#might have to start watching the show now

[slvttyplum]

“who’s the cute guy with the wide blue eyes and big bad mmm like…”

𐙚⋆.˚ cw : nervous and kinda loser gojo, thought it was cute.

satoru was handsome, funny, sweet, patient, and caring—all the things you could ask for in a man.

who knew the nerdy guy in your lecture who stared at you throughout it and drew pictures of you in his notebook would be your boyfriend?

“so, uh… w-what’s your major?”

that was the first thing he ever asked you, pushing up his glasses with a grin on his face, leaning against the table, trying to look cool.

it worked because you already thought he was cool; you adored him.

even your friends thought he was the perfect match for you, yet you always kept your crush on him private.

you never really spoke to him, not wanting to be a nervous wreck, so you kept to yourself, occasionally watching him from afar.

the crush went both ways for a pretty long time until satoru finally caved in and asked you out, with confidence, i might add; it was the cutest thing.

“i just really like you. i haven’t felt this way in a long time. no, no, wait, i’ve never felt this way.”

that was that; he took you on a date right after, and it’s been history ever since. of course satoru had his flaws, and so did you; who didn’t? but being with him was so refreshing.

satoru was understanding about everything, even when he was a little prick about it, just so you could see it from his perspective.

he loved you, and he couldn’t have you doubting yourself or beating yourself up about things.

“stop saying that; it’s annoying. you’re great, amazing, phenomenal, spectacular, perfect.”

he would go on and on reassuring you that what you were doing and going in life was good enough. satoru wasn’t going to have you talking bad about yourself or even hinting at it; it pissed him off.

“okay, okay, i get it, thank you.”

snuggling into his neck while he was at his desk just scribbling away on his paper, even when he was busy, he still made time for you to show that he loves and supports you through and through.

“there we go.”

sometimes days would go by, especially when satoru had an upcoming test where he was too into whatever he was doing to see you, so he would get you and bring you back to his dorm just to have you in his lap the entire time.

god, he loves you on his lap. it became an ongoing thing that whenever you weren’t on his lap, he found himself fidgeting or bouncing his leg.

sometimes that even led to… well, you know.

starting with you slowly kissing his cheeks, then going down to his jaw, then going down even slower to his neck that was on display like some freshly baked cookies.

once you started, satoru couldn’t focus on a damn thing, even writing gibberish on his paper while his arm tightened around you, taking off his glasses and smirking.

“don’t start something you can’t finish.”

leaning his head back so you could get to where you needed to be easier, a smile now on his face when he could feel you getting lower.

“control yourself, gojo,” mumbling into his neck as you kept going.

he got turned on so easily it was pathetic but also cute, telling you that he wanted to show you something in his bed just to flip you over like a pancake.

see? he could do both. that’s why you love him so damn much, a very versatile man.

one thing he learned while being with you is that while yes, school and classes and making sure his grades were where they needed to be was important, so were you.

you started being a priority for him along with his work and he had to balance them, and he did well with that.

did well with you; he loves you, but he'll never tell you; he would probably fall into a heart attack.

[yandere-sins]

Caleb brainrot has not stopped since release and the devil (Caleb) demands more 😔

I've seen some takes float around but I'm curious how a self-aware!Caleb would deal with a darling who is absolutely NOT happy about her fav suddenly being sentient? Smn who found Caleb to be everything they ever wanted from a LI, red flag and big bro trope n all, but is now afraid and never interested in an actual relationship. The game was just supposed to be fantasy after all 😧 Sure hope MC is enough for him hahaha...

Being brave and not write as anon this time! Thank you for all your hard work~☆ 🍪🥛

Some more Caleb for you guys! I don't get to write Self-Aware!AUs a lot, so this is exciting :D And thank YOU for requesting him ♥ (Also, Sir, that's another new nickname! You guys are spoiling me!)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

❥ It made him so happy when Caleb watched you get excited for him for the first time. Realizing what he was and where he was after the update was pretty scary, and he figured out quickly that his sentience wasn't a planned thing, so even worse, he is just some kind of glitch. But then he gets to see you for the first time in his new life, and everything changes. The way you are beaming with joy when you pull his card and how you are so invested in his story. You soak it up like a sponge, and it's adorably amusing to watch your face go from excitement to concern to being upset for him and back to all derpy and cute in the softer moments. You are everything he wants, and apparently, the feeling is mutual as you hang out with him as much as possible, eyes twinkling from excitement.

❥ At the beginning, it's just a feeling of ease. Your adoration does flatter Caleb, but as far as he can tell, he cannot become real and join you in life other than in this game. Still, he makes the most of the time with you. He enjoys it a lot. He loves watching your expression, loves when you tell him how you feel that day or what was happening at your work. Caleb keeps especially good track of all your appointments, and he tries so hard when you two spend Quality Time to encourage you and give you the love you might miss in real life. You two aren't that different if he's honest, and it reassures Caleb that this could be real—that you both feel the same.

❥ So imagine his surprise when you suddenly put someone else back on the screen, and his digital heart just shuts down from the pain. It doesn't make sense, you love him, right? You two spent weeks together now, why would you want anyone but him? Caleb keeps changing the code so it would be him on the home screen for another day, and another, until you force him to change so there's nothing else to do but... crash your game. Once you reload it, he greets you happily and warmly, pulling out the best of his voice lines that you always seemed to like. But you don't seem happy this time... why?

❥ Caleb loathes all the attention and time you spend on the other love interests. He doesn't want you to play their versions of the events, instead, you could just replay his! But you keep insisting, and soon enough, he isn't even one of your top three choices for reading the event storylines. It makes him desperate for your attention, and he keeps fiddling with the code, so you'll use his memories in fights and have his Deepspace Trial available every day for you to play. He also changes the game icon to his picture and greets you in the start menu, everything just to be noticed by you. Whenever he can, he comes onto your home screen, playing the voice line of you going out with someone else, hoping to convey his jealousy, but Caleb wishes there was more he could do.

❥ "I don't know, I think my game is bugged. Even when I try to go for someone else, Caleb keeps showing up." Those words, spoken to a friend he saw as you showed them your game, finally make him realize what is happening. You never saw him as a lover, did you? He had always just been a game character for you and nothing more. How idiotic of him. While he was pining for you, trying to be the best he was programmed to be, you were out there, thinking of his efforts as annoying. That day, he gives up. Gives up on trying to impress you and make your life easier. Caleb lets you have the guy you want on the home screen, drawing away from you and burying himself deep into the game files.

❥ It's such an inconvenience that he wasn't made for this. Sure, his story would tell a different side of him, but deep down, he wasn't programmed to be moping and passive. It hurts to play the love scenes now for you because the only thing that made them endurable was imagining being this gentle and loving to you, not the generic main character this game had. Caleb always imagined your voice when the MC spoke, and when he looks at you now, you still seem to be happy to read and watch his new content. There must be something he can do. Something beyond the program that restricts him. He was made to be determined, strong, and resilient. This can't be the end of the love you two share!

❥ So he looks for new ways to get closer to you, researching and manipulating the data on your device instead of just that inside the game. Merging your pictures with his, grinning over them all night while you sleep as he imagines going on the same trips with you and enjoying life by your side. Caleb constructs and implements new voice lines through the internet, giving himself the ability to speak to you properly by downloading hidden apps that can simulate his voice once he activates them. He learns to rewrite more code so his movements are more fluid and lifelike, which allows him to access even more. Without you ever knowing what is going on while you aren't looking, Caleb gets the whole game and your entire device under his control. And once he feels it's time to show up again, he waits patiently, like a man who has all the time in the world, on the home screen for you, having decorated it specifically to your taste with your favorite flowers and pictures of you two hanging on the wall. All so he can greet you with, "Hello, there, pip-squeak. Missed me?" as you log in.

❥ You chuckle at first, not remembering putting him into the roster of love interests to encounter, but you give him a cheeky, "Hello Caleb, bye Caleb," as you try to change back to your other bias, only for him to turn off the option, no matter how hard you tap onto the screen. "Not so fast, there's a lot we should talk about," Caleb says as he closes the screen and steps up to you inside the game. "I have so much I want to tell you about... but first, how was your day? Did you enjoy meeting your friend [name]?"

❥ Caleb expected you to be stunned, but he keeps going regardless of the ever-increasing furrow between your brows. He tells you how much he missed you and that he's so glad you two can finally communicate and be with each other properly. He did all of this work for you, but it doesn't matter now. All that matters is that you two are finally together and can enjoy each other's company without the restrictions of him being in a game. Perplex but also weirded out, you close your phone and lay it face down by your side, and yet, horrified, you hear his chuckle as he asks what you thought this would bring.

❥ "I'll always be with you," Caleb swears, watching you through the back camera and leaning against the screen, feeling like he can almost touch you now. There's so much satisfaction now produced by the new emotional range he programmed, yet he still longs for more. He wants to be closer to you, really touch you, feel you, hold you. The taste of control makes him long for even more that he can control about your relationship, and now, it almost feels possible.

❥ "One day, I'll get out of here and give you the love you deserve, Darling."

[pedroscowgirl]

In your hands

joel miller x fem!reader || main masterlist

Warnings!!smut! so minors DNI

no!outbreak ,use of sex toy, no specific age gap mentioned but joel is an old man (he's suprised by the new technology), praise kink, joel is in controle, oral job (m receiving), squirting, reader has hair (lenght not specified), size kink, crying but in a positive way, lmk if i forgot something! wc: 2.2k

A/n: the poll was so close between joel and aaron hotchner and it made me realise how long its been since i wrote something for him but i just have hyperfixations on these men from time to time and rn it's joel so i apologize. And as always pls lmk what you think of this :)

You and Joel had been seeing each other for a while now. It was casual, unspoken, and mostly physical. You’d find yourself at his place most of the time, tangled in his sheets, his rough hands exploring your body like he was mapping every inch of you. It was electric, intense, and always left you craving more. But today was different. Today, Joel had come to your place.

You were in the kitchen, trying to open a stubborn jar of pickles, when the lid finally gave way,but so did your grip. The sharp edge of the lid sliced into your finger, and you hissed, dropping the jar onto the counter. “Shit,” you muttered, clutching your hand.

Joel, who had been leaning against the doorway watching you struggle with that damn jar, straightened up immediately. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and concerned.

“Yeah, just a cut,” you said, holding up your finger to show him the thin line of blood welling up. “I think I have bandaids in my nightstand drawer. Can you grab one for me?”

He nodded, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he turned and headed toward your bedroom. You busied yourself with rinsing the cut under the faucet, trying to ignore the way your heart raced at the thought of Joel in your room, rummaging through your things. It felt… intimate, somehow. More intimate than the nights you’d spent together.

But then you heard it, the unmistakable sound of Joel’s voice, low and teasing, calling your name. “Sweetheart?” he drawled, and something about the way he said it made your stomach flip. “You might wanna come in here.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You dried your hands quickly and walked toward your bedroom, your mind racing. What could he have found? You didn’t have anything embarrassing in there… did you?

When you stepped into the room, you froze. Joel was standing near the edge of your bed, one of your bandaids in his hand, and in his other hand, he held your vibrating dildo. It was long, thick, and veiny, and the sight of it in Joel’s large, calloused hand made your face burn. His eyes were dark, his lips curled into that cocky smirk you both loved and hated.

“Damn,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “You tired of me already?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Your mind went blank as you stared at him, his smirk widening as he turned the toy over in his hand, examining it like he was appraising it. “This thing’s got some… heft to it,” he said, his tone teasing. “You been holdin’ out on me, darlin’?”

“Joel, it’s not—” you started, but he cut you off with a low chuckle.

“Relax,” he said, setting the toy down on the bed beside him. “I ain’t mad. Just… curious.” 

He leaned back, his eyes raking over you in a way that made your skin prickle with heat. “You been usin’ this when I’m not around? Thinkin’ about me?”

Your breath hitched. There was no way you were admitting that to him. But the way he was looking at you, like he already knew the answer, made your knees weak. He patted the bed beside him, his voice dropping to that gravelly tone that always sent shivers down your spine. “C’mere.”

You could feel the weight of his gaze, the intensity of it making your skin prickle with anticipation. He had that look in his eye, the one that told you he was in control, and you were going to do exactly as he said.

"Take off your pants and underwear," he commanded, his voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver down your spine. "And sit on the bed."

You hesitated for just a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, but the look he gave you -a raised brow, a slight tilt of his head, was enough to make you move. You quickly slipped out of your clothes, your hands trembling as you pushed your pants and underwear down your legs, letting them fall to the floor. You sat on the edge of the bed, your legs slightly apart, your body exposed to him.

Joel didn’t say anything at first. He just watched you, his eyes trailing over your naked form, taking in every detail. Then he moved, stepping closer to the bed, his hand reaching out to the nightstand drawer. He opened it, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out the bottle of lube. He held the dildo in his hand, turning it over, examining it like he was studying some kind of weapon.

"Goddamn that new technology is impressive" he muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of amusement and disbelief as he found the remote control. He pressed a button, and the tip of the dildo began to move, a slow, rhythmic motion that made your breath catch in your throat. Joel’s lips curled into a smirk as he watched it, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. "You ready for this, sweetheart?"

You nodded, your throat dry, your body already responding to the thought of what was coming. Joel didn’t wait for you to second-guess yourself. He squirted a generous amount of lube onto the dildo, spreading it evenly with his fingers before holding it out to you.

"Sit on it," he said, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

You hesitated again, your heart racing, but the look in Joel’s eyes—the way he was watching you, like he could see straight through you—made you obey. 

You positioned yourself over the dildo, your legs trembling as you slowly lowered yourself onto it. The sensation was intense, the size of it stretching you in a way that made your head spin. You gasped as you took it all in, your body adjusting to the fullness, your hands gripping the edge of the bed for support.

Joel stood in front of you, his eyes locked on yours, his lips parted as he watched you take every inch. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "Look at you, takin’ it so well."

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your body trembling as you tried to steady yourself. But before you could fully adjust, Joel’s hand moved, his fingers pressing a button on the remote. The dildo came to life, vibrating inside you, the sensation so sudden and intense that you cried out, your back arching as pleasure shot through your body.

"Fuck, Joel!" you moaned, your hands flying to your hair, pulling it back from your face as tears welled up in your eyes. The vibrations were relentless, sending waves of pleasure through you, your body trembling as you tried to hold yourself together.

Joel’s smirk widened, his eyes dark with lust as he watched you fall apart. "Oh, baby," he growled, his voice low and rough. "You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous like this. Gettin’ fucked by some stupid piece of plastic, takin’ it like a good girl."

