#not confident enough to attempt the body lol

[navysealt4t]

guys i drew jay :3

[muniimyg]

♡ 03: where art thou? why not upon-eth me?

series m.list // taglist

note: u can all thank my prof for pushing back my case study due date 😍 ,, tbh i give u cute moments in this pt and then i ruin ur life at the end <3 flood my asks and i'll update soon HAHAH ,, mwwaaaa

warnings: oc flirts with jk a lot ,, smut (sort of) ,, oc slaps jk ,, big fight lol

//

for obvious reasons, that car ride changed everything. 

it’s like a switch flips in your mind, a new experiment, a new challenge. you’re determined to push him. test him. see how far you can go without him snapping.

so, the week begins and you take notes. like a scientist, you’re methodical. 

careful.

but your methods are anything but innocent. 

you're testing him with everything you can think of: words, touches, close proximity—anything to see how he reacts. 

and fuck, does he react.

when monday rolls around, you start subtle. 

you’re sending him texts, clingy and cute, with just the right amount of affection to make his insides churn. you’re expecting a response, something—anything. but when the texts go unanswered for hours, your smile falters for just a second. 

his replies come in cold, sparse, detached.

nerd [12:13PM]: u’re trying too hard  nerd [12:18PM]: stfu for the rest of the day, yea?

on tuesday night, you attempt to perfect the art of being close without overdoing it. 

it’s a delicate balance—teasing the line between friendly and intimate, but you feel confident… partly because the circumstances are on your side. mentally, you thank jimin for inviting you over to join their movie night. 

as you sit next to him on the couch, your body just a little too close, brushing against him ever so slightly. your shoulder presses against his, the fabric of your shirt grazing his skin. 

it’s subtle, but it’s enough to make him feel the weight of your presence beside him. you watch him out of the corner of your eye, waiting for any sign, any reaction. his eyes stay glued to the screen, but you catch the subtle tension in his shoulders. 

you can feel it in the way his muscles tighten, like he’s aware but is trying to pretend otherwise.

you don’t pull away. 

instead, you lean in further, your body pressing against his just a little bit more. you can feel the heat radiating from him, and it makes your heart race. you let your head gently rest on his shoulder, letting the weight of it fall naturally.

for a moment, his body is still, like he’s frozen in place. his breathing stays steady, controlled, but you can tell he’s aware. his jaw tightens ever so slightly, and you notice the way his fingers twitch, like they’re itching to push you away, but he doesn’t. his hand, though relaxed, sits just inches from yours, and you can almost feel the friction between the two of you, an invisible force keeping you both in place.

"are you serious?" he glares at you.

you take note that his voice is flat but tinged with something else—like he’s trying to convince himself this is all just a joke.

you smile, pretending to play innocent. 

“what?”

“___…” he warns. “… fuck. whatever.”

“yeah?” you tease. “whatever? jungkook, i’m just sitting here, enjoying the movie," you say, tone light, as if there’s nothing unusual about the way your body is pressed so close to his.

he shifts uncomfortably, but you can tell it’s not a total rejection. 

his arm, once resting by his side, is now slightly tense, fingers flexing just a bit. 

“you’re really pushing it today," he adds, his voice gruff, but there’s no real bite behind it—just a hint of reluctant amusement. “the guys will notice.”

you don’t move.

you just stay there, head still resting against his shoulder, feeling the way his body stays taut beneath you. 

“let them.”

his jaw tightens again, but he doesn’t push you away. 

instead, his arm stiffens where it rests against the back of the couch, like he’s holding himself back. 

“you comfortable?”

“mhm,” you answer half-heartedly. 

“with me?" he says, raising an eyebrow as he looks at you sideways. "keep lying to yourself. you should quit this shit soon.”

you smile knowingly.

his words are harsher than he means them to be, but his body says otherwise. he’s not pulling away, not really. his chest rises and falls with a quiet exhale, and you can feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

“if it’s so shit, then you move." you murmur, pressing just a little closer.

he shakes his head, his hand twitching again like he’s about to do something, but he doesn’t. 

instead, he leans his head back against the couch and tries to focus on the movie. you can tell he’s trying to hide the way his breath catches whenever you get too close, but you notice it all the same.

the silence settles, but it's different now. 

you’re closer, and you can feel the way the tension thickens. he doesn’t push you away, and he doesn’t pull closer, but his body is no longer stiff. 

there’s a slight shift—a crack in the armor, just enough for you to know you’re making progress.

when wednesday arrives, the tension between you and jungkook shifts. you can feel it in the air—a subtle change, like a shift in the current. you’ve pushed him just enough that now, you know he’s starting to feel something. 

maybe it’s curiosity, maybe irritation, but whatever it is, it’s there. 

and that’s when you go for it.

you’ve intruded his home for the 2nd time this week (thank you yoongi for the emergency key). you’re standing behind him as he fiddles with something at the counter. you glance at him, making sure the space between you is just close enough that you can brush up against him without making it too obvious. 

you take your time as you lean across the counter to grab a mug. 

the movement is slow and deliberate. you make sure your boobs brush against his arm as you do. he’s taller than you so no matter what; it’s inevitable. 

he’ll see what you intend for him to see.

it’s casual like you’re just going about your business… but you watch him carefully, studying his reaction. his body stiffens for the briefest second. his eyes flicker, narrowing, before he quickly schools his features again, turning away slightly. 

but you see it—you feel the way his jaw tightens, the way his shoulders shift. 

it’s all there, even though he tries to play it cool.

you don’t move away. 

instead, you linger just a little longer, standing closer than you need to, your body just a bit too close to his. you watch as his eyes flicker, the smallest hint of frustration in his gaze, before it softens into something you can’t quite place. 

maybe it’s confusion. maybe it’s something more.

“you look handsome today,” you say, the words slipping out with that playful, almost too-casual tone. though your voice is light, there’s a little challenge in it. you know how it sounds, and you know it’s enough to get under his skin.

for a moment, there’s a beat of silence. 

he doesn’t flinch. 

doesn’t even look at you directly. 

… but you can feel the weight of his gaze on you, and when you glance at him, you see his lips pressed together tightly. his face is impassive, but you know better. he’s holding back, trying to keep it together.

“cut it out,” he utters under his breath. 

it’s not the sharp command you expect, though. it’s more like a warning. like, he’s not sure what to do with the way you’re pushing him. his gaze flickers down to your lips for a fraction of a second before he quickly looks away.

you grin, knowing you’ve struck a nerve. 

then, you pull back just slightly, but you don’t move too far. you keep your body close, letting the space between you linger with tension. slowly, your eyes flicker to his, catching the way his gaze darts between your eyes and lips, and the flicker of hesitation in his expression.

you know it’s working. 

the coldness is a mask, a shield, but it’s starting to crack. the way his body tightens ever so slightly, the way his breath hitches for a fraction of a second, it’s all the proof you need. he’s trying to pretend he’s not affected, but you can see through it.

innocently, you tilt your head, studying him. 

"what’s wrong, jungkook?" you ask, your tone dripping with false sweetness. "did i make you uncomfortable? or just horny?”

he looks at you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing again, but you see the shift in him. 

he’s not as cold as he wants to be. 

there’s something softer in the way he looks at you now, the way his shoulders relax just a little. but the silence stretches between you, and you can feel the unspoken words beginning to weigh in.

jungkook stays quiet but the tension is undeniable, and you know—you know—he’s not as unaffected as he wants to be.

on thursday, you decide to be a menace.

the timing has to be perfect, so you wait outside jungkook’s lecture hall, pretending to be on your phone. 

when the doors open, students file out in waves, and there he is—black hoodie, backpack slung over one shoulder, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. he’s walking with a few of his classmates, casually chatting. you wait until he’s just a few feet away before stepping into his path.

the bump is perfectly orchestrated. 

your shoulder brushes his, and your notebook, pens, and phone all tumble to the ground with an exaggerated clatter.

“oh no…” you sigh dramatically, crouching down immediately to gather your scattered belongings. jungkook stops, his classmates following suit, their conversation halting as they glance at you and then down at your outfit—a fitted crop top and a tiny skirt that rides up a little too much when you kneel.

you hear a low whistle from one of the guys behind jungkook.

“damn,” someone murmurs, and that’s all it takes for him to snap. 

his jaw tightens as he bends down next to you, shoving your phone and notebook into a messy pile before grabbing your forearm, and making you stand.

“seriously?” he mutters, glancing behind him at his classmates, who are still ogling. “you couldn’t wait to drop all this somewhere without an audience?”

you blink innocently, brushing off your skirt as you stand. 

“it was an accident,” you pout at him. “but thanks for helping.”

his glare softens, but only slightly. he bends down again, this time crouching low and deliberately blocking the view of his classmates as he picks up your things.

“wanna introduce me to your nerd friends—“

when he straightens up, he thrusts the pile into your hands, but before you can even say anything, he asks, “where are you going?”

you hesitate, taken aback by the question. “uh, the other side of campus...”

jungkook doesn’t miss a beat. 

“i’ll walk you.”

“really?” you say, surprised, but already grinning. he looks like he regrets offering the second the words leave his mouth, but he doesn’t take it back. “you don’t have to. did you have a meeting or something with your marine conservation club?” 

he tilts his head at you. 

“what? i’m not mr. save the dolphins today? your tiny brain actually remembers my club name?”

you shrug.

“i’m not that dumb.”

“so you say,” he grumbles. “but yeah. i do have a meeting. i’ll just attend it late.”

gasping, you let out a last-minute squeal. “mr. perfect attendance is tarnishing his rep for me?”

“it’s fine,” he says flatly, glancing back at his friends and muttering something about catching up with them later. before you can tease any further, he’s taking your notebook and phone from your hands, tucking them under his arm as if it’s his duty now.

as the two of you walk, you chatter away, filling the silence. 

normally, he’d roll his eyes or tell you to be quiet, but today, he listens. 

he nods occasionally, even hums in acknowledgment, though his eyes are straight ahead, his expression carefully neutral. you can’t help but notice, though, the way his hand finds its way to your waist—lightly at first, almost hesitant, but then it lingers, his fingers splayed across your side as though keeping you close.

and then, as if his subconscious takes over, his hand slips lower, brushing against the curve of your ass. your steps falter for a moment, and you turn to look at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

“jungkook?” you say, arching a brow. “y-your hand…”

he blinks, glances down, and quickly pulls his hand back, shoving it into the pocket of his hoodie as it burns him. 

“shut up,” he hushes you, his ears turning red. "you wanna act like an ass? at least give me some."

you laugh, loud and unapologetic, and he glares at you, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

but you notice the way his shoulders are less tense now, the faint hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. he doesn’t say anything as he walks you the rest of the way, carrying your things like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

on friday, you leave him alone.

no texts, no calls, and no showing up.

by 2pm; jeon jungkook realizes he misses you.

so, jungkook caves.

nerd [3:02PM]: wya? nerd [3:04PM]: come over :/ yn [3:08PM]: hiii yn [3:08PM]: what for ? nerd [3:09PM]: sent image attachment nerd [3:09PM]: figure it out ?

you don’t see jungkook until saturday night.

… which, isn’t too bad considering it would’ve just been like… a day and half since he last saw you—but it was bad. 

jungkook ran through all the possibilities in his head. 

could he be sick?

could he be undergoing some sort of unconscious stress that’s leading him to feel this way about you? 

or… was it finally time for him to accept the truth?

when the doorbell rings, jungkook wants to answer it. 

but he stops himself.

he isn’t easy. 

he doesn’t want to be. 

instead, he lets one of the guys answer it. 

as you walk into the room, you’re greeted with the view of the guys are lounging around, a few beers and snacks spread across the coffee table. jungkook is in his usual spot, slouched in the corner of the couch, his hood up, legs stretched out like he owns the place.

he looks up when you enter, his dark eyes flicking to yours for just a second before darting away, as if the sight of you doesn’t make his heart trip over itself. you catch the subtle change in his posture—he straightens ever so slightly, his legs pulling in just a bit, his shoulders losing their slump.

“hi,” you call out, your voice light and warm as you shrug off your coat.

he nods at you, keeping his face neutral. 

“hey,” he replies, the word coming out gruff, almost dismissive, but you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers as you move to take a seat. 

you plop down on the couch next to him, close enough that your thigh brushes his. he stiffens at the contact, his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, but he doesn’t shift away.

“mad at me?” you tease, tilting your head to look at him, your lips quirking into a grin.

he looks at you funny. 

“why would i be?”

you shrug.

“you aren’t greeting me like the way i want you to.”

he leans forward. “how do you want me to greet you?”

you pause, pretending to take a moment to think. then, you take his hand and gently place it on your upper inner thigh. his eyes widen and you stroke his hand gently. 

“wanna—”

he scoffs, his expression carefully guarded. jungkook catches your bluff.

“god, you’re annoying.”

yet, the corner of his mouth betrays him, twitching upward just a little.

you giggle and then push his hand off. 

the banter is effortless, the tension between you subtle but electric. 

throughout the evening, you’re all warmth and light, leaning into him when you laugh, your hand brushing his arm or shoulder every chance you get. at first, jungkook attempts to resist. 

his replies are short and his eyes anywhere but on you… but as the hours slip by, you feel him softening, his walls starting to crack just enough for you to sneak through.

then comes the game of mafia.

the group gathers around the coffee table, cards dealt, and jungkook ends up as the supposed villain. the accusations start flying almost immediately.

“you’re way too quiet, man,” taehyung declares, pointing at jungkook with a dramatic flourish. “you’ve got ‘mafia’ written all over you.”

jin chimes in, grinning. “yeah, it’s always the quiet ones. plus, look at him—he’s sweating.”

“i’m not sweating,” jungkook snaps, sitting up straighter, his jaw tightening. “i’m wearing a fucking hoodie and you guys turned up the heat. you're all so fucking bad at this game, you've all been sabotaging me physically!”

the others laugh, piling on more ridiculous accusations. even you can’t help but join in, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips.

“sorry, jungkook,” you say, shrugging with mock innocence. “you do look kind of guilty.”

his eyes snap to yours, and for a moment, something raw flickers there—hurt, maybe, or frustration. his lips part like he’s about to say something, but instead, he pushes back his chair and stands abruptly.

“what the fuck do you know, ___?”

old habits die hard.

“chill,” yoongi warns. “it’s just a game.”

“whatever,” jungkook says, his voice clipped. “this game’s stupid anyway.”

without another word, he turns and storms off, leaving the room in stunned silence. the sound of his bedroom door slamming echoes.

the group exchanges awkward glances before taehyung leans toward you with a teasing smirk. 

“our boyfriend is in a mood… what should we do?”

jin chuckles. “___, you should probably go check on him before he sulks himself into oblivion.”

rolling your eyes, you push yourself up from the couch. 

“he’s so dramatic,” you chime, but there’s a softness to your voice as you head up the stairs and down the hall towards his room. 

a part of you hesitates… partly because of the event that occurred the last time you were here. but, you shrug it off. as you stand before his door, you raise your fist to knock but abruptly, he swings his door open.

“what do you want?”

“how’d you know—”

“you’ve got heavy ass fucking feet.”

you hiss at him. “yah, sore loser energy does not look good on you.”

opening the door wider, you step inside. he huffs and sits on the edge of his bed. with his hood still up, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, he glares at you with a mix of irritation and something else—something softer.

“did they send you up here to check up on me? what did they bribe you with this time?”

“nothing actually,” you answer him truthfully. “i’ve got my own motivations.”

jungkook can’t help but crack half a smile. 

“like what?”

you lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms with a small, knowing smile. “wouldn’t you like to know?”

before he lets himself enjoy this moment, his jaw tightens, and he looks away. his gaze fixes on the floor. 

“why’d you turn on me?” he huffs, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.

you push off the doorframe, stepping closer.

“it’s just a game, jungkook,” you say gently, your voice deliberately soft. “you’re not actually mad, are you?”

his shoulders tense, a flicker of something crossing his face—annoyance, maybe, but there’s something deeper underneath. his hands clench into fists on his thighs, the muscles in his forearms flexing as though he’s trying to ground himself.

“it’s not the game,” he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and raw like it was dragged out of him against his will.

you blink, caught off guard by the weight of his tone. “then what is it?”

his jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t answer. his fingers twitch at his sides, and then he’s dragging a hand through his hair, pushing back his hood. his hair falls messily over his forehead, but he doesn’t fix it. when his eyes finally meet yours, it’s like being hit with a tidal wave—anger, frustration, and something else that makes your breath catch.

“you.”

your heart stutters in your chest, but you keep your composure, tilting your head slightly. “me?”

he exhales sharply, shaking his head like he’s trying to find the right words.

“you play too much.”

his voice is rough but lacking its usual sharpness.

“you get in my head… and then you just—” he cuts himself off, the frustration rolling off him in waves. his leg bounces slightly, and his hands grip his thighs again, knuckles pale from the tension.

“you don’t even care,” he says finally, his voice quieter now, almost like he doesn’t want to admit it. “what the fuck were you doing to me all week? experimenting or some shit? fuck, isn’t your major psychology or something? you’re basically being trained to be a psycho.”

the jab stings, but you ignore it. instead, your chest tightens at his words, the vulnerability he’s trying so hard to bury beneath his irritation. you take a step closer, your knees almost brushing his.

“i do care,” you say softly, reaching out, your fingers brushing against his knuckles.

his gaze drops to where your fingers touch his, and for a moment, he’s completely still, like he doesn’t know what to do. then, slowly, his hand turns over, palm-up, brushing against yours with a hesitance that makes your chest ache.

“then can you stop messing with me?”

there’s something about his tone—about the way he says this. his words are one thing, but the ache of his deliverance is completely something else.

“i wasn’t messing with you,” you whisper, your gaze locked on his.

his lips part slightly, and his breathing is uneven as his eyes search your face, like he’s looking for something—an answer, a hint, anything.

“then what are you doing?”

you lean in, closing the distance just enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. your smile is soft, almost teasing, but there’s a weight behind it.

“making you want me.”

jungkook is good. 

you have no idea how or why, but your underwear and skirt are on the other side of his bedroom floor. 

your legs are spread wide for him, as he licks his fingers and begins to gently drag it inside your folds. he separates them before lowering himself in. he looks at you, not breaking any eye contact as he flicks his tongue against your clit. 

you clench your fist. 

after a few licks and sucks, he lifts his head away. he brings his fingers to your mouth, cueing you to suck on them. 

you do. 

as he places his thick fingers inside, you part your mouth and suck on them. bobbing your head and twisting your tongue around his digits as you suck—jungkook winces at the way you do so. 

