#them being the best at their respective thing and never getting close to losing until they meet the other…

[ameamedraws]

My piece for @akeshuakeauzine !

Joker is the thief that keeps eluding detective Akechi’s skills, and yet their chases almost look like dances… a dance that gets rough at times, but somehow it never ends in the thief’s capture, no matter how close it might’ve been… Akechi’s affiliates whisper among themselves and wonder why.

It was super fun to experiment with colours like this! This zine has been a pleasure to work on, a really cool event where everyone could join and contribute their own ideas!

The idea of a real detective x real thief AU had been circling in my mind for a while, so I’m happy I could contribute it to this project, everyone’s works are really good so definitely consider checking out the zine! It’s FREE!!! And also formatted like a book so it’s really cool :)

[watchmegetobsessed]

THE HAPPIEST

A/N: happy birthday to our favorite boo!🎉

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: It's Harry's birthday, he is surrounded by his friends, but all he wants is to talk things out with Y/N.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

The room is full of people Harry loves and that is actually all he wished for his 31st birthday. Even though he’s been on a long.stretched break in the past year, it’s still tough to gather all his favorite people in one room, since life didn���t stop for everyone else while he was getting his well-deserved rest after such a hectic period in his life. 

With a drink in his hand he is standing by the bar of the private room of a popular cocktail place his friends recommended for the occasion. It’s spacious enough to fit over thirty people, there are plenty of seats, a private bar so they don’t have to leave the hidden bubble and even a small dance floor was fitted in one corner with a karaoke machine as well. Just the perfect spot for an amazing night. 

Taking a sip from his drink he glances over the rim of his glass and runs his gaze over the room, probably for the fiftieth time in the past hour or so. No matter how many times he tells himself to just relax and forget about it, he simply can’t. 

Though he seems happy and carefree, the people around him have no idea just how frustrating the last few days of thirty were. All because of her.

Y/N was an old friend of Harry’s, they’ve known each other from the times he was still touring with the band. Their bond formed quickly and strongly and Harry could never deny he always felt a little more than just friendship for her, but the time just never felt right. Relationships, work, moving, it felt like everything around them was urging them to stay as they were, right until a few months ago. 

Y/N was visiting Harry in London, both of them eager to spend some quality time together, but one late night talking with a bottle of wine finally blurred the line between them. A more than friendly dynamic started between them and to Harry, nothing has ever felt as right as being with Y/N.

But her last relationship ended quite terribly and she was cautious, which Harry understood and more than happily accepted. They moved slowly, though Harry could feel himself fall harder and harder with every passing day while she stayed just as prudent as in the beginning and he felt like they were out of sync. 

Then a few days ago he couldn’t hold it in any longer and brought it up. All he wanted was just a discussion and to find common ground, to figure out where they are heading, but it somehow turned into a fight. Harry was adamant, wanting to make them official and take the leap while she argued with him to just stay as they are, to which Harry questioned her what they truly were, but she couldn’t answer. 

It ended quite nastily and she just left. Later that night Harry tried to call her, but she only texted him asking for some time to think. Now it’s been two days and the no contact is slowly killing him on the inside, but he is trying his best to respect her will and just hope for the best. He’s been anticipating her arrival all evening, though part of him is not sure she’ll show up at this point. In that case that will be a rather clear message for him about where they are heading. 

Down the drain, he thinks to himself and ignores the ache in his chest at the thought of losing her, because he wouldn’t be losing his lover but a close friend as well, so that would be a double heartbreak for his birthday with a bow on top. 

“Birthday boy! You have to be the first one singing!” someone shouts at Harry and a moment later he can feel himself being dragged towards the karaoke machine. With a chuckle he lets himself get busied, hoping he would stop staring at the entrance. 

A handful of songs later Harry is behind the mic again, attempting to sing a Chappell Roan song he only heard maybe twice before, but someone else chose it for him. He is focusing on the words, laughing along with his friends when he falls out of rhythm because he can’t read the screen fast enough. 

One hand holding the mic, the other one has his drink, he is sloshing it around as he is urging his audience to join the singing. His eyes flicker up from the screen for just one split second, but his stomach immediately drops when they land on a face he’s been looking for all evening. 

Y/N is standing in the back, watching him with a soft smile that has his gut in a clench right away. 

She came.

He forgets about the lyrics, making his friends laugh which snaps him out of his shock and he returns to his performance, but now every time he looks up from the screen he is only looking at her. 

When the song is over they want to keep him for another, but he successfully slips away, but he also loses sight of her in just a minute. As discreetly as possible, he is trying to spot her in the room as he heads to the bar, but she is nowhere to be found. 

Was he just hallucinating? Where could she go so fast? 

He can barely swallow his disappointment as the bartender hands him his new drink, but before he could fall deeper into his self pity, there’s a gentle tap on his shoulder. He turns around and the warmth is instantly back in his chest.

“Happy birthday.” Y/N smiles at him shyly, as if she is not sure what to do or say. 

“Thank you,” Harry breathes, the urge to wrap his arms around her is strong, but he orders himself to stay put and not cross any boundaries. Besides, public affection was part of their argument, since Y/N didn’t want people to get the wrong idea if they saw them physically close. “I uh… I’m glad you’re here.”

Her eyes soften. 

“Me too,” she replies, barely audible. 

“Do you… want to talk? There’s a small terrace at the back, we could–”

“Maybe later. Is that okay?” 

“Yeah.” Harry nods, hiding his disappointment. He would rather settle the weird tension between them, but he doesn’t want to push her too much. 

“Harry, hey!” someone emerges from the side, popping their little bubble. He swallows his irritation and politely greets the new guests, his jaw clenches when he sees Y/N slipping away from beside him. 

At least she is here, he reminds himself. They will talk this out, he just has to be patient. 

For the next hour or so he keeps an eye on Y/N no matter how far they are from each other in the room, wanting to make sure she’s still there. With several mutual friends, Y/N quickly finds familiar faces and blends in pretty easily and though it appears she is not too bothered by their current situation, Harry often catches her looking at him as well. Every time their eyes meet he gives her a soft smile and she always returns. 

At one point Harry is finally left alone at the bar as he waits for his next drink, gaze glued to Y/N from across the room, of course. This time, she is looking back at him just as intently and he can tell her mind is racing about something he wishes to know. He is just about to make a move and get closer to her, hoping to talk to her, but she beats him. 

Surprisingly, she excuses herself from the group she’s been talking to, crossing the room heading straight towards him. His heart is hammering against his ribs, because it feels like something major is about to happen, but right when she is about to reach him a small group steps to him, engaging him in their conversation, ruining her chance of going through with whatever she had in mind. Harry panics, not wanting her to leave, so before she could escape he reaches out, gently takes her hand and pulls her into the little circle.

The touch of her skin against his palm feels heavenly and makes him want more, but he forces himself to let go. His hand falls back to his side, his skin buzzing from such a small touch and he tries to focus on the conversation because otherwise he would be staring at Y/N. 

But to his surprise, a few seconds later her hand slips back into his palm, fingers lacing together with his and she moves closer to him until she is pressed up against his arm. Harry can’t mask his astonishment as he finally looks at her, but his hand closes around hers without a second thought. They look at each other, talking without words, but they are both clear about the message.

Harry can’t hold his growing smile back, which makes her chuckle as well before she hides her face in his shoulder. A moment later Harry lets go of her hand but only so he can circle his arms around her waist and pull her in front of him, holding her tight in his embrace as they join the conversation again, the others didn’t even notice a single thing of what just went down. Y/N happily leans her back against his front, hands covering his on her stomach as their body heat becomes one. 

“Now it’s a happy birthday,” Harry whispers into her ear so only she can hear his words. She smiles, turns her head and gently kisses his lips before he adds: “The happiest.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[gojosatorubrainrot]

Scars don't define you💫

Summary: Gojo starts to feel insecure about your love for him because of his scars

Feat: Gojo Satoru x reader

Content: fluff, mentions of Gojo vs Sukuna fight, reassuring, body insecurities, husband!Gojo x Wife!Reader. Ch 261 doesn't exist lol

Wc: 1121

Author's note: Hi!! I've never thought I will ever be doing this but here we are! Encouraged by my gojo friends in discord to continue this drabble🥰 Sorry in advanced for my poor grammar, English is not my first language 🫡

The Shinjuku incident meant a reborn for the the strongest sorcerer, and you, his wife as well. You almost lost the love of your life by the hands of the King of Curses. At first, you thought everything was over when you saw him laying down on the floor, his lifeless body starting to be covered by the heavy snow storm that had began to fall minutes earlier.

You felt useless, after all, you were a non sorcerer, so,as a civilian, you didn't to have another choice than staying where Shoko and the others were watching the battle being broadcasted.

But its been a long time since that jumpscare and you thanked every existent God and also Shoko for bringing your reason of living back to your arms.

Satoru and you both were laying in bed together, you are running your fingers along his scarred face; each fingertips of yours feeling every single injury of his skin.

As you continue with your doing,he closes his eyes at the softness of your sweet touch, at first, he enjoys it a lot, he always loved the way you did it, always being careful as if he was a glass meant to break, but fear set up on his mind;he thought you hated his scars, that you despise them and  those marks ruined his pretty face, that you wouldn't love him anymore and, eventually, you would leave him alone as everyone did during his life, but this time, he wouldn't have a reason of living because you are his everything.

He doesn't even want to think how a life without in it would be, how alone he would feel again just like he did after Suguru's departure.

When that event occurred, when he was ordered to kill his best friend, he has never felt so useless as a sorcerer, but most of all, as a human being, so that was the reason he chose to stay alone for the rest of his days, to prevent someone from getting hurt by the mere fact of being involved with him. That was his idea until he met you at his favorite kikufuku store. He didn't believe in love at the first sight until he met you nor how does it feel to be in love until you.

you, his everything

He was afraid of losing you again, but now it was because of his appearance, he hated those scars because that meant you won't call him pretty angel or pretty face ever again. On the other hand, they were his reminder of a second opportunity, an opportunity he would take advantage of. His second chance to make things right and spend as much time as he could with you: not spending nights working or on mission trips, only with you, his home.

Now he is debating if telling you or not about his insecurity with his scarred skin, because he thinks you would laugh at this and ignore him, but call him silly for thinking that.

As he thinks about that, he sits up, preparing to get his shirt on. You can see how the mood changed, how an intimate moment filled with love and adoration became one filled with insecurities and non spoken words. He is looking for his shirt to put it on and leave the bedroom towards the balcony, so he can spare his mind off a little bit.

You wonder why he was feeling troubled and why he decided to ignore you and not talking with you as he has always done before. You are hesitant about ask him or not, you always wanted to give Satoru his space, you always respected that because after some time, he will come to you and tell you everything between thousands and thousands sorry for not telling you before.

All you can see now is his scarred back, and your intuition is screaming at you to do something so he could open himself up to you. After few seconds, an idea popped up in your mind; while satoru has his head between his hands, you approached to him slowly trying to not get noticed.

Satoru, who was lost in thoughts, suddenly felt your plump and soft lips along his scared back, giving it small pecs and smooches, replacing your lips with your small fingers tracing every single scar. He didn't understand what you were doing so he let you do so. Suddenly,he feels something he has only felt with you and you only: loved, adored, cherished, he was seen as a human, not a pretty face as he has been called few times, the strongest weapon for the jujutsu society, he was Satoru Gojo for you, your Toru.

He turned his head to where you were tracing your fingers and stared at you: you were focused and determined to make him feel alive again.

His small chuckle made you look up and meet those blue eyes you fell in love with many years ago;

"Hi sweets" he whispered without looking away" What are you doing?"

"Hi Toru" you giggled at that nickname he gave you only when you both were in an intimate moment "Nothing, just admiring your beauty" you responded never looking away from his mesmerizing blue eyes.

"Nothing about me is beautiful, princess" he said defeated. "Look at me" he pointed at his scarred skin, despising it, hating it.

"I'm looking at you, Toru. I'm always looking at you and all I see it's the prettiest, the most caring, loving man that I've ever met" you said putting his face in between your hands "I love you,Toru. If you ever think those scars will stop me from loving you, I must tell you don't me well. These scars are telling me that you are here" you give him a kiss in the tip of his pinky nose "alive, with me in our home"

After yours words, Satoru’s eyes immediately fill with tears, but before you notice, he closes his eyes to stop them and leans his head to your warm and reassuring touch, a warm feeling inside his chest arises.

He feels so grateful with you, you are his everything.You stopped caressing him at the moment he opens his eyes, blue like the ocean itself "I love you, angel" he says at the same time you started caressing the scar across his cheek.

"I love you too, Satoru and remember that you can tell me any trouble or inconvenience you are living through, okay? I'll always love you until my last breath" you said finishing the sentence with a quick kiss, which is immediately reciprocated 

With this Satoru knew that he would never feel alone again.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Treat You Right

Pairing: Clayton Keller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: unwanted advances, men not taking no for an answer, Clayton's involved in a fight.

Summary: You're not dating Clayton Keller, but there's one thing he can't stand and that's a guy not treating you with respect...turns out he hates it enough to fight a guy in a bar after a game.

Notes: All I have to say is i'm in my Clayton brain rot era.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

It's a normal night or it starts that way. Being friends with a bunch of pro-athletes means you're often dragged out after home game wins to whatever bar they decide is best that night. Tonight it's Sunny's, a common choice for the Utah Hockey Club because of the pool table, dart board and the fact that most of the people who come in are old middle age men or contractors. Guys, who might ask for an autograph but not the usual screaming crowd that make it impossible for them to have a drink or two.

You never really had being friends with the lot of them on your bucket list, but Michael had met you when he'd taken his cats to the vets and you'd been there with your own, a fat black moggie called Gremlin who'd fallen in love with Ranger. From that point on cat dates had been a thing because in Kess' words 'you can't separate true love', you weren't entirely sure whether Gremlin loved Ranger or just wanted to lick the other cat bald.

Either way the moment you became friends with Kess was the moment you became friends with the entire team, suddenly you were being asked to events, invited to home games and the celebratory drinks after. It was nice, for the most part you felt like you were their sister, someone for them to look after but also mock, just as much as you made fun of them. You had a little community, a gang, a group where you belonged even if you weren't actually on the team.

The exception to that rule being Clayton Keller...you definitely did not want to feel like Clayton Keller's sister.

It was bound to happen, that you'd have a crush on at least one of the team. It wasn't really your fault, and well, Clay had this way of treating you, all soft and sweet and like a girl, that had you flushing under his attention and preening at any compliment he gave you. You were almost certain it was a one-sided crush doomed to go nowhere and leave you pining after the captain until you settled for some mediocre guy in finance. He was just so nice to you, so sweet.

Still, Clay was half the reason you'd agreed to come out to Sunny's that night. Determined to spend some time with or at least around him. You'd even gone home to change after the game into a nice dress before coming back out again because maybe, just maybe, this would be the night that Clayton Keller realised you were the girl he wanted.

You're waiting for your coca cola at the bar, leaning on your forearms and watching the room from over your shoulder. Kess and Dylan were playing a game of pool in the corner, Kess appearing to be losing based on the glare he was sending Dylan's way. The rest of the guys were sat around their usual table, beers in hand laughing and joking. Your eyes find Clayton like he's a magnet, he's smirking at something O'Brian's said, Tuna probably making some stupid dirty joke or telling a story at the expense of Kess.

"Hey, pretty..." You're pulled out of your people watching by a slurred drawl far too close to your ear for comfort. Your eyes shift to the man next to you, who might have been considered handsome if he wasn't staring at your boobs so blatantly that you suddenly understood what a tasty pastry felt like in a patisserie window. It wasn't particularly flattering.

You shift away from him as much as you can without appearing rude because he'd managed to somehow sneak up on you and get within inches of your ear. Something you're sure he thought was seductive but just made your shoulders tighten and your body tense.

"Hi." You try to keep your tone short, not wanting to encourage the man but hating to feel like you're being unnecessarily rude as well.

"Can I buy you a drink, baby?"

"I'm good, thanks." You gesture at the soft drink your bartender just placed in front of you, thankful that this is your cue to leave and return to the safety of a group of hockey players.

Unbeknownst to you in that moment Marino is nudging Kells with his elbow, chin gesturing in your direction. You look uncomfortable, the way you're shifting away from the man leering at you, practically leaning over you, says enough. Every time you shift away from him, he shifts closer and it's clear to Clayton that you'd rather be anywhere else.

He can't help it, the way it makes his hackles rise, the way his fist clenches tight around his beer bottle as he takes another swig, forcing himself to be cool, to just let you handle it for a moment. It's not like you're dating, it's not like he has any right to storm over there and maybe he's wrong...maybe you're interested in the guy leering down at you like you're a piece of meat. Maybe he's more your type than Clay is.

He doesn't really blame the guy for showing interest. You're beautiful, always, but...there's something about the way you look tonight. Maybe it's that your dress accentuates your hips or the fact that the colour makes your skin look like its glowing...or maybe Clayton is just a little weak for you. That's not exactly a new revelation for him. He's been weak for you since day one.

"Seriously, baby, that's not a real drink, let me get you a real drink."

"I'm good." You stress your point this time, snatching your drink back from the man who just tried to take it off you and straightening to walk back to the guys. Any pretence of politeness dropped because you don't have to deal with this and you aren't going to.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" It's a shift in attitude that you should have expected, you've seen it before, but you don't expect the hand that wraps around your wrist to stop you walking away, your drink spilling as you're jerked to a stop. His hand is tight, uncomfortable so and the situation has gone from irritating to frightening, fear running down you're spine because this strange man has his hands on you.

Your eyes find Clay's almost instinctively, wide and scared but he's already out of his seat and shoving people out of the way with short, sharp apologies as he goes. It's not like he's alone either, half the team are now looking your way, waiting to see if their captain needs any help or not. Looking to see if they need to also step in.

"Get the fuck off me." Still, in the time it takes Clay to reach you you try to shake the man off, glaring up at him like it might help. It doesn't, if anything his grip tightens and he pulls you closer, a hand reaching for the skin of your thigh like he has any right to touch you.

It's that that has Clay seeing red. Going from thinking he'd calmly intervene to storming between the two of you like a bull in a china shop. It must be the surprise of someone intervening that does it, but the man let's your wrist go and Clay's pushing you gently back and out of the way before he's letting a fist fly at the guy's face without so much as a word towards the other man.

"Shit, Clay...What the fuck are you doing?!" All you can do is take another step back, hands coming to your mouth because out of all the guys on the team, Clay's the last one you expect to be starting a fight in a bar with a guy at least a head taller than him.

He doesn't answer you because he's too busy fighting, you're so shocked, so focused on what's happening in front of you, that you jump when Kess brushes your shoulder, pool having been deserted in favour of helping O'Brian and Marino pull the two men apart.

