#There's a lot more pros than a lot of other shows in the genre I think

[onlyhuis]

pro bono

member — lawyer!wonwoo x lawyer!reader genre — smut, fwb to ?? word count — 1.1k synopsis — you and your coworker jeon wonwoo have been working on this case for months. now that it's finally over, he shows you that "for the public good" doesn't mean that he can't be good for you, too. aka: lawyer wonwoo fucking coworker reader after winning a case smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, prone bone (the title is a pun hehe), creampie (shocker i know!), spanking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, mirror sex, coworkers fwb!wonu, gratuitous descriptions of how wide wonu's shoulders are just because i can notes — requested by @junhuisms sorry this took so long bff </3 — lots of love to @onlymingyus for proofreading !! — probably some legal inaccuracies bc i know nothing about the law i'm just here to fuck the hot man so go easy on me pls. i really meant for this to be a longer fic but it's been in my docs for almost a year and i've been trying to not pressure myself to write a certain amount so i hope this is still able to live up to your expectations :) i know i've been pretty mia recently but i'm trying to get back into the swing of things so feedback is super super appreciated! hope you enjoy! note #2 — tumbly still hates me and is super finnicky about putting my posts in the tags so i haven't been able to use my regular divider image bc it bugs out :(( i've tried everything i'm sorry but pls lmk how you like this new one!

you’d been working on this case for months, and it had been one to make or break your career. weeks upon weeks of research, reviewing documents and studying laws to make sure your arguments were seamless.

the upside to all this work, however, was that you got to know your coworker wonwoo better, who you’d been assigned to work on the case with. and by “get to know him,” what you really meant was “get railed every night after work”.

and tonight, after the trial had wrapped up and the court’s final decision had ruled in your favor, you found yourself where you’d grown accustomed to spending all your nights: in his penthouse apartment, and more specifically, in his bed.

the floor-length mirror in his room was one of your favorite things, because no matter what position you were in or how you were angled, you could always see wonwoo. see his broad shoulders, see his muscles flexing, see his abs tensing right before he cums; and god, it drives you crazy.

but it drives him even more crazy as he fucks you into his mattress, watching in the mirror’s reflection how your eyes are squeezed shut and tears stream down your cheeks onto his pillowcase. 

it’s one of his favorite positions, as you’ve learned over the past few months, to have you lying flat on your stomach as he fucks you from behind. with your body at this angle, he can get so much deeper into you, you can practically feel it in your stomach, and with only just a handful of thrusts he can make you fall apart on his cock in a matter of seconds. 

tonight, however, it’s taken less than that to make you cum. the pride of winning the case has him on a high, and he barely even needed to get you stretched out first. but he did anyway, his face buried between your thighs for what felt like eternity until you were pushing his head away and begging him to stop teasing.

you yelp as he twists his hand in your hair, yanking your neck back so you can see your reflection in the mirror.

your eyelids droop heavily, jaw hanging open as wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror. “you see how well i fuck you, baby?” he groans, squeezing your hip with his other hand. “taking it so fucking well… i’ve fucked you stupid, haven’t i?”

all you can manage is a moan as tears begin to form in your eyes from the pleasure. you whimper quietly, noises muffled by the pillow as you struggle to catch your breath in between thrusts. you can already feel the burn of another orgasm in the pit of your stomach, and wonwoo’s hands pushing down on your lower back are making it impossible to hold back.

“my good girl,” he coos and he lets go of his hand in your hair, barely giving you a chance to catch yourself as your head falls forward and back down onto the pillow. “don’t hold back those pretty sounds. let everybody hear how you like to celebrate your wins. you deserve it, baby.”

“just as much a win for you— as it is for me,” you manage to gasp out. you struggle to keep your eyes open but you force yourself to, determined to see the way his face contorts in the mirror. his eyebrows furrow as he adjusts the angle of his hips, staring down at your ass, back arching into him and forcing his cock deeper with every stroke.

he leans down over you, caging your body with his own, his mouth brushing against the back of your neck. “we both know you did most of the work. and this… this is your reward.”

“wonwoo—” you moan out brokenly as his hands knead your ass roughly, grabbing at your skin and spreading you apart so he can push into you with more force. you clench around him and he curses, his hips starting to stutter.

without warning he pulls out, rolling you over onto your back. you whine at the sudden loss and at the ache in your muscles, but wonwoo just leans forward over your body to kiss you and suddenly you forget everything you were thinking about. you’re so caught up in his mouth on yours and his hands sliding over your body that you barely even notice when he pushes his cock back into you, never breaking away from your lips as he starts out a steady rhythm, gradually building back up to his pace from earlier.

finally he pulls away, sitting up to put his hands on the back of your thighs and push your legs up to your chest. your breath catches in your throat with each thrust, your mind reeling as you concentrate on the feeling of him so deep inside you, pressing against that sweet spot over and over again.

his broad chest is the only thing that fills your vision as you cum, and your brain barely registers the words that leave his mouth in that deep, gravelly voice you’ve become accustomed to hearing nearly every night. 

“taking every inch so fucking well,” he grunts, forehead glistening with sweat. “god, you look so good taking my cock.” his movements become more and more desperate as he starts to chase his high, his fingers digging into your skin so roughly to the point that you know you’ll find bruises there in the morning. 

still breathing heavily, you whine out his name one last time, sending him over the edge right behind you in a matter of seconds. he lets out a guttural groan, continuing to snap his hips frantically as your walls squeeze around his throbbing cock.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

wonwoo chuckles, handing you your purse and helping you shrug your coat on as you attempt to wipe the smudged mascara from your cheeks with your thumbs.

“same time, monday night?” you ask as he walks you down the hall to the elevator, holding the doors open with one hand.

he nods, not even making an attempt to hide the grin on his face. “you keep winning cases like you did today, and you might as well just move in. save you the trouble of calling a taxi every night.”

you laugh, knowing he’s not serious but your heart races at the thought anyway. “you keep fucking me like that, and i might take you up on that offer.”

he hums and raises his eyebrows, but you can tell he’s pleased. “i knew having that mirror installed was a good investment.”

you might not be getting paid for taking on pro bono cases, but just knowing that you’re helping people makes up for it. and of course, the compensation you get from your coworker is more than enough to keep you coming back for more. 

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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#1k #kvanity #kflixnet #k-labels #caratlibrary #[📌] — june.writes #wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #svt scenarios #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios

[redstarwriting]

his girl | iv. what can make me feel this way?

earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader | miles morales x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: language, spoilers (!), probably bad spanish, mentions of stab wounds, mentions of death, Miles negatively talking about himself

a/n: ok so sorry about the wait on this chapter, i was really in a drawing mood and was hyperfixating on it and couldn’t do anything until i finished my hobie drawing and my new avi, but here she is, chapter 4. i hope y’all enjoy! it’s gonna get wild around chapter 7 so 👀 enjoy it while it’s calm(ish) lmao

his girl masterlist

previous chapter: iii. all the riches

now reading: iv. what can make me feel this way?

next chapter: v. a sweeter song

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Miles really doesn’t know what he did to end up in this situation. Talking to you, but not his you, about why his you hates him now. He walks away from your side, walking over to the wall and making that his seat. He leans against it, and then pulls his other leg up, just chilling like a spider does. You make a ‘huh’ noise, and he swears he hears you whisper ‘So that’s why he calls himself Spider-Man.’

“Ah… well, to make it a long story short, I’m stupid,” he says, and you smile softly. “That tracks. Dumbest genius I’ve ever met,” you say, and he scoffs. “Good to know I’m like that in every universe.”

“Maybe not every universe, but in the ones that matter. I’m only into idiot geniuses,” you say, and he smiles a bit. “Yeah. Well. You’re not into this one, I can promise you that much,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “I probably am. What did you do this time, dummy?”

“I… wouldn’t stop comparing you to another girl…” he mumbles, and you scrunch your nose. “Ew, Miles, what the hell?” you say, and he sighs. “I know, I know. It’s stupid, I’m stupid, I know. I just…”

“Do you like her or something?” you ask, and Miles groans. “Yeah, I did. A lot, actually, but… it didn’t work out,” he mumbles, and you raise your eyebrow. “Okay… well when you say compare…” He sighs, putting his head in his hands. “Everything, man. I would compare everything. At the time I didn’t see anything wrong with it, but now…”

“Yeah. That’s not a good move, Miles. Especially because I can almost guarantee I like you,” you say, and he shakes his head. Even if his universes you did like him, he ruined that. The way you walked away from him is still burned in his mind. The small, defeated voice you would use when you would tell him to stop talking to you when he was trying. The way you stopped showing up to classes, and how he barely was seeing you at all. And when he did, he could tell something was seriously wrong, but you would ignore him every time. He missed you. He missed you even more now that you were in front of him, and it wasn’t you. “Yeah… well, not anymore you don’t.”

“Do… you like me? Like, you called me hot down there, thank you, by the way, but do you actually have a romantic attraction to me?” you ask, and Miles hesitates. He never really thought of you in that way, per se, but this last month has been hell. Actually awful. He can talk to Ganke about anything, and he does, but Ganke just… Ganke isn’t you. He thought it was just because he was missing his absolute best friend in the entire world, but honestly? It might have been deeper than that.

It is deeper than that.

“If you have to think about it for that long, I’m gonna take it as a yes,” you say, and he glances over at you. “Yeah… I guess so. I didn’t realize I liked you like that until–”

“Until just now?” you ask, and he nods. “You really are the most oblivious person in the world, Milesy,” you mumble, and he sighs. “Yeah, yeah…”

“Your mamá didn’t catch on?”

“I’m sure she did, but… she didn’t say anything,” he says, and you frown. “That’s weird… Ms. Morales notices everything and always tells you in this universe…” Miles shrugs. “Guess she’s a little different on my world then,” he says and looks down at the floor. Honeetsly, his mom probably does know. That’s why she would give him sympathetic smiles when he would talk about you, and always encourage him to try and talk to you after giving you some space. What he wouldn’t give to be with his mom right now. And his dad. Both of them. “Hey, (Y/n/n), I haven’t heard any of you mention my dad at all,” he says, looking over at you again. You frown. “Well, uh…”

“Is he… on this world is he…” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence, but you understand. You nod. “He is… I’m so sorry, mi amor,” you mutter, and Miles’ heart flips for more than one reason. “I’m not your Miles,” he says, and you give him a small smile. “Yes, you are. The two of you are more alike than you think,” you say softly, and he lets out a little laugh. “Yeah? How?”

“Well, for one thee both of you would do anything to protect the ones you love and care about,” you say, motioning towards your broken body. “Anyone would do that,” he says, and you shake your head. “Not here, Miles. That’s rare in a place like this,” you say, and he frowns. “What is with this place anyways? Why is New York like… destroyed?” he asks, and you frown. “The Sinister Six Cartel took over everything after your dad passed. He was the last hope the city had to retaining any kind of normalcy. And the Cartel knew that… so, they targeted your mamá,” you say, causing Miles to snap his head in your direction, “Of course, Mr. Morales ran to help her. And he did, he saved her, but… he lost his life in the process” Miles’ eyes are wide as he hears you tell an abridged version of the story. “Was he the captain?”

“Yes, he was. It was the day he was sworn in, actually. He was the only officer in the city to have the cajones to stand up against the Cartel. So, they got him out of the way. And then the police force was corrupted, and everything went to shit,” you explain, and Miles stares ahead.

A canon event.

He was supposed to be Spider-Man on this world. And he’s still going through the events that all Spider-People go through. If the spider was supposed to bite this Miles, does that mean that before the spider, he was destined to become the Prowler? Would he still lose his dad even if he didn’t have these powers? Because this Miles did. You notice he’s gone quiet. “What’s that big brain of yours overthinking now?” you ask, and he looks at you. “I’m gonna need you to stop knowing everything about me, (Y/n),” he jokes, and you giggle. “Impossible.”

“It’s not important what I’m thinking about right now. How are you feeling?”

“It is important, but fine. Honestly, I’m not feeling great. But talking to you is definitely keeping my mind off of… things,” you say, glancing at thee knife sticking out of you before looking back at him. “Tell me more about myself. About how we’re alike,” Miles says, and you smile. “An excuse to talk about you? Say less.” Miles smiles, but it slightly wavers when he realizes that he could have had this. And if he just wasn’t a fucking idiot… he might have this. “You’re both strong. Stronger than anyone could imagine, and I’m not just talking about physical strength. You both can handle anything thrown at you emotionally… and yet somehow, you’re both idiots when it comes to your feelings. It took my Miles a near-death experience to confess to me. Said that while he was lying on the hospital bed the only thing that was keeping him on this world was me. That’s when he realized he loved me. Even after Ms. Morales told him that he did. I’m assuming you don’t listen to your mamá, either?” you tease, and Miles rolls his eyes. “I do! I do… for the most part.” He side-eyes you as you finish the sentence with him. “Always for the most part when it comes to listening to the women in your life,” you joke, and he rolls his eyes. “Alright, fine. I could listen to her a little more.”

“A little more? You’re a lost cause,” you tease, and he shakes his head. “How is she…? On this world, without my dad…?” Miles asks, and you give him a sad smile. “She manages. It’s hard. She works overtime at the hospital to provide for my Miles. And it’s still barely enough.”

“Wait, is it safe for her to work there? I mean with it being under this Cartel and all?”

“It’s fine. They think have some kind of moronic claim over her knowing that they killed your father. They use her as an example and look down on her, but they think that your dad was the outspoken one about them. If only they knew…” you mumble, shaking your head, and Miles laughs. “I can’t see her staying quiet about something like this unless she had to,” he admits, and you nod. “She doesn’t. Unless she has to. Which she has to a lot now to protect you,” you say, and Miles shakes his head. “They don’t know I’m the Prowler?”

“No. They don’t. I’m sure they have suspicions since you’re seen with your Tío all the time, but they don’t necessarily believe a 15-year-old would do the things you do. Besides, you mainly work with them instead of against them. Not by choice, if you had a choice you’d fight back,” you say, causing Miles to shake his head. “There’s always a choice. Especially when it comes to this. No one should tell you how to live your life or how it’s supposed to go,” he says, thinking back to the fight he just had with Miguel. Seems there are people here trying to tell other him how to live his life and telling him exactly how it should be, too. ‘Is everyone telling me how to live another one of your stupid canon events, Miguel?’ he thinks to himself. “I agree with you, but… he’s doing his best,” you say, and Miles nods. “Have I ever mentioned anything about fighting back?”

“To me, yes. All the time. But never to your Tío. He wouldn’t get it. Wouldn’t agree on it. So, he does what he can,” you say, “He just doesn’t need someone so close to him telling him his ideas and what he does is screwing everything up.” Miles nods. “I know that feeling,” he says. “That’s another similarity. You both are underestimated by everyone else,” you say.

Miles feels his chest tighten up. You’ve said that to him so many times in his world. After losing the science fair in 7th grade, after how he was feeling right after he first transferred to Visions, after he told you he was Spider-Man, and how he almost wasn’t good enough to be called Spider-Man by other Spider-People. So many times, you were there to reassure him he was enough, and that it was three other people underestimating him in the wrong. “How did I not notice this before?” he asks aloud, and you smile softly. “There’s another similarity. Heard you say that so many times,” you say, and he sighs. “I need to get home,” he mutters, and you nod. “I agree. You shouldn’t be stuck here like this. Especially if I’m waiting for you over there.”

“Not only that, but my dad is about to die in three days. And I have this really difficult villain I have to beat because he’s gonna try to take away everything I care about, and instead, I’m stuck here. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s nice talking to you, it always is, and I’m really happy I was here to help myself save you, but I need to be home. I can’t let my dad die knowing I could do something to stop it,” he says, and you nod. “I’ll convince him. Don’t worry, Miles can and will help you. But… how do you know your dad is about to die?”

“It’s… it’s a Spider-Man thing. Apparently. Dad’s gonna be captain in three days and… dad’s gonna die in three days,” he mutters, and you raise your eyebrow. “Sounds like Miles was supposed to be like you, then,” you say. You’re so smart. Took the words right out of Miles’ mouth. “I know. Could have prevented him a lot of pain,” he mumbles, and you shake your head. “Do not blame yourself for getting bitten by a spider, Miles, you couldn’t control that,” you say, and he shrugs. “Still. Took his whole life away from him.”

“And what would that have given you?”

Miles looks at you, and you cock your head to the side. “If you never got bit, what would that mean for you?” “Well… it would probably mean that you and I still talked. And that Uncle Aaron would still be alive,” he says, and your eyes widen. “Your Tío died?”

“Yeah. He died… protecting me,” he mutters, “of course, he did try to kill me until he knew it was me, and then Kingpin shot him. And killed him. In front of me.” You stare at him with wide eyes. “Miles, mi sol, I am so sorry,” you say, and he shakes his head. “It… it's not fine, but it is. It has to be. He was the Prowler, so… guess it was better for him to find out then instead of later on down the line after he would have tried to kill me even more times.” He frowns. This is really weird. This Miles still has Aaron, and he still has his dad… but Miles is about to lose his dad, so… does that mean this Miles is about to lose Aaron? He hopes not. This universe shit is confusing. “Always trying to find the positive, I see,” you mutter, “the two of you really are the same.”

“That guy tries to find the positive in situations?” Miles asks, in a little bit of disbelief. You laugh. “Sí, it’s why I call him mi sol,” you say. “And I take it you have a tendency to be negative like my (Y/n)?” he asks, and you huff. “I’m not negative–”

“I’m realistic,” Miles finishes your sentence with a smile. “Well, I am!” you exclaim, causing him to laugh. “I know, and I’m not just saying I know because you’ll get mad at me if I don’t,” he teases, and you throw the pillow your head is on at him. He catches it with ease, laughing. “Damn, pissed you off enough for you to try to assault me, huh?” he jokes, hopping off the wall and walking over to you. He gently lifts the top of your body up, placing the pillow underneath of your head. He helps you lay back down, and you place your hand over top of his. “I definitely like you, Miles. It’s hard not to.”

He smiles slightly. “Thanks, (Y/n/n),” he whispers. You pat his hand before he pulls away from you. “Do you think you’ll accept my apology?” he asks, and you nod. “I’d do anything if it was for you,” you say. Miles feels his heart skip a beat. He knows you feel the same way about him as this world’s (Y/n) does. Or he at least as to believe you do. For his sake. He just needs to get his head out of his ass and apologize before it’s too late. Hopefully, it isn’t too late, yet. “I’m… I’m so sorry,” he admits to you, and you give him a sincere grin. “Save your apologies for your (Y/n), Miles. And tell her you saved her life. Again,” you say, and he nods.

At that moment, other Miles comes through the window, his mask coming off as he walks over to you, completely ignoring Miles. “Rude,” he mutters under his breath, as Aaron follows Miles inside. But at the same time, he gets it. He’d do the same if you were hurt like this. “How do you feel, baby?” he asks, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Trying not to panic because there’s metal in my arm but other than that, okay, I guess,” you say, “Miles was keeping me distracted from it.”

42 Miles looks at him, giving him a nod. “Thanks, man.”

“No problem.”

“Oh, one more thing, Miles,” you say, and they both look at you. You smile at him, leaning up and placing a little kiss on his nose.

“You’re helping him get home.”

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#miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #prowler miles x reader #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader #spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #spiderverse #atsv

[daechwitatamic]

The Price || MYG

banner by @/itaeewon

The Price

Rating: NSWF - minors do not have my consent to interact Genre: Snow White and the Huntsman!au, angst, smut, unhappy ending WC: 8k

Summary: The Queen is responsible for everything you call yours: your home, your job, your freedom. You live without laying claim to anything else, lest the Queen leverage more in exchange for her grace. But the Queen has just named her latest price: the life of the young blacksmith, Min Yoongi.

Warnings: language, drinking, there’s a plague and it’s a problem, reader’s parents died (see the previous warning lol) and there are scenes of her grieving process, reader is a hunter so there’s mentions of animal carcasses and hides, lots of mentions of reader’s big fancy knife, a murder attempt, kissing, nip stim, groping, fingering, clit stim, penetrative sex (protection not mentioned either way), reader on top, angst, unhappy/ambiguous ending

A/N: Part of the Make Me Your Villain collab! Please give the other authors a lot of love!!! Huge huge huge thank you to @/here2bbtstrash for beta-ing!

