#removed the fuckin. text

[darklight-owl]

I think about this every day of my life btw.

[jinxviolets]

have u ever noticed how some celebrities are very clearly Celebrities™️ with how they hold themselves and how they behave in interviews and stuff and then there are others that, no matter the level of fame, are just Some Guy (/pos) in how they act

[princeyadon]

urghh i went to shoppers to get tooth pain relief and they said they don't have anything that'd help me cuz my issue is cavities

[oneiro-nautical]

.

[bukuoshin]

Typ. Ih. Cull! Classic, even.

[san8ny]

CamGirl! Ellie

“How...” You trail off as you view the poll in disbelief, setting the brightness of your monitor up in an effort to re-read the winners of your next collaboration,

Ellie Williams had won by a landslide over Abby Anderson.

How was that even fuckin’ possible, i mean, it was practically unheard of in the field of camming; a rookie like Williams beating a veteran like Anderson out.

You prop a fuzzy sock-clad foot on your desk as you lean back in your streaming chair, the viewers going absolutely insane at the chance of a collab with Ellie Williams now becoming a reality. You simply couldn’t help the amusement that began to simmer in your manner.

“Well..I did promise you all, didn’t I?” You flash a pearly smile, looking back at your camera as the thousands of comments roll in,

@Ilovesluts1: LETS GOOOOO!

@Abbys3xual: made like a bajillion accounts to vote for abby smh :/

@EWismyreligion: bro sm1 tag me when its starts next week

@AbbyAnderson: aw, dont seem so down, ill get em next time

@FuckSuckGo: ░PUSSY░IN░BIO░

Skimming through them, you slightly tilt your head at the viewer count, “Mm, we’re past our usual viewership number, are you all that excited to see me get fucked?” Your laugh coming out a bit airy as you slowly begin to unzip the large hoodie you had on, top set of teeth brushing against your bottom lip, “Now that you’ve got something fun to look forward to, let’s get back on our usual schedule.”

Meanwhile, Ellie was laying in bed, laptop propped up on her thighs as she watches your stream in antcipation on her alt. Poor girl had practically chewed her nailbeds down to nothing as she hears you talk about her for the first time in that sultry voice you had; Ellie practically worshipped the ground you walked on- hell, you were the one to even get into her camming.

She first came across your sfw gaming account, thinking you were a fresh breath of air. You had good humor, seemed down to earth and you were beautiful as hell.

Couple of weeks later, you mention in a ‘StarDew Valley’ stream how your other account got flagged for the influx of subscribers you were obtaining, the streaming platform mistaking them for bots. You were just that good, and Ellie didn’t need any further convincing before finding the paywalled account and sprinting to her coat, fishing out the credit card.

Safe to say she quickly became one of your top donators in just a couple of days, the comments talking amongst themselves of just who ‘User1009’ could be, and the hefty amount of money being sent in a single sitting; you didn’t really bat an eye all that much as you were pretty use to it, but upon reading the comments, you smiled; “Guess i’m well liked?”

shortly after, the system text-to-speech alert sounds:

@User1009 has sent a donation of 3000USD with a note attached:- More than you know :)

Ellie was ensnared in your trap. She worked a regular 9-5, she wasn’t under a hot-shot label like you when she cammed in the little to no free time she had, instead, opting to freelance with little 5 minute amateur videos.

Though, it’s her toned body and music-like moans that gets her quickly climbing in the ranks, the platform practically becoming infatuated with the quick strokes of Ellie’s wrist when she’s pumping a sleek toy inside of her, or the risk of her being caught in the very public areas she performes said acts in. She was a thrill, and had everyone tuned in.

Even you, as you probe your mouse around her offical account in your dim-lit room, trying to see just who would be bending you over.

“She’s cute..” You mutter as you click on one of the more clearer videos, heat quickly consuming you as her slicked pussy comes into camera-view, long slender olive-toned fingers pistoning in and out of her swollen cunt aggressively as she chases an orgasm, before slowly removing them and demonstrating how her cum webs inbetween digits, some cascading down her wrist before the video cuts.

And for the first time in some weeks, you catch yourself actually feeling excited as you rub your thighs together.

Not just for the clicks and money either..but for some girl on the internet.

Hey, i dont rlly know if you’d be okay with this but..r u down for a vid tgtr? my fans rlly like u but ik u dont do collabs lol (sent at 11:36pm)

[rafescvntyclubgf]

+18

𝓔𝔁 𝓑𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓝𝓗𝓛!𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝓲𝓼…

a ruthless enforcer who’s not afraid to get into a fight. Rafe’s an enigma. He only lets his guard down for a handful of people. To everyone else, he’s intimidating and cold

dressed in athleisure always, unless it is date night or game day. Cozy joggers, sweatshirts, v-neck t-shirts, and backward hats. He takes off his gold rings for games, but he never takes off his signature gold chain.

particular about his hair. He has a modern mullet with a longer fringe. He's always perfectly “undone,” removing his helmet and brushing his sweaty bangs off his pretty, chiseled face.

awful at dealing with his emotions. He has a temper—one that lands him in the penalty box often. It’s always a risk mic’ing him up because the NHL never knows what he’ll say.

an expert shit talker, chirping constantly. He loves getting in his opponent's head in any way, whether verbal or physical.

strong. Between ice time and workout, he's ridiculously cut. Thick forearms, massive biceps, deep abs and v-lines, and muscular thighs. Sometimes, he catches himself being too rough, but you swear you can take it.

so good at texting. He never fails to give you the butterflies when he’s out of town— sending you pics and texts just to let you know he's thinking about you.

a sweet talker. His favorite pet names are Baby, Princess, and Pretty; always laced in that deep southern drawl.

touchy. His hands are always on you: grabbing your hips, wrapping his big arms around you to give you a hug

posessive... He loves telling you you're his and hearing you say it.

an ace at the game. He’s known for being rough and tumble but has good hands and outstanding stats.

really, really good with his hands in more ways than one. His big hands can make you a wet mess in record time.

rich, and he loves spoiling you.

unreal in bed and his stamina is insane.

a sharp dresser. Rafe always shows up on gameday with a new designer suit. His favorite is an all-black Gucci suit.

soft around you. He's still rough around the edges, but he can't stay mad at you for anything, and you'd always get your way even on the little things, so much so that you'd tease him for it, which made him melt because “who the hell else teases him?”

always hurt. Walking around with a busted lip or a shiner.

a playboy - he was a fuckin’ dog before he met you, and those old habits were hard to break

always in his head. You're the one that got away, and he thinks about it often.

protective as hell. He checks on your socials nightly, making sure you’re okay

a jealous fuck. He’ll sabotage anyone who even looks your way without a second thought

thoughtful. He sends you your favorite flowers and that designer purse you had your eye on when you were together, waiting by his phone to see if you’ll give him anything even just a “thank you, Rafe” and he’d be more than satisfied

observant. Especially when it comes to you… He remembers everything: your coffee order, from the drinks the two of you would grab from your favorite cafe before the game. It's a little pregame ritual that he let you be a part of. He remembers your favorite songs, which is also part of his pregame routine. He loved going for a drive, listening to music, and hearing you sing along with your favorite songs, most of which he didn't know and didn't care to know; he just liked hearing your voice. He also remembers the smell of your signature perfume, the sweet elixir stamped into his memory. One of his college sweatshirts you wore the last night you were together is folded up in his drawer, and it still smells like you.

hopeful. He always sets a ticket aside for you just in case he runs into you before the game and you agree to come.

always looking around for you. At your favorite coffee shop before the game or places, he knows you’ll love, hoping to “run into you.”

reckless with his cash. Rafe went on a spending spree since cocaine wasn't an option: cars, watches, jewelry, trips, anything and everything to get his mind off you.

aggressive on the ice. Especially after your breakup, known for playing dirty. Samming bodies against the glass, throwing gloves for next to nothing, breaking sticks to get out his last bits of aggression before crashing down on the bench, burying his head in his gloves, only to go back out on the ice and crash out again.

humbled by his co-captain. He’s the only one who knows how much Rafe was affected by the breakup. He lets him know he needs to figure his shit out because it’s hurting his game and the team.

lonely. He dreads post-game losses because you were his anchor, someone who could ground him— focused more on how he was feeling versus the “game-talk” he gets from everyone else. At first, he hated it, but now he craves it, trying to remember those conversations and the sweet words you said on his drive home

really lonely… He hasn't been with anyone since and doesn't want to which is unheard of for him.

determined to win you back, which means that he’ll have to talk about all the shit he’s feeling, whichnhe knows is for the best. He’s trying to be the man that he knows you deserve.

[readwritealldayallnight]

Wish

Captain John Price x Reader

wc: 1k words

warnings/tags: fluff

To say that it had been a long day, would be putting it lightly.

He’d promised you he’d be home over 5 hours ago now. He tries not to make promises to you about that sort of thing, knowing he can’t ever truly guarantee anything in his line of work, especially not what time he’ll be home for supper. But you had pleaded with him so sweetly this time.

“It’s your birthday John,” your lips had half whined, half laughed from where they were squished between John’s loving fingers, his amused expression smiling down at you. “I’ve never had you home on your birthday. I want to celebrate you.”

He had told you he would try his absolute best to make it home for 5, 6pm at the latest, knowing you had plans of cooking him his favourite dinner, probably a cheeky sweet for desert as well. Glancing at his watch as he walks through the halls of the now desolate barracks, he sighs, seeing that it’s approaching midnight.

He hoped you’d gone to bed hours ago, and weren’t staying up waiting for him. He hadn’t even had a single second to send you a half assed text message, the prick. He hoped you would be mad at him upon his return, rather than disappointed. His heart couldn’t take seeing you sad, knowing he’d ruined the work you likely put into the evening.

He approached his office, ready to dump his gear, grab his keys and leave this base in his rear view mirror, paperwork be damned. His steps halted momentarily however, when he spotted the light emanating from beneath his door. Someone was inside.

Cautiously but confidently swinging the door open in a single movement, Price stepped inside, eyes scanning the room, letting out a breath when his eyes land on the figure sitting atop his desk.

“Love what in the bloody fuckin’- do I want to know how you managed to weasel your way in here?”

“Probably not.” You admit casually, swinging your legs over the edge of his desk, sending him a pleased smirk. Your husband plants one hand on his hip, the other running through his beard as he exhales deeply out of his nose, a deep sound of consideration rumbling from his chest. Slowly, his head begins to shake in disbelief, eyes rolling as he reaches behind him to shut the door, unable to hide his own amusement at your antics.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he begins, approaching you where you sit. “Things got away from us, but I should’ve at least called-”

You press a single finger to his lips, cutting him off as you shush him.

“You can grovel tomorrow,” you say, removing your digit from his mouth, winking at his bemused expression. “You still have a few minutes left to your birthday John Price.” You shift on the desk, one hand reach back to open his desk drawer, knowing exactly what you’re searching for. You pull out his lighter, the silver metal catching the light of the lamp as you flick it open, sparking the flame to life. You gently bring the lighter to each candle adorned atop of the small, lovingly decorated, homemade cake you’ve brought.

John rolls his eyes as he counts the candles, noticing you’ve pulled out one for each year, but the love sick grin stretched across his face gives away the love and affection he holds for you. You, who’s been sat in his office for who knows how long, waiting for your husband, all in a last ditch effort to catch even just a few minutes of this day with him. A day he considers as ordinary as any other day, apart from the voicemail his mum leaves him, because he’s never able to catch her call in time. Even after all this time together, he can’t believe you still go through all this effort to make him feel special.

With all the candles now lit, you bring the lighter to your lips, pretending to blow it out before snapping the case shut. You put the lighter back in his drawer exactly where you found, before picking up the cake with both hands, bringing it between your two bodies, where John stands in front of you, hands stroking your knees.

“Happy birthday John,” you whisper to him, eyes sparkling with the reflection of the tiny flames, in addition to the love you hold for the man before you. “Make a wish.”

John’s own eyes are shiny with emotion as both his hands come to cover yours, helping you carry the cake.

“My wish came true a while ago sweetheart.” He never looks away from your eyes as he blows out the candles, his real wish come true.

“Oh! I forgot!” You announce suddenly, shifting the cake back onto the desk next to you, reaching for something apparently hidden from view on John’s desk chair. “You have to open this too.”

“Love, you shouldn’t have gotten-”

“Ah ah ah! It’s still today, don’t ruin your birthday for me anymore than you already have.” You interrupt him, lips forming a small giggle at the end of your own joke. You shove the small, terribly wrapped gift into his grasp as he chuckles. Pretending as though it’s a chore, he half heartedly tears away the wrapping paper, revealing baseball cap with his favourite football team on it. “You said you liked Gaz’s cap a while back, and I thought maybe we could, I don’t know, diversify your hats a little bit.”

“I really like this, love. Thank you.” He tells you, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead.

“Put it on, I want to see.” You order your husband, secretly really excited to see what your man looks like in something other than his usual boonie hat. John lifts the hat from his head, running a hand through his hair quickly before donning the cap, bill facing forward.

“How’s that, then?” He asks, doing a mock spin for you in good humour.

“I like it, but maybe like this,” you say, coming up off the desk to approach him, resting one hand on his shoulder as both of his come to naturally wrap around your waist. Your other hand sneaks upwards, twisting the cap around until it’s backwards on him.

“What?” He asks seriously, seeing the way your expression falls completely, staring up at him with eyes wide, a little slack jawed, and your cheeks have gone cheery red.

“Uh,” you mutter stupidly, completely entranced by how unreasonably attractive John is in the backwards hat. “Nothing. Maybe we’ll only wear it that way at home, okay?” You mumble, twisting the cap back so it’s forward facing again, still feeling dumbly flustered by the man who sleeps next to you every night.

A knock comes from the door before it’s flung open a half second later.

“Ach, sorry to interrupt you two love birds,” A Scottish accent rings out. “But we heard there might be cake.”

[fishfooddude]

Would you still love me if I was a worm?

I put up a poll like two months ago about which WIP y'all wanted first and this was the winner by a landslide.

This may also be one of the sadder things I wrote. Part 1 MDNI 18+

Carmy Berzatto x Reader

The Bear MasterList

Directory

Carmy got home late that night, later than he’d like, especially knowing he’d only be home for a few hours before returning to The Bear. He kicked his shoes off and shed his backpack and jacket before locking his apartment door. He wandered into the kitchen to see a plate covered in plastic wrap. He looked at it for a second before removing it from the fridge to see a fluorescent sticky note with your loopy handwriting on it, ‘another attempt :)���  he chuckled and removed the plastic wrap and placed the plate in the microwave before pulling his phone out of his pocket to see you’d texted him hours ago. 

‘I found another polenta recipe online!’ 

‘Imma bring a plate over for you, baby :)’ 

‘Miss you!!’

Carmy smiled and quickly texted you back. He was surprised to hear a text notification coming from his bedroom. He put his phone on the counter before lazily pushing a hand through his hair. He walked through the living room to his bedroom. You were in his bed, asleep and drooling slightly. He chuckled and quietly approached the edge of the bed. 

He pushed a fallen lock of hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear before kissing your forehead, “Thanks for dinner, baby…” he whispered before walking back out to the living room. 

~

You stirred in bed when you felt the weight of the mattress shift. You shifted in your sleep and sighed softly, “Carmy?” you asked sleepily.  “Hi, baby,” Carmy whispered in your ear as he pulled you flush against his body, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. He kissed your shoulder, “Good day?” you asked as you brought a hand to the back of his head to lace your fingers in his unruly greasy curls. Carmy grumbled in response and kissed your neck softly, “That bad?” you giggled.

“Just missed you,” Carmy mumbled before softly biting down where he’d been previously kissed. “I just need you- all fuckin’ day.” His hips subtly pressed against your ass, causing you to gasp at the sensation softly. “I need you, baby.” Carmy whispered, “Can I have you?”

You didn’t answer the question. Instead, you wiggled in his grip, trying to rotate yourself in his arms to face him. Carmy’s grip tightened, “No, just like this baby. I want you just like this…” he cooed as his hands began exploring your body through the oversized t-shirt you’d worn to bed. You felt yourself melt against his chest as he began to manhandle your breasts over the shirt. As Carmy rolled your nipples between his index and middle fingers, a needy moan escaped your lips; you needed him as much as he needed you. 

Cooking had been Carmy’s passion for as long as he could remember. It was a way for him to express his creativity, intelligence, and love; he also despised it. Nothing was good enough. No matter how creative he tried to be or how hard he tried, it was never good enough. Taking over The Beef after Mikey passed and turning it into The Bear should have been a dream come true. The dream had turned into a nightmare, a constant stressor in his life because he wasn’t enough. Then you came into his life.

You’d sat next to him on the L one morning while he was doodling in his notebook. You didn’t want to be intrusive, but you couldn’t help but look at what he’d been drawing. When you complimented the drawing, Carmy looked up at you and felt the oxygen leave his lungs. He didn’t think that whole ‘love at first sight’ troupe had validity, but the moment his gaze met yours, he couldn’t imagine his life without you. 

Carmy’s life changed when you entered it. He’d dedicated his every waking moment to ensuring the success of The Bear. He’d given up on so many aspects of his life, but a light bulb went off that morning on the L. You’d gotten off before he could work up the courage to say anything, but he knew he had to find you again. 

Every morning, he’d board the train and scan the car for you. Weeks had gone by, and he was ready to give up on ever finding you again- then you were there. You sat there bundled up in some stylish black coat and a bright jade scarf, scrolling on your phone. Carmy swallowed his nerves and sat next to you despite the multiple free seats around the section. “Hey.” he greeted. You looked up, removing the headphones from your ears. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw your mystery man. 

You had your face pressed into Carmy’s pillows as he thrust into you at a painstakingly slow pace as his calloused fingers rubbed tight circles against your clit. “So fuckin’ wet for me, baby,” Carmy whined lowly as he pulled his hand away from your clit. He brought both of his hands to your hips and started thrusting faster. Your moans became more ragged as you arched your back, desperate to feel him hit that one spot.

“Fuck Carmy!” you whimpered as you felt yourself coming undone. He had a similar sentiment as he bent over to kiss your shoulder.

“Just like that baby… cream on my cock, baby,” he growled into your ear.

~

The following day, Carmy woke up to an empty bed with a bright pink sticky note on his bedframe. 

“You’re too cute to wake up sometimes <3 

I have meetings all day. See you soon, baby.”

You and your sticky notes. Carmy chuckled as he got out of bed and quickly prepared himself for work. It would be another long day at the restaurant, and he hoped you’d be back in his bed tonight when he got home. 

Carmy walked into the kitchen that morning to hear Richie and Syd arguing about nonsense. Ebra struggled to pile rolls by the sandwich prep station, and Marcus was tweezing tiny flowers onto some cream puff dessert he’d been working on the past few days. Carmy felt his shoulders tighten as the frustration of running a restaurant settled in. 

