#at least until one of the other members has posted something like this

[sweet-as-an-angel]

so! you mentioned in the 'p0rn preferences' post that Gaz is not the one who jerks off the most in the 141, and I humbly ask you, who would that be?

I don't mean this as a request, just a little discussion, cause I feel like Soap would just be going at it at any chance possible, like a bunny. he probably doesn't care much if someone hears it, but that's just me thinking too much into it.

Who Jerks off the Most in the 141 + König

Warnings: 18+, Heavy Mentions of Masturbation, Male Masturbation, Implied Reader in Individual Headcanons, Accidental and Implied Voyeurism, Edging, Brief Mention of Injury, Men Who Moan <3, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except 'You'.

A/N: As per Anon's question (which I just had to turn into a post of its own) I present to you the list of the 141 members (and König) who jerk off from the most to least <3

Soap

I have to agree with you here, Anon - Johnny is most definitely the king of self love when it comes to the 141.

He doesn't much care where he is or who he's with; when he has to satisfy his needs, he'll do so.

Though, he'll spare whoever's with him the sight of watching him throwing his head back, trying to stifle his moans behind gritted teeth whilst the wet sound of his hand slipping up and down the length of his shaft fill the room.

Unless they want to.

For one reason or another, he's nigh-insatiable when it comes to his libido, and the fact that his stamina affords him the luxury of beating himself off until his cum is practically translucent doesn't help.

The slightest thing can set him off.

Someone brushing past him ? Hard.

Someone stroking his ego a little too enthusiastically ? Bricked up.

He sees something that's shaped to be a little too curvy or phallic ? Stiff as a pole.

He remembers something mildly suggestive you did three years ago in that restaurant ? He's going to the Horny Realm.

Yes, his teammates have complained about his incessant moaning-come-grunting-come-whimpering through all hours of the night, his voice contorting through a spectrum of desperation and Johnny always ending up spent and overstimulated by the time the sun comes up.

And then he's ready to do it all again the second night touches the horizon line, giving his teammates a knowing smile when he walks into the room sporting nothing else save for a pair of boxers and a monster that looks to be trying to tear itself free from them.

Gaz

Dude's young. Of course he's throttling that rooster on a nigh-daily basis.

The only reason he's not at it as much as Soap is because he likes to believe he still has a few threads of his self-restraint intact.

He doesn't.

Especially when it comes to you (regardless of whether you're dating yet or not).

But he doesn't need to know that.

Honestly, the only thing that separates him from Johnny's unmatched libido is the fact that it takes a little more than the slightest provocation to get Gaz going.

Albeit, that line is a thin one.

If he so much as accidentally sees something explicit for upwards of three seconds, he's hard.

The only advantage of his need for satisfaction is the speed with which he can achieve it.

He and Johnny actually timed each other once to see who could get off the fastest.

Gaz won. Though, only by a slim margin.

Needless to say, that made for a rather interesting conversation with the Captain when he walked in on two of his best soldiers sat panting on the edge of their cots, an almost-translucent spray spattered across their stomachs, eyes half-lidded and hazy.

Ghost

The third-in-line for the Throttle Throne is none other than our beloved Ghost.

Unlike Johnny and Gaz, Ghost is more likely to leave himself alone at the first sign of trouble, toughing it out until he can will his mind to less lustful pastimes.

He won't make his jacking off known to anyone, either, often doing it in the shower where the water beats down so harshly that no sound can be heard for the water's fall.

That, and he's a master at keeping his voice low, no matter the circumstances.

More often than not, Simon makes quick work of jerking off purely because it’s a means to an end. However, if it’s you he’s thinking of, he’s much more likely to take his time — to immerse himself in the fantasy of your body around his, taking him so well in one capacity or another. Fucking yourself dumb on his cock.

During these times, he’s thorough — much more likely to edge himself, to throw his head back and growl between gritted teeth, to savour the sensation coiling in his stomach, his balls growing tight.

Otherwise, he’ll stroke one out as quickly as he can, getting back to business as usual.

And to look at him, on the surface, you'd never know that he just spent the last three minutes rubbing one out in the bathroom (yes, he is also a contender for first place in the 'Who Can Jack Off The Quickest Competition', but he'll never allow Johnny or Gaz the luxury of witnessing his unprecedented skill; that's for your eyes only).

Until he corners you, breathing down your neck, scolding you for tempting him - a man whose restraint lies only in his ability to hold off from reducing you to an exponential reflection of his prior state, breathless and covered in fluids.

König

Have you seen the size of that thing ? Man should be in the olympics for being able to throw that weight around.

Similarly to Ghost, König only gets himself off when it's absolutely necessary.

Only if he doesn't have you lying around to help him, of course.

Though, he lets himself have a bit of fun with it. Especially if it's been a tough day.

He's vocal, too. Though he tries not to be.

He just can't help it. Days' - maybe even weeks' - worth of unspent adrenaline and semen is hardly any way for a soldier like König to go about his life. So, he expels it in the privacy of quite literally any isolated space he can find.

König is not an adventurous spirit by any means when it comes to self pleasure, but when needs must, he's willing to shoulder the weight of the prospect that someone on his team could walk in at any second and catch him spraying his stomach or the wall white with, let's face it, thick ropes of cum.

Hong-Jin's actually caught him doing that before now.

That's actually how the two became friends: Horangi heard König grunting in the store cupboard and, knowing how stubborn his Colonel was with letting others know when he was injured, sought him out. Wanted to offer his help.

Catching Colonel König in the act of throwing his head back whilst growling the name '(Y/N)' into the darkest corner of the room was, suffice it to say, not what Horangi had been expecting.

Price

You just know he's cool with it. And by 'cool', I mean incredibly intentional, controlled, and not ravenous in the ways our other favourite military princesses are.

Sure, Price has gotten hard on the job a few times.

Who hasn't ?

But thanks to his level head, unwavering devotion to his work, and absolute refusal to acknowledge that he did, in fact, get a little bit of a chub during a shoot-out, he's managed to gain control over every facet of his body.

Until he comes home to you, of course.

Until he's able to loom over you like an omen and run his hands down your sides, stopping at your hips and pressing kisses that become more open-mouthed the further down the side of your neck he dips.

Pressing his hips into yours. Something demands your attention.

There have been very few occasions where a cold shower wasn't a quick enough fix for him.

When the days of having you milk him are too far out of sight, he's had to suffice with his own hands before now. Had to imagine - remember - what yours felt like in his place, your lips curled up as he gripped the chair arms, breathless as he moaned into the warm tones of your shared apartment.

But don't worry ! He'll be sure to catch you up on everything you've missed while he's been away once he returns.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #john price x reader #john price smut #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #cod #cod konig #konig x reader #konig smut #konig x you

[bit-b]

About a trending Discord warning:

TL;DR: Discord is NOT making "Find your friends" enabled by default. You're probably not giving Discord your contact information without your knowledge. Their UI choices just suck.

There's a warning post going around by a person I'm not going to name, as I don't want people to dogpile on them. That is NOT the goal of this post, and if you DO harass anyone because of what I write, then you're a garbage person with garbage habits that needs to throw those habits in the garbage.

Rather, my goal with this post is to educate about a Discord feature that's not being represented properly.

-------------------------------------

Supposedly in the new mobile update, Discord added this ""NEW"" feature called "Find your friends", and then they enabled it by default. This feature allows users to use their smartphone contacts to search for their friends on Discord. It also enables others to be able to find you in the exact same way.

Obviously, this would be MASSIVELY dangerous from a privacy perspective.

Imagine if someone had relatives that use Discord. In a scenario like that, those relatives would have an easy way of finding the accounts of family members. And in some home situations, online anonymity from relatives could mean the difference between having an outlet and not having an outlet.

I'm also pretty sure I know some folks with alt accounts (you know who you are). And if Discord was somehow able to cross-reference all your contacts with the Discord accounts you're logged into, that would be DISASTROUSLY EMBARRASSING, to say the least.

So I totally understand how concerning this would be if it turned out to be true.

The thing is, it's not.

The person who made that warning misinterpreted THIS page:

This is the new "Add Friends" page for the Discord mobile app. Obviously, a page to help you add friends. There's a big 'ol window at the bottom showcasing Discord's "Find your friends" feature.

Now, this feature is actually NOT new. It's been around for a long time. But there's a very subtle change that happened with the new update. Take a look at how "Find your friends" used to look:

It starts by giving you a banner at the top of your friends list, telling you that this feature is available. Then when you click on it, it takes you to a page with UI elements that look awfully familiar.

It's pretty clear what happened. In an effort to condense down their friend-finding functions into one menu, Discord took the "Find your friends" setup menu and tossed it in with all the other ways to contact friends.

But by doing this, Discord has made this setup window confusing. It's not immediately obvious if the "Find your friends" feature is ON and running, or OFF and waiting to be activated.

Maybe it would have helped to make the blurple button read something like "Sync contacts" instead of "Find friends". At least then, you could tell at a glance that nothing has been sync'd yet. (Or y'know, maybe just stick to "Grant Permission". That was working just fine before.)

So it seems the OP:

Looked at the "Find your friends" setup menu that Discord hastily slapped into the "Add friends" page

Noticed the checkbox that read "Allow contacts to add me"

Saw that it was already marked

Then assumed that it must be some kind of tucked-away setting that was left ON by default.

To make this abundantly clear, "Find your friends" only works if you opt-in.

That checkmark allows you to tell Discord you are okay with people finding you in this manner. Unchecking it makes it possible to use "Find your friends" without others being able to find you the same way.

It doesn't get set up on your device until you press the big blurple "Find friends" button. Even then, you still have to add your phone number to your account and verify it via a 6-digit code sent via SMS.

After that, you have to give Discord permission to access your contacts via whatever phone OS you use.

You have to be pretty deliberate for any of these functions to start.

I won't say it's impossible to set it up on accident. It's a strange world, and stranger things have happened. If you want to, go check your app permissions to make sure you don't have contact permissions enabled for Discord. It's always good to be sure. But rest easy knowing that you probably don't have to worry about it.

-------------------------------------

In my opinion, I think that anyone who reblogged that warning should consider reversing those reblogs.

Honestly, I also think the OP should just delete their post instead of repeatedly adding amended reblogs to it. At the end of the day, the core of that post was misinformation and misguided assumptions. There's no real reason to keep it up.

Besides, I'd rather pin Discord on things they're ACTUALLY guilty of. Like designing a new UI that's widely mocked. And making things 10x more confusing for the end-user.

Here's Discord's official "Find your friends" FAQ page:

https://support.discord.com/hc/en-us/articles/360061878534-Find-Your-Friends-FAQ

I hate to beg, but I'd appreciate if people would reblog this post. I fear that the warning post is gonna steer a LOT of people to believe a lot of things about Discord that are logically and functionally not true.

#discord #misinformation

[yandere-daydreams]

i'm being forced by myself to make a proper post for this poll. may gojo reign as a codependent king for years to come.

Cuteness Aggression With The Yan!JJK Boys.

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Mahito, and Sukuna.

TW: Kidnapping, Unhealthy Relationships, and Implied Non/Con.

Gojo is near-violent. Expect to be constantly covered in bruises from his habit of full-body tackling you whenever he notices you're wearing one of his shirts or curled up in his bed or quirking your lips in the way he's never been able to resist. Tends to hold onto you for a while, too, keeping you pressed against him while he squeals and coos about how adorable his partner is, making you sound like more of an especially beloved pet rather than a live-in captive. No amount of squirming will distract him, either - he's going to be there until someone literally pries him off of you which, because there's a good chance he's already got you locked up tight in that luxury penthouse of his, isn't going to be anytime soon.

Geto is more used to receiving affection than dulling it out, so he doesn't really know what to do with himself when he's suddenly overwhelmed with the temptation to wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stop laughing in a way that makes his heart want to beat out of his chest. In the end, he sorta just,,, picks you up and starts carrying you around like a giant cat. Maybe pinches your cheek when you inevitably start complaining and ask to be put down. Cult members who ask why you've been slung over his shoulder for the past hour and a half are immediately done away with and curse-users don't fair much better.

Nanami, as the only (relatively) emotionally-regulated person on this list, takes it in-stride. He tries not to force affection onto you, so he'll settle for a few headpats and maybe a kiss to your forehead, if you aren't absolutely terrified of him at that point. If you catch him in a more vulnerable state, either injured or exhausted, he might be a little more forceful - wrapping an arm around your waist and hauling you against his chest, where he can hold you until you eventually give-in and stop struggling, but at least he tries to hold himself back. Sometimes. Maybe. If you're lucky, that day.

Toji is almost as bad as Geto, but not quite as awkward. He tends to scoop you up, drag you away from whatever you're doing, and lay you down where he can pepper your face with kisses and whine when you shove at his chest. He usually lets you go after a few minutes, but it's in your best interest not to squirm too much until he does. He'll just smirk and kiss your neck and say something about how precious his little sweetheart is being, today. The fondness-motivated aggression is short-lived. What he'll do if you give him the idea that you might need more of his affection won't be.

Mahito is twice as unhinged as Gojo and only half as self-conscious. His only saving grace is that, by the time he gets genuinely overwhelmed by something you do, you're going to be used to weathering his constant attempts to suffocate you via forty-five minute hugs. When he realizes how cutely you wince when he pokes a fresh bruise and decides he has to dig his teeth into your shoulder and refuse to let go about it, you'll probably be too used to his ""affection"" to do anything other than sigh and make sure he doesn't severe anything important, this time.

Sukuna is, in his defense, rarely gentle about anything, so you really can't expect him to have a gentle reaction when he sees what an adorable reaction you wear as you wait for him to take his first drink from the chalice you laced with you most recent poisonous fixation. You can kick and thrash all you want as two of his arms loop under yours and pull you onto his lap, as he cups your face and shoves tongue down your throat and wonders aloud if you taste as endearing as you look. He always keeps you by his side, but for the rest of the day, he won't be satisfied unless you're practically on top of him, riding on his shoulders or straddling his thigh. He'll even drink your deadly little elixir straight from the bottle, if you ask him to. It won't work, but you know, it's the thought that counts and all <3

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #yandere gojo satoru #gojo x reader #yandere geto suguru #geto x reader #yandere toji #toji x reader #yandere mahito #mahito x reader #yandere sukuna #sukuna x reader

[copperbadge]

Let's Talk About Missing Persons

So, I've seen this post circulating last week, and a few others like it in the past year. I think this probably needs to be discussed every few years, and it feels like time.

First, a few caveats: there are reports on the post that Abby has been located and is fine, so no need to reblog and also that's great news, I'm very happy she is safe. Second, I did not especially doubt the veracity of the post, so I'm not impugning the people who made and posted it, but I also declined to reblog it for reasons I'll get into. Third, I know that especially in marginalized communities it can be dangerous to involve the police, and that Missing White Woman Syndrome means it can be difficult to get media coverage. I understand why Abby's community may have chosen to search for her in the way they did.

However, for everyone's safety, I do not link any missing persons post that requires you to contact an individual to report the missing person's whereabouts. If the poster doesn't ask you to contact the police or a known missing persons organization, I won't do it.

This is for the safety of the missing person.

When you see a post with someone's photo, name, and last known whereabouts, and you are asked to contact an individual -- a family member, partner, friend, etc -- what you are being asked to do is report on the whereabouts of one person you don't know to another person you don't know. You don't know that the person you're talking to isn't an abusive partner or parent, a stalker, or a person who means them material harm. One of the Insta accounts in the missing image doesn't appear to exist, and another has no bio and very little captioning on their images. I couldn't verify that Abby even knew these people.

Again: when I looked at the image, it looked sincere to me. I didn't doubt those people were earnestly searching for a friend they were worried about. But also, an abuser doesn't look like an abuser until they do. So I don't make exceptions, because a missing person is missing but a victim outed to their abuser has strong odds of being murdered. The most dangerous time in the life of an abused person is when they are leaving their abuser. Even if a victim simply logs on to say "Hey, I'm fine, these people mean me harm" the abuser has now flushed them out of hiding, and manipulated them into making a public statement.

If you can't verify positively that the person searching does not mean the missing person harm, you should not be circulating a post, full stop. At the very least, if the community doesn't wish for the help of the police (understandable) or can't get the help of an organization or community (frequent), the missing persons poster should advise you to speak to the missing person, not the searcher, and notify them they're being sought, as long as it's safe for both you and them to do so.

This isn't intuitive. We want to help, and search posters like that tug on the heartstrings. We know that when the police get involved even in something this innocuous, it can be perilous for everyone. But in situations where someone is so vulnerable, we have to concern ourselves first with harm reduction, which in this case means not spreading someone's photo with a stranger's contact information on it.

I'm glad Abby was found and is fine and that her searchers were in earnest. But that will not always be the case, and it's important to remember that.

#missing persons #abuse #trauma #stalking

[roseykat]

TITLE: Calling him ‘daddy’

SYNOPSIS: An OT8 blurb of what happens when you call each of the members ‘daddy’.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: mentions of sex, orgasms, choking, using the name ‘daddy’, spitting, public sex, degradation, use of names such as ‘slut’, swearing, dirty talk, edging, bondage.

MASTERLIST

A/N: Last blurb upload before I post my Hyunjin one shot for Shutterfly Butterfly. Thank you so much for reading. ily xox (Rose)

-

BANG CHAN

Call him daddy. Just do it, because he will fuck you into next month. He already exudes that ‘daddy’ energy anyway and boy does he live up to it. He’s not always a mean top or dom. In most instances, he’s polite, subtle and unassuming. What he says in bed, goes. You know when to get on your knees and take all of him in your mouth until it’s full with his cum.

You know when to use your words wisely in bed, no matter how frustrated you get with him when he edges you for the fifth time. It’s that type of daddy energy - the ‘say something once and you bow’ type. But, be obedient, and he will reward you for being good. Be disobedient and you won’t see his dick for the next two weeks.

-

MINHO

It’s literally a ‘fuck around and find out’ if you want to call him daddy. If so, he’s dragging you to the nearest surface and fucking you on it. That name to him, drives him nuts - in the best way though. He can be one of those mean daddies who won’t give you what you want, but only on special occasions and only if you truly deserve it.

The times where you don’t deserve it are usually the times where you call him daddy in public just to rile him up. If public indecency wasn’t a crime, Minho would be fucking you in front of everyone who walks past on the street. Or ripping your clothes off with his teeth on the table in the middle of a restaurant. He’d want people to know who your daddy is, and he’s sure one person would at least enjoy the show.

-

CHANGBIN

The name ‘daddy’ flew over his head once, but it’s okay, he was just trying to understand it. The second time he hears you call him it was just as a joke, even then he laughed. But when you’re whining it out for him in bed, that man gets it and he’s done for. When Changbin is about to make you cum, and you’re repetitively calling him daddy, he’ll be fucking you harder into the mattress.

There’s an aspect of the word ‘daddy’ that makes him feel more dominant than usual. It’s like you’re relying on him for something - usually sexual favours, which he loves to uphold. But there’s also the soft requests like hugs, kisses, sometimes but not always, material thing. He’ll do them only for you and loves seeing the satisfaction on your face when he fulfills them.

-

HYUNJIN

Folds when you call him daddy. If he’s pounding into you at such a rough pace, you won’t even be able to get the word out past your lips. The same goes for when he’s choking you. So if your mouth isn’t stuffed with a ball gag or his cock and you’re able to call him daddy, Hyunjin will nearly combust. He needs to hear ‘how good daddy feels’, and ‘how much daddy is making me cum’.

It fuels the hell out of his ego but doesn’t get too cocky about it. He’ll adhere to that title by rewarding you if you’ve been good or punish you if you’ve been misbehaving. Usually his punishments are intense and cruel. Hyunjin has no trouble fixing a collar around your throat, binding your body until you can’t move, edging you until you cry, but would never let you orgasm.

-

JISUNG

The beauty of Jisung is that he’s the ultimate switch who cannot sit in the middle of the top/bottom and dom/sub spectrum. He’s a top or dom one day then flies straight over to the other side as a sub or bottom the next. In saying that when he’s not acting like a whiny, little sub, calling Jisung ‘daddy’ will expand the dominant side of his personality. Hearing that name in his ear will make him fuck you harder, make you cum harder, make you moan louder, all of the above.

He’ll say things like ‘what a gem taking all of daddy’s cock.’ Or, ‘you love it when daddy fucks you like this huh? Look at that, creaming around me like a good little slut.’ It’s insane how much he enjoys that slice of power. He just gets so into the moment that he could easily slip into a top or dom high depending on the situation. Regardless, that is his name to you whenever he’s not being a sub or bottom and he won’t settle for anything less.

-

FELIX

Felix has the personality of an angel - someone who literally cannot do wrong in the eyes of a religious goer. But in bed, he’s the son of Satan himself. The day the word ‘daddy’ accidentally slipped out of your mouth, was the day his innocence was stripped back. He fucks you differently now. It’s harsher, hand around your throat, degrading, wanting to spit in your mouth type of fucking.

He’s become so accustomed to hearing you call him daddy in bed that sometimes it’s weird if you don’t. That being said, if you call him that name outside of the bedroom too, it easily gets him horny enough to fuck you. Be it in a dressing room, the back of his car, or in a club. He could never get enough of hearing that word from you.

-

SEUNGMIN

Isn’t entirely fazed when you call him daddy. He knows he could most definitely be one, but isn’t conceited about it either. It’s the cool, calm, and collected aura around him which is a little bit unpredictable that could make him a ‘daddy’. But that’s what most ‘daddies’ emulate anyway. He needs to be able to make sure you can’t predict what he brings to the bedroom.

That way, he’ll have you screaming out ‘daddy, please’, ‘daddy fuck me’, ‘daddy you’re gonna make me cum’, whenever his cock is buried inside of you. In contrast to that, Seungmin is a master of aftercare. Since he’s harsh, he needs to make up for it afterwards by fully attending to whatever it is that you need. It’s also an unspoken aspect under the umbrella term ‘daddy.’ Either way, he lives up to it well.

-

JEONGIN

At first, Jeongin didn’t understand what the hype was when he heard about people calling their significant others ‘daddy’. It wasn’t until it slipped out of your mouth once in bed which got him hard enough again to fuck you twice. Since then, he’s never looked back. He asked, only if you were comfortable with it, for you to keep calling him that. He could melt into the mattress at the sound of your strained voice, hearing that name when he’s eating you out or taking you from behind.

So on the surface, he’s a seemingly innocent looking person but you know that underneath there is a man who’s been blessed by the gods with the ability to fuck. It’s the same person who likes to hear the word ‘daddy’ fall from your lips the same way that his cum does whenever he uses your mouth.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #rosiewritesskz #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut #bang chan smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut #seungmin smut #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #i.n x reader

[mieczyslawsravenclaw]

Eidetic Memory Be Damned -Spencer Reid

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•Pairing - Spencer Reid x FemFBIAgent!Reader

•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

•Summary/Prompt - Spencer is tired of only having the memory of you to enjoy during his spicy times , so he just has to intrude into your hotel room after a case is finished…

•Warnings/Content - p in the v unprotected (hey kids- DONT DO IT) ; cursing ; Spence loves to beg to nut in you and does so ; creampie ; some pain play? (just a lil hand on the throat dealio and some hair pulling) ; LOTS of praise on both sides (good boy, pretty girl, etc) ; very mf horny lol ; (basically they do just about everything from first base to last bestie slay)

•Word Count - 3.3k

•Authorʼs Note(s) - Iʼm so mf rusty at writing smut so this is probs not the best, I just wanted to write some Spencer spice cause I had a spicy dream about him lmao RIP >_< Also this'll be my first official post of my writing on Tumblr slayyyyy

•Additional Tags - Switch!Spencer , Switch!Reader , Spencer is a needy brat LMAO , Team has ‘no ideaʼ you two are hooking up (Be so mf fr they do) , Good aftercare is so valid , Spencer loves being cuffed and teased muahaha

As much as this last case had taken out of me, I was more than happy to get to spend some time in my hotel room while the jet refueled and everyone got their bearings. Itʼs not home - far from it, Iʼd been missing my own bed for the majority of our time here in whatever state it was now - but at least it was something.

But of course, the reprieve wouldnʼt last long - a sharp knock on my door confirmed that, about 20 minutes after Iʼd laid down to sleep.

“What…ˮ I groan, frustratedly looking over at the clock.

The knock, again, more persistent this time. And I recognize its pattern now, three short tap-taps. Spencer.

My heartbeat, despite my minor annoyance at being woken up, is hammering now. Spencer seems to do that to me, from the moment Iʼd realized I have feelings for him, carrying into whatever it is that we are now. Secret trysts that Iʼm sure are no secret to our team members, especially Garcia, because sheʼd pried it out of me almost immediately and now waits in her dark little room with nothing else but excitement for the latest updates on us, it seems.

“Are you awake?ˮ A gentle but still much-too-loud voice asks.

I tumble out of bed, rushing to the door. I donʼt even have time to make sure I look okay - Iʼm much too worried about anyone else hearing him. The door is unlocked and pulled open in record time, a stunned lanky man quickly and semi-quietly forced inside.

“Spence, someoneʼs gonna hear you if you keep on like that.ˮ I chastise him, shutting and locking the door behind us. No sooner have I done so, than his lithe form overtakes me, nestling into the crook of my neck with a groan that seems both relieved and not relieved at all.

“Donʼt care,ˮ He pushes me back, until my legs meet the mattress and fold. Quickly following on top of me, he sighs, “Been too long. I miss you. You know I have an eidetic memory, yeah? Doesnʼt mean shit when Iʼm up late and even thoughts of you arenʼt enough to keep me satiated.ˮ

“Someoneʼs gonna-ˮ Hear, I want to say. He knows, of course he does. And Iʼm only half-complaining, with his lips at my neck and his leg sneaking up between mine the way he also knows.

“Donʼt care.ˮ He repeats, the low moan at the back of his throat breaking through into the silent room. “I told you I miss you. Should I tell you about what I use my memory for? And just how much that hasnʼt been enough lately? Or should I show you?ˮ

Itʼs clearly a rhetorical question, but still, he seeks the permission I am more than happy to grant.

“Tell me. Uh, show me. I mean-ˮ

“I can do both,ˮ Even in the dark, I know heʼs got that matter of fact smirk on his lips. He reaches down, holding me by the hip with one hand while the other slips into my pajamas, a practiced motion heʼs all too good at by now. “Usually this is what I remember first. The way your skin feels, how nice it is to make you tremble beneath my touch.ˮ

I buck up, and he chuckles.

“All too eager, arenʼt you? Clearly youʼve been thinking about it too, huh, pretty girl?ˮ A pointed question he knows Iʼll struggle to answer, with his hand and his voice torturing me so.

“No eid- identical- uh, no memory recall whatever for me.ˮ

“Still wouldnʼt satiate, I bet.ˮ He remarks, casually rubbing circles and patterns over my panties. This is how he operates, surely and with no warning. A gentle but firm kiss to my jaw, and he continues, “Itʼs like that for me, at least. I know no amount of recalling how you feel under me will be enough to match just how nice it is.ˮ

Heʼs right, and of course he is; I can barely handle the teasing, the tone his voice has taken in this short amount of time. And I currently dont care if weʼre heard, either.

“Spence-ˮ

“What is it, sweetheart? Too much for you? Not enough?ˮ

“Please?ˮ

“Words, honey. Youʼve gotta use your words. Or you can show me, Iʼm okay withthat too.ˮ He guides my hand down to his.

“More.ˮ I plead, working to undress myself before his hands take over.

