#okay! that’s enough tagging for me tonight gn!

[gio-cosmo]

We are livin our liiiivvvveeesss abound with so much informatiooonnnn

[sanguineterrain]

in your hands | jason todd

Summary: Jason thinks he's too big to be loved. You show him that that's impossible.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings/tags: bathing together, sad jason, brief dissociation, i hc jason to have body dysmorphia and i wanted to explore that, non sexual nudity, washing your partner, bruce angst, hopeful ending.

A/N: as always, if you like this fic, tell me through comments and reblogs :)

the divider

Tonight, Jason comes home far away.

You clock it as soon as he walks in. He’s moving on autopilot: boots by the door, helmet on the shelf, gear in the closet. He washes his hands, hangs up his jacket, and then he stands at the doorway. And waits. 

You’re never quite sure what he’s waiting for. But you know that he’ll stay stuck in his head if you don’t step in. 

“Hey, baby,” you say, cupping his cheeks. “Hey. You wanna eat or clean up first?”

The change is instant. As soon as you touch him, Jason is there. You’ve never mentioned it to him. It frightens you too much to explore, knowing that you’re his tether. You don’t want to think about what that means, having the power to anchor a man who used to be dead.

He looks at you, meets your gaze head-on.

“Did I disappear?” he whispers.

“Little bit. It’s okay.”

You keep stroking his cheeks, avoiding his shaving cuts and the freshly split lip. There’s a bruise around his eye and on his temple. 

“Wanna wash up,” he finally says, but his hands cling to your waist. 

You pet the back of his neck. “Want me to go with you?” 

“Please?” He glances at the kitchen. “But if you’re in the middle ‘f something, then—”

“No, Jay. C’mon.”

You take him by the hand and lead him to the bathroom. Jason undresses while you draw a bath. Soon the bathroom starts to fog up with steam. You pour in some Epsom salts for his muscle aches—you know he should soak more than he does. 

You turn off the faucet. Jason is in his boxers, staring at himself in the mirror. He picks at his autopsy scar, presses the puckered white flesh until it turns red. 

“Jay,” you say gently. “C’mere, honey.”

His hands drop to his sides. Jason goes to the bath, pulls off his underwear, and sinks into the water. It’s a generously-sized tub. Jason had gotten his old tub replaced for a larger one after you’d mentioned that you liked baths. Soon enough, you’d introduced him to the wonders of hot baths for his sore muscles. 

Even with its size, Jason still has to bend his knees slightly to fit. He pushes himself up easily. A little water sloshes over and dampens the edge of your shirt. Jason curses.

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. 

“It’s okay, honey. You want me to come in?”

He nods. You pull off your shirt, then your pants and underwear. Jason folds in on himself to make room, but you stop him.

“I’ll just sit between your legs, Jay. No problem.”

You step into the bath. Jason holds your wrist so you can sit down without slipping. He stares at his hand on your arm after you’ve sat. 

You reach over for a washcloth and pour a lightly-scented soap. You lather it up first, then rub it over his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. Jason is perfectly still. 

“Can you lean over, baby? So I can get your back.”

Jason obediently leans over. You smile at him as he holds himself up with his core. You know Jason’s not just strong, that he’s agile too. He’s very good at wielding his body.

You wash his back. This close, you can see the contours of his muscles, how broad he is. 

When you’re done, you wring the soap out of the cloth and cup water in your palms to rinse the suds off of his skin. You catch his gaze in the mirror across the tub. Jason turns his head.

“God, look at me. How are you not afraid every time I come stompin’ around?”

You stop pouring water and rest your hands on Jason’s biceps. “What do you mean?”

He scoffs. “I’m like a huge, fuckin’... monster. Too big, too loud. I’m—” He swallows, bows his head. “How can you look at me?”

“Jay, honey. You’re not a monster.”

“Bruce thinks so,” he whispers, and straightens. “He can barely look at me. Every time he does, ‘s like he doesn’t even recognize me.”

His hand quietly swishes through the water to claw at his autopsy scar. 

“This is all I am. Just violence. ‘M too big for anything else.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and pull his head into your chest. Jason hugs you back. His shoulders begin to shake. 

“You’re more than your body,” you say. “You’re more than what the Pit made you. What you were.”

He shakes and cries into your neck. “I was small. People loved me when I was small.”

You pick up his head. Jason’s eyes are thick with tears. You lean in and kiss his Cupid’s bow.

“I love you.” You brush away his tears with your lips. “I love you so much, Jay. That’ll never change.”

“Too big for it,” he rasps.

You shake your head. “No, Jaybird. You’re never too big to be loved.”

“I’m s-scary.”

You kiss his temple, rub between his shoulder blades. Jason clings tighter.

“You don’t scare me. You never have.”

He pulls you closer, so you’re chest-to-chest. You straddle his stomach with your legs and hug Jason as tightly as you can. 

“I was good when I was small,” he says. “I don’t–I don’t know how to be good anymore. I wanna be good, I do. I don’t want Bruce to think I’m bad. I’m still good.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “Oh, Jay. Baby. You are good. You came back to make a change. You’ve always been good. You’ve got a good heart. Nothing’s going to change that. Bruce is stubborn and stuck in his head. But you’ll always be his son. And you’ll always have people who love you.”

“What if I’m not worth it?” he whispers. “What if I’m too lost?”

“Then I’ll go out and find you. And we’ll come home together,” you say. “You’ll always find your way back home.”

He smells like soap and Epsom salts. You kiss his autopsy scar. Jason shakes more. 

“Let me wash your hair, baby,” you say.

He nods, tears on his lashes. You wet his hair and pour shampoo. You rest your lips on his cheek as you lather the shampoo, detangling tiny knots with your fingers. Jason bends at the waist so you can rinse off the soap with the faucet.

You tap his hip and Jason sits up. He slips his arms around you again and tucks his chin into your neck.

“Don’t let go,” he says, suddenly desperate. “Don’t–don’t let me go.”

“I won’t, Jay. I’m right here.”

[ohsunnyboy]

coherent waves | lee anton ˚₊‧⁺˖

people say the first touch of fate feels like a circuit being completed. so why does lee anton's soulmate seem to hate him?

TAGS: soulmate!au, college!au, gn!reader, cute and awkward engineering majors!anton and reader, confessions in the rain, kiss!

A/N: this boy bias wrecked me SO hard i paused writing a sungchan fic for this haha self-indulgent SCREAMiing as always (to clarify, his mark is on his left, our right)

WORDS: ~1700

Everyone knows Lee Anton's face.

No matter what, everyone's got their campus crushes. The people they'd linger around a corner for in hope of seeing, those with soulmarks you wish would line up just perfectly with your own. Somewhere out there, someone's walking around with your first touch of fate around with them. It's for that reason everyone knows Anton as the campus crush.

It's impossible to miss the six feet of cuteness, the shoulders broad enough to span the Californian coast and the tan handprint branded across his left cheek. Lee Anton, the sweetest guy on campus whose soulmate was destined to slap him in the face once they met. Nothing in it spelt destiny for you, but it was definitely curiosity at first sight.

"Hey, are we okay? Just at group study…” And your brain sputters like a misfiring car. He’s right behind you, isn’t he?

You want to pretend you didn’t hear him over the bucketing rain – maybe even your thunderous heart. Without an umbrella, you’re screwed if you run down the library steps into the dark and you’d look insane to push past him back into the library. Damn.

Not once did you dare speak to him during the entire group study. Though the feeling of his curious eyes lingering on you alone lit you up like a fuse about to blow. No wonder he's asking you if you're okay. The entire time you acted like some tween with a stupid crush. Which you’re not. Clearly and obviously not. First year electrical engineering has enough problems to give you a migraine.

Something about being around him sets your brain off like a capacitor discharging. Everything firing off at once, without a thought of where to go.  

"No? Yes! Yes. Fuck – sorry. We’re fine." Is what you come up with.

And some boy can apparently render you stupid within two feet of him. Someone needs to remind you how you’re a candidate for the dean’s list again.

Your stilted answer and the ensuing silence cause the corner of Anton's lip to quirk into a grimace. "Ah – okay. Sorry, I'll see you Friday.” When he takes out his umbrella it nearly whacks you in the face before he starts to run down the steps, leaving not a glance behind him.

Ah, shit.

Stunned, you’re left with a) no umbrella and b) a burning sense of mortification about how badly that went. Before you know it, your feet are running you down the path he took. One problem at a time… c’mon fix this. "Hey! Hey wait up, please! Anton!"

Running in the pouring rain was something you never planned on doing tonight or any day of the week but for fixing whatever you’ve got with Anton – it seems worth it.

Whatever they used to say about stem majors being chronically unfit bookworms definitely applies to you, as your heart thuds in your skull and lungs start to give out. Somehow after months of trailing behind his broad back, you underestimated how quickly he can escape you. 

Finally, like a lighthouse in the night, his blue umbrella is radiant under the light of the bus stop. “Anton!”

Three months of dodging each other’s eyes and scampering out empty classrooms early, Anton’s eyes are at the edges of almost all your memories. You know his wide eyed look anywhere. But with as much grace of a new-born giraffe, you sidle next to him under his umbrella, unaware of the blush warming Anton’s face.

Thankfully there’s no one else about apart from him to watch you keel over for a solid minute to gather your breath. Internally you think you’re as bright red as the LEDs you use in the labs. That, and so soaked you’re sure you're waking up with a cold tomorrow. Though, it could be worse. It could be whatever happened earlier.

Caught again in his orbit, you feel it again. The charge crackling under your skin that makes you want to claw at it.

It’s a moment before anyone speaks, still too busy process what exactly is going on. Eventually you gain your bearings and look into his shifty eyes with resolution.

“Hey look – I’m super sorry about everything,” you blurt. “The entire thing with the study group and completely dodging you in class. I – well, it’s not on purpose but I don’t know why but it’s like I get caught in some interference feed within like a metre of you and I just can’t think straight. Everything just sort of fires off in an incoherent mess. I’m trying, I really do but for once, I just can’t explain it.” It pours out in what feels like one breath. You feel like you’re teetering on the spot, on the cusp of embarrassment or sheer confidence. At this point, it might just be both. “… Sorry if I made you uncomfortable about anything but you’re top of our year, so damn cool and collected all the time – I feel like my wires get mixed up.” 

There’s an ache in your neck from looking up to him and watching his reaction. Calm and collected as always. It must be the longest you’ve ever got to look him in the eyes properly. Until,

“Me too.”

Huh?

Anton pauses for a moment, worrying the inside of his cheek before admitting, “I… I really wished we could talk more but you’re always busy and I feel awkward butting in. You’re really intimidating in the group studies, you know? You know everything and get along with everyone so easily. I psyche myself out.”

As he talks, your cheeks warm in endearment and you shuffle closer while he’s distracted. The familiar scent of cherries that would haunt you around campus suddenly right under your nose.

“I mean, I thought you’d just be another person put off by this-“ he waves a self-conscious hand over his soulmark “-and being avoidant because of that. Though I guess I figured you didn’t care because you never lingered on it like… like everyone else.”

It comes to you all in pieces. Anton always ducking his head away, never looking anyone straight on, always pursing his lips and turning away whenever someone brought up soulmarks. Those rumours haunt him.

However, standing here you’ve never been more confident. You know your what your hand looks like.

Does he?

“I think it has a good story.” The look of disbelief he gives you is priceless but you push on. “I mean, mine’s just on my palm just like seventy percent of the population so it can be boring.” Under the light, you raise your hand to him, showing the contrasting darker skin on your right palm and the small shake of your fingers. Anton locks onto your mark with a laser focus that you’ve never seen before. “And besides… I think you know what your soulmark actually is.”

One step closer: you’re just a hairsbreadth away. So close you can feel is body heat through his hoodie and see your breath leaving goosebumps on the expanse of his exposed neck. In the reflection of his blown pupils you can almost see yourself.

He swallows, eyes never leaving your palm. "You know what everyone says about it." Anton chews at his lip, bitten raw from worry. It’s stupidly endearing whether he knows it or not. Instead of dropping it, you raise your hand, leaving it to rest on his shoulder in comfort. “That the only reason I get slapped is because I’m secretly an asshole?”

"You don't know that it’s a slap for sure.”

"Then what else could it be then.”

"Really, Anton?" you hum. He’s so tense under your hand you feel like he could shatter from where you touch him. His eyes dazed and lingering where your hand used to be "We’re both smarter than this.”

Under the streetlight, what he has is clear as day to you while you trace his mark with your eyes. The thumbprint that curls across his left cheekbone, to the fingertips that edge from his hairline to his jaw and even the light shadow that touches the corner of his lip – as if he’s pressing a kiss to the heel of their palm. "Whoever it is, they're holding you."

“…Whoever it is… ?” he murmurs.

Anton’s unwavering gaze finally bores into you. Two interstellar blackholes swallowing you up and bearing down. An infinite number of thoughts or none at all. All behind those eyes, calculating and calibrating. You wonder where he is in that brilliant mind of his.

“Do it.”

You’re so careful.

You don’t know what you’d do with yourself if you hurt him. Maybe this doesn’t work out? What if you’re just another person in the crowd watching and waiting for someone else. You knew from the moment you started high school, life was a bunch of problems that you had to solve. The sheer existence of uncertainty guarantees nothing in any aspect of your life. What is guaranteed already, what are the variables, what are you working with. Whatever this is – it’ll be another problem but not one you get to calculate – it's one you need to guess.

His skin is too warm, and your hand is too cold. Nothing sparks but something is complete in your heart.

It fades. The marks – yours, his, all of it. It recedes back as if it never existed.

"I told you so."   

The clatter of the umbrella is your only warning before his hands cup your face and he kisses you. He kisses you in earnest, softer than you'd expect and warm enough to make your knees weak. With a deceptive strength, Anton presses you back against a railing, and your arms loop around his neck, hands burying in his hair. Hidden muscles you used to wonder about, tense where you touch him.

Eyes closed to the rain, foreheads knocked together and not a care in the world. You’re pulled into him like air. Both of you are trembling with relief. Like coherent waves, you come together in sync and everything you feel is amplified between you two. It’s then you know exactly what was racing in his mind.

Smiling into your neck, Anton sighs. "I'm yours." His voice lower and a little bit breathier. It makes your heart skip a beat, and your mouth turns up at the corners.

All across your veins it’s like a current is pushing through your skin. Anton and you, a circuit complete.

blehh i'm rusty but i'm starting uni as a mechEng student soonish so wish me luck 🫡 a reblog or a like always helps to encourage more thank you! ⭒ masterlist

[deerlino]

DENYING THE OBVIOUS

— “i'm not falling in love,” he says, while he's actually falling the hardest. minho's in such deep denial, it's like he's drowning in the nile.

words ༯ 0.8k / pairing ༯ lee minho x gn!reader / tags ༯ best friends to lovers (kinda), childhood friends, mutual pining, fluff, humor, teasing & banter, arcade games, unspoken feelings, slice of life / content warnings ༯ fluff and more fluff !

a/n ༯ eh, this one's not my top-notch work, had a few bumps and hiccups, but hey, it's alright. took me ages to write tho. 😭 wanted to really nail that denial part, but i guess it's decent enough. hope you still got a kick out of it ! <3

“I’m not falling in love,” he says.

You stare at Minho, half-smirking, half-annoyed. He’s sprawled out on your bed, flipping through one of your old comic books, pretending he’s way cooler than he actually is. His hair is a mess—he’s too lazy to even run a hand through it properly. You roll your eyes.

“Sure, Minho. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you say, tossing a pillow at his face. He barely dodges it, laughing. It’s that laugh that makes your heart skip a beat, but you refuse to admit it.

“Why would I be falling for you?” he teases, grinning. “You’re like... my best friend. And you’re a pain in the ass.”

