labec99 · 7 months ago
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I just really fucking hate having to deal with corporate software.
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littletrumpetcat · 3 months ago
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i got my wisdom teeth out (abridged version, i was not put under, i babysat a half hour later. long story) and i am in PAIN. also taking out the bloody mess of a gauze every hour fucking sucks. i almost yakked every time i pulled it out of my mouth. the worst part? every time i burp i taste remnants of paper towel. i need to know if anyone else can relate. this is so gross. im tired
#long story short i was going to go to the consultation then babysit#and it turns out the dentist was like 'wanna just get it done now? it'll only take a half hour'#'umm no thank u i have to babysit :) what about tomorrow?' 'really? tomorrow? you're already here!'#your tooth is already infected. you don't want to risk having to go to the emergency dentist' or something#'you don't want to have to drive back out tomorrow. our clinic prefers to do same day procedures'#like sure ok !#this was all said assuming i'd be able to handle babysitting after and the family that i work with was so sweet (albeit so confused about#it all haha)#i don't understand why my wisdom teeth removal had less recovery time and i didnt need to be put under#especially because i essentially needed a bone graft as well because of my sinuses being right next to my teeth#this isn't like a scammy dental clinic though i think there's so many stories of regular dentists trying to upsell#i did get a several hundred dollar discount on the procedure because they didn't take my insurance#only place that'd take my insurance is 2 hours away lol#my mom has a health insurance card she has to put money on every paycheck and in this instance it really worked out#bc if not itd never be taken care of#the gauze part was so hard#also the mom didnt come home til 45 minutes after i was supposed to go home and i was lowkey in agony#because the numbness wore off#and the gauze was so disgusting#i was like. so fed up i lowkey wanted to cry while building blocks with the little kid lol#ibuprofen fully kicked in as im typing this actually we r okay
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scringee · 7 months ago
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This is the only way to express how I'm feeling
#i try not to talk about my home life on here but im honestly so fucking frustrated that if i dont get this out i might just kill someone#my family car broke down in January of this year#my father refuses to get a new one because he thinks hes saving so mucj more money and he doesnt feel like he has any incentive#acting as if he was giving us free trips#i would literally pay him 100 dollars a fucking week to help take me in and out of work#and he just doesnt like acknowledge that at all#so now im having to take ubers to and from work every day. each trip is like 20+ dollars so that 40+ dollars a day five days a week#im averaging spending 200 dollars a week jusy to get into work#and i work a minimum wage shitty fucking job so all of my paycheck goes straight into ubers and fucking therapy every week#ive had to skip so many sessions becaause theyre all 50 dollars after insurance#and im just so frustrated#i want to move out so bad but how can i save enough if im constantly hemorrhaging cash#the only reason hes saving money is because he fucking works from home#i just dont know what to do at this point i feel so helpless#becayse even if hou casually bring it up my dad immediately assumes youre ATTACKING him and how DARE you and im tited im so fucking tired#how am i meant to move out in these conditions#how am i meant to do anything#i have no fucking social life because i literally just cant afford it im going to cry#i hate him. i hate my dad so fucking much#vent#ig.#scringee mouth
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dragons-and-yellow-roses · 9 months ago
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Guessssss what time it is??
7am
Guess who's still awake?
Me
Guess who has to feed their dog in two hours, and get ready for work in five hours?
Me
And guess who has to have a camp meeting directly after their work shift? And has to actually be coherent and make a schedule and discuss their ideas and needs for the summer?
Yeah you probs got it
Guess who won't be coherent for it?
Yeah
#i just feel like shit in my brain rn#i tried to start a new knitting project but the yarn was not cooperating so its just strewn all over my floor#ive played a lot of minecraft#i started watching the unsleeping city. i fucking love it so far#and noe im watching a youtuber react th five seconds flat by lizzy mcalpine#oh yeah i listened to that whole album earlier#after googling an ex to see how happy and successful she is without me#im moving in june. i just finished unpacking from when i moved in August#i think moving actually kills a part of your soul every time you do it#i lived in michigan most of my life. then moved to illinois when i turned 18#then a year and a half later i moved to wisconsin#now ive moved far far away from there. but it hasnt gone well. i moved in with my sibling#but i was only able to get a part time job. so im living paycheck to paycheck. incredibly not doing well#i dont like the environment here. the people are not the way that im used to#like im used to midwest nice. but here people are threatening to stab each other on the subway. its not ideal#there werent any fall colors. its only snowed twice. its just not for me. but i still did a lot of work to get here#i left everything i was used to. all of my friends. i cant remember where i was goinf with this#but my sibling and i are both struggling. so we decided to move back in with our parents for a year to save up#we're going to put what we used to pay in rent into a savings account for a down payment on a house#but right after finally unpacking i have to pack everything up again and rush back home#im just tired. so exhausted. mentally and physically. physically its gonna hit in the middle of my shift#mentally its been hitting every damn day. and i cant remember the last time i felt happy without also feeling#depressed or anxious or uncomfortable or unwanted or out of place#want to know whats happened so far? learned my best friend fucked my ex and now its not the same anymore#got a terrible ear infection. got bronchitis. one of the few friends i made moved out of the country#learned im not a beneficiary in my moms life insurance but my siblings are. learned my grandpa got engaged but he never told me#learned my parents bought a plot of land but they never told me. i think people just forget about me. or dont care that im here#i decided im gonna go no contact with my parents and grandpa after the year of living with them cuz i dont deserve this shit#anyway bye
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bunnys-kisses · 5 months ago
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house sitter au
while they serve their country, you serve them! *salute*
task force 141 are good at what they do. their ranks and medals are impressive, but it's hard coming home. home for them for a long time was a mediocre flat in central london that was vacant most of the year. it didn't help with the loneliness and disconnect the men felt after time abroad.
that's where you came in. an impressive resume and a bit of confidence that if you could handle toddlers, then you could handle four grown men!
when they were home, you helped clean and made meals. when they were away, you got free reign of the entire house. it didn't help that the paycheck every month was impressive.
the one thing they didn't tell you about the job was the lingering gazes of the men who you lived with. they never did anything, they wouldn't do anything without your consent. but when you were in the garden pulling out weeds (when was the last time the lawn was taken care of) you saw price by the doorway with a cup of tea in hand, watching you grumble to yourself. then when you were cooking lunch for yourself, you felt the hot gaze of johnny against your backside as you reached to the top shelf to grab some salt (who put this so high?). then it was simon's eyes on your lips as you enjoyed some ice cream after a long day dusting (how were these guys not sneezing from all the dust!). finally it was gaz who made a comment about how you looked nice when you were scrubbing the floors. he laughed it off as a joke, but the way he looked at you was a little more heated.
four pairs of eyes lingered on every part of your body, even the parts that you were insecure about. to end up in bed with them wasn't hard. it first started with the captain, then you made your way through the ranks.
price was burly and strong, he had you pinned under him on his large bed. his hands on your hips as he buried his cock into you. your ass in the air but your upper half was flat against the mattress, price soon interwove his fingers with yours as he thrusted into your sweet cunt. you realized soon after that he really liked when you called him captain. or better yet, daddy. you didn't know that you reeked of daddy issues, but price could smell it from a mile away. but don't worry, daddy's got ya. when he was finished fucking you, he'd play with your overstimulated clit while he smoked. he made sure to exhale away from you. he was the first however to punish you when you were being a 'bad' girl. sometimes it was shining his boots, other times you were the one getting his boots dirty. (hope you like rough laces against your soaked clit!)
johnny was a wild card. he liked to bite. and it wasn't like his teeth were too blunt to cause any damage. after the first time you were with him, you made him go to the drug store to buy you concealer to cover the jackson pollock-esque hickeys on your neck! he offered to buy you a collar to wear inside and you narrowed your eyes at him. "if anyone here needs a collar it's you, mactavish." but he could also be so sweet. while he liked it fast and rough, he always made sure his number one girl got to finish as well. usually before him. his kisses were sloppy, he was like a dog sometimes. his favourite place to fuck you however was in the yard outside. he usually have to shove his thick fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. no one needed to know just how NEEDY you were for his cock. the number of times the other men caught him just pounding your sweet cock, using that strength of his to his advantage was something else. and of course, when they caught you, they hung around. three other men watching you face down in the grass with johnny having you by the hips. his praise his filthy, almost degrading. you were his special girl, but you were also a massive whore. but don't worry, bonnie, johnny will happily fuck any hole you have open.
simon was difficult. he only found out that your legs were open for business after he heard you and johnny going at it. the sound of the bed creaking and the scottsman's filthy tongue. but unlike johnny, simon was a little too big for you. while your sexual encounters started with oral and fingering. he managed to get just the tip in. but it wasn't enough, he eventually sank every last inch. the feeling took the wind out of you and you couldn't sit right for days after. his pace was slow, methodical. he watched you with a keen eye. the rise and fall of your chest, the noises you made. he knew he was selfish for taking so much of you, but you were unlike anyone else. after that, he started to take his mask off more. if you saw (and felt) his cock, you might as well see what was under the mask. cue a lot of worship from you, kissing at his heavily scarred body. he'd just hold you in his arms while you were in his lap.
kyle was the sweetest which compared to the other hulking men you were living with. it wasn't a hard bar to clear. all of them complimented you, but kyle was the one who'd bring you flowers when he returned from a mission. he mostly liked to keep his intimate time with you in his bedroom. his favourite position was to take you on your side. him spooning you as he thrusted his cock into your tight pussy. his nose in your hair as he moved against you. he knew the other men were taking your pussy for a joy ride, so he wanted to make love to you. flowers, candles, sweet nothings. the only problem was, instead him wanting to jump your bones. you wanted to jump HIS bones. you got loads of body worship from him, lots of praise to. he also liked when you called him by his rank, while not AS impressive as captain or lieutenant, it was still something he was proud of. he'd take you missionary style but a lot of the time, loved having you on top. with the afternoon light bathing your body in golden rays. he rarely left marks or bruises. no one needed to see what you two did in your off time. it was a secret for him and him alone. regardless of how you two fucked, he was the king of after care, letting you rest as he would read to you. either the book he had picked up while away or an article on his phone. he chuckled when he heard you snoring.
but sometimes, it was hard to choose between two of them at a time. so you ended up with both johnny and simon's cock pushed inside of you. your mouth hung open and your mind drawing a blank. but don't worry, they're worshiping your cunt. cooing about how sweet it is that you can take BOTH of them. of course you could! you were made for them. your stomach feels dense after they cum inside you about three times. the feeling of their cum in your gut makes your lethargic and just curl up after they get their fill.
other times its kyle and price. while they aren't pushing your pussy to its absolute limit. it still takes a lot out of you. you were on the floor of price's bedroom, riding the captain while facing kyle who had his cock in your face. as you moved your hips against the older man, your mouth and hand were on the sergeant's cock. you found out that both men liked it when you were covered in their cum, not push it inside of you as deep as they could.
when those who hired you asked how the job was going after a few months. you meekly asked what the health insurance policy was and did it cover birth control *hides face*
(you'd find out within a year that no amount of pills, iuds, rings or implants could stop one of those boys from giving you a baby)
<3
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yanderenightmare · 5 months ago
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TW: yandere, noncon/dubcon, angst, unwanted pregnancy, blackmail, ish-baby trapping
PART ONE only avaliable on AO3 due to Tumblr restrictions
fem reader
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You went cold and forgot how to breathe.
When you got to the kindergarten, they told you his father had already come and collected him early. All looking at you as though you were crazy, assaulting the daycare workers with your hands in a bruising grip, shaking her by her shoulders—demanding she tell you where he took him. 
She spilled the name of some family restaurant down the road and said he’d wanted you to join them there. The poor thing was on the verge of tears when you let go.
Rushing out, you all but ran down the streets before pushing yourself through the doors—cold-sweating and swivel-eyed—in a panic, scanning faces with his name coming out weak under your breath. 
With your vision spinning, you felt faint before you heard it.
“Mommy! Mommy! You’re here! Look! I’m King of the castle!” he shouted, and your peeled eyes snapped to see him up high in a bright red plastic tower.
But before your shoes could hit the soft foam of the playground, you were intercepted by something larger.
“He’s fine,” he said under his breath, catching and stopping you in your beeline, holding you by the waist. “I need to talk to you.”
Something old and instinctive didn’t bother paying him heed—as if forgetting how to speak, you just ignored him in favor of pushing past him, eyes glued to the sight of your son blissfully unaware, playing with other kids with an oblivious smile on his face. But his grip was stronger than your instincts, firm enough to keep you still but not enough to hurt you, even when you tried twisting yourself free.
“Come on,” he urged.
You were about to sneer something, finally looking at his face—that face you hated—but the bark of curse words got held back.
“Look around you. Let’s not cause a scene.” The wild animal within went silent while your eyes flickered around at the surrounding picnic tables where families were having their dinner. “We can talk outside. My assistant will look after him.”
You didn’t feel much inclined to listen, but still, even though it made you hate to fold on his behest—reluctantly, you accepted the sense of what he was saying. Looking back at your son still laughing up in his tower with cinched brows. You didn’t want to scare him when he didn’t know what was going on, even though you felt the need to scream at the very top of your lungs.
You allowed him to lead you outside, but as soon as the fresh air welcomed your rigid state, you were at once whipping around and pushing him away. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” snarling at him. “How fucking dare you?!”
“Calm down. He might still see us,” he hushed, hands raised in halfhearted surrender, casting a nod to the glass walls separating you from the frivolity inside. “Let’s just talk rationally.”
“Rationally?!” you scoffed in a shout, eyes still manic. “You fucking kidnapped my son, you psycho-”
“You wouldn’t answer my texts or calls,” he snubbed. “He’s my son too-”
“Fuck you,” you interrupted to return the favor. “If you fuck with me on this, I swear I’ll ruin you.” You had a finger raised at him, breathing furiously—looking down-right mad—sweaty and disheveled from your run with your face twisted with such a state of frenzy. “I’ll tell everyone how I got him in the first place!”
Despite the threat, he didn’t seem all that fazed. 
“Think about it…” he said calmly, much in contrast to you. “Who do you think people will believe? A teenage mom abusing her son for a paycheck or his estranged father wanting to provide for him?”
You blanched, and before anything else made it out—whether it be more rage or something else, he was already further silencing you.
“Not to mention… the trial would be gruesome, and Junior would have to grow up with it always hanging over his head—is that really what you want?”
You look at him, and you still can't believe it. How could it have turned out like this? You’d been perfect only a month ago before he’d shown up at your apartment.
You thought you’d sent him on his way for good that day, but only now did you realize he had no plans to leave you alone.
“Come, let’s talk in the car. It’s cold, and you’re not dressed,” he ushered, taking your arm again where you stood, stunned and still, trying to wrap your head around his threats. Letting yourself be led into the black vehicle standing perfectly parked in its neat white rectangle.
You both got in the back with enough room to battle your homey sofa nook at home.
“I don’t want this to get ugly,” he started anew—his voice still so irritatingly calm, unfairly so. “I just want to see my son-”
“He’s not yours,” you croaked, feeling the situation slip from your fingers—battling a drumming heart, shifty breaths, and the mean sting of tears welling up in your eyes.
“If you try and keep him from me, I’ll sue for full custody. And given I’m the only one out of us who isn’t a pro-bono case and the only one with any future that isn’t managing a register, I’d say I have a pretty fair shot at winning.”
You can’t keep from bursting out crying then, overwhelmed by the fear of losing the only thing that mattered and the pure disgust of the man who’d given it to you. It felt like everything was tearing—your whole life—crumbling before your eyes.
“Don’t cry,” he soothed, his hand coming to drape your hunched shoulders where you held your tears. “I don’t want to take him away from you…” His attempt did little to comfort you, but the next words had your heart grasping for what little hope they offered. “And I’m not going to either.”
You looked at him through the hurt of swollen eyes, tears still falling while he wiped them away with the course pad of his thumb—rubbing your cheek affectionately. In any other circumstance, you’d surely slap him, but right now, all you could do was listen.
“I’m buying a house,” he revealed, still holding your cheek and gaze. “Fit for a family. Safe neighborhood, good school district, giant backyard.” The list went over your head—it was all too surreal to register. You couldn’t even fathom what he was getting at until, “I want the two of you to come live there with me.”
Stunned, you remained completely silent until the tears dried, and he let go of your face. 
“You don’t have to say anything right now.” He reaches across you and fetches the seatbelt before coming back over you to click it in place. “I’ll go get Junior and drive you home. Just stay here.”
You do as suggested and stay seated as he pops his door open and leaves—feeling all but cemented in place as your thoughts go tumbling around and around as if caught in a rip curl. When Junior jumps in beside you, a farfetched smile is all you can offer. Thankfully, he’s so enamored by a toy he’d gotten to notice much of your state.
When your door opens again, you’re led out and onto your neighborhood street. The fresh air does little to clear your mind. Feeling all but feverish as you hold Junior's small hand in yours while the man of your nightmares smiles all too fondly at the two of you.
“I’ll come pick you up after your shift on Monday.,” he says decidedly—cheerfully as he ruffles Junior’s hair enough to make him giggle. “Bring the rascal with you, and he can pick his room first.”
You weren’t planning on staying. You were never planning on staying—certain you would leave the second the opportunity to skip town arose—you just need to scramble the money together first. 
But the house was huge… nothing you could ever dream of, and while it made you desperate with grief, you couldn’t deny it either… Junior really loved having a dad.
It nearly brought sick to your throat to call him that. It was a shot through the heart every time you heard Junior’s boyish call, squealing with giggles, saying “Daddy, daddy, daddy-”
None of it seemed right to you. Seeing his bright smile, now at the age where a new tooth fell out every other week—looking so goofy as he proudly shows the two of you the new one he’d just knocked out playing soccer at school. “Mommy, Daddy, look!”
What’s worse is that you can't even deny how good the man you hate is at it all—spoiling him with gifts and making him laugh—giving piggyback ride after air-plane flight after tickle-fight and a game of tag and hide’n’seek. 
And it’s not just the easy stuff. He’s good at the shit that used to make you go crazy—putting him to bed, getting him dressed, making him eat the right stuff, and not just scuffle down candy. It’s as if the two of them have developed a secret language you’re not a part of. If Junior weren’t a toddler, you’d even suspect he’d been bribed and told to do his best to make you lose your mind. But no, it’s just reality.
The man you live with drives and picks your son up from school as if he’d done it since he was born, goes with you to meet the teacher if and when he gets into trouble and helps the two of you pick out the right shoes—shoes that you can now afford, thanks to him.
“I thought I might sleep in the master bedroom tonight.” He says, leaning against the frame in the doorway.
You’d been living there a month now. He’d been generous enough to sleep in the guest room up until now.
You don’t know how to deny him. It feels as if anything you might say would just be ignored or threatened until you eventually took it back. You didn’t want him in your bed—you didn’t want him in the same house—in fact, preferably, you’d want him to be six feet deep in the dirt.
You end up not answering. But he’s used to that by now. 
“I get it…” he says, taking steps into the room you’d wrongfully thought was your safe space. “You don’t trust me.” He sits down at the edge of the bed and reaches out across the sheets. You’re too late to pull your feet to yourself before he has one in his hand. He doesn’t do much but stroke it. “But you can.”
The sincerity in his eyes makes you want to gouge them out. It’s all been some cruel joke ever since you moved in—all the pleasantries and presents, as if trying to distract you from the past. Your wardrobe is chockfull of it, and so is Junior’s room—filled to the brim with lies.
“I’m never gon’ hurt you.” Another lie. “I did you wrong once, and I’ll spend the rest of my life makin’ up for it.” 
You want to shake your head, laugh in his face—anything to reject it. But you’re terrified of what he might do if you didn’t play along. The threat of losing Junior is enough to make you cooperative.
“I know I’ve not been fair—pushin’ you into all of this so fast.” He gets down on his knees on the floor as if praying, right down beside you. “I took advantage of a vulnerable situation ‘cause I’m an impatient asshole—but I promise you—” He takes your hand in both of his. “If you give me the chance, I’m gon’ make our lives together like somethin’ outa’ a fuckin’ fairytale—all that happily ever after shit and more, just like you always wanted.”
The kiss he presses upon your knuckles beckons goosebumps to rise all across you. All his words feel like a bad script read by an even worse actor—in fact, this whole thing feels like a prank. And still, it doesn’t surprise you—he’s been laughing at you ever since you were children.
And now, laughing still, only with a fucking ringbox in his hand.
“I want Junior to see us as a united front. I don’t want him askin’ question why we ain’t sleepin’ in the same bed, why we fight behind locked doors, why you cry in the bathroom.” 
He pops the black velvet lid and reveals something so outrages it almost looks tacky lying there in a plush bed of red silk.
“I want us to be happy.” He picks the little thing out and holds it up between his thumb and index, still holding your hand in the other. “I want us to be real.” You can almost see your life flash before your eyes as it threatens your ring finger. “Let’s make us real.”
You don’t say anything as he eases the tiny hoop on, sliding it all the way back until it sits snugly right at your knuckle—dazzling in the dark. A tiny tear slips down your cheek—equally dazzling.
He played some with the digit—a smile on his face. 
“Looks good on you, Mrs.” As he calls you by his last name you almost shake the ring off as if it burned to wear, but it all gets lost when he rushes forward and locks his lips with yours.
You yelp against his mouth, kept from turning away by the large hand holding your jaw, threatening to seize your throat and squeeze. You remember how it had felt. You don’t want more of a reminder, so you intercept his tongue with yours before he forced it down your throat.
He groans at the warm welcome, and your entire body shudders in memory.
You hadn’t let anyone touch you since that time five years ago. It had left a poor taste in your mouth, and the hunger for it had never come back.
You choke it down now as he climbs on top. 
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♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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reasonsforhope · 6 months ago
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Federal regulators on Tuesday [April 23, 2024] enacted a nationwide ban on new noncompete agreements, which keep millions of Americans — from minimum-wage earners to CEOs — from switching jobs within their industries.
The Federal Trade Commission on Tuesday afternoon voted 3-to-2 to approve the new rule, which will ban noncompetes for all workers when the regulations take effect in 120 days [So, the ban starts in early September, 2024!]. For senior executives, existing noncompetes can remain in force. For all other employees, existing noncompetes are not enforceable.
[That's right: if you're currently under a noncompete agreement, it's completely invalid as of September 2024! You're free!!]
The antitrust and consumer protection agency heard from thousands of people who said they had been harmed by noncompetes, illustrating how the agreements are "robbing people of their economic liberty," FTC Chair Lina Khan said. 
The FTC commissioners voted along party lines, with its two Republicans arguing the agency lacked the jurisdiction to enact the rule and that such moves should be made in Congress...
Why it matters
The new rule could impact tens of millions of workers, said Heidi Shierholz, a labor economist and president of the Economic Policy Institute, a left-leaning think tank. 
"For nonunion workers, the only leverage they have is their ability to quit their job," Shierholz told CBS MoneyWatch. "Noncompetes don't just stop you from taking a job — they stop you from starting your own business."
Since proposing the new rule, the FTC has received more than 26,000 public comments on the regulations. The final rule adopted "would generally prevent most employers from using noncompete clauses," the FTC said in a statement.
The agency's action comes more than two years after President Biden directed the agency to "curtail the unfair use" of noncompetes, under which employees effectively sign away future work opportunities in their industry as a condition of keeping their current job. The president's executive order urged the FTC to target such labor restrictions and others that improperly constrain employees from seeking work.
"The freedom to change jobs is core to economic liberty and to a competitive, thriving economy," Khan said in a statement making the case for axing noncompetes. "Noncompetes block workers from freely switching jobs, depriving them of higher wages and better working conditions, and depriving businesses of a talent pool that they need to build and expand."
Real-life consequences
In laying out its rationale for banishing noncompetes from the labor landscape, the FTC offered real-life examples of how the agreements can hurt workers.
In one case, a single father earned about $11 an hour as a security guard for a Florida firm, but resigned a few weeks after taking the job when his child care fell through. Months later, he took a job as a security guard at a bank, making nearly $15 an hour. But the bank terminated his employment after receiving a letter from the man's prior employer stating he had signed a two-year noncompete.
In another example, a factory manager at a textile company saw his paycheck dry up after the 2008 financial crisis. A rival textile company offered him a better job and a big raise, but his noncompete blocked him from taking it, according to the FTC. A subsequent legal battle took three years, wiping out his savings. 
-via CBS Moneywatch, April 24, 2024
--
Note:
A lot of people think that noncompete agreements are only a white-collar issue, but they absolutely affect blue-collar workers too, as you can see from the security guard anecdote.
In fact, one in six food and service workers are bound by noncompete agreements. That's right - one in six food workers can't leave Burger King to work for Wendy's [hypothetical example], in the name of "trade secrets." (x, x, x)
Noncompete agreements also restrict workers in industries from tech and video games to neighborhood yoga studios. "The White House estimates that tens of millions of workers are subject to noncompete agreements, even in states like California where they're banned." (x, x, x)
The FTC estimates that the ban will lead to "the creation of 8,500 new businesses annually, an average annual pay increase of $524 for workers, lower health care costs, and as many as 29,000 more patents each year for the next decade." (x)
Clearer explanation of noncompete agreements below the cut.
Noncompete agreements can restrict workers from leaving for a better job or starting their own business.
Noncompetes often effectively coerce workers into staying in jobs they want to leave, and even force them to leave a profession or relocate.
Noncompetes can prevent workers from accepting higher-paying jobs, and even curtail the pay of workers not subject to them directly.
Of the more than 26,000 comments received by the FTC, more than 25,000 supported banning noncompetes. 
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inkskinned · 2 years ago
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"the curtains weren't blue on purpose. why should we care?"
my love! let me ask you this - did you eat breakfast today? this tiny moment in your life. just think about it. did you?
for some of you, the answer is yes and for some of you it is technically and for some of you it is does coffee count. some of you reached for cereal or gmo-free overnight oats or frozen waffles or 3-day-old pizza. sometimes we eat the same thing, every day, for weeks. i get tired of eggs randomly, only to go back to craving them desperately. i'm cuban; i take my coffee like my father showed me, very milky and sweet.
some of us ate in a hurry. some of us hate eating breakfast but if we don't we will get nauseous later. some of us took our meds first or took our meds after. some of us have a kitchen 5 feet wide and sometimes it's the biggest room in the house. some of us are confident there will be food in the pantry and some of us flinch and say well, the paycheck is coming. some of us turn on a podcast while we eat or we scroll our phones or write in our diaries.
some of us are choosing, specifically, not to eat breakfast. some of us are too busy. some of us are pretending we "just forgot," but we are ignoring the warning signs that everything feels too-heavy. some of us are so consumed with anxiety or grief that we can't eat. some of us can't stand up long enough to make our coffee. some of us have no table to sit down and eat.
i cannot tell you what an artist "meant" by their choices. but they did have to make a choice, conscious or otherwise, to give you information. to give you a little bit more light. each of these choices are little stars of data; connecting speckles for you to weave through, drawing a line.
you cannot use a mirror in a dark room. for some of us; we will not care that the curtains are blue, because that will just be a data point and not enough light to see by. for some of us, the blue curtains will be the same as our childhood bedroom. it will make us seasick. for some of us, blue will be the color of frostbite. it might look like a pixel up close; but from a distance, oh! the picture blooms.
i cannot tell you what will stick out for you. what will carry meaning. some of you will read the sentence "i didn't have breakfast today" and say "this means nothing." some of you will read that and say "oh, me neither." some of you will say "this means the character is probably a little grouchy." some of you will say "oh, i wonder if they're okay. why didn't they eat anything?" ... art is a mirror. i am holding hands with you, over space and time, and asking you to feel something with me.
i want you to read my work and find a blue pair of curtains. i want you to read my work and find things in it that i never imagined placing. i have no way of knowing what will resonate with you, that's true. and maybe i just was hungry while i wrote this, and thinking about the eggs in my fridge. but if you found meaning, that meaning is yours. it cannot be erased just because i didn't "intend" it. you created a different world by interpreting my work. it's collaborative! that's beautiful! that's stunning!
just! imagine looking at the night sky and saying - it's stupid to have a favorite constellation or a favorite star. they're just there.
because here's the thing - across centuries and cultures, we look up. we still find meaning in the stars. these beautiful, lovely scattered accidents. are you looking? they call. and we look back and say oh! of course we are!
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rambling-at-midnight · 3 months ago
Text
Don't Go Disappearing On Me Again
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Summary: Jason's lost too much to lose you, too. (We stan healthy communication in this house)
Word count: 2.3k
Ow.
You've never worked Friday nights before at the restaurant, and you never want to again. And you'd thought Saturday mornings were bad.
But one of your favorite coworkers had called you in a panic early this morning, begging you to take her shift, because her lab group's department at GCU was going out to bowling and it would be a great networking opportunity. You were the last person she called, but everyone else before you had declined because they were either scheduled or determined to avoid the shitshow.
And because you were weak, you gave in and said you would cover her Friday night shift as long as she covered your Friday morning shift.
So you two swapped shifts, and you went into your library internship in the morning instead of the evening. It wasn't a particularly hard job, but end-of-week returns had you dashing all over the three floors, so your feet already hurt before you walked into the restaurant.
Right before coming in, you'd texted Jason that you'd gotten held up, and it was a good thing you did, because you haven't had a single break to look at your phone the whole shift. He likely wasn't even awake yet—last night's patrol had been tough on the both of you, him because he came home half beaten to death, and you because you'd had a heart attack waking up in the middle of the night to your bloody boyfriend passing out on top of you in bed. But you usually got home around six from the library, and it was looking like you wouldn't be back until ten at the earliest, so you wanted to let him know. It was going on hour seven after starting at two p.m., when the restaurant switched from its brunch to dinner menu. Personally, you think two p.m. is obscenely early to eat dinner, but apparently rich people loved eating at weird hours, because you had had nonstop tables the entire night.
But the good thing is that the restaurant closes at nine, so you’re almost there. After your last three tables eat and leave, all you have to do is clean your section, close your checks, and clock out.
In the kitchen, you lean against the fridge, rubbing your hips and knees. You’re a little too young to feel so creaky after seven hours on your feet. After all, Jason works all night, doing athletic feats you could never dream of.
You can't really complain, though. You'd gotten lucky with your tables; they'd all tipped well. Maybe you could even add a little bit to your savings account instead of shoving every paycheck right at your student loans, which just keep growing, no matter how much you pay.