//

Mirror, mirror - look and see. Who might take this throne from me? Mirror, mirror - who's the threat? Show me which boy's blood to let.

There are pros and cons to living outside the village. The pros are that you’re mostly left alone - you live by your own laws, most of the time. It’s better this way; you come and go as you please, you don’t worry about latest fashions or gossip, you aren’t under the thumb of any societal niceties or norms. You concern yourself more with what the forest tells you. Bad weather, humans who don’t belong, sickness on the horizon - the forest knows it all, and you know how to listen.

You knew about the plague - in a vague, something isn’t right here kind of way - days before the first villager fell sick. You didn’t see anything bigger than a possum for three days - you knew something was in the air. It was the baker first, then his wife. Now it’s made its way into the castle, the guards and servants falling like flies. 

Another pro - you won’t pick up illness from the baker if you make your own bread in your tiny cabin in the woods. 

The main con - the only con, really - is that when you make your weekly trek to the castle to present the King and Queen with your scores (deer, mostly, but usually a few fowl too) it takes so damn long to get there.

It would be faster on foot, much faster, but you have to load your kills onto a cart and take the dirt road, which winds and twists and takes its time. Today your cart is loaded: venison, fowl, a few rabbits, even a fox. That had been a good score. The Queen likes furs - she’ll pay you well for it.

But the trip into town once a week is a fair price for your freedom, you think.

A few vendors through the heart of town wave hello as you pass. You lift your hand in response but don’t stop. You’ll shop after, when your cart is empty and your purse is full. For now, you stay on the main road until it changes over from tamped-down dirt to cobblestone to, eventually, flat stone that leads to the bridge over the castle’s moat. 

The usual guard, the one who knows your face and always waves you through, isn’t there. You wonder if the plague reached him, if he’ll recover or if they’ll send his body to the sea like all the others. 

You show identification, the card nearly illegible due to how many times it’s been folded and stuffed into your shoe for safekeeping, and this new guard waves you on. 

As usual, you stop in the courtyard just inside the first set of walls. You hop down and start undoing the straps of the fabric you have over the top of the cart. Two guards join you, and they begin moving your scores down from the cart. Each is weighed and given a quick once-over as a scribe stands to the side recording it all.

“Make sure you mention how nice that hide is,” you tell him, pointing at the fox. “I got that one special, for her.”

The scribe rolls his eyes a little, but you see him peer at the fox and scribble something on his little parchment. When they’re done, your cart empty, the scribe rolls his paper up and leads you up the steps towards the main doors to the castle. You flip one of the guards a silver coin and follow the scribe. As you head up the steps, you hear the sound of your horse’s feet moving across the stone, the cart creaking and groaning behind him, as the guard you paid takes him to be cared for. 

Inside, you follow the thick, red carpet into the throne room. You’re surprised to see only the Queen present, but you school your face and drop into a bow anyway, your forehead brushing the soft carpeting. 

When you rise, you see the scribe has handed her the parchment, and she reads over the report of your goods. You wait, knowing better than to speak until she has. 

“A good week,” she observes. 

“Yes, your Grace,” you say, eyes on the carpet. “I was pleased as well.”

“Are you well?” she asks as she signals for her Chief of Coin, who scurries close to the throne and lowers his head to hear her whispers. 

“Quite well,” you say automatically, though you’re not sure what exactly she’s asking. Does she mean your health? Your home? 

The Chief of Coin makes his way to you and you pull your practically-empty purse from your back pocket. 

“You have need of nothing?” she asks. 

This would be your opportunity to ask after anything major - repairs on your home, medicine, anything you couldn’t get during your walk back through town.

“No, your Grace,” you say. “I had need of a new blade, but the local smith took my request.”

The local smith and your new blade are one of your stops on your way home. 

“I’ve heard from the citadel,” she tells you, and you pull your eyes away from the Chief of Coin to look at her. “They say your brother is doing well. He’s applying himself to his studies.”

When you’d lost your parents, you’d begged to keep your brother yourself, desperate to keep him away from the citadel’s orphanage. You were of age, could handle yourself. You could handle him, too, you’d argued. 

The King had considered this. Your family was well-known in the village, and your father had hunted for the crown for many years. Your brother was only about five years out from finishing his schooling. 

You were investments, you and your brother.

In the end, the deal had been struck - the crown would see to the rest of his education under the condition that when he finished he’d work for the crown, pay back his debt, begin to build his own name. 

And, in the meantime, you’d take over the hunting. You could keep your family’s little cabin out in the woods, away from town. Your brother wouldn’t be apprenticed off to a stranger.

It was an easy deal to agree to. 

“We’re grateful for the opportunity,” you say to the Queen. “If the report said anything less, I’d travel there to knock sense into him, myself. He’s at that age. You know.”

You try to bite back a cringe. The Queen might not know. She’d never been able to bear a child for the King. 

She smiles at this, thinly.  “Very well,” she says, and you take back your now-heavy purse from the Chief of Coin. “Then I shall see you next week. I wish you continued health in the upcoming days.”

You nod your head. “I wish the crown health and longevity,” you say. Head bowed, you miss the way her eyes tighten.

–

You pick up the goods you need - eggs, flour, and the like - on your way through town. You eye the tavern, tempted to stop for a pint. Alas, you are embarrassingly excited to get your new blade, so instead you carry on down the road towards the smithy. 

After tying up your horse - though he’s a lazy thing and probably wouldn’t wonder anyway, not with the cart hitched up - you head inside, following the sounds of a hammer striking metal. 

You wait until there’s a break in the noise and then shout a hey back towards the open door to let the team know they have a customer. 

There’s the sound of a heavy instrument being dropped to the ground, and you catch yourself smoothing your hair back. Stop it, you scold yourself, scowling. 

That’s the face that greets the youngest of the smithing team, Min Yoongi, as he steps into the shop, blinking as his eyes adjust to the light.

“Ah,” he says, lips curling into a smirk. “Is it Thursday already?”

“Is my blade ready?” you ask, ignoring both his self-satisfied grin and his question. “Park Jihoon said I could get it today.”

At his boss’s name, Yoongi’s smirk fades until he’s all business again. He turns to the wall, where special orders are tacked. He searches until he finds yours. 

“It’s ready,” he grunts, reading the slip of parchment. “Wait here.”

He disappears into the back again, returning with a hefty-looking blade, sheathed in a leather case. 

He places it on the counter between you, pulls the blade from its case and turns it over so you can see each side.

You frown. “I didn’t order engraving on the case,” you say, jutting your chin towards the delicate design at the top. It curls in and around itself, all the way around. “I’d better not have to pay extra for that.”

“Ah, but he worked so hard on it!” Park Jihoon says cheerfully, appearing out of the back and clapping Yoongi on the shoulder. You keep your eyes on the knife; Yoongi looks steadfastly at the wall with the orders, a pink flush working up his neck. 

“It’s not extra,” he mutters. 

“I’m heading to Bridgeport,” the senior blacksmith tells Yoongi. “I’ll be back before sundown. You’ll be okay here?”

“Of course I will,” Yoongi says, disgruntled. Jihoon nods goodbye at you both and moves through the door, leaving you in silence. 

“What’s the price?” you ask, placing your purse on the counter and digging for coins. He turns the paper over so you can see what his boss wrote, and you slide him the payment. You work on attaching the blade’s sheath to your belt, ignoring how Yoongi watches you through heavy-hooded eyes. 

You know that look. You are ignoring that look. 

“Lovely,” you say, once you’re situated and ready to go. You swipe up your purse and toss it once, catching it deftly. “Have fun pounding on metal, or whatever.”

His grin is razor-sharp. “I’d be happy to pound something else, if you want.”

The laugh rips out of you, unbidden and unwanted. “Disgusting,” you tell him, but the laughter takes the bite out of the words. “My God, you ought to throw yourself down the well for that.”

He lifts a brow, his smile turning less dangerous and more open.

You laugh again, shaking your head. “None of that today, thanks. I’ll be off.”

“Come on,” he cajoles, coming around the counter to follow you to the door. “You know you want some. It’ll be such a long ride back here when you change your mind later.”

“Keep dreaming, blacksmith,” you tell him, lips pursing in amusement.

He lays a hand over his heart like he’s wounded. “Blacksmith? You remembered my name just fine last week when you were -.”

“Well, I seem to have forgotten it again!” you blurt before he can finish the thought, pulling the door open. Over your shoulder you call, “Good day!” 

His laughter rings out onto the street, following you home.

Regretfully, you have to admit that out of everyone who lives in this village, built out from the castle’s western gate, you know the most about Min Yoongi.

You knew him in passing, of course - before. When you’d ride through this same village on this same cart, your little brother squeezed between you and your father. When you’d stand silently, peeking around your father’s side, while he took payment from the King for his scores. When you’d greet the peddlers and the shop-keepers politely before climbing back on the cart and riding all the way back home. 

Yoongi was just an apprentice then. You hadn’t paid him any mind. He was quiet, a bit scruffy, stayed close to Park Jihoon. He was no more interesting to you than the apprentice for the bakery, the tannery, the copywrite. Wasn’t even the best looking out of the bunch, honestly. 

He was just there, unassuming. He was there when you’d pass through town on the cart full of your father’s scores, there whenever your family had business with the blacksmith, there when the holidays rolled through and your mother dragged you into town in a dress you hated and shoes that pinched.

There the day your parents’ bodies, along with six others, were loaded onto a barge headed for the sea. There the day your brother joined four more young people from the village as they climbed into a deep blue carriage headed for the citadel. 

Yoongi’s dark eyes, cool and undemanding, had been on you as you stood fully alone for the first time in your life. 

You hadn’t paid him any attention then, either. You couldn’t pay mind to anything then except dragging yourself through dark day after dark day until, finally, the clouds seemed to part and your new life seemed bearable. And bearable turned into decent. And decent turned into enjoyable. 

The seasons turned. The hurts faded. 

And you began to pay mind to Min Yoongi.

You began to learn things about him, then - after. 

In your time around town, you learned first that he was good at his work - his blades were made well, easily as well as his master’s blades. You learned that he scowled and grunted but hardly ever meant it. You learned that he had a good reputation around the village - was known for helping his neighbors without being asked, known for being polite and keeping to himself. You learned that he had no family either, that the master blacksmith who’d taken him as an apprentice had more or less raised him, too.

Alone with him, you learned that his smile could be razor sharp, one side lifting and eyes glinting in a way that made your pulse sing. You learned that when he meant it, his eyes squeezed shut and his gums showed. His shoulders shook when he laughed. He made the funniest faces when someone said anything he didn’t agree with or didn’t understand. He’d grown strong, his craft shaping his arms and roughening his hands.

You learned that he took whiskey neat at the tavern when he was done working for the day. You learned that he had a smart mouth behind his quiet demeanor, and opinions about everything. You learned what he was willing and able to do with that mouth when he pressed you against the rough wood of the tavern’s side alley, and then later, back in his rooms behind the smithy. 

You learned that he fucked rough but loved soft.

And that was where it had to stop.

Because it couldn’t be - but this you knew the whole time. 

When he pressed his mouth to yours sweetly, stretching to reach you, brushed one lovely finger down your cheek and whispered, I want you, you knew this: it couldn’t be. 

There was no life for you in the village. There was no life for you as someone’s wife. There was no future for you as someone’s homemaker. 

Even if he could somehow give you partnership and love without taking away the wildness of your lifestyle - there was no love ready to bloom and grow behind your iron ribs. You had nothing you could give him back. You knew only survival. Only killing and coin. Only the forest and its secrets.

“You can’t have me,” you’d whispered back. “I am not to be had.”

You were surprised when he didn’t fight it. He hadn’t pushed back. He hadn’t held it against you, hadn’t been wounded. He’d accepted exactly what you were willing to give him and asked for nothing more. 

You know this, above all else: he’s sweet, and conscientious, and good. Yoongi is good.

You - forest-dweller, hunter, orphan, unmannered, uneducated - don’t deserve him. You aren’t enough for how good he is.

The royal physician’s face says it all. 

The Queen purses her lips, her eyes on her husband’s prone form. He meets her gaze weakly, too far gone to mask any of it. 

“How long?” she asks, the words clipped. 

The physician spreads his hands before him. “Impossible to say, your Majesty. Days, maybe. Weeks, if he can be strong.”

She scoffs. “Days it shall be, then.” She dismisses him with the wave of a hand. 

No one is surprised, she thinks. The plague would breach their walls eventually. Only the strong survive - of course it would be her husband who would succumb first, and quickly. He’d never been strong, not like her. 

After all, she was the one who tried all these years. She looked and acted the part of a partner. She was faithful. She focused on the crown, on the realm. 

Not like him.

He coughs as he shifts on the bed, and she looks at him again. Weak, she thinks again. She can only feel disgust for him, for everything he never gave her. 

“You’ll finally get what you always wanted,” he croaks. 

She turns to look out the window. The day is grey, dreary. 

“It seems I shall,” she agrees. Then she turns and walks closer to her husband’s sickbed - deathbed, perhaps. She drops delicately into the chair at his side and takes his clammy hand in hers. 

It might look as if she doted on him. It might look as if she mourned.

“What became of him?” she asks, voice even and unbending. “The boy.”

Her husband’s eyes crinkle with amusement, and the chuckle that rumbles from his chest is accompanied by pained coughing. 

“You truly are something, my Queen,” he says, shaking his head. “The boy doesn’t even know.”

He will say nothing else.

The Queen is delivered two things at once, not a week later.

The first, a gilded mirror, promised to possess magical ability.

The second, the expected news of her husband’s passing.

The realm begins its period of mourning, flags lowering, shutters closing. The Queen begins her incantations, alone in the southernmost tower of the keep.

The frame is made of ornately twisted gold, so heavy it takes two of her men to hang it for her. When they pull the dust cover off, she steps back to appraise it. 

“Pretty,” she observes, watching her own reflection in the glass - unmagical, unextraordinary. 

The swirling, green-hued mist doesn’t appear before her reflection until her men are dismissed, the door closing and leaving her alone. 

Your Majesty, the mirror intones, the voice coming from the depth of the mist. Your wish is my command.

The Queen pauses, considering. The throne, the throne - hers, finally, only hers. 

Unless.

The King’s last words to her ring through her head - the boy doesn’t even know. 

She raises her chin and chants, 

“Mirror, mirror, look and see…

Who could take this throne from me?

Mirror, mirror, who’s the threat?

Show me which boy’s blood to let.”

The mist, green and growing, takes over the glass. The Queen’s fists clench tightly at her sides. 

The mist clears. The Queen lets out a laugh, short and bitter. 

The blacksmith’s boy smiles shyly in the glass, one hand coming up as if to hide his face. 

The blacksmith’s boy. The king’s bastard. Her only threat, the only other claim to her throne.

Your next trip into town isn’t with a cart full of venison and fowl. Instead it rings more true to the holidays of old, with your mother in charge. You wear black and a scowl, just as you did then.

The funeral services for the King threaten to last the full day, maybe into the night. You wish you could abstain, but if ever there was an event you were obligated to attend - this would be it. 

You’re not sure what the King’s death means for you - for your brother. Will the Queen uphold the bargain? Does she still want your brother’s counsel, someday, when he’s of age? Without the King’s affection for your father, will she continue to allow you to live freely as part of the arrangement? 

You sit alone in the church pew; rather, you’re surrounded on either side by strangers. You know Yoongi’s in the crowd somewhere - you can feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head. You don’t turn to look for him. What good would it do?

It’s well after dark when the town begins to file out into the night. Your stomach growls, and you ponder if you should stop for a hot meal at the tavern before making the trek back through the woods or if you can hold out until you’re safely back at home.

You’re stopped on your way out the door by a guard reaching across you, blocking your path.

“Her Majesty requests your audience,” he says gruffly, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand at attention. Your audience? 

It can’t be good. You’re sure of it. 

You don’t meet her in the throne room as you have in the past. Instead, the guard leads you to a small chamber off the chapel, a nondescript little room with no decor, only a table with a candelabra lit in the center. 

She’s seated, and it’s so cramped in the room that it’s hard to properly bow, but you do your best. 

“Is my brother well?” you blurt out as soon as the guard has closed the door behind you. It was the first, biggest concern you had - you couldn’t hold it in. Had something happened in the citadel? 

She inclines her head, shrouded in darkness. “I asked you here because I need something done. You seem, somehow, to be my best option.”

You duck your head, flooded with relief. “I’m at your service, as always.”

And you are. You owe the crown everything - the home you were allowed to keep, your brother’s education, your income. Your freedom, as conditional as it is. 

The Queen seems to think before she speaks, and when she does each word is short and deliberate.

“There’s someone I need gone,” she says, her voice giving away no emotion. No sign of grief from the widow, no sign of trepidation from the new ruler, no sign of regret from the human asking you to take a life. “A threat to my throne. I’ll pay five times our normal scale. And I’ll pay you for your discretion, as well, on an ongoing basis.”

You respond with silence. You can’t process quickly enough - you don’t know what to tell her.

The only thing you can tell her is yes. She holds your whole world in her hands. 

But if you tell her yes, then you have to do it. Can you kill a person, can you pretend it’s no different from cutting a rabbit’s throat? 

Could you tell her yes and then leave? Vanish into the forest? What would become of your brother, if you did? Would he be responsible for your sins?

Five times your normal price could do a lot for you. You could send finer clothes to your brother, help pay for his books, maybe even a little spending money. You could fix up the cabin - patch the roof where it leaks, reinforce the cellar the way you’ve thought about for years. 

And payment for your silence - ongoing? For how long, forever?

None of it matters. You can’t say no to the Queen.

“Yes, your Majesty,” you hear yourself say. Your stomach is a block of ice, turning over and over with the tide. “I am yours to command.”

You know it. She knows it.

“The blacksmith’s boy,” she says coolly, and you aren’t even surprised. It’s like part of you knew, somehow. Part of you has been waiting for this ending all along. Isn’t this exactly why you’d never let him get too close? There was never a happy ending in the stars - not for you.

She accepts your silence as acquiescence and adds, “Tonight.”

“Tonight?” you repeat, voice coming out too wispy. 

She meets your gaze, still cold. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” you say, the only correct answer. But your mind is scrambling far away, getting ahead - what weapons do you have on hand, how will you do this -

“You didn’t strike me as softhearted,” she says, full of disdain.

“I’m not,” you defend. It’s just that it’s Yoongi. Yoongi, who sees your sharp edges and smiles because he knows firsthand how much sharp edges are worth. How - how - how can you? How can you pretend it’s just a hunt, just a necessity, when you know how his mouth tastes, how he looks at you like you’re something?

Her even look turns darker, a shade closer to a frown. “I know you have the stomach and skill to kill. And I know you dally with him. He’ll follow you - take him to the woods and be done with it.”

You haven’t been as discrete as you thought you had. You wonder who else in town knows about whom you dally with.

Not that it will matter, after tonight. Not if you follow orders.

Not when you follow orders.

“Yes, your Majesty,” you say, head bowed. 

There’s no other correct answer. Your freedom had always had a price.

–

There’s some poetic irony, you think, in killing Min Yoongi with the blade he made just for you. 

Your mind is stuck on this, circling it, unable to let go, as you approach the smithy.

The lights are out - there’ll be no late-night projects, not during the official mourning for the King. You hope Park Jihoon, whose quarters are above the smithy, just across the yard from Yoongi’s tiny cabin, sleeps deeply. 

You know Yoongi keeps a key in the eaves above his front window; you’ve seen him retrieve it no less than a half-dozen times - usually he’s reaching for it, his shirt rising and showing a slip of belly that you can’t help but run your hands across as he laughs and tells you to be patient.

You reach it on your own, tonight. You let yourself in as silently as possible, closing the door behind you, placing the key gently on his tiny, wooden table. His bed is in the far corner of the room, and although the fire in the hearth has gone out, you can see the lump of blankets through the darkness that show you his form.

You approach quietly, as you would approach a potential score, letting yourself slip into the mindset of surviving the forest. 

You hesitate when you stand over him. He sleeps on his back, the light from the streetlamps outside casting flickering yellow over his delicate features. His eyelids flutter. Next to his head, his fingers twitch. 

