#man.. now I have to get a cage for this guy..

[goopingandgunking]

Oh my me- yes- no, I’m on with him right now- okay. Okay, good. Sorry- C wanted me to give you this since he’s a little eepy right now. G is just as dramatic as usual, anyway! Here. His name is crackers. Bye for realsies now - 😎

<a mouse appears on Charlie’s hands>

Charlie almost drops it like the flower from before, but manages to stop his impulses and moves forward to keep it in his hand.

“What.. okay?! Thank you?” He say, drawing out the t in thank, unsure if he really even should say thank you.

[suiana]

yandere! priest and gn! succubus/incubus guys... omg...

he's a devoted little thing, so passionate to his religion and his god. his mind and heart are pure, never straying from his faith even when the most beautiful of people had thrown themselves at him.

and then you came stumbling right into his life.

you, a sex demon. all skimpy clothes, flirty and giving him bedroom eyes in a church. it was even worse that you had thrown yourself at him on your first meeting, clinging to his arm like some clingy lover.

"hey pretty boy~ wanna show me a good time?"

"the only good time i have is when I'm thinking of my god. do you want to join a sermon?"

maybe it was because he was so holy but he wasn't repulsed by you. flashing you a gentle smile as he allowed you to cling to him. oh, a sinner. how pitiful. it's no matter, if you repent enough and ask for forgiveness, he's sure that even god will accept you. he'll help you find the right path that is god. you've fallen right into his arms after all. it must be fate and perhaps he was meant to help you.

you don't quite share the same sentiment though.

you just wanna fuck that priest. his cute face, sweet little laughter... devil below you want that man. plus you hadn't fed in days... you're practically starving over here!

"come on... just some head? i bet your pretty mouth could be out to better use than some sermons."

"yes, a better use would be when I'm holding your hand and bringing you to the light of salvation."

he's always so calm and composed. all smiles and a calm demeanour that never exposes what he's feeling. even his eyes are smiling, damn. it's a bit scary that you can't accurately tell what he's feeling. the only thing you have is the slightly obsessive and unsettling darkness his eyes seem to contain. nah, can't be anything much. he's just a priest who wants to play hard to get.

it's infuriating, you think.

you continue to hold on a little longer. maybe he'll crack sooner or later? he's just a man after all... and you're a gorgeous thing meant for temptation... he'll give in right? right? you continue pestering him, clinging to his side as you ignore the horrified looks the other clerics and church goers give you as you beg for the monstrous dick you know he's packing.

but he doesn't show any signs of budging and you eventually try leaving because you're so starved that it hurts. like damn! you still need to feed! and if he's not gonna give it to you, you'll just find someone else!

however...

"where do you think you're doing?"

"huh? priesty boy? you following me?"

"yes."

"???"

you're confused as he practically rips you off of the random guy you picked off the street, dragging you back to the church with him. and all while he continued to smile at you like he always has. only this time, this smile harboured some... ill intent.

"oi at least tell me what you're doing-"

"i am going to punish you."

"punish?"

he stops in his tracks, turning to smile at you as hus grip around your wrist tightens painfully. you wince at the force he's using, desperately trying to tug your hand away. what the hell?

the priest doesn't let you. if anything, his grip only tightened even more. what's worse is that he's now punning you to the wall, caging you in as he stares down deep into your soul with his deep and unnerving eyes.

"yes, punish."

he continues to smile at you, simply caging you against the wall before his voice drops.

"it's the job of a priest to guide newcomers to repentance and i intend to do that with you. yet, you've almost committed an act of sin. i cannot allow that to pass, my dear."

what the- what is he doing?!

"you'll understand once I'm done with you. after all, the god above has personally given you to me as a mission and a gift."

he mumbles, leaning into your lips before his smile lowers into a creepy and unsettling smirk. bruh you might be a demon but this guy right here has got to be the devil's spawn or something. what is he yapping about? gift? mission? you just want some dick!

"hey I don't understand-"

"of course you don't. you're confused."

he cuts you off before you can say anything. his face way too close for comfort as you try sinking into the wall. um... you don't think you wanna play anymore...

"it's okay. I'll help you understand. I'll help you understand your true purpose and that is to repent and be born anew."

he pauses, tilting his head before his smile widens unnaturally.

"that way we can actually be together under the eyes of god. you want to copulate, yeah?"

huh? what's sex gotta do with this?

"after you've finally repented, I'll give you what you want. sex is an intimate and special thing between two people in love. don't worry, there'll be plenty of time for you to fall for me."

wait what?!

[i-cant-sing]

Okay but I need yall to help me figure out the character(s) for the following scenario:

Imagine a romantic yandere falling for reader, and ofc reader isn't in love with yandere for obvious reasons like red flags. Maybe they did try dating, Yandere is a charmer, comes from a rich family, he's smart and hardworking and oh so head over heels in love with you. He's always taking you out on best dates, HAS to get you the largest fucking bouquets (excellent taste in flowers) and buys you expensive but well thought out gifts.

But for whatever reason, things dont work out and you break things off hastily and most likely over the phone before leaving the country. And yandere just- breaksdown. I mean my man does not have a good mental health as is, but you leaving, actually leaving him just breaks him down and he has a full blown panic attack.

I'm talking about yandere falling to his knees, clutching his chest and gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he screams your name like a mad man. His family, they love him, they adore their son/brother/grandchild sm, it pains them to see him in such a miserable state. Yandere man is so delirious that he has to be sedated, tranquillised by medical professionals because he's just losing his fucking mind, babbling your name over and over again like a mad man. His condition only worsens as time passes, and so his family decides to take drastic measures because they can't see their beloved son/brother/grandkid so fucking dead and depressed and a shell of a once bright man. They love him so much, they only want ti see him happy, so they use their money and influence to track you down and try to convince you to return and take yandere back. When you refuse, they take the high way and force you to come with them, dragging you kicking and screaming to their private jet and fly all the way home, where yandere is.

You're in a dishevelled state, tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to free yourself from their grasps as they take you to yandere. And when yandere sees you... for the first time in months, his family sees the light return in his eyes as the yandere reaches out for you, scared that you're just his mind playing tricks. When he finally touches you, he is immeadiately pulling you into a hug, arms tightening around your body like a gilded cage as he cries into your shoulder and thanks his family for bringing you back. His family only smiles with tears in their eyes as they lock the door behind them when they leave, so that you don't go running away. Meanwhile, yandere has pulled you into his lap and he's looking at you with such sad eyes, staring at each feature of yours over and over again as if to memorise it all again. He can't help the tears that continue to slip out of his eyes, maybe he's crying that you're finally here, or maybe he's crying for all the time that's been lost when you weren't here. You fall asleep soon due to exhaustion, but yandere doesn't sleep a wink that night because he continues to stare at you and play with your hair very gently, finally closing his eyes when morning comes and he wraps his arms around you and traps your legs with his.

By now, you guys realise that the yandere's family is not only yandere for their son/brother/grandson but also for you. They are yandede for you too, but they're not allowing you to leave them or their son or even make him unhappy ever again. Some members are willing to let all you "tantrums" slide, while others are not so kind. BUT one thing is for sure, you're ALWAYS safe with yandere s/o, no matter what.

Now, for the characters I've had in kind for this scenario are:

Halim Mehmet Shah and the Shah Family (my ocs)

Dabi/Shotou and Todoroki clan (I am the OG creator of Yandere Todoroki Clan)

I wanna say Naoya or Toji but the Zenin clan hates them both....

Dick Grayson/Jason Todd and Batfam

What do you guys think?

Mood board for this scenario^^^(I love Pinterest)

[hyhkai]

camboy! | c.yj.

[ 🎥 ] — after yeonjun's rise in the porn industry, an interview was something he agreed to for fun. however, after he saw you, the interviewer, he wished it was a fake interview where he gets to fuck you.

cw : pornstar!yeonjun. unedited word vomit fictional magazine company that apparently also exists in real life.

a/n ; i apologize for my sins i swear I'll change 🙏🏼 and this is a drabble, not a fic! i might turn it into one over time ♡

after you reached out to him a few weeks ago with greetings and compliments, and asking can I interview you some time? I'd like to know what it's like to be a person who earns through the adult industry, and with your fame, I know that you're just the right person., his first, honest reaction was to laugh. i mean, seriously?

he was laughing at the irony of the fact that he was being interviewed. i mean, who was willing enough to take out time of their busy, hectic schedule to interview a man who earns bread by having a dildo inside of him? he had to know. he wanted to know what this person was like.

he did think that this could be completely false and you could be a potential threat, trying to lure him into your little cage with cheese like he's a fucking rat, capture him and do bad things to him like he'd heard with various nefarious acts of people against people with 'easy' fame.

"can I get proof that you're actually an interviewer?"

to which he immediately got a response with a photo of a xerox copy of your identification document, namely at a popular company called mode de vie. he could see the black and white ink that framed the photo stuck on the top right corner, and he knew that he had to see that fucking face in real life. if that's how you look in a awfully captured picture, so captivating, bold, and confidence outlining your eyes in the form of sharp eyeliner, he had to see that face in front of him, asking him questions about his body count or something else he doesn't give two shits about.

he'd said sure to your offer almost immediately now that he saw that it was a real interviewer after him. and now that it was time, he drove to the place where you both agreed to be at — a café which was relatively close to his house and your office.

"I'm glad you came!" you said as you shook his hand that would eventually get sweaty from just sitting opposite to you. what the fuck? he seriously considered telling you to quit this stupid, serious job and just join him in his public sex life. you were stunning.

now that he saw your hair open, framing your face, and that fucking sharp-ass eyeliner, he was mad that he didn't dress up nicely and instead came in a hoodie. who wants to miss a chance of getting a baddie?

he thanked the lords he'd long forgotten when you told him this is just an audio based interview which will later be turned into a text format.

while you continued asking him questions about everything, from "fuck-a-fan" to "how did your mother find out?", he'd needed to ask you to repeat your questions several times. his eyes kept drifting down, down to your chest.

'why the fuck are you wearing a top so low-cut? is it to provoke me or something?' he'd think. he legitimately wants to put his hand on the table, pushing himself towards you and grabbing one of your tits. it's pissing him off he can't.

okay, so maybe he was a pervert like one of his friends liked to say. but it wasn't his fault when you were asking him questions about his sex life while looking at him with those eyes that were possibly tearing his clothes off.

in his world, that is.

'do you want to fuck me too, or am I trippin'?'

he knew he had to keep his filthy hands, his filthy thoughts, to himself. c'mon, it's a fucking interview, yeonjun. grow up. you've had plenty of girls and guys to fuck in your life. from small and petite, to taller than you. from fucking someone to getting fucked. you've done it all. why are you so captivated by this woman?

maybe it was the way you had your makeup done that had him wishing he could see it smeared all over with a new makeup product; his cum, or maybe it was your tits that were practically begging to be the thing he shoves his face in tonight. but no, it was the way you carried yourself.

there was this... this aura, this radiation of confidence that was magnetic enough for him to be pulled to you.

under the table, he was practically going to rub one out. he kept adjusting his pants, kept palming his dick that was straining against his pants and standing up against his thoughts of not fucking you ever.

ugh, just how fucking good you'd look on his bed, and he swears he could go above his rounds per fucking streak of 4 with you; from classic missionary to the amazon position, from sixty-nine to his foot on your face while he fucked your ass from the back. fuck, he'd even let you peg him, something he's always refused to do.

just how good you'd look while sliding your strap-on inside of him, his eyes going wide, as well as your smile at the sight of his pretty face. he thinks you'd like some crazy songs playing in the background, similar to the vibe of playboi carti.

fuck, he'd hold onto your tits for support, comfort, for just the fucks of it no matter who is topping.

"um, excuse me?" you asked when he spaced out in the middle.

"yeah?" he said, looking up from the table where both of your milkshakes resided.

"thank you for the interview. i appreciate it a lot!" you said, smiling at him, completely unaware of the junk he had in his brain about you. you put out your hand for a friendly yet professional handshake.

"oh, yeah, of course." he muttered out, responding to your hand with his that was definitely sweaty.

as you closed your notepad and stopped the recording, he looked up at your face finally.

"can I ask you a question too?"

"oh, yes, of course." you said, looking up at him with a face of genuine curiosity. maybe it would be something like —

"when will this be posted?"

"where can I read it?"

"will there be a hardcopy?"

"would you ever fuck me if you could?"

and suddenly, this was the first time you regretted not recording the aftermath of an interview.

[mockerycrow]

Love your works! May I please get a "don't worry, i'm not going anywhere." with Ghost? Take your time, I love what you write!

400 Follower Celebration

—“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”— With Ghost

Summary: You’re apart of the 141 and Ghost recently had a near-death experience. You’ve been plagued with nightmares about the situation, but you try to hide it from him, feeling selfish about your night terrors. One night, you’re thoroughly convinced Ghost had actually died.

A/N: THANK YOUUU I KEEP BLUSHING ILY AND TYSM FOR 500 FOLLOWERS

[WARNINGS: vomit, detailed nightmares, panic attack, gore, fake-death, angst, hurt/comfort.]

It was always the same nightmare. It was a repeat of that one mission months ago—nearly a year ago by now, where you and your team went to grab some important intel about a new uprising cartel that was showing some dangerous potential. It was a large compound, four floors including the basement, wide rooms with many blind-spots. Using your rifle equipped with a heat signature sensor, you swept room to room, leading your team through the building, putting anyone down who dared fired a bullet at you or your team.

You turn that familiar corner and your heart sinks. You’ve tried many times to change the course of this dream, but no matter how frantically you try to scream about what is waiting on the other side of that door, your mouth refuses to work until Ghost rumbles out, “I’ll take point.” You try to fight every muscle in your body to stop this, but it’s like the dream freezes until you continue down the.. “right path”. Quite literally is a living fucking hell for you, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop it except do what it wants you to do.

“Roger.” You mutter, backing up behind Ghost instead of staying in front of him and leading him the others. The others are always blank faced soldiers in this nightmare, but you know who is who. You pat his shoulder, aimming over him as you walk down the hall close together, hugging the wall. You’ve been through this so many times, you know to eye the floor and you watch the moment happen—Ghost steps on a pressure plate and—BOOM.

You’re always forced to watch it in slow motion; the wall being blown open right next to Ghost, watching the debris scatter everywhere, scraping yourself up as well as Ghost. He raises his arm to shield his face from whatever is happening, unable to process in time that a man wielding a sharp combat knife is pulling his arm back and comes down with it.

You watch the way the knife so easily slides into his rib cage, and it’s almost like you could hear it penetrating his lung like it did—but this time, the man rips the knife out and does it again and again and again—this has never happened before—Ghost’s falling to the ground, his blood splattering everywhere, fuck, it’s like the guy is trying to gut him—but you can’t move. You have to sit there and watch this man. plunge a knife in and out of Ghost’s chest until he finally decides to stab him deep and yank downwards, spilling his intestines and stomach—yet, his lifeless eyes keep eye contact the entire time.

Your eyes fly open, dizzy from your heart pounding and unable to focus, you throw the blanket off of you and you make your way out of whatever room you’re in—you’re too freaked out to know. Your chest aches and feels like there’s a hundred tons sitting on your rib cage, restricting your breathing. You keep walking until you bump into something and you manage to focus enough to notice it’s the bathroom door. Your hand shakily grabs the doorknob and opens it, and you already feel the vomit traveling up your throat.

You end up bent over the open toilet, body heaving with every exile of the contents of your stomach, which by this time of night is mostly just bile. Your head is spinning and your hands keep shaking and by this point, you really don’t care how clean this bathroom is. You lean your elbows on the toilet rim and hold your head in your hands, trying your best to stifle a sob, even though all you can smell and feel is his blood on your fingertips. Your tears drip down your cheeks and collect at your chin before dripping off.

You keep one arm on the toilet seat to keep your head propped up and the other goes around your stomach, which is twisting painfully inside of your gut, ripping another sob from you. You gag into the toilet, but you’ve already thrown everything you had inside. Your throat and nose burns from the stomach acid, but it doesn’t compare to the emotional pain of losing Ghost. You just stood there and watched him get gutted—why do you deserve to grieve when you could have prevented it in the first place? Someone killed the Ghost, and you let it fucking happen.

A large hand sprawls across the flat of your back which is accompanied by a low, gritty voice. Whoever it is says something, but you don’t quite hear them. It’s probably Price, trying to comfort you, trying to say there’s one thing you could’ve done to stop it, but you know there was something you could do, anything you could’ve done.

Price calls your name and you go to shove him away, but his hands wrap around your wrists, and the voice is more insistent. You choke on a sob and shake your head, struggling against him until you hear it—his voice. “Fuck, [Name], can you hear me?” Ghost’s voice. It’s his voice.

No. Your mind is playing tricks on you and you won’t fall for it, you won’t let yourself go through this horrendous grief for a second time. You try to curl up into a ball, wanting to grab at your hair or your clothes, just anything but be here. “Look at me.” His hands grab your face and force your face to look at him and..

It’s him. It’s Ghost.

All of your noises stop for a moment as you stare with wide eyes that are full of unfallen tears, eyes full of grief, all for him. Ghost stares back at you with uncharacteristically wide eyes, and you can see the way his hands are slightly trembling—he’s worried about you. Ghost’s eyebrows furrow when he sees your expression of anguish. “Hey—hey, what happened?” Ghost’s voice is so quiet, like he’s afraid you’ll break if he speaks any louder. Your hands come up to his mask and touch it and you burst into a harsh sob again, throwing your arms around him.

Usually, Ghost would hesitate. He would be reluctant to reciprocate such personal touch, such desperation, but he pulls you close into his arms without a second thought. Your hands grab his shirt and you breakdown into his chest, wetting the fabric with your tears. His heart slipped a beat because he’s never seen you like this—has never seen you break down this horribly.

He’d be here when you were ready to talk about it, but for now he’ll stay to hold you until your shoulders stop shaking. Ghost moves to sit on his bottom and you whimper in fear, like he’ll leave. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

[starboye]

pairings: soldier boy x homelander x billy butcher x hughie campbell x male reader

request: Soldier Boy, Homelander, Butcher and Hughie get together to negotiate and you're their free use slut. Giving head under the table while real men talk, pulled away by one to relieve some tension, team tagged to help them bond... Maybe you're even wearing a chastity cage to ensure you behave

warnings: smut, oral sex, slight degrading, cursing, and something else idk

It was a little scary knowing that you were giving head to the most powerful man right now and if you messed up it could've costed your life but it was better that you didn't have to think when he was slamming his cock into your throat like it was a flesh light.

"hey stop hogging his mouth I want some" homelander says pulling you to his bare crotch by your hair before sinking you onto his raging boner, you had no idea what they were talking about and you didn't want to know what they're talking about as long as you got to suck their dicks "shit he's an eager one isn't he" homelander chuckