#pounding this into my own brain tbh

[cane-goth]

Pain is hard to deal with. It’s not wrong or bad or selfish to feel angry or depressed or to grieve.

You’re not a bad person for having a lower tolerance for things that annoy and irritate you when your pain is flaring.

You’re not a bad person for having little to no libido when your pain is flaring.

You’re not a bad person for expressing you are in pain and discomfort, even if you’ve done it “too much” according to the mean voice in your head.

Be patient with yourself and give yourself the space to safely experience the mental toll chronic pain takes on you.

[heian-era-housewife]

Sex, Smut, & Scuttlebutt

Lately I've seen a growing number of virgins, "new-cummers", and even seasoned sex vets voicing their concerns or frustrations with the unrealistic portrayal of sex within smut. Adult fictions are so fun to read and write and even more fun to act out in real life (with a trusted partner), but they are fiction. Quite often exaggeratedly so and in no way representative of what really goes on behind closed doors, or open (you do you babes).

Nevertheless these concerns and frustrations are real, they are valid, and they deserve to be acknowledged. And so, without further ado, I present to you the very real, very raw, and sometimes very unsexy side of sex.

(Though tbh nothing Ryomen Sukuna does could ever be categorized as 'unsexy')

Love to you all, no matter your experience 😘

Pairings | Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Higuruma, Toji, and of course Sukuna 💕

Content | mdni, smut, fem!reader x jjk men, piv, oral (both f-to-m and vice versa), pubes, blood, sex on period, first time, Toji eats a worm. It's fine. Don't worry about it.

Word Count | 3.3k

Gojo:

White Hair...Everywhere

You've been ignoring it for a while now. Well...trying to anyway. The faint tickle on the back of your tongue has grown into a sharp pinprick that jabs at your throat with each bob of your head. It's uncomfortable, it's distracting, and worst of all it is threatening to trigger your gag reflex.

Gojo gasps and whimpers, long fingers running through your hair, pulling you toward him as he edges closer to his climax. It's all you can do to focus on the task at hand when his sudden thrusts render the job impossible. You gag and sputter against the source of your irritation, eyes streaming as you pull away from his hungry cock. 

Confusion and poorly concealed dissapointment in his words of longing barely register as you wretch, two of your own fingers stuffed to the back of your throat. 

You turn to meet his eyes with yours still streaming as you reveal the cause for disruption. With your middle and index finger you pull a long, coiled, pure white hair from deep within your throat. 

"I think this belongs to you," you tease, wiping drool from your chin and flicking the stray pube his direction.

"Oof. My bad," he squirms, one hand sheepishly rubbing against his undercut. 

"Shall we resume?" You offer with a playful smile, making a show of patting away his snowy bristles before taking his twitching length back into your mouth.

"Phewww!" He whistled. "I thought for a second sexy time was over!"

"It wiw be ith you don' shu-up," you mocked, mouth full and voice muffled. You reached a hand around to give one of his ass cheeks an impish squeaze for good measure. Gojo laughed playfully before falling back into a steady rythm of whines and whimpers.

Geto:

Welcome to the Jungle

Unwaivering confidence was one of the things you loved so much about Suguru Geto. On a scale of 1-10 his sex appeal was an 11 and you were about to find out for yourself exactly why he was so damn self-assured.

You, on the other hand, couldn't help but obsess over all your flaws and imperfections. Your outfits, those stretch marks, and was that =sniff, sniff= body odor?? 

But this was not the time to get lost in insecurity because you were perched pretty as a peach on his apartment sofa while Suguru stood, hastening to undo his belt, never once relinquishing that calm and cocky smile.

You gazed at him loftily, cheeks growing flushed, heart pounding in your ears. Your groin ached with longing as he stripped down to plain black boxer briefs and reached forward to help you down to bra and panties. Nerves and excitement churned in your core creating a volitile compound that set your heart ablaze. It was all too good to be real.

Finally, he guided your hands toward his own hips, placing them on the hem of his boxers, inviting you to remove his final garment.

Your brain buzzed with electric anticipation as you pulled downward, revealing that which, until this moment, you had only imagined. 

And there it was. 

And there you were.

Your buzzing brain cutting to standby as static filled your senses and every decision you'd ever made leading to this exact point in time sent you into a hurling spiral of doubt and regret.

Because Geto had shaved.

And you had not. 

Not now...not ever. Frankly, it hadn't even occured to you before. 

Insecurities came flooding in causing you to lose yourself entirely until the gentle touch of his strong hand on your pantyline dragged you forcefully back to your grim reality.

"NO!" You shrieked, pulling frantically from his reach. 

"Oh! Have I hurt you?" He asked with concern as you wished with every fibre of your being for a quick and painless death. 

"It's just...you're so pretty," you breathed, lip almost trembling as you spoke.

"I'm glad you think so," he said, cocky little smile returning to his perfect playboy face.

"And I'm...well..." you slipped off your own panties awkwardly, revealing a lush and uncut jungle, knowing you were already past the point of no return.

"You're.....?" Suguru prompted.

"I'm...you know...this!" You gestured to your unkempt garden.

"You're...female?" He finished, confused.

"NO!" He was missing the point. "I'm a gross unshaven mess! And you're...what? The centerfold of next month's Playgirl?"

Geto laughed, much louder than you expected, snorting as he did so. "That's what you're worried about??"

"That and a million other things...yeah!" You sulked, tears brimming your lashes as you slumped, defeated against the sofa.

"Come here," he said, pulling you close, forgetting entirely about his unclothed state. "I think you're sexy just the way you are. And, if I'm being honest, shaving is a real pain in the ass anyway."

Giggling to yourself, you watched as his impressive length grew soft and diminished as his arousal shifted to concern for you. 

"Hey!" He objected, throwing a pillow over his lap. "He was just worried about you, give him a minute," he teased.

Both of you laughed as you snuggled on the couch together, sharing doubts and insecurities, reassuring one another, and settling in for a long night. One full of love making that was sure to be genuine, sometimes awkward, but far better than any magazine.

Nanami:

Corporate Cock Block

Nanami was pent up. Not only had he been called on a particularly large number of missions this week, he'd been forced into overtime nearly every day. Now that he was home, he was desperately looking forward to nothing more than dissolving in your arms and seeing where the night might take you both.

Needless to say, he was more than thrilled when you suggested skipping dinner and going straight for dessert. That's right. You were pretty pent up yourself. And who was he to deny his pretty and incredibly patient wife what she needed?

"Thank you-hah-for being so-mhh-understanding this-hahhh-week", he breathed through passionate kisses, slipping off his suspenders and tossing his goggles to the side.

Movements punctuated by more steamy kisses, you helped him take off his tie and belt while he worked his fingers up and under your shirt to skillfully unsnap your bra.

He backed you down the hall and together you fell onto the bed, both panting in excitement as clothing fell hastily to the floor.

Just then, the phone rang. His phone. Illuminated harshly against the evening's fading light revealing none other than Satoru Gojo as the caller. Nanami went rigid.

"Hun," you said softly, "it's okay if you need to-"

"No." He asserted, cutting you off. "He's had enough of my time. I'm off the clock and I'm spending this evening with my wife."

The seriousness in his tone was all you needed to know it was case closed, so as he let it go to voicemail, the two of you resumed your game of lips and hands.

Time passed, Nanami was absolutely aching for you, and you were practically trembling in anticipation. As he lined himself up, you closed your eyes ready to melt at the feeling of him entering your throbbing core. And that's when it happened. Again. The name "Satoru Gojo" shone through the darkness as Nanami's phone lit up your room.

"I'm going to kill him," Nanami said calmly, head hanging in frustration as he imagined all the ways he could cleave his obnoxious coworker in a perfect 7:3 ratio.

"Kento..." you whispered, bringing him back to reality. "I really don't mind if you need to-"

"Absolutely not! This is our time. You and me."

"But what if he needs-"

"There is nothing he could need from me that is more important than what's right in front of me," voice dripping with sincerity.

"I love you, Ken."

"I love you too. Truly," he replied. "Shall we?"

Picking up where you left off, he gave himself a few quick strokes before plunging deep into your core. Tension and relief unraveling as he worked his strong hips passionately between your shaking legs.

***

As the love making continued, a new tension was building within both of you and Nanami could feel himself reaching his climax, breaths coming sharp and shallow as he felt his nearing release.

"Im so close," He breathed.

"Me too, baby," you gasped.

And then...

=RINGGGGGG=

Nanami cracked.

Snapping up his phone while pounding the ever-loving life out of you, you heard his voice loud and hostile as he snarled into the speaker.

"Satoru Gojo, so help me God I have half a mind to cut you down where you stand. Do you know how long I've waited to FUCK my WIFE?! How many nights this week I had to give up SEX with HER just to follow your sorry ass around chasing curses and cleaning up the FILTH of this city?! I was about to give her one SPECIAL GRADE, MIND-BLOWING ORGASM before you-" he stopped thrusting, blood draining from his face, feral sneer dropping into a hollowed out look of utter humilation.

"Principal Yaga I- of course, sir, I'm so sorry...Yes..yes..right away. I understand. Again, I'm so- no of course not. I appreciate your discretion...I'll see you soon...bye."

Your eyes widened in horror as you listened to his conversation, unsure which end was worse.

"I..uh...I have to go. I'm needed at the school," he muttered sheepishly, unable to meet your shocked gaze.

"Yeah, I gathered that," you said with a nervous laugh.

You helped him get dressed, giving him a tight hug and wiping the beading sweat off his brow as he stumbled back out the door.

"Kento!" You called as he headed in the direction of the school. He turned to look at you, defeat written in his tired features. "Come home safe, okay?"

"Of course, love," he rasped, weakly.

"You still owe me that 'special grade, mind-blowing orgasm'," you teased with a wink.

Shaking his head, you heard him laugh as he hurried toward his next mission.

Higuruma:

Erection Overruled!

Hiromi's long week has finally drawn to an end and as your tired and more-than-likely dishevelled man makes his way home to slump into his favorite chair and fall asleep, you want to make sure he gets to finish the week out properly. You've spent the afternoon hard at work yourself, cleaning up, picking just the right music, and slinking in to that silky little black robe you know he loves slipping you out of.

The mood is set, candles are lit, and as if on cue Higuruma stumbles in through the front door, dropping his briefcase, and sagging languidly into his favorite chair. You approach from behind, running fingers through his dark and unkempt hair, tipping his head back with a provocative "Welcome home," allowing him to savor the view.

Experience tells him there's not a thing beneath that robe and his eyes grow wide and hungry as he scrambles to his knees, facing backward in his chair to take you in. He burries his nose against you as he presses passionate kisses to your collarbones, moving to nip at your neck, trailing his tongue upward and landing just below your earlobe before whispering , "I've waited all week for this."

One very steamy makeout session later, you find yourselves in the bedroom, working quickly to remove each other's clothing, air thick with ravenous longing. But as you slip him out of his trousers taking his not even half-hard cock into your loving hands, things start to feel a bit off.

Nothing a few good strokes can't fix, you think to yourself, stealing a downward glance at his would-be errection-  flaccid, but hopeful.

~

Some time later there's still little change in terms of rigidity and you notice the exhaustion building behind his determined features. Knowing his pride is at stake, you start to wonder if it might just be best to let your tired man rest and resume love making another time. Opting for a mix of tact and humor, you make the judgement call.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the court, I move to postpone today's proceedings until the defendant can get some well-deserved and very much needed rest."

Hiromi's eyes snap open. "Objection!" He barks automatically, surprising himself.

"Overruled!" You reply, tapping his tip once against his tummy as though holding a gavel. 

A moment of silence as you stare at each other seriosuly and then...

"PFFFTTT!" You both burst out laughing at the ridiculous scene. He pulls you in for more kisses and you lay together wiping tears from your eyes as the laughter continues. 

Turning on his side he offers, "Motion to reconvene tomorrow morning?"

"Motion granted!"

More laughter. A heavy sigh and then, "Thanks for understanding," he says.

"Impartiality is my job, afterall," you continue the act. 

Pulling your head to his chest he scruffles your hair until you fight him off, giggling. 

This isn't the first and probably won't be the last time your romantic pursuits as a couple are thwarted by exhaustion, but you know that with a little patience and a good night's sleep he'll be a different man come morning, when your courtship is back in session.

Choso:

Shark Week 

Choso's not just new to sex. He's new to life itself. Loving him brings you the unique opportunity of experiencing the world for the very first time through his eyes. 

The eldest of his brothers, he's already learned so much, but he still relies on you to guide him through his many firsts as both a lover and a mentor for all of life's unexpected moments- the good, the bad, and the painfully awkward. 

That is why, when you hear a sharp, panicked little gasp as he pulls out of you, dick still twitching from his orgasm just moments before, you suspect you are in for another brand new encounter.

"What's a'matter Cho?"

"Uhm..." He swallows hard, eyes trained downward. "It's...it's not there."

"What's not there?" You question, sitting up against your elbows trying to glimpse whatever it is he's staring at.

"The condom," He says weakly, mouth going dry. "It's just gone!"

"Ohh!" You reach a knowing hand between your legs. "It probably just came off inside me."

"Is that bad?!" He asks, voice thick with worry.

"Not necessarily. You can probably just pull it out if it's right there."

He slides two hesitant fingers over your entrance, feeling for the rubbery traitor that's caused him such distress. 

"Oh! I found it!" He sighs, relieved, pulling it gently from your core.

"See? Nothing to worry abou-"

"OH NO!" He cries, forcing you to sit up in alarm.

"What's wrong? Is it ripped?"

"You're bleeding! There's-" He looks as though he might pass out. "There's so much!"

"What?! I-" Realzation hits you as he holds up the stretched out condom, slick with glossy crimson. Feeling between your legs, you pull your hand away, stringy and viscous from a mix of blood and fresh arousal. 

"Oh Cho I'm sorry. I think I started my-"

"I can't believe I hurt you! I thought I was being gentle! Maybe it's my cursed technique?? No...that can't-" 

"Cho I-"

"I can fix it! Hang on let me just-"

"Choso!" He pauses his string of frantic babble to look at you. Deep lines etched across his troubled face. "Cho, I think I just started my period," You say, reaching your other hand to comfort your worried man.

"Oh. You mean 'shark week'?"

You laugh as he recalls the nickname you taught him for that notorious time of the month. "Yes hun, shark week."

"Was it...because of me?" He asks, eyes brimming with shame and guilt.

"No, my love!" You giggle at his innocence. "Just a coincidence. I'm sorry I scared you!"

A wave of relief washed over him as he clutched his chest, watching you get up and head toward the bathroom. 

"I thought maybe I broke you somehow..."

"I know, sweet boy," You called from the hall. "You did nothing wrong. But when I come back we're going to cuddle like there's no tomorrow!"

"That....sounds nice" he said with a sigh, collapsing backward on the bed, brain tired and foggy from the day's latest lesson. 

"Wait!" He called, suddenly excited. "Does this mean chocolate ice cream and movie night??"

"You really are a quick study!" You praise.

Running to grab the ice cream he calls, "I think I can get used to shark week!"

Toji:

Three's a Crowd

Toji is a lone wolf. An elusive rogue agent. He holds everyone at arm's distance, including you. That is...until recently, anyway.

What started as casual hookups in seedy bars and late-night love hotels, hell even the back of a cab once (actually maybe twice...you were rather drunk), has turned into pseudo dates and sober conversation. To be honest, you've fallen pretty hard for your man of mystery and the last thing you want to do is scare him off now. That's why, when he finally invites you to his place for the first time, you're determined not to blow it.

"It's not much, but it's home." He says, leading you through the front door of a shabby back-alley apartment. Despite his somewhat delinquent nature, his apartment is well-kept and the made-up bed you spot through an open door near the back looks far more inviting than the sleazy moth-eaten matresses and dive bar sofas where you've been spending your less-than-romantic moments.

Grabbing his hand, you practically drag him back there, excited to see where he lays his head at night, smell the cologne on his sheets. He stumbles behind, a goofy yet seductive grin stretching the scar on the corner of his lips that you're just dying to taste.

As you step into the darkened bedroom, a small sound grabs your attention. Atop the dresser something is breathing- sputtering. You pause, trying to get a look at the noise's source, realizing Toji must have a pet. Your heart skips as you imagine this macho miscreant returning home to a small, soft animal for whom he shares a rare bit of affection. Fucking adorable.

The creature, appearing only as a shapeless mound at first (is it a cat?) turns to look at you. And that's when you freeze. Because there in his room, peering at you through swollen, squinted eyes, frothy drool dribbling down its pudgy face, is a gigantic....worm???

"Toji!" You gasp, turning back to hide behind the muscular arm you're now grasping for dear life. "What the hell is that thing?!"

"Oh." He says curiously, "You can see it?"

"OF COURSE I CAN SEE IT, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! THING'S FUCKIN' HUGE!"

"Heh," he chuckles, amused. "It won't hurt ya. C'mere."

Without even another glance at the demonic creature, Toji pushes you against the bed, bringing his large frame down over you, rutting his hips as he feasts hungrily on your neck. You want to lose yourself in the throes of his passion, you really do. But all you can think about is the thing on the dresser. Turning under the weight of Toji's advances to see if it's still there, you find yourself making direct eye contact with the hideous overgrown catarpillar.

You can't believe he's not distracted. Can't believe he hasn't said a single word about the little drooling monster. And as Toji makes quick work of undressing while he hovers over you, you find yourself unable to contain your inner thoughts.

"Toji...it's so...long!" You say, eyeing the thing warily.

"Mm...I know, Doll," he agrees.

"I mean like...it's gigantic!" You mewl covering your eyes in disgust.

"Hah...so I've heard," he admits, slipping off your panties from beneath your skirt.

"And it...I don't know...it looks hungry. Like...it's about to tear me apart..."

"If that's what you want, love," he growls with a forward thrust.

"Seriously, Toji, I don't know if I can do this! It's just so gross!"

"...Gross?" He looks like he's been punched in the gut.

"Yeah! Gross and purple!"

"Purple?!" Pulling out, he stares down at his cock. "Fuck you mean, purple?!" Then, following your gaze he says, "You're not still on about that damn worm, are you??"

"What did you think I was talking about?!"

"Look, if it bothers you that much, I'll get rid of it." Without another word, he gets up from the bed, crosses the room to the dresser, takes the creature in his hands before crunching it down into a tiny ball and swallowing it whole.

"Now are we gonna get freaky or what?" He huffs.

Oh, we are wayyyy past freaky, you think to yourself.

Who the hell was this mysterious man of yours? You're left with more questions than answers. But despite the horror you just witnessed one thing has you smiling...arm's distance or not, you doubt very seriously anything you do could scare him off.

Sukuna:

Thousand-Year-Old Virgin

Sukuna is a hardened, battle-ready, godlike being of prowess and prestige, decorated by time itself. Stranger to no man and no challenge, his many achievements transcend the millenia. He has seen and done things even those with rich and deeply fulfilled lives will never experience.

