#uncomfortable though its hot and loud

[godsiick]

its now been an hour and a half since i woke up and im still. out of it.

[screampied]

ʚ FINISH INSIDE HER ?! ɞ

ᡴꪫ sum. what the hell is a full nelson? no worries, luckily underground boxer toji shows you a hands-on demonstration. although, you want choso to try it with you too. not only are you a slut visual learner, but you also think you can take them both - not in a fight though.

wc. 5.8k

warnings. fem! reader, boxer! au, boxers toji & choso, 3sum, choso walks in on you and toji, unprotected, full nelson, manhandling, brief ōral (f + m), quickie, size diff, finger sucking, praise, dirty talk, choking, they fight over you, whiny choso, squırting, impact play, slight nıpple play, premature ejac, spıt.

an. kind of based on this ask!

“upsie daisey, uh huh. biiiiig fuckin’ stretch,” your mouth drops open once your thighs gets sprawled apart. your back slumps back against the fighter — toji, you’ve been training with him for a while. not only were you training with him but you’ve also been a bit of a fan. you mentioned to him on how you wanted to strengthen your ‘flexibility’ a bit more and of course, he had just the right thing to help you. out of curiosity, you asked him about a certain position you watched him perform on his rival, choso kamo. full nelson, it was considered illegal in some rings if not all. toji would always perform a specific choking move where he’d pin choso down with ease, burly buff arms putting him in a head lock - preventing him from moving a single inch. the entire crowd always goes wild at it every single time—so you wanted to try it out for yourself. “easy, easy. don’t tap out on me jus’ yet, okay? y’er a big girl.”

bobbling your head to give him a nod, an airy breeze shoves you back into his chest. the stretchy fabric of his boxing shorts tickle against your skin upon impact. “o- okay,” you breathe, gasping once he hooks two big arms underneath the undersides of your thighs. he’s got such a good taut grip that seconds later, you felt yourself throb a bit at the feverish, hot friction. “you’re not really gonna, heh, choke me out right?”

“not unless y’er into that, princess,” he jibes, a throaty husk of a chuckle leaving out of him. and as you’re spread all out, limbs extended—yeah,

you were probably fucked.

after what seems like hours of meaningless stretches and exercises to prepare your limbs, toji’s finally got you in the position — you were sprawled right in his lap, being in a safe firm chokehold.

his voice was roughly gruff, and as he spreads your legs just a bit further, you feel the cottony bandage that wraps around his arm ghost up against your thigh. his touch was gentle and you intake a sharp breath, further continuing to lean into his touch - his grasp. “mhm, seems like y’er a bit more flexible than i thought. this comfy?”

“no,” you let off a sheepish snort, starting to feel a brief pang on your thighs from the position. to be fair — not only was full nelson uncomfortable but it was dangerous. just one wrong move and snap. but toji was a professional, he’d make sure you’d keep all your pretty little limbs in tact. probably. clearing your throat, your eyes scan around a plethora of trophies and plaques he’s won throughout his career. “but um, have you ever tried this position with no clothes on?”

toji grows quiet, allowing you to lie back on his chest. black curly strands of chest hair fondle against your skin before he murmurs gruffly into your ear. “maybe.”

the growing bulge that hid underneath his boxers had you almost feral. you felt its presence—how it was just there, poking right against your shorts.

you prepare for yet another sharp drawn out breath, taking in his loud axe cologne that wafts through the entire studio. “can we try nude?”

and that was probably dumb to ask.

it was very dumb to ask.

your lewd filthy thoughts loved to make themselves known out of your lips at the worst times. your heart raced the moment you blurted that out, feeling the tips of your ears burn a scorching temperature. he’d say no, you were almost sure of it. you were just a dumb fan who managed to be a favorite, surely he wouldn’t—

“why the hell not,” he snickers, sliding his hands toward the smooth curvature of your hips. “i’ll go easy on ya for today. let’s get rid of these,” he pulls on the string of your panties, already discarding your shorts with such quickness. “i’ll try not ‘ta break you too bad.”

but that was a lie—

not only did he break you but he stretched you out in all the ways possible.

you had the most dumbest expression, tongue lolled out, legs spread, gushing all over the velvet red boxing mat - time and time again.

pink luminescent lighting shine back against the centers of your irises as you stare up at the ceiling’s lights. you’ve never felt so weak. spit slick lips of yours were all swollen and numb from being chewed on constantly like candy. within minutes, your knees were already surrendering, bucking at his very mercy.

“fuck, tooooji.” you’d drag out his name in cute elongated syllables.

the infamous elastic stretch of his cock has you writhe and spasm all over his lap. ludicrously, your voice bounces across the cheap walls of the building. nevertheless, you can’t lie to yourself, you’ve rubbed a few out at the thought of having this moment with your favorite boxer.

unprofessional, maybe. but he didn’t care and neither did you. besides, he was helping you with your flexibility after all. even if it was a bit more intimate than most regular methods.

your heart races, thumping out quick hurried beats as he’s shoving his cock in and out of you. you’re in such a submissive position that you were just a bobble head, a doll. he treated you like one — using your body, bouncing you up and down and manhandling you all over the mat.

he gruffly cackles behind the plushy shell of your ear, watching right before his eyes as you’re jouncing on his dick. your skin was so warm, so hot, the recoil stings for a few seconds before your ass ricochets off his sharp pelvis.

the smacks and paps only grew louder, and so did your sweet melodic moans and whimpers.

a creamy pearl of a ring coats around his base and he grunts, still having a beefy arm around your neck. his muscles flex and you fight the urge to bite his bicep. “easy, good girl. lean right into me. y’er a natural.”

his words went straight to your cunt. toji was a dirty talker, never a sweet talker.

he knew how to get you wet, whether it was with his slick mouth, his tongue, or even his cock. his voice was always so low, timbre and all. the husk that it carried never failed to make you soaked. embarrassing,

oh, it definitely was embarrassing.

he’s got a free hand gripping onto your thigh, kissing your ass with his palm - rough rude spanks.

the cute flinches of your rear bouncing back against his lap makes him slide a tongue over his lips, including sliding over that notorious scar that slides down the right side of his mouth. “fuck, so fuckin’ sloppy. got the mat all soaked. should make ya lick it up, huh.”

you couldn’t even reply . . you tried, but babbles of inaudible squeaks came out instead.

it just felt too good, he felt too good.

you’re panting heavily, the repetitive pop song that blared through the boxing ring’s broken speakers gets stuck in your head. you hear the moist wails of your pussy squelching time and time again, entirely soaking yourself with your own beloved filth. a free hand of toji’s creeps its way in front of you. hand so big that he could easily cover it over your entire face if he could.

with glossy half-lidded eyes, you stare at his palm, feeling your mouth water.

thick long fingers, he knew what he was doing.

toji’s just casually waving his hand around in your face in a slow mesmerizing motion as you bounced on his cock. they were so lengthy and thick, his arms had prodding veins for days. from his wrist to the edge of his arm, you saw the veins poking out. he was so built that you couldn’t help but stare, couldn’t help but drool. “what a sloppy little girl. i could really snap you in half, heh,” he huffs, clenched abs pressing against your back. it’s hard, rock hard . . they feel like bricks.

you knew underground boxers like toji had to keep up a strict workout routine but damn.

“but you’d like that, huh,” he murmurs, bringing another smack to your slick wet folds. you moan at the stretch of your limbs, craving for more of his rude spanks against your swollen cunt. you throbbed from not only his words but his touch too, and the thought of him literally breaking you had you a bit more soaked than you thought it would.

this was a workout of its own - rutting your weight up and down against him. he’s got a secure hold on your body, holding your thighs up in place.

you were stupid, not even acknowledging that you’d already grab ahold of his wrist, stuffing his fingers into your mouth. you moan the second the dry bandaged digits delve past your lips and makings way down your throat. as your ass steadily rocks against him in sloppy rhythm, you feel the very tips of his fingers prod against your puny uvula. you almost gag at the unexpected feeling—a cobwebby trail of saliva that was translucent pours down the side of your parted lips.

“no manners, tch,” he scoffs and his ripped abs continue to brush up against your back. “sloppy baby. got some nerve showin’ up to train being this fuckin’ nasty ‘n soaked.”

the hot skin against skin contact rubbing off against each other had your panties in a bunch, despite them already being technically pulled to the side and abandoned.

you were already still sensitive, swollen achy cunt sobbing out its own pleas of pleasure.

haphazardly, your knees buckle and he snatches his fingers out of your mouth. he does this solely to get a taste himself, swirling his pink pointed tongue against his slippery digits all thanks to you. “startin’ ‘ta think you came here for more than to just get an autograph ‘n work out with me, pretty girl.”

and as the plump crown of his cock molds you a tiny brief bulge from just his size alone — it repeatedly thrashes up against your sweetest spot. you shudder, about to collapse backward before you hear the jingling bells of the front door sound off.

“h- hey, toji man. did i leave my . . gloves . . ?”

choso, toji’s rival and regular training partner stares at the erotic scene and his face twists.

“oh,” and he’s flustered right away.

you stop bouncing and your eyes widen as big as saucers—yet, you weren’t even embarrassed. you were in awe, you knew all about choso kamo.

the choso kamo, anyone would be crazy not too. he was the most recent up and coming boxer, and after beating toji with a brutal close score of 58-57.

as you’re reclined back against toji—you finally get a good look at the other dark haired boxer.

he was slim yet also well built, choso was known for fighting opponents with his iconic ponytails but as of currently - he started to wear his hair down. sometimes he’d pin it up, a bit of a wolf cut that flew down his broad shoulders.

as his bashful gaze met yours, he grew nervous. very nervous.

black sable hued shorts cling onto his hips whilst he was shirtless, a few past battle scars painting the entire canvas of his perfectly chiseled body. “am i . . interrupting something?”

“nah. c’mere, ‘cho,” a husky voice calls out and he pauses in his tracks. the air suddenly clouded its way with imaginary thick smoke of lust and tension. it’s so thick you could cut it with a knife.

he swallows—dragging his bare feet across the crimson red mat toward you both, ducking underneath the stretchy multicolored bars before gawking at you. he was far pretty up close once he entered the practice ring, he runs a hand behind his neck before averting his eyes away from your nude body out of respect.

“he’s always been kinda shy,” toji purrs to you, still buried deep into your cunt. you shiver, every movement he makes makes—even just sitting up makes you let off a soft noise. you chew the inside of your cheek, feeling a stickiness stick between your thighs. dark green eyes flicker at choso and he hums, tilting his head. “choso, you know how to do full nelson too, yeah?”

“y- yeah, of course i do why?”

“you’re avoiding eye contact again.”

choso gulps - burying his hands into the burrows of his shorts pockets. a sheet of sweat marinates across his forehead before he glances at toji, rephrasing. “eh, yeah i know how to do full nelson. why?”

“because,” toji smacks his lips, a hand prying its way between the valley of your legs. you moan, still feeling full from tepid hot dumps of his cum practically oozing out of your puffy slit. “we’ve got a new opponent ‘n she wants to experience what it’s really like on the ring.”

“toji, we do full nelson all the time,” choso timidly runs a bundle of fingers through his buzzed undercut, a timid smile curling against his lips. “we never usually do it um . . naked though.”

the boxer underneath you deadpans. he could be so dense, choso stands still before a small gasp wrenches out of his pink glossed lips.

“oh.. oh,” and his face turns into a flustered tint.

you’ve watched a bit of his interviews and it seemed not only was he shy with the press but he was also very shy in person. it was cute, regardless.

as you’re busy being trapped up in your own thoughts, choso can’t help but peek down toward your legs. you were all exposed and being stretched out by his rival. he sucks his teeth in longing, briefly staring away before feeling himself grow a bit . . aroused. “i feel disrespectful for looking, ‘m sorry.”

“no, it’s okay,” you murmur in coy reassurance, and a hand tugs onto his wrist. choso’s breath hitches at your touch, and you felt his dark eyes flicker back toward you. there’s this look in choso’s eyes, it’s mainly lust-driven. his pupils were blown and his heart raced, you looked so pretty. it’s not like he didn’t exactly not know you. he’d see you every so often when you were ‘training’ with toji. not only that but he’d spot you attending almost every boxing match. always in the front row with a vip lanyard. secretly, you were more of a choso fan but toji didn’t have to know that. “do you wanna touch me too?”

“yes,” he blurts out almost right away and his face flushes a deeper shade. a rumble from toji shakes his shoulders - he’s chuckling, and you feel a big arm wrap around your torso. you bite down on your lip, still feeling yourself sit in a creamy puddle of filth, warm cum still plugged into you. choso starts to pant, watching you slither a hand between your thighs, spreading your soppy pussy lips. “i mean.. oh, that’s..” and he’s barely able to think straight, watching as you toy with yourself whilst still being full of toji’s thickset cock. his head starts to spin before he inches closer, kneeling down after your cute hand gestures to come here. “a- are you sure you want me to—”

“it’s okay, go ahead.” you hum, guiding his wrist.

“choso, she’s not gonna bite ya,” toji snickers, bringing your legs back down. as of now — you were currently straddling him with your back facing his chest. choso rubs his neck once more, growing sheepish yet again. it’s adorable, but again, he’s seen you at his matches and face offs. choso being choso though was far too shy to say anything or thank you for your support. but now, maybe he could thank you in another way. toji crosses his arms, cocking his head as he glances at the scene. “atta boy.”

a scowl forms on the timid boxer as his fingers resume to brush up against your drooling cunt. “s- shut up, toji,” and you let off a moan at his gentle strokes. you continue to lie back against toji - staring at choso, ogles as two plump fingers of his partner’s play up and down against your soddened entrance. choso’s mouth starts to water the more he stares, admiring how full you were—you had a few remnants of toji’s cum oozing from your slit and he swipes it up, bedaubing it against your pussy to make it sheeny again. “f- fuck, you’re so pretty.”

“you can t- touch me more, choso,” you lightly pause his hand by grabbing his wrist. his eyes meet yours and he felt the tent in his boxers tighten. oh, he was already whipped from the sound of your voice. with half lidded smoky eyes, he huffs out a single breath before glancing at your lips. you climb off of toji and a brief pop exits your cunt - dragging choso closer. “are you hard, choso?”

“he’s definitely hard,” toji tchs, averting his jade green eyes toward his partner’s shorts. it was hard to not notice the presentable bulge that’s sticking right in front of his leather everlast brand shorts. “cute.”

“shut up man,” he repeats with a glowering scowl.

with a cute dramatic sigh, choso grumbles something under his breath - trying to pay more attention back toward you. he leans into your touch, closing the gap between your legs until he’s right between you. choso presses a chaste kiss against your collarbone before moaning into your tender skin. he couldn’t help but suck against your shoulder for a few seconds, relishing in your candied flavor.

you were so sweet - bandaged hands roam everywhere on your displayed body before he exhales deeply, staring at you with almost heart shaped pupils. “you . . wanna try full nelson with me too, princess?”

throwing your arms over him, you hum with a subtle nod. “yeah, ‘s okay. i can handle it.”

famous last words,

with choso . . he stretched you all the way out, probably even more than toji.

his cock was just as thick, maybe even more. his fat reddened tip swelters the inside of your sopping pussy so good until you’re whimpering his name on constant loop. it’s like a mantra, you’re so dumb that it’s like his five lettered name was the only thing your brain could comprehend to say.

he’s got you upright in the same exact position before, slinging two beefy arms underneath your thighs as your weight bounces and defies gravity.

“fuck, fuck,” he whines, the addictive squeeze your cunt had never failed to make itself known. he reached any and every area so deep. choso had a delicious curve to his cock that sent you straight butterflies. it expands through your walls, french kissing your insides until you whine. his base was repeatedly getting smacked from your ass, each ‘n every time you jerked up from his lap. “y- you’re so good. so warm, ‘m gonna pass out.”

“aren’t you the boxer though?” you try to tease, but your cheeky voice falters the second his slitted tip kisses against that spot.

your vision was merely blurry, seeing nothing but a kaleidoscope of stars. in almost defeat, your head falls back against his chest and toji watches the entire time, buff arms crossed and an amused cunning expression. seeing you milk his rival was something he didn’t know would turn him on so much.

choso doesn’t reply to your little jest, still pumping such fat inches inside of your gripping walls. he’s already dumb, knocked out cold with a solid punch - not necessarily from an opponent, but your pussy. “hang onto me, ‘kay? this position requires lots of um . . s- stamina.”

as you nod, your entire body dangles and bobs from the movement — parching hot friction gluing against each jolting limb before you spasm.

“chosoooo,” and your thighs collapse, coming to its pleasurable demise. his thrusts were sloppy, the squelches of your own body was so lewd. you heard it through and through, glancing down to see yourself flutter and clench around his cock. “fuck, fuck ‘m gonna get close again.”

“wait,” a gruff voice murmurs and you glance up to see toji standing over you. he cups your chin, a thumb caressing your quivering bottom lip. “such a empty mouth. hm, open for me, pretty. think you could use some throat training too.”

as choso’s still plummeting his cock into your swollen cunt - stretching you out dexterously, you part your lips open.

by your surprise, toji’s lips meets yours and he pulls you into a deep kiss. it’s a bit of a rushing kiss, sloppy and strings of saliva tangling between each mouths. you moan, feeling the weight of your breasts bounce as you’re making haste on the other boxer’s lap. fuck, you were quite literally living the dream. you whimper, feeling his broad hands grab against your tits, using thumbs to push squeeze pressure against your perky nipples. he was always so handsy, allowing his hands to wander everywhere and yanking against the remaining pathetic pieces of fabric that covered your body.

you were still layered . . partially,

his rough scarred hands slide underneath your blouse as he’s continuing to make out with you, curling his parted tongue beside your own before it turns into obscene sucking. your own tongue occasionally scrapes against his scar that located directly near the right side of his mouth - it tickles a bit—however, you whimper once choso’s dick created its own little kisses against your g-spot.

abruptly, toji who was just claiming your mouth a few seconds ago pulls away from the continued kiss to grip underneath your chin again. “ah, say ah,” and he hums at your obedience, staring at your pretty pink tongue rolling out of your mouth flat. “good, ‘m gonna train this throat a little bit for ya, sweets. that alright?”

“o- okay,” and you’re briefly cut off once he springs out his cock again, thwacking his pink pearly tip against your tongue. he lets off a gruff satisfied grunt, feeling himself harden up once you flick your tongue against his slit. you’re slow, making sure to savor his taste. he watches, smacking his lips and his left brow curls.

toji bites his lip, his abs curlings as he watches you try to suck him of fully — he smacks his cock all against your face softly, watching your needy pout before humming. “such a needy cock hungry slut,” and a thumb swipes against your lip, preparing to insert his hardened shaft down your throat. “aw, you want more, do ya?”

you nod before moaning, feeling choso kiss down your neck, yearning for your attention.

“y- you’re doing so good,” choso whines against your ear, clinging onto your jerking body. “ngh, don’t listen to toji. he’s just mean.”

toji rolls his eyes. he’d reply with a sassy remark but he was still feeling the after effects of sensitivity. his muscles were all tense and spasming from you just bouncing on him just a few minutes ago. you’re just grinding onto choso, feeling your hips ridiculously buckle and snap before he smears his cockhead against your lips like it was lipstick. his plump tip goes against your wet lips, only for him to smack it against your clean pink tongue. “mmph.” you lashes flutter, ogling as he buries a few fingers into your scalp for a good grip. toji grunts, briefly tossing his head back in rapture. his scent grows stronger as he gradually starts to sink his way into your mouth.

“t- toji, ‘m gonna cum. i can’t last,” choso babbles, facial expressions scrunching up the more you quicken your tempo on his lap. toji glances at choso who’s melting right underneath you — he’s got you in a secure hold, but it’s lazy.

one of his arms sling around your torso, another holding onto your thigh. “fuck,” he sucks against your neck, feeling the stretch increase. your walls were his own worst enemy, preparing to milk him for all of his worth. everything felt hot, his throat felt dry and he’s starting to shake right underneath you. “gonna cum, gonna c- cum.”

“not yet, ‘cho,” he grunts, watching as you lean in, adjusting your throat to his heavy size. your tongue swirls around the peeling slit and he huffs, a single hand tightening its hold against the roots that stick onto your scalp. “mhm, look at me. don’t worry about him, he’s just a crybaby,” and you can hear choso let off a scoff from behind you. toji’s sensitive cock was still dribbling a bit with a concoction of your previous juices and he groans at the image of you lapping it right up. “c’mon, little deeper. i wanna feel that slutty roof.”

whilst you’re having your mouth and cunt filled entirely—choso’s whining pitches louder and louder. so loud that it reverbs all throughout the thin walls of the empty boxing arena. thankfully, there wasn’t anyone here and it was usually closed on saturdays. he didn’t like be edged, he hated it.

but it felt good,

so fucking good.

especially due to the fact that he was so close to you, hearing your sweet whimpers follow in sync with his.

your voice made his cock twitch and from the inside, you felt it all.

every frantic spasm - you felt it, not to mention the few lightning type veins that run down the upward curve of his cock, you felt that too.

you rocked against him until your knees were at its last. he’s still holding you up but even he was about to tap out. choso had stamina - but he was no match for his rival, toji.

with murky low eyes—toji’s staring dead at you, bobbling your head and merely shoving you down just a little deeper.

you get sloppy, a puddle of drool trickling down the corners of your chin and down the valley of your chest before his tip hits against the roof of your mouth again.

it’s a rough rude hit and his cock gives the very back of your throat its own few jabs. a combo if you will — yet it’s more raunchy instead of sportsmanlike.

“eyes on me baby. yeah, yeah,” toji turns your head a bit, locking onto your sweet gaze. “get it wet, clean it up for me. make me just as much of a mess as you, girl.”

his words were so low - an almost growl. you were too focused on toji that you concisely forgot about the other boxer that’s sat underneath you.

choso came and it was so sudden—he couldn’t hold it anymore.

his grip weakens and he slouched back against the ring, spurts of hot cum pouring into you deep. he’s trembling, feeling a wave crash down on him as he’s succumbing to his high. choso can’t help but try to mimic toji, swatting the palm of his hand softly against your ass. even his spanks were respectful.

the worn out boxer pants, letting off an adorable finish. his vocals were quite loud despite having a deep bellow. “baby oh, fuuuck,” he mewls out, dark brows coming together. choso was about to lose it even more at the feeling your swiveling hips throwing itself around in a circle just because. toji watches the entire thing, how you were teasing his partner whilst having your mouth all stuffed full. as he’s stood tall before you both, his abs clench and you get a face view of it all. perfectly incised along the edges, you saw a few marks and scars coat against his skin and it’s never been more attractive. choso on the other hand found his hands grabbing onto your tits, gently brushing a thumb against your sensitive nipples before nuzzling into your neck. he was definitely pussy drunk — you could hear it. “babyyy,” a soft voice whines pussy drunkly against the lobe of your ear, and you depart your lips away from toji’s cock. he groans, viewing you lie back before you start to twitch out a bit yourself.

not only was choso close but so were you. as your legs were all stuck up in the air in its ideal position, you dramatically gasp once you feel it.

there’s a tugging pile of pressure that presses down on your tummy. your jaw drops—dangles and everything as you’re being pushed further toward the edge. your arousal steadily builds up until it finally comes.

just seconds apart from choso, you pant - a brief pang of electric shock ascending down right through you. you were speechless for a moment.

there’s nothing but a white noise blaring through each of your ears. it feels like an unpredictable wave, a powerful wave that ripples right through your entire body. it took you a long time to realize you were finishing - not only finishing but you were squirting.

“ohmygodddd,” you whimper out, feeling your legs vigorously shake. you gush out right onto the mat. feeling yourself grow hot — you’re even hotter because of choso’s body underneath you.

effortlessly, bodies stick against each other, snuggling in filthy warmth. as you’re leisurely coming to a halting stop of your rhythmic hips, choso’s cock remained tuck inside of you and you catch your breath, head cutely flopping back against his bare chest.

“did . . did you just squirt on me?” choso whimpers, a tremor in his voice.

his voice, it grew a bit raspier. although, you could still hear the softness lingering underneath it.

toji leans in toward you both, spreading your legs open just a bit more - he strums a calloused thumb down your opening, peering as you’re still fluttering out of arousal and was still sopping wet all the way from your needy clit.

“she fuckin’ did,” he coos, and he leans down, getting right on his knees.

you watch with low hooded eyes, still feeling surges of nirvana and euphoria overtake your body. toji purrs in contentment, wide open palms slapping against the foamy ring mat before sticking out his lengthy rosy tongue. you’re catching irregular heavy breaths right along with choso, full lungs preparing to collapse and give out before you pulse.

the moment toji drags his long tongue over the dampened spot of where you just made a mess—you felt yourself throb yet again.

so nasty, he had no shame at all. choso watched too, and he felt the exact same way as you did.

“what a mess,” and with another throaty chuckle leaving his lips, he cleans the mat off entirely before going between your legs. you moan, his palm gifting your cunt with a single abrupt spank. you’re so drenched that a few spurts of your slick coat onto his hand. toji stares at it, scoffing. “pussy tryin’ to talk back i see,” and he rubs his hand in a circular rotation against your cunt, maneuvering all kinds of shapes with his palm. you whimper, grabbing onto choso’s wrist. in awe, toji watches as dumps of cum ooze out of your opening and he even licks that up too, sticky black hair all unkempt and gluing against his forehead. the thin black bangs that run down his brows gives him a more alluring look and he hums, darkened eyes meeting his partner’s. “choso. don’t be a zombie. c’meree.”

you were definitely fucked—

being laid out, defeated and just stupidly stupid.

your legs sprawl outward as they’re both right between them. taking turns, flicking tongues of each against your swollen cunt. they took fighting over you to an entire new level. as they were drinking you dry — you couldn’t help but imagine the lewd thought of taking them both at the same time. you’d probably get crushed, you could barely even handle one as is, but two? that’d be an actual knockout for real.

as you’re still in a trancing daze, you watch both of the boxers with wide rounded eyes, grabbing both of them by the hair. there’s choso who’s really sweet and gentle, giving your pussy soft kitten kisses, softly brushing a thumb down your slit.

and then there’s toji . .

the clit biter - opposite of choso being the clit kisser, he doesn’t care.

with ravened brows furrowing up, he’s so rude to your pussy. every few seconds, he’d tenderly nibble against your pulsating nub, knowing that you’re sensitive there. with a smug grin, he shifts his eyes at you to stare at you dead in the face whilst he’s right between your legs. he’s messy too, moving his head from side to side, his scar swipes against your cunt every now and then.

not only was he messy but he was a hogger. he slurps you clean, luxuriating the tasteless flavor on his tongue before he hears choso cutely huff out in frustration.

“toji, you’re hogging her. ‘s no fair,” he grunts, dark eyes catching a glimpse at him from his hazy peripherals.

“cry ‘bout it,” and he spits on your cunt, hooked bump of his nose rubbing all against your slit.

already - toji’s chin was drenched, and so was choso’s. they both match with a slick of your sheeny arousal dripping down their perfectly chiseled chins. about a good hour had probably passed — then again, you were too dumb to acknowledge the time. all you knew was that you were soaked. you whimper, being nothing but a stiff shivering mess as they devoured you whole.

the numbness in your legs had your back rising up in ecstasy. you wanted more. sloshing slick tongues thrash and glissade against each other before they eventually . . tangle.

toji groans, accidentally meeting with choso’s lips and its brief. his eyelashes open and he has a sly smile at his rival. you watch the entire thing, the timid boxer versus the smug one. toji’s hand still remains on your folds and he’s multitasking, seductively licking choso’s bottom lip - still locking his gaze on him. he’s starting to taking his attention off of you. “hm, don’t tell me you wanted attention from me ‘n not her this entire time, ‘cho.”

a lump gets caught in his throat. choso grows flustered, hearing his own pulse shoot out through his ears as his lips made contact against his rival. “i—”

he’s hard, flaccid still, but definitely hard. there was a loud silence once a smack noise leaves there lips the second they each depart. choso’s got a pout, a longing pout before he tries to act tough.

“shut up, toji.” he grouses, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“how ‘bout ya make me,” and you’re just sat there dumbfounded with your legs still sprawled as if you weren’t just being fought over - invisible questions marks pop up everywhere over your head. what about you? what about you. with quick reflexes, he pins choso flat down on his back before snickering, having the most lewd back arch imaginable.

“our re-match is tonight after all, pretty boy.”

[loverafey]

dirty ! frat boy!rafe x new girl!reader

ꕀ warnings - smut, pure FILTH i got carried away and i am not ashamed of it, rafe's a little mean but like in a playful way, reader's described to have some anxiety, drunk safe, heavy emphasis on that, fingering, denied orgasm, riding. wc - 2.3k

You had just recently moved to Outer Banks, not sure if this stay would be long or not. Your father’s business required you and your family to move around a lot, and this time it was your father sealing some deal with the Camerons, if your memory served you correctly.

It was quite nice around here — spending evenings under the pleasant breeze of the sea, strolling around and eating various snacks — you even made a new friend. Sarah, and she was the one who invited you over to the party being hosted at Tannyhill today. Something something about ‘the party being necessary for you in order to properly enjoy this place’, in sarah’s words.

Which is how you found yourself here, awkwardly standing near a wall with a drink in your hand, looking around. You looked lost if you didn’t know any better, everyone already having someone to hang out with here. loud music was blaring inside this house, some people rushing outside to jump into the pool. It was all overwhelming.

Sarah had left you temporarily because her boyfriend — John B? — was dragging her somewhere. You were quick to assure her once she gave you an apologetic look, supposing that you'd handle yourself here alone. Though now after a good amount of time having passed, you were starting to regret your decisions, wanting to do nothing but go home, your hand unconsciously squeezing the empty plastic cup in your hand tight, causing its form to wrinkle up.

“Woah, you’re killing that guy.”

A voice from behind you caused you to flinch, your head instantly turning around. You recognised him, Rafe, Sarah’s older brother. You hadn’t properly gotten the chance to talk to him yet, but you were almost sure that he was the one doing the deal with your father.

“Oh, hello…” You trailed off, feeling the heat crawling onto your face due the sudden rush of embarrassment flooding within you. You must have been looking like some loser, and that thought alone made your stomach churn uncomfortably.

“You’re Sarah's new friend, yeah?” He leaned against the wall alongside you, eyes curiously assessing your features, a lazy grin soon appearing on his lips. Fingers gently drummed right above your head on the wall, the proximity making you look away rather shyly, not knowing why your confidence had suddenly drained away. “Saw you looking around all confused.” He continued, sneakily tugging the wrinkled plastic cup away from your grasp, tossing it into the bin nearby.

It was kind of a norm for you at this point to become like this, your hands growing all clammy and your eyes averting to all places except the person you were talking to. It had happened with Sarah too, though you were much more open to her now for some reason. She was just so comfortable to be around with, whereas her brother seemed oddly intimidating. And hot.

“Yeah… don’t really know anyone here.” You shrugged your shoulders, turning over to properly look at him. He was wearing some cap over his head, his cheeks somewhat flushed under the dim light — you could almost swear that he was at least a little bit drunk — his lips parted. Fuck, he looked good.

“Clearly. Too shy to talk, huh?“ He snickered under his breath, sounding subtly mean though tried to brush it off. “Come with me, wanna have a drink?”

You were quick to nod, pursing your lips shut, not wanting to be looked at as if you really were all that meek and closed off.

Rafe took you to a more secluded area with little to no people around, plopping down onto the couch as he poured you a drink. You contemplated over your choices for a second — were you really going to trust someone you had just met? But again, he was your friend’s brother, and seemed nice enough. “Here you go. s’gonna help you loosen up.” He nudged you to sit beside him, draping an arm behind you over the couch as you grabbed the drink from him, taking a tentative sip. Nothing too strong, thankfully.

But there was an undeniable mischievous glint flickering in his eyes, hard to miss as he handed you one more cup, and then another.

It was difficult to remember how many drinks you’ve had, but you were drunk, and so was Rafe, his hands all the more clingy and eager to grab onto you as he dragged you upstairs, your legs feeling wobbly with no resistance at all to his movements.

“Is this your room?” you slurred out as he took you into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. You had neither energy nor balance to stand, clumsily falling down onto his bed as he hummed, pulling you closer so he could kiss you.

You weren’t one to do this, drunken sex and all, but somehow he was the exception. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy the way his fingers slipped underneath your shirt to touch the soft skin of your waist, pulling you greedily close, his mouth kissing you fervently. It was as if he was going to swallow you up. His cap was long gone, replaced by your fingernails raking through his scalp, tasting the alcohol on each other's mouth.

“Fuck… been staring at you all night, pretty girl.” He chuckled slowly, pulling away from the kiss to place hot, open mouthed kisses all the way from your jaw down to your collar. “All new and confused. As if waiting just f’me to come and save ya.”

“You do this often, huh? Sleeping with anyone you meet at a party?” He mocked you in a hoarse voice, words that were meant to come off as cruel instead turning you on more and more. You honestly shook your head, hands moving down to hold onto his arms, his sleeves clearly a little bit tight.

“N-No, just you.” You stuttered through the little whimpers his suctions on your neck were coaxing out, your body squirming underneath his as he gently pushed you onto your back, your head landing against the pillow.

“Makes me very special then.” His hands moved over to free you off from the restraints of your clothes that had begun feeling a little bit too overbearing and hot, the air in his bedroom feeling humid. One hand started to travel down your stomach, resting just a shy away from the waistband of your pants, looking at you for approval.

You nodded, your body feeling all fuzzy in a very nice way, probably due to the alcohol, feeling his fingers slip underneath and finding your panties. “Goodness, are you wet?” He snarked, leaning down to gently nibble on your earlobe as his fingers begin to rub over your clit through your panties, smearing the wetness everywhere, further dampening the cloth.

Your hips stuttered at the sudden jolt of pleasure, eagerly trying to grind against his hands as your grasp tightened around his arms. His touch sure as hell was gentle for someone who was getting off from making you feel all embarrassed.

“Feels good-!” Your voice came out as a whine, eyes squeezing shut. His other hand begun to squeeze your tits, moving from one to another, thumb playing with your taut nipple. It all felt too much in the best way possible.

“I know, baby, I know.” He spoke in a sickeningly sweet tone, cock straining against his pants no matter how much he tried to ignore it. His fingers pushed your panties aside and slipped right into your pussy, nicely warm and wet, your walls clenching tightly at the sudden intrusion of his first and middle fingers as he thrusted them in and out, using the top of your panties to rub against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… gonna cu-” Your words died down on your tongue as he quickly pulled his fingers away, causing you to let out a distressed cry at the sudden lose of the pleasure that was building up. “Why?” you sniffled in confused, frustrated tears building up in your eyes.

“Not too quick, cutie.” His chuckle was irritating, his soaked fingers pushing into your quivering mouth. Maybe you would’ve been grossed out if you weren’t drunk, or maybe not, not that you cared at this moment. Your eyes fluttered shut as you sucked on his fingers, tasting yourself. “So obedient. Like a pup.” He groaned, sounding pleased. His brows rose as he felt your hands clawing at his shirt, trying to take it off in a rather desperate manner. Of course he couldn’t deny such a sweet request, taking it off in one go, letting you marvel over his nicely fit torso. The gym was worth it, worth seeing your lips parting in awe.

“Gonna take my pants off too?” He smirked knowingly, your hands hesitating a bit. Even if the alcohol had loosened you up, there was still a part of you too scared to initiate things. His hand came to firmly grab yours and place it on the tent formed in his pants, hearing your breath hitch. “See, all ‘cause of you, baby.”

You nodded, your throat growing dry as you began to unbuckle his pants. He kneeled up a bit to kick it off alongside his boxers, urging you to take off your pants too which were still messily on. “Shit…” He drawled out, hands gripping you by your hips and pulling you on top of him as he sat against the headboard of his bed. “Get on top of me.” He patted the curve of your ass to urge you on.

Your movements were clumsy, hands shakily grabbing hold of his shoulders as you raised your hips, trying to position yourself on top of his hardened cock as you sunk in, earning a moan from both of you. His hold on your hips tightened, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he tried his best to not slam fully into you.

“C’mon, if you ride me good, maybe i’ll let you cum.” He leaned his head forward so he could press soft kisses on your shoulder, not minding the way your fingernails were digging and scratching onto his shoulders unconsciously as you started to ride his cock, squeezing around the girth. It was hitting all the right places within you, places your fingers struggled to reach. Fuck, how were you ever supposed to move on from this?

“Rafe…!” You moaned out, feeling all heated up one of his hands proceeded to slide in between your legs to rub your throbbing clit, bringing you closer to your edge once again. You whimpered in delight, hearing the way he groaned in your ear, his own hips beginning to thrust up rather eagerly. He definitely was not the patient type.

One arm strongly held you by your waist and snuggled against him while the other was in between your bodies. “Wish you had came here sooner… but better late then never, or whatever it is that they say, right?” He muffled out against the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as his cock continued to rammed upwards into you, his stomach tightening at the way you squeezed around him just perfectly.

His thrusts didn’t cease at all, and you begin feeling the knots forming in your stomach one more time. “T-Think I’m gonna cum…” You breathed out shakily, eyes rolling back, and this time he didn’t stop, grunting in response as he continued to rub his fingers against your clit messily. soon you felt your body convulsing in pleasure, your orgasm overtaking you as you squirmed on his cock, fingers unintentionally digging into the blades of his shoulders tightly.

It was impossible not to cum at the way your cunt squeezed around him so tightly at your own orgasm, a little ‘fuck’ leaving his lips as he hastily leaned backwards to slip his cock out of your quivering hole, causing it to clench around nothing as his hand reached down to give his cock a few little strokes, groaning in pleasure when hot strings of his cum shot out, spraying over your stomach.

You panted heavily, your head feeling light and eyes struggling to stay open, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat similar to his, your hair messy. “O-Oh my…” Your voice came out as a trembling giggle, feeling his hands pulling you near him again, your body feeling all sticky. But you had no time to think about all that, exhaustion overtaking you just as quick.

You woke up with a severe headache, letting out a pained noise once your eyes shot open, squinting at the sunlight seeping in through the blinds. This was not your room, your head looking around in confusion as you sat up on the bed, your eyes landing on him.

Rafe laid beside you, cheek squished against the pillow as he slept soundly. Blood rushed onto your cheeks as blurry memories of last nighy begin rushing in, though you were most surprised at the fact that he had not gotten up before you and left you all alone.

You looked down, finding yourself clean and clothed in some oversized shirt that definitely didn’t belong to you. Whatever it smelled good, making your heart flutter.

“G’morning…” a voice yawned from beside you, rough with sleep. You looked over at Rafe as he stirred and rubbed his eyes, still laying down, a cheeky grin lazily coming on his lips as he extended his arm to pull you back.

“Not gonna let you get out so fast, baby.”

[werecreature-addicted]

I remember some of your posts about a minotaur who lived with a peasant girl, can I ask for something about that? If it's not a bother of courseDue to the life that the minotaur has had, its instincts never appeared, that is, it never went through a stage of heat due to the stress and abuse to which it was subjected, but now everything is different, it is calmer, more relaxed, and it began to pay attention to a girl, specifically the girl she lives with, and apparently her instincts are beginning to appear, her body asks her to "mate" with her partner, although it is difficult to control herself, plus they are nothing yet and the girl does not know that minotaurs also go through a hot season, and it's not like she was going to ask him that, it would be very strange xd

(imagine that poor cock crying to enter the girl, but he must hide it, even if it is uncomfortable)

Sam master list for previous parts.

under the cut because this is long...for me at least.

Normally when it came to the physically demanding chores around the farm Sam liked to do the heavy lifting, literally. You were stronger than you looked but you still didn't have the monstrous strength that he did, and even besides that, he liked to spoil you. He'd never admit it out loud but he liked the way you sometimes watched him as he repaired the siding of a barn or hammered in a sense post. Something about the way your eyes followed him left a warm feeling in his belly. It's especially nice now that sometimes you kiss him after he's done a good job.

Now though, he just stands and stares as you work, nailing together bits of wood making your own saddle stand out of leftover bits of material. You looked so good, sweaty, and bent over your little bench. Is this how you felt when you watched him work? Sam doesn't even have the vocabulary to describe the strange heat that burns inside of him. He's supposed to be doing other work right now but he can't tear his eyes from you.

He wants to bend you over that saddle stand and- and what? He flinches back from the thought he didn't want to hurt you and he hates that his instincts are pushing him in that direction. But he wouldn't hurt you, his mind argues back. He wouldn't pin you down to hurt win a match or something. He'd be gentle. He'd pleasure you. Sam shudders. Where were these thoughts coming from?

His nostrils flare and even from across the barn, he can smell you and the salt of your sweat makes his cock throb. Sam sits down hard and pulls a nearby milk bucket over the large tent in his pants. He immediately feels stupid and tosses the pail aside, it did more to draw attention to his boner than hide it. He settles for just sitting awkwardly and hoping you don't notice.

How can Sam ever look you in the eye again after this? He supposes he shouldn't feel so guilty about being attracted to you but surely it's perverse to want you this badly when you're not even doing anything. At least if you were naked in bed trying to seduce him he'd have good reason to be this turned on. Sam shudders and replays the mental image of you, naked in bed, looking up at him trying to pull him towards you. Fuck he needed to get on top of you.

Just as that thought crossed his mind you bent over the waist-height wooden stand to grab something from your toolbox jutting your ass out in front of him. In a second Sam is on his feet, walking towards you before he can register what he's even doing, all he knows is that he needs you.

"oh, Sam-" you gasp, jumping a little when you turn to see him right behind you. For someone so big he moved silently. Sam takes a step forward and presses you back against the barn wall. "What's going on honey?" you ask trying to sound calm but you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous about his behavior. Sam had always been so cautious with you, overly gentle and paranoid that he might hurt you by accident. The Sam you knew would never pin you against a wall like this, it was nervewracking but also exciting.

"I uhm I just wanted to be close to you I guess," he mumbled, lowering his snout to your shoulder as if he was smelling you. Sam steps closer and you feel something brush against your thigh at first you think it's his leg but you look down and realize it's his barely restrained cock poking into your thigh.

"Do- are you uhm in heat Sam?" You ask and the monster on top of you freezes.

"do- do minotaurs go into heat?" he asks puzzled.

"I guess I don't know but most monsters do have you really never gone into heat before?" You ask then wince, it made sense that he wouldn't go into heat when he was under such harsh conditions his body wouldn't let him go into such a vulnerable state.

"No," he said, his hips grinding softly against your thigh he groans at the friction and you can't help but shudder too. You might not go into heat but you did want him just as much. "Will you help me?" he asked desperately.

"yes- yeah, I'll help you let me just-" As soon as he has your consent all other thoughts fly out of his head. He pushes his mouth to yours kissing you and effectively shutting you up. This wasn't like any of the other soft and innocent kisses you and Sam had shared in the past this was heated, and needy and caused a warm heat to bloom inside of you. This isn't a kiss for the sake of kissing, this is a kiss that promises much much more to come.

Even desperate like this, Sam still tries to be gentle as he strips your clothes and kneels down so he can hook your legs over his broad, muscular shoulders, your back pressed to the wall of the barn he holds your weight easily.

"I'm going to get you nice and prepped for me, my cock is big and I need you to take every inch, okay?" he asks softly, kissing the soft skin of your inner thigh as his thick fingers ghost over your cunt.

"Hold my horns while you rid my face," Sam instructs. You look down at his horns, one normal and the other broken and jagged. You hesitated, you knew how much that broken horn hurt him and you didn't want to grab it, but before you could put much more thought into it Sam pressed his mouth to your cunt, running his large soft tongue over your folds getting you wet enough to slot his big fingers inside of you. You yelp and settle for holding on to his good horn with one hand and tangling your fingers in his hair with the other.

Sam's cock ached. He needed to be buried inside of you, but he held himself back. He imagined the pained squeak you'd make if he tried to fuck you without any prep and that was almost enough to snap him out of his lusty haze. Almost.

You lose count of how many times you cum as he stretches you out and gets you ready for his dick, eventually though he decides that you're ready for him, or he just gets tired of waiting. Your legs tremble and for a second you worry you're not going to be able to stand on your own but you needn't worry, Sam had no intention of letting you stand. he readjusts his grip so that your legs are over his forearms and he pins you against the wall again his cock nudging your opening, slipping up your pussy as he tries unsuccessfully to push into you. His cock head bumps your clit and you feel a pulse of warm precum ooze out onto your hot skin making you shudder, your thighs tense in his arms, and Sam grunts, spreading your legs a little further as he grinds his cock over your cunt again.

You reach between your two bodies and grasp his cock. You curse silently to yourself feeling the weight and girth of it for the first time. You stroke him a few times before you guide his dick inside of you.

Sam had been so careful to be gentle with you this whole time, but now that he feels your tight heat gripping him in a way he's never felt before he no longer has the restraint. His brain shuts off and he feels more like a beast than he has in years. Sam slams his hips against yours burying his cock to the hilt in one swift motion. You cry out and dig your nails into his biceps, holding on for dear life as he thrusts into you with all the strength of a bull plowing a field. You're pretty sure you hear something crack and for a minute you aren't sure if it's you or the barn wall behind you that's breaking.

Sam groans loudly as he sinks his cock into you over and over again. His hips have a mind of their own as they steadily rock back and forth. He hates to admit it, but every time you cry out in pleasure or in pain it makes his cock throb. He would have thought the sound of you hurting-hurting because of him, would be enough to break his heart instead it makes him whimper and only fuels his desire to fuck you harder and fill you with his cum until you were swollen with it.

The mental image of you bloated with his seed proves to be too much for him and with one more deep stroke he cums deep inside of you, his legs shake with the relief of finally breeding you. He pulls you away from the wall and crashes backward into a hay bail laying down to catch his breath while keeping you impaled on his cock.

It feels right to have you on his chest and be surrounded by the earthy comforting smell of hay and dirt. You shift a little and his hands fly up to your hips pushing you back down.

"Stay... please," he almost begs softly.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sam, I just want to get off your dick," you promise, trying to shift again. then he looks at you with the saddest most pleading look you've ever seen. his big brown cow eyes sparkling at you.

"Please don't, I want to be inside of you so you can feel me get hard again before I fuck you," he mumbles pleadingly. how could you say no to that face?

[the-s1lly-corner]

Sharing the bed with various CRP characters 1/2

Same song and dance as the cuddling post! If theres any characters you want to see, let me know! If theres also any specific scenarios you want to see dont hesitate to drop them, love doing these kinds of posts

Characters: Slenderman, Splendorman, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Masky, Hoodie, Jeff, Puppeteer

Notes: Reader is GN, can be seen as romantic or platonic

CWs: mentions of blood but it's nothing huge, better safe than sorry though

Slenderman

He hardly ever crawls into bed with you, on nights where he is with you he tends to linger in the corner- or if you insist, he will take a seat on the foot of your bed if you feel the first was.. creepy.. not that this solution is any better- he is never going to lay down, thus, with a broken heart I have to give him the first rating of 1/10, with his only saving grace that he will protect you should anything happen

Splendorman

Unlike his fellow slenderbeing, Splendor is more than willing to crawl into bed and try to lay with you! It's a bit of a tight fit, though, even with him manipulating his body as small as it can get... it can get a little uncomfortable, unfortunately. And spirit can only make someone so comfortable.. 3/10

Eyeless Jack

I personally headcanon that hes on the shorter side- 5'5 to 5'7, so thankfully space isnt an issue! He runs cold, so if the nights are hot hes a good option for a cuddle buddy! But how is he in his sleep? He sleeps like a rock- he doesnt move or shift around all that much so you're unlikely to be disturbed! He.. does snore, though, or at least that's what it loosely is. Its more like gurgling due to any of his gripping goo getting into his throat- not a good noise.. will wake up coughing and spluttering.. 5/10, a pretty average sleeping experience

Laughing Jack

He doesnt need to sleep and he can only pretend sleep for so long before he gets antsy- it takes him a while to understand that you need your sleep and how much you need. He doesnt mind staying in bed and cuddling with you to pass the time- hes very large, warm, and comfy so it's not a terrible set up! Sometimes pretends sleep, complete with a fake snore. A little big for the bed at I feet tall, and sometimes snatches the blanket to fully sell the "fake sleep" thing as well as rag dolling on you 6/10

Masky

He doesnt sleep around you, it's just a little quirk of his that he doesnt let his guard down at all- he doesnt exactly distrust you but its.. complicated. Hesitant when you offer to let him crawl into bed with you, he's rather fond of the little perch hes made in the corner of your room, but you cannot deny that he looks like a sleep paralysis demon to your fuzzy sleepy brain. Still as a corpse in bed, WILL yank the blanket back if you steal it in your sleep 7/10 not very disruptive otherwise

Hoodie

Will crawl into bed with you and get up close to you, loves pulling you close to him during the night. Falls asleep after you do, though he probably watches you in your sleep... smells like wet leaves and mulch 7.5/10, he let's you take his hoodie sometimes or even just crawl into it with him. Does not give a shit if it gets stretched out he can always get another one. Sleeps between you and the door to the bedroom

Jeff

Heavy sleeper and he snores loud, so good luck with that. Probably also a blanket thief. Bounces between staying up all night or falling asleep the second he hits the bed- really it depends on what hes been up to... at least he usually has the manners to take his bloodstained hoodie off before crawling into your bed.. probably kicks in his sleep.. 4/10

Puppeteer

Very hard and very cold, and I don't think he would need to sleep but can if he desires. Wants to be the one cuddled, just make sure to bundle up with some extra blankets so you can stay warm! Doesnt snore but you can hear his joints creak with each movement- you know, puppet stuff.. 5/10, not terrible but not spectacular

[cvntluver444]

7 mins in heaven w ellie😇😇😇😇

thank you so much for your request and your support love!! <3

✞ 7 minutes ✞

✿ summary : the request!

✿ warnings : smut minors/men (boys) dni, puss rubbing, dirtyy talk, shy reader, sweet ellie, ellie teaching reader, reader is in closest!!!!!!, mentions of reader in str@ight relationship, almost getting caught!, if i missed any lmk pls!

✿ a/n : thank you for supporting my works as always! this is not my best work bc i used all my creative brain juice on my last fic so i am so sorry! unfortunately, i am headed back to school this weekend so my writing is going to slow down, but i'm not stopping don't worry babies. im hoping to put out 2-3 fics a week still!!!! keep sending in those requests! I have one more to work on, so to the anon who requested it its coming i promise my love!!!!

ALSO i did kind of make this a personal fic im so sorry LMAO basically i just explain how when i finally realized i was gay YAYAYA !!!!!!! but yeah warning again the reader in this is based on me so it is like finding out you're into girls later on kind of thing so if this is something you're not interested in feel free to skip! I hope you like it lucy!!! (idk if that's your real name im just going to call u that teehee) i love you all so much! muah

✿ as always, please remember to keep spreading information on and support Palestine!!

daily click

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you anxiously played with your fingers as the last of the party guest gathered around the huge circle. your friends and you decided to spend your saturday night at one of your classmates party, resulting in you now dreading your turn in the 'truth or dare' game.

"you okay?" you turn your head to your left as your eyes land on your friend, who clearly could pick up on how nervous you looked.

"yeah i'm fine," you tell her. "just hope i don't have to do anything stupid or embarrassing. she laughs at your comment.

"don't worry, i doubt you'll even get picked. there's a lot of people here and were all drunk so, who cares!'. her shouts fills the room, drawing a couple eyes toward the two of you. you giggle and hide your face, trying to tell her to keep it down. in the midst of shushing her, your eyes graze the room, watching people roll their eyes at her behavior. but your eyes catch someone else's and you freeze.

ellie williams

she sends you a soft smile, a dark look in her eyes. you gulp and look away quickly. god, she was so hot you thought. you hope she couldn't how flustered she made you. you hope no one could. your whole life, you've always had no problems catching boys' attention. you could have a whoever, whenever, but with this luxury came its flaw. you never actually liked the boys you went out with, you just loved being loved, being in a relationship. you never understood why you felt that way, but just continued on normally, not giving yourself a chance to actually explore more about yourself. but when you first met ellie freshmen year, the feelings finally became visible, especially after finding out she was also into girls; however, you were still not sure if she felt the same. This caused you to once again burry your feelings and close yourself up. You were too scared, and way too sober to even try to talk to ellie.

suddenly, a loud voice can be heard yelling throughout the house. "truth or dare starting now in living room," on boy shouted. your palms became sweaty and you prayed that everyone would pick up on your uncomfortableness and just leave you alone. as always though, the world likes to work in funny ways, and you feel a large presence sit next to you and tap you on the shoulder.

"hey," the boy smiles, "cool if i sit here?" you just give me a simple nod of your head and continue your attention elsewhere, your thoughts interrupted once again. "you look good tonight, by the way". you turn back around, and give him a quiet thanks, and before he could respond, everyone around you begins to pick who will go first for the game.

after three or four people went, you began to grow annoyed. the man next to you could not take the hint, and you were the only person here not having a good time.

"alright williams," the room cheers silently, "truth or dare". your attention is now fully on ellie. she stares up at her friend who just picked on her, small smirk on her face as she answers with a confident dare. "hmmm," her friend hums out loud, looking around the room. you swear you see their eyes stop on yours for a second, before they get an idea. "i dare you to do 7 minutes in heaven," they pause and the room is filled with oooo's. your heart drops a bit. "a person of your choosing." now everyone was going crazy. everyone knew ellie was gay, and everyone knew she made every girl gay, so it was a pretty heavy dare.

ellie smiles up at her friend, sage you think their name is, before she slowly starts scanning the room. you quickly look down, hoping that your avoided eye contact would make you more invisible. your only focus now was watching your fidgeting fingers and giving back half asses answers to the man beside you who still will not shut up.

you hear ellie suck in her breathe before she slowly gets up from the ground. all you wanted to do in this moment was sink into the ground, not sure how you were going to handle seeing ellie pick another girl that isn't you and go fuck her in the closet. too deep in your thoughts, you don't hear the air leave your friends lungs as a certain someone stalks towards you. you only know ellie is right in front of you once you see the beat up sneakers sneak right under your vision.

your eyes widen and you cant breathe. there has to be someone behind you right? no, she could not pick you. in fear that you would be disappointed when looking up, you keep your head down, telling yourself that you're just-

your friend next to you quietly says your name, excitement laced in her voice. she was the only one you told, the only one you could trust with something so personal to you, so to say she was absolutely ecstatic to see ellie pick her best friend, well that was an understatement.

after your quick reality check, your line of vision trails from the top of her feet, all the way to her line of vision, where you see hear towering over you, smirk on her face. you felt like you were going to throw up.

"wanna come with me?" she asks you, that little smile never leaving her face. you look around the room, everyone in just as much shock as you. you look back at ellie, and without thinking twice, you nod your head yes.

she grabs her hand out for you to take, and you two make your way into the closet in between the living room and kitchen, but not before ellie yells something along the lines of keep yourselves busy, and don't be pervs. you feel like you're dreaming, you can't believe ellie williams picked you. but suddenly, you're brought back into reality when she closes the closet and turns on her phone flashlight.

"so," she begins, "how's your night been." you now grow extremely insecure at how little you've been talking to her, not knowing exactly what to do next considering you've never been with a girl.

"oh uh," you begin, "it's been okay. what about yours?" stupid stupid stupid.

"pretty good. saw that guy talking to you. you looked uncomfortable so thought i would save you." she gives a light giggle, but your heart drops and you look at her with sad eyes.

"oh uh yeah haha thanks," you attempt to say, sadness clearly laced in your voice. ellie picks up on it.

"are you okay? did he do anything?" she asks you, coming closer, concern reading all over her face. you blush at how much she cares about you.

"no, no, he didn't do anything, just was annoying," you let out a breathy laugh. "i guess i just thought that we were gonna, ya know, since you picked me, um, never mind this is stupid." your cheeks are now red with embarrassment, and ellies face softens at your rambling.

"aw, no sweetie. just because i picked you doesn't mean we have to do anything. i know you're not into girls." she gives you a friendly tap on the shoulder. ouch. your heart has now sank completely, and you slowly go to reach for the closet door handle. ellie looks confused, before she panics and grabs your hand.

"where are you going? it hasnt been 7 minutes yet sweetheart," she asks you.

"i was just gonna go back. kinda boring just doing nothing here." you tell her sadly.

"well, what do you want to do?" she still hasn't caught on? at this point, you feel like you will never get another chance again. with your ego still a little boosted that she chose you, you answer her.

"i wanna kiss you, ellie," you tell her. she freezes in the spot she's in before she slowly relaxes and relief washes over her face.

"i wanna kiss you too." she tells you. you look up at her, hope in your eyes, and she slowly grabs yours chin with her fingers and pulls you towards her. your lips meet and you both slowly start to make out. now you know why it was called 7 minutes in heaven. pleasure rushed through your body, and you instantly melted into the kiss. it was the first time you actually felt something when kissing someone, and in the bliss of this new feeling, you now put your arms around her shoulders.

the kiss deepens and turns more sinful as ellies hands now trail down to your ass and give it a light squeeze. you moan into her mouth and she groans back in response. her hands now start exploring your body, covering every inch of you until they make their way down towards your loose jeans. you quickly pull away, feeling like a complete virgin even though this kind of stuff is nothing new to you.

"woah, hey, you okay? we can stop if you want," ellie tells you, scared that she may have gone too far.

"no ellie its not you, its just," you try to find the right words. "i've never actually been with a girl before." you tell her, shame written all over your features. she lightly grabs your face once more as she gives you another passionate kiss.

"im happy to help you through it, and if you ever want me to stop, you just tell me." she explains, leaving light kisses all over you exposed next and chest. you moan out as you give her your permission to continue. her lips find her way back to yours, taking control of the kiss. in between each breath, she made sure to tell you how beautiful you were, and how much she had been dreaming of this. you return the compliments, gasping when ellie now picks you up and leans you down on the closet floor.

now on top, she puts all her weight on her elbow, as the other one trails down from your chest, then your stomach, to finally the place where you needed her the most. still kissing you, her fingers undo your buttons. once your jeans were shoved down, and your panties moved to the side, ellie breaks the kiss.

you whine from the loss of contact, and she shushes you. "is it ok if i touch you?" she asks you politely.

"yes, ellie. please touch me," you beg her. "want you so bad." her lips suddenly reconnect with yours, and her fingers start rubbing light circles on your clit. you moan as she teases you, never feeling this way with any guy you've ever been with.

"you make the prettiest noises," she tells you, nipping at your lips. "fuck, and you're so wet too." her talking alone brings you even closer to your high, another new feeling.

you feel her fingers now trail down and tease your entrance, making the most sinful sound. she bites her lips, then starts pumping two fingers inside of you.

your eyes now roll to the back of your head and ellie falls to your side, the new position allowing her to finger you even faster. your head leans into her shoulder, and tears brim in your eyes from how good shes making you feel.

"faster, please," you beg, now staring into her eyes. the innocent look on your face causes her pussy the clench.

"yeah baby? you want me to go faster?" she teases you. "ill do anything for you beautiful." that was enough to send you over the edge, and you start to shake and she speeds up her motions.

"els" is all you can get out, but she knows exactly what you're trying to say, telling you to let go and cum all over her fingers.

and you're about to, until you hear yelling outside the closest door, and people are banging on your door, telling you seven minutes has passed.

you and ellie groan, and you're about to scream out of frustration, before ellies low voice cuts you off.

"i want you to get dressed and meet me outside my car, we can finish this at me." she tells you, a loving look on her face. you giggle and give her a quick peck, before jumping up and putting on your clothes.

you two come out of the closet, rushing towards the front door, completely ignoring all your friends and strangers random questions flying your way.

"where are they going?"

"are they holding hands?"

"do you think they did anything?"

"they so fucked."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

✿ a/n: heh, they came out the closet. anyways, like i said, very personalized im sorry i hit my penjamin and im in my feels but i really hope you guys liked it! my requests are still open! love you all so much and don't forget to follow because i post frequently!! <3

[seung-mong]

☆han - super graphic ultra modern girl!☆

the first installment in seung-mong's kinktober 2024!

synopsis: han thinks hes seeing things. he usually enjoys camping by himself, but when a bright light and a high pitched noise makes his head throb and his nose bleed, he genuinely thinks he could die. now he REALLY thinks hes seeing things because.. is that someone falling from the sky? after deciding to sleep on it (passing out), he meets you. and uh, oh yea. he's definitely seeing things! "it doesnt matter tho, he'll never have what it takes to be with a girl like me!"

includes: loser nerd PERV!han x alien fem!reader, subby hanji, han jisung is a SIMP LOSER he is so desperate its silly, mention of bondage, use of some kind of aphrodisiac, its really nasty and sloppy bc han jisung has a spit kink i didnt say it i mean i did but i uhm anyway

wc: 10 k WOAH

a/n: wanna know what this super hot alien baddie is saying? use this! thanks for being so patient. i love u

han jisung sweeps back the stray strands of hair that have fallen across his forehead, the thin layer of sweat making it stick uncomfortably against his skin. his brows are furrowed, eyes squinted against the harsh rays of the sun.

he could have picked a better spot to set up camp, but he's far too lazy to pack everything up and find another place. besides, he risks losing this perfectly fine clearing in between the thick of the trees. he supposes its decent enough, close enough to the stream so he could make several trips back and forth to refill his canteen.

he wishes minho was with him, though. he's not really that used to camping alone. by now, minho and him would be fishing for dinner. instead, han decided to pack as many canned foods and prepped sandwiches he could to last him the next couple of days. he never had much luck with fishing anyway.

honestly, you would have thought he was being forced to do this all alone! he shakes off the thought, promising himself that he was completely fine with the fact. he digs for his fishing hat in the duffel bag he proceeds to unceremoniously toss into his tent.

"first order of business, build a fire." he speaks out loud to himself. he jolts back as if surprised by the own sound of his voice, then chuckles to himself.

"okay this is a little weeeeeird," he shakes his head, eyes trained on the ground for any promising branches he could use for his supply.

"hm, not that weird? people talk to themselves all the time." he shrugs, bending down with a squeak as he grabs a couple of logs, then tucks them under his arm.

"nah, its weeeeeird. you're here all alone in the middle of the woods and talking to yourself. OUT LOUD. like a full on conversation. as if there are two parties exchanging information. YOU'RE ALL ALONE. and you're still talking out loud...." he continues to yap to himself, the only other sound besides his voice is the satisfying crunch of the leaves under his boots. he decides that bones crushing would sound similar.

"okay, that was a weird thought. do you need help? hahaha"

he cringes when his voice echoes.

he takes a deep breath and holds it, letting it out only when he feels the familiar burn in his chest. he shakes his head, chuckling at himself.

he wonders how long it will take for him to break.

by his eighth hour alone, han jisung feels like he's going just a little crazy. at first, he thought he was hearing voices. it turned out to be his own. talking. out loud. into the darkness of his tent.

he sits against the pole supporting his tent in the middle, knees to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. he finally got to reading the beaten up copy of pride and prejudice that hyunjin lent him, but after reading the same sentence eight times over and over again, he yelled out loud, scaring himself in the process, and chucked the book to the other end of his sleeping bag.

"i should sleep," he groans, looking out into the dark of the forest.

"but its at such an awkward time!" he whines, rubbing his face in frustration. "if i sleep now i'll wake up soooo earlyyyy."

"but im so bored!"

han groans, turning around to lean his head against the wooden pole. he stays like that for a while, chewing on his bottom lip. he's been silent for too long, the ringing in his ears is getting louder and louder.

"fine! i'll go for a walk!" he clasps his hands together before pushing himself off the ground, grumbling to himself as he pulls on his padded jacket and slips into his thick boots. he double checks the burner he used to heat up his dinner is off, and zips up his tent.

it's way too cold for him to be out here right now. han immediately realizes his mistake a good mile away from his camp when a shiver runs down his spine the third time in a row within a five minute interval. the hand holding his flashlight is shaking violently, the other hand tucked tightly in the pocket of his padded jacket.

he's starting to overthink, the eerie silence and his wild imagination running in the dark as he ignores the weight that's started to settle in his chest. he feels as if someone's watching him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention. he shakes his head.

for the most part, han loves being alone. he always more of an introvert, treasuring his alone time. he loves spending time by himself, getting to recharge and do things on his own without that icky feeling of being perceived by others.

he spends most of his hours alone.

he knows how it feels.

which is why he knows he's not alone right now.

in the dark of the woods where the trees are thicker, taller. he swallows the fear, chalking it up to his mind playing games on him. maybe there is such a thing as too much alone time.

"okay, i think thats enough for tonight." he announces into the darkness of the woods.

before he can turn around, a sharp ringing sound pierces his ears. its too loud, too high in pitch. han falls to his knees, flashlight falling onto the ground as his hands rush to cover the sides of his head, palms flat in an attempt to block out the high-pitched ringing.

he's never felt this sensation before, almost as if the soundwaves have entered his brain and proceed to jump all around. his head is pounding and he falls forward into the dirt, knees tucked into his chest in a fetal position.

he thinks hes going to die, truthfully. he faintly registers the fact that his hands have grown wet with what he can only assume is blood. its thick and warm and trickling in between the gaps of his fingers. he's beyond dizzy, eyes scrunching up in pain as he tries desperately to gather himself.

he has to get out of here.

there are tears coming out from his eyes at the pain, but through the thick blurry fog of his tears, he sees a beam of light coming down from the otherwise dark sky. the light blue light casts a shadow, the leaves of the trees dancing on the forest floor.

han thinks hes about to pass out. his skin is covered in goosebumps, and the sharp ringing in his ears have reduced to a dull hum. he blinks slowly, resting on his back as he accepts his fate.

he's dying and god is waiting to pick up his soul, casting a heavenly light down onto his poor, withered, totally dead body. he stares directly into the beam of light that hovers over him. a dark silhouette appears to come down to him, long flowing hair rustling in the wind, arms reaching out to him.

"are you... my guardian angel?" he chokes out once the shadow creeps closer, close enough for him to make out the features of the creature's face through half-lidded eyes.

"beautiful," he whispers, closing his eyes and awaiting the sweet kiss of death.

okay, maybe he was being a little dramatic.

he realizes this now when he jolts awake, leaves crunching under his body from the sudden movement. he's disoriented, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes as he takes in his surroundings.

he doesnt remember falling asleep in the middle of the woods. han's known for being able to fall asleep anywhere, but on the cold, hard, ground? out in the open? where animals could have feasted on him? thats just plain silly.

he sits up, and he's met with a sharp throbbing pain in his head. he lets out a grunt, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to collect himself. he looks around, his flashlight dead beside him. how the hell did he get out here?

he follows the trail back to his camp after walking down to the stream and splashing his face with the cold water, body aching and head still pounding. he considers wrapping this camping trip up and taking the rest of his leave from work in his cozy one bedroom apartment, safe from mosquitoes and ear-splitting ringing and lights from the heavens.

his tent looks normal enough once he finds the clearing, but the nearer he approaches, the more the hairs on his arms stand at attention. he's 100% sure he remembered to zip up the entrance to his tent. the entrance which is now wide open, the flap tucked neatly under a couple of stones.

he feels his heart drop to the pit of his stomach, throat closing up as the dread starts to settle deep in his chest. he swears he remembers locking up properly before going on a walk. he approaches his tent as quietly as he can, fingers clamped tight around the base of his flashlight, ready to swing it as hard as he can at whoever the hell has invaded his territory.

he peeks his head in, his mouth dropping at the sight.

it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

suddenly, he recalls the events that happened right before he passed out. the loud ringing, the flash of light, his guardian angel.

who's standing inside of his tent. completely naked.

ohmygod, he did die. he's in heaven right now.

he drops his flashlight, mouth opening before he can rationally make a decision.

"hey! you'r-" he's cut off by the zap of electricity that comes once you lock eyes with him, a heat that spreads throughout his whole body and renders him speechless. and for the second time within twelve hours han jisung feels himself collapse on the ground before darkness takes over his vision.

the first thing he feels is the cold. and then the sharp stinging in his cheek. his eyes fly open, and he immediately feels the pain all over his body.

he has never felt this beaten up before.

and then he feels the sharpness on his wrists. he attempts to move one, before he realizes he's tied up. he sits up straighter now, pulling at the rope thats tied tightly against his wrists, binding him to the pole in the middle of his tent.

if he's in heaven, why the fuck does it hurt so much?

"⍙⊑⍜ ⏃⍀⟒ ⊬⍜⎍ ⏃⋏⎅ ⍙⊑⍜ ⎅⍜ ⊬⍜⎍ ⍙⍜⍀☍ ⎎⍜⍀?"

jisung turns towards the source of the weird gibberish to find you sitting calmly on the edge of his bed.

he should be scared. but you're far too beautiful for him to register any actual threat.

you look human enough, your skin could pass as one, no ridges or bumps or patterns or scales to suggest otherwise. but there's something off-putting about your face. your features are too symmetrical, bug-like eyes narrowed and sitting too close to one another. your ears are way too small, especially now as your hair steers clear from your face. its subtle, the way a person could glance at you and not be suspicious. but the longer jisung stares at you, the more his fears are confirmed.

you're not from around here.

"w-what?" jisung whimpers, as if you would be able to understand him.

the look you give him sends a shiver down his spine.

you rise to your full height, top of your head bumping against the roof of his tent. you're definitely taller than him. then his eyes fall to the rest of your body, which, he might add, is completely bare. your skin is smooth all the way down to your pelvis, an even tone except for the area above your pelvis which turns a little darker.

he should be alarmed by the fact that your body is different from that of an average woman, noting in awe at the smooth plane of skin where your belly button should be.

but all he can think about is the fact that he's got a hot... being... standing in the middle of his room.

"eng,,,english?" your voice is small when you ask, as if you're unsure yourself.

han only nods.

you make a sound, and han can only assume you're cursing by the way your brows furrow and your eyes shut in frustration.

"english... not so good." you mumble, scanning the room for something.

"i'd say its pretty good." han squeaks.

you stare at him blankly. you walk around his tent, stepping over his legs and picking up everything you see. he watches you examine the pots he used to make his dinner before setting them gently on the ground.

he cant believe he's letting this happen to him. he watches in horror as you dig through his bag, taking out all the clothes he's brought on the trip. you're quite literally prodding around his personal belongings, and he's watching you, letting you, with a chub in his pants.

is he sick?

in his defense, you're completely naked in front of him, bending over and exposing yourself to him. han's always been known to have... different sexual preferences. admittedly, hes a little bit of a freak. to put it quite bluntly, he's into that supernatural shit. he's not afraid to say it! he digs that tentacle shit. he briefly wonders whether or not you possess some kind of supernatural abilities. he's read all about them. aphrodisiac slick? tentacle's hidden in between your legs? oooo does your tongue-

you make a sound of surprise before picking up the book he'd abandoned last night, excitedly turning to him.

"⟟⌇ ⏁⊑⟟⌇ ⌇⍜⋔⟒ ☍⟟⋏⎅ ⍜⎎ ⌇⏃☊⍀⟒⎅ ⏁⟒⌖⏁?" you hold the book in your hand as you sink to your knees beside him.

"i-m sorry i dont understand," jisung whispers.

you huff in frustration. "what... you do... this?"

jisung tries to understand your broken english. "oh! you uhm.. you read?" he nods towards the book in your hands, moving his head back and forth to show you that you have to open the flap, turn to the next page.

you tilt your head in confusion. you start to mimic his movements, moving your head back and forth in the same motion. jisung has to bite his lip from laughing.

"look, i could help you but you tied me up, so..." jisung nods towards his restraints.

you study his face for a long moment. "you.... harm?"

jisung shakes his head so violently he can feel his brain moving. "no. no harm. promise."

you give him one last look from head to toe before slowly nodding. you inch closer to his chest, arms wrapping around him to reach for the painful knot that keeps him hostage. han lets out a sigh of relief once the tie loosens, shaking the ache away from his hands.

you continue to stare at him, slightly backing away as he reaches for the book on the ground.

"you read it. like this, see?" han opens up the book on the page he had dog-eared last night, gliding his finger across the page to highlight the words.

you make a weird rumble sound from deep in your chest, eagerly snatching the book away from him. your brows furrow as you attempt to read, slowly sounding out the letters under your breath. han watches you, eyes trailing from your wide eyes to the purse of your lips as you read. they fall to even more dangerous territory down to your chest, and the smooth skin of your stomach, to the space between your thighs.

"oh!" he squeaks, awkwardly clearing his throat after catching your attention. "you should put on some clothes. you can borrow some of mine, no titty- i erm, mean no biggy!" he stands then, walking over to the mess that is his duffel bag. he pulls out his worn out alien shirt (very fitting, he thinks) and a pair of sweatpants. you'll just have to do with no underwear for now. he takes his time in refolding all his clothes before dumping them in a wrinkled pile at the bottom of his bag.

"here, put these on." he offers you his clothes from where you sit cross-legged on the floor of his tent. you finally pull away from the book, and stare blankly from the fabric in his hands to his face.

a beat passes before han finally clears his throat. "you uh... put them on. like mine, see?" he gestures towards his shorts.

"why?" you ask.

oh dear.

"oh, well. people dont... respond well to seeing other people, or well in your case- a being's naked body." he explains, crouching down beside you.

you dog ear the page just like he did before closing it and setting it down on the floor.

"you.. you dont respond well?"

han swallows. "oh, well i mean, more of like the general public."

"so you... okay with me, naked body?"

his cheeks warm. "i mean, its not exactly a problem. you're pretty and interesting to look at with all due respect, but like- i dunno you might be a little... cold?"

you shake your head before placing your hand on his cheek. he jolts at the contact of your warm palm on his skin.

"oh. you run hot." he squeaks.

you nod.

how in the hell can he persuade you to just put on the damn clothes? not to be a perv or anything but he feels so icky shamelessly staring at your body, and you're none the wiser. he can feel himself half-hard, (a totally valid response, he would argue) but the guilt is eating at him. he doesnt want to take advantage of your naivety.

"but the clothes... they provide an.. extra layer of protection, you know" he winces at his lame response.

your eyes widen, reaching for the clothes in earnest. "armor?"

han bites his bottom lip and nods.

you look down at the fabric in your hands with awe before you stand up. you look down from the clothes back to han.

han mentally slaps himself. "oh, right. er- lemme help you."

han crouches down, holding the sweatpants out for you. he gently guides your legs to where they need to go, slipping the pants up your thighs and settling them on your waist. his fingers brush against where your belly button should be as he ties the strands tighter, to ensure the fabric wouldnt fall down.

"there yo-" to say han was blindsided by the heavy hand that smacks across the side of his face is an understatement. your whole palm lands against his cheek. his jaw drops in shock as he looks up at you.

"⍙⊑⏃⏁ ⏁⊑⟒ ⎎⎍☊☍? ⊑⍜⍙ ⎅⏃⍀⟒ ⊬⍜⎍ ⏁⍜⎍☊⊑ ⋔⟒ ⏁⊑⟒⍀⟒!" you yell, clutching at the hem of his sweatpants and taking a step away from him, as if wounded.

"i- what?? what happened i-"

"⎅⍜⋏⏁ ⏁⍀⊬ ⏁⍜ ⎅⟒⋏⊬ ⟟⏁! ⊬⍜⎍ ⏁⍜⎍☊⊑⟒⎅ ⋔⟒ ⏁⊑⟒⍀⟒, ⊬⍜⎍ ⌿⟒⍀⎐⟒⍀⏁!" you continue to rant, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"okay, okay... lets calm down- just- tell me what i did? what happened? did i hurt you?" han holds his hands up in surrender as he slowly approaches you.

you take a deep breath and stare him down. "dont.. no touch." your voice is hard.

"okay, okay. im sorry." jisung coos.

"that... p-part! no." your voice wavers slightly.

"i hear you. i understand. im sorry, okay?" his voice is gentle as he takes another cautious step towards you.

you let out a deep sigh and nod. "i- i sorry too. i hurt you."

"oh, no its fine." han bites his tongue in an attempt to hold back the tears in his eyes.

he approaches you once more, this time with the shirt bunched up to place it on your head easier. you gasp at the sensation and han chuckles.

he wonders how he would react if he were in your shoes, in an unfamiliar planet with a man you can hardly understand, as he pokes and prods at you.

how did you even get here in the first place? he decides he'll save his questions for when you're a little more comfortable with him.

he gently wraps his hand around your wrists and guides them into the shirt before he reaches around to untuck your hair from the fabric, letting it sweep down your back.

"there! now you.. kinda look like me." he laughs.

you stare at him. "ha. ha. ha. what that mean?" you ask.

"oh, when something is like.. funny? if you like something you kinda.. laugh." he struggles to explain.

"oh. ha. ha. ha."

han cant help the giggle that escapes him. "oh by the way. whats your name?"

"name?"

"well i mean... me, han jisung." he points towards himself, poking his chest for emphasis. he turns his pointer fingers towards you before gently poking your chest.

you make a sound of understanding before you tell him yours.

"oh. y/n. thats pretty," he compliments.

you make a sound akin to a purr, rumbling deep in your chest. "i- i read. you book. okay?" you point.

"oh, alright!" han bends down to pick it up before he hands it to you. "its starting to get dark. i'm gonna start a fire okay? i erm- i leave for a bit. you stay."

you only nod before sinking to the ground, folding your legs under you as you lean against the supporting pole of the tent. "i stay." you reassure him. its not like you could go anywhere else anyway.

you watch as han gives you one last smile before he steps out into the dusk, zipping up his tent behind him.

you like han, you decide. you were exiled onto this planet for.. a crime you had no choice but to commit. you understand the gravity of the Supremes' punishment now, throwing you down into a disgusting, vile planet such as Earth.

why couldnt they have dropped you off at Sebion? at least you'd be the most intelligent sentient being. sure, the siens were a little annoying, constantly screeching at the mark of every hour. but that, you could live with. humans? a totally different story.

you remember the lessons they taught about humans, the most selfish, vile creature to exist in the universe. they look a little different from what you've been taught, though. they're supposed to have sharp teeth and long nails. the scariest part about them? they lie. imagine that! the thought sends a shudder down your spine. you know all about the evil that is the human race. possessed by horrors like greed, selfishness, and hatred.

they're the creatures that scared you the most. you could deal with the merqrai on vikunus. they had a weakness, a soft spot on the top of their head you could whack and render them unconscious. but humans? just about the only sentient being in the entire universe capable of betrayal. they are inherently evil, your tutors said.

you think back to how you had zapped han jisung, how his body folded like cloth into a heap on the floor. was electricity their weakness? something about han jisung makes you believe he's different, though. he's certainly not as ugly as the humans they showed you in class. he's almost a little pretty, with round eyes and chubby cheeks.

you'd like to think he wouldn't lie like the other humans, too.

by the time han jisung returns to his tent, you've finished reading the interesting novel cover to cover. admittedly, you skipped all the boring parts and instead focused on the dialogue. you wanted to impress han with your new english.

"hello." you chirp cheerily as soon as han jisung enters, removing his gloves and settling closer to the radiator in the middle of the space.

"oh! hi." jisung blushes, reaching his hands out to the heat.

"you are cold?" you coo, moving a little closer to sit beside him.

han just giggles. "yea, a little. it's around winter now so its getting chilly. i think its gonna snow tomorrow."

"winter? the cold time?" you vaguely remember your tutor telling you all about the seasons on Earth.

thank god you picked up those extra lessons on Earth.

"yea! does it snow where you're from? han is seated more comfortably now, legs stretched in front of him.

"snow? the... uh... from the sky? falling, yes?"

"yea! the little white things that fall from the sky."

"oh... no snow at home. just uhm what you call it... rain?"

han beams at you. "you said your english was bad, but i think you're doing perfectly fine. pretty good for someone not around here, actually."

you cant help the smile that creeps on your face. a silence falls over the both of you after, with han staring deeply into the emptiness of his tent. you look at him now, really look at him while he's distracted.

his eyes really are pretty, glowing here in the dark and shining a little thanks to the reflection of the fire lit in his tiny lamp. you inch a little closer to him now, slowly just until your thighs press against the side of his.

"erm- what are you doing?" han instantly pulls away.

"cold? i warm you." you offer, bringing your knees to your chest in an attempt to make yourself small. you figure maybe he's a little apprehensive to be too close to you. you did happen to zap him earlier.

han lets out a sigh and crawls back to his seat next to you, the side of his body pressed firmly against yours.

"damn, you're really hot." he chuckles before inhaling sharply at the double meaning. he doubts you'd understand.

"i know. you shake." you coo, draping one arm over his shoulders and pulling him to you a little more firmly.

han stiffens at your side, head awkwardly pressed against the side of your chest. he can faintly hear the rhythm of your heartbeat and his eyes widen.

"whoa, thats so cool!" han exclaims, pulling away from you.

you tilt your head in confusion as han gently cups the back of your neck to pull your ear against his own chest. you gasp at the sound.

"so slow!" you yell, looking up at him in awe.

"and yours is so fast." han chuckles, resting his head against your chest once more.

you let him wrap himself around you, the weight of today falling on han's shoulders as he subconsciously slips into a state of sleep. you watch as his blinking slows, until his lids flutter into a final close. his breathing evens then, warm air tickling the side of your chest with his every exhale. a deep rumble starts within your chest, a vibration that spreads throughout your whole body until the tips of your fingers. you reach up to delicately stroke his hair away from his face, his smooth skin and sharp nose drawing your attention.

"so pretty," you mumble, your own eyes fluttering shut to the sound of han's heavy breathing.

when jisung wakes, he's cold and shirtless. he sits up abruptly, throwing the weighted blanket off his upper body and scrambling for his slides. its far too early for his heart to be beating this fast, but panic settles in his chest when he registered your absence.

"y/n?" he croaks, hastily unzipping the flap to his tent and all but throwing himself outside.

"morning!" you cheer, hair wet and dripping onto what was han's shirt from yesterday, now damp and hanging awkwardly on your frame, as you'd shoved an arm and your head into one hole, stretching the fabric around you. in one hand, you hold a sharp, pointed stick. impaled on it are several colorful fish, flopping in an attempt to escape their inevitable death.

on the other hand, your clothes from last night.

"oh." jisung exhales, hands coming up to clutch at his chest.

"i.. i catch these!" you beam, extending the stick to him.

jisung can't help but giggle a little. "yes. i see that. thank you. my errr- my shirt?"

you look down as if just remembering that you'd stolen his shirt from him in his sleep.

"oh! i... i walk to the water to clean me, i see in the water this," you shrug to the fish, "but then i cant reach! so i go in and catch them. but i get wet. so i take off. but then i see people and i remember what u say to me. 'general public dont want naked body.'" you finish seriously, voice lowered in an attempt to mimick han's.

han's heart drops at the mention of other people.

"you.. you saw someone? where?"

you turn and point to a clearing not far from the other edge of the river.

"a man. like you!" you cry excitedly. "can we meet?"

"no." han's voice is firm as he wraps his hand around your arm, pulling you to the tent. "lets cook that fish for lunch. maybe we should go back to the city." he thinks aloud to himself. not a lot of people know about this campsite, somewhat of a private haven shared between his friends. minho's father used to take them camping here, and the only other people who know of this site are minho's close friends. he's a little worried to run into someone he knows right now with you here with him. not that he wants to hide you or anything...

"the city!" you screech, plopping yourself down on the floor. "i want to see! i hear about the... the things you move in? the big.." you proceed to gesture wildly, hands reaching out to grip onto something and steering left and right.

"yes, a car?" han offers, turning the burner on as he watches you with fondness.

"ohhh yes! i want car." you sigh dreamily.

han approaches you as he lets the food cook, snorting to himself as he reaches out to fix your shirt. gently, he raises the collar and removes your arm, shooting it in the right hole.

"there. you're like a big baby."

"your baby! ha ha ha ha." you joke, looking to han for validation.

instead, his cheeks redden and he shrugs. "i guess, yea?" he turns away from you as he reaches into his duffel for a shirt of his own.

a couple of beats of silence pass before you turn to han. "do you have mate?"

han chokes on his own saliva, doubling over in pain as he slaps his own chest.

"i- what?"

honestly, you have no idea what possessed you to ask that question. you suppose its the curiosity in you. but another part of you is less naive. you know whats happening with han. after last night, the way you fell asleep in his arms with his heartbeat in your ear. he's sweet to you, kind and patient. you wonder if humans do these things to each other regularly, or if, like your kind, such special moments are reserved for special people. you sincerely hope its the latter.

"i just... wonder. like elizabeth and mister darcy." you mumble.

han chuckles at that. "oh. right, then. no. i dont have a mate. do you?"

you blush. you didnt expect him to ask you the same question. you firgure you're fine with opening up to han.

"i did."

han's eyes widen as his whole body turns to you in bewilderment.

"what?" he squeaks.

you give him a small smile filled with nothing but sadness. "not now. i did have but now no." you clarify, shrugging.

