#thanks man (may eat my words later)

[sammygender]

me when my dad is actually like weirdly supportive abt the trans thing (to an extent) and weirdly open to learning abt it and all it takes is… me directly communicating it! who the hell would have thunk

[starry-bi-sky]

#battinson with chronically ill half dead teenager yesssssssss#I'm imagining that first night he brings danny to the cave and hes just internally panicking#like what do i do with this kid. where do i put him. i cant just leave him in the cave. im DEFINITELY not leaving him alone

FRRRR. Like @/that1badassbitch mentioned in the comments, Bruce's thoughts that entire time was just varying pitches of internal screaming. Which I am still wheezing at because yeah, preach. Bruce's pov from the moment Danny accosts him in the alley to him bringing Danny into the cave ranges from awkward panicking, genuine desperation to get this kid some help, a lot of heartbreak on the boy's behalf, and also just pure anger at his godfather.

Cuz like, who the fuck does this?? How dare he. This boy is a child. If it weren't for Danny's genuine terrified pleading, Bruce would've probably had a confrontation with Vlad. He would've lost, considering Vlad's power set and Bruce's lack of and Vlad would have gotten away with Danny. But he would've tried it. (Could've resulted in a spin-off au where Bruce, after losing to Vlad, proceeds to hunt the bastard down to save Danny.)

But yeah, I absolutely, delightfully agree that Battinson is just. internally panicking the entire time. From the rooftops, to the car, to the driving all the way to the cave -- which, after a quick google search, is apparently in an abandoned train depot in Batman (2022). Which is fascinating to me, but I digress. His internal monologue consists of cussing out Danny's godfather, trying to figure out what the poison is, a repetitive use of the word "FUCK", and him going "keep him awake keep him awake keep him aWAKE--"

But like, in a more Bruce Wayne fashion.

Danny is curled up in the passenger seat beside him and Bruce keeps intermittently checking on him every few seconds. Danny just looks like shit, man. Poor kid has a seemingly unending bloody nose, he's coughed a few times already and each time sounds like its shaking through his lungs and taking a piece out. His breathing is hollow, quietly raspy, and Danny sounds like he's gasping each time he breathes in. He's pale, clammy and sweating, but trembling, and his eyes are glazed over, unfocused, and half-lidded.

Dealer's choice here but I'm very amused but also fond of the idea that Bruce, in an attempt to do anything to soothe this kid, panic-clips off his cape and kinda just. throws it at him. Cringes, then awkwardly tries to adjust it so it's laying over him like a blanket.

It works though! Danny, through his haze, cracks a smile at him before grabbing the cape and practically curling around it. He seems to visibly relax, and Bruce silently slumps with relief that his idea worked. I also think he tries to painfully make some sort of small talk but frankly the only valid form of "small talk" he knows is interrogation. Danny's too out of it to mind though.

Bruce asks him if he knows what his godfather used to poison him.

("Blood Bl'ssom.") ("What is that?") ("A k'nda plant. Issa type o' rose.") ("Where can I find one?") ("Y'can't.") (And hear Bruce's blood chills for a moment. "What do you mean?") ("Blossoms went extinct in th- in the 1600s.") ("What? How is that possible? How'd your godfather get his hands on one?") ("Science.")

He also learns that the poison is, horrifyingly, cannibalistic, and Danny reassures him that he kinda stopped feeling the pain a few hours ago. Then he gags on nothing and spirals into an ugly coughing fit. "...Mostly." He adds on.

I have this very vivid mental image of Battinson screeching to a stop in the cave, Alfred's off to the side messing with some prototype gadgets. Bruce's side door swings open and Alfred's in the middle of snarkily asking if he's decided to get a reasonable amount of sleep tonight, only to immediately eat his tongue when Bruce beelines to the other side of the car and frantically pulls a waifish victorian kid with the tuberculosis blood cough to match out of the passenger's side.

("Dear god, what happened!?") ("His godfather poisoned him. I need towels and every medical device we have in here.")

The few photos I could find of the Battinson Cave did not imply there was a gurney in there, so Bruce uses on of the metal tables. He uses one arm to swipe off all the stuff on there onto the floor before laying Danny down.

It's. a very stressful time! That's for sure. Bruce is stuck between trying to get some form of antidote or at the very least a neutralizer to the blood blossom extract made, and also reassuring Danny that he's going to be fine. He's out of his depth.

They do get Danny stabilized though! How? Uh, I hadn't actually been able to think of how up until now, and this is just me trying to throw together an idea up on the fly. But Bruce like, manages to make some kind of 'antidote' that doesn't completely kill the blood blossom extract, but it makes the poison at least forcibly slow down.

[Forced to put a read more because this got SO LONG. oops]

"like what do i do with this kid. where do i put him. i cant just leave him in the cave. im DEFINITELY not leaving him alone" <<< is his sudden internal crisis after Danny's stabilized and passed out on the table. Giving him back to his godfather is completely off the fucking table, and Bruce can't give him up to CPS because there's a risk that he'll also return to his godfather.

He ends up, unsurprisingly to all of us, on deciding to keep Danny with him for the time being. At least until they can get his godfather behind bars. And you're right! Danny can't stay in the cave -- it's a half-furnished, rundown train depot. There's a tetanus shot waiting around each corner. It's Bruce's (reluctant) idea to take him up to the manor.

So Danny wakes up in an incredibly gothic guest bedroom, not feeling 100%, but also not feeling like total death like he did yesterday. He can still feel the blood blossom in him -- it leaves a joint and muscle soreness throughout his whole body, and when he breathes there's a weight there.

His confusion over where he woke up -- because it's very much not Vlad's place -- is overshadowed by his frank awe. You can't tell me he hasn't developed an appreciation and fondness of gothness due to his friendship with Sam. He might not be into it like Sam is, but he can appreciate the beauty when it's right in front of him.

#and hes got that awkward silent staring thing going on. Danny's trying not to die and vlads not there anymore#so hes unbothered by it really

Bruce pulled up a chair next to Danny's bed in the manor and didn't move a single inch the entire time. Just. sat there and stared to make sure the kid didn't stop breathing in the middle of the night. Probably has some facial recognition scanner going to try and figure out Danny's last name -- whether that works or not is dealer's choice frankly.

Either way, Danny turns his head to the left and nearly jumps three feet into the air when he sees Bruce and his 'stares into your soul' blue eyes. Sends him into a minor coughing fit by accident. Battinson very awkwardly and quietly apologizes. danny kinda just waves him off.

That's a whole conversation I'm not gonna go into, but to sum it up Bruce asks how Danny's feeling, and Danny tells him that he feels better, but he can still feel the blood blossom poison. So whatever he did, didn't get rid of all of it. (He's still incredibly fucking grateful nonetheless)

cue that "getting to know you" interrogation stuff.

(Danny can probably keep the full extent of his halfa status a secret from Bruce at first, but he is forced to tell Bruce about the ectoplasm running through him since it's the only reason the blood blossom toxin even works on him. Which results in him telling him a.. slightly omitted version of why he even has that in there in the first place.)

(Maybe he reveals that he was a hero in order to convince Bruce to let him out on the field rather than being just support? I've got ideas and fortunately your tags will help me delve into them)

#alfred pretends to be exasperated that bruce kidnapped a kid but honestly hes relieved#maybe being responsible for someone else will make bruce more responsible for his own health

no notes. just know that i'm wheezing at this. my friend @kingcrow01 had Alfred essentially reacting the same fucking way.

#the media would eat it up are you kidding??? the reclusive prince of gotham seen with a mysterious child???#and theyve both got that sickly pathetic wet cat look to them what with bruce constantly being injured and danny being chronically poisoned

FR! I love social media shenanigans and I love seeing it in fic (Lex Luthor's Ascent From Supervillainy To Fatherhood is a really good example of it imo), although i'm not too good at making it myself. Imagining how twitter in-universe might react to photo evidence of Danny with Bruce is going to fuel my desire for seeing people's reactions to things for ages. I am delighted to imagine that dumpster fire. The in-universe memes, guys.

Nobody has any clue what this mysterious Wayne child looks like for the longest time because Danny follows Bruce's lead and dresses in Anti-Paparazzi Recluse Fits. Mostly because he's the godchild of an equally reclusive and influential billionaire figure, and I imagine Vlad would pitch a media fit trying to find his poor, beloved godson.

Can you imagine the fucking SCANDAL if people found out that Vlad Masters' godson ran off and was currently living with recluse Gotham Prince Bruce Wayne? The tabloids would eat this shit up. It's a three-course meal that's paying their rent for the next three months. That's not even to say what Vlad might do upon finding out Danny's whereabouts.

So yeah, photo evidence of Danny only has shots of him wearing a large hoodie, one of Bruce's jackets, and a medical face mask and a hat. It doesn't hide any of the Sickly Pathetic Wet Cat look, if anything it enhances it. But you can see his bright 'staring into your soul like the oracle of delphi' blue eyes, and the black curls plastering his face, and his pale skin.

In some photos, as blurry as they are, Danny appears to be leaning into Bruce's side, seemingly using him as a support. The "antidote" (medicine?) Bruce created that first night was effective, but it wears off eventually. Before they make his medical bracelets, the both of them agree to use the antidote Bruce made to stave off the worst of the poison.

These photos are taken around the times the antidote was wearing off or had worn off, and the toxin was taking itself out of the backseat and shifting back into high gear. Despite that, Danny managed to convince Bruce to let him tag along on whatever shopping run he was on.

Someone took one of these photos and captioned it "Pathetic Wet Cat and his Sickly Pathetic Wet Kitten" and posted it on SMS. It got numbers.

Oh my god, I just thought of this but when Battinson is finally cornered by reporters asking him about Danny he does this:

he internally panics, and then with a straight face says "i don't know what you're talking about. i don't have a son." and then he Flees.

(this blows up in his face because the reporter he responded to never asked him if Danny was his son, they asked him who the boy seen with him was. Bruce is trending on twitter before he even makes it home. He's mortified. There's potential here for a scene between Bruce and Danny where they have that long-awaited 'are we family?' conversation.)

#i know everyone's focusing on danny working as a hero with batman and his relationships with dick and jason and everyone as the older siblin#but im still stuck on early days batman with a teenager to care for and how that dynamic is going to be SO DIFFERENT#than that same bruce with a 9 year old Dick. like the circumstances are so different and hes never bat-dopted a kid before this

NO BECAUSE YOU GET IT. YOU GET IIIIT! I fucking love older brother danny, however the biggest appeal of the "eldest son danny" idea is in fact how he and bruce's relationship would have to play out in order for that to happen. You could argue that Danny could be an 'older brother figure' to the Robins and still not have any familial affiliation with Batman, but the fact of the matter is, simply? I want that familial affiliation with Bruce. I want to see how that would play out, and how it would develop.

I am. a scientist prodding a little glass stirring rod at the potential family dynamic of Bruce Wayne and Danny Fenton and going, in complete wonderment and awe, "wow. fascinating. how does that work? how did you happen? what made you? how can i do it again?"

I also think there could be something fascinating over the fact that Bruce Wayne watched his parents die in front of him, while Danny's parents don't even know Danny died at all. A (once) child with dead parents, and a dead child with living parents. I think there's something to be explored there, I just haven't yet figured out what.

And yeah! a teen is completely different than an 8 year old. They're in very different developmental stages in their life, and that's not even addressing their lifestyle differences. When I made this prompt I mentally kinda just placed the death of danny's parents as having happened a few months ago. To me, it feels like enough time for Vlad's temperament to escalate from bad to worse, and for him to actually cook up that blood blossom toxin.

Danny's at a different mourning period compared to Dick, who was brought in while it wasn't even a day old. Maybe Danny hasn't had much time to mourn his family as much as he's wanted because he's been stuck in survival mode living with Vlad, and once he feels secure with Bruce he can finally tap into that grief he's been keeping on the backburner.

Lots of things to explore that can adjusted and changed as needed! Very flexible.

All in all though, I am a sucker for found family and in order for Danny to have family in Dick and the others, he needs to find it with Bruce.

#and this one has a crazy demon murder godfather and poison blood and a history of punching otherworldly apocalypse-creatures#into another dimension. no parenting book will help.

no notes here other than yeah, agreed, wheeze. The good news is that he doesn't need to be completely afraid that those otherworldly potential-apocalypse kickstarters will show up at any random point, Because, imo, Danny shut down and destroyed the portal before he could be shipped off in order to prevent anyway (cough-the GIW-cough) from accessing it. Vlad's the only one with a working portal currently and he's not as careless as the fentons are as to keep it open willy-nilly.

now the only thing he needs to worry about is the crazy demon godfather and the flora-boros blood toxin in his son's veins! whoo.

#and like yeah danny will want to help gotham and save people#but honestly? with his new limitations and no expectations from a previous robin do you think he would do it the same way?

I love this question! because honestly when I was initially expanding on this idea on my own, my initial answer was "no" due to the toxin's limitations. I had the same idea as you where Danny takes on a more 'oracle' role where he's not out in the field, but he's still helping behind the scenes. I was torn between "logically would this happen" as well as "chronically ill people aren't delicate flowers, they can do things" and a little dash of "okay but i really want nightingale out in the field"

In the end I decided that I liked the idea of Danny actually out with Bruce, and that as a result there would need to appropriate consequences and drawbacks for this decision.

#idk guys he fights ghosts because no one else can#i think he'd probably play a much more supportive role. at least at first. << you're totally right, too. And Danny's motivations for wanting to help in Gotham would have to be different than in Amity Park. Oooo this has good character growth potential.

Danny helps Amity Park out of a sense of obligation right? Like obviously it's also because he's a good person, but ultimately it kinda comes across as an obligation. He's the only one who can, so he's the one to do it, despite the fact that throughout the show he's shown to want that normal life. There's guilt there if he doesn't do anything; he has the power to stop this, so why shouldn't he?

(Oo, doesn't that sound kinda familiar? Guilt over something he ultimately has no control over, but thinks he could have?)

So! For him to choose to decide to rejoin the hero life, and not just from behind the curtain, feels like a pretty big character decision to me. Especially because now, he doesn't really have the power to help. Not like he did before.

He's sickly, essentially powerless because using his powers speeds up the toxin, and equipped only with his wits, his creativity, and whatever fighting skills he may have acquired during his time as Phantom -- and whatever martial arts prowess the author decides to have Maddie pass down to Danny.

He's not doing this because he feels like he has to, but because he wants to. I think that's pretty cool.

You reminded me that ideas can be combined too! It's dealers choice for anyone who wants to throw their hat into the ring in how Danny decides to join the frontline fight.

I'm going to kinda contradict myself here but one of my ideas for Danny going from behind-the-scenes to in-your-face-scenes is just. Batman needing backup for a fight. I'm not going to go into specifics for who he's facing, because frankly i'm not sure myself, but he needs backup.

And Danny, who likes to sit in the cave more often than not, waiting for Bruce to come back, sees this through whatever cameras are available. He's stressed out, worried for Batman's safety. This could be a good catalyst for the overarching subplot of him rejoining the hero scene as well as hey, maybe realizing that he doesn't need his powers to help people.

Danny's warring with himself about what to do. Trying to soothe his anxieties by reminding himself that Bruce is an incredible fighter and good at getting out of tight spots, telling himself it would be fine. Rebuffing the little voice in his mind saying he should help by telling it that he might make things worse. And when his subconscious tries to tell him that he can help, he rebuffs it by saying does he need to?

And there, right there, is what's been playing on repeat for however long it takes for him to become nightingale. Every night: "I can help, but do I need to?" and during this night is when he has an epiphany; "No, but I want to."

it's like the sun peaking through the clouds after weeks of gray skies. He wants to help. He can help, but not because he should or because he's able to, although that is important, but because he wants to.

So he finds where Bruce hides the face paint, smears what he think is an adequate amount on his face -- it looks almost mask like. And hunts down one of the spare utility belts -- he ends up having to wrap it around his shoulder and torso like a bandolier due to how tall Bruce is and how willowy Danny is. he already has a hoodie on, and pulls it up over his head. And fuck it, i'm calling down the Rule of Cool Law. Danny finds one of Bruce's spare capes and tears it up to make a makeshift scarf to better hide his face. He gets some other tools he needs that he knows Bruce uses, and then he's off.

(Bruce is both very shocked and very upset when Danny comes crashing through the ceiling with a faux-confident; "Hiyo, B! You're looking pretty bat-tered, so I thought I'd come in and give a helping claw!")

(Results in what I think is a very funny post-fight conversation where they have something of a hissed argument in front of the half-conscious criminals. "what are you doing here?!" "i wanted to help!" "where'd you learn to fight like this?" "mom taught me" -> which causes a fucking BUZZ in the criminal underground when word gets out.)

there's conflict. argument over bruce not wanting danny to come out to help him. Until danny eventually wins out in the end by pulling up footage of phantom on the batcomputer, revealing his previous hero status, and pure damn stubbornness. Bruce agrees but only after he updates Danny's self-defense and gets him a proper suit.

#alfred cant handle TWO wet rats getting beat up every night lol

singling this out because it's funny and you're rIGHT.

#danny innovating new and better bat gadgets. making good humanitarian use of the wayne money in ways that would make sam proud. #making sure alfred isnt the only thing standing between bruce and bruce's death at the hands of the city he loves

Danny's bambi eyes are lethal work, and Alfred's favorite employ whenever Bruce is being stubborn. Even after rejoining the active hero scene, Danny will still team up with Alfred to drag Bruce to bed or rest. Excuse you, don't make the same mistakes he did! He's the elder hero here!

Danny churns out so many anti-ghost gadgets for Bruce for the inevitable confrontation with Vlad, along with non-ecto gadgets just because he wants him safe. It becomes an unusual bonding experience for the both of them to come up with gadget ideas together and then figuring out how to make it work, and then building them together.

Vigilante equivalent of helping dad in the garage except you're both fixing the car and telling the other to grab them the 3/5th quarter-inch flathead screwdriver from the toolbox.

Danny is delighted to have someone to bounce ideas off of with, as does Bruce.

For the good old "fights are one of the ways ghosts socialize" trope: They have regular training sessions, but it's Danny who asks if they could sometimes just have some for-fun sparring sessions. Then has to very embarrassedly explain to Bruce that it's just something ghosts do with each other to socialize sometimes.

Bruce reads between the lines and sees it for what it is: play fighting. Danny's asking to play fight. There are no parenting books on taking care of a half-ghost teen, but he immediately thinks on a documentary on lions he saw a while ago and agrees.

These play fights more often than not result in Danny being tossed around like a ragdoll and loving it -- he's light as feathers and being thrown up into the air feels like he's flying again. Something he can't do anymore for obvious reasons. Plus the ghostly bonding thing.

I don't have much to add about the humanitarian use of wayne money thing, i agree. It also makes Bruce proud and could help inspire him to start getting more involved with Wayne Industries so he can start using his parents' company for humanitarian use as well.

#MAN imagine the fluff of danny learning to decipher bat grunts#if anyone has experience seeing past the crazy obsessive seemingly single minded focus of a parental figure and to the real love and care#that exists so deeply and truly under and throughout it all it'll be danny

aaaaaa, man you're so right. i was talking to crow about this but, for context, the idea was that Nightingale has a tendency to sometimes bite his opponents. And it's become something almost like a signature surprise move because he has Ghost Fangs, but the first time this happens its during some kind of gang fight between B, Gale, and a handful of goons.

However, the fight halts to surprised stop when one of the guys shrieks out; "OW, HE BIT ME!" and like a spell, everyone turns, flabbergasted, towards the guy who said it. Because what the fuck did you mean he bit you, wHY IS HE BITING.

And there, hanging off the guy's arm with all the smug self-satisfaction of a cat, is Nightingale, with his fangs still chomped down onto the guy's arm. There's a few seconds of silence, long enough for everyone to see what's going on, before Gale reorients his momentum and kicks the guy square in the jaw; knocking him out cold.

The thing that catches everyone's attention is that Nightingale drew blood. They watch, half-terrified, half-baffled, as the kid scrunches his nose up, wipes at his mouth, and makes a noise of disgust. He turns to look at Batman, who has also stopped what he's doing to stare as well.

Nightingale asks him; "Am I gonna have to get checked for this?"

Rather than deign him with a response, Batman remains silent. They stare at each other for three whole seconds, before Nightingale clicks his tongue like Batman had said something he didn't like, but expected.

"Aw, okay." Then without missing a beat, he turns and launches himself like a feral cat at the closest person next to him, and the room descends back into chaos once more.

Man, I'm just imagining them working next to each other on their own personal project, and Danny will quietly ask for Bruce's opinion on something. Bruce gives him a single grunt, and Danny's silent for a moment, contemplative, before muttering something like "huh, i guess you're right" or "oh, good idea."

Danny eventually adopts Bruce's little "hrm" quirk himself, and it slowly goes from: "hey, what do you think about this?" "hrm" "that's what I thought too" to: "..hmn?" "hm."

The ever consistent urge to make Your Blorbo The Most Specialist Character On The Block Ever is forever a plague of mine, and I'm very tempted to say that Danny is the only other kid except Cass who can do the "hm?" "hn" thing back to back with Bruce. Don't get me wrong, the other batkids can do the "Hey X thing" "hm" "okay" thing, and on some level can do the "hm" "hm" thing too, but they can't do it quite to the same extent as Danny can, and its from those years where it was just the two of them.

but yess!! I agree! Danny's got experience with that kind of obsessiveness, Bruce reminds him a lot of his parents that way and he understands it the best out of all his siblings as a result. It also means, however, that he willingly goes in to drag Bruce out of whatever obsessive rabbit hole he's fallen into, if he feels that Bruce has been too hyperfocused on something. He saw it with his parents, and it ended up killing them. He's not losing another dad because of his foolish tunnel vision.

#bruce is so much quieter than his parents but man if danny doesnt understand him. and maybe bruce comes to learn what dannys used to as well#comes to learn to speak his affection and open up so much more. to make danny feel more comfortable and welcome

AGAIN, NO NOTES. This is perfect and yes. I've got nothing to add.. okay I lied, i just needed a moment to think. Bruce isn't the most physically affectionate person, but he starts to be thanks to Danny, who is very tactile. Same thing with verbal praise, Danny hardly got any of it in school or, regretfully, at home since Jazz tended to get all the praise.

Bruce tells him "good eye" once after Danny spotted something before Bruce did, and Danny preened so brightly Bruce genuinely wondered if stars were going to appear over his head. He'd gotten his hands on video footage about Phantom that had shown him doing that exact same thing.

(oh which reminds me. The moment Danny tells Bruce about his previous hero experience as Phantom, Bruce goes on a research helldive to get his hands on everything about it. He's watched every single video showing Phantom. There were very few videos of Phantom that weren't videos of his fights, which were horrifying to watch on multiple levels.

Including but not limited to the fact that ghosts could apparently survive the most lethal of injuries, and he was never going to get the image of Phantom yanking a steel pipe out of his chest out of his head, or him pulling out a broken chunk of glass from his throat.)

(It was even worse seeing videos of Danny's parents shooting at him. That was a long, uncomfortable conversation.)

Another time Bruce is asking Danny about being a ghost, and Danny wistfully tells him that the thing he misses most is flying. Grappling through the city is the closest thing to it, but it's still fundamentally different -- and in some ways more exciting -- than flying. The closest comparison he could give is an indoor skydiving ring.

Bruce, a week later, rents out an indoor skydiving ring for the day and Danny spends hours inside the wind tunnel. He tells Bruce all about the similarities and differences in the car on the drive home, and then tells him that next time Bruce should try it too.

Just, all-in-all, seeing how these two interact and impact each other is what makes this so appealing to me. Especially with early years Batman. And I had so much fun typing all this out, thanks for the opportunity to infodump haha.

#UGH OP THIS POST TT-TT

AH YOUR TAGS <33

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[pinkberrytea]

He had tasted you once; now, he craves every inch of your being, his hunger insatiable.

Little death—a gift he bestowed upon her, and which she bestows upon him in turn. As her lifeblood touches his lips, Astarion reminisces about the fateful eve when he first sank his fangs into her pretty neck.

Come, gentle night; and when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars.

Astarion x Tav (F!Reader)

w/c: 3.1k words . ao3 . spotify playlist . 18+ only . nsfw . dividers

a/n: i can't be the only one who is convinced my man is down bad since the very first bite, right? he is so interesting to me! i wanted to explore this idea further, hopefully i did it justice. thank you for reading!

( part 2 here )

tags: blood drinking; fluff & smut; possessive behavior; masturbation; body worship; mildly dubious consent; dry humping; somnophilia

“Later on, when we are at rest, I will eat you right up. Just enough to give me strength, and just enough to leave you wishing for more.”

Footsteps. You hear them approaching, although in your half-unconscious torpor, you can’t tell if they’re near or far. You’re likewise unsure of what has disturbed your sleep, even if as of late, nights have been restless and plagued by nightmares, the worm etched in the recesses of your brain a constant, unforgiving reminder of your plight. Your mind is still hazy, fragments of your dreams clouding your thoughts, so you rely on your primal instincts instead—you smell nothing but the crisp evening air, feel nothing but the cool breeze caressing your warm body, see nothing but endless darkness from behind your closed eyelids, but your ears don’t fail you. You instinctively hold your breath, muscles tensed, staying as still as possible as if playing dead; the footsteps are now almost upon you, the crunching of leaves growing louder and muffling the noise of the crickets singing, and your skin becomes covered in goosebumps in anticipation, the pit of your stomach twisting and turning. Whoever it is, you seem to be their intended target.

Suppressing the mounting panic rising within your chest, you try to gather your bearings and make sense of the situation. You know where you are—Elturgard, or more specifically, a camp in the wilderness, somewhere between Elturel and Baldur’s Gate. Finding a cure for the parasite wriggling in your head is the reason you’re here, and the companions with whom you’re sharing your camp are afflicted by the same condition. Ah, your companions—the footsteps must belong to one of them, surely. The soothing heat of the campfire has significantly dwindled compared to how it was when you turned in, its crackling so low you can barely hear it, and the night is sufficiently chilly that your bedroll fails to offer enough shelter, so you wonder if they are about to tend to the dying flames, or maybe ask you to help them do so. You wait expectantly, pricking up your ears, but suddenly, the crunching sounds come to a halt, and you sense a presence looming over you. A shiver runs down your spine, and your heart starts beating faster, thumping so loudly you’re afraid it may give away your awakened state. The presence silently kneels down beside you, crawling even closer, too close for comfort; and then, you feel it—cold digits ghosting over your cheek, their featherlight touch almost tentatively soft.

Astarion.

Now you remember. You offered to let him feed on you earlier, a habit which you’ve unexpectedly picked up in recent days, although the reason for such eludes you. Perhaps it was his pained expression when he asked you the first time, or maybe something else—you’re not entirely certain, but the fact of the matter is, he is here, except unlike other nights, you are fully aware of your surroundings. Not only that, it has been no more than a fortnight since your little tryst in that pretty clearing, which it seems both of you are intent on pretending never happened. You more so than him—it would be insincere of you to claim you haven’t noticed the dangerous glint in his eyes, how he leans closer when you talk, the cunning smirks and wistful glances. Truth be told, you’re still unsure what to make of it all; none of it is how you expected it would be, not your time together, and certainly not the aftermath. Him, too—though it may be bold of you to assume so, you can’t help but think that his show of vulnerability, however brief, had not been intentional. Ever so often you idly muse over the raw perplexity etched across his face when you invited him to drink from you then, how he looked at you in utter disbelief, letting the mask of a debonair lover slip for a split second; how his kisses became more fervent, his touches less calculated, the confusion never truly seeming to leave him until you were done. And then, the morning after—the hurt in his voice, the complex feelings he appeared to be trying to suppress seeping from every word, as if he had been prepared for anything and everything but genuine yearning, and you ruined it all for him.