Despite the size difference Clay's winning or it looks like he's winning, you're pretty certain he's broken the other guy's nose and even with a bloody busted lip, he doesn't look winded or ready to stop. Part of you hates it. A stupid display of male pride and dominance that you should not condone at all...another part of you feels a thrill at Clayton fighting on your behalf, at the blood speckles across his white dress shirt, at the bruising on his knuckles, at the way he licks the blood from his busted lip and smirks at the guy sarcastically. Like he's completely and utterly in control.

You're not sure he's going to stop, eyes feral, mouth pursed, huffing like an angry bull when Kess finally has him round the shoulders and starts pulling him away. Tuna doing the same to the stranger. But, Clay does stop, just shrugs Kess off with sharp movements, "I'm fine. He won't be if he doesn't fucking leave though."

It's Tuna that escorts the stranger out of the bar and you're certain the only thing stopping the bar owner from kicking Clay out is the fact he's a local celebrity who brings in half the customers.

"What the hell, Clay?" You're still shocked by the brute display of force from him, not scared, just surprised. You can't deny there's a certain appeal to it. To the way he looks at you as he wipes blood from his chin, how his large hands clench and unclench testing his knuckles for a break. They're just bruised. He's hot...hotter than usual and you kind of hate that you feel that way, like you're setting feminism back 100 years. But, God...

“No one gets to treat you like that, you hear me? No one.” He can't stand it. The entitlement to grab you, the belief that anyone has a right to touch you without permission, to talk to you like that. He's half a mind to chase after Tuna and the guy, to keep going, but he knows he shouldn't...he's already done more than he probably should have. Headlines in the morning no doubt already looking like 'Utah Captain beats local man in bar brawl!'.

"That...you can't just fight someone for being a asshole," You can see Kess gesturing for everyone to give the two of you privacy as Clay steps into your personal bubble. He's still amped up, chest heaving like he wants another fight, lips parted to take in more air. You hate that you want to take a bite out of him, you hate that you want him to take that energy out on you in a completely different way than fighting.

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because...because..." all you can come up with is, "I'm not your girlfriend, Clay...you don't have to defend me."

He looks at you like you're an idiot, the only time he's ever looked at you like that. Like you're daft and it makes you flush with warm embarrassment because why couldn't you think of something better to say.

"No one gets to treat you like dirt. Like a piece of meat. Like he owns you, okay? Doesn't matter if you're my girlfriend or not, men better treat you with respect or they're dealing with me."

"Clay...I get it, you're a woman loving, modern man but..." You're convinced this whole display is just part of his gentlemanly stick, his righteous desire for fairness and justice in the world and nothing to do with you. it would be cute how oblivious you are, if he wasn't so fed up with it.

"And before you start that shit, yeah, I'd defend any woman in here, but I sure as fuck wouldn't be throwing punches over anyone else, baby." Clay runs his hands through his hair frenetically, the strands messy and loose, hat non-existent for once.

You feel like your head is spinning, buzzing, confused because surely he's talking about the fact you're kind of friends, that you're not a stranger. He can't possibly mean...he called you baby? When did Clay ever call you baby?

His laugh is sardonic, disbelieving as he watches the way you stare at him, all wide eyed and confused like he hasn't been trying to flirt with you for the past six months that you've known each other. Like he doesn't try to compliment you every time he sees you. Like he didn't give you his number the very first day so you could meet up. Like he's not totally irrevocably in love with you.

"Do I need to spell it out for you, sweetheart?" He's being a bit abrupt, a little bit mean in a way Clay normally isn't with you. Not quite so soft and he'll apologise for that later but he's still angry about the whole thing and you're obliviousness to his feelings feels like a slap in the face, like he's not good enough for you to even comprehend the idea of something more with. You don't owe him anything, but fuck, he's frustrated with the ignorance of it all.

"You're not my girlfriend, but I sure as hell want you to be and I've been flirting with you for six months and if you're just not interested that's fine, I'll still be in your corner, but I need to know if I'm just wasting my time waiting." This time when you're backed against the bar top by a man, it's by Clay, and it's wanted. He's in your space but with enough room that he's giving you an out, you can slip under his arm and leave at any moment. But you don't.

"You like me?" It's every dream you've had about Clay, every want, rolled up into one. The way he barricades you in on the bar top. The smell of his cologne. The warmth of him. The intense stare of baby blue eyes as he tells you he actually likes you, that your stupid, silly little crush isn't actually as one-sided as you thought.

"Only been flirting with you since the moment we met, baby."

"You've been flirting with me?" You lean back to get a better look at his face, your mouth dropped in shock. In turn he leans back to look at you in a similar manner, eyebrows high, blue eyes blinking in confusion.

"Are you serious?"

"Fuck...I thought...I thought you weren't interested...I thought...I thought you didn't like me back..." You're practically having an existential crisis between his arms because he's just admitted he likes you that he's been flirting with you for months, that all your pining and your moping has been for literally nothing.

"Back?" Clay's smile is starting to grow, the one you adore, all teeth and dimples as he picks up on that one seemingly insignificant word and prods at it. As if that word has put all the frustration, all the anger, all the bad feelings of the night instantly to rest.

"I..."

"Do you like me, baby?" He's all teasing smirks and half-lidded eyes now, leaning back into your space so close that you're chest to chest, nose to nose. So close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. So close it makes you stutter and freeze.

"Clay..." Your eyes dart to all your friends, all eyes on the two of you as you flush warm, cheeks growing supremely hot because fuck, Clayton Keller looks like he's about to kiss you in the middle of a bar with the entire team watching like they need popcorn.

You watch Clayton's eyes flicker to catch the audience watching, the way he takes a moment to pause, to think, whatever impulsive decision he had being put to rest for the moment.

"C'mon..." His hand is wrapping around yours in no time, tugging you along and out of the bar, away from prying eyes as if that isn't just as blatant, just as obvious as kissing you in front of all of them or whatever he might have planned to do. There's part of you that wonders if this might be all some big joke he's about to play, the insecure part, the little girl from your childhood part, that feels like he might turn around and laugh with a loud 'as if!'.

You let him lead you outside, the night air cool against your arms, the sort of chill that makes goose bumps raise on your arms. He doesn't even hesitate before shrugging off his jacket and throwing it over your shoulders, his arm coming to rest there, tucking you into his side like you belong, like its natural for him to do.

You don't speak as you walk, scared to break the silence until you come to a stop a few streets down in front of a shop that Clay had parked across from earlier in the night. No one is around but you and that's what gives him the confidence to push you against the brick wall of the shop, to lean back into your space and ask the question that he never got an answer to.

"Do you like me, baby?" It's more intimate this time, but less pressured. There are no eyes on you, there are no bright bar lights or teammates getting an eyeful. Something about the dimness of the night, the cool air, the feel of his jacket over your shoulders and him, oh him, leaning into your space again, has you answering honestly.

"Yeah, yeah I do..."

There's a silent conversation that happens as his hand comes up to rest against your throat, thumb rubbing against the underside of your chin. He watches you carefully and you try to answer him without words, that you want this, that you really do like him.

Whatever Clay sees must be enough because he's leaning in slow, just slow enough for you to dip out if he's misread the situation, hand tightening just slightly around your throat before his lips are slanting over yours.

It's not a frantic kiss, not forceful or aggressive. He kisses you like a slow dance, like your the sweetest thing he's ever tasted and he's trying to savour it, enjoy it for as long as he can. Lips soft and slow against yours, tongue licking into your mouth unhurried and patient. If anyone is impatient it's you, your hands tangling into his hair and tugging until he groans against you, until that patience breaks just enough for him to start devouring your mouth like he's a glutton for you.

When Clayton finally pulls back from you you're both heaving in breaths, chests bumping against each other and lips kiss bitten. The smile he gives you is so soft, so sweet it makes you want to melt into a puddle, his eyes crinkling as just a hint of his teeth comes out to play.

"Can I take you on a date?" His nose bumps against yours, purposeful in the brush against your own like he can't stand to be too far away from you right now.

"Yeah, you can take me on a date, Clayton Keller."

"Good, cause I really need an excuse to punch the next guy that looks at you funny," He jokes causing you to let out a huff of a laugh, hand escaping his hair to whack his shoulder admonishingly.

"Don't you dare!"

[sh1-n0bu]

I’d like to order some nsfw genshin impact SAGAU stuff:

More specifically, its when the Creator uses a vessel different from Wanderer, their main, and he gets jealous all the time.

So, when they descend on teyvat, one of the first things they do is fuck the jealousy out of him so badly he cant speak. (Yes its overstimulation because MAN…)

♡︎ 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙙 ♡︎

characters: sub!AFAB!wanderer (or scaramouche) x nb!dom!reader

warnings: overstimulation, dacryphillia, jealousy, oral fixation, squirting, fingering, slight cult-ish and religious undertones

notes: hhhh my first sagau smut

kabukimono adored the creator.

how could he not? he was just a mere creation and a vessel of the god of all gods.

the first to tell the poor, discarded puppet of you was niwa. when seeing how everyone in tatarasuna worshipped a being called divine creator, the poor puppet couldn’t help his own curiosity and ask. in response, niwa patiently explained to him how there was once an ancient being. a god of all gods. one who even reigned over the archons, celestia itself. one who created teyvat, blessed it with life and in their weakened state, went to an eternal rest.

kabukimono adored the creator with the hollow remains of where his heart is meant to be. an empty shell filling with fuzzy feelings, smile spreading on his face whenever he goes to pray at your shrine, offerings of small yet precious things left in your altar. he only hoped it would please your soul.

kunikuzushi has secret reverence and respect for the creator.

you took away his friend, his home, his family and yet he still hopes for your guidance. carrying hope in the shape of a small wooden carving that he made, which he clutches closely to his chest.

during restless nights and moments when he feels himself slipping, losing hope, losing sight of loving you — he clutches the wooden carving to his chest. tight, tight to the point it leaves a dent in his pale hand and whispers into it. how he wishes to be in your care. how he hopes that you didn’t abandon him. how he hopes that your loving arms would hold him one day. how you are the only source of life he has.

how all the blood he shed was meant for you. a sacrifice for you. to appease you. to bring you back to teyvat. to see you in flesh.

kunikuzushi has secret reverence and respect for the creator.

scaramouche despises the creator.

you left him. when his own mother betrayed him and left him alone, he was lucky to be found by nagamasa. he was lucky that niwa was kind enough to let him stay at tatarasuna. how you were so cruel that even after all the metal and iron, gold and silver he molded and modeled to make tiny offerings to your altar. how you were twisted to give him small slivers of hopes in the form of niwa and the sick child, yet to take them away.

he hates you. despises you. loathes you. every little altar he sees, he hopes to destroy it. every statue of you he glimpses at, he uses his delusion to shock the old and eroded stone until it breaks and crumbles. oh, how badly he wished to do the same to you.

the sixth of the eleven fatui harbingers won’t even hesitate for a split second to spit on your name even in the presence of the tsaritsa. childe always looks down on him whenever he does. the ginger’s hands twitching, delusion and vision mixing up together as he tries his best to hold himself back from jumping on the short arrogant puppet.

and yet despite it all… scaramouche still clutches the small wooden carving of you. holding it close to his chest as he secretly whispers in his mind how much he wishes to please you. the puppet only hopes all the bodies he piled up would satisfy you, even just a little bit.

wanderer loves you dearly.

he has been wrong this whole time. you were never twisted, never sick in the head nor heart, never wishing to manipulate him, never wishing harm or pain upon anything. you were gentle. loving. every life form you passed by would swoon and sway, hoping to touch you. even touching your clothes or robes would be enough.

when be first got his vision, he heard your voice in his head. it was the same loving warmth that enveloped the traveler. it was warm, gentle, loving but still not fully there. when he protected the traveler and the floating thing, he could hear you cheer for him. for him.

but when an array of shooting stars engulfed the fake skies, wanderer looks up as always. blue ones, purple ones and then he felt it. a certain pull in his chest. like how red strings of fate tugs on your pinky in all those fairytales.

and he follows.

running, running, running — until he eventually reaches an odd place. a clear sky, one that looked real and one that cradled him in a gentle warmth.

“yeeesss!! you’re finally home! welcome home, wanderer!” a voice rings in his head loud and clear. excitement, happiness, elation, joy, pride — all sorts of emotions bubble in him, ready to burst out. but instead it fell down in the form of a tear. a happy tear.

it was you. it was the creator. the all-knowing, all-loving one. and you wanted him! him of all people! and you were happy that you had him!

yet wanderer doesn’t get it.

if you loved him so much, wanted him, pre-farmed for him as you said and even got his signature weapon, why were you using someone else? why use that cocky cryo user from mondstadt? why use his brother who is equally cocky but knows how to keep it hidden? why use that annoying old archon who flaunts that he is your oldest and most devout follower? or even the yashirou commissioner!

was he not enough? was he not strong enough? did you needed to “farm” for his talent materials? if so, no need! he already went ahead and got them for you when you logged out! everything to make him the perfect dps as you called is all there and ready!

strange.

why was your other characters are all either dead or on 1hp when you log in? only wanderer is there — your main — in full hp. standing proud and cocky with the same grin.

——

it’s tough to be a god.

no seriously. all jokes and that damn catchy song aside, it was indeed tough to be a god. especially when all these powerful people who can literally control elements and even gods themselves were worshipping you. how can you be a god of all gods?

well, you found out the answer to that question on one of your earlier days when you got a little bit too curious. all in the form of an ichor bleeding out of your palm that you sliced. and perhaps a bit pressured too. after all, being put on a pedestal for everyone to see and worship and grovel to is hard to deal with. especially when you were suddenly thrown into a world that you thought was only fictional!

but there was also something else that was incredibly, unbelievably, astoundingly hard to deal with was your main. the puppet who was abandoned. the short, sarcastic asshole. but never towards you! he would hate to make you even slightest bit sad or angry.

and yet he does it anyways.

going out of his way to stalk down some poor merchant you like buying things from to buy most of their stock so you won’t visit the merchant’s shop again. picking fights with your acolytes when you show the slightest hint of favoritism. hell, he almost killed childe. but of course, the battle lusted ginger loved the thrill and had asked for more future fights.

which all led to here. him getting his well deserved punishment.

poor wanderer thinking he was all too slick. how he was doing everything behind your back so you wouldn’t know anything. how you would stay innocent to his actions while he goes and picks another fight. but you noticed. every single jealousy inflicted actions wanderer had pulled and orchestrated, you knew.

anyone could walk in right now and see what was happening. anyone of your pathetic other acolytes could walk in and see how good you were fucking him. fingers knuckles deep into his cunt, fucking him so good, so deep.

and dear stars and you, wanderer wanted that. he wanted those pathetic worshippers to see how you favored him above them.

wanderer had lost his sense of self and mind long time ago. the moment you wrapped your hand around his throat to manhandle his tiny body to sit on your lap, his mind was gone. a blank sheet of paper.

the puppet doesn’t remember how many orgasms you’ve wrung out of him but he loved it. he wanted it. he wanted more. he wanted your fingers to fuck him open.

in his hazy mind, lust ridden babbles and overstimulated body, he can feel it. how your other hand is keeping his labia spread open. how you apply pressure around his cunt. how your fingers are squelching into him, creating a filthy wet shlick! shlick! noises.

how your hand keeping his labia open goes to tug on his clit. pinching the bud of muscle as he writhes and screams in your lap. squirting over your fingers again like a common brothel whore. and he loved it. by the stars above, he loved it.

because deep in his most depraved part of mind, wanderer knew that he was a whore. your whore. your common brothel cheap whore. your whore who would spread open his legs for you if you asked for it. who would eagerly finger himself so he can provide you with some sort of entertainment. who would take your hand and guide it inside his shorts, not even bothering to wear undergarments, so he can give you easier access.

he doesn’t remember. doesn’t want to remember how many times he came. when you place him on your own throne, legs propped on both sides on the armrest, his wet, slick covered pussy and hardened sensitive clit for the world to see, all he can think about is how good it feels.

when you get down on your knees in front of him, it feels like a sacrilege. shouldn’t it be him who’s on his knees in front of you, trying and hoping to please you?

yet all of his thoughts fly out the window when your fingers stretch his sensitive pussy open again. fingers hooked on the inside slightly, just enough to open up his inner labia and for you to admire his gaping hole. waiting eagerly for you to claim it once again.

“your gra—aanhg!! grace! grace! your grace!! f-feelsh good. feelsh good feelsh goodfeelsgoodgoodgood ghk—! aammh!♥︎“ the jealous puppet whines and babbles on, your title falling over his lips over and over like a mantra as he drools. mind long gone, sanity on the thin line between delirium and lucidity. struggling to comprehend just what is happening.

he feels your mouth on him. tongue lapping at his juice greedily like an insatiable animal while he struggles to keep his legs open. hand twitching, hesitating for a moment before he grips onto your hair tightly — his only anchor. he can feel everything too greatly.

body sensitive, pushed over the boundaries of his virgin state. he could feel how you suck on his sensitive clit, forcing him to squirt into your mouth.

if this was how you would treat him to stop his jealousy induced rampages, maybe wanderer should do it more often.

