#selfish sleepers

[merryfortune]

Selfish Sleepers

Written for FE Flash Fic Friday on Dreamwidth

Prompt: WLW Rare Pairs

Title: Selfish Sleepers

Ship: Nerþuz/Sharena

Fandom: Fire Emblem Heroes

Word Count: 1,381

Rating: T

Tags: Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, Cuddling & Snuggling, Humour, Sexual References

   The Inn’s dormitories were filled to the brim with every amenity a hero could need but there was always someone who was needier than most, believe me, Sharena could tell you a thing or two about that.

   Just like the family of three bears from that one fairy tale, everyone had different needs that needed to be accounted for and catered to. Soft pillows, hard pillows, fluffy beds, firm beds. Some liked privacy, some liked total darkness. Others needed a little bit of background noise and others liked some company. Variety was the spice of life and to keep Heroes in tip-top shape, the Order of Heroes did their best to provide so that the Heroes would be regularly well-rested and happy to provide their services.

   But some… some Heroes like to push the envelope. 

   Charlotte, hailing from Nohr, came to mind. She needed her beauty sleep, after all. She was very stringent about her routine of facial masks and other implements of skincare. She had big dreams and she was not content to let them be figments of her sleep.

   Hilda from the Officer’s Academy in Fódland was another example, too. She was very much the five more minutes type in the morning, very slow to start anything. Getting her up and dressed could be quite time consuming, no wonder Professor Byleth had whole systems of getting her ready for school.

   Then there was Nephenee, who belonged to the Greil Mercenaries, was the complete opposite. Too often she could be found asleep in a haystack or anywhere else, trying not to infringe on anyone or cause inconvenience by being selfish. Telling her she deserved just as much luxury as anyone else was like trying to convince a brick wall of a cause! 

   But none of those aforementioned Heroes had anything on Nerþuz!

   Oh gee��

   If it wasn’t one thing with her, it was another. She was a Goddess, after all. She wasn’t used to hearing the word no… But Sharena really wished that she was. She also seemed to operate in a completely different reality to most other folk which otherwise would have been chalked up to her holy origins but there were plenty of other divine and ethereal Heroes who were not as needy as her.

   “My pillows need fluffing!”

   That was a common complaint and with horns like hers, Sharena was sympathetic. It must be hard having to lug around such equipment, they were always ruining pillows, too. 

   “I can’t sleep without a lullaby…”

   That wasn’t too uncommon of Nerþuz to demand. She and her silly shows and whimsical skits, Nerþuz adored to have some entertainment. Sharena cringed in embarrassment to remember how she had to ask the Land Mother of her aid. At least she was easily amused and it seemed like it came from a good place…? Honestly Sharena had no idea but a few bars of a nursery rhyme and Nerþuz would typically plonk out asleep.

   But now Nerþuz had a new one… Something she hadn’t asked for before…

   “Sharena, my dear, I need a friend to sleep with.” Nerþuz pined. “I need something small and soft to cuddle and share in my dreams with…” Her tone of voice was sing-song.

   “Well, we have a fine selection of stuffed toys, you know.” Sharena chirped. “There’s Mr. Bear the Teddy Bear, or Henry the Horse or-”

   “Oh, sweetie, I don’t want a play-pretend friend,” Nerþuz batted her eyelashes at her, “I want you.” Her expression was all too come hither in the dim.

   “Wh-Huh?” Sharena blushed.

   Nerþuz swept her up into an embrace and Sharena’s face was forcibly nuzzled against Nerþuz’s velvet soft chest. Nerþuz hugged her tightly, much the same way as a child would hug her favourite stuffed toy, all but smothering Sharena with affection as she was stunned by it all. 

   “Pwease…” Nerþuz begged. 

   Nerþuz towered over Sharena and held her in a deep embrace, forcing her as close as close could be and Sharena was too useless to struggle as she was drawn into Nerþuz’s atmosphere. She inhaled deep Nerþuz’s unearthly scent and her mind began to whirl. Her perfume was sweet and heavenly, it made Sharena’s mouth water as it warmed her with… all sorts of lewd and lurid thoughts as Nerþuz waited on Sharena’s answer.

   One she wasn’t going to get any time soon the more Sharena dithered with her reveries quickly unravelling. Don’t have dirty thoughts about a Goddess, don’t have dirty thoughts about a Goddess! Sharena begged herself but she found the contact of her face to Nerþuz’s breast all too intoxicating. Focus on her negatives, Sharena told herself.

   Nerþuz was so childish and immature! She was as old as time and this was how she behaved?! Sharena, a mere nineteen year-old mortal, could hardly believe it but her lips went fuzzy. She could feel the blooms of red pulsate in her cheeks. Sharena was unable to deny Nerþuz this request, too. Just like all her previous ones. 

   Oh, curse her hospitable and generous nature! Sharena swallowed her pride once more.

   “O-Of course, anything for you, Lady Nerþuz.” Sharena replied, stilted and saccharine.

   “Aww, and that’s why you're my favourite child of Midgard.” Nerþuz celebrated.

   She dragged Sharena to bed and that was that - and made the middle spoon, no less. Nerþuz fell asleep as soon as her head hit her pillow which yes, was sufficiently fluffed by Sharena beforehand and made from goose feather down. Nerþuz’s breath whistled as she curled around Sharena and Sharena was held tight under Nerþuz’s elegant arms and the doona covers of the bed. 

   (Sharena could only hope that they got plenty of R&R Affinity from this, gee whiz.)

   But it wasn’t… uncomfortable to be Nerþuz’s living plushie, Sharena found as she fell asleep. If a little uneasily. Nerþuz was actually quite cute when she slept, from what Sharena could gather whenever she glanced over her shoulder. And thanks to all the - often thankless - prep that she did for the dormitories, with the help of the maids, the bed was pretty comfortable, too. 

  It was nice and warm. Or, more accurately, Nerþuz made it nice and warm. Her voluptuous figure generated a lot of heat which she was more than happy to share. So, Sharena drifted off herself and had a pretty good dream about warm, spring skies and gardens filled with endless flowers explored by bunny rabbits. 

   If only it could have lasted forever but all good things must end. Especially when out in the real world, it was just as lovely. The sunshine which came through the curtained window was yellow and charming, a whole day of training and studying was ahead of them and sounded quite energising to Sharena.

    Nerþuz still held onto her, her face buried into her back. Her hands were knotted in front of Sharena’s belly, keeping her close but Sharena began to wriggle about.

   “C’mon Lady Nerþuz,” Sharena whispered, “wake up…” 

   “Nooo… five more minutes.” Nerþuz pouted. “You're my toy, I decide when we get up.”

   “Aww but we need to get the day started.” Sharena insisted, still squirming despite how Nerþuz snuggled into her in protest.

   “Noooooo.” Nerþuz continued to whine.

   Nerþuz pulled herself up and on top of Sharena. She was… very heavy, Sharena realised. Of course she was, she was a deity with another form as an enormous and domineering goat but even still. This was a shocking realisation to Sharena as she was pressed into the bed.

   “Let’s stay in bed a little longer, please, my darling…?” Nerþuz implored Sharena.

   Her voice had dropped several octaves and had taken on a much sharper quality. There was practically a smirk in her voice, Sharena was too submissive to check as Nerþuz toyed with her. Their lower bodies were hidden by the covers of their bedding and for that, Sharena was glad as they were also aligned underneath the soft concealment of the doona. 

   “S-Sounds good, my lady.” Sharena’s voice cracked as she blushed.

   Nerþuz leaned in and slotted her head between Sharena’s neck and shoulders. The closeness made the light peach fuzz on the sides of Sharena’s face stand on end. Nerþuz nuzzled her and kissed her cheek sleepily, her intentions still obscured by her selfish eccentricity - to Sharena at least.

[reaperkaneki]

I know I just woke up but boy some people feel very entitled to some anonymous opinions this morning

truly. even if it’s coming from a good place, it’s like, i did not fucking ask and you don’t know me like that.

[pomefioredove]

only one bed room

summary: it's the sdc and everyone's staying over at ramshackle but, oh no! you're one room and one bed short. being the generous (or gullible) soul that you are, you agree to share characters: all sdc competitors, separate additional info: fair warning I have no replayed book 5 in a while, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, most scenarios end in cuddles. can be interpreted as romantic or platonic (nix vil and rook's part)

Deuce Spade

"I don't mind sleeping on the floor!"

it's a big fat no from Vil. waking up sore and tired is unacceptable, and will affect his performance during practice. he will use the bed, end of story.

you offer to take the floor or one of the many stiff and uncomfortable couches in Ramshackle, but he refuses

what kind of aspiring honor student would he be if he kicked you out of your own room?

so, yes, you end up sharing the bed

he's a perfect gentleman about it

he insists on sleeping on the complete opposite end of the bed

to give you your space, of course

not because he's nervous

obviously it doesn't pan out- he's kind of a messy sleeper, and on the first night you wake up with him sprawled on top of you

you decide not to wake him up

you'd been thinking about saving for a weighted blanket, anyway

Ace Trappola

"you better not hog the blankets,"

takes it like a champ, though he might be screaming internally

he already sleeps in a dorm with three other guys- this can't be any different, right?

it totally is

sharing a bed with someone? someone he likes, who he isn't just forced to live with for convenience?

he's not sure how to tease you about this one without coming off as nervous himself

so he just shuts his trap about it (for once) and accepts his fate

in the end, it's no big deal for a player like him

he ends up hogging the blankets, though. hypocrite.

Kalim al-Asim

"YAYYY SLEEPOVER!"

he means exactly what he says

not a care in the world

all he's thinking about is how fun this is going to be! just him and his favorite Ramshackle prefect (Grim heard the news and will be staying in deuce's room to avoid any cracker mishaps)

Kalim, admittedly, is not a creature of great thought. he tends to be dictated by his feelings, and he can be a little selfish sometimes

so when Jamil pulled him aside and asked him to just buy another bed for ramshackle, he ignored him entirely

why would he do that? the situation is resolved, and everyone's happy!

well... not everyone, but Kalim's happy!

he stocks up on Vil-approved snacks, insists you two braid each other's hair and stay up late into the night talking with no one to remind you to go to sleep

(he tried to invite Jamil and got the door slammed in his face)

this arrangement lasts approximately one night

when Vil sees the dark circles under your eyes, it's over

you are confined to the couch, and Kalim is forced to sleep alone

Jamil Viper

"okay,"

really. he's totally fine with it.

besides the fact that he doesn't want to cause any more trouble, he's shared beds with his siblings before. no big deal

he just wasn't expecting to wake up with you snuggled against him

but this is fine

totally fine

he's barely conscious and it's early morning, still dark, the time he's used to getting up at

Vil has things covered, right? he can stay here for a little while longer. it would be awkward trying to get up without waking you

it feels nice having something all to himself for once

he smirks, imagining how jealous everyone else would be:

the beautiful, kind, intelligent ramshackle prefect in his arms? oh, the looks on their faces would almost make this whole thing worth it!

but in the end, he decides to say nothing

he wants to keep you all to himself, after all

for just a little while longer

Epel Felmier

"ain't no way I'm sharing!"

that's what he says in his head, anyway. but it's late and he's worn out from practice (and being shouted at) so he just sighs and accepts his fate

of course Vil would make him do it. it's probably because he's the smallest, isn't it?

you can tell he's unhappy with the arrangement (not that he's making much of a secret of it- he's grumbling under his breath all evening)

he starts coming around to the idea when he wakes up holding something warm

his heart jumpstarts and he nearly panics before remembering where he is

and then he realizes the thing he's holding is... you. somehow the two of you had ended up spooning during the night

but, more importantly... he's the big spoon!

he's almost tempted to wake you to announce that he, in all his manly glory, had naturally assumed the most masculine cuddling position!

(yes he sounds ridiculous. just let him have this one)

he lets you sleep, though. just a little more won't hurt anyone, right?

he's okay with the arrangement after that

Rook Hunt

"I will do it!"

Vil isn't even able to finish his sentence before the vice housewarden is practically jumping up and down

pretty much everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief; a volunteer! thank the sevens. otherwise, this could get awkward...

of course, he quite intentionally ends up with you in his arms

but not for any nefarious purpose, he insists!

he's a light sleeper, and can be stirred by any sudden noise or movement

you appeared to be having some kind of nightmare

it reminds him of a small animal caught in a trap, struggling for its life. he can't bear to see it- it's cruel to let a poor creature go on suffering before you can make the kill

of course, instead of killing you (thank the sevens), he decides to comfort you

he presses your head against his chest so you can hear his heartbeat, and he runs his fingers through your hair until you calm down.

then he keeps you there, just to be sure you don't have another bad dream

if you gave him permission, he would gladly be all over you in seconds. kissing up and down your shoulders, caressing every perfect inch of your body, whispering words of admiration

but he's perfectly content just cradling you for now

hopefully, you will continue to have these nightmares and give him excuses to do this again

Vil Schoenheit

"don't argue with me,"

initially, you just gave him the bed

maybe you were afraid of him; maybe you like him; maybe you just wanted to avoid a conflict altogether

either way, you spent the first night on the terribly uncomfortable floor, and trudged through Ramshackle like a zombie the next morning

Vil was feeling guilty watching you

what? he's not a monster

and he's a leader, which means he has a responsibility. and you had so graciously invited them all into your home...

fine! he'll share. he insists, even

when you try to argue, he shuts you down, repeating all that stuff about responsibility and hospitality, blah blah

and he doesn't want the team manager dead on their feet

arguing with him is pointless, so you just agree

he wakes up with you against him, sleeping peacefully

now, if it were you clinging to him- he might have had a good chuckle. can't keep your hands to yourself, prefect? I'm just that irresistible?

but the way he's holding you, the way his arms are so tightly wrapped around your waist, the way he's so clearly pressing you against him...

he hates to admit it, but you're an elegant sleeper. it's almost cute

the tension is relieved from your face, your breathing graceful and steady, and your perfect lips open just a sliver...

he is a perfect gentleman, and would never dream of doing anything without your explicit permission, but for one shameful second he thinks about how easy it would be to kiss you

... and then he quickly puts those thoughts aside and tries to get back to sleep

he doesn't want any dark circles, after all

[moonstruckme]

could i request poly!marauders with reader who has trouble sleeping/insomnia pls? it’s so frustrating not being able to sleep and seeing everyone sleeping and then having a raging head and being exhausted throughout the days,,, just want someone to make the nights a little less stressful :((

Sorry for the long wait sweetness! Thanks for requesting

modern au

poly!marauderes x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You want desperately to know what time it is. With the blackout curtains covering the windows and the digital clock stowed away in the drawer of the nightstand, it’s impossible to guess whether the sun is rising outside or if it’s only an hour past when you went to bed. You honestly have no idea. It feels like you’ve been lying here for an eternity, willing yourself to relax, but in your experience it’s equally likely that ten minutes have gone by. 

It’s that much worse with your boyfriends snoozing all around you. You envy Sirius’ open-mouthed snore. You feel trapped. You want to be sleeping with them but you can’t, so you want them to be awake with you, but waking them would be cruel. When you’d first gone to bed James had held you up against him, but it hadn’t taken long after he’d fallen asleep for him to roll over, unconsciously abandoning you between his and Remus’ backsides. Remus is a light enough sleeper that you know he’ll wake if you try to get out of bed, so you’re stuck here, staring into the formless black of your room, not knowing how much longer you have to endure it. 

Eventually you sit up on your elbow, reaching over Remus to check the time on your phone. Your hand is arrested just above the nightstand. 

“What,” Remus’ voice is croaky. “What’re you doing?” 

You don’t answer, knowing an honest one will only earn you a scolding. Remus rolls over and takes you hand with him. You can just barely see the outline of his head in the darkness, but you can feel his warm breath fanning across your face. 

“You know it’s only going to make things worse,” he says quietly. 

“It's worse not knowing,” you whisper. 

Remus sighs, rubbing his thumb into the meat of your palm. Some of your apprehension eases just from having him awake with you. “I’m sorry, sweet girl.” His voice is barely a murmur, but you can feel James starting to stir at your back. “I still think we have to try what the doctor said for now, okay?” 

He pushes his warm palm flat against yours, coaxing a small “okay” out of you. 

“I can stay up with you.” 

“No,” you say, despite the selfish voice in your head going Yes!. Remus needs more sleep than the rest of you to begin with, and you’re more accustomed to going without it than he is. “That’s okay, you should sleep.” 

You’re bracing yourself for his denial when James rolls over behind you, one big arm wrapping around your front. 

“Hey,” he slurs, “where’d you go?” 

You smother a laugh and Remus makes a similarly amused sound, likely guessing what had really happened. He reaches the hand not holding yours over your head to pet James’ hair. 

“I didn’t go anywhere,” you say softly. 

“Stay put this time, hm?” James replies fondly, giving your middle a squeeze. “Y’supposed to be on cuddle duty.” 

This time you can’t suppress it, and a little giggle escapes you. “Sorry,” you say. 

Remus hums in gentled remonstrance, you’re not sure at whom. 

“You’re all being terribly loud,” Sirius groans, and then there’s a shape leering over James’ head, doubtlessly glowering down at the three of you. “Why are we awake?”

“Someone couldn’t sleep,” Remus murmurs. 

Sirius makes a whiny pitying sound, reaching over James to paw blindly at you. You inhale when his perpetually freezing fingers fumble at your collarbone. James saves you, clasping Sirius’ hand in his own. 

“What else is new,” you try to joke. It comes out sounding more glum than you’d like. “Sorry I woke you guys.” 

“No, don’t be, angel.” James’ hand finds its way underneath your sleep shirt, thumb stroking the skin just above your navel. “We’d rather be awake with you anyway.” 

Sirius makes a sound like he could disagree, but his slender fingers burrow into your hair, scratching lightly at your scalp the way he knows you like. You bear the cold for his sake. 

“There’s no point in us all being awake,” you say, though you’re nearly purring from all the loving. “S’not your problem.” 

Sirius tsks. “We’ve been over this, doll. Your problems are ours, too.” 

You hum like Yeah, I know. Sirius takes in a breath like he might say more, but Remus comes to your rescue. 

“Do you want one of us to rub your back, dove?” 

That sounds amazing, actually. But you’re not sure if it’ll help, and you don’t want to put your boyfriends to work if there’s no promise it’ll do anything. “That’s okay,” you say. 

“No, come on.” James is already turning you in his arms. He cozies up to your front, big palm splayed out over your back. “We’re supposed to get you relaxed, right?” 

You nod, and his chest feels warm against your cheek. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep, though.” 

“That’s okay,” he replies readily. “Let’s just give it a try, yeah?”

You hum, acquiescence inlaid with guilt. From behind James, you hear Sirius chide you quietly (“Stop that”) and you know he’s heard it. James likely does too, but he ignores it, big palm beginning to move in broad, slow circles on your back. You try to help as best you can, relaxing into his hold and shutting your eyes. Even so, you grow tenser with frustration the longer it doesn’t work. 

“Breathe, sweetheart,” Remus murmurs behind you. His words brush over your nape like a caress. “Relax. Listen to his heartbeat.” 