“This isn’t about hunger. It’s about pleasure.”

The digits on your cheek slide downwards, gliding across the curve of your jaw and towards your slender neck, where they stop for a brief moment, only to then press down on it, feeling around as if searching for something—an artery, pulsing so very tantalizingly with your precious crimson, a feast set out entirely for him. With his other hand, he gently runs his fingers through your hair and brushes it behind your shoulder, exposing his prize, and repositioning himself to straddle you, he lowers his head until his mouth is hovering right above it. He stays like this for a while, and your blood runs cold as it dawns on you that he may have noticed you are not asleep, but before long, his skin finally comes into contact with yours—however, rather than the sharp pain you’d been expecting, you feel only the pillowy softness of his lips; a tender kiss, which is then followed by another, and then another. One of his hands stays tangled in your hair, cradling your head, and he splays the other on the ground beside you to support himself. His fangs lightly graze the throbbing vein with each peck, almost teasingly, until finally, he sinks them into the sensitive flesh, carefully and steadily so as not to wake you. The uncomfortable sensation is not foreign to you, although it is clear he has become more accustomed to this, even if you have not; his technique has significantly improved, and after the initial stab, it hardly hurts anymore, other than a dull ache every time he swallows, which he does quite enthusiastically.

“Just you and me and—well, maybe a little death?”

Letting out low grunts and guttural moans as he drinks, Astarion sucks ever so vigorously, seemingly more at ease due to your apparent lack of consciousness. Your face gradually grows warmer as you notice tension building up low in your stomach, the noises he makes and the feeling of his plush lips and wet tongue against your skin causing your body to react with pathetic wantonness. You try to stifle the impending arousal, doing your best to remind yourself that he is only feeding, nothing more, nothing less; until you notice the hand on which he had been leaning make its way from its place on the ground to rest on your waist, gingerly moving upwards until his long fingers brush against the plump of one of your breasts, almost as if by accident—it is, however, no accident when two of them then pinch a pebbling nipple through the thin fabric of your nightshirt, delicately massaging the pert nub while the others knead the squishy surrounding flesh. The ache between your legs swells with desire, and you flusteredly bite back the whimper threatening to escape the confines of your closed mouth; believing you to be deep in slumber, he has no reason for such restraint, and his vocalizations increase in frequency and volume alike. 

Having to now use his upper body strength to keep himself propped up, he decides to instead gently fall on top of you, momentarily unlatching from your neck to then slightly push you to the side and press his strong chest flush against your back, one hand woven in your hair and the other cupping your breast still. With almost desperate keenness, he hooks one of his legs over yours, shoving his crotch against your rear, and immediately you notice the rock hard bulge nudging the space between your buttocks. The tips of your ears burn bright red at this realization, making you wonder how common of an occurrence this must be; as your mind wanders to the night when he first bit you, he sinks his fangs back into the bruised vein, and your eyes water a little due to the sudden pain, which you quickly forget about once you feel his hips start almost imperceptibly grinding against your own. Wedging the bulge deeper within the valley of your ass, he moves it to and fro, almost in rhythm with his sucking of your blood, the digits on your bosom earnestly playing with your nipple and those in your hair tenderly caressing the tousled tresses. 

“Hm—hnng…” Astarion groans lewdly, lasciviously, making suggestive wet sounds while sensually lapping at your crimson. No longer satisfied to feel you up through your clothes, he sticks his hand under your shirt, and his cold fingers quickly resume fondling the soft skin of your breast, in response to which shock waves shoot up your legs and arms. Freeing the digits tangled in your hair, he brings them to your ribs, sliding their pads along your navel and down towards your groin, where he then firmly grabs one of your supple thighs. That’s when it occurs to you how unlike your night together he seems to be acting—eagerly exploring your body with almost adolescent clumsiness, his movements sloppy and impulsive, he appears to be entirely focused on taking rather than giving; having no reason to try to impress you, he acts greedily instead, intent on achieving his own personal ecstasy above all else, a fact that doesn’t bother so much as instill in you a puzzling sense of relief.

Increasing the pace of his thrusts, he tightens the grip of his leg around yours, and for a short while you all but forget that your crimson is running down his throat still, unable to focus on anything but the heat irradiating from his skin as it becomes ever warmer the more he feeds. When you notice you can no longer feel the tips of your toes, it is far too late—a tingling sensation spreads across your heavy limbs due to the loss of blood, and holding onto a single thought proves far too difficult, your mind now a messy whirlwind of memories and abstractions. Your arousal persists even as your conscience starts to wane; slick soaks through your underpants, the sweet scent of which causes Astarion to immediately stop moving, freezing as if caught with his fingers inside the cookie jar. After what seems like an eternity, both his hands and fangs leave your helpless form, and he shuffles behind you, presumably looking for something—before you can even begin to wonder what, you feel him press a soft piece of fabric against the fresh set of bite marks on your neck, which he uses to gently wipe the thick red blooming from the small wounds. 

Worried that any further stimulation might disturb your sleep, he decides to attempt a less bold approach instead, pulling away slightly, although your legs remain twisted together. Barely awake now, the echoes of the forest reach your ears in hushed, distant hums, but you can still hear him as he brings the bloodstained cloth to his nose, taking in your scent deeply, eyes closed and a libidinous moan falling from his pretty lips. One of his now freed hands hastily makes its way to the waistband of his pants, only to then slip under it, and as soon as his elegant digits brush against the velvety crown of his cock, he wraps them around its engorged girth, squeezing lightly and drawing pearly droplets of precome from the weeping slit. 

“Mngh…” he croaks, his voice raspy and hoarse, and you can’t tell for sure, but a whisper that vaguely sounds like your own name wafts through the air and vanishes into the evening sky as he starts sliding his hand up and down his length, smearing the clear liquid seeping from the leaking tip all over himself. Prior to your night of passion, this is how he would choose to relieve the painful erection inevitably provoked by his daily feedings, only he would retreat to his tent then; once you became more intimate, things changed, and raw eroticism would percolate into every session, images of your moments together sweeping through his mind and springing his aching sex to life with each gulpful of your lifeblood. The instant you offered him your neck, all he had ever known suddenly came into question—drinking from you while balls-deep into your tight cunt was an experience unlike any other, to the point of almost completely resignifying the concept of pleasure for him. By owning your body, he had made you his, even if only temporarily; your blind trust was something he had never before experienced, and not once had he felt so powerful as with you squirming under him, completely submitting to his whims. 

“Astarion, please…” he recalls you whimpering, the sound of his name on your pink tongue so enticingly sultry, stirring up in him all sorts of conflicting feelings; lust, infatuation, guilt, anger, all blended together and indistinguishable from one another. How beautiful a vision you had made then—such a pretty, luscious thing, flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes glinting with coquettish longing. The more he finds himself caring, the more he hates you for it; the more his hatred for you grows, the more he wants you by his side. Choosing to manipulate you into a tactical alliance was the culmination of careful and meticulous deliberation—at once deadly and most pleasing to the eye, yet seemingly unaware of either fact; a naive, kind fool, lost and alone, his perfect target from every angle, you were the obvious candidate. He had no way of knowing at the time—how you would unwittingly beat him at his own game and steal your way into his undead heart, without even really trying. 

While pumping his now glistening cock, your precious face is all Astarion can think of, every detail of it perpetually burned onto his retinas—long, thick lashes, curtaining doe-like eyes; sweet little freckles speckling the bridge of your nose; smooth skin and plump rosy lips, so soft and kissable. And your scent, oh, your scent—delicious and intoxicating, such a lovely, delectable bouquet. Although now warm, his hand could never compare to the feeling of your slickened walls clenching and fluttering around him, and no amount of pressure would ever be able to replicate the sensation of stretching them open, coaxing yelps and cute whiny pants out of you with each nudge of your cervix. He wonders for a moment what other expressions he has yet to witness you make; in what other manners he has yet to take you, in what other positions he has yet to watch you come undone. Maybe on all fours, that round ass of yours sticking out so very invitingly, begging to be devoured; maybe on your knees, darkened lips wrapped tightly around his cock, eyes watering and drool dripping down onto the swollen peaks of your perky breasts as you accommodate all of him like the good girl you are. Each idea is more enticing than the one before, and the very thought of acquainting himself with all the ins and outs of your body makes him feel alive, bulging veins and tumid cockhead pulsating madly against his sweaty palm as he goes over the endless possibilities. He had tasted you once; now, he craves every inch of your being, his hunger insatiable. 

“Mine…” he growls possessively, picturing your tits bouncing and the rouged knot atop your dripping core throbbing for him as he feels his climax draw nearer, rubbing the cloth sullied with your crimson against his nose, your taste still fresh in his mouth and a trail of red running down his chin. You are not his, not yet, but although he curses himself for it, he would bring his simple plan to fruition, for all the wrong reasons; he wants you, he needs you—his own little bundle of joy, his light in the darkness, his glimmer of solace, his, his, his, and his alone. He won’t share your kindness, not with your companions, not with anyone, and he cares not if his greediness makes him unworthy, for he never deserved any of it in the first place; regardless, you’d still extend a hand to the wretch who put a knife to your throat, toyed with your emotions and sucked you dry, in more ways than one. You may not realize it, but in sharing your life essence with him, you breathed color into his world, roused within his soul a vital spark he’d long forgotten had once ever been there. He may not be entitled to it, but he’d still have it all—he’d still have you, to the bone and beyond.

“Oh, gods…” With one last stroke, Astarion empties himself on his hand and stomach, legs convulsing and hips stuttering, letting go of the cloth to then nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, lips pressed against the bloodied gashes maculating your otherwise flawless skin. The inside of his pants is now covered in come, yet even as the thick fluid runs uncomfortably down his thighs, he feels strangely at peace—happy, even. His softening cock twitches and jerks still, but fearing that his luck may soon run out, he lets go of it and wipes his fingers on the hem of his shirt, which he learns is also stained with his seed; once they’re sufficiently clean, he wraps both of his arms around your waist in a tight embrace, focusing on the gentle raising of your chest as you inhale ever so softly, finally at rest. 

“This is a gift, you know.”

He won’t forget it. Regardless of what may lie ahead, he won’t. Warm flesh, beating heart; as your crimson courses through his veins, the thread of life now connects you both, your fates forever intertwined. When morning comes, all will be back to normal, but for now, he shall hold you, cradle you, as he would a lover. A true lover—though what would that be, if not prey that wakes by his side once the dawn breaks? Disturbing as that thought may be, it is of little import for now; basking in the clarity of death, he allows himself a moment of reprieve, for your time together is far from over. What treasures will the future bestow? Why—finding out is but a matter of waiting.

[chuulyssa]

🇨​​ 🇴 ​​🇳 ​​🇫​​ 🇪 ​​🇸​​ 🇸 ​​🇮 ​​🇴 ​​🇳​ ！

BSD MEN REACTING TO A CONFESSION.

↷ A/N ─ yes new divider again because im indecisive as heck

★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , atsushi , fyodor

!! TAGS ─ mentions of suicide, insecurities, overall fluff

"i love you."

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.

promptly replies with, "i love you too."

he'll lean into you with an amused smile because he lowkey thinks you're joking

when he realizes you're serious about it he'll immediately stop the stupid grin

and look at you with this sincere look you've never seen on his face before

he'll hold your hand and everything while repeating "i love you too," for a second time, only this time he's serious about it too

definitely asks for double suicide later

"You know it's my motto to unalive myself with a beautiful woman. How lucky of you to have been bestowed upon this honour."

"Mhm."

"I'll say yes if you join me in a double suicide," he asks with puppy eyes.

"Dazai, you already said yes."

"I'll say it again!"

​ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.

he stops abruptly and half chokes on his expensive ass wine

poor boy is really confused 😭 because "where did that come from??"

he tries to play it cool but he's literally SCREAMING inside

we all know he's been betrayed a lot of times in the past so he feels hesitant about it

will decide to give it a shot tho

100% calls dazai to brag about it

"You may be taller or whatever (as if that matters in the first place) but were you the one able to steal her heart? Eh? I think not!"

You chuckle hearing him update his rival of his new relationship status.

"And anyway," he raises a glass of wine for toast. "I'd like to thank my good looks, good looks and did I mention my good looks (?) for making tonight the happiest night ever."

ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.

"i know."

he has always observed every single thing about you - how you behave around others vs how you behave around him, the little times you look at him like you want his attention etc etc

he's known about this since like soooo long

he defo also knew when where and how you were gonna confess

went to yosano for tips to react to it and bought you chocolates and stuff. he thinks it'll make you happy :D

eats all of that himself even tho he originally bought it for you but you let it slide because he's a cutie patootie

"You could at least have been a bit subtle about it," he says, munching on his chips. "I mean, anyone who saw you would've been able to guess. I didn't even need my ability for this!"

He lifts his chin up thoughtfully, fingers ripping open another packet of snacks. "You should be grateful I'm not a snitch. Eh, well," he shrugs, "You're now dating the greatest detective in the world! Congratulations!"

ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.

"eh???"

like chuuya, he's pretty confused too

"are you sure?"

tries to keep a straight face and hide his fluster

he'll narrow his eyes at you as if he's trying to read your emotions. he doesn't wanna get hurt if he gets too attached to you and you two end up breaking up

also how tf is he supposed to believe that someone like YOU like someone like HIM?

reassure him that he's perfect please :( poor baby deserves the world

"I am a lot of work. I don't think you can keep up with all of that," he says shortly.

"I'll try my best."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to!"

He stares at you for a few moments, looking like he's about to cry.

"Oh, alright then," he waves a hand around. "But don't you ever leave me."

ᴀᴛꜱᴜꜱʜɪ.

screams

"SAY IT AGAIN PLEASE!"

jumps around everywhere in happiness

you dont even get a verbal answer the man's just dancing around

either that or he just faints

he's, like akutagawa, insecure about himself. but he's much more open to showing his emotions to you.

you end up cuddling the whole night or he calls off work to be with you for the rest of the day <3

"I..." he repeats the same word for the fifth time in a row.

"Yes?"

"Don't mind me, I'm just trying to come to terms with the fact that I get to date you."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, no!" he panics, wringing both hands all over himself hastily. "I love you! Really!"

ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.

no reaction. im sorry

spares a small glance at you but otherwise doesn't get distracted from his work

you think he's gone deaf from the way he just ignored you cuz what????

will spend like 15 minutes that way before extending an arm to you and you lowkey DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO??? HELP??

he'll stare at you for a few seconds before pulling you onto his lap and continuing with his work

and that's his way of saying yes

He shuts the computers around him down and taps your outer thigh twice. You immediately stand up and help him up. He stares at you for a few seconds, contemplating something.

"You know, I never thought I'd enable others to call me a lovesick fool."

"Does that mean you are a lovesick fool?"

"A little, maybe," he turns around and walks out of the door while you follow him with a soft smile on your face.

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[01zfan]

glasses pt. 3

nerd!eunseok x reader | 7.5k words

the third installment to a well liked seriez. this couple is loved by me and so many other people. thank you to my dearie who commissioned me to write this. i got a little carried away (per usual). i hope it's to your liking heh and sorry for making oyu wait forever.

contains: eunseok plotting on the reader a lil, protected sex, fingering, oral sex (female and male receiving)

glasses: one | two | three

You didn’t tell Yunjin and Giselle about your visit to Eunseok’s until two weeks later. When you told them to guess what happened when you went over to his place after class they faked contemplation before answering in a second.

“He played on his computer while you were whoring out on his bed.” Giselle said.

“And he didn't even notice?” Yunjin added.

You had smug look on your face and in a second Giselle and Yunjin were looking at you with wide eyes. They leaned forward over their lunch trays to your side of the booth as you leaned backwards. You crossed your arms and Giselle and Yunjin looked to eachother before looking back to you.

“You’re fucking lying.” Giselle said.

“There’s no way.” Yunjin says.

You shrug to your friends skeptical faces, and then they were gasping so loud you had to preemptively shush them with a finger to your lips.

“You actually fucked him?” Giselle asks.

Giselle’s eyebrows are raised like she can’t quite believe it. Something about your friends doubting the idea of you and Eunseok getting together makes you want to defend him more. You remember Giselle and Yunjin saying he didn’t have it in him, that he didn’t like you to begin with.

“He actually fucked me.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

Yes you may have been playing it up to your friends. By your groups standards, you were definitely the one who fucked him. He was the one who came first (both times), the one you made the move on, the one you instructed. But they were doubting you and the man you had grown fond of. Stretching the truth a little wasn’t a problem. Eunseok was desperate to please and was red all the way down to his stomach, and he genuinely looked mortified when he realized you didn’t finish. He was a person after all, and he was one of the few men you felt fond of outside the idea of having sex. He was so oblivious to your advances but rose to the challenge as soon as he could. You had your fun with him, and seeing the shocked looks and slacked jaws of your friends made you laugh.

“No fucking way.” Giselle said.

You nodded your head and threw up your hands to really sell it. Giselle and Yunjin were giggling like schoolgirls in front of you repeating how they didn’t know he had it in him. You spared them the details, like his friends hearing him moan over voice chat and  how he was packing underneath all those baggy clothes. They were still reeling off the fact that you made it past putting out signals and him missing every single one.

“Have you seen him since?” Yunjin asked.

That’s when you shake your head. Before you can tell your friends that you haven’t been sitting in the same spot in class for two weeks or have been skipping the class all together, Yunjin and Giselle both look over your shoulder before tilting their heads to the side. Giselle looks at you and smiles, Yunjin starts looking at her plate.

“He’s coming over here.” Yunjin says under her breath.

You turn your body in the booth seat, desperately trying to not look over your shoulder but to also confirm who the he is. Certainly it’s not the same he who you were talking about seconds ago. He never comes to the cafe, instead cooking the same meal over and over in his dorm or ordering takeout. The only time you’ve seen him eating in the cafe was on the rare occasion he would join his friend.

But Eunseok was alone. He was alone and taking strides towards your lunch table, hand gripping the strap of his backpack. You stayed still in your seat, fulling eyeing him before turning to face your friends.

“Is he actually coming over here?” You ask, confused.

Although you’ve talked about Eunseok plenty to Giselle and Yunjin, they’ve never met. At most, they had built a relationship of crossing paths and awkward snatches of conversation. You walking with Giselle and Yunjin and calling out to Eunseok just to wave at him. Your unamused friends waving to not be rude and Eunseok waving back because he didn’t know what else to do. Trying to rope him into a conversation with your friends where he would avoid eye contact before making up a terrible excuse about needing to go to his next class.

Your friends had seen you a couple times before or after class when you’d be bothering Eunseok. You’re almost certain they’ve never exchanged words beyond the awkward hey and Eunseok avoiding eye contact. They’d tell him you that Eunseok was weird, but you’d tell him he was just shy. Once you really get to know him he’s a sweetheart, just a sweetheart who avoids conversation whenever he can. So it’s weird, seeing him barrel towards a conversation he doesn’t have to have with new people he’s barely met. But he’s determined, not stopping as Giselle nods her head to your question.

“He’s coming over here.” Giselle said.

Then, as if on cue, Eunseok’s steps started to falter. People pass by him, on their way back to the food for seconds or heading outside of the dining hall altogether. You, Yunjin, and Giselle don’t speak. Three pairs of eyes stare at him, you’re all still watching his next move. His steps get a little slower, Eunseok turns to nod to someone when they apologize for bumping into him. 

A quick glance backwards showed that he hesitated, then looked around, then he started moving with the traffic of people leaving to make a beeline for the vending machines.

“He’s no longer coming over here.” Yunjin said.

You waved your hands in front of your friends quickly, trying to get their attention away from Eunseok and back at you. Now it was you leaning over the table, making them come forward to hear you.

“That’s because you guys are staring at him.” You seethe underneath your breath.

Giselle further proved your point by carelessly looking over your shoulder, staring at Eunseok looking at the terribly curated selection of chips and snacks. After a second she’s already seen enough, looking at you.

“He’s fake browsing the vending machine.” She deadpans. 

Yunjin laughs, finally starting to eat her food. She spares a less obvious glance over her shoulder, a smile on her lips when she turns back to you.

“I think he’s waiting for you.” She says.

You swear you can see Eunseok’s ears turn pink as he presses his hand to the glass of the vending machine. He leans close, tilting his head and moving like he’s really trying to sell the fact that he’s considering buying something. You feel embarrassed that you find him obviously waiting so cute, even when your friends look at you like they can’t believe it. There’s no way the man that allegedly put it down on you two weeks ago is too afraid to walk over and say hi.

“Watch my stuff for me, please?” You ask your friends.

Yunjin and Giselle both ooh and aah at you quietly as you get up from the table. You have to wave your hands for them to be quiet again, and you start walking towards Eunseok. His back is turned towards you, and you know your appearance doesn’t matter. Whatever you do would have him blushing and avoiding eye contact all the same. Still, you find yourself making sure your shirt is falling just right on your body, your hair is laying the way it’s supposed to, and you’re clearing your throat to get ready to talk.

When you make it to the vending machine, Eunseok is still fake browsing. He’s looking at nothing but everything at the same time, pretending like you didn’t surprise him even though he jumps in his skin when he catches you in the reflection of the glass. The fluorescent lighting in the machine shows your reflection, and you can see Eunseok quickly glance to the side before you do the same thing. You find yourself starting to fake browse too, running over the assortment of snacks you don’t even like. 

People leaving the dining hall pass behind the two of you. No one is coming up to the machine, neither of you are making a purchase. Just looking past the glass, waiting for the other to say something first.

“I didn’t see you at class today.” Eunseok says.

The Oreo’s look tempting. You don’t remember the last time you tried Sun Chips.

“Just felt like playing hooky I guess.” You say.

You’re both still locked in on the vending machines. Atleast you don’t have to worry about a line, because no one bothers to waste their time or money to get stale snacks. They also don’t want to gamble either, because these machines are notorious for stealing your cash and not giving you anything in return. You still have the five dollar meal voucher from the lunch lady when it ate your money your first year. But still, maybe an expired Cliff Bar is worth it.

“You didn’t miss much.” Eunseok says. “Just the usual lecture stuff. There’s an assignment due tomorrow, though.”

You hum in acknowledgment, as if you both don’t know that you’ve already seen it. Eunseok has stated the obvious, because you know that he knows you’re not helpless in that class. The Orbit Gum tablets are calling your name in the bottom row. You bring your fingers over the button, before you can take the gamble and insert your five dollar bill you change your mind again.

“Wanna come over?” Eunseok asks.

Your hand freezes. The invitation makes you turn towards Eunseok, who’s still mindlessly staring ahead. You have never been on the receiving end of an invitation from him. Whenever you’ve ended up at his apartment it’s always been you inviting yourself over, taking advantage of the fact that he’s never told you no. Two weeks ago you told yourself you’d take a step back from being overbearing. You might’ve clung to him too hard, bothered him too much in class when he was trying to focus. Interrupting his games too woo him, invading his space since the semester started, disrupting the peace he created for himself. 

Hearing that he wants you over is different. Knowing that he has enjoyed you sitting on his bed and bothering him makes you feel like you’ve done something right. Another thing you find comforting is that Eunseok still stares forward, pretending like you’re not there. He’s nervous too, but you’ve never said no to him either. 

You know Giselle and Yunjin are watching. You’re sure they’re full on peering over the edge of the booth, shamelessly looking to see what the nerd is saying to their bestfriend. You have something to maintain with them and Eunseok alike, you’re not sure what but you must maintain it. So even when you feel like your chest is about to explode you move forward to be in his line of sight, peering up at him.  

His hand is tight around his backpack strap again, you can see the blush across his cheeks. Looking at his glasses takes you back to when they were resting on your flushed face, obscuring your vision while he fixed them crooked with shaking wet hands. You admire that he holds eye contact with you, even through him clearing his throat and his pupils shaking.

“Why do you want me to come over?” You ask.

Eunseok pushes his frames up with his other hand. You have to cross your arms to hide the fact you’re pinching your sides in an attempt to ground yourself. Why are you so much more nervous now than you were on the edge of his bed two weeks ago? The lack of contact since then must be the reason. The fact that you two are both trying to seem unbothered while clearly being bothered  must also be another reason. Giselle and Yunjin watching just a few feet away is the terrible cherry on top.

“I got a drone.” He says. 

When you accepted Eunseok’s invitation and half-assed reason for wanting you over you bounded back to the table like nothing happened. They both imitated how Eunseok was apparently shaking like a leaf while you remained calm and collected. You told them that Eunseok wanted to show you his new drone and they laughed. They laughed at the both of you, because Eunseok was inviting a pretty girl over to play with his new toy and they laughed at you because you accepted it. Giselle remained steadfast in her belief that you were going over there just to play with his drone. Yunjin told you that he wasn’t going to make a move. You excused yourself from dinner quickly, saying you were full before they could get another word in. 

Eunseok was already home by the time you made it to his apartment. You had to take a detour to your place, then a detour to the side of his building to give yourself an impromptu pep talk. There was something riding on you meeting this time after two weeks of radio silence. Things felt less at stake when Eunseok didn’t know or pretended to not know what you wanted from him. Now that you were knocking on his door after sex and two weeks of pretending like the sex didn’t happen you were nervous. 

Usually you had to wait outside his door. He always acted like you were going to recant your invitation, and you had to wait for a break in his games for him to come to you. This time when you knocked on the door you heard things moving, and his rushed steps on the other side. He opened the door a crack and then all the way, presenting his apartment to you like you hadn’t seen it before.  

“You came quick.” Eunseok says.

“I really wanted to see your drone.” You reply.

It’s hard to sound enthusiastic. You’ve been overthinking since the dining hall and you’re not entirely sure the drone even exists. You’re just looking at Eunseok looking at you, nodding before he moves out of the way to let you into the apartment.

When he lets you inside, the first thing you notice is the couch. The first piece of non-bed and non-loveseat furniture takes up space in the living room and the television sits on an actual stand instead of the floor. There’s a coffee table too, another place people can eat food on besides standing at the counter in the kitchen or his gaming desk. 

“It’s like a real person lives here now, Seok.” You say when he closes the door behind you.

Eunseok takes the teasing with a distracted laugh. He’s almost fidgety navigating his space, walking around in bee lines instead of his usual straight path. He walks around you, then the couch, then the coffee table, then his kitchen before he makes it to the counter. You watched his nervous path, all the way until he made it to his drone. 

He looked at his newest toy before looking to you, his fingers tapping on the table. He wanted you to say something, you’re sure of it. The drone is cool, and you can tell Eunseok thinks it’s cool too by the way he set it up on his kitchen counter so it’d be the first thing you’d see. He made sure to turn it so the front was facing you, and the complex remote was right next to it. Like he was trying to tempt you to reach forward and grab the remote without asking.