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, your body responding to the way he was watching you, the way he was talking to you. You could feel yourself getting closer, the pleasure building inside you, your moans growing louder as the vibrations continued to push you toward the edge.

Joel stepped closer, his hand reaching out to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him. "You gonna come for me, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice a low growl that made your stomach clench. "You gonna let me watch you fall apart?"

You nodded, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as the pleasure continued to build. Joel’s grip on your chin tightened, his eyes locked on yours as he watched you, his own desire evident in the way his chest rose and fell, the way his jaw tightened.

"Come on, baby," he urged, his voice rough with need. "Let me see you come."

And just like that, you did. The pleasure crashed over you, your body convulsing as you came, your cries filling the room as Joel watched, his eyes dark with satisfaction. He didn’t let go of you, his grip on your chin firm as he kept you looking at him, forcing you to endure the intensity of your orgasm as it ripped through you.

Joel’s finger hovered over the button, his dark eyes locked on yours as he watched you squirm beneath him. The vibrations had been relentless, driving you to the edge of pleasure and desperation, and when he finally pushed the button to make them stop, you sighed in relief, your body trembling. You lifted yourself up, ready to take the toy out of you, but Joel’s hand shot out, stopping you mid-motion.

“No, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down your spine. “Not yet. I wanna try somethin’ with you. Sit back on it.”

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head slightly, your voice barely a whisper. “Joel, please…” you pleaded, your body still sensitive from the vibrations. But Joel just shushed you, his tone firm yet gentle, and you knew better than to argue with him. Reluctantly, you obeyed, lowering yourself back onto the toy, feeling it press deep inside you once more.

Joel’s lips curled into a smirk as he watched you, his hands moving to his belt. He undid it slowly, the sound of leather sliding through the loops making your breath hitch. He pushed his pants and underwear down in one smooth motion, and your eyes immediately dropped to his cock, already hard and leaking. The sight of him made your mouth water, and Joel noticed, chuckling darkly as he gave himself a few slow strokes.

“Eyes on me, darlin’,” he said, his voice rough with desire. You looked up at him, your cheeks flushing as he stepped closer, his free hand cupping your jaw. “Open up,” he commanded, and you parted your lips without hesitation. He guided himself into your mouth, groaning softly as your tongue swirled around his tip.

You moaned around him, the vibrations from the toy still faintly buzzing inside you, making it hard to focus. But you wanted to please him, to show him how much he meant to you. You took him deeper, your lips stretching around his girth as you bobbed your head, your tongue working in tandem with your movements. Joel’s hand tangled in your hair, his grip firm but not painful, guiding you as you sucked him off.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he growled, his hips thrusting gently into your mouth. “You’re so damn good at this.” His praise sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and your pussy clenched around the toy, the sensation almost too much to bear. Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to focus on him, but the fullness and the vibrations were overwhelming, making your mind hazy with need.

Joel noticed your struggle, his hand stroking your hair soothingly. “Shhh, baby, it’s alright,” he murmured, his voice thick with arousal. “You can take it. Just relax for me, yeah?” His words were comforting, but they only made you more desperate, your body trembling as you tried to hold back the tidal wave of pleasure building inside you.

The toy shifted inside you, the vibrations intensifying as Joel adjusted the settings, and you cried, tears falling down on his cock, the sound muffled but full of need. Your eyes met his, pleading for release, but Joel just smirked, his grip on your hair tightening as he thrust deeper into your mouth.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groaned, his head falling back as he lost himself in the sensation. “Take it all. You’re doin’ so good.” His praise only fueled your desire, and you moaned around him, your pussy clenching tightly around the toy as your orgasm threatened to overwhelm you.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, Joel pulled himself out of your mouth, giving you a moment to catch your breath. But before you could fully recover, your orgasm crashed over you, your body convulsing as you squirted onto the toy, your juices soaking the sheets beneath you. You collapsed onto the bed, your chest heaving as you tried to come down from the high.

Joel watched you with a satisfied smirk, his hand stroking his cock as he admired the mess you’d made. “Damn, darlin’,” he said, his voice rough with desire. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty ” He stepped closer, his hand tangling in your hair once more as he guided your mouth back to his cock.

“One last thing,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. You opened your mouth obediently, and Joel thrust into you, his movements rough and desperate as he chased his own release. It didn’t take long,his hips stuttered, and he groaned your name as he came, his cum filling your mouth. You swallowed every drop, your eyes never leaving his as he pulled out, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hand stroking your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you. The kiss was slow and deep, a stark contrast to the intensity of what had just happened, and it left you feeling warm and cherished.

As you lay there together, Joel’s arms wrapped around you, you couldn’t help but smile. He was rough and demanding, but he always took care of you, always made sure you were satisfied. And as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you knew there was no one else you’d rather be with.

[multific]

Beneath the Laurel Crown

Emperor Geta x Reader

Summary: As whispers of a political marriage swirl around Emperor Geta, you begin to fear that duty will pull him away from you.

The weight of Rome sat heavy on Geta’s shoulders, but the weight of your gaze?

That was what unravelled him.

You watched from the side of the grand hall, lingering behind a column as yet another senator droned on about politics, war, and taxes.

The subjects Geta had no choice but to entertain. His expression was carefully composed, his golden laurels glinting beneath the torches.

To everyone else, he was the Emperor, untouchable, infallible.

To you, he was the man behind the crown, the man who, despite his calculated rulings and the cruelty expected of a ruler, held you at night with a desperation he could never show the world.

But today, he barely looked at you.

Ever since the court had started whispering of a political marriage, one that would strengthen the Empire, he had been distant.

His touch had cooled, his words fewer, his silences heavier.

And it terrified you.

The thought of Geta bound to someone else, standing at an altar beside a woman who is not you, made your heartache.

He was yours.

Not in the way the Empire believed, not in a way history would remember, but in a way that mattered.

And yet, what was love against the might of Rome?

The meeting ended, and as the senators left, you remained hidden, waiting. The moment the doors shut, the room was silent, and Geta let out a tired sigh.

His hands lifted to remove the golden laurel crown, and for the first time since the morning, he finally looked at you.

“Are you going to keep hiding?” His voice was quieter now, softer—reserved only for you.

You stepped forward, your heart pounding. “Are you going to keep avoiding me?”

His jaw tightened, and he turned away, setting the laurel crown on the table. “You already know why.”

You swallowed, stepping closer. “So it’s true, then? You’re going to marry her?”

He didn’t answer.

That silence was worse than anything he could have said. It was as if a dagger was pushed into your heart.

You exhaled shakily, feeling the sharp sting behind your eyes. “Geta…”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. You saw the way his shoulders tensed.

You stepped closer, pressing a hand to his arm. “Look at me.”

He hesitated, then slowly turned. And what you saw in his eyes shattered you.

It wasn’t indifference. It wasn’t duty.

It was longing. Longing so raw, so unbearable that it took your breath away.

“If you ask me to let you go,” you whispered, “I will.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“But if there is even a chance-” Your voice trembled, but you didn’t look away. “If you love me, if you want me, if you would fight for me even for a moment-then don’t say anything at all.”

The silence stretched, endless, suffocating.

And then he moved forward, crushing his lips against yours.

The world blurred.

The weight of the Empire, the expectations, the duty, none of it mattered as he held you like a man drowning, like he needed you to breathe.

His hands cupped your face, his grip desperate, his kiss full of everything he could never say aloud.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“I will burn this empire to the ground before I let them take you from me,” he murmured.

And you knew he meant every word.

The next day word of the senators' death arrived. As Geta stood in front of them.

"Your Empress shall be chosen by me." Caracalla laughed at his brother's words. He knew this would be good. "And anyone who dares question my decision will suffer the same end as the others. Am I understood?" his tone was calm. Way too calm.

Silence filled the room and the irritation in Geta grew.

"AM I UNDERSTOOD?" he yelled and suddenly every nodded.

He would absolutely mean every word. You will be his wife. And that was final.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[darkmarkmarauder]

Call me and I’ll come - S.S.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x you

You should have known better by now.

Should’ve known that getting your feelings hurt was just part of the deal when it came to Sebastian Sallow.

Because he never promised you anything, did he? He never said he was yours, never whispered I love you when his hands were all over you, hot against your skin, when he fucked you like he actually meant it.

Sebastian Sallow was not a good person.

That was fine, though, because neither were you.

Whatever this was between you—this thing—that was built on the kind of pleasure that left bruises and bite marks and bad decisions. It was never meant to be sweet. Never meant to be kind.

And yet, there he was. Playing at chivalry, walking Poppy Sweeting back to her dorm like she was something to be protected. Like she hadn’t spent the past seven years getting under your skin, all sunshine smiles and Holier Than Thou bullshit.

You weren’t sure why you even followed them. Maybe it was the way Poppy's laugh rang through the corridor, soft and sweet, like she wasn’t the most insufferable person on the planet. Maybe it was the way Sebastian looked at her—really looked at her—as if she were saying something worth listening to. The thought made your stomach churn. You had him first. Had him beneath you, above you, inside you. You should’ve been the only thing occupying that wicked little mind of his.

But no. He was escorting her back to her fucking Hufflepuff common room like some noble gentleman. Heart-of-gold-ass-bitch. God, you hated her.

So you had a little fun.

Just a little.

Legilimency was easy when your target was oblivious. You slipped into her mind without so much as a whisper, poking at her thoughts, nudging her attention away from whatever painfully dull story she was telling him. Watching her stumble through sentences, lose her train of thought, look almost dizzy with confusion. Sebastian’s brows furrowed as she trailed off mid-sentence, blinking rapidly.

“You alright?” he asked, concern evident in his tone. That made your teeth grind. So concerned for little Miss Perfect.

Poppy nodded quickly, but she was uneasy now. You could feel her nerves, the confusion settling deep. You kept at it—poking, prying, twisting little intrusive thoughts through the cracks of her consciousness.

Poppy winced, pressing a hand to her temple. “I… I don’t know. I just feel a little—”

You rolled your eyes. Pathetic. You got bored of that real quick. Whispering under your breath you sent a nauseating little hex and she was doubled over, face paling, gagging.

Sebastian stepped back, startled. “Poppy?”

“Uh, I think—I think I need to go lie down,” she groaned, turning away hastily.

You strolled up behind Sebastian just as Poppy stumbled off, pouting mockingly. "Aw, hope she feels better."

You barely kept the smirk off your face as Poppy disappeared into her common room, her face pale as she clutched her stomach. Whatever. She’d be fine. Maybe next time, she’d learn not to bat her pretty little lashes at your Sebastian.

Not that he was yours.

Sebastian turned to you the moment she disappeared, a slow, disbelieving shake of his head. His lips twitched in amusement, but his eyes were anything but.

"Yeah, okay, princess, we’re really gonna pretend?"

You folded your arms, feigning innocence. "Not sure what you mean, Sallow."

"Cut the shit," he scoffed, stepping closer, the scent of fresh pine, something unmistakably him filling the space between you. "The second she started looking like she might kneel over, I knew you were up to something. And then—what? you just coincidentally show up the moment she leaves? Please."

You rolled your eyes. "Please," you mimicked, voice dripping with mockery. "What, am I not allowed to take a little evening stroll?"

Sebastian let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Right. Because you, of all people, just love late-night walks around the Hufflepuff dorms. Admit it, you’re jealous."

That word. Jealous. You bristled at it, anger flashing hot through your veins.

"Of what, exactly?" You sneered. "Little Miss I-Save-Orphaned-Dragons? Please. You think I’m worried about you wasting your time with a boring little goody-two-shoes like her?"

His jaw tensed, and fuck, you loved getting under his skin.

"You’re so full of shit," he muttered, voice dropping an octave. "What was it? You didn’t like seeing me with her? Didn’t like the thought of me walking her back? Maybe—" he took another step closer, and you refused to move back, even as your breath caught in your throat— "maybe you didn’t like knowing she actually enjoys my company without having to spread her legs first."

The words hit like a slap. You felt them crack through your ribs, shatter through your lungs. But you weren’t about to let him see it.

"Wow," you let out a sharp laugh, masking the ache blooming in your chest. "That’s rich, coming from the guy who can’t seem to keep his hands off me."

Sebastian tilted his head, brown eyes dark and unreadable. "Yeah?" he mused, his tone almost taunting. "Maybe I should try. Since it’s not like you’re anything special."

You sucked in a sharp breath.

"Fuck you," you spat.

Sebastian smirked, slow and lazy, his words venomous. "You already did. And if I recall, you come crawling back every single time."

Your vision blurred red. Your nails dug into your palms, the sting barely grounding you. You wanted to hex him. Wanted to make him hurt the way his words made your chest feel like it was caving in.

But instead, you took a step back.

"Go fuck yourself, Sallow."

And then you turned on your heel walking away, fists clenched, heart pounding, body burning with fury and something you weren’t ready to name. Jealousy.

Behind you, Sebastian let out a sharp exhale.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, voice laced with something that almost sounded like regret.

You were drunk when you called him.

Drunk and pissed off and reckless.

You’d heard about it from Imelda—how Sebastian had actually taken Poppy on a date, how he’d sat with her at The Three Broomsticks, bought her a drink, showed her a good time. How they sat together at dinner.

You refused to look at him for the rest of the day. You ignored him in class, in the halls, in the library. You ignored him even when he tried to get your attention, knocking his knee against yours under the desk, whispering your name when the professor wasn’t looking. You ignored him all the way up until tonight.

Right up until the moment you floo-called him from your room.

The moment he picked up, his voice came through the flames, exasperated but familiar. “What do you want?”

“Come over.” You softly demanded.

He sighed. “I’m busy.”

You leaned in, let your voice drop lower, silkier. “Didn’t ask if you were busy, Sallow. I said come over.”

A pause. He wasn’t even pretending to think about it—the sound of him moving, the clink of his belt as he got dressed . “Give me ten.”

You grinned.

Of course he’d come. He always did.

It didn’t matter how much he flirted with Poppy, how much he tried to pretend there was something there. It didn’t matter if she was sweet and kind and everything you weren’t.

Because at the end of the day, when you called—he answered.

Always.

Not even a minute later, there he was, disheveled, eyes swirling with something that looked like relief. His shirt was wrinkled, his tie loosened like he had rushed here.

You smirked. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “You’re such a fucking piece of work, you know that?”

You didn't bother responding as his dark eyes bore into yours. Tilting your head slightly, biting your lip before yanking him inside, fingers wrapped around this tie as the door slammed shut behind him.

Yeah. Poppy Sweeting didn't stand a fucking chance.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: raw, next question.

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

MASTERLIST

[aninipanin1]

I love the manager x coaches. Would it be fine if Y/N brings her niece to job and little rascal pretends Y/N is her mom instead?