You snort. “Right back at you, loser.”

He sits up, crossing his legs and leaning forward. “Let’s be real. If anyone’s falling, it’s definitely not me. I’m the epitome of self-control.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, right. You cried watching Toy Story 3.”

“Hey, that was emotional!” he protests, eyes wide in mock offense. “Andy grew up, okay? It’s relatable.”

“Sure, sure,” you say, shaking your head. You grab your phone and plop down beside him, scrolling through your messages. He leans over, way too close, trying to peek at your screen.

“Who’s texting you?” he asks, curious.

You nudge him away. “Nosy much? It’s just my mom.”

“Tell her I say hi,” he says, leaning back on his elbows.

You do, and your mom’s quick reply makes you giggle. “Tell Minho he’s still grounded for breaking my favorite vase last year.”

“Mom says you’re still grounded,” you say, showing him the message. He laughs again, this time falling back onto the bed, clutching his stomach.

“Man, your mom’s got a long memory.”

“Yup,” you agree. “So, Mr. Epitome of Self-Control, what’s the plan for today?”

He sits up, his eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint you know all too well. “Let’s go to the arcade. I bet I can beat your high score on Dance Dance Revolution.”

“You wish!” you exclaim, jumping up. “You couldn’t beat me if your life depended on it.”

As you both head out, the playful banter continues. At the arcade, it’s as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s just you, Minho, and the flashing lights of the game machines. You watch as he concentrates intensely on the dance mat, his tongue sticking out slightly. You can’t help but think he looks kinda cute like that. Not that you’d ever tell him.

“Ha! Beat that!” he shouts, pointing at his score. It’s higher than yours by a mere point. You roll your eyes.

“Beginner’s luck,” you mutter, stepping up to the mat. He watches you, that goofy grin still plastered on his face. You nail the moves, one by one, beating his score by a landslide.

“Told ya,” you say, smugly.

He pouts, crossing his arms. “Okay, okay. You win this time. But next time, you’re going down.”

As you both leave the arcade, he drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. It’s a casual gesture, something he’s done a thousand times before, but tonight, it feels different. Warmer. More... significant.

“Hey, you hungry?” he asks, steering you towards the diner down the street. It’s your usual spot, a place that holds countless memories. As you slide into your favorite booth, Minho immediately starts teasing the waitress, who’s known you both since you were kids.

“Two milkshakes, please. Extra whipped cream for her because she’s extra,” he says, winking at you.

You stick your tongue out at him. “And fries. Don’t forget the fries.”

When the food arrives, you both dig in, talking about everything and nothing. It’s easy, comfortable. But there’s an undercurrent of something more. Something unspoken.

“Do you ever think about the future?” he asks suddenly, looking at you with those deep, thoughtful eyes.

You pause, a fry halfway to your mouth. “Sometimes. Why?”

He shrugs, looking away. “I dunno. Just wondering what it’ll be like. If we’ll still be... like this.”

“Like what?” you ask, genuinely curious.

He fiddles with his straw, avoiding your gaze. “You know. Best friends. Hanging out all the time.”

“Of course,” you say, nudging his foot under the table. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

He finally looks at you, a soft smile on his lips. “Yeah. You’re right.”

You both finish your food, and as you walk home, the silence between you is comfortable. His hand brushes against yours a few times, and each time, your heart skips a beat.

Back at your house, you sit on the porch, watching the stars. Minho leans back, propping himself up on his elbows, looking up at the sky.

“Thanks for tonight,” he says quietly.

You glance at him, surprised. “For what?”

He shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “Just... for being you.”

Your heart flutters, and you find yourself smiling. “Anytime, Minho. Anytime.”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment, it’s as if the world stands still. Then he breaks the gaze, looking embarrassed.

“Okay, seriously, I’m not falling in love,” he insists again, more to himself than to you.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Keep telling yourself that, idiot.”

But as you both sit there, the night wrapping around you like a warm blanket, you know the truth. And maybe, just maybe, he does too.

© deerlino (est. 040624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[angelicpoison12]

silky smoke ✧˖°.

Adam decides to share a blunt with you, his tour manager. things take a spicy turn when he gets a boner <3

wordcount: 1.6K

CW: 420 USE (Adam gets stoned LMAO)

tags: stoned blowjob, 420 use, Adam smokes while you suck his dick, rockstar!Adam, sloppy French kissing, thigh riding, you get off using Adam’s thigh! <3, (mild) praise kink, gn!reader, afab!reader

NSFW, 18+ ☆

you really need to learn how to tell Adam 'no'.

it's not your fault that the venue owners enforced the 'no smoking' rule so much. but with how much Adam was bitching and moaning, you decided to give in, hoping he'd shut up long enough for you to count the ticket costs and earnings of tonight's performance.

"baaaabeee... c'mere, hit this with me," Adam said with a giggle, smirking at you. he had taken off his mask, and his amber eyes were droopy, the whites a little pink. they were half lidded, his hands holding his bong as he began sucking up the white smoke. he had a silver zippo lighter lighting the cush, the water bubbling like a witch's brew in his bong. you smiled at him playfully. you weren't one to smoke; so you'd let him have his fun. "no, i'm fine, Adam.. but thanks. go on and enjoy yourself," you told him kindly, continuing to count the cash from the box in your lap. "fuck yeah! more for me," Adam laughed greedily. his bong was simple, but really cool. it was a regular glass bong that had little stars imprinted into the glass, almost in a 3D design, so you could run your fingers over the stars and feel the ridges of them. the glass was colored gold, and Adam went the extra mile to cut into his mask, allowing him to smoke with it on.

after just two hits, he was fucking gone. Adam was laying back on the venue couch, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at the ceiling, and he was making soft motions at everything. you had finished counting the earnings, so you decided to sit beside him. you had never seen Adam so stoned before, so this was kind of a funny sight.

"Adam, do you need anything?" you asked, gently running your fingers through his hair, threading the locks. he shrugged, making a soft noise as he put his head in your chest, his nose right in your sternum. you couldn't resist blushing at the sensation. "do you want a snack?" he shrugged, nonverbal. oh my god he was adorable. "some water? is your throat dry?" Adam immediately perked up and nodded, his lips a little parted. he began pressing his moist lips to your chest, leaving some wet marks on your shirt.

you blushed more at that, your cheeks the shade of raspberries. "okay you little manchild, let me get you some water, okay?" you said with a smirk. Adam huffed when he realized that meant you had to get up. with a pout, he moved aside, letting you get up.

you came back a few minutes later with a water from a vending machine outside of the venue. you were glad that you had the door locked, thankfully keeping the stench of Adam's stash inside. you knew that he'd never be allowed to play a show here again if the owners knew just how much of a loser pothead he was.

Adam took a few sips of the water, sighing dramatically before putting it down. he seemed a little more on Earth now. "fuck, i needed that.. thanks babe," he said. the petname made you look away, biting your lip. it wasn't out of the ordinary for Adam to call you cheeky nicknames casually; but you couldn't deny the rush it made you feel between your thighs.

"hm, there is one thing i still need though." "what, a bag of chips? a beer?" you asked, a joking sense of sarcasm dragging in your voice. "nah. although, a bag of Funyuns don't sound too bad right now..." Adam said thoughtfully, a hand lifting to rub the stubble on his chin. "i was gonna ask for some sloppy head. buttttt, i dunno, i think the chips are just as goo-"

oh, you were on your knees before Adam even finished his stupid request.

"shut up.." you muttered, undoing Adam's pants. you had to unbuckle his heavy studded belt, starting to unzip the denim fabric. "that's it. i knew you'd drop to your knees, fuckin' always eager to please, huh?" Adam asked with a cocky grin. he grabbed his bong again, pushing down some of the burnt bowl, knowing he could get at least one more hit out of it.

you huffed at his antics, but your cheeks were still flushed. you bit your lip, tugging his pants down to reveal his boxers. they were black and had little gold stars on them, cute. his dick was straining against the soft material, his tip leaking already, making a wet patch in the see-through material. "fuck babe, already drooling for my cock, huh? go on and get it out, do what you were born for." Adam said with a smirk, starting to flick open his lighter again. he reached lazily for his mask, putting it back on. he knew you enjoyed watching the smoke pour of it when he was getting stupid like this.

your tongue met the tip, and a hiss left Adam. you had always told yourself, and your parents, that you'd never fall for such a loser. a stereotypical frattish punk that could easily crush your heart from another girl (or guy, he was just that hot) if he really wanted to. Adam hadn't yet... so maybe you were in the clear? or were you just a little more special than any other fuck he had come across in his many years of touring and playing in dirty, dark venues?

Adam started to suck more smoke, humming as he did so. your mouth took in his length, your tongue swirling along the tip, your hands gripping his thick thighs. you glanced up, watching as Adam began to exhale. the white smoke began cascading out of his mask, the sight almost making you cum right then and there, untouched. it came out of the mouth portion, as well as around his eye mesh, and he was smirking at you, a hand coming down to pet your hair. "so good f'me.." he groaned, starting to slowly but surely thrust in and out of your mouth, making you choke a little at the impact. "relax, baby. just breathe.."

this was different from his usual movements. since Adam was stoned, they were sloppy, but.. soft? yeah, soft. as if he was intentionally being gentle. you liked it though. you preferred this since last time you nearly threw up on his dick (he was not happy about that).

"fuck.. babe, i'm gonna cum," Adam warned, his head tipped back, the horns of his mask digging into the couch. you movements got a little faster, the tip constantly hitting your uvula, making tears well up in your eyes. "look at me, babe. look at me when i cum in your mouth." you obeyed quicker than a snap. your eyes gazed up at him as if he were a deity.

the way you looked at him, your tongue, the hollowing of your cheeks, the drool dripping down your chin-it was all too much for Adam. he came with a shaky groan, his hips bucking into your mouth, forcing his semen down your gullet. you tried to squirm away, but Adam was a dick, so he kept your head down with his large hands. they were so big that they nearly took up your entire skull, the rings on his fingers fat and the gems digging into your scalp. the sting merely added to it all, making you moan and choke.

Adam finally let you come up when he felt you swallow, sighing and huffing, catching his breath as if he'd just spent the last five minutes sprinting for his life. "damn, all out already?" you asked playfully, tucking his flaccid cock back into his pants, zipping them back up. "it's tiring being me." Adam remarked, pouting. he took his mask back off, his forehead covered in sweat, hair wet from it as well. he patted his lap, inviting you up.

you got up in Adam's lap, squeaking when his hands were on your hips, guiding you back and forth on his thigh, making your eyes go cloudy as you clasped a hand over your mouth. "don't be shy, baby. i know you need to get off too.. you're fuckin' soaking my thigh, baby. that little pussy's jus' purrin' for me, hm?" fuck, his words were making you weak.

your feverish humping began. you were doing it with no shame. in fact, you were giving it your all, knowing Adam liked the show. you cupped his face, kissing him, the two of you closing your eyes. you felt your tongues tenderly caressing, the silky flesh making you melt. one of Adam's hands came up to caress your chest, squeezing and fondling the flesh, making you keen.

"cum for me, baby. it's okay babe, i've got jeans in the bus, i can just change when we get to the hotel.." Adam sweetly whispered, continuing to tonguefuck your mouth, making you shake. you came on his thigh, shaking and mewling like a pathetic little kitten, clinging to him. "shh, fuck babe.. fuckin' stained my jeans." Adam chuckled, dipping his fingers down to rub your thighs, bringing his digits back to his lips to taste you. he kissed you again, both hands sliding down to cup your ass.

you knew he'd only continue when you got to the hotel for the next show...

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

my sweet little snowflake buddies!

@6esiree , @frxstwalker, @cosmiiwrites

[charliekomori]

Like fear, like love.

Summary: Some of the diaboys comforting you when you have an anxiety/panic attack.

Characters: Shu Sakamaki, Ayato Sakamaki, Laito Sakamaki, Subaru Sakamaki, Ruki Mukami, Kou Mukami, Yuma Mukami, Azusa Mukami, gn! reader.

Tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, mentions of anxiety.

❀ Shu Sakamaki.

“The grounding warmth of a blanket in the cold hours of dawn; vivid sun hues on the dull horizon.”

When you are scared or anxious, Shu is the type to pull you down into bed (or whichever random place he happened to fall asleep at) with him. Even if he seems unbothered, his heart literally breaks when he sees you going through trying times.

So he tries to do for you what works for him; trying to get you to rest, even sharing his earphones with you, the soothing notes of a classical melody lulling you into dreams with him.

And you can’t see it, but his ocean eyes soften when you finally calm down, having fallen asleep with your hand still in his.

His free hand brushes stray hairs away from your eyes,

“Sweet dreams.” He murmurs. 

Even though he doesn’t like to see you suffer, he’s happy he can take care of you.

❀ Ayato Sakamaki.

“Sparks of a crackling fire, propagating against the rain, brighter than lightning.”

At first glance, Ayato might not seem like the mist detail-oriented guy, but he is pretty perceptive and intelligent despite his silly moments (and he is not given enough credit for it!)

Especially, when it comes to your feelings and little shifts in your mood.

Initially, he tries to lighten the mood with his usual “Oi, you should be happier to be in the presence of Ore-sama, why are you looking so depressed?”

But when all you give him is a meek hum, then you can see a concerned crease between his brows, that cute expression he does where he goes wide eyed and pouts a little.

The redhead wraps his arms around you, leaning his head on your shoulder, a silent invitation to play with his hair, to keep you distracted.

“If something’s happened, you know I, the great Ayato, will protect you.”

❀ Laito Sakamaki.

“The language of wordless lips over heated skin, the unholy touch of deft hands in the dark.”

Laito’s probably the most versed in understanding another’s feelings out of everyone here. A subtle change in the way you move and carry yourself, the small crease in between your brows, or the way your jaw tightens; those speak volumes to him, and he knows right away that something is not right.

He tries to distract you in the way he knows better: sultry words whispered in your ear, in the dim light of his bedroom; his hand sneaking beneath your shirt, lingering dangerously low on your hips; his sensuous lips trailing your neck and shoulder, pointed fangs sinking in your skin, the afterglow of his kisses ardently addictive.

You try to stop him at first, not because you dislike what he’s doing, but rather that you don’t want to burden him.

To bring back the memories.

To make him feel like you’re just using him to relieve your tension.

Of course, he notices that, too.

“You’re nothing like her, bitch-chan.” He whispers in between lovebites. “So for tonight, give into me, okay? Nfu ~”

❀ Subaru Sakamaki.

“The tender brush of white rose petals scattered into the night, their familiar sweet scent fending off eternal shadows.”

When you’re upset or dark thoughts have you overthinking, the first thing that crosses Subaru’s mind is “is this my fault?”

For a moment, he starts fearing for the worst himself, did he upset you in any way? Did his tainted self hurt you? Would you be better off without him?

However, all of those ideas die out as soon as you cling to him, your face buried in his chest, his cheeks blooming in pretty rose.

Subaru hesitates for a moment, but then he holds you, even if a little awkward at first. 

Needless to say, he wants to punch anyone and anything that made you feel so anxious, but you need him now, in the same way he’s needed you on endless nights when all he knew was despair.

“I love you.” He whispers softly, crimson eyes closing as he nuzzles into your hair, leaving the softest of kisses there. “I’m here.”

❀ Ruki Mukami.

“The soothing truth of irrefutable words set in stone; the softness of blackened feathers; white crows guiding you home.”

Honestly, Ruki is one of the best people to assuage the intrusive thoughts plaguing your mind. Not because he is the most affectionate or soft, far from it, but because the logic he uses to make you see you’ll be okay is pretty much absolute.

Your own doubts scatter away, washed away by the night reflected in the deep ocean of his eyes. Somehow, he always has the power to make you feel like you’ll be safe as long as you stay by his side.