[consciouscarrot]

flufftober day 4 - holding hands [ b.hargrove ]

billy hargrove x fem!reader

content warnings; physical fighting (not between billy and reader), angst to fluff, brief mentions of trauma, misogynistic comments (not from billy), seemingly toxic relationships but it’s not actually

notes; all my flufftober fics are turning into angst/hurt comfort, i’m very sorry if that’s not your vibe but i promise it wasn’t intentional

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

the sun was blaring down on you as you sat on the bleachers, heat almost too much as the sound of students’ chatter surrounded you. you were sat with billy and his friends, you didn’t like them very much, you thought they were mean and judgmental, cruel and selfish, only caring about their social status and looking better than everyone else. you hated sitting with them, especially as they were making loud comments at a group of shy freshman girls, causing them to go red in the face and teary-eyed.

you hated it, but billy wanted to sit with them. he’d make the odd comment, just enough to fit in with the group, to seem like he thought the same way as them.

you and billy had been dating for almost 7 months, you loved each other, and you were constantly around one another, not able to bear being apart for too long, but no one knew about the two of you. you’d both decided in the beginning that it was the best decision, not wanting a public fallout if something went wrong, and wanting to keep all things new and exciting to yourselves.

at first, it had been perfect, you’d found sneaking around thrilling, loving that only the two of you knew about your relationship, only you knew about the love you shared. but slowly, you began to tire of it, and around the five month mark, you only felt guilty about lying to your close friends and family, and you hated the attention billy was getting from girls. you saw other couples in public and wanted to be like them, you wanted to be able to say that billy was yours and be able to go on public dates, kiss him in front of people and hold hands in the school hallways.

but, billy wasn’t quite there yet, he wanted those things too, of course he did, but his was holding himself back. he’d worked himself up over the months, mind whirring with self-critical thoughts until his breaths quickened and his palms slicked.

he wasn’t sure how you’d take meeting his father, not wanting you to be disrespected, as misogynistic comments were a common occurrence from the old man.

he was also worried about people saying things about him not being good enough for you, that he was just trying to get in your pants when that was not the case, at all.

and then of course, his familial situation was obviously not the best, and he was terrified of being publicly humiliated like he had been before, scared that once everyone knew about the two of you, that you’d leave him, just like his mom did.

he’s never had anything real and good, like how the two of you are, nothing pure and just for him. nothing so filled with love and kindness and respect. he’s so scared to lose you, scared that you’ll come to your senses and finally leave him. you’re his everything and he knows that things have been going too well for him lately, so now he’s just waiting for what’s going to go wrong.

you tried your best to support him, always listening to his rants or even just holding him if that’s what he needed, but it was getting exhausting for you. you couldn’t go on in this situation for much longer, feeling like you weren’t enough for him to take that next step, anxiety clouding your brain and making you worry whether he’s enjoying the female attention too much, scared that he might be out with someone else on nights where he’s supposedly staying in.

you’d eventually given up on hiding how you felt about billy, now being labelled the obsessed high school girl with a pathetic little crush. it was embarrassing, and you’d hoped it would trigger billy into defending you, into finally revealing his love for you, but he’d just given you a sympathetic look and made some comment about being a one and done kinda guy.

you’d almost broken up with him for that, heartbroken that he could say that to you, that he could let them say those things about you. he’d begged and cried for you to forgive him, promising that he would try and make things public between you.

that had been over a week ago, and you were becoming more and more disappointed, feeling silly for ever believing his empty promises.

carols voice broke you out of your melancholy, shouting some dirty joke to the boys as she shrieked and giggled obnoxiously. you adjusted your legs, uncomfortable on the cool metal, and tried to focus on getting through the last five minutes of lunch.

billy glanced over at you, you smiled softly, not wanting him to worry. you desperately wanted to lay your head on his shoulder, but you don’t think you’d be able to deal with the rejection of him pulling away or making a comment like he usually does, whatever it takes to keep you his dirty little secret.

you broke eye contact first, turning your head away and looking over at a group of your classmates down on the field. you could feel his eyes burning on the back of your head, and hoped that he won’t be too mad at you later. you love him but you really can’t keep things up like this.

you were about to make an excuse so that you could leave when you felt a heavy weight on your knee. nearly giving yourself whiplash, you snapped your head back towards him, seeing his hand on the bare skin of your leg. you lifted your widened eyes to his, mouth slightly agape.

he refused to take his focus away from you, not even when the others started to notice his show of affection.

“don’t be so mean hargrove, you know she’d whore herself out to you if you asked,” tommy h jeered, smacking his friend in the stomach and howling at his own words. billy didn’t find that very amusing, though.

before you could try and diffuse things, billy stood up, enraged, and made his way over to the shorter brunet, “the fuck did you just say?”

tommy sobered up pretty quickly when he realised that he’d overstepped, stumbling back a little, clambering down the bleachers.

“c’mon man, it was just a joke! everyone knows how she feels about you, maybe you wouldn’t mind sharing,” tommy scrambled to try and rectify the situation, but only fuelling the fire. no one had any chance to react before billy twisted his arm back and punched him in the face.

your classmates swarmed around the pair, shouting encouragement at whoever they thought would win. you gasped as tommy almost landed a fist in billy’s face, and urged the other boys to break them up. someone finally managed to separate the two, both panting and tommy was holding a hand to his now bruising jaw.

“don’t you ever disrespect my girl again, y’hear me hagan?” he spat, fists clenched and ready to jump back on the boy.

he turns away from the group, gently grabbing at your hand and guiding you towards the parking lot, apparently deciding to skip school before any of the teachers could come out and hound at him for his actions.

you grasped onto his bicep with your free hand, leaning your weight into him and unable to keep yourself from beaming up at your boyfriend.

you could see the corners of his mouth twitching, trying to maintain his pissed off expression. after a moment, he relented, smiling widely and returning your gaze.

“thank you, billy,” you smushed the side of your face into his shoulder, so relieved and overjoyed that he’d taken that step, even though he’d gotten hurt in the process.

he shook his head, smile dimming slightly, “should’ve done it a long time ago.”

he kissed the top of your head, before opening the passenger door to his camaro for you. you giggle to yourself as he walked around the bonnet, giddy and excited to go home with him.

and if you gave him an appreciating blowie on the way home, then that’s your business.

—————

any constructive criticism would be massively appreciated:) i really wanna get better at writing <3

[jellofish-plant]

Batfamily Relationship Headcanons (Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Catwoman)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman), Dick Grayson (Nightwing), Jason Todd (Red Hood), and Selina Kyle (Catwoman) x Reader (platonic and romantic interpretations available!)

Master List

Warnings:

Mentions of crime-fighting and Gotham’s usual dangers.

Light angst as characters navigate emotional walls.

Fluff and found-family vibes!

Summary: Navigating relationships with Gotham’s most iconic vigilantes and anti-heroes brings its challenges, but also moments of trust, love, and loyalty. Whether platonic or romantic, these headcanons explore what it’s like to have a unique bond with Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Selina.

Bruce Wayne (Batman)

Platonic:

Bruce may not say much, but he shows his care through actions. Expect quiet gestures like ensuring you’re safe or leaving a hot cup of tea when you’re up late.

He has an unspoken respect for your strength and skills, often involving you in plans when he knows you can handle it.

He’s surprisingly protective, especially if you’re not part of the Batfamily. If you get caught in danger, he’ll bring you to the Batcave until the situation is resolved.

Alfred will absolutely “adopt” you into the family if you’re close to Bruce.

Romantic:

Bruce is slow to open up romantically, but once he does, he’s deeply committed. His trust is hard-earned, making it all the more meaningful.

He’ll pull out all the stops for special occasions—think private dinners in Wayne Manor or moonlit walks through the city.

You’re one of the few people who can get him to relax. Late nights with just the two of you talking by the fireplace are his version of paradise.

He’s protective to the point of being overbearing sometimes, but it’s because he fears losing you.

Dick Grayson (Nightwing)

Platonic:

Dick is the ultimate “big brother” type, always looking out for you and making sure you’re okay.

He’s the first one to cheer you up if you’re down, often with a goofy joke or an impromptu dance-off.

If you’re on patrol together, he’s incredibly encouraging, always hyping you up for your accomplishments.

He’d be the one to drag you into karaoke night or convince you to join him for rooftop parkour.

Romantic:

Dick is a hopeless romantic and loves grand gestures—think handwritten notes, surprise dates, or flowers just because.

He’s touchy and affectionate, always finding excuses to hold your hand or drape an arm around your shoulders.

He’s an excellent communicator and will always talk things through with you, valuing openness and trust in the relationship.

Late-night patrols together often end with him pulling you into a spontaneous dance on a rooftop.

Jason Todd (Red Hood)

Platonic:

Jason has a tough exterior but is secretly a big softie for those he cares about. He’d never admit it, but he’d do anything for you.

He’s your go-to partner for snarky commentary and late-night drives through Gotham.

Jason is the kind of friend who’d show his care by bringing you your favorite snacks or fixing something you mentioned was broken.

If you’re in trouble, he’ll be the first to storm in, guns blazing (metaphorically or literally).

Romantic:

Jason has a protective streak a mile wide, sometimes forgetting you can handle yourself. You’ll have to remind him gently.

He shows his love in subtle ways, like cooking for you after a long day or leaving notes where he knows you’ll find them.

Jason has a vulnerable side that only you see. He’ll share pieces of himself over time, trusting you more deeply than anyone else.

He’s a sucker for quiet, domestic moments—reading together on the couch or sharing coffee on a lazy morning.

Selina Kyle (Catwoman)

Platonic:

Selina has a knack for pushing you out of your comfort zone in the best way possible. She’ll encourage you to take risks and trust your instincts.

She’s fiercely protective of you and has a sixth sense for when you’re in trouble, showing up just in time to save the day.

Selina loves sparring with you, both physically and verbally. She sees you as an equal and respects your opinions.

She has a mischievous side, often roping you into playful schemes or pranks on Bruce.

Romantic:

Selina is bold and flirtatious, always finding ways to keep things exciting between you.

She values your independence and would never try to cage you in. Instead, she supports your goals and dreams wholeheartedly.

Selina has a soft side she only shows to you—quiet nights cuddled up with her cats and whispered conversations about the future.

She loves surprising you with little gifts, often “liberated” from her latest heist.

Author’s Note: Hi, everyone! 💖 I had so much fun writing these headcanons for Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Selina. Whether you imagine these relationships as platonic, romantic, or a mix of both, I hope you find something here that resonates.

Feel free to like, reblog, or comment—I’d love to hear your thoughts or suggestions for other characters. Thank you for reading!

[gxthicupid]

𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏

💭 @multifandom-hcs Hello!! I hope you are having an excellent day / night! May I request some dating Macaque hcs?? Please and thank you! ^^

💬: Thank you so much for the request. I'm sorry I have taken so long to finish. I hope you enjoy : )

➨ Let's be real here. Macaque has never been in a relationship before. Probably a fling or two with someone in the past, but didn't have enough experience to understand deep connection romantically.

➨ So he's just as new and awkward as you are. But he doesn't want you to know that. He'd hide his awkwardness and nervousness behind his charismatic charm in the beginning of your relationship.

➨ I feel like Macaque would most likely have tons of boundaries for you to respect until he allows it to be surpassed. Since you know, his previous strongest relationship ended so badly, he doesn't want to talk about how bad it affected him.

➨ So go soft on him. He's trying his best to be there for you, but he does want to be respected for his privacy. Wait until he's ready.

➨ But I think, if you manage to break down those walls he’s build up, he eventually become more open and try to is willing to be a lot more genuine with his affection towards you, as being a tease and flirtatious were the most romantic he could ever be before trusting you with listening to his problems.

➨ Also I'd think he wouldn't show that kind of vulnerability in front of anyone else except you. He is NOT going to put up with Wukong and his nonsense.

➨ I headcanon that Macaque is more touch starved than Wukong. Don't get me wrong, Wukong is touch starved for sure, but I believe he's been surrounded by adoring fans as they see him as the ‘hero’, and no one really pays attention to Macaque.

➨ Macaque is definitely an introvert, but does consider taking you out for dates somewhere in Megapolis or somewhere isolated for the both of you to not get interrupted. I think he preferably wants to either cuddle or Netflix and chill at his dojo or your place.

➨ I'd assume as you and Macaque got to hang out with each other and understand your likes and dislikes, he would be able to do things to make you blush, smile or laugh; whether it's a little joke or a thoughtful gift.

➨ Macaque loves being intimate with you. Like, once he gets comfortable being physical, he'd start cuddling or pulling you close by the waist as he gently holds you.

➨ He won't say it out loud, but he will let you know that he adores you when you give him the same kind of treatment he does for you. Like if you were to seek the security of his arms as you casually on the couch, cuddling. Just you know that he internally cherishes that moment forever. Or if you shower him with kisses, Macaque will absolutely melt from the affection.

➨ I wouldn't say that he is extremely possessive over you (as much as most people seem to headcanon) I'd believe he entrusts you with defending yourself, but whenever things get too serious, then he steps in and protects you.

➨ When it comes to nicknames for each other, if you were to create nicknames that refer to his shadow abilities or moody demeanour, Macaque would eye roll, but deep down, feels flattered.

➨ However, the nicknames that he'd give to you would be like babe, sweetheart, darling and lovely. These were the default pet names in the beginning before he got creative, like referring to you as cutie, babycakes, sugar, doll, and his personal favourite: ✨sugarplum✨ (I'm bad with coming up with nicknames)

➨ Judging from his liking to shadow plays and performing in general, I'd headcanon that he observes the romantic aspects to the play, and tries testing them on you to see which one you would like or not.

➨ While observing these plays, he developed his romantic language as he learned new compliments and picked up lines to use on you. But don't test him. If you try to be snarky about your flirting skills, he will immediately turn the tables and it will end up you losing and as red as a tomato.

➨ On the topic of Macaque being a theatre fanatic, BIG fan of music, especially musicals and classical music. He'd show his interest with you by letting you listen, and if you like his genre of music, both of you would end up talking about your favourite musicals or opera or whatever it is you like, and probably rant about the remakes that aren't as good as the original.

[cheekylittlepupp]

Can we talk about Ascended Astarion and how he actually seems to be lonelier than ever? If you talk to the non romanced version of him he says that even with all of this power and wealth, he feels lonely. I'm starting to think that this is the sad route just as much as it's the evil route.

If you've romanced him, his whole world now revolves around you, he will lovebomb you and never let you go, if you talk about freedom he gets visibly annoyed and replies with "Gods, not this again." How many times was this discussed before? I'm almost 100% sure that you are never getting out of a relationship with him, ever, if you find a way to die this man will probably scour all of Faerûn for a way to bring you back. Or if you want to go the angsty route.

Once he ascends he pushes everyone away and if tav doesn't agree with him he can easily compel them to, talk about an echo chamber. Afterall, he knows best. Everyone is beneath him, their only purpose is to bow and serve and of course, offer their necks.

It reminds me of something he said before about someone, hmm ~

Everything that has happened up to this point, everything you've gone through with him from act 1 up until he ascends is erased. He is once again closed off, unbelieving of love, belives that every type of relationship is just a transaction, that his former self was pathetic, powerless, undeserving of anything and that everything in this world happens only for power. Power, Power, Power.

Sharing his power and wealth with you, providing you with pleasure, what is all of this, if not, love? (funny, this ties up to act 1n2 again huh, intimacy being only transactional) Oh you wanted, love, love? Honesty, sincerity, respect, mutual understanding and all of that crap? Don't be ridiculous, darling.

He is incredibly pushy about making you his spawn because in that way you will never be able to run away from him, you will be forever his.

I do believe that you are special to him, afterall, you were his first everything. The first living creature's blood was yours and we all know how important and special that is, you were the first one who saw him for who he truly is, you were the first one who he was intimate with for the first time after he escaped and wasn't compelled to do so, he had other motives at the time but we all know he caught feelings soon after, you were the first one who listened to him pour his heart out, you are the first person he's ever truly cared for, you were the one standing by his side when you faced Cazzador, you were the one who helped him with the ritual, you helped him sacrifice all of those souls, you pushed him, you were there through all of it, YOU.

So once he finally receives the power that he's lusted after, he will secure you any way he can, he will promise you everything, he will say everything that you want to hear, god forbid he is ever alone again and lose you.

All of this ties up to him being possesive, he's co-dependent on you, always watching, always having his eyes on you, his prized treasure, his beloved pet, his dark consort, the only thing he truly has. You will be together forever, until the world falls down, be it by force or your free will.

[foursaints]

i lurvvveeee your jegulus so lemme be parasocial about them for a sec!! how did those fuckers meet? are they an opposites attract kinda sitch?? how do their individual personalities mesh together to create the perfect mush of athlete sweat and dior sauvage eau de toilette?

- sincerely, the film bro question anon 💌

jegulus has always struck me as the kind of insane people who would meet by hooking up at their mutual ex’s wedding. they’re that exact type of crazy. (james is there to make a dramatic love confession, regulus is there to get dramatic revenge, and they wind up too preoccupied with fucking in the coat room to remember their original plans, thank GOD)

jegulus always has the type of charmingly witty, surprisingly tender, magical banter that convinces them it’s love at first sight, approximately 24 hours before james catches a glimpse of reg’s “jfp: pros/cons?” list in his notes app and all hell breaks loose.

they’re two people who are both utterly convinced they’re always RIGHT. but they couldn’t be more different. so they mutually instigate a crisis in each other just by existing

regulus has the personality of a vodka martini. james cries at finale episode of american ninja warrior. but they have to reckon with their blistering chemistry & shocking moments of soulmate-level vulnerability and this is difficult because, crucially, neither one of them is good at EVER losing battles of will….

they are equally stubborn. they deal with life in opposite ways. you could not PAY regulus to date someone who wears the same filthy unwashed pair of “lucky socks” before watching any championship game. james thinks paying more than $200 on a single pair of slacks is tantamount to a war crime.

but they both… begrudgingly respect and are fascinated/hypnotized by each other? because of the differences? they have the EXACT SAME sense of humor. their weird “contemptuous rivalry” sex is the single most passionate thing either of them has ever experienced. and it’s precisely their differences that just… against their wishes…. bring out the best in each other

like. james has never had a normal breakup in his entire life (they’re burning his clothes, he’s showing up at 6am with a boombox, etc). all of regulus’s breakups are handled in 3-5 business hours & come with a severance package. it’s only by talking to regulus on the porch at midnight that james gets a handle on himself. regulus has never enjoyed letting go until james teaches him to tango in his apartment at 3am.

but all these moments of growth!! would be more satisfying!!! if they weren’t coming directly from THAT SWAGGERING TRUST FUND CONTROL FREAK IDIOT!!!!! (said the swaggering trust fund control freak idiot)

it’s the horror of realizing your least favorite person is Sometimes Right, and also isn’t even close to being your least favorite person at all.

[yanderes-galore]

Can I request a yandere Garnet (SU) concept? Thank you

Kept it mostly platonic as I just view her like that. I'll take feedback on this as she is... surprisingly hard to yandere properly.

Yandere! Garnet Concept

(Ruby + Sapphire)

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Controlling behavior, Jealousy, Manipulation, Violence implied, Isolation, Dubious companionship/relationship.

Considering the nature of Garnet already being a relationship, I feel she'd be more platonic to her obsession.

Not only that, but she'd be so stern and protective too.

Garnet isn't always emotive, although some aspects of Ruby and Sapphire show through separately at times.

She tries to think rationally like Sapphire, but sometimes loses her cool like Ruby.

Most of the time Garnet is calm with her obsession.

You could throw a fit at her and she'll take it... only to scold you later.

As long as you don't try to hit her, she can tolerate your outbursts.

The only time I can see Garnet as romantic is a very rare case where she likes another Gem.

In that case she'd want to try fusion with them if it meant she could keep you with her.

She'd wait until you're ready, however.

But let's be honest, based on what we've seen in the show, she isn't interested in that with many.

She'd be more likely to protect you platonically because she sees you as family or a close friend.

Garnet is an unnerving yandere as you can't read her all the time.

She's deadpan towards most around you... including you at times.

There's times you'll want to hang out with others, like friends or maybe a partner of your own, only for Garnet to step in with an unreadable expression just to say one thing.

"No."

That's it, nothing else.

She's really good at shutting down things she doesn't want you doing.

There's times you're allowed to be with other people, she wants you to have some other bonds.

But she doesn't want you to ignore her completely.

I have a feeling you can't really argue with her, either.