If you strike true, this could be over in an instant.

His eyes slide open, and a hazy smile drifts over his face. “Am I having a very good dream?” he murmurs. His eyes trail down your form and freeze on the knife in your hand. The smile fades, and his eyes meet yours again, a question in them. “Or perhaps a very bad one?”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. Then, you move at the same time - you lunging and plunging the blade into the spot where his heart lay, and him rolling sideways and hitting the floor with a thud.

You yank your blade free from where it pierced Yoongi’s empty mattress and wheel to follow him as he scrambles upright and towards the door. 

You should’ve locked it. You shouldn’t have apologized, your voice and your regret giving him the split second to bolt.

You follow him at a sprint, panting hard, as the fool runs barefoot through the smithy’s yard, heading for the forest. 

Your forest. 

It’s overcast tonight, threatening rain. No moon or stars to guide you, you follow Yoongi as he zigs and zags blindly through the trees. You have the advantage. You know where you are, even in the dark. 

It’s primal, as you forge deeper and deeper through the underbrush, just sinew and silence as you run. Wind whistles around you as you focus on breathing, focus on following the crunch of Yoongi’s wild path. The earth seems to rise up to meet each footfall with a jolting slap. The darkness seems to spur you on like it knows you need this, pressing you onward, telling you, hurry, hurry.

If you can herd him towards the east, you can cut him off at the ravine - he won’t be able to do it barefoot, not without stumbling, not without cutting those bare feet on the sharp rocks. You pick up the pace, emboldened by the plan, knees and elbows pumping as you close in.

Without warning, Yoongi stops short and wheels around on you, feet skidding a little on the loose needles that coat the forest floor. It’s so unexpected that the inertia carries you to him before you can tell your legs to quit. Before you can slow, before you can turn, he grabs you by the arms and slams you backwards into the thick trunk of an oak tree, hard enough to knock the wind out of you with an audible gasp.

You’re surprised enough that the knife drops from your fingers, and he wastes no time gripping you even tighter and throwing you to the ground, instantly dropping his body over yours and holding you down as best he can as you struggle. The blade lies just out of reach, taunting you, and you reach up and stretch as hard as you can to wiggle your fingers closer, but Yoongi roughly jerks your arm away.

You’re gasping for breath as you struggle beneath his weight, trying to keep your vision clear. This wasn’t part of the plan. You weren’t supposed to have to chase him, have to fight him. You aren’t used to this - the deer don’t fight back.

“Why?” he pants heavily, his whole body heaving with each inhale and exhale. Sweat runs down his neck from the curled, damp edges of his hair. His eyes are wild, confused above you.

“Do you know who your father is?” you respond in answer, and the question surprises him so much that he leans back, like he’s trying to get a better look at you. 

It’s all you need. You use your feet and your core strength to stretch just past where you couldn’t reach with his full weight on you, and your fingers close around the blade’s handle. In a flash, you have the sharp side pressing to the pulse point on Yoongi’s neck, hard enough that you know he can feel the sting, your other hand curling in his shirt and holding him still. His eyes widen and he freezes, straining to hold himself up and away from you.

“If you move I’ll do it, and it won’t be quick,” you hiss, teeth gritted so hard you’re sure they’ll crack. Your heart slams in your chest, adrenaline sending tingles clear down to your toes. You’re dizzy with fear. You aren’t sure what’s scarier - actually doing what you’re meant to, or having to report that you didn’t.

You’re both stuck there - a tableau, an oil painting, frozen for eternity, never moving on from this moment. A million possibilities stretch on as Yoongi’s pulse beats visibly against the knife he’d sharpened for you just days ago. 

You feel like you’re floating outside your body; you can’t feel any of it - not the knife’s handle against your palm, not Yoongi’s hips still pinning yours, not the sticks and stones beneath your spine, not the sticky humidity of a night on the precipice of storm. Not your own thrumming, frightened heartbeat.

You know you can’t do it - not this way. Not like this, not with his eyes on yours, steady, as if he’s not staring down his death. Not like this, looking into his face and remembering the first time you were under him this way, remembering every time after that. Your hand trembles as you will yourself not to pull the blade away. 

But he knows. Yoongi’s always called your every bluff, has always been perfectly capable of shooting you a knowing half-smile and pushing right past your blustering, always able to find the person on the other side of the facade - the person who’s scared,confused, alone. 

“No you won’t,” he murmurs, low, and there’s nothing accusing or mocking in it. He’s simply telling you what he knows. 

Slowly, carefully, he lowers his face closer to yours, so deliberately that the knife slides harmlessly along his skin until he’s clear of it. He presses his lips to yours, uncertain at first, then with more insistence when you don’t push him away. 

The fear and adrenaline crash through you in time with a not-so-distant crack of thunder, blinding you, rendering you thoughtless and animalistic. You drop the knife with a thud, barely aware that you’re doing it, your hand coming instead to tangle in his loose hair, clutching it tightly at the base of his neck and pressing his head closer to yours, kissing him deeper, needing to absolutely drown in his kiss. 

He grunts at your enthusiasm, nipping at your bottom lip before diving into you again, licking deep into your mouth and pressing his hips down into yours in rhythm with the kiss. You move with him desperately, the quiet of the woods scattered by your combined gasping breaths, tiny sounds of pleasure slipping through the cracks in your armor, the wet sounds of your mouths coming apart and meeting again hungrily. Despite the earth solid beneath you, you feel like you’re spinning. You clutch him tightly, one hand in his hair and the other arm coming around his shoulders, tethering him to you. 

He’s the only thing keeping you here, in the present, not skittering off to somewhere safe inside your head.

You let him hold you there, pressed between him and the unyielding ground below you, channel all the rushing adrenaline into how you meet his fiery kisses, pressing your mouth hard back against his like it’s a battle, into how you roll your hips against his, thrilling at feeling him hard and ready for you. But for all the intensity, for the dizziness sweeping over you, neither of you rushes - you kiss for so long that your lips tingle, your core throbs, the night grows blacker, the thunder tiptoes closer. 

You swipe your tongue over his familiar lips, whining in your throat when he opens for you again, welcomes you in, rocks against you and closes his eyes against the sting as you unconsciously tighten your fingers in his hair. 

Then he breaks the kiss, pulls himself free of your grasp, nudges his nose to the underside of your jaw until you lean your head back, breathing hard, giving him room to attach teeth and lips to the skin of your neck. 

He gathers a bit of skin and worries it between his teeth, muttering, “You won’t kill me. No one else can make you come undone like I do.”

The sound that tears out of you is half laugh and half desperate groan. “Prove it, then,” you goad, fingers finding the hem of his shirt and pulling the edge towards you. He releases the spot on your neck long enough to let you pull the material over his head. Then he sits back on his knees between your legs and looks you over, one hand absently sliding down the front of his trousers, pressing relief into his waiting cock.

“Yours,” he says, tone steely. You find your own hem with shaking fingers. Distantly, there’s a flash of lightning, illuminating the canopy of tree branches above you before plunging you into darkness again. You pull your top over your head and drop it next to his, leaning back on your elbows.

All thoughts of what you’re supposed to do here have left you; there’s only hands-shaking adrenaline and instinct driving you to give in to your desires and pursue what you want - Yoongi, Yoongi, more of Yoongi.

“Trousers, too,” Yoongi tells you, voice quiet. His fingers are on the string of his own trousers, but his eyes are on your exposed chest. Hungry. 

You do as he says, untying your bottoms and pushing them away with your feet and waiting for his next move. The night isn’t cold, but you shiver. The forest, your forest, feels like a sanctuary, like it’s wrapping around the two of you and keeping you safe from everything outside. Like if you stayed in here, together, you might be safe from her after all.

But you know that’s a lie. 

You push the thought away by coming up on your knees and approaching Yoongi, who’s still kneeling, too. You press your chest to him with a shudder as you reach to kiss him again. He gives a quiet, happy noise low in his throat and you answer with a hum as you lick into him again.

You slip a hand between your bodies and find him heavy and leaking. He presses into your touch with a nearly-silent keen that you manage to catch, and you trace your fingertips up his length, playing in the wetness you find waiting for you at the tip, then pulling that wetness down to the base again. You repeat the motion, touch featherlight, and listen to Yoongi’s breathing hitch and catch and sigh as he closes his eyes and enjoys it. He’s silky against your fingertips, skin like satin even here.

Yoongi trails kisses down your jaw, making a clear path towards your neck, and he skims a hand up your side and past your ribs, cupping one breast and rubbing his thumb roughly over your hardening nipple. You gasp, fingers twitching against his length, which spurs him on. He runs his knuckles lightly over the bud, then takes it gently between his thumb and forefinger, giving it an experimental roll. Your gasped ah turns into a liquid moan and he does it again, harder. You keen, a note of complaint in it, as he repeats the movement that is somehow both too much and not enough. 

You wrap your hand fully around him, done teasing him with barely-there strokes, and roll your wrist once, twice, three times, his low grumbling reply music to your ears. He’s still mouthing at your neck and he switches hands, igniting sparks as he gently pinches the other nipple instead. Then he reaches and bumps your wrist out of his way as he cups your sex and spears you on his middle finger. 

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you whine, rocking into his hand, trying to take the digit just a little deeper. 

He must hear the desperation in your tone or sense it in the way you clench around his single finger, because he takes mercy on you and presses a second finger in beside the first. You sigh, still rocking against his hand, as he fucks into the spot in your front wall that makes your eyes drift closed and your toes curl up. You abandon his cock, bringing your hands to his shoulders, hanging on to keep yourself upright. When he presses his thumb against your clit you groan, loud and long, no one to hear you, and let your head fall back.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, plunging his fingers in and out of your wet heat. You can hear it each time he pushes them back in, the sound ringing in the silent woods, the only competition the approaching rolls of gentle thunder.

He works you up until you’re panting, your forehead dropping to rest against his collarbone, your hips in constant motion as you seek more. Your arms are looped around his neck, though you don’t remember starting to hold him, and your fingers find the ends of his long hair, tugging lightly in time with his motions. Occasionally his thumb circles your clit, causing your hips to jerk, but the angle stops him from keeping it constant. He pulls his hand away, and you take a bracing breath, coming back to your senses as the sensations fade. 

He drops back from his knees, one arm behind his head as he lays back. He locks his eyes on yours as he strokes himself, his teeth toying with his bottom lip. 

“Come on, then,” he prompts, his hand languid and lazy on his cock. Your body buzzes as you climb over him and sink down, letting him fill you, stretch you, break you into pieces. You ride him hard, one hand splayed on his flushed chest for balance, as around you the wind picks up, the leaves on the trees fluttering.

Yoongi’s eyes screw closed and his head tips back, even as his hands continue to guide your hips through each rise and fall.

You slow, savoring the drag against your walls, savoring his pretty skin beneath your fingers, savoring the grunts and hitched breaths he’s trying to hold back.

You could have loved Yoongi. In another life, where you had chips to bargain with. In a life where you fit into place within the village, where wild wasn’t as necessary to you as air. Even if the Queen had never called for Yoongi’s head - this life never meant for you to love him.

This is what you think about as you lightly rake your nails down his chest, watching him squirm beneath you. You think about all the times he’d been on the edge of saying it.

You think about all the times the feeling had risen up in you, as warm as a patch of sunlit floor, and you’d had to blow it away like an errant dandelion seed.

Maybe you do love him. You just can’t forget - not for a second - how little it matters.

The knife sits where you’d dropped it before undressing, just past Yoongi’s head.

You could probably reach it now.

Yoongi seems to sense the change in your motions and cracks an eye open, his fingers on your hips loosening.

His gaze follows yours. A flash of lightning makes the metal shine for a split second, and then you’re surrounded by the sudden patter of falling rain.

“Guess we better hurry,” Yoongi mutters, reaching up to grip the back of your neck and pulling you down so your chest is flush with his.

All thoughts leave your mind as he hammers into you from below - the knife is forgotten. Your feelings are forgotten. The rain, starting to muddy up the ground around you, forgotten.

You cum around him in silence, jaw clenched, fingers digging into his biceps. The groan he lets out as you squeeze around him in waves is drowned out by a growl of thunder that feels like it’s right above you, all around you.

Yoongi pumps into you with abandon, suddenly losing the rhythm he’d created. He gives two more shuddery thrusts and then lets his arms flop to the ground with a contented sigh.

For a second, you both lay there, sweat-slick and panting. Another lightning splits the sky, and the rain comes harder. He slides out of you and you wiggle until you’re laying just next to him instead of on top of him.

You can’t stop looking at him. He seems determined not to look at you.

The rain washes everything away - the smell of sex, your sweat, your affection, your sadness, your pride.

“My father,” he murmurs beneath you, and you go deathly still. “Yes, I knew.”

You swallow, brush rainwater from your brow. “So does the Queen,” you say back. An explanation, and an answer to the why he’d leveled at you an hour ago.

He nods slowly, expression clearing with understanding.

You feel no absolution for it.

Finally, he leans his head back again, his bangs flopping heavily now that they’re saturated with rainwater, and eyes the knife.

You sit up. He brings his eyes to you and watches silently - as if he accepts whatever move you make. As if, should you reach for the metal, he wouldn’t fight you this time.

“Go.” The word tumbles roughly onto the inch of mud between you. You don’t remember making the decision to say it.

He sits up, elbows and shoulders caked with mud. But all he does is watch you, wait for you to change your mind.

“Go,” you repeat, meaning it. Now that you’ve said it once, now that the decision was made, you know it’s the right one. “I’ll tell her it’s done.”

You could never kill him. You both knew it all along.

He dresses wordlessly, and you do the same, pulling your top back over your head and tying up your trouser string. When you look up, he’s standing in the rain, watching you.

You stoop and grab the knife he’d made you. You grip it tightly in your hand, refuse to meet his eyes.

He’s not challenging you, not questioning you - and that, in itself, feels like a slap.

“You can’t come back,” you say, as evenly as you can muster. When he just looks at you, infuriatingly silent, you add, “You can’t. Okay? If she - she can never know.”

“I know,” he says, and then he gives you a long, searching look. He’s drenched now, and your hands itch to push his set hair away from his face, to use your thumbs to chase raindrops - you think - away from his lashline.

Then, choked, he offers, “You could -”

“Don’t,” you bite out, stopping him before he can make you any kind of offer. You can’t. You can’t go with him. You can’t disappear into the night. Your brother is counting on you. You won’t let him pay for your sins.

Yoongi shakes his head. He takes another step closer. Your fingers tighten on the knife’s handle.

“Y/N, I -”

You raise the knife above your head in a flash, eyes going wide in fury.

“Fucking go!” you bark.

He holds up his hands, takes a few steps backwards, giving up his quest to make this harder than it needs to be. Lightning illuminates him and above your head, the blade shines for a split second before everything is cast into inky darkness again.

When your eyes adjust to the darkness, trees around you forming a shape again, he’s gone.

You don’t follow him, and you don’t return to your cabin. You sink to your knees in the mud, dropping the knife onto the ground, and sob into your hands, the noise swallowed by the flurry of rain and the intermittent cracks of thunder.

—

You sleep. You hunt. When the time comes, you bring your scores to the Queen atop your wagon.

She doesn’t ask you about Yoongi. You don’t offer her anything, just thank her for her grace routinely when she orders your purse to be filled.

You don’t stop at the tavern on the way back home. You don’t stop at any of the shops - not this time. You don’t trust yourself to act right if Yoongi’s disappearance gets brought up. You don’t trust that no one will do the math that he vanished four nights ago, and now you’re a hollowed shell who can’t form words.

The townspeople have seen you grieve before. They’d know what they were seeing.

The next trip is easier, and the one after that even more. The Queen never thanks you, not that you expected it, but you start finding an extra purse of coins in your wagon each time you return to it after bringing in your kills.

The price for your silence. The price for what she thinks you’ve done.

It hurts the most when your wagon passes the smithy, but you keep your eyes on the cobblestones and your hands on the reins and eventually the hurt fades along with the village as you get farther and farther away.

The seasons turn. The hurts fade. You send extra money to your brother. You sleep. You hunt.

Eventually, you stop waking up from nightmares that feature the glint of metal. You stop waking up trying desperately to cling to your dreams as fruitlessly as clinging to smoke, left with only damp places on your pillow and the memory of a low, throaty chuckle ringing in your ears.

Eventually, you can ride past the smithy without the pang in your chest. You can stop for a pint without watching the shadows for the appearance of a gummy smile. You can laugh when the bartender cracks a joke, can sound like yourself when you ask the baker’s daughter how she’s been faring.

It is after one of these trips, deep into color-saturated autumn, that you return to your cabin with wagon empty and purses full.

Something isn’t right. You freeze, casting your eyes around the forest, but it holds its secrets tight.

On the ground in front of your door, illuminated by the late afternoon sunlight, is a brand new, shining blade.

thank you so much for reading!!! i really really like this one and i hope you do too!! <3

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #min yoongi fic #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi smut #min yoongi angst #fairy tale au #fic: the price

[epickiya722]

You know what made me take to Rock Lock rather quickly?

He treats being a Pro Hero as a damn job.

Look, debut episode he came off "mean", but plot reasons and genre aside, he had a fucking point.

Why in the hell were high school kids brought in to deal with the damn Yakuza?

Mind you, this is coming from a man who has a whole wife and a baby son.

Compared to Endeavor, Rock Lock is a lot better than his ass. In fact, he's a lot better than most of the Pros considering most of them treat being a Pro Hero like being some celebrity. Mt. Lady and Best Jeanist are examples.

Uh, didn't Endeavor not only become a Pro Hero because he wanted to one up All Might and even went as far as abusing his family?

Rock Lock being "mean" isn't him being malicious compared to some other characters who are a lot worse to children.

He was making a point that being a Pro Hero isn't some game. You literally put your life on the line. Let me remind you that some of the kids want to be Pro Heroes just to be famous, Mineta for example.

I would be critical, too, when if someone decides to risk their life for the sake of just wanting to be popular. The man has experience being a Pro Hero. He probably has seen Heroes die!

Seeing kids, children, minors walk into a meeting about dealing with an evil organization in that was currently lead by a man that was EXPERIMENTING ON A CHILD probably brought fear into the man as he, again, has a family he loves.

Unlike some fucking Pro Hero.

And it's not like he is this "cold, heartless angry" man. He indeed gives credit where credit is due. You just have to earn it. Midoriya is my baby, my green sunshine, he is my favorite. But in the eyes of Rock Lock, he needed to prove that he wasn't one of those people who wanted to be a Hero just because. Again, Midoriya is a child, one who is sometimes reckless when his emotions get the best of him. That is not good when it comes to being on the field when fighting villains who are unpredictable and could kill you.

Also, during the Shie Hassaikai arc, he did show concern for Amajiki when he got hurt. So again, he isn't heartless.

He's just professional and doesn't play games.

Endeavor didn't even want to take Bakugou and Midoriya in for the Work Studies, he was actually annoyed by their presence.

What does that tell you about his character?

Exactly what was his excuse for that annoyance when they came there to get experience. It wasn't as if he didn't get to train Shoto. He was just being a little bitch.

People wonder why villains are the way they are, but if some of these Pros cared less about their fame and egos and more about the fact that their duty is to save people like Rock Lock, than maybe the villains wouldn't be the way they are.

#i was gonna let it go but i just couldn't #he is one of my top faves #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #just kiya's thoughts #rock lock #takagi ken #ken takagi #pro heroes

[creative-crybaby]

Make Love to the Camera

PAIRING: sub!Takami Keigo (Hawks) x femdom!reader

GENRE: smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: pegging, mommy kink, nipple play, anal fingering, praise kink, use of sex toys (strap-on), oral (on a sex toy), very brief feminization, light cock slapping (like, once), size kink, dacryphilia, consensual filming + photos

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

SUMMARY: Take a photo, it'll last longer. And with how beautiful your boyfriend is, you can't help but follow that saying.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: wrote this for @dabihawksluva's PegHawks2023 collab! Thank you for the opportunity to ruin him ❤️

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

He’s ethereal. 

This isn’t unheard of, much less to him. Fans, interviewers—no one can deny his beauty. His charisma, which comes with his easygoing attitude, adds to his popularity, and it all manages to shine through even when he doesn’t need to speak.

