#i can hear his heart beating. for all that that means.

[yutarot]

IN PERFECT SYNC [j.jh smau]

eighteen — it was me. wc: 2.0k

you still.

the timing, the fucking timing.

your finger hovers over the accept button, the green light reflecting off your thumb as if its warning you off from the consequences of pressing it.

you couldn’t possibly accept it, i mean, after that conversation the other day, jaehyun drenched through at your doorstep as you implied your clear distaste towards him, you would just feel weak answering the call.

you didn’t need to know why he was calling. right?

so you decline.

it feels good for a total of 13 minutes. until he calls again. and again.

maybe it’s urgent, you reason with yourself. maybe he needs me.

but nothing in this world could ever make jeong jaehyun need you, you were confident of that after hearing all those rumours two years ago.

he never needed you. he never wanted you.

so why now?

fuck it.

the next call, you pick up.

he’s silent, but you can hear him breathing softly on the other end of the phone. and you’re sure that he can hear the same from yours.

after a few moments, he speaks.

“yn..” he says slowly, as if he’s testing out the word on his lips for the first time. but you know it’s not the first, and now your curious of his carefulness. “we need to talk.”

you sigh, but it’s not in annoyance. you’re not sure what it’s in, but it’s definitely not happiness either. it’s somewhere.. in between.

“did something happen?” you ask, quiet, almost a whisper.

you don’t need to see his face to know he’s saying no, that he’s saying there’s something else. his silence speaks the words for him.

so you continue. “i’ll be over in 10. this better be worth my time, jeong.”

he clears his throat, “thank you.” as he hangs up. leaving you wondering what the hell he wants you for.

and why the hell you’re agreeing to it.

you knock on his door, one, two, three times. it’s a little signature thing you and jaehyun used to do in highschool, he knew you were nervous to answer the door to strangers, so he came up with the idea of knocking 3 times, in even beats, everytime you were at eachothers door. all so you knew that it was him. all so that you would feel safe.

you move the thoughts aside when he opens the door.

this isn’t like the other day, this is different. he looks at you for a moment, a small hint of a smile tracing his lips before its gone as quick as it came, vanished into the cold darkness of the night behind you.

“yutas out.” he starts, “come in.”

slowly, you creep into his dorm. it looks exactly the same as when he started. it looks exactly the same as the night you confronted him about the rumours, the night you cried at him until your throat was sore.

you sit on the couch in the middle of the room, jaehyun sitting on the coffee table in front of you, leaning his elbows onto his knees as he looks to the floor.

“why did you want me here, jaehyun?” you ask.

he looks up, face unreadable.

he’s silent again. still.

all you can hear is your heart, speed gaining and gaining and-

“it was me.”

it stops. not only your heart, but seemingly time around you too.

you’re finding it hard to distinguish between the rush of blood to your head and the anguish you feel from hearing those three words out loud. from no one’s lips except the man you hate the most. the man you least expected to mutter them.

it.

was.

me.

they keep replaying over and over in your mind.

it.

was.

me.

you can’t stop it, like a broken record, a carousel that refuses to halt.

like a lie that spiralled too far.

“you’re lying.” you spurt.

it.

was.

me.

he gulps, shaking his head side to side in small, reluctant movements. in disagreement.

“i know how this looks.” he replies. “but yn, please-“

it.

was.

me.

“no.” you interrupt him, standing to your feet.

he stands with you. “please.”

the words stop playing in your head as you watch him. his eyes pleading with you, a face you have never seen him wear.

“please, yn.”

you sit again. he sits with you.

“fine.” you reply.

“it’s been eating away at me, yn. its been eating away at me since the scores were announced.”

your eyebrows furrow. you thought he was just telling you he had been sending you the messages, a sick cruel means of messing with you.

“what?”

“i sabotaged my own team.”

now, you’re silent.

he continues. “i’m a horrible person yn, i should never have done this to my team, i should have never done this to you.”

“…why?” you murmur.

“your mother.”

you look up, expecting some sick, disgusting ‘ur mom’ joke, but he laughs in exhale.

“no, no, no, not like that.” he says, “i’m serious.” he pauses to look at you, “you never told me the reason you started ballet was to continue your mothers dream, why did you never tell me that?”

“why should i?”

“because it changes everything, yn!”

his outburst shocks you, and he mutters an apology before continuing, speaking quietly.

“look,” he’s barely above a whisper. “i already found it hard enough to pretend i hated you. i couldn’t let myself beat you, i couldn’t take that away from you, yn, no matter how much you may hate me. i can’t hate you the way you do, me.”

you’re confused. so if he really did sabotage his team, that means he really is..

Y..

and that means that every single message he sent was true.

“but how…?” you whisper, confusion lining your face.

his head cocks to the side. you continue.

“how could you… mean any of that.. after what you did?”

his face goes stone cold. he looks back to the ground.

you quickly take it back, regretting your decision to bring that up. “never mind, forget i asked, im leav-“

“it’s not true.” he’s still staring at the rug below your feet. you can hear the clock on his wall, ticking away, and counting each and every thought as it speeds past your mind.

“wha-“

“none of it. none of it is true, yn.” he looks up at you, his face of pleading is gone, replaced by a stern expression.

jaehyun has rehearsed this moment in his head over and over, ever since you were 18. ever since he was falsely accused of using you.

he stands up, looking down at you and he speaks.

“i never spoke shit about you to any of the girls i slept with, yn. i never told them you were annoying, that you were ugly or that i was just keeping you around to make myself look better. i never thought any of that.”

you struggle to breathe, to absorb everything he’s telling you.

“yn, it wasn’t like that. i told one girl about you.”

“oh great, that helps, thanks jaehyun.” you say sarcastically.

but he interrupts you.

“no. i told her how sweet you are. how pretty and perfect you are. about how every time i would leave the room without my phone, you would take it and fill my camera roll with cute little photos of yourself. i told her about how i kept every single one, in fear that if i was to ever lose you, i would have a lifetime supply of you, stored away in my pocket.”

you blink.

“i never wanted to get rid of you, yn. i wanted you for myself. the only problem was, she wanted me for herself. so she created the rumour that i said all those horrible things about you, spread by other girls who wanted me like she did, in hopes that you would hear about it and leave me. and you did. and i don’t blame you one bit.”

“but…” you can’t process it, not yet. you can’t believe the words hes telling you. this whole time you had been so set on how you felt, you’d been so set on how much you hated him. “why didn’t you tell me the truth.”

“i didn’t want you to find out.”

your eyebrows fold in confusion and he explains.

“i was 18, i was stupid and afraid that having a crush on my bestfriend was a horrible idea. so i couldn’t let you find out. i decided that letting you hate me would be the easier option. well, for you. for me though, it’s was hell. well, i mean, i have all those selfies of you in my camera roll still, that helped a little.” he laughs, but you don’t find it funny.

jaehyun, the man you’ve hated for two years, the man you loved for many more. here he was, telling you how much you mean to him, to the point where he chose your happiness over his own.

“oh my god…” you whine, “how did i not realise.”

“what?” he asks, concerned.

“yuno. thats what Y stands for.”

he laughs, and it’s warm. for the first time in 2 years, you feel comforted, excited by what the future brings.

after talking for the next hour, you discover that jaehyun really didn’t realise it was giselle he slept with, thinking it was just some random ncu girl.

you no longer have reason to hate jaehyun and the guilt you feel overwhelms you. jaehyun realises that you have alot to take in, and he doesn’t expect an apology, but you can’t leave him without giving one. not after all the hatred you have given him.

he walks you to his door.

“goodnight yn, thank you for hearing me out.”

“hey jae,” his eyes light up at the nickname, just like the other night, except this time, the light lingers. “i’m sorry, for everything.”

“no, don’t be, it was my fault. i was the one who let you believe it was true. i was the one who let you hate me.”

you smile, “then.. thank you.”

“goodnight, yn.”

“goodnight, jae.”

he goes to shut the door, but you remember something.

you rememeber one message.

a message from Y.

a message from jaehyun.

“i’m over you.” you repeat the message as if you’re asking a question.

his eyes widen for a split second before settling back to his normal, cold image.

“i meant it.” he says, “im over you.”

you nod, slowly, giving him a small smile and twisting on your heel and out the door.

he shuts it gently behind you.

he’s over you.

his words come back, spinning over and over again in your mind.

it was me.

one word sticks out to you. one word slap-bang, directly in the middle.

one word that changes everything, yet nothing at the same time.

one word.

‘was.’

mlist — next

notes; my GOSH it’s been so difficult hiding this from u guys in the replies hating so much on jaehyun 😞😞 i really hope you enjoyed this chapter (if you’ve read the tags then you know what’s coming) thank you for getting this far, and i hope you look forward to what’s next!

taglist — open; @https-yeonjun @chenlesfavorite @therealbobbyshloby @f6llsun @jkslvsnella @nanaxwi @cloudmrk @neocrashed @vernonburger @vividwritess @taeeflwrr @mmjhh1998 @cyjzzl @stareaa @minkyuncutie @mrkleelvr @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @slayhaechan @jaeveil @tynlvr @mslora @nosungluv @grassbutneo @dokyriu @girlz4jaem @axo-l0tl @yyangj3lly @solvrse @m1ng1swife @gentlepeach @xiuriii @soobinbunnie5 @tocupid @apolloxxivmin @ctrlstar @gyuguys @tokitosun @i-kai @flamingi @mrkleelvr @en-dream @queenrachelpink @ssweetreveries @swanyvess @flaminghotyourmom @hyuck-me @cryingforjae @hizhu @starfilledgaze

[writeriguess]

kirishima x insecure reader where he overhears that she has a huge crush on him please. have a good day!

It was late afternoon at U.A. High, and you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the common room. Your close friend, Mina Ashido, sat beside you, and you hesitated, your fingers nervously playing with the hem of your sleeve.

“You’ve been acting strange lately, you know that?” Mina teased, nudging you playfully. “What’s up? You can tell me anything.”

You felt a rush of warmth to your cheeks as you tried to avoid eye contact. Mina was sharp and had probably noticed the way you’d been acting around a certain someone. Your heart pounded every time he was around, and it was becoming harder and harder to keep it a secret.

Finally, after what felt like ages, you whispered, “Okay, okay… promise you won’t tell anyone?”

Mina’s eyes lit up. “Of course! You know I’m good with secrets.”

You swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I have... I have the biggest crush on Kirishima.”

As soon as you said it, you felt like you wanted to curl up into a ball. Admitting it out loud felt like the most vulnerable thing you’d ever done.

“What?!” Mina gasped, clearly trying to suppress a squeal. “Oh my gosh, that’s so cute!”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “It’s not cute, it’s embarrassing. He’s so confident and amazing, and I’m just… not. He’d never go for someone like me.”

Mina frowned and shook her head. “That’s not true at all! Kirishima isn’t the type to judge people like that. You’re amazing, and he’d be lucky to have you.”

Little did you know, Kirishima was standing just outside the room. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but he was frozen in place, wide-eyed as he overheard the conversation. The words tumbled around in his mind — You liked him? His heart raced at the thought, but he also felt a pang of sadness. You thought you weren’t good enough for him?

He knocked on the door, pretending he hadn’t heard anything, and stepped inside. “Hey, what are you two up to?” he asked casually, flashing his usual bright grin.

You stiffened, feeling like the ground was about to swallow you whole. Did he hear anything?

Mina smirked knowingly but kept quiet, just giving you a reassuring look before standing up. “I think I’ll leave you two to talk,” she said, almost too casually. She shot you a wink and walked out, leaving you alone with Kirishima.

Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as you tried to keep calm. “H-Hey, Kirishima…”

“Hey,” he said, a little softer than usual. There was something different in his expression — his usual carefree smile was still there, but his eyes seemed more serious. “Can we talk?”

You nodded, unsure of where this was going.

Kirishima took a deep breath, his usual confidence faltering for a moment. “Look, I heard what you were talking about earlier. I wasn’t trying to listen, but... I overheard.”

Your stomach dropped. He knows?

“W-What did you hear?” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Kirishima stepped closer, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “I heard that you like me. And… I also heard that you think you’re not good enough for me, which is just ridiculous.”

Your eyes widened in shock, and you opened your mouth to protest, but he held up a hand, stopping you gently.

“You’re amazing,” he continued, his voice steady and sincere. “You’re kind, strong, and always working so hard to improve. I’ve noticed how determined you are, even if you don’t see it in yourself.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you looked down, overwhelmed by his words. “I just… I didn’t think someone like you would ever be interested in someone like me.”

Kirishima’s expression softened, and he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Well, you were wrong,” he said softly. “Because I’ve liked you for a while now too. I just… didn’t know how to say it.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. “You… like me?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I do. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”

For the first time, a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

Kirishima shook his head, his smile growing. “No way! I wouldn’t lie about something like this. You’re super cool in your own way, and I really like that about you.”

You blushed, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. For the first time in a long time, the insecurities that had been weighing you down started to lift, just a little.

“So… what now?” you asked, your voice still soft.

Kirishima grinned and held out his hand to you. “Well, how about we start with dinner? I know this great ramen place we can go to. You up for it?”

You stared at his hand for a moment, your heart racing, before finally taking it, feeling a spark of hope and excitement. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

And as you walked side by side with Kirishima, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, you were enough after all.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[mattmurdocksscars]

vampire matt 😋 cooing at you and promising to bite soooo gently

"Come on, sweetheart. I'll be gentle. I promise you won't feel anything but pleasure." He purrs, eyes dark and focused around your mouth. His lips twist up into a salacious smirk and you can't help the way your heart beats faster at the sight. Something you're aware he can hear and damn if that doesn't turn you on more.

You lick your lips, mouth suddenly dry as you think of all the places you'd let him put his mouth. You wonder if he would bite you in places other than your neck. You wonder just how much pleasure it provides. You know vampire bites are designed to be pleasurable, a way to reel in unsuspecting humans.

But you are anything but unsuspecting.

You've been with Matt for some time now and he's always been an open book to you. He's also never hurt you. So you know that if he's promising a gentle bite, one that's full of pleasure, he means it.

