#yes he was scared of himself for about a year and a half

[adoptable-fanfic-prompts]

Mystery Skulls Animated x Danny Phantom

What if Arthur’s mom was Jazz Fenton? And the reason he’s living with his Uncle Lance is because there was a portal accident that caused it to explode (leaving only Arther alive but making him more like his Uncle Danny). But unlike Danny, the only person who knows about Arthur being half-ghost now is his Uncle Lance.

So when he meets Vivi, Lewis, and Mystery, they usually go after people of Scooby-Doo threat levels. And if there is a ghost, Arthur usually sneaks off to take care of it while doing his best to steer his friends away from it (note he is still terrified of ghosts but he figures he’s better equipped to handle it so reluctantly does so).

Rest is up to anyone who wants to write it.

[anarkhebringer]

There's a wild part of my mind that just knows deep inside that if Zenos were in Stardew Valley, somehow Elliott would woo him despite him not being a fighter at all. They both talk like Shakespeare and grew up as literature lovers.

Zenos would talk about the thrill of one's life being on the line and the urge to rip in and drink deep of the enemy's essence after going to the mines, and Elliott would just reply with "terrifying, hun, I love you."

[radiance1]

When the Justice League heard of Phantom, they believed they had to act quickly. Based on what they were told by the GIW, a branch of the government they had no knowledge of previously (Batman is working to correct that), the ghost was dangerous and extremely powerful.

A ghost that terrorized a small town that they GIW have tried-and failed- on numerous occasions to send back to the Ghost Zone. The GIW wouldn't have come to the Justice League for help if it were just that, but based on what they have claimed Phantom has achieved an inexplicable rise in power after having met with the King of ghosts himself.

If what they say is true, then ghosts could potentially invade and cause an all-out war with humanity that the Justice League would rather much avoid thank you.

Negotiations for peace or understanding have been repeatedly rejected and the GIW has been led to believe that Phantom has done something to the Fenton couple. The leading ecto-biologists in the world, years of research suddenly wiped clean off and acting much more cordial towards the ghost.

A complete 180.

So much so that you could even claim them to have been mind controlled. Which isn't outside the realm of possibility due to ghosts having an innate ability to overshadow others and control them.

Perhaps even the entire town has fallen under Phantom's control. Even another ghost, who had just been recently opposed to Phantom, has fallen under his control.

So the Justice League had to act fast.

---

Danny was fucked.

He could tell that very, very well. He still didn't have his entire new... dragon thing... under control very well, mostly sticking a half human like form. His powers were stronger yes but he couldn't really control them well.

Which is kinda why he's fucked.

Danny has never heard about the Justice League before, mostly because he had recently found out that apparently Amity Park was isolated. Like, extremely. Basically it's own little world cut off from the rest.

So when they appeared with the GIW he thought, hey, maybe they were finally changing their white suit shtick.

He didn't expect them to be extremely well-trained, have supernatural abilities or magic. Along with their usual tech well.

Yea.

Danny was fucked.

And he was very, very scared.

He's already died once but that didn't mean he wanted to die again, and he knows that he would probably be heavily experimented on if the GIW actually got their hands on him.

He was alone. He was surrounded. He was outnumbered. And he was oh, so very scared.

His family and friends had already fallen (thankfully not dead, just unconscious he thinks) and Vlad was occupied elsewhere, also fighting.

So Danny was alone.

No one would be coming to help him.

So what did he do?

He opened his mouth and did something he didn't do often. Despite that he could see that they somewhat recognized what he was about to do and tried to find cover.

Danny wasn't aiming at them.

He pulled his head back, mouth aimed at the sky.

Danny wailed.

It was waaaay more powerful than he had originally thought, so he was glad he aimed it at the sky.

As soon as it was over he felt drained, swaying on his feet and trying to use his tail to steady himself and not fall off his own claws.

They didn't know what was happening.

Danny just hoped it worked.

---

Neither the Justice League nor the GIW knew why Phantom shot one of his most powerful attacks up into the sky, but they did see the opportunity it presented.

Phantom was weak. Looking like he would fall off his own feet and fall unconscious.

They had to act quickly.

But before they could, from right where Phantom had wailed into the sky.

It cracked.

And continued to crack.

Until a large hole appeared in the sky, leading into a dimension of endless green.

The Infinite Realms.

They believed Phantom was trying to retreat.

They were wrong.

Two roars came from the portal, forcing everyone to cover their ears.

Then.

Something came out of the portal.

A long, serpentine dragon flowed out, flying around the area of the crack before descending down and around Phantom.

Then.

A giant claw grabbed onto the edge of the crack. Pushing against it until it broke, forcing the hole bigger and bigger as a much, much larger dragon stepped out. Standing protectively over the serpentine dragon and Phantom.

A large crown wrapped in flame floating about its head signified its status.

The Ghost King.

[lemmesayimyourbiggestfan]

Say my name again

Hwang In-ho x reader

word count: 2k

warnings: blood, gore, violence… if u watched SG, you’ll be fine

as always, requests are open!

You’ve been watching him for some time now. Paying attention to the way his mouth moved when he talked to his teammates, following his gaze wherever he looked. After the second game, you overheard him introducing himself. Young-il. What a coincidence he looked like the police officer that visited your flat so many years ago. The name was what made you suspicious - you could have sworn the police officer introduced himself to you as Hwang In-ho. And it’s not as if you could’ve gotten those mixed up; you two spent many restless days trying to find the ones who were behind the robbery of your home. But, you smiled with some bitterness on your tongue, the outcome was obvious based on your situation.

You knew you were the only one watching him so closely. One of your teammates even joked about it, saying you were mesmerised by that man. But he just made you nervous - his presence planting a bug in your brain. Was he a spy for the government? Or was he just as miserable as the rest of you?

With another unsuccessful vote behind you, you could finally rest and get off of your adrenaline high by leaning against the railing of your bunk bed while nibbling on some bread. You took off your bloodied shoes that always made you nauseous just by looking at them and while doing some breathing exercises your eyes of their own volition found that familiar face in the moving crowd. Of course he is still playing, you thought. He was a cop, no matter what. You watched him give his own share of milk to the pregnant girl. Did he do it out of kindness or to manipulate those people?

“Seriously, Y/N, you must have a problem. What is wrong with you? Staring like that at that poor guy- he might get the wrong idea.” One of your teammates said to you, sitting next to you on the bed.

“Don’t worry so much. I’m just watching and that’s harmless on its own.”

“On its own, yes. But what you’re doing is more than that.”

You raised your brow in annoyance and curiosity and moved your eyes to her.

“And what is it that I’m doing?” You pursed your lips.

“Stalking, mildly put.” She grimaced at your look, sensing how close to irritated you were becoming.

“Stalking? Such a nonsense, Se-mi.”

“Well, whatever. Just be careful so he doesn’t notice or in the next game you might have even more trouble staying alive.”

“Yeah? Is that because you’re so done with me you’re gonna finish me off tomorrow?”

Both of you were grinning then.

“In your dreams, Y/N.”

***

The platform beneath you jerked to life but all your eyes could see were the puddles of blood everywhere. Your shoes were already drenched in it, the palms of your hands covered by it. You slipped on the blood so many times that your clothes were already camouflaged.

“Today I die,” you breathed out, ragged and scared. You knew you were right.

The music echoed in your head even as it quieted and the platform stopped. But you still couldn’t look away from all the blood, not caring anymore about the people around you.

“Two.” said the woman’s voice and panic began. You finally lifted your gaze, searching for Se-mi or anyone familiar but no one was around. People were screaming, dragging each other down, pushing, always pushing. And you just stood there, awaiting your unavoidable end.

“Come on!” There, a body appeared, and someone crashed into you with such force it was hard to stay on your feet. Hands grabbed your waist and with unbelievable strength half pushed you half carried you to the nearest unoccupied room. Only when your body connected with the floor and the doors locked behind you did you look up at the person who saved you.

“Tell me what you want from me.” Young-il or In-ho said, blocking the exit with his body, freezing you in place with those piercing eyes. So he has noticed, you thought, finding it hard to swallow, let alone speak.

“I know who you are.” you croaked and In-ho said nothing, but his laugh lines grew heavier.

“Do you?“ he asked after a while, his eyes sparkling. Was this just a game for him?

“Why didn’t you tell them your real name, In-ho?”

“What made you think you could talk to me like that?” You shivered at his words but your face remained impassable. Somehow, you weren’t scared of him, no. Just… curious.

“Same question.”

“You think I don’t remember you, right? But you’re wrong. The moment I noticed you here I knew exactly who you were, Y/ N.” It was hard to pretend that those words meant nothing to you.

“At least I don’t hide behind a different name.”

“It’s a precaution. Some of these people are criminals and if they recognised my name they wouldn’t be as happy as you to see me here, understood?”

Your cheeks reddened but that didn’t stop you from holding your ground. His gaze made you nervous and you started biting your lower lip.

“Would you stop doing that?” In-ho asked and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re not the only one watching, Y/N.” he gave you a tentative smile.

Before you could say anything, the doors clicked and In-ho extended his hand to you as an offering.

“I can keep a secret… Can you?” A corner of his mouth curled up slightly and in answer you accepted his hand.

***

After you walked out of the room, the two of you didn’t speak until later that day in the dormitory. It was as if your roles switched - the whole day you felt his gaze following you wherever you went. It was driving you insane.

Thankfully In-ho approached you on his own, holding you by your elbow and gently leading you to a tranquil corner of the room.

“Stop staring at me to distract me!” you whisper shouted at him.

“Oh, I’m not staring at you to distract you.”

Again, the blush creeped into your cheeks. Flustered and ashamed, you looked away and bit your lip.

“I shouldn’t be here, you know.” he went on. His eyes were flickering from side to side, probably trying to see if anyone paid any attention to you.

“Well, I can keep a secret, can’t I?” you looked up at him from beneath your lashes, a spark in your eyes. A smile crept on his face but quickly disappeared.

“As soon as the lights go out today, the other team is going to attack us so they have more people voting tomorrow for the games to continue. You hide under the bed and be quiet, you understand?”

“Is this a trap?” you asked and stepped away, your hands starting to shake.

“Do as I say.” And that was that. With it, he meant to turn away, but you gripped his wrist.

“In-ho-“

“Would you stop doing that?” he retorted and moved his hand so it was him holding you. His knuckles were all white but he wasn’t hurting you.

“Doing what exactly, In-ho-“ before you could finish the sentence, the palm of his hand covered your mouth. Your nostrils were met with a musky and tangy smell.

“Don’t test me.” He let go of you and stepped aside. As he turned to go, he spoke over his shoulder: “When the lights turn off, come and find me. I’ll keep you safe.”

And somehow, no matter how dangerous this place was, knowing that you cannot trust anyone here, you trusted him.

***

“Light out in five minutes.” The woman’s voice resonated in the dormitory while everyone climbed into their beds. You sat at the edge of yours with shoes on, checking for the fifth time In-ho’s location. In your mind, you tried to blindly navigate your way and when you were finally convinced that you could do it, you loosened a deep sigh.

“Why so tense, Y/N?” Se-mi asked from the bed beneath yours. You climbed down onto her level and quickly checked if anyone was listening, before you whispered: “After the lights go out, gen under the beds. Trust me.” Thank god she didn’t question it, because you felt ridiculous enough for the both of you for even listening to In-ho. He didn’t have a motive to keep you safe. He had one to kill you, though. You were the only one here who knew his real name. You just didn’t know if it was information worth killing for.

“Lights out in ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight…” You looked around for the last time. The air was stale and tense. Your body started shaking immediately.

“Three, two, one.” The darkness fell like a heavy curtain. You quietly stumbled down the ladder, careful to make as little noise as possible. Your left knee nearly collapsed under you as you made the first step but you kept a firm grip on the railings as you slowly passed between the bunk beds. Two railings, you go right, tree railings, you touch the wall, you follow it into the corner, then four railings before you go left…. But it just wasn’t possible to move as quickly as required. You were three quarters in when hell was unleashed. The sounds of stabbing, screaming and gurgling filled the air but your legs refused to move. You were completely paralysed with fear.

Someone jumped screaming from their bed and stumbled into you. You fell with a yelp on the cold floor and tried to scoot under the closest bed, but someone was already there pushing you out, frantically repeating: “Get out, they’re gonna find me, you have to go!”

You scrambled on all fours and stayed as low as possible while crawling to where In-ho was supposed to be. You were such a fool.

There was a sudden kick to your abdomen and you gasped, pain resonating through your body. Someone tripped over you and fell with a scream, their hands trying to hold onto anything, which just happened to be your hair. You screamed with pain, blindly punching around yourself in a desperate attempt of defence.

“In-ho!” you finally screamed, not caring anymore if someone tracked you down because of it. There was so much noise that it didn’t matter.

“In-ho!” you kept on shouting as you got up and started frantically running in the direction you thought was the right one. You were starting to get desperate, your voice turning into a rasp, tears forcing their way out of your eyes.

Earlier, when you said that you were going to die that day, maybe it would actually happen.

Suddenly, a hand grasped your ankle and you were prepared for the worst. But when your name fell off In-ho’s lips, your shoulders sagged with relief and with a desperate cry you got on the ground and slid next to him under the bed.

“I thought I was dead,” you gasped out, hand on your racing heart.

“Well, me too if that calms you down.”

“It certainly doesn’t, In-ho.” you glared at him. He was looking at you in a strange way, something in his expression you didn’t know how to identify.

“What is it?” you asked, your stomach dropping. Was he actually betraying you? Or was he trying to kiss you? With that look on his face, you couldn’t say which one.

“Say my name again,” he breathed out, your breaths mingling. Suddenly, you noticed all the points where your body was touching his, your skin heating up at the contact.

“In-ho,” you mumbled and stretched out your hand to tuck a strand of his silky hair behind his ear.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” In-ho looked at you with a pained expression.

