#seriously though they have to be there with him
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greengoblinswifey · 3 days ago
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Little Do You Know—Player 001/Hwang In Ho x Fem!Reader
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summary—after making a passing remark on the possibility of the front man being attractive, your crush on young-il who unbeknownst to you is the front man, boils over. based on this request.
warnings— flirting, oral(f&m receiving), praising, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie.
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The group sat gathered around with a small meal, the kind of makeshift dinner that felt comforting despite the bleak circumstances. Gi-hun leaned back, his arms crossed, recounting some story about the Front Man. “I’m telling you, he has cameras everywhere. He probably sees and hears everything we’re saying.”
The mood was tense, as it often was when the Front Man became the topic of conversation. But your lips twitched upward, a thought making you suppress a giggle.
Dae-ho, ever the curious one, caught it immediately. “What’s so funny?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in your direction.
You waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, nothing. It’s silly. Forget it.”
Young-il, sitting across from you, tilted his head slightly, his expression soft. “Come on,” he said gently, his voice soothing in a way that made you feel oddly safe. “Anything you have to say, we’ll appreciate. Don’t hold back.”
Encouraged by his tone, you hesitated for just a moment before shrugging. “Alright, but don’t judge me.” You exhaled a breathy laugh, looking down at your lap for a second before glancing back up. “What if the Front Man is, like—really hot?”
The reaction was instant. Dae-ho choked on his milk, sputtering, while Jun-Hee’s eyes widened slightly before she went back to eating as if she hadn’t heard you. Even Jung-Bae, usually laid back, looked at you like you’d just grown a second head.
“Seriously?” Gi-hun said, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s what you’re concerned about?”
“What?” you asked defensively, your shoulders lifting in mock innocence. “I’m just saying. It’s possible!”
Gi-hun groaned, covering his face with his hands. “We’re talking about a guy who might be orchestrating all this madness, and you’re worried if he’s good-looking?”
Before you could respond, your eyes flicked to Young-il. Everyone else was either laughing awkwardly or shaking their heads, but Young-il wasn’t saying a word. Instead, a subtle smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, almost imperceptible to anyone else. Almost.
Your gaze stayed on him for a moment, your brow quirking as you tilted your head slightly in return, a silent question hanging between the two of you. His smirk deepened just enough for you to catch the meaning, amusement, maybe even intrigue, but he quickly smoothed his expression before anyone else noticed. He was hot too, you thought.
Gi-hun, still shaking his head, muttered, “Out of everything you could be thinking about.”
“Well, excuse me for lightening the mood,” you shot back playfully, rolling your eyes. “It’s not like I said I wanted to marry him or something. Geez.”
As the group moved on, you couldn’t help but replay the moment in your head. Maybe you were overthinking it, but wasn’t Young-il’s smirk a little too knowing? Or maybe it was just your ridiculous crush on him twisting your perception. You’d never admit it out loud, but you found yourself drawn to his quiet confidence, the calm authority he exuded even in casual moments like this.
It was ironic, really, here you were crushing on Young-il while joking about the Front Man. Little did you know, the very man you were teasing about might as well have been sitting right in front of you, wearing the mask in plain sight.
You shook the thought off with a small laugh. Overthinking, as usual. Still, when Young-il glanced your way again, his gaze warm and unreadable, you couldn’t stop your stomach from fluttering.
The night had settled into a familiar stillness, broken only by the occasional shuffle of someone shifting in their sleep. You couldn’t sleep, your earlier exchange with Young-il replaying in your mind. That smirk, so brief, had lodged itself in your thoughts.
You were still awake when he appeared, his footsteps quiet as he approached where you lay, tucked into a dim corner of the quarters. He didn’t say anything at first, just crouched down beside you, his dark eyes searching yours.
“Can’t sleep either?” he asked softly.
“Guess not,” you replied.
He tilted his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Still thinking about the Front Man being hot?”
“I didn’t mean to make it weird,” you said laughing and flustered.
“You didn’t,” he assured you. “But if I didn’t know better, I’d say you might have a type.”
Your cheeks warmed under his words, and you rolled your eyes, trying to deflect. “Oh, come on. I was joking.”
“Were you?” he teased, his smile widening just a bit.
You were about to retort, but something in his expression stopped you. His hand, warm and steady, brushed against your cheek, lingering for just a moment before he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“You know,” he said, his tone teasing, “if you wanted to get something off your chest, now’s the time.”
Your breath hitched. “What are you trying to say, Young-il?”
“Just that I’m here,” he replied, “If there’s something you want.”
His words sent a jolt through you, and before you could second guess yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss started slow, testing the waters, but quickly deepened as his hand came up to cradle your face.
The thought of the games seemed to fall away as you lost yourself in the way his lips moved against yours. His hands were firm but gentle, holding your face as the kiss turned hungrier, more insistent. His fingers found their way into your hair, tugging slightly, drawing a low moan from him that you quickly stifled.
“Quiet,” he murmured against your lips, a teasing smirk playing on his face as his thumb brushed over your cheek. “We wouldn’t want to wake anyone, would we?”
Your heart raced as his lips moved to your neck, his hands on your waist as he guided you back against the small bed. He trailed kisses down your chest, his kisses slow and savoring every moment.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
A soft gasp escaped your lips as his kisses grew bolder, trailing lower. He pulled off your bottoms and your lace panties, tongue licking from your hole to your clit. The way he did it so suddenly, so smoothly, made your pussy throb. You instinctively bit down on your lip, your hands fisting the fabric beneath you as you fought to keep your composure.
“Relax,” he whispered. “Let me taste you.”
His hands slid down your thighs, spreading them open as he adjusted your position. He glanced up at you, his dark eyes meeting yours with a glimmer of mischief and tenderness. You pressed your lips together tightly, his skilled tongue flicking your clit then moving to your leaking hole.
“Don’t hold back too much,” he murmured, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I want to hear those pretty moans, just a little.”
Your cheeks warmed at his words, his tone leaving you breathless. You felt the warmth of his fingertips on your thighs and the tenderness of his kisses on your pussy, and his praises were a quiet balm to the storm of emotions swirling inside you because of the game.
“You taste so fucking good,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”
Your fingers gripped his shoulders as he continued ravishing your pussy, mouth engulfing you and sucking as though the meal from earlier wasn’t enough. He was attentive to your pleasure, fingers pumping steadily inside your pussy as sucked and flicked your clit with precision. The precision you expected and appreciated in an older man. No one had ever made you feel this good. The pleasure was otherworldly and your legs shook from it all.
The coil in your abdomen and euphoria built with every passing second and you had to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep quiet. His words and actions blurred together, creating a warmth that left you trembling. When his tongue brought you to your peak, you bit down on your lip to stifle a cry, your entire body shuddering as he pressed a soft kiss to your clit.
“You did amazing,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your ear as he leaned closer.
You gently nudged Young-il to lie back, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “My turn,” you murmured, your fingers grazing the waistband of his bottoms.
He raised an eyebrow, a chuckle escaping him, but there was no mistaking the lust in his gaze. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” you interrupted softly.
Slowly, you slid his bottoms down, taking in the sight of his, long, thick cock with a mixture of nervousness and determination. He was big, but you could take him. His sharp inhale was audible as your lips wrapped around the head, his hand instinctively brushing against your cheek as you went down.
“You’re too good to me,” he whispered, his voice low and tinged with awe.
Your fingers wrapped around his girth, careful and deliberate, and you began to stroke as you sucked with a rhythm that earned a quiet moan from him. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, but you focused, letting his quiet praises guide you.
“Just like that,” he murmured, his fingers threading in your curls. “You’re doing so well.”
You glanced up at him, mouth full, eyes watering and saliva mixed with pre cum dripping down your chin. Your cheeks warmed from his words and the darkness of his gaze. The way he looked at you like you were the most beautiful little thing in the world as you took him down your throat made your heart race. You bobbed your head faster, using as much tongue as you could on his thick shaft, your actions conveying what words couldn’t.
The effect was immediate. His head fell back against the pillow, a low moan escaping him as his free hand gripped the fabric beneath him.
“God, you’re incredible,” he said, his voice rough. “That pretty face of yours, how will I last?”
You couldn’t help but smile with his cock buried in your throat, your movements continued, now slower and purposeful as you went up and down. His breathing grew heavier, and his hand in your hair tightened slightly as he struggled to maintain composure.
“You’re too good,” he managed, his voice breaking slightly. “I—”
Before he could finish, the coil in him snapped, and his praises were replaced with a low, drawn out moan of relief. You swallowed the ropes of hot cum, watching as he tried to catch his breath, his gaze locking with yours almost immediately.
“You’re perfect,” he said, his tone full of affection and disbelief. He reached out to cup your face, pulling you closer until his lips pressed against yours, savoring the taste of himself on your lips.
Your confidence emboldened by the way he looked at you with dazed, lust filled eyes. His hands still rested on your waist, fingers brushing your skin as you leaned into him, your voice soft but teasing.
“Can I ride you?” you asked, pussy aching for him.
His lips curved into a smile, his thumbs drawing slow circles on your hips. “Anything you want, princess,” he murmured.
You bit your lip as you shifted, settling over his hard cock with a nervous laugh that he silenced by cupping your cheek. “Take your time,” he said.
When you finally sank down onto his length, his hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding you with a steady rhythm that sent shivers down your spine. The quiet moan he let out made you even wetter, and you instinctively leaned forward, resting your hands on his chest for balance.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough but filled with admiration. “You ride me so well, just like that.”
His praises made you bolder, and you bounced on his cock with more confidence, your breathing shallow as he let his hands roam, one sliding up to gently cup your tits. The warmth of his touch made you bite back a moan and his eyes darkened as he noticed.
“You’ve got to be quiet pretty girl,” he whispered, his hands still steadying you. “Think you can do that?”
You nodded quickly, though the feeling building inside you made it harder with every moment. His grip on your hips tightened, and he thrusted up into you, the two of you finding a rhythm that made it impossible to focus on anything but how he stretched your pussy. He was so big, your pussy was sure to remember the shape of his cock after you were done.
“I want to cum with you,” you admitted breathlessly, leaning down so your lips were close to his ear. “Inside me.”
Young-il’s breath hitched, his eyes meeting yours with pure lust. A slow smirk spread across his face. “Beg for it,” he whispered.
Your cheeks burned, but the desire in his gaze made you bold. “Please,” you murmured, leaning closer. “I want you to cum with me. Please.”
He groaned softly, his hands gripping your hips even tighter. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice unsteady. “Just hold on to me.”
The pleasure between you reached its peak as his praises and your whispered pleas filled the air. When the release finally came, it was almost overwhelming, and you buried your face against his neck to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. His hands held you firmly in place as he came with you, cum spurting inside you while you soaked his cock, his breaths ragged but filled with relief.
“You’re amazing,” he murmured after a long pause, brushing stray strands of hair from your face. His gaze softened as he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You couldn’t help but smile, your heart racing as you settled against him. “So are you,” you whispered back, letting the moment linger in the quiet comfort of his embrace.
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mephisto-reporting · 1 day ago
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Period Pain Simulator
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About:You suggest to use a period cramp simualtor on him, and he agrees, not fully understanding what he signed up for. Based on this request. Pairing: Female Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship.My inbox is open for prompts and requests :) Content Warning: Mention of periods, period care, pain.
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ZAYNE
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The pitch:
When you brought up the idea of trying a period pain simulator with Zayne, he initially tilted his head in that ever-so-slightly skeptical way he does when you propose something he deems "questionable."
You held up your phone, a mischievous grin on your face. "Zayne, I found something amazing. It’s a period pain simulator, and I think you should try it."
Zayne raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed over his chest. "Why? I’m a doctor. I understand how bad it can get."
You scoffed. "Do you really, though? So many male doctors dismiss period pain like it’s no big deal. I think it’s time you felt what we go through. You know, for science."
He gave a small, amused smirk, but the seriousness in his eyes softened. "Alright, I’ll humor you. But if we’re doing this, make sure to get the one that can simulate back pain, too. Many women experience cramps radiating through the lower back, not just the abdomen. It’ll be a more accurate representation."
The Setup:
When the package arrived, Zayne opened it with the same precision he used in surgery. He carefully examined the simulator pads and settings, nodding in approval. "This is well-designed. Electrodes for the lower abdomen and lumbar region… Not bad."
You couldn’t help but grin. "Glad it meets Dr. Zayne’s standards."
He rolled his eyes but didn’t fight the smile tugging at his lips. "Let’s get this over with. I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy this too much."
He meticulously read the instructions, asking you questions about where the pain usually hits, its intensity, and duration.“And you’d rate it… a 9? Frequently?” he asked, frowning slightly. “I know you’ve mentioned how painful it can be before, but hearing it in these terms makes it…” He trailed off, his lips pressing into a thin line.
You secured the simulator pads on him, and he reclined in his chair like a man about to undergo a scientific trial, his expression stoic.
The Experiment:
At first, Zayne was unshaken, even giving clinical commentary.
“The cramping sensation is similar to gastrointestinal issues.” he noted, folding his arms across his chest. “Not unbearable, but unpleasant. I can see why it’s distracting.”
“Distracting?” You rolled your eyes. “Just wait, doctor.”
By level 6, you saw the shift. His previously composed expression faltered, his jaw tightening slightly. “Ah,” he exhaled sharply, his posture stiffening. His hand gripped the arm of the chair, knuckles whitening. “"The contractions are sharper now. Definitely impacting focus and posture.”
“What? Giving up already?” you teased, trying not to laugh.
“I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth, though a faint sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. “But this is… significantly more intense. Is this close to what you experience?”
"Not even close," you replied. "Mine’s more like a 9."
His eyebrows lifted, and he leaned forward slightly. "Let’s test it, then. Gradually increase it to your level."
When you nudged it to 8, his knees began to quiver slightly, and he leaned forward, bracing himself on his thighs.
“Alright,” he muttered, his voice tight. “That’s… that’s enough.”
You quickly turned it off, watching as he took a long, steadying breath, his head tilted back against the chair.
You immediately turned the device off and knelt in front of him, watching as he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. "Are you okay?"
Zayne didn’t say anything at first, just ran a hand down his face and looked at you.
“Nine?” he finally asked, his tone low and tinged with disbelief.
“Nine,” you confirmed, smiling faintly as you handed him a glass of water.
He exhaled sharply, his voice softer than usual. "I’m fine. Just… processing. I can’t believe you go through that regularly." He paused for a bit and said after a moment, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you function like this.”
You couldn’t resist teasing him. “So, doctor, any thoughts on how to fix it?”
He smirked faintly, though his expression still carried a hint of solemnity. “If I had the solution, I’d be a billionaire.”
The Aftermath:
From that day, Zayne became even more attentive during your periods. Whenever he noticed you wincing or holding your lower abdomen, he’d quietly step in with solutions. He was already a sweetheart before this when he would: Startkeeping track of your cycle, ensuring his apartment was stocked with your favorite snacks, pain relievers, and heating pads. On particularly bad days, he’d prepare meals for you, saying it was "basic patient care."
One morning, as you struggled to get ready for work, he handed you a heating pad. "Here. Lie down for a bit. I’ll call in and write you a sick note. You need rest more than they need you today."
You raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? I can power through."
He placed a hand on your shoulder, his tone firm yet gentle. "No need to prove anything. Your health comes first."
He draped a blanket over you and handed you a mug of herbal tea. Sitting beside you, he brushed a strand of hair from your face.
"You’re spoiling me.." you teased.
He smirked, leaning in to kiss your temple. "After that simulator, you’ve earned it. Besides, I don’t mind taking care of you."
And from then on, Zayne made it his personal mission to ease your discomfort every month.
SYLUS
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The Pitch:
You bring up the idea while lounging in his living room, half-expecting him to dismiss it with his usual sly smirk. Instead, he leans back, crossing one leg over the other, an amused glint in his sharp eyes.
"A period cramp simulator, hmm? You want to subject me to this, kitten?" His voice is teasing, but there's intrigue in his tone.
“You already treat me like royalty during my periods, but I think it’d be fun to see if you can handle the pain. You’re always so smug about your high pain tolerance.”