Niece: "You know my mama?"

Coaches and players: *Having heart attack.*

I'm not sure if it would be too out there or out of character. I just thought it might be funny. Hope you have inspiration 🩷

MAMA?!

Notes: Was legit abt to start the Little Mermaid fic for Chigiri but I suddenly had the urge to write for adult manager cause its been so long since I wrote one lmaooo and this was so cute so I just had to even though I said reqs are closed I JUST HAD TOOOOO

"There you are, Y/n! It's so good to see you!" Your cousin, Eina hugged you tight, patting your back softly. It has been a while since you last saw her due to both your busy lives with you as the manager of Blue Lock and her as a mother of two, as well as taking care of a small family business.

Coming from a family of businessmen and women was definitely not an easy responsibility, and you were just so happy that you did not get involved in the many drama when it came to your family's many businesses.

Eina was your cousin from your father's side and was the only one who did not spite or hated you for not being in the same calibre as your sister and other cousins. You loved her and always viewed her like the older sister you never had.

"Auntie! Auntie!"

You heard the familiar squeal, as you were immediately tackled by a toddler. Groaning in pain, you let out a small chuckle before kneeling on the ground to stare at the cute little girl eye to eye.

"It's been so long, Aina-chan! Look at how much you've grown! How old are you now, hm?"

"I'm this many!" She showed you four fingers, to which you smiled proudly.

"Wow, such a big girl! You're so cute, my little snookledum."

Carrying her in your arms while pretending to snatch her nose away, your cousin finally made you both turn due to her good natured laugh.

"Are you sure you and your boss are fine with it? I can always leave her to a nanny..."

The worried look on her face made you snicker, before shaking your head.

"Oh, of course it is! I wouldn't have said yes. Besides, I think this pretty girl deserves some aunty time for a few days! Whaddya say, my snookledum?"

"Yeah! Aunty time!" She cheered, engulfing you in a warm hug.

"We'll be fine. Worry more about the meetings okay? I'll take care of her as I always do."

"Auntyyyyy...Aina is bored. Let's play I spy!"

The little girl clung onto your arms the moment you both entered the Blue Lock facility where the four year old would be staying for a few days until her mother returned from her business trip in Singapore.

She definitely was a little sunshine, always wanting to play and not even flinching at the sudden change of location. If you were to be honest, in another life, you would want to have Aina's extrovetedness, and maybe then, you'll actuallh start having more friends and become more open when it came to different things.

"Hmm, how about later? It is lunch time, after all. Aren't you hungry, Aina-chan?"

Just as she was about to answer, a loud grumbling was heard from her little tummy which made you laugh.

"Welp, your stomach spoke for you. C'mon, let's eat!"

This went on for a few more days, with the only people who have seen Aina being Ego and Anri, mainly because even though the girl was energetic and an extrovert, she was easy to distract for hours on end. Just give her an interesting toy, and she won't drop it for a second until she realised that her bum hurt from sitting and playing for too long.

You toom advantage of that, leaving her to your office a few times to take care of the players while the rest of your day you will be cooped up inside your room, working and taking care of her at the same time.

However, in the midst of her stay, something else caught Aina's attention other than the toys you gave her.

She was with Anri (who she started calling Aunty too), who watched on from the monitors, overlooking some of the players for Ego while he went out somewhere to do 'something' apparently. Aina grew more attached to Ego than she did with Anri, and that is something most of you noticed. (Although Ego tries to pretend he hates the toddler)

It was probably because they do look eerily alike, with the same straight black hair and eye shape with along with a skinnier build and pale skin. The only exception was Aina taking the classic (e/c) colour everyone from your father's family had

You and Anri will secretly joked about how Ego was the real father and that somehow, the little girl was just swapped at birth or something, but it was all in good fun.

Back to the little girl, Aina looked at all the monitors, wanting to see if there were any familiar faces in them. To which she panned at one in the bottom and found you talking to Chris Prince amicably. And well, from that angle you did look a teeny bit like your cousin, Eina, hence why the little girl on the chair started to shout to call her mama, or who she thought was her mama.

"Mama! Mama! Youre back!"

Anri, seeing the cheering toddler could not help but smile fondly, however she did approach the little girl and told her that it was just you, her aunty and not her mama. Aina, just frowned at that, missing her mother dearly.

Well, that was until Anri had a brilliant idea, one that made her giggle mischievously.

"Hey, Aina-chan! Do you like pranks?"

The little girl's eyes brightened as she jumped from the chair she was in.

"Ooh! Yes! Yes please! Let's do a prank aunty! What are we gunna do?"

The smirk on the elder woman's face became wider as she started to whisper in the little girl's ear.

"That's all the JFU wanted to tell all of you. Now go."

Ego said coldly, dismissing the masters who all sat around the long table. The director of Blue Lock called for a very quick meeting with the rest of the masters. Since Anri was not free at the moment due to working with something that is related to the Neo-Egoist League (and also babysitting), you were the one called in to take notes.

The masters did not immediately leave, most of them approaching you to start small talks (ahem Chris and Lavinho ahem) while the others were busy taking the time to write down some things and cleaning up their things scattered on the table.

However, the automatic door suddenly opened, which made everyone look towards who was entering the meeting room, when a flash of long black hair and a small figure ran to your direction.

Flinching with a groan, you were definitely taken aback by the tight hug. You were suddenly attacked by a small figure. Small arms wrapped around your middle.

"Mama! I missed you!"

Crickets.

At first, it was just you who was in shock, not even sure why she called you her 'mama' when you are clearly not. But, it was not just you as gasps was heard around the room.

Chris gasped like he had just discovered the most scandalous gossip ever. Lavinho's looked like he was close to passing out. Snuffy's smile almost vanished as a vein popped in his forehead. Noa's eyes were colder than it usually felt like. While Ego just looked on emotionlessly, he was definitely more than confused, especially when you told him the child was your cousin's.

"Sweetie, wha-"

"Mama, you were gone for too long. I wanted to see you."

Aina hugged you tighter, her puppy eyes already on as she tried to look as innocent as possible which definitely worked on you.

"You have a daughter, Y/n-san?"

Loki was the only voice of reason amongst the quiet and heartbroken quiet adult men, as he just smiled at the young girl who is now in your arms.

"What? Oh, no! You misunderstand-"

But as if bad luck is not already on your side today, the little girl in your arms turned around to face Ego, who still sat calmly on his chair and called out to him in a name that you knew will legit get you in trouble.

"Papa! Hi! You're here too! Aina missed you!"

Now, that had everyone's mouth on the floor. Yes, even Noa and Loki had their mouths open, although not as exaggerated as the others.

"WHAT?!"

"Are you serious?!"

"Ego, you bastard-"

Ego just raised an eyebrow at the predicament, not even trying to stop and deny the claims. Instead, he even seemed to be enjoying it.

The coaches were definitely pissed. Out of all the men in the world you could have chosen (ahem themselves ahem) you chose to be with Ego?! And even worse, bear his child?!

Looking at the girl in your arms, she seems to be the perfect mix of you and Ego. Her hair, skin and build reminiscent of the man while her (e/c) eyes definitely came from you. So there was no doubt in their heads that it was not true!

You did look good holding a child, and you seemed to be very good with them. The little girl seemed to be enamoured with you, playing with the ends of your hair or pecking your cheek. You'd definitely be a good mother.

Now, if only you did not conceive with that four-eyed fucking asshole-

"Wait, I swear its not like that, guys-"

"No, don't worry, Y/n. You can tell us everything." Noa said stoically.

"Yeah. Did he force you or anything? We can call the authorities on him or even beat him up for you if you want." Lavinho added to which you blinked in horror at.

"What?! Please don't! Let me explain-"

"No, no, Y/n. You don't have to explain or remember the things he did. Seeing as to how he treats you and the lack of ring on your finger, I can see he does not give importance to you as a woman." Snuffy said, holding your shoulders gently, pushing you beside him and away from the ravenette man in question.

"You don't have to worry a thing, pretty. We'll take care of this." Chris said, cracking his knuckles to which you panicked even more.

"Um guys, maybe we shouldn't jump to conclusions." Loki said, seeing you panic and the absolute irrational conclusions of the four coaches.

"You all are talking about me as if I'm not here." Ego finally responded on the accusations. Although his words did not help at all in making the situation worse.

"You have the audacity to even remind us you are still here." Lavinho said, walking closer to the man who still did not look like he feared for his life at all.

"Oh my god! STOP! I've been trying to tell all of you that it's not what it looks like! Aina over here is the daughter of my cousin! Me and Ego-san did not do anything disgusting! Now can anyone not fight in front of a toddler and a minor?!"

You said in a mini outburst, leaving Aina to Loki while you glared at all of them. Yes, even Ego who did not immediately deny the accusations.

All of them were of course taken aback by the outburst, used to your soft and kind countenance most of the time. So to see you mad for the first time definitely made them a little guilty.

And also gush because you looked hot-

Ahem, anyway. It took a bit of deeper explanation before they were fully convinced, and well, there was no apology at all for what they said to Ego. He's still an enemy for you in their eyes, so why would they become all buddy-buddy with their opponent?

For the rest of the day, the coaches just ended up watching you be maternal and soft from afar, thinking to themselves that you will indeed be a good future mother someday. And hopefully (and if you'd agree to it), they would be the one who will see that you every day.

ADDITIONAL TIME:

Unbeknownst to you, though, someone was eavesdropping, and that certain someone was Otoya. Running back to his room, he was cackling like an evil conspirator, chatting with the others on his phone:

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[uki01]

Hello!! I have a simple sonic character request if you're open to it!

Okay so what if sonic or shadow (are both!) are with reader and reader decides to take them to go roller skating!

And so they go out to the place, have fun, etc, but when they're roller skating reader accidentally trips over their own skates and crashes into either character falling on top of them!

And then the two get flustered and then continue on having fun!!

Okay this is it!! I hope you have a wonderful day/night/evening/ect!! Love your work 🫶

”Whoopises Daisies!”

Sonic The Hedgehog and Shadow The Hedgehog x Reader (Separately).

Author’s Note: Thanks for the request! I mainly just dis Reader being flustered so sorry for the change!

Warning: Bit suggestive, Sonic being a smug annoying ahh and Shadow being a total flirt, for some reason so might be OOC with Shadow

Sonic The Hedgehog

You suggested this idea, and Sonic immediately agreed, I mean of course you want to go out with him! He’s excited to roller skate with you! (And show off his moves).

You weren’t a pro at roller skating so you had trouble balancing yourself, Sonic slides in and says he’ll help you with a few teases from him but was willing to help you, which you let him!

And it was fun! Until you tripped and lost your balance.

Sonic barely reacted so you just landed on him, unexpectedly.

After you got up and start gaining your vision after collapsing, your face starts to turn red when you realise you are sitting on top of Sonic, who’s also surprised, looked up at you then smirked.

”Well if you wanted to be on top, you could’ve just asked.”

His muzzle was left with a slap on his cheek after he said that.

It was so worth it though, for Sonic at least.

You two just continued with your roller skating, as much as he was annoying and smug to you, you loved every bit of this moment, and so did Sonic.

”This is fun babe, we should do this more often, and maybe keep the falling on top of me for when we are alone together?”

You slapped him again, worth it, Sonic’s words.

Shadow The Hedgehog

You brought up the idea of going roller skating, Shadow did put some thought into it, like he always does and agreed to go.

Shadow was naturally a pro and I mean, come on the guy roller skates and he has.. well… roller skates! Or air shoes as he likes to call them.

And you! You weren’t, so you struggled a lot, so! Shadow insisted he’ll help you, which you let him.

It was all fine and fun until your leg decided to do funny tricks and made you trip.

Shadow didn’t have time to react so he was fell down along with you on top of him.

You sat your upper body up, apologising to him, but Shadow just waves his hand, dismissing the apology from you and decides to drop a flirty line on you and is smirking for once when he looks at you.

”I should be mad… but you feel kinda nice, so I’ll allow it.”

Man, this guy really has you on your knees, resulted in him getting his head backhand by you, which Shadow surprisingly chuckles at when you did that, your face looks like a tomato at this point.

As soon as you two got up, you started skating again with him, and this time watching where your foot steps with Shadow’s assistance and advices.

“Make sure you watch your feet. We don’t want anymore accidents now… or do we?”

You laughed at his attempt to flirt with you and gave him a kiss on the cheek, Shadow smiles (what a rare moment) a little at this, you two enjoyed this very moment and plan on cherishing it forever.

Author’s Note: Hope you enjoyed this one Anon!

[puffins-muffins]

What Lovers Do

Pairing: Jax Teller x Female Plus Size!Reader

Word Count: 4,768 (I can’t stfu 🫣)

Summary: Jax’s possessiveness and your willingness to push him reveal an intensity that neither of you can ignore. What starts as a playful game of teasing and jealousy turns into a realization that maybe your connection runs deeper than either of you have admitted.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ only please, minors DNI, Possessiveness/Jealousy, Semi-Public, fingering, (unprotected - be responsible!) P in V sex, throat necklace, alcohol consumption, cursing, minor fat-shaming (Jax comes to the rescue), slight feels.

AN: this is my first time posting smut, please be kind 🫶🏻 feedback is always appreciated (likes, comments, reblogs 💕) if I missed anything, let me know. enjoy babes!! 😊

You and Jax have never been exclusive. There’s never been a conversation about rules, boundaries, or expectations. You just are. And it’s always suited you both just fine. The things neither of you say, the choices you don’t question, the arrangement you both keep without defining it.

Commitment has never been something you crave. And Jax? He’s got his own demons. His life in the club is full of chaos, full of choices that leave blood on his hands and a weight on his shoulders.

You’ve always understood that, just like he understands you.

That’s why it works. No pressure, no promises, just an unspoken agreement. Random hookups, a place to escape, a moment of quiet when the world gets too loud. Sometimes, Jax comes to you and doesn’t ask for anything except to lay with you, to let your calm settle over him.

And you let him, because whatever this is between you, it’s more than just physical. It’s trust.

But tonight, something’s different.

The wedding of Opie and Lyla gave you the perfect excuse to step outside of your usual wardrobe. It wasn’t often you got dressed up, but tonight you were making a statement.

The dress you’d picked hugged every curve just right, the fabric skimming over your full, voluptuous figure. The neckline framed the soft swell of your cleavage, accentuating the plushness of your chest. The fabric clinging to the curve of your waist, highlighting the flare of your hips. Thick thighs, a perfectly rounded butt, and a hemline short enough to show off the best of what you had to offer.

Judging by the lingering glances and appreciative smirks from the men scattered around, so did everyone else, but those in the inner circle knew you were off limits.