Something felt off as your day went on, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “Y/N. You’re goin’ to Houston.” your boss announced as he entered your office with a manilla envelope in one hand and a stupid grin on his face. You laughed and shot him a confused look, “Okay, hear me out, Y/N. You’re one of my best and brightest editors, and I know you can show these newbies how to run a tight ship.” he explained further as he stepped closer to your desk to drop the envelope on your desk. “The details are in there. The company is excited to see how much more you can grow in this position.” 

You thanked him as he walked out of your office. You leaned back in your desk chair and opened the envelope. Six weeks in Huston meant six weeks without Carmy would be hell, but looking at the itinerary your manager wrote, this would boost your career. It didn’t mean you’d have to like it, though.

~

Carmy sat on his couch that night and blankly stared at the TV. He’d put on some Danish cooking show as background noise while he waited for you to call him. He was growing impatient as the minutes ticked by; you had to be off work by now. Carmy put his head back on the couch and stared up at the off-white, almost grey stain on his ceiling. He always wondered what had happened, but the landlord claimed not to know. 

When his phone rang, Carmy jumped at the sound and grabbed his phone from the coffee table. “Hey baby.” he greeted, “Okay… didn’t expect that one Cousin.” Carmy rolled his eyes as Richie’s voice came through his phone speaker. “What do you want?” he asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “Dam. You talk to your girl like this? I don’t get how you pulled-” 

“Richie. What?” Carmy asked, cutting Richie off mid-riff. “Tyler called out- his wife is havin’ the baby. Need you to come in.” Richie hesitated to call Carmy in; he knew this was his first night off in almost a month. Carmy clicked his tongue before responding, “Okay.” he huffed and hung up his phone. He tossed it on the couch before getting up and walking toward his bedroom to quickly change into a pair of black Dickies and a white t-shirt. As he pushed his feet into a pair of sneakers, he heard his doorbell ring. “I swear to God…” he muttered as he pulled his jacket on before grabbing his backpack and leaving his room.

“Hey, ba—oh. I thought you were off tonight.” You cut yourself off when you noticed Carmy was in his work clothes. 

Carmy frowned, noticing the disappointment in your voice. “Tyler called out last minute.” he clarified as he caught your face falling further into disappointment. He was going to kill Richie when he saw him. “I’m sorry, princess.” 

You sighed, “It’s okay. I shoulda called, but I was packing.”

Your comment was met with a confused look from Carmy, “You goin’ somewhere?” he asked.

You nodded, “I’m going to Huston for like a month to help set up a new office.”

Carmy frowned at your reply; on one hand, he was proud of you for the work you’d been doing, but on the other, a month was a long time. “Oh shit.”

You laughed at his reaction, “I had the same reaction.” Carmy chuckled as he exited his apartment and threw an arm around your shoulders. 

“When do you leave?” he asked as the two of you walked down the hall toward the elevator of his building. 

“Tomorrow afternoon,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I know it’s not a lot of warning, but I guess I can walk you to your car or something as a final in-person date until I return.” 

“You better.” Carmy teased

“I’ll also FaceTime you as much as possible while I’m gone.”

“You better.” Carmy teased again, making you laugh. “I’m gonna miss you.”

~

Carmy had been grumpy since you left. While the two of you called or Facetimed at least every other night and exchanged some Spicer messages and pictures throughout the weeks, it wasn’t the same. Neither of you were sleeping well, and the frustration of seeing you but not being able to touch you was getting to him. 

And it was everybody’s problem.

“When the fuck is she comin’ back?” Richie scoffed at Natalie that night at The Bear. Carmy was getting into it with the new line cook, and Richie needed a break from him. 

“Just a couple more days.” Natalie laughed without looking up from her computer. “He’ll be back to his usual level of chaos soon enough.” 

“A couple more days? I don’t know Sugar. I might throw that kid through a damn wall. Fuck head is getting on my last goddamn nerve.” Richie huffed as he sat across from her. Natalie laughed and shot him a look that validated his growing frustration. She knew Carmy better than anyone else and understood the annoyance he’d been putting the staff through. “Kid needs to get laid…” Richie muttered before excusing himself back to the kitchen. 

~

Carmy anxiously looked around the airport that morning. A month away from each other proved more difficult than either of you had anticipated. As you rode the escalator down to the main entrance where Carmy had been waiting, you couldn’t help but smile. “Carmy!” you squealed as you ran up to him, forgetting about your suitcase at the base of the escalator. Your excitement had caught him off guard, but when he’d realized it was you calling for him, he perked up. 

“Hey,” he greeted as he pulled you into a tight hug, “Holy shit, I missed you,” he said with an exacerbated sigh. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I literally have so much to tell you about! I missed you so much, Carm!” you rattled off as you tried to drag him out of the airport. Carmy laughed and nudged his head to the bottom of the escalator where your suitcase sat. The two of you retrieved your bag and headed out of the airport toward his car. As the two of you walked through the parking lot, you rattled off about the work you’d done over the past weeks and told him about some places you’d gone to eat. Carmy smiled the entire time. None of it was new information. With the amount the two of you had been texting and calling, it was like he’d been down in Houston with you, but he listened to everything you had to say.

You led Carmy up to your apartment while you continued rattling off details of your trip. He stood back, watched you unlock the door to your place, and followed you as you walked in. He placed your suitcase by the door and watched as you went over to the neatly stacked pile of mail your mom must have brought in while she watered your plants.

“Wanna watch a movie and order food?” you asked as you put your mail back on the counter before returning your full attention to Carmy. 

He nodded and leaned against the counter, “Whatever you want, baby.”

~

Your room was filled with your whimpers and the sound of skin slapping skin. Carmy had one of your legs hiked over his shoulder as he slowly pounded his against yours. “Fuckk- right there.” you gasped as Carmy’s thumb rubbed tight circles against your clit. He grunted as he leaned in, smashing his lips against yours. You moaned into his mouth as you felt the ever-familiar knot tightening in your stomach you’d missed while you were on your trip.

Carmy let your leg fall from his shoulder and his hand to your cheek. He rested his forehead against yours as his thrusts slowed to a painstakingly slow pace. You moaned softly and tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging at the roots as his chain tickled your chin. “Carmy.” you winced.

“So fuckin’ perfect baby… fuckin’ made for me…” Carmy groaned as he relished in the feeling of your pussy gripping around him. “I love you, Y/N.” the words left Carmy’s mouth without a second thought, and when he realized what he said, it was too late. You looked at him with wide eyes and let your hands drop to his shoulders.

“W-what did you say?” 

“I love you…” Carmy softly trailed off, hoping he didn’t ruin what the two of you had built over the past eight months. 

“I-I- Fuck, I love you too, Carmy.”

~

“Can you test me again? There’s no way.” you were bewildered when your doctor read your chart. 

“We can, but blood tests are over 99% accurate,” he said as he wrote something down on your chart. You stared at him in disbelief. You couldn’t be pregnant. “With the pregnancy, I can’t give you a refill of your Paxil, but we can try a different anti-depressant. The safest option is going to be Zoloft. I can also set you up with an appointment to see Dr. Parks; she’s an OB who is taking new patients. Here is your prescription and a pamphlet that explains your options… Congratulations.” he grinned and handed you multiple pamphlets and your new prescription. 

You nodded, not knowing how to react. You’d only been back in Chicago for a couple of weeks; there was no way you’d gotten pregnant. You had a period while you were in Houston; it was light, but it was there. You quickly shoved the papers into your bag and exited the doctor's office. This couldn’t be happening right now.

You’d been avoiding Carmy for about a week when he’d come knocking on your door. Telling your boyfriend of eight months, you were pregnant… you still couldn’t wrap your head around it- how would Carmy react? You swallowed and reluctantly opened the door, crossing your arms over your stomach.

“Break your phone?” Carmy chuckled as he stood in your doorway. 

“Sorry, work has been crazy… Can you come in? We need to talk about something…” 

Carmy’s face fell at the mention of needing to talk about something; this was the moment. You were going to break up with him. Why else would you avoid his calls and say you couldn’t come over? You were going to leave him like everyone else did. Carmy nodded silently and walked into your apartment. 

“You’re breaking up with me?” Carmy asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels. You sighed and closed the door. You took a deep breath as you finally looked at Carmy. Unsure of what to say, you shook your head. “Then what is it, baby?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“What?”

“I’m pregnant, Carmy.”

“Holy shit.”

Carmy stood there in stunned silence. He brought a hand to his jaw and looked at you.

“I don’t want to keep it.”

Part 2

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 18﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader -> Overstimulation

Warnings: Overstimulation, cunnilingus, squirting, Bakugou being a soft yet commanding dom, nipple-play, fingering, breeding. Let me know if I missed anything please? Thank you!

Summary: The perfect way to unwind after work with Katsuki is to share the solace of a perfect dinner, followed by a perfect fuck fest. :3

The recent days in the Bakugou household had been weird, you were busy and so was your husband. You had recently decided to step out of being a Pro hero. It was a big decision and you were thankful that Katsuki was there, understanding your emotions, understanding what you’re going through and soothing you with it all the way.

With the judgemental hero society and the fact that you’d never be able to come home one of these days— your dream of having a family, taking care of a family & being a mother, a wife, a partner. It was all fleeting away, your determination and priorities shifting from protecting the people of Japan to now, protecting the house. Even so, you can’t help but pout when Katsuki comes home at odd hours, it’s been a week or so that you two got to spend some time together. Katsuki was yearning! So were you, for the matter.

Katsuki (2:17 pm): Hey princess

You: (3:00 pm): Oh hey there Suki

Katsuki (3:01 pm): Coming home early today, missing you too bad. Gonna prepare dinner & wait for you.

The text made you beam with joy, fuck! You missed Katsuki’s cooking & Katsuki spoiling you. All he’s done is been your sugar daddy, you wanted— needed some quality time with him.

You (3:02 pm): OH OFCCC!!!!

The rest of the day went by in a haze, Bakugou’s bulls eye was to reach home on time, to spoil his wife. “Kiri handle the patrol for me will ya?” He mumbled, finishing the paperwork & the approvals with the signatures needed for the recent Ad campaigns his PR team has bagged him for.

“Ah man, gonna spoil Y/N?” Kiri smirked, “How cute, it’s been a while since all of us hung out together you know?” Kiri emphasised, which made Katsuki irritated. He just wanted to leave his agency premises right now. “Yeh, patrol. Don’t forget.” With that, he left. Katsuki has changed being a 27 year old Pro hero who is seasoned with the elixir of how to behave and also the self awareness of how to talk. The frequent outbursts weren’t there, however— the fire in his personality still blazed threateningly.

When Bakugou reached home, he was all set to prepare things for his lady love. Stove blazing, his culinary skills all out with every intention of showing off. He ordered your favorite flowers, loads of them— enough to magically decorate the house, your favorite scented candles & by the time you reached home. (Around 8), you were greeted with a different sight altogether.

“Oh my god!” You whined, while Bakugou opened the door and kissed your forehead. “Welcome home Princess, don’t want y’ to forget how amazing I am.” He winked, laced with his sassy, adoring signature grin as he guided you towards your shared bedroom.

“Go freshen up f’ me sweetheart. I’ve kept the dress I wan’ y’ to wear & want to see you in it kay?” You nodded blindingly, too enamoured by the preparations & the efforts Katsuki has done for you.

When you returned, the dinner was set properly, there were foods intermingled from Wasabi dipped sushi, Katsudon, some sweet mochi. Everything that you liked— or might like. The dinner was sweet, Bakugou let you unwind with some expensive roseé, listening to your babbling about what happened at work intently.

Before you knew it, you were being carried princess-style to the bedroom. Both you and Katsuki a little tipsy & you absolutely drowning in the warmth of his scent, in the comfort of his arms. “Let me unwrap my little present, yeah?” Bakugou hums, smiling tenderly and softly at you as he removes your dress off, leaving you in black lacey underwear.

“God damn, Princess.” he mused, licking his lip. “You look so fuckin’ gorgeous I feel like I’d lose my fuckin’ mind.” He smirks, leaning in and taking your panties off, gawking at your soaked pussy & your throbbing clit.

“Were thinking about being loved as much as me thinking about lovin’ you?” Katsuki hummed, not waiting for an answer and leaning in against your inviting folds, a soft groan escaping his parted lips, the moment he wrapped his lips around your needy clit. Thighs spread apart, and your legs falling over his shoulders. “You sound so cute moanin’ for me like that.” Katsuki smirks, gnawing at your clit and licking it over to soothe the irritation.

You were deliciously close to the edge, mouth agape, hands pulling at his hair closer & pussy clamping all up and all for him.

“Shit- mmgh- Katsuki, gonna—”

“Cum for me Princess, let me fuckin’ taste that sloppy cunt.” Your man daunted, the reverberations in his voice pushing you off the edge immediately. “Shit- hng.” Your body spasmed around his tongue, creaming all over him, meanwhile— Katsuki didn’t want to stop. It’s been a while since he’s away from his girl, he wants you, bad.

Your pleasure laced moans turned into gasps and whines, when your overstimulated clit found itself against Katsuki’s relentless thumb, “Give me another, yeah?” he croons, however it makes you feel that you don’t have any option but to— which is exactly what Katsuki wanted.

Leaning in and licking up your juices one last time, his thick, and long fingers found their way to your pussy. “Gonna make you squirt this time.” Katsuki smirked, leaning in and kissing your pelvis as two of his fingers nestled against your folds, curling upwards & against your G-spot.

A lewd moan escapes you when your body registers the pleasure on your clit and your G-spot at the same time.

“Oh my god—” You croak, clamping once again after Katsuki found the perfect rhythm to play with your sloppy pussy. He loved watching you whine and whimper when he goes on at your cunt until you cry.

“Gonna cum again sweetheart?” Katsuki cooed, watching your face contort with pleasure & smirking along. “Yes she will, yes she will.” he hums when he finds you speechless, drowning in pleasure with no escape.

Another, harsh and unforgiving orgasm rakes through you, and as promised, your body ended up complying to Katsuki, you ended up squirting your essence all over, screaming at the shattering waves of pleasure.

“Yeah, yeah baby, just like that.” Katsuki rode out your orgasm, not stopping when he finally unzipped himself, thrusting his cock balls deep in your twitching cunt. “Argh- fuck, so snug & tight.” He lewdly comments, not giving you any time to adjust and railing onto your sweet pussy. “Going to cum for me again, mhm?” He smirked, watching you try to push him away when his thumb finds it’s way back to your clit.

“Awh, don’t be a bad girl Princess.” He chided you gently, leaning in and swallowing your nipple, suckling on it and thrusting deep inside you. Tears glossed into your eyes at the threatening pleasure intermingled deliciously with the pain of overstimulation. The pain of feeling your senses on fire.

“Shit- I- I feel like- m’ close.” You gritted your teeth when Katsuki pulled the hood of your nerves, rubbing onto your now exposed bundle & watching you whine & squirm away to no avail.

“Go on, let your pussy massage daddy’s cock until he cums.” Katsuki leaned in, kissing you passionately and eating away all your moans when you finally, tipped off the edge again. Your overworked pussy spasming around him, clamping around him until ropes of his warm seed fill you up.

“Fuck- good- fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki groaned, stilling inside you, eyes softening when his senses complain to him about how far you’re gone. “Let it go Princess, gonna take care of you now. Leave it to me, yeah? Leave it to your Katsuki.”

[yumistr]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐃.

୨୧ : 𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝓍𝓍 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 . ࣪⊹ ݁ ˖

" her whole world comes crumbling down when his friends mess around with her test , the girl returning the favor of messing up their faces as a thank you. "

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀.⠀⠀afab!reader. use of she/her pronouns. references to WHC1 kdrama. virgin!reader. violence. gore mentions. major injuries. wound aiding. crying. corruption. dry humping. exhibitionism. cunnilingus. dacryphilia. manhandling. fingering. spanking. pussy slapping. choking. begging. praise. pet names (brat, princess, good girl, pretty). marking. gagging. ⟡ : 𝘄𝗰.⠀10.2k. ⠀ 🏷️ : @screampied @dollicries @marimogf

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀𑄽𑄺ྀ

“you drive me fuckin’ crazy.”