“fuck,” he utters. 

as he takes his fingers out, he begins to massage your folds. his pressure is firm yet pleasurable. his fingers trace around your entrance and play with your clit. you feel your toes curling as he breathes near your pussy. 

it pulsates. 

he can’t help it. the view is just too fucking perfect. jungkook massages your folds, spreading them a part before he spits on it. he takes his thumb and rubs in his saliva. massaging it in, slowly and surely—mixing it with your wetness. 

“good kitty,” jungkook praises. “your pretty pussy is swelling up, ___. what’s going on? excited? horny? happy? you’re so wet, baby. so fucking—do you hear it?”

jungkook shoves his fingers inside you, curling and pumping them in and out. you gasp at the sharpness but feel completely immersed in his act. 

.. and yes.

you do hear it.

you hear how wet your fucking pussy is.

“o-oh my god! j-jungkook—”

“yeah, baby?”

your stomach twists. 

“d-don’t—stop. stop calling me—”

“sorry,” he apologizes quickly, shifting his body to tower over you. he caresses your face, his thumb lingering on your bottom lip. then, he kisses your cheek and trails his kisses down to your neck. you moan at his softness. 

he’s so close to you. it’s only now that you realize how addictive he is.. from the way he smells to the way his touches make you feel…

he’s perfect.

in this moment, he is everything to you.

“sorry,” he repeats against your skin. “i’m sorry, kitty.”

you gulp. 

“do you forgive me?” he pouts, resting his forehead against yours. “hmm? forgive me, please.”

“i forgive you,” you breathe. “c-can you—”

just as you reach for him, he shakes his head. 

“can’t kiss you,” jungkook sighs. “won’t know how to get rid of you after.”

you smile. 

“you wanna get rid of me after this?”

jungkook stays quiet. 

you shift. 

“no.”

just as jungkook leans in, your lips inches a part—

the door suddenly creaks open.

a girl—someone you didn’t recognize—steps halfway in, her hand still on the doorknob, her brows lifting in surprise when she sees the two of you.

her eyes darts between your flushed face and jungkook.

“oh, shit! uh—sorry,” she says quickly, taking a step back but still lingering awkwardly in the doorway. “i didn’t know you had a tutoring session before mine... i’ll, um, come back later, then? sorry to interrupt.”

before you can even process her words, she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her. the sound left a hollow sort of silence in its wake like the air had been sucked out of the room.

you blink at the now-closed door, the words tutoring session before mine looping in your head like a broken record. your chest tightens, heat crawls up your neck as you turn back to jungkook. 

his expression is already shifting, panic bleeding into his features.

you shift your body entirely, pushing him off you.

“wait,” he starts, “shit, ___. it’s not like that—”

“okay,” you say flatly. 

you get up from his bed and grab your underwear and skirt. yanking them on, your movements frustrate jungkook. 

he doesn’t know what to do. 

in any and every angle—he’s in the wrong.

“i’m sorry, okay?” he tries again, stepping closer. his voice was softer now, almost pleading. “it wasn’t—i didn’t know she’d just barge in like that. i thought the door was locked—”

you shove past him, your shoulder brushing his as you make your way toward the door. you could feel the pressure building behind your eyes, a sick mix of anger and humiliation clawing at your throat.

“wait—” his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist, but you ripped it free, spinning around to glare at him.

“don’t.”

“___, please—”

“it’s not about whether or not the door was locked—” you choke, “it’s… fuck. tutoring session, really? is that what i am right now? is that what she is—”

“no,” jungkook answers sternly. “holy fuck, please. let’s talk about this—”his jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to let you go, to just let you leave. but then he took a step forward, his voice sharp and cutting—

“___, what did you want from me?”

you freeze, your hand still on the doorknob, your back to him. the words hit you like a slap, knocking the wind out of you.

jungkook takes a chance. 

he steps closer to you. 

“... because, honestly, i don’t think you even know.”

you stay quiet. 

jungkook clears his throat. 

“well, fuck. if you don’t know, then it’s not my fault,” he says, his tone hard now, defensive. “you can't want things from me and then not know how to handle shit, ___. you don’t get to make me another one of your fucking situationships. you wanted me to want you and this—holy shit. this isn't my fault. it’s yours—”

suddenly, your palm connects with his cheek before you even realize it. the sound of the slap reverberates in the room. his head jerked to the side, and for a moment, he just stands there, stunned.

your hand stung, your chest heaving as you stared at him, your vision blurring at the edges.

“i hate you.”

“___, i’m sorry—”

but it’s too late. 

you don’t even bother looking back as you storm out of jungkook’s room, your chest heaving with a mix of anger and humiliation. the tears are already burning at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, determined not to let them fall. your feet carry you down the hall, towards the stairs, your vision blurry with rage.

“wait—” jungkook’s voice echoes behind you, followed by the thud of his footsteps as he chases after you. he hustles, dressing himself as he goes after you.

“fuck off!” you snap, your voice trembling but firm.

he doesn’t listen. 

of course, he doesn’t. 

“holy shit—please! ___, stop. just fucking hear me out—” he pleads, his tone exasperated, like he doesn’t know what else to say.

“stop?” you spin around halfway down the stairs, glaring up at him. “stop what, jungkook? stop assuming? stop feeling humiliated? stop—”

your voice cracks, and you hate how raw it sounds.

“whatever.”

jungkook freezes on the step above you, his lips parted as if he’s going to respond, but nothing comes out.

you don’t wait for him to gather his words. 

you turn back and keep walking, practically jogging down the last few steps and into the living room where everyone else is. their laughter dies down the second they see you—flustered, teary-eyed, and furious—followed immediately by jungkook chasing after you.

“uh, what’s happening?” namjoon asks, his eyebrows raised as he glances between you and jungkook.

“are you two fighting?” jin’s tone is a mix of concern and curiosity, his head tilting as he watches the scene unfold.

"fuck," jungkook groans. "no shit, hyung."

“guys, let’s all chill,” taehyung interjects, raising his hands like a referee. “we’re all friends here—”

“he’s no friend.” you cut him off, your voice sharp and laced with emotion. you’re trembling now, fighting the tears that threaten to spill over. 

the room goes silent.

even taehyung, who was halfway through a casual shrug, stops mid-gesture. everyone’s eyes dart to jungkook, whose expression shifts from startled to pained in a split second.

“what am i to you, then?” jungkook asks, his voice low but audible enough in the tense quiet. he takes a step toward you, his hand reaching out before falling limply to his side. 

you don’t answer. 

you just shake your head, the tears finally breaking free as you turn on your heel and head for the door. the air feels suffocating, and you need to get out of there before your emotions betray you any further.

“wait—” jungkook’s voice cracks, and for a moment, it sounds like he’s desperate. he jogs after you again, his hand catching your wrist just as you’re about to reach the front door.

“why the fuck are you so pissed about this?” jungkook cries. “holy shit, you’re infuriating. you know that?”

“are you done?” you ask him coldly. 

a beat. 

“do you want me to be?”

[bluebellhairpin]

Cregan Stark X Wife!Reader

Summary: Preparation to leave to Castle Black for the winter months is well under way, and you're reluctant to be left alone in Winterfell. Cregan, having had the same worry, provides what could be a solution. A solution with a name. And fur. (wc. 2.3k>)

Warnings: Reader has she/her pronouns + fem bodied. Pregnancy. Assassination attempt. Unnamed character death. Blood + gore. Cregan wants to be a girl dad. Unedited (lol).

Listening to: 'Wolf at Your Door' by Chole x Halle - "When you're laying in your bed at night, when the air's just a little too quiet, better hope that you're saying your prayers."

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi || AO3 link

Winterfell was a somber place when the cold rolled down from the north. 

Although only ten men were sent to the wall every winter, everyone left behind knew someone who was sent away. No matter how short of a life you lived, you also always knew someone who died there. Indeed, life on the wall was as harsh as the force it existence kept at bay. 

For you though, the man you lost always returned. The last three winters had you spend upwards of three months without your husband - and in turn rising to take his place as custodian of Winterfell. No matter how busy the role kept you, it never helped you miss Cregan Stark any less. 

With winter approaching once more, each moment with him seemed to not be enough. Yes, the Wall was dangerous, and even Cregan was never guaranteed to return, but this year there was something else that willed you to want him to stay. Something else that made him want to stay too. 

“Each day my resolve seems to crack,” he told you one night, fire cracked in its hearth as you both lay under blankets of fur. His hand rested protectively over your belly. “Already now I can see our babe grow, and I know I’ll not only be missing you but her too.”

“‘Her’?” you hummed, head turning to nose his cheek. “Such a confident tone, my lord.” 

“I am confident.” he replied, turning to press a soft kiss to your lips as his hand idlily rubbed along your stomach. 

“And if you needed an heir at the end of this cold winter, what then?” 

“If my lady wife deems me worthy, we might try for one again.” he said, sedating what could’ve been the start of your mood change with words almost too sweet to be coming from the frosty king in the north. “But that is something we can decide once all three of us are safe together when summer rises.” 

Cregan’s soft words and warm breath on your cheeks made your mind wandered to a time not so far away where you wouldn’t have his heat so close. A time when his comfort was going to be gone. 

“I’m going to miss you.” you said, turning into his hold more, and he let you snuggle into his chest. “This time will feel longer than all the others.”

“I doubt that will be the case for you.” he said, lips moving from their place pressed into your hair. “Winterfell will keep you busy, between that and resting for the babe’s sake, you won’t have time on your hands for much else.” 

“I may not want to rest.”

“You will. The Lord of Winterfell commands it.” 

“The Lord of Winterfell won’t be here, he cannot have a for sure say in what I do or do not do.” You felt him smile into your hair, and you pulled away with a twitch of your own mouth. “What?”

He pulled away a little too, shyly smiling down at where you still laid. He was acting far too coy to be considered normal. 

“I might not be leaving you completely alone.” 

“... Cregan.” you started, sitting up on our elbow. 

“I was going to show you on the morrow, but since you’ve forced my hand -”

“-I? Forcing your hand?”

“- Since you forced my hand,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he slipped out from the bedcovers, “I will be right back.”

“What…” You tried, but your voice tempered out as he swiftly made his way from your bedchambers. 

Sighing, you sat back in your pillows, arms folded, and refraining from pouting. It wasn’t long into your settled position of guessing what in the seven kingdoms your husband was doing before he was back. 

Cregan had clearly gone outside, snow settled on the top of his hair and along the shoulders of the fur cloak he snatched before leaving. In his arms was something squirming. You frowned, eyeing the movement under the cloak as he strode over. 

“What is that?” you asked. 

“A protector for the Lady of Winterfell, as per the orders of her lord husband.” Cregan said, and let the squirming mass break free from his hold onto the bed. 

It was a… pup? No not possible, it was too big. From how it acted it was a few months surely, but it was just so big. Then you thought some more. Could it really be? 

“A direwolf?” 

“Not any direwolf. Yours.” Cregan said, rounding the bed and settling back at your side. “A protector to be at your side when I cannot. I’ve been training him and he follows commands well already. By the time I leave he should be grown to the size of any regular dog - then at least twice that when I return.” 

While he spoke, the pup sniffed around your bed covers, curiously wandering on unsteady feet. You had to admit, he looked gorgeous, all black fur, with green eyes, and you didn’t doubt he would grow to be a fierce thing. But sometimes that wasn’t always good. 

“Cregan, are you sure about this?” you asked. “It’s… he’s a direwolf, not a dog.” 

“I’m sure,” he said, lending his arm out. The pup stepped closer, licking Cregan’s fingers and settling on its belly with its nose on Cregan’s knee. “They’re our house symbol. The direwolf are as Stark as I am, they know who we are, and they can be as loyal as they are fierce. That’s why I wanted to introduce you before I left. He’s going to be yours, loyal to you.” 

His arm wrapped around your shoulder, and like second nature you made yourself comfortable by his side. The pup shifted too, now his nose was itching closer to you, wanting to know who this new person was. 

“I supposed you ought to tell me what I'm going to be calling him then.”

“You can call him anything you like,” Cregan said, “But I’ve been calling him Striker.”

Five months passed, and Cregan was right. You were never without anything to do. 

The babe growing inside you made mornings rough, and you often weren’t seen before noon, especially in the earlier months. The rest of your day was spent catching up on what you’d missed while resting, and then catching up on what you missed while catching up. Then the evenings were spent with Striker. 

He had grown on you, just as he had grown physically. Cregan was still able to lift the wolf when he left, but now you doubted it. He was already well on his way to rivalling a regular wolf in size. Despite how intimidating that might’ve been, you couldn’t be more fond of Striker even if you tried. 

Your belly swelled, and with it so did the direwolf’s protectiveness. Your handmaids were tolerated, your guards struggled to be in the same room, and when the maesters dared tough you Striker had to be sent out of the room. Walks around Winterfell were soon out of the question, at least if you were to bring the direwolf along, since he took to growling at everyone who stood too close. 

Cregan really picked well, Striker surely was serving his purpose, and soon he earned his namesake. 

Word came from Castle Black that Cregan was going to return, that the Winter had been fended off once more. That brought joy foremost to you, but really all in Winterfell knew what that meant, even if Westeros didn’t. It was cause for celebration when they returned. 

It also gave a false sense of security. Winter was gone, and so was the evil - but evil didn’t just come from the north. It could come from anywhere. 

You’d settled into bed for the night, Striker laid beside you, head facing towards the door, and your hand rested on his flank as you looked over one last paper. He growled, and you petted his fur, silently reassuring him that it was just a guard passing outside - but then his head lifted, and turned toward your window. His sudden, still alertness put you on edge. 

He’d been hostile before, but this was aggressive. 

Candle flames flickered, Striker’s fur stood on end beneath your palm, the latch on your window clicked open, creaked open, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. A cloaked figure slipped into your room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to cry for help - nor to remember anything Cregan had taught you. But you didn’t have to.

The figure, a man, unsheathed a knife, and with the glint of steel in the candlelight Striker struck. He surged off the bed with a vicious bark and bit into the man’s arm, snarling all the while and all but went to tearing the man to shreds. 

The commotion had people coming in through the door, and the sight had you still rendered motionless and speechless. 

The man’s cloak was torn away, and by now he was pinned to the floor, blood pooling on the stone as he fruitlessly tried to get Striker off him. You barely registered your guard, Gunther, asking you what was happening.

“He came in the window. He had a knife.” was all you could say. You could guess he was saying things to calm you down as he pried your fingers off your bedsheets that covered your swollen belly - he was probably trying to get you out of the room so you didn’t see the mess. It was too late for that. The man was a whimpering, bloodied mess on the floor by now, and no one had yet been brave enough to pry Striker’s jaw off his shoulder. 

Gunther had an arm around you with your hand in his, guiding you away. Others attempted to move closer, either to help the man or take him away - but Striker was still growling. 

“Striker, here.” you called, just finding your voice enough for it to carry over the commotion. The direwolf looked up, and seeing you being led away, he relented, fitting into your side with ease. 

The three of you walked away. Now you were away from the scene you could think again and guess you were going down the hall to another room, one you decided you’d stay in until Cregan returned. 

You looked down at Striker, threading your fingers though the fur at his neck. 

“Good boy.” you said, stroking between his ears. 

“He sure is, my lady.” Gunther said, “Who knows what could’ve happened if he didn’t act so fast.” 

You smiled a little at that, at how right Cregan was in leaving the direwolf for you. He was meant to be company, a protector second - but tonight he proved to be as good, as loyal as any of your guards. He proved to be the real sigil of House Stark - just as Cregan told you he was. 

You reached the door of your new room, and as your hand lifted off Striker’s back you noticed it chill with the cold night air. Turning your palm over, you saw red - and Striker’s nose made home in your fingers, licking away every drop as if it wasn’t ever there to begin with.

A week later, Cregan returned. 

You had been in a foul mood for the past three days, since the maester had put you on strict bed rest because of the babe. Therefore you had been deemed unfit to greet your husband at the gate as he finally came home. In your defense, it definitely seemed like a good reason to be sour. 

So you waited, sat on a chaise, with Striker’s head in your lap pressed to your stomach. 

You could hear a commotion outsider, which only made your face scrunch in annoyance - not just at missing out but also at the pity looked you knew your handmaiden would be giving you. She offered to go fetch Cregan, and you nodded her leave with a wave of your hand. 

“He will be here soon.” you said, cradling Striker’s muzzle in your palms. 

“Indeed he will.” Cregan said. 

“Oh, Lord Stark!” your handmaid said, startled. Your head turned, and you saw him standing in the doorway. 

“Cregan!” you said, grin covering your face - and even after such a long time away, Striker seemed to recognize him, for he didn’t growl, and his tail started thumping against the rug. 

“My love,” he said, shedding his great sword carelessly, and sunk to the floor beside where you sat. You heard your handmaid mumble a goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind you. “Are you alright?” 

“I couldn’t be better now.” you replied, feeling tears welling in your eyes as you took in your husband's face for the first time in months. He looked tired, older, but as you took his face in your hands his cheeks felt exactly the same as they were when he left. “I missed you so much.” 

“I heard about what happened the other night. I -” he said, mouth hanging open in what could’ve been shock, in his eyes there could’ve been anger. Vengeance would do nothing now, the man was dead, he bled out before anyone could decide to give him mercy - undeserved or otherwise. But as Cregan leant forward to hold you into his arms, his warmth felt like nothing else except fear. “I can’t believe I could’ve lost you.” 

“You didn’t.” you said, taking an arm away from being wrapped around his shoulders to pull his face away from your chest. “You provided the means for me to stay safe long before you left. Striker was better than any guard. He was fearless when I was frozen. I owe him my life, all because of you.” 

Cregan’s face turned soft, and he smiled at you. He leant forward and kissed you. For the first time in too long, his lips move against yours. You felt his jaw move beneath your palm as his fingers grazed your neck and held onto your hip. When he pulled away, he kept your head cradled close to his. 

“I love you.” he said. 

“I love you too.” you replied, and he smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips, then your cheek. 

“Now tell me all about how my little girl is growing.”