“You actually got a drone.” You say.

Eunseok nods before reaching for the remote. He’s pushing on knobs and levers, and almost instantly the drone starts hovering above the kitchen counter. You back up by instinct but Eunseok starts smiling, so boyish and happy as he commands his newest toy around. He flies it around the small space of his kitchen, above and over him so he can turn around and follow it. 

The two of you watch in silence and let the whirring of the fans fill the room. Eunseok is already an expert, flying it around the living room and avoiding the fan. He flies it around your tense body and over the couch. He follows it and you watch him, and he turns back to you to show you all of his tricks. He makes the drone flip and fly upside down, then he makes it move side to side quickly. He narrowly misses his new curtains and the corner of the television, but the drone is still in one piece when he makes it land perfectly in the middle of the coffee table. He sits down on the couch the same time the drone lands.

When he’s down he looks over the top of the couch to you, eyes bright with that smile still across his face. You smile with him, you can’t help it as you circle the couch to sit on the other end. 

“That was cool.” Eunseok smiles even more, nodding his head proudly. “Why’d you get it?” You ask.

You try to sound as nonjudgemental as possible. You didn’t think of Eunseok to be a big spender, outside of the skins for the games he’s talked your ear off about and the manga collection lining his shelves. Outside of that, Eunseok is frugal. He buys things he needs, rarely thinking about what he wants. Sitting on a couch with space for more than one personal is already abnormal, and looking at his television rest on a TV stand rather than the floor is weird to. You also believe he doesn’t go outside nearly enough to get a drone. You think this is similar to an indoor cat getting a harness, or a man who values his life getting a motorcycle.

He shrugs his shoulders. He looks at the drone and then his remote.

“Just wanted it.” Eunseok messes with the controller a little more, gripping it in his hands before he offers it to you. “Wanna try?” He asks. 

Eunseok has never been greedy of his belongings, he was never the type to hate sharing. But he’s never had to consider it. He’s lived alone his entire adult life, and even as a child he never had to share. Even when he offered you the remote it was awkward, half placing it in your lap before you even considered taking it.

“I don’t know how to fly a drone.” You say.

That got him excited. He’s scooting to your end of the couch quickly, he’s already ushering the remote into your hands. You take it and Eunseok’s thigh is touching yours, his hand is ghosting over yours as he points to a dial.

“Just push that.” Eunseok gets a little closer, his other hand comes close to actually touching yours. But he keeps a distance, pointing to the other side of the remote to a switch. “Press that at the same time.” He instructs.

This reminds you of something. You’re timid pressing both of the switches at the same time, afraid of doing something wrong. The fear of breaking Eunseok’s newest toy almost makes you want to hand the remote back to him, but he’s urging you to do it and arguably looks more excited for you to use his toy than he was. Even when the drone wobbles on the hover he’s smiling. He follows the drone up, and points at another lever below your finger. 

“Press that to make it move side to side.”

You do as your told, and both you and Eunseok watch the shaky drone follow your movements. Left and right, a little diagonal when you accidentally take your finger off of the switch. Eunseok leans more into the couch as you get used to it, and his hand that was ghosting over yours goes to rest on the back of the couch behind your body. He gets a little closer to you and he pulls his leg into his lap. 

You try to focus on the drone as you feel Eunseok start to caress your shoulder. His hand was hesitant at first, a clenched fist resting on the back of the couch before he finally spread out his palm and let his first finger touch you. He makes it hard for you to focus flying this thing when he fully clasps over your shoulder, rubbing it gently. He also makes it hard to focus because he pretends he’s not touching you, even when you can feel the sweat on his palm. Eunseok points at the drone with his other hand when it starts to get a little too shaky, then to the remote clutched in your hands.

“You have to press both of them at the same time.” He says.

You follow his instructions, until his drone comes closer and closer to the coffee table. The dismount is rough, you clench your teeth at terrible thought of breaking Eunseok’s precious drone. He doesn’t react the same. He continues holding your shoulder even when the controller for the drone rests awkwardly on your lap. 

“Eunseok, I really like your drone. I really do think it’s cool but—”

“I want you to stay.” He says quickly.

“You want me to stay?” You ask.

There’s only been two times Eunseok has directly expressed that he wants you to continue invading his space. The first was right before he came in your mouth two weeks ago, and the second was now. He’s just desperate enough when he says it, his hands still holding your shoulder and the other moves to grab the remote from your lap. The words slipped out before he could figure out how to calmly say it, if he was going to say it at all. 

“Why do you want me to stay?” 

You watch Eunseok try so hard to keep eye contact with you. The way his flat hair is tucked underneath his glasses is cute. He’s due for a haircut too, because it’s getting to the length where it stats covering his eyes and he starts making subtle complaints about it.

“Because I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“You see me nearly everyday.” You push your luck further, trying to see how far you can get Eunseok to go. He already told you he wants you here, he’s already told you he missed you. You let your hand travel to his thigh, right where his basketball shorts rode up to reveal his skin. He’s warm already, he even freezes underneath your touch. “But I’m here. Right now.” You look at Eunseok, and see the rosy tint already appearing on his cheeks. You start tracing the beginning of a pattern, and you look at the crown of his head to see strands of hair sticking up. ”Seok.”

“Take your shirt off.”

He spoke fast. His order fell from his lips and stayed in the air, the two of you eyeing eachother trying to figure out if what you heard was real. Eunseok’s eyes are wide, yours are still blinking as you try to process what’s happening. Not only did he approach you in the dining hall he never eats at, and share things with you he’s never shared with you before, but now he’s telling you what to do when he’s always let you do things to him. Everything from today leaves your hand frozen on his leg and your lips parted. 

You can tell Eunseok shocked himself. The blush on his neck gives him away, and the fact that he’s holding your shoulder makes it seem like it’s for comfort more than anything else. He’s going to recant his order at any moment, or profusely apologize for reading this situation wrong. Before his lip can twitch you let your hands go to the bottom of your shirt too fast, pulling it over your head and then tossing it to the ground. Your shirt ends up crumbled next to the drone on the coffee table, and you settle back into the couch. Eunseok’s arm is still along the back of the couch, and his eyes are even wider. 

You’re sure you still match his frazzled expression. The same Eunseok that struggled to hold eye contact when you first met him is told you what to do. You put your hands on your knees and sit up straighter, doing everything except verbally telling him how ready you are to listen.

He’s slow getting up from the couch. He hesitates for a moment before standing in front of you. On his couch you tilt your head up until it’s uncomfortable, until you can him look down at you and push his glasses up with a timid hand. His body is so close to you. His baggy shirt frames the broadness of his shoulders, leaving everything else about him to the imagination. You’re in your bra and pants, looking up to him waiting for what’s next. 

He reaches his hand to you but you stay still. He lets his hand go to the tip of your head, gliding down until he touches your cheek. His hand moves to your arm then your back, pulling you closer and you lean into his touch fully. He’s holding your shoulders, your eyes almost start to cross from keeping them open for so long. You don’t want to miss a single thing. The way he pulls at you, the way his shirt moves in front of you, the way he parts his lips just to close them before he brings himself to say something.

“Get on your knees.” He whispers.

He’s still looking at you wide eyed like he can’t believe the orders are falling from his mouth. He stutters, but you don’t hesitate when you start sliding off the couch. When Eunseok slowly puts the remote control down on the coffee table you listen, melting fully off the couch to rest on your knees. You’re timid getting into place, the most jumpy you’ve ever been in Eunseok’s presence. 

He’s the same way he was in his gaming chair, nearly shaking as he settles in front of you. The scene is awkward. Eunseok doesn’t know what to do now that he’s lead you half naked to the ground, and you don’t want to do anything to scare him out of whatever mood he’s found himself in. From avoided looks in class to being ordered to your knees you’ve made it too far to ruin it now. You’re overexerting yourself to show Eunseok how good you’re being. Hands folded on top of your thighs, perfect posture, looking up at him with everything you got. The blush creeps to his cheeks as his glasses slide down his nose. You watch Eunseok’s hands wrap around the belt of his pants.

“Can I—”

You nod before he can even finish. You find yourself wanting him to not ask for a single thing. He lets out a silent exhale and starts undoing the perfect bow, the sound of the laces rubbing against eachother makes you shuffle on your knees. You let out an exhale when Eunseok lets go of the loose waistband, letting it pool at his feet. He wasn’t wearing underwear, the baggy shorts hid how he was really feeling about the situation. Your hands ball into fists and you try so hard to keep eye contact, but you can stop yourself from looking down at him.

The quick look up you can see Eunseok impatiently pushing his frames into place. He keeps his thumb underneath the rim and a hand slowly goes to his dick, shuffling forward to your kneeling body. His hand doesn’t leave his glasses until he brings them to your mouth, poking and pinching your sensitive lips.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” He says.

Your hands go to Eunseok’s thighs when he starts dragging his hand up and down his dick. He slows down you give him small nods, letting him know you hear him and you need to see it.

When he starts working his hand again, the sight is unreal. Seeing Eunseok give you a sneak peak of what he does in his time alone makes your mouth water. His hands were barely involved last time, nervously touching you only after you gave him explicit invitations to each time. Now he was skillfully jerking himself off, massaging his tip and letting precum glisten between his fingers.

“I keep thinking about you too.” You say.

Although it seems like you’re saying anything just to appease him, it’s the truth. Like you’re playing the worst game of poker ever, you don’t try to hide anything. You can’t decide if you’ll focus on his hand touching himself or his eyes staring down at you, so you do both. The desperation is palpable, the way you keep fixing your gaze is obvious. You remember how his glasses blurred your vision last time you were in this position with him, and he starts working his hand a little faster at the sound of your voice. 

“You’re so pretty.” Eunseok’s head tilts back when he squeezes himself tighter and you want to cry from the loss of eye contact. He starts fucking his hand and you shuffle forward and touch him so he’ll look down at you again.

“You’re so hot.” His hand still plays with your mouth, two fingers working past your lips to press down hard on your tongue and bottom row of teeth. The intrusion makes saliva collect in your mouth and your jaw parts, making your words sound even more pathetic as they’re slightly gargled. “You don’t even know.” You say.

“You keep telling me that.” He groans quietly.

Eunseok looks down at you again and he presses harder. Your mouth is open the perfect amount, and he stops touching himself to hold his dick steady at the base. Before you can shuffle forward again he taps your lips with his leaking tip. You can feel the slick precum already beginning to chill on your bottom lip. When you stick your tongue out Eunseok taps his tip there too, groaning at the feeling of your warm tongue flat against him. You’re shocked that this was the same Eunseok nervous to even let you touch him. He’s fucked out just from the motions, and he gets so lost the quick taps turn into prominent spaced out slaps. The sound of his heavy dick hitting your tongue makes you dig your nails into his thigh.

“Open up, baby.” His voice is bothered and he’s impatient, pressing your jaw even further apart down until your lips stretch. “Open up for me, please.” He says quietly.

You let his prying fingers open you up until he can slid  into your mouth. Instantly he’s heavy on your tongue, and you can taste him. When you look up Eunseok’s head is tilted back, and he lets out a sigh so wrecked you’re reminded of the last time you were in this position. His hand palms your shoulder, using that as a slow guide to get you to take more of him. His head lulls every direction, and he shivers each time your tongue laves a new area.

“You’re so good at this.” He compliments.

Eunseok starts bringing his own hips forward to fuck your mouth and you hum that you know. Your words aren’t picked up, only the vibration and Eunseok moaning again fills the room.

Even when Eunseok’s hand stopped guiding your shoulders, you continued the movements. Buried in his lap, stretching your lips and jaw as you bobbed your head up and down. Each time you made a gagging sound Eunseok would moan, and his hand eventually went back to your shoulder to grip it with all his might. The pain only motivated you, and the way he was pulsing and getting harder in your mouth told you he was close. His weak whimpers above you were warning signs you were blowing straight past. 

Right when Eunseok’s sounds started getting louder, he pulled you off of him. His dick bobbed in front of your face, and you quickly wiped your watery eyes to get a good look at him. Eunseok was flushed red, and bending down to be eye level with you in an instant.

You could tell something changed when Eunseok started kissing you the second time. Maybe you were still reeling from your overworked gag reflex and the taste of him on your tongue, but it was different. The way he found a slow rhythm it made you think he was doing it on purpose to trip you up. The pace he set was completely opposite of his hands that guided your shoulders. You were the one trying to catch up, not sure if you were going too fast or too slow.

When Eunseok was dragging his tongue over your top row of teeth wasn’t from inexperience, but to get you to open your mouth a little wider. He was kissing just to feel you heave impatient huffs of hot air into his mouth. When you tried turning your head to figure it out his gentle hands kept you in place, making you feel what he was doing to you. Your clutched at the bottom of his shirt hopelessly, fighting back a pitiful sound when he ran his tongue over your lips. 

When Eunseok pulled back and you felt his spit cool on your face, he didn’t apologize or say that he was bad at kissing. He smirked at your glistening face and your mixed drool over lining your lips. He pulled your face back and tilted it up with fingers underneath your chin, smirking at his handiwork. The sheen caught the light and he brought you back in again, just to press his tongue against yours and watch the string of spit connect your open mouths. You didn’t know what to do. You were gormless, glazed over in the eyes as you let your face continue to be tilted by Eunseok. You didn’t even swipe your tongue over your lips to break the string. You kept your eyes on him, suddenly finding yourself waiting for what was next. 

“Did I do something wrong last time you were here?” Eunseok asks.

His eyes are still on your lips, now dry and missing where they were seconds ago. You only think to talk when he looks into your eyes. You shake your head in his hand, eyebrows knitting together to show that you’re sincere.

“I had so much fun.” You say. 

Eunseok stays on your lips, running his thumb over the bottom. He mindlessly plays with your face and mouth, touching you as he brings his eyes up to yours.

“You haven’t bothered me during class in awhile.” He says.

You want to deny it, but it’s the truth. You grip his shirt tighter, trying to figure out why you put off feeling like this for so long. 

“I thought I came on too strong.” You grip Eunseok’s shirt and your back hits the couch. You’re still on the floor and you’re still on your knees. You embarrassingly still need more. “Thought I might’ve scared you away.”

Eunseok kissed you again, deep with his hand holding you steady. When he pulled away you’re eyes were still closed in bliss, opening up again to see his eyes blown out. You were just as wrecked as him, you could see it reflected in his lenses. He was able to see you clearly, the bleary look in your eye and how much of a mess you already were. 

His hands go to the pocket of his basketball shorts, pulling out a condom in the pack you left last time. You watch him tear it with his fingers before his hands are back on you, until you were turned to face the couch. He continued handling you until your legs were spread and your top half was resting on top of the couch. He even fixed your arms until the were laying on top of the cushion, laying the foil wrapper right next to you.

You wait to feel Eunseok’s warmth as he shuffles behind you to slot his body between your legs. You wait for what feels like an eternity, suddenly too nervous to look over your shoulder and see it for yourself. Before you can whine about anything, you feel the tickle of hair on your back and then a wet kiss on your waist.

Instantly you freeze. You can feel Eunseok’s lips travel further down, and a hand on your lower back keeps you from turning to face him.

“Just stay like that.” Eunseok murmurs behind you.

When he kisses the curve of your ass you felt yourself meld into the couch. Your head is resting on the cushion, you swear you can hear your heartbeat when you press your ear into the sofa. Not knowing what’s happening behind you reminds you of the way you had Eunseok two weeks ago. You’re now in his shoes, still reeling from the dried spit on your face while he travels further down.

“Wait.” Your hand is in a panic behind you in seconds, but Eunseok can’t be phased. He grabs your hand and presses it to your lower back, his other hand grabbing your ass. He spreads you out and you whine because you’ve never been like this before, you would’ve never thought Eunseok would have you like this. There’s another wet kiss on your ass and you try to duck away. “Eunseok.” 

His tongue is against your ass, then he works down lower. You’re pressing your face deeper into the couch cushion, scraping against the fabric to try and work through the feeling. It’s wet, he’s messy, he’s loud behind you. You can feel Eunseok’s tongue press into your heat timidly before he’s diving further in. His tongue prods into you, shallow laps that have you instinctually twitching away from his face. Your hand that’s still pinned to your lower back  clenches and spreads out. You try not to make any noise. Like Eunseok’s got your tongue you’re just open mouthed with your eyes screwed shut. There’s no way he has you like this. There’s no way he’s spreading you further, there’s no way you can feel his finger push past into you.

“Feels good, right?” Your entire face is hot. Sweat is lining every part of you and there’s something touching your face to cause the worst kind of discomfort, but you can’t move from the spot he has you in. “You’re so tight.” He pushes your body forward when you jolt from another finger being added. “And wet.” Eunseok adds.

You don’t dare to look behind you. You can hear him situate himself behind you, sitting down and working his fingers inside of you while the other keeps you spread. Any attempt to move your hips away he follows. He doesn’t order you around anymore, accommodating to your swaying hips and your heaving pants against his new couch. You’re sure you’re drooling on his cushions, and you’re making a mess on his fingers. He keeps driving his fingers inside of you, until you’re shaking your head and reaching another panicked head backwards.

“Eunseok I think.” An effort to lift your body off the couch is thwarted when Eunseok’s hand leaves your ass to touch your clit. You’re pressed against the couch again, mouth agape. “I’m close.” You say.

For a moment Eunseok pauses. Just before you rapidly decline from the peak he goes back to the pace he set, constant and grueling and stimulating that drool starts slipping down your chin.

“Really?” He sounds amazed, like everything about what he was doing to you wasn’t calculated. Like he’s just playing with another toy, surprised that you are feeling any sort of pleasure. You nod immediately, and thee quickest look back you can see Eunseok let his glasses slide down lower. They’re foggy, because it’s a million degrees in this room and they’re focused on the part of your body where you’re bent and rocking back on him in the slightest way. Like you’re an experiment he takes you all in. “You’re close?”

If he wasn’t so curious you would’ve thought he was mocking you. But Eunseok is paying attention to everything, recalling what he was doing earlier that made you react to him. You selfishly don’t have it in you to pull him along, tossing compliments over your shoulder to let him know he’s doing the right thing. You’re too distracted, instead focused on crying out when he starts scissoring his fingers and closing your legs in on itself when he starts rubbing your clit the right way.

Eunseok doesn’t even notice that you came. He vocalizes something about how you’re squeezing his fingers, then commenting on how you’re so wet. Then he’s bumping into his coffee table. You’re still weak but he can’t be bothered as he pulls out to wrap an arm around your hip, rearranging you to his liking. You can barely move to follow him, trying to alleviate some of your weight while being moved into place. Eunseok is satisfied quickly with your head resting on the armrest and your hands gripping it for support. You hear him stumble to situate a leg on the coffee table, and he’s back to touching you again.

Eunseok is repeating curses behind you again and again, and you’re trying hard to keep that same form. You have to fight to keep your knee slipping out from underneath you from each thrust. You’re on the brink of overstimulation and Eunseok is trailing close behind you, panting and pressing his sweaty chest to your back. 

“Did you cum?” He asks with the same doubt the first time, and it makes you clench around him again. His shaky fingers loosen the grip on your hip to go to your clit, and just the feeling of him pressing deep makes your entire body twitch. “Did you cum?” 

He repeats the question, and you know it’s because he wants to make sure you’ve finished. But paired with his fingers working through your cries it seems like a threat, almost like a punishment. You lift your head from the armrest, tears staining your cheeks.

When you repeat to him over and over again that you came, and you’re going to cum again, he looks at you like he can’t believe it. His harsh pace with his hips even falter, but you’ve come too far to let anything stop. Now it’s you driving your hips back, working through the burn, the overstimulation, everything to chase after it. Eunseok’s shocked face pulls to ecstasy, and then he’s pulling at your shoulders until your back is pressed to his front. You’re gripping the back of the couch as Eunseok keeps your face turned to meet his lips. Shaky and deep kisses, where he’s just trying to feel the inside of your mouth and you’re trying to focus on getting him to finish. 

Eunseok is the first to pull away to press his head into your shoulder, grunting into your skin as he ruts his hips against yours. You can feel the rim of his glasses press into your skin, and you can feel his hands hastily reach down to grab yours. He’s slipping his fingers between the gaps in yours and holds you tight, rutting into you it punches every breath from your lungs. By the time Eunseok twitches and slumps against you, you’re gasping to catch your breath. He matches your exhaustion, gasping quietly and panting against your back.

His hand is sluggish leaving yours, you stay clutched against the back of the couch and gripping it for support when he pushes his glasses back up his face. You’re staring forward at his front door, trying to come to terms with the fact that you manifested whatever just happened. Yunjin and Giselle really aren’t going to believe you, if you can find the energy to leave his apartment. You feel like you’re stuck now, and you’re about to become an even worse thorn in your side. You pray he doesn’t mind, because he pulls out of you and ties the condom off before he’s lying down and guiding you to lay on top of him. He catches his breath when he wraps his arms around you, breathing deep and rubbing shapes on your skin. 

He’ll never be able to get rid of you after this, you’re sure of it. He holds you tight and you can’t even think of leaving, whatever obligations you had for the rest of the day are cast to the side.

“Seok.” 

You look up to see Eunseok already looking at you. His glasses are halfway down his nose, so far down he looks at you over the rim.

“Can I wear your glasses?”

[mind-intheclouds342]

The perfect one - Trans Curly x Reader

Warning: Smutty!

To you, he was the best man you could have ever met, tall, blonde, with blue eyes, his beard tickled you every time you kissed him, his hands were big and perfect for holding your face, kind, compassionate, and you could keep naming many other qualities of his.

After so many failed relationships, you felt that you had finally met the right person for you. 

Maybe the only bad thing you could say about him was his job, which meant he was away too much, but in the last few months you were dating, there wasn't a day when you didn't receive a call from him and he would tell you how everything was going.

While you were waiting at the mall for their arrival to meet, someone had approached you. 

He looked familiar when you gave him a glance, until you realized he was a friend of Curly's, whom you had only seen in photographs. 

Jimmy: "Aren't you (Y/n)? Curly's girlfriend?"

"Um- yeah, it's me..." 

You nodded somewhat nervously at the man's sudden closeness. 

Jimmy: "Are you gay?"

"Excuse me?"

That question had caught you completely off guard. 

Jimmy: "Sure you are, otherwise you wouldn't be with Curly, right?" 

"I don't understand what you're talking about."

Jimmy: "You know, because he is a woman."

"Eh?"

Every word that came out of his mouth only made you feel more and more confused. 

Jimmy: "Didn't you know? He may look like a man and all, but he doesn't have what really makes a man."

"You know- I don't feel comfortable talking about this with you. I will kindly ask you to leave me alone and go away."

Jimmy: "Ugh, I'm just telling you the truth, you don't have to react that way."

He rolled his eyes. 

Jimmy: "You should be with a real man, I'm available if you're interested in that."

"No thanks, I would prefer to eat cockroaches."

You made an unpleasant grimace at that idea, but the thought of being much closer to that person for a longer time seemed even more disgusting to you. 

After rejecting him in a thousand different ways and having him insult you for rejecting him, he got tired enough to leave you alone. 

"What kind of friends does Curly have?"

You wondered, looking at the time on your phone, hoping he would arrive soon. 

And when you looked up from the screen, all you could see were yellow tulips in front of you. 

Curly: "Have you been waiting a long time for me?"

You melted at the sight of that beautiful smile he has, and the gesture of the flowers in a pot won your heart once again. 

"No, not at all, I arrived just a few minutes early."

You responded by greeting your boyfriend with a kiss on the lips, happy to see him again. 

Curly: "Great, shall we go to that new café you wanted to go to?"

"Of course~"

You clung to his arm and, attached to him, walked together until you reached that place.

You took a seat, leaving the flowers aside, and after glancing at the menu, you decided to place  your orders. 

Curly: "And? Have you thought about my proposal?"

"To go live with you?" You smiled, playing with the paper napkin on the table. "I don't know..." It's still a bit early~ we've only been dating for half a year"

Curly: "Mmm, but we've known each other for two years." 

"But it seems like you haven't told me everything~" 

Immediately, his calm demeanor changed to a more nervous one. 

Curly: "Hehehehe, what are you talking about?"

"I had the strangest conversation with your friend Jimmy, you told me he was a good guy, but damn, he's an idiot!" 

Curly: "Oh- um- and what did he say?"

"He started calling you less of a man and those things, he even called you a woman, I thought it was a bit exaggerated."

Curly: "Well... About that..."

"...Why would you hide something like this from me??"

Curly: "I didn't know how you were going to react... I like you a lot and I don't want to lose you..."

"Fool, it's not worth hiding those things, sooner or later they come to light, and it's better to say them beforehand." 

Both sighed and rested their heads in their hands. 

Curly: "You're going to leave me, aren't you? It's okay if you do it..."

"What?"

Curly: "At this point, this is where everyone leaves... For women, I was never a 'real man,' and for those who like women, I was never quite a woman, so... no one was satisfied with me after finding out that I am trans. " 

"I'm angry because you didn't tell me earlier. Not because you were born a woman"

Curly: "...Are you not going to leave me?"

"How could I leave the best man in the world?"

When he saw your smile and heard what you said, he couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and joy. 

At that moment, your drinks were brought to you, and you continued your conversation as if nothing had happened, talking about your jobs and friends, catching up after not having seen each other for a while.

You had decided to go to his house, you wanted to stay for dinner and sleep with him. 

"Was that you??" 

You said, surprised, looking at some photos from when he was a teenager, before testosterone. 

The two sitting on the couch in their living room. 

Curly: "Yeah... They always told me I looked very masculine, so I tried to look as feminine as possible so they wouldn't talk weird about me, but I think I just looked dumber." 

"You were so beautiful! You have always been handsome your whole life, it's unfair!"

You buried your face in his chest and hit him a couple of times softly, until you stopped and looked at him. 

Curly: "There's nothing left" he laughed lightly as if he could read what you were thinking. 

"Can I see?"

He blushed a little at your proposal, but he was quick to please you and take off his shirt. 

You attentively observed his scars, carefully touching them with the tips of your fingers. 

"I love them" 

Curly: "And i love yours," he smiled, seeing how focused you were on his chest. 

He became somewhat curious when you started looking at his face and chest repeatedly; he suspected you were up to something and confirmed it when you bit his chest out of nowhere. 

That was the greatest show of affection you could give him. 

"By the way! You need to work on your friendships. "

You told him when you stopped biting him, he was lying on the couch breathing heavily from how you had attacked him, his entire chest and neck marked with small bites and hickeys.

Curly: "Can we talk about that later?"

He said with a sigh and his cheeks red. 

"Of course" 

You smiled to climb on top of him and kiss his lips. 

You felt his hands resting on your thighs and then slowly sliding down to your butt to squeeze it. 

You let out a small sigh between your lips, causing him to pull away from you. 

Curly: "Are you sure about this?"

"More than sure" 

You confirmed it and let out a squeal when he grabbed you to carry you, getting up from the couch ready to take you to his room. 

When he laid you down on the bed, he immediately began kissing your neck and slipped his hands inside your shirt, trying to unfasten your bra. 