You nestle your face closer to James’ chest, and he increases the pressure on your back as if to keep you there. You can hear the steady bump-bump of his heart as well as feel it against your cheek, and something about it has a tranquilizing effect on your own. It creates a beat to match the rhythm of his hand gliding along your back, steady and unwavering. You can hear your own breathing matching up to his, Remus’ too. Distantly, you become aware that Sirius is snoring again, but the thought dissipates half-formed. Your limbs feel warm and soft as wax. 

You don’t notice James moving until his lips come down on the top of your head, his palm still wearing its same track into your back. “Love you,” he says. 

You think you echo the sentiment, but you’re too far gone to know for sure.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

could we get some gally headcannons please?👀

Whatever you want to write🩷

Thank you ❤️

gally in a relationship headcanons

masterlist

finally some gally love <3 idc what anyone says, his eyebrows are beautiful. NSFW BELOW.

the glade

enemies to lovers type shit. i'm talking y'all would go as far as avoiding meal times just to avoid seeing each other.

he'd always be staring at you—from across the glade, through the bonfire, literally all the time.

sooo many interactions would end with y'all being up in each other's faces and throwing petty insults.

you'd slap him if he says anything that borders on sexism. he eventually learns what's what.

'there's a thin line between love and hate'.

other gladers would get so annoyed by how much he talks about you. his favourite excuse: "she just pisses me off so much".

but there's no excuse for jerking off to the thought of you late at night.

honestly, he would probably realise he likes you when you scull his secret recipe drink in front of him.

he'd ignore his feelings until you're the only thing on his mind and it infuriates him so fucking much.

you would be arguing one time and then suddenly he kisses you. the kiss would be aggressive, heated, and most likely up against a tree or hut.

suprisingly, his confession after would be very vulnerable and tender.

everyone is confused the next day when you're practically glued to each other's sides

gally would be very protective and borderline possessive. he'd hate it whenever other guys stare or talk about you.

would probably end up in a fistfight over it.

he'd be a rough/passionate kisser.

he'd be very into thighs. his hands are big and calloused so he'd enjoy wrapping them around the plush of your thighs, kneading the soft warm skin in his hand.

despite his gruff and harsh demeanour, he would always hold/touch you with utmost delicateness, apart from heated moments.

guards you whenever you shower.

would break so many rules for you. reluctantly, of course.

y'all know the term 'sleeper build'? that's gally. he might not seem extremely muscly at first glance, but once he starts heavy-lifting and building, his arms are legit bulging.

your first time together wouldn't be too great, but once you practice more, it gets good. like, really good.

love love loves receiving but also thoroughly enjoys making you come and knowing only he can do it.

his favourite sex position would be holding you up against a wall. he likes feeling strong.

arguments would almost always end with him taking you into the forest and fucking you against a tree.

when he gets stung, he would probably fight through the changing to tell you he loves you one last time before getting speared. oop.

the last city

when y'all reunite, you'd both collapse to the floor in each other's arms kissing and crying which surprises you. the gally you knew was not a crier or favoured public affection.

gally changed a lot since you last saw him, emotionally and physically. he is taller, more muscular, and has a more level-headed and calmer attitude.

he'd be more emotionally available and willing to be open and vulnerable with you.

the first thing y'all do when you're alone is have sex. and he even fucks differently.

the better wording would be 'make love' instead of 'fuck'.

he is much more gentle and loving and focuses on your needs wayyy more than his own. he couldn't believe how aggressive he previously was with you, how selfish he was.

he would worship your body and show you how much you really mean to him.

you would make him leave his mask on one time while y'all fuck. its hot af.

would always be touching you—an arm wrapped around your waist, holding your hand, your thighs, etc.

the hugs, man. he'd literally pick you up and engulf you in his arms. all the time. this mf had a severe epiphany and realised his love language was touch.

would always be complimenting you. "you're beautiful, you know that?", "god, you're a fucking angel.", etc

wouldn't get mad if other guys talked to or stared at you anymore. he would probably joke about it with them instead.

well, maybe he would be a little aggressive.

"yeah, ha-ha, careful or i'll throw you to the cranks".

trusts you to be able to take care of yourself but is still a major worrier, especially during the war within the city.

after arriving at the safe haven, he would build a house for you. you would enjoy watching him because, well... muscles.

all in all, gally would be an extremely different man compared to the one you first met, making your love for him stronger than it had ever been.

[raitonsfw]

𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 | 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞

synopsis: Mornings with Gojo were quite...interesting. If it weren’t for his loud snores and constant whines in your ear, you would’ve fallen asleep by now. But alas, you’ve been up for three hours and had no reason to sleep soon when you felt him press up against you with a shudder wracking his body. 

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, smut, morning p in v, cuddling, wet dreams, grinding, fingering (if you squint), sideways position, begging, teasing, dirty talk, creampie, size kink, a bit rough, pet names (baby), gojo just takes up half of the bed on his own and then some, gojo’s a bit selfish but like he does make up for it, bit ooc for him (i think), idk i tried my best (i wrote this in 3 hours)

a/n: needed to write something fit for this king and its not my greatest work, but its decent at best! still catching up on season 2, (though it's safe to say ik every goddamn spoiler, even manga wise.) wc: 1.5k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

The figure next to you snored. Loudly. You’ve been awake for the past three hours, listening to Gojo sleep next to you, tossing and turning every which way and you wondered why you moved in with him. You knew he wasn’t a sound sleeper, nightmares tended to fill his dreams, an endless void of them. Constant muttering about nothing was also a normal occurrence and you sighed as you awoke for the tenth time from a drifting sleep as he rolled into your space. Again.

“Satoru..” You said his name quietly, nudging him a bit. He didn’t move.

Of course, why did you think that would work? He’s over six feet, for God’s sake and way bigger than you. You couldn’t move him, no matter how hard you tried. Best to just deal with it til morning. 

The coming sunrise had settled in the midst of your curtains, the colorful pop of orange and you groaned. It was morning. You turned over to face the window, away from Gojo, and buried your head into the pillow again. You just needed to tune him out, though the breath against your neck didn’t quite help as he was pressed up against you in the near middle of the bed now. You two needed a bigger bed. 

You felt his arms stretch around your waist and you contemplated whether or not he was awake. You didn’t notice any changes in his breathing, whether it picked up or not. You closed your eyes, trying to get some rest when you felt his fingers dance against your tummy and a quiet whine emitted from behind you. And here we go again, the incredulous noises he made when he slept would keep you up now. 

Not because of how loud he was now. But because they drove you insane, oh how close he was to your ear and panting out little breaths into your shell. The way he pushed up against you even more, seemingly never wanting to leave your side and clinging to you like you’re his lifeline. Damn near putting on a show for you and he didn’t even realize. 

Or maybe he did and he was awake, who knew anymore? 

You felt him hard against you. The swell of his cock made your cunt leak and suddenly, you weren’t tired anymore. You felt his tiny grinds against your ass and a moan slipped from his mouth, you couldn’t see straight. Not when he was doing it again, for the sake of another wet dream, using you like a toy, his toy, to get off on. 

You should wake him. 

“-toru.” You whispered, pushing back against him and another groan left him along with a gentle stir from his body. You heard his breath quicken and you placed your hand on his, the one resting on your tummy. 

Gojo made a soft noise, more like a hm-, and you noticed his grip on you had gotten stronger. He pulled you almost impossibly close, burying his head into the crook of your neck with his lips pressing a kiss into the crevice. His hips picked up a little, sloppy thrusts against you now and his breath hitched in his throat. He sucked a hickey into your flesh and the hand that rested on your tummy slid down towards the top of your panties, casually playing with the lace. 

You were utterly his now, nothing but consumed by his movements and his fingers dipped below the lace and rubbed at your swollen clit. When he noticed how wet, how absolutely sopping you were for him, he tutted in your ear with a husky chuckle. “Already?” 

You nodded, your head bowing back to meet his. Gojo moved his face in front of you, leaning into you as his fingers slipped into you halfway. His bright eyes were heavy with sleep, lust flickering against the corners and you let out a soft whimper as he playfully pulled out his fingers, the tease he was. You leaned up to kiss him, your hand shooting towards his wrist, but he moved his head and hand away. “Beg for them, baby.” 

You pouted a little as he grinded harder against you, and you swore you felt his throbbing cock twitch at your pout. A whine drew out from Gojo’s throat as his head snapped up to look at the headboard, panting quietly. His mouth had dropped open and you took the opportunity to kiss at his jawline, muttering nothing but pleas into his skin. “Please... Satoru.”

What a fucking asshole he was too, solely getting off on you like this. You whined again, nipping at his skin as he lifted your leg up over against his and pressed the bulge of his cock right against the heat of your cunt. He dragged it against you, almost thigh fucking you now as he pulled himself out of his boxers. The crown of it nudged against your clothed core and you gasped lightly, your mind imploringly made up on sobbing for his cock now.

“You want it?” Gojo asked with a demanding breath. He slipped your panties off of your left leg, rubbing his length between your folds. His hand braced your leg now, holding it in the air slightly and the other tangled into your hair. He grinned down at you, his whole body flush with yours now except for his fucking dick which was teasing your clit. He was big, his body and his dick, both and you shuddered against him as you thought about what he could do to you. 

It took you forever just to sink down on him when he begged you to ride, it didn’t seem like he’d go easy on you this morning. Not when his dirty thoughts had been replenished by a wet dream of you. 

You whimpered out endless pleas and he sank into you with a loud groan. The man was loud during sex too, not just when he slept and you yearned for his loudness then. Gojo thrusted all the way into you, nearly splitting you in two, and you cried out as you felt him press against your cervix. 

“S-So tight around me, fuck…” He groaned, his hand tightening on your thigh and you arched your back off the bed, looking down at where you two were connected. You felt so full, stuffed to the brim with nothing but gojo, gojo, gojo-. He pulled your hair sharply, making you look at him with a smirk. “Eyes on me, baby.” 

You moaned in response as he rammed into you harshly, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. Your eyes nearly swam in the back of your head and he finally, finally, pulled you into a kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you couldn’t help your whimpers as he swallowed them whole. He fucked into you with vigor, your slick lubing up his cock nicely. 

“Yeah, take it all, that’s good, doing so well for me.” He snapped his hips into you, glancing down at him inside you and his breath hitched, his moans became light and airy as you clenched around him with a whine. Fuck, you loved when Gojo praised you, your walls tightening even more around him from the sound of his voice. “Squeezing me in like a champ, shit-”

He sucked at the soft flesh of your breasts, nipping lightly at your nipple as he pounded into you. You watched his eyebrows furrow in pleasure and he panted against your skin, his eyes squeezing shut and you knew he was close– you could barely register your own release nearing as you thought of his own wracking his body soon.

Your orgasm came flooding through you and you leaked all over his cock, the tension snapping within you and you couldn’t control how your hands flew to his back, scratching down it brutally. Gojo came right after you, whimpers flying out of his mouth and he bit down against your collarbone harshly, leaving a fresh mark. His cock twitched inside you as he spurted his cum in you, languidly pushing it into you further. His hips barely stilled, only stopping when he came down from his high and when you whined from the overstimulation. 

“Did I wake you up again?” Gojo asked a few moments later, the silence lingering in the air. He didn’t bother to pull out of you, his head laying on your chest now. The sun had made its way into the sky now, pouring sunlight into the room. “If I did, I’m sorry.” 

Yeah, he did wake you, but you’re glad he did. You’re glad he snores loudly in his sleep. You’re glad he tosses and turns in the smack dab middle of the bed. You’re glad he pressed himself against you, taking up all the space on the bed. You’re glad he’s selfish with his sleeping habits even if he doesn't mean it. 

And he’s glad that you even agreed to sleep next to him, in the midst of his chaotic nights.

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS — OSAMU MIYA

content warnings: smut, mentions of voyeurism (suna is just there for the ride), possessive language and toxic behaviors, f!reader, situationships, oral (giving and receiving), mind numbing flirting & witty banter, creampie, he calls you a slut twice, you’re both kinda shitty. 🤷🏾

plot: as usual, atsumu has brought another “friends with benefits minus the friend” home. but unusually, osamu can’t stand the thought of you together, even suna agrees, right?

a/n: tv girl referenced! something evil took over me when writing this, I’m getting uninvited from so many miya birthday parties omg … T_T enjoy this 4.6k word vom.

Osamu never thought being roommates with his own twin could get any worse than when they were young boys sharing a bunk bed. Atsumu was never the type to return clothes he borrowed and certainly was the type to eat food sharpied with someone else’s name. What was Osamu’s, by extension, was Atsumu’s. He loved his brother and would yield to his selfishness because that’s just how things were.

Lately, however, Atsumu has been seeing someone, more and more frequently. Going as far as replacing his other quick fucks between practices for you. Osamu can understand why, you’re witty, unbelievably sexy, and far too sophisticated to be a fuck laid by Atsumu whenever he sends a quick “come over” text.

This matter has perplexed everyone in Atsumu Miya’s circle, questions raise on how he even managed to get your attention. “Yer all just mad it’s me she wants,” the cheeky bastard says with a toothy grin. To that, he’s not wrong.

That’s how Osamu and Suna have ended up here, with their ears to the door trying to understand what you possibly could be getting in fair exchange. “You fuckin’ love it don’t you baby,” Atsumu says to you in a tone dripping with confidence. It makes both their stomachs churn thinking of someone so beautiful with a guy like that…

“I just can’t believe this,” Suna dramatizes, he really wants to aid his friend but with each passing second of skin slapping against skin — he doesn’t know how much longer Osamu can take it. The Miyas are .. rather possessive, especially him.

“Mhm hm! Love it ‘Tsumu your dick is so good!” It’s downright pornographic how honey-sweet you sound, it just has to be fake.

“Rin, we both know Atsumu can’t fuck women that good. Tell me I still have a chance,” he’s delusional and he knows it, but the small sliver of hope keeps him desperately chasing after what’s not his.

“You’re crazy,” he snickers, almost pitying his friend for how hard he is beneath his pants. “One Miya is trouble enough, but two? She’ll be running for the hills.”

That’s all Osamu needed to set his plot into motion, he’ll just have to steal you away from him — his own brother.

It’s a quiet Sunday morning in the apartment, you roll out of Atsumu’s huge bed to make yourself coffee like you usually do when you stay over. Bless his heart but you and your newest fuck could not be any more different, he’s a late sleeper, overconfident, and to top it all off he’s not the greatest lay. You weren't sure how you ended up sleeping with a volleyball player.

But, he is undeniably handsome, which is how you found yourself in his bed. Shoving those thoughts aside, you slip into the hallway in nothing but one of his oversized shirts making your way to the kitchen. “Mornin’, coffee’s on the table.”

His voice startles you from your half-awakened stupor and you realize it’s just Atsumu. How sweet, he’s never done something like this for you before. You rub your sleepy eyes as you take a sip from the warm mug, hold on. You just left his bed, how could he be here?

Dark brown hair and cold grey eyes meet yours and instantly you know who this man is. “Oh- I’m so sorry Osamu, it didn’t register to me that you’d be here today.” You panic, trying to cover yourself up with something but he just laughs you off while drinking from his own cup.

Osamu Miya, the twin brother and (elusive) roommate of Atsumu. “You’re fine pretty, just enjoy the coffee. Let me know if you want any breakfast with it.” Once a month Osamu closes his shop in preparation for a big rice delivery from Kita, he’s just happened to catch you alone in his living room.

Involuntary heat rises to your face at his choice of words, you haven’t been formally introduced on account of the fact your relationship with his brother isn’t serious but you don’t mind his informal greeting. “So the rumors are true, you’re a chef?” you query, setting your mug down on a table closest to your seat.

God. The lilt in your voice makes him shudder and swallow hard, not to mention that the fat of your thighs peek out from under your shirt when you cross your legs. You aren’t aware of this, but that’s his shirt Atsumu has yet to return — but right now he’ll let that go — he gets to see you wear it.

“Mhm, it seems I can’t deny the allegations. Mostly onigiri though. Sorry to disappoint.” He can’t help himself but to flirt with you, his twisted infatuation morphing into a crush now that he’s immersed himself in the real thing. The soft glow of the morning light makes you appear like an angel on his couch.

“Well Mr. Chef, don’t hurt yourself trying to make bacon and eggs,” you muse. While he may be as handsome as Atsumu, he’s different; calmer, wittier, and more adept at ordinary life skills from the looks of it. This man, you reckon, is the sole reason why your sneaky link even has a proper roof over his head.

The conversation flows naturally between you as he prepares the needed ingredients. It ranges from work to his restaurant then back to you again, you find yourself laughing at his jokes and feeling much more comfortable in the apartment than before. There's a certain chemistry that seems to occur between you.

It continues like this for a while, Osamu finding reasons to be at the flat instead of his restaurant so that he may spend time with you, chatting you up over breakfast that he’s prepared. Flirtatious remarks beneath the guise of innocent conversation.

It feels wrong, coming over for one man hoping to see another the next morning, the worst of all being that they have the same face. Yet, they could not be any more contrasting. Where Atsumu forces your submission in his bedroom - Osamu rightfully earns it by tending to you. Sometimes when you look up between your lashes you wish it was dark hair you were seeing instead of platinum.

It’s another quiet Sunday morning in the Miya’s apartment. Your feet feel light as you make your way down the hallway to see him, Osamu. It’s inexplicable to you why there seems to be more cadence in your step with each strut forward, and on queue there he is. Alluring as he sits on the couch in his compression tee.

The same relaxed smile and soft tone, “Mornin’ sweetness, your coffee’s on the table.” You scoop the mug up as you plop down on the forgiving cushion next to him.

“This isn’t a sound business practice, aren’t owners supposed to open their restaurant?” You’re quick to start this morning, craving the stimulating conversation you can only find in him - like he’s some sort of haven amongst the rubble that is your situationship. The guilt does gnaw at you, making the coffee taste even more bitter than usual.

It’s what he’s been waiting for, the foundation begins to crumble and like your hero, he’ll swoop in. “Yes, but lately I’ve been hired as a private chef. The clientele is rather demanding of me if you can believe that,” he retorts while deadpanning in your direction. When he looks at you it feels like you’re bare for his eyes alone. Those cool tone grey eyes that know exactly what you are.

It leaves a lump in your throat that makes it difficult to talk. He continues between sips of his coffee, “she only requests bacon and eggs when I could give her so much more.” It makes your blood rush trying to see through his act, is it literal or innuendo? Nevertheless, you dance around each other avoiding the inevitable for a taste of limbo.

“What’s on the menu then?” You’re content to shove the ball back on his side of the court, intent on making him reveal his cards in a full flush.

The air in the room suffocates you, what seems like a quick conversation plays in slow motion. You’ve always been one to play coy, guarding your heart with quick jabs and humor. He indulges you, plays the game, the one of the cat and the mouse.

But the Miya’s are not coy, not by a long shot. “You.” It’s simple and effective, and he doesn’t miss the hitch in your breath when you realize he’s both literal and figurative.

During this long winded plot of his, Osamu has purposely avoided the topic of Atsumu all together. He doesn’t want to feed the green in his vision, doesn’t want to think of the consequences, he just wants you. Desperately.