[delusionalwh6re]

hellooo can i request a smut fic of hyun ju??? its like a brat tamer one AHHHHH i can't describe ittttt thankssss

i gotchu!! this is my first time ever writing for a trans character so i was a bit nervous ngl… i didn’t wanna do anything offensive. i’m not fully educated so i kept it simple but still steamy 😭 i hope you enjoy ml <3

࿐࿔ ⋆ ｡˚ good for ya’

࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ cho hyun-ju x fem!reader

warnings: brat taming, fingering, hair pulling, face sitting, mommy kink (it’s literally only said twice lol), edging, dirty talk, bathroom sex, cursing, orgasm denial and cursing

summary: your girlfriend has had enough of that bratty ass attitude of yours… so she gets you together

authore’s note: the gayness came out of me writing this 😭 i love this baddie sm, hyun ju supremacy!

Hyun-ju watched you from afar. The way your face held no expression, your eyes boring into others as if you dared them to say the wrong thing to you, your hips swaying with confidence as you walked around like you were the head bitch in charge. Like you fucking owned the place.

It pissed Hyun-ju off. You had all the time in the word to have this little attitude of yours but not enough to be a grown ass woman and speak about your guy’s problems.

When she found out you were in the games, she immediately began to worry for you. You weren’t the type to… listen. You didn’t believe in rules, you made your own. So you wouldn’t survive in a place like this.

But you on the other hand, the second you saw her it seemed like some sort of competition forming between you two.

With the way you were acting towards her, it would be hard to believe that the two of you were.. together.

And as long as you kept it up, she was gonna show you.

So that’s exactly what she did.

“Oh, oh! Hyun-ju! just wait-” your squeals bounced off the stall walls in attempts to get your girlfriend to slow down her almost painful fingering.

“No! What did I tell you huh?” her fingers showed no remorse as she curled them inside of you.

“Uhh” you threw your head back, your pussy clenching around her thick digits.

“You don’t know how to listen, so I’m gonna teach you” she whispered in your ear pulling her fingers out of you slowly.

You whimpered at the lost of contact and immediately reached out for her to get it back. You needed it. Needed anything to get some relief. You needed her.

She chuckled at you. Your usual hard headed and cocky act flowing right down the drain. You looked pathetic. Slick dropped from your puffy pussy, your tits perked up needing attention, hair was a mess… in all reality you were just a mess.

“Why don’t you ever behave?” her hand went to give your hair a soothing caress while her words swirled through your mind repeatedly.

“Ju” the nickname you always called her flew out your swollen lips in a whisper “need you, please?” your head tilt would’ve usually got the best of her but not this time.

You needed to be taught a lesson.

The only thing that was now heard in the bathroom was heavy breathing and the muffled background of players interacting.

Your back slammed against the cold stilled stall as Hyun-ju pulled onto your hair and pressed you against it. A fight of dominance now between the two of you with your lips. Teeth clashing and tongues gliding over each others — it was so hot.

“You’re gonna pay” she pulled away slightly for some air, not letting up on you at all before slamming your her lips back against yours.

Now it was your turn to gain control. With what little strength you had left, you held onto your girlfriend to turn the both of your around — her back now pressed against the stall.

You started feeling up on her with your dainty hands, your fingers brushing over her body. The two of you completely naked in front of one another.

“Teach me then” your voice laced with seduction as you rubbed at the sides of her hips — leaning closer to press your lips against her ear “mommy”

The feeling of your lips along with the heat of your words made her skin crawl. Immediate goosebumps and arousal taking over her body. She couldn’t wait anymore — she needed to taste you and she needed it now.

Hyun-ju looked at you up and down, licking her lips with anticipation that only made you wetter for her. Whether she realized it or not.

Her body walking towards yours. The feeling of your chests now being pressed together as the two of you connected lips once again. Her strong but gentle hands squeezing a handful of your ass.

She twirled you guys around so now you were the one with your back facing the stall. You were ready to take control but Hyun-ju caught you off guard when she spoke up

“Sit on my face”

“Ju — I don’t know if that’s possible”

You squealed when she grabbed your hips to pull you closer towards her now sitting body “I wasn’t asking”

She looked so beautiful underneath you. Her short hair in a low ponytail with her signature bangs sticking to her forehead — lips swollen as she stared up at you as she was amazed, which she was.

You just wanted to devour her.

“Not this time sweetheart, you’ve been a bad girl” her words caught you out of your trance as she rubbed the outside of your thighs

A huff leaving your mouth in annoyance — was she in your head?

“I don’t ca—”. you started to say before a harsh slap was landed onto your ass

You winced in pain before looking down at your very non sympathetic girlfriend — instantly regretting your actions at her next move

“This is your problem! You don’t listen” she yanked you upwards to hover your bare pussy above her face

This position being awkward in the small bathroom. Your arms having to hold your self up against the stall walls and your legs have to crouch down on the edge of the toilet seat — yuck.

But all your discomfort left as soon as Hyun-ju placed her lips against your throbbing clit

“Oh!” you cried out in ecstasy as she began sucking on you like a pacifier

That feeling not lasting for long before she began teasing your hole with the tips of her fingers. Plunging them inside you with a force that sent you jolting up.

“Stop moving” her voice muffled against your wet heat

“So —so good” you grinned against her face as you threw your head back. Her tongue lapping up your slit with ease. Wet smacking filling the bathroom every time she made contact with your pussy.

“Mhmm” she hummed against you slapping your ass before squeezing the flesh firmly — keeping you from trying to move away from her — as if you wanted to, not when she ate you good every single time.

“You gonna apologize?” her mouth came off of you with a low ‘pwah’ while she curled her fingers inside of you

“N-no” you stuttered with determination

“No? Did you just tell me no?” she scoffed angrily picking up her face as your jaw dropped. Your slick glistening down her hand as she practically pounded your with her fingers.

“I-I’m cumminggg, mommy please” you pleaded as you rode her fingers with your eyes closed. Going up and down on them with speed, ready to chase your orgasm— the knot in your stomach getting stronger as the outside world closed out of your head.

“Yeah?” her voice laced with sarcasm and you could heard the smirk in her voice.

You were so close, at the very edge. Until it was ripped away from you. Your eyes shot open as with disappointment as you looked at your girlfriend with sad eyes.

“Ju, no, don’t do this to me, please I’m sorry. I’ll be a good girl for you. Only you.” you weren’t one to beg but Hyun-ju had you doing things no one else could

You were so in love with her, even though you had a shitty way of showing it.

“Next time don’t be such a brat and then you could get what you want” she looked up at you with a shit eating grin — she knew she won. Like she often did.

Hyun-ju was the only person who could put you in your place.

Your eyes filled with tears “I love you baby, I’ll be good just for you, please just make me cum”

You got off from above her and got on your knees pleading in front of her. You didn’t even care if anyone heard you anymore. You just wanted the love of your life to please you.

“Only good girls get to cum” she whispered in your ear as she stood up to put her clothes back on

And after that, you were working to be on you best behavior just to get her to fully please you again.

I NEVER WROTE ANYTHING LIKE THIS BEFORE?? i rlly hope this came out good and don’t sound stupid 😭

[staryuee]

are you able to make some head canons of scaramouche, kazuha, xiao, (BASICALLY ANEMO BOYS), neuvi, kinich on how they react to reader being nonchalant like lwk i think itd be funny

NONCHALANT S/O

꒰warnings꒱ N/A

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . xiao, kazuha, scaramouche, neuvillette, kinich

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . happy new year ♡ still on hiatus but i didn’t want to leave you guys completely high and dry d(^_^o) + also kinich is most definitely out of character just bc i refuse to play the new update so i know nothing about him

XIAO

ʚ it doesn’t bother him, if anything he likes the fact you’re able to brush things off easily (makes it easier for him to stop crouching on nearby trees to assure you’re safe, but lord do you sometimes hurt his ego)

ʚ xiao isn’t confident in romantic gestures, even something as small as a compliment or pinky holding has him wanting to disappear and recover…so when you so easily act indifferent to it while he’s practically drunk on flush straight up makes him die a little

ʚ aside from the slight jabs to his pride, you aren’t uncaring and dumb enough to let his love go unnoticed (thankfully) so he can fully appreciate that you protect your peace

ʚ haunted by memories of war, death and the stench of metal, it’s nice to find some solace in the cool air you exude

ʚ from the outer perspective, two people who have nonchalant energy wouldn’t seem to work too well (but lord do people drool when you two are duoed for a fight), but you and xiao just click!

ʚ he’s quiet, protective but sweet and ready to take the first step to love you, while you’re chilled, confident and allow him to take comfort in someone who’s stable (and sometimes snarky lol)

KAZUHA

ʚ he takes your nonchalant energy as you being ditzy or levelheaded if anything - in other words - it’s really endearing!

ʚ you sort of match his personality to the T, except he’s just the slightest bit more reciprocal with other people’s energy meanwhile you just stand back with your hands either tucked in your pockets or fiddling with the edge of his scarf

ʚ he actually kinda just enjoys teasing you if anything to see if anything can make you crack, most attempts end in failure but it is a rather cute bonding exercise to whoosh you with anemo energy out of the blue to then help you reorganise your hair and straighten your clothes

ʚ he does worry for you on the occasion when you seem to show a lack of interest in him, he’s a pure romantic at heart! he thrives off the attention from his beloved partner! but once in a while you do show him just how much you love him

ʚ did he immediately brighten when you once placed your head on his lap really quietly when he was humming a melody to you? yes, and he has no shame about that

SCARAMOUCHE

ʚ oh you PISS him off

ʚ if ignorance and arrogance were ever personified it would be you and him respectfully

ʚ obviously you both love each other on deeper levels than just: “even though i’m above you i’ll still let you hold my hand, — “okay.” - but your relationship is just…humorous at best from an outsider’s view

ʚ the akademiya’s student body is currently conflicted between the idea that your relationship is either ideal or highly toxic

ʚ on one hand, it’s really adorable to see the mysterious, snarky student of vahumana that rarely ever comes to class be so oddly…chatty in your presence, as you so lovingly listened to every word (if the people close enough to actually hear can be bothered to ignore the fact he’s badmouthing the entire school while you shrugged at every word)

ʚ aside from the yapper x listener duo, he’d also…a little more physically affectionate? he rests his head on your lap quite frequently because you say nothing and therefore don’t bother teasing him

ʚ that’s also the main thing he hates: how nonchalant you are about everything makes his indifference seem futile and oddly more vulnerable. you don’t care about anything, and it’s incredibly infuriating! the first time he said “i love you” you replied with “huh?” and that was the first time he’s ever felt so scornful

ʚ he loves you most days, so he will deal with your frustrating silence - it’s nice to see him become the person he wanted to be with someone who rarely intervenes

NEUVILLETTE

ʚ he’s worried, intrigued and a little jealous all at once.

ʚ worried because he fears that your indifference is a direct consequence of his own inadequacy. are you perhaps not satisfied?? do you not like it when he cups the side of your face when he kisses you? or do you hate the purring noises he makes when you curl your hands in his hair? …it’s raining in fontaine again

ʚ he’s intrigued mostly because you don’t seem to care or even be fazed by the fact you’re not only dating a dragon - but a primordial, godly being that precedes the creation of the modern teyvat. he didn’t think the information would be useful to you in the first place, but when you asked so nicely about the two blue steaks in his hair, he felt obliged to tell you - and yet you replied with “oh, cool.”

ʚ a little jealous just because this attitude is rather perfect in court. you can’t show bias and any emotion whether for defence or prosecution can skew your perspective on a trial - it’s difficult. he’s grown to love the little beings that run around fontaine carelessly, passing judgement has become something so much more colourful than black and white. but with you? it’s like you either have no opinion, or just to not engage - slightly admirable, if a little scary

ʚ at the end of the day, it doesn’t worry him too badly. nonchalance doesn’t necessarily mean emotionally unavailable - and believe me he spends enough time next to you to love the little quirks and habits you do when no one is looking at that façade of yours

KINICH

ʚ you 🤝 kinich - two peas in a pod

ʚ you don’t give a shit about anything? neither does he! do you wanna kiss?

ʚ ajaw lowkey hates you both (said with affection) and does NOT hesitate to let his opinion be known, though kinich is of course quick to shut him down

ʚ he kind of enjoys peering his head at you during conversations to see what you’re like - if your face scrunches when people say something weird, if your brows pitifully furrow at the mention of loss, or even if you smile at laughter — and he sees quite literally nothing, which was honestly like looking in a mirror

ʚ no one actually knows how two people with nearly the exact same level of charisma (none) got together, but you two are happy with each other, so really - who else needs to comprehend your relationship?

ʚ you have a really similar approach to life: do what you must to get what you want. but to him that means dangerous commissions that no one would probably want, and to you that means lounge around graffitiing a wall with some symbols you thought of on the spot

ʚ it’s genuinely infuriating to have a conversation with either of you though when the person speaking isn’t looking for particular help (or is speaking too slowly for either of your likings), you either brush the person off and walk away, or kinich talks back rather abruptly

ʚ mualani made it a non negotiable rule to have someone, hopefully the traveler, around either one of you like some sort of support dog to ensure you guys actually socialise and don’t sit there like owls waiting to bite

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[mxnhoo]

taste (y. jw)

✎ yang jungwon x reader synopsis you and Jungwon were drinking together, until you impulsively recommended to play spicy drinking games. he eventually agreed with your idea, and from there on you could discover something that he's been hiding from you and you decide to make it come true. genre drinking together, reader has supposedly bad drinking tolerance but actually lasted the entire way, drinking game, jungwon respects boundaries (as he should) but reader likes to push it, jungwon is shy when getting onto the spicy topics unlike reader who's bold, Hershey's chocolate syrup, teasing, not proofread warnings spicy drinking game/spicy question(s), VERY ALMOST smut (read at your own caution), very suggestive, food related (smudging on areas on the body to clean up), vivid description of licking, hickies word count 1.4k cly's note honestly writing suggestive/almost smut fics are lowkey out of my comfort zone but i wanted to give yall another one after seeing how much support dangerous got. if i wasn't so awkward with this topic, jungwon would've been more bold and confident LOL. don't think i wrote this as well as dangerous but hope yall enjoy this too!

As you finished taking a shot, you immediately gulped down the liquid in an attempt to reduce the effects that the alcohol has on you. You sighed as you felt the burning sensation in your throat, your face tensing up as you slowly felt the sensation disappear. Jungwon chuckled as he held up the alcohol bottle and poured you another shot. As the sensation in your throat fully died off, you quickly cleared your throat, "I'm done".

He gave you an approving hum and smile as he patted your back, knowing that you weren't such a good drinker unlike him. You sat back on your chair, letting your head hang over the edge as you stared into the ceiling. The room was dimly lit up by a warm light, the walls and ceiling looking more of a dark orange.

You could almost tell that feeling in your stomach was coming — y'know, that feeling when you drink a lot of alcohol. Your head was starting to feel light and as your heart starts to race, you suddenly feel like you want to do a lot of things.

"Hey!" you called out, and Jungwon's eyebrows raised, anticipating to what you were going to say next. "Drinking game, let's play," you suggested.

And that was exactly how you got even more wasted. You were panting as you felt your head spin, almost feeling like you were going to pass out. Jungwon laughed as he watched you in your drunken state, folding his arms and relaxing back on his chair, "Are you sure you can continue? I can bring you to bed now if you want".

"No!" you slammed your shot glass down onto the table, determined to prove that you could drink more, even if your boyfriend already knew damn well that you were already pass your limit. "I.. can do thiss," you mumbled, your speech already starting to slur from the alcohol.

"Y'know what?!" you exclaimed, standing up from your chair and slightly startling Jungwon and you looked at him with determined eyes, "Spicy. Let's play spicy".

Jungwon's eyes were slightly widened as he realised what you were asking for. You wanted to play spicy drinking games, and his mind has run wild, the number of things he wants to do being unlimited. His face slightly burns up at the idea and he shook his head.

"I'd love to, but-" "Wonnie!" "You're drunk, Y/N."

You pouted. "So what?!" He ran his fingers throug his hair, feeling slightly agitated. "I don't want to take advantage of that!"

You looked at him with half-lidded eyes, "I don't care. Do it".

He bit his lip, and if you were sober enough, you can physically see him lose control from the way his brows furrow and how he exhaled audibly. He was losing it. He wanted to respect boundaries, and you were tempting him.

He spoke, his voice deep. "Who was your best kiss? Me or yor ex?". You chuckled, your eyelids barely opened as you pointed at him without hesitation. "You, duh". You've slightly sobered up already since all you've been doing is answering his questions honestly, avoiding any shots.

He nodded his head in approval, trying his best to compose yourself until you continued talking. "I fucking love the way your lips ruin me whenever—".

Jungwon, with his reddened ears, covered your mouth which silenced you. You giggled as his mouth prevented you from talking, and you could hear him sigh. Though he agreed to play your spicy "Truth or Drink" game, he still wanted to respect the boundaries, but you were forcing him to push it, his self-control slowly slipping away.

He sighed as he slowly released your mouth, watching you as he slowly leaned back. "It's your turn," he furrowed his eyebrows upwards, feeling slightly shy as to what you might ask him. You've always found him adorable that he was always shy at these topics even when you and him have already done a lot.

You decided to shoot a question, "Do you have any fantasies I don't know about?".

He seemed to ponder for a second, his eyes looking empty and him pursing his lips, and just as soon as he picked up his shot glass and was about to gulp it down, you grabbed his wrist to prevent it from moving.

Your eyes were dark and determined. "What is it?" your tone sounding open, yet demanding. The tension in the air suddenly grew, the silence becoming more unbearable as you two stared into each other's eyes. He grew more nervous, gulping and pursing his lips as you could see him decide if he should tell you or not.

"It's okay, baby," you comforted him, encouraging him to be more open.

"Food" he quicky muttered. "What?" "I said food."

You looked at his face and you could tell his face was completely red, and you knew it wasn't from the alcohol. He bit his lip and furrowed his eyebrows, feeling sheepish that he finally admitted something he'd been hiding.

"What about it?" "The thought of you smearing food on your naked body for me to clean up with my mouth is just.."

His whole face was a bright shade of red and he broke eye contact, afraid to see what kind of facial expression you're making to his confession. You lifted his chin up with your finger, "Let's do it".

There were two differences that were made. One being that you were now shifted into your room from the living room since Jungwon offered to carry you with his trustworthy strength and arms, and second being that you were completely bare. You hugged your legs as the cold air hit your body, waiting for Jungwon to return until you heard the door slowly creak open.

Jungwon appeared, holding the Hershey's syrup bottle you stored in your refrigerator, and at the the bare sight of you, his breath hitched. He gulped as he walked towards you, being conscious of the way you were w him wtching with pedatory gaze.