“You only have to ask.ˮ

True to his word, Spencer pulls the fabric away, no longer allowing it to be a block between us. Itʼs lost somewhere in the sheets as he kisses me, his practiced hands no longer in the mood to tease. He slips a finger in, and when I let out a keening whine, another, his free hand going automatically to my mouth.

“Now as much as I say I donʼt care, youʼve gotta be a little quiet for me,ˮ He goads, knowing this will only make it harder for me to do so. His breath is hot in my ear, his fingers working a motion thatʼs both breaking pent up weeks old frustration, and yet causing more tension in my belly. “Much as I love your voice. Your sounds. The-ˮ

I rut up against him, my lips opening around his thumb. He works it into my mouth, his voice lowering even further.

“Cmon, show me how much you missed me, huh, princess?ˮ

I moan, words lost in my mind as it spins. Every tug of his fingers between my thighs is building a high Iʼm chasing, and when I get to this point, Iʼm not talking - he is. And he knows it, knows the right words to say to build and break me.

“This is what Iʼm after, this is what I canʼt just remember. Because itʼs all too much to remember how good it feels to destroy you.ˮ

Please, please. I canʼt hold off much longer.

“Now are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?ˮ

I nod, lips opening and letting his hand free from my mouth as my breaths grow heavy. “Canʼt - Please, Spence, please-ˮ

He presses me further into the mattress, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings into my ear as the dam breaks and I ride my high. Iʼm far too sensitive following, and when I try to push him away for a moment, allow myself to collect some sort of reprieve before we continue, he chuckles lowly.

“See, I can recall that clear as day. But itʼs so much sweeter to have it happening in front of me, you know?ˮ He nestles in beside me, turning me to face him.

Nigh immediately, Iʼm reaching for his belt buckle. Of course he wouldnʼt have changed into comfortable clothes, not even this late- Iʼm sure this was his plan all along, and he tried to fight it as long as he could.

“Someoneʼs eager.ˮ He quips, the smirk growing.

“Youʼve got me thinking about it,ˮ I sigh, letting him maneuver himself out of the constricting clothing. “Coming over and getting me all hot and bothered. I really ought to…ˮ

“Ought to what?ˮ He goads, pulling me onto him with a low noise as we brush together. “Hmm? Are you gonna say…you ought to punish me?ˮ

I nod, rubbing back against him. He lets out a moan, hands gripping my hips tighter.

“I remember how that feels,ˮ He pulls me closer, voice dropping. “But for your sake, maybe you should refresh me.ˮ

When he reaches for me again, I pull back, pinning his hands down above his head. I know he could get out of it if he really wanted to - Iʼm strong, but not stronger than him - but he most certainly doesnʼt want to get out of it. And Iʼm enjoying it far too much to stop myself now.

“Whatʼre you gonna do, cuff me?ˮ He snaps, the bratty attitude far too practiced and already making me a soaking mess.

“I might.ˮ I reach for my pair, knowing all too well that heʼll absolutely lose it once I let go on him. I can hardly stand the anticipation. “Scared, Reid?ˮ

“Terrified. Please, donʼt. Iʼve been a good boy, I swear.ˮ

I push him back while he pleads, tightening the metal around his wrists. The look on his face, muffled as it is by the darkness of the room, is more than enough to spur me on.

“Not thinking about this at all, huh?ˮ I shed my top, if only for the knowledge that his inability to reach for my breasts drives him utterly insane. “And Iʼm sure you havenʼt spent many late nights with the memory of me riding you, have you? Havenʼt had your hands on that pretty cock of yours, thinking about how it feels when itʼs me, yeah?ˮ

“N-Not at all.ˮ

“Itʼs a shame, then.ˮ I tease, feeling him harden beneath me with every word. “Iʼll have to make you confess, I suppose.ˮ

His eyes follow my every move as I back up, slotting between his legs and bending down to kiss along his hips.

“Youʼll never get it out of me.ˮ He groans.

“Is that a promise or a challenge?ˮ I ask, not breaking eye contact as I place a kiss on his sensitive head.

“Challenge? Would I…challenge you?ˮ He still holds onto a moment of sanity, until I take him in my mouth, and itʼs lost with a sigh of, “Oh, would I.ˮ

I bob my head, my practiced motions coming in handy now. The usually-full-of- remarks Spencer Reid folds under my touch, soft deep moans and babble of confessions and wish I could pull your hair passing his lips while I work him out.

After a few moments of this, I let him free - at least from the torture of my lips.

“Where are you going? Please, I wanna cum for you, Iʼll tell you everything I did while I couldnʼt stand to wait for you.ˮ He keens.

“Oh, Iʼm far from done with you, Spence.ˮ I slowly, agonizingly slowly, climb back on top of him, making sure to back right up against him as he tightens against the cuffs. “Donʼt you worry, Iʼll have every measly confession pouring from you. You know I will.ˮ

“Please, let me out- Gotta touch you, I just gotta-ˮ

“Shh, be good for me, wonʼt you?ˮ I lift myself over his face, pressing my folds to his lips. “Unless you wanna stay in those forever.ˮ

He shakes his head, vibrating a ‘noʼ against me.

“Good. Now youʼre gonna pay your dues and clean up the mess youʼve made.ˮ

Eagerly, he laps at me like heʼs never had it before. His utter submissiveness overwhelms him, letting me ride his face to my hearts content. Words are muffled and entirely lost in it, and I know by now that the sounds Iʼm making alone will be heard, but I donʼt really care. Iʼm too far gone in how good it feels to finally have him making me cum again.

“Can I touch you now?ˮ

I slide back onto him, teasingly letting myself rest with just the edge of him pressing into my folds.

“Can you?ˮ I look pointedly at his wrists.

“I-oh, my god, clearly not, but-ˮ

“How about this?ˮ I amend. “You give me a confession, you get a reward. Sound fair?ˮ

“Yeah, sounds just fine. I couldnʼt get off without coming here, you realize that, donʼt you? Youʼre the only thing that gets me off anymo-Oh-ˮ His confession is cut short as I slide him a bit further in, just enough to spur him further. “I mean, I get off, donʼt get me wrong here. But nothing feels as good as when itʼs with you. Nothing.ˮ

“Keep going, youʼre doing good.ˮ I praise, sinking a bit deeper.

“Goddamn you feel so good.ˮ He moans. “Like, my hands canʼt even come close to this, are you kidding? I can try all I want, and believe me, I have - Oh, my god, please donʼt stop - Iʼve been trying all the time, I admit that, canʼt hardly stand being around you and not being able to just fuck you whenever I want.ˮ

I push down further, the stretch he gives me loosing my own moan. “How much do you wanna fuck me, Spence? Tell me, please.ˮ

“God, all the time. Itʼs all I can think about when I get down to it - baby, can I please touch you now?ˮ

“Punishment is a bitch, isnʼt it, Reid?ˮ I smirk, starting to push him in and out of me, slowly and with a devious grin that falters at just how damn good it is.

“Baby, Iʼm gonna get outta these and fuck you so good-ˮ

“Try it.ˮ I raise an eyebrow, stopping my motions.

“Oh- No, Iʼm sorry, please donʼt stop. Iʼll be good, I promise.ˮ

“Yeah, you will.ˮ I drop as far as I can take him, savoring the stuttered animalistic groan he lets out as I press down onto him, pulling his hair and moving my hips around him. As he is want to do, heʼs thrusting up into me, even if heʼs unable to reach me with his hands held up as they are. “Eager, sweet boy. Iʼm gonna ruin you.ˮ

And ruin him, I do. The tension and heat in my belly rides and breaks several times, with him unable to form real words except for the continuous begging of please donʼt stop repeated on a loop until I feel Iʼm satisfied with his demeanor.

Once Iʼve tortured him enough, I reach for the cuffs, ready to let him off the leash - knowing that once I do, the balance will shift. Truthfully, Iʼm just eager to let him be true to his word and fuck me like heʼs been dying to.

“You donʼt need any more confessions from me, then?ˮ He huffs, sweat slicked across his brow from the effort of holding back - though heʼs not really done so, has he?

“One last one, I suppose.ˮ I pull off of him, and the pout he gives nearly makes me sit right back down on him again.

“Alright, Iʼll be good and honest with you, then.ˮ He continues while I set to unlocking the cuffs, “You know the other day, just after we got the final piece of evidence put together?ˮ

I nod.

ˮI was so psyched, I couldʼve taken you right there. I donʼt care that everyone would have known, would have seen. Itʼs just something you do to me.ˮ He finishes, his tone light. Oh boy, Iʼm about to get railed. “I love you. And now Iʼm gonna fuck you like Iʼve been wanting to for weeks.ˮ

No sooner is he free, tearing off the shirt he was wearing and looming over me with the hungriest of looks at my body before pressing himself into me. No wait, no teasing - heʼs not got the control for it, clearly, and Iʼm not complaining one bit.

“Next time, you get the cuffs, pretty girl.ˮ He promises, his hands all over my body now that he can manage it. Hard, precise thrusts, his voice heavy and fucked-out.

“And Iʼll show you just what Iʼve been wanting to do that Iʼm gonna savor in my mind after.ˮ

My nails are leaving deep trails in his back, surely leading to marks that would raise questions if anyone else saw. Heʼs so far in me, almost bottomed out, and itʼs almost too much and yet not enough all at once. I pull him closer, and his hand tangles in my hair while the other clasps around my throat.

“Youʼre all mine.ˮ Spencer growls - truly, thereʼs not other word for it, the purely animal drive taking him to a world where itʼs just us, just this. And Iʼm there too, crying out with the ecstasy his body causes my own.

“All yours.ˮ

“Thatʼs right, pretty girl. Say it for me, I wanna hear you say it.ˮ

“Iʼm all yours, Spence- oh, my god-ˮ

“Good, thatʼs good. My pretty girl. Youʼre so tight, you feel so good wrapped around me, donʼt you? God, what a sight.ˮ Here he is, in his rambles now, and I can hardly contain how close I am. “Wanna tell everyone this is mine. Iʼm the only one that gets to have you, gets to fuck you like this. See you break for me. Only me.ˮ

“Only you, Spence, only you-ˮ

“Cʼmon, I know youʼre close, I can feel it. You get so much tighter, god, if itʼs even possible-ˮ

“Spencer-ˮ

“Thatʼs my girl, cum for me.ˮ

“Donʼt stop-ˮ I can feel the cord in me ready to snap, chasing my most intense orgasm of the night with his words and the feeling of him slamming so deep inside me. “More, Spence, you can give me more-ˮ

“Sweet girl, of course, I know you can handle it.ˮ He pushes himself fully in, my breath catching at the slight pain, yet itʼs still so good, I canʼt stop it, I donʼt want to. “Want me to fuck you so good with all of me, donʼt you?ˮ

I nod against his grasp, and he loosens it a bit, kissing me fervently.

“Please, please cum for me, I wanna feel you all over me, beautiful.ˮ He reaches down, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. Itʼs the last thing I need to send me over that edge, and I cry out, his name slipping past my lips unwarranted. “Oh, baby, love how you say my name. Like itʼs a prayer, like Iʼm a god.ˮ

“Donʼt stop, Spence-ˮ

“Iʼm close, baby- Oh, I wanna cum in you-ˮ

Another orgasm follows near immediately after this one, and Iʼm grasping at him while heʼs chasing his own, his hands fumbling and his thrusts getting sloppy. He grips the sheets, his breaths stunted.

“Cum in me, please-ˮ

“Iʼm gonna, god, Iʼm so fuckinʼ close-ˮ He tightens around me, muscles shaking as he lets loose, and now itʼs his turn to moan my name a lot louder than he should while he cums. Heʼs so pretty when he does, too - the crease that works between his brows, the round pucker to his lips. Partly through, he kisses me, hard. And when heʼs done, his grip loosens, falling slack on top of me with a contented sigh.

A few moments pass where he just holds me, peppering soft kisses across my face and telling me you did such a good job, baby. Then, he pops up with a smile and comes back with water and a towel, cleaning up after himself.

“Satisfied?ˮ I chuckle, slowly pulling my clothes back on.

“Almost.ˮ He dips his head down, capturing a nipple in his mouth for a few moments. I groan, overstimulated, but still too happy to appease him. “Now, Iʼm satisfied. Iʼm staying in here, okay? Donʼt care if someone sees at this point.ˮ

“Spence?ˮ

“Mmhm?ˮ

“I love you, too.ˮ

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #sub!spencer reid

[oakparchment]

No Nut November with Itzy

Male Reader x Yuna, MR x Lia, MR x Chaeryeong, MR x Ryujin, MR x Yeji

Length: 1,479 words

Tags: cumplay, edging, blue balls, creampie, facials, NNN, cum slut

Summary: How each member of Itzy handles you going through NNN (No Nut November).

AO3

A/N: For a NNN post this story has a lot of cum.

---------------------------------------

Yuna is a cum slut. Neither of you have any chance of surviving NNN.

After just the first day or so she’s already begging for it: “I’ve been a good girl, don’t you think I deserve to be fucked by your cock? Don’t you think I deserve to be painted with your cum?”All whilst looking at you with the wildest fuck me eyes and pushing her clothed tits into you.

Your will was simply not strong enough to resist Yuna when she gets like this, and so you give her what you both want. You nut on her, in her, sometimes both in the same day. Yuna turns No Nut November into something more like Never stop Nutting November. Her day isn't finished unless she gets at least one load, and you're more than happy to give it to her.

Oh well, maybe she'll be less cum hungry this time next year?

Fail.

Lia is very subservient to you during November and goes along with your whims. If you persevere throughout the weeks then she’ll support you along the whole way, doing her best to distract you whenever you get horny. When she feels you getting hard against her ass at night, she’ll turn over and make conversation instead. Or if she can sense you’re about to boil over, she’ll make plans for you both to keep yourselves busy.

But if you instead completely give in, then in a moments notice she’s either on her knees with her tongue out, or bent over with her lips spread apart, ready to use her own body purely to give you pleasure and to extract your cum.

Even when you’re tracking well throughout the month, it’s not like you can completely keep your hands off each other. She likes to suckle on your sensitive balls, massaging them in her mouth whilst you run your fingers through her hair and scalp. 

Schrodinger's Cat. Whether you succeed or fail is completely up to you.

When you present the idea to her, Chaeryeong goes along with it initially but quickly gets impatient and horny. When you’re home she’ll try to hide the fact that she's fucking wet to help you push through, but when you’re out she’ll send you nudes. Scandalous pictures of herself bent over in front of the mirror, her ass wide on display. Or an upwards angle that shows both her dripping wet pussy and her best ‘fuck me’ face. The messages under it read "Can't wait until this month is over so you can be inside me again" or “I've been a good girl and haven’t touched myself yet, can you tell?”

It’s obvious. She wants to break your will down so that you can pound her creamy little pussy and fill her up with cum. Chaeryeong tortures herself along with you, choosing to participate in NNN together, refusing to cum unless you both do. You reply back with videos of your 

You last a week, maybe even two if you're lucky, but you can only tease each other for so long before you find yourself racing through the door, bending her over before you even reach the bedroom. Fucking her on the floor like wild animals in heat. Her body quivers, milking your cock as you dump a massive load inside her. Chaeryeong's pussy is a creamy mess, yours and her cum oozing out of her hole.

Fail.

Ryujin's favourite month of the year is November. Apart from little teases here and there, she doesn’t touch you at all. The most you get is ‘accidental’ grazes of her hand on your hard-on as she walks past. Or when she stretches in bed at night and for one fleeting moment she grinds her ass into your bulge. If you try to initiate anything, or touch yourself, dommy Ryujin comes out. She’ll clutch your balls a bit too hard, or slap you just to let you know who’s in control.

Ryujin will make you watch as she rides on her thick dildo, saying things like “I know you wish I was bouncing up and down on your cock instead. You want to feel my pussy walls suffocating that pathetic throbbing cock, hmm?” From start to end, you have to watch Ryujin fuck herself whilst she humiliates you, and you’re not allowed to do anything about it. “This dildo probably feels better than you anyway, I’m glad I don’t have to feel you inside of me.” You are both well aware this is a blatant lie, but for the course of the month you grit your teeth and go along with it.

On the last day of November you’re so sensitive that even just playing with your balls sends shocks throughout your body, which Ryujin is acutely aware of. Without ever giving attention to your cock, she sucks and plays with your balls for what feels like an hour straight. You’re so touch deprived and tender that this alone eventually makes you cum. That’s right. Ryujin went through all of that just to make you lose NNN on the last day without even touching your cock. She’s a fucking cunt and she knows it.

Fail.

Yeji edges you, using you like a sex toy to get herself off without ever letting you finish. She'll suck you off or fuck you as usual, but anytime you get even remotely close to cumming she’ll stop. If you’re in Yeji’s mouth then she’ll release you from her warmth with a loud pop and then sit on your face. If you’re pounding away at her pussy then she’ll pull you out and finish herself off with a vibrator. You can’t do anything but watch as she squirts all over you.

Your balls ache. Badly. And the further into the month you go, the shorter your edging sessions last before you’re about to nut and she switches to getting herself off. Numerous times you get so damn close to spilling over, but she knows just how to ride the edge. The last week is torturous, and it makes going about the rest of your life difficult.

At midnight of December 1st, the month rolls over (a moment that you have been waiting for since the first night she edged you). Yeji is fast asleep but not even the world ending could stop you now. With your pulsing cock in hand, you pull her silk pajama shorts to the side and thrust balls deep. Yeji’s gentle breathing turns into high pitched moans, announcing that she's awake. You fuck her pussy hard and fast. This was never going to last more than a minute or two, you’re only after one thing here; to ravage her until you came. Now it was her turn to be nothing but a slutty little sex toy.

As much as you appreciate her, this past month of torture has also built up a small amount of resentment towards her that could not be ignored. It was something that you know will wash away as soon as you finally release this load. Wanting to punish her a little, you pull out and switch holes, fucking into her tight ass instead. Yeji groans deeply, but you slap her face and spit in her mouth in response. Given that she wore no panties and her ass was prepped, she clearly knew something like this would happen. How can she be such a good yet bad girl at the same time? After another handful of thrusts, your inevitable peak arrives. A blinding orgasm follows. The only reason you don’t black out is through sheer will of not wanting to let this nut go to waste after waiting 30 days. You pump a couple loads into her ass, then pull out and thrust back into her pussy. After sufficiently painting her guts white, you find your cock still spurting, so you jerk yourself off onto her abs, her tits, her face, and finally depositing the last few drops onto her stretched out tongue. You step back and admire your masterpiece. An entire month of your built up edging load lays inside and on Yeji, who looks up at the ceiling, panting with a wide smile and fucked out exprssion on her face. Her double creampie starts to drip out of both her holes. A trail of your cum spans from her stomach to her perky tits, and of course she also has what appears to be a full load of a facial despite all the cum throughout the rest of her body. She is a cum dumpster, through and through.

Would you go through all that again next November? Almost certainly not. But in this moment would you say it was worth it? Yeji licks up the cum around her lips whilst fingering your cum deeper into her, chasing her own nut.

Absolutely it was.

NNN with Yeji. Success.

A/N: If you're one of the people who chooses to participate in NNN, I hope this smut didn't make you cum. But then again if you're doing the challenge then should you really be browsing porn?

#itzy smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #gg smut #yeji smut #lia smut #ryujin smut #chaeryeong smut #yuna smut #male reader #m reader #NNN #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop headcanons

[the-boy-meets-evil]

a new home for the holidays | ljh

(where you can't go home for the holidays and end up having a much better christmas than you expect.)

pairing: jihoon (woozi) x afab!reader genre: acquaintances to lovers, christmas!au | fluff & smut rating: explicit word count: 10.5k warnings: lots of mentions of christmas (including decorating, family, cooking, etc.), if the holidays are too much please skip this, mentions of family issues, reader can't go home for the holidays (and they actually like christmas), no gendered pronouns used for reader, mentions of past death (family member woozi mentions), woozi owns the house where reader rents a room but there are no power dynamics, explicit and implied smut, woozi is kinda grumpy, reader is super bummed about christmas, woozi ends up being a secret softie smut warnings: lots of kissing, thigh riding, nipple play, marking if you squint, slight begging, two ass slaps, oral (reader rec.), fingering (reader receiving), overstimulation, squirting, briefest handjob, unprotected sex (don't do this), implied aftercare, implied morning after sex

author's note: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays and the final prompt is christmas. i don't really have anything to say for myself. this is not what i'm supposed to be writing and it kinda just happened. merry christmas (if you celebrate) and happy holidays. i've already had christmas dinner, so if you see any mistakes, blame it on the drinks.

The holidays are your favorite time of year. Always have been. Nothing has really changed over the years. You moved away for work and fell in love with a new city. Now you just get to have twice the holiday cheer. You decorate your space in the house you live in with friends (and the grumpy house owner who’s resisted most of your attempts to be friends). Then, you go back to visit family when it gets closer to Christmas. It’s been a really great system. You’re just as excited this year as every other year.

Until your plans change. It’s only the day before you’re supposed to fly back home when your dad calls to let you know that he and your mom are sick. They know that you have a lot of post-Christmas plans (New Years, school work, and even a trip) and they don’t want to risk getting you sick as well. They insist that you can still come back, if you want, but warn you that they’ll have to keep their distance. You spend a lot of time thinking about it (read: talk it over exhaustively with your closest friends) before deciding that you’re just going to stay put for the holidays. You can plan another time to catch up with your family and have a time-shifted Christmas. After all, you think of the holidays as more of a feeling than a specific date on the calendar. You can find something to keep you busy for the 25th.

A couple of your friends invite you to come and spend Christmas Eve or Christmas Day with them, but you decline. You appreciate the sentiment, and really consider it in at least one case, but it just doesn’t feel right. Your family has so many traditions that it feels weird to consider dropping in on someone else’s. Besides, you won’t be alone in the house. (Even if Jihoon, who owns the house and rents out rooms, isn't always the friendliest. And doesn’t seem to enjoy Christmas at all.)

It’s four days before Christmas. You’re sitting in the living room aimlessly scrolling through your phone while you wait for Jun and Minghao to come downstairs. The three of you were all supposed to be heading to the airport together today, but now you’re just going to be driving them so they don’t have to pay for a ride. A sound makes you look up before you realize it’s not nearly enough noise for Jun, who can’t seem to go anywhere without being too loud. Instead, Jihoon only nods at you before he settles into an armchair on the other side of the room with a book. After a few minutes, you hear the telltale giggles of one of your best friends as he rushes down the stairs. Jun is through the door first, followed by an exasperated Minghao. Nevertheless, you see the signs he’s trying to fight his smile. You stand to meet them at the doorway.

“Bestie,” Jun signsongs when he reaches you. Throws his arms around you for good measure. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” 

“Jun, for the last time, we were supposed to leave for the airport 45 minutes ago,” Minghao sighs. “There wouldn’t be time to pack.”

“Details, we’ve got plenty of time,” Jun waves off. 

“And last minute plane tickets are insane,” Minghao adds. 

“Less insane with a travel credit,” Jun supplies, undeterred. 

“Jun, please, we really need to leave,” Minghao begs.

“Are you not going home?” Jihoon asks. He’s so quiet when he moves that you didn’t even hear him stand up to join your group.

“Oh, no, I guess I forgot to let you know,” you start. You didn’t. Jihoon scares you a little. He’s nice enough and he’s great as a landlord, if you can even call him that, but you’re not really friends. 

“You don’t have to let me know,” he huffs out.

“I decided not to go home this year. Both my parents are sick and I don’t want to catch it too, so we’re timeshifting the holidays,” you say. 

“So it’s just you two in the house for Christmas,” Jun says brightly as he throws an arm around Jihoon. “Take good care of my bestie, okay?” 

“It’s fine, Jihoon, I’m not expecting you to do anything with me,” you say before he can even open his mouth. 

“But…” Jun starts and you turn him around before he can finish.

“Come on, before we give Hao an aneurysm. Do you need help getting your stuff outside?” you ask. 

“Bless you,” Minghao mutters as you’re wrangling your best friend out of the house.

Once you’re back at the house, all you want to do is lay in your bed. It was a lot of work to pretend everything was fine while taking Jun and Minghao to the airport. Traffic was bad getting back, so you didn’t really have it in you to break down. Now that you’re home and in your room, the tears don’t come. It’s not who you are. It sucks that you’re not going home for the holidays, but it’s still the holidays and you can still make the most of it. Maybe. Somehow. 

Somewhere in the house, you hear a door close loudly. Probably just Jihoon since everyone else has left. For a moment, you consider going downstairs to see what he’s up to. But, again, you’re not really friends. Moving seems like too much effort, anyway. You flop back onto your bed and get comfortable. Wait until you’re hungry to actually leave your room to find something to eat. You’re probably going to need more groceries before Christmas, because you still want to make some of your favorites, but you probably have enough for something to eat tonight. When you walk into the kitchen, you smell something delicious. There’s a big pot on the stove with the burner on beneath it. 

You’re just about to lift the lid when Jihoon comes back into the kitchen. “Leave it.” 

“Oh, sorry!” you gasp, surprised by his appearance and unsure of the tone.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. “I just don’t wanna fuck it up.” 

“That’s a big pot of soup,” you say.

“Yeah, I figured you might be hungry,” he says, like it’s the most logical thing in the world.

“Oh!” you say. 

“I mean, I don’t know if you like Chicken Ramen soup, it’s a little spicy, but I like it around this time of year,” Jihoon says. He looks a bit awkward and unsure.

“That sounds really nice, actually,” you admit. “You don’t mind sharing?” 

“No, I wanted to share,” he assures you. “It’ll be done soon.”

With a nod, you go to sit down at the kitchen table. The silence isn’t totally comfortable, but it’s not uncomfortable either. Not exactly. This is already shaping up to be the most time you’ve spent alone with him, if you end up eating together. It makes you wonder more about him. He seems really focused as he cleans up around the kitchen. His black hair is the longest you can remember seeing it, falling around his face as he leans over. It’s almost soft to watch him brush it out of his face. 

As you’re sitting there waiting for the soup to finish, you realize that you don’t know much about him at all. Even though you’ve lived in this house almost two years, he’s still very much a mystery. You know that the house has been in the family for a long time and he was the only one who was willing to take the project of managing it on. Or that’s what you think he said once. Someone, maybe a cousin or friend or something, thought he was a bit crazy for renting rooms out like this. But, it’s a massive house and he’s single. (There are 6 bedrooms, all with attached bathrooms, multiple living rooms, and an office that he uses for himself. The house is paid off so the rent goes towards things like property taxes, maintenance plans, and anything else that comes up.) You know he also produces music, though you’ve never heard any of it. Not that anyone has, he’s very private and doesn’t even share what name he produces under. 

It’s clear when he brings each of you a bowl of soup that he’s expecting the food to do the talking for him. It’s cute and also puzzling at the same time. How does someone who wants to speak through something like making soup have a successful career as a producer? You shake the thought away and make conversation yourself. Most of what you get are short answers, but it’s something. And you definitely learn more about him. He deflects a little when you ask about his family, prefers to turn it around so you can talk about yours. Which you don’t really mind, even if it’s a little sad to think you won’t get to see them.

“Hey, I was thinking I might go and see about getting more decorations for the house tomorrow. Is that okay?” you ask when you’re finished eating.

“You really like Christmas, don’t you?” 

It’s not really an answer, which makes you look up to find something of a smile on his face. Maybe a little teasing behind the smile. “Yeah, I just really like the joy of it all.”

