#normally im crawling out of my skin when i take one if im not /moving/

[loveydovey-leviathan]

"𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀, 𝑰'𝑴 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑺!"

streamer! leviathan x gn! reader

summary: levi starts a stream right after you put lipstick on

cw: one mention of being eaten, he’s obsessed w/ you what can i say, ooc levi, also im 90% sure this should be tagged yandere lol

🍉 from the river to the sea, Palestine will be free 🇵🇸. this account stands with Palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and/or support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. | credit 🍉

.

The embodiment of envy itself sits pretty on his gaming chair, looking up at you and following your movements in a daze. He doesn’t think he has the capacity to do anything right now, let alone start his weekly stream. His entire face is flushed with the cutest pink hue because of all the blood rushing to his face at your affections and every languid kiss you give turns him more and more into the demonification of jelly, but he thinks being eaten by you would be the best way to die. He’d be connected to you in a way no one else would, always with you forever and ever–

“Levi?”

He yelps in the most embarrassing way possible and he immediately wants to crawl down to the Underground Tombs so he would never have to see anyone again, but then you laugh and he realises he wouldn’t be able to see or hear or touch you if he did that. The thought of it makes his very skin melt, or maybe his face just hasn’t calmed down yet.

“Y-Yeah?”

Your smile is teasing, predatory even. Like you know something he doesn’t and you’re going to enjoy every moment of his ignorance. 

“You have a stream to start, don’t you?”

He nods, and your smile grows wider. You give him one last kiss– it’s longer than the others but shorter than he’d like, and he whines when your fingers lightly scratch his nape in the way you know makes him go insane for more of you. It’s over before he has the chance to beg and he sends a longing look your way as you make yourself comfortable in the spot you’ve claimed as yours in his room. Just out of sight from his camera but close enough that he doesn’t have to move much to see you’re still there when he gets nervous.

He takes a few breaths to try and calm himself down and get his head in the game, but thoughts of you linger nonetheless, like a part of you had permanently embedded yourself into his very being. Levi figures this condition is the best he can get before he’s really late, so he starts the stream as he is.

He doesn’t notice anything different at first, but he’s too focused on making it look like everything is normal and that he isn’t still obsessing over you to notice what his chat is saying. He plays through the game he’s chosen as usual for a good while, becoming invested in the gameplay before he finally has a chance to rest in-game. It’s only now that he realises he hasn’t looked at the live chat since he started, and what he sees makes him want to pass out.

@/lover-b0y: LMAOO HE STILL HASN’T NOTICED

@/sweeti3s: you need to check the mirror before you start your stream my guy 😭

@/crystal-empire: do you think he did this on purpose?

@/loneeerrrr: way to make me feel single 😥😥

Levi immediately ducks under the desk in a frenzy and pulls out his rarely-used camera app, and what he sees can’t possibly be him. His entire face is covered in lipstick marks– from his cheeks to his nose to his eyes– but it’s especially bad on his lips. It’s smeared like crazy and it’s glaringly obvious to anyone who looks at him that he just had a make-out session. 

He sits under his table as he struggles to figure out what to do– brain going a mile a minute but still getting nowhere. But then he feels you staring and he looks up to see you sitting right next to him with your head lowered to not hit yourself against the desk.

His mind struggles to register anything but you. You’re with him and you’re so close he can smell the very essence of you. He’s envious of the very clothes on your back, of your lungs and your ribs and your intestines because why doesn’t he get to be that close to you?

“I turned off your stream.”

Your voice tunes out everything for him, but he musters up a “thank you…” in response.

You look empathetic when you apologise. “I’m sorry, was that too much for you?”

It was too much but not enough at the same time. He wishes you hadn’t pulled this stunt but he’s ecstatic that you did. He wishes you kissed him on stream, he hopes you leave a mark every time he goes out but he also wants to keep this side of you to himself. Why should anyone else get to see the affection you’ve given him? It’s his and his alone but the other part sees this as you claiming him as yours, and it’s a title he wants everyone to know.

“Levi, you okay?”

“Will you kiss me?” he blurts out.

It doesn’t matter how many times he asks, but you always respond with a smile too soft for someone like him. It melts every barrier he could ever put up and he welcomes everything you do to him with open arms, but all he feels is lips so perfectly moulded to fit against his own that he knows you’re the only one he’ll ever want so carnally.

[ddaisyvision]

𝐆𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄! | 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈

𝐚/𝐧: im back bitches and it feels great! writing this was real fun. i was smokin a lil weed, listening to music and then gimme more by britney spears came on and thus this was born. it was supposed to be a mini fic but.. i got a lil carried away lmao. enjoy my babies! 💋

𝐜𝐰: pervy!denji, sleazy!denji, stripper!reader (your stripper name is diamond btw), fem!bodied, heavy petting, sloppy kissing, alcohol use, raw penetrative sex, breeding(?)| 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧)

Even in his twenties, Denji was still a perverted loser. He may have been a great devil hunter; but his lust for women kept him anchored on distraction. Tits. Pussy. Asses. The fat of their thighs spreading when they sit. The way they smell; so sweet like flowers or a piece of decadent dessert. The allure of femininity alone scratched an itch within him. 

So is it any surprise that Denji’d be spending his nights at the local strip club? Every Friday; his only day off a week, he’d be sat with his ones in tow sitting in the front row of the stage every bit of gitty. He was like a teenage boy, already undressing the half dressed dancers that walked around the dimly lit club with his hungry eyes. 

“Alright gentlemen! This girl’s a newcomer to our club tonight, so open your wallets and please give a warm welcome to the gorgeous Diamond!”

Denji’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw you, walking achingly slow towards the middle of the big pink stage. You were dressed in all baby blue; soft white accents of your outfit making you look every bit of angelic. Your breasts were adorned in a sparkly bikini-like top, the twinkle of every rhinestone calling attention to the audience like a flare in the sky. His eyes were then fixated onto your navel where a heart shaped charm hung ever so dainty. His gaze traveled down to your soft legs as they wrapped around the pole, a vision of those same legs wrapped around his waist as he took you quickly coming to mind. 

Denji’s now fighting the agitating urge to palm himself through his jeans, his cock now painfully hard as he watched you grind and shake your plump ass on the pole. Your body seemed to float when you danced, a mix of seduction and grace that was quite impressive for an amateur. Your routine landed you on the floor of the stage, crawling towards the man that looked to be her biggest fan already.

Denji swallowed his nerves and braced himself as you got closer, eyes immediately falling to your cleavage. As you sensually touch your body in front of him, grinding and arching your back for his viewing pleasure, Denji’s hands start to stuff money right in between your breasts. You can’t help but giggle at his eagerness to show his appreciation for you, so you turn around and wiggle your ass in his face, Denji’s cheeks now bloodshot red. His lust was so obvious, hands touching every bit of skin he could before your routine was over.

You liked him. You didn’t know why but you did. He tipped you so nicely and his hands felt so good on your skin it almost lit you ablaze. You both seem to get lost in the moment as you let him explore your curves, softly gasping when his slender fingers ghost past your pussy. It was a cheeky move that caught you by surprise, touching this salacious normally granted in a gentle ass-whooping by security. Luckily no one saw.

Long after your dance, you and Denji continued the party in one of the luxe VIP rooms in the back. One glass of champagne led to another and suddenly you were both all over each other. Denji may have had to dip into his savings a bit to afford you but god were you worth every cent. You were sat in his lap tasting him, your tongues swirling together to take each other in. His teeth gently tug at your bottom lip as he reluctantly pulls back, his hands speaking more than he might have been. He starts to knead at your breasts, tugging the fabric of your top aside to reveal your soft mounds. Denji moans as if he’d just slipped inside you at the sight of your puffy nipples, taking his time licking and sucking and tugging at each one with sloppy noises following every motion. Heat started to rise from between your legs, essence oozing from your pussy as your mouth hangs agape. You really want to keep quiet. Sex wasn’t allowed in the VIP rooms but so long as the customers paid, no one seemed to mind. 

“We can’t, baby, not in here.” You purr directly into his ear. Each hair at the back of Denji’s neck stands, your sweet voice causing his already aching cock to twitch and leak furiously. The thought of not getting what he paid for struck a chord in Denji. 

“C’mon. Might as well gimme somethin’.” Denji pulls this line out of his back pocket, trying not to sound desperate but the teasing is killing him at this point. All he can think of is burying his cock deep inside your gorgeous pussy and fucking you until you both see stars. You take one look into his puppy dog eyes and swoon, taking a hand to dotingly stroke his angry cock through his pants. You erupt into a fit of giggles as you watch him flinch and buck his hips up to meet your hands for more friction. 

“Fine. You’re lucky you’re cute...” 

Any more foreplay would have the both of you erupting with just one touch, lips crashing into each other for one sloppy mess of a drunken kiss. Both your hands get tangled together as you try to take off Denji’s jeans, the sound of his belt buckle hitting the hardwood floor with a clank. The sexual tension between the two of you was suffocating as if you couldn’t get to each other fast enough. Finally Denji’s cock sprung free from the confines of his clothes. It was surprisingly big. Not too lengthy with the right amount of girth. His poor cock had been leaking so much the front of Denji’s boxers were soaking wet. Had he already cum?

Your sultry eyes drink him in, sliding your panties out of the way as your feet plant down on either side of his legs on the long lounge chair. Your sopping cunt is now hovering over his lonely tip, your pretty hand wrapped around his length to keep him still. As you slowly sink down you can feel the slickness of your pussy coating him, the two of you moaning in sync at the sensation. The delicious pressure caused you to bite your lip to keep the noise at a minimum, sitting all the way down as Denji’s face lay snugly between your cleavage. He’s already losing his mind, his fingers digging indents into the skin of your hips to lift you up and down on his cock, you following his rhythm by bouncing up and down. Fuck he filled you so nicely, causing your legs to shake with every bounce of your hips. Hell, you could barely keep yourself up, Denji’s learned a thing or two from all those pornos he spends his spare time reading, licking the tip of his thumb to flick at your swollen bud. You can feel yourself clench around him as he touches you there, your moans becoming more and more difficult to keep them down. 

“Haah, fuck, haaaah.” Denji moans, almost louder than you. 

His voice was shaky, breath uneven. You can hear bits and pieces of how good your pussy feels, how badly he wants to cum inside you; but it’s hard to make out. You can tell he’s close; you were too. You stop your hips and let his lust drive his movement, his hips thrusting upwards without you having to direct him. Your hands find themselves in Denji’s hair, holding him closely as you come undone for him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your entire body sits limp in Denji’s grasp. It doesn’t take much longer for Denji to follow suit, his cock finally finding the release it had been craving since the moment he saw you. He fucks his seed into you without a thought behind his eyes besides cumming. Fits of ‘oh fuck’s and ‘shit’ flood from his lips as his head hangs back in the seat, facing the ceiling. His hot sticky cum flooded your walls, some even leaking and dripping all over the chair beneath you two as you watched him get off with satisfied eyes. 

“You’re cute when you cum.” You say to him, trying to catch your breath as you fit a small giggle in between. Denji smiles, his head finally rising again to look you in your eyes.

“See you next Friday?” He asks with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. You can’t help but laugh.

“For sure.”

[loveswrites]

Do you know when you’re going to post your next Poly Volturi? (Absolutely no rush btw take your time and always focus on you and your health first🫶) I was just wondering cause i miss you 🫶

(i don’t have any intention of sounding rude or anything im just wondering and i definitely dont wanna rush you and i ofc want you to take your time and ofc it’s important to focus on yourself first ALWAYS🫶🫶)

Nightmare Poly Volturi x reader

Time it took me: 5 hours

Word count: 2023

To anon: Hello lovely! I'm sorry for the wait it's been like a month since my last post but I've come to give you a little gift! Hope you like it! Thank you so much for your reassurance, You didn't sound rude at all I understand I was gone a LONG time. I'm surprised I even wrote this today my mind was so foggy I haven't really had a good day so I thought I'd put a smile on someone else's!

Love <3

p.s I also tried to find that spongebob meme in a gif but I couldn't find it for some reason lmk if you get it when you read it!

Turning a sharp corner your hip grazed against the cold cobblestone walls of the castle. Causing you to suck in a strong gasp of air. Rubbing your hand against the throbbing pain you felt something wet. Twisting your face up in confusion you couldn't tell what it was. There was a storm and the castle was as dark as it's ever been. The candles Cauis ordered to be lit every set of the sun for you weren't lit like they normally are. If one candle blew out, rather you were there or not he would have someone's head not long after.

"You smell delicious." You heard from no other than the exact one you were thinking about. Caius.

Still a little confused, your eyes widened. Blood. You were bleeding and Cauis was chasing you.

Resuming your slow steps turned into a fast pace run. Well as fast as you could. Your eyes burned with tears as you could hear Caius' steps quicken. Why was he doing this, you thought. Doesn't he love you? 

"Are you frightened little human?" Cauis hissed out with so much venom you could taste it. 

"Please stop-" You were cut off with a scream crawling out of your throat as a strong sound of thunder and lightning struck.

"Your fear reeks a phenomenal scent. I can't wait to taste you." He sneered out letting out a chilling chuckle. 

You couldn't stop the tear that ran down your cheek with his statement. All you could feel was your heart pounding in your chest, So much you thought it would run into overdrive and stop. With the halls darken you ran with what little memory you could collect right now.  Your brain was foggy. Your heart was hurt. And your face was stained with tears of fear. You never thought that you would die like this. The more you ran the more you realized that this was a loop. You had been running around in a circle this whole time and Cauis was still chasing you. 

"Help Me! Jane! Alec! Please don't do this Caius! You're scaring me!" You screamed out looking back for the first time since you started running.

 He was right there. 

Pricing red eyes stared back at you menacingly.

The only sound you could get out of your mouth was a gasp. He grabbed you by your arms in a tight unbreakable grip. So tight you thought your bones would snap. You never did take your vitamins as a kid you thought. Before you could say another word he bared his fangs and snapped down on your neck. You let out a strong scream. It was so loud it echoed and bounced off the walls. You could feel your own blood wetting your skin rolling down your once warm body. As much as you struggled you couldn't move. As much as you screamed you could no longer make sound. All you felt was your life being drained from your body. Mustering all of your strength you screamed the loudest you could with little life you had left. 

"Mio caro!? Wake up è solo un sogno!" A voice sounded.

Snapping your eyes open, you saw him. Screaming once against you pushed off of him blinded to your surroundings. You fell down onto a cold marble floor it hurt but you could care less right now. Anything to get away from him.

"Don't touch me! S-stay away from me! J-Jane! Where are you!?" You screamed out tears already rolling down your face. Still crawling away from Caius you kept your eyes on him the best you could with blurred vision. 

"What-" Cauis started but was cut off by your words.

"Don't talk to me, leave me alone! Jane! W-where's Jane!? Jane! Jane!!" You cried screaming at the top of your lungs. 

Everyone's attention snapped to the door as Jane busted through the door. Her piercing red eyes were filled with anger ready to unleash hell on anyone that dared to hurt what is hers. 

"What happened!" She snapped sharp eyes staring down everyone who was in the room. She saw no threat but that didn't mean there wasn't one.

You were in the throne room as you always were half the time. Everyone knew you loved laying upon the throne with Caius. You were often there with him during most trails. It was convenient because most of the time all of your mates were there also. So hearing your screams come from this room of all places put Jane on guard. 

"We don't know she was just resting as she always is, then woke up screaming." Marcus stated.

"She's very frightened and the first one so called out for was you. Go to her, Slowly.” Aro said making sure to speak softly.

She listened, making sure to take slow and soft steps towards you. When she was finally in front of you she kneeled down to your level as you had backed yourself into a corner. 

“Who scared you?” She asked, trying her best to not sound too demanding but failing miserably. 

You reached out and wrapped your arms around her tightly, crying hard.

“Please don’t let him hurt me.” You whispered into her neck. A whisper so low that she had to try to listen. 

“Who is trying to hurt you?” She whispered back wrapping her arms around you. Doing her best to console you as physical touch is still a hard thing for her.

“C-caius he bit me he was trying to kill me.” You said still shaking as the scene replayed in your head over and over again.

“Well I guess we know who won't be turning her.” Felix snickered, earning a shove from dem.

“Silence!” Cauis ordered, making Felix shut up immediately. His loud tone made you jump and brung more tears to your eyes. Jane continued to comfort you, whispering calming and promising words in your ear.