MONDAY⠀|⠀11:35 AM

⠀

ᡴꪫ⠀"𝓢o, what’d ya get, hm?" comparing scores was always something you seemed to rather enjoy. at least with the man who was the only other student in your university that was on-par with your sheer intelligence.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his intimidating and leering glare would scare off anyone else on campus, anyone else but you. you weren’t afraid of him like the others were. sure, he was almost seven feet tall and had the figure of a professional bodybuilder, yet he was still as much of a nerd as you were. his delinquent personality and aggressive behaviors were nothing compared to his raw intellect that he tried oh so dearly to shield beneath his broad chest. it didnt take a genius to see right through his pathetic attempts at acting; that genius being you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, you knew all too well that he’d pummel your face in if you ever even dared to mention it, so your lips were sealed tighter than a noose.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"hop off, will ya? y’re such a drag, brat," the man groaned in response, pushing aside the paper you shoved into his face all the while he removed his textbook from atop his own test.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your face had never dropped faster in your life. you were in utter disbelief as your delicate fingers snatched his test up, bringing the white sheet so close to your face the words were going to jump right out at you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"a hundred and one?!?! are you kidding me?!!” scoffed and irritated, you tossed his paper back in his face, Sukuna shooting a demeaning grin at you in return.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀baffled would be an entire understatement of how you felt. and that goddamn pearly white smile he bore into your figure was not any better. he loved the attitude drop you contorted anytime you were once again let down and reminded of who the actual top student was, no matter how much you tried to overcome him. he’d always be one step ahead of you, even if you stayed up for an entire week studying as if it were a religion; he could sleep and not attend class, and would still manage to one up you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it drove you mad. he drove you mad.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"puñeta cabrón. tu puta madre, ay dío!" ( damn bastard. you mother fucker, oh my )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sukuna loved nothing more than making you mad, solely because he had a guilty pleasure for seeing how your eyes narrowed down at him. how you’d have that singular vein prodding the side of your head like a stray wire. how you’d huff at him without a single thing to respond with aside from your usually spanish curses, something he could listen to on repeat. even if the only time you ever talked to him you got annoyed, at least your attention was on him and not one of the other low life guys who were no good for you, let alone even on your skill level.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the man would never have the balls to admit it. not when your ego was already your entire personality and you knew how everyone wanted you, though your interest was more involved in the small text boxes that littered your school books.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀chuckles rumbled from the core of his chest, low eyes following your figure (your ass) as you swiftly pivoted your heels in the direction of Aoi Todo’s desk. the sight nicked Sukuna’s nerves, his jaw clenching with nothing but pure irritation whirling within his crimson eyes. exasperated scoffs we’re the only thing he could utter, lightly shaking his head and gazing out the classroom window at an attempt to calm himself down.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the already tightly-fitted fabric of his uniform only grew dense with every rigid breath he took. with how harsh he was breathing through his nose, he could start a damn fire. though, he’d never admit to being the possessive type. he could barely see how he was already obsessed with you, denying every factual thought he had about it. he was hardheaded. stubborn. irritably headstrong, of course. not over his dead body would he openly confess his dark desires.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it was absolutely no help at all that you were also a virgin. everyone knew, as weird as it sounded. well, none of them had the guts to ask you to confirm, but with how deep your nose was in a text book twenty-four-seven, it wouldn’t take much effort to come to the conclusion.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀just the thought of Sukuna’s dick being the one to pop that sweet cherry of yours, oh how he’d kill to do so. call him a pervert, he could care less, he just wanted a taste. even if it was just for a second. god, what he’d do for it. it’d definitely be a change from the women who threw themselves at him daily, the man unable to genuinely get off to their screeching sounds as he rammed them senseless.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀though, your back was turned to him as you sat diligently atop your desk with your fangirls friends surrounding you, all he could think about were his devilish desires. the ones he only had for you even though you were supposed to be his rival. arch nemesis. whatever the fuck those corny rom-com movies call two academic rivals. if he wanted, he could easily give up and let you be the top student, but that’d mean he wouldn’t be able to hear the sweet utterance of your voice every morning, or the satisfying sounds of your heels clicking down towards his desk after each test.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"hey, class prez, ya forgot this in the gym," an annoyingly high-pitched voice broke Sukuna from his dazed trance on you, cold eyes averting to the blue-haired idiot he called a friend that had approached you with your tumbler.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀a soft gasped slipped beneath your plump lips, legs uncrossing whilst you lowered yourself onto the polished floor and gently grabbing your belonging from his grasp. two arms snaked his shoulders and a sudden plush force was pressed against his own chest. to say he tensed up, he’d be lying. he froze entirely, unsure what had happened within the millisecond he took to blink.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀right before Sukuna’s eyes, you had clung yourself to Mahito, of all goddamn people. your heels were lifted from the ground as your ass could almost be visibly seen from beneath the school’s uniform skirt. oh how he’d give anything to rip Mahito from your grasp and replace it. the sight was nauseating, Mahito’s hands traveling dangerously low on your back, rimming the edges of your skirt.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Mahito could feel Sukuna burning gaze searing holes through his body, a tethering fire brewing in the pits of his stomach the longer you strayed on his body.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"heh, i-it was no problem, really." he coughed up after a tender “thank you” was brought from your mouth.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with a soft shove and maneuver, Mahito had slipped from your touch and cautiously made his way to the back of the class. if looks could kill, he’d have been buried the moment your arms even grazed his school blazer.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"hah, you’re one ballsy motherfucker," Haruta’s sly words had more than one meaning to them, and Mahito knew what he was provoking at. Shooting the idiotic blonde a narrowed gaze, Mahito smacked his hand behind his head, a ‘tch’ sound weaving its way into his threat for Haruta to shut up.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"fuck r’ya talkin’ about?" Sukuna chimed into the pairs altercation, Mahito slumping himself into his seat that was situated in the row next to Sukuna, a seat behind Haruta. Suspicions were high, and the blue-haired fucker was definitely on Sukuna’s list. he didn’t like not one thing about his attitude, or tone of voice.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"it’s nothin’, don’t worry about it. he’s just talking out of his fucking ass,” gritting his teeth through the last few words, Mahito flicked the back of Haruta’s head, the blonde yet again wincing at his self-inflicted injuries.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with one last glance at the two, Sukuna scoffed and rolled his eyes prior to reverting back at you. whatever they did, not like he cared as long as it didn’t involve you. it couldn’t be that bad anyways.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your favorite part of exam-taking was checking your answers afterwards. the satisfaction that settled within your body anytime they called out the correct choice, and you got it right, it was a sort of a euphoric endurance. you already knew that you’d get it right, you always did, but the reassurance was something you lived for.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, this time was far from being the same.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀besides the fact you could feel your eyes growing droopier and droopier the longer the exam went on, you also could barely feel your fingers as they grazed the tethered fabric of the test papers. each time you tried to wash away the suffocating apprehension with a nice sip from your tumbler, your body only felt worse, reluctantly obliging to the state it craved dearly.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀even after slapping some sense into yourself, causing nothing but a scene in the midst of a serious exam, you still couldn’t ward off the irritable feeling that flowed through your bloodstream.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"five .. three .." the answers repeated in your head like a nursery rhyme, your clouded mind trying to find out where you went wrong. how you could slip up so deliberately like a damn idiot in a circus act.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀nothing made sense. none of it. at all.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you studied relentlessly. skipped meals. drowned yourself in energy drinks. kept your bed cold and empty for days on end, just so you could retain all and every last bit of information that you needed to pass the exam. you used your best notebooks, best recommended supplies to better aid your studies. and somehow, in some godawful way, you still missed them.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your teeth ricocheted off one another, jaw clenched so tight it could slice through fine print. indents were clawing themself through the flesh of your palms, nails delving deeply into your skin that cut off all blood circulation in them.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀'cabrona.' you thought,

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀'cabrona. cabrona. cabrona.' repetition was the only thing traveling through the veins in your brain, aside from the evident self-hatred.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the sound of a fellow classmates tumbler being set on the ground brought you out of your daze, eyelashes fluttering heavily as you peered up at yours. a sort of lightbulb almost going off the moment you landed on your own. with glassy eyes and numb fingertips; your quivering hand reached for the container, in utter disbelief at what could possibly be inside.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀'no .. ellos no tendrían ..’ ( no .. they wouldn’t have .. )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀though, the sounds of minimal laughter lingering from the back of the class sent chills spiraling down your back, dispersing through your body the minute it hit your core. white walls were the only thing in mind, a ringing sensation zipping through your ears whilst the realization alas set it. boys will be boys, teachers would say.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀but, to hell with that shit.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀before you could even have a chance to decipher who did what, or what substance was exactly coursing your veins, your legs had already dragged you down the row of desks behind you. your vision was still a bit of a blur, much like it was during the exam. however, this time you knew exactly what you were doing. well, at least your body did.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it knew exactly where it was leading you to. the precise actions that were to follow, and how you’d deal with the matter at hand. even with your head in a bunch, it was clear.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the tumbler that calmly rested in your grasp skimmed the edge of your skirt as you walked, head hung low with trembling murmurs slipping past your lips. you couldn’t believe their audacity. they weren’t even your friends yet thought some mediocre prank would slide by so smoothly.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"h-heh. it was just a small amount, prez-" before Haruta even had time to give you some lousy excuse, the end of your tumbler was pummeling it’s way into his jaw; face smashing into the desk below him. the deeper you drove it into his flesh, the more crackling that followed behind. those same noises you craved to hear from his body. you wanted every last inch of him cracking under your touch.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"o-oh, shit!" Mahito was able to blurt out as the back of your opposite fist hammered straight into his nose, his chair rocking backwards before he went soaring to the ground, fumbling into the lockers that remained against the back wall.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you had no time for negotiations. you needed for them to feel how it felt to have spent so much time and effort into studying, just for a bunch of nobodies to throw it all away because they have nothing better to do with their pathetic lives. their lives may not depend on it, and they may have no future. but you sure as hell did.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀stalking towards the blue-haired freak, you watched as his body recoiled along the polished floor, rugged coughs and exaggerated groans dripping from the tip of his tongue. your own heaves were entwined into his noises, teeth senselessly hitting against one another every passing moment. he could barely kneel down and regain himself when you curled your wrist at him suddenly, the side of your tumbler snapping his head as it slammed into his cheek. yet, he still had no time to react as his head fell straight into the open grasp of your free hand, grabbing the roots of his hair with a life-threatening grip.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀reeling your arm back and officially dropping your bottle to the ground, your hand held onto the top of the lockers, thumb curling the edge to get a solid hold. you sent the man’s face right into the metal containers, repeatedly reeling him away and slamming him right back in.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀over, and over again. one after another, his face continued to scrape the material, sense of awareness getting lost in the overbearing ringing noise that clogged his eardrums. after the fifth hit, he could no longer keep track of how many times you slammed his face into the locker door.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the blood that now drenched his uniform would surely be the least of his problems with how many gashes and broken bones littered his facial structure. trickles of the crimson liquid trailed down his flesh, some seeping into the depths of his other open wounds while others dropped onto the roughened fabric of his uniform pants.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you would’ve done more. you wanted to do more. but fate had other plans when a pair of large arms wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground you once stood proudly on. flailing in the air, you were able to shake them off for merely a second, swiping your foot along the floor before it made contact with Mahito’s face, getting that last hit in just as you were tossed over someone’s shoulders and lifted highly off the ground.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀being face to face with their backside, you hadn’t a clue who it was or where you were going, just that you wanted to kick their ass just as much for interrupting your much needed plans. your arms were stuck to your sides with theirs curled over your lower back, rendering you unable to move whatsoever. you could barely move your legs with how much blood flow traveled to your head, let alone the drugs that were already seeping into every inch of your being.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀once they’d made it into the nurses office who was seemingly on her hour lunch break, the door slammed behind the two of you whilst they alas set you down. though, their large rough hands never left your figure as you continued to struggle out of their grasp.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"k-kill him .. i’m gonna .. i’m .. f-fucking — i’m .. kill .. kill-"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"L/N Y/N." harsh and abrupt, the man that stood before you pulled you from your senselessness. Sukuna shaking you a bit to get you off whatever mindless train you were riding. if he was being honest, you definitely startled him. it may have been just a slither, but it was surely turning some gears in his head.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"tch, jesus christ you crazy brat, what the hell?!" he exasperated, finally letting you go.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your eyes wandered the room, encapsulating the area that surrounded you all the while you tried to configure yourself. gashes and blood splatters likewise tattered your hands, your mind far too lost in the adrenaline to realize you also fucked yourself up in the midst of beating them.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"i just- i- i- they- i ju-" "open." he demanded in a monotone voice, calloused hand already grasping the back of your neck as he brought a water bottle to your mouth. before you could even protest, he was already pressing the edge of it into your lips with the liquids traveling down your throat against your will. not that it wasn’t for the greater good, just that it caught you off guard by a long shot.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he watched tediously as a vague yelp muffled beneath your lips, trembling hands pathetically attempting to push him away before you had any idea of what he was doing. though, you stopped the minute it processed.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"y’re fuckin’ psychotic, y’know that?" he scoffed, draining out the water into your mouth before he let you go. all you could do was obediently swallow, coughs scratching at your once dry throat with your body tumbled over and a hand resting along the wall beside you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"ow, fuck!" you hissed in irritation, covering the wounds on your hands as the high you once rode on finally settled down, causing all injuries to hit you like a damn truck. you couldn’t even feel how deep the gashes were prior, but as the tingling sensations set in, that’s all you felt.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀turning to you, Sukuna sighed at your idiocy despite being the top student in their school. he reached for your forearm, disregarding all cries and pleas you threw at him before sitting you atop the nurses bed. you didn’t want him touching your wounds, let alone fixing them with how much they hurt.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"don’t start cryin’ alright? i don’t need to hear that shit," Sukuna groaned, bringing over a first aid kit from one of the tables. you attempted to protest his care, not wanting to feel alcohol being poured onto your fresh wounds, but he could care less. he didn’t need to see you struggling for the next few days just because you were too much of a pussy to clean them right away.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, what he was not expecting and entirely unready for, was for your pleas to sound like moans. his entire body tensed the minute your gentle hand pressed against his large bicep, whimpers tumbling from your lips. all he did was rub his thumb over the open gashes so he could measure the gauze, and your minuscule sounds had his heart dropping to his stomach.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"S-Suku — fuck, wait," you protested, the mere graze of his thumb already sending needles to shoot all through your arm.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he tried his best to ignore it. to push away any and all vile thoughts that dared to resurface his mind now that he finally knew what you could possibly sound in bed. he didn’t want to think of such things at the moment. for crying out loud, he was staring at blood and bones.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀for the next few minutes as he tended to your wounds, all he could do was tune you out. he wasn’t surprised that you didn’t know the difference between whining and moaning, you’ve probably never even had to moan before.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your cheeks were scooped into his rough grasp before you knew it, his face barely centimeters from yours as his harsh and ragged breathing fanned your nose. the close proximity was eating him alive, your widened doe-eyes meeting his leering gaze that was fixated on nothing but you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"stop .. stop making those damn sounds," he demanded more like a plea, unable to bring himself to genuinely be mean to you, but also desperate for you to stop before it sent him into utter madness.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you obliged with a small nod, swallowing the lump in your throat while he returned back to covering your hand in medical wraps. this time, you just softly hummed to yourself, trying to maintain your noises that you guessed were too annoying for him that he wanted you to shut up. and the last thing you wanted to do was annoy the man who quite literally had your arm in a chokehold just so you wouldn’t pull away.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀yet, on the last tug he gave your wrapped hand, a tender sound escaped your trembling lips that had Sukuna’s teeth grinding together. he could feel his core brewing a small fire, heat trailing it’s way up his throat by the second. he had a fucking boner.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"fucking hell .." he muttered through clenched teeth, pushing your hand aside and locking himself in the bathroom across the room.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you had no time to apologize, or even stop him before the door slammed in your face, your words getting caught in your throat. the guilt slowly ate away at you whilst you stood opposite to the bathroom door, attempting to muster up some form of apology to Sukuna who was evidently pissed off at you for not listening to a simple fucking task.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Su — Sukuna, i’m really sorry for annoying you. i didn’t mean to. i just — i don’t have the best pain tolerance and,—" oh how you were so painfully, pathetically fucking oblivious.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were far off from annoying him. you turned him on for christ sake. his pants grew tight around the growing erection he had, trying so desperately to think of anything else but you just so it’d go away. even thinking about all the other girls who thought they were suitable to ever be his girlfriend, he just needed something that wasn’t your voice booming in his head.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀yet, the more you talked, the worse it got.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀there was no way that he’d be able to get rid of it with you being right outside that door. the same door you were trying to speak through to apologize for something you didn’t even do.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and, somehow, in some deranged and crazy fast way, you ended up in the bathroom with him, being pressed firmly against the door. you had absolutely no time to think whilst his arm snaked through the small opening he made and swiftly dragged you in, a tiny yelp hiccuping from your throat.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the tension that settled was intoxicating. almost clear to the human eye. his head was lowered in the crevice of your neck with his hands sternly planted on the door along either side of your head. his coarse breaths danced along the flesh of your neck, goosebumps decorating your skin as you attempted to grasp what had happened. you had no idea what was going on, let alone what was pulsating between his legs. your cluelessness would indefinitely be the death of Sukuna, a crumpled sigh falling off his tongue.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Suku-"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"can i kiss you?" four simple words. four simple fucking words, they were the same ones you would’ve never guessed your literal rival would utter in your presence, let alone to you. was he out of his mind? what he going through a mental episode? maybe he also took a sip from your tumbler and was riding some sort of high as well. there’s no possible way he was serious.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and yet, you still said yes. somehow, your brain that only ever saw him as the guy you wanted to beat. the guy who you would do anything just to have the hierarchy and be able to say you beat him in something. anything. you still found yourself crumbling beneath him much like you always did. falling victim to him once more, however this time it was your own fault. you obediently said yes without a second thought. without thinking how it’d look if the girl who only ever raved about beating the infamous Sukuna Itadori, succumbed to his berating charm and was another one of his girls of the week.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were utterly disgusted with yourself. but oh how sweet he tasted. his plump lips were immediately attached to your own with his large hands savagely coating your biceps, your hands rendering against his solid chest that rose with each passionate movement he made along your mouth.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were tall for a woman, standing perfectly at 5’7. though, compared to Sukuna’s 6’7, you were merely a mouse to a lion. his ginormous figure towered over you in every aspect, broad chest cornering you against the door with his head trapping you beneath him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he tasted like sweet cinnamon bark chipping onto lavender flowers, each petal melting against your tastebuds every time his tongue skimmed the tissue of yours. it was eradicating. every sense you thought you once had was entirely overwhelmed by him and his aroma, suffocating the oxygen you desperately craved for in between sloppy kisses.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀how could you let your first kiss be stripped from you by the man you swore you hated. the man that took every chance he got at provoking and taunting you with his intelligence. who got off to seeing your anger rise each time you glanced at his scored test papers. unbeknownst to the fact he only ever did such things so you’d look at him, let alone acknowledge his presence.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀despite wanting to push him off you and yell at him for thinking he could toy with you like some whore on the street, all you could really do was pathetically melt under his deathly grip. your lips subconsciously synced with his all the while you miserably pawed at his chest, slender digits attempting to undo the buttons that barricaded his immense chest.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"impatient, r’ya, princess?" you mewled at how easily the nickname slipped from his tongue, as if he weren’t just calling you a brat for god knows how long.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his words murmured against your lips, deep-husked voice littering your once smooth skin in nothing but even more goosebumps. the assertion gave you room to breathe alas, whimpered heaves exasperating from your quivering-swollen lips. he watched in utter delight at how heated he could feel you were, how your chest rose just as much as his did with your glossy eyes barely being able to make contact with his hunger-filled ones.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were twenty-one for crying out loud, and this is how you reacted to your first kiss? oh, was he ecstatic to see just how much you were going to crumble on his dick.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"fuckk .." he groaned out heavily at the sight that displayed before him, aggressive hands reaching for your buttoned-uniform shirt and ripping it apart, practically tearing the seams that sealed your body away from his demeaning gaze. the action broke you from your train of thought, eyes shooting up at his with your hands failing to cover the sweet treats you hid from everyone with that embarrassingly tight uniform top.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"tch, don’t hide from me, brat." he scoffed out, grabbing your gentle wrists and using one hand to pin them above your head, back straightening from the unexpected position he forced upon you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you didn’t have the guts to face him, not when you were completely vulnerable in front of him. your breasts that fought at the seams of your pink laced bra was the first thing that his eyes wandered to, seeing exactly how large they were and how small that damn coverage was. how could you possibly be so stupid to buy a size smaller than what you were?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀snapping your head to the side, you closed your eyes with trembling breaths dripping from your sore lips. anyone could see just how much lust fueled Sukuna’s crimson gaze as he admired you. saliva pooled his sealed mouth, tongue dragging across the skim of his lips with his teeth chewing the inside of his gums. he just wanted to ravage every inch of your body, tainting your beautiful skin in his bite marks so everyone and their fucking mother that attended this godforsaken campus would know who exactly took you first. who adulterated your gorgeous figure and molded that soaking cunt to shape his dick, and his alone.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"can .. can i touch you?" a small head nod followed swiftly after, not a single thought behind your actions, just pure, raw ardor.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his movements were tender and sweet, at first. but once his large palm grasped the entirety of one of your breasts, he kneaded it with nothing but genuine hunger. his lips attacked yours once more, synchronizing his actions as you puttered soft moans into his mouth, the man swallowing them each time his tongue explored your walls.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the way his thick digits seeped into the flesh of your breast was unlike anything you’ve ever been able to fondle on yourself. he was skilled, obviously; his hand gripping you with the perfect amount of aggression that had you squirming under his touch. it only got worse when his fingertips trapped your nipple between his pads, rolling the two over one another to create the perfect amount of friction that he needed from you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"p—please .. oh-shit, please .. just fuck me, Suku—" the way your beautifully doe-glossed eyes peered up at him had the man ready to risk everything. ready to bend you over that damn sink and fuck the daylights out of you, so the only sensible, coherent thing you’d be able to utter was “fuck me, Sukuna”.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"be a good girl and be patient, i wanna explore every crevice of this fucking body of yours," he hushed you up with ease, showering you in kitten kisses that trailed all the way down your neck, his lips latching onto your skin once he made contact with your throat.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with your bra now tossed onto the floor, chest entirely exposed for Sukuna’s deranged eyes, his calloused hand traveled down your body. over the ridges of your waist line and through the folds of your skirt. the lower he went, the higher your breath hitched in the depths of your throat, shaky heaves fanning his ear. he gently shushed you, his fingers now dancing along the fiery skin of your thigh. you knew you were soaked down there. he knew you were soaked down there. just from how tediously your legs trembled the moment he touched them, it was as clear as day. you weren’t hiding it, especially when you tried clamping your thighs closed the moment his nails even grazed your flesh.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"don’t hide, princess. s’okay, i promise to be gentle," he cooed in your ear, hissing at his finger looping around the drenched fabric of your underwear. the textured surface drove him crazy, how you were already sopping with him merely just touching you. it was pathetic, but god how he loved it so much.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he loved how it was him that caused such a reaction from you. how just the thought of him, and his touch against your perfect skin had you already creaming your underwear. it’s exactly what he wanted. for you to only give such a reaction created by him and no one else. just thinking about some other loser being in his place enraged him to the fullest. he couldn’t imagine anyone else taking your firsts, let alone stuffing your tight hole with their dick that probably wasn’t even close to being the same size as his.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the moment his fingers slipped between your folds, you were an entire mess all over again. whimpering moans and squeamish behaviors were the only reaction you could give, Sukuna peering down at you and enjoying every second of it. he teased and taunted your clit with each glide he passed through your slit, his nose grazing your own as tears now coaxed your entire face. the sight had his back muscles tensing, dick throbbing in his pants as he toyed with you more. if this is how you reacted to simply being touched, oh he really couldn’t wait.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it took every fiber of his being to restrain himself against you, knowing that you’ve never had sex, let alone been played with so he couldn’t do anything without hurting you in the process. and, that’s the exact opposite of what his intentions were. he wanted you creaming on his dick, not screaming.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀sputtered cries and grasps at nothing but air were sent Sukuna’s way the second he slipped his fingers in your clenched cunt. fuck, just his two digits alone, you were squeezing the life out of them.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"shh shh, jus’ relax. y’re too tense, gonna hurt yourself clenching so hard" he soothed, littering your neck in even more tender-lined pecks as his grip on your wrists above your head only tightened. all the while you listen so obediently, Sukuna continued to gradually push his fingers inside you. you tried your best to relax, as he said, not wanting it to hurt when all he was trying to do was please you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀yet, even when relaxed, you were still so fucking tight it turned his mind completely white.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"juss’ like that. good girl," he fanned against your ear, kissing beneath it right as he slowly began to thrust his fingers in and out. gasped moans traveled out of your mouth every time his digits scraped your walls so delicately, hips subconsciously bucking in the midst of him trying to get you used to having something shoved up there.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were already a babbled disaster beneath him, legs trembling dearly as Sukuna contained every urge had had to quicken his pace. he knew you weren’t ready, but you just kept on. you continuously bucked your hips against his hand, as if you wanted him to go faster, to roughen the tender pace he had on you. he wanted to go gentle, something he wasn’t entirely fond of, though he knew you were inexperienced and didn’t want to scare or even hurt you from how he could get.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀but you had other plans in mind. because the best thing that the man was even able to coherently understand amidst all the blabbering nothings you muttered was a vague “h-harder”. he knew you were crazy, just from the events that led to this, it was obvious. but he was not expecting you to be this batshit insane.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Suku— fuckk .. please, please .. fuck me—"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"shit .. you fuckin’ psycho brat," grumbling beneath his breath, the man listened to your deranged nonsense, quickening his once delicate pace.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with his lips latched onto your own, he muffled all and every moan you had to offer once his pace roughened. squelches and wet noises could be heard all throughout the bathroom as he abused your desperate cunt, legs growing numb as the sudden action. the only way you were able to even stand up still was from his hand that pressed your wrists onto the door. you were rendered utterly silent, eyes rolling so far back you caught a glimpse of the pearly gates.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the back of your head slumped against the door, much like your melted figure that seeped into Sukuna’s grasp. his fingers grew used to the feeling of your gummy walls suffocating them the more he pumped your cunt, your first orgasm coating the entirety of his hand already. it was small so it didn’t hit you as hard, but the fact that he continued to thrust his fingers through your climax is what sent you into madness. you were slowly losing yourself the more he led you into your second orgasm. something you’ve never done before.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀because yeah, any normal girl would touch herself and make herself cum, but it was rare that they continued after the first orgasm. and, you happened to be one of the few who could never lead yourself to a second, always far too sensitive after the first.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀cries squealed through your once sealed lips, his persistence to make you cum as much as possible causing you to break your silence. however, even with your poetic noises clogging his senses, his pace never once faltered. rather, it increased and was already leading you to your second orgasm, legs now visibly twitching and unable to hold your body up anymore.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀right before you could officially release onto his hand once more, he dropped everything and lowered himself to his knees, catching your juiced on his tongue that slipped easily through your folds. his lips hooked onto your clit the moment he did so, arms curling over your thighs so you sat along his shoulders. within a blink of an eye you were spilling all over his tongue with your pleading hands kneading at his pink hair, cries of mercy tumbling from your lips all the while. though, even then, your actions were rendered useless as he proceeded to use his mouth to edge a third orgasm from your beaten body.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"S—Suku .. please! I-I can’t, I can’t .. wait, wait-" you sobbed through heavy tears, the man far too lost in the goal of making you cum to even begin to listen to your wails.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he had nothing to say in response, using his mouth to get his point across that he didn’t care. that he was going to make you coat every aspect of him in your juices. you couldn’t help but think if this is how he was with all the other women he hooked up with daily. if he was so stubborn to make them cum as much as he was you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and, to proudly answer that, he’d honestly admit that no, he most definitely did not. he could barely tolerate their voices, let alone the taste of them. he simply fucked them, nothing more nothing less. that’s all they wanted him for anyways, so why would he waste his time doing more for people he could care less about?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀but you? oh, you were an entirely different case.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with you, he wanted all of it. he wanted to feel just how tight you were. just how sweet you tasted. to caress every inch of your ass, and body. to milk you dry, even. he wanted to devour you and leave you so high off his touch that even when alone in your dorm you’d probably touch yourself simply thinking about this interaction you had with him. he wanted to leave you craving for him as much as he craved for you. to have you feeling just how much of a mess you made him without even trying.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his tongue did wonders against your aching hole, lapping your juices against his tastebuds before soaking up every last droplet that tainted your inner thighs. taking advantage of his position, the man made sure to leave his teeth marks engraved into your skin, his palms firmly pressing against your lower abdomen to stop you from squirming so much. he did love how his actions earned such a reaction, but he didn’t want you hurting yourself from too much carelessness. at least not anymore than you already have.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀sobs and disheveled breaths hiccuped from your throat, hazed eyes slowly losing yourself to all the intensity that was thrown at you in less than ten minutes. you didn’t know how much longer you could go, but you definitely didn’t want him stopping anytime soon. it all felt so fucking good, it left your mind unable to do anything but cloud with nothingness.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the tingling commotion that left your legs completely numb had traveled it’s way up to your arms, fingers barely able to rake through his curls without twitching every few seconds. your words had become entirely slurred, vaguely incoherent with each word you puttered through your heavy lips.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sukuna was enthralled by every passing second he spent between your legs, marking his territory almost with how he repeatedly stabbed your flesh with his sharp teeth. you had no recollection or feeling in your legs to be able to stop him, allowing the man to claim you as his own as if he wasn’t just blabbering on about how annoying you were the day prior. the duality would not only just kill a victorian child, but also slaughter an entire bloodline.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"shit, y’taste so fuckin’ good," he groaned into your core, the deep rumbles that bore from his chest vibrating against your bundle of nerves and earning yet another sweet sweet moan from you. the kind he longed for. yearned, even.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he slurped up your slick liquids as if he’d been deprived of food for months, maybe even years. which, to some extent, he has. he’s been lusting over you since your freshman year. not a day had gone by where he wasn’t thinking about you, every inch of your body, and your beauty.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀in such little time, you had become his primary thought bubble. he hadn’t a clue how it happened, nor why. but, now that he alas was shoved between your legs and able to taste just how savory you were, he definitely wasn’t complaining.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sukuna egged on your third orgasm, not letting a single drop leave his mouth as he sucked and tethered at your clit. it surely was a struggle to contain your trembling legs, the man resorting to standing back up and placing both of his coarse hands along your ass. the sudden action caught you off guard completely, body almost slipping to the floor if he didn’t hoist your aching legs around his torso. though, his movement forced an abrupt sob to drip out of you, his rock hard erection pressing firmly along your cunt.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"o-oh, fuckk .." was blurted from his own mouth at the endurance, not realizing his own actions until your juices were coating the fabric directly over his dick. his hands remain gripping the soft flush of your ass, fingers delving in the longer he held you there.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were sure to cream on the spot from how much force was pushed onto you, your back practically molding into the wooden door behind you. Sukuna couldn’t think properly, not in this state at least. all his mind could focus on was how he felt your heartbeat through your cunt that was resting diligently atop his pulsing erection. it was so prominent, so distinct, as if your heart was right there. he couldn’t move, not when his throbbing tip was already leaking with precum. he needed you and he needed you now.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Sukuna—"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"please .. just—just one .. one second, fuck" he groaned against the flesh of your ear, your arms gripping the seams of his collar as he pushed his head in the crevice of your neck.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he wanted to just take a breather before he did anything rash, but his body evidently had other things in mind.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his hips grinded against yours without warning for either of you. hoarse mewls stammered from each of your mouths due to the friction of the rough material rubbing your sensitive areas just right. it felt wrong. you felt dirty. like you weren’t supposed to be doing such vile things along the fabric of your school attire, but it just felt so fucking good, you couldn’t possibly stop now.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and you didn’t.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sukuna continued to curl his hips at yours, loving how his trousers tightened around his dick just enough for it to feel like he was inside of you. and you, you embraced it just as much. you wanted him inside you so bad. even if he was probably far to big to be your first. you didn’t give a fuck. you wanted him and if he was allowed to taste you and edge you to three fucking orgasms, then he would have no choice but to fuck you by the end of this.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his nails created indents in your ass from how harsh he gripped your body, his palms practically the size of each cheek he caressed dearly. though, you didn’t care, he’d already tainted the rest of your body so your ass was no difference. not like anyone would see it anyways, no one but him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀despite not having a single ounce of strength left in you, you were able to use a slither of it to pull his face to yours, trapping his lips and syncing your sloppy kisses to his thrusts. once Sukuna caught onto your naughty actions, he quickened his pace, knowing that if he went faster than he’d be able to hear your beautiful noises once again.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and, that’s exactly what happened. you were halted mid-kiss by an unexpected whimper that ricocheted your throat. it was filled with nothing more than genuine cries, head tossing back against the door whilst your lustrous eyes lazily gazed up at the ceiling above. the once harsh grip you had along his collar had faltered almost immediately. it was humorous to Sukuna how easily you succumbed to his touch against every part of your body. he fucking loved it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your legs had alas uncrossed from around his waist, the only thing holding you now being his black painted nails that molded your ass to his hand sizes. with each curl against your freshly exposed cunt, Sukuna hissed in delight all the while you choked up broken moans. the synchronization was soothing, chills creeping up his spine from how brisk you felt.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀before he could get carried away, the man allowed you to release yet another orgasm on him, massaging your thighs through your high. he could tell how worn out you were, it was written all over your damn face. you were a virgin and already on your fourth orgasm during your first sexual interaction.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"p—please .. Suku- please .. just fuck me already," heaved through chopped, aching breaths, you raked your nails down his severely toned abs that could probably crush a watermelon.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀that was his cue. the simple words that he was almost begging you to utter once more just so he’d be able to finally follow through with your repeated pleas.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀hoisting your legs around his waist once more, he led you out of the bathroom finally, after thirty damn minutes. one hand remained in the dip of your lower back whilst his other was scooped beneath your ass, being slowly coating in your slick liquids that dripped from your exposed pussy. though, he surely didn’t mind. he transferred your quivering body back onto the nurses bed he once used to tend your injuries, continuing to knead your tensed thighs so they’d simmer down.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"ya sure ‘bout this, pretty? i don’t wanna hurt you," he reassured for the last time, pad of hjs thumb swiping your fleshed cheek that was hotter than the sun on a mid-summer day. all you did was gaze up at him through the thick of your lashes, doe eyes enticing his entire existence.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you didn’t care how he did it, you just wanted his dick stuffing you so good that you’d forget every test answer you ever embedded into your thick skull. as crazy as it sounded. you probably seemed so pathetic for thinking such a thing, but when a woman has gone twenty-one years without ever being touched so sensually, and she finally gets a taste of it crashed into her like a semi-truck, of course she’s going to sound deranged.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you didn’t even answer him, your hands immediately latching to his pants as you began unbuckling his belt. you fumbled with it a bit, Sukuna allowing a low, deviated chuckle to rumble along his chest whilst he moved your hands aside to do it himself. your eagerness was humorous, the man getting a kick out of it as he stripped his lower body to nothing but raw nudity. his pants pooled at the rim of his ankles, black boxers laying softly atop them. to say you were stun-ridden would indefinitely be a damn understatement as you tried to fully grasp his size.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀sure, you’ve seen some poorly executed porno’s with guys who had long dicks. some even had thicker ones that weren’t as long, but their girth and how they stretched the girl out made up for it inevitably.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, never once have you seen one that was not only long, but also broad. his tip alone rendered you into utter silence, the white ropes of precum decorating his reddened head. though, what had chills dancing along your spine was the sight of how he extended to his belly button, and his base only got thicker the lower down your eyes traveled. arrogant and humored, the man taunted you with a snarky expression;