Let's face it, he's a thousand fucking years old. So that's why, when he mumbled something under his breath, something you thought could only be some type of strange joke, you were too stunned to laugh. And the fact that you didn't is the only reason you're still alive. That, and he's fallen rather profoundly in love with you, but he won't be admitting to that any time soon.

So when he pulls away from your lips to stare sheepishly at his bare feet criss-crossed in front of him before uttering the words you're sure you must have heard wrong, you ask him to please repeat himself.

"I've never done this before..." he gruffs, crossing both sets of arms and averting his gaze to the side with a nose-crinkling sneer.

"Done...what?" You ask, innocently.

"This! All of this!" He barks, waving his arms in frustration.

Your brain is working overtime just to read between the lines. He's acting like it's obvious, but you can't understand which "this" he's referring to.

"I don't get what-"

"SEX OKAY!" He gruffs bitterly. "I've never had sex!"

You just stare. Lips parted slightly as your jaw hangs limp, still unsure you've heard him correctly.

"And would you stop looking at me like that??" He scowls.

"'Kuna, I...I don't know what to say."

"Yeah, well...neither do I," he admits, still avoiding your gaze.

"It's just that you're...a thousand years old...I guess I just figured in that time you would have-"

"I didn't get to where I am by running around like some dog in heat," he retorts. "I spent my time getting stronger, strategizing, honing my cursed technique. Then I was sealed away for a few hundred years. When the hell would I have-"

"I never thought of it like that. But I figured Heian Era and all, the 'King of Curses' must have had concubines, right?"

"Yeah? So? I had a bunch of that old-timey shit!" He spouted. You had to stifle a laugh this time. "Doesn't mean I cared. I was...you know...a little busy conquerring the world?"

It was beginning to sink in. The King of Curses, God of the Heian Era, the Great Ryomen Sukuna sat on a shelf like a minted doll for a thousand years, completely untouched, and you- little modern nobody you- were about to take his "v-card". You felt giddy.

"'Kuna," You began, reaching out to take his face in your hands, compelling him to look at you. He hissed as you did so. "Ryomen. We don't have to do this."

"No, I want-"

"If you really want to, that's fine. Just know that it's going to be messy. Probably a little awkward. Maybe a lot awkward! Heck, I don't even know what to do about the extra set of limbs and...appendages," You laughed, giving his thigh a squeaze. He rolled his eyes. You continued earnestly, "I just want you to know it's okay not to know it all- not to get everything perfect. That's where the trust comes in...and where the memories are made."

He heaved a deep sigh, turning away again as he became lost in thought.

"Hey, Ryo?"

"What, brat?"

"Thanks for waiting for me," you wink.

"Don't flatter yourself," he grumps, a rougey glow tingeing his cheeks.

"Of course not," you smile. Then, eyeing his extra arms you continue. "So I just have one question..."

"Speak."

"Will we need one condom, or two?"

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and reblogs always appreciated, but never expected.

MDNI banner credit to @cafekitsune

Special thanks to @heian-era-househusband for always listening to my stories and for being my trusted partner 💕

[deantfwinchester]

Neighborhood Walgreens

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader like always

This one takes place before the other two timeline-wise, I guess - just a few months into knowing each other. No established relationship, and some ridiculous flirting.

Summary: A busy, sick Joel gets a little care from the people in his life - including the neighbor and friend he's been crushing on for the past few months.

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff-fluffity-fluff. Bout to get a standing root canal appointment, tbh.

A/N: The bulleted fics are piling up in the notes app, but boy are the well-crafted girlies a bit of a trek. More to come, if the functioning part of my brain has anything to say about it.

Word Count: 5.9k. absolute unit.

——————————————————————————————

Joel wakes up feeling like shit. He’d felt a bit of a scratch in his throat the night before, but tried to write it off as allergies or something - until he woke himself up coughing before his alarm could even go off. He knows he has a cold the second he tries to breathe through his nose - no dice. His head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and it’s pounding before he can open his eyes. He shivers when he moves the blankets aside to get up, and each muscle in his body begs him to crawl back into bed.

Ever the trooper, he rises anyway, heading to the bathroom and checking the medicine cabinet to find what he’d feared - no cold medicine. Awesome. Resigning himself to trucking through the day, he blows his nose, pops a couple tylenol, and gets ready. His respiratory system isn’t too fond of the assault, however, and he’s coughing up a lung before he can finish. Today should be fun. He’ll need to stop by the drugstore on his way home. 

Once he’s dressed for the day (trying his best to look alive), Joel trudges down the stairs to see Sarah at the kitchen table, half-eaten bowl of cereal in one hand and a pencil in the other as she finishes the last of her homework. She hears him shuffle in and looks up just as he sniffles, locking eyes right before he can still his features into a facade of rested wellness. The  look on her face tells him he’s not getting away without worrying her, and he hates that. She doesn’t say a word as he makes his way to the coffee pot, she just watches him, only speaking up when he shivers at the mug’s warmth in his hands. The weather’s typical for an early autumn morning, but nowhere near chilly. Though the temperature should drop today with rain in the forecast, Sarah knows her dad and he’s never cold. 

“You know, I could just head next door. I guarantee she’d be happy to drive me,” she says smiling into her textbook, trying to be nonchalant with her concern. She was referring to you, their neighbor of a few months now, who’d given Sarah rides, helped her with homework, or checked in on her when Joel needed. You’d been around since the day you moved in, and neither of them could complain — certainly not Joel. Maybe she was hoping to fluster him a bit as well, suspecting his feelings for you were a bit more than the friendship he insists they are. 

He chokes on his coffee and coughs a little, shaking his head as she closes her book and begins leafing through her notes. Joel’s been worried enough lately that he’s taking advantage of your kindness too much — afraid he’s inconveniencing you and you’re too nice to say no, despite your insistence to help on more than one occasion. Besides, he already feels crappy, the last thing he wants today is for you to see him like this, hardly able to keep himself together. Or worse, to get you sick as well. Absolutely not. He opens his mouth to respond, but she speaks first. “It’s not like she hasn’t before. Maybe just one day? You need…,” she trails off, losing the battle with her expression as her eyebrows knit together and she notes the pallor and exhaustion on his own.

He takes a swig of his coffee hoping it will soothe the growing soreness in his throat before responding, “That’s alright kiddo, I-,” but the words catch in his throat before he can finish, and he cuts himself off coughing harshly into his elbow. Sarah grabs a glass and fills it with water while he coughs, longer than he has all morning, and hands it to him when he catches his breath. The look on her face is challenging now — she knows she won’t win this game, but she’ll still put up a fight. Predictably, Joel continues his previous thought as though unfazed by the fit, though his voice tells another story. “It’s just a cold, I’ll be fine. You don’t need to be worryin’ about me, babygirl,” he says hoarsely, waving her off with a sniffle. “You got a science test today, worry about that. You feelin’ ready?,” he asks, subverting talk of both his illness and mentions of you.

Sarah relents with a sigh, “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she says, gesturing to the textbook and notes on the table. He’s more confident than she is, and he smiles brightly at her.

“You’ve got it down, not a doubt in my mind. Now finish getting your stuff together before we’re late. I’ll get the car runnin’,” he says, moving his coffee to a travel thermos before grabbing her lunch from the refrigerator and getting it packed up. She looks back at him hesitantly before leaving the room to gather the last of her school stuff. 

Joel’s got his coffee in hand and Sarah’s lunch in the seat next to him as he waits in the truck. It’s nice enough outside, but he’s still chilly, and wonders if he should run back in and grab a jacket. He forgoes this idea when he realizes Sarah’d put up more of a fight if he did, knowing he’s warm-blooded as all hell, and vocally hot until at least November. Not to mention Tommy’d see right through him the second he shows up to work. No, it’s just early in the morning. The day will warm as the sun climbs to its apex for sure. He’ll be alright. 

While he’s thinking too hard through the fog in his head, Sarah climbs into the car with her backpack on, pulling it off to throw into the seat next to her. But not before she’s placed two additions in the seat between them - a box of tissues and a water bottle. She doesn’t say anything to him, just gives him a knowing look before loading her lunch into her backpack. Joel stills a moment — he’s not surprised by her care, but softens at the gesture. As Sarah shuts the passenger door, Joel wonders how the hell she turned out so sweet, and kisses the top of her head in silent thanks before pushing the truck into drive.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Joel gets to work, his headache has bloomed into pain behind his eyes, leaving him squinting hard in the bright morning sun. He’s also used quite a few tissues since he dropped Sarah off at school. He’s definitely grateful she thought to grab them, but unfortunately, his congestion won’t budge. He’s not naive enough to think he can hide from Tommy, but hopeful that his brother might at least leave him be today. He can muscle through if he’s just working and not being nagged by his brother for hours. He’s sure of it.

—--------------------

Tommy’s not an idiot, but he lets him slide for the first few hours. It’s clear he knows something’s wrong. Joel’s a quiet enough guy, but never this silent, only speaking up when the work demands. He noticed when Joel got out of the truck this morning looking particularly drained - both in face and demeanor - and had checked in as casually as possible, hoping to avoid his brother’s evident and exceptional irritability. Joel, of course, had promptly brushed him off and clammed up for the remainder of the morning. Speaking only when spoken to hadn’t stopped Joel from making noise, though, much to his brother’s dismay. Tommy had seen him all morning, breaking into intermittent fits of coughing he’d attempt to mask beneath the racket of power tools. Tommy’s just about as good at hiding his concern, and Joel catches him looking in his direction in the thick of it on more than one occasion. After which Joel would rip his eyes from his brother’s fretful gaze, hoping to deter him from moving forward to give him a once-over. 

Despite his many efforts otherwise, Tommy knows Joel’s sick - too sick to be working like he is today. It’s when the guys break for lunch around noon and Joel just quietly nurses a bottle of water (which he only has because Sarah made sure of it, no less), that Tommy decides he’s got all the evidence he needs. Tommy sidles up next to his brother who’s leaning against his truck bed, and by the looks of it, allowing it to hold most of his weight, too weary to do so himself. Tommy sighs next to him, and Joel braces for what’s coming.

“You know, we’ve pretty much got it covered over here today, not a lot left to do before we pour anyhow. Probably a good thing, bottom looks like it’s gonna fall out before long,” he says, gesturing to the darkening sky above them. “We can manage for the day if you wanna head on home, maybe take a nap? Hate to tell ya, but you look like hell.” Tommy nudges his brother’s shoulder with his own playfully, attempting to lighten the mood. Joel rolls his eyes at Tommy, sniffing and clearing his throat to talk.

“Nah. ‘S just a cold. I’ll be alright,” Joel says, hoping to end the discussion with his curt response, but failing when his throat catches on the last word. Tommy’s face is etched in worry at the sound of the cough tearing up his brother’s throat. 

While Joel attempts to catch his breath, Tommy takes in the reddened flush on Joel’s otherwise pale face, and the distant glassiness in his eyes. Taking advantage of his distracted state, Tommy places the back of his hand against Joel’s forehead. He’s barely there long enough to get a read on his temp before Joel swats his hand away, but it’s enough. No wonder he’s caught Joel shivering more than once today. 

“Dammit Joel, you know better. We’ve sent guys home for less and you know it,” says Tommy, face twisting in frustration and concern. 

“Tommy it’s fine I-“ Joel attempts to reply, but Tommy cuts him off. 

“Did you even bother to check it before ya left? You know this is a fuckin’ hazard on the job. Damn accident waitin’ to happen,” his tone is grave, but his expression is worried and achingly sincere. Joel pushes the thought from his mind and shapes up - not his little brother’s job, he can take care of himself. 

“No. I’m fine to keep workin. That’s it. We got stuff to do,” Joel says with finality, turning on his heel and promptly returning to his tasks. Tommy’s not happy about it, but he could spend all day arguing with his bullheaded brother, tiring him out more without making any headway. No, he’ll just keep a closer eye on him while they work. That’ll have to do.

—--------------------

It’s when the rain starts coming down a little after two that Tommy hits his limit. Once he notices a couple drops beginning to fall, he looks to Joel, just in time to see his brother shivering when the drops make contact with his overheated skin. That’s enough of that. Tommy stalks over to his brother, whose reaction time is significantly slowed, and Joel turns to look at him a bit dazed. 

“Alright, that’s it. Rain’s coming down, you’re shaking like a fuckin’ leaf. Go home.” It’s Tommy’s turn to remain steadfast in his convictions. Joel looks over at him with tired eyes and Tommy can’t help but soften. 

Only when a few chilled drops hit Joel’s face and neck making him colder than he’s felt all day that he concedes. “Yeah, alright.” It’s clear he doesn’t have the energy to put up a fight, especially when Tommy pats his shoulder comfortingly and he slumps a bit. Joel’s shivering again as Tommy ushers him back toward his truck. 

“We’re heading out soon as we get cleaned up anyway. How ‘bout I pick up Sarah? Just go home and get some sleep?” Tommy asks, hopeful now that his brother’s folding. 

“Okay,” he breathes out, running a hand down his face before trying in vain to rub out the pain behind his eyes. Joel stops just outside the driver’s side door and looks to Tommy to thank him. 

“‘Course. Now head home. I’ll see you in a little bit,” Tommy responds, to which Joel nods, then climbs into the truck. Tommy takes another look back to find his brother sitting in the driver’s seat gathering himself, mildly satisfied with this result 

_____________________________________________________________

For once you actually make your way to the parking lot right after school on a Friday. You're notorious for staying too late, grading, planning, or straight up yapping, but today you’d made a rookie mistake. You’d showed up to work on Day 2 of your period without checking your advil stash. Fuck. 

After a day of cramping, crabbiness, and guilty apologies after being kind of a bitch to your students a couple of times, you head to your car as soon as the bell rings. You’ll stop in the Walgreens around the corner from your neighborhood for a quick supply run, then head home to be comfortably horizontal for the remainder of this fine Friday afternoon.

—--------------------

Truth be told, Joel is relieved to be done for the day by the time Tommy makes him leave. The last of his resolve had crumbled and fallen with the first raindrops and the chill they set in his bones. He turns the heat on in his truck and settles in, letting the air warm him up and willing the pounding in his head to subside just long enough to focus on the road. A few minutes and a bout of coughing later, he finally works up the strength to drive home, only to realize he’s still horrifically unmedicated. Shit. Guess he’s stopping at the drugstore on his way home if he wants even a little relief.

—--------------------

Joel’s standing in the cold and flu aisle of his neighborhood Walgreens, sniffling miserably and squinting heavy-lidded at different cold medicine boxes in each of his hands. He remembers one particular medicine helping at least a bit more than others last time he was sick, but for the life of him he can’t remember which one it was. Dammit, he really just wants to get out of here. He’d much rather keep this cold to himself than be hacking in public, but he needs something if he’s ever gonna stop coughing long enough to get the sleep he desperately needs. 

The tiny white letters on the back of these orange and green boxes are starting to run together, and the pain behind his eyes digs its heels into his frontal lobe. He squeezes his eyes shut and curses a little louder than he realizes, triggering a coughing fit in the middle of the store. Great. Now everyone in the store knows he’s carrying a respiratory plague. He’s sniffling and feeling like a walking germ when he hears his name called.

“Joel?” you call from the end of the aisle, having heard his voice from a few lanes over. Joel turns his head to see - oh no. Jesus. Boy did he wish you weren’t the one seeing him look so gross right now. As you come closer to find him squinting under the clinical brightness of the drugstore, you get a good look at him. He looks… rough. His hair’s a bit damp, and more disheveled than usual - not the fresh, styled damp you see when he leaves the house after a shower, but a clammier mix of sweat and rain. His posture is far from the typical confidence and swagger he typically wields with each step, and is more evidently haggard. You notice his eyes first though, with dark circles and brows creased in confused exhaustion. They’re half-closed too, like he’s fighting to keep them open. 

He tries to open them wider and stand up straighter as you approach, clearing his throat to speak, but he’s coughing again before he can get a word out. He’s shaking with the force of it and you notice his shirt is damp in places as well - must have gotten caught in the rain. Just minutes ago, he’d have been uncomfortable under your scrutiny, but he’s too wrapped up in catching his breath to be embarrassed at this point. You draw nearer with pure concern in your eyes as his coughing subsides, and his resolve melts a bit more.

“Whoa, hey, you okay over there? That sounded painful,” you say, finally meeting his eyes. He notices the fretful tone in your voice — it’s gentler than his brother’s but carries the same intention. 

“Yeah, can’t say it feels great,” Joel says hoarsely before attempting to clear his throat once again, hoping his lungs will cooperate this time. “Can’t seem to remember which of these damn pills will give me a hand though.”

“Didn’t I just see you on Wednesday? When did you start feeling bad?” you ask, leaning against his side to take a closer look at one of the boxes from his hands. Maybe with some details you can help figure something out to get him feeling better, or at least let him rest.

“Last night, I guess. Came on pretty quick. Was workin’ okay this morning, but once the rain started, Tommy sent me packin’.”

“You went to work like this, Joel?! Isn’t that like, dangerous? You could really hurt yourself,” you chastise, rubbing his upper arm comfortingly while staring up at him looking utterly devastated. Christ he may melt into a puddle right here. He’s seen this look before, and though he doesn’t want you close enough to catch this, he doesn’t have the heart to shove you away like he did Tommy. He bothers to look at least a little guilty, and you sigh before continuing: “Bad idea. And you know it. Now, let’s figure this out. You’ve got the cough down for sure - what are your other symptoms?”

Before Joel can respond, he looks down into the small basket hanging over your arm and notices its contents: a box of pads, tampons, a bag of peanut M&Ms, a resealable bag of bite-sized chocolates, sour gummy worms, two different pain medications, and a box of peppermint tea. Pain relief, pads, and candy salad. Caught. This is not a conversation you want to have with Joel — men get weird about periods for some childish reason, and you’re really not in the mood. You glance down and move the basket behind you a bit, ready to brush him off and keep the conversation on him, but when you meet his eyes they’re wider and his brows are furrowed above you, drinking you in.

“You sure you’re feeling alright?,” he asks, gesturing to the contents of your little black basket. His tone mirrors the worry you’ve been bleeding since you turned onto the aisle. You’re taken aback by the question at all, given the obvious nature of today’s dilemma — one most men you know wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. His voice doesn’t waver, and his expression doesn’t falter, or express an ounce of discomfort. It’s interesting, but you’d rather not dwell on it, and laugh him off anyway.

“Oh, yeah. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before of course,” you smile and wave your hand in the air to brush off his concern, but his eyebrows inch closer to one another, and his head tilts slightly to the side. You’re the one growing warm under his perusal now, so you turn the subject back to him. “Anyway, talk to me. What’s the matter?”

Joel stares a moment longer, but begins to rattle off a list of fairly standard cold symptoms. You’re glad it isn’t anything too serious, he’ll probably just feel crappy for a couple of days while his immune system does the heavy lifting. Now to figure out what can be done to make him more comfortable in the meantime. One thing you know for certain after hearing the growing congestion in his voice and the rasp in his throat — he’s gonna need the stronger stuff. You take the boxes from his hands and return them to the shelf. He looks at you perplexed, struggling to sniffle against the congestion that — according to the pained squinting he’s still doing beneath the fluorescent lights — is giving him a hell of a sinus headache, and keeping him from breathing through his nose. Fine as he may be in a few days, at the moment he looks devastatingly uncomfortable. 