"aren't mates for life or something? what do you mean you dont have one now?"

you stare at him blankly. han suddenly feels as if he's overstepped. "i'm sorry, i didnt mean to-"

"mate is a bad man." you sigh, gaze dropping to the floor.

han swallows, staying silent in fear that making a sound would somehow change your mind about sharing something so personal with him.

you stare at him thoughtfully for a minute before you continue. "he was forced mate. for me. i dont choose," you explain, brows furrowing. "he want me but i dont want him."

"why?" han cant stop himself from asking.

you make a face, and han laughs. "ugly?"

"very."

"so what happened?"

you shrug. "he try to mate me. i say no. he say yes! i hurt him. he send me down here."

"thats horrible." han shivers, pouting at you.

"yes. worst punishment. earth." you sigh, shaking your head.

"hey, its not that bad." han bumps you with his shoulder, trying desperately to lighten the somewhat heavy mood.

"yes. not bad." you say genuinely, holding his gaze.

han coughs awkwardly and smiles sheepishly at you before he stands abruptly. "you should come to the city with me. you can stay at my place for a while and get used to things and then maybe... i dunno. we'll see. how does that sound?"

you simply stare up at him with a blank expression on your face.

han swallows before starting once more, "we go to the city. my house. you stay and then.... you leave. when you want."

"oh yes!" you yell excitedly, "in the.. uhm car?" you're eager.

"yea... its kind of a long ride though, you'll probably grow bored."

han could not be more wrong. from helping him pack up his tent to bringing his stuff to his car, to squeezing everything into the backseat, to settling down in the passenger seat- you're absolutely buzzing. if you were locked in a room, han's sure you'd be bouncing off the walls.

"what is that?" you point out to the green fields just outside your window.

"thats a cow," han answers your umpteenth question of the day.

"and that?"

"another cow."

"that?"

"still a cow."

"and this?" you finally turn your attention to the things inside the car. your finger glides across the top of the stereo, fiddling with the buttons and twisting the knobs.

"thats the radio. it plays music, see?" han turns the radio on to a random station, a song he recognizes by gorillaz playing softly.

you stare in awe. "whats that language?"

"music," han hums along, turning the volume up.

"when you're close to me~ dun dun, dun dun dun dun dun, dun dun," han's thumbs drum along to the beat on his steering wheel.

"i like that. ha ha ha," you offer thoughtfully, trying (and failing) to match the way han bobs his head along to the music.

"yea? thats good. we have something in common."

by the time han pulls into the parking right under his unit, you've somewhat calmed down. admittedly, he swears he didnt mean to, but his mind wandered to the man you crossed paths with in the woods. what if he saw how... different you looked? he imagines you thrashing wildly in the river, catching fish with your bare hands. he worries his bottom lip until he can feel a little bit of blood. what if he told someone? what if someone comes to take you away from him?

not that han feels like he owns you in any way, but he cant explain the feeling of responsibility he has over you. he tries to tell himself its silly. you've known each other for 2 days! and yet when han watches you stare out the window in awe, he feels his heart beat erratically in his chest and his cock twitch in interest. do you even feel that way for him?

you on the other hand, are completely confused. han starts to get quieter and quieter the nearer you get to his home. you start to wonder if he's suddenly regretting bringing you here. he starts to zone out, completely ignoring your questions. you figure maybe he's grown tired of your yapping, constantly asking him questions. instead, you busy yourself with staring out the window.

honestly, you can find some similarities between his planet and yours. the tall buildings that seem to tower over everyone, the way people seem to walk with purpose, a destination in mind. there are many different creatures on this planet, some that walk on all fours and are significantly smaller than humans. han tells you they are called "animals" and that there are lots of different kinds. han tells you he has one in his apartment. a "dog" he calls bbama.

"just... stay right behind me, alright?" han says anxiously, keys tight in his hand.

you're starting to get a little nervous yourself. clutching tightly on to the straps of his bag.

han exhales as he pushes open his front door. "bbama baby? daddy's home!"

the little puppy bounds excitedly for the door, barking and yipping at his feet. han coos down at him, gently settling his bags down by the door and moving in to allow you some space to enter.

"we have a visitor, bbam! say hi." han scoops his little baby up to his chest and holds him out to smell you.

you stay frozen in fear, the furry creature sniffing at you wildly before his tongue darts out to lick at your hand.

"HE GOT ME. HE GOT ME." you start to sob, backing into the farthest corner and clutching at your hand as if in pain. bbama is taken aback by your loudness and starts barking, tail wagging as if to say he enjoys this game.

"its okay, its okay! he likes you!" han reassures you, biting down on his tongue to keep from laughing.

"he.. he attack me! with his mouth!" you accuse, waving your fingers in his face.

"noooo, he kissed you! its a way to show you like someone, see?" han lifts bbama up to his face, who immediately starts licking his cheek enthusiastically.

you watch, still a little apprehensive. you lower your hands, scooting a little closer to the furry ball in han's arms.

"he... he's so small." you note, tilting your head to scan bbama's whole figure.

"yea, hes just a baby. he's totally harmless." han coos, setting bbama down on the floor. the dog immediately runs to your legs, jumping up and down.

you only stare at him. "what is.... his purpose. like why?"

han is a little taken aback by your question. "for friendship?" he offers.

you seem satisfy with his answer, carefully stepping over the dog as it continues to nip at your pants, weaving in and out from between your legs as you walk around han's apartment. its nice and cozy, bright with lots of windows to let in light. his living room is cute, a long couch and a tv, a funky rug in the middle.

han watches you look around, rocking back and forth on his heels as he takes a deep breath. "uhm.. so this is where i live." he says weakly.

you nod. "its nice." you hum, running your fingers along the countertop in his kitchen. you continue to look around until your gaze lands on him, fixed on the way he seems to wait for your approval.

"okay. well, uhm. you can sleep in my room and ill take the couch."

you tilt your head. "why apart?"

han swallows. "well.. i mean- its just.. not right..." your heart sinks a little. not right?

"i want near you. like in your tent." you refer to the night han slept in your arms.

"no! that.. that cant happen again. you sleep in my room. i sleep here." han's voice is final. he cant allow himself near you, guilt suddenly eating at the way his body reacts to you. he knows he cant help but be attracted to you. its just the fact that you're so naive, so clueless to the way he yearns to touch you. he feels like a total perv.

your brows furrow in confusion. you thought maybe you were past this weird awkwardness with han. he seems to prove you wrong now, eyes darting nervously across the room and to the floor, as if mapping out a way for him to get out of this conversation.

"you dont want me?" you ask sternly.

"what? no! i dont-"

han is interrupted by the sound of keys jingling by his door. his heart drops when he remembers he's home two days early. he'd asked minho to house sit for him.

"oh. you're back?" minho opens the front door before han can successfully close the door stopper, making him look like a fool as he lunges awkwardly forward and quickly stopping himself.

"oh- yea i dont feel well." he forces out a weak cough.

"riiiiight. okay who's this?' minho nods to you, who appears from the kitchen at the sound of another voice.

you gasp. "another human!" you quickly approach the pair, ignoring han's quick head shakes of no.

"err.. yea?" minho raises an eyebrow before turning to his friend. "seriously who is this?"

"no one! just some random i said id give a ride home aha haha," han sweats.

no one? you are no one now? you give han a stern look before you lock eyes with the stranger.

"i am y/n."

"cool. i am minho. where you from?"

"im from zemenia!"

"oh... cool. exotic."

"thats enough getting to know each other! bye bye now." han quickly pushes minho forcefully by the chest, nudging him until his whole body is out in the hall.

"you still have to pay me for the 2 days, alright?" minho says.

"whatever, fuck off. bye!" han throws himself against the door dramatically, huffing and running a hand through his hair.

"that was close," he chuckles, turning to you.

your face does not match the wide smile he so proudly wears. your face is twisted in a scowl, arms crossed in front of you.

"what?" han squeaks.

"why? why do you hide me?" you storm away, plopping yourself on han's couch.

"what are you talking about?" han whines, chasing after you. "what if minho found out about where you're from? who you are? what you are?"

he spits the words out as if disgusted. could that be it? han is disgusted by who you are? what you are?

"ah, so you are ashamed." you're quick to argue.

han cant believe his ears. where is this coming from? he falls to his knees in front of you. "what? no! im not ashamed of you."

"then why do you hide me? you are so confusing. you hold me and say things to me and i like that feeling. but then you act weird. and say you dont want to stay near me. and you hide me from other humans! and then you almost kill me with your bbama!" you're throwing your hands in the air, clearly agitated.

han's frowning. he knows you must feel confused, overwhelmed. but he's also smiling at the back of his head. "y/n-"

"i... i dont know! these feelings. inside.. i dont- i dont feel these things at home. i- this is all so different! and you're confusing me." you groan, kicking your legs up to the couch and hugging them to your chest.

han sighs. "no.. you got it all wrong. let me explain, okay?"

"⏃⌇⌇⊑⍜⌰⟒" you bite back.

"hey. i dont like the sound of that." han whimpers.

you only roll your eyes.

han sits up with a sigh, crawling slowly next to you. he grabs you by the knees and forces you to turn your body towards him. his fingers rest there, gently caressing the skin there.

"look, i am not. ashamed of you. at all. i think you're the coolest thing to ever happen to me! which is why... im scared." han sighs.

you look up at him, fearful. "you scare of me?"

"no! i just- im scared that... someone's gonna take you away from me as fast as i got you, you know?"

you nod, timid.

"and im.. a little overwhelmed. that feeling you feel? with all the... feelings in you? and you're all confused, right? thats how i feel too! like... its kinda weird because we've known each other for such a short amount of time but.. i just feel... i feel something for you." han finishes off quietly, gaguing your reaction.

you only stare back.

okay, lets try again. "i.. im like mr darcy. and you're elizabeth. except i havent read the book so i dont know if they end up together... do they?"

"they are together."

"yea, so like.. i like you. but i feel bad."

"but why?" you whisper.

"because... i feel like im taking advantage of you... i feel like. you only know me. i feel like im trapping you. and i feel like its going too fast." han rushes everything out, like he's rapping.

you blink at him. "are humans... slow?"

han lets out a chuckle. "well, much slower than this." he gestures between the two of you.

"but. you like me. i like you. what is the problem?" you say, like its the easiest thing on earth.

han is caught off guard by how sincerely you look at him. maybe it could be the easiest thing on earth. maybe he's too in his head about everything.

you reach out to hold his hand, breaking him out of his trance. "no problem, yes?"

he huffs. "no problem."

han spends the rest of the afternoon making it up to you. he cooks you some food without setting his kitchen on fire, which, in his books, counts as a miracle. he watches as your eyes light up with every spoonful, the flavors exploding in your mouth. he holds your hand in understanding as he tells you how everything back at home tasted the same. he makes a promise to feed you everything ever.

he lets you watch everything your heart desires, heart hammering in his chest as you watch his favorites with the same enthusiasm as him. he answers all your questions with patience, never once making you feel like a burden. you appreciate that.

and later, after youve both showered (he insisted on doing this separately lest he get a heart attack), he dresses you up in his comfiest clothes and settles you on the bed next to him. you watch him in anticipation. he swallows, turning to shut the lights off.

"hannie," you coo, reaching for his hand.

"yes?" he tries to be nonchalant.

"you dont want to touch me?"

he fails.

"i- i dont know..."

"we do that at home too, you know?' you tease him.

his heart falls just a little. "oh. youve done it?"

you shake your head, no. "mate for life. remember?"

han swallows. "r-right."

"you shake. you scared?" you try your best to calm him down, sitting up beside him.

"well, i- just never done it, too." he mumbles.

"good. we learn together."

you're a fast learner, apparently. han showed you how to kiss, gentle and slow. yet you're here on top of him, arms wrapped around his neck as you kiss him incessantly. he can do nothing but take it, desperate hands clutching at your sides in an attempt to ground himself.

its so wet and sloppy, your saliva mixing with his and creating a puddle that leaks out the corner of his mouth in drool. it makes him dizzy, the way your tongue pushes against his.

"i- wait, lets slow down." he manages to squeak before you devour his mouth once more.

"you humans and your slow." you hum, pulling away just slightly to allow han some space to breathe.

he looks so pretty like this, eyes glazed over and cheeks rosy. his glasses are askew, lips shiny with spit. you lean over to lick at his cheek, the way he told you those who like each other do.

"there. you feel that i like you, right?"

han thinks its lethal, the way you do things that are just so dirty, and you're so unaware. he's never been this hard, and all you've done is just kiss him a little.

"y-yes. i like you too." han coos, hand resting at your nape and applying pressure to push your face closer to his, lips finding yours once more.

"i feel like i like you more." you pout at him.

han shakes his head. "no way," his voice is so much thicker, so much deeper as he leans forward to press his lips against yours.

you deny him a third time. "hannie, show me you like me." you whisper.

he blinks up at you stupidly. "h-how?"

you reach for his hands and drag them to the hem of your shirt. he understands, quickly undressing you and throwing the fabric to the opposite corner of his room.

"you're so beautiful." he gasps in awe, chin resting against your chest as he looks up at you.

"you can touch me. its okay." you reassure him, dragging his fingers along your bare torso. he relishes in the feeling of your warm skin against his, tips of his fingers gliding along inches upon inches of your skin, up and down your sides and across the front of your stomach. you hum, fingers tangling in his hair as you watch him explore you.

"want you to take off, too." you sigh, pulling at his shirt. he complies with no protest. hes back to kissing you the instant his shirt is off, hands coming up to cup your cheeks and pull you infinitely closer to him. he licks into your mouth eagerly, taking every drop of spit in your mouth as if its meant for him. you allow him to, letting out little sounds and squeaks.

"need you to ride me, please? will you ride me, baby?" han whimpers against your lips, hands groping at your chest.

"show me how," you're breathless when you pull away, leaving enough space for han to shimmy his pants off your hips. he groans at the sight of your thighs, plush and ready to be marked. you're eager for him, spreading your legs to show the slit in between your thighs.

he watches in awe as you dip two fingers into your hole, scissoring the digits until you feel you've loosened yourself up enough.

"you, please. off." you mumble.

han obeys instantly, rushing to push his jeans down his thighs, shaking the fabric off until it sits at his ankles. you blink once you take in the size of his cock, hard and aching for you.

han suddenly grows shy, hands cupping his cock as his ears grow red. "whats wrong? is it.. is it okay?"

"its... big. not as big at home." you exhale shakily.

his dick twitches. you think he's big?

"its okay, let me eat you out, itll feel better when its wet." he promises, pulling you to sit on his face.

you back away in panic. "you eat me?" you ask in shock.

han laughs, breathless. "no baby, not literally! just... let me show you, okay? trust me?" he hums, stroking your thighs gently.

"o-okay." you relax in his hold, allow him to maneuver you until your core sits right at his open mouth.

"relax, baby, i got you." han coos, before he lets his tongue out to scoop the liquid in between your thighs.

the taste immediately goes straight to his head, making him dizzy and hot. he lets out a low groan. now, han is a munch. he loves eating pussy. all kinds of pussy, truthfully! he's not one to discriminate. he thinks every pussy is unique and none of them should be compared to one another.

yours though? oh he means it deep in his balls when he says its the best. the taste is different, genuinely sweet like honey as it trickles down his throat. he swallows up everything you have to offer to him, growing deaf to the way you moan pitifully above him, ignoring the painful sting that your fingers bring when you pull at his hair.

"hannie! thats.. good! i- i ⍜⊑ ⋔⊬ ⎎⎍☊☍ ⏁⊑⏃⏁⌇ ⌇⍜ ☌⍜⍜⎅!" han chuckles against your mound, sticking his tongue as deep into you as he can. he thinks he's tripping now, lightheaded as his blood rushes south. suddenly everything's so sensitive, his senses heightened. every time your fingertips brush against his face he jolts a little, the sweat on his back suddenly too wet, too much for him to bare.

you fall apart on his tongue with a cry and han hums in triumph, swallowing the nectar you gift him. you shake on top of him and han drags you down to his lap, sitting up to wrap his arms around you.

"good?" he asks, cocky.

"yes," you sob, eager to kiss him as thanks. he accepts gratefully, tongue swirling with yours as he situates you on top of his aching cock.

"can i put it in, baby? please. please let me fuck you, y/n." he begs, pathetic.

you hum, your forehead resting against his. "you have to ask some more. thats how it is."

han whimpers. you're making him beg for it? how cruel. "please, baby. i'm literally so hard right now, it hurts so bad. never been this hard. need to put it in your pussy so bad,"

"hurts?" you coo condescendingly, wrapping your slender fingers around his cock.

han can only whimper as you tug on his dick. "please,"

you give in to him then, "put it in, then."

he scrambles to wrap his hand around his base, rubbing the tip along your slit to catch the wetness there before he presses in. you bite your bottom lip, the stretch getting to you.

"im sorry baby, does it hurt? i bet it hurts so bad." he hates that he's hurting you, but he cant deny the way he throbs harder at the face you make, eyes squeezed shut and mouth gaping open. he pulls you closer, shoving his tongue into your mouth in an attempt to distract you from the pain.

you sloppily kiss him as he sets you deeper onto his cock, your thighs shaking from the effort. you let out a gasp once you take him to the base, feeling so full.

"oh my holy fuck," han gasps, bringing his fist to his mouth and biting down on his knuckles in an attempt to holding off his orgasm.

he's just started, and he can already feeling it end.

what kind of alien pussy magic is this?

"oh!" you exhale, hands gripping tightly onto han's shoulders. "its.. a lot," you're speechless.

"it feels so good," han whines, arms wrapping tightly around your waist.

you start to move then, rocking your hips back and forth, driving han absolutely crazy.

"fuck, yes. take my cock baby. its yours now." he babbles.

"mine?" you coo, nuzzling into his cheek.

"you can have my whole house. take everything i own. just dont stop moving your hips like that, please." his mouth is filthy, and you only smile.

"like this?" han whines when you speed up, fingers scratching the skin on your back.

"im so sorry baby i think im gonna cum." han pouts as he looks up at you, looking genuinely sorry. "i cant hold it."

he's not usually this sensitive, but something in the way your pussy hugs him just right has him losing his goddamn mind.

"its okay, hannie. i like you so much." you coo, holding him close. he shoves his face in between your breasts as you ride him for everything he has, cumming wildly with a shout. he spills inside you, eyes squeezing shut as tears threaten to spill down his cheeks.

mygod. its good enough to make a man cry.

you hold him gently, soothing him with scratches down his back. its a long while before han pulls away from you, sweaty and red in the face.

"ill do better next time, promise." he pouts at you.

"ha ha ha. we have all the time. promise." you coo back, wiping away the strands that litter across his forehead.

"thats true. you're not going anywhere anymore." he pulls out of you and swiftly tackles you to the bed, a squeak slipping past your lips as han holds you down against the bed, his sweaty body pressing against yours. he brings his ear up to rest against your chest, the quick boom boom lulling him to sleep. you watch with fondness as han starts to snore, your fingers gently rubbing up and down his back.

how ironic for you to find home a million miles away from where it was once. he thinks its a little out of the ordinary, this love you two will share. who cares though, really?

han's got his fantasy alien baddie girlfriend.

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[faithshouseofchaos]

Franco x male reader who absolutely can't stand microfibers and immediately pulls his hands away from franco's race suit (are those even made of microfibers?) Like its on fire, and fans just bash on reader cause what do you mean franco's boydriend doesnt give him hugs for doing good in races? And then franco just has to explain that reader severe revulsion to the texture of his race suit.

Pins and needles— Franco colapinto x reader

Word count- 974

Fluff/angst

Franco stood on the podium, grinning from ear to ear as the crowd erupted in applause. He had just secured a solid finish, and the adrenaline was still buzzing through his veins. As the celebration continued, his gaze swept over to where his boyfriend, the reader, stood on the other side of the barrier, waiting for him. There was a familiar glimmer in his eyes, a quiet pride, even though his posture seemed a little stiff.

When the crowd began to thin out, Franco made his way over, expecting the usual gesture of affection. But as he reached out, ready to pull the reader into a tight hug, something unexpected happened. The reader flinched, pulling their hands back as if they’d touched something scalding. It was almost imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t paying close attention, but Franco caught it immediately. The reader’s fingers twitched and curled into fists, clearly avoiding the material of his racing suit.

“Hey, what’s up?” Franco’s voice was soft, almost teasing. But there was a hint of concern that crept in, just enough to make the reader feel guilty.

The reader, already feeling the heat of the crowd’s gaze, hesitated, then muttered, “I… can’t… the suit.” Their voice trailed off, an apology forming on their lips but never quite reaching the surface.

Franco’s brow furrowed, realizing what was going on. He looked down at his fireproof race suit—Nomex, the synthetic aramid fiber that protected him from flames but also had a rough, uncomfortable texture. It was a fabric that he barely noticed anymore, but he knew that the reader had always had an intense, almost visceral reaction to it.

Before the silence could stretch too long, the inevitable happened. The whispers started—first quiet, then louder. Fans who had been watching closely began to exchange confused glances, talking amongst themselves.

“Did you see that? Franco’s boyfriend didn’t hug him…”

“Why is he pulling away like that?”

“Don’t they—? Are they okay?”

Franco felt a knot form in his stomach. He had never been one for the public eye, but this was different. This wasn’t about his performance on track; it was about something deeply personal. He could already feel the weight of judgment in the air.