Of course, Ruki won’t leave you alone either. He’ll pull you into his lap while he reads a book, even read it out loud for you if you ask him.

“You’ll be safe with me, livestock. As long as you have your master to protect you, no harm will come your way.”

❀ Kou Mukami.

“A happy melody with lyrics that accompany your tears; not in tune, but a game of opposites, as if understanding you, setting your sights on blue skies after a downpour.”

Kou is another one who will notice right away if your mood shifts. Not just because of his eye; he doesn’t quite need to use it when it’s you.

Even if he now stands on the brightest stages, he knows pain like no other, and he doesn’t like that look on you.

You are his bluest sky. To see it covered by stormy clouds… It makes him sad. Though because he is a performer, he knows how to distract you from your endless night.

He brings you roses or any little gift he noticed you eyeing another time; similarly to Laito, he’ll resort to physical affection and naughty touches if you’re in the mood. 

But you always told him you love his voice, so now, he sings for his favorite audience: you and only you. He’ll teach you to dance like he does if you’re in the mood too, catching you securely in his arms when you trip, teasing you.

“My M-neko-chan is the cutest when they smile… You are my favorite sky, okay? Never forget it.” He tells you, as he kisses the corner of your lips.

❀ Yuma Mukami.

“The familiar scent of a fireplace in the home you’ve so longed for; he is the warmth of the sun on your back and the hues of rustling leaves in late summer.”

“Oi, sow, why do you look so depressed?” 

His rough voice is blazing sunshine amidst thick tree canopies. 

He’s noticed you staring at nothing and probably thinking about too much as you help him in the garden. 

He’s noticed the iron grip you have in the basket of tomatoes, the one now in your hand threatening to be crushed.

He’s noticed the trembling of your form.

He’s noticed you are not acting like yourself right now.

And Yuma can’t stand it. Like the unforgiving freeze of a clouded dawn making flowers wither, he won’t allow for the rose petals you put in his life to never bloom again.

So, as he always does, he lets his actions speak volumes. 

Taking the basket from your trembling hands, he gently throws you over his shoulder. Bathed in the last of the sun’s golden glow, he begins the short trek back to the manor.

“I won’t let anything happen to ya, ya hear me? So stop bein’ so sad, I’m here.”

❀ Azusa Mukami.

“He is the softness of clean gauze over your sore hands; a flutter of butterfly wings brushing your cheek as you wake from a sweet dream.”

Azusa is very attentive, so he can tell the little shifts in your mood when fear wraps their cruel claws around you.

At first, he’ll try to distract you, showing you his knife collection and telling you about the story of each one.

That helps a little, gentle smiles tugging at your lips every now and then as you see him excited to tell you about them.

But he knows that is not enough, that you’re still worried; your mind, a tapestry of criss-cross throbbing wounds.

So he’ll patch them up, no matter how long it takes for the turbulent flow of blood to stop.

He’ll hold you from behind, his ever tranquil heartbeat warm and soothing against your back.

“Eve… You deserve to be happy… My Eve is always beautiful… But I like you happy the most…”

[cosmicstarlatte]

Flirting With Others (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

You and your favorite demon have a "will-they won't-they" thing going on and you got tired of it. You and another demon student flirt around. Your favorite demon sees this. How does he react?

»Characters: Demon Bros, Diavolo, Barbatos

»Tags: ⚠️ (for themes) *Self indulgent tbh, Possessive, Jealousy, Yandere for some, Toxic, GN Reader, Diavolo my beloved, swooning over beel

»Note: How did I forget this in my notes!? AAAAAAA♡♡♡

Lucifer:

He was on the way to his student office when he saw you two

Why are you smiling at them like that?

His eyes widened when he saw the other demon lightly touch your shoulder

He's not irritated, nope not at all

He takes it out on everyone for the rest of the day

Barely speaks to you for days

Why would you have eyes for someone else when he's more than available?

Saw you with that lowly demon again in the hallway and he just wasn't having it anymore

He called you to him

"We are going on a date tonight at 7. Be ready. Don't make me wait."

You seemed confused but very excited

He was too and just smirked at the angry demon behind you

Mammon:

Was waiting outside for you to go home together and he saw you from the distance with the demon

What's the human doing blushing like that?

Not one to ignore situations like that

Gets closer to investigate

Did...did that demon just touch their arm?

Seriously, why are you acting all happy and giggly with them?

He can't bare to watch...it....it kind of hurts

Before he knows it he's getting in between you two

"What? You wanna be food or somethin'? C'mon." He growls and drags you away angrily

The other demon tried to protest but Mammon slid into demon form in an instant so they backed off

He held your hand all the way home but he was silent until you got to the door

"Don't ever do that again...ya hear me? You're definitely mine, got it?"

Levi:

Couldn't wait to show you his new video of funny anime clips he made

He made sure to include some of your favorites, he knew you'd love it!

He went looking for you around lunch

Who is that demon...why are they so close to you?

They're getting too cozy...

He saw the demon wrap their arm around your waist while you laughed

TOO COZY

Before he knew it he slipped into his demon form and went yelling at the two of you

He grabbed you and dragged you away yelling about normies and his time

The other demon barely had time to say anything since Levi shot them a death glare

He kept mumbling angrily and finally stopped when you two were away from everyone

"You can't do things like that! I won't allow it! You're my player two, okay!? And...and tonight is date night!"

Satan:

Went to go meet you at the library

Noticed you were talking to a demon he was seeing around more often

Decided to spy just a little...was curious is all

Went from chill to "chill 🙂" when he saw the other demon kiss your hand

He rushed over and cleared his throat and offered a not so friendly hello

The demon didn't leave...great

When you went to the restroom Satan threatened them

"If you know what's good for you, I suggest you stay away."

Don't catch his paws

The demon had heard stories about Satan's wrath so they complied

He explained to you the other demon had things to do

"Hey while I have you here...would you like to go on a date this weekend?"

Asmo:

Was on his way to class but got nosy when he saw you were with someone that wasn't his brothers

He stayed back to check if you were safe

A small flame erupted when he saw the other demon lightly brush your hair with their finger

Ha! As if he could ever be jealous of someone like them!

But they were getting all your attention...

Sauntered over and introduced himself

He suggested the other demon leave since they would never be good enough for you

You seemed embarrassed but also delighted by the turn of events

"Sorry it took long...will you go on a date with me♡?"

He can't have anyone scoop up what's his 💅

Beel:

Went to look for you after school

Saw you with another demon in an empty  classroom

Saw the demon take both your hands

You were blushing and they were giving you a flirty smile

Before Beel knew it he was in front of you both and took the other demons hands off you, who protested

Beel bared his fangs and they backed off

"Lets go." Beel pulled you away angrily and carried you home

Why did he do that?

Was nervous/upset when he thought about you meeting with that demon so he was clingy for a few days

He froze when he saw the demon hanging around you again

pout

He put two and two together and realized he was jealous

He asked you out in front of the other demon and admitted he didn't want to see you with anyone else

Belphie:

Thought he was having a nightmare when he saw you and another demon flirting in class

What do you mean this isn't a dream

Belphie.exe has stopped working

Murder.

Murder on his mind.

You will be his. You are his.

He silently made his way towards you both and faced the other demon

punch

"Dont think you can get in my way." He warned the unconscious body

You seemed upset yet moved by his action

He grabbed your hand tightly and muttered about annoyances

"You're mine, no question. Everyone will know this now."

Diavolo:

He eagerly seeked you out after classes ended and came upon a crushing sight

You were laughing in the arms of another demon in the empty hallway

He must behave professionally

He must behave

He must-

"Who's this nuisance my little lamb? 🙂"

Oh shit was he in demon form too?

Why do you make him so weak?

He was pleased to see the other demon cower and excuse themselves quickly

The black aura probably helped warn them of the danger too

He apologized for his appearance but remained truthful with you

"Forgive me, I should've said this long ago. You are mine, let me be clear about that now."

He carried you home and from then on, everyone knew you two were officially dating

Barbatos:

Was on his way to Diavolo's office when he saw you and a demon skipping class and looking friendly...

Surely not you? No, not at all-

Not a fan of this new development but chose to ignore it, he had bigger things to focus on after all

Tried to continue to Diavolo's office unnoticed

It wasn't until he saw the demon wrapping their arm around you that he really snapped and walked over

"Ahem. Excuse me to interrupt..."

Pulled you away to the nearest empty classroom

Pushed you against the wall, his gloved hand held your face gently

"I apologize for not making my intentions clear before. We are together, starting now. I did not like what I witnessed and know that won't happen again."

⬦You might also like: Manhandling Them

[yuyusboyfriend]

⋆ Get On Mic ⋆

pairing: Mingi x gn reader ft. Yunho

word count: 2,3k

content: Mingi likes your, and his best friend's, voice a little... too much and isn't very good at hiding it

warnings/tags: mxm, sub!mingi, dom!reader, switch!yunho, phone sex, voyeurism, possessive mingi, I can't really think of any others, tell me if there's anything else

a/n: just incase, wyd= what you doing ,vc=voice chat, also this isn't proof read so!!! sorry

Mingi: you busy?

You: just finished some work, why wyd?

Mingi: jump on vc lets play, you promised. and the guys miss you

This was the 3rd time this week you had abandoned your 'finished' homework for Mingi. You would've said not tonight as said homework is due tomorrow, but for all the boys? You supposed you could play for a little while.

Mingi had been acting differently for a few weeks, nothing obvious, but you had noticed he had become much clingier with you. "Did one of your anime characters die or something?" you asked the giant that was wrapped around you as you made lunch for the boys.

"Hm? Oh, no, you're just so comfy. This hoodie new?" he grumbled into your shoulder, putting his hands in the front pockets as you tried to maneuver the both of you around the kitchen.

"No it's Jongho's, he said I could borrow it for the day-"

"Wear mine instead." Mingi unravelled himself from you and marched off to his bedroom with purpose, emerging with a hoodie of his own. It was your favourite of his, and he knew it—a tattered grey one that Mingi had owned for years, and he looked so pretty in it; you complimented him on it whenever he decided to wear it. You had actually been seeing it more often these days than you used to.

"Alright Mingi, whatever makes you happy princess" You didn't question his actions; Mingi's clingy days were quite endearing to you if you were honest. He clung to you like a koala to a tree, despite his stature and the fact you could hardly move when he did.

"I'm not a princess y/n,"

"You sure act like one? It's okay to be my princess Mingi, I'll look after you, hm?" Mingi huffed grumpily and slipped his hands under Jongho's jumper to pull it over your head, before realising you weren't wearing a shirt under it. Despite his beet-red face, he slipped his hoodie over your head, and took a step to admire his work; the way you looked in his clothes.

"See that's much better!" He yelled loud enough to smother the noise of his racing thoughts.

"I'm right here Mingi!" You rubbed your ringing ear as he apologised for nearly bursting your eardrum, "You are right though, this does look better. Could you give this back to Jongho when he gets home for me?"

He sighed sarcastically, "Anything for you my y/n." That left you with a weird flutter in your stomach, you weren't used to Mingi using endearing language like that. You wouldn't mind it again, though.

"Thank you, princess!" You laughed and ran away hearing Mingi's heavy footsteps not far behind.

You opened the voice chat to hear Woo and Joong fighting over who got who killed in their last match. "YOU LITERALLY-Y/n! You're here!" Wooyoung yelled down the mic and diverted his attention to you, with a slew of greetings coming through from the boys, Mingi's voice pitching in last.

"You made it," you could practically hear the grin on Mingi's face.

"Here he goes again" Yeosang's voice chimes into the conversation.

"Shut up Yeo."

You look at your screen, confused as to why Yeosang would say that and what it meant; why Mingi's tone had turned deep and icy at the statement, but before you even had a chance to question the situation, Seonghwa beat you to it. "Let's play! San I'm gonna beat your ass."

"We're on the same team??"

After playing a few rounds for a few…hours…the boys finally called a 20-minute break so they could go stretch and raid their kitchen for whatever they had bought on a late-night shopping trip. Well, you thought everybody had gone anyway.

"Y/n?" You almost missed Mingi's hushed voice down the mic, he sounded so soft. You hoped you could go and see the boys after all your assignments were handed in; you missed Mingi's hugs-turned-cuddle-sessions-turned-sleepovers.

"What's up princess, you okay?" your gentle tone sent shivers down the boy's spine. He felt hot when you called him sweet names through the phone, and while he wouldn't admit it to anyone, the way you called him princess got to him. Bad. Like bad in the way that was making him shift in his chair as the fabric on his plaid pyjama pants felt tighter by the second. Fuck, he felt so guilty, letting your sleepy voice get to him like this, but he just couldn't help it. He loved it, he loved the way you made noises when you stretched in your chair, groans slipping out of your mouth-

"Mingi? You there?"

He accidentally huffed a little down the mic, trying to conceal his whimpers as he pressed down into his growing hard-on, trying to gain some friction with the palm of his hand while he answered your worried tone. "yeah yeah,, I'm here. Can you just… talk? Tell me about your day,,, please?" Now that he had started, he just couldn't stop himself from reaching into his trousers now grinding up into his palm through just his boxers.

"Yeah, sure Mingi. So you know that assignment? I actually haven't…." The warmth of your voice spread like wildfires across his burning skin as you told him about… he totally wasn't sure what you were saying. His head was too fuzzy, too high off of your voice that he could barely register your words when he wasn't concentrating.

"Mingi are you okay? You sound out of breath, should I tell one of the guys to check on you-"

"No! No, I'm hh, fine y/n,, c-carry on please" Mingi knew he would get caught any second with the noises escaping his mouth, but he just couldn't help it, he wanted you so fucking bad, he was so desperate for you to just make a move on him after weeks, months of teasing and touching; hell, he had 3 wet dreams and infinite cold showers after he took Jongho's hoodie off your body, his eyes absorbing every detail, curve, scar, blemish, beauty mark—whatever his eyes had access to at that moment.

"Princess. You should've just told me you needed my voice." Busted. You could hear Mingi rhythmically shifting and huffing, his chair squeaking every once in a while. In all honesty, you had caught Mingi doing this a couple of times now, You could always hear the sound of Mingi's hand smacking the base of his cock as he stroked himself to your voice. It lit a heat in your stomach so strong that after the first few times, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from reaching into your underwear and playing with yourself; Slow enough as to not cum on the call but by the time it had ended you'd be writhing and squirming into your mattress. The thought of him taking in your body with greedy eyes any chance he could had your legs shaking as your orgasm hit you like a truck, crying out his name into your pillow.

"Wh- what? What do you mean?" Mingi's movements came to a halt on the other side of the call.

"Mingi, do you think I can't hear what you've been doing? How all of a sudden when it's just me and you, your breaths become heavy? Oh, princess, you're cute." you couldn't help teasing the poor man, you didn't think you had done too much till you heard the giant whimper into his mic, hands moving at a faster pace than before.

"Answer me, baby, tell me what you're doing, please?"

"Ah- I'm… fuck I'm sorry. Just—your voice is so hot, I couldn't help it—ngh" Before you could you heard a phone camera click, followed by a notification on your phone—Oh.

Mingi's veined hand was practically suffocating the base of his angry cock, precum leaking out of his tip. God, it was a beautiful sight that made your mouth water-

"Mingi. You didn't send that just to me…"

Yunho: did you mean to send that to the both of us or should I just pretend I didn't see anything?

Yunho: Either way, Impressive👍

Mingi squeaked at Yunho's messages out of embarrassment, and being kind of turned on at his friend's words.

Right? You like what you see, Yunho? Come join the call again…

You had a sneaking suspicion that they both had a little more interest in each other than just lifelong friends, and while you liked Mingi a whole lot, his best friend was just as pretty. The two of you had also shared some drunken kisses and touches one night after helping a blacked-out Mingi to bed. You wanted to dress them up in matching outfits and parade them around the house-

"Mingi? Y/n?" Yunho cautiously called out your names, his voice more gruff than usual.