“Yeah, this crap on the shelf isn’t gonna work. Let’s get ya some of the stronger stuff,” you say, patting his shoulder before tugging him along to the pharmacy. He doesn’t ask any questions, just quietly follows your lead. Along the way, you explain the useless nature of the phenylephrine in the easy stuff, and how the good stuff requires you to show your ID. You tell him why the drugs with the pseudoephedrine are more helpful, and he nods and snuffles in understanding. Sounds good to him, he’ll let you take the lead on that one. As smart as he knows you are, he more than trusts your judgment.

You approach the counter and begin perusing the options, talking with the pharmacist about what you need, when Joel starts coughing again. You can’t help but rub his back and whisper soft words in comfort when his face twists in pain from the fit wreaking havoc in his chest. As your hand moves in soothing circles across his back, you can feel the heat of his skin through his t-shirt. Shit, he didn’t say anything about a fever. You need to get him home as soon as possible. 

When he’s composed a bit, you wrap up with the pharmacist, and she asks for your ID. You pull yours from your bag and hand it to her, but pause. Should you show her your own? Does she need to see Joel’s too?

“Oh, for sure. Uhm, do you need to see his too, since he’s the patient?” you ask, wanting to get done with this as quickly and smoothly as possible so you can get him out of here. She’s looking at the card in her hand intently and entering your information into the computer, busy with the transaction.

“No ma’am. We don’t need your husband’s ID since you’re the one purchasing,” she responds, not lifting her eyes from the computer. You blush at this, but she doesn’t seem to notice until Joel’s eyes go wide and he chokes, forcing him into another bout of harsh coughing. Jesus, his throat must be torn up. You reach for him with one hand and place your own basket and a few other sick day supplies on the counter with the other before she finalizes the transaction. 

“Thanks for all your help!,” you say a bit frantically as you begin to usher him toward the exit. You walk out of the store in silence, neither one of you looking at the other, each of you trying to keep a nervous smirk at bay. Only when the automatic doors shut behind you do you turn to look at each other and laugh heartily, extremely entertained by the pharmacist’s assumption. The laughter only ceases when it sends Joel coughing again — you need a read on that fever he’s sporting. Once he’s mostly caught his breath, you move closer and place a gentle hand on his forehead, then move it down toward his cheek. Joel closes his eyes and without realizing, leans forward into your soft touch. When your hand leaves his face, his eyes open to find that look again, and he muses that you may make him sweat before the fever gets the chance. 

“You didn’t mention this earlier. Did you know you’re running a fever, Joel?” you ask him, and he looks guilty toward the asphalt. 

“Tommy mighta mentioned somethin’ about it earlier, but I’ll be alright,” he responds, but fails to suppress a shiver when the breeze kicks up. Your heart breaks a little seeing him shaking — how did you miss that earlier? You sigh deeply before telling him you’re hesitant to let him drive home. He insists it’ll be fine, and you understand it’d be more of a hassle to come get his truck later on. You concede since it’s such a short trip back, but you’ll follow him back to your adjacent homes. 

—--------------------

After parking your car in the driveway next to his own, you meet Joel at his truck. You bat his hand away when he attempts to grab the bags from yours, and tell him to go unlock the door. Ever the gentleman, he’s a little perturbed, but follows your instructions anyway. Once you’re both inside the house, you set the items on the table and sit him down next to it before heading for the cabinet and filling a glass with water. After passing him the glass and watching as he slowly sips, you unload the bags, and begin reading the back of the box from the pharmacy. 

“Have you eaten anything today? It’s probably not a great idea to take this on an empty stomach,” you say. He goes a little green at the thought of eating anything before swallowing and huffing a response.

“No, haven’t really felt like it. Don’t think it’d sit well right now, to be honest. I’ll be alright with just the medicine, I bet.” You sigh in response, a little anxious it’ll make him feel worse, but either option could do that at this point. At least the thought of the medicine isn’t nauseating for him at the moment. You’ll let it slide, for now. 

“Fine. But you’ll definitely need to eat something substantial later,” you tell him, giving him a once-over, taking advantage of the single instance he’s below you to get a good look at him. You’re already thinking through take-out options that might help tonight. Another day, you’d make some soup for him — get him full and warm him up. Hell, tomorrow you might. But today you’re exhausted, with the period fatigue and the cramps that won’t let up, you’re definitely ready to get into some more comfy Friday Afternoon Clothes. 

“Alright, you get changed and get comfy on the couch. I’m just gonna run home and get outta these work clothes, then I’ll be right back.” 

“You’ve done plenty already today, darlin’, really. Helped me out more than you know. And I’d hate for you to catch this too,” he explains, looking guiltier than you’d like. You’re plenty aware of the risk here but at the moment you couldn’t care less. You don’t really feel like sitting by yourself in your house right now anyway. No reason both of you should feel crappy alone. 

“Uh, Joel, did you forget that we’re ‘married’ now? I’ll be back in just a minute to check on you,” you insist, smiling at him. He looks at you admonishingly and smiles back, shaking his head. You have no idea how happy that makes him — his stomach flutters at the joke, and it isn’t from his illness. You hesitate on the way out the door, and turn to check with him once again. “If having me hovering is gonna keep you up though, I can totally leave you be. I don’t want to keep you from getting the rest you need.” Your voice and expression are apprehensive, afraid to be a bother. 

He probably doesn’t still his face well enough, and he’s certain you can see desperation in his eyes when he shakes his head. He can’t tell you quite yet, but he’s over the moon you want to stick around. All semblance of nobility is dropped - having you near him could never be unwelcome. “You don’t hover, sweetheart. Nothing about you is bothersome. I’d love the company, actually,” he tells you in earnest.

Your expression settles at the reassurance, and you smile back at him. “Good. I’ll just be a few minutes,” you begin, but your smile turns to a grimace with the last few words as you feel a sharp twisting in your stomach and lower back. Your hand instinctively grips your stomach, hoping to ease the pain. There’s definitely no escaping that one. Joel’s eyes widen, but you cut him off before he can ask if you’re okay. “Yep, I'm gonna get out of these pants and into something loose before my uterus tries to kill me,” you joke, reaching for the knob. 

Joel chuckles in response but he’s frowning a bit. The look from the drugstore is back, and you don’t know what to do with his sympathy. You can’t look long before heading out. 

He hates seeing the pain you’re in, but what upsets him most is the way you brush it off. Like your pain is smaller, or insignificant by comparison — one he wouldn’t draw anyway. It sticks with him more than it probably should, but he can’t seem to shake it. He needs to act, somehow. Once he’s changed, he grabs a few blankets from the closet and the heating pad they keep around for his back and for Sarah’s own cycles. He knows how much it can help her, so he figures it couldn’t hurt to offer, at least. 

He sets up a spot on the couch for you both — a little nest for staring at the tv and, (he hopes), cozying up just a bit for extra comfort. He’s still not hungry, but he microwaves a bag of popcorn and grabs some other assorted salty snacks to join the candy you’d picked up. He’s seen how snacky you can get after school sometimes, and wants to make sure you have an array of options, prepped for any craving. 

You return as he’s placing the last of these items down on the coffee table — he’s rather proud of his little presentation — and sees your hair up and a comfy set of sweats that are just a little too long in the arms and legs. Lord help him, you look fucking adorable. He can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face when you walk toward him. 

“Well don’t you look cozy,” he says with eyes shining at your improved expression. You give him an exaggerated little twirl to show off the baggy outfit you’ve adorned yourself in for this evening’s activities. 

“Damn right! I’m ready for anything now,” you say, stuffing your hands in the pocket of your hoodie. He’s laughing in response before it catches in his throat again and he starts coughing. 

“That makes one of us,” he jokes once he’s caught his breath. 

“Yep, I want you on the couch. Right now. Go ahead and get comfy and I’ll get the medicine. We gotta get you drugged up enough if you’re gonna get any sleep.” You’re ushering him to the couch when you stop in your tracks. When you catch sight of the coffee table snacks and the heating pad set up on one side of the couch, already plugged in and waiting, you nearly tear up. You’re speechless for a moment — no one’s ever done anything like this for you before. This little thoughtful gesture means the world, and you’re not sure what to say. 

“Joel! You didn’t need to do all this. You’re sick, I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you insist, nudging his arm with your own, leaning lightly into his side. 

“Wasn’t hardly anything, darlin’, just some stuff I know helps Sarah when she gets to feelin’ like you do. She likes her snacks salty, and always feels better with this little fire hazard next to ‘er,” he says, gesturing to the heating pad on the couch. His grin turns mischievous before he starts again: “Besides, you said it yourself, we’re ‘married’ now, huh? I oughta know what my wife needs just as well,” he finishes, voice too satisfied, and eyebrows raised in jest. 

You’re giggling when you grab his hand and squeeze it, thanking him. “This goofy little bit we’re doin’ ends the second Sarah and your brother walk through the door, by the way. Not looking to scare her, that’s the last thing I wanna do,” you instruct.

“‘Course, but fuckin’ with Tommy sure woulda been fun,” he says to you, and you laugh in agreement. Once you see he’s settled, you make tea for the both of you, hoping it’ll work magic with the medicine to get him resting comfortably and — with any luck — napping before long. He’ll probably protest, but with a little coaxing, you’ll get it into him. 

When you return with the tea, he takes it from you with both hands, before using one to pull you down on the couch next to him. He’s pulled you a little closer than you may have sat yourself, and he’s pleased when you don’t pull away or readjust. You just grab the heating pad, crank it up, and stick it behind your lower back while leaning forward to grab the medicine. You check his temperature again with the back of your hand while he’s preoccupied taking the medicine you’d doled out to him. He’s a little warmer than he was outside the drug store. 

“Maybe we should get a number on that. Where do you keep your thermometer?” you ask, worry written on your face all over again. You attempt to rise from the couch to go hunting, but he grips your hand again, keeping you in place.

“Nope, nope, it’s fine sweetheart, I promise. You need to get some rest too. Sit,” he directs, his tone leaving no room for discussion. You roll your eyes, but wriggle back against the couch again before pulling a blanket into your lap. Joel fiddles with the cord of the heating pad and readjusts it behind your back, making sure it isn’t folded or sitting uncomfortably against you. You sigh in relief and fall a bit toward him as you settle in, and he inches you way as well. You arbitrarily turn on a movie you’ve both seen, fully aware neither of you will be making it to the end, and snuggle closer. The fevered heat humming beneath his skin is pleasantly warm against you as he settles deeper, and he’s slipping in and out of conversation within minutes. 

_____________________________________________________________

Sarah walks through the door with Tommy in tow while end credits roll across the tv. They head into the den to check on Joel, but conversation falls silent and they stop in their tracks at the sight they discover. You’re sleeping peacefully, legs tucked up under you and head lolled against the back of the couch. Joel’s head has somehow found its way into your lap, and he’s resting warmly on your stomach, no doubt alleviating some of the pain with his warmth and weight. Your hand rests on his shoulder, holding him securely.

Tommy’s face goes slack, but Sarah’s smiling ear to ear, and turns to her uncle, trying to quiet her laughter. He looks at her wide-eyed, but says nothing, and she holds her hand out between them, fingers curling toward her palm.

“Pay up,” she says, way too satisfied for Tommy’s liking, and far too much like her father. He rolls his eyes, and digs his wallet out of his pocket. He really thought his brother would be too chicken to do anything about this — at least for a little while longer.

[sunflower-gvf]

okokokok so i saw u said we could send requests sooooo

what if there is a rule that when in subspace you arnt allowed to curse but you do, so daddy eddie holds reader in his lap while sir steve rough fuck her and then oretstims her while eddie keeps her still

yeah so my brain short-circuited when i first read this tbh this is so hot😵‍💫 was not expecting to write this much but this request was too good

smut, 18+ only plz!!

you're in eddie's lap, straddling his thighs. one of his ring-covered hands grips your waist so tight you know you'll have bruises in the morning, the other rests on your face gently. steve stands behind you, one hand tangled in your hair while he rougly thrusts into you. they've drawn at least five orgasms out of you, tears now streaming down your face as your hips swuirm. "p-please, sir, no more!" you cry out, hands clutching eddie's bare shoulders. steve laughs darkly from behind you, "uh uh, baby, you were bad, you need to learn your fucking lesson." he brings his lips close to your ear. you open your teary eyes, silently begging eddie to help, but he just shakes his head. "he's right, sweetheart, you know the rules," more tears fall from eddie's words, "those words are for us, not you, doll." a loud moan erupts from your chest when steve's hands move to work circles over your clit. "you're gonna be a good slut and come again for us, yeah?" he grits out, trying to stave off his own release as he pounds his cock into you harder. you nod dumbly, the pain and pleasure of overstimulation causing your hips to squirm. "stop fucking moving," steve's grip tightens in your hair, "eddie, do your fucking job." he grits out as eddie rolls his eyes, roughly grabbing your hips to stop your movements. you cry out as you feel your release getting closer. "s-sir, i-i can't!" you whine. "yes you can, baby, soak me and then we're done, okay? show me you're a good girl." you nod vehemently, your body tensing before your release washes over you. "s-sir, daddy!" you moan their titles as your body shakes and you squirt all over steve's cock and eddie's lap. tears pour down your face as steve finally releases ropes of cum into you. your body trembles as you collapse onto eddie's chest, "took it so well, honey, soaked daddy and i." steve whispers into your ear.

this is not proofread AT ALL and i haven't written in quite some time, college is kinda kicking my ass but i'm trying to get back into it!! so plz send in requests for stranger things, gvf, or anyone tbh

[nymphomatique]

special affair

dbf!miguel o’hara x fem!reader

art credit: _insomniac_red_ on ig. pictures are for mood setting, reader has no specific race or physical descriptions.

cw: a lil angsty, this is just shameless smut im sorry guys i don’t know what came over me, daddy kink, dbf!miguel <3, unspecified age gap but reader is legal, rough sex, squirting, unprotected sex, miguel is not a good man, conflicted reader, creampie, lowkey breeding kink, degrading language, choking/breath play, face slapping, spitting, mentions of oral (m), overstimulation, crying/dacryphillia, pubic hair grinding? lmao idk, reader is alluded to being in sub space. not proofread lol. 18+ only.

wc: ~1.5k

❤︎ an: hi my loves!! this is a sorta part two to this drabble, but can be read as a stand alone one shot. tbh i wrote this w my pussy.. i’m ovulating rn i’m so ashamed of myself 😔 nevertheless, enjoy! if you guys want more don’t hesitate to lmk!!

from that first night he fucked you from behind, you knew you strayed too far from the status quo in your life, you’re at the point of no return. that night, when he finished pounding you from behind and defiling you further with his seed all over your back and ass, you had laid in that position— spent and on your stomach- for the rest of the night, silently sobbing. you had betrayed your father, that much you were aware of the day you started rubbing at yourself meekly in the dead of the night thinking about his best friend.

you had long come to terms with that guilt, accepting whatever image of a burning inferno there is in the afterlife. what you cannot come to terms with, is the fact that he- miguel- had actually fucked you, indulged in what you considered your own taboo thoughts, ripping them from page and making your crude thoughts a sick reality. the worst part of this all is that amidst it all, the mental beratement, the nights you spent crying, the sick feeling the memories of miguel’s cock stretching you absolutely thin, showing you a climax like no other— you want to hate yourself for it, for being weak. for being such a bad girl. but you didn’t know why your body decided to betray your brain, the physical craving for the older man’s body possessing you whole. you can’t bear this feeling, holding it up inside you and trying to keep it at bay. fuck- you needed to talk to someone, you had to, even if it’s the last person you want to speak to.

nevertheless, you end up two houses down, sniffling and heaving in the dead of the night, knocking the door as hard as your trembling hands would let you. the door swings open and at the sight of him you keen, your body aching at the sight of the burly muscles covered in sun kissed skin. dark brown hair streaked with grey at the temples. a slight five o’clock shadow, he must not have shaved this morning. and then you look into those eyes, swallowing you up whole and you begin to tear up again. miguel is silent, leaning against the door with messy hair, glazed eyes and clad in boxers, and boxers only. fuck, you shouldn’t have come here.

“I-.. Miguel, it hurts,” you sob quietly, aflame with shame and embarrassment at how little resolve you had. He grabs your face with his warm hands and you’re trembling now, ready for him. your lips ghost for a moment before he breathes out. “i’m not a good man, sweetheart. if you don’t say no, i’m gonna break you.” he sounds sincere with his words and his eyes go stern. you wish you had some self of self control, or maybe having better discernment. but the only thing you say to him only confirms what you already knew about yourself; you’re a terrible fucking person. 

“violate me.”

your lips are smashed against each other, tongues dancing and it feels so good to be in his embrace again. your tears fall down your cheeks, meeting at the junction of your mouths in a pool of saliva. miguel groans and you know why, remembering what he had said to you the last time.

“i like when you cry.”

you’re grabbed up at the hips, legs wrapped around a thick torso, pressed up against a firm chest and a heavy cock. the moments up to the bedroom are cloudy, drunk off his lips against yours. you come to slightly when cold plush sheets hit your back and a pair of lips leave yours. you whine, yearning for his touch again. he looks down at you, bringing your right foot to his mouth, he licks lightly up the sole- kissing the ball of your foot before he leans down, caging your between his elbows, face to face.

“you gonna be good for your daddy?” he asks softly, kissing between the bridge of your nose once. 

“y-yes,” you breathe out with a slow nod. 

“mmm. gonna let me violate this tight little body too?” he asks, still soft in tone and you think you’re gonna go crazy by the end of the night. “yes, daddy,” you murmur, lost in his eyes. 

“sick fucking little girl. but that’s how i like it,” he chuckles, kissing you softly before getting up stripping you bare.

“letting your daddy undress you like a good girl. so obedient f’me,” he coos at you, touching you softly and you’re almost in tears. you need him. and you let it be known. a lone tear falls down your cheek and you mewl, “n-need you to make it better down there, daddy.”

his large hand engulfs you cheek, thumb wiping your tear softly before squishing your face, putting his tear stained thumb in your mouth. “you think you’re a big girl now, hmm? telling your daddy what to do?” you look up at him teary eyed, suckling his thick finger.

“you take what i give you, when i give it to you.” he squeezes you cheek a little harder before softly slapping your cheek and you squeak at the contact. a rough laugh leaves miguel’s mouth at your reaction. “you have no idea how bad i’m gonna treat you, baby.”

you’re non verbal at this point, mouth agape and leaking saliva down your jaw seeping into the sheets and the junction of your neck and chest. a hand slaps your cheek again, you’ve lost how many that is now. “i fucked you stupid already?” miguel laughs, hard thrusts sending you flying up the bed. his hands on your hips bring you down back to him each time, poking you right in that sweet spot in your pussy. you’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve head, body wracked and numb with pleasure. throat hoarse from the near-violent throat fuck he gave you.

a glob of spit hits your forehead and you groan a bit. the one thing you’re sure of is that you look a goddamned mess. a crude picture of the activity you’ve been partaking in for the past two hours. a hand leaves your hip to wrap around your neck and squeeze roughly, making you gasp for air, your body finally moving.