It’s like your brain's shut down, the truth is right here in your face but it’s flustering. You’ve won, but why does it feel like you’ve lost? “I— Osamu,” you start, but you just can’t meet his gaze.

“Face it, when you’re with him you’re thinking of me.” The shame washes over you and becomes a pit of despair in your stomach. Your hands bunch the fabric of Atsumu’s shirt as you sit there and face the truth for yourself. The ugly, raring, and raw truth: that you want his hands to roam the canvas of your body, that it’s his lips you want seared into your flesh, that it’s his room you wish you were going into during the wee hours of the night. Not Atsumu’s.

He’s in front of you now, his broad shoulders casting a dubious shadow over you. “Tell me — right here n’ now — that you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone.” But still, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. To be met with that face.

“Osamu, please.” You beg, pawing at his shirt, with tears in your eyes. “Don’t leave,” you feel pathetic, shame eating at you for acting so desperate. You’ve never behaved this way before, not genuinely at least. He drives you crazy, and you’re not willing to let it go so easily.

He thinks he’ll cum in his pants from this little display alone, your honesty and vulnerability fueling his twisted desire. He looks more like his brother than ever before, trademark wicked smirk at the feeling of victory. It’s delightful.

“Shh, pretty thing I’m not gonna quit you,” he says taking your face in his big hand. It’s hot, searing to the touch. The pad of his thumb strokes your plush cheek, “feel what you do to me.”

Osamu takes your hand in his, covering it seamlessly while dragging it up his thigh. He’s hard, incredibly so. It’s almost painful just how bricked he is beneath his pants. “See,” he helps you palm from the base all the way to the tip and you swear you’re dripping onto his couch. He groans softly feeling your delicate hands basically grope him in his shared living room, but fuck does it feel good.

He has to stop himself from grinding into your hand, frantic to finally get some reprieve to this insatiable ache for you. “So, how long,” you ask, not stopping your ministrations.

The air around you has changed, you’ve regained your composure knowing you weren’t alone in your desperation. He hisses when you cup his balls looking for a response, “how long what?”

His face is flushed a wild shade of pink and it’s only heightened by the morning light pouring in through the windows. “Now you want to play coy with me, Osamu Miya? How long have you waited to fuck me behind Atsumu’s back? Was it when he first brought me home,” your hand slides along the fabric smoothly as you rest your head against his hip.

“Maybe it was all those times you made me coffee?” You continue palming him, essentially jacking him off through his pants. “Or maybe when you were listening outside the door?” You squeeze and he lets out a choked whimper.

“Like yer any better slut, jerkin’ me off while you’re under my brothers roof.” He can’t control his tone, country accent raring to go on account of feeling cornered. You make him feel so good he doesn’t want to stop, he’s never been this hard in his life.

You hum, pleased with his response. “Such a nasty mouth for a chef. Do you speak to your customers this way?” He’s pulling himself out of his pants before you get the chance, his tip angry and red, soaked with precious pre.

It makes your mouth water, you’re eye level with his cock and all you want is to make yourself gag on it. “Nah, just the pretty ones with a bratty mouth. So show me what you can do hot stuff.”

Spitting directly on his head you drag the bulb down to his base with your tongue, watching as he shudders from your seated position. You place your hands on either side of his hips as you take him fully in your mouth, lapping the salty taste up trying to replace it with your own. “Dirty lil thing, you do this for him?”

The possession in his voice is palpable but you give him a taste of his own medicine. “Nah, only for the handsome ones who are smartasses,” releasing him from your mouth makes a pop sound. You jerk him in one hand as you belittle him, smiling with spit dribbling down your chin.

He thinks he might be in love with you, isn’t that funny. A woman who can reduce him to mere putty that’s rightfully not his, how raunchy. It makes Osamu’s balls pulse uncomfortably.

You’re a vixen, sent to entice him with your every move and fluid jerk of your wrist. He has to stop now or he’ll cum too fast, he wants this moment to last forever. The way you worship him and his cock, the way your smart mouth makes his head swim, and how warm your hands are on his bare skin.

Osamu Miya has never felt so greedy in his entire life. He hasn’t felt the need to ask anything this demanding of his brother, but what’s Atsumu’s is Osamu’s. Right? What’s a quick fuck to one is a wife to another, and with the way you’re sucking him off he might just have to put a ring on it.

Reluctantly, he pulls himself from your hot mouth before he’s able to spill down your throat. He taps the tip of his cock against your lips insultingly with a grin, “Enough, so damn desperate yer gonna choke on it.”

He’s mean but it excites you, Atsumu has never spoken to you like this only really going through the motions. You can’t help how your pussy clenches involuntarily around nothing nor can you stop the heat from rising to your face as you draw your thighs together. You sit there, staring at each other with bated breaths as the reality of what you’re doing sets in.

But if you thought that was going to deter him, you are sorely mistaken. He practically falls to his knees to get a taste of your lips against his, resting his upper body between your legs on the couch. Osamu groans tasting himself on your tongue as he invades your mouth.

You’re slobbering all over each other in a heated attempt to engulf one another. He grabs the back of your thighs while you wrap your arms around his neck. It’s like months of desperate mutual yearning have come to fruition and neither of you will let up. Not even for air.

You’re not wearing any panties and you’re sure your cunts drooling all over the place as he sucks kisses down your neck and collarbones. “Osamu—” you whine quietly, only for him to hear. His tongue licks and prods at your sensitive skin giving you goosebumps. It’s so hot and heavy you can’t make any sense of yourself just from some simple kisses.

He’s reduced you to nothing with minimal effort, wildly different from other sexual encounters you’ve had. “I need more of you Osamu, please,” and it’s the sweetest words he’s ever heard uttered. You’re absolutely perfect, just for him.

“Of course love, whatever you need.” His hands begin to spread your legs apart as another gush of slick pours out of you from the pet name alone. “I bet he doesn’t even know what to do with this, doesn’t know how to make you feel good like I can.”

If that’s a promise, you need him to fulfill it. His words are heavy in your ears as you watch him take his shirt off, they weigh in your chest threatening to drag you down with him. He spreads your puffy folds apart with his thumb, getting a good look at you and letting out coos of praise. “Yer so fuckin wet I can see it,” he dips into your warmth only slightly, marveling at the slick that coats his fingers.

He eyes them and you try to stop him before he does what you think he’s gonna do. “Don’t do that, it’s nasty,” you say trying to grab his hand.

But he swats you away, appraising the translucent liquid by spreading his fingers apart before sticking them in his mouth. “Mhm, n’ you taste as good as you look.”

He loves this look on you, the horror written all over your face as he sucks them clean. A chef never wastes a proper meal, and he’s still fuckin hungry.

Osamu yanks you down the couch to be as close as possible, he can feel the heat radiating from your cunt with just his face above it. He can tell you’ve never had someone properly eat you out by the way you’re so scared to let him even play around with you, and that lights a fire under his ass.

He dives tongue first into your folds, purposely avoiding the spot you need him the most. The moan you let out is a stark comparison to anything he’s heard from you before, but he can’t have you spoiling the fun already.

So he’ll kiss you instead, forcing you to taste yourself and groan into his maw while his fingers work magic in your cunt. Your nails find purchase in the skin of his back as he holds your leg open with one hand and slides his middle finger inside you with another. He pulls back, gauging your reaction for any discomfort as he works it in and out of your sopping heat.

“So messy for me baby, god I love it,” but he’s not looking at you, he’s looking at where his finger slips inside you; making you watch as his knuckles disappear before sliding in another.

The second digit proving to be a stretch for you as you cry into his mouth about how good it feels, “so good ‘samu, just a little faster.”

That’s when he curls them upwards, toying the rougher patch of your g-spot with the pads of his middle and ring finger. The force at which you try to close your legs and dig your nails into his skin lets him know he’s in the right place. “Gotta stay quiet sweetheart, can ya do that for me?”

You don’t know how you could be, with the way he’s listening to your body he’s managed to play its perfect tune. But you nod, covering your mouth with your hand obediently as he descends between your legs again.

Finally, he pays mind to your puffy clit. Giving it kitten licks while his fingers are still making a sloppy mess of you down below. He groans sending vibrations through you in the act of suckling your bud between his lips.

It’s muffled, but he can hear you chanting his name as he throughly wrecks you with just his mouth and hands. It causes white hot pleasure to settle in the belly of you as you writhe and try and to run away from it. He won’t let you, forcing your legs apart even wider.

You’re cumming on his fingers before you even know it. Leaving red welts on his shoulder as you go limp on the couch. “Just keep cumming for me pretty. Let go,” his low calm voice centers you when you begin to twitch against your will.

You’ve rarely ever truly came when fucking Atsumu, but Osamu has you pleading for mercy as he thumbs your clit through the aftershocks.

He lets you catch your breath, helping you remove the oversized shirt from over your head. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” he says while thumbing your chin, and kissing your tits tenderly. His eyes reassure you from between the valley of your breasts.

You’re appreciative of his masked concern, “then stop talking, and start doing.” The fight in you is exactly why he wanted you in the first place.

“To think this gorgeous pussys been wasted,” he tsks. “Don’tcha worry yer pretty head baby, I’ll fuck that attitude outta ya.” He stands up, removing the rest of his clothing and putting you on the couch how he wants you. Obviously, he was going to go for missionary, all so that you could see him in the act of claiming you as his own.

You know you’re in trouble with Osamu when he slips into his country accent, it’s involuntary but it’s his true nature. You’re placed onto your back by his big arms, most likely from carrying heavy bags of rice everyday at his job. You can’t help but ogle at the thin layer of sweat that coats him, and he smiles. So charming.

He begins by lining himself with your entrance, teasing the ring of muscle with the tip of his cock. It makes you whine, needy for more but he won’t just take you. No, he uses your pussy to lube himself up. “For fucks sake ‘Samu just put it in please,” you think using a nickname on him will work like it does with Atsumu.

But Osamu is in control of himself and his desires (for the most part), he’ll rut his hips into your sticky labias, running over your sensitive clit with the underside of himself. “So needy, jus’ watch” he tilts your chin downwards to make you gaze at where your bodies nearly meet.

He’s going to break you before anything else. The sight is turning you on beyond belief, his body tensing and releasing with every slow drawl of his lazy hips. “How bad d’ya want me? Tell me n’ I’ll fuck you slut.”

The way in which he carries himself warns you to not mess with him, submit. It’s all in his face, the restraint, the power, the control. You want to break down and beg him for everything so that he may see you for what you truly are in those grey eyes. “I think about you every time I come over here, every time you’ve poured me coffee or made my eggs I’ve wanted you. ‘Samu I need you s’bad please..”

You feel him physically twitch and groan lowly at your confession. He wasn’t expecting all that but it certainly does stroke his ego. Osamu pinches your nipple slightly as he grins. “Yeah baby, you wish it was me touchin’ you,” its rhetorical. He’ll reward you though, ‘fer bein so damn good’.

He feels heavenly entering you, it makes your toes curl when you hear him sigh into a slow pace. He takes his time with you, working you up to fully enjoy your experience with him. “You feel so good, fuck.. n’ your pussy’s so warm,” he says while tightening the grip on the back of your knees.

Everything is hitting you at once and it’s getting hotter by the second, your heavy breaths hitting his face as you accept him in full. It’s a snug fit and the curve of him feels just right in your walls, fuck you need him closer.

“I want you,” is all that comes out between soft whimpers. And he obliges, folding you in half and guiding your arms to hang around his shoulders. He feels so deep inside you that you can’t even see straight. His face is red with his brows drawn together in pleasure.

You try and keep quiet but the muffled sound of skin against skin keeps ringing in your ears along with the slosh of your cunt. “Lettin’ me pound you raw too, should just let me have ya. I know I’m fuckin’ you better than him.”

His words are like fire on your skin, burning you from the inside out. Your walls flutter and convulse around him as he snickers. It registers that you can feel all of him and you whine. The flood gates threaten to spill.

“I— Osamu s’good, oh my god!” He revels in the fact it almost sounds like you’re in pain from how much satisfaction you’re feeling, because of him. It’s his name you’re wailing, not Atsumu’s.

You dig your nails deeper, certain to draw blood as you're needy more of him. The band in you is threatening to snap. He’s close too, quickening the rate at which he barrels into you. Reaching deeper and deeper as he makes eye contact with you. It’s so intimate that you feel yourself succumbing.

“Where do you wan’ it baby,” his eyes are glossed over with lust and his voice thick with desire. There’s only one place you want him, inside.

It’s like music to his ears, he’s spilling his seed in hot thick ropes as he stills himself balls deep inside you. You unravel, biting your lip as you squeeze him tighter than a vice, he’s groaning and shallowly pumping into your shaking form.

You never knew missionary on a sofa could feel so fucking good, he looks at you with such care in his eyes that you melt.

Osamu helps you clean up, apologizing for the frothy ring of cum on his base and the mess that pours out of you. He’s "a sucker for a cream pie" is what he tells you.

Things between you couldn’t remain as they were, you both knew that know after you practically devoured each other right down the hall from Atsumu’s room.

He brings you to his space, letting you shower and wipe yourself down (not without groping your curves between steps). You talk about what you should say or how to even go about it over breakfast he made, but this time you're wearing his shirt.

It’s safe to say Atsumu was not pleased losing one of his favorite fucks, but in some weird way he’s not completely pissed. He’s never seen Osamu so fucking selfish n' greedy before, so he must be pretty serious about you. In time he’ll forgive him, even swing by the restaurant to see you two.

“How’s it feel havin’ my seconds,” he’ll taunt behind your back to Osamu when you’re not around. Jutting his elbow into his brothers side.

Osamu rolls his eyes, “still bitter it’s my cock she’s begging for every night I see. Get better soon.” He knows you’re happier with him, sending a hardened look at Atsumu.

They both smile as you approach the table with snacks, dropping whatever argument as you greet them. “Hello Miya and better Miya.”

Osamu snickers, kissing your left hand with his engagement ring on it. Atsumu just grumbles under his breath. “Hello Mrs. Miya,” they both say in unison.

[astrobiscuits]

Astro obs part 9

🐌 The planets in your 12th house indicate your sleeping style:

Sun in 12th house - their sleep schedule is extremely messed up; for them, daylight hours = nighttime hours and vice versa, so they have trouble being themselves during the day; their true self comes out at night

Moon in 12th house - goes to sleep very late; full moons have a special effect on these people; their intuition is more clear at night; as kids, they probably slept a lot with their mother

Mercury in 12th house - loves texting/calling people late at night; they might journal their thoughts before sleep because they overthink a lot and it helps to clear their mind or maybe they just like to relax by reading a book at night

Venus in 12th house - cares a lot about getting their "beauty sleep"; sleeps with sleep masks on, buys expensive bed lingerie, skincare night routine might be very important; loves sleeping in general lmao

Mars in 12th house - enjoys working out before going to sleep, can go to sleep angry because they tend to get into conflict more at night than during the day

I have Uranus in 12th house and i can be both a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper, depending on where i am. For example, when i'm traveling, during the first night i wake up several times, but from the second night on i sleep like a baby lmao. Another thing would be that i can't sleep in a quiet car but i don't have any problem sleeping during a thunderstorm

🐌 Mars in fire signs (Aries, Leo, Sag) and Mars in 3rd house individuals love riding motorbikess

🐌 While Mars in 9th house peeps would probably love to go on a world tour on their motorbike. The sign ruling their 9th house represents the countries they would love to visit (i'm aware that some of these can only be visited by plane, take it with a grain of salt): 

♈ in 9th house: Ireland, Poland, Japan, Zimbabwe

♉ in 9th house: Cuba, Paraguay, South Africa, East Timor

♊ in 9th house: Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Iceland, Montenegro

♋ in 9th house: Canada, USA, Bahamas, Argentina, Slovenia, Madagascar

♌ in 9th house: Hawaii, France, Italy, The Netherlands, India, South Korea, Peru, Bolivia

♍ in 9th house: Switzerland, Mexico, Brazil, Chile, Vietnam

♎ in 9th house: Belgium, Portugal, China, Equatorial Guinea, Lesotho

♏ in 9th house: Panama, Spain, Turkey, Arab countries (Saudi Arabia, UAE), Palestine, Lebanon

♐ in 9th house: Finland, Lithuania, Romania, Tanzania, Thailand

♑ in 9th house: UK, Germany, Czech Republic, Australia, Camerun

♒ in 9th house: Greece, New Zealand, Philippines, Singapore, Sri Lanka

♓ in 9th house: Morocco, Tunisia, Egypt, Mauritius, Saint Lucia

🐌 I have a feeling Pisces Suns like to spend their time in a garage lmao. Mostly because their opposing sign, Virgo, would hate to spend time in a garage due to how dirty it can get.