"What do you say, sweetheart?" His voice cuts through your thoughts and you shiver at the underlying tone. This would be a step the two of you had never taken. You trusted Matt though. You knew he would take care of you. So you put out your hand and took a step in his direction.

"Anything for you, my love."

[liverspaghett]

Loser Trapped in A Hot Body

Jooyeon x fem reader

Super late birthday special for Joo

W/c: roughly 2700

Warnings: degrading (m rec), sub Jooyeon, Joo is needy whiny and sensitive , begging, not proofread

tags: @sol3chu @joosbasschick

Today was the day you'd waited several months for. Today your favorite band will be playing at your local bar. You adored their music and hoped that they could become popular, but you're glad they aren't as of now so seeing them wasn't nearly that expensive.

A small fan base doesn't mean a less crazy one though. The fans were known for being particularly blunt and would share anything with you, be it you wanted to hear or not. They were renowned to be fairly horny people. Can you blame them though? I mean the group was hot. Especially the bassist. The band didn't name their fan base, the fans did it themselves. They call themselves sluts. You want to say you're embarrassed to call yourself a slut, but really you're not, it's hilarious.

You get dressed in a cute and revealing outfit. You look ready to go “whoring about” as your friend would say. She means it lightheartedly as you two joke that way often. You fix your hair and makeup. Your smudgy eyeliner and shaggy hair suit the look perfectly. You put in your septum ring and step back to look at yourself. After a moment of thinking, you decide on some chunky black sneakers.

Your friend looks at you approvingly. She would be going with you. She was already dressed and ready. You were both ready to leave now. You excitedly grab your bag and get in the car, driving to the bar. The sun is on the verge of setting when you head inside.

The bar is lively with people all about. Music blasts and lights dance in the dark room. Your body betrays your mind's appeal to appear calm and confident. You turn around, moving your body to the music. You feel intoxicated without having even drunk anything. Your friend smiles, but is too shy to join in. The song ends and the lights dim. You turn around and you're facing a stage, now set with instruments and six familiar and very sexy guys.

The lights adjust, one shines directly on the bassist, Jooyeon, and he's sporting a new look. Crazy black hair and dramatic eyeliner. His torn black and white sweater over his black pants and chunky black boots. All of it is tied together with his chunky silver accessories and black lipstick. You were intrigued by his new darker than usual look. You adored it. He was still getting ready when he glanced over, accidentally locking eyes with you. His eyes traveled slowly down your body. He took every part of you into his eyes. You glared back at him. You looked aggressive, and he was into that.

Another member of the band, Gaon, hit him on the shoulder, bringing him back from his trance. He made some joke that you couldn't hear, but Jooyeon laughed so it must've been funny. If he says something is, that's how it'll be. He at least had that effect on you. The sound of the boys’ amps turning on directs all of the attention to them. They look confident and excited to play. Those of us in the crowd who are fans cheer. Gunil counts off their first song and they start playing.

Jooyeon can't help but steal a glance at you every now and then. He plays effortlessly though he's only half-minded right now. All of his thoughts are on you, putting his hands on autopilot to play. He doesn't even realize he's been straight up staring at you until the song ends, ringing him conscious again.

They play for another hour and Jooyeon simply observes you while he plays. He watches as you dance, you look so loose and comfortable, like you're genuinely enjoying yourself. He smiles. Just then you turn around to look at him. Your eyes lock and Jooyeon feels his heart skip a beat. He looks down, pretending to focus on his guitar. When the last song ends, he puts his bass back on the stand, his face is glistening with sweat and his furrowed brows add a tinge of spice to his look.

The band disperses into the crowd, enjoying themselves now that the regular music has begun playing again. When you feel a gap on your shoulder, you least expect it to be Jooyeon, eyeing you down with a smirk.

“Mind if I buy you a drink, beautiful?” He places his hand on your shoulder, trying not to infringe on your personal space too much. You blush at his boldness. Was he really asking you of all the people here for a drink?

“Sure,” you try to keep your cool, replying as nonchalantly as you can. He strikes up conversation as you make your way over to the bar.

“I’m Jooyeon,” he says, introducing himself with a sheepish smile.

“I know,” “You reply confidently. Jooyeon blushes. His heart swells with excitement at being recognized.

“You know me? You know the band?” He looks to you with shimmering eyes that contrast to his dark look.

“Yeah, I love your music,”

“Well, enough about me then, what’s your name?” He puts his best attempt forward to look and act cool. Meeting a fan wasn’t something he’d planned on.

“I’m y/n.” You answer. He nods, liking the sound of your name. You take a seat on the barstool and Jooyeon finds himself in the one beside you. You boh sit facing each other, intrigued in conversation. A couple drinks in and you don’t hear a thing coming from his mouth. He just keeps yapping nonsense, but you look at him intently, though your mind is distant.

You're in a haze of thoughts and scenarios. You can’t seem to scratch the thought of kissing him. His black lipstick stood out in contrast to his pearly white teeth when he smiled. He stopped talking for a moment, realizing you were only half-present. He smirks and brushes your hair out of your face, bringing you back to reality.

“What's on your mind?” He asks. You blush, realizing he probably picked up on your thoughts. He had caught you staring at his lips.

“Oh uh, nothing” your lies become poor as the alcohol sets in. Not even the drunkest guy in here would buy it.

“Oh come on, I saw you looking,” Jooyeon teases, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well it's your own fault. Who said you could come out here looking so hot?” Your filters wither away, allowing you to spew out your thoughts without hesitation. He finds it more than amusing. It's equally arousing.

The things between then and now are blank in your mind, and it's probably for the better. You have Jooyeon pinned to the wall on the narrow hallway that leads to bathrooms and employee entrances. His lips are parted, gasping for air while you aren't kissing him like some rabid animal. Lipstick is smeared all over his face and his eyes are glossy with desire. You can almost hear his heart thumping in his chest, threatening to burst from the adrenaline that courses through his veins. He's dizzy from all the blood in his system flooding his cock that begs to be released from his tight leather pants. He moans into your kiss, taking everything you offer him with pleasure, but he needs more.

“Can we… go to your place?” His words barely cohesive under his breathy panting.

“Yeah, come on” you grab his wrist and drag him to your car. He gets in the passenger seat obligingly. You can see in tense demeanor that he’s really needy. A tent has long since formed in his pants. You reach over, placing your hand on his thigh, pulling his legs open and caressing his inner thigh with some force. You give it a squeeze and his legs threaten to close. He’s facing the ground. His face is deep red. He’s shy and can’t bring himself to look at you. Your hands move with confidence, slowly dragging up his thigh and grazing over his crotch. He gulps, a slight whimper escaping his throat at the contact.

You pull into your driveway, glad your friend had decided on going home tonight. Jooyeon follows you inside and you don't make it past the couch.His whines are even more beautiful than his singing voice.

"Please..." He sounds on the verge of tears. His eyes are sewn shut.

"It hurts" he says. His cock must be aching to get out. You help him stand up and unzip his pants agonizingly slow. His chest rises and falls quickly, his breath becoming increasingly restrained as you undress him. Jooyeon's had several one night stands before, but he's never been the sub. He appears to have unlocked a new part of him.

Your eyes are intense and your gaze is merciless as you take in the look of his exposed lanky frame. His cock stands straight up, pressed flush against his stomach. Precum smears his stomach and his tip is deep red from being so hard.

"You're so sensitive," you say in awe, his body reacts to everything, even the change in the air as you move.

"Been horny all day, can't take it anymore" he's whiny. Really, really whiny. He'll do anything if you just say the word.

You wrap your hand around his length and his legs threaten to give out. He's already on the verge of cumming and you've barely touched him. He was needy, whiny, and pathetic for you. He's never been dominated before but it was the switch up he didn't know he needed.

You help him sit down on the couch again and situate yourself beside him. You bring your hand back to his cock, stroking it excruciatingly slow. You take your sweet time with the poor boy. Tears well up in his eyes and you scoff at him, making him jump slightly.

"You're so pathetic Jooyeon" you laugh. It makes his cock throb in your hand. A gutteral moan escaping his throat. Your hand speeds up and his body shakes underneath you. You can feel him getting close, and just before he can cum, you pull away, leaving him disappointed.

"The fuck was that for?" He scolds. His eyes are still glossy, but he furrows his brows, trying to appear angry.

"I'm not letting you cum so fast now baby, gotta be patient" you remark, he sulks down, submitting to you.Your hand finds it's place stroking him again. He writes under your touch, urgent to cum. Before he reaches his climax again though, you're pulling away. He cries out in desperation.

"I'll let you cum if you get on your knees and beg for it" his eyes snap to look at you, caught completely off guard.

"Me? Beg? Not happening" Jooyeon scoffed. He wasn't about to get down and beg! That would be so humiliating. Though as the seconds ticked by and his cock throbbed, begging for attention, the idea started to intrigue him.

"Ok, you won't be cumming, but I still need to." You start peeling your clothes off of your body, revealing what's underneath. Jooyeon's face heats up in response. He's aching for attention.

"Fine," he sighs. You smirk, trying to hide your excitement.

"Fine what Joo?" Your voice is coated in a false sense of sweetness. He tries to avoid your gaze by looking down at your feet.

He picks himself up and lowers himself onto the floor. His cock is pressed against his stomach from the painful erection. He looks at you with pleading eyes.

"Please y/n" he sobs. Tears streaming down his face.

"Please- I can't take this anymore. Need you so bad" You smirk, pleased with his begging, and squat down to look him in the eye. His face is in the grip of your hand. Your fingers squish his cheeks, causing his lips to pout as he looks at you with fear and excitement.

"What was that pup?"

"Please! I need you!" He chokes on his tears and coughs out his pleads. His legs shake underneath him.

You push him back, causing him to fall. He leans back on his arms, peering up at you. He's enjoying the bullying. You straddle his lap, sticking his tip between your folds and running it back and forth.

Your arousal soaks his erection, you're riding him now, soaking his entire length without even putting it in. he's pushing his orgasm again, hoping you don't rip it away from him. Lewd sounds of your fluids and the smacking of your skin gets you both so turned on. His tip hits your clit with every move of your hips.

"'m so close" be sobs, whispering just loud enough to hear over his breathy pants. He fails to grab a fistful of the carpet beneath him leaving his fist clenched and empty. His knuckles are white from the tension. One more thrust from your hips and he's whining as cum spurts up his torso. The throbbing of his cock makes you see stars. You're on the verge of cumming as well, but you aren't done with him.

As you pull away, arousal mixed with precum and a bit of cum string between you two. You can feel it leak down the sides of your legs from the sheer amount. Jooyeon's torso is painted white and his face is beet red and tear stained. He shivers from the aftershocks of his orgasm. He didn't think he would enjoy being humiliated so much.

"I hope you aren't done yet, I haven't came" you say, sounding a little strict. Jooyeon looks at you, struck with fear and anticipation.

You grab his cock, positioning him to your entrance. It had ready begun to soften, but the moment his tip is between your warm, soaked walls, he's hard again. You lower down on him, giving yourself time to adjust to his size. Whimpers escape from his throat though he tries to choke them back. His tip kisses your cervix just as he bottoms out. He fits perfectly inside of you.

With one movement, you pick up and push him back in, starting to set a pace for your thrusts. This time, you properly ride him. The overstimulation has him writhing underneath you, begging for you to stop, but at the same time, he yearns for more.

You approach your orgasm again and you can feel he's close as well. You pull off of him, depriving him of his second orgasm, and take his hand, pressing it on your clit. He smiles and gladly starts rubbing circles on the nerve, causing you to jump. He takes his other hand, his pointer and middle finger, and press them inside of you. He almost cums from feeling you so wet around his fingers alone. His hips seek friction, jerking against his will. The sound of your wetness smacking from his fingers turns him on, he's as hard as when you began.

He curls his fingers inside you, your body reacts without permission. Your using his shoulders as support as he fingers you. Your hips roll into his skillful hands, making you appear desperate. You lock eyes intimately, and the magnetism between you two pulls you together. His kiss triggers your orgasm, your legs tense and your walls clench around him. You're breathing deep, sharp breaths into his mouth.

After you ride out your high, Jooyeon retreats his fingers that are now soaked in your essence. He runs his hand between your folds, collecting as much if your arousal as he can. His hand is soaked when he pulls away. You get off of his lap and see what he was doing.

He takes his cock in his hand. The same hand that cleaned you up in one swipe. He used your wetness to lubricate his hand and now he's getting off with it. He strokes vigorously, looking at your bare body.

When he reaches his second orgasm, coating himself in another load, he looks at you. He's completely spent. He reaches his arms out, expectant that you'll spoil him. You help help clean up and lead him to your bed, covering him up and laying beside him. You wrap your arms around him and he snuggles into you sweetly.

Normally, Jooyeon wouldve been gone by now, already back at the dorms. He's had plenty of hookups, but you were special. When you wake up, he's still between your arms. He smiles as he looks up to you, glad you're awake.

"Can I have your number?"

[freshl6ve]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐄. . .

NSFW!! | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑─𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊

₊⊹⁀➴ : Late at night, Y/N is startled by a knock on her door. It's Chris, her dealer, who has been MIA for weeks. Looking worn and anxious, he explains he’s been laying low and had to take care of business.

𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐋𝟔𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋

˚⊱🪄⊰˚ : 𝐀𝐬 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐦𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐧, scrolling mindlessly through social media, a knock on the door ripped me from my digital reverie. My heart skipped a beat, and I looked around, startled. Who could be knocking in the dead of night? Rising from my seat with hesitation, I padded toward the front entrance, curiosity overtaking my unease.

The moment I cracked open the door, my eyes widened with a touch of disbelief. Standing before me was Chris, and it was instantly clear that something was seriously amiss. He appeared more drained than I’d ever seen him. Wrapped in a bulky hoodie that shielded his face and adorned in a sinister all-black ensemble, he bore an air of mystery mixed with a hint of danger.

“Chris?” I stammered, my voice shaking with a mix of surprise and a tinge of unease. His arrival was unexpected, especially at this late hour.

Chris shifted, his hands slipping from his pockets as he replied, his voice betraying a weariness that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Can I come in?” he asked, his tone holding a hint of desperation.

Without another word, I nodded, my curiosity now tinged with a growing sense of unease. I stepped aside, reluctantly allowing him entrance into my home. The door swung shut behind him, and I turned to get my first good look at Chris in his strange getup.

Chris perched on a stool by the kitchen island, leaning heavily against the countertop. The dim lighting cast an eerie glow over him, highlighting the shadows beneath his eyes and the gaunt lines of his face. I couldn't help but feel a nagging sense of concern and confusion as I observed him in the subdued kitchen.

“Chris,” I began, my voice laced with concern. “Where have you been? You've been MIA for weeks, and now you show up at my door like this?” I gestured towards his shadowy, all-black appearance and the haggard expression etched into his features.

Slowly, Chris lowered his hoodie, revealing a face that was a mix of exhaustion and determination. His hair, tousled from the confinement of his hood, added to his worn-out appearance. I couldn't help but notice the bags under his eyes, a stark contrast to the carefree demeanor he once exhibited.

Chris ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, attempting to tame the unruly locks. “I've been out of town,” he said, his voice tinged with a mix of weariness and purpose. “Had some business to take care of. It was... complicated.” His eyes met mine, a hint of vulnerability glimmering beneath his fatigued facade.

In that moment, our eyes locked across the kitchen island, and I couldn't help but notice how, despite his obviously haggard appearance, he somehow looked surprisingly attractive in his all-black ensemble. The messiness of his hair only added to the enigma that surrounded him.

Recovering from the momentary distraction of his appearance, I found myself annoyed by his unexpected arrival. “Couldn't have texted me that?” I interjected, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “You just disappeared without a word, and now you're back, looking like you've been through the wringer. What the hell, Chris?”

Chris let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders drooped in defeat. “I couldn't, Y/N,” he replied, his voice laced with sincere apology. “Things got complicated, and it was safer for both of us if I went off the grid for a while.” He paused, his gaze searching mine as he tried to communicate the depth of his situation. “I don't mean to worry you, but it was necessary, believe me.”

The way he spoke my name, soft yet laced with sincerity, sent an electric shiver down my spine. It was a sound I yearned to hear, a connection that I had been missing. In that moment, I couldn't help but feel a surge of longing, wishing for him to call out to me once more.

Chris mustered a small, weary smile, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. “I'm here now, though,” he said, his voice tinged with a touch of humor. He continued, “Thought I'd come by and see my favorite costumer.” I shook my head, a faint chuckle escaping my lips. I couldn't deny the magnetic pull he had on me, even in his current state. I glanced down at the marble island countertop, my fingers tracing its cool surface.

The silence stretched for a moment, then Chris broke the tension with another soft confession. “I've missed you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice gravelly and laced with genuine emotion. The sincerity in his words left me momentarily speechless, caught between a mixture of surprise and a warmth blossoming in my chest. I looked up, meeting his gaze, unsure of what to say but knowing that my feelings for him mirrored his own.

The words left my lips before I could stop them, “I thought we weren't doing this anymore,” I said with a hint of sadness. It was a stark reminder of the boundaries we had established, of the lines we had drawn to keep our relationship purely professional. The weight of our unspoken connection hung in the air, undeniable but still, unspoken.

Chris's voice softened, and he replied, “So now I can't say that I miss you?” There was a hint of playful defiance in his tone, as if he was challenging me to uphold the boundaries we had set. However, beneath the surface, I could sense the underlying desire to push those boundaries, yearning for something more.

I met his gaze, my voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and longing. “Well, you know where that always leads us, don't you?” The implications were clear, a reminder of the passionate encounters that had drawn us together in the past.

Chris's tone took on a seductive edge as he countered, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “What if I do? And what if I don't?” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down my spine. “What if I'm okay with things escalating once more?”

I shook my head, my voice tinged with surprise. “I would think you're insane,” I replied, a soft laugh escaping my lips. Chris rose from the stool, his movements deliberate as he made his way around the kitchen island.

With a captivating smile, he pressed against it, leaning closer to me. “You think so?” he echoed, his voice laced with a playful challenge. The proximity between us fueled the magnetic pull we felt, igniting a spark beneath my skin as I looked into his eyes, trying to read his intentions.

The tension continued to build as Chris leaned against the kitchen island, his presence both alluring and intoxicating. He continued with a low, seductive tone, “I think it might be worth re-exploring… wouldn't you say?” The suggestion hung in the air, daring me to reconsider our boundaries and delve once more into the passionate encounters we had shared.

I met his gaze, my voice tinged with a mix of frustration and desire. “You're insane if you think you can just up and leave without any explanation, and then expect me to be okay,” I replied, my voice wavering between anger and a longing for his touch. The tumultuous emotions swirling inside me mirrored the conflicted feelings that had been at the forefront of our tumultuous history.

Chris reached out, his fingers gently wrapping around my arm and pulling me in front of him. His back now faced the kitchen island, while I stood facing him, our bodies mere inches apart. He looked into my eyes, his voice filled with genuine remorse. “And I told you, I'm sorry Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with a vulnerability that was both reassuring and alluring. “I won't do that again.”

Chris's grip on my arm sent a jolt of electricity through my body, as if every fiber of my being yearned for his touch. His apology, laced with sincerity, melted my defenses, and I found myself drawn deeper into his magnetic pull. I knew there were risks associated with rekindling what we had, but in that moment, the longing in his eyes resonated with my own desires.

I swallowed, my voice filled with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. “I wish I could believe you, Chris,” I replied, my eyes never leaving his, searching for any hint of deception. “But how can I trust you not to leave again?” The lingering fear of abandonment lingered in my heart.

Chris's arms wrapped possessively around my waist, his head slowly descending toward my neck. The warmth of his body against mine stirred a whirlwind of emotions within me. As his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, a jolt of electricity surged through me, leaving me weak in the knees.

Chris's lips moved against my skin, whispering, “I promise you I won't, not when I have you back in my arms again, ma.” His words, filled with a mix of desperation and sincere affection, resonated deep within me. The use of the familiar term, ‘ma’ only added to the intensity of the moment, reigniting the flame that had been smoldering between us.

Chris's arms tightened possessively around my waist as he continued to shower my neck with gentle kisses. Each touch sent a shiver down my spine, intensifying the burning desire within me. “I've missed your smell, your taste,” he murmured, his voice filled with raw emotions.

Chris pulled away, his eyes holding a yearning look as he met mine.My hand traced a path from his chest to his neck, before weaving through his hair, a gentle caress to soothe his weariness. “You poor thing,” I murmured, my voice soft and filled with genuine concern. “Business got you so exhausted; I can see it in your eyes.”

My hand moved to his face, gently cupping his cheek. Chris leaned into my palm, his eyes closing for a brief moment as if savoring the warmth of my touch. “You've always been able to see right through me, ma,” he whispered, his voice filled with both vulnerability and affection.

The way he said ‘ma’ sent a shiver down my spine. It was a term of endearment that only he used, one that held a special place in our history together. The air between us grew charged with longing, and I could feel the walls that I had built up slowly crumbling.

I placed my hands on his chest, feeling the rhythmic beating of his heart, a steady reminder of his presence. Chris continued speaking, his voice laced with a mix of earnestness and vulnerability. “I messed up, Y/N,” he confessed, his eyes holding a mix of remorse and determination. “I've spent every day since then thinking about us, regretting my actions, and wishing I could be with you again.”

Chris's voice grew softer, a mix of vulnerability and yearning lacing his words. “I've been missing this, missing us, more than you can imagine,” he admitted. A wave of emotions washed over me as I caught a glimpse of the turmoil he had been going through. His vulnerability, so rare and precious, was like a tender offering, inviting me to bridge the gap between us.

Chris had never been one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, always maintaining a nonchalant air. But in this moment, as he poured out his feelings to me, I saw a side of him that I'd never experienced before. Softness and vulnerability glimmered in his eyes, as if he was finally revealing his true self. It was a rare and beautiful sight, one that tugged at my heartstrings and made me want to soothe his pain.

My voice, a soft whisper, broke the stillness in the room, “Kiss me,” I breathed, my eyes locked with Chris's in anticipation. He slowly leaned in, his lips grazing mine in a tantalizing dance before finally capturing them in a gentle and tender exchange.

Our kiss was an unspoken apology, a meeting of souls craving connection. Electric currents coursed through my body as we melded together in that moment, the world around us fading away, leaving only us and our shared desire.

Chris's arms tightened around me as we lost ourselves in the kiss, their embrace both possessive and comforting. Our bodies pressed together, igniting a fire within me that matched the passion in Chris's eyes. It was a moment of raw, unspoken emotions, a chance to let our guard down and simply be. There were no words needed; our entwined bodies and the yearning in our kiss said it all.

My hand slipped under his hoodie and t-shirt, desperate to feel his skin. My fingers traced the contours of his back, as if relearning the familiar landscape. It was as though we were rediscovering each other all over again, and in that moment, nothing else mattered except the sensation of being in each other's arms once more.

Our bodies connected in ways that words couldn't fully describe. The tension melted away, replaced by a renewed connection. Each brush of our skin was a wordless confession, a desperate plea for more. The kiss that began as a whisper grew into an urgent, hungry exchange. Time stood still as we lost ourselves in the intoxicating dance of desire that had kept us apart for far too long.

Our bodies moved in sync, a melody of longing that played out with each touch and breathless gasp. It was as if the time apart had only intensified our connection, our desire. I could feel the heat radiating from his body under my fingers, a reminder of the intensity of our union. The taste of his lips, the softness of his skin, it was all a testament to the depth of our longing for each other's touch.

My fingers trembled with a mix of anticipation and desire as I reached for the hem of Chris's black hoodie, eager to shed the barrier between us. Our lips parted briefly, a breathless moment in the whirlwind of our connection, as I tugged at the fabric, ready to strip him of any remnants of the past weeks apart.

Without a word, Chris understood my silent plea. He reached back, grasping the hem of his hoodie, and in one fluid motion, helped me remove it. The garment landed on the couch, a discarded symbol of the distance that had separated us. With renewed hunger, he dipped his head once more, claiming my lips in a passionate dance.

As my hands ventured towards his belt, reaching for what lay beneath it, Chris placed his hand on mine, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered, “Wait, Not yet.” A shiver ran down my spine as he picked me up with ease and planted me on the cool surface of the kitchen island, the heat between us threatening to consume us.

With a gentle urgency, Chris moved between my thighs, his body pressing close, the closeness igniting an ache within me. His fingers traced the curves of my body, each touch like a jolt of electricity, as he kissed me with a fervent hunger that mirrored my own.

Chris's eyes darkened with desire as he reached for the hem of my shirt, a silent request that I eagerly accepted. With a swift motion, he peeled the fabric from my skin, discarding it on the floor. The exposure of my bare skin only intensified the flames that flickered between us, pushing us closer to the edge.

With a heady desperation, Chris trailed his lips down my neck, leaving behind a trail of tender kisses on my collarbone. Each touch sent a shiver through my body, my skin tingling with anticipation. As he explored further, my hand instinctively reached for his hair, my fingers weaving through his locks, urging him ever closer.

The intoxicating combination of his kisses and the tender pressure of his teeth against my skin sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. My breath hitched as he ventured even lower, reaching the sensitive flesh of my chest, each kiss punctuated by a soft moan of approval from my lips.

I tightened my grip around his head, a silent plea for him not to stop. The intensity of our connection escalated with each passing moment, our bodies a fiery union in which we lost ourselves.

With a surge of desire, Chris's hands explored my back, seeking the clasp of my bra, eager to remove the last barrier between us. My breath hitched as I felt the fabric loosen, leaving me exposed in his arms. Our intimacy deepened, the layers of restraint peeled away, as we surrendered fully to the passion that bound us.

Chris's hands, greedy and gentle, reached up to cup my breasts. His thumbs brushed against the peaks, sending shivers through me. I arched my back, pushing myself more firmly into his touch, a silent plea for more.

Chris leaned down, his warm breath against my skin before his mouth closed around one nipple. I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair, gripping tightly as waves of pleasure washed over me. He suckled gently, his tongue swirling and teasing, driving me to the brink of madness.

Lost in the haze of desire, I couldn't help but tug his hair harder, desperate for him to keep sucking. The sensation was intoxicating, and I felt myself growing wetter by the second. Finally, Chris released my nipple with a pop, leaving it swollen and sensitive.

As I released his hair, he looked up at me, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded. “You're so perfect.” Then, he shifted his attention to my other breast, lavishing it with the same exquisite torture.

I was trembling, my body on fire, as Chris continued to worship my breasts. His hands roamed over my sides, his fingers digging into my skin as he held me in place. I felt his hot breath against my sensitive nipple.

Chris released my breast, his lips trailing kisses down my torso as his hands reached for the hem of my sweatpants. “Lift,” he murmured. I obeyed, lifting my hips off the cold, hard marble of the kitchen island.

He tugged the sweats down, along with my underwear, leaving me bare before him. The cool air hit my heated skin, making me shiver. Chris's gaze roamed over me appreciatively, taking in every inch of my body. “Spread your legs, baby,” he commanded softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I hesitantly spread my thighs, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze. He stepped closer, his hands gripping my knees and pushing my legs wider apart. “More,”

I complied, spreading my legs until I felt the cool air against my most intimate place. Chris's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of me, completely open and ready for him. “So beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Without another word, Chris dropped to his knees, his face inches from my dripping pussy. He looked up at me, his eyes locked on mine, before burying his face between my thighs. His tongue slid through my folds, licking up my juices and delving inside my pussy, fucking me with his tongue.

I gripped the edge of the countertop, my knuckles turning white as I braced myself against the intense sensation. Chris's hands gripped my thighs, holding them wide apart as he devoured me. His tongue was magic, dancing over my swollen nub and plunging back inside, over and over again.