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"careful now, y’might catch flies, princess," his thumb gliding across the skim of your bottom lip after he layered it in his seed. he gently slipped it through your agaped mouth, softly closing your lips around his knuckle with his opposite hand slowly pushing you against the flat of the bed.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you couldn’t even process the fact that he made you taste his cum from how awe-struck his size left you. let alone him spreading your legs open and watching as your lower abdomen trembled in between each shaky breathe. what did break you from your daze was when a slap was sent to your wide-open cunt that was on full display for him, your back arching off the bed with tethered cries mewling out all the while.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you couldn’t even close you legs to stop him, his stern grip pinning one of them to the bed with his waist stopping your other from moving. all you could do was try and reach your hands to cover yourself, but he took that as an initiative to grip your wrists with both of his overly large hands. gazing down at your sweets, he aligned his base with your clit, his dick laying atop your stomach so he could measure just how deep he’d be hitting you. now you were completely rendered defenseless, his grasp on your wrists never once faltering.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀once he was satisfied with the results, he tossed one of your wrists into his opposite hand while adjusting his tip between your deathly sopping folds. oh how he wanted to bottom out in you at this very instant, the urge eating away every second that painfully passed by. he couldn’t. not yet, at least. you weren’t ready and he didn’t want to ruin anything after spending all that time getting you ready.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀after grabbing your wrist again, he, very slowly and tediously gently, started sinking himself through your walls. each time you made any sort of high pitched noise he stopped, trailing circles with his thumbs against your abdomen; feeling just how much your body quivered. your mind drew blanks, vision going in and out from how much he stretched you out with his tip alone. it was euphoric, ecstatic even. you’ve never (willingly) taken drugs, but this is how you imagined the feeling people described when they were riding cloud nine.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your unhinged jaw hung open desperately, toes curling with each vein he gradually dragged so rigidly along your delicious gummy walls. you had no ounce of energy to cry out. whimper, let alone moan. all you could do was let him continue to shape your cunt, to mold you into the perfect cocksleeve for him and him alone. it was something you were never expecting, but surely weren’t protesting now that he wore your body out so deliberately.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he was trying his best to be as cautious as he could, fighting every senseless urge that pulled at his strings the deeper he sunk into you. it was so fucking tiring, especially when your desperate cunt kept sucking him in deeper each passing moment.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀yet, when it was all said and done, and his tip was practically kissing your womb, his shoulders alas settled with a groaned sigh following close behind. now that he finally got what he wanted, what he’d been impatiently waiting for since your first year, he hadn’t a clue what to do. he was so used to the women taking over and fucking themselves on him, already used to his size and using it how they saw fit. he never in his wildest dreams would’ve thought he’d finally be able to get at you, let alone be so painfully deep inside you that it rendered him, the great Sukuna Itadori, silent.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀if there were a day for miracles, it’d surely be today.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"holy- .. shit. fuckin’ hell, Y/N .." how he uttered your name in that oh so needy tone drove you crazy, clenching around him and causing Sukuna to immediately tighten his grasp on your wrists.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀all he raved about was how you sounded, but jesus fucking christ did he sound so goddamn sexy saying yours in that teasingly needy voice that he tried so hard to make scornful. his girth pulsed in the depths of your cunt, his rugged and torn heaves being forced through his nostrils whilst he attempted to collect his jumbled thoughts.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he led your wrists back up to your head, his earth shattering grip still cutting all blood circulation from them. sturdily planting the back of your hands to the mattress below, along either side of your head, Sukuna brought his own to the slithered opening of your neck, fanning his fragile breaths against your goosebump-covered neck.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀slow and steady, agonizingly cautious, the man began rocking his hips into your own. each stroke, every whimpered moan, all of it had Sukuna’s mind seeing stars. the moon. possibly the entire fucking galaxy with how completely undone he became. his head continued to knead into your shoulder, puttered lips whispered sweet nothings against your tattered skin that he decorated so rigidly. it hurt, your entire body could feel that fact all too well. you knew it’d hurt, just weren’t expecting how much though. with how your friends described their first times, you were expecting a paper cut, not to be ran over three times. your core was burning implacably, inner thighs so ungodly sore that you weren’t sure how you’d have the energy to walk once he was done with you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, with each tender word he cooed in your ear, you slowly melted beneath his touch, seeping into the mattress and feeling every last vein that scraped your walls so vigorously. you could barely open your eyes for that matter, gaze entirely fixated on the ceiling lights that hung above, thick lashes coating your droused vision.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the pain that once surged your every thought had simmered into nothing but euphoric rapture, tears glossing your [E/C] eyes so tenderly. your hands were grasping at straws, unable to get a hold on anything, let alone move with how Sukuna buried them into the surface.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀slow sex was definitely not on Sukuna’s bucket list for the year, let alone sex with you. and he was unsure how to feel about it. because yes, it had the pleasure dispersing to every inch of his sole being, but it also fueled his desire to ultimately ram your cunt broken. the endurance only caused his back muscles to tear at the seams of his uniform, solid chest pressing into your own as he suppressed any vulgar thoughts.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it were as if the gods above had heard his yearning, his unspoken pleas that lingered his mind. because the next coherent word he could make out from your lips was a small “faster .. please-" that sputtered out.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it was at lightning speed that he swiftly hovered himself above, capturing the perfect display of your sprawled upper body beneath him. his hands pawed at your biceps and curled around them with a hefty grip. he wanted to steady himself before he hurt you in any possible way, already a bit uneased by his careless decision of going in raw.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you had no time to react, no time to possibly even grasp the fact that he had released your wrists from his death grip. not before he was plunging his swollen tip at the entrance of your womb, repeatedly with harsh grunts weaved into each movement. that’s when you saw stars. that was when you could no longer speak properly, let alone even think about anything other than listening to the sounds of your own pussy squelching and squeaking every time he bottomed out and his balls slapped against your ass. your mouth moved in an attempt to speak, but no words, let alone noises, were to be heard. you were like a broken wind up toy; moving without sound.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"fuck .. y’re so goddamn tight, pretty," Sukuna groaned out desperately, a scoff finding its way into his words that overlapped the boisterous noises your cunt shouted out.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your hazed eyes were now drenched in tears, hiccups slipping past your lips after each thrust he shoved down your walls. your skirt rode up your ass, exposing it to the sticky material you laid upon. both of your bodies were covered in sweat from head to toe, though the adrenaline had you thinking you were as dry as a baby. it was a crazed mixture of feelings, yet they all had you more deluded than a fangirl.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀no matter how much you relaxed, how many times you soothed your walls, you still clenched him so perfectly he swore he was going to cum already. which, he definitely was. his entire focus was fixated on trying not to decorate your walls. not yet, at least. he wanted to cum with you on your fifth high, his quick pace easily leading you to it thoroughly.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the silence that once washed over your entire body had been forcefully broken when he decided curled his hips at just that right angle that hit a spot so deep, so so fucking sweet, it had you crying out for him to continue. your nails grazed at the skin of his wrists, moans proclaiming his aggressive moves. mewled cries exerting your quavering lips, encouraging his robust actions that only increased with every whimper you threw at him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀each time Sukuna slid himself through your aching cervix, he watched his bulge poke through your abdomen, pleased with the fact that no one else could do such things to you but him. that even if such an interaction with him were to awaken a side of you, and you ended up with another guy, he’d never be able to leave his dick print on you like Sukuna did. he was comfortable in his size, much of an arrogant high school cheerleader.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the man obliged by every last plea you threw at him, subconsciously leading both of you to your destined climaxes. he wanted to hit his high with you, and if he continued his actions thoroughly, he’d get what he craved so desperately for.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"S—Suku, fuckk— i-i’m gonna come .. please!"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you had no idea how much of an impact you had on the disheveled man. he never planned on being such a known fuckboy on campus, but when you were too painfully fucking clueless to his advances when school first started, he accepted his fate and used his body to drown himself in the sorrows. he didn’t know how your relationship would be after today, but what he did know was that it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last time he was balls deep in your throbbing pussy.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"s-shit .. ya takin’ me so well, princess," he yearned, gruffs tumbling out after his breathless assertion.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"this is mine, ya understand? .. don’ wanna see no other guy near you. not even my. shitty. little. brother," with each exasperated word he huffed out, he made sure to hit you so hard, so fucking deep, that you understood every damn syllable of his demand.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Y-Yes, yes! please, .. oh— fuck! yes, o-ok. ok!" sobs and down right hysteria blurted from your crumbling lips, cunt aching pathetically as he abused ever last inch of it. Sukuna made sure he molded you like the perfect little sculpture you were, shaping you to suit him with raw ease. emphasis on the raw.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with one last full length thrust, you both had equally hit the highs you practically clawed each other for. the climax that had your entire body twitching from head to toe whilst your eyes struggled to stay open. his thick, crystalline seed painted your walls so white it’d seem like a brand new room. it was so much, so fucking much, that he had pent up for so long he couldn’t possibly stop himself even if he wanted to.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his hands that had now engraved his grip into the flesh of your biceps traveled down to your thighs, kneading them through your high so you weren’t so timid. it definitely did help, prattled breaths dripping from your tongue through the entirety of it. his were likewise weaved into yours, his chest riding every so often all the while he watched how your mixed juices spilled from your pussy, trickling in a pool along the edge of the mattress.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with a lazy huff and pulling himself from inside you, the man slowly reached down to you and scooped your back into his grasp; uttering a vague "c’mon, pretty, lets get you cleaned up,"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ “wanna fill you up s’fuckin’ much, pretty,”

© 𝐘𝓤𝐌𝓘𝐒𝐓𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑⠀𝜗ϱ⠀mature discretion advised. all rights reserved. do not plagiarize or steal works.

[fanon-canon-idfk]

WAIT POLY SKK SCENARIO THAT HAS BEEN ROTTING IN MY BRAIN FOR A WHILE…

GC WHERE MALE READER SENDS GOOFY AHH STUFF TO THE GC AND CHUUYA GETS SO ANNOYED

aftercare (if ur uncomfortable with the genre pls skip)

where like after masc reader is just too fkin tired to put le boxeres back on so he just sits there tired asf and chuuya is like dude we just finished out it back on 🧍 and ofc dazais gonna be goofy asf like “ooo look at mr show off over hereeeee”

ALSO ALSO…

M! READER THAT IS LIKE RLLY SLEEPY WHENEVER HE RECIEVES AFFECTION JUST LIKE A FEW KISSES AND HES GONE WITH THE WIND

imagine the use of “pretty boy” to m! reader ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

1ST SCENARIO

It was yet another day at work in the agency alongside your boyfriend, Dazai

Who was also texting your other boyfriend, Chuuya.

Meanwhile, you were focusing on finishing your work as your phone buzzed in sync with giggles from Dazai sitting in the desk beside you.

The moment you finished your paperwork you looked over to his grinning face with a lifted brow before pulling your phone out and reading your notifications:

Chu Chu 10:47 PM

What are you guys doing?

Osa 10:49 PM

Dying of boredom 💔

Chu Chu 10:49

So you’re doing nothing

Osa 10:50

Chuuya expects so little of me! I’m working very hard!!

Chu Chu 10:50

Whatever I’m going back to work

Ah so that’s why Dazai was giggling.

Such a shame though, he seems so bored again now without anything to do. (bc he refuses to do his work)

So, as the good boyfriend you are, you picked up your phone and started typing.

You 10:52

Don’t be a bully Chu

Chu Chu 10:53

Tf you mean bully???

You 10:53

Poor Osamu is crying now!!!

Right on cue, you hear Dazai giggling again with his phone in his hands. He looks up at you with a giant grin, mischief already riddling his complexion.

Dazai wheels his chair right beside yours and whispers something in your ear, causing you to nod and chuckle to yourself.

Dazai put on a sad face, a pout with some puppy eyes, (Literally this emoji 🥺) and you took a photo of him with your phone.

You 10:55

[Sent an image]

Chu Chu 10:55

Oh stfu

Osa 10:55

ITS TRUE YOUVE BROKEN MY HEART SLUG 💔

Chu Chu 10:55

I’m going back to work.

You 10:56

CHUUYA APOLOGIZE

Osa 10:56

APOLOGIZE

Chu Chu 10:56

STFU IM WORKING

Osa 10:57

APOLOGIZE‼️

You 10:57

APOLOGIZE

Chu Chu 10:58

OH MY FUCKING GOD

He loves you guys <3

2ND SCENARIO

Chuuya and Dazai had gone off to shower together after the 3 of you had an… intimate moment. You however, decided to shower after them because you were fucking exhausted.

Having two guys in bed with you is a lotta work, who knew.

You stayed laying down on the mattress, an arm over your face as your eyes started growing heavy. Ultimately, you fell asleep for a short nap.

In, what for you felt like a few minutes, Chuuya and Dazai had exited the bathroom with a new set of outfits on.

The second they laid their eyes on you Chuuya spoke up, “Oh what the fuck? You can’t even just put on your boxers??”

You woke up at the sound of his voice, situating yourself to rest on your elbows lazily as you looked back at them both. “Yup. Too much work..” you sighed.

Dazai chuckled, “Oh no, please, do keep yourself as comfortable possible~.” He smirked, eyeing your bare body admiringly.

“Ok- you, go fuckin shower,” he ordered, pointing at you sternly before turning around to Dazai.

“And you- stop fucking looking! I’m not going another round just because you can’t relax!” He shoves his hands over Dazai’s eyes, pushing him and himself out of the bathroom doorway for you to go in.

You sighed tiredly, begrudgingly getting up and grabbing yourself some clothing from the dresser. You groggily walked into the bathroom, leaving Chuuya and Dazai alone.

As you closed the door behind you, Chuuya removed his hands from Dazai’s face, revealing a pouting expression.

“What?” Chuuya questioned,

Dazai just responded simply, “Cockblocker.”

3RD SCENARIO

You were all sitting on the couch watching a movie, yourself sitting in the middle. Dazai had his head resting on your shoulder while Chuuya was locking hands with you.

It was late at night so it was normal for you to be tired, but you didn’t feel like falling asleep in the slightest quite yet, the movie holding your attention a bit too well.

That was until you felt Dazai place a soft peck on your jawline, and you just instantly internally melted.

Your eyes started growing heavy like it was magic, you suddenly didn’t have the strength to even keep your head up! You laid your head atop of Dazai’s, his soft locks not doing you any favors.

You were at war with your eyelids, fighting to keep them open so you could keep watching the movie with your boyfriends.

Chuuya then looked over to you, noticing your battle to stay awake. “Are you falling asleep?” He chuckled, you replied stubbornly “No..”

He just laughed again, sliding his hand around your head and pulling you in to use his lap as a pillow. “It’s ok, pretty boy,” he smiled softly “just get your rest, we can always watch the movie again.”

Dazai watched the scene play out between you two, deciding to join in as he laid down as well. He rested his head onto your chest as he laid on top of you.

“Get your rest, handsome,” he teased, his words accompanied by another soft kiss, this time to your neck.

With that, you accepted your fate. Within just a few seconds, you were out like a light.

“Night sleeping beauty.” Chuuya whispered softly, lulling you further into sleep with a hand in your hair.

TYSM FOR GIVING ME THESE SCENARIOS THEY WERE SO CUTE ALSO HAPPY LATE VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE <33

[dwaekkicidal]

Dude your munch Felix has me in a chokehold I just need to hear one of Seungmin please 😩

hehe im glad u liked the felix one :3 & i got you!

fem!reader | warnings: messy oral (f receiving), overstim, spanking, (1) pvssy slap

Munch Masterlist

Munch!Seungmin who receives multiple images from you in his text messages: the first few being innocent pictures of you in your bed, in his shirt, and reading a book. but the others? they're more detailed pictures of what exactly you have under that shirt. or the lack thereof, i should say.

Munch!Seungmin who had the weekend off and tried spending quality time on day 1 with his maknae, but after a few hours he folds all too easily when more pictures were sent

Munch!Seungmin who accidentally opens them in front of the younger, then immediately finds himself separating from Jeongin a few hours earlier than planned to run rush to your apartment

Munch!Seungmin who uses his spare key to get in and immediately marches to your bedroom, walking in with a blank expression to where you lay on the bed reading the book and smiling at him sweetly

Munch!Seungmin who wordlessly lays on the bed between your legs, pushing them up by your thighs to rest as close to your chest as they can without being in the way of your book

Munch!Seungmin who ignores your questions in favor of curtly licking through your folds once, sighing happily at the familiar taste, then moving to nibble along your inner thigh

Munch!Seungmin who riles you for 10 long minutes, even going as far as to ignore you completely. he disregards your whines and complaints for him to 'hurry up' just so he can leave hickeys all over your thighs

Munch!Seungmin who will finally indulge the both of you after he's convinced you to hold your legs up without his help and to keep reading it (sometimes even making you read out loud)

Munch!Seungmin who is sweet with it for a while. he slowly makes out with your hole while his nose slides against your clit his hands caress your waist lovingly

Munch!Seungmin who only moves away from your hole to lick long stripes along your folds with his tongue flattened

Munch!Seungmin who mumbles into your pussy about how "You taste so good, pup." and "Keep reading or I'll fuckin stop."

Munch!Seungmin who brings you to your first orgasm of the night, pushing you over the edge by wrapping his pretty lips directly around your clit and sucking it

Munch!Seungmin who lets you ride out your orgasm by grinding against his mouth until you slow to a stop and pant below him, book still in hand though it's now completely forgotten about

Munch!Seungmin who shoves your book to the side, ignoring your complaint of the lack of a bookmark, and pushes your legs the rest of the way to your chest

Munch!Seungmin who sits up to hold you down and give himself an advantage over your shaking form as he returns his face to where he says it belongs (in between your legs)

Munch!Seungmin who overstimulates you like this, his face covered in your wetness as he pushes you to the point of painful pleasure

Munch!Seungmin who pulls his hands away from your hips only to land smacks to your ass cheeks when you try to push him away; the way you're folded gives him easy access without having to pull away from your sweet little cunt <3

Munch!Seungmin who, if you manage to pull your hips any distance away that removes his mouth from you, will pull away finally just to leave a slap to your pussy, rubbing over it a few times in apology

Munch!Seungmin who then adds his fingers in as a funishment, bullying your g-spot while he laps at your clit hungrily

Munch!Seungmin who will pull as many orgasms from you like this as you allow or as many as you can take without saying a safeword

Munch!Seungmin who only stops once he is satisfied; which usually means he's not stopping until you squirt AT LEAST once. though, depending on his mood, it might be more than once

Munch!Seungmin who keeps track of how many times you come each time he does this, and will try to break his record every. single. time.

[mommynott]

Locker Room Relief

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Filled with anxiety before a big game, you help Theo…relax and release some tension👀 This is my hockey!theo series. If you haven’t already, check out pt.1 & pt.2!

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, MDNI, chars 18+, modern au, pro hockey au, hockey!theo, dom!theo, semi-public, oral, blowjob, throatfucking, praising, degrading, dirty talk, teasing, swallowing, dom&sub, slight slapping, Theo destroying our throat

Saturday night had arrived and you were eager to head to Theodore’s game. He invited you to come watch him play stating nothing would make him happier. Between the texts and hangouts, you were growing more and more feelings toward the Italian.

Walking into the ice arena, the crowd was roaring and the bleachers were packed. But that’s when you recognized one of his friends approaching you. Enzo or Lorenzo. Something like that.

“Hey…Nott is kinda…In his head or somethin’- you mind talking to him?” Enzo asked through a heavy breath as he approached you. Concern washed over your features. You were aware this was a pretty big fucking game. “Uh…Yeah, of course. Where is he at?”

The second you asked the question Lorenzo nodded his head toward the locker rooms. Not waiting for another second, you stormed off toward the door and entered the locker room. “Theo? Hello? Are you in here?”

Walking deeper inside the dimly lit locker room, the sounds of the massive crowd were muffled now. Then you saw him, sitting on a bench with his face slammed into his palms. His leg bounced against the concrete floor.

“Theo…Oh, sweet thing…What’s wrong?”

Whispering out your words, you approached the Italian. Kneeling between his legs you removed his hands from his face. Your eyes locked on his and that’s when you could see it. Nervousness. Anxiety. Worry.

“Fuck…I don’t know- Our opponents…They’re definitely fuckin’ good-“ Theo’s tone was shaky, and you gave him a sympathetic smile. Nodding your head as you took his strong hands within yours. “Hey- it’ll be okay. You’re a fucking great player! I know you’ll do an amazing job…”

Your smile grew a bit as a grin tugged on Theodore’s lips. He let out a low chuckle and kept his ocean gaze on yours. “Thank you, amore…I’m just so damn nervous…” His Italian accent rolled off of his tongue while he glanced away for a moment.

However, an idea struck you. Perhaps not the best but it would definitely give him some kind of encouragement. “Well…I can help…give you some luck—“ A giggle freed between your lips as you fell to your knees, your hands tracing down to his pants.

Theodore raised a brow while a sly smirk danced on his face. “Oh? Some luck you say, huh?” His voice now low and dangerous, you bit down on your lower lip as you shimmed off his pants and boxers.

His throbbing erection popped out as he leaned back on the bench and a little gasp released your lips. “See…Let’s get rid of some of this tension, baby…” A seductive whisper, you wrapped your hands around his massive cock.

Slowly stroking it as first, Theo groaned, wrapping your hair up in a ponytail as he pushed you closer to his length. “I really…really need that release, Cara Mia- Fuck—“ Giggling at his words, you didn’t make him wait much longer. Kissing his precum-stained tip, teasing Theo, his grip on your silky hair only tightened. “You and your teasing…Imma destroy that pretty throat of yours-“ Wetness pooled between your thighs while you spread your lips, slowly taking in his cock.

Gazing up at Theo with submissive doe eyes, he felt as if he could explode in your mouth right then and there. Bobbing your head faster by the second, he tilted his head back. Taking in all of the pleasure.

“Faster- open up that pretty throat of yours, amore—“

Through his more spastic moans, you obeyed, trying to relax your throat muscles. However, the moment you did, Theodore wrapped his other hand in your locks before going to town and thrusting himself in your mouth.

Tears welled up in your eyes while he mercilessly fucked your throat, feeling as if it was spreading for his length. Sure as hell wouldn’t have a voice after this. All in all, you fucking loved it. “Dick-sucking slut— Huh? My dick-sucking slut— Fuck…that throat feels too damn good-“

The degradation, the praising, you swore you could finish from that alone. Taking his entire cock down your throat, you managed to keep your gaze on his. And Theo’s view?

Mascara dripping down your face, glossed over submissive eyes. He could hardly contain it. —Slap!- With a quick flick of his palm, he swatted across your face but only slightly, his smirk growing. “Such a mess for me aren’t you, Tesoro?”

Taunting you as he drilled down your throat you managed to muffle a moan “-Mmhmmmm—“ Enjoying every second of this. Suddenly, you could feel Theo’s cock twitching between your throat.

“-Cazzo— Imma…Imma cum down that pretty throat…You better swallow every last drop, got it?”

He spoke through his intense panting while you managed to nod your head. After a few more thrusts, Theo jolted, a loud growl emitting from his chest. Feeling his warm sticky cum coat all over your throat and of course, swallowing every bit of it.

