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21

[kathaelipwse]

The Bang Chan Husband Files | Headcanons

Warnings: Soft!Chan | Domestic fluff | Mild smut references | Overwhelming emotional support | Possible delusions of the perfect man | MDNI Trope: Husband Material™ | Soft Dom!Chan | Acts of Service + Touch Love Language | Overprotective but Gentle | Golden Retriever x Guard Dog hybrid energy

Dates

Thoughtful to the Core: Bang Chan doesn’t just take you on dates—he curates experiences. A picnic with your favorite snacks, a playlist he made just for the mood, fairy lights, and heartfelt conversation is his idea of perfect. Quality Time Lover: He values genuine connection. Watching your favorite movies with takeout and tangled limbs on the couch is his love language. Memory Maker: Keeps old movie tickets, dried flowers, and Polaroids in a memory box. Every anniversary, he shows you how far you’ve come. Surprise Artist: Plans spontaneous bookstore or museum dates where he pretends to be clueless but clearly researched the exhibits beforehand. Homebody at Heart (But For You, He’ll Step Out): Prefers quiet moments at home, but if you want a night out, he puts in effort—clean button-up, styled hair, hand always in yours. Says the Cutest Things: On casual dates, he’ll blurt things like: “I could do this forever with you. This—us.”

Protective

Silent Guardian Energy: He doesn’t need to say much—his stance, his gaze, and the way he subtly moves closer when someone makes you uncomfortable say it all. The “Step-Forward” Move: Whenever you're walking in a crowded place, he gently shifts his body in front of you to shield you, especially from pushy people or stares. Mild Jealousy, Major Control: If someone flirts, he won’t cause a scene. Just leans down and whispers, “Remind me later that you’re mine, yeah?” with that low, playful voice. Always Prepared: Makes you share your location for your safety, and if you don’t respond after a while, he calls—not to scold, but because he’s scared something happened. Protects You From Yourself Too: If you’re overthinking, insecure, or spiraling, he’ll stop everything and say, “You don’t get to talk about someone I love like that.” Gentle Shield: When things overwhelm you, he wraps his arms around you and says, “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Love Language: Acts of Service + Physical Touch

Acts of Service King: He notices the little things you hate doing—laundry, trash, bills—and does them before you can even ask. Fix-It Husband™: Will spend hours figuring out how to assemble something just to make your life easier. You’re always his priority. Can’t Keep His Hands to Himself: Always touching you—thigh squeezes, back rubs while you're cooking, brushing hair from your face. Sleeping Entangled: You wake up with his legs wrapped around yours, his face buried in your neck, and arms locked around your waist. Small, Sweet Gestures: Tucks your hair behind your ear, zips your dress, ties your laces, and kisses your temple like second nature. Handwritten Notes Guy: Leaves sticky notes in your lunch, on your laptop, on the mirror— “You’re stronger than you feel.” “Drink water or I’ll fight you.”

In Fights

When He’s Wrong: Withdraws Out of Guilt: Becomes quiet, not defensive. Hates that he hurt you, even unintentionally. Self-Reflects First: Gives you space so he can cool down, then comes back with a calm, genuine apology. Full Accountability: “You didn’t deserve that. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll do better, I promise.” Physical Apology: Offers a hug—not to escape consequences, but because he needs to feel close while fixing things. Words + Actions: Follows through on change. If the fight was about time, he makes time. If it was about communication, he listens better. Won’t Let You Go to Bed Upset: Even if it’s late, he’ll sit beside you, pinky out, whispering, “I love you. Let’s not sleep angry.” When You’re Wrong: Stays Calm: Doesn’t raise his voice. Just gets quiet and sad, which somehow hurts more. Still Respects You: Doesn’t insult or belittle. Instead, he says things like, “You know I love you, right? But that wasn’t okay.” Clear Boundaries: Tells you how it affected him—but never guilt-trips you. Waits for Your Growth: Won’t rush your apology but also won’t pretend nothing happened. Mature and grounded. Forgives Fully: Once it’s resolved, he doesn’t bring it up again. The past stays in the past. Reaffirms Love: Even in tension, you’ll hear: “I’m still yours. We’re okay, alright?”

Overworking

Workaholic Habits: Gets lost in producing, mixing, fixing—time vanishes until you show up like: “Chris. Have you eaten?” You = His Break Reminder: You have to pry him away with kisses or a snack in your hand, and he’ll act grumpy but follow you. Acts Tough, Is Mush: Once you get him on the couch, he immediately melts into you. Whispers, “You’re the only thing that can stop me, you know that?” When YOU Overwork: He notices. Instantly. Pulls you onto his lap, shuts your laptop, and tells you: “You can’t take care of everything if you burn out. Let me take care of you now.” Midnight Caregiver: If you’re working late, he’ll show up with a drink and rub your shoulders until you give in. Reluctantly Accepts Balance: Tries hard to make time for both his passion and you—because he knows you are his home.

Hypeman

Loudest Cheerleader: Doesn’t matter if you baked bread or landed a promotion—he hypes you like you just won an Oscar. Physical Praise Too: Sees you all dressed up and nearly drops whatever he’s holding: “You can’t be real. I married a goddess.” Social Media Stan: Posts blurry selfies with captions like: “She made me breakfast today. Wife material. Don’t be jealous.” Random Affection Attacks: Walks in, sees you doing dishes, and just hugs you from behind saying, “How are you so amazing all the time?” Annoyingly Obsessed (In the Best Way): Constantly brags about you to the members, staff, strangers. “My wife’s smarter than me. I’m not even ashamed.” Genuinely Inspired by You: Sees you chasing dreams and says, “You make me want to be better. Just by being you.”

In the Bedroom~

King of Build-Up: It always starts slow. Teasing touches, whispered praise, the kind of eye contact that sets your skin on fire. He savors the tension before he breaks it. Voice Gets Deep, Dirty, & Dangerous: When things heat up, his voice drops to a sinful growl—thick with that Aussie accent as he breathes, “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.” Dom But Tender: He’s in control, but not rough unless you want him to be. Holds your wrists gently. His commands sound like worship: “Let me take care of you. Just relax for me, baby.” Obsessed With Your Pleasure: He memorizes what you like, down to the sound you make when he kisses just below your ear. He’s not done until you're shaking and breathless. Eye Contact Demon: Doesn’t look away. He watches every reaction, chases it. And if you close your eyes? “Nah, don’t hide from me. Look at me when you fall apart.” Aftercare Legend: Warm towel. Water. Cuddles. He tucks you into his chest and strokes your hair, whispering, “You did so good. I’ve got you now, angel.”

When You’re on Your Period

Fully Trained, Zero Shame: He’s got the cycle tracked, your cravings memorized, and your go-to comfort movie queued up. “It’s day two, right? I made you soup and cleared the couch.” Zero Ick Factor: Buys pads and tampons without blinking. Talks about cramps and blood like it’s no big deal because it isn’t. “It’s your body being a badass. I respect that.” Snuggle Sandwich Mode: He sandwiches you between pillows and himself, rubbing your belly while muttering sweet things like, “If I could take the pain for you, I would.” On Call for Cravings: Midnight store runs? Done. Heating pad short-circuited? Already replaced. He stocks your favorite snacks before you even realize you want them. Comfort > Everything: Wraps you in his hoodie, tucks a blanket around you, and presses kisses to your temple like medicine. “Let’s just be soft today, baby.” Emotional Anchor: If your emotions spike or you start crying for no reason, he doesn’t flinch. “You don’t have to explain. I’m here. Just cry, I’ll hold you.”

Cooking (He Tries)

Effort 100%, Skill 60%: He watches cooking TikToks like they’re tutorials—but somehow always forgets something important like salt... or timing. Kitchen Chaos King: Expect mess. Flour on his cheeks, three pans going at once, and him muttering, “Why is it burning? I just looked away for two seconds!” Minho = Lifeline: Minho is his emergency contact during culinary crises. “Bro, she’s gonna wake up and the eggs are still moving. Help me.” Plates Like a Masterchef Contestant: No matter how it turns out, he garnishes with herbs, arranges the food perfectly, and says, “Bon appétit, my queen.” Needs Validation Desperately: He watches you chew like his life depends on it. “Do you hate it? Is it edible? Be honest. No, wait—lie to me. Just say it’s amazing.” Laughter Over Perfection: Even if the food’s mid, the love behind it makes it the best meal ever. And when you laugh at his mess, he grins and says, “Hey, at least I made you smile, yeah?”

When He’s Jealous

Silent but Deadly™ Jealousy: He doesn’t lash out—he broods. His jaw clenches, he goes quiet, and suddenly he’s glued to your side with his arm tight around your waist. Subtle Territorial Moves: Starts calling you “baby” louder than usual. Leans in to whisper things like, “You’re mine, yeah? Just so we’re clear.”—right when someone’s clearly checking you out. Polite but Frosty to the Offender™: He won’t be rude… unless the other guy really pushes. Then it’s a low-toned, “You need something, mate?” with the faintest smile and the darkest eyes. Pulls You Close Later: At home, he’ll kiss your shoulder and mutter, “I know it’s dumb, but I hate the idea of someone else looking at you like I do.” Jealous, Then Insecure: The moment fades and guilt kicks in. “You’re with me… but sometimes I wonder if you could do better.” Cue you reassuring him for 10 straight minutes. Jealousy-Fueled Spiciness™: …And then he kisses you like he’s proving something. “Mine. Say it.” (You're not complaining.)

When You Have Random Baby Fever

Soft Panic + Adoration™: The second you say “That baby is so cute,” he chokes on air and gives you a side glance like, “Wait. Are we doing this? Now?” Sudden Overthinking Mode: “Okay but… what if the kid gets your stubbornness and my insomnia? That’s chaos in a diaper.” Would Still Be the Best Dad™: Even while fake-panicking, he’s already imagining your future kid curled up on his chest. “Imagine if they had your eyes though… damn. I’m doomed.” Soft Daydreaming Moments: If he sees you holding a baby? He melts. Later whispers, “You’d be such a good mom. Like… you already take care of me.” Baby Fever Hits Him Too: One random night while brushing his teeth, he mumbles, “So… what if we had two? A girl and a boy?” Like sir. Calm down. “Practice” Time: “Wanna practice being a parent? Starting with… bedtime?” —And suddenly you forget about the baby and remember why Chan needs supervision.

Gaming Nights with the Boys (When You Call)

Hyper-Focused Gamer Mode: Headset on, yelling at Changbin about a grenade throw, fully immersed—until he sees your name light up his phone. Instant Soft Switch™: “Yo, pause—she’s calling.” Drops the controller mid-match just to answer with, “Hey, baby. You okay?” “Y/N Gets Priority” Rule: If it’s not an emergency but you want cuddles or food, he’s already logging off. “The game’ll be here tomorrow. She won’t sleep without me.” Boys Clown Him, But Respect It: Seungmin: “Whipped.” Chan: “Yeah. And?” Sneaks You Into the Headset: He’ll say, “Wanna say hi to the guys?” and hold the mic up for you. The boys greet you like you’re part of the crew already. Post-Game Snuggles Required: As soon as he’s off, he beelines to you on the couch, wraps his arms around you, and mumbles, “Missed you. Even if it was just two hours.”

Sick!Reader (Bang Chan as Caregiver)

Immediately Takes Over: The moment he hears you’re not feeling well, Chan’s brain switches into “nurturing mode.” He’s dropping everything—work, plans, socializing. You come first. “I’m canceling everything. You’re more important than any meeting.” The Ultimate Comforter™: Chan will text you all day long to check in. If you’re running a fever, he’ll cool down your skin with a cold compress, gently rubbing your temples and whispering, “You’re gonna be okay, baby. I’m right here.” Spoiling You with Comfort Food: He’s in the kitchen, whipping up soup (which is admittedly a bit burnt, but made with so much care). “I made this for you, baby. It’s not Michelin star, but it’s full of love.” Guilt Trip Chan™: If you try to say you’re okay when you’re clearly not, he gets a little pouty. “Baby, I told you to rest. You’re going to make me worry even more if you keep getting up like this.” He’ll gently push you back onto the couch, ready to pamper you some more. Cuddles & Rest: When you need sleep, he’s there, either lying with you or making sure you’re cozy. “I’m gonna stay here. You can sleep, and I’ll be right by your side.” He’s a giant teddy bear, making sure you’re not alone. He might even nap with you. “Tell Me What You Need” Mode: If you feel guilty for being “a burden,” he’ll reassure you with, “You’re never a burden. I love taking care of you. You’re my everything.” Even if he’s secretly a little tired, his focus is entirely on you and your recovery.

Anniversaries with Bang Chan

Memory Keeper™: For your anniversary, he remembers every little detail. He’ll bring up your first date, the first time you held hands, and how the two of you grew together. “You remember that day we stayed up all night talking? I’ll never forget that.” Romantic Surprise Planner: Chan doesn’t just get you flowers. He surprises you with a carefully planned day, like a picnic at your favorite park or a movie marathon of all the films you’ve talked about watching together. “I got the perfect spot ready. Thought we’d watch the sunset first.” Gifts with Meaning: He’s not the type to just buy a gift off the shelf. Everything he gets you has meaning. A necklace? It has a charm that represents a moment you both shared. A book? It's something you both love or something that holds sentimental value. “This is from the day we... It’s just a little reminder that every moment with you counts.” Sweet Love Notes: Chan’s a sucker for writing handwritten notes or love letters on anniversaries. He’ll leave them where you’ll find them—tucked in your bag, under your pillow, in your favorite book. “For every year, for every moment. I’ll love you more each day.” Anniversary “Us” Time: He loves nothing more than a quiet, intimate day with you. Even if the world is chaotic around you, he cherishes these peaceful moments with just the two of you. “No need to make it extravagant. Just you, me, and a whole lot of love.” Anniversary Reflections: Chan’s the type to reflect deeply on the year, especially when it comes to your relationship. At the end of the day, he’ll pull you close, whisper, “Look at how far we’ve come. I can’t wait to see what the next year holds for us.”

Jealous!Reader (Chan's Response to His "Jealous" Reader)

Instant Reassurance™: When you show signs of jealousy—whether it’s through an offhand comment or by getting possessive—Chan’s first instinct is to reassure you, showering you with affection. “You don’t have to worry about anyone but you. You’re the one I want. Always.” He’ll emphasize that your place in his life is irreplaceable. Gentle Confidence: Even if he sees you feeling a little insecure, he won’t let you feel inferior. He’ll gently touch your cheek, make eye contact, and say something sweet like, “I only have eyes for you. No one could ever compare to you, no matter what.” Playful Jealousy Back™: If he notices you getting jealous, he’ll tease you—flirting even more, giving you a taste of your own medicine. He’ll act like he’s enjoying the attention, just to make you a little crazy. “Oh, you want to fight for me? I guess I am pretty irresistible.” But it’s all in good fun, just to remind you that he’s the one who gets to claim your attention. Exclusively Yours™: He has no problem showing the world who you belong to. Whether it’s holding your hand in public or showing affection in front of others, Chan’s constant gestures say: “Yeah, she’s mine. And I’m proud of it.” Jealous? He’ll Handle It. If someone really crosses the line with you, Chan steps up in a way that’s both protective and respectful. “Hey, you got a problem with her? Take it up with me.” He won’t let anyone disrespect you, no matter how big or small the offense. Post-Jealousy Cuddles: After any jealousy moment, he’ll always come back to you with an extra dose of affection. He’ll cuddle you, whispering into your ear, “You’re all I want, baby. No one else comes close.”

When He’s Flirty

Innuendo Master™: Chan is full of playful comments that make you blush, like, “I’d say I’m not the jealous type… but if I was, you’d be the only one I’d be jealous of.” Teasing Touches: His hands are always close—resting on your lower back, brushing against your arm, or gently tugging you closer whenever you’re talking to someone else. The Whisper Game™: He’ll lean in close when you’re out in public and whisper something flirtatious in your ear, “You look so good, I might just have to take you home early.” His voice drops to that low, smooth tone that leaves you blushing. Proud Smirks: Whenever he catches you looking at him, he’ll send you a knowing, playful look, as if saying, “I know you’re thinking about me.” Subtle Challenges™: He’ll challenge you to make him blush or make him lose his cool, but deep down, he loves watching you try.