“Go on, tell me what else happened.” She beckoned.

“I was trying to run away from him b-because he was chasing me. I didn’t know why until I realized that I was bleeding and he wasn’t chasing me to help me. He was chasing me to bring more h-harm to me. I was going in circles and I couldn’t find a way out! There wasn’t a way out but I kept trying and trying but he still got me and- He drained me of everything inside of me.. I can still feel his bite. It hurts, why does it hurt?” You whimpered out sniffling every few words. You held onto Jane tighter in fear she would let you go.

It was silent for a while. No one in the room knew quite what to say. Or what you needed to hear. But the one thing they all knew was that no matter how much Cauis would threaten or yell at you he would lay down his life for you. And if he ever laid a harmful hand on you the rest of you mates would deal with him no matter the consequences. One little human held so much power. 

“It was just a nightmare, you're safe. He would never hurt you. And if he did I’d kill him myself.” Jane said firmly. 

Her words brung comfort to you. Jane never lies. Especially to you.  She always says that she has no time for lying. To which you always say she technically has all her life or death to lie. 

“Jane let me see her.” Cauis said leaving no room for arguing.

“Caius.” Marcus said in a warning tone.

“Do you want to face him? I’ll take you away if not.” Jane whispered in your ear. It took a little while for you to answer but eventually you did sadly. You truly weren't ready to face him but you didn’t want Jane to get in trouble for your newfound fear.

“It’s okay..” You said slowly as if you were trying to convince yourself. 

“Are you sure?” She questioned.

“I’m sure.” You said taking a deep breath when Jane parted from you. Though Jane was freezing cold her cold began to feel warm to you. So when she let you go you couldn’t help but feel naked under the eyes of everyone in the room. A shiver ran down your spine when you finally made eye contact with Caius. His red eyes were intimidating but not as threatening as the ones in your nightmares. In fact his eyes looked.. Concerned, confusion and hurt. That one was a kick to the chest. You hated seeing him hurt but you hated seeing you hurt more. 

“Come here.” Caius said watching you as you took very slow steps to you. Realizing your fear was truly real as you'd normally run to him full of joy. But now you shake with each step. You were never even this scared when you first met. 

Once you were standing in front of him he closed the gap between you two holding onto your hands. Your warm soft ones colliding against his cold hard ones.  

“You truly think I’d ever hurt you on purpose if at all? I’m offended by how lowly you think of me amore mio.” He frowned looking down at you. 

“It was- it felt very real.” You whispered looking down but that didn’t last long as he put his hand under your chin and tilted your head back up to face you.

“If you're frightened do not be cowardly in fear I will not accept it. Especially when I am aware of how fearless you are. It was a horrible dream, a nightmare. One that will never come true.” He said watching you with close eyes.

“I-” You were cut off with his next words.

“You should know that I would never hurt you on purpose. But eventually for you to be with us forever you will have to be turned. But it won't be painful for you. We will ensure it. Alec will use his power to make sure of it.” Caius stated as if this would make you feel better.

“You’ve been conspiring about my death behind my back?” You questioned furrowing your eyebrows.

“More like preparing. You're not getting any younger.” Felix said from behind you.

“Are you serious?” You questioned.

“We’d rather have you dead and with us rather than dead and gone bellissima.” Dem voiced softly in hopes you wouldn’t get upset with the rest of them.

“I feel like this is some type of gaslighting or manipulation.” You said, shaking your head.

“Nevermind that, do you feel better?” Alec asked, deterring your thoughts from this topic.

“I kinda do. I’d still like a little space from you though.” You said looking up at Caius. 

“Only a few days after that you're asking for ungiveable things.” He said letting you go but not before kissing you on your forehead making you freeze momentarily.

“Go get some rest.” He dismissed you.

As you walked away after standing there for a while Jane followed you and right when you grabbed the door Caius words made you stop in your tracks.

“ You shouldn’t be scared of me in that sense. You wouldn’t even be filling, you refuse to take your vitamins Carlisle insists you take.” He yelled out so you could hear. 

You couldn’t help the small laugh that came out of your mouth knowing how true that statement was. For the next few days Jane followed you everywhere. Always on your heels. Sleeping with you, feeding next to you, If she knew you were having a bad dream she’d wake you up right away and take you out for a walk. All until you felt comfortable to be alone with Cauis she was right there by your side. 

And when you finally felt comfortable enough you saw how bad Cauis was taking it through his paintings. He was afraid you would see him as a monster. He knew he was but he never wanted to be that in your eyes. You spent the next few nights showing him how fearless you were of him. Wink wink.

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: second here's an erling fic idea. so as you know norway lost to spain in the euro's match, which means erling will obviously be dejected and quite depressed that his country couldn't make it, so what if his girlfriend takes advantage of the days before the premier league starts, and plans a sweet getaway for the two of them. (@findingnemosworld)

Word Count: 667 words

(author's note: i love writing about erling !!! thank you for another lovely request @findingnemosworld 🫶 im sure my haaland anon will like this as well !!)

International breaks were always difficult. However, the added pain of coming home, knowing your team hadn’t qualified, made it worse. 

Erling sat dejectedly in the changing rooms. The 1-0 loss to Spain meant Norway hadn’t qualified. He felt like he had let his country down. Checking his phone, he saw a text from his girlfriend that read:

‘So proud of you my love! You played amazingly, can’t wait to see you when you get back home <3’

He sighed. Erling knew she was just saying that to make him feel better. Although knowing she thought he played well made him feel immensely better. He said his goodbyes to his teammates and headed back to his hotel to pack his bags.

After the usual airport experience, Erling arrived back in Manchester. He got out of the taxi that had brought him home and knocked on the door of the house he shared with his girlfriend. The cold air of the UK nipped at his skin as he waited for her to open the front door.

Wrapped up in one of his hoodies, Y/N opened the door and threw her arms around her boyfriend. She knew he would be disappointed by the loss and she wanted to make him feel better.

Erling pulled his bags inside and closed the door behind him. His girlfriend looked up at him, her eyes full of sympathy.

“Go take a warm shower and then we can watch some television”, she told him, "It’ll make you feel better, I know you hate flying.”

He nodded wordlessly and moved slowly up the stairs. Erling undressed himself and stepped into the stream of warm water.

His mind was running through all the things he could’ve done differently. He felt fully responsible for their loss in his heart, even though his head was telling him he wasn’t. He finished up in the shower, got dressed, and walked downstairs to where Y/N was sitting down waiting for him. 

The girl opened her arms and gestured for him to come and sit with her. Erling crawled into her outstretched arms and rested his head on her chest. Y/N ran her fingers through his damp, freshly-washed hair.

“It wasn’t your fault, my love. Please don’t blame yourself. You’ll only make yourself feel worse.”

Erling sighed, his eyes stung with unshed tears, “I know, nydelig, I just can’t help but feel I could’ve played better."

Y/N sighed. Her heart hurt for the man she loved so dearly. Erling put his heart and soul into football, and she wished he would recognise when he had done his best.

The next few days were miserable. Erling moped around the house, barely speaking a word to his girlfriend. Y/N had decided to take matters into her own hands. She had booked a getaway to a cabin in a beautiful forest and was about to tell her boyfriend.

“Erling, honey?” She said, knocking on the door to his office. She let herself in, and her boyfriend took his headphones off.

“I have a surprise for you,” She told him, handing an envelope over to him.

“What is it?”

“Open it,” she replied, gesturing towards the envelope that was now in his large hands.

Erling gently ripped open the envelope that he’d been given. He pulled out the piece of paper that was inside and scanned over the text that was written.

“We’re going away?”

“Yes, I think it will be good for you to get away from football for a while and just get back to your normal self. It breaks my heart to see you upset my love.”

Erling got out of his chair and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend. He nestled his head into the crook of her neck and placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder.

“Thank you kjære, thank you for everything.”

The pair remained in each others arms for a while, grateful to have one another to pick them back up when things weren’t perfect.

[sluttyminghao]

congrats on the 7k, you deserve it so much<33 this sleepover is the best thing that’s ever happened to me fr

i feel like im spiralling over one of ur recent posts & i was wondering if you might expand on jihoon eating you out from the back? ilysm!!<33

link to post

as much as you hated to admit it, jihoon was never particularly adventurous in bed. sure, when he fucked you it was otherworldly and you were sore for days after, but it seemed to just be the same stuff over and over.

and frankly, you were bored.

which is when you decided that it would be time to spice it up. after scouring the internet for hours, you purchase everything you would need. and you just had to hope to god that he would actually be home instead of holed up in his studio.

when you hear your apartment door quietly unlock and lock again quickly, you know that jihoon has arrived home. you'd spent hours setting everything up, making sure everything was in perfect order, and his gasps of awe have you giggling from the bedroom.

he follows your quiet giggles and finds you sprawled out on the bed, red lingerie hugging your body with little white silk bows on your lingerie suspenders. he's taken aback, but can't stop the way his cock twitches in his sweats.

"you look so pretty sweetheart," he mumbles, tossing his duffle bag onto the floor and crawling onto the bed between your legs. you grin and move your upper body so that you can lean up to kiss him and pull his shirt collar forward so he's pushed right against your body.

jihoon can feel every inch of your body flush against his own, and with his last ounce of strength, he manages to flip you over so that you're on top. he grins and swivels his finger, and with a quizzical look you turn around on his abdomen, your ass now facing him.

he sits up and takes a handful of each cheek, massaging them and grinning when he hears you sigh. in a quick movement, he slides himself out from under you and hoists your ass up higher in the air, face pressed against the soft blanket.

"you look so pretty baby, but you'll look better when you're crying for my cock"

he removes your panties and wastes no time delving his tongue into your soaked heat, lapping up all your juices greedily. you can feel his nose nudging against your skin as he sucks on your folds, and the angle alone has your body shuddering and your orgasm creeping up faster than normal.

you become too lost in the pleasure that you don't even realize you're slipping until you feel jihoon's strong arms wrap around your waist. he continues to suck and lick down your folds and even manages to stretch his neck out so that he can tease your clit.

"god you taste so fucking good, can't ever get enough."

[sicknessbysalem]

happy lost in heaven album day!! if youve listened by time you answer whats your favorite song? anyway! honestly im so happy to see lex and soren again. can we possibly see something with them? maybe see something of one of them (im biased to lex but… either works) thats gives us an insight into the new lore + emeto obviously! thank you so much!

omg i love you! i think i even deleted the post forever ago talking about how much i love c/hase a/tlantic!!

i have listened to it, multiple times! I think my favorites are HOURS LOST and YOU, but also RICOCHET and DISCONNECTED are bangers!!

i decided to do a semi continuation of this fic but also could just be a standalone, and weaved in some new lore to show where lex and soren are at right now in their relationship as well as lex and his whole situation!

if you have any requests, comments, questions, etc., send them my way! i am so honored to be entrusted with lex and soren and i thoroughly enjoy these boys!!

tw emeto, fevers, trying to hide an illness, panic attacks, references to substance abuse trauma

The sound of the guitar strings hummed softly through the small studio, a melody that was familiar but still searching for its final shape.

Lex sat cross-legged on the couch, hunched slightly over his guitar, his fingers moving deftly across the strings, the faint calluses on his fingertips pressing into each note with a practiced ease.

Soren and Ksenia were deep in conversation over the latest track arrangement, their voices a quiet murmur against the steady strum of Lex’s playing.

Normally, Lex would have been sketching on his tablet during these breaks, doodling absentmindedly between takes while ideas flowed around him. Or, he’d be making abstract works based on what he saw when he heard the music.

But today, his focus seemed clouded, as though a thick fog had settled over his thoughts, leaving him feeling disconnected from the usual rhythm.

Every few minutes, he found himself clearing his throat—a small, dry sound, almost unnoticeable, except for how often it kept slipping out, a reflex he couldn’t shake. A habit Lex didn’t remember picking up, but had for as long as he could remember. A way to stave off nausea, he assumed. Or try to, anyway.

Soren’s gaze flicked over to him, a subtle glance that didn’t seem intrusive but held a quiet awareness, and Lex shifted under the attention, fighting the prickling discomfort that seemed to crawl along his skin.

His stomach gave a faint twist, the sensation low and persistent, a hint of nausea that lingered just enough to keep him slightly on edge. He cleared his throat again, this time with more force, trying to dislodge the tightness that seemed to have settled there.

“Dusty in here today?” he muttered, his voice steady but strained, offering a casual excuse as he shifted his gaze back to his guitar. “Could swear it’s getting to my throat.”

Soren gave him a brief nod, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but his eyes didn’t quite match the lightness.

“Maybe we should air the place out more,” he replied, his tone light but laced with a gentle care that only Lex would recognize, the subtle way Soren sometimes let him know he was there, that he noticed.

Ksenia had probably only heard fragments, but she looked up and offered a smile, standing from where she sat and opening up the window and pulling open the sliding door to the balcony.

“There, maybe the fresh air will help us think,” Ksenia shrugged.

Lex forced a small smile in return, shrugging as though it were no big deal, as though his skin didn’t feel cold and prickly beneath his old sweatshirt, despite the warmth that hung in the studio.

He shifted slightly, tugging the sleeves down over his hands, hoping the familiar fabric might ground him, anchor him through the quiet discomfort that was starting to settle deeper in his bones.

He pushed through the next half hour of playing, his fingers moving through the chords with mechanical precision, each note clear but somehow lacking the ease that usually flowed between them.

His head began to feel heavy, a faint ache forming just behind his eyes, and he could feel a slight chill spreading through him, an unwelcome reminder of a time when this sensation had been far too familiar.

Memories of the Silver Lining Tour flickered at the edges of his mind, bringing with them an uncomfortable tangle of anxiety and guilt, even though he knew that wasn’t where he was anymore.

In the past, on that tour, he’d always been slightly sick, or on edge, as though his body and mind were locked in a constant struggle. Back then, he’d hidden his nausea behind a facade of forced laughter, blamed his exhaustion on the long days, the flights, the sleepless nights. Anything beyond that was substance abused and left only himself to blame.

He could still remember the weight of that mask, the way he’d kept everyone at arm’s length, hiding the extent of his misery with a practiced ease. Now, sitting here, feeling the faint ache in his stomach and the beginnings of a dull chill, he realized he was still fighting that urge to downplay, to brush off any sign of discomfort before anyone could ask questions.

Lex shifted again, his stomach giving another faint twist that sent a shiver down his spine, the nausea growing more insistent, a weight that settled heavily, as though testing his endurance.

He cleared his throat once more, but the sound came out weaker this time, less controlled, and Soren’s eyes flicked up, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied Lex.

“You okay?” Soren asked, his tone casual, as though it were just another passing question, but Lex caught the concern lingering in his gaze, the slight tension in his posture. “You’ve coughed half a dozen times in the last hour…”

Lex forced himself to nod, keeping his expression neutral, leaning on the familiar habit of brushing things off with ease.

“Yeah, probably just allergies or something. Just feels a little… off today,” he replied, his voice steady, though even he could hear the faint edge of strain.

He looked down, focusing on the guitar in his hands, letting his fingers pick out a soft, aimless melody that kept him grounded, at least for the moment.

But Soren didn’t move his gaze, his attention lingering in that quiet, perceptive way that always managed to unnerve Lex without intending to. He didn’t press, though, just leaned back slightly, his fingers idly tapping on his notebook, as though he were giving Lex the space to be honest if he wanted to, but also letting him keep his guard up if that was what he needed.

Ksenia was absorbed in her own notes, humming a faint tune under her breath as she scribbled, her mind clearly lost in the music. Lex felt a twinge of relief at her distraction, not wanting to draw any more attention than necessary. He took a slow breath, willing his stomach to settle, but the faint chill was beginning to seep into his bones, and he found himself wishing he could just curl up somewhere warm and quiet, away from the bright lights of the studio.

The minutes crawled by, each one marked by the growing ache in his head and the steady hum of nausea that refused to dissipate. He was vaguely aware of Soren’s gaze flickering toward him, and each time he looked up, he caught a brief glimpse of concern in Soren’s eyes, the subtle way he seemed to anticipate each uncomfortable shift, each forced cough.

Finally, Lex felt a light touch against his temple—a familiar gesture, one that had become a quiet habit between them. Soren brushed a few stray strands of hair away from Lex’s face, his fingers gentle, lingering for just a moment before he settled back into his chair. The gesture was almost automatic, a silent acknowledgment that Lex wasn’t fooling him, that he didn’t have to keep up the facade.

Lex’s chest tightened at the touch, a mixture of comfort and unease knotting in his stomach, the remnants of old defenses clashing with the warmth of Soren’s care. He took a shallow breath, his stomach twisting again, the nausea inching closer to the surface, but he pushed it down, swallowing against the uncomfortable tightness in his throat.

“You sure you’re good?” Soren asked quietly, his voice barely above a murmur, meant only for Lex.

Lex forced a smile, nodding, though he could feel the effort it took to keep the mask in place. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice softer now, his gaze dropping to his hands. “Just… a little tired, I guess.”

Soren didn’t push, just offered him a quiet, understanding smile, his hand resting lightly on Lex’s shoulder for a moment before he returned to his notes, giving Lex the space he seemed to need.

As the recording session continued, Lex struggled to keep his focus, each passing moment feeling heavier, the chill seeping deeper into his bones. He leaned into the music, letting it carry him through the discomfort, but the memories of that tour lingered, casting a shadow over the present.

He reminded himself that he wasn’t there anymore, that he was safe, surrounded by people who cared, but the habit of hiding, of masking every symptom, ran deep, a quiet ache that lingered beneath the surface.

With each strum of his guitar, he tried to shake the memories, to remind himself that he was here, with Soren and Ksenia, that they were just working on music, nothing more. But the nausea and the faint dizziness clouded his mind, blurring the lines between past and present, until he felt like he was straddling both worlds, each one pressing down on him in a way that made it hard to breathe.

As the afternoon stretched on, Lex’s discomfort deepened, each symptom sinking into him like stones pulling him under. The nausea that had been a low, manageable hum became a sharper presence, curling tightly in his stomach, twisting in relentless waves that made his throat feel raw and tight.

He cleared his throat again, a small cough escaping before he could stifle it, and he noticed Soren’s gaze flicker toward him, the concern in his eyes growing with each strained sound.

Lex shifted where he sat, tugging the sleeves of his old sweatshirt down over his hands, hoping the familiar fabric might warm him enough to shake the chill that had settled deep in his bones.

But even with the hoodie’s weight around him, he couldn’t shake the shivers that ran sporadically up his spine, a subtle reminder of the feverish heat simmering beneath his skin. He clenched his hands, willing the nausea to pass, but each breath only seemed to tighten the uncomfortable coil in his stomach, like a rubber band stretched to its breaking point.

The music continued around him, Soren and Ksenia discussing their ideas in low, familiar tones, but Lex could barely focus, his thoughts clouded by the ache in his head and the weight of memories pressing down on him.

He coughed again, the sound rougher, harsher than he intended, and this time he could feel his stomach lurch in response, a small, unwelcome gag that he quickly swallowed down.

His throat burned, and he had to clench his jaw, forcing himself to breathe through the nausea, refusing to let it get the better of him. Memories of that tour flooded his mind—nights spent hunched over in tiny, cramped bathrooms, the hollow ache in his stomach as he fought to keep anything down, the weight of his own exhaustion dragging him under, while he hid every symptom behind a practiced smile.

The memories settled over him like a heavy blanket, a quiet, relentless reminder that his body had once betrayed him in ways he could never forget. He tried to shake them off, to remind himself that this wasn’t the same—that he wasn’t there anymore. But the nausea was insistent, each cough digging deeper, pulling him closer to that edge he was so desperate to avoid.

“Hey, angel,” Soren’s voice broke through the fog, gentle but laced with a quiet urgency. He was watching Lex with a subtle intensity, his eyes narrowed in that way that told Lex he’d noticed every single one of those small coughs, each barely-contained gag that Lex had tried to swallow down. “Still with us?”

Lex realized Soren must’ve said something to him, or asked a question, and Lex was too wrapped up in his head to process it. He nodded slowly, but Soren didn’t say anything else, just shifted slightly closer, his presence a steady, grounding force that somehow eased the tension coiled in Lex’s stomach, if only by a fraction.

Lex managed a weak smile, hoping it might pass for casual, as though the nausea wasn’t clawing up his throat, as though he could ignore the uncomfortable ache pressing in on him from all sides.

But as he opened his mouth to say something, another cough slipped out, harsher this time, and he had to cover his mouth, his hand flew to his mouth instinctively, fingers pressed against his lips as he tried to keep the bile down, his face paling as he felt a faint, acidic burn on his tongue.

Soren’s hand was there in an instant, reaching out to brush Lex’s hair back, a gesture so gentle, so instinctive, that it sent a rush of warmth through Lex’s fevered haze. He felt Soren’s fingers graze his temple, steadying him, and Lex knew, in that moment, that Soren understood—had probably known long before Lex had admitted it to himself.

“Oh, Lexi,” Soren murmured, his voice calm, a quiet strength lacing his tone. “You’re not feeling good, are you?”

Lex swallowed, forcing a weak chuckle, his voice strained as he tried to brush it off. “It’s… I’ll be fine. Just… something in my throat,” he managed, his words barely audible, laced with a tremor that betrayed him.

His stomach twisted again, a sharp, insistent reminder that he was fighting a losing battle, but he clung to the excuse, hoping it might somehow make it easier to ignore.

But Soren didn’t let go, his hand resting lightly on Lex’s shoulder, his arm in such a way it held Lex’s hair down along his back, but the hold was a subtle reminder that he didn’t have to pretend, not here.

“Lex,” he said softly, his tone a gentle nudge, his fingers brushing against the back of Lex’s neck in a way that was both comforting and steadying.

Lex closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping as he finally let go of the thin pretense, his stomach churning with an intensity that made his head spin. He could feel the nausea creeping higher, settling in his throat, the burn unmistakable, and he knew, in that moment, that there was no stopping it.

Ksenia, noticing the quiet exchange, looked up from her notes, her eyes widening as she took in the paleness of Lex’s face, the way his hand was pressed tightly against his mouth. Without a word, she reached for the trash can, bringing it over just as Lex’s stomach twisted violently, the nausea surging with a force that left him breathless.

“It’s okay,” Soren murmured softly, his voice a steady presence beside him, his hand resting lightly on Lex’s back. “Lex, babe, you’re going to be sick, but you’ll be okay. Just breathe—I’m right here.”

Lex barely had time to brace himself before his stomach heaved, his body giving in to the sickness he’d been fighting so hard to ignore. The nausea hit him in relentless waves, each one dragging him under, and he felt Soren’s hand on his shoulder, a steadying weight that kept him grounded, kept him from slipping into the tangled mess of memories that threatened to pull him down.

He gasped, his breathing shallow and ragged, his fingers clenching the edge of the trash can as he fought to keep his balance. Soren’s hand moved gently to the back of his neck, his fingers warm and reassuring, and Lex leaned into the touch, letting it anchor him through the worst of the nausea.

“You’re doing great,” Soren whispered, his voice soft, a quiet comfort in the haze of discomfort. “Just let it out. I’ve got you.”

Lex’s chest tightened, a mixture of relief and vulnerability washing over him as he let himself lean into Soren’s support, his mind still clouded by the ache in his stomach and the memories he couldn’t quite shake.

For a split second, Lex thought the nausea was dissipating, but the sudden small gasp and equally intense wave of acid that splattered in the trash can told him he wasn’t that lucky.

He could hear Ksenia’s soft footsteps nearby, her presence a quiet reassurance, and he felt a faint sense of gratitude that she hadn’t said anything, hadn’t asked questions or looked at him with pity.

When the nausea finally eased, leaving him hollow and exhausted, Lex slumped back against the couch, his head hanging as he tried to catch his breath. Soren was still there, his hand resting lightly on Lex’s back, his touch a constant reminder that he wasn’t alone, that he didn’t have to carry this on his own.

“Hey,” Soren murmured, his voice gentle, a soft warmth that cut through the lingering fog. “You okay?”

Lex nodded weakly, his throat raw, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Yeah… just… wasn’t expecting that,” he managed, his tone laced with a faint, self-deprecating chuckle, as though he could somehow downplay the intensity of what he’d just gone through.

But Soren didn’t push, didn’t ask for explanations. He just offered Lex a faint smile, his hand moving to brush a few strands of hair from Lex’s forehead, a quiet gesture of care that left Lex feeling both comforted and exposed.

“Happens to the best of us,” Soren replied, his tone light, a subtle reminder that he wasn’t judging, that he understood.

Lex managed a faint smile in return, his chest tight with a quiet gratitude he couldn’t quite put into words. The memories of that tour still lingered, casting shadows over his mind, but here, with Soren and Ksenia by his side, he felt a strange sense of relief, a warmth that eased the weight of his discomfort.

Ksenia offered him a water bottle, her expression softened with an understanding that only a close friend could offer. “Just take it easy, yeah?” she murmured, her voice a gentle reassurance.

Lex nodded, taking the bottle with a shaky hand, his gaze flicking between Soren and Ksenia, the quiet warmth in their eyes grounding him, reminding him that he didn’t have to hide, not here. And as he took a sip of water, feeling the coolness soothe his raw throat, he let himself breathe, let himself be cared for, if only for a moment.

The initial wave of nausea left Lex feeling hollowed out, his head spinning, his skin clammy and cold beneath the fabric of his hoodie.

His breathing was shallow, each breath a careful, measured effort to keep the nausea at bay, but he could feel the sickness digging in deeper, a weight that settled heavily in his stomach and chest, pressing in on all sides.

Soren stayed by his side, his hand resting on Lex’s shoulder, his presence steady and calming, but Lex could barely focus, his mind clouded by the fever that had begun to build, making the room feel stifling, oppressive.

Ksenia was there too, her gaze soft with understanding, but Lex could feel the tightness in his chest growing, a creeping anxiety that wrapped around him, suffocating in its intensity.

His fingers clenched around the edge of the stool, his knuckles white as he tried to steady himself, tried to find some anchor in the midst of the spinning room. The memories of Silver Lining hovered at the edges of his mind, a familiar specter that lurked just beyond his vision, pressing down with a weight that felt as real as the fever and nausea churning inside him.

He could remember the dimly lit backstage rooms, the way his body had felt weak and uncooperative, the hollow, aching sensation that came from nights spent fighting his own exhaustion and anxiety. The burn of liquor, the rush of everything else. And every time, the inevitable crash that came.

“Lex,” Soren murmured, his voice a soft, grounding presence, pulling Lex back from the edge of the memories. His hand was still on Lex’s shoulder, warm and steady, and Lex could feel the concern radiating from him, a quiet reminder that he wasn’t alone. “You’re not feeling any better, are you?”

Lex sighed softly, shaking his head as he tried to push down the nausea, the fever, the anxious knot that seemed to have taken root in his chest.

“It’s just… dizzy,” he managed, his voice a weak whisper, barely more than a breath. He could hear the strain in his own words, a quiet, familiar edge of fear that he hated to admit, even to himself.

“You always get dizzy when you throw up,” Soren said, trying to be reassuring but knowing he probably fell short. He pushed Lex’s hair behind him and carefully rubbed Lex’s back. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m going to lay down for a bit,” he continued, his gaze dropping as he tried to avoid the concerned looks from Soren and Ksenia. “Just need to… let this pass. You two should keep working. I’ll be back as soon as things… level out.”

Ksenia exchanged a brief, uncertain glance with Soren, her eyes flickering with worry, but she didn’t press, just nodded slowly, a small, reluctant acceptance of his words. Lex could feel the tension in the room, the way his own unease had bled into the space, turning it from a creative sanctuary into a place where he felt exposed, vulnerable.

Soren’s hand lingered on his shoulder, a quiet protest that didn’t need words, but Lex gave him a weak smile, his gaze steady, trying to convey a reassurance he didn’t quite feel.

“I’ll be fine, Soren,” he said softly, though even he could hear the tremor in his voice, the edge of anxiety that threatened to spill over.

Reluctantly, Soren let go, his hand falling away, though his gaze never left Lex, his worry palpable. “Alright,” he said quietly, his voice laced with a gentle concern that made Lex’s chest tighten. “But if you need anything, you let us know. Don’t try to… don’t keep it to yourself, okay?”

Lex managed a nod, but he couldn’t bring himself to say more, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. He turned, the room spinning slightly as he pushed himself to his feet, steadying himself against the wall as he made his way toward the bedroom. His vision blurred at the edges, and he had to grip the doorframe to keep from stumbling, his legs weak beneath him, the fever and dizziness making it difficult to stay upright.

Once he reached his room, he closed the door softly, sinking onto the edge of the bed as he let out a shaky breath, his head falling into his hands.

The quiet of the room settled around him, a heavy, suffocating silence that amplified every ache, every shiver that ran through him. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he tried to gather himself, but the nausea surged again, sharp and relentless, a wave of discomfort that left him gasping for breath.

He pressed his hand against his mouth, willing the nausea to pass, but his stomach was stubborn, twisting painfully, and he could feel the bile rising, a harsh reminder of the times he’d been in this exact position before. Memories of the tour blurred with the present, the sickness overlapping, until he could barely tell where one ended and the other began.

He could remember sitting alone in tiny, dimly lit hotel rooms, his body wracked with nausea and exhaustion, the hollow ache in his chest growing heavier with each passing day. He had fought through it, kept the facade intact, hiding every symptom behind forced smiles and laughter, even as his body crumbled beneath the weight of it all.

Now, he was free of that—no substances, no constant dread of falling apart in front of everyone. But the habit of hiding, of masking every discomfort, ran deep, a defense that had become second nature, even now.

He pressed his hands against his temples, feeling the heat of the fever pulsing beneath his skin, a reminder of the vulnerability he couldn’t quite shake.

He lay back against the pillows, pulling the blanket over himself, hoping the warmth would ease the chills that had settled in his bones. But even as he closed his eyes, trying to find some measure of comfort, the anxiety gnawed at him, a quiet, insidious fear that whispered he was back in those dark rooms, back to a time when he had no control over his own body or mind.

The fever pressed down, making his thoughts heavy, his breathing shallow, and he curled into himself, his fingers gripping the edge of the blanket as though it could shield him from the memories that surfaced with each wave of nausea. He wanted to be strong, to push through, to prove that he wasn’t the person he’d once been, that he wasn’t broken by the memories that haunted him.

Time blurred, each minute stretching into an eternity as he lay there, feeling the fever pulse through him, the nausea twisting in relentless waves. He could hear faint footsteps outside the door, soft, cautious sounds that he knew belonged to Soren, but he kept his eyes closed, hoping to feign sleep, hoping to keep Soren from seeing the state he was in.

But the footsteps stopped just outside, a pause that hung in the air, and Lex could feel the weight of Soren’s concern pressing against the door, a quiet, unspoken question that lingered in the silence. He could picture Soren’s expression, the gentle worry, the warmth in his gaze, and part of him ached to let him in, to let him offer the comfort that he knew would ease the weight on his chest. But the habit of hiding, of pushing through alone, kept him silent, his chest tight with the quiet fear that he would somehow drag Soren down with him.

-

Lex drifted in and out of a restless sleep, the fever pressing down on him like a heavy blanket, pinning him to the bed with its relentless heat. In the dimness of his room, time lost all meaning, and he felt trapped in the haze of sickness, caught between waking and sleeping, the fever blurring the edges of his thoughts until he couldn’t tell where reality ended and memory began.

Every now and then, he would catch a glimpse of the familiar objects in his room—the posters on the walls, the soft light filtering through the curtains—but they seemed distant, removed, as though he were watching his life from somewhere else, somewhere feverish and surreal.

When he finally opened his eyes, he felt a fresh wave of nausea roll through him, sharper and more insistent than before.

His stomach twisted painfully, and he shivered, a sudden chill spreading through him that made his skin prickle beneath the layers of his hoodie. He tugged the blankets closer, his fingers shaking as he tried to hold onto the warmth, but the chill only deepened, sinking into his bones.

His throat was raw, his head pounding with a dull, relentless ache that seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was closing in around him.

Everything felt wrong. His head hurt, he was absolutely freezing, and yet he could feel his long hair sticking to the back of his neck and his cheek. He wouldn’t be able to tie it up, but he could push the wet hair off his skin.

He pushed himself up, the room spinning as he sat up, and for a moment he had to close his eyes, willing the dizziness to pass. His breathing was shallow, each breath a careful effort, as though he were afraid that any sudden movement might tip him over the edge.

He could feel the nausea building, a sick, twisting sensation that left him lightheaded, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it down much longer.

Forcing himself to his feet, he stumbled toward the bathroom, gripping the wall as he moved, each step an effort to stay upright. His vision blurred at the edges, and he could feel the sweat beading on his forehead, a cold, clammy sensation that made his skin crawl.

He barely noticed the faint sound of footsteps behind him, too focused on the overwhelming nausea that threatened to spill over, the sickness pressing in with a force that made his head spin.

As he reached the bathroom, a familiar hand settled gently on his shoulder, grounding him just as the nausea surged, sharp and relentless. He felt himself lean into the touch, desperate for any anchor, any sense of stability, but the sickness was too strong, too insistent to ignore.

His stomach heaved, and he barely had time to brace himself before he was hunched over the toilet, his body giving in to the sickness with a force that left him breathless. He heaved, hard, whatever was in his stomach coming out and splashing sickeningly into the water.

Soren stayed beside him, one hand resting lightly on Lex’s back, the other gently holding his hair out of his face. His touch was warm, steady, a quiet reassurance that kept Lex grounded, even as his body betrayed him, each wave of nausea dragging him under.

Between the heaving breaths and the sickness that left him gasping, he could hear Soren’s soft voice, murmuring quiet words of comfort, a gentle reminder that he wasn’t alone.

“Easy, get it all up…” Soren told him, and Lex’s body was happy to oblige. IN fact, the next heave was so hard, backed by a heavy wave of sick, that it knocked Lex right to his knees.

But the fever was thick in his mind, clouding his thoughts, and he felt a faint, creeping panic settle over him, an echo of guilt and fear that he couldn’t shake. The memories of those nights on tour—nights spent hunched over in small, dimly lit bathrooms, the bitter taste of regret heavy on his tongue—flooded back, and he couldn’t stop himself from spiraling, the familiar shame rising up like bile.

“I didn’t… I didn’t do this,” he whispered, his voice shaking, spitting into the toilet, barely audible over the sound of his own breathing. His hands were trembling and he could feel the anxiety tightening in his chest, making it hard to breathe. “I’m not… I’m not high, I swear, I’m just… I’m just sick. I didn’t do this.”

Soren’s hand moved to his shoulder, his touch steady and reassuring, and he could hear the gentle concern in his voice as he replied,

“Lex what..?”

“I’m not.. I didn’t… I promise I didn’t…” Lex spoke, fragmented and panicked before heaving again.

Soren filled in the blanks, sighing softly and carefully pulling Lex’s hair out of his face, “I know, Lex. It’s okay. You’re just sick—it’s not anything else.”

But the words barely registered, the fever making it difficult to hold onto the reassurance, and he could feel the panic building, a weight pressing down on his chest, suffocating. His breath hitched, his vision blurring as the room seemed to close in around him, and he clenched his fists, trying to push back the memories that crowded his mind, the images of nights spent fighting himself, fighting his own body.

“It’s… it’s not that,” he repeated, his voice a desperate whisper, as though saying the words might make it true. “I didn’t… I didn’t do this to myself.” His hands were shaking, his chest tight, and he felt another wave of nausea roll through him, sharper this time, as though the panic were fueling the sickness, making it worse.

Soren’s voice was soft, calming, a steady presence that cut through the haze.

“You’re okay, Lex,” he murmured, his hand rubbing gentle circles along Lex’s back. “You’re just sick, that’s all. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Lex could feel the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, a quiet desperation that he couldn’t contain, the weight of his own guilt pressing down, heavy and relentless. He wanted to believe Soren’s words, to trust that this was just a simple sickness, nothing more, but the memories of that tour, the shame that had haunted him, were too deeply ingrained, a scar he couldn’t erase.

His stomach twisted again, a cold, clammy sensation spreading through him, and he shivered, feeling the chill settle in his bones. He leaned forward, his body tensing as another wave of nausea hit, and he felt Soren’s hand on his back, a steadying warmth that kept him grounded even as he fought to hold himself together. He heaved, again. He never ate much, couldn’t eat much actually, and yet it felt like he was purging an entire buffet’s worth of food.

“It’s… it’s not like before,” Lex whispered, as he caught his breath, his voice breaking, as though saying the words might make it true. “I’m not… I’m not drunk or high, I just… I don’t know why I feel this way, but it’s not that. I was fine this morning… It’s not…”

“I know,” Soren replied softly, his voice unwavering. “I believe you, Lex. You’re not alone in this. I’m right here, and you’re going to be okay. You probably just caught the bug I had over the weekend…”

The warmth in Soren’s words cut through the fog, a small, fragile comfort that settled over Lex like a blanket, easing the tightness in his chest. He closed his eyes, his breathing still shallow, but the quiet reassurance in Soren’s voice grounded him.

But the fever was relentless, the nausea unyielding, and as he opened his eyes, he felt a fresh wave of panic wash over him, his hands clenching the edge of the sink as he tried to steady himself. His vision blurred, his thoughts a jumble of fear and shame, and he could barely hear Soren’s voice over the rush of his own heartbeat, the quiet terror that lingered just beneath the surface.

“I didn’t… I didn’t do this,” he whispered again, his voice a faint, desperate plea, as though saying the words might banish the memories, the guilt that had haunted him for so long.

Soren’s hand stayed on his shoulder, a steadying presence, his voice gentle as he replied, “I know, Lex. You’re safe here. You’re going to get through this, okay? I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Lex’s chest tightened, a small, fragile sense of relief settling over him, though the fear still lingered. He spit, trying to rid his mouth of such a foul taste.

“Got it out for now?” Soren asked, and Lex nodded. He was sure he wouldn’t throw up any time soon, and now he was miserably hot. As if he could feel his fever. He felt something brush over his mouth, the toilet flushed.

“Okay, here, I’m just grabbing your hoodie, nothing else,” Soren said, trying to keep Lex from panicking more as he helped his fiancé pull off his sweatshirt, tossing it aside. “How are you feeling? Still panicking?”

Lex hesitated, curling in on himself, “Not… not going to be sick… really fucking hot…”

Soren gently kissed the side of his head, “I know angel, I’m sorry. Here…”

Soren stood, grabbing a rag and running it under cold water, pressing the damp cloth to Lex’s face, “Better?”

Lex nodded, soaking in the sensation. It was relaxing and shocking in a good way. Soren wrapped an arm around him, using his other hand to press the rag to different spots on Lex’s face. Lex closed his eyes, leaning into Soren’s touch, letting himself be anchored by the warmth, the steady comfort that cut through the fever and nausea, grounding him in the present.

“Just breathe Lexi,” Soren said, “You’re going to be just fine…”

[baahsu]

HIII BAHH SRRY FOR DISINTEGRATING FOR A FEW DAYS OPLA HAD MOMENTARILY CONSUMED EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING

HOWEVER this has been sitting, unfinished, in my vscest doc for a while now so i decided to finish it up. here u go eat up friend :]] oh yeah angst warning at the beginning btw:

so. lies on the floor. ichiji deserves to get fucked stupid after having a bad day and im thinking abt him w yonji rn so. :)

emotions regained/vs bros redemption ichiji having that almost subtle kinda self hatred one day- (bc in emotions regained aus all the brothers are chronically mentally ill, they're so traumatized its painful :,D) -not the kind that makes you wanna scream or cry or throw up, instead the kind that makes your heart go a little faster than normal and that makes your skin crawl and makes you feel sick for being alive. the kind that builds and builds until it's too much.

yonji (the most *emotionally* intelligent one out of 124ji, methinks) eventually notices smthns wrong and asks ichi abt it and ichiji just Breaks. like he pauses, crumples into a ball, and starts pulling his hair and venting about how he feels so disgusting and unworthy of love and how he wants to rip his skin off for something new and he hates this he hates this he hates this he hates himself

and yonji LISTENS to him. he listens with a frown until ichi is fucking winded, hyperventilating, and sweating with frustrated tears in his eyes. and then yonji hits him with the

"What do you need me to do, Ichiji?"

then ichi just stops shaking (and breathing) entirely for a moment as the question registers b4 his shaking slowly starts up again and his bottom lip starts trembling and he slowly looks up at yonji with big ole watery eyes and shakily signals him over to cuddle and theybpagaufuafuaf!!!!

the two of em lying down w yonji holding ichiji tight against his chest- one hand/arm curled around chijis lower back while the other is running through his hair and ichis just curling around yonji like a koala. he buries his face in yonjis neck and is constantly mumbling "im sorry" and yonji says "theres nothing to apologize for" each and every time back, proving his point by pressing a kiss to a different part of ichiji each time.

this continues on until ichiji stops crying and calms down. then he thanks yonji by sitting up slowly and holding yonjis face in his hands and kissing him *so* gently.

^ idk maybe its just me but i feel like out of all the vs siblings ichiji would have the hardest time being gentle. sanji always has been, reiju *secretly* always has been, yonji *had* to learn to be (even when he was still emotionless) bc of his strength (and therefore it came somewhat easily to him when he got emotions), nijis always been a giant fucking tsundere so even though hes an ass about 90% of the time, he does have the capability to at least sit and listen and take care of someone he loves (especially after regaining emotions, the percentile changes from 90/10 to 50/50 then lmao), but ichiji?? the perfect, emotionless soldier, even after getting fixed??? practically unheard of.

so when he pulls THIS shit???

it makes yonjis libido go WHAM. like that mf went redder than chijis hair. might as well been a cartoon character with the way he practically started floating as his eyes turned into hearts

THEN. then that gentle kiss delvesssss

ichiji getting lost in his emotions, leading him to grab yonjis face so *desperately* and straddle his hips/lap and kiss him thru tears.. n yonjis there half dumbstruck half horny, grinding on ichis ass while the hands once petting his hair and stroking his back to soothe him move to squeeze at it bc holy shiiit what is happening rn yonji cant compute. do u see the vision 🙈🙈

then, SHOCKINGLY, (/sarc) they fuck each other stupid. like STUPID stupid. so stupid that when 023 find them in the morning they straight up think the two were jumped in an alley together or smthn with how marked up their bodies were n shit (but they figure it out real quick once they see how badly ichiji was limping :]) ((tho if you asked me personally yonji wasnt exactly walking straight either :]])) (((they are both switches :]]])))

AND SCENE. i wrote abt both ichiniji and yoniji b4 this so now the 124ji circle is complete lmao. i need more soft ichiji in my life and if theres no one to provide i shall make it myself :)) -J.J

Honestly relatable, I can't stop thinking about opla since the day I watched it lol it was so good and I want to rewatch it already

But back to vcest 👀

Ichiji being emotionally stunted after getting his emotions back is a concept that's always at the back of my mind but I never put too much thought into it, but now I'm 👀

I see him as trying to keep himself, and the others, together, he doesn't let his emotions run freely, he tries not to let them take the better of him else he might go down and spiral of self hatred and guilt, so he puts his energy into looking after the others and trying to come up with a plan to get them out of judge's grasp

It takes a toll on him of course, his repressed emotions keep building up and he feels himself going insane and with no way to vent

When yonji catches him like this, on the verge of panicking, he finally let's go and it feels so good and so freeing for once. Yonji's rock solid, he embraces him, takes his whole body into strong arms and makes him feel safe, and he doesn't budge, he lets ichiji cry against his shoulder until he's satisfied and spent

Ichiji's tired but tries to show his gratitude with a kiss and yonji combusts. It's not every day that he has ichiji this pliant and soft and sweet sprawled in his lap and he wants to do so many things to him but his brain's all muddled and he doesn't know where to begin!!

Once he gets a hold of himself tho, it's over for ichiji, the strength he used to comfort him will now be used to ruim him

[surpriserose]

Guys please help i think i got a haunted copy of papas freezeria deluxe and now im scared

Like a lot of people, I was excited to see Papa’s Freezeria Deluxe come to Steam. It was a dream come true. Until it became a nightmare. I thought I was in for a weekend of nostalgic fun. Boy was I wrong. 

It started okay, I didn’t get it from a sketchy source or anything. I'm against piracy and I would never pirate a game so near and dear to my heart. I just downloaded it off Steam like any other game. And it looked like a normal children’s game too. The starting screen was bright and happy, the smoothies on either side of the start button beckoning me in. 

The problems didn’t start until I hit my first payday. Since I finally had the money from a week’s worth of drinks, I clicked on the shop page. When I looked at the furniture it was all purple and black and orange. The whole shop was Halloween themed and I hadn’t even unlocked holidays yet. I thought it was a little odd, but figured it was just a visual glitch in the end. The video game equivalent of colors bleeding in the wash. I bought a few bats and hung them up in the spirit of things. 

When I clicked to start the next day, it was like I really had skipped forward to Halloween. My first customer was Marty and he was in costume. He was dressed as a zombie, but the thing was, his costume just looked so realistic. His skin was gray and cracked in places, showing muscle and bone underneath. His model lurched forward, hands with long black nails raised up. He left a trail of hyper realistic blood on the floor. Then my avatar spotted Marty and he looked scared. My simulacrum contorted his cartoonish brows and his mouth gaped open.

Quickly, I pressed to go to the blender station, hoping to save my avatar. Instead of the usual head on counter view, I was in a hallway with a third person view of my avatar. I could see the entire kitchen and it was horrifying. The ice cream machine was slowly churning what looked like more hyper realistic blood. I hoped it was just strawberry flavored. Bloody handprints were smeared on the walls and counters. There were about five bloody knives on the floor. The toppings section was awash in human viscera. I had to get my little guy out of here. I spotted a door at the end of the hallway.

I started pressing the W key, which is forward in most games. My avatar moved forward slowly, as if he was hesitating. As if somehow whatever was in front of him was worse than what was behind him. But that couldn’t be possible, right? I smashed the W key down and my avatar started sprinting. He slammed into the door and flung it open, revealing an alleyway behind the Freezeria. One that was crawling with 30 of those hyper realistic zombies. They all looked like the other customers. Neither I or my avatar had any time to react before they leapt at him. Where my avatar once stood was now a mass of gray and green hands and a slowly growing pool of blood beneath them. But my avatar could still scream, and did. They sounded so real and chilled me to the bone. 

The curtains swooped down from either side of my screen and the familiar after work minigame popped up. Sundae shot. I only had one ticket to play and there was no way to exit the game. I pressed start.

The curtains retreated, revealing a horde of realistic zombies. I was in first person, a pistol in my cartoon hands. I grabbed my mouse and switched to FPS mode. I shot the first Zombie in the head, and Boomer went down, the remains of her head splattered on the wall behind her. I was able to take out four more of them before the gun clicked in my hand. Empty. I swore and started trying to move using WASD, but I remained rooted in place as the horde marched forward. I threw my arms up in front of my face, bracing for gory impact. But the curtains swung down right as the first zombie reached me.

I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath, and let out a sigh. The game had closed itself. I was tired after this ordeal, so I figured I’d save deleting it from my Steam library for tomorrow. I stood up from my chair and stretched my arms above my head before I heard the satisfying click in my back. It was another click I heard first. The click of a lock being turned. I swung towards the door of my studio apartment. It creaked open a few inches and I heard a harmony of low groans. It was when the first rotted hand stuck out from the shadows outside that I knew I had nowhere to run.

[gothtopus108]

okay i need to rant about this stupid guy because i cant stop thinking about all of this shit

so, my boyfriend has this friend right and we have a LOT of common intrests, so we started talking about music we like ect ect, i didnt like him for a long time bc he made me anxious but i warmed up to him, eventually we got really close (at least i thought we were close) and now i've always had the problem of being way closer with people than they are with me, but I knew he pretty much had ducky, their other best friend, and pretty much no one else.

when we were talking it was a REALLY bad time in my life. Maybe one of the top worst, and I've had a lot of really shitty time. I'm bipolar, and i was balls-deep in a horrible mixed episode, i also was heavily restricting food and taking more ritalin than i am supposed to, so basically, i was in an insane hazy oblivion and basically just entierly zoned out but also really intense from the ritalin and mania. I was in the process of moving and trying to pack up all of my shit too and my parents were CONSTANTLY fighting also so badly it would wake me up from sleep when they got into it.

So we would talk for hours, texting until like 3am, mostly about will wood/other music artists we share obsessions with, but also a lot about life and our respective shitty mental health. Now, I was also convinced I was going to lose ducky, and i was going through yet another horrific mania-induced gender identity crisis. So, although he NEVER said anything about it, in retrospect I was defintly not being a normal human person in the way i was interacting with him. Its hard enough for me to interact normally, but throw in that shit-storm and I know i was being way too much for anyone to handle, let alone someone i only just started talking too

eventually, me and ducky did break up (thanks bpd)(we also got back together a few weeks later obvi) and I think the main thing i did was ranting to him, basically dumping my entiere thoughts while activly splitting on ducky. I think this was probally the final straw. The day ducky told him we broke up, he told me us talking "doesn't feel right" and he has not responed to a single text since then.

i asked him why, and nothing. it hurt almost as bad as breaking up with ducky, because at least with ducky we had talked about if for literal days before deciding to break up and we also kept talking as friends. I didnt text him for like two weeks and when I was in a much much better place mentally i reached out saying basically "hey im sorry for how i acted, i promise thats not how i normally am, you just need to be more firm with me on boundaries. also if you hate me please say that instead of just ghosting me" but nothing.

now heres the part thats fucking me up the most. I fucking TOLD him so many times how hard being ignored fucks me up. I told him that being ignored literally makes me suicicdal. I told him how i'd so much rather someone scream and yell at me, call me horrible names, even physically fucking hurt me than ignore me, yet he STILL refuses to even acknowledge me. He KNEW how i have absolutely NO friends but ducky, he KNEW i was in the worst time of my life, he KNEW all of my trauma around friendships ending, he KNEW ALL OF IT, but he still fucking ignores me. I hate it. I cant fucking stand it.

I JUST want to be his friend again so bad. I loved him he was so fun and we had so many common interests especially in things that ducky doesnt want to talk about as much with me. i just want him to tell me what i did wrong. I want him to be angry i want to hear everything i did wrong i want him to TELL me i cant stand him ignoring me it makes my skin crawl. Now ducky told me he blocked me which makes it even worse. I feel entierly out of control.

and the worst part is, ducky just says 'yeah he didn't handle it right, but your response to what he did is not his fault' when i tell him how hes making me actively suicidal. Like,, yes,, that is true,, but when i've told him how triggering it is, when i've told him about the time i attempted after someone stoped talking to me, when i text him begging him to text me back and he still wont, at what point does at least SOME blame fall on him? like if i had never told him any of that stuff and he was just oblivious to how triggering it is that would be one thing but NO, i fucking TOLD him SO many times.

im so upset and hurt and confused and angry and evberything feels so bad and i just know hes talking shit about me to ducky i know he is he thinks im a bad person and hes trying to convince ducky i am a bad person . i hat ehim somuch im so hurt and upset and i want to hurt myself i cant belive i even tried to be his friend i can ttak ethis

[gaoau]

devil worship (lesson number one)

theory of the two demons warnings — very explicit puppy murder word count — 1.2k note — its not necessary to read this ch if youre uncomfortable cause im really pulling some weird shit (read this and my sachiro vet fic side by side lmfao). this is only to fill the space between chuuya seeing mc with the puppies and then finding the puppies dead the next day. you can totally skip this for the sake of your sanity. thanks for putting up with me thumbs up emoji

prev. — next.

the last person [Name] expects to see in this familiar alleyway is Dazai. perhaps that is why they mistake him for another stain on the ground. he blends in with the darkness, melting into a dense shadow, never to be found by anyone with abnormal thoughts. but [Name]'s mind is so painfully normal, with ideas so painfully normal and anger so painfully normal. however dark and darker the shadows might grow, with everything they have both come to learn, they know just how deep it all cuts. it takes a second, but [Name] finds him among the endless abyss where the moonlight doesn't reach.

they stop dead in their tracks. empty eyes glowing with wrath, hands twitching as if they knew what will come. Dazai standing over a box of three innocent puppies is a death threat.

"you know, [Name]," he starts, voice airy and gentle. there's a sweet smile twisting his lips as he meets his mentee's eyes. he bends down at the waist, a lazy arm reaching to brush his hand over one of the puppies. it wags its tail and pants excitedly as Dazai continues with a darkened tone, "i'm not very fond of dogs." his fingers latch tightly onto its scruff. when he straightens up again, he holds the puppy away from him as if it were trash. "how long have you been keeping these?"

"only a few days."

"why?"

"i didn't want 'em to—Dazai-san, you're hurting it."

"am i?"

instantly, Dazai lets go. he opens his palm and watches the puppy slam against the floor, uninterested. it cries out in a shrill squeal of pain. [Name]'s shoulders jolt at the sound, grimacing and cringing at noises they would normally not bat an eye at. their legs move on impulse as they rush towards the dog. before their hands can reach, Dazai steps on its frail body. [Name] hovers by his shoes helplessly on their knees, staring with fear they've never felt before. it clogs their throat. the puppy tries to wiggle its way out of danger, but Dazai's weight overwhelms it.

"Dazai-san, please stop, you're hurting it." their voice trembles. their fingers tremble. they tremble. they have trembled before—with anger, never with such fright.

"i know."

relief lasts a brief instance when Dazai lifts his foot. [Name] isn't enough to beat Dazai at anything. the puppy's cries echo in the alleyway while he mercilessly stomps on it like it's a persistent cockroach. its siblings whine in fear and try to seek refuge further inside a shallow box. [Name] feels bile crawl up their throat. bones snap and blood splatters and their heart pounds in their ears. it's not long before the puppy can't complain anymore.

the glow of their ability is useless when they scramble to shield the dog. "stop!" comes their choked plea, fumbling to grasp Dazai's ankle. he sees right through their sacrifice and kicks them square in the forehead. their skin splits open, but they stand their ground. it's too late, though. the puppy twitches with its last breaths on a puddle of its own blood.

Dazai shakes his shoe clean of stains. he lazily pulls out his gun and points it at [Name]'s fresh wound. "why do you want them to live? for what?" he spits out, a voice they struggle to recognize. it's shaken and furious. it's sick of alienation. he cocks the gun. "they can't do anything for themselves. they'll just starve, attack others, they'll get kicked around like you. they'll suffer the cold and the hunger and the sickness. that's what you want them to live for?"

his pulse doesn't tremble when he pulls the trigger. the bullet flies past [Name]'s side, barely missing their ear. but Dazai's shots never miss. it hits the corpse of the puppy.

"or are you doing this for yourself?" however hateful [Name]'s eyes may glow, Dazai glares back with the same intensity. "there's no value in your life, so you pretend there's some in others'. you think if you save them, you'll save yourself, don't you?"

they grit their teeth to hold themself back. this is a battle they can't win. "i don't want to be saved, Dazai-san." the line is blurred between who they think of and who they want to save. maybe they only think of themself. but if so, what? maybe they don't think at all.

Dazai sighs with exaggerated irritation, "of course you don't." he points the gun again to shoot at the cowering puppies. [Name] reacts just as the bullet darts out. they snatch the box to their chest, eyes squeezed shut, flinching at the burning pain of lead slicing their skin open. "listen, i'll give you some advice for once, like a proper mentor. if you can't guarantee prosperity, you're better off cutting the line early. otherwise you're just prolonging their suffering."

he doesn't wait for his wise words to sink into his mentee's brain. with one swift kick, the cardboard box disappears from their grasp and the puppies tumble out with squeals of fear. he chooses not to waste bullets on a pair of frail dogs, returning the gun to his waistband. the scent of blood grows stronger with every thrust of his leg. even when [Name] throws themself as a shield again, they're just another puppy in his eyes. eventually, the puppies stop whining. the scars on [Name]'s arms multiply. (he's already told them to not rely on their ability alone.) one puppy is left twitching, silent.

another sigh tumbles from Dazai's tongue, as if he were finished with strenuous training after a long day of hard work. he bends at the waist again, using one hand to lift [Name] to their feet by the collar of their bloodied shirt. "if you want to help, put it out of its misery, yeah?" with his other hand, he lifts a mangled puppy by its scruff. then he forces its spasming body into [Name]'s hands. "you did this with Q as well, didn't you? how'd that turn out?"

they don't answer. they stare with wide, hollow eyes at the mess of fur and blood on their palms.

"listen to me," Dazai hisses like poison. he harshly pats them on the shoulder. "you don't get to decide value in other lives."

[Name] feels the puppy struggle in their hands. its tiny, innocent body twitches, its head lolls weakly from side to side. it's not blinking. it's staring right at them with a dead gaze. they close their own eyes and breathe in shakily. the pungent scent of blood—both theirs and the puppies'—pierces their nose as a reminder of their own mistakes. Dazai digs his fingers into their shoulder. they have never been afraid of death before. they wish they could use Mirror Mirage. they tremble with fear.

hesitantly, they snap the puppy's neck and put it out of its misery. they let its limp body drop next to the other two corpses.

"don't do this again," is all Dazai leaves them with. his hand disappears from their shoulder and his footsteps fade into silence.

"i won't do it again… i won't do it again… i won't do it again… i won't do it again… i won't do it again…"

note — okay but listen. hear me out. i know people regularly love dazai, and dont get me wrong, i like him too a normal amount. hes a great character. but. port mafia dazai is a thing. and i think this dazai, specifically dark era dazai, after he becomes an exec (which we're getting into), was a piece of shit. sure, maybe having him kill puppies isnt the best idea ive had, but i dont think its too far fetched. he was an asshole, cruel and abusive (ie. akutagawa) and we should talk about it. he canonically doesnt like dogs for whatever reason and hes got this very particular attitude towards mc, so mix the two together, and it really doesnt matter to him if he murders a bunch of tiny little puppies in cold blood (fun fact: i got this idea while watching ep 5 of bsd wan haha) im saying, think fifteen light novel when he puts that dude out of his misery and keep shooting and shooting and shooting. think the day i picked up dazai light novel side b and the dude he tortures for info. think every crime we dont know of that the hunting dogs arrest him for. i cant be too off i know this fic may seem like its dazai slander and i hate the guy, but if anything, the fact that im willing to reach my gloveless fingers into his amygdala and pull apart his chemicals is a testament to how i actually do like him. i just want to tear him into pieces and do his character justice, cause who the fuck knows whats up with him. ive read the manga, ive watched the anime, ive read every light novel under the sun, from beast to fifteen to the day i picked up dazai, ive done it all. its not enough to understand how his brain is shaped exactly, but i have enough of a vague idea to manipulate it and have a take on him. this is my take on dazai thank you for reading. im coming for akutagawas throat finally lets go. drink water have day

[missauthorette]

Oh no.

I took a 5 hour energy expecting to not only have to finish clean my whole living area(downstairs living room, bathroom, spare bedroom and weird unused bar area) but also to have to be enthusiastic and welcoming to people i am not related to, and have met exactly 2 (two) times in my entire 23 years of life.  They arent even gonna be here until wednesday at the earliest now. And. Id kpt my personal maintenance up enough that everything was actually really easy to clean? SO.  Im done and just sitting here in my now weirdly uncluttered living space. And im not mildly dissociated for the first time in apparently almost a week (which in retrospect explains a lot).  i.  I should be doing something. But my hobbies will litter up the living room because they’re semi messy by nature? Like. I’ve got maybe a bit of dnd prep i can putter with but i dont know how well i can focus on that rn. 

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you get your period and jungkook just wants to be with you.

> fluff / wc: 2.9k

> warnings: period blood 😭 lots of it obviously you know how it is

note: helloooo i’m back :D this was requested. i think. it was probably a month ago so i don’t remember well IM SORRYYYY but here it is anon who was ranting about their period in my asks <3 i feel like i’ve been gone for long but it’s only been a week help i’ve been here and there for the past days hehe

—

you stand motionless beside the bed, staring at the blood stain on the grey bed sheets. you’re still too tired to function and to process the mess you’ve made this fine morning, and you can’t find it in yourself to move when the pain of period cramps is starting to blossom in your abdomen.

jungkook enters the bedroom to wake you up and to announce that breakfast is ready, but is met with the sight of your current predicament.

“oh, baby,” he sighs, wrapping his arms around you and planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “come on, let’s get you freshened up.”

it’s his first instinct to check on the inside of your thighs. this isn’t new. he used to worriedly mention it the first few months you lived together — asking if you’re feeling okay, if it’s normal to bleed that much, until he didn’t anymore. instead, he speaks through his actions.

you feel the wet wipes slide across the soft skin of your thighs, and you try to take over cleaning yourself but his quiet ‘let me’ leaves your heart feeling weaker. your eyes gloss over his hunched figure lovingly, wondering when the intimacy between the two of you started running this deep. with a silent whimper, you lean your weight against his hold when the lightheadedness become unbearable.

it’s the worst week of the month again. your period has always left you in pain, vulnerable, helpless. after the long years of experiencing this monthly, one would assume that you’d get used to it at some point, but you simply can’t. every month feels like the very first time, an evil-spirited visitor forcibly bursting through your front door on a random morning to wreak havoc in your peaceful temple.

this morning is one of those mornings. and this is usually when you feel grateful that you no longer live alone, that you won’t need to crawl your way to the bathroom because your super strong boyfriend never hesitates to swoop you in his arms.

you hold onto the bathroom sink to steady yourself on your feet, hazy eyes looking up at him hesitantly. “i’m okay. i can shower on my own.” his hands pulling up your shirt pauses.

his bunny teeth tugs at his lower lip, looking back at you with uncertainty. your baby hair is sticking on your forehead from sweat. it’s a thing, you’ve told him. hormones act up and increases your body temperature. it gets hard to breathe. aside from cleaning yourself up, that’s also part reason why you scramble to stand under the shower the moment you realize you’re on your period.

he’s worried sick, but of course, he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. “are you sure? you know i don’t mind at all, right?” and he says it genuinely, having catered to you in the bath about a thousand times, with or without period. he fixes your hair, putting them away from your face in a small effort to lessen your pain and discomfort.

you hold onto his wrist, the simple touch grounding you back into lucidity and reality. “hmm, i’m sure. i’d ask for help if i need it, you know that, too.”

“oh, you better.” he grimaces, unpleasant flashbacks flooding his mind. “i’ll get mad if i find you passed out in the shower again. i’m not even joking.”

“you almost cried that time. i think you’ll cry for real if there comes a next time.” you chuckle, the faint memories have already become something you can laugh about. you were the one who got into the accident, after all. but it still feels fresh to jungkook, who rushed you to the emergency room that morning.

“shut up. you scared the shit out of me.” he mumbles, lips shaping into a pout. why is it that he is in a constant fear of you accidentally hitting your head?

you smile at him softly. he’s been extra caring and attentive since then, constantly checking up on you to ask you how you’re feeling. he simply refuses to let anything bad to happen to you, or else he would go insane.

“i’ll get you some water first, then i’ll clean up while you shower, okay?”

“okay. thank you.” you respond meekly, letting go of his wrist.

he comes back with you naked behind the shower curtain, your head peeking out as you were waiting for him. he hands you a glass of water, and you watch him neatly place a fresh set of clothes and a pad on top of them on the clothing rack as you gulp down the refreshing liquid down your throat.

“finished!” you exclaim proudly, giving him back the empty glass. admittedly, it eased your lightheadedness a little bit.

“good girl.” he praises you, and you hide the shy smile on your face by drawing back the curtain. as he listens to the shower running, he cleans up the floor you’ve unknowingly stained in your debilitated state.

with your eyes closed, you lather your hair with shampoo. “babe, i’ll change the sheets now. you promise me you’re okay?” he checks up on you once again as the lovely boyfriend that he is.

to be honest, you just want this over with as soon as possible so you can lay back down and curl yourself up into fetal position. but still, you don’t really feel like you’re going to faint, so that means you’ve never been better. “yes, i’m okay. i’ll be quick.” you answer quietly, scratching at your scalp.

“not too quick. you might slip, or get dizzy. just breathe, you get it?!” he reminds you, jokingly raising his voice and making it deeper. you can almost hear his smile.

“got it, sir.” you copy him, giggling.

—

you enter the living room to find the couch filled with a bunch of pillows and your favorite fluffy blanket ready to engulf your weary vessel in a warm embrace. and of course, your boyfriend patiently waiting for you. like a kid on christmas day, his eyes light up when he sees you.

he reaches for your arm, immediately pulling you to sit on his lap. “how are you feeling?” he caresses the back of your head tenderly. you close your eyes at the comforting feeling.