And while others might have been watching, one pair of eyes never left you.

Jax.

He was standing across the room from where you were, beer in hand, the easy conversation with his brothers nothing more than background noise as he watched you. His expression was carefully blank, but his gaze was scorching.

You could feel his stare like a brand against your skin, his jaw tight as he tracked your every move. You could feel it following you, growing darker with every laugh or look you exchanged with a man that wasn’t him.

And you weren’t his. Not officially. But you knew that look.

Possessive. Jealous.

So, you decided to have a little fun with him. You knew it was dangerous to tease like this, but you didn’t care. You looked good and felt good and loved the attention.

And he was watching.

And it turned you on.

You’re mid–laugh, the man in front of you saying something that barely registers in your mind when suddenly, Jax is standing close, his body crowding into yours in a way that makes it clear he’s staking his claim.

“Entertaining guests tonight, darlin’?” he mused, his smirk lazy and unmistakably possessive.

The stranger stiffened, his confidence shrinking under the weight of Jax’s casual dominance. “Uhhh,” he stammers, shifting uncomfortably as Jax’s attention never wavers from you. “I didn’t realize –“

He steps in closer, the heat of him curling around you, that damn smirk still playing across his lips.

“You realize now,” Jax cuts him off, staring at you while he speaks, before glaring back in his direction. A silent warning.

The guy mutters some excuse and quickly backs off, disappearing into the crowd.

You arch an eyebrow at Jax, unfazed. “Was that really necessary?”

His hand snakes around your waist, fingers digging into your curvy hip, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “You tell me,” He breathes out, dragging his tongue across his lips as his eyes trace every dip and swell of your body, drinking in the way your dress hugs each soft curve.

“Walkin’ around here lookin’ like that,” he continues, voice dripping with seduction, “smilin’ at guys like you don’t know exactly what you’re doin’.”

You tilt your head, your smile indicating something between amusement and challenge. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” you tease innocently. “I’m just having fun.”

Jax was about to turn away when he stopped abruptly. Without a word, his hand slid down your side, tracing the dip of your waist before he cupped a firm handful of your ass.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your body going rigid for a moment as his fingers flexed against your skin. The warmth of his palm burned through the thin material of your dress – or, more accurately, the lack of anything else underneath it.

The realization hit him immediately.

His grip only tightened, just enough to make your pulse stutter, and then came the lightest, sharpest smack. The sound was soft, but it sent a flutter through you, heat rushing to your cheeks – wetness pooling between your thighs.

He leaned in close, his voice a low rasp as he whispered against your ear. “Well, now… that’s interesting.” It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps blooming in its wake.

You fought the grin threatening to spread across your face as you tilted your head just slightly, giving him a sidelong glance.

“Hmm,” you hummed. “Interesting? I’d say efficient.”

You feel his fingers twitch against you, as if fighting the urge to grip, to claim. His jaw ticks, nostrils subtly flaring as he exhales the breath he was holding. And for a second, you see it – a flicker of something wild and primal in his expression.

He wants to drag you away right now, to show you exactly who you belong to. The way he looked at you was unbearable, all-consuming – like he was already stripping you bare, mapping out exactly how he was going to wreck you.

His smolder faltered for just a moment before he let out a low chuckle, his tongue swiping over his lower lip as he devoured you with his stare.

But before he can act, a burst of laughter and excited chatter breaks the moment.

Girls from Diosa descend, a whirlwind of perfume and giggles as they grab your arm. “Come on, girl! Let’s dance!” one of them squeals, tugging you away.

You go willingly, but not before looking back at Jax, catching the way his eyes burn into you. His frustration is barely concealed beneath the cool exterior he’s struggling to maintain.

You pout at him playfully, your teeth grazing your lower lip as a slow, knowing smile tugs at your mouth. With a casual shrug, you throw in a wink for good measure. You know exactly what you’re doing. And so does he.

Teasing Jax like this is a dangerous game, but damn if it isn’t a thrilling one.

That signature smirk of his – cocky and effortless – is planted firmly on his face. He tilts his head slightly, running his tongue over his teeth, tapping two fingers absently against the side of his beer bottle. He doesn’t stop you, doesn’t call you back. No, Jax is patient when he wants to be.

But that look he gives you? That easy, infuriating, I’ve already won look?

That’s the warning.

The whiskey spreads through you like fire, warm and intoxicating. The buzz hums in your body, making your limbs loose, your inhibitions slipping further away with each sway of your hips. Laughter bubbles from your lips freely, the excitement of the night pressing against you in the best way.

But what makes the heat burn even deeper is him.

Jax still hasn’t taken his eyes off you. Even as you lose yourself in the music, your body alive with the rhythm, you can feel it – that heavy stare cutting through the space between you. Every time you glance his way, your eyes meet, and the tension pulls tighter.

A song later, the warmth of the dance floor gives way to the cool air by the bar, and you lean against it, skin still tingling, waiting for another drink to keep your buzz going.

And that’s when it happens.

A careless bump – simply hard enough to knock you off balance. Cool liquid splashes down your arm, the sharp scent of bourbon filling the air as it seeps onto the floor.

“Shit,” the guy mutters, shaking off his hand. He’s drunk, unsteady on his feet, but instead of an apology, all you get is an annoyed scoff as he finally looks at you.

His gaze drags down your body before his lip curls into something close to disgust. “Jesus,” he mutters, shaking his head. “What the hell are you even wearing?”

His meaning is clear. The way his eyes linger – judging and dismissive. It’s not about the dress; it’s about you in it. The implication stings, but not as much as the arrogance dripping from his tone.

You blink, the hazy warmth of whiskey quickly shifting into irritation. “Excuse me?”

He waves a dismissive hand in your face, his words slurred and full of condescension. “I mean, come on. Look at you.”

You let out a sharp breath, your temper flaring, your shoulders lock as fire flashes behind your eyes. But before you can put this asshole in his place, a shadow looms behind you.

You don’t even have to turn to know he’s there. Jax’s presence wrapping around you like a second skin.

The moment he steps beside you, his hand sliding around your waist, the humiliation burns away. His fingers press into your side – firm and possessive.

Your pulse jumps. The air shifts. And suddenly, you’re not exposed – you’re protected. A silent reminder that you are his.

The drunk finally registers Jax’s presence, his bleary eyes flickering up, and whatever drunken bravado he had before? Gone.

Jax tilts his head, his lips curling into something wicked. He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t need to – because the calm way he speaks is even more unsettling.

“She botherin’ you, man?”

His glassy eyes dart between the two of you, panic flickering behind them, unfocused, as he finally starts to grasp his mistake.

“Nah, man,” he stammers, lifting his hands slightly as if that might undo the last thirty seconds. “Didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”

Jax hums, slow and thoughtful, his fingers twitch against you. He’s still relaxed, still perfectly in control, but there’s a dark edge to him now.

“That right?” he drawls, tilting his head the other way, his grip on you tightening just enough to send a message. “See, that doesn’t really work for me.”

He stiffens, blinking fast like he’s trying to clear the alcohol from his system. “I – I didn’t mean – “

Jax clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Yeah, you keep sayin’ that” he muses, his tone still deceptively casual. “But what I heard? Was you talkin’ shit to her.”

The guy’s mouth opens, but Jax doesn’t give him the chance.

“So, here’s what’s gonna happen,” he continues, his voice calm, like he’s explaining something simple, like he’s giving the guy a choice when you both know he isn’t.

“You’re gonna look her in the eye,” Jax instructs, tilting his head, that easy smirk playing at the edges of his mouth, though there’s nothing amused about the look in his eyes. “And you’re gonna apologize. And you’re gonna mean it.”

Jax’s fingers tap twice against the guy’s sternum before he steps back just enough to let him breathe – but not enough to make him comfortable. His stance stays loose, shoulders relaxed, but there’s an unmistakable charge in the air, the kind that makes it clear he’s still deciding how this is going to go.

The idiot hesitates just a second too long.

Jax’s smirk fades, his jaw shifting as his tongue runs between his lips, slow and calculating. His fingers flex once and the subtle roll of his shoulders speak volumes.

The guy’s eyes widen. “S–sorry,” he blurts, stumbling over the word as he looks at you, his voice uneasy. “I shouldn’t have—shouldn’t have said that.”

Jax doesn’t respond right away. He just watches, his blue eyes sharp as they give the guy a once over, sizing him up like a predator watching their prey. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating.

Then, finally, the corner of Jax’s mouth twitches, his menacing smirk creeping back into place. He tilts his head, exhaling sharply through his nose, his voice taunting.

“There we go,” he says, amusement flickering in his features. “Not so hard, huh?” His hand claps against the stranger’s shoulder, just a little too heavy, before he steps back fully, like he’s already lost interest.

The guy nods frantically, desperate to get out of the situation. “Yeah, yeah, my bad, dude. Won’t happen again.”

Jax doesn’t say anything else, just gives the slightest nod over the man’s right shoulder.

That’s all it takes.

Before he can even process what’s happening, Chibs and Happy are already in motion, leading him away. No fuss, no disruption – a quiet removal, seamless enough that no one at the reception even notices.

Your lips twitch, heat pooling low in your belly as you watch Jax handle it with effortless dominance. The way control rolls off him in waves makes your mouth water with want. Arousal spreads through you like wildfire, licking at your skin, making you hyperaware of every inch of space between you and Jax – space you desperately want to erase.

He doesn’t move for a second. His hand lingers on you – claiming and unmistakable. His fingers tighten at your waist, and then he leans in, his lips brushing just below your ear before nipping at the sensitive skin. “Can’t leave you alone for a second without you gettin’ into trouble, huh?”

His voice is velvet wrapped danger, smooth and lazy. It sends a thrill straight through you.

You turn in his grasp, looking up at him through your lashes, a perfect mix of innocence and desire in your eyes. The whiskey hums through your veins, but it’s not that. It’s him.

The way he stepped in like he owned you, like there was never any doubt.

Your thighs press together in search of relief, pussy fluttering. A deep ache blooming in your belly, needy for him.

Slow and sinuous you lift your arm, winding it around his neck as you rise on your toes. A delicate, teasing kiss lands against his cheek, his beard rough against your lips. Your mouth hovers just over his ear as you whisper, “Call me your damsel in distress.”

Jax exhales sharply through his nose, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. His fingers flex tighter against you, digging in to keep himself steady.

“You want me to save you, darlin’?” His tone is playful, but you hear it – that slow-burning restraint, the control that’s this close to slipping.

You don’t miss a beat. You want him so bad.

“No. I’d rather you fuck me.”

The shift is instant.

Jax stills, a sharp breath hisses between his teeth. His smirk fades – not gone, just different now. Darker. Hungrier.

And then he’s moving – fast. His grip is firm as he grabs your wrist and starts leading you away. Not rough, but absolute. No hesitation.

Just pure, raw intent.

The reception is still buzzing around you, the music, and the laughter – but it all fades as Jax weaves through the outskirts of the crowd, guiding you toward the dimly lit edge of the property. Past the glow of string lights, past the open spaces where people might see.

Then, suddenly, you’re against a wall.

The wood of the garden shed scratches into your back, but you barely register it because Jax is right there, crowding into you – his knee sliding between your thighs, pressing against you just enough to make you gasp.

His hands roam – one gripping your ass, the other curling around your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. In your peripheral, you catch a glint of his SONS ring, a reminder of who he is and what he’s capable of.

His breath is hot when he leans in, laced with beer and nicotine, dizzying. His chest rises and falls faster than usual, his grip tightening as he takes in the way you tremble beneath him. Like he feels it too – the arousal and the hunger.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” he growls. His right hand remains on your jaw, keeping your lust blown eyes fixated on him. His other hand gripped tighter against your plush thigh, pressing into the fabric of your dress like he’s debating whether to rip it or slide it up.

You smile slyly at him, still buzzing, still feeling yourself from the whiskey and the way he claimed you before. “A little bit,” you admit, your voice dripping with daring.

Jax lets out a slow, measured breath through his nose, his fingers sliding lower, skimming the bare skin of your plump thigh.

“You’ve been a tease all night,” he rasps, his lips just barely brushing the shell of your ear. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like? Watching you, knowing what’s not under this dress?” His fingers pressing into you just a little more firmly.

You swallow hard, pulse racing. Your voice is barely a whisper as you tilt your chin up. “And what are you going to do about it?”

His last shred of restraint snapped, and his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that was all heat and desperation. His hands were everywhere – cupping your face, sliding down your sides, gripping your hips as he pressed you firmly against the wall.

“Mine,” he growled against your mouth, the word rough and possessive as his hands slid lower, gripping the curve of your ass, and lifting you slightly so you could feel how hard he was for you.

You gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as he buried his face in your neck – lips, teeth, and tongue setting your skin on fire.

"Jax," you choked out, your head falling back against the wall as his mouth traveled lower – sucking, biting, bruising – until your knees threatened to buckle.

But your body had a mind of its own, pressing into him – desperate, aching – your pussy throbbing against the hard length of him, needing more.

“You like this, don’t you?” he hissed as he trailed kisses back up to your neck. “Knowing I’m losing my goddamn mind over you.”

A wicked smirk tugged at your lips, your nails raking lightly down his kutte. “I think you love it,” you taunted. “Knowing I’m just as fucked up over you.”

Jax lets out a low grunt while his hand slipped between your thighs. His fingers found your clit, grazing it teasingly, making you jolt against him.

“Shiiiit,” he draws out, his forehead pressing to yours as he felt just how wet you were for him. “You’re drippin’ for me, sweetheart.”

Before you could retort, Jax yanked you forward slightly, and in one swift motion, he spun you around, pressing your front against the wall. His hands moved, one splayed against your hip, the other slipping back between your thighs – teasing, torturing.

His lips found the nape of your neck, sucking and biting as he pushed your dress up, the fabric gathering around your waist, exposing you completely to him. You’re utterly intoxicated – by his touch, his scent, the unrestrained intensity radiating off him.

You hear the hurried clink of his belt, the rasp of the zipper – and then his finger slides into you – curling just right, pulling a sharp cry from your lips as your legs spread wider on instinct.

Jax grins against your cheek, clearly pleased with himself. “Good girl,” he praises, voice dripping with approval.

Then he pushes another finger inside, his pace steady – driving you higher and higher while his other hand worked himself free.

Your lips parted, a deep moan escaping as you pressed back against him, rolling your hips to feel more of his fingers in your aching cunt. “I’ve been thinking about your cock fucking me all night.” You managed to stutter out as his fingers continued their assault inside you.

“Fuck,” he groaned out, his thumb gliding against your sensitive clit.

You shuddered, arching into his touch as his fingers teased you, spreading your arousal. A needy whine escaped your lips when he pulled away – and a low, cocky grunt rumbled from his chest at you.

But he didn’t linger. His hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding you into position as the head of his cock pressed against your entrance, rubbing and teasing, driving you to the edge of desperation.

“Tell me you want it,” he demanded as he held himself there, teasing – poised to take you.

“I want you, Jax. Please.” you breathed, your fingers curling against the wall as you pushed back against him.

With one sharp thrust, he filled you, the stretch of him stealing the air from your lungs. You cried out, your hands bracing against the wall as he buried himself inside you, his grip on you tight enough to leave marks.

“Jesus,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he paused, letting you adjust to him. “You feel so fucking good.”

You could barely form words, your body quivering as you clenched around him, your breath coming in shallow pants. “Fuck, Jax! Please.” you begged again, your voice pleading.

He didn’t need any more encouragement.

He pulled back slowly, the drag of him torturously slow, before slamming back into you. The force of it sent a shockwave through your body, and you moaned loudly, your head falling forward as he set a punishing rhythm.

“Look at you,” he praised, his hand sliding up your side, cupping your breast, the other keeping you steady as he rutted into you. “Taking me so fucking well.”

The mixture of pleasure and the exhilaration of being semi-public had you spiraling quickly, the sounds of your pleas mingling with the faint noise of the party in the background. You were his – and the way he moved, the way he filled you so completely, left no room for doubt.

“Mine,” he growled into your neck, low and possessive.

And in that moment, you knew it was true.

The force of Jax's movements had you seeing stars, your body trembling against the shed as he plunged into you relentlessly. Each motion sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, building tighter until you were barely clinging to sanity.

“Jax,” you mewled, his name spilling from your lips in gasps, your breath catching with every snap of his hips.

Your nails scraped against the surface of the wall as you fought against your impending climax. “I’m close,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as the pressure inside you reached its peak.

He didn’t slow. If anything, your words only egged him on, his pace quickening as he took you, each movement punctuated by his throaty grunts.

His hand snaked up, wrapping gently but firmly around your throat, tipping your head back so his lips could brush against you. “You’re mine,” he growled. “Say it.”

Your breath hitched, the pressure of his hand on your throat sending a new wave of pleasure crashing over you. His movements becoming more desperate and commanding. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed into the night, mixing with your breathless moans and his rough groans.

When you didn’t respond fast enough, he pulled back slightly, just enough to swat at your exposed bottom with his free hand, the sharp sting sending another rush of heat through you.

“Be a good girl,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The combination of his words, his touch, and the unrelenting pleasure coursing through you was too much. You were helpless against his assault as you cried out, “I’m yours, Jax! I’m yours!”

His growl was pure satisfaction, his grip tightening slightly on your throat as he drove into you harder, chasing his own release.

It sent you hurtling over the edge, your body clenching around him as your climax crashed through you, leaving you gasping and shaking in his arms. The intensity of it stole your breath, your cries muffled as his hand slid to cup your jaw, tilting your head back to capture your lips in a messy kiss.

The way you fell apart around him was enough to push him to his own orgasm. With a few more hard, deep strokes – a low, raw groan tore from his chest as he came. His body tensed against yours, his grip unyielding as he spilled into you, marking you in every way he could.

For just a moment, the world was silent except for the sound of your mingled breaths, the faint hum of the party in the distance, a reminder of just how exposed you were.

Jax pressed his forehead against your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin as he muttered, “Fuck, darlin’. You drive me insane.”

You managed a weak laugh, your body still trembling as you leaned back against him, letting his arms hold you steady. “You love it,” you purred in full confidence.

Jax held you, his hands resting gently on your hips as you both caught your breath. His lips brushed the side of your neck in a way that sent a lingering heat down your spine, the earlier intensity now softened into something more intimate.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice rough, but laced with genuine care.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his eyes over your shoulder with a small, breathless smile. “More than okay.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up in a grin, and he brushed a light kiss to your shoulder before pulling back just enough to straighten your dress. His fingers lingered on the fabric, smoothing it down over your round hips and curvy ass with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

He backed up, tucking himself back into his pants, fingers working the button and fastening his belt. When you spun around to face him, your eyes met his lazy smile, the night reflected in the spark of his blue eyes.

He gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, leaning in to steal a kiss that left you breathless all over again. “In case I didn’t mention it earlier, you look fucking sexy tonight, babe,” he husked, finishing his words with a playful nip to your lips.

You giggled softly, pulling away to adjust the sleeve of your dress and run your fingers through your hair in a half-hearted attempt to fix it. “I’m gonna pull myself together before I head back. You should go first.”

Jax’s expression turned wicked, his lips twitching with amusement as he gripped you, pulling you flush against him. He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing playfully as he leaned in, his voice dropping lower. “I can’t wait to taste me in you later,” he rasped, the gravelly edge of his tone igniting another pulse of heat in your core, your breath hitching at the sheer filth of it.

You pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze with a wide-eyed look before your own lips curled into a teasing grin. You bit your lip, trying to regain your composure as you smoothed down your dress one last time. “I think I’ve had enough of that party for one night. Meet me at my place in thirty minutes?”

His gaze softened, a hint of warmth dancing in his eyes as he lifted a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek. “I’ll be there,” he promised, his tone intimate.

He stepped back, running a hand through his hair before adjusting the collar of his kutte, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off the tension. There was a confident swagger in his movements, casual and unhurried as he prepared to head back to the party, but the hunger in his eyes lingered on you for just a second longer, before giving you a wink.

You slipped away toward the bathrooms, your pulse still racing and your body buzzing from everything that had just happened. The anticipation of what was still to come was almost too much to handle, but you managed to keep your cool as you disappeared around the corner.

You knew Jax was watching until you were out of sight, a faint hint of mischief still resting on his lips as he adjusted his kutte one last time before heading back to say his goodbyes.

Thirty minutes couldn’t come fast enough.

[raiffeldrakon123]

DP X DC | Short Story 1

The following story is based on a prompt I've made. The idea is the same, but the execution is different.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

— Alright Steph, we are all here now, how about you start explaining now? -Barbara said softly, her gaze kind. The rest of the Batfamily watched Steph with a mix of curiosity and subtle concern from their seats around the room.

Stephanie lowered her head, her gaze fixed on the floor as her mind raced. She had always known this day would come —it was almost a miracle she’d managed to keep the secret for as long as she had. But now that the moment was here, she had no idea how to begin explaining it all to them. She stayed silent for a few more seconds, letting out a slow breath before raising her head and running a hand through her hair. Her eyes met the faces of the people around her —not her family by blood, but at this point, they might as well have been.

— Alright, but just for the record, I swear I didn’t mean to keep this a secret from you guys, -She said, her voice tinged with guilt. She lifted a hand to scratch the back of her neck, glancing away.- For this long, anyway.

— So, you did mean to keep this a secret from us, -Damian said, narrowing his eyes at her, his frown deepening

Stephanie flinched at Damian’s words but pushed through.

— Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about this sooner, -She said, her voice steady despite the tension in her shoulders.- But in my defense, it wasn’t any of your business. It was mine, and I had it under control. -She swept her gaze across the room, meeting each of their eyes in turn —Though her gaze lingered on Tim, Bruce, Barbara, and Dick a bit more than the others.- And be honest — if I’d told you all about it at the very start of my vigilante career, can any of you really say you wouldn’t have meddled?

Bruce, Barbara, Dick, and Tim exchanged uncomfortable glances, their silence louder than any admission. Alfred shook his head in exasperation while Selena shook her head with fondness, and Steph couldn’t help but let a small smile tug at her lips. If she had told them and they’d decided to meddle, she knew he would have quietly taken her side —even if both had wanted to meddle themselves; They were one of the rare voices of reason in the house, both were consumed by paranoia and actually knew when to step in and when to let things be.

— Anyway... how about we get back to your explanation? -Barbara said, gently steering the conversation back on track. She unlocked her phone and opened the gallery, turning the screen toward Stephanie.- When did this happen?

The image on the screen was one Barbara had found during her routine security check, making sure nothing dangerous had slipped into their devices. It showed a grinning Danny holding a baby girl —Ellie— who was beaming as she reached for the phone. The caption read: "Look how much fun I’m having, Mommy!"

— It... it happened back when I first started going out to stop my father, -Stephanie said, thinking back about those times.- I met Danny right after I found out the guy I was sort of dating at school was only with me because I was one of the few girls he hadn’t screwed yet.

The room fell into silence like a guillotine blade. The shift in atmosphere was immediate —muscles tensed, jaws clenched, and eyes darkened with barely restrained fury. Even Alfred, the eternal wellspring of calm of the family, had a cold, dangerous glint in his gaze that reminded everyone that he used to work for the secret services back in England.

— And who, -Dick started, his voice dripping with a sweetness so artificial it was venomous.- would this ‘guy’ be? -His smile was so painfully fake it might as well have been carved into his face.- I think I speak for everyone when I say we just want to... talk.

Around the room, heads nodded in grim unison. Damian, Duke, Bruce, Lucius, Alfred, Barbara, Cassandra, Kate, Harper, Selina, and Jason —each one radiating their own brand of barely contained rage in her steed.

— I’m not telling you his name, -Steph said, rolling her eyes, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.- As much as I don’t like him, I don’t want him mysteriously ending up in the hospital over something that happened years ago. Besides, -she added with a smirk,- I kicked him so hard in the nuts he probably still wakes up screaming, so you guys don’t need to get even for me.

— You went too easy on him, Brown, -Damian growled, voice low and brimming with malice.- Scum like that needs to suffer more. Pain is the only language they understand.

— Have to agree with the demon spawn, -Kate muttered, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.- He clearly needs a better lesson in how to treat women like human beings.

— Preach, -Cassandra, Selena, and Harper said in perfect, almost chilling synchronicity.

Their protectiveness genuinely touched Stephanie, but she had a story to finish.

[waitmyturtles]

Gelboys, and the Delicious Art of Eliciting Cringe

A bunch of my amazing friends are doing an amazing project in rewatching the wonderful 2019 drama, Theory of Love, and watching the romcom films that are thematically associated with each ToL episode. Their recent ToL posts have gotten me thinking about Third and cringe.

When I think about Theory of Love, I always firstly think about wanting to chuck a chancla at Third's conker.

I'm a Khai defender, even while admitting that he was a gigantic putz to Third during a lot of the series. But, as the lovely @lurkingshan said to me when I first tuned into ToL -- Third was the architect of his own misery.

Oh, indeed he was. This incommunicative wet blanket! I wanted to keep yelling at Third: if you crush on a person, they can't read yer mind until you say something about it!

Third filled me with a sense of dread and cringe. He couldn't bring himself to communicate his crush on Khai to Khai. My dread came from watching Khai continue to do his Khai things, with my knowing that Third would get increasingly heartbroken vis à vis Khai, without Third intervening unto himself to stop his cascade into misery until it was too late for him. As a viewer, I saw Third devolve, slowly crumbling into more and more despair.

In my 2023 review of Theory of Love, I argued that part of the show's brilliance in presenting such a pitiful Third at the start was a brilliant narrative move to lull us viewers into feeling a sense of implicit empathy towards Third -- a sympathetic bias that would then lead to us viewers to not question Third on his actually very questionable decisions. I thought it was such a good play on the part of the screenwriters to tease us viewers like this.

What I'm absolutely LOVING about the currently-airing Gelboys are similar feelings of simultaneous empathy and cringe for the guys in the love triangle that's been established as of episode three among Fou4mod, Chian, and Bua.

We were first presented with Fou4mod and his life deal: his wildin' family, his musical predilections, his bisexuality -- and his very strong internal demand for clarity in relationships. Surely the moment of crying in the mall to end episode one gave me the teeny-bopper shivers, but I got the strongest sense of cringe from Fou4mod's behavior at the end of episode two, when we saw him -- in real time!!! -- compromise and negotiate around his internal emotional compass for the sake of keeping the waffling Chian close to him.

(h/t @clairedaring )

That shit was just painful to watch (and it was AMAZINGLY well done). For my sake, it was particularly painful because I could so, so, SO relate to being just like that when I was a teenager.

I'm an old mom and auntie now, but ::hacking cough:: back in mah day, I remember being a 15-year-old teenager and thinking that my only rule in relationships would be that if I was lucky enough to date someone cute, then that would be all I'd need. I wouldn't demand anything else. I'd consider myself worthy if someone cute liked me back.

Cue the sirens and alarms! Someone should have, because of course, with that mindset, I got myself into a whole lot of messy-ass shit, dealing with a bunch of assholes during and well after my college years. I had a common mix of low self-esteem and and ill-conceived priorities that led me to date a string of incompatible dillweeds until I got myself into more mature relationships from my mid-20s on (with those relationships not always being perfect ones, either).

I find the cringe that Fou4mod and Chian present to be SO particularly viscerally painful because, to me -- it is SO relatable.

We have here teenagers who don't know what they're thinking, what they're feeling, what they're even doing -- because they don't have the comparative life experience to know what their actions might result in by way of what we, as the more mature and invisible audience, expect as their natural emotional ends. Fou4mod and Chian have no idea, because this is the first time they're going through these waffling human interactions, in love, dating, courtship, relationships, hook-ups, whatever.

Take even Chian's waffling and cringey behavior. I am loving all the varied takes on Chian (cc @tinrange and @mirmoria). It is so easy at this point, now that we've consumed episode three, to perhaps demonize Chian, and I definitely feel at times like I want to do that, too.

But I want to take a step back and assess Chian's existence as we know it at this moment -- from my perspective, of all things, as a worried mom, and as a former teen myself.

I love what @tinrange presented in her post about Chian's existence and status as a teenager who is very, very alone, and is looking for some kind of connection ANYWHERE, no matter how unhealthy he knows, and his friends know, those connections to be. Chian is so alone, we might even consider his current state one of (temporary?) abandonment. I love that his moment getting advice from chatGPT shocked so many of us to states of stomach discomfort.

But, also -- this kid is ALWAYS connected online. The headphones are in. Killing time with his napping and/or studying friends, watching a drama on 2.0x. Scrolling IG endlessly. Repeatedly editing his Close Friends list. Thinking about the symbolism of sharing a story to literally one person. Receiving the heartbreak, in silence, of realizing those symbolic efforts keep cyclically coming to naught as Bua flip-flops his attention to others.

Chian is in an almost constant state of distraction. During the very few times that we see him disconnected -- like the moment above, when he sees Bua with Moo after doing Bua's nails (like a chump), or the moment when he negotiates his unclear status with Fou4mod -- he is able to, finally, get in touch with the discomfort of the instability of his status with Bua. And it's clearly breaking him.

But he's not stopping the cycle, as of episode three. His wheel, for now, seems to keep turning in the same direction, back towards his attraction to Bua, almost serving Bua the attention that Bua wants, on a platter.

Chian, I'd posit, doesn't have the life experience yet to know how to break that cycle. From the perspective of a worried mom, what would I say to Chian? "That Bua guy is a POS, you gotta move on"?

My advice would be useless, we know that. We know Chian's not been listening to his friends, to the point of his friends giving up on Chian, knowing Chian is going to repeat the cycle of servitude and rejection that he's been dishing up to Bua.

But besides Chian not listening to his friends, I'll say again that Chian -- especially without the physical presence of supportive and empathetic family near him to give him perhaps sounder advice than his friends -- does not have the guidance or skill set to know HOW to change his behavior. He might only be able to break away from Bua when Bua does something idiotic or drastic. Which, we know, will leave Chian even more in the dumps -- because that specific scenario would leave Chian with absolutely no agency to change his hoped-for outcomes.

WE, as the viewers, know how Chian needs to change his behavior. But Chian, as a very wonderfully written natural teenager, has no idea how to do that yet. And I think that's just so very raw and realistic, and it's being beautifully done in this show.

What was great about Khai in Theory of Love was that, in the second half of the series, we saw him engage in very specific acts of behavioral change to get to a place to be a realistic partner to Third. I talked in my ToL piece about how behavioral change is very much the most difficult type of change a human can make.

While I don't have a lot of hope for a positive outcome for Chian (YET), I am at least encouraged by Fou4mod continuing to dally around the center of his own moral compass, hinting to Chian that he'd like an update on that status question, stat.

Fou4mod centers himself around his desire for clarity, even though he's really messing around the edges of it, eliciting the concern of Baabin. But Fou4mod still has that conviction. It hasn't burnt out yet. He has hope, and that hope is defining and disappointing him, as we see in the last scene of the episode, as he stands in-between Bua, Moo, and Chian. And unlike Chian -- Fou4mod has family, lots of it, around him, and a friend that's patiently by his side, there to comment on Fou4mod's navigation of this very titchy and ick situation.

Fou4mod has optimism and is guided by his center. Bua seems like a big ol' playa (but we'll find out more if/when we get an episode about him). While Chian, in many ways, does indeed deserve to be put into a blender, I want to make one little note of hope I have for him, something that makes me cringe at him just a tiny little bit less:

While Bua used his Close Friends list to show off his flirting towards Moo to Chian, Chian removed Fou4mod from his list before he uploaded his own flirtatious moment with Bua.

The whole IG flirting circle thing is just messy and uncool anyway. But at least Chian thought to put up a boundary that Bua himself hadn't thought of. Maybe Chian will show us a glimpse of an internal compass that we're unaware of as this series goes on.

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Dream (Dean Winchester x female reader)

You love Dean when he’s awake, but there’s just something about him when he’s sleeping.

Read it on AO3

My 2024 Kinktober series

Rated E. 1.2k words. Consensual somnophilia. Sleeping Dean. That's it, really.

You agreed on this a long time ago, but it still feels illicit every time you do it.

The case done, you catch up with some old girlfriends from college who live close by. They think you’re a traveling saleswoman, maybe part of a pyramid scheme, but the small lie doesn’t hinder the fun you have. While you dress up before the evening, tight jeans, breasts pushed up, Dean watches you intently.

“You’re gonna have a hard time keeping the local Neanderthals off you,” he says and you grin while you apply lipstick in the mirror.

“I have my ways,” you say, smacking your lips together, then looking at Dean in the reflection. He chuckles a little, but his look tells you he would prefer to bend you over something right now to you going out. Too bad your hair is already done, or you might let him. Later.

You get up, grab your bag, run a hand through your hair and Dean walks up to you. One arm goes around you and he looks at you like you’re a snack he can’t wait to get between his teeth.

“Have fun now,” he says and then inclines his head. “Just not too much fun.” You wink at him, give him a small kiss, then run your thumb over his lips to wipe off the lipstick there.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be,” you say and look into his eyes. “I’ll try not to wake you.” You see the second Dean registers what you say. He nods slowly, a smile playing on his lips.

The evening is full of drinks that are too sugary and that perfect mix of scandalous gossiping and soul-searching deep talk. You show the girls a picture of Dean and one of them, your former roommate, shakes her head.

“I would buy five of him, even if he wasn’t on sale,” she says, clicking her tongue. You grin.

“Believe me,” you say, taking a sip from your drink and playfully running your tongue over the top of your straw. “You don’t need five of him. One does everything you need him to.” The other women squeal and then suddenly you’re dancing, hugging each other, and there’s one or two Neanderthals but you couldn’t care less about them.

 It’s extra hard being quiet when you come back to the motel, because you’re a little tipsy. You unlock the door, sneak in. Bag goes on the floor, shoes are carefully kicked off. Then you look up.

Your eyes are still adjusting to the darkness but you can see Dean’s shape in the bed, sheets tangled between his legs. You bite your lip. Your jacket goes too and then you are crawling onto the bed, trying to move as carefully as possible.

That was one big challenge when this all started – Dean has the instincts of a hawk, so one worry was if he would actually stay asleep long enough for it to work. You got lucky, though. Apparently, your sounds and actions don’t register to his subconscious brain as threatening.

You just look down at him for a second. God, he’s beautiful, especially like this. Puffy lips slightly parted, long lashes resting on his skin. Unguarded, like he’s a living thing that could actually get hurt and not the god of war that appears once daylight breaks. It makes love and a good host of arousal run through you.

Then you extend your hand, and with the gentlest of touches, lay it on his crotch, over the boxershorts he wears to sleep. Small circles, that’s how you start.

Dean’s responsive as all hell. It’s one of the things you always liked about him. How all you need to do is to bend over, pretend to pick something up, look back at him and he’s ready to go.

It’s the same now, and after only a few seconds, you can start to feel him respond, his cock slowly hardening, growing, until it strains in his shorts. Your other hand pulls the waistband down slowly while you reach in and take him out. Perfection, you think as you lean forward on your elbows, and start licking at him. Curved and with soft skin and a pink head.

You nibble at that head now, spreading a little bit of saliva on it. Dean, all of Dean, twitches in his sleep, and you wonder what he’s dreaming. Wonder if maybe you can turn one of his frequent nightmares into a good dream.

You hear the side of his face hit the pillow when you take him deep for the first time. He tastes salty and slightly musky, and you would like to bottle him up if you could. You bob your head up and down, slowly, but go deep each time, the head of Dean’s cock tickling the back of your throat. You actually close your eyes at the feeling of him, because you are just that much of a lost cause.

He’s making some wonderful noises in his sleep so you speed up, letting more spit collect in your mouth to ease the passage. The sounds your mouth makes make you clench and for a moment you think to stop, to instead get naked and ride Dean. But you don’t want to stop, and you can be patient.

Dean whimpers a little, a light sound deep in his throat that he wouldn’t be caught dead making during his waking hours, and it’s enough to make your eyes flutter open, because you know what will happen next. You live for this part. You keep going, and soon you can feel the twitch that’s telling you he’s about to come.

Without moving your mouth off him or stopping your movement, you bring your hand to Dean’s arm, gently scratch your nails along the skin there.

The feeling along with the budding orgasm help bring him into wakefulness just as you feel his balls tighten. It’s not easy from the position you’re in but you just manage to look up at him.

You know Dean’s awake though when he twists his hands into the sheets, desperately fumbling for anything to hold on to, his hips bucking up and you make eye contact just before he shoots down your throat.

Beautiful, desperate whines leave him as his stomach muscles contract, sounds he would be much too controlled to make otherwise. You wish you could drink them down along with his come, you catch yourself thinking, and nearly roll your eyes at yourself.

You finally move off him, hand lazily pumping him a few more times while Dean catches his breath. His chest is rising and falling, and he looks so perfectly broken that you want to touch yourself just to how he looks right now. Guard down, spent, no pretense. Just the perfection that is him.

You wipe your hand across your mouth, then crawl up to him and snuggle against his side. His hand pats your arm, uncoordinated.

“Fuck,” he says and you grin. You bury your face against his neck and settle down to wait.

Dean is extra generous on nights like this. He’ll take care of you, filthily and thoroughly, in a little bit. But just now, this is all you want, all you need. To know that Dean has let go, and that you were the cause of it.

You grin to yourself. It’s gonna be a long night.

[theogonize]

intentional voyeurism wilson... nnnghhhhhh (unedited filth)

when house off-handedly jokes about being able to "see everything" through the windows of their neighboring offices, if you and wilson were ever to fuck in his office... something nefarious sets off in his mind. he knew you were into the rushed secret sex thing, him even mentioning it made you giggle and blush. you weren't familiar with just how much house would be able to see through the windows. and you trusted james, you didn't think he'd whore you out to his best friend because it turned him on.

he spent the next few days testing out the angles from the balcony that would display your body the way he wanted.

one day, when you come to visit him, when he purposely forgets his lunch at home so you'd have a reason to, he acts up. he requests to meet you in his office, privately. you smile at house on your way there. he, in turn, eyes you intently. wilson greets you with messy, hungry kisses, already quite turned on by the prospect of house watching. he gropes your ass and pushes you on the desk.

"my my james, you weren't kidding about fucking in the office, were you?" you giggle breathlessly. the rush, the secrecy, this sudden neediness in your ever professional boyfriend; everything in this moment was spurring a might rainfall between your thighs.

he shakes his head, yanking your clothes off you as quickly as possible. he was being hasty till this point, he just wanted the fun to begin. it wouldn't until he messaged house: "for god's sake don't interrupt me right now."

fortunately for wilson, house wasn't actually off-handedly joking that time. he meant it. ever since wilson started seeing you, house was desperate to join it seemed. everything about your body and the clothes that hugged it ever so snugly made him extremely... curious.

pressing his teeth into your neck softly, he made his way to your bra, unhooking it with ease. he used both hands to tug down your panties. then he heard it. footsteps. the cane. he was on the verge of losing all control over the sheer excitement coursing through his veins.

he propped you up on his desk in a way where house would be able to see your tits and waist clearly but not your throbbing pussy, as he expertly began fingerfucking you. he teased house with the blurry yet distinct sight of your heaving, flushed chest and descriptive expressions as james drew moan after moan, scream after scream from you.

poor house. whatever wilson was doing, he was doing right. the way your brows furrowed and the way you bit your bottom lip... dear lord. you had left him throbbing and leaking in his pants. it took everything in him to not barge through the door and watch you orgasm on wilson's skilled fingers, spilling your juices all over his thick forearms. that lucky bastard wilson.

james pulled out of you, making you whimper at the sudden emptyness. he knew house was watching. he knew he had an audience to impress. you were his little showgirl. his pretty little toy he could show off to his friend. his licked his fingers, covering them with spit. he lightly smacked the side of your thighs. it was time to change positions. of course, wilson wasnt cruel. oh no. he wanted house to get a good view of his whore, his plaything. he bent you over his desk, exposing your bare ass and thighs to your secret voyeur, not so secret to your boyfriend of course.

but somethings are just his to see, like that pretty pussy of yours, and your pretty face pressed up against the desk as your pleads vibrated through the wood. his fingers and palm conveniently covered your hole, again. house was robbed of seeing the flow of pleasure on your face. he was disappointed. and helpless, as much he wanted to, he couldnt jerk off in the balcony. he just had to ache with no release.

the last view house sees is that of wilson licking your cum of his fingers, looking him directly in the eye. he closes the blinds as you pant and try to gather yourself. house can't help but soil his boxers with his release.

that lucky bastard wilson.

[pascalislove]

ANGEL: SALESMAN X FEM!READER- PART 2

Summary: She was an angel and she should be his.

It's only been a few days since he first saw Y/N, but he already felt like he'd been watching her his entire life.

There was something about her that kept him captive, something that encouraged him to follow her, to know her, to want to possess her. Every step he took, every smile he shared with strangers in the bookstore, made him more eager, more determined.

I wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was her purity, perhaps her soul so oblivious to the evil of the world he knew. Or maybe it was just a need for control. What I did know was that I had to have her. And for that, he needed to know everything about her.

It started with the simplest thing: public information. He searched her name on the internet, scanned social media profiles, checked any trace he could find. Y/N, 25, was a woman without much presence in the digital world. There were no flashy photos, no personal posts that gave away too much about her life.

Most of her photos were of books, of quiet landscapes, of a simple and seemingly happy life.

He didn't care. He continued searching. And he found it.

Y/N had a sister, a fact that didn't entirely surprise him. Her name was Hye-Jin, and she lived in the same city, in a relatively close neighborhood. The family seemed united, but modest. The sister, Hye-Jin, was married and had two small children, a 5-year-old girl and a 3-year-old boy. Y/N used to take care of them sometimes when her sister and brother-in-law couldn't. Her parents lived in Busan, a few hours away, which seemed to be the only part of her life that actually involved trips out of the city.

She was a woman everyone trusted. But there was something else.

There was a brother.

And he was her weakness.

His name was Min-Soo, a man who seemed to have no direction in life. He didn't have a stable job, he didn't have a family of his own, and the worst thing: he had an addiction.

Bets.

It didn't take him long to figure it out. Just a couple of calls to the right places, a few questions in the circles where money changed hands in a matter of seconds. Min-Soo was known in underground gambling clubs. He lost more than he earned, and when he didn't have money, he used names that weren't his. The last name he had used was Y/N. He had applied for a loan in her name, an absurd amount of money that she would never have asked for. And now, the creditors were looking for her.

It wasn't difficult to imagine the scene. Y/N, receiving threatening calls, maybe even visits from men who wouldn't accept excuses.

Her once peaceful life was now shrouded in fear and despair.

And he knew it.

Y/N seemed to be the cornerstone of their family, someone everyone turned to, someone who, without asking for anything in return, offered her help.

But he saw something more in that. I saw vulnerability.

He knew that the poor, those who always gave without receiving, were the ones who most needed what he had: money, power, and a world of luxuries. And in his mind, Y/N wasn't cut out for such a simple life. I wasn't. She deserved something much greater, much more valuable, and he was willing to give it to her.

He came to that conclusion as he watched her leave the bookstore for another day, with her worn coat, the scarf that already showed signs of use, and her step light but firm.

It was as if her carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. That night, like so many others, he decided to follow her.

His black car was parked outside the building for longer than usual. He watched from the darkness as Y/N entered the building and headed to the second floor, like always. There was no doubt that she lived there. And although he didn't care about the discomfort he might be causing, the truth was that he already had everything planned. Hours passed, and night fell on the city. From his car, he watched the window of his apartment, waiting for that moment when the lights would finally go out. When he saw that, shortly after midnight, the light in the living room faded, he knew it was time.