“Not in the slightest,” you whispered softly against his warm lips as you kissed him.

[piggycyberwarrior]

Summary: After Task Force 141 got a hint that you gave important information to their enemy- the boys do not hesitate to chain you up and give you a taste of hell. You on the other hand are innocent but they do not believe you

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Platonic Task Force 141! x Fem!Reader (Simon Ghost Riley x Reader) a/n: pretty proud of that ngl.. enjoy guys love you!

Warnings: uhm this whole fic is basically a warning. Torture; Blood; Mental Health; Angst angst angst not proof read

genre: ANGST

+ 1,6k words

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

You thought you were going insane.

Maybe you already were, but it was no suprise- seeing the circumstances you were in. Arms stretched uncomfortably backwards and up- chains rubbing your wrists painfully raw. The stress position Soap put you in wasn't easy peasy lemonsqueezy.

Tears brimming in your eyes at the thought. You felt fucking betrayed. You were fucking betrayed, for gods sake! by your own team- the people you cried with- the people that you loved more than yourself- the people you called your family. That one man you took a bullet for.

Fuck all that bullshit.

Those were the same people that didn't believe you when things got rocky. When some pricks pointed their fingers at you- they immediately treated you as an enemy. The same people that chained you up. The same man that made you fucking blind on one eye

Everything was a lie, apparently.

The cell you were in was shady- you didn't expect something different- i mean you just served the military for many years and did everything for your country- of course you didn't deserve something more decent.

In the end you didn't care. Just waited.

When Gaz interrogated you- you kept your mouth shut. What should you do? Lie? Fuck no, you had so much self respect left, even in this dehumanizing situation.

of course your facade broke often times- you were only human after all. And it hurt- you were in this situation before- tortured by your enemies knowing that you would probably outlive them anyway as your team would rip them apart in a few days.

But now- being here- seeing how your 'friends'- your family- spat at you with nothing more than hate made you feel even more miserable- knowing, that no one will safe you this time.

You cried- having panick attacks deep into countless nights-being triggered by any small sound that wasn't coming from you or that rat in the corner of the room. Yelling at them- telling them that you didn't do shit. They didn't believe you.

Spiraling deep in your thoughts- shoulders sore and numb hands from the stress position- still tasting a faint trace of your own blood-

the sensory of the dried up blood on your cheek was uncomfortable at the beginning- cracking everytime you opened your mouth- but it quickly got kicked to the bottom of your worries as Price's wodden bat flew into your face yesterday- tooth flying onto the ground as you spat the crimson liquid at his feet- earning another strike from your Captain.

Your Saliva turning pink with the blood, sticking to your chin- slowly dripping down- having no free hand to wipe it off.

.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

.

You were here for about 1 and a half weeks now- how'd you know that? because you could hear the guards mutter something behind that steal door.

You shivered, suffering from hypothermia, a consequence of being almost naked in this shithole. Simon himself stripped you down- ignoring your pleas and protests.

Simon.

The man you did everything for, took a bullet for, cared for and slept with. He was the love of your life- or so you thought.

You were never scared of Simon. Since the first day you met him- you were kinda drawn to that giant of a man. Always spawning in his near with hearts in your eyes- Soap always made fun of you- but he found it cute neverthless, he could see that Simon didn't hate you.

You stitched him up- knew his fears (being a therapists daughter was quite a help for having deep convos), you knew of his past- even if it took you years to finally break his many iron walls down

You saw his face- kissed his scars and showered him with your time and love- giving him your all- even your body.

You weren't in a relationship- but everybody knew that Simon 'Ghost' Riley liked you. Even if you didn't tell anybody from the Force.

In the end it seemed not be enough, as the same man nearly strangled you to death down here. At first you were desperate, scared- but you stopped pleading a long time ago.

.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

.

heavy footsteps shook you out of your trance- spiraling thoughts stopping for a mere second as you looked into his stone cold eyes.

Balaklava on his scarred face- making you inhale sharply- heart throbbing at his sight. The black paint around his eyes made them pierce through the dark even more.

The same paint you applied more than once onto his unique face. he looked beautiful in your eyes. Even after everything that happened.

You're in here since a few nights.- Clothes starting to hang loosely around your body- having not eaten in days.

"Simon-" you croaked out- voice not cooperating as it should- making you tear up. When did everything turned out to be like that? This nightmare? You flinched a bit- chains clinking softly at your slight movement when he came towards you- still not speaking.

He stared. Stared at your weak frame. The dark hole you were chained into- being in a constant state of fear- Anxiety pulling and clawing at your nerves.

You gritted your teeth- looking to the side with a defeated huff. Tears prickling in your eyes once more- threatening to fall as he watched you like you were a kicked stray dog. Maybe you were in their eyes.

"I-" you croaked out once more "I didn't do it, Simon, i swear" you whispered into the dimmly lit room- Still not looking at him. "I swear to god Simon, I didn't.." you weeped in silence as he just looked "Fuck why should I betray you!!" you screamed in frustration at his figure- tears falling as he only left- leaving you in complete darkness- letting you cry to yourself till you eventually passed out.

.

Not even two day passed before he bursted through the iron door again- the loud sound ripping you out of your unconsciousness before he angrily grabbed you by your collar- hate flickering in those eyes that once held nothing but adoration for you.

"You fuckin' liar" he seethed through gritted teeth- behind that mask. Pushing you into the wall behind you- your head knocking against the brick wall with such a force that made you wince.

You could feel his anger. And you felt the danger that radiated from the man you gave your heart to.

His hands coming up to press against your jugular with a firm grip- picking you up a few inches into the air- chains clinking again. "Y'think you hav' it in you to lie into my fuckin' face" he growled while pressing down harder- you could feel yourself getting more lightheaded- gasping for air- choking for oxygen.

"Plea' Simon" you begged inbetween small gasps- scared what he will do to you. Hands tied together, wiggling in his painful hold like a suffocating fish- legs kicking to get him away from you- it worked- you gasped, trying to get in as much air as you could while your built up saliva ran down your chin-

he let you go for a second before his fist collided with your face. Hard- knocking the air out of your lungs once more "Jus' tell us the truth" he huffed, before hitting again- at first it hurt and then it burned. Your nose cracked under his fists-

Making you see stars and breath heavily before he took the knife out you gifted him for his birthday. Both your names engraved in it-

"'t will be easier for you" he said before popping the knife out of its sheath. "No, Simon" you cried out- whilst seeing the blade. "You don't have to do this" you gasped as he came dangerously close.

"No,no,no!!" you protested as he teared down your clothing, leaving you in a bra and your underwear. Feeling helpless as he teared down your clothes- ignoring your protest. The coldness of the room let goosebumps arise on your skin almost immediately.

He was quiet. That wasn't a good sign. You waited- staring at him, pulling at your chains as he looked at the blade. Fist tightening as he saw the little heart that was engraved into the hilt. Betrayal flushed his senses as he pushed the knife into your upper leg- making you scream in return.

Twisting the knife- hearing your agony but not stopping- he quickly hit you into your left eye socket with the hilt of the knife to shut you up. he didn't want to hear your screams.

Even if he didn't wanted to admit it- he was also teared apart- but his need to let his anger out was stronger - all the time he spent with a fucking liar- gave you his fucked up heart. All for you to be a fucking snake- a traitor.

He had to do his job- protect his family.

Another jab to the eye- hearing your muffled cries echo across the room- making you see red- the burning sensation was an ugly one. You couldn't see on that eye anymore.

"I fuckin' wish I could just kill you" he seethed before leaving you there in the dark- all beat up and bloody- head throbbing and surely a broken nose- making it hard to breath.

.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

.

You waited since then. Waiting for death to come. Waiting for Ghost to end it- but of course he never came back since then. Your wounds were starting to inflame- everything hurt and burned. Your eye swelling almost shut.

They all tortured you. Johnny, Kyle, John and Simon.

But they forgot something important. You were known for being patient. A fucking patient and stubborn woman. You waited. Yes you sometimes protested, and kicked and screamed and insulted them- but you neverthless waited for the day.

The day they finally see that they wronged an innocent. The day you would hurt them. Seek revenge.

Fucking. Revenge.

-

!please do reblog! :)

join the Taglist here (Taglist post)

[shy2-29]

hiii i love your works so much!! i read your heeseung sunghoon fic which was uploaded recently, and fell in love.. i have a request. Can you do something like sunghoon and reader are dating, for a while but not too long. And reader thinks sunghoon doesn't like her anymore or something, because he's very cold to her and avoids her touch/ doesn't initiate physical contact much. So she confronts him about this and they get into an arguement, and sunghoon like confesses that he doesn't touch her/ or whatever because she's a virgin/inexperienced or whatever and sunghoon's quite...kinky or rough so he thinks she'll get scared and he might hurt her if they have sex?

omg this idea is jaw dropping 😱 wrote more than I expected but here you go 🤗

Beyond Expectations | p.sh

pairing: park sunghoon x afab!reader

wc: 5.7k

synopsis: you bumped into Sunghoon not so long ago, and you guys happened to get along very well. You guys then ended up dating, spending lots of time together. A month later, he’s been acting more cold towards you, but you can’t seem to figure out why. Is it because he lost feelings for you, or is it because you’re a virgin and he’s scared he might go too rough on you?

genre: collage romance, smut, nsfw, dark romance

authors note: proudest one yet.. and dirtiest

warnings: not proof read, degrading, p in v, blowjob, virginity loss, swearing, kissing, spitting, fingering, nipple play, begging, arguing, harsh language, teasing, half of it it literally pure smut

nsfw 18+ mdni.

—

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry,” Sunghoon apologized, bending down to pick up your phone.

“Oh- no worries,” you said as he handed you your phone back with a small smile.

Standing in front of you was a young Korean man, slightly taller than you. His handsome features and captivating eyes held your gaze, making it difficult to look away.

Lost in the moment, you blurted out your name. "My name is y/n," you stuttered, still captivated by his mesmerizing eyes.

Sunghoon chuckled lightly at your sudden introduction and introduced himself as well. "Sunghoon,” he said softly. His smile was warm and friendly, putting you a little more at ease.

"Is this your first day of college as well?" he inquired, studying your face intently with his sharp eyes.

You nodded in agreement, your heart pounding in your chest as Sunghoon continued the conversation. "Yes, it's my first year of college too," you responded, the excitement mixing with a hint of nerves.

"Ah, we're in the same year then," he replied, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He leaned against the wall, his gaze still fixated on you, sizing you up.

"You don't look like the typical college freshman," he observed, his eyes lingering over your every feature. He seemed to be studying you intently, making you a bit self-conscious under his intense stare.

Your voice faltered slightly as you struggled to respond. "I-oh," you stammered, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I don't...?" you trailed off, searching for the right words.

"No, I mean," Sunghoon chuckled, his smirk turning into a full grin. "You look like you could pass yourself off as a third or fourth year." He raised an eyebrow, awaiting your response.

"It's a compliment," he assured, sensing your confusion. "You have a certain maturity about you, unlike most first-years who seem so... innocent." He chuckled again, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You blushed as you realized your mistake. "Oh, thank you?" you murmured, your cheeks tinted with a rosy hue.

"No need to thank me, I'm simply stating the facts," he said as his gaze traveled down your body, taking in every curve and contour.

"You must have a lot of guys chasing after you," he observed, a hint of playful flirting evident in his voice.

You forced out a laugh, your heart racing. "Haha, not really," you chuckled, a hint of self-consciousness in your voice, "I'm usually just the quiet kid in the corner..."

Sunghoon looked at you skeptically, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The quiet ones are always the most interesting ones," he said, his tone dropping to a sultry murmur. "They hide the most secrets and surprises."

You felt your cheeks growing warmer under his intense gaze, the air around you suddenly feeling thick and charged with tension. you tried to form a coherent response, but your mind was blank.

"I... I suppose that's true," you managed to stutter out, feeling a little flustered by his attention.

"Speaking of secrets and surprises," He leaned closer to you, his body almost pressing against yours now. His eyes flicked down to your lips for a split second before meeting your gaze again, his voice a low whisper. "How about I take you out sometime? We can explore these secrets together."

You felt your heart skipping a beat at his proposition, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. You managed to compose yourself enough to respond, a mix of excitement and nervousness evident in your voice.

"I... Sure,” you breathed out, unable to tear your gaze away from his captivating eyes. "I'd love that."

A satisfied smirk spread across Sunghoon's face, his eyes lighting up with a spark of triumph. "Great,” he replied, his voice laced with a hint of satisfaction. "I'll pick you up tomorrow night."

Your heart quickened at the speed at which he proposed a date, but you maintained a composed exterior. "Yeah, tomorrow night sounds great!" you responded, keeping your cool demeanor intact.

"Perfect." Sunghoon pushed himself off the wall, his gaze never leaving yours. He took a step back, creating a small distance between you two, a sly smile playing on his lips. "I’ll need your number and your dorm room number as well-“

"To pick you up, of course." He chuckled, watching you intently, waiting for your reaction.

You blinked, a bit thrown off by his request. Hesitating for a moment, you decided to give him the information he asked for.

"Uh, sure," you said, pulling your phone out of your pocket. You unlocked it and opened a new contact, turning it towards him. "Here's my number."

You then gave him your dorm room number, feeling a mixture of curiosity and nervousness.

He took the phone from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. He looked at the information for a moment before entering it into his phone.

“Perfect,” he said, handing back your phone with a sly smile. "I'll see you tomorrow night, y/n."

—

Over the following weeks, it became apparent that you shared numerous similarities with Sunghoon. A mutual love for skating and a shared shyness formed the foundation of your connection. You found yourself growing more fond of him, and from his actions, it seemed he also felt the same way about you.

As the days passed, your interactions with Sunghoon continued to grow more frequent. You found yourselves hanging out after classes, studying together in the library, and occasionally having lunch together in the cafeteria.