“there we go, got you moving now. thought i fucked you to sleep for a second.” 

your eyes are glossy, at the lack of air and building pressure. your hand meekly wraps around his wrist as he fucks into you. you know you shouldn’t like the way he toys with you like this, waking the line of torment and pleasure with no care in the world. but you do. and you can’t deny it anymore.

“you’re tightening up on me again. you gonna cum for me again?” miguel asks you, and he laughs after knowing you can’t even answer him. “sick little girl. you like it when i choke you? make you feel weak? worthless?” 

it’s barely audible, but the moan you let out vibrates in your neck and miguel can feel it with the hand pressed against your throat. he throws his head back with a groan. “nasty, naughty girl. fuck baby, gonna cum in that little pussy.”

you’re almost there, and quite frankly impressed that you haven’t fully passed out yet. your head feels light, and you begin to tremble violently, gushing out spurts of liquid as your head falls to the side. if this is hell, you’re not so sure you could give this up for heaven. your eyes close and you feel so close to falling asleep when he removes his hand from your neck, grabbing your head by the nape of your neck, craning you up to where you can see his thick cock slip and slide between your thighs. you groan at the image. 

“need you awake to see me cum in you, don’t i?” miguel groans. “you like watching me fuck you, like letting me dirty you.”

 his tuft of black pubic hair rubs against yours as his thrusts become increasingly sporadic and intense, and it has you trembling at the stimulation it gives your clit. you weakly squirt each time his pelvis brushes against your clit, your body letting you know you have only so much left in you before you’re drained empty.

“fuck, love it when you wet the bed. my pissy little girl. daddy loves the messes you make.” he’s nearly breathless and you pray he’s going to cum in the next minute, the ache in your neck and dull sensation in your pussy building slowly.

“c-cum in me. wanna give you a baby,” you moan, looking up from the fast thrusts and into miguel’s eyes. 

“fuck! so n-naughty, baby. gonna give me another one, huh? fucking take it, then.” with a final thrust, you feel the warmth of his cum shoot and blossom somewhere deep within you. you moan weakly, one final weak spurt of squirt coming out of you. miguel pulls out and you watch him look at the mess he made of you and your pussy, covered in spit, cum and the beginnings of handprint bruises blossoming on your hips and ass from how hard he gripped and spanked you. 

you can feel his cum slowly trickle out of you, and your body feels like it’s no longer your own. after so many orgasms, your limbs are on fire, and you can do nothing but breathe and weakly murmur a “d-daddy..” while your eyes close.

tags: @realhotgirlshitah @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @maxiethestrange

message me to be removed!

[rashomonss]

Hello! I was wondering if you could pair Simeon with the dumbification prompt for the Valentines Treat event 🥰 thank you for taking the time to read! I love your stories btw <3

hello hello!! so sorry I’m getting to your request so late! I planned on getting the valentines requests in a lot sooner but i ended up getting into a car accident and this past week was absolutely insane haha but i’m good now

but that’s besides the point! ofc you can and thank you sm! I’m so glad you enjoy my work, i hope you enjoy this, i enjoyed writing it. tbh I always love writing for simeon he’s one of my favs haha. anyway love ya! (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

Warning: NSFW (read at your own discretion) / gender neutral

“my cute little slut”

“What was that my love?” Simeon said with a smile.

No coherent response came from your lips, just moans and mewls of his name. Babbles or things here could be heard there as he made you finish for the hundredth time tonight.

Continuous tears fell from your eyes and you tried to think just how you got into this situation. However it was a bit difficult to think when Simeon’s cock was filling every inch of you.

“Shh it’s okay, don’t even try to bother with thinking love, I’ll just fuck all those thoughts out of your pretty little head.” Simeon smiled.

Though his voice did not match his pace whatsoever.

It was rough and deep, he made sure to hit all of your favorite spots and he practically knew your body like the back of his hand.

“Look at you, aw what a precious little thing for me. You’re taking me so well MC” Simeon said softly in your ear as his fingers worked at pinching and massaging your nipples. You were getting close, he could feel it.

It wasn’t that hard to not notice the way you would clench around his cock each time you came. Though he loved that about you. Your pretty little hole belonged to no one but him.

And, no one but him could make you feel this way.

No one but him could take away all your worries and leave you a dumb fucking babbling mess on his cock.

That was a luxury he alone had, and boy did he love it.

You had come to visit him early in the afternoon at Purgatory Hall. Luke and Solomon went out to buy dinner so Simeon was alone for a while.

Because of this you figured he was the best to vent to about your current troubles.

He understood from the moment he saw you that something was wrong, and when you explained to him how your week just continued to get worse he listened intently and gave the best advice he could.

However he also explained that he would be there for you in any way he could…and of course one thing led to another and next thing you knew you were naked on his bed with your face down in the pillow and your ass in the air.

Simon started out slow and steady making sure to tease you just a bit. He’d bring you close to an orgasm then stop and continue at a slow pace again.

After a good amount of time it drove you absolutely insane to the point you began squirming and begging him to just fuck your brains out.

So, ask and you shall receive.

Simeon wasn’t gentle in the slightest after you spoke. He grabbed your hips and roughly pounded into you until he was satisfied. You came at least twice before he finally finished in you.

That didn’t stop him though. After that he flipped you around on your back to face him and teased you as he continued to pound into you, filling you with his cock.

“You’re taking all of my cock in your tight hole so well, only I can make you feel this good huh love?” Simeon said with a chuckle.

You didn’t respond as he continued talking, all that left your mouth was moans of his name and how it was too much. He in turn noticed and began to slow down with each thrust until you noticed.

“-C”

“MC”

“MC are you listening to me?” Simeon asked with a teasing smirk, his voice now finally reaching you. He had been talking to you for a bit but you never responded so he finally stopped causing you to squirm and beg for him to move again.

“’m listening I swear” you cried out.

“Really what did I say then?” He chucked. His dick throbbed inside of you and you tried to move your hips for any type of friction since he refused to grant you any, but it was no use, Simeon just pinned down your hips with a smile.

When you didn’t respond he laughed and pulled completely out of you.

A whine was about to leave your mouth again as you were getting prepared to beg, but his cock returned inside you in less than a minute causing a gasp to leave your mouth instead; your back arched and your hips buckled into him as you came just from how deep and harsh he entered.

“You’re just a dumb little slut for my cock aren’t you?”

His words had you tightening around his dick in an instant. Out of everyone in the Devildom you never expected an angle to say something that dirty to you. It shocked you but you loved every moment of it, he could tell.

“Uh huh” you cried as you gripped the sheets beneath you.

“Who’s the only one who can make you feel this good?” He said, followed by another hard thrust.

“You” you cried softly.

“I can’t hear you love”

“You- AH…!”

Before you could even string together a sentence he made you come again. Fresh tears left your eyes as he rode you through your orgasm straight into another one.

“Don’t stress with anything else for today my love, just let me fuck you till all you can think about is me and me alone” Simeon said as another orgasm ripped through your body.

You didn’t bother answering him, besides you couldn’t even really understand what he was saying. Your mind went blank as he continued fucking you and even going so far as to whisper a few praises and a few degrading comments with each thrust.

Orgasm after orgasm he had you remember just who’s cock you were coming on.

After all his name should be the only thing you remember in that fucked out little head of yours.

[slutforsnow]

*evil laugh*

imagine president!coryo with a bratty!reader. Coryo hates when people talk back to him or tell him what to do.

Since he's president, nobody tells HIM what to do. expect reader🙈

"don't talk to me like that."

"aw, did i make you mad? didn't know the president was a little cry baby."

then he fucks readers brains out <3

Hold Your Tongue

Cw/TW: Coryo is his own warning tbh 💀, spanking, slut shaming? (HE WOULD), inappropriate use of piss, mean!Coryo, president!Coryo

As much as Coryo loves his dear wife, she could be a bratty bitch. Thinking she could run her mouth off to her little friends about how much their sex life had gone down since he became president and now had to attend all these fancy balls, galas, parties, and whatnot. Sure, it was nice to see his wife all dressed up like a doll and looking sexy, but running her mouth off? That was over the line.

That's how the couple landed in this situation. She had begun to run her pretty little mouth again, and one of her friends had said something along the lines of divorce.

The second the young president of Panem had ensured all the guests had left, he had bound his wife to their shared bed by her wrists, using the special handcuffs he had made for them; engraved with his last name to make sure she understood her punishment. She was also stripped of her dress and lingerie she had worn underneath it.

"I cannot believe you would allow your friends to say something so stupid," He began, slowly unbuttoning his red corset-vest. "Of all the things you had to let slide, it was a topic of divorce?"

"What's so bad about it? She was joking and drunk, I doubt she'll remember it, Coryo," She retorted, pouting a little and tugging wrists forward to try and free herself. Coryo had a tendency go purposely leave the cuffs loose enough for her so she could claw at his back, leaving red marks and little crescent moons from her nails. This time, however, the cuffs were tight enough to where she could barely wiggle her wrists. "Now, loosen the cuffs, I wanna get my makeup off!"

He didn't take lightly to her demanding tone. "Don't talk to me like that," He spat, dropping his vest on the floor, which was soon followed by his dress shirt.

"Awh, did I make you mad? I didn't know the president was a-" She was cut off by a sharp THAWCK against her skin.

Tears pricked her eyes, and she tried to blink them away. She knew Coryo was pissed, but to spank her with his belt on her thigh?

"I told you not to speak to me like that. Now look at you; crying like a little whore because I punished you like one. Don't you dare cry because there's going to be a lot more where that came from," He threatened, glaring down at her. Before she could think, Coryo raised his arm again and another thwack echoed in their bedroom.

"Now, I think we need to revisit a certain setting," He added, tossing his belt to the side and kicking his dress pants to the side, along with his black boxers.

"Wha- huh-" She questioned, semi-dazed from getting spanked only twice. Whatever strength ran through his veins really knocked the wind out of her and replaced it with dopamine.

"Don't play dumb," He chided, slamming his leaking member into her tight cunt causing her to let out a loud cry of pleasure. He continued his harsh pace while pinching and twisting her hard nipples as he marked her neck and collarbone with hickies.

All she could do while he overstimulated her body was moan, mewl, and scream his name. He was fucking the brattiness out of her, reducing her into a brainless whore, but did he care? No, he didn't care. She was going to learn one way or another.

Feeling her walls squeeze and grip on his cock, he smirked, pounding faster into her, pressing a hand to her lower abdomen. Something felt off about it this time; he could feel the bulge, which was normal, but it happened.

As Coryo was fucking his wife's brains out, she pissed while she came and he stopped his ruthless fucking. As y/n was coming down from her sex high, babbling utter nonsense, Coryo watched piss and cum leak from her folds leak onto the bed.

It was... entertaining.

Smirking to himself, he decided to continue fucking himself balls deep into her cunt, which resulted in more cries of pleasure, well more of pain this time, as he fucked y/n harder than ever before. He had to watch it again, no matter how many times it took.

Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings

[joocomics]

okay so you said you don't have any asks about specific members, and I've just been SO fixated on jiung's hands lately 😳 well, always, but it's been especially bad these days,,, can't stop looking at them and thinking about all the things I'd like him to do to me with them, it is terrible for my delusional brain!

perhaps you had some thoughts on jiung hands too that you wanted to share 👀

i have such a desperate crush on jiung i’m open to ramble about any part of his body tbh jusk ask

both of you would feed so much into each other’s hands obsession - you find them arousing when they’re all over you, and he finds you arousing when they’re all over you, because you get so easily turned on from them

he’d love having his hand on your face as he fucks you in a missionary. his slender fingers would grip your jaw, fill your mouth when you become too loud, and smear your makeup along with your spit. often he’d just hold it there, as he kneels to pound into you faster, so his heavy palm would rest on your cheek while his thumb puts pressure on the underneath of your chin in order to keep it up so you can look in his eyes. he would melt if you take it to your lips and start placing gentle kisses on the inside of his palm while he cums inside you

there’s no way he wouldn’t notice the effect his hands have on you and he’d have fun with making you want them even when you’re out in public - placing your hair behind your ear before gliding his knuckles on your cheek, rubbing a crumble of food from the corner of your mouth, fixing your necklace when just an hour ago he was squeezing your throat at home… or he’d draw gentle figures on the inner side of your thigh when you wear skirts before giving it a squeeze, forcing you to look down and thirst over its weight and pretty veins. he’d know what you’re thinking about after you start shifting in your seat, sighing deeply

he’d get really turned on if you grab his wrist and take control of his hand when it’s between your legs during make out sessions. he loves how horny and impatient you can get just from his kisses alone, and he has fun making it even worse for you by teasing you with slow rubs through your panties as they get wet. “can you feel my fingers?” he’d ask, barely brushing his middle finger over your clit, but you’re so sensitive and turned on, you would easily feel the thrill from it. it would drive him crazy when you press his hand on your cunt with your own, after you push your underwear to the side, and start moving back and forth on his palm. it would feel amazing, especially when his free fingers toy with your tongue and gather from your spit so he can stimulate your nipple with it

[juyeonszn]

POISON IN MY MIND

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.54k

GENRES smut ﹒ some angst (but very little)

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, ceo/ceo’s son!hyunjae, assistant!reader, power play tbh, hyunjae is an asshole (for what he thinks is good reason), another jacob bae appearance, juyeon is also mentioned, there’s a rain scene bc i love my rain scenes <3, hyunjae is a stupid idiot, making out (aggressively), nipple play, no foreplay lol, unprotected sex, sex on a desk x2 — but one is missionary & one is doggy? style?, overstimulation, degradation, brat taming?, creampie lol, the aftercare is there i promise

SUMMARY who really cared that you supposedly hated your boss?

MORE HELLAURRRRR FAWNTOBER DAY 4!!! im hoping i have no delays with the rest of the fics but idk bc the burnout is starting to kick in….. someone pls help…. it’s bc my brain is making me write more than i planned 😭 anyways! pls reblog if u enjoyed!

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

“Look at you, rutting against me like a fucking bitch in heat,” Hyunjae growls, lips beside your ear as he pounds into you from behind, your hair wrapped tightly around his fist. “Thought you hated me, sweetheart.”

“I— fuck— I do,” you whine, back arching off of the desk and into his chest. “I hate you s-so goddamn much.”

Okay, let’s rewind for a bit of context.

Truly, you hated Lee Hyunjae. He was such a pretentious prick, always dead set on being right about everything. He couldn’t stand those who he felt were inferior to him, those who he thought were incompetent. If he felt you couldn’t do your job to his standards, he’d fire you on the spot.

Despite not being the CEO of the company himself, he practically carried all of the perks that came with the position. That was only because he was the actual CEO’s son and the future heir to the conglomerate his father owned.

You had the unfortunate pleasure of being his assistant, tied to doing his bidding until your contract with the company timed out. You originally applied for the job for two reasons. The first was due to the fact that you genuinely loved the initial purpose pushed forward by the CEO. He shared a lot of similar ideals with you and had spectacular visions for bettering the business world. The second was because at the time of your application, you wanted to be the CEO’s assistant. And that was what you’d gotten hired for.

It paid more than well enough and it was your dream job. You loved what you did for at least the first year and a half. Until he announced that he’d be retiring within the next couple years and his son would be taking over as a form of practice for being in charge when he inherited the entire conglomerate.

You’d never met him in person before, only hearing the high praises Mr. Lee had for his precious son. So on his first day, you had extremely raised expectations for the male. You dressed your best (not that you didn’t put effort in before) and put on your sweetest personality, wanting to make a good impression on your new boss.

Imagine the disappointment you felt when you realized he was nothing but an entitled asshole.

He made you feel stupid, as if you didn’t know how to do your own job. What started as sitting in on important meetings and going over different documents with Mr. Lee, turned into running errands for Hyunjae and cleaning up his messes. If you weren’t out buying his coffee or grabbing his dry cleaning, you were sorting his paperwork for him and making sure he was prepared for his upcoming conferences, as if he wasn’t capable of doing so himself. You felt like a fucking babysitter rather than an assistant; like an errand boy rather than an employee.

You were so incredibly tired and it had only been four months. A few, tortuous months of you being treated like you hadn’t already given an arm and a leg for this company. Half of you wanted to just throw in the towel, rip up the damn contract right in front of the fucker and walk out of those gold plated double doors for good.

“Just push through, Y/N,” Jacob sighs over the video call. “Your contract ends at the end of the year, and if you still feel like quitting, then that’s that. You don’t have to worry about renewing or trying to reinstate your job.”

You were on your lunch break, holed away in one of the many unused conference rooms on the top floor. Hyunjae was being extra irritating today and if you didn’t speak with a voice of reason, you thought you’d make a drastic decision that would alter the course of your life forever. Whether that was tossing your employee contract in the shredder, or committing premeditated murder, the world may never know. Shout out to Jacob Bae.

“What if I push him out of the floor-to-ceiling window in his office? I could make it look like an accident. Everyone would probably rejoice instead of mourning him, because we would all be so much happier.” You throw the back of your hand over your forehead. Well, that answers that.

“You’re not killing anyone. If you got caught, you wouldn’t look good in a prison jumpsuit. Orange isn’t your color.” Jacob shakes his head, rolling his eyes playfully.

You gasp scandalously, sitting upright to gape at him. “What the hell? Yes, I so would! I would make that prison jumpsuit my bitch—“

Someone clears their throat behind you, causing you to flinch, whipping around in your swivel chair to find the culprit. When it’s none other than Lee Hyunjae staring back at you, you feel like your life has just flashed before your eyes. You wonder just how much of that conversation he heard before making his presence known.

“Um, Cobie, I’m gonna have to call you back…” You don’t allow your friend time to respond, ending the call before he can incriminate you more than you already have.

Hyunjae leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his absurdly broad chest. Did this guy have to wear the tightest dress shirts possible? Maybe it was time for him to update his wardrobe. You tuck your hair behind your ear, slowly standing up from the chair. His expression is unreadable, not that you ever had it easy when it came to understanding the many faces of Lee Hyunjae.

“Mr. Lee, what— uh— what can I do for you?” You ask with a slight waver in your tone. So much for not incriminating yourself. He purses his lips, taking a step closer to you.

“Juyeon can no longer accompany me on the trip to Tokyo next week. Which means you’re second on the totem pole,” he says simply, loosening his tie. “Better pack your bags, ‘cause I’m not taking no for an answer.”

This was horrible.

You were mentally cursing Lee Juyeon over and over. Why did he have to back out at the last minute? This was the one part of the job that you couldn’t allow yourself to do. You’d much rather drive in circles around Seoul and grab iced Americanos than be in a completely different country, with no other company aside from Lee Hyunjae himself.