“Oh, no,” says Charlotte, one of the other veteran servers at the restaurant. She’s staring at the camera feed display, which is tuned to a livestream of the restaurant’s entranceway. “Don’t you dare seat me now, Ashley, I swear to God.”
“What time is it?” your head jerks up. “We’re about to close, right? Is someone looking for a table?”
“Yeah,” she says, pointing to the screen. “The hottest man in the world just walked in our front door.”
You just hum, not bothering to look in favor of pulling out your phone. You know for a fact that the hottest man in the world is actually at home in your bed right now. “The kitchen’s stopped receiving tickets. No way Ashley seats someone right now.” The screen doesn't light up when you click the power button. Well, shit. It's dead.
“I can’t tell what he’s saying.” Charlotte squints at the screen. “He’s, like, huge. Does Ashley look a little scared to you?”
You’re out of the kitchen without even looking at the screen. You speedmarch right past your tables, ignoring one man’s halfhearted attempts to flag you down for more ketchup. A righteous fire is boiling in your gut. You’ve been here long enough that the managers won’t fire you for telling off any customers that harass the younger workers that are more scared to stand up for yourself.
Your mouth is already open, ready to spew forth the beginning of your tirade, when you recognize the man in front of Ashley at the host stand.
Dressed in gray sweats and a dark T-shirt, slouching slightly, he looks even worse than when you kissed his forehead goodbye that morning. The bruise on Jason's face has properly colored now, purple and blue along his jawline. His hair looks a little flat, like he's been wearing his helmet, which is strange.
Jason's eyes snap onto you the second you appear, and you falter at the intensity there. Something has happened, but you're not sure what.
"Hey," you say, a little hesitant. "What's up?"
Ashley exhales with relief. "So you do know him."
"Yeah," you say without breaking eye contact with Jason, who's staring at you with the same expression you think a wolf would wear when stalking a hare. "He's my boyfriend."
You expect Jason to tell you that someone was in an accident. Someone's in the hospital. Something terrible happened to your apartment while you were gone.
He says none of those things. Instead, Jason says, "I didn't know you picked up a Friday shift."
Ashley's face goes blank.
"I told you I would be home late."
“No,” he corrects. “You texted me that you were being held up.”
“Yeah, at work.”
“And then you disappeared.” Jason’s jaw clenched. “Did you know that a bank was held up this afternoon? Your bank?”
“Oh, shit,” your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “My phone died, I don’t know when. You couldn’t check my location and see I was here?”
He just shakes his head, stiff and wordless.
“Hey, Y/N.” It’s your manager approaching the host stand now, customer service smile on and eyes taking in Jason’s appearance. “What’s going on up here?”
“Hey, Steve,” you say. “Sorry, this is my boyfriend Jason—Jay, this is my manager, Steve—”
Jason gets the hint and smiles close-lipped, reaching to shake Steve’s hand.
“My phone died so he came to see if I needed a ride home.”
“As soon as your tables leave and your section’s clean, you’re good to go. Oh, and you have to roll silverware.”
“It’ll be at least another hour,” you say apologetically to Jason.
“Okay.” His eyes keep boring into you like he’s trying to send you a telepathic message. He’s mad, you get it, but it makes you a little mad, too. You’re a grown adult. Yeah, the miscommunication was your fault, and it’s fine for him to be worried, but he looks close to Red Hood levels of anger, which is totally unwarranted for this situation. “Is it cool if I wait at the bar for you, then?”
“Of course!” Steve answers for you. "Our bartender, Lacy, will be happy to serve you while you wait." He checks his watch. "Until last call, that is."
"He didn't scare you, did he?" you ask Ashley as soon as Steve leaves. You smile at Jason, trying to tease him, but his expression doesn't twitch. "He looks mean, but I promise he's a big ol' softie."
Jason just grunts, but on his way to the bar, he doesn't forget to drop a kiss to your forehead. It warms you from the inside out.
As soon as he's gone, Ashley blurts out, "What happened to his face?"
"Motorcycle accident," you fib. "Oh, my table's calling me."
You rush over to take care of the poor man's ketchup—he's been waiting almost five whole minutes—and check out another party. The back of your neck prickles as you do. Every time you glance at the bar, Jason's green eyes are locked on your every move. It flusters you so much that when your table leaves, they say thanks, and you respond with, "Good morning!"
"What?"
"Thanks, you too!"
You run back to the kitchen, and everyone immediately starts interrogating you about your 'huge hunky boyfriend' (Charlotte's words, not yours).
By some miracle, all your tables clear out by closing time, and you’re out by 9:20. There are still a couple people at the bar, but Jason’s up immediately to walk out with you, leaving his water glass on the counter.
He doesn’t say anything, though you can feel his eyes on you whenever you aren’t looking. You won’t fight in public, so you follow his lead and stay quiet.
He drove your car to pick you up, and even though he’s obviously mad, he holds the passenger door open for you before getting into the driver’s seat.
The drive home is silent. He parks in the spot for your shared apartment, then immediately, quietly, asks, “Why’d you pick up a shift without telling me?”
"It was super last-minute," you say. He's still facing forward, so you do the same, eyeing his profile out of the corner of your eyes. "Like, it happened this morning. I thought you were sleeping, so I didn't want to blow up your phone with texts. I thought you'd just check my location and see where I was when you woke up."
Jason's hand clenches on the center console. "I woke up and I was terrified."
"I'm sorry—"
"And the bank, and your wording, and your phone was off—"
"I know," you say, putting your hand over his fist. He unclenches immediately to lace his fingers with yours. "I'll make sure I tell you next time."
Jason takes a deep breath in, then lets it out. In a rush, he finally turns to face you and says, "I don't mean to be controlling."
You blink. "I don't think you're being controlling."
"You don't?" Jason frowns. "Then why were you so mad when I walked into your work?"
"Mad? I'm not mad—you're mad at me."
"I'm not mad at you, what are you talking about?"
"You've been glaring this whole time! And you didn't say a word this entire car ride."
"Because I thought you were angry. I wanted to give you space."
"Okay, wait, wait, wait." You hold up a hand. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad at me?"
"No," he says earnestly. "I was worried and scared, but you're an adult. You don't have to ask for permission if you want to pick up a shift at work." He makes a face like the thought disgusts him.
"Okay," you say. "Okay, well if you're not mad at me, I'm not mad at you, either."
"Then why did you look so pissed when I walked in?"
You press your lips together to keep from smiling. "Well, we have cameras that show us up front while we're in the kitchen, right? One of my coworkers was watching and said 'the hottest man in the world' walked in and I didn't look because I thought the hottest guy in the world was still asleep in my bed—"
Jason covers his face with his hands. You can't stop your smile now, and you pull them away so you can look at said handsome face. "And I didn't even look because I'm such a loyal, awesome partner—"
"You are pretty awesome," he agrees, trying to sound serious, but he's grinning like an idiot, too. His cheeks are flushed pink.
"I know I am. But then Charlotte said that the hostess, Ashley, looked a little intimidated by him, so I walked out to see if she needed help."
"Aw," Jason says. He lowers his chin to look at you from underneath his lashes, pretty as a picture. "Were you going to give me a stern talking-to?"
"I can still give you one," you offer.
"Maybe later."
He's still grinning, and you're still grinning, so the both of you are grinning at each other like idiots in the car.
You want to kiss him, and he's your boyfriend. You're allowed to do that whenever the two of you want, so you take Jason by the chin and pull his mouth to yours.
Jason sighs against you, and it's like all the tension in his body melts away. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw, the other on the back of your head.
You break away to murmur, "Are you patrolling tonight?" He's still so beaten up.
"No," he whispers, voice low and gravelly in a way that has butterflies whipping around like a tornado in your stomach.
"Good. Wanna go up and be the hottest patient in the world while I look at your wounds?"
"Only if you're the hottest nurse in the world."
"Oh, but then who will be the hottest chef in the world who makes dinner?"
"The hot chef is on vacation right now," Jason joked. "But I can be a really hot food-orderer. What takeout are you in the mood for?"
"You're the injured one. What do you want?"
"I want whatever you want."
You narrow your eyes in a glare. "Well, I want whatever you want."
"You gotta make a decision," he says, already on his phone. "You're the hottest decision-maker in the world, I'm the hottest food-orderer."
"Chinese?"
"You got it."
Right before he dials the number, you grab him and kiss him again. When you pull back, he chases after your lips. It's so tempting that you give him another firm peck before you pat his chest once.
Jason blinks twice, looking dazed. "What was that for?"
You shrug. "I just wanted to kiss the hottest man in the world."
"Oh, my God." He groans and covers his face again, but you can see his red ears. "You're never gonna let that go?"
"Mmm." You pretend to consider it. "No."
DC taglist:
@evalynanne @mismatchsposts
Forever taglist:
@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit  @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101
2K notes · View notes
zarameraki · 3 months ago
Text
˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶'𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗻𝘆 ˖°🕷️𖤐
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 single dad x nanny 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 shower sex 𖥔 bj 𖥔 certified pussy eater 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut
: ̗̀➛ words: 2.7k
: ̗̀➛ notes: wrote this one a while ago and decided it was time to get it out of the drafts. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.
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“After the prince and his princess defeated the scary, ancient dragon, their kingdom lived happily ever after.”
With a smile, you closed the storybook, glancing over at Megumi, peacefully asleep in his crib. Your fingers brushed against his velvety cheeks before you tucked him in snugly and quietly left his room.
The jingle of keys echoed through the air. 
Toji stepped into the apartment, his appearance dishevelled and weary of another demanding day at the construction site. He shed his hefty boots and lumbered into the living room. Catching sight of you, a faint grin settled on his lips. “He asleep?”
“The dragon story always knocks him out cold.” You took his bag and set it down by the couch as he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall onto the bar stools. “Long day?” 
“Too fucking long.” He yanked open the fridge door, retrieving a container of leftover pasta and a beer. You joined him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and cracking open the can for him. “One of the machines decided to call it quits halfway through. Spent hours waiting for the mechanics to patch it up before we could even think of wrapping up the foundation.” 
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Zenin.” Your gaze shifted to the scattered construction toys that Megumi often indulged in. “With tomorrow being the weekend, maybe you could take some time to unwind and spend quality time with Megs.”
Toji let out a derisive snort as he warmed up his food. “Always appreciate you looking out for us, sweetheart.” 
“Hey, babysitting is my job.”
He took the beer can from your hand and affectionately pinched your cheek. You grinned with your nose scrunching up. “My paycheck isn’t gonna be here until next week. Is it cool if I can pay you a little late? I’ll double it to make up for it.” 
“Nah, you’re good. I can wait. Megumi’s my favourite little client.” You tucked your hands into the pockets of your jeans as Toji grabbed his dinner and brushed past you. “Jesus, Mr. Zenin. You smell like cement.” 
“Cut me some slack, kid.” 
“I’m twenty-two. Not a kid.” 
“If you’re younger than me”—he jabbed his fork in your direction—“you’re still a kid. Capiche?” 
“Eating pasta doesn't grant you Italian citizenship,” you teased. He rolled his eyes as you snatched your backpack. “Well, I’ll see you Monday evening, then.” 
“Leaving so soon?” 
You quirked a brow and raised your phone. “It’s ten in the evening.” 
“That’s early. Come on, stay and grab a bite. Wanna share?” 
Your stomach rumbled in agreement. And hey, a little extra time with Toji wouldn’t be the worst thing. Among all the parents, he was the only one you felt at ease being around late at night. He felt more like a good friend than just another guardian.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You set down your bag and snagged an extra fork, sliding onto the stool beside him. He placed the container between you two, ensuring you got enough of your separate fill.   
“Your feeding your fucking hair, sweetheart,” he commented, collecting your hair back. His fingers brushed over the side of your neck making it hard for you to swallow. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, quickly gathering your hair into a ponytail. Toji continued to chew slowly, his gaze fixed on you. “What?” 
“You always had a mole there?” He pointed below your jaw where a prominent beauty mark tattooed your skin. 
“I’m offended that you’ve just noticed now.” 
He finished chewing. “You don’t tie your hair up often.” 
“Would you like me to?” You twirled your spaghetti around your fork.
“I like your hair down,” he admitted, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. “But maybe not while we’re eating. Don’t want them getting dirty.” 
You rolled your eyes and took a large bite, cheeks puffing out as you chewed.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Toji grumbled, swiping away the speck of tomato sauce from the corner of your mouth. His tongue darted out to clear it, followed by another swipe of his hand. The tomato sauce probably matched the colour of your skin from that gesture. “Ever thought about hiring a nanny for yourself?” 
“No, but I might have someone to take care of me in a month.” 
Toji paused and dragged his eyes towards you. “Who?” 
“Just a boy from my class,” you replied nonchalantly, poking your fork in the meatball. “He’s cute, sure. Plus, he’s a hockey player. Basically the epitome of the perfect, conventional, bring-home-to-mom-and-dad kind of guy.”
Toji took a deliberate sip of his beer. “If that’s what you’re into.”
“You say it like you’re an expert on my taste.”
“I’ve known you for a year, darling. You never struck me as someone who’d go for a poster boy.” 
“Then who do you think I’d go for?” you asked softly. Green eyes locked with yours in a tense silence. “Since you seem to have me all figured out.”
Toji stole a quick glance at your lips, then darted his eyes toward the door of his son's bedroom. He fought back the surge of temptation bubbling up inside him, tightening his grip on the beer can in his hand. “Maybe I haven’t gotten to know you well enough.” He went to take a bite but you quickly interrupted by grasping his hand and guiding his fork toward your mouth. 
With the spaghetti twirled around it, you brought it to your lips, savouring the taste as you chewed slowly, all the while locking eyes with his emerald gaze. He observed your throat as you swallowed, his attention now fully magnetised by your flushed face.
As you licked the sauce from the corners of your lips, and wrapped your mouth around your thumb to clean it, Toji’s pulse quickened. “I’m an open book for you, Mr. Zenin.” You rose from your seat, reaching for your backpack. He couldn't tear his gaze away, transfixed by the sight of your ass. “Have a wonderful time beating yourself off to my pictures tonight.” 
Toji’s gaze flickered to his undeniable bulge straining against his jeans, a curse slipping past his lips. Downing his beer as you moved away, he pushed off the stool, closing the distance with a predatory grace, catching you in the middle of tying your shoelaces.
Your eyes widened as he backed you against the door, trapping your arms above your head. His knee insinuated itself between yours, his breath hot against your lips as he snarled. 
“He’s made dinner reservations at an Italian restaurant next week,” you whispered. “Unless you don’t want me sharing pasta with him like it’s a fucking Disney movie, I suggest you kiss me now, Toji.” 
“God, that fucking mouth of yours.” A broad smile appeared at his lips as he pressed them hungrily against yours. Your body responded instinctively, grinding against his thigh in a desperate plea for more. Toji’s grip on your wrists loosened, his hand finding its way to your face, driving his tongue inside your mouth and flicking it against yours. 
He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held onto your ass. Lost in the intoxication of your overdue kiss, Toji maintained some semblance of awareness, urgently guiding himself into the bathroom, where he settled you onto the counter.
Breaking away, but still holding your jaw, he smirked. “I smelled like shit, yeah?” 
You shrugged. “Cement, but close enough.” 