During your conversations, you discovered that you both had a passion for a certain author, shared a favorite movie series, and even had a mutual disdain for a certain professor's boring lectures. Each new similarity you discovered only strengthened the connection between you two.

You and Sunghoon were cuddled up in his dorm room, watching a movie together. Suddenly, he received a notification, prompting him to excuse himself.

"I'll be back, y/n," he said, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead before heading into the bathroom. “Don’t miss me too much!” You joke as you bring your focus back to the movie.

It was a text message from his close friend, Jay.

Jay: yo, I saw you with y/n the other day

Jay: you guys dating?

Sunghoon: yeah? For almost a month, why?

Jay: nothing much, just heard she’s a virgin

Sunghoon: oh

Sunghoon: from who?

Jay: I’m friends with her ex, Jake?

Jay: He told me about it

Sunghoon: oh ok

As Sunghoon turned off his phone. he took a moment to himself. His mind was racing, plagued by thoughts and conflicting emotions. He splashed some water on his face, trying to clear his head. But no matter how much he tried, he couldn't shake off the weight of his doubts.

Leaning against the sink, he let out a deep sigh, the sound filling the small bathroom space. He knew he couldn't keep avoiding this conversation any longer.

He stood there for a few moments more, the sound of the running water from the faucet adding to the chaos in his mind. Taking a deep breath, Sunghoon pushed himself away from the sink and turned off the water. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to collect his thoughts before opening the door and stepping back into the room.

Sunghoon's feelings of doubt and self-consciousness were due to a number of factors. Despite his outwardly confident demeanor, he harbored a deep fear of causing you harm. He had grown to care for you deeply and the thought of potentially hurting you, especially in an intimate context, filled him with anxiety. Additionally, Sunghoon was aware of your inexperience and worried that he wouldn't be able to meet your expectations, further fueling his insecurities.

—

The days turned into weeks, and as your relationship with Sunghoon continued to progress, you couldn't help but notice a subtle change in his behavior recently. He had become withdrawn, rarely initiating any physical contact and avoiding your touch whenever possible. You couldn't help but worry that he was losing interest in you, but you didn't know what caused this sudden shift in his behavior.

The coldness in his demeanor and unwillingness to touch you left you feeling confused and hurt. You tried to brush it off, telling yourself that it was just a passing phase, but deep down, you couldn't ignore the nagging suspicion that something was wrong.

One evening, after a particularly tense and silent dinner together, you decided that you couldn't keep silent any longer. As Sunghoon sat on his bed, staring blankly at his phone, you stood before him, arms crossed and a serious expression on your face.

“I don’t know man,” Sunghoon typed on his phone, not noticing you were in the room. “I might fuck her up, you know I can’t help myself.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, raking his fingers through his hair. The weight of his thoughts and fears were starting to take their toll on him. Suddenly, he felt a presence and looked up from his phone to see you standing in front of him, arms crossed and a stern look on your face.

He flinched, startled by your sudden appearance. For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes darting awkwardly to the floor before meeting your gaze.

“Uh, hey,” he muttered, his voice faltering slightly.

Your gaze didn't waver as you looked at him, trying to read his expression. You noticed the flicker of unease in his eyes and the way he shifted uncomfortably under your stare. A mix of concern and frustration bubbled within you.

"Why are you so distantly recently?" you said finally, your voice firm and unwavering. “If you want to break up, you couldn’t just told me…”

Sunghoon’s eyes widened at your words, and he quickly sat up straight. "What?! No, no, it's not that at all," he protested, his voice tinged with anxiety. "Why would you think that?"

You let out an exasperated sigh, feeling a mix of anger and confusion. "Then what is it?" you snapped, your patience wearing thin. "You have been acting so distant lately, avoiding me, barely touching me…"

His face fell, the realization of his own actions sinking in. He fidgeted with his fingers, unable to meet your gaze. "I…I just…,” he mumbled, struggling to find the right words.

"Just tell me the truth," you said, your voice cracking slightly. "Are you losing interest in me? Is that it?"

He shook his head vigorously. "No, of course not," he insisted, his eyes pleading with you to understand. "I could never lose interest in you, y/n. That's not it at all."

You huffed, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. "Who were you texting on your phone?" you pressed, trying to get to the bottom of his recent behavior. “Is it another girl?”

"No, no, it's not anything like that!" Sunghoon hurried to explain, trying to assure you. "I was just talking to Jay about something, I swear."

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism written on your face. "If that's true, then show me your phone," you demanded. "Let me see your conversation with Jay."

He froze, his eyes widening in surprise and mild panic. "What? You don’t trust me?" he protested weakly.

You rolled your eyes, growing increasingly annoyed with his defensiveness. "It's not about trust. It's about transparency and honesty," you retorted. "If you have nothing to hide, then there's no reason not to show me your phone."

Sunghoon let out a sigh, realizing he was in a tight spot. He knew he couldn't argue with you any further without raising even more suspicion. Reluctantly, he unlocked his phone and handed it over to you.

You scrolled through his phone, noticing a pattern in his conversations with Jay. One message, in particular, caught your eye: "Is this why?" you asked, confronting him with the text on Jay telling him you were a virgin. "Is this why you're avoiding me?"

Sunghoon's face turned crimson as you confronted him with the text message. He stumbled over his words, trying to find an explanation. "I… I didn't mean for you to see that…" he muttered, his voice tinged with shame and embarrassment.

"Answer the question, Sunghoon," you said, your voice firm. "Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

He hesitated for a moment, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Yes," he admitted in a soft voice. "I didn't… I didn't want to scare you."

Frustration and confusion crept into your voice as you retorted, "Scared me? What's so frightening about it? Tell me, Sunghoon!"

He let out a weary sigh, his body drooping even further. "It's… it's just that I'm scared I might be too rough, or that I'll hurt you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "And the thought of that scares me more than anything."

Anger simmered beneath the surface as you resisted the urge to lash out physically. Instead, you rolled your eyes and asserted, "I'm not some delicate flower, Sunghoon. Try me."

His eyes widened at your challenge. "Y-You don't understand," he protested, his voice quivering with a mix of anxiety and desperation. "I have... certain... tendencies, desires maybe... and if I lose control, I could really hurt you."

You let out a scoff, the frustration reaching its boiling point. "And you think I can't handle that?" you retorted. "Do you really think I'm so fragile that I can't take whatever you have to offer?"

He looked away, a mix of guilt and insecurity etched on his face. "No, it’s not that I don’t think you can’t handle it," he mumbled, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "It's more like...I don't trust myself."

You took a step closer to him, your voice filled with determination. "Well, maybe it's time you start trusting me," you said firmly. "Trust me to know my own limits, trust me to tell you if things go too far. Just give me a chance, Sunghoon."

He looked at you, his eyes searching your face for any hint of doubt or uncertainty. Slowly, he nodded, letting out a shaky sigh. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll... I'll try."

You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the fear of being a disappointment lingering. You reached out, gently touching his cheek. "I trust you, Sunghoon," you reassured him, your voice filled with sincerity. "No matter how rough you are with me. I have faith in you."

His breaths came in staggered gasps as he placed a trembling hand over yours, holding it against his face. He closed his eyes, seeming to struggle with overwhelming emotions. "Okay," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "...okay."

You took a step closer to Sunghoon, closing the distance between you. You tilted your head up to look into his eyes, your voice softer now. "Sunghoon," you said, your gaze fixed onto his face. "Please... please kiss me."

His eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and desire in his gaze. He hesitantly lifted a hand, cupping your face in his trembling palm. "Are you...are you sure?" he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

You nodded, assuring him with a gentle smile. "I'm sure," you whispered. "Just kiss me, Sunghoon."

A shudder ran through his body, his breath hitching in his throat at your words. Without a second thought, he leaned forward, capturing your lips in a rough and desperate kiss.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against his body. The kiss was frenzied and intense, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that took your breath away.

As the kiss deepened, a primal hunger seemed to awaken within him. His hands began to wander, roaming over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine.

His tongue sought out yours, and the kiss grew more intense and demanding, leaving you panting for breath.

He pushed you back against the wall, trapping you between his body and the hard surface. You could feel his cock hardening through his pants. His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive skin.

Teeth nipped at your pulse point, causing a gasp to escape your lips. His hands continued to wander, skimming over your sides and hips, his touch rough but still incredibly gentle.

He pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I want you, y/n. So much. But I'm scared... I'm scared to lose control and hurt you."

His voice was rough with emotion, torn between a need for you and a deep-seated fear of causing you pain. Your heart ached for him, and you reached up to cup his face in your hands, meeting his gaze with unwavering certainty.

"You won't hurt me," you whispered, your voice firm and steady. "I trust you, Sunghoon. I trust you with my body, with my heart. Just let go, let yourself be with me."

A shudder ran through his body at your words, his eyes darkening with an intense mix of desire and trepidation.

He leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I… I’ll try," he mumbled, his voice choked with emotion. "I’ll try to control myself. For you."

He leaned in, capturing your lips in another fierce yet tender kiss, his hands roaming over your body with a hint of newfound caution but still imbued with a fierce possessiveness. His touch was rougher now, less restrained, but you could sense he was holding back, still afraid to lose control completely.

With a mixture of urgency and tenderness, Sunghoon's hands moved to the hem of your top, slowly inching it up and over your head.

The cool air of the room hit your skin, sending a shiver through your body. He tossed the fabric aside, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin, taking in every dip and curve.

His hands skimmed over your shoulders, down your arms, as if exploring you, mapping out your body with his touch. He paused for a moment, as if taking a breath, before his hands moved to the button of your jeans.

Slowly, almost torturously, he unbuttoned them, the sound echoing through the room. He took his time, drawing out the moment, his eyes never leaving your face, watching for any signs of discomfort or hesitation.

He lowered the zipper, then ran his hands over your hips and thighs, his touch light and reverent. “You’re so fucking beautiful y/n.”

A shiver ran down your spine as you were exposed to this previously unbeknownst side of him. Unable to contain yourself, you pleaded, "Please, Sunghoon..." Your voice dripped with a mix of desire and unintentional desperation as your hips unintentionally bucked upwards.

A low growl escaped his throat as he felt your hips move against him. His eyes darkened with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "Patience, sweetheart," he murmured, his hands continuing their exploration.

He slipped the jeans down your legs, his touch still gentle despite the rough edge to his voice. "I want to savor this... savor you."

His hands roamed over the newly exposed flesh of your thighs, his touch feather-light, yet leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

You could feel the heat of his breath on your skin as he leaned in, his lips tracing a path along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Each kiss, a promise and a question, a wordless communication of his desire to be more than he has allowed himself to be this far.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, as his lips continued their exploration. You could see the raw desire, the primal need, burning in his gaze. He moved higher, his lips grazing that sensitive spot where your leg met your hip. His teeth nipped at the tender skin there, then soothed the sting with a flick of his tongue.

Then, he pulled back, his eyes raking over your form, taking in every inch. He was still holding back, still scared to let the animalistic need inside of him take control.

But you could see a shift in his demeanor, a growing tension in his shoulders. He was fighting a battle within himself, and the need to lose control was winning.

He took a step back, his chest heaving with the effort to stay in control. His hands clenched, as if trying to stop them from reaching out to you. "You've got to... you need to stop me now," he said, his voice ragged. “I... I can’t... I won’t be able to stop myself if you don’t stop me now, y/n…”

The raw vulnerability in his words sent a pang through you. You could see the struggle etched on his face, the conflict between his desire and his fear. You took a step towards him, your voice gentle but firm. "No," you said, your eyes locked with his. "I won't stop you. I wanna feel you, Sunghoon."

His eyes widened slightly, the last thread of his restraint snapping. In an instant, he closed the distance between you, his hands grabbing your hips, pulling you against him. His lips crashed into yours, his tongue demanding admission.

You felt this hot, uncomfortable sensation between your legs, your body telling you to grind on his clothed leg, letting out a quiet whimper as you do so.

Sunghoon must've felt your body's reaction because he freezes for a moment, his eyes darkening almost immediately. His grip on your hips tightens as he growls lowly, a primal sound that comes from the back of his throat.

He pulls his leg back slightly, denying you the friction you're seeking. "You little slut," he murmurs between kisses. "You like testing my self control, don't you?"

You let out a frustrated whimper, your body thrumming with need. “Please, Sunghoon... I need you,” you pant against his lips. “Stop teasing me and just give me what I need.”

His grip on you loosens momentarily, surprise flashing across his face for a brief moment. Your words, your obvious need for him, seem to awaken something in him that he was fighting so hard to contain.

A low growl rumbles from his chest as he pushes you back against the wall, trapping you with his body.

“J-just do something..” you whined, “I feel something between my legs and I don’t know what it is..”

He chuckles darkly, his hands roaming over your body. "Do something, huh? Don't mind if I do," he murmurs in response. One hand moves to your hip, while the other slides down between your thighs. His fingers tease over the cloth of your underwear, and you can feel the heat and dampness there.

You moan, a shudder running through your body as his fingers touch you. Your hips buck towards his hand, seeking more of his touch. "Please, Sunghoon... I need more," you breathe out, your voice desperate and pleading. “Want your cock..”

His breath hitches at your words, a raw hunger flaring in his eyes. He presses his body against yours, trapping you against the wall.

His hands move back to your hips, his grip bruising in their intensity. “Such a dirty mouth, princess,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “Cock-hungry for me, are you? I might not be able to fit without prep..”

“I don’t care,” you gasp out. “Just do it. I need you. Now.” Your head falls back against the wall, your eyes closed as you surrender to the wave of desire coursing through you. The words tumbling out of your lips, unrestrained and wanton, only seem to fuel his own need.

He lets out a guttural moan, his restraint hanging by a thread. "You're such a good girl," he growls, his hands roaming over your body, gripping and caressing. His lips find the sensitive spot where your neck and shoulder meet, his teeth nipping at your skin. "Want me to fill you up?”