If Takami Keigo isn’t fighting villains or saving civilians, he’s improving his image in other ways. Interacting with fans during his paroles, bumping up the charm during interviews—he even models on the side. The camera loves him. 

Then again, so do you. 

“Thanks for showing up,” he smiles, approaching you immediately at the start of his short break. “It means a lot.”

Your heart flutters as you see him physically relax, and you copy his expression. “Of course.” You hand him a water bottle, which Takami gladly accepts. “You look amazing out there.”

He stops drinking, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as a soft pink dusts his cheeks. “You think so?”

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes playfully. “Like you don’t already know.”

“Still,” he sips a bit more before twisting the cap back on, “it’s different coming from you.”

The corners of your lips rise, and you lean in teasingly. “I call you handsome and pretty all the time.”

“And I fall for you every time.”

It’s your turn to feel the warmth radiating off your face, that grin forcing itself onto your lips. 

You don’t get a chance to come up with a comeback as several people butt in to touch up his hair and makeup. Takami pays them no mind, used to the attention, though his soft gaze remains on you. It’s enough to ease your frustration; they’re just doing their jobs, you know this, but having them all so close to your hero when he finally gets a break is affecting your brain the way nails on a chalkboard affect one’s ears. 

He notices because, of course, he does, and everyone stops what they’re doing with the raise of his hand and a charming smile. The Pro Hero steps toward you, leaning forward until only a few inches separate you. 

“I’ll see you tonight?” It’s more of a statement than a question, but with golden pools softly gazing into yours, you find yourself nodding. Takami smiles reassuringly. “Until this is over, keep your eyes on me, okay?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer, just pecks your temple before heading back to the set. Your focus follows his frame, finding him throwing you a glance over his shoulder with a wink. 

You don’t, can’t, look away for the rest of the shoot.

“I’m home.”

The words come out somewhat sluggish as you hear the window close seconds later. You save your page in the book before placing it on the nightstand, dismounting the bed to follow that familiar voice. Its owner meets you halfway, blocking the bedroom entrance with its lean frame and tired eyes. 

“Hey, pretty bird,” you smile sympathetically. Like magic, your words make some of his exhaustion disappear. Takami fixes his posture as he greets you back just as quietly and lovingly. You pull him into an embrace, and he slumps once more. “Long day?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he chuckles against your skin.

You pull back to face him. “You were great during the shoot.”

Your hand cradles his cheek, making him croon as your thumb gently rubs his tanned skin. He shifts his head to kiss your palm. “Of course, you’d say that.”

“I mean it,” you pout. The Pro Hero chuckles again at your reaction, pulling you back into the hug and peppering kisses on whatever exposed skin his lips can find. You sigh at his gentle touch. “Want me to prepare a bath for you?”

“You saying I smell bad?” muses your lover. You groan, and he laughs, the rumbling from his chest vibrating against your body. The joyful sound eventually disappears, but you can feel his smile against your skin. “I’d rather just stick with you for now, thanks.”

You hum, your hands soothingly rubbing his back and making his wings puff ever so slightly. The subtle movement has the corners of your lips twitching upwards, though you remain silent for a few extra seconds. 

“Anything in particular you wanna do?” you ask, pulling back a bit. The battle between you and the ever-growing smile ends with you losing, and your teasing expression is impossible to misread. “You’ve been working really hard lately. I think you deserve to be spoiled, even just a little bit.”

Your implications have a bright red spreading across the Pro Hero’s face, his wings twitching as he leans in to rest his forehead against yours. You have to refrain from cooing at his bashful expression, feeling lucky and prideful that you’re the only one that can gain a reaction like that from him.

“You’re not even trying to be subtle,” Takami mumbles, brows creasing. You snicker when you notice the tips of his ears matching his face in colour, and he pouts. Your smile only grows while he remains silent for a few more seconds. “C’mon, you know what I want…”

You pull back, eyelids hooded. “I don’t think I do.”

“Don’t make me say it…”

“Say what?” More silence on his end, smugness on yours. You know what he wants–you want it just as much–and you’ll gladly give it to him. The fact that you can get him to squirm for a bit is a little treat for yourself. You cup his face with both hands. “Use your words, handsome.”

You’re cradling him in your hold, your boyfriend whining at your dragging. You can feel the heat radiating from his face, warming your hands as he forces his gaze onto yours. 

The next couple of seconds happens in a flash. Takami grabs your wrists, pulling them away from his cheeks and towards him, slamming his lips against yours. You yelp into the kiss, his strong arms wrapping around your torso to keep you in place. Still, you comply with his sudden affection, tangling your fingers into his hair and gaining a soft moan from him. 

Your lover breaks the kiss, breathless and even redder than before. “Touch me.”

It’s good enough for you, and you tug him back for more as you lead him to your bed, helping him remove his clothes while his feathers fly out of the way.

Takami’s unbuckling his belt by the time the back of your knees hit the foot of the bed. You pull away from the kiss, hastily throwing the remainder of his clothes away, as well as some of yours, before leading him onto the mattress. With him on his back and you hovering over him in your undergarments, both panting and warm and needy, you resume your makeout session, allowing each other’s hands to touch whatever parts of the other they can grab onto. 

You remove your lips from his own to suck on his neck when you feel his cock poking your inner thigh. A quivering whine graces your ears, and the Pro Hero places his hands on your hips. 

“Can’t wait any longer,” he says desperately. You stop your actions to look at him, and his eyes plead with you just as, if not more, than his words. “I’ve been good, haven’t I? For all I know, the Commission might want me back out there. Another second of this and I’ll lose it.”

You’re surprised more by his ability to remain coherent than his words. If his touch and gaze are anything to go by, he’s not lying. 

Then again, you share those sentiments, and you offer him a sincere expression with a matching apology.

With a final peck to his forehead, you then trail open-mouthed kisses down his chest until you reach one of his nipples, plopping it into your mouth and letting your tongue dance around it. Takami gasps, and it’s more than enough encouragement to tweak at the other bud, matching your mouth’s pace.

“I can’t help myself,” you apologize again after momentarily detaching from your lover. “I promise I’ll start soon. I just want to get a few more noises out of you.”

Because yes, you share those sentiments, but along with them, you carry selfish ones. 

You’re back to your ministrations, making him bite his lip and squirm under your touch.

“Please, just get the strap,” he begs, his voice wavering. “I said it, okay? I promise I’ll be good if you just touch me already. Just… please…”

The slight crack at the end convinces you, though you’d have loved to toy with him a bit more. 

Pulling back, you wipe a stray tear from his cheekbone. Based on his rapid blinking, he didn’t seem to notice he was crying. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, slowly getting off him. “I’ll get to it. But in the meantime, I’d like you to keep up what I was doing.” you take his wrists, leading his hands to his chest before fully dismounting the bed. You look back at him with a soft expression almost unfitting for the current situation. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”

The Pro Hero nods, and you reach for a box under the bed before placing it on your vanity (courtesy of your loving boyfriend). It doesn’t take you long to find what you’re looking for in it: a crimson, nine-inch dildo with an equally bold harness, as well as some lube. 

Taking what you need, you strip yourself of your underwear before strapping the toy on. You approach your lover, who complies with your command and rubs his nipples as he watches you with want. He stops touching himself as his gaze wanders south, the sheer length and girth making him gulp as if he hasn’t had it inside him before. 

You chuckle at his reaction, sitting on the mattress. “Come lay your head on my lap, sweetheart.”

Takami perks up at the command, quick to crawl toward your frame and snuggle into the fat of your thighs. He sighs against your skin, practically disregarding the fake cock mere centimetres away from his face. You smile lovingly at him, raking your fingers through his golden locks. From the corner of your eye, you catch him shifting into a curled-up position, bringing his body closer to yours.

“This should work for prep,” he tells you from his spot, turning his head to peer up at you with almost childishly proud eyes. The hand in his hair glides down his neck to his shoulder blades to play with his wings, making him shudder. 

“It should,” you agree, dragging your fingertips lightly against the sensitive base. Your boyfriend moans, his cock twitching against your hip. You hand him the bottle of lube, and even in his descent to wonderland, his brows furrow at the object. “And you’ll be taking care of it.”

His face drops as he pouts, an almost silent whimper escaping his throat as he looks at you with pleading eyes. “I thought you said you wanted to treat me?”

“Of course, I do,” you coo, refraining from giving in. “But you know I can’t help how pretty you are when you get needy.” The look he gives you tells you he isn’t convinced, so take your hand from his back to cup his chin. “I promise I won’t hold back once you’re all prepped up for me, okay?”

He stares at you for a bit. “Promise?”

“Absolutely.”

The sincerity in your tone and gaze seems to be enough for Takami as he takes the lube from your grip, removing the cap and oozing a generous amount of liquid onto his fingers. You keep your eyes on his hand, watching intently as it falls past his thighs and cock, a whine slipping through his lips. You can’t see him stretch himself open, though his reactions are more than enough to keep you satisfied. You almost feel selfish; even with this moment being all about him, you’re dragging things on for your own pleasure, not wanting to miss a second of your lover falling apart. 

Your greed doesn’t stop there as you catch a glimpse of your phone on the nightstand.

“Mind if I record you?” you ask softly, caressing his cheekbone for good measure. “I just wanna look at you forever.”

The Pro Hero doesn’t stop his ministrations as he gives you the go-ahead, and you gently lift his head to reach for your phone. Giving your thanks, you help him shift positions to kneel before you, his fingers continuing to work their magic on his hole.

With the dildo’s base in one of your hands and the device in the other, you give him a look that tells him everything he needs to know. 

Takami opens his mouth wide, allowing you to tap the fake dick’s head on his awaiting tongue before slowly sliding the silicone shaft down his throat. As soon as his lips wrap around the toy, you press record, aiming the camera at your boyfriend’s lewd display. 

“Good boy,” you sigh, eyelids drooping as he sets a languid pace bobbing his head. His tongue dances along the underside of the red cock, you notice, and you’re more than sure you’d be a goner had it been your real dick. 

Your boyfriend moans around the shaft, making direct eye contact with the lens on your phone as he takes more into his mouth, his gaze sultry yet pathetic. He knows what he’s doing—of course, he does. Though with his photoshoots being at most somewhat sensual, seeing him like this with no one else around makes pride swell in your chest and lust swirl in your lower belly. 

Despite your shallow breaths, you’re surprised that your hold on your phone remains stable. Even when Takami’s lips reach the base and his gags to your ears, you don’t miss any of it while recording. 

It isn’t until you notice his thighs tense that you end the video.

“I think you’re ready now,” you say, slowly slipping the dildo out of his mouth. The Pro Hero heaves, nodding at your words as tears cascade down his flushed face. You wipe them away, giving him a break as your gaze softens at his beautifully dishevelled appearance. “Just lay on your back, and I’ll take care of the rest. Okay, pretty?”

He quietly moans as he changes his position, opening his legs to allow you to nestle between them. The bottle of lube is back in your hold as you lather the liquid onto your already-wet strap-on. You barely put on a show, but it doesn’t stop your lover from exhaling shakily at the display. 

Tossing the bottle elsewhere on the bed, you hit the record button once more before aiming your tip at his rimmed entrance. You shift the camera’s focus to Takami’s face, watching it contort from the invasion while a gasp slips past his swollen lips. With only an inch or two inside him, you wait for him to relax, shushing him while rubbing his thigh soothingly. 

It’s only when his heaving subsides that you shift your focus to between the Pro Hero’s legs, his hole stretched open and his cock hard against his abdomen and leaking precum. A grin spreads across your face, and you sink the toy deeper inside him. His whimpers make you bite your lip, holding back your own sounds of pleasure. 

Once you bottom out, you zoom in on where your fake dick disappears with your phone, glancing up at your boyfriend only to find him covering his face with his arm. It’s enough to ease the ache of your cheeks from smiling so widely, but you don’t frown, either. Instead, you gently slap his cock—not too hard to cause harm, though it certainly earns you a mix of a moan and a sob. 

“Don’t hide from me, baby,” you chastise, lightly rubbing his shaft as an apology. Takami whimpers, hesitantly removing his arm from his face, still red and moist from sweat and tears. Your smile returns, and your hold on his dick leaves as his on his thighs appear. “I wanna see and hear all of you, okay?”

Your boyfriend nods with a gulp. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” you parrot all too sweetly, raising your brows knowingly at him. 

A pause.

Takami mewls. “Yes, Mommy.”

You coo at his pathetic tone, reeling your hips before slamming back in. Your pace is rapid and immediately set; you’ve made him wait long enough.

Taken aback by your force, the Pro Hero tightens his hold on his thighs, digging his nails into his skin as he allows the wanton cries to escape his throat. Even with more tears glossing his vision, he manages to keep his eyes open. The blush on his face spreads to his neck as his body shines with a sheer layer of sweat. The sight alone is dizzying for you, but you’ll be damned if you stop now.

“You take me so well,” you huff with a smile, brows knitted together in concentration. You wonder if he can hear you over the wet pap pap pap of your hips colliding, the lube creating a thin ring at the base of your strap-on. “Practically a–ngh!–natural. If being a hero doesn’t work out, you could… you could make a living off of taking my cock.” Takami whines at the idea as you push at his inner thigh to further spread his legs. You focus on the mess you’ve made and how easily the toy disappears inside him, moaning at the lewd sight. “Would you like that, baby? Be Mommy’s little porn star?” More whimpers from the Number 2 Hero. “Your fans would sell their souls to see you shirtless. Imagine–hah–what they’d do to see you like this.”

He keens with a hiccup, and you grin widely, your body on autopilot as you zoom in on his face. Just as flushed as when you started, Takami’s cheeks shine with the remnants of his tears as they continue to fall, his eyes layered with a mist as they cross ever so slightly. If you look closely, you’re sure to find hearts in his pupils, his glossy and rosy lips twitching upwards as drool seeps down his chin. 

You’re right: his fans would do anything just to catch a glimpse of him in this state. 

And you get to experience it all for free.

The passing thought gives you more than enough adrenaline to go faster and harder, angling your hips slightly differently to hit the spot that makes him shriek almost girlishly. He’s so perfect; you want to cry. You want to keep fucking him silly, and you want to ride him until your legs lose all feeling. You want to destroy him, mind, body and soul, and you want to press your lips against his while cradling his face. 

You want all of him. 

“Mommy,” Takami gasps, his hips twitching. “‘M close, so fucking close…” He cuts himself off with a wanton mewl, taking a moment to collect himself despite your brutal attack on his prostate. “Can I—can I cum?”

Hearing someone of such high status, someone every citizen looks at with such high regard, ask for permission with a trembling voice, you feel more powerful than any villain. And with how your cunt clenches at the mere sight of him in his miserable glory, you’re sure you ought to be classified as one, too. 

But for now, you’ll show mercy, albeit recorded for his humiliation. “Make a mess for me, baby bird.”

The next few seconds happen in slow motion as you watch Takami’s eyes roll to the back of his head while his jaw falls open. Splatters of creamy white decorate his abdomen and chest, with a couple of drops reaching his chin as he squeezes around the toy. You help him ride his orgasm while making sure to catch every moment on your phone, only ending the video once his body relaxes. Your gaze softens, and you snap a few extra photos. You could make one of them your home screen later.

You shush him as he regulates his breathing, leaning forward to place your phone on the nightstand before brushing some of his hair out of his sweaty face. Once he appears somewhat calmer, you move back to rest your hands on his hips to slide the strap out of him, your lover hissing as you do so. Every step of the way, you whisper sweet nothings to him.

“Such a good boy for me,” you coo after removing the harness. You then lay next to him, and Takami whines, making you smile, tilting his head to face you. Tear stains ghost his cheeks while wet lashes clump together, his plump lips glossy with the spit as his blush fades to a subtle pink hue. He’s beautiful; it’s not fair. “Wait here. I’ll get you cleaned up.”

You make quick work of doing so. Wet cloth, water bottle, whatever you can get your hands on in a short amount of time. And after wiping away the evidence of your activities from the Pro Hero’s handsome face and sculpted build and getting him to drink up, you help him sit to pull him into your embrace. 

Takami pouts, tugging at your bra strap. “Still got this on?”

With a roll of your eyes, you remove the last article of clothing from your warm body, and a wolfy grin spreads across his face. He’s back to hugging you, this time burying himself in your chest.

You sigh. “Was I too rough on you?”

Still pressed against you, the Pro Hero shakes his head no. He only slightly pulls back to peer up at you, his expression somewhat more serious. 

“Was I a good model for you?” he asks. You can hear the teasing tone in his voice, though there’s an antsiness to his gaze that awaits for your approval. With a soft laugh and a smile to match, you then kiss his head. 

“The best.”

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

#fanfic #fanfiction #smut #peghawks2023 #mha hawks #mha smut #mha #bnha #bnha smut #bnha hawks #takami x reader #takami keigo smut #takami keigo #sub!hawks

[sxtaep]

PEEKY BLINDERS - JJK

how much longer was jungkook gonna keep the knot on his self control?

pairing — jungkook x female reader

genre — smut

word count — 2.4k

warnings/tags — neighbours!au, semi-texting!au, dom!jk, sub!reader, jungkook lowkey a peeping tom but he has good intentions, semi-public, explicit content, exhbitionism, voyeurism, mutual pining, sexting, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation (m guiding f), exchanging of illicit photos/videos, vulgar language, dirty talk, pussy slapping, crying, finger sucking, making out, a little grinding +more

a/n: holy shit i wasn’t expecting the banner to look THAT good 😰😩 btw, as much as i love the show ‘peaky blinders’ this has nothing to do with it 😭

Living in an apartment where your bedroom walls were entirely just a window, did have its pro’s and con’s. One of the pro’s being the breathtaking view you had of the city below you; blaring lights and the distant sounds of city bustle filling the air.

It was just another average night; coming home from work and begrudgingly making your way into your room for a quick shower and dropping your belongings to the floor. You were tired, so you wasted no time in stripping yourself off your clothes. It wasn’t anything unusual. The man that sat at his window in the building across from you seemed to enjoy the view of you undressing.

You first noticed him a couple weeks ago, at first being a little startled that he might be an old pervert that got off to watching you undress, but when he started laughing at your shyness, you realised he was far from it.

The man was Jeon Jungkook, who recently moved in to the apartment complex opposite yours. He was around the same age as you, maybe 4 or 5 years older, but his age did not reflect his actual appearance. He was the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on; full sleeve of tattoos, brow piercings, a lip piercing you could only imagine how it would feel for him to eat you out for days on end.

These illicit thoughts of yours were nothing new. Even though your building was a few metres apart from his, when you both first laid eyes on each other that one fateful night whilst you were changing, it was as if no one else existed.

You were very much bare in front of the window, your pyjama shirt hanging over your arm like you were about to put it on, but obviously changing your mind when your eyes met his. He was sitting in his usual spot, this time with a glass of something in his hand as he watched you; revelling in the sight of your silhouette standing out beyond the dim lighting of your bedroom.

For some unusual reason, you didn’t feel the need to shy away from him. He’d seen you in this state on a number of different occasions, but this time, things felt different. Jungkook’s stare was holding much more self-conflict than you’d ever seen before, and it was good that you noticed, because on the other side, Jungkook was in his apartment, battling the urge to pull his erection out and fist his cock stupid just by the mere sight of your body.

But Jungkook wasn’t the type of guy that secretly got off to girls changing. The man had a lot of self respect for himself and for the women he interacted with. However, he couldn’t deny the number of occasions he’d watch you change and not have the urge to touch himself.

You stood out to him with your warm eyes and welcoming smile when you bumped into each other in the courtyard. It felt wrong for him to engage in any kind of inappropriate activity with you in mind. He felt like he was ruining the kind hearted being that you were.

Yet, for a brief, fleeting moment, Jungkook could’ve sworn you were giving him permission. He had to do a double take to make sure you were actually moving closer to your window and it wasn’t just an illusion.

Were you allowing this?

Yes you were.

This mutual pining between you and the man living opposite your apartment complex was tiresome. Why would you let him stare so much if you weren’t into him?

You reached over for your phone on your desk, sending Jungkook a quick message.

you: how much longer are we gonna keep staring at each other?