“Since you know it all, you’re gonna help me clean it off.”  He stripped off his shirt before reclaiming your lips once more, your hands roaming eagerly over his chest and around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. You’d waited a whole year for this. 
Toji removed your jacket, then paused to peel off your t-shirt. He unhooked your bra with a single motion, pulling you close against him. The sensation of your nipples grazing against his chest hair made you momentarily gasp for air.
“You good?” he whispered, palming the side of your head. 
“So good.” You lunged at him again. He stumbled backward, bringing you with him until you both found yourselves inside the shower stall. His muscular arms coiled around you, pulling you closer as he ravaged your mouth.
Meanwhile, you shed your sweatpants and panties, while Toji unclasped his jeans and tossed them aside along with the rest of your clothes. He briefly opened his eyes, his mouth moving in sync with your desperate one, as he reached to twist the shower faucet open.
The first layer of cold water made you shiver and break apart. You and Toji stared at one another, your gazes lowering in tandem to study your naked bodies. He was big. So big. And extremely hard. His pink tip reached up to naval. Covered in veins that pulsed at a closer look. 
“You’re fucking gorgeous, sweetheart,” Toji said, stepping closer to you. Your back met the cold surface of the stall’s glass wall. His large hands cupped your breasts and travelled down to your hips. “You've been hiding all of this under those stupid looking sweaters?” 
“I happen to like my sweaters, thank you very much.” 
“Baby, they’re ugly.” 
You rolled your eyes and smiled. He continued to laugh at his own comment until you gripped his dick. 
He stopped immediately. 
“What’s wrong, Mr. Zenin?” Your hands moved in an elevated pattern. “Cat got your cock?” He planted his palms on either side of your head. You added twists and rolls, ones that had him at your mercy. Then you sank down onto your knees and swirled your tongue around him, sucking him off. He was breathing hard and fast, and his fingers gripped your hair. “Fuck my throat until I can’t speak for a week.” 
Toji snapped. 
He thrusted deep, deep down your throat and relished in the gagging sounds you made. “Holy fuck, baby. You’re so good at taking my cock.” Your nail sank into his hips, eyes rolling back to your skull. He forced you to open your eyes by pulling at your hair. “Fucking look at me, you little slut.” He shoved himself deeper and held your face against his pelvis. You scratched against his skin to take a breather while choking on his hot gush of release. There was nothing to swallow when he pulled your head back, releasing his dick from the confines of your mouth. 
You coughed out, drumming your fist against your chest to regain control of your lungs. A hand wrapped around your arm and stood you up. 
Toji held your jaw and inspected you closely with a twinge of concern. “Was I too hard on you, doll?” 
You nodded but raised a thumbs up. “Fantastic.” Probably the best blow-job you’ve ever given—even if Toji was mostly in control. 
His lips met yours in a soft kiss, allowing the water to wash away at your bodies. He massaged his fingers through your scalp, and, in contrast, gave your left asscheek a sharp slap. “Turn around. It’s my turn to eat.” 
Your chest pasted against the glass wall. Toji pressed himself against your back and slithered his hand down to cup your pussy. He grunted in your ear delivering a slap to it and hearing you squeak from the impact. His fingers pinched your clit and parted your folds. Easily, he fitted two fingers into your hole. “Jesus. You’re so fucking tight. No one’s been in this pussy before, baby?” 
“A few,” you said. “But they were smaller.” 
Toji curled his fingers inside of you. “A dirty whore like you needs something bigger. Don’t you, doll?” You moaned against the glass, your cheek pressed to the surface. “Tell me, baby. You need my fat cock to stretch out your tiny cunt? Need me to shape it to my cock’s size?” 
“Y-Yes—ah.” You arched your back the second his calloused thumb started circling your clit. “Fuck, Toji—oh, fuck. Faster.” He drove in a third finger and his free hand clapped over your mouth to suppress your cry. 
“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me, doll?” You nodded and he pushed you forward, kneeling down and spreading your asscheeks. “My pussy. You hear that? This is my fucking pussy.” He dragged his tongue over it and up to your little puckered hole. 
You were high on the sounds of him slurping at your release, sucking your folds into his mouth, and teasing your asshole with the tip of his tongue. This was not how you imagined your Friday night to go, but you weren’t gonna complain. You’ve been fantasising about this moment since Toji caught you putting up babysitting flyers in his neighbourhood. 
“My dick’s gonna break off if I don’t put it in now.” He wrapped your hair around his palm and positioned himself at your entrance. “Ready, doll?” 
“Fuck me, Toji. Please.” 
He could get off on your begging alone. 
His hips thrusted forward, his cock filling you to the hilt. He pulled back out and drove in—repeatedly, relentlessly. His palm came down with a bruising slap on your ass without a break. Toji wasn’t going to be satisfied until they were discoloured, until you couldn’t sit down for days. 
Seeing you wanton and moaning his name flicked a switch in his brain. He was going to brandish you in a way that you wouldn’t leave him for weeks. Months. Years. You’d be at his side until your children were arranging your joint funerals. The strange feeling inside his chest felt foreign, almost hindered the speed at which he was rutting in you. This was his first time fucking you after a year of pining and jerking himself off to your picture and he was already envisioning a romantic-movie montage. 
Toji leaned his face back so the water washed away the vision. Then he pulled out and turned you around, kissing your gasping mouth. He entered inside you again, hoisting one leg up. His fingers pinned you in place by your throat while violating your—his—pussy. 
“I’m gonna come inside you,” he breathed out over your swollen lips. 
“Do it.” 
Toji suppressed his groan by crushing his mouth against yours, a guttural growl producing from his throat. His release was everlasting, filling your inside to the brim. You came crashing down, holding the back of his hair and breaking away to breathe. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, equally panting. Those large hands settled on your throbbing ass as he completed the last bits of his ministrations. 
 You were both out of breath as you stared at one another. 
Toji blinked when you hugged him around his torso. His arms remained frozen at his side, glimpsing down at your crown. You looked up with those big, doe-eyes and a full-blown smile. Oh, he was so fucked. 
The remainder of the night was spent washing and drying each other, before tangling your naked bodies in bed. 
Toji continuously kissed your lips, his hand running up and down your back. You laid atop his chest, his cock buried within you as you gently rowed your hips back and forth. He planned to keep it nestled in you for the rest of the night. 
“Spend the weekend with me,” he murmured, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “We’ll go out for dinner at an Italian restaurant with Megumi.” 
“Yeah?” You pecked his nose. “We’ll look like a little family.” 
“That little shit already considers you his mother.” 
You chuckled and brushed the tendrils of hair away from his forehead. “Maybe another time. College’s been kicking my ass. Gotta catch up on those assignments if I wanna graduate with honours.” 
Toji found himself desolated. “Can’t you just study here?” 
“Not with two babies whining and crying for my attention.” 
He gave your ass a light smack. You feigned a wince making him caress it immediately. 
“But I can come over in the evening,” you said. “We can go out for ice-cream.”
He smiled at the fact that you were going to make time for him and his son despite your busy schedule. “Ice-cream it is.” 
You laid your head down on his shoulder and adjusted yourself comfortably on his cock. “Goodnight, Mr. Zenin.” 
“Goodnight, doll.” He rested one hand on the back of your head and the other massaging your ass, staring up at the ceiling where his vision played for the rest of night. 
Toji smiled. 
1K notes · View notes
starlightxsvt · 28 days ago
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Sibilance. | j.ww (M)
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synopsis ➳ ❝ he is always getting in trouble and it is your job to get him out each time. the problem is, the more time you spend with him, the bigger trouble it becomes for your heart. in the end, who will get you out? ❞
pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x rich badboy!wonwoo
genre ➳ smut, slight angst, good girl bad boy trope ig
word count ➳ 4.9k + 800(patreon bonus)
warnings ➳ mentions of fighting, injuries, bruises, reader wears glasses, dom!wonwoo, big dic!wonwoo, messy makeouts, degradation(he calls her a sl*t during seggs), unprotected intercourse, reader is lowkey down bad for him(aren't we all), male oral(reader's first time giving bj), slight nipple play, cream pie, rough sex, no aftercare, open ending ;D
A/N: yes this is a repost
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You step out of the police station, the click of your heels echoing against the smooth, shiny floor leading down to some stairs. With your phone pressed to your ear by your shoulder, you shove the documents into your bag and try to zip it closed, all while listening to the Chairman, your richest client over the phone.
“Yes Chairman, I will get him home right away.”
The call disconnects as you manage to zip your bag, a sigh of relief falling from your lips. You allow yourself a moment to breathe, a moment to inhale a lungful of the cold night air. After how hectic the past hour has been, the only thing you need right now is a drink and a solid eight hours of sleep.
However, you will not be getting any of that.
You find Wonwoo standing a few feet ahead of you, his back facing you as he waits there with his hands in his pockets, kicking stones on the ground and looking around with boredom.
This man is the creator of the biggest chaos. He should come with a neon sign flashing on his forehead that reads “trouble.”
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to deal with him without losing your professionalism. “Mr. Jeon, let me drop you home.”
The tall man turns around as you approach him, and a wide, mischievous smirk graces his lips, “How many times have I told you not to call me that, Princess Lawful?”
Pushing your frames up your nose bridge, you narrow your eyes at him, not appreciating his hearty attitude.
“I don’t get paid enough for your bullshit, you know.” You comment under your breath, reaching into your pants pocket to search for your car keys.
“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes. “You are like what— twenty seven? And you have a five figure income monthly.”
“Whatever,” you grunt, fishing deeper into your seemingly endless pocket before finally finding your key. Wonwoo comes closer to you and casually snakes an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body, his firm chest bumping against your arm as you stiffen up from the contact.
“Don’t worry, I will ask my father to give you a raise,” he leans down to whisper in your ear, making your breath stutter. Despite the cold weather, you can feel your face heat up, the dangerous proximity messing with your brain. It is all too much— his touch, his smell, his voice, a lethal combination that makes your knees weak.
You look at the taller man, in the back of your mind wondering how you ended up here. After graduation, you were lucky enough to get a job at one of the most reputable law firms right away.
Maybe not entirely luck, but through your hard work. You had sacrificed your youth, eyesight and skin for the job as you came out the top in your class. The plan was to work nine to five and within a year or two, end up with a fat paycheck every month. Things were going according to your plan until earlier this year when you made a huge breakthrough in a very important case that even your seniors were struggling with. That got the attention of your company president, Mr. Pi who immediately had you put in the legal team of the Jeon family as a junior advisor. He said there was an empty position and you would be the perfect fit. He promised that the workload would not be too much as you would primarily assist the senior lawyers in their tasks and the pay would be good.
It was a mistake to believe Mr. Pi.
The first time you saw Wonwoo was in the early morning on a Monday, one week after joining the Jeon family’s legal team. As you were sneaking sips of coffee from your tumbler in a meeting room full of old men discussing boring things, Chairman Jeon, Wonwoo’s father barged in followed by the trouble stirrer himself.
Wonwoo stole your breath the moment your eyes met him for the first time.
There was something magnetic about him. Other than his drop dead gorgeous looks, broad shoulders and tall build, there was something in his aura, something in the way he walked and carried himself that charged a room with tension and stole everyone’s attention. Once his eyes locked with yours, he stood in front of the door for seconds that felt too long, the look in his fox shaped eyes changing. They flickered with mischief and some amusement as he tilted his head to carefully scan you, a subtle hint of smirk growing at his lips.
For a moment you had forgotten where you were, letting yourself get carried away in his hypnotizing gaze and attractive smile, the little nicks and cuts on his face increasing his appeal by a hundred times.
He was trouble. You knew it right away. You saw it in his eyes, the mischief, the defiance, the chaos he could not wait to cause. He was your polar opposite in every sense and you knew he picked up on it right away. And you also knew you would not be able to get him off your back.
That was indeed, true.
Wonwoo’s first ever case that you handled was assigned that fateful morning. His father gathered everyone to brief about the situation that went down. Wonwoo had gotten in a fight at a bar the previous night, breaking a guy's arm and it was your job to compensate and cover the issue as smoothly as possible.
It has been quite a while since then and for whatever reason, Chairman Jeon always ordered you to handle his son’s cases. Of course, you could not say no to him so for the last ten months you have been working like a dog, cleaning up Wonwoo’s mess everytime he got in trouble, which was often.
It was during one such time, about three months ago, after you had gotten him out of the police station, that the mistake happened.
You slipped and caused trouble for yourself, committing something that altered your course of life.
You slept with Jeon Wonwoo.
Things have been messy since then. Not for him but for you. He definitely has more control over you now, crossing your professional boundaries whenever he pleases.
You are left in ruins, emotionally.
Wonwoo is an attractive, complicated man and you can’t help that you are attracted to him. There is obvious palpable tension between the two of you but ignoring that, you know very well the type of guy he is.
He is not boyfriend material. He is not good for your heart.
Yet now, as your body is pressed against his in the cold winter night, you cannot prevent your heart from dangerously thudding in your chest, a heated feeling rising in your belly.
“Take me home, Princess Lawful,” Wonwoo says, squeezing your shoulder. “I had a long day, you know?” There is an innocent whine in his tone and you can’t help but wonder at his duality.
“Fighting people?” You throw an annoyed look at him, freeing yourself from his grip and marching towards your car.
“Among other things,” he chuckles, his tone is light and playful as he jogs to catch up to you.
Thirty minutes later when you turn off your ignition in front of his house, you look beside to see him asleep in the passenger seat. No wonder it was so quiet in the car. He sits with the seat reclined, arms crossed over his chest as he faces the window in his side, the black locks of hair falling over his eyes.
In the dim light coming from a nearby street lamp, you admire the man next to you, your hands instinctively reaching to touch his face. Once again, your heartbeats quicken, a lump forming in your throat when you try to analyze this strange feeling in your chest. The tip of your index finger brushes his cheek, right below a cut and his lips form a knowing smile.
Your blood runs cold as you snatch your hand back.
This bastard was awake.
His eyes open, the piercing gaze making your breath stutter in your throat. “What dirty ideas were you having, hmm?” He smirks, leaning closer.
You immediately duck your head low, fiddling with your seatbelt in the dark to yank it open.
“I knew you were admiring me.” He easily snaps off his belt and resting his arm on the armrest between the two seats, he tilts his head lower to meet your bashful eyes. “Were you going to kiss me, Princess Lawful?”
You inhale a sharp breath before your hand moves on its own accord, ready to slap him. Wonwoo, however, catches it, his bony fingers wrapping around your wrist in a gentle yet firm grip as you lock eyes with him.
As always, he is calm and poised, a lazy smirk on his face, looking like he has the entire universe and beyond in his palm.
Wonwoo has this effect on you, this weird thing where words get stuck in your throat and your brain fumbles. Right now is one of those as your eyes remain locked with Wonwoo’s hypnotic gaze, leaving you unable to look away no matter how much you want to. Slowly, he pulls your hand towards him, his lips to be exact, as you watch with horror how his lips come in contact with your knuckles.
Suddenly, it is sweltering inside the car even though it is below zero outside. You are brought under a spell as you watch with parted lips how softly, sensually Wonwoo’s lips trace kisses over your knuckles and the top of your hand. The sensation shoots tingles throughout your entire body and at this moment, Wonwoo could ask you to bring him the moon and you would do it.