He gulped as he climbed onto the bed, his knees pressing onto the sheets, staring at you, having a flustered expression take over his facial features. No, this wasn't his first rodeo with you, but it was his first with his most hidden fantasy.

He slowly handed you over the syrup bottle, your fingers brushing his for a moment and without a moment of hesitation, you immediately started to squeeze out the syrup onto different parts of your body — your knees, outer thighs, stomach, collarbone, neck.

His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you being fully covered in syrup. His heart skipped a beat as he took a few seconds to scan your entire body up and down. He licked his lips and he slowly started to climb over you, eyeing the first spot that he wanted to clean up first — your knees.

His tip of his tongue flicked against your knee, the temperature difference between his tongue and your skin making you shiver. His muscle immediately started to clean you up, using various movements such as long strikes or short kitten licks. He quickly cleaned up the syrup on your knee and he started to progress to the other areas such as your outer thigh.

He sucked the skin along the way, leaving light hickies that were bright red. He slowly pushed you down on the bed as he hovered over you, a shadow forming over you, next cleaning up your stomach. You watched how his eyes fluttered close and how he took his own time to clean you up.

"Teasing me aren't you?" he mumbled as he was in the midst of cleaning up your stomach, taking a quick second to look at you. You smirked, knowing exactly what he'd meant. You'd purposefully avoided all the core parts as you wanted to leave it last.

"Be patient, will you?" you shot, enjoying how he whines and just continues.

He'd just finished cleaning up your collarbone and neck, and without taking a break, you immediately started to pour the syrup out to areas where he'd been anticipating to the most. His jaw had dropped at the breath-taking sight of you, almost believing that he was dreaming.

"How about, we start here?" you challenged as you poured the syrup on your lips, his eyes watching the syrup as it lands on your mouth and drips down your chin.

extra note GRHAUDEWFN I FEEL SO SHY THAT I WROTE THIS. OH MY GOD. okay. i hope you guys enjoyed this. I HOPE THIS WASNT TOO CRINGE THIS IS LOWK MY FIRST SMUT FIC. im gunna sleep this away GOODNIGHT.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy

synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help

contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!

word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)

notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋

he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.

he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses. 

what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.

“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”

“you’re late,” you spit.

“am i? i could have sworn—”

“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy. 

“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly. 

what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.

“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”

“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”

typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.

he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials. 

i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has. 

but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed. 

he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer. 

you hate him.

“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”

“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”

“what?” your eye twitches.

“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”

before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.

“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”

“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”

is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.

“you’re an asshole,” you spit.

“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal. 

“i saw you post on your story last night—”

“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”

“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”

“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”

“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.

“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.

“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”

“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”

“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”

“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.

—————

like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.

hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished

btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come 

i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him

oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)

you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.

okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.

k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.

the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.

wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?

that’s ok i don’t judge

so how bout the party? 

i can be ur escort ;) 

it’ll be fun!

from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.

—————

gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you. 

frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.

he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before. 

it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes. 

why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself? 

gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy. 

“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly. 

why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.

“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.

gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.

“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.

“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”

“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”

“he has a name. it’s—”

“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”

“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?

“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”

“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.

okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.

he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”

“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”

“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”

“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”

“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”

“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”

“you mentioned it first!”

“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”

“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”

“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”

he is not lazy, he wants to argue.

but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway. 

—————

the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy. 

gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are. 

“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”

“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.

“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”

you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood. 

“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.

“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”

you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”

he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can. 

“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”

“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.

“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams. 

settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.

“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”

he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.

“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”

“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”

you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird. 

okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.

“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room. 

“what makes you say that?”

“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”

he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.

“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”

“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.

“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”

“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact. 

but not so bad. 

“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”

“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”

“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”

—————

“hey, satoru?”

“that’s not my name.”

“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.

“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.” 

you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.

“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.

“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”

“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”

“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”

“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”

finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.

satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real

[solarisquared]

fun little update regarding the void

hi! After my (near) success on day 1, I realised that the void is truly not a scam and entering it is not some sort of grand challenge. So, like I did on day 1, I started meditating before sleep everyday.

In this post, I have tried my best to explain everything that was happening. I included my experiences from day one to four. I've also included general learnings and observations in the end.

Day 2 as I listened to the person guiding the meditation I experienced this heightened awareness of something yet nothing (ykwim?) I was tapping into something that my brain wasn’t used to, and it freaked me out a bit. I suddenly became hyper-aware of my body—every heartbeat, every breath, the blood rushing in my veins. It was overwhelming, so I ended up sleeping, trying to process what had just happened. I chose to sleep.

Day 3 I was doing this at 2 am in the night. Suddenly, I felt goosebumps all across my body, and started feeling like something was with me in the room lol. Scared asf, I said my prayers and slept.

Day 4 I WAS SO CLOSE! I was meditating, and lost in my own thoughts, I started daydreaming about something, when I felt my mindspace expanding, and I immediately knew I was the entering the void. suddenly extremely jarred, I shifted my body and brought my focus to my environment and the feeling instantly vanished. I felt this insane pressure on both of my arms, something that happens in when you are in a hypnagogic state or something. And then I decided to just sleep.

what I learned from my attempts :-

Something I noticed in my attempts was that, I was tired enough that I just melted into my bed, in that heady state where I wasn't like, hyperaware of my surroundings like I usually am.

Whenever, the transition happened, I didn't realise it until some time later. I finally realised that that much level of unawareness you have to bring about the 3d to enter. I was probably zoning out, solely listening to the meditation guide or suddenly daydreaming & didn't even realise what was happening.. A lot of success stories match this theme you know, like how they did not realise they were in the void until moments later, or how they experienced the same symptoms that I did and they stayed calm and entered... blah blah blah.

Right now, I've realised all I need to do is nothing and just chill and enter.

Was I confident about what I was doing? I wasn't until I saw that I was doing something strikingly the same to these 100% success rate methods, a sort of combo between this one by @catherineaboutlife & the distraction method by @luckykiwiii101 (yeah, the one that's all the rage these days).

I believe the reason why these methods work so well is because it is what I have seen 90% of people who entered doing, they were focused enough to focus on something enough like breathing, day dreaming, something, enough to take their attention off themselves and enter. SO focus = key. It doesn't even matter what u focus on.

conclusion:-

don't stress. just chill and enter. this whole thing is 100% real

[fear-is-truth]

⋆𐙚 ₊ pregnancy announcement .ᐟ

requested by anon

ft. kit walker ‧ kyle spencer ‧ kai anderson ‧ rory monahan ‧ peter maximoff ‧ colin zabel

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

kit would be stunned at first, eyes widening as he processes the news. but a slow smile would spread across his face as he takes it in. a soft joy would fill his expression as he realises he’s about to become a father, and he’d pull you into a big hug.

his protective side would instantly surface. as someone who would do anything to keep his loved ones safe, he’d be extra cautious about your well-being. “tell me if you need anything, alright?” he’d want to make sure you’re comfy and taken care of, going out of his way to handle things so you can rest.

he’d worry about whether he can be a good father. he’d confide in you, saying, “i just hope i can be the dad this little one deserves.” he’d want to do everything right, maybe even overthinking small details about parenting, but he’d be earnest in his desire to give your child a better life.

would immediately start making plans for the future, thinking about practical things like finding a safe place to live, budgeting, and making sure there’s enough space for your growing family. he’d sit down with you to talk about these things, wanting to be responsible and prepare as much as possible.

works extra shifts to earn more money.

he’d become even more attentive, watching out for anything you might need, even if it’s something small. kit would check in on you constantly, asking if you’re okay, if you need anything. insisting on doing things for you, like cooking (or attempting to), lifting things, or making sure you’re relaxed.

hope you don’t get kidnapped by aliens lol

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

completely bewildered, his eyes widening and his jaw dropping slightly. he’d never expect something like this, not now, not while he’s still in college.

nervously laugh, thinking maybe it’s a joke (even though he knew you wouldn’t joke about things like this) . “wait… seriously?”

once he’s wrapped his head around the news, he’d immediately ask, “are you okay? how do you feel?” wanting to make sure you’re not scared or upset.

the second question he’s ask is whether you’d want to keep the baby. he’d respect your decision no matter what. it’s your body, after all.

kyle is a smart and super responsible guy, he’d begin overthinking everything. “oh my god, we need to figure everything out—where are we gonna live? i don’t even have a real job yet!” his mind would fill with thoughts of money, school, and what your parents would say.

he’d want to start planning for the future, but he’d be panicked about how little time you both might have. he’d talk about finishing school quickly, getting a job, saving up, and trying to secure a better living situation.

you’d probably hear him start cracking dad jokes way too soon.

would randomly ask, “do you think the baby will have your eyes?” or “do you think they’ll like sports?” he’d start imagining what kind of person your child will be, picturing what it’ll be like to raise them together, and getting really invested in the idea of being a dad.

⟢ 𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐍.

his excitement would be matched by a fierce desire to shield you and the baby from public attention. “we don’t need the whole world in our business,” he’d say, giving you a serious look as he assures you he’ll do everything he can to keep the news private.

though he’s usually very open and upbeat on social media, rory would hold back from posting anything about the pregnancy until he feels it’s the right time. he’d cherish these early moments in private, making sure you’re protected from the stress of the spotlight. if he’s asked by friends or fans, he’d stay low-key, not wanting to give anything away until you both feel ready to share the news.

the two of you would joke and laugh about all the outlandish hollywood baby names out there, making ridiculous suggestions “can you imagine if we named the kid ‘rayleigh moonbeam monahan’?”

when you two finally announce the pregnancy, he’d choose a special photo—you glowing and visibly pregnant or a snapshot of the ultrasound. the caption would be heartfelt like , “just when i thought life couldn’t get any better with you, y/n… along comes our little one to prove me wrong. feeling so grateful, blessed, and ready for this next chapter together. ❤️”

would be adamant about protecting the baby’s identity, using stickers or taking photos from behind to shield your child’s face. he wants them to have a real childhood, not just be “rory monahan’s kid.”

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

the moment you tell him you’re pregnant, kai’s eyes would light up with an almost crazed joy. he’d instantly see this as the fulfillment of his vision, his grand plan for creating a “messiah baby.”

would immediately assume control over the entire situation. he’d tell you that everything will now revolve around the pregnancy and what this child represents.

would obsess over every detail related to the pregnancy. he’d dictate what you eat, how you exercise, and even what kind of prenatal care you receive, believing that this child must be raised under perfect conditions.

he’d talk about how this child will be the first to be raised in his image, with his values and beliefs. “i’ll teach them everything they need to know. they’ll be stronger, smarter, better than anyone else,” he’d promise. he’d start planning out the child’s entire life before they’re even born, from their education to their role in the movement. (wow. poor kid lol)

despite being an asshole, kai would show an intense devotion to you during the pregnancy. you’re the mother of the messiah, after all. he’d shower you with praise and attention, possibly even becoming more affectionate. say things like, “you’re perfect. you’re giving me the greatest gift anyone could ever give.”

there would be moments where kai’s obsession give way to genuine tenderness. he’d touch your bump with awe, whispering, “i can’t believe it… we’re creating something amazing.” there’d be an almost childlike wonder in his eyes at times, as he’s totally in awe of the life growing inside you.

would be super gentle during sex and even go down on you when you’re horny :)

⟢ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋.

when you tell colin you’re pregnant, he’d froze, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide in absolute disbelief. his expression slowly shifting from shock to wonder. completely lost for words, standing there and struggling to find a response, yet somehow still managing to look at you with pure awe.

then, without warning, he’d swept you up into his arms. “are you serious? we’re going to be parents?” his voice shaking slightly as the reality settled in. then the two of you would kiss deeply, colin holding you close as he tries to pour all his excitement, gratitude, and love into that one kiss.

starts reading up on everything he can about pregnancy, making sure he’s prepared for every step.

he’d sit you down with a notebook and start talking about houses, school districts, and daycare options.

whatever your craving—whether it’s pickles, ice cream, or some random weird food—you can count on him to show up with it, no matter the hour. “got your favourite, plus a backup in case you change your mind,” (colin zabel the man that you are)

would get so invested in learning about babies that you’d find him falling asleep with baby books and parenting guides in his lap. he’d read up on everything from swaddling techniques to tips on managing sleep schedules, wanting to be as prepared as possible.

meticulous about getting everything ready for the baby, safety-proofing the house, researching baby essentials etc. when you start picking out strollers, cribs, and bottles, colin would obsess over quality and safety ratings.

be prepared for dad jokes.

⟢ 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅.

when you first tell him, he’d literally freeze. *peter.exe has stopped working*. “whoa… wait… a baby? like a real tiny person?” he’d feel overwhelmed, knowing he’s on the verge of a huge life change and trying to wrap his head around what it means to be responsible for another human being.

always ready to run off and get whatever weird snacks you’re in the mood for.

would totally go overboard in the baby shopping department, especially toys and gadgets. he’d bring home all sorts of things that seem way too advanced, like gaming consoles and motorized toys, “look, our kid’s gonna be a tech whiz,” he’d say, holding up the PS5 he bought.

he’d immediately start practicing his dad jokes. “did you hear about the cheese factory explosion? there was de-brie everywhere!”

peter would be driven by a deep desire to be the kind of father he always wished for himself. quiet moments of reflection, probably late at night, thinking about all the ways he can be there for your child. “i’m gonna make sure our kid knows they’re loved every day.” he’d tell you. it’d become a goal he’d never stop working toward, fueled by his love for you and the family you’re about to start together.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[joelsmochi]

honeypie - joel miller

summary: part 2 to honey (can be read as a standalone, doesn’t have much to do with the original plot!) warnings: not proofread, 18+, slight angst?, age gap (everyone is legal!!!!!), bickering/arguing, double date trope womp womp, degradation, dubcon, creampie, joel is a smidge misogynistic insecure and possessive wc: 2.6k a/n: this is mainly just some self indulgent yet rushed storytelling (so sorry, i wrote it in an hour because i was bored at work lol)! i wanna write a part 3 and actually include the beekeeping a little more but i have nooo idea how i’m gonna do it but we WILL get there one day babes!!! until then, enjoy this fluffy angsty sex 😽!!!💓

series masterlist | main masterlist

-

“If you guys are gonna bang when I’m in the house the least you could do is be quiet!” You heard Sarah shout from the other side of Joel’s bedroom door after banging on it.

Joel grimaced, his body tensing beneath you but you were almost oblivious to the complaints of your best friend. Almost.

You didn’t let up on your movements or noises whatsoever and as much as Joel loved those sweet little moans spewing from you as you humped against him, he loved his privacy much more especially when it came to his daughter.

You shook your head profusely when he attempted to get you to stop, insisting on how you were almost there.

“Soclosesoclosesoclose—just w-wait, I’m cu—fuck. Ahh, fuck, I’m cumming. Oh yes! Yesyesyesyesyes! Ohh—oh, my God—“

Joel covered your mouth with a clammy hand, feeling torn from his mixed feelings of lust and embarrassment.

Going downstairs didn’t help him feel any better either, especially when Sarah began berating you both, not that he blamed her for it.

“Call it payback for all the times I let you and your boyfriend have sex in my bed,” you retorted.

“In your bed?!” Joel mumbled to himself.

“Yeah yeah, could have at least waited until I was gone,” Sarah muttered.

“Sorry, Sar,” you hummed, “your dad is just really hot.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Come on, man.”

“I didn’t even know you were home,” Joel complained. “You’ve been with Jared or whatever his name is all week.”

Sarah’s squinted her eyes, annoyed by the lack of care from her father. “Alex. His name is Alex dad—see, I hate this!”

“Oh, by the way, Sarah,” you said, pattering behind the kitchen counter, “wouldn’t use the open jar of honey if I were you.”

“UGH! EW! Fucking ew!”

♡

“Other than the obvious,” Sarah mumbled, “how’s my dad taking care of you?”

You wore a bright smile and looked away from your reflection momentarily. Joel was… Joel. Rough around the edges but he was a genuine person, confident in the external reality but a little insecure. Not unbearably insecure though, just enough to make you know he was trying his best.

He wasn’t the most romantic but you figured it was just from him being out of the game for so long and you knew you could train him to be more romantic if it was needed.

He didn’t push you aside or make attempts to subtly suggest you needed to leave after sex either; he’d pout real big and give you those gorgeous puppy dog eyes until you held him. He loved making you laugh.

But it definitely still felt like just sex rather than a relationship. You weren’t particularly complaining, but you weren’t bragging about it either.

“Good,” you answered.

Sarah could tell from your tone how honest it was. Good meant great, happy, damn near perfect.

“Good. I’m glad,” she said. “I was worried he’d be like one of those incels that get real creepy and pervy after thirty-five.”

“No, no, he’s great,” you reiterated. “He’s very funny. Smart. He asks me to tan in my bikini while he’s working on the hive or the yard.”

You watched from the corner of your makeup coated eye how tightly she grimaced.

“Images. In head. Don’t want them there,” she dramatized.

“I have to hear every last detail about you and Al up to where he’s shoving your cervix into your stomach. You can deal with a little sexiness from us,” you said.

“It’s just so weird,” she whined.

“Do you want me to stop seeing him?” You asked.

You had slowly began to worry about how this would affect your best friend over time, you knew it was a weird situation. You had no issue cutting Joel off if it meant Sarah got to be happy. There were other men in the world, there weren’t other Sarah’s.

“No, God! No. It’s just not as simple as I was expecting. You know?” She explained kindly.

“Totally! I’d be weirded out if you were hooking up with my dad while I was across the hall. I’m not blaming you there, or anywhere for that matter. Just know you come first.”

“Well, yeah, who else is going to wax your back hair and not judge you for it?” She teased.

You rolled your eyes at her.

“Lots of men with weird fetishes.”

♡

“Can’t believe I agreed to this,” Joel huffed.

He adjusted the waistband of his jeans making his shoulder briefly flare. You let your mind wander while Joel complained about the double date you had arranged with Sarah and Alex. You were currently waiting in the parking lot for them to arrive.

“It’ll be fun. You’ll get to meet Alex and see he is a respectable man and you and I get to pretend we’re a couple for a few hours.”

“Pretend?” Joel questioned. “W-what do you mean pretend? Are we not together?”

“Uh, no?” You said.

Joel didn’t appreciate your amused reaction and questioned you a little more.

