately, minji jumped back.

“what was that for?” she exclaimed.

“i’ll do it again if you don’t come in.”

“fine.” she said begrudgingly.

she started walking into the water, before turning to you. the look on her face was mischievous, and you were about to ask her why she was looking at you like that before she reached down and splashed some water at you. 

“hey!” you said, and even though the water she splashed barely did anything to you, you retaliated with a bigger splash.

minji gasped. the look in her eyes changed.

“i’m going to get you back for this!”

the next splash was higher, and drenched the entirety of your exposed upper half.

“minji!” you screamed. you ran to try and splash her back. however, you lost your footing and slipped forwards. you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation of the fall.

the fall never came, because fortunately for you,minji was in front of you and caught you just in time.

“be careful.” she said, looking down at you. “are you okay?”

you responded by splashing her while she was off guard.

“that’s cheating!”

minji stepped out of the water, holding a hand out for you to grab as you did the same. as soon as you got out, you started shivering.

“are you cold?” minji asked, grabbing her jacket. “wear this.” she draped it over you, picking up the bags you had briught simultaneously. “now let’s go!”

she held her hand out for you to hold and you walked to the parking lot. at first, you both forgot where you parked the car, but after much searching you were finally able to load all of the bags into the trunk and both get into the car.

immediately, you connected your phone to the speaker, playing fanaticism by loossemble.

minji smiled from the driver’s seat— your music was so predictable.

you both walked out from the service station holding an ice cream each. the sun was setting, and you basked in the golden light.

minji opened the car door for you and you got in, unwrapping your seollaeim. soon after, minji appeared on the driver’s side, holding a pollapo in her hand. as you looked down at your ice cream, she bit her lip, opening he rmouth to say something then decidding better of it.

finally, she decided she needed to say something, at least.

“um, yn?”

“yeah?”

“can i tell you something? i… wasn’t dleeping yesterday.”

“what?”

“when you… kissed my forehead.”

“oh.”

“and i just wanted to say tha-“

“minji, i’m so sorry, i swear, ple-“

“let me finish! and i just wanted to say that i… like you.”

“oh. oh?”

“do you… like me back?” she said, the tips of her ears getting progressively redder.

“do you think i kissed you for fun?”

“that wasn’t a kiss. this is a kiss.”

and in the blink of an eye her lips were on yours and they were so soft and she tasted like vanilla and cinnamon and ice cream and home and you were having your first kiss. ever. with kim minji.

you pulled away for air.

“are we girlfriends now?”

she kissed you again.

a/n this took SO LONG ive been writing this since literally AUGUST 1ST

[yunholic-jongholic]

Over the Edge | S.MG x Reader

SUMMARY | You relentlessly go down on Mingi, pushing him to the edge of overstimulation as he begs you to stop, but you refuse to let up until you're fully satisfied.

PAIRINGS | Mingi x Fem!Reader

RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS | One Shot, Smut without Plot, SMUT, NSFW, Explicit Content, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Bondage Kink, Cum-eating, Begging. (Sorry if I missed some, I usually write these AFTER the story is finished and I forget some...)

WORD COUNT | 1.1k

AUTHOR NOTE | This was recommended by one of my mingi-ult bffs :] She helped me with this one. I have been on a roll recently, so you WILL see a lot of me now since I find comfort doing these stories!

•

After a long day at work, you finally stepped through the door, feeling exhausted. From the room, you could hear your boyfriend, Mingi, engrossed in some anime show. Needing a quick boost of energy, you headed to the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar from the pantry to tide you over. You decided to head to the room where Mingi was watching his show and sat down beside him. He welcomes you in smiling at you.

"How was your day?" Mingi asks, glancing at you as you plop down beside him with a sigh. "Not very good," you admit, your voice soft, "but I just needed to be with you." Slowly, you slide onto his lap, laying across him and cuddling into his chest, seeking the comfort only he could provide. You watched the show with him as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Want to take a nap with me?" you hum softly, gently caressing Mingi's arm. He looks down at you and nods with a small smile. Turning off the TV, he adjusts his position, wrapping himself around you, spooning you tightly as he throws the covers over both of you, his warmth instantly soothing you.

Mingi is the first to drift off, his breathing steady and peaceful against your back. Though sleep eludes you, you still feel completely at ease wrapped in his arms, his warmth and presence providing all the comfort you need. That's when you get the idea to wake him up, but you wait for 30 minutes to pass to do your plan.

After 30 minutes of lying awake, you finally sit up carefully, trying not to disturb Mingi. He stirs slightly, shifting onto his back, his peaceful expression unchanged. You gently pull the blanket off him, pushing it toward the corner of the bed, watching him as he sleeps soundly. You softly touch his thigh and move upwards closer to his crouch. You softly slid your hand over unzipping his pants and pulling his length out. Mingi shifts again and you stop in your tracks before continuing once he becomes peacefully still again.

You softly rub the base with your thumb almost caressing it softly. You hear Mingi let out a soft moan in his sleep and you start feeling his cock grow hard in your hand. Your eyes watch as he turns his head to the side and moans more.

"Ugh, he’s so cute…" you whisper softly to yourself, unable to resist. Leaning down, you press your lips to the tip of his cock, giving it a gentle lick. The taste of his precum lingers as Mingi suddenly stirs awake, his face flushing bright red when he realizes what’s happening.

"Y/N?!" Mingi jolts upright, his voice laced with shock and embarrassment. You pull back momentarily, offering a sheepish explanation. He sighs, running a hand through his hair, still blushing furiously.

"Well… I’m already hard," he mumbles, avoiding your gaze for a moment before meeting your eyes. "You might as well continue. Unless…" He pauses, his voice growing quieter but heavier with intent. "You’d rather have me fuck you?"

"I kind of want to do all the work—it helps me wake up," you say with a playful smile before lowering yourself back down, fully wrapping your lips around his shaft. Mingi lets out a low groan, his body tensing slightly at the sensation of your mouth on him again. The warmth of your touch and the way you were determined yet struggling to take all of him was already driving him wild. His fingers grip the sheets as he watches you, the sight alone enough to push him closer to the edge.

"Fuck." Mingi curses running his fingers onto your head pulling your hair up to grip it together. He starts thrusting upwards wanting you to take him deeper. You pull away and he whines at the loss of your touch.