🐌As a 7th house Sun who's been in love for almost a year now (haha, are we surprised, ofcours not; i'm not even in a relationship with him but ugh we're so perfect for each other), i realised that Sun in 7th house people tend to behave differently with their partner when they're in a healthy relationship vs when they're in a toxic one

Sun in 7th house in:

♈ Aries in a healthy relationship: empowers their partner, knows how to balance me time vs us time in a healthy manner, encourages their partner to take safe risks

♈ Aries in an unhealthy relationship: impulsive, impatient, selfish, dismisses their partner's feelings, often controlled by rage, prone to abusing their partner

♉ Taurus in a healthy relationship: veryyy generous (their love language is gift giving), accommodating to their partner's wants and needs, cooks for their partner

♉ Taurus in an unhealthy relationship: stubborn af, hard to please, focused more on the material gain from their partner rather than the love they share

♊ Gemini in a healthy relationship: curious, always lightens the mood of their partner by cracking up tons of jokes or telling them funny stories, knows that communication is key to everything so they're not afraid to discuss serious topics, teaches their partner a lot of random stuff

♊ Gemini in an unhealthy relationship: superficial, doesn't have a problem moving on from their partner to another person in a matter of seconds, if they're still in school/college, then they prioritize studying over their partner

♋ Cancer in a healthy relationship: nurturing, knows how to balance babying their partner vs being babied by their partner, emotionally vulnerable, feels safe enough to present their partner to their family early on in the relationship

♋ Cancer in a unhealthy relationship: if they don't trust their partner, they tend to become emotionally closed off to hide their deep sadness; defensive, but if their partner attackes them, then they'll hide, worries excessively, avoids presenting their partner to their family

♌ Leo in a healthy relationship: treats their partner like the king/queen they are, keeps their ego in check so it doesn't interfere with the relationship, if they've got artistic talents (music, acting, art etc.), they'll show their love for their partner by performing in front of them

♌ Leo in an unhealthy relationship: egocentric, shows off their partner/relationship too much out of pride, often feels entitled in the relationship and wants to be put on a pedestal by their partner

♍ Virgo in a healthy relationship: selfless to a healthy degree, remembers every lil detail from every casual conversations with their partner just to please them, remembers every important date and plans ahead for it, takes care of their partner when they're sick

♍ Virgo in a unhealthy relationship: critical, overfixates on past hurts and mistakes that their partner made in the relationship (often times their partner doesn't even remember those things because they're usually not that serious), loves their pets more than their partner

♎ Libra in a healthy relationship: romantic, charismatic, truly values their partner and the relationship with them, acts fair in the relationship, teaches their partner lovingly about the importance of honesty, truth and a healthy give and take dynamic in a relationship

♎ Libra in an unhealthy relationship: doesn't prioritize the relationship; instead, they flirt with others despite being in a relationship, emotionally detached, cold and calculated in their current relationship

♏ Scorpio in a healthy relationship: loyal, loves their partner deeply and intensely, but without suffocating them, keeps their partner's secrets like they're a locked safe box with no public access

♏ Scorpio in an unhealthy relationship: obsessive, manipulative, seeks to dominate their partner, displays stalkish behaviour in the relationship, liar

♐ Sagittarius in a healthy relationship: exposes their partner to various cultures, belief systems and philosophies to expand their mind and form their own opinion on certain topics, loves freely but is still able to maintain a long-term relationship, improves their partner's mood, usually brings an element of surprise and excitement to the relationship

♐ Sagittarius in an unhealthy relationship: travels in order to avoid dealing with their partner, parties a bit too much, doesn't take the relationship seriously

♑ Capricorn in a healthy relationship: loves their partner in a mature, serious and secure manner, doesn't shy away from improving their partner's social status and/or career if they can, discusses plans for the future (getting married, having kids, adopting pets, buying a house) with their partner early on in the relationship, they make time for their partner, despite the fact that they're busy most of the time

♑ Capricorn in an unhealthy relationship: displays no emotions or physical affection in the relationship, has a hard time communicating their thoughts with their partner, settles in a relationship for the wrong reasons (money/kids/safety/"i'm getting old and i need to have my life established"), prioritizes work/career over their partner

♒ Aquarius in a healthy relationship: flexible, makes their partner's dreams and aspirations come true (whether they're related to the relationship or not), has got a very open-minded attitude towards their partner's opinions, lifestyle and identity, takes the time to become friends firsts with their future partner because they value a relationship built on solid foundation (often times their partner is also their best friend), knows how to balance couple time vs time with friends

♒ Aquarius in an unhealthy relationship: displays wishy-washy behaviour, emotionally detached, prioritizes their friends over their partner, seeks online validation from strangers and acquaintances to fulfill their needs

♓ Pisces in a healthy relationship: sensitive to their partner's emotions, knows how to balance wearing their heart on their sleeve vs hiding their emotions in unfavourable circumstances, always honest with their partner

♓ Pisces in an unhealthy relationship: prone to drown their relationship problems and sorrows in alcohol, drugs and meds for mental health issues, runs away from problems instead of dealing with them with their partner, displays dishonesty to a fault, prone to self-sabotage

[subskz]

go easy - h.js

note: this is a reupload from my old blog

content: sub jisung, dom reader, masturbation (m), brief voyeurism, a bit of degradation, reader calls jisung a slut once, use of traffic light system, stopping during a scene, crying, slight angst, hurt/comfort, pegging, lots of praise

word count: 6.6k

The scent of your cooking wafted through the kitchen as you turned the knob on your stove to lower its heat to a simmer. You gave the eggs you’d scrambled a few more tentative pokes with your utensil before deciding that you were satisfied, shutting off the fire beneath the pan at last.

Jisung was still sound asleep in the other room—or at least, you assumed he was given that he hadn’t yet been lured into the kitchen by the mouthwatering aroma. You set the sizzling pan down on the counter and glanced at your phone to check the time. It was nearly noon, and as much as you wanted Jisung to get proper rest, especially knowing that he’d gone to bed thoroughly exhausted the night prior, you figured it’d be better to wake him up before his whole day was thrown off. A part of you wanted him awake so he could have the chance to eat his breakfast before it got cold, but the other half—the more selfish one—simply missed him. No matter how groggy he might be when he first woke up; mumbling to himself for minutes, ruffling his unruly hair and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before he could get a proper sentence out, he always brightened your mornings with his slurred jokes and lazy giggles.

The thought alone was enough to stir fondness in your chest, bringing an involuntary smile to your face as if you could hear his raspy voice already. You made quick work of setting the rest of the table and headed out of the kitchen, making your way down the hall towards your bedroom. In retrospect, shutting the door so that the clatter of your cooking wouldn’t disturb Jisung hadn’t really been necessary, considering how deep of a sleeper he was.

A small, muffled noise coming from the other side of the wall captured your attention, bringing you to a halt as you reached for the door handle. You stayed put for a moment, not even having the chance to question whether you’d imagined it or not when it was soon followed by another, just audible enough for you to catch. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard Jisung talk in his sleep, but the nature of the sounds you were hearing—stifled, swallowed down, like he was having trouble getting them out—had you wondering if he might be experiencing a nightmare of some kind. 

You listened long enough for your curiosity to begin morphing into concern. A noise almost akin to a gasp met your ears, cut short as soon as it came, just barely allowing you to catch it. With a frown, you turned the door handle and tiptoed into your bedroom, completely unprepared for the scene that awaited you inside.

Jisung was awake, very much so.

Your comforter had been bunched up and tossed to the side, giving you a clear view of exactly what had been drawing out all those strange, breathless noises from him. He was hunched over, eyes squeezed shut, messy hair falling into his face, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. His shorts and underwear were pushed down just far enough for his hand to move freely, like he’d been in too much of a rush to even bother removing them properly. Given how fast he was stroking himself, that was probably the case.

You blinked a few times, processing the scene unfolding before you in stunned silence. He hadn’t yet noticed that you’d slipped into the room, still fully consumed by the feeling of his hand sliding up and down his length at a frantic pace, working himself to his high with a shameless lack of control. The noises he made were hushed, but deliciously desperate, and judging by the obvious flush on his cheeks, you could tell just how hard he was trying to hold his breath and restrain himself so they wouldn’t ring out too loud.

Any remaining shock you’d felt was quickly overtaken by a wave of arousal when you heard Jisung call out your name—so soft, so broken, you might have thought you’d misheard if he didn’t buck up into his fist especially hard as he uttered it, like the mere thought of you was just what he needed to send him over the edge right then and there. He slowed his pumping to flatten his palm and roll it over the head of his cock, cursing under his breath. You knew better than anyone how crazy the move drove him—you were the one who’d discovered it in the first place, gotten him hooked on it. It ignited a strange heat in your stomach, to realize that you were the only thing on his mind in that moment.

You’d never quite seen Jisung like this before. Curled in on himself, forcing back his moans in a relentless chase for pleasure from hands other than yours. He was typically so vocal about his desires with you, rarely shying away from demanding all your attention and begging you to take care of him when his need became too much to contain any longer. The fact that he was trying to keep it all a secret from you, like he was doing something wrong, had you more excited than you’d like to admit.

He clamped his jaws shut to suppress what was sure to have been a particularly loud cry, throwing his head back in a fit of pleasure. As he did, his half-lidded eyes finally caught a glimpse of you. Arms crossed, leaning lazily against the doorframe with an expression on your face that made his stomach flip.

He stiffened, hand freezing around his dick. A choked noise escaped him as his stare met yours, the remaining traces of his moan instantly dying out in his throat.

“Morning,” you hummed.

Jisung’s eyes grew wide as moons; a deer caught in headlights, a look far too innocent considering what he’d just been doing. With a mortified squeak, his hand scrambled for the nearest pillow, flinging it over himself in a pointless attempt to cover up the dripping mess of arousal peeking from his half-discarded shorts. Embarrassingly enough, the softness pressing suddenly against his most sensitive spot made him jolt, so hard that he was positive you wouldn’t miss it.

Your lips twitched into the beginnings of a smile, and you made your way over to the bed, flopping down on it casually across from him. “Don’t be shy, Hannie,” your voice was calm for the most part, but it was difficult to contain the delight creeping into it. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, right?”

At that, Jisung’s face heated up impossibly more, creating a pretty blush against his tan skin that you couldn’t get enough of.

“I...I thought you were busy,” he stammered out, gripping the pillow tighter. “I didn’t mean...um, I mean, I wasn’t trying to—”

His rambling was cut off when you leaned forward to cup his face in your hands, smile curving to completion when you felt for yourself how much his skin was burning under your palms. You gave his full cheeks a squeeze, gentle enough for him to relax into your touch. “Weren’t trying to get yourself off?” you finished for him. “It’s alright, baby. Why don’t you show me what you were doing?”

Jisung swallowed hard. “You’re not mad?” 

“Mm...not mad,” you began, rubbing your thumbs along his flushed face, feeling his pulse race under them. “Just a little hurt that you didn’t call for me to help you out.”

He cast his eyes down, unable to turn his head away in shame like every instinct told him to. You were only teasing him, no signs of disappointment lacing your tone, but it crashed a heavy guilt over him all the same. To not only do something so pathetic, so shameful, but to be caught by you in the process. You, the one he wanted to be good for, the one he did everything with your approval in mind.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s way too early for me to be so…ah.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could fade into the sheets and escape your watchful eyes before he died of pure humiliation right there—or worse, before the fresh rush of adrenaline it sent through his body to be found like this made his situation infinitely more embarrassing. He could already feel it, creeping up his neck, making his cock throb against the soft fabric of the pillow.

“Just…didn’t wanna bother you for something like this.”

With the exception of an occasional,  overly-eager misstep, Jisung always tried his best to be as well-behaved as possible for you. It was a rare occurrence for you to scold him over anything���he didn’t give you much of a reason to, nor a desire to. Not when his doe eyes gleamed up at you in a constant search for praise and his voice rang out so sweetly with every word of adoration you gave him. Though he hadn’t necessarily broken any rules, it still felt strangely thrilling to you to have caught him like this. Working himself up without your knowledge, seeking relief without your touch. You wondered what he’d been thinking about to even reach that point, what had made him so desperate that he didn’t even think to come find you first.

You slid your hands from his face to grab the pillow he’d used to shield himself. Jisung tensed up as you tugged it out of his hold, but he made no effort to try and stop you, obediently releasing it from his fidgeting fingers. Your heart skipped a beat as his cock sprang back into view, still fully hard and leaking at its tip, practically begging for release after the sudden loss in stimulation. Clearly, Jisung’s embarrassment had done little to ebb his arousal—if anything, it’d only strengthened it.

“Poor baby. So needy with no one around to take care of him,” you pouted, ghosting your hand over his length. “What’s got you like this first thing in the morning?”

It took him a moment to muster up a response, not finding it in him to speak properly when your fingers were dancing mere centimeters over his aching tip, taunting him. “H-had a dream about you.”

“Yeah?” you cooed. “Was I touching you like that?”

A soft noise of frustration met your ears. His gaze was locked on your hand, in a trance. So preoccupied with how badly he longed for you to close the distance that he almost forgot to give a strained nod.

“Cute.” You followed Jisung’s pleading stare to admire his twitching cock, curling your hand playfully around nothing. His breath hitched in his throat, bracing himself for your touch. But it never came. 

Instead, you scooted back, settling comfortably in a spot near the edge of the bed that gave you the perfect view of him—his bewildered face, his ridden up shirt, his dick peeking up from the elastic of his shorts. “Well, don’t let me ruin your fun.”

His mouth fell open, big, anxious eyes darting up to meet yours again. Adorably expressive as ever. You could see every emotion he was feeling written out in the curve of his eyebrows and the repeated parting and closing of his lips as he struggled to make sense of what you were implying.

“Ah…” he chuckled nervously. “What?”

“It must’ve felt good, right? Better than anything I could do,” you teased. “Let me see how my baby plays with himself when I’m not around.”

Your tone was light, but Jisung nearly shuddered all the same, like he couldn’t shake the feeling that some sort of punishment had to be awaiting him. There was a strange, hungry glint in your eyes that added a tinge of apprehension to the excitement fluttering his chest.

Despite himself, he followed through without question, half out of a determination to prove his discipline to you, half out of a pathetic need to relieve the pressure still coiled tight in his abdomen. He brought his hand back to his length, a tiny whine escaping him as he wrapped his fingers around it, handling it with far more timidity than the relentless pace he’d set earlier. He glanced up at you with a hopeful stare to ask for permission, such an obvious attempt to appeal to you that you could’ve laughed. But you simply nodded, encouraging him to start moving.

Tentatively, Jisung began stroking himself, thighs trembling the instant his pleasure picked up where he’d left off. You marveled at the way his cock pulsed in his hand as he pumped it with an amount of delicacy that he wasn’t used to treating himself with, slowly finding his rhythm. Even with his languid strokes, it wasn’t long before soft vocalizations began to build in his throat, heard loud and clear through the bedroom.

“Is that how fast you were going earlier?” you asked. It seemed like an innocent question, but he knew right away what you were really getting at; an order to go faster, to match his feverish speed from before.

“No,” he admitted.

“Don’t hold back, Jisungie,” you urged. “You were so into it before. Do it just like that, make yourself feel so good that you don’t even notice me.”

A breathless, awkward mewl slipped out of him, but he tightened his grip nonetheless. You cooed in approval, growing more aroused with each passing second over the sight of him so flustered, fumbling helplessly with his cock like he’d never touched it before. Any traces of how shameless he could be with you were nowhere to be found, now. No cries for your attention, no sinful expressions on full display, no begging to be adored. It willed you to take things a step further, to make the most of his shyness.

His hushed sounds quickly escalated into less controlled ones, still tinged with that sleepy rasp. His free hand gripped the bedsheets as he picked up the pace of his stroking, a cute, concentrated look forming on his face.

“There we go. Does that feel good, Hannie?”

The boy’s eyebrows furrowed as he slid his thumb along the head of his cock, passing over his wet slit and making his breath stutter. “M-mhm,” he hesitated before continuing. “It’d feel—ah—better if it was you.”

“Yeah?” you cooed. “It could’ve been. All you had to do was come to me like a good boy.”

He whined at that, averting his guilt-ridden gaze. Even with his head ducked, he could still feel you watching him, taking in each flex of his muscles and jolt of his hips. It made the touch of his hand feel completely foreign to him, like the effects of your observant eyes stimulated his nerve endings with a new intensity. You knew well by now that Jisung thrived on your praise more than anything else, but the prospect of talking down to him with no affectionate words to ease the sting was oddly exhilarating to you. You wanted to be a little meaner, to satiate your curiosity. 

“Is this what you do behind my back, baby?” you faked a pout. “Always touching your needy cock ‘cause you can’t even wait for me? Are you that dirty?”

Jisung tensed up, nearly choking in his haste to get his protest out. “No! I’m good, ‘m a good boy.”

His reaction made your spine tingle with satisfaction, enough for you to continue testing the waters. “I thought so too,” you said wistfully. “But now I’m not so sure. What kind of good boy would do something so gross?”

He whimpered. It came unexpectedly louder than the rest of his sweet little sounds, even as the pace of his pumps slowed down significantly. 

“Maybe you were just pretending to be good for me?” You cocked your head to the side. “Maybe you’re really just a little slut who will do anything to get off.”

Your tone took on an unnatural harshness, unlike any of your usual teasing, your familiar, playful lilt that pulled him into a happy haze with each word you spoke. Jisung shuddered. His face turned beet red, half-hearted strokes coming to a full stop. For a brief moment, you thought his reaction was one of enjoyment. But a few seconds passed, and the boy stayed that way—quiet, frozen in place, save for a faint twitch in his lips. 

“Jisung?” you asked cautiously. “Are you okay?”

His spell of silence stretched out longer than you’d anticipated, making alarm rise in your chest. 

“Jisung, what’s your color?” 

There was a newfound urgency to the question, one that he couldn’t ignore no matter how badly he wished he could brush it off, to pretend like he was fine so he wouldn’t disappoint you any further. But you noticed it all without anything said, from his tensed posture to the way his hand quivered as he unwrapped it from around his length. Reluctantly, he lifted his head to look at you, watery gaze coming into view.

“Green,” he said at last. The crack in his voice did little to reassure you—in fact, all it did was shoot your worry through the roof.

“Are you sure?” you pressed. “I need you to be honest with me, baby.”

Jisung’s breathing grew more rapid, heart hammering in his chest for reasons he couldn’t fully explain. It had all felt so good, so right, up until just a moment ago. Now, it was all wrong—he was all wrong. He couldn’t find it in him to be his own comfort, to tell himself that your words held no real weight. He’d upset you, he’d disappointed you, and on top of that he couldn’t even take his punishment properly. The sting in his eyes grew stronger. He’d already let you down by doing something so indecent, he didn’t want to do it again by being too weak to face the consequences. 

Even with Jisung’s face obscured by his messy curtain of hair, you could see the flurry of emotions crossing it, twisting his features, and your heart along with it. He was lying, you were certain of it.

“Hannie,” you softened your voice. The nickname was feather-light on your tongue, enough to soothe the inhibitions that were threatening to take over his mind and force him quiet. “Talk to me. Are you sure?”

Jisung swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat couldn’t be pushed down. You already knew how pathetic he was, anyway. There was no point in denying it.

All at once, the tears that had glazed his wide eyes spilled over. He pulled his knees up to his chest, shrinking into himself, looking smaller than ever. 

“Ah…this is s-so stupid,” he attempted a weak chuckle, but it fell flat into a sob instead, one that made your chest positively ache. “Sorry,” he choked out. “I tried to hold it in, ‘m sorry.”

A wave of guilt crashed over you, flooding all your senses. You rose from your spot slowly to make your way over to Jisung and settle down next to where he was curled up on the bed. It took all of your self-control to push back every protective instinct that told you to pull him into a hug when you saw how fragile he looked, trying and failing to ease himself as he cried into his elbow. Just as you were mulling over whether or not it’d be okay to touch him, he leaned into you like a reflex, and like a reflex, you wrapped your arms securely around him.

“Shh...it’s okay. Don’t apologize, baby,” you did your best to speak steadily, even if the broken sounds that slipped out as he fully let himself go made it difficult to control your voice. “It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong.”

Jisung buried his face into your chest, hot tears seeping through your shirt and churning your stomach with sympathy. “Did...did you really mean that?” he hiccuped, digging his fingers into your clothes. “Am I that gross?”

“No, Jisung, never,” you could barely contain your own distress. Still, you had to stay composed, for his sake. Knowing Jisung, your guilt would feed into his; it would only make him feel worse when he already thought he’d ruined things for you. “I didn’t mean any of it, angel. It was all play.”

“But you’re right, I did something so disgusting behind your back. ‘M so pathetic. Gross,” he babbled, just short of incoherent with the way he was nestled into you. “You shouldn’t t-touch me. I don’t deserve it.”

You made a sound of pure disbelief, tightening your hold around him instead, rocking gently from side to side in an effort to calm him down. Jisung trembled against you as stifled gasps racked his body, but he followed your movements nonetheless, swaying along. “You’re not gross, Hannie. Please don’t believe that for even a second, okay?” You ran your hand up his quivering back to cradle his head, holding him close and massaging his scalp lightly with your fingers. “I went too far today, huh? I’m so sorry.”

“N-no, I’m—” he sniffled out. “Sorry for being like this. So sensitive.”

“You’re not too sensitive,” you murmured. “It’s my fault, baby. I should’ve checked before saying those things to you.”

You continued playing with his hair as he tried to get ahold of himself, feeling a tinge of relief when his breathing grew a little less erratic the more you soothed him, shaky sobs evening out with each inhale. 