That doe-eyed gaze remained up on the player, he slowly pulled out of your mouth and took his thumb to whip some drool from your lips. “Gods— You’re fuckin’ amazing, amore…” Breathing out, he pressed his lips softly to yours and helped you up.

“Did that help?” You asked him through a soft giggle while he grabbed a clean towel and helped wipe up and clean your face. “Oh…It sure as hell did, Tesoro-“ Smirking, he chuckled lowly and gave you one last kiss.

You both walked slowly toward the door of the locker room. The crowd still going wild. Theo looked back at you once more and shot you a cheeky winky that made your heart flutter.

“You’re my good luck charm-“

Ahhhh part three!!! I hope y’all enjoyed hehehe I can’t wait for more hockey!theo🫦

Divider linked in my masterlist🌙

Love my naughty nymphs💋✨

[staybabblingbaby]

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.4 (Lewisia) a3d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 10,680

Notes: Holy shit, it's been like 3 months?????? In my defense, holidays are awful, and this is a fuckin' beast of a chapter. Binnie would NAWT shut up T^T She almost matches the word count for the entire fic so far TT^TT Plus 10 images of texting. Y am i like this??? Huge shout outs to my lovely, patient, amazing betas who made this chapter at ALL possible, @lazyfacecowboy and @brbwritingfanfic. Seriously, this would not have been written without y'all, everyone say thank you! Also special mention for @chancloud8 for negotiating me through the last bit of the chapter LMAO. She kept feeding me fics, they were my reward for doing the writing UvU

Hope y'all enjoy! And I hope it was worth the wait <3

(p.s my ass did NOT do a real final readthrough. If the formatting is weird pls forgive me, I'm sick of looking @ her T^T)

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: Allusions to past domestic violence, flashback of verbal abuse (very vague, but still there), panic attack, she/her reader

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part (Coming Soon <3)

The next morning marks a return to routine.

You roll out of bed half awake, sleep-mused and ready for murder. Your mood isn’t improved by the way you’d gone to bed - still in your work clothes with day-after mascara gluing your eyelids together.

A quick stop by the restroom to strip and scrub your face is a necessity, otherwise you’re liable to just crawl back into bed and rot there. You honestly wish you could. Just rot away and let all this soulmate business pass you by as you slowly return to the earth.

Alas, capitalism waits for no man.

You examine your reflection when you’ve finished, doing your best to ignore the remaining traces of grey streaks down your cheeks where your eyeliner hadn’t been as waterproof as advertised.

You try to hold onto the flash of irritation the sight brings you, to cling to the normalcy of being irritated that your makeup is waterproof enough to be a pain to remove, but not to stay through your tears. Then you remember what you’d been crying over and the pit of fear and shame that’s been your companion the last few days comes rolling back.

You don’t even know why you’d cried. Don’t feel like you deserved to cry. After all, it’s not like you were the one rejected by your soulmate for no reason.

You do your best to shake off the incoming spiral, ambling your way into the kitchen. You just need to fall back on your routines and feel normal for a bit. You’re not entirely convinced that ignoring your problems won’t make them go away, despite the dark feelings trembling in your chest.

You press your lips together to stop the bottom one from trembling and open the fridge. There’s a plate of eggs, fruit, and toast inside.

Taylor, freak of nature that he is, has been up for hours already, you know. He’d probably been up and out the door before the sun had even thought about rising. Weirdo.

Your roommate is well aware of how non-functional you can be in the morning, so it’s not unusual of him to leave you leftovers when he makes breakfast. Especially when he knows you’re not feeling your best. The little note on top isn’t new either: usually a reminder, grocery list, or a little encouragement for your day. The whole thing makes you smile, usually, and you’re always touched by his consideration.

Today that little note makes your eyes prick with a new wave of tears.

‘Give yourself a chance. Bet’s still on <3’

The $20 you’d slapped onto the counter last night is taped to the back. It feels a bit like a stone hand is crushing your heart under the weight of something unknowable and precious when you carefully tuck both the money and the note into your wallet.

You very deliberately do NOT cry, though it’s a near thing. You’d done enough crying last night. But if you sniffle a bit into cold eggs, well...

That’s for you to know, isn’t it?

It’s a Tuesday, so after breakfast you drag yourself back to your room to throw on your largest, rattiest, t-shirt and a pair of leggings to head to the gym. You’ll drag yourself through your routine with leaded limbs if you have to, you’re going to have the most regular day you can manage and everything will be fine. It has to be.

You can’t help it when eyes catch on the newly-bloomed marks on your skin as you strip away your sleepwear. The sight makes you uneasy, almost uncomfortable. It takes you a moment to realize why looking at your mark, a daily ritual you’ve kept for years, feels so foreign to you today.

It’s almost alarming to acknowledge that you haven’t actually looked at your mark since you’d met your first soulmate. The concert feels like a lifetime ago, now, despite having been barely two days ago. You’re a bit ashamed to admit that you’d been avoiding looking at it since you’d felt the first flowers bloom.

It’s no wonder looking at it feels weird, you muse as you study it now. It might as well be a whole new mark, for all the changes that have happened since you last saw it.

You decide, in the name of returning to your routine for good, that you can’t skip even this tiny part of your daily rituals.

You shuffle over to your closet, swinging open the door to reveal the full-length mirror hanging on the other side. You don’t bother with your usual rounds of self-depreciation or daily affirmations. Instead, you find your eyes glued to droopy purple petals and blankets of white stars across your abdomen.

Something wilted and small within you mourns the loss of the buds that had brought you so much comfort since they’d appeared. The new blooms are beautiful, of course, vibrant and radiant and full of so much meaning. Still, the change wounds you.

Only time will tell if it’s the healing sort of hurt.

You find your eyes glued to the fresh flowers. Their names come to mind with ease as you trace gentle fingers over echoes of delicate petals. ‘Bellflowers’ You recite to yourself, drawing your finger up thin stalks and back down dipped heads, ‘for gratitude, affection, and endurance’. Your fingers dance a bit lower. ‘Edelweiss’ you muse, lightly tapping each fuzzy white star, ‘for devotion, nobility, and courage’.

The knowledge comes easily to you, not from any cosmic force, but because of course it does. Your sister hadn’t been wrong when she’d said that asking a person’s favorite flower had been basically an obsession of yours.

The habit had started well before you’d gotten your mark. Before you’d even properly known what soulmates were, really.

It started with lazy summer days you’d been almost too young to remember. A slim hand engulfing your tiny wrist, being made to sit next to your mother while she did something in the dirt, her shadow your only shelter from the blistering sun.

Gardening with your mother had started as a way for her to drag you out of the house to get some sun while keeping an easy eye on you. Before your sister was born you’d spent many hazy afternoons learning to work the soil beside your mother.

After the advent of your favorite gremlin, you’d spent those afternoons tending to the family garden alone.

You remember being grateful to the newborn back then. Those solitary afternoons were some of the most peaceful in your memory.

At some point the ‘family garden’ had become more ‘your garden’. Your mother wouldn’t even bother to plan it out with you by the time your sister had reached her toddler years. She’d drive you to the store, hand you a bit of cash, and leave it all in your tiny capable hands.

You’d spent hours researching the best ways to nurture your plants.

What flowers liked being planted together, which ones should be separated. You learned about soil types and the nutrients found in them. You learned about ph values, how to measure them, and why they mattered. Anything to have your garden thriving more brightly, more beautifully, for longer.

If you weren’t in the garden, you were in the library by your house, nose buried in a gardening book.

You vividly remember the day it all went wrong.

It hadn’t even been that dramatic, as you recall. At least, not in terms of your parent’s usual fights. It was heartbreak—despair— that had marked the day, instead of fear.

You’d been digging up weeds, clawing up deep roots with your gloved hands and a trowel, when your father had come storming outside.

You don’t remember what he’d said. It’d been nonsense, just vitriol for vitriols' sake. Something about you always taking your mother’s side because of your shared hobby, you think.

Never mind that the woman hadn’t put so much as a toenail to the dirt since your sister had been born.

He hadn’t let up for quite a while, if memory serves. Stood there yelling at you in your safe space for close to an hour. Maybe two, but your child-brain couldn’t be trusted with the time.

It may have just been minutes, now that you think about it.

Nonetheless, he’d yelled, and yelled, and yelled. He hadn’t trampled on or broken anything. He hadn’t even made sense.

And yet, when he’d finally left, everything was different.

The blooms you’d worked so hard to nurture were no longer beautiful, the soil you’d once called home no longer safe.

You hadn’t tended another garden after that season. You’d seen your plants to winter, and you’d let go. You’d turned away from the sun and soil and leaned into your books and silly questions to fill the hole left behind.

You’re sure you’d left claw marks in the dirt.

Something like a gentle humming emanates from your soulmark, and its warmth draws you back to the present. You look down at it, noticing how tightly you're clutching at the garden around your waist, your arms wrapped around you in a weak semblance of a hug. Each of your fingers had managed to directly touch a flower.

The awkward sprawl of your fingers feels natural, as if you’d never sought to comfort yourself any other way. As if seeking out your bond, your link to total strangers, for comfort was all you’d ever done.

It was natural, you muse. It was human nature to seek resonance in their bonded. It was the universe’s way of assuring you that you’re loved. Your soulmate’s way of assuring you that they’re still there.

You gingerly pry your hands away and blankly study the crescent moons you’ve left behind, soft skin indented where petals should have ripped.

You wonder if you’ll leave claw marks in this garden too. If they’ll leave claw marks in you.

You tear your eyes away from the mirror, ignoring the warm, gentle tingling up your side where your fingers had dug in. You know it means the people on the other end are pressing against their own marks. You know it shows their care, how that gentle sensation masks the stinging ache your fingers should have left behind.

For some reason, you miss the pain.

You quickly toss on a camisole, forgoing your usual privacy wraps, and your t-shirt over that.

There was nothing for emptying your mind quite like running yourself into the ground at the gym. With full awareness that you’re going to regret your gym session later, you flee your apartment, your mind pleading normal, normal, normal.

Maybe jogging all the way to the gym wasn’t such a great idea. It’d sounded fantastic at the time, a head start on your cardio and a way to remove yourself from your negative headspace before you tried to toss around weights you barely knew how to use.

It had sort of worked, but now you hadn’t even entered the building and you were already a sweaty, panting, mess.

You enter the building after guzzling down half of your water bottle, resignation in your heart. Cardio wasn’t even your focus today.

The automatic doors slide open with their usual swish and you’re greeted by the familiar stale smell all gyms seem to share, no matter how clean. It’s comforting, even if you do kind of wanna go home already.

There’s someone already at the receptionist’s desk when you approach, talking in slow and measured English. You try not to be annoyed with the tiny delay, but while you’d successfully outrun your demons (for now), your bad mood had stuck around.

Alas, you’ve ventured into the public and found the public there. A travesty. Knowing that you just have to deal with it, you cross your arms and bite back the irritation this complete stranger hadn’t done anything to earn.

Luckily enough, the low and measured cadence of the stranger’s voice is soothing enough to zone out to. Unfortunately, he’s also the only thing around to rest your eyes on, so you find yourself studying his form.

His back is broad and built, huge biceps on display in a tight fitting black t-shirt. You kinda wanna squish them. A vivid tattoo sleeve runs all the way down to his wrist, and you find your stare glued to it.

Large, boldly colored flowers take up the majority of the space, vague outlines of crashing waves and rolling mists filling in the rest with a luxurious combination of oriental art styles.

Beautiful as it is, you can’t help but think it doesn’t look finished.

Dragging your eyes away from such gorgeous ink is quite the task, but you don’t want your admiration to be mistaken for judgement. It gets easier when you start to notice just how fine the man himself is.

You really can’t help the way your eyes trace up and down his body, now that you’re no longer anchored to his tattoo. It should be impossible, you think, to somehow bulk up in only the right places, but by Jove this man has done it. You’re jealous, honestly.

Your eyes come to a rest on the stranger’s backside. Quite jealous, indeed.

You try to shake yourself from your admiration, reminding yourself that there were very many well-muscled men in this place and that you’d always endeavored to keep a polite line-of-sight, even when they didn't. It hadn’t even been a hard ask, until now.

You drag your gaze back up to the back of his head.

You’d be polite if it killed you. Even if neither the stranger or the scrawny receptionist had noticed your wandering gaze. Especially then.

While you were.... distracted... the man’s conversation with the receptionist seemed to have gone a whole lot of nowhere. From what you can gather, he’s looking for a short-term membership, and the receptionist is trying to tell him they don’t do that.

You know that’s true, the receptionist isn’t trying to scam the guy. Even the trial period for this place was an entire month. You’d specifically chosen this gym for that reason. If you hadn’t been able to stick it out for a month, you know you’d have never used the place enough to justify a membership.

You send your sympathies to this stranger, it seems he really just needs a little less than a week. You know there are some no-commitment type places not too far though, so you wonder why he’s stuck on this place.

Their back and forth goes a while longer, but it’s evident that the beautifully-built stranger can’t really argue his case properly. Whether because of the obvious language barrier he’s working with, or because he’s run out of arguments, you can’t be sure.

Eventually he steps to the side to make a call, and you’re able to approach the counter.

The receptionist (His name is Jake, you remind yourself by reading his name-tag. The owner’s nephew, if you recall) looks relieved to see you after whatever hassling the stranger had given him.

He lazily waves the clipboard and its sign-in sheet at you in greeting. You take the clipboard, trading him your membership card and driver’s license for it, and turn to prop your knee up on the counter to balance it while you write.

Incidentally, your choice of position keeps the stranger in your line of sight.

It also happens to give Jake a view of his own, but you magnanimously ignore his gaze wandering to your chest. If only because you’re still looking not-so-respectfully at the tattooed stranger a few feet away.

You weren’t close to the receptionist by any means, but Jake is easy to chat to, when you take the extra minute to do so. The type of acquaintance you’d never remember the name of if it weren’t pinned to his lapel, but you've seen pictures of every dog he’s ever had.

It makes it easy to pry him for gossip.

“So what was that all about?” You query as you hand back the clipboard. He shrugs at you, typing a second longer.

“Some big-shot who needs a security detail,” He answers, unimpressed, “Says this is the only gym in, like, five miles of his hotel that he doesn’t need an entourage to go to.”

You hum your understanding, now trying to place if the handsome stranger was someone you knew of.

Situations like that weren’t uncommon for this gym. Celebrities that actually lived in LA weren’t spotted here very often but, since it was settled very close to quite a few high-security luxury hotels, the building saw its fair share of famous faces.

Due to its occasionally high-profile clientele, security was kept quite tightly, and a certain code of conduct was expected amongst the gym’s members. It was another justification for the long trial period, wherein one could only access the front room with the basic weights and machines. All the fancy stuff (including a pool, rock wall, dance studio, and all sorts) was in the back.

Non-members weren’t allowed past reception at all.

It was also another reason you yourself were a patron here. The high security and strict standards made for a quiet and comfortable atmosphere.

At least, as long as you ignored the judgmental looks. Most people who utilized this space were much more fit and put together than you. You tried not to let it bother you.

“What’s the issue, then?” You question Jake, “Doesn’t the owner make exceptions for celebrities?” You phrase it as a question, but you know he does. The unfamiliar faces that pop up for a few days every now and then wouldn’t show up otherwise.

Jake just sighs like he’s had this conversation a thousand times. Considering the celebrity(?) waving his hands around as he spoke rapidly into his phone not far away, maybe he had.

“He does, but he’s out of town and no one else can adjust the contracts.” He eventually explains. He finally hands you your stuff back, and you hum consideringly as you put the cards back in your wallet.

Another glance at the furrowed brows on the stranger’s masked face has pity welling up your throat.

You turn your gaze to focus on Jake.

“Do I still have that visitor pass?” You ask him, knowing that he still has your details up. Jake glances at you with a raised eyebrow, but obligingly checks the computer.

“Yup,” He confirms, “You’ve been paying for it since you dragged your poor roommate in here that one time. Why?”

“Can he use it?” you nod your head to the frustrated stranger. From where you’re sat, still perched on the edge of the desk, it looks oddly like he’s begging whoever’s on the other line.

Your visitor pass wasn’t all-access, of course. It’d just get the poor guy into the main front room plus the locker rooms and showers, but you figured it’d be better than nothing. It wasn’t like Taylor would step foot in here after you’d run him ragged last time, not even for the moral support.

Jake levels you with his most deadpan stare. It’s quite a good one, completely unimpressed. You think it must be something about customer service that allows him to make that face. Or maybe it’s just you.

“You realize that your visitor pass is you vouching for your visitor’s character, right?” He reminds you, “If he does anything, breaks anything, pisses off the wrong lifeguard- it’ll be on your head.”

You just shrug. It’s not like you couldn’t find a new gym if you had to. You’d miss this one, with its quiet atmosphere and abundant amenities, but you didn’t require its security and discretion like some of the other members did.

“I’ve got a good feeling about it.” Is all you tell Jake. It’s not even a lie.

The poor boy just rolls his eyes at you. He still turns to rifle through the desk for the right form for you to fill out though, so you’ll take it.

“You a fan of his or something?” Jake asks, handing you a different clipboard. “There are easier ways to bag a celebrity.”

“Nope!” You answer cheerfully, fully ignoring the suggestion of your motives as you start to fill out the form, “No idea who he is.”

Jakes huffs an incredulous laugh, and turns a considering gaze on your new friend. And the stranger does have to be a friend now, because ‘some guy’ is not an option on your paperwork.

“I bet he’s a wrestler,” he finally says after a long moment, “Or a sportswear model.”

You gently bop him on the head with your clipboard, “I refuse to participate in your speculation.” You admonish, ignoring his whining.

“I’ll show you his picture when you leave,” He smirks back, “and whatever google says about him.” He shrugs when you send him a cutting glare, “What? It’s public information.”

“Respect your customer’s privacy, you weirdo.” You scold. He just laughs as you hand him the form, all filled out and just waiting for the stranger’s signature. You know full well that Jake will go through with his research, regardless of what you say, so you give up easily.

It’s not like he’ll be fired for doing it, as long as you don’t go blabbing about the poor celebrity outside of the gym. Privileges of nepotism.

You exchange farewells as you hop off the counter, and he begins to wave over Mr. Celebrity. You meet the eyes of your on-paper friend and offer him a quick nod before you scuttle off deeper into the building.

Hopefully he’d be too grateful for your offer to find you terribly strange.

You manage to make it all the way through your warm-ups before your good deed gets punished. You suppose you’ll be grateful to the universe for letting you find your zen on your yoga mat before it dropped the other shoe.

You notice the legs in the mirror before you realize someone is trying to speak to you. You accidentally ignore the newcomer for several long moments, assuming they were approaching to use a different part of the mirror. When you finally realize they’re waiting for you to acknowledge them, it’s been just shy of too long.