"Please Y/N..." Mingi begs you to continue. You call him cute, but you get up and grab one of his ties and wrap it around his wrists and tie him to the bedframe. Mingi whines at you as he is now restrained. You smirk at his struggling and go back down on him attaching you lips back to his cock. You watch his reactions as you keep sucking him off. Mingi has his head turned back, eyes closed, biting his lip and grinding upwards to hit the back of your throat.

"I'm so close." Mingi moaned thrusting sloppy into the back of your throat causing you to slightly gag. You felt his member twitch and you pulled your head back as you continued to stroke his cock. Mingi became a mess as he came onto your hand.

"Fuck..." He cursed again legs trembling a tiny bit. You smiled at him rubbing the tip with your thumb. Mingi started panting heavily trying to catch his breath, his cock was twitching in overstimulation.

"Please... I don't think I can do another one." Mingi whimpered at you, and you smirked kissing his shaft. "Well, I can, and I am the one in charge tonight." You gave a small kitten lick over the tip before taking it back into your mouth. You felt him twitch more in your mouth causing him to moan and whine at the feeling.

"You are so noisy." You continued to work on Mingi, swirling your tongue over the shaft as you kept taking him in. You both were a complete mess, moaning, groaning, sloppy sounds. You were destroying Mingi, doing all the work and causing him to come undone beneath you.

"Y/N... Please!" Mingi was almost near crying out, throwing his head back and arching his back. Not even a few minutes in and he was already thrusting into your throat moaning and cumming once again, this time in your mouth. You sighed popping him out of your mouth, looking at Mingi who was panting and completely weak to even move.

"You taste good." You smirk and giggle at his reaction to you completely making a mess of him. Mingi pants heavily, you kiss his cheek and untie him as you whisper in his ear, "so are you ready for me to ride you now?" You slowly take off your underwear feeling how completely soaked they are. He looks into your eyes worried that you might kill him. Of course, you won't really but that's not how it looks to him.

"Can we take a break? I need a nap if we plan to do more..." Mingi pouts at you and you just smile telling him you still needed to be pleased, and this is the only way. Mingi just stared at you and sat up feeling extremely exhausted. "Should have revaluated my choices of picking you at the club when we first met..." He teased murmuring to himself. You rolled your eyes and went to kiss him. "Well, there is no refunds or returns." You kiss his lips holding yourself against him.

•

Thank you for reading! I didn't do much editing on this one and it was slightly rushed since my Mingki wifey wanted it done LMAO. Anyways hope y'all enjoyed! :>

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

HI I wanted to request like, size different and first time with Dave, but maybe like, reader is at his house or something and she has a tendency to steal his stuff (probably bracelets, cuffs) Dave finds her in one of his shirts and it drives him wild. I leave it up to you but also I really love your writing!!

A/n: I KEEP STARTING FICS WITH MOTIVATION AND RIGHT AS I GET TO THE SMUT I LOSE IT 😫

Warnings: smut, size difference, rough sex, manhandling, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

He looks fucking ethereal 😩

Dave caught you stealing his things more times than he could count, but he didn't mind since you almost always returned them and it was always just little things; a bracelet here, a brush there.

Of course he knew he was bigger than you, he was bigger than a lot of people. You'd use it to your advantage when you were in bed with him doing domestic things; laying on top of him, letting him spoon you, playing with his hands. You'd use him for warmth and he knew it.

So Dave knew he was bigger than you, he just hadn't realized how much bigger, and he definitely didn't realize how much it turned him on until he walked in on you getting ready for bed in his shirt.

You hadn't been seeing each other for that long, Dave had hired you to watch his house while he was on tour but he quickly grew a fondness for you. Instead of paying you he just let you live in his house, which made the relationship work great.

Earlier while you were making breakfast, part of your daily tasks, you realized you were running low on groceries. Your plan had been to clean all day and you hadn't factored in any time to leave so you made a list and asked Dave to get food on his way back home.

You were helping him get everything put away, it was late and you were tired, Dave could see you struggling to keep your eyes open.

"I can finish the rest." He said, pulling you to his side and kissing your forehead. "Go get ready for bed, you can barely keep your eyes open." He gave you butt a gentle pat and sent you on your way upstairs to your shared room while he finished getting everything put away.

When he was done he went upstairs, expecting to find you already crashed in bed as usual. He didn't think to check the bed before he went to the bathroom, the lights were off and the pillows resembled you in the sheets enough.

He froze in the doorway to the bathroom, seeing you brushing your teeth at the sink in nothing but an old band shirt of his. The way it draped over your figure, the sleeves coming down around your elbows.

You spat in the sink as he came up behind you. "What do you think you're wearing?" He asked, tone dark and voice gravelly as he spoke.

You blinked at him through the mirror, looking over yourself tiredly. "Beatles." You mumbled.

"I see that." He said, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head. "I meant, what are you doing wearing my shirt?"

You stared at yourself in the mirror a moment longer, running your toothbrush under water. You shrugged and set your brush in its place, taking a swig of water and moving it around your mouth before spitting it out.

"It's big." Dave hummed in agreement, eyeing your body closely through the loose fabric. "And comfy... smells like you..." You turned around in his arms to face him, shoving your face in his chest and wrapping your arms around him.

Dave lifted you up with ease, hands cupping your ass so he could carry you out of the bathroom and to the bedroom.

He laid you down on the bed and crawled on top of you. "You're tiny." He mused, kissing the tip of your nose.

You chuckled softly. “That’s mean.”

“I mean it.” He said, leaning closer and pushing his face into your neck. “You’re so small… how has no one broke you yet?” He pushed his hands under the hem of the shirt you wore, tracing the curve of your hips. “I should just be grateful that I get to do it, huh?” He asked, tugging your panties down.

You were tired and debated telling him to stop, but you also knew how caring he could be, and how easily you fell asleep when he made you cum.

You lifted your hips to help him take your panties off.

He ran his hands over your legs after tossing the small garment aside, cherishing the feel of your supple skin on his rough callouses.

He pulled his hands back and threw his shirt off, followed by his jeans and boxers. It’s not that you hadn’t done anything, of course you had, just not sex. Blowjobs, handjobs, mostly Dave was doing it to you because he liked hearing the noises you made, the small whines and soft moans.

Dave got off to making you feel good, it wasn’t a secret, but right now he wanted nothing more than to use you.

He ran his hands over your legs once more before hooking them under your thighs and pushing them up to your stomach, knees at your chest.