He continues to kiss and bite at your neck, his lips moving down to your collarbone, then to your chest. His hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of your body.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "How fucking bad I wanted to shove my cock into your tight pussy."

He reluctantly pulls back from you, his hands fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. His movements are slightly jerky, desperate. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, pushing them down his legs, kicking them off impatiently.

His shirt is next to go, tugged off over his head in one swift motion. He stands before you, bare except for a pair of black boxers that do little to hide his arousal.

You take him in, your gaze roaming over his body, taking in every curve and contour. He's beautiful, lean and muscular, every inch of him taut and defined. His chest heaves with laboured breaths, his eyes fixated on you.

Your own body feels exposed, vulnerable, but also powerful in a way. You're the only one who's ever had this effect on him, and it's a heady feeling.

Your eyes widen at the sight before you. He was right, how was he going to fit? You unintentionally reach out and grab his member, stroking it slowly.

His breath hitches, a low moan escaping his lips. His hands clench into fists at his sides, as if he's trying to hold back. "Y/n... " he gasps, his voice ragged. "You gotta stop that... I might cum like this..”

Your hand stills, your eyes widening in surprise. You didn't expect your touch to have such an effect on him. "Sorry," you murmur apologetically. "I just... I wanted to feel you."

He lets out a strained laugh, his eyes dark and intense. "Don't say sorry," he murmurs, stepping closer to you again. "I just... I don't want to scare you..”

“I’m not scared.” You assure him, your voice slightly steadier. “I trust you, Hoon.”

His chest heaves, the use of his nickname seemingly affecting him. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, then steps closer so that his body is flush against yours.

His hands come up to cup your face, his thumbs tracing gentle circles over your cheeks. "Alright," he murmurs, his eyes searching yours. "But if I get too rough, you have to tell me, okay?"

You nod your head slowly before gripping onto his bare thighs, lowering your mouth on top of tip smudged in pre-cum.

He lets out a hiss of pleasure as your mouth touches him. His hands move to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands. “Ah..fuck...” he moaned, his hips jerking involuntarily. “Been dreaming about this for so fucking long, so good for a virgin..”

His grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place, as he starts to slowly thrust into your mouth. "Take it all, princess... let me fill your mouth with my hot cum. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You feel a thrill at his words, a mixture of shame and desire coursing through you. Somehow, being called a ‘princess’ and being talked to this shamelessly makes you feel both incredibly embarrassed and incredibly turned on.

Despite his rough handling, you can’t help but feel a sense of power, knowing that you’re the one making him feel like this.

It’s a new sensation to you, this sense of power. But it’s addictive. You want more, you want to see how else you can unravel him, how else you can make him lose control.

You felt the sudden urge to bring your hands up to his balls, massage them as you took him deeper, gagging in the process of it.

He groans, a low and guttural sound that reverberates through his chest. His hands tighten in your hair, his hips jerking forward slightly. "Oh..fuck.." he hisses, his eyes fluttering shut. "That feels so good y/n- keep going-“

Then, suddenly, he pulls back, his eyes snapping open. "Wait," he says, his voice strained. "Stop for a second."

His actions caused you to flinch a bit, licking the access pre-cum off your lips. “D-did I do something wrong..?”

He shakes his head, his chest heaving. "No, no, you're doing so good, princess," he assures you, his eyes raking over your form. "I wanna cum inside your pussy, wanna ruin you."

You let out a whimper at his words, nodding your head Sunghoon climbed over you, taking a nipple in his mouth. “A-ahh! Sunghoon-“ you moan, arching your back to this new found sensation.

He chuckles at your reaction, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. His hands roam over your body, his touch rough and demanding, and yet also somehow gentle at the same time. "Like that, princess?“ he asks, his voice a low rumble. “Love the way you moan my name.”

He releases your nipple with a pop, his lips moving up your body to your neck. He peppers kisses and bites along the sensitive skin, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “God you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with praise. “So perfect for me, y/nnie.”

Then, his lips are at your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “Wanna make you mine,” he whispers, his voice rough with need. “Wanna mark you, make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

His fingers trail down your body, his touch leaving tingles in its wake. He reaches your core, his fingertips gently circling the sensitive bud, making you gasp. “So sensitive,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. “So wet already?”

“Please Sunghoon..” you beg, too cock hungry to even think straight. “Please..”

He chuckles, his eyes darkening with desire. “Impatient, are we?“ he teases, his fingers continuing their maddening pace. He then proceeded to shove a finger inside your hole in a quick fashion.

You arch your back, a low moan escaping your lips at the intrusion. "Sunghoon," you gasp out, "please... more...feel so good!”

He grins at your words, a wolfish smile curving his lips. “More, huh?” He asks, slipping another finger inside you. “You greedy slut, so cock hungry you can’t even speak properly?” He chuckled, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, pulling them out with a pop.

“You taste so good y/n,” he says before positioning his tip inside your virgin pussy, slamming right in. “I- I told you I won’t be able to control myself..” he groaned, looking down at your pleasured expression.

His eyes are hazy with lust and he looks completely wrecked, like he’s about to lose all control. He’s panting heavily, and his jaw is clenched tight. There’s an intensity in his gaze that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, lowering his face down, locking his lips with yours to quiet down your moans. “Do you want people to hear us? Want them to know how much of a needy slut you are?”

His voice is rough, and his words are filthy, but there’s something about them that’s so damn sexy. He’s never talked to you like this before, like you’re something he wants to devour. And it’s making you feel things you’ve never felt before.

Your eyes rolled back at his words as you proceeded to bring your hand to his hair, pulling onto it tightly, indicating that you’re close.

Sunghoon grunted, his eyes fluttering as you pulled on his hair. "Fuck," he groaned, the words guttural from his lips. "You like it when I talk dirty to you, huh? You like it when I pound into you relentlessly? Want me to fill you up with my cum?”

His pace is rough, almost savage, and it’s doing things to you that you can’t begin to describe. You’re clawing at his back, your breaths coming out in short, sharp gasps. “H-Hoon I’ll-” you stammer out, your voice catching.

“You’re gonna what?” he asks, his lips curving into a lopsided smile. “You’re gonna cum?” he mocks, his tone cocky and seductive.

“Open your mouth.”

“what?”

“I said open your mouth. Open it wide.”

You're slightly flustered, but you don't protest. You open your mouth, your tongue peeking out. Sunghoon swears under his breath at the sight.

“God... “ he murmurs, his eyes darkening even more. “You’re so perfect, y/n. So perfect for me.”

“I-I’m-” you start to say, but he cuts you off, bringing his mouth down and spits into your mouth. He laughed at your confused reaction as you swallow it anyways.

“Good girl,” he praises, his voice rough and raspy. “You like swallowing my spit, princess?”

His words are filthy, but they spark something in you. You didn’t know that words could have such an effect on you, but when they came from sunghoon, when they were spoken so low and huskily, they seemed to set your core on fire.

You find yourself responding to his words, nodding eagerly. “Yes,” you gasp out, the word coming out needy and pleading. “Yes, I like it…like it all…”

Suddenly, you felt your climax close, tugging onto his hair tightly. “Fuck.. Hoon! I’m cumming!”

His eyes darkened at your words. "That's it," he groans, fastening his thrusts, bringing a finger down to rub your clit. “Going to fill you up, fill this is virgin pussy up-“

Finally, Sunghoon thrusts himself into you one last time as you felt his cum gush into you, throwing your head back as your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Ngh- Sunghoon!” You whimpered, letting out a pornographic moan.

He groaned, collapsing onto you, his body heavy and hot. His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. “You alright, princess?” He asked, his voice gruff.

You nod, a little breathless. "Y-yeah," you respond, your voice coming out in a small huff. "That was... That was incredible, Hoon. I told you I could handle it..”

He lets out a low chuckle, the corner of his lips curving up in a satisfied smile. "Yeah, you did good," he says, nuzzling his face into your neck. "You were perfect, princess."

yippie! | masterlist

[luveline]

Hii!! I’ve been binging your fics all week so I wanted to make a request of my own!! 🫶

I was thinking Hotch (and Jack, obviously) with a reader who’s been his long time girlfriend, the constantly stay over at each others houses type. Reader has a cat, one that sleeps with her every night, and Aaron just dealing with that 😭 and maybe a little bit of Jack with a kitty 🩷 thanks !!

Ty for requesting!! fem

“Are you sure it’s okay?” 

Hotch pulls you in through the front door. He doesn’t roll his eyes, but he could. “As sure as I was the first ten times you asked.” 

“I hear the ire in your voice. Don’t be mean.” 

What better time is there to suffocate you in affection than after a damning accusation such as that? Hotch smiles into a kiss, letting his fingers run down your arm to the handle of the carrier. From inside echoes a soft meow. 

“I think she’s upset,” you say. 

“About being moved?” 

“About her beau she sees in the window sometimes. Brokenhearted.” 

He lifts the carrier and you open the door. You make soft kissy sounds until your cat, lovely miss Goldie, deigns to crawl toward your hands. You scoop her out of the carrier and kiss her shiny fur, hand instinctively running down her back. Goldie is a big girl, full grown, with a cuddly disposition. She doesn’t like to play or fight, but she’s adventurous. Hotch is sure she’ll have fun exploring the apartment again. 

“Where’s Jack?” you ask over Goldie’s head. 

“Somewhere. I think he’s reading.” 

You give Goldie a pet, turning her to see Hotch, who finds himself quite fond of the creature despite previous inclinations. “Hello, Miss Goldie,” he says, thumbing at the place between her eyes carefully, 

She mews. 

“She missed you.” You kiss his cheek, giving him all sorts of thoughts about missing you, your perfume, and your skin. 

You put Goldie down and let her explore. You’ve brought a travel litter tray and a few things for breakfast, setting the tray up in the smaller of the bathrooms while Hotch makes his way to Jack’s room. 

Jack’s sitting in a beanbag playing on his DS, eyebrows furrowed but wearing a smirk his dad so rarely sees. 

“Your best friend is here,” Hotch teases from the doorway. “And she’s brought someone with her.” 

Jack’s jaw drops. “She brought the cat?”

“Yes, and she’s looking for you, I’d wager.”

Jack snaps his game console closed and clambers onto his feet. Hotch catches him before he can race down the stairs, murmuring fatherly chastisement and ruffling his hair as Jack thunders down them anyhow. “You’ll scare the poor cat,” Hotch says, and only then does Jack chill out. 

“Y/N?” Jack says, edging into the living room. 

You’ve made yourself comfortable on the couch, laying half-curled with a predictable Goldie purring on the cushion behind your head. “Hi, bud! You’re not that excited to see me, I know.” 

“Can I pet her?” he asks. 

“Sure. Just do the kissy noises and she’ll come right to you. Hey, did you miss me at all? I missed you.” 

“Of course I missed you, Y/N,” Jack says, kneeling in front of you and patting the cushion next to your legs as he attempts to smack his lips together. “Hiii, Goldie.” 

Her fur is quite rare, in Hotch’s uneducated opinion. She’s a British shorthair if he recalls correctly, somewhere between white and blonde. I found her in the street, you’d said, third date, lipstick on his cheek from a few tipsy kisses, all covered in fleas and tics, who could ever do that? Can you believe it?

Goldie slinks down to bump her face against Jack’s hand. “Lean in and she’ll give you a kiss,” you whisper. 

Jack leans forward. Goldie follows him slowly, sniffing, whiskers twitching, before pressing her nose and jowls to his nose gently. Jack’s laugh is younger than his years, he’s that happy. 

Goldie jumps down off of the couch to walk a circle around Jack, nudging his arms with her nose. She wants to be picked up and held, but Jack doesn’t know that yet. She does it to you constantly when Hotch is over, not jealous, just demanding. And at night when you sleep and Hotch is trying to cuddle you, she either decides that she’s the one that’s going to be in your arms tonight, or that the only place she could ever sleep is on top of Hotch’s head. 

It’s much the same in the evening. Hotch sits next to you on the couch in an attempt to rub the tiredness out of your back, and Goldie, still unheld, moises over to nose at your legs with her little wet nose. 

“Come here, darling,” you croon, while Hotch restrains your arms. 

“You love the cat more than me.” 

“Only most of the time, Aaron,” you say, reaching under his hugging to try and pick her up. 

“Leave her for a minute, Jack’s playing with her.” 

Jack, as lovely as he is, had abandoned everyone to play on his DS again, evidenced by the sounds of kart racing echoing from his room. “She gets lonely,” you whine. 

“So do I.” 

You sigh and cup the back of his head. “You’re as clingy as she is, too.” 

He feels an insistent pressing against his knee, though he ignores it in favour of your face, turning you toward him for a kiss, desperate to lay a proper one on you after an hour without one, but then a little mew comes and you pat his cheek. 

“Come on, honey, my old girl wants in on the hugs.” 

You put Goldie in the crease between your thigh and his. She purrs with delight. He watches you smile at her, knowing that the nuisance of your big heart is a part of why he loves you. Doesn’t make going without your kisses any easier.

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly (Mouthwash)

Part 1

(This gonna be a mini serie)

"What do you mean I can't see him? It's my husband we're talking about."

You crossed your arms but tried to maintain a relaxed posture, you didn't want to get defensive, you knew well that Anya wasn't the one to blame, you were just too anxious after that crash.

Anya: "I'm so sorry (Y/n), but the captain himself has told me that he doesn't want you to see him... He doesn't feel capable of seeing you in the state he is"

"Oh, I understand now. But you know that if he is incapacitated to perform his tasks and give instructions, then that makes me the captain."

You said firmly, putting your hands on your waist and puffing your chest, making the woman feeling so little. 

Anya: "I know, but he... Give him time, please... He is in pain."

"Anya please- it's been a week already. I need to see him" 

You ran your hand over your face, pressing your brow for a few seconds, trying to relax. 