The fan chatter grew louder, and with it, a tension began to build. Franco could feel eyes on him, on them—everyone was trying to figure out why the reader had pulled away. A few spectators started to mutter accusations, their voices tinged with disbelief.

“He’s cold, isn’t he? I knew it was all for show—what kind of boyfriend doesn’t even hug his man?”

“I bet Franco doesn’t even care. This is just for the cameras, right?”

The judgment stung, but Franco wasn’t going to let it affect him. He knew the truth. He looked up at the crowd, then back at the reader, and stepped forward. His voice was loud enough for those near him to hear, but gentle, trying to ease the tension.

“I know you’re all wondering why he didn’t give me a hug,” Franco said, his tone casual but firm. “And honestly, it’s not because he doesn’t want to. It’s because my suit—” he gestured down at the Nomex fabric “—it feels like sandpaper to him. It’s not just uncomfortable; it’s something that gets under his skin. Literally.” Franco laughed softly, hoping the humor would help diffuse the situation.

The reader stood there, frozen, the murmurs of the crowd crashing over them like a tidal wave. They had never been one to enjoy the spotlight, but right now, it felt suffocating. They could feel their face growing hot with shame. It wasn’t Franco’s fault, and yet, they couldn’t shake the feeling that they were letting him down.

Franco gave them a soft, understanding smile, stepping a little closer, as if to shield them from the growing crowd. “You don’t have to touch it, babe. But I still want to hold you.” His voice was low, just for the reader, a soothing comfort in the storm.

The reader, eyes downcast, took a slow, shaky breath. The last thing they wanted was to make Franco feel unloved or unsupported, especially after such a big moment. The worst part was that they knew everyone else was watching, judging their every move. But there was no escape from the sensation—the scratchiness of the Nomex, the feeling of the fibers pulling at their skin. It was like a physical revulsion they couldn’t control.

“I’m sorry,” the reader whispered, not loud enough for the fans to hear, but enough for Franco to catch.

Franco’s expression softened, and without hesitation, he reached out, gently guiding the reader into his arms. The moment was quiet, just the two of them, and he made sure to avoid any contact with the suit’s harsh material. The reader slipped into his embrace, not touching the Nomex, but still feeling the comfort of being held by him.

The murmurs from the crowd began to die down. Some fans now looked slightly embarrassed, realizing they had jumped to conclusions too quickly. Others were nodding, understanding now that it wasn’t a simple case of neglect, but a matter of texture—a very personal one.

“I’m not mad, you know,” Franco whispered into the reader’s ear, his hand lightly rubbing their back, a gesture of reassurance. “You don’t have to explain to anyone but me.”

The reader nodded, their chest tight but easing with every word Franco said. The warmth of his embrace, the safety he provided, drowned out the noise. The fans weren’t the issue here. It was about them, about understanding and patience.

As the moment stretched on, the world seemed to melt away. The judgment and whispers faded into the background, leaving just the two of them—Franco, who understood without question, and the reader, who had never felt more loved in a moment of vulnerability.

[aureatchi]

⋆ ☽˚｡ 𓂃 ࣪˖ AND THAT DAY THAT WE’LL WATCH THE DEATH OF THE SUN . . . ft. FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY

⟢ PRÉCIS. restless at an hour far too late to be awake, you take a quest to the personal library lit only by warm-toned ambient lamps and candles. however, you are greeted by one who chastises you to rest, and despite his pretty face you remain stubborn. in turn, he takes up a mission on his own; one that he alone will always win: to coax you to sleep.

◞ OR fyodor knows time is limited. if only you realized this was his labyrintian way of saying au revoir for now.

ᡴꪫ a/n. it’s always his lap. been thinking about this scenario for awhile + re-inspired by the friends who played with my hair this week hehe. it makes me feel so sleepy. started to cope with ch113. :’) i hope this is decent ᡣ𐭩

ᡴꪫ info. fem!reader. fluff; sweetly suggestive in one part…and then hit with a train of angst; i warned u. soft fyodor. comfort/hurt ↻. religious imagery. it’s u trying to get him to sleep too. both poetic and shakespeare ramblings. bsd manga chapter 113 + s5 finale spoilers. russian may be incorrect. ﾉ wc. 3.1k+

“Is there anything you find more powerful than manipulation?” 

Seated on the armchair across from yours, the ravenette took a sip of tea from his mug before setting it down. A bantering parley had taken place in between you two, filled with giggles and smiles, but in a moment without thought, you had brought up a more serious topic. 

“Actually, yes,” he responded. 

“A woman’s intuition.” You didn’t miss how his gaze slightly lowered. “The woman’s gut feeling is superior. If a man were to try manipulating her, she would know. No matter how naïve she was, the body would give her a single signal that could unravel his entire disposition at the fingertips.” 

You discreetly smiled, looking down at the mug. You knew Fyodor was referring to his experience with you. At one point in time, he tried to finesse you in schemes of calamity. But in response, you ruined him—he would dare not admit out loud that you had forcefully taken whatever mess his heart was and sewed it back together with the strings of your own soul. You did so without ever realizing either. After so many years on this earth, even he did not know how to mend himself. 

Now, he could only look at you as being the single thing that didn’t go wrong in the wasteland of the world. The ravenette almost considered you not of the world—you were as divine as the angels, after all. Perhaps it was his excuse to add along another duty the Father had commissioned to him—Fyodor would assure your safety and happiness through the rest of time—even once he got his hands on that book. 

Because if not plans that surged through his mind, it was his most cherished memories of you. 

…

Even though the room wasn’t too hot and the bed wasn’t uncomfortable, you could not go to sleep. You had tried counting sheep in your head for hours, but you still ended up awake well past midnight and had enough sheep for dozens of herds. 

You turned over in annoyance before you finally sat up. You didn’t understand why you felt such unease—maybe you drank your coffee too late in the day. A bad decision at that. 

You tapped the other side of the bed for a final check. Empty. Fyodor was still up. You would visit him in the office later, but for now, you’d give him the privilege of being unbothered. You decided on another place to visit—somewhere that would calm you down so perhaps you could finally catch slumber. 

The personal library. 

It was the coziest place, especially during the late hours of the evening, where the lights were warm and dim, not too hard on the eyes. Where the shelves were packed with literature and knowledge permeated the room with its philosophy. Fyodor annotated everything—so most books were scribbled in almost illegible cursive Russian. You always told yourself if you didn’t start to learn his lingo, you would be locked away from the library’s secrets forever. 

You tiptoed down the hallway until you reached the door at the end. You were thinking of picking up one of William Shakespeare’s tragedies and reading until either you fell asleep or the sun rose. You prayed it wasn’t the latter—though restless, you were exhausted too. And you didn’t want to suffer the consequences the next day. 

However, you were surprised to see the door already narrowly open. The lights were on and the candles were lit, too—was Fyodor not in his office? He seldom worked anywhere else and would always go to you as soon as he finished. 

You peeked through the slight crack in the door. He was indeed there—your lover’s back turned towards you, capturing all his charming enigma. How the man carried himself with the poise and elegance of a white dove, despite starting wars among nations. His mouth spoke of divinity while he ravaged the harmony of life with his hands. It was fitting; Fyodor was a juxtaposition in himself—you knew this, and so did he. 

“You can come in.” A second of pure silence passed before you opened the door to step inside. Not even a single noise was made, and yet, he recognized your presence. 

Almost shyly, you shuffled towards him. You did not plan for Fyodor to catch you—you were still in between deciding whether going inside was worth his lecture. 

Because although the handsome workaholic stayed up until absurd hours of the night, he did not want you following his ways. 

You circled the lounging area until you were in front of him, who closed the journal he was writing in. 

“Lyubov, why are you still awake?” he asked. 

Usually, you only stayed up out of anticipation in waiting for his return—whether from a mission or just to the bed. You were so stubborn that Fyodor would actually halt his work for a few days after being gone for awhile to sleep with you so that he was sure you were resting properly.

It was different this time. He had been home for the whole month, and despite being in his office for the majority of this week, you didn’t have any problem with going to bed without him until now. 

You shrugged with a quiet, “I’m not sure.” You eyed the unfamiliar journal. “Are you still working?” 

“Sort of,” Fyodor replied. “Would you like some chamomile tea? That will help.” 

You shook your head. “What do you mean ‘sort of?’ Last time I checked, you were either working or not.” 

“It’s not any more important than addressing the current problem at hand,” he calmly dejected the topic, leaving you confused. 

“What’s the current problem?” 

“You’re awake. You shouldn’t be at this hour.” 

“Well, now that I’ve found you here, I don’t think I can return to bed unless you come with me.” You dramatically yawned before stepping closer to him.

“Let’s go sleep, Fedya.” You tried dragging him up by the arm, but he stayed sat on the armchair, much to your disdain. 

“I cannot, I’m not done yet,” Fyodor replied. As you froze, he took your hand in his and brought you to his lap. 

“However, you must sleep.” He let you shift so that you were comfortable. “You came here to read?” 

“Yeah,” you replied as he handed you a book. What a mind reader Fyodor was—you were presented with The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. It would be the perfect reread. 

“Why this play?” you tested. 

“The pile of books you never put back on the shelves over there shows you’ve been reading a lot of tragedies lately,” he nodded towards the stack of books you read this week. “I thought you’d probably be in the mood for one by none other than the master of catastrophe.

“Plus, it’s fitting for you, too,” he added, voice a bit lower as he fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. “You’re so dramatic.” 

“Hey!” You pouted, moving away from him, pretending you were insulted. Though you knew too that further proved his point. 

“Maybe we should act it out,” you joked as you scanned through the pages to find a poem you were familiar with. “Act two, scene two.” 

“Hamlet’s letter to Ophelia,” Fyodor recalled. 

“Doubt thou the stars are fire;

“doubt that the sun doth move; 

“doubt truth to be a liar; 

“but never doubt I love.” 

“Dlya neye, v iskrennosti,” you squinted, reading the little note by the quote you did not understand. The Russian laughed at your terrible pronunciation. 

“Some scholars say that Hamlet used his words toward Ophelia as a manipulation tactic,” he stated. “He had a larger strategy at hand, and he rarely mentioned her unless she was on stage, with the exception of her death. If he harbored such a profound love for her, would Shakespeare not make it more direct? What do you think?” 

You contemplated for a few seconds, eyes drifting amongst the shelves of books as you felt your lover behind you gently run his fingers through your hair. 

“I think Shakespeare didn’t give us clarity for a reason. I’d like to believe Hamlet did love Ophelia. The story does not revolve around romance, after all—it revolves around revenge. A man with ambitious plans would not have love at the forefront of his head. Or, he wouldn’t speak aloud about it, at the least. Perhaps he was more reserved about that aspect of his life, too—he could’ve been shy to speak about it in front of all aristocracy—like you, for example.”

You giggled with a shrug, expressing your last phrase as lighthearted, but you still earned a slight frown from him. It was amusing that the nationwide terrorist was timid in everything concerning his love life. 

“Obviously, it could be taken as manipulation, too,” you continued. “But again, it’s not stated upfront for a reason. Shakespeare mirrors the complexities of a person in real life. You never quite know the truth of other people, no matter how much you think you know them.” 

Fyodor nodded, satisfied with your interpretation. “I wholly agree. It is why Shakespeare is enticing to many—he creates characters that simulate life’s universal themes and relatable human emotions when reacting to those situations. I only disagree with one point you made.” 

“Which one? You being shy?” you asked. He shook his head with a smile. 

“Perhaps I will reward you with that knowledge if you sleep.” He chuckled when you groaned in disappointment. 

“How about you just do your work while I read? Then, when you finish, we can leave together.” 

“If it were that easy. You’re a distraction, milaya.” 

You rolled your eyes. “No, I promise! I originally came here to read anyway—I won’t distract you this time.” You moved to one side of Fyodor’s lap so he would have space to do what he wanted. 

He did not answer you, instead making a quiet “tsk” when his fingers caught on a tangle in your hair. Fyodor worked to gently separate the knot. The terrorist was a perfectionist, but the mindset further stemmed past reaching twisted goals to create a world without flaws. Three spoons of jam in his tea, faint scratches on a deck of cards, and ensuring he had the satisfaction of reaching the ends of your hair with his fingertips were a few details he keenly paid mind to. 

You took his silence as a comply, and started to play out the tragedy of the Danish prince in your head while your lover brushed through your locks. Eventually, he picked his journal back up and continued to write information you paid no mind to.

…

You did not know how much time passed before you felt your eyes grow heavy. The faint ticks of the clock on the wall combined with the warm candlelight’s glow drew you to slumber. You closed Hamlet and shifted positions until you ended up straddling Fyodor. You buried your face in the crook of his neck until you could see nothing but dark. 

“Sonnyy?” 

He started stroking his fingers through your hair again, relaxing you even more. 

“Lublu tebya, kak angel boga, kak roso lyubit solovey. S toboy vremya ostanavlivaetsya, yi ya zhivu lish mgnoveniam ryadom s toboy.” 

However, the sounds of seconds passing by and intimate lighting adorning the room could not compare to the persuasion of your lover’s voice in his mother tongue. Foreign words spilled from his lips as rich as velvet, as soothing as a lullaby. If his voice, in general could put you in a trance, here he harbored the garden serpent’s master of temptation itself. Even if you did not understand him. Worst of all, he knew this. You had fallen into his trap long ago.

“Ya boudou skucha—what are you doing?” 

You were drowsily planting kisses on his neck. You stopped once the room became silent and looked up, catching his half-lidded amethyst gaze. The conjurer’s expression was for once softened—or perhaps it had been the entire time you were with him. It was a gift only you were blessed with. 

You smiled, a tad smugness in your look, before sitting up and giving him a shy peck on his lips. 

For a few seconds, you were both frosted in that moment of time—his hands wrapped around your waist, massaging circles onto your skin under your shirt as you straddled his own, your eyes fixated on his almost surprised, slightly flustered violet stare. The candles illuminated the room in such a way that made you think it was really only you two who existed in the world—your two souls someplace faraway where nothing else mattered but the sounds of your heartbeats and what you would do next after his mouth slightly parted. You were the most beautiful thing Fyodor had laid eyes on, throughout eras of people. 

You kissed him for the first time that night, and the ravenette kissed you back. It escalated to become sloppy—you were both too exhausted to care whether your lips were on his or if they instead trailed down to trace his jawline as sharp as those of the greek gods. Or when you were back on your lover’s neck—however, this time almost sucking, mesmerized by how easily you could bruise him. You did not need to wear lipstick to create deep red marks on Fyodor’s pale skin. 

“I told you that you’d end up being a distraction.” 

You shivered at cold fingertips dancing across your lower abdomen, though they were still quite far from anywhere you wished. You winced when Fyodor bounced you up in order to fix your position, but it offered a different effect. 

“Careful,” he warned. “That spot is visible to others.” 

Being the leader of the Rats in the House of the Dead and member of organization Decay of Angels placed the Russian at a high status in the underground world. He always restricted the places you could leave visible traces of affection on him whenever he had a new operation in front of him—Fyodor was one to uphold modesty. 

You sighed softly before disconnecting your mouth from his neck, only to unbutton the top half of his shirt. 

Like his hands, the demon’s heart was cold. He bore at least some sense of insensitivity to death—he had to; granting silence was part of his duty. However, something about you ignited a fire in him out of nothing, out of no help amidst ice—you were not given a flame nor torch to aid you.

If he was the one to destroy the world to pay the price of ridding sin, you were the one who rebuilt creation from the ground and up. You were unfazed by the city ruins; you were unfazed by Fyodor Dostoevsky, the man most feared in the world. A duality: to them, his hands soaked in crimson blood, but to you, they clasped around yours in adoration.

And since he’d met you, his heart was filled with the foreign warmth of love. Accompanied were trust, vulnerability, and your sweet, honey-like kisses that you littered all over his broad shoulders and chest, because he deserved love everywhere. 

He whispered against your ear, promising he would indulge you more another day, when you weren’t so sleepy. When both he and the moon had a little more time in the sky, was what he didn’t say. At the same time, he took a free hand to slowly guide your eyes to close, hovering barely above your eyelashes. 

You complied, with no more complaints, as he kissed you on the forehead. 

…

As Fyodor carried you down the hallway to the bedroom bridal-style about half an hour later, you dozed into dazy consciousness once again. 

“You have…another mission, hm?” you whispered, recalling the preceding hints he had given you. 

“Yes,” he quietly replied, walking into the dark bedroom. He tucked you under the covers before getting in right beside you. 

“Truly, why were you in the library?” you asked, getting out your final curiosity before you fell back to dream. 

“I did have a ‘sort-of’ job,” Fyodor replied. “Taking care of you. I was aware you’d show up.”  

“Please stay safe, Fedya.”

…

You knew something was off with the thunderstorm that came several weeks later. A vampire apocalypse—however fictitious that sounded—was happening back in Japan, but Fyodor kept you overseas at where you two stayed before departing. 

You didn’t ever touch his plans, but your mind finally processed how every event leading up until now seemed so wrong. The month-long stay—Fyodor had never done that before. The week you decided to read tragedies—you felt one even worse than those acted out in the theatre was coming. That night you stayed up—your gut was already screaming that he was about to depart again. 

And how this time would be different than before. Your intuition had warned you, yet you still fell asleep and let him leave. You stood before the journal the conjurer made sure caught your eye that night. With shaky hands and heavy rain beating down on the windows, you flipped through the pages. Confusion and tears formed in your eyes at the vague implication of what was written. 

Do not worry yourself with the death of all things that are seen and unseen by you. It is not an end, but the start of all things that are left to do. 

Rodnaya, you asked what I did not agree with concerning your thoughts about Hamlet loving Ophelia. Have you ever considered a man having both love and ideals at the forefront of his mind? Isn’t love a dream itself? 

…

Fyodor swore this when he judged how all could go wrong in the next step of his plan. Prior to meeting you, the calculating, confident smirk he always had on his face was authentic, and he simply assumed he would never fall to a mistake. 

But now the plans were adjusted to work around you; the schemes all ended to benefit you, too. If he misjudged something, not only would it fail the perfect world God deemed it to be, but it would also affect you through and through. 

Perhaps that was why he only almost saw you as an angel no matter how much you resembled one—no, you were far more glorious than one. You were human—so human that instead of looking down at him from above, you came down onto tainted soil and blessed him with a piece of heaven. Real empathy that now made him think of you as he sat with a rod pierced through his torso in the escape helicopter, doomed to death. 

You truly did ruin him. 

…

“Is there anything you find more powerful than manipulation?” 

And Sigma wondered how such a man so immoral and cruel actually loved someone else. As he searched through the demon's memories, he realized he must go much further back in time to find any helpful information for the brunette ability-nullifier who assigned him. 

Because if it was not anything relating to his plans that showed up through his search, it was every memory of you.

translations: (please pardon me if they’re bad, :’) correct me if you are fluent and would like to!)

dlya neye, v iskrennost : for her, in sincerity

sonnyy : sleepy

lublu tebya, kak angel boga, kak roso lyubit solovey. : i love you like an angel loves God, like a nightingale loves a dew.

s toboy vremya ostanavlivaetsya, yi ya zhivu lish mgnoveniam ryadom s toboy. : with you, time stops, and i live only for moments next to you.

ya boudou skucha[t po tebe] : i will miss you.

i heard if you rb, fyodor will come back to life. :’) reblogs are cherished; they are what support me the most. <3

someone should’ve warned me about hozier. only started listening to him last month and i…can’t stop.

© 2024 AUREATCHI. no reposts or translations. do not steal. support banner + gradient line by benkeibear. animated line by benkeibear. manga header mine.

[eiightysixbaby]

Okay, so, this is kind of embarrassing to type out but kind of a hot idea for a fic, too? Please delete if it makes you uncomfortable!

Last night I had a little *me time* with my vibrator and my little machine (it's like one of those things you put a dildo on and you can set the speed to whatever you want so it's like it's fucking you) and I was on my tummy and had the vibe pressed to my clit and I came soooo hard but I don't know who to imagine when I think about someone finding me like that, Eddie, Robin, or Jonathan. 🫣 Send help!

ooooomg. i mean like they would all short circuit if they witnessed that, let’s just get that out of the way. but like, i guess i can elaborate. 🤭 i chose to do robin for this one, let’s try something new!! also i made this maybe a little more cutesy flirty than downright hot, but i hope you like it 🥹

18+ only pleaseeeeee

You let out an audible sigh the second you sink down onto the silicone toy. It presses so deep, your body slowly adjusting to the intrusion.

Quite honestly, it had been a long day, and you were pent up and seeking release. With your period just around the corner, your hormones are spiking at an all-time high, and you really aren’t sure how you even survived your shift at work without combusting.

You click a button on your tiny little remote, controlling the contraption you’ve strapped the dildo to. It starts to slowly move, helping the toy undulate, mimicking the thrusts of another person. Your brows furrow, your head tipping back as you rock your hips to meet the slow and steady thrusts.

Inhaling sharply, you click on your vibrator, pressing the tip of it against your puffy clit. A moan rips its way out of you, the second toy making your pleasure even greater. You’re grateful you have your apartment to yourself, your roommate’s shift running late tonight, so you don’t have to stifle your sounds.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, tension building in the pit of your gut already, a coil ready to snap and it’s only been a couple of minutes. You work your vibrator in rhythmic circles on your sensitive bud, panting as you inch yourself closer to your first climax of the evening.