Your eyes widened and you yelped when he manhandled you, pushing you into the mattress with his weight. He smiled down at you. “That’s just perfect.” He mused. “Now hold them there for me.” You were hesitant but did as he ordered, holding yourself open for him.

Dave ran a finger through your slick folds, gathering your wetness and pushing a finger into you. “What a sweet thing, already so wet and I haven’t even done anything yet.” You clenched around his digit, biting your lip.

He pulled his finger back out and moved over you, lining himself up with your hole and pushing in, watching you writhe underneath him.

He brushed your hands off yourself and held your thighs tightly, mercilessly pounding into you as your moans filled the room.

You expected something sweet, the normal Dave that would talk you through it and focus on how good you felt, not the Dave that stared at the bulge in your stomach and pressed his palm down on it, not the Dave that squished and pushed and forced you into new positions.

Still, that look in his eyes, the way his lip curled. You called out his name, begging to cum.

“Aw, pretty girl thinks she’s good enough for that?” He grunted out, hips slamming into yours at a brutal pace. Your body was flushed, a thin layer of sweat covering you. He leaned down, hooking your knees over his shoulders.

His thrusts got faster, more desperate. “Fuck,” he grunted. “I fill you up so good, you’re so fucking tight.” You whined, clawing at his shoulder and burying your face in the crook of his neck, his thick hair covering you.

“Every inch.” He mused. “Every single fucking inch of you, mine.” His kissed along your neck, not slowing his pace. “All fucking mine.” He bit down on your neck, hard enough to leave a mark.

Your eyes rolled back, unable to stop yourself from giving in to the pleasure he was giving you. You moaned out his name, body melting into the mattress.

He let you ride out your high, coaxing you through it as he always did with praised and words of affection. “There you go, just let it out, darling, let me make you feel good.”

However, when you were twitching as you came down from it he didn’t stop. He pulled away for a second and flipped you over, forcing your head into the pillow and holding your ass up for him. “Pretty bunny.” He purred, leaving a last kiss on your shoulder before thrusting into you again.

[uracutieraka]

Nobody noticed

✧⋄⋆⋅��⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

No one tried

To read my eyes

No one but you

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Keigo Takami x f!reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Tw: angsty, friends to lovers.

Synopsis; SPOILERS FOR S7 UNDER CUT

After Keigo loses his quirk, he falls in a dark spot mentally. As his best friend, it's obviously your job to help him out of that low point.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

"Keigo?" You call out, his apartment is cold and dark. Beer cans and other miscellaneous pieces of trash are scattered about. You sigh and lazily kick your shoes off, dropping your purse and keys on the floor beside them.

You flip the light switch in his hallway on and call out for him again.

"What?" A deep voice calls back, slurring the word. You roll your eyes and finish walking towards the closed door of his bathroom. You push the door open and scoff at him. He's laying in his underwear on the floor. Empty bottles around him.

"You've been drinking? In the bathroom?"

He now looks up at you and rolls his eyes as he turns away from you, sulking on his floor. You don't miss the way his under eyes are dark red. You huff and lay down on his bathroom floor with him, acting as big spoon.

Your face is smooshed up against his back.

"Y'know you're the only person who I'd lay on a bathroom floor with, right?" A moment of silence goes by and you feel him inhale deeply before exhaling.

"Yeah. I know."

"And you know I love you, so, so, sooooo, much?"

"And I you." His voice is quiet and strained. You feel a pang of sadness strike through your chest.

"But, can we not lay on your dirty bathroom floor?"

He grumbles out something along the lines of needing to shower and you unwrap yourself from him and stand up, moving around his restroom.

He watches you with lidded eyes as you turn on the shower for him.

1,2,3, turns to the right.

1,2,3,4, turns to the left.

You stand over him and put a hand out. He stares at you for a moment but you wiggle your fingers and he sighs wile grabbing your hand.

You both groan as you pull him up, he chuckles a bit at how dramatic you are.

You put your hand under the water to check the temperature. His gaze lingers on the way your hair is falling out of the bun you had probably thrown it in before you got on the train here, like you normally do. He was always fascinated with the way you seemed to effortlessly twist your hair around and tie it up.

"The waters just how you like it," You say, turning back to him as you dry your hand off with his towel that's hung up next to the shower. "I'll be on the couch." You move past him but hhis hand tugs the back of your work shirt. You turn to face him.

"Just," His eyes meet yours and you can feel the sadness in them throughout your whole body. "turn around so I can get in really quick."

This wasn't an abnormal request, from either of you. You two had known each other since you were 8, so sitting in the bathroom with one another was a regular occurrence.

You nod and turn to face the door, closing your eyes just to make sure you didn't see anything extra.

You listen as the metal of the curtain rod gets scraped by the curtain rings and turn around once it stops. Your eyes make out his figure through the sheer fabric of his curtain. You turn towards his mirror, wiping away the condensation and looking at your disheveled appearance. Rubbing your hands over your face before redoing your hair.

"Keigo." he hums back as a response. "Are you gonna be okay?"

The sound of the water fills your ears, then the squeak of him turning the knobs to cut the water off.

You quickly move to hand him his towel and he thanks you.

You watch as he pulls the curtain open, now looking at you.

"I'm gonna be fine Y/n." He now steps out of the shower, kicking the empty glass bottle in the process.

"Okay but is this like, 'I'm only saying this to shut you up' fine or fine fine?"

He rolls his eyes at you as he uses his body to shove you out of the way of his sink. He reaches out for his toothbrush and fumbles with the cap of his toothpaste.

"No, like, I'm fine. Right now." He doesn't give you a chance to continue the conversation because he shoves the toothbrush in his mouth and looks down at the sink. You watch as he blankly stares at the white marble. Your brows furrowed in thought.

He spits out the foam and rinses his toothbrush, when he's done he rushes past you and flings the door open so quick it makes you jump a it. He disappears, presumably into his bedroom to find clothes.

You stare at the empty doorway. Contemplating following him. Your lip is raw from where you'd been chewing at it all day long, a habit you developed at some point in your teenage years, when Keigo started going on real solo missions.

You push off the counter top and walk out to his hallway, looking into his dark bedroom. You scoff and walk in, turning the light on.

His back muscles ripple while he digs in his drawers for a shirt. Sweatpants hung low on his hips. Your lips are pulled tightly together now. He turns to look back at you, quickly throwing I head over his shoulder.