“You never asked me to be your girlfriend— you haven’t even taken me on a date,” you explained. “Did you really think that conversation wasn’t necessary?”

“So if we’re not together then what is this?”

You sucked your teeth before simply saying, “Sex.”

Once the four of you were inside Sarah and her boyfriend felt the tension between the two of you.

You watched Joel punch in all of your names into the keypad before pressing ‘start game’.

“So Alex, what do you do for work?” Joel asked.

“Oh, well right now I’m working at a café downtown, but I’m majoring in political science to become a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” Joel sounded impressed.

“Lawyers are great at communicating,” you antagonized. “They know what questions are… Important to ask.”

Joel rolled his eyes and motioned between you and the bowling balls. “Just go. Good God.”

“Dad, what did you do?” Sarah asked.

“Why do you assume it’s my fault?” He defended.

“Girl, what did he do?” She asked you.

Shrugging, you said, “I don’t know. Since Joel thinks he’s so great at communicating, maybe he should answer. I’m gonna go bowl.”

“Hope you gutter!” Joel shouted after you walked away. “She told me I needed to ask her to be my girlfriend.”

“You thought she was your girlfriend?!” Sarah said with wide eyes.

“Well… Yeah? Do I really need to verbally ask her that?”

“That’s why I got a strike, bitch,” you said while slapping the back of Joel’s head.

Sarah and Alex awkwardly stood up so that he could pretend to teach Sarah how to bowl properly. But the bickering between you and Joel didn’t end there.

“I thought it was obvious,” Joel told you. “I have you over all the time. We fuck. We laugh. Did I really need to ask?”

“So what would have happened if I pissed you off and you were to say ‘it’s not like you’re my girlfriend’?”

“I do not sound like that!” Joel scoffed. “And I would never do that to you, you know that. I just kinda figured you were mine, you know?”

You squinted at his unearned possession over you, feigning offense and scoffing obnoxiously.

“Yours? I’m not your property, Joel. You don’t get to claim me.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you goin’ to do about it? Fuck some other loser?”

You grinned, and immediately he regretted his words.

“That’s exactly what I’ll do,” you whispered.

Alex and Sarah sat back down and you asked if they wanted anything to eat or drink before walking away to go to the bar.

“Hi, what can I get for ya?” The boy at the counter asked.

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen, why?”

“You see the older man on lane twelve?”

He looked and then nodded.

“Well, I wanna make jealous so if you could just smile and pretend to flirt with me I’ll give you ten bucks,” you explained with a sly smirk.

“Fifteen,” he negotiated.

“Ugh, fine. Can I get two lemonades, a beer, and a water please?”

“That’s not coming out of my tip, is it?” He questioned whilst punching the order into his screen.

“It will if you don’t start looking at my boobs,” you said through your faux smile.

You leaned onto the counter and gave the employee a clear view of your cleavage, which he seemed to appreciate very much.

But Joel wasn’t only focused on the teenage boy behind the counter, he noticed the numerous men gawking at your short shorts that showed off too much of your ass with you bent over the counter the way you were.

“Dad,” Sarah’s voice brought him back to reality. “Your turn.”

By the time Joel managed to spare you had returned with everyone’s drinks and Joel didn’t give you the satisfying reaction of jealousy like you’d hoped.

Wondering if you went too far, you drank a bit of Joel’s beer to imprint a lip gloss stain for Joel to taste in between sips. Something you noticed he loved to do over the past few weeks whenever he made you coffee or tea. You never finished your drinks and Joel always lined his mouth up with your lip print to taste you every chance he got.

And as you gave him the cheap plastic cup that held his beer, you watched as he habitually sipped right where your lips had been. Occasionally licking the rim of the cup before taking his next swig.

A couple of games later, you and Sarah managed to team up against the boys and kick their asses each and every frame. They sulked while you two gloated from the ending of the final game all the way back to the cars.

“Okay, okay. We get it, girls rule, boys lose,” Alex said.

“It’s boys drool,” Sarah corrected before turning to hug her father who placed a kiss on her forehead. “Night, dad. I’m gonna stay at Alex’s.”

“Okay, babygirl. Call me tomorrow.”

“Oh, and word of advice,” Sarah whispered after you got into Joel’s car. “Girls like what boys consider pointless communication. Take her out a few times, make her feel special, and ask her to be your girlfriend. She really likes you, she’s just making you earn it.”

Joel softly smiled and nodded. “Mmkay. Thanks.”

Once he got in the car he didn’t acknowledge you in the least bit, finally free to punish you for letting those men get a free show.

“Not a word?” You nudged his arm as he drove. “You could ask me now.”

He snickered, the most noise he’s made in the last ten minutes.

“You don’t get to just fucking claim me, Joel!”

Joel sped up before pulling into a rest area.

“Come’ere,” he hoarsely demanded.

He unclipped his seatbelt and began undoing his belt and jeans.

“Don’t get all fuckin’ shy on me now, girl. Come on.”

You hesitated but unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed into his lap; he moved his seat all the way back and pushed his jeans low enough for his cock to spring up and slap his belly.

Instinctively you reached for it, but he removed your hand from his hardening length and held your wrists tightly behind your back with one hand. Using his other hand to grab your face by your cheeks he forced you to look into his cold eyes.

“Do you not want to be with me?” His voice strained as he asked that, a hint of hurt glaring in his dark eyes.

“Of course I want to be with you,” you answered.

“I don’t play games,” he said, gripping your wrists even tighter. “Don’t fucking—“ A soft smack landed upon your cheek. “Don’t fucking do what you did tonight ever again. Get on your knees.”

He slightly shoved you back as he loosened his grip on your hands and face; you submissively sank to the rough carpeted floor of the car and he wasted no time pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail and shoving his fat dick into your wet mouth.

He tasted so fucking good, the mix of his clean flesh and salty precum like honey dripping onto your tongue. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned along his shaft as you eagerly bobbed your already hazy head up and down.

Joel’s hips rolled up in pleasure, gurgling out helpless moans as your nose rubbed the wiry hairs along the base of his shaft. Despite the aching and soreness, you loved having your throat full of Joel.

You took initiative and pushed against his hand, nonverbally telling him to make you suffer, and he shamelessly did so.

He couldn’t tell if the slick that was coating his balls was your spit or tears and he didn’t give a fuck. If you were going to show some loser teenager your tits and some loser bachelors your ass the least you could give him was some fucking remorse, right?

Joel felt powerful, in charge in ways he never experienced before. Your flooded eyes looked into his and saw how contorted his face was, so even if he was the one telling you what to do you knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

“Give me that fuckin’ throat, baby,” he moaned. “Oh, fuck! That throat is so fucking tight—mnh. God…damn baby. Feels so fucking good.”

He smacked your wet cheeks as encouragement before slowly pulling you off of his dick; you coughed at the gust of oxygen that flooded your lungs, giggling as he smacked his fat tip against your puffy mouth.

“Look at you, baby,” he whispered. “So pretty when my cock shuts that smart fuckin’ mouth a’yours up.”

“You love my fucking mouth,” you smugly said as you climbed into his lap.

“I do, but I think you forget what it’s supposed to be used for,” he whispered.

“You can stuff my mouth all you want, I’m still gonna give you a reason to use it.”

An eyebrow of his cocked up and a grin spread across his face at your confidence.

“Take your pants off,” he instructed seductively. His rough hands ran up your arms and back while you did what he said. “There you go,” he moaned when you slid down on his wet cock. “You’re such a good fucking slut for me, honey.”

“Just—just ask me, and I’ll s-say yes!” You shakily moaned as you relentlessly bounced on his dick.

Joel gripped your neck and began fucking into you from below, pushing deeper than he needed to, definitely bruising your cervix.

“You know you belong to me. All that fucking shit about claiming you and how I don’t own you, fuck was that?”

“Joe—elll, ugh!” You screamed into his chest, not sure if you were cumming or if your cunt was just overwhelmed with sensitivity. “Just ask, just ask baby I promise I’ll be good I’ll never misbehave again.”

He popped your ass and chuckled cruelly when you flinched and moaned. “Be my girlfriend, babydoll. Hmm? I want you to be my girl. You’re already my slut. Will you be my girl, babydoll?”

Your eyes gawked up at him and you couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged against your lips.

“Yes! Yes, yes, baby! Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

“Say it,” he begged. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours Joel! Fuckfuckyes I’m yours! I belong to you! I fucking belong to you!”

Joel felt the familiar deep stretch in the peak of his belly at your cries. He listened to you submit to him, let him claim you as his, ultimately marking his territory as he began to cum inside of your warm cunt.

“Thaaaat’s my good girl,” Joel growled as he fucked the last of his spend into you.

“Fuck,” you exhaled, climbing off of him. “You’re such an ass.”

He chuckled at this, the softness in his laughter coaxing a giggle from you.

“You love me,” he mumbled.

“Mmm, not quite,” you said as confidently as your tired body would allow.

“Oh, honeypie… You’ll get there soon enough.”

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐥' 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫

miami rick x reader

✧ request: Could you please do a fic where Miami Rick is kissing Y/N’s cervix and when she tries to push him away he says “move your fucking hand” ? @lavender-bong-water hope you like it, pookie! ✧ tags: vaginal fingering, dirty talk, pet names, degradation, cervix kissing, choking, raw, cream pie, miami loves your thighs, f!reader, ofc again not beta read lol, miami being a cutie at the end, daddy kink ✧ wc: 3.1k

Miami Rick was not only a devilish troublemaker, he was a businessman. He owned multiple bars, clubs and hotels all around the galaxies, universes and realities. Even the citadel allowed him to open a club on its ground. What made it really special however was none other than you.

Back in his original universe he got to know you on miami beach, working at a bar and mixing drinks. Of course Miami was not only captivated by your figure in that snug tight bikini, the way your tits almost bounced out everytime you bent over the counter, you mixed some pretty good drinks as well. It didn’t take long for him to pursue you to work for him instead – he promised you a high pay and fun, something you would never encounter in your recent job. Curiosity bagged the cat and Miami took you to his club at the citadel.

Granted it was hard to get you some kind of working visa but thankfully the other Ricks were just as mesmerized by your body and the sweet alcoholics you ended up serving. Working there was, indeed, fun. You were a hit, Ricks loved seeing a pretty woman serve them and Miami loved making money.

And now, one year later, Miami sat at the bar of the club, toothpick between his teeth, as he stared at his pretty little barkeeper.

In the heart of the citadel's nightlife scene lies the most renowned club, pulsating with energy and allure. Amidst the thumping beats and swirling lights, there's a focal point of magnetism, embodied in the form of the barkeeper, a woman whose allure transcends mere beauty.

You moved behind the bar with an effortless grace, your every motion a symphony of confidence and allure. Your attire, a tantalizing blend of sophistication and allure, hugged your curves in all the right places, leaving just enough to the imagination to fuel the fantasies of the patrons who flock around you.

Ricks of all sorts of versions gravitate towards you like moths to a flame, their eyes fixated on her every move. Some attempt casual conversation, hoping to capture even a moment of your attention, while others simply gaze from afar, spellbound by your presence. But you navigated the attention with a practiced ease, acknowledging each admirer with a captivating smile that hints at untold secrets.

Behind your intoxicating facade lies a woman of depth and intelligence, your sharp wit matching your physical allure. You listened to the stories and desires of those who seek your company, offering a fleeting glimpse into your world with every exchange.

Yet, amidst the chaos of the club, you remained an enigma, your allure unattainable yet irresistible. For those who dare to dream, you embodied the epitome of desire, a siren luring them into a world of hedonistic pleasures.

Amidst the swirling haze of cigarette smoke and pulsating music, Miami lurked in the shadows, his eyes fixated on you with an intensity that borders on obsession. With a toothpick clutched between his teeth, he watched your every move, his mind consumed by a primal desire that refuses to be quelled.

As you moved behind the bar, effortlessly enchanting those around you with your beguiling charm, Miami imagined himself in your presence, his fantasies running wild with the prospect of possessing you at least for a night. In his mind's eye, Miami envisions you succumbing to his every whim, your skin pressed against his, your breath hot against his neck as he pounds into you.

You shared a moment that ignited a fire within you both, once, a few days ago. It was a hot, steamy kiss that seared your souls, leaving Miami breathless and wanting more.

Your lips met in a fervent embrace, a collision of passion and desire that sent shockwaves through your bodies. In that stolen moment, time stood still as you lost yourselves in the heat of your longing, your hands exploring each other with an urgency born of pent-up desire.

For him, that kiss was a revelation, awakening a primal hunger that consumed him from within. From that moment on, his fantasies grew darker and more intense, his thoughts consumed by the need to fuck you.

Miami yearned for rough, dirty sex, craving the taste of your skin, the sound of your moans filling the air like a symphony of desire. He wanted to take you with a raw, primal intensity.

As he continued to stare at you from across the room, his gaze burning with unbridled lust, Miami knew that he would do whatever it took to make his fantasies a reality.

With a self-assured stride, he approached the bar, his movements purposeful and confident. Closing the distance between you, Miami positioned himself right behind you, his chest pressing against your back in a deliberate display of closeness.

Leaning in, Miami offered his assistance with a playful grin, his voice dripping with charm.

"Looks like you could use a hand, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. His words carry a teasing undertone, an invitation for you to engage in a seductive dance.

As he reached past you to help with the tasks at hand, his touch was lingering and deliberate, sending a rush of sensation through you. Each brush of his fingers against yours ignites a spark of electricity, heightening the tension between you two.

He's acutely aware of the risks of giving in to temptation, but in this moment, the allure of you is too potent to resist. And so, Miami continued to flirt and tease, toeing the line between professionalism and desire, his every move a testament to the primal hunger that thrums beneath the surface. But does professionalism really mean anything to Miami? Fuck no.

As the music pulsed in the background, Miami pressed himself further against you, wrapping his arm around your waist with a possessive yet tantalizing grip. Drawing you closer, he felt the heat radiating.

With a low, seductive murmur, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your earlobe as he whispered sweet nothings that sent shivers down your spine.

“Come on, baby, let’s–let’s go to the other room.”

“You remember that kiss, right? Wanna k–kiss something else now.”

“Let daddy fuck you.”

His kisses and playful nibbles on your earlobe caused you to melt into his embrace, feeling his hard-on pressing against your ass.

Around you, the patrons of the club took notice of your intimate display. Some watched with interest, captivated by the raw sensuality that radiated from the pair. Others, feeling the urge to dance and seek their own adventures, left the bar to join the pulsating rhythm of the dance floor.

But for you, the world outside of your embrace faded into obscurity as you lost yourselves in each other.

“Promise to fuck me real good?”, what a teasing way you agreed.

Miami felt a rush of adrenaline curse through his veins. He knew you would say yes, he knew you were playing hard to get ever since he met you for the first time at the beach. Only a snicker fell from his lips as he grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you into a small room at the back of the bar. The other Ricks had to wait.

“Fucking finally”, he growled with a primal hunger in his eyes, he closed the distance between you, his footsteps purposeful and deliberate.

Before you could react, he had you pinned against the door, his body pressed firmly against yours once again, trapping you between him and the hard surface. Startled, you gasped, but Miami silenced you with a look that spoke volumes, a silent command for your obedience.

With a swift and commanding motion, he lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. There was a wildness in his eyes, a raw desire that sent a thrill coursing through you, mingled with a hint of danger that only served to heighten your senses.

“I’ve been thinking–thinking about this ever since we kissed, sweetheart.”

Without a word, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a possessive kiss that left you breathless and wanting more. Miami’s hands roamed over your body with a primal urgency, igniting a fire within you that blazed hotter with each passing moment. Suddenly he pushed his leg between yours, pressing against your most intimate part.

You could feel the strength in his touch, the controlled power of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and wasn't afraid to take it. Every caress, every brush of his lips against your skin, sent shivers of pleasure racing through you, driving you to the brink of madness.

And as you finally pulled apart, breathless and spent, Miami stared at your face with a smug grin gracing his lips. You looked so cute, he wanted to eat you. Blushed face, out of breath, eyes half closed, looking up to him oh so seductively. Did you even understand, had the slightest idea, how much you drive him crazy?

“Why are you so fucking cute and sexy at the same time?”

One hand reached down, his thumb tracing your lips before he slowly pushed it between your lips into your mouth. Slowly you wrapped your lips around his finger and let your tongue lick around it. Both of you gazed into each other's eyes, losing yourselves in each other. You could feel yourself getting wet while Miami’s cock was already hard, begging to be pulled out of his pants.

“Such a good, good girl for me, huh? What do you want, baby?”, he asked as he pulled his thumb out with a loud ‘pop’.

“P-please…please touch me.”

You didn’t need to say it twice. Instantly Miami reached down, thankful that you decided to wear a skirt to work – not only did he love the look, it made everything easier. This was going to be the best quickie of both of your lives and he was going to make sure of that. Did he bother to take your skirt off? No. It was surprising that he even had the patience to prep you instead of fucking you right there and then. 

“My lil’ barkeeper”, he cooed into your ear as he slid not one, but two fingers into your wet cunt. You whimpered and moaned, feeling his long fingers moving and curling inside you. Miami kissed you again, hot and messy, still towering over you and as soon as his lips left yours, he left kisses all over your neck, collarbone, cleavage. His free hand pulled your top up, exposing your tits which he quickly pulled out of your bra one after another.Miami continued to fuck his fingers inside you, squeezing your sensitive breast as he start to swirl his tongue against your nipple. 

"A-ah... R-Rick, daddy..."

The pet name made him suck harder, his body responding in ways you honestly always imagined about, although you never knew this would actually happen. You bite your lip, feeling your pussy tighten around his fingers. 

“You make me go fucking–fucking feral, baby.”

You whimper, feeling a pressure build up in you as he thrusted his fingers, continuing to suck your nipples and bite them ever so softly, moving his attention from tit to tit. He looked at you, fucking you with his fingers, stretching you out perfectly as you moan, your walls clenching around the intrusive fingers inside you.

"You're so cute like this, sweetheart. Moaning like a lil’ slut."

Without a warning his fingers left your leaking cunt and he took a step back. Your knees were weak, trembling even.

“Got on top of the table, baby, d-daddy’s gonna fuck you real good now.”

His wish (and also yours) was your command. You sat on the table in the middle of the room, anxiously waiting for Miami Rick, who followed you promptly. While you were getting ontop of the table, Miami unbuckled his pants and swiftly pulled his cock out. There was no time for all that taking clothes off. He needed you badly and he needed you now.