“I don’t mind. There also might be some stuff in the attic that I can pull out,” he says as he stands to clear the dishes. 

“That would be better than braving the crazies,” you say.

“Come on, I’ll show you how to get up there,” he says. Doesn’t even check if you’re following him before leaving the kitchen.

You scramble to your feet to catch up to him. Truthfully, you didn’t even know the house had an attic. It isn’t surprising. It’s an old house, but still. This is just another small thing that you feel like helps you better unwrap the mystery of Lee Jihoon. Upstairs, he opens the closet and pulls out a hook to unlatch a door in the ceiling just outside of Minghao’s room. Huh. You’ve never even noticed it, not that you’re outside this room often. To your further surprise, Jihoon flicks on a switch and then climbs up the ladder into the attic. Once again, you follow close behind him. 

There are a lot of boxes in the attic, mostly labeled with names or rooms or both. You figure they probably belong to relatives. Or maybe past renters. In any case, it seems best to not bother asking. Especially since he’s making a beeline to one corner. You fight the urge to laugh. So much for thinking there were decorations up here. By the way he walks, you can tell he knows exactly where they are. It’s worth it, though, because there are about a dozen boxes with garlands, ornaments, wreaths, and other various knickknacks. Jihoon asks which of the boxes you might want and sighs when you say you want to bring them all down. Doesn’t argue, though, just tells you how to help him get them down. Even helps you get some of them downstairs.

“Guess we might need a tree,” he sighs when you get the last box out of the attic.

“Oh, I can find a fake one at the store or something. It’s no big deal,” you mumble out.

“I have to take care of something in the morning, then we can go pick one out,” he says without looking at you.

“Really?” It comes out nearly as a squeak. 

He rolls his eyes, which might discourage you if you hadn’t also caught the faintest smile. “Yeah, we might as well with all this stuff out of the attic.” 

You distinctly hear him mumbling something about the damn Christmas spirit as he walks away, leaving you to happily sort through boxes. Hope can be dangerous, especially around the holidays when your plans are interrupted. But, you can’t help it. You feel a little spark of hope.

The house is quiet when you wake up. It’s hard to tell if Jihoon is around or not until you peek out into where you all park to see that his truck is missing. When you first met him, the truck surprised you. It’s not really flashy, or even new, for that matter, just an old, vintage Chevy that’s in completely perfect condition. It’s probably older than either of you, but you’d never know by how it looks. The more you get to know this man, the more the truck makes sense.

With the house empty, you can listen to music as loud as you want. You connect your phone to the speaker and Christmas music carries throughout the house in moments. Coffee in hand, you set out to get some of the decorations up while it’s just you. But, even with the music and the decorations, you’re feeling a little empty again. It’s not the same to be doing this all by yourself. You know, at least on some level, that you’re not totally alone. There’s also Jihoon and he isn’t going anywhere for the holidays. But, he obviously doesn’t like Christmas much if the lack of decorations or tree are anything to go by. Maybe you’re just a burden on him too.

Your phone dings and you look around for a minute before you find it on the table. The surprise of who’s texting you makes you unlock your phone right away.

Jihoon: Finished early and actually found a tree that works when I was driving home Jihoon: I hope that’s okay. I didn’t want it to be gone

There’s no explanation for the tears you’re blinking away. It’s not about picking out the tree. That part of Christmas hasn’t ever been an important part to you. Ever since you moved away, your parents got one before you flew in anyway. No, it’s more to do with the little you know about Jihoon and that truck. It’s almost like his child. He’s so careful about it. Somehow, Jun has managed to at least get to the point of being friends with him. Then again, Jun can wear anyone down. But, through Jun, you know how particular Jihoon can be about his truck. You distinctly remember Jun saying he wasn’t allowed to eat or drink in it (not that unusual) and that he had to brush off his shoes before getting in to avoid the dirt (a lot more unusual, especially someplace it snows). It probably doesn’t mean anything. It’s probably just your emotions about the change of holiday plans taking over. But, you’re overwhelmed that he’d pick up a tree and use his own truck.

You: oh, yeah! thanks! You: let me know you’re here and i’ll come help

The tree that Jihoon shows up with is completely perfect. Even still wrapped, you can tell that it’s going to be full. And that you’re going to have to work a little harder to get the branches to fall by Christmas. Not only did Jihoon use his truck to bring a tree back, he also has several bags of stuff, including a tree stand. It makes you wonder what he actually had to do this morning. It isn’t until you have to bring the tree in that you wonder how the hell you’re going to lift it into the house. That is, until Jihoon reaches through the branches and lifts up the tree. You try not to watch the way his muscles tense under his shirt. Fail miserably, actually, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He calls for you from the living room to help him fasten the tree into place. It’s a good thing, too, because you don’t really need to be dwelling on whether the guy who’s basically your landlord is hot or not. 

Once the tree is up, he makes an excuse about needing to get some work done and disappears off to his studio. It had actually been really fun, even if it was short, to have Jihoon around and sharing in the space. It feels a little empty again. But, there’s still plenty of decorating to do. So you get to work. You’re hoping that somewhere in the process of decorating, it’ll start to feel a little more like Christmas. You consider calling Jun to answer his texts. Unfortunately, he knows your tones of voice better than you do. There’s no way you’ll be able to hide being sad. You can just fire off a couple quick texts to tell him about the tree and about how you’re decorating now. 

An hour later, you’re kind of ready to give up. It’s just not going to feel like Christmas. Not when the joy and the sense of togetherness are missing. The second that you hear footsteps on the stairs, you wipe your eyes. The last thing you want is for Jihoon to see you crying. If he can tell, he doesn’t comment. Doesn’t say anything, actually. Just puts two bags down and starts sorting through ornaments, both old and clearly new. It’s the smallest gesture, yet you don’t feel so alone anymore. 

“Do you want to listen to some music?” he finally asks to break the silence.

“Yeah, I can get a playlist,” you answer and reach for your phone.

“I have some, too. I’m not heartless,” he says with a chuckle.

“I never said…” you start, only to stop when he rests a hand on your arm.

“I was joking,” he says. 

You’re not trying to be nosy, but you see him scroll through a few playlists while he’s looking for holiday music. “What were those?” 

Jihoon looks up at you, confused, before looking back down at his phone. “Oh, nothing. Just stuff I’m working on.” 

“I’d love to hear that,” you admit.

“What? The stuff that’s not done?” he asks, abandoning his search for a playlist.

“Well, yeah, but I meant the stuff you have finished,” you say.

“Oh, um, I don’t usually share that. I like to keep that separate,” he says awkwardly.

“It’s fine, I totally get it,” you say, brushing off any disappointment, and return to your focus on sorting through ornaments. 

“Fuck it, sure. I’ll let you listen to some,” he says. Your head whips up with a beaming smile. And you have no way of knowing that it makes his heart stutter.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah, but if you hate them, don’t tell me,” he warns. 

You hold out your pinky as a promise. Jihoon grumbles under his breath for a second before linking his pinky through yours as a promise. He scrolls back to one of the earlier playlists, keeps the name hidden from you, and hits play. The first song immediately puts you in a good mood. It’s upbeat and happy, full of good life advice. Just the type of thing you need right now. One song flows into the next and you’re smiling without even realizing it, singing along to songs that you can’t believe you know. Can’t believe this quiet man has so much talent. Can’t believe he works on such popular songs and still lives a simple life in a shared house with roommates that are way too loud.

It’s him that starts the conversation up again, seemingly unable to stop himself from asking for your thoughts. It’s the most animated you’ve ever seen him, asking for your opinions and talking about his process. The more you listen, the more he seems to have to say. At times, you’re not even sure that you hear what he’s saying. This animated side to him has you so entranced that you think you’d do anything to keep him speaking. Keep him smiling like this. 

The house feels a lot warmer now that you’re decorating together and talking about anything under the sun. Talking about music seems to have opened him up to talking about a lot of things. About his interests, books he’s reading, games he likes to play. You find there are actually a lot of those things that you have in common. You have similar taste in books and in games, even offer to lend some books to him. He makes you promise that it’ll be an even trade so that he feels better about it. 

When dinner time comes around, he suggests ordering delivery. You agree, but only on the condition that you can figure out a Christmas menu over dinner. That signature sigh and eye roll make another appearance, like he’s so exasperated by the process. It’s less effective now that you’re starting to know him better. A part of you thinks that it might even be an action reserved for people he cares about, even if that care is only small. But, you’re starting to learn how to play the game too. You pout at him and make your eyes as big as you can when you ask the second time. Before you can ask the third time, he relents and agrees. 

With your favorite food spread out in front of you, from a place he’s somehow never tried, you start to make a list of your favorite Christmas dishes. Thankfully, some of your favorite things seem to line up and otherwise, Jihoon doesn’t really mind what you have. Once, he reminds you that there are only two of you, so you don’t need to go overboard. You’re quick to point out that leftovers are great and that your housemates come back shortly after Christmas. Again, he finds himself giving in to what you want. 

You’re watching him clean up the boxes and considering your next question. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” he points out, back still to you. 

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick.”

“Now is that any way to speak to your landlord?” he teases, finally turning around.

“That’s actually what I wanted to ask you,” you say.

“If you can call me a dick?” he wonders and you laugh.

“No,” you manage. “No. I wanted to know…well, you’re obviously successful. Why live in a house with so many loud housemates?” 

Jihoon looks thoughtful for a moment, turns around to continue throwing things out. You think he’s not going to answer when he comes to sit down across from you again. “I like the chaos. It's good for me. I don’t just mean because it inspires me. It does. But, it’s also good. I get a little in my head, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t always have the easiest time getting out. There’s always someone around here.” 

“You secretly like us,” you coo because you’re not sure what else to say.

“I regret telling you,” he says and huffs.

“I’m kidding, Ji. I really like living here, even if you scared me at first. It feels like a weird, dysfunctional family,” you say.

“Do I still?” he asks, oddly serious.

“What? Scare me?” 

“Yeah.”

“No, you don’t. I think you’re actually a lot softer than you want us to realize,” you say and watch his face. “Don’t worry, Ji, your secret’s safe with me.” 

“Is that nickname going to stick?” he wonders.

“That depends. Do you like it?” 

“Would it matter if I said no?” 

“Of course it would.” 

He looks away and clears his throat. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was a little shy or embarrassed. “I do like it.” 

“I’ll be sure to use it a lot, then,” you say. More tease, really. You’re curious to see how he reacts and you’re not disappointed. There’s a slight blush to his cheeks. If you could see his ears through his hair, you think those would be tinged red as well. 

It takes him a minute to regain his composure. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re exhausting?”

“How do you think I manage to keep up with Jun?” you fire back.

“He adores you, you know,” Jihoon says and it’s the softest you’ve seen him while talking about another person. 

“I’m glad because I adore him, too,” you say without even thinking about it. “Although, sometimes he acts like the brother I definitely never wanted.” 

Jihoon actually laughs at that, a real laugh, and the sound is so pretty. “The brother you never wanted. How does he feel about that?”

“Fine because I also tell him that sometimes he’s the brother I did want. So it evens out,” you reason.

“You see him like family?” he asks, an unplaceable emotion on his face.

“Yeah,” you answer immediately.

“Why didn’t you take his offer to go home with him for the holidays?” 

That’s not the question you’re expecting. It makes you frown a little. You had forgotten, just for a moment, that this year was different. “Oh, well, I don’t know. Jun is family to me and I do love him like he’s my brother. But, um, I guess it’s that he’s family to me. Not his family. I like them and they’re great, but it would feel like intruding to have accepted. Like I was someone they had to make feel welcome, a guest. Not someone who was actually part of everything.” 

“I get that,” he says. 

“Why do you stay here on Christmas?” you wonder, venturing further into knowing him.

His shoulders slump a little bit, like he’s not really happy with how this turned either. “I don’t really talk to a lot of my family anymore.” 

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t…” you start and he waves you off.

“No, no, it’s fine. You asked me about being successful and still living here with housemates. I told you most of the story, but not all of it,” he admits. 

Without thinking about it, you get up from your chair to sit beside him. Put your hand on his arm to let him know that he doesn’t have to share this part of himself if he doesn’t want to or if he’s not ready. But, he insists he wants to share it with you now that you’ve also heard some of his music. His grandfather owned his house and got it from his grandfather before him. Jihoon had always been close to his grandparents. He was the only grandkid to come around and help them with things. His grandmother would try to teach him how to cook, even though he was never very good. She also taught him all sorts of games, that’s where he got a lot of that from. His grandfather taught him how to fix a car himself, how to fix things around the house, just how to be able to rely on yourself. They were the first ones that he told about wanting to make music and the first to encourage him even when the rest of the family thought it was stupid. They were the first ones to find out he’d gotten his first shot at just seventeen years old. They were the ones who taught him how to be careful with his money, to not blow it all because you never knew when the next shot would come. In the end, it wasn’t even old age that took them. A car accident on a snowy night took his grandmother. He lost his grandfather six months later from a broken heart. 

It’s hard to remember that time because they were everything to him. He hadn’t even realized that they had changed their Will. That they had rewritten it to leave everything to him. If he had known, he never would have accepted it. But, there was a letter, too, confirming his grandfather had been of sound mind when they changed it. It went on to say that Jihoon was the only one in the family that came around just because he wanted to. So, he was the only one they felt could care for their legacy after they were gone. Something like that, it brings out the worst in people. Jihoon’s family was no different. First, they all insisted that he should share it, that they were owed part of it by blood. And then, they started to realize that he had his own success already. That he was selling songs and working with more people. They didn’t know who, exactly, because he never told him his pseudonym for producing, but the final letter from his grandfather mentioned how proud they had been. It got even uglier from there. Family members he’d never spoken to came out of the woodwork asking for favors or saying he should help. He had the means to do it, by his own success and the inheritance. In the end, he wound up cutting most of them out unless they were able to understand that they weren’t entitled to something he earned. 

“So that’s why I stay here, it’s just easier,” he finishes.

You’re not even sure when you started crying, but you turn away to wipe your eyes. It’s not even your sadness. When you turn back, you find Jihoon looking closed-off. It breaks your heart all over again as you reach out to him. “Nobody should have to deal with that. What they did, what they put you through, it’s awful.” 

“We all have history, right?” he asks. “I just don’t like to share it because I don’t want to be questioning if people like me for me or for what I could do for them.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I still see you as a former grumpy cat, secret softie and my…” you start, but trail off, trying to find the right word.

“Landlord?” he suggests through a humorless laugh. It makes your eyes soften at him.

“No, friend,” you decide. 

“I just dumped a bunch of trauma on you and you wanna be my friend?” he asks, partly self-deprecating, partly hopeful.

“You don’t seem so bad,” you shrug. 

“I guess we’ll see,” he says softly.

The rest of the night is lighter, mostly with you trying to figure out more things he likes as subtly as possible. He laughs when you come downstairs with the presents you’re saving until Christmas to open because he can tell Jun’s right away. You don’t tell him that you’ve already ordered half a dozen small things that’ll be at the house by Christmas Eve so that you can wrap them all up for him. You just want to see his face.

Two days before Christmas, you and Jihoon finish off the decorations and pick up groceries. Well, you’re the one who picks up groceries after insisting on splitting the bill. Jihoon has another mysterious errand that he has to run. Even though you really want to know, you decide to let him have his secrets. At least for now. You’re beginning to understand that he trusts you and he’ll tell you whatever it is when he’s ready, if it even has anything to do with you at all. 

When the morning of Christmas Eve dawns, you’re actually excited. The past few days have been a whirlwind, and you’re definitely not done, but the house feels like Christmas. Three days ago you never would have thought Jihoon was enough to bring that holiday joy into the house. Now, you’re so insanely thankful that he’s gone above and beyond. Without anyone else around, or any other distractions, it’s been like a crash course in getting to know each other. There’s so much more to him than you ever realized. 

The day passes in a haze of cooking, wrapping last minute presents, and laughter. Lots of laughter. You’ve heard Jihoon laugh more in the last couple days than in the entire time you’ve lived here. Not for the first time, you think it’s a wonderful sound and wish he’d laugh more. It’s easy to understand why he doesn’t, why he’s so guarded, but still. A person can dream. 

With all the food prepped and the tree perfectly decorated, you decide it’s time to put your additional presents underneath. Jihoon huffs when you say you just got him a few small things you thought he’d like, before returning with a handful of presents for you. Every fiber of your being wants to give him shit over it. But, it’s Christmas, so you just call a truce instead. And light up like a kid when he suggests starting a fire in the fireplace. 

“I’ll go make adult hot cocoa,” you tell him when he starts crumpling up old newspapers for the base of the fire.

“Adult hot cocoa?” he asks, face scrunched up like he’s adorably confused.

“Unless you just want the non-alcoholic version,” you offer.

“I’ll at least try it,” he concedes. His smile is soft when you squeal and run off to the kitchen. 

By the time you’ve melted the chocolate (because who uses a premade mix in a kitchen this nice?), Jihoon has the fire going and is sitting on the couch. You’re about to ask why he’s scrolling his phone when he presses a button and Christmas music softly starts playing through the speakers. You hand over his mug and watch as he takes a sip. Even if he tries to hide it, you can tell he loves it and your smile is victorious. Probably why he tries to hide it. 

You’re onto your second mug and asking Jihoon to find a blanket so that you can sit on the floor in front of the couch. It’s easier to stretch out closer to the fire. As is his way, he whines about how it’ll be too warm, even though you tell him he doesn’t have to sit with you. Still, he gets the blanket and plops down right next to you, so close that you’re almost touching. It only takes a couple minutes before he’s complaining that it’s really warm and then pulling off his sweatshirt. Your retort dies on your lips when you turn your head to the side and see the way the sweatshirt pulls his t-shirt up on the way. Or how muscular his arms look now that they’re exposed. You’re thankful that you look away before he catches you. 

It’s quiet between the two of you as you watch the flames dance in the fireplace. There’s only comfort now, unlike a few days ago. That strikes you. Has it only been a few days since this man was something of a stranger to you? It almost feels like a lifetime ago. When you turn your head to him, you find he’s already looking at you.

“Can I admit something?” you ask. 

“Course,” he says softly.

“I’m really glad I decided to stay here for Christmas,” you say, equally softly. You want to take a mental image of the smile that follows. 

“Can I admit something, too?” he asks. You only nod. “I’m really glad you did too. This is the best Christmas I’ve had in years and it’s still only Christmas Eve.” 

Before you can think better of it, you lean forward and kiss his cheek. Just for a second. Then you drop your head to his shoulder and let out a sigh. It’s the most content you’ve felt in a long time. Jihoon adjusts his arm, and you worry he doesn’t want your head on his shoulder, until he just moves it along the edge of the couch. It lets you lean against him easier, so you scoot a little closer and settle again. After another minute, he rests his head on top of yours. Without even seeming to realize it, his arm curls around your shoulder, holding you tight to him. It makes you acutely aware of his body next to yours. Moments ago, you were thinking that you could fall asleep like this. Now, you’re wide awake. 

He must sense some kind of change because he pulls his head up. “Are you okay?” 

His voice is so gentle, so full of concern. You wonder how he can sound so calm when your brain is overthinking everything. “Yeah, I just, I don’t know. Being close to you like this is really nice and not at all what I was expecting.” 

Jihoon reaches out to tilt your chin up so that he can look you in the eyes. “It doesn’t have to be something you’re not expecting. It is nice to be close to you like this.” 

That’s the other thing you can’t really believe has changed so much in a matter of days. This man is a walking contradiction in so many ways. Grumpy as a default, yet so incredibly soft. The most private person you’ve met, yet willing to share why he struggles with Christmas. Rough around the edges, yet also unfailingly kind. Constantly wearing oversized clothes, yet secretly really fit. Okay, maybe that’s not so much a contradiction as you checking him out. 

“What if I was open to it being more than just being close?” you venture.

“How much is in your adult hot cocoa?” he asks, with some obvious difficulty.

“Enough to make me a little more honest, maybe, but not even enough to get buzzed on,” you answer. 

“Then, I can say if you’re open to more than just being close, I really fucking want to kiss you,” he says. “I have all day.”

“Just all day?” you tease. He gives you an unimpressed look. “What are you waiting for?” 

“You to say it’s okay,” he says and leans closer to you. 

“It’s okay, Ji,” you whisper, lips already nearly touching. 

You’re expecting a soft kiss, are as prepared for that as you can be. And it starts off relatively soft, like he’s testing the waters. It quickly morphs into anything, but soft. It’s the kind of kiss that sets your entire body on fire. The kind of kiss that steals your breath and becomes the only thing you need. It’s steady and desperate, all at the same time. You’re not even sure how your hands find their way into his hair that curls along his neck. It’s even softer than you imagined it would be. 

“So, is this your move?” you ask, pulling away just long enough to catch your breath.

“What?” he asks. His lips are already a little swollen.

“Getting the fire going with a little music on in the background,” you tease.

“Trust me,” he begins, punctuating his words with featherlight kisses along your neck. “I’ve never gone to this much trouble for anyone and it definitely wasn’t to get here.” 

The confession is so honest. So serious. It’s completely at odds with your teasing. But, should you really expect anything else from Jihoon? He can tease with the best of them, for sure. The last few days he’s also shown that you bring out an honesty that surprises him. You’re not sure if you trust yourself to speak, so you just pull his face up to kiss him again. It’s kind of an uncomfortable position, leaning against the couch, but you’re also not really sure if you care. That is, you’re not sure you care until he turns to pull you into his lap. It’s a little awkward and you have to break the kiss to get settled. Once you’re settled, though, it’s much nicer to be straddled across him like this. Much easier to press your chest into his and keep tangling your fingers in his hair. Much easier for him to wrap his arms around you like he doesn’t want you to go anywhere. You want to tell him that there’s nowhere else in the world you’d rather be. 

As you kiss him, you let your hands wander down his arms. There’s a safety in being held by him. There’s a strength to him you really never realized, kind of quiet like he is, a little unassuming. The kind of strength that sneaks up on you when you’re not really expecting it. Not only does every part of your body respond to him, but your mind does too. It’s just safe. You’re not sure how you know, you just do. He’s the kind of person that you can really trust to see all of you and still accept you. It’s entirely too much to be feeling about someone this fast, so you push that aside. When you inch your bodies closer together, your core drags across him and sends an ache through you. You do it several more times, back and forth, craving that friction.

“Fuck,” he hisses out. 

“I’m sorry, is that too much?” you worry. Suddenly a little self-conscious that there’s been some kind of miscommunication. 

He grabs your chin and pulls you back to look into his eyes. “No. It’s never too much. I want whatever you’re willing to give me.” 

“But, you don’t know what I’m…” you start. His eyes are serious, intense. You’re burning up and it has nothing to do with the fire.

“Whatever you’re willing to give me, I’ll happily take it. Even if that means it doesn’t go past this,” he reassures you. 

“I think I want it all,” you whisper. 

“You think you do, or you actually do?” he asks. 

You study him for a moment, looking for signs that he’s going to hurry off or something. With one of his hands, he’s tracing patterns against your thigh through the material of your pants. Everything about him seems sincere. Everything seems steady. 

“I do.” 

It’s a different smile he gives you then, one that says he’s relieved, maybe even a little surprised. One that says he’s genuinely happy. But, most of all, one that says he just wants whatever the night turns into. 

“Let’s go upstairs, I don’t want you hurting your knees like this,” he says softly. 

You look over your shoulder at the fireplace and he follows your gaze. “We should…”

“I’ll take care of that, just go upstairs. To my room,” he says and you suppress a slight shudder at being told what to do. You kind of like that side of him. “Get comfortable, I’ll just be a minute.” 

You get off his lap, quietly thankful for his consideration of your knees and kiss him softly. It’s also easy to see that he’s giving you a little bit of time to be sure. To clear your head away from the tree and the fire and the holiday everything. It’s time you don’t need because you’re definitely sure. The second you step foot through his door, you realize that you’ve never been in his bedroom before. It’s beautifully decorated in a way that screams him. When you sit down on the edge of the bed, you sigh. It’s so comfortable. 

This part hasn’t ever been the easiest for you, the waiting for someone to come into the room and knowing what’s going to happen. But, you do know what’s happening and sitting there completely clothed seems silly. In the end, you settle for leaving your sleeveless shirt and underwear on, but taking everything else off, including your bra. You just have time to sit back against the bed when he walks through the door and closes it behind him. Force of habit, you assume, since there isn’t anyone else home. His eyes drink you in, scanning down your body and all your curves. It’s so immediately comfortable that you don’t have the urge to cover back up. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he utters and it makes you blush a little. “Has anyone ever told you that?” 

“Not in a while when I’ve been this undressed,” you answer quietly with your head down. 

You feel the bed dip and look up at him, sitting right in front of you. “That’s crazy. You’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever known.” 

“You’re so sweet,” you say with a smile.

“It’s what you deserve,” he says and gets back off the bed. 

It’s his turn to remove the layers, stopping when all he has are his boxer briefs. You fight back a gasp (and lose, as is evident by his smirk) when he takes off his shirt. What the fuck?

“Jihoon, what the fuck? Come here,” you request. He listens, but takes his time. When he’s within your reach, you run your fingers along his stomach. Trace each ab muscle like you can’t believe this is what’s been under the shirt the whole time. 

“I work about a bit,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes.

“A bit, he says,” you tease back.

“Can I get in the bed now? Or do I have to stay here?” he asks.

“You can get in bed, but I want to be in your lap again,” you state.

“Fine by me,” he readily agrees. 

There’s a weird sense of time with him. You could kiss him for hours, may just do that. It also feels like it’s only been seconds when you pull back to catch your breath. You delight in the way he hisses when you run your nails down his stomach. Yelp when he smacks your ass in response. But, it doesn’t stop you from doing it again, maybe just so you can get another smack. You tell him not to be too gentle with you and he groans. There’s still that little bit of clothing between you, though, and it’s hard to get the friction you need. 

It’s like he senses what you want, or maybe what you need, and he positions you over one of his thighs. Helps you move back and forth to find a rhythm. It gives you that friction that you’ve been craving. He peppers kisses all over, trying to find the places that you like. Lingers wherever gets the best noises out of you. All while you grind against his thigh. When you think it can’t get better, he pulls your shirt up over your head and casts it aside. He rolls one of your nipples between his fingers. The look on his face when you arch into his fingers is so satisfied. It makes him carry on while also kissing across your chest.

“Fuck, Ji, if I keep this up I’m gonna come on your thigh,” you whimper.

“So do it,” he answers.

“I can’t, that’s…” you start, cutting off when he sucks hard into the skin of your breast. “Fuck!” 

“That’s what?” he prompts, returning to your nipple.

“I can’t come just from this,” you mutter lamely. It makes you feel like a teenager. 

“Then I better help because I want you to make a mess,” he says. 

Before you can protest, he’s kissing you again. His thumb hooks into your underwear and rubs across your clit in time with you rocking. It’s too much all at once. Too much stimulation. Too close. Too different. It all works, though, because you’re coming undone in seconds. Making a mess of his thigh just like he wanted. Screaming out his name and thankful to know nobody else can hear you. You lean forward to rest your forehead against his, trying to steady your breathing. 

“That was so hot,” he whispers into the limited space between you.

“I’ve never gotten off like that before,” you admit. 

“I wonder if there’s anything else I can pull out of you for the first time,” he says. 

“Like what?” you wonder.

“I guess we’ll see,” he answers

“I think it’s time for me to take care of you,” you say.

He kisses you gently and pulls away. “Not yet.” 