You had been working with Curly as her co-captain for years, and less than a year ago, you had even gotten married.

Many questioned your position since they said that in case you had to be promoted to captain if something happened to Curly, your judgment would be influenced by your husband. 

You weren't going to give them rigth to keep saying that. You worked too hard for that and you now that the situation has come up you will show them.

"You are right, the captain's last orders must be respected, but please, tell me if at any moment he feel ready to see me." 

You took the woman's hands firmly, almost pleadingly, to which she nodded. 

You needed to stay calm to keep everything in order on the ship. 

"The cockpit is completely destroyed... the corridor to it was automatically sealed with safety foam so that space wouldn't absorb us, we are floating aimlessly, and we don't have a radio to call for rescue..."

You murmured while attentively examining the ship's blueprints along with Swansea and Daisuke. 

"Are the suits still available?" 

Swansea: "The room where they are stored has foam that has sealed the door, but it is not a very thick layer."

"Then I'll use one and exit through the hatch to check the cockpit damage, maybe there's something that can still work."

Daisuke: "Woah... The covkpit was blown up... It's a miracle that the explosion allowed the captain to reach the corridor before it was sealed with foam, otherwise he would be floating in the-"

He fell silent when he saw Swansea's look, gesturing towards you. 

"Yes... the truth is that it was a miracle that he's still alive, I'm grateful for it... Let's stick to the plan."

You stood up, ready to go to the room where the spacesuits were.

At that moment, Swansea took the opportunity to hit Daisuke on the head. 

After managing to get in and take the suit, you headed to the exit room, equipped yourself before leaving through the hatch. 

You observed in detail the void around you, a dark sea full of stars and debris floating around you. 

You held on to the ship, trying to reach the cockpit.

Swansea: "(T/n), can you hear me? Can you see anything?"

You smiled upon realizing that the suit communicator was intact, happy to feel that you weren't alone on that walk. 

"Loud and clear Swansea, I'm approaching the cockpit, the foam has spread outside the ship, it seems that it has prevented the fire from spreading."

You responded and went down to the cockpit, there was almost nothing, the only thing found there was the floor and half of the control panel. 

You sighed in resignation upon seeing that there was nothing salvageable left, everything too broken and burned. 

Until you got scared when something hit your helmet. 

Swansea: "All good?? Your pulse has accelerated too much."

"Yeah... I'm sorry... Something scared me."

You mentioned seeing Curly's ring floating near you, and soon you took it before it drifted away and kept it. 

You returned to the ship and took off the suit, and upon seeing Swansea, you shook your head, assuring him that there was nothing there that you can use to get out of there.  

Daisuke: "How did it feel to be in space??"

Swansea: "Child!"

"No, no, it's fine Swansea," you raised your hand, interrupting the man before he could scold the boy. "You never get used to that feeling, I've gone out many times for different reasons but each one is unique."

Daisuke: "Did you see an alien?? Was that what scared you?"

"Oh yeah, it had enormous eyes and tentacles on its arms, giant and ponty teeth, ready to devour interns!"

You and Swansea started laughing when Daisuke hid behind the older one. 

When they stopped laughing, you looked at both of them with a smile. 

"We're going to find a way out of here, I promise you." 

Swansea: "Sure, captain," he nodded at your words. 

It felt so strange to finally be called that way, but you maintained your stance, nodding and leaving that place to head to the reserve depot. 

You started organizing the remaining food supplies, it seemed like they were going to have to ration a bit, so you began separating and counting everything to maintain an inventory. 

You locked the storage room with a key so there wouldn't be any food thefts. 

You rested your head against the door and sighed. 

You searched in your pocket and took out the ring you had found, noticing how it was slightly deformed by the heat and cold it had been exposed to, but it still retained its circular shape. 

You placed it on your ring finger, next to your wedding ring.

You were sure that his ring was way bigger than yours, but the explosion for sure make it smaller now for you to use it.

After looking at it for a while, you pressed your lips against the two rings. 

"We're going to get through this, no matter what it costs me."

[sp0o0kylights]

Give meee: an Eddie who went into a small little bookshop on an Indie trip and stumbled across an in person fandom meeting. 

It's mostly Star Trek, and also mostly women, but the stories they have are nothing like Eddie's ever read. 

He's barely a teenager, and already protective of himself and his real identity--but everything he's ever wanted is written down, right here, on a little zine with Kirk and Spock doodled on the cover. 

They’re not--it’s not obvious, that they’re what he is, but the story itself is blatant and Eddie ends up being so obviously close to tears, he accidentally outs himself without ever saying a word. 

(He also ends up on the mailing list, then being sent home with several hand printed copies of all kinds of zines.) 

Eddie would remain on this list well past his third senior year in high school. 

Past bats, and Vecna and Steve fucking Harrington. 

Flash forward to his first apartment.The tiny one he shares with Steve when they followed Nancy and Robin to college. 

Steve knows Eddie’s gay. 

Or rather, Steve has been told, but Eddie's still pretty clammed up about it. He's not yet where Robin is, ready to bemoan her loveless existence while draped over their crappy, thrifted couch.

He makes jokes and he flirts and he absolutely says things he shouldn't, but none of it is real. 

It's flash. Showmanship. 

It's the persona that yes, is him, but Eddie consciously built it. There’s nothing soft or gooey there, nothing anyone can use to hurt him. 

So when he comes home and sees that plain, padded envelope with the neatly printed label on the counter, torn wide open and flat without its contents?

 Eddie panics. 

His heart thunders in his chest, vision tunneling as adrenaline kicks through him. 

He wants to bolt-- should bolt--except ever since he almost died his brain no longer obeys him. 

Not when it comes to running, anyway. 

Instead it fights him to a standstill, freezing his feet right to the living room floor. 

The urge is still there. 

To run, and save face the cowards way. 

Vanish before Steve could get at a part of him that had once kept Eddie out of Wayne’s trailer for two days, until the old man had hunted him down and made him come home, huffing about how he’d love Eddie no matter what but he better never disappear like that again. 

(Which Eddie did anyway, and of everything that happened with Vecna, it’s that he regrets the most. The stories he heard of Wayne putting up posters. Squaring off with angry, too-righteous townies, and--)

A sniffle jerks him out of his thoughts. 

Eddie gasps, entirely unsure of when he stopped breathing. Stumbles back and turns, right in time for Steve to come out of his room and amble down their hallway. 

One hand rubs at his eyes, and the other is--the other has…

Eddie identifies the cheaply printed, stapled zine immediately. It's one he's wanted to read for a while now, solely because it features a story about Kirk and Spock being stuck in a cave together on a planet that has  bat-like, vicious animals on it. 

Kirk gets bitten after something goes wrong with the transporter and, look, it’s carthiatic okay!? Sue a guy for wanting to read a romance about a situation he identifies with! 

Steve looks up from the zine and startles. 

For a second his eyes go dark and flat, the same way Eddies and Robins and Nancy's and everyone's does when caught off guard. 

It's gone in a flash though, Steve visibly relaxing when he clocks that it's just Eddie. 

He keeps the zine pressed to his sweater clad chest,  and huffs out a laugh that's half forced and half pure relief.

“Fuck Eds, you scared me! I didn’t know you could be quiet.” 

“Uh huh.” Eddie manages, voice sounding totally and absolutely normal and not at all ten octaves higher than it usually is. 

They stare at each other for a second. Long enough that Steve's eyebrows crinkle in the middle, which is the first hint that he’s beginning to worry, and Eddie really cannot handle Steve being worried right now.  

“What's--” Eddie’s voice cracks and he coughs to recover. “what's that?” 

Steve frowns at him for a moment, until Eddie gestures at the zine in his hands. 

“Oh!”

Steve holds it up, as if to show it off. 

“It's a little book Robin got in the mail. It has a bunch of stories in it. They're normally boring as fuck but this one's from Star Trek.” 

Hearing the words ‘Star Trek’ out of Steve’s mouth shouldn’t be weird, not anymore, when Eddie and Dustin have been on a two man mission to nerdify Harrington as much as possible, but it still kicks like a mule to hear him say such things without any prompting. 

“You know what Star Trek is?”

“Eddie,” Steve tuts, tongue clicking in his mouth. “everyone knows what Star Trek is. It’s nerd shit, but like, old nerd shit. My grandparents used to watch it when I stayed over. This?” 

 He shakes the zine, so hard Eddie wants to snatch it away from him.

 “This isn't nerd shit. This is excellent.”

Steve gives the zine an appreciative glance and hell, maybe Eddie accidentally walked into another dimension. 

He’s been trying to get Steve to read more, rediscover the joys of books the public school system does its best to destroy, but until now Steve hasn’t really taken to it. 

Enjoys when Eddie reads aloud sometimes, and has started to bug Robin to do it for him too, but otherwise?

Eddie’s nerve seen him with anything that had the written word on it that wasn’t a cooking or car related magazine. 

“Honestly,” Steve’s saying, “I think Robs fucked up, this isn't her style at all. She’s gonna be pissed.” 

He eyes the thing appreciatively, like the gift it is. 

“I'm stealing it the second she figures that out.” He adds decisively. 

“You like it?” Eddie asks. 

“Mmm.” 

“Even though it's--it's got…Kirk…” 

Steve's frowning at him again. “What?” 

“It's queer man. It's really queer.” 

Steve peers at him, the crinkle back in his eyebrows. 

“I know. Wait, how do you--” 

And well. It’s now or never. 

“It's mine.” Eddie says in a rush.

“No it's not.” Steve scoffs, and okay, maybe this is a dream. Eddie pinched himself twice already, but perhaps a third time would wake him up?

(It does not.)

“it was even addressed to Robin. Well,” Steve has one hand on a hip now, his default position when arguing, “Robbie, but she goes by that sometimes.” 

Which Robin does, but not in the fucking mail.

Without a word, Eddie turns and goes for the envelope the zine came in. 

Steve follows, invading Eddie’s space to peer over his shoulder (and that’s Eddie’s fault too, that closeness, but he didn’t think it would be turned on him in a moment like this--) 

There's a sticker on the envelope’s label.

 It’s barely hanging on, half of it curled into the air.  Round and yellow, with little black lines, it becomes immediately obvious that one of Robin's smiley face stickers has migrated again. 

They're all over the apartment. Remnants of a phase she went through after she stole a roll of them from her and Steve’s job at a local toy store.

This one had clearly jumped ship from its original spot (likely on the ceiling somewhere), and was now firmly over the E in Eddie's name. 

‘Ddie’ still isn't exactly ‘Obbie’  but--

Steve leans around, snatching the envelope up and bringing it close to his face. 

Far too close, like he can't read it, eyes squinting as he examines the label--and suddenly Eddie knows exactly what happened. 

He laughs, an explosion of noise that's half hysterical and half disbelief. 

Steve looks at him. 

“What?” 

“Oh my God,” Eddie says, one finger jabbing in the air in the vague direction of Steve’s nose. “I told you you needed glasses!” 

“I do not!” Steve protests immediately, but his eyes are darting around the envelope. 

He’s scrambling to figure out what Eddie’s seeing, trying desperately to find a hole that can prove himself right. 

Eddie decides to help him, by plucking the smiley sticker off the envelope. 

“See?” He jeers, and shit okay, maybe his life isn’t over just yet. “It says Eddie, not Robbie!” 

“You guys have got to start using your government names for this shit.” Steve bitches, but it’s weak.

Eddie feels a grin coming on, and lets it overtake his face. 

“So...Kirk and Spock huh?” 

“They’re cute.” Steve defends instantly, before sighing his defeat and tossing the envelope on the table. 

The zine he keeps in his hands. 

Eddie crosses his arms and leans against their rickety table. “Even though they’re both guys?” 

“I thought we were past this!” Steve whines. “I went to a gay bar with Robin last weekend!” 

Which is news to Eddie. 

“You didn’t invite me?” He gasps, feigning hurt by putting a hand over his heart. 

Truthfully he still hasn’t fully recovered--is play acting himself, almost, but is rapidly coming around to the idea of Steve appreciating queer fanfiction. 

“We did!” Steve rolls his eyes so dramatically his whole head moves. “We absolutely did, You said,” 

Here Steve’s voice pitches into a mockery of Eddie’s  that he will not give him points for, even if it is a little hilarious, “Me? At some loser bar? Fuck no, I’ve got a campaign to write. Starbuck, don’t you have homework?” 

“I didn’t know that was a gay bar!” 

“You did! Robin told you!” 

“Okay well, I wasn’t listening!”  

“Clearly. I keep telling you we need a fucking--system or, I don’t know, a code word or something!”  

“Yeah well, when you wanna make us a safe word for conversations, big boy, you let me know.” 

They’re both laughing a little now, this argument veering into familiar territory, with Eddie not really listening and Steve mocking him for it later. (As well as vice versa, with startling regularity.) 

“You really like it though?”  Eddie says after the laughter winds down, gesturing to the zine still clutched in Steve’s hand. 

“Yeah.” Steve confirms, easy as he’s said anything else. Like this isn’t embarrassing, or almost worse than the time Wayne found Eddie’s porno mags and alphabetized them as a joke. 

“It's part of a mail tree. I’m supposed to send it on to the next person when I’m done with it. I make copies though,” Eddie rushes to add, because Steve is now clutching the little booklet to his chest in horror, as if Eddie was about to rip it out of his hands. “If you like I’ll show you my other ones?” 

Steve eases his grip, giving Eddie the little smile he makes that makes his stomach flip. 

“That’d be cool.” 

(Later, Steve pokes at Eddie’s thigh from where they’re both sprawled on Eddie’s bed, Steve having switched the new zine out for one of Eddie’s copies. “Are you going to laugh at me if I ask you to read some of these aloud?” 

“Only if you don’t laugh when I ask you to take me to that gay bar.” 

“Deal, but on the grounds you’re barred from making fun of my flirting attempts. Robin doing it was bad enough.” 