"I promise. I'm fine."

You let out your nth sigh of the evening and walk over to him, palms laying flat over his back as you run your hands up, over his shoulder blades. He shivers under the touch and you feel tears prick your eyes.

"I'm not.," Your voice is shaky and it causes him to try and turn around quickly, though you stop him by grabbing his shoulders and turning him back around. "I never used to be able to do this. It's weird." Your fingers now gently trace where his wings used to be. The skin is so smooth, it's as if they were never there.

"Yeah. It is weird." His voice cracks and you allow your hands to wrap around his waist, yet again pulling yourself flush with his back. His hands come up to hold your arms.

"I wish it was me and not you." It was true, you hardly ever used your quirk anymore, despite the endless training you endured as a kid. It was almost as if you didn't even have one now.

"Don't say that." His voice is low as he speaks. You can feel the vibrations of his words due to your close proximity to him.

"I don't even use it anymore."

He now peels your arms off him and turns to face you, hands cupping your face as a solemn smile sits on his lips. His hands drop from your face to your shoulders, rubbing down your arms and back up them.

"I am fine. It's just hard to adjust s'all." His hands come back up to your face, thumbs rubbing slow circles on the apples of your cheekbones. You melt into the touch, your own hands coming up to cup the ones on your face.

"Just promise you're not gonna do anything stupid?" You have wide eyes as you look at him, he swears he might melt into the creaky floorboards of his run down apartment.

"Never," he shakes his head left and right, left and right. "Never, ever."

You giggle at his vigorous head shaking, ands words.

"I said promise." You stick your hand in his face, its balled up in a fist, excluding your pinky which stuck out towards him. He takes his hands off your face and you momentarily frown at the loss of contact.

"Okay, I promise." He threads his finger with yours, pulling your hand into his chest, then the rest of you. You lean into the familiar warmth and hum in delight.

"Good. I'd probably die without you." He squeezes you tighter at your words. Grunting something about how you're unfair.

You begin bickering with him about how it's not unfair to think that way, but there's no malicious intent between the two of you.

He pokes at your sides and you shriek, poorly attempting to push out of his hold before he starts tickling you, but you fail and he launches a full blown attack.

You're screaming and laughing, trying to run from him, but he's stronger and faster than you are. He picks you up and WWE style, slams you on to his bed.

"Oh, you are so dead Keigo." Your voice is stern but the smile on your face gives your true intentions away.

He quirks up his eyebrow at you mockingly.

"Try me." You shoot back a similar look and that when he pounces. Tackling you back on to the bed. Laughs rumble from both of your chests. You struggle out of his grasp, head falling into his pillows. He follows you, crawling completely over you.

You both are coming down from laughing, giggles escaping the both of you.

He's fully over you and his eyes are baring into yours. It's like you two had an unspoken conversation, which you both quickly learned you did a lot, and others thought it was creepy. You two were always quick to find each others eyes, unspoken words always exchanged. This time though, this conversation was serious. Something that couldn't be put into words.

It was automatic for you, like your brain switched off. Your hands cupped his face and pulled him to you. He shudders when he feels your warm breath on his lips. Your eyes flicker down to his then back up to his golden eyes, asking a silent question.

He nods, up and down, its such a slight movement that if you didn't have your hands on the side of his face you probably wouldn't even know he did it.

You close the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips against his so quick that when you pull away, he chases after you. He doesn't get the chance to fully open his eyes again because you pull him back in.

The kiss starts off slow and languid, but soon becomes fervent. Teeth clashing together, tongues fighting one another's. Eventually you pull away for air. Giggling when he pouts.

"Y/n."

"Ooo, your serious voice."

He sits back, and you push up onto your elbows. He wipes his hands on his sweats and your brows knit together.

"Y/n, uhm, look, I've done a lot of thinking lately, and I mean a lot.," he lets out a gust of air and looks down at his lap before looking back at you. "I love you."

You feel your heartbeat quicken at his words, they weren't abnormal to hear, but this was different. He goes to say something else but you cut him off.

"I love you too." You sit up, folding your legs underneath you to lean back over to him, yet again closing the distance.

He kisses back but pulls away after a moment.

"Like, love me love me?" He looks like a kid in a candy store.

You nod, just as eager as him.

"Like, love you love you."

He harshly pushes his lips back on yours and you fall back a bit with a grunt. He crawls back over you and you fall flat on your back again. He kisses all over the side of your face and you giggle when he leaves light kisses on yours ear.

“Kei- stop! That tickles!” You shiver when he chuckles lowly at your resistance. Ignoring you and continuing his actions.

Yeah Keigo Takami was definitely going to be okay.

Playlist

[uhbambii]

A Warm Greeting

The Dellamorte villa was quiet, bathed in the warm, golden glow of twilight filtering through the high windows. In the kitchen, Rook stirred a pot of rich, frothy hot chocolate over a low flame. Her deft hands moved with ease, though her focus waned, drifting to the familiar weight of anticipation. He’d be here soon. Lucanis Dellamorte always arrived silently, though she could pick out his footsteps, they carried an unmistakable rhythm that made her heart leap every time.

She reached for a second mug. He’ll expect one, she thought with a smirk.

The kitchen floor creaked, and there he was, framed by the fading light of day. Lucanis, with his dark hair tousled by the wind and those piercing eyes that could unnerve and enthrall in equal measure, leaned casually against the doorframe. He looked as if he owned the world—or at least the space he stood in.

“Rook,” he said, voice low and rich like a whisper from shadows.

Without turning, she decided to try her hand at a phrase she’d overheard in the market. Dalish, they’d said. A loving greeting that might spark a reaction from her lover. “Emma salin,” she purred, letting the words roll off her tongue like liquid silk.

The room fell into a stunned silence.

When she finally looked up, Lucanis was frozen, a slow grin breaking across his face. A laugh escaped him, warm and genuine, yet tinged with wicked amusement.

“Emma salin?” he repeated, voice a velvet tease as he pushed off the doorframe and sauntered toward her. His movements were unhurried, predatory, like a cat toying with its prey. “Do you know what that means, Tesoro?”

She tilted her head, playing innocent despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach. “Isn’t it a friendly greeting? Like… ‘Welcome home’?”

Lucanis stopped just short of her, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned against the counter, folding his arms. “Not quite.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance as he stepped closer, invading her space with that maddening confidence.