“But,” you start, only to cut off when he flips the two of you over. 

The shock over being completely manhandled by Jihoon is all you register until you feel his fingers by your hips, tugging your ruined underwear down your legs. All you can do is watch as he kisses from your ankle all the way up your inner thigh and down the other side. When he pulls himself back up your body to settle between your legs, you shiver. Try to play it off as his breath against your cunt, still slick. You watch as he spreads your lips open so that he can lick into you. 

“Fuck, Ji,” you whine out. 

“Just relax, sweetheart,” he urges before diving into you again. 

You’re expecting it to be a little frenzied. Not that you’ve never enjoyed getting eaten out, but you just kind of see it as foreplay to get through. That was before Jihoon, apparently. He takes his time, carefully builds you up again. Has you begging for something more. Has you uttering phrases that don’t make any sense. Has you seeing stars in the darkness of the room. Has you feeling the loss when he removes his mouth.

“No, Ji, please,” you beg. “Your tongue feels so good.” 

“I know,” he says and then he’s kissing you. 

He keeps kissing you as he runs a finger through your wetness, once and then again. Keeps kissing you when he slides his finger inside of you. Nips at your lip when you moan at the addition of his second finger. You can feel how tightly you’re coiled from the build up with his tongue. The way he fucks his fingers into you, you know you won’t last long. It’s hard and fast and as desperate as you felt moments ago when you begged for him. He’s relentless, even when your walls grip his fingers and your toes start to curl. You come so hard on his finger that he actually has you squirting. And honestly, he’s got you blacking out a little bit too. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” you curse when he falls beside you. “Your fingers, your mouth, oh my god.” 

“I’d ask if it was good, but I think I know the answer,” he chuckles. 

You swat at his chest, but he catches your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. So tender that it takes the bite out of your next statement. “Fuck off.” 

“Your body is so amazing, I could watch you come every day and never get sick of it,” he admits. 

You prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him. He’s laying on his back, hand casually running over his already hard dick through his briefs. You move his hand and free him. There’s a hunger in his gaze as he watches you spit into your hand and start running it along his shaft. 

“Go slow,” he requests and you look at up at him. “Watching you is so hot that I’m a little wound up. And I still want to fuck you.” 

“Jihoon, you’ve already…” you start. 

“Please. You can take care of me anytime. I want to feel you around me,” he whispers. It’s not quite a beg, but it’s close. All you can do is nod okay. “I need to hear you.”

“Yes, Ji, I want you to fuck me,” you say. 

He rolls over on the bed to reach into the bedside table and rustles around for a minute. The sign before he rolls back over sounds bad. “I don’t have a condom. It’s, uh, well it’s been awhile.” 

“It’s okay,” you say.

“I guess maybe this will have to…” he starts.

“No, I mean it’s fine. I’m on birth control and it’s been awhile for me too, so it’s fine. I trust you,” you say, finding you do actually trust him. 

“Are you sure?” he checks.

“Fuck, yes, please. I don’t care that you’ve made me come twice already, please fuck me,” you insist and it works. He smiles and slides his briefs off. 

In another second, he’s positioning himself between your legs again. You lay back against the pillow behind your head and just look up at him, so impossibly fond. It’s too soon to be this fond. But, you see the same look in his eyes, so maybe you’re not alone. He lines himself up and drags his tip against your entrance. Opens the lube you hadn’t even noticed and takes it into his hand. He lets it warm up for a second before running his hand over his dick. Then, he’s back at your entrance and slowly pressing into you. He takes his time letting you adjust, watches your face for signs that it’s okay. He leans forward to kiss you and it’s so gentle you want to cry. 

You’re glad this is slow, that he’s taking his time. It’s not that you’re inexperienced, it’s just that you can’t remember the last time you felt this comfortable with anyone. You’re not sure you’ve ever known how nice it was to just look into someone’s eyes while you’re fucking. Not sure you’ve wanted to be this close. Jihoon’s body is pressed against yours as he thrusts into you, but it’s still not enough. You wrap your legs around his hips, run your fingers down his back, arch into him. Anything to meld your bodies together that much more. He’s not as vocal now, but you’re probably taking care of that for both of you. You can see all the things he wants to say in the eyes that stay trained on you. 

His thrusts start to get a little off rhythm and your moans become more broken. “Fuck, Ji, yes! Right there.”

“I’m gonna fucking come, oh my god,” he moans out. 

“Me too,” you whine. “Fuck, it’s too much.”

“Come for me, please, I need to feel you,” he very nearly begs. 

“Fuck, I’m coming!” you scream out. 

Your whole body shudders and you sort of register the praise coming from Jihoon. He follows right behind you, releasing into you. You can tell he’s trying to keep his weight off of you, but you pull him to just let go. Reluctantly, he settles his body down on top of yours. The weight is pleasant and being close to him is even better. After a moment, his breathing falls into line with yours. It’s several moments longer before he carefully pulls out of you and rolls to the side. 

“Wow,” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah,” you agree. 

It’s much later than usual for you by the time you wake up on Christmas morning. But, it had been late by the time you and Jihoon had gotten cleaned up and back in bed. Even later by the time you stopped wanting to talk while all cuddled up. When you wake up, you feel his chest pressed into your back and his arm draped across your body. The second you start to move, his arm tightens and he somehow pulls you closer to him. He presses kiss into your hair. 

“Merry Christmas,” he says, voice thick with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” you answer. 

He adjusts behind you and you realize he’s a little hard again, pressing into your ass. Even though you know it’s not fair, you wiggle your ass against him. You’re more than a little surprised when he bucks, just once, into you in response. 

“Sorry, I’m sure you’re a little sore this morning,” he says, still hoarse. 

“Not so sore,” you answer, pressing back again.

“Don’t you want to see what’s under the tree?” he asks, the teasing clear in his voice.

You turn over so you’re facing him. “I think I’d rather unwrap this present first.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groans. But, he pulls you against him all the same, clearly not opposed. 

Once you’re both showered again and dressed, you pad downstairs and straight into the kitchen to find Jihoon is already at the counter getting the coffee going. He looks so cute with his messy, wet hair, that you can’t help yourself. You have to come up and hug him from behind. Place a kiss between his shoulder blades and then rest your head. All he can do is just put a hand over yours. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” you ask when you pull away. 

“The cinnamon rolls you insisted we had to have,” he says like it’s obvious.

By the time you get those in the oven, he’s handing you a perfect cup of coffee, exactly the way you like it. It feels like neither of you can be physically separated. Hands finding each other as you move around the kitchen. Little kisses as you pass by. Just drawn together like magnets. Once the cinnamon rolls come out, and you add the extra icing that you insisted on, the two of you head to the living room. 

You think you were supposed to text or call Jun when you open his present, but you’re a little stuck on opening the things Jihoon got you at the last minute. He insists that you go first and open your presents so that he can see your reaction. The first couple are silly, but thoughtful. Just little things that show he’s actually been paying attention to you much longer than you realized. Not that he had some kind of crush or anything, just that he pays attention when people talk. When you think you’re done, he pulls out a small box. 

“I wanted you to open this last,” he says in response to your confused look. 

It’s a small box, very nicely wrapped. You open it to find a beautiful necklace, simple and stunning. Exactly the kind of thing you like to wear. But, exactly the type of thing you can’t accept. “JIhoon, it’s beautiful. But, you must know it’s too much. I can’t take this.” 

“I didn’t spend anything on it,” he assures you and slides closer so he can look down at it in the box. “It was my grandmother’s. And before you say you can’t take it again, she’d want someone to have it. She wanted to pass her jewelry on, but was so sick of our family. I think she’d really like you, so I want you to have it.”

“Thank you,” you say softly and lean forward to kiss him. 

Watching Jihoon open the little things that you got him is everything you hoped it would be. He’s so appreciative of each thing, even if they seem small to you. They’re all things he says he really needs. To him, that’s one of the best kinds of gifts because it shows that you’re listening. It shows that you want to make someone else’s life just a little easier. It nearly makes you emotional when he’s the one opening things. 

You want to stay curled up on the couch with Jihoon forever, watching stupid Christmas movies and invading his personal space. He grumbles a little at you clinging to him, but pouts the second you pull away. Sadly, you have to get up to start some of the cooking for Christmas dinner. Jihoon offers to help, knows you’re feeling a little sore, and you wave him off. Cooking at Christmas is one of your favorite things. You get your music going and don’t even register anything else. You don’t hear his footsteps or his voice talking to someone.

“Hey, Ji? Do you think I should make all the rolls? Probably, right?” you ask and turn around to see he’s standing in the doorway holding his phone up.

“Did my bestie just call you Ji?” a voice asks from the phone. 

“Uh, yeah,” Jihoon answers and closes the distance to you. He hands over the phone. “Jun was looking for you.”

“Oh, hi, Junie! How’s your parents’?” you ask. His eyes scan you and you look down too late. You’re not wearing your shirt, it’s one of Jihoon’s that you stole because it was more comfortable.

“Not as good as it is there, apparently,” Jun says with a giggle. 

“Oh, well, you see…” you start and Jun is cackling. 

“I’ll let you get back to cooking, but expect to have a long conversation when I’m home,” he says once he stops laughing.

“You sound like my parent,” you whine. 

“Just try and tell me there’s nothing to talk about,” Jun challenges and you look over at Jihoon sitting at the kitchen table. 

“I can’t,” you say, still looking at him.

“I knew it,” Jun says, triumphant. “Give the phone back to Ji…”

“You don’t get to call me that,” Jihoon chimes in.

“So much to talk about,” Jun repeats as you hand the phone back over. 

The rest of the afternoon passes too quickly. Jihoon stays in the kitchen with you when you have to cook and lounges on the couch with you watching movies when you’re waiting for things to finish. He helps wherever he can and genuinely seems to appreciate the effort that you’re taking. Well, he appreciates it almost as much as the dinner itself when you sit down to eat. Without question, it’s the best Christmas you can remember. It turns out that maybe you were right all along. Christmas wasn’t about presents or specific people or anything. It was about feeling joy and thankful and just a deep connection with whoever you were with. It makes you realize you do need to talk to Jihoon, though. 

After dinner, the two of you settle back on the couch with a glass of wine. His free hand traces patterns into your legs that are across his lap. “Hey, so about what Jun said…” 

“Jun is an idiot,” Jihoon brushes off.

“He is, but he also has a point. There’a a lot to talk about,” you say. He turns his head to look at you.

“I meant what I said last night, I’ll take whatever you want to give me,” he says and takes another sip of wine. 

“But, that’s so…I don’t know,” you start, searching for the words. 

He just shrugs like you’re talking about something so simple. Maybe you are. “I’m pretty open about things when I’m comfortable. I’m also kind of an all in or all out guy. I don’t know, that’s probably too much. I’m happy with whatever you’re comfortable giving me.” 

“You’re going to make me fall for you, Lee Jihoon,” you tease lightly. You’re also testing a little bit.

He smiles at you, that soft one that makes his eyes crinkle. “That doesn’t sound so bad to me.” 

“I guess it doesn’t,” you agree. 

“Thank you for being the best thing about Christmas in a long time,” he says. So honest. It’s so simple, too. 

“It’s been perfect,” you agree. “The only thing that could make it better is…”

“Snow,” he interrupts.

“Yeah,” you agree.

He shakes his head and points to the window. “No, it’s snowing.” 

You turn your head to follow his finger and see he’s right. Snow falls in light, beautiful swirls just outside the window. You can’t remember the last white Christmas you had, even living somewhere it snows. 

“Wow, this really is the perfect Christmas,” you whisper. 

i hope you liked it. please reblog or leave a comment to let me know your thoughts 💕

#woozi smut #jihoon smut #woozi x reader #jihoon x reader #kvanity #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #woozi fluff #jihoon scenarios #jihoon imagines #jihoon fluff #woozi fanfic #jihoon fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #woozi x you #jihoon x you #seventeen x you #svthub #ksmutsociety

[loresona]

My Love Mine All Mine

Inspired by that one Mitski song, obviously. Just under 1k words of mushy loveliness, silly pirate doctor has me in a chokehold.

law x fem reader, somewhat smutty

His skin sticks to yours like warm sugar, entirely too much of a feeling as his thrusts grow deeper and then still all at once. His breath is hot and heavy against the shell of your ear, whimpers and groans dancing across the baby hairs on the edge of your hairline, a shaky hand smoothing all the way up from your thigh to your breasts, an affectionate squeeze where he deems necessary. There’s a distinct ache between your thighs but it’s not the worst feeling in the world, you think to yourself, feeling warm and full even after he’s slipped himself out of you, hands tenderly manipulating your legs off his shoulders.

You sink, boneless, into the mattress, like a stone through water as you feel the springs and sheets shift around you as he gets up and slinks off somewhere for something. You don’t pay it much mind, not until a small draft dances across your bare stomach and you mumble for him needily, childishly. He somehow hears you from the bathroom and saunters back in with an amused but soothing “I’m coming don’t worry, I’m here” and then the mattress shifts again, and your view of the ceiling is interrupted by shaggy black hair, pale sharp eyes, a crooked grin. Gold earrings catch the light of the lampshade and twinkle just at the crook of his jawline like orb-like fairies, dancing in and out of your vision as he moves until he’s leaning over you on one arm, the other holding a warm cloth.

Said fabric finds its way between your legs and you hiss at the contact, grumbles that turn into almost-purrs when a free hand strokes through your hair softly, a pair of lips kissing and mumbling against your temple. He’s unusually amusable after sex, almost silly. “You come here often?” paired with a flash of teeth and dimples as his hands clean you up, whipping a storm of red onto your cheeks as you push at his chest with a hand half-heartedly. He giggles, giggles, but relents, tossing the cloth over his shoulder and replacing it with a cool glass of water, forever the caretaker. “At least half please, then I’m all yours”.

You do as he says, because how could you not, with his imperfect-perfect skin and his tattoos and his smile that’s as rare as rubies, and he rewards you with a gentle peck on the lips as he sets the glass on the side and nestles amongst the covers, dragging you down willingly with him. You start off with your back against his chest, arms looped around your middle as small, lingering kisses are planted along your shoulder, your arm, your neck. The praise, God. “You doing okay?” “You did so good” “So perfect” “All mine”. You could get off from his voice alone. The thought enters your mind, and you press your behind against him, feeling him tense and huff a laugh / groan against your neck. “There’s no way either of us are making it through round two” his voice is scratchy, deep and it only eggs you on, but before he can be convinced, he cuts the temptation off at the source and flips you so you’re chest to chest, an amused frown on his face as he kisses you all over before shoving your face against his collarbone. “Sleep, before you kill me off”.

No one would’ve believed it if they saw it: the Surgeon of Death, ex-warlord and member of the worst generation, cradling a woman in his arms so gently it was as if she was made of glass. Murmuring ludicrously romantic things against and into crevices of skin, a smile on his face so content you’d think him the luckiest man alive.

-loresona

update: I posted this on my ao3 as well, under the same username loresona! and added a little bit of extra ending to it for funsies <3

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law one piece #law x reader #writers on tumblr #one shot #drabble #smut #fluff #anime

[m3hgumi]

— when you have period cramps

a/n: me at any minor inconvenience: omg more content 😍😍 cramps are hurting so bad and i was thinking about them … ooo the voices THE FUCKING VOICES

i’ll also be splitting the hcs into two parts with other characters so it’s easier to post

pairings: itadori yuji x f!reader, fushiguro megumi x f!reader, gojo satoru x f!reader

genres: fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: 853

itadori yuji

baby was so scared and terrified and confused at first

he’s never had to deal with something like this before, having no female family members or relatives

so to say the least he was stumped

you tried to brush it off saying you were okay and the pain would pass until another wave of sharp stabbing pain hit your side

that’s when you told him to get the pain killers cause this was gonna be a Very Long Week

once you explained to him the horrors of being a woman with a functioning uterus, he didn’t hesitate to grab (steal) a heating pad from nobara’s room (which almost led to disaster, thankfully you had stepped in and no damage was done)

he hates seeing you in pain and tries so hard to make sure you’re comfortable

he’ll have you laying your head in his lap, sprawling the rest of you body on the sofa or bed of your dorm, and ruffle your hair as the two of you watch your favorite show or movie

when you’re napping, he’ll try to cook you something to keep your energy up and endure the pain

i bet he tries to look up recipes for meals that help with period cramps

and tries to cook them for you 🥹

even if he’s not the greatest cook, you appreciate those meals better than any craving you’ve had for the rest of the week

megumi fushiguro

he’s gone through this many times with tsumiki before so he knows exactly what to do

prepare a heating pad, stock up on pain meds, get her usual cravings and everything would be fine

though her cramps weren’t as painful (or so he thought, she just hid how painful they were from him) as he found yours to be, so he had to do a little bit more to help you alleviate the pain

including routine cuddles, plenty of kisses, many many blankets, and the occasional peace and quiet for your naps

he has your period tracker synced to his phone so he knows in advance when to stock up on any supplies you’ll need to get through the hellish time of shark week

he’d cancel any plans he may have had with nobara and yuji to stay with you (mad respect 🙏)

he’ll also summon his demon dogs for emotional support, even if it’s not allowed in the dorms (he’s such a real one 😭☝️)

he also has his phone notifications off so all of his attention is focused on getting you through this hellish week (ok but mans needs to catch a break too)

he’ll let you play with his hair as a distraction from the pain

if you ask for cuddles his face will get super red but he’ll oblige after

eventually he’d stop you from consuming all of chocolate and chips that is your cravings and get you to eat an actual meal

he won’t mind if you start complaining or yelling at him about something insignificant (like the temperature in the room being too low) because he knows it’s just the pain talking

instead he’ll pull you even further to his touch, soothing you and hopefully getting your mind farther away from your uterus twisting itself

gojo satoru

for ONCE his sweets stash under his bed is finally useful for someone other than him 🔥

i can imagine teen gojo first seeing you in pain and laughing (geto probably smacked him real good after that)

“wowww women have it SOOO hard 🙄” “OF COURSE YOU WOULDNT KNOW YOU ASSH-“

he has everything stocked up and ready for that time of the month: from pads to heating pads to pain meds (lots of them) and most importantly SO MANY SWEETS

he definitely uses this time of the month as an excuse to go out and buy an exorbitant amount of candy that will most definitely leave the two of you with diabetes

he’ll also bail out on any meetings or missions (except the ones with his students, he can’t leave them) so he could stay with you

if for any reason he can’t be physically be there, he’ll be on speed dial or he’ll get nanami or shoko to keep you company

you tell him not to worry and don’t bother staying since the pain will pass on its own and isn’t really anything to worry about, but he insists anyways

when he’s not busy he’s either cuddling you or having you wrapped around his arms, passing the time by watching his shitty collection of movies or any of your favorite shows

he’s definitely gonna feed you the giant chocolate cake he bought from the bakery down the street (and feed himself some ofc)

since gojo is just a giant pillow anyways, falling asleep on him isn’t much of a problem, even if your insides are attacking you with the worst pain ever

i’ve mentioned this in hcs before but he ABSOLUTELY has a whole album of pics where you’re sleeping on his shoulder or lap, cuddles are not excluded

(ok this is getting too long i should stop)

#jjk #jjk fandom #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #fushiguro megumi #itadori yuji #gojo satoru #fushiguro megumi x reader #itadori yuji x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #fushiguro x reader #itadori x reader #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk x you #fushiguro megumi headcanons #gojo headcanons #itadori headcanons

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Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer NSFW Profile

Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, non/dub-con, manipulation, I know I might break some hearts but I actually think Chrollo is very vanilla, loud sex, begging, h*nd holding, voyeurism, exhibitionism, unethical usage of a copying nen ability, masturbation, stalking, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy! 

HABITS:

Generally speaking, sex hasn’t been a huge part of Chrollo’s life. Of course, being a man with charisma and questionable goals, he’s had his fair share of partners to woo and use for information, sneakily extracting names and facts from them as he kisses and touches them, a husky, whispered question of and where might those gemstones be exactly against his temporary lover’s lips seeming strangely erotic, though the intent is anything but.

He’s never really viewed sex as something meaningful; rather, it’s simply a tool, a means to an end for whatever it is that he wants to steal next, and thus it’s never been much of a concern. Why should it be, when Chrollo finds connections and genuine human interaction something of a chore, unless it’s towards his own Troupe members?

Sex is a means to an end, and while there’s something strangely alluring about the idea of having sex for pleasure, he’s not one to simply go out and find a hookup to relieve himself. He likes to think he’s more refined than that – besides, while he isn’t especially wearing of intimacy or touching others, he doesn’t want to touch anyone he isn’t at least needing to, for some job or another. Casual sex just isn’t his thing.

Of course, then you come along, and just with everything else in his life, you’re to blame for his sudden change in opinion, his sudden changing belief that maybe, just maybe, sexual desire and intimacy has more of a purpose than he originally believed.

It’s not instantaneous, his desires to be touching you and making you moan so prettily and feel your skin against his. He doesn’t see you and immediately imagine bending you over and fucking you until you’re sweating and panting and spent. He doesn’t immediately imagine spreading your legs and getting you gripping at his hair, your pretty slick smeared all over his lips.

It’s not immediate, but rather a culmination of his obsession with you deepening over time. It takes him a long time to develop his feelings for you, and even longer to make sense of them – he’s not particularly hostile towards them, but it takes a while for his obsession to fully set in, for him to realize that he wants you in a romantic, genuine way. It will be a solid few weeks after his obsession form for him to get to the point where he’s fantasizing not only about the way you’d smile at him and softly sigh as he reads passages of his favorite gothic poems to you, but also about the way you’d quote certain stanzas as you kiss his neck, run your fingernails against his back, tug at his hair and keen his name.

It’s slow going, and to be honest Chrollo doesn’t even really notice that it’s happening until he’s suddenly so pent up that he just can’t take it, his hand itching to reach down and quell the dull throbbing coming from between his legs.

He’s never been one to masturbate much, the act seeming tiresome and without little reward, and as a result he’s more curious than anything that you’ve managed to inspire within him such primal urges, animalistic desires to see you stuffed full of his cock, cum leaking from your spent, sore pussy, your eyes dazed and hazy as he kisses you breathlessly.

He’s impressed, more than anything, but Chrollo isn’t too surprised once he thinks about it – you’re something of a breath of fresh air to him, someone real and interesting and oh so intriguing, so why wouldn’t he want to fuck you until you’re crying?

Why wouldn’t he want to map every inch of your skin out with his lips, feel your muscles clench and stiffen up under his fingertips?

He’s mildly surprised by your ability to essentially get him horny, and while it doesn’t happen too often (maybe two or three times per week), it’s still sizeable – and so is the amount of time that he begins spending in the company of a candle, a novel, and symphonic music in the background, blending in with the airy gasps and groans of the evening. 

When it comes to actually touching himself, Chrollo has a bit of a dirty secret; his nen ability (and its extensions, of course) comes in handy to the extreme in a lot of ways regarding you, but as soon as his more sexual desires towards you begin emerging, he’s suddenly so grateful for the sheer amount of nen abilities that he’s accumulated over the years.

That is, he’s particularly grateful for a certain one he picked up towards the beginning of the Phantom Troupe’s existence: an ability allowing partial recreation of an individual’s body parts, up to the whim of the wielder.

Guilt has never been something he’s given too much thought to, and so as he lights the few candles surrounding his place at the edge of the queen sized bed he's used the last few evenings, he merely closes his eyes and smiles, the aroma of a blissful, peaceful evening settling around him, the feeling of moonlight hitting his pale features and the crackling of the flames relaxing his body and preparing him for the next few events.

Chrollo is nothing if not a man of culture, and so as he carefully removes his jacket (folding it on top of the Victorian style chair in the corner of the room) along with his pants, he lets out a small sigh and grabs the book laying atop his nightstand, the golden cover with its black lettering making a small shiver run down his spine.

The book is, admittedly, a bit more graphic than his normal tastes, but there’s something about the way the narrator describes the female lead that makes his mind immediately shoot to you – something about the description of her hair, her body, her mannerisms, her everything, though Chrollo could say without a hint of hesitation that you were still better in every possible way. He’s read the novel dozens of times; it’s a classic, cliché love story of a dashing, mysterious man who swoons a sweet, traditional daughter of some nobleman, their romance dark and swift and taboo.

It reminds him a lot of his situation with you, really – he’s the handsome, dark man who comes and sweeps you off your feet, tempting you into leaving your good-girl, righteous persona and instead letting him taint you. Just the thought gets him throbbing, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and wills himself to calm down, to not ruin the ambiance he’s diligently set up for the night.

He flips to the marked section towards the middle of the book, the chapter detailing the night of passion and romance that ensues between the two characters. He’s quick to begin pouring over the words, and though he’s read this multiple page passage easily hundreds of times, the image still comes together in his head as if it’s fresh – the woman pinned below the man, the collar of her silky, white nightdress pushed down to just above her breasts, collarbone exposed along with her neck, half lidded eyes staring up at the lead while she gulps and breaths a bit raggedly.

Her wrists are beside her head, her whole body open and exposed for his future pleasure, and immediately he’s imagining you in a frilly, white nightgown, the material short and sheer and making you look angelic, like something for him to ruin.

Chrollo licks his lips, eyes still rapidly scanning the page as a hand snakes down to the slowly stiffening length resting against his thigh, the tip turning a deep shade of red, the trimmed forest of black hair standing out against the pale skin surrounding. A brush of his fingertips against the sensitive base has him exhaling slowly, the fantasy of the heroine’s knee slightly rising to brush against the lead’s clothed cock making a blush rise to the back of his neck, images of the way you’d bite your lip and whisper his name making him feel hot, every nerve on fire as the excitement and anticipation of pleasure – of you – rolls through him.

He knows the passage by heart, knowing every event taking place between what he pretends to be you and himself, his own imagination even filling in the details, imagining little additions to the plot that the book doesn’t even mention – you whispering his name and tracing the tattoo across his forehead, the feeling of your soft fingers against his skin making him groan ever so lightly. And with that thought in mind, he’s gently bookmarking and placing the book back on the stand, instead taking a deep breath, black eyes appraising his throbbing cock desperate for attention and stimulation, your attention and stimulation.

He spends a moment stroking himself, the pulls of his wrist languid and slow, just barely enough stimulation to feel good – hesitant, almost, like he imagines you being. Would you be nervous, the first time you see him naked? He likes to imagine you’ve never been with a man before (though he knows it’s likely untrue), or at least that you’ve never cared so much about pleasing one, about making him feel good and pleasured and satisfied.

(He decides you would be a bit anxious – your touches small, unsure, your pretty eyes always flicking back up to his, your soft lip caught between your teeth, your thumb just barely brushing over his tip and making him murmur your name with a slightly strained voice.)

He’s quick to pull up his book of nen abilities, flipping through the pages until he finds the correct one, the familiar black lettering describing the ability making him shiver in anticipation. It’s easy to conjure up the familiar image of your face in his mind, the corresponding physical image appearing before him immediately, and as he opens his previously closed eyes, he sucks in a sharp breath at the image of you, your lashes and cheeks and pretty eyes staring up at him.

It’s perfect – a complete replica of you, down to every last mole, hair, and scar decorating your face. It’s a bit disorienting to see a version of just your head and hair floating, your eyes gorgeous yet lifeless, muscles unable to move freely on their own, but Chrollo moves past it quickly – how can he not, when you’re right there, so pliable and beautiful and for his use?