Jungkook’s phone buzzed beside him and he set his glass of wine down, patting his sweaty palms down on his thighs and opening the message you sent him.

He needed time to think of a casual, yet cool response, but before he could do that, you’d sent him a picture of yourself; a reflection of your body in front of the window, ankles crossed one over the other and your flash on, and Jungkook could just about make out the top of his head in the picture on the other side of the window.

He was embarrassed at how easily swayed he was by you, but how could he not be? You had your whole body out for him and him only and the thought made him swell with pride.

jungkook: i’m struggling to keep myself at bay..

With that being said, he pulled out his camera and snapped a shot of the raging boner swelling against his dress pants, and the moment he sent it to you, you gasped.

You didn’t realise he was sporting a whole rod between his legs, and the thought of him fucking into your desperate cunt, splitting you open the way you wanted made your legs buckle. You looked up to find Jungkook smirking right at you, waving his phone in his hand.

Oh, he wants to get cocky?

You raise your hand to give him a taunting wave whilst moving away from the window, sitting yourself down at the edge of your bed, where he could see you, and deliberately parting your legs to give him a distant view of your glistening cunt, all drenched in the arousal he triggered.

you: come on, mr jeon

we’ve been at this game for weeks

Your hand sneaks it’s way between your legs, copping a feel of the sticky mess painted over your slick folds as you looked up at the window, Jungkook watching you with blown out pupils and his eyes solely focused on the pussy he’d been craving.

you: i don’t think i can go another night touching myself without you…

Jungkook didn’t realise how hard he was clenching his fists right now. He wanted to storm over to your apartment and force his cock down your throat just the way you wanted him to, but he didn’t seem to have the guts, nor the strength to stand up right now, especially with the boner in his pants. It hurt to move.

jungkook: oh, is that right?

how cute.

It dawned upon him how often he stared at you, and that was obviously equivalent to the number of times you got off to him. Which was a lot.

jungkook: you enjoy being watched, don’t you, y/n?

that’s why you never get mad at me for watching you

you’re much dirtier than i thought

do you let everyone watch you undress?

You were barely paying attention to the messages blowing up your phone, too busy running your middle finger up and down your slit and protruding at your entrance and imagining Jungkook’s long, thick, tatted digits burying deep inside of you.

you: just you, mr jeon…

By now, Jungkook had a firm fist wrapped around the base of throbbing cock, pumping himself silly as he read your message and using the pad of his thumb to spread the excess precum leaking from the head of his cock. He lifted his head up from his phone to look straight at you, your body sprawled over your bed as your fingers daintily skimmed over your cunt, making your body shudder at the slightest contact.

you: wish you were here..

it’s getting boring doing this all alone :(

jungkook: i can imagine, i’ve been holding myself back for weeks

He looked up from his screen to see you still teasing yourself, and he felt bad for not being there with you.

jungkook: don’t be shy, baby

go ahead and slide that finger in for me

nice n slow

You drop your phone beside you and prop yourself up on your elbows, looking out the window to see Jungkook motioning his arm up and down, giving you all the more reason to believe he was getting off right now.

Despite your assumption, you did as he said anyway, carefully pushing your middle finger and eliciting a quiet gasp.

Jungkook had a keen eye on you, feeling his cock grow harder as he watched your body react outwardly. He’d barely made you do anything and you were already a writhing mess.

jungkook: you didn’t think to tell me that you touch yourself every night because of me?

we could’ve dealt with this issue sooner rather than later

God, if Jungkook knew these illicit feelings were mutual, he would’ve fucked you way before now, but he was too busy being careful.

Maybe he should stop being so cautious around you.

you: jungkook, i can’t do this

i want your fingers :(

You were on the verge of throwing your phone across the room out of frustration. You were tired of using the same fingers to seek pleasure, you needed something different.

jungkook: we can’t always get what we want

come on, i’m sure someone as desperate as you would find other ways to fuck herself

Your middle and index finger were moving in and out of you at a gradual pace, as you set your phone down between your legs and opened up your camera, adjusting the angle so he could see the extravagant mess you were making, before tapping the red button to record.

Jungkook was slouched in his seat, quiet groans falling from his lips and upon setting his eyes on the attachment you sent him, the man was sitting upright again, awe overtaking his features as he watched the video intently.

He had his phone volume at the max, so as soon as he pressed play, his ears were met with the sounds of your soft breaths and subtle moans, but it wasn’t enough to distract him from the main show; your digits disappearing far between your legs before reappearing completely coated in your arousal.

“Shit.. prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

Jungkook continued to watch, his palm still wrapped around the base of his cock and he pumped himself slowly, imagining you whimpering and begging for his touch you so dearly couldn’t have.

He was caught off guard the when you completely retracted your digits, instead landing a light smack to your gushing pussy which triggered your body to jerk against the mattress and curse.

“Oh, Jungkook.. fuck—! Please.. I can’t do this on my own. Please don’t make me do this on my own..”

He wasn’t hearing things was he? You were definitely crying and moaning his name in the video.

Jungkook was brought out of his daydream when you smacked your weeping cunt again and then collecting the leaking mess from between your legs to then shove them past your lips.

Your moans were muffled due to your mouth being full, but Jungkook could tell from a mile away you were enjoying yourself.

And hell, he wanted to enjoy himself too.

Hurriedly tucking himself back into his dress pants, he shoved his phone into his pocket and practically zoomed over to your apartment. He knew where you lived and how you kept a spare key under your door mat (from the countless interactions he had with you) and when he reached your door, he fumbled to unlock it, his hands breaking out into a sweat and his boner not providing him much assistance in calming down.

You were too far gone to notice Jungkook had already welcomed himself into your home. Your body had sunk further into the mattress as your fingers did the same, diving between your folds and presumably bottoming out when you couldn’t handle anymore.

“You still can’t get off on your own?”

Jungkook’s voice forces every movement in your body to still.

You forced yourself up and off the bed, grabbing your sheets in a bid to cover up, but what was the point? He’d seen you naked multiple times.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come over so soon..” you say, fumbling with your sheets and Jungkook could only laugh.

“You’re acting as if you didn’t send me that video of you crying for me, Y/N. I can’t leave you like that now, can I?” Jungkook shook his head at analysing your features to see that there were remnants of tears marking your flushed cheeks, and it was so endearing for him to look at.

“You could’ve at least knocked—”

“—Why’d you stop?” he asks, gesturing towards your bed and and your shielded body. “I figured you’d keep going.”

You’re about to respond and defend your case, but before you could open your mouth, Jungkook was approaching you at high speed, reaching his hand out to wrap securely around your throat as he shoved his lips against yours.

As expected, you were melting against him, your body easing up and limbs no longer tense, your sheets were falling off your body and pooling around your ankles. A shudder ran down your spine and Jungkook took it as an opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips and tighten his hold around your neck, keeping you in place for his better advantage.

His boner was pressed against your stomach as your arms hung loosely by your sides, allowing the man to position and handle you as he pleased “You gonna let me take you however I want?” he mumbles against your lips, pushing your body back towards the window until you couldn’t go any further. “Your tight cunt isn’t ready for me, Y/N. We gotta stretch you out just right for this to work.”

You simply hum, already feeling a little light headed having not taken a breath in the last two minutes, but thankfully Jungkook noticed, briefly retracting his hand from around your throat and pulling away from you so you could both take a breather.

Only the exchange of heavy breaths were filling your bedroom, as Jungkook took in the state of you; your lips all puffy and swollen, cheeks flushed pink and stained with tears from earlier on, and just the slightest hint of red adorning your neck from where his hands previously sat. Your tits were sat perfectly, nipples hardened and briskly brushing against the mesh material of his shirt.

You didn’t have much time to wrap your head around what was going on, because before you knew it, Jungkook settled his hands tightly on your hips and forcing you to turn around, pushing you up against the window with your ass out for him to rock himself against you from behind.

“You’re gonna look out that window, and you’re gonna imagine I’m sitting there, watching you get the life fucked out of you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look straight ahead at the only apartment that had its lights on.

Who were you to say no to him?

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please do not repost my works onto any platforms.

#sxtaep #bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #bts oneshot #bts imagine #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop smut

[shintin]

The Wacky Widow's Woes

↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Comedy one-shot

Summary: In a twist of fate, the most obnoxious person on Earth, Gojo Satoru, appeared by your hospital bed. Clearly, the universe had a wicked sense of humor.

Word count: 5k.

Genre: comedy, fluff, yapping (Jujutsu Kaisen au).

Warnings/Tags: humor, no angst, whipped Satoru Gojo, bitchy reader, a lot of jokes about chapter 236 of the JJK manga (my personal healing process), mention of Kitkat, prepare for Gojo's nauseating love for his wife, who's probably sick of him.

Notes: I hope you laugh your ass off while reading this.

You can read my fics on AO3. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK.

On a very, very, very dull autumn afternoon, we find ourselves in a hospital room where its fancy ass curtains are just letting in enough sunlight to cast a gloomy, eerie glow.

There, on the bed, lies a woman who seems to have become one with the medical equipment—or, better to say, a high-tech octopus. Wires and tubes sprout from her body like overgrown vines, connecting her to an orchestra of beeping machines. It's like a twisted version of a modern art installation, where chaos and order collide in a symphony of medical mayhem.

The woman, blissfully oblivious to the cacophony surrounding her, snores away, blissfully lost in dreamland. It's almost comical how she manages to find solace amidst the tangled wires and the chorus of beeps. One might wonder if she's dreaming of a magical place where the cables turn into candy canes and the machines play cheerful tunes instead of somber heartbeats.

The lighting in the room sucks, perhaps to match the mood or new architectural ambiance design. For fuck's sake, who knows! Shadows dance across the walls, conspiring with the flickering fluorescent lights to create an atmosphere that's equal parts unsettling and strangely fascinating.

As if to bring a touch of irony to the scene, a sad excuse for a vase sits on a nearby table, barely holding onto life. Its wilted flowers, once vibrant and alive, now resemble a bouquet of autumn hues gone horribly wrong. It's a symbolic reminder that beauty is fleeting, just like the woman's health, and that even in the darkness, there's a twisted kind of beauty to be found.

The room carries the unmistakable scent of sterile cleanliness, mingled with a hint of despair. It's the kind of smell that makes you want to open a window and let in some fresh air (read jump out), but alas, in this hospital room, fresh air seems like a distant memory.

Well, hold on to your hospital gown because here's a plot twist for you! Picture this: you've been envisioning this serene hospital room, reading it in all its autumnal glory, and guess what? The woman lying on that bed, surrounded by beeping machines and tubes, is none other than... drumroll... you!

Yep, you're the star of the show, ready to wake up and face your second stroke. But hey, don't worry, it's not going to be as boring as your room décor. No, no, life has decided to throw you a curveball and add a dash of excitement to your hospital stay. Who needs a peaceful recovery when you can have a stroke sequel, right?

So get ready to jolt awake and embrace the chaos! Remember, even in between unexpected events, a good sense of humor can be the best medicine. Laughter might not cure your condition, but it can certainly make the hospital experience a little more bearable. So, chin up, brave stroke survivor! Your story is about to take an exciting turn!

Well, well, well.

As you wake up from your beauty sleep, feeling as if you've been smooching a cactus all night, the machines around you decide to unleash their inner DJs with a symphony of beeps. How thoughtful of them to create an auditory masterpiece that grates on your nerves like a tone-deaf choir. Ah, music to your ears, right?

But fear not, the brave warrior of hydration! You are on a noble quest to conquer the desert that has taken residence in your mouth. Summoning every ounce of strength (and probably some residual grumpiness), you muster the strength to ascend from your pillow fortress. With your hand gracefully reaching out for that tempting glass of water, victory feels within reach.

Your hand hovers mid-air as if suspended by an invisible force, frozen in a moment of pure disbelief. Just when you think the universe couldn't possibly play a more mischievous trick on you, there he was—sitting on the couch like he owns the place—the one person you would rather avoid more than a clown with a pie in hand. Seriously, is this some cosmic prank show?

Your eyes widen in disbelief, your heart skips a beat, and you can't help but let out a little groan. It's like the universe is trying to test your resilience, throwing you into this hilariously uncomfortable situation. Oh, the irony!

You: Hell no! What the fuck are you doing here?

Right in front of your very eyes sits the epitome of style and charm—a man sporting a white shirt and black pants combo that would weaken fashion gurus at the knees. No sunglasses dare cross the path of this confident fellow, for his piercing ocean-blue eyes need no protection from the sun's feeble attempts to outshine them.

But wait, there's more! Let's not forget about his head adorned with fluffy white hair that could rival the fluffiest clouds. Ugh!

Satoru: Hello to you too, love!

He strikes a pose that screams, "I'm the king of this couch!" With one leg casually crossed over the other and his arms spread wide on the back of the couch, he's claiming his throne in the most nonchalant and hilarious way possible.

Satoru: Is this how you greet your beloved husband?

You: Fuck off!

With the speed of a ninja on a caffeine high, you swiftly pull the blanket up to your chest, fully aware that the hospital gowns offer about as much coverage as a single sheet of tissue paper. Yes, those flimsy garments are the Victoria's Secret of the medical world—barely there and leaving little to the imagination! And just when you thought the situation couldn't get any more entertaining, you catch a glimpse of his famous smile. Asshole! Is he peeping on you?

Satoru: Aha! The feisty spirit lives on! Missed your sassy attitude.

He grins like a mischievous little rascal who just stumbled upon a secret stash of dad jokes, except it's a porn website!

Satoru: And, of course, your perked-up nipples!

Summoning your inner grumpy penguin, you dramatically cross your arms over your chest, shooting him a glare that could make a grizzly bear retreat in fear.

You: well, Mr. White-Haired Head with a stinky smirk and eyes bluer than a bottle of Windex, I didn't miss you AT ALL!

Satoru: Why, oh why, did you dye your hair white if you claim not to miss me, baby? Is it some secret signal to the hair gods that you're ready to experience the adventure of life without my captivating presence? Or perhaps it's your way of channeling the wisdom of Gandalf and Dumbledore, hoping that your newly snowy locks will grant you magical powers to forget all about me?

You: Hold your horses, chatterbox! My hair has turned snowy white without any meddling from me. No, I didn't secretly sprinkle it with magic hair dye while cackling like a mischievous sorcerer, you idiot!

Satoru: Whoopsie daisy! You've got a point there. Did I accidentally step on your delicate feelings, wise and experienced grandma?

In a grand display of determination, you muster every ounce of strength to grab the pillow behind your back, preparing to launch it at him. Alas, it seems the strength of a thousand paperclips has possessed your hands, rendering them feeble and incapable of fulfilling your pillow-throwing dreams. The valiant effort leaves you gasping for air as if you have just completed a marathon of pillow-tossing.

Satoru: Yowai mo!

He erupts into laughter, showcasing his undeniable talent as a professional tease.

You: Cut the crapola! Spill the beans! What on earth has brought you to this neck of the woods?

With your firm tone that could rival a drill sergeant's, the machine begins beeping faster than a sugar-rushed hummingbird on roller skates. It's as if the beeps are making their best impression of a hyperactive jazz band, matching the frantic tempo of your skyrocketing heart rates.

Satoru: I'll be rolling on the floor in laughter if you drop dead from the sheer intensity of your anger, Granny. Let's be real; finding inner peace is way more beneficial for you in the long run. Just saying!

You: Satoru!

Satoru: Yep, that's me. Breaking hearts and taking names. Can't a poor soul like me simply pay a visit to my dear wife on her deathbed?

You: Hell to the no! You can't just waltz in our life whenever you please! Sorry, but you lost that VIP visiting privilege when you—

Satoru: Oh, and on that note, could that charming chick who graced you with her presence earlier be our beloved daughter?

You sigh, exasperated, and gently rub your forehead as if trying to coax that headache into submission. Ah, the joys of a headache that seems set on conquering you before any actual sickness does. With a dramatic sweep of your hand across your face, you channel your inner drama queen and then grab your neck.

You: Oh, please, for the love of all that is awkward, just tell me that you didn't try to work your "smooth moves" on her.

Satoru: I was this close to making a move, you know? She's like a spitting image of when I was head over heels for you! It's like you've managed to clone yourself or something. Should I be worried? Did you secretly stash away all my precious genes and hoard them for your own amusement? Well, I guess I can't blame you for wanting to keep all those sperms to yourself! But seriously, she doesn't look like me at all. I am hurt!

He pouts like a baby, forever stuck in his eternal state of immaturity, but you aren't about to let that deter you. With an air of defiance, you casually lean against the hospital bed board, gazing intently at the serum making its grand entrance into your veins. Oh, and that obnoxious machine chiming away? You can't help but wish it could just shut up.

You: It's actually better for her, you know. At least she doesn't have anything that serves as a constant reminder of her absent father, who couldn't even be bothered to be present during her birth!

Your words are like a sarcasm waterfall, cascading with vicious wit. You've mastered the art of tongue-in-cheek remarks, and while you're fully aware of their potency, you couldn't care less. It's like you've got a license to sass, and you're not afraid to use it, even if it makes the world say, "Well, ain't you a delightful ray of sunshine!"

Satoru: Let's not paint the picture as if I had some glamorous options! Nope, I was bestowed with the honor of being the designated problem-solver, the one expected to handle it all while gracefully tiptoeing through—

You: Oh, pretty please! If it's not too much trouble, continue your reign as the honored one through heaven and earth, while sparing me from any additional bouts of annoyance. I must say, it's quite the talent you possess—being both honored and a master of irritation. Quite the balancing act, I must admit!

As you clench the blanket in desperation, that rebellious needle gleefully plunges itself into your hand. Fuck unexpected pain! And there, decorating your arm like a chilling masterpiece, are the bruises—trophy marks from your encounters with the needle army. Who knew injections could become an avant-garde art form? With tears welling up and the air growing thinner, it feels like the room is leaving you gasping for breath just to have a twisted sort of fun. Bravo, universe, for your fucked up sense of humor! A standing ovation for this macabre spectacle.

Satoru: Love?

You: …

Satoru: Baby?

You: …

Satoru: My Wondrous Whipped Cream Warrior, the Caramel Crusader, the Sprinkle Spritzer, the Marshmallow Maestro, the Treat Tornado, the Sugar Rush Superstar, the Jelly-filled Joy Bringer, and the Sweetness Sorceress who turns my world into a Never-ending Dessert Buffet! The Honeyed Pussy of—

You: WHAT? WHAT DO YOU WANT, SATORU?

You are wheezing like a chain-smoking asthmatic, desperately gasping for air, and his attitude is about as helpful as a wet matchstick. You and the mysteries of poor life choices! What possessed you, in that twisted moment of madness, to willingly plunge into the depths of infatuation with him? It's a dark, twisted enigma that not even the Grim Reaper could decipher.

Satoru: Are you still mad?

As you tilt your head, there he is, looking at you with those big, blue eyes, like a lost poppy desperately trying to win the "Most Heart-Melting Flower" award. What a sneaky trickster! He knows exactly what he is doing, employing his secret weapon of irresistible gazes, and darn it; it works like a charm! You can't resist the powers of those eyes, and you reluctantly surrender, cursing his effective tactics while secretly admiring his diabolical brilliance. Well played, Mr. Blue-Eyed Mother Fucker, well played.

You: I never stopped being mad at you!

Satoru: Fair, but you have to know that—

You: Spare me the creative excuses, please! You pulled off the greatest magic trick of all—knocking me up—and then poof! You disappeared into thin air, leaving me with a growing belly and a bewildered expression. Good job, Houdini!

Satoru: You're welcome, baby. But you've got to cut me some slack here! My job description practically has "Accident Enthusiast" written all over it. It's not like I wake up in the morning, rubbing my hands together, thinking, "Oh boy, I can't wait for another mishap!" So, let's blame it on my occupational hazard, shall we?