“not good, not bad. just alive.” your head falls on his shoulder, nuzzling your face on his neck. “also dizzy. bad cramps. i’m hungry. but i’m sleepy. i don’t know what to do first.”

he juts out his bottom lip. he hates it when you’re in pain. he hates it. “i just reheated the waffles. eat first so you’ll wake up feeling better, is that okay?”

“with strawberries and bananas?” you look at him expectantly, the image of the waffles in your head making you salivate.

he chuckles at your cuteness, visibly feeling unwell but still cheerful in a way. “of course, baby.”

“hurry, hurry.” you crawl down his lap, moving over the blanket instead. since you’re feeling hot, sitting on it to feel the soft fabric against your skin is enough for now. however, he stays still on his spot for a few more seconds. his doe eyes meet your ingenuous ones, and he half smiles.

he scoots closer to you, leaving a small distance between your faces. his gaze falls down to your lips and he asks, “may i get my good morning kiss first?”

you’re the one to cross the distance, and he tilts his head to the side to mold his lips against yours. he feels a tug in his chest when your thumb rubs the supple skin of his cheek softly, contrasting your teeth playfully tugging at his lower lip. you don’t particularly do it to insinuate something, it’s just your favorite thing to do. and he gets drunk on it each time.

you’re also the one to pull away, pressing one last swift kiss on his lips. “there you go. may i have my breakfast now?”

“the things you do to me.” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head with a laugh. you roll your eyes and slap his ass jokingly as he gets up to leave, making him laugh harder.

with a groan, you pull your knees to your chest, putting a pillow in between in an attempt to relieve your cramps.

he comes back quickly, handing you the plate and setting down another glass of water on the center table. your stomach grumbles loudly at the addicting smell, and you look at him with wide eyes in embarrassment.

he throws his head back like a little kid, laughing without a sound as his body vibrates. “shut up!” you whine, hitting his arm lightly with a closed fist.

“my poor baby.” he coos, taking one of the forks from the plate and cutting out a bite sized piece of waffle. “let’s feed the little angry monster in your tummy.”

you don’t say anything anymore, not when the good food is working so well in soothing you. you chew with a delighted expression on your face, obediently biting the slice of banana he offers you. after that, you steal the fork from his hand and start eating on your own.

he turns on the television and flips through the channels until he settles with a drama you’re seeing for the first time. and then he leaves you again, and comes back with the obligatory heating pad.

you focus on eating and trying to follow the plot of the high school drama, figuring out whether it’s the fun or annoying type of cliche. on the other hand, jungkook takes away the pillow, puts the heating pad over your lower abdomen, and brings the pillow back to keep the heating pad securely pressed against you.

you immediately slip further into relaxation, the food giving you energy and the heating pad easing your cramps. “thanks, baby. i feel a lot better.” you voice out your appreciation, extending the plate of waffles to him. he did cook them, after all.

“i already had some earlier.”

you grimace, moving it closer. “you know i can’t finish all these. you brought two forks for a reason.”

“you got me.” he cackles, taking the plate from your hands to be the one to hold it for the both of you.

and you spend the next hour feasting on waffles and fruits, two fools laughing and exchanging commentary about a show you have zero idea what’s going on with.

after the food is wiped out, you gradually get more comfortable on the couch until you finally lay down. your eyes are fighting to stay open as a game show plays on the television after the drama.

jungkook is in your shared room, getting ready to go out for work. he has a schedule this afternoon, which means he will be home later than usual.

he comes out with a backpack already hanging on his shoulder. he squats down infront of you, blocking the screen. you frown as if you’ve actually been watching. “is there anything you want me to buy?” he asks, stroking your hair delicately.

“you smell nice.”

“thank you.” the random compliment makes him swoon.

you hum in response, twirling the lone strand of hair on his forehead with your finger. “need more pads. and the hand soap in the bathroom is running out. and i’m craving fishy ice cream.” the last item referring to the ice cream sandwich that is designed as a cute fish, a dessert you’ve grown very fond of.

“noted. here’s your phone, baby.” he sets down the gadget on the space infront of your chest. “call me if you need anything else. and just order in food for lunch and dinner so you won’t get tired.”

he is about to stand up again before he pauses, suddenly remembering something. “wait, don’t you need panty liners too? i saw that you ran out.”

you blink at him in astonishment, slightly overwhelmed with how observant and thoughtful he is. this is the first time he’s mentioning them. oh heavens, he does love you.

“oh right, i forgot. will you buy those too?”

“i will.” he smiles, proud of himself for remembering and bringing it up. “okay, i’m going. don’t forget my reminders.” he gives your cheek a peck, and you feel some of his lip balm staying on your skin. he gingerly brushes it away with the pads of his fingers.

“hmm, remember to stay safe, too.” he nods at your daily reminder, patting your head one last time.

you doze off to sleep the second he walks out of the door.

—

it’s past midnight when jungkook comes home from work. he finds you fast asleep on the same spot from this morning, except you’re wearing a new set of clothes. the television is playing an action movie he knows you fell asleep to. the heating pad that has ran cold is laying on the table, beside a covered white paper cup he suspects to be iced tea from either lunch or dinner. he takes a sip, and finds out that he is right (cherry! japanese food?), but it has turned flat and bland from the melted ice.

he gives you a forehead kiss before heading to the kitchen, throwing the cup in the trash can where he sees empty food containers as well. he’s relieved that you listened to him. he puts the packs of ice cream in the freezer, and plastic bags of chicken and pork in the designated meat container. he goes to the bathroom next, placing the pads and panty liners in your small cabinet. next off, he refills the hand soap dispenser.

once he has ticked off all the boxes in his to-do list, he brushes his teeth and takes a quick shower to wash away the hectic and tiring day he had at work.

at last, he crawls next to you on the couch only wearing his boxers, letting you use his arm as a pillow for your head. he would carry you to bed, but he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up from your peaceful slumber. more than that, he has noticed that you look more comfortable sleeping on the couch more than the bed.

you stir in your sleep, subconsciously draping your arm over his abdomen to pull him closer to your body and to snuggle against him for comfort and tranquility. he turns to the side so he can embrace you properly, burying his nose in your hair to breathe you in — to soothe the light headache caused by the travel back home.

but you haven’t been asleep that long, so his loving actions wake you up from your rest.

“jungkook?” your small voice whispers, and he feels your warm breath hitting his chest.

“yes, baby?”

“what time is it?”

he checks the time on your phone, which is on top of your abandoned pillow. “1:06am.”

“did you have dinner?” you ask right away, stroking his back gently.

“bibimbap.” he answers, and you feel his lips ghost over your forehead before he gives you a sweet kiss.

“need to change my pad.” you unwillingly pull away from him with a sigh, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“can i come with you?”

silence fills the air for a moment. “what? no.”

“i won’t look. i’ll turn around.” he tries reasoning with you.

you sit up and look at him in bewilderment. “still a no.”

he looks at you innocently, unwavering with his want to stay close to you. “i’ll wait outside the bathroom door.”

“you missed me?”

he purses his lips, contemplating with what to answer. “just a little bit.”

you hold back a smile at how being silly he is. “did you buy my ice cream?”

“you’re set for an entire week.” he answers proudly, corners of his eyes crinkling as he grins.

“that’s good.” you reply nonchalantly, climbing over him to get off the couch and to stand on your feet.

he follows your movements with a frown. “so can i come with?”

you yawn, tugging at his arm to force him to stand up. he quickly obliges, putting on his slides. “hurry, or i might fall asleep while changing.”

“please don’t.” he nervously laughs as you drag him with you all the way to the other side of the apartment.

he waits patiently by the door, until he notices the disorganized products on the vanity he left this morning, so he spends about a minute fixing those before returning to his post. he hears the water running and then some rustling. he perks up when he hears you whimper next.

“what happened?”

“almost tripped while putting on my panties.” your voice comes out echoey from inside the bathroom.

he slaps his forehead in distress. “i’m starting to think i should bubblewrap you.”

you gasp, opening the door to confront him. “to deliver me to someone else?!”

“i . . . did not mean it like that.” he trails off, biting the inside of his cheek.

you raise an eyebrow in question, and he smiles at you sweetly. “let’s eat ice cream together?”

his offer sounds tempting, however- “didn’t you brush your teeth already?”

his smile drops. “you think that would stop me from having a late night date with you?”

you shrug, stepping out of the bathroom to head to the kitchen. “alright then. makes sense since you’re a mint choco liker.”

he follows suit, whining outloud. “you’re so mean on your period!”

—

taglist! @lolalee24 @alanniys @jjkeverlast @queenofdragonsandcats @yvesismywife @enhypenslay @cramseys @witchfqllen @virgogentlejk @yoonqki @jeonwiixard @monilyv @bermudaisy @ameliejeannelaurent @takochelle + send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

[horrorstreet]

The Greatest Loss

Thomas Hewitt x Reader 1.9k words Warnings: Miscarriage, HEAVY ANGST, death, cursing A/n: Im so sorry yall. Not spell checked Request: I am in a bad angst mood but I will send a sweet one after this but Thomas's S/O being pregnant but loosing the baby after a victim escapes. (Any way you like) Request sent by: Anon

What started off as a normal day, you having been working outside with the animals you had convinced the family to keep, went south unbelievably fast. You wouldn’t have guessed that today was the day you would lose one of the most important things to you and neither would Tommy. Today was supposed to be a normal day of working outside (carefully of course) and tracking any development for the week.

You woke up next to your husband with tired eyes and laid still for a moment, the open window letting in a warm breeze and minimal light. The sun hadn’t yet breached the horizon casting a blue hue across the sky. It was muggy and warm which would undoubtedly leave you agitated later on that day but it couldn’t be helped. You still had things to attend to. So, with a long sigh and a sleepy yawn, you threw your legs over the side of your shared bed and sat there for a moment, getting yourself ready for all the work for the day. A gentle hand placed over your swollen tummy, a smile creeping onto your lips as you stared down at the bump with pride. “Goodmorning, baby.” Your heart swelled at the thought of bringing a child into this world with the wonderful man you married a wonderful few years ago. You weren't too terribly far along but you were a good way there. 

Thomas rolled over in his sleep and uncurled the arm that held his head from under his pillow to reach out for you only to feel nothing in his grasp causing his eyes to snap open. A low, gravely grunt escaped his throat which hadn't yet reached your ears. The man watched you cradle your baby bump and felt his heart skip a beat. That was his child in there. The child carried by his wonderful wife and he couldn’t be happier. He was patiently waiting for the arrival of his little devil, nervously but eagerly. It was scary becoming a father but he was sure it wasn't any less nerve racking for you who was going to be a mother soon. Thomas let out another grunt and it was caught by you this time. 

“Good morning, my love.” You grinned, carefully crawling over to his side of the bed and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead and then down to his unmasked lips. “Sleep well?” You asked, Tommy nodding in response and snaking his arms around your waist, ear pressed against your stomach. Your hand rested atop his head and stroked his long hair, pushing it away from his face and brushing through it to somewhat detangle it for him. “Okay, hon. I have to get up and feed the chickens, Okay?” You said, slowly slipping from his grasp as he sighed in playful annoyance. You had the pleasure of seeing his more playful and carefree side, sometimes having been married to him for so long. “Thank you~” A sing songy tune raised from your throat and reached his ears and you went off to the bathroom to brush your teeth and do your daily routine before getting dressed and exiting the room. 

At some point during all of your morning rush, the man had risen from the bed as well and put on his work clothes to help you out this morning in the garden along with moving chicken feed and carrying the heavy bucket of feed for you to not put any stress on the baby. Doc said it wasn’t good to lift heavy things during the pregnancy. You had both exited the house at the early hour of 5 am to start your work, your cute little farmers hat sat atop your head from when the sun did raise overhead. No sun would kiss your skin this year. You did your best to stop it from happening this year but alas, your shoulders were covered with a light tint of pink. 

You both had been working hard for a good 2 hours before the trouble began. It didn’t take long for Thomas to jump into action, running into the house to alert the others. You, on the other hand were left in the chicken coop to stay quiet and out of the way. Usually you would help but this was not the time to help out. Your child was to stay safe as could be. Thomas came back out and led you back into the house quietly, closing the door to your room. “Be careful, please..” You said to him, kissing his cheek before letting him go. And so you waited, and waited…. And waited. Until finally you heard the commotion. It was more than one person. Three people filled the house, heavy footsteps waking up the house so early in the morning, screams filling the air. 

You prayed and prayed that no one would come upstairs or at the very least, anywhere near your room but it was just wishful thinking. The footsteps from before ran past your room, one pair stopping in front of your door, it swinging open to reveal a blonde woman with a very obvious trail of blood dripping down her head. You were cuddled up on the bed with your blankets pulled over your body but quickly pushed them away to back yourself into a corner. The woman looked down at your stomach and her face twisted into even deeper horror. “Oh god…” She whined, quickly walking towards you. “Come on. We’re gonna get you out of here.” She hurriedly said, jumping at the sound of Thomas’s footsteps rounding the corner. “Come on!! I'm trying to help you!” She said, grabbing your arm and yanking you out of the room. You let out a scream when you both got to the top of the stairs to alert someone that you were in trouble and heard Tommy run to where you were. “YOU BITCH! Shit!!” The woman hissed, letting go of your arm and running past you down the steps. 

He tried to catch you, he really did. It was as if everything happened in slow motion. Your hand just about caught his fingers but they quickly slipped past and you took a great fall down the stairs. Your knees folded in towards your stomach and the impact collided the two, forcing all breath from your lungs and a very sharp pain flooding your abdomen. You let out a very loud shriek at the sensation and held your stomach, tears dripping down your face fast. Your face felt hot and everything hurt but most importantly, your stomach. It hurt so bad and you couldn’t get the pain to stop. Thomas rushed down the steps and tried checking on you but you only screamed for him to capture the group of idiots who ran into the house in the first place and he hesitantly did so. 

You cried hard while cradling your stomach as the screams of each and every victim rang throughout the house. You could hear the scratching of nails against walls and thuds as they kicked and scrambled as much as they could only to let out a final screech after being hung on their own hooks. After all was said and done, Luda was first to your side, eyes flooded with worry and a deep frown set in her features. “Oh, dear it’s going to be okay. Hang in tight.” She tried to soothe you and tell you everything was okay but you knew it wasn’t. You could tell. Thomas hurried up the stairs when everything was secure and stopped at the railing behind Luda watching your tear stained face look up at his own and letting another pained sob escape your mouth. “Tommy, something is wrong. I can feel it.” You cried out to him. He stepped forward and picked you up, trying to ignore the red that seeped through your pants and left a spot on his arm. You wouldn’t stop crying. You were sure your baby was hurt. You don’t know how you knew, you could just feel a change. A sense of impending doom. 

A month or so after you had visited the hospital after the accident, you laid in bed still as could be with an arm draped over your stomach. You hadn’t stopped crying since and there had even been some days where tears could flow down your puffy cheeks from having cried so much. Thomas nor you had been the same after losing your child and the house was quiet. The quietest it’s ever been. You and Tommy mourned the loss of your little one before you both got to see them come into the world and that’s what killed you the most. You wanted nothing more than to see their little face. Hear their little cries and feel their small hand wrap around your pinky but you would never get that chance now. Thomas, on the other hand, was beating himself up everyday. If he was faster. If he would have hid you somewhere else or prevented those people from even entering the house in the first place this wouldn’t have happened. He could have seen his child and held them in his large arms to protect them for years to come but he fucked up and let it all slip away. He let you slip away too. You hadn’t smiled for so long. Nothing seemed to get through to you. 

The night Thomas came home from the hospital after receiving the news, he tortured those no good bastards for days and days before they finally gave in. He got rid of those legs and placed them on his work table while going in and removing everything they didn’t need before taking the final blow. If they were close to dying from blood loss, he would patch them up just at the perfect time to keep them alive just to do it all over again. At some point, he had enough and ended it all before breaking down in the privacy of his work space. Tears escaped his eyes and strangled sobs escaped past his lips, a more than rare occurrence. He never cried. Not in front of you or his family. Nobody would see him like that. He felt weak in that moment. Like he had lost so much in one swoop. What he would give to go back in time. To see you happy and to catch you just in time. 