“Come inside.” His voice is feather light but you know he demands it.
Fuck, no, you cannot let this go on.
You snatch your hand back, shifting in your seat to be as far from him as possible in this confined space.
“I have an early day tomorrow,” you object, not meeting his gaze.
“Oh come on,” He almost whines. “I am injured, you know.”
You turn your head to look at him with skepticism. He watches you with a pout on his lips, his eyes shining as if he is a child waiting for candy. It is a complete whiplash from his previous attitude.
“Don’t believe me?” He sits up straight, determined to prove something as he turns on the overhead light. Then pulling up his windbreaker and his turtleneck, he shows you his lower back where, on the left side there is a big, purple mark blooming.
You gasp, immediately pulling the material of his clothes higher to get a better look. “My god, how did this happen?”
“The guy pushed me real hard. Hit my back against this table.” He explains casually, fixing his clothes. “Come on now, help me treat it.” He announces, not sparing a glance at you as he gets out of the car, his movements relaxed and confident as if he is sure you will follow him.
You do so silently, matching his pace as he approaches his house, the faint crunch of gravel beneath your feet the only sound. He climbs the small steps leading to the front door, its polished surface gleaming in the soft glow of the single overhead porch light. The neighbourhood is very posh, with picture-perfect houses standing at equal distances, their elegant designs glowing softly under the street lamps. The chill in the air adds a crispness to the atmosphere, as the two of your footsteps break the silence where no one is stirring.
Wonwoo’s fingerprint unlocks the door with a beep and he immediately steps inside. The door remains open as you linger in the cold night air outside, hesitant.
“What’s wrong? Do you really enjoy standing out in the cold?” The man cranes his neck to look at you.
With a soft sigh, you step in.
The minute the door shuts closed behind you, Wonwoo’s mouth latches onto yours. He attacks you almost, passion overflowing from him as he presses you against the door in a frenzy.
You knew this would happen. Yet you came in.
There is no one at fault but you.
He shoves his tongue inside you, tasting your mouth like a starved man while his hands do a quick work to shake off your coat from your shoulders. The warmth from his body blankets you in an addictive sense of comfort, his hands moving to hold both of your wrists in a bruising hold against the door.
There is no escape.
Your body submits, relaxing against his as you let yourself feel every bit of the sensations. When Wonwoo pulls away, the space between the two of you charges with tension, the heat increasing with the way his dark eyes bore into yours.
“I have been wanting to do that for a while now.” He breathes, his voice gruff. He lets go of your hands and skims his fingers on your back, pulling down the zipper of your blouse.
Your lips are swollen, his bruising kiss lingering on your lips as you unconsciously lick them, trapped in the dark pools of his eyes.
You are so ruined.
Wonwoo takes a few steps back, his fingers working deftly to remove his windbreaker and his turtleneck. You see him wince due to the bruise when he moves his body and you stop him with a gentle hand on his arm.
“Maybe we should get a look at that first.”
Wonwoo scoffs and you know he will not listen to you. You are about to force him when he takes off his trousers that leaves him in his boxers only and all thoughts fly out of your mind when you see the bulge forming in them.
Wonwoo sports that cocky, insufferable look on his face. “Stop drooling, Princess Lawful.”
You frown, ready to refute when he utters the next words that stun you into silence.
“On your knees.” The playful expression is gone from his face as he looks at you dead in the eyes, palming himself through his underwear.
You are a frozen statue, waiting for him to repeat himself because there is no way he just said that.
“Don’t keep me waiting,” he grunts, yanking you closer to him by your arm. He looks down on you as you feel his breaths on your skin when he whispers. “Get on your knees. And take your top off. I want you to suck my cock. I want to see that nerdy face choking, messy with tears.”
Your throat is a dessert. Your eyes are wide with horror, your hands clenched into tight fists as you try to wrap your head around his dirty words. Wonwoo easily pushes you on your knees, your mind still trying to catch up with what is happening. He, in fact, removes your blouse for you, leaving you in your nude coloured bra as goosebumps break into your skin. His intimidating bulge stands in front of your face and you sense a rush of panic within you.
There is no way you can do this.
Fuck, this is your first time giving a blowjob to someone.
But you cannot let him know that. You would rather plunge yourself in the cold sea and get eaten by sharks. So, with the same determination that helped you finish law school with straight A’s, you set out to prove yourself. With trembling hands, you pull down his boxers and the image of his long, thick length is daunting, immediately making your throat hurt.
Wonwoo's hands snake around your neck, his fingers caressing the base of your low pony as he pushes your mouth closer to his dick.
Shy and unsure, you hold him using both hands, the hard, warm member a foreign sensation beneath your fingertips. Your tongue darts out, giving his tip a kittenish link.
“Stop playing,” Wonwoo warns. “You know how to suck cock, right? Or do I need to teach you that?”
Offended, you push your glasses up and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking on his precum. The breathy sigh that parts from Wonwoo’s lips indicates that you are on the right path. You continue sucking, covering more of his length, adding an inch bit by bit to get used to the feeling of him in your mouth.
Wonwoo, however, does not have the patience and he extends an arm to the wall to support himself while using the other to hold your neck as an anchor as he starts to thrust in and out your mouth in shallow movements.
“Fuck, you look so hot like this,” he pants, his eyes trained on your face, your swollen, spit coated lips wrapped around his length as you look up at him with doe eyes behind your steel frames. “This is my new favourite scene, Princess, you dressed for work and on your knees for me.” He grunts, increasing his pace, his thick length going deeper and making you choke.
The entire scene is so erotic, his filthy words paired with gurgling noises coming deep from your throat and tears that blur your vision. Between your legs, your pussy throbs with pain as an urge to touch yourself grows. You can not do that due to the layers of clothes still covering your lower half so you press your thighs together, focusing on getting him off.
You hollow your throat to the best of your capability and his length goes in deeper than before, prompting you to choke and pull back your mouth from him, bursts of cough coming from your lips.
In front of you, Wonwoo stands, panting harshly as he rubs his slick length, his dark eyes watching you wipe your tears and spit while trying to stop the coughs. “You look so hot right now.” He breathes, the dark depravity in his voice making you look at him.
“I want to come on your face so bad but more than that, I need to get my cock inside you. Fuck you so good you will feel me tomorrow morning when you are at your meeting.”
You can only blink as your pussy throbs at his promise. By now, you are sure that your underwear is a soaking mess.
“Stand up, Princess Lawful.” He orders with a smirk on his face. You immediately comply, standing on shaky legs. Wonwoo wastes no time to press your back flat against a nearby wall, his fingers rapidly working on taking off your belt. He unzips your dress pants and pulls them down halfway along with your underwear in record time. His eyes remain focused on your core and you shy away from his gaze, covering yourself with your hands. He immediately pushes them away and easily slips a finger inside your wet core.
“Oh god,” you moan, your eyes falling closed. Wonwoo scoffs, a cruel smile of lust kissing his lips as he whispers in your ear, “Fuck, look at you. You are dripping. Did sucking my cock turn on so much?”
You nod, an arm coming up to hold his shoulder, the firm muscles feeling so good under your touch.
“Say it,” he commands, using his free hand to grip your face in a firm hold, squishing your cheeks.
“Y-yes.” You whisper, chasing his fingers with your hips. You need him inside you so bad you are going insane.
“Good little slut.” He grins before lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting his entire length in one swift motion.
“Fuck!” The first thing you feel is pain, the entirety of his thick length shoving inside you so hard you swear you feel him in your belly.
Deep in the back of your mind, there is the sensible part of you who shakes her head at your desperation and carelessness. Even though you have an IUD, you still should have used a condom.
That is the issue, all common sense and logic fly out the window when you are near this man. That is why he is so bad for you, for your heart.
Wonwoo suddenly presses his lips to yours, breaking your train of thought. His tongue moves inside your mouth in tandem with his thrusts as your entire body jolts at the force. His fingers hold your ass and the back of your thighs in a bruising grip as he drives inside you mercilessly, each thrust harder than the last one.
You are going to come right away.
Wonwoo however decides to stop. His grip on you loosens as a harsh pant comes out of his mouth, his eyes scorching with animalistic lust.
Then, before you can question or protest, he roughly tugs on your arm, pulling you with him as you two cross the short distance to his bedroom. Standing in front of the bed, he unceremoniously pushes you on the soft mattress, murmuring. “Lie down.”
You do as told, shuffling back into the bed with confusion as Wonwoo fully takes off your trousers and your underwear.
“I can fuck you better like this, on the bed.” He grins as an explanation, making heat rush to your face. Not wasting time, he slides back inside you, a low groan of pleasure falling from his lips at your warmth. The sound makes your pussy clench around his length as a soft mewl falls from your lips when he hits that sensitive spot within you.
“Fuck, keep making sounds like that and I will come right now.”
You once again clench at the idea and a smirk graces Wonwoo’s lips. “You want that, no?” He increases his pace, his right hand tightly holding your waist while his left hand slips down a strap of bra from one of your shoulders, exposing your breast. He squeezes your breasts, pinching and tugging at your nipples which heightens your pleasure. You throw your head back, your fingers gripping onto his arms as you whine, “P-please, I want to come.”
“Such a good slut, begging so nicely.” He huffs, using both hands to grip your waist, his cock driving deeper inside you than ever before due to the angle. Your legs shake and your toes curl as you taste your orgasm coming. 
Wonwoo leans on top of you, covering your body with his as he licks his way from your collarbone and below, all the while moving in and out of you. His lips wrap around your nipple as he sucks and bites and finally the coil in your belly snaps.
Your body spasms, a loud cry of pleasure falling from your lips as you are thrown over the edge and taken away by your release. Wonwoo spurts inside you at the same time, his low groans of pleasure and strings of curses sounding like honey to your ears.
For some time, you find yourself lost in your head, your senses fading into the background. Time slips away as you enter a trance-like state, the aftershocks of pleasure radiating through your body and paired with the day’s exhaustion, you feel like you are floating away on a cloud of bliss and ecstasy.
After a long while, when you are fully back in your senses, you see Wonwoo lying beside you, his eyes closed. Judging from the way he is breathing, he seems asleep. 
The clock on the wall reads 10 pm.
A soft sigh escapes your lips as you sit up on the bed, your joints feeling sore.
You can not shake the overwhelming pity you feel for yourself.
This is what happens when you cross the lines with a guy like Wonwoo.
Alone and exhausted, an emotional mess as you drown in self pity while the guy that has ruined you physically and emotionally sleeps away peacefully. 
Even asleep, he radiates an exquisite beauty, bathed in the soft, golden glow of the lights that fill the room. As you gaze at him, you find yourself wondering what it might be like if this were love rather than lust—if you could stir his heart to race and flutter as yours does for him.
How silly. How pathetic.
With weary steps, you move through his house, first going to the bathroom to clean yourself before gathering your scattered clothes and putting them on. You are about to leave when you suddenly remember the bruise on his back.
With a sigh, you take an ice pack from the refrigerator and wrap it in a towel. Then you pull out the first aid kit from the bathroom cabinet, slightly annoyed to find it untouched and brand new, just like you left it a few months ago. He has yet to use it no matter how many times you requested him to. 
Shaking your head, you place the kit on the bedside table, taking out some compression bandage and a painkiller and placing them outside and within his view. Then, finding a sticky pad, you scribble some notes and stick them on the bottle of the pills, hoping he sees it and follows your instructions.
When you are done setting everything, the man is still fast asleep, his face squished against the mattress as he lies on his front. Gently, you tiptoe near him and peek at the bruise on his back.
He will be in pain later for sure.
Tentatively, you place the ice pack on his back before quickly stepping out of his bedroom. The towel will diffuse the chill so he will not wake up immediately, giving you enough time to leave. 
As you drive your car through the quiet neighbourhood, you make a promise to yourself.
This was the last time you crossed boundaries with him. 
You loathe this emptiness in your soul as you drive away from him late at night, feeling discarded after a quick fuck when all your heart desires is to lay in the warmth of his arms.
That is not your reality and you accepted it. 
From tomorrow, there will be no you and Wonwoo beyond the professional responsibilities that tie you together.
NEXT MORNING, 10 AM
As soon as the meeting is over you head for your office and sink down on your chair, sagging into the leather with a deep sigh of relief. The delicious aroma of the coffee heals you as you take a sip, a soft groan falling from your lips.
Today is going to be a long day. You definitely should have prepared better for such a day because being sleep deprived along with a throbbing ache between your legs is definitely not the way to go about it. 
You realize Wonwoo did keep his promise as you can still feel him between your legs, the memories and sensations of last night still too vivid. 
Shaking your head at the unwelcome thoughts, you begin pulling out all the necessary files from your bag and spreading them on your desk when there is a knock at the door.
You look up and before you can tell the person to come in, the door opens.
Wonwoo steps in, making your heart shudder as if the mere thought of him has summoned his physical presence.
He looks dashing as ever, sporting his signature cocky smile as he closes the door behind him. “Good morning, Princess Lawful.” He chirps.
Frowning, you push up your glasses, not finding his presence amusing. You remember the events of last night and the promise you made to yourself. Now is the perfect time to honour it. 
“What are you doing here?” You question, standing up from your seat.
He pouts, approaching you. “Am I so unwelcome? Had some business nearby. Thought I would drop by your office.”
“Do you have anything to consult with me?”
“Yes,” he hums, his gaze sultry. He comes closer to you and easily wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against his body, his eyes fixed on your lips. Once again, you are overpowered by his touch, smell and everything he makes you feel.
This must stop.
Mustering all your strength, you push him away with a firm hand on his chest. The man stumbles back, looking at you with confusion. With a deep, calming breath, you take a step back and focus your gaze on him, your sharp eyes piercing through his.
“This is over.”
“What?”
“Whatever we were doing…messing around, it is over. I am done.”
“What?” His mouth is agape. He looks absolutely stunned as if your words make no sense to him.
“Mister Jeon Wonwoo, I do not owe you any explanation.” Your tone is sharp, matching your gaze. He frowns, his eyes going dark as he mirrors your gaze. “From now on, I will not be seeing you outside of work, is that clear?”
You see his jaw clench. He inhales a sharp breath, the soft sound cutting through the air fizzling with tension.
“Fine,” he spits with eyes filled with an accusatory intensity so heavy that you feel a physical weight. “Whatever you say. Let's not see each other again.”
You nod, stiff.
You know very well it is a lie. These words are a mere facade of an agreement, bound to be broken. You will see him again for you are two magnets with fierce, crackling attraction. 
Nothing can keep you apart. 
The air thickens with heavy tension, your sharp gazes locked with each other, cutting through the air and charging the atoms with an unending flare. If someone listened closely, they might even hear the hisses of sparks forming and spreading all over.
Sibilance, they call it.
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want more of them? head over to my patreon and subscribe here to read their first meeting from wonwoo's pov!
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A/N: before y'all think this is the end let me share my plan. so I will be turning this into a series which I will upload from time to time. they will be short episodes, kind of like a slice of life story which will mainly focus on the relationship of these two and their growth. so buckle up, because their journey is just beginning! as always, if you enjoyed reading this, please reblog and share your thoughts. i would love to hear what you guys have to say and what expectations you have from this couple!
on a side note, can we just talk about the overwhelming response of the teaser? like 1k notes in such a short time and also for just a teaser? y'all really love bad boy wonwoo huh. i was pleasantly surprised by the numbers it was doing, even better than a few of my full length fics. not complaining tho! ><
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satoruxx · 9 days ago
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THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.