She'd want her obsession to respect her and her decisions.

Essentially, you listen to her or she makes you if she feels it's for the best.

She's the type of yandere who would "mom" her darling.

She's usually level-headed so most of what you do won't break her composure.

She isn't always stern and stoic, though.

Sometimes she's genuinely caring, wanting to let you know she does care for you.

That she loves you.

She does what she does because she wants to cherish the bond you have with her.

After all, Garnet knows quite a bit about bonds.

Most of her obsession is this protective guardian role.

She tries to be very understanding with her obsession.

Due to the nature of Garnet viewing relationships as sacred, she wouldn't want to rush anything with her obsession.

Doing so would lose your trust.

She is fine with acting like a guardian to you, as a Crystal Gem she's used to such a thing.

She may be protective and stern... but she would want her obsession to come to her when they were ready.

She knows getting you to love her by force will only hurt you both.

Ruby may be overly eager about having you accept them, but Sapphire is careful to keep them both calm.

If you're a Gem then they try to be even more patient... Unstable fusion will hurt you even more.

Garnet, out of most Gems, is one of the more patient yanderes.

Bonds take time to develop and locking you away certainly won't help.

Ruby is no doubt the half that feels the most jealousy when they see you interact so well with others.

Sapphire knows they shouldn't be jealous of you having other people you enjoy.

Sapphire knows you'll come to them at some point and see they care...

They just need patience.

Although... they do fear you'll never come to them...

I can see Ruby and Sapphire splitting because of their differing beliefs throwing them out of sync.

They have different obsession types, which means if they get impatient... they can't be Garnet.

Ruby's scared you'll never love them the same way they do you.

Ruby wants to show you how much they care, to the point she may be too reckless and scare you off.

Meanwhile Sapphire fully believes in waiting.

She wants Ruby to calm down, to give you time.

You may be confused when you see the two out of fusion, concerned even.

Completely unaware that you are the reason they're having a fight.

Eventually the two may make up, both loving you and wanting you happy.

Sapphire has to calm Ruby's jealousy... but soon they'll be Garnet again, ready to give it another shot... hopefully.

Garnet would stick by you regardless of how you feel.

It's really hard for me to view her as toxic as Garnet herself is a pretty healthy relationship in my eyes.

She believes in love being comfortable for both parties and would wait years for you.

Even when she's impatient or jealous, she can usually calm herself down.

She's been around for years as Garnet, she'd wait as long as she had to in order to gain the affection of her obsession.

When you finally think you can be there for her, Garnet would welcome you with open arms.

Her most toxic traits are a subtle jealousy towards others along with being overprotective.

Anything more toxic causes Ruby and Sapphire to split until something resolves the issue.

I am struggling to make her toxic while being in character....

She'd do just about anything if it meant you'd be protected.

Protecting you is her way of loving you.

Her obsession could hate her and she'd probably still try to be encouraging with them.

Garnet may be intimidating... but she's actually one of the better yanderes in my eyes.

She mellows out both Ruby and Sapphire's traits which makes her pleasant to be around.

She seems controlling and overbearing, but genuinely cares for your feelings.

She'll let you take your time.

If you aren't hers in the end, then she'll maybe nudge you in the right direction.

If you're a Gem, she may offer fusion to show she cares for you... that she wants to include you.

If you're human, she protects you in whatever way she can.

She'd do anything to have you happy and protected.

Even breaking her composure if she sees you get hurt.

Garnet can be ruthless when protecting those she cares about.

Imagine if you see her shatter a Gem to protect you... or maybe have blood on her gauntlets.

She sees her overprotective tendencies as caring for you.

You may be scared of her, or maybe even hate her, but she's willing to wait...

If you're in danger, she'll isolate you with the rest of the Crystal Gems.

Even if you aren't in danger, she may still isolate you to prevent any potential danger.

She'll still give you your space, She'll even say she loves you... but you can't go out on your own.

She feels bad that you aren't happy all the time with her... If at all...

She hopes it will change... but...

As long as she has you in the end... and you're safe...

Then she'll accept loving you from afar... until she can't take it anymore, that is.

[whaledenwtf]

Halsin x Druid!Reader - The Forest's Calling

I'm currently HYPERFIXATING on Baldur's Gate 3. This is my love letter to Mount Halsin, the elf I would climb until my limbs fell off. You're welcome (or I'm sorry). Cross-posted on AO3 here: Link Enjoy!

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Dom/Sub Dynamic, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Choking, Oral (Female and Male Receiving), Kinky DRUID Forest Sex, Misuse of the Entangle Cantrip (hehe), Size Difference

I tried to keep Halsin in character as much as possible, but there is a significant change when y'all get funky

WORD COUNT: 4691

Nature calls to you, as it always had. The sounds of the forest have always been your favourite. Silvanus' creations had made you feel complete. The moss between your toes, and the swaying of trees; you had never felt so much peace during such perilous times. It's at times like this you are gracious for your god's teachings; nature is chaotic as it is gentle, and things will sort them out- if that is what is determined. This is how you kept such a level head during this adventure. Some of your companions saw your level-headedness as worrisome, but you always remind them that to persevere is in the forest's nature, and so it is in yours.

No good ever came from stressing over obstacles in your life.

"If you could stop thinking about the grass for five seconds, I'd appreciate you listening to me. Tch- tree huggers." Astarion tells you annoyed. You look into his crimson eyes and smirk.

"This tree hugger is your key to freedom. Unless you forgot about the tadpole in your brain." Astarion's eyes widen, before he smirks.

"Keep talking dirty, sweetheart. Might not resist taking a bite~" You chuckle.

"Settle down. Like I told you beforehand, we must seek out the Archdruid Halsin before we continue our journey. Nobody could come close to him in terms of knowledge-" Lae'zel rolls her eyes.

"Nobody could come close to the information about the ghaik than us githyanki. You istik entertain such useless ideas." You roll your eyes at her. Before you could speak up, Shadowheart speaks to the githyanki.

"Yes. I'm sure your barbaric race would know much more." She says sarcastically. "I, on the other hand, would much rather any other option besides yours." Before Lae'zel could fight back, Karlach speaks to them both.

"Shut the fuck up and kiss already. Wasting time when we could be slaying goblins and getting closer to being free. Stop fucking around and listen to (Y/N)." You nod your head in appreciation to the tiefling.

"Besides, even if Archdruid Halsin does not know how to help us, he may offer his services regardless. Leaving him with the goblins is a fate worse than death. His ally-ship will be indispensable." This appeases those in the group who were unsure of your leadership.

"Always the cunning one, aren't you sweetheart." Astarion speaks up. You turn your head and wink.

"Let's push forward and assist in any way we can." Wyll speaks up. Gale nods, looking over our group.

"Let's be smart and proactive, we do not want to lose eachother, nor do we want to get caught. We shall stay in hiding for as long as possible. Stealth is the best way forward with our little information we have." Astarion taps your chin.

"I like you like this." You smirk at him before leading the group to the Goblin Camp.

After killing every goblin in the vicinity, you all venture forward to a cage where a bear is roaming.

"A bear. He was probably going to be goblin fodder." Astarion says, smirking.

"Hush. Poor thing was being attacked by these goblins." Karlach speaks to him, bumping her shoulder into Astarions. He gasps, the wind being knocked out of him.

"Careful. I bruise like a peach!" He tells her angrily. She chuckles.

"And you're just as bitter as a rotten tomato-" Astarion bristles. You cut him off.

"Settle down, girls. We have time for play later. Show some respect. That bear is our charge." You unlock the iron gate before walking in alone.

"I don't think that's a good idea-" Gale says worriedly, but you shush him. When the bear makes eye contact with you, you see the gold swirling in his eyes. His mouth opens to show his sharp teeth, a warning.

You bow down infront of the bear, laying a hand out towards his snout.

"Are you sure that's... wise, sweetheart?" Astarion asks, concerned. You ignore him before speaking.

"Archdruid Halsin, it is my absolute honour to stand before you. We have come here to free you from your imprisonment and bring you back to the Emerald Grove. May Silvanus preserve us." Without a beat, the bear transforms into a tall, handsome, elf. Your eyes widen at his stature, but more at his beauty.

"Ah, a fellow druid. Silvanus has certainly looked upon me in favour. Thank you for assisting me." You realize you are still kneeling, at crotch level with the Archdruid. Your eyes flicker to his pelvis, and eyes widen at what you see. You rise to your full height, which makes you eye level with his chest. Your head tilts to look into his eyes, and notice him watching you, with a small smirk. He saw you gazing at him, how embarrassing.

"Of course, Archdruid Halsin." He shakes his head softly, braids swaying with the movement.

"Please, call me Halsin. My savior shouldn't have to call me by such a title." You nod, before looking over your shoulder at your companions. They are all looking at the tall elf in shock.

"He just- he just turned into a man!" Astarion says out loud. You chuckle.

"Yes. My preferred wild shape is a bear." He responds to the shorter elf, not looking away from you, glancing over you in curiousity. You turn back to look at him. Your eyes stay locked while you speak to your party.

"Let us leave. We will bring Halsin back to the Emerald Grove and then we can rest. I want to wash off this gods-awful goblin blood before it stains my armour." Everyone nods at that. They turn to walk out, ready to escort Halsin back. You follow your group, Gale and Wyll leading you all forward.

"Thank you, little flower. I truly appreciate you aiding me." Halsin whispers to you, matching your strides behind the group. Little flower... the nickname made you giddy. You blush softly, the heat reaching to the peaks of your ears.

"I can't leave a fellow druid behind. Especially with what those goblins were doing to you." You shake your head, looking over him and the dried blood that caked him from his wild shape form. He chuckles at your worried gaze.

"Nonetheless, the Oakfather has blessed me with your assistance. I am indebted to you for life." You turn to look at him, his easy smile and warm eyes making you feel something... magical.

"The Oakfather has blessed us many times anew. The air we breathe, the ground we walk upon, the forests. But alas, I did come to release you because we need your assistance-" His eyes widen lightly, before he looks down at you.

"What do you need, little flower?" The way he speaks to you is soft, unconcerned of the questions you will ask him. His caring nature speaks to the softest parts of you.

"I will ask you once we bring you to the Emerald Grove. However, I must warn you-" You stop walking and grab his arm. Holy hells his arms are buff. You must have paused for a moment too long.

"What is wrong?" You shake your head at your own thoughts. You're acting like a toddler, instead of the adult elf you are.

"At the Emerald Grove... Kagha is planning to do the Rite of Thorns, and is releasing all the Tiefling refugees..." Halsin's eyes almost bug out of his head.

"We must stop them! That rite does more harm than good! Those Tieflings... fleeing towards death. It is not right!" You tell him passionately. He takes your hand from off his arm and grips it in both his large hands.

" We will stop them, little one." You nod. He continues to hold your hand.

"The shadow curse has been on my mind for so long, I cannot believe I trusted such a-" He shakes his head, cutting himself off.

"We will continue our trek and once we stop the rite, I will tell you all you need to know." You bite your lip.

"If I could help carry your burdens, I would." He chuckles, a light blush appearing on the apples of his cheeks.

"I'm sure you would, little flower. Now, let us continue our journey. I appreciate you warning me." He lets go of your hand and waves his hand out, gesturing you to go forward, so you do. You can't help the chill that you feel when his hands release yours.

After stopping the rite, you did speak to Halsin about the tadpoles. He sighs when he says he cannot heal you of your affliction. A shiver of fear goes through your body. If someone as knowledgeable with healing like Halsin cannot heal you, you cannot imagine how to move forward. Its then that he tells you that the Shadow-Cursed Lands may be the key to assisting you in your journey. You bite your lip worriedly.

"I will continue to assist you. I will follow your party and do what I can. Not only for the cursed lands, but also for you." He says it with such conviction, such passion, you cannot help but feel safe and warmed from his sentiments.

"I feel indebted to you Halsin. Truly." He shakes his head.

"You will be helping me much more than I, you." You smile up at him. He cannot help but be captured by the radiance of your smile. Oakfather preserve him, you are the most beautiful of his creations.

"I will help you with this shadow curse. Take back nature and restore balance. I just hope I don't grow any tentacles in that time." You say humourlessly, your laugh hollow. He grabs your chin with his hand, his thumb stroking the side of your face.

"I promise on all of the Oakfather's creations, I will not let anything happen to you." Your eyes flutter, and you glance down at his lips before looking back into his eyes.

"Thank you." You whisper to him. His attention is taken elsewhere, and his hand caresses down your neck before releasing you, and moving to the Tiefling asking for him.

You feel this feral need to have him, to help him. You're attracted to him, and you can tell this will be problematic. Oakfather preserve you.

That night, the Tieflings throw a party for you all. The music is loud, and you can see them enjoying themselves. You look over your companions and see all of them enjoying themselves; albeit in their own ways. While looking over the festivities, you see Halsin standing away, gazing over the festivities and people watching. Your eyes make contact and you blush.

"This wine tastes like goblin piss." Astarion tells you, gagging on the swig he just took. You chuckle at him, breaking eye contact with the handsome druid to look over at the vampire.

"Not your type of red drink?" You ask him flirtedly. He smirks at you and leans into you.

"No, sweetheart. My type of red is standing right next to me, as radiant as ever." His face gets close to your neck and he sniffs you deeply.

"All of a sudden, I am thirsting for something else." He tells you. You chuckle at his advances.

"Are you now?" You flirt back. He smirks down at you.

"You're much more fun to speak to like this, sweetheart. I can't help but want a taste." You giggle at him, before taking the wine from his hand and taking a couple mouthfuls.

"Oh gods it does taste like goblin's piss." You splutter out. He laughs at your turmoil.

"Oh darling, you make me laugh." He tells you. You grin at him.

"Glad my misfortunes bring you joy." He smiles at you, sharp teeth glinting in the campfire's light.

"Mm. The only thing that would bring me more joy in this moment is having a taste of you." His voice lowers to a whisper. You roll your eyes.

"Easy there. If I didn't know you better I'd say you're a bard, singing my praises so I could follow you to your tent for the night." You push his chest gently.

"I'm sure I can make you sing, sweetheart." He tells you, looking at you with a smirk.

"As much fun as we would have, I think you've had enough to drink." You tell him jokingly, waving the bottle of wine in his face. You take another swig, and swallow down the bitterness. You go to walk forward, the alcohol driving you to your destination; Halsin.

"Ah, my little flower! It seems you were having fun." Halsin tells you, smile on his face. The crease between his brows tells you that he'd much rather had been the one sniffing your neck, rather than Astarion. You feel a rush of confidence surge through you, aided by the alcohol in your system.

"I decided to turn my attentions elsewhere." You tell him confidently. He smirks at your words.

"Is that so? Well, I am honoured to have such attentions on me." He tells you in a whisper. You almost whimper at his words, feeling hot. You feel as though molten lava has replaced the blood in your veins, and the heat is centralized at the apex of your thighs. You rub them lightly, which catches the elder druid's attention.

"You could have much more than attentions on you tonight, Master Halsin." Your voice lowers to a whisper, and the effect is immediate. His eyes shine golden and his smile becomes wider, more primal. Just like in the Goblin Camp, it was a warning.

"Is that so, little flower? Are you offering yourself to me?" He asks you gently, taking a step forward. You are now flush with his body, and the carvings on his undershirt graze the peaks of your breasts deliciously, hardening them. You moan quietly, looking up at the gargantuan man through your eyelids.

"I'd like to explore you, Master Halsin. See if those rumours of your... generosity are true." You feel his arm wrap around your waist, his hand resting at the small of your back. His fingers seem to tighten, digging softly into your skin.

"You seem to enjoy calling me by my honourifics." You hum, smirking at him.

"I'm just calling you by title. You would like to be my master, would you not?" He growls lowly, much like a bear would.

"You're playing a dangerous game, little one." He tells you huskily. You giggle at him.

"The only games I would like to play are with you, Master." In his eyes you can see him having an inner battle. You take the hand on your waist in yours, which snaps him out of his inner turmoil. The alcohol is rushing through you now, your (very little) inhibitions non-existent now. You pull it closer to your face, before taking a thick finger in your mouth and worshipping it. You kiss at the pad of his forefinger before licking it; inevitably taking it into your mouth and sucking on it softly. He watches you entranced, groaning softly as you let go of his finger with a pop. You take his hand in yours, and pull him towards the edge of the camp, leading to the forest. Once you find the small grove in the forest, you let go of his hand, spinning in place and enjoying the silence of nature. He stays at the edge of the tree line, watching you with sharp eyes.

"Little flower-" Halsin says softly. You turn to look at the man with a smile.

"Our worries are for dawn. With the moonlight shining on us, and the trees as our witness, I would like to show you the pleasures of the flesh, as nature intended." He groans loudly now, far enough from the camp that your voices would not carry.

"I'm afraid to lose myself. The beast-" You pull off your nightshirt, exposing your breasts in the moonlight. You then pull off your pants and undergarments in one shot, fully baring yourself to his sight. He inhales deeply, eyes looking at you up and down multiple times. You begin to to dance sensually, your hips seeming to beckon him forward. He takes a couple of uncertain steps.

"Halsin. I am not one so easily afraid of beasts. Let me help you forget your woes for a night." His resolve seems to crumble, and he runs to you, leaving you both chest to chest.

"Little flower, I will devour you-" You moan, pulling his hair to bring him to your lips. His chapped lips touch yours, and it feels as if there is magic flowing through your bodies. His hands find purchase under your thighs, lifting you up into him. Your legs wrap around his waist, and you moan into his mouth. His tongue prods at the seam of your lips, persuading you to open your mouth to his. Your tongues find each other, and a battle of dominance begins. You lose easily, his gifted tongue prodding and licking at yours with wanton need. You release each other to inhale deeply. He inhales from his nose and groans.

"I can smell your need, little one." You whimper, looking into his eyes.

"You're overdressed, Master Halsin. Allow me to undress you." He lets you down out of his embrace, and you begin to untuck his sleepshirt out from his pants and over his head. You begin to untie his pants, helping him out of them as well. That's when you notice he is wearing no undergarments, and his cock is thick and long, closer to the length of your forearm. You whimper, falling to your knees and looking up at him.

"You don't need to please me-" You cut him off.

"I want your cock to hit the back of my throat until I am unable to speak." He moans loudly, before your hand grasps him at the shaft.

"The Oakfather blessed me with such a giving partner. I- Oh Silvanus-" You take him in your mouth, licking at the tip. You taste his musk, and he tastes like pine and mint, and something that makes you absolutely feral. Without a care for your own wellbeing, you try to swallow him whole, his tip hitting the back of your throat, and then some. He groans, eyes closing as one hand finding itself locked in your hair and the other forming a fist at his thigh.