Sylus had always been attentive during your period. He tracked your cycle meticulously, often surprising you with gestures that softened even his domineering demeanor. He'd run you a hot bath infused with soothing oils, carrying you to the tub if you were too tired to move. When cramps got bad, he’d hold a warm compress to your stomach, his other hand massaging your lower back with expert care. When you think you’re being a bother, he’d often say: “Sweetie, do you think the Onychinus leader doesn’t know how to cater to his queen?"
Sylus chuckled lowly, leaning forward. “Very well, kitten. I’ll play along with your little experiment. But I warn you,” he teased, tapping your nose lightly, “don’t get your hopes up. I’ve endured worse than cramps.”
The Setup:
When the package arrives, Sylus studies it with unnerving focus, turning the instruction manual over in his hands. He helps you place the patches and electrodes on his abdomen, his smirk never fading.
“Don’t look so thrilled,” you tease.
“Oh, I’m just curious how something as small as this could possibly mimic what you endure.” he replies, confident.
You set the simulator to level 1 as he stands in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for your meal.
"Are you sure you want to cook like that?" you ask.
He shrugs. “You manage to work and do your chores during this, don’t you? Fair is fair.”
The Experiment:
At level 1, Sylus continued to chop vegetables, unfazed. “A mild annoyance,” he commented, smirking over his shoulder. “Feels like someone’s pinching me.”
By level 4, he hummed quietly, stirring the pot on the stove. “I can see why it’s bothersome,” he admitted. “Having this sensation constantly for days would be draining.”
You crossed your arms. “This is what I feel before my period starts. My cramps are much worse.”
His crimson eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued. “Then turn it up. Let’s see what you deal with, kitten.”
At around level 7, his breath hitches slightly, and his movements slow. The knife falters for a second before he regains his rhythm. “Interesting…” he mutters, the usual smugness replaced by concentration. “This is… unpleasant,” he admitted, his voice gruff.
At level 8, Sylus paused, one hand gripping the edge of the counter as a faint grunt escaped him. “You’re telling me this is a normal day for you?”
You shrugged, leaning against the counter. “More or less. Sometimes it’s worse.”
When you hit level 9, his head dipped slightly, a cold sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. “This…” he growled softly, straightening with effort, “is brutal. And you still function like this?”
“At least you’re not curling up in bed crying…” you teased.
He shot you a strained smirk. “Who says I’m not thinking about it?”
At level 10, Sylus shuddered, a rare moment of vulnerability showing as he gripped the counter tightly. “Alright, turn it off!” he said, his voice low and rough. “Next time any man says something dismissive about period pains…” He straightens, despite his trembling legs. “The Onychinus leader will personally make sure they understand how bad it can be.”
You help him to the couch, gently massaging his shoulders while he catches his breath. He leans into your touch, uncharacteristically silent. After a few minutes, he looks at you, his gaze softer than you’ve ever seen it.
“You go through that every month?” he asks, his tone laced with awe and guilt.
You nod. “And worse, sometimes.”
You handed him a glass of water, running a soothing hand over his back. “You okay now, Mr. Tough Guy?”
His smirk returned, albeit faintly. “I’m fine. But I have a new appreciation for your resilience. You’re tougher than I gave you credit for, sweetie.” he murmured, his hand reaching out to pull you close.
The Aftermath:
From that day, Sylus became even more attentive during your cycle. He already tracked it meticulously, but two days before your period, he’d sweep you off your feet—literally.
“No arguments.” he’d say as he carried you to his car. “You’re staying with me. I’ll handle everything.”
For the next several days, you weren’t allowed to lift a finger. He made sure every craving was satisfied, every discomfort alleviated.
One evening, as you sat curled up on his plush couch, he brought over a tray with your favorite snacks and bobba. Sitting beside you, he gently massaged your shoulders.
“You know…” you teased, “you don’t have to spoil me this much.”
Sylus leaned in, his voice a low, affectionate murmur. “After what you go through, sweetie? You deserve it. Besides,” he added with a playful smirk, “I like taking care of my kitten.”
RAFAYEL
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The Pitch:
You find Rafayel in his art studio, humming to himself as he paints bold, crimson strokes across the canvas. His expression is focused, but when you mention the period simulator, he freezes mid-swipe.
“Wait. Back up.” He narrows his eyes at you, holding the brush aloft like a sword. “You want me to voluntarily experience pain? Have I offended you somehow, or do you just take joy in my suffering?”
You grin. “I was thinking it might inspire your art. Pain breeds creativity, doesn’t it?”
He gasps, clutching his chest. “You’d subject me to agony for the sake of art? Truly, you are a sadist of the highest order. But…” He sighs dramatically, as though resigning himself to a grim fate. “Only you could convince me to do such a thing. You should feel privileged. But don’t think I’m suffering alone. If I do this, you’re doing it with me.”
The Setup:
When the simulator package arrives, Rafayel eyes it like it might explode. Picking up one of the devices, he smirks.
“Cutie, there’s four devices… I think you misordered. Should we strap one of these on Reddie and see how he handles it? Might be the only thing more ridiculous than this idea.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s meant to simulate cramps on your stomach and back, Rafayel. And no, we’re not torturing your pet fish.”
He flips through the instructions and gasps. “It goes up to ten? Why stop there? Why not go straight to death by cramps? You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“You scared?” you tease, securing the pads on his abdomen.
“Me? Scared?” He laughs, though there’s a nervous edge to it. “Please. Let’s get this over with, sadist.”
The Experiment:
The simulator starts, and Rafayel chuckles, waving it off. “Okay, I feel… something. Like a tiny, grumpy crab pressing against my stomach. Barely noticeable.” He glances at you, checking your reaction. “You’re starting this at baby mode, right? Because this is nothing.”
At level 4, his smugness evaporates as he clutches his abdomen. “Okay, wait. What is this? This is worse than that bad lobster I ate last year! Remember that? I thought I was dying, and now I’m reliving it!” As you ramp it up to level 5, Rafayel grabs your hand tightly, his face pale. “How—how are you just sitting there? Are you even human? You’re not reacting, and I’m over here wondering if my internal organs are trying to start a mutiny!”
When the simulator goes up to a level 6, Rafayel groans, leaning heavily on you. “This… this is inhuman! How can anyone live like this? I’m calling it now!! every deity ever owes women an apology. A big one.”
When you turn the dial to level 7, he collapses onto the couch in defeat, dramatically throwing an arm over his face. “I’m done! I can’t! This is not natural. What kind of cruel universe would let this happen? I concede! You win! You’re stronger than I’ll ever be.”
Watching you crank the simulator up to 10, Rafayel’s jaw drops. He stares at you like you’ve just walked through fire. “You’re not human. You’re a goddess of pain. A warrior queen. I bow to your strength.”
When the simulation ends, Rafayel sprawls across the couch like a fallen hero. “I’ve seen the face of true suffering, and it’s period cramps,” he says, clutching his chest. “From now on, I swear on my soul, I will treat you like the queen you are. From now on, during your period, I vow to never, ever bother you. In fact, I’ll treat you like royalty. You’ll want for nothing. You have my word.”
The Aftermath:
True to his promise, Rafayel becomes even more attentive, finding ways to make your life easier and more comfortable during that time of the month.
During your next period, Rafayel sets up a cozy movie marathon. He ensures you’re comfortable, surrounded by pillows and snacks, while he fetches anything you need.
“You shouldn’t even have to move during this time,” he says, adjusting your blanket.
Rafayel starts holding his tongue when he’d usually tease you about being grumpy or tired. Instead, he softens his tone and offers comfort.
“Cranky today?” he asks, then quickly holds up his hands. “Not judging. Just… Here, have this chocolate. And maybe don’t throw..” pauses mid-snark every time you are on your period now.
“You really don’t have to—”
He cuts you off, wagging a finger. “Nope! I have seen the light—and the pain. I will never bother you during this time again. In fact, I’ll personally fight anyone who does.”
XAVIER
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The Pitch:
It’s late evening, and the glow of dimmed lights barely keeps the shadows at bay. Xavier sits across from you, his neutral expression making his ghost story seem even eerier. His voice is steady, almost monotone, as he recounts the chilling tale of an N109 Wanderer cursed to roam forever.
“And then, the last person to see him claimed they felt his breath on their neck, even though they were alone,” he murmurs, his tone unwavering.
A shiver runs down your spine, but you can’t help but interrupt. “You’re really good at these creepy stories. Ever think you might scare yourself with anything at all?”
Xavier pauses, raising an eyebrow. “Are you trying to scare me?”
You laugh nervously. “No! I was just thinking about something I saw online. A period simulator. It looked like fun—or, well, not fun, but… interesting.”
He leans back slightly, his neutral mask slipping into the faintest smirk. “So, instead of scaring me, you want to torture me? Bold.”
“It’s not torture,” you counter. “Just… educational. And you’re good at handling pain, right?”
After a beat, Xavier shrugs. “If it’ll make you happy, sure.”
The Setup:
The next day, a text from Xavier lights up your phone:
“It’s here. Looks dystopian. Like something from the Ever’s labs.”
Curious and excited, you rush home. When you arrive, you find him sprawled on the couch, his hair slightly disheveled as though he just woke up from a nap.
He glances at you, his expression as neutral as ever, though there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “You look way too excited for this. I hope it’s not as bad as it looks.”
As you set up the simulator, Xavier leans back, arms folded behind his head. “Go ahead. I’ll just nap through this, like everything else.”
The Experiment:
You attach the simulator pads to Xavier’s abdomen and adjust the settings. He barely reacts as you activate it.
“I feel something,” he mutters, closing his eyes again. “It’s like… a soft vibration. Barely noticeable.” He shifts slightly, adjusting his head on the couch pillow. Xavier’s brow furrows slightly, the first sign of unease. “Alright. It’s like a cramp now,” he remarks, still lying down. “Not pleasant, but nothing worth waking up for.”
At level 4, Xavier’s breath hitches briefly. He sits up halfway, propping himself on his elbows. “Okay. This is… noticeable. Like someone twisting a knife in slow motion.”
He glances at you. “You feel this regularly? Seems inconvenient.”
You nod at him. "That's on a lucky day... it's worse usually."
When you dial up the intensity to level 5, Xavier sits up fully, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Alright. This is officially too much to nap through.” His usually even tone is edged with mild irritation.
He rubs at his side, his neutral expression faltering as he exhales through clenched teeth.
At level 6, Xavier winces visibly. His calm exterior cracks as he shifts uncomfortably. “Who thought this was a good idea? This is like… a fight I can’t win. But it’s inside me.”
He shoots you a tired glare. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
By the time you reach level 7, Xavier grips the couch’s armrest, his knuckles white. “This is insane!!" he mutters, his voice tight. “How do you even… move? Function? Exist?”
He closes his eyes and takes a slow, measured breath. “Alright, I’m impressed. But I hate this.”
When you push it to level 8, Xavier’s calm breaks completely. He groans, pulling the simulator pads off. “Nope. I’m done. This is where I draw the line.”
He leans back, pressing his hand against his abdomen. “You win. And I officially respect the crap out of you.”
The Aftermath:
From that day on, Xavier’s quiet attentiveness becomes more noticeable. He doesn’t make a big show of it…he’s still Xavier, after all. Whenever you look even slightly uncomfortable, he’s there with a heat pack, water, or a blanket, his movements calm and efficient.
One night, as you rest on the couch, he leans over, adjusting the blanket over your shoulders. “For what it’s worth,” he says softly, “if I could take that pain for you, I would.” When you casually mention feeling cramps, Xavier immediately stops what he’s doing.
“Don’t move,” he says, his neutral expression betraying his seriousness. “I’ll get you tea, chocolate, or… whatever else helps.”
When you protest, he shakes his head. “No arguments. I’ve been there…well, sort of…and I’m not letting you handle it alone.”
Xavier hands you a heat pack, his movements precise as he places it on your lower back.
“I read somewhere this helps,” he explains, his tone matter-of-fact. “And no, I’m not going to fall asleep while holding it for you. Probably... It’s nice and warm…”
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AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!
Taglist: @cordidy
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acid-ixx · 2 days ago
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i would not survive wayne manor if i had to stare into dick's y/n blue orbs everyday
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stop looking at me with those eyes! (again &. again mini drabble)
ft. post-kidnapped reader w/ yandere batfam shitpost
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reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
— masterlist ! ; related post !
thank u for sending this oh my god, i need to write about this!!! i absolutely love your art style for the reader, they're so handsome i'm crying and laughing 😭😭😭 and it's true!!! i will also die if i look at the entire family's eyes as a filipino who has never once stared at a foreigner's eyes because it's just so bright huhu.
unfortunately for your case though, your refusal to look straight at them just translates to extra unwanted counseling sessions with the family in one of the large expanses of the living rooms housing the available members for a meeting. it's a whole gathering where you're the center of attention.
and it's not only dick involved, it's also all the other blue-eyed bastards and an additional glowering, pair of green ones which shines the brightest of them all— and if not for cass and duke's dark colored peepers, you might've truly passed away because it's no joke that their eyes glint under the light passing through locked windows, especially when the sun is at its highest peak and hits at just the right angles to glisten.
not only have you no physical escape, but their obsessed stares never leave your form too, devouring and locking you whole in your place and claustrophobic to the chains of their bright-orbed gaze.
"(name), dear, as much as you don't wish for me to address the issue; it's becoming an unhealthy habit that you refuse to maintain eye contact with the family. it doesn't help that your heart palpitates, you perspire more often, and you make excuses to run to a different room when you do. what's wrong?"
you don't even have to look up from staring at your lap (as if you want to, hah!) to know it's your father's voice directed at you. it's a unique tremor that reverberates across the room and commands attention from all corners; yet when he speaks to you, it's coated with an unhealthily sweet reverence that seems completely foreign to someone who has never once spoken to him until now.
"u-uhm..." stuttering, you bite your lip, drowning in your own self-preservation that had you ignoring dick's stealthy steps to your seated body on the couch, only for his fingers to carefully graze on your chin, snapping you out of your attention yet being too late as he lifts your head up, forcing to stare at his wide-blown eyes.
they're unnaturally bright today, shining more than the beaches in those private islands bruce owns, it's even more terrifying that he's staring at you.
"it's unfair too... baby bird, that it's me you avoid the most," he groans, it grates at your ears but it was better to focus on your other senses if you wish to control the ever-living fear of miley cyrus' blue eyes burned right into your retina, now associated with dick's emboldened ones. his palms find its way to either side of your head, cradling it side to side, the contact forced you to continue staring ahead of him. and no matter how much you resort to blanking out, the intensity of his baby blue eyes forfeits you to focus on anything else.
yet it's the gentle graze on your side that encourages you to speak your mind, you really hate how infantilizing this entire scene feels, and comical that they're - dick - is taking your excuses too seriously.
"ah... well—" how do you explain that you're shit at eye-contact because, first, and can't deal with their luminescent stares pinning you down to your spot, brighter than diamonds and emerald crystals, second?
"everyone's just too... you know. i- i really can't explain without it sounding... uhm..."
"too overwhelming? too what? akhi/akhti? it has been years since we last took you in, and you've been perfectly communicating with us until now. what has changed? has that rebel, todd, dare to make another deal with you again which involves refusing to properly communicate with us? with me? because if he did—"
damian's voice slithers with conviction, condemnation and possessive threats that strike fear into your heart with every venom-laced word. if not for his head nuzzling into the shadows of your neck, the dichotomy of dialogue and action, you would've been convinced he's out to kill you instead.
yet the same gremlin muttering insults is your little brother who takes the entire space beside you on the velvety couch, rendering you completely cornered by his expecting glare. except now, unlike the mental torment he subjected to you, his green-eye gaze glimmers with concealed adoration you've learned to discern, he's always been a heckler for your attention; the tan hands wrapped around your waist in a snuggle tightens, not too tight that it deprives you of oxygen, but demands your answers instead.
like father, like son. as the saying goes. always finding solutions with unwanted affection. couldn't even push them away without them interpreting your actions as rebellion which only results in more uncomfortable competitions on who gets to cuddle you for longer.
and wait, no, they didn't take you in, bullshit! they basically kidnapped you. it's only that you've grown accustomed to dealing with them individually and as a group, but because they've been more lenient with technology, providing you access to wifi with supervised search results, you stumbled across one of , which not-so faintly reminds you of them.
your past traumas of them replaced with jaded motivation to survive and tolerate the ever living plague in your life you call your family.
bruce did advise you to associate them with positive things instead as a first step to your adjusting phase, and miley cyrus' anthropoidal, not-quite human stare isn't negative in any way, yet it's also by no means negative, if not unsettling— which leads you to a common ground, a common affiliation which helps you cope with the fear that they might harm you and isolate you with loneliness even further; forgetting your presence once again.
learning to love them was hard, so relating them to anything comical was way easier on the still-heavy burden in your heart which yearns for freedom burned off through countless of escape attempts, the grief of your mother's death now decades worth, and just the shock of it all that they're still interested in you until now that hasn't worn off still, despite the years passing by quicker than blowing off a candle-light.
still, everyone retains their gaze on you, never once breaking contact with your form as if you're capable of escaping their grasp. you try to look down, but to no avail, dick was too invested in hogging your head all to himself and nuzzling it in his toned stomach, whilst damian refuses to separate from his ever tightening hold which renders you unable to full grasp your thoughts and speak.
god-damned hypocrites.