With a cry, you’re clenching around the pink dildo, zaps of pleasure coursing through your desperate body. You give yourself a moment to steady your breathing before you’re upping the speed on your little fuck toy, letting out a long, low groan as the dildo fucks you faster.

If you hadn’t been lost in bliss, you’d have heard the front door open. If there wasn’t a white-hot ringing in your ears, you’d have heard Robin call out for you. But you didn’t, and you hadn’t, and all too late your bedroom door is swinging open.

Robin’s never been great with the whole knocking thing.

Her bright blue eyes go wide, her jaw flopping open and closed like a fish out of water.

“Oh! I- uh- I’m so sorry, ohmygod—” she stammers, her face going bright red.

Your mouth falls into an ‘O’ shape, frozen at the shock of being caught. Robin’s eyes flit from your face to the toy that’s fucking you and back again, neither of you knowing what to say.

You feel your whole body heat, and for a split second the thought passes through your brain that you’re flustered because you want her to see you, not because you’re embarrassed that she did.

You don’t have the capacity to unpack that though, not when a seven-inch dildo is rocking into you and your vibrator is buzzing suddenly way too loud and Robin is now covering her eyes with her hand and awkwardly stumbling out of your room.

“Rob, wait!” you call, hurriedly shutting off your toys, slipping on an oversized sweatshirt and some underwear.

You find yourself worried — irrationally so, you can admit — that you’ll find Robin packing a bag to stay at Steve’s or something. Too traumatized to continue to live with you.

What you actually walk in on is Robin anxiously pacing the floor of her room, her face going that same shade of red when she notices you.

“I am sofuckingsorry, I did not mean to walk in on you and I also didn’t mean to stare for a second there but like, wow, that was a lot, and—”

“Rob, hey,” you interrupt, knowing she’ll ramble for god knows how long if you don’t settle her.

She stops her movements, chewing on her lip as she skittishly meets your eyes again.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve been more careful and like, locked my door or something. I thought you were working late, I did not intend for you to… see that..” you tell her, wringing your hands together. You feel feverish, that heat creeping back up your neck and flooding your face.

Because suddenly you want to ask her if she’ll touch you, if she’ll be the one to bring you to sweet release. Suddenly your stupid crush that you’ve been trying to tell yourself didn’t exist, is hitting you full-force like a freight train. Suddenly Robin is so strikingly beautiful — and she always has been — but it’s suffocating now.

“I- um,” she starts, her expression a little bit frantic as she picks her next words. “Are you… upset? That I saw you like that?”

The question shocks you, and you hesitate to answer for a moment.

“Was that so stupid to ask? I’m sorry, I am totally making this worse—”

“I wasn’t upset,” you cut her off. “I think I kind of… secretly hoped you’d walk in on me.”

Now it’s her turn to be speechless, and god, she looks so fucking cute when she doesn’t know what to say. Her eyes have gone so wide, and you can’t help but clock the way her gaze shifts to your mouth.

Maybe it’s not a big deal if you have a huge crush on your roommate, because maybe she has a crush on you, too. Maybe it’s always been this way, and you were just too stupid to see the signs.

You take a couple steps toward her, until you can feel the heat from her body radiating off of her. “Just tell me if this isn’t what you want, okay?” You ask, taking her face gently in your hands and bringing her to you, searching her eyes for approval before fully closing the distance.

She nods, a barely noticeable thing, and then you’re pressing your lips to hers. Your heart beats hard, and you wonder if hers is doing the same thing. The way she pulls away and has to literally catch her breath is confirmation that it is.

There’s a giddy type of silence, the kind that comes after new boundaries are crossed and there’s tangible tension in the air.

“Can I please touch you now?” she murmurs finally, sounding as if she’s been dying to ask that question for an eternity, if not longer. “Because watching you fuck yourself on that toy made me start sweating.”

You can’t help but giggle, and her expression lightens at your laughter.

“God, yes,” you reply. “You just edged me so hard walking in on me like that.”

She laughs, now, the nervous edge to her demeanor wearing off little by little. “Oh, poor thing,” she says, getting her footing in the situation. “I’ll have to take care of that.”

A little smirk plays on her pretty lips, and she kisses you again on the mouth before moving down to your jaw. Her hand reaches down to cup your heat through your thin underwear, and already you’re seeing stars.

She’s going to make sure you see the whole galaxy tonight.

[killerlookz]

hiiiii i adore your writing soooo sooo much!! i was literally dancing in my room to joosts music and i thought of a new fic idea:3 can you write something where Joost comes back home and the reader is dancing to his songs in their apartment, the reader doesnt notice him at first, completely in the moment and when they do, they get all embarrassed and its all fluff and cute??(((:

awww this is so cute <33 ty sm anon!!!

Dance With Me? | Joost Klein

content: gn! reader, no warnings rlly! just fluff :-) the song in question for this fic is Joost Klein 2 btw! this fic contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

word count: 1.2k(just a wee little blurb!)

Sundays had always been your least favorite day of the week, a bleak reminder that the hours of the weekend were waning and you'd have to return to the monotony of the weekdays. Perhaps the worst part of Sundays was that they were your designated cleaning day, you would much prefer spending your last day free from work lazing on the couch or curled up in bed, but instead, once again you found yourself bouncing around your apartment straightening up whatever cleaning you had left unfinished throughout the week.

The silence of your empty apartment had been getting to you, bored out of your mind as you stood on a chair to dust off a bookshelf. The only thing you figured that would this slightly more tolerable was music at least the apartment wouldn't be so damn quiet.

You hop down from the chair, scurrying into the living room to turn on your speakers. It wasn't long until music was flowing into the apartment, loud, and probably obnoxious to the neighbors, but it hadn't been late enough to warrant a noise complaint- so they would just have to deal with it for now.

Among the many plusses of having a musician for a boyfriend, you had to admit being in possession of a stellar stereo system was definitely one of them. You had been able to hear the music just as perfectly as you pranced back into your bedroom, not exactly eager to get back to cleaning.

Though it would seem not much cleaning would get done after that point, more focused on the music than any of the tasks you had at hand.

"Joost Klein maar m'n stack die is groot!" You sang along with the lyrics that boomed over the speaker. Another plus of having a musician boyfriend was that he was a damn good musician., "De regering zoekt mij, maar ze vinden me nooit!"

You had found yourself jumping around to the music, a smile pressed onto your face as you swayed your head back and forth in time to the beat.

Still jumping, your arms in the air you start to spin around when suddenly the breath is knocked out of you at the sight of a figure in the doorway to your bedroom. Your body grows rigid, stopping dead in your tracks as your mind races to the worst-case scenario.

Luckily it hadn't exactly been the worst-case scenario, as your eyes focused and you were able to see your boyfriend leaning against the doorframe, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Why'd you stop?" He asks, clearly amused, "I was enjoying your performance. I think you might put me out of a job."

"Joost!" Your voice is sharp like you're scolding him for being in his own home. Your eyes widen at the shock, not having expected him to be home, much less having even heard him walk through the door, "I thought you said you'd be running errands all day."

Embarrassment begins to grow on your face, your eyes refusing to meet Joost's, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as your body grows hot.

"I've actually been gone awhile," He chuckles, "I finished my errands."

"Hmm," You hum, looking down at your feet, "Time flies." You mumble.

"It does when you're having fun, which you looked to be having." Joost muses, an eyebrow-raising behind the thick rims of his glasses.

"Cleaning was getting boring," You shrug, still refusing to make eye contact out of sheer embarrassment.

Joost can clearly sense your unease as his smile still rests on his face, beginning to bob his head up and down, slowly walking towards you with some grove in his step,

"Maar ik blijf Joost en ik bleef in de derde zitten," Joost lowly sings along to his own voice over the speaker, his movements becoming livelier as he gets closer to you, "Soms haat ik kittens en haat ik ook science-fiction."

He grabs your hands, as to ask you to dance with him, but you're reluctant, only holding his hands in front of him as he dances on his own continuing to sing along to his own song.

"C'mon," He urges, "Dance with me?" An exaggerated pout rests on his lips as he stares down at you with big, blue, puppy-dog eyes. You can't exactly resist that look, slowly stepping back and forth to appease his request.

He pulls at your arms as he jumps up and down to the music, just about forcing you to move with more excitement, your embarrassment quickly subsiding as Joost dances in a manner similar to how you had been just moments prior.

"Joost Klein maar m'n stack die is groot!" Eventually, the two of you are singing, bouncing up and down in sync with each other and you can't believe you had ever been embarrassed in front of Joost in the first place. It had seemed so trivial now that the two of you danced together, after four years together you were sure you had seen each other in much more embarrassing situations, you knew better, that he would never pass any judgment on you, "De regering zoekt mij, maar ze vinden me nooit!" You practically yell to each other, oversized grins burned into both of your faces.

The song soon fades out, allowing for a song that wasn't Joost's to start playing.

"You've got some good music taste," Joost teases, the two of your movements dying down.

"Meh," You shrug, "Joost is kind of mid, I think Ski Aggu is better,"

Joost clicks his tongue, shaking his head in joking disapproval,

"You're lucky you're cute." A kiss is pressed against your forehead. The small gesture leaves you with butterflies in your stomach, despite the length of time the pair of you had been together, every touch from him seemed to feel like you were falling in love for the first time all over again.

"You get much cleaning done?" He pulls back

You look around the bedroom, the bed still unmade, clothes strewn upon your dresser, various items scattered around your desk. You feel yourself becoming stressed again at the task ahead of you.

"Not quite." You respond sheepishly, you sigh, "I should probably-"

"It can wait, relax, liefje," Joost cuts you off, "I think we should continue our little dance party."

"Easy for you to say when you've gotten everything you need to get done today,"

"Hmm," Joost puckers his lips, twisting his face into an expression that makes it obvious he's thinking, "How about..." He trails off for a moment, inching closer to you, "You stay here and dance with me, and I'll clean the whole apartment while you're at work tomorrow."

It's an easy proposition to accept, not having to clean? Fine by you.

"Deal?" He asks, smiling down at you.

"Deal," You quickly nod.

"Eh," he holds up a finger, "We need to seal the deal."

You raise your eyebrows up at him, waiting for what he's going to say next,

"You gotta give me a kiss to seal our deal,"

You giggle, standing up on your tip toes, placing both of your hands on Joost's shoulders as you reach up to press your lips to his.

He's quick to kiss you back, resting his hands on your waist as he engages you in a soft, passionate kiss.

"Okay," He nods, "Now it's a deal."

[icallhimjoey]

I feel like Joe's the type of guy during a heatwave to complain about the heat but still insist on cuddles. And I just imagine both parties being grumpy from the heat but also from not being able to just cuddle.

lil short one! sticky sweaty cuddles with a lil side of grump! Wordcount: 1.5K

---

That Better?

"Where do you think you're going?" you can barely make out the words Joe's mouth tries to shape. He's pressed up against your chest, his whole cheek stuck to your skin in a way that makes his lips go funny.

It's uncomfortable. Way too hot and sticky. Outside you can see another flash, and hear the sky rumble in the distance. No rain yet, though. Just humidity.

"Joe," you warn when he tightens his grip on you as you try to move away a little. "Please, it's too hot." You use both hands to find his shoulders to create some space in between the two of you.

It's difficult, because you're fatigued with the heat, and Joe is stronger than you.

"The fan's on." Joe argues, though it's dry and flat, no energy to put any heat behind his words. It's already hot enough.

He holds on, quite tightly at that, and you huff a breath into his face as you relax again. You're too weak. The room already feels stifling and heavy without a person stuck to you, but Joe's lying right on top, and you desperately need the fan to hit the areas of your body that he's covering with all of his right now.

But Joe doesn't want to move.

He's grumpy for it too, but he needs the cuddles to get to sleep, no matter how warm and sweaty and gross it feels.

Which, it does.

Everything feels damp.

It's silent for a while, until you can feel a drop of sweat make its way down your scalp, sliding through your hair slowly and then picking up speed when it gets to your neck.

It's disgusting.

"I'm not even moving and I can feel myself sweat." you complain, but Joe just hums. Adds, "Yea, it's sweltering." in agreement. He can feel you sweat too, but knows that it just means that the fan feels nicer for it. He doesn't add that bit of information - fan feels like a sensitive subject now. You had just had a big fight over whether or not to sleep with the floor fan on.

It wasn't exactly a silent one - the fan or the fight.

Joe desperately wishes for the fan to be moved out of the bedroom; it's a big floor fan that sounds like an airplane taking off, he'd always say. But you need it on. You'll take the loud constant whir that will bring you an actual breeze over suffering in a dead silent humid room that feels more like a sauna than anything else.

"Baby, you know I can't sleep with it on. It's too loud."

"Can't sleep with a fan on, but can fall asleep in the middle of The Expendables." you'd sarcastically said, making a face at him. The Expendables was basically a whole film of big loud explosions. He'd insisted on watching it the other day, and then fell asleep about 15 minutes into it.

"You know that's not-" Joe sighed with frustration. "That's hardly the same."

You could feel the sweat sit between your toes, it was that hot.

"Joe, without the fan on, I don't even want to touch my own body! Let alone yours!"

You fought, back and forth until you'd cut it off by going for a cold shower. When you got out, you found Joe in bed with all the lights off and the fan on, and you silently accepted Joe's kind compromise.

When you'd laid down on the bed, Joe had immediately rolled half onto you, and you knew that in return for the fan being on, he wanted to at least be able to fall asleep the way he wanted to. Needed to.

Touching.

All snuggled up.

Breathing your breath, limbs crossing limbs, bare skin pressing into bare skin. Feeling heartbeats and hearing heartbeats, until one of you can't feel their arm anymore from lying on a shoulder weird. Joe needs the comfort of a whole person to make a psychical connection with to feel instantly at ease.

It not his fault that you calm him down so much. That he loves you.

And you love Joe too.

But it's definitely too fucking hot for any of it. You feel too grumpy, and you know Joe isn't in the best mood either.

Joe might feel at ease, but you don't feel at ease at all.

You're still holding out hope that the clouds that had threatened rain all day will actually give way. The heat needs to break already. So far, no luck though. Just some flashes and some rumbling thunder up high in the sky.

You're not a fan.

You don't like thunder storms. There's something so very threatening about them. Every loud crash makes you jump a little, surprising you every single time.

Joe knows.

He remembers the first time he'd been around you during bad weather, and he had watched you from up close for a little while until something inside of him took over.

I, big giant man. You, small little defenseless woman. Must protect.

Cave man behaviour.

Cute when you're after a little babying, but absolutely awful when the heat and the humidity had you in an awful mood. Like right now.

Another flash lights up your bedroom for a split second, and you can hear how the storm's getting a little closer.

"I'm not scared, you know," you comment softly, and Joe just hums again. Acknowledges what you're telling him, but keeps you close for his own comfort. Doesn't seem to care if you're scared or not - just pretends that you are, because he likes that a little better.

He ducks into his shoulders a little more, curls up to you a little more, and you can feel how the side of his face slides against your chest.

Slides.

You try to hold back an audible wince at how much you hate that, and you endure Joe's weight for a little while longer. But then, slowly, the itch under your skin becomes too much and it builds until you feel like you're about to burst.

"I can't," you suddenly sputter, pushing at Joe's shoulders again. "Sorry babe, but I cannot." you say definitively, groaning as you move to sit up. This time, Joe lets you go.

When you see Joe's sad little face, half of you wants to reach out to wrap your whole self around him. But the other half wants you to go sit in the freezer.

Unfortunately for Joe, the latter wins.

"M'sorry, just..." you turn in the bed and find a piece of cold mattress to lie down on, your head near the foot of the bed now, your feet near your pillow. You get the best bit of air from the fan from there too, right in your face, and it feels a little better.

It really does help that you're damp all over.

Makes the air actually cool you down.

You suppose that's what sweat's meant to do in the first place, so it makes sense.

Joe watches you from his spot.

Watches as you starfish on top of the bed in the dark, hair blowing in the breeze, and Joe wants to frown, because this isn't what he wants. But then he sees how the creases on your face slowly disappear, and just witnessing you be a little more comfortable makes his own frown smooth out a bit too.

"That better?" Joe asks, and you're not sure if it's a sarcastic question or not. If saying yes will hurt his feelings or not. You detect a little hidden bite in there though, so you don't answer.

Instead, you sigh a little contently and say, "Come over here."

Joe doesn't need telling twice.

In an instant, his legs have swung around on the bed and he finds a nice much cooler spot next to you.

"Here," you say, and you hold out your hand.

Joe gives it a glance before looking at your face. He knows you've only just showered, but your hair's mostly dry already. He notices it now as it drapes over the edge of the bed, swaying in the wind. You may be sweaty, grumpy, sticky, and uncomfortable, but you're still gorgeous. It's almost annoying how he likes the way the heat makes you look.

"Hold my hand." you say when it takes too long for Joe to grab hold of it.

It's your compromise.

Joe smiles.

Takes it.

It's not as nice, but Joe will take it, fingers intertwining as your palms glue together.

"That better?" he asks again, and this time there's no doubt about his intentions, voice much sweeter and softer, no hidden bite left in there at all.

"Hmm." It's your turn to hum now, agreeing as you add, "Better."

Joe gets to touch you.

You get the fan on.

It's not the best of both worlds - it's still fucking boiling - but it's definitely better than before.

And then, just when you think, maybe you actually could fall asleep like this, you can hear the soft patter of a few raindrops hitting the bedroom window.

Just a few at first, but it quickly picks up into a gentle, rhythmic pattern as the sound grows.

You squeeze Joe's hand, and there's still a slight slick to your palms and fingers, kind of clammy, definitely warm.

But it's kind of nice to be stuck together like this.

Joe squeezes back, and you let a happy sigh escape you.

You can actually fall asleep like this.

"Much better."

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevitalifestyle, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959

@hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

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@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[fuckmycrane]

you should write a fic about neil cumming in his pants while eating pussy lol

— CW: 18+, smut! What the ask says. | Word count: 600+.

— a/n: Yeah I should. Anyways. I like answering requests lmao.

Neil’s short fingernails scrape the skin of your thighs, as he stares at your pussy with fascination. He licks his lips, darting his tongue slowly, savoring the godlike meal displayed wide open right in front of him.

“Are you gonna keep starin’ at my pussy or actually eat it?” You ask from the top of his bed, resting your head on the one pillow he owns.

Neil nods, licking a long, lazy stripe from your wet hole to your swollen nub, circling it with the tip of his tongue. His hand squeezed your thighs as if he was afraid you were going to magically disappear from his bed— all while his tongue was busy burying itself inside your pussy. Neil moans at the taste, loud and clear, completely delighted with your taste.

Your fingers brush his hair softly away from his forehead and his eyes— he’s like a dream. With bright eyes, Neil stares at you with his mouth attached to your clit, sucking it gently. The uncomfortable pressure of his hard cock against his boxers makes him mewl weakly against your core. The vibrations of his raspy voice make you grind your hips against his face.

Neil’s eyes roll back as you do so, enjoying how you never hesitate to use him to pursue your own pleasure. His head nods fiercely, wordlessly begging you to use his face as a toy to rub against.

You seem to pick up his silent request, chuckling softly as your free hand reaches for your chest, rolling a perky nipple with your thumb and index finger.

“You want me to rub my pussy on your face, pretty boy?” You ask breathlessly, moaning when Neil hums against your clit, sucking a bit more harshly.

Complying with eagerness, you yank his hair pressing his face against your cunt tighter. You rub his nose against your clit as he laps and practically slurps your wetness, sliding his tongue inside. Neil fucks you with his tongue with a skill that wasn't proper of the man from which you took his virginity.

His hips rut against the mattress as he leans forward to shake his head side to side with his tongue flat on your pussy, savoring it as if you were his last meal. The friction of the cotton duvet makes his cock throb, causing him to sweat and be more turned on than ever. Neil tongue-fucks you as if his life depended on it, whining all the while. It felt as though he was lost in heaven when your moans got louder and louder, your body praising his actions in its rawest form.

He is properly humping the mattress now, his face red and sweaty, suffocated by your heat— but not doing anything to stop it.

You come with a strained scream, biting your lips and closing your thighs to the best of your ability. Squeezing his head in between your legs— Neil could die happy right there.

While the aftershocks of your orgasm make your whole body jolt and shake, Neil lets out a choked, pathetic groan— his hips twitching and small thrusts faltering.

Panting, you raise your head from the pillow, looking at him with a frown. “Neil?” You ask panting, brushing some sweat away from your forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah— yeah, I'm—” He replies in between ragged breaths. He untangles from your legs slowly, standing up and covering his crotch with his hands. “I need to use the bathroom—”

“Neil,” you call him again, prompting yourself with your elbows. “Did you—” Your eyes lower to his crotch, noticing the wet stain he is trying to cover. “Shit— did you come from just eating my pussy?”

With a wild blush, your boyfriend looks to the floor embarrassed, nodding.

“Fuck, that's hot.”

The dumbfounded look in his eyes makes you laugh, a laugh that turns into a sensual purr.

“Come here, big boy… I wanna clean you up with my tongue.”

— a/n: I would say send requests because I'm drinking but anyways, just fuck me.

[trashmouth-richie]

𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚜?

summary: just a summer day with your best friend, his girlfriend and his best friend.