With purposeful strides, Miami crossed the room, his posture exuding confidence and authority. As he approached the table where you sat, his presence commanded attention, you couldn’t decide between staring at his face or his enormous cock. He took his place exactly between your legs.

“Good girl”, he grabbed his cock, slapping it against your still covered pussy. Miami couldn’t help snicker as he saw the wet spot on your thong, “Guess you liked it a lot. You’ll like this even more.”

His other hand pushed your thong to the side so that his tip could press against your entrance. Was he teasing you or himself?

“Fuck me already, please!”

“Needy lil’ whore.”

And with that he rammed himself into your soaking pussy, your walls tightening around him as he stretched you out. It hurt yet felt so fucking good. You screamed his name the same time he entered you and you felt yourself falling back against the table. Not a second passed before Miami started to thrust into you like a wild animal, succumbing to the intense hunger he felt the whole time.

“You like that? My cock buried deep inside your–your guts, huh? Fuck, you’re so…so fucking tight, baby.”

You were already a moaning mess even though you knew this was just the beginning.

“You think I didn’t see your short skirt and all the Ricks fucking staring at your de–delicious thighs, I wanted to destroy your pulsing cunt in the middle of that fucking bar right then and there.”

He pounded you even deeper and harder, hitting your g-spot every thrust. You felt your cunt clench on his cock.

“Wow it’s been five fucking minutes you fucking whore, already gone dumb on–on my cock now, such a slutty sight”, he growled as he continued to pound into you at an almost inhumane pace. His gold chain dangled in your face as bend over you to hit you even deeper and fuck, he really managed it. His cock was kissing your cervix, over and over again. It was too much, too good.

Whimpering you reached out, trying to push him away. If he didn’t stop you would cum too so–

“Move your fucking hand.”

His voice was just as rough as his thrusts. Your action riled him up even more. He wanted to ruin you, ruin that pretty cunt of yours, make you crazy over his cock. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you out as his other hand pushed two fingers into your mouth.

“Fuck! You’re fucking squeezing me. You want me to treat you like this, don’t you? I can feel–feel your pussy vibrate around me.”

He was right. You loved it. You loved him fucking you as if you were his personal cocksleeve. Him choking you, calling you a slut, his balls slapping against you as he kisses your cervix – that’s why you denied him sex for so long, to make him lose his senses when he finally gets to. Now you were the one losing it though.

“Yes! Ah, yes! I-I love it, daddy!”

Every thrust of his hips drove his cock deep into your pussy, the spot inside of you that makes you shake and tremble deliciously grinded into. 

Your orgasm hit you, it’s sudden and so fucking good that you’re reduced to nothing but a whiny litany of Daddy Daddy Daddy and please please please.

Miami feels himself getting close, too. He gets sloppier but not less rough or deep as he continued to ram inside you. 

Rick’s hand that had previously been gripping her throat moved to on top of the table to steady himself while the other snaked around your front to rub harsh and fast circles over your already sensitive clit. His fingers were in perfect time with his strokes, your head falling to the side and your eyes rolling back at the stimulation.

“My slutty lil’ barkeeper”, Miami groaned while snapping his hips upwards, the tip of his cock never stopped kissing your sensitive cervix.

“You like being fucked like a whore, princess?” he asked, you were only able to give him an enthusiastic nod since words seemed to be completely out of the question at this point.

“Yeah, I know you do. You’re practically sucking–sucking me in…Fuck”

“D-daddy! I’m gonna cum—” your words were cut off by the moan tearing from your throat and Miami’s fingers moving faster on your clit. “Please, can I? Please, need it so bad!”

“Do it,” he ordered, dipping his head down to bite the junction of your neck and shoulder. “Fucking soak me, princess. Do it.”

The slight pain of his bite and the blinding pleasure of him fucking into you made you lose what little control you still had, and before you knew it, you were cumming violently around Miami. Your cunt squeezed and clenched around him. You felt a rush of fluid gush between your legs as Miami kept going, so close to his release that you could feel him shaking. One, two, three, four thrusts was all it took before he was following you into orgasmic ecstasy. 

He threw his head back, eyes clenched shut as the muscles of his torso tensed and slackened rapidly. You could feel his warm release fill you up and run down your leg as he thrusted a few more times on the comedown. You were still in a daze as he pulled out but a tiny whimper still left you at the sudden empty feeling. As if every nerve ending in your body was on fire, your mind focused on the sticky feeling of your mixed fluids between your thighs while Rick let you calm down on the table. Rick tugged his pants up and tucked his now soft cock away.

“That was amazing, baby”, he was still slightly out of breath yet he walked to where your head was lying and bent down, planting a soft kiss on your temple, “Take all the time you need to–to recover from that. Not too long though. Customers are waiting.”

“…are you going to leave me here alone?”

“I may be a Rick but I’m not that much of an asshole, baby.”

Your eyes followed him as grabbed a nearby chair and sat down. He knew his way around women and he knew how important aftercare was. Another kiss was left on your skin, this time your cheek.

“Don’t worry, princess, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well, can you clean me up then please?”

“Nuh uh, baby, I want you working behind that bar with my cum running down your sexy thighs.”

[niki-phoria]

YOU'RE MY ONLY LOVE FROM HEAVEN

pairing: non idol!yeonjun x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 789

includes: mentions of studying, yeonjun is a little cocky, written with a jock x nerd dynamic in mind but it doesn't really come through lol

“you’re staring.” you just barely catch the mischievous glint in yeonjun’s eyes when he meets your gaze. his lips curl into a teasing smirk as he props face against his hand. 

“you’re handsome,” you retort. the flicker of surprise that flashes across his face fills you with pride. everything about yeonjun drips with confidence - from the relaxed way his eyes scan your expression to the compliments that leave his lips with ease - which only makes it all the more satisfying in those rare moments when you’re able to fluster him. 

he’s smiling now, absentmindedly pushing a hand through his hair as he chuckles. with his bangs pushed back, even if only slightly, you’re fully able to see his features. there’s a barely noticeable pink tint on his plump lips. despite the eyebags you can see lingering underneath his eyes, you’ve never heard a complaint dare to escape his lips. 

the report you were supposed to be writing is all but forgotten when yeonjun leans a little closer. the space separating you is somehow simultaneously too much and too little. he’s close enough for you to touch, but not enough to feel. it’s infuriating. and, even worse, yeonjun knows it.

“is your flirting always this bold?” 

you cock your head at him in mock confusion, glancing back down at your still-open textbook in a poor attempt to return to your studying. “who said i was flirting?”

yeonjun only offers a soft hum in response. a momentary silence falls over the room. for a second, the only noise you can hear is the soft ticking of a lonely clock hanging on the wall, reminding you of how little time you have to finish your work. 

unfortunately, your peace doesn’t last for long. 

the chair beside you achingly scrapes against the floor before yeonjun slides into the seat beside you. his knees knock against your own as he dramatically opens his books, flipping mindlessly through the pages before he settles on his destination with a satisfied hum. “what did you get for number seven?”

the question is so innocuous it almost catches you off guard at first. you wait for a second, waiting for a snarky remark that never comes. “twelve.” 

“thanks.”

when you turn to glance at yeonjun again, you’re almost shocked to see him already staring at you. it shouldn’t fluster you nearly as much as it does. he softly smiles, reaching over to push a stray strand of hair out of your face. “choi,” you do your best to sound intimidating, though you can even hear the way your words falter. his fingers trail along your jawline before finally settling against your cheek; his thumb gently brushes against your cheek.

“y/n,” he murmurs. yeonjun’s gaze lowers to stare at your lips before he meets your eyes once again. his touch feels like it’s igniting fires against your skin. “is this okay?”

you manage a simple nod in response. yeonjun smiles softly in return. you’re half expecting him to pull away, return to his playful teasing and maybe copy down a few of your answers onto his own paper. but he doesn’t. 

instead, he leans in a little closer. your heartbeat is even faster than before. you feel hyper-aware of everything around you: yeonjun’s hand still resting against your cheek, the limited distance between your bodies, the way his gaze lingers on your lips for just a little too long. 

yeonjun stops when there are still a few centimeters between your faces. there’s enough space for you to pull away - to turn back to your work and pretend like this never happened. to go back to the way it was before. 

but you don’t. you don’t want to.

his lips part slightly. you’re not sure what he’s about to say. 

your body moves faster than your mind. tentatively, you press your lips against yeonjun’s. a second passes before he reacts. and then, you both decide there’s no going back now. 

yeonjun’s lips are soft against your own. they smell faintly of mint - so light it’s barely there. your bodies mold together perfectly. 

yeonjun’s cheeks are dusted a light pink when you pull away. the sight makes you chuckle quietly to yourself. “oh, wait,” you freeze when yeonjun reaches over, carefully pulling a stray eyelash off of your cheek. 

you can feel heat spreading throughout your entire body. your heart races in your chest. you’ve never felt like this before. or at least, you’ve never noticed it before. 

yeonjun smiles as he rests the thin strand of hair on his finger, holding it up towards you. “make a wish.” 

despite yourself, you chuckle softly, closing your eyes before you gently blow it away. i wish to feel like this forever.

notes: my apologies for the lack of fics, my motivation has been HORRIBLE lately <//3 not proofread, so pls forgive any mistakes !!

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my txt materlist <33

[thus-wrote-mrs-zeppeli]

Various jjba characters in: attractive traits/things they do

Warnings/content: Very thirsty but nothing directly explicit, in Dio’s reader compared to a pet, so power imbalance but only in Dio’s

MDNI

(This has been on my A03 for a while but I’ve been too embarrassed to post it here lol-)

Characters: Joseph Joestar, Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli, Dio, Rohan Kishibe, Yoshikage Kira, Bruno Bucciarati, Leone Abbacchio

Joseph Joestar: That overwhelming confidence and playful demeanor is so hot, but if you had to say one specific thing he does that’ll always, ALWAYS be hot…

He does this thing where he rolls his shoulders, whether he’s stretching, or just showing off…and it’s irresistible. He definitely does it on purpose around you. He KNOWS it gets a reaction out of you, even when you don’t show it.

He’s very aware of how you feel about him, and he does love attention so…he’ll do it to tease and fluster you, or to keep your eyes on him. Combining his shoulder rolls with his bold flirts…and soon enough you’re a flustered mess for him, he loves that he can make you shy with just a few words and a simple stretch. He knows he’s hot and he Loves flaunting it and he Especially loves flirting with you.

Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli: Maybe it’s a bit silly but his irresistible hotness comes from his classic romantic gestures and words. You can’t help but swoon at every word and every gentlemanly act. Opening doors for you, pulling out your chairs, throwing eloquent compliments at you like confetti.

The hottest thing he does though? Well. A personal favorite has to be the way he’ll gently tug your hand to his soft lips, and plant kisses along your inner wrist, trailing up your arm a bit, and sometimes when he’s feeling playful he’ll give you a gentle nip. You’d never expect it from such a proper gentleman like him, but Caesar can be SO needy and clingy towards you. Expect many casual touches; and emotional, passionate touches. It’s commonplace for Caesar to hug you from behind and bury his face in your shoulder and murmur something about how he never wanted to let you go, and he wasn’t even half-joking.

This man wishes he could keep your heart with him always, cherishing and protecting it every second of his life, and he could show you his boundless love until his final breath.

Dio: There’s like a myriad of hot things Dio does, but some of his best moments is when he’s really expressing that God-like confidence. One of your personal favorites probably has to be when he just goes shirtless while he’s going about his routine in the mansion.

It’s just unbelievably sexy…a large, muscular man…shirtless and reading a book while sipping a glass of wine…you can’t help but lose yourself a bit.

Your favorite moment has to be when he’s lounging on the bed with a book in one hand, you lying on his lap, and him tracing his fingers of his free hand along your shoulders and back, almost like he was stroking a pet. It’s so…deliberate. He deliberately acts like he’s doing it absentmindedly. And when he does take his fingers away from your skin, you suppress a whimper from that sudden feeling that almost resembled rejection.

He just needed his hand for a second to take a sip of his wine. Shortly afterwards, black nails are tracing your skin again, and the brush of his skin against yours feels so pleasantly warm you move with the sensation, squirming in an attempt to get more of that feeling. He lifts his hand away from you for a brief moment.

“Hold still, dear…you’re being distracting.”

His voice has an undeniable authority, and no real irritation, just a sort of amusement that you’re this desperate for something as simple as a light touch.

Rohan Kishibe: Nothing Rohan does is hot (targeted attack against a personal favorite character). Ok just. Hear me out on this. Rohan has a couple of hot moments, but the two that come to mind are his eccentric personality traits and his body language when he’s relaxed or being deliberate.

There’s something oddly hot about that demeanor of his. He was arrogant, and in a way…self-centered, often having little regard for proper common courtesy or rules. His fickle temper was fun sometimes though. He’s cute to fluster and tease and play with, occasionally, until he gets too emotional and instead decides to lock himself in his studio so he can escape you. You can hear him pacing around in there while he mutters to himself, trying to figure out what the heck got into you to act like that. If he uses Heaven’s Door on you he’ll see that you just think he’s hot when he’s emotional or acting a bit “dramatic” as you’d say it. Well. He finds that kinda embarrassing, to be honest.

Another appeal is even though his outfits might be a little flashy for your taste…they sure do compliment his most attractive physical features. His open shoulder shirts and/or crop top shirts are especially flattering. He’s toned and lean with a slightly smaller build than most of the other characters, and you wonder if he knows just how effective the way he dresses is in accentuating his pretty shoulders and waist. You really can’t tell, because he complains when you give him attention for the way he dresses by kissing his shoulders or grabbing his waist, but if you don’t say or do anything at all in response he gets a little bitter and passive aggressive and will change how he dresses until you say something about it.

Yoshikage Kira: H-Hear me out. This is literally the only thing I could think of for him-

He can cook. You can’t help but think it’s kinda hot, watching him cook for the two of you. You like standing in the kitchen, out of the way, but watching him closely. He rolls up his sleeves when he cooks, and you must admit you enjoy the sight of his bare forearms while he works.

And he doesn’t really like cooking WITH you, since he has a system and adding someone else to the equation complicates things, so it works out pretty well…you can just watch the handsome man work, and then suddenly you’ll have food to eat. It’s a great arrangement.

Bruno Bucciarati: In risk of sounding crazy, I’m gonna say his hot trait is his tone of voice. He always talks with a sort of unshakable authority so casually you wonder if it’s just natural for him. And it’s kinda hot, he sounds so…in charge and confident, and when he actually exerts his authority by intentionally raising his voice and putting some force behind it…It’s hard not to feel a little excited.

He doesn’t boss you around or misuse the power of his position, but honestly you feel like you could be convinced of a lot of things if it was Bruno telling you.

He doesn’t quite get it at first when even just the sound of his voice gets you going but when he figures it out…he thinks it’s flattering, even though he doesn’t really see the appeal since most of the time he gets told his tone makes him sound like a strict mom.

But you love his voice! Especially because you know that tone usually comes from a place of concern. There’s rarely ever any real anger in his voice, and you know you can always trust him, so you don’t shy away from crushing on even the sound of his voice.

Leone Abbacchio: Manspreading. Just Something about how he does it…usually not even meaning to take up as much space as he does but…he looks good with his arms on the back of the couch, legs spread, his head leaned back, making himself comfortable.

Sometimes you tease him, and doing so might result in him making a point of stretching himself out even further, and if he’s in a good enough mood he’ll pat his thigh to invite you to sit on his leg.

Go ahead if you want, but you’re walking right into a trap. Sit on Leone’s lap after teasing him and you’ll find it’s his turn to taunt you.

He’ll sneakily slip his fingers against areas he knows you’re especially ticklish in, so you end up squealing and writhing on his lap, making an adorable fool of yourself.

-

I think it might be apparent I just really wanted to talk about Bruno. And I think I totally got distracted while writing Dio and Rohan-

Wanted to put this out because I have another part in the works haha-

[jogetsobsessed]

Not Strong Enough - Paul Lahote

This is so rushed and you can tell lol. I started this months ago, last summer. Also I hate writing dialogue and this is basically all that so yay for Jo!

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

“ I know you're awake Y/n”. His voice cut through the silence of the night. 

You didn't stir. You were trying to keep your breath even, praying that he would roll over and go back to sleep. He didn't need to be bothered with the late-night demons you were fighting. He had so much that he was dealing with when it came to the pack, Sam has given him more responsibility in the past few months. You knew it was weighing on him but he never complained not wanting to burden you, even when you begged him to vent to you. Seeing him bottle his emotions only caused you to feel more emotional at the thought of him being sad and feeling like he couldn't talk to you. 

“Y/n you're not fooling me love”. He reached out and turned his lamp on before rolling over to face you. Still, you didn't move. 

Embarrassment flushed your cheeks and tears threatened to spill as you attempted to blink them away. Rubbing at your eyes to cover up the evidence of your dejected attitude. Even though Paul was quite literally watching your every move. 

“What's wrong?”. 

“I don't know what you're talking about Paul, you woke me up with your booming voice”. 

He opened his mouth to retort what you said but stopped. Pausing to tilt his head to the side, much like a dog does when watching in anticipation. His eyes scanned your body, up and down as he tried to figure out if something was physically wrong with you. When he couldn't find anything wrong his eyes traveled to yours, locking in place. You just blinked, not wanting to budge. 

“Y/n I love you, and I have loved you since I first met you. I know you. I know everything about you. Like how you always take a gasping gulp of air right before you fall asleep or how after you have been asleep for a little while you start to snore a little bit, not too loud but enough for me to hear. It's something I love, it soothes me. So yes, I know that you weren't sleeping”. 

That was enough to break the dam. 

Tears came out in droves as you bawled, burying your head in your hands. Paul acted in no time, immediately shifting to sit up, pulling you into his chest cradling your head as you sobbed. Fear was pulsing through his veins as he watched your chest heave up and down, gasping to catch your breath. His hand that wasn't holding your head rubbing small circles on your arm, attempting to provide comfort. 

Slowly your tears came to a sputtering stop as you were able to fill your lungs up with enough air to begin to calm down. His hand didn't stop, because he was right with what he said earlier, he knew you. His grounding touch in your moment of panic was one of, if not the only thing that could bring you back to reality. 

You turn your head up. Lifting it from his chest to gaze up at him. 