"holy shit..." it's tim who broke off the silence, muttering under his breath in disbelief whilst his hand fiddles with the modded tablet bruce had given you as a christmas gift. his lanky finfers continue scrolling eyes fixated on the scene before him, every expression illuminated by the faint glow of your tablet's screen. the most visible feature, gazing at him through whichever was left of your vision unobstructed by dick's body; was of course, his widening blue eyes, as it seems like he'd hit jackpot with his appalled reactions.
it seems like he found the exact same picture.
would it be a bad thing now if you'd run away from the room once they all collectively hone in on the image before them? or is it too risky of a task?
honestly, with just how routine your life must be right now, you'd prefer to run, to feel the air run through your hair, to bask in the sun washing your body in its warmth.
maybe to find unbidden joy in another game of cat and mouse, or it may be another one of your excuses to avoid those piercing eyes once more if even by just a mere fraction.
or maybe you could stay for now, because is it just you, or did you actually succeed in traumatizing them for once instead of you?
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bombuni · 3 days ago
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Did.... did you say stuck-porn scenario San?? I'm gonna need that asap please👀 your writing is so yummylicious it's not even funny
rock & a hard place
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summary: your roommate lends a helping hand. genre/pairing: roommate!san x fem!reader warnings: smut 18+ mdni, softdom!san x reader, unwanted creampie, kinda size kink, slight dubcon, so pls read with caution :) bom note: me writing jongho smut after jongho smut and forcing myself to write other member smut - i can’t put down the cup, i can’t put down the cup💔💔
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You’re humiliated.
You’re not sure how you managed to fit your entire front half into the dryer, but the panic inside you is rising with every second that passes. The confined space of the machine is only making it worse as you try to fight your way out. Seriously, you swore this was only something that happens in porn.
You can’t even reach your phone. The last resort, the most embarrassing one, is to call your roommate.
Your voice is quiet at first, embarrassment shrouding your entirety. San is an understanding sweetheart, you know that, but he is unfortunately also one of the most handsome men you’ve seen. To have him seeing you like this, with practically naked in just your panties and bent over is what the kids call ‘an aura-loss.’
He comes running the second time you call for him, hearing the panic in your voice, “Are yo-ah.”
San covers his eyes at first, taken aback by the sight of your naked body. Even though you can’t see him gawking, he still feels too awkward to do it unashamedly. Your little plump ass is literally on display for him, in your adorable Hello Kitty patterned panties, and he can’t help it when his face sets on fire. Or when his shorts grow tight.
Hearing the realization in his voice only makes you want to disappear even more, “I’m so sorry, San, I was just getting my clothes. I don’t know how I got stuck.”
He’s still frozen in place and scared to touch you, “Don’t be sorry. I’m just-uhh. How do you want me to get you…out?”
San tries to psych himself up behind you, softly slapping himself as if that’ll get rid of his raging boner. He can’t rip his eyes away from your ass.
“Just-do what you need to, San.”
With your permission, San grabs your hips firmly. His hands send electrifying tingles throughout your body, but you have no choice but to ignore it. You don’t realize that San is fighting the same urge behind you, squeezing your hips and caressing your skin under the pretense that he’s finding a better grip. He never noticed how soft your skin is until now.
He pulls once, to no avail. The second time, he accidentally bumps against you with the force he uses. San mutters out a swear at the feeling, almost cumming right then and there. His hard-on isn’t helping, with every little inch he moves he’s in jeopardy of letting you know how hard he is.
But, he can’t help himself. You’re just so tempting, if anything it’s your fault for walking around like this. He rubs himself once on you, playing it off as an accidental touch, but he immediately needs more once he feels you. He’s dizzy with need, dizzy with you, and he just can’t resist the climbing urge he’s feeling to seize this opportunity you’ve presented him with.
San keens over, leaning onto the dryer in front of him, “Sh-shit,”
You feel him. You feel his desperate cock, his hot breath against your back, and the growing heat of his entire body. He feels your body shudder at the size of his bulge as it presses against you and he can’t help but think that maybe you want this just as bad as he does.
San tentatively inserts his fingers under the band of your panties, “Just-need better grip-hah-okay?”
“W-wait, San!”
He pulls your underwear off with one swift tug, groaning when he sees your slick glistening in the dim light. You’re shaking and he can’t help but find your little pathetic pleads adorable.
“You won’t get out of here until I help. So just let me help you, okay?”
He sounds so beautiful when he’s desperate and needy, and there’s really nothing you can do but submit to him. You don’t have time to react before you feel the cold metal of his rings rubbing through your folds. You hear his breathy moans as he continues exploring you, feel his shaky fingers trying their hardest to hold back. His other hand struggles to hurriedly get himself out of his sweatpants, already leaking and tip red with need. You suddenly feel San’s lips on the small of your back. A kind warning kiss, you fear, for what’s to come.
He whispers gently, as if trying not to scare you off, “You just can’t be walking around like this and expect not to be fucked, baby,”
The sound of his soft, gentle voice is like a key to your soul. You reply just as gently, “I know, Sannie, ‘m sorry…”
He drags his cock over your folds, surprising you. You can’t see what he’s doing, so every time he touches you it’s a complete shock to your senses. He seems to enjoy your little shivers and nervous shakes. He likes to see how vulnerable you are, how he’s in complete control of you and everything that’s happening to you. San keeps dragging himself between you, collecting your juices on himself.
He seems to drown in this feeling, swallowing every quiet whine you give and using it to fuel his domineering air, “Really, you did this on purpose-shit-just to get me to fuck your brains out. Why didn’t you just ask, dolly?”
“It wasn’t on purpose…”
“So cute. Your little, wet pussy is dripping, baby. You like this, don’t you? You like it when I force you to get fucked?”
San doesn’t even give you the chance to respond before sliding his cock inside of you. He shushes you when you complain, holding your arms back and still so you don’t hurt yourself. Although he likes watching your little shakes of defiance, how adorably useless you are against him. He soothes you through the stretch of him, groaning alongside your whines as he feels you suck him in.
He bottoms out, whining as you clench around his length, “No, no, dolly, quit that. I’ll cum in your tiny pussy, we don’t want that, do we?”
You aggressively shake your head as San starts to fuck you, all caution thrown to the wind with his harsh thrusts. You’re embarrassed by your loud squelching, but you hardly have time to think about that with San’s length hitting practically every inch of your insides. His moans are adorably whiny, breathy as the barely-there restraint leaves his body and he fucks you with even more vigor. He’s spurred on by the feeling of your tiny body against his, your pathetic attempts of freeing yourself only adding to his pleasure.
“Hah-you’re so tight, sweetheart. I really can’t help myself, might have to claim you forever,”
“S-sannie, no, I said no-“
He’s rabid in his taking of you, holding your wrists tight as he grows closer to the edge, “Oh, god, you’re so cute, this tiny, little pussy’s gonna be mine forever-“
“San!”
San holds your hips tight, fingernails digging into your skin and moaning sweetly as he pulls you into him, his cum flowing freely inside you. He pulls so hard in the haze of his orgasm that your entire body falls back with the force and onto him.
He’s still in the throes of his orgasm, yelping as you fall onto him and he lands on the floor. It’s cold against his ass cheeks, and he’s blushing hard once the post-nut realization hits that he came so hard he managed to pop you out. San decides this is probably on his list of worst orgasms.
Your face is flushed as you turn to him, “That’s what you get for cumming inside.”
He has the decency to look sheepish, “Sorry…”
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dollyfiles · 1 day ago
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asking bsf!rafe to take your virginity
cw: rafe x fem!reader, best friends to lovers, soft dom!rafe, first time, kissing, fingering, praise, p in v (protected), degradation, fluffy, i got a little carried away so it’s kinda long..whops
“so that’s why you’re acting all akward ‘n shit?” rafe asked, leaning back against the headboard of his bed, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you. his tone was calm, though curiosity and concern laced his words. you nodded, pulling your knees to your chest as you sat cross-legged on his bed. “yea…that’s it,” you muttered, heat creeping up your cheeks. “it’s stupid, i know.”
“it’s not stupid,” rafe said immediately, his brows furrowing. “but seriously, y/n… that’s the only reason?”, “yes..” you admitted, feeling embarrassed. “and i already get it, okay? you can save your dumb jokes and make fun of me later, just like the girls did.”
rafe’s expression softened. “you think i’m gonna make fun of you? c’mon, i’m not an asshole.” you glanced at him, the sincerity in his voice easing your nerves slightly. “it’s just—” you sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “i feel like a complete loser. i mean, almost 20 and still a virgin? how pathetic is that?”
“it’s not pathetic,” rafe said firmly, his voice steady. “why would it even matter? it’s not like there’s a deadline for this stuff.” you huffed, “you don’t get it,” frustration bubbling up again. “it’s not just that. tay and jill were sitting there, sharing their stories, and i couldn’t say anything. i felt like a freaking clueless kid, rafe. i don’t want to feel like that anymore. i just…i just want it to be over with already.”
rafe studied you carefully, his jaw tightening as he thought over your words. “y/n,” he started, his voice gentle but firm, “you don’t have to rush into something just because—”
“then you do it,” you blurted out, words tumbling from your lips before you could stop yourself. the room went completely silent, and you immediately regretted how direct you had been, cheeks burning as you looked at rafe, his eye wide and face turning pale as he processed what you’d just said.
“wait—what?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly, though he quickly recovered, “are you serious?” you swallowed hard, heart racing, but instead of chickening out, you met his gaze. “yea, I’m serious,” you said, “i don't want it to be with some random guy, and i don't want to feel like this anymore. i want it to be with someone i trust. and you’re the only person I trust, rafe.“
he blinked, processing what you were asking for. and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. you were his best friend, the one person he’d always been closest to, and now you were asking him to take your virginity. a million thoughts ran through his head, but one stood out; the idea of being your first didn’t just excite him—it drove him fucking wild. yet he tried to compose himself.
“y/n…” he began, feeling his resolve crumbling under the weight of your words. “are you sure about this? i mean, i don’t want you to regret anything.” you nodded, “i’m sure,” fidgeting with your shirt, “i trust you, rafe. i wouldn’t ask if i didn’t.”
he hesitated, the weight of your trust settling over him. “you’re really serious about this,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “i am,” you said, leaning forward slightly, your eyes locked on his. “you’re the person I feel the safest with, ray. please, teach me.”
the way you said it—the trust in your voice, the vulnerability—made his heart race. he swallowed hard, his throat dry, and nodded slightly. "okay," he murmured, leaning closer, his eyes piercing through yours.
rafe moved slowly, giving you every opportunity to back out. his hand cupped your cheek as he leaned in, your lips brushing only softly at first. but as you responded, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, the kiss deepened, growing more intense.
your breaths mingled, and rafe's hands moved to your waist, guiding you gently as he eased you back onto the bed. "tell me if you want to stop," he whispered against your lips, his voice low and warm.
"i won't," you assured him, biting your lip in anticipation. even though you felt super nervous, rafe’s presence calmed you down, his touch sending sparks through you. just then his fingers paused at the hem of your shirt, looking up at you with soft eyes, "can i...?"
"yes," you whispered. rafe slid the fabric up slowly, his movements deliberate and respectful. every step, every touch, was cautious, ensuring you were comfortable. he tossed the shirt aside, followed by your shorts, going until you were bare. his hands grazed your skin, pulling back slightly to take in your naked form, his breath catching in his throat.
he had seen you in bikinis countless times before, even underwear, but this—this was entirely different. the soft curves of your body, the delicate flush of your skin, the way your chest rose and fell with every nervous breath—he was utterly captivated. the fact that you had chosen him to be your first left him star-struck, a mixture of awe and protectiveness washing over him.
he swallowed hard, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin as though afraid to break you. his voice was thick with emotion as he murmured, "you're fucking perfect." you gave him a small, shy smile, your hands fidgeting slightly at your sides. rafe leaned down, kissing your shoulder, your collarbone, and the curve of your neck.
he could feel you relax beneath him, your body responding to his every move. when he reached just at your lower stomach, he paused, looking up at you with quiet intensity. "you tell me if anything feels wrong, okay?" you nodded, your heart racing. "mhm."
rafe’s hand slid lower, his fingers brushing against the sensitive spot between your thighs, rubbing your clit in soft circles. the contact made you gasp, and he froze for a second, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. when he saw none he continued, his touch gentle and deliberate.
“it might feel weird or sting a little, okay? but I’ll be gentle, i promise.” he worked slowly, his fingers softly brushing through your slick folds before pushing one past your entrance. your breath hitched, winching slightly as his thick digit thrusted in and out of you, soon each motion eased the slight pain into something far more enjoyable.
rafe couldn't help but smile softly at your reactions, pride swelling in his chest as he watched you fall apart beneath his touch. "you’re doing so good," he cooed, his voice low and soothing.
your hands gripped the sheets, breaths coming faster, your head tipping back as waves of sensation washed over you. rafe stayed completely focused on you, his own desire burning inside him, but he pushed it aside. this wasn't about him. it was about you—your pleasure, your comfort, your first time being something you would never regret.
just as you felt yourself fall completely into it rafe removed his fingers from your weeping cunt, making you whine at the sudden loss of his touch. “shit, really can’t wait, can ya?” he teased, removing his own clothes before grabbing a condom from his wallet, pumping his cock a few times before rolling it down his shaft.
your breath caught in your throat as rafe stood before you, fully bare. you had expected to feel shy or embarrassed, but instead, an overwhelming sense of awe washed over you. he was perfect. his lean, sculpted body was like something out of a dream, every muscle defined, every line sharp, a literal walking god. your gaze lingered on his chest, his arms, trailing lower despite your best efforts to stop yourself. the heat in your face spread all the way to your core, and you bit your lip, trying not to openly gape at him.
rafe caught the way your eyes were literally ripping at him, the way your lips parted slightly, eyes wide with something that made his heart race and his ego burst out the roof. he chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through the room.
your eyes were fixed on him, your heart fluttering. as he moved closer, preparing to guide you into unfamiliar territory, he noticed the nervousness flicker in your eyes. your body tensed slightly beneath him, and your breaths quickened, though you didn't pull away.
"hey," he murmured, his voice soft, his hand cupping your cheek gently. "look at me." your gaze met his, and the warmth in his eyes immediately soothed some of your nerves. "you don't have to be nervous," he said, brushing his thumb along your jawline. you nodded, chest tightening at the sincerity in his voice. "i know," you whispered. "i trust you, rafe."
"good," he murmured, pressing his lips onto yours while lining himself up with your entrance, his tip brushing against your puffy clit before slowly pushing inside, making you audibly gasp. he was big, actually huge, stretching you out completely. when you winced slightly, he paused, pressing soothing kisses to your cheeks, making sure you were good to go before he started rocking his hips slowly.
your hands gripped his shoulders, your body gradually relaxing under his touch, the pleasure only growing from there. rafe was careful, controlled, making sure you felt comfortable and safe. and as you grew more confident, your hands began to roam over his body, nails digging into his back as quiet whimpers escaped your lips.
"rafe," you murmured breathlessly. he paused instantly, concern flickering in his gaze. "you okay?" he asked, brushing your hair back from your flushed face. your cheeks burned, and you hesitated for a moment before looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "i want...i need more. be rougher with me, please."
rafe froze, your words igniting something deep inside him. he studied your face, searching for any trace of doubt. but your expression was certain, eyes dark with desire. "y/n..." he began, his voice low, almost strained, "are you sure?"