He swallows harshly as his free hand comes down to lightly run over your strands of hair, the texture familiar and pleasing to the touch, and he watches with unblinking eyes as he slowly pushes your head down, further until your unfocused eyes are level with the now pulsing erection sitting between his legs.

He bites his lip as he recalls the words of the passage, the eloquent language not diminishing the meaning behind the words. She kneeled before him, a servant to her master, lips parted and eyes appraising him as if he were a work of art, the single most valuable thing to have graced her gaze.

He imagines the way you’d stare at him, your eyes raking over his sculpted chest, the ‘v’ of his navel, your tongue flicking out over your lips as you appraise the pale length of his cock, the soft, smooth set of balls attached.

He hopes you’d be impressed, but impatience gets the better of him as he once again moves your head further forward, so that his tip brushes against your lifeless lips.

They’re cold, a stark difference to what he’s sure is an inviting, riveting, and wet mouth you possess, but he’s in no position to complain – certainly not when he remembers how the woman swallows him as if he were the most divine, succulent meal, savoring his taste as if it were her last.

It’s difficult to recreate the scene with your unresponsive mouth, but he’s carefully pulling your lower jaw down, your lips parted and tongue lolling out as he slowly, ever so fucking slowly, pushes inside, the small groan fighting its way up his throat telling of how even your cold mouth can affect him.

He shivers, the sensation climbing up his spine, and his fingers gently scrape your scalp as he gets a good grip, his head lolling back slightly and his eyes closing as he begins moving your head up and down, up and down, your cold saliva coating his length as he sighs and whispers your name under his breath.

The music in the background is soft, romantic, orchestral and something Chrollo very much imagines fucking you to. He likes to imagine the way your moans and breaths would blend in with the melodies and crescendos – though, the sounds you’d make when he’s got you creaming all over his fingers and cock would drown out any sort of background music, he’s sure.

Once again musters up more aura, conjuring up a replica of your hand that he quickly intertwines with his own, his fingers joining yours in shakily holding up his nen book. The pace is slow, soft, the moment feeling sweet yet erotic, and as he opens his eyes and stares half liddedly down at your unseeing eyes and unresponsive mouth, Chrollo curses, a small l-love, you’re so beautiful…

His fingers tighten around your hair as he comes closer, the book’s scenes flashing through his eyes as he picks up the pace of his wrist, your head coming down over his throbbing, sensitive skin quicker, the sensation climbing and climbing as his breath steadily gets harsher, soft groans tumbling past his now puffy and overbitten lips, the light flush across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose almost endearing.

He’s fairly quiet, only the occasional deep groan or murmur of your name, and as he gets closer, his grip around your fingers tightens, his breathing getting more ragged and uneven. His complexion reddens, his skin shining with a light sheen of sweat, abs clenching and twitching as the pleasure grows stronger, more acute, the feeling of you and your spit and your soft skin only spurring on the twitching of his cock.

The music climbs to a crescendo, his eyes peeling open to see the way your lips suck him in again and again and again, his cock glistening with spit and his hips bucking to get even deeper inside you, the visual of him fucking your face just too much too much –

He’s coming with a strangled gasp of your name, dark eyes blowing wide as his hips start thrusting on their own, plunging forward and down your throat, untimed and uneven.

He imagines the way you’d gag, your throat tightening up and your pretty eyes dotting with tears as he shoots load after load of watery, semi-bitter cum down your throat, the thought only making his hips jerk harder, his body spurred forward by the motivation to get as much of his cum as deeply down your throat as possible, to claim you as his in the most carnal, natural way.

He’s panting by the time the feeling dies down, a few strands of his carefully gelled back hair loose and framing the pale skin of his forehead and the tattoo decorating it. Beads of sweat frame his temples, his chest heaving still, his nipples hard and pebbled in the cool air of the bedroom.

It takes a moment for him to slowly regain his composure, giving your floating facial replica a gentle, long kiss on the forehead, his eyes fluttering closed and eyebrows scrunching up as he kisses you harder, more fervently, more desperately, trying to express every ounce of love and appreciation and want he has for you, even if it’s merely a cold, carbon copy of you that he’s kissing.

Then, he’s shutting the book and watching you disappear, a cold, familiar sense of loneliness settling into his chest.

The music is still on in the background, lulling him into a relaxed state as he lays on his back, body nude while he thinks back to the way the novel describes the post-sex cuddling, soft touches and sweet, affectionate words, lulled promises of loving each other forever, claims of ownership and commitments to stay together.

He sighs softly, the faintest smile gracing his lips as he imagines the way he’d hold you, your sweaty bodies pressed against one another, cum seeping from your cunt as you clutch onto him, your hair tickling his chin and neck, your soft breaths as you drift into sleep, feeling safe and protected by him…

Occasionally, on nights where he feels particularly restless for you, where the stress of running a wanted criminal group begins to get to him, he’ll conjure up your full body, and while it’s cold, unresponsive and unable to speak or look at him, it’s enough. Cuddling you, kissing your freezing skin and running his fingers over your jawline, collarbone, your supple curves is enough to have him slowly drifting to sleep, secure in your arms and dreaming of the day when you’re finally there to enact the scenes of his romantic, smutty novels with him in person, just as you should be. 

(He’ll never actually fuck your nen-conjured self, however. He feels it would be crossing the line – as if fucking your mouth isn’t – and although it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as the real you, he wants your first time together to be special, to be a true exploration of each other’s bodies and genuine reactions. So, rest assured, he doesn’t use the fuck doll he makes of you as a stand in for actual sex – he’ll just use your hand, or your mouth, or your breasts, or your thighs. Never that perfect cunt between your legs, the one that makes his mouth water and his fingers twitch.)

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your Collarbone

In a lot of ways, Chrollo is a traditional man. Surely not with his profession, nor the company he keeps, and certainly not the way he feels for you – but still, some aspects of how he views intimacy are very classical.

That is, while he adores the sight of you in revealing, slutty clothing, with your tits nearly bursting out of the pathetic, stringy bralette and your pretty, puffy lips clearly visible through the sheer thong, there’s an appeal to the more sensual parts of your body that aren’t as oversexualized.

Specifically, Chrollo finds himself drawn to your chest – of course, your breasts are alluring and wonderful and fit in his hands so very perfectly, but his favorite spot of all is right above them.

The expanse of your collarbone is a sight that always manages to catch his eye, his dark gaze lingering on the symmetrical, pretty bones. He likes to trace them with his finger, his touch light and soft but insistent, running over the lines and pressing his thumb into the dip in the center.

It doesn’t matter if your collarbone is prominent or not – there’s just something about the intimacy of it all that makes him giddy, the fact that no one except him gets to feel this part of you making his possessiveness flare up and shivers race up his spine.

When he’s kissing you, his lips always find purchase there, traveling down your neck and the juncture of your shoulder, before settling heavily against your collarbone, soft lips pressing kisses and hickeys and biting against the skin.

When he’s pressed you up against the wall, his figure looming over you and his presence making you feel small and weak, he’ll leave a hand at the base of your throat, the heel of his palm pressing against your collarbone so that he can feel your pulse, feel the way you breath, feel you you you.

You’ll often wake up after nights of long, passionate fucking (love-making, he likes to say, though the way he loses control after his first orgasm and fucks you so hard it nearly hurts really only resembles an animal, not a man) with dark marks all over your collarbone, the entire area bruised and swollen and aching, a constant reminder of Chrollo’s presence.

When he kidnapped you, it was a very spur of the moment, rushed affair, and as a result you weren’t able to bring any of your own clothing – which means, outside of just roaming around naked (something that Chrollo certainly wouldn’t argue against), you’ll be left to dress with whatever he deems appropriate.

More often than not, that means shirts with very low necklines, off the shoulders, or with wide necks that show off your collarbone.

(It also means skirts and dresses, sheer tights or thin materials, things that show off your thighs and the curves of your legs – Chrollo’s second favorite spot on your body.)

You’ll catch him staring idly, his eyes hyperfocused on the area even when you’re speaking to him, and sometimes you can even actually see the way he zones out ever so slightly, an internal war taking place inside him because he wants to hear what you’re saying and watch your lips as you speak to him, but he just can’t stop staring at where he’d left a large, prominent hickey on the right side of your collarbone, feeling your pulse under his lips while he made you cream and squeeze and come all over his fingers, just for him.

He thinks you’re beautiful, and even if you aren’t, Chrollo finds your body to be elegant, truly a work of art, and your collarbone is the crowning jewel of said art.

So don’t be surprised when he’s forcing you to wear chokers and tight necklaces, the combination of the jewelry and the sleeveless top leaving the expanse between them open and vulnerable, perfect to suck on and kiss.

He’s just in love, and is it so wrong to find your body perfect, wonderful, so damn alluring that it drives him insane?

His fingers

From the moment his sexual urges towards you begin, his fantasies tend to revolve mostly around using his hands to please you.

Of course, he likes the idea of using his mouth on you or stuffing you full of his cock, and those fantasies are most definitely present, too.

(As are the ones where you’re pleasing him – he has to be careful with these fantasies, though, because if he’s in public, any thought of you dropping to your knees for him or pressing your pretty tits together and moving them up and down his cock gets him hard immediately, his orgasm already halfway there from just the thought of you wanting him to feel good.)

The majority of what he imagines in detail is really just him working at your body with his hands. They aren’t too terribly veiny, but they’re the perfect amount, just enough to get your gaze lingering on them, and seeing the way the tendons and muscles flex when he moves will make your throat feel dry.

Even the way his hands are connected to his forearms, veins dancing up the expanse of his pale arms can get you staring, embarrassment making your neck feel hot when he catches your gaping with a knowing look, that prideful, cocky smirk on his face making you feel hot in anger and a bit of excitement.

(He’s noticed your staring, and makes it a point to roll up the sleeves of his shirts to expose his wrists and forearms, even purposefully flexing the muscles when he sees your eyes on them, his own gaze eagerly examining your face for even a hint of awe, or attraction, or enjoyment.)

But the real draw of his hands are his fingers; they’re pale, nimble and surprisingly smooth, given his past and occupation, and they’re long. They’re always cold, the feeling making you shiver, and Chrollo has them pressed against you as often as possible.

He’s touchy, really, and while this often manifests as his hand sitting on the small of your back or your shoulder or brushing against your cheek, this habit certainly doesn’t change in the context of intimacy and sex.

When he’s got you underneath him, staring up at him with wide eyes and your lips all swollen and bruised from his harsh kisses, he’s immediately touching you, his hands coming up to rip off the shirt he’d picked out for you this morning, tearing the flouncy skirt he’d helped zip you into cleanly in half in his desperation.

He can’t control himself, really – he’s gripping at your thighs and the fat of your stomach, squeezing and kneading and wanting, and while that entertains him for a while, eventually he’ll be nudging your legs apart, fingers immediately tracing up the insides of your thigh, tickling you and making you suck in a breath as he gets closer and closer to where you need him. (Or, at least, where he thinks you need him.

He’s convinced he knows your body better than you do, though, so any amount of denying this claim will result in that same, familiar patronizing smile and a soft murmur of it’s okay, darling, your body says what your mind won’t.)

He likes to tease you, even though it ends up teasing him too, by pressing feather-light touches against your folds and sensitive clit, dark eyes flicking between your cunt and your face, eagerly taking in every expression and sound you give him.

He’ll ask you if you want more, for you articulate what you want, all because he needs to hear you say please Chrollo, I need your fingers inside, I want to feel you fuck me with your fingers! Eventually, though, his patience will snap, and he’ll push them inside, listening to your little gasps and moans as he immediately curls them, rubbing and pressing against the spots he knows make you moan and writhe.

He’s unfairly good with his fingers – he’s got the pacing and motions down perfectly, his stamina high enough to keep going throughout the entire night.

He’s always got a finger steadily working at your clit, rubbing slow, firm circles against the sensitive area until you’re coming for him, and while a lot of his desire to make you feel good genuinely comes from the place of wanting to please you, a lot of it is selfish, too.

By constantly stimulating your clit or loosening you up with his fingers, he’s making sure you’ll enjoy him, that when he’s fucking you and stuffing you with his cum, you’re wet enough and receptive enough, and god, the feeling of you coming on his cock, the constant pressure against your clit tipping you over the edge?

Well, don’t blame him when he’s gasping into your ear, a strangled sort of noise that almost sounds like your name, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you, before you feel warmth spilling into you, his black hair tickling your cheeks as he rests his face in the crook of your neck.

DRIVE:

In general, Chrollo’s libido isn’t the highest. Obviously, he desires you sexually and loves to kiss you, touch you, fuck you, make you scream his name and clutch onto him like you’ll otherwise die, but he doesn’t need to be in bed with you at all times. He doesn’t have to be making you cream and stuffing you full of his cock, fingers and cum every day.

(Every other day is ideal, or – if he’s particularly stressed or busy – maybe every two days, but that’s pushing it.)

No, Chrollo isn’t that sexually driven – though, he is that clingy, even if he’s good at not showing it. In general, there’s something about you that makes Chrollo feel, and he’s found that any sort of physical contact brings this strange, fluttering emotion in his chest, one he’s fairly sure is love – which ultimately results in the conclusion that in order to feel good, wanted, loved, touching you is something that he must do often.

The reality is that he’s never really had a partner, someone to give and receive genuine love and affection with, and the moment that he realizes how wonderful a hug can feel or how good of an experience simply locking pinkies can be, he’s hooked. Suddenly, those cliché, overt couple actions that used to intrigue him in a clinical way are much, much more interesting, the idea of wrapping his arms around your waist enticing in a way he can’t quite describe.

From pretty much the beginning of your time as his captive, Chrollo will be forcing affection onto you. It’s little things, mostly – things that make your skin crawl because they’re so innocent and sweet and pure that it makes you sick.

He’ll gently intertwine your hands with his, staring down and marveling at the sight of your fingers wrapped around his own, your smaller hand looking perfect against his.

He’ll press a kiss to your cheek or forehead after he compliments you (though, the compliments are always a bit strange – slightly threatening, or too specific, or just weird).  

Of course, while this affection and surplus of physical contact is generally innocent, slowly Chrollo’s tastes and urges begin to change slightly, going from wholesome, sweet acts to more questionable touches, actions that have you slightly cocking a brow, slightly not comfortable with the implications of his behavior.

Because really, while you’ll likely be just fine with him lacing his fingers with yours (though, it’s likely that you’ll be less happy with it and more just complacent, figuring that with his criminal status and abilities, there’s far worse he could do to you), things will get a bit complicated when his hands start resting at your waist, dipping ever so slightly lower to your hip, his fingers pressing just a bit tighter against your skin than you’re comfortable with.

What starts out with a mostly tolerable chaste kiss to the cheek will turn into his lips against yours, his tongue running along your lower lip, a small groan tumbling into your mouth as he forces his tongue inside, running it along your teeth and coaxing your own tongue to participate.

What begins as a simple pair of hands resting against your shoulders will become him running them down the length of your sides, thumbs pressing circles against the area right underneath your breasts, those dark eyes seeming to shine with something that makes your breath hitch.

Because really, while Chrollo does absolutely bask in the innocent affection he can garner from you, there’s just something about you that makes his more natural urges kick into gear, the area between his legs feeling warmer, more insistent, more desperate the more he kisses you, the more he holds you and whispers to you that he loves you so much my dear, won’t you let me show you the extent of my feelings? 

However, Chrollo is a smart man – when it comes to actually having sex or any sort of intimacy on the same level with you, he’s willing to be patient.

He doesn’t want to force you into anything, to make you uncomfortable or dislike him, to reverse any progress he’s made in getting you to fall utterly, completely in love with him, so he steels himself, mentally reminding himself every time he sees your plush thighs that he must wait.

He’ll chastise himself for almost losing control when you stretch, the sliver of exposed skin of your stomach and your cute little grunt nearly making him throw caution to the wind.

He has remarkable self control, and while you likely won’t know it, you’ll be seeing it in action nearly every moment he’s around you, especially when you’re already doing something affectionate, like hugging or sitting in his lap.

(He’s the one that’s forced you into these things, of course, but it doesn’t matter – if you make any sort of movement that isn’t prying him off or swatting his hands away, Chrollo considers you as being willing, happy, enjoying touching him, and the thought makes this pleasant, warm feeling bloom in his chest.)

He’s working incredibly hard to not push too far, but after some time of you not seeming to come around, not voicing any desire to go further, Chrollo decides he must resort to certain measures in order to speed up your progress.

Thus, he begins subtly trying to plant the idea in your mind, trying to tempt you into admitting that yes, you want him to reach underneath the frilly, white shirt he provided to you and cup your breasts, to roll your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, to feel you shiver and hear you sigh against his lips.

He wants to lay seeds in your mind so that you’ll come to the conclusion sooner that you want him to rest between your legs and use that talented, smooth talking mouth to make you talk, to hear you babble and cry out his name.

He’s talented at being discreet, and so as he moves his hands to rest closer to your ass, squeezing the plush of your thighs, leaving fluttering kisses against your neck, he’s hoping you’ll slowly come to the conclusion on your own, your own body and desires betraying you.

And quite honestly, while you’ll likely be uncomfortable at first, confused and a bit scared, eventually it’ll work – after all, charisma is something Chrollo possesses in mass quantities, and while you’re obviously not happy that you’ve been kidnapped, that the leader of a mass group of international criminals is holding you in his lap and nuzzling against your mouth, whispering to you that you’re so lovely, won’t you say my name darling, it’s difficult to not let the ideas form, the lack of human contact forcing you to imagine paths you rationally have no desire to.

It’ll make you feel dirty, like you’re betraying yourself and letting Chrollo win, but he’ll ultimately get exactly what he wants – he’s observant to a tee, and so once he notices the way you start clenching your thighs together ever so slightly as he tells you that he’d love to take care of you tonight, he’s inwardly smiling, pride swimming in his chest because finally,  finally you’re beginning to be affected by the subtle touches and words, things that could leave you second guessing, the possibility that maybe he wants to go further unrelenting in that sweet little head of yours.

And so, as he begins probing you, asking you how you’re feeling, if you’re satisfied, if you’re feeling like I give you everything you desire, he’s waiting with baited breath for you to embarrassedly admit that you want more, that you want something only Chrollo can give to you.

He’ll goat you into admitting it, telling you to be more specific, to tell him exactly what you want, because otherwise he won’t know, and then he can’t improve, now can he?

He’s calculating, smart, analytical and damn good at getting what he wants, and so ultimately you’ll cave, admitting that you want him to fuck me please, I just – just please…

He won’t outwardly be affected, but just know that the speed with which his erection makes itself known is directly tied to you, the eagerness of his body and his movements to undress you betraying him.  

And as he starts breathing a little heavier, stripping you of your clothing and his as well, it becomes hard to miss the way he’s eager, anxious, frantic to touch you.

You’ll see the signs of months of repressed sexual tension, months of desiring you but needing you to consent first, even as pressured as your admittance may be.

But in the end, does it matter?

Because when Chrollo’s hovering over you, those dark eyes fixed on your face with an intensity that’ll make you shiver, you’ll feel oh so taken care of, the small signs and subtle pushes making you insatiable for something you didn’t even know you desired. 

And Chrollo will be happy to keep providing for you – what kind of lover would he be if he didn’t? Besides, no one else canmake you feel like he does – not even you – he’ll make sure of it.

You only need him.

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Loud Sex

Generally speaking, Chrollo is a quiet man. He’s polite and personable, yes, but he doesn’t bother with unnecessary chatter – when he speaks it’s purposeful, calculated, commanding, and this is true even when it comes to you.

 You make him feel the closest he’s ever felt to being nervous, but he’s still not especially loud around you. He never shuts up, that’s true, always asking you questions and telling you about his day, about a flower that reminds him of you (a petal or two was missing, making him think of how you aren’t truly complete unless he’s with you), or even, on rare occasions, telling you a reason why he’s in love with you.

(It’s not as romantic as it sounds – the way he speaks about romance is too clinical, and the reasons he’ll give you are far too specific and detailed to really make you feel good.)

So yes, he speaks often, but he’s not loud.

And during sex, this stays true – the most you’ll get out of him is a low groan and a few heavy, drawn out sighs, or a few chants of your name when he’s getting close and he’s particularly pent up. He’s still not quiet though – he’s talking the whole time, dirty talk spilling from his lips about how you’re so beautiful, especially when you’re falling apart around my cock or that he loves when you moan, can you feel how I’m throbbing inside of you? It’s all for you, does it feel good to know you’re affecting me like this?

His voice is always sultry, always whispered directly into your ear, and while his particular brand of dirty talk is, more or less, mediocre (it’s always too long and makes you think too much; you’d prefer something shorter, something more explicit, something coming from anyone aside from him), Chrollo likes the concept of sex not being quiet. Specifically, he likes when you fill in the silence.

There’s something about the noises you make that make him absolutely feral – similarly to his curiosity about you in everyday life, he wants to understand you sexually. He wants to hear every sound you have to offer – he needs to understand what’s causing you to make that noise and how to keep you making it. He needs to hear every little thing, to have a mental catalogue of the different noises and cries he can pull from your pliable body.

It doesn’t matter if you’re naturally loud or quiet – he will be expecting you to put on a show for him, your body a canvas for him to create a masterpiece on, your every gasp, moan, and sigh a paint stroke that eventually comes together to form you, a piece of art Chrollo wants to keep stolen away from the world forever.

He’s not particularly shy about this desire of his, either – it’s very easy to tell that he’s striving to get you to moan for him, because you’ll feel his fingers work in that certain way, grinding and rubbing in that particular spot, those dark eyes wavering in excitement because he absolutely loves the way you sound gasping his name.

You can tell he’s aiming to get you vocal when he’s pressing his face between your legs, dark hairs tickling your thighs as he diligently works his tongue against your clit, the sensation partnered with the insistent thrusting of his fingers inside you not stopping until you groan his name, and then only getting harder, that same motion being repeated over and over because he needs to hear it again.

He’s like an addict, really – once he hears a noise he finds pleasant (every noise you make, really), he’s trying everything in his power to get you to make it again, wanting to have auditory evidence (to match the slick coating his fingers and the smell of your arousal) that you’re enjoying this, that you’re enjoying him and the way he’s touching you. It’s selfish, really, because while giving you pleasure is great and brings you a step closer to desiring him as he desires you, it quells his possessiveness.

It makes him feel good because it’s proof that he’s affecting you, that the motions and pleasure his body is bringing you is making you feel good, that your brain is mush because of him. It’s proof that your thighs are trembling and shaking because of the way he’s massaging and toying with your clit.

It’s proof that your lips are swollen and puffy and parted because of the way he’s kissing your neck and kneading at your breasts. It’s proof that he’s the only one on your mind, that your every thought is revolving around him him him, that your body and brain can only focus on Chrollo alone.

It makes him feel good, knowing that no other man could possibly be in your thoughts in moments like these, and the more he can get you moaning and screaming and sobbing in pleasure, the higher the likelihood of you focusing solely on him. So really, any time the two of you are intimate, expect your voice to be hoarse the next day – he needs you to be making noise, and he’ll even tell you as much.

He’ll tell you to show me how badly you need me inside you, moan my name and cream on my fingers and I might consider adhering to your wishes.

He’ll tell you to say his name, to tell him that he feels good, and even to narrate exactly what you’re feeling.

(That last one is a favorite of his – it’s so dirty, and it fills him with pride and arousal to hear you say that he feels s’good, your fingers are so big and it’s making me feel so full and good and fuck, Chrollo, please let me come!)

It’s an obsession, truly, one that rivals the one he holds for you – so really, just give him what he wants.

Fake the moans (but be careful, because he can normally tell – though, as he gets closer to his own orgasm, his façade slips and the true lustful, crazed man underneath his carefully constructed exterior rears its head, his snapping hips and messy hair evidence of just how much you affect him. He’s less able to tell apart your fake moans from real ones in these moments, and when he’s right on the edge, any noise from you will have him toppling over, gripping onto you and coming, filling you so fully that it leaks out, white spilling all over your thighs and dripping down his balls.)

He just wants you to be vocal, and it’s in your best interest to meet his demands – the night will be long and very, very painful if you don’t; Chrollo knows your body well enough to overstimulate you past your threshold, the pleasure melting into pain with each orgasm he tears from your body.

Begging

While Chrollo is a difficult man to decipher, one thing you’ll learn about him is that he’s very, very susceptible to your begging.

Of course, he doesn’t always give in to what you want – your escape and freedom, for example, are things he’ll never grant you, no matter how incessantly and long you beg. (And no matter how you offer your body or your fake affections or any number of things.)

He’s stringent about many things, but in the bedroom he’s more or less easy to win over – you just have to know how to do it correctly.

It takes a very specific methodology to get him to listen to your wishes, to have him do exactly what you need in order to feel good. And that methodology is mostly rooted in begging him to do what you want, what you need in order to seek the pleasure you’re wanting.

And frankly, just hearing you say his name and beg him for literally anything has his hips stuttering, arousal spiking through him because god, you must really want him, huh?

There’s something so riveting and right about the power imbalance that you begging him for pleasure sets up; he’s the one in control, giving you what he deems as the right amount of pleasure, controlling your orgasm and deciding when – and if – you’ll be allowed to come.

It’s a power trip that gets his heart racing and his cock flushing bright red, his chest swelling with pride and greed because god, every fucking inch of you belongs to him, and when you acknowledge that it makes him want to fuck you hard enough to make you scream his name.

You’ll need to beg, but even more than that, you’ll need to mix the begging with some sort of compliment. He’s good at telling when you’re lying, though, so the compliment must be somewhat genuine – tell him his fingers feel so good, oh Chrollo you’re gonna make me come, don’t stop! Tell him that he’s so big, you feel so – so big inside me, oh god, please harder, I need you harder!

If you intermix the compliments in with your begs, Chrollo is almost certain to at least consider your wishes, fucking you harder or deeper or angling his fingers just right, anything and everything to get you to keep talking, to keep paying attention to him and telling him how much you need him.

He may not show it, but he really, really wants you to enjoy sex with him, both because seeing you writhe in pleasure gives him pleasure, and also because it means you’re giving him all your focus and attention. So really, if things aren’t going quite as they should to really get you off or to make you feel good, using this master formula will often yield the results you desire – he’s a sap, even if he doesn’t show it, even if he’s not fully aware of it himself.

What he is aware of, though, is this little strategy of yours.

He’s figured it out; you’re not as smooth as you think, and although it boosts his ego and makes his heart race when you compliment him, Chrollo knows there’s an ulterior motive behind your words. And so begins a game of cat and mouse – he likes the way you beg for him, and he doesn’t want you to stop, so he’ll only slightly give in to your request.

This will, in turn, make you beg for more, a new compliment and moans slipping from your lips that get Chrollo gulping and steeling his resolve, his fingers moving slightly to the spot you want them, his pace getting slightly faster, only half-assedly doing what you’d begged for.

The cycle repeats, Chrollo managing to milk you for every last possible bit of praise and desperation for his touch, until he’s eventually giving in, doing things just as you ask for so that you’re a shaking, moaning mess for him, completely falling apart on his fingers. He’s aware of the game you’re playing, and frankly, as time passes Chrollo will begin purposefully not touching you like how he knows you like.

You like to be fingered quickly, with a certain angle and a certain rhythm? Well, he’s finger fucking you at a moderate pace, aiming for a certain spot an inch or so away from your sweet spot, the rhythm just slightly off.

It’ll be enough to get you squirming, your face scrunching up in pleasure and need, your eyes teary and watery as you beg him to go just a hair faster, because it always feels so good when you go fast, please make me feel good, Chrollo!