In the meantime, Thomas comforted you every night. His chest and in his arms became the only safe place you could retreat to. Your room felt different. The bed was too cold without him. No one brought you a sense of peace until he came around from working around the house. You felt pitiful letting him do all of the work by himself while you laid and did nothing. He had lost something that day too and you knew it but you just couldn’t bring yourself to get up and that was okay with him. He would take care of you for as long as you needed to grieve for what you once had. What you both once had. It was safe to say that the next child you two brought into this world would be the most protected thing to step foot on earth. Every step. Every word. Nothing was going to get its nasty grasps around your precious angel. Not ever again.

[catboys-need-milk]

♡ nsfw content ahead ♡

You had noticed the fact that your cat boy had been acting differently as of late. Taking ice cold baths instead of the usually steaming hot showers that let his skin a little red. How he feverishly rubbed his neck against your arm at every chance he got. His cheeks flushed a little bit more than usual.

You only truly started to worry when you noticed the fact that certain hoodies and sweaters started to go missing. At first you didn't mind, finding it cute how needy he was.

That was until you found him curled up on your bed, stripped down surrounded by various items of your clothing, whimpering needily into your sheets as he uncomfortably shifted around.

"Kitten?" You asked quietly, his ears perking up, tail wagging.

As you walked over you found him with a flushed face, eyes tear stained mouth drooling. He was practically shaking as he finally saw you for the first time today. Everything suddenly fell into place: the cuddling, the sudden excess neediness, and clothes hoarding.

He was in heat.

You instantly drop onto the bed letting him crawl into your lap purring lovingly against your stomach, resting his chin on your breasts.

"Dear, why didn't you tell me?" You inquired with a frown, showering the kitten in love. He was preening as you played with his hair and massaged his neck.

"Mmm..." He whimpered out trying to find the words. "Didn't wanna bother you...." He whined into your skin as he pawed at your stomach, nuzzling into your skin. Happily taking in your scent.

"Does my kitty wanna nurse?"

He nodded vigorously, happily watching as you lifted off of your shirt. He looked down at your soft skin practically drooling as you teasingly pressed your breasts together for him. He took a second trying to process his emotions as you unclipped your bra. He whimpered, waiting for permission from the other.

You felt your skin flush, just watching the desperate kitten in your lap made your heart quiver. His flushed skin sensitive to the touch, blushed cheeks, and drooling mouth. All for you.

You nodded for him to which he happily leaned down taking one of your breasts into his mouth, the cool taste of milk instantly calming him. You shuddered lightly, he was normally more calm and calculated making sure to leave you markless but here- that was a different story.

He was desperate for comfort, biting down a bit as he purred at the taste, wanting more. He looked up to, eyes half lidded and drunk on lust. You looked down, flushed, whining lightly. The roughness made you gasp with joy, not enough to cause discomfort but just enough to make you that pleasure.

He slowed down curling himself onto you as best he could, practically falling asleep. You giggled watching how beautifully the way the sun hit his skin allowed him to practically glow.

You continued to run your hands through the kitten’s hair before finally realizing he’d fallen asleep mid meal. You gently move the other off your chest and wipe his mouth pressing a kiss to his head before putting your shirt back on. You let the other rest, knowing that the next wave of heat would be much more intense and lewd.

**

lil something for you~ ♡

-🥛

AaaaaaHHhhhh this is so sweet!!!

My gracious anon this is a lot, thank you for sending this!!!!! ♡

And omg poor kittyboy?? All needy and in heat~

Im sure when he wakes up he'll be needing even more of your attention than before, it'll be exhausting.

You know he's awake from the sudden resuming of his suckling, only this time he's also slowly rutting his hips against you. Erect cock pressing against you and twitching, even now with just this minor amount of friction.

"...f-ffuck....I..I need to......f-fuck....." he whimpers, as he continues to pathetically hump your thigh ♡

hehehe thank you again milkcup anon!!! And I hope your day/evening is going well!! ^_^

（ฅ＾・ﻌ・＾）ฅ

[absolutelyfizzing]

angels and demons

warren worthington x reader fluff

@shuckfaced-fangirl Hi! can I request a warren worthington x female mutant reader where her powers are shadow summoning? So I guess everyone in the school kind of views her as some sort of demon? With a lot of fluff? Thank you!!

Description - Y/N is a shadow summoner and is isolated from her peers. Warren helps her see that not everyone fears her and that she is worthy of affection.

warnings - its so fluffy. fem pronouns. some angsty stuff (isolation, depression, sadness), one innuendo, devastating fluff, warren being an angel. i tried to make it POC inclusive, please let me know if it feels restricting or excluding and i will edit it.

word count - 3700, i got carried away

A/N - im so sorry this took so long, i took a break from writing while i am working on moving to college. i will still be spotty for the next few weeks but hopefully, i will post a few more things in that time and then get back on a normal schedule. also, thanks so much for this request, i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope it is something you enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

You walked through the halls with a lowered head. You knew that you made others uncomfortable and so you chose to try to make yourself as small and unthreatening as possible. You had been 'gifted' powers with which you could manipulate and create darkness. You were a shadow summoner. That wasn't a name that many found reassuring or comforting.

There were a few who could see past it and who was close to being what you might call friends but those people were few and far between. There were overwhelmingly more people who believed that you must have been a scary and mean person, that you were some sort of demon. This couldn't have been further from the truth if one were to look past appearances. Your shadow was larger and darker than that of your peers and it trailed behind you with a mind of its own, moving and growing without you even meaning for it to happen. Your hands were constantly covered in something darker and dustier than the rest of your skin, a deep and pure black. It trailed from the tips of your fingers and faded on your forearm so it looked as though you had just dipped your arms into a chimney or that shadows were crawling up your arms.

When you first got them, you thought they were sort of cool. They made you look sort of goth and that was fun. That feeling quickly faded when you saw how others, even your family, reacted. They said it was a curse from hell. You were barely convinced otherwise.

You sat away from others at the school during free periods. During lunch you sat alone and in the sun when you could, you hoped it might make others be less scared of you as it might make you look brighter but your shadow, dark and ominous, maintained a spot near you. You wore clothes that made you look more approachable to try to maintain that you weren't scary. Your brightly colored outfit didn't ever seem to work though, no matter how hard you tried.

You looked down at the food in your hands, the sandwich only half-eaten, and you noted your hands. They were so normal looking, your nails were well kept and you thought they were a good size. That they might even be a good size for someone to hold. The only thing was the unnaturally colored dust that seemed to cover them. It was a cool black, it glistened and sparkled in the sun when your fingers moved. It never moved or transferred to anything else, always stuck securely to your skin. You were distracted by the way your fingers seemed to shine when a shadow came near yours, wings outlined in it. You looked up to see a tall blond boy above you with curly hair and bags under his eyes. He nodded to a spot on the grass near you.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

You shook your head and even scooted away from the spot to give him more space despite the fact that you were in a large field.

"Do you want me to move?" You asked gently, wondering if maybe he wanted this particular spot and you took it from him unknowingly.

"I mean, I think that would sort of take away the whole point of me trying to sit with you." He smirked and you felt blood rush to your cheeks. "I like your hands" He hummed and you looked at him in shock. When his eyes met yours you tilted your head a bit.

"They don't bother you?" You tried to speak softly.

"No, I think they're awesome. They make you look punk." He smiled and you felt the corners of your mouth tug up a bit too.

"I like your wings." You almost mumbled as you allowed your gaze to move to the large feathery wings behind him. They moved in the wind and you found yourself wanting to run your fingers through them. "They make you look like an angel." You smiled and he groaned dramatically.

"I'm trying to look grunge." He pouted and you giggled a bit. At the sound, he looked up at you and blushed a bit. "Maybe we should trade."

"If I could trade you I would. Everyone is scared of how I look." You gazed back at the grass.

"I'm not." His simple statement made butterflies erupt in your stomach and you smiled a bit. You looked back at him and made eye contact for a moment.

"What's your name?" You asked and he maintained his gaze into your eyes. It was the most contact or conversation with someone else you'd had in a long time.

"I'm Warren." He smiled a bit and stuck a hand out to you to shake. You looked at his hand in shock. Nobody ever voluntarily touched your hands. Most of them worried that whatever was on them would spread. You hesitantly brought your hand to his, purposefully giving him plenty of time to remove his hand if he felt uncomfortable. But he didn't. Instead, your hand reached his and he shook it before letting go as if it was no big deal.

"I'm Y/N." You smiled a bit more and you felt a giggle come out of you from the joy of realizing this wasn't a dream, that someone was trying to talk to you and they weren't afraid.

"Is my name that funny?" He teased.

"No, I just-" you paused to think, "it's been so long since anyone has done this with me."

"Talked to you?" He questioned, obviously expecting you to say no and explain what you meant. Instead, you just nodded and his heart clenched for a moment. "Well, you can stick with me then."

"I don't know if you want your reputation to take a hit like that."

"My reputation is 'the angry and damaged kid', I'm sure it can handle the breaking news of me talking to a nice and pretty girl." He reassured before he even realized what he was saying. You could have cried at the feeling that rose up in your chest.

After that day, you stuck to his side like glue and he took no issue with it. The more you got to know him the more you appreciated the fact that he had taken you in. With his help, over the coming months, he helped you develop a stable friend group. That group included people like Ororo and Jane who had heard rumors about you and never bothered to check and see if they were real. They apologized profusely, especially Jean as she felt like she could have easily found out that you were kinder than she thought with her abilities but just had never done so, and you gladly accepted, just happy to be within a group.

You and Warren had developed a reputation. He was overly protective and gruff while you were overly nice and empathetic. You balanced each other well and if you were honest, you were in love with him. That always felt weird to say, you'd never been in love with anyone before but every second you spent with him made you more and more sure of your feelings.  

When you and Warren were together, you would daydream about what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. Being held by him and wrapped in his wings. Getting to play with his unkempt hair. Holding his hand.

Sometimes he would try to encourage you to hold his hand. He would hold it out to you when he was helping you jump down from somewhere high. He would ask you to hand him things and then make decisive contact as he took it from you. He knew that it meant a lot to you, you practically gasped and blushed every time he did it. He had never met anyone so touch starved. He wanted to give you all the affection that you craved.

Unfortunately, Warren was rather oblivious, especially towards things like feelings and emotions. He had no clue that you had any interest in him, even though he hoped you did every day. If he wasn't so attached to your friendship, he might ask you out. Instead, he tried to maintain a friendly distance so he didn't cross any lines while also being as affectionate with you as he could be. You followed a similar path.

The person caught in the middle of this was poor Jean Gray. she had watched you pine over each other since you met and had heard every thought that went through both of your heads. She knew you would never complain or ask for help about anything so she liked to keep tabs on your thoughts every once in a while to make sure you were okay. Still, she tried her best to not listen very often or when you were thinking about anything very personal, she honestly did. But she was a romantic. All she wanted was for you two idiots to get together but you were both oblivious. She decided, probably 3 months into you becoming friends, that she had to do something about it.

She was sitting on your bed while you sat across your bedroom on your small couch. She fiddled with her thumbs while she tried to ignore your constant thoughts about Warren, his hands, his wings, his smile. She was exhausted. she took a small breath while she planned how she would try to say this to you.

"Do you want to know what I heard today?" She called and you looked up at her from the book you were pretending to read.

"Do you mean heard or 'heard'?" You laughed and she rolled her eyes.

"Either." Then she tilted her head. "Both."

"Yeah, I wanna know! What's it about?" You asked while leaning forward in your seat. Jean always had the best gossip to tell because she could literally hear it.

"Warren." She stated simply and watched your reaction. You flushed and stopped breathing for a moment.

"Wha-" you stuttered, "what about him?"

"That he has a thing for you." she winked and you flushed even more.

"You're lying." You assured, a questioning look on your face.

"I'm not and I'm tired of watching you two longing after one another while the rest of the school watches." She smiled and your heart picked up.

"I thought I told you not to look in my head!" You scolded but you weren't actually all that upset. You knew that it was very hard for her to control.

"I cant help it! Both of you think so loud. And I wouldn't have to anyway, Ororo mentioned it to me the other day and she definitely cants read minds." She giggled and you smiled a bit.

"Does he actually like me?" You almost whispered in disbelief.

"Yes! He's been obsessed with you since you started talking."

"But like he would want to actually go-"

"Y/N, I swear to god. If you don't go and talk to him right now I'm going to have a fit." She laughed and you glared at her.

"Okay okay fine, I'm going," you grumbled as you stood and walked toward your door. "If you are wrong I'm gonna be so upset with you."

She just laughed again and you started to walk down the hallway. You thought he might be in his room or outside. You decided to check his room first.

You knocked on his door but you were met with silence. You tried the handle and it moved.

"Warren?" you paused, "I'm coming in," you warned and pushed the door open. When you looked inside, he wasn't there. You took a moment to gaze around his room, it wasn't the first time you had been in there but every time was a bit exciting as you got to see all of the things he had that represented him. He had a boombox and a CD collection on his dresser. Some of his clothes were thrown around his room haphazardly and some of his drawers were open. You looked at the wall next to you where he kept photos that you took. You would carry around a camera or take pictures on your phone of everyone around campus. He always asked for them and then printed them out so he could hang them up. He had even managed to get a couple of you. You smiled a bit before heading back into the hallway, closing the door behind you.

You instead moved towards the door to get out onto the lawn where you thought he would probably be. He often sat under the big oak trees or on the roof if he wanted to get away from people. When you made it outside, you looked around for him.

"Y/N!" you heard him shout. You turned to look for him and saw his silhouette flying from the roof. You paused to admire him and his wings. He always looked so angelic to you. So powerful. You thought about how your power emanated darkness. That you would never appear angelic to someone and would more likely look like a demon. You looked down at your hands for a second, a habit you had when you were thinking about your powers. They sparkled a bit in the sun but it did little to quell the distaste in your mouth.

Suddenly there was a shadow in front of you that was not part of the darkness that surrounded you.

"Y/N?" he asked gently. "Are you okay?" he tried not to startle you. Being empathetic wasn't something that came naturally to him, but he tried extra hard around you. he noticed the way you were staring at your hands. The growth of your shadow as you thought about your powers more. He moved to touch one of your hands but you flinched back a bit. He brought his hand back and looked at you with concern. "Whats wrong, angel?" He asked lightly and you looked up at the pet name. He had started calling you that soon after you became friends. You thought it was out of irony but he really was convinced that you were some sort of angel. He also loved the way that your eyes would light up when he said it. You stared at him for a moment in silence.

"Do I scare you?" You asked quietly and your voice shook. He looked surprised by your question and you were surprised too. You didn't know why you were suddenly getting emotional. Why this was now all you could think about. Why it had to come up now when you were trying to express your feelings for him. Instead of responding he reached out to your hand, holding onto it when you let him, despite flinching away slightly. He started to walk, leading you toward the same tree you had met under. Once you both reached it he sat down and looked up at you, waiting for you to sit down too. You did, maybe a bit farther away from him than you needed to be.

"Do you think you scare me?" he asked genuinely and you took a second to think, looking back down at your hands which were now pulled back into your lap.

"I scare me," you stated simply and paused.

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know." You mumbled. "I think I freak everyone out. Including you I guess." Your voice was quieter than you meant it to be. you really hadn't thought about it in a little while. It had been on your mind plenty when you first started talking to him. You were extra conscious of not pushing him to be around you or near your shadow. You knew that he would move away if he needed to but you also had so many memories of everyone around you fearing you, running from you, telling you that you were a curse. Instead of responding he held his hand out in between the two of you, palm up. You knew that he was inviting you to take it but that he wouldn't push you to. Instead of taking it, you placed your hand near his on the ground and he left his next to yours, not trying to take it if you didn't want him to.

"You don't." He let out, sounding sure of himself and slightly pained. "You don't scare me." You looked at each other. He had tears in his eyes. He was never one to get emotional so you were surprised. "Do I scare you?" he questioned, already knowing your answer but trying to prove a point.

"Of course not." You sighed.

"You have a lot more reason to be afraid of me than I have to be afraid of you." he looked at your hand again. "I'm the one who has a rough history, I'm the one who is angry and has a reputation of being aggressive."

"But, Warren, your mutation is-"

"Mutation has nothing to do with it, Y/N." he sighed. "You have control over your abilities, I have control over mine. The only difference between us is our personalities and I have never had any reason to fear you or dislike you. You're the kindest person I know and everyone in your life who has let you think that there was something wrong with you was terrible. And that was on them."