You: Oh, well, then, thank you so much for gracing us with your presence again! You chose to go down that path because, of course, you believed you were the one and only capable being in the universe. And oh, how lucky we are that you decided to leave me and our daughter behind. It's truly heartwarming to see you saunter back into our lives after years like it's just another casual stroll in the park. I mean, who needs a father figure during precious moments like birth, first words, and first steps, right? Clearly, you had more important things to attend to. Our daughter has grown up and gone through school, and I've had the pleasure of explaining why her dad couldn't be bothered to pick her up like those "normal" dads. Graduation, dating, first job—she did it all without you, and we couldn't be more grateful for your consistent absence. Now you have the audacity to—

You start coughing, and each painful gasp feels like your lungs are being ruthlessly ripped apart, leaving behind crimson stains on your once immaculate sheets and hands. And there he stands, towering tall, as handsome as the day he first stole your heart. It's just not fair that he still looks so good while sickness has mercilessly drained the life from your weary soul. He approaches you, the lingering scent of vanilla clinging to him, a bittersweet reminder of what you once cherished but now resentfully long for.

Satoru: Take a sip of water. Do you want me to help you?

Oh, he's all worried now, isn't he? But honestly, after enduring all that post-him misery, you're not about to let him off the hook just because he's offering a glass of water. Come on, you might be a little dumb, but you're not "drink-water-and-forget-all-the-pain" dumb! Nice try, buddy, but you'll need more than H2O to wash away the mess you left behind.

You: I DON'T NEED YOUR GODDAMN HELP! How about you kindly take a flying leap back to wherever you've been hiding all this time? I'm sure you've perfected your disappearing act by now. And don't forget to leave behind a trail of glittering resentment as you go, just to keep things spicy. Ta-ta, farewell, and may you step on a thousand Lego bricks on your way out!

Satoru: Listen up, partner in crime! I've had enough of leaving you to your own devices. It's been tough for me, too, and I sincerely apologize for piling on the hardship. But I learned my lesson! Starting right this very moment, I'm making a solemn vow never to ditch you again. Consider me your loyal sidekick, ready to tackle life's challenges together, even if it means enduring endless reruns of your favorite TV show or subjecting myself to your cooking experiments. We're in this for the long haul, love!

You use the sleeve of your flimsy, ridiculous gown to clumsily wipe away the blood from your mouth, all the while shooting him a perplexed look. Seriously, how on earth does he still manage to gaze at you with those doe eyes, all lovey-dovey, when you're rocking the vampire-on-a-sunlit-day aesthetic?

You: So, you decided to grace me with your presence just because I'm sick?

Satoru: Yes.

You: I see how it is! You're not here because you missed me, huh?

Satoru: Uh-oh, am I about to witness another round of your infamous anger? But hey, before you explode like a volcano, let me enlighten you that I didn't write the rulebook on how things work. Nope, not my area of expertise. Turns out, the universe didn't consult me when setting up the whole system. It seems they left me out of the committee meeting where they decided the rules of life. Classic!

You: Does it hurt?

Satoru: It hurt me badly because I snapped in half like a Kit-Kat bar. And no, there wasn't a delicious wafer filling in between, just pure pain and emotional wreckage.

You: Come on, Satoru! This is not the time for your quirky sense of humor. I mean, seriously, I saw your guts out in the open, and to top it off, ants decided to take a leisurely hike on them.

Satoru: TV producers really went all out with the graphic details, huh? Sure, I appreciate high-definition viewing, but did they need a close-up of my stuff? Talk about taking reality TV to a whole new level! I hope they provided a warning. Note to self: avoid snacking while watching shows that involve anatomical explorations!

You: SATORU!

Satoru: Alright, alright, no need to get serious! Can't a man crack a joke about his own death around here? Fine, I'll hold your hand during the whole thing. You know, I once spouted that cliché line about dying alone, but let's face it, that was a load of nonsense. Nobody goes down that final road solo. It's like a grand exit party!

You: Oh, really? So, you had some company, huh? Well, you know what they say: ignorance is bliss. I don't need the details, and my imagination can take a wild ride all on its own

Satoru: Jealousy looks good on you, love.

As he bends closer, his breath tickles your lips, making you wonder if he had onions for lunch. With a dramatic flourish, he grabs your chin as if auditioning for a cheesy romance movie. And then, like a vacuum cleaner on turbo mode, he plants a kiss that sucks the air right out of your lungs. It's like indulging in a dessert buffet filled with marshmallows, caramel, and insulin shots. Who needs a thrill ride at an amusement park when you can experience a sugar rush of epic proportions? You may be risking diabetes, but hey, at least you'll be leaving this world with a sweet tooth satisfied and an unforgettable, albeit comical, memory of that last smooch.

Unfortunately, after what feels like a fleeting eternity, he decides to break the kiss. As your eyes meet, you can't help but sneak a glance downwards, wondering if his pants harbored any surprises. Alas, it appears that either he's a master of disguise or ghosts have taught him their spectacular talent for concealment. Sneaky whores!

Satoru: Are you ready to go?

Oh, snap! Once the horniness fades away, reality hits you like a ton of bricks. Holy shit! How did you manage to forget about your daughter? Leaving her behind is definitely not the best parenting move. Time to snap back into responsible mode and give that little one the attention she deserves. Parenthood: where forgetfulness meets a reality check!

You: Will she be okay?

Satoru: She's our little munchkin. She'll be alright.

You: I want to see her for the last time.

Satoru: You can see her whenever you want.

You: WHAT?

He scratches his head, messing up his undercut, desperately trying to dodge eye contact like a game of social hide-and-seek.

Satoru: Ops! Did I just spill the beans on one of the perks of the afterlife? My bad! My master plan was to witness that priceless guilty expression on your face when we reached the pearly gates. Imagine your shock when you realized you blamed me for no reason, only to discover I had a front-row seat to all your shenanigans during all those years! Oh, the things I've seen! I know how many times you've touched yourself thinking about me! No judging, though! And yes, I know you secretly fumed when our little bundle of joy uttered "Dada" before "Mama." Don't worry, I won't tell a soul... except, you know, all the other souls up there. It's the ultimate celestial gossip!

You: WHAT? YOU KNOW EVERYTHING? THEN WHY THE FUCK YOU ASKED IF SHE'S OUR DAUGHTER?

Satoru: First, just to tickle your pickle. Second, as I cunningly planned.

You: You're still a brat!

Satoru: And you're still as beautiful as the day I lost you.

You: Smooth words, my friend, but let's not kid ourselves. I won't buy into any deceit. I'm old, wrinkled, and sick. Time and disease are killing me, just as you hated. Meanwhile, you continue to flaunt that glorious chiseled chest and those rock-hard butt cheeks.

Satoru: Thank you, ma'am, for keeping my ass in your thoughts. Speaking of which, I must confess I've made some boneheaded decisions along the way. Opting for death in the name of someone else can seem like a breeze compared to the complexity of choosing to live for them. So, kudos to you for being the badass who faced life's challenges to honor my memory.

You: I hope this is not just a dream.

Satoru: We can give it a try and see for ourselves.

As Satoru reaches out his hand, something extraordinary unfolds—the machine starts beeping. You look at the device, noticing that the time between beeps gradually increases. But then, your gaze shifts to your cherished spouse, the man whose absence has left an indelible void within you. The man with whom you would have fearlessly confronted doomsday on that fateful December 24th in 2018, had it not been for the fact that you were carrying his last trace of existence, a precious legacy nestled within your very being.

You: You feel so warm.

Satoru: Some things never change.

His hand gracefully slides towards your waist, triggering a chain reaction of chaos. Those pesky wires and tubes that were so dutifully attached to you? Well, they decide it's time for a break and go on a wild unplugging spree. It's like a rebellious dance party of freedom for those little connectors! And just when you thought things couldn't get any more exciting, your feet are about to touch the chilly floor, ready to embark on an unplanned adventure.

You: Hold up! Fetch my wheelchair for me!

Satoru: You don't need it anymore.

As you place your feet on the floor, you can't help but chuckle at the fact that your knees manage to hold up, allowing you to stand upright. The machines emit a continuous beeping sound, indicating a flat line on the monitor. Suddenly, the door swings open, and a troupe of nurses storm into the room. They swiftly gather around your motionless body lying on the bed. One nurse examines your vital signs, another administers an injection into your vein, and a third retrieves a machine to deliver cardiac shocks in an attempt to revive you. Witnessing these intense moments, you hold Satoru's hand tighter.

You: I don't want to come back.

Satoru: Are you sure?

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes and trickle down your cheeks as you gaze at him.

You: Yeah. I've spent more time living with your memory than I've had the opportunity to live alongside you.

Satoru's grip on your hand intensifies like he's determined to etch his touch into your very being. He lifts your hand delicately, planting a tender kiss upon it. Drawing you closer to him, he envelopes you in an embrace, burying your face in the warmth of his chest. With gentle affection, he presses a kiss upon the crown of your head, leaning his head upon yours.

As teardrops trickle onto your head, you find yourself clinging to him desperately, as if trying to hold onto the fragments of a shattered existence. In that agonizing moment, the harsh reality of his unfulfilled roles crashes down upon you like a relentless wave. He has endured the torment of being a husband bereft of a wife, a father denied a child, and a sensei forsaken his students.

Satoru: I will never let go of you anymore.

You: Is this just another one of those "oops, my bad" promises? You know, like when you swore to be to hold me for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health?

Satoru: Heyyy! I held you till death do us part. I even remember, the night before my, um, grand finale, I held you so good that you had spread your legs, moaning my name and begging me to hold you harder.

Just as you are ready to break free from his grasp and deliver a well-deserved bonk on his clueless head, the scene takes an unexpected turn. Your doctor rushes into the room and towards your bed, barking orders left and right, and proceeds to administer yet another mysterious injection into your poor, defenseless vein.

Deciding to redirect your attention, you avert your gaze and catch sight of your reflection in the nearby window. To your astonishment, your hair has magically reverted to its former glory, defying the clutches of time. Wrinkles? Vanished as if a skilled magician performed a grand disappearing act. You're suddenly transported back to the good ol' days of youthfulness. Bewildered, you inspect your once-bruised hands, only to find them as flawless as a newborn's.

You: Satoru? What's—

Satoru: I know, right? It turns out one of the unexpected bonuses of kicking the bucket is that you get to rock your sexiest form once again. So, brace yourself because I won't behave when you sashay around in that gorgeous drop-dead gown. I can't keep it in my pants till we arrive and I start making cream pies and babies with you!

You: Oh, my goodness! Does it actually work in the afterlife as well?

Satoru: You're referring to my... um, dick? Let me tell you, it still has the same old magic, if not a little extra pizzazz! It's like a fine wine, aging gracefully and delivering peak performance in the afterlife. Who knew there would be such perks beyond the grave?

You: No, idiot! I mean babies!

Satoru: How should I know? I made sure to wear a condom during my frisky encounters with angels.

You can't help but release an exasperated breath, causing your ears to turn as red as a tomato in a sauna. The thought of giving him a good old-fashioned strangling and sending him off to the after-afterlife has you chuckling at the absurdity of it all.

Satoru: Would it tickle your funny bone if I threw caution to the wind and played a game of "heavenly roulette" with unprotected encounters, potentially earning myself some out-of-this-world STD souvenirs?

With a masterful brow raise and a world-class eye roll, you are all set to deliver the ultimate "exit stage left" move. But he pulls off the ultimate surprise maneuver and hits you with the "Hold up, wait a minute" move. He has a secret superpower to freeze you in your snarky tracks! Goddammit! Those puppy eyes again.

Satoru: I was joking, okay? I just jerked off while watching your showering or self-exploration activities. I mean, fingering yourself while calling my name. That's it! Okay? Also, we should have a talk about that dildo you named Hollow Purple!

You: So, it seems you shamelessly watched everything, hm?

Satoru: Yes. Absolutely! I had a lot of spare time to slay, and, hey, let's not divert our attention from the Hollow Purple subject, you dirty little mouse!

You: God! Kill me already!

Satoru: Why? You're just itching to infiltrate the kingdom of my pants, aren't you?

You: You know what? I've had a change of heart. I'd rather try my chances with cosmic sickness than spend an eternity with your delightful company!

Satoru: Goodness gracious! You and your fiery temper! How on earth did you manage to cast a spell on me, making me fall for you?

You: It's common knowledge among our friends that everybody should bow down to your shameless expertise in the art of begging!

Satoru: Is that so?

He displays a smug smirk, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

Satoru: Well, we can ask when we see them.

Your eyes go from their regular setting to full-on "wide-angle lens" mode, capturing the world in all its wide-eyed wonder. It is as if someone presses the "zoom" button on your peepers, revealing a comical level of astonishment.

You: They are there, too?

Satoru: Oh boy, buckle up for Nanamin's epic rage when he discovers our fashionably late entrance!

You: Well, chop-chop! Time to hit the road! We wouldn't want to unleash the wrath of the entire afterlife just because your chatty ass decided to go on such a long monologue!

He leans in and gently kisses your forehead, intertwining his fingers with yours as he guides you towards the door. As you both stand at the doorway, you cast a lingering gaze upon the nurses and doctor, who seem to have thrown in the towel on their attempts to revive you.

Satoru: I can't wait to spook everyone alongside you. You'll forever be my always.

Author's Note: I had an absolute blast writing this.

@enchantedforest-network 🤍

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru oneshot #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru comedy #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojou #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo jjk #shintin one-shot #shintin writes

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

Dating Chishiya Headcanon's

requested?: no pairing(s): shuntarō chishiya x gn!reader, kuina x plationic!reader (mentioned), chishiya x platonic!kuina (mentioned) genre: headcanons warning(s): smutty themes in some parts (will be labeled), fluff, chishiya being whipped (again), mentions of pregnancy, chishiya smiling (:0), not proof read, mentions of alcohol summary: 𝘯/𝘢 word count: 2.1k a/n: had this in my mind for a while now, depending on how long this takes for me to right (edit:took 2 days, but i will try and do a mingyu fluff) i might not post the mingyu fluff tonight, but i will try. make sure you eat and drink something! stay safe, love yas, mwah

Pre Borderlands

oki dokes, i feel like this beautiful smexy ass man defo wouldn’t show a lot of love

especially if you both met through being doctors in training

he would try to act professional

but at home

jeesh

whole diff story there babes

i feel like he would also be quite smug with you

like the typical loving banter

definitely teases you aswell

study sessions together (if you work in the same field as him)

if not, you both do spend time together by studying (if you study for something)

but again, if not, you admire him while he studies

now

this man is a hard worker, so he will forget things, like eating properly and drinking

so you deliver food for him at work

or you eat together on break

you two also joke about the apple a day

an apple a day keeps the doctor away yk

not him tho, he’s locked in for life honey

also has a lot of stress, so if he opens up, you better listen

it takes him a while to open up to someone yk

but he also will need a lot of help with his stress

at first he doesn’t mind cuddles that much, if anything he finds them slightly worthless

“why would someone just want to… lie there, with their arms around someone?”

“because, shiya, it’s romantic, now cuddle me please”

after a while, he will get used to it, and just cuddles you to sleep every night

even if he comes home late after a shift

and he finds you already asleep, having tried to wait for him

he gets changed and cuddles into you

defo a case of you fell first but he fell harder

i don’t really think he would want kids at first

but as he falls more deeply into love, he would defo change his mind

definitely very passionate and loves you dearly

not into pda or physical touch at all, but will use acts of service and words of affirmation as a love language

you most likely have tried his doctor coat one more than once

he acts all annoyed, but really he had butterflies in his stomach

definitely thinking that he wants to put a ring on your finger

iF yOu LiKe It ThEn YoU sHoUlD pUt A rInG oN iT (see what i did there hehe)

definitely so in love with you

absolutely whipped may i say

NSFW

passionate with fucking

he definitely likes to look down where his cock splits you apart

praise, but also degrading

with his work comes a lot of stress, so he likes to take it out on you

maybe when you go to take him lunch sometimes he’ll fuck you over his desk in his office if it’s a particularly stressful day

bends you over a lot

i feel like missionary or having you bent over is his fav position

probably won’t be into quickies that much

but when he is in a rush to get to work, but you look extremely fuckable, expect him to be late

or have an extremely quick round

i feel like he can be really soft and sensual, but when he wants to be, really rough and degrading

body worship

i also feel like he won’t mind if you want to try something out

or if you want to be dom

is quite open to experimenting

nothing that he knows will hurt you tho

hes a doctor

he cares about you, so he will definitely have set up a safe word system

always makes sure what he is doing is ok

on the other hand, if he is rough

he will barely ask

he knows it’s okay though

he will ask for you permission

but as soon as he gets into it, he won’t ask

he’ll just fuck

he isn’t that vocal in bed

a few groans here and there

but nothing much

if you make more noise, he’ll probably smirk against your neck as he fucks you good

he knows what he’s doing is good when he makes you cum over and over again

aftercare is the best

running you a bath and bathing together

being warm with your naked bodies pressed together

probably leads to another round on some nights tbf

but will massage the shampoo and conditioner into your scalp

he knows how to treat you well after all

Borderlands

if you two went into the borderlands together, you would already know eachother

he would want to protect you as well as he can

he knows when you’re lying about being injured

so he will help treat your injuries

he’ll be even more protective now

especially when niragi is around

he doesn’t show much love for you around anyone

in that way it shows he doesn’t have a weakness

and then people won’t torture you in response to that

so you respect him in that case

he is weak for you

he really doesn’t like seeing you hurt or in pain

so he does try his hardest to help you

he doesn’t want to see his precious little baby suffer, y’know

on the other hand, if you met in the borderlands, he probably didn’t take much of a liking to you at first

probably met through kuina at the beach

being such good friends and all

if you’re more of a party animal, he would look out for you

if you become friends after a while

also the same kind of dynamic

you fell first he fell harder

he would be very protective over you

power couple

you probably have playful banter

still not much into pda

links into what i said about niragi using you as a weakness for him

will be very romantic inside the safety of his bedroom tho

if he sees a creep looking at you, he would probably use his doctor knowledge to scare them away

i feel like the love confession would’ve come from you

kuina was probably off somewhere drinking her weight in alcohol

and you would’ve probably been tipsy

and then it just kinda spilled from you as he was talking about his doctor stuff

“that’s so funny shiya… y’know what else is funny?”

“what sweets?”