You’ll go through the cycle three or four times, but he’ll almost always eventually give in – with one big, glaring exception.

Chrollo really likes to bring you to orgasm, it’s true – however, he really, really likes when you beg for permission to orgasm, waiting to fully let go until he’s given you the okay to make a mess all for him.

He wants you to beg him to please let me come, please Chrollo I wanna come for you, all the while he’s holding off just a bit, not quite pushing you over the edge with his thrusts or flicks of his tongue.

He knows your body so well that he’s able to hold you right where he wants you, right on the brink of coming but not quite, just so that you’re unbearably close but needing that one final push. And he’ll milk this out of you, too – he’s unashamed with how he asks you to repeat yourself, to tell him exactly what you need, to moan his name and show him just how badly you want to come for him.

He wants you to be prickling with embarrassment at how unabashedly you shame, loving the way you get all shy and bashful when he tells you to beg me to fuck you into an orgasm, love, and then you’ll get it.

It makes him giddy to see the way you writhe and cry out his name so wantonly, your desperation to find your high trumping over any bit of self-respect you pretend to have, because ultimately you’re choosing him and the pleasure he can give you over this stupid, rebellious side of yourself that’s unwilling to accept his love.

It’s good, a step in the right direction, and by forcing you to beg him permission to orgasm (an orgasm caused by him, no less), Chrollo simultaneously gets to push you a smidge closer to willingly being his, and he also gets to feel you come for him.

(A sight that normally pushes him unbearably close to his own orgasm – just a few thrusts inside you and he’s blowing his load, cum spurting inside you as he gasps your name under his breath, the warmth settling into his stomach both a result of his orgasm and giddiness that you’re starting to come around, aren’t you?)

He just loves when you beg, and although you think you have the power in the situation, thinking you’ve got him figured out, you really, really don’t. You never do, after all, and Chrollo will always outsmart you.

So just tell him you want his cock, beg him to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow, and he’ll give you just that – not without a few caveats, though.

Oral Fixation

While your collarbone may be his favorite part of your body, Chrollo really, really grows to love your mouth.

He’s always been entranced by the gentle curve of your lips, the shape playing behind his eyelids as he sleeps at night, driving him crazy when you aren’t yet by his side, making sleep – already elusive enough for him – nearly impossible to find.

(You’ll never know, but on nights where he can’t stop thinking of your lovely lips and how soft and warm and bitable they’d be, he’ll begrudgingly turn to his pillow, his own pale pink lips pressing against the silk, his eyes fluttering closed as he presses hesitant kisses against the material. As he gets more comfortable, he’ll move towards using his tongue; letting it flick out against the pillowcase, imagining it’s actually pressing into your mouth, brushing against your own and coaxing it to rub against his, to suck, his own tongue running along your teeth and reaching deeper and deeper into you until there’s not an inch of space he hasn’t touched and licked and tasted -)

He’s thought endlessly of how you might taste; would your saliva be sweet, or perhaps a nice, neutral taste? He’ll lick his lips while he contemplates, unconsciously salivating himself as he imagines how you’d taste as he kisses you, your scent and feel and everything else about you overwhelming him and making him dizzy in the best possible way.

He’s thought of the way you’d place kisses against his skin, how soft your lips would feel against the hard planes of his chest, against the firm, defined muscles of his thighs, against his neck.

He’s spent many, many nights imagining the way your mouth and lips would worship his body; he imagines you’d start with his own lips, kissing him and moaning into his mouth with fervor, your tongue slipping out to meet his, saliva and spit getting all over your chins because every time he imagines kissing you it’s messy, sloppy and earnest and dirty.

He likes to think you’d move onto his jawline next, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the sharp line, tracing it from his chin all the way back to the juncture of his jaw, leading up to kiss and lightly suck at his ear.

You’d take his lobe gently between your teeth, lightly pulling and tugging just to hear him harshly exhale, your tongue even coming up to lick at the shell of his ear, your breath warm and sensual as you breath and whisper his name.

You’d move onto his neck, next, sucking kisses and hickies against the pale skin, the perfect canvas for you to leave your artwork against. He wants you to mark him up – he may be the dominant one in the relationship, sure, and he may the one indisputably in charge of everything, but there’s something endearing about wanting to stake your claim on him. It makes him feel good, desired, possessive over you, and he’ll proudly don his coat with the dark marks all along his neck, perhaps even pulling the collar to the side a bit so that others can see that he’s yours.

Then you’ll move down to his chest; he wants to feel you press fast, quick kisses all over the plain of his chest and abdomen, your tongue tracing the lines of his abs and making him shiver. He wants to feel your lips wrapped around his nipples, sucking and running your tongue over the sensitive skin, leaving a wet pop noise as you pull back.

He wants you to kiss along his thighs, the kisses here more harsh and demanding, maybe even sinking your teeth into his skin just to get his eyes rolling to the back of his head, your sudden display of dominance (or brattiness, rather) making something primal sound from the back of his throat.

And of course, Chrollo’s fixation with your mouth extends towards your ability to suck – before you two reach a point of sexual contact, he’ll firmly trace your lips with his fingertips, only to push past them and situate his fingers against your tongue, a small smile on his lips as he sighs softly and tells you to suck, my love, I’m sure you know how.

He’ll watch with wide eyes and baited breath as you work your tongue along his digits, slipping between them and letting your lips suction, the warmth and wetness making his pants tight and his cock ache, desperation nearly sending him over the edge as precum drools from his tip. And god, when you use your mouth on his cock?

Chrollo is a fairly composed man, yes, but even he can’t keep up that image when you’re sucking on him like you’re trying to suck out his soul, your lips gliding up and down his length, the suction and feel of your tongue rubbing against that sensitive spot on the underside of his tip making his abs clench and contract, his hips getting a mind of their own as they thrust and buck and hump.

He loves when you use your mouth on him, and although he tries to let you set the pace yourself and do things at your own leisure and speed (mostly because he likes seeing what you come up with, how you think he’ll be pleased), he’ll reach a point as he nears his orgasm where he takes over, his hands grasping onto your head and physically moving it up and down, controlling the depth and pace as he groans lowly, his orgasm powerful and heady and numbing as he comes, cum spilling down your throat as he holds you tightly against his pelvis, the short black hairs sitting at his navel ticking your nose.

Another spot that makes him melt when you lick and touch is his balls.

They’re always full, heavy, swollen, aching and begging to be fondled and licked and emptied, and what better way than with your soft, pretty lips and your nimble tongue? He likes to watch the way you stroke at his shaft and move your attention to each sack, tongue coming out to lick and tease, the sensation making him suck in a shaky breath – the sound so quiet you very nearly miss it.

He wants you to take on in your mouth, the warmth making his knees feel weak, the feeling of you lightly sucking making him have to clutch onto whatever surface is nearest just to steady himself.

It’s so dirty – seeing the way your lips stretch to accommodate something so big, and by the time you’re through with them he wants his balls to be positively smothered in your spit, glistening in the light and sensitive to the touch because you’ve worked him up so well.

Of course, Chrollo enjoys when you touch him in pretty much any way, but there’s just something about your mouth that he finds himself gravitating towards, because while it’s intimate and wonderful to fuck you, when you use your mouth – something that feels more taboo, more personal, more sacred – well, that’s a different thing, isn’t it? It means you want him, you want to taste him, that you like his aftertaste of musk and cum to linger in your mouth long after you’ve finished him off.

Chrollo just likes the implications of it all – and seeing you on your knees or feeling your lips against his neck will just make him shiver, excitement and lust and love pooling in his gut, all directly at sweet, perfectly little you.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Holding your hand

It’s not really a kink, but you’ll notice quite quickly into your sexual relationship with Chrollo that he has a habit of always managing to interlock your fingers when he’s fucking you.

The first few times you’ll think it’s sweet, deciding that although it seems out of character for a mass murderer to want to hold you hand when he’s already stuffed as deeply inside of you as possible, it’s kind of endearing.

It seems like a manipulation tactic at first, honestly – you don’t trust Chrollo, not at all, and despite the fact that you’ve caved and given into your bodily desires to have him touch you and pleasure you, you don’t like him. Maybe this is some ploy to get you to fall for him – you’ve seen him reading articles and researching on ways to make women feel loved and valued during sex, his dark eyes diligently and eagerly scanning the words.

(You didn’t bring this up to him, however – the conversation that would’ve ensued would’ve been unbearable, and what would you even say? Chrollo, why do you want me to feel wanted during sex? What are you playing at? Is it not enough for you that I’ve already admitted I want you to touch me?)

The truth, actually, is none of those things – of course, he does view sex as a way to bring you closer to him and get you closer and closer to returning his feelings, but the hand holding actually isn’t something he’s meticulously planned.

The constant stimulation and attention to your clit, he’d known from the beginning – making you come feels good, yes, but he needs you to enjoy it, to realize that he can give you pleasure consistently, that he knows his way around your body. But the hand holding?

Well, the first time he fucks you, he’s genuinely gone – you can’t tell, not really, but from the moment he slips inside of you, he’s fighting to keep his composure, his hips begging him to just ruin you, to fuck into you as hard and fast as he can – even if it means spilling himself inside of you in as little as two minutes. He finds himself drifting away and getting lost in the pleasure that first time, and subconsciously his hand is finding yours, needing something to grip onto, something to ground him and keep him from coming much too early.

His cold fingers lace with your own, pressing your hand against the mattress as he continues humping his hips into yours, and he’ll squeeze your hand when the pleasure gets especially strong, his grip so tight it nearly bruises you.

He needs to hold your hand – it’s comforting, but more than that it keeps him connected to you.

It feels intimate, like something reserved only for you, because even though he’s slept with other women before, never has it been like this. Never has he actively been trying to make them feel good, and never has he actively been hoping they’ll want to fuck him again and again and again, something that he ardently, feverishly hopes you feel.

Holding your hand becomes something of a tradition; it gets easier to not immediately orgasm when he slips inside you, but still his hand moves on its own, capturing yours and squeezing, his dark eyes boring into yours and the veins on his hand standing out.

It’s romantic, he thinks, and even when he’s kissing you and throwing your legs over his shoulders, balls clapping loudly against your ass as he pants and whispers your name under his breath, his hand will stay in yours.

And his grip is tight – you can’t pull your hand out, he won’t let you. You’re not allowed to, because this makes the sex special, intimate, meaningful – it makes the two of you closer, your bodies truly united in more ways than one.

He loves you, he promises, and frankly, it’s best if you don’t mention this habit – he won’t tell you the truth, instead letting a small smile flit his lips and telling you cryptically that it helps me know if you’re feeling good.

That’s bullshit – it’s all for him, but you don’t need to know that gripping your hand like its his lifeline is the only thing keeping him sane when he fucks you – it’s the only thing keeping him from bucking into you like a wild animal, filling you full of cum like some sort of predator.

Voyeurism

Chrollo has a rather nasty habit of watching you. He’s not quite as overt as some other members of the Troupe, but it’s not hard to notice the way those dark eyes are always trained on your figure, observing, scrutinizing, staring with an intensity that makes you feel like a bug under a microscope.

He just finds you utterly fascinating, and he honestly finds himself unable to look away from you. You’re captivating in every sense of the word, and his feelings don’t change when it comes to the bedroom – he’s constantly, constantly looking at you.

The eye contact can be sexy, sometimes, in the right circumstance, but most of the time the intensity makes you nervous, embarrassment settling in your gut because you feel like he can see every inch of you, every imperfection and flaw.

He’s always looking at you while he’s fucking you, those eyes boring into yours as his hips snap into you, faster and faster and harder and harder, watching your face as you get close to coming, seeing how you fall apart for him and cry out his name.

He’s staring and breathing a bit harshly when you’re taking him down your throat, mesmerized by the way your lips slot around him, how his cock appears and disappears again and again, your little gagging noises when you take just a bit too far down making him near feral.

He’s even staring at you while he sucks on your clit, fingers curling inside you as he looks up at you from under his lashes, the eye contact making you shy away and close your thighs around his head, just wishing he'd stop staring at you like you’re some slab of meat for him to devour.

But more than anything, Chrollo likes to observe the way you look when you’re feeling good – pleasure looks good on you, and especially before you allow him to touch you in an overtly sexual way, Chrollo will have you touch yourself for him, all the while he gets a front row seat.

It’s thrilling, the way you spread yourself open on your fingers, tugging your lip between your teeth as you rub small, tight circles against your clit, your thighs trembling from both the pleasure and the weight of his gaze.

He’ll settle himself into a chair at the end of the bed, sitting with his legs crossed and his fingers digging into the armrests, his eyes trained directly on you. He’ll alternate between staring at your face and staring at your cunt, too entranced by it all to fully commit to one or the other.

He likes seeing the way you work yourself, how you flick your fingers or turn your wrist, the pace and tempo and precision of your movements.

He likes to stare at your breasts, watching them heave in time with your chest, seeing your nipples perk up and pebble up, looking hard and pinchable and suckable, like the perfect spot to rest his lips.

He’ll stare at the way your thighs tremble and jerk together occasionally, the pleasure and risqué of being Chrollo’s entertainment making everything feel heavier, stronger, more intense.

He’ll request that you finger yourself or play with your clit or touch your tits, anything and everything because he wants to see everything.

 Of course, it’s nothing new to him – he’d watched you masturbate countless times before he stole you away, enjoying the vulnerability of it all, your weak, alluring form totally unaware of the eyes watching your most intimate moments.

But now, now, it’s different – you know you’re being watched now, and that adds a certain layer to your actions that makes Chrollo lick his lips, because while seeing your naked body and hearing your barely contained moans has his cock standing at attention in mere seconds, the fact that you’re reacting so strongly to knowledge that it’s Chrollo staring gets his ears feeling hot and his hands twitching, aching to reach out and touch you.

There’s something alluring about the fact that you’re acting all shy and bashful because it’s him that’s watching you like a hawk, his cock clearly hard against his stomach as he stares, obviously enjoying the sight.

He likes to know that he’s affecting you, that you’re thinking of him, that he’s on your mind as you play with yourself and make yourself come – it’s hot, frankly, and although it’s a test of his self control (one he struggles with far more than you’ll ever know), watching you bring yourself to orgasm is the best foreplay he can imagine.

Because then, he can watch himself bring you to orgasm, and isn’t that just the prettiest, loveliest sight?

Isn’t you falling apart for him, moaning and writhing and scratching down his back, the single most valuable thing on this Earth?

He’s a thief, after all, and anything valuable is his for the taking – including you.

BIGGEST FANTASY:

Chrollo is, without a doubt, extraordinarily possessive. You’re completely and utterly his, his property and under his ownership, to the point where he’ll often refer to you as such in passing with another Troupe member, no matter how demeaning and belittling his hummed response of yes, she’s my most prized possession may be.

You’re the only thing he’s ever wanted this badly, the only thing he’s ever wanted so much that it physically hurts, and he has no qualms with acting on these possessive urges, claiming you as his and only his.

However, Chrollo presents an odd juxtaposition in bed – while he absolutely does not want anyone else to ever see you in such a vulnerable, intimate position, there’s a certain allure to the idea of fucking you in public that he simply can’t shake off.

Of course, he’s thoroughly unwilling to allow you to be seen by other people, for your perfect, lovely body to be ogled by other human beings, those who are completely unworthy of being graced by your soft curves, your pretty moans, your twitching thighs and dripping hole.

You’re his to ogle and play with and make a mess of, and although the idea of another man watching you fall apart for Chrollo is appealing in its own right, he’d never be willing to stomach the idea of you seeing another man – or another man seeing you – when you’re in your most vulnerable, intimate position.

And these conflicting desires lead him to a sort of problem. On the one hand, he wants more than anything to fuck you in front of an audience, because what signifies ownership more than claiming you publicly, and what more can he do to show the world that you’re his, that he’s made his mark on you and you’ll never be loved by another?

But on the other, he can’t stand the thought of actually fucking you in public, which leads to a compromise – that is, it’s just so easy to spend a night in a bedroom high, high above the streets, the city skyline out the window and from the balcony mesmerizing, the dark night making the lights shine and the people they illuminate shine as well.

It’s not ideal, but Chrollo has found that the only way he can think of to satisfy this intense sexual fantasy with you is to simply fuck you in a space where no one can see you, but you can see everyone – thus, the window of some fancy, swanky hotel should do the trick, right?

Then everyone, whether knowingly or not, will be witnessing Chrollo claim every fucking inch of you, right?

It’s perfect, and something he’s so, so desperate to try out with you – just the thought gets his body feeling hot, his pants uncomfortably tight, and this strong, dizzying excitement brewing in his chest.

“The room is really lovely, Chrollo.” You compliment, appraising the room bathed in maroon and gold, the intricacies of the wallpaper and bed sheets catching your eye. It’s a simple one bed room, an adjoining bathroom to the side, but the real showstopping aspect of the horribly overpriced room is the set of floor to ceiling, pristine glass windows facing the night city, the various buildings too far to truly make out any specifics. It’s situated downtown, but Chrollo has made sure to secure a room on the fiftieth floor – towering above any nearby skyscrapers, thus giving him the privacy he’s been fantasizing of. 

            “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” Comes his response, smooth and suave, though you think you can hear the smallest smidge of pride.

            Making your way towards the windows, you stare across the sleeping city skyline, trying to memorize every detail you can, while Chrollo watches you from across the room, excitement swirling in his chest at the prospect of what’s to come. 

            He’s quick to join you, standing beside you and glancing towards your awed face, chuckling softly and using his thumb to trace the line of your cheekbone. “You’re staring, love.”

            You blink a few times, before throwing him a playful glare. “And so are you.”

            He’s silent for a moment, before he leans down to press his lips against your own, his dark eyes fluttering closed. “How could I not, when something so beautiful is standing before me?”

            His words are sweet, and they have you bashful despite yourself – something Chrollo doesn’t hesitate to exploit, as he pulls you in deeper to the kiss. His hand rests snugly at your waist, the other coming up to cup the back of your neck, his lips working faster against your own, though the kiss is still softer, less insistent. 

            That changes quickly though, as your hand reaches out to brush against the growing bulge resting in his black slacks, a small hum pressed against your lips as Chrollo unconsciously moves closer to the action. Soon you’re unabashedly groping him, fingers idly squeezing and lightly pressing against him as he deepens the kiss, lips getting needier as the minutes fly by, small gasps and breaks for air the only sounds reverberating through the night air of the hotel room. 

            Insistent hands grasp onto the hem of your shirt, pulling upwards and exposing the expanse of your stomach, the soft skin immediately felt and caressed by the man before you, his fingertips oddly soft for his line of work. He pulls back slightly from the kiss, dark eyes slowly opening to meet your hazy gaze, a small smile quirking on his lips as he moves forward to your ear, breath ghosting against the sensitive skin. 

            “Undress for me, darling.” His words are sin, his voice smoother than silk, the timbre making a shiver race up your spine as you gulp and follow his instructions, peeling each layer of cloth separating your body from his wandering touch. Chrollo’s dark eyes take every movement in, excitement burning in his chest as your body is slowly revealed to him, your skin soft and supple and touchable. 

            His fingers twitch. 

            He’s quick to follow suit, sliding off his jacket, pants and undergarments, leaving him nude in all his glory, prompting you to rake your eyes across his sculpted chest, the lines of his biceps, the sharp ‘v’ of his navel, and of course, the eager, flushed cock pressing harshly against his lower stomach, practically begging for your attention and touch. 

            “You’re beautiful, my dear,” He starts, approaching you and bringing a thumb up to trace your cheekbone, that same small smile decorating his lips. His lashes are long, easy to see from this distance, and as your lips part to respond, he cuts you off with his thumb placed against your tongue, his eyes shining brighter. 

            “Why don’t we show the world just how beautiful you really are?” His voice is oddly uneven, the excitement dancing in those dark depths of his gaze making you arch your brows slightly, confusion lacing your features as Chrollo gently pushes your shoulders. The glass hitting your backside is cold, the smooth surface alien against you as you squeak slightly.

            “What – what do you mean?” You ask, voice small as he sharply inhales, his other hand coming down to run along your side as his eyes trail along your lips and down to your breasts. He smiles as he takes in your nipples, the skin puckering. 

            “Wouldn’t it be such a shame to keep a beauty like you hidden from the world? Don’t you want everyone to know,” he starts, leaning into your neck before kissing down until he reaches the juncture of your shoulder. “That you belong to me?”

            He bites down, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to get you gasping out and throwing your head back slightly, the glass cold against your scalp. 

            “Would you like that? Do you want the world to know how much you crave me?” He asks, his voice low and husky. 

            You bite your lip and nod, murmuring out an agreement. 

            “Can’t hear you darling, try again.” 

Embarrassment creeps up your neck as you tell him in a louder voice, “Yes Chrollo, please, want everyone to know that my body was made for you, please!”

He shivers against you, his bare skin against yours making your head spin. His eyes are wide as he stares down at you. “Good, because I’m going to fuck you hard enough that no one will question who owns you.”

And with that, he’s spinning you around so that you’re face to face with the glass. The material is cold, your nipples rubbing against it and making your thighs rub together at the strange sensation. A sea of lights fall before you, the city glowing from so many meters in the air. 

His hands settle at your waist, squeezing slightly before sliding down over your hips, the smooth breath he exhales by your air making you shiver. Every sense feels heightened, and although you know no one can see you from so far below, it still sends a thrill through you at the idea that someone could, if they tried hard enough. Eventually his hands lightly pull at your hips, pulling your ass back towards his pelvis and making you bend over slightly, so that your cunt is poised out for him while your breasts still press against the cold glass.

Chrollo hums from behind you, a finger tracing down your spine and ending up right over your fluttering hole, slipping inside carefully and feeling the way you clench down on him, the sharp little gasp you give him only making another bead of precum drool from his tip, his groin throbbing and pulsing with the need to bury himself inside you, to thoroughly fuck the tight, warm cunt he’s feeling around his fingers.

He pulls them out abruptdly, making you whine a bit and wiggle your hips, the sight forcing Chrollo to tightly shut his eyes, grappling for control over himself. “Now love, in order to let everyone know just who you belong to, you’ll have to be loud enough to hear, yes?”

You nod, muttering something in agreement, but Chrollo cuts you off with a wide smile, his eyes flashing as he grips his cock and lines himself up. “Scream for me.”

And with that he’s pushing himself inside, not pausing for a moment to let you adjust. He’s thrusting into you with force, the sheer strength making you rock forward with each pulse of his hips. Your hands press against the glass, your cheek smooshed against the cold material as you moan and cry out his name, the angle hitting you deep and the eroticism of the whole situation making your head swim.

Chrollo leans in close behind you, his breath already a bit heavy and ragged. “Do you like – ngh, do you like this love? Getting fucked while so many people could be watching?”

You moan out a yes in response, gasping and feeling your whole body shake as his fingers snake between your legs and begin working at your clit.

He laughs breathlessly behind you, his chest pressing against your back. His lips brush against your ear, his breath hot and heavy, and you feel him twitch inside you, his orgasm looming near.

“Let’s give them a good show, yes?”

            And when he pulls out a few minutes later, turning you around and letting his cum spraying from his tip and landing on your chest and stomach in ropes, he can only flutter his eyes closed and mutter your name, before peeling them open and exhaling shakily.

            He’ll push you right back up against the window, a knee forcing itself between your legs to open you back up again, his cock still hard and insistent and aching to finish inside you this time. Meanwhile, his cum smears against your skin and the glass, leaving a film that makes you shiver – the glass is cold but his cum is hot. You moan as he forces himself back inside you, immediately continuing with the brutal, rough pace he’d taken earlier, determined to let the whole city see how prettily you take his cum inside you this time.

            And when you’re done, some forty five minutes later, with two loads of warm, runny cum spilling from between your legs, the smears of his first orgasm all over the glass and your tits will only make him lick his lips, arousal once again simmering in his gut.

            Maybe this time the city would like to see how pretty you look when you squirt.

#yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #_chrollo lucilfer #_lee's profiles #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #hxh smut #_hxh

[vashtijoy]

why everybody is wrong about the unlock date for akechi's rank 6 (and why it matters)

So It Is Known that Akechi's rank 6 unlocks on 9/3, right? That's the first day he'll show up in Leblanc to go to the bathhouse and tell you about his sad backstory (again). That is his unlock date. R...ight?

Game says no.

This is the function that (usually) tests Akechi's rank 6 time lock, SUB_COOP_TIME_[L]OCK6(). What does it do? It sets a bit, 0x1 831, if we fail the check. Which we will unfailingly do on every single day within a specified date range. And what is that range?

That range is between 4/1 and 8/28.

Read that again. Not 9/2, the day before 9/3. 8/28.

The same 8/28 we all know and love for, uh, some reasons:

That's right. The reason Akechi's confidant is locked until 9/3, the reason he has not one but two "let me tell you about my backstory" events inside of a week, is that one triggers the other.

Akechi shows up at Leblanc on 8/28. He finds a listening ear, and a shoulder to cry on—because, remember, we're smack in the middle of Akechi Hate Month:

This kid, who is so desperate for attention and approval that he's become a mass-murderer over it, is now in the middle of a public hate storm. And on 8/28, you listen to him. You make him welcome. You accept him for who he is—at least, for a little part of who he is.

And so he comes back less than a week later. On 9/3.

if he unlocks on 8/29, why 9/3?

Akechi's availability is often quite limited. Between 8/28 and 9/3, he's only available on one day, 8/30—though if you're already at rank 5, you can't do anything with him then.

Why doesn't he come to Leblanc on 8/30?

The Leblanc field (areas in P5 are technically known as fields) calls a very long, very unedifying function called NPC_FLAG_SELECTOR(), to see which NPCs it should load when. In short? It does this by testing the day of the week.

GET_DAYOFWEEK() returns a number between 0 (Sunday) and 6 (Saturday). So, because Akechi will only come to Leblanc if GET_DAYOFWEEK() returns 6, Akechi will only ever come to Leblanc on Saturdays.

And the first Saturday after 8/29? It is, of course, 9/3.

why does this matter?

Does this change anything? In practical terms, no. Akechi is still always going to be inaccessible for rank 6 until 9/3. But does it confirm anything about him? Well, yeah.

Akechi's rank 7 unlock really is on 11/2, the morning he tells you "I was working last night, so I'm tired today"—that time lock terminates on 11/1. His skill checks (Knowledge and Charm) are all exactly what you think. He even has a hidden lock for rank 8 (still called a time lock by the code) which verifies that he's currently a team member and won't let you proceed otherwise; that, too, acts exactly as you'd expect.

It's rank 6 which turns out to have this secret, to truly be as closely connected to 8/28 as it always appeared. Akechi comes to Leblanc in his hour of need, and he finds something—and then, the next day, he wants more.

And so he comes back—the very next evening he can get away to spend time in Yongen-jaya.

(Incidentally, I'm pretty sure Akechi lives in Kichijoji, and this kind of backs that up. It's the sort of super-trendy place he'd make a show of liking, and in fairness, he clearly does like it. He can only come to Yongen on Saturday nights because it's a lot of travel, close to an hour each way in the early evenings. But Kichijoji? He can hang out there far more often—because it's right on his doorstep.)

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.0 (2023/12/26)—first posted.

#persona 5 #p5 meta #p5 tech #8/28 #goro akechi

[kasagia]

hi, can you do a one-shot for klaus, where he has a crush on y/n, and they have a one-night stand, and Klaus is sad because he thinks he won't see her again, but then he gets the news that y/n n is pregnant with his daughter (reader gets pregnant, no hayley, y/n is Hope's biological mother) and klaus takes the news well, because it's someone he loves and takes the pregnancy as an opportunity to make t /n love him.