“I’m sorry,” he sniffled into your shirt. “Just thought I disappointed you.”

He tensed again, nearly panicking when you loosened your iron grip on his body to pull back and look him in the eye. Your heart broke even further when you saw the state he was in. His eyes—usually so bright—were red and puffy, glassy in a way that was far different from their natural glint. Dried tears stained his face, with fresh ones still brimming in the corners of his eyes and trickling down his cheeks. You wiped them away as tenderly as you could, not wanting to irritate his sensitive skin any further.

“Why did you think that, Hannie?” 

“Cause I—,” he cut himself off with another soft hiccup, still struggling to get his emotions under control. “I messed up and couldn’t even take your scolding.”

“You didn’t disappoint me,” you said firmly. “You’re my good boy. So good you can’t even stand the thought of doing something wrong, right?”

He blinked droplets of tears out of his eyes, looking like he wanted nothing more than to bury his face right back into the comfort of your neck. Even so, he managed a tiny nod. 

“There we go. I love you no matter what. Don’t ever forget that, okay?”

Your gaze bore intently into his, and Jisung forced himself to fight back the remnants of his self-deprecating thoughts before nodding again. “Okay,” he said softly. “I love you, too. So love me lots, please.”

The affection that gripped you nearly made you coo out loud. You pressed a kiss to his head the moment he leaned back into you, hoping to alleviate any leftover doubts he might have. 

“Can I make it up to you?” you whispered. “Wanna show my baby just how loved he is.”

Jisung let out a shy hum, nuzzling his nose into your neck. You weren’t sure what made you giggle more, the ticklish sensation of his soft hair brushing your skin, or how easily his demeanor shifted. Your question had been innocent enough, you’d expected him to want to be held a bit longer, maybe even going to wash up together, but it seemed like he had something else in mind. His lips puckered against your skin in a wet kiss, taking in your scent, then releasing it with a sweet sigh. 

“Just tell me what you want and we can do it,” you promised, petting his head, easing his mind back to that comforting haze with every stroke. “Does that sound good to you?”

“Mhm,” he murmured into you. What he said next was hard to make out with his lips squished against you, not quite ready to pull away. “Can we…go easy?”

The question tugged at your heartstrings. “Of course, we’ll go easy, angel. Anything you want.”

Jisung hesitated before deciding on his answer, still keeping his head tucked away into your shoulder. “Want your strap, please,” he breathed. It fanned out against your skin, making goosebumps rise to its surface. The plea was so different from his usual begging. Not shamelessly needy—but rather, timid and uncertain.

“Yeah? You wanna be spoiled?” You stopped playing with the hair at his nape to brush your index finger along his neck, relishing in how that alone was enough to make him shudder against you. “Good boys like you deserve to be treated good, too.”

It was Jisung’s turn to giggle, tinged with the slightest whine. You couldn’t deny the relief you felt hearing that familiar sound again. Reluctantly, he unlatched himself from you at last, already craving to feel your warmth again the instant you slipped off the bed. 

“I’ll be right back, okay? Get yourself ready for me.”

Jisung nodded eagerly, some of the liveliness returning to his red eyes. You ruffled his hair, then headed towards your closet, pushing away the final traces of guilt from your mind and replacing them with a determination to make it up to him instead. As you rummaged through your belongings to retrieve your strap-on, it wasn’t long before soft, needy whimpers began to reach you from the bedroom, even sweeter than when you’d first caught him, completely unrestrained this time. As much as they set off a fire in you, you remained patient, taking your time in preparing the toy while his noises grew progressively louder.

Then, a call of your name met your ears. So raspy with need, so weak with desperation, it made your core clench. You tried not to rush yourself, but your composure effectively crumbled when you heard Jisung cry out for you again, loud and clear through the wall. You could’ve laughed—he knew exactly what he was doing, but you were content to let it work, today. With a deep breath, you gathered up your things and returned to the other room.

There, you found Jisung with his shorts completely discarded and his legs spread out, pushing two fingers—slick with the lube he’d taken from the nightstand—in and out of himself obediently. The sight, coupled with the wet sounds each sloppy, uncoordinated pump of his hand created, was enough to cloud your mind entirely with arousal all over again. He looked so perfect, like it was exactly where he belonged; parting his thighs wider as soon as he spotted you, giving you a full view of how well he was fucking himself open for you.

You adjusted the strap’s harness around your waist and settled in between Jisung’s thighs. He pulled his fingers out of himself with a low keen, doe eyes gazing up at you intently as you took over for him, lathering your fingers with lube to slip them inside his twitching hole. A gasp caught in his throat as you did, your angle allowing you to reach even deeper inside of him than his own fingers could, loosening him up further. He tightened around you instantly, sucking you in like his body was begging for anything it could get.

“Look at that,” you gave an appreciative hum. “Already stretched out so perfectly for me. Good boy.”

Jisung barely had the chance to react before you spread your fingers out in a scissor-like motion a few times, sending sparks through his body each time you pressed into his walls. Then, you pulled out of him all at once, leaving him squirming and fluttering around nothing. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help his whine of disappointment, even when he knew what was to come. You gave his nose an affectionate tap with your clean hand before squeezing some lube onto your palm, spreading it along the length of your strap-on until it was thoroughly coated.

“Get comfortable, baby,” you ordered gently. 

There was a brief pause as Jisung propped himself up on his elbows, and you faltered for a moment, wondering if he might have changed his mind. He pressed his lips together like he was lost in thought, cheeks squishing adorably in the process.

“Ah, do you think...” he cut himself off with that cute, breathy laugh of his. “Can I—?” Another chuckle. “Can I ride you?”

The sheepish question came as a surprise to you, as did the sharp tingle it sent down your spine. You quirked an eyebrow, barely fighting back your smile when Jisung shied away, bangs falling into his eyes. “I wanna show you what I can do,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Wanna be your good boy.”

“Jisungie,” you sang, tilting his chin up to make sure your words got through to him. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. You’re already my best boy, let me treat you like it.”

His eyes gleamed, but even as your praise eased his anxious mind, his resolve still didn’t waver. He needed this, you realized. His gaze searched yours for some sign of approval—so hopeful, so hungry, it was all it took for you to understand. 

“But...if that’s what my baby wants, then of course you can.” 

Jisung perked up at that, every soft, sleepy feature on his face brightening back up. “Thank you!” he chirped. “I’ll be good, I swear!”

You weren’t sure if it was his pure earnesty, or that infectious, heart-shaped grin, but you couldn’t hold back a smile of your own. It was impossible not to be overtaken with fondness, not when he was so grateful for just the chance to have your eyes on him as he ruined himself, all without you having to lift a finger. Shifting from your spot on the mattress, you settled back against the headboard of the bed, patting your thighs to beckon him over. He wasted no time before scrambling into your lap, straddling you so that he hovered mere centimeters above the toy’s head. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” you told him, taking the shaft into your hand to line it up with his entrance. “You’ll take it all, won’t you? Just like your pretty hole took my fingers so well.”

Jisung shuddered as you swirled your strap’s slick tip around his rim, bracing himself with a deep inhale before sinking down on it. His breath spilled out in a long, shaky moan as you filled him up bit by bit, his walls instantly tightening around the delicious thickness he’d been aching for. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip, willing himself to push against the friction until every last inch of the toy had disappeared inside of him.

“That’s it, Hannie. Good boy, you make it look so easy.”

Your sweet whispers made it difficult for Jisung to control his breathing as he adjusted to the sensation of being filled to the brim. All he could manage was a weak gasp in response, eyes squeezing shut and insides clenching wildly. Your hands found their way to his hips, sliding your fingers along his tan skin to help soothe him while you waited, once again blown away by how ridiculously small his waist was.

“Pretty boy,” you hummed. Unable to resist, you pressed the pads of your thumbs deep into his flesh, delighted by the way his stomach contracted. “You look so perfect like this, just made to be filled up.”

The boy let out a flustered squeak, hands flying up to cover his face. It was almost amusing how much of a contrast there was in how Jisung vied for your compliments versus how he responded to them. There was no need for false bravado here, no need to fulfill any role when he was already the subject of your adoration. 

He squirmed above you slightly, letting out a tiny grunt as the ridges of your strap pressed snugly against his walls. When he finally collected himself enough to speak, his voice came meek, muffled by his palms. “C-can I move?” 

“Mm,” you urged, giving his waist another squeeze. “Show me how a good boy does it, Hannie.”

His hands dropped reluctantly from his flushed face and down to your shoulders, gripping them tight to steady himself. With a huff of effort, he lifted his body off your lap, sliding tortuously slow up the toy’s length before landing back down with a sharp smack. He relished in the relief it brought him for a moment before repeating the action, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to find his rhythm.

Jisung’s moans began slipping out of him in no time, rising in pitch and volume each time he sank down all the way to your strap’s hilt, building up a delicious pressure in your core. You ran your hands up and down his sides, feeling up his slender waist and stomach, puffing out with every gasp. “Are you feeling good, baby boy?” 

Jisung dug his fingernails into your skin with a whimper, already finding it difficult to string together a coherent sentence. “Yes—ngh—so good,” he choked out. “So full.”

“Cause you’re taking it all so well. Every inch of me,” you praised. “Keep moving just like that, angel. I wanna see your cute little face when you cum all over yourself.”

Jisung mewled out your name, whether it was in shy protest of your words or a plea for more, even he wasn’t sure. You tightened your hold on his waist, hands following his every bounce to help keep him from faltering. The sight of him rocking his hips against yours was nothing short of breathtaking—small beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, tousled hair bouncing cutely, tongue peeking out between his swelling lips. His cock left drops of precum all over his skin each time it slapped against his stomach, crying for release after being denied for so long.

You could tell Jisung’s movements were starting to take a toll on him. He grasped frantically at your shoulders for purchase, trying his best to stay grounded just long enough to bring himself to a climax. His thighs began to tremble, pace growing sloppy both from the repeated strain on his muscles, and from the pleasure making it increasingly difficult for him to focus. You decided to help him out when you caught the frustrated pout forming on his face, lifting yourself to push into him with a newfound force and making him cry out sharply. 

“It’s getting rough, huh, baby? Hannie’s working so hard for me. Such a good boy.”

“Hah...th-thank you,” Jisung swallowed down the saliva pooling in his mouth before it could trickle out, leaning in to slump his body against yours, no longer able to stay upright on his own. “Your good boy, ‘m your g’boy. Again. Say it—ah—again, please.”

You softened, indulging him without hesitation when you knew how badly he needed to hear it. “Good boy, Jisungie. My good boy.”

“Yours. Wanna be good for y-you.” He threw his head back suddenly as you hit a perfectly angled thrust. “There!” he gasped, voice cracking into a near-wail. “Right there, please, please, please.”

“There?” you echoed in amusement when he could only writhe around pathetically, all sense of rhythm lost. Your giggle masked just how much it affected you to see him falling apart in your lap like that—his blissed out face, his shameless moans, all tightening the coil in your stomach like his own pleasure was feeding into yours. “You like it there? Keep it up, then, baby.”

Amidst all his begging, your words pierced through Jisung’s foggy brain. They seemed to remind him that he still had some shred of control over the pace, because he picked up the speed of his bouncing again, rolling his body sinfully each time you bottomed out inside him so that your strap grinded against his prostate just right. 

“You fucked yourself into such a cute little mess,” you crooned. Jisung whined above you, too far gone to decide if he should hide away from your attention, or bask in it. “Such a little pleaser. You like putting on a show for me?”

You tilted your hips so that your strap brushed against his sweet spot once more, earning a long drawn-out groan from the boy. His mouth hung open, tongue lolling as sound after filthy sound poured out of him nonstop. “Love it...hah...love it s’ much. Watch me, look at me, please.”

His head began thrashing from side to side, the muscles in his stomach clenching and unclenching as his high crept up on him. You hissed softly when he sank his fingernails deep into your flesh, so caught up in his fit of pleasure that he didn’t even process his how hard he was gripping you. All he could make sense of anymore was the heat that seared through his abdomen each time he sank down on your strap. 

“You’re so good, baby. So good for me. Are you close?” you purred, rubbing small circles into his hips with your thumbs. Your voice was so gentle in contrast to the harsh smacking of his thighs against yours, it made him dizzy. 

“Ah, yeah, yeah. Gonna cum. P-please, ‘m so close. Please—” 

You jerked up to meet him halfway, burying your strap so deep inside him that he swore he saw stars. “Cum for me, baby boy. You’ve earned it.” 

You took his bouncing cock into your grasp, feeling it throb in your palm as you began to stroke him. With just a few glides of your hand, Jisung was sent over the edge. He let out a choked sob as his orgasm hit him at last, his seed shooting onto his stomach in hot spurts, more intensely than usual after being pent up for so long. You milked him through his high, admiring the way the white ropes of cum decorated his tan skin as you pumped out every drop.

Jisung panted heavily above you, jaw still slack, quivering in place as the aftershocks rippled through his body. When the last of his seed had dribbled out from his tip, you carefully released his length from your hold, allowing it to fall limp. The rise and fall of his chest gradually began to slow, and he leaned into your hand the instant you rested it on his cheek, regardless of the fluids coating it. Your touch washed away the last of the hot adrenaline pumping through his system, replacing it with an overwhelming sense of calm; safety. 

“My Hannie,” you murmured. “My sweet boy. You did so well for me.”

Jisung’s eyes fluttered open at last, still a bit hazy, but just as full of adoration for you as your gaze was for him. He managed a lazy, lopsided grin before collapsing forward to nuzzle into you, pressing his nose to your neck and breathing in. With your warmth enveloping him, your scent surrounding him, and the fullness of your strap still nestled inside him, you knew as well as he did that there was no chance of him getting up any time soon. The sticky feeling of his release seeping through your clothes was uncomfortable, but you wrapped your arms around him nonetheless. It was worth all the clean laundry in the world, to hold him like this.

Jisung pressed his lips against your neck in a chaste kiss, catching you by surprise. When he pulled his head back with a sigh of pure bliss, that familiar gleam was back in his eyes, and you knew that he had fully recovered from earlier.

You leaned forward to give him a kiss of your own, smiling into it when you heard the faint sound of his stomach growling, followed by a cute, muffled giggle of embarrassment spilling from his mouth to yours.

“By the way,” you brushed your lips against his. “I made breakfast.”

[delucat]

25 Questions About Bloody Painter

1. Birthday? Height? Physique?

Born on October 1, 1980, under the Libra sign.

In the current storyline, he's about 26 years old.

He stands 178 cm tall with a well-built physique.

2. Favorite food and drink?

He loves sweets and cocoa; basically, he enjoys all kinds of chocolate.

In all official works, the brown drink you see him consuming is not coffee but cocoa.

3. What kind of scent does he have?

He uses perfume to mask the smell of formalin used in specimen preparation or the rusty smell of blood.

His preferred scent is oceanic.

4. His MBTI?

INTJ.

5. Preferred clothing style?

He likes simple and sleek outfits, often wearing colors in calm tones.

Also, the blue jacket he usually wears isn’t a trench coat; it’s a suit jacket.

6. Does he smoke or drink?

He doesn't smoke or drink because he finds the smell of smoke pungent and dislikes the bitter taste of alcohol.

If he has to drink, he prefers fruity soda-like alcohol or sweet cocktails that barely taste like alcohol (he has childlike taste preferences). His alcohol tolerance is average.

7. Does he listen to music? What genre?

He listens to almost anything and becomes particularly interested in music with unique styles from an artistic appreciation standpoint.

8. How does he kill?

He's a clean freak and dislikes making a mess at crime scenes.

His methods focus on easy cleanup, avoiding unnecessary torture of his victims.

9. Does he cook for himself? What type of dishes does he usually make?

He’s good at household chores and can prepare common Western dishes.

10. Favorite color?

Blue.

11. Does he watch TV shows or movies? What genres does he like?

Yes, he enjoys anything with innovative themes or visual techniques.

However, he dislikes romance dramas because he can't understand or relate to love, which makes them boring for him.

12. Is he a light or heavy sleeper?

He’s a night owl and a light sleeper, which causes his prominent dark circles.

13. When does he wear gloves?

He only wears gloves when handling objects or when he doesn’t want to leave fingerprints.

14. Preferred medium for painting?

For his public art, he prefers oil paints for oil paintings.

As for those darker pieces, he might mix in victims' blood or other substances.

15. Does he smile when he’s in a good mood?

Yes, but it’s rare for anyone to see it. Also, when he’s shy, he tries to hide his emotions by looking away, but his flushed cheeks and ears give him away.

16. Regarding character pairings?

In the 2018 version update, all pairings with other authors' OCs were removed to keep his story realistic. He is currently single.

However, fans are free to create any pairings in their fanworks.

17. Defining trait?

Selfishness.

18. Sexual orientation?

He identifies as agender, meaning he doesn’t feel tied to any particular gender. His attraction to others is based purely on his mood and feelings.

To put it simply, he doesn’t care about gender.

Also, agender ≠ asexual; he still has sexual desires but finds it difficult to develop intimate relationships due to his cautious nature (which likely means he's still a virgin).

19. In terms of intimacy?

He behaves gently and gentlemanly, but he has a deep-seated violent streak.

If his partner consents, he may become more dominant and leave marks, enjoying the sense of control.

20. Does he have possessiveness towards his partner?

Yes, but he respects his partner, so he wouldn’t try to control or limit them.

However, it’s clear when he’s jealous!

21. What was his childhood like?

He suffered severe mental abuse from his controlling mother, leaving him psychologically shattered, though his body bears no signs of physical abuse.

For more details, refer to the 2018 version story animation: https://youtu.be/AaHgY62-ggI

22. Would he make a good father?

Since he never experienced a normal family life, he doesn’t believe he would be a good father and doesn’t aspire to become one.

He thinks, "The world doesn’t need another me." However, he would make a great older brother or mentor.

23. Ethnicity and nationality?

The official story doesn’t specify his nationality, but he is ethnically white.

24. Is he really afraid of cockroaches?

He’s not afraid of insects and even makes insect specimens.

His fear of cockroaches stems more from his germaphobia than the insect itself, as he perceives them as dirty creatures.

25. Any other tidbits?

● He values manners, so he avoids cursing. Still, in moments of stress, he might accidentally let out a quiet curse. 

● When he’s alone and relaxed or happy, he hums to himself.

=================================== 

Do you have any more questions about Bloody Painter?

Feel free to ask in the comments, and I’ll reply when I have time!

[ohisms]

↪ ✧ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐋 ( based on the oracle deck created by fez inkwright. each card represents an archetypal 'character' who resides in the citadel. send these as prompts for inspiring starters , or use them for drabbles ! feel free to combine prompts where desired . SEND A " ✧ " FOR RECIEVER TO RANDOMIZE A CARD ! )

𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓 , - the aspirant : ambition, diligence, setbacks. - the assassin : ruthlessness, conviction. - the catalyst : radical changes, taking control. - the diviner : divine timing, evaluation. - the fate : accepting help, guidance. - the founder : foundations, community. - the heir : unseen potential, hesitation. - the hound : loyalty, chains, promises. - the king : control, reversal of fortune. - the poet : relationships, vulnerability. - the queen : determination, sacrifice. - the sleeper : cause and effect, clarity. - the spymaster : knowledge, distrust. - the waker : awareness, reflection. - the wise one : tradition, order.

𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐘 , - the acolyte : new projects, learning. - the alchemist : balance, invention, destruction. - the archer : biding your time, planning ahead. - the astronomer : discovery, augury. - the captain : taking command, teamwork. - the cartographer : a crossroads, exploration. - the champion : achievement, downfall. - the enchanter : deception, trickery. - the guide : inheritance, correction. - the orator : communication, confidence. - the patron : mentorship, finances. - the priest : perseverance, faith. - the scholar : investigation, research. - the sentinel : determination, certainty. - the warrior : perfectionism, burnout.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐃 , - the botanist : parenthood, legacy. - the forgotten : missed opportunities, fear of failure. - the gambler : loss, risks. - the hunter : surefootedness , predestination. - the merchant : self-worth, trade. - the miser : stubbornness, inflexibility. - the muse : generosity, naivety. - the pathless : difficult decisions, lack of direction. - the pilgrim : opportunities, growth. - the sailor : new influences, wanderlust. - the shepherd : celebration, family. - the smith : overthinking, taking action. - the thief : seizing the moment, selfishness. - the vengeance : overcoming sleights, a choice. - the walker : the unknown, the journey.

𝐈𝐕. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐄 , - the adventurer : responsibility, expectations. - the brawler : lack of empathy, confrontation. - the chiromancer : delivering news, collaboration. - the dancer : self-expression, strength. - the herald : small regrets, longing. - the mascareri : hiding your true self, projection. - the musician : inspiration, gratitude. - the painter : productivity, creation. - the puppeteer : explanations, apologies. - the runaway : secrets, running away from problems. - the storyteller : viewpoints, control. - the tailor : attention to detail, pride. - the twins : self-protection, dual natures. - the weaver : rediscovery, transition. - the witch : experimentation, rebellion.

[incoherentmorals]

soft! joel miller x fem reader

warnings ? fluff, slightly angsty, outbreak au, joel and reader just want to live in a nice house and adopt ellie, they're just soft parents tbh, no smut, henry and sam are here !! but just briefly mentioned, joel opens up kinda

the remnants of today settle in your bones as you lay on the cold floor, using your backpack as a pillow. in the distance you can hear joel and henry doing the same, probably feeling as exhausted as you are. the hope within you isn't entirely gone; henry says he knows a way and ellie is happy to currently have a new friend— sam’s a great kid.

you can feel your eyelids growing heavy while you think about the previous days and what needs to be done in the ones that will soon come. find supplies to keep the trip going, reach the desired destination and hand ellie over ... that last task is what keeps you up most nights but not tonight.

before you know it, sleep wins over you and you fall fast asleep.

joel’s eyes are on you from where he's supposedly sleeping. he stares at your back, the way your body moves as you breathe and he sits up.

it hasn't been smooth these past few days, not at all, and your last conversation wasn't peachy either. you would always argue about ellie’s situation and how dangerous it was to hand her over to some complete strangers — and before he used the we're strangers too card, you would tell him to fuck off. you were right of course; the three of you had been travelling together for months so he'd be a big hypocrite to say that he didn't feel that familial bond tugging at his gut.

he checks around making sure that henry is fast asleep and the door to the kids’ room is properly shut. after that he proceeds to drop his backpack next to yours before laying by your side.

you're not exactly a light sleeper but nonetheless you can feel the shift behind you, the sudden change that you're not alone anymore.

“hm?” you turn around slowly until you're facing joel in a proper manner.

joel doesn't reply, doesn't even bother to be vocal at that moment. he simply stares at you and although his face is peaceful, you can tell his mind is at war. all it takes is for you to raise your hand and cup his cheek softly for the fight in joel’s mind to cease.

you watch as his eyes close and you wait, your fingers brushing back and forth over his cheek.

when joel opens his eyes again, they're glassy, and the realization that he trusts you enough to cry in front of you finally dawns.

“I don't want to let this go.” you hear him whisper and you shuffle closer to him, just enough to hear better.

your fingers slide from his jaw up to the back of his ear and you repeat the motion often. it is soothing for him, you realize.

“me neither.” you mumble and you can tell that he appreciates how thoughtful you're being with the distance — you just *know* he needs enough space to breathe. to not feel confined.

“joel.” your voice grounds him to reality, to light. he keeps his eyes on you as you speak and tries to focus on the sound of your gentle voice. “whatever happens in the end, whatever you choose to do...I will follow you.” his heart clenches a little at your loyalty — it's been a while since he felt this way. probably since tess.

“I promised her.” he says with saddened eyes.

“You can't save everyone.” you reply.

“But ellie can.” joel’s answer silences you both for a moment until those selfish words leave your lips.

“Maybe they don't deserve to be saved.” and while tess would beg to differ, joel wholeheartedly agrees with you. not everyone deserves to be saved.

the night is spent with silent eye contact and the soft brush of your fingers against joel’s face. he eventually places his hand over yours and compares the sizes of your palms — his is simply gigantic compared to yours, or anyone's you've known for that matter.

“What’s that about people telling you your fortune through your veins?” joel asks randomly and you will yourself not to laugh.

“You mean the palm of your hand, old man?” both of you grin and it suddenly feels like another fun pre-apocalyptic thursday.

it is probably an hour later when joel manages to fall asleep with your hand in his, your fingers tightly intertwined.

you've never seen him so peaceful; never witnessed him sleep the way he does now since forever. your heart and mind race because joel’s expression,when he's around you, starts giving off a single feeling. comfort.

you think about stuff again; joel’s and ellie’s dreams after the apocalypse, your dreams, a better world. your mind wanders a million miles but it always comes back to one thing only. the image of a humble house filled with yourself and two other people. that gruff voice and that ashy wave of hair, and then that brownish spark with the most adorable eyes.

it’s a silly thought to want to be a mother to a kid that isn't your own, you think while staring towards the door where sam and ellie are probably sleeping.

it's as silly to consider filling that void in your heart by the side of a worn out man, you think again and your eyes trace joel's face this time. you bring your intertwined hands to your lips and you mindlessly kiss his knuckles, watching as he doesn't stir at all.

despite the sadness tugging at your heartstrings and the bittersweet feeling of ‘dreams just being dreams’ you close your eyes and allow yourself a moment of clarity and of hope.

because maybe things will change, maybe you will not have to wait for the next life to have the family that you want.

[harmonictechnicality]

Steve wakes up around three or four in the morning almost every night. He’s always careful getting out of bed. Small movements, slow footsteps. Minimal bones cracking. Doesn’t want to wake Eddie. Not that he needs to be this careful because his boyfriend could sleep through several natural disasters (and if someone bothered to wake him in this scenario, he’d put an impotency curse on them or some equally fucked-up shit). 

But that’s one of the reasons why they work. Not because of the sad-dick curse thing. They just exist on different sides of the scale. The raging insomniac and the deepest sleeper known to mankind. It balances out in the weirdest possible way.

Still… he’s always careful. Can never be too careful.

Steve doesn’t really do much when he wakes up at this ungodly hour. He sort of walks around their duplex, drinks a glass of water, opens a window to breathe in that pre-sunrise air. It fills his lungs up differently than normal air. At least, it feels like it does.

Like less people are breathing it in. Like he can take up space without feeling selfish. The logic doesn’t really add up but whatever. Concepts like logic and science are overrated at four in the morning.

After another lap around the place, he slides back into the covers, drapes an arm over Eddie’s waist. His t-shirt is rumpled up to his chest, so Steve is met with linen-warm skin. His fingers curve into Eddie’s sides, pulling himself closer. 

Steve yawns, breathing out all of his pre-sunrise air. Inhales the scent of his boyfriend instead. Smiles like an idiot into the pillow because it’s totally a fair trade.

And Eddie… well, he doesn’t even budge - doesn’t even stir when Steve settles in next to him. He just continues to wheeze through his nose, mouth slightly open. Not quite a snore, but Steve will probably tease him about it in the morning regardless. 

This right here. This makes Steve’s shitty sleep cycle worth it.

The sun pokes through the window blinds. Eddie pokes Steve’s cheek. Too much poking going on for Steve who definitely didn’t get enough sleep, per usual.

“You got up last night.” Eddie mumbles, still lazily poking him. 

“How’d you know?”

“Bed felt different.”

Oh. The way Eddie says it. A crash of honesty. His voice sounds weathered, unused from sleeping. Barely awake. It sort of hits Steve’s heart like a crime he didn’t even know he was capable of committing. 

Honestly, he doesn’t get why last night would be any different. Steve gets up most nights, not just last night. But Eddie looks particularly wounded by this (new) realization, so Steve probably shouldn’t point that out right now. Maybe in the afternoon when Eddie is more alert. Less… offended.

“Well, I’m back now.” Steve grabs Eddie’s index finger, the one poking him, and places it over his own lips. Bites at it gently till Eddie pulls away in protest. He’s smiling as he swears. Lets out a string of half-hearted threats about how he’s gonna pour Steve’s hair supplies down the sink for such a vicious attack. 

It’s a little irresistible when Eddie gets like this. When he’s the pouty one instead of Steve. All he can think to do is reach out, curl his hand underneath Eddie’s chin and pull him in. Eddie moves so easily, gives up his one-sided fight long enough to kiss Steve. Hands running up his back, legs hooking around Steve’s thighs.

Drowsy, morning kisses are so good. So, so good. Their lips feel heavier, their motions feel thicker. Every touch is guided by pure need. Steve fucking needs this, to feel Eddie curving into him, arms framing his own, groaning every damn time they break away. It all makes Steve feel needed too. Needed by the guy who changed the trajectory of his life by asking Steve to ‘hang out or something’ two years ago. 

Or Something turned out to be absolutely everything.

“New rule.” Eddie huffs, drags his lips down Steve’s jaw. “For every hour you spend awake during the night, you owe me.”

Steve laughs. “I owe you, huh?”

“Mhmm. You owe me an extra hour of wallowing in bed together in the morning.”

“What about work?”

“The hours will have to rollover, I guess. Accrue interest.” Eddie lifts up from Steve’s neck, eyebrows raised. Clearly having too much fun with this. “We can hash out the details over coffee and burnt toast.”

Typically, Steve would play along, continue the little comedy routine that Eddie starts up. But he’s so damn tired from the lack of sleep and early fucking wake-up call. So instead, he tugs Eddie back down by his collar and whispers, “Whatever you say, baby.”

Because that’s what it boils down to. He’d do anything for Eddie to kiss him this deep, till their lips blister and their jaws ache. Steve would give every fragment of lovesick happiness in his heart, just to hear the way Eddie says his name all breathy and raw. 

He can’t say that out loud, dear god no. Eddie would mock his ass into next century. So Steve just hums into Eddie’s mouth, twists the collar of his shirt enough to permanently wrinkle it. They’re verging into that gray area between cable-approved makeout sessions and dry humping till the alarm goes off. If there wasn’t an alarm to worry about, Steve would already have Eddie’s boxers already his ankles and moaning his name the way he likes it best.

Whoever invented alarm clocks are the ultimate boner-killer.

Steve ducks his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck, lays a few quick kisses on top of his shoulder. Hopes that translates to, ‘I wanna suck you off till there’s nothing left, but I’m a boring fucking adult with a boring fucking job.’ 

The translation must be clear enough because Eddie rolls off of him and heads to the bathroom. Seems just as grumpy about it as Steve. Good. They can be cranky together.

When he comes back out, they get ready for their respective work shifts. Steve looks over, watches Eddie struggle with a tangled portion of his hair, before giving up.  Accepting defeat way faster than Steve ever would. “Uh, Eddie?” He tries his best to hide his snickering through the question.

“Yeah?”

“Why does it matter if I wake up sometimes?” Okay. Most times.

“You’re gone.” Eddie shrugs. “Simple as that.”

The reaction is too mellow for Eddie though. Shrugging and dismissiveness? Nah. He’s downplaying the shit out of whatever he’s feeling, and Steve’s not having it.

“What do you mean it’s simple?”

“It’s just… I don’t know. Doesn’t seem fair.” Eddie checks the clock, then sighs. “I want more time.”

More time? More time with Steve or more time in general? Either way, it doesn’t add up. They’re young - they have all the fucking time they could ever want. Also, they live together and have all the same friends. It’s not exactly a logical theory.

Then again, neither is Steve’s ‘pre-sunrise air supply’ theory. None of it makes sense. But at least they’re here. Wanting fresh air and each other. That’s enough logic for a lifetime.

“Hey.” Steve walks over and takes Eddie’s hand. He taps over his ring finger, the one that symbolizes something they can’t have. Not now, not in this society. Still. It means something. So he stares intently at it, rubs over the place where a ring might sit. Thinks that Eddie would pick out something bold. Something gaudy and perfectly him.

More time. Steve gets it, he does. He releases Eddie’s hand and nods. Smiles.

“I’ll steal us as much time as I can, Eddie Munson.”

[jaeyong-sucker]

monster

pairing: lee jeno x male reader

genre: smut (i mean what else lmao)

warnings: monster under the bed!jeno x male reader, unprotected sex, rough sex, blowjobs, face fucking, anilingus, posssessiveness, breeding, mention of blood

note: its my first time writing something in a looooong while and i honestly forgot how to write lol forgive the rusty writing... not proofread TT... basically it's male reader and jeno fucking like rabbits since they have the whole place to themselves

your roommate has already boarded the bus. the symbolic angel on your shoulder berates you for just watching him carry the luggage that can almost engulf him while the demon cheers you on for being selfish and following the throbbing feeling between your legs. finally, you have the whole room to yourself and you find yourself thanking the chancellor for approving a two week break from your university. you don't remember the last time you spoke to the

“has he already left?” you feel its hot breath graze your neck as its scaly claws caress your waist. a blush crept up your cheeks as you hear its voice again after god knows how long. 

“we have the whole room to ourselves now.” you turn around and nuzzle its hairy chest. it's the same warm chest you've known since fifteen years ago. 

you were no stranger to loneliness. it was with you as early as the age of three when the kids in the park deliberately ignored you and has introduced you to the feeling of being invisible despite being present at the moment. it was there when your whole family went on a trip to london thinking everyone is present when they didn't even bother waking up the middle child (you). it followed you like a shadow from kindergarten up to college. 

but there was jeno. or that was what you liked to call it. It started with the scratching noises under your bed that kept you awake at night. you thought it was just your older brother doing whatever stupid thing he thought of in the middle of the night. but then, he sleeps early and is a heavy sleeper at that. curiosity kicks in and you recall the stories your teacher told you about monsters lingering under your bed. now was the time to test it out. 

gently kneeling to the floor and crouching low enough to see the bottom of the bed, you took a flashlight with the purpose of finding the monster. you didn't need the flashlight to see the faint, glowing eyes staring back at you. you froze. the scream you were about to let out got stuck in your throat. your pulse quickened as you stopped breathing. somehow, you were able to see its long arms that has scales, its claws that looked like it could kill you by one simple scratch, its dark, hairy body and scaly legs and tail. there is a monster! 

kids your age would surely scream at the sight of the grotesque creature but somehow, you don't find yourself scared of this unknown being. rather, a warmth rises on your chest and you feel oddly calmed by the monster's presence. the initial fear turned into fascination. maybe you weren't alone. 

“i’m y/n.” you whisper before extending your hand for the monster to shake. the monster just stares back for god knows how long before extending its scaly hand and lets out a low grunt as if to acknowledge your presence. the warmth of the gesture made up for its cold hands. you find yourself smiling at the newfound connection as you squeeze the monster's cold hands. 

“i’ll call you jeno.”

since that night, you crouch down on the floor to talk to the monster about your day. whether it be receiving a long lecture about being good from your parents or the bullies at school stealing your lunch. the monster didn't seem to be annoyed at your endless yapping. well, it did release a low sound every time you said something just like how a normal person would nod if someone said something to them. you would even hand it a plate of cookies which he wouldn't touch as you talk, but would be empty by the time you wake up in the morning. 

he was your only friend and you didn't bother making other friends at school. you know you wouldn't fit in anyway. you cam home one time and found a kid looking like your age sitting on your bed. the boy was handsome, dashing. he smiles at you that his eyes turn into crescents. maybe this is how the other kids whenever they saw their “crush” or something like that. that was when you discovered jeno could shapeshift into humanㅡor anything else, who knows?ㅡand this sweet feeling of having a crush. you grew up with jeno as your only friend every evening that he even followed you when you moved into a dorm for college. 

jeno morphed into his human form. you don't know what happened but you were sure he'd gone shameless after knowing how your dick worked when you were in puberty. in your childhood years, he would transform into a boy with clothes on. when you were in your teens, he would appear shirtless, which made you look at his defined muscles in his upper body. later, he would appear just in boxers or wearing nothing at all. 

just like right now. he smiles at you like a puppy as if he isn't aware of the effect his bare body has on you. he smiles as if he weren't aware of the tent forming in your pants as he flexes his abdomen and chest muscles and twitches his hanging cock. 

wordlessly, he carries you to your bed before laying you down gently on the soft mattress. he pulls away your clothes and underwear before joining beside you. jeno stretches out his arm, which you use as a pillow, before pulling you closer by your waist. you find yourself burying your face to the warmth of jeno’s muscled chest as your hands roam in the expanse of his muscled abdomen. 

you softly moan at the familiar comfort cuddling with jeno brings. this must be the feeling of highschool love. being elated and giggly and flustered and the simplest of jeno's touches. you don't care that you feel ugly with your messy hair and your bloated body. jeno was always there to assure you that you're the prettiest. one of his favorite things to do is planting kisses on your forehead, which makes you feel safe and cared for. 

“i miss laying next to you,” you whisper before cupping his cheeks and kissing his soft lips. 

“you’ll be sleeping next to me for the next two weeks or so,” he smiles back and presses a kiss to your temple. he carefully lays on his back before pulling you up on his chest. gazing softly at your features, he cups your cheeks and kisses the top of your head. “you are so beautiful, baby,” his low, adoring voice sends butterflies churning in your stomach. “i won't get tired looking at your pretty face, princess.” 

princess. princess. he knows what he's doing when he says that word accompanied by kisses all over your face and his hands caressing your sides. he sits up and pulls you on his lap before kissing your neck while his hands finds their place on your taut nipples. his actions draw out a long moan from you. when was the last time he has touched you like this? he finds that sweet spot on your neck before assaulting it with kisses. there it goes. there goes the sticky liquid oozing from your dick in response to jeno’s kisses. 

your dick stands firm next to his semi-erect one. he kisses and sucks your nipples adding up to your arousal. grunting from impatience, you pull his hair before slamming your lips to his. immediately, jeno responds, curling his tongue with yours and groping your ass. he grips the back of your head as he inserts his tongue in your mouth, dominating the kiss like he usually does. he bites your lip before slurping your tongue like he's never kissed you in years, making the kiss sloppy and messy, drool coating your lips and dripping down your chins. 

your hand reaches down, grabbing his throbbing cock that got significantly harder and bigger the moment your lips met, although his cock hasn't reached its full erection. he releases a deep moan as you wrap your hand around it and give slow strokes on the cockhead. moaning from pleasure, he grinds against your hand before inserting a few fingers inside your hole. 

jeno pulls away from the kiss before attacking your chest with bites and kisses. he smirks as you moan loudly as he hits that sweet prostate with his fingers. he ups your arousal by biting and kissing your nipples. 