You felt his hands glide over your body to take off your shirt, momentarily parting from your neck to get rid of it and then placing a kiss back on your lips. 

He gave you a smile before turning to your breasts to start kissing them first, then licking them, and finally dedicating all his attention to your nipples, one in his mouth and the other being massaged by his left hand. 

He sucked, pressed with his lips, and moved his tongue in circles over one, while with the other he gently pulled and twisted, making them hard, causing you to arch your back while letting out small moans. 

Curly: "You sound so lovely..." 

"I didn't know you could be so eager..." 

You laughed a little until you saw him run his tongue between your breasts and then down to your stomach, leaving a kiss on it before he started to take off your pants.

"Hey! I'm not a rag doll!" 

You shook your legs to prevent him from completely removing the lower part of your clothes, it didn't bother you at all but you felt a bit lazy letting him do everything. 

You finished taking off your pants by yourself, left only in your underwear, sat on his bed, and smiled. 

"You have more clothes than I do."

Curly: "And if we leave that for another day? It doesn't bother me at all to please you today."

"Pants down"

You said it almost like an order, crossing your arms.

He sighed to start unbuttoning his pants, and as he lowered them, you saw that he was wearing boxers, but what caught your attention the most was the hair peeking out from the lower part of his stomach. 

"...Jungle?"

Curly: "Don't say it like that!"

"I see that the curtains match the rugs. "

Curly: "Don't keep on with that"

You let out a giggle and pushed him, making him fall back onto the bed. You rested your cheek on his thigh, playing with the edge of his boxers between your fingers, then slowly pulling them down to his knees. 

"Oh wow-" 

You just said that and Curly was already covering his face with his arms. 

You had never seen an erect clit in your life, but you didn't mind it at all, not to mention the amount of hair covering that area. 

You couldn't help but lean in and soon take it into your mouth to suck it, surprised when he suddenly lifted his hips and his legs trembled, perhaps you hadn't considered the sensitivity of that part. 

When you tried to pull away, his hands went to your head, pushing you against his pussy. 

Curly: "No, no, no, please don't stop"

And those words were enough for you to continue with the pleasure of that man, too immersed in his moans, not wanting to stop and even exploring a bit more by inserting two of your fingers inside him, giving him goosebumps. 

Curly: "Yesss, keep going like that- a little more- a little more and-!"

You could only drown your moan in his intimacy when his legs pushed you even more against him at the moment he reached his orgasm. 

Little by little, his trembling legs slid down your back, leaving you free, finally lifting your head with your cheeks red and your face all wet.. 

"Bleh"

You stuck out your tongue to get a hair off it, and both of you ended up looking at each other and then laughing for the same reason. 

Curly: "I think I got carried away-"

"Do you think so?" 

You murmured to lean over him and kiss his lips.

Curly: "Eew, you are soaked."

"Now you deal with it" 

They laughed as you planted kisses all over their face. 

Curly: "If you want to soak my face, do it like this"

He took your sides and pulled you up until your stomach was against his face, he started kissing you, tickling you, and making you sit on his chest.

"Hehehe what are you- oh my God-"

You let out a moan when he took your sides and ended up dragging you to his face, moving your panties aside with his teeth and inserting his tongue in an instant. 

You were definitely going to seriously consider moving in with him. 

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

hiii can i request chishiya getting jealous when he sees the reader talking to niragi and pulls her away into his room and fucks her dumb thank youu 💕

Mine All Mine

requested?: yes pairing(s): shuntarō chishiya x afab!reader, platonic!niragi x platonic!reader (mentioned) genre: smut warning(s): kind of possessive(?) chishiya, set in the borderlands, mentions of breeding, degredation, hair pulling, spanking, pussy spanking, orgasm denial, oral (f&m recieving), fingering, squirting, really rough sex (rlly good aftercare tho), reader is like a little masochist omfg, mentions of crying, honestly js really mean and rough chishiya tbf summary: 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘪𝘳��𝘨𝘪, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘺𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 word count: 3.7k (i made it good since its been so long) a/n: hi guys, i am so so so very sorry that i have been MIA for a little while, i came back from my holiday not long ahgo (it was very good) and i have just been struggling a lot to write this bc i had a lot of ideas but js didnt know how to put anything into words. i managed to finish twisted lies tho! and king of wrath, king of pride and king of greed! so requests are officially open for the twisted men. remember to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah! (p.s. i may also open requests for the king of sin men once i have read king of sloth) -Cilla

you and niragi had kind of been some-what friends before the borderlands. so when you finally made it to ‘the beach’ he was practically the only one you knew. obviously, niragi was a bit crazy, but he wasn’t around you.

after one specific game, you had managed to befriend/meet a man with longish blonde hair, swimming trunks and a hoodie that was always zipped until it met his mid-chest. chishiya.

not long later, you were practically in a relationship with chishiya. it had started off with a mutual agreement, you would be friends with benefits. it started off with harmless sex. stressed after a game? chishiya was right there to eat you out and get rid of said stress. and that’s when it hit you. you had fallen in love with the blonde man.

so, given, when you were tired and in bed while chishiya was getting dressed and ready to leave your room, you whispered a small ‘i love you’ which didn’t go unnoticed, and led to another round of (softer) sex where afterwards chishiya told you he loved you too.

even though you and chishiya were sort of together, you still talked to niragi quite frequently. this angered chishiya, but he didn’t want to be seen as the over-bearing boyfriend, so he let it go. but you were beginning to laugh with niragi a lot more. kuina would sit next to him and tell him that everything is fine and he probably just told you a joke, but chishiya knew that laugh. it was his laugh.

it was the laugh you did when chishiya brought something back from a game for you, like a little souvenir, it was the laugh you did when chishiya told you a joke to prevent you from panicking at the start of a game, it was the laugh you did when chishiya ran his knuckles over your sides to help you sleep after sex, and it tickled a little too much. it was his laugh.

so granted, chishiya got you more gifts because he was scared you would leave him, he told you more jokes so it would give him a sense of pride that you were his and you always would be, and he fucked you senseless and raw every night for a sweet, sweet reminder that you were his and only his.

but today, you had laughed just a little too long at one of niragi’s jokes, and it had been happening for a little too long, that chishiya snapped. he made his way over to you, grabbed your arm and tugged you along with him. despite your protests.

he tugged you to your room and closed the door behind you, pushing you into the room. he instantly attached his lips to yours in a fiery kiss, and you tried to kiss back, but chishiya was hungry. he was kissing you like a man starved from love. his tongue ran across your bottom lip, and chishiya’s knee pushed in between your leg and rubbed, making you gasp against his lips. chishiya took this as his opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

your tongues slid against eachother in the best way possible. you didn’t realise you both had moved until the backs of your legs hit the end on the bed, making you break the kiss and fall backwards onto it.

chishiya wasted no time in grabbing your bikini bottoms and ripping them down, shredding the fabric as he did so. he then clambered on top of you and ripped your bikini top off aswell, throwing it god knows where in the messy room you were staying in.

he smirked down at you, before attaching his lips to your neck and sucking a few small bites before moving down your collarbone, to stomach and them down to your aching core. chishiya looked up at you before diving straight into your sopping pussy, feeding on your small bud like a man starved.

his tongue lapped at your folds before licking a stripe upwards to your clit and giving it a harsh suck. he gave it a couple more sucks before he slides his middle finger into your sopping cunt, curling them to hit your g-spot. he thrusted one finger into you a few times at the same time as sucking your clit, before sliding another finger into you, stretching you out.

you moan out and arch your back as you feel your high beginning to approach.

“shiya- gonna come” you whimper out, but as soon as you did, chishiya stopped all of his actions, the feeling of your upcoming orgasm simmering away. you quickly regain yourself and sit up, chishiya pushes you back down. “what was that for?” you grumble.

“bad girls get punished” he said lowly before delving back into your pussy again, retreating his fingers back into the spot they were inside your cunt.

his fingers curl inside of you, aswell as his mouth harshly sucking on your clit again. soon, he takes his mouth off of your clit and decides to just go solo with his fingers, curling them and pumping them inside of your sopping hole, you moaned out frantically, pleas leaving your mouth as he abused your hole, adding another finger.

chishiya then brought his thumb to your clit, pumping his fingers in and out of you aswell as circling and pressing on your clit. you began to feel your high approaching you again, and tried to grind against chishiya’s hand to gain more friction to get yourself to the edge faster. but chishiya, being as observant as he is, sensed your oncoming orgasm and withdrew his hand, destroying your second orgasm.

you huffed as chishiya looked up at me.

“why won’t you let me come?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows, looking down at chishiya who was still in-between your legs.

“because you’ve been a bad girl, sweetheart” he says lowly, you gave him a confused expression, but he doesn’t answer and instead pushes your thighs ore open, placing them over his shoulders to gain more access to your aching pussy.

his tongue slides easily into your hole, after all, you were soaking. his nose hitting your over sensitized clit over and over again, making your hips buck into chishiya’s face. your hands gripped the sheets of the unmade bed beneath you, the other hand going to chishiya’s hair and tugging slightly, before pushing his face back into your pussy, forcing him to stay there as he fucked his tongue in and out of you, eliciting mewls and moans from your mouth.

as soon as it started, you felt your orgasm beginning to approach again, you tried to hold chishiya’s head where it was against your cunt, chishiya sensed you were close and tried to pull back, but it was too late. your orgasm crashed over you, seeing nothing but white as your juices squirted all over chishiya’s face. as you came back to your senses, you felt chishiya’s tongue lapping at your folds again. you tried to push his face away as you were overstimulated, but this time, chishiya was stronger and kept his face where it was.

soon, you fell into the pleasure again, another orgasm beginning to approach even faster than the last. but as your moans got louder and heightened in pitch, chishiya pulled back, leaving you bare.

he stood up, looking down at you laying on the bed as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand from your juices.

“such a naughty girl, coming without my permission” he tutted, “i guess i’m just going to have to punish you now, but you like that, don’t you? being treated like the little cumslut you are” he teased.

you didn’t have time to reply before chishiya grabbed you by your hips and flipped you over so you were bent over the bed. you didn’t realise chishiya had moved with you until you felt his hot breath against the shell of your ear.

“here’s what we’re going to do, sweetheart” he whispered lowly into your ear, you could feel his hardened cock pressing against your lower back, “you are going to count how many times i spank this pretty pussy of yours, and it you count correctly, i’ll give you a nice little surprise, yeah?”

“and what if i don’t?” you say softly, chishiya chuckled.

“then you’ll just have to see, won’t you?”

chishiya stood back up, looking down at you spread on the bed for him, before he grabbed your thighs and spread them. for a moment, you didn’t feel anything, until a harsh slap landed on your clit, making you mewl and move with the force of his slap. when you didn’t say a number, chishiya spanked your pussy again.

“what number was that?” he asked as your mewl turned into a moan.

“i- i can’t-“ you tried.

“what number was that” he asked, a lot more sternly, delivering another slap to your poor, over sensitized clit, you mewled out again, “c’mon baby, what number”

“three” you practically cry out as he lands another slap to your clit as an answer. “four” you mumble.

“good girl” he coos.

chishiya slaps your cunt three more times, you counted as he did so.

“good little slut, just a few more and i’m going to give you your reward, gonna fuck you so dumb that you’ll never be able to laugh with another man again” he whispers down into your ear, you only whimper in response. “poor baby, are you too fucked out?” you whimper a ‘no’ in response. “good” he says before standing back up again and landing another slap to your cunt.

chishiya slaps your clit another two times, you counted out loud, before he flips you over and smiles down at you.

“such a good girl for me, never lost count did you baby?” you only whimpered in response, not trusting yourself to form a sentence. chishiya chuckled and you heard ruffling from in-between your legs from where chishiya was standing. he had taken his swimming trunks off and was now stood fully naked, his cock hard and dripping with pre-cum.

you practically drooled at the sight, chishiya’s smile turned into a smirk as he watched your reaction to his now free cock.

“you gonna keep ogling me, or you got something i can help you with, sweetheart” he smirked down at you, you didn’t say anything but instead let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and changed your gaze to look back up into his eyes. he only raised a brow at you.

“please” you breathed out.

“please what? hm? please fuck you dumb like the little cockslut you are? c’mon, baby, say it” he practically cooed at you.

“yes” you said urgently, he stared at you expectantly. “please fuck me dumb like the little cockslut i am” you practically whimpered, he smiled in satisfaction.

“good slut. since you’ve been so good for me, i’ll give you what you want”

he didn’t give you much time to think before he was slamming his cock inside of you with so much force that the bed almost moved with you. you moaned out loudly as he did so, grasping at the sheets of the unmade bed and throwing your head back. chishiya chuckled from where he stood in-between your legs, his cock now fully sheafed snuggly inside of your walls.

you wrapped your legs around his torso, drawing him in impossibly closer than he already was. chishiya waited a few minutes for you to adjust to his size before you gave him the good-to-go, before he started moving. when he started off, his thrusts were brutally slow, you were practically begging and mewling for him to go faster.

chishiya only smirked down at you as you begged, you weren’t looking a him, but you could practically sense the smirk plastered on his face.

“you want me to go faster, hm, baby?” you could only nod in response as a certain movement of chishiya’s hips hit that oh-so sweet spot inside of you that made you throw your head back and see nothing but stars. chishiya only got slightly annoyed by your lack of response as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you to look at him. “when i ask you a question answer me with your words you pathetic little slut” he practically growled.

you were now sat up, your legs still wrapped around chishiya’s torso as his cock pressed into your sopping little hole.

“f-fuck please” you moan out. “please fuck me harder” you add as chishiya stares at you, his hips now stilled with his cock pressed into your walls.

“good slut” chishiya pulled your hair back roughly so you were looking up at the ceiling, tears pricked in your eyes.

chishiya then resumed his thrusts into your pussy, his pace still slow but his thrusts a lot more powerful and hard, hitting spots inside of you, you never knew anyone could ever reach, not anyone but chishiya. chishiya was the only man who could ever make you see stars the way you did.

the sound of your moans and chishiya’s occasional grunts bounced off the walls of the hotel room, the scent of sex filling the air. the obscene sounds of skin hitting skin and your squelching pussy taking chishiya’s cock so well.

“oh, you’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you? taking my cock so fucking well in that tight little cunt of yours” he groaned, you could only whimper in response, again, not trusting yourself to fully form a sentence.

chishiya thrusted his hips a few more times, each time hitting that gummy spot inside of you that made you feel on the brink of heaven, each stroke of his cock drawing you closer and closer to the edge. your moans began to get higher in pitch as you neared the end.

“shiya don’t stop- gonn-gonna come” you moan out, tightening your legs around chishiya’s waist to keep him there as the familiar knot formed in your stomach, threatening to snap at any given moment. you shoved your head into his chest, muffling your moans.

“m not gonna stop baby, not gonna stop. gonna come too yeah? breed this little pussy so everyone knows you’re fucking mine and to not make you laugh the way i do, especially not make you come all over my cock the way i do all the fucking time yeah?” you only nodded in response as the knot snapped In your stomach, causing white to cloud your vision and pleasure to wrack through every inch of your body.

your eyes roll back in your head as your head was thrown back, a cry leaving your lips as you clamped down on chishiya’s cock. chishiya came not long after you, a low groan leaving his mouth as he held his hand against your head which was now pressed against his chest.

chishiya didn’t give you much time to regain yourself as he pulled out and flipped you around on your stomach before sliding back into your dripping pussy, now full with his cum.

he placed his hands on your hips to hold you in place as he thrusted inside of you fast and hard your moans and whimpers only spurring him on as you gripped onto the bedsheets and shoved your face into them as an attempt to muffle your moans.

unfortunately enough, chishiya caught you in the act and tugged your head back as he kept pistoling his hips into yours.

“don’t cover up your pretty moans. want everyone to hear that you’re mine yeah?” chishiya leaned down to whisper in your ear, you nod, chishiya growls and tugs your head back further.

“y-yes” you cry out as another orgasm washes over you.

chishiya groans as he feels your walls clamp down on him as you come again, chishiya again not far behind.

you panted as you came down from your long lasting high, you felt like you couldn’t stop coming as chishiya spilled himself inside of you. after what felt like an eternity, you came down from your high to see chishiya just staring at you with those lust filled eyes you loved oh-so much.

“you’ve never done that before” he whispered, if he wasn’t so close, you would have not heard him, you could only whimper in response as at this point you were too fucked out to form a coherent sentence. “get on all fours. now” chishiya whispered into your ear.

it took you a few seconds to get up, but when you did, you were met with chishiya’s cock plunging straight back into you, as though it had been a while since the two of you had fucked, when in reality it had only been a few minutes or so. either way, you weren’t complaining.

after a few thrusts of his hips, you felt a hand land harshly on your ass, creating an oh-so delicious sting. you babbled out about how good it felt, but chishiya couldn’t workout a word you had said as they were all quite slurred together and too incoherent, but chishiya didn’t care what you said as he just landed another harsh spank on your now reddening ass.

soon, chishiya stopped his brutal attack on your ass as red handprints started to form, and instead reached his hand forwards to your front to draw circles on your slippery clit, he felt your juices leak from your poor abused hole as he did so, your pretty little pussy clenching around his fat cock as he did so.

“are you gonna laugh with him again?” you chishiya asked, delivering a slap to your pussy when you only replied with a whimper.

“laugh with who, shiya?” you moaned out as he started to circle your poor over sensitised clit, he only chuckled in response, leaning down to suck a hickey on your back.

“niragi, baby. you gonna laugh and flirt with him again?” you could only whimper out in confusion. flirting with niragi? what did he mean?

“flirting- fuck right there- shiya, i wasn’t flirting with hi- oh fuck” you moaned out the last couple of words as chishiya’s cock abused a spot inside of you that made you edge closer and closer to your edge with a brutal force.

“don’t lie to me” he cut himself off with a grunt. “i saw you laughing with him, the laugh you use with me and only me” his hips started to get faster and more brutal as his cock bruised your cervix.

you whimpered as you felt yourself nearing the edge.

“shiya, he’s a childhood friend, we were friends before the borderlands”

“and i can tell when a man is trying to get into a girl’s pants, sweetheart”

“nothing is going on with me and him- fuck” you cut yourself off as you came again, chishiya’s fingers still circling your clit, juices dripping from your hole and down your thighs to the bed. if you looked down, you could see the mess you had both (mostly you) had made.

chishiya groaned and came not long after you, fucking his cum into your hole as he helped you ride out both of your highs.

“such a good girl” he mumbled, pulling out of you and letting you lie down on the soft mattress.

chishiya pressed small open mouthed kisses all over your neck and shoulder to help sooth your pants as you came down from your third high of the night. chishiya took one look at your pussy, full and dripping with a mixture of your and his cum before slipping two fingers inside of you, making you whimper.

the sight of you now taking his fingers so well in your pussy made his cock perk up again, the glistening tip from both of your arousals reddening with need.

he flipped you over again and sat you up, removing his fingers from you as he did so. he sat on the edge of the bed as he moved you to kneel in front of him, in between his legs.

“you gonna clean up your mess now, my pretty little slut” with his words, you knew what to do and took him all in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat and making you gag, the action making chishiya groan out in pleasure.

he gathered your hair into a ponytail, shoving your mouth back onto his cock when you tried to move off him, making you gag again, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes, them spilling down your cheeks, but chishiya was too lost in pleasure to care about it, his head thrown back.

his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed a groan.

it didn’t take long before chishiya was spilling himself down your mouth, and you swallowed it all, moving your mouth from his cock.

chishiya slipped two of his fingers into your mouth when you had, smiling when he sees that you had swallowed every drop he gave you.

chishiya then picked you up and took you to he hotel bathroom, sitting you on the bathroom floor and grabbing a damp cloth before starting the bath. he wiped you as best as he could as the bath filled with water and bubbles he had put in. chishiya didn’t necessarily like bubble baths, but you did. and whatever you liked, chishiya did too.

soon, you were both settled in the bath, you in between chishiya’s legs, back pressed against his chest.

“you don’t have to worry about me and niragi, y’know, i don’t like him like that” you said with your eyes closed, but you turn to look at him with the next part you said. “he’s not my type, anyways.”

“yeah, and what’s your ‘type’ pretty?” he smiles down at you. you pretend to think before answering.

“blonde, slightly long hair, quite, brown eyes, student doctor, a little scary at times” you both laugh as you named the last thing. “but, seriously, shiya, i love you and nothing will ever change that” you said as you both sobered up.

“i love you too, pretty, more than you could ever know” he leaned down and captured your lips in a sweet kiss.

it was safe to say that the next morning, you were greeted with a smirking niragi.  

[eufezco]

HOW DID IT END?

How is it that Steve's departure only drove you further apart? How was it possible that the only thing left between you after all was hatred for each other? Maybe these questions could be answered in a therapy session or in a night together.

bucky x fem!reader (angst, smut with plot, lovers to enemies to lovers) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

—James, condition of your release, session now.

You looked at Bucky and he looked back at you, pressing his lips together and starting to walk after his therapist, annoyed.

—You too, young lady.

—That's okay, I can wait here with Sam.

—It wasn't a request. Sam, you have front-row seats for the show if you like—. The demanding tone in her voice surprised you and you had no choice but to follow her.

The therapist sat down at the table and opened her notebook. You and Bucky were at the other side of the table, sitting next to each other and in front of the woman. You didn't look at each other, you had not even shared a word. Sam, who was leaning against the wall behind the therapist, looked at both of you and shook his head. Steve was right when he said that you were both equally stubborn.

—So, who would like to start?

—I don't even know what I'm doing here. This is ridiculous.

—Yeah, I agree —. Bucky added.

—See? Making progress already —. She waited a few seconds to see if either of you would like to talk but you and Bucky remained silent. Dr. Raynor sighed, if it was already difficult to deal with him alone, it would be twice as difficult to deal not only with Bucky but also with a copy of him as a woman. —It is my job to make sure you're okay. And yeah, this may be slightly unprofessional but it's the only way that I can see if you're getting over whatever's eating at you.

You huffed a laugh and Bucky rolled his eyes. Whatever's eating at you? What could possibly be eating at you? There was nothing that-

—So, why don't you both start by telling me what kind of relationship you had with Steve Rogers?

Your expression changed completely when you heard his name. Bucky looked at you out of the corner of his eyes, Sam's eyes also went to you as he tensed his back when Dr. Raynow brought Steve up out of nowhere. Bucky decided to start talking but you couldn't hear what he was saying, you could only focus on how tense your jaw was, the knot in your stomach, and all the anger you were feeling.

Just as it was a relief for Bucky to think and talk about Steve, it hurt you. There was never anything romantic about your friendship with Steve, it was purely based on your devotion to him and your mutual admiration and respect.

When you lost Bucky and Steve crashed into the ice, you had no reason to live but before your heart stopped beating, Howard Stark found you and injected you with the serum. And when you woke up there was only Steve, seventy years later and just as confused as you, living in a century that did not belong to you.

You were together during the whole process of readjusting to your new lives. For Steve, you joined a group of people who called themselves the Avengers and fought against the god of mischief in New York. For Steve, you were almost killed by a robot in Sokovia. For Steve, you fought the Winter Soldier. For Steve, you sided against Tony Stark, the son of the man who brought you back to life, and for Steve, you fought, lost, fought again, and won against Thanos.

They say there is no worse heartbreak than that caused by a friend and Steve Rogers stole a piece of your heart when he left.

—Thank you, James. What can you tell us about Steve? —Dr. Raynor asked you.

You shook your head, your eyes fixed on one spot. The feeling of betrayal when Steve didn't return within the five seconds set by Bruce still haunted you. —I will never forgive him.

Bucky shook his head as well, he turned to look at you. —You know, Dr. Raynor? I've met her for more than seventy years now and one thing that hasn't changed about her is how selfish she is.

—James, we are not here to make value judgments about the feelings experienced by the other person.

The condescending tone in Bucky's voice made you close your eyes and take a deep breath before you talked. —You were captured by HYDRA, tried to kill us, then went into cryogenic sleep and disappeared with the snap. I don't expect you to understand what I'm going through since you never lost Steve because you never had him.

—He was my best friend! —Bucky raised his tone and turned in his chair to look at you.

—You don't even remember a single thing of him before he became Captain America!

Sam called your name. That wasn't Bucky's fault.

—He left because that was the life he fought so many years for! That's the life Steve deserved!

—He was my best friend too! We were together all these years while you were killing people and I had to watch him go! —You did the same as him. That was the first time you looked at each other since the session started and you were yelling at each other. Sam didn't miss any part of the argument, he was with his arms crossed and paying attention to everything you were saying to each other. How could two people who had loved each other so much end up like this?

—Okay, that's enough —. The doctor stopped you before it went any further. You and Bucky rested your backs on the chair again, defeated, and your eyes focused on the therapist. —Since this isn't working, we're going to do an exercise. It's something I use with couples when they're trying to figure out what kind of life they wanna built together —. The doctor added. Bucky rolled his eyes and you closed yours while shaking your head.

—You are acting as if you were never a couple —Sam said.

—Back in 1940.

—Yeah, eighty-two years ago.

You both said at the same time.

—Come on, turn around, look at each other.

Both of you hesitated for a few seconds but finally turned to face each other. His blue eyes were fixed on yours, it was difficult to keep eye contact with him.

—The exercise is called Everytime I look at you and consists of saying something that you feel or see in the other person every time you look at them. Why don't you start?

As you looked at Bucky, you could see the young soldier, wearing his new uniform proudly and hanging a copy of his dog tag around your neck. Looking into Bucky's eyes you felt again the last kiss he gave you before falling from the train, you heard his last laugh before he was brainwashed by HYDRA, you could even feel the caress of his fingers on your skin before the vibranium covered one of his hands.

—Every time I look at you, you have that lost puppy look on your face, asking for people's sympathy. I can't even look at you because every time I do, your mere presence reminds me that Steve's no longer here and it makes me want to fucking die, and sometimes I wish-

Sam called your name and you stopped talking before you could finish the sentence. Bucky's eyes never left yours. You were saying all that to his face.

—Let her finish, Sam —. Dr. Raynor said.

There was a silence.

—And sometimes I wish you were gone instead of him.

As Bucky looked at you, he could see the young lady he fell in love with even though everything he remembered about her was gone. The sparkle in that girl's eyes could no longer be found in yours, but he couldn't forget how your eyes shone as he wrapped his arms around your waist to dance. Bucky did not forget the sound of your laughter when he told you that he would marry you after the war, even though he was totally serious.

—Every time I look at you I don't recognize you. You have changed for the worse and I'm not sure if I like this version of you. You are mean, you don't allow people to get close to you and you hide and say that it's Steve's fault for leaving. But let me just say...

Bucky could see how you dealt with sadness by turning it into anger, he knew it because he did the same thing. Your jaw tightened and you closed your fists so hard that your fingernails dug into the palms of your hands. You didn't want him to say it, but at the same time, you couldn't wait to hear it.

—... that being a bitch isn't going to bring him back.

As soon as Bucky finished the sentence, you got up from the chair and left the room slamming the door. He didn't react to you leaving, he just sat in the chair asking himself the same question as Sam. How did you come to this? How could two people who had loved each other so much end up like this? Sam tried to go after you but he could not keep up with your super soldier speed so he went back to the police station with Bucky and gave him the same look of disappointment that Steve would have given him.