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✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x f!reader | 4.5k words
✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, societal inequality, dysfunctional families, were getting into the pining everyone, fluff, toji letting his guard down, blood as a metaphor for love ??
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: sorry for taking a month to get this part out guys!! unfortunately the semester's started and i'm also spending every free minute i have studying for the mcat rip :(( but know that wolf toji never leaves my mind hehe :33 as usual i would recommend reading the previous parts before this one !!
prev. | series masterlist.
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you are slowly getting used to coming home and not seeing toji there.
not that he is overly loud or anything. but after seeing someone lounging on your couch or staring at the tv or awkwardly peeking through your fridge every single day, the lack of that presence seems much more impactful.
it leaves a strangely empty feeling in your gut, but you shake it off because you know he will be back soon.
besides, he had been the one to insist on getting a job.
("you really don't have to—"
"i wanna." he scratches the back of his neck, an awkward grimace on his face as he speaks. "i uh… take up a lotta your space. so just let me, alright?")
far be it from you to deny a literal predator. so yes, the two of you had fallen into a sort of rhythm. while you were at school or your job, toji would go out and work—you're not really sure what it is he does, and you're a little too awkward to ask. he had hinted at picking up small odd jobs here and there, like helping move construction materials or furniture, which was easy thanks to his brute strength.
it also was easier for him to lay low with jobs that didn't involve high profile people.
you never tried to find out more, because oddly enough, you trusted the hulking wolf of a man.
and it was…oddly endearing how'd he'd come back with his paycheck and drop it in your palm, voice a low grunt as he mutters a quick, "here y'go."
in fact, over the few months that toji has been with you, you've started easily picking up many oddly endearing things about him.
like how he sits upright and scowls when the doorbell rings, ears pointed and hackles rising. how he does not eat if you're not eating—even if you give him a plate he will sit in front of it and stare you down, urging you to drop what you're doing to come and sit with him. how he prefers taking a seat near your legs when you're watching tv, back pressing against the bottom of the couch.
(you try mentioning any of these to him and he gives you the most affronted scowl.)
but yes it's all very endearing. even now when you're sitting on your couch and thinking about it, there is a silly smile on your face—when you notice it, you have to slap yourself quickly.
the cool chill of your wet hair leaves a trail of goosebumps over your arms, even though your body is warm from your shower. maybe it's strange to be overanalyzing the all cute little things the wolf hybrid you let in your home does on a daily basis. and perhaps you should be wondering why your brain seems to find him whenever it doesn't have anything else to think about, but you're a little scared of what that might reveal about you.
your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door unlocking, and you look up subconsciously.
your eyes catch toji's figure leaving the bathroom, and for a split second your throat goes dry. he emerges from a cloud of steam, drops of water cascading over the planes of his chest and torso. a towel hangs lows on his hipbones, hair heavy with wetness as he frustratingly shakes the strands away from his eyes. you are unable to look away from the muscles of his back, damp skin reflecting the light in the hallway.
it's just a few seconds—just as he makes his way from the bathroom into his own bedroom, but it's enough to have you sitting there with your lips parted.
you spend the next couple seconds shaking your head as you try to push down the heat crawling up your neck.
the wolf joins you a few minutes later, a loud yawn tearing through his throat. his hair is messy, damp from the shower and sticking up in odd directions.
(you cannot look away from him.)
"hey," he nods at you, claws absentmindedly scratching under his shirt.
(a glimpse of chiseled abs and scarred muscle.)
"hey," you answer back, still feeling warm. you clear your throat, brushing it aside. "ready to eat?"
a wordless nod. you stand up and head to the kitchen, exhaling deeply. you're not sure what that was, but you'll be sure to brush it under the rug.
in a few minutes the two of you are sitting across each other, as usual. toji ravenously digs into his food, tongue running over his lips subconsciously.
you watch, strangely satisfied. his jade green eyes briefly flick up to meet yours. when they find their mark, they turn away, but his shoulders seem to relax.
you shove your fork in your mouth, a little breathless. "h-how was your day?"
he swallows, heavy gaze finding yours again. "not bad. work was work."
you grin. "wow what a riveting revelation. how much do i need to donate for an elaboration, mister wolf?"
toji makes a show of rolling his eyes, chewing slowly. "you're so dramatic."
"i'm entertaining," you clarify, a smug smile tugging at your lips.
"whatever helps you sleep at night, kid." he huffs out what sounds like a dry chuckle, but you take it like it's a medal. he indulges your question though. "i helped on a construction site. it wasn't that hard."
another satisfied bite. "humans are always so creative when they try to get out of doing work."
your brow quirks. "what do you mean?"
he waves his paw haphazardly, looking exasperated. "y'know? with all their machines and shit."
you snort quietly. "yeah some of us can't lift ten thousand pounds like you."
he throws you an unamused glance, but continues eating. there's a pause, but then he asks. "how about you?"
you smother a grin behind your fork—how considerate of him. "it was fine. pretty boring day."
suddenly you perk up, a thought hitting you, and toji unconsciously leans closer.
"oh wait! i had to train someone today. it was so awkward!" you wave your fork around as you articulate your words. "he was really quiet and barely asked questions so i felt like i was yapping for hours to fill the silence. but he seemed nice enough so it's fine i guess."
(so that's the new trace of a scent that toji picked up on as soon as you walked in. it clung to you, overly sweet and sticky—molasses. worming its way around your body, almost parasitic. and you had no idea.
but he did. he knows the undertones in that foreign scent, can pick up the giddy nerves and faint arousal and sheer excitement. it disgusts him, irritates him beyond belief.
if it were up to him he'd dig his claws into that gross scent.
maybe if he were to tighten his grip, sink his teeth into your flesh—a sadistic little brand of his own—he could scrape that parasite off of you. replace it with a parasite of his own.)
"you do talk a lot," he replies. the offended look on your face is exactly the reaction he was waiting for, and he pushes down a smirk.
"well i have to make up for it since you're so boring!"
the two of you bicker over dinner, and toji does not know why it pleases him so much. the dips in your brows, the slant of your lips, the strained laughter behind your arguments—every microexpression threatens to worm its way into the inner crevices of his brain and settle there.
(parasitic beyond belief.)
these expressions stay in his mind even as he finds himself in his bed a few hours later. his jade eyes feel strained as they bore holes in the ceiling, the shadows creating monsters against the walls. he tries thinking of something else, but you remain, stubborn in a way that he does not know how to fight.
he briefly wonders whether this is normal—if other people also think of you after they spend time with you.
(but then he realizes that would mean that others are privy to seeing you the way he does, and suddenly the taste in his mouth is bitter.)
toji is grateful though. for the past few months, there would be nights where his dreams weren't so pleasant. where he would find himself back in a cold cell, with the sound of boots and growls and cheers echoing in his ears. or he'd be back in that family home, kept to the side, away from the rest because of his cursed blood and so called poisonous mother. where he would stand in front of a mirror and curse the features that made him so misfortunate.
so yeah, if it were up to him, he'd much rather see your pretty face behind his eyelids.
but even then it seems as though sleep will be eluding him tonight. his body feels restless, thrumming with energy and mild irritation. his skin feels numb and prickly, somehow simultaneously hot and cold.
toji rubs a weary paw across his face, grumbling. he doubts he's getting anymore sleep tonight—it's not like he isn't used to it. he throws the covers off, before standing up and stretching until he's heard a few satisfying pops. maybe he'll go watch something on your tv at the lowest possible volume, or he'll sit by the living room window until he dozes off on his own. whatever—he's just so damn tired.
his door creaks as he pushes it open, and he internally prays that you remain asleep. but from what he knows, while you are a relatively light sleeper, these sounds don't usually bother you. he pauses just as he walks past your room, sneaking a glance at the shut door.
he thinks he can picture you clearly behind the door, wrapped up in your sheets and pressed against your pillows without a care in the world. he wonders whether you're dreaming tonight, and if you are he wants to know what you see.
(wondering whether you see his face in the same way he sees yours.)
he does not know what compels him, but toji finds himself taking a seat on the ground, back pressing against your door. he can faintly hear the sound of your heartbeat, slow and even as you sleep. your breaths are low, steady—like the sound of waves gently rushing over warm sand.
it's rhythmic, tantalizing, so so soothing.
he can feel his eyes growing heavy, can feel the tension leaving his shoulders. he thinks he can feel the warmth of your body through the door.
toji is lucky that his ears are sensitive. because in the morning, when you quietly get out of bed, he will awake to the sound, and then he will hurry back into his room like nothing happened. he will make this a habit, seeking you out in the middle of the night when sleep is his worst enemy. and he will sit there, using the thumping of your heartbeats his own personal metronome—a lullaby.
but it will be his little secret.
he has always been so stubborn.
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the bite of the stinging wind makes toji's hair stand on end, but he does not hate it. he'd much rather welcome the overcast skies than bake under a glaring sun. the sound of hammering and drilling and machines makes toji's ears twitch even under the stupid hardhat his boss insisted he wear.
whatever. just a few more hours and then he can go home.
he briefly thinks of you. wonders whether you'll be home before he is or whether he'll be the one waiting for you tonight.
he hears footsteps approaching, but barely flinches as his boss claps him on the shoulder. the stocky, genial old man is way too cheerful for a job so dull, but toji has gotten used to it by now. besides the guy practically adores the big strong hybrid who moves materials for him like it's the easiest thing in the world. and he never stops talking about it.
"what would we do without you, toji?"
toji snorts indifferently. "crash and burn?"
a bark of laughter cuts through the air and the wolf raises a brow.
"you're right about that." the old man grins, looking up at the hulking wolf with a mix of awe and gratitude. "some of these kids are too lazy."
he turns to bark a couple of orders to some of the younger workers, and toji bites back a wry grin, shaking his head. "what d'ya need me to do after moving these?"
his boss looks at the steel beams toji is currently stacking, before glancing down at his clipboard. "honestly, just need the bricks moved and you should be good to leave."
toji unconsciously perks up at that. suddenly he feels a lot more energized—starts working a little quicker.
his boss is quiet for a second, before he asks a question. "you got someone back home?"
toji throws him a disinterested glance, before resuming his work. "why?"
"well my daughter's got a friend. hybrid too, you know?" toji is barely listening, instead securing the ties around a couple of steel beams by his feet. his boss continues genially. "deer. she's real sweet."
"you know wolves eat deer, right?" toji's expression is so blank it makes his boss flinch. an awkward chuckle escapes the old man's lips, and he raises his hands in defeat.
"okay, i get it. you're not interested."
toji shakes his head mutely, turning his focus back to his work.
"but don't you wanna settle down? you're at that age right?" his boss ponders, glancing down at the clipboard in his hands. "don't most hybrids find a mate by this age?"
the word sets a shot of heat through his gut. he does not like addressing those things, base instincts that make him different from everyone else, which is why he has so adamantly pushed aside that part of his nature. because he hates the idea of tying someone to him, trapped with him forever. because he knows that once he has his teeth in them he will not let them go. because he has always been nothing more than a selfish animal.
he hates the idea with a burning passion.
(his blood is hot, fire in his veins. he wonders if you would let him do that to you, sink his fangs into your throat and let him eat you up. feel your flesh and blood under his ever so grateful claws—worshipping, all consuming.
somehow the idea becomes less revolting.
he wonders what you think about the whole thing. tying yourself to someone forever. would you be open to an animal? he hopes you wouldn't be. he knows there are similar traditions for your kind. something involving a ring on a finger and a big celebration to follow. but even that seems mediocre to him. does not hold the same meaning as making you his and devoting himself to you.
humans are so blasé.)
"like i said, not interested." toji's air of indifference makes the man's shoulders slump, but he brushes it off with a good natured chuckle.
"well okay. let me know if you change your mind. my daughter has a lot of friends."
a noncommittal grunt escapes the wolf and he speaks up before he can stop himself. "forget it. i got someone already."
his boss gasps, strangely giddy. "well you ass! why didn't you lead with that?"
(because he didn't mean to say it.)
toji shrugs carelessly, turning away. he doesn't want to talk about it—mostly because it's a lie. but also because he knows that if he thinks too deeply about it, he'll start wondering why it was so easy to offer you up like that. and why it disappoints him that it is really nothing more than a lie.
"it's not a big deal."
"i'm sure other people would disagree," the older man laughs. "what's she like?"
(another burst of fire—quiet, clinging, possessive. he would stand in front of you and take the intrusive stares into his own shoulder blades before he let them even look at you.)
"she's fine." the short answer is all toji wants to share.
"just fine?"
(perfect, he wants to say. but nobody needs to know that but him.)
"anyone ever told you you're nosy?"
his boss blinks, before letting out another boisterous burst of laughter. a clap to the back follows, and toji sighs in exasperation.
"fine fine. i'll stop. you're such a secretive asshole."
toji finishes securing the ties before easily hefting the steel beams onto his shoulder. he ignores the starry eyed gazes of some of the younger workers around him. his boss, despite seeing toji's brute strength before, still looks just as starstruck.
"where'd you come from anyway?" the older man finally blurts out. toji's shoulders tense, eyes narrowing as he pins an intrusive stare to the human. his boss backtracks.
"n-not that it matters!" he stumbles, and toji is suddenly reminded of how human the man is compared to him. "you know i don't care where you're from as long as you can work."
"i can work." the wolf's response is dry. he doesn't like the idea of sharing anything about himself to humans.
(besides you of course.)
"right. we've gotten a lot done since you've joined." the boss once again claps him on the back heartily, and toji has to push down the feelings of irritation at the casual touch.
(all he really cares about is finishing his work. the faster he gets done, the faster he can go home and see you.)
a few hours later, toji's pushing the apartment door open. his muscles are a little sore, but it's peace compared to the aftermath of his old battles underground. the extra key in his hand feels heavy, weighted with some importance that he is unused to. he decides he does not hate it as he drops it in the little bowl you have next to the door—right next to your own keychain.
"i'm back." his voice is low, just because he's still getting used to announcing his return. still getting used to the idea that someone is there waiting for him.
he sees your head pop up from over the back of the couch, and he is briefly reminded of a bunny. the thought almost makes him smile.
"welcome home!" you grin, propping yourself on your knees and peering at him. "how was your day?"
"meh," he grunts, shrugging his jacket off. you roll your eyes good naturedly, almost like you expected this response.
"you're so articulate," you drawl sarcastically, and he huffs. without thinking, he reaches over to give your forehead a gentle push.
"shut up."
you grumble at the shove, pushing his arm away before standing up and heading towards the kitchen. "ready for dinner?"
he glances at the clock, lips slanting unhappily. "you didn't have to wait to eat, kid."
"yeah but i wanted to." a cheeky smile stretches across your face, and he has the strongest urge to reach out and tug on your cheek until you're swatting at him in between laughs.
but all he can do is sigh. "stupid…"
the way you turn to stick your tongue out at him almost makes him chuckle.
in a few minutes you're both in your respective spots, digging into your food just as you do every night. dinner is quiet, but not uncomfortable. somehow toji feels relaxed even in your silence.