Making her love me

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x fem! reader Word count: 7,4k (way too long, sorry not sorry) Warning(s): smut mention, panic attack (a little), swearing, and typical TVD violence. Nonsense from me: I'm so excited to post it since it's my first request/ask or whatever I should call it. I hope it's basically what you asked for, Gallus Anonymous! <3

Klaus Mikaelson loved Y/N Y/S.

The original hybrid was hopelessly in love with her since the first time he met her on his family's ball. He will always remember that day.

She looked like an angel. Well, maybe more like a devil (judging by the fact that part of her hair was arranged in two small buns imitating horns), but still, she was the most beautiful girl at the party (and maybe in the whole world).

When he saw her, dancing in her black-golden dress with one of Salvatore's brothers, he knew that this girl would be his at the end of the day. Even if he has to fight with these bloody, young vampires.

Unfortunately, Y/N didn't have the same feeling when she first saw him. As a proud member of a Mystic Falls group (who returned to the town after a school exchange), she was obligated to hate the Mikaelsons.

But she must admit to herself that the man with the British accent was incredibly hot.

Damon, noticing Klaus's sudden interest in his friend, decided to use this to his advantage and pushed Y/N into the arms of their nemesis. Klaus was delighted. Y/N disgusted.

The original hybrid stuck to her for the rest of the evening, forgetting all about Caroline. Y/N has since become Klaus Mikaelson's official distraction. And she wasn't happy about it at all.

Her friends would use the Siphon Witch whenever they needed to keep Klaus occupied or to ease his bloodlust after doing something stupid (like stealing white oak stakes right under his nose and 12 obedient hybrids. Great plan, Damon!).

Y/N would have to wisely bump into Mikaelson and spend some time with him until the Mystic Falls heroes fix the shit they made. At least the girl was much less stressed compared to her friends, and sometimes she really enjoyed the company of the hybrid.

Once, a man took her to a cafe-studio where little-known Mystic Falls artists would gather. She returned to the Salvator Brothers' estate in navy blue paint, with little constellations painted by Klaus on her face, arms, and neck. Damon barely refrained from making a sarcastic remark.

Fortunately, Stefan saved him from her very likely wrath, because every time someone makes jokes about Y/N's relationship with Klaus, she gets mad and loses control over her magic power. Once, Bonnie had to repair Stefan's motorcycle. The vampire learned his lesson then and tried not to annoy her again. Sometimes, though, he seriously considered letting his older brother cross the line. He wondered if Damon would cry over a damaged car.

With time passing, Klaus had only a stronger crush on her. Everyone knows that. Expect Y/N herself.

At best, she thought the hybrid regarded her as some sort of friend or a distraction between his villainous grand schemes. There could be no feelings between them. Not when she already had a very loving boyfriend whom the original hybrid found out about at a 1920s school party.

She bewitched him completely then. And he was ready to tell her the truth about his real feelings for her and try to make her his, but then he saw this other guy holding her like he wanted to hold her the first time he met her. For Klaus, this man didn't deserve her attention; that human didn't realize how valuable a treasure he was holding in his hands right now. Klaus wanted to go away and let Y/N enjoy dancing with this lesser man. He really does. But when she turned and looked at him with these beautiful, delightful eyes, he couldn't just disappear without exchanging one last word with her.

After all, Klaus was a selfish man.

"You don't mind if I cut into you." Klaus' voice came from behind me, making me shiver.

"Yes. Actually, we do." My boyfriend snarled, recognizing the guy who was "hanging dangerously around me." He had no idea about the supernatural shite we were in and I had no idea how to tell him all of this (or just didn't want to).

Klaus just smiled unfazed, catching his gaze.

"Why don't you go somewhere far away and come back in 20 minutes? You can be useful and bring the beautiful lady something to drink." my boyfriend dutifully obeyed, leaving me with a smug hybrid. "Shall we, love?" he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him, swaying to some slow, romantic song without waiting for my response.

"Why do you always have to prove you're the alpha male?"

"I don't have to prove anything, love, I'm the alpha male." he replied, offended. I rolled my eyes, sighing.

"You would've loved the 1920s, Y/N. Girls were reckless, sexy, and fun. They literally used to dance until they dropped." he turned me around, smiling slyly.

"Since they were so reckless and drunk, I suppose it was easier for you to find a lover then."

"You should be nicer to me. I'm leaving town tomorrow." I shifted my gaze to him, shocked by the information he had thrown at me. "I'd invite you to come with me, but we both know that you're not ready to accept my offer. Perhaps one day you'll turn up at my door and let me show you what the world has to offer."

"How many girls fell for it? A magical tour of the world with an all-powerful original who plays with them like toys?"

"You mark my words. Small-town boy, small-town life won't be enough for you." he said, completely ignoring my previous words.

"And how do you know what's enough for me?"

"Because I know you, Y/N. Do you imagine marrying that stupid man with whom you were dancing later? Giving him children, living too short to make your real dreams come true?" I wanted to look away from him, but he gently grabbed my chin, forcing me to confront him and all my fears at the same time. "You want love, trust, passion, excitement, and even a little power, and unlike this fool, I can give you all of this and more. Just say a word."

"But for what price?" I asked, taking a big breath.

I realized we were much closer than was appropriate for a dance, but neither of us cared. His gaze was moving from my eyes to my mouth. I licked my chapped lips unconsciously, stuck in some incomprehensible anticipation. Only for what?

"Kaus. Y/N. I finally found you two. We have a problem. Klaus' mother is back." Stefan interrupted the moment between us.

I swear I could hear a little swear from the hybrid before he took my hand and led me towards Stefan, who was hurrying away.

After that, T/N didn't get a chance to meet Klaus again. Since they were on opposite camps in finding the cure, Y/N tried to avoid the hybrid at all costs. He just wanted to use her. Seduce her with his sweet words to make her do everything he wanted. She had no other explanation.

Klaus, on the other hand, tried to get her out of his head in every way he knew how. He couldn't keep up with adding new canvases for the portraits of his one-sided crush. His siblings were starting to worry about him.

Especially after he found out her boyfriend was going to propose to her. (Damon has never been prouder of being a gossip boy.) This overflowed the hybrid's cup of bitterness.

Kol and Elijah walked around their brother like they were on eggshells. Rebekah, on the other hand, has no such pity. It was her occasion to tease Klaus, like he was doing whenever she fell in love (at least Rebekah didn't want to kill Y/N like SOMEONE).

But nevertheless, she was the one to tell Klaus that Y/N rejected her boyfriend's proposal. The original never loved his sister more. He was happy that Y/N was now single, and he even thought that in the near future he may have a little chance with her since there were no other competitors for her heart.

But even in his wildest dreams, Klaus would not have dared to think that Y/N would knock on his door that same day and greedily bite into his lips as soon as he opened it. And not that she'd start ripping his clothes off and pushing him into his bedroom (which surprised him, given that she knew how to get there without his directions).

He never would have thought that one night would change his life forever.

~•♤♤♤•~

Y/N's POV

I sighed, rolling over to the other side of the bed as the first rays of sunlight somehow hit my eye. I always kept the windows closed. How come I didn't do it this time? Reluctantly, I opened one eyes to look at my treacherous bedroom window, only to found out that I wasn't in my room.

Also, not in my bed.

And not in any clothes.

AND DEFINITELY NOT ALONE.

As soon as I looked at the calm, sleeping, and clearly satisfied (judging by his disheveled hair) Klaus, memories of last night started flooding back to me.

Panicked, I looked around the room for my clothes, trying to ignore the sight of overturned furniture, a broken mirror, and even a dent in the wall. Unsuccessfully. My face has never been so close to the color of my blood.

Once I'd traced my things, I carefully got out of bed and dressed as quietly as I could, closing the vampire's bedroom door behind me. Now all I had to do was get out of the house full of originals unnoticed. Simple, right?

"Y/N, darling! What a pleasure to see you this morning. How do you feel?" Klaus' little brother jumped out of nowhere and threw one arm around my shoulders, making me come inside the house again.

"Hello Kol. Bye Kol." I tried to dodge him, but he sped up to stand in front of me.

"Wait a minute half-witch. You're going to leave my brother like this? After your… noisy night? He'll be devastated. Was he not up to the task? I could teach him a bit if that's a problem for you. You have my word that within a week you won't be able to stop…"

"Kol! For the bloody hell, stop this awkward conversation. I'm sorry for him, usually we keep him in a coffin." Rebekah cut him off and stood next to him, glaring at him furiously.

"Um… no problem, I guess. If you don't mind, I'm gonna go now."

With even redder cheeks, I ran out of the mansion and, at the speed of light, got into my car, driving far away from this town. I needed rest, and I knew only one person who would be willing to take me under their roof without any questions.

"Hi Katherine. Where are you right now?"

~•♤♤♤•~

"Are you sure it's just food poisoning? Won't you die here suddenly? Do you want my blood?" Katherine flooded me with questions as I returned to our table.

It's been 2 months since my "great escape," as Damon liked to call it, from Mystic Falls. At that time, I was traveling with Katherine around the United States, doing what I wanted to do most: seeing the world (starting with small things like staying in all states). After the brunette gave the cure to Elijah (while experiencing her epic love story with him, which ended with her heartbreak over Elena's meddling and Elijah's doubts), she decided to accompany me on my quest.

I had to arrange everything in my head. What I wanted out of life, who I wanted to be, and so on.

That was the main purpose of this trip.

In fact, I helped Katherine heal her broken heart and tried to avoid the topic of Klaus Mikaelson like the plague. With small or big successes depending on the day.

Sometimes Damon, Stefan, or Bonnie would mention how snappy he'd become after my sudden departure or that he was asking them about my whereabouts. The worst was his drunken voicemails he left. They ended after the first month, but they were the biggest test of my perseverance. I had to piece my twisted life together before adding my love problems with the world's (nearly) oldest living vampire to the puzzle.

At least that was the plan until those New Orleans bitches got me.

As soon as we left the bar, some girls accosted us and knocked us out with magic. I woke up in some cold, dank, musty crypt with Katherine by my side. At least I wasn't alone. We both had a better chance of defeating those witches. The new thing in those two months was my sudden ability to do magic without any source of energy. It looked like my abilities were starting to screw up too.

"Are you Y/N Y/S?" one of the witches approached us, staring at me warily.

"One and only. May I know who I am having the pleasure of?"

"Sophie Deveraux."

"Sophie. Some time ago, I knew a girl with this name. She got under my skin too. She is dead now. You can guess what happened to her."

"Yeah. It's definitely her. I couldn't imagine someone more of this psycho's type." she told her friends. The women grabbed us both and led us out of the makeshift cell to drag us to the main hall of the crypt.

"Allright. Can one of us tell why you are holding us here?"

"We need you, sugar, but your friend is just an accessory, so if you want both of you to get out of this somehow, you'll keep quiet." seeing that I had no intention of objecting, the unknown woman smiled victoriously. "Good girl."

I gave her a sweet smile before breaking her neck with a flick of my wrist. There was a sudden commotion around us. Katherine suffered a brain aneurysm after one of the witches raised her hand on her. The brunette screamed once before someone else appeared in the crypt, tearing out the heart of the witch who was attacking her.

Elijah.

Elijah came to save the day.

"I thought you wanted to talk, and both Katherine and Y/N were supposed to be unharmed." he said in his legal tone, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stepped between me and Kath. The woman was as pleased with the presence of the original as I was.

"She started." Sophie pointed at me. Elijah turned to look at me. I shrugged.

"You make me." I answered her with a malicious smile.

"Y/N." the man said warningly. This noble bastard won't tell me what to do.

"Elijah. Nice to see you. Maybe you can tell us why we've been locked in some fucking tomb? Is this some kind of revenge of yours, or did we get caught in the crossfire of Mikaelson's skirmishes purely by chance?"

"I would like to know that too. You wanted to be heard. Speak, before I change my mind." he turned to the witches without changing his defensive position.

I gave Katherine a brief, knowing glance. The woman reluctantly nodded at me. Great. We have personal cannon fodder if things get hotter.

"Marcel Gerard, ruler of the city, forbade the witches of my coven to use any magic. We want your help. Especially your brother's."

"Niklaus? You have to make him go to town first. And as far as I know, she's not in the mood for any outings right now."

"Even if he gets a message from her?"

"Your mother didn't teach you not to point at people?"I growled at her as she did it again. "Besides, I didn't text… You have my phone, don't you?" I asked, realizing it was their only way of contacting the hybrid. The woman tossed me my phone with a sly smirk.

"Read." I scowled but followed her instructions anyway, wondering what it was that would make him stick his nose out of Mystic Falls.

"I need you, Klaus. New Orleans. Witches cemetery. Please help me. Yeah. I can already tell you that he won't come. We're waiting here for no reason."

"And why is that?"

"This news reeks of a damsel in distress from a mile away. I would never write to him like that. I also doubt if he even cares what happens to…" I stopped when I heard someone's scream in the distance. A man mentioned earlier had burst in with blood on his hands and lips.

Well… mistakes happen.

"Great! Now that we're all here, we can start. We need your help." The woman began to explain the whole thing about Marcel and the witches. Everything was clear except for one thing.

"And where exactly is my role in this Machiavellian plan of yours?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"And who said I would agree to it instead of just killing you all and taking Y/N out of here?"

"I can take myself and KATHERINE out, Klaus. I don't need your help."

"Oh, do you?" he took a few steps towards me to stand in front of me. I snorted, returning his dark gaze. There's no way I'll be afraid of him.

"That's how we get to the main topic." Sophie paused, catching our attention again. Klaus stood next to his brother, giving the witch his famous sinister look while he was waiting for her to continue. "You see, I have a special gift for knowing when a woman is pregnant."

"And how exactly is this fact important to us?"

"She's carrying Klaus' child."

I broke the sudden silence in the crypt with a very loud laugh.

"And you're insane or a very, very bad liar."

"I'm telling the truth! You're pregnant with his child." she tried desperately to convince us.

"Vampires can't procreate, ergo, I am not in any false pregnancy."

"Vampires can't. But werewolves can. And Klaus is both."

"That's ridiculous. Klaus, say something! She didn't tell the truth, did she?" I tried to find support from the speechless Klaus. By the way, I think it was the first time I saw him without words.

"Y/N, be quite for a second."

"What? Elijah, are you believing her?" the man responded with nothing, staring at me with a strange look.

Klaus walked over to me. He stopped a few steps in front of me, staring at my belly as if he was hypnotized.

"I can hear it." he whispered, looking at me in disbelief.

"Hear what?"

"The baby's heart."

"What? But... it's impossible." I suddenly felt my heart beating much faster, as I was unable to catch my breath properly.

"It is. Like being a hybrid or a witch without her own magic. And yet we're here. And we gonna have a baby."

"No. That's a lie. I... we... I need fresh air." I avoided the brothers standing in front of me and headed the way Klaus had come from earlier. Unfortunately, one of these witches blocked my way and grabbed my arm tightly.

"You're not going anywhere until we settle the details of our deal." right after she said that, I felt her hand being removed from me. I was pulled against someone's strong chest. The familiar smell of Klaus' perfume brought me a momentary sense of relief.

"Touch her again, and I'll make sure that's the last thing you gonna do before I take your miserable life away from you." Klaus growled, tightening his protective grip on me and scouring the present witches with a hostile glare.

"Calm down, both of you. Neither of you will have any use for her if she faints here. Klaus, take her outside. Elijah and I will take care of everything."

Klaus glanced at Elijah. His brother nodded, encouraging him to leave. The hybrid took my hand gently and led us out onto the streets of New Orleans. We stopped in a square. Klaus sat me down on a bench and knelt in front of me, carefully watching me take slow, deep breaths, trying to calm down.

When I was sure my magic wouldn't suddenly blow up the whole city, I opened my eyes tentatively to meet the vampire's concerned gaze. I swallowed, turning my eyes away from him. He was still kneeling in front of me with his hands on my lap.

"Are you better?"

"I think so." I glanced at him nervously, fiddling with the bracelets on my wrist to internally brace myself for asking the original thousand-year-old hybrid about something incredibly... stupid. "Can you... go to the one place with me?"

"Are you sure you want to go back there, love?" I shivered when I heard this familiar nickname. I missed this. Klaus misread my reaction as he shrugged off his leather jacket and covered me with it.

"Thanks. I don't want to go back there. I think, well, I need to be perfectly sure it's true that..." I stopped, unable to say the words aloud. It would have been too real then, and right now I couldn't accept even the slightest possibility.

"That we're going to be parents?"

"Yhm. Will you go with me to the gynecologist? I don't want to do this alone."

"Anything you want, love. I'll check the address." he sat next to me and started searching for the location of the nearest clinic on his phone.

As we sat together in silence, I began to wonder at the absurdity of this situation. And the improbable, rational behavior of the hybrid sitting next to me.

"Klaus?" I asked, yanking him off the phone for a moment.

"Yes?"

"You're not... you know. Crazy about this? Or something like that. I mean... I thought you gonna ask me if it's yours, of course if it even exist, but still. You're so... calm. Like not you."

"Would you rather me to run mad around town and deny our baby?" I chuckled, imagining his lunatic walk through the streets.

"No. To be honest, I would have expected something like that than this, but it's a nice surprise. It's enough that one of us is scared to death. Thank you for keeping a cold head."

"Don't get used to it, love. C'mon. I know where to go."

In less than five minutes, we got to the building and waited in line. There were many other people in the waiting room, but what caught my attention the most was a couple sitting in the corner. Husband and wife. The woman was probably in her third trimester (or had quadruplets. God, please let me have only one if there are any.) The man whispered something tenderly into her belly, and she smiled at him with just as much adoration. Involuntarily, I imagined Klaus and myself in this situation. I glanced at the tense vampire next to me. He was also staring at the couple.

"Y/N Y/S?"

"It's me."

"Are you going alone or do you have any company, dear?"

"My boyfriend is coming with me." I said, taking Klaus' hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an amused smirk on his lips. We started walking hand in hand behind the doctor. The vampire leaned toward me.

"Boyfirend, huh?" he whispered in my ear, clearly pleased with the situation.

"Don't get used to it, love." I repeated his earlier words, trying to imitate his tone of voice. The man chuckled, politely following the doctor with me.

I had to admit that it was funny to watch Klaus in such a... strange situation. His nervous, slightly stressed demeanor gave me courage as I lay there waiting for the ultrasound results. The cold gel tickled slightly, but I gritted my teeth, waiting for the final confirmation of my fate.

"There it is. That's your baby. Congratulations!"

Klaus put his hand on my shoulder and leaned gently toward the small screen. I stared at the tiny speck as if it were enchanted. It really was happening. I will be a mother.

"Do you want to hear your baby's heartbeat?"

"Could you give us first a second alone, doctor?" Klaus spoke as he saw me still staring blankly at the screen.

"Of course. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Oh, my God. It's real. We'll have a baby." I choked out after a few seconds of silence between us.

"You took that information really quickly, love."

I punched him lightly on the shoulder, finally turning my attention to the man standing next to me.

"Stop joking with me. Aren't you scared? I mean, a few hours ago we were on the other side of the country, living our lives, and now we're looking at some stain, which is our baby. Are you that calm, or am I being dramatic?"

"Of course I'm afraid, but I know we're going to figure it out. Maybe if it were someone other than you, I would be paranoid and mad, but it's you. With you by my side? Nothing can go wrong." I burst into tears at his emotional confession. Stupid pregnancy hormones.

"Come here, you idiot." I wrapped my arms around his waist and snuggled into him. "I hope Katherine got our things back."

"Yes. Speaking about her..." he said, moving away from me to look at my face.

"She is staying with me and you're not going to kill her." I said it in a tone that left no room for any objection. It's been 500 years; whatever conflict there was between them should be over by now.

"Absolutely not."

"Yes? So be prepared that if this little one is a girl, she'll be named after aunt Katherine, who couldn't be there for her mom because her dad is acting like he's on his period."

"You know you've been pregnant for a few hours, and you're already using it against me?" he asked resignedly. The grimace on his face was a clear sign of my victory.

"Get used to it. You're stuck with me for a while."

"I think I can work with that. Let's go home. I think uncle Elijah and Katherine will want to see the first photo of the newest member of the Mikaelson family."

~•♤♤♤•~

*Two months leter*

"Good morning, Y/N"

"Morning Elijah." I grunted from my book, never taking my eyes off the text I was reading.

"Have you eaten yet? Want me to make you pancakes?"

"Actually..." I didn't have time to answer, because an extremely happy hybrid came out of the kitchen with a large tray on which was my breakfast.

Elijah looked at his brother in disbelief as he sat comfortably next to me on the couch and began feeding me with a fork while I continued to read my book as if nothing had happened.

"Niklaus. Can you explain?" his brother was shifting his bewildered gaze between us.

"His werewolf hormones tell him to look after me. So when I told him I wasn't having breakfast today because I didn't want to stand in this heat by the stove, he made it his morning's main goal to make me a decent meal. At least Marcel and the witches will get some rest from him today."

"Werewolf hormones?" very amused Kol entered the living room, staring at the hybrid with a malicious smirk.

"Yes, brother. Werewolf hormones." Klaus' cool tone caught my attention away from the book.

"Of course... your werewolf hormones. So that's what they call it now. Just don't flood Y/N with this sudden tenderness, or the girl will get scared and run away from you again." before Klaus could make any move towards his younger brother, I grabbed his hand and moved him so that I could get more comfortable on his chest.

"He is weird." I commented as I took a grape from the bowl and popped it into Klaus' mouth, much to Elijah's astonishment.

"Weird? No. Just a little joker. I have to go now. I'll meet you later, Niklaus. Please, don't start without me."

"Do I want to know what he was talking about?" I asked, giving him a curious look.

"It depends. Will you get angry?"

"If it has to do with that teenage witch, Davina, that your adopted son treats like a daughter? Probably." his silence was an answer enough. I pulled away from him, eyeing him disapprovingly.

"Klaus."

"Yes, love?"

"Promise me you're not going to hurt her."

"And what does it matter? I'm not Elijah, how sure are you that I'll keep my word?" my angry look, however, fortunately made him give up. "Alright. She'll be fine." he sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Thank you. On the way back, you can stop by the store and buy me more chocolate and ice cream."

"As you wish."

He got up from the couch, placed a quick kiss on my already-showing belly, and left the living room, passing Rebekah as she entered. His sister looked at me curiously.

"What?" I asked, fed up with her penetrating gaze.

"Nothing. You two seemd very... compatible with each other. I'm impressed."

"Well, he's the father of my baby. We have to get along. For the baby's sake, it's best if we're friends."

"Surely." she hummed, completely unconvinced.

"Rebekah. What do you mean?"

"I mean that "just friends" wouldn't act that way. My brother never treated anyone with such affection. He's doing everything he can to impress you. For a bloody hell, he even changed his plan to take over the city for you!"

"She is right." Katherine walked past her and threw herself on the couch next to me. "He does everything he can think of to make you fall in love with him. For example, that "almost date" at the best restaurant in New Orleans last week. Or the fact that you've been given unlimited access to his credit cards, safes, stashes of clothes, and God knows what else. Or that weekend out of town so you could relax. Do you think they seriously didn't have a second room with two beds in the hotel?"

"Nik used the one bed trope? He's even more desperate than I previously thought." Rebekah snorted as she poured herself a glass of whiskey.

"Even if what you say is true, which I doubt, I have no intention of changing anything. Klaus and I work well as friends, and for the sake of this child, we will continue to be them so."

"So you don't love him back?" Rebekah questioned, coming to me, so she could stay in front of me. Her evaluative look somehow made me feel guilty.

"It doesn't matter what I want or feel. The most important thing for me is my child and I will do everything to ensure at least a little normality for them. If Klaus and I tried to be together and it didn't work out... At least this child deserves reasonably normal parents."

"What if you were happy together and created a loving family? Wouldn't that be better for everyone?"

"It's not worth the risk, Bekah." I replied, getting up from the couch to escape the inconvenient conversation with the original vampire.

"Risk of what?"

Losing him.

I didn't answer as I left the room. I decided to hide in the library for the rest of the day and try to forget the doubts the blonde had stirred up in me.

But my wild imagination did not give up so easily. I began to consider a possible relationship with Klaus. Despite what I told the girls, I wasn't blind to Klaus'… flirtatious remarks and behavior. I saw every long, stolen glance at me, every quick look at my lips during any conversation, and most of all, the longing shining in his eyes that was so similar to mine and that I somehow managed to hide from him.

I wanted to spend my life with him. But I also knew that I'm not enough to keep him away from his scheming and fighting for power. For the good of this baby, I had to be content with being his formal one-night stand and friend at best. Even if my heart yearned for him every single day.

Thinking about my unattainable future, I didn't even notice when I got to the library. But I certainly saw two people kissing in the room.

Klaus and Camille. At least he cleared up all my doubts.

I was probably the only one who noticed how my heart shattered into a million pieces. At least until Klaus pulled away from her, confused, and spotted me in the doorway.

"Y/N." he whispered, terrified.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to interrupt… I'll leave you alone."

"No! Y/N, wait!" he shouted, trying to get to me, but before he got even a step closer, I used my magic to teleport myself to a New Orleans street.

I leaned against the building next to me as the first post-teleport symptoms started to hit me and my head started spinning a bit. I shouldn't have done it while being pregnant, but well… I couldn't stay in the same room with these two any longer.

Once I had recovered, I decided to order myself a hot chocolate and sit with it in the park to collect my thoughts. I had to come up with some clever, eloquent way out of this predicament. And most of all, refrain from crying.

Thinking about this situation, after all, everything happened as I wanted. Klaus had found someone else to adore, so I could stop worrying about the deterioration of my relationship with the Mikaelsons.

We would be friends.

Just as I wished.

The only problems were my stupid broken heart and festering feelings of jealousy.

I wiped a tear running down my cheek with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. I shook my head, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down. Something that stupid couldn't get me off balance. I had to be strong. If not for myself, then at least for this little one.

My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pants pocket and glanced at the screen to see the photo of Klaus sleeping with me on the couch that I had set as his contact picture.

I remembered that night. It was one of the first month at the Mikaelson Mansion and also my favorite.

"Can't sleep?" Klaus stepped out of the shadows to stand in front of the fireplace, which flames I had been staring at earlier.

"Not even tried."

"May I?" he asked, pointing to the blanket that covered me. I nodded, opening the hem so he could slip into the space next to me. He put his arm around me, moving us into a more comfortable position. One of his hands automatically went to my slightly rounded belly. I sighed, resting my head against his shoulder, and returned to staring at the flames of the fire. "What's bothering you?"

"Remember when Tyler kidnapped me and…"

"Please tell me you're not going to lecture me again about how I shouldn't have attacked Elijah." he interrupted me with a groan of displeasure.

"I'm not, but your brother didn't deserve this. Even if he was talking some shit about you. You knew I would never believe it."

"You wouldn't?"

"Of course not. You always try to protect your family, not always in a good way, I have to admit, but still, I know you would never use your own child for your games. I trust you." he tightened his grip on me and cleared his throat.

"It's good to know you're at least on my side, love."

"Your siblings too. If you'd just let them in, maybe you'd see it too, but that's a topic for another time."

"I know better ways to spend my free time with you, love. One of them brought us to this situation." he smiled slyly, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Very funny, but we have to talk about something serious."

"I'm sorry. What are you thinking about?"