Your hand reached for his and you laced your fingers together. He squeezed your hand and ran his thumb over the back of it.

"I love you." The words came out of your mouth faster than you could think and you sucked in a breath, almost hoping he didn't hear you. When you glanced up at him he had a gentle smile on his face. He brought the back of your hand up to his face and kissed it before placing it against his cheek.

"I love you too, Y/N" He reached out for your waist and pulled you toward his lap, giving you plenty of time to give him a sign that you were uncomfortable. Instead, you put your leg over his waist so you were straddling his thighs. You held one of his hands in between you and fiddled with his fingers, admiring how your hands contrasted with his. Somehow, him holding your hand made it seem less out of place. You almost felt pride.

You were suddenly surrounded by warmth and shadow, the sounds of the quad around you becoming muted. You looked up around you and his wings were wrapped around the two of you, closing you off into your own little world. You felt the urge to reach out to them but you had never asked. You had never seen him let anyone touch them and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Go ahead." your eyes snapped to his in shock.

"Warren, you never let any-"

"I want you to," he admitted and it was true. He had thought many times about asking you to run your fingers through his wings. He would never complain about it but they were a little high maintenance and also sensitive. He never let anyone touch them because most people weren't gentle or he didn't trust them. He knew though that you were the gentlest person on Earth and that he could count on you to be careful.

At his reassurance, you smiled a bit. You reached a hand out to the part of his wing next to his shoulder. You both gasped a bit when your fingers made contact. Warren was a bit surprised at how sensitive they were to your touch and it had been a long time since anyone but himself had touched them. You were entranced by how soft they were. The feathers were delicate and there were so many. You were very careful in how you moved your hand along his wing, looking at him often to see if he was uncomfortable. As you were carding your fingers through his feathers, one came out. You gasped slightly horrified that you had hurt him.

"Hey, it's okay!" he rushed out as he saw your panic. "They just sort of... shed sometimes." He almost seemed embarrassed. Feathers would come off occasionally and he would often have to brush through them himself to release all of the loose feathers, sort of like brushing your hair. He reached to pick up the feather and held it in front of you for you to take. You gladly did and you twirled it in your fingers. "Maybe sometime, if you wouldn't mind, of course, you could help me brush through them?" he asked quietly and you smiled.

"Yeah of course. They seem like they might be a lot of work." you were touched that he trusted you to do that and you thought about how hard it must be to take care of them by himself when they were so big and most of his wings were behind him.

"You should see what it's like to shower with them," he grumbled and then his eyes widened at what he had said. He hadn't meant it to be an innuendo but now he was worried he offended you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and you fell into a fit of giggles.

"I might have to take you up on that offer." Your gentle gaze made him blush. He had never felt this comfortable with anyone. This safe. He decided right then that he would do anything you ever asked of him.

After that day, you and Warren became the cutest couple at the school. You were opposites in multiple ways and your relationship was more wholesome than any of your friends could handle. You got more confident in yourself and your abilities and he allowed himself to be more vulnerable. everyone agreed that you were a match made in heaven.

[jcwriting]

There’s A First Time For Everything

summary ↬ namjoon has never had a blowjob before. you’re about to change that.

pairing ↬ idol!namjoon x reader

genre ↬ smut, pwp (im not kidding there is zero plot to this), fluff, (new) established relationship 

word count ↬ 2.8k

warnings ↬ swearing, oral (m receiving), face fucking, choking, reader has a painful thigh kink (don’t we all), overuse of the word thigh

authors note ↬ listen,,,,i saw that picture of namjoon in shorts (you know the one) and i just,,,lost it. also, this is my first time posting fic for bts and im shitting bricks about it so pls be nice to me!!!!! i hope you enjoy this quick (thirsty) little ode to namjoon’s thighs. pls let me know what you think!

also, the gif above haunts me. everyday. okay, enjoy.

“I want to give you a blowjob.”

Namjoon choked on the swig of water he had just taken. The two of you were watching TV. Actually, Namjoon was watching TV. You were sitting on the floor at the coffee table with your laptop out to answer some work emails. But, you were distracted. Specifically by Namjoon’s shorts. More specifically, Namjoon’s thighs in said shorts. The smooth golden skin was begging for your lips and your fingers itched to scratch your nails down to his knees. Then, your eyes naturally glided further up to the apex of his thighs. Where you knew his cock was resting. Again, just begging to be in your mouth. The thought of your jaw and throat aching while he lost it above you consumed your mind. All hope was lost then.

“You…um. Sorry. You want to do that?”

You cocked your head to the side. “Uh, yeah. Wait, did you want me to ask? I’ll ask. Can I give you a blowjob? Please?”

Namjoon chuckled. “No, no. You don’t have to ask. It’s just, y’know, are you sure?”

“Yes,” you said slowly. What was he not getting? “Do you not want one?”

“No! No, oh my god. I want that. I definitely want that. That’s not the issue.”

“Then, what is?”

Namjoon blew out a breath that fluttered the hair that rested on his forehead. He cupped the back of his neck and rubbed awkwardly. “I’ve never had someone do that to me before. So-”

“What?” You would have been less shocked if he had told you that he was a closeted furry. The two of you had only been dating for about a month so the in-depth what things did your ex do in bed conversation hadn’t been fully fleshed out yet. You knew he had lost his virginity to his previous girlfriend and they had had a healthy sex life, so you had just assumed that him receiving oral was part of that. Yet…this man, this absolute Adonis of a man had never gotten his cock sucked? It was the most absurd thing you had ever heard in your life. “Hold on. You had a girlfriend before me, right? She didn’t go down on you? Ever?”

Namjoon looked like he wanted the couch to swallow him whole but you barely noticed. You were too busy experiencing the shock of your fucking life. “I did. But she - uh, no. She didn’t want to and I didn’t want to pressure her.”

Your heart melted a little before you shut your laptop. Healthy sex life your ass. You were sucking this mans dick and that was final. “I’m going to give you a blowjob, Namjoon. Right now.” You turned to him and began crawling forward. His eyes flew to your ass that swayed in the air and he audibly swallowed. “If you don’t want me to then you need to tell me within the next thirty seconds.”

“Oh God,” he whimpered and spread his legs a little wider. You were salivating. “Yes. As long as you’re sure-” Whatever he was going to say was cut off by a heavy groan as your hands slid up his thighs. Finally, you smiled to yourself as you bent your fingers and allowed your nails to dig into the meat of his inner thigh.

“I have a thing for your thighs,” you murmured. “Never realized I had a thigh kink until I met you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want to ride your thighs. Will you let me?”

“God, yes.” Namjoon went to reach for your arms but you batted his hands away. This wasn’t about you right now. This was about him. You reached for your hair and quickly pulled it into a sloppy bun. His eyes followed your movements and you didn’t miss how the bulge in his shorts twitched.

“I need you to tell me if I do something that you don’t like, okay? I want to make you feel good. Don’t be afraid to talk to me. If you like something, let me know. If not, then definitely let me know.” Namjoon nodded feverishly. His eyes were almost black and his chest was straining against his white top. You smirked to yourself. This was going to be fun.

Bending down, you pressed a kiss to the top of his thigh. Your mouth dragged along his skin and you relished in the way he quivered beneath you. Following the seam of his leg before doing the same on the other. Nails pressed little crescent moons into his flesh before your thumbs smoothed over the marks. Your nose lifted the loose material of his shorts up to his hips and skimmed the exposed areas as your tongue reached out to flick the little freckle that found a home on his hip before you set your sights on his dick that was straining for you. Lips that had previously kissed his skin now moved to the fabric that jailed his heavy cock. Sitting back, your thumb traced the underside of his dick softly before you barely brushed over the head. The cotton dragged against your finger and Namjoon huffed loudly before lifting his hips further into your touch.

“Don’t tease.” Namjoon’s voice had lowered a few octaves and the deep tone had you clenching your thighs. His hands fisted the pillows next to him and you could feel the restraint he was exacting on himself through the trembling of his muscles.

“I’m not,” you promised. “I’m just making sure you’re ready.”

“I am. Swear to God.”

Unable to keep the smile off your face, you nodded and reached for the waistband of his shorts. He lifted his hips and helped you shove the material to his ankles. That was when you realized two things.

One, he was right. His cock laid thick and proud on his stomach and was weeping for you. He was of average length but his girth let you know that were going to struggle to fit him in your mouth. The thought only made you shiver in delight. A phantom pain panged in your gut when you took in the slight curve of the head, knowing it was going to hit everything you needed.

Second, he had the prettiest cock you had ever seen. You never thought dicks were pretty. In fact, you were pretty resolute on that thought. Most likely due to the disgusting amount of unsolicited dick pics you had received in your life. But, Namjoon’s?  You wanted to take a picture, frame it and admire it whenever you wanted to. The skin that stretched around his width was a shade darker than the rest of him and his cock head, a pretty red color, made you want to see how far down you could get the flush to go.

You wrapped your hand around his length and twisted up. Namjoon’s back arched off the couch and a string of curses fell off of his lips. Your thumb collected the glistening pre-cum on his tip and used it to smooth your palm over him.

“I normally don’t say this,” you said as you became infatuated with the vein that ran along the underside of his cock, “but if you want to send me a dick pic, I definitely won’t complain. Like, ever.”

“B-baby, I’ll give you whatever you want. Just keep doing what you’re doing.” Namjoon moaned, throwing his head back when your thumb pressed against the delicate skin that resided under the his mushroom tip.

You giggled lightly. “So sensitive. I’ve barely even started.”

Namjoon opened his mouth to say something but you didn’t give him a chance. You licked the vein that had caught your eye earlier and followed it to the top before enveloping the head of him into the heat of your mouth. You relished the broken groan that he let out. Several kitten licks were placed on his weeping slit before taking him deeper. You worked slowly, gauging his reaction as you took him further. He responded well, panting and moaning in encouragement, head still thrown back against the couch.

“You can look at me, you know,” you reminded him as he popped out of your mouth. Kisses were mouthed over the soft skin that was wrapped around the steel of his erection. Your hand used your spit as lube to tug him harder.

“Can’t,” Namjoon gasped. “Gonna blow my load if I watch you.”

“That’s kind of the whole point.”

“Not yet,” he whined. “I don’t want this to be over.”

You pinched his hip until he met your gaze, offering him a sweet smile. “This isn’t going to be the last time I get on my knees for you, baby.” You held his wide-eyed stare as you took him back into your mouth. Ignoring how his hands seemed to flutter around you, unsure of what to touch, you focused on sliding him further into your mouth. Then, you sucked hard, using your tongue to lave at the warm skin.

Namjoon lost it above you. He released a strangled moan that caused your core to absolutely gush. One hand finally tangled into your hair and the other gripped your shoulder with warning, which you ignored. You merely sucked and pulled harder. Namjoon’s hips flexed, causing the tip of him to slam into the back of your throat. Not expecting it, you couldn’t help but cough around him as your eyes watered.

“Oh, God! I’m so sorry.” Namjoon used the hand on your shoulder to yank you off. His thumbs wiped at the tears that trickled down your cheeks, the concern etched across his face made you feel warm inside. “Shit, are you okay?”

“I am, promise,” you assured him. “Just give me a second, okay?”

He nodded while pushing back some of your hair that had escaped your sloppy up-do. You gently removed his hands before looking down at his length that was still clutched in yours. As much as he had shocked you, the thought of him fucking your face was not something you shied away from. Really, it was exactly what you wanted. But you needed to prep a bit first.

When you took him back in your mouth, you focused on relaxing the muscles in your throat. Breathing deeply through your nose, you slowly worked yourself further down until your nose was pressed into the base of him. Spit trickled out of your mouth and over his balls as you pulled back. You did this a few more times, working past your gag reflex and allowing your throat to get used to the intrusion.

Namjoon was anything but quiet as you deep throated him. It was honestly the sexiest thing you had ever heard. While your past lovers hadn’t necessarily been quiet, the praises Namjoon kept raining on you and the beautiful noises he made were music to your ears. Your body certainly agreed. Your cunt ached to be filled and the fabric of your panties was soaked through. But, you ignored your needs and focused on the panting man before you.

“Okay,” you nodded as you popped him out of your mouth. “I’m ready.”

It took Namjoon’s brain a few seconds to process what you said. He shifted restlessly on the couch cushions as you ran your hands over his thighs. “Huh? W-what did you say?”

“I’m ready for you to fuck my face.”

His pupils were blown wide as he stared at you with an open mouth. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“What if I want it to hurt?” You stared at him while purring the words that was his undoing. Namjoon’s eyes got impossibly darker as his chest expanded with a sharp intake of breath. He spread his legs wider and gently held the back of your head as he guided you down his shaft. You held eye contact with him as he cautiously raised his hips to meet your lips. Once he saw no signs of distress from you, he began thrusting more consistently as you bobbed your head to match his rhythm.

His steady movements didn’t last long but it didn’t bother you. You were more than happy to take over for him. Like you said, this wasn’t going to be the last time you worshipped his cock. The two of you had plenty of time to figure things out. Plus, knowing how much you clearly affected him gave you all the motivation you needed.

Your throat began to tense up again so you focused your attentions on his sensitive head and let your hands twist up to your mouth and back down. The sounds of your palm gliding along his slick skin and your lips sucking tightly filled the spacious living room. They were nearly drowned out by Namjoon, though.

“Baby, oh f-fuck…shit,” he keened loud and hard when your other hand moved to brush over his swollen balls. You cupped them gently and rolled them between your fingers. Even as he was practically thrashing against you, hips thrusting in an aimless rhythm, the hand he had originally placed on the back of your head remained there. He applied no pressure, allowing you to set the pace, but it also seemed to ground him. To remind him that this wasn’t a dream.

“M’gonna cum. Baby…baby, I’m gonna cum. Soon, oh God,” he babbled. You appreciated the warning but you didn’t need it. He was twitching wildly in your mouth and your tongue was coated with the salty essence of his pre-cum. In response, you ran your index finger on that sensitive spot behind his balls and that’s when Namjoon exploded.

Thick ropes of white shot down your throat, causing you to almost gag. Instead, you swallowed past the reflex and took as much as you could. By the fourth stream, a bit had managed to slip past the suction of your mouth and dribble down his cock. You were quick to clean up, licking at the mess the both of you had made before returning to his tip. You suckled the sensitive head until Namjoon practically shoved you away from him.

When you looked up you were met with a glorious sight. Namjoon was completely fucked out, twitching against the couch and his broad chest heaving for air. Sweat beaded his sharp jaw line and trickled down the column of his throat. His face was tilted towards the ceiling and his hair was haphazardly pushed off of his forehead. He looked completely ruined and entirely yours.

“Was that good?” You asked softly as you rose to your feet, ignoring the sharp ache in your knees. Namjoon made an unintelligible sound in the back of his throat that you took as a resounding yes. He cracked his eyes open and looked at you with such adoration you couldn’t help but blush.

“Really?” He murmured. “Don’t get shy on me now. You can’t just suck the life out of me one second and then start blushing like a school girl immediately after.”

“It’s called duality,” you muttered as your cheeks flushed darker. Namjoon snorted and reached for you, pulling you onto his lap. His spent cock nestled between your thighs and his eyes rolled back into his head when he felt the simmering heat through the fabric of your shorts.

“I need five minutes. Then, I swear to God, I’m going to eat you out like you deserve.”

Giggling, you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the strands of hair at the base of his neck. “You don’t have to. This wasn’t a quid pro quo situation. I gave you a blowjob because I wanted to. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“It’s either you give me five minutes so that I can eat you out or ten minutes so I can fuck you into next week. You decide.”

His determination brought a smile to your face until you took in the purple bags under his eyes and how his eyelids kept drooping lower and lower. “How about a nap first, hm? I’ll decide after you get some sleep.”

Namjoon looked like he wanted to protest but you kissed him instead. His argument clearly wasn’t that strong because when you pulled away he was nodding in resignation. You helped him pull up his shorts and squealed when he lifted you up into his arms. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you let him carry you into the bedroom and wrap the both of you up in the comforter. You hadn’t planned on sleeping with him, wanting to get more work done while he slept. But the faint scent of his aftershave and the soft way he caressed your spine could lull an insomniac to sleep. Who were you to refuse?

“Wake me up when you decide,” Namjoon whispered into your hair. You nodded against his chest, and within minutes the two of you slipped into a deep slumber. Happy and content.

©jcwritings Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

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