His face shone with pure love and admiration as he gazed down at you. The hand that had clutched your head moved to your face, his thumb wiping away the stray tears that had yet to cascade down your cheeks slightly puffy from your outburst. His lips softly pressed against your forehead, lingering as he felt you relax under his touch. You shifted again, this time turning so you could lean your head on his shoulder, your legs dangling off his lap. 

“So how are you going to tell me what's going on?”. 

“I'm scared”. 

You felt his body tense under your words. The sudden onset of anxiety filled the dimly lit room. 

“What do you have to be scared of?”. His voice was calm but the way his grip tightened around you was another indicator of his sudden mood change. 

“Becoming a mom, not being strong enough”. 

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

You knew it was silly. 

To let this fear consume you. It's not like the idea of becoming a mom was new. You have spent the past eight months preparing for your upcoming life change. Outwardly you put on a confident front. Accepting the advice your friends and random strangers alike gave you unsolicited advice. Spending hours upon hours shopping with Emily and Kim, letting some of the tribe elders teach you how to crochet different styles of blankets for your new upcoming arrival. Learning about the teas made up of all different herbs that were supposed to aid in various pregnancy symptoms like nausea and sciatic nerve pain. You took in all of it. 

But inside you weren't handling everything as well. 

No one wanted to talk about the fears that you were harboring. No one wanted to talk about what had happened to Emily during the birth of her and Sam’s first. About how she almost lost her life because of the blood loss, because children born from the wives of the shifters were larger than ones born to human fathers. About how Sam’s screams could be heard miles away as the healers tried to push him out of the room, away from his dying wife. About how that could happen to you. 

No one wanted to talk about how you could die. 

So every night for the past few weeks as your due date was nearing closer you let yourself think of the possibility, the possibility of your mortality. 

Normally you were able to suppress it enough to fall asleep shortly after Paul. But tonight was different. 

After a day spent in Forks going to get an ultrasound and then to the healers on the reservation, you had heard someone address the possibility of complications. The talk you got from them was different, seeing as the doctors in Forks didn't know about the lineage of your husband, and his genetic abnormalities that could and probably would affect your child's birth. 

Paul had remained stoic throughout trying his best to comfort you without showing any weakness. No matter how much you tried to drill it through his thick skull showing emotion didn't make him weak he didn't budge, that was going to be a lifelong battle. 

But their words had hit you hard, the fears you had been struggling with by yourself in silence were finally being brought to light, and someone wanted to talk about them. And you had gone through all the different possibilities, all the complications, and their varying outcomes. 

And that was why you had remained awake tonight. 

Your fears were fighting off the exhaustion you felt, as your mind was on fire. Paul hadn't brought anything up, other than commenting on how big your baby was getting and about running up north to Port Angeles this weekend to pick up the last piece of furniture for the nursery. It was typical of him not wanting to bring up the things hard to talk about. And you didn't want to fight, not after such an exhausting day so you said nothing, opting for silence. 

Paul didn't know what to say, no amount of circles against your arm could provide comfort in this moment. He couldn't simply solve this problem with his touch. 

“What are you talking about, my love?”. 

“Oh come on Paul, you're telling me you aren't scared. After everything we talked about today. The possibility of me die…”. 

“Please don't Y/n”. His voice broke as he closed his eyes pulling you impossibly tight. Normally you would stop, but not tonight. No, you couldn't bottle your emotions anymore. 

“Paul, we have to talk about it. Please, I can't do this anymore. I am so scared. Paul I'm terrified about what could happen, what if I can't do this. What if I'm not strong enough to go through labor”. Part of you was proud of yourself for fighting back your tears. 

His silence was concerning. But it didn't last long. 

“My sweet girl I want to tell you that there's nothing for you to be afraid of but I think we both know that unfortunately, that's not true. However, you're stressing yourself out over something that has a very small chance of happening -”. 

“But it happened to Emily!”, you cried out cutting him off. 

That hit him hard. 

The pack had to experience the pain that Sam had felt years ago. Feeling what was causing their Alpha to crumble to pieces, to be reduced to tears as he begged someone, anyone, to help his imprint.  

And Paul had never forgotten that feeling, the look on Sam’s face. So when you had broken the news to him, told him that he was going to be a dad he panicked. He had felt the same feelings that you were feeling now but as the months went on he pushed them down. Choosing to focus on the happier things in your pregnancy, accidentally ignoring everything that was bothering you. 

Though hearing you now he had realized he messed up. 

“Y/n what happened to Emily…it was horrible. But look at her now, she is a wonderful mother to three beautiful children. Her second and third deliveries went off without a hitch, you know this”. 

“But I'm not like Emily, she's survived so much. She's invincible”, your lip was wobbling now. 

“You are the strongest woman I have ever met, Y/N. I have complete and total faith in you. I know that you can do it”. His hands were resting on your bump, your child seeming to sense their dad's presence kicking against his palm. 

“Really?”, you sniffled, a small weight lifting off your shoulders. It felt good to have this hard conversation. You knew there was so much you needed to talk about, but the bulk of it could be had in the morning, once daylight was streaming through the sheer curtains.  “You are strong enough”

[modern-gremlin]

All of You | Lance - SDVE (Stardew Valley Expanded) MDNI. 🔞

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Pairing: Lance (SDVE) x f!reader Word Count: 6,334 (whew...) Warnings: Smut (basically porn with plot lol), talks of rough sex Tags: Established relationship, oral (male + female receiving), rough sex, creampie, little bit of fluff

SYNOPSIS Lance wants to have get rough in bed but doesn't want to take it too far, not until you give him permission to. A/N: Y'all, this is my first fanfic and of course I did smut as my first. :')) I’d appreciate feedback bc I wanna get better, but please be nice (im fragile) Listen, when I first played Stardew Valley Expanded, I KNEW I was just down bad for Lance. I absolutely simp for those pixels. This turned out to be WAY longer than I anticipated but oh well, I think I like how it is. Also, thank you so much @neet-elite for responding with writing tips. Your response really gave me the inspiration to just get up and write something I like. I appreciate you!

Before you knew it, you were getting railed harder than you've ever been railed in your life — let alone from your usually sweet and slow, doting boyfriend. It was only a week ago that you even broached the subject of rough sex; the culmination of late-evening pillow talk. Sex with Lance wasn't dissatisfying, in fact, it was probably the best you've ever had, you think to yourself. He is simply good at everything he ever attempts, and sexual endeavors would be no different.

Lance has a way of making you become undone. Planting kisses on your neck, trailing down your body until he reaches the wet spot between your thighs. Then he gauges your reaction; studies the way you pant heavier in anticipation, whine and shuffle your hips closer to his face until you're practically begging him to drown in you. Only then will he go in for the plunge. Lapping up your wetness like he's starved, lightly humming as he licks your clit. He slowly teases your wet cunt with his calloused fingers before shoving them deep into the part that makes you see stars. He always has to have you cumming at least twice before he even thinks about getting himself off. That's the way Lance is, that's just his routine.

You love that about him, always selfless and he always thinks about you first. It's a rare brand of kindness you don't often see in others, but he's particularly and lovingly considerate of you. It does, however, leave you wondering how you can be considerate of him. You hate to be a skeptic, but his kindness makes you wonder if he sacrifice his own needs to prioritize yours. It's something you've seen all too often, but Lance is never the type to complain, not explicitly at least. After finally getting together a year ago, you've learned a lot of his little mannerisms. His eyebrows cross slightly when he's confused, his shoulders tense to a specific position when he's stressed. Learning his habits gives you a sense of comfort and domesticity. So, you've taken from his playbook and began to study his reactions, and it was through this you've discovered something in particular.

Likely a result of his training, he never acts out of turn. Always the gentleman, he lets you set the pace and only lays his hands on you when you give explicit permission. This surprises you a little, honestly. While he's never been foolhardy, he always struck you as unwaveringly confident; an incredible flirt. He's a man who trusts his instincts and he's hardly every wrong in trusting them. So when he looks at you longingly, waiting for your permission to ravish you with his hands, clearly eager but hesitant, it's a little unexpected.

He always reassures you that he enjoys having sex with you when you ask, which is almost good enough to fool you. Clearly, you can see he enjoys it by his eagerness to go for another round and how easy it is for you to get him hard again. But something in the pained look on his face, maybe the furrow of his eyebrows or the regimented movements of his thrusts, makes you feel like there's something wrong.

These kind of thoughts have a funny way of eating away at you. And this thought in particular has been eating at you for a while now, until your worries spills out of you one night you've decided to keep him company at the Outpost. After exhausting scouting days, you've made a habit of keeping Lance company through his night watch duties. Though, you're likely more of a distraction than an aid but he doesn't mind it all. Nestling close to you in bed makes the cold stone walls of the tower feel like home, a concept he had a hard time defining until he met you. You find the same comfort in him, so naturally, your inner thoughts aren't kept secret from him for long.

"Lance?" you ask as sweetly as you can muster in spite of the obvious pit in your stomach. You wait for his response, counting the stone slabs across the ceiling while lying on his linen sheets. "Yes, my love?" he replies in reassuring tone — he's all too familiar with your anxious tells, though you're not sure what gave it away this time. "I want you to answer me honestly, even if it's not what I want to hear. I just genuinely want to know." You were just filled with so many questions, which soon turn into (rather irrational) assumptions. Maybe he's secretly unsatisfied with your relationship. Maybe there was something you did to upset him that you were unaware of. Just questions, questions, and more questions.

Despite quickly becoming his closest confidant since you've met him at the Caldura, it still feels like there's an air of mystery around Lance. He keeps his cards close to his chest, most likely for your own good. He lives a life of danger, and he doesn't want you in the crosshairs. But truly, you don't care. You're hopelessly in love with him. You'd rather dive head first into his life and be beside him, no matter where he stands. Besides, it's not like you're a stranger to the perils of adventuring yourself.

Your thoughts race fast as ever, and before you can go down another mental tangent, he does as he always does and brings you back to earth. "Of course. You have my word." He places his hand to your face and strokes your cheek with his thumb. "Ask away.” A weak smile forms on his face in an attempt to encourage you. "Are you...happy with me?" you feel your shoulders tense at your own question. He looks at you incredulously, mouth open, prepared to assure you, "You make me so happy, I mean i--" "It's...not that I don't believe you when you say that. In fact, I mean more like... are you s-satisfied with me?" you ask sheepishly. He furrows his eyebrows slightly, thinking of a way to ask you to clarify. "If you don't mean satisfied in happiness, what do you mean? Satisfied, in what way?" His question is earnest and borne from genuine curiosity, but it still makes you nervous to elaborate further. You fiddle with your fingers until you speak up once more.

"As in...sexually? I figure you enjoy it at least a little, otherwise I'd imagine you wouldn't be so eager to have sex with me as much as we do. But I have this feeling that maybe, you're holding back in some way? And if so, am I doing anything wrong?" You scan for answers within his purple eyes, but before long you're distracted by the way his face is illuminated by the dim lamplight. He truly is a beautiful man. If it weren't for the way you stare at him admiringly, you wouldn't have noticed the flush form over his tan skin. "N-no. I promise you, you have done nothing wrong. You are such a light in my life and I never want to take what we have for granted." He reaches to grab both of your hands and cups them between his own. "It's just — I have…rather-" Uncharacteristically, he stumbles over his words. It's your turn to reassure him now. You bring his hands to your cheek, your hands still cupped within his. "You can tell me."

He folds at your sincerity. "Well, sex with you is...fantastic. Truly." he states as the flush on his face deepens. "It might be selfish of me, but I love that there is a side of you only I can bring out. A part of you that is mine and mine alone." He looks into the distance, smiling lightly at memories of your earlier trysts. His words trail for a moment as he tries to collect his thoughts until you bring him back to focus.

"But...?" you gesture. He sighs deeply then continues your train of thought, "But there is... something. It's not dissatisfaction; not at all. It's more like... restraint." "Restraint?" You issue back.

He adjusts himself to sit upright against the headrest of the bed. "I've always been warned to be aware of my strength in my training. Whether it be in magic or in combat... Control is key. Otherwise you risk unnecessary danger. It's an ingrained rule when you're a member of the First Slash." His eyes dart towards to you, gauging whether or not you understand where the conversation leads. You shift yourself up to match his position against the headrest and look back at him curiously, which prompts him to continue.

"When I'm with you, I feel myself losing that control. I feel this need to completely... consume you. I don't want to hurt you or be selfish in any way. I hoped it wouldn't be so obvious, but I should know better than to think anything gets past you." He huffs a breathy laugh and gently places a comforting hand upon your thigh. You take a moment to take in his words before feeling profound sense of relief. You're relieved that his restraint isn't from something wrong you're doing, rather, it's about what you're doing right.

"So, what you're saying is...I didn't do anything to bother you then?" you ask, looking for confirmation. "No, far from it. Simply put, you drive me crazy in the best of ways." He lets out a light laugh to conceal a relieved sigh; as if a weight has been lifted from his admission. "Simply put, you want to go rougher on me? Is that it?" you retort back cheekily, mimicking his earlier tone. He laughs a bit louder this time, his thumb gently traces up and down movements against your thigh. In a teasing tone, you press him further on the matter, "Hmmm, I'll take your silence as a 'yes', then." You enjoy playfully pushing his buttons from time to time, but you genuinely to know what's on his mind. The flush on his face returns when he gives you a simple nod. A bashful Lance is a rare sight, so you can't help but grin at how coy he's being.

Clearing his throat to continue, "That being said, I don't want to hurt you. Ever. I don't think I would, but I-" "Let's do it, I know you won't hurt me," you say while interrupting his train of thought. Your eagerness causes his eyes to widen, slightly moving his hands to cover his erection that grows from your words. You're usually the one to be flustered by his brazenness, so you take much satisfaction at how the tables have turned this time. Your agreement clearly has him a little riled up, but he's doing as you observed again: he's eager but hesitant. You move yourself closer into him, prodding him to make a move. Swallowing thickly, he clears his throat to finish his thought, "I just... wonder if maybe I do lose control, I'll reveal a side of me that you're not familiar with. I don't... want to show you a side of me you didn't sign up for." His smile is a little more nervous now, but as he tries to avert his face from yours, you catch his chin and face him towards you. You drop your teasing tone and look into his eyes; you need him to know you mean what you’re about to say wholeheartedly. “Lance, you don't need to hold back from me. I've signed up for all of you. I mean it."

For a moment he just stares at you with the utmost love and admiration. He thinks himself to be one of the luckiest people in the world, lucky enough to have the privilege of loving someone entirely and have that love be returned. This admiration of you slowly turns into desire as he takes in the weight of your words. "All of me, hm?" He slyly retorts with a hum and half-lidded eyes. Staring at your lips, he leans in for a kiss. You press back at him, mouth open to take his bottom lip lightly within your teeth. The delicious sting on his lips causes him to moan into your mouth. His hands trail down your arms toward your waist, pulling you closer to meet the warmth of his chest.

Everything about him is intoxicating to you. The rumble of his voice, the smell of cedar and incense on his clothes, his familiar touch are all equal parts comforting as they are arousing. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss before pulling away. Looking into his eyes once more, forehead pressed to his, you give him an answer that quells his fears, "Yes. All of you."

The night's anxieties slowly dissipate with every touch you lay on each other. Both of your hands desperately trail each other's bodies; desperate to unearth any secrets left between you. Lance finds grip upon your waist to move you on top of him and you eagerly oblige. Your chest presses against his while you savor the taste of his lips, straddling the already-hard bulge beneath you. Every dive into each other's lips grinds you ever so slightly against his clothed cock, causing him to furrow his eyebrows and moan into your mouth. His moans are like an invitation for you to continue, the kind of invitation you’d never refuse. You grind your hips against his length, wetness from both your slick and his precum seeping through the clothes that separate you. In this moment, you could swear he’s Yoba themself by the way you pant and moan his name over and over again like a prayer. The friction of your dripping pussy rubbing his cock is so deliciously arousing, you nearly get lost in the feeling. But while you're in your lustful daze, Lance swiftly rolls your onto your back to assume his position over you.

His sapphire eyes now stare directly into yours, but this time they're darker. Almost wild, like an animal in heat. The sheer look of complete desire in his eyes causes you to bite your lip in excitement. He stands over you, breathing heavily. There’s that hesitation again, you think to yourself. You can just barely see him ease out of his intense gaze, only for a moment to gain enough composure. "By the gods, you're driving me crazy. Are you sure absolutely sure about this? You must tell me if I'm going too far," he says through ragged breath. You prop yourself up by the elbows to land a kiss on his lips again. "I will tell you if you're going too far. But I know you won't hurt me, I trust you."

You lean yourself flat against the bed once more and you unbutton the top of your blouse, revealing the lacy bra that's hidden beneath. You return a similar gaze back at him, staring intensely into his eyes, hoping to reignite the fire within them. His heart is beating out of his chest and he swears you can hear it, based on how your breathing is perfectly in rhythm to his. You desperately want make every part of him yours, and all of you, his. And your body responds to this want before your brain could keep up. Like a primal need that came to the surface, you instinctively press the front of your wrists together and obediently offer them towards him. “I want all of you, Lance. Make me yours."

This was the coup de grace; the spell that lifted the seal on whatever was left of his self-control. With one hand, he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head. The other holds your face in place for him to land a devastating kiss, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth. The intensity of his movements makes your skin tingle, sensitive to every touch. His weight above you is both comforting and restraining; he’s holding you down as if you’d float away the moment he lets go. Kissing you like he wants to devour you whole, sucking the air out of your lungs until you’re lightheaded under him. You’re already so love drunk that your eyes close, allowing you to sink into the pleasure. Suddenly he pulls away to cusp your face again as a way to grab your attention. “No, no, look at me. Keep your eyes on me.” His sudden movements shock your eyes wide open to meet that same, animalistic gaze. He wants you so badly, there’s no doubt in your mind. The thought makes you smile at him, catching your bottom lip with your teeth.

He takes deep satisfaction in the shift in your facial expression. “You’re so perfect. So good to me,” he says with a mixture of pure love and pure lust in his tone. His speech is low and drawn out now, still holding your face in his free hand. “So good. So obedient.” He frees your wrists and slowly trails your neck with his mouth, leaving marks wherever visible, hoping to deliver on his promise of claiming you as his. His prize, his woman, his pretty little slut, and his wife if you let him.