You ease out of your last stretch and stand up, automatically taking an earbud out as you turn to face them.

“Sorry, did you need me to move?” You question as you finally look up. You‘d had your most emo playlist blasting in your ears during your warm up, an attempt to process your feelings through movement or whatever that one instructor from forever ago had tried to teach you.

So of course it’s with perfect clarity that A. Jay Popoff sings “I am my own worst enemy” into the empty space between you and Seo motherfuckin’ Changbin.

Your mental plea for a normal, routine sort of day dies a horrible death when you make eye contact with the pop-star.

And you realize you really must be your worst enemy as you do, because you easily recognize the outfit he’s wearing and the vivid tattoos on his arm.

Of course your good deed for the day led you to one of your soulmates. Of. Fucking. Course.

You’re not sure what you’d done to Karma recently for her to be throwing all of this shit at you right now, but you’d appreciate it if she’d just let you apologize instead of whatever cruel punishment this is.

Changbin must realize you recognize him, because he shyly raises a hand to fiddle with his earrings as he replies.

“Ah, no, I uh...” The hand slides to the back of his neck and he clears his throat uncomfortably. You quickly school your expression back into a semblance of normality when he glances away. You feel like you might still be a bit wild around the eyes, though.

“I just wanted to say thank you.” He concludes. He looks like he wants to say more, but you figure he might not have the English words to do so easily. It’s okay, you don’t really have the Korean to describe how you’re feeling right now either.

Your first instinct is to offer to speak Korean for him, but the air between the two of you is already wildly uncomfortable. Vastly different causes for both of you, you’re sure, but it’s enough to make you second guess your every move.

“Oh, uh, no problem.” You assure.

You stare resolutely at his nose when you speak. If you look into his eyes again you’re sure you’ll spill your entire life story. And if not that extreme, you’ll at least spill the whole soulmate thing. Something about being directly confronted with your problems makes you chatty.

But also if you look away from his face, knowing that body is supposed to be compatible with yours... It leads to some very impolite thoughts. Cute as it is, his nose is the safest thing for you to look at right now.

You offer the idol a thin-lipped smile when you realize the interaction hasn’t ended. Dear god, why has it not ended?

“Anything else I can do for ya?” you offer, inwardly cursing your manners. You’ve lived here long enough that you know people outside your tiny country-side town take that as an invitation instead of a dismissal.

Sure enough, Changbin starts to speak again, his words slow and careful. You watch him wipe his palms on his shorts, idly wondering if he’s shitting himself internally as much as you are right now. And what he’s freaking out about if he is.

“You... Recognize me? Are you STAY?” He gestures a bit while he talks, like he’s trying to cast a spell on you to understand what he’s trying to say. You think it might work, because your mouth is running off without you before you quite process the words.

“Ahh.. hah, uh,” You chuckle awkwardly, your fingers rising to pinch your lips nervously, “My roommate is. We were at your concert the other day, actually,” And even as you say the words your eyes flick down to his arm. You refocus, hopefully before he could notice the quick glance, but you can’t stop your thoughts from spiraling.

After all, he didn’t have that kind of ink at the concert. You and Taylor were front row, right up on the barricade, you’d seen all eight Stray Kids up close and personal. You’d have remembered such a vivid tattoo. And there were only so many reasons to cover a sleeve like that so completely.

Something complicated settles in your stomach as you realize that Changbin is probably a ‘loud and proud’ kind of soulmate, if he’s showing off his mark like this outside of his work. Work you know prevents him from showing off his mark.

Your mouth keeps running without you while you have your little crisis.

“I didn’t recognize you at reception, I woulda had you sign something for him.” You can’t help the rush of embarrassment that sweeps through you, even as you laugh uncomfortably at your own joke.

Why on earth would you say something like that? This situation is already uncomfortable enough! On so many levels!

Somehow, this seems to have been the right thing to say, though, as Changbin’s eyes light up at your joke, the tension easing a bit.

“I can sign,” He suggests, “It would make me feel...” He starts gesturing again, looking for the word he wants, “Less bad?” He finishes like a question.

And suddenly you understand his awkwardness a lot better. It always sucks to feel indebted to someone.

You laugh a little more freely with your new understanding, “Oh, you really don’t have to,” You assure, “I was just joking.”

He shakes his head, “Think of it as.. trade.” He nods, satisfied with himself.

You bob your head to the side, pressing your lips together with a tiny, frustrated, whine, “I really didn’t want anything from you,” you insist, “I hold onto that pass for my roommate, but he never comes with me anyways. You’re doing me a favor using it, seriously.”

You try to speak slowly and clearly, taking a page from Changbin’s book and letting your hands roam while you speak. You hope your spell of understanding works as well as his did.

He takes a moment to respond, mouthing along to some of your words. It’s kind of fascinating to watch someone translate in real time, especially when the process is written all over their face. It’s a little surreal to be on the other side of it.

Eventually his face clears, and he makes a little ‘ah!’ noise that you really shouldn’t find as endearing as you do. You’re in the middle of rejecting your soulmates, you should not be finding one of them cute right now.

“If it is roommate’s pass, more reason to sign, yes?” He reasons, looking proud of his logic. You huff a tiny laugh at him, absolutely charmed.

“Sure, big guy,” You sigh with defeat, though you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face, “Sounds like a fair trade. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

The two of you stall for a moment, the atmosphere leagues lighter than before.

When the moment seems over, you make a show of looking down at your pocket-less outfit, and then at the ground around you.

“I don’t have a pen on me,” you trail off meaningfully. He looks surprised for a second, like the possibility had never occurred to him.

“Oh,” He looks around as well, lost for a moment, “I can see if front desk has one?” he asks, like he’s looking for instruction. Another thought seems to occur to him then.

“Do you have...” He starts to gesture again, but you cut him off with a nod, fairly certain you’re sure what he’s trying to ask.

“Yeah, I’m sure I can find something for you to sign,” You point in the direction of the locker room, “I’ll probably have to look in my bag though.” You glance between him, the door to the locker room, and the door that leads out to reception.

“Meet back here in 5?” you propose. He seems content with this plan and nods in agreement. “Oh!” You stop him before he can fully turn around.

“Ask for a sharpie,” you instruct, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to find regular paper.” In fact, you’re pretty sure you’ll be sacrificing the spare ball cap you keep in your bag for this. You hope Taylor likes tie-dye.

With that, the two of you go your separate ways. It takes you no time at all to locate the bright monstrosity of a hat, a souvenir you abhorred from one of your father’s many ‘business’ trips. It would be no loss to you, but you take time to see if you have any actual paper around. You need the processing time.

Stars above, what were you thinking? There was no way you were getting out of this without another soulmate bond, but here you were, casually chatting with the guy instead of getting the fuck out of dodge!

You really couldn’t help it though.

Even when he’d been no more than a stranger to you, you hadn’t been able to help the way you gravitated toward Changbin. Now that you knew he was your soulmate, your actions made a lot more sense to you.

You’d always been on the people pleasing side of helpful, but vouching for a complete stranger was new for you. Even now, you were obediently grabbing an item for him to deface with a signature you don’t even want (no matter how thoroughly Taylor would murder you if you’d passed it up) just because you could tell how uneasy Changbin was with just accepting the visitor pass.

It didn’t help that the man was endearing as hell. Every little thing he did seemed cute to you, and you’d barely known him for ten minutes!

You felt like this was a new low for you. Doing things you didn’t really want to, for a man. Taylor would be so disappointed in you.

Having stalled for maybe far too long, you settle on sacrificing the atrocious hat to Changbin’s pen and put your stuff away. Something heavy and squirmy settles in your chest as you make your way back out to retrieve your prize from the man of the hour.

Surprisingly, there’s no accidental meeting of hands when Changbin autographs your hat. He did give you a bit of a bemused look for the choice of item, but you’d just shrugged at him. It was all you were willing to sacrifice, and Taylor should be grateful for even this much, in your opinion.

Unsurprisingly, the lack of first contact does not ease your mind at all. In fact, it rockets up your anxiety another thousand notches. You can’t help checking over your shoulder at every opportunity, despite the fact that Changbin hadn’t left the weights area since he’d settled there and couldn't follow you through the door to the rest of the facility regardless.

Look, you know how the whole first contact thing worked, okay? Fate would put two soulmates in the same place for whatever stupid reason, and find an even stupider reason for them to make skin-to-skin contact. You’d experienced it twice now, and you couldn’t help but think going out of your way to avoid everything Changbin was wouldn’t help you very much.

Even still, you can’t stay paranoid and vigilant forever. When nothing happens while you finish your cardio, or when you work your way through both the pool and the sauna, you admittedly let down your guard a bit.

Maybe that’s why, after you’ve made your way back to the front room to try and finish your workout, when you’re mid-stretch and staring daggers at a weight machine you’re sure you’ll figure out how to use if you glare long enough, you jump about five miles out of your skin when you hear Changbin’s voice behind you.

Jumping from such a precarious position is never a good idea, and your sudden movement has set your head on a one-way collision course with the gym’s hardwood floors about it.

Hands fly around your middle, catching you awkwardly around your ribs. Unfortunately, all this noble attempt to catch you does is slow your descent, giving you just enough time to flinch violently enough to bring your arms up and prevent your head from meeting the ground and brace for impact.

The rest of you still hits the ground pretty hard, and Changbin’s knees and elbows meet a similar fate, his own head saved by headbutting your stomach, knocking the air out of you even harder than it already had been.

The two of you sit there a moment, groaning with the pain of your fall. At least you don’t have a concussion. You’ll take every small mercy with the way the universe has treated you lately.

Some part of you is cognizant enough to give the heavens a heartfelt thank you when you notice that none of your aches and pains are from your soulbond activating. Somehow, through that entire debacle, and even considering the amount of exposed skin between your t-shirt and his, you hadn’t managed to touch. You’re still safe.

As the shock starts to wear off, you start to become aware of the warmth of large hands still resting heavily against your sides, both soothing and wildly distracting. It’s like every fiber of your being is focused on where he’s touching you, warm and weighty. Changbin’s head still buried in your abdomen doesn’t help with the building fluster taking over your brain.

You swear one of his thumbs has landed squarely on one of the flower buds directly opposite Lee Know’s Bellflowers, and the tingly feeling of the bond weakly trying and failing to establish through the thin barrier of your shirt is not helping your mushy brain at all.

You tip your head back to stare at the ceiling, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent yourself from doing something stupid, like confessing all of your sins to Changbin right then and there.

Maybe you did have a concussion after all.

It’s probably been less than a minute since the two of you hit the floor, but it feels like ten hours have passed when Changbin finally lifts his head, wide eyes finding yours frantically.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” He asks, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, are you okay?” He uses his hold on you to gently lift you to a seated position, removing them in favor of hovering politely as he fusses. You don’t think he’s realized he’s reverted to his native Korean in his panic.

“I’m alright, I’m okay,” you assure him in the same language, “Just bruised a bit, I’m fine.”

He continues to fuss a bit more, running you through a quick series of concussion tests even after you tell him that you hadn’t hit your head at all. It’s only after he’s helping you to your feet, respectfully allowing you to use a clothed part of his arm to help yourself up, that he clocks the language the both of you are using.

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” He teases, “You speak Korean all of the sudden.”

You can’t help the little laugh that escapes you, nor can you help how his smug little smile makes your heart flutter. “I’ve spoken Korean the whole time.” You inform him.

“And you didn’t tell me? You just let me struggle?” The fondness in his smile assures you that he’s just joking, so you respond in kind.

“You were just trying so hard...” You shrug sheepishly and delight in the full body laugh that tears out of him. You wait for him to calm before you ask, “What did you need, by the way? I didn’t catch what you said before, well..” You gesture helplessly at the floor.

It’s his turn to look sheepish now, shoulders hiking up and a nervous hand making its way to his neck, “Ah, that.” he shrugs, “I was just saying that you had a pretty soulmark.”

The sudden compliment catches you off guard, and you suddenly become aware that your camisole has come loose from where it had been tucked into your sweats. Your hand flies up to cover the now-covered skin of your stomach, feeling sick.

You can’t remember when it happened, and the thought of however many strangers seeing your soulmark, no matter how little of it, sends a sharp note of dread through your body. You suddenly feel eyes digging into your skin, despite being covered again as soon as you’d stood up. You feel a bit sick, your skin crawling with discomfort.

You’re aware that your camisole would have ridden up to your lower back, at most, but there’s no telling how much of your mark anyone might have seen. What Changbin might have seen, what he may have noticed.

Changbin must notice your sudden pallid complexion, and continues on, trying to reassure you, probably. You barely hear him over the heartbeat in your ears, your trembling hands trying to discreetly tuck the undershirt back in while he speaks.

“I just meant that it’s very colorful and vibrant,” He explains, smile fading from his face as concern starts to cloud it at your reaction, “Whoever your soulmate is, they’re very lucky.”

“Ah, I don’t know them yet,” You counter. It’s even the truth. You hadn’t spoken much to any of your soulmates so far. Well, until now, you guess.

“Oh, well, I stand by what I said.” He asserts, his easy grin betrayed by the pinch between his brows, “Whoever your soulmate is will be very lucky to have you.”

“I don’t know about all that,” You tilt your head with self-deprecating consideration.

Maybe it’s a lingering guilt for how you’ve been handling your soulmates so far that makes you continue the thought, instead of laughing it off like the joke it should be. Maybe you just want him- want them- to know why you’ve been acting this way, “I don’t even know if I want to meet them, so I’m not sure how lucky they could be to have me as a soulmate.”

Changbin levels you with an absolutely baffled look, as if you’ve just challenged the very foundation of his worldview.

“Why not?” He asks, “Doesn’t everyone want to meet their soulmate?”

You wrap yourself in a loose hug, one hand rubbing soothingly at your elbow, and shrug, “I just... I haven’t had great experiences with soulmates, is all.” You can’t keep your eyes from straying to his soulmark, vibrant and full.

It’s an image that would be hard to elbow your way into, and you can’t imagine a way that the addition of you could possibly enhance it. It still feels unfinished to you, but it doesn’t look that way. You feel both better and worse about yourself, knowing that they didn’t need you.

A glance at Changbin’s utterly lost face has you opening your mouth before you can think about it, shoulders beginning to climb up to your ears.

“Not all soulmates get along, you know?” You mutter sullenly, almost to yourself.

Changbin seems to consider this for a moment, head tilting cutely to the side as he takes in your claim.

“I mean, sure.” He draws his words out slowly, carefully, with a little furrow between his brows. “Everyone fights sometimes, but you get through it together, right? That’s what makes you soulmates. Choosing to stick together.”

You couldn’t hold in the scoff and eye-roll combo that rips out of you if you’d tried. “Yeah, maybe.”

You’d feel bad about the venom in your voice, or the way it causes Changbin to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, but you can’t find it in yourself to care at the moment. Something sick and dark twists around your stomach, and the battle to keep a deep scowl from your face is the only one you’re willing to fight right now.

“I have a feeling that was the wrong thing to say,” Changbin smiles wanly at you, and you meet his eyes for barely a second before you find yourself melting beneath his earnest gaze. The thorns around your heart ease just enough to bleed, and you shrug at him again.

“When people stay together just because they’re soulmates it only makes things worse.” you tell him, “Nothing gets magically fixed just because you’re soulmates.”

Surprisingly, Changbin agrees easily, “Well, yeah, that’s not the kind of sticking together I’m talking about,” He explains, “I meant more, like,” He gestures as he tries to find his words, and your heart positively aches as you realize the habit transcends languages.

You find yourself softening more and relaxing out of your defensive curl out of sheer endearment. You’re sure you’d be making absolute heart-eyes at Changbin right now if the topic at hand wasn’t so deeply uncomfortable for you.

“Ok, let me try an example,” He eventually decides, his eyes following your gaze where it had once again returned to his soulmark without your permission. He flexes a bit, making the flowers on his skin bounce and dance with a small, fond, smile. “I’m soulmates with the other members, right?”

He says it easily, casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You almost nod along, before you remember that the world at large definitely does not have that information, even if you do, and you meet his smug little smirk with wide-eyed shock.

You can’t help but gape at him for the casual confession, glancing around the empty gym like someone else might’ve heard Changbin’s brazen confession. He’s already waving you off before you can sputter out the questions stuck in your throat.

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it. It’s not like we try very hard to hide it.” He does a weird little half-nod-half-shrug motion at his soulmark, “But yeah, we’re all soulmates, and we all pretty much knew before debut, even though Innie’s mark hadn’t shown up yet.”

You do nod this time. Slowly, though, as you try to figure out where he’s going with this. Changbin takes it as permission to continue, and so he does.

“Well, Jeongin’s our baby, and even though marks show up at 18, you’re not an adult in Korea until 19, so there’s a lot we had to leave him out on.” He grimaces a little, “Being an Idol is stressful as it is, throwing a new soul bond and puberty and all that on top wasn’t very helpful. We were all volatile and fragile. But Innie definitely took it the worst. He felt left behind and unfair and angry with it all.”

He chuckles and gives a little shrug, “We had our share of knock-down, drag-outs.” He admits sheepishly, “It wasn’t an easy time for us.” He rolls his head toward the ceiling and, despite Changbin’s efforts, you can easily spot the smitten look on his face along with his cherry-red ears.

“But we made it through,” He says softly, “We took the time to dig into all of his insecurities and find what we could do to help him. He made the choice to be vulnerable and honest with us. It took time to get here, but we made it through.”

Changbin meets your eyes again, “That’s what I mean when I say soulmates are about choosing to stick together. You work through the hard times and disagreements together, work toward something better. Soulmates are destiny, but love is choice.”

You let his words rattle around your brain as you get lost in his earnest gaze. Let the idea settle into you like something entirely new, like it wasn’t your understanding of healthy relationships beforehand. Of course that’s the ideal, you know that. No one is perfect and all that, everyone disagrees sometimes. It’s discussing it and finding solutions together that makes a partnership work long-term. You know that.

For the first time, you wonder if you’d just always considered soulmates an exception to the rule.

You’d automatically assigned soulmates as a concept a failing grade at working their problems through. Your parents certainly never worked out their issues, and every soulmate you’d ever seen in the media was an automatic happy-ending. As soon as that bond snaps into place, the story’s over. Happily ever after.

You’d always thought ‘ever after’ must be an awful short time.

‘Love is choice’ echoes through you like something divine.

You break Changbin’s gaze and offer him a half-hearted shrug. “I guess.” you concede, “My soulmates probably have a lot of work cut out for them with me, though. So I still don’t know if they’d want me.”

“I think it’d be worth the work,” Changbin smiles gently at you, “To be your soulmate, I mean.”

You feel heat rush up your neck and bless your genetics for keeping it from showing on your cheeks. You disguise your bashfulness by lightly slapping Changbin’s shoulder (and woah is he solid under your hand when you do) and loudly complain about him being a flirt.