“It means,” he began, his lips curving into a slow, deliberate smirk, “I want you within me.”

Rook froze, the heat of a blush creeping up her neck as the meaning sank in. The wooden spoon slipped from her fingers, clattering into the pot of hot chocolate.

His laugh was deep, rich, and utterly unapologetic. “Was that the effect you were going for, uccellina? Or was this a happy accident?”

She turned back to the pot, stirring it furiously to avoid his gaze. “I was just testing a phrase. Thought it might mean something… sweet.”

“It’s sweet, in a way,” Lucanis said softly, his voice warm and light, a playful lilt in his words as he took a step closer. His breath brushed against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “And very tempting. I must admit, I’m flattered.”

Rook spun around, holding the spoon in front of her like a little shield, though the smile creeping onto her lips betrayed her nerves. “Don’t get smug,” she said, her voice trying to sound firm but failing miserably. Before she could step away, he was already there, leaning in just enough to press her lightly against the counter. His hand rested gently on her lower back, pulling her a bit closer, the warmth of his touch wrapping around her like a cozy blanket. His other hand braced beside her, fingers curling against the counter with a quiet confidence, and his eyes twinkled with affection.

“Smug? Never,” he whispered, his words teasing yet full of sweetness that made her heart flutter. His lips brushed against her temple, soft and tender, sending a warm wave of comfort through her. His familiar scent filled the air, wrapping her in a sense of calm and safety.

“You should be careful with Dalish phrases, uccellina,” he continued, his voice a mix of gentle sweetness and teasing warmth. “You might start something you’re not ready to finish.”

Rook’s breath caught, her heart racing, but she was determined not to let him see just how much his words affected her. “Says who?” she replied, her voice breathless but trying to sound confident, though she couldn’t help the way her pulse quickened.

Lucanis chuckled softly, a rich, warm sound that made her chest tighten with a pleasant ache. His hand shifted at her waist, his thumb brushing the soft skin above her hip in the gentlest way, and it felt like her heart was melting. “I have no doubt about your determination,” he said as he leaned in, his face just inches from hers, their breaths mingling in the space between them. His lips hovered above hers, warm and so close that she could feel the thrum of his heartbeat. “But finishing something…” he whispered, his voice low and affectionate, “requires a kind of control. And you, uccellina, seem to lose that control when you’re near me.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, but she didn’t move away. The air between them was thick with sweetness, with a quiet warmth that made everything outside feel distant and unimportant. “You’re so sure of yourself,” she said, though her voice trembled slightly, betraying the fluttering in her chest. “Maybe I’ll surprise you.”

His smile deepened, impossibly warm and tender, and her stomach fluttered with something sweet, something pure. He pressed closer, so that their bodies were nearly together, the heat of him enveloping her in a soft, happy warmth. Gently, he took the spoon from her hand, dipping it into the hot chocolate with a slow, deliberate movement, never breaking eye contact. He lifted it to his lips, tasting it with a soft hum of approval. “Delicious,” he murmured, his voice smooth and sweet. “But I think I might crave something even sweeter.”

Rook whispered, “Stop it, you flirt,” but her fingers had a mind of their own, curling into his shirt and pulling him a little closer, not wanting the moment to end.

“Stop what?” he whispered back, his voice warm and teasing, his smile full of affection and something more. He leaned in just a fraction closer in a way that made her heart race.

“Lucanis,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, soft and full of longing. Her chest tightened with the proximity, her heart racing.

His response was so tender, so full of affection, that it took her breath away. His lips pressed to hers, slow and gentle, the kind of kiss that felt like time had stopped. His hand slid up her back, fingers gently threading through her hair, drawing her closer as though they’d always been meant to be this close. Every movement was full of quiet promise, and in that moment, the whole world seemed to fade away.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she matched the pace of his kiss, soft and tender. The connection between them felt so natural, so right, like a quiet certainty they didn’t need to speak. They paused only to catch their breath, and then he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his voice a playful whisper. “You taste better than chocolate,” he murmured, his words wrapped in sweetness, making her heart flutter in her chest.

They both laughed softly, their laughter mingling like a shared secret, as they stood there, wrapped in the warmth of the villa and the even warmer feeling between them. The pot of hot chocolate sat forgotten on the counter, but neither of them cared. In that moment, all that mattered was the quiet, perfect sweetness of being together—the kind of closeness that made everything feel like it was exactly as it was meant to be.

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Short, sweet and not my greatest work 😭

But rookanis fluff?

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[fashionteahouse]

Happy Thanksgiving!

I was wondering if you could make a pack in heat, and they really want the reader. Maybe a spin off of tongues?

heyy happy holidays ! sorry i’m just now seeing this as i’m knocking out my requests but ofc i can 💜 hope you enjoy :)

heat - pack x reader

Sam:

The flowers that were starting to bloom was an indication of spring time. Spring time indicated the wolf being ready to mate and was in heat. He didn’t care for the shorts that you had left for him on the back porch. The home that you both shared was in his eyesight as he walked inside. The smell of you made his muscles tightened as his mouth watered with covet. You couldn’t even finish the mixing that you were doing, the mixing spoon was abandoned in the bowl as his nose brushed against the skin that carried the intoxicating smell. His hands felt your body as you felt the poke of his hardness on your backside. He wants you to face him as he turns your body around to do just that. You immediately see the dark eyes that stared back at you and they were dripping with dominance but also need. The dominance and need pushed through as he took control of your mouth with his.

Jared:

His actions gave it away. He couldn’t help it when his wolf pushed close to the surface, a low rumble was deep in his chest from his purr as you were sound asleep sleeping next to him. You were exhausted from him keeping you up all night. His morning wood stood strong and he landed kissed on your face. Your eyelids fluttered as they tried to open but his lips were there on your eyelid, causing you to breathe out a light chuckle. His hands weren’t ashamed to feel you up as he silently told you what he wanted. His dark eyes were hooded as his hips fluidly rolled on you, your sigh was muffled as he then moved his large body. You let yourself be in submissive to the man that had the wolf prowling to the surface.

Leah:

It scared her a bit when she experienced it for the first time. Her wolf was restless but calmed down when it came to you. Your smell was something that made her wolf excited. The sheets were always wrinkled during this period of time but neither of you cared. All you felt was the radiating warmth seep onto your body as sweat dripped off from one another. She was a bit hard to keep up with as her drive was great but the release was well worth it as her touches felt so good. His lips never left your skin, her fingers felt magical as they dipped into the sticky honey that was produced from between your legs.