When the reader turns Chan on while he's away on tour~

Sultry Voice Notes™ While he’s away, you send him voice notes that are full of playful teasing and hints. You’ll whisper something like, “I miss you so much… I wish you were here to kiss me right now…” The low tone of your voice and the suggestiveness leave him desperately trying to keep his composure, especially during interviews or rehearsals. Spicy Texts™ You know just how to get under his skin—sending him texts with cheeky comments like, “I bet I’d look good on my knees for you right now…” or “I’ve been imagining how you’ll hold me when you get back…” The words hit him like a punch to the gut, making his thoughts drift away from his setlist or the choreography. He’ll be left biting his lip, trying not to blush when he reads them during breaks. Teasing Photos™ While he’s stuck in a hotel room or on the tour bus, you send him a photo of yourself in something that drives him wild—maybe it’s something you know he loves you in, like a cute but revealing outfit or you lying on the bed in your lingerie. He can’t stop staring at it, fighting the urge to touch himself while he's stuck on tour. “You know what you do to me, right?” he’ll text back, trying to focus on his performance but clearly distracted. Subtle Flirty Videos™ You send him a video of yourself, maybe something simple like you cooking dinner or getting dressed for the day, but you make sure to be extra flirty. A slow motion walk past the camera, a wink, or the way you bite your lip in the middle of your sentence will completely mess with his focus. He’ll be replaying that video on loop, trying to hide his reactions from the other guys. Erotic Daydreaming™ During an off-day or in-between interviews, you know exactly how to turn him on. You send a message saying, “I’ve been thinking about what I want to do to you when you get home… I can’t wait to have you in my arms and show you just how much I missed you…” It’ll catch him off-guard, making his heart race, palms sweat, and thoughts go straight to how he wants to have you when he returns. The Promise of What’s to Come™ You’ll make playful, suggestive promises like, “I’ll let you make up for all the teasing when you get home…” knowing how badly he’ll want to make those words come to life. It’s not just what you’re saying—it’s the anticipation of finally being alone together again. When he reads those texts, he can’t help but imagine all the ways he’ll take control once he's back with you.

-- The End --

[ultrastarbee]

medic!reader x bonten!rindou established relationship. everyone knows theyre dating but they both keep it professional when theyre working in bonten headquarters. except for when rindou misses his little nurse and asks ran to punch him so that he has an excuse to go to the infirmary. mikey finds out and literally kicks haitani out of the infirmary with a kick to the ass.

.. but rindou comes back because his ass hurts and needs care for his ass bruise… oops .. -🎀

I had to pick up my own ass after laughing it off with this request. This one is sooo good! Keep them coming 🎀, you are feeding my manic time (and my blog, god knows I need more requests). I'm also working on a fucked up Kazutora x reader (will be long) and also working on Queen of Hearts sequel, but your requests are so good I write them as fast as I see them. I am a funny lady today and I will enjoy it while this mood lasts

Title: Bright red ass Request: YES Couple: Rindou x g.n!reader Category: Funny Content Warning: Word Count: 439 Summary: you work for Bonten and you take your job as their private doctor serious, but your boyfriend Rindou has his ways to be around you A/N: this is too funny and Sanzu shines again, as well as Rin's ass

MASTERLIST ....... RULES ....... SERIES LIST

Under Koko's advice for Mikey to get them a private doctor you were hired after lots of recomendations from the Haitani brothers who knew you since childhood. Koko's deal was too good to be true, so you accepted it without even thinking. You make more money in a month than you would make in a whole year at the hospital and your job is way more simple now. Yes, sometimes one of them shows up with a bullet or two on their bodies or you need to help Sanzu out, hell they even make you sign some drug prescription for Koko's headaches (who happens because of Bonten anyway), but it's pretty chill.

There's a problem, though. In the past few days Rindou is showing up at the room you use way more often. First there was a bruise on his back, then a cut at his lips and now he is getting out of your infirmary after had a cut cleaned and kissed better. Of course Rindou has special treatment, but he is showing up too much now. You were worried about it, so you leave your room to ask Ran if there's something going on with Rindou.

As soon as you step at the main hall you hear the brothers talking. "This time on the face, Ran" Rindou closes his eyes waiting for the punch. "I won't punch your face out of the blue" Ran laughs off. "I will" Sanzu simply pops up throwing a punch over Rindou's face. Sanzu is strong and doesn't hold back, so now Rindou is down the floor with a bloody nose. "Thanks" Rindou shows him a tumb up.

You exchange a look with Mikey, who had left his office to look for some sweet. Your boss is looking disgusted at his men, but Mikey don't say a word.

Going back to the infirmary room you are soon followed by Rindou with his bloody nose.

"Got on a hard fight, love" Rindou's voice is playful as he sits over a chair under the light.

"Go back to your job, moron" Mikey comes after Rindou and as he stands up to explain what's happening to his boss Mikey is sure to kick his ass to the other room.

"Are you fucking with our medical supplies again? This shit is expansive" Koko's voice comes from the hall where Rindou is now laying on the ground.

The thing is Mikey's kicks are always destructive, so now you have Rindou's ass up as you tend to his bruises. You are sure to give him a small smack on the ass as soon as you finish the care.

[chateaaa]

Lover - Tokyo Revengers

❝ tokyo revengers and their callsigns ❞

mikey - babe

baji - misis ko

inui - darling

koko - honey

mitsuya - love

izana - mahal

kakucho - baby

ran - princess

rindou - sweetie

hanma - doll

misis ko - my wife

mahal - love

[katamarii-cousin]

island in the sun | rindou haitani x female reader

I am currently writing a longer fic for Rin and wrote this whole scene out that I'm not sure fits the vibe of the fic now...soooo it can be just a short little smutty Rin drabble or sneak peak depending on how the plot evolves ;) <3

summary: Rin can't control himself seeing your tan lines. Honestly this is very self indulgent

rating / warnings / tags: explicit sexual content, beach sex, quickie, rin has a thing for tan lines, from his POV

Okinawa was the closest thing the brothers had to a second home outside of Roppongi. Whenever they could disappear, they disappeared there. Ran had connections, knew someone with an obscene house that sat on a beach that was private enough that they could go days without seeing other life on the island.

The moment they got there it was like the world outside of the island ceased to exist. Vacation mode on, Ran lulled to sleep by the sound of crashing waves, her soaking up every ray of sunlight the world had to offer, Rin catching every wave he could, letting the salt water wash away his anxieties.

It was the most free Rin had felt in years.

He had gone into the water to clear his head and came out feeling refreshed, the sun already drying his shoulders by the time he reached the shore. He stood at the water's edge, shaking the excess water out of his hair, watching her stretched out on the beach exactly where he left her.

Five days in the Okinawa sun had deepened the color of her skin, leaving lighter strips where her bikini straps had been. He noticed them the day before and couldn’t stop thinking about them, something about the contrast on her skin had been driving him quietly insane.

He crouched beside her, trailing his fingers up the back of her thigh, going up over the curve of her ass, lightly dancing up her spine, before pressing a kiss into her shoulder. 

“Having a nice nap?” he murmured against her skin.

She turned her head, eyeing him suspiciously, “What are you up to now?”

“Nothing.” He kissed her neck. “You’ve gotten so tan.”

She dropped her face back into her arms. “I’m busy relaxing, go back in the water.”

He trailed his fingers along the strap across her back, hooking his finger under, pulling it taut and letting it snap back against her skin.

“Rin!” She twisted to look at him, half laughing half annoyed, “What was that for?”

“No reason.” he was already untying the bow on her back, undoing it slowly while she tried to swat him away.

He flipped her over once he managed to get it undone, got her legs around his hips, trapping her underneath him while she fought to stifle her laughter, blinking up at him in the sun. 

He was still wet, hair dripping onto her warm skin.

She wrinkled her nose. “Rin, you’re getting me wet–”

“God, I hope so.” he smirked.

She stared at him, then rolled her eyes, “What is wrong with you.”

He was already reaching up to push her bikini top aside. Uncovering the tan lines on her chest. The untouched skin meeting the warm afternoon light and something in him completely short circuited.

He groaned somewhat helplessly at the sight and heard her laugh under him.

“Rin–”

He ran his thumbs over her slowly, felt her nipples harden under his touch, the laughter dying in her throat as her breath caught and stuttered.

“God Rin, we’re outside–”

He bent down and licked across her nipple and she gasped hard.

“Oh my god, Rin–” she squirmed beneath his hold.

“Shhh.” He kissed across to the other side slowly. “Ran’s asleep.”

She tried to protest until he grazed his teeth over her forcing her to swallow the noise trying to escape her.

He kissed down her chest, her stomach, taking his time, the salt on her skin against his tongue, her stomach rising and falling faster under his mouth, breath getting shorter every second that passed. 

He reached the waistband of her bikini bottoms and dipped his fingers under, pulling the fabric down enough to reveal the little pale patch of skin just below her tanned stomach,and pressed his lips there.

“Your tan lines drive me insane,” he said in between kisses.

He let his hand drift lower, over the fabric, fingers dancing lightly over her through the thin material.

“Rin.” Her voice was unsteady now, “what if someone sees.”

He kept his gaze locked onto her as he slid his thumb under the side of the fabric, pressing a slow circle directly against her. Her breath completely left her.

“No one will.” He cooed, keeping the pressure there, watching her try to keep still and quiet. “It’s a private beach and besides…we can be quick.” He grinned down at her.

She let out a small breathy laugh, her hips shifting against his hand wanting more. He moved his hand to pull her bottoms to the side, feeling just how worked up he’d already gotten her. He pushed his shorts down enough to free himself, stroking himself slowly while looking at her - spread out in front of him, bronzed and trembling slightly.

He rubbed against her slowly, until neither of them could stand it anymore, finally pressing into her.

“God,” she breathed and tipped her head back on the towel.

“Shhh.” He was smiling, held himself there watching her face, completely unbothered by how badly she was already squirming. “You’re gonna get us caught if you keep doing that”

She squinted at him ready to make a snarky remark but choked on her words as he pushed all the way into her at the same moment. Her back arched immediately, a sound escaping her she couldn’t catch in time.

“You’re such a di– ahhh–”

He pulled almost all the way out and snapped his hips back into her, watching her face contort, her words dissolving into mewls. “Sorry what was that, sweetheart?” He smirked and huffed a laugh, entirely too pleased with himself.

He stilled for just a moment, taking in the sight, dropping his head to her ear. “You have no idea,” he said quietly, “how fucking sexy you look right now.” He pulled back and drove his hips hard into her again, feeling her gasping on his neck. 

She clenched around him and he had to stop speaking for a second, letting out a rough exhale. “Fuck, baby.” The sun on his back, the breeze cooling the water on his skin, her under him looking at him like that, it was almost too much.

He gripped her hip harder, pace quickening. She pulled him closer, one hand twisted in his damp hair, the other gripping his arm hard enough to leave marks, small helpless noises escaping her every time his hips moved against hers.

He could feel her getting close - her breathing was shallower, grip tightening in his hair. He trailed one hand down between their bodies, fingers finding her again and began pressing slow, steady patterns into her.

“Jesus, Rin–” her hips bucked under him.

She had nowhere to go. His weight holding her down while his hand never letting up. The desperate sounds she was making, the sight of her face, it all nearly undid him right there.

“Rin–” her voice cracked. “Rin rin rin please–”

He didn’t let up, “Come for me, baby”

Her back arched up hard, chest pressing into his, her whole body tightening as her orgasm tore through her, clenching around him so hard and suddenly that he lost the last thread of control he was holding onto.

He came with her, a groan tearing out of him as he buried his face into her neck, holding her tight through it - her body still trembling under his - until neither of them could move.

He slipped out of her slowly, glanced down between them and couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” she asked, chest still heaving.

He was grinning, breathless, looking at the state of her. “I made a mess of you, again.”

She groaned and put her arm over her face, blocking out him and the sun, he laughed again leaning down to pepper kisses on her while she tried to not smile.

He pulled his shorts back up, then before she could fully process what was happening, he scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder.

“Rin– oh my god, Rin, no–”

“Cleanup time.”

“No Rin, it’s so cold–”

He carried her down to the water, laughing the whole way, her shrieking and kicking, failing to free herself before he jumped into the water.

She came up gasping, soaked, swatting at him. He caught both her wrists, still laughing and pulled her against him, kissing her.

“You’re so annoying,” she said, teasing.

“What can I say, you drive me wild.” He pushed her wet hair back from her face, thumb brushing her cheek, kissing her again. He pulled back, his voice losing all trace of teasing and held her face in both hands, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my life.”

She went still for a second then smiled. “Me neither.”

[biiiskirraaa]

eyes up here !

where skz members send you a text, but what you see is more than meets the eyes (or abs)

hyung line only

maknae line here (screw u tumblr)

im baaaaaaaaaaaaack

bangchan

leeknow

changbin

hyunjin

[catchymemes]

[my-dailydreams]

[goth-queen]

Goddess of Depression by Victor Nazarenko

[dynameow]

Hii! Do you know about that one trend where "asking my partner permition to eat" in public or with their parents, now imagine reader doing this to bakugo infront of mitsuki

She would beat up his ass LMAO

PERMISSION ✶ FT. BAKUGOU KATSUKI

── ✶ before you read: 1k words ; fem reader ; established relationship ; mitsuki and masaru are good parents ; katsuki has an aneurysm (almost) ; masterlist.

꒰ commentary ꒱ ✶ ANON YOU ARE TOO FUNNY FOR THIS ASK LMAOOO

“Kats, am I allowed to order a drink, too?” You whisper. “This one seems good. It’s okay if I can’t, though.”

Katsuki stiffens, turning to you in disbelief. The waitress pauses. Mitsuki raises a brow. Masaru looks up from the menu in concern.

“What the fuck do you mean allowed—what…what are you talkin’ about?”

“Am I allowed to get it?” You ask, like it’s a simple question. You give him a confused look before you add, “I don’t want to order too much and then upset you.”

The waitress gives him a look from the corner of her eyes. It’s a nasty look if you’ve ever seen one, and coupled by Mitsuki’s eyes narrowing at her son, you have to fight every bone in your body not to laugh.

“Did your head get knocked loose?” He does a double take. “Why the fuck would I be upset? You…okay, you know what,” he turns to the waitress, already having enough of your antics, and says, “add a large drink to that, please.”

“A large drink, got it,” she nods slowly, jotting it down. “How generous of you.”

You bite your lip when he stares after her incredulously as she walks away. And as soon as the waitress is gone, he has another problem just waiting.

You start, “Thanks for letting me get a drink today—”

“And just what do you mean let?!” Mitsuki cuts in, staring between you and her son.

You blink at her with your best innocent look. (One good thing about making it your lifelong hobby to get under Katsuki’s skin is that you’ve learned you’re very good at the innocent look. Exceedingly good.)

“Well, I mean, I know how he feels about me ordering things, so I just wanted to check that it was okay—”

“Hah!? What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” Katsuki stares. “How do I feel about you ordering things?”

You shrug sheepishly, feigning, to your credit, a very convincingly nervous look. “I just didn’t want to upset you.”

The look on Masaru’s face twists immediately to heartbreak—like he can’t believe his son would turn out this way. Meanwhile, Mitsuki’s eyes narrow into dangerous slits. Katsuki waves a hand gesturing at you in shock as if to ask, are you seeing this? as he stares at his parents helplessly.

“She’s messin’ around, I swear, she always does this—”

“Katsuki.”

“Don’t Katsuki me—I haven’t done anything!”

“You know,” Masaru says carefully, eyeing his son in disappointment, “sometimes people don’t realize they’re behaving a certain way until there are signs. But we have to look at the signs for what they are, son.”

“Dad—”

“No, let me finish.” Masaru holds up a hand. “You’re supposed to be equals in a relationship. If she’s worried about upsetting you over something as simple as ordering a drink, maybe you should ask yourself why she feels that way.”

“Because she’s insane!”

“Katsuki!” Mitsuki hisses, pointing a finger at him as she says, “don’t call her that! The only reason for that is because you’re driving her crazy—look at her! The poor thing! She’s shaking over there, and it’s because of you!”