"Have you ever thought about whether there is a chance for our child to be… a tribrid?"

"Tribrid?" he asked, confused, stopping to play with my hair.

"You know. You're half vampire, half werewolf; I'm a witch, siphon, but still… Can our baby inherit all of this from us?"

"They might as well only have the gene of a werewolf, a witch, a vampire, or a hybrid. I think all options are possible. Maybe in my mother's grimoire we can find the answer to that question. These books are as old as the world."

"You can include the birth of a miracle baby in your search. I hope we won't summon a demon into the world." I joked, turning slightly to look at his face again.

"I thought you already knew that the demon has been walking around this world for a long time, and you're cuddling with him on the couch. By the way, it's our search."

"Our? You seriously want to just give me access to your mother's precious books? The same ones that have so much knowledge inside them that you won't let any other witch see them whole, or even your siblings?" I was shocked. I would never in my life expect something like this from him, but on the other hand, he has done astonishing things many times before.

"You're different."

"Like how?"

"I trust you."

"You did?" I whispered after a few seconds of silence. Those words were more striking than three others of equal importance he might have said to me. Klaus doesn't trust people that easily, I think he falls in love with them more often…

"You wouldn't be the first to hear about all my plans if I didn't. Besides, you're the mother of my heir..."

"Keep treating your family like a fucking dynasty, and you'll have to buy me a crown and my own castle." I cut him off when I heard that horrible term for our baby.

"Why do you need a castle when you already have your throne, love?"

"You're impossible." I chuckled at this awful attempt at flirting.

"That's why you like me."

"Maybe." I yawned suddenly, unaware of how tired I was. I felt the hybrid's soft, warm lips against my hair before both the blanket cocoon and his grip tightened around me.

"Sleep. I'll stay with you and I will chase away your nightmares."

"How did you know?" I asked, feeling him gently brush away the strands of hair that had fallen over my eyes.

"I know you. Besides, I can hear everything through these thin walls. I would rather hear your screams for other reasons than nightmares."

"Deviant."

"Only yours." I heard as if through a haze before falling into a deep, peaceful sleep.

The next day, Katherine found us sleeping together and took a picture of us. One of my favorites.

Before I could answer the phone, I felt someone snatch it from my hand, and something hit my head at breakneck speed, knocking me out. Stupid witches.

~•♤♤♤•~

~A few hours later~

I was kneeling in front of the crib that Katherine and Rebekah had set up after the whole witches' fiasco. After those damn witches kidnapped me, they cast some strange spell on me and the baby to speed up her (as it turned out) growth and thus her birth.

A few hours ago, I was a human pregnant with a hybrid. Now I was a heretic, the mother of the thyrbid, the most powerful creature on earth.

I guess life with the Mikaelsons was all about sudden, unexpected changes. At least they weren't boring.

Elijah, Kol, Klaus, and Marcel were running around the city, killing the last witches who had allied with Esther. Rebekah and Katherine have been delegated to look after me and the baby until the boys get the hang of the situation. A bit sexist, but I didn't have the energy to argue about it. Not after I so impressively returned to the graveyard and killed half the coven.

After feeding on the blood from the bag, the girls gave me a moment alone with my sleeping daughter. Her first day in this world, and she was already trying to get killed.

"Y/N." Klaus' tired sigh snapped me out of my thoughts. For the first time in hours, I shifted my gaze to something other than my daughter and met a face as tired and bloodstained as mine.

"Hi." he knelt uncertainly beside me, glancing at the baby sleeping in the cradle.

"She is beautiful. So similar to you." he whispered softly, afraid he would wake her up at any moment.

"She has a look of the devil in her eyes. That's all you."

The girl stirred in her sleep, as if hearing us talk about her. Two loving, child-infatuated looks appeared on Klaus' and mine's faces.

"She needs a name. You made a decision?"

"I was thinking about Zoe and Caitlyn. But I think we both know that Katherine Jr. is the best fit for her."

"God no." I chuckled, trying not to wake the baby after seeing his terrified look..

"Got a counterproposal?"

"Hope."

"Hope. That's actually nice. Hope Mikaelson."

"Mikaelson?"

"What? Are you not the father?" I asked teasingly.

"I'm but... I thought you'd want her to have your last name."

"Mikaelson suits her better." I replied with a shrug.

"Well, then I guess it will be Hope Y/N Mikaelson." I smiled at him, resting my head tiredly on his shoulder. We both stared in awe at the new member of the Mikaelson family.

"How did you come to that? Hope?"

"With Elijah's little help. When I found you… dead. Elijah said that I ruined our family's last hope by making out with this bartender, which, by the way, is not exactly true."

"Klaus..."

"No. Let me finish. I've never been so helpless and scared in all my life as I was a few hours ago. Never, not even in the worst, darkest moments of my life, have I been so broken, so despairing, than when I held your dead body. Whatever you think now, whatever you feel, the truth has to be told. I love you. I've loved you since the first time I saw you, and each day only brings me closer to you. You're the only one who can make me so mad, terrified, or happy. You taught me unconditional love, and even if you don't share my feelings, I want you to know that you completely changed me. It will be my life's purpose to make sure that our daughter and you are safe and satisfied." I stared at him with tears in my eyes, listening to his touching confession.

"I was so mad at you and Camille, but... I can't blame her; falling for you is as easy as breathing. Not when I did it a long time ago."

"You did?"

"Yes. And I don't want to hide it anymore. I can't hide it anymore. As I turned into vampire, everything I feel for you since all this time is more intensive. My desires, my love, and my longing - I feel them so much that I can't even imagine spending one more hour without your words, touch, or kiss. I don't want to live in a world where we're just friends. So if you promise that this is forever, then I..."

Klaus cut me off, pulling me into a longing, long-expected, passionate kiss. I moaned into his mouth, pulling him as close as possible by the strands of his hair. At one point, I bit his lip until it bled. My new ability was immediately activated. My fangs slid out of my gums by themselves, digging into his lip and sucking more of his delicious, sweet blood. We broke apart when we were completely out of breath. Klaus licked his lips, staring lustfully at my black-veined face and bloody mouth.

"I promise. You're mine. For always and forever, love."

"And you're mine. For always and forever."

"Aw... Congratulations, Nik! It only took you one child to make her yours. I thought it would take you at least three." Kol suddenly appeared in the doorway, interrupting our moment.

Klaus growled at him and threw the baby monitor at his brother. Kol dodged at the last second and tossed the device back at him, sticking out his tongue before he ran as fast as his legs could take him. I giggled, drawing the hybrid into a tender kiss.

Yeah, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus x reader #elijah mikaelson #katerina petrova #katherine pierce #kol mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #camille o'connell #damon salvatore #klaus oneshot #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus x y/n #klaus x oc #klaus mikaelson x oc #hope mikaelson #i hope it's good #one night stand #kissing #pregnancy #pregnant #love confessions #courting #love interest #romance #kasagia

[changisworld]

hey ml, could i request a lee know x 9th member reader? they’re secretly fucking and the boys don’t know until they accidentally walk in on them.. 🫶🏻 (i love your work btw!!)

Hi! first of all thank you so much for liking my work, that means so much to me! & second of all I'm so sorry I've taken so long to publish your request, thank you for being patient<3

LOOOVEE this concept so much so thank you for suggesting it!

I hope this is up to your standards since you've been waiting WEEKS for it! feel free to anon me your thoughts.

18+, MDNI SMUT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT

Word count;2,839

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

Any reblogs & comments are deeply appreciated&l<3

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS: Slight sub/dom dynamics, first time fucking, soft sex tbh, sloppy oral(m rec), praise, pet names, slightly public sex(in a shared dorm), manhandling if you squint a whole lot, unprotected sex, blueballs(SORRYY LEEKNOW MY BABY), getting caught, fluffffffff, 9th member reader, mention of past encounters with leeknow.

Saying you were nervous when JYP told you you would be debuting with a boy group instead of the trainees you had been with for the past few years was a serious understatement, but it is now the best thing that has ever happened to you.

You help out a lot when it comes to producing and writing so you spend a lot of time with 3racha which is no surprise, you love the three guys with your entire heart but you can get quite antsy after a while, seeing since there's not as much time being spent with the other members, specifically the main dancer of the group, lee-know.

Because leeknow is an introvert, just like you, it took you both a while to actually warm up to one another and it doesn't help much that you're never having the chance to speak to him one-on-one conversations with him, always having at least one or two other members with you both, until one specific night that would end up secretly making lee-know and you each others favourite members.

You and the group have been practicing new choreographies for your new comeback and the members start saying their goodnights one by one as they leave the room, until an hour later it's just you and leeknow left still practicing. It's not awkward between you and him by any means so you both keep practicing and talking, just messing around. Your shoulders start getting painful and you complain and leeknow offers you a massage which you gladly accept and that's where and when your crush on each other started.

Over the space of a few weeks, you both felt the connection and crush on one another grew, purposely leaving the areas you're both working at to meet at the water dispensers in the building or walking to vending machines just to seek a glance at each other. After a few weeks of doing this, you were helping and recording leeknows parts for a song and then you called him out of the booth once you were satisfied with it and let him listen. As he is doing this, he is standing behind you, leaning down and his hands on either side of the desk, caging you in, making you swallow in your chest. One compliment of his hands leads to him allowing you to touch them, leading to him complimenting you back, leading to you both saying this is wrong because you work together then somehow that leads to you both making out.

You are both in your dorm right now, the one you are sharing with Jeongin, Seungmin and Felix, with leeknow, currently making out with him, something you don't have a lot of chances to do due to your schedule & also trying to hide it.

He is nibbling on your bottom lip every once in a while as his veiny hand is resting on your cheek, thumb caressing it as you're beneath him, hands cupping the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Without realising it, your hips stutter slightly into his thigh, that is currently in between your legs. You feel your cheeks going hot instantly but you could swear you felt him smirk into your lips, so you repeat the action a few more times, trying to make it seem not so painfully obvious how desperate you secretly are. Leeknow pulls away his lips with a quiet pop noise but doesn't move away, just looking into your eyes instead. Your cheeks redden & you try to pull him back to your lip but he doesn't budge, making you shy away, slightly embarrassed. "be careful with what you're doing y/n" he hushes to you in a quiet, sweet voice, his ears red at the tips. "Yea, I'm sorry, was just, aah i don't know" you blush, turning your head to the side to try avoid his gaze but is quickly to paw at your face to get you to turn back. "you're horny? is that it?" he teases, already knowing the answer. "Don't speak like that! makes me shy" you let out a nervous giggle as you try to sit up, but leeknow is quick to stop that from happening, keeping you beneath him. "I wouldn't complain bunny, you can tell me, mkayyy? We just need to be.. careful, giving our situation." He strokes your hair, his face not giving much of what he is thinking away, making you a bit confused on what's going on. "Stooop, you're just confusing me." you play with his hair that is in front of his face, twirling it in your fingers, trying to not seem awkward.

He moves off of you but you're quickly being pulled by him so you're now straddling him which is a first for you both. Your heart is beating in your throat & your face gives it away instantly, which leeknow laughs at. "I'm saying, i'd be happy to help you, we both know how to keep secrets after all, don't we?" he questions, looking up at you as his hands find your waist and squeeze slightly, his face as if he is just talking about what he had for breakfast. You smile at his words, getting goose bumps from his hands on you but melting into them regardless. "I won't tell if you don't" you tease back, trying to sound bold and he smirks at you before pulling you in to kiss you again.

The kiss is quite soft but it only takes a few seconds before his tongue is poking at your lips and you gladly allow it inside, you now both tasting each other. He begins to move your hips against his and your breath stutters, liking the feeling but you begin feeling him growing beneath you as you're grinding against him even more. Your hand reaches down and begins palming the area of his hardening cock still covered by his sweatpants making him let out a small, low sigh which makes you pool in your panties.

Leeknow begins making his way down your jawline and then neck, giving it small kisses but making sure to not leave any marks, knowing it would be impossible to explain it to the other members and also the makeup artists who will need to cover it up. You let out small hums of approval as he is kissing the parts of your collarbone that he can reach while your shirt is still on, palming him a bit quicker and with a bit more pressure. "are you sure you wanna do this leeknow? I don't want this to mess anything up." you mumble out, trying to hold your moans back enough so your words don't splurge out. He lets go of your collarbone & look in your eyes, grinding ever so slightly into your hand. "It was messed up the second we kissed, jagi. We can stop if you want, no questions asked, but for some weird reason, i'm getting the feeling you want this too?" He says, sarcastically as one hand is still resting on your waist as the other is playing with the hem of your vest top. You take a deep breath in, smiling at his words before kissing him again with much more lust in the way your lips are moving together, already knowing the answer to what he said.

Your eyebrows furrow as he leans further back into the couch, your lips chasing him and in the process, your clothed cunt is now right on top of his clothed cock. Leeknow takes this chance to pull off your top, leaving you in a casual bra, not thinking this would happen so you didn't come more prepared. Your lips are interlocked again the second it comes off as your hands snake themselves under his shirt, making him hiss as your hands are a bit cold.

You break the kiss, both of your lips a darkened red colour now, swollen from the nibbles you have been given each other, looking glossy from the spit of your tongues tasting the other. He tries to keep you held against him but you move anyway and settle on your knees, untying his drawstrings, biting your bottom lip from the nerves, not looking at his face directly for more than a few seconds at a time.

"Y/n, should we go to your room? wouldn't want anyone to come back." He asks, putting his hand through your hair as he lifts his hips, helping you pull his sweatpants down, not actually caring about where you both are, just asking to make you feel more comfortable. "you gonna waddle to my room with your sweatpants at you knees? It's fine anyway, nobody's due to be back here for still quite a while, Felix made my room a bombsite earlier anyways." You joke, trying to calm your nerves as you see how big he is just underneath his underwear. He laughs a bit at your words and rests one hand on his stomach as he uses the other one to hold his hand over yours. "Mkay hunny, you just gonna stare at it or what, hmm?" He asks so casually, you would believe he wasn't affected at the situation if it wasn't for his bright red ears giving it away.

You let out a hum as you spit on his tip over his underwear, just to tease him and it works as he mewles under his breath, hips twitching. You pull down his boxers, just enough to let his cock spring free, hitting his stomach over his shirt which he quickly throws to the side after taking it off. You take it and you look at it, admiring how a guys dick can be pretty, also admiring how big he actually is. You begin kissing the tip softly, letting some drool land on his tip ever so often. "please, put it in jagi, pretty please." He groans out, trying to sound normal but it coming out more whiney than anything. You giggle before doing what he requested, licking the underside slowly, circling the sweet spot at the bottom of his tip which makes his hips stutter again, making you pull away. "Don't rush, keep your hips down." you innocently smile at him, looking like a sight for sore eyes in front of him. He just nods his head and swallows, not wanting to ruin it.

You put the tip in your mouth and swirl your tongue around, making him gasp, which is music to your ears. You begin sucking deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you start bobbing your head, using your hand to jerk off the part you can't yet reach in the same rhythm, humming around him, tasting a faint taste of precum. "F-fucck bunny, f--feels so good, holy shit, make sure there's plenty of spit, lo-love that." he groans, eyes trying their hardest to not roll into the back of his head as he is looking at you, head resting on his arm behind his head as the other is holding your hair in a ragged ponytail, holding it out of your face.

You let go of his cock with a loud pop before gurgling the spit that has formed while sucking and you spit it all back onto his dick, soaking it even more than it already is. You take it back in your mouth and within a few seconds of you jerking him at the base and hollowing your cheeks as much as you can along with the wet noises you're making, Leeknow is pulling you off him by the hair as gently as possible, his chest moving quickly and his face flushed, pretty much gasping.

"was g'na cum, w-wanted to put it inside, may-maybe? If not that's fine" he says, voice higher pitched and his tone of voice a lot more unsure sounding, sounding unsure. You lean in and kiss the tip of his nose and nod your head and a few seconds later, you're lying on the couch, on your back as he helps take off your bottoms and underwear with it, leaving you in just your bra and leeknow in between your legs, pushing them back so you can hold them. "You got a condom bunny?" he questions, eyes basically shining with adoration of what he is seeing, jerking slowly. "I'm on the pill and I'm clean, I'm assuming we both are, we are too busy to fuck anyone." you joke, feeling so comfortable in front of him despite being naked, your heart fluttering as he smiles. "Yeah, i'm clean. Ima push in now, you sure?" He asks in a loving voice, other hand caressing the back of your thigh.

You nod and that's as much confirmation he needs and he aligns himself up with you and begins pushing inside. You both gasp and shudder as he buries himself to the hilt and he reaches and takes your hand in his as he begins slowly thrusting. The dorm is filled with quiet moans, oo's and aah's from the both of you, looking into each others eyes. "f-feels so good, so b-good" you whine, words not making much sense as they vomit out of you. Leeknow blushes at your words and leans forward, not stopping his thrusts for a second. He reaches your lips and pecks your cheek, the sweat from his face now in his hair, sticking to his forehead. "You l-look so pretty like this, so pretty. So w-wet for me jagi, so good." You get butterflies in your stomach, feeling your heart getting warm.

Your arms wrap around the back of his neck and your lips connect again, whining into each other. You start to feel yourself bubbling up inside and Leeknows moans and shushed whimpers are just pushing you even further towards it. Your legs begin to feel like jelly as you are both meeting each other midway, thrusting into one another when the front door to the dorm opens.

You and Leeknow freeze as Felix and Seungmin walk inside, shrieking as they see what is happening on the shared couch. "I knew it Seungmin i fucking told you dance has been different because of them, the tension was right! This is our couch too what the fuck! do it in your damn room!" Felix yelps, swivelling around so his back is to you both, who are both still frozen in shock but luckily for you, they can only see your legs that are hanging against Leeknows waist and seeing his head, that is now poking up, looking at them both like a deer in headlights. "We are gonna pretend we didn't fucking see this, scrub the damn couch, we will ask questions later, get dressed!!" Seungmin says, jaw on the floor. Seungmin drags them both into Seungmin and Jeongins room and slams the door behind them.

You and Leeknow look at each other for a minute, not even saying anything. "I can't believe i just got blueballed by Seungmin and the one person who is gonna be a blabbermouth." Leeknow jokes before pulling out, way softer than he was. You giggle as you sit up next to him as he leans in and cuddles into you and you nuzzle your face in his neck. "what do we even say to them and no doubt the rest of the group?" you whisper, giving his neck a few pecks. "well we can either deny it and make them sound crazy and stop seeing each other or we could just.. fess up? We can.. do what ever one you prefer." He says sounding a bit defeated. You remove yourself from his neck and look at him, his face looking a bit bummed out, even though he's trying not to show it. You turn his head to look at you and you smile at him "I.. I would be lying if I said I wanted to stop, I would be lying if I said I haven't developed a mini crush on you, If you think it's easier to stop it all though, we totally can! no pressure!"

You begin looking at the floor, thinking you just ruined it and being embarrassed. The silence fills the room and you sigh before leaning down to gather your clothes but he gives you his shirt instead. "I thought the crush was one sided, thank god. I've been too nervous to fess up" he chuckles slightly, you both blushing as he hugs you again, kissing your head. "We can discuss this a whole lot more while we aren't naked, in your dorm livingroom as our members are down the hall though, mkay? We can mayybee go out on a date after we tell JYP and speak about it then, sound good?" He jokes again, smiling at you. "I guess that would be good" you say, joking back as you push his sweaty hair out of hi face. He begins reaching out for the clothes sprawled out on the floor, Him helping you get changed.

#skz smut #stray kids #lee know #leeknow x reader #skz #stray kids smut #kpop smut #leeknow smut #oneshot #anon ask #changbin #jeongin #seungmin #bang chan #han jisung #felix #hyunjin #kpop imagines #kpop #straykids

[writingwithfolklore]

Following a Trail of Clues

                Lots of plots have at least some aspect of figuring out a mystery or uncovering some hidden truth. While it may not be a traditional murder mystery, writing a plot that revolves around the gathering of information and uncovering of clues can be written using a lot of the same techniques.

1. You should probably plan it

If you’re strictly a pantser, give it a shot, but I have never been able to pants mysteries like this. I would recommend planning it from the beginning and saving yourself a lot of time and headaches trying to piece it together later.

2. Start with the beginning and end

When planning a mystery, I start with the beginning, and then skip to the point that they uncover the truth or figure it out and work backwards to fill out the middle. What is the last hint they need to uncover the full truth, then, what leads to that hint, rinse and repeat until we get back to that beginning you created.

                For example, say the MC is trying to find their missing friend. The last point would be ‘they find their friend’, so that’s where we begin. Maybe right before that, they’re told the location, to get their location, they’ve kidnapped one of the bad guys who knows it, to get to him, they need to break into the evil lair, to find the lair, they need to spy on the organization, and so on.

3. Diversify the hints

I talk about this a bit in my post about written elements (here), but essentially, you’ll want to diversify how your characters get their hints. It will seem cheap if they find everything they need to know on conveniently spaced notes or journal entries (unless you can really justify that), or it’s all told to them by someone who happens to know it all (such as the ‘wise man’ trope).

                Maybe they find the last clue written down, but the one before was told to them from a key character, and the one before was puzzled out through a riddle, etc. etc. Here are some places to find clues:

Someone else knows something

This could be either an ally or an enemy. Family members, friends they weren’t aware of, a hidden partner, seemingly a stranger who knows more than they’re letting on. If they are an ally, there should be a reason they haven’t come forward yet, or justification for why their testimony is where it is in a story. Maybe they are somewhat accidentally guilty in the mystery, maybe they are afraid to be involved, maybe they aren’t aware anything has happened at all.

If they’re an enemy, maybe your protagonists need to corner them, best them in a battle, talk to them away from their boss, kidnap them, etc. Consider why this person would betray their ‘side’ to provide a clue to the protagonists.

Journal entries, notes, letters, ledgers, or otherwise written down

Physical evidence—footprints, pieces of clothing left behind, an object, photos, drawings

Biological evidence--fingerprints, DNA, hair, etc. If your character already has access to the equipment for this, great! If not, consider how they could find this out.

A prophetic dream or vision (use in cases in which it would make sense for your character to have this, obviously)

A riddle, poem, or song, if you can justify it.

An educated guess (for small jumps)

Timing—if they can figure out a timeline, they may be able to figure out something else

Something is missing or off place. That’s odd, character always leaves their book on the bedside table, so why isn’t it there?

Any other ways to get hints or clues to your characters?

#writing #creative writing #writers #screenwriting #writing community #writing inspiration #books #filmmaking #writing advice #hints #clues #following a trail of clues #writing mystery #mystery #detective

[tallsc]

Hello fellow QSMP Tumblr people, I would like to make a offer and would love to see if this can catch on.

If we're adopting A1, let's go all out. We're taking care of this kid.

At least three times a week, someone on Tumblr, under the "qsmp a1 tasks" tag, should draw or write something about A1 doing at least one of the official tasks for that day or the prior few days (cause I know it takes time to draw or write). It doesn't have to be huge, could be anything from a sketch to a full picture or comic, from a few sentences to a full short story, as long as it appears under the tag and has something to do with A1 and one of the recent tasks! (Please say somewhere what task you're doing and what day it was from.)

A1 doesn't mind what name you use - Ai, Aaron, Ivan, just A1, something else entirely - as long as you still use the right tag so everyone can see that there's been a task completed. They also use any pronouns and have a whole wardrobe of accessories, again as long as it's clear in the art or story that the egg is A1 and not one of the other eggs.

Feel free though to include yourself or your OCs or one of the QSMP members or none or all of them, this is just a series of writing/drawing prompts with a purpose, go wild and have fun!

Due to it being Saturday already, required tasks won't start until this Monday. After that, let's see how long we can keep our community's new kid going!

Updates account

If anyone would like to translate this into any of the other three languages, I will gladly add the translations to this post and credit you for doing so. I want to make this visible and accessible to as many people as possible.

Translations below (French by @lb1412, Portuguese by @aurora-bore-aura)

Portuguese:

Oi pessoal do QSMP Tumblr, eu queria fazer uma oferta e eu adoraria ver se isso irá se espalhar mais.

Se a gente tá adotando A1, vamos com tudo. A gente vai cuidar dessa criança.

Três vezes por semana pelo menos, alguém no Tumblr, na tag "qsmp a1 tasks", tem que postar um desenho ou escrever sobre A1 fazendo uma das tarefas oficiais daquele dia ou uns dias antes (porque eu sei que leva tempo pra fazer arte). Não precisa ser muito, pode ser um esboço(sketch) pra um desenho completo ou quadrinho, de algumas frases para uma pequena história completa. Que precisa é ao menos aparecer na tag e ter relação com A1 e as tarefas recentes! (Por favor diga em algum lugar que tarefa se tá fazendo e que dia foi ela)

A1 não tem preferência com o nome ou pronome que você usar — Ai, Aaron, Ivan, só A1, algum outro que se faça — desde que você ainda use a tag dita pra que todo mundo veja que tarefa foi feita. Além de liberdade de pronomes ele tem um armário cheio de acessórios, então por favor deixe claro em algum lugar da sua arte ou história que o ovo é o A1 e não um dos outros.

Sinta-se livre pra incluir você, ou um dos seus personagens, ou um dos membros do QSMP, ou ninguém, ou todo mundo acima. Isso aqui é só uma série de sinopses para desenhar/escrever com um propósito, se solta e se divirta!

Como já é sábado, as tarefas necessárias não vão aparecer até segunda-feira. Depois da revelação, vamos ver por quanto tempo podemos manter a nova criança da comunidade!

French:

Salut les fans du QSMP, j'ai une proposition à vous faire et j'adorerais voir si ça peut devenir concret.

Quitte à adopter A1, sortons le grand jeu. On va s'occuper de cet enfant.

Il faudrait qu'au moins trois fois par semaine, quelqu'un sur Tumblr dessine ou écrive quelque chose où A1 fait au moins l'une des tâches officielles du jour ou de l'un des jours précédents (parce que je sais que dessiner ou écrire, ça prend du temps), et le poste sur le tag "qsmp a1 tasks". Pas besoin de faire quelque chose d'y mettre énormément d'efforts, ça pourrait être n'importe quoi, d'un croquis à une illustration ou BD complète, de quelques phrases à une courte histoire complète, tant que c'est posté dans le tag et que ça a un lien avec A1 et l'une des tâches récentes ! (S'il vous plaît, notez quelque part de quelle tâche vous vous chargez et le jour auquel ça correspond.)

Peu importe quel nom vous utilisez pour A1 (Ai, Aaron, Ivan, juste A1, ou même un tout autre nom), cela ne lea dérange pas tant que vous utilisez le bon tag pour que tout le monde puisse voir qu'une tâche a été accomplie. Iel utilise n'importe quels pronoms et possède toute une galerie d'accessoires, tant, encore une fois, qu'il est clair dans le dessin ou l'histoire qu'il s'agit d'A1 et pas d'un autre œuf.

Sentez-vous libre de vous inclure vous, vos OCs, l'un des membres du QSMP, tous les membres, ou même aucun, ce ne sont qu'une série de prompts de dessin/d'écriture avec un but précis, faites-vous plaisir et amusez-vous bien !

Puisqu'on est déjà samedi, les tâches nécessaires ne compteront pas avant lundi. Après ça, essayons de voir combien de temps la communauté peut maintenir notre nouvel enfant en vie !

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp a1 tasks #qsmp aaron #qsmp ai #art prompt #writing prompt #time to test this social experiment and see how much we've all pack bonded with anything egg-shaped