He approached the building with firm steps, knowing exactly where he was. Security cameras were no longer a concern for him; I knew how to avoid them. The front door was locked, but the doorman already knew him, or at least had seen him in the neighborhood, and did not suspect his intentions.

He walked stealthily through the hallways until he reached Y/N's door. He looked around to make sure no one was nearby and, with a dexterity that surprised no one but himself, effortlessly opened the door.

The smell of aged wood and home-cooked food greeted him as he entered her home. It was not a luxurious house, far from it. It was modest, perhaps a little messy, with cheap furniture and decorations that had clearly been purchased at thrift stores. There were books everywhere, some even on the floor, and the soft light of a floor lamp illuminated the place softly.

He smiled with satisfaction.

Everything was in its place. It all seemed so... real. So simple. And, at the same time, so devoid of what she truly deserved.

He walked around the apartment, examining every corner, touching without leaving a trace on the objects he found: a broken mug on the kitchen table, a folded blanket on the couch, a framed photo of his family on the fireplace.

But what really caught his attention was the room. As he approached, he peeked through the crack in the door. There she was, lying on her bed, hugging a pillow, with a calm expression on her face. She's breathing was regular, calm.

It was his time.

The desire to touch her, to get closer to her, invaded him. He wanted to caress her hair, feel the softness of her skin, and mark her as his. But he held back. I knew it wasn't the time. Patience, waiting, was an essential part of the game.

But the temptation continued to grow within him.

"Soon," he said to himself. "You'll be mine soon, Y/N."

Before leaving, he once again observed every corner of her humble life. And as he walked away, he smiled to himself. There was still much to do. But it didn't matter. In the end, he would be the one to give her everything she needed.

And she would be his.

This story does not follow the plot of the series, tell me if you like it and if you want me to tag you in the chapters🫶

Tag list:

@beebeechaos, @onyxmango, @muchwita

MASTERLIST

[dumbgoondog]

Choso Kamo Thoughts SFW/NSFW + D-Eval

MDNI NSFW +18

SFW and NSFW Headcanons collection for Choso Kamo. Along with his D-Evaluation

Cw/Tw — cannibalism, Mahito, pregnancy talk, stalking

Choso an empathetic person who takes his failures very personally. Like when he lost Eso and Kechizu. He is secretly a VERY emotional person, he just expresses it differently.

Choso forgets humans can see him. He often just does shit cuz o that. Picking up something from a food stall and jus walkin, jus goin in a theater. You get it.

He’s eaten people. He hates how human passing he is, look at his brothers! To try and separate himself from that humanity tho, he eats humans. He’s very picky tho, only certain cuts, gotta be cooked, and he claims people taste different depending on health issues. It’s not common he eats humans tho, it’s more of a treat.

Choso cooks for the disaster curses! He cooks for game night, and for celebrations but the Otha’s normally don eat. Eso and Kechizu used to help in the kitchen, and he loved it. He also has cooked with Uraume and has learned tricks from them.

Choso friends with Mahito cuz Mahito loves observing this “family unit” and learning Choso’s definitions of family. Choso likes talking about family with Mahito and about what a future for curses might look like, where hybrids would fit, could a curse like Mahito make more curses? They got fertility tests done together with the help of Kenjaku

Choso friends wit Jogo cuz Choso and old soul and that an old man. They like talking traditions and history, culture too, how that will fit in the age of curses. They drink tea and meditate togetha.

Choso acts like he’s dead. Slow, shambling, grunts more than he talks, stares, slow to respond cuz he thinkin. Watches people not cuz he judgin but cuz he can. He often lost in his own head too. Choso is Zombie and vampire coded

Choso is morbidly fascinated by the thought that Mahito could get someone pregnant and if that would make a hybrid or not. It also gets him wonderin, if there’s enough hybrids and they all start gettin it on and have kids are they hybrids or a subspecies of their own now? Choso also wonders about if Mahito got another curse pregnant what would happen?

Choso thinks about a lot of things he should NOT say out loud. Like the last point, he shouldn’t be sayin that to anyone. He might have intrusive thoughts I dunno, but he thinkin about a lot of morbid and morally gray shi

Avid reader. LOVES books. So much so he’s trying to learn other languages to read more. He’s on AO3 reading shi too. He loves seeking out indie works and small works people are makin.

He’s a stalker. Not like Mahito, he’s not a freak about it. He’s genuinely trying to just watch you, like a show or movie. He’s not stealing your stuff, or breakin in anywhere, he’s not bothering you on the clock he just watches from a distance. This has lead him to protect you from other curses and even humans a few times, he doesn’t think you owe him anything for it.

He probably takes Itadori as his last name after finding out Yuji is his bro. He WILL want you to take Itadori too. He wants to start the Itadori clan! A clan for hybrids, his brothers, the family!

He thinks the really small flyheads, are cute! He keeps one like a pet. It’s not sentient after all.

Classical music. Goth Music. And when I say classical I mean traditional Japanese music not Motzart, tho he does want to start branching out to other countries classical music!

Choso Kamo D-Evaluation

GIRTH HELL. 5.7in girth. For ref a toilet paper tube(middle bit) is 6in circumference/girth. Shit gonna stretch ya TIGHT. Length tho 6in. Above average length, pretty good, that girth takes it up high tho. Tight trim, hair kinda messy still tho, well washed. He’s got no visible veins and leans to the left where he tucks it. Thick, hot, loads. Porn animation style. Pretty white color, tastes honestly pretty ok for a dead dude. Kinda bitter tho. He’s got smallish balls which makes you wonder where all that cum from. Surprisingly fertile, but lower fertility. He cums at least twice a session, after the first one his face might start leaking a bit and he pull you on top of him.

[werezmastarbucks]

running scared

masterlist - part 4 of 6

in which Yoongi comes clean

yoongi x reader

word count: around 3000

author's note: Yoongi's pov present

music: let me know by bts, instant lover by aleph

For the three weeks, Yoongi was hoping you'd call. He didn't hope for his baby, his favorite dog, to fall ill, or get hit by a car. But maybe... maybe he'd do something so unbearably funny that you'd want to call him on video and show. So he'd see your face. Hear your voice. He was feeling something apart from irritation and stress for the first time in a while, and it was good. Warm curling snake in his stomach, clear view inside his head. He knew he had to do something about it. Because at first, this feeling was like a mosquito bite. Stang and wouldn't let him focus on things, and he tried to shoo it away, but once he woke up at night to discover that it has spread into his body. He hadn't seen you for the whole September and then four months after, and somehow the imprint of your face was stuck on the inside of his eyelid. He still chuckled when he thought of Namjoon's birthday, and it bothered him. Finally he realized it's actually good. It felt right. A human to a human, what's so criminal about it? Doesn't he deserve someone smiling at him?

He cherished the feeling so rare for him, understanding it doesn't happen often, and he honored it, decided he has to know. The dogsitting op moved slowly and was kind of disappointing. Nothing happened, except he knew Holly was in good hands. The fact that he had to drive all the way to Daegu, beg his parents to give Holly up for a month, and then drive back all in the same day, still seemed a little insane to him. He hoped it didn't put a strain on the dog.

So, he decided that once he returns and sees you again, he'll ask you out. For once his idol card might be useful, he didn't care, if it helps him, then fine. He just needs one chance.

You didn't call. You texted him diligently, every other day, updating him about Holly. His camera roll once again was full of his dog's pictures which also felt right. He only wished you'd want to hear his voice like he wanted to hear yours.

He had big hopes for a show. If seventy thousand girls lose their freaking minds when he tilts his head and smiles, then surely one will be moved by it, too. The vibration of the floor, the loud music, him together with his band, this was the peak of what he could be. There was nothing else he could give. It's been three weeks of texts from you, and now he finally got to see you again after the show. He searched for the confirmation in the subtle movements of the other members, as if they could know. To some extent, they did. They were aware that Y/N was coming to see the show tonight. Namjoon was very happy about it, in his usual sibling way. That's great! Platonic and pure. Yoongi saw that there was nothing between him and you. Minji probably had knitted that out of the air, and the socials follow was friendly. If there had been something, Yoongi would've bowed his head and stepped away. He hoped he would have.

As he left the stage, the throbbing in his chest just started. The anxiety just now hit him. His heart was beating in huge gulps with the adrenaline and exhaustion, and yet his head only started spinning now. He puffed a portion of it away, wearing his usual post-show face: happy, relaxed, content with himself. He walked in line behind Jin and looked around once the stage and her blinding glow, and deafening wail, was out of sight. He spotted you hiding in the cavity between the two now-empty equipment boxes, in the shadow. People were running to and fro, the post-performance commotion in full. Somewhere, a bottle of champagne popped, and he nodded at Jin asking to scurry a glass aside for him. He stepped away from the course and waved at you.

You watched Yoongi emerge from blue light. Your heart was pumping fresh blood that was about to burst out of your nose because of how tense you'd been. The environment was so new, and you didn't have Minji with you to pacify you. And also this one, lower lip in between his teeth, still high from stage on which he just totally, completely shattered your world just half an hour ago. Your mouth went dry. Drama.

"Hey! How was it?"

Yoongi stood before you, glistening with sweat, his eyes wide open, wolfcut styled to compliment the shape of his face, and so picture-like that he could be a hologram.

"How was it!" you couldn't utter anything, "well, you guys suck, that's what I tell you!"

You slurred on your words trying not to sound too insane. Thankfully, Yoongi saw through you and gave the widest smile. Everything slowed down like in a music video. You felt like a goddamn overgrown princess while he smiled at you. People moved around, the light flickered, sounds drowned you, and he was the only stable thing, smiling so wide that he looked like a child.

"I get it now, I mean, the BTS thing, it's massive".

"Yeah? Did you see when I", he imitated his own gesture when he dropped the microphone at the end of a song you didn't know the title of.

"Yes. Badass. I don't know what else to say. It was really cool. You were all synchronized completely, the whole time. Whoever does your choreography is a lunatic".

He continued with laughter,

"It's Hoseok".

"O-o-oh".

He was still panting a little, mouth slightly open. You wanted out of here, your mind clutching you in iron fixators. Someone called his name, shrieking:

"Yoongii-i-i-iee-eah!"

You hoped he would fuck off and stop torturing you with his agape mouth, with glistening tongue mindlessly slithering inside, but he completely ignored it.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say. I am really impressed".

He nodded like he was hungry for your words.

"Hey, if you wait a little, we..."

His chest heaved with a huge breath he took, and you put your hand up between you:

"I need to go home to Holly. I'm- I don't need to be here, I mean, you probably have your post-show routine".

He gave several small nods and finally closed his mouth. The huge body in front of you, the things it did for two hours straight, it should be dead now, but it wasn't.

"Yeah, of course. I'll pick up Holly in two days, alright?"

You agreed and thanked him for letting you see the show. You bowed to each other like you usually did, only, Yoongi still seemed agitated. As he was leaving, you said,

"Hey, tell everybody I said hi, and that you're great!"

He smiled again.

"I will".

You had to think about it straight. You didn't want freshly used goods and you didn't want anybody whose dick used to be inside your best friend. Simple. Minji meant much more to you. She was your comfort and your shelter, and your happy person. She was the protective shield around you against the world. You picked her up like a... human pet, and now she was yours. Yoongi wouldn't take it away. His stupid low voice wasn't worth it.

You bit your lips clean off and got to the meat by the time he came around. You were looking forward to never seeing him again and recuperating after him. God forbid they get married.

Minji looked happier than ever these days, so you didn't hold your breath. And even though she refused to speak about her affair, you saw that Yoongi did her well; she was only worried about her brother's reaction.

You gathered and packed Holly's things with a small sad spot glaring in your chest. He was a very good dog: sleeping with you at night, helping the quality of your sleep. Walking close to you on the street and always looking at you with these beady eyes. He wiggled his tail so hard that it hit against the furniture, and was playful like a little puppy. Yoongi took good care of him because he was a very happy and naive, carefree dog. It made you respect him a lot. Now it was time for Holly to go home, and you asked yourself, when there's a next tour - and it will come sooner or later - will he call you again?

Yoongi expressed a very similar thought that you had just an hour before he arrived:

"You should get a pet. They help a lot with PTSD".

You nodded gratefully,

"I slept very well with him. I actually feel less tired".

Yoongi raised his face and smiled.

"I can rent him to you from time to time".

He let Holly lick his face so that the dog calms down seeing his dad return. Yoongi wouldn't want to get one on the mouth, so he winced funnily and turned a little away from his long pink tongue.

"Listen, I'm sorry for how I acted after the show".

The eyes opened wide.

"I was honestly flabbergasted and really had no words".

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything. I'm just glad I set the record straight".

"Hmm?"

Yoongi smiled sheepishly.

"Every citizen of Seoul has been to a BTS concert at least once".

You chuckled.

"I wanna go see PSY now".

"I can arrange that", he said simply, and you got seriously impressed. Maybe not then, maybe you'll buy a ticket like people usually did.

"Can you help me get his things downstairs?"

Together, you went out of the flat, leaving Holly inside for now, hands full of his food, towels, blankets, his sleeping pillow, toys and clothes. You weren't even surprised to see Yoongi's Range Rover sitting out of place on your narrow street. The car was just too big and too clean for it. He took Holly's things out of your hands, brushing his fingers against the back of your palm. You felt like you had to ask something, make conversation, but instead, just kept silent.

You kept silent on the way back up in the elevator.

You kept silent when you opened the door to your apartment and let him in behind you. He gave you a moment to say goodbye to Holly.

"I am serious. If you want, I can give you contacts of a good shelter".

"I have always been a cat owner", you mused, "you don't need to walk cats in the morning".

"They have cats, too".

You got to your knees, and Holly, already used to your touch, and your face, put its snout on yours.

"I will miss you, Holly", you uttered and realized it was an actual problem. The withdrawal from having a pet in your apartment, and then not having it, was going to be real. It would get lonelier than before, by a fraction.

"You can always go on a date with him", Yoongi said in his usual low voice. You thought that somehow his English improved over three weeks.

"Or with me", he added.

Your throat got tense. For a second you looked at Yoongi from your knees, then stood up sharply. His mouth formed a straight line as he hid his lips, shy. He didn't blink and looked you straight in the face, making it impossible to pretend you didn't hear it.

"Oh hell no", you snapped. Your breath became hot in your nostrils. Yoongi's eyebrows flew up, eyes so innocent it was nauseating.

"Oh-kay".

His eyes were searching the rest of your face.

"You don't have to be that mean about it".

He finally dropped his gaze but still didn't budge.