“jeno,” you moan shamelessly while stroking his cock harder and faster that it grows bigger and harder from your touch. he curses loudly as you wrap a hand around the glans before playing with the slit with your thumb. jeno loves it when you give his cock your special attention. especially when you toy at the tip and draw the precum out by playing with the slit. he leans back at the headboard, cursing and grunting and moaning in carnal bliss as you play with the tip with one hand and stroke his huge length with the other. 

“suck me,” he orders and you wasted no minute getting down on your knees before wrapping your lips around his tip. you spit on his cock, lathering it with so much drool that it's nasty. just how jeno fucking loves it. you pull away shortly to admire jeno’s huge cock that is almost as big as your forearm and is so veiny. you softly lick the veins that his cock twitches and leaks desperately. not wanting to waste any time teasing, you immediately bob your head over his enormous length that it draws a delicious “fuuucccck,” from him. his hand finds itself in your locks before pressing your head down to take all of his length. instantly, you grab on his meaty thighs as you feel his hips thrust into your face. 

jeno has never fucked your throat so deep that you could feel it poking your stomach. he fucks your face so rough. so rough that you feel his carnal desires. so rough that your jaw might fall off. “fuck, your mouth feels fucking amazing,” he whimpers as he penetrates your throat deeper, reaching new depths as if having your nose harshly pressed against the patch of hair on jeno’s crotch wasn't already deep enough. still, you bob your head to please jeno even if his cock assaults the walls of your throat. you want to make him feel good after all. 

chest heaving and sweat trickling his body, jeno pulls you away from his cock before making you sit on his face. he wastes no time lapping and feasting around your tight hole like a hungry beast. jeno lands a harsh slap on your butt cheek before wiggling his tongue around the rim of your hole. eager to taste your ass, jeno grips both cheeks, spreads them apart before pressing his face in your ass before ravaging it. 

legs trembling, you squeal out shamelessly, “more, jeno, please,” before leaning forward to suck off his angry cock. jeno eats you out so deep, so good that you feel his tongue toying with your prostate as his thumbs insert themselves inside your hole, stretching you apart. you suck him off desperately, gagging nastily as his cock hits the back of your throat. the delicious taste of his cock makes you moan around him hard that he thrusts upwards to chase the bliss your throat gives his cock. 

the room gets filled with sounds of jeno slurping and spitting on your hole and you gagging on his cock and occasional squeals from you as jeno relentlessly eats you out deeper and abuses your prostate with his tongue. he buries his face deeper, almost suffocating himself in the depths of your ass as he slurps and tongues the insides of your hole, driving you crazy as he pushes you to the edge. 

“jeno! close!” you whimper desperately as you grip his cock. you even grind against his face as you feel your orgasm building up. smirking, jeno pulls away before making you lay on your back. he wraps his mouth around your dick before bobbing his head eagerly, while four of his fingers stretch your hole and pleasure your prostate, pushing you closer to an awaited orgasm. 

“fuck, fuck, fuck! jeno!” you squeal on top of your lungs as you release your cum in jeno’s mouth. desperate for more pleasure, you thrust into his mouth with your legs wrapped around his head. jeno moans around your dick, increasing the bliss and erupting more loads of cum from your dick. he smirks as he sees you blissed out. whole body sweaty, chest heaving, and eyes closed due to pleasure. vulnerable and naked. jeno loves seeing this sight of you and he lives for it. 

impatiently, he pulls away from your cock before spitting out your cum to his palm before using it to lube his cock. none of you feel the need to reach out for the lube in the nearby drawer. the carnal needs are too difficult to ignore. not when you're both naked and too horny to be logical. 

“put it in me, please,” you whimper as you feel jeno prodding your rim with the tip of his cock. you're so desperate. so desperate you could die if you won't have jeno's juicy cock inside of you. so desperate to have him when you're legs are spread out and all he needs is to insert that fucking dick inside your hole begging to be filled with his cock and eventually, his cum. with jeno's smirkㅡthat fucking annoying smirkㅡyou knew you had to beg for it. 

“please, jeno. please!” you tear up as jeno takes his sweet time playing and tapping with the rim of your hols with his cockhead. if he gets childish and annoying he probably is drawing imaginary faces around your rim. “put it in now, please,” you squeal needily, begging jeno to just put that fucking cock inside. 

“so fucking needy,” he chuckles as his slaps your inner thigh before inserting the tip just to pull it out again. you whimper at the absence of his cock before begging again. he could no longer be patient. he immediately inserts his cock without warning that it draws out blissed out moans from the both of you. he groans at the warm, tight feeling of your whole while you whimper at the delicious stretch his huge cock does to your tiny hole. jeno lets out a long guttural moan, praising how tight you clamp his cock before putting your legs against his shoulders. he thrusts moderately into you, knowing how you liked being stretched by his cock. his thick cock drags through your tight walls, eliciting lustful groans from you as he hits the sweetest spots inside you. the stretch is just so fucking good you could cry at how good jeno uses his cock to please you.

“fuck, you feel so fucking good, princess,” he grunts as he intertwines his fingers with yours and pinning it on the sheets. while hitting your prostate consistently, he leans down, capturing your lips for a fervent kiss. teeth clashing and tongues dancing, jeno grunts as he presses a hand down your throat, making you submit to his dominance. he smirks, ravaging your mouth as he is in control. pulling away, he gets to your neck and leaves kisses before leaving marks that would take more than a week to fade. wanting to hear you moan louder, he keans down and slurps your nipple while playing with the other by giving it soft pinches and rubs. 

“oh god, jeno!” you scream as you wrap your limbs around him. your nails dig in his back and scratch, drawing blood, as he thrusts deeper and bulges your stomach. “fuck, fuck, fuck, jeno! more!” you squeal as you wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in to fuck you deeper. 

grunting, he presses your legs to your chest, making you whimper at the stretch in your hamstrings and the deeper position for him to penetrate you. he cages your face with his arms, making him see every blissed out expression you make as he assaults your prostate harder. “do you like this, baby? like how my cock makes you feel?” he asks before spitting a huge load on your face. dick twitching at the action, you nod and stick your tongue out, waiting for another huge load of spit from jeno. smirking, he wordlessly inserts two finger inside your mouth, making you gag at the sudden intrusion. you suck his fingers and swirl your tongue around them while looking at him with blissed out teary eyes. 

“god, look at you, babe. you're such a fucking slut for me.” he chuckles darkly as he thrusts his fingers in your throat. “who would've thought the nerd in uni is such a dirty bitch under me? you'd do anything just for me to fuck you, right?” he holds your waist with a bruising grip as he slams you to his cock, meeting his deep, greedy thrusts. 

“yes, daddy! i love how you make me feel good with your cock!” you squeal in between moans while clenching tightly around his cock, knowing how much jeno loves it tight. daddy. that word ignites a carnal desire inside  jeno every time jeno hears it from you. just like right now where he manhandles you into all fours and fucks you wilder than he did before. 

“what did you call me, princess? say that word again.” he growls in your ear as he grips your waist harsher and lands a stinging spank in your ass. 

“fuck me harder, daddy! fuck me so hard that i couldn't walk for days!” you moan out, your voice hoarse from screaming earlier. on cue, jeno reaches out for your hair, giving it a harsh grip that it deliciously burns your scalp. he tugs it harshly, pulling you close to him, your back arching hard as he penetrates you from behind. “fuck, i miss fucking you like this princess,” he grunts as he kisses your back before leaving bites that would turn into bright red marks. 

“i miss holding you like this and fucking you until your hold starts dripping with my cum.” he whispers nastily against your ears as he licks and bites on your earlobe. “i won’t stop fucking you until you get pregnant with my child.” you squeal sluttilly as he pinches your taut nipples and reaches for your dick and pumping it aggressively. jeno just fucks so good it's impossible for you to form a coherent word to talk back to him. what came out of your mouth are incoherent, broken moans and whimpers that just sounded musically arousing to jeno's ears. your moans go straight to his cock, stimulates it and just signals his sexual urges to pummel deeper into you to give in to the pleasure provided by sex. 

“fuck, jeno! make me pregnant please! breed me that i bloat and carry your children! fuck, please, jeno!” jeno smirks as you shriek uncontrollably like a slut to which he responds by gripping your hair and pressing your head down the bed while he grabs your hands and presses them behind your back. he extends his leg to the side and mercilessly thrusts his cock, not caring about you anymore. you'll take it anyway as long as it's jeno. shrieks and squeaks come from you as jeno fucks you harsher and wilder that you cry out your pleasure in the pillows. 

the whole room reeks of sweat and all that could be heard are skins slapping and grunts and moans and squeals that all came from pleasure. these get significantly intense and louder as you both near your orgasms. feeling his cock throbbing as he feels his climax, he immediately flips you on your back and jerks your dick, knowing how your body contorts in pleasure when your orgasm hints its arrival. 

“fuck, i wanna breed you so bad that you get pregnant,” he grunts, sweat dripping from his temples as he grips the back of your legs and presses them next to your ears, fucking you in the deepest position yet. you tear up and whimper from the stretch and the building up orgasm. “breed me please! i want you hot cum in me, please! daddy, cum in me! knock me up, please, daddy!” you curse shamelessly, gripping the sheets tightly they could rip, but you couldn't care less. jeno's fucking you deliciously, driving you to your climax. 

your moans and jeno’s grunts level the volume of the bed creaking and headboard hitting the wall. jeno doesn't stop pounding deeply into you that you feel so fucking sensitive everywhere. too blisses out and pleasured to register the scent of sweat coating your bodies and the squelchy and filthy sounds the steady thrusts jeno makes. your mind is in a haze, barely able to breathe at how fast and hard jeno fucks his cock inside you. your head is in the clouds, sensitively savoring the feeling of being fucked wildly in the best way. 

“whore.” jeno lands a harsh slap on your face. his thrusts get unstable and inconsistent as his cock throbs harder and harder. growling, jeno grabs you by the throat. “you are fucking mine. got that?!” 

“yes! yes! yes!” all you could do was scream in carnal bliss as thick ropes of cum spurts out from your dick as jeno moans loudly, filling you up with his hot load. his relentless thrusts don't come to a stop. they get rather intense that you swear you hear a leg of the bed crack from the strength of his thrusts. he chases his orgasm that he screams so loud that the neighboring dorms could hear. he thrusts and thrusts until he couldn't handle the sensitivity of his cock while you squirt messily all over your body that it soils the sheets. 

shakily, he leans in and slams his lips into yours, eating your face hungrily. you reciprocate, dancing your tongue with his as you recover from the high of your orgasms. he pulls away, planting a kiss on your forehead before resting his head on your neck. 

you stay like that for a while, waiting for your breathe to steady. when it does, jeno gently pulls out his cock from your hole and moans as he admires the sight of his cum gloriously oozing out of your wrecked hole. it's amazing how your puckered rim clenches and unclenches around nothing and couldn't meet when it clenches. jeno leans down and feasts on his release. he kisses your rim before giving it the softest of licks before slurping all his cum inside your hole. he licks the piss and the cum scattered all over your torso before passing it to you through a passionate and messy kiss. jeno plays with the fluids before passing it you as he sucks your lips and tongue. 

moaning in contentment from the passionate makeout session, you pull back, and lay on his arm after pulling it. jeno pulls you close by your waist and plants a loving kiss on your forehead. 

“how are you, baby?” he asks, voiced gentle as if he's a different person from the one who fucked you wildly earlier. he caresses your butt cheek, knowing how sore it felt after being the receiving end of his harsh slaps. 

“so sore,” you whimper as you scoot closer, finding comfort in jeno's warm embrace as you nuzzle his chest. nothing beats the feeling of being cuddled by him after being used like a ragdoll prior. and you look to have more cuddles with him thanks to the absence of roommates. 

“i love you, baby,” he lands a peck on your lips. “do you want to get cleaned up right now?” 

“just… cuddles first, then we'll take a warm bath.” you reply and jeno couldn't resist cooing at how cute you respond. we'll that's what good sex does to you. and only jeno does that to you. 

“take a rest, then, baby.” he lands a kiss on your forehead. 

“we have the whole place to ourselves to recreate those things in your X bookmarks.” 

[glossgojo]

prince treatment

bradley “rooster” bradshaw x AFAB reader | 5.7k words

summary: you’re hell-bent on treating bradley like a prince after the events of top gun maverick, but you’re still his princess…

cw: 18+ MDNI, no seriously p0rn with some plot, fluff, fingering, big rooster c0ck (hehe), blowjobs, shower head, oral fem receiving, pussy drunk bradley, AFAB reader, p in v sex, MATING PRESS, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, possessive bradley, use of “girl” as a pet name, pet names, some degradation towards the end, breeding <3, cervix fucking, i went a lil feral with this one

as soon as you got the call that the mission was over you were hauling ass in bradley’s baby blue bronco. you’d been staying at his place while he was on the mission, keeping it clean and waiting for him to return. you hadn’t even thought to change out of one of his baggy army shirts and instead slipped on biker shorts and sped to the base. phoenix had called and told you that Mav and bradley were resting up in the infirmary but they were okay, she also told you how hangman had helped, knowing you were not fond of the blonde pilot. you choked back a sob as you thanked her letting you know and rushed to get there.

both of the pilots were asleep and you made out bradley’s expression in the dim light of the room. he didn’t look injured but you didn’t hazard touching him, only placing a kiss to his scarred cheek. even in his slumber, he was the most handsome man you’d ever known and your heart swelled knowing he was peacefully asleep in front of you. you tried your best to stay awake in the chair next to the hospital bed but ultimately your eyes shut as you fell asleep to the sound of your boyfriend’s breathing.

bradley woke up to see you curled up, in a position that hardly looked comfortable, in one of his shirts. at first he thought he was dreaming, the sunlight shining down on your hair made you look like an angel. it wasn’t until he heard your soft exhale that he realized he was very much awake and the love of his life was here. you had only been dating two months but bradley had known the first night you were it for him. you talked like you had known each other your entire lives and bradley felt like you were always within him. like you were a bone he just discovered could be broken and healed within the span of a night. you had looked at him like he put the damn stars in the sky but bradley was convinced for the better part of your early days that you were too good to be true. you were so kind to him, so loving it didn’t make sense. it still didn’t make sense, but he let himself be selfish, let himself be cared for. he watched the way his shirt dipped off your shoulder, how the material swallowed you whole and how damn good it felt knowing his girl was dressed in his clothes.

you stirred as bradley moved off the bed, sitting up and pulling on his boots. you always were a light sleeper, waking up to kiss him goodbye every morning no matter how early. your body unfurled, you clutched your neck as you stretched it, sore from its craned position. when your eyes fluttered open you took in your boyfriend staring at you lovingly as he sat across from you. you instantly sat up, your feet moving towards him.

“morning sweetheart.” you didn’t respond, just threw your arms around his neck. you’d missed his voice, it had only been a few weeks but you were terrified the entire time. you didn’t realize you were crying until his strong arms pulled you a little closer when tears wet his back. “hey, it’s okay i’m here.” he rubbed your back, rubbing his nose against the length of your neck, inhaling your scent. you smelled mostly of him, his shirt attributing to that, but there was still a hint of that warm floral smell that he could never get enough of. when your tears seemed to subside you pulled back to look at him, you had missed his eyes.

“hey handsome.” you said, your voice a little groggy still but he laughed nevertheless, and you were content with the smile on his face. you wanted to see him happy all the time, you wanted to care for him, he had been through so much not just in the mission but the past few months. “let’s go home.” home, bradley liked the way you said that about his place. you had only been there a couple times since you started dating, he usually stayed at your place but it seemed you had gotten comfortable at his apartment. the thought alone made the blood rush in his veins.

bradley threw his arm over your shoulder, you tucked into his side and pressed a kiss to his hand since you couldn’t reach his face without some tiptoeing. bradley thought you might just be the sweetest girl in the entire world. in the hallway outside the room you saw hangman sitting down and waiting, you couldn’t believe it but you remembered what phoenix said. he stood up and clapped a hand over bradley’s shoulder, they nodded at each other a whole conversation taking place in silence. you weren’t so adept in whatever that was so instead you just hugged him, bradley letting you go for a moment. you thanked him as you did it, and hangman let out a breath it felt he was holding for a while. you turn back towards bradley, seeing the small smile on his face.

“i know you would’ve killed me, and probably mav if anything happened to him,” jake joked, clearly uncomfortable with being appreciated, and you let him return back to his norm. you knew that in his own way, jake cared about rooster and mav and all the other pilots. he’d just never admit to it.

“you know me so well.” you looked up to bradley who had been watching you throughout the whole conversation. he was struck by how protective you were of him, the fact that you’d fight for him was enough to make his heart beat out of his chest. how had he never noticed this before? you were always barking back at hangman, or telling maverick off. he just never pieced together that it was all for him. he was a fool.

your voice shook him out of his thoughts as you bid your goodbyes to hangman and made your way to the parking lot. bradley could spot his car from a mile away but his eyes were on you. you pushed away from his hold, dangling the keys in front of his face. “i’m driving, you need to rest.” bradley couldn’t protest when you looked like a vision leaning back against the truck bed. he nodded, stepping towards you his hips against yours as he had you pressed against the truck. his arms circled your waist and yours circled his neck, one hand raking through his hair. bradley had to stop himself from groaning at the feeling of your nails scraping his scalp.

“i missed you so much, bradley, i’m so glad you’re safe. you’re a hero, you know that?” the adoration in your eyes was too much for him, bradley thought he might just prove how much he loves you in the bed of his truck, but you didn’t deserve that he wanted to tell you slowly, show you over and over again until you could only think that one thought, bradley loves you.

“i missed you too, before hangman radioed all i could think about was how much i wanted to come home to you.” you didn’t want to cry again, but you could feel tears pricking your eyes. you looked down, head hanging low as you realized what he was saying. when he was scared for his life, he was thinking about you.

“look at me, let me see those pretty eyes.” he nudged your head up, his hand cupping your jaw as he lightly pinched your chin. finally you gave in, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. he watched you blink, wiped the tears that strayed and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“bradley, you can’t-fuck i can’t lose you.” bradley knew that you loved him, you’d already made it clear in your actions and now even though he could his reflection in your eyes he could still see that raw desperation and need that he recognized so well. you were just waiting for him, waiting for him to accept the love.

“you won’t.” he promised it with a kiss to your lips, letting you pull him closer, his half hard dick pressed against your stomach and you gasped, giving him an opening. his tongue traced the seam of your lips before delving deeper and tasting you. you kissed him back just as fervently, desperate for him. you pulled back for air first, bradley still pressing kisses to your mouth as you struggled for air. it was then that you realized you were still on the base. you reminded bradley of the fact and pushed him off, you had plans to cook him dinner and curl up in bed, it was high time to head home. bradley, reluctantly moved away from you pressing one last kiss to your lips before moving to the passenger door. you wished your boyfriend wasn’t so irresistible the taste of his lips lingered and you wanted so much more, but you could be patient.

you stuck the keys in and drove off towards bradley’s place and bradley couldn’t help but notice how good you looked driving his car. his shirt still hanging off your shoulders, his. you were his and the thought alone made his hand inch towards your thigh.