When he gave you your demise, you immediately tried to get out of it. Your excuse was valid; you didn’t have a passport and that’s kind of essential when traveling to another country. But even then, it wasn’t enough to get you out of this predicament. Being the rich, influential man he was, Hyunjae had your passport expedited and sent to your mailbox within a couple days. You gave up after that.

There was nothing he couldn’t do.

Except maybe being tolerable. You think that was most likely his only fault. He could’ve been the complete package had he mastered the art of bedside manner. His father was one of the kindest, selfless men you’d ever met. You were often curious why those same traits didn’t translate to his son. Then again, he had probably been raised as a spoiled brat who got everything his heart desired.

To make matters worse, you had one of those suites with a Jack and Jill bathroom, meaning he could enter yours without difficulty if he wanted. You supposed that was because the rooms were reserved with him and Juyeon in mind. Perhaps the case would be different if you were the first pick for this trip.

You let out a deep exhale, waiting outside of the conference room that Hyunjae was currently in. This was meeting number seven, and the last of the day before you could finally go back to the hotel and relax. You’d be flying back to South Korea the following day on the Lees’ private jet. All of your time in Japan had been spent both sitting in and sitting out of board meetings, so much talk about business plans that you felt dizzy.

All you yearned for was a nice warm bath and some room service, wanting to call it an early night because of your flight in the morning. You were exhausted, eyes growing heavier and heavier the longer Hyunjae sat in that room full of old men that came from bloodlines of money. Even though it was your job to be here, you felt so out of place. There were moments you found yourself contemplating your career path. You were surrounded by people who could just sign a check to get rid of their life problems. That wasn’t you.

Before you can fall down a rabbit hole, the door to the conference room is swinging open and Hyunjae is storming out, some of the other board members calling after him. Your eyes widen and your eyebrows furrow, your body springing up to follow after him. Wearing some flats instead of heels was probably the smartest choice you’d made today, making it less of a struggle to chase after your boss.

“Mr. Lee!” You cup a hand around your mouth, trailing him like a lost puppy to the elevator. It closes before you can get on and you groan, running a hand through your hair frustratedly. As you wait for the next one down, you call the driver so the car is waiting out front. According to the recent weather notification on your phone, it was pouring outside.

The elevator dings when it arrives back at the floor you were on and you hurry to get on, pressing the lobby level aggressively in hopes it would move faster. Even the soothing music playing over the speakers isn’t enough to calm your nerves, picking at your nails as the numbers transition to the corresponding floors you pass. This was one of the numerous occasions you wished your boss wasn’t so impulsive. What did they even say to him in that meeting to cause such a reaction?

The doors open and you’re rushing out, frantically searching for Hyunjae in the lobby. You spot the driver parked under the carport, waiting. Your feet carry you to the car, knocking on the window to get his attention. He rolls it down with a confused look.

“Have you seen Mr. Lee?” You ask, a bit winded by all of the running you’d been doing.

“I thought I saw him walk that way,” he points ahead, though it hardly answers your question. “I didn’t realize you weren’t with him.”

Just fucking peachy. He was making you chase him into the rain now? You needed a pay raise.

Thankfully, it’s a breeze to spot him, since he’s the only person in the crowd without an umbrella. You pinch the bridge of your nose, forcing yourself to walk out into the cold rain, weaving through pedestrians to get to him faster. He’s not much further from you, but you’d rather drag his ass back to the car sooner rather than later, the precipitation seeping through your dress shirt and pants, chilling you to the bone.

“Mr. Lee!”

You reach for his wrist and wrap your fingers around it, yanking slightly to yield his focus. He turns around with hardened features, but they soften just enough for you to notice when he realizes that it’s you. Your lips form a flat line, eyelashes coated with a mixture of mascara and rain water, obscuring your vision.

“I don’t know what happened in there, but I don’t have it in me to ask. Please, can we just go back to the hotel?” You ask almost desperately, teeth beginning to chatter. He frowns, but nods nonetheless, letting you pull him to the safety of the carport— where you’re free from the unrelenting pelts against your body— and into the car.

You don’t say anything the whole drive to the hotel you’re staying at, biting your tongue because you were afraid you might blow up on him over his stupidity and get yourself fired. Your bottom lip quivers and you hug yourself for warmth, the car’s heater failing to bring back the color in your cheeks. In spite of hating nearly everything about him, you thought the one good thing Hyunjae had going for him was his wits. He might’ve been stuck up, but he was smart as hell. Except right now. In your books, he was the biggest idiot in the history of idiots.

The silence continues even after you’ve arrived at your hotel, shadowing you into the elevator and to your respective rooms. You don’t acknowledge him, unlocking your suite and entering to avoid any conversation. The remainder of your energy for the day was used when you were attempting to save him from getting fucking hypothermia.

You stand in the shower until your fingers have pruned, resting your forehead against the frosted glass as the scorching water battered your back, easing the tension in your muscles. While changing into your pajamas, your phone buzzes with a text message.

[9:23pm] mr. lee (DNI): i don’t know if u’ve eaten already, but i ordered a lot of food if u’d like to have some of it.

[9:24pm] mr. lee (DNI): left my bathroom door unlocked so u can just let urself in

Your lips purse as you mull over his offer. It wasn’t exactly an olive branch, but even if it was, you wouldn’t take it as such. You had too much pride for that. Instead you viewed this as him just feeling guilty for having you pursue him in the rain. That was definitely not in your job description. Perhaps he wasn’t as heartless as he made himself out to be, and he just didn’t know how to extend an apology without being awkward about it.

Reluctantly, you give in.

[9:27pm] you: sure. be right there

You slide your feet into your slippers and shuffle through the four doors between the two of you that lead to his suite. It takes everything in you to not visibly react to the difference between your rooms. His is so much more spacious, with enough room for a table and couches, aside from the usual desk. Even he looks expensive, a silk pajama set adorning his body— the first few buttons undone to give you a glimpse of his chest, though it hardly leaves room for the imagination.

Hyunjae sits at the table, various sushi roll platters in front of him. He holds up his chopsticks as he scrolls through his phone mindlessly, glancing up when your slippers shuffle against the floor. He takes in your appearance as quickly as he can without making it obvious, the corner of his lips curling up when he sees the teddy bears on your feet.

“You know, I didn’t think you’d come,” he starts after a few minutes of eating in an awkward quietness. “Not just here, to my room, but on the trip in general. I thought you’d put up a bigger fight to get out of it.”

“It’s part of my job, Mr. Lee.” You say flatly, taking away as much emotion from the statement as you could to avoid getting in an unnecessary argument.

“We’re not at work and it’s outside of working hours, Y/N. You can call me Hyunjae.” He tries to meet your eyes but they’re focused on picking at the skin around your nails, legs criss-crossed on your seat.

“Why do you go by Hyunjae?” You decide to ask, glancing up at him finally. “Your dad said your birth name was Jaehyun.”

“I don’t remember when exactly it was, but when I was in grade school, a classmate called me Hyunjae by accident and it just stuck. I’ve never really liked the name Jaehyun, if I’m being honest. It was a common name, and well, you of all people should know that I’m all about my individuality.” He leans back in his chair a bit, folding his arms over his chest. You ignore how it makes his pectorals squish together. God, you were no better than man…

“Is that why you’re nothing like your father?” You don’t mean to say that out loud. The thought popped into your head, as it always does, and for some reason this time it just shimmies its way through your mouth. You press your lips together, shifting uncomfortably at the sudden tension that arises in the room.

“I’m well aware of what you think of me, Y/N,” he chides, tapping his fingers against his biceps. “You may think you’re good at hiding it, but I’m very perceptive. And I also overheard that conversation with your friend— the one where you were plotting my assassination and whatnot.”

“Are you open to rebuttal?” Perhaps you should just stop talking, maybe pause the hole you were digging yourself into. Did you want to keep your job? Sure this was all off the record, but be fucking for real, it was Hyunjae you were speaking with.

He shrugs. “Shoot. Let’s hear it.”

“You’re kind of a narcissist,” you kick off strong, hitting him right where you think it may hurt. “You don’t take in the consideration of others, and you always have to be correct. If someone even slightly disagrees with you, you lose your shit. You’re condescending, you’re a perfectionist, you’re hot headed, and after the stunt you pulled today, you’ve exhibited that you’re also really fucking irrational. I’ve done so much in the time I’ve been with the company prior to you, I’ve given so much of myself for the improvement that your father was aiming for and you took all that hard work and crushed it between your fingers, just to have me running around like I’m your maid.”

Hyunjae wears an amused smirk on his lips, like he couldn’t be bothered with your grievances. Your eye practically twitches, irritation boiling up like water ready for a pasta dinner. You stab your chopsticks into a piece of sushi with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re cute when you get worked up,” he hums, carding a hand through his hair. “I almost want to keep my thoughts to myself.”

You choke on your saliva, smacking yourself on the chest to regain control of your breathing. Whatever you were expecting him to say wasn’t that. Should he even be calling you that? He was your boss. Not just that, but you sort of hated everything there was to hate about him. The tiny compliment shouldn’t make both of your heartbeats quicken.

“W-What are you talking about?”

Hyunjae stands from his chair, walking around the table to sit on the edge of the desk in the room, not much further away but enough distance to keep you calm. He rolls his neck, scratching at the nape to relieve some of the awkwardness seeping into the suite. “My father has done nothing but sing your praises since he hired you. I know how capable you are of this job, Y/N. I know that you’ve accomplished more than individuals who have been with the company even longer than you. Trust me, I know.”

“Then why do you discard me the way you do? Why do you treat me like I don’t know what I’m doing?” This time you don’t stop the emotions from creeping beneath your words, your voice cracking just slightly. If Hyunjae heard, he makes no effort to show it.

“Because, I had to keep myself as far from you as possible,” he admits, finally making eye contact. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I was fucked. I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself around you and as your boss, I couldn’t do that. As my father’s son, I couldn’t do that. So I resorted to the next best thing, making you hate me and having you do shitty side tasks to separate myself from you. I thought, ‘If she thinks I’m the worst boss ever, she’ll want nothing to do with me’. And that’s exactly what my goal was. But now you’re here in Tokyo, alone with me in my hotel room and I’m starting to rethink that decision.”

You stare at him— mouth agape, heart in your throat. Once upon a time, you believed Lee Hyunjae was one of the brightest, smartest businessmen of your generation. It seemed that he just wanted to go and prove you wrong on that today, in multiple instances. How could someone be so fucking stupid? You were genuinely curious what went through his head.

“You’re unbelievable,” you scoff, a laugh devoid of humor sneaking in along with it as you stand from your own chair. “Actually unbelievable. What made you think that was a good idea? You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough to be in this position because you didn’t think you could keep it in your pants around me?”

And just as you’re about to leave, he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you. You were getting a weird sense of déjà vu. He pulls you into his chest, your body sandwiched between his legs as he holds you close to him. Your eyes are wide and your lips are parted. (Though you don’t know if it’s out of shock, sudden arousal, or both.)

In this proximity, you can see every small detail of his face. From the freckle on the bridge of his nose to the thick eyelashes framing dark eyes to the softness of his lips. You’ve never had the opportunity to properly look at Hyunjae, always too pissed off to even be within ten feet of him. But standing here— face-to-face, eye-to-eye— you’re starting to wish the object of your hatred and many complaints wasn't so handsome.

“If you push me away now, I’ll leave you alone forever,” he breathes, hands fisting the material of your pajama top, as if that would ground him. “If you tell me there’s absolutely no possibility of you wanting me back, I’ll let you go back to your room like none of this happened.”

You don’t respond. The words are right there. They’re perched on the tip of your tongue, just anticipating to climb out of your mouth and put him in his place. It’s been months of constantly feeling like you were meaningless to the company you’ve given so many sleepless nights to— months of second guessing just how much you’ve actually contributed. But with one glance down to your lips with eyes resembling the night sky, Hyunjae has managed to wipe all of that from your memory.

So instead of turning around— instead of walking through the four doors that divide your hotel rooms— you stay planted between his thighs, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling his lips onto your own.

He groans into the kiss, tightening his grip on your shirt and bringing you closer to him. You feel him against your stomach, hard and ready for you, ready for any contact you’re willing to give him. It’s so much and too little at the same time, fingers slipping beneath your top and searing your skin.

He nips at your bottom lip, as if asking for permission to permeate your mouth with his tongue. You welcome the wet muscle with gratitude, moaning when it tangles with yours. The blunt edges of his nails dig into your lower back when the sound hits his ears. You tug at the hairs on the base of his neck, one hand sliding down the front of his body to feel him up.

Through the thin silk of his pajamas you can make out the outline of his sculpted torso. If Hyunjae was more coherent and less intoxicated by your lips on his, he’d tease you for your desperation. But because he's neither of those, he, too, finds himself clawing at every bit of fabric of your clothing he can, longing to touch anything he can get his hands on. You feel drunk, and you wonder if he makes you feel like this with his lips alone, what else can he do?

The straps of your top fall off your shoulders the longer you stand there, making out like it was second nature to both of you. When you take a step back to catch your breath, lips swollen and glistening with a mixture of both yours and his saliva. Your chests are heaving up and down, foreheads resting on the other’s.

“Can I take that as a yes?” Hyunjae rasps, pushing your straps further down your arms. You whine, connecting your mouths again. This was embarrassing enough, you didn’t want to have to say the words out loud. Saying it out loud made this real, and you didn’t want to accept the fact that you were about to fuck your boss.

He chuckles against your lips, undoing the buttons of his shirt without parting from your kiss. You help him toss it somewhere in the room, your hands groping his arms and squeezing his biceps. He spins the two of you around so you’re the one with the edge of the desk on your back. His arms hook under your thighs, placing you on the surface so it’s less strain on his neck as he leans down.

You instinctively spread your legs to make room for him, throwing your head back with a drawn out sigh when he presses two fingers to your core. Even with your panties and your flimsy pajama shorts in the way, the pressure relieves some of the ache you feel in your gut. Your top slips off enough that your bare breasts are now on full display for Hyunjae. He keeps circling your clit through your clothes, mouth enveloping one of your peaked nipples and tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

“C-Can’t hold on anymore,” you whimper. “Need to cum on your cock.”

Something shifts in Hyunjae when he hears you beg. You’d always been so set in stone when it came to standing your ground, so for you to surrender yourself to him, in spite of reiterating how much you despise him, it did a number on his sanity. You have no idea what you’ve just done to him.

“No foreplay? Think you can handle it, sweetheart?” He goads, but his fingers dip into the waistband of both your underwear and your shorts to pull them down your legs anyway.

“You’re talking a whole lot for someone who’s still wearing their pants.” You bite back, but almost immediately retract your words when he rids them, revealing that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath them. No fucking wonder you could feel him so much.

He’s huge, like so huge you kind of regret skipping the foreplay. But it was too late to go back now, your pride as big as his dick. One of your hands reaches to wrap around his length, your teeth finding purchase on your lip as you stroke him gently. Every pulse and every vein beneath your touch has you curling your toes in excitement. He hisses when your thumb swipes over his tip, collecting the precum that’s formed there.

Hyunjae drags you closer to the edge, prying your legs wider so he fits perfectly between them. You guide him to your entrance, a moan ripping from your throat when he presses into you. He’s not even fully sheathed inside of you, but the stretch is so fucking delicious, stinging just enough that it provides pleasure rather than pain. He pulls out to drive back in and repeats, a little deeper each time he does.

When he bottoms out, his hips snap into yours, large hands keeping your thighs apart as he begins to thrust into you. His cock is snug within your warm walls, kissing so deep inside that you start to see stars well before the coil in your abdomen has begun to wind up. The noises leaving your mouth are insane, loud and echoing throughout the hotel room. It made shame bubble up in your chest, because why couldn’t your detestation overpower the urge to crumble at his fingertips?

“Fuck you’re so tight,” Hyunjae groans, eyes concentrated on where his cock slips in and out of you. “You needed this, huh? Needed me to fuck you real good? Like a filthy slut?”

You’ve never thought you’d be into degradation. In fact, a man calling you demeaning names actually pissed you off. So you felt like you’d end up picking a fight if ever in the situation where someone tried to degrade you. However, the words falling from Hyunjae’s lips have the opposite effect on you. They have you clenching around him and mewling like a goddamn pornstar.

His pace is relentless, inching you closer and closer to your breaking point. He lays you flat on the desk, one hand gripping your hip and the other sneaking to your clit. His thumb rubs ovular motions into the engorged skin, his body folding over yours to capture your lips with his. He swallows your cries when your climax washes over you suddenly, your walls fluttering around his cock.

Hyunjae pulls out before he can follow suit, flipping you onto your stomach like you were a fucking pancake. He bends you over the edge of the desk as his thumb continues to circle your clit slowly, languidly just to ride out your high. He propels forward, his dick still so hard as it breaches your hole once again. He curses, extra sensitive after depriving himself of his own orgasm.

You push back on him, wanting to feel him even deeper. Your whole body burns beneath him, his chest slick with sweat as it presses you flat to the desk. You need him everywhere, God you want him everywhere. It’s not enough to have him buried inside of you. You need to be one with him; one body, one mind, one soul. You need him filling your senses— blinding your sight, obstructing your scent, stealing your touch, invading your taste, muting your hearing.

Okay, now let’s resume.

“Look at you, rutting against me like a fucking bitch in heat,” Hyunjae growls, lips beside your ear as he pounds into you from behind, your hair wrapped tightly around his fist. “Thought you hated me, sweetheart.”

“I— fuck— I do,” you whine, back arching off of the desk and into his chest. “I hate you s-so goddamn much.”

“Yeah? I’m sure you do. You hate me so much, yet you want me to fuck you full of my cum, don’t you? Gonna let me finish inside you?” His voice is exerted, and you can tell he’s close. But you are too, so you’re not above pleading for your sweet release. Not when it rewards you so well.

“Mhm,” you whimper, cheek smushed to the surface under you. “Please, Jae… Need it so— oh my god— need it s-o bad.”

Hyunjae hikes one of your knees onto the desk, allowing him to plunge extensively. Your clit bumps the edge, that coil in your stomach fracturing little by little until it’s busted completely and you’re a babbling, incomprehensible mess. The sight of you fucked absolutely stupid tips Hyunjae into his own spiral, painting your velvety walls with thick ropes of his cum. He lets his forehead fall on your shoulder, rocking into you with delayed groans as he spills all he has to offer you. It’s so much that even his cock plugging you up isn’t sufficient to keep it from dribbling along your thighs.

You’re both too winded to move, much less fathom what just happened. You feel him panting on your back, eyes shut as you also attempt to regain your bearings. Where the hell do you go from here?

“H-Hyunjae…” You wince when he stirs inside of you. “Can— uh— can you pull out?”

He grunts as he carefully does what you’ve asked, running a hand down his face when more of his release trickles out of you. He knew you couldn’t afford another round. Just by looking at you he can see how spent you are. What you needed was another bath and some good rest. Without skipping a beat, he reaches out to tuck some strands of your hair that were stuck to your face behind your ear, wiping away the sweat that glued itself there.