“Well you deserve it if you’re hitting on women at a gay bar, Stevie.” 

“I wasn't hitting on women you asshole.” Steve says and oh.

Oh.

Eddie feels the floor drop out from under him for the second time that day. 

At least this time it’s not fear that thunders through him, but possibility.) 

[darlingdaisyfarm]

feeling pretty low today, so i’m turning to these two old men for a little comfort

nsfw under the cut, fem!reader

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Stan likes to call you:

sweetheart, honeybun, doll face and on occasion baby girl. when he’s feeling extra bold? princess — always with that unmistakable smirk

calls you “my good luck charm" if you help him out in the Shack, especially when he’s trying to swindle a tourist and you flash a pretty smile.

✦ “c’mere, darlin’. can’t let a fine gal like you walk around without her prince.”

✦ “ah, y’know, you’re the only reason I don’t go completely nuts in this crazy town. sometimes, doll, I think yer my only sane thought all day.” said so casually as if it’s not gonna hit you right in the heart

✦ if you get hurt (even the tiniest scratch), he’s going into dad mode: “who do I gotta knock some sense into, huh?” even if you’ll tell him it was just a clumsy accident, he’ll grumble, “well, now I’m the one hurt. bein’ all worried like that. you’re killin’ me, kid.” 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Ford likes to call you:

“dearest” when he’s feeling soft, sweetheart, darling, honey, baby

he’ll whisper “love” against your temple when he thinks you’re drifting to sleep, his voice quiet and reverent like it’s sacred to him

starlight – Ford’s been out in those other dimensions, faced down monsters and madness, but he says he’s never found anything so bright, so grounding. “c’mere, starlight, I’m not finished admiring you.”

༄ “don’t laugh, but. . . I’d chase you across universes, even if it took me another thirty years. no dimension is worth exploring without you by my side.”

༄ if you’re reading one of his journals, Ford’ll slide up behind you, his hands on your shoulders as he murmurs, “curious, are we? so, what do you think of my work?”

༄ he’s not a show-off, not by any means, but catch him fixing up a machine? he’ll lift his gaze to you, smiling. “I could teach you, you know. but you’d have to be a very attentive student.”

༄ oh, if Ford wrote about you in his journal, you know it’d be scrawled between notes on trans-dimensional theories and arcane symbols, the ink smudged in places where he hesitated, where his pen hovered just so before he let himself write the truth

“Strange anomalies detected….. not in the temporal or metaphysical sense, but in a far more personal dimension. Subject exhibits an inexplicable gravitational pull, distinct from any gravitational force I've previously documented. When I observe her, I feel an uncharacteristic deviation in my thought patterns, an accelerated heartbeat not caused by heightened blood pressure or adrenaline, but by… attraction. Confounding. She’s somehow eclipsing the most rational parts of my mind.”

And, because Ford’s words can’t capture the whole of it, there’d be tiny sketches of you, like half-finished thoughts.

nsfw

what Stan says during sex:

“Damn, honey, you’re makin’ an old man feel young again. Don’t stop.”

“You’re makin’ me wanna be a better man, but not right now, baby, not right now.”  

“Mmm, there it is— yeahh, keep doin’ that. . . feels so good, darlin’, you got no idea.”

“Makin’ all these pretty noises, huh? Lemme hear ‘em, baby. Don’t hold back on me.”

“You’re somethin’ else, y’know that? I’m gonna be thinkin’ ‘bout that pussy all week.”  

“Fuckin’ hell, don’t know if I’m gonna last much longer with you doin’ that.”  

“Look at ya, so needy for me, beggin’ to be filled. You got me so riled up, I can barely think— ah, f-fuck. . .”

 Ford:

“Ohh— sweetheart, you feel even better than I imagined, i’ve waited for this.”  

“I need you so much it scares me.”  

“You’re brilliant, utterly captivating. . . yesyesyes, keep moving like that, please.”  

“Tell me exactly what you want, darlin, I need to hear you say it.”  

“I never thought I’d feel this way again; you’ve woken something in me.”  

“God, I can’t— can’t believe you’re letting me have you. I need you so much, it hurts.”

“Mmm, god, yes. . . yes, you’re mine, all mine. . . can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

“O-oh god, you feel so tight around me, sweetheart, I can’t-can’t hold back!”

“Please, oh, please— just, just like that, don’t stop, keep. . . keep going. . .”

“I can’t help myself; I need you. I want to feel you around me.”

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re like this. I can’t take my eyes off you.”

“Oh gosh, I need you to take me deeper. Please, baby.”

“Tell me how good it feels; I want to hear it.”

“You feel incredible. I could stay buried inside you forever.”

[arminsumi]

Gojo Satoru running in a downpour just to give you an umbrella

💗 さとる

Note : u know like in the s2 ending. it's 4:30 am the birds are chirping n here i am... writing cheesy gojo fluff lol. ignore errors... i'm sleep deprived 😭✌️

"Satoru... did you run all this way... in the rain?"

He's panting and desperately trying to catch his breath, bearing a half-smile at you. His uniform is completely soaked through. His shoes are leaky and his socks are squelchy with rainwater. His hair is completely flat-wet. Water drips off the ends of strands.

You and him are under the highway bridge, it shields you from the torrential rain, which he just rain through all the way from Jujutsu High.

"Y-yeah... well... only because y–you texted me saying... that you didn't... have an umbrella. So." he huffs, a rivulet of water dripping off his pointy chin.

You squint at him in disbelief. It's so funny.

This boy. This poor teenage boy. With noodly arms and legs and a poor posture. Just ran all this way here. To give you an umbrella.

Just to give you a damn umbrella.

"You're nuts."

He makes a smile at that. "I'm flattered you think so highly of me, Y/n."

A long silence passes.

He sucks in a breath and makes a sideways look.

"Uh... sooo... do I get like... a cheek kiss for this, or something? Maybe? ... please? No? Yes? Or an appreciative "thank you, 'Toru you're my knight in shining armour!" maybe? How about a—"

"No." you tease.

"Aw dang, I'll just go fuck myself then. We're divorcing. And I'm taking custody of the umbrella." He jokes.

He bends his back and knees to lower himself to your height, so he can make sure you get your share of cover under the transparent umbrella. You give him a sudden cheek kiss once he's lowered himself enough to be reachable for your lips.

He malfunctions. His brain has to actively register what just happened to his body. And then once it realizes he's just received a cheek kiss, his whole face starts to glow. His whole body freezes up.

He blushes boyishly. Because of course he would, he's just been kissed by his 3-year crush best friend.

But then he reassumes his annoying Gojo Satoru persona within a minute.

"Awww... you must like me."

"Shut up. And stop crouching like that. You'll scare a child."

"My future wife is so mean to me...! 😩"

"I'm not your "future wife", Satoru."

He sticks his tongue out at you. But then his playful tone suddenly drops. He looks at you. And he earnestly says;

"I will make sure that you are. No matter what... I wanna be yours."

[drefear]

Imagine reader artist, who loves to draw Miguel. And the other day she's just drawing naked Miguel's body. He saw it and just smirks and say: "I've got bigger than that" or "I could show/pose for accuracy"

TW: raunchy smut, Dom!miguel, fem reader, smut with no plot.

A/N: I wrote half of this while at work and a little drunk. So here ya go. Also currently in the process of writing a part two.

Miguel’s face filled your sketchbook, his back in his spider suit, his mask, every angle you could find him at. You often sat in his office for hours while he did reports, sketching him and drawing him. You loved using different mediums and colors, giving him new features and styles. You specifically loved practicing drawing his broad body and sculpted as-

Ahem. Legs.

Yes, ok, fine, you had a small crush on your boss, whatever, no big deal.

You would purposefully finish all of your work as fast as possible so you could sit back and draw him. And because you weren’t loud or annoying, and everything was always done on time and orderly, he let you.

But one mission in particular made him stressed out, and as you watched him filling out data about the anomaly he’d just captured, he glitched his suit down his torso and injected himself with that mysterious green liquid, entrancing you for those glorious few seconds.

It was very obvious he had a nice body, duh. But you never let your mind go too far in imagining him out of his suit, scared to go into a territory you couldn’t back out of.

And now you did, drawing his torso and pecks, shading his abs, and this got you curious about more.

Lower.

Biting your lip, you sat in the cafeteria a few days later. You purposefully sat with your back to a wall, making sure no one could sneak up on you and see what you were drawing, as you drew him laying down. His arms splayed behind his head, face relaxed, as you defined his leg muscles. As you finished the piece of art, the only area you’d avoided was his groin.

And now you stared at the empty area of art, knee bouncing from anxiety about how you were supposed to draw this. You had no reference for him. Yes, you’d seen dicks before, obviously. You lived in a universe with unrestricted internet access, so it’s not like you’d never been around the block, but here you were, blushing like a 15 year old just because of a dick.

Drawing and then erasing and drawing, you repeated the process a few times before you heard someone click their tongue in front of you. You’d been so consumed by what you were doing, you didn’t even feel your spider senses or hear them come close.

Miguel stood with an eyebrow raised and his hands on his hips, eyeing you curiously. “Why are you so jumpy?” He asked and you snatched the book in front of you to your chest, stuttering some bullshit answer about too much caffeine. He just nodded and continued giving you a new order.

You got up from your seat and moved to follow him to his cold, dark lair area. As you were about to step onto his platform, you tripped and your hands flew out to stabilize your fall. As you did, the notebook flew across the floor and slid as your vision blurred from how fast you’d collapsed, getting up slowly and rolling your shoulders. You reached to where the sketch book had fallen, but it was no longer there.

No.

NO.

It was between his fingers, as he flipped through the pages slowly, eyeing your work with his brows furrowed, focused. You jumped towards him and he just turned his back, making you feel like you ran into a wall. You reached around him and he webbed your wrist to the table beside you, still not tearing his eyes from your work.

“Stop, that’s private! Give it back!” You shouted and he rolled his eyes briefly.

“It’s all drawings of me, I think I’m allowed to see-“ and his words stopped as he flipped to the newest page.

The nude drawing of him.

You gulped as his expression became unreadable, stoic, and your eyes flashed between the art and him. “I-I was just practicing forms and poses-“

“It’s… inaccurate.” He spoke lowly before your eyes blinked for a moment, confused.

“What do you mean?”

He walked to you and stood tall, bending down slightly to stare directly into your eyes. His mouth turned up at the ends and his eyes glittered with something you’d never seen in him before.

Turning the book back to you and showing you your own drawing, he smirked deeper.

“I’m much bigger.” His eyes were almost challenging you, making your blood run ice cold, and you felt his hands yank your body against his. “Do you want to see for reference?”

And then his watch made a loud sound, Lyla popping up to explain some anomaly on earth number whatever. He groaned and turned to walk out. “I’ll be back once this is done. Don’t go anywhere because When I do return, we’re continuing where we left off.”

Then he was gone and you stood, mouth agape from the whole exchange. You thought it might take a while for him to capture this anomaly, so You’d decided to go back to your own universe in preparation, showering and fixing yourself up. You bit your nail nervously as you thought about it all. Was he serious? No way, right…?

As you stood in the bathroom mirror, the sound of a portal opening cut through your mind like a knife, making your body rush into your living room. You gripped the towel tight around your torso as you saw Miguel walk out of the colorful dimension behind him and into yours. The portal closed and with that, his mask disintegrated so you could see his face. A bit tired, he still had a less-than-enthusiastic expression on.

“I thought I told you not to go anywhere.” He repeated and you stood stuff as a board, now a bit scared. He took slow, calculated steps towards you as your head tilted back to continue watching him. “Inaccurate and disobedient. I have a lot to teach you, don’t I?” His index finger hooked under your chin as he smirked and grabbed your hand with his free one, pulling you into your bathroom. He looked around for a second before hitting a button on his watch and letting the fabric disappear.

You bit your lip as your eyes took full advantage of his exposed skin. “You- it-“

“Yeah. I know.” He grabbed your wrist and spun you around, bending you over your counter with your hand breached against your back. “Now I want you to really study how I fuck you, so that you get a good look at how big I am, and how easy I can maneuver this body.” He whispered into your damp hair and pushed down, then ripping the towel away and throwing it out of the bathroom completely.

His eyes stared down at your weeping cunt and he licked his lips. “I’ll be tasting you another time. Today, I want you to really feel my size.” He was cocky, and he had a right to be. His dick was huge, almost alarmingly big.

The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance and you clenched your jaw. “It’s gonna hurt, but I’ll go slow. That way you can feel good and still learn.” He cooed in a teasing tone and your eyes found his in the mirror, watching intently as he began to push into you. The sudden width he was stretching you to was mind numbing and your knees began to buckle, but he just held you up with one hand, the other still guiding himself into you.

“Coño, your sucking me in so nicely, might not even need to slow down.” He spoke and your eyes were rolling back from his words, to which you snapped out of once his hand that was holding you up held your face harshly towards the mirror. “No slacking, little girl. You better keep your eyes on my cock.”

Halfway inside, and you were already fluttering around him, on the verge of orgasm. “That’s it, sucia, cum on my cock. It’ll be the first time of many.” You shivered at his words, feeling him sink in further and immediately orgasming. The rolls of pleasure washing through you made him grunt as his hips couldn’t help but rut into you harshly. The lack of prep had you feeling everything he was giving you, hyper aware of your insides wrapping around him.

“Mm, wanna fuck me back? Grind back onto my cock? Paciencia, Nena.” He instructed as you kept trying to get him in further. Wrapping a hand around your torso, he tweeked at your nipples and made you gasp from the sensation. “That’s it,” he mumbled.

Finally, smirked, he chuckled darkly as you tried once more to thrust backwards. “Fine, you asked for it.” He met your eyes in the mirror, now blood red and swirling with the threat as he snapped his hips forward and forced the rest of him into you, making you gargle out a strained sound in shock and pleasure. The pain was beautiful, and began to subside quickly as you felt him twitch. He hit every spot and more, feeling new depths and points of pleasure.