Embry:

Everything seemed to be like a tease to him, especially during this time of the year. Especially now, while you were bent over, with your underwear covered bottoms, picking up your discarded shirt. The throb that was forming between his legs couldn’t even be relieved with his hand alone and his wolf wanted nothing more than his mate. Giggles erupt from your throat as he pulled you back into bed. Ready to claim you as his own.

Paul:

There was no shame in him wanting to be aggressive as far as his touches. The public display of affection was great. You usually didn’t mind it but it was almost too hot for you to handle. Leading you into the forest, he kept whispering, “Do you want to?” Looking down at his excitement of his shaky hands as he felt them on you, you couldn’t help but get excited as well. Your back was to the tree trunk as you looked into his dark and dominating eyes. His nose pressed forward against your neck as your touches only wanted amplify his need for you anymore.

Seth:

He was appreciative that the person who was his mate was submissive to his needs. You knew that at a certain time within the year, he would be all over you more than usual. If that was possible. He kept talking about his mouth watering you smelled, looked, and even tasted after he nipped at your skin. You liked this side of him deep down because he didn’t hold back with what he wanted. You encouraged him to let go and you bared your neck to him as pressed himself against you.

Jacob:

He was demanding but, you expected no less. The small flicks of yellow in his eyes, showed his wolf scratching at the surface. He just couldn’t get enough of you. He had no interest in taking detours after patrol because the faster he could get home, the faster he could get to you. Wet kisses trailed your skin and the weight of his body felt delicious as you encouraged him to keep going with your touches feeling his skin. It took some time to get used to that only one round of love making was just simply not enough, he had to keep going and going and you let him get it all out.

Quil:

The focus was great as you two were in a haze. He wasn’t normally aggressive but you encouraged it when his wolf instincts were strong. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you at all. However, his dark eyes made it known that he could smell your arousal fresh in the air. The dominating nature made you excited and this only excited the wolf that was deep within him. Shiver spells were astronomical as you clutch onto his skin. Leaving behind dents and marks were the signs of the passion that was rising.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hi! I'm so glad to see your open askbox! I'd like to request a headcanon for KnB! How would GOM + Kagami react when their s/o walk in on them taking a shower naked and just casually invite themselves taking a shower with the boys? Thank you for taking my request and I hope you have a great week!

GoM + Kagami - s/o shower time

Akashi

Akashi sighed as the warm water hit his body. His shoulder relaxing in one of the few moments he had to himself. He wanted to get a quick shower before he went to go meet his father for dinner. Their monthly ritual now that he had moved out of the house.

He had just turned around to rinse his back went he heard one of the glass double doors open and [Y/N] standing there. “Mind if I join you?”

They must have known that he was tense about meeting his father; not hard to guess as he usually was. They had tried to be cheerful when he got home. Tried to be supportive. Tried to give him some space. Finally, when none of that seemed to work, they seemed to be going with base physical pleasure as a distraction.

“Of course. You’re always welcome my love.”

They smile and step into the double headed shower with Akashi. Then quickly into his arms. He was certainly more relaxed than usual meeting his father today. Maybe a ‘hot shower’ was called for every month now.

Aomine

‘Shit!’ Aomine cursed to himself as he jumped into his cold shower and instantly started soaping down.

Why did he always have to play Russian roulette with his alarm? He always had to push it too close for those extra few minutes and then here they were. Late. Too late to even let his shower heat up and try to keep the soap out of his eyes.

“Mind if I join you?”

Aomine looked up and over his shoulder to his s/o standing there. Nothing on but their smile. His morning wood that was coming down from the cold shower up to full mast again.

“Sure.” He replied with an equal grin before he pulled them into the shower. Hell he was already late. No point in rushing now.

Kise

Kise hummed to the music still playing in his head from the photoshoot. Still buzzing from all the energy.

It was different than when he played basketball, but still got him hyped. Everyone running around. The intensity to get the perfect shot. Quick changes for costumes. It was all a blur sometimes, but he must have done a good job because the photo director thanked him for his hard work.

He had just gotten home and wanted to take a quick shower before bed. Making sure to get the last of the makeup and hair products off before he slipped into clean sheets.

He was just about to step in when he heard the door open and turned around. “Mind if I join?” [Y/N] asked with a cheeky grin. Apparently having waited up for him, unlike he imagined.

“Sure!” Kise replied enthusiastically before moving aside to let them in first. “I missed you.” He told them once they were both under the water. Kissing them sweetly as rivulets trickled down their bodies.

Kuroko

It was usually pretty easy for Kuroko to sneak out of the bed and into the shower. Given that his presence was low, as long as he and s/o weren’t actively spooning or snuggled up Kuroko could slip out without waking them.

He had just finished up showering when he heard the door open and [Y/N] ask, “mind if I join you?” just as he was turning off the water.

They seemed a little crestfallen that they had missed their chance, so Kuroko reached behind him and turned the water back on. “I think I missed a spot. Wanna help me get it?”

Midorima

5:15 – wake up. morning ablutions.

5:45 – jog

6:30 – rehydrate and start coffee for the morning

6:45 - shower

Midorima had a very set way he liked to get ready for the morning. Following a routine led to increased performance through practice. A mentality he had always had about nearly all aspects of his life.

He was just about to wash his hair, at precisely 6:50 like usual, when he heard the bathroom door open. He knew it had to be [Y/N]. No one else was in the apartment. It wasn’t unheard of that they would be up at this time and was not usually a disturbance to his schedule, so it didn’t bother him. Usually.

“Mind if I join you?”

Midorima wiped around when he heard their voice in the shower. Naked, he assumed. He didn’t have his glasses on so it was hard to see. But the implication was quite clear.

“I uh…I have to get breakfast started.”

His logic didn’t seem to stop them, however, as they still invited themselves into his shower with some pretense about efficiency and better use of time, and all that. He didn’t argue, but it was certainly a disruption to his schedule.

Murasakibara

The alarm by his bed chirped cheerfully to the sound of his current favorite anime, before Murasakibara’s fist came down and pounded it into silence.