"Yunho… help…" Mingi was barely able to get his words out, between the shame of getting caught out, and the way it was making him more needy by the second, his brain felt as though it was becoming mush.

"Mingi, are you really rubbing one out in the call again? You were bound to get caught, this is on you." Ah, so you weren't the only one who had caught onto his antics. To be fair, when it was just late-night calls between the 3 of you, he wasn't sly at all. All the shuffling and coughing to cover up his sounds, and the way he would mute himself for a suspiciously long amount of time with no warning, all to come back with a groggy voice and shallow breaths.

"Again?! Ah-What do you mean again-" Mingi gave up on trying to stop his whimpers and groans between speaking, letting them fall out of his bitten lips.

"Mingi, you could've just told us you needed our help, I'm literally in the room next to yours." Yunho can't help but let out a throaty laugh at the boy's predicament.

"Don't you dare Yunho, if you're gonna touch him then I better be there for it." Your body heat rises at the thought of the two of you teasing Mingi's aching body till he cums for you both. As if Mingi was thinking the same thing, his sweet noises increased with each stroke, one hand reaching up to play with his sensitive nipples. He was so desperate to cum after unintentionally edging himself two times, both of your words mixing with the fuzz in his brain making.

"Guys I don't mean—mean to stop the bickering but—please help,,," Mingi grabbed his phone and threw himself on his soft bed. Since his room was already darkened, the only sources of light emitting from his gaming setup and phone screen thanks to the blackout curtains, he turned the camera on for you and Yunho to see his tired and red face huffing into the darkness.

"Pretty," You heard Yunho whisper under his breath, so quiet you weren't sure if he had meant to say it out loud, but Mingi's little whimper as he rutted against his bed reassured Yunho either way.

"You think so Yunho? You think our princess is a pretty boy?"

"So pretty. Arent you Mingi?" He cried out so loud Yunho could hear him through the wall. He began to beat his cock harder with each stroke slapping his skin louder than the last.

"Oh Mingi, you're so worked up sweet boy, you gonna cum for us?" you whispered sweetly, bringing Mingi closer to his edge.

"Y-yes fuck please I'm so close please keep going" The boy moaned out into the bedsheets, craving his nearing release. He imagined two sets of hands on his aching body, Yunhos larger pair raking across his chest while one of yours grips the surface of his hip, the other dragging up and down his weeping cock.

"Im gonna- I- I need to cum-" You could hear Yunho's breaths becoming shaky and uneven too, the sounds coming from the two almost making you cum untouched at the thought of them getting off to this.

"Yunho, you ready to cum with Mingi? I wanna hear you both cry" You say with a smile, rolling your hips into your pillow.

"Y-yeah, Mingi fuck cum princess" Yunho tried to say in a stable voice, faltering as he and Mingi came into tightened fists, cum streaking against their surroundings. Mingi cried as he spurted white liquid from his tip, what felt like hours of edging coming to an end finally, his orgasm hitting him so roughly he had managed to get cum on his face and the walls from the buildup. Yunhos had been a little less explosive but he had still been desperate for release knowing what his roommate had been up to for so long. After a minute or two of no talking, you checked in,

"You boys okay now?" You approached the situation cautiously.

"Y/n, can you come over? We'll help you with your essay just- please come over?" Mingis's groggy voice pleaded, Yunho carrying on his thoughts.

"I'll pick you up and take you to college in the morning too, we miss you." Maybe it was how soft they sounded in their haze of post-nut clarity, but you really couldn't say no to them.

"I'll be ready in 5 but take your time getting here… Also, I didn't get to cum so are you guys gonna fix that orrrr?" You hear the call end as you finish your sentence and suddenly feel embarrassed.

Mingi: be there in 4.

I'm sorry this is so ass tbh😭😭😭😭 it's done now though thank GOD

[starrierknight]

𝟎𝟏𝟎. 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 ❛𝐧❜ 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲

“Here's to alcohol, the rose colored glasses of life.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned

MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER 23' | AO3

wc— 8.8k

pairing— dom!gn!reader x lightweight!sub!gojo

cws/tags— dubcon, sex under the influence, drinking, humiliation, mild dumbification, friends to lovers (with a healthy dose of mutual pining), in vino veritas, frottage/dry humping, cum & spit as lube, handjob, reader has boobs/AFAB reader, tit-fucking, overstimulation, edging, multiple orgasms, cum eating, dacryphilia, mix of praise & degradation, petnames: “slut” + “needy” + “cutie”, major spoilers for the horror film ‘Saw’ (2004), netflix n chill type beat

As the warm, sunset hues gradually dimmed and dusk settled in, you found yourself lounging on the plush couch, accompanied by your cat. With the Netflix menu at your fingertips, you eagerly searched for the perfect film with the perfect plot twist to heighten the evening's atmosphere. 

It’s October, after all. The perfect time to embrace the unexpected.

From the distant corner of the room, the familiar click of the front door echoed, signalling Satoru's arrival for your movie night. Satoru stepped in, shedding his jacket and slipping off his shoes, the weariness of his day evident in his movements. He lifted his blindfold off and tossed it over his shoulder. After placing his travel bag and jacket down, he made his way to the couch, collapsing beside you without a word, his attention fixated on the television.

The sudden movement caused your cat to startle and gracefully leap off the couch, retreating to a safer distance. A soft chuckle escaped you, breaking the tranquil ambiance, and you turned your focus to Satoru.

"Long day?"

He hummed in affirmation, the day's fatigue evident in the lines of his face, though his gaze remained fixed on the Netflix options. A beat passed before he let out a sigh, a note of weariness accompanying his words.

"A very long day," he confessed, his exhaustion palpable. He made a vague gesture towards the television, groaning playfully. "Do we have to watch another horror movie?"

You couldn't help but smile at his weary demeanour. "It's October. It's, like, a crime to not watch horror during October." You sighed and stretched out on the couch, a touch of playful reproach in your tone. "Don't tell me you're getting bored of them," you teased, giving him a gentle nudge.

He made an exasperated noise, although it carried a half-hearted quality.

"Okay, fine. But if I have nightmares tonight, I'm blaming you. I don't sleep well enough as it is," he joked, crossing his arms and allowing himself to relax on the couch. 

The weariness of the day seemed to lift a little as the familiar comfort of your home surrounded him. He closed his eyes, finding solace in the quiet and the purring warmth of the cat that had rejoined him on the couch. The cat settled on his lap, seeking both company and warmth against the encroaching evening chill.

Amused, you couldn't help but snicker. "A sorcerer afraid of horror movies? Now that's a plot twist. Aren't you used to much scarier things in your line of work?"

"And I would have thought someone with free time would pick up a hobby or two," he retorted with a playful grin, absently stroking the cat's head as she purred contentedly. "Besides, most movies are a pale comparison to what I have to face day to day." 

You snorted. "Was that a jab? It better not have been a jab." Your grin widened as you continued flicking through the various options Netflix had to offer. "Trust you to get bored of horror films."

"Can you blame me? I deal with curses and evil spirits all day long. I'm allowed to want to watch something light and fluffy from time to time, like a real man," he retorted, a hint of mock defensiveness in his voice.

His gaze remained shut, as if he were still savouring a mental escape into a different world. "Don't laugh, I'm serious," he added, pretending to be stern.

You chuckled and quickly stifled it with your hand, grinning. "Oh, I'm not laughing. Promise."

His head tilted, and he finally opened his eyes, turning in your direction to gauge your playful expression. "You know I can hear you, right?"

You continued to laugh, attempting to stifle it unsuccessfully. "I’m your friend! I'd never laugh at you."

A very mild, almost imperceptible scowl settled on Satoru's otherwise handsome features. He continued to stroke the cat on his lap, muttering under his breath, "Oh, sure, you wouldn't. I believe you. Absolutely."

You couldn't help but smile at his mock irritation and stood up, tossing Satoru the remote. "Pick a horror film we've not seen before. I'll be back in a second, I need to get some... supplies to make this more entertaining for you."

Satoru looked up with a bemused expression as your words sank in, his eyes tracking your movements as you made your way out of the living room, still cradling the cat on his lap.

"Supplies?" he asked blankly.

"Just pick out something!" you called over your shoulder, a mischievous hint in your voice, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Satoru did as you asked, perusing Netflix's selection of movies before eventually settling on a particular one. When you returned from the kitchen, he looked up from the screen, holding the remote out. However, instead of handing it over, he pulled it away before you could even attempt to retrieve it from him.

"I'll give it to you if you tell me what these supplies are," he challenged, an amused glint in his eyes.

You smirked, taking your hands out from behind your back to reveal a large bottle of vodka and two shot glasses. "The best kind of supplies, of course."

Satoru raised his eyebrows, visibly intrigued. With his head tilted forward once more, he gazed at you with a wide grin. "No way in hell am I touching that crap."

Your smile only grew wider as you plopped down beside him on the couch, placing the vodka bottle and shot glasses on the coffee table. You reached over and snatched the remote from him, determined to make the night more exciting.

"We are playing a drinking game, since horror apparently bores you so much. So, yes, actually—you are touching 'that crap'," you declared. 

A touch of liquid courage couldn’t hurt, right?

Satoru let out a dry chuckle and pushed a stray lock of hair out of his face before speaking, his voice tinged with a hint of self-assuredness.

"There's not a single horror movie in existence that could hold a candle to the kind of nightmares I experience on a regular basis. But playing a drinking game is fine too, I suppose."

The cat on his lap meowed and nuzzled his leg, leaving a trail of white, fluffy cat hairs on his sweatpants. You reached over to scratch the cat under her chin, and she responded by nuzzling your hand and purring contentedly. 

"Aw, you scared? You a scaredy cat?" you teased affectionately.

Her purring grew louder at your attention, and she rolled over on her stomach, presenting her fluffy belly to you, begging for more scratches. Satoru watched the interaction with a slight smirk, his reservations waning. He was always weak when it came to you, after all.

"So what are the rules of this drinking game?" he asked, shifting his attention from the cat to the impending movie night.

You hummed thoughtfully and glanced at the TV, noting that he had chosen 'Saw' (2004) for your viewing pleasure.

"Oh, excellent choice. I haven't seen this one. Let's see... There's a creepy doll, right?" You paused to think. "We drink when someone dies, when we see the doll, when there's a flashback, and... when someone begs for their life. How's that sound?"

Satoru hummed in agreement and nodded as he regarded your game proposal. "Fine by me."

He reached for the vodka bottle and poured you both a shot glass, raising his glass in a teasing toast. "To your health."

With a grin, he knocked back his shot, though his facial expression morhphed to betray his distaste for the vodka. You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, well aware of his aversion to alcohol. As 'Saw' began playing, you followed suit, knocking back your own shot and settling in next to Satoru, continuing to pet the contented cat on his lap.

The cat purred in response to your attention, adding a soothing background to the tension-filled movie. As the film progressed, you both quickly downed shots within the first half-hour, and while you were still relatively sober, a gentle fuzziness began to envelop the edges of your thoughts.

"Your rules are killing me," Satoru whined. "Ugh, I'll be shitfaced by the time the film ends."

In an attempt to keep up, he downed another shot, grimacing at the familiar burn in his throat. Despite his initial reservations, Satoru found himself enjoying the game more than he had anticipated.

You couldn't help but grin smugly, your fingers affectionately ruffling his fluffy, white hair. "Aw, you're such a lightweight. Don't pass out. That's no fun."

Satoru chuckled, leaning into your touch, savouring the sensation. He downed yet another shot—to drown out his nerves, though he wouldn’t admit it—and his laughter quickly devolved into a fit of amused coughs.

"Hey, you're the one trying to get me drunk off my ass," he accused with a lazy smirk.

You leaned closer, your tone conspiratorial. "I'm not trying—I'm succeeding, thanks."

As the movie continued to unfold, you both found yourselves inching closer to each other on the couch, stealing glances when you thought the other wasn't looking. The cat, purring contently, basked in the attention as you pet her, and occasionally, your fingers would gently brush against Satoru's, almost by accident. 

Almost.

Satoru leaned in closer, his shoulder pressing firmly against yours as he downed another shot of vodka, the effects of the alcohol becoming more noticeable for him. You both sank deeper into the couch, the cat purring even louder as she wiggled her way into your arms, cradled by you. The euphoria of the moment began to envelop you—how could it not, with Satoru by your side?

Satoru, on the other hand, seemed to be feeling the effects of the vodka more profoundly. He made a show of yawning casually and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, his actions less coordinated than usual as he accidentally knocked the throw blanket of the back of the sofa.

"Smooth," you mumbled, a soft laugh escaping you.

Satoru hummed in agreement, the alcohol altering his inhibitions. His arm shifted, fingers now gently tracing patterns on your collarbone, sending delightful shivers down your spine. You could feel your body reacting to his touch, a combination of warmth, shivers, and a tingle of pleasure that made your senses dance.

He leaned in even closer, the proximity causing a playful struggle for space on your lap with the cat, who mewled in complaint. His breath brushed against your ear, and he whispered, "You say somethin’?" 

Your lazy grin persisted as you whispered into his ear, "You can hold my hand if you're scared, y'know... No need to be strong for my sake."

The sound of your whisper ignited a fiery rush of heat through Satoru's body. The intimacy of the moment hung heavy in the air, and he didn't say a word or make a move, allowing the sensation of being so close to you to wash over him. If you were listening closely, you might have been able to hear the rapid rhythm of his heart hammering away behind his ribs.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice husky and low, his lips dangerously close. "I'm not scared," he purred, "I just wanna hold your hand."

Your teasing continued as you cooed to the cat, playfully chanting, "Scaredy cat, scaredy cat, scaredy cat," while showering her with drunken kisses to her fluffy head.

"Shut up," Satoru retorted, a hint of a grin on his face as he lightly tickled your neck with the tip of his finger.

The cat meowed contentedly in your arms as you continued to lavish her with attention. Satoru, not one to be left out, reached out to stroke her fur with his other hand. He pressed himself even closer to you, his cheek resting against your chest, and let out a contented sigh. The world around you seemed to blur as you sank deeper into the intimate cocoon you had created together on the couch.

You rested your cheek against Satoru's soft, white hair, the movie playing in the background mostly forgotten as you both enjoyed this newfound closeness. The effects of alcohol were evident in his lowered inhibitions, causing him to startle at violent scenes in the film, jolting against you. He did, in fact, grab your hand at one point.

"Aw, 'toru... You're so scared," you teased, a grin tugging at your lips.

Satoru pressed even closer to you, his body intimately connected to yours. His soft hair tickled your skin, and his fingers gently traced patterns against your flesh, creating a dance of touch and warmth.

He hummed in amusement and leaned his head back, his gaze fixed on the screen though distant and glazed. It was clear he relished being close to you, his words carrying a slur that reflected the relaxed state he was in. "’S true. I'm a scaredy cat…"

"Say it again... I dare ya," you encouraged, poking his cheek.

The alcohol was affecting his thought processes, his words coming out sweet and slurred. "I'm... ‘M a scaredy cat," he whispered, his voice barely audible, his gaze half-lidded and dreamy.

He reached up and gently placed a hand on your cheek, his fingers tenderly trailing over your skin. "You... You're so pretty," he murmured, the words filled with sincerity and a touch of awe. 

The alcohol had loosened his tongue, allowing him to share a sentiment that perhaps he wouldn't have expressed otherwise. He had plenty of experience thinking of you as pretty, as gorgeous, as stunning—but saying it out loud? Now, that was uncharted territory. Acting on it? Only in his dreams, or those late nights he spent thinking about you when he couldn’t sleep.

"You're so drunk," you whispered, a smile playing on your lips as you looked down at him, his head resting against your chest.