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes as he started a slightly faster pace. Your body jiggled from the movements and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled your apartment, your mouth hanging open as your eyes never left were his dick was buried into you. He smiled, enjoying the way you watched his cock disappear into you over and over, and you felt the pressure building once more. How he bullied your cunt and grinned while doing it made you burst, tears breaking free and a scream ripping through you as your pussy squeezed him.

“Fuck, so tight.” He groaned, head now falling back and he kept going, beginning to chase his own high. Your mind had shut off now, fucked practically stupid on his cock and he rocking into you mercilessly. His speed was unmatched and he moved to pick up your hips to meet his, closing the gap your height difference had created, and finally having him slam into you until his hips met your ass, making you choke on your own oxygen from the absolute brutal beating he was giving your cervix.

He slid one hand to the back of your neck and pressed you further into the counter top of your sink, forcing your pert nipples to meet the cold marble and you cried out more, barely able to push back against him now as you were trapped between his body and your bathroom’s confinements with only your top toes touching the floor. Your face was streaked with tears as he grunted and let out ragged breaths.

“The perfect little pussy, so perfect for my cock. You can take it, little artist. You wanted to draw my cock so badly, now you have the perfect image to do it. Fucked deep inside of you. Draw us like this for me, yeah? I wanna see it everyday. Or should I just fuck you every day instead?” His words tumbled from his mouth like an avalanche and you could feel his cock about to burst, making you teeter over that cliff as well. “That’s it, strangle my cock. Cum all over me, niña, paint me with your cute cunt.” He demanded and you obliged, feeling a shooting electric sensation rip out of you. Suddenly, you were both a bit wet between the thighs and he was mesmerized by what he saw. Your juices squirt all over him and he came instantly after seeing that, pounding into you as far as he could and forcing his cum the deepest it could be inside of you.

Both of you were unmoving as you caught your breath, a layer of sweat covering you both as you stared at each other in the mirror. No words could describe what had just happened and Miguel smiled once more, which prompted you to ask.

“What?”

“You need to get a mirror by your bed. Because I want to do this to you every day.” He watched your eyes widen in the mirror in front of you both as he licked your neck from behind and sinking his fangs into your soft skin, jutting his hips once more and making you realize he was still hard.

“For art purposes.”

Part two is out!

[hephaestiions]

For what it’s worth, Draco tries not to be in love with him.

Once the war ends, the world is dim and hazy and wild. For two months, it rains incessantly in Wiltshire. Draco watches his mother’s rose garden flag and flutter, run amok with weeds and ivy from his bedroom window. He spends May and June not doing much of anything but staring— out the window, at his ceiling, at his parents when they try to coax him to dinner. House arrest is not a death sentence, but Draco is empty and vacant and a little dead anyway.

He thinks of Harry sometimes. Harry, limned in fire on a broom, reaching for him, Harry, dead, not dead, clambering to his feet, wand raised, calling the Dark Lord Tom, Harry, who had met his eyes over the Aurors’ shoulders as they handcuffed him to accompany him to the Manor until the Wizengamot had the time to figure out what to do with the Malfoys. Harry, and the world winces into sharper focus, bleak and dull and unbearable. Draco tries, for all he’s worth, not that it’s much, to stop thinking of Harry when that happens.

There’s the trial. Harry Potter is in a suit, his hair damp and brushed and unfamiliar. He speaks for Draco and his mother. Draco recognises the image of Narcissa emerging in Harry’s testimony— haughty and determined and fearful and loving, a mass of contradictions worthy of exoneration after the payment of some hefty fines. His own image he recognises in snapshots and flashes— scared, yes, Merlin, yes, indoctrinated from a young age, that too, in the grip of something bigger than himself, yes, he’s never felt so small. There are other things Harry says, new, like an ill-fitted outfit hanging off him— brave when it mattered, really? and never killed anyone, technically true but the intent was there all through sixth year, doesn’t he deserve to be punished for that? and helped in bringing down the fall of Tom Riddle at great personal risk, a tall order at best, an embellished lie at worst.

Harry believes in a man Draco isn’t sure he ever was. The Wizengamot seems to believe him, and he’s exonerated too, with a magic-monitoring charm on his wand for eighteen months.

No one testifies for Lucius. He goes to Azkaban. Draco watches, dispassionate, as the Aurors handcuff his father again. Lucius watches him back, equally dispassionate. “Take care of your mother,” he says before he’s pulled away, and Draco manages a short, tight nod. That’s that.

Love, or the situation about Harry Potter as Draco takes to calling it, begins two more months after the trials.

“Malfoy,” says Harry, the picture of wide-eyed surprise. They’re in a bar on Knockturn. Pansy, Blaise and Theo finally dragged him here, Draco you need to leave that stuffy old Manor for your own good.

“Harry Potter,” Draco says, because he can’t bring himself to call him Potter anymore, and Harry sounds awkward outside his head.

“It’s good to see you,” says Harry, a sudden grin stretching across his face. Draco has to blink the light of it out of his eyes. “You’re looking better.”

It starts then, in the bar. The stirrings of life in a dead man. It’s annoying and brutal and the kind of thing that keeps Draco waking up and getting himself out of bed every morning and the nightmares occasionally at bay.

They run into each other at the bar, over and over, and each time, Harry begins conversation. Each time, it lasts a few minutes longer, until they’re spending half an hour or more chatting over drinks at the counter. Or, rather— Harry chats, Draco listens and tries not to let his heart spring out of his chest. Each time, Pansy looks considering, Blaise rolls his eyes and Theo peers studiously into his drink when he comes back. Draco wonders if Harry’s friends have their own set of patented reactions and if they’re half as lenient as his friends’.

Draco starts sleeping with Theo about it, eventually. Which is to say Draco starts sleeping with Theo hoping the sex will take his mind off dark hair and green eyes and that rapid, quicksilver smile. It doesn’t help that Theo has dark hair and blue eyes, and smiles at Draco like the sun. It makes him ache with want and loss, and the sex is great, but Draco has to end it within a few weeks.

“It’s Potter, isn’t it,” Theo says when Draco tells him.

There’s no point denying it, so Draco doesn’t. “It’s not you,” he says, and Theo’s lightly amused baleful glare is enough for their friendship to remain stable, if a little stilted.

Blaise takes him shopping and Pansy brings him alcohol and when Greg starts stepping out of his house again, he tells Draco awkwardly, “Well, Potter’s missing out, isn’t he?” Millicent, who starts coming to pub nights gives Draco a once-over and tells him he needs to get a job. Daphne tries to set him up with her sister, and takes it astonishingly terribly when Draco tells her he’s sure Astoria’s lovely, but has an entirely wrong set of bits.

“You should be more open minded,” she tells him, sniffing. “Astoria‘s open minded!”

Draco can only think to blink at her.

Harry’s in the papers almost every day. Sometimes because he gives speeches, but mostly because The Prophet’s society section can’t think to write anything better than “Harry Potter spotted in Diagon’s Sunday Market, with turnips! Turn to page 6 for seven delicious recipes that make fresh and inventive use of the Chosen One’s Chosen Veg!”

It’s all well and good except for the part where the accompanying photos of Harry, scowling or blank or frustrated or very occasionally, smiling at children, sends Draco’s body into overdrive. He finds himself tracing the line of Harry’s mouth, the tops of his cheekbones, his hairline. He thinks his mother notices, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Would you like to get a drink sometime?” Harry asks.

They’re not at the bar. They’re in a cafe and Draco is reading a horrible romance novel at the window.

“We get drinks all the time,” Draco says. He wants to step on his own toes.

“Yeah,” Harry says, laughing. He runs his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, course, just— I was wondering if you maybe wanted to. You know. Just us.”

“Just us?”

“Forget it,” Harry says, and sighs. He turns away and turns back. “It was good seeing you, Malfoy.” He turns away again.

“Harry,” Draco says. The look on Harry’s face when he turns back again is wide-eyed surprise again, like that first time in the bar. “I— a drink sounds lovely.”

Harry looks uncertainly pleased.

“Just not on Knockturn,” Draco says.

“We could go to Hogsmeade,” Harry says. He’s— the ridiculous man— bouncing on the balls of his feet, fidgety and buoyant and beautiful. “Or London. The Muggle bit. Or Diagon, really, but the reporters—” He grimaces.

I’ll go anywhere with you, Draco wants to say. “Anywhere,” he says instead, hacked short and inadequate.

But Harry smiles at him like he’s the sun. The persistent ache throbbing through Draco abates for a moment.

So this is peace, Draco thinks. Meets Harry’s smile with his own, wonders how Harry thinks it looks. There you are.

for the @drarrymicrofic prompt, “cranes in the sky”. this is a little all over the place and i’m not particularly happy with it, but here’s a decidedly-not-microfic about failing at not being in love with harry james potter. oh draco, you’re exactly like me.

[soggyriceee]

strawberry | Konig nsfw

| this one is a smut, but also angst. basically, Konig gets you to use your safe word for the very first time after being gone for a year in the German base. so, I hope you all enjoy :) |

warnings: rough sex, crying (not good kind) angst, aggressive konig, not edited, will be edited in the morning

╰┈➤

Konig was always gentle during sex. and it a hundred percent had to do with the fact he was literally twice your height and then some. yes he left hickeys, small small bruises on your hips from his grasp, left your legs a bit wobbly. but those were normal considering his size. and even when you reassured him you liked that, he would always apologize profusely, getting you anything you need for hours and hours after.

but tonight, he was a whole other man. he wasn't the same kind and giving Konig. and to an extent you liked the new dominance, the new aggression. it was hot.

until it wasn't.

Konig had been between your legs, fingering and eating you out for about an hour. he was hungry, and not for edible food. he was hungry for you. that sweet pussy of yours, your tight cunt gripping his fingers or dick. he missed it while he was back in Germany for some mission he had given you little information about. all you knew was he was in the middle of Germany, killing potential threats.

already you had came 4 times (that he allowed). he was so pussy drunk, he hadn't realized the tears that brimmed those pretty eyes. in fact, his eyes were closed, his lower half grinding into the bed. you were sure he had already came in his pants at least twice at this point. he would occasionally whimper into you pussy, his hips moving faster against the bed. " fuck ive missed this pussy maus.. you dont even understand." he said into your drenched cunt. a mix of saliva and cum ran down your legs, a big puddle underneath the both of you.

"k-konig can we.. take a break please." you cried from above, your legs shaking despite his mouth simply on your thighs, leaving more and more marks. he nipped at the soft flesh of yours after those words came out, a low growl leaving his lips. " how dare you ask such a question?" he rose, pulling his pants down. and you were right.

his dick was layered in his cum, more of it dripping out from the tip. he was so agonizingly hard, he couldnt bare to fuck into the bed anymore. he needed what he dreamt of every night since leaving. and he needed it now. "imma fuck my babies into you liebling.. make you swollen with them." he said, almost to himself, as he grabbed the base of him, looking down at your pussy.

as much as you wanted him to rearrange your guts, you were drained. he had made you so overstimulated, you could barely form thoughts. it was hard trying to even raise your head from the pillow. but he didnt care. he hadn't realized it before, but as much as he does want to cherish your body like its a rare piece of art from olden times, worth millions of dollars, he loved seeing you fucked out just as much. he loved seeing how he had complete control over your body and there was nothing you could do. it sparked a whole new person in him, one that you were quickly growing scared of.

before you could process his tip sliding slowly into you with ease, his hips were already slamming into yours, his balls hitting your cum soaked ass with so much force, the sound filled the room. your hands clutched onto his shoulders for dear life, your eyes squeezing shut. " you look so fucking pretty maus.. so fucking pretty. all fucked out like this.. shit~" he groaned, his eyes watching your face twist in what he believed was pleasure.

and for a bit it was. until he raised your leg all the way up, leaving the other down. your leg fell over his shoulder and your arms flopped to your side. he was hitting directly at your cervix and it hurt. but he was in so much pleasure. his head fell back as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his lips spitting out dirty phrases in both English and German.

and of course, being away from sex for a year, Konig was beyond sensitive. he came for the first time within the first few thrusts, his head falling into your bruised breasts, whimpering out how good it feels. but that didnt stop him. he kept going.

his hand found its way to your throat, gripping it unintentionally hard. with the mix of tears and now the shortness of breath, it was all a lot on your body physically. Konig had gotten to carried away inside your pussy, the way it sucked him back in. "fuck maus.. your s-so wet.. im close again~" he whimpered, his lips latching to your breasts to find space to mark it yet again.

at this point you were literally going in and out of vision. his grip on you grew tighter as he released yet another load into you. you too felt your pussy leaking, unaware of the knot that was in your stomach. you were feeling too many things at once that you ended up going completely numb. you whimpered below him, trying to find anything to get him to realize that you needed a break. but the tears that fell from your eyes only made him wanna fuck you more.

he slid out, watching the mixture of cum literally pour out of you. your thighs were soaked and red from the constant biting and nibbling a few moments ago. your face was red as well from the lack of oxygen. he let go of your neck, licking his lips as if he was deciding what to do with you next. all he knew, was that he wanted to keep fucking you.

he grabbed your legs and pressed them together and into your chest. immediately you felt his dick slide right in, going at his fast pace yet again. "k-konig please- I-i cant" you managed to choke out, your head hitting the bed frame with each thrust he gave you. this was when the fun for you ended. it only made him more and more horny, seeing you tap out so soon after he began to fuck you.

the look in his eyes was not the same look when he came home, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand as he ran up to you, lifting you off the ground and placing kisses all over your face. no. this look was dangerous. it was almost like it was the same look he had on the battle field.

his hand went back to your throat, his head tilting to the side slightly. "shut up a-and fucking.. take it. I know.. you missed this a-as much as me." he growled, moving his hips only faster and deeper. but you couldnt take it. you truly couldnt take it.

by the time you felt your 6th orgasm approaching, you began to see white light in the corners of your eyes, and you knew you were truly at your limit. "s-strawberry" you tried to say as loud as you could. but the sounds of your cunt and konigs whimpers, he couldnt hear you. his thrusts kept going until you felt him release inside you again, his grip on your throat enough to snap your throat. and at that same time, what you though was impossible happened. you had the most painful orgasm ever, your body feeling like it was going to shut down entirely. it was like you had nothing else to give.