He wasn’t a morning person. He was barely a daytime at all kind of person. Kuro-chin had suggested using a song that sparked happy memories to wake up to as a way to be more excited about getting up, but, of course, it had failed.

Sitting up with a big, bear of a yawn, Murasakibara got out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom to get ready. He brushed his teeth while he waited for the shower to heat up, and debated about going back to bed. Stepping into the shower he stood under the water motionless for a while before he heard the curtain pull back.

“Mind if I join you?”

His normal, dull expression perked up as he saw [Y/N]-chin standing there. Suddenly not so sleepy anymore. “Sure.” Murasakibara tried to move and make space for them with his large frame. Hard to manage but they made it work.

This was a much better way to wake up in the morning. He’d have to tell Kuro-chin that this was a much better plan than stupid alarms.

+Kagami

“I’m gonna take a shower.” Kagami announced as he and s/o finished up their movie for the night and prepared for bed.

He’d always taken a shower before bed, even before coming to Japan. It was hit or miss in the states on if people did or didn’t, and maybe it was his parents Japanese background that led to their custom in their house, but he always did it. It just made sense to him. Getting all the germs & dirt of the day off. Kagami was sort of a neat freak on the inside, cultivated from having to keep his own place clean for years.

Halfway through his shower, Kagami looked up when he heard the door open. Thinking he would see [Y/N] in their pjs getting ready to brush their teeth for bed through the glass, but instead seeing them naked.

“Mind if I join you?”

Kagami could feel his face flush from more than just the hot water. His hands instinctively moving to cover himself, despite the half frosted modest glass already in place. Feeling very exposed. “I uh…I…”

[Y/N] seemed to take his hesitation as a time to be bold and opened the door. They had been together for a while, and had been intimate, just not in the shower. It was a secret fantasy that everyone had, that his mind was having trouble processing on was actually about to come true.

“Are you sure this is safe? I don’t want you to slip and crack your head open.”

[boneapplet]

From Rust and Bone pt.5

Chronicles of the Lost Primarch

Relationship: Rogal Dorn x oc/afab!reader

Warnings: recovering from an injury

Word Count: 1593

Requested tag:@noncon-photobomb @beckyninja

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt 10

As dawn comes, the first rays of sunlight filter through the jagged edge of the ridge, turning the vent mist a deep ochre. Wind slides through the gaps in the stone with a sigh. Dorn is still sitting by the cave mouth, wrapped in the old beast-pelt cloak, eyes open, but not focused. He’s been there since last night. Through the wind shifts. Through Arravox’s humming fading into silence. He didn’t sleep, didn’t move much either. Simply watching, listening as if the world might shift in those dark hours and he’d be the only one to witness it.

Body aching—not the sharp, surgical kind. But the dull marrow-throb of a man pushing beyond what he’s rebuilt, shifting to stand. Instinctively, he reaches out with his left hand—toward the rock wall, toward the crate he’d leaned on before, to steady himself. There’s nothing there. Sometimes, he forgets. He doesn’t curse, doesn’t sigh. Taking a moment before he takes a breath. Then he reaches again with the hand he still has. Grips the crate. Rises, slowly, spine cracking as it unfolds. Dust clings to his knees, the hem of the cloak. That’s how Kessa finds him.

Emerging from the rear cavern, hair tied back, already in her patchwork jacket, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Blinks at the sight of him still upright, still on guard.

“Did you sleep at all?”

He doesn’t answer, though that’s answer enough for her. Walking over, she studies his posture. The tightness in his jaw, the sunken hollows under his eyes.

“Alright,” she says finally. “Come eat. You’re done being heroic.”

She doesn’t wait for protest—just turns and heads toward the stew pot, already simmering on the low burner near the ventstone. Dorn watches her go; he doesn’t move at first. Giving the land beyond the cave a look over before following. Not because he’s told to but because for the first time in years, he’s beginning to understand what it means to be needed, not just obeyed.

               Taking a seat by the vent stove while she ladles out the stew—root-heavy, flecked with cured meat and something green that smells vaguely like licorice and ash. She passes him the bowl and a spoon.

“Go slow,” she warns.

“I remember.”

Still, he’s hungry. He grips the spoon, a little too tight, scoops up a mouthful. The heat of it hits first—comforting. The taste is stronger than the broth he remembers. More texture. More weight. His body leans toward it. The first bite goes down fine. The second bites back—sits heavy in his gut like a stone. By the third, his throat tightens. Jaw clenches. Muscles lock. His body, still half starved, not ready for real food, begins to reject it. Setting the spoon down carefully, his hand trembling. He leans forward, not retching—just stilling the surge of nausea, breathing in shallow, silent pulls. Kessa doesn’t rush to help, she just waits, calm, arms folded.

“Told you, “She murmurs. “Drip-fed ghosts can’t eat like warriors.”

He doesn’t look up right away, just stares into the bowl. Frustration wells up behind his ribs—cold and humbling. He survived gods, guns, heresy. But now, he’s losing to a bowl of stew.

“How long before it gets easier?”

“Depends how stubborn you are,” she says. “Eat slivers. Chew more than you think you need. Don’t rush.”

“I don’t like being fragile.”

“You’re not. You’re recovering. Difference is in the direction.”

He snorts, barely. Then picks up the spoon back up and tries again. While he doesn’t finish the bowl, he at least ate more than yesterday. She calls that a win. Still, when he stands, shoulder stiff and spine bent from the long night sitting vigil, she frowns at him like she might hit him with the spoon.

“Go lie down.”

“There’s work to do.”

“And you’ll do it wrong if you collapse. Cot. Now.”

“Are you always this kind to your invalids?”

“No. Just the stubborn ones.”

He gives her a look. Something almost like a smirk. But it fades quick. Eventually, he listens. Heading to the bed resting in the nook. This time, sleep takes him fast and deep—no reaching, no ghosts, no phantom limbs. Just stillness.

The air smells like sulfur and salted hides when he stirs. Late morning. Warmer. Light from the vents streaks across the ceiling. He doesn’t rush, sitting up and stretching the stiffness from his back before he rises. Outside the chamber, Kessa is already working. He hears the rhythmic sound of harness rings being sorted, chain straps checked and oiled. The quiet huff of Arravox repositioning nearby. He doesn’t announce himself. Stepping up beside her, he takes one of the cracked tack pieces from the pile and begins untangling it.