“We have a lot to talk about,” he says, grasping your hands and caressing the backs with his thumbs. “But that can wait until tomorrow. For now, just let me take care of you, okay?”

“Okay.” You agree, tone no more voluminous than a whisper.

You did have a lot to discuss pertaining to tonight, but that wasn’t a priority at the moment. Who really cared that you supposedly hated your boss? All you could focus on was how gentle his fingers were as he washed your body for you, massaging your muscles so delicately you might as well have melted in the palms of his hands. And all you could pay attention to was the hushed sound of his voice as he kissed your temple and lulled you to sleep, within the comfort of his arms.

Yeah. You could revisit the whole Lee Hyunjae hatred train another day.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[hyukalyptus]

anything for you — beomgyu x reader w pierced nipples | established relationship. NSFW/MDNI!!!

cw. afab!chubby!reader has pierced nipples obvi, mentions of sexting/sending nudes, lots of nipple play, reader wears lingerie, unprotected sex, cumming on the tummy, a teeny bit of a voice kink for both, not proof-read too well. notes. happy kinktober! apparently i've been in a beomgyu mood recently?? i blame @agustdiv1ne for clouding my brain w beomgyu thoughts ever since telepathy tbh. honestly i don't rly love this, but lmk what y'all think <3 smut under cut. wc. 2.3K

“You look so sexy in all those pictures you’ve been sending me,” he says, his voice low and smokey, you can practically feel his breath on your neck. Not seeing each other in a few weeks often leads to desperate, longing texts to each other and the frequent nude photo from you. 

“I knew you’d like them,” you giggle. “I know you miss me.”

“I do.” Plopping down in his hotel chair, he sighs, exhausted from the day he’s had. “I miss you so fucking much, babe.” Oh, what would he be doing to you if you were there? Not just sitting in this stupid chair, that’s for sure. “What are you doing right now?”

“I’m at work, babe,” you say matter-of-factly. Damn. God, he’s been dreaming of having phone sex with you for weeks. Your voice in real life gets him going enough on its own, but the thought of getting off to just your voice…sounds magical. But between rehearsals, your job, and interviews, there’s never been a good time. “I was actually about to say I gotta go. I’m sorry.” You slouch over in your hand, longing for his touch just as much as him. “I did wanna tell you,” you start. “I have a  surprise for you when you get home.”

-

“You’re here.” Finally, after weeks apart, he’s standing in your doorway—it’s surreal. The way he smiles down at you, eyes already mentally undressing you while he kicks his shoes off, letting you grab his hand to drag him to your living room. 

Pushing him to the couch, you hover between his legs, knees pressed into the couch cushions as his hands rest on the small of your waist. 

“Ready for your surprise?” A smile appears on his lips. It’s all he’s been thinking about. 

“I dunno…am I?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” Tilting your chin down, you look at his eyes sensually, like you’re about to scream. Reaching for his hands, you ask, “Why don’t you unbutton my shirt for me?” You wore that shirt just for this, just to watch him slowly undress you so you can see the absolutely delicious expression on his face. Nodding gently, he takes forever. You think you may burst. 

As your shirt falls to the floor, he looks over your body—every beautiful inch of it—your full tits spilling over the top of your bra, your tummy rolls looking so delicious and warm, your waist that holds his hands so perfectly. 

His expression drops, “Wait…what’s the surprise? I mean, your body’s enough of a surprise, but am I missing something?”

Shooting him a knowing look, you suggest, “Maybe you should take my bra off.” Reaching behind you, your heart pounds waiting for the snap. It always feels so good to take your bra off, but the look on his face when he sees—

“Oh my god…” he exhales, his eyes darting between both of your nipples with new barbell piercings through them. Your chest heaves with nervousness as you wait for his reaction. You expected an attack of lips and tongue, to be picked up and dragged to bed, maybe even to be fucked right on the couch.

But none of that happens. His eyes are wide, just staring at your tits. 

“D-do you like them?” You ask, eyes awkwardly diverting to the couch. 

“Are you kidding?” He sighs, sitting up straight, reaching for one of your tits, opening his mouth.

“Nope,” you giggle, pulling away from him. “You can’t lick them until they heal.”

“When will that be?”

“I got it done a few days ago…” you look up, biting the inside of your cheek. “So about a month left.”

“A month?” Collapsing back on the couch, his eyebrows stitch together, rubbing his temple before he whines, “But babe…”

“You’ll be alright,” you say, tussling his hair. 

SIghing, he says, “I guess so…” Eyes floating across your body, he can’t take them off you, god this is gonna be hard. “Stand back a second? I just wanna look at you.” How can he not put your nipples in his mouth for a whole month? Can he even touch you? How is he gonna get through a whole month without squeezing your gorgeous tits? You can tell some kind of internal conflict—almost existential crisis level—is going through his head. 

“Babe, calm down,” you giggle. “You can still squeeze my tits. You just can’t—” Yanking you forward by your fingertips, he hands urgently squeeze you. “Babe, babe,” you giggle. “Just avoid the nipples, okay?” Nodding rapidly, he buries his face between your cleavage, kneading them gently. “You really like them though, right?”

“Oh, fuck yes.” Coming up for some air, he looks up at you through his lashes, breath heavy. “They’re sexy and…really pretty if I’m honest,” he says. Returning his mouth to you, he sucks and licks everywhere but your nipples and frankly, this might be tough for you too. 

-

A month later, you’d planned a dinner date and with your piercing finally healed, you can’t wait to get through it to get home. It’s been just as hard on you…make out sessions that would naturally move to his lips wrapped around your nipples ending in groans of realization, gasps at the sting of a squeeze that was a little too rough, you’re ready for them to be healed already.

It’ll all be worth it, though, you keep telling yourself. A month of suffering in order to look super fucking cool and hot the rest of your life? Definitely worth it. 

Sitting on the same side of the booth, you show enough PDA to make the whole restaurant cringe if you weren’t in a private dining room. Whispers of what he wants to do to you later make it more and more difficult to keep the fact your piercings are healed a secret. 

Back at your apartment door, your heartbeat races faster and faster as you unlock your door. Both of you know where this is going—it’s where almost all dates lead to—but only you know his lips will once again be on your—pierced—nipples.

As soon as your shoes are kicked off, he slyly leads you to your bed, hands already following the curves of your body as he rips clothes off your body until there’s nothing left but your cute lingerie. 

Reaching behind you, he unclasps your bra as he lets out a sigh, eyebrows stitching together at the sight of you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen your body. 

“Babe…your body,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “It’s just,” he exhales, running his hands all over you. “Perfect.”

“I know,” you giggle to yourself proudly, loving when he’s so desperate to touch you. Lips attached to your neck, fingertips trace random shapes on your thigh. He’s wanting to take his time tonight, you think to yourself. 

“You know…” you sing and he hums in response, still covering your body with kisses. “It’s been about a month since I got my piercings.” 

Backing off quickly, he asks, “Are you saying…?” Eyes wide with anticipation, you bite your lip and nod. Practically giddy, he sits up to ask, “They’re healed?”

“Not completely, so you still need to be careful.” You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so excited to lick you—almost in a pant as he squeezes you experimentally. He’s so cute. 

“Are you sure? It’s not gonna hurt?”

“I’m sure.” You nod. “Go ahead.” Kissing around your nipple, his lips barely miss the most sensitive part of you. Blowing it gently, he watches it pucker even more than it was with the jewelry through it, a gleam in his eye at your body reacting without him even touching you. Finally pressing his lips to it, you flinch at the tenderness. 

“Good?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “They’re still a little sensitive, but I’m okay,” you say, your chest heaving. Flicking his tongue over it, he groans in relief, eyes snapping shut. Feeling you relax, he’s not playing around anymore. Squeezing you harder, licking you more furiously, he gently sucks you into his mouth, experimenting a bit, carefully listening for your moans of approval. 

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you shove his face down just to have a little bit more. You’d forgotten just how fucking good it felt to have his mouth on your nipples. It’s magical. You’re flooded with anticipation. You need him. Bad. But you want him to take his time too. 

“Fuck, you’re hot,” he says, repositioning to straddle your hips. After sucking enough to leave marks that’ll show up tomorrow morning, you pull him closer by the nape of his neck to press your lips to his. “Get on top of me for a bit.”

Flipping on his back, he pulls you over his hips, forcing you to lean against the headboard with your forearms, giving him easy access to your tits that fall right in front of his face. You're losing patience. His tongue feels so good, but your nipples are tired. It’s starting to get a bit overwhelming. You need him somewhere else.

“Babe, babe,” you say breathlessly. “I think that’s enough—” Shaking his head, he mumbles a nuh-uh into your chest. “Yeah-huh.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. Gliding his hands down your back, he squeezes your ass harshly before gliding across your clit with his thumb. Gasping, your patience starts to run thinner and thinner. 

Lifting your body up, you say, “Sit criss-cross. Following your instructions, your legs wrap around his hips and you kiss him again, his hands exploring your body. Fuck, you need him. 

“Baby,” you sigh between kisses. “Please. I need your cock so bad.”

“Already?”

“You’ve been licking my nipples for an hour,” you giggle. “I’m getting impatient.” Grinding down on him, he’s painfully hard underneath you and god, you just want him inside already. Reaching for his cock, your eyebrows raise, silently asking permission. After earning a nod from him, you slowly sink down, a groan leaving your throat. 

Arching your back, his mouth finds your tits again while his hips thrust into you as if they have a mind of their own. Almost instantaneously, he finds a sensitive spot inside you. 

“You look so sexy in my lap like this,” he whispers, his voice muffled by your chest. Moaning, your head falls back while he grabs your thighs, giving you a good spank. “Your tits are gorgeous,” he says, making you chuckle. “What a great fucking view.” 

The sudden feeling of his mouth on your nipple makes you yelp—you’re still so sensitive. He halts, looking up at you worriedly, asking if you’re alright. . 

“Yes, yes—” you say breathlessly. “It just feels amazing.” He smirks, returning his mouth to you, his tongue never leaving your skin. Stretching his hand over your tummy, his thumb rubs circles over your clit, adding even more sensitivity. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so fast.” You gasp. You’re so fucking close. 

“That’s it, baby.” That fucking sentence. That sentence on it’s own is enough to send shivers down your spine, but the way he says it with that deep fucking voice is incredible. It makes your stomach tie itself in knots, it turns your cheeks red, and makes your head light. “Cum on me,” he says, a satisfied smile pulling at his lips. “Cum all over my fucking cock, babe.” 

With a few final bounces, you let yourself go, cumming hard around him. The feeling you’ve been waiting for crashes over you. Sure, you’d had sex while your piercings were healing, but not having his tongue on your nipples simply wasn’t the same. This new heightened sensitivity has your head reeling. Your shuddering legs can hardly hold your own body up. You’re damp with sweat. 

And fuck does he look good, smirking up at you with that cocky smile, watching you ride out your high. He loves having you cum like this. You look so helpless trying to hold yourself up. 

He doesn’t waste much more time though. Once you catch your breath, he flips you on your back, pinning your hands over your head to kiss you harshly. Thrusting into you again, he stares down at your bouncing tits, gripping one with his left hand, his thumb carefully pressing into your nipple. 

As you moan through gritted teeth, he digs into you, beads of sweat forming at his forehead as he focuses on his movements and making himself feel you. You already had your turn. 

And fuck do you feel good. He’s simply using you as a cocksleeve at this point and you can’t get enough of it. Neither can he. The image of your bouncing tits with pierced nipples is too fucking good. But combine that with your absolutely soaking pussy, he’s in heaven. 

As his thrusts get uneven, he groans, pulling out to pump himself a few times to finish on your tummy. He’s never done this before. He’s always finished inside you or he’s finished on your back and you’ve never seen him touch himself like this. It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. You’d be happy if that was the last image you ever saw. 

Leaving a sloppy kiss on your forehead, he sluggishly stands, leaving you and your heaving chest on your back with your tummy covered in his cum. You’d recovered from your own orgasm, but you’re still short circuiting over seeing him jerk off in front of you. 

“What?” He chuckles at your blank face as he returns with a damp towel. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he snaps you out of your trance. “I gotta say,” you start. “I really liked watching you touch yourself there at the end. I don’t think you’ve ever done that in front of me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…will you do that more often for me?” You ask, running your fingers through his hair.

“Anything for you, babe.”

[nctstar]

1.

chapter 1 | the calling card

You were still panting like mad when you reached out, grabbing desperately at the denim of his ripped jeans. “Don’t go,” you whispered. “Please. There’s still something we need to do together.”

pairing: taeyong x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

genre: mystery-thriller/sci-fi, angst, romance

warnings: sexual references (nothing too graphic)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: i wrote this a looooong time ago, and honestly, i didn't even wanna post it bc it's not that good tbh. but it's like on the verge of being good, yknow? like, there's something there that can be worked with. and also there's not enough taeyong fics on this platform, like me and @starillusion13 are the only ones writing them :(

Tangled mess of bodies, skin to skin, your own hair tickling your bare back. You were breathing onto someone, another human being. Their touches felt like sparks of fire on your skin, and their lips like marks over your face, your neck, your collarbone, as if trying to help you remember. Help you not forget. In the dark, you could make out nothing but the outline of a toned body, the glint of a necklace shaped like a…what seemed like an animal of some sort. You both climaxed, and he was out and on his way in seconds. You were still panting like mad when you reached out, grabbing desperately at the denim of his ripped jeans. “Don’t go,” you whispered. “Please. There’s still something we need to do together.”

Your eyes bolted awake at the relentless drone of your alarm, breaking you out of the dream. The first few seconds rendered you confused, speechless, before it slowly dawned over you that you were awake now and dreaming before. Without thinking, you rubbed your arms. You could still feel him on you, feel his breath, his body, your heart still pounding with the same vigour, body still aching as if it had actually happened.

The question was, who?

The embarrassment set in after that, wondering why you would have a dream like that in the first place. Heat flushed your face as you recalled it choppily, trying not to think about it too much but simultaneously curious. It could’ve been a regular dream about someone your subconscious brain had the hots for…but…

Something stopped your train of thought.

“There’s still something we need to do together.”

You could’ve sworn the feeling of urgency, of desperation, was so real that it felt like something you had gone through yesterday. Even if the mystery hot guy was just a figment of your imagination, there was something you were forgetting to do. Something that was very important. Beyond the regular realms of importance, even.

Something that was a matter of life or death.

You shook your head as the thought even crossed your mind. This was stupid. Making decisions based on how you felt in your dreams was stupid. It was clear that all you needed was to relax and get a boyfriend.

You could’ve gone on with your day then, hopped into the shower, made breakfast, scrolled through your phone for hours before work, but of course, the dream was relentless.

The same necklace as the one your mystery man was wearing, the one you saw as he was on top of you, was right on your bedside table.

∞

“Hello?”

“Hey! I just, need a favour.” You turned the steering wheel, frowning, trying to figure out where you were supposed to be going.

Your coworker was silent on the other line, but before you could add anything, she finally spoke. “Need your shift covered?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry to let you know on such short notice, but something came up. It really did. You know me, I would never do this if it wasn’t urgent.”

She sighed on the other line, and you held your breath, praying she would agree.

“Fine.” She gruffed. “But only because you’re so nice. But you better be here in the afternoon to cover mine. 1pm, got it?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll be done by then.”

“Okay.”

“Wait!” You almost forgot the most important thing, and in your head you could picture your coworker’s finger over the end call button, her patience wearing thin.

“What?”

“Do you know anyone with the initials T.L.?”

This time the silence stretched on for a while, but you could tell she was thinking. “I could be wrong, but I think he’s the music guy that lives on the end of the road where you live. His name started with T for sure, his last name was Lee. I went there once for a party, but I got super hammered and my girlfriend took me home, so I’m not 100% on it.”

“Thank you!” Relief washed over you, and you wondered why. She didn’t even know his name, and there was a very large chance she was wrong. But it felt like the dream was still controlling your emotions, and now, your every move.

“Well, I don’t care, but,” she muttered the next thing so quietly you could’ve missed it. “stay safe. It’s kind of a dodgy place.”

“Will do. Thanks.” Hitting end call, you took a quick glance over at the passenger seat, as if needing to check that the necklace was still there. You knew exactly which house your coworker was talking about, having driven past it a number of times. It was rundown and quiet except for the times it wasn’t, which was some nights all night, when whoever owned the house decided to throw ragers. For some reason, that kind of person didn’t seem to match the man in your dream, but there was a weird feeling in your chest that made you confident that he lived there. And as you drove towards the house, the dilapidated fence in full view, the feeling grew stronger and stronger until it was all you could feel.

Your legs seemed to move on their own accord as you reached the door, not noticing anything else around you. Three sharp knocks on the door and you retreated your hand, waiting for a response.

You heard the lock unclick. For some reason in those milliseconds between that sound and the door opening, you decided to hold your breath, as if needing to brace for impact for whatever would happen next.

You were right.

The man who opened the door would’ve taken your breath away anyway. As he looked at you, his eyes sharp and raging like a dragon’s, you almost forgot why you were even standing at his front door with a necklace of a dog in your hand. His body was lean, slender, just like the body in your dream, and your stomach did backflips at the thought of that again, much to your dismay.

Your eyes then fell onto what shocked you back into reality. Those jeans, ripped, frayed, hanging low around his small hips. You were sure they were the same ones. The ones you had grabbed in your dream in pure desperation as he was walking away from you, begging him to stay, to listen.

“Don’t go, please.”

“Are you gonna stand there all day checking me out?”

His voice snapped your eyes back onto his face, and instinctively, to his bare neck.

“Right, um,” you took a second to come to your senses, bringing your right hand higher, as if reminding your brain what you came here to do. “The necklace.”

“What?”

You mentally slapped yourself. Can’t even form a full sentence?

“I have your necklace. I think this is yours. It says T.L. on the back, and I assumed, well, my friend, I think-“

“Why would you have my necklace?” When he said you, he scanned you up and down, and you suddenly felt very exposed, and very stupid. Flustered, you tried to continue.

“I…don’t really know?” You gave him a dumb smile, which he was not impressed by, judging by his unchanged expression. He looked at you, sighed, and went to close the door.

“Wait-“

You were met with a slam.

∞

“And that’s all? You just drove away after that?”

“Yeah.” you bit your fingers, to which your coworker reacted by slapping your hands away.

She looked puzzled. “But I don’t understand. He didn’t even ask to look at the necklace. Or ask where you found it. And he wasn’t wearing a necklace, right? So it’s safe to say he noticed that his one necklace was missing.”

“Honestly, I think he was judging me.”

“Judging you? How so?”

You sighed, bending over the counter to rub incessantly at the stubborn spots. “It was like he was thinking, ‘as if you’d ever have a chance with me’.”

“Wait, wait, slow down. Why would your brain immediately go to that?”

You hadn’t told her about the dream, just telling her that you had found the necklace on the street. Something in you knew it was crazy, the dream, and then the necklace on the nightstand, and you were still trying to figure out what it all meant.