""fuck libeling.. gimme one more.. be a good girl." he whispered breathlessly, his hips beginning to once again, move. this time slower but still deep. but you physically couldn't take it.

once you felt yourself begin to doze off from the lack of oxygen and overstimulation, you were finally able to coherently and loudly say, 'strawberry'.

╰┈➤

you woke up about a half hour later, your throat sore and body just as sore. you tried to turn but your legs gave you a painful sign to stay put. thats when it all came back what had happened. of course, it made tears well up in your eyes. you'd just seen a side of Konig you never thought you'd see. a side of him he kept hidden from you.

you stayed completely still, looking into nothing until you heard sniffles coming from the floor behind you. of course, you tried to move but it hurt. but eventually you were able to turn to your side, a few pained moans leaving you every now and then. thats when your eyes landed on Konig sitting on the floor, head in his hands as tears seeped through his fingers.

"Konig?" you said, wincing right after. but he didnt look up. he kept his head in his hands, his chest rising and falling quick. and you knew what this was. you'd been with him for so long, you knew exactly what he was going through based off his body. but as much as you wanted to help him, you genuinely couldnt feel your legs. "please come here.. I cant get up. let me hold you." you said, reaching your hand out. but still, nothing.

you felt a pain in your chest watching him like this, unable to do anything. you wanted to help him, reassure him that everything is okay. but words only do so much for him, he needed you to physically show him everything was okay. "Konig please I-" "I h-hurt you. im s-so s-sorry." he spoke out, hyperventilating throughout all. he began to rock on the floor, crying harder into his hands.

hearing him cry, it made you want to cry with him. especially since, you couldnt do anything but try and talk to him. "Konig please." you tried reasoning with him. but he couldnt get himself off the floor. thats when you decided to drag yourself off the bed, no matter how much pain you felt. you knew that yes you needed help too, but you weren't gonna get any if your help was having a panic attack.

once you got to the end of the bed, you crawled off of it slowly, your hands hitting the ground first, legs second. you groaned at the light impact, but still dragged yourself over to Konig. he was shaking when you got to him, his cries not stopping, even when you rested your hand on his foot. "Konig please stop crying.. look im okay. im alive." "but you almost weren't." he was looking up now. seeing his red puffy eyes broke your heart. and seeing you, looking lifeless and not responding to him made him even more worried for you than you were for him. the only thing that kept him going was your pulse, and barely that.

"I-i almost k..killed-" he couldnt finish his sentence before sobbing into his hands again, shaking his head. your head dropped, you didnt know what to say. you'd never experienced this issue with Konig, with anyone before. you'd never had to use your safe word and you never expected to. "Konig.. can you look at me?" you finally spoke, your voice stern.

he looked up at you, wiping his eyes. " it was an experience, okay? yes it was scary and yes it could've gone wrong. but it was a could've situation, not a did happen situation. as much as I want to help you feel better, I cant do that if I cant see you, and talk to you like I am now." your hand took his, squeezing gently. he sniffled and nodded, looking straight into you. " right now, I need help too. so lets help each other feel better." you said, smiling softly at him.

he looked down at your neck, some of the hickies leaving behind dried blood or bite marks. some even both. his heart dropped as he ran his eyes down your body again, the thsirt he put on you the second he realized you had passed out, barely covering the similar marks on your thighs. "im.. im so sorry maus.." he whispered, shaking his head.

you smiled and grabbed his face, leaning in as slow as you could as to not hurt yourself, leaving small kisses on his cheek. " I love you Konig, okay? you got a bit carried away. you've been gone a year. its normal. unexpected, but I understand. just please, next time-" "ill treat you like your made of glass libeling." he finished, grabbing your face.

Konig knew deep down, he'd never forgive himself for this. for putting you in danger like that, for turning into the man he was on the battlefield. he'd never forgive himself, no matter how many times you told him it was okay. it wasn't. and he felt worse about being the one on the floor crying instead of showering you in love.

he stood, grabbing you with such ease into his arms, flipping you bridal style. you clung to his neck, smiling at him. "lets go give you a bath, ill order your favorite food. or I can cook. then we can watch that show you've been watching. we can do anything you want maus.. I love you." he said, walking towards the connected bathroom.

and you both did just that. the rest of the night you stayed in, cuddling and watching your favorite shows. as bedtime grew closer for you both, he began to clean the marks along your body, kissing each one and apologizing after them all. he felt so bad, and he was willing to go above and beyond, and even then some, to make you feel like the beautiful princess you were.

[justauthoring]

tears.

tears -> the blood of the soul; where the soul bleeds, you cry.

a/n -> okay can we PLEASE talk about that finaleeeee

pairing -> sanemi shinzagawa x f!reader

oddly, you're more afraid then you thought you'd be.

despite it all, you had believed you were prepared for it—the final battle. given that you'd been working towards this point since that fateful day you joined the demon slayers. years of training, of missions, of pouring blood and sweat and losing loved and cared ones that all lead to this battle.

and yet, you were afraid.

terrified, even, you think. if the shakiness of your hands are anything to go by, you'd venture to guess that yes, terrified sounded more accurate than just afraid. it feels like your heart hasn't stopped pounding against your chest since the hashira meeting nor that you've been able to properly catch your breath.

always short, always gasping—you're desperate for any sense of calm that won't come because the mind was cruel. and reality was even more so.

you'd faced death so many times now that you'd believed this one last, final time wouldn't matter as much. a necessary step that would decide fate once and for all. it was this last battle, you figured, that would decide who came out on top.

but maybe it isn't dying that scares you. yes, you think, it isn't that you're afraid of dying but that you're afraid of—

"i swear, none of those damn idiots will have the slightest clue on how to even begin training—"

it isn't abnormal for sanemi to come in complaining about something or another. what is odd is the tears he's faced with the second he walks in, lips left parted as he cuts himself off. the concern that floods his gaze is instant and all previous thoughts are gone from sanemi's mind as he rushes over to you.

"y/n?" his voice is soft in a way it only ever is with you and strangely, it makes your heart pound more frantically against your chest. "what's wrong?"

his hands are pressing against your cheeks, pulling your watery gaze steadily on his own. you feel your lip tremble and a shaky gasp pulls from your lips, beyond your control, the second your eyes focus in on his own.

you have half the mind to think that you should lie, that it's not fair to burden sanemi with your own childish fears. you do think it, but you lose your own battle the second you feel his thumb graze the skin of your cheek and take in the expression of worry and concern, blazingly present, in his eyes.

"i'm scared," you admit breathlessly. it's hard to admit, even to him, hard enough to even realize it subconsciously and the words feel wrong and like poison—yet, they're true all the same.

and your hands instinctively raise, pressing into him for any semblance of comfort you can steal from him. you haven't felt such terror since the day demons cruely ripped everything you hold dear from your hands—since you were coated in blood and forever petrified from the horrors of their corpses.

"i... i'm afraid of losing you."

it's a ghosted whisper—you don't want to say the words and put the pressure of that desperation on sanemi's shoulders. he has more than enough weight holding him down and you'd never want to add to it on purpose. but you're tongue is lose and your fear is blinding your rational thought and when he looks at you like that, you don't want to lie.

sanemi's hands are firm and never wavering, and as he cups your cheeks he forces you to refocus on him and solely him.

"y/n. y/n."

you stared at him with blurred vision, breath gasping and nails pinching into the clothe of his yukata; you grip him as if he'll disappear from your very touch that moment alone.

"y/n, look at me."

he's leaning, pressing his forehead against your own and swallowing your attention up so there's nothing but him to focus on.

"breathe," he guides, voice gentle but hoarse and rough. "you need to breathe."

you force yourself to listen. force yourself to inhale when he does, soothing yourself by following his movements until, slowly, the fog clears to allow you to see sanemi before you clearly. it still feels like you're short, still missing that last bit of air that would calm you, but it's better than it had been seconds prior and you savour the sanity of it completely.

"good," he praises, brushing your hair away from your face where it'd fallen.

you shake your head; "sanemi—"

"it's okay," he assures, the words just a little too rushed in a way that causes you to blink. it gives you the momentum to notice the slight, barely noticeable tremble of sanemi's hands against your cheeks or the echoing breaths he lets outs himself.

your eyes widen and you step towards him.

"i'm scared too," he admits.

it's admission that means more than anything else could've. in all your years of knowing sanemi, he's always chosen anger and passion over calm and truth. he'd never ever admit to anyone that he, the wind hashira, was scared of anything—he was all fire and strength, racing into battle with skill he'd bled over perfecting and came out the other side a winner.

he had the confidence to boost it. never wavering in his own ability.

so his admittance of fear is enough to pull you from your own racing thoughts and focus on the fear he lets slip—if anything, for your sake.

"but this is what we're trained for," he reminds, fingers brushing against your skin—soothing and a constant, pressing reminder of his presence. you're more than thankful for it. "and it's our duty as hashira to defeat muzan."

you nod, slow, unsure. "i know," you whisper, "i know. it's just..." and your grip tightens, knuckles white and hands still trembling, gripping his clothes in your palm and trying to be as close to him as possible. "i don't want to lose you."

"i don't want to lose you either," sanemi breathes.

you stare into his gray, swirling eyes, lips pressed tightly together.

"i can't promise you we'll make it through this, but know that i will fight like hell to get back to you."

you blink, the tears welling as his words mean more than sanemi could ever possibly know. despite it's brutal honesty, those words are exactly what you need to hear in that moment.

because there is no other option. sanemi is right when he says it's your duty and you have every intention of following through, even if it lead to your death — but the sincerity in his voice as he promises to do anything in his ability to see you on the other side...

it's all you need to hear.

"and i hope you'll do the same."

"of course," you nod, not wasting a second before assuring him of that fact. you press your forehead against his own, lips hovering before his, and sink into him as much as you possibly can. "of course i will. i promise."

he's nodding, the words loss on him as he relishes in your presence just as much as you have been his.

and then, when his lips press against your own, you savour it — not because it might be your last, but because it'll be your strength to make sure it isn't.

[hemmingsleclerc]

Holidays┃max verstappen

summary: Max and his family go to disney orlando <3

  ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳១୨୧ ༘✰ ༘ ˚ ˚ ༘ ‧₊˚𖧧  ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳១୨୧  ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖

Max was sitting behind the wheel of the family Mercedes, with Google Maps marking the route to Disney Orlando. Next to him sat Y/n , his longtime girlfriend, with a big smile on her face as she looked at her three children in the rearview mirror. Thomas, the eldest, (seven years old), had his face lit up as he watched the view out the window, Harry, (five), talked excitedly about all the attractions he wanted to go to, and little Aurora, just four years old, hugged happily her stuffed animal.

"Ready, everyone?" Max called out, earning a chorus of enthusiastic little "yes!" from the back seats.

The trip was full of laughter and fun games. As they drove, the kids chatted non-stop about all the attractions they wanted to go to and the characters they hoped to meet.

When they arrived, the view of the park was enough to make even Max excited. They parked and headed towards the entrance, Aurora was firmly attached to Max's hip who carried her while Thomas and Harry clung to Y/n's hands.

The first stop was the gift shop, where the real fun began. Thomas saw a Mickey Mouse hat and excitedly put it on his head. Harry chose a Goofy hat, laughing at the floppy ears. Aurora's eyes lit up when she saw a Rey costume from Star Wars and she excitedly held it up for Max to see.

"Can I get it, daddy? Please?" she pleaded, her eyes wide with hope.

"Of course, angel," Max replied, smiling as he looked for the size that would fit Aurora. She spun around, showing off her new outfit with pride, and became even more excited to see her mother coming to her with a lightsaber to complement her costume.

While strolling through the park, the family met various characters, collected autographs, and took countless photographs. Aurora squealed with joy when she saw Rey (and Anakin)and insisted on taking a photo with her, while Thomas and Harry took photos with every Marvel character they could find.

When it was time for the roller coasters, Max found himself in a difficult situation. Despite driving a car more than 200 kilometers, some of the Disney attractions were more than he expected. At the Tower of Terror, Max tightened his grip on the safety bar as the elevator descended, his eyes widening in fear and screaming in horror. Aurora, sitting next to him, laughed and patted his arm reassuringly, clearly enjoying the ride more than her father.

"Come on, daddy, it's fun!" Aurora laughed, her bright eyes shining with excitement.

Y/n couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Max looking more terrified than his four-year-old daughter. "Having fun, darling?" she teased as they exited the ride.

"Loads," he replied, forcing a smile and trying to shake off the adrenaline.

The rest of the day was filled with more fun. Thomas and Harry dragged Y/n on every roller coaster they could find, their energy seemed endless. Max stayed with Aurora, going to calmer games for her age, and whom he occasionally picked up to see the parades and fireworks.

A particularly fun time was on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. As the boat plunged over a small waterfall, Max let out an involuntary scream, much to the amusement of his children. Thomas and Harry couldn't stop laughing, and even Aurora joined in, clapping her hands in joy.

When they arrived at their hotel room, the children were exhausted but happy while Aurora was full asleep and Max carried her. Thomas and Harry snuggled into their bed , who were already half asleep, while Max tucked Aurora into her bed.

As he settled into bed next to Y/n, Max couldn't help but feel grateful for those moments with his beautiful family. Despite the scares, the day had been perfect.

"We should do this more often," he murmured, putting an arm around Y/n and closing his eyes.

"I totally agree," she replied softly, snuggling closer to him.