“Chris...” I moaned, my head thrown back, my hips bucking against his face. “Please, more... Oh, God...” My words tumbled out, incoherent and desperate, as he continued to feast on me. “Right there... Please, don't stop...”

His fingers joined his mouth, sliding inside me as his tongue focused on my throbbing bud. The double stimulation was almost too much to bear. “I'm... I'm going to... Chris, I can't...” I panted, torn between the need to push him away and pull him closer.

He ignored my torn words, his fingers pumping in and out of me, his mouth sucking and licking. My legs began to shake, my whole body tensing as the waves of pleasure crested. “Chris!” I screamed, burying my fingers in his hair as I shattered against his mouth.

He gentled his touch, slowly licking and kissing my over-sensitive flesh as I came back down. I sagged against the counter, boneless and spent. Chris rose, his face glistening with my essence, and grinned wickedly at me. “You taste like heaven,” he said.

Chris swept me up into his arms, cradling me against his chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs wrapped around his waist as he carried me to my bedroom. The layout of my apartment was still etched in his memory, despite the weeks apart.

He set me down gently on my bed, my back sinking into the plush comforter. His hands reached for the hem of his black shirt, pulling it up and over his head to reveal his tone chest and abs.

I sat up, reaching for his belt buckle. My fingers fumbled with the strap, desperate to get it undone. Chris chuckled, his hands covering mine to guide me through the process. He was wearing his balenciaga belt, the one i liked the most on him.

With the belt unbuckled, I unbuttoned his black jeans, sliding the zipper down to reveal the waistband of his boxers. I looked up at him, biting my lip, and he nodded, telling me to continue.

I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his jeans and boxers, slowly pulling them down over his hips. His hard length sprang free, bobbing against his stomach. I wrapped my hand around his shaft, pumping slowly as I leaned forward to kiss the tip.

Chris's hands tangled in my hair as I took him into my mouth, his hips jerking forward instinctively. I swirled my tongue around the head, tasting the precum leaking from the slit, before taking him deeper, gagging slightly as he hit the back of my throat.

Chris's grip on my hair tightened, his breathing growing faster as I continued to work my mouth on him. He let me set the pace, his hips bucking forward occasionally as the sensation became too much. His abs tensed and relaxed with each breath, his whole body focused on the pleasure I was giving him.

“Fuck, ma...” he moaned, his voice ragged and unsteady. “Your mouth feels so good...” His hips moved in time with my bobbing head, his length sliding in and out of my mouth.

I hummed around him, smiling as he groaned, his fingers tightening in my hair. I could feel his body tensing, his release drawing near. “Y/N...” he panted, his warning coming out as a hoarse whisper. “I’m... I'm gonna... ma...”

I pulled back, my hand continuing to pump him as his release came. His head fell back, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he found his release. His hot, salty essence spilled over my hand and onto my chest.

I brought my hand to my mouth, licking off his release before cleaning up the mess on my chest. Chris watched me with heavy-lidded eyes before reaching down to tilt my chin up. “I've missed your lips so much,” he said, his thumb wiping away any remnant from my mouth.

He pulled me up into a kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth to taste himself on my lips. I melted into the kiss, my arms wrapping around his neck as I returned it with equal fervor.

Chris slowly lowered us both onto the bed, his arms wrapping around me as he settled on top of me, our lips still locked. He hovered over me, his hands gripping my wrists and pinning them above my head.

Chris began to kiss and nibble his way down my neck, marking me with his love bites. He was gentle but firm, his teeth sinking into my skin as he left his claiming marks. I could feel the heat building between my legs as he continued to worship my body. “Chris…”

“Tell me what you want, ma,” he whispered against my neck, his voice low and sultry. His hands tightened around my wrists, his body heavy on mine. I could feel his hardness pressing against my thigh, a reminder of what was yet to come. “Please...”

“Please what, ma?” he prompted, his lips trailing down to my collarbone. “Tell me what you need.” His voice was a dark temptation, coaxing the words from my lips. “Please... I need you” I whispered, my cheeks flushing with heat.

Chris slowly released his hold on my wrists, his hands trailing down my arms, my sides, my hips, before finally settling on my thighs. He gently spread my legs, his touch feather-light as he began to explore my body. “Where do you need me, ma?”

“Chris... please... I need you inside me. Now.” I demanded, my voice breathy with desire. He growled in approval, his hands gripping my hips as he aligned himself with my entrance. “Look at me, baby,” he ordered, his voice low.

I lifted my head, meeting his gaze as he entered me in one smooth thrust. I gasped at the sensation, my back arching off the bed as he filled me completely. “Fuck,” he cursed, his hands gripping my hips tightly. “So fucking tight, ma.” He groaned, lowering his head and burying his face in the crook of my neck as he began to move within me. “Wrap your legs around me, baby.”

I complied, wrapping my legs around his waist as he slowly increased his pace. The new angle allowed him to bury himself deeper inside me, the sensation bordering on pain. I scored my nails down his back, pulling him closer as he began to thrust harder, his breath coming in short pants against my neck.

Chris's grip on my hips tightened, his fingers digging into my flesh as he pounded into me. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, accompanied by our heavy breathing. “You feel so good, ma... I could fuck you forever,” he growled, his voice strained with effort.

“Fuck, Chris. Please... harder,” I whimpered, my body tensing as he hit that sweet spot inside me. He let out a guttural groan, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into me with enough force to shake the bed.

“God, I missed you so much,” Chris panted, his voice laced with emotion. His movements became more urgent, his hips snapping forward as he buried himself to the hilt inside me. “The way you wrap around me... the little sounds you make...”

“It's driving me crazy, ma. I can't hold back much longer...” His voice trailed off as he lowered his head and sealed his mouth to mine, swallowing my cries as he continued to thrust into me with unbridled passion.

Chris's usually rough and demanding demeanor was replaced with a tender, gentle touch. He held me close, his arms wrapping around me like a vice as he made love to me instead of fucking me. His careful, deliberate movements stirred something deep within me, and I felt tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.

I missed this, I missed him. I missed the feel of his arms around me, the way his calloused hands caressed my body. The weeks of silence had been agonizing, each day stretching into an eternity as I yearned for his touch.

“Chris... oh god, Fuck,” I moaned, my fingers clutching at his back as he continued to slowly thrust in and out of me. The gentle pace was torture, each movement drawing out the sensation and ratcheting up the tension in my core.

“I'm so close, Chris... please...” I begged, my body trembling as I teetered on the edge of release. Chris's breath grew ragged, his hips moving faster as he chased his own orgasm. “Stay with me, baby,” he grunted, his fingers tightening around my waist.

Chris sealed his mouth to mine, his kiss passionate and demanding. Our tongues danced together as our movements grew more urgent, our bodies climbing towards the peak of passion. I could feel his muscles tensing, his breath hitching, and I knew we were both close.

We parted our lips, panting against each other's faces as we neared the breaking point. Chris hovered over me, his arms braced on either side of my head, his eyes locked onto mine. I leaned up, pressing my lips to his neck, sucking and kissing his skin as he finally let go.

Chris let out a low, guttural moan, his body stiffening as he found his release. He leaned his forehead against mine, his breath coming in short, hot pants as he spilled into me. “Fuck! oh god, ma...” His voice was raw with emotion.

I felt my own orgasm wash over me, my vision blurring as I cried out in ecstasy. My inner walls clenched around Chris, milking his cock for every drop of his release. We stayed like that for a long moment, our foreheads pressed together, our hearts pounding in unison

Chris opened his eyes, his dark irises meeting my gaze as we both caught our breath. He brushed his lips against mine in a gentle kiss.

“You were amazing, like always,” Chris murmured, his voice soft and reverent. He nuzzled against my neck, his arms wrapping around me possessively.

Chris slowly pulled out of me, his face flushing slightly as the evidence of our passion spilled onto the sheets. He reached for the blanket folded at the corner of the bed and pulled it over us, tucking me against his side.

I looked up at Chris, my eyes meeting his as he looked down at me. “I'm so glad you're back,” I murmured, my voice barely a whisper. “Promise me you'll stay, Chris.” His expression softened, his hand pausing on my back. “I promise”

Chris leaned down, pressing his lips gently to mine in a soft, lingering kiss. He broke away, his hand coming up to cup my cheek tenderly. “I'm not going anywhere,” he whispered. “I'm exactly where I want to be.”

[pythoness94]

Okay, so, I was talking with an IRL friend earlier and we were talking about our autism and it's weird fucking traits. For example, me being unable to stand the texture or smell of black jeans so i have to wear really loose big one that i roll the pants leg up off. Or for them, being unable to stand the feeling of hair on their face and sometimes being hyper aware of it on their scalp. So, while we were talking, I was thinking Mike Wheeler...

One thing that really stuck out to me was how we view our heart beats. I've had a lot of near death experiences and I like feeling my heart. I like that feeling of my heart in my throat, i like hearing it in my ears, I absently check my pulse during conversation or if i'm feeling anxious. If i can't go to sleep at night, i roll on my stomach and feel my heart in my chest and lower throat. I like to feel it. My friend, however, is actively sickened by it. They cannot stand the feeling of it; they basically get the ick by it and don't like touching their wrist period. And imagine this with Mike and Will.

I might be projecting but I've almost drowned on multiple occasions and have fallen from heights, (Not quarry heights but enough to make me scared of falling, drowning, and hospitals. Remember those near-death experiences, they're no demodogs but still.) So, imagine Mike being comforted by his and Will's hearts. Imagine Mike feeling his pulse whenever he can to make sure he's still ALIVE. That all those near deaths didn't matter, that he survived. A Demogorgon chases them and once they get away, Mike's fingers aren't only on his wrist but whoever was with them. he's looking at their chests to make sure they're breathing. Checking to see if they're blood still pumping and their cheeks are rosy. Imagine that Mike loves the feeling of adrenaline in his veins because it means he's breathing, he's still here. He is desperate to remember his life

However, imagine Will being sickened by it. Imagine Will, who was forced to listen to his own heartbeat on the monitor while mind flayed, being unable to stand the feeling of his own heart. That when he feels his heart in his throat, he can only think of coughing up that slug. That when fingers on are his wrist he pulls his wrist away because it makes him think of doctors and people prodding at him like he's just science to them now. When he feels the adrenaline in his veins he hates it because it makes him think of his time in the upside down. Then after Vecna strangles him, he can't stand anything near his neck because of it, much less hands. Will would be content to ignore that he had a heart at all honestly.

Now imagine Mike keeps reaching for Will's wrist to check if he's alive, he keeps going for the neck, or trying to put a hand on Will's chest. Then Will goes to snap at him in irritation only to see pure panic and teary eyes on Mike's face because Mike needs to know if Will is real or not. He needs to know if this is happening or if it's vecna and why isn't Will letting him? Was it something he did? did he mess up again? he thought they were good! And Will puts everything aside for a moment, just so Mike can make sure. Then for the first time in awhile, Will doesn't mind the hands on his wrist. His body warms like he's standing in front of a fire on a winters day as Mike's body heat soaks into his skin. he thinks, 'hey, maybe it's not so bad." So from then on, Will hands his wrist to Mike automatically, but keeps pulling it away from anyone else. It would be...so cool!

[shshshshshowrunner]

[post invisible to xigbar]

think i might actually be starting to believe it. about places and concepts i mean

[ohifonlyx33]

i just think kdrama watchers are probably best equipped to understand the type of character Malyen Oretsev was written to be in the books. send tweet

[eupheme]

— come on and show me

[part ii | part iii | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 5.5k

tags: Logan POV, MMF threesome, jealous!logan, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, voyeurism, dirty talk, open relationship, oral sex, fingering, Logan doms both of them, 69ing, fucklicking, ball worship, come eating, PiV

a/n: I want them to kiss and I also want them to kiss reader to here this is! 💕

Right now, all he can hear is Wade running his goddamn mouth. Drowning out the sounds you make - so fuckin’ pretty, and the prick is too busy listening to himself to appreciate it.

There’s one thing that Logan knows for sure - and it’s that Wade’s not doing it right. Not like he would.

(or - Logan tries to shut Wade up, and it doesn’t quite go as expected)

Logan can hear Wade from here.

Running that goddamn mouth already, and the sun’s only barely up.

Can hear you, too. The little whimpers that you try bite back. He can imagine the way your teeth sink into your lip - the thought has him shifting in his chair, breakfast forgotten.

So fuckin’ pretty, and the prick is too busy listening to himself to appreciate it.

Knows he could make you even louder, too. It’s almost like he’s at the mansion again, looking at another toy he can’t touch.

What a waste.

The sounds crescendo, the chanting of a name layered with that endless babble that makes his teeth grind, before the sound breaks.

Trying not to look interested when the door opens a few minutes later. Snatching up the newspaper that’s been sitting on the cluttered tabletop for a month now, flicking it open.

Ignoring how Wade strolls out, adjusting the waistband on a pair of grey sweats that are hanging way too low on his hips for comfort.

Rummaging around for a bottle of water, the glow of the fridge illuminating the curve of his ass. The cut of the pants look familiar, Logan's eyes narrowing as he wonders if those are his missing pair-

The edge of the paper flicking up again into place again, just as Wade stretches - bending further, before the bottle is snatched from the back.

Logan huffs.

“Hey roomie,” Wade hums, flicking the cap at him. It sails through the air, disappearing into his forgotten cup of coffee with a little 'plunk', “Don’t let me interrupt that killer Ed Tom Bell impression you’ve got going on, just hydrating for round two.”

“Ooh,” A cock of his hip, as he turns - head tilting as he thinks, “Does that make me Josh Brolin? God, I love him.”

“That’s all?” Logan’s eyebrows lift as he sneers - ignoring another reference he doesn’t understand, “Been going at it for a while.”

As soon as he says it, he regrets it. Opening himself up for an attack. He can already hear the sing-song response at the admittance that he’s been listening.

Screwing the Pavlovian pooch, with the way that he's more than aware that his dick’s half-hard. The result of taking care of himself one too many times - an attempt at getting himself back to sleep, pretending that he isn’t jerking himself off to the beat of the frame that bangs against the walls.