Satoru emitted a grumbling noise in response, clearly feeling the effects of the alcohol, but then leaned in closer to your ear, his words laden with desire. "And you're so soft ‘n’ warm ‘n’ pretty. Wanna do more than just hold your hand..."

His words trailed off, a frown forming on his face as he struggled to find the right words. The alcohol had muddled his brain, his mind racing with lust-fueled fantasies that he found difficult to separate from his tamer conversation he typically had with you.

You were about to respond when a gunshot sounded from the TV, causing the cat on your lap to startle and scamper away in fear. The abrupt interruption made you burst into laughter, and you reached over to the coffee table, attempting to pour yourself another shot, albeit missing the glass.

"Oops," you giggled as you tried to regain your composure.

You lifted the shot glass to your lips and knocked it back, the burn of the vodka a welcome distraction from the rising tension in the room. You made a playful show of sipping it, and he noticed the few drops of vodka dribbling down your chin.

"Oh, I'll take care of that," he offered, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Leaning forward, he lapped up the remaining vodka off your mouth. His lips were soft against your skin, but the sensation sent shivers down your back, the feelings of lust growing stronger with each passing minute.

You blinked in surprise, caught off guard by his unexpected action, and gently batted him away. "Mm... 'toru, you're drunk,'' you mumbled in a half-hearted protest.

"So are you," he purred, brushing his fingertips down the column of your neck. "'M getting so, so tired of just holding your hand..."

His words were slow and deliberate, the effects of the alcohol manifesting in both his speech and movements. He reached forward and traced his fingers along your jawline, subtly urging you to lift your chin, as if he wanted to kiss you. His words were slurring together and he was practically glued to you now, doing poorly at hiding the raw desire in his gaze.

You let out an exasperated groan. "But the game... I wanna finish the drinking game," you whined, attempting to steer the focus back to the film.

"I wanna finish, too... But not in the way you're thinking of," Satoru replied, his words carrying a seductive tone, his gaze fixated on your lips. The alcohol had clouded his judgement, blurring the lines between desire and restraint.

He leaned in even closer, not fully registering your discomfort with the proximity. His primal instincts were taking over, fueled by the alcohol. He wanted to bite, to taste, to make you his.

You groaned again and prodded his chest, attempting to gently redirect his attention. "I wanna know who Jigsaw is, though," you grumbled, gesturing vaguely toward the television as the film continued to play.

Satoru's actions were fueled by desire and amplified by the effects of alcohol. He snickered and wrapped both of his arms around your body, his movements slow and deliberate. His touch was both tender and electric, each caress sending waves of heat through your body.

"He’s John Kramer," he whispered against your neck, his voice laced with desire that sent shivers down your spine. "Jigsaw’s name he took up after he was… Ah, what’s the word? Um… Oh, diagnosed with inoperable brain cancer."

A satisfied hum escaped Satoru, and his hands began tracing a pattern on your body, teasingly close to the hem of your t-shirt. The sensation left you feeling hot and yearning for more.

You turned your head toward him, a drunkenly exasperated look on your face. "How the hell d'you know that?" you muttered. "You've not seen this before..."

"I’m a genius," he quipped, his confidence bolstered by the alcohol.

He placed another kiss on your neck, this time closer to your jaw, and you could feel his lips tugging and nibbling at your skin, igniting a rush of pleasure. His half-lidded gaze was fixated on your mouth, a silent plea to indulge in the desire that had been building between you. 

You couldn't help but sigh, your exasperation giving way to a soft laugh. "Prick... You worked it out," you admitted. “You always spoil the twists.”

Satoru chuckled quietly under his breath, his hand still resting on your cheek, his fingers continuing their sensual trail along your jawline. It was as though he couldn't make a simple movement without infusing it with an enticing quality.

His gaze remained fixated on your lips, their perfection and inviting allure captivating his attention. The alcohol-induced haze seemed to have amplified his desires, leaving him irresistibly drawn to the intimacy that lingered between you.

Satoru leaned in, his warm breath tickling your ear, and he posed a question that sent a shiver down your spine. "You wanna finish this game?"

"What, are you John Kramer now?"

But Satoru appeared to be paying little attention to your words, his chest rising and falling against yours as his breath grew heavier. He moved in closer, brushing his lips tantalisingly against your own, teasingly slow and maddeningly tempting, but not a real kiss.

Once more, he whispered against your ear, his voice filled with longing. "You're so beautiful," he groaned, his words sending a jolt of desire coursing through your body.

"You spoiled the film for me, 'toru," you grumbled, a playful frown on your face. "Make it up to me."

Satoru's breath still lingered against your ear as he responded with a husky murmur, "I can think of a few ways." His tongue began to tease your jawline, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Fuckin’ tease. So soft ‘n’ perfect, and I want you..." he muttered, his words a seductive melody that continued to set your senses ablaze.

Frustrated by the teasing and unable to resist any longer, you rolled your eyes and lunged towards Satoru, overshooting slightly and accidentally bumping his nose. In the first few seconds, he seemed stunned, caught off guard by the sudden embrace. But as realisation dawned, he responded fiercely and passionately, wrapping his arms around you and pressing himself into you, the connection intensifying with each passing moment.

Your hand fumbled in an attempt to caress Satoru's face but ended up getting tangled in his hair. Satoru, equally tipsy, giggled and attempted to steady you by grabbing your shoulder but nearly lost balance himself, tipping into the sofa cushions.

Your mouths meshed together, a flurry of enthusiastic, sloppy kisses—wrestling match of lips and tongues, each trying to find a rhythm but failing gloriously. You broke apart momentarily, wiping your mouths and laughing at yourselves and the mess you had made.

He struggled to catch his breath, panting heavily. "Wow..." he murmured, his voice husky and strained. "Where’d that come from?"

You laced your fingers into his hair, tugging slightly, and kissed up the column of his neck, whispering into his ear, "You spoiled all the fun. Make it up to me."

Satoru's body responded almost immediately to your touch, a guttural sound escaping him as desire surged through him. He was at the mercy of your presence, and the intensity of his longing for you only grew by the second. 

"Mm..." he managed, his voice thick with desire. "You're so demanding. I like that." His grip on your chin was firm but gentle as he pulled you closer, your faces inches apart. "Kiss me again," he requested, his desire palpable in his voice.

Satoru shuddered and let out a low, primal sound as you kissed him, the electricity between you electrifying the very air. He attempted to say something, but you drowned his words with your passionate kisses, losing yourselves in the intoxicating connection. Your tongues danced and intertwined, the taste of vodka on his lips adding to the fervour of the moment. He trembled, unable to contain his reaction to your touch, surrendering to the sensations that coursed through him.

The feel of your fingers running through his hair and the sensation of your tongue against his neck drove him wild. He wrapped one arm securely around your body, pulling you closer, fitting together like two puzzle pieces that belonged perfectly—exclusively—to each other. The world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you, consumed by the intensity of your desire and the magnetic pull you shared.

You shifted on the couch, straddling Satoru, the chemistry between you undeniable as you continued your passionate kiss. Satoru gasped and let out a low moan, his eyes closing as he surrendered to the desire that surged within him. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers flexing and exploring the curves of your body, desperate and hungry.

Your mouths danced in a wild frenzy, tongues intertwining. Every touch, every movement, sent electricity through both of you. Satoru struggled to contain himself, your presence rendering him powerless in the most enticing way. His hands roamed up your thighs, teasing and tempting, the sensation leaving you both breathless.

Slowly, you ground against each other, the pleasure intensifying with each movement. Satoru groaned softly, his head rolling to the side as he fought to maintain a semblance of control. But the intimate contact and suggestive position made it nearly impossible for him to hold back completely.

Whispering again, his voice husky and strained with lust, he let out a breathless, "Oh, my God..."

Satoru's deep groans filled the room, his pretty blue eyes now nearly rolled back into his head, completely consumed by the intense desire coursing through him. His grip on you tightened, almost painfully so, as he clung to you desperately, unable to get enough.

You continued to grind against him, kissing, biting, and sucking his neck in a frenzied display of passion. Satoru's control was slipping away rapidly. His fingers flexed around your hips, exerting a pressure that bordered on pain, but he was powerless to stop himself. Lust had transformed him into an unbridled animal.

"No... No, no, no..." he groaned under his breath, his voice strained and filled with desperation. "This is... Too much... I can't take much more of this..."

His movements against you grew more urgent, the veneer of control slipping away as he allowed his desires to guide him. Satoru's movements grew more uncoordinated, and he seemed to have lost all concern for your comfort. His focus was solely on his own pleasure, his desire pushing him to the brink of abandon.

He pressed himself against you, moaning deeply as he buried his face in your neck, his grip on your hips unrelenting. His tongue and lips moved sloppily across your skin, and he seemed to have surrendered to the overwhelming sensations that were coursing through his body. His movements were fueled by a deep lust that made it seem like no one but you could satisfy him.

He pressed his body against yours with an urgent pace, each movement dictated by an insatiable craving. You could feel the pressure of his teeth against your skin as he sucked hard, his whispered words barely audible in the midst of his lust-fueled frenzy.

"S-stop…! I-I... Need to... Need to..." he stammered, his struggle for coherence evident as he fought against the consuming desire.

But you felt his rhythmic movements, a desperate rocking that reflected the depth of his longing, and you knew better. He was painfully hard, and he needed you too badly to stop now. He could feel the pre-cum dripping down the length of his aching cock, confined by his boxers and layers of clothing. The warm, wet stickiness coated the cotton of his underwear, but he wished more than anything that it was your skin.

His legs twitched, and his grip on your hips remained tight, a lifeline as if he feared you might slip away. His forehead glistened with sweat, his heavy breaths filling the air, passion that holding him captive. He had become a vessel, lost in the overwhelming storm of desire, struggling to regain control even as he knew he was slipping further away.

The desperation in Satoru's voice was palpable, a clear indication of the battle raging within him. You were on the edge of concern for his well-being, but the potent mix of desire and alcohol clouded your judgement. He was slipping further into the abyss of lust, his once coherent thoughts succumbing to the overpowering need.

His hips moved up and down against you, his body aching for release, his muscles flexing and tensing in his struggle to maintain a semblance of control. "Stop... Just... Can't..." he groaned in frustration. "Oh, please, God I need to..."

"C'mon, 'toru. Take what m'giving you and make it up to me," you whispered into his ear.

Satoru's face flushed, and he choked on his breath, trying to comprehend your words amidst the chaos of his senses. After a moment, the meaning of your demand seemed to register, and his voice faltered as he attempted to respond. But words failed him, and all that escaped were incomprehensible babblings of pleasure and need. 

"P-please... I... Can't... It's too g-good. Oh, fuck..." he struggled to articulate, the intensity of the moment rendering him nearly incoherent.

A loud, primal moan escaped Satoru as he reached his orgasm, the intensity of the pleasure overwhelming him as he gasped and shuddered. You pulled back, drunkenly giggling as you teased him. Your fingers ran through his sweaty hair, pushing the damp strands away from his eyes.

"Aw... You came already?" you taunted.

Satoru's body trembled with the aftermath of pleasure. Your touch was almost too much for him to bear as he rested his head on your chest, his eyes wide open, his mind temporarily blank as he grappled with the enormity of what had just transpired. He was so lost in his own satisfaction that he failed to fully grasp your teasing.

"Mm... Yeah," he mumbled, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "Sorry... I... Lost control."

Still shaking, Satoru looked at you, his flushed face and trembling body bearing witness to the intense release he had experienced. He attempted to speak again, but only a low groan escaped his lips.

"So needy," you remarked.

Satoru appeared completely exhausted, as if he had just completed a gruelling marathon rather than experiencing the intense pleasure that had overcome him during your passionate encounter. The intensity of the moment had left its mark, and he remained lost in the aftermath, struggling to regain his composure and find the right words to express himself.

Satoru continued to tremble, his body still awash in waves of pleasure and clouded by the effects of the vodka. Your teasing and taunting in these vulnerable moments made his heart race, and he responded with a lack of shame.

"Fuck, I am... And I'll admit it, too… God, I really am pathetic. I got off in... In so little time," he confessed, his words carrying a sense of unabashed satisfaction.

You smiled and tenderly caressed his flushed cheeks, cupping them in your hands and feeling the warmth of his skin against your palms. His proximity, your words, and the sensuality of the moment had his heart racing, and he couldn't help but respond to your every move.

"It's cute... So cute, so slutty," you whispered, your voice filled with affection.

Experimentally, you rolled your hips against him, biting your lip provocatively. Satoru's body reacted immediately, his breath quickening as he tilted his head, his eyes filled with desire. His hands instinctively gripped your hips once more, and a cute squeak escaped his lips as you continued to caress him, your hips moving in a slow and sensual rhythm.

You giggled and rolled your hips again, squishing his cheeks in your hands. "Mmm, you're so cute when you're drunk..."

Satoru was still sensitive, and your movements sent shivers of pleasure coursing through him. His own desire remained unabated, and he couldn't help but respond to your playful advances, the intensity of the moment making it impossible for him to resist.

"Mm... Mmm... God..."

Satoru's body responded yet again, his breaths growing heavy and laboured. His heart raced, each beat echoing loudly in his ears, his trembling hands betraying the intensity of his desire.

"N-no... Not like this... S-stop..." he mumbled, his words slurring together, unable to distinguish between his body's reaction to lust and the effects of alcohol. "It's... T-too much..."

"Needy, needy slut," you continued to taunt.

Your kisses on his neck and the sensation of your fingers through his hair sent electric shocks of pleasure through his body. He was losing himself completely in his response to your touch, the boundaries between pleasure and the haze of intoxication blurring.

"Mm... Mmm... No... No, stop..." he begged, his words transforming into a plea. Your lips on his neck were driving him wild, eliciting loud moans and gasps from deep within him.

Satoru let out a low-pitched moan as you teased and whispered sinful words into his ear. You overwhelmed him, and even though he knew it was all a game, he found himself playing into it more than he let on. His body was completely at your mercy, and he felt his muscles tensing and contracting as he tried to hold back from cumming again, still so sensitive from the last time.

"Stop…! Too much... I-I know what you're doing... I-I... Can't take it..." he gasped. "’S too much... You're killing me..." he moaned.

Satoru's control over his body had vanished entirely at this moment. Lost in the whirlpool of lust, he was begging for more. His voice shook as he protested, his whole body trembling as he struggled to maintain some semblance of restraint. Unable to stop himself, he leaned into you, his head tilting as you kissed, licked, and caressed his neck.

"Needy, pathetic slut," you murmured into his ear.

"Too... Fuck... Mmmm...." he mumbled, his voice hoarse and his body writhing. "Please..." he begged. "Don't... Do that... I can't stop... Not like this... Please..."

He heard every taunt you said, but the overpowering rush of euphoria had him gasping and moaning, unable to hold back any longer. He gave in.

Satoru's body trembled as he came again, his moans escaping his lips incoherently. His eyes were rolled back in sheer ecstasy, his face contorted in pleasure. Afterward, he remained still and silent for a moment, basking in the afterglow of his release. His breathing slowly calmed, and he stared blankly into space, lost in the post-orgasmic haze.

As the credits of the film rolled on the television, you continued to stroke his hair and affectionately kissed his cheek. "Cutie, so blissed out," you murmured.

Satoru's heart beat slowly and gently, his body relaxed and content. He seemed to be in a state of pure satisfaction.

"Mm... Mmm... H-hm...?" he mumbled in response.

Satoru smiled and brought his fingers up to his cheek, where you had kissed him. He ran them softly across his face, savouring the lingering sensation. He was gradually regaining his sense of self, but a look of contentment still lingered. He rested his head back on the sofa and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

"You… You know how to make a guy's legs go weak," he murmured, smiling lazily.