"That's right little druid, take Master's cock into the back of your throat." His voice goes down an octave, and you feel a rush of slick leave you. Taking him out of your mouth, you kiss the shaft downward until you take his heavy balls in your mouth and suckle. You're panting with need, moaning into his skin. You let go of him, one hand stroking his cock and the other inching down your body to touch your cunt. He looks down at you then with hooded eyes, and moans again.

"Are you touching your needy cunt, little flower? I cannot wait to fill you with my seed until your entire being is satiated." You moan, needing him back in your mouth. You remove the hand on his shaft and deepthroat him again, only getting two thirds of his member into your mouth. You hear your need, the wet sounds coming from your pussy only arousing you further. He begins to thrust into your mouth and you choke on him. After making sure you were alright, he continues his movements, thrusts getting rougher. The hand in your hair tightens and pulls you off his cock, as he growls.

"I will pound your quim until you are unable to walk without my healing, little one." His hands grip your upper arms and lifts you up to stand. Your face is smeared with his precum and your spittle. Once you are stable on your two feet, he kisses you passionately and you moan into him. His hands are touching you everywhere. His touch is searing hot. His hands find themselves at your breasts, rubbing and pinching the peaks of them.

"O-Oh Halsin. Don't stop." He chuckles into your ear.

"I'm not planning to stop until dawn shows itself." You whimper at his words, thrusting your chest deeper into his ministrations. You hear Halsin whisper before your hands are being pulled behind you, tightly grasped. Your feet are also held up, spreading your legs open. You notice that vines grew from the ground and are holding you up like a platter to Halsin.

"As much as I love your touch, little one, I don't want you to push me off when I get a taste of your ambrosia." You moan loudly, almost caterwauling for the elder druid.

His large hands caress up your leg, massaging the skin of your calves, before going higher.

"I wish you could see yourself as I do in this moment, little flower. You're exquisite; truly one of Silvanus' greatest creations." You blush, heaving.

"H-Halsin, please-" He chuckles at your enthusiasm.

"Don't fret, you will be chanting my name soon enough." His confidence is addicting, you could feel how drenched you were even with your legs spread so far apart. His hands finally reach close to your core, and he spreads your slit further open to look at you. You could feel your hole contracting, as if begging for an intrusion.

"By the gods... Look at your tight cunt begging for my cock. Can't wait to have a taste." You feel his breath on you. You look down and see him watching you, as his hands slide up to your breasts to play with your nipples like he had before. The first stroke of his tongue on your clit sent a sensation of pleasure up your spine. You struggle against your bonds, with an insatiable urge to grasp his hair and tug him deeper into you.

His tongue then ventures lower, tasting your essence. He moans loudly into your body, the vibrations of his moan pleasing you greatly. He continues licking you, tasting you as he tweaks your nipples, tugging before massaging. You felt powerless against the bonds, barely hearing anything more than the rush of blood in your ears.

"Your nectar... is just like honey. I can't wait to have you cum on my tongue multiple times." You moan. You can tell you're already close to your precipice, his words, moans and tongue vibrating and licking against your clit deliciously.

"Please... please Master Halsin-" He groans at the honourific. He plunges his tongue into you, lapping you at your source. His nose nudges your clit and that sets off your orgasm. You feel yourself leak onto him, his tongue cleaning your mess. You're shaking with oversensitivity, but he does not stop. One of the hands on your breast caress back down the length of your body, before he pulls away from your core. He grins up at you as he thrusts two of his thick fingers into you. He curls them, as you begin to shake harder.

"That's it, little one. Let all those in the forest know who is making you feel like this, making you cum and feel pleasure-" His words go straight to your core, and more of your slick leaks around his fingers.

"Halsin-H-Halsin- Oh GODS-" His lips wrap around your clit, sucking and licking at you. The attention was too much; you cum again. This time, you can feel much more than slick leave your body- did I squirt? You wonder to yourself, as your body is now lashing against the constraints. You didn't have much time to think about it, as he pulls his fingers out to taste you, moaning. You look down at him, panting. He spreads you open again, this time with both hands, before his tongue is back in you, tasting you like you were water and he was a man dehydrated. You whimper, begging him to give you reprieve. He pulls off of you, his mouth and chin covered in your release. He was panting, his eyes glowing a bright amber.

"You have no idea what you unleashed, little one." He growls out. You feel the vines dissipate. You're laid on the forest ground gently. Before he could move, you flip yourself over with enthusiasm, laying your upper body parallel to the floor and your lower body in the air. You wiggle your ass, one of your hands going between your legs and spreading yourself open. You look over your shoulder and look him directly in the eye. He is watching you with wonder, before you speak.

"Breed me, Master Halsin. Empty your seed in me and fuck me into a stupor." He growls, before kneeling behind you.

"I'll make sure you can't walk for weeks, little one. I'll spread you nice and good." You feel the tip of his cock at your entrance. He rubs himself up and down your slit, gathering your juices.

"Look how wet you are. Such a good little druid for me." You whimper at his words. Without warning he thrust into you, going to the hilt. His heavy balls hit against your clit, and your mouth goes open in a silent scream. He begins a brutal pace, pounding into you. One of his hands reach around your body, his large hand grasping your neck. His hold is tight, but not painfully so. You feel lightheaded, all your senses being overwhelmed by the Archdruid. You feel as though your floating, the only thing tying you to this plane of existence is the continuous thrusts from the elf behind you. You felt as though you were split open repeatedly, his cock reaching places in you that you were unsure existed before today. He growls as he pounds into you, and you begin to feel claws against your neck, before they retract.

"You make me feral, little one. I'm gonna fill you with my seed, fill you with pups." You moan, breathless. His thrusts begin to falter, but they seem to go deeper. You feel yourself fluttering around him, as you gasp.

"I-I'm close." You whisper to him. He groans.

"I feel you fluttering around me, little one." He chokes out. After a handful of thrusts he cums with a shout, and you constrict around him, cumming once more. You feel his seed in you, so abundant that it leaks out around him. You both pant for a couple seconds. He releases your neck and you gasp an inhale.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks you softly. You shake your head enthusiastically.

"N-no. Oh gods Halsin. I am unsure how I will walk right ever again." You tell him breathlessly. He chuckles at that, caressing your back and thighs with gentleness. You feel him slowly pull out of you, taking care to not punish your core anymore. You whimper at the loss, feeling your mixed spend leaking out of you. He flips you over softly, wanting to look you over. His hand goes to finger you lazily. You shriek, body seizing up.

"Not a drop goes to waste." He tells you huskily. After a couple moments, he pulls his fingers out too, and directs them to your mouth. You suckle on the digits, the taste arousing you once more. You both look into each other's eyes as you did this. Once he removes his fingers from your mouth, his lips replace it, tasting both of you on his tongue. He groans into your lips. You kiss for a couple moments, before you both need to separate so you could inhale. You felt utterly spent. He goes to lie down next to you, and your eyes follow him.

His hands begin to massage your sore muscles, before pulling you onto him. You felt utterly spent. He holds you into a lover's embrace and you can't help but sigh into his chest, caressing his pectorals and cuddling into him. You feel his lips on the crown of your head, leaving a trail soft pecks and kisses. You both lay there, absorbing the beauty of nature and speaking about your lives before the parasite and the shadow curse until the sun rose.

END

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Full hcs for the m6 with an MC that has chronic pain (I looked through the masterlists and didn't find anything, but it's totally possible that I missed something O///O)

The Arcana HCs: MC with chronic pain

Julian

He devotes his full care and attention to every person in need of a doctor he meets and you are about to get 200% of that

Will do a full examination as soon as you're able to talk to him about it. Give him your medical history, past diagnoses, personal opinions, potential causes, and any other detail you have

Listens to every word, writing them all down so intensely that his handwriting is even less legible than usual

In the moment, there's not much he can do beyond suggesting a few alternate ways of handling it and covering you with kisses and careful, all-encompassing sympathetic hugs

In the long run, chronic pain starts to rival (if not surpass) hematology as his field of study and expertise. Pain management does get easier over time as he learns and applies more

It has also changed how he speaks about pain

The earliest example of which was when he told you that he was "intimately acquainted" with it and you misinterpreted that as him saying that he suffers from it too - you still tease him for that

Your biggest medical advocate & never loses sympathy for you

Asra

They didn't really know how much you suffered from it until your first weeks back, and then they watched as you had to relearn how to live with it. To call it nightmarish would be an understatement

So, so, so many pain easing spells and potions. His collection was already impressive for Nadia's migraines but now it's tripled

Curious to the point of almost seeming insensitive about the sensations you experience. They did, with your permission, try linking to you enough to take them on once

He didn't like it. He can handle physical discomfort well enough but he hates it with a passion and this was a horrible realization

Thoughtful and protective of your right to comfort and access to accommodation, to the point that you sometimes have to remind them that you really can handle it

Asks you every morning and through the day how your pain levels are and will adjust accordingly. Bad pain day? Leave the shop to him, here are some meds, he'll bring you breakfast in a bit

Has been known to use pain transfer spells on rude customers during your flareups - it's two birds with one stone!

Nadia

Had a hunch that it was something you experienced from the moment she met you, if only because she was dealing with constant migraines at the time and recognized the pain

Does her best to hide it from you because she doesn't want to make your pain about herself, but gets frustrated beyond measure about it. She's a fixer, and this is something she can't just fix

She does everything she can for you, of course - opening the Palace doors to anyone with knowledge on the subject, stocking up and giving you access to all of her pain management methods

But it still gnaws at her when she knows you're having a bad pain day and the most she can do is encourage you to rest and have your meals sent to you and try to get extra time to spend with you

Even more proud of you than you can tell (which is very proud). Living in pain the way you do is no easy thing and that pain being largely "invisible" only adds to what you must be going through

Very respectful of your needs. It doesn't matter if she doesn't understand why you need something right away, if you need it, you need it

Muriel

It's not something he'll confess to until you're close enough and he's comfortable admitting it, but he has his own chronic pain from his Coliseum injuries. It's not constant, but it flares up regularly

A poorly healed fracture in his wrist. Some mangled nerve endings from blunt force trauma to his ribs. A wrenched knee that never fully healed and keeps coming back like a sprain

There's another layer to the days he spends hiding in bed, lifting nothing heavier than his tiny carving tools

He never really got much medical attention when the injuries were fresh and he certainly hasn't gotten any for the pain since, but he'll share all the knowledge on natural medicine he has

And nobody knows how physical pain can get into your head like he does. He doesn't always know what to say, but he is dedicated to listening when you're struggling and helping where he can

A little slower at accepting support for his own pain (it's months, if not years, before he's comfortable with being seen for it by a doctor) but he's with you every step of the way. You're not alone

Portia

Portia is excruciatingly empathetic to you and this is not something easy for her to understand or relate to

Pain? Physical pain?? Which you can't control, or point to an obvious/visible/curable source for??? How do you not act like you're in constant pain? How have you not found a cure?

(To say that she cringes when she remembers peppering you with these questions is an understatement. What matters is that she learned and she never doubted you for a second)

She still has difficulty fully comprehending what you're going through, but once she's dragged you to her brother and gotten some action items to follow up with, supporting you gets easier

Checks in with you several times a day on schedule and keeps a list of useful questions to ask so she can understand your pain levels

Always has at least two pain meds on hand in case of a spike or flare up and will scour the markets for any ingredients that she hears will help with pain/nerve damage/inflammation

Will bring Pepi to loaf and purr on you for hours when you need to stay in bed for the day and leaves treats on the bedside table

Lucio

He relates to this more than he wants to, but his own experience is so all over the place he doesn't know how to talk about it

Sure, he had chronic pain when he was a count, it's hard to have an emergency amputation done by an inexperienced student and then a decently weighty metal prosthetic for 20 years without it

But back then he had plenty of doctors and the kinds of resources to make managing it almost easy, not to mention the parties and pleasures he indulged in constantly to distract from it

And then for three years he felt nothing - nothing at all

At this point, he'd choose the pain over the ghost form any day, but that doesn't make it easy. Hearing you talk about your pain openly helps him realize it's possible to live with, even though it's difficult

So that's what he does. He'll live with his pain, and you'll live with your pain, and you'll both wake up to it with each other for company. He can do this

He'll still go as far as threatening any medical experts he finds with their demise if they refuse to see either of you and you're not there to stop him, though

[svgvru]

✮ 𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗘 𝗔𝗦𝗞𝗘𝗗: idk if you'll accept this request, but some jjk men x male reader head-canons of them taking care of depressed!reader? (they're secretlyin love with him) maybe a gf or friend died or smth and they notice reader is becoming depressed?

𝗗𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗔𝗖𝗧! ꒰ gojo, geto, nanami, yuuta / m!reader ꒱: mentions of death,depression, weight loss, panic attacks, ptsd, and anxiety. angst, hurt/comfort, these hcs are alot take caution.

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑 isnt for the faint of heart, but sometimes there is no choice. and something that comes with the price of being a sorcerer is that death constantly surrounds you. whether or not your partner is a sorcerer or not, they could be killed at any moment. and you were aware of that, but in the moment pain unlike any other struck. it hurt, it burned, it made you want to throw things, fight, anything to relief the pain. they watched when you brutally killed the cause of your partner's death, anger and grief coated on your face. it hurt for them to see you like this. so broken, unlike how you are normally. when they wished they were with you, that you didn't already have someone, thi sis not what they meant. so they do everything in their power to help you feel better.

SATORU GOJO

꒰ satoru would be the man to give you some space. whether it was him during his teenage years or him in his adult life. he understands how it feels to lose someone, and to grief. so at first he gives youspace, offering help to you if you need it, carefully keeping watch on you while sticking to a distance. and after a while, bandage or blindfold, he could tell something was wrong. you stopped talking, stopped eating, your uniform didn't quite fit anymore. he didn't notice it until he thought about the times youpushed away his generous offers of sweet treats. he noticed the eyebags, and the dullness of your once bright eyes. he had to help.

꒰ the regret (PTSD) that he wasn't able to save his best friend years ago still stuck to him. he mentally punished himself for missing the signs that something was wrong, that suguru needed. there was no way, he was going to let the man he loves so much reach the level that suguru went to. he quicklyand desperately lunged to help. he reached out hishand and no matter if you pushed him away, cursed him out, threw something at him, he'll drop infinity and wrap you in his gargantuan arms and gave you ahug you desprately needed. he gives you the intimacy you pushed away from. he lets you cry on intimacy you pushed away from. he lets you cry on his shoulder, just holding you, no matter how long it takes, he'll hold you until you fall asleep in his arms. he'd never put you down, he probably wouldn't say a word.

꒰ talk? he'll listen. need to punch something? he'll train with you. his hands were gentlewith you, they wipe away your tears and hold you close, giving you the warmth you so desperately need. and slowly but surely he'l encourage you. he'll delicately push you to hang out with him and shoko once in a while. he'll hand you small meals that get abit bigger after a certain time. he'l give you his sweets and ever so carefully slide his hand intoyours. and if you jerk back he won't get mad, hell be hurt, but he understands. he respects your boundaries. but if you let him hold your hand, you'll see the happiest satoru giggling about some prankhe pulled on nanami. he'l slowly do somewhat romantic things, or he'll plan things that force you to socialize.

꒰ would carefully test the waters with you throughtout the years. he never wanted to be too soon with making his feelings known, so he was patient and waited until you looked much healthier. he waits until you finally start choosing to social,choosing to smile, to go on missions again. satoru gojo loves you, he always will, even if you don't love him back. but he'll always make subtle tries. whether it be jokes or slight touches, testing what he can and cannot do. regardless, he's there for you. no matterwhat. he might not be the best at communicating his emotions, or comforting your own. but he lets you know he's there, waiting with a free hug. as afriend or boyfriend. and if he gets to call you his husband? that's even better.

SUGURU GETO

꒰ suguru would also be someone who tries togive you space, but he just doesn't. like most jujutsu sorcerers do, he understands the pain of losing someone. and he knows what happened to himself after amanai's death. he never wants you to go through the same struggle he went through. so while he'l let you grieve how you do, he's paying close attention to and sticking to you, making sure youdon't decline. he'd do anything for you to make youheal correctly instead of just temporaryily stapling the wound like he did. whether that be sitting fully clothed in the bath with you, or being the big spoon and holding you for hours. if you just couldn't keepup with your hygiene like you used to, he'l cut your hair for you, help you brush your teeth. if you really need help bathing, he'll help with that too. he'll just remain extremely concerned for your wellbeing.

꒰ when i say watches you, i mean watches you. there's no "summer stress" excuse with him. (i think) he's one to be gentle with you, while be firm. he's not one to yell at you, but will use a stern voice to encourage you if need be. if you are one to have panic attacks, the first time it happened, it freaked him out. he pretty much didn't leave you after that. however, he learned how to calm you down, how to help. its hurts him to see such a strong man so ruined, and the curse that harmed your partner was by far one of the worst tasting ones. but no matter what, he'll hold you. your back to his chest and his arms wrapped securely around you, encouraging you to take deep breaths, attempting to ground you in any way he could.

꒰ this experience is probably one where the two of you get closer. he'd never, push you too far, or even try anything intimate with you unless you let him. the farthest he's ever gone is maybe a hug that he got a nod of approval for. but if you need it, he'll cradle your head to his chest and likely hum to get you to fall asleep (something he used to do with nanako and mimiko). after a while, his humming isone of the only ways to get you to fall asleep. and he'll do it everytime without fail. suguru wants you, he does. and every night he hums to help you sleephe wishes he could hold you and kiss your foreheadhe wishes he could provide more intimate comfort, he wouldn't dare ask for. however, when your eyes bags start to disappear and your no longer looking as ifyour lugging around your limbs he finds the tiniest bit of hope. but no matter what, suguru is a man of consent. and he'll wait, and wait. carefully takingcare of you, treating you like glass, while hee ncourages you do things. he'll wait until he can finally hold your hand. the time suguru geto would wait for you never has a limit. he'll always wait for you, whether it be with a comforting hug or a kiss.

KENTO NANAMI

꒰ who better to understand you than him? kento nanami who lost his other half, Yuu Haibara, at the age of 16. he understands perfectly, which is why he doesn't leave you alone. if you explicitly ask for space, he'll give it to you. but otherwise, he's not leaving you be at all. he knows your a strong man, he's seen you fight. but nothing could break a man more than losing the person he loves. and he saw you lose your person and his heart broke along with yours. this man cannot stand seeing you sad ordepressed. the second he notices signs that go beyond the five stages of grief, he interferes. like suguru, he's one to be gentle while using a firm tone. he'll hold you like you're glass, but he'll also drag youalong to supervise gojo's students. he'll let you pour your feelinga out on him, but he'll tell you eat a quarter, then a half, then three-fourths, then the whole meal. he won't be aggressive, but he'll still be like.."eat" (gradually over time though! he doesn't want to push you that rough).