Luckily, Wade zeros in on the exact wrong part. Sputtering, as water drips down his chin, “That’s all? What do you mean, that’s all?”

“You heard me,” The paper crinkles in his fist, “In fact, I’m surprised you even got round one off. Much less that she’s sticking around for another.”

“You wound me, and yet, flatter.” Wade’s hand flattens over his heart, “I never knew you thought about me like that.”

“I haven’t been thinking about you, you ass,” Logan snarls, teeth bared, “I just know that if you’re talking, then you’re not doing it right.”

Wade grins at that, teeth scraping over his lower lip as they stretch wide.

Eyes flicking over his form, assessing in a way that has Logan bristling - voice going syrupy-smooth, “Is that right? You think you can do better, mutton chops?”

The breath he inhales is ragged. That feeling back again - an urge to curl his hand around Wade’s throat, and squeeze.

“Yeah,” Logan growls out, “Yeah, I fucking do.”

The table shakes as Wade plops himself down on the edge, a leg crossing over the other. Interest gleaming in his eyes as his head tilts towards the bedroom door.

“Alright. Bring on the magic tricks, Angier.” His hands splay wide, wiggling, “Gonna show me how to make your fingers disappear?”

Logan glares, his eyes flicking down to where the fleece pulls across his hips.

“Right.” He spits, “Like you’ve got another in you?”

“Hey now, pookums. Marvel Jesus, remember?” Wade’s hand makes a sweeping gesture in front of his crotch, “Just give me three minutes and I’ll have risen.”

“That’s disgusting.” Logan barks, “And get off the table.”

If anything, it makes Wade sit harder. His legs pivoting until he can spread his thighs on either side of the paper, ankles dangling off the edge.

“Disgusting?” His tone pitches up, “Says the man that’s rocking a stiffy. Gonna jerk it at the breakfast table when I leave? You know Blind Al eats there.”

The paper twitches reflexivity in his hands, and Wade’s smile pulls wider as Logan shoots him a death glare, lips curling over teeth.

“Why the fuck would I do something like that?”

Wade hums, “Call it an educated wish.”

“Call it an educated get-the-fuck-out-of-here.” Logan scoffs. His eyes flicking towards the bedroom, the door still shut, “You’re talking like she wants this.”

Wade’s finger presses at the edge of the newspaper he’s hiding behind, and Logan bats his hand away.

He’s still not gotten used to all the skin, he doesn’t know where to look. The slightest shift back in his chair, but he’s already pressed up against the wall.

“Oh please, as if we don’t take turns roleplaying as you,” Wade sighs longingly, “This would be a wet dream come true.”

His eyes narrow then, as his tongue runs across his lip. Voice dropping again, coaxing.

“Look,” Wade says it like he’s leveling with him - talking man-to-man,“If you wanted to fuck her, peanut, all you had to do was ask.”

And for a moment, Logan truly considers it. Not just the fantasy that’s been playing through his head for weeks.

Weirder shit has happened, he supposed.

He’s already been claw-deep into Wade’s guts. A brawl in that shitty van that lasted until morning. Bound tip-to-tip in the void for god knows how long.

Getting walked in on in the bathroom at least twice in the last month. A gleeful “mind if I cut in?”, before Logan’s fist is sending him into the vanity.

The last time it took a full week to get the sink fixed.

Not to mention that Wade apparently seems so certain that his clothes were now their clothes.

So fucking keen on sharing.

So it wasn’t a stretch to think he might want to share you, too.

There’s something caught between his teeth, heavy on his tongue. About to loosen, when the door is opening.

Swallowing them down as you step through, thighs bare under a too-big t-shirt. Arms wrapping around Wade’s shoulders as your lips press against his cheek.

“Thought you were coming back, Red.” You coo. Drawn out by the sound of bickering as you had basked in your afterglow.

“Morning, Logan.” A smile sent his way after, turning sheepish, “You’re up early. Hope we didn’t wake you.”

He grunts in reply. Pretending there wasn’t a little jolt in his stomach at the sound of his name. That he hadn’t been thinking about spreading you across this table, lifting the hem of your shirt up-

If he’d been in your bed, no one would have had to wonder.

The whole damn floor would’ve been woken up.

“He thinks I fuck bad, so I’m gonna prove he’s wrong,” Wade adds in, cheerfully, “That okay with you, gorgeous?”

Logan glares over the top of his paper. A rough clearing in his throat as your eyebrows lift, glancing his way.

He hadn’t really meant to bring you into this, or at least, that’s what he’s telling himself.

That eye contact dropping, as you lean into Wade, your chin propped on his shoulder, “Is that right? How are you going to do that?”

Logan’s answer comes out flat, as he examines an ad in the bottom corner of the page,“I’m not doing anything.”

Wade sighs, his head knocking back against your shoulder.

“Come on, Wolvie. I would love for you to prove me wrong,” He needles, digging deep, “Put your money where my cock should be.”

Logan still doesn’t look up, “Not interested, I’m busy.”

The sigh that pulls from his lungs is long, a near-whine.

“What, with reading?” He exclaims, “Jesus you really are old. The retirement home called, they’re missing a resident.”

Logan’s eyes snap up now, narrowing, “Fuck. Off.”

With a sigh, Wade fucks off. Legs curling, until he’s rolling off the table. Your hand fitting in his, a water bottle tucked under your arm as you head back towards the room.

“The offer still stands!” He calls.

A beat, before you turn.

“Logan?” You call, as he’s helpless - his eyes pulling away. Drawn to you.

A little wink sent his way. Your finger gesturing towards his chest, as you smile.

“Your paper’s upside down.”

Logan’s still not quite sure how he got here. His feet moving on his own, fingers catching the bedroom door just as it starts to close.

Almost backing out when he sees the look of Wade’s face, pleased as fucking punch.

Standing by the edge of the bed now, as you kneel on it in front of him. Fingers slipping across his chest - curious, with the way your eyes flicker over his face. Eager, though you hide it well.

“So what exactly did you tell Wade to get him so worked up?” Your fingers twine around his neck, as his find your hips.

He hums at that - flicking towards his roommate before they find yours again.

“All I said was that if I can hear his mouth running from out there,” Logan’s fingers dent into soft skin, tugging you closer, “He can’t be doing a good job.”

There’s a shift off to the side. Wade sinking down into the beanbag chair he pulled up,“Can you believe that? As if I don’t have a good grade in my oral and my dickabilties.”

“A gold star, babe.” You shoot him a tender smile, before they focus on Logan again. Shoulder lifting, as your grin grows, “I mean, Merc with a Mouth, right? Seems like part of the package.”

He huffs, eyes dropping to your lips.

“You think it’s good,” Logan’s tone is almost pitying, “But it’s only because you haven’t had better.”

That pulls a gasp from your throat, eyebrows lifting.

“Yeah, I think you’re trying to emasculate me, but honestly…” Wade’s hand splays wide over his crotch, “Sploosh.”

“Sploosh.” You echo softly, and he can feel you shift closer. Can smell the fresh curl of arousal that heats your skin, as his hands ghost higher. A small smile, as your head tilts, “So you just all talk then, or…”

“No.” Logan scoffs, “No, I’m not.”

He closes the gap, more certain now. Mouth pressing against yours, as you squeak - tense in his arms, until you go liquid.

Soft tits pressed to his chest as his tongue sweeps against your lips. Swallowing a pretty moan as they part for him, his own groan rumbling in his chest as his hands wander.

Slipping down, ghosting against skin. Feeling the goosebumps that rise, as he draws circles against your hip. His name whimpered, and it shoots straight to his cock.

Not even a heartbeat, before the chatter begins.

“Bet your pussy’s wet already, isn’t it baby?” He coos, “A kiss like that, it’s even got me a little worked up. And I’m just producing this show.”

Logan’s eyes crack open as he glares, “You’re not producing shit, asshole.”

“Ooh, I bet you SO wish you worded that in a different way-”

You huff against his mouth, your touch guiding him back. The thought lingers, curiosity burning. Letting his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, knuckles brushing your thigh.

Tracing around to the curve of your ass, his wide palm splaying out, then squeezing against bare flesh.

“Is he right?” He rasps, his lips brushing against yours. Half-hating that he’s letting Wade get in his head, but the thought-

You gasp again, and his teeth flash with his smirk, “Are you wet for me already, sweetheart?”

“She’s been since she first saw you. Goddamn Niagara Falls,” Wade’s voice has softened - teasing now, “Isn’t that right, gorgeous?”

An amused shake of your head, as something silent passes between them. Logan doesn’t pretend to know how your relationship works - other than the fact that Wade was willing to do anything to save this world for you.

And that there’s something inside him that tightens - a flicker in his belly - whenever he looks at you. Whenever Wade flirts with him. That sharp annoyance from their meeting slowly bleeding out with each day goes by.

Something else taking root, the more time he spends with both of you. He’s not good with his emotions. Doesn’t want to name that ache when he saw you together.

A silent wish, with his shifting daydreams. With the jerk of his fist in the morning. Imaging you in his bed, at first. And then, more - two sets of hands. Two mouths at his cock, and then he’s suddenly coming harder than he has before.

He’s become greedy, the more you both give him.

“Show me.” It’s a command, soft and low.

Logan can feel your thighs press together, that little squirm. Tucking this new discovery away as you lean back, eyes dark with desire.

The briefest hesitance, before your fingers loosen from him. Slipping down, under the hem of your shirt. The nails on your other hand bite into his shoulder as you sigh - two fingers gliding through the wet folds of your pussy.

Pulling them back for him to see. Glistening, your arousal stringing between them. His hand is already curling around your wrist. No resistance as he tugs - guiding your fingers past his lips as they part.

Sucking the sweet taste of you as he groans, deep in his chest. Eyes fixed on yours so he can see the way yours widen, feeling how your fingers flex against the swipe of his tongue.

“Logan.” You sigh his name, and it only makes his moan - eyes shutting as you press down against his tongue. The need slipping into your voice, pleading.

“I wanna feel your mouth. Show me, too,” You sigh, as you slip from him, “Show me what you meant.”

Christ, he’s been aching for this. Eager to drown himself in your pussy, if you’d let him.

There’s a sharp clap that forces his eyes open. Wade’s enthusiasm as he drags the bag closer, chin cradled in his hands.

“Yeah, Logan. You gonna show us your dickabilites, or what?”

He shoots him a withering look. Softening before he turns to you, his chin tipping up.

“Lay back on the bed for me, sweetheart.”

You listen so sweetly, and it makes his cock throb. A quick dart of your eyes over to your boyfriend, who only nods.

“Take that off, baby,” Wade coos, “Show him how pretty you are.”

He’s not sure when he started letting Wade make orders, but for once he’s not wanting to argue about his suggestions.

Because fuck, you are pretty. No arguing with that.

Letting his eyes sweep over every inch that is revealed, as you lift the hem of your shirt. The curve of your hips, your soft tits that he can’t wait to get his mouth on.

Baring yourself, as you lean back against the pillows. His eyes are fixed on your cunt, already fitting himself between your thighs. Fingers reaching - ready to part you open. Taste you himself, bury his tongue inside you.

Your hand reaches out, pushing against his shoulder.

“Wait, you too.” You pout, “Let’s play fair, okay?”

He huffs, lips quirking. Hands catching the hem as he tugs his own shirt off, Wade diving for it as he tossed it towards the floor.

Twin gasps rise, and if he was a much younger man, he may have blushed.

“Fuck.” Wade groans, a hand dropping down his crotch and squeezing.

You’re already leaning forward, a hand flattening against his skin. A soft "wow" slipping from your lips - feeling the way his muscles jump as you slide over his pecs, the thick hair covering them.

A hand hooking around his shoulder - a smirk hidden as you tug him down on top of you.

Soft, beneath him. Those needy whines he loves so much caught between your teeth as he noses at your neck. Teeth nipping at skin, an urge to leave a mark for later.

That cry finally loosened as he moves down. Teeth and tongue biting and soothing at the tight peaks of your nipples. Broad hands cupping and squeezing, liking the way they fit in his palms. The way you moan, arching into his touch.

“Give me more of that,” He murmurs against your skin, "I want to hear you."

Your body tensing beneath his when he settles between your thighs. They have to spread, to fit his shoulders. Opening you up, putting you on display.

Watching how you clench - a throaty chuckle as his thumb presses just shy of your folds. Tugging you open, seeing how your skin glistens with slick already.

“Pretty fucking sight, you know that?” His eyes flip up to yours.

You’re propped up on your elbows. Teeth sinking into your lip, breath held as your eyebrows slant in anticipation. Lips parting with his words, a minute shift of your hips.

“You should see it when it’s stuffed full. Boston cream's got nothing on her."

There’s an embarrassed groan of his name. Logan ignores him - letting his thumb rub against the tight nub of your clit, instead. Your word turning into a sharp, inhaled breath.

Teasing, each circle achingly slow. Aware of the two sets of eyes on him, burning his skin. A low ache in his belly, his glaze fixing on yours, watching as you inhale as his mouth lowers.

A soft lick, tongue lapping against your slit. Tasting you more thoroughly, dragging against soaked skin, as his fingers tease at your entrance.

Focusing on your clit, tight flicks with his tongue. Letting his lips suck on the tight bud, as he sinks down to one knuckle, then another. A second finger slipping in once you get used to him, making room for himself as he scissors you open.

He can hear the soft, wet sound of your cunt, with each plunge of his fingers. Flexing and curling them until he can feel you clamp down.

The quiet sounds you make - soft breaths and gasps - turning louder. Panting now, as you whine. Hips lifting to meet the curl of his tongue, until he pulls back.

“Should be hearing this,” Logan grits out. A quick glance towards Wade as his fingers pound into you, “Not you talking out of your ass.”

There’s silence for a long moment, the words coming out distracted.

“You talk about my ass an awful lot for a man who pretends he's not interested,” Wade manages, slowly, “You change your mind about that, too?”

His breath shallow, as Logan growls in annoyance. Attention returning back to you. Fingers working faster, head dropping again to tongue at your clit.