“She’s not shakin’ for shit! Look—look at her! She’s fighting back a fuckin’ smug little look on her face because she’s—”

Mitsuki suddenly reaches across the table and catches him by the ear. “What have I told you about making girls feel respected, huh? This is why they’ve never liked you! And now one finally does and you’re scaring her off?”

“Ow—you fucking hag!”

She gives his ear a sharp tug. “Language.”

“Ow! Let go, you old—”

You look up innocently, “Please don’t scold him, he’ll be in a bad mood when we get home.”

Mitsuki yanks his ear harder at that, steam practically pouring from her own ears, and Masaru holds a hand to his chin in deep, concerned thought.

“Just what happens at home when it’s just the two of you, huh? Why is she scared about what’ll happen when you’re home?!”

“Nothing! Literally fuckin’ nothing, she terrorizes me at home, if anything! Look with your eyes, you old hag!”

Finally taking mercy on him, you chuckle, reaching over to ruffle Katsuki’s hair. He gives you a nasty side glare, but it softens just a smidge when you lean into his side and kiss his cheek.

“I was only kidding,” you beam at Mitsuki, “I just wanted to make him sweat a bit.”

She looks at you with a cautious gaze, her fingers still tightly wrapped around Katsuki’s poor (and red) earlobe as she asks, “Are you sure you’re not just protecting him?”

“Oh don’t worry,” you hum, patting your boyfriend’s chest as he shakes his head in irritation, “you’d be the first to know if he acts even the slightest bit out of line.”

“I never get a chance to be out of line, cause you’re the bossiest—”

Just then, the waitress arrives with your drinks. She sets yours down first. “Here you go, honey.” Then she places Katsuki’s down. The sour look she gives him could practically curdle milk. “Sir.”

Katsuki stares after her as she walks off, and you giggle as you pinch his cheek affectionately. “We should come back here next week, huh baby?”

“Yeah, if my face isn’t on a wanted poster at the door,” he grumbles under his breath.

You reach over with a cheeky grin, grabbing his drink and taking a sip before taking another from your own glass. After a moment of contemplating, you hum, “I like your drink better. I’m taking it. Here—” you slide him yours as you pull his own glass to your side of the table. “You take that one.”

He turns to his mother and waves a hand. “See?! She terrorizes me!”

“I’m not seeing a problem,” she says, giving him a less than impressed look. “All I’m seeing is a poor girl finally realizing her worth after dealing with your nonsense.”

He slumps into his seat, giving up, and you lean your head onto his shoulder, beaming up at him victoriously as he gives you a tired look. (And, much to your pride, you know are getting very, exceedingly good at getting under Katsuki’s skin—it’s a hobby you’re quite talented at.)

[grenadehearts]

꒰ 💌 mdni. kirishima won’t let his shy girl look away during missionary. . . ꒱ ⸝⸝ .ᐟ

kirishima won’t let you look away, tangled within his muscular frame, all sweaty limbs and breathless gasps wrapped up in pure ecstasy. his body hovers above yours, casting shadows in the dim light spilling through the loose curtains and cool evening air. the sweet smell of vanilla wafts through the room, soft ribbons of smoke curling lazily from the incense he had lit only moments prior.

kirishima always makes sure the moment is sensual, wrapped in a lovesick haze—he’s a very romantic man at heart. and he holds yours with large, calloused hands adorned with various scars that trail up his arms, across his back, and toward his chest like inked medals, tributes to his life as a hero—a man very much capable of violence, yet all soft lips and hushed reassurance when he’s buried beneath the covers with you. his favorite place, he thinks. tucked away with you, lapping at your spoils, while you squirm beneath him, all pretty whimpers and trembling limbs.

the head of his cock traces your slick folds slowly, your pussy aching for his girth to finally stuff your needy hole full. his voice is low, a rasp that settles warm against your skin. you’re feverish underneath him, body practically molded to his, the way he keeps you close. voice rough yet it holds a softness reserved only for you, he’s demanding too—every time you squirm or let your gaze drift to the ceiling, nerves curling tight in your chest during this intimate, overwhelming moment.

“look at me.” he says it like a mantra with such authority that it only makes the wetness between your thighs pool further, the ache inside you growing louder. you shake your head weakly, but his cock pushes through your entrance now, your hole greedily welcoming him, swallowing him down to the base. he’s warm inside you, full in a way that sends a rushing sensation rushing through your body. you need him to move, need him to fuck you dizzy.

“mphm, kiri i need you to mo—”

he thrusts once, rutting his hips into you slowly—just enough to graze your sweet spot, sending a rush of white-hot pleasure through your body, before stilling almost immediately.

“like that?” he asks, voice strained, and you can tell it’s taking everything in him not to keep going.

his grin is wild, sharp, shark-like teeth glinting as the edges of his lips curl cruelly. he waits, blood-red eyes fixed on you, and even through the haze of lust you can feel the weight of his stare.

he’s waiting for you to cave.

you know he won’t give in until you look at him.

despite the urge to curl away and hide, you slowly turn, your eyes catching the velvet softness hidden within his stare. your heart—the very organ tasked with keeping you alive—beats so rapidly you fear it may give one final pump and finally surrender as you weakly meet his devoted gaze.

his soul seems to brim in the irises of his eyes, to spill from the pads of his fingertips—the same ones that catch your jaw the moment you falter and turn away again, burying yourself in the plush pillow where the faint scent of lilies lingers in the fabric from the detergent you’d washed it with.

his touch is warm as he cups your jaw, fingers pressing gently into your skin, thumb tracing idly over the softness of your bottom lip.

“look at me, i wanna see that pretty face.”

your cheeks bloom a deep red under his honeyed words. “shut up, you’re so dumb,” you mutter, completely flustered, shoving his hand away—but it only makes him chuckle. his face drops into the crook of your shoulder, deep crimson locks spilling forward, bangs falling into his eyes before he brushes them aside. he looks slightly disheveled, completely open for you.

his thumb presses against your lips before slipping past them, kneading gently at your gums as a boyish grin spreads across his face. “you’re so cute. you have no reason to be shy, baby… just keep looking at me, hm?” he murmurs. when he pulls his thumb free, saliva glistens along the pad of it. you bite down lightly, leaving behind faint marks from your teeth.

“she bites,” he says, something wild flickering across his expression.

his hands find yours, fingers interlacing as he pins them above your head, hips rocking into you with a steady, building rhythm. your eyes stay locked on him, both of you slick with heat, the sounds of him filling you echoing in the tight space between you. his thrusts turn fast, erratic—until he slows just enough to drag against your g-spot, chasing the way your breath stutters at the curve of him.

his forehead falls against yours, maroon strands spilling around you both like a curtain shielding you from the world outside your windows. one hand slips free to cup your face, thumb tracing soft circles into your skin. kirishima’s lips find yours again, his tongue brushing along the seam of your mouth, asking—before taking. you melt into him, breaths tangled, shared, stolen, given back all at once, inhaling each other’s oxygen, greedily consuming it. a perfect depiction of love.

his other hand leaves yours, drifting lower, finding the swollen bud of your clit. he rubs slow, light circles—barely there—but paired with the heat of his mouth, the wet press of his tongue, and the steady thrust of his cock, it’s enough to make your thighs shake. he smells like warm cedarwood and clean soap, layered with something faintly musky and lived-in, like he’s just stepped out of training, and it clings to him in a way that’s completely intoxicating—you’re drunk off his scent.

his movements falter just slightly, hips stuttering as your body tightens around him, pulsing.

“fuck…” he breathes, pulling back just enough to look at you. “she’s gripping me.”

his forehead presses harder to yours, almost too much. “you feel so good… look so pretty when you finish on my cock, my sweet baby,” he coos.

your nails dig into his broad back, crescent marks forming as you cling to him.

“gonna spill,” he mutters under his breath.

you wrap your legs tighter around him, pulling him deeper, refusing to let go. he glances down at you, breath catching, a half-laugh breaking free.

“you’re sure you don’t want me to pu—”

you only tighten your hold, thighs squeezing his torso.

he laughs, breathless, grin sharp and besotted with fondness, “greedy girl.”

꒰ྀི১ ໒꒱ིྀ masterlist - kofi - emergency comm info!

@tokkushin pushing the shy!gf agenda (≧◡≦) ♡ !!

note : i may have went overboard with the detail but i really hope u guys can feel the intimacy i was trying to portray. . i listened to cinderella by mac miller while writing this and i love that song sigh. reblogs, likes and comments are so appreciated and make my day 🫶

taglist : @xoxojisu @esilek @candiiee @cvnt4him @panchikogirlfriend @lotusstarr @cupkiki @3lenaatvt @badslittlemuffin @dreamcastgirl99 @wonubby @dienamiight @sofi4dsam @kawaiiclubdaily @therefore-evermore @luckybibucky @changkyunnnie @twoplayergaymers @izutwos @doubelieveme @ivankinnieclatter @roronoafushiguroaratakahakari @green-orange-bloom @sparklylanddetective @lem-hhn @gaige312 @ryobaby @hrts4cupid @buuxbear @b00rants @v4mp1r3b4tzz @trilxogyyy @loveergirll @searchingfornothinggg @megumisrighttoe @rarebambi @vitya124 @sogmarizzler @lilfluffybunny @dreamyreadinglover @nonokoo @yxo7 @sunnyfieldsz @ludmiig @azizxxxah @lun3z take a look at this post to be added, or removed!

[omiebee]

۶ৎ The Lover Effect!

۶ৎ auth: <3

۶ৎ Summary: The boyfriend effect; you adopt your boyfriends mannerisms. However, the girlfriend effect, they adopt what you do.

۶ৎ: drabbles | gender neutral reader | fluff

۶ৎ Characters Included: Manjiro “Mikey” Sano, Ken “Draken” Ryuguji, Keisuke Baji, Chifuyu Matsuno, Kazutora Hanemiya, Izana Kurokawa, Nahoya “Smiley” Kawata, Souya “Angry” Kawata, Takashi Mitsuya, Hajime Kokonoi

۶ৎ Manjiro “Mikey” Sano

• Style Upgrade: Starts wearing cleaner, more polished outfits. He never cared much before, but now his clothes are less wrinkled, and he smells faintly of vanilla and fresh laundry.

• Emotional Maturity: Slowly learns to communicate better, though he still struggles with opening up completely. Your patience teaches him that being vulnerable doesn’t mean weakness.

• Healthier Habits: Starts eating more than just junk food because you remind him he needs proper meals.

—

Mikey sat on the couch, legs sprawled, watching you move around the kitchen. He had a plate of curry in front of him—a meal you made, light on the spice because he hated too much heat.

“Y’know,” he mumbled between bites, “I don’t even like curry that much.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So why’s the plate almost empty?”

“Dunno.” He shrugged, looking away. But you caught it—the tiniest smile tugging at his lips. “It just tastes better when you make it.”

۶ৎ Ken “Draken” Ryuguji

• Style Upgrade: His hair stays neat, and he’s more mindful of keeping his tank tops clean. He even switches to cologne instead of relying on the scent of motor oil.

• Ambition Boost: Becomes more serious about expanding the shop because he wants stability for the future.

• Better Communication: He starts explaining his feelings more instead of bottling them up, thanks to your influence.

—

Draken stood beside his bike, wiping the grease off his hands. You watched him, arms crossed, eyes narrowing slightly.

“What?” He smirked, but there was a softness in his eyes.

“Did you… clean the garage?”

He shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “Thought it was about time. Can’t have you breathing in dust every time you come around.”

You tilted your head. “Since when do you care about dust?”

“Since you started coming by.” His voice was quieter now, almost shy. “Can’t have my lover dealin’ with all that.”

۶ৎ Keisuke Baji

• Style Upgrade: He still wears his leather jacket, but now it’s less ripped, and his boots aren’t caked in mud. He’ll never admit it, but he likes when you compliment how he looks.

• Healthier Habits: He cuts back on junk food (a little) because you nag about it.

• Emotional Maturity: Learns not to blow up when things go wrong, trying to stay calm because he knows you hate yelling.

—

Baji leaned against his bike, arms crossed, waiting for you after class. His usual wild grin softened when he spotted you.

“Yo.” He handed you a drink, your favorite.

“Since when do you remember what I like?” You teased, taking a sip.

“Since I started actually listening,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t make a big deal outta it, okay?”

But the way his eyes lingered on you a little longer than usual? That said everything.

۶ৎ Chifuyu Matsuno

• Style Upgrade: He switches from mismatched outfits to more coordinated ones—sometimes even matching your color palette without realizing it.

• Ambition Boost: Becomes more serious about managing the pet shop, thinking about the long-term future.

• Better Communication: Learns to be more honest about his feelings, not just brushing things off.

—

Chifuyu stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his hoodie. You leaned against the doorframe, watching with an amused smile.

“New fit?”

“Uh… yeah.” He glanced at you, cheeks flushing slightly. “Figured I should stop looking like I just threw on whatever I found.”

You stepped closer, fingers brushing over his sleeve. “Trying to impress someone?”

“Maybe.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but the look in his eyes told you exactly who.

۶ৎ Kazutora Hanemiya

• Style Upgrade: Starts wearing softer colors because you told him he looked good in them.

• Healthier Habits: He’s more mindful of sleeping enough and eating better because you’re always worried about him.

• Emotional Maturity: Learns to control his impulsive outbursts, wanting to be a calmer version of himself for you.

—

Kazutora sat beside you, his head resting on your shoulder as you scrolled through your phone.

“Hey,” you murmured, “you’ve been quiet.”

“Just… thinking.” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

“About what?”

“About how… I’m lucky you stuck around.” His fingers brushed lightly against yours, his grip hesitant. “I’m trying, y’know? To be… better.”

And he was.

۶ৎ Izana Kurokawa

• Style Upgrade: Starts paying more attention to how he looks, favoring neutral tones that complements your outfits.

• Better Communication: He opens up about his fears and insecurities, something he never thought he’d do.

• Ambition Boost: He works harder to stabilize Tenjiku, not just for power but to build something stable for the both of you.

—

Izana stood by the window, staring out at the city below. You walked up behind him, resting a hand on his back.

“Lost in thought again?”

“Just… thinking about the future.” His voice was distant, but there was a softness in it.

“You’re not alone in that anymore, you know.”

His hand found yours, squeezing gently. “I know. That’s why I want to make sure… it’s a future you’d want, too.”

۶ৎ Nahoya “Smiley” Kawata

• Style Upgrade: His clothes get a little less chaotic, matching his accessories to his outfits (sometimes).

• Emotional Maturity: He learns to read the room better, understanding when to dial down the jokes.

• Healthier Habits: He cuts back on staying up all night because you nag him about taking care of himself.

—

Nahoya sat beside you, legs stretched out in front of him.

“Yo,” he nudged you lightly, “notice anything different?”

You glanced at him, noticing his shirt wasn’t as wrinkled, and his nails were… clean?

“You… took care of yourself?”

“Figured I’d start lookin’ decent since I’m always standing next to someone as divine as you.” He winked, but there was a hint of sincerity behind the playful grin.

۶ৎ Souya “Angry” Kawata

• Style Upgrade: Starts wearing softer fabrics because you said they feel nice when you hug him.

• Better Communication: He opens up about his emotions more instead of bottling them up.

• Healthier Habits: He starts drinking more water and taking vitamins because you remind him.

—

Souya sat at the kitchen table, quietly sipping the tea you made for him.

“Did you… put honey in this?”

“Yeah,” you smiled softly. “It’s good for your throat.”

He glanced away, cheeks slightly flushed. “Thanks… I, uh, started taking those vitamins you gave me, too.”

You blinked, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah.” His eyes met yours, softer than usual. “You… worry about me too much. I don’t wanna make you worry more.”

۶ৎ Takashi Mitsuya

• Style Upgrade: Starts incorporating subtle hints of your favorite colors into his designs.

• Ambition Boost: He becomes more focused on expanding his brand, wanting to create a future where you’re both secure.

• Emotional Maturity: He becomes more expressive, showing affection in quieter, meaningful ways.

—

Mitsuya sat at his sewing machine, fabric draped across his lap.

“What’s that?” You leaned over, curiosity piqued.

“Something… for you.” He didn’t meet your gaze, but the blush on his cheeks was impossible to miss.

“For me?”

“Yeah.” He finally looked up, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Wanted to make sure you had something that… reminds you of me.”

۶ৎ Hajime Kokonoi

• Style Upgrade: He starts wearing softer tones that match your style, even ditching all-black sometimes.

• Ambition Boost: His business ventures become more personal, focusing on stability rather than just money.

• Emotional Maturity: He learns to prioritize love over material gain, valuing your presence more than anything.

—

Kokonoi sat across from you at the café, his usual suit replaced with a sweater in a soft shade of cream.

“New look?” You teased, eyeing him with a raised brow.

“Maybe.” He sipped his coffee, avoiding your gaze. “Figured… I should try something different.”

“Because of me?”

His lips quirked into a small smile. “Because I want to be someone… who fits into your world.”

[barelyalivesstuff]

That's My Girl—⁠☆

Summary: You're their girlfriend and they are a bit too much in love with you.

Warnings: fluff, crack, a bit insecure(?)reader, random bitches bitching.

Characters: Mitsuya Takashi, Sano Manjiro/Mikey, Hanemiya Kazutora, Hanma Shuji, Baji Keisuke.

A/N: Please don't bash me but writing/reading fics for characters like Darken, Daichi, Nanami feels illegal too me—

✯Mitsuya Takashi*⁠.⁠✧

It starts when you swing by the sewing club to bring Mitsuya lunch. You’re used to his popularity—he’s kind, reliable, and honestly way too pretty for his own good. But today, the moment you walk in, you feel it. The stares.

Three girls are huddled together, whispering and not-so-subtly giving you the side-eye as Mitsuya beams the second he spots you.

“[Name],” he says warmly, wiping his hands on a cloth before coming over to hug you. He takes the lunchbox with an exaggerated sigh of happiness. “My lifesaver. What would I do without you?”

You can hear the whispers now.

“Of course she brought him food.”

“She’s not even that cute…”

“He deserves someone way better.”

It stings—more than you want to admit. You manage a smile for Mitsuya, but your chest feels tight.

He notices instantly. Mitsuya always notices. His lavender eyes flick toward the girls, then back at you, and you can see the irritation flicker beneath his calm exterior. But instead of addressing them directly, he takes your hand.

“Come here,” he says gently, pulling you closer. His arm slips around your waist as he leans down, brushing his lips against your temple—deliberate, soft, intimate.The sewing club goes dead silent.

“You okay?” he murmurs just for you, his voice low enough that only you can hear.You hesitate, then whisper back, “…they don’t like me much.”

Mitsuya pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. His expression softens, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t care if they like you. I love you. That’s all that matters.”

Before you can even respond, he kisses you—right there in front of everyone, unhurried and sweet. When he pulls away, he’s grinning, completely unbothered by the daggers being stared into your back.

“They’ll get over it,” he says simply, holding your hand tightly in his. “Because you’re mine, and I wouldn’t trade you for the world.” The girls look like they’ve swallowed lemons, but Mitsuya doesn’t even spare them a glance. His whole focus is on you, and the way he squeezes your hand makes the sting fade instantly.

“Now,” he says with his usual cheer, “tell me what you packed me for lunch. I’m starving, babe.” And just like that, with his quiet reassurance and shameless affection, the only thing you feel is warmth.

✯Sano Manjiro*⁠.⁠✧

It’s a sunny afternoon, and somehow you’ve found yourself stuck babysitting the entire Toman founding crew because Mikey insisted you all should “hang out like family.” Which is why you’re now seated in the park, surrounded by chaos.

Mikey is lying across your lap, shamelessly using your thighs as a pillow while eating a taiyaki you bought him. Draken’s scolding him, Baji is already yelling about nothing, Mitsuya is trying to keep the peace, and Kazutora… well, Kazutora looks like he’s about two seconds away from picking a fight with a random pigeon.

“You know…” Draken sighs, watching Mikey happily munch on the sweet, “she’s not your personal chair.” Mikey tilts his head up at you, flashing his most innocent grin. “But she likes when I sit here, don’t you, babe?”

You roll your eyes, but Mikey’s puppy-dog eyes are impossible to resist. “You’re heavy.” “Lies.” He sits up dramatically, pointing at you with the tail of his half-eaten taiyaki. “I’m light as a feather. An angel, even.”

“Angel?” Baji bursts out laughing so hard he nearly drops his snack. “You? More like a gremlin who steals all our food!”

“I’m not a gremlin!” Mikey protests, turning to pout at you. “Tell him, [Name]. Tell him I’m cute.” Kazutora squints. “You are kinda like a gremlin, Mikey…”

“Et tu, Kazutora?” Mikey gasps in fake betrayal, clutching his chest like he’s been stabbed. He slumps against you dramatically. “Wifey, they’re bullying me. Protect me!” You pat his head, biting back a laugh. “Don’t worry, Mikey. You’re my cute little gremlin.”

Mitsuyas lips twitch, trying not to laugh. “Honestly, that’s accurate.” Draken groans, running a hand down his face. “This is what I deal with every damn day.”

Mikey, of course, ignores all of them and nuzzles against your shoulder, eating the rest of his taiyaki like he hasn’t a care in the world. “You’re my favorite, [Name],” he mumbles, his words muffled with pastry. “Don’t ever leave me, okay?”

And though the boys laugh, though Baji immediately makes gagging noises and yells “Get a room!”, there’s a softness in Mikey’s eyes that makes your heart squeeze.

You kiss the top of his head, and he grins, cheeks puffed with sweet filling. “My cute little gremlin,” you whisper. “Forever your gremlin,” he says proudly—earning a chorus of groans from the entire gang.

☆Kazutora Hanemiya*⁠.⁠✧

You didn’t expect him to show up at your house in the middle of the night. Again.

There’s a soft tap-tap-tap at your window, and when you pull back the curtain, Kazutora’s grinning up at you like a kid caught sneaking candy, his blond-and-black hair messy, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “Kazu…” you sigh, opening the window. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Mm… adventure o’clock?” he says innocently, swinging himself inside before you can stop him.

“You’re insane.”

He laughs, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you close the window. “Maybe. But you like me anyway.”

You can’t argue with that, not when he rests his chin on your shoulder and looks at you like you’re the only thing tethering him to earth.

The next day, you find out just how clingy he can be.

You’re out walking with him when a group of girls pass by, whispering behind their hands. You catch words like “scary” and “why is she with him,” and your chest tightens.

Kazutora, however, hears everything. His smile sharpens. He turns to you, tilts his head, and says loud enough for them to hear:

“Guess what?”

“What?” you ask warily.

“You’re mine.” He cups your face suddenly and kisses you—right there on the sidewalk, unbothered by the stares. His kiss is desperate, lingering, like he’s daring the world to take you from him. When he pulls back, you’re breathless. The girls are gone. Kazutora grins, satisfied.

“You don’t need to listen to anyone else,” he murmurs, brushing your hair back. “They don’t know me. They don’t know you. But I do. And I’m not letting you go.”

You swat his arm lightly, trying to hide your flushed face. “You could’ve been a little less dramatic, you know.” He smirks. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Later, back at your place, he sprawls on your bed with his head in your lap, staring up at you. For once, his eyes are calm.

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever had,” he whispers. “I’d break the whole world before I let it take you from me.”

And though his words should sound heavy, the way he says them—soft, vulnerable—makes your heart ache with affection. You kiss his forehead, and he closes his eyes with the most peaceful smile.

✯Hanma Shuji*⁠.⁠✧

You’re leaning against Shuji's bike outside a convenience store, scrolling on your phone and waiting for Hanma to come back out with snacks. He’s taking forever, probably chatting someone’s ear off.

You don’t even notice the two girls a few feet away until you hear them whispering—loud enough to make sure you hear.

“Is she really with Hanma Shuji?”

“She doesn’t look like his type at all…”

“Bet she’s just another phase for him.”

You freeze, stomach twisting. You’d expected some people to talk—Hanma’s reputation isn’t exactly quiet—but it still hits harder than you’d like.

Right then, the door jingles and Hanma saunters out, bag of snacks swinging from his fingers. His tall frame moves like a cat that knows it owns the street. He spots you instantly.

“What’s with the frown, sweetheart?” he drawls, leaning down until his face is level with yours. His mismatched eyes glitter with mischief, but there’s a flicker of concern there too.

“Nothing,” you mutter.

He follows your line of sight, catches the girls whispering, and his smile sharpens into something feral. In two long strides, he’s standing in front of you, looping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you flush against him.

He turns his head just enough so his voice carries. “You ladies enjoying the free show?” he says lightly, but there’s an edge under it—the kind of edge that makes people’s throats go dry.

They immediately look away, mumbling excuses and scurrying off. Hanma chuckles under his breath and turns back to you, ruffling your hair. “People are funny, huh?”

You huff, looking down. “They were saying I’m not your type.”

Hanma tilts his head, grinning, but his eyes soften. “Oh, baby. You’re not my ‘type.’ You’re my favorite.”

You blink at him. “…what?”

He laughs, loud and genuine, then leans in until his forehead presses against yours. “I don’t do types. I do people who make me feel alive. And you? You make me feel more alive than any fight ever has.”

Then, with absolutely zero shame, he kisses you right there in the parking lot—a long, slow, showy kiss that leaves you breathless. He pulls back with a smirk, licking his bottom lip.

“Let ‘em talk,” he says. “You’re with me. That means you’re untouchable.”

He hands you the snack bag, grinning wider now. “Now eat something before I start a fight just to watch you scold me.”

And somehow, with his arm slung over your shoulders and that ridiculous smile aimed only at you, the sting of the whispers melts away. Because with Hanma, you never feel small. You feel like you’re standing in the middle of a storm that’s decided to protect you instead of tear you apart.

✯Baji Keisuke*⁠.⁠✧

The plan was simple: hang out at Baji’s place, watch a movie, maybe cuddle a little. The reality?

“KAZU, STOP EATING ALL THE POPCORN!”

You’re sitting on the couch sandwiched between Baji and Kazutora, who Baji oh-so-kindly invited without asking. The bowl of popcorn you made is already half gone because those two keep fighting over it like children.

“Oi! Don’t call me Kazu in front of [Name]!” Kazutora snaps, grabbing another handful.

“Don’t tell me what to do in my own house!” Baji barks back, practically diving over you to steal the bowl. You squeak as your drink almost tips over, smacking his arm.

“Keisuke! You’re crushing me!”

Immediately, Baji freezes, bowl in hand, and looks down at you with wide eyes. “Ah—shit, sorry, babe!” He carefully shifts back, scratching the back of his neck. His ears are pink.

Kazutora smirks. “Ohhh, Keisuke now, huh?”

“Shut up!” Baji snaps, throwing a kernel at him. You’re laughing so hard your stomach hurts. “You two are unbelievable.”

Baji pouts at you like a kicked puppy. “He started it!”

“I Did not!” Kazutora protests.

“You Did!”

You shake your head and lean against Baji’s shoulder, smiling. He quiets instantly, like a switch flipped. His arm slips around you, pulling you closer, and for once he doesn’t argue with Kazutora. Instead, he mutters, almost shyly, “Don’t listen to him, okay? You’re my gir. And he’s stupid.”

Kazutora groans. “God, you’re so sappy when she’s around. It’s gross.”

Baji grins wickedly, suddenly energized. “You think this is gross? Watch this.” He turns and plants the loudest, sloppiest kiss on your cheek, making obnoxious smooching noises just to piss Kazu off. You squeal and push at him, laughing. “Baji, stop!”

“Never!” he declares dramatically, peppering your face with kisses now—nose, forehead, jaw, everywhere—while Kazutora makes gagging sounds in the background.

Finally, Baji pulls back, grinning like he just won a fight. “See? She loves it.”

And judging by the way your cheeks burn and your heart races, you can’t even argue with him.

May this kind of love attacks me;).LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Don’t steal,copy,edit or use my work in any form without my permission.

Barelyalive out!

[kara-records]

sugawara koushi x filipina is stuck in my mind like!!! they're so cute to me ❤️‍🩹

note: established relationship. use of filipino.

suga is endeared on how she switches languages in a span of seconds when she's excited or frustrated. retelling what happened that day as he walks her home when she switches from japanese to tagalog so casually, for her simple and sole reason of: "it's said better in tagalog", and he agrees completely!

falls in love again and is rendered speechless when she calls him— mahal (love). it just feels more meaningful in her language that it's making him plan their future already. sometimes, he won't be doing what she asks him to do unless she calls him mahal. you can hear the pout. suga also starts calling her mahal.

"koshi, can you get my wallet, please?"

"hm, that's not my name, mahal :("

ofc he'll ask her to teach him her language! (he plans to impress her parents). suga is a fast learner and though he mispronounces the words, you can really see his dedication and effort into learning her culture :)

speaking of culture, I kid you not when he searches up 'old school' things in the Philippines bc he overheard her saying to kiyoko that she likes those. learned a few love songs with the guitar. so whenever his filipina feels down or they get into a small disagreement, suga is sure to hum/sing a few slow love opms to his mahal.

watches filipino telenovelas/movies with her and gets really into it. like maybe they watch can't buy me love (the one w donabelle) and its just so dramatic with his reaction, bc the drama is crazy!

having weekend dates (karaoke nights, book store visits, theater watching, and etc), after games hangout, and so much more.

intimate moments ranges to slow dancing in the kitchen, with her favorite filipino song at the background. dimmed lights, soft smiles, humming to the song. to his filipina just laughing about anything and sugawara just staring at her, with all the love in the world held in his eyes.

in summary, sugawara koushi is very fond and utterly in love with his filipina. ♡

© kara-records, 2024. ♡ heart ↻ reblog 💭 comment

just surface level of their relationship but !!! THE CUTENESS AGGRESSION I GET WHEN I THINK ABT THEM :(

[thousandwint3rs]

Can we get hcs for characters with thier first date/early into the relationship with reader vs. late into the relatiosnhip with reader with a reader who's shy and nervous at first but opens up with time and becomes very extroverted, cilngy and open with them, possibly even growing very dependent on them (Pls include Shinichiro and whoever else you want idrc as long as Shin is there lol)

hellooooooo!!! #hell #yes #i #can this is such a cute prompt ty ty !!

since u love shinichiro im writing this prompt w/ black dragons bc.. lets be real ¬‿¬

𓏲ּ𝄢 synopsis // early relationship vs late relationship w/ shin + black dragons

𓏲ּ𝄢 pairings // shinichiro sano, wakasa imaushi, takeomi akashi, benkei arashi, !! + future gen !! kokonoi hajime, inui seishu, hakkai shiba, taiju shiba

𓏲ּ𝄢 a/n // also, i dunno if anyone is really into the takemoi and benkei action, so theirs is unfortunately booty cheeks. and lowkey same w taiju. he freaks me out so im not the best at writing for him.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ FIRST DATE / EARLY RELATIONSHIP

<𝟑 .ᐟ shinichiro sano

he of all people couldn't blame you at all for being nervous because no matter how anxious you were feeling, he was feeling it 10x worse.

on your first few dates, shin fills the quiet for you, rambling about bikes and old stories so you don’t feel pressured to speak.

he'll definitely notice how you hover close without touching, how your fingers catch on his sleeve instead of his hand, especially in larger crowds, and he lets it happen slowly, patiently, gently.

definetly makes awful jokes and laughs at them himself too to try to help make you more comfortable with him.

would jokingly offer you a cigarette to share with him, saying it helps him calm his nerves so it might help you too.

would keep your pinkies intertwined if thats all you needed, would forget theyre intertwined until you eventually pull away and he feels a cold sensation where your warmth once was.

i feel like he'll never call you shy outright, just because he may be a little nervous if you get upset towards teasing, since you are so shy. he'll just smile, as if he’s been trusted with something fragile.

<𝟑 .ᐟ wakasa imaushi

wakasa wouldn't rush you.

he lets the silences stretch until you feel safe instead of awkward, grounding you with quiet glances and subtle touches.

he notices every nervous habit but never points them out, making space for you to exist exactly as you are.

dates are quiet, unhurried, filled with comfortable pauses that slowly stop feeling like something you need to apologize for.

he notices the way you fidget, the way your voice softens when you’re unsure, and responds with calm steadiness like light touches, grounding glances, and comforting closeness.

would also give you a cigarette to share, or blunt if you're home alone with him.

would keep his arm wrapped saround you in public to not only make sure everybody knew not to mess with you, but to also remind you that he's with you, and that he's not going anywhere.

<𝟑 .ᐟ takeomi akashi

takeomi keeps things light when you’re first together, cracking jokes the moment he senses you retreating into yourself.

he checks in without hovering, offering reassurance disguised as humor, watching carefully to learn what puts you at ease.

he'll ask if you’re hungry, tired, or cold, never making it obvious that he’s monitoring your comfort.

you notice that he always positions himself just slightly closer when you’re nervous, like he’s bracing you against the world without saying so.

<𝟑 .ᐟ benkei arashi

benkei is careful with you in a way that feels intentional, like he’s constantly measuring his presence so it won’t overwhelm yours.

hes is gentle with you in a way that surprises even him.

on early dates, he stands just close enough that you know he’s there, offering quiet reassurance rather than words.

he keeps his voice low, his movements careful, offering silent reassurance rather than words.

he knows he looks a bit scary on the outside, so he'll do anything in his power to make sure you're comfortable around him no matter what.

when you lean against him for the first time, tentative and unsure, he doesn’t react, he ust stays exactly where he is so you won’t feel embarrassed.

𓏲ּ𝄢 late gen black dragons

<𝟑 .ᐟ kokonoi hajime

kokonoi notices your shyness immediately. the way you hesitate before speaking, the way your confidence flickers in and out like it’s testing him.

he chooses quiet, warm places for your dates, places where you don’t have to perform.

he never rushes your silences, never fills them unnecessarily, just watches and listens, intrigued.

when he compliments you, it’s understated, almost careful, like he’s afraid of startling you

you catch him studying you when you’re not looking, already wondering how someone so reserved could make him feel this invested.

kokonoi definitely dials himself back around you, choosing warm, quiet spaces over anything loud and extravagant.

he notices how your confidence flickers in and out. he'll be intrigued by the person he knows is hiding beneath your shyness., so he never pushes, just waits and does whatever he can to show you that you can trust him and be more comfortable with him.

<𝟑 .ᐟ inui seishu

inui is quiet with you, matching your reserved energy instinctively.

may be a bit awkward at first considering how quiet you both would be, but it wouldn't take long for it to fade into a comforting quiet that you can relax and soak up each others presence in.

conversations are slow and thoughtful, never rushed, never forced.

he notices how carefully you choose your words, how you tense when you think you’re being too much, and he responds with steady reassurance rather than grand gestures.

your trust feels earned by him, something precious he refuses to mishandle. when you smile at him, really smile, he carries it with him for days and replays the moment in his head over and over.

<𝟑 .ᐟ taiju shiba

taiju is intimidating at first. his presence is heavy, his voice firm, but he surprises you with patience.

he never crowds you, never demands more than you’re ready to give.

instead, he watches quietly, stepping in only when necessary, offering protection rather than pressure.

you learn that his silence isn’t disinterest, it’s restraint.

he knows hes all big and scary, and he prides himself on that, but when you finally relax around him, even just a little, it feels like a private victory.

<𝟑 .ᐟ hakkai shiba

hakkai is just as nervous as you are in the beginning, stumbling over words, apologizing too much, checking in constantly to make sure you’re okay.

dates are soft and awkward, filled with shy smiles and hesitant touches that feel monumental.

he lights up whenever you initiate anything, even something small, like you choosing to sit closer.

with him, your shyness feels shared instead of isolating.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ LATE RELATIONSHIP

<𝟑 .ᐟ shinichiro sano

sometimes he still can’t believe how much you’ve opened up. you sit in his lap without asking, talk nonstop while he works, call him just to hear his voice.

i feel like he wouldn't want you to fully rely on him. relying on each other in a relationship is very important, but he also wouldn't want you to be dependent on him. he'll absolutely love it if he's a part of your safe space, and he'll burst with excitement knowing he makes you happy. but he also wants you to be your own person, and not always about him, him, him all the time. having some independence is good, and he's very adamant about that.

reassures you constantly

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

when you say you need him, shinichiro doesn’t tease you. he just pulls you closer and promises, again and again, that he loves you no matter what.

would burn the world down if you ever felt uncomfortable again, and if he ever did anything to make you uncomfortable after gaining your full trust, he would go crazy and apologize 100x over. buying gifts, words of affirmation, staying with you, anything to let you know how sorry he is that he made you feel like this.

<𝟑 .ᐟ wakasa imaushi

once you open up, you cling to him openly, draping yourself over his arm, laughing louder than anyone expects.

grounds you when you spiral

encourages independence, but supports dependence too.

i honestly feel like he'd take advantage if you ever got too dependent on him. he'd relish the fact that you call him when he's not home and ask where he is. hearing the worry and yearning in your voice just does something to him, and he's not afraid to admit that to himself.

you’re his calm and his chaos

he becomes your calm, never loud, never panicked, always there.

<𝟑 .ᐟ takeomi akashi

teases you relentlessly now, but listens just as hard

loves how expressive you are

you’re glued to his side, venting freely, leaning into him like it’s second nature.

takes your dependence seriously, proud that when you need stability, you reach for him.

ego boost that you chose him as your anchor

<𝟑 .ᐟ benkei arashi

you hang off him shamelessly, loud and animated, using him like a human anchor.

benkei never complains. he just adjusts his stance and smiles more than anyone’s ever seen him smile before.

quietly devoted

doesn’t mind you relying on him

provides stability without words

<𝟑 .ᐟ kokonoi hajime

FLOORED by your confidence.

def loves your clinginess

obviously he'll spoil you shamelessly

if you depend on him emotionally, he leans into it. makes you feel secure in every way

lowkey obsessed once you open up, wants to hear you talk about anything and everything, especially the thoughts that run through your head.

<𝟑 .ᐟ inui seishu

shocked by how affectionate you are now, esp if you initiate contact constantly

i also feel like he wouldn't want you to rely on him emotionally. hes used to his independence and might feel a little uneasy being an anchor for your dependacy. of course he'll love it when you feel the need to call him after a long day, an annoying work shift, or just to hear him breath, but wouldn't want it to become an obsessive (?) dependacy.

he becomes fiercely loyal, drops everything when you need him

finds purpose in being needed by you

<𝟑 .ᐟ taiju shiba

extremely protective once you open up

Taiju becomes your shield.

you depend on him without fear, bold in private, secure in the way he steadies you instantly.

anyone who threatens your peace doesn’t stand a chance, and Taiju never lets you feel guilty for needing him.

<𝟑 .ᐟ hakkai shiba

thrives with your affection, you cling openly now and aren't scared to do so.

you reassure him

feels safe being vulnerable because of you

def mutual emotional dependence.

he thrives in your affection, finally comfortable being soft, emotionally attached, and unashamed of how much he needs you too.

got a lil lazy halfway thru </3 but i hope this is good !!

[obsessiveotomelover]

Lost & Found

Summary: It was supposed to be a simple carnival date with Mitsuya and his two little sisters, Luna and Mana, but you wanted to make a good impression, so you do your best to keep up with their endless energy—only to realize that spending a day with them is a lot more unpredictable than you thought.

Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst with a happy ending, Sweet, Romance, Fun, Chaotic Siblings Energy  

Song Inspiration: Cigarettes After Sex – "Sweet" | Grouplove - "Tongue Tied"

Word Count: 4K

A/N: I’ve always really admired Mitsuya’s back story with him stepping up to take care of his younger sisters (he’s seriously one of my top favorite characters in TR) and I’ve had this idea floating in my head for a long time, so I finally decided to commit to writing it. Hope y’all enjoy~   

*

“Oops!”

“Mana!”

“Sorry, Oni-chan.”

You stare in worry at Mitsuya’s now drenched shirt, soaked with his little sister’s blue Icee—the one he had bought for her earlier that day. That was going to hurt him in more ways than one. After all, that overpriced drink had cost him nearly ten dollars.

You watch as Mana’s big eyes fill with tears at her mistake...

And how quickly Mitsuya folds in response.

“It’s okay, Mana. I know you didn’t mean it. I’ll just um…” He looks around for a moment before turning to you. “I’ll just go back to those clothing stands we passed and see if I can grab a new T-shirt. Maybe they’ll have a cheap one.”

You nod, about to respond when another voice suddenly cuts through.

“Oni-chan, I have to go to the bathroom!”

“Right now, Luna?” Mitsuya says, sounding exasperated.

Luna nods, shuffling from foot to foot, doing that dance every little kid does when they really have to pee.

“Well, she did finish her large Icee in like, five minutes,” you point out to Mitsuya. He had bought both girls Icees—a small for Mana while Luna had insisted on the large, which she then gulped down in minutes despite her small size.         

He sighs while you bite down on your lip to hold back your laughter.

It had been like this all day.

About a week ago, you and Mitsuya had planned a date to attend the Spring carnival, which was only in town for two weeks. You two didn’t get the chance to go on many dates, especially since he was busy between his sewing endeavors, meetings with Toman, and caring for his two little sisters, Luna and Mana. You had your own busy schedule as well—school, studying, and work. So, you both had scheduled a date that weekend, promising that nothing would get in the way of spending time together.

Then, Mitsuya’s mom got called in for extra hours for work. Someone had called out so she would make double overtime if she went in on the weekend, so she asked for Mitsuya’s help. That’s when Mitsuya called you to explain. He had sounded so apologetic over the phone, but you hated when Mitsuya was upset, especially for things that weren’t his fault. That’s when you got an idea.         

“We don’t have to cancel, Mitsu,” you told him over the phone. “Why don’t we turn it into a group outing with your sisters?”

“Really?” he had said, surprised. “You wouldn’t mind hanging out with my sisters all afternoon?”

You shrugged, even though he couldn't see it. “Why not? They’re adorable.” Or, at least they were always cute whenever you stopped by Mitsuya’s place. You hadn’t really spent more than ten minutes with either of them whenever you saw them while making quick stops just to pick him up, or to hang out with him.

“I’m sure it’ll be fun,” you continued, cheerily.  

A chuckle came from Mitsuya through the speaker. “You only say that because you haven’t actually watched them before. Trust me. They’re a handful.”

But you just shook your head, convinced that this idea of yours to take the girls to the carnival would go perfectly.

“No, they’re cute. So, let’s do it. I’ll come by this weekend and the four of us will have a whole day together at the carnival.”

“Okay,” Mitsuya agreed, although by the tone of his voice, he didn’t sound fully convinced. “I’ll tell Luna and Mana.”

“Great!” you responded, excitedly. “It’s a date!”

When you had arrived at Mitsuya’s place, before you could even get out of your car, the two girls came running out the front door, all excited and high energy. You smiled upon seeing the little auburn Luna, followed along by her younger blonde sister, Mana.

They were so cute.

“Hi Luna and Mana,” you said as you walked up to them, crouching down to their level. “You girls ready for a fun day at the carnival?”

Both girls nodded with big grins.

“Where’s your brother?” you asked, looking around for him.

“He’s locking up the house,” Luna said with a roll of her eyes, as if annoyed by the inconvenience. “He keeps checking that the windows are closed, the doors are locked…that the oven and stove are off…”

“He always takes a long time whenever we have to leave home!” Mana pouted as she crossed her arms. “Why can’t we just go already?”

You smiled at them, realizing they don’t understand why Mitsuya might take a long time to care for the house before they leave.

“That’s because he’s being a good big brother and making sure he takes care of the house even while you guys are gone,” you explained to them. “You guys wouldn’t want to come home and find intruders inside, would you?”

“No way!” Luna said, looking shocked at the thought while Mana shook her head, vigorously.   

Just then, Mitsuya exited the front door, and locked it before heading towards the three of you. You couldn’t help but smile, your stomach filling with butterflies at how good he looked.

He was wearing a T-shirt that perfectly matched the silver-lavendar color of his hair and eyes along with some black pants and converse. You two had been dating for a little over three months, but even so, you still felt just as smitten as you did the first day you saw him.

“Hey,” he said, greeting you with a kiss to your cheek. You heard the girls giggle beside you. “Thanks again for being cool with this. My mom told me to thank you, as well.”

“It’s no problem,” you said, waving your hand. You then glanced down at the girls. “We’re gonna have fun today, right girls?”

“Yeah!” they both yelled in unison.

So, that’s how the four of you ended up at the Spring carnival on a Saturday, arriving a little after 11 in the morning.

Mitsuya had paid for all of your entrance tickets, but you didn’t want him to pay for everything, so you insisted on paying for ride tickets as well as tickets for whichever vendor booths the girls wanted to participate in.

Although they were energetic, the girls had started off pretty tame from the walk from the car up to the entrance of the carnival, but once they got inside and their eyes feasted on all the rides, it was like something snapped, unleashing all their energy at once.

“I wanna go on the Tilt-a-whirl!”

“I wanna go on the Ferris Wheel!”

“Can we get stuffed animals?”

“Can we play in the arcade?”

“I want ice cream!”

“I want cotton candy!”

You didn’t realize just how right Mitsuya had been when he told you that the girls were a handful until you actually spent time with them today. They were still cute, but you couldn’t lie—they sure were exhausting.

That’s when Mitsuya had gotten the idea to get them both some food and drinks because at least they would both have to sit down for a moment to do that, which would give you and him a much needed break for a moment. They couldn’t cause chaos if they were busy stuffing their mouths and little bellies. So, you all stood in the long lines at the food concession area and got an array of popular carnival goodies including chicken fingers, corn dogs, popcorn and Icees.

They sat together, using your phone to watch their favorite show while they ate. You and Mitsuya sat at the next table over, talking while keeping an eye on them.

“So, what do you think about having little sisters now?” he asks you with a knowing smirk. “Now that you’ve hung out with them, I mean.”  

You grin as you look over at the girls. “They’re still cute. They’re just…” you pause as you try to think of a polite way to say what you truly feel while still being honest. “…a lot.”

Mitsuya laughs in response, as he steals some of your fries, obviously knowing exactly what you mean.

“But I can see why they look up to you,” you continue, glancing over at them again. “You’re such a good big brother to them.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot, but someone’s got to do it. My mom worked hard to provide for all of us while growing up, so I want to be able to help her out with them whenever I can.”

This is partly why you liked Mitsuya so much. Being a caretaker at such a young age must have made him mature much earlier than his peers. You knew it must have been hard on him sometimes, yet he still took on that challenge without any complaints. And the benefits of having him around definitely showed. The girls have grown up well due to his influence.    

After you all finished eating, you guys got up to walk around for a little while to “walk off” what you just consumed. But the girls were getting hyper again, ready to choose their next ride only to end up in a little quarrel over which ride to go on next.

“We went on the Ferris Wheel already, Mana,” Luna told her younger sister in a condescending tone. “I want to go inside the Mirror Maze.”

“But it’s scary in there!” Mana argued with a terrified pout.  

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes it is!”

“No, it’s not.” Luna then reached out to tug at one of Mana’s hair buns.

“Hey! Don’t pinch me!” Mana said, jumping back to avoid Luna’s hands. That’s when the Icee drink in her hand flew back and splashed onto Mitsuya. “Oops!”      

*

And that’s how Mitsuya ended up with a big blue Icee stain down the front of his T-shirt.

Mitsuya pulls out his wallet to count how much cash he has on him for a new shirt. That’s when Mana suddenly pipes up.

“I have to go to the bathroom, too.”

“Of course, you do.”

You smirk at Mitsuya’s dry sarcasm. Although the girls had their differences, you’ve learned that Mana is practically her big sister’s shadow. Just about everything Luna wanted to do, so did Mana.      

“Alright, I’ll just get a shirt later then. Let’s—”

“I’ll take them,” you offer, without thinking.

Mitsuya’s brows raise. “You sure?”

You nod, certain. “Yeah, it’s fine. I can handle them. You go grab your shirt while I take the girls to the restroom—we’ll meet back up after.”

He smiles at you, grateful. “Okay, great. Thanks.”

He then looks down at his two little sisters, telling them to hold your hands while you take them to the restroom. “Don’t go wandering off. Stay right by her side, okay?”

They both nod in unison. “Okay, Oni-chan!”

He looks satisfied with their response and looks back at you. “Alright, I’ll be right back.”

You watch as he jogs off in the direction of the clothing stands then glance down at both girls holding either of your hands.

“Alright girls, let’s go.”