“Well, he’s a player, right? That’s what you said. So, other than someone potentially finding his dropped necklace on the street, how else could someone have acquired said necklace?”

Your coworker’s look of confusion didn’t last long as the realisation fell across her features. “Ohhh. Well, first of all, he shouldn’t think of himself as incapable of losing a necklace on the street. And secondly,” she paused, watching you rub the counter to death, gritting your teeth, “you’re such a catch.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

She zoned out for a second, watching the spot on the counter, before shaking her head and grabbing her bag off the tall countertop seats. “I better get going, then. Have fun.”

You made a grumbly noise in response as she walked away, finally giving up on the stubborn spot and deciding to place a pot plant on top to cover it up. Looking around and noticing all the customers seated, dining, and relatively satisfied, you felt relaxed enough to lean onto the back benchtop. The lunchtime rush was over, it seemed.

You were grabbing a chair to bring it back for yourself when the bell on the door jittered, causing you to roll your eyes. Moment of peace over, it seemed. Before you turned, you tried to rid the annoyed expression off your face, replacing it with your friendly customer service one.

“Hi, how are y-“ It was as if someone had punched you in the gut, the way air rushed out of your lungs, threatening to topple you over like an unstable Jenga tower. In front of you stood your mystery man, his eyes just as serious as this morning. Behind him was a woman, looking about your age, dressed in a black crop top and tiger print miniskirt, giant hoops dangling against her tight black curls. She smacked her gum, smiling fakely as she looked you up and down.

“Hey, can we get a table?”

You gulped, suddenly feeling very out of place. “Yep. Right this way.”

Even as you walked turned away from them, you could’ve sworn you could feel their eyes burning your back.

“Thanks.” said the woman, flashing another fake smile so big you could see the gum across her teeth. She shuffled into one side while he sat on the other, dragging a black leather bag along the seat with him. You noticed her eyeing that bag hungrily, as if she was a lion and it contained raw meat or something.

“Can I get you two anything to start?”

The woman leaned over dramatically, swishing the curls away from her face and resting her mile-long nails on your forearm. “I’ll have a coke, dear. And he’ll have the same thing. God knows he can’t keep a drink down, am I right, Tae?” She laughed so hard at this, and your eyes flicked to the man from this morning, who was staring at her expressionless.

You didn’t waste a second walking over to the kitchen, your instincts quick to remove you from the most awkward situation you had probably been in in a long time. Your thoughts ran wild, no matter how hard you tried to suppress them. You thought about your dream, the necklace, the urgency of whatever it was you needed to do. Why did it feel like you were getting a second chance?

Tae?

Walking over, carrying the cokes on a tray, you decided to try again. “Here you go, your co-“

“I just don’t understand why you want it so bad?”

“Baby, I just want to listen to your tracks!”

“You’ve heard them! Why do you need them so badly? You don’t even have a phone or computer to listen to them yourself. It’s just weird.”

“What is it, Taeyong? You just don’t trust me? Is that it?” The woman was fuming, you could tell, and she stood up, throwing one of the napkins on the floor.

Taeyong. Taeyong Lee.

“You know what, I just think you’re being very stupid right now, Alyssa.”

The woman, now identified as Alyssa, let out an angry grunt before leaving, almost knocking you in the process. She was close, but you were quick to move out of her way, saving yourself.

You wished you could’ve done the same thing just seconds later.

“Oh my god!” You watched in horror as the morbidly dark drink stained Taeyong’s shirt, seeping into the fabric. “I’m so sorry!”

He said nothing in return, accepting your napkin as you watched him closely. He sighed, his mind obviously somewhere else with the way he gently brushed the stain.

“I’m so-“

“Don’t apologise twice. I heard you the first time.” Hearing him address you so bluntly shocked you, as if your brain had accepted the fact that someone like him would never even acknowledge your presence. He had made it seem like that though, when he had practically slammed the door in your face. Your mind focusing on that again felt unnecessary, and you tried to shake the outlines of his body, his eyes boring into you, the way his fingers wrapped around the doorframe out of your memory.

“You’re the girl who came to see me about my necklace, right?” You almost jumped out of your skin as your brain processed his words, hands shaking as you tilted the now empty glass upright on the tray. “Uh, yeah, that was me.” The way the words flew out of your mouth surprised you, as if it was rehearsed and familiar.

“Where did you find it?” It was a simple question, a reasonable one, yet something in you protested not to tell him. Ignoring that feeling, you replied, looking into his eyes, “On the street.”

“What? It can’t be.”

“__.” Your coworker’s voice drifted over your shoulder, and you spun your head around to see her standing behind you, visibly concerned. “What’s going on? You alright?”

The sudden tenderness in her voice was disconcerting, because it was definitely not how she usually was. You felt weird, like this was all a weird dream that your consciousness was just floating through, and you wondered when you would snap out of this dizzy, floaty feeling in your limbs.

“Uh,” Taeyong’s eyes were shifting between you and your coworker, confused at your lack of response. “She accidentally spilt these…well…” his voice suddenly quietened, and he looked down, as if he was trying to remember what actually happened.

Looking straight at you, he finished, “It was Alyssa, another customer’s fault. She bumped into her and the drinks spilt on me, and she’s trying to clean it up now. It’s fine.”

“__?” Your coworker asked for a second time, as if trying to check is that true?

“Yeah.” Your voice was shaky, overwhelmed. “I, uh, this woman bumped into me. But I should’ve been more careful. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I was just asking. Well, you can,” she glanced at the wet napkins now stained with coke and back up at Taeyong with a somewhat desolate gaze, “you can continue. I was just checking if there was a problem.”

“No problem,” you looked into her eyes and forced a smile. She quickened her pace as she furthered from you and Taeyong, her shoes tapping on the linoleum floor. The embarrassment finally began to set in, and you wished you could disappear. You wished Taeyong wasn’t here – no, scratch that. You wished you hadn’t woken up this morning and tried to return his necklace. You wished you hadn’t come into work late and met him here. If you had come in early, you wouldn’t have seen him, and all this would never have happened. You wouldn’t be shaking as you cleaned up coke with wet paper towels that were now disintegrating between your fingers, wondering why you were so nervous.

There was something between the two of you – some peculiar energy that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You had thought it was just you, that it was just the dream – but you knew Taeyong was staring at you intensely, boring holes into your skull, as if willing you to look up at him and meet your gaze. Your stomach was churning painfully, the remnants of your morning iced coffee uncomfortably swirling around, and your heartbeat felt erratic, like it was running away from you.

Did you like him? Was he attractive? Was that why you were melting like putty in his presence? You thought of your dream, and blood rushed to your cheeks shamelessly as soon as the images flashed through your brain, as if your body was responding. But it didn’t make any sense - you had never met him before. You didn’t even know his name until 2 minutes ago. Why would you dream about someone you’d never seen before?

The sound of the fabric on the seat next to you snapped you out of the babel of thoughts in your head immediately, and you registered what was happening.

Taeyong Lee was now squatting in front of you, looking down, his straight locks shrouding his eyes from your view. His legs were long, almost langly, and his knees were wandering dangerously close to yours.

“Let me help.”

“Oh no, no. It’s totally fine.” You said weakly, but he had already started picking up tiny shards of glass, and you watched, feeling even more embarrassed. Out of instinct, you looked up, and sure enough, half of the customers were looking over at the two of you on the floor. Your coworker was nowhere to be found.

“No seriously, you’ll get me in trouble.” You had no idea why you said that, where the sudden confidence came from, but it made him stop and stare directly at you. They were the same fiery eyes from this morning, but they were more unfocused now, like he was thinking about something else, and he had to force his attention back to you with every passing second. You stared back, slightly mesmerised, and decided to continue to prevent some impending awkward silence. “I mean, this is my job and all. Glass, it’s uh, dangerous to customers, you know?”

Ladies and gentlemen, introducing the world’s worst conversationalist.

He chuckled, and it’s like your body had a visceral reaction, almost jumping in surprise. “Fine, Miss safety. I’ll get out of your way.” His voice was light and airy now, like this was a movie and the director had just said cut and the actor was easing out of character. For a moment, you felt like the pieces were falling into place, like everything was going as it should be.

Taeyong stood up, brushed his hands on his jeans, and towered over you. You looked up. The sun was beaming through the window, casing his head in a bright glow and obscuring most of his face from your view. You could see the pieces of his pin-straight hair brushing his forehead and the bridge of his nose, and your heart panged with a short-lived nostalgia.

“Bring the necklace to my place when you finish. We need to talk.”

[linahopeeeee]

in one of your stays you ask for an idea to write because ya were bored so here I am with an idea that I was dying to read but I can't get it down on paper:

what do you think about waking up in bed with a bad hangover, and finding baku and deku Very much naked, realizing you're naked yourself remembering that the three of you fucked like rabbits in a lot of different positions last night after returning drunk from a party trown by the bakusquad?

(bonus if make bkdk fucking eachother too, not only the reader 😏😏)

"I cant think straight, my Head is fucking pounding and there is a unholy amount of cum driping down my ass, I need a fucking shower" -reader at some point

Notes: this ended up being longer than i thought it was going to be tbh, but anyways here you go! hopefully it doesn't suck.

~~~~~~~

Your head is pounding, and why is it so damn bright? You sit up with a groan, your muscles screaming at you, eyes still closed to attempt to keep out the harsh sunlight.

The first thing you realize is the fact that you’re naked, but you don’t think much about that, sometimes you sleep naked at home, but then then the sound of someone snoring next to you has your eyes flying open.

Green is all you see. Why are you in bed with Izuku? You look to the other side of you and your eyes widen when you see a shirtless Katsuki. Hesitantly, you lift the blanket off of your body, eyes widening when you see all three of you are naked.

Memories of last night begin to come back.

~~~~~~

Katsuki and a couple other people threw a party last night, and there was alcohol, so, so much alcohol. you spent the night drinking, dancing and having a great time.

Speaking of dancing, your currently grinding against Katsuki, as the blonde grips your hips and dances with you, whispering words of filth in your ear.

Izuku stands off to the side as he watches you and Katsuki dance, alcohol has a way of forcing the dirtiest thoughts in that head of his, and seeing the way your ass is pressed against Kacchan’s dick has his own twitching in his pants.

It wasn’t until everyone else had gone home and it was just the three of you left that’s when the actual party started.

“l-lets play a g-game!” izuku hiccups excitedly from the floor, tugging your arm and forcing you to sit on his lap

“what kind of game?” you ask, subconsciously wiggling your hips to get into a more comfortable position, forcing Izuku to bite back a moan.

Izuku begins stroking his chin as if he’s deep in thought, in reality he’s been thinking about this for the past hour. He knew it had to be a game that was easy for him to cheat but also a game that everyone knew how to play. “how about uno, with a twist” he says grinning mischievously

“I love uno!” you exclaim “but what’s the twist?”

“every time you lose the game you have to take off an article of clothing.”

Your eyes widen for a second as thoughts of Katsuki and Izuku naked in front of you floods your brain. “only if Katsuki wants you play” you stutter, gaze flicking towards Katsuki who’s smirking at the two of you.

He says nothing as he stands and walks over to the cabinet where all his games are and grabs the uno from the shelf. You watch with cloudy eyes as he walks over to the two of you, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and nibbling on it softly.

“she cant be sitting on your lap if we’re going to play” with that you scramble off of Izuku’s lap and crawl your way to sit on the floor between them, giving Izuku the perfect view of your ass.

Katsuki and Izuku share a knowing glance as Katsuki beings to pass out the cards.

Twenty minutes later and each of you have lost multiple pieces of clothes, you’re down to just your bra and panties, Izuku only has his boxers left and Katsuki still has on his shirt and boxers.

“how about for this last round we up the stakes? both of the losers have to take off everything?” Katsuki suggests, looking at both of you for your answer, smirking when both of you agree.

Izuku ends up winning and you and Katsuki are forced to strip down to nothing. Your arms instinctively come up to cover you from their eyes, but Katsuki stops you before then can.

“you don’t have to hide from us y/n” he says as he gently takes your wrist in his hands and move them back down to your side. You try to keep your eyes on his face but cant help but lower your gaze.

Your eyes widen as you take in his length, tongue poking out to lick your lips. “fuck” you mumble quietly, but they both heard you.

A chuckle rips through Katsuki “like what you see baby?” he questions, head cocked to the side. He expects for you to be shy, maybe attempt to hide your face like you usually do whenever he says something suggestive to you.

But to his surprise you don’t. “yes” you say boldly, eyes finally leaving his dick in order to look him directly in his eyes. The look in his eyes is enough to tell you that he wants this just as much as you do, so you waste no time pushing at his shoulders, forcing him to lay down as you straddle him, your lips on his instantly

The feeling on your bare pussy on his dick has him groaning into your mouth, your arousal coating him almost immediately.

Izuku watches as the two of you make out, hand palming himself over his underwear, before he makes his way over to you.

He fakes a pout “ah no fair! I want kisses too” he says, but to his surprise it isn’t you that grabs the back of his head and smashes your lips together, its Katsuki.

You watch the two of them with parted lips, hands moving towards your tits where you gently pinch your hardened nipples, moaning as pleasure courses through you. Katsuki moves on of your hands and begin pinching and tugging at one of your nipples.

A squeal falls from your lips and Izuku picks you up and begins walking you in the direction of the bedroom, Katsuki close on his heels. Izuku gently tosses you on the bed and crawls between your legs.

He licks a strip from your slit up to your clit, moaning as your arousal coats his tongue, before sucking your puffy clit into his mouth.

“fuck zu!” you whine, eyeing Katsuki as he walks past the bed and over towards the nightstand, grabbing something you cant see before walking behind Izuku. He pulls Izuku’s boxers down and applies a generous amount of lube to his fingers, rubbing it around Izuku’s rim, causing him to moan against your clit, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through your body.

Katsuki spends the next few minutes working Izuku open and Izuku continues his assault on your pussy, at some point he added his fingers and has been thrusting them deep inside your walls, curling them every so often, smiling against you as you gasp when they graze that spot that has you seeing stars.

You feel that familiar tightening in your stomach. but it isn’t until Katsuki pushes the tip of his dick inside Izuku’s tight rim and he moans against you that you finally tip over the edge, orgasm ripping through your body with a loud whine.