“i’m in love with you”

one thing probably led to another and you were in his bed(room) for the rest of the night

if it were more a golden retriever black cat relationship, you would be the one making allies/friends

he probably just glares at the person in the background

i feel like in the jack of hearts game, he would be dead serious

if you joked about death at any point, he would just shake his head while standing there

he would also scold you a little bit and tell you not to joke around about that kinda stuff

you, kuina and him would be such an iconic trio, chishiya with his wits, kuina with her strength and you with your charm (you can chose if you don’t like that)

you would probably be the only one who knows about him before the borderlands

and you comforted him

you didn’t really care about what he had done

NSFW

again, i feel like he would be soft and sensual

although i feel like he would be more into quickies now

definitely missionary as his fav position

he just loves to watch where your bodies connect, yk

still a shit ton of praise from him

and if he saves you during a game, you would insist on giving him a blowjob

he would probably try to turn it down tho

but you insist, so he lets you

when you do have time though, he will fuck you senseless

making sure you can’t walk properly the day after

he also likes watching you ride him, being all cocky as he holds your hips while you bounce up and down onto his large cock

he would be so fucking cocky when he hears your moans for the first time

“is my cock so big baby? you think you can take it? huh”

“ngh, shiya, gonna cum”

he’s definitely got a big dick, never mind his height (i’m literally the same height as him lmao)

hes just our short king yk

but hes good in bed

yk that stereotype that doctors are really good at sex because they know all about the human body?

yeah, i thoroughly believe that that’s chishiya’s sex life in a few simple words

fight me

literally fight me

he defo likes degrading, but in his own personal chishiya way, yk

i also feel like he would like to eat you out icl (when he has time ofc)

and swallowing your cum

keeping on going and overstimulating you

just to get you worked up for his cock

he would also like to see you suck on his cock like his good little girl you are

i will write fics and drabbles about this, i swear on it

i also feel like he would be into jealous sex

like not letting you touch him while he sucks your clit

maybe tying your hands above your head

fucking you until your begging him to stop

but he won’t because you haven’t used your safe word yet

maybe he sees another guy flirting with you

so he drags you to his room and fucks you

and if the guy is in earshot he makes sure that he can hear your oh-so pretty moans

makes you scream while your impaled on his cock to get the guy to back off

at the end of the day he loves you and wants the best for you

even if the best thing for you is screaming and creaming all over his cock

Post-Borderlands

i fully believe in the theory that chishiya remembers the borderlands

so when he wakes up, his first thought will probably be you

even if you don’t remember him at all, he would enjoy falling in love with you all over again

but if you were like a sunshine person, he would love your energy fr

he would js wanna fall in love with you again (not that he ever fell out of it)

but if we believe in the fact that he doesn’t remember the borderlands

he would so fall in love with you all over again

if you two were in the same hospital room

you two would probably talk every day

and he would grow to love you

even if he didn’t at first

after a few months of being out of the borderlands (or out of hospital, you choose)

he would probably take you on a date

cute little restaurant

he has that doctor money ykyk

sugar daddy fr

would defo want to settle down and start a family with you

if you have been dating for a few months by then

he would ask you to move in with him

you would ofc say yes (who wouldn’t, its chishiya mate)

i feel like as a father, he would be such a good dad

girl dad fr

he wouldn’t care the gender tho

he would make sure with their upbringing, he was the best dad

made sure they were healthy and that

also during the pregnancy, he would do all of the stuff you needed to do (if you get pregnant)

like lift heavy things

cook

clean

wash the dishes

wash the clothes

etc etc

would have his hands all over your baby bump

kiss it

probably not talk to it (its still chishiya babes)

all that romantic shit fr

or if you adopt, he would love the kid all the same

even if he isn’t the bio dad

he would still love his kids (i will write smt with dad chishiya at some point, dw)

and you

he would love you more that the moon and stars combined

NSFW

i think you know what imma say here

soft and sensual

definitely has more time

so he would like to eat you out

overstim you

like looking down at you while you suck his cock

all that jazz (or should i say jizz😉)

loves fingering you

i stand by what i said with him being good at sex with his doctor abilities

still stands for jealous sex

i feel like he would try to memorise all the parts of your bodies that you love being touched and makes you feel the best

he just wants his baby to feel the best

i feel like he would really like to keep your hands above your head while he fucks you

he likes to hear your moans (if your children ain’t home, we don’t wanna traumatise em today)

but yeah

he loves you so much and would to anything for you at the end of the day

#alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #chishiya fluff #chishiya smut

[transmutationisms]

I would love to hear more of your thoughts on House & its relation to the detective genre ! I think that house (completely accidentally and very badly) stumbles into a good critique of how doctors & medical structures view addicts & disabled people, with house being a horrible hegemonic mr malpractice to his patients frequently yet half is series is unironically just about all the injustice/mistreatment he faces because his doctor colleagues can’t see him as a person but only as a problem to be solved/rehabbed/therapized/institutionalized/treated like a child with stolen candy/treated like a criminal. and then it also randomly takes an incredibly pro MAID stance. which isn’t really part of this but I just remembered how batshit insane that show was. and then chase killed a dictator and I feel like the show was squarely on his side for that one. Anyway. Do you have thoughts? I really like house.

ok here's my house md take. like a lot of medical dramas, the show essentially relies for its dramatic appeal on the construal of patients as gross, weird, and stupid—rubes who are too uneducated and self-serving in their petty lies to solve their own bodies, and thus need the intervention of house to fix them. this is standard for the genre, although slightly meaner on house than on some other examples (cf. grey's or even the older and soapier generation of these shows). i don't even think house committing malpractice is all that new; it's relatively common as a plot point that positions the noble rule-breaking doctor as someone who 'does what needs to be done' and skirts the bureaucratic red tape to follow their own superior judgment. what makes house more interesting is that from the get-go, house himself is both a doctor and an unwilling patient. in itself this isn't a tension that's new to the medical soap (injuring a major character is pretty par for the course) but house's particular interactions with the ruling biomedical epistemology are, as you point out, characterised by hostility and resistance, and the show frequently either sides with house, or at least leaves it somewhat up to the viewer to decide whether house is right to resist the pathologisation that cuddy and wilson try to impose on him.

this is kind of a tricky line to walk for 7 seasons or however long the show is. my recollection is there are episodes, for example, where it's very clear that house's pain is physical, and the writers use this to morally justify his vicodin use. this is obviously not a full-throated defence of opioid users, but it is at least pointing to a position on chronic pain that allows for the possibility that for some people, long-term use of drugs with a high addiction potential and side effects is legitimately the best thing. but, this messaging is also undercut by the fact that it's primetime television, they need to make drama, and there are definitely also episodes where house is framed as potentially lying about his pain, or at least mistaking a somatic problem for a physical one, which the writers often (not always, but often) present as evidence that actually, house shouldn't be trusted to make his own decisions about drug use, and ideally should be 'de-toxed' and probably sent to cbt or whatever. of course all of these considerations are also contextualised by the fact that house is, again, not just a patient but a doctor: his right and ability to make these types of calls for himself is, it's suggested, a result of his having attained medical education and credentials. the patients who come to be treated by him are seldom, if ever, given this same level of consideration or presumed to have sufficient self-awareness to make their own medical decisions. this isn't to say they're portrayed entirely unsympathetically, but ultimately the narrative engine of the show relies on house being the smartest guy in the room (though ofc, sometimes tragically 'held back by his addiction').

so, although there are moments on the show that genuinely transgress some of the norms of the med-drama genre, i have never agreed with people who thought that the show as a whole was presenting any sustained critique of the medical system, the treatment of chronic pain/disability, or the power-imbalanced doctor-patient relationship. ultimately all authority on house md is supposed to emanate from the physician, or the physician's superiors (cuddy as a 'check' on house, though sometimes a failed one! again because of the need to generate drama for like 140 episodes), and at its most radical the show is really only capable of presenting house himself as an out-of-control aberration whose existence strains the existing system rather than being produced by it.

this is where i think the comparison to the cop show genre becomes more clarifying. house md never made a secret of being an interpolation of the detective genre, specifically sherlock holmes. however, i'm not sure i've ever really seen writing on the show that analyses what effect this actually has on house. like police, doctors are tasked with maintaining certain social norms; the dichotomy between policing and medicine isn't even a solid line, as criminality is frequently rhetorically construed as a pathology in itself and medical authorities can and do have recourse to carceral systems in order to discipline and confine recalcitrant patients, the 'criminally insane', addicts, and so forth. (policing has historically also been understood in a more expansive sense than how we use the word today; our understanding of the medical/public health system as separate from police authority is arguably more to do with university credentialling than the actual exercise of social and political power).

so, if we want to be serious about the portrayal of medicine in popular culture (i am always serious about this) then we're necessarily talking about broader systems of power, social control, and discipline, and doubly so on a show like house that is explicitly inspired by detective fiction. this is where house md is most ideologically objectionable to me: as with the trope of the cop who breaks all the rules, house is basically positioned in one of two ways throughout the show. either he's a lone genius who alone is willing to achieve noble ends (cure) through distasteful means (breaking into patients' homes, berating them, performing risky interventions on them, &c), or—and this is rarer on house but does happen—he's portrayed as genuinely crossing an ethical line, in which case he's a kind of monstrous aberration from the normal, ethical functioning of the medical system, often represented metonymously by the objections that cuddy, wilson, or house's underlings raise. in both of these cases, as with copaganda, the function is ultimately to reinforce the idea that doctors, though occasionally capable of human error, are prima facie wiser than their patients, looking out for their patients' best interests, and performing noble social roles as healers. house, ofc, is very rarely willing to admit that he has any underlying ethical motivations, though much of the show is driven by the flashes where he is revealed to 'secretly' care about another person (often wilson) and anyway, the construction of an ethical society in which all individual actors are motivated solely by selfish interests is a very established rhetorical move for those interested in defending liberal capitalist societies (cf. charles darwin, thomas malthus, adam smith, &c).

because of television's need to generate profit via audience engagement, house md always relied on a certain level of shock or at least provocation in order to sustain itself. so, there are certain aberrations from the more overtly doctor-valorising medical dramas, like the suggestion (sometimes tongue-in-cheek) that house was better at his job when he was mildly high on opioids. this was, for the reasons outlined above, never a serious entry into political critique, but it was at least refreshing in a certain way as a departure from, eg, the portrayal of addiction and drug use that we see on grey's, which is completely limited to the medicalised AA narrative of 'recovery' as a battle against the malevolent intervention of an external chemical agent. which is to say that although house md is ultimately reactionary in the way we should expect from an american tv show, it did at least dabble in a certain level of caustic iconoclasm that allowed limited departures from the genre conventions. even with what was ultimately a pretty solid vindication of the anti-opioid narrative, the show does stand out in my mind as one of the few very popular presentations of any kind of alternative stance on chronic drug use. that it's usually put in house's own mouth means it is occasionally legitimated by his epistemological authority as a physician, though ofc ultimately this authority is challenged not through a critique of the medical system, but by presenting house as individually and aberrantly licentious, undisciplined, and insane—and his chronic pain/disability are both a justification for this, and a shorthand for conveying it.

#house md

[ryuwonieebae]

𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓

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𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 (에스쿱스), Imagines, One-shot

Genre : fluff, romance

Pairing : Dad!Seungcheol x fem!reader

Warning : use of pet names, Scoups is scared of y/n!

A/n : This fanfiction is purely based on my imagination only. It's totally fictional. I hope this is good enough to make you guys happy. I'm still learning to write creatively. Thank you for supporting me. It means a lot to me. Thanks to my besties too<3...

When you thought that your daughter is a soft girl but boy she proved you wrong...

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"Mommy! mommy!" your 5-year-old daughter came running excitedly while calling out to you. Her excitement made you curious. With her tiny steps, and her dimple smile which she inherited from her dad, she looked even more adorable.

"Slow down, sweetheart. You might fall" you said in your most calming tone, slowly crouching down to her height.

"It doesn't matter. But what matters now is that I punched a boy!" she stated while giving you an innocent smile while your jaw dropped.

"You did what!? Choi Seung-hee! It's not–"

"Before you scold me listen to the story. So, actually what happened was (a huge sigh). I-was-minding-my-own-business-when-that-kid-came-and-started-teasing-me-and-it-made-me-angry-an–"

"Okay okay enough, I got the point but still punching someone isn't a good deed, right"

Seunghee nodded

"What if he tells about it to his parents? You might get scolded, sweetheart" even though you were disappointed, you couldn't be mad at your daughter. After all, she's just 5.

"Don't worry, mommy. I blackmailed him by saying that I'll will smack him again and again if he told about it to anyone" that's when you realised who could be behind this drama.

"You know what? Go to your room, dear. I'll talk to you later" with a reassuring smile, you sent your daughter back to her bedroom.

[FLASHBACK]

"Yah! YOU! ASPARAGUSEU! How DARE you touch my book!?

"I just touched it! You shorty!"

"You touched it!" you hit his head so hard that he felt like the whole world started to spin. Anger took over 10-year-old Seungcheol as he pulled 8-year-old y/n's braid causing her to flinch. You roared and pulled his short hair back which ended up being a big fight for no reason.

The front door opened revealing excited Seungcheol with two bouquets, one larger than the other filled with colourful roses and chocolates while the other one was decorated with baby breaths and a cute teddy bear.

Seunghee ran towards him with a wide grin, showing off her dimple. Seungcheol dropped his things and carefully placed the bouquets on the ground while crouching as soon as he saw his adorable daughter heading towards him. He scooped his daughter and embraced her, placing kisses all over her face.

Seunghee giggled and whispered something in Seungcheol's ear which he responded by nodding his head. He carefully put his daughter as if she's fragile. He made a shushing sound cutely and tiptoed into the house like a pro thief with his daughter following her dad's act.

"CHOI SEUNGCHEOL... "

Seungcheol stopped in his tracks and turned around only to catch the sight of you shooting death glares at him. He was panicking but managed to form a fake smile.

"I need an explanation" shiver ran down his spine at your demanding tone. No one would've expected the most fearsome person to be scared of his wife. Seunghee sprinted away while Seungcheol went after his precious wife.

"Explain"

"Babe, Seunghee told me that a kid is teasing her. I don't want our daughter to be bullied so"

"So?"

"I'm the one who told her to punch the boy"

"Do know how problematic and spoiled she could become if you kept telling her to hit kids and spoiling her. I wonder if she has anger issues at this age"

"I know but don't you think she has to know how to protect herself and about her anger, I don't think you need an explanation. We're her parents after all"

"She's just a kid, Cheol. Plus, as her parents we should take proper action by telling to the teacher not influencing her to hit someone"

Seungcheol took hold of your hand and made you sit on the soft bed when he noticed how much you were getting stressed. He slowly caressed your hand leisurely and pestered a kiss on your temple, washing away all your stress.

"I'm sorry, okay? Don't forget that we also used to be like this when we were her age"

Seungcheol apologised sincerely and fondled your 7-month belly delicately.

"You shouldn't be stressed, remember? It's not good for our baby"

"Sometimes I indeed wanna punch your papa but I'm afraid that his charming visuals will be ruined. Life is cruel isn't it?" you questioned your unborn baby who had no idea what was going on.

"Look who's speaking about cruelty" Seungcheol rolled his eyes in a teasing way only to earn a hard smack from you.

"Okay okay calm down my raging wife" he uttered while patting your head, embracing you, and planting butterfly kisses on your neck and your belly. You tittered stroking Seungcheol's blonde hair knowing how your unborn baby will grow up having a big sister like Seunghee.

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#choi seungcheol #scoups #scoups x reader #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff #seventeen seungcheol #scoups fanfic #scoups fluff #seungcheol imagines #seventeen #svt #imagine #fictional story #svt imagines #svt masterlist #carat #kpopidol #svt oneshot #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #seventeen au #seventeen fanfiction

[itsastrobixch]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PART 5 🌹Chiron in 1st house people can't seem to relax in pictures. They always either seem tensed, drawn like a bow string in photos.

🌹Lilith in 4th in my opinion isn't just not getting along with the women in their family, but being and growing up alienated from their relatives and family. They loose touch with their ancestral roots or there is some sort of shame associated with their identity in that regard. It's like they almost try to reject that part of themselves when presenting themselves to others. they are ashamed of, in this case, anything to do with certain facets of their family.

🌹Count yourself lucky if an air sign comes to you with their problems, and ask for ur opinion. They may seem confident, just like fire signs and like they can handle it all on their own, but while fire signs bulldoze through the issue without thinking twice, the air people have come up with 1000's of ways this scenario could play out and are internally freaking out lmao

🌹Mercury aspecting Neptune people are either excellent liars and manipulators ( in the sense they can manipulate any situation to their advantage) or they suck at lying and everyone knows when they're bluffing. It's usually indicated by the positive or negative aspects, both planets make.

🌹I don't know where the bad rep about having Natal mercury Rx and communication comes from. people say They turn the influence of mercury inwards, an in some ways, yeah true. They may make the individuals think things much more thoroughly before they talk, Make sure their point is clearly communicated etc etc. This actually makes them an excellent communicator. It doesn't interfere with the expression of mercury in my opinion. For that, we have to look at the sign mercury's present in and the aspects it makes.

🌹Sun conjunct Mercury people usually read a lot, and the sign it conjuncts in can show their favorite genre or the themes they may like in their books. For ex : I have it in Libra and of course I'm a sucker for those sweet sweet romance and Smutty novels.

🌹Libras are NOT pushovers. we need to emphasise this more lol. They will look like they're fluttering around here and there trying to decide on something. But in actuality they have already decided and they just weighing the pros and cons of that. Yeah they are an air sign but they're cardinal air. You can't convince cardinal people to move a fingernail if they don't wanna lmao

🌹Uranus and or Mercury in 3rd house, the house of mind, have a lot of ideas. But they're all either scattered or they come and go in a fleet, with the person not even conscious of it, much less process it and write it down. But sometimes their ideas are electric and revolutionary, especially Uranus, solving stuff in very unconventional ways and surprising everyone with their eccentric genius.

🌹If an air sign texts u DAILY, keeps in touch with you DAILY, then they love you lmao.. they take a minimum of 3 to 6 business days to text people back..so if they do it daily, consider yourself occupying a high position in an air signs life 😂

🌹Venus - Neptune pisces venus 🤝 Venus Pluto scorpio venus : Falling for unattainable and elusive people and giving them more chances than they deserve.

🌹The ascendant of your ascendant persona chart also determines some of your physical features, it's not just your asc that determines your physical structure, and your ascendant of your ascendant persona chart isn't just how people see you. The sign your ascendant persona is in will contribute some factors in your appearance too. Along with the planets in 1st house if u have any.

🌹For example a sag rising with a Taurus in their asc persona, will have good thighs and legs but will also be very curvy and soft, with full lips and some venusian features.

🌹 Venus Pluto and scorpio venus people, being in love is their addiction. Not the person they fall in love with like most people assume, but the feelings their lover evoke in them, the way they lose themselves in their partner, and become one with them, that is their addiction.

🌹word of the wise : don't argue with people who have personal planets in Virgo. You'll be humiliated and proved wrong. Straight up. They don't get into arguments which aren't logical or which they aren't sure they'll win. So they go in prepared and armed. They're masters of rubbing Salt in the wounds

🌹 this is just a theory, but hear me out. Our 1st house and the planets in them have a large influence on our appearance. But..i also think, our 6th house plays a part in it too. Our 6th house affects our appearance too but in am indirect way. Our 6th house rules our health right and under that comes our weight, likes and dislikes in terms of food, our BMI etc.

🌹 case on point, me. So I'm a Sagittarius ascendant, and I have good hips and thighs. But I'm not tall. And I'm very much curvy. Although sag rising tends to produce that too, I've a fuller venusian figure. And i have Taurus in 6th house.

#astrology #zodiac #astro notes #astrology observations #zodiac signs #astrology notes #astro signs #astrology signs #astrology community #astro community #asteroids #asteroids in astrology #astroblr #mine #astro posts #astro observations

[joongbin]

So you know how skz just had their fan meeting?

Than how do you think skz will react to their crush (member reader) who coming from an underground dancing and rapping past, knowing how to freestyle really well in both categories and being a pro with b boying/dance break, who usually doesn't sing a lot (very uncommon for him to sing) and has a voice as deep as felix's if not deeper 👀 when he raps, decieds to show off his singing to everyone and their mama where when he sings reader has this really strong, drop dead gorgous, stunning, show stopping oper-ish and/or falsetto-ish voice.

Tbh honest I was listening to dimash's cover of vitas's opera N⁰2- дом мой достроен when this idea came up to my mind

➤ NOT THE USUAL. - SKZ!OT8

꒰ having a deep voice, being good at freestyling in both rap and dancing. you were good at everything! except, stays haven't heard you sing. not even once.

+ pairings: skz!ot8 x 9thmbr!m!reader (not seperate)

× warnings: none.

# genre: idk...

& a/n:: idk how the fanmeeting went so... its short.. 😭

You entered the stage with your members, smiling and waving at all the stays that were infront of you.

The eight of you performed multiple songs that were in the 5 STAR album, such as ITEM, S-CLASS, and more. Your part was loved by stays, your deep voice echoing through the stadium.

After the performance, you all decided to rest and play games prepared for you. You sat down on chairs and played the first game, Q&A session.

You each opened a question that was on a piece of paper and read it out. Your question was, ‘ could you tell STAY about your past? ’

You chuckled at the question before answering it.

“ Well, I come from an underground rapping and dancing. That was my training before joining JYP, it was way more fun there than it was at JYP's. I could show you guys some freestyle rapping and dancing.. ”

You smiled at STAYs as they screamed their lungs out, ultimately ending with you laughing and falling on your knees.

You cleared your throat before starting your rap, that mainly consisted of complimenting the other members while you danced to whatever beat you made up within your rap.

Everyone loved it. You were sweating and panting, pushing your hair back a little as you smiled, enjoying the atmosphere you set.

-

As the fanmeeting went on, you were asked to sing a song by Felix. You chuckled, rubbing your arm with a nervous smile.

You decided to sing; (insert song). You liked this song alot, so why not show STAY your favourite song while singing it?

You put the microphone in front of your lips, smiling as you tried to hold in your laugh. The DJs at the back played the songs' karaoke version, and you started singing.

Your deep voice echoed through the whole fanmeeting, you couldn't hit a few high notes due to how deep your voice was, but still, it was a performance.

After you finished singing, the entire stadium of people screamed that rung in your ears, even you couldn't hear what the members were saying after that.