That same night someone knocked on your front door.

You thought it would be Sam because he had been calling you nonstop since you left and you had been ignoring him all day long but when you opened the door, you found Bucky instead.

He took a step closer to you to go inside your house and your hand connected firmly with his cheek. The skin on his face burned right where you had hit him and your body was blocking the doorway. He was just as angry as you were so he gave you a strong push on your shoulders. You managed to keep your balance and he managed to get inside the house and close the door behind him.

Bucky towered you with a challenging attitude, keeping eye contact while forcing you to take a few steps backward. You, despite being shorter than him, did not lower your head. Your breathing was heavy, the tension was too much, you wanted to hit him again and you wanted to say worse things to him than what you said in the therapy session.

When you raised your hand to slap him again, he grabbed your arm with his vibranium hand and squeezed hard enough for it to hurt but you did not give him the pleasure of expressing the pain. The tension was overwhelming. There were only two ways to solve this, either he would let go of your arm and start a fight that wouldn't end until both of you were on the floor exhausted and bleeding, or...

Your bodies collided as you pressed your lips together. Bucky held your face with both hands while his lips devoured yours as your hands pulled on the hem of his shirt. He lifted his arms so you could take it off and in that moment you took a few seconds to admire his well-defined abs. He leaned in for another kiss but you pushed him by his shoulder, strong enough for his back to hit against a wall of your house and crack it. Before he could complain, you connected your lips with his again.

Bucky's fingers closed around your neck as a response. Your mouth opened against his lips, trying to get the air that he was keeping from reaching your lungs and Bucky's tongue went pass your lips.

You took a big breath of air once he let go of your neck and he began to unbutton your jeans. He would never admit it but he made sure that you were okay and that he had not taken it too far, especially when your hands went to his shoulders to keep your balance due to the dizziness. And when Bucky thought he had control over you, your fingernails slid painfully from his shoulders to his abdomen and he groaned.

Bucky threw his head back against the wall once your finger sneaked into his jeans and wrapped around his cock. You moved your hand cruelly slow, he had his eyes closed as he bit his lower lip to hold back his moans. You ran your tongue along his collarbone until you reached his earlobe. —I fucking despise you —. You whispered in his ear. He let out a moan and immediately clenched his jaw again. You felt his hips thrust into your hand.

—Fucking same, doll —. Bucky muttered through gritted teeth.

He brought his hands to your ass and squeezed it as he helped you to wrap your legs around his body. Your lips met again as he walked you to the big wooden table in your living room where he helped you to lie down. Bucky pulled his jeans down enough to free his hard cock while you opened your legs to him. He noticed the wet spot on your panties and you noticed the red marks that your fingernails had carved on his chest. As he pulled your panties to the side, your fingers ran over those marks and Bucky hissed.

The head of his cock was more than enough to stretch you open. You repositioned yourself at the table, now sitting up on your elbows to watch as he pushed himself inside of you. You thought he would give you a few seconds to get used to the feeling, but he didn't stop until he was balls deep inside you.

—Now you take it. Make it up for that attitude —. You whined at his words and Bucky rested his forehead against yours while his hips thrusted into yours.

You encircled your legs around his waist and hooked your ankles over the swell of his ass while he kept slamming his hips into you. At that point you couldn't even think straight, he was hitting all the right spots to make your mind foggy. His pace remained fast and hard, and you thought about the serum running through your veins and how you both could keep up with that pace all night long.

Bucky tucked his head into your neck and whispered the filthiest words into your ear, his hands were on your thighs, squeezing your flesh lustfully, he pulled his dick all way out and then pushed in again until his balls were against your pussy. Your fingers tugged his brown hair at the root, getting moans from him because of your tight grip as it encouraged him to fuck you even harder. If that was how hating you felt, he wanted to hate you for all eternity.

When he heard you moaning and whimpering uncontrollably, when your legs fought to close and squeezed his body, when he felt your nails digging into the skin of his back, Bucky pushed your legs up, hooking your legs over his shoulders, and kept fucking you in that position until it became harder and harder for him to keep going because of the tightness of your pussy. You came screaming his name and spasming around him, Bucky came a few seconds later, with a deep groan that made his chest vibrate and emptying himself inside you.

The next morning, when his alarm went off, Bucky was alone in your bed. He took his time to take a shower and grab something from your kitchen for breakfast before he left. Bucky walked to his therapist's office, trying not to give much importance to what happened last night and especially trying not to think about all the horrible things you said to each other earlier that day in front of Sam and Dr. Raynor.

When he entered the office, Dr. Raynor was not alone. Bucky almost apologized and closed the door again, thinking he interrupted someone's session, but then you turned around in your chair and looked at him. He looked back at you, surprised, from the doorway.

You were already inside, now it was up to him to decide whether to go in with you. Bucky didn't have to think about it, he closed the door behind him and sat down in the chair next to you. You wanted to give yourselves a chance, for your sake, for Steve's sake, and for trying to get back what you two once had.

—Let's try again, shall we? —Dr. Raynor asked with a smile.

[starsinmylatte]

Be Our Girl?

If you saw Tumblr immediately flag this, no, you didn't.

This is the first request I received as part of my JJK Fic Readers Supporting Noury event. There are still slots open, so please click the link for more info!

Thank you to @enchantedsylveon for their support and the wonderful request 💜. I went way over the word count because I got possessed by the spirit of horny. Forgive me 😅

Pairing: Geto x Gojo x afab!reader (aka SatoSugu x afab!reader) Rating: Explicit (18+ minors DNI) Word Count: 6.8k Request: Morally grey, obsessive pleasure doms Gojo and Geto take care of their girl while she's on her period.

Click here to join my taglist!

Warnings are found below the cut!

A/N: This is my first time writing a threesome AND my first time writing for both of these characters....... So, Leeeeeroy Jenkins!

Warnings (besides what it says on the request): Use of pet names (princess, baby, etc), references to mental health issues, multiple sex positions, dacryphilia, cursing, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, cum eating, banter during sex, breeding kink, cervix fucking, deepthroating, praise and light degradation, y'all get the gist this is some filth (affectionate)

It was early one morning, far too early for any sane person to be awake as you sat on a couch, trapped between your two long-time friends. On one end of the couch, Satoru Gojo pouted and stared out the nearby window, nursing a can of soda like it was hard liquor. Geto Suguru occupied the other end, glaring at the wall like he wanted to burn a hole through it. He was doing his damnedest to avoid paying his best friend any attention as you sat between the two men, grumbling under your breath. You were unlucky enough to be quite literally in the middle of their dispute. 

The two young men had been fighting so much recently, and it had honestly hurt your heart to see. Their bickering had affected their efforts in school, nearly destroyed both of their mental health, and strained their relationship to a breaking point. Shoko had advised you to leave it alone, saying the boys needed to figure it out on their own or just fuck already, but as their other best friend, you just couldn’t take much more of it. Especially when Satoru made a habit of coming over at three A.M. to complain about Suguru. 

Funnily enough, that was precisely what had led to the current situation. Satoru had shown up, knocked so hard that he nearly broke your door down in the process, and shoved his way inside your apartment despite your many protests. 

Now, there were multiple reasons why his visit was horribly timed. The first would’ve been immediately evident if the strongest sorcerer wasn’t so preoccupied. You were wincing in pain when you answered the door, clutching a hot water bottle to your lower stomach, and Gojo had been too oblivious to notice. He simply brushed past you, already ranting as he headed directly for your plush couch. 

“‘Toru, wait-“ 

“That emo bastard can’t get it through his thick skull that we’re supposed to be friends. He-” Satoru paused mid-rant as the emo bastard in question sat up on your couch, groaning. Suguru had been fast asleep until now, and the raven-haired man looked pissed that he had been woken up. 

The deep circles under Suguru’s eyes had only grown more exaggerated in the past few days, and his long, beautiful raven hair was a tangled mess. You could see the weariness he carried creep under his skin more and more, and it honestly terrified you. Suguru had confided in you that he could barely sleep anymore, and like the good friend you were, you offered for him to sleep on your couch, hoping the proximity to a close friend would help ease his mind. 

“You’d better be talking about someone else,” Suguru hissed at Gojo, dark eyes flashing with anger as you slammed the heel of your hand against your head.

“I can already feel another migraine coming,” you muttered under your breath. “‘Satoru, as I was trying to say, you may want to come back later because I. already. have. company.”

You punctuated your words with brief pauses, not even bothering to try and hide the annoyance in your tone.  Gojo pursed his lips dramatically, rolling his eyes. He immediately turned on his heel to leave, but you beat him to the door. “Oh, no. You didn’t listen to me, so you get to stay. I am not in the mood for this to be a revolving door today.”  

He opened his mouth to argue, but one look from you silenced him. You motioned for Geto to scoot over on the couch, and the sleep-deprived man shot you an incredulous look as Gojo pilfered a soda from your fridge. 

Nearly thirty minutes of awkward silence had passed between the three of you on the couch before you’d finally had enough. You had been trying to be a good, patient friend, but this morning was the absolute last straw.  For half of the previous night, you’d been curled up in a ball with the most abysmal cramps, completely unable to sleep. Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, you had drifted off… only to be woken up by Gojo thirty minutes later. Your cramps were still coming in awful waves, and no medication was helping. You simply wanted to melt into the floor, but you were being forced to babysit two of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers who had ever lived while they behaved like petulant children. 

A particularly harsh cramp had you gritting your teeth, barely able to speak as you forced two words past your lips. “That’s enough.” 

Both of your companions’ heads whipped around, and you felt the weight of two completely different gazes. One was ice-cold, and the second felt like scorched earth; they were polar opposites, but each held the same intense gravity. 

“The two of you are going to talk this out. This all passed ridiculous a long time ago.” You continued, gesturing around dramatically with one hand, holding up the other to silence the noises of protest that left both men. Your throat felt dry and raw with anger. All of the frustration and pain in your body had coalesced into a single, white-hot ball of emotion, which was currently clawing its way out of your throat with a vengeance. 

“I’m not finished. Geto Suguru, I want you to feel better, but you have to open up to us. If you keep all your emotions bottled up, you’re going to go insane one day and start a cult or something.” 

Geto looked down at his folded hands, clearly a bit stunned by your outburst. Normally, something like this would’ve never happened. You were always such a caring, sweet girl, and you had never lost your temper in front of either man. Both Gojo and Geto instantly knew that they’d fucked up for you to be this viscerally angry and use their full names at the same time. You had never called them anything other than their first names for the many years you’d been friends.

“And you, Gojo Satoru, need to calm down and try to understand your best friend more. The two of you need to actually talk. You’ve just expected Suguru to come to you for help all this time, but you could also reach out first.” Gojo had the decency to blush in embarrassment, setting his soda can down on a coaster while you scolded him.

You stood rather abruptly, intending to leave the two men to sulk while you crawled back into your warm bed, but you forgot about one very important thing in your addled state. The hot water bottle was still on your lap, and it hit the floor with a loud clang the second you stood. Water splashed everywhere, finally catching the attention of both men. Gojo’s icy gaze met Geto’s earthen one as the full situation finally clicked in their heads, and they shared a look that clearly read “oh shit.” 

The loss of the water bottle’s comforting warmth was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Fat, hot tears started to roll down your cheeks as you felt your uterus violently contract again. You doubled over, and both men stood, rushing to your side as you cried out in pain, fully sobbing.

“You’re making all of us worry, especially me. I just can’t keep listening to my two best friends complain about each other instead of talking through their problems, and I feel horrible right now, and I just-” 

Geto ran a comforting hand down your back. “Shit. Shhh… We’re sorry for making you worry. Right, Satoru?” 

Gojo sighed as the raven-haired man stared at him pointedly. “He’s right, we’re very sorry. C’mere, let’s get you back into bed.” 

He held his arms out as you sniffled, wiping at your eyes. With one swift motion, Gojo scooped you up in his arms as Suguru quickly towled up the water on the floor. Somewhere deep in your mind, you realized that you could feel Satoru’s warm skin against yours; he had turned off Infinity for you. He cradled you for a few precious minutes, purring soft reassurances against your ear that had you relaxing into his arms. 

“S’ alright. I’ve got you.” 

Suguru rolled his eyes and finished cleaning in almost record time. He pushed his friend toward your room, entering first to scoop your sheets aside and plug in your big heating pad. Gojo laid you down on the soft mattress, and you immediately snuggled up underneath the sheets. Another sharp stab of pain made you wince, and the two men shared another pointed look and a collective sigh, finding enough truce in their argument to climb into the bed on either side of you. 

Geto passed the heating pad to Gojo, who gently placed it against your lower stomach before pulling you against his chest. You clung to him happily, nuzzling into his warmth. However, this new position also made you oblivious to the way Geto’s eyes flashed in frustration at the sight. 

The raven-haired man pulled your back against his chest in retaliation, splaying a possessive hand over your hip as Gojo smirked at him. You murmured in appreciation, unconsciously shifting to lay against them equally as you drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.  Geto and Gojo locked eyes and finally relaxed, seemingly arriving at some unspoken agreement. They joined you in a deep, comfortable sleep, and it was by far the best sleep any of you had gotten in months. 

The three of you only grew closer after that night. It had only taken a week for Gojo and Geto to patch up their relationship, and they emerged with a stronger bond than before. When Shoko asked about the change, the boys cheerfully credited your period-induced breakdown as the catalyst that led them to reconcile. Gojo would grin cheekily, the action only mirrored by his raven-haired counterpart’s self-satisfied smirk as the two repeated the very same answer to everyone else who asked. They also pointedly ignored how you blushed and stammered at them, “Please, stop telling everyone about that.” 

“No can do, sweetheart.” Satoru winked at you over the rim of his dark glasses before sighing dramatically, poking at your soft, pouting cheeks, “Besides, where would we be without you? You put us in our place, so you deserve all the credit.”

Geto chuckled, a darkly amused glint in his eyes as he placed his large hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “You’re right. We both need our girl to keep us straight.”

–

Time flew by as the three of you graduated and rejoined Tokyo Jujutsu High as young teachers. Life was… interesting; some things had changed for you, but many things still stayed the same. For one thing, you, Satoru, and Suguru were still incredibly close. Even though there were always missions to complete, students to educate, and monsters to kill, the three of you made time to spend together. 

Quite often, your “quality time” with the two men was spent in the form of a massive movie night at your apartment. There had been many discussions about moving it to Gojo’s ritzy new place, but the routine was already too ingrained in the three of you. So, every other weekend, you all piled on top of your plush sofa to watch cheesy movies, cycling through picks from every genre imaginable until everyone fell asleep. 

However, as much as you enjoyed the tradition, you had almost canceled tonight’s marathon. The worst part of your period was supposed to be over by now, but the heavy cramping hadn’t let up at all.

“Those two better be glad I love them so much,” you muttered, blushing slightly as you caught your accidental choice of words. 

Love? No, I don’t love those two. We’re just friends. Really good friends. 

Thoughts continued to whirl around your head as you hurriedly tidied up your living room and small kitchen, preparing everything for the night. No, you most definitely weren’t in love with both of your best friends at the same time. You were so good at ignoring how the two men had only grown more handsome and attentive to you since their big argument, and you definitely never imagined them taking you to bed….

By the time you had nearly convinced yourself that denial was just a river in Egypt, there was a cheerful knock at the door. The knock lasted for all of two seconds before Satoru pushed it open, grinning widely. The white-haired man still wore his blindfold but had traded his usual all-black uniform for a pair of suspiciously designer-looking grey sweatpants and a soft, black t-shirt.

“I brought treats!” He chimed, setting his armful of baked goods and sweets on the counter.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “‘Toru, did you rob a small bakery? You know you’re the only one who will eat most of it.” 

He noticed how you greedily eyed a bar of dark chocolate, snatching it up and waving it at you teasingly, “Oh, so you want me to take it back, then?” 

You pouted, trying to reach for the bar as Satoru weaponized his height against you. He held the chocolate just out of reach, and you jumped, almost brushing the very edge of the wrapper. You landed awkwardly, stumbling backward into something- no, someone- very solid. A rich, amused chuckle tickled your ear as Suguru caught you, reaching up to pluck the bar from Gojo’s hand as his hand cupped your hip. 

“Having fun without me, already?” 

“‘Toru’s being mean,” you complained as Suguru passed the sweet to you with a snide grin directed at the other man. 

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, removing his blindfold to wink at you. “I’ve wounded our princess so she can have the first movie pick tonight. 

Your heart twisted and fluttered in your chest at the use of that pet name and the sight of his gorgeous cerulean eyes, but you shoved that feeling aside as quickly as it appeared. 

“I can forgive you… this time.” 

“And you can make the first batch of popcorn,” Suguru added, his signature sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“I’ll make sure to burn yours,” Gojo grumbled in response, heading for the kitchen as Suguru herded you toward the couch. 

You plopped down onto the middle of the couch, and Geto settled to your left, promptly handing you the chunky knit blanket you favored. Funnily enough, the arrangement the three of you sat in was as much of a tradition as the movie night itself; you were always in the middle of the two men. The three of you were always sandwiched together, but that didn’t make you flustered. Jujutsu sorcery took such a high mental toll that you had long figured any cuddling was strictly platonic. 

Geto looped his arm around your waist, pulling you close, and you almost sighed in happiness as you caught the comforting scent of sandalwood soap and incense that always surrounded him. You tipped your head against his shoulder, smiling contentedly and nibbling into the chocolate bar as the two of you flipped through movies, looking for the perfect one. Gojo cursed loudly in the other room, and you giggled at the loud banging coming from the stove. 

A few hours later, you finally got to Geto’s pick: a cheesy B-grade horror movie. Bags of candy and popcorn lay strewn over the coffee table as the three of you watched the final girl run from yet another masked killer. You had excused yourself to the bathroom half an hour ago to take some medicine and change into a fresh pad, but your cramps stubbornly refused to give up. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the night, so you suffered in silence, silently wincing in pain every few minutes. 

Geto and Gojo shared a look as they felt your body tense for the umpteenth time, and the raven-haired man clicked pause on the remote while his counterpart rubbed tiny circles over the small of your back. 

“What is it?” Suguru asked, his voice and expression both filled with concern. 

“Nothing, really. I’m fine.” You tried to reassure both men, but they gazed at you, unimpressed and clearly not buying your story. 

“We know you well enough to know that’s not true.” Gojo gazed at you, suddenly more serious than he’d been all night. Geto squeezed your shoulder gently, and both men scooted even closer to you, clearly unwilling to let it go. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. “I’m on my period, and my cramps are really bad right now. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want tonight to end yet, even though I don’t feel well.” 

Geto’s gaze softened, and Gojo laughed quietly, “You know we couldn’t leave our girl when she’s in pain.” 

Your cheeks flushed hotly at Satoru’s words. 

“You know I’ll never get a boyfriend if you keep calling me that.”

The words left your lips before you could even think about what you were saying; the temperature in the room instantly felt ten degrees colder. Suguru’s deep, coffee-colored gaze narrowed instantly, and Gojo tipped his head down to look you in the eyes, his pale irises shining almost eerily in the dim light. 

“Do you not… want to be our girl?” Suguru leaned down to whisper against the shell of your ear, his voice a velvet purr that made you shudder. You felt both men hold you tighter, their grip infinitely more possessive; Geto nipped at the shell of your ear lightly, drawing a small moan out of you. 

“Sugu…. I….. mmmmph..” 

Gojo traced a finger underneath your chin, tilting your eyes to meet his calm gaze. The new angle of your neck gave Geto the perfect angle to kiss up and down the column of your neck, which he promptly took advantage of, ghosting his lips across the sensitive skin. You shuddered, whimpering slightly as Satoru held your face still in one of his large, calloused hands. 

“He asked you a question, baby,” Satoru crooned, a smirk tugging at the corner of his unfairly perfect lips. 

Embarrassment mixed with growing lust dusted your cheeks, and your eyelashes fluttered in sync with every sinful drag of Geto’s lips against your skin. Your head was growing fuzzy, yet your body felt light as a feather as you relaxed between the two large men. Any thought of your previous pain had faded away in a sea of bliss and disbelief until another vicious cramp tore through your abdomen. You jolted upright, worry flashing in your eyes. The two men paused immediately, backing off to let you speak. 

“Even if I do want this…. We can’t right now. I’m….” You trailed off in embarrassment, staring down at the hem of your shirt. 

“Do you think so little of us, sweetheart? You think we’re frightened by a little blood? Geto crooned, and Gojo grinned in response, gasping in mock indignation.  

You shook your head slightly, stammering in protest. “I-I don’t think you’re afraid of it, just that ‘s gross.” 

Gojo caressed your cheek with his thumb, and Geto nuzzled his nose against the crook of your neck in reassurance. “Nothing about you could ever be gross; what you’re going through is the most natural thing in the world.” The raven-haired man murmured. 

“And b-both of you want me?” You responded in a daze. 

“Yeah. It’s been that way for years,” Satoru smiled, unashamedly staring at the swell of your slightly parted lips as you gasped in response. 

“It’s been the three of us for our entire lives, and you kept it that way. I don’t see why it should ever change,” Geto added with a low note of amusement. He caressed your waist, and another shudder ran down your spine. “You’ve been ours for years… we’ve just been waiting for you to realize it. Let us take care of you, baby. You’ve done so much for us.” 

Every nerve ending of your body crackled like a live wire as the two men waited with bated breath for your response. Your mind whirled as you tried to string together an actual sentence. Finally, you were able to moan a single word. “Please…”

The effect it had on the two men was instantaneous. Suguru groaned, reattaching his lips to your neck and pulling you back into his lap. Your back hit his broad, muscular chest, and you melted against him instantly. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how long we’ve waited for this…. How many men we’ve chased off because they didn’t deserve you.” Satoru mumbled, surging forward to claim your lips with his own, pinning you against the other man. The kiss started out soft but quickly grew more insistent as you moaned and whimpered every time Suguru grazed your decolletage with his teeth. He started to pull the neck of your shirt aside for better access to more skin, and you writhed in his arms as he left bruises in the wake of his lips. 

At any other time, you would’ve questioned Satoru’s confession, but right now, you felt hot, almost delirious with budding desire, as he reached down to trail his fingers over your clothed pussy. He rubbed directly over your little clit, but the pleasure you craved was muted by the thick added layer of your pad, and you whined in protest. “‘Toru, need you s’badly.”

“You hear that? Our princess needs you, Satoru.” Geto purred as the other man continued tracing the outline of your pussy. 

You rocked your hips against his fingers, desperate to feel more, but you only succeeded in teasing Suguru as you accidentally rocked your ass directly against his rapidly growing erection.

He hissed loudly, trailing one of his hands under your shirt to cup your bare waist. Gojo chuckled at the sight of his best friend’s suffering, sucking on your bottom lip before pulling away with an audible pop. “Careful now, or you’re gonna make it hard for him to last.” 

“Oh, fuck off.” Suguru groaned in response, trailing his hand up to paw at your breast. You whined as he lightly pinched and rolled a nipple between his clever fingers, and the raven-haired man chuckled roughly, “Look at how dirty our girl is, not even wearing a bra. She’s so damn sensitive.” 

Your pussy throbbed at his words as Gojo leaned back, kneeling on the couch to watch the show you and Geto were putting on in front of him. Your gaze was half-lidded and hazy with lust, but you could still clearly see the way the muscles of his arm flexed as he reached down to palm his own erection. It stood proud, visibly tenting the dark grey sweatpants he wore, and your mouth watered at the mere outline of his dick. It looked so long and thick, and you could only imagine the bliss of it stuffing you and dragging against your deepest, most sensitive parts. 

He brushed a strand of white hair off his face, looking at you with another cocky smirk as he addressed the other man. “Oi, help me out here, Suguru. I seem to remember something about cramps… I think they’re improved by medicine, a heating pad, or something else. Now, what could that be?” 

Gojo paused for a clear, dramatic effect, his wolfish grin only growing wider as your breath caught in your throat. You were so distracted that you didn’t even realize Geto’s lips had trailed back up to your ear as he responded in a dulcet whisper, “I think the answer might be ‘they’re improved by orgasms.’ What do you think, pretty?”

“Yes, god yes,” you begged, rubbing your thighs together. The dull ache of your period had faded away into the haze of lust, but your pussy throbbed, begging to be filled.

Satoru winked at you, leaving the couch and walking into your bedroom for a moment. You whimpered as he left, and Geto chuckled again at your reaction, giving your nipple another rough pinch. “There’s no god here, baby, just us. But we’re gonna do you so good… Gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

You lay against his chest as Suguru pushed your shirt all the way up, tucking the hem between your teeth to give himself full, unimpeded access to your chest. He maneuvered the two of you around slightly, leaving you in his lap but allowing both of your legs to dangle off the edge of the couch. “Let’s give Satoru something to look at when he comes back, hmm? Bet he’d love to see these perfect tits.” 

He took each of your breasts into his warm hands, alternating between kneading the soft, supple flesh and pinching your aching nipples. You could only moan softly through the fabric of the shirt stuffed in your mouth as Geto took you higher and higher into bliss with every movement. 

Gojo walked back in not a minute later, holding a few fluffy, black towels. His beautiful eyes widened at the perfectly pornographic scene spread out in front of him, and he cursed under his breath, rushing back to the couch as Geto smirked at his best friend’s needy expression. 

“Careful, or he’s not gonna last long,” he teased, tugging off your shirt as he parodied Gojo’s earlier sentiment. 

The white-haired man huffed and shook his head sarcastically, but you certainly didn’t miss the way he threw his own shirt off and knelt between your legs as quickly as he could. His eyes were shining with ravenous desire, and your pussy throbbed as you realized that Geto’s teasing had an edge of truth. 

Gojo smiled up at you, tucking a towel between your hips and Geto’s lap before hooking his hands into the waistband of your pants, gently tugging them down and tossing them away. 

“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” He keened, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the inside of your thighs as his long fingers toyed with the hem of your panties. 

You bit your lip as a million worries flooded your mind, but Suguru caressed your face, whispering conspiratorially, “Think about how pretty he’s gonna look between your legs. He can finally put that smartass mouth of his to good use, right?” 

Satoru nibbled his way up your skin, sucking a dark hickey at the apex of your thigh as Geto continued to lavish your breasts with affection. You whined and moaned, keening with every touch. It felt like your entire body was on fire, and you’d go up in flames without the touch of both men. Any embarrassment you could’ve felt had long since evaporated; all you could do was beg for more as both men left their mark on your body. 

“‘Toru, please… Wanna cum so bad.” You whined, begging for relief, and Gojo glanced up at you with an expression that would’ve terrified anyone else. He may have been in a traditionally submissive position, but there was nothing submissive about his body language; he looked like a fallen angel with the way his pale hair framed his face.  

He slipped your panties off, breathing becoming heavier and heavier as all of your perfect body was finally revealed to his ravenous gaze. Satoru threw your legs around his shoulders, leaning back just enough to inspect your cunt. His pale eyelashes fluttered as he used one of his long fingers to part your puffy, swollen folds, completely mesmerized as you moaned his name and your cunt clenched in sheer anticipation of his touch. You were obscenely wet from the mixture of blood and arousal that trailed down your legs, and Gojo couldn’t wait any longer. 