You smirked and rocked your hips against him slowly, watching him hiss through gritted teeth. "Seems like it, yeah."

Satoru let out a low growl of desire and tightened his grip on your shoulders, his fingers digging into your skin. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he asked, his voice laced with a mix of playfulness and desire.

You tilted your head coyly, running your fingers along his jawline. "Maybe. Is that a problem?"

He chuckled softly, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. "Not at all. In fact, I think it's only fair. You’re having fun teasing me, driving me nuts."

You let out a laugh. "Teasing is an art form. I think I’ve mastered it."

Satoru grinned, his eyes sparkling. "Consider me your willing canvas."

You playfully leaned in closer, brushing your lips against his ear. "Oh, I have many more colours to paint with."

His breath hitched, and he swallowed hard. "I look forward to the masterpiece."

With a playful wink, you moved away, giving him a moment to catch his breath.

"Mmm.... God, you're insufferable..." Satoru murmured. His cheeks burned a rosy pink as he squirmed a bit under your rocking against him, but he did nothing to fight or stop it. "Too much..." 

He seems close to losing himself to you again. He turned his head away from you and pressed his forehead against the sofa. He scrunched his eyes shut and just groaned.

"You can take some more, Satoru," you drawled.

His expression hinted at both pleasure and annoyance. Satoru grimaced and squirmed against the sofa. His eyes opened and he looked up at you, his face flushed and his body shaking a bit.

"No I... I can't... I'm too weak for this..." he mumbled, his words slurred with a mix of pleasure and annoyance. He was completely overwhelmed by your tease, but his body couldn't really help but respond to you.

"N-no... Too much... I... I c-can't..." he gasped. “Not again, not again…”

You leaned in closer, your voice low and tempting. "Are you sure, Satoru? You're enjoying this."

Satoru's resolve was weakening rapidly, and he bit his lower lip, struggling to maintain some semblance of self-control. "I... I really should... I should stop you," he stammered, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

"You should," you teased, brushing your lips against his ear. "But will you?"

He let out a frustrated groan, torn between the intense pleasure you were offering and his own desire to exercise restraint. "Fuck me," he muttered, his voice a mixture of desire and frustration.

You continued to move against him slowly, your lips tracing a delicate path along his jawline. Satoru's grip on your shoulders tightened, his breath hitching as he struggled with the sensations overwhelming his body.

"Come on, Satoru," you purred. "Just a little more... Give in to me."

He hesitated, his willpower waning, and you could see the internal struggle playing out in his expressive eyes. Finally, with a shuddering sigh, he gave in, his resistance crumbling. 

"Alright... A little more," he whispered, surrendering to the intoxicating pleasure you offered.

You snickered and kept rocking your hips against him. "Look at me."

"Mmm... What?" Satoru murmured. 

He was slowly getting more and more worked up again. His words were getting harder to understand. He seems to be losing his ability to think straight. His head rested gently against the couch cushions, his eyes half-closed, his furrowed eyebrows a testament to his focus on every exquisite sensation you offered—your words, your voice, your touch—all conspiring to drive him to the brink of ecstasy. He was far too busy focusing on the pleasure of your body against his to hear your words.

"I... I can't focus... Can't stop it…!" he whimpered, his words barely reaching your ears.

You laughed and stripped your t-shirt off. "Keep your eyes on me, yeah?"

Satoru's eyes flickered at the sight of your chest, his jaw going slack, but he tried desperately to keep them focused as he groaned and squirmed against the sofa. 

"Yes... Y-yes... Oh, fuck me… Too much... Mm... Mmm."

Satoru's self-control was hanging by a thread, the tempting display before him driving him wild with desire. He tried to hold your gaze, but it was a challenge as the pleasure intensified.

"Just a little more," you coaxed, knowing exactly how to push his buttons.

Satoru's breathing grew ragged as he struggled to maintain focus. He reached up and cupped your face, his fingers trembling with the effort to stay composed.

"I... I can't hold back," he gasped, his voice thick with desire and frustration.

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss, intensifying the sensations coursing through his body. His mouth, warm and soft and eager, tasted like the vodka you had indulged in, but that wasn’t what made you feel so drunk. Satoru's grip on you tightened.

He struggled to maintain focus as you leaned in closer, your voice a sultry whisper against his ear. "Let go, Satoru. Just for a little while..."

He gasped, feeling the temptation building in the pit of his stomach. "I... I can't..."

"You can," you encouraged, your breath warm against his skin. "You deserve this, ‘toru."

His body trembled, torn between his desire to hold on and the allure of surrendering to pleasure. "Just... A little more," he whispered, his resistance crumbling as he gave in to the mounting ecstasy.

You bit your lip and guided his hands to your tits, still grinding against him. There was a look of shock on his face but he seemed to be doing his best to keep his eyes on you. The intensity of your connection continued to build as Satoru's touch grew bolder. His moans and whimpers filled the room, mingling with your own sighs of pleasure. You maintained eye contact with him, a sultry smile dancing on your lips as you revelled in his desperation that we wore so brazenly.

Satoru's fingers explored every curve and contour of your chest, his grip growing tighter as his need intensified. He couldn't tear his gaze away from your eyes, from your body. 

"Mm.... Oh, fuck-fuck-fuck," he murmured as your hips continued rocking against him. He whimpered and let out a few soft moans as the sensation built. "God..." 

"Yeah? How's that, hm? Needy boy," you teased.

"Mmm…! Oh, God... So much..." Satoru murmurs as his hands continued fondle your chest.

His body was so sensitive that constantly squirmed and his breath hitched and trembled. His grip on you tightened as he continued moving his hands across your tits and squeezing the soft, supple flesh. His words had almost become completely incoherent, reduced to just desperate moans and half-sentence fragments.

"Oh, God... Need you…! Please… Mmmm..."

But just before he could fall into bliss, you caught him, pulling yourself away.

Satoru gasped and squirmed, disoriented by the sudden change. Confusion and fear laced his voice as he whimpered, desperately seeking understanding. "What's... What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?" he whined, his vulnerability on full display. "Do I... Do I need to beg more?"

His eyes, wide and imploring, pleaded for reassurance and guidance. Meanwhile, you grinned mischievously and knelt down in front of him, leaning on his knees.

"You've made quite a mess, ‘toru," you cooed, a musical edge to your voice.

His eyes widened, his gaze dropping to his sweatpants. Horror washed over his features as he noticed the conspicuous wet patch where his cum had soaked through, his face now a canvas of embarrassment.

"Oh.... Oh, fuck..." he whimpered, mortification taking over. Frantically, he shifted and tried to hide himself, begging you to avert your gaze. "Oh god... Don't look... Please, please..."

As he tried to cover himself with his hands and turn away, but you wrenched his wrists away and pinned them to the sofa beside him.

"Look at me."

"Mmm... No! No, please…!" Satoru protested.

He squirmed and fought you, trying desperately to move away and trying to pull his wrists away from you. He seemed terrified at the thought of you seeing him like this, all soiled and ruined and dripping.

"Don't look at it... Please..." he begged, tears welling up in his eyes, his cheeks flushing a brilliant cherry-red that you could see clearly, even in the low-light.

You smiled sweetly and teasingly pressed a quick kiss to the wet patch. "So needy."

You maintained your hold on Satoru's wrists, preventing him from averting his gaze or escaping your teasing advances. His body jerked and he lets out a moan. His face contorted with a mix of shame, pleasure, and fear. He writhed beneath you, caught between wanting to escape the situation and being unable to deny the arousal he felt. His protests were weak, his resolve crumbling in the face of you. He grew more desperate, his tear-filled eyes reflecting a mix of pleasure and distress.

"Don't look at it…! Please..." 

Ignoring his pleas, you pressed another teasing kiss to the wet patch, causing him to whimper and moan in response.

"Please... No... Stop it…! It feels good, but... Please..." he mumbled, his body trembling beneath your touch.

Your snickers filled the air as you continued your playful assault, leaving a trail of kisses along the fabric of his inner thighs. Your fingers maintained their firm grip on his wrists, ensuring he remained under your control, his vulnerability and desire laid bare before you.

Satoru whimpered and struggled to control the mounting pleasure surging through his body. He gasped and moaned, his hips involuntarily bucking into the air, seeking more stimulation.

"Ahhh…! Ahhh... Please... Oh, fuck! Mmmm..." he continued to whimper, lost in the throes of desire.

Your teasing words only fueled his need further, his desperation evident in every breathy plea and every quiver of his body. "Aw, you're so cute, ‘toru."

As you skillfully removed his sweatpants, leaving him in only his boxers, his eyes widened and his gaze turned even more intense.

"Ple... Please... Please, more..." he begged, his voice a husky mix of need and yearning.

You pressed your hand to the soaked patch on his boxers, feeling the heat and dampness, relishing in his vulnerability. Your fingers curved around his throbbing erection, and you palmed him through the material with just the barest pressure. His pleas for more were music to your ears.

"More? Yeah, you want more?" you teased, your tone laced with innocence that belied the intensity of the situation.

"Mmm... Ahh…! No, no, no please... Please… C-can’t take more…" he stammered, torn between desire and the overwhelming sensations he was experiencing.

"But you just said you wanted more," you teased with a pout.

Satoru's pleas had reached a feverish pitch, his desperation palpable in his voice and movements.

"Oh, fuck... Please... More, more, more..." he begged, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.

You maintained a playful demeanour, revelling in his heightened desire. As you tugged his boxers down, exposing him completely, he gasped audibly. His cock sprung free, slapping his stomach. Your jaw dropped at the sheer volume of cum and pre that had accumulated. You couldn't help but be drawn to the way his hips responded eagerly, pushing into the air with an instinctive urgency. His pretty cock—flushed, dripping, hard and aching—twitched as precum drooled from his slit.

"That's what I thought," you said smugly, trailing your fingers trough his mess and then spitting into your hand.

Your actions only intensified his yearning, and as you used your saliva-slicked hand to tease and pump him, the sounds of wet friction filled the room. With each and every drag of your hand down the shaft of his hard, aching shaft there was a loud, satisfying ‘schlick’ sound that accompanied his whimpers.

"Yeah? Is that enough or do you still need more?" you taunted, a smirk curving your lips.

Netflix's 'Are you still watching?' message went unnoticed, as you were both thoroughly engrossed in your homemade entertainment.

Satoru could hardly form words, the pleasure now overwhelming any ability to express himself coherently. He let out a strangled moan, his hips involuntarily frotting into your hand as he gasped for air, unable to respond beyond the primal sounds escaping him. His body shook and his hips bucked desperately, more precum drooling from the cutely flushed pink tip.

"H-hnnn... Ahhh... More..." he managed to stammer, his voice barely coherent, lost in the sea of sensation.

You couldn't help but tease, watching him struggle with his need. "Yeah? You gonna be a good slut and keep begging for more?"

His wide, desperate eyes locked onto yours as you continued, each movement sending shockwaves through his trembling body. "P-p-please... Please... God, fuck..." he begged, the words strained and barely forming.

He struggled to communicate his desires amidst the overwhelming pleasure. "I... I n-need... Ahhh…!" he whined loudly, his body convulsing with the effort.

Teasingly, you challenged him and retracted your hand. "Oh? What d'you need, hm? Better use your words and tell me.”

He whimpered and shook his head, desperate for the sensation to return. "G-God... I... I need… Oh... God..." he panted, his desperation palpable. "I need... You need to..."

Teasingly, you prodded him further. "You need me to...?"

But he was beyond the ability to respond with anything more than monosyllabic pleas for more, lost in the overwhelming pleasure. You laughed, toying with him further, adjusting your position and enveloping his slicked cock between your tits, squeezing gently with your hands on either side of them as you began a tantalising movement.

"Isn't this fun?" you teased, taking note of the tremors that coursed through his body. "You're such a cutie."

His features, typically so composed and captivating, were now a canvas of raw emotions. The pleasure surged through him, leaving him helpless in its wake, his body reacting to the intense sensations. Tears streamed down his face in torrents, leaving streaks on his typically flawless skin. His eyes, usually vibrant and full of life, were now swollen and red, the brilliance dimmed by the weight of his desire. Uncontrolled sobs wracked his body, causing his normally steady breaths to hitch and break in heartbreaking cadence.

In that moment, all pretense of strength was lost. His shoulders, usually squared and proud, hunched forward under the weight of his surrender. The weight of the world seemed to bear down on him, crushing the bravado and exposing the raw, unguarded depths of his ache.

His hands, usually so steady and assured in their movements, trembled uncontrollably. Fingers clenched tightly, seeking desperately for something to hold on to, to anchor him amidst the storm of his anguish. Each sob escaped his lips with a wrenching ache, echoing the depths of his desperation.

His eyes rolled back into his head just as his dick bucked against your chest, and your eyes were struggling to find a place to rest on: his flexing abdomen, trembling thighs, quivering lips, shaking hands, twitching cock—a total buffet of expression.

"Almost there, aren't you?"

Satoru let out the loudest groan he could manage and shuddered against your chest. His mouth curled into a tiny, smug smile before his jaw went completely slack. A few seconds later, he came. Your tits were coated in thick spurts of his hot, sticky cum—flooding your skin and dripping down your abdomen. 

"Aw, you've done so, so well... So good for me," you said sweetly.

You could feel him shaking as he writhed and twitched, and it seems he was still caught in the aftershocks. Satoru lay there, his body still trembling. His chest heaved with each labored breath, his mind swimming in the euphoria that engulfed him. You gently stroked his thighs, grounding him and bringing him back to reality, his breathing immediately calming. He couldn't believe what had just happened, how every touch, every sensation, had left him in such a state of blissful exhaustion.

"G... God..." he whispered shakily. His whole body shivered and he continued to breath heavy and hard. "Fuck..."

Satoru breathed heavy and hard, panting as he slowly came back to reality. He was so exhausted and worn out that he could barely form any coherent thoughts, and his eyes were already closing.

"Oh... God..." he stammered and took a deep breath. "That was amazing..." he said softly, looking down at you with a weak smile. He mumbled, still struggling to put a sentence together. "I didn't know—I didn't know it could be like that..."

You smiled and got up off your knees, sitting next to him on the couch. You kissed his cheek. He seemed so vulnerable now that his defenses were gone, and he let out a small sigh before he leaned his head on your shoulder. His hair was still covering his eyes, but you could see the blue glow through the strands.

He lets out a small yawn and blinked slowly as he glanced around, his expression soft but still so very tired. Satoru's smile grew as he looked at you, his eyes filled with a newfound warmth and affection.

You gently brushed a few strands of hair away from his face, your fingers tracing a soothing path across his cheek. "It can be pretty amazing when you're with the right person," you whispered tenderly.

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice soft and sincere. "With the right person… I... I'm so..." he said hoarsely. He sighed and shook his head slightly. "Ah... I'm so tired..." he whimpered, his arms still wrapped around you.

“You still need to clean me up.”

Satoru groaned and pouted, sticking his tongue out at you.

"Oh c'mon... You like it..." he said, trying to sound annoyed but in reality he was still in a dazed, delirious state. His eyes flickered and he blinked slowly.

You raised a brow. "But you made a mess."

He whined again as he continued to cling to you. He seemed so tired that he could fall asleep like this, but not before giving you one last look of annoyance.

You pushed his face into the mess he left on you. "Yeah? See how you like it."

"Ew…! It's all sticky and warm..." he complained as he squirmed and tried to get away from you. He attempted to sound like he was annoyed, but his grin gave him away. He looked very proud of himself. "I'm so tired, just give me a break..." he whined, laughing.

"Clean it up and I'll be your pillow," you teased.

He gave up his attempt of being mad and he smirked a little bit, and his head bobbed as he tried to nod. "Ahhh... Fine, deal," he said with a grin.