Even your mates were surprised.

“ (name).. you should get more singing lines.. ” Han was head over heels for your singing voice, really, everyone was.

While the members complimented you, your cheeks heated up and you started to get a little shy. Receiving lots of compliments isn't really your thing, other than the first times people hear your voice.

You were happy after the fanmeeting. You met STAY as you high fived them, took their gifts and even recorded a few videos for them.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x y/n #skz x male reader #stray kids x male reader #bang chan x male reader #lee know x male reader #seo changbin x male reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x male reader #lee felix x male reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x male reader #kpop x male reader

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡SKZ React to Finding Out About Your Piercing In A…Certain Area♡

♡ I couldn't ask for a more unique assortment of requests to be sent my way. I love creating content for you guys. Thank you @lieslovefantasy for the request & I hope you find comfort in it ♡

♡ Pairings: ot8!skz x fem!afab!reader

♡ Genre: fluffy/suggestive

♡ Summary: You're nervous to tell the guy you're dating about your genital piercing, fearful of what he might say, but his actual reaction surprises you...

Warnings: This entire post focuses on genital piercings (nothing graphic or detailed) but if convos about vaginas make you uncomfortable then this isn't the post for you. There's also expression of sexual urges but this contains zero sexual contact ♡

I'm not a pierced gal but, if you're at all curious about it, you can find a guidebook here put together by a pro who's been doing it for ages. Stay safe babes

There's a spicier version here ♡

♡ Han's reaction can only be described as utter confusion. He hears what you're saying but it takes him a minute to process what you actually mean. None of this is because he finds it weird or unattractive that you got pierced. It's just that, up until this conversation, he didn't even know you could do that. He's genuinely fascinated though and, after a minute or so, he's staring at you with this wholesome curiosity in his eyes, like you're some work of art, eager to learn all there is to know about this new detail that makes the girl he's falling for even more interesting than she already is ♡

♡ Seungmin's convinced that you're joking. It's not unusual for you guys to say the most random thing that pops into your head just to see how the other will react so he decides to call your bluff, asking to see it since you really have it. You show him with no hesitation, holding your breath in anticipation of the usual smart ass comment leaving his lips and making you wish you hadn't told him, only it doesn't. Instead of saying something off the wall, he compliments your choice of jewelry and tells you how well it suits you. Yes, it's true that he typically takes great joy in being a pain in the ass about things but when it comes to you and your body he never wants you to question how loved it is by him ♡

♡ Felix senses right away that you're worried sick about how he'll feel. Interlocking his fingers with yours, he plants soft kisses along the back of your hand. He smiles at you, warm and gentle, assuring you that there's nothing you need to be nervous about. While he's absolutely clueless when it comes to piercings like this, it doesn't make him view you any differently than he already did. You're still the same charming, intelligent, funny girl that he has been and will always be obsessed with. Whenever you're comfortable showing it to him he'll be giddy about having the chance to see it. There's no doubt in his mind that he'll find it as beautiful as he does the rest of you ♡

♡ I.N has this friend who's best friends with a girl whose older brother's girlfriend got the same piercing as you which naturally means that, through information passed down to him, he's basically an expert on the topic. One thing though, he heard it doesn't really hurt. Something something about adrenaline. Is that true? How'd it feel? He apologizes, cuddling up to you, figuring you probably don't want to have flashbacks of that part. Either way, adrenaline high or not, he thinks you're so cool for getting it done. It's a decision that takes a lot of courage and knowledge of your identity to get done which he admires. You are, without a doubt, the most badass girl he's ever dated ♡

♡ Hyunjin has actually seen female genital piercings before. An artist friend of his did a photo series on it last summer meant to educate people on the 1001 different reasons that women choose to get them done. For some of them it had cultural or personal significance, for others, it was a spur of the moment decision they made simply because they wanted to do it. Which one is it for you? You don't have to tell him if you aren't ready but, if you choose to, you'll have his undivided attention and he'll cherish every word that leaves your lips the same way he always does. The fact that the two of you have gotten to the point that you feel safe enough to be this vulnerable has him getting low key sentimental ♡

♡ Lee Know isn't trying to be a perv or anything. He just doesn't understand how you could feel nervous about telling him something that's so insanely fucking hot. From what he's learned from 5 minutes of intently scrolling the internet, there's a chance that your piercing would make intimacy far more sensitive for you than it is for the average woman. That mischievous grin on his face says that he's more than willing to help you test it out if you haven't already. You roll your eyes when he throws out the idea that maybe he should get one too. He insists that his pain threshold is more than adequate to make getting it no big deal. After being reminded that it's not a competition, he calms down, his mind drifting back to how much fun it'll be to experiment with yours ♡

♡ Bang Chan admittedly has a hard time switching out of dad mode sometimes, often forgetting that he's with you and not his members. His instinct to make sure you're alright has him asking you how your healing went, how the experience was for you overall, and if there's anything he should or shouldn't do when you're being intimate that way he can make sure you only feel pleasure when the two of you are together. As touching as it is that he cares so much, you're a big girl and you feel safe enough with him to express your needs when they come up. You kiss him, promising him everything's fine but you'll let him know if anything changes, and he snaps out of it. He may be prone to worrying but it's only because you're so crazy important to him ♡

♡ Changbin's hugging you from behind when you tell him and this admission only makes him hug you tighter. He kisses your cute lil cheek and throws out a casual, "Oh...nice." It kind of breaks your brain that he's so unphased by finding this out. In the past when you've told people there's been some sort of reaction but you're pretty sure you'd get a stronger reaction out of him if you asked what he wanted for dinner. You question if that's all he has to say and he just shrugs, feeling that there's nothing else to say. He adores everything about the way that you express yourself externally. From the way you do your makeup and hair to the way you dress, he's always drooling over whatever you do. Anything you add to that wonderful base you have is just a bonus ♡

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x female reader #bang chan x reader #changbin x reader #lee know x reader #hyunjin x reader #lee felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #han jisung x reader #stray kids headcanons

[sheep-from-rad]

SAGAU but they have taken control of your devices Warnings: I wrote ‘devices’ instead of just phones because some of us here use phones, tablets, and PCs to play the game. Crack-ish? Bulleted headcanon fic. Note: This gonna be the last fic until Wednesday (May 4) because I have exams. Don't worry, I have an Ayato enemies to lovers conceptualizing right now, a Zhongli series and a future series based on this fic. See you guys later! Masterlist

Setting the scene, the characters get self-aware because this is a SAGAU fic but instead of you getting isekai-d to Teyvat, learning that you are a creator and someone is there impersonating you, SAGAU characters are still inside your device and you are still a player. It all started when the traveler accidentally breaks a code that later causes everyone to be wide awake. From then on, they are able to converse with you from the screen. 

Later on the traveler learnt that he’s able to control the devices around it and so do the others. This is where chaos started.

Your alarm clock and its usual ringtone? It’s now under the control of the characters. One day you’ll wake up with Venti’s soft singing and lyre music, some days it’s Xiangling or Noelle  telling you to get up for a filling breakfast. Oh you don’t want to get up? Be prepared for Paimon screaming her tiny lungs at you for hours.

Characters like Keqing and Ganyu took it upon themselves to take care of your to-do list and day to day schedules. Ganyu is on the tasks telling you what needs to be finished and Keqing on the scheduling. If you have school/work you don’t have to worry about missing an assignment anymore.

 If you use your devices for business, Ningguang will present herself as some kind of business partner/assistant. She’ll give you business advice and might roast you for your unnecessary purchases.

If you have games on your phone, they are not your games anymore. That is Klee’s games or Itto if he’s bored. However if it’s Otome games, it’s now Jean’s (cause it’s canon that she likes romance novels).

Don’t worry if your phone suddenly started playing music, that’s just them immersing themself in your reality.

Zhongli, Kazuha, Chongyun and even Thoma will probably like the soft and mellow-y type of music like Sleeping at Last or even Clairo. I have a headcanon that  Zhongli will really like Sleeping at Last, especially the song ‘Saturn’.

//more under the cut because this one is longer than I anticipated//

Xinyan has an ever-growing rock and rock sub-genres playlist and the last time you look at it the playlist has already 1k+ tracks on it.

Venti, Barbara, Yun Jin and Kazuha (because he watches Yun Jin’s plays) bond over musicals and will probably ask you to watch musicals with them. 

Itto has one of those hype playlist and has his tongue scrambled because he recently came across rap music and wants to go around Teyvat with his gang to do those rap battles.

Since we are on the music part, I can just imagine someone playing music at random times.

Diluc was working at the tavern and then suddenly Two Feet’ started playing. His tavern employees came home with double pay because a lot of people came in to vibe with the music and drink their feelings. 

Thoma is cleaning around the estate dancing with a broom (and doing broom guitar) with Honeypie playing and Ayato could only tap his foot on the beat. 

Ganyu trying a catch a little sleep only to get startled because of a loud beat drop

Characters like the traveler having an intense battle or argument and then suddenly a meme music starts playing thus derailing them and their enemy mid battle.

Worse scenario: Traveler missing their sibling and then suddenly ‘I love you so’ by the Walters started playing and they started ugly sobbing that made Paimon panicked.

You play a sad song and then suddenly one of them just shows up at your home screen asking you if you’re okay <3

Once they discover Karaoke is a thing, they will be singing like there’s no tomorrow

Kaeya will probably tease Diluc to sing ‘Sway by Michael Buble’ because we all agree they sound alike. 

Because they have control of devices, they can also control things such as watching videos and oh video viewing and movie nights are now common occurrences.

Thoma, Xiangling and Noelle watched those aesthetic cooking videos and tried to replicate them in their own recipes.

Paimon watches food videos and often asks Xiangling to try cook it (most of the time Xiangling agrees but the ingredients just go off charts)

Albedo watches videos about education and recently he has been memorizing the periodic table of elements in his lab and thinking about the importance of Pi

Horror movie watching with Hu Tao is now a daily thing and please take her away from those jumpscare vids because she will just randomly play it for fun.

Cartoon binge watch with everyone who wants to join. Not gonna lie they’ll probably like Avatar: The Last Airbender, Steven Universe, and maybe even Gravity Falls. 

Video watching is moderated by you and the adults by the way so no worries

Language in Teyvat is no differ from language in our world, the only thing that separates the two is the alphabet. Albedo, the archons and the scholars of Teyvat such as Sucrose and Xingqiu made it their job to study and understand your language. They almost lose their minds when they learn that your world has 7,100 languages.

From learning the basics, they are now reading fictions of your world too. Books go to the Archons first and then later to the nations’ managements to see if they approve it to the public or not. 

On the crack-ish side of the lake… you have videos about them? They are those hot edits? Those are now blackmail materials owned by Kaeya and Childe. 

You write fanfics? Oh don’t worry! That Secret is safe as long as you give Yae Miko free reign in keeping them. 

Memes will haunt them for days. Zhongli is now constantly touching his head to see if his hair is still intact, Kaeya constantly doing the lip bite, Diluc still  having nightmares about his face photoshopped in Klee’s body and oh let’s not forget about Childe doing that meme face of him staring blankly.

They don't understand what boomer means but both Raiden and Zhongli are not safe from it 

Not gonna lie can I see traveller and Childe doing that 'I won't hesitate bitch' vine before they fight on Mondays.

#genshin impact sagau #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact #genshin sagau #genshin impact scenarios #genshin hcs #sagau fluff #sagau brainrot #self aware genshin #sagau hcs #sagau #zhongli #sagau zhongli #sagau venti #sagau childe #sagau kaeya #sagau diluc #sagau idea #sagau x reader

[softxsuki]

Hi, I hope I sent this in time! This is for Valentines Day Letter event. I'd like to request a letter with Pro!Hero Todoroki with a quirkless Fem!reader. We're in an established relationship (we were highschool sweethearts and have been together ever since). Also, I'd like if he called me 'honey' in the letter.

Tone/Genre: Proposal and adoration

Location: We live together but, he's always out on hero duty so I rarely see him home. The letter was left on a page of my favorite book.

Other info: We're both 25. I'm a hopeless romantic and, he does everything he can to show his love and appreciation for me. Sometimes I overthink but, he's there to support me. I'm quirkless so, I work as a digital artist. While waiting for him to return home, I do my hobbies which are reading, writing.

Thanks!

Todoroki's Proposal Letter to His Girlfriend

This event is now CLOSED, but you can view the masterlist for the other letters here.

| Pairing: Todoroki x Fem!Reader| Genre: Fluff | Post-Type: Letter | Word Count: 980 |

Warnings: kissing?

Note: Hey! Happy Valentine's Day, hope you enjoy your letter from Todoroki :)

You were finally relaxed for the evening after coming home from work, your body practically melting into your favorite chair. Your boyfriend, Todoroki had paid someone to create a little reading nook for you, but perhaps it was more like your own mini library. There were shelves upon shelves of books you needed to read along with sprinkles of books you’ve already read and loved.

Your fingers find the book you had been making your way through and couldn’t wait to get lost within the words on the page for another evening while waiting for your boyfriend to return home from his hero duties. Though, as you flip to the page your bookmark was holding, you furrow your brows in confusion at the envelope tucked between the pages. 

You gently open it, closing your book and placing it to the side as you begin to read the letter to yourself;

Dear Y/N, 

If I’m correct about your daily habits, then it should be around 7pm when you’re finally reading this and I’m hopefully almost home to say this to you directly. But…in the slight chance that I’m not, you’ll probably never see this and I’ll have to come up with another plan.

Happy Valentine’s Day, honey. I can’t believe how long we’ve been together. Looking back on our high school days, I could never picture myself giving my heart to someone, trusting and loving them unconditionally, yet now I can’t imagine my life without you in it. 

You’ve remained by my side through all my family mess and helped me through so many difficult moments in my life. So thank you for loving me and accepting me for all my flaws. I’m terrible at saying these things to you directly. It’s hard for me to fully be vulnerable about my feelings and at times I don’t want to burden you with them even more than I already have.

However, lately I can’t help but want to be even closer to you. The reassurance that you’re here to stay, that you’ll be mine forever. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. We already live together, why not seal the deal?

I don’t want to ask you this important question in a letter when I’m not home to see how you’ll react, but please wait for me for a few more minutes. I’ll be there to ask you shortly. I love you.

Yours,

Sho.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest at the words you read. Was he really about to come home and propose to you? Was that what he was hinting at? Your cheeks felt hot at the idea of him wanting to be your husband. 

Did you look okay? You had gotten comfortable in your pajamas for the night already. Would it be better if you changed into something nicer?

Yet you had no time to change or do anything as the familiar beep of the electronic lock in your home sounded, signaling Todoroki was already home. You scramble to your feet and rush to the front door to see him.

Todoroki, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, enters, closing the door behind him, before turning to face you, his eyes softening at the sight of you. You had read his letter, he knew you did.

“Welcome home,” you greet him, eyeing the flowers, your heart thumping in your chest.

He closes the distance between you, pressing a kiss to your lips and taking your hand with his free one.

“Great to be home, I missed you,” a small smile appears on his usually stoic face as he hands you the flowers in his hands, “Got theses for you, honey. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

You clutch the flowers in your arms tightly, thanking him. Then he gets down on one knee, one hand still firmly holding yours as he removes a box from his pocket and opens it to display a unique, yet beautiful ring inside it.

“I’m sure you read the letter I left for you and it’s true. I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side. Not only as my partner, but as my other half. I love you Y/N, more than I thought I’d ever love someone. Would you please marry me?”

It was a little awkward as he fumbled over his words, not used to saying these things out loud, but it was perfect in your eyes.

With teary eyes, you nod your head. You wanted this, you wanted to be his wife and have him as your husband. Making a vow to remain together till death do you part.

“Of course I’ll marry you,” you cry out, watching him as he placed the beautiful ring that fit your taste perfectly, on your ring finger.

He props himself back on his feet so he’s eye level with you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek as one of his hands holds the hand with your ring on it, one of his fingers running over the gem.

“Should we just get married now in town?” He asks, almost impatient to call you his wife.

You laugh gently at his subtle excitement beyond his stoic expression that once again took over his features.

“There’s no rush. Let’s enjoy the engaged life for a bit. You’re at the peak of your career right now, we have forever to get married,” you smile, calming him down before he carries you to the marriage registrar’s office.

Reluctantly, he nods at your request. He was excited to marry you, but more than willing to follow your wishes and give you an extravagant wedding ceremony if that’s what you desired. Your life together as an engaged couple was just beginning, and you were beyond excited for what the future held for the both of you.

Posted: 2/14/2024

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto #mha x y/n #mha x you #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x you #shoto x reader #shoto x you #shoto x y/n

[sarah-yyy]

what: modern cdrama // completed // 38 eps, roughly 35 mins each where: wetv (also on the app) // viki why: desert supernatural adventure with ni ni and bai yu, this had "sarah is going to lose it over this show" written all over it right from the start tbh, zero percent of people are surprised i enjoyed it. the characters are all well done and ni ni and bygg were great in their roles, the worldbuilding for the society inside yumen was interesting, and the cgi is well done for the genre (i mean...this is basing it off cdrama cgi standards okay!!)

meet my girl ye liuxi:

GOD... xi-jie... 😘 where do we even start

brains: 10 brawns: 100 memory: -300

xi-jie woke up in the middle of the desert, hung on a tree, with no idea who she is, v fragmented memories of the past, and a satchel with some v vague clues. she spends about a year working odd jobs in a town nearby to survive and to work out a plan to find out about her past.

her investigations lead her to chang dong:

dong-ge!! 😍🤤

brains: 10 brawns: 10 memory: 10 (but like 95% of it is tragic)

dong-ge is a desert guide, used to be one of the best (and certainly one of the most famous) in the region until he led an expedition (which consisted of his fiancée and their friends) into the desert and all eighteen of them except him died during a freak sandstorm. major survivor guilt on this boy. ultimate goal is to find the remains of his friends so that their families can move on in peace.

anyway, xi-jie ropes dong-ge into taking her into the desert. it's heavily implied that pre-memory lost her knows where the remains of his dead fiancée is, so the deal is: help me find my memory, and i'll help you find your friends.

they travel to the Yumen Pass together with three others - fei tang (who tags along for an opportunity to steal this priceless artefact he saw on xi-jie), and xiaoliu & gao shen (xiaoliu's godfather is sponsoring the trip for ~reasons, gao shen is her bodyguard with a crush on her), but soon realise that the pass leads to a parallel world where xi-jie is originally from.

in that world, there are spiritual beasts and monsters and all that jazz. the parallel world is governed by three ruling families who fight against a rebel organisation the Scorpion Eye. the gang navigates through the parallel world trying to solve the mystery behind xi-jie's past and the Yumen Pass prophecy. that's p much the gist of it.

the cons: this show moves a little slowly at times, but once you get invested, everything is all good. i'd say the first 2-4 eps needed a bit of getting into, but it does pick up. meng ziyi is in this as well, but i was a bit :/ about her performance - her character needed a bit more nuance and would've benefitted from a better portrayal than what mzy delivered. not something that really put me off the show, tho!!

the pros: ye liuxi is such an excellent character!! she is super fight fight fight and has Minimal impulse control. if a fight can solve problems, that's the way she's going. she starts off a bit "stick close, because if y'all die in the desert i'm not going to care" but just...grows so invested in everyone's wellbeing. chang dong is a nice contrast to ye liuxi - he's level-headed and is more focused on plans and trying to get everyone in and out of the Pass alive. the chemistry between them is great, like i didn't think i would be into this for the romance but GOD DAMN look at my dongxi couple

ni ni and bai yu aside, the rest of the gang were great also - they provided a lot of laughs to cut through the seriousness of the show, and the growing friendship between them was really fun to watch.

the plot was decent!! you can sort of guess the direction it's going, but it doesn't stop it from being a super fun show to watch. i binged like the last 10 eps in one sitting. i also really did appreciate the show giving me the finale i wanted: everything wraps up nicely (*stares at mlc*), there're no loose ends for me to lose my shit over (*stares at my journey to you*).

all in all, a p strong 9/10 for me!! would enjoy if y'all are into those desert adventure cdramas. would enjoy if y'all are bygg fans.

#tv rec #parallel world #west out of yumen #west out of the yumen #yumen #cdrama