(he wonders why that is.)
eventually the wolf feels a pleasant chill run up his spine, so he unconsciously lifts his head. your eyes are pinning him to his seat, not sharp but ever so curious. he thinks he has finally learned how to read you.
(pick you apart and examine your pieces before putting you back together with reverent fingers.)
he is about to ask you to spill it, but you beat him to it.
"hey toji?" your voice is quiet, timid. his gaze travels over you, sharp eyes assessing the sudden nervousness in your posture.
"what?"
"can i ask you something?"
he hesitates, chewing his food, before nodding once.
"how did you end up underground anyway?"
he stiffens. a rush of anger floods through his body. the familiar feeling of hatred as he thinks of the cursed last name he once had and who that name belongs to.
he steels himself, trying to keep those emotions suppressed. the last thing he wants to do is get angry in front of you. so he just swallows, and looks down at his plate. "my family sold me there."
he hears your sharp inhale, can practically smell the spike of indignant anger, before the sadness follows.
"your own family?"
he shrugs haphazardly, like it doesn't matter—it does. "yep."
you watch him continue eating with an evidently sympathetic look in your eyes. he still does not know how to react to that expression, but he knows that it makes his stomach churn with a strange mix of sensations.
"why?" you press, leaning forward. in between the shine of curiosity in your eyes, he sees that subtle spark of anger—anger on his behalf. once again, this idea makes him strangely giddy.
another shrug. toji leans his chin in his palm, gaze drifting to the side. "don't know. they just don't really fuck with hybrids."
you make a face. he suppresses a chuckle.
"as soon as they found out my old man got with my ma, they said i'd be trash," he continues. "cursed her for ruining his life. ever since i was born they told me that i wasn't like them. animal scum, y'know?"
he says all this very casually, but he finds that he cannot look away from you. he wants to greedily drink in every little expression, every sliver of emotion, every single detail that betrays your thoughts and feelings.
(he wants to open you up and dig through flesh and blood until he finds your beating heart. he wants to find it and gently hold it in his palms. take it and keep it close to his own so that it remains untouched—unhurt. safe.)
your expression looks sad now, and toji briefly regrets answering your questions. he finds that he really does not like this expression on you.
"so they just sent you there?" you ask, fiddling with your food. it seems like you've lost your appetite now. "that's it?
toji gives a noncommittal roll of his eyes. "well they spent eighteen years feeding me and growing me up. they figured i owed them for their generous charity."
another grimace of distaste.
"so as soon as i was an adult they sent me down there. been fighting ever since." he finishes the last bite of his food. licks his fingers clean. jade eyes find yours.
a sad dip of your brows. "i'm so sorry. that's terrible."
(you offer your comfort so willingly. naive and warm.
he is an animal. a greedy one. he will take and take and take until there is nothing left to give. until he is attached to your warmth at a level that goes microscopically deep. past skin and muscle and bone and blood.)
toji hums, standing up to go put his empty plate in the sink. just as he is passing by you, he notices your expression—he pauses in his tracks.
you purse your lips, hesitant. but you seem to get over whatever fear you had and speak up. "i'd give you a hug but i know you'll throw a fit."
(his ribcage jumps—he thinks he can feel himself salivate. dripping from his fangs.)
you grin to yourself, like you've told a joke. once again he greedily drinks it in. when you meet his eyes again, blinding smile just for him, he thinks he has been reborn.
"so i'll just say i'm glad you're here."
toji's throat goes dry. there is a flood of thoughts then—uncontrollable and honest. he wonders what it would feel like, a hug from you. if he thinks hard enough, he can imagine the brush of your fingers against his shoulders, around his waist. can feel the tickle of your hair under his chin. can feel the warmth of your cheek against his chest. can feel your scent fill his nostrils. the steady thrum of your heartbeat pressed against his own.
he swallows with a bit of difficulty.
your words dance in his ears—so frustratingly pleasant. i'm glad you're here.
only you could say something so disgustingly sweet and have his head spinning. he thinks you might be more dangerous than he is.
because strangely, his lips pull into a smile, one that is weirdly fond, and he reaches up to put a heavy hand on your head.
you blink, confused, as he ruffles your hair. it's not at all gentle—gruff and unrestrained in a way that is so inherently toji. but you relax under his touch without even realizing it yourself.
he wants to say more. wants to tell you that yes, he's glad to be here too. with you.
but he bites his tongue, drops his hand, and revels in the fact that he can at least look at you right in front of him.
"did your family really care that much when they found out a hybrid was gonna be born into the household?" you ask, and toji continues his walk over to the kitchen sink, answering over his shoulder.
"yeah. the zenins have always been so picky about their stupid bloodline."
from the corner of his eyes, he catches the way your jaw drops at his casual statement. his ears pick up the sounds of you tripping over yourself to follow him, and he almost laughs.
"wait wait zenin like the owners of that super huge company? the really rich ones? those zenins?!"
"that's the one," he smirks mirthlessly, pawing at the faucet. the sound of his family name drives away any remaining semblance of appetite he had. he sneaks a glance at your expression, finding a sliver of amusement at the wide eyed stare you're sporting. a quiet chuckle tumbles past his lips. "gonna tattle?"
your expression turns affronted as you scoff. "do you really have that little trust in me?"
"no. i trust you." he says it so blankly, a deadpan stare on his face as his jade eyes pin you to your spot. heat crawls up your neck, unaccustomed to such blatant honesty from the normally so closed off hybrid.
you clear your throat, and toji bites back a smile. the flustered expression on your face is new to him.
(there is warmth radiating off of your face that he has never felt before. he can see your eyes dart to the side, can see you shrink a little at his statement. his eyes trace the way your tongue darts out to wet your lips. this behavior is unfamiliar, but he thinks he likes it. flustered, embarrassed, shy—all because of him. the urge to brand himself with your name grows in his gut like a flame, hot and desperate.)
somehow he finds that his appetite has returned.
so so hungry.
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avocado-writing · 2 months ago
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Hey, I love your writing and I just saw Deadpool and Wolverine and fuck it was good!
Could I request a Dp x W x reader smut where Logan goes into rut? If not that’s totally fine, but I figured it doesn’t hurt to ask
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@saradika did an amazing Logan rut fic here, you really ought to go and read it if you like this kinda thing!
3.2k words. smut. minors dni
vaguely sub!Logan (he deserves to be taken care of); handjob (logan receiving); p in v sex (Logan giving, reader receiving); p in a sex (Wade giving, Logan receiving); knotting; fluff
It’s been a long day.
Logan is tired in a way he’s unused to being tired, at least for several years now - the kind where he’s worked himself to exhaustion after a hard day on the job. It’s not been easy, trying to build himself a new life from the ground up, make amends for how he was and attempt to be a good man again, but at least he’s got a pretty solid foundation beneath him: you and Wade.
He spots the two of you waiting outside the local bodega, finds himself rolling his eyes but smiling when Wade makes a big show of waving to him. Ahh. You two. He’s not quite sure where he fits in with your relationship, but you’ve both made it clear he’s welcome there. The three of you don’t go through something like what happened in the Void and come out without some pretty soul-deep bonds. And it’s… nice. It’s new.
Nothing too much has transpired yet, at least physically. The two of you are happy to pepper him in kisses but, so far, he’s gently turned down every invitation to join you in the bedroom. Not that he doesn’t want to. Fuck, he wants to. But he’s an old man now, a recovering drunk, and he has some… concerns about how well he’d be able to keep up. Doesn’t wanna humiliate himself between the two of you. So for now, he’s content to just be in a pile with you both when you’re watching a movie at night, held and caressed.
“Hey sugartits,” says Wade with a grin when he’s within earshot, “how was our hard-working man’s day at the testosterone factory?”
“Fine. Pretty fuckin’ tiring,” he confesses. He’s working manual labour at the moment, long days at a construction site, getting himself back into the shape he used to be. It’s good to feel like he’s doing something active and he’s making an okay paycheck too. You press a cool soda into his hand, a glass bottle, and he looks around before using his claws to pop the lid off. It’s refreshing as he gulps it down and he’s glad for it - no more booze. Not any more. He’s trying to be better and the two of you are either side of him to help get there.
“We got sandwiches for dinner, hope that’s okay,” you say, holding up a plastic bag. He breathes in the warm smell of the foil-wrapped food and…
… and he catches something else, too.
Something sweet, heady. It’s oozing off of you and Wade in waves. Catches in the back of his throat as he starts scenting the air properly. Oh fuck. 
His nostrils flare.
The two of you smell delicious.
And, for the first time in years, he can feel something begin to boil in his stomach, thick like molasses, the urge to mate.
Just lile that, he’s going into a rut.
“Logan, you okay?” you ask, noticing his shift in demeanour and reaching out to place a hand on his bicep. It’s like you’re made of static electricity, shooting a current all the way through him - and that’s just over his sleeve. God knows how he’d survive if it was skin-to-skin. He has to strangle a moan in his mouth before it can escape and incriminate him.
“Mmm. Not feeling so hot. Want to get home.”
You and Wade exchange a concerned look, but you know when not to push - and you stop Wade from doing so, too. He limits himself to an, “okay Peanut, keep your secrets I guess…” and leaves it there.
Logan makes himself hang behind as the two of you start the wander back to the apartment, tangling your fingers together and speaking in hushed tones. If he was in the state of mind to care more he’d try to listen in. He isn’t. The only thing he can concentrate on is trying not to get a semi in the street.
He thought he was over this. Thought that age and years of alcohol had grinded down that particular biological impulse. He’d sort of forgotten what it was like, actually, the urge to fuck so bad that part of his brain was worried it’d kill him if he didn’t. 
But then again, until now, he hasn’t had you both, has he? People who cared about him again. People who loved him. People who made it clear they’d look after him, whatever way he needed you to.
Fuck. Fuck. He needs to get home now.
It’s agony, the two of you walking in front of him. You both smell fucking amazing. There’s a soft, perfumey, light scent rolling off you; Wade’s slightly headier, nearly cloying. Together it is the most amazing combination he’s ever known. He digs his fingernails into the meat of his palm to steady himself until they bleed and heal, bleed and heal, bleed and heal - over and over. At least the pain is distracting.
When you open the door to the apartment he shoulders past you both and heads straight into the bedroom, attempting to slam the pathetic plywood door behind him and gruffly telling you not to follow. He can’t have you see him like this: animalistic, desperate, feral. So needy that it’s fucking humiliating. He needs to have something touching his dick, now.
He slumps down on the bed, hands fumbling at how quickly he tries to rid himself of his jeans. Fuck he wishes he hadn’t worn a belt this morning, just wasting time, getting in the way… he slices it off instead, flinging it to the side of the room where it hits the wall and lands on the shared washing basket. Three sets of clothes share that space like you share this one: yours, his, Wade’s. What a mixture. Fuck. For a moment he considers burying his face in it, smelling your combination and fucking himself to completion on the scent of home. At least he has the strength to resist that.
His cock is leaking when he pulls it out. Red, thick, pulsing in his hand as he wraps his fingers around it. Logan growls out a little noise of pleasure as he starts to work himself. He finds his hips bucking up pathetically into his own grasp but he knows it isn’t enough: if he’s going into a rut he’s going to need someone to help him through it. Look at him. Fucking pitiful old man jerking himself off because he has no control over his own body. What sort of partner would he make for you both?
“Logan, we just wanted to check you’re… oh.”
And then there you both are. In the doorway, eyes open and very much fixed on what he’s doing to himself. He can see the way Wade’s pupils dilate, how you lick your lips at the sight of his cock. 
“I mean, you could have told us you needed to bust one o–” you elbow Wade in the ribs, wiping the grin off of his face.
“Logan, honey,” you whisper, voice syrupy sweet. Oh shit. Another wave of pre dribbles down his knuckles and he hears Wade suck in a breath. “Do you need us to help?”
He can only grit his teeth and nod. He’d do anything to feel another set of hands on him right now.
Instead, he feels two.
Wade sits down on his right, you on his left. He doesn’t expect Wade to kiss him but he’s not exactly complaining about it either, not when the mercenary’s tongue swipes across his and it tastes so good. Your lips attach to the sweet spot of skin between his earlobe and his jaw and start to bite. Logan moans into Wade’s mouth as you nibble on him, tracing his pulse with your teeth.
When Wade pulls back it’s only to catch the back of your head and press your mouth to Logan’s too with a gravelly, “your turn.” Without debate you take over, kissing him softly but passionately, moaning against his lips. Your hand bumps against his, encouraging him to move it, and he does so dutifully - and it’s him moaning when you wrap around his cock.
“Fuck, look at that. Hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I used to subscribe to a lot of OnlyFans,” Wade murmurs, and Logan nearly yelps when he feels your hand get heavier on him. He glances down to see Wade has wrapped his fingers around yours so that you can both jerk him off at the same time. Fuck. Fuck. 
“Is this good?” you breathe, eyes wide. Logan can only groan and nod, and then suddenly he’s coming - a train to his guts, trickling down over both of you and choking out an amalgamation of your names. 
He feels you pull back, then hears you whisper “oh fuck” when he’s still hard.
“I told you!” Wade hisses. “I told you I thought he could go for multiple rounds!”
You press your fingers into his mouth to shut him up, making him lick Logan’s spend off your knuckles. He does so with surprising obedience. 
“‘S a biological thing,” Logan says through gritted teeth, still aware he’s throbbing even though he’s just had an orgasm, “gotta be inside someone to make it calm down.”
Your eyes widen. You and Wade look at each other.
“Do… do you have a preference?” you ask, voice low. He shakes his head.
“No. It’ll probably end up bein’ both of you by the end of the night.”
From the way the two of you light up, it’s as if he’s just announced that Christmas has come early. He watches, dumbstruck, as the two of you slap your fists into your palms, the same ones who just gave him the first non self-eked orgasm in years, and say in unison:
“Rock-paper-scissors-shoot!”
Your paper covers Wade’s rock. You grin and he grumbles.
“Fine, I’m more of a top, anyway…”
Logan watches the two of you begin to strip properly. If he had his senses about him this is something he’d enjoy doing himself, seeing every inch of soft curve you have to offer, the strong plain of Wade’s abdomen. But all he can do is stare with need as you unveil yourselves to him, two perfect presents he’s allowed to indulge in.
Wade’s hard, you’re pretty fucking soaked as you lay down on the bed in front of him, tapping his bicep to indicate the fact he’s still wearing his flannel shirt.
“This needs to come off,” you state, authoritatively. Well, fuck. That sends a roll of electricity down Logan’s spine which he wasn’t expecting. He starts to tug at it, pulling the material over his head as Wade fiddles with his jeans.
“These too big boy,” Wade mumbles, and he lets himself be handled by the two people he knows are sincere about looking after him. Together your abandoned clothes make a mess of the bedroom and Logan feels himself throb at the idea of being at the centre of the chaos.
“C’mere,” you sigh, opening your arms to him. Logan wastes no time in accepting the invitation, moving so that he’s above you and you’re able to part your legs to make room for his bulk. Any other time, any other time, he’d want to stretch this out. Maybe eat you out for a while as Wade is forced to watch, or vice versa… but right now all he can do is thrust wildly at your folds, feeling the blunt head of his cock slide against your wetness.
“C’mon loverboy, you can do it,” Wade whispers in his ear, and suddenly a scarred hand is wrapping around his length to guide him inside of you. Logan hisses as he sinks in with one fluid motion. You suck air in through your teeth, grinning up wildly at him.