“Our girl’s got a perfect fucking pussy, Suguru,” He mumbled, diving in to lick a fat stripe all the way up to your clit. You moaned wantonly, your head lolling back against Geto’s strong chest as the man behind you held your body upright, still enamored with the way your breasts fit in his hands. 

Period sex was very new to you, but you could already tell that it felt different- not different, better. You felt more sensitive than ever before, and not just between your legs. Your breasts felt heavy and full; you had a sneaking suspicion that you could’ve cum from Geto toying with them alone. 

Gojo’s eyes fluttered shut in bliss as he ate you out like a man starved. He lapped up every bit of arousal and blood from your weeping pussy, fucking you with his tongue before trailing delicious circles on your swollen clit with his tongue until you screamed his name. Your thighs wrapped around Satoru’s head, and the white-haired man moaned desperately, taking the opportunity to slip two fingers deep into your cunt. You keened at the delicious stretch, and Suguru groaned at the sight. 

“T-Toru… Ah-! Sugu….” Tears of pure bliss started to gather in the corners of your eyes as Satoru’s fingers rubbed mercilessly against your G-spot. You felt a familiar band of pleasure start to stretch in your lower stomach, and you whined in desperation. Suguru grabbed one of your arms, pressing desperate kisses against the delicate skin of your inner wrist as his other hand toyed with a nipple in time with Satoru’s thrusts.

“S’close.. Nnnnngh, gonna cum… pleasepleaseplea-” The band of pleasure snapped suddenly before you could even finish your sentence, launching you over the edge of the most intense orgasm of your life. Tears fell as you shattered in between the two men, crying and rocking your hips against Satoru’s face while your core fluttered around his fingers. 

“You’re fucking perfect,” Suguru growled as he scooped you up. He cradled you in his arms and leaned down to kiss you as Satoru stood, licking the blood and cum off his fingers. 

The taller man grinned as the two of you kissed passionately, leaning over to wipe a tear off your cheek. 

“Baby, you cryin'?” Satoru simpered before leaning in to lick off another tear. When Suguru pulled away to tell him off, Satoru pulled him into a searing kiss, slotting his tongue into the other man’s mouth. Geto’s eyes flared in shock before he leaned into the embrace, moaning as he tasted your arousal on his best friend’s tongue. 

“I thought you deserved a taste, too. Isn’t she sweet?” Gojo asked innocently as he pulled away to kiss you as well. You whined and ran your hand over his bare chest as the white-haired man nipped at your already kiss-swollen bottom lip. 

“Bedroom. Now.” Geto stood abruptly, his voice hoarse as he broke the embrace between you and Gojo. He carried you in his arms, shoving another large towel on top of your sheets before gently laying you on top of it. Your head lolled to the side, and you reached down to play with your puffy little clit, moaning softly as the men finished undressing in front of you. 

You watched shamelessly, taking in the sight of their beautiful bodies. Both men were tall and muscular, but Satoru was taller with more of a lean build, almost like an acrobat or a swimmer. Suguru was truly the Yin to Gojo’s Yang; he was stockier and deliciously broad. It was an undeniable fact that both men were gorgeous.

“Sugu… Toru…. Please. Wanna feel you both in me,” You begged, rocking your hips against the movement of your fingers, not even caring about how needy you sounded. 

The bed dipped with their weight as both men joined you on the bed without further hesitation. Geto knelt in front of you, motioning for you to get on all fours and face him. You hummed in delight, rolling over and pushing yourself up to face him. Suddenly, Gojo pinched your plush ass with a snicker. You gasped in shock, and Suguru took the opportunity to slap his thick cockhead onto your tongue. 

“We’re gonna fuck you raw from both ends first, baby. Gonna really make you ours. How’s that sound?” He questioned with a smirk, rubbing his fat tip over your tongue. 

Your gasp quickly turned into a purr of delight as you worked his tip into your mouth, greedily licking at the prominent vein that ran underneath his shaft. Geto’s raven-dark hair fell around his shoulders like a curtain as he moaned loudly. You could taste the salt and musk of his pre-cum as you worked his shaft deeper and deeper into your throat. 

Gojo cursed lowly as he lined up his swollen cockhead with your opening. You wiggled your hips back at him, wordlessly begging to feel the stretch and delicious length of him deep inside you. He pushed in at an agonizingly slow pace, trying to give you time to adjust. 

You moaned in ecstasy, and Geto gasped, bucking his hips slightly as he felt the vibrations of your throat around his shaft. “Fucking hell, baby. You’re sucking my dick like you were made for it.”

Gojo pushed in further, finally bottoming out with his fat cockhead nestled snugly against your cervix. You whined at the dull ache, but the feeling was addictive. You rocked your hips, desperate for more, and the white-haired man moaned. “And she’s sucking me in like she wants to get pregnant tonight.”

Your eyes flew open, and you gasped around Geto’s dick, drawing another ragged moan from the man. It wasn’t what you had intended at all, but you couldn’t hide your reaction to Satoru’s lascivious words, especially since he could feel your core fluttering in agreement with his statement. 

You could feel the wickedly delighted grin spread across his face as Gojo grew deadly silent for a moment. “Oh, Suguru~ you should’ve felt the way she just clenched around me when I said that. Our girl is even dirtier than we thought.” 

“I told you she’s perfect.” Geto slid into your mouth even further, sighing in bliss and his own ecstasy as he pushed into your throat, entwining his hands in your hair. You gagged for a brief moment; his dick had more girth than Gojo’s, and it was the biggest you’d ever taken like this. The raven-haired sorcerer moaned and crooned down at you, stroking the column of your throat where his cock was nestled so deeply.

More tears fell as your eyes watered in the bliss of being so completely used by the two men. You felt so full, so complete, and you couldn’t help but moan again as your nose rubbed against the dark trail of hair on Geto’s lower abdomen. 

“Shit, gotta move. You ready, baby?” Gojo groaned, shallowly thrusting his hips. You tried to moan in assent, but the sound was strangled by the dick in your throat. 

Geto tipped his head back in ecstasy, laughing hoarsely. “She wants it s’badly, ‘Toru.”

The two men started to move, alternating their thrusts in perfect rhythm like they’d planned this moment for years. Every deep thrust from Gojo would send you falling forward onto Geto’s cock; you could only wordlessly cry in bliss from the position the two men fucked you mercilessly.

Satoru pinched and kneaded the tender flesh of your ass with every thrust. He swiped one of his fingers between your legs, collecting the creamy mixture of his pre-cum and your arousal, offering it out to his best friend with a smirk. Geto sucked it off with an audible pop, groaning at the taste as Satoru returned to collect more. You choked again as you felt one of his long, clever fingers tease your tightest hole, circling the rim with predatory intent. 

“Relax, baby. Gotta get you ready f’me.” He slipped his finger in, beginning to work you open as you relaxed into the intense but euphoric sensation. 

“Our slutty princess wants all her holes filled, huh?” Geto groaned, looking down at your fucked-out expression. “Gotta cum again for us. Gonna make you cum so hard that you can’t think straight.” 

Satoru slipped a second finger into your ass, working you open even further as the two men fell slightly out of sync with their thrusts. They were both breathing hard, grunting and begging desperately for you to cum with them. As if on command, you fell apart for the second time with an obscene moan. White sparks flashed through your vision as your orgasm shot through you, even more forceful than the first. Your cunt spasmed around Gojo so violently that he came on the spot, painting your blood-swollen womb with his pearlescent seed. 

Geto cursed at the sound of Gojo’s strangled cry, pulling completely out of your mouth. You panted and moaned below him, your body shaking with every thrust as Gojo fucked you through your orgasm. Suguru groaned as your tongue lolled out, begging to be coated with his cum. His balls felt almost uncomfortably full as he stroked his shaft rapidly, intent on giving you what you begged for so prettily. 

It only took a few seconds for Geto’s own orgasm to crash through him. The smooth movements of his hips and hands stuttered as he groaned lowly, painting your pretty face with his seed. However, most of it landed in your mouth, and you happily caught it with your pink tongue, holding it out for him to inspect. 

“You’re going to… be the death of me one day,” the raven-haired man moaned as he felt blood immediately rush back to his cock. Instead of swallowing, your eyes shone mischievously, and you turned around to pull Satoru into a searing kiss. You mimicked his earlier actions, but this time you were pushing Suguru’s cum into his mouth.  

Gojo moaned wantonly at the sharp taste, swallowing his share as his own cock twitched back to life. Geto pulled you away from the other man, maneuvering you to face him as he brought your hips down, filling you with his cock in a single thrust. You screamed hoarsely, cunt spasming from overstimulation as Gojo laughed roughly, wiping the remainder of his friend’s cum off his lips before positioning himself behind you. 

The white-haired man watched greedily as you bounced on Geto’s cock, taking a minute to lean back and stroke his dick until he was fully erect. Gojo pulled your hips back, stilling Geto’s thrusts, and he growled in response.

“Gotta let me in too,” Gojo chided, swiping a finger over his fat tip to coat it with pre-cum as he positioned it against your other hole. Your eyes widened, and you gasped as he started to push into you, stretching you slowly but mercilessly. Geto pulled you in for a ravenous kiss, devouring your litany of moans as he struggled to keep from thrusting into you. After a small eternity, both men were seated fully inside you, and you whined their names over and over like a prayer, begging them to start moving. 

“Toru, Sugu… nnnnhgh, ‘m so full,” you cried, leaning your head against Geto’s shoulder as the two men cradled you in their arms. Their hands roamed over your body, caressing and groping every inch of you as they began to move, stretching your body past the very limits of pleasure. Your eyes glazed over; you couldn’t tell who was kissing your neck versus who was rubbing achingly soft circles on your clit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as the two men brought you to climax again and again.

Soft rays of dawn were peeking through your bedroom window by the time the three of you fell onto your bed, breathing hard but finally sated. You looked around at the sheets and at your lovers, blushing hotly at the dried red marks that covered almost every surface in the room. The towels had not lasted long.

Geto chuckled, rubbing your back soothingly, “We’ll clean up. Don’t worry.” 

“And we’ll prepare better for next time,” Gojo added with a grin, poking your cheek. 

Your whole body felt like jelly, but the two men were determined to care for you properly. Suguru walked into the bathroom, and you could hear the sound of water filling your bathtub as Satoru fetched a glass of water for you, helping you sit up to drink properly. He scooped you up, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he walked you into the bathroom, depositing you in the warm water. The three of you washed each other in blissful silence, with both men being extra attentive to your sore body. Afterward, they changed your sheets and put you in clean pajamas, slipping their own sweatpants on to climb into bed next to you. 

“Thank you…” You murmured, already drifting off to sleep between your two lovers. 

Geto kissed your temple silently as Gojo laughed softly, “Of course. We have to take good care of our girl, after all.”

Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @cindyneko-strider @unoriginalidea @eldritchbeauty @markleeisdabestdrug @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @akiiireix @tojispookiebear @dangoank0 @ifuckinghateschool @barryatsumu @voids-universe @mahgyu @themoonmonologues @byul9158 @pseudowho

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Hi!! I love your writing!!!!! Could I request some totally self indulgent headcanons or a small Drabble/fic? Ford x reader on their birthday! It’s my birthday in a few weeks and I just really want my fictional man there 😭😂 but I thought I’d ask early in case your inbox was full! Thank you! ❤️

when the scientist loves you | Ford Pines x reader

hii angel, happy birthday!! ♡ i hope your day is as lovely as you are, may this year bring you endless inspiration, happy moments and everything your heart desires! ♡ ♡ ♡

tags: birthday, fluff, sfw, established relationship

Ford's voice carries softly from the kitchen, muttering as he reads measurements off an old recipe card. You sit at the table, watching the back of his head tilt toward the stovetop. The apron Mabel gave him, the one with "may the fork be with you" scribbled across the front in obnoxious block letters, look ridiculously cute tied over his sweater.

“You look very dignified in that, professor,” you tease, propping your chin on your hand.

Ford turns his head to shoot you a dry look, though there’s a tug of amusement at the corner of his mouth. “Sweetheart, you know, my culinary doctorate doesn’t let me cook in anything else.” he teases you back.

You laugh and Ford straightens a little, pushing his glasses up his nose with the back of his wrist.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” you look at the table where a neatly folded napkin waits beside a single glass of wine. “it’s just a birthday.”

He glances over his shoulder, his face expression changes into serious one. “Just a birthday?” he repeats incredulously. “this is the day the universe decided to grace existence with you. The fact that you think it’s ‘just’ anything is absurd.”

You're staring at him in silence right now because, to be honest, you can't find the right words to respond to such a compliment. And as if satisfied with your surprised cute face, Ford turns back to the stovetop, missing the way your lips press together to suppress a smile.

“Besides,” he adds, stirring whatever’s in the pan, “i’ve run calculations. The probability of me burning this is well below fifteen percent.”

“Comforting.” your answer makes Stanford smirk, but he keeps his focus on his work.

Minutes later, he places the plate in front of you with both satisfaction and concern on his face. “honesty, no pressure, but if it’s terrible, i might die of shame. . .”

You roll your eyes at your husband because how does a man that smart always doubt and criticize himself?

Taking a bite, your lips turn into smile, the taste becomes warm and pleasant, pulling a hum of approval from your chest. “Ford, this is amazing?”

He exhales with relief and pulls out the chair beside you. “Good, i wasn’t sure if the seasoning would—”

“You’re incredible,” you interrupt and Ford stops mid-sentence as the tips of his ears turn red.

“Believe me, my love, you deserve nothing less.”

You eat together and at one point, he picks up the fork himself, offering you another bite. Once the plates are cleared, he stands abruptly, holding out his hand. “Lets go, sweetheart.”

“Where?” you ask, letting him pull you to your feet.

“You’ll see.” you barely have time to grab your coat before he’s leading you toward the door. His six fingered hand feels so warm in yours as you step outside into the cool air. “Close your eyes,” he says, and when you hesitate, he squeezes your hand. “trust me.”

You huff but obey, curling your fingers against his. Ford proudly guides you through the woods as he starts talking enthusiastically. “You know, if we were walking blindfolded through the quantum multiverse instead of this forest, you’d have a thirty-five percent chance of stepping into a dimension where time runs backward.”

You grin, keeping your eyes closed. “Fascinating.” you're parodying his catchphrase. “should i be worried about that here?”

“Unlikely,” he deadpans, though you can hear the smirk in his tone. “but if you hear an oscillating sound, let me know immediately.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously well-prepared.” some minutes later the ground beneath your feet changes texture, the soft crunch of dirt giving way to grass, and Ford’s pace slows.

“Are we there yet?” you ask impatiently.

“Almost, darling. Okay, stop. You can open your eyes.” you hesitate, preparing yourself before letting your eyelids flutter open. The sight in front of you makes you gasp.

Ahead of you, nestled in the clearing, is a flower that glows, it's long and translucent petals, curved outward, are made of the thinnest glass. Luminous veins, similar in color to silver, pulsate through them. The center shimmers with different colors, like the aurora borealis trapped in a single bloom.

“Ford. . .” you take a step forward, the damp grass pressing under your shoes, but you can’t look away. You turn your head slightly, glancing at him. Ford is staring at the flower too, the bright light from the flower is reflected in his glasses, but his expression isn’t the detached curiosity he usually wears while talking about his discoveries. It’s different now, gentler.

“A luminaria eximia,” Ford explains, predicting your question. “it’s rare, very rare, it only blooms under specific conditions.”

“You brought me here to see this?”

“Of course,” he replies with intonation as if the question confuses him. “you deserve extraordinary things.”

Your chest tightens and the tears you’ve been holding back sting at the edges of your vision. You don’t want him to see, don’t want to ruin the moment with your sudden wave of overwhelming emotion, so you turn away and close the space between you and him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his chest.

Ford stiffens, caught off guard by your reaction. Did he do something wrong? That's his first reaction, worry and concern for you, but then he relaxes, settling his hands settling your back, hugging you too. The time he spent with you made him know exactly what to do without you needing to ask and explain.

“Hey, hey,” he says gently, leaning down. “now what’s this?”

You shake your head, tightening your arms around him. “You—” you hate how your voice trembles, “you didn’t have to do all this.”

Ford chuckles. “sweetheart, of course i did, i wanted to.”

You lift your head slightly, still not letting him see your face, and his hand moves to your chin, tilting it upward until you have no choice but to meet his attentive gaze.

“You deserve this,” his thumb brushes a stray tear from your cheek. “you deserve everything.” his words unravel you completely and he must see it because his brows knit together with concern before softening again. His six-fingered hands cup your face gently, treating you like his precious artifact he’s vowed to protect. “you mean so much to me, i don’t know how else to say it except—”

But you don’t let him finish. You lean up, standing on your toes to close the small distance between you, and kiss him. The first reason is just because you want to, and the second is because that smartass needs to shut up with his touching speeches before you flood the whole field with your tears. Ford freezes for a moment, startled, but then his hands find your face and he deepens it carefully, afraid of breaking the moment.

You don’t know how long you stay like that because you're ready to spend eternity with his lips on yours, kissing you slowly, so sensually, softly, so damn tenderly, trying to memorize the shape of your mouth while his thumbs moving in slow arcs over your cheeks.

When you finally pull back, his hair ruffled from your hands, Ford looks at you as though you’ve just rewritten the laws of the universe. “oh, you really do have a way of surprising me.” he raises his eyebrows.

“Takes one to know one,” the corner of your mouth lifting as you run your finger over his jawline.

He laughs at that and after one last lingering glance at the luminous flower, he takes your hand again. “come on,” his voice changes into more teasing. “i haven’t even given you your present yet.”

“This wasn’t it?” you ask, gesturing back toward the flower as he starts to lead you out of the clearing.

“No, this was. . . an extra. A bonus, if you will.”

“Ah, an extra,” you repeat teasingly. “you’re ridiculous, Stanford Pines.”

“You already said that.”

By the time you step inside the Mystery Shack, the lingering chill of the evening has melted away. The warm glow of the lamps greets you and Ford’s hand lingers on yours before he releases it. He takes off his coat and drapes it over the back of a chair. You follow suit, watching as he rubs his hands together nervously, before giving you a soft lopsided smile.

“Wait here for a moment!” and though you’re still glowing from the earlier surprises, his tone piques your curiosity again. He disappears, leaving you standing there, before you can ask any questions.

When your husband returns, he’s holding a small wooden box, polished as though he carved it himself. Its edges are rounded and there’s a mark burned into the top: his initials, alongside yours.

“This,” and for all his brilliance, his voice sounds so nervous as he holds it out to you. “this is for. . . you.”

You take the box carefully and lift the lid. Inside, on a piece of dark fabric, is a necklace. No, calling it a necklace doesn’t do it justice. It’s far more otherworldly, the pendant a swirling prism of beautiful colors that change, reminding you of the starlight caught in a bottle.

You stare at it, not daring to find the words.

“It’s called a crystallite shard,” Ford explains again. “i found it on one of my expeditions. It only exists in one dimension and it’s said to reflect the thoughts of the person wearing it. Not their memories exactly, but their essence, in a way.”

You look up at him, wide-eyed. “Ford. . .”

“I thought,” he continues, “that if anyone deserved to have something so unique and unrepeatable, it would be you.”

You’re speechless, brushing your finger over the pendant as it gleams under the light of the Mystery Shack.

And before you can say something, ”b-but that’s not all,” Ford gestures to the box. You tilt it slightly and see another layer beneath the fabric: a small, intricately detailed wooden charm, shaped like a constellation. More simple compared to the necklace, but so beautiful in its own way.

“I carved that,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s. . . it’s the constellation we saw the first time we stargazed together. I wanted you to have something from me, personally.”

Your heart swells and before he can say anything else, you throw your arms around his neck, clutching him tightly. “Ford, you didn’t have to. This is. . . this is so perfect.”

Stanford smiles softly, wrapping his arms around you. “you deserve perfect,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “you deserve more than I could ever give, darling.”

“This is more than enough,” you pull back to look into his eyes.

Ford akes the necklace from the box. “May i?” what a damn gentleman, you think and nod, turning around as he drapes it carefully around your neck. When he’s finished, you touch the pendant lightly, marveling at the way it seems to shift with your movements. “It suits you, matches your beautiful eyes.” he just stands there and can't stop admiring you.

You both end up on the couch not long after, wrapped in the softest blanket he could find. Ford's arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you against him. But some time later, blanket is forgotten as his hands desperately, but gently explore every part of you they can reach, your back, your arms, the curve of your waist.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ford brushes his lips against your hair. “i hope you know that.”

You laugh. “well, you tell me often enough.”

“Not often enough,” he says firmly, cupping your cheek. “i don’t think i could ever say it enough or show you enough. You're everything i don’t deserve but can’t let go of.”

“Ford—” you start, but he doesn’t let you speak, kissing you, stealing the words from your mouth. Ford tilts your head gently, threading his long fingers into your hair as the kiss grows with aching intensity, damn, he’s been starving for this moment. Your hands find his chest, his shoulders, clutching at him.

“Every time i touch you, i can’t believe you’re real.” he breathes out between kisses, trailing his lips down to your jaw, then your neck. He pauses there, pressing another kiss just below your ear. “your skin,” his hands trace the line of your shoulders. “so warm, i could stay like this forever.”

You can’t even reply, not when he’s kissing you like this, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck.

Then he leans back only to take your hands in his, bringing them to his lips, kissing each knuckle. “these hands, they’ve done so much. They’ve built a life for us, cared for me in ways i never thought i’d experience again. They’re precious to me.” you bite your lower lip when his mouth finds the delicate skin of your wrists. “and this heart,” he presses his lips where your pulse beats steadily. “so full of love, so generous, i’m in awe of it every single day.”

“So beautiful, every part of you. I could spend a lifetime just looking at you, touching you, loving you. I just love you, love you so much it terrifies me sometimes.”

You can’t find the words to respond, so you just lean into him, burying your face in his neck as he holds you. His hands never stop moving, caressing and holding you, trying to reassure himself that you’re here, that you’re his. Because you damn deserve to be cherished, every inch of you deserves to be kissed, to be loved. And Ford Pines will spend the rest of his life making sure you know that.

“Come here, darling, closer, need you closer,” he pulls you deeper into his embrace, his lips are on you again, kissing your cheeks, your eyelids, the tip of your nose. You giggle when he presses another kiss to your temple, then to your ear. “do you know how long i’ve waited to hold you like this? to touch you, to love you? it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but he doesn’t stop, cradling your face in both hands. “youre extraordinary, every part of you. your mind, your heart, your body. I don’t know how i got so lucky, but i’ll never stop trying to be worthy of you. You're everything to me and i’ll spend every day reminding you of that. Happy birthday, darling, thank you for letting me love you.” Ford kisses you until you’re dizzy, your fingers tangling in his hair as you try to keep up.

[sugawhaaa]

hellohello i came to the rescue (meaning i came with a txt request). you're like.... one of my favourite blogs so um.... yeah. but anyway can i ask for pussydrunk!soobin (i dont think you've done that yet...) yeah thank you

~ 🦊

SOOBIN DRABBLE

💦•[Starved, Addicted, Drunk]•💦

Warnings//genre:: SMUT, oral (fem rec) spit play

Pairing:: dom!soobin x sub!fem!reader

A/N:: sorry this is so short I feel so bad 😭🙏 I may add onto this later 🤞

Txt masterlist:: 🌊

Soobin was always one to eat you out like a man on the verge of starvation but you had never seen him in a state like this. It was like no matter how much of your arousal he ate he couldn't get enough. He was starved, addicted, drunk out of his mind for you.

Your legs tremble as he holds your thighs open. He had already made you cum at least twice, if not more you've basically lost track of anything going on, but he was still not letting go. "S-Soobin," You breathe out as your hands tangle into his straight soft hair. He glances up to show you he's listening, not daring to take his mouth of your pussy for even a second to respond. "How much longer are you going to do this?" You chuckle softly. You question wasn't meant to tell him to stop, just simply wondering what his goal is here. He then finally pulls back to speak.

"Until your flavor has soaked so deep into my mouth that every time I inhale it tastes like your cunt," He replies breathlessly before sucking your folds into his mouth again. The lewdness of his words made your head spin even more, your gut tightening. He moans against your clit as he swirls his tongue in circles around it. Every now and then you can hear him slurp in more of your arousal, partially using it as lube on his tongue and partially using it to satisfy his craving.

"Oh soobin," You moan as your head falls back against the couch cushion. "I-I'm getting close again," You squeal and Soobin presses his jaw against you harder, his tongue dipping into your slit and circling it as deep as he could. He quickly looks up at you to watch your reaction, your back arching to expose your chest out far for him to stare at. You feel him push out some of his saliva onto your folds again to make his tongue glide smoother as he sorts through the tender folded skin. "Soobin!" You cry out as you pull his hair hard. He chuckles lowly, the sound vibrating in your folds. Your legs begin to twitch before locking around his head to which he moans in response.

Your orgasm rolls through your body in waves, each ripple making your body quiver and twitch. Soobin then pulls back, finally able to breathe as you watch strings of cum and saliva stick those bunny lips and rounded chin. Your head falls back again due to the rush of horniness from his lewd display. "I think I'ma need you to do that again," You chuckle.

[sundew199]

First Time w/ Luffy and Zoro

a/n: this was an anon request from the beginning of October, hope you enjoy and thank you for the request! ♡

Tags: Luffy x f!reader, Zoro x f!reader, first times, oral f!recieving, fingering, smut, aftercare, fluff

Luffy

you're first time with Luffy was somewhat unconventional. And not in the sense that was bad or unenjoyable, more on the lines of unexpected and very spur of the moment.

A party had been thrown that night, lots of drinking, laughing, and pestering, your captain celebrating another victory over taking down an unfair/unjust ruler of an island.

His smile lit up the party in the town square, so joyful and carefree, childlike but not innocent, one of the many reason you held such strong romantic feelings for the captain. It wouldn't be fair to call what you and him had a relationship, neither of you minded, seeing as he had a goal to meet and a crew to run, but he was there for you when you needed him and vice versa.

Luffy was stumbling back to his cabin when he spotted you talking to Robin and Nami, slurring the request to help him find more booze somewhere on the ship. You giggled drunkenly as you stood, coyly waving to the other two ladies who kept you company as you sauntered off to join your captain.

Neither of you found what you were looking for, and honestly you didn't expect that to happen in the first place, not when your drunken stupor began a churn of lust and want in your stomach just walking alone down the hallway to wherever.

"Luffy..."

"Yea?"

Both of you were frozen where you stood, gazing at each other with hazy vision and wondering how to proceed next. Deep down you hoped Luffy wanted you like you wanted him, but wasn't keen on ruining what the two of you already had by confessing.

"I think I have some booze in my room, we could grab that." Suggesting with a smirk, Luffy not picking up on the underlying meaning of your words, or maybe he did and you were just too gone to notice.

"Oh right, I remember seeing it last time we were in there, good call."

Taking your hand and his and stumbling down the other way from where you were going to your room. Excitement and anticipation swelled and burned throughout your body, coming up with a loose plan for once the two of you were alone.

The door shut softly, followed by the click of the lock, Luffy rummaging through your stuff to find the booze, muttering under his breath and pulling a giggle from you. Your captain may not always be the most sound of mind person, but when he set a goal to something, he would complete it.