A leg hooks over his shoulder - a heel digging into his back, tugging him closer. Logan loses himself - growling into your pussy. His own hips pressing down into the bed, as he tugs at his belt and button, relieving the too-tight ache of denim.

Feeling how you leak against his palm, tighten around his fingers. Chase that winding pleasure as you arch into his mouth. A hand drifting off the bed, reaching. Grasping.

“Logan.” You’re begging again, pleading. For more, for anything. For him not to stop, and he leans into the way you tug at his hair, guiding him to the right spot.

You come with your fingers entwined with Wade’s. With your thighs clamped against Logan's ears as he rips a cry from you - long and loud - threatening to suffocate him.

Would be the way he’d choose to die, if he could.

The sounds come flooding back, as your thighs loosen. Boneless and languid, your smile wide as your fingers trace his scruff, the sharp curve of his jaw.

Perhaps he was wrong, to think he could silence Wade entirely. Your orgasm has only made him more vocal - complaints about how “fucking hard he is” mixing with rambling praise.

“Wilson.” He finds himself growling. Beckoning with two fingers, as Wade practically springs from the bag.

“Oh my GOD,” Wade is gushing, clambering onto the bed with him, “This is way better than joining the Avengers. Even if they do have Thor.”

“Huge praise.” You smile drunkenly, pushing yourself up to press your mouth against his.

And under his direct instructions, Logan finds that Wade almost listens.

“Get on your back,” He points, as you scooch to make room.

"Ooh, dirty." Wade grins, splaying out on his back, hands tucked under his head.

“No,” Logan makes a frustrated sound - ignoring another comment. A twirl of his finger, “The other way.”

His head is cradled near your hips now, legs stretched out toward the pillows.

Logan’s next words are a growl, “Now, clean her up.”

Wade groans, as he catches up.

“Fuck.” He whines, “Yeah. Come here, baby.”

Hands guiding you into place, your knees framing his head, as you face towards the headboard. Wade’s mouth already tipping up to meet you, a soft moan as his tongue swipes against your slit.

“I don’t want to hear you until she comes.” Logan rasps, and he can see the way Wade’s hips lift.

Just now catching the darkened fabric, where it tents.

Another thing to catalog.

Content for now to let his hands drift as he stands behind you at the edge of the bed, his chest pressing to your back. Sucking a mark in the hollow under your ear, feeling the buzz of your whine against his lips.

Hands cupping your breasts again, feeling their weight. Pinching at the tight peaks, before his thumb is smoothing over them.

Your eyes are blown wide, fingers curling against your thighs. Panting as the overstimulation tips towards pleasure, the feel of the sweet mouth below you soft and familiar.

Shifting as you sit, rocking back to where Logan’s cock presses against your lower back. His hands tugging at the zipper, shoving his jeans down as he works himself free. Kicking them off, after.

You gasp when you see him from over your shoulder, and he can’t help the way he twitches in his hand at the sound. Can’t pretend he isn’t leaking from tasting you, his cock heavy as he lets go to let it hang between his thighs.

“Fuck, that’s not fair.” It’s muffled, and you hum in agreement as Wade lifts you to get a better look, “God didn’t make you perfect enough as-is? Just had to make you proportional, you goddamn stallion.”

A derisive sound as his arm wiggles out from under you, fingers reaching.

“And Jesus H. Christ, look at the girth-”

Logan bats his hand away.

It should annoy him. That Wade isn’t listening. That he’s commenting on his cock - but it doesn’t.

Can’t help but think that in here, in this room, the chatter isn’t so bad. Would never admit that he’s wrong, just that when he’s admiring and not on a dumb-as-fuck tangent, it’s almost - flattering.

Maybe that’s too far. Tolerable, perhaps.

“You want my mouth?” You offer sweetly, breaking into his thoughts. Hungrily.

There’s a flash of white teeth as Logan smiles. A hand pressing gently against your back, until you’re stretched out over Wade.

“No. I’m still gonna fuck you, baby.” He rasps, “Just wanted a little peace and quiet while doing it.”

You moan, thighs inching wider. Head turned so you can watch the way he moves behind you. Adjusting your hips until your ass is in the air, his fingers gripping the base of his cock as he lines himself up.

“Keep going, Wilson.” He grits out, when the man goes still beneath them.

A rough chuckle rattles.

“Not a fucking chance, human tripod. I am SO watching this.”

Fuck it. He lets him.

Letting the tip of his cock press against your entrance. Wade’s arms curling around your thighs, holding you in place as you string tight above him.

“God, it’s even bigger from this angle. Feels like I’m in a goddamn eclipse right now.”

“Why do you sound surprised, babe?” Your voice is strained. Face buried against Wade’s stomach, fingers curled in the sheets, “I thought you guys fucked in the void.”

That fleeting curl of warmth leaves him.

“We what?” Logan growls, leaning back to glare at the peek of dark brown eyes, the top of a bald head he wants to slap.

Teeth bared, as he snarls, “We didn’t fuck. I beat the shit out of him in a goddamn van.”

“All night long.” Wade laughs - and then sighs fondly, “And isn’t that just the same thing?”

Fingers encircle his cock from below before he can retort, squeezing. A tug as he guides him into the tight clench of your pussy, and Logan thinks he really should just shove his claws into Wade’s dick.

But that desire bleeds away, as you stretch around him. The twin groans from beneath him, the sounds blending together.

“Oh,” You moan, clenching around him. Back arching, as he slips in another inch, “Makes sense. Was… was just wondering why it took you so long to join us.”

Logan goes still for a moment, with this new information. A realization that he could have had this the whole time, if he had asked.

That Wade hadn’t been joking before.

He groans, hips snapping forward. A grunt below as your knees squeeze against Wade’s throat, but from the way you squirm, Logan can tell that his mouth is at work again.

Teasing at your clit, as his own hips slowly start to move. Feet planting on the bedroom floor as his hands fit against your waist.

Using the leverage to drive himself deep. Hips flush as his balls slap against your skin, growing sticky with your release.

“This is hot, this is so fucking hot,” Wade groans, babbling as he sucks in a breath, “I’m so going to jerk my dick raw thinking about this later.”

And with the reminder, he supposes he can throw his roommate a bone.

“Come on, baby,” Logan rasps - reaching. A little nudge against your chin, angling your head, “Looks like he needs a little help.”

It’s benevolent. It’s selfish - his fingers biting into skin as you realize what he means. Watching as you tug at the waistband of Wade’s sweatpants, pushing them down.

The man moans, from between your thighs. Sweet nothings mumbled as your hand wraps around his cock, angling it into your waiting mouth.

Watching how the leaking tip presses into your cheek. The buck of his hips as you fist moves, while you suck - your spit slicking up his cock.

It looks like the rest of him. Mottled skin, the tip flushed a deeper shade of red. Long and thick in your hand - Logan’s cock throbbing at the way you swallow him down, how your lips part to make him fit.

His pace picking up. Pounding into your tight, wet cunt as Wade groans against your clit. Tongue lapping and licking, winding you higher as Logan drives you towards a second.

Slowly drifting, as the flicks of his tongue grow longer. The tip pressing against your folds, as you groan around his cock.

Further down. Tasting the tang of your release - the salt of skin where you’re split open, stretched wide.

And then further. Logan jerks, as something wet drags along his shaft.

“Wade.” It comes out as a rough growl. Pitching into a huffing whine when it happens again, flattening against the heavy weight of his balls.

Choking him, as his rhythm stutters. Hips flexing into you as he grinds himself flush, teeth gritting.

“Fuck.” It’s hushed, pulled from his lungs.

Having to find himself again - hold back the urge to come right that second - as you squirm beneath him. Wade’s tongue traveling from your clit to the tight seam of his sack, his hips rocking in your mouth.

Finding a rhythm together, Logan’s head tilting back. The room filled with lewd sounds of their joining, of wet mouths and the rhythmic pounding of the headboard against the wall.

Lucky that Al was out for the morning, or else they’d never hear the end of it.

Your cries pitch up, as his cock drags against the spot his fingers found. Something clenching deep in his guts, eyes dragging down to how you look wrapped around him. The pink peek of tongue beneath, how the combination makes his toes curl.

Imagining another morning. Sharing you in another way, his cock buried in your ass while your lover fills your cunt. Whimpering between them, unable to form words.

The sound you make now are not that different - the cadence of your panting is one he’s coming to recognize.

“You close, sweetheart?” He rasps, arcing over you, “Can feel your pussy clenching around me. So fucking tight, can’t wait to feel you come all over my cock.”

It pulls a moan from you, head lifting from Wade’s cock. Resting against his stomach, as your hand wraps around him. The jerk of your fist messy, off rhythm.

“Yeah, you are.” Logan hums, as his hips rut into you, “Come on, Wilson. Make our girl come.”

There’s a rough groan. Wade listens for once, head tilting to suck at your clit. Logan concentrating on the angle that makes you cry out, a hand fisting in the sheets.

Their names a mumbled mess on your lips, as you’re yanked higher and higher. Your moans pitching up, growing louder.

Just like his dreams. Even better, really.

“Please,” You whine, “I’m, I’m-”

A high-pitched gasp, then, as your face buries against Wade’s hips. As your pussy clamps down around his cock, fluttering with the steady saw of his hips.

“Good fucking girl.” The praise is soft, as his thumbs rub circles against your skin, “That’s it, let him taste how sweet you are.”

Working together, the tight licks against your clit going lazy again. Dipping to your entrance to taste your release against his shaft, Wade’s cock leaking and bobbing against his stomach.

Drawing out your pleasure, until the stars fade from your half-lidded eyes. Until the rushing in your veins ebb, and the pulse around his cock fades.

A low sigh, before Logan’s reaching - his chin tucking against your shoulder. His hand curling around yours, guiding it back to Wade's cock.

“Don’t forget about him.” Another command, but gentle this time. His hand moving with yours, palm mapping your knuckles as he sets a rhythm, “There you go.”

He could let go. You’ve found yourself again, eyes hazy. But he keeps his hand there. Keeps a pace that is so much firmer than your own, his own hips matching the rhythm as he chases his own end.

Wade’s groan replaces yours. A hand leaving your thigh to wrap around his, biting down hard into muscle. It only drives him deeper into you. Logan’s own moan bitten back as the tongue against his dick slips against his sack again.

Then against the thin layer of skin just behind, teasing.

“Fuck.” It’s a rough growl.

His hand works faster, teeth gritting. Feral sounds caught in his throat, as the pressure in his belly grows.

The last thing he sees before he comes is the drips of white against his knuckles. The warmth, a ragged groan against the inside of his thigh. Your mouth closing around to catch the rest, taking Wade’s cock into your throat with a soft sigh.

It robs him of his breath. A shuddering moan, as he grinds himself deep. Spilling into you again and again with each pulse of his cock, blood rushing in his ears.

Legs threatening to give as he empties himself, as his chest presses flush against your back. His face buried in your hair, as your tongue traces his knuckles. Cleaning them, as he did for you.

When he can, Logan eases from you with a grunt. Watching how you gape, then clench, now empty.

A bead of his release welling up, dripping against your skin. You go to move, but Wade’s hands curl around your calves - pulling you flush.

It’s hard to look away, as he licks away Logan’s come. A sharp ache of desire with the sound of a needy groan, as his tongue dipping inside.

Maybe Wade doesn’t have such a bad mouth, after all.

Logan’s arm is numb, but he can’t bring himself to move. Can’t remember a time when he’d let his brain turn off like this. A brief moment of silence, and it’s bliss. His world standing still.

“So that’s how you do it.” You muse quietly, dizzily. Head cradled against his chest - fingers dragging through the hair, gently scratching.

A stirring on his other side, where Wade is using his bicep like a pillow.

“Mm, I don’t think I got it,” Wade counters, but it’s soft - hazy at the edges. “Think I missed a couple steps. Was that round two or three?

"Three," You say - as Logan grunts, "Two."

The fingers on his chest drift down, dipping over his stomach.

“Well, either way...” You hum, snuggling a little closer, “Maybe you oughta show us, one more time.”

Wade flips over then, chin propped in his hand, “At least. Maybe even twice. We’re bad learners, peanut. Dumb as fucking rocks, really.”

“Mhmm,” You sigh, “Really dumb. Can't even count.”

And he can’t stop the twitch of his lips, even with his eyes closed. Had forgotten what it was like to be warm like this.

To be wanted.

And maybe, he even feels… content.

Something he never thought he’d be, again.

thank you so much for reading! it means so much and I am so happy to be dipping my toes into these pairings💖

[screampied]

sukuna never says “i love you.”

to him, the words are meaningless. he’s been alive for thousands and thousands of years, of course he knows what it means. he’s not stupid, but for some reason—every time it comes out of your little human mouth, his heart aches. you say it so sweetly with the cheekiest grin on your face, not a single care in the world. he hated it. three words, eight letters of pure rubbish. at least, that’s what he thinks to himself. for sukuna, he expresses his love in a different way.

physical touch. flicking your forehead, teasing you, saying things he’d never say to you while you were awake. that was his version of love, he didn’t need those stupid, stupid words. or did he?

“love you, ‘kuna,” you’d pepper another kiss against his cheek. he tchs, the audacity for you to do something so embarrassing. he never says it back but you know deep down he’s got to feel at least something in that cold heart of his. he just has to, after all you did steal his heart in a way. and he stole yours. your eyes always had a glinting sparkle whenever those words would come out and he hated it. his response to you saying you loved him would always be the same.

“yeah yeah,” he gruffs. or a simple, “i know..”

but— there’d be a time where he’d regret not saying it back. a cold, cruel time where it’s just you and him, no one else. except, it would really just be him.

sukuna had a hard time at expression his feelings. it’s not like he hated you—despite his rough, barbarous persona.

he didn’t hate you but he did. it was complicated. it was a struggle trying to put it into words. all he knew was that he loathed how soft you made him, he noticed his behavior would change around you overtime. sukuna’s voice was get more gentle, his shoulders would relax, and he’d always finding himself flicking your forehead for some strange reason. it’s annoying,

you’re annoying.

the feeling was love though, it had to be.

had to be,

so the moment comes where he regrets not saying it back.

it’s something he’d continuously beat himself up over for. because now, here you are, laid all out near the ground in his arms. all four of his arms held you in a tight, cradling embrace and he’s got an expression you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. sukuna’s scarlet red irises were blown and fearfully dilated. his thin nostrils flared up and his slit brows contort in panic and confusion.

sukuna ryomen was scared.