The three of you head for the nearest bathroom station you can find in the busy carnival. When you guys get there, it’s a madhouse! The line stretches out the door, and wraps around the side of the building. Luckily, the line moves pretty quickly so it doesn’t take you all too much time to get to the front.

When the three of you reach the front of the line, you let the girls go first, telling them to share a stall so they can watch out for each other. You figured you would just wait off on the side for them to finish, but as you waited for them, you start to feel the large soda you had earlier catching up to you.

You could go in a stall once someone came out, but if the girls came out before you finished, they wouldn't know where you were, so you waited for them to exit so you could tell them which stall you were going in. Afterwards, they could wait off to the side together for you.

Once they come out, you slip into the same stall and tell them to stay together while you go. Then, you all could wash your hands together.

“Okay! We’ll wait right here!” Luna agrees, eagerly while holding Mana’s hand.

You grin and close the door to do your business.

As you used the bathroom, you thought about how the day had gone so far. You’re glad you and Mitsuya decided to take the girls to the carnival. It gave you a chance to really get to know them besides just polite pleasantries, and although they were a handful, they were still really sweet girls. You could see why Mitsuya cherished them so much and why they looked up to him.

You just hoped they liked you as well. They seemed to based on how things had gone so far. Maybe you could buy them Dippin’ Dots ice cream once you guys left the carnival. They had pointed the stand out when you guys first entered, but Mitsuya had turned the idea down, not letting them have ice cream just before getting on rides, lest they get sick. If you got them some before leaving, they’d walk away with good memories of you.

“Luna?” you call through the closed stall to make sure they are still waiting. “Mana? You girls okay?”

Nothing.

A small frown tugs at your lips.

“Luna?” you call again. “Mana?”

Aside from the sounds of people entering and exiting bathroom stalls, along with various conversations, there was absolutely no response from either girl.

Your heart stops.

You rush to finish and push the stall door open, immediately looking in the area they had been standing at when you first went in the bathroom, but your stomach churns when you realize they’re nowhere to be seen.

“Luna? Mana?” you call again as you begin to search the restroom, dropping to glance under the stalls for any sign of little feet in their matching tennis shoes. The girls had worn matching outfits, making it easier to keep track of them but you didn't see those pink sneakers anywhere.

You go all around the restroom, checking the hand-washing area, then around the restroom to the other side to check more stalls. You start asking around for two little girls with similar hair buns, but you come up empty every time.

That’s when panic sets in, your heart racing as the situation sets in.

The girls.

Are gone.

*

Your first instinct is to call Mitsuya, but when you reach your back pocket for your phone, that's when you realize in horror, you don’t have it.

The girls!

Your stomach drops.

 I gave my phone to the girls!

You had given it to them to watch videos while they ate but never got it back from them.

Your breath stutters, shoulders dropping as panic starts to set in further.

“Damn it!”

You don’t dwell on it though, instantly, moving on to your next instinct which is to go where you knew Mitsuya was supposed to be—the clothing stands.

You head out the bathroom and make your way through the crowded carnival towards the area with all the vendors selling merchandise.

Your head whips around in every direction, searching for Mitsuya’s distinct silver-lavender hair, or for two little girls in matching outfits, but you don’t see either. You begin trying to ask different vendors if they had seen two little girls with Luna's and Mana's description but not only is it hard to get their full attention due to them dealing with multiple customers at once, but no one gives you anything useful either.

You continue through the carnival, but the longer you go without seeing any of the Mitsuya family, the more frantic you become, tears starting to fill your eyes around the brim because of how worried you are.

Mitsuya trusted you with this one simple task of taking his little sisters to the restroom and you couldn’t even do that right. Even back when he was a young kid himself, he had taken care of those girls for years, but you—an adult—couldn’t even watch them for thirty minutes. He’s going to hate you once he finds out.

He’s definitely going to dump you. Yell at you, first, and then dump you.

But his sisters...

What could’ve happened to them? Did they leave? Did they get distracted by something and follow it? Or…someone?

You feel your stomach bubble with nausea at the thought of someone taking them or luring them away.

You shake your head, refusing to let your thoughts wander into too dark a territory, hoping there had to be a logical explanation for their disappearance. But the longer you search without seeing any of three, the more your tears fill your eyes until they start to fall down your cheeks and blur your vision.

You search frantically through the carnival—darting through rides, asking ride operators and staff, scanning crowds. Every second feels heavier, the guilt gnawing at you.

I lost them. Mitsuya trusted me, and I lost them.

Some kind carnival goers see you crying and try to help by letting you use their phone to call Mitsuya, but you’re so distraught you can’t even remember his number. You dial the wrong number at least three times, which only pisses off the receiver of the call, until they finally snap at you not to call again.

The people who let you use their phone advise that if all else fails, you should let the security know and then wait near the entrance of the carnival to watchout for them. At the very least, they eventually had to exit the carnival in order to get out, so if you waited by the entrance, you might catch them.

So, that’s exactly what you do, stopping near a tree off to the side while you scan all the people exiting the carnival in hopes to see either Mitsuya or the girls. You even let guiding staff near the exit know about your situation so they knew to be on the lookout.

However, he spots you, first.

In fact, you don't see him until he's already there.

“Oh! There you are!”

You whip around at the sound of his familiar voice.

There, about a foot away, Mitsuya is walking up to you but he stops in his tracks once he notices the look on your face. “I was wondering where you...were...”

Just at the sight of him, you don’t even get the chance to speak before the tears spill over and down your cheeks.

“M-Mitsu-uya!”

That’s the only remotely coherent word that comes out of your mouth as you start blubbering. You try to speak but nothing comes out right. You try to tell him that the girls are gone—no, that you lost them.

Mitsuya’s hands are on your shoulders in an instant, urging you to calm down first, which only makes you cry harder, knowing how mad he was about to be once he knew the truth.

“Hey, hey. Calm down,” he tells you, his voice soft. He keeps his hands on your shoulders which helps to ground you since you’re a second away from going in a catatonic state. He makes you look at him before saying, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“The girls!” you cry, vehemently. “Are gone!”

You tremble in his grasp, sobbing as you manage to choke out words like “bathroom,” “one second,” and “looked everywhere.”

The whole time, Mitsuya looks confused as he tries to decipher your discombobulated speech, but it’s through those key words that he begins to understand because he suddenly pulls you into his chest and comforts you with a hug.

Although you’re confused as to why he would hug you for losing his sisters, you can’t help but cry in his arms like a baby.

He shushes you as he rubs your back to soothe you. But what he says next, makes you feel like you’ve been doused with cold water.

“Hey…hey...they’re not gone.”

You freeze, mid-cry, then pull away to look at him in confusion.

“What?”

He smiles at you, sympathetically. “They’ve been with me the whole time.”

Your lip trembles as you look at him like he just spoke a foreign language.

“B-But the b-bathroom and t-they…”

“They ran off without telling you and made you worry,” he finishes, before pulling you in for another much needed hug. “I’m so sorry they did that to you. I assumed you knew they left.”

He pulls away to look at you again. “We actually did wait for you, at first.”

Mitsuya explains what likely happened.

Just after purchasing a new shirt, on his way back to meet you near the restrooms, the girls had come running up to him, telling him you were still going. Then, Mana had caught glimpse of a clown giving out balloons and begged Mitsuya to let her get one, which he did since they were free. What he didn’t expect was for Mana to lose her grip on the balloon and then immediately chase after it.

He and Luna had to go after her and that’s likely when you came out of the bathroom thinking they were missing.

Mitsuya lets out a little relieved chuckle while his hands still steady you.

“They’re right over there, actually,” he says, tilting his head to the side.

You blink, still sniffling. “W-What?”

His gaze shifts past you, before calling his sisters. “Luna! Mana!”

You follow his line of sight, eyes still blurred with tears.

And there they are. Standing in line at the Dippin’ Dots stand.

Completely fine.

Completely unharmed.

Your face scrunches up all over again, but this time it’s from sheer disbelief.

Both girls turn at the sound of their names, their expressions bright until they see you, and your tear-streaked face, shaking and clinging to their brother.

Their smiles drop instantly.

“Oh…” Luna’s voice is small as Mana grips her older sister’s sleeve.

They both look at each other and then back at you. That’s when you know they understand what they did.

Mitsuya gestures for them to come, so they leave the line, walking over to you both slowly, like two kids who know they’re in big trouble.

“Um…” Luna starts when they get over to you, while fidgeting with her fingers. “We were just…”

“Sorry!” Mana blurts out, cutting her older sister off.

Luna nods quickly. “We didn’t mean to run off like that. We just thought it would be funny and that you would find us with Oni-chan.”

Mitsuya’s hands leave your back, but only to rest on the tops of his little sister’s heads.

“Hey,” he says calmly, but still firm. “You two don’t leave like that without telling someone. Especially not in a crowded place like this.”

The girls lower their heads.

“Sorry, Oni-chan.”

His gaze softens, but he doesn’t let them completely off the hook.

“You guys scared her.”

And that’s when it really hits them. Both girls look back up at you, this time with guilt written all over their little faces.

Your chest tightens in response, and just like that, you fold just as quickly as Mitsuya had earlier when Mana had accidentally spilled her drink on him.  

With those faces, you can’t even be mad.

“I-It’s okay,” you manage to say through your sniffles. “Just…don’t do it again, okay?”

Luna and Mana both nod, immediately.

“We won’t,” Luna promises.

There’s a pause, then Mitsuya softly asks, “Do you still wanna get Dippin’ Dots with us?”

You let out a shaky laugh, somewhere between exhausted and relieved.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I do.”

For a moment, Mitsuya watches you—like really watches you, noticing the way you didn’t snap at them and the way you stayed, shaking, but still smiling anyway.

“You really care about them, don’t you?” he asks.

“Of course,” you respond, wiping your eyes. They were his little sisters, and you knew he cared about them more than anything. Because you cared about him, that meant they were like your little sisters, too.  

The corner of his mouth turns up as he smiles before hugging you to him again, placing an affectionate hand on the back of your head. “You cared enough to search the whole carnival for them. That means more than you know.” 

He then softly whispers, just for you, “Thank you.”

Comforted, you feel yourself settle in his arms as your racing heart returns back to its normal beat.  

He then takes your hand and the four of you finish off the day with Mitsuya treating you all to Dippin’ Dots ice cream and the fireworks show the carnival holds, afterwards.

As the chaos melts into warmth, the girls cling to both your hands, while Mitsuya remains quietly grateful that you had passed the most unexpected test of the day. 

[elicalace]

megumi with a feminine girlfriend <3

when megumi told his friends he was dating you, the first reaction was pretty much the same for everyone — a mix of 'no way' and 'i don't believe you'. the worst part? he couldn't even blame them.

megumi would describe himself as introverted and probably pretty anti social. so when you walked up to him one day and started talking to him like you knew him for years? yeah he knew he was a goner. but honestly he never understood it — you were so beautiful, pink and glittery. him, on the other side, looked like he didn't know any other colors other than black and blue.

and somehow, he still fell inlove with you. he realised it soon when he missed the splash of vivid colors in his dorm or the sweet strawberry vanilla scent you left anywhere you went.

imagine his shock when you, yes you, confessed to him first — your eyes glassy like you were actually scared he might not feel the same way. and yet, the only thing he noticed in that moment was how cute your lips looked with the pinkish gloss.

when you started dating, no one really noticed the change — you always used to kiss his cheek even as friends, and he didn't go around to brag — not because he was ashamed, but because he always was one to admire you quietly. he never hid the relationship, he just didn't announce it shouting like yuji would.

so, when one day, when you joined megumi at training, which doesn't happen often, chaos unfolded. you strut down to watch him train in the sun, your pink customized uniform (curtesy of gojo) shining in the sun. megumi didn't see you immediatly, too focused on fighting off maki.

after the sparring match (which he lost) he finally saw you — sitting on the bench with some kind of iced drink. taking a break, he walked over to you, a small smile on his face at your obnoxious waving. "what are you doing here? i thought you went shopping." he takes the drink you're silently offering him, taking a sip from the sugary liquid. definetly your taste.

"hey babe! i was, but after i bought three bags my arms started to hurt so i came back. i found these really cute purple heels that match that skirt i bought last week, do you remember which one? oh and i also found these new gloss that tastes like strawberry..." he's listening to you rambling off about whatever you bought today, following your every word with quiet acknowledgment.

"do you have the new gloss on right now?" his question throws you off, making you halt your story telling. "yes how did you know? wanna try it? i have it in my bag!" while your searching your bag — which was filled with sweets, lipgloss and perfume, megumi's eyes don't leave you. he doesn't even realise maki is yelling at him to come train until yuji shouts like a gorilla making him jump.

"can i try the gloss?" the question would be weird for anyone else but you always make him put on some to 'taste test' it. "i'm not finding it right now ugh and you have to go—" he cuts you off with a direct kiss on your lips. right there in front of everyone — you swear you hear nobara gasp.

either way, you kiss him back, the gloss transfering onto your boyfriends mouth. it's a rather quick kiss, not wanting to put on a show infront of everyone. when he pulls back his forehead against yours, his breath stutters. "it tastes nice."

you don't have time to answer — he walks back to the training ground, ignoring the way everyone is looking at him. guess they finally know you're really dating.

[cherryberrycheol]

Insatiable | Choi Seungcheol | 🔞

Pairing: choi seungcheol x fem!reader

Summary: It is one of those days when you and Seungcheol are both working from home. Notoriously, no work gets done on days like this one.

Word count: 6.6k

Genres/warnings: smut, pwp (plot? what plot?); non-idol au, loser!nerd!perv!seungcheol, established relationship, honestly i can stop at pwp, cheol is a simp and we're not surprised; lmk if i skipped anything important

Smut warnings: Minors DNI, thicc dicc!cheol, implied size difference, dirty talk (of course), slow piv sex, unprotected (this is how we roll here; but please be safe irl), creampie, they continue being horndogs, reader takes charge, light hints of pet play; oral (f rec), face sitting, some brief hand job (m. rec), orgasm denial/control, edging, kinda ruined orgasm, cheol is down bad as always, he's sweetly pathetic, reader is on the phone with her manager when cheol fucks her (oops, don't do it irl kids); see anything i missed? please lmk

A/N: everyone say thank you, seungcheol for that live he held. it gave me the idea of writing a full scene of what i only mentioned briefly in the main fic, though the action here takes place after the main story. as always, enjoy your read and i’ll be happy to see your feedback in any form you’re comfortable with: comments, asks or reblogs. and i will see you in my next fic ᙏ̤̫

You can read it separately but I would recommend reading all of it for the full experience of this couple :)

If you see any mistakes: I try to proofread but English isn’t my first language, proceed at your own discretion.

Masterlist. | PART 1

Seungcheol is forty-seven minutes deep into this video call and he has absorbed precisely none of it. His manager's voice comes through the headset like a monotone hum. He can swear this woman's voice is designed to sandpaper the edges of his sanity. On screen, a grid of eight faces, all feigning attention, and his own small rectangle in the corner shows a man who hasn't blinked in thirty seconds because he's too busy tracking a silhouette moving past the doorway.

That's you. Just a flicker of movement—bare legs, the hem of an oversized t-shirt he knows is his, the soft grey one you stole three months ago and never gave back—and his concentration detonates. His cock twitches against his thigh, a slow, traitorous swell that has nothing to do with whatever the hell his manager is droning on about.

Seungcheol leans back in his chair, the springs groaning under his weight, and tilts his head just enough to catch a sliver of the kitchen through the gap in the doorframe. You're at the counter now, back to him, reaching to open the microwave. The t-shirt stretches, outlining the curve of your butt. Suddenly, the fabric rides up as you tiptoe to grab something from the cupboard above and the very bottom of your ass peeks out, bare and soft-looking, and he has to swallow a sound that would get him fired.

"—and moving forward, I think we need to restructure our code reviews which are taking two days on average," his manager drones, and Seungcheol wants to scream. Fuck them code reviews. He's going to lose his mind. He's going to combust in this ergonomic chair and they'll find him as nothing but a pile of ash and a half-hard dick.