His tongue darted out and he sleepily started to lap up the cum he left splattered across your chest. His tongue trailed across you, and he still had it in him to whine against you even as he complied. You cooed at him teasingly and kissed his forehead.

"Aw, there you go."

Satoru chuckled weakly, managing to gather enough energy to clean up the mess he had made. His movements were slow and lethargic, and his eyelids drooped as he worked on the task.

You watched him, a fond smile on your lips. "You're such a dork," you remarked.

"Mmm..." Satoru mumbled in agreement, finally finishing his task. He flopped back against you, a contented look on his face. "Pillow now?" he asked, a hopeful glint in his half-closed eyes.

You chuckled and shifted, allowing him to rest his head against your chest. He sighed in contentment, snuggling closer.

"There you go, sleepyhead. Rest up," you whispered, gently stroking his hair.

He mumbled something incoherent, already drifting off into slumber. You smiled down at him, feeling a warmth in your chest. The night had been a welcome plot twist, to say the very least.

a/n: listen- *grabs your face* listen to me: if you ever, for some godforsaken reason, see gojo satoru walking around, you better send him my way!!!! *shakes vigorously* OKAY????? okay. also, it lives rent free in my head that it is in fact canon that satoru is a lightweight + hates drinking. i will be taking advantage of this knowledge until my dying breath. P.S. I'm from the UK and drinking culture is wayyy diff here, and i have a high tolerance, so apologies if my descriptions of drinking do not match your experiences.

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

[mysicklove]

i had the most unhinged thought and raced to your inbox because i need this demon expelled from my body asap. hawks coming home from the worst day of patrol, everything went wrong and he had to speak up at a press conference, play the part of perfect, and all he wants is to melt into your touch. you can see it in his eyes, the dark circles, and the weary tilt of his smile. "baby bird," his voice is hoarse, "need you to hurt me tonight," so he can finally unravel. you're the only one he wants to be perfect for. okay goodbyeee 💀

𝐔𝐍𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐕𝐀𝐒

Pairing: Masochist! Hawks x Gn! Sadist! Reader

CW: face slapping, lots of blood, cock stepping, kicking, bruising, cock slapping, heavy degration, loss of air, mean reader, tons and tons of tears, scratching, mouth spitting, no mention of safe word but keep in mind it is there !!!

A/N: anon im sorry i totally changed ur thing, i just saw masochist hawks and sprinted. the demons wrote this, not me. dont look at me everyone. HEED THE TAGS

it was a way to blow off steam. something that he looks forward to, just some time where he doesn't have to think anymore. only feeling he has the stinging sensations and the tears that prick his eyes. it was an embaressing obsession he had. he loved pain.

Keigo walks to the bedroom, his hero costume tattered, and dark circles under his eyes. he is exhausted, but coming to you for your touch. pulling you close to him, and mumbling into your neck how bad he wants you to hurt him. till he bruises and bleeds. till every thought just disappears except for you.

and so you pull away, and slap him. it makes him tumble backward, and his yellow glasses fall off. he touches the tingling feeling on his face, blood spilling out from the skin caught on your wedding ring. you dont let up, sending another loud smack across his face, and this time he does fall to the ground, landing on his ass.

tears prick at his eyes, and he can feel his lip tear open. the taste of blood coats his mouth and he gulps, looking up at you for more.

he feels your foot jab onto his clothed cock and he keens, wincing up at you. "w-wait," he stutters, throwing his head back when your press even harder. "fuck!"

"wait? you want me to wait? after you begged for it like a dog?" he is squirming under you, tears now streaming down his face as you dig your foot into his pants.

"'m sorry. sorry—you are going to kill me!" he pleads, hands trying to dig themself into the carpet to fight back against the pain.

you sigh, and let up, instead using your foot to push at his chest, causing him to fall over and onto his back. "take off your clothes, Keigo," you mumble, taking a seat on the bed with crossed legs and staring down at him.

"okay. okay. I will. Just give me a minute!" he pants, tearing off his jacket and shirt as fast as he can. he knows something is coming, you werent playing nice.

you dont give him enough time, he reaches for his pants, and without hesitation you slam your foot into his stomach. he goes tumbling backwards and lands on his side, curling into a ball and panting. his eyes are wide and he is gripping onto his adomen. it surely will leave a huge bruise tomorrow. but thats not what he is worried about, he cant breathe.

"awww, did you get the wind knocked out of you? that's what happens when you move too slow," you tease, as you take in his appearance. he trembles in front of you, looking up at you in fear. tears drip down his cheeks and onto the ground, as he tries and fails to catch his breath.

you giggle at him, padding over to him. he flinches at the footsteps, bracing himself for another kick, but you just begin to unbutton his pants, pulling them down. "useless thing, arent you. cant follow any directions," you coo, now tearing off his boxers.

his cock springs out, tip red and leaking pre cum. "such a pervert! you sick fuck, keigo. who gets hard from getting beat?" you land another slap to his thigh, and his whole body jerks.

you smile at the red handprint, glancing back at him to see him beginning to drool. its coated red from the blood from his cheek and lip. he's is still heaving from the kick, eyes wide, and body gasping for oxygen.

"say Hawks do you get turned on when you are losing against villains? pop a boner like a freak for anyone who hits you?"

his eyes flash to you and he is shaking his head desperately. his words are breathless, "no. no. 'm not a freak!"

a quick, but harsh slap to his cock. he jumps again, globs of tears falling quicker. "fuckkkkk," he whimpers, shaking his head back and forth. his whole body shakes, and fingers dig into his own skin.

"you liar! do you want to be kicked again?"

"no no no no. im sorry. im sorry! im a freak. a pervert who likes to get hit. im sorry," he sobs, reaching for your ankle for comfort. you slap it away and he hisses, rubbing the back of it with a sniffle.

but you smile at him and lean over to sit on his chest. his head is still lolled to the side and his body racks with sobs. "shhhhhhh. so whiny Keigo. thanks for admitting it. my disgusting pervert. here, a reward."

you grab his face, hard enough to bruise, and force him to look up at you. his eyes are half shut in a wince, but he tries to force them open to look at you. you pry his mouth open, lean forward, and drop a glob of spit into his mouth.

he doesnt hesitate to swallow it, opening his mouth up again and sticking his tongue out to show you its gone. "th-thank you," he whimpers, and you smile fondly at him.

you hands trail up and down his down his body, sending vicicoius red raised scratchmarks along his pretty skin. "now, pervert....what should we do to this pretty canvas?"

he grins up at you, tears still dripping, and blood staining his cheeks and lips, but still stars in his eyes. "anything."

[anotherfcknschlattsimp]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (Sabrina reference😄) DO A FIC WHERE F!READER RUNS A DAYCARE AT HER HOUSE AND SHE CALLS SCHLATT FOR HELP BECAUSE THERES ALOT OF CHILDREN 🤟❤️

HI I HAD INSPIRATION STRIKE ME IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT, I TOOK YOUR IDEA AND RAN, I HOPE YOU ENJOY

also i never went to daycare so i just guessed about what happens there

youre usually busy on mondays, but tonight was even worse cause it was labor day and all the parents wanted to get together with their buddies and drink all day

you couldnt get s couple boys to behave and couldnt contact their parents, so you had to pull out your secret third option

"MIDDER SHAT!!!!" all the kids cheered as schlatt ducked into the almost-too-short door

he didnt usually hang out at the daycare house

he tells you it's cause he cant stand the kids, but really it's cause he needs about 2 months to recover from the baby fever of watching you work with so many young minds

but you need him today. aiden and braiden would not stop bickering and like hell were they gonna listen to the bubbly fun daycare worker

so he swung by to handle the boys and let the girls paint his nails and do his hair before Shootin Some Hoops with all the kids right before lunch

he read to the kids before naptime, and made cherry juice in water for kids that couldnt get to sleep easily (he memorised every form about every kid so he knew who was and wasnt allowed what)

sits with you and lets you rest your head on his shoulder as gentle music plays to lull the kids back to sleep if they wake up

"how ya doin toots?" he whispers to you

he waits a moment

you dont answer

he moves his head a bit to look at you

you were so exhausted that you fell asleep too

carries you to your naptime mat and tucks you in

he wakes you up right before it was time for the first kids to go home

you finally see that all of the kids enter their proper form of transportation, sighing as you feel the weight of the day on your shoulders

"i dont know what i wouldve done without you, how can i thank you enough for literally saving my booty today?" you fret

"you could marry me." he was still looking out at the street

"... what?" you inquire gently

"ya heard me," he got down on one knee and pulled out a box "let's start our own li'l family toots."

tag list: @xoxoave @sonnyjune @jschladderall @manticore-fangs

OKAY BEDTIME GN

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 08

Kinktober Masterlist ad vitam aeternam - "to eternal life" Johnny "Soap" MacTavish/141 x gn!reader Kinks > mind control, vampires, blood-sucking Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

The 141 vampire coven is terrorizing tiny villages in Northumberland, but you work nights and you really need this job. When a cute guy named Johnny offers to walk you home, you feel grateful for the free security. Unfortunately, you start feeling drowsy and confused. Where do you live, again? “It’s okay, bonnie. I’ll make sure you get there safe and sound.” 

No specific body traits or genitalia are mentioned. Gender neutral pronouns used. The only gendered nicknames are when Soap refers to the reader as "bonnie" or "hen" but no use of "lass" or "girl".

This work trip had definitely taken a turn. You’d expected to be at the north edge of England for about three weeks, but it was going on three months for this project with no end in sight. You were staying close to Northumberland National Park, helping map an updated migratory route for the bat colony that roosted on The Sill of Hadrian’s Wall. However, as animals often do, the bats made their own schedule for when they wanted to appear, and you hadn’t collected nearly enough data to feed to the tracker model. 

But, you weren’t complaining too loudly. Your cottage was located in a barely-there village called Elishaw, and it was as romantic as it could be. The only problem was that, after the evening sun set and the bats had all returned to their roosts, the closest place to get a pint was a three kilometer hike on a two lane road with no lights, signs, or footpaths. 

In the daytime, the view of the area was lovely. Rolling hills, black forests, and green sheep-dotted fields stretched out before you as far as the eye could see. Everyone who drove past you would wave, and you would wave back. It was lovely… when the sun was shining. But, now, as winter chased away the warmth of autumn, it brought grey clouds and a constantly setting sun, making the nights frigid and windy.

It was spooky the first time you’d gone at night, but now that you’d ripped off the proverbial bandage, the second time was no big deal. At this point, you’d been down to the Redesdale pub dozens of times, and you often walked alone, in the middle of the night, bundled up like an arctic explorer, drunker than you’d ever been.  

Tonight was one of those nights. 

“Are ye sure ye’ll be alright by yersel’, hen?” Thomas, the barkeep worried over you in his semi-local Berwickian accent.

“Yeah, Tom,” you smiled up at him, “I only had two pints. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be home before I know it.”

“There’s been talk of wild dogs takin’ to eatin’ the Kilpatrick’s sheep, Tom. ‘S not safe for a visitor to go alone, ye ken?” A man’s voice, Scottish instead of Northumbrian, piped up from the back of the bar. 

You hadn’t even realized there were other people with you and Tom. But, the grizzled barkeep smiled knowingly, 

“Ah, Johnny. Take ‘em back with ye, lad. Make sure ye get home safe and sound. I’ll worry the night away if ye dinnae go together.”

“No trouble, Tom. Headed that way, besides. C’mon, bonnie. Tha’s us, then,” Johnny paid for your tab and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading you out of the pub with a speed and ease that should have been alarming. 

But, you had to admit, it was nice to have an escort on your scary road for a change. 

Except… this wasn’t your road.

“Hey, I thought that was the way back there?” You pointed through the trees at the path you usually took, the one that was wide open and clearly visible, not the path through the dark forest.  

“Dinnae fash, yourself, bonnie. It’s a wee shortcut,” Johnny assured you. 

His smile was so easy to believe. The light that shone in his bright blue eyes was intoxicating, and his body was statuesque. He told you all about himself - the town he was from, where he went to school, how he was a sergeant in the RAF. It was fascinating. So thrilling, in fact, you came to your senses about thirty minutes into your trip, knowing you should be seeing landmarks, and yet you were even deeper in the woods than you’d been when you started. 

“You feelin’ alright, hen? Lookin’ a little puggled. Think you’ll make the trip, though. Just a bit further.”

“Where… um, where are… you… taking me?” Your words slurred together, and you felt like you were trapped between being awake and being asleep, knowing you couldn’t have drank enough to make you muddle your speech.

“Gonnae stop by my place for a moment,” Johnny pointed to a blackstone cairn that sat on the side of a hill, “Should only be a wee minute. Do ya wanna come in with me?”

When he asked you the last question, he made a point to make you meet his gaze, and when you did, his eyes invaded your mind. You felt as if you couldn’t look away, and the only word that could come out of your mouth was a yes. 

You didn’t want to go inside that creepy fucking cairn. There was no way this was actually his house. But, you followed him, your body putting one foot in front of the other without needing for your mind to be on board with the plan. 

“You ken,” he talked to you as he held your hand, “Tomorrow’s Samhain. Gonnae celebrate with a wee bonfire, maybe a few more drinks. Want me to tell my mates to set the table for one more?”

Again, your brain blanked out when you replied to him. Had you said yes again? What was happening to you?

Finally, you made it to the mouth of the cairn, and a crude wooden door blocked your entrance. Johnny pulled it open and held it for you, waving his hand in a ladies-first sort of sweep. You couldn’t help but obey. So, you walked into the dark stone hut, discovering that the inside was filled with flaming logs in a round well in the center and rows of lit candles surrounding the space. 

“Hey!” Johnny called out into the crude building, “We’ve got company, lads.”

Too quickly, three other men appeared in the room. You wanted to say that they walked or that they ran, but they didn’t. You could lie to yourself about that later, but you knew they had just suddenly fucking spawned there. Your body, however, failed to react in shock like you wanted to. 

They were gorgeous; just as handsome and well-muscled as Johnny, but their eyes seemed less kind. There was something predatory about their faces, especially the one with the beard. He seemed cold in a way that was beyond cruelty. It made you shiver more than the cold wind ever could. 

“Well done, Johnny,” the bearded one spoke, reaching out to stroke your cheek, “Such a pretty thing, hm?” 

You wanted to pull your face away from his touch, but your will was muted, your desire gone, and your sense of self-preservation completely absent from your mind. The only thing you could still do, it seemed, was speak to them. But, even then, it was hard to form the words. 

“Johnny asked me to come for dinner. I hope that I’m not intruding,” you went for politeness over screaming your bloody head off. No one would hear you all the way out here anyway. Maybe if you were nice to them, they’d let you leave.

“Not at all, love,” the bearded one said again, taking your coat from your shoulders and tossing it down on a chair. 

You felt Johnny’s lips begin to trail their way up your neck as he stood behind you. He was kissing you with a hot passion, his teeth dragging across your smooth flesh. Then, his hands reached around to grope your chest, fondling your nipples under your shirt, pinching them in his hands cruelly.

“How could you intrude?” The tall, Black man replied, his teeth straight and sharp and gleaming in the low light of the room, “Guests are always welcome here, especially when they smell as delicious as you do.” 

“Besides,” his gigantic, blond friend responded, “You’re not here for dinner, love. You are dinner.”

As you saw the fangs drop into the hollow of the blond’s mouth, you felt Johnny’s set on your neck. He bit down into you and began to suck from you, taking gulps of your hot, crimson blood down his throat. It felt orgasmic, but there was something so very wrong about it, too. A dying part of you was yelling at you to run, but that voice was muted by the urgency of your pleasure.

Then, panic welled up in your chest. Who were these men? How did you get here? You needed your phone, something, anything to call the emergency line and get the cops over here. 