“Fuck, Logan, that’s it…”
“How does he feel, baby?” asks Wade from where he’s reaching into the side table, though Logan’s whole body is so preoccupied with being inside a warm, wet hole that he can’t in that moment fathom why.
“Fucking fantastic,” you breathe as Logan starts to fuck you properly. There’s no rhythm to it, just utter desperation, just chasing that orgasm which will relieve him of the weight and languidness in his bones. You breathe roughly, the hair on his chest scratching your tits as they bounce up and down. You throw your head back and he buries his face in your neck, where your scent is strongest, and he knows he’s gonna have to go all night at this rate.
A finger circles his hole and for a second he freezes, throwing a glance over his shoulder.
Wade is lining himself up in position behind him, bottle of lube in one hand, the other teasing at his entrance. The mercenary cocks a brow.
“What, you never had someone fuck you like this before? Gimme a break, peanut. The amount of flannel and leather you wear, you’ve known you’re bisexual for a long time.”
If he had more control over his speech he’d bite something back at Wade, but right now…? Yeah. He wants Wade to fuck him like he’s fucking you.
“Go hard. I can take it,” he growls, continuing to plow down, sinking his cock impossibly deeper into your tight heat and making you squeal. He hears Wade whisper a prayer of thanks to whatever god is listening and then he presses two long, lubed fingers inside him.
It’s a strange intrusion. Logan hasn’t had someone there for a long while now. That’s not to say it isn’t good, because holy shit it feels amazing to fuck back onto Wade’s hand as he move his hips against you. Wade does as he’s been bid, stretching him open roughly and wantonly, pouring more out of the little bottle when needed to ease his access. A third finger is added and every time Logan moves back to drive further into you, he feels himself hit Wade’s knuckles. 
“Holy shit,” Wade mutters, “look at you, peanut! Taking me like a champ. You reckon I could fit my whole hand inside, or…?”
“If you don’t put your dick to good use in the next ten seconds I’m gonna rip it off,” Logan snarls, needy and ferocious. Wade doesn’t have an answer to that, instead positioning himself behind him and holding onto Logan’s hips to make him go still. You mewl at the loss of movement but it isn’t for long - Wade sinks himself balls deep inside of Logan, filling him to the brim.
“Fu-uu-uu-ck,” Wade groans, eyes rolling back, then to you: “you’re right, baby. This is pretty goddamn fantastic.”
You smile up at him from beneath both men, reaching up so you can take his hand in yours and squeeze his fingers in the solidarity of sharing a man you’ve both been fantasising about since you met him for the first time at that dingy bar.
Then Wade starts to move, and Logan loses himself.
It’s messy and uncoordinated, but fuck does it feel good to ride out his rut sandwiched between two partners. Each time Wade presses down his hips, his head hitting that spot inside that’s been neglected for decades, he’s forced to fuck into you. Your cunt makes lewd, thrilled noises as he goes, and you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders to bring him closer. Your tongue swipes the hinge of his jaw and Logan moans, cradled and cared for and adored.
His second orgasm is on the horizon and, with it, a feeling in his cock he hasn’t known for a long time. One he didn’t expect to know again. As Wade dips down to start pressing kisses all over his shoulderblades, Logan moves his mouth to the shell of your ear.
“Gonna knot you,” he manages, and though you can’t be entirely sure what he means, you nod enthusiastically.
“Oh fuck. Yeah. Do it, Logan,” you breathe. Fog floods his mind as he starts chasing his release inside of you, base of his cock swelling. Wade can clearly sense that something is on the horizon and quickens his pace, the idea of all of you finishing together just too good to pass up; Logan feels him catch his elbow and manoeuvre his hand towards where your hips meet his.
“C’mon Logan, if we don’t all cum it’s no fun,” he chuckles. Logan gets the picture and moves so that he can press his callused thumb into your clit and work rough circles there. When you gasp in pleasure so hard that your eyes roll back in your head, he knows it’s working. 
Fuck. He can’t last much longer. Wade fucks down into him, the heat in his stomach builds, and then—
It’s like fireworks.
He feels his knot force its way along the straining length of his cock and you gasp and squeeze him as it locks into place inside of you. He floods you with his cum, biting down on a pillow as it rocks him to his very core, keeps moving his hand and then you’re there with him, walls fluttering as you let out a string of very colourful language. Wade’s head tips forward to rest on his back as he empties himself inside of Logan, his hot seed spilling out and dripping onto the mattress below.
The three of you collapse for a moment to catch your breaths. Then suddenly your hand is slapping his arm.
“Fucking move, you two. You’re crushing me…”
“Oop,” Wade breathes, pulling out of Logan and making him hiss with the loss of contact, but meaning that he can roll over and have you rest comfortably on top of him. You sigh, happier now, nestling your head into Logan’s chest. Wade runs his fingers over the seam where you’re connected.
“So what, this just stays like this for…?” he leaves the end of the sentence open. Logan hums, pretty fucking blissful.
“‘Bout half an hour. Not too long.”
You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him. He can feel his cum ripple inside you obscenely, Wade’s own dripping out of his fucked-out hole. 
“You feel better now?” you breath, dropping a kiss on his pectoral.
“Yeah. Thanks. I, uh, appreciate it,” he manages. You and Wade grin at each other.
“Any time, pookie. Just remember, next time I have first dibs on that monster dong,” Wade states, slapping the side of his ass like he’s a prime piece of meat… but hey, maybe he is. Maybe he doesn’t mind so much if it’s coming from someone he cares about.
His cock twitches inside of you.
“Oh fuck, Logan, again…?”
“It lasts a few days,” he confesses. 
“A few days… I’m gonna go get the sandwiches. Well need sustenance for the road ahead,” Wade states, rushing out to the kitchen without even bothering to tug his sweatpants back on. Logan gives an affectionate chuckle and then, for a moment, it’s just you and him.
“Really,” he mutters, “thank you. Dunno what I’d have done if you two weren’t there.”
Your fingers come to tangle in his hair.
“Logan, honey. You don’t have to thank us. We love you,” you say, simply, and it stirs his heart in a way he hasn’t felt for a long time now.
Yeah. Maybe it'll take some time to say it out loud but loves you both, too.
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multific · 10 months ago
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In This Together
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Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Summary: Your period is late.
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You tried your best not to panic. You tried your best to keep it together.
You tried... but on the inside, you were panicking over it.
And who wouldn't be?
Your period was late! And you wanted to crawl into a hole and cry all day.
Overdramatic? Possibly, yes.
But you were scared, so in your mind, it all made sense.
You even got to a point on your third day that you avoided Mattheo at all costs.
Which he of course noticed.
He tried to catch you in the halls but you were quicker.
He even debated barging into the girl's restroom at one point. 
On the fifth day, he finally caught you and cornered you in the library.
"Why are you avoiding me?" he genuinely looked hurt.
"It's just..." you looked up at him, you knew no one was around you, so you decided to tell him. "I'm late."
"What do you mean? You don't have any classes."
"No..." you wanted to cry and yell but you just let out a sigh. "My period is late." you whispered and he froze in one place.
"But we always used... protection."
"Yes."
"How would it be possible? Did you check with the nurse?"
"I didn't check. My period always came when it should."
"We should go to the nurse."
"I'm scared." you said and you sounded so honest and desperate Mattheo hugged you.
"I'm here, we will figure it out okay? It could be that you are just a bit later than usual. Everything will be fine." he kissed your hair as you hugged him closer.
The next morning, you woke up to a certain pain.
A pain you knew very well.
And indeed, your panic was for nothing. You were simply later than usual.
You felt so relieved. 
Someone knocked on your door before barging in.
"Good morning, Beautiful, so, I made a plan. Simple but I think we could do it. So, you stay in school, I drop out. I go and work in a store or at the Ministry, anywhere. I will put all my paychecks to one side and it would be a start. Then, you can give birth and we would have a home, you can decide if you want to go to finish school after or work, but I also have a small inheritance from my father so we can figure it out."
You blinked at your boyfriend. 
"You didn't sleep did you?"
"Not a blink! Theo threw pillows at me because I kept mumbling, but I thought my plan was good. What do you say?"
"I really do appreciate you coming up with this, Matty but-"
"We are keeping the baby. I don't think that is up for debate... at least not to me."
"We don't have to keep the baby."
"But I want to! I-I realize we are young but we can do it."
"Matty, I'm not pregnant. You were right, my period was just later than usual."
"Oh." his shoulders slacked. "And I spent all night thinking..."
"I appreciate it, and it is very nice to know you wouldn't just leave."
"Of course, I wouldn't."
"Yes, I get it. You look disappointed."
"I'm not going to lie, I spent probably the last four hours just imagining the cutest kid with your eyes and smile and... I kinda am disappointed. It's okay though, I know your father would have killed me so at least now we can wait until after marriage."
"Yes, what? You want to get married?"
"Don't get me started on that. It was another sleepless night after you told me about your father and his... older views." you smiled and walked over to him. 
"I love you." you wanted to say so many things, but you knew this would be simple and enough.
"I love you too." you hugged him and kissed him. "Then, I will get you some chocolate and candy."
"Aww, thank you. Who could have thought you would be such a great boyfriend."
"Well, duh. I'm the best Slytherin."
"That you are."
"And the best boyfriend."
"Exactly." you pulled him in for another kiss.
You really feared that he would just run and be like the guy your friends thought he would be, but it was good to know that he had his own plans, and his future certainly involved you.
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Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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bunnys-kisses · 5 months ago
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john 'soap' mactavish just fucked the brains out of your skull the night he comes home after a five month mission. he first had you in missionary to stare at those beautiful eyes of yours, then in doggy style to get that depth in you. finally ending in cowgirl because he loves a girl in charge.
he finished the evening by finger-fucking you, shoving all the cum back into your sweet cunt with his tongue in your throat. his strong form practically pinned you down to the bed as he had his sweet way with you.
you're left as a sweaty, bitten up mess, only for him to waltz out naked like a man on top of the earth, to return with a take out bag of the local shawarma place. the logo stood out in your unfocused vision. for the next hour, johnny will be hand feeding you every last piece of the shawarma plate that he ordered for you.
"c'mon, bonnie. you always say how the falafal is never dry here. give me another bite." he then kissed the top of your head.
you can never doubt that you're beloved johnny won't take care of ya when he's done fuckin' ya. (wait till he shows ya the shiny paycheck he got from his latest mission) <3
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pandoraspurgatory · 17 days ago
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seeing your hc of katsuki being into vanilla homemade porn has me dazy eyed 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫….. i’m so curious now if there were any specific porn creators you thought of when envisioning what he liked? or any who you think would fuck like katsuki? goodness… 😵‍💫
Turbulent
Truthfully I am not a porn watcher as I am a porn reader, so that question is far beyond my knowledge lol. Though I’ve written an in depth version of Katsuki watching porn, hope you enjoy<3
Katsuki Bakugo can’t get off on mainstream porn, though something changes when he finds a couples homemade video
Katsuki Bakugo likes vanilla porn, masturbation, cum, pretty vanilla here, mentions of facefucking + cuckholding, Denki and Mineta are bitchless
Katsuki never cared enough nor paid much attention to porn, stroking himself in his bedroom wasn’t worth the effort when he could spend his time training and honing his skills as a 3rd year student close to graduating.
Either it was that, or the fact that he just couldn’t cum from it.
He first gave it watching porn a go when Denki and Mineta spent the afternoon yapping about different genres of porn. He wasn’t an eavesdropper, though he listened in on the conversation, taking notes for a later date.
Bakugo only ever found himself rubbing one out when he woke up with a painful hard on, or got so worked up over some fantasy that he couldn’t get his dick back down.
That same night Katsuki sat infront of his laptop, legs open and pants discarded on the carpeted floor, a bottle of lotion splayed out on the bed next to him. He opened up the first website that appeared after typing ‘porn’ in his browser, incognito mode on of course, he had double checked. Hastily typing what he had overheard in the orange and black search bar.
‘Face fucking’
He grimaced as he clicked on the first video of some Internet whore with a fat cock stuffed down her throat. Mascara running down her face as she started her assault of sucking on the comically large dick. He could somewhat imagine himself doing it, though the drool and mess was a massive turnoff that made him feel sticky just watching it. Next
‘Cuckholding’
The moment it appeared on his screen after searching a lot made sense regarding Denki and Mineta. Of course they were into this shit, why the fuck did he even decide to listen on to those morons conversation. He was confident he could never be into this. Next
The next hour was filled off him stroking his half erect cock to mediocre videos with no luck. He’d even watched the top most recommended on the site, the drum beat before each video posing as a reminder that this wasn’t working. At this point it wasn’t even to get himself off, but rather to prove to himself he could find a video to do it for him.
None of this shit on his laptop could even remotely turn him on, there was no love or intimacy, just videos of devoid eyes and lacklustre movements that screamed ‘I want to get home and get my paycheck!’.
He hated to admit it, though he couldn’t ever imagine himself having a one night stand or watching these emotionless videos again. Despite his rough and calloused nature, he craved intimacy just as much as he craved to be the best in his class. Katsukis cock lay limp in his hand as he scrolls through the videos, more and more loading after each roll of the laptop mouse.
That was until a certain video caught his eye.
‘Our first video - couple homemade’ 12 views, posted 2 hours ago
He clicked on it, something felt different about this one. The thumbnail displaying what seemed to be a couple in their mid twenties, kissing in the frame of the video. The women had long black hair and sexy curves that made Katsukis dick twitch. The man she was with cupping her face gently with deep admiration for her in his eyes.
As the video slowly played out on his screen, he paid no mind to the humming background noise of their bedroom fan and the shitty resolution. What struck him was the way they kindly talked to each other, pressing small yet passionate kisses on each others faces, how their soft hands rubbed and stroked at one another with care and love.
Katsukis hand roughly gripped around his dick before he could even think to do it. Feeling himself desperately stroke faster each time the couple said sentences of care and sweet nothings to each other. Low moans he didn’t anticipate escaping his mouth as the man slowly inserted himself into the curvy brunette. He wasn’t even attracted to the couple in the video, though he couldn’t help but feel the coil in his stomach build as the intimacy of their love making displayed itself before him.
He wanted to be the one to do it, to bury his cock into his hypothetical girlfriend and dick her down with all the love in his heart. Apart of him felt weird for not being turned on by the professionally made studio porn instead of the homemade couple video with a total of 500 pixels. He tried not to think about it too hard, and focus on how hard his shaft throbbed in his hands.
He felt blissed out as he slowly edged himself, determined to cum at the same time as the couple, a desperately attempt at feeling included. Squeezing his tip harder every time pretty moans escaped their mouths, fuck he wanted to be in their position so badly.
“F-fuck babe… mmmnggg… gonna cum”
“That’s it, come for me pretty girl”
“Cum with me! I wanna feel you cum inside me”
Katsukis stomach felt hot, he was so turned on by the way they spoke to each other, the way they both quickened their movements desperate to make each other cum.
The moment the couple on the screen cried out in pleasure, Katsuki gave a few quick tugs, finishing himself off.
He gave out an embarrassingly loud groan as he released himself, ropes of his cum shooting onto his laptop screen. Panting as he laid back on his bed, he needs someone to do this with as soon as fucking possible
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