"yes," you whispered, voice trembling but filled with need "want you, ray. all of you." your words snapped the last thread of his restraint. his lips crashed against yours, the kiss no longer soft and tentative but harsh, almost hungry. his hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer as a low growl escaped his throat.
"you have no idea what you're doing to me," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, edged with desire. "you’re so damn perfect, letting me be your first. do you know how crazy that drives me?"
your breath hitched at his words, body arching beneath him. you hadn't expected the heat that surged through you at the sound of his growly voice, making your head spin. "tell me," you whispered, voice shaking, “tell me everything."
his lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he grunted, "you’re such a naughty little bunny. letting your best friend pop your cherry like this. shit—do you know how bad i’ve wanted you? how many times i’ve imagined this?" your gasp turned into a moan, your hands clutching at his shoulders, cunt clenching around his cock. "rafe..."
"you like that, huh?" he murmured, his voice dripping with need. "you like knowing how much i’ve wanted you? how long i’ve been holding back on pounding this sweet pussy?" he bit down on your shoulder, soothing the spot with his tongue as his grip on your hips tightened.
you could barely form a sentence, your mind going all fuzzy from his words and the way he made you feel. "yes," you breathed. "i love it.” rafe huffed, “say it again," he commanded, his tone firm as his movements grew more intense, abusing your wet cunt. "say you fucking love it."
"i love it," you cried out, voice breaking as you felt a tight knot forming in your lower stomach, his hips meeting yours with every thrust, "love it so much."
that broke something inside him. he couldn't hold back anymore, his movements turning fierce and desperate, thrusting into you harder, his hands and lips claiming every inch of you as his own. “that’s my girl.” he smiled through gritted teeth, feeling your cunt clench around him tighter, “gonna cum for me pretty bunny? make a mess all over my cock?”
you couldn’t hold it in anymore, arching your back as your head pressed down into the pillows, your orgasm rushing over you while crying out his name. rafe was absolutely going crazy, the sight of you cuming because of him was heaven sent, making him moan.
"you’re mine, y/n," he growled, his voice a low rumble in your ear as he helped you ride out your orgasm, “do ya’ hear me? you’re mine now. no one else gets to touch you like this."
"yes" you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair. "only you, ray." his movements grew sloppier the closer he got to releasing, his hips bucking into you, cock twitching inside your pulsing cunt as he filled up the condom with his seed, “fucking shit..”
the room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing as rafe hovered over you, his arms trembling slightly as he held himself up. his chest rose and fell against yours, his cock still buried inside you. your hands were resting on his shoulders, fingers tracing the faint lines of his muscles as you tried to catch your breath. your cheeks were flushed, hair messy and splayed out on the pillow beneath, but to rafe, you had never looked more beautiful.
he dipped his head, brushing soft, featherlight kisses along your jawline, then your cheek, and finally your lips. “you’re amazing," he murmured against your skin, his voice low and breathless. "so good. you were so, so good." he pressed another kiss to the curve of your neck before meeting your gaze, his blue eyes shining with admiration. "you have no idea how proud i am of you."
you let out a soft laugh, still trying to process everything. "i don't think anyone's ever said that to me... like this," you whispered, voice tinged with a slight shyness. "well, get used to it," rafe said with a small smirk, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "because i'm never letting you go now."
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tags: @rafesbangs @rafesheaven @littlelamy @vampteeths @filthyrafe @figthoughts @pintrestgrl @kissyrafe @bambiangels @beausling @starzify
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reignpage · 1 day ago
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Finders Keepers
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Summary: in which alien!reader crash lands right in front of Gojo and your story with him begins Word Count: 1k (just trialing a new concept so it's a quick opening) Warnings: a little cursing, allusions to experimentation and alien warfare, reader is naked but not in a sexual manner
“I can’t believe aliens actually exist,” Satoru mutters to himself. 
This has been an incredibly wild evening. 
When he stepped out of his apartment to throw the bins out, he hadn’t expected to see a blinding flash of light zoom past him and explode in the parking lot. Thank goodness for his infinity, otherwise he would not have fared as well as the minivan you landed on. 
Yes. 
You.
The woman who came straight from the sky and fell on top of a car, missing him by just two metres.
At first, he thought it was a curse; these things get pretty weird sometimes, after all. But using his Six Eyes, he could tell you were different. Sure, you looked like any other person, with arms and legs and a head. But you had a unique aura to you, positively otherworldly. 
If he was any other kind of man, he would have just left you there and pretended nothing happened — ignorance is bliss and whatnot — but what kind of Honoured One would he be if he didn’t do his duty and helped you out?
So, he slides down the massive crater you made (boy is that going to be a pain for maintenance to clean up) and carefully cradles your naked body in his arms, carefully so as to not touch bits and pieces no gentleman has a business looking at. Why are you naked anyways? 
Sensing people making their way down the stairs to inspect the commotion, he teleports back into his apartment quick as a flash before anyone could think to look through their windows. 
He throws a blanket at you and leaves you on the sofa as he paces the length of his living room and ponders what to do. On one hand, he could call the police and leave it up to them to deal with you. The government would know best about how to deal about falling space women, right? But then, don’t all the sci-fi movies talk about inhumane experimentation, weaponizing alien technology, and Area 51? 
That wouldn’t be a very nice thing to do, at all. 
And on the other hand, he could just take care of you himself. He has the means to, that’s for sure. You really don’t look any different from everyone else — surely, you need the same things he does: food, water, shelter and warmth.
Right?
Just as he’s about to pick up the phone to call his doctor friend, you begin rousing from sleep. Your eyes flutter open and they’re a normal colour, which freaks him out more if he’s going to be perfectly honest. 
“Uh,” Satoru scratches the back of his neck, shuffling on his feet a little, “hey? I’m Gojo Satoru. You can just call me Satoru, though. If you want, or can, I guess.”
You tilt your head, scanning his body, and you open your mouth. What comes out is definitely an alien language. Or maybe he needs to travel more. But he certainly does not comprehend a single thing that you say. 
Clearing his throat, he tries to smile comfortingly. “Okay, so I didn’t understand what you said. Sorry. But uh, do you need anything? Like, do you know where you are? Yeah, you definitely don’t know what I’m saying either, do you?”
You tilt your head again. 
“What is wrong with me? Seriously. What was I thinking bringing you home? You may have fallen from the sky but I’m the one that clearly hit my head. I really am an idiot.”
Glancing around the room, you don’t look any bit as frazzled and panicked as he is. Actually, you’re as cool as a cucumber, and there isn’t a hint of shame or embarrassment on your face when you push yourself off the sofa, blanket sliding down your body. 
“Woah! Woah!”
Satoru presses his hands to his eyes and leaves them there for a second or two before realising that does absolutely nothing and when he pulls them down, he doesn’t flinch when you’re standing before him, inquisitive eyes meeting his. 
His infinity is on and he’s ready to subdue you if you prove to be a threat, but so far, he’s simply letting you reorient yourself, getting used to your surroundings and giving you the opportunity to decide he’s not a bad guy. 
That being said, however, he’s still deciding whether to keep you or not. He doesn’t want you to be poked and prodded — that wouldn’t be a very cool welcome to planet Earth and he doesn’t need you to go around telling your alien friends humans suck, though they do. But he also doesn’t know if that’s the best decision. 
You could be a danger to jujitsu society, to his students, to the world. What if, right at this very moment, you’re leaking deadly radiation? And what if his infinity can’t keep it out? Can’t keep you out?
Gosh, there are so many things that could go wrong. 
It’s entirely possible too that you’re a blood sucking monster intent on wringing him dry for all he’s worth. Maybe you’re not even an alien. Maybe you’re a special kind of curse, the kind that can bypass his Six Eyes, though he’s fairly confident that’s not the case (there’s no one stronger than him, after all). 
What if this is Kenjaku all over again?
Yeah, on second thought, he should definitely call the police. Or Ijichi, or the Prime Minister of Japan, or whoever will believe him when he says there’s a naked, alien lady in his home, and no, he’s not a pervert playing out some sick fantasy.
But just as he’s lifting his phone, you lift your hand the same time he does and cover your eyes. 
Then you say his name in perfect Japanese with a sweet, soft voice, not a hint of hesitation or unsteadiness. You smile, eyes still obscured, and he feels himself mirroring your gleeful expression. 
“That’s right. I’m Satoru. It’s nice to meet you.”
He decides, there and then, to hell with radiation, alien armies, and the deadly risk you pose to everything he knows or cares about. The military, conspiracy theorists, and scientists be damned.
He’s going to keep you. 
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redcherrykook · 2 days ago
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──── ๋࣭ ⭑ sleepyhead ! ( f )
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‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿
↳ part of 𝓦𝓗𝓘𝓢𝓚𝓔𝓨 ꩜ .ᐟ
❝ [ husband!Jungkoook universe] ¡! ❞
✎ summary: waking up in your husbands arms after the first night in the new house, lots of cuddles
note from cherry: first full (but short) fic of this universe! yay lmk what you think mwah
‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿
white cotton sheets have never felt this good. soft, feather like pillows that let you sink down into the graceful sleep that, according to your husband, a princess like you deserves.
sunlight, as powerful as it is, sometimes feels as though it's conscious- adjusting its blinding light to gently trace the lines of people, enlighten their beauty with the upmost compliment the world can offer, sun kissed. decorated.
Jungkook feels the butterflies run rampage within his stomach while the streakes of nature do just what he's longing to- kiss your features softly. cautiously presuming, his pointer runs the imaginary tracks on your skin, circling your cheek that's pressed against the creme pillow, up the bridge of your nose eliciting huffs of sleep, back down to the bow of your parted lips
"morning baby" he mutters, watching your eyelids flutter open in a dream induced haze, before you take to yawn out the remains, rub your eyes to register the arrival of a new day.
"mhh, morning kook" your groggy voice makes him chuckle, pressing a small rewarding kiss to your forehead- you've never been one to wake up fast nor happy.
"how'd you sleep hm? is the new house's feng shui to your liking?" he half jokes- knowing how seriously you took the lectures of his mother, how the furniture should be placed not to interrupt the positive flow of energy in a newly weds house.
It worked, at least you've never felt this comfortable. although that's likely due to the confines of your husbands muscular arms tugging you torwards his chest- it smells like home.
the raspy, morning tainted tone of his voice makes you rub your head into his shoulder, wanting to bathe in his comfort, his warm, domesticness.
"it's perfect. this bed was the best decision we ever made" you giggle, letting him thread his long digits through the tumbled mess of your hair
Silence settles, unlike a sleeping state, both of your eyes are torn fully open, focused wordlessy on the face of your lovers
the little scar and moles on his cheek call out to your lips, pecking each miniscule detail with the whole of your heart, his wandering hands lead up under your shirt to explore the skin of your back, pulling you to rest on top of him, pressed- almost melted into one by the closeness you share.
he chuckles warmly, rubbing the flat tip of his button nose against yours,
"hungry ma? I can make you breakfast if you want" he suggests, pulling a string of hairs away from the countours of your rosy cheeks
"mhm, that'd be great. we have to paint the living room today" the reminder makes him fake a small cry before resuming to his airy chuckles, trailing small kisses on your temple while ignoring how his stomach growls, indulging into your sweet attention further
"I'll do it. I know you hate painting, just look for furniture you want online" he responds, knowing full well it might take hours more to complete it. not that he cares, Jeon Jungkook would take it upon himself to do anything his wife asked for,
which is precisely why your thighs wrap around his torso as he carries you to the spacious kitchen, hands playfully squeezing at the cheeks of your rear, knowing he'll have to sit you down on the cool marble counter soon.
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coqhee · 23 hours ago
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LOSE MY BREATH
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✷ enhypen's reaction to wearing what you wore on your first date
day 24 of melodies to memories ― ot7 x f!r fluff ⨯ petnames skinship kissing ⨯ 1607
em's note ★ not really an advent anymore is it but that's ok!! i refuse to abandon this since we're really just 2 fics off (one now!!)
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─── ♡
LEE HEESEUNG
heeseung would be coming home from work ready to go out on your date then WOW
tries to play it cool at first, giving you his usual charming smile, but you can see the way his gaze lingers
quickly tries to recompose his cocky-sweet persona, and makes sure you know how perfect you are
“hi bab- woah” he’d say as he looks up after putting his bag down.
“hm?” you pretend to mindlessly hum as if you didn’t plan it, smoothing down the fabric of your dress as if it was just another one of those expensive dresses he’d buy you.
“you look prettier than the first time i saw you in this” heeseung grinned, looking you up and down.
“oh, please,” you laugh, rolling your eyes, but he doesn’t miss the way your cheeks flush at his words.
he smirks knowingly, stepping closer and tilting his head slightly. “no wonder why you asked to go to that shitty diner again,” he snapped, the pieces all falling into place.
“mmhm,” you hum again, this time a bit smug as you shrug. 
“c'mon let’s go get food poisoning or something,” he leans in close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before taking your hand in his and leading you out to the car. 
more under the cut!
─── ♡
PARK JONGSEONG
comes home with roses then BOOM jaw on the floor
it’s not even that he recognizes that you’re wearing what you wore on your first date he just thinks you look absolutely stunning
being the gentleman he is, when he does realize, he’s sending compliments your way the whooole night
“you look amazing, sweetheart,” jay quickly regained his composure with a smile on his face after seeing you in the same stunning dress.
“notice anyyything different?” you asked, drawing out the words teasingly.
he narrows his eyes playfully, stepping closer to you with a hand rubbing his chin in mock thought. “hmm, let’s see… is it the shoes? no, wait—it’s the way you’re absolutely glowing right now.”
“mm mm” you hum out loud while he takes one long look and realizes.
“no way,” he breathes, his smile growing impossibly wider as he steps even closer, his hands gently resting on your waist, reality clicking in “you actually kept it all this time?”
you nod and grin, pleased with his reaction.
─── ♡
SIM JAEYUN
poor bro doesn’t even realize cause he’s just so in love with everything you wear
as soon as you tell him though he’s running back to his room to find that dorky striped shirt he was wearing
he’s trying to recreate EVERYTHING from that first date
“you really don’t recognize what i'm wearing?” you sigh feeling a little disappointed, yet incredibly understandable from jake’s perspective. you have way too many outfits for your own good.
“i seriously don’t know angel, im so sorry,” he pleads, scratching his head desperately trying to figure it out.
“it’s what i wore on our first date,” 
"no way." jake’s voice drops to a whisper, as if he’s just uncovered the biggest secret of the century.
you nod, your grin growing wider as you cross your arms. "way."
his face drops to a look of shock and runs to his room. a minute later, he emerges, proudly wearing the very green and white long-sleeved shirt he had donned on your first date. the one that was a little too big on him back then, and still is now, though it somehow manages to look even cuter.
“ta-da!” he exclaims, throwing his arms out with a grin, though it falters slightly when he notices the faint ketchup stain still adorning the hem.
“oh my god, jake,” you laugh, covering your face with your hands. “you kept that?”
"of course i did," he says, feigning offense as he spins in place to show off the shirt. "this bad boy is iconic. and now, we match." as he extends his hand to help you up from the couch, pulling you into his arms for an embrace while smiling into your neck.
─── ♡
PARK SUNGHOON
immediately notices since he bought it for you so you could accompany him to some charity gala his parents asked him to bring a date to
he’s fully in the moment asking you to do a spin for him, again and again
he don’t gaf about the date anymore
“i think you made it prettier than it was already,” he smiles warmly
you can’t help the heat rising to your cheeks at his words, his warm gaze making you feel like the most precious thing in the world.
“oh, stop,” you mumble, swatting lightly at his chest, though the smile pulling at your lips betrays your feigned humbleness.
“what?” he teases, catching your hand mid-swat and holding it on his own. “i’m just being honest. you make everything look better—always have.”
you roll your eyes, but your heart is beating just a little faster. “you really don’t have to lay it on so thick, hoon. it’s just an outfit.”
“just an outfit?” he repeats, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. “baby, this is the outfit. the one that made me think, ‘wow, i’ve got to do everything i can to make sure i get a second date with her.’”
you laugh, shaking your head. “you’re so dramatic.”
─── ♡
KIM SUNOO
of course he’d remember that outfit cause you chose to match on your first date as if you were already a couple
though actually, you didn’t even remember what you wore and he’s the one to call you out
he’d fake pout and be dramatic about how you don’t love him
“you realize what you’re wearing right?” sunoo asked with a crinkle of his nose from smiling seeing you in it.
“huh? is something wrong? i know it’s a little small on me now, but i haven’t worn it in a while,” you say worried, checking yourself out in the mirror feeling a slight bit of self doubt.
“what? no it looks great sunshine, don’t worry. you look amazing as always” he reassured, stepping closer, his hands brushing against your waist as if to emphasize his point. “it’s just… that’s what you wore on our first date. is it some special occasion?”
“oh it is! no wonder i haven’t worn it in a while,” you saw his face shift immediately into a pout.
“you really don’t remember? are you sure you even love me?” he asked, fake wiping a tear from his cheek.
you couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic tone, rolling your eyes. “oh, stop it. of course i love you, you big baby.”
─── ♡
YANG JUNGWON
another bf that remembers for SURE!!
you two weren’t even going out anywhere but he thought he’d clean out your closet for you as a favor since it was a mess and the second he laid his eyes on it he wanted you to wear it again
jaw dropped eyes bulging yet hyping you up at the same time saying you should live in that outfit. 
“baby c'mere,” jungwon called out from your room.
“yeah?”
“put this on,” he’d hold out a lump of clothes and you quickly took the pile and changed in the bathroom.
you stepped out of the bathroom, the clothes now on you, and he looked up from his phone, a wide grin spreading across his face.
“you look—" he paused, clearly taking in your appearance with a pleased expression, "absolutely perfect. this is what i was imagining the whole time.”
you raised an eyebrow, a bit of confusion flickering in your mind. “seriously won? it’s just a hoodie and jeans.”
“yeah but it’s the hoodie and jeans you wore on out first date, and you look amazing.” you rolled your eyes at his praise
“mmkay loverboy,” you giggled pulling him in for a small kiss before heading back out to the kitchen.
─── ♡
NISHIMURA RIKI
surprise surprise, your first date outfit was his hoodie cause you spilled on your shirt 5 minutes in
of course he likes seeing you in his hoodie and he can’t help but wanna giggle on the inside but he’s gotta keep the nonchalant act up
complain about you taking specifically that hoodie but it basically became yours the second you put it on
“i swear, do you only like the hoodie cause i gave it to you on our first date?” riki asked with mock annoyance when he saw you in it, waiting for you to get ready faster.
“mayybe maybe not, either way im still gonna wear it,” you smirked running past him to the door to put your shoes on. 
“hey, no fair!” he called after you, his voice light and teasing. “you can’t just run away from me like that, especially when you know how much i love seeing you in that hoodie.”
you shot him a playful glance over your shoulder, pausing for just a second before continuing to slip on your shoes. “oh, i’m just giving you a little taste of what it was like back then. you remember how i looked when i first wore it, right?” you teased.
he brought his nose down to sniff the clothing scrunching his nose. “now it smells all like you,” he sighed, joking with no actual complaint in sight. “guess i have to get myself a new one,”
“oh shut up, you like when i wear this hoodie so stop whining and lets go,” you rolled your eyes as you turned around to look at him smiling at the tall man, admiring the way his eyes gleamed in adoration.
─── ♡
melodies to memories tl (open!): @wonziz @hhmnya @ourhees @lovuegi @letmein2urheart @firstclassjaylee @ancnymcnzjy
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@ coqhee 2025. all rights reserved
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lanf1an · 3 days ago
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SEASONS lando norris x fewtrell sister pt.2 - january 5 2025
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pt.1 pt.3 pt.4
wordcount: 1810
The door of the ski lodge burst open, making you look up from your drink. Max appeared, the rest of the group having found Lando and you, waving and dragging his snowboard behind him, with Dylan close on his heels. Flo and Cisca followed.
“Absolute perfection out there,” Max declared, his grin as wide as the horizon. He dropped into the chair across from you and immediately launched into a story about his wipeout. Dylan followed, unstrapping his boots with practiced ease.
“Max, you forgot to mention the part where I saved your ass after you faceplanted.”
“Details,” Max said with a dismissive wave before turning to Lando. “Hey, Lan, you know what I’ve been thinking? Quadrant should sponsor Dylan.”
Lando raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Why not?” Max said, gesturing toward Dylan. “He’s Red Bull-sponsored already, and he’s basically a legend. Plus, Dylan would kill it in the merch.”
Dylan laughed, shaking his head. “I appreciate the thought, but I’m not exactly esports material, and I think Lando’s got the whole ‘speed’ thing covered.”
Lando leaned back in his chair, considering. “It’s not a bad idea. Could bring a new vibe to the team, snowboarding isn’t racing.” 
“Exactly!” Max exclaimed, clearly pleased with himself.
The conversation drifted as the group packed up their stuff and made their way back to the lodge. You watched Dylan joking with Cisca, Cisca had dragged Dylan into a conversation about snowboarding tricks and she was clustered to his lips, he was laughing as he sketched a move with his hands.“You’ve got to teach me that,” she said, eyes wide with excitement. “Anytime” Dylan said with a grin. his easy charm blending seamlessly with the group, and you couldn’t help but feel a swell of affection for him. 
Later, back at the lodge, Magui arrived, her presence lighting up the room. Lando was quick to meet her by the doorway, pulling her into a easy kiss before taking her coat. They looked perfect together, the F1 driver and the model—a picture straight out of a magazine. Their reunion was quiet and easy, as though they were used to these quick and fleeting moments together. This time she was also only staying for a few days.
You turned back to the kitchen, focusing on the mugs of hot chocolate you were preparing. Dylan leaned in the door opening, watching you with a soft smile.
“Should I take over?” he asked. “You’ve been hostess of the year this trip.”
You laughed, handing him a steaming mug. “I think I’ve got it under control. Go mingle.”
He gave you a mock salute and wandered back to join the others
You busied yourself setting the table for dinner, Lando helping. 
Dinner was a lively affair, with Max recounting his earlier escapades and Cisca chiming in with sarcastic commentary. Magui's laugh ringing out at all the right moments, but mostly at Lando’s stories, which were less frequent since they were having quiet conversations with the two of them, keeping to themselves, her hand resting on Lando’s arm as if it belonged there.
As the evening wore on, the group moved from dinner to games and then to music and dancing. The wine flowed freely, laughter and warmth filling the lodge. By the time the night wound down, most of the group was sprawled across the couches and floor, drowsy but content.
You found yourself beside Lando on the couch, the fire casting a warm glow over the room. He leaned against the armrest, his half-empty glass of wine dangling from his fingers. His gaze was fixed on the flickering flames.
“You okay?” you asked softly, tucking your feet beneath you.
Lando turned to you, his usual smirk replaced with something quieter. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”
“Dangerous territory for you,” you teased, nudging his shoulder.
He huffed a laugh. “You’re hilarious.”
You sat in comfortable silence for a moment before he spoke again, his voice quieter. “Do you ever feel like… like you’re just going through the motions?” Lando asked suddenly, his voice low. “Like you’re living the life everyone expects you to, but it’s not really yours?”
You blinked confused, caught off guard by his sudden unexpected choice of subject. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged, swirling the wine in his glass. “Magui’s great. She is. But sometimes I wonder if we’re together because we want to be or because it just… fits the narrative. F1 driver and model. Picture-perfect.”
You didn’t respond immediately, sensing he needed to say more.
“You and Dylan…” Lando continued, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “You guys are so natural. You actually know each other, and it works. It’s real. I want that. Something real.”
“Lando…” you started, unsure of what to say. “You’ll have that too. You’ve never even wanted that yet—focusing on racing, and look where that’s brought you.”
“You know what, Fewtrell? You’ve got it good with Dylan. That’s what I want. Someone who actually gets me. Not just someone who… looks good on my arm.” Lando repeated himself. 
“You’re drunk, Lan.” you concluded.
“No, I mean it. F1 relationships… they’re all the same. Shallow. Temporary. But you and Dylan… that’s real. I want that.”
You sensed he wasn't going to give it a break. You gave a short laugh, shaking your head. “Lando, you haven’t even been looking for something real.” you also repeated yourself, hoping he would hear it now.
He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ve been focused on winning races and kissing other girls in clubs,” you shot back, tone light but edged with meaning. “You don’t get to complain about not having something real when you’ve never made room for it.”
Lando winced, the guilt flashing across his face. You know you should judge him for it—anyone else, and you probably would have. But you also knew his world was different. A life on the road, racing nearly every weekend, with a level of attention and temptation most people couldn’t imagine.
You softened slightly. “Look, I know it’s hard. F1 relationships aren’t exactly a blueprint for stability. You barely see each other because you’re always traveling, and there are... distractions. But if you really want something real, it’s not going to fall into your lap. You’ve got to make space for it.”
“How do you know I haven’t?” he said defensively, though the edge in his voice was weaker now.
“Because I know you,”
His shoulders sagged, and the guilt returned, more evident this time. “Okay. Maybe I haven’t. But I want it now,” he said, quieter, almost like a confession.
You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh, so now you’ve decided you want it all?”
He frowned slightly, unsure where you were going with this.
“You know, the McLaren constructor’s championship, driver’s world champion…” You gestured vaguely, your tone laced with playful sarcasm. “You can’t have everything, Lando. Life doesn’t work that way.’’ 
Lando leaned his head back against the couch, his gaze flickering to you. “You’re probably right.”
“Of course, I’m always right,” you said, sticking out your tongue, having had enough of this serious conversation this late at night, sleepiness taking over. 
He glanced at you, a faint smirk forming. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
— London, november 14 2015
At sixteen year old, it had felt like a disaster. Not in a catastrophic way—nothing earth-shattering had gone wrong—but in a teenage life it was one of the worst things. Her first time with her then-boyfriend, a sweet enough guy who she thought had cared. She’d expected… something. Fireworks, a sense of closeness, maybe even just a feeling of satisfaction. But all she’d been left with was disappointment  and a desperate need to shake it off.
When Max hadn’t answered her texts, she’d turned to the one other person who always seemed to know what to say—or at least how to distract her.
Lando had shown up within ten minutes of her cryptic “What are you doing right now?” text, a bag of chips in one hand and a pack of her favorite chocolate in the other.
“Alright,” he’d said, flopping onto the couch beside her. “What’s up? Max is out of commission?”
She hadn’t meant to tell him. She’d thought maybe they’d just watch a movie or play a game so she’d feel distracted. But the words had spilled out before she could stop them.
“It sucked Lan,” she admitted, her voice cracking between a laugh and a cry. “I thought it would be… I don’t know. Better.”
Lando blinked, clearly trying to process what she’d just said. “Wait, are you saying—”
“Yes,” she interrupted, burying her face in her hands. “And don’t make it weird, okay?”
“I’m not making it weird,” he protested, though his tone was slightly higher than usual. “I just… wasn’t expecting that.”
She peeked at him through her fingers, his expression a mix of surprise and something she couldn’t quite place. “What, you didn’t think I’d ever have sex?”
“No, I mean—yeah, obviously, you would. I just didn’t think…” He trailed off, ruffling his hair awkwardly. “Never mind. What happened?”
And so she told him. About the awkward pauses, the fumbling, the little to no attention for her, and the overwhelming sense that something was missing.
“It’s not supposed to feel like that, right?” she asked, her voice small.
Lando had been quiet for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t think there’s a ‘supposed to.’ It’s different for everyone, but… yeah, it probably shouldn’t feel like that. You want me to go beat him up? I’m not that big, but I’m scrappy.”
She huffed a laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Great. Glad to know I’m just unlucky, then.”
“Hey,” he said, nudging her with his shoulder. “It’s definitely not you. Sometimes it’s just… the wrong person. Or the wrong timing. Or both.”
“Thanks, Dr. Norris,” she teased, but her smile was genuine.
They’d spent the rest of the night watching the movie and talking about everything and nothing. By the time he got up to leave, the heaviness in her chest had lifted, replaced by a warm sense of gratitude.
As he slipped on his jacket, he turned to her, a familiar smirk tugging at his lips. “Can’t believe the first time your first time isn’t with me, it doesn’t work out. Mistakes, Fewtrell.”
She rolled her eyes, groaning. “Oh my god, Lando.”
“No, seriously,” he continued, winking as he opened the door. “We could have had an actual good first time, you know. Just saying, everything’s better with me.”
“Get out,” she said, throwing a pillow at him as he laughed and ducked out of the room.
But even as the door clicked shut behind him, she found herself smiling, shaking her head at his ridiculousness. Only Lando could turn a moment like that into something lighthearted without dismissing how she felt. 
WN: Hi guys!! Thanks so much for reading!! Hope you like it! Let me know what you think, not my favorite chapter.... but bear with me please!! I'm open for all suggestions and feedback! Posting part 3 tomorrow!
tl: @ash88-yep @lewishamiltonismybf @harrysdimple05
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seumyo · 14 hours ago
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the price to pay when you’re a passenger princess.
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You knew that there had to be a catch when Bakugou said he’d pick you up after your 12-hour shift at the hospital. But the thing was, you were too exhausted to dwell on the thought.
Or so you thought.
“You look dead on your feet,” he commented as he opened the door for you.
“Thanks for the compliment,” you replied dryly, tossing your bag into the backseat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”
The sleek, jet-black Porsche 911 Turbo S roared through the empty streets like a predator on the hunt, the low rumble of the engine vibrating through your very soul. Bakugou, of course, looked completely at ease, one hand resting casually on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift, a calm expression seen on his face.
You’ve come to understand that your husband was relatively calm when not provoked.
“Katsuki,” you started as the car picked up speed, “you do realize this is still a hospital zone, right? Maybe don’t speed like you’re in a Fast and Furious movie.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You literally just did.”
“Relax,” he drawled, shifting gears with precision. “You know I’ve got this.”
You, on the other hand, were internally reciting every safety procedure you could think of in case of an unfortunate circumstance to come.
“Should I call my assistant to make an appointment in advance?”
Bakugou snorts. “What? Don’t trust me?”
“Oh, I trust you. It’s the laws of physics I don’t trust,” you muttered under your breath, earning a low chuckle from him.
The worst part? There was barely any traffic this late at night, which only encouraged Bakugou to push the limits of what his new Porsche could do. You glanced at the speedometer and instantly regretted it.
“Katsuki, I swear to God—”
“What? It’s not like I’m breaking the speed limit,” he said with mock innocence, though the mischievous glint in his eyes told you he knew exactly what he was doing.
The Prefectural Government’s Public Safety Commissions should really revoke his license one of these days. Or you might not live to see the next one.
“By less than two!”
You leaned your head back against the seat, staring at the darkened city skyline as it blurred past you. You were exhausted from your shift, your feet aching, bone tired, but all of that was being drowned out by the overwhelming sensation of your life flashing before your very eyes.
You double-checked your seatbelt again. It’s never too late to actually be safe.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he said without taking his eyes off the road.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re about to yell at me for being too hot and good at everything.”
“Wow? The audacity of my husband making such a bold claim,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. “Have I fed your ego too much that you’re about to float away like a hot-air balloon?”
“Didn’t deny my claim.” He got you there.
You couldn’t argue with that.
“Just so you know,” you muttered, clutching the grab handle even tighter as he effortlessly weaved between two cars, “if I die tonight, I’m haunting you. And I’ll make sure to mess with you when you’re trying to sleep.”
“Good,” he said with a grin, finally glancing your way. “At least then you’d be with me all the time, huh?”
You stared at him, momentarily speechless. “Are you seriously flirting with me right now? While you’re driving like a maniac?”
“Who says I can’t multitask?”
Before you could fire back with another retort, the car slowed as you neared your apartment complex. Your death grip on the handle loosened ever so slightly, though your heart was still racing.
When Bakugou finally parked, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You unbuckled your seatbelt, your hands still trembling a little.
“I hate you.”
“Love you too or whatever.”
“I—wait, you actually said it.”
“What? Can’t a man just say he loves his wife?”
“Good point, but you rarely say it!”
“I pick you up after your every shift and make sure you don’t die of starvation or poor health. That’s enough than saying it, no?”
“But you said it! So it’s different.”
“Not.”
“It is!”
“Not.”
“Is!”
Terrifying car rides aside, there was no one else you’d rather be stuck with. Even if your husband drove you absolutely crazy—both on and off the road. This must be the price of being Bakugou Katsuki’s passenger princess.
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beomiracles · 1 day ago
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𝓑𝐋𝓞𝓞𝐃𝓑𝓞𝓤𝐍𝐃
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𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Oh, you. So pretty, young and alive. Blood flows within your veins, carrying all the way to your beating heart, the one he can hear from miles away. Your breath hitches when his sharp fangs brush against your neck, your eyes flutter before they widen in fear. — God it drove him insane. ⸝⸝
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 2.5k ་༘࿐
𝓹airing vampire!taehyun x human!reader (f) 𝔀arnings kidnapping, imprisonment, blood drinking, heavy dub-con, reader suffers from depression, mentions of suicide, unprotected sex + creampie, no prep, death threats, reader is terrified for the half of it & taehyun is a cold heartless mf, he nearly kills reader, taehyun develops something that borders on lima syndrome toward the end.
#serene adds ✎.. light snack while I work on my larger projects :3 I'm seriously hoping to finish ttocbg soon, I just need to pull the motivation out of my ass and get to it >-<
THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT, READ WARNINGS CAREFULLY.
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It was supposed to be a one time thing. 
Yet Taehyun finds himself unable to let you go. He tells himself that it was only out of convenience. To keep a human at home, within the high walls of his estate, it was comfortable. It meant he didn’t have to leave and hunt as often. No, he could satiate himself for a moment, thanks to you. 
Oh, you. So pretty, young and alive. Blood flows within your veins, carrying all the way to your beating heart, the one he can hear from miles away. Your breath hitches when his sharp fangs brush against your neck, your eyes flutter before they widen in fear. — God it drove him insane. 
The first time Taehyun had laid his crimson eyes upon you, he knew that one taste wouldn’t be enough. He would need you for as long as he could. Nothing could quite still his desires like you, and nothing could fuel them the same. — So he kept you. He even tended to your human needs. Taehyun thinks they make you worthless. Unable to suffice a whole day without sleep, needing three meals a day. Not to mention the sunlight you so begged of him to see. 
Humans were high maintenance, he quickly learned that. Still, he was willing to accept those terms, if it meant another taste of you. But Taehyun wasn’t stupid, he knew that he couldn’t just take and take, then there would be nothing left of you. — He would wait. Feed. Then wait again. The wait was damn near agonizing. Your scent was everywhere, clinging to the walls of his home and sinking into the cracks of his floors. 
Sometimes he would leave for days, when the urge to tear you apart completely became too strong. You never questioned his absence, in fact, Taehyun sometimes wondered if you perhaps even enjoyed it. Though he didn’t care for your feelings toward him. They were unimportant. 
You were intimate every now and again. It was unexplainable really. Sometimes he felt like it, others he didn’t. You were the same. You usually cried, glistening tears coating your soft and pretty face, your broken sobs ringing out into the quiet bedroom air. Other times you remained silent, save for the occasional gasp to slip between your lips. — You always thanked him afterward.
Thanked him for sparing your life. 
Your gratitude confused him. Taehyun couldn’t quite understand what about your situation was so appealing. It wasn’t like he was going to kill you. He wanted no, needed you alive. Did you not understand that? Still you begged and pleaded for your life during your first three months there, for days on end you fell to your knees in prayer before him. 
It had been well over a year now, and that had stopped. — But that wasn’t all. Something was different, you were different. Fear had abandoned you completely, and now lingered nothing but an empty shell of the human he’d taken all those months ago. You hardly leave your room, not that you did before, but now you’re even refusing meals. 
Depression, that’s what he thinks it’s called. A state which humans can undergo when they’re not right in the head, or something like that. Taehyun didn’t bother to read up on the matter any further. All he knows is that you’re unhappy. Your skin is slowly turning a greyish hue and your eyes, once filled with terror, now look lifeless. You looked like him. 
It makes your blood taste bitter. And Taehyun hates it. 
He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what will make you happy again. Letting you go was not an option. He wouldn’t trade his source of fulfillment for a mere human’s sake. But he needed to do something about it. — He tries letting you outside more. He walks through his large gardens, eyes trailing your tired figure as you brush past the many blooming flowers. You no longer appeared skittish around him, merely accepting of his ever looming presence. 
When the extra sunlight proves futile he tries new foods, bringing you a greater variety to choose from. But you merely shrug and grab the first thing you see, shoving it in your mouth as you struggle to swallow. It was as if your whole body rejected life itself. — Taehyun grew all the more restless. He even refrained from feeding off of you, allowing you to save your precious blood for a full two months, thinking that it would make a difference. 
You did not get better, and he got worse. 
He’s had enough. There must be something, something he can do to force any other emotion out of you. He doesn’t even dare leave his home for more than a few hours, afraid that you will find a way to end your pathetic human life in his absence. He couldn’t have that. 
So one night, he finds himself stalking up the stairs with the determined and fast strides. His fingers clenched into fists by his sides, his red eyes locked on the door by the far end of the hall. When he reaches it he stops, taking a slow and deliberate breath. It wasn’t like he even needed the air, but the sensation was calming. He exhales. Then he quietly slips inside your room. 
It’s dark, the only source of light is the moon, resting high above the clouds as its glow caresses your bare skin. You slept a lot more these days, and tonight was no different. But Taehyun had held back for long enough, he’d tried to accommodate your every need, he’d been walking on eggshells for over two months and deprived himself of the only thing that kept him on this earth, your blood. 
His cold breath ghosts over your cheek, his fingers light as they trace your arms. He turns you slowly, making you lay flat on your back as he immediately leans down to nose along the juncture of your neck. He’d caught the slow and steady sounds of your heartbeat before he even decided to go upstairs, and now that he was this close, the sound was near pounding in his ears. Blood rushes beneath your warm skin, and Taehyun licks his sharp fangs slowly as he eyes your perfectly healed skin. God it had been ages. 
You stir only when his lips press against your neck. The soft whine rolling off your tongue makes his ears perk and Taehyun can’t contain his smirk as his fangs graze along your supple flesh. Confused and still laced with sleep, you squirm beneath him as you attempt to get away, but Taehyun's grip on your arms is firm as he locks you in place. 
Quickly you realize what was going on, and your body goes limp in his grasp, as if someone had turned on autopilot. For some reason, it makes him waver. A grimace of disgust flickers across his face. This isn’t how he wants it. It’s no fun when you act like this. — His hands are rough as he yanks you off the mattress, bringing you to his face by the collar of your shirt. 
“Do you want to die, is that it?” He snarls, his nose pressed against yours when he speaks. To his surprise, he finds you staring back at him with wide and shocked eyes. He can hear the way your heart rate picks up, and he can feel the rush of blood as adrenaline courses through you. — “I’ll fucking kill you then, how about that?” His sharp fangs glint under the moonlight and Taehyun watches as your expression morphs from confusion to fear. 
Oh how he’d missed that look on you. 
Fervently you shake your head, spluttering out a shaky “N-No..!” Taehyun huffs, shoving you back against the mattress with a harsh push. His tongue is hot against your skin when he drags it across your jaw, and it pleases him when your breath hitches in your throat, just like it did before. He takes one final moment to inhale your scent, to allow himself to get intoxicated by it. 
“I’m going to make it quick for you”, he murmurs as he presses a kiss to the juncture of your neck, sharp teeth poking at your flesh. “A quick and painless death.” It’s the last thing he says before he sinks his fangs into you, relishing in the loud cry you emit as you shake your head. — Fuck, he’d forgotten just how wonderful you tasted, how delirious your blood made him feel. 
Your nails claw at every part of him you can access, the terror evident in the way you try to pry him off. Taehyun doesn’t pay you any mind, all he can think of is how he needs more, more, more, more. He swallows mouthful after mouthful of your blood. And as the warm liquid slips down his throat, he can feel your resistance gradually fade as he quickly drains you of life. 
You’re reduced to a spluttering mess, tears staining your face and your bottom lip trembling as your eyes remain dazed and filled with horror. When you’re on the brink of going unconscious, just barely holding onto yourself, that’s when he pulls back. — Taehyun wasn’t going to kill you. Fuck, you taste far too good for that. But you didn’t have to know that. 
The lower half of his face is coated in a thick layer of your blood and he licks his lips slowly as he watches your bleary eyes search for him. All he meant to do was scare you, and god had it worked. Finally, your face was painted with emotion, you were finally alive again. Oh how he couldn’t be happier. 
“W-Why..?” You choke the word out, your breaths coming out jagged as you blink. He’s not hearing you, his gaze is trained on the way your lips move when you speak, and he’s completely entranced by them. — He leans in to kiss you, something he’d never done before. He would always be too focused on the way you tasted, on the way your tight and warm cunt wrapped around his cock to even think about the act of kissing. 
Tonight was different. He needs to taste your fear, in every way he can. 
He feels you cringe as his bloody tongue slips inside your mouth, he doesn’t care. Hands groping at your waist, he shoves your squirming body back against the mattress. His fingers hook around your sleep-shorts, tugging them down your thighs along with your panties. He’d gotten you an entire closet of assortments to choose from, yet you always picked the most mundane ones. It didn’t matter. 
You yelp against his lips when he suddenly aligns his hard cock with your unprepared cunt. Taehyun breaks the kiss for a brief moment, leaning back to admire your terrified expression. Blood had smeared all over your own face, your blood, he twitches at the sight. — You still think he’s going to kill you. It’s wonderful. He can’t help the sinister smirk that pulls across his lips before he reconnects them with yours. 
He slides inside of you with surprisingly little restraint, his large hand on your hip as he holds you down. The choked sob you emit vibrates on his tongue and Taehyun groans as he feels you clench around him. It was better than ever before. — His gaze drifts to the punctures on your neck, fresh blood spilled from their cuts and he felt himself grow dizzy. 
Taehyun rips himself from the kiss, leaving you gasping for air as you cling onto his shoulders. He’s quick to lap at the crimson liquid, moaning at the taste before he re-opens your barely healed wounds. You whimper when his fangs sink into you a second time that night, it was something he’d never done before. Even Taehyun knows that he should stop by now, that if he takes as much as another drop you might not make it until the following morning. 
But you just taste so good. 
His eyes flutter, hands gripping at your waist with a force that could easily break bones. His hips have set a slow and deliberate pace as he takes his time fucking your tight cunt, making sure that every stroke left your thighs spasming. 
Small, almost inaudible sobs pass your lips and Taehyun withdraws from your neck with a grunt. Fuck he was beginning to grow really tired of you crying. — His rough palm feels gigantic against your soft and wet cheek. The surprisingly intimate movement makes your breath hitch and causes your sob to catch in your throat. 
“I’m not going to kill you”, he huffs. Your already terrified eyes widen tenfold, and Taehyun resist the urge to just finish you off right there, you looked fucking delectable. But he holds off, his free hand moving from your hip and between your legs. 
Taehyun rarely touched you, if ever. He would have you prepare yourself while he fed, it was a lot more convenient that way. Tonight he felt like doing it himself, for reasons he could not explain. — His thumb brushes against your clit, and his eyebrows raise when he feels your cunt clench around him deliciously. A soft moan falls from your lips, the sound is a surprisingly nice change. Taehyun needs to hear it again. 
He touches you with a newfound eagerness, his mouth finding yours as they blend together in a mix of blood and saliva. You tremble beneath him, your hands grabbing at his shoulders, clinging onto him like there was no tomorrow. — You cum around his cock a mere minute later, Taehyun can’t remember if he’d ever brought you to an orgasm before, he doesn’t think so. The way you squeeze around him is far from familiar, yet it makes his head spin. 
His hips snap against yours as he picks up his pace, his brows furrowing when he feels his throbbing cock twitch inside your warm cunt. All of you were so blissfully alive at this moment. Hell, even Taehyun felt alive like this, so closely connected to you, in a way he long ago swore he would never be with a mere human being. 
You moan when he finishes inside of you, you had never done that before. Taehyun finds that he enjoys it. The taste of you linger on his tongue, and the scent of your arousal infiltrates his nostrils, it was far more prominent this time. — Dark crimson eyes find your wide ones when he peers down at you. For the first time, you’re watching him almost expectantly. 
“Thank you.” 
There it is again, your everlasting gratitude toward him. He still cannot understand it, but he figures it doesn’t matter as long as you’re willing to live. 
Willing to live for him. 
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pboogerswbb · 2 days ago
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SO IT GOES - chapter 6
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Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content and language, being sick? overthinking? p being melodramatic Wordcount: 4.4K A/C: was feeling inspired :)) anyway pls be patient with me posting, i'm applying to schools rn!! anyway this went a direction i hadn't planned but... uhh... i have no excuses i was going with the flow. anyway enjoy x (also what a scare yesterday just hoping p is doing fine and i'm sure everything's okay!)
-
Before London
You need a ride to work tmr?
I don’t but thank you x
My eyes roam the texts as they had repeatedly since last night, trying to decipher each letter as if some ancient code I couldn’t understand. Is she seriously gonna be like that? Like she wasn’t the one who pulled me in. She kissed me. Why was she taking it out on me now? I don’t got time for this anyway, to be stressing about something like this. 
I hadn’t seen Izara since Saturday, not at work, not in the apartment building, hell, I’d even gone to the gym every morning praying that she might show up but it was as if the girl had disappeared from the face of the earth. I knew she was avoiding me, and I guess she had reason but fuck, I thought she’d be better than that. Not a word since Saturday, other than those strange cryptic texts. Fine. Be that way.
“My favourite girls!!” Trey’s voice blatantly interjects my spinning thoughts as me, Arike, Satou and Lou are sat at a circular table, eating lunch. Not that I had been eating per say, more so poking my fork here and there trying to stomach a piece of chicken now and then. The heaviness in the pit of my stomach made it hard to eat at all.
I lift my eyes, hoping Izara would be trailing behind the man as usual. But it’s Ava instead, holding a notepad and taking quick steps to keep up. I mean I knew it wasn’t Iz before even looking up - there was an uncomfortable void of heels tapping against the hardwood as the pair approach us eagerly.
“Oh hey!” Lou smiles from her chair next to me. “What’s up?”
“So we were thinking,” Trey starts, leaning forward against the table. “If y’all could film some clips answering comments on your own since our dear Zari isn’t here.”
“Uh, where is she anyway?” I ask as casually as I can - though the way everyone’s heads snap to me tells me it was a feeble attempt.
Trey’s dark brown eyes study me for a while with an expression I can’t quite read before answering. “She’s home sick, poor girl.”
Bullshit. She’s trying to avoid me, I know it. I can’t believe it, I thought she would be more mature than this, than faking being “sick” just to get away from an awkward conversation with me. Why was she assuming how I felt anyway? Like the kiss mattered to me? Like I’d want more?
I mean all that was true. God did it matter and God did I want, no, need more. Much more. But she didn’t know that, so why was she assuming. I thought we were friends. You know what this is? Bad friendship.
“Oh damn, hope she feels better,” Arike answers for me, noticing the way I’m gone in my thoughts.
“Y-yeah for sure,” I mumble, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’mma go to the weight room.”
I place the fork down on my half eaten plate harshly, getting up abruptly making my irritation quite clear to everyone around me.
“Paige you gotta eat a little more,” Lou encourages but I shake my head.
“Nah, m’ not hungry,” I murmur and take my plate back, preparing to take out my aggravation at some weights, ignoring the way Arike and the rest of the girls eye me as I walk away.
-
“So how are we feeling about the first game soon?” My dad’s voice echoes through the speaker but I barely hear him, pacing my apartment’s living room. Truthfully I hadn’t thought much about the upcoming game. I knew that was bad. That I should be ecstatic, or scared as hell, but I didn’t feel anything else besides the dread of what happened between me and Iz. 
Matter of fact, I hadn’t been able to think of anything else but the way she looked all night, the way her green smoked out eyes twinkled at me, the way she threw her head back when she laughed at my jokes, when she pressed her front against me. The way her full breasts felt against my chest, the way her round ass felt under my hands. God, the whimper she let out when I squeezed it as gently as I could.
“Paige?”
“Uh what?” I mumble, ears burning, completely forgotten about the call with my dad.
“What’s going on with you?” His secure, steady voice asks, grounding me.
“Nothin’ dad,” I murmur, rubbing my eyes and looking out the window into the street, eyeing every dark haired woman just in case they were Izara.
“Paige Madison.”
I groan. I might be 23-years-old but my dad’s stern voice turns me into a teenager without fail each time.
“You’re comin’ to the first game still, right?”
“Yes, of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Why?”
“Nothin’, just miss you,” I mumble, coming up with an excuse for my low mood - though it wasn’t far off. Everytime I felt sad or anxious I just wanted my dad.
“I miss you too, kid. You know you just say the word and I’m there, okay?”
“No I know, I know. I’m just tired I think,” I sigh, my chest warming at my dad’s comforting words.
“Uh oh,” he starts. “Paige Madison… Don’t tell me.”
“Huh? Tell you what?”
“Is this about a girl?” He asks.
I pause, coming to a halt with my pacing. “Hu- I- What?!”
“You always say “I’m just tired” when you got a girl on your mind,” my dad laughs, doing a horrible impression of me.
“No!” I argue a little too fast and a little too passionately. “I mean, no. Just tired. Long practice.”
“Mhm alright,” my dad mumbles, an amused tone in his voice that irritates me in a way only a parent could. “So no girl?”
“No dadddd,” I whine like a teenage girl. “There’s no girl.”
I didn’t like lying to him. I wanted to tell him all about Izara. I knew my dad would adore that girl. He always said I needed a woman to keep me in check - Izzie did just that. But I also didn’t want to tell my dad about this girl knowing it likely wasn’t going to go anywhere, especially now that she had been hiding from me since our kiss.
“Okay dad tell Drew I said hi and I’ll play Fortnite with him tomorrow,” I say into the phone, ready to hang up.
“Okay kid, love you.”
“Love you dad.”
The silence is deafening, again. Like it used to be before I became friends with Iz. I felt alone, anxious, my head spinning with thoughts I couldn’t turn off. I thought she was mature enough to handle this like two adults. If she just wanted to be friends then she could just tell me, at least we could continue our friendship like that.
But usually when I kissed a girl, they didn’t run away like this. Quite the opposite. Did she not like the way I kissed? Was I off my game? Maybe the tongue was too much? Maybe she didn’t like my outfit. I’m a good kisser, I know I am. Good enough to get girls into bed with ease. So what is the trouble now? And I also know that that was the best kiss I had ever had. That our lips fit together just right. Fuck this girl had me going out of my mind. And now I just had to wait for her to reach out, it didn’t feel fair.
No. It wasn’t fair. Why did I have to wait for her? Who said I had to? Fuck that.
Too frenzied to even throw a shirt over my sports bra, I walk downstairs determined, knocking on Izara’s door angrily, preparing a speech of everything I’d been thinking the past few days: Look, Izzie, we’re both adults. You clearly think the kiss was a mistake. But avoiding me and acting like this is ridiculous and stupid and we don’t need to be acting like teenage-
“Paige?” 
Izzie opens the door, voice weak and nasally. She’s in a pale pink pyjama set, hair up in a clip and nose red and irritated. She wasn’t lying. Definitely not. She is sick. 
Quick, improvise.
“Uh, hey,” I mumble, my cheeks turning pink, her red eyes staring up at me reminiscent of Saturday night and the moments before our kiss on the balcony. “Trey told me you were sick.”
She chuckles, looking down at her dishevelled appearance and returns her gaze to me. “How did you know,” she jokes. She’s acting like nothing happened between us. How could she act like that? I guess it’s better than if she actually had been avoiding me.
“Was worried, haven’t seen you since… The party,” I say unsurely.
“Uh… Yeah. Crazy party huh,” Izzie says almost to herself. “Well, anyway, thanks for checking in but I’m perfectly okay. Just a cold and I think it’s passing.”
She begins to close the door but I grab it, holding it open.
“You been resting?” I ask concerned.
The girl shrugs. “Well at first but now I’m just getting bored so I’ve been doing some work from home.”
“Izzie…”
“What?”
“You gotta be restin’ if you’re sick,” I argue, which makes the girl roll her eyes.
“I’m fine Paige,” she answers, but I step inside.
“Let me in.”
“No, you’ll get sick,” she complains but I shake my head.
“I won’t. I’m built different.”
Izzie laughs, deciding it was pointless to try to argue and lets me in.
Her apartment is spotless as always, laptop open on her dining table with schedules and notebooks piled next to it. This bitch hadn’t been resting, no she’s been working and cleaning.
“Izzie!” I groan and close the laptop.
“Shoes! Shoes shoes shoes!” She yelps, voice breaking as she does. 
“‘M sorry!” I gasp and take my sneakers off quickly, placing them neatly by the entrance. I feel her eyes fixed on me. 
“Do you ever wear a shirt?” She asks, blowing her stuffy nose, which makes me let out a single laugh.
“Why, you want me to?” I ask confidently, easily falling into the same effortlessness as before.
My words make the girl blush. Perhaps the kiss wasn’t that bad? Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I should just ask… Ask what?! If the kiss was good?! Bro… Get a grip.
“Well you’re going to get cold, it’s freezing here,” she tells me, turning away and walking to the couch where pillows are neatly arranged, an expensive looking blanket neatly folded on the armrest. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it definitely was not cold, that her apartment was scorching hot already making me sweat.
“Yo, you’re kidding right?” I laugh as I watch her somewhat pitifully curling up against the corner of the couch on her single throw pillow.
“What?”
“Iz, you’re sick!”
“Wow, thanks for rubbing it in my face,” she says nasally, blowing her nose again.
“Bro, that pillow is just sad! You need a nest,” I gasp, walking to her bedroom.
“Wait wait wait, it’s a mess in there,” she yelps, following after me. Mess, it is not. There is one hoodie on the bed, which is unmade. That’s it. I pull the heavy blanket off her bed, grabbing all four pillows and walking decisively to the couch with the dark-haired girl on my tail.
“What are you doing?” She asks as I begin to set up each pillow into a nest against the corner of the couch. She’s grabbing my arm and peeking at my actions from behind my back, clearly confused.
“I’m makin’ you a nest,” I explain, brows furrowing as I focus. This is serious business. “My stepmom does this when we’re sick.”
“A nest?” Izzie laughs.
“Yeah, get in,” I order, grabbing the girl’s shoulders and sitting her down. “Now lie back. Get comfy.”
Hesitating for a moment, Izzie curls up against the pillows as I place the blanket over her, watching as she gets comfortable with a smile on her face.
“There you go,” I coo, trying her forehead which is burning hot. “You have a fever Iz, I’m gonna get you some meds.”
“Paige, you don’t have to do this,” she sighs, looking up at me softly. I want to lean down and kiss her again. Instead, I bring my hand to her warm cheek, stroking it softly. She looks vulnerable, gentle for once. It made me want her even more.
“Lemme take care of you ma.”
She doesn’t comment on the nickname, matter of fact there’s a hint of a smile on her face when she nods. 
“The cabinet above the microwave.”
“Got it,” I tell her, pretty much scurrying to the kitchen, gathering everything you could think - water, painkillers, nose spray, I even cut up some fruit for her. But when I return the poor girl is in her nest, cuddled up, fast asleep. It hurts my heart to wake her up, but she needs these meds in her.
“Iz,” I murmur carefully, brushing dark locks away from her face. She blinks herself awake, rubbing her face. Everything about it makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let anyone close in case they hurt her. 
“Fuck, I fell asleep,” she yawns. “I’m sorry I’m a mess.”
“You’re sick ma,” I remind her, sitting next to the girl on the couch and watching as she takes her medicine.
“This is so embarrassing,” she murmurs, sipping on the glass of water. Her cheeks are bright red, hair undone and eyes tired - I swear it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her look.
“Izara,” I say sternly. “You’re sick, lemme help.”
“You’re gonna get sick too, and you have your first game soon love.”
“I’ll be fine, I got mad immune system powers.”
She giggles. “Immune system powers?”
“You heard,” I nod, fighting a grin. She coughs a little.
“Paige?”
Oh God. She’s gonna bring up the kiss now. I know it. I can feel it.
“Y-yeah?”
She takes a deep breath. “Can we watch Lady and The Tramp?”
-
“How are you already crying?” Paige asks with a giggle, leaning against the opposite corner of the couch. 
“Lady as a puppy always makes me cry! How could it not?” I sniffle, wiping my nose, watching the scene where Lady doesn’t want to sleep in her dog bed, the poor puppy crying for her dad. 
The blonde is chewing on an apple in her sports bra and black Nike sweats, muscles grown more prominent over her training period with the Wings, arms bigger, shoulders wider, outline of the muscles on her abdomen faintly visible even as she slouches. 
“What kinda names are Darling and Jimmy Dear anyway?” She asks, dramatically frustrated.
“Paige, you’re slow,” I laugh. “Lady thinks those are their names because they call each other those as like, pet names darling.”
The blond thinks for a while, and then grins. “Oh.”
We both burst into a choir of laughter, though it feels rough against my scratchy throat. Still, I could feel the medication already making me feel better. Or maybe it was the company.
My mind had been a mess after I escaped the party. I felt embarrassed, childish even for running away like I did, leaving Paige high and dry. Once I woke up the next morning it was hard to figure out what truly happened and what was my mind playing tricks on me. But I knew the kiss really took place the moment I remembered it, the weight of Paige’s kiss a mere memory on my lips. One wouldn’t forget a kiss like that. It was impossible.
Getting sick had been a lucky coincidence, giving me time to think and take some distance from the situation. I found it impossible to figure out where my desire for Paige and desire for physical contact differed. I couldn’t tell if I was just lonely. Or if I really liked her. I never considered it, me having feelings (if you could call it that) for a girl again. But now as she sat there, looking like that, I wanted nothing but to get on her. To climb onto her lap and kiss her again like we had on the balcony. Without the drunken hue, just us feeling each other.
Even as sick as I am, the familiar burn and ache that always showed up around the blonde begins to grow between my legs, making me squirm. Fuck, maybe I did like her. All I knew I definitely wasn’t in a place to start anything - that no matter what this was it would have to stay casual. I haven’t gotten rid of the ghost of my past relationship. No, not at all. I could see it looming around every corner, peeking through windows, just right outside my line of vision. I wasn’t ready.
Paige’s hand comes over to my bare feet poking out of the blanket, bringing them to her lap and beginning to rub them almost as if subconsciously, like unaware of the entire thing. Except her cheeks turn red as she does. My entire body relaxes, and I let her. For almost half of the movie she massages each toe, the arch of my foot, my ankle, leaving goosebumps everywhere. 
“I’m cold,” I complain, pulling my feet back under the blanket, feeling like a block of ice.
“I’m so hot,” Paige groans, now more invested in the movie, making small comments here and there.
“Lucky,” I groan which makes her snicker.
“Scooch,” The blonde tells me. Before I can resist she’s made her way under the blanket, into the nest, lying behind me and wrapping an arm around my waist. I fit in her arms perfectly, like I was made to be her counterpart, born to be in her arms like this, every curve of her body slotting with mine just right. My ass pressing into her, the blonde’s chin brushing against my shoulder, hot breath tickling against my ear nearly making me moan. Fuck.
“I- I thought you were hot,” I mumble, beginning to lose my composure.
“But you’re cold,” she murmurs into my ear, nose nuzzling into my hair as we keep watching the movie. Though I can’t concentrate. Even on my favourite movie. My head spinning too fast, speeding up even more when my pyjama top hikes up and Paige’s fingertips rub circles against my lower stomach, dangerously close to dipping into my pyjama pants.
“P-paige,” I almost whisper, my voice coming out breathy.
“Mhm?” The blonde’s voice is shaky too, a hoarse hum straight into my ear making me even wetter than I already am.
“You’re gonna get sick,” I remind her, my chest heaving.
“I’m good,” she breathes out, shifting a little, her head fitting just in the crook of my neck. Perfectly. “Are you?”
She’s asking for consent, I can tell. To dip her fingers underneath the band, to slide them into my panties. And God I want to give it to her. To let her have her way with me. The temptation is growing nearly impossible to resist.
“I-” I nearly say it. But then I shift to my back, to meet her gaze. Paige’s face is flushed, nostrils flaring as she breathes, hand remaining on my bare stomach. “How are you feeling about the game?”
“Oh, uhh,” Paige is taken aback, pulling her hand back to my dismay, bringing it to her jaw and rubbing it. “I mean, I haven’t really thought about it if I’m honest? I’m excited to see my dad and Dorka.”
“She went to Uconn with you, right?”
The blonde nods. “I mean issa big moment for sure, but I just wanna take it one day at a time.”
I hesitate. “Are you not nervous at all?”
She lets out a single laugh and looks around the room. “Nah I am. Just tryna keep my mind off it.”
I nod, understanding. I wish I could carry some of her worry, I could tell she was more nervous than she let on. But instead of talking I slide my hand into hers, which seems to comfort the girl more than words, her blue eyes locking with mine. She’s thinking, mulling something over in her head. I can tell.
“The party… Iz, I-”
“Shh,” I tell her before she can keep going, my throat going dry, the ache between my thighs nearly painful. I wasn’t ready to talk, at all. All I wanted was to feel it again, the weight of her lips on mine. So bad I felt dizzy.
“Nah, Izzie, c’mon. I think we both feel we-”
“Paige?”
“Yeah mama?”
“Kiss me.”
-
It makes no sense. But I don’t hesitate. Leaning down, my lips crashing into hers with such hunger it makes me uncharacteristically whine. My body is on fire, every inch burning up as our lips slide against one another, boxers growing damp quickly. My hand carefully holds her cheek, like the girl next to me might break. But to my surprise she pulls me on top of her by the back of my head.
I’m tasting for every inch of her, slowing down and taking my time, unlike that drunken mess on the balcony. Somehow this is even better, the kiss of the century even. Her body is cool to the touch, a sign of the fever going down. But I barely register, kissing her bottom lip affectionately, my hands holding her face. Izzie responds, her teeth pulling on my lip harshly making me groan. Her warm tongue brushes over it, soothingly.
I open my mouth further, my tongue meeting hers, other hand moving to the bare waist of the girl underneath me. I can’t believe this is real. That I’m kissing Izara. It feels like some type of dream, but the ache between my legs proves that every second is real. That she’s really underneath me. And If I’m feeling my core throbbing just from the kiss, I’m certain the dark haired girl feels something similar and the idea of my girl feeling such pain and not having it taken care of breaks my heart.
So my thumb dips underneath the band of her satin pyjama pants, feeling the lace of her underwear as it does. Zari lets out a shaky whimper, her eyes fluttering open.
“Paige,” she whines, brows furrowing.
“Yeah?” I ask breathlessly, leaning down to kiss under her ear which makes her squirm under my weight.
“C-can you keep your hands,” another moan as I suck on her neck, careful not to leave a mark. Izara didn’t seem like the type of woman you marked. “On top of the clothes.”
God she’s gonna be the death of me. But I oblige happily, pulling my hand back to her bare waist.
“Whatever you want Izzie,” I say between ragged breaths, making the girl moan as I keep kissing her neck. Izara’s hands wrap around my back, long acrylics scratching at the skin there.
“Shit,” I cuss under my breath, feeling like I might die or cum in my pants if I don’t get to have her. Still, I keep kissing her, fully aware what a privilege it was just to be on her like this. I do everything to try to stay composed, to keep my cool, to focus on putting on my best show as I return back to sloppily kissing her lips, shifting on top of her, my other hand beside Izzie’s face to hold me up. 
As I move my hips, my knee presses into her core, against the sheer fabric of the pajamas making her gasp straight into my mouth. I repeat the movement with purpose now, and can feel the heat radiating off her, the fabric between her legs growing damp. She wants this just as bad as I do.
“Lemme keep going, please,” I whimper, brows furrowed and barely conscious of what is happening at this point. “Lemme help ma, won’t even touch you.”
Her face is contorted with need, chest heaving desperately. 
“It hurts don’t it? Lemme help,” I coo, my lips wrapping around her earlobe and sucking softly. “Please.”
“Paige,” she whimpers, her body shaking with need. But I feel her shift, legs wrapping around my body. “Please.”
Oh God, I might actually cum in my sweats.
I kiss her all over, her neck, bare shoulders, mind spinning with need, my cunt growing wetter and wetter with every moan that leaves Izzie’s lips as I push my knee against her core, gently, so as to not hurt her.
“P-paige,” she moans my name. My name. 
“Ohh fuck,” I cuss, squeezing my eyes shut at the way her voice sounds, deep and gravelly, turning more high-pitched each time I grind my knee into her cunt.
“Let me get you right ma, please,” I beg breathlessly, shaking my head to myself trying to keep myself present. “Please, Iz, would do anything to fuck you,”
She’s speechless, whimpering desperately, but I can feel her muscles turning tense from the pleasure I’m giving her, legs shaking gently.
“Would be so good, just lemme eat that pussy,” I moan into her ear. “Gimme five.”
Pulling back, I meet her gaze. Her contorted face, dark brows furrowed and lips parted, green eyes blown out black. This is the most beautiful she has ever looked. Easily. Could look at her like this forever.
I can tell she’s considering, mulling it over in her head. Just as her lips part the ring of her phone interrupts the moment, the obnoxious sound blaring over the movie playing in the back. Of course. I can never have anything good. Just little tastes.
“Fuck,” Izzie mumbles and abruptly sits up as if suddenly thinking clearly. I climb off her, watching as she fumbles to find her phone.
“Here,” I catch it, handing it to her. It’s Kiran, her brother.
“Fuck, I promised I’d help him with his paper,” she groans, still trying to catch her breath.
“Uh, okay,” I murmur, attempting to catch mine, awkwardly shifting further on the couch, watching as the girl gets up and walks into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, leaving me there once again. Wanting more.
-
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nonotnolan · 3 days ago
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Guess Who - College Edition
The week after the holidays was always a stressful time for Tyler. It had a lot going for it, of course— school hadn’t started yet, the parties would soon be picking up in full swing— but the Greek Life Traditions had the potential to be hell for a closeted gay man such as himself. Sigma Epsilon Chi had a tradition that when school wasn't in session, a handful of guys would swap bodies in pairs for the week. Everyone would try to guess who had swapped with who, and though it was only for bragging rights, some guys took it very seriously.
Once he knew that he would only be guessing, he had to admit it was actually kind of fun trying to tell who was themselves and who was pretending to be someone else. The anxiety happened when the participants were still being decided. Some of his fellow frat brothers were legacy members whose bodies were just as average as his own, but just as many of them were attractive, athletic men who rushed for the sake of the social status. The thought of having to spend time in a body far better than his own… sure, it was exciting, but how could he possibly abstain from the temptation for that long?
Well, he was about to find out. Ethan had tapped him out to be one of the swapped, and he was about to find out whose body he would be taking for the week. It wasn’t the first time that Tyler was walking down to the basement where the spell circle was carved into the concrete floor, but somehow it never got any easier. Last time he swapped with Devin, an engineering student whose body wasn’t too much of a change from his own, but he had a feeling that his luck was about to run out.
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“I’m swapping with Tyler? Hell yeah, we’re gonna fool everybody!”
He was swapping with Blaine. Of course he was swapping with Blaine. The man was one of the hottest guys in the fraternity, and the unknowing recipient of Tyler’s biggest crush. He exuded confidence without even trying, and the way that the muscle definition of his arms bulged out of his sleeves never failed to get Tyler excited. Not that Blaine usually wore shirts around the house— it was rare to see him wearing anything that covered his chest unless he was having to go to class. His shoulders were impossibly wide, and his body was a temple of muscle. Worse still, he was so friendly and easygoing that he had no idea how embarrassed Tyler felt whenever he was near him. There was no way he would be able to spend time in that body without wanking himself senseless. “Fuck me, I’m going to have to swap bodies with Blaine.”
Blaine looked at him with a bit of a hurt expression on his face. “What, you don’t want to swap bodies with me? Come on, Tyler, this body is great!”
Shit, had he said that out loud? “No, I didn’t mean… of course it’s great! It’s just that, your body is so good it’s kind of intimidating. It makes me feel like if I eat junk food in your body, I’ll ruin it,” Tyler said, rushing to tell him a white lie. "It's good, it's just... it's a lot."
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Blaine said, patting him on the shoulder. “We’re just two guys swapping bodies. I can go a few days without working out at the gym. And hey, it’s not like I’m new to this whole body swapping thing. If you wanna get laid while you’re in my body-- honestly, I take it as a compliment.” He gave Tyler a playful push on the shoulder. “You know I’m gonna try to do the same, right? You’re a good looking guy! I’m taking you out to the bars to get drunk, and I bet I’ll score while I’m there. It’s still a vacation week, everyone is looking to get laid.”
Tyler just stood there, blinking, as he tried to comprehend what Blaine had just said. Empty compliments aside, had he really granted him permission to do anything he wanted? He barely registered Ethan guiding him over to the spell circle and uttering the incantation. Blaine had just given him permission to get laid inside of his body.
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Tyler rummaged through Blaine’s closet, playing dress-up with his new muscular frame. Most of the man’s wardrobe consisted of sweatpants, gym shorts, and free t-shirts. It wasn’t surprising, but it was disappointing. He was planning to dropbox some photos of Blaine’s body to his own personal account for later usage, and he was hoping for a few sophisticated outfits to contrast Blaine’s gym bro vibes. He was also planning to take Blaine up on his offer to get laid, just… perhaps in a way that he hadn’t intended when he gave Tyler blank permission. He pulled up the Google Play store on Blaine’s phone, and searched for Grindr only to discover it had already been downloaded. His heart started to race faster— he hadn’t seen the app on any of the main screens, did that mean Blaine had hidden it away in a folder somewhere? Surely it was more likely that someone else had downloaded it during a prior swap? Well, there was only one way to find out. He took a deep break and clicked ‘open’.
He couldn’t believe his luck— it was an active profile. Bi_greekguy_Est_02. No profile photo, and a description that just read “discreet, message for pics”. This changed everything. He absolutely had to fuck his own body. But how could he pull Blaine into a private discussion without being suspicious? The two of them never really crossed paths, so anything direct would be incredibly suspicious. He could pretend to ask for help, but it would have to be something Tyler could actually help with. He had fixed Jacob’s computer once, and Blaine didn’t have a reputation for being tech savvy… that could work? It was worth the risk. Tyler walked downstairs to his body’s room, enjoying the heft of his shoulders as he walked. “Is Tyler in there?” he said, casually knocking on the doorframe. “I’ve got an issue with my laptop, and Jacob said you might be able to fix it.”
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Blaine emerged from the room, glaring at him in concern but otherwise playing along. “I… yeah, Blaine I can take a look at it,” he said. “Lead the way, I guess.” He followed Tyler back to his body’s room, and made sure that the door was shut before beginning to yell at him. “What in the hell are you thinking, dude! I never come down to the basement! What in the hell could be so important that you— ohh.” Tyler responded by showing him the Grindr profile he’d found. He crossed his arms, scowling defensively. “I… yeah, okay. So what, I’m bisexual. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that I’m a gay man,” Tyler said. “If I had known I wasn’t the only non-straight guy here, I would have tried my luck ages ago. I know you want to win this weekend, but some things are more fun than trying to fool the rest of the guys. I don’t care if we get identified immediately, as long as we have fun. I thought you were out of my league. I still think you’re out of my league. But now that I’m inside of you? You can bet your ass I’ll be taking advantage of every minute.” He flexed for emphasis, watching the definition on Blaine’s arm.
Blaine laughed. “Well, if we’re being honest… I’ve always thought you looked like a cute bottom, but I didn’t know if you were gonna get offended if I asked. I didn’t want to risk my reputation as the macho gym bro to ask you if you were gay. You want to know why I was excited to swap with you? I was excited to end up in your body so that I could take it out to all the gay bars. I’m gonna get your ass railed so hard that it’ll still be sore after we swap back.”
Tyler couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I… you thought I was cute?”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Blaine said, as he started to blush. “You don’t have to be aggressively masculine to be desirable. We are absolutely becoming fuck buddies once this is over. You can be my tutor if you want to keep it discreet.”
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Tyler pressed down on Blaine’s shoulders, taking advantage of his body’s light stature to lower him to his knees. “Who said anything about waiting until this is over?” Tyler started to slowly untie his sweatpants, letting the unspoken tension build as he adjusted the waistband of his boxers. “Do you really expect me to believe you haven’t fantasized about getting fucked by your own cock?”
Blaine looked at the eight inches of erect cock positioned a few inches in front of his face, and then looked up into the eyes of his body. He couldn’t help but laugh. “We’re not going to make it out to the bars this weekend, are we?”
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blondieeu · 3 days ago
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easy lovers. yuji i.
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yuji itadori who waits for you. he waits because he knows if he doesn't, he'd ruin everything.
yuji itadori waits for you out of respect for your relationship, because he listens when you tell him you seriously want to be with this guy - even if he knows that douche isn't the one, and he is.
yuji itadori admires you from a distance, just far enough that you don't notice how much you take his breath away. though, he's still close enough to relish in your beauty. you shined like the moon and didn't even realize it.
yuji itadori doesn't only see your beauty on the outside. every single day. even in the small moments when he gets a chance to be around you - he can see the beauty in your kindness and the way you act within the world. you were his universe.
sometimes, he wonders if he's making the right call. if he'd been too patient, or too kind with his heart. but every time he thinks about making a move, he just remembers what you said—how bad you wanted it to be that damned guy. he couldn't bare to be the reason you regret picking someone else, let alone him.
At times, he wonders if he should move on, and find a girlfriend of his own. it wouldn't be hard, he wasn't unattractive or anything - but it'd be even worse to make someone who loves him feel like they're the second choice because he knows he'll always end up picking you instead.
yuji itadori tries not to think of it, or even let it show, but sometimes when you look at him and talk about your boyfriend, it feels like someones squeezing all the air from his lungs, forcing him to breathe manually—in. out. in. out. in. in. in. Over and over. Until the weight feels absolutely unbearable. He wonders if the quiet ache in his chest will ever ease. How long will he have to keep pretending?
every now and again, he even pretends that when you're talking about your boyfriend, you're just talking about him. all the places he took you out, the snacks you shared, the love you made - but reality quickly sets in and his heart sinks when you mention his name.
yuji watches you, and wonders why you decided so quickly that it would be your boyfriend and not him. why couldn't it be yuji? what makes your boyfriend so special, or better than him? he listens to the way you talk about him, as if you're trying to convince yourself that you're 'destined to be.' yuji knows, deep down, that this isn't it. you deserve someone who sees you, and understands you the way he does. but he’s not the one to say it, so he waits for you to notice.
yuji itadori who waits for you with absolutely no expectations because he knows that love—true love—and when its real, doesn't need to be rushed. it just exists, like the quiet glow of the moon in the dead of night. soft, steady, and always there—for you, specifically—no matter what.
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blondieeu xx
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bunni-v1 · 2 days ago
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thoughts on asking harumasa, lighter, seth, and wise “breast or thighs” to see their reactions?
Nonnie asking the real questions out here.
Harumasa probably thinks it’s funny, more than anything else. It’s hard actually getting it out of him though, he plays up shock just to make you feel ashamed for having such a dirty mind. Seriously, how could you ask innocent sweet lil’ ol’ him such a depressed question? When he does answer though, it’s like there was no thought put into it, like it was obvious. “Thighs, duh, they’re much more comfortable for napping on.”
Lighter raises a brow at you, a little taken aback by the questioning. It’s technically not that weird of a question for friends (or partners) to ask, more playful than anything, but he still wasn’t expecting it. He takes it seriously though, taking a few seconds to contemplate his answer before he comes to his solution. “Boobs,” He says without room for argument, “They’re the best for holding no matter what size.”
Seth is the only one who gets really flustered. It’s not like he doesn’t have a preference, it’s just that he’s not really one to let it be known. It’s a bit weird, right, talking about stuff like that? Isn’t it private? If you insist for an answer though he’ll sigh, and shamefully admit, “Thighs. They’re soft and squishy and everyone’s looks so nice regardless of if they’re skinny or muscly or chubby. You can’t go wrong with the universal pillow.”
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iamgonnagetyouback · 1 day ago
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kisses on cheeks and protective remus
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dad!remus lupin x mom!reader where your daughter kisses a boy (on the cheek) and remus is not a fan of it to say the least
↬ word count : 738 words ˎˊ˗
↬ warnings : excessive panicked dad energy, reader laughing way too much at her husband’s expense ♡
↬ au part? : coming soon·········
↬ author's note : this is your official reminder to laugh at funny boys, not kiss them. unless it’s remus.
ps. the pictures above in no way depict the characters mentioned in this fic—they’re just here for ✨vibes✨. please use your imagination to bring them to life! love you all <3
pps. i originally scheduled this post for 5 jan, but somehow ended up setting it for 5 feb instead. hehe oops. 🙈
navigation┆remus lupin masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚
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The sound of the front door creaking open was followed by the unmistakable pitter-patter of little feet. You smiled to yourself, folding the last of the laundry on the couch. Moments later, your five-year-old daughter, Ella, burst into the living room, her curls bouncing as she carried her backpack like it weighed a hundred pounds.
“Mommy! Daddy!” she chirped, her face lighting up with excitement. She flung her backpack near the door (though not quite in its proper spot, as usual).
Remus stepped into the room, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “There’s my little dove,” he said warmly, crouching down to scoop her up. “How was school today, sweetheart?”
Ella giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It was soooo fun! We did painting, and I made a butterfly! Oh, and guess what?”
Remus kissed her cheek, smiling. “What, little dove?”
“I kissed a boy today! On the cheek!” Ella declared proudly, her eyes sparkling.
You had to bite back your laughter as you watched Remus freeze mid-crouch. His face twisted into pure disbelief, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“You—you what?” he sputtered, standing up straight so fast he nearly lost his balance. Ella clung to him, giggling, while he turned to you, wide-eyed. “Dove, did you hear that?! She kissed a boy!”
“I heard,” you said, laughing softly. “She’s starting young.”
Remus didn’t seem to share your amusement. He looked back at Ella, his voice full of panic. “Why? Why did you kiss a boy?”
Ella tilted her head, her expression puzzled. “Because I like him, Daddy. He’s funny.”
“Funny?” Remus repeated, his tone incredulous. He ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath, “Funny. Funny.” Then, looking back at her with mock seriousness, he said, “Ella, honey, if he’s funny, you laugh! You don’t kiss him!”
Ella blinked at him, clearly not understanding why this was such a big deal. “But you kiss Mommy, and she’s funny.”
You couldn’t hold back your laugh as Remus whipped around to look at you, his face betraying a mix of indignation and panic. “Dove! Don’t laugh; this is serious!”
“Is it?” you teased, walking over to him. “She’s got a point, you know.”
“She does not have a point,” he countered, before turning back to Ella. “Sweetheart, who’s this boy?”
“Tommy,” Ella said with a dreamy little sigh. “He’s my bestest friend. He made me laugh so hard today that juice came out of my nose!”
Remus groaned, pressing a hand to his face. “Tommy,” he muttered, as if the name itself was offensive. “What kind of name is Tommy anyway? Sounds like the name of someone who runs into walls.”
Ella gasped, her tiny hands on her hips. “Daddy! He’s nice!”
“I’m sure he’s nice,” Remus replied, crouching again to look her in the eye. “But darling, you’re too young to be kissing boys. No more kissing boys, okay?”
“But why?” Ella whined, pouting. “You kiss Mommy, and I don’t see what’s wrong.”
“Because I married Mommy!” he said, exasperated. “And because Mommy is—well, she’s—” He paused, looking at you helplessly. “Dove, help me out here.”
“Because I’m Mommy,” you supplied, grinning. “That’s the best reason there is.”
Ella tilted her head thoughtfully, then asked, “So if I marry Tommy, can I kiss him?”
“Absolutely not!” Remus said, his voice cracking. “You’re not marrying anyone for the next fifty years.”
At that, you couldn’t help but laugh, pulling both your husband and daughter into a hug. “Remus, she’s five. It was just a kiss on the cheek.”
“That’s how it starts!” he argued, his arms instinctively wrapping around you and Ella protectively. “First it’s a kiss on the cheek, and then suddenly they’re eloping to Paris. Not on my watch.”
Ella giggled and kissed his cheek. “You’re silly, Daddy.”
Remus sighed dramatically but kissed her back. “Only for you, little dove. But promise me—no more kissing boys without asking me first, alright?”
“Okay,” Ella said sweetly, though the mischievous glint in her eye made you suspect this wouldn’t be the last you’d hear of Tommy.
“Come on,” you said, ruffling her curls. “Let’s get you a snack.”
As you led Ella toward the kitchen, you glanced back at Remus, who was still crouched on the floor, muttering to himself, “Tommy. Tommy. Sounds like the name of a kid who eats dirt. He should eat dirt. Defiling my little dove.”
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