꒰ now he coped by being a workaholic, if your that type he has to dive into hypocrite mode and tell you to sit down for once. if you don't cope that way, but another negative way, he will do anything in hispower to stop you. if something he does in particular comforts you, then he'll keep doing it. he'll speak to you calmly, and let you rest your head on hisshoulder despite not being a touchy person. if need be he'll let you sleep over at his apartment and personally cook you breakfast. and despite how annoying gojo may be, kento does recognize that he often raises the atmosphere of the room to being more playful, so he does suggest hanging out with gojo and his students a lot.

꒰ now he's not an intimate person, and i don't think he'd ever try anything intimate with you. he understands that loosing a part of you hurts, and he would never accidentally hurt you by trying to be bold. he'salso not a physically intimate person. so yes, he does love you, so much. he'd do anything for you, but he'd never outright say or show it, especially after your tradegy. even years later, he'd likely not say much about his feelings. someone like gojo would have to convince him to say something to you or else he'l be stuck with the feeling unrequited love till the day he dies. but regardless, he respects boundaries and doesn't try to be as risky. if you don't like him, he'll have to deal with that. if you do decide to give it atry, he's literally ecstatic, but only in his head. he'll give you one his rare smiles and maybe hold yourhand.

YUUTA OKKOTSU

꒰ (OH GOD). yuuta's almost sharing the experience with you. he's re-experiencing what he went through, and he hates it. not that he would regret his relationship rika, but rather he hates that he has to experience you going through what he had to. hes so scrambly and worried. his mind is constantly running through different thoughts and how to help you. he likes you, so of course hell help you. but how? he gets anxious that he's bothering you, thathes making the process worse as he tries to stick toyou and let you talk about it him. (oh, its over for him if your an angry griever). regardless, yuuta has good ears. as in he's a good listener. he'd let you ramble, scream (he'd jump), cry, anything. he'd listen to youand validate your feelings. if you'llet him he'd carefully play with your hair and tell you he understands, he'l tell you how he'll do anything to help. i also think he's fantastic at hugs. to matter how jittery or anxious he may be, if you need a good hug and shoulder to cry on, he's right there.

꒰ when it comes to your physical health, he doesn't play. he's still kind of nervous when it comesto encouraging you. but if he starts to notic eeyebags, or loss in your weight (trust. hell notice), he immediately does everything in his power to help you. and he tries to be as happy as he can, thinking that maybe his happiness would eventually spread to you, or at least boost your attitude. he'd run to youwill a meal the both of you can share so you don't feel intimidating by having to eat a whole meal again, if you stopped. he'd suggest the both of you getting haircuts together if you let your hair grow too long. when it comes to stuff like that he suggets doing it together so you don't feel alone, so you don't feel like your terrible for letting this happen. if your hygiene got bad he'd never ridicule you or anything. yuuta would tell you its okay and like i said, offer getting haircuts for the both of you, offer getting clothes together, he'd try and encorperate your schedules together without being too pushy.

꒰ yuuta would be very nervous when it comes to the fact that he still loves you. the last time he was remotely in love with someone, he got hit by car and he accidentally cursed her. he's never really experienced healthy romance, or a a healthy life. he never really desired love, with the assumption rika would always come in between, preventing him from having healthy human interactions. but when it came to you, he's never wanted a relationship so bad. and he still wants you, but in understanding what its like to lose someone you love, he never pushes. he never tries to touch you too intimately or suggest intimate things. he's patient, he'll wait for you if he needs to. even if you don't like him like that, he'll always be available to you as someone you can go to for anything. he'd be in pain just like he was when you started dating someone else. but he knows its painful and hard to come back from losing someone so important. if you do heal, if you do want him like he wants you, he'd probably cry. but for right now he'll just remain someone you could trust and talk to.

꒰ n: repost from my original acc! i still hope i did this, and their characters, justice tho. ꒱

[kolyubov]

HIII!! (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)/ I so love how you write Fyodor!!! Could I request Fyodor with a wise and optimistic s/o??? (it can be oneshot, headcannons, or drabbles :3)

To add on this, s/o is able to keep up with Fyodor's daily rants about philosophy or literature that includes deep meanings. S/o is sophisticated and quite esoteric with their world views, always drowning themselves in knowledge but never really being able to just fall into pessimism from the amount of awareness.

I just love imagining Fyodor bringing up how all sinners should be exterminated while s/o just completely turns his point around by giving some optimistic thought like, "All sinners are capable of redemption. Virtue reaches its limits once it approaches the complexity of man." (whatever that means) and then Fyodor's all baffled because why is his s/o like this??? And he doesnt even mean it negatively. Hes just shocked.

I feel that Fyodor would find it so refreshing to have an s/o like that. He may be a dedicated man who wouldn't change his plans just because his s/o talked him out of it, but he would still deeply respect his s/o and their views.

I APOLOGIZE IF THIS REQUEST WOULD BE TOO HARD(⁠ᗒ⁠ᗩ⁠ᗕ⁠) please take care and thank youu!! ^_^

Fyodor with an optimistic s/o!

✧ pairing. Fyodor Dostoyevsky x gn!reader

✧ word count. 996

✧ contents. fedya in love

✧ author's note. HIHIII NONNIEEE!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ this request is so interesting! and thank u for liking the way I write Fedya, I try my best <3

I really like this trope. Fyodor being merciless about people and the reader being the complete opposite by being optimistic.

honestly I had to search what esoteric means,,, and I'm still not sure if I understood it correctly (╥﹏╥)

I hope you like this and I'm sorry that this took so long :((

It's impossible to change Fyodor's view of the world, the society, or its people. As much as you try to convince him of the opposite —with solid proof— of his negative beliefs in certain topics, he refuses to accept them. Of course, he utterly respects your opinion; you're very smart and he knows you have knowledge about whatever topic in hand you two might be facing, as well as many others.

You think it's maybe because of the way he lived; the things one experiences are the main reason why someone acts or thinks the way they do, most of the time. So, that means that Fyodor probably had experience meeting lots of people who were “sinful” and “foolish” as he describes them in every single deep conversation that the two of you have.

Aside from the debates, Fyodor adores being able to discuss philosophical things with you— his lovely partner turning serious as he speaks, carefully listening to everything he has to say with those big eyes just makes him fall deeper in love. He's never going to directly tell you how much he enjoys it, you just have to get the hint.

Currently, Fyodor was sitting on his desk, his ushanka resting on the table among a few documents scattered on the surface— documents with government agents' faces on them and long paragraphs, a lot of words were underlined with fluorescent highlighter.

He was completely immersed in his work until he felt a pair of soft hands massaging his tensed shoulders; which was enough for him to lose focus.

“Fedya, do you not feel tired?” Your words make him sigh. Maybe he was overworking himself again, but that doesn't matter when all of this is in order to purge the world from sin.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the gentle rub on his back that is eventually making him feel drowsy. Regardless of how dangerous of a man Fyodor is, the touch of his beloved reduces him into a soft lovesick puppy— though he tries to hide it.

A smile spreads across his face when you turn his head to the side, hooking a finger under his chin, and pressing a tender kiss on his cold lips that leaves him yearning for more when you pull away.

“Leaving so fast?” He asks when he sees that you're walking away. You might as well take responsibility for distracting him from his work. “Wouldn’t you prefer to have a small chit-chat with me?”

And since you have nothing else better to do, you decide to walk back to his desk, sitting across from him.

“You see, sweetheart, I have been reading these papers for the next meeting… All of these are government members who belong to the plague that must be eliminated from the world for the sake of it. They’re sinners.”

He leans back against his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Sinners tend to be selfish, only chasing their own tail in circles like a lost dog, doing anything for their own primal desires and then being hypocrites about it.”

A small laugh leaves his lips as he tilts his head to the side; Clearly, he knows this is the time when you're going to refute.

“People are not sinners forever...” You murmur while looking down at the papers, trying to give it a quick read, but Fyodor could perfectly hear your sweet voice in that slightly pouty tone.

Even as his partner you know you can’t change the way he thinks or stop him from reaching his vile goals, and as much as you don’t like seeing other people's lives slip away by Fyodor’s hands, you can’t do anything about it.

“Oh, love. I feel like if you were in my place, looking at all these faces and the stories behind them, you'd think otherwise.”

“No, Fedya.”

Fyodor's eyes widen at the way you said it, a stern tone that immediately gets his attention.

“Humans are fragile things, in body and mind.” You look at him straight into his eyes, not realizing how serious you sound by now, “And their mind can be corrupted by different situations they face during their short life…”

The man in front of you raises an eyebrow, carefully listening.

“That's how they turn “sinners”, by suffering through their life, but I think that they can be saved… not in the way you think, not by being exterminated… ending their lives is not the solution.”

“Then what do you think the solution is?”

Your eyes follow Fyodor as he stands up slowly, taking slow steps before standing behind you, “I'm all ears, dear.” The way he says it sounds menacing as he places a kiss on your cheek.

“Sinners are capable of redemption… There are a lot of ways one can be ‘saved’, some people might choose God, and others might choose their family or friends, but what matters is the capacity one has to be able to get out from the dark pit of suffering to stop being selfish and sinful.”

You don't dare to look at Fyodor, afraid of what he might think, afraid he thinks your optimistic way of thinking is just dumb.

But then you hear his soft laugh as he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks with his thumb and index finger, “You're so cute.” A nervous laugh escapes your lips, and before you can speak, his lips are over yours.

Truth be told, he does take you very seriously, but his heart flutters each time you show that smart side of yours. Fyodor feels proud of having you by his side.

As he pulls away, he pecks your cheek again, “You surprise me every time, dear.” He walks back to his seat, still smiling softly at you.

“I'd like to keep talking to you but at the same time, I need to work… So why don't you help me choose who deserves to be my first victim to be saved?”

© 2024 pinklacydovey

[wooziorgans]

2. damage gets done || ljh

summary: a long, difficult conversation puts y/n and jihoon on the same page, but an impromptu visit from y/n’s parents make that page seem chapters away. the best way to get over your feelings? fucking them out.

pairing: idol!woozi x male soloist!reader

genre: angst. smut. fluff. hurt/comfort.

warnings: bi-curious reader. reader has hella daddy issues. homophobia. internalized homophobia. reader has a panic attack of sorts?. readers parents show up n it all goes to shit. readers dad is super homophobic. fingering. sword crossing. jihoon gets his boobs sucked. nipple play. hickeys. kinda mean dom reader. soft dom reader. top reader. mentions of blood/tearing something during sexual activity (not detailed). anal sex. bottom jihoon. sub jihoon like hardcore. unprotected sex. blowjobs. big dick jihoon. bigger dick reader. stomach bulge. aftercare. crying. woozi in glasses n a bun.

word count: 10k

a/n: i did not mean for this to be so angsty i am sooo sorry abt this chapter but it comes w the premise of the prompt im writing off of. i am still sick but i got this done finally. (everybody cheered)

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The following morning, and subsequent weeks after you slept with Jihoon are weird. There’s a new rhythm the two of you fall into, but it’s not an immediate change. 

You brushed him off the morning after, locking yourself in your room until it was time to head to the studio, and then avoiding him until he came banging on your door, begging to talk it out. He sounded so hurt; something you’ve only heard in his voice a few times, and never directed towards you. Despite your own internal turmoil, you would not let Jihoon brood in his own feelings. When you did finally let him in to your room, he shyly confessed that he thought he had come onto you too strong, that he was worried he had fucked up your friendship irreversibly. 

That wasn’t the case at all. You needed some time to process what had happened last night, but you needed to do it away from Jihoon. His presence had felt overwhelming that morning, and you needed some time to really digest the fact that you sucked your best friend's dick and then he gave you the most mind blowing head you’ve ever received. You told him such, and his cheeks flushed a deep red at the admittance that he was that good at sucking dick. You also apologized for not communicating that to him earlier in the day.

Jihoon took it like a champ, hardly able to hold eye contact with you when he asked what it meant in terms of your friendship now. Respectively, there was your life before Jihoon, your life during the beginning blossoms of friendship with him sprouting its tiny little buds to bloom into something beautiful, and there was now. You’ve never felt so understood by anyone before or after Jihoon, and losing that because you enjoyed having your tongue inside his ass would be a shame. “Nothing has to change. Of course, it kind of has… but we don’t have to make it weird.” You said, hand reaching out to grab his in reassurance. 

You could see the anxiety creasing his face, and it dissolved once you touched him. The two of you were just so close as friends that it made sense to keep being friends. If anything else happens, it happens. That was what you told him. 

Things did start happening, but it took a few days of unusual distance between the two of you until you got fed up with it and pulled his head down on your lap as you watched television together. You just sat like that, hand in his hair in the way it always was, and things were normal. They had changed slightly, but they were normal. 

Until they weren’t. Still half asleep, Jihoon found you in the kitchen one morning making coffee. He wrapped his arms around your waist, bare chest pressing into the skin of your back. Out of reflex, he began pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulders. You shuddered, instinct kicking in to push him away, but then you took a few seconds to really feel his lips on your skin, and you let it happen. 

You had spun him around to kiss him on the lips, which ended up in a heated makeout session with Jihoon trapped between you and the counter. He dropped to his knees, pulling your cock out of its constraints before taking you tip to base into his mouth. He had you cumming in minutes, messy bed head in his face until your hands brushed it back, eyes still half lidded with sleep. Jihoon pulled off right as you started to cum, tongue out as he let the thick white ropes hit his mouth and face. 

Then he got up and walked away. You heard the shower run as you stood there, gripping the counter as you caught your breath. Later, once he was showered you asked him what the fuck that was about. He just shrugged, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “I’m always horny in the mornings,” was all he offered as he took a seat beside you on the couch. 

This prompted another long conversation about the direction things were going. The biggest, and hardest change for both of you to agree on was to stop saying I love you. It was something that came quite naturally in your friendship; at the end of every phone call, leaving each other after hanging out, before you snuck off into your respective rooms for the night, you always said it. Both of you agreed that if you were going to start doing the whole friends with benefits thing, that aspect of your dynamic needed to be null and void to prevent anything more complicated from happening. 

After that, things did change. Instead of hiding out in your rooms when you needed to get off, you’d find each other. The biggest change was that you just… kiss each other now. In the mornings, when you have a few minutes alone in the studio, while watching anime together, before you go to bed. Most of the time, it doesn’t go anywhere, but sometimes it does, and you pull Jihoon into your lap to grind against each other. 

You’ve learned a lot about Jihoon since all of this started. He’s quite needy, though he’ll never tell you that with his words; opting to tug at your sleeves when he wants something, or just goes after it if he lacks the energy to play the subtle cat and mouse game. You fingered him for the first time a few weeks ago, and discovered that he loves prostate stimulation. It renders him completely spent, has him gasping and whining against you in a way you can never seem to get enough of. 

You’ve also learned that Jihoon is super big on aftercare. He says it’s important, which you know it is. You were always the one doing the aftercare with previous sexual partners, but Jihoon takes the reins sometimes and wipes your skin down with a warm cloth while peppering you skin with soft kisses as you come down. You’ve never really been taken care of before, but it’s nice. You and Jihoon have fallen into a natural rhythm with each other. You’re typically in control because Jihoon is rather submissive, but he has his moments where he has you losing your grasp on reality. 

It’s so nice; being taken care of. You run a bath for the both of you after you finger him, not wanting there to be any discomfort for him later, and he takes that time to help you wash up. Though your relationship is now quite sexual in its nature, the bones of your friendship peak through in the aftermath. 

It’s not all smooth sailing. You have moments of deep, intense panic after getting off with Jihoon. It’s quite sporadic; one day you’ll be fine, the next you’ll do the same thing and hate yourself for it. Jihoon refuses to leave you alone when you're like that, no matter how much you insist. He knows you can’t be left alone to your own thoughts when so much is still being internalized, and you know he’s right. 

Most nights you fall asleep with each other, half of it being a safety measure to make sure you don’t overthink in the morning, the other an instinctual craving for another person's warmth. Jihoon sleeps better when you’re there; his normal bouts of insomnia slipping away as he envelopes himself in your arms. 

Waking up next to Jihoon has to be one of the sweetest things you’ve ever had the privilege of experiencing. He doesn’t wake up grumpy per se, but he does whine when you go to pull away. His lips are always puffed out in a pout as you try and put a little space between the two of you. He grabs onto your shirt to keep you in bed, burying his face into your chest as he whines incoherently. 

This morning is no different. It’s been three months since your friendship with Jihoon morphed into something that required you to have a lot more trust in each other. You fall asleep in Jihoon’s bed almost every night now, waking up next to him all the same. 

Today, he’s particularly whiny, fists tight in your shirt as he tries to convince you to stay close to him with soft kisses to your neck and jaw. The issue with this is that Jihoon radiates heat like a furnace. You’re overheating, sweat beading on your forehead as you try to push him off of you. It’s futile; all he does is grab onto you tighter. “Angel, please. You’re gonna boil me alive like this.” You plead, finally kicking the covers off of you. He whines again, finally giving you a little space. Jihoon’s grip on your shirt loosens as he rolls onto his back. 

The bun he put into his hair before he went to bed is loose and messy. Jihoon huffs out a breath before he gets out of bed and heads to the bathroom. You almost miss the morning wood he’s sporting, somehow never noticing it against your thigh.

You lay there, catching your breath and cooling down as you wait for him to return. Jihoon is back ten minutes later, bun in his hair fixed and neat, with thick rimmed black glasses on his face. He’s been wearing them a lot recently, not that you mind. He looks good in glasses, despite his eyesight being fine. The new addition to his face distracts you from what's missing. 

Jihoon has discarded his boxers, cock fully erect against his stomach as he crawls onto your lap. He seems more awake now as his hands find the hem of your sleep shorts. Even just seeming him so clearly hard has your cock twitching. You were already half hard from the way he pushed himself on you earlier. 

You sit up, back leaning against the pillows as your hands settle on his hips. Jihoon palms you through your shorts, teasing you carefully before he pulls your cock out. He plants a soft kiss to your lips, letting it linger as he shifts his hips forward. Your cocks bump into each other, and both of you moan lowly. Jihoon spits into his hand, wrapping it around both of you.

Initially, the concept of rubbing your dick against another mans freaked you out when Jihoon suggested it, but you ended up enjoying it a lot more than you thought you would, especially with Jihoon’s hand in the mix. It became something you did often enough, mostly when you fingered him. “Cleaned myself out. Need your fingers or I’ll lose my mind.” He sighs, eyes closing carefully. Your hand falls to his ass, middle finger carefully finding its way to his entrance. You can feel the remnants of lube around his hole, and instead of stalling, you push the tip of your finger inside of him.

Jihoon clearly wasn’t expecting that, that much is obvious when he squeaks out a choked moan, head falling into your neck to hide the flush spreading over his face. 

“Needy this morning, are we?” You jest, voice still low with sleep. Jihoon rolls his hips down on your finger, taking it deeper.