He continues to plant spots of red across your chest until he’s stopped by the collar of your shirt, slightly unbuttoned from your earlier display. He claws at the buttons frantically to get it off of you as soon as possible. His movements are uncharacteristically imprecise, so much to the point he resorts to ripping the buttons off in his fervor. You’ll have to worry about your shirt later, but for now, you’re much too aroused by his desperation to care. You help him unhook the clasps of your bra and he discards it behind him. Finally, your breasts were freed and his for the taking.

Without hesitation, he grasps both of your breasts in each of his hands, grazing his thumbs over the sensitive peaks. You throw your head back and whine from the sudden stimulation only to be put over the edge by the sensation of his mouth lightly biting at your nipple. His tongue flicks and circles at your bud erratically. The sensation sends jolts through your body causing you to instinctually pull away. Before you can move, he catches you by your shoulder and holds you in place. “L-Lance,” his name escapes your mouth in an elongated moan as you’re overwhelmed by his tongue. “Stay put for me, love. Can’t let you get away.” He turns his attention to you other breast, licking and sucking on the bud while gently pinching the other with his thumb and index.

He only pulls away to free himself from his uniform. With a swift tug, he removes his top to reveal his muscular body. His skin looks beautiful in this light, smooth but adorned by light scars from his years of combat. You let out a deep sigh from the sight; it feels like you’re seeing him naked for the first time. You’ve seen it so many times before, but tonight his body was so painfully, incredibly sexy to you.

He isn’t faring so well himself. The act of taking his shirt off gave him just enough distance to soak in the full sight of you. Already with a lust-struck expression, huffing and panting from just teasing you, covered in marks he just freshly laid upon you. This sight alone is enough to make him nearly feral, he practically has to fight for his life to not immediately shove his throbbing cock deep inside you. He’s holding back, but not from fear this time. His concealed fantasies cloud his mind; the thought of ruining you, plowing into you so hard that his cock is the only thing you remember, and filling your perfect cunt to the brim with his seed. He’s determined to bring the love of his life down to the same level of depravity he secretly harbored since the day he first met you, and to do that, he needed to be patient. Even if his cock is begging to be buried to the hilt inside you.

Suddenly, he’s acutely aware of how tight his pants have become and decides to discard them as well. You watch as he hurriedly pulls the fabric past his ankles, instantly locked to his handsome form. Your eyes follow his V-Line to the clear outline of his fat cock, bulging through his boxers already soaked in precum.

Just as quickly as he dispatched of your shirt, he pulls off your jeans and throws them to join the rest of your clothes on the floor. You shudder at the cool draft of the room on your exposed thighs, emphasizing the mess of slick drenching your underwear. You've been naked around him countless times before, but the way he eyes you up and down makes you feel more than desired by him; it feels like you're the object of his obsession. His angel's pretty pussy is ready and drenched in front of him, lewdly displayed and eager to be fucked. If only you knew how badly he wants to ruin you in this moment.

He leans forward to match his face to yours, his tongue grazing his teeth looking at you with a cocky smile. "Look at you. Do you know how wet you are?" he questions almost condescendingly. Before you can respond, he quickly sneaks his hand under your panties and drags two fingers across your cunt, picking up your wetness to show you. "See? So wet for me and we've only just started." His touch makes you convulse and whine his name, like you're begging him to give you more. He knows you need him so badly, and your cunt is already so wet he could slide his fat cock into you with ease. But he as other plans. Just a little more, he thinks to himself. Just a little more.

"You want me, darling? Do you want me to make you feel good?" He says as he licks his fingers clean, feeling a high from your taste. Something about his teasing attitude and his refusal to give into your usual tells has you at your limit. You place your hands gently on his face with a pleading look in your eyes. "Please, Lance," you beg through ragged breathe. "I need you so bad. I'll be good, just-- Please, fuck me."

He has you right where he wants you. He has you feeling as hungry and desperate as he is whenever you're alone together. He stares right into your soul, like he's hypnotizing you to do his bidding. "Show me, then. Be good for me and get on your knees." Without hesitation, you drop yourself to the stone floor, knelt in front of him as he sits on the edge of his bed. You're obedient, waiting for his next command because you'd do anything to have your sweet release. You'd do anything satisfy the deepest parts of him. With a smile, he plants a kiss on your forehead as a reward for your compliance.

"Good, now take them off," he orders as he gestures to his boxers. He lifts himself to give you room to take his boxers off and you pull them in one quick movement. His cock springs free upon its release and gently smacks against your face, smearing precum against your forehead. In this position, you realize how big he really is. So girthy and long; it's no wonder why he makes you feel full to the brim when he's inside you. The weight of his erection resting on your face is oh so tempting, you just have to take a taste. You drag your tongue against his balls all the way to his wetted tip. Lance throws his head back, leaning on his arms to ground himself from the earth-shattering sensation you've provided him.

To think, this man who's known for his well-studied vocabulary is now whispering profanities under his breath. "F-fuck, not too h-hasty, hm?" He feigns confidence even though his stutter reveals how truly whipped he is by you. You know you could make him fold to your whim if you kept going despite his attempts to slow you down, but tonight, you want him to have you exactly as he wants to. So you pout up at him, looking almost apologetic for your impatience. Once he regains his composure, he grabs the base of his cock and presses it further onto your face. "Let me see your tongue, darling. Stick it out for me."

You stick your tongue out close enough to his leaking cock that you can basically feel the heat radiating off him. And without warning, he slaps his cock several times on your tongue before easing it into your mouth to the back of your throat, coating it with his precum. The speed in which his girth fills your mouth takes you by surprise, so much so you almost pull away but Lance's large palms cradle the back of your head, preventing your escape. The feeling of his fat cock in the back of your throat borders on uncomfortable, but the feeling of his shape clearly articulated in your mouth makes your pussy leak onto the floor. He holds you there until tears well in your eyes and quickly pulls away when he notices them falling onto your cheek. For a moment, he looks down at you with panic, wondering if he had gone too far. He'd feel so guilty if you hated this, and feels even more guilty that he finds your tear and saliva covered face so frustratingly hot. But then you clear your throat and meet his gaze with grin plastered on your face, drool still dripping from your lips. "You like it when I choke on it, hm?" you say in a slur of words, already cum drunk. He looks back at you, returning your grin and lets out a shallow laugh.

You stick your tongue out again, ready for more. As he buries his cock into your throat, he's completely overwhelmed by the warmth of your mouth and your unabashed acceptance of him. He's so grateful to see you smile at his roughness and he's prepared to reward you in kind. His pace is slow at first, pulling out until your lips meet the base of the head, just to shove it deeply to where it belongs. He only starts to speed up when you grip the back of his thigh with one hand, the other gently massaging his balls. The sensation of it is all too much to bear; the shallow fucks into your throat nearly makes him cry from pleasure. If he were to look at you now, watching you take the whole of his length through your pretty lips, he knew it'd be over for him. As a renown warrior, his endurance would usually easily outmatch any opponent, but right now, he could burst in your mouth right this instant and coat your throat in white. He grits his teeth and groans your name with every thrust, just barely holding onto his bearings. He could probably die happy if he were to force his load down your throat right now, but he realizes there are much better places inside you for his seed to go.

He was dangerously close when he pulls out of your mouth. A string of saliva still connecting your mouth to his cock. Sweat dripping off his brow to land on your face beneath him. Only now does he notice your absolutely fucked out expression. Your eyes are half-lidded, high off of his scent and taste. The grip of his hand on your hair tugged on a primal need you didn't know you had. All the while, you rubbed circles around your clit so rapidly that it left a puddle on the floor. To Lance, this scene was a work of art; he had to pause to take in every detail so he could replay this moment for the rest of his life.

Taking your cheeks in his hands, he pulls your face into a deep kiss. "You're...so beautiful," he breathily praises you against your lips. "You've proven yourself to me. Now, let me be good to you." You can barely speak in your aroused state, all you can muster is a weak nod and a "Yes, please." You surrender yourself into his arms as he lifts you to lay you back on the bed, spreading your legs to position himself in between. For a second, he looks down at how completely soaked your panties are — how they stick to the skin of your cunt so perfectly that he can make out its entire shape through them. Pulling the cloth to the side, he slaps his cock against your puffy clit, causing the both of you to whine and groan in unison. He stands at the threshold, on the precipice of completely entering you. You think he’s teasing you by the way he rubs his cock on your slit, but really, he’s teasing himself. You’ve given him something valuable today; an unrestricted exploration of his deepest fantasy with you. The night feels like it lasted an eternity and matter of seconds at the same time. How could his fantasies be happening so quickly? He prods at your entrance, hoping to prolong the experience. You can tell his own patience has reached its end by the way his face unabashedly scrunches in desperation. This is the moment you've both been waiting for all evening, ready to face your absolute high. "Are you ready, my love?" he asks while licking his lips. You nod enthusiastically and beg, "Yes, Lance. Please. Please, fuuc-"

Before you can get the words out, he grabs the fat of your thighs and quickly slams his cock into your tight hole until it hits the deepest part of you. Waves of complete and utter pleasure wash over you, causing you to arch your back and roll your eyes to the back of your head. Your mouth opens to whine but his size knocked the wind out of you. Just seconds ago you were empty, waiting eagerly for his touch and now you are filled entirely by him. He rests himself inside your convulsing pussy, already milking him dry despite the fact neither of you are moving. You’re too overwhelmed by his intrusion to notice there’s tears running down Lance’s face. All the years of experience under his belt go to shit the moment he enters you, and suddenly it’s as if he’s a virgin again. He’s just so goddamn in love with you, he needs to bury himself deep enough inside you so you understand how much you mean to him. He needs to fuck every doubt that you’re not perfect for him out of your mind. He remembers what you said earlier, and decides he wants to do the same. Tonight he’ll have all of you.

Right from the start, his pace is punishingly fast. His little game of teasing you has long been over and now he's ready to fully consume you. Sounds of sex fill around the room — the slamming of his thighs against your ass as he plows balls deep into your cunt over and over again. The squeak of his bed threatening to give way at the tenacious rhythm of his thrusts. The sound of your leaking pussy making a mess of the sheets below you. The lewdness of it all rings so deeply in his ears that he, himself, can’t contain his grunts. Nothing else in the world matters except his angel beneath him, screaming his name as he fucks her to ecstasy.

The sight of you now is more alluring than anything he could have imagined. He watches the way your pretty cunt obediently takes every inch of his cock as it disappears inside you. You’re covered in marks he left on your body, your tits violently bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts, and to top it off, you’ve been whimpering his name nonstop since he plunged inside you. He loves the way he completely occupies your mind now — a physical confirmation that right now you’re his alone. All of this is deliciously perfect, so he knows it’s greedy of him to want more, but he can’t stop. He can’t stop until you’ve creamed on his cock. Not until you’ve taken every drop of his cum inside you.

He pounds into you again, again and again, relentlessly until he feels your cunt clench tighter around him. You can’t think straight, not when he bullies himself against your cervix like this. Your convulsions are a dead giveaway you’re close and he’s determined to shake you to your core. His pace not letting up, he uses one hand to rub quick, circular motions against your clit while the other has a bruising grip on your waist. “Come on love,” he coaxes you with ragged breath, “Cum for me. Cum on my cock… you’re so fucking tight, please-“ and finally, sweet release. Your back arches again as you feel yourself reaching your peak, tears rolling out of your eyes. He slows his pace to fuck you through your high, almost pulling out fully before thrusting deep strokes into all the spots that make you burst.

He stays inside you as you come down from your orgasm, leaning forward to wipe the tears from your face tenderly. “You’re so beautiful, darling. Hold on just a little more for me, okay?” he says softly, “Just. A little. More.” thrusting in between each word. It’s still not enough for him but he’s oh so close. Leaning himself upward again, he grabs your wrists in each of his hands to pull you deeper onto his cock. Ignoring the fact you just came and resuming his tempo. Your pussy is just too good for him to stop now, he still has to reward you for obedience today.

And reward you he shall. Like a good slut, your cunt squeezes and pulls him back in, pulling him closer and closer to his limit. Closer to claiming you, closer to marking your insides with his cum and making you his little wife. Your glazed over, fucked out eyes meet his as pounds your messy cunt harder and harder. He can hardly make out your ramblings over the sound of his body pounding into yours, but when your words finally register, it sends him over the edge. “I love you so much. It’s s-so fucking good. It’s too fucking good” you mumble shakily. Everything about your demeanor screams for him to impregnate you, to fill you your grateful pussy to the brim until it drips out of you. His movements are getting sloppy now, fucking as deep as your cunt will let him. The relentless pounding sends you back into a frenzy, as if your first orgasm prolonged itself enough to reach another high.

He’s absolutely about to burst from the way your pussy clenches around him again. But before he does, he pulls you forward by your wrists so you have a perfect vantage point of where your two bodies connect, watching how his length disappears into you. “Look a-at us. Look how you well you take it for me. Now take all of me, okay? I’m gonna…fucking…fill y-“ he couldn’t even finish his sentence before he bullies fat cock the back of your cunt and spilling his seed right against your cervix. His words are caught in his mouth from the immense pleasure; all he can stifle are loud groans and some semblances of your name in gravelly whispers. Warm semen filling your spasming cunt, shoving his cock in small rocks of his hips as if to prevent any of his seed from escaping. He releases his grip on your wrists to collapse on top of you, lying flush against your body, still spilling spurts of white into you.

You wrap your arms around him to pull him closer and rub circles on his back. Both of you are panting messes from the night’s intensity, but the afterglow makes it so worth it. He coils an arm around your back and nestles his face into the crook of you neck. Only then is he able to speak breathily against your skin, “I…love you…more than you can ever imagine.” Your eyes dampen at his sincerity and you whisper I love you’s while running soothing fingers through his red hair. For a moment the world is completely silenced — only the sound of your tired voices occupy the spaces in your mind. In this space, only you and Lance matter.

Once he finds the strength, he pulls himself up only enough to bring your face into view. “Thank you. For accepting me, for giving me something to call home,” he says as he presses a kiss to your forehead. You take his face in your hands and press your lips to his, hoping your gratitude can reach him through your action. Because truly, you are grateful. So grateful to have met someone who encourages your ambitions unapologetically. Someone who never aims to control you but support you when you need it. Someone who loves and sees you first. You’re so overwhelmed by gratitude, you nearly cry into his arms.

You’re comforted by his familiar touch, stroking the side of your shoulder with his thumb. This moment is both so incredibly special and completely ordinary at the same time. Because this is how you always feel around him, so special, so full of love. You didn’t flinch once at Lance’s words before the night’s activities started, not at all, because that feeling of wanting consume him is all too familiar to you. If he’d let you, you’d have him for the rest of your life. With a smile, you hum into his ear before you whisper, “Thank you for being mine, thank you for everything.”

He replies with a simple word, but you hang onto its weight like a promise, “Always.”

[gabessquishytum]

HI GABE recently my brother's choir presented "Carmen" and the 1800s' sexism of it all made me a little mad, so here I am, taking it for inspiration and making it Gay™ so that I can fecking go to sleep without fuming lol

Dream is someone who likes to party and knows how to have a good time - he dances from lover to lover without much care for "permanence". He frequents most of the bars and clubs around London, knows most of the people working on these places, he does drugs, does people, and most of the regulars knows him and his ways: you can have him for a single night and be happy for it, but do not try to wish for more than that.

Enter Alex, who had recently lost his father and broken up with his secret boyfriend of a couple years, and is trying to go out more and explore his sexuality, and has the misadventure of having his first one night stand be Dream. Needless to say, he becomes obsessed and tries repeatedly to have Dream's attention for himself, following him around the bars and clubs, insinuating himself in conversations, and when eventually he gets banned from most places, he starts waiting for Dream outside.

Hob, on the other hand, as a regular in a couple of the clubs Dream frequents, has known of him for a while but never tried to tap that, no matter how tempting he looks. They exchange a few words here and there but Hob wishes for things more permanent than a single night, and with the way he falls hard and fast, he knows having Dream once and never again would break his heart.

Things come to a head when Alex and two men try to corner Dream when he's leaving with his partner of the night - it's late and dark and the partner dips the moment it's clear the men are there for Dream only, and Alex still tries to reason with Dream to give them a chance, but when Dream refuses and calls him crazy, he orders the men to grab him and throw him inside the car, and Dream is frantic trying to get away from them—

And Hob appears out of nowhere like an avenging angel with three more guys, punching the man closer to Dream in the face and throwing his entire body against the other one, his friends holding them on the ground while the police is called. Alex unfortunately escapes during the brawl like the coward he is.

After that a new normal is stablished - Dream agrees to let Hob accompany him and the partner of the time their place if it's close enough, or just standing outside with them until their cab arrives. They start talking during these walks/waits, developing a friendship neither of them expected. Dream shares about the parts of his life he keeps separated from his night persona, Hob shares about his ex-wife and time of homelessness, and I don't know if I want to make the end Carmen Canon, make Dream bleed out on Hob's arms after Alex stabs him (don't worry, he gets better lol) or just make them develop a relationship where Dream still does as (and who) he pleases but this time with Hob by his side, while Alex goes back to Paul, the only person who seems to have the patience to deal with him, and begs his ex to take him back

We must always gay-ify the classics, if we can! It makes them so much better!

I feel like as per Carmen canon, it would be right to have Alex attempt to murder Dream in a jealous rage! He's seen that Dream is growing closer to Hob, and although they may still be sleeping with other people, it's entirely clear that they love each other deeply. They're friends, confidants, maybe even soulmates, and Hob seems to understand Dream so perfectly. Alex can't bear the idea of Dream loving anyone else, so he decides that Dream must die. If Alex can't have him then no one can.

Hob wishes that he was the one dying as he holds Dream in his arms, begging for the ambulance to arrive sooner, before it's too late. Dream is so thin and pale anyway, but with the blood-loss he seems even more vulnerable. Hob wants nothing more than to give his own life for Dream, but all he can do is try to keep him warm and stem the bleeding. He prays that Alex's aim was bad, and that the knife didn't hit anything vital. He practically shakes Dream to keep him awake. Promises him that everything will be alright.

In the hospital where he finally wakes up, Dream has vague recollections of Hob’s lips pressing against his skin. He's pretty sure that there was an "I love you" somewhere along the way. And Hob is still right beside him, asleep in the tiny hospital chair.

Dream loves his freedom, his transience and his ability to chose whatever person or people he fancies every night. But it also occurs to him that he really loves Hob. And maybe, the two things can exist together. Why shouldn't be have everything?

One thing is for sure - Alex is lucky that he's going to prison, because Hob would gladly kill him, if he had the chance.