“brat. get up.” he murmurs, three simple words was all he said to you. three simple words but you could barely even hear them.

all you heard was a brief inaudible mumble. you saw his lips moving but barely any sound came out. your body felt crushed, the pain was excruciating. your limbs, they felt like they were on fire. getting up was the last thing on your mind and you’ve probably sone the most careless thing imaginable.

you took a hit for sukuna, a deadly hit that was powerful enough to cost you your life. it’s funny though—all the talk of seeing your life flash before your eyes, and now, being snatched into the inevitable end, you were starting to really see it.

“get up,” he repeats, and this time, a single tear falls right onto your cheek. you meet sukuna’s gaze. the king of curses was a mere mess right before your eyes. he was like this for just you. teary eyed and sniffling, he can’t stand this pain.

you’re being held in his lap and not once does his eyes leave yours. sukuna takes a while to speak again and it’s as if he’s carefully thinking of what to say. time was precious right now, but he didn’t wanna think about anything. his focus was solely on you, his favorite little human.

“can you hear me? say something.”

“you .. you’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep frowning too much, ‘kuna.” you hum, a weak finger stroking against his cheek.

archons, for whatever reason, that little comment brought a smile to his face. you were so annoying to him and yet, he wouldn’t wanna be in anyone else’s presence. everything hurt though,

your body felt scorchingly hot, your pulse remains to ring through your ears and you were wheezing a bit. “hey, hey,” he watches as you try to cling onto his hand. sukuna didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what to say - all he did do though, was hold you. it was the least thing he could do. your hand was so small compared to his, his long fingernails gently tickling against your skin.

he didn’t have it in him to scold you for trying to protect him. as fragile of a being you knew you were, you did it anyway. you risked your life for him. sukuna let his guard down and you jumped right in the way without a second thought for yourself. that’s what love was, his heart bleeds at the recent flashback before a shaky breath leaves his lips. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. you can’t leave me like this, please.”

“i’m not l- leaving.” you reply, your voice weak and frail. sukuna knew that was a lie. the more you stared at him, how the look of worry on his face paints and marinates his features, he was really scared. you were his everything, his breath of fresh air, maybe even his one true love. “never gonna leave you, sukuna.”

and sukuna lays there with you on his lap. you seem still - too still. right before his eyes, he watches as your body’s temp run cold, final breaths making its introduction. everything was going so fast. he barely had time to react before he realized,

you were gone.

“no,” he whispers under his breath. the demon was at a loss of words. the feeling in his chest, it was indescribable. painful, and tight as he watches the light leave your eyes, something within him leaves also. a part of him. you were drifting away and there was nothing he could do about it. “no.” he repeats against, feeling a dull ache run cold through his body. sukuna didn’t know what to do. he’s seeing red, but perhaps that wasn’t just bloodshed and anger. maybe, maybe it was the one true feeling he was denying all along,

love.

his breaths become heavy once he realizes you’re actually gone. no movement, no cheeky replies, no random “i love you ‘kuna’s,” no nothing. the tear in his heart was enough to make him see the light with you. it hurt horribly, a lump in his throat builds up before he starts to weep. one tear comes then multiple shortly follow, landing past the thin fabric of his sown kimono and onto your lifeless body.

sukuna hated you. he hated how you made him so soft, so vulnerable, so weak. you came into sukuna’s life, stole his heart, and also broke it.

as his eye twitches, his smile had already faded once you left him.

for the first time in centuries, sukuna was defeated. his enemy wasn’t a sorcerer, a curse, or even himself who he believed was his true worse enemy. sukuna ryomen was defeated by four simple letters, love. not only did you leave him in tears, but you also left him with an engagement ring inside his right palm.

he was far too late, he was gonna propose to you. that way, he’d build up the courage to say those stupid, stupid words. opening up his right hand, he stares at the ring he wanted to give you way earlier before this incident even happened. sukuna waited too long, he’d actually plan this for quite some time but again, he was scared.

with a defeated sigh, he surrenders, glancing at you for one last time. no smile on your face anymore but he just used his imagination. there you laid, peaceful, almost as if you were asleep. taking a deep breath, sukuna gives you his last gentle forehead flick before finally telling you the words he’s been longing to say for years.

“i … i love you too, brat. never leavin’ you either.”

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 ♡. | genshin!various x gn!reader

「 "𝐚𝐡, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐩…"」

— in which you kiss him ... accidentally, and indirectly.

𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 — kazuha, gaming, FREMINET, THOMA, KAVEH, chongyun, gorou

— "Ah, wrong cup."

It's a warm morning, yet the shade of the light canopy of trees provides ample comfort. At your words, however, the amicable conversation halts. Gingerly, you place his cup back on its saucer, uttering a quiet apology. "Sorry, sorry..."

Ugh, a quiet moment with someone you'd been pining after for ages, and you likely just sabotaged any chance you had. Making someone uncomfortable is surely not a way to have someone fall head over heels for you. You cautiously glanced upwards, catching the sight of... something you didn't expect...!?

He hid in his hand, raised and flush against his face. It was rather insufficient in the whole "hiding" department, however, for you could still clearly see the fluster on his features and the red cast across the tips of his ears. Just above the cover of his fingers were his eyes, hurriedly averted from yours. His mouth was slightly ajar, but in the moments that passed, his lips moved to form whispers you couldn't quite catch.

You stood, frantic. Really, every one of your plans was going awry. "I'm sorry! I, I'll go get you a new cup-"

"He caught his hand in his before you could fully depart, clutching it tightly. His usually cool skin was warm. "N, No, I- It's fine..."

He watched your face brighten with relief as you sat back down, completely cheery again, and released a breath quietly.

Ah, how was he supposed to tell you that the mere sight of your lips touching where he had put his made his heart skip a beat?

— It simply wasn't fair.

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 — HEIZOU, KAEYA, CHILDE, venti, ayato, LYNEY

— "Wait, let me try..."

Word had gotten around of a new drink, supposedly "the best in all of teyvat"... naturally, that called for a timely visit. It didn't exactly matter who you went with, though who were you fooling, it did, and he'd been the first one that came to mind when you were drafting a letter. Now, he stood by your side, leisurely swinging his arms while he walked and smiling smugly.

The reason? The moment you reached into your pocket to fish out your wallet to pay the fee for two drinks, you'd found your pockets empty, and that's where he had swooped in, graciously handing over his mora instead. The moment the two of you exited the vicinity of the drink stall, however, he somehow materialized your wallet once more and placed it in your hands with a cat-like grin. That little... you'd be sure to treat him to a meal sometime soon, a favor like that couldn't just be gone unpaid.

...That, and it was a convenient excuse to spend another outing with him.

"Hey, you got the limited edition flavor? C'mon, give me just a sip..." You beamed when he handed said drink down towards you, taking a sip from his straw — until you realized just what you'd done, of course.

It wasn't like it was something dire, not by any means. You were rather the romantic, and the fact that... well, hadn't the two of you just kissed indirectly?

You didn't voice your thoughts, only meekly retreated after handing the bottle back to him, growing even more flustered when your fingers brushed against his in the process. He seemed to hear them, however, and a smirk made its way onto his lips.

"Oh, don't tell me you were aiming for an indirect kiss all along?"

"W- No!" Ugh, that twinkle in his eyes was dangerous. It's easy to see that he doesn't believe you in the slightest. Yet, before you can dispense another rebuttal, he reaches a hand up to your hair and makes a mess of it.

— "Aha, who knew you were so sly~"

𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 — alhaitham, XIAO, albedo, diluc, neuvillette

— "Is something wrong?"

Well, not exactly "wrong", per se. Instead, there was definitely something wrong with you in particular.

The situation started off like any other would. You found the man in his usual place, and greeted him with a smile, to which he nodded in response. He was a busy person, so you'd decided to take the initiative and make him a boxed lunch, only planning to give it to him and then let him carry on with whatever tasks he needed to complete — only... hey, wasn't it too out of character of him to ask you to feed him??

He glanced up at you, his head subconsciously tilting to the side. Just with that simple movement, a figurative arrow struck your heart. "If it's too much trouble, nevermind-"

You awkwardly coughed into your fist, trying to disperse any awfully hopeful thoughts of "hey, isn't this so romantic!?" in your head — yearning for him was one thing, but projecting your imagination of him would be another entirely. "No, it's fine- I was just caught off guard, is all..." At this point, you were more so convincing yourself than him. You dipped your head in a nod to yourself. Of course, he was so swamped with duties that he couldn't spare the time to feed himself, that was the case, wasn't it?

"Here, open wide..." You took a portion of the food and lifted it up to his lips, and he ate it agreeably. Hamster. He's like a hamster, a thought you really shouldn't be having considering how his disposition was, but seeing him swiftly chewing the portion in his cheeks... you cleared your throat, only to flinch with a start upon realizing he'd taken the utensils from you. Now, he held some of the lunch up to you, gesturing it to your mouth.

"Eh, but this is for you-" You declined, yet the insistence in his gaze only grew.

"You brought it for me, so you should have some as well."

"Well... alright," not willing to bother with an argument you were not likely to win, you ate what he hovered before you gratefully, trying to ignore the way he was staring at you as you ate.

W, Wait, hold on, isn't that the same cutlery he used-

"Your face is red. Did you choke? Here, let me-"

"No, it's just that- we, just now- ah, it's nothing."

— "Mhm."

( a/n ) new post format and its silly ( i hate everything about this ) :stareyes: ahahah anyways. trying to revive myself so. you guys get ( poorly cooked ) food :>

𝐭 𝐚 𝐠 𝐥 𝐢 𝐬 𝐭 : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima, @sangoqueenkoko, @haliyamori ...

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 02:33 P.M 」

based on this video. this idea has been rotting in my brain for some while :') dad gojo will always have a soft spot in my heart <3

a part of gojo's love entries

your baby’s first trip to aquarium was such a cute affair you were sure you wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

“waaa~” your baby’s eyes were gleaming with wonder as he gazed at the diverse array of colorful fishes above him, completely captivated by the view.

and your husband...

“aren’t they pretty, hmm?” satoru asked his adorable son with a grin, pecking his cheek and holding him snugly in the baby carrier against his chest, with a backpack of baby essentials strapped on his back.

he was the very vision of a domestic dad, and along with your son, who was dressed in a bear onesie, complete with two little ears, they made a really irresistible pair. even you couldn’t fault the crowd for staring at them.

“fwaa! waa~” your munchkin was squirming with joy, his tiny fingers stretching out towards the sight before him. satoru giggled, moving closer to the glass to give his baby a better view.

“look! that’s clownfish! and those wiggly flowers are anemone! and that is—”

he faltered at a fish passing in his view before deciding, “this— i don’t know, but it’s the clownfish’s friend!”

they are basically the same. your little boy and your husband, both of them clearly shared a brain cell as they happily pointed out different fishes.

“meh! hehe!” your baby babbled away, excited and incredibly happy in his father’s hold, and satoru too seemed to feel the same, as his eyes beyond that sunglasses crinkled.

“damn, my kid is so cute.”

suddenly he dived down and pretended to chew his pumpkin’s chubby cheeks, effectively making him squeal in glee.

and oh lord, the way your heart skipped a beat seeing that. it was so clear how much satoru adored your baby, and it made overwhelming warmth rush to your chest.

“he’s a good man,” an elderly lady beside you suddenly remarked, making you turn to her. “not many men do that for their kids.”

“he is…” you agreed with a shy smile.

“it’s a shame that you only have one baby,” the elderly man beside her—possibly her husband—added. “you’re still young and he is so good with them too.”

your heart swelled and would’ve already burst if it was possible. bashfully, you thanked the elderly pair as they went on their way.

and along the way, you received similar hushed comments and adoring looks—

“oh my! their baby is so cute!”

“how can such family exists?! the dad, mom, baby… all three of them are so good-looking!”

“such a hot dilf! can’t he divorce his wife and marry me instead? i’ll be his kid’s stepmother gladly!”

satoru pretended not to hear, but he clearly held back his laugh. you threw the school girl who carelessly blurted that a pointed look, making her scurry away.

and after the three of you were done walking around the aquarium, you stopped by the gift shop to get your baby his first fish pet.

your son suddenly became fussy, and satoru unclasped him from the carrier. “hmm? do you want mama?” he handed him over to you. “here, here~ mama wants to hold you too~”

as soon as your son was settled in your embrace, he giggled, and you couldn’t help but bounce him and coo. “do you have fun? you do, don’t you?”

it might not visible to others, but now satoru was staring at both of his reasons of being with literal stars in his eyes.

several years ago, he thought his life had stopped when his best friend negated his beliefs entirely, but you were there, holding his hand throughout it all. and then you married him— and then, you gave him a son to dote on.

you keep giving his life a new meaning. and he was thankful for that.

. . . meanwhile, you kept hearing whispers from a gaggle of girls in the next aisle, about how much of a dreamboat your husband in his blue shirt was and it was grating at your nerves so much that you pursed your lips into a total pout.

satoru thought you were the cutest, not even second to his baby, and he decided he wasn’t known for public decency anyway so he dived in and pecked your lips—dispelling any stray thoughts and making you flush in an instant.

“sato—!”

and before you could rebuke him, he whispered in your ear:

“so... baby number two, when?”