He responds by doing his best to fluster you, clearly enjoying putting those fanservice skills to use. You complain with every flex and smoulder, especially when he starts unleashing the aegyo, and the two of you let the banter and laughter chase away the somber mood.

Eventually you settle, and Changbin nods at the very intimidating machine you’d been staring at what felt like a lifetime ago now.

“Did you need a spotter?” He offers. You hem and haw for a moment, before sheepishly admitting that you need a teacher more than a spotter. When he lights up and offers to be that, too, you can’t help the way your eyes travel up and down his body with open admiration.

He certainly looks plenty qualified, and really, you’re only a girl. If your once-over leaves him with red ears and a smug grin, well. You’ll consider it your revenge for now.

You very quickly realize your mistake in letting him coach you.

Changbin tours you quickly around various machines, explaining their functions and the proper ways to use them to avoid injury. All well and good, and you ask permission to record short videos of him doing so in case you find yourself forgetting his advice, which he graciously allows on the condition you don’t share them anywhere.

You agree after negotiating for viewing rights for Taylor, with the reasoning that the lure of the videos might actually get your roommate back into the gym with you. It makes Changbin laugh enough to indulge you.

And then he actually starts you on a machine, after getting a rundown on what you’d already done today, and you experience hell on earth.

The thing is, he’s unfairly good at coaching you through it. He keeps up a steady stream of warm encouragement and light jokes even as you curse him out for steadily increasing the weights on each machine you work through. He’s right there to help you through the sets the moment you start to get too tired and is almost preternaturally good at pushing you to only just above your limits.

And his hands are always right there. He’s almost always touching you somehow, throughout the whole thing. His touch is light, coaching and clinical, and unfailingly polite. Still, the warmth of his skin through your flimsy gym-wear feels heavy. Nearly threatening. Distracting, at the very least.

You’ll definitely need those videos later.

It’s a relief when it’s over. You’re sore and sweaty and you have to go sit at a desk for six or more hours when you leave, which you’re very much not looking forward to.

Changbin splits with you to hit the showers, but somehow you still come together again before you pass reception.

“Thanks for today,” you say as the two of you stall your goodbyes, “I had a lot of fun. You’ve more than earned that guest pass.” you tease, smile wide and mischievous.

He’s smiling too, even as he shoves your shoulder and complains about you extorting him.

When you run out of things to say, you shuffle lightly in place. It’s not like you expect him to give you his number, he is an Idol after all, but still you can’t quite make yourself leave. You find yourself casting around for something, anything, to say to make the moment last. To stay in his presence just a second longer.

You shake yourself out of it once you notice. You might not be running from them anymore, but you certainly weren’t trying to make friends with your soulmates. The longer you stayed in his presence, the more likely it was that you’d end up with another first contact.

At last, after a far-too-long moment of silence, you hold out your hand and offer a flat, closed-lip smile.

“It was really nice to meet you, Changbin.” You tell him sincerely, eyes locked on his. You swear looking your soulmates in the eye is some kind of hypnosis, the way you always get lost in them when you do. Something about it just makes you feel a tiny bit dumb, like your brain gets switched off.

“You too, y/n.” He agrees, reaching for your offered hand. You only realize what you’ve just done as your name leaves his lips, your eyes widening as they dart down to his hand and yours, but it’s far too late.

Your breath hitches a moment before his skin makes contact with yours, and you watch it happen in slow motion. He grasps your hand and pulls you in instead of settling for the more distant and formal farewell. All too quickly you’re settled into his grasp, completely enveloped in him and dizzy with more than just his warmth as soft prickles dance up your side.

You feel more than you hear him gasp, his hold on you so complete. Your head ends up on his shoulder as you stumble into him from his pull, and you get a front row seat to the top of his shoulder filling in with outlines and shadows from your place tucked against his neck, dull colors adding a definition to the images in his soulmark and settling like they’d always been there.

Distantly, you feel chest tighten with completion, with satisfaction and something smug and proud at the sight, even as your mind starts screaming.

Changbin is solid against you, comforting and almost stiflingly warm from both his workout and shower. You catch a whiff of his soap, the scent muting the alarm bells blaring in your brain even as you lay limp against him with the shock.

And then his hold on you tightens just a bit, only for a moment, but it’s all that it takes for you to break.

Your breath begins to hitch, visions of sweet touches turning sour and threatening violence causing you to flinch violently in Changbin’s comforting embrace. You feel your eyes begin to wet as you start to struggle, needing out, out, out.

It must have been less than a second, but Changbin pulls back, still holding you by your shoulders like he doesn’t know how to let go.

“Y/n?” He asks, voice small. You can only shake your head, breaths coming out in harsh gasps, limbs trembling violently. Changbin hurriedly lowers the two of you to the floor, much more prepared than you are for your limbs to give out halfway down.

He finally releases you as you settle and you curl tightly into yourself. The places where he’d held you feel frozen now, the cold viciously settling into your bones, even as Changbin does his best to get your attention and guide you through a breathing exercise.

You can’t focus on him though, the sensation of flowers blooming on your skin overwhelming, the memory of his touch both welcome and suffocating.

“S- ‘orry, I’m-” You hiccup, “I’m so- so s’rry-” If Changbin is at all put off by your sudden breakdown, he doesn’t show it. He just tilts his head and offers you hushed words of assurance.

“Nothing to be sorry for, y/n,” he assures, “It’s alright, just breathe, ok?”

He offers you a hand and you can’t help but take it, the warmth startling a breath into you that you hadn’t been aware you needed. Changbin guides your hand to his chest, instructing you to breathe with him, and you automatically focus on the heavy thump of his heartbeat under your palm.

He keeps talking to you, trying to keep your attention, but your mind spins wildly away from you even as you finally manage a deep inhale under Changbin’s attention.

You need to tell him that you’d known since he’d first spoken to you who he was. Who he was to you, even, but you can’t open your mouth to do more than gasp another apology. You’re sure he’ll hate you, leave you there on the floor of the gym to die like you deserve, especially after all you’d told him about how you feel about soulmates.

He’ll hate you for putting his soulmates through rejection, for refusing to speak to them or even look them in the eye. He’ll leave you here, humiliated on the gym’s floor, and you’ll deserve it because you’re a horrible person who wouldn’t even give them a breadth of a chance because you were too damn scared-

A hand grasps your spare one, the one not touching him, not keeping you just barely above the waves of hyperventilating, and you hadn’t even noticed it scrabbling at the stretched out neckline of your t-shirt until it’s gently pried away and guided to a wall of firm muscle.

Your fingers instinctively grasp what’s suddenly underneath them, and your vision stutters back in as a soft tingling rockets its way up your arm.

You distantly acknowledge that it was probably a bad thing that your vision had faded off with your eyes stuck wide open, staring blankly at legs you couldn’t feel. Right now, however, all you can experience is Changbin. His mark under your fingers, grip clawing and desperate. His heartbeat under your palm, faster than it should be, but steady and loud and feeling like it’s part of your own body.

Like he knows he has your attention again, Changbin ducks down to catch your eyes. You find nothing in them but concern and a soft emotion you couldn’t hope to pinpoint.

“Y/n,” He calls softly, “Y/n, do you mind if I touch you?” The gentleness he speaks to you with is devastating, like he’s trying to place your panicked mind on a cloud of care. You want so desperately to accept that care from him.

You nod, small jerky movements to indicate your agreement even as gasping sobs still stutter in your chest.

Changbin immediately moves, shuffling closer to you on his knees and releasing the wrist of your hand, the one still grasping at his mark like it’d disappear if you relaxed so much as a millimeter. He uncrosses his arms from the awkward reach he’d had to use to maneuver your hands where he wanted them, and reaches his now free hand to rest gently but firmly on your waist, right over his place within your own mark.

The resonance from his touch is weaker, the material of your shirt in his way, but with both sides active the feeling floods you in a way you could never describe.

You know, in the back of your mind, that you’ve read about resonance before. That you know all about the flood of endorphins and other feel-good hormones that it causes, that you’ve read first hand accounts from all sorts of people swearing up and down it feels better than any orgasm ever could. In the moment though, you feel like your brain has been reset completely. Back to factory settings, entirely blank.

You come back to yourself in slow blinks, resonance still echoing brightly between you and Changbin. Your one hand is still tightly clasped to his chest, and you’re sure you’re only breathing right now due to the steady rise and fall of Changbin’s chest. The two of you are still gripping each other’s marks.

You feel unsettled as awareness returns to your body. You feel floaty and not all there, even as you calm enough to feel the numbness of your legs and the pain in your knees from hitting the floor. An increasingly familiar tingling feeling is emanating from each of your active soulmarks, despite the fact that you know the other two should have no idea how you’re feeling right now.

Your bond wasn’t strong enough for that. You hadn’t given it the chance to be.

The thought that they might just be thinking of you gives you a soft and fluttery sort of feeling.

Finally, Changbin pulls back, removing his hand from your mark and sliding up your arm to gently pry yours from his bicep. You’d wince at the marks your nails had left on his skin if you didn’t still feel like your bones were vibrating on the astral plane from the intensity of a reciprocal resonance.

He gently holds both of your hands in his and settles them between you, catching your eye again.

“You back with me, bubs?” He asks, smile light and tone even. You’d think him unaffected if not for the redness of his ears and the slight haze in his eyes.

Right. Eight soulmates. He’s probably used to it.

He’s also trying to get you down from a panic attack, you remember as your hands begin to faintly tremble in his grip. You nod slightly at his question, apologizing again.

“Hey, no.” Changbin scolds softly, eyes locked on yours, “You’ve nothing to be sorry for, it’s okay. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

You shake your head in refusal of both ideas, opening your mouth once, twice, three times, before huffing irritatedly at the lack of words falling from your lips. Changbin squeezes your hands to keep your attention on him, expression open and accepting. His silence allows yours to end.

“I just- It’s just that I-” You breathe harshly through your nose, squeezing his hands back to ground yourself, “I knew from when I realized who you were that you were my soulmate.” you grind out in halting words, the trembling spreading from your hands up to your chest. You take in a shuddering breath, “That’s why I was apologizing. Because I knew and I still said those things to you.”

You can tell your confession takes Changbin off guard. The man blinks rapidly as he takes in the new information, slotting your earlier behavior against your reaction just now and having trouble connecting them.

“Soulmates terrify me,” you confess quietly, before he can ask, “You’re so nice, but you’re so fucking scary to me, I’m sorry.”

With that, you remove your hands from his, and Changbin just sort of helplessly lets you go, a lost expression taking over his face. You try to stumble to your feet, and he scrambles up to help you, caring even through his confusion.

You can feel the trembling travel to your legs, and you’re glad for his steady hold despite yourself. You feel like a stiff breeze might knock you over.

“I need- I- I’ve gotta- argh!” You clench your teeth with frustration, taking a deep, bracing, breath, before trying again. “I need to go home.” You’d like to say it came out strong and self-assured, but the words leave you in a breathless whimper that makes you feel small and pathetic.

Everything about this makes you feel small and pathetic.

Changbin catches your eyes again, brows creased in concern.

Except for him.

“Of course, whatever you need,” He assures, “Can I call a car for you? A friend? Your roommate?”

You shake your head, hopelessly endeared by his need to help you. You feel guilty for refusing him when he’d just pivoted from the bombshell you’d dropped on him to focus on your care but you- you needed to go home. You needed to leave, and it was taking every ounce of effort you could spare to keep from bolting.

“No, I can- I’ve got- I want- shit.” The curse spills from you unbidden, frustration with the vestiges of your panic refusing to leave you building sharply. If anything, Changbin’s concern only grows deeper as you struggle to express yourself.

“I need to move, I’ll walk.” Your mouth finally allows you to spit out, almost aggressively. Changbin almost seems to despair at your declaration.

Looking at your own condition, you can’t blame him. Trembling like a leaf and barely able to speak, you’d never let yourself leave if you’d been in his place. You can’t spare the energy to explain that if anyone tried anything at you in this condition you’d probably try to kill them first and ask questions later.

You don’t handle stress well.

Still, despite his obvious reluctance, Changbin lets you leave his embrace.

You’re more stable on your feet now, and a deep breath fills you with a facade of confidence that will see you home. Changbin’s hands still hover around you, as if waiting for you to shatter apart again.

“If you need anything, please call me, okay? Anything at all, please call me.” He pleads with you. You only manage to give him another tiny nod before you dip into a full bow and turn to flee.

Changbin watches you go with a face full of concern and confusion.

‘I think it’d be worth the work, to be your soulmate’ he’d said. You can’t help but wonder, as the gym disappears behind you, if he still thinks that.

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[misctf]

No Nut November

For Tommy and his friends, No Nut November had become a yearly tradition. While he didn’t necessarily look forward to it, the blonde always seemed to win- often being able to outlast his buddies. And while this year had certainly been close, it looked like Tommy was going to take to take home the bragging rights. Sure, his dick ached with need and he had been neglecting it for the past couple of weeks. And while his boyfriend often made fun of him for engaging in such a “stupid contest”, Tommy was more of a strict bottom anyway and got plenty of his needs met that way.

“Congrats on your victory babe.” His boyfriend had texted him, “I have a surprise for you when I get home.” The winky face at the end of the message told Tommy everything he needed to know- and he was definitely looking forward to whatever activities his boyfriend had planned.

But as Tommy continued to go about his daily activities, still ignoring the ache in his dick, a new feeling settled in his stomach. He rubbed his sore abs and took a few deep breaths as he felt an odd cramping sensation welling up from deep within him. He assumed it must’ve been something he ate and walked to the bathroom. But the discomfort didn’t seem to stop- only getting worse as his body temperature rose. He quickly removed his clothing, the cool air of the room feeling nice on his warm skin, while a cool draft caused his cock to stir with pleasure and pain. Tommy nearly doubled over at the feeling in his aching member- staring at it as it grew. He touched it gently and immediately fell to his back from the intensity of the pleasure.

“Wh-what the fuck.” He breathed out, lying on the ground, his eyes unfocused from the waves of pleasure and pain that coursed throughout his lean body.

And like a sudden compulsion, he felt his arms forced to extend above his head, an aching sensation emanating throughout them. He watched as his arms started to fill with muscle, while his hands started to shift and change- becoming wider while his fingers shortened and became stubbier.

“Fuck yeah, finally!” Another voice called out softly, so softly that Tommy barely heard it.

“Who’s there?” Tommy replied, fear taking hold of his mind.

But before he could register anything else, he felt another creaking and cracking of his muscles. This time, he watched as his pecs appeared to sink into themselves, his nipples disappearing, while a small hole formed in the center of what used to be his chest. At the same time, it appeared as though his legs were also beginning to shift. His feet were taking on the appearance of hands, while his leg muscles shifted, taking on an appearance similar to incredibly muscular arms. Tommy looked down at what used to be his arms and his eyes widened as he realized his hands were now two large and calloused feet, tufts of hair on the surface of them. And as his arms packed on more and more muscle, he felt his head being squeezed on either side.

“Ah this feels so good.” The voice was less soft, louder and more present.

Tommy let out a surprised yelp as he felt his body push itself up until the blonde found himself doing what felt like a handstand. And that’s when it dawned on Tommy. His arms were now a pair of muscular and powerful legs, ending with large manly feet. He tried to crane his neck to look up but barely could.

“Ha-ha broooo.” The voice called out, “Fuckin’ look at me.” It said in its deep baritone voice. The same stupid voice that Tommy associated with frat bros.

“St-stop...pl-please.” Tommy called out, his own voice becoming softer. He noticed he was having a harder time moving his mouth to form words.

But he was ignored and suddenly found himself swinging from side to side as his body began to move on its own. He could do nothing as he continued to feel himself change further. First, he felt as though he was no longer able to move his neck and he watched as he blond locks fell from his head. And then for a split second, the world went dark before his field of vision returned, albeit somewhat limited. The same with his hearing. The muscular legs on either side of him became coated in hairs. As he tried to call out again, Tommy felt what he initially thought was phlegm rise from the back of his throat. The liquid was salty and seemed to dribble from his mouth, causing him to want to gag, but he found himself unable to. None of this made sense, and he was trying to get a better glimpse of himself. All he could make out was what looked like a hairy muscular abdomen above him, and two thick hairy thighs on either side of him. Questions filled his mind as he tried to understand his situation. But before he could think more on it, he heard a dumb chuckle and suddenly, Tommy felt as though his face was being stretched- another aching sensation coursing through his head and neck.  

“Ya know you’ve neglected me for a long time.” The booming voice said. Tommy wanted to yelp as he felt a hand wrap around him, “But I’m not gonna do that to you bro.” Tommy barely had any idea what the voice was saying, “Huh, that’s right. This might be a bit confusing for ya brah. Here have a look.”

If Tommy could, he would’ve screamed. In the mirror was one of the largest, hairiest men that he had ever seen. The guy looked like he played football, the pinnacle of masculinity with a stupid dopey grin on his chiseled face. But that was less shocking compared to what Tommy soon came to realize. The man was holding his fat, enlarged member, which is when Tommy was able to put it all together.

“That’s right bro, you ignored me for so long, I just had to take control.” The jock laughed, “And well that means we had to switch places.”

Tommy felt a sense of dread well up from deep within him. This couldn’t be happening- he was a human! Not a cock. This wasn’t possible. As his mind bounced around trying to rationalize his way through this, the jock smiled.

“Well aren’t you eager.” He chuckled in his dim voice, scratching at his hairy pec, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

And that’s when Tommy felt it. The hand around his cylindrical body began to pump up and down, faster and faster. His thoughts became harder to focus on as pleasure coursed throughout his body- the calloused hand that played with him igniting wave after wave of pleasure. He felt himself twitch, his hard cylindrical body throbbing in anticipation. The jock smirked and quickened his pace.

“Yeah, you like that, huh? Think you could just ignore me?” He moaned out, his pace quickening, “Never again bro. Turned you into my needy cock. Showing you what a real man looks like.” Tommy could barely register any of the words, the liquid in the back of his throat rising faster and faster, “Fuck dude!” The jock moaned out as he finally came, sending wave after wave of cum from Tommy’s new mouth.

Tommy could barely process the level of pleasure that rocketed through his new body. His mind was nearly shattered as his cylindrical body softened and dangled limply between the jock’s legs. But as Tommy was winding down from the pleasure, he felt something cover his entire body, throwing his world into darkness. The jock smirked and posed in the mirror, showing off his bulge and ass, which were covered in black compression underwear. There was another dumb chuckle, and Tommy twitched in pleasure as the jock grabbed him through his underwear.

“Welcome to your new home, bro.” The jock chuckled, “Now let’s go find that boyfriend of yours. If I had to guess, that ass of his was also feeling pretty neglected. Someone ought to help him out, don’t you think?” And Tommy felt his new body quickly expanding, pressed up tightly against the confines of the new jock’s underwear.