"Luffy"

Barely whispering his name again, standing behind him at a distance, your cheeks flared with heat when he popped up to look at you, a sly drunk smile across his face, nerves tingling as you took a step closer. Your hands moved faster than your lips, grasping the side of his face and locking your lips together. He didn't kiss back immediately, stunned by the boldness of your actions, but eventually succumbing to the warmth and softness pressed to him.

Slow unhurried drunk kisses continued as both of you gained more confidence with your actions, Luffy running his hands up from your hips to your ribs, tracing your torso and stomach as he stood there and kissed you.

Arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, humming into the kisses eventually and allowing him to back peddle towards the bed, guiding you to sit on his lap. Everything was so hazy, time was dragging but going by fast at the same time it was incomprehensible for either of you.

Eventually you found yourself pinned to the bed with nothing on, Luffy running his lips and tongue down your heated skin, reaching down between your legs and peppering your inner thighs in bites and kisses. You would've never thought of him to be so attentive, so purposeful with his touches. It was all bliss, arching to his featherlight touches and later writhing from the heat of his mouth on your cunt.

For a man who liked to eat more than the average person, it shouldn't have surprised you how Luffy absolutely devoured your cunt, not even letting up after your first orgasm, instead taking it on as a challenge and working his tongue and fingers in and around you.

When you couldn't take anymore, you whined his name so prettily and huffed out the plea for him to fuck you, needing to be filled and quell the ache of emptiness. Luffy laughed and shed the rest of his clothes, distracting you with a kiss as he lined himself up, swallowing your moan and gasp as the tip of his cock pushed past the tight ring of muscle.

The stretch was satisfying, delightful almost from how perfect it felt as you weren't given a chance to see anything from his distraction, you welcomed it nonetheless. His breath fanned over your face once he began to move, holding back the sounds of pleasure and bliss which appeared so obvious and blatantly on his face.

"Luffy, god Luffy."

Moaning to him, threading your fingers into the back of his hair and pulling down for a kiss. The world was fading behind you, into the background the only thing that you could focus on was the feel of your captain above you.

So much could be said, but it was uncertain if you should confess the deep affection you felt for him, even though Luffy was thrusting in and out of you at a pleasant rhythm, the conversation you desired to have instantly forgotten with the brush along the deepest part of you.

Arching off the bed with a whine, Luffy chuckled and latched onto your neck, sucking a welt that would be red and purplish and somehow that sent another rush of arousal down to your cunt, clenching around him.

"Damn, d-do that again,"

Stuttering a little as he spoke, faltering in his pace a little and giving an indication that he might be close. Both of you were still loopy from the alcohol, a faint buzz running along side the lust throughout your beings.

Clenching around him again, Luffy buried his face into your neck, increasing his thrusts to chase the impending reward that was his release, your nails digging into his scalp along with your face pressing into his hair to muffle the sweet sound of your moans.

Silence overtook the room, but not completely, the sound of skin meeting skin in a frenzy disturbed the air, adding the weight of mutual longing and affection. Luffy managed to bring himself off of your neck just enough to messily kiss you, groaning into your lips and pressing harder when his hips finally still and the rush of warmth came to fill the emptiness inside you.

For an extended moment, neither of you moved, looking each other in the eyes almost blankly, but not empty like one could assume if they were witnesses to the entire interaction.

Luffy finally pulled himself out, briefly looking at the mess created between your legs, lazily smiling and then looking back up at you, like he were proud of the result. Neither of you had the energy to get up and properly clean yourself, falling into each other's embrace on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

"Should we talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

Luffy's response should've been expected, but you still laughed a little at the obliviousness, whether it was on purpose or not.

"Well about us and what just happened." Sitting up to get a better look at him, the bed sheet held up to your chest to give you a bit of decency, Luffy shuffling to prop himself up on an elbow.

"What's there to talk about, I like you, in a different way than the rest of the crew, ya know?"

A nod offered as part of your response, leaning closer to gently kiss his lips and hold the side of his face. Maybe this were a sign to not rush whatever it was between you and your captain, enjoy the steadiness of what you had already.

"Yea, I like you too, a lot."

Zoro

you're first time with Zoro was almost anticipated, by you at least, happening during one of his training sessions you were sitting in on, a gloomy rainy afternoon. Zoro had recently just confessed his feelings, asking you if you'd like to be his girlfriend in the sweetest and most awkward way, he reminded you so much of a lovesick kid the way he kind of stumbled over his words then. Of course you said yes, and three or so months later you found yourself pinned to the mat by your wrists, held by your head in his sweaty hands.

Earlier during his training session you'd been teasing him with little remarks, sexual innuendos more like and the frustration had built rather quickly inside him, warning you with a chuckle and dead lifting the comically large barbell from the floor.

"That mouth is going to get you in trouble at some point."

Remarking as he let the barbell crash back down to the floor, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and twisting to face you.

"By who? You?"

Shooting back with a knowing smile, swinging your legs back and forth on the bench seat by the window, easing the grip you had on the wood edge of the seat.

"Maybe not me, but someone who may not like you as much as I do."

You laughed a little, watching his back muscles tense as he bent back over to retrieve the barbell at his feet, hearing the large intake of air he took before lifting it from the ground. Watching Zoro train was a new light of attractiveness, and god did it make you so needy. But not enough for you to make the first move, unfortunately.

Zoro did though, having been thinking about taking you for the first time long before he confessed his feelings. With you being so obvious, despite knowing you were unaware, Zoro dropped the barbell again and sauntered over to you, leaning over just enough to kiss you suddenly while holding the sides of your face. You tasted so sweet, so divine it was like drinking sake from heaven, only better. Your confidence grew after a moment of kissing him, standing up and walking him backwards and away from the bench, almost succeeding until he flipped while standing still and laying you down on the mat.

A switch had flipped in Zoro's brain, the taste of your skin flooding his mind with a fog that guided all his actions, letting his hands roam as if this weren't the first time he were taking his time in feeling the dips and curves of your body. You started to squirm and that's when he pinned your wrists with his hands, eventually moving to hold both of them with one hand above your head as he needed at least one to please you.

No words were spoken between you two, caught up in your respective wants and letting your body do the speaking per se. Your clothes were gone in a matter of minutes, the humid damp air of the crow's nest clinging to the sweat beading on your skin, adding to the intensity. Zoro's lips dragged down your sterum, kissing all around your stomach and leaving long stripes with his tongue and you were falling deeper and deeper into bliss.

"Spread your legs?"

Suddenly hearing his rasp of a question, lifting your head enough to see and feel his free hand dancing along your inner thighs, ticking the skin to goosebumps, filling your gut with anticipation.

Following his command, letting your head fall back onto the mat, you gasped at the single thick finger barely prodding your entrance, gathering the slick to better help push its way in. Zoro soothed you with a kiss to your inner thigh, occupying his mouth there as he pushed his middle finger all the way in, groaning at how tight you were. You moaned as quietly as you could at the slow pump, the sensation of his single finger prepping and stretching you for what was to come, running hot underneath your skin.

A second finger was added and your back arched off the mat, a leg thrown over his shoulder and the grip his hand still had on your wrist tightened. His speed increased as well, impatience taking over and wanting to replace his fingers with his cock. He sighed for you to cum, promising himself to let you reach an orgasm before allowing himself to be selfish.

Thick fingers squelching in a and out of your pussy helped you reach one faster than excepted, clenching down on them and tossing your head side to side as a gush of arousal came from your cunt onto Zoro's hand. He cleaned the fingers off himself, making sure you could see, and also subtly distracting you as he freed his cock from it's confines, sliding it between your folds.

Zoro's hand loosened around your wrists, holding the side of your face as he pushed into you, groaning into a kiss and doing his best not to end his first time with you too quickly. You were grappling onto him, bending to meet his sweaty skin with yours, clawing at the back of his hair as he sunk in inch by inch.

God he was thick, thankful for the prep beforehand, allowing you to relax all the way after he bottomed out. Zoro kept his mouth busy with yours, inhaling into each kiss in time with his thrusts, starting out measured and slow to keep from hurting you.

But you felt so good, so tight and warm, Zoro couldn't help the change of pace and snapping of his hips, holding you tight and close as he stretched you open on his cock.

Everything felt fuzzy, taking a moment to let it all soak in, the sound of his skin colliding with yours, his soft grunts into your neck and the grip of his hand on the back of your neck. You never set expectations with your first time with Zoro, but if you did, they would've certainly been exceeded.

"Shit, oh fuck baby-"

Coming off of your neck to press his forehead to yours, scrunching his entire face, moving his hips faster and faster, giving you the signs that he was close. You whined and locked your ankles around him, grabbing him another kiss as he continued to ram into that certain spot deep inside you, bringing you both close to the end.

Zoro came with a vocal groan, clinging to you with what little energy he had left, sweating even more than before. You came maybe a second after him, shuttering from the waves of euphoria cascading throughout. It took a minute for either of you to move, tired but also relishing in these last moments of having sex together for the first time, cherishing it sort of.

"Here, let me."

After disconnecting from you, Zoro grabbed a rag from one of the shelves in the crow's nest, sitting back on his feet as he gently ran it over the sticky residue on your inner thighs. Leaning back on your palms, you watched, admiring how careful he was being and the diligence behind wanting to clean you completely.

Tossing the rag into the bin, Zoro fell down to lay beside you, using one arm to grab you and lay you across his chest. You squealed delightfully, laughing in time with his chuckle and kissing his lips in a small peck.

"Does this count as getting in trouble with 'that mouth' of mine?"

Quoting him from earlier, watching the way his features softened with amusement and giving a small disapproving shake to your question.

"Nah, you won't have to worry about getting in trouble with me, unless you want to."

Holding the back of your head and kissing the tip of your nose, another chuckle rumbling in his chest and he brought you to tuck your head into the side of his neck, presumably for a nap, a reward for such a rigorous training session.

[navybrat817]

Delivery driver Bucky is a feral lover, right?

Of course he does, nonnie!

Delivery Route

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 600 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), possessive behavior, dirty talk, puns, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: A Moanday treat! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky arranges his route so that your place is his last stop. How else will he have extra time to deliver you his package?

And, yes, he does mean his package. Not the one you ordered.

You’ve learned not to wear underwear during his visits, unless you want him to tear them off. Which he sometimes does when he has you bent over the back of your couch and pockets them for his collection.

As much as he wants to fuck you some days, he’ll taste you first when he has time.

So when you hear him drop to his knees, you don’t even have a chance to ask what he’s doing before you feel the first flick of his tongue. It amazes you how deep it can get, along with his fingers, like he can’t get enough of what belongs to him.

He’ll eat you out until your legs shake and you can’t feel them anymore, the couch keeping you from collapsing on the ground.

“Taste so fucking sweet. Practically flowing out of you like honey. My tongue that good? You need my cock, baby?”

He won’t give it to you until your release is dripping down his chin and it does after the mess you make all over this face.

Your eyes prick with pleasurable tears when you feel the head of his cock against your fluttering hole and you swear you feel him in your soul once he finally pushes in.

When he grabs your hips and pulls you back to meet his rough thrusts, you can’t help but cry out from how good it feels when he splits you in half.

“My dirty girl. Bet you buy shit just so I show up,” he taunts affectionately as you clench around him. “I’m flattered you want my cock that badly.”

“Please,” you beg shamelessly, feeling him throb with the need to fill you up as badly as you needed him to finish inside you..

The animalistic growl he lets out when your release triggers his makes your eyes roll back in your head. “Letting me wreck your cunt. That’s my girl.”

You love how he fills you to the brim. Love how he ruins you.

And how he takes care to clean you up when you’re still coming down from your high, even when he takes a moment to smack your ass for good measure.

The sweet kiss he gives you when he helps you sit nearly brings tears to your eyes.

“Hey,” he smiles, framing your face as you blink a few times. “Not too rough?”

“Never,” you whisper, sipping the water he graciously hands you. There’s a bottle for him, too.

He runs a hand through his hair and you still see a bit of shine on his scruff from your earlier orgasm when he sheepishly smiles. “Maybe I can stop by again later?” He asks, his usual swagger nowhere to be found as his blue eyes fill with nervousness.

Your heart races as you pull him in for another kiss, glad that he wants to visit during his downtime. “Knock twice, okay?”

He smiles, his confidence back in full swing. “I always knock before I stick anything in your slot.”

He chuckles and dodges the pillow before you can hit him.

“You and your puns,” you smile as he fixes his uniform. You don’t know how the fabric doesn’t tear from his muscular frame.

“Perk of the job,” he winks. “Be good until I get back.”

“I’ll try my best,” You tease as he pushes his chestnut hair back.

“You better. Because I plan to give you an overnight delivery.”

You nail him with the pillow this time.

And can’t keep the smile off your face knowing he’ll spend the night with you.

Okay, lovelies! You may go about your business! I don't know where that came from, but maybe this man can deliver more for you lovelies. Love and thanks for reading! Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[sanakimohara]

[ YOU ] PT. 2 B. C.

pairing: chan x fem! reader

summary: Stalker AU

playlist:

warnings: MDNI + NSFW + ANGST + SMUT + KIDNAPPING + STALKING + STOCKHOLM SYNDROME + CNC + MENTIONS OF MURDER + TRAUMA + CHOKING + SLIGHT EXHIBITIONISM

type: full fic / angst / smut / horror

a/n: thinking of putting this one on AO3…also did you guys watch their AMAs performance last night?

“Here, baby. It’s your favorite, just like you wanted.”

Chan’s smile stretched wider as he set the items on the table, his eyes full of obsessive warmth as he watched your every move….

Every expression you made.

Every ghost of a shiver that ran up your spine.

Three weeks into being safe and sound with him, you still hadn’t learned to trust him completely:

To completely twist yourself free from the gut-wrenching fear of him.

What would a man like Christopher Chan Bahng do if you made one wrong move, said one nasty word, or refused one of his heartfelt offerings?

You hadn't the courage to get an answer to the question.

Not yet, anyway.

Sitting there in a kitchen you’d only just learned existed down the hall from the room he’d kept you for the first week and a half felt oddly freeing.

It was one of the few places Chan let you roam around in his part-time abode -and only if he was present when you did so.

“There are rules,” he’d told you the first night, having coaxed you to listen to what he had to say if he agreed to unbind you from the bed and against your better judgment and the prying instinct to make a run for the unlocked door behind him…

You sat idly as he eased into a one-sided conversation.

“You have rules…here…with me,” Chan clarified, smiling small, but his voice still holding twinges of directness. “There’s not a lot, and I know you’ll be able to remember them. Responsible as you are…”

He trailed off, eyes softening on you as admiration clouded them.

That singular stare numbed your nerves in the moment. A blatant indication to you of how long and thoroughly he’d been watching you.

He'd been cataloging your life and all its highs and lows.

Chan knew you were responsible because he’d seen it from afar, observing how dedicated you were to keeping the shop in order when your boss wouldn’t. How you made it a point to check your surroundings every time you ventured from your apartment alone.

Now you realize you hadn't been as vigilant or responsible as you thought.

Chan intended to fix that.

Your heartbeat dropped its pace, slowing to a lowered thrum in your ears as you watched him watch you.

Expectations and boundaries spilled from his lips like all those fleeting compliments he’d given you in the record store.

“You have a beautiful smile. Adorable even…”

“Never leave this room without my permission. Everything you’ll ever need is already here, and if you don’t have it, I’ll get it for you. Just ask…”

“I like your taste in music. It’s refreshing to get someone else’s opinions…”

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you. Always. So I know you’re listening and understand what I’m telling you.”

“Sorry, this may be a little forward of me, but would you like to hang out sometime?”

“You will take care of yourself. Shower, get ready, get dressed, and eat every meal I give you. No exceptions. No excuses, princess..”

“It was nice to meet you, pretty girl. I’ll give you a call later! Oh, and thanks for the help..”

“I’m doing this for your good, Y/n. All you have to do is listen…don’t think… listen to me.”

Rules.

Sweet nothings.

They mixed when Chan spoke, blending as you swallowed the urge to sob aloud while he eyed you from the edge of the bed. “Tell me you understand what I’ve said, sweetheart.” The blonde tilted his head, voice warm but expression void of lenient compassion for the pain etched across yours.

Your tongue felt drier at the moment, your head spinning, and your blood cold as you refused to speak to him.

Chan’s eyes narrowed an inch; his slight change in expression made you withdraw.

“I said tell me you understand.”

Your lips parted before you could pull your subconsciousness from the grips of instinctual survival. “Y-yes I under…under..stand…” you croaked quietly, curling in on yourself when he let his lips settle into a minuscule smirk.

“Good girl… learning so fast already…”

A knot of pure hatred mixed with an unfamiliar emotion twisted in your chest upon hearing him casually utter such a demeaning phrase.

It still rang in your head every time he was near you. That same unnamed gut feeling rooted itself in your core with each day you remained entangled in his version of contentment.

Trapping you in his sick and twisted version of a happy home.

A happy life with him and only him.

Chan sat next to you at the kitchen island, twisting his barstool to face yours. He pushed the familiar brown bag and plastic cup to you, inching closer.

“…. Just for you, like I promised.”

You didn’t move, frozen in place by practiced stubbornness and conflicted with your thoughts as you stared at the treat you’d been craving for what felt like half a lifetime…

But if you were doing your math right, counted the hours he was away, and constructed them into the time he spent with you, then that meant…

It’d been three Sundays since he’d taken you from that brick alleyway.

Three…long…tense…suffocating, and confusing …weeks.

The air under your nose wafted with the crisp tinge of warm pastry puff and strawberry filling. Your eyes settled on a dollop of whipped cream melting into the drink.

Your mouth watered, having been stripped of anything overly sweet for weeks, all thanks to Chan’s intentional and well-balanced meals for you.

What he ate, you ate.

The same went for almost anything else you’d experienced in his care.

What he laid out for you to wear, you wore.

What he watched, you watched.

What he said, you obeyed.

Weeks of falling into a nearly sunless state of compliance, unsure of how to feel about it, and even more affairs of becoming entirely comfortable with it sent your mind into a leveled frenzy.

You were beginning to feel odd…

Longing to hear Chan’s keys jingle from down the hall, and his footsteps echoing closer to the locked door of your room, rather than fearing the sounds.

You looked forward to seeing him after hours of being kept alone in a room with only a stack of books to read, a pad of paper and pen, and a strange amount of various stuffed animals to keep you company. Once or twice, you caught yourself beginning to smile when you saw him slip into your room after unlocking it. He greeted you every time, inviting you out of the room for two hours until dinner -which promptly occurred at 10 PM every night.

A twisted sense of security wrestled itself into your psyche. Your heart switched between racing in fear and slowing from unconscious infatuation. Your breaths came easier, and your body relaxed a tad more in his presence.

It was…

Alarming.

So much so that the moment Chan stopped mid-step on his way out of your room for the night before to ask you a question, your sensible train of thought nearly reignited.

Unfortunately, that trickle of sense fizzled back into a fog of conscious paralysis, hearing his voice envelop the room.

“Anything in particular you want tomorrow?”

You swallow hard, slipping underneath the heavy duvet before answering him quietly.

“What..? What do you mean?..”

That is a fair question.

Chan didn't blame you for asking it and was unsure whether to proceed with his offer.

But the pure, unguarded curiosity in your eyes and expression made him continue. “Is there anything special you’d like to have?..” he clarified.

You still said nothing.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before showing a tender smile as if he’d become embarrassed of having to explain his sudden thoughtfulness.

“Think of it like a gift from me to you, princess. Something special since you’ve been so …”

He paused, eyes lowering from your face for a moment, momentarily distant as they settled on the cover pulled over your knees and to your chest.

The straps of the cream-colored chiffon night dress he’d picked out for you that night lowered from your shoulder as you shifted, waiting to hear the rest of his reasoning, and Chan reluctantly drew his gaze back up to your face.

“Good for me…” he clarified under a heavy breath, glad the door partially hid the hardening in his crotch from your wandering eyes.

“I can have..anything?” You pried for options, having narrowed the most apparent forms of escape or attempt at communication with the outside world out of the realm of possibilities.

Chan was an intelligent man.

A highly intuitive one at that.

A man who paid attention to the most minor details. Obvious or not.

Getting anything past him felt like running into a cement wall and hoping it’d eventually vanish and let you pass.

It wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

When you caught his slow nod of approval at your question, you decided that asking a small, harmless question would be a safe decision.

“I want something from the cafe….please…the one I used to. “

“Yeah, no. I remember which one it is, sweetheart….” Chan cut into your response, mind wandering to dangerous places, watching you sink further into the corners and set your doe eyes on him as you did.

It’s sickened him to some degree how hot his blood ran seeing you vulnerable and comfortable all at once in his presence.

There wasn’t a chance in the world he’d be able to keep his hands off you for another week if you kept affecting him this way. Chan purposefully attempted to avoid the feeling, but there was only so much he could do before everything you did affected him.

Called to him…

Begged for him…

God, he wanted to hear you beg for him…

Scream for him…

Chan sucked in a quick breath, head leaning on the doorframe as he shut his eyes and mumbled back to you, “I’ll bring you something from there in the morning. Night, princess..”

And then he was gone again.

You slept a little easier last night, hoping his gesture of intentional goodwill was a sign he was starting to regret his actions. Still, now that hope died in your chest, seeing the pure content on his face as he observed you tentatively reaching for the pastry and latte he'd brought back just for you.

Chan was never going to feel guilty.

Not when everything was perfect between you, especially for him.

The pastry melted on your tongue, warm and sweet but barely easing the weight in your chest, sensing Chan’s gaze on you. Every bite you took was less and less soothing, hardly washed down any more accessible with the few sips of cold caffeine you took between each one, but you refused to give him any more signs of your distress.

If you did, it always seemed to go straight to his head.

Chan fed off of it.

You’d learned that much about him in less than a week.

Despite his constant attempts at heartfelt kindness, your fear of him was his fix.

What a sick bastard…

You swallowed the last bite of the pastry as the thought crossed your mind, crumpling up the parchment it was wrapped in before dropping it into the bag but leaving the half-full cup alone.

“Thank you,” you forced a smile, hints of genuine gratitude coaxing the pleasant expression onto your face, but it was short-lived as Chan shook his head. “Finish all of it,” he instructed, nudging the cup closer to you without glancing at it. “Don’t waste what I give you…”

You stiffen in your seat, “I’m fine. I've had enough, really-“

Your lips immediately pressed shut when he stood, closing in on you until your head lulled back to keep him in your sight. Chan stared down at you, right hand raised to brush across your cheek, and the left picking the latte up from the counter. Every nerve you had spanned to life, chills rising on your skin as he invaded your space and fixed you in place with a void glare.

Chan exhaled slowly, reducing the anger he felt when you refused his demand and replacing it with a controlled ease. “I took time out of my day to get you something special, and I expect you to appreciate it. Open up…” his hand falls to cup your chin, grip tight and promising. You swallow hard, eyes dilating with anxiety as he applies more pressure, progressing until you utter a whine of pain and let your mouth fall slack. “Atta girl…” Chan praises under his breath, caging you in the seat and easing the drink to your parted lips.

Your stomach drops, feeling helpless as he forces you to gulp down the remaining half of the cold caffeinated drink. Your legs twitch and shift between his, nails clawing at the sheer stockings covering your thighs underneath the sweater you wore, and your breaths struggle to remain constant as the liquid pours down your throat and from the corner of your lips.

His hold on your jaw is painful but not as tortuous as the thoughts racing through your mind as you peer up at him through teary eyes.

It hurts, but it feels so…

Why won’t he stop…? Do I want him to…stop?…

You choked as the last drops of the latte drizzled onto your tongue, gasping for air quietly as he released your jaw and tapped your cheek gently. A phantom of pain blooms on your skin, disappearing seconds after the tender slap occurs but snapping you back to reality to hear him speak.

“I need you wide awake for me today. Can’t have you looking too tired when Bin comes over for a visit.”

You stare at him, half dizzy and confused, hearing him mention another’s name.

He hadn’t mentioned his friends, family, or acquaintances before…

Though your throat still burned and your eyes had yet to un-blur completely, you asked, “W-who’s Bin?”…”

Chan smiled, gently kissing your nose since you weren’t in any shape to reel away from him like you had before. Your face warmed from the gesture, your heart fluttering a bit as the distinct feeling of his lips brushing your skin was mildly delightful.

“He's a good friend of mine. Someone I work with often, too. I think you’ll like him a lot.”

Your lips twitched into a timid smile, a mix of relief and desire hanging over your head. “I…I can't wait to meet him. " You shifted around, swiping the back of your right hand across your damp lips to wipe away the coffee left on them and swiftly cover the vague happiness that begged to show itself.

Maybe this ‘Bin’ could be your way out of all of this - a saving grace from the hell you were beginning to settle into.

“Good. Now, get cleaned up. He’ll be here soon.” Chan lifts you from the chair, steadying your drowsy weight against him for a moment before you give him a solemn nod and carefully step past him. An array of ideas starts to cloud your head, gathering traction and precedence over any other thought you have, but they're shattered to pieces when Chan calls out to you from the kitchen.

“Y/n..”

You freeze, hand pressed to the corner of the hallway for support as you peer at him over your shoulder.” Yes?...” you breathe out, uneased by the pleasant smile he flashes you before leaning against the center island. " Don't try anything cute when he's here. Asking for his help won't change a thing.”

“I won’t…”

God fucking damn it-

The sound of another’s voice from down the hall catches your attention, melting into laughter and warm words toward your captor a moment later.

‘Bin’ must be here…

You sniffle at the realization, dabbing the damp white cloth over your mouth several times before rinsing and wringing it out into the bathroom sink. Droplets of caramel coffee swirled down the drain, disappearing like your will to escape began to. Chan’s warning to you was a simple threat—a nicely put one but still a promise of consequences to your preemptive attempts for escape.

A lump settled in your throat as you stared in the mirror above the sink, silently trying to convince your reflection that everything was fine.

That you’d find a way out of this soon.

You wanted to believe the determination written across your features would remain, but it consciously vanished when you quietly stepped out of the bathroom and down the dim hallway. You came to a stop at the hall's edge, peeking from behind it to glimpse at the man Chan seemed to be enjoying a conversation with.

He had black hair, and he was around Chan’s height, too, but a bit more muscled than him. And he sounded pleasant, but by now, you’d learned that assuming a stranger's length of kindness by their words was never a good idea.

With pursed lips and a soft gulp, you shifted to hide behind the corner again, unnerved by the prospect of meeting anyone who took to Chan’s company and afraid of having to endure meeting them yourself without the chance to beg for their help to get away from him.

“Shff..*

Your stockings brush along the floor, catching Chan’s attention and bringing his conversation with Changbin to a sudden halt. He glanced at the corner you hid behind, watching Changbin do the same before saying anything. “Baby, come here. Could you introduce yourself to my friend? Don’t be shy..”

You swallow a groan, peeking around the corner again as if he hadn’t caught your presence already, “H-Hi…” you greet the man sitting across from him in the living room.

Chan shakes his head, eyeing you intently. “Don’t be rude, princess. Come out here and meet him.” Changbin laughs, smiling warmly as he shifts in his seat to see your hidden form better. “I swear I don’t bite:” he joked.