[uravitypng]

big beefy number one pro hero deku is absolutely smitten with you, his chubby little girlfriend, and yeah you're a little bit of an airhead sometimes but that makes you all the more endearing to him.

prior to meeting you he used to feel embarrassed whenever he'd ramble too long about heroes or quirks. after some time people would drown him out after he started his disjointed babbling, not wanting to listen to him ramble. with you it's different, the first time it happened he went to apologise to you. jirou once told him he should try and apologise if he realised he did it to strangers afterwards- especially now that he's a pro hero.

so he goes to stammer out an apology after realising he spoke to you uninterrupted about all might's golden age for five minutes and you tilt your head and giggle at him. izuku draws in a breath. "why are you apologising deku? i really liked hearing you speak. what about his other ages?"

izuku felt like he was malfunctioning, "what?"

you bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling again. who knew pro hero deku is so cute? "like the silver age and the bronze age? are those all the ages or is there like a platinum age too?" izuku grins, you're so interested in what he has to say he can't help it. "wait was is all might's quirk again? he's like strong right? that's his quirk."

izuku pauses for a second before barking out a laugh. you pout and glare at him feigned annoyance. 'she's so adorable and ditzy. i need to speak to her again.'

you constantly praise him, not just for hero work either, and ever single time it makes his entire face red. it doesn't matter that you've been dating for four years now and izuku's brought an engagement ring, he still gets flustered with all the compliments.

people compliment him all the time, it comes with the job, but when you do it it means so much more. " 'zuku you're so brave!" "i don't understand this at all izuku, can you explain it too me? you're the smartest person i know." "you're so pretty." "your hair is so soft." "you're the best hero ever!"

a light sheen of sweat covers your forehead after being manhandled by your boyfriend into the cowgirl position, he loves holding onto your love handles and moving you up and down on his cock, with each bounce your body jiggles. you'll lay in bed with your face buried in his chest as you trace the scars on his arms with your fingertips lightly, "you're so strong izuku." you turn to face him and your chubby cheeks lift as you smile. "i'm so proud of you." his heart skips a beat. he's never loved anyone more than he loves you.

izuku gets possessive of you, he doesn't like people touching you. you're his. before you he never thought he would be jealous or possessive but then you came into his life and he nearly broke the glass of champagne he was holding when he saw todoroki talk to you. he knows todoroki doesn't like you like that, he's liked yaoyorozu since ua but he was too close to you and izuku hated it. his legs moved before he could think, walking up to you both with a forced smile on his face. he wraps his arm around your soft waist, tightly, and kisses your forehead. you smile sweetly at him and lean into his body. izuku brought you home earlier than you thought he would that night, holding onto your thick thigh with one hand while his other hand is on the steering wheel, driving you both home.

his jealous nature was cemented a week after when he saw kaminari talking to you. not just talking to you- flirting with you. if izuku was holding a glass like he was last time he most certainly would of smashed it in anger. you don't even realise what kaminari is doing and izuku knows you don't.

you listen to him talk intently and nod your head, you smile at him and laugh at his jokes. to some people they would think this would be you flirting back but you're not, you're just trying to be nice. kaminari has decided to talk to you and you want to be kind and listen to what he has to say and izuku has really admired that quality about you but right now he wishes you could pick up on the clear signs that kaminari is giving you.

izuku snaps when he sees kaminari look at your cleavage and glance at your body, his eyes lingering on your plush thighs. his voice is strained as he pulls you away from kaminari making some half-arsed, offhanded excuse as he takes you home immediately.

when he saves a small child and he gives them his award winning grin all he can think about afterwards is you. 'who are our kids going to look like? will they have my freckles? or maybe her hair? if they're half as cute as her they'll be the cutest kids ever.' he's already planning their bedrooms and his eyes drift to the baby clothes section at stores.

your boyfriend has the biggest breeding kink known to man and you get reminded of that as he folds your body into a mating press and groans deeply in your ear, "can't wait to see your soft body get softer puppy, promise i'll look after, you won't have to lift a finger." you loudly whine, grabbing hold of his large arms, every thrust causes a loud slapping sound with how wet you are. "you're gonna look so pretty puppy. i'm going to pump you full, make sure you don't spill any for me, just like the good girl you are."

izuku adores you and you feel exactly the same about him.

[gladiatorcunt]

🍒🍦 ⸺ ᳂ cherry vanilla dr. pepper !!!

cw: afab reader, voyeurism, tashi and you make out while you get pounded, weird amalgamation of dehumanization/objectification/pet play, subby!art coded, spit roasting at the end, slight overstimulation, bizarre orgy vibes, mean dom!tashi to everyone but you <3, implied breeding/creampie kink, canon typical mind games, tashi sits in the cuck chair /j, implied romantic feelings but no mention of established romantic relationships, slight mxm, clit stimulation, one use of “mommy”

happy challengers day 🎾💚

consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip !

“Round 4 will be the last one, alright? Get ready, baby.”

You take deep breaths, clutching onto Patrick’s wrist. You lock eyes with Tashi, feeling syrupy sweet deep in your gut. She grins and unbuttons the top buttons of her shirt, leaving you three to your own devices for now.

The stretch of Patrick’s cock stings and burns a little but Art nipping at your hip bones helps distract you. Patrick pants against the nape of your neck, you feel so divinely tight he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.

He keeps his voice low so Tashi can’t hear him, “Fuck-you feel incredible, i’d kill for this pussy, you know that.”

“Hook your arm around their neck, good boy.” Tashi instructs Patrick, leaning back in the hotel chair and palming her pussy at the sight in front of her.

“Yes, ma’am.” He swiftly calls back, acting like he hadn’t said anything to you at all.

Patrick has you in a headlock, pummeling his cock in and out of your pussy with reckless abandon. Art is beneath the two of you, suckling on your clit like it’s a nipple he’s trying to get milk out of. He licks where you’re stretched around Patrick, drawing groans from you both and a chuckle from Tashi.

“Be a good dog and lap them up, okay? I’d hate to have to take away your toy privileges.” She sneers, sliding her damp underwear to the side and stroking her slit.

The “toy” in the equation isn't you.

You’re dead to the world, eyes bulging out of their sockets and nails trying to rip the white sheet to shreds. Your head and tits rock back and forth with Patrick’s thrusts, already on the brink of your fourth orgasm. You try to scream that you can’t take anymore, but you wanna make Tashi proud so you shut up.

“ ‘s so good…” Art hums into your mound, pecking little kisses onto it here and there.

His sounds are muffled but the vibrations send your eyes to the back of your head. The chair in the corner of the room creaks as Tashi gets up, and the second you lift your head and open your eyes, she’s smiling down at you with all the warmth she doesn’t give the men pleasing you. This isn’t about them, it never was.

“Patrick’s so big, Tashi-he’s unggggh-he’s gonna kill me!” You whine, desperately pawing at her clothed breasts.

She coos and pulls her blouse up, bringing your hands to cup her tits and keeping them there, “Baby you know he’s not, this pussy can take a beating. I’d only give you the best toys.”

You nod wordlessly, pouting your lips. She gets the message and claims your lips in a searing kiss, luxuriating in the slick slide of your lips. She loves to make it messy, getting spit all over your mouths and letting it drip on the bed.

Art mewls and flicks your clit, trying to get your attention. You feel bad and try to pull away from Tashi, but she yanks you back into the kiss and bites your lip as a punishment. You hiccup into her mouth, startled when Patrick starts jackhammering into you.

Tashi typically has them alternate, but Art prefere to bury his face between your thighs and Patricks likes to play with fire by cumming inside your sore cunt. He doesn’t speak as much as Art does, but sometimes he holds Tashi stare as you two make out. They’ll have to retire from Tashi’s “employment” eventually, and they’ll be taking you with them when they do. All games of keep away end.

Patrick traces letters and shapes on the glistening skin of your sweaty back, sloppy hearts and ‘ I - L - O - V - E - Y - O - U ‘ s.

You gasp and wrench yourself back to breathe. Art flattens his tongue and licks broad stripes over your labia. He nuzzles his nose into you, stopping to pant and take in your smell. He may be delusional, but he’s convinced that every part of you is so sweet. He honest to God can’t get enough, he’d lie in a puddle at your feet if you wanted him too.

Sometimes you feel torn when you fall into bed with your lovers. You’re too soft to be like Tashi, but that exact softness is exactly why you can’t handle being away from her for too long. Maybe you’ve fallen under her spell just like all the rest, but she puts her career on the line to prove how special you are.

Patrick pulls you up to rest your back against your chest. You let your head fall onto his shoulder and you moan when he adjusts the angle of his thrusts to rub against your cervix repeatedly. He wasn’t like this when the evening started, Patrick only roughens you up when you’ve been thoroughly run through and can take it with a dopey smile and glazed eyes.

“Keep going, it’s okay- want it-want you.” You cry out to Patrick, reaching down to caress his hip.

He smiles and licks your cheek, complying with your request.

Art grins up at you with his eyes, mouthing ‘That’s my angel, only for us.’ into the flesh of your inner thigh. He moves to Patrick balls and takes them into his mouth, bobbing them up and down with his tongue. Patrick moans as Art laves his balls in saliva. Art lets them fall out of his mouth, curling his tongue around the inches peeking out of your pussy and hollowing his cheeks out.

“Shit! Stop, ‘m gonna cum!” Patrick hisses through his teeth.

He either empties another load into you or he just refuses to cum if your pussy’s not available, period.

“They’re so hungry for it, aren’t they? Well, can he? Can our dog cum inside you, baby?” Tashi tsks, cupping your cheeks and bringing your attention back to her.

“Yes, yes, yes! He can cum inside-please let him cum inside mommy-i need it so bad-wanna be stuffed full with it!” You whimper and arch your back, jutting your tits out.

Tashi laughs and leans down to suck one of your pert nipples into her mouth, bouncing your other breast in her hand. Tears spill from your waterline down to her freshly manicured nails. Art has since gone back to sucking the life out of your clit, and the little wink he sends you doesn’t help you hold back your impending orgasm.

Patrick thrusts a few more times and then you’re cumming in sync. You go brain dead and your body locks up in his arms. You’re out of it for a good few minutes, and when you have full awareness again you see Art kneeling in front of you. He holds his dick out for you to gawk at, slowly pumping himself for your amusement.

Patrick hasn’t pulled out of your pussy but he doesn’t fuck you again, he jostles his hips to find the most comfortable position for his softening cock to plug you up.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He huffs and pushes you back down on all fours.

“You need your mouth taken care of too.” Art whines and squeezes his cock around the base, beckoning you closer with a ‘come hither’ gesture.

Said man is tenderly and carefully bundling up your hair in his arm and casting it aside, giving him ample space on your back to pet. He rubs the pink tip of his cock along your jawline, he gives you a fresh coat of lip gloss via his precum as he slaps your plump lips with his cockhead.

“It’s kinda like sucking off a dildo attached to a mirror, don’t think too hard about it.” Tashi tells you, crouching down to suck the small divot in your back.

She sits back in the cheap black hotel chair, shrugging her blouse off and pinching her nipples.

You moan at the first taste of Art’s cock, longer than Patrick’s but with less heft to it. You peer out of the corner of your eye to see if Tashi’s still watching, and you feel silly when you realize that she always is.

“Doing good, baby, keep it up.”

But that’s the thing, they’re all watching you now. It’s not hard to be a pathetic bottom that needs to be coddled and tended to at all times. It’s never difficult to stroke the fire in someone’s ego, you’ve had an easier job of that than anything else.

You saw them all together on the court, you were there for lessons that didn’t work out. Who knows how long ago, it feels like a lifetime, but all it took was one look to recognize what was destined to be yours. You couldn’t give less of a fuck about Tennis in actuality, but you sure do love the players.

They all have hearts in their eyes as they watch you. Art with his dick deep down your throat, his legs are trembling as he tries to stop himself from fucking your face. Patrick, still making a forever home for himself in your guts, his eyes are so dark you have to repress a shiver. And Tashi, knuckles deep in her pussy, finger fucking herself to the pretty little show her baby puts on with their toys.

When the boys are asleep, you’ll bounce on her ribbed strap until you shatter all over again.

Now, Is it cheating to win a game when people don’t realize that you're playing?

- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or put my works into ai

[deadsetobsessions]

Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.

“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”

God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.

Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.

“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”

“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”

“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”

Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.

“What happened?!”

“My word, master Danny!”

“What is it?!”

“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”

Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.

“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”

“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.

“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.

“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”

The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.

“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”

“Danny.”

“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.

“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.

Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.

“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”

Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…

“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”

“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.

“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”

The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.

“Done.”

“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”

“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”

“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”

“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”

“Very well.”

“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.

——

“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”

“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.

“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”

“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”

Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.

“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”

“Tt.”

“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”

[iisasxia]

Bakugou Katsuki who’s heart tightens when his s/o cries in front of them, his lip slightly quivers because the pain you feel is shared with him and he promises to beat up and kill whatever or whoever it is that made you feel that way.

Midoriya Izuku who likes to take on a list of chores all the time to make sure when his s/o comes home from work she can shower and rest right away because to him, even as a pro-hero, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for them.

Todoroki Shoto who brings home a single flower everyday, usually a different one and gives it to reader as a small gesture of his love. Sometimes he struggles to say how he feels verbally but he’ll never let that stop him from showing you. You now have a vase full of a bunch of random flowers, but can’t help the smile that finds your face every morning you walk by them.

Bakugou Katsuki who loves to cook for reader, he’ll try new recipes to understand what they like and don’t like, what they love or what they hate. He’ll always serve them the first plate and wait for them to try it to see their reaction, “So, how is it?” and if they like it you best believe he’s saving that recipe in a folder to keep in mind when to make whenever you’re mad at him. (A smart tactic that always wins you over when you guys argue.)

Midoriya Izuku who texts you during his missions and patrols to remind you that you’re doing an amazing job. It’ll be something as simple as “I’m proud of you.” or even “You’re gonna have an amazing day, can’t wait to see you after work.” And it always brightens up your day because hearing it from him, you know it’s true.

Todoroki Shoto who doesn’t mind doing the laundry even when you tell him he doesn’t have to fold your underwear as you find it a bit embarrassing but he’s so care free he doesn’t even think about it when he does. “No. You folded the laundry last week, it’s my turn to do it. I want you to rest.” He’s not taking anything else for an answer so you better listen to him when he says to rest, he means it.