“hey that’s my move! you’re the passenger remember.” you pouted, shooting him a playful glare at a red light.

“i beat you to it, not my fault you look so pretty driving my car.” your heart skipped a beat as his hand inched higher, his voice dripping with want. you couldn’t look at him, you knew you’d lose all focus on your goals at home.

“i like taking care of you.” you murmured and bradley didn’t miss it. he couldn’t help but moved his hand higher, long fingers curling under the waistband of your shorts and finally you looked at him. your flushed cheeks and wide eyes drove bradley a little crazier. you didn’t stop him as his fingers grazed your flesh, a whine crawling up your throat. you looked back at the road, driving as well as you could as his thick fingers grazed your clit. his fingers dipped further, stopping as he felt just how wet you were. you squirmed and he huffed out a laugh as he collected your slick, his fingers coated in it. one of his thick fingers slipped into your heat and you bit your bottom lip to hold in the moan, he slid in easily all your arousal easing his movement. his finger curled and found the spot he was well familiar with, making you clench around him.

“so tight baby, ease up.” bradley couldn’t believe just how easily worked up you were, maybe you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. your arousal probably soaked through your shorts, he should’ve known. he watched as you abused your bottom lip, plump and raw from your teeth. he wanted to hear your pretty noises but he could wait. just as you felt yourself grow close, he slipped his finger out, grazing your clit making you tense, as his hand left your shorts. you couldn’t help but steal a glance at him as he licked your essence off his fingers, looking at you hungrily. the eye contact and the lewd sound of him slurping made you clench again, wanting to be home so badly.

“you taste like heaven sweetheart, can never have enough.” his words alone made you sure you had wet his leather seats. this was the longest drive home ever.

finally after feeling bradley’s eyes on you the remaining drive home you pulled into the driveway. bradley made his way to your door before you had finished collecting your things and opened it for you, you blushed as you looked up at him. it was only minutes ago that the same hand holding the door open was touching you. you made your way inside bradley’s house, setting your stuff down and bradley kicked his shoes off. his place looked the same. there were only a few changes, it smelled like coffee and there was a bouquet on his dining table. it looked fresh, like you’d gotten it just before he came home. was it for him? no surely it was just coincidence.

“it smells so good in here what did you do?” you smiled at him, interlocking your hands as you crossed the space to the dining table. it’s not like it smelled bad before but it was just apartment smells, like pinesol and faint hints of his cologne.

“i just brought some of my candles over. these are for you, i was too frazzled to bring them so i popped them in a vase.” you motioned to the bouquet of peach roses and babies breath. bradley was stunned by you once again. he didn’t know what else to do but pick you up by your waist and pull you into him.

“i don’t deserve you.” he kept his arms wrapped around, his head nuzzling into your neck as you ran your hands through his hair. your bradley was home and you wanted him to know just how much you appreciated him, how much you loved him.

“yes you do, we deserve each other. you’re a hero roo.” you press a kiss to his head, he’s filled with emotion you can hear it in his voice and you’re no better, you’d do anything for him and you hope he knows it. finally bradley let’s you go from his grip, placing you down carefully, pressing a kiss to your fingers that are still interlocked with his own. you feel your heart flutter, set alight by his gentle adoration of you.

“i wanted to cook for you, are you hungry right now or do you wanna wait?” bradley doesn’t know how much a man can take, you’re too good to be true. he nods dumbly watching you saunter into his kitchen, watching you as he takes a seat at the island.

“let’s eat baby.” you shoot him a smile, you had already started getting ingredients out. you knew bradley, he’d eat if there was food offered. bradley felt for the second time like he’d woken up in dream. you moved around his kitchen like you knew it like the back of your hand, and maybe you did but something about you here in his kitchen, wearing his shirt after driving his car home made bradley painfully strain in his pants. you were cooking for him, taking care of him and you looked so damn good doing it. his eyes never left your body as you moved, eyeing you up and down. when you turned towards him he realized you’d said something to him. you held back a laugh as his eyes trailed from your legs to your face. “hmm?”

“i was just saying that kristine at work is getting married, she invited us.” bradley responded to you, and tried to keep himself from getting distracted by you. you decided to be a bit mean by bending down to grab a pot, you could’ve easily grabbed a different one but where was the fun in that? bradley barely finished his sentence as he watched his shirt ride up and show off your ass. he would have to buy you more of those biker shorts, they left nothing to the imagination. you couldn’t help but laugh this time, turning around to look him squarely in the eyes. “cat got your tongue?”

“you’re killing me baby.” he groaned, getting up and coming around the counter to stand in front of you. you could see his bulge as soon as he stood, your cheeks flushing but you kept your bravado all the same. his hands came to your waist, finding their home easily and you placed your hands on his annoyingly firm chest.

“we’re having dinner bradshaw no funny business, take a cold shower.” you teased, bradley groaned and pouted. he probably did need a cold shower, but parting with you was not an option in his mind

“come with me?” you wish you could be the bigger person, not give into the feeling in your stomach you’d been ignoring since you saw him when you woke up, but as he wet his lips and looked at you with his big hazel eyes your resolve dissolved.

you nodded, letting him clasp his hand around your wrist and pull you away. “wait! let me put the lasagna soup on simmer!” you had enough time to shower and be back to finish off dinner, bradley waited like an impatient puppy as you moved the pot, his hands back on your waist, his chest against your back. you could feel his hard-on and you bit your lip to stop yourself from brushing back on him. bradley didn’t think any amount of cold showers would help him scratch the itch that you had implanted within him, all it took was seeing you walking around his house like it was yours too to make him lose his mind.

you followed bradley to his room, grabbing a pair of pajamas which was quickly replaced by one of his army shirts and underwear. bradley watched you strip in the bathroom, his eyes not leaving your bare frame as he turned on the shower. you giggled as you watched his cheeks redden and you felt particularly evil as you pressed up against him and lifted the hem of his shirt up, urging him to take it off. bradley looked down at you, your hardened nipples pressing against his chest and he didn’t know if you were trying to kill him but his heart was

beating out of his chest. you counted down in your mind, 30 minutes to shower, you could do a lot in that time. maybe you’d let bradley work up an appetite.

he pulled off his shirt, his pants next and boxers. you stepped into the shower, beckoning to follow. you pressed at his shoulders to sit down on the bench within his shower, wanting to wash his hair. bradley’s mouth was slightly agape as he let you do as you pleased. you lathered your fingers with shampoo, tilting his head back, and got to work. he could feel your nails scrape against his scalp lightly, your fingers working in the shampoo and making sure to keep the shampoo out of his eyes. his breathing was only quickening as he watched you adamantly take care of you. he couldn’t remember the last time someone took care of him like this, well he could but it hurt to think of. he’d only known you a few months but the way you looked at him, the way you cared for him made him want to propose to you right now. overcome with emotion and a guttural need to make you feel his love, he pressed a kiss to your arm, drawing your eyes to his. you looked at him curiously, clearly so focused on his hair that you didn’t notice his growing emotions. you pressed a kiss to his lips before moving out of the way and grabbing the shower head to wash out the shampoo, your fingers wracking through his hair and making sure it was all washed out.

“can i get up now?” he said as he watched you grab the body wash. you placed the shower head back and turned back to him

“hmm? oh no, you’re getting special services lieutenant bradshaw.” you squeezed some body wash on your hands and bradley’s brain short-circuited. he could take your hands on his head, but your soft small hands on his body would surely end him. he quickly stood up and grabbed you by the waist to push you down.

“you know this could be classified as torture, pretty girl.” you were now in eye-line with his red throbbing member, unable to ignore just how desperate it looked for attention. you swallowed down before looking up at your boyfriend. you lathered the body wash on your breasts, looking up at him innocently as you pushed them together and a small groan left his lips. after your little show you leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock. bradley was big everywhere so unsurprisingly you had a hard time taking all of him into your mouth. you had been successful a couple times, with his help. bradley shuddered at the feeling of your soft lips against him. he clenched his fists as to not pull you onto him. your hands went around his hips and pulled him closer, he was standing between your spread legs and you moved closer on the bench, to get as close as possible. you brought your hands to rest on his thighs as you licked a stripe up his length, feeling his veins pressed against your tongue, pressing another sweet kiss to his tip, making him twitch against your mouth.

“mm roo, can you fuck my mouth?” you looked up at him sweetly and bradley swore he could’ve came just from the sight alone, but he quickly realized he’d rather do that down your throat. without a second of hesitation he grabbed your hair into a ponytail and pried your mouth open with his other hand, slowly sliding his heavy cock in until you adjusted. you felt his tip brush against your throat, struggling to breath as you felt like you were choking on him. your jaw ached as you adjusted to his girth and your tears stung from the intrusion, you could feel his veins against your tongue and the hair at the base of his shaft tickled your nose as you struggled to breath. after a few moments as you regained your breath you tapped on his thigh, signaling for him to move and then bradley snapped out of you and fucked your throat, filling you even deeper than before. he was brutal as he set the pace, you moaned and gagged on him, spit and cum collecting around your mouth and dribbling down your chin as the shower head sprayed down his back and left you feeling filthy. tears were streaming down your face and you dug your nails into his thigh. bradley was close, you could feel him twitching down your throat and his grip loosening, you forced yourself all the way down his length, making it hard to breathe as he filled your throat with his cum. you gagged as it kept coming out, more and more and he pulled you off, the remainder painting your mouth and face white. you wiped it off with your hand and brought it back to your mouth to swallow and bradley thought he might need another round right away. he pulled you up on your shaky legs and pressed a kiss to your lips, tasting himself there. you felt so warm from making him cum, making your bradley feel good. he washed you then, returning the favor from earlier. after showering he dried you off and you did the same for him, letting your hands trail on his abs a little longer than intended. bradley gave you a warning sign and you looked at him with false confusion.

dinner went by quickly after that, both of you having worked up an appetite. “that tasted damn good darlin’” he wiped his mouth and you clenched your legs together where they were crossed. seeing him eat always made you a little needy.

“glad you liked it roo,” you watched as he carried both of your plates to the sink and cleared the table, sticking the dishes in the dishwasher after rinsing them off. your hungry eyes never left his, the kitchen light reflecting off his dog tags, making your head spin.

“my baby’s treating me so well, i would kill for some desert though.” he stood in front of you, pulling you gently to stand and you watched him curiously. he hauled you up, your hands immediately going around his neck and your legs around his waist. before you could ask what he was doing he set you down on the dinner table, kneeling in front of you. his large hands rested on either knee, looking at you silently for permission. you groaned as you looked at his hungry expression, nodding weakly as you felt your arms shake from holding your body up. when his hands parted your legs and pulled down your underwear you fell back, losing any control over your body that you had. “been dying to taste you again, my sweet sweet girl.” he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, murmuring sweet nothings to your core and you wanted to press your legs together to release some of the tension but his strong grip kept you in place. “patience doll.” you whined at his slow kisses between your thighs, never quite where you needed him. you felt so hot and you were sure you were about to drip onto your wooden table if he didn’t touch you soon.

“please roo, i-i can’t.” another whine crawled up your throat as he pressed a kiss to your clit, his mustache grazing your soft skin.

“you can, you’ve been so good all day right? you can be good now.” your hands went to his hair, tugged at the strands there, he just laughed at your attempts to get him where you wanted him. finally after what felt like hours, he pressed a thick finger against your entrance feeling just how wet you were. he felt his dick twitch in his pants at how easily you could take his finger in, so wet and ready for him. he brought the finger to his lips, reminding you of earlier today as he swirled his tongue around it, humming at the taste of you. without warning he pulled you towards his face, your bare ass sliding against the wood as he licked a stripe down your core. bradley felt dizzy at the taste of you, you were so fucking wet, all for him, all because of him. the thought and the addictive taste of you, caused him to dive his tongue into your soppy hole. you whined out his name at the feeling of his tongue moving inside you, scraping your walls, making you gush onto his tongue. the sounds of his tongue fucking you and your whines filled the room. his left hand moved from where it pushed at your thigh to instead thumbing at your clit. you tugged at his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer and he hummed at the sting, using his other hand to slip a finger into your hole, both his tongue and finger relentless in drawing out more of your ichor. you clenched and he pushed another finger in, removing his tongue entirely and moving to suck your clit as his thick fingers found the spot that made you scream his name. “brad-please i’m so close”

“give it to me pretty girl,” he curled his fingers up, his tongue going back to your hole to catch any of your slick before it plopped on the table, his fingers and mouth driving you to your orgasm and fucking your through it. you were jerking in his hold as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, not letting any of your release go to waste.

“roo, too much.” you whined as you weakly pushed at his shoulders, the overstimulation becoming too much to bare. he pulled back and you leaned up to see the lower half of his face and mustache glistening in the light. you sat up, clambering to pull him towards you, wanting to taste yourself on his tongue. bradley smiled as he kissed you sloppily, letting you explore his mouth and you whined at the feeling of his hard-on pressing against your core through his sweatpants. as if you weren’t overstimulated minutes ago, your boyfriend being so turned on from eating you out made your core tighten, “want your dick, want you to fill me up.” you whined into his mouth as he pulled back and pressed a kiss to the tender spot beneath your ear. bradley didn’t speak as he picked you up, his hands under your plush ass as he hauled you to the bedroom.

“can’t just say shit like that baby, you’ll drive me crazy.” he growled into your ear, his hold tightening on your ass and pulling you closer against his hard chest.

“s’true though.” you mumbled as he set you down on the bed, pulling your shirt clean off as to you watched him hungrily stare at your body. he leaned over you then, his hand coming between your legs and your eyes widened as you realized what he was doing. “no please-i can take it please roo, it’ll fit i-“ you were begging, desperation and desire clawing at your sensibility and bradley wished he had photographic memory so he could memorize the look on your face and the whine to your voice. you were so gone for him, but he was no better your taste was still branded on the back of his teeth and yet he wanted more.

“desperate little slut, you’ll regret this you know that right?” bradley rarely spoke to you like that, he didn’t really like it, but he could see you clench on air at his words, could see the way your chest moved a little faster.

“i-i can take it.” and he nodded moving up, plunging deep into you before you started begging again. the stretch stole the air from your lungs and the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix made you tense. but then he was moving slowly out and back in, letting you adjust and the burn gave way to pleasure as you clenched around him and felt your arousal mixed with his make the movement easier. you could feel his heavy thick member shaping your walls to fit him, every vein every ridge imprinting inside you. every slow thrust made him kiss your cervix, a ring of cum collecting at the base of his shaft and your arousal pooling down his balls. you wanted more, wanted to burn, barely wanted to walk tomorrow because of him. you clawed at his back, whining as you begged for more, “harder please please.” bradley gave into your pretty little pleas.

he pulled your legs over his shoulders and tilted towards you, his cock dipping into you and hitting a new angle that made his go deeper and strecth you out even more. he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lifted up and pounded down into you, and then again and then until he was pounding you so hard and fast that your head was banging against the headboard. your mind went numb at the overwhelming pleasure, you dug your nails in to ground yourself as his tip bruised your cervix and he hit the spot that made you babble and cry for more. bradley was fucking you like it was the only chance he had, his hips snapping into yours and your cum dripping down your thighs and his. the room smelled of sex and sounded pornographic. “this pussy is mine, you’re mine.” he growled out and you clenched around him, loving the sound of that. you had been his since the moment you met.

“i’m yours.” you gasped between thrusts, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your neck, biting and sucking at the skin there. you cried out as he pulled back to look down at you, his hand cradling your jaw and then he slipped his thumb into your mouth and you felt yourself grow close. bradley was filling you up and now his fingers were in your mouth, keeping you stuffed. you slobbered around them sucking and whining as the moved down your throat, fucking you there too. all you could think about was him filling you up.

“need your cum,” you managed as you pulled his fingers out, saliva trailing behind and connecting to your lips. bradley almost came at yours words alone, he pulled his drenched fingers and flicked your clit, massaging it slowly in contrast to his brutal pace. you were sure your cunt would be bruised if that was possible.

“gonna fill you up, watch you walk around my house. in my clothes. drive my car with my kid inside you. you’re fucking mine forever.” he babbled, angling himself until he was kissing your cervix with each thrust, punctuating his words and then finally his resolve snapped. he dipped his hips to connect to yours one last time before he was filling you up, his cum overflowing from your small cunt. you gasped and cried at the feeling coming with him and seeing white as you arched up into him, clawing down his back and leaving red marks in your wake.

you felt so warm and when he pulled out you whined at the feeling of his cum gushing out, threatening to run down your thighs. but bradley was quicker, he was fucking it back into you, making sure it stayed in there. you clenched at the feeling and cried out his name. you knew you were on birth control, bradley knew it too but the way he fucked you like he wanted to breed you made your head spin. bradley pulled you on top of him as he moved to lay next to you on his back, enjoying the weight of your body on his. “for the record, you’re mine forever too.” although it wasn’t i love you it was damn near close and the way bradley fucked you, you weren’t sure those words were needed any more.

[iliothermia]

The lovely liontaur guard, it's what he was born to do!

Stay put and keep people out of the labyrinthian garden. He's never seen someone in it before in his whole lives (Liontaurs are born with nine legs initially- they say one loses one with every life lost but never remember how. He's lost three and has no clue!)

Anyway, he's never seen another being in his garden. He just knows he was told to never let someone reach the center where a long-passed king's tomb lays. When he does cross paths with a stranger, he's actually quite horrified. He's never killed before, let alone fought anyone other than playfighting with his siblings. He acts rough and questions the frail man on his business in the garden, and the man claims to have no idea who or where he is- Only that he feels drawn to the center of the maze.

The liontaur does his best to try to scare him off, going as far as sinking his claws into the man... Inspecting him, trying to read him... (Why does he seem familiar?) Only to be stopped dead in his tracks with an offering of sharing a pomegranate.

The liontaur can't bring himself to truly hurt the man, in internal turmoil over of what a shame he'd be to his family. After he lets the man go, he decides to trail behind him and see what he's up to.

It's a long journey to the center, and it seems the man is Just... Soft and confused. The liontaur develops a bit of a.. Crush on him.

The man is aware of his presence and feels comforted by not being alone but lets the liontaur believe that he's oblivious. On particularly cold nights the silly cat will curl up surrounding him to keep him warm while he pretends to be a very heavy sleeper. While gazing upon the man's peaceful sleeping face the liontaur realizes why the man looks so familiar. He's seen it time and time again on statues decorating the garden and tomb.

The man is the reawakened king from the tomb, now making his way back to the center to another long rest. It turns out his duty was to keep the king from returning to the center for another long slumber, but his last sleep had been so long the lore was forgotten. Now it's his duty to keep the man overcome with instincts to return to nothingness from doing just that. He doesn't even know why it's important, other than his own selfish reasons (He's falling in love)