Oh…

He seems harmless, but still...

Your heart jumps with a sense of joy you thought had been snuffed out weeks ago. Warmth floods your cheeks, and seeing him stretch out a hand for you to shake is an added sign of goodwill from him.

“Okay…” you mumble, slipping from the hallway to tentatively shake his hand before repeating your greeting upfront. “Hi.”

Changbin chuckled, his brows raising a bit. “I’m Changbin, and you are? " He seemed genuinely intrigued, glancing between you and Chan before the latter cleared his throat.

“Bin, this is Y/n, the girl I told you about…”

“Oh,” Changbin grinned, holding your hand longer than needed as he stared up at you. “She is cute. No wonder you talk about her so much. " He met your lowered eyes, offering a warm smile you barely returned before retracting his hand from yours. “Wait, how long did you say you’ve been together?”

Chan sighed, shrugging at the question despite knowing its exact answer.

Three weeks, sixteen hours, and forty-three minutes is how long you’d been trapped in his sick fantasy.

He’d been counting every second, and now you were, too.

“Six months next week, Bin.”

“And you've already moved in with him? Must be love at first sight…” Changbin looked between you both, ignoring your aversion to looking at Chan directly or oblivious to the tension between you two.

You didn't answer him, lips pressed shut, and your hands nervously twiddling behind your back. Chan answered for you, rising from his spot on the couch to pat Changbin’s stout shoulder as he came to stand by your side. “Must be. Right, sweetheart?” The skin of your lower back gathers goosebumps, feeling his hand firmly plant itself there, thumb tracing the trial of your spine as he eases you closer to him. Your tongue falls flat in your mouth, your body weak and tense all at once from the weight of his touch. Afraid to use your voice without letting out an unseemly sound, you give a gentle no, eyes fluttering between Changbin and Chan, who smile at your silent agreement.

“Are you always this quiet around strangers?” Changbin chuckles, and you embarrassingly shake your head, pressing against Chan’s side as he speaks for you. “Or maybe you're just really loud,” he retorts, inwardly brimming with pride, feeling your body shift towards his for comfort.

Finally.

You were learning to trust him.

To depend on him.

Changbin rolls his eyes, his mouth ticking into an unaffected smirk. “I'm the right amount loud. Otherwise, your tracks would only get so far.” Chan’s body goes rigid at the teasing jab, startling you when his grip on your lower back shifts to your hip to knead the soft skin. You whine quietly as his fingertips bare down on the muscle. The hold grounds him but unnerved you.

He was upset.

That much you could tell, but Chan didn't let anger cloud his features, shrugging off Changbin’s usual innocent jabs at him, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Bin. “

Said man huffs, staring at Chan for a few seconds before returning to you. “Want to join us for a little bit? I know Chan says you like to spend your free time alone doing your own thing, but since you're here-”

“I’d love to!” Your mouth moves before your mind computes a careful response, growing into a sheepish smile as Changbin laughs at your impulsive reaction. Conversely, Chan seems stiffer by the second, not angered but vaguely displeased.

You ignored it, forcing your nerves to settle despite feeling the air around him thicken with masked tension. “So, what were two talking about earlier? From what I heard, it sounded like a fun conversation.” You smile at Changbin, hoping he'll see the desperation hidden in your eyes as you slip away from Chan and hurry to sit beside him on the sofa.

You're too close to him.

He's too close to you.

That's your first strike, and you don't even realize it.

Chan makes no move to point out your blatant mistake, either. His expression slips into a hardened glare as the two of you converse without him. His eyes burn into the side of your head, fixated on every fluctuating reaction you have to Changbin.

The spark of yearning that returns to your pretty eyes as they focus on him.

The gentle nods you give while he speaks.

How you are a bit closer to him when an intriguing topic extends itself.

Every little thing begins to irritate Chan.

You'd been huddled close to him only a minute ago like a trapped mouse, scared of a stranger and seeking his protection...

And now, here you are, eating up anything and everything his Changbin did or said.

Ungrateful.

Disrespectful.

A little liar is what you were.

Chan couldn't look past it, even as the hours ticked by. He joined in the pleasant conversations that dwindled into laughter over several shared take-out dishes, but he refused to give you the benefit of the doubt any longer. Barely tempering his envy of the attention and comfort you shared with Changbin when he'd done everything for you to earn such things for himself.

So ungrateful.

So fucking needy for another man's attention…

Chan counted down the seconds until Changbin’s phone rang half past one in the morning, vibrating on the glass coffee table you sat in front of with him.

“Hold on. Let me get this real quick,” Changbin said, snatching his phone from the table. He offered you a kind and apologetic smile to make up for shortening your moving conversation. “It's okay,” you mouthed, hands raised to wave off his unneeded reasoning as you watched him stand up to take the call in the hallway. Changbin ruffled his free hand through your hair, giving a silent ‘thank you’ on his way out of the room, flashing Chan a cheeky grin as he disappeared around the corner.

You stared at the empty spot next to you, still reeling through ideas of how to gain Changhins help or at least convince him to let you use his phone without Chan knowing…

But the blonde hadn't left you alone or taken his eyes off you and Changbin for a second the entire time he was there. If anything, Chan watched you painfully closer, looming like a shadow in every interaction and a little too good at insulating you had a healthy, willing, and established relationship with him.

Even if that was the furthest thing from the truth.

Nonetheless, Changbin hadn't shown any signs of recognizing the reality of your unwanted arrangement. You had no chance to subtly hint at it to him, aware of Chan’s vigilance even when he wasn't directly involved in the friendly exchanges.

You'd more than once caught him staring you down, arms folded over his chest, and his jaw set into a tight angle. A shiver ran up your spine every time you caught the look in his eyes.

How cold those brown irises turned, filling with deepening jealousy.

If you hadn't felt trapped and endangered before…

You felt that way now.

Your gaze refused to shift from the carport you sat on, hands twiddling in your lap as your heart raced a little faster second by second.

“You think I'm stupid, baby girl?”

You immediately shake your head ‘no’ as he speaks under the distant sound of Changbin’s ongoing phone call.

Chan scoffs, his head ticking once, and bites back with a wry smile. “Hm. So, she's a fucking liar too…”

It's a statement—an observation he's made, and you cannot deny it.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, lodged there as you shake your head again and finally set your eyes on his.

“Chan, please...I’m not-“

“Shut up.”

Silence.

The moment his command hits your burning ears, a cold, heavy, and suffocating silence blankets the room. He lets it settle, holding your doe-eyed stare with a sharp glare. “Come here.”

Your hands freeze, tears welling in your eyes, but you blink them away.

Crying never works on Chan.

Never.

Your head lowers as you shift onto your knees and grip the coffee table's edge to stand up, a tremble catching your fingers as the cold glass amplifies the heat of anxiety taking over you.

“No,” Chan seethes out, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees, head resting against his left hand as the right beckons you toward him, familiar veins contracting through them from the subtle gestures he makes.“Crawl.”

You swallow like he's shoved a lead pill down your throat by voicing the command, frozen in thinly veiled hesitancy as he waits for you to follow it.

The last remnants of pride and brimming hope melt away from you, drained out of your body as it shifts back from the edge of the table and onto the floor again. Chan watches you lower down to be on your hands and knees, your soft cheeks dampening with a few stray tears as you crawl towards him with timid caution in every move you make. The heat you feel rises to your face, painting it a solemn red when you settle between his legs. Chan plants his feet, making room for you and quickly locking you in his range.

“Turn around,” he whispers, left index finger making a small circle to emphasize the instruction. Slowly, you shift to face away from him, pleading with an invisible force to ease your panic, unable to see what he will do and anticipate when he’ll do so.

Chan hadn’t raised a hand to you. Not once.

He could be rough, drag, and move you with pointed strength when he felt you needed a firmer guide, but hitting you?

Never.

Him showing any sign of brute physicality towards you?

Never.

You’d begun to realize Chan didn’t need to exert force, always expressing it in his words, expressions, and acts of service rather than using violence.

So, your fear -that swirling and dizzying uncertainty you’d felt for weeks- stemmed from a much deeper and deranged concept your mind had conjured up.

You weren’t afraid of Chan.

No…

You were terrified of just how far and how many demented things you’d be willing to let him do to you…

Even if he’d cornered you into them.

Forced you.

You wanted him to do that on a certain level of consciousness. To give up fighting his insistence on loving you his way and bask in it for as long as he’d let you.

You’d begun dreaming about it day and night. Constantly fantasizing about him when you should hate him with every breath you take.

God, you wanted to hate him, claw at him, make him feel the pain you felt sitting alone in the room he kept you locked away in.

But the moment Chan’s breath spanned the nape of your neck, warm and slow as he breathed you in from behind, your head was empty of malicious intent towards him. All you could focus on was him: the smell of his cologne, the heat from his body, and the quiet hum of his satisfaction that seeped straight through your reddened ears down to the space between your legs.

His voice alone made you ache in a way you refused to acknowledge.

You pressed your thighs together, praying the steady pulse in your core would vanish if you tried hard enough to hide it.

You should’ve known better than to hope for any small triumph of self-control being near Chan because the second he saw you tense up and circle your hips, he tugged you back into him.

His left hand grasps the tousled hair at the back of your head, pulling and twisting, while the right grips your throat. A soft gasp of pain and moderate shock left your lips as he reared your head backward with a rough force on your hair, muffling the surprised sighs you let out by pressing the pads of his fingers directly against the nerves of your neck. Chan left you no choice but to inhale sharply through your nose, eyes trained on the twists and turns of your expression while his own remained inches wholly and away stoic.

You clawed at his right hand on intuition, longing for the burning need for air to settle into your lungs. Helpless abs, afraid of your excitement, you struggled against his hold on you, eyes shut tight when he choked you harder and grazed his nose along your cheek until he reached your ear. His lips pressed into a smile, lingering over the sensitive skin as he spoke to you. “I don’t want to hurt you…but,” he exhales, something kin to a groan falling from his mouth before he continues, “…I can’t keep letting you get away with this, baby girl.”

You shudder, stifling a frustrated whimper as Chan places a chaste kiss on the tip of your ear, nuzzling your head with his own as his proper slips under your ankle and forces it apart from your left one—immediate defiance courses through you being put into a new, compromising position.

Held tight against him, barely able to breathe, and legs now spread for him to see what you’d been trying to hide for nearly two weeks.

Clear evidence of how badly you wanted him.

How far you’d fallen into craving him.

Your heart stopped dead in its tracks as cool air enveloped the forming wet patch on your sheer rose pink underwear, barely hidden under the hem of your skirt. Chan whistled lowly at the sight, staring down at the evident mess you were making of yourself.

“Get a look at that, Princess…” he taunted you in a daze, watching your hips twist and buck as you tried to close your legs again and break away from him, but Chan held you steady the more you fought him.

The tears you fought so hard to hold back began to slip past your flutter lashes, dampening your burning cheeks and drizzling down to coat the veiny hand, practically suffocating you. “No…stop…I-it’s not…“ you stumbled to find an excuse, something to say that’d convince him and yourself that your arousal wasn’t natural.

But it was.

And it was thriving by the minute.

Chan bit into his lower lip, glancing over at the corner Changbin had yet to come walking around.

You could faintly hear the other man still speaking to whoever had called him but instantly pushed his princes to the back of your mind, hearing Chan’s voice melt through the air around you. “What am I going to do with you, pretty girl?” He muses, formulating answers to his question while you shiver at its implications. “You’ve been so good, too..” his praise warms your core, numbing your mind as he builds upon it.

“Doing whatever I tell you…” Chan smiles, gaze trained between the hallway entry and your vulnerable position. “Treating yourself better..”

You whine at that, feeling picked apart and full of yourself all at once by him.

“Being the good girl I knew you could be for me,” Chan mutters, his voice warm as new honey and his hand slowly shifting downward in your hair.

Past the nape of your neck, over your shoulder, down to your chest. You tense under his traveling touch, unconsciously arching up against the palm of his heavy hand as it gently kneads your left breast before attending to the right in the same manner.

Your head leers into his shoulder relaxed against the tight muscle he keeps hidden by a black shirt. A soft moan escaped your lips as they parted to attempt to catch a new breath, muffled by the crook of his neck as you inched closer to him the longer he shamelessly groped your chest.

Chan tongued his cheek, feeling your breathy moans fan over his skin, sending rivers of heat down his back, urging him to slip his hand under the hem of the lacey white camisole you wore. “I was so proud of you, baby girl…” he chuckled, eyes cutting towards the hall again before he pushed the half excuse for a shirt up above your perked breasts. You flinched, startled by his intent to fully expose you when his friend was just down the hall, but Chan wasn’t the slightest remorseful or cautious as he palmed your chest. He took his time, thumb rolling over around each of your nipples, slipping to knead your stomach when you arched for more.

“So…so proud,” he mumbles, studying the quick rise and fall of your chest as you try to breathe normally, hands moving to grip your forearm and wrist for a sense of support as he tortures your resolve. “Chan…Chan…please… sorry…I..” you give up speaking, too all over the place mentally to get a coherent sentence out, and ready to accept your fate in any way he gave it to you.

“But I guess even the best of girls need a little reminder, yeah?” Chan peers into your eyes, smiling softly and vaguely playful, but his tone is the furthest thing from it. You shake your head, brows knitting together in desperation. “No!” Chan, please…please, I promise…I’ll be good… I-I promise..”

Your pleading sinks into the room in hushed whispers, scarcely heard by anyone but him, and you watch his expression soften hearing it.

Was that…

Pity…?

Guilt?..

You couldn’t quite place the look on his face as he stared at you, but seconds later, it vanished, replaced with a smile you knew meant nothing good for you.

“I wish I could believe you, baby. I do, but you’ve earned exactly what’s coming to you.”

Chan exhales slowly, letting the hand he has splayed across your stomach inch further down to firmly cup your covered cunt and press his palm against the patch of cum spreading in the thin fabric covering it. You gasped loudly at the contact, hoping Changbin didn’t hear the lewd sound as it dwindled into a low whine.

Chan soaks in your visceral reaction to being touched indirectly, pressing his middle and ring finger into your underwear until he can feel the warmth of your cunt cover then and leak with pent-up arousal. You bit back a strangled scream at the intrusion, reveling in it and greedily rolling your hips forward against his hand for more. The tips of your toes curled through the thigh-high socks you wore because he seemed to like seeing you in them.

Your legs fell further apart, trembling with pleasure as he pumped his thick fingers into your fluttering cunt, soaking them and your ultimately useless panties in cum, and only stopping when the sound of Changbin’s footsteps came from down the hall.

Chan huffed, openly disappointed by the oncoming disruption but content with the state he’d put you in.

“The minute he leaves, you’re mine.” He groans into your ear, releasing you from his hold and readjusting your skirt and shirt before he helps you sit up straight. You blush, rightfully speechless, while he runs a hand through your hair to fix it just as Changbin rounds the corner.

a/n: I have such an intense migraine and it’s killing meeee

other links: n/a yet…

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

Sluttiest thing this man has ever done is that dammed teaser skit with that obnoxious ass stare and deep voice combo. He looked way too fine with that mask on and he knew it!!! 🖤 credits to creator!

[short-honey-badger]

Cramps and Cream Pies

hellooo my JJk ladies. This may be a bit niche, but I am currently on my period and couldn't get my mind off Dead Beat Dad Toji. He's just too fine. Anyway! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings! SMUT. Period sex but it's not graphic. Shower sex. Vomit is mentioned. It's Toji. He's nothing but a red flag. Breeding Kink too.

@goth-mami-writer who giggled with me over the title ❤️

Fushiguro Toji could hear you retching from where he was lounging on the couch. It was your time of the month, and it seemed to be hitting you harder than usual. He usually wouldn’t bother with helping you, or even asking if you needed anything, but listening to you cough and groan made his chest feel tight and guilt eat at his black heart. He sighs loudly and rises from the couch when he doesn’t hear any sound coming from the bathroom after a while, worrying for his girlfriend making him move his lazy ass. 

Toji finds you curled on the floor, arm tight around your abdomen, and a pitiful expression painted on your pale face. He leans in the doorway, crossing his arms and giving you a look of sympathy, even if his words do not match his expression.

“You look like you feel like shit.” 

He is rewarded with a glare, though it’s less effective than a wet kitten. 

“Thanks, Toji,” You sneer and roll over with a groan, not wanting to look at the asshole you call a boyfriend.

“Thanks for stating the obvious.” 

The elder Fushiguro huffs and rolls his eyes at you, and then shoves off the door frame to kneel by your side. He slides a hand into your sweaty hair, blunt nails gently scraping along your scalp. You sigh and press into the touch, finding comfort in the surprisingly sweet action. 

Toji rolls his eyes at you again and slides his hand away after a moment. You whine at the loss of his touch but are soothed soon after when your lover scoops you up in those thick arms you love so much and cradles you close to his chest. You shove your face in the crook of his neck and focus on your breathing instead of the feeling of your insides twisting into a pretzel.

“Poor babygirl,” Toji coos softly and kisses the side of your head. He holds you up with one arm and reaches for the shower faucet, flicking it on and turning the knob to your preferred temperature. He checks the water after a moment and then carefully sets you down. 

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up so you don’t smell gross, anymore.” 

You pout at his mean teasing and undress as quickly as you can. You can’t deny that the hot water feels amazing when you step under the spray, and your shower gets better when Toji joins you moments later. He curls an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, his big hand splayed along your lower stomach. His other hand curls along your hip, and Toji presses his face against yours. 

Toji holds you for a while, but he is a simple man, and having you all wet and pressed against him has the mercenary’s cock swell with blood. Toji is shameless in the way he grinds against you, dick pressed into the small of your back. 

“Ya know, I heard that sex can help with those cramps. Lemme fuck you, baby,” The elder Fushiguro growls in your ear and the hand on your hip slips further around, fingers easily finding your clit and pinching the sensitive bud meanly. 

“Gah! Shit, Toji~,” You hiss his name, head falling back to rest against his chest. You open your eyes and find your lover gazing at you, green eyes half-lidded and full of desire. You nod once, easily giving in to the dark-haired man when he puts just enough pressure on your clit to make your legs tremble. 

“Mhmm. You’re such a good girl, baby. Gonna feel so good wrapped around my cock,” Toji mouths at your ear, teeth catching the lobe and nipping it harshly. He nudges your feet apart, dropping the arm that he has around your waist so that he can push you forward and down at the waist. He grabs his cock, guiding his length forward to slide the fat head of his dick through your folds. 

Your hands find the shower wall, holding yourself up as Toji parts your pussy and bullies his way inside your cunt. Your lover is thick, so the stretch is a bit painful, but it only enhances the pleasure that Toji gives you. He lets you adjust for only a second before he starts up a brutal pace, cock dragging along your walls and relieving that awful pressure that has bothered you all day. 

Toji grips your hip, fucking you back on his cock as he grits his teeth. You are tight, feeling like molten lava around his dick, and Toji never wants to leave. He leans down, lips finding your ear as he snarls filthy promises into your ear. 

“I’ll make sure that you miss your next period, yeah? You want that, Mama? You want me to fuck a baby in you?” 

You nod franticly, your body on fire as your orgasm finally crests and shatters through you. Your wall constricts, squeezing his cock like a vice, and Toji curses loudly, the suddenness of you coming dragging him down with you. You milk his cock, hungry for more, and your lover eagerly gives it to you, grunting and hissing like a damn animal until his spent dick slips from your puffy folds.

You feel much better, your insides and womanly bits having settled down for now, and the two of you catch your breath, only yelp when thick fingers find your clit, rubbing harshly and causing you to jolt forward. You turn and look at Toji, feeling dread well up when you catch the wicked look on his face. He pulls you in close for an awkward kiss over your shoulder and then reaches behind him with his free hand to adjust the cooling water.

“You didn’t think I was done, did you baby?” He rumbles and smirks against your mouth, “You’re wrong if you don’t think I’m not going to stuff you full.”

[writemekpop]

Bad Girl | Jung Jaehyun

Summary: Jung Jaehyun is the first guy you’ve ever met who isn’t attracted to you. You’re determined to seduce him. 

Genre: Enemies to lovers AU

Word Count: 1.5k

As you walked into the first play rehearsal, you felt your heart stutter. 

A painfully hot guy was standing by the cast-only coffee table. He was tall, statuesque, in a long black coat and glasses. His chest strained at the fabric of his white shirt, as if his stiff body couldn’t be contained.   

"Hey, you must be Jung Jaehyun," you said, looking up at him through your lashes. Now, you just had to wait for him to start drooling - guys couldn't resist you. 

"Afternoon," Jaehyun said. He barely glanced at you. Was he gay or something? "Thank goodness you're here, we're out of tea." 

You blinked. "Sorry…I’m your co-lead? I play Margot Warner, your character's wife?" 

He stretched out his hand to shake yours, stiffly. "Apologies - I thought you were the coffee girl." 

Damn it, even his cold stare of indifference was sexy.  

"Let’s start with the argument scene," the director said. 

You and Jaehyun took centre stage. "Does my gaze make you feel nothing?" you breathed, looking into his eyes. "My touch?" You twined your fingers in his heavenly soft hair. "My kiss?" 

Standing on your tiptoes, you squeezed a kiss to his lips. They were cool as marble. 

Jaehyun stared into your eyes. Now, overcome with desire, his character was meant to tear the buttons off your shirt and pull you close, just as the lights dimmed. 

But Jaehyun stepped away from you. "Time out!" He sighed. "I just cannot understand what my character sees in hers. Why does he suddenly give in?" 

The director nodded. "He’s right. We need some chemistry here, guys! This is… PG-13 at best.” 

Jaehyun looked at you. "Listen, you may have never seduced a man, but you are going to have to pretend. That is of course, what actors do." 

You could just strangle him. Never seduced a man?  Jaehyun thought he was so much better than you, with his stupid little theatre degree from Harvard. 

You didn’t need a fancy degree to be a good actor. Plus, you could eat Harvard boys for breakfast - and you had. You’d tasted half the football team, in fact. 

Four hours later, you still hadn’t got the scene. 

The director looked like he'd had enough. "Sort out the chemistry by tomorrow, or I’m firing one of you. Which one do you think I should fire?" 

"Him!" you said, at the same time as Jaehyun snapped, 'Her!" 

You stormed up the stairs of the auditorium to get your bag from one the seats. Chemistry problem. Bullshit. That was like saying Albert Einstein had an intelligence problem. 

"Where do you think you're going?" Jaehyun said. 

A tiny shiver ran down your spine. 

"Are you really going to give up on the scene that easily?" Jaehyun taunted. "I've seen chihuahas with longer attention spans." 

"It’s tough acting against a brick wall," you shot back. 

Jaehyun shuddered. "If I have to teach you how to act, I will. Come here."

You walked over to him. 

"Margot is trying to seduce her husband. Your acting is too unidimensional!" 

"Uni-what?" you said. 

"Obvious! You're playing it too obvious," Jaehyun said. "I can see why that would be a problem for you. The whole Barbie thing usually does the trick with men, doesn't it? With your tight dresses and your… long legs. " He glanced at your body, and quickly looked away. But you’d noticed.   

You smirked. "So you think I'm hot." 

Jaehyun scoffed. "What I'm saying is, you need to play the role with your whole body. Subtle - yet hair-raising." He grabbed your script. "I'll try Margot. Watch and learn." 

Jaehyun stepped towards you. 

On the surface, nothing had changed. But Jaehyun was a different man. His face was flushed, his breaths shaky. His eyes kept flashing to your lips, like it took everything in him not to kiss you. 

"Does my gaze make you feel nothing?" he said quietly, his black eyes searching yours. "My touch?" He twined his fingers in your hair, and you couldn't hide the sound of your breath catching.

Every inch of your skin was alive.

"My kiss?" 

Jaehyun kissed you. His lips were so much gentler than you'd expected. You knew it was just acting, but Jaehyun seemed so into you it made him nervous. His whole body trembled with desire. 

You pulled back, struggling to catch your breath. That kiss was hair-raising.  

Something told you Jaehyun wasn't that good an actor. 

Jaehyun pulled back, his face flushed, a pink cloud of lipstick rimming his mouth. He was biting his plump lips, almost as if he was fighting a smile. "Clear?" 

You smiled. "You've forgotten the end of the scene."

An unreadable expression flashed over Jaehyun’s face. 

“How did it end again?” he murmured, his eyes fixed on yours. 

Your eyes fell to Jaehyun’s lips. “Margot and Lewis find the time to… reconnect.” Your fingers found the opening of Jaehyun’s shirt. “To get to know each other again.” 

Jaehyun gulped. “I thought they hated each other.” You started unbuttoning Jaehyun’s shirt, one button at a time. He shivered under your touch. “Hate and love aren’t as different as you think,” you said. 

You abandoned Jaehyun’s shirt on the seats. His body belonged in an art gallery, a sculptor’s impression of the perfect man. Only, Jaehyun was not still and cold anymore. His chest was rising and falling, his flesh hot. 

“This doesn’t mean I’m giving in,” Jaehyun said. “I still abhor you.” 

“And I still don’t give a damn what abhor means,” you said, smirking. Jaehyun hoisted your leg up against his hip. His lips met yours now, hungrily, no script to lead the way. 

On the couch in Jaehyun's big New York apartment, you smirked down at him, stroking his chest. "How was that for seducing a man?" 

"Excellent work," Jaehyun said in mock-seriousness, trying not to look ridiculous despite still panting. "Highly commendable." 

“You know…” you said, nuzzling into his chest, “if you were so into me, why did you act like a jerk?” “I’m married,” he said.

 You felt a pang of disappointment.   

“Divorced, to be precise,” Jaehyun continued. “Eight years. She was my… my first.” He spoke into your hair now. “I didn’t know what to do with the way I felt about you. I know I’m just a fling to you, but-“ “You’re not,” you said, moving to meet his eyes. He was gnawing at his plump lip, and you smoothed your finger over it, stopping him. “The way I felt last night… let’s just say I don’t get that a lot.” Your voice dropped. “Or ever.” “Are you saying I’m the best you’ve ever had?” Jaehyun said, turning you around so he was hovering over you, wearing a smug smirk.

“You’re gonna have to work a lot harder to earn that title…” you said, fixing your fingers in his hair. 

-- 

The next day, when you returned to rehearsal, something had changed. “You- um, you first,” Jaehyun said, gesturing to the coffee pot. 

“No, really, you,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck. You had no idea how to act professionally now. Should you touch Jaehyun? Smile at him? Ignore him completely?  

You both broke out into laughter.  

When it came to that scene, however, you and Jaehyun fought the urge to rush to the end.  

"Does my gaze make you feel nothing - my touch - my kiss, blah blah blah..." you mumbled, then pulled Jaehyun towards you in a kiss that made you weak in the knees. 

A lot of the director’s throat-clearing later, Jaehyun finally prised you off him, and you stood next to each other. The spotlights were a little blurry – or was that your eyes?  

The director started a slow clap, his mouth ajar. 

"Will these two set the house on fire? I think so!" He walked towards you, lowering his voice. "But really, how did you do it? What's the secret?"

You grinned at Jaehyun. "We were just acting. That is, of course, what actors do." 

—     

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