She glances once. Doesn’t comment. Just hands him the oil cloth. They work in rhythm. No fanfare. No orders. Just… a pair of hands—one whole, one not—easing a life forward together. Their shared silence being broken by low vibrations. A rumbling that rolls through the stone like breath through a sleeping god.

He cautiously heads to the cave mouth, hand on the frame for balance. Below the rise, in the valley, large beasts were gathering. Towering creatures, muscle-backed and spike-ridged, shifting in slow, instinctive patterns. Their shaggy hides ripple as they grunt and snort, herding themselves into loose formations, eyes blinking slowly in the sulfurous light. Kessa comes to stand beside him, arms crossed, chewing a piece of dried root.

“They feel it,” she says.

“The season?”

“Yeah. Cold pushes them down into the grave-canyons. Same path every year, but they don’t always make it. Storms cut them off. Or scrappers hit them for meat.”

She glances at him.

“I go with them partway. Make sure the young don’t get lost. Trade with the cliff folks if I can.”

Taking a moment before saying “I could use another set of hands.”

Dorn doesn’t answer right away. He watches the beasts lumber forward, driven by instinct and survival and the deep cycles of this harsh world.

“You’d trust me to help?”

“You’re already helping,” she replies. “This is just… bigger.”

               They move onto repairing the emergency door at the cave’s mouth. Preparing to seal their makeshift home shut till their return. He braces parts while she hammers them. He

“You’ve got an eye for structure,” she says.

“I built fortresses that outlived suns,” he replies.

“Cool. You can build a door now.”

               Dorn finds himself looking out towards where he can barely see the herd grazing.

“They’ll be passing through the narrows soon,” Kessa says, watching them. “We’ll need to scout ahead. Check the cliffs, make sure nothing’s collapsed.”

Dorn nods, “I’ll be ready.”

“Alright then,” she says. “I’ll prep a saddle for you. I don’t feel like hauling you again.”

He smirks, just barely “I’d rather not be hauled.”

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

Outside the cave mouth, the light sharpens. The air carries a scent that makes Kessa’s jaw tighten—mineraled heat, distant chemical bloom from the lower vents. The first sign that the season’s truly shifting. The beasts don’t wait for comfort. They move when the ground starts to breathe wrong.

Kessa’s already begun sorting the gear when Dorn joins her: saddles, water casks, tarp-sealed crates, bridle chains, and the all-important caustic wraps for the exposed skin of packbeasts. He doesn’t speak, getting straight to patching the last of the wiring along the internal rim of the door She watches him for a beat.

“Didn’t think you’d be up this quick.”

“Didn’t think you’d leave the harnesses in a pile.”

She snorts at his response. The work is brutal in its own quiet way—leather hard from last season’s rains, buckles rusted, oils congealed in the cold. But they move through it with the same rhythm they’d used with the stew and the cradle before it: try, pause, adjust, continue.

“You ever done a migration?” she questions him.

“Not like this.”

“Herd’s half-feral. Terrain shifts after the second ridge. You fall behind; the rains will strip your skin before you find cover.”

“Then I won’t fall behind.”

She gives him a long look. Not challenging—just reading him.

“You’ll ride with Arravox. He remembers you. It’ll help.”

He nods. Quiet as he oils the cinch buckles, checks for splits in the belly straps. One-handed, but deft. Learning how to be useful again. Not as a warrior. As a person. They work until noon, when the light gets thin, and the sulfur haze starts crawling up from the basin.

“We’ll need to leave in two days,” she says.

“Enough time to get everything ready?”

“If you keep helping.”

"Then we’ll be ready.”

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

Morning breaks with sulfur wind and the low grumbling of the herd in their holding pit. The beasts sense it before humans do—the shift in air pressure, the roll of toxins through vents deep below. Something in the earth is moving. The land is about to change. By now, Dorn works beside Kessa like he’s always belonged there. She doesn’t explain everything anymore, just passes tools, gestures, trusts him to know.

They test-pack the gear: dried food, medkits, cloth bundles sealed in acid-proof wrap, bundles of arrow-spine bark for fire starting. He secures the crate latches, tests the sled harness tension by leaning his weight back against the chain loop. Arravox hums low as they fit his massive saddle frame—multiple rigs, side-load bindings, ventcloth covering for his neck ridges.

“He’ll carry the heavy load,” Kessa says, tightening the straps. “Keep him calm if the wind cuts sharp.”

“Will he listen to me?” Dorn questions as he finishes prepping the gear.

“He’s already listening.”

Every time Dorn comes near, the beast shifts its head, tracking him, slow and deliberate. Mounting the large beast was a bit of a hassle, noticing the struggle Arravox shifts his leg aiding Dorn by giving him a step to utilize. Patting the large reptilian to show his appreciation before he latches the safety hooks onto his belt.

Kessa pulls up alongside him on a much smaller reptilian, while it resembled Arravox, this one had muted warm tones that blend it in better with the stone mountain side.

“Lets go” with those two words, she rides off ahead with him following suit.

At midday, they stop to eat under an overhang. She hands him a chunk of baked root wrapped in soft hide. He takes it without question, chewing slowly, not gagging this time.

“Getting better,” she says, watching.

“Still dry as gravel.”

“It’s protein gravel. Count your blessings.”

He grunts, still chewing though it’s easier now. Food is becoming a part of him again. So is this place. Parting to catch back up with the herd once they’ve eaten. The ride was silent all the way till the sun began to lower.

The herd sleeps lightly, clustered near the stone wall where runoff won’t pool if the rain starts early. Arravox lies farther off, tail tucked, humming a slow, low rhythm like a breathing song. Dorn sits near the fire pit, watching the wind pull through the vent grass. Kessa joins him, cloak drawn tight, dropping a few root peels into the burner to keep the smoke low and bitter—it wards off the smaller critters. They don’t speak right away; they’ve learned silence isn’t distance.

“Didn’t think you’d last here.” Kessa admits

“Didn’t think I would either.”

“But you did.”

“Not alone.”

That hangs there, not heavy, just true. Leaning back, arms crossed over her knees.

“Tomorrow’s the hard part. But it’s the real part too.”

He nods “Good. I’m tired of pretending to be dead.”

She doesn’t answer right away “You’re not. Not anymore.”

The fire cracks. Arravox hums again, softer this time. Under the stars hidden behind sulfur clouds, the two of them sit—quiet and alive, with the weight of the next day ahead of them, and a small, solid trust behind.