His fingers drum against the armrest. He risks another glance. You're bent over now, rummaging in the fridge, and the t-shirt has ridden up so high he can see the crease where your thigh meets your ass. Seungcheol knows exactly how that crease tastes. He knows the sound you make when he presses his tongue flat against it and drags upward. He knows the way you shudder, the way your hand fists in his hair, the way you always whisper his name in a mix of a curse and a prayer.

Fuck. His cock is fully hard now, a rigid line trapped in his sweatpants and boxer briefs in a way that's becoming painful. He shifts in his seat, trying to find relief, and accidentally knocks his knee against the underside of his desk with a dull thud that makes his microphone—that he forgot to mute—spike.

"You okay there, Seungcheol?" His manager's voice cuts through, and for one horrifying second his heart stops. But he quickly realises that it's just the noise that drew her attention. Just the thud.

"Yeah, fine," he says, and his voice comes out strained, a little too tight. "Just—hit my knee on the table."

He mutes himself. Lets out a breath that shakes. Rubs his palm over his face and tries to think about spreadsheets. Deadlines. Anything except you currently being in the kitchen or the way you looked this morning when you rolled out of bed, hair a disaster, his t-shirt swallowing you, and kissed him on the forehead before padding to the bathroom. Domestic shit. Soft, sweet, married-couple shit that still makes his chest ache even now, months in, even after everything.

It's worse now. That's the thing. He thought it would level out—the insatiable, clawing need that's been devouring him since that first drunk night on the couch. He thought once the novelty wore off, once you'd had each other in every conceivable position on every conceivable surface, the fever would break and you'd settle into something manageable. Normal.

It didn't.

It got so much worse.

Last Friday, for instance. You both worked from home. By his generous estimate, you managed three hours of actual productivity between you. The rest of the day dissolved into a blur of skin and sweat and the obscene, wet sound of his cock sliding into you over and over. He bent you over your desk during what was supposed to be a fifteen-minute coffee break and didn't pull out for forty-five. You sucked him off under his desk during a monthly team call on Google Meet, his teeth sinking into his fist and leaving marks just to keep from moaning into an unmuted mic, his eyes watering with restraint of not rolling back into his skull. Seungcheol fucked you against the hallway wall on the way to the bathroom, one hand clamped over your mouth, your legs wrapped around his waist, your nails carving trenches into his shoulders through his shirt. By the end of the day you couldn't walk straight. Neither could he. You ordered pizza and ate it cross-legged on the floor of your living room, half-naked, feeding each other slices and communicating with humms and grunts because forming full thoughts and voicing them felt like mission impossible. And then he got hard again just from watching you lick grease off your thumb, and you let him lay you back on the soft carpet and fill you up again, until you were both too wrecked to move.

So yeah. It didn't level out. It metastasised.

And now it's Tuesday, and he's been on this call for almost an hour, and you are a room away, in the kitchen, heating up leftovers, and his entire body is humming with want. He can smell you from here. He swears he can—that faint, familiar scent of your body wash and underneath it, the warm scent of your skin that makes his mouth water and his brain go syrupy and stupid.

"—so if everyone could have their reports in by Thursday," his manager is saying, finally, mercifully, "that would be great. Any questions? No? Great. Thanks, everyone."

The call ends. Seungcheol doesn't even say goodbye. He yanks the headset off, tosses it onto his desk, and is out of the bedroom before his chair stops spinning.

You hear him coming. He's not particularly secretive about his arrival—the heavy, purposeful tread of a man who spends too much time at the gym and hasn't learned to move quietly in a shared apartment. But you don't turn around. You're standing at the counter, reaching for the microwave handle, when his arms wrap around you from behind and his body folds over yours like a collapsing star.

He's so big. That's the first thing you register, the same thing you register every time—the sheer, enveloping mass of him. His chest presses against your back, solid and warm through the thin fabric of your—his—t-shirt. His arms circle your waist, thick and possessive, and his face buries into the crook of your neck with a sound that can only be described as a whimper.

"You're done?" you ask, not bothering to hide the amusement in your voice.

"Finally," he mumbles against your skin. His lips move as he speaks, brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear, and you have to suppress a shiver. "Thought she was never going to shut up. I was losing my mind."

"Yeah, I could hear her from here. That voice is something else. Like a sadistic lullaby."

Seungcheol huffs a laugh, his breath warm and damp against your throat. "It's not funny. I was suffering."

"Poor baby." You tilt your head, giving him more access without thinking, your body responding to his proximity the way it always does—on instinct, on autopilot, like your nerve endings have been rewired to recognise him as a primary need. Purely Pavlovian response. "My heart bleeds for you and your very important corporate meeting."

"Don't be mean." He pouts. You can't see his face but you know he's pouting—you can hear it in the way his voice goes soft and petulant, the way his lower lip juts out. "I missed you."

"I was literally a wall away."

"That's a wall too far."

The microwave beeps. You reach for it again, but Seungcheol's hand catches yours first. His fingers slide between yours, locking them together, and he pulls your hand back down, pressing it flat against the counter top. His other hand slips under the hem of your shirt and settles on your lower belly, palm warm and broad and possessive.

"Food can wait," he murmurs.

You open your mouth to argue, to tease him about being a needy, insufferable menace, but then his palm presses down. Just a little. Just enough to apply pressure, to make you aware of the heat pooling low in your abdomen, of the way your body responds to him on a level that has nothing to do with conscious thought. An involuntary sound escapes your throat—small, breathy, embarrassing—and you feel your pussy clench around nothing.

"That's what I thought," he says, and there's a smile in his voice now, satisfied and soft and infuriating.

His lips find the junction of your neck and shoulder. He kisses you there, slow and open-mouthed, and then his teeth graze your skin and you stop breathing for a second.

"Cheol."

"Mm?"

"You're doing that thing."

"What thing?" He does it again—a gentle scrape of teeth, followed by the wet, soothing press of his tongue—and your knees go weak.

"That thing where you—where you turn me into—" You can't finish the sentence. His lips have found a new spot, just above your collarbone, and he's sucking a bruise into existence with the kind of focused intensity he usually reserves for boss fights in Elden Ring. Your brain fills with static. Your hands grip the edge of the counter. "—into a—fuck."

"Into a what?" He pulls back just long enough to speak, his voice low and rough and dripping with false innocence. "Use your words, baby."

"I hate you."

"No you don't." Kiss. Bite. Suck. "You love it. You love when I make you all dumb and shaky. When I take my time and turn you into a little mess before I've even touched you properly." Another kiss, this one pressed to the shell of your ear. "I know you're clenching even without touching you, baby. You think I'm not aware? Oh, I am. I know your body better than I know my own at this point."

You think of saying something sharp, to cut through the haze and reassert some semblance of control. But Seungcheol is right. He does know your body. He's spent months mapping every inch of it with his hands and his mouth and his cock, learning every spot that makes you gasp, every rhythm that makes you fall apart. And right now, with his palm still pressing on your lower belly and his lips trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, the only thing your brain can produce is a stream of increasingly pathetic sounds.

You think, distantly, about the irony of it. Months ago you called him a loser to your friend. You rolled your eyes at his compression shirts and his anime figures and his inability to talk to women. And now here you are, melting into a puddle of need because he's kissing your neck and breathing on you. Your friends have noticed, of course. Because you can't exactly hide it. You walk into every brunch, every cafe meetup, wearing the unmistakable glow of a woman who's getting thoroughly, regularly, devastatingly fucked. Loud and proud as they say.

Seungcheol's fingers have trailed lower while you were lost in thought. They're resting on the waistband of your underwear now, tracing the elastic edge with a maddening lightness that makes your hips twitch.

"Mmm, bet you're so wet already," he murmurs, and you can hear the satisfaction in his voice, the smug, reverent delight. "I haven't even done anything and you're soaking through your panties, aren't you? What am I going to do with you?"

"I don't know," you manage, your voice coming out embarrassingly breathy. "Maybe actually fuck me instead of just talking about it?"

"Impatient." He nips at your earlobe. "I like it."

His fingers dip lower, pressing against you through the damp cotton of your underwear and finding his theory to be true. The pressure is light, teasing, nowhere near enough, and you can feel your pussy clenching and throbbing again, desperate for more, desperate for anything. Behind you, pressed against the curve of your ass, his cock is a hard, insistent weight. He's been half-hard since the call started—you could guess from the way he was squirming in his chair, the way his eyes kept cutting toward the kitchen—but now he's fully erect, thick and hot even through the layers of his sweatpants and your t-shirt that barely covers your ass anymore. He rocks against you, a slow, deliberate grind, and the friction makes you both groan.

"Thought about this the whole call," he says, his voice dropping into that lower register that makes your stomach flip. "Thought about bending you over this counter. Thought about pulling these little panties to the side and sliding into you while you're still trying to heat up your stupid breakfast leftovers. Thought about filling you up so full you'd be leaking me all afternoon while you sit in your meetings pretending to be a professional."

"That's—" You swallow, hard. "That's what you were thinking about? During a work call?"

"Every second." Seungcheol grinds against you again, and this time you can feel the full length of him, the girth that still makes your mouth water even after all these months. "Couldn't focus. Couldn't think about anything except your tight little cunt and how bad I need to be inside it. How bad I need to use it."

He says that and lets out a shameful pathetic mewl.

The word "use" and the desperate sound that escapes him land in your chest and detonate. You know what he's doing—he's working you up, talking filth the way he knows you like, the way that makes you weak and pliant and ready to let him do anything. And normally you would let him. Normally you would let him spin you around, bend you over, and fuck you stupid right here against the kitchen counter, and you would come apart on his cock and thank him for it afterwards.

But thanks to his little pathetic display you're feeling something else. Something sharper. Seungcheol spent an hour squirming in his chair thinking about using you? Fine. But you spent that same hour catching glimpses of him in his stupid soft flannel shirt, his hair messy, his brows furrowed, his plush lips wrapped around his water bottle, and you've been simmering with your own kind of want. And maybe it's the oncoming ovulation hormones, or maybe it's the way he whimpered when he first wrapped his arms around you and mewled just now, but something in you decides that today, you're not going to be the one who gets reduced to a mindless, begging mess.

Today, that's going to be him.

His fingers have slipped under the waistband of your panties now, tracing through your slick folds with a slow, exploratory pressure that makes your breath hitch. He's about to push inside—you can feel the tension in his wrist, the way his breathing has gone ragged against your neck—when you reach around with your free hand and squeeze his cock through his sweatpants.

Hard.

Seungcheol makes a sound you've never heard before. A choked, strangled yelp that's half surprise and half something else entirely. His whole body jerks against you, his hips bucking into your grip, and his fingers freeze where they are.

"What—" he starts, but you squeeze again, and the word dissolves into a whimper.

"Here's what's going to happen, baby," you say, and your voice comes out breathless but somewhat steady. "You're going to take your hand out of my panties. You're going to get on your knees. And you're going to do exactly what I tell you. Got it, hmm?"

Seungcheol doesn't answer immediately. His chest is heaving against your back, his cock throbbing in your grip, and you can feel the war happening inside him—the instinct to take over, to reclaim control, wrestling with the part of him that loves this, the part that goes soft and eager and desperate when you turn the tables.

"Got it?" you repeat, and you twist your wrist just enough to make him gasp.

"Yeah," he breathes, voice going a little higher than usual. "Yeah, okay. Got it."

"Good boy."

The words hit him like a physical blow. You feel the full-body shudder that runs through him, the way his cock kicks against your palm, the way his breathing goes even more ragged and uneven. He pulls his hand out of your panties slowly, reluctantly, and you release your grip on him just long enough for him to step back.

"Strip," you say as soon as you turn around to see him.

He does. He pulls his t-shirt over his head first, revealing the broad expanse of his chest, the thick shoulders and defined pecs, the trail of dark hair that runs down his stomach and disappears into the waistband of his sweats. Then his pants go, pushed down over his hips, and his boxers with them, until he's standing naked in the middle of the kitchen with his cock jutting up toward his belly, flushed dark at the tip and already leaking.

You take a moment to look at Seungcheol. It never gets old—the sheer size of him, the thickness, the way his cock curves just slightly, so pretty. The way it twitches under your gaze like it's begging for attention—and you bet it is. The way his balls hang heavy and full, a reminder that he hasn't come since yesterday morning, which in his case means he's already backed up and desperate and so, so easy to break.

"You're so pretty," you murmur, and you mean it. "Look at you. Standing there dripping for me. Such a desperate pathetic mess already and I haven't even touched you."

His cock gives you an eager reaction, twitching and bobbing up and down at your words, and you smile at how it throbs, almost like it's whining and jumping for you to touch it. Seungcheol's ears go red. That very deep, mortified flush that you've been watching since the very first night, except now it makes your chest ache with something tender and possessive instead of irritated. "Baby—"

"On your knees," you order softly, lips stretched in the sweetest of smiles.

He drops so fast you hear his knees hit the tile. You wince, breaking character just for a moment, worried, but Seungcheol doesn't seem to care at all, he is looking up at you with those big brown eyes, pupils blown wide, lips parted, and he is so fucking wreckable in this very moment that it makes your pussy clench and you don't even notice as you slip back into the little play the two of you are orchestrating.

"Please," he whispers, and he doesn't even know what he's asking for. He just knows he needs something, anything, as long as it is from you.

"Please what?" you hum, watching his eyes turn even shinier than before. He's so pretty like this it is unfair. Not for the first time he's giving you aggression urges.

"Please let me taste you. Need to put my mouth on you. I've been thinking about it all morning—thinking about how you taste, how soft and warm you feel on my tongue—please, baby? I need it—"

"Shh." You step forward, close enough that he can smell you again—his nostrils visibly flare when he silently inhales you—and you can feel his exhale ghost against your thighs. "I know. I know you've been a desperate little puppy all morning, couldn't even pay attention to your stupid meeting because you were too busy thinking about my pussy. Isn't that right?"

He nods, frantic, his hands twitching at his sides like he's physically restraining himself from grabbing you. You wouldn't mind if he did, to be fair. "Yes. Yes, that's right. Couldn't—couldn't think about anything else. Just you. Just your sweet pussy. Just how bad I wanted to be inside it." He whimpers and squirms on his knees, and his cock twitches again at the image growing vivid in his head.

"And instead you're on your knees." You reach down, thread your fingers through his hair, and tug—not hard enough to hurt, only to tilt his head back and make him look at you. "Because you're not in charge right now. I am. And I decide when you get to touch me. I decide when you get to cum. Understood?"

"Understood." His voice is wrecked already, and you haven't even started.

"Good." You release his hair and hop up onto the edge of the counter, spreading your legs. "Now be a good boy and get to work."

You pat your thigh and Seungcheol doesn't need to be told twice. His hands find your thighs, tugging your underwear off with urgent impatience before spreading you wider to make room, and then his mouth is on you and the world dissolves into sensation for both of you.

Seungcheol eats pussy like he's been starving for years and you're the first meal he's been served. His tongue is broad and wet and relentless, licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit with a pressure that makes your hips immediately buck against his face. He genuinely moans when he tastes you, like the flavour of your arousal is the best thing he's ever experienced—and the vibration against your clit sends a shockwave up your spine, makes your soles tingle and toes curl.

"Fuck," you breathe, one hand bracing against the counter, the other fisting in his hair. "That's it. That's—right there—"

He stays there. His tongue circles your clit in slow, deliberate strokes, and then his lips close around it and he sucks, and your vision whites out for a second, an involuntary squeal leaving your mouth.

"Oh my god—" you pant, voice getting strained and high-pitched with pleasure.

He hums against you, pleased, and the vibration makes you jolt again. His hands are gripping your thighs hard enough to leave marks, holding you open for him, and his tongue keeps working you in a rhythm that's devastatingly precise. He knows exactly what you like. Of course he does. He's spent months learning your body like a language, and now he's fluent.

But you're not going to let him make you come just yet. You tug on his hair, pulling him back, and he looks up at you with his face slick and shining, his lips swollen and wet, his eyes hazy and half-lidded with want.

"Why'd you stop me?" he whines. "I wasn't done. You taste so good, baby, please let me finish—"

"Because I want to sit on your face."

His eyes go wide. Then darken. His cock, which has been bobbing neglected against his stomach, twitches and throbs visibly, a fresh bead of precum welling at the tip.

"Fuck," he whispers. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I want that. Please."

"Get on the floor then."