A/n: I think I’ve written shy and awkward Eddie one other time but I just love him. He’s a little shy in this but the other chapters he’ll be very awkward

Eddie x fem! Reader, best friend! Gareth

18+ fluff, sweet + shy Eddie.

part 1/?

pt. 2: my ties are severed clean

pt. 3: so I turn back the time

“C’mon princess, the water isn’t that cold.”

“Wanna play mermaids?”

—

The van skid to a stop in the parking lot of Benny’s. Clouds of dust circling in its wake. Loud, mind splitting music blaring from the speakers, turning heads in the diner to glare out the filthy fog stained windows to see who would cause such a ruckus on this beautiful Sunday afternoon in the cozy sleepy town of Hawkins. 

  Your bestfriend since kindergarten, had called you earlier today, begging you to go to the pool with him and a friend.

  “Aren’t we a little old for that?” You protested, balancing the corded phone between your ear and shoulder as you tie the pink apron strings around your waist, “besides Gare, I gotta work today.” 

  Even though his pleads and promises to make it worth your while peaked your interest, you still turned him down. Rent was due in the next week and you were short. 

  So you went to work, waiting tables and slinging pieces of cherry pie to the cheerful families after Sunday service. A smug hint of regret on your customer service smile. 

  It was 91° outside, making the diner feel like a special secret layer of hell that only existed in Hawkins. The itchy starch of your uniform clung to your skin and, sweat pooled down your back and made your hair limp. You took orders while fanning yourself with a menu. 

  Rubbing a sweaty glass of tea on your neck to cool yourself down, you had already replaced your usual bubblegum with ice cubes, melting too quick on your tongue to make it worth it. 

  By 2 o’clock you were tired and uncomfortable from being hot and sweaty. A combination mixed with irritation as one of your regulars yelled at you for forgetting ketchup. And when you slammed down a bottle on his table and cracked a half wit here you are, the bell above the front door dinged to alert you another no tipping customer came in for their dinner. 

  You stretch your lower back with both hands on your hips slightly, you call out behind the faded white swinging doors welcoming whoever to Benny’s and that you’d be right with them. 

  Straightening your hair and grabbing a few menus and napkin rolled silverware, you hear a familiar voice. 

  Not knowing him on a personal level, just from afar. Always with Gareth and the boys, the lead singer of their Hawkins famous band. The long curly haired, mysterious, Eddie Munson stood at the door. 

  He was leaning against the door frame, an unbuttoned flannel flapping gently with the oscillating steel blades of the old fan. The prettiest grin stretching his face into a sweet smile. 

  You didn’t have time to address him before his face turned into a makeshift look of worry. Big doe eyes glistening with eyebrows pulled upward into that mess of curls 

  It’s Gareth, there’s been an accident. 

  Without thinking, you throw the menus down on the nearest shelf and run to tell Benny you have to leave. Grabbing your purse and keys. 

  Gareth was always fucking around, taking his skateboard behind Jeff’s car, lighting fireworks off in the barrels behind the mall— it could be anything. 

  The tears are still fresh in your eyes when the seatbelt clicks into place, followed by a pair of warm hands covering your eyes, the faint familiar smell of camel cigarettes and chips. 

  Eddie speeds off from the parking lot and you gasp and turn around to hear the giggling boyish laugh of none other than Gareth. 

  Sitting smug with a cigarette tucked between his lips, his girlfriend Molly sitting next to him, a small smile on her thin lips. 

  After punching your friend and listening to the two rowdy boys laugh loud at your tears you explain through a pout that you don’t even have a suit. 

  Of course the shared 5 brain cells left between them already had that covered. 

  So here you were, ass pinched in the plastic chairs at the Hawkins Community Pool. The mothers of young children flocked to their reserved seats positioned carefully beside the wooden lifeguard perch. Eager for the brainless attention and smug mustache grin from the mullet wearing asshole that was Billy Hargrove. 

  When arriving to the pool, Eddie and Gareth tore off their shirts and shoes, both wearing cut off jeans into the cool water. Diving into the deep end despite the whistles from the sour faced lifeguards that forbade them from running. 

Heels over head back-flips, cannonballs that sprayed the sidewalk, Olympic style dives from the high dive, throwing kids in the pool who came back for

more—they hadn’t stopped since getting here. Eddie’s soft brown curls hung wet—almost straight down his back and floated in the cool water as he climbed the steps up from the deep end.

  Molly rubs another layer of baby oil on her legs and lets out a big sigh, her tortoise shell sunglasses sitting perched on her button nose. “It was Eddie’s idea, believe it or not.” 

  “What was?” You question, trying to adjust the skimpy borrowed red string bikini around your boobs. 

  “Picking you up,” she answers, a smirk in her lips, “he’s been begging Gareth all summer to give him the okay to ask you out.” 

  Eddie Munson? 

  “Nah uh..” 

  There was no way. 

  “Swear on the Bible, babe,” Molly grins, and she flicks the lighter against her pall mall. 

  “Gareth told me he was dating that girl who works at the Hideout, the one with the big tits?” 

  She rolls her eyes, “Gareth just didn't want his best friend dating his other best friend, he wouldn’t be able to choose sides if you guys broke up.” 

  “I barely even know him,” you say slowly, suddenly feeling a swarm of butterflies tickle your tummy, “he was older than us in school and I wasn’t in Hellfire.” 

  Flashes of your high school years blur before you, when he wasn’t making an ass of himself in the lunch room, Eddie was quiet, small laughs with his friends and completely enamored by D&D. 

  “Well according to Gareth, he’s been wanting your number for years, but was too shy to ask.” 

  You caught his eye a few times since getting to the pool. A shy glance here or there, dark eyes peeking over from the crest of the water to check if you had seen his cool trick from the high dive. 

  Eddie Munson had a crush on you. 

  “Babe!” Gareth calls from the side of the pool, his mop of scraggly curls dripping, “get in the water with us.”

  Molly pushes her sunglasses into her thick blonde hair, “absolutely not, I didn’t come here to play.” you both giggle at him as he pouts and you almost jump out of your skin when Eddie looks directly at you.

  “What about you?” he asks, splashing a handful of water up at you, the droplets hit you like lightning. 

  A small squeal leaves your lips as you wipe the water off your warm tanning skin, “fuck! that’s freezing!” 

  “Oh c’mon princess,” he purred, ignoring Gareth’s eye roll and wiping a hand down his slightly sunburnt face, “the water isn’t that cold.” 

  His smile warms your insides and sends an ache to your core. Lowering your chair you lay flat on your back, tossing a middle finger to the two boys floating in the deep end, a small victorious smile on your lips as the sun shines on your face.

  You didn’t remember ever seeing Eddie with a girlfriend, and from the lies Gareth told you about him being a ladies man, you figured maybe he just didn’t date.

  A shadow is casted against your stomach and face and you peek open one eye to see Eddie standing before you, dripping chlorine water down his tattooed chest. His cutoff black jeans hanging heavy on his hips, the black boxer briefs sitting dangerously low on his hip dips. His large hands thread through his hair wringing out the dark curls onto the concrete.

  Your thighs clench at the sight and your breath hitches in your throat.

  “Don’t make me pick you up and toss you in, sweetheart.” he says all too smooth, shaking his head like a dog. A toothy grin plastered on his ridiculously good looking face. 

  You put a foot onto his wet chest, stopping him in his tracks and wiggling your painted toes against his tattooed skin, “you wouldn’t dare.” 

  And what is meant to stop him only drives his want further. Before you can figure out what is happening, Eddie has you scooped up in his arms and is tickling your sides. 

  “No no no! Eddie, please!” 

  Your kicking and giggling falls on deaf ears as his cold wet skin seeps into your swimsuit, the ends of his hair bead water onto your chest as you cling to his neck. 

  Standing on the edge of the pool, his back facing the water, the browns of his eyes lighten in the sun, and his eyelashes kiss together as he squints. 

  He licks his lips, and you see the flash of what looks like a small metal ball on his tongue, “d’you trust me?” 

  Scrunching your nose you close your eyes and nod, you hear a laugh erupt from his chest as he falls back into the water with you. 

  The water was freezing. And Eddie’s hair covered your face like silky seaweed. Opening your eyes under the water, you see Eddie smiling at you, bubbles encasing him. He grabs your hand and you both break the surface of the water. 

  “Eddie, you jackass!” Molly yells from her chair as Gareth takes comfort in your chair next to hers, “you could have hurt her.” 

  “She’s in good hands,” Eddie yells, his eyes never leaving yours as he treads water in front of you. 

  You blush under his stare, the butterflies taking over and fluttering wildly, you feel like a teenager.

   And you’re almost embarrassed when you blurt out, “wanna play mermaids?” 

  And more surprised when Eddie only laughs and says, “teach me?”

  Your sides hurt from laughing, legs ached from playing like kids with Eddie. Just when you’d think he would want to stop and sit out, he’d come up with another game.  

  Sharks and minnows: he volunteered to be the shark each time just to be able to chase you around the pool. 

You had repeated diving contests off the high dive: where he waited for you in the water raising up his fingers in numbers to every single dive you performed as if he was a judge at an event, his smile wide and cheery. 

  He laughed at the way you asked him to do George Washington style hair dos, but dunked his head into the water to proudly show his new hairstyle, trying not to melt at your little giggle and the feel of your fingers in his hair, pushing his bangs back into submission. 

  When the pool was nearly empty and a sunburnt Molly and Gareth took the van to go get Aloe Vera before Melvald’s closed, Eddie closed you in around the edge of the shallow water during a game of Marco Polo. 

  His voice low and velvety when he answered. Your eyes pinched shut as you reached for him and he closed his fingers between yours. 

  “Got ya,” you whisper, opening your eyes and seeing Eddie staring down into your face. Small freckles dot his nose and upper cheeks from the day in the sun, “you lose.” 

  Eddie’s playfulness is gone, he’s all serious behind the depth of his coal eyes, “you sure about that, babe?” 

  “Is that a thing of yours? Pet names for all the girls?” you tease. 

  His eyes soften and his thumb traces your chin, “and if it was?” 

  The sun is behind his head like a halo, and god he looks like a fallen angel. 

  Your tongue darts out to wet your lower lip, the astringent taste of chlorine bitter on your tongue.  Eddie’s eyes follow, and you see the silver jewelry again in his mouth when he repeats your actions. 

  The thought of that steel ball hugging and sweeping against your lips make you shiver. 

  Before you can answer him, all the lifeguards blow their whistles and announce the pool is closing. 

  But Eddie doesn’t budge and neither do you. His thumb sweeps against your cheek and you buckle under his touch. 

  “Hey assholes!” A loud booming voice full of too much testosterone and choked balls from the worlds tightest swim trunks echoes across the concrete pool, “we’re closed, get the fuck out!” 

  Eddie rolls his eyes up at the mullet wearing douche, and plants his hands on the edge of the pool, jumping out. Water splashes around his feet as he extends a grin and a large hand down to you, “c’mon princess, i’ll walk you home.” 

[ilys00ga]

BABY, I CARE FOR YOU.

➞ pair: yoongi x f reader

➞ genre: sickfic, best friends to potential lovers (who knows?), fluffy fluff, yoongi being the best bff you could ever ask for, I miss him so much.

➞ synopsis: where the reader is sick and her bff is always there for the rescue.

➞ warnings: none.

➞ A/N: another request by @parkjennykim, who used 'she/her' pronouns in the req so I used those accordingly. This was fun to write. I hope you enjoy it :)

PS. readers, remember my reqs are still open for now. you can go ahead and send some (read pinned post if u haven't yet, tho).

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

the bag you've been carrying all day slipped off of your shoulder as soon as you pushed the door to your apartment open and stepped in. not bothering to pick it up, you remove your shoes and leave them somewhere near the entrance and take a deep breath through the nose.

your body was having a party that day. muscles and head aching like crazy, throat bleeding as it burned with a ticklish feeling that lingered for hours and bringing out coughing fits from your chest every few minutes, legs barely holding you up and an annoyingly runny nose, you're sure the skin around it is red and raw from how you've been rubbing at it with tissues all day. not to forget the fact that you were freezing to death even though the heaters were doing their work in the flat more than enough.

“Mom is finally home!” A loud squeal came rushing from down the hall. You raised your head with some difficulty to see your best friend approaching you with your cat, Leo, in his arms and a wide smile adorning his face. He stopped in his tracks and frowned, however, as soon as he noticed your scowling expression and bloodshot eyes.

“Woah, you look so not happy right now.” he commented.

“What are you doing here, Yoongi?” Though your expression softened as you spoke, your voice still held a wince the more uncomfortable the light bulb became to your squinted eyes.

“You didn’t answer my calls or even texts, so I just decided to come over myself.” he explained, then eyed you up with knitted brows and a barely noticeable pout on his cherry red lips, “are you okay?”

“My head and body are killing me. I’m going to sleep. You can stay as much as you like, just feed Leo before you leave, plea-." A couple of sneezes cut your sentence off. The action stabbed daggers into your already throbbing brain; so painful that your eyes teared up and you squeezed your hands around your skull to try and control the waves of shock that hit you all of a sudden.

“Wait,” Yoongi put Leo on the floor and walked towards you. the back of his hand felt like a soft, warm blanket wrapped up around your body on a cold, snowy night as it rested on your forehead, so you closed your eyes and hummed in satisfaction.

“You’re so hot.” he grimaced at the heat that bit his skin, and when he noticed how you smirked mischievously with your eyes still closed shut, he whined, “don’t!”

“I’m not doing anything!” Your tongue felt numb as you blinked your eyes open and smiled at him.

“Come, you need to take a warm bath and eat something.” his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, slowly pulling towards the bathroom.

"Your hands are always warm. I like that a lot." you whispered, absent-mindedly eying the way he was soothingly caressing the skin under his thumb.

“Are you going to bathe me?” his cheeks warmed up at the question you blurted so suddenly, but the way you were slurring your words implied that none of the things you were rambling about were intentional. the fever really took its toll on your brain.

“Go do your thing, and I'm going to make you something warm to eat.” he bit his lower lip and pointed towards the bathroom, leaving to start doing his task in the kitchen.

"The walls are spinning around me!" You whimpered as soon as you entered your room, wet hair wrapped up in a towel, a fluffy, warm hoodie swallowing your torso and a pair of sweatpants. Yoongi, who was sitting on your bed, immediately fixed his gaze on you with a small smile. you could spot your favorite pair of socks laying beside him on the bed sheets, and your heart skipped a beat or two at how thoughtful that small gesture alone was.

"I'm sorry. let me just blow dry your hair, and then you can eat." he apologized, pointing at the hair dryer he'd been holding in his hand and patting the empty spot next to him.

"You're spoiling me today." You complained, but still obediently sat besides your sweet friend.

"You're sick, I'm taking care of you." he replied matter-of-factly.

you murmured a small 'thank you' before he gently started taking the wet towel off your head, then started carefully drying your hair.

When you stepped into the kitchen, you found Yoongi setting plates, along with utensils on the small table located by the wall. his eyes landed on you as soon as your painful-sounding coughs announced your arrival.

“Feeling any better?” his brows rose worriedly, and his gaze followed your hunched up body as it walked and took a seat.

“kind of. thanks for the food.” You offered a genuine smile despite all the tiredness washing over your limbs. he nodded knowingly.

“Here, take these when you finish eating.” He put a tablet right next to your bowl and sat across from you, digging into his own plate as well.

After a while, you decided to break the comfortable silence when your eyes fell upon the clock hanging just above the door frame, “You have work tomorrow, and it’s getting late. you should probably go.”

“I know you’re a jackass and you’d sleep on an empty stomach if you wanted to, even when you’re sick.” he muttered so casually it almost made you giggle if it weren't for the guilt of forcing him to stay taking over your mind.

“That’s not right!” You started to argue but hissed when your head reminded you that it still got a tornado going on inside of it as it throbbed even harder.

“Stop talking and eat!” he scolded, and you wordlessly complied.

"I'm not leaving until you're tucked into bed and fast asleep," he added in a stern tone after a small pause, making you grin weakly and stuff your face with another spoonful of soup.

"Are you feeling any better?" Once again, yoongi asked after pulling the duvet over your chin. he chose to sit right by your side, on the floor and with his back facing you.

you replied with a muffled hum, barely audible as you were busy gratefully enjoying the softness of your comforter with closed eyes. it felt as though it had some kind of magic that absorbed all the aching tension in your body, allowing you to finally heave a sigh in relief after such a long, tiring day.

"Where's Leo?" you asked.

"probably napping somewhere after his meal."

"You fed him?"

"Of course I did. I'm not like you, forgetting my cat as soon as I get sick." he smirked teasingly.

"I didn't! I knew you were gonna stay, and I trusted you, like I always do." Your voice was only getting weaker and weaker, sleepy as you fought a battle against sleep just to answer your cheeky best friend.

Yoongi only smiled, glancing at you with tinted cheeks. he allowed his gaze to linger just a tad bit more on your closed eyes, nose poking out above the fuzzy blanket and shoulders ever so faintly shivering as the fever still clung onto you. he found the sight so endearing, he chuckled quietly and sighed, "Good to know you do."

"'m so 'ired." You slurred.

"Sleep, darling. I'm right here." was the last thing you heard him say ever so gently before surrendering your powers and drifting into a deep slumber.

Yoongi kept observing as you slept for a while before standing up. He bent down to press one soft kiss on your cheek and another one on your forehead, then walked out of the room with extra efforts not to make any noise and disturb your peaceful night when it had just started.

"Mom is sleeping. Let's hang out in the living room, hmm?" He picked up the fluffy cat that came running towards him as soon as he saw the door opening and kissed his head. heading towards the living room with a small smile on his face.

[newkatzkafe2023]

@lara-legomonkiekid

So What If the Monkey king is a slight yandere and he meets monkey Y/N at a party.

Just Dance🕺💃

(LMK Wukong) Mk and the gang had dragged him to a party. Wukong was nervous sense crowds are not his thing so he just stood by the snack bar eating some chips. When he noticed something very shiny, Wukong walked to the dance floor and saw you. Wukong was at a daze as he watched you dance infront of the crowd, As he watched you in your sparkling see-though dress. Wukong's jaw dropped as his eyes turned into hearts at you. that's when you finally noticed him and started dancing towards him Wukong eyes remaind on you and soon he walked towards you as you danced and soon he reached out for you, then You both got close to each other as you head butt his face ever so sweetly. Hello peaches you cooed at him and it was love at first sight for Wukong😍🥰.

(MKR Wukong) As I said before he tends to hate parties, and how stuffy and crowded it can quickly get its so annoying. Then he saw something, or should I say someone beautiful you were swaying to the beat enjoying the calm atmosphere. Wukong had found himself secretly staring at you no longer bored and slowly wondered off from the Monk. You didn't notice him quite yet as you were lose in the music until you smelled blood and peaches and looked over to see him, Wukong had froze as you looked at him. You started to giggle and danced towards him and Wukong freaked out with a blush and started purring for some reason, then like that Wukong found himself slow dancing with you all night long😌.

(HIB Wukong) It was a music festival he was made to go to by Pigsy, Luier and Silly girl man this was not his seen at all. Wukong was heavily uncomfortable with everything that's going on around him, but that's when he saw you dancing across from him. Wukong mind was blown and had a flash blush because you were super beautiful and were currently struggling on not looking at your hips. You then noticed him and strutted over to him, and now you were flirting with him now, Wukong was now stuck between a rock and a soft place that is you. You cooed over him, wanting to get to know him better as you danced a bit, Wukong was at a loss for what to do, but at least he knows your interested in him too🫠.

(NR Wukong) His Eyes were laser focused on you that's for sure, you were shaking our hips and dancing to the loud music. Wukong was drooling and purring as he had hearts in his eyes at your hips along to the music, just moving along carefree on the dance floor he just had to have you. Wukong came over to you with a drink offering it to you and with a smile you lead him to a both so you both can bond so to speak. It totally doesn't mean your making out with him in a barely lit booth room with you or something like that😏😉

(Netflix Wukong) He was blushing heavily and looked mad nervous on the outside for the first time ever. He has been mildly stalking you for a few days after developing a crush on you when he saw you at a hot springs, and tonight he found you dancing provocatively in front of a crowd of people. While Wukong was trying to figure out a way to talk to you, he looked up and saw you weren't there anymore confusing him greatly. Until he felt a delicate hand on his shoulders and that when he saw you, you were purring and coeing at him asking if your gonna get his name. Wukong sucked it up by giving you his name and Bragging about himself to fight off the nerves and impress you in the process but soon you have him sitting on some booth as you leave lipstick kisses on his face. Well, Is judging by the outcome he was clearly doing something right🥴

(BMW Wukong) He was giving bedroom eyes as you danced all by yourself on the dance floor, you clearly had to be teasing him while dancing. Wukong purred and decided to play along to your little game planning on with the game and you all at the same time. Wukong wasted no time call calling you and chirping, as he chased you across the party and you disappeared into the back, turns out you noticed him and wanted him to follow you for some quality time, which worked because you both spent the whole night together. Wukong knows what he wants and what his interests are, and you must want something similar if you gave him this much attention the whole night you were together.

(Destined one) His nose is bleeding so much the second he saw you at the village festival, also how did he find himself in this situation like one moment he was just trying to get though. The next moment he is being sat on by the woman he may or may have not been stalking for the last month or two AKA you, you had came up to him flirting And complimenting him on his supposedly cute face. At that the Destined one didn't know what to do because he honestly didn't think he would get this far, and for you to speed up the process with your mutual interest makes his medium size hit spin.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG💋