That’s how the rest of the night is spent, with Katsuki and Izuku pulling orgasm after orgasm from you until your sobbing into the sheets, forcing their loads into you and each other until everyone’s too exhausted to keep going.

~~~~~~

Your hand begins to shake Izuku awake, brain remembering the every little detail of the eventful night you all shared last night.

“what! Whats wrong?” Izuku asks, quickly sitting up. He looks around the room for any signs of danger, a look of confusion takes over his features when he doesn’t see any danger.

“what wrong is I can’t think straight, my Head is fucking pounding and there is a unholy amount of cum dripping down my ass, I need a fucking shower" with that you climb around Izuku and walk towards the bathroom, both of them following.

“we’re just trying to save water” Katsuki says with a smirk, you have a feeling this is going to be a long shower.

[yanderu-deredere]

hook.

★ your friends decide to do a road trip across a few states, to the coast! what's better than the beautiful boardwalk of lovelock after all? and they need a fifth person to come with them! so, of course, they drag you along. what could go wrong?

a/n: okay so ill be honest, i was kinda nervous to post this cus this is like way longer than my usual shit TBH but i really wanted to write this out and i felt like the usual bulletted thing wouldn't do my idea justice i guess? so have this word vomit LOL cus this baby has more parts (i think)

also these yanderes are very much inspired by all my favourite slashers (think hannibal meets chainsaw massacre meets house of wax) so the themes will be a bit more graphic

part one (here) ★ part two (line.) ★ part three (sinker.) ★ part four (?)

pairing: casimir fiala x reader x emmaline fiala word count: 3236

warning: gender neutral reader, reader is attacted to male and female yandere, readers friends are lowkey pieces of shit LOL, final ship is poly

"This doesn't look like Lovelock." Chloe muttered in that tone that just slightly grated against your nerves.

You, half asleep and kind of buried in bags, jolted at the sound of her voice. You glanced around, eyes blurry and your brain pounding just a little bit. The price of sleeping on a road trip, you supposed.

You looked over to the side to see what your friends were up to.

Chloe, the resident bottle-blonde of the group, had her entire body leaning a bit too heavily against her boyfriend Dirk as she tried to shove her torso out the window.

Dirk, too preoccupied with her body to really pay attention to anything else, only hummed and held her by the hip to prevent her from falling entirely out the side of the van.

You sighed and turned to your other side, trying to make out what your friend was so desperate to see outside.

All you could see, however, was what looked like an abandoned town. There was a little play ground, a parking lot beside that, some apartment buildings too--

Suddenly, the van skid to a halt, making everyone almost fall forward.

"Bran, you fucking bastard!" Dirk cursed before cradling Chloe's head to his chest "You okay, baby?"

Chloe, of course, played the whole thing up, whining up a storm. You just rubbed your neck, ignoring everyone else as you tried to figure out why the sudden stop.

In front of the car was a man much too well dressed for his surroundings. I mean, what business did he have in this place that he needed to wear a button down for? Plus he had what looked like a medical mask on?

What did you guys drive into, Chernobyl?

Anyway, you couldn't see the rest of his face very well because he had long hair with white side pieces and they were covering his face a bit too much but he was waving the van down.

Suddenly, as you were peering out the side of the van, your eyes met his sharp green ones and you felt a jolt of electricity down your spine.

You had a bad feeling about this place and about this man.

Still, not like you could say much. Who'd listen to you? Certainly not anyone else inside the van.

The man walked up to the driver's side, probably to talk to your friend Bran and give him directions. Thankfully, you were on the same side so you could do a little bit of eavesdropping on your own from your open window.

Observing him, you couldn't help but think that he was especially tall. He looked like he could almost be as tall as the van itself! You'd estimate his height at 6ft at least.

You couldn't even imagine how small you were compared to him if the two of you stood side by side.

"You're not supposed to be here. This is private property." The stranger explained and, though he was talking to Bran, you couldn't help but feel like he kept glancing at you from the corners of his eyes "You have to turn back and leave."

Now that he spoke, you also noted how deep his voice was. Though, you supposed, not surprising considering his height.

Big man, deep voice, you noted to yourself before mentally laughing at your own idiocy.

"What? There's no other way?" Bran's indignant tone pulled you out of your thoughts "I was so sure there was a way through here, up to Lovelock."

The stranger solemnly nodded as if completely understanding "There used to be but, after they shut down the factory, the Pharmaceutical company prevents people from passing through here."

Bran seemed to open his mouth to say something inflammatory. After all, he was known in your group to be a bit hot-headed. Even now, you couldn't see his face but you could imagine how red it was.

Kathy, Bran's girlfriend and your best friend, thankfully leaned over from the front passenger seat, her hand rubbing her boyfriend's thigh "It's all good! Sorry for the trouble and thanks for letting us know."

The man gave a curt nod "Just didn't want you all to incur the fines. The company still has the cameras up and there was a sign at the entrance saying something about trespassers."

"What are you, a glorified security guard?" Bran managed at least one quip and you saw Kathy hit him especially hard on the knee for that one.

You couldn't see the man's mouth from under the mask but you definitely felt like you could see his lips shift into a grin from under the cotton "Something like that."

Bran just scoffed and started backing the van up. The man backed away, giving a curt nod.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see Kathy conspiratorially whisper 'crazy weirdo' to you, Dirk and Chloe. Of course, you elected to ignore her.

Instead, you kept your eyes trained on the stranger, still curious as to why he was there.

When his eyes landed on you, you gave him a curt wave. A good-bye. Silently, you mouthed an apology for your rude friend. He gave another curt nod, and you left it at that.

Something about his green eyes unnerved you though--

There was a loud pop and the van jolted, making almost everyone inside scream. Bran himself let out a rather loud fuck!

"What the fuck was that?" He slammed his palm against the steering wheel, that explosive temper getting the best of him.

You watched as the stranger came over and looked at the car, observing it a bit before letting out a rather tired sigh "You popped a tire."

Bran's head swiveled to him and, if looks could kill, that man would've been dead "A tire?"

"This place is abandoned, they don't exactly up-keep the roads." The man explained, crouching to try and see what was wrong with said tire "You must have run over a rusty nail or an especially bad pothole."

Then there was a thumping sound, like he was ripping something out of the rubber "Or a giant copper hook."

Bran slammed his door open and marched over, getting to the tire just as the man stood up.

You watched it all happen and you've known Bran for a while. The two of you were taking the same undergraduate major, after all. You knew Bran was the sporty type, confident and cocky. He was maybe 5'8 on a good day.

This man dwarfed Bran when he stood. Definitely taller than 6ft then. Maybe 6'5?

He placed the hook he took out of the tire into Bran's hand and, though it looked rather hefty in Bran's hand, it seemed a bit smaller in his.

Any bravado Bran had vanished like the wind. Of course, Bran was still Bran so he grumbled, complaining as he dropped the rusty thing before he squatted down to figure out what was wrong with the tire.

You saw Kathy from the corner of your eye dialing a number. You figured it was probably triple-A or some other towing service that could help the group out.

For some reason, you didn't want to look away from the stranger.

He seemed to have the same idea because, as he took out a walkie-talkie from his belt, his green eyes were trained on you again.

Without taking his eyes off you, he took a slender finger and lowered his mask, tucking it under his chin. He had a crooked smile on his face, something like a mixture between a grimace and forced pleasantry.

Near the corner of his face, there was an indent of a diagonal scar. It stretched from above his lip to the center of his chin. You let yourself wonder why he had it. It split his lips a little, made him look kind of devilish.

"Another car needs help." He spoke into the little device, holding it in the palm of his hand and jostling it a little, making the antenna of it wiggle back and forth.

"Miscreants?" The static of it answered back, crackling and almost indecipherable.

The man laughed and you felt your heart skip just a little bit of a beat "No, just people who took a wrong turn. They seem very nice."

You tried to ignore the flash of sharp teeth in his mouth and chalked it off to genetics. Sometimes people just had especially sharp canines, right? Though something felt predatory about his. Not vampiric, maybe, but definitely wolfish.

"What's wrong with their car?" The longer sentence was easier to understand but it was filled with just as much static.

"Popped a tire on the main road." The man answered as he put his free hand in his pocket "They were trying to take the short-cut to Lovelock."

The sentence came out as a drawl, like there was a funny joke about it that you weren't privy to. Your head cocked a little, trying to figure out what it could mean.

He returned your look of curiosity with a small little smirk and a shrug, cocking his hip a little as he shifted his weight from one foot to another

Someone hissed out your name and you turned, finally breaking the staring game in between you and the stranger.

You turned to Kathy with a confused expression on your face, your eyebrow cocked "What's up?"

"I have like no signal like at all." She whispered to you as if it was the end of the world and she wanted only you to know.

Of course, since the two of you were sitting in a cramped van, the other two people in the van heard loud and clear.

"What!" Chloe shouted, scrambling for her own marble-cased phone "There's no signal?"

"No, 'fraid not."

You flinched, head quickly turning when you felt a breath against your ear. Suddenly, the stranger was leaning into the window of the van, crossed arms resting against the lip of the window.

Your wide eyes met his green ones again and he grinned, all wolfish and devilish and all your observations about him seemed to flash warning signs in your head.

"Something about the old factory leaking radiation or something." He answered easily enough just as you scooted a little so he wasn't talking right into your now rather hot ear

You nodded slowly but the tone of his voice as he spoke was that same tone he used when he mentioned the city; like he was telling half-truths and it was on a need to know basis and you didn't need to know.

You had been on the receiving end of that bullshit for so long, with the same exact friends you were with in the van, that you could detect it from a mile away.

"Plus, they've shut down the cell towers near here already." He gestured flimsily in some direction, probably to said cell towers.

Then, there was silence in the van. Chloe kept fiddling with her phone. Dirk, as always, looked distrustfully at the stranger, like a toddler who'd get his toy snatched away the moment he dropped his guard. The toy of course, being Chloe. Kathy just looked panicked and anxious.

You were anxious too. You were never good with silence.

As a way to make conversation, you fiddled with your fingers and decided to introduce yourself before asking the stranger who he was and what he was doing there.

You really didn't think he'd answer.

"Casimir Fiala." His name flipped off of his tongue with a fascinating smoothness "I'm just here to... research... the abandoned buildings."

There it was again, that need-to-know-only tone. This time, you waved away the blaring alarms in your head, tucking them away to note later. Instead, you decided to joke with him "Guess you're not a glorified security guard."

"Sometimes it feels like it." He flashed you a snide half smirk and there was a part of you that felt satisfied that, this time, it felt like you were in on the joke.

It definitely made you grin, that was for sure. Before you could respond, though, the sound of a motorcycle suddenly filled the area, getting closer and closer till it was accompanied by the crunch of gravel.

"That will be my wife." Casimir yelled above the noise as he backed away from the window and tucked his arms behind his back in one fluid motion.

When he did, you couldn't help but curiously peer out.

Just as he said, a woman appeared on a motorcycle, dust cloud surrounding her. If Casimir was overdressed, this woman was underdressed.

She was wearing skin-tight clothes, cargo pants, the works. She looked like she was dressed for an action movie.

Hell, she looked she herself walked out of an action movie. She was buff, tanned, tattooed all over, almost as tall as her husband. She looked like she could take a steel bar and bend it in half.

With fingerless gloves, she removed her motorcycle helmet and her hair fell fluttering out. She had one lock of hair at the very front braided, some of it pulled back, but the rest of it cascaded rather messily, covering most of the right side of her face.

It looked like a bad blue dye job that was already growing back out but, somehow, she made it look ruggedly sexy.

That wasn't what was surprising. What was surprising was the eye patch and the burn scars.

"Oh my god." Kathy gasped out and you could see her and Chloe pull out their phones as if trying to film some circus freak.

Immediately, you were pushing their phones away, scowling at them as you tried to keep your voice down "What the fuck, dude, are you guys serious?"

You could see Casimir walk over to his wife, probably to talk to her about fixing your wheel. How kind of them. All the while, your friends were spitting on that kindness by mocking his wife.

"But like, did you see her?" Chloe tittered, looking through her gallery to try and see if she got a good photo but then pouting when she didn't.

"You're disgusting, Chloe." You spat out, hoping the absolute vitriol in your voice could snap her out of this weird Mean Girls trance she was in "They're trying to fucking help us and this is the thanks you're giving them?"

Kathy just scoffed and flipped her hair. "They're the ones who stopped us and got our tires popped."

"We're the ones that trespassed on private property." You snapped back and, suddenly, you felt too suffocated in the van. You knew who your friends were, of course, and you knew them to be the type of people to make small mean jokes but this was way too much.

You got out of the van, your arms crossed and wrapped around yourself, anything to give yourself any ounce of comfort.

This entire trip was a bad idea to begin with. You hadn't wanted to go but your friends insisted over and over that they wanted you around. You thought 'why not?' but, in the end, you turned out more of a fifth wheel than anything else.

"Oh, hey." Bran greeted you as you stepped up to the trio who were discussing how to fix the car "What's up?"

"Nothing, just wanted to stretch my legs." You lied easily enough since you didn't really want to tell Bran about how bitch-y his girlfriend was being.

Bran believed you, of course. He was too focused on being annoyed by the entire situation anyway. He seemed at least placated by the fact that he wouldn't have to pay for a new tire.

"Thank you so much, by the way, for like helping us out and shelling out cash for a tire." You decided to say since Bran definitely wouldn't say it. The smile on Casimir's wife's face was definitely worth it.

Casimir seemed to realise something because he looked at you in shock before gesturing to you and introducing you by name to his wife "And this is my wife Emm, she's the muscle of this entire operation."

"Nice to meet you." She put her hand out and you were about to take it only for her to quickly pull it back and wipe it on her pants "Sorry, I've been fixing machines all day. I'm dirty as all hell."

"No worries! Not like I'm all showered! We've been on the road for like three days now!" You waved off her concern and held out your hand.

Hesitantly, she took it and the two of you shook hands.

You noted that the burns she had on one side of her face seemed to spread down her body because her entire arm from shoulder to wrist (or what wasn't covered by her gloves) were covered in wrinkly scar tissue.

You tried not to stare. She probably got enough of that in her day-to-day, she didn't need it from you too.

You hoped she didn't get it from Bram already. He could be so insensitive without even thinking about it.

"Anyway, I was just sayin' that I'd love t' ride over to the gate, the one leadin' to Lovelock and send out a call, try to get triple-A over." Emm cupped the side of her neck, looking rather thoughtful "Boss won't be happy since we ain't suppos't have people over but."

Then she shrugged as if she was trying to say 'what can you do' before continuing "I got to go soon, though, 'cus I saw that the weather was suppos't to be terrible later today and--"

As if on que, thunder rumbled above, almost as loudly as Emm's motorcycle. You groaned because of course the weather would turn this horrible so rapidly and just when you needed it not to.

"Fuck." Bran put it so eloquently just as the rain started pouring as if the heavens above ripped open the clouds "Why can't you go while it's raining?"

"She only has a motorcycle." Casimir reminded him, his tone implying that fact in and of itself should've been explanation enough, his expression challenging Bran to say otherwise.

Emm looked much more apologetic but only by a bit "Plus, the road to Lovelock is 30 minutes and it's known to landslide when it's rainin'. I'm willin' to help ya'll but not that willin'."

Bran let out another expletive while you gave them an apologetic smile and a thank you.

"I'll be happy to invite ya'll over to our house. We live only a minute or two from here." Emm continued as Casimir shielded her with his lab coat, ducking her head a little as she walked closre to you so you could hear her over the hiss of the rain "It'll be better than that cramped van."

"I'll let everyone know!" You yelled, smiling gratefully at the couple.

Part of your brain registered the warning signs in your head. After all, though you'd tried your best to be polite to them, you did remember how odd Casimir seemed when you first encountered him.

Still, they were trying their hardest to accommodate your group. And, after how rude your friends were, you felt an odd obligation to make up for how mean your friends had been.

After all, what was the worst that could happen from just being nice?

[yakuzacanons]

Hi! Can I request an onsen date hcs with Saejima please? Maaaaybe it can be a bit spicy, I don't mind. At all! 😘 Thank you!

Things that I imagine in my brain like yes????? Such a good idea???? I oughta just go to an onsen myself one of these days tbh, maybe the steam will be good for me lol

Tallest, widest shoulder man in the entire onsen... Seriously, it doesn't matter how far he sinks into the water, his head and shoulders are just fully sticking out. Man's the size of a building.

As a date, the two of you get a lot of stares, especially from the staff, because Saejima is such a burly guy by comparison. It looks like a giant guy walking around behind some small, unassuming person who doesn't know there's a giant muscular guy right behind them.

The vibe is very much that Saejima looks dark and stormy but is actually a little sunshine on the inside. Always very polite with staff. He does have to ask for extra towels a lot, he usually needs at least 2 to dry off from a basic shower so... you do the math.

Quite a traditionalist, has his own little routine. Nothing like a traditional Japanese meal after a hot bath at the onsen, especially with fresh ingredients. Man's living the life out here, honestly!

As much as Saejima would just love to get spicy with you, he's kind of shy, funnily enough. It's one thing if you two are sharing a room for the night, in which case he'll be popping off but while the two of you are busy soaking in the water, he'll just kind of go red in the face thinking about what you might be doing on the other side of the fence, since an onsen is typically separated by gender.

If it's particularly empty at the onsen, he'll talk to you through the fencing. Might even talk dirty to you if he's feeling brave. His deep voice can drive you crazy, even if he's a little flustered himself.

Regardless, you WILL be getting pounded in the room after a good soak, the two of you aren't getting all hot and steamy in them baths to not put it to good use! Hope you're ready.

[gabessquishytum]

My brain just went to angst and hurt comfort land after reading your post about Dream feeling the need to feed Hob.

So Dream starts pulling food from dreams for Hob. The food is delicious, and Hob feels full after eating, but it is still dream food even when it is brought into the waking world. It's rare that people dream about the nutritional content of food, the flavor and satiated feeling of eating sure, but not the actual components that a body breaks down to keep itself healthy.

What this means is that Hob is more or less eating tasty styrofoam. His brain feels like he is getting everything he needs since the food tastes like it has the right nutrition, so there are no hunger signals, and he feels very little need to eat other foods. Despite his brain overriding his body's signals, he is still in need of nutrition. This means Hob starts dropping weight as his body starts taking what it needs from his fat and muscel because food isn't an option.

Dream notices the weight loss, and alarmed by it starts feeding Hob more. This only amplifies the issue, and Hob starts looking and feeling worse and worse. Dream goes into an absolute panic, trying to figure out who/what is making Hob sick. He is sure that something has cursed Hob, that it is punishment from the fates or something similar.

When they figure it out, Dream feels absolutely horrible. He has been starving Hob all this time. Dream, being Dream, isn't dealing with the situation well at all. Hob isn't mad though, how was Dream to know that what can feed endless, goddesses, and other non-human beings wouldn't work for a mortal. Sure, it's distressing, but Hob knows how to bounce back now that he knows the cause.

When he is feeling more energetic, Hob does drag Dream into the kitchen and starts teaching him how humans cook. Dream starts out of guilt, but eventually comes to enjoy the process because there are all kinds of stories in food and cooking, and Hob loves to go on about the ones he knows as they make things together. It is also time spent close to Hob, so Dream is happy about that too. They figure out what they each like to cook and eat and end up with their own handwritten recipe book covered in cooking stains and filled with affection and care.

If months into this new joint hobby, they both have filled out and are more comfortable in their bodies, well that is what good food cooked with love can do for you.

-💥

Oh noooo 😭😭 this reminded me of famine in Good Omens!! Only Dream is feeding Hob stuff with no nutritional content BY ACCIDENT. Ouch.

Of course Dream is wracked with guilt about this and feels like such an IDIOT. He's been around for millennium, why didn't he figure out that Hob wasn't getting the right stuff from the dream food right away?! Hob just pats him gently and says that he didn't work it out, and he's human, so Dream really mustn’t blame himself.

But Dream is nothing if not a martyr. He's determined to feed Hob back to full health, with actual good food this time. He does cheat a tiny bit, but only with cleaning up after himself (because he doesn't dare to leave Hob’s beloved kitchen in such a terrible state).

Hob has no complaints, now that Dream is serving up a gourmet menu that won't accidentally make him malnourished. He gains back everything that he lost and gets plenty of opportunity to tone his muscles because Dream even insists on giving him physiotherapy! If the exercises turn into sexytimes occasionally, that's OK. Hob’s just glad that Dream has lifted out of his guilt ridden depressive state and is ready to enjoy the finer things in life again.

And if Hob gains a few extra pounds more than he had before, then he sees no reason to complain. He knows that Dream is determined to see him safe and soft, and that Dream has found a genuine love for cooking. Its a little funny to see the dreamlord in his frilly black apron, puzzling over a recipe book, but Hob just thinks he's the most lovely thing in the universe tbh. He'll gladly eat anything that Dream serves up for him. Especially if they can enjoy dessert together!

[cherryxblossxms]

Hehehe good day, Minx!!! My brain is in a state with all of this Nightbringer news. So of course my mind is on my darling Beelzebub.

Could I request F, H, K, and T from the A-Z NSFW list? ❤️❤️❤️ ily bunches!

I know what you mean! I'm excited to get more content with the boys. Here's some sweet and spicy Beelzebub for you~

[Mentions of primal play and lactation kink in K section]

Beelzebub

F for Favorite (What do they find sexiest about their partner?)

He loves when you're honest with him, tbh. He gets confused by people that play games or make jokes, he doesn't always understand it and it feels unnecessary to make things more complicated than they should be. So when you're straightforward in your desires to him, it's really a turn on to know how he affects you. Especially during sex, he loves if you tell him how something feels for you, if you like when he does something in particular, because he'll store that deep in his memory for next time

H for Hands (What do they do with their hands during sex?)

Honestly his hands aren't too exploratory during sex on their own, but if you encourage him or direct him, he's happy to put them wherever you'd like. Mostly, his hands will be stationary on your waist or hips, strong fingers anchored as he pounds into you. The same goes for when he's going down on you, they're like a vice when he's holding your legs open so he can lap at your arousal unimpeded. As mentioned, if you just direct him on where you want his hands to go, he's happy to put them there, like if you want him to touch your arousal, your neck, nipples, etc.

K for Kink (What’s their secret kink?)

I'm sure we've all seen it around, but breeding would be a big one for Beel. He just loves the idea of having a big family, he's used to it after all. And especially thinking about a family with his S/O, regardless of whether you can actually get pregnant or not, his body will still make the effort to fuck you full of his cum.

Boy also has a size kink, or maybe power/strength kink????? Although he's the sixth sibling in terms of power, he's still got an edge on his brothers just on physical stature and muscles alone. No matter your size, thanks to that and his demon nature, it's no issue for him to manhandle you as much as you're willing to let him, and he gets so hard knowing this.

I think one other major one would be primal play, tbh. Relating to the size kink and breeding kink, there's a feral side hiding deep inside him that just goes crazy at the idea of hunting you down and breeding you full when he catches you.

Ok ok I had to add this, something tells me he'd also have a lactation kink. Once again, just relating to the breeding kink, and his love for food/things he can put in his mouth lmao, if you can produce milk, he'd be relentless and always be latched on or teasing your nipples to watch the milk come out.

T for Trust (How would they implement rough sex or kinks?)

He's very hesitant and can get a little embarrassed, but he'll always bring it up directly to you in bed before doing anything with a very serious look. He's got these knee-weakening puppy eyes that he gives you when he reallllly wants something, but he's still respectful of you if you say no or are hesitant. Especially due to his size and strength, he worries about accidentally hurting you anyway, so he always wants to be extra careful. Even after giving the OK, he'll be checking in with you many times throughout to make sure you're still alright and enjoying yourself.