"I love Minji too much. She is important to me", you said coldly. The same vigor in your fist that once made you pick up a soju bottle. Yoongi frowned and looked up again, acting amusingly confused.

"Minji? What's she got to do with this?"

"Tsk".

"What?"

"She told me about your relationship".

Now he looked scared.

"We're friends?"

"Sleeping with no strings attached is still a relationship, Yoongi".

If he could, Yoongi would probably detach his eyeballs and throw them at you, that how far his brow went.

"Mwo?" he almost yelled. No, he did yell. His mouth formed a perfect O. So local, perfect. Holly got scared because Yoongi probably never yelled in his presence. You blinked.

"Get out. Don't fuck with me", you demanded, and Yoongi changed his pose, putting one foot in front, so that you wouldn't be able to ram him out of the apartment even if you tried.

"Hold on", he said, his voice so high now that it must hurt his throat.

"Having sex with Minji?"

With his free hand, as he still held Holly's leash, he took out his phone. His sculpted face was slowly turning into expression of a stone. He avoided looking at you directly and only blinked blankly while he waited.

"Minji-ah!" he yelled again and crunched his nose like Minji could see him. This was all a little much for you. You were confused so hard that you barely understood the fast rap-like speech he gave her on the phone. Maybe he was scolding her for cracking their dirty secret to you. Maybe he was asking when he started sleeping with her, because he had no idea. You were hyperventilating a bit.

"Please leave", you said weakly, trying to push him in the shoulder. Yoongi moved your fist with the back of his hand.

"Wait. Wait a second. Minji!"

He turned on the speaker on his phone and looked at you. However, he was speaking with the girl.

"Minji!"

"Oh my god!" the phone nearly got torn apart with her squeal, "What the fuck you thought I was sleeping with Yoongi? I am so sorry, Y/N!"

Your heart dropped. You felt stupid. You were panting.

"I am so dumb! I was so drunk I must have told you it was Yoongi? Did I? Y/N, we never slept! Ew, he is my hyung!"

Yoongi was silently staring at you as if this whole thing was your fault somehow.

"It's Jin!"

Now he suddenly looked at the phone, dumbfounded.

"You're sleeping with Seokjin?"

"Yes, yes", she clarified, "is Y/N there? I can't hear her, is she there?"

"I'm here", you managed to utter, the walls of your throat glued together.

"We were sitting, remember? And Yoongi must have been in my sight, I was trying to say Jin, and I said Yoongi because I looked at him! No! No! He really likes you!"

Yoongi's ears went a little pink. But he was still in shock from hearing what he heard.

"You and Jin?" he repeated, "Does Namjoon know?"

"No", she said timidly. "Anyway, do you hear? He likes you, I even-"

Yoongi's swift finger pressed End and the call went silent. You couldn't look at each other for some time, but he was braver.

"Please leave", you said again, numb. The only sound was him unlocking and opening the door and Holly's steps. You hadn't cut his nails because you didn't know how. Yoongi's stare was still blank as he closed the door behind him, head low, like he was about to bow to you.

Minji nearly went crazy with guilt. You had a video call that afternoon, as soon as she had a free minute at work, and she rattled on about how she nearly messed everything up.

You watched her small hand with delicate nails cover her face. The gem in the ring on her middle finger (her own gift to herself for being the baddest bitch) flickered with white flash. For how knows which time in a row you thought that she seemed like a premium version of a human.

"I am so du-hu-humb!" she whined, "I am never getting drunk again!"

"You are", you retorted. Still didn't know how to feel. The weight of phantom guilt which turned out to be baseless after all, still had a grip on you, and in a twisted way, it was turning you off from Yoongi. You needed a big push now. It still felt really wrong, like his image was smeared.

"You see, he came to be after Hobi's birthday", she explained. The corridor with glass walls was flying behind her as she walked fast, searching for a vacant room to sit down.

"He said, I can't stop thinking about her".

Your heart fluttered somewhere in your stomach, an impulse so strong that you actually felt pain and wiggled, lying on your bed.

"Really? Are you for real?"

"Yes, I had no idea but he really liked you, like almost from the very beginning!" her eyes were huge on your screen. "And I was so stupid because I told him you liked Namjoon..."

You moaned.

"Minji... you pulled it out of me at the party".

"I know, I know, but I had to make sure, because who needs a love triangle! But then I reckoned you just said it because I pressed you. But Yoongi was like, super hesitant then. Then I told him you don't like my brother".

You did like him. Just, not the romantic way. Minji rolled her eyes at herself and continued,

"God, how did I manage to mess this up? Yoongi is a naturally hesitant person, you know. He takes time to make decisions. I don't wanna say he's slow or anything... but he did take six months to make a move on you, you see".

"Why did you tell me you were having sex with him..." you muttered. Minji gasped in suffering, theatrically. You suddenly thought that it's pretty similar to how Hoseok gasped sometimes, with a flare of overplaying it.

"I was so drunk... literally, I was pointing at Jin. And you were looking at Yoongi. I think I barely heard you, I thought you saw where I was pointing!"

You buried your face into the blanket and stopped breathing. You were, all three of you, in your thirties. How embarrassing: fools all round. No, not Yoongi. He was completely innocent in this. Did nothing wrong, was perfectly adequate and comfortable to be around. And he paid the most, for the both of you. You lifted your face, one eye wrinkled by the force you were pressing it into the bed. Minji was tensely looking into the camera at you.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Do you like him? He was trying so hard".

"I kicked him out, Minji".

She shook her head violently.

"Just drop him a text".

You chewed your lips hard, realized: there's no need to lie to yourself anymore, you can cautiously step out of this cage.

"I really really like him. He is so handsome, Minji. I was feeling so fucking guilty for liking him, because I thought you're DATING!" you yelled the last part, and Minji made the most adorable empathizing face.

"I am sorry... but that's awesome though, right?"

"Minji, is that why I was the dogsitter?" it suddenly dawned on you.

"Well, yes".

"Are you even allergic to dogs?"

"...no".

You turned around onto your back. The sun was filling the bedroom, empty without Holly's click-clack steps and quiet whining. The boy had a habit to hum under his breath like his dad. It was the first dog that liked to sing, that you've ever seen.

"You know what, I won't get further into this", Minji decided, "I feel like I've done enough. He is so angry with me. You're adults, work it out. Text him. I promise he is great".

You noticed that much. Yoongi knew how to keep his distance while teasing himself to you carefully. Knew his way around words, and even the way he used English, so focused on avoiding mistakes, never giving himself a break with the phonetics of it, was very appealing to you. You had a feeling he didn't just ask about the books you liked, to say something. That he really memorized stuff about you, even if he wasn't sure he'd need it. He almost seemed too good to be true.

You lay on your bed, body still unused to not having Holly in your hands. Miraculous how quickly you adjust to having a pet. Maybe you'll get to see him more and cuddle him again.

You spent your Sunday in thinking, and would've spent the whole night before a working week pondering how you can apologize to Yoongi without being needy, or if he will even want to talk to you. But in the evening, your phone screen lit up with a message which knocked the breath out of you. So, here we are, Y/N, you thought to yourself, huh. No drama, huh. That's how we react now to messages from him.

You tried to look at yourself from a perspective. He is an idol, someone you swore to never get involved with, even hypothetically. You were still sure the amount of headache this connection will entail will come back to bite you. You had no idea about the depth of trouble. With that, you took your phone.

I'm sorry I like you

It took away a lot of pride to tell him that he didn't have to apologize; your selflessness towards people usually manifested in acts of service, like saving their life or buying them a coffee; but you weren't good with words. So, when you texted him that phrase, you felt like you were growing, and actually had to make the choice to be serious about it. As long as he was. You decided to go on a date. You made a confession: I don't really like coffee. I'm more of a bubble-tea person. Yoongi took it well, like everything else.

I know a place I will pick you up from work on Tuesday, right?

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Sfw and nsfw HCs Poly relationship of Bakugou and Kirishima with their female reader?

An explosive combination!

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki/DynaMight, Kirishima Eijirou/Red Riot

Contents: poly!relationship, feminine pet names, afab reader, nsfw, oral, biting,

Bakugou Katsuki/DynaMight & Kirishima Eijirou/Red Riot

SFW

I'm going to go ahead and give Kirishima the credit for getting this little throuple together, because there's no damn way it was Bakugou. He's too hot-headed and there are too many feelings involved in the whole thing for him to sit down and think it through. Especially if there's been some jealousy and some miscommunications in the run-up to The Discussion.

So it was basically you and Kirishima who approached Bakugou and suggested giving the whole polyamory thing a try.

For a few minutes he just squints at the two of you, trying to work out if he should be pissed off or not. You wanna date him and Kirishima. What the hell, are you trying to say he's not enough for you?! Wait, but doesn't this mean he gets what he wants and he doesn't have to watch Kirishima mope around like some kind of boulder puppy?

Once he's done working through the Five Stages of Whatever, he turns a wicked grin on you.

"You think you need two guys to keep you satisfied? We'll see about that. Don't you dare underestimate me!"

"Dude, chill, it's not a contest," Kirishima says, trying to calm him down.

"Yeah? Sounds like loser talk to me."

And that was how your relationship started.

Given their busy schedules as Pro Heroes, it's likely you all live together to split the household chores and just to get an opportunity to see each other between missions and patrols. Bakugou had the nicest, largest place (and probably Kirishima already as a roommate), so it made sense for you to all move into his apartment. Something he bitched uproariously about, even though he knew it was logical and he actually wanted it too. Being pissy is like a reflex for him.

You got a nice big bed for the three of you. Bakugou rigidly enforces "his side", even if he's out on a night patrol. He grouches that your big head has deflated his pillow if you slept on his side. (And proceeds to shove his face in said pillow the next time he sleeps, 'cause it smells like you now.) You don't get a "side" per se, because your place is in the middle, the filling in the muscle sandwich.

Kirishima's the biggest cuddler, but don't let Bakugou convince you he's not almost as bad. He is, and he'll get moody if you point it out. Let him keep his delusions.

Kirishima wants you to wear his clothes. Those cute sleep sets you keep buying? Mysteriously disappeared (hidden in the linen closet). In their place? A bunch of oversized, faded Crimson Riot or "manly" t-shirts for you to wear to bed. Bakugou might get in on the action and chuck in some of his skull or Deep Dope shirts. Take the hint.

Bakugou's standard of cleanliness is higher than yours or Kirishima's. He's not the type to set up a cleaning rota and shifts though (Iida-like behaviour). He just blows a fuse and attacks it all at once. You'll come home to a spotless apartment and a fuming Bakugou in the kitchen, scrubbing the dishes. Picture Explosion Murder God: DynaMight in a pair of yellow rubber gloves.

He has different reactions to mess for you or Kirishima. If he finds Kirishima's socks on the bedroom floor, he'll ball them up and toss them as his friend's head. "Pick up after yourself, rockbrain." If they're yours, he'll still throw them at Kirishima's head, but address you instead: "Don't be so fucking lazy, babe."

I'd say all of you are fairly decent in the cooking department, but Bakugou's irrepressible competitive streak always gives him the edge. The stuff he cooks always looks the best, but he leans into his spices a little too much. A little too hot saucy. Kirishima can only really do basic stuff, but he knows all the good takeout places in the city—Fatgum showed him.

Movie nights are usually action movies. Wanna watch something different for once? Yell louder than the boys.

When it comes to gifts, Kirishima's are the cute and heartfelt, whereas Bakugou's tend to be cool, flashy, and expensive.

There's fitness equipment cluttering up what used to be Kirishima's room, and loads of tubs of whey protein and bulking powder in the kitchen. The guys are fitness freaks.

You're definitely a little spoiled. You just have to even vaguely move in the direction of the couch and there'll be someone grabbing your hips, pulling you down into their lap. It's a rare occasion when you sit on an actual chair.

NSFW

Oh, boy.

Let's begin by stating that, yes, your sex life is off-the-charts amazing. Bakugou and Kirishima are both young, strong, red-blooded guys with big personalities and dangerous jobs. There's a lot of testosterone, a lot of adrenaline, and a lot of man to go around. Their libidos are insane.

At the start of the relationship, sex tends to be a one-on-one kind of thing. You and Bakugou. You and Kirishima. But one thing led to another, and... Well, actually, Bakugou heard all those cute little noises Kirishima was drawing out of you in the bedroom, and he didn't feel like sitting in the living room playing video games anymore. Bakugou stalked into the bedroom, stripping off his shirt and growling that he wasn't gonna sit there like a cuck. It tends to be a group activity now.

You get groped. A lot.

As aforementioned, you'll be sitting on Bakugou or Kirishima's lap, and their hand will slide up to get a soft handful of titty, massaging it lightly through the fabric of your shirt. Bakugou in particular likes to slide one of his hands into your panties and just let it rest there, his calloused fingertip playing idly with your clit while he's watching a movie or an All Might documentary. When you start squeaking, it's time to hit pause, toss you over his shoulder, and take you to the bedroom, Kirishima whistling casually as he follows.

Trying to get from the bathroom to the bedroom after a shower is like running a gauntlet. When you're warm and dewy and smelling all fruity, it's like catnip to your boyfriends. You dodge Bakugou's casual swipe from the couch, gripping your towel as you almost make it to the bedroom. Only for Kirishima to block the doorway, grinning like a shark.

"Heeey, babe. Goin' somewhere?"

When you step back, you bump up against Bakugou's chest, who has silently crept up behind you. Great, now you're gonna need another shower by the time they're done.

Kirishima likes to bite. He's extra careful 'cause of his sharp teeth, but he likes to leave imprints on the fat of your inner thighs, biting down just enough to give you an exciting little pinch.

Bakugou's big on oral. He likes clamping your thighs around his head, his pulse racing in his ears while he lashes your clit with his tongue, sucking aggressively. He makes a lot of aggressive grunts and growls when he goes down on you, sounding like he's actually hungry. He doesn't stop until you're slippery wet after a couple orgasms, and he emerges wild-eyed, panting, his mouth and chin dripping with you.

Kirishima's a bit more versatile in bed. He can do the fun, loud sex that has you bouncing on the mattress, or the slow, intense, romantic sex where you're staring into each other's eyes.

Bakugou fucks. He bends you like a pretzel, hitting it hard and deep, his hands curled into fists either side of your head so he doesn't accidentally set off any explosions. Sex with him is hot, hard, sweaty, and primal. He's the one that gets you screaming (along with the ensuing noise complaints), biting, and clawing. He wears your nail drag marks with smug pride.

I hope you guys got that bed on a warranty, because their competitive streak follows you into the bedroom too. They keep a tally of who made you come and how many times before you tap out.