Yet, you were motionless. Your brain felt like it had finally been washed away to a blank, empty slate. It was painful to be drained from your neck and wrists and, now, from your chest as the immense blond lifted your shirt to suckle from your flesh, biting into your nipple with his two, long fangs, and draining your life from you. But, you let him. You let all of them feed and fondle you. You were in their thrall, and there was no escape.

You felt tears roll down your cheeks as you realized you weren’t going home again. You were prey to a coven of vampires, and you’d be lucky if they just killed you quickly rather than prolonged your life. 

Johnny shoved his hand down the front of your pants and began to play with your sex, moaning when he found its warmth. He pulled his mouth away from his meal for a moment and asked a question to the man with the beard.

“Can we keep this one, sir? Tastes too damn good.”  

“Aye, Johnny,” his leader told him, lifting your chin with his thick finger, “The ritual’s tomorrow, and I know you’ve been a good lad. So, just this once, we can keep ‘em.”

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Moonbound

werewolf oc! Ezra x gn! reader

tags/warnings- monster fuckers, werewolf x human, transformation, full moon werewolfs, preexisting relationship, full moon ritual, mild body horror, restraint, shy werewolf boy

The moon was rising slowly over the horizon, casting an eerie glow that bathed the room in silvery light. You could feel the tension building in the air, the telltale sign that tonight was going to be rough. ezra sat at the edge of the bed, his hands trembling in his lap, eyes fixed on the floor. His breathing was uneven, shallow with anxiety, and you could see the subtle twitch in his muscles as he fought to keep control.

You stood beside him, your heart aching at the sight of him struggling. ezra had always been gentle and shy, a man whose words were few but meaningful when spoken. But when the full moon came, everything changed. He wasn’t himself — the beast within him took over, wild and dangerous. Tonight was no different, and as much as it hurt to do it, you both knew what had to be done.

"It's okay, ezra," you whispered softly, kneeling in front of him so you could look into his eyes. "I’m here."

He raised his gaze to meet yours, his soft brown eyes clouded with fear and shame. “I hate this part,” he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you. Or anyone.”

You reached out and took his hands in yours, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms. His fingers twitched but he held onto you like a lifeline. “You won’t hurt me,” you said, your voice steady and calm. “I know you, ezra. You’re stronger than this.”

His jaw clenched as he shook his head. "I can feel it… it’s getting worse. I can’t control it when the change starts." His breath hitched, panic edging into his voice. "You should leave. You should—"

"ezra," you interrupted gently, squeezing his hands. "I’m not going anywhere. We’ve done this before, remember? We’ll get through it, just like always."

He looked at you, searching your face for any sign of doubt, but you knew he wouldn’t find any. You had been through this together enough times to know what was coming. The fear, the aggression, the need to lock him away until the worst of the night passed. But through it all, you never stopped loving him, never stopped seeing the kind man he was beneath the curse.

"I trust you," you continued, brushing a thumb over his knuckles. "And I’ll be here to make sure everything’s safe."

ezra swallowed hard, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don’t deserve you," he whispered.

"Don’t say that," you replied, standing up and gently guiding him to his feet. "You deserve love, ezra. And I’m going to remind you of that, even when things get tough."

The chains were already prepared, hanging from the heavy metal loops embedded in the bedroom wall. You hated using them, hated the way they looked so out of place in the cozy room you both shared. But they were necessary, especially when ezra was on the verge of losing control. The full moon brought out the worst of his condition, and if the chains were what kept him and everyone else safe, then so be it.

As you led him to the wall, you could feel his body starting to tremble more violently. His breathing grew more ragged, and his skin was flushed with heat. The transformation was beginning.

"I’m sorry," he rasped, his voice breaking as the first wave of pain hit him. "I’m so sorry."

You moved quickly, fastening the chains around his wrists and ankles with practiced care, making sure they were secure but not too tight. He grunted, his muscles straining against the growing pressure of the change, but you kept whispering to him, soothing him with your words.

"You’re so strong, ez’," you murmured, brushing a hand through his dark, sweat-dampened hair. "You’ve got this. You’re not alone. I’m here."

His breaths came out in ragged gasps now, his body convulsing as the wolf fought to break free. You stepped back, giving him space, but you never stopped talking.

"You’re doing so well, love," you praised, your voice low and steady. "I know it hurts, but you’re not the monster you think you are. You’re my ezra. My kind, sweet ezra."

His head snapped back, his eyes glowing an unnatural yellow as the wolf took over, but even then, you saw the flicker of recognition in his gaze. The chains rattled as he strained against them, skin splitting to form thick hair, muscles bulging and teeth elongating into fangs. But through it all, you stayed calm, keeping your voice gentle.

"You’re still you," you whispered, staying just out of reach. "No matter what, I see you, ezra. I love you. I’m proud of you."

A deep, guttural growl ripped from his throat, but you weren’t afraid. You had seen this before, felt the raw power of the transformation. But you also knew that deep down, ezra was still in there, fighting to stay in control.

The hours passed slowly, the moon climbing higher into the sky as ezra’s form twisted and contorted, the beast taking full control. The chains held, and you stayed close, whispering soft reassurances into the night.

By the time dawn broke, the worst of it was over. ezra hung limp in the chains, his body battered and exhausted from the transformation. You moved quickly to release him, catching him as he slumped into your arms. He was weak, but he was himself again — the shy, soft-spoken ezra.

"how you holding up, love?" you whispered, holding him close as his breathing steadied. "You made it through."

He didn’t have the strength to reply, but the way he clung to you said enough. You kissed his temple softly, your heart swelling with love and pride. No matter how many full moons came and went, you would always be there for him.

And he would always be yours.

[frickingnerd]

hold me in your arms tonight

pairing: aerith gainsborough x gn!reader

summary: when sharing a bed with aerith, you try to do the right thing and give her space. but aerith wants you as close to her as possible…

tags: there's only one bed, tiny bit of angst (awkward!reader), silly & wholesome fluff, suggestive (hints at smut), friends to lovers

“you should take the bed, you need it more than me!”

“no, if anyone takes the bed, it should be you!”

that's how it had all started.

aerith and you had been paired up in an inn, unaware that the room you had to share didn't have two single sized beds, but instead one double bed.

you were quick to suggest you'd take the floor and aerith could have the bed. but all that ended up in was the two of you both wanting to take the floor and let the other one have the bed. until eventually, you had to agree that the smartest thing to do would be sharing the bed…

“i hope… this isn't too awkward for you.” you mumbled into your pillow, as you practically hugged the edge of the bed.

you really tried to leave aerith as much space as she needed, not even wanting to touch her. you tried to avoid doing anything that could make her uncomfortable, which included touching her or even looking at her!

“n-no, i don't mind…!” aerith assured you. there was a small smile that hushed over her lips, as she buried her face in her own pillow.

sharing a bed with you was kinda exciting for her. to be so close to the person she liked was like a dream come true. if this would end like in a romance novel, she might even get to wake up cuddled against you in the morning.

but for now, aerith tried to hide her excitement…

“i just… hope this won't happen again.” you sighed quietly. “we should be more careful when booking a room next time…”

there was a moment of silence. you could hear aerith shift around next to you, lightly pulling on the blanket in the process. and then, she spoke up:

“is it… really that bad to share a bed with me?”

aerith sounded almost sad. like you had offended her by showing what she perceived to be disappointment or disgust to be so close to her.

“wha– n-no, of course not!”

you quickly assured her, even turning around to face her. only that aerith had inched closer towards you while you weren't looking and was now face to face with you. you could feel her leg brush up against yours and you nervously averted your gaze.

“i– i don't really mind sharing a bed with you. in fact… i suppose i'd rather be with you than anyone else. it's just… i don't want to make you uncomfortable! so i'm trying to stay away from you…”

when you dared to look at aerith again, a small smile covered her lips. when your eyes met, she slowly inched a little closer, until your bodies were pressed against each other.

“i don't want you to stay away from me…” aerith whispered, close enough to you that she was sure you'd hear it.

“o-oh… o-okay…” you whispered dumbfounded, a little overwhelmed by this revelation. but slowly, you wrapped an arm around aerith, hoping she wouldn't see you blushing in the darkness.

“then i suppose… i won't stay away from you anymore…”

[snowyquokka]

DRAINED

bf felix x gn reader

cw: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of anxiety, stress, crying, fluff (maybe?), swearing, overworked felix, shitty grammar

wc: 0.6k

a.n - my first attempt at hurt/comfort. did i do well? <3

dont hate me but i think i prefer writing angst rather than anything else

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Felix sighs and all but throws himself on top of you as you sit on the couch. “Hi, baby.” you giggle as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

“What’s the matter, Sunshine?” you say as you run your fingers through his soft blonde hair.

“Exhausted, overwhelmed, sad,” he lists against your neck. You always feel bad when he comes home from the studio or after he’s toured. Your boyfriend is constantly tiring himself, working as hard as he possibly can. You wish he would take care of himself once in a while. Felix says that’s what you’re for anyways.

You press a kiss to his temple and hum.

“Why are you sad, love?” He sighs and snuggles closer to you.

“I kept fucking up my part. Redid it five times.” you can feel him pout. Another example of him pushing himself to his limits is when he frustrates himself to the point where nothing satisfies him. He could go hours with many fantastic takes but will insist on retrying it until it’s absolutely perfect.

“I’m sure you did amazing,” Felix squeezes you tighter and inhales deeply.

“‘m sorry,” he says, breaking the comfortable silence. You pull back enough to be able to see his face. He has no makeup on, his freckles on full display. Sometimes when you’re bored you’ll pretend like they’re constellations and connect them in your head.

“Sorry for what, Lix?”

“For bothering you with this kinda stuff. It's not important and I don't want to worry you.” Your heart plummets down to the floor.

“Why wouldn’t it be important to me, love? If you’re upset, I’m upset. Your problems are mine.” you kiss his forehead softly. Felix shifts in your arms so he’s at eye level.

You hold his hands while you watch a single tear stream down his cheek. He immediately wipes it away and displays a small, but not reassuring, smile.

“Thank you,” he sniffles and leans his forehead against yours.

“Of course, Sunshine. I’m always going to be here.”

TWO DAYS LATER

You’re sitting in bed watching a random movie when your phone dings.

my only sunshine <3: im gonna be a little late tonight

my only sunshine <3: im sorry. i love you ❤️

you: its okay baby. let me know when ur on ur way !! i love you too

You sigh and lock your phone. It’s not like you’re mad at him or anything of that sort. It’s just difficult watching him drain himself again and again. No matter what you say, he always goes back to overworking himself.

Tears that you hadn’t noticed were brimming fall down your cheeks. You turn everything off and close your eyes, inhaling Felix’s scent from the pillows.

You wake to the sound of the front door closing and glance at the alarm clock,

5:08am

Fuck. Is he just getting home?

You climb out of bed and wander into the living room where you find your boyfriend sitting with his face in his hands, he immediately notices you. He had turned the small lamp in the corner on, allowing you to take in his disheveled state.

His long blonde hair tousled from his fingers being ran through it. His eyes bloodshot from what seemed like hours of crying and lack of sleep. His hands shake and his leg bounces up and down in an anxious manner.

“Baby?” you whisper with worry laced in your voice prompting Felix’s body to almost automatically rack with sobs. You quickly pull him into you and wrap your arms around his figure, the only sound present in the room being both of your cries blended together.

tags: @godslino

divider: @chaeneuu

[shibaraki]

REDAME ┊ BAKUGO KATSUKI

tags: NSFT, GN reader, pro hero bakugo, friends with benefits, demisexual bakugo, mutual pining, implied cockwarming, angsty kinda, ur both idiots you love each other sm

wc: 1k

You’re close enough to memorise the laughter lines on Katsuki’s face. You do so with a fingertip, careful and deliberate in your strokes, and the lines deepen when he squeezes his eyes shut as if in pain.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” he rasps, relaxing in small increments, “Yeah, ‘course”.

This thing you do together—sex, your mind supplies; you fuck each other—is never planned, or spoken of. How could words of any kind make it past your throat after seeing the regret set in his expression. And it’s not worse because you love him. It’s worse because he’s good to you. Worse because in the moment, as his fingers slide through your own, palm to palm, and he fucks up into you, you can imagine that he loves you too.

And he does care for you in his own way. Katsuki isn’t the type to sleep with anyone untethered. Years ago, before you first fell into bed together, you’d slipped away from some stuffy hero commission event to curl up together on the balcony, and he told you, tipsy and honest, that he needs a connection first.

For Katsuki, connection it’s a rare and fickle thing. So you count yourself lucky. You do. He comes to you in need of something, reassurance or affection or just an ear to listen and the atmosphere gradually grows bowstring taut, your gravities crashing together with a soft snap. Like it’s inevitable. You’re helpless to it. You’ve made a habit of one another, and you can’t turn him away no matter the ache his expression leaves you with at the end.

Atleast he stays. The way he lets you hold him eases some of the sting. Sometimes he will turn and push his back further into your chest, until you’re pressed together like the pages of a book. There you can brush a kiss to the nape of his neck, and the skin where his shoulder meets his throat, and your hand can lay flat over the scar on his chest, thankful.

Tonight he did not turn. After you both caught your breath his muscled arms slipped up and around your waist and the room tilted as he laid you on your side to face him. Head pillowed by his bicep, thigh thrown over his hip, held in the cradle of his lap, he’s soft but inside you still.

You breathe through the tingle in your belly, and at the base of your spine. It’s wet between your thighs but not unpleasant yet. His thumb strokes back and forth across your hip.

The tension in his brow smooths out. His eyelids are open a crack, slowly daring to look back at you. The moon halos his hair, and illuminates his face for you to see. Light caught in his irises as though they were stained glass. Half-awake, time stretches thinly over your little corner of the universe. When you’re coiled together like this reality feels like a suggestion.

Katsuki can’t physically purr but it’s a close thing. He watches with an expression you’re sure mirrors your own as you shuffle closer, until your nose bumps his. The finger dancing across his cheek stops, the rest unfurling to cup his jaw.

You use the last of your energy to move forward and brush your lips to his. There’s a soft intake of air. He leans into it, gentle and without underlying intent. It becomes two when you draw back and his grip keeps you still, keeps you where you are, and he kisses you again.

“Katsuki,” you murmur, threading fingers through his hair. He shivers as you lightly scratch his scalp. He’s warmer, the flush on his cheeks one of contentment instead of panic. Something all encompassing swells in your chest. You look down and find you’re on the precipice, where every encounter leads. The decision of whether or not to speak, take the leap and shatter the illusion you have crafted together over the past few months.

It’s all there. I love you. Do you know that? You love me. What are we doing? Why do you look so hurt? Where do we go from here?

Instead you tell him, “I’m going to miss you while you’re away”.

Katsuki grumbles a bit, turning to nip at your cheek and your lips. “You’ll see me in a few days,” he says, as if that makes it any better. His arm grows tighter around your back, arching you against his front. He noses at your jaw, pleased when you tilt, giving him more space to mark. You smile under his steadfast affection.

Fingers curl at the base of his skull. You play with the soft hair on his neck. “…Will you miss me?” you dare to ask.

Quick enough to miss, you feel him freeze for a split second. He swallows. Lifts his head, reclining back on the pillow while his hand sweeps along your body. There’s that sharp gleam in his eyes, the one he gets when he’s trying to pick something apart. His fingers stop and hook behind your knee bent over his hip and he hikes it up further.

“I will,” he says. What a stupid question, you hear, like it was matter of fact. Earth will orbit round the sun, the moon around the earth, and Katsuki will miss you. Obviously.

Following the pattern, your resolve crumbles. You tell yourself this is as far as you’ll go. That you don’t want to push, because whatever it is you’re forming with Katsuki is delicate, intricate, in need of patience. You kiss him again, watch as he succumbs to sleep and decide it’s enough.

Because Katsuki—he always comes back. You’ll always have another chance.

Right?