“Fuck, clearly.” He laughs softly. “You can add another, I can take it.” Jihoon’s ass sucks your finger in as you prod at it with a second. While you could slip a second finger in, there's not enough lube present for that. You’re quite cautious when it comes to fingering him; the second time you did it, you ended up tearing something. It wasn’t a huge deal, Jihoon wasn’t in any pain, but there was a little blood. 

“I know you can, angel. Grab the lube for me, yeah?” You prompt. The bottle of lube now has a permanent spot on the bedside table from how often it gets used. It’s almost empty. Jihoon rolls his eyes at you, reaching over to grab it. Your hand follows his hips, still keeping your finger inside of him as he moves. He doesn’t move far. You pull your finger out of him once he’s settled back on your lap. He whines, grabbing at your shirt as you take the lube from him. With both of your hands focused on something else and not him, he rolls his hips up, cocks brushing against each other as his grip around them tightens. 

You pause your movements, finger stalling on the pump of the bottle. Jihoon flattens his palm against your chest, repeating the motion again. You hiss softly, bottom lip finding purchase between your teeth to silence yourself. You know Jihoon is doing this on purpose to try and get a response out of you. While you’re not a grunt as you cum guy, you’re not necessarily vocal either. Jihoon wants to hear you, and if he has to play dirty, then he’ll do that. You, however, are having none of it. 

Regaining your grasp on reality, you press the pump of the bottle, squirting lube onto your fingers. Not bothering to properly lather them, your hand moves back to Jihoon entrance. You save the build up and push both of them in, immediately getting a response from Jihoon. You push both fingers in until you can’t, twisting your wrist so your palm is now brushing his balls. 

Jihoon rolls his hips again. “Angel, let me do the work. You just sit here and look pretty.” Your hand finds its way up his shirt, pushing the fabric up so that you can place a kiss to the pale skin of his chest. Your lips brush his nipple, and his back arches into your touch as he moans. Jihoon tries to push himself further down onto your fingers. You pull away from his chest, eyes narrowing in a warning. Jihoon just blinks down at you, before doing it again.

“What did I just say?” It’s a rhetorical question, one asked to try and stop him from doing that, but Jihoon answers you anyway.

“Dunno,” He huffs out, and you can see from the look in his eyes and the slight smirk on his lips that he does know what you just said. He rolls his hips again, fist tightening around both of your dicks as he tries to make you move your fingers inside of him. It feels so overwhelmingly good, that you momentarily forget your need to assert yourself as you latch your mouth around his nipple. Jihoon whines quietly, grip tightening in your shirt and around your cocks.

Jihoon removes his hand from your chest to hold his shirt up. You decide to give him what he wants for now, flicking your tongue against the sensitive pink bud on his chest. He’s so responsive to each pull and tug on his nipple, back arching as he pants softly. All you can hear are his moans, and they pull you out of whatever headspace you fell into. You pull away from his chest with a lewd, wet pop. His pec shines with your split, the skin around his nipple a light bruise from the suction. Jihoon rolls his hips again, desperate for more at the loss of contact. 

Your hand falls back on his ass, spreading him apart as you slowly fuck him with your fingers. Jihoon’s cock starts to leak, slick precum dripping down his shaft, over his milky knuckles and off onto the dark fabric of your shirt. “I’ve hardly even done anything, angel.” You grip the soft flesh of his ass harshly. “Since you want to do everything by yourself, even though I told you to just sit pretty.” He huffs softly at you, rolling his eyes as he thrusts up into his hand. 

Out of pure reflex, your hand cracks down on his ass. Hard. Jihoon’s breath stutters, movements immediately stopping. “Oh. Oh, shit.” He hisses softly, eyes watering softly at the contact. You can’t see it, but from the way the skin of his ass is burning, you’re pretty sure there is a noticeable handprint. Immediately, you rub the skin of his ass softly to soothe the sting. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Your voice sounds like a breath with how unsure you are with what just happened. “I shouldn't've–” Jihoon cuts you off by pulling you in for a kiss. It’s dirty; all tongue and spit and the quiet whines that slip up and out of his throat. When he pulls back, he's out of breath and red in the face.

“Fuck, do that again. Please.” Jihoon rolls his hips to prompt you into punishing him, and you give him what he wants. Jihoon’s lips part, pink and pretty as he moans out when your hand makes contact with his ass again.

“Y’know,” you bite, “if we had the time and the lube, I would fuck the attitude out of you.” Your hand cracks down on his ass again, kneading the flesh once it’s in your palm. Jihoon moans, head falling back.

“Keep talking to me like that and I’ll cum.” He chokes out through a strained laugh. You push your fingers in deeper, twisting them to elicit a sharp moan from him. “I never did take you for a dirty talker.” You laugh softly.

“You sure its not the idea of me fucking you that’s getting you going?” You ignore his attempt at banter, opting to instead rile him up a bit more. At your suggestion, Jihoon moans again. You twist your fingers again, angling them back towards you and hitting his prostate perfectly. He rolls his hips again, much to your dismay.

Another sharp crack to his ass. This time you spread him apart. “Shit, fuck, ‘m sorry.” He gasps. You stop thrusting your fingers inside of him, and instead focus on just milking his prostate. He whines, eyes rolling back in his head as he finally listens to you and stops the movement of his hips. 

“It's not so hard to listen to me, is it angel?” You keep your pace on his prostate brutal. Jihoon seems to fall apart on your fingers, muscles twitching as he just takes it. “God, you’re so fucked out right now that all you can do is listen to me.” Jihoon just nods weakly, dark frames slipping down his face. You push them back up his face, planting a soft kiss on his lips. 

He’s barely able to return it, lips parted as he pants and moans. Everything around Jihoon feels like white noise. His grip on your cocks tightens, and you know he's right there. You’re getting quite close too, cock twitching against Jihoon’s at the sounds he's making. 

A few more prods directly to his prostate, and Jihoons cock is shooting thick, white ropes that stain the dark fabric of your t-shirt. The soft sounds he’s making are so erotic as the last of his cum leaks down his fist. You pull your fingers out of him, wiping them on your shirt before you reach up to pet his hair. The dark strands that are too short to fit in his bun frame his face. 

Jihoon’s refractory period is rather short. He slides down your legs, moving his hand to his mouth to lick it clean of his own release. He pushes the glasses back up his nose before he takes you into his mouth. Tip to base as always, he holds you in his throat for a few seconds and it’s all you need before you’re cumming down it. 

Jihoon sputters softly, almost like he’s about to gag. He doesn’t though; just tightens his throat around you until you’ve finished completely. When he pulls off, he’s panting softly, eyes watery as he lays down beside you to catch his breath. 

You’re fairing no better, out of breath from the force of your orgasm. Jihoon seems to have that effect on you. Both of you just lay there, panting until you regain the energy to move. You move first, pulling your sleep shorts back up over your now soft cock, before throwing your cum covered shirt off. Jihoon stares at you, eyes raking over your chest and shoulders. You laugh softly when he looks away after you catch him. “What?” You jest, sitting up.

“Nothing.” Jihoon huffs, crossing his arms and rolling over, away from you. “You’re hot.” He whispers, but you still catch him in the act. You can see the tips of his ears turning red. You lean over him, pushing your hand down on his shoulder so he turns back on his back. 

Jihoon attempts to cover his face with his hands. You pull his slender hands away from his face, planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose before moving to his lips. His face is beet red from the domesticity of the action, glasses knocking into your cheek at the strange angle. “Let’s get ready. You have practice in an hour.” You whisper, moving the hair out of his face with a feather-like touch. 

Immediately, Jihoon shoots up, glancing at the clock. “Oh, shit.” He all but throws himself off the bed, digging through his closet to find clothes. You throw your head back in a hearty laugh, completely enamoured with amusement at Jihoon’s sudden change in demeanour.

“You’re really tense.” Seungkwan jabs a finger into your shoulder. The practice room is buzzing with noise during the fifteen minute break everyone is taking. From the other side of the room, Jihoon watches Seungkwan intensely. Seungkwan digs the heel of his hand into your back, attempting to untie the knot in your shoulder. You sigh softly. 

“My parents are coming for dinner tonight.” You roll your eyes softly, cracking your shoulder as you stretch. You catch Jihoon’s eye as you look around. He’s hardly paying any attention to his conversation with Soonyoung as he glares daggers into Seungkwan. You stifle a laugh at his obvious annoyance at someone else's hands on you.

“Oh. Oh shit.” You see Seungkwan’s eyes widen in the large mirror. You just shake your head, laughing softly at his reaction. “And you’re meeting at a restaurant or…?” You shake your head again.

“No, the apartment.” You exhale sharply when Seungkwan hits a sensitive part of your shoulder, close to your neck. 

“With Jihoon?” He asks, working the spot with much more care than before. “Yeah… yeah, it’s… yeah.” Is all you can manage.

“I imagine that’ll go… swimmingly.” He huffs, slightly miffed at even imagining the situation. “Your dad’s still…?” Seungkwan trails off. 

“Yeah. I’m not gonna say anything but… if he starts anything I will tell him to leave.” It’s almost uncharacteristic, the way you’re speaking about kicking your father out, when you’ve spent years tolerating his beliefs in passive compliance, far too scared of him to actually say anything about them. 

You watch Jihoon leave his conversation to go sit against the wall. He’s still watching you and Seungkwan intensely, eyes narrowing as Seungkwan keeps working on your shoulder. “I know it probably doesn’t mean much coming from me, but it’s good that you’re standing your ground.” You laugh, because it does mean a lot to hear something like that out loud. 

“Thank you. I don’t know if I’ll actually be able to stand up to him when it comes down to it, but the fact that I’m even thinking about it is… good.” You stifle another sound when Seungkwan focuses his attention on your other shoulder. You can’t exactly tell Seungkwan what has changed. You can’t exactly tell him you’ve been fucking around with one of his bandmates. You can tell him other things, so you do as he works out your shoulders. 

“There. All better?” He asks, as he releases his grip on your shoulders. You nod, humming softly as you stand up. “Go talk to Jihoon. He’s brooding.” Seungkwan must have noticed how tense Jihoon was throughout the duration of your conversation. 

“Maybe he needs a massage too.” You jest, knees cracking as you stand. Seungkwan cringes at the sound.

“Oh, he’d kill me if I even tried to.” He laughs, patting your back to send you on your way. You walk over to Jihoon, taking a seat on the floor next to him.

“What’s got you in such a mood, angel?” You whisper, voice low so no one is able to hear the pet name you use. 

“Nothing. I’m not in a mood.” He hisses, leaning back against the wall. Jihoon’s bun is looser now. You’ve seen him take it down and redo it five separate times during the practice you decided to sit in on. You chuckle, patting his thigh softly.

“You’re brooding.” You state.

“I am not brooding.” Jihoon rolls his eyes at you, expression completely flat. He is brooding.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, angel.” When he doesn’t say anything, you laugh a little louder. “Oh my god, you are. Over Kwan? Really?” Jihoon pinches your arm to get you to shut up.

“Stop, seriously. Why would I be jealous?” He snaps.

“Take it easy. I’m just teasing you.” You brush his thigh with your thumb. “But if you want to take things so seriously, maybe I will have to fuck the attitude out of you afterall.” Jihoon’s demeanour immediately changes. His face starts to burn and his eyes go wide.

“Y/N, stop. What if someone hears you talk like that?” He whispers, despite the fact that everyone else is busy on the other side of the practice room, and far too loud to even hear you if you were talking at a normal volume. All you want to do is lean over and kiss him to distract him from his paranoia. You don’t. Instead, you smile softly at him, giving his thigh a soft squeeze. You know if you keep talking to him like that, he’ll potentially pop a boner in the middle of practice, and he’d never forgive you for that, even if it’s hypothetical. 

“Get back to practice, angel. I’ll see you at home.” You stand as you notice everyone else slowly getting back into their places to resume practice. Jihoon follows you, stretching as he stands.

After panic cleaning the entire apartment in an hour, and being sure to hide any and all evidence of your sexual relationship with Jihoon, you finally take a moment to breathe as the text from your mom comes in. Your parents are stopping to get gas, and then they’ll be at your apartment. 

You have roughly ten minutes before the storm rolls in, and in all honesty, you’re not entirely sure if you’ve had enough time to prepare. Jihoon started grilling the chicken you seasoned last night in preparation for your parents arrival, insisting that you take a minute and get your shit together. 

You don’t know why you’re so nervous. There are many reasons. For starters, your father isn’t the most open minded person out there and your roommate and best friend is a gay man. You have no plans of mentioning that. You and Jihoon talked about it on the ride home, and have briefly discussed your relationship with your father before. It’s a mutual agreement that Jihoon’s love life is off the table for discussion tonight. 

You also haven’t really seen your parents long enough to share a meal in the last year; at least not since you were with your ex-girlfriend. That was nearly a year ago at this point. Last time you saw your parents, you were straight. And, well, now you’re not. At least not completely. 

Jihoon emerges from the kitchen, immediately walking over to you when he notices you pacing across the living room. He grips your forearms tightly, stopping you in your tracks. 

You look down at him, anxiety easing up a bit once you’re in his presence. “Stop pacing, you’re gonna wear a hole through the floor.” He laughs hesitantly, unsure if his joke will land. You laugh quietly alongside him, leaning down to kiss him softly.

“Sorry, I’m just nervous.” He gets on his toes to kiss you once more. Jihoon smiles at you with so much tenderness it makes your chest tighten softly.

“I know,” he breathes, hand finding its way up to the back of your neck to play with the hair. “But you’ll be okay.” He gives you another soft kiss.

You wrap your arms around his waist, holding him for a few moments before the buzzer to your building sounds throughout the apartment. You fix the loose strands that frame Jihoon’s face, smoothing down the bumps in his worn bun before you pull away to unlock the door for your parents. The obvious nerves on your face manifest themselves as your hand shakes when you go to open the door. 

Jihoon busies himself in the kitchen, carefully watching the chicken and rice. The vegetables are done, placed on the back burner with the lid on to keep them warm. Jihoon can hear your mom’s bright voice as she pulls you into a tight hug. “Oh, you’ve gotten so muscular!” She chimes, and your bright laughter sounds the entire apartment. 

Jihoon’s heart tightens at the sound. He hasn’t heard you laugh like that in a while, warm and lovely. He pushes the feeling down as he flips the spatula in his hand, eyes suddenly blurry as he takes a deep breath to ground himself. Now is not the time for this. Get a grip; be in love with him later. 

The gruffness of your fathers voice pulls Jihoon back into the kitchen. He stirs aimlessly as he hears footsteps getting closer. You and your mom are already deep in conversation. You’re explaining the concept of your next album to her animatedly, hands flailing in a makeshift diagram. Jihoon catches your eye, and you smile softly before telling your parents to take a seat.

You step into the kitchen to get your parents drinks, coffee already brewed and hot. Jihoon doesn’t acknowledge you, purely focused on flipping chicken. You resist the urge to snake your arm around his waist, something you always do now when cooking. He shuts off the burner for the chicken, placing the lid on the pan to keep the heat in. As you pour your dad a cup of black coffee, you hum softly to get Jihoon’s attention. 

He finally looks at you, expression completely blank. “You okay?” You whisper. Your parents are talking quietly in the dining room, and your fathers voice suddenly makes the air unsettling.  

Jihoon hums softly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good, I just feel a little weird.” You nod, giving his shoulder a brief squeeze. You pour your mom a cup of cool water, juggling the cups in each hand. Jihoon laughs softly. 

“Come say hi?” You ask in an attempt to pull him out of the kitchen and his thoughts. “You don’t have to, but my mom wants to meet you.” Jihoon swallows hard, before he follows you out of the kitchen. Your mom smiles brightly at the sight of Jihoon’s unfamiliar face. 

“You must be the roommate.” Your mom greets, hand held out to shake his hand. Her hospitality in his own home catches Jihoon off guard. He takes a second to get his bearings before he shakes her hand, a soft smile on his lips. He pushes his glasses back up his face as he takes a seat. 

Your father doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t make any attempt to introduce himself, but that’s probably for the better. Your mom pulls Jihoon into a conversation quickly. You watch them talk, eyeing your father every so often. His gaze is focused entirely on Jihoon, almost like he’s trying to dissect him piece by piece. You know that look. It makes your skin crawl. 

Jihoon excuses himself to use the bathroom, and once he’s gone your father takes the opportunity to speak his mind, much to your dismay. “That Jihoon is quite… feminine, especially with his hair like that.” You roll your eyes internally at your fathers words. “Your  hair is quite long too.” Your undercut has grown out a few inches, now making your hair much more flowy than it used to be with the new length. It’s not even that long, but any display of anything that isn’t cold cut masculinity seems to irk your father. “Quit it.” Your mom hisses quietly, though it seems to fall on deaf ears.

“You’re not associating yourself with queers are you? You’re not becoming one yourself, are you son?” He asks, and it seems to snap something inside of you; knowing he’d never be able to interact with Jihoon normally if you were upfront about everything.

“No! Jesus Christ, would you cut it out?” You snap, as you hear the bathroom door open. Jihoon appears in your line of sight as he walks down the hallway back to the table. Jihoon can see the tension in your face. Your father would have no problem ripping you a new asshole for snapping at him like that in front of other people when you were younger, but he doesn’t say anything. He just glares at you, and Jihoon once he takes a hesitant seat back at the table. 

Your mom dissolves the tension by talking to Jihoon again, though you can still feel the edges of your frustration bubbling as your father just watches. The rice cooker beeps, and you and Jihoon both stand at the same time to go bring out plates and the food. “Will you be joining us for dinner, Jihoon?” Your mom asks, slightly hopeful, and you can already tell she’s taken a liking to him. Jihoon hesitates for a few seconds, eyes meeting yours.

“Uh, no, sorry. I have a late schedule tonight, otherwise I would.” Jihoon laughs softly, both of you know it's at the half-assed lie falling past his lips, but neither of your parents know any better. Still, your heart sinks softly in your chest. You gave Jihoon the option for an out tonight, and he’s taking it.

“Let me grab your headphones that I borrowed.” You say softly, motioning with your head for Jihoon to follow you into your bedroom. Both of you leave your parents at the table to have a few moments alone amidst the disaster that is, and always has been, a family dinner. 

Jihoon sits on your bed, unfamiliar with the way your bed frame creaks. “I heard him.” He whispers, and you feel a small part of yourself die. 

Jihoon had told you, years ago, that he hated when people made him feel small. Not only physically, but emotionally. He hated the way it made him feel so helpless. In this situation, Jihoon is completely helpless. Whether your mom unearths something through conversation that he’d rather not have out on the table, or if your father starts grilling him about his rather feminine features and flamboyant mannerisms, Jihoon is destined to feel small in this situation. So he’s doing what’s best for the time being; he’s leaving, taking himself out of the equation so no more damage can get done. Your father’s already suspicious of something, and Jihoon would rather not let you take the blunt end of its force by him being around to spark up that suspicion. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” You choke out. Jihoon stands up to grab your hand carefully.