He lies down on the kitchen tiles without a shred of dignity, his cock standing up like a flagpole, his chest heaving. You slide off the counter and stand over him for a moment, looking down at the picture he makes—this big, muscular man, sprawled on the cold floor, looking up at you like you're the sun and the moon and every star in the sky, his cock leaking all over his own stomach.

"You're so pathetic," you tell him, and you mean it as the highest compliment.

"I know," he breathes. "I'm your pathetic little puppy. Now please—please sit on my face. I need your cunt on my tongue. Need you to smother me with your sweet pussy, baby."

Gosh, you both are so fucking nasty for each other, you chuckle and lower yourself down, kneeling carefully over his head. The first contact of his tongue against your pussy makes you both groan—him from the taste, you from the sensation of his mouth working you open while you settle your full weight onto him. Your thighs bracket his head, and his hands come up to grip your ass, guiding you, pulling you down harder, to sit your entire weight on him.

You let Seungcheol work for a while. Let his tongue fuck into you, let his lips close around your clit, let him moan and whimper against your flesh while you rock your hips in slow, lazy circles. But you have other plans for him, so you twist just enough to reach back, your hand finding his cock where it's standing rigid and neglected.

The sound he makes when you wrap your fingers around him is muffled by your pussy, and you feel the desperate, broken groan that vibrates through your entire body. You stroke him slowly, from base to tip, your thumb swiping over the slick, swollen head to collect the precum that's been pooling there just to massage his frenulum and make the man twitch and jerk his hips uncontrollably, losing all pace of his oral ministrations.

"Look at you," you murmur, looking down at him. "So hard for me. So wet. You're dripping all over yourself. Such a pretty mess, hmm."

He can't answer. His mouth is full of your cunt, his tongue buried inside you, and all he can do is whine and buck his hips into your grip, either encouraging or just sensitive.

"Is this what you wanted? When you were sitting in your meeting with your cock all hard and aching? You wanted to be on your back on the kitchen floor, being used like a toy?"

Seungcheol nods frantically, his nose bumping against your clit, and the sensation makes you gasp.

"That's what I thought. You're nothing but a dumb mutt when I get my hands on you. What a sight, huh? A big, strong man reduced to a whimpering mess on the floor. Your friends have no idea, do they? Do they think you're this alpha male now? That you're the cool guy of the group after you bagged me, hmm?” You apply more weight onto his face and Seungcheol groans against you, soft tongue licking deeper into your heat, coaxing a moan out of you. "Should we let them know that you actually love getting on your knees for me? Love being a good puppy for me?"

You twist your wrist on the upstroke, and his hips stutter, his cock pulsing in your grip. He's close. You can feel it in the way his thighs are tensing, the way his breathing has gone ragged and uneven, and the way his tongue has lost its rhythm against your pussy because he can't concentrate on anything except the pleasure you're wringing out of him.

"Are you going to come?" You ask sweetly. "Are you going to spill all over yourself and make a mess like a good little slut?"

He tries to nod again, but you're already pulling your hand away.

"Too bad," you say, and his desperate, wounded keen is the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. "You don't get to cum until I say so. And I haven't said so."

"Please," he gasps, his mouth finally free of your pussy because you've lifted your hips just enough to look down at him. His face is a mess—lips swollen, cheeks flushed, chin slick with your arousal. "Please, baby, I need to cum. I've been thinking about it all day. I can't—"

"Oh, but you can." You climb off him, and he whines at the loss of contact, his hands reaching for you instinctively. "Get up. Bend me over the counter."

Seungcheol scrambles to his feet so fast he nearly slips and you snicker, telling him to be careful. His cock is an angry red, throbbing visibly, a steady stream of precum dripping from the tip on every twitch. He looks ruined already, and you haven't even let him inside you yet.

You turn around and brace yourself against the counter, arching your back, presenting yourself to him. You're soaked—your thighs are glistening, your pussy is swollen and dripping with a mix of your juices and his spit, and you know exactly what he's seeing right now.

"Now you can fuck me," you tell him. "Slow. Exactly the way I want it. And you're not going to come. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he breathes, steps closer behind you. "Yes, I understand. I'll be good. I'll be so good for you."

He lines himself up. You feel the blunt, thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance, and even though you're wet and open and ready, the stretch is still overwhelming. Seungcheol pushes in slowly, inch by inch, spreading your walls, filing the empty space that begged to be filled, and you both groan in unison as he fills you.

"Fuck," he whispers. "Fuck, baby, you're so tight. You're always so tight. How are you still so tight?"

"Shut up and move."

He pulls out almost all the way, making you feel the way his veined shaft drags against your sensitive walls, and then pushes back in. Seungcheol fucks you exactly the way you told him to—slow, deep, each thrust deliberate and measured. His hands are gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, and you can hear the effort it's taking him to hold back, the way his breathing is coming in ragged gasps, the way he's trembling against you.

"You feel so good," he babbles again. "You feel so fucking good, baby, I can't—I don't know how much longer I can—"

"You can last as long as I tell you to last." But your voice is shaking now too. The angle is perfect, his cock hitting that spot inside you with every slow, grinding thrust, and you're getting close yourself. "Don't you dare cum without permission. Don't you fucking dare."

"I won't. I won't, I promise, just—please, can I go faster? Please?"

"No. Keep it slow. I want to feel every inch of you."

He whimpers, but he does what he's told. His thrusts stay slow and deep, his cock dragging against your walls, and you can feel the orgasm building in your core, coiling tighter and tighter—

Your phone rings.

Your intuition immediately screams at you that it must be someone from work.

"Fuck," you hiss in half frustration, half panic. "Fuck, Cheol, stop, I have—have to take this—"

You try to pull away, but his grip on your hips tightens. "No," he whines. "No, baby, please, I'm so close, don't stop me—"

Somewhere in the back of your mind you feel bad for the man, he sounds so ruined.

"I'm not asking." You pull yourself off his cock with a wet, obscene sound, and Seungcheol makes a noise like you've stabbed him. His cock bobs in the air, angry and neglected, throbbing and jumping with denied orgasm. A thick strand of your combined fluids connects him to your pussy for a brief moment before it snaps. He whines out a sob.

"You ruined it," Seungcheol breathes, and he sounds genuinely devastated. "You ruined my orgasm. Baby, why? I was right there—"

"Stay here," you order, already grabbing your phone from the kitchen table where it was resting forgotten all this time. "Don't move."

You answer the call as you walk toward your room, your voice switching to a semblance of something professional and pleasant even though your thighs are still wet and your pussy is still aching and empty. "Hey, yeah, sorry, just give me one second—"

You don't get your one second. Because Seungcheol, your sweet, pathetic, desperate boyfriend, has followed you despite what you told him to do.

You feel him before you see him—his body pressing up behind you, his hands gripping your hips, his cock sliding between your thighs, still slick with your arousal. You're standing in front of your desk, phone pressed to your ear, and he's already bending you forward, already lining himself up.

"No," you mouth silently, turning your head to glare at him. "Don't you dare."

Seungcheol meets your eyes. His are dark and wild and desperate, and there's something almost feral in his expression. He doesn't stop. He pushes inside you in one smooth, harsh thrust that jolts your entire body, and the sensation of intrusion is so sudden and overwhelming that you have to bite down on your own hand to keep from crying out. This leaves you with no support, which means you pretty much topple over, suddenly pressed into your desk with Seungcheol's hand that was applying pressure between your shoulder blades. 

"—and so I was wondering if you could take a look at this document before the meeting this afternoon," your team lead is saying in your ear, her voice cheerful and oblivious. "I know it's last minute, but I think there might be an error on page five."

"Of course," you manage, and your voice comes out surprisingly steady considering the fact that your boyfriend is currently buried balls-deep inside you, his hips already starting to move. "I can—I can do that. No problem."

Seungcheol fucks into you with slow, deliberate strokes, and you can feel him throbbing inside you, can feel how close he still is from before, how desperate. One of his hands slides up and down your back, pressing you down onto the desk before you can even think of lifting your upper body into an upright position, and the other grips your hip hard enough to anchor you in place.

"Great, thanks," your team lead says. "Also, I wanted to ask about the client presentation next week. Have you had a chance to—"

He chooses that moment to thrust particularly deep, his cock hitting your cervix, and a tiny, strangled sound escapes your throat before you can stop it.

"You okay?" your team lead asks.

"Yes," you say, and your voice is definitely too high. "Yes, sorry, I just—stubbed my toe. On the desk. It's fine."

Seungcheol leans down, his chest pressing against your back, his lips brushing your free ear. "Little liar," he whispers, so quiet only you can hear. "What will your boss do if she finds out you're getting fucked during your working hours?” He can't help a chuckle that escapes him when he comes up with his next question. "Hmm, does it make you a slut for fucking me and getting paid while doing so? Technically…" he trails off and your pussy clenches traitorously as soon as your brain registers what he just said.

You want to kill him. You want to kill him and then marry him and then kill him again.

"—and if you could send me the updated slides by end of day, that would be perfect," your team lead is saying.

"End of day," you repeat, barely processing the words. Seungcheol has picked up his pace, just slightly, and the sound of his cock sliding into your wet, messy pussy is so loud in the quiet room that you're sure your team lead can hear it if the line stays silent for a moment too long. "Yes. Slides. I'll—I'll send them."

"Are you sure you're okay? You sound a little off."

"I'm fine. I'm great. Just—writing it down."

Seungcheol muffles a laugh against your shoulder. His hand leaves your hip and snakes around to your front, finding your clit with devastating accuracy. Your whole body jolts.

"That's the spot, isn't it?" he breathes in your ear. "That's the spot that makes you stupid. You're going to come on my cock while you're on the phone, aren't you? You're going to soak me and she's going to hear it."

You shake your head frantically, but you can't speak. Your team lead is still talking, something about deadlines and team meetings, and you're nodding along and making vague sounds of agreement while your boyfriend rubs circles on your clit and fucks into you with deep, punishing strokes. You're trying so hard not to start panting or moaning, and your brainpower continues to slip from your grasp.

"I'm going to fill you up," he whispers. "I'm going to pump you so full of cum it'll be dripping out of you for the rest of the day. And you're going to sit in your meetings and feel it leaking into your panties, and you're going to think about me. About this. About how I ruined you while you were trying to be professional."

"Okay," you say into the phone, and you have no idea what you're agreeing to. "Okay, sounds good. I have to—I have to go now, I'll send those slides."

"No rush," your team lead says. "Talk later!"

You hang up with confused fingers, missing the red button on the screen a couple of taps before you finally manage to end the call. The phone clatters onto the desk.

And then you let yourself fall apart.

"Cheol—" It comes out as a loud sob, half fury and half desperate, overwhelming need. "You—you fucking—I can't believe you—"

"You loved it." He's not even trying to hide the smugness in his voice, but it's undercut by the way his hips are stuttering, the way his rhythm is falling apart. "You loved every second of it. I could feel you getting wetter and clenching around me when she asked if you were okay."

"I'm going to kill you—after—after I come—"

"Yeah?" He presses harder on your clit, circles it with the perfect pressure that he knows you enjoy, and the orgasm that's been building since the kitchen finally, finally explodes. "Then come for me. Now, baby. Let me feel it."

You shatter with a mewl. It rips through you like a thunderclap, your whole body seizing up, your pussy clamping down on his cock in rhythmic, pulsing waves. You scream—you can't help it, the sound tears out of you raw and unguarded after long minutes of trying to suppress it all—and Seungcheol groans and buries himself to the hilt, spilling inside you in hot, copious pulses.

He keeps thrusting through it, fucking his cum deeper into you, and you can feel it flooding you, filling you, leaking out around his cock in a white obscene ring and dripping down your thighs. He doesn't stop until he's completely spent, and then he collapses over you, his weight pressing you into the desk, his breath hot and ragged against the back of your neck.

For a long moment the room is silent. The only sounds are your mingled breathing and the faint, distant hum of the fridge in the kitchen.

Then: "You're a menace," you whisper, swallowing thickly and heaving a sigh.

He laughs, breathless and giddy and a little bit wrecked. "Yeah. But you're the same. And you love me."

You don't argue. You can't. Not when his cock is still inside you, still half-hard, still plugging you full of his cum. Not when you can already feel it starting to drip out despite his best efforts. Not when your legs are shaking so badly you're not sure you can stand if you try.

"Next time," you manage, "I'm locking you to a piece of furniture before I take a work call."

"Hmm, I think next time," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade, "you'll let me do it again. Because you're just as depraved as I am."

You hate that he's right. You hate it even more that you don't hate it at all.

*.(๓•͙ ˕ •͙๓).* Please like + reblog + comment if you enjoyed your time reading this! This means a lot and motivates me to continue posting.

Masterlist.

[megumios]

you look beautiful in the morning, especially in his shirt ୨୧ choso kamo x fem!reader ୨୧ future husband where are you

choso walks out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes and blinking away any sleepiness. it's late morning, and he can hear the sounds of sizzles and cracks in the kitchen.

he walks in and immediately takes notice of your appearace. messy hair and tired eyes, dressed in his shirt with nipples poking the fabric.

his breath hitches and he stands there watching you move around in the kitchen. you look so pretty, so arousing.

he walk up to you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist. he presses his hips against your ass, whimpering softly.

"feel that?" he whispers against your ear. it didn't take long for him to grow hard once he saw you in the kitchen.

he shirt barely covered your thighs, as soon as you bend down he would be able to see everything. the thought drives him crazy and his hands inch closer to the hem.

"we just woke up, cho." you say, not bothering to stop him from touching you. he doesn't answer, rubbing his bugle against your plush.

his hands move under your shirt, going up to your sweet cunt. his hands brush your thighs and then he stops.

what he didn't know, was that you weren't wearing any panties. now, he can feel your pretty pussy. he slides a finger in without hesitation and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"cho, im trying to cook." yet, you still don't move to stop him.

"please? it'll be quick."

you roll your eyes and sigh. he takes that as a yes and slides another finger into your pussy. he feels you melt back against him as he fingers your wet hole. you moan softly, holding onto the counter.

"fuck, baby, doing so good." you whimper. your head is thrown back against his shoulder and he kisses your cheek.

he works his fingers faster, his other hand finding your clit. the sensation is so delicious, you whine. you hear him chuckle as he fingers you.

he pulls away, making you whine at the loss of touch. you're about to turn around to scold him, but he pushes you against the counter.

he rubs his bulge on your ass before pulling his boxers off and letting himself spring out. his tips is red, leaking all over. he pumps himself, spreading the precum on his tip.

he lifts your shirt, lining himself up with your hole.

"so gorgeous." he whispers softly, pushing his way through your soaked hole.

"mm—cho fuck!" you mewl out, cheek pressed against the cool countertop. he pushes deeper till his hips meet your ass.

"big, cho, so big." you mumble, already forgetting how to come up with a single thought.

he rests his hands on your hips and starts to roll his hips against yours. it feels good. his tip kisses your walls softly, making love to your insides. you whine, squeezing your eyes closed.

"that's it, baby." he whispers, starting to thrust slowly. it feels ecstatic.

you cry out softly when his index finger rubs your clit. he rubs soft circles on the sweet bud, making you shutter and whine. "cho! more—ngh—please!"

he takes your plea and thrusts faster, holding your hips with one hand and playing with your clit with the other. it feels overwhelming. his size is huge, not fitting the first time you both made love.

you still haven't gotten used to the size of him. all you need is his hot tip and he'll somehow send you off.

his hips catch a steady pace. its fast and agressive, causing you to clench around him.

"fuck, pretty!" he whimpers, fucking you faster and faster with each thrust. your mouth drops open, spit pooling at the corner of your mouth.

"cho—ahh—ngh good, cho!" he takes your praise and fucks you harder. his finger works faster circles on your clit, flicking and rubbing you to oblivion.

he feels you clench around him tightly, squirming and whining. "close! faster—mmph—faster c-cho!"

his hips drill into yours, finger working on your bud and then he feels you clench. you squeeze him so tightly, he cums with you. he whines, crying out how good you feel.

you stay pressed to the counter, while he stays buried inside. you both pant, pussy pulsing around his cock. he pulls out slowly, making you moan at the sensitivity.

it goes quiet in the kitchen, the only sounds are your breathing. he pulls you back up, twirling you around and kissing your forehead.

"what were you making for breakfast?"