“No, I’m sorry that I can’t stick it out and support you. I just, I can’t force myself to be in a situation like this right now.” He kisses your neck softly. It does very little to calm your anxiety which is running rampant at the moment. Your eyes start to glaze over and Jihoon shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing. He gets on his toes to kiss you properly, lets it linger until the tension in your face eases. “Just breathe, you’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me. I’m just going to the gym since we didn’t have time this morning.” He brushes your grown-out bangs to the side. 

Jihoon’s gaze is so incredibly tender, so careful, that it does calm you down. “Okay,” you breathe out, hand coming up to hold the side of his neck. 

“I know we agreed to stop saying it because of our situation, but please remember that I love you. You’re more resilient than you think, Y/N.” Jihoon’s hand finds its spot on top of yours as he leans into your touch. You laugh quietly at his attempt to encourage you; still, it works.

“I know,” You whisper. “Love you too.” 

Jihoon pats your chest softly with an open fist. “Give me back my headphones.” He whispers, and you laugh softly, pulling away from him to go retrieve the headphones you borrowed. You did borrow his headphones, so it’s not like you’re completely lying to your parents. You grab them off of your desk, placing them around his neck before you lean down for one last kiss. Jihoon squeezes your shoulder in reassurance before he heads off to his room to grab his gym bag.

You leave your room to go back and brave your parents while you set the table and bring the food out. Jihoon says goodbye to your mom on the way out, and then he’s gone, lock clicking softly behind him. 

There’s not much conversation as you eat, other than your parents praising the food and telling you how excited they are to see your aunt in Busan. The entire time, your father is eyeing you carefully. You ignore it, until he asks to use the bathroom on the way out. “First door on the right.” You guide.

Once he’s gone, your mom decides to speak. Her voice is shaky, a clear indication of her hesitancy around the question she’s about to ask. “You and Jihoon, you’re not dating are you?” It catches you off guard, makes you lose balance even though you were standing perfectly still seconds before. If you had a drink, it would’ve been spat out, all over your poor mother. 

“What?! No!” You gasp, in hushed shock. Your mom just shakes her head softly.

“You’ve never looked at anyone like that before. You’ve never brought anyone home, and you live with him. It’s not unreasonable for a mom to want her son to be happy, is it?” You sputter for a few seconds before she keeps going. “I know we haven’t had time to have that conversation yet, but I can see he makes you happy. Whatever’s going on between the two of you, if it makes you happy then it’s worth something.” She squeezes your shoulder softly.

Before you have time to reply, the bathroom door opens and your father approaches the porch to slip his shoes on. 

“Drive safe.” You offer in an attempt to break the unusual amount of silence.

“We will. Call sometime, yeah? You know I worry.” Your mom ruffles your hair softly, a habit she never dropped from your childhood. You grimace, and she smiles.

“I will, I will. It’ll be dark when you get there.” You open the door for them, ushering them outside into the hallway. 

“I love you.” Your mom hums, fumbling with the keys in her hand.

“I love you too. Text me when you get there.” Your mom hums again, waving as they begin to walk to the elevator. You don’t watch them until they're gone. Instead, you close the door, stepping back inside, and take a deep breath.

You start the tedious task of cleaning up, packing leftovers for Jihoon into glass containers and putting away ingredients that were forgotten in the chaos. You notice barely a cup of rice left in the container, and decide to distract yourself with a trip to the shop; not before you call Jihoon to tell him you might not be home when he gets back. He keeps the call short, knowing he has a set of five to finish and that you use shopping as a way to decompress. 

You also pick up another bottle of lube, mask pulled tightly over your face, cap pulled down as you use the self checkout, shoving the bottle in the pocket of your hoodie. When you return home, the kitchen light is on again, which means Jihoon is home. You told him about the leftovers on the phone, and when you put away the rice, you checked the fridge to see the containers weren't there. The sink is empty, which means he already washed them. 

Sometimes you think Jihoon is a godsend, and this is one of those moments. 

The shower seems to be running in his suite, and you take the opportunity to change into plaid pyjama pants, forgoing a shirt altogether. With nothing else to do, and simply wanting Jihoon’s company, you wait for him on his bed, the new bottle of lube replacing the old ones spot on top of the bedside table.

The shower stops, and you hear the whirl of the blow dryer for a few minutes. That stops too. The various clinking noises from the bathroom stop, and the door opens. Jihoon pads into his bedroom, a silky black robe covering his naked torso. He jumps at the sight of you on his bed, shirt somewhere else as you sit against the headboard. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” He laughs softly, walking towards you. “I didn’t know you were home.” You spread your legs, patting your thigh for him to join you.

Jihoon does as you silently request, thick thighs straddling your waist as he takes a seat on top of you. His hair is still a little damp as it brushes your neck when he leans in for a kiss. You return it slowly, taking your time to lap at his mouth. Jihoon moans quietly, fingers brushing over your chest and shoulders as you kiss him stupid. 

Your hands find his ass naturally, gripping and kneading the flesh softly over the silk of his robe. You push the fabric up, over his ass to have direct access to the hem of his boxers. Jihoon moans again when you deliver a soft slap to the area over his briefs. Your hand makes contact with the material, and instead of going back in for another one, you grip the flesh of his ass harshly, pulling him apart. 

You move two fingers towards his hole to tease him, and that’s when you feel it.

Something foreign and geometric greets your fingers. It’s warm from his body heat, but still colder than the rest of his skin. Both of you still, and Jihoon turns his face away from you to hide his embarrassment. “What’s this, angel?” You ask, pushing your fingers directly against the object. Jihoon squeaks softly, body jolting before he lets out a low moan.

He doesn’t say anything, just rocks his hips back against yours, and you can tell from the movement of his face against your neck that his bottom lip is in between his teeth to keep himself quiet. You do it again, whilst your other hand comes up to the silk belt of his robe. In one quick motion, you pull the knot undone, and his whole bare chest meets yours. 

Jihoon pulls away from you in slight shock at the fluidity of your movements, the ability you have to undo knots one handed. As if you haven’t been unhooking bras for years. You chuckle softly as your hands find the band of his briefs, and you pull those down over his ass with just as much fluidity. 

Jihoon’s cock slaps his stomach, and it’s only now that you notice he’s hard, already leaking, and you suspect it might be because of the plug inside of him. You take a moment to take in his state of undress; milky, soft skin and muscles which are still pumped from his workout, and his pretty pink cock which is leaking beads of precum down his shaft. You’ve seen him shirtless before, watched his cock as he brushed it against yours, but you’ve never seen both things together. 

Even though his boxers are still halfway down his thighs and his dark robe covers his arms, this is the most naked you’ve ever seen him. Jihoon’s face flushes under the intensity of your gaze, analytical and solid as you just stare. He goes to pull his robe closed, but you stop him with a firm hand to his stomach, thumb brushing over the ridges of his abs. He stills, lets your hands feel him as you brush the robe off his shoulders. He lets it fall, the fabric pooling at his elbows before he shrugs it off. Jihoon’s black robe falls onto the white sheets, such a stark contrast, and it all seems to click into place. This, tonight, is the night it happens.

Both of you seem to have the same idea as you both lean in for a kiss. Your lips meet, and it's immediately hungry; all tongue and teeth, uncoordinated and messy. Your arms wrap around his waist, holding him to you, before you roll him over. Jihoon hits the mattress with a small oof, eyes stary and wide at the sudden display of strength. 

You take the opportunity to pull his boxers the rest of the way off, reaching up to grab an unused pillow to put under his ass. You wrap an arm around both of his legs, lifting his hips off the mattress to put the pillow under his ass. Jihoon just stares at you, completely star struck and incredibly horny. You push his knees up to his chest, finally getting a look at the plug inside of him.

It’s a simple metal plug with a large, sapphire blue, heart shaped gem at the base. Your fingers brush over it, and Jihoon stutters out a few incoherent syllables before he can form words. “I, um, sometimes I just like to… Fuck, are we really gonna do this?” He gasps, as you grab a hold of the toy, pulling it ever so slightly out before pushing it back in. 

“If you want to, but I’m so game to fuck you tonight.” You breathe out. Jihoon laughs, though it’s strained. 

“You have such a way with words. No wonder your albums always top the charts.” He jokes, and you take the opportunity to massage his balls to get him to stop talking so that you can focus on preparing him, though it seems he’s done most of the work himself.

“I’m about to top you, too.” You laugh quietly as he moans out. “Bought us a new bottle of lube while I was getting rice.” You kiss his pec as you play with the plug, slowly fucking him with it without taking it out. 

You settle back on your knees, watching the way his hole spasms with each twist of the plug. He’s whiny and desperate, already getting close to being fucked out. You let go of his balls and the plug to reach and grab the lube, taking the opportunity to rid yourself of your pyjama pants and boxers. It’s Jihoon’s turn to stare. 

“Fuck, you’re so…” He trails off. You just smirk before turning your attention back to his ass. You finally give yourself permission to pull the plug all the way out of him, before plunging it back in. There, you get to see the full size of it. 

It’s not the biggest thing in the world, but it’s not small either. It would fill Jihoon’s palm with a significant weight to it. When it slips out, gravity pulls it towards the bed and you have to stiffen your wrist to push it back in. Jihoon moans, hands grasping at the sheets. “Yeah? Care to explain all of this to me angel?” Jihoon flushes deeper, his blush now spreading to his chest. 

“Sometimes I just like to feel full. You weren’t supposed to know.” He hiccups as you keep fucking him with the toy. Jihoon spreads his legs, bringing them down from his chest to stop the slight aching in his knees. You catch a glance at his leaking cock, and pick up your pace only to slow down again. It’s brutal; all your teasing has Jihoon close to tears.

“You can take it, angel.” You coo, brushing his hair out of his face and planting a soft kiss on his lips. He can barely return it.

“If you keep doing this I’ll cum, and I don’t want to yet.” He whines, knuckles turning red as his fingers twist into the sheets. As much as you would love to keep working him up like this, the girth of the plug has prepared him enough. You pull it out, leaning over to set it on the bedside table. Your cock brushes against his thigh, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan, completely unaware of how hard you were up until this point. 

You’ve always been far more of a giver in bed, willing to neglect your own needs to make your partners feel good, and it’s no different with Jihoon. What is different is how hard he gets you, how his moans and whines seem to have an effect on you far stronger than anything else. 

“Shit, do you have any condoms?” You ask, once you settle back on your knees.

“Don’t need them. I’m clean, and can’t get pregnant.” He laughs softly.

“Yeah, no, it’s just… I’ve fucked anyone raw before.” You’ve heard from friends that sex without a barrier is mind blowing, and you’re not sure if you can really take that with how worked up Jihoon’s noises make you. 

“First time for everything, right? We don’t have to if you would prefer to wait and just buy condoms.” Jihoon reaches for you, grabbing your bicep and rubbing soft circles on it with his thumb. You shake your head, leaning forward to kiss him as you flip the cap off the bottle of lube.

“I’ve had a lot of firsts with you.” You laugh softly before connecting your lips. Jihoon sighs into the kiss, hand finding its way into your hair and your tongues lap at each other.

You use this opportunity to press on the pump of the bottle, squirting some into your hand to lather your cock. Ever since Jihoon introduced you to this specific type of lube, you’ve never looked back. Thank god for pumps. You bite back a groan as your hand meets your cock, lubing it up well.

You opt to plunge three fingers inside of Jihoon to use up the excess lube on your fingers. Jihoon gasps, clearly not expecting the intrusion so soon. He’s loose enough for your fingers to slide in, but still tight around them. You know he’s going to kill you. 

With lips still locked together, you pull your fingers out after scissoring them a few times. You carefully guide your cock to his entrance, rubbing your tip against his entrance a few times before you break the kiss. “Ready?” You ask, and it’s more for yourself than him. 

“Yeah, just go slow.” He breathes, arms now above his head. You do as he says, slowly prodding his entrance with your tip. You do it a few times, pushing a little further until you finally feel him open up and relax enough for you to push your tip inside. 

Jihoon grabs at the pillows above him, eyelids fluttering shut as he takes deep breaths. You finally get your tip inside, and stall for a few seconds at the warmth of his walls. He’s still so fucking tight, it makes your head spin at the completely new sensation. Once you’re good to go, you push in further. 

Where you’d normally bottom out, Jihoon seems to suck you in further until there’s barely an inch left to go. Jihoon gasps and whines with each inch you push inside him, shifting and squirming in place as he adjusts to the stretch and length. His knuckles are white, stands of his dark hair finding their way inside his grasp. While he can’t seem to form words, he sure is vocal. 

You push the last inch of your cock inside, taking a deep breath as you let both of you adjust. Everyone was right; having sex without protection is a different breed of pleasure. You close your eyes as you focus on your breathing. “Okay,” Jihoon pants, “you can move now.” His voice is shaky, muscles tightening around your cock dangerously.

“Oh, this isn’t for you, angel.” You pant, a strained laugh slipping past your lips. When you open your eyes again, Jihoon is looking up at you, pink lips parted, eyes glazed over with lust, cock leaking against his stomach. 

Jihoon swears quietly as he takes in your face. You wrap your hand around his cock to give him something for the time being, and that’s when you feel it. It’s barely there, at the bottom of his stomach, hidden under the ridges of his abs, but it’s there. 

Your knuckles brush it first, and you take a moment to look down to see if it’s visible. Ever so faintly, his stomach bulges with the intrusion of your cock. You swear, pulling out a few inches before you push back in. Sure enough, the bulge returns when  you push back in. “Fuck, is that your–” Jihoon cuts himself off when you push down on his lower stomach, and you can feel the pressure on your cock. You laugh, aghast at the discovery. You’ve never been able to fit all of your cock inside someone, never been able to see it do that. 

“It is.” You exhale deeply, as you start to slowly pull back out.

“God, you’re so fucking deep.” Jihoon hisses, eyes rolling back as you thrust back in. You brush his hair out of his face affectionately, cooing softly as you start to fuck him. 

Your chosen pace is slow, nearly brutal. You take a second to adjust your position on your knees, and the slight angle change has Jihoon’s back arching as your cock brushes his prostate. He lets out a high-pitched whine, eyes closing when you hold him in place by the hips to continue hitting that spot. It’s foul play, focusing in on his prostate, but you’re not faring much better at how tight and wet he is. 

You pick up speed, balls slapping against his ass with each thrust. Low moans from you and high pitched whines from Jihoon fill the room alongside your laboured breathing. One of his arms falls to cover his face. You catch it before he can hide from you, tsk-ing softly as you keep fucking him. Knowing he won’t win this fight, Jihoon wraps that hand around his cock, jerking himself off in time with each thrust. 

Jihoon’s other arm wraps around your neck, pulling you closer and in for a kiss. He’s hardly able to kiss you, completely fucked out as he just pants against your mouth. It’s too much. His eyelashes are wet with tears, completely overstimulated from two types of stimulation. His nails rake down your back, the soft burn only spurring you on more. Jihoon’s hand stops moving on his cock, and you take the opportunity to put your own hand in its place. 

Something about being in complete control of Jihoon’s pleasure, stimulating him from both perspectives, making him fall apart underneath you; something about it has you picking up speed, head falling into his neck as you start to lick and bite at the pale skin, careful not to leave any marks. 

Jihoon gasps out your name, small tears falling down the sides of his face, before he’s shooting thick white ropes of cum out of his cock. His release coats your hand, hitting his chest and your stomach. He spasms, full body jerking as you fuck him through it, hand still stroking him in time with each thrust. It doesn’t take long for you to get where you need to be. “Where do you want it?” You ask, out of breath, voice low and shaky from holding yourself up.

“Inside.” Jihoon whimpers, nails digging into your back from the prolonged overstimulation. You do as he says, stilling as you cum. Jihoon moans, pulling your hand off his cock. You pull out carefully, pulling away from him to watch your cock slide out. Some of your cum slips out of his ass and you watch it slide down onto the pillow. 

You collapse on the bed beside him, rolling onto your side to face him. Jihoon’s chest is still rising and falling rapidly as he comes down from his high. You’re doing no better, breathing laboured and sporadic as you fall out of your lust.

The post nut clarity is strong. One minute you're watching Jihoon, brushing his bangs out of his face, gaze on him soft. The next, your whole body feels on fire as an unfamiliar burn in your lungs ignites your whole body on fire. You can’t breathe, and then the tears start.

Jihoon is immediately pulled out of whatever post-orgasm bliss he’s experiencing as your whole body shakes, completely wracked in a violent sob. He rolls over off his back quickly, pulling you to his chest as you cry. There’s no logical reason for your panic, you know this, but then you start thinking and oh god, you can't stop.

Maybe the timing was off; maybe you’d be fine if your parents didn't show up today, if your father did not scrutinize Jihoon right off the bat. Still, you just had sex with another man, and for some reason it freaks you out more than it should. Jihoon just holds you, unsure of what else to do. He lets you cry, because it’s all he can do, and you don’t pull away because you can’t. 

It takes you about five minutes for your breathing to go back to normal. When you finally have a grasp on your surroundings, wherever you are doesn’t feel at all like home. The earth feels far, far away. All you can recognize is the dim glow of the lamp and Jihoon’s chest. You blink a few times, completely exhausted.

Jihoon starts whispering a soft mantra of: It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with you, you’re safe, I’ve got you. It seems to work in grounding you once you’re able to recognize sound again. While it might not be entirely true that things are okay right now, something in Jihoon’s voice tells you that it will be okay. Maybe in the morning, maybe in a week, maybe sometime in the future; eventually. 

You’ve already been ripped out by the stem, left on the dirt for people to step on. The damage has been done, and there is no going back. The difference between just being left to rot is that you have Jihoon. He’s willing to replant you, care for your damaged roots; he’s willing to care for you, mend your wounds until you’re whole again. All you can do is move forward. 

Your eyes feel heavy with dried tears, head pounding from the incessant crying you just spent the last ten or so minutes doing. You groan softly, giving Jihoon the first sign in ten minutes that you’re alive, aside from your laboured breathing. Immediately, his hand is in your hair, pulling you tighter to his chest as he presses a hesitant kiss to the top of your head. 

You smile weakly against his chest, hand reaching out for him. Jihoon laces your fingers together, squeezing softly in reassurance. 

He rubs soft circles on your back, holding you close until your breathing starts to even out. Jihoon doesn’t have the heart to pull away from you, not when you’re like this. The drying lube and cum will leave his sensitive skin irritated and red in the morning, but that’s a problem for later. Right now, you need him here, and there isn’t anything Jihoon wouldn’t do to make you feel safe.

a/n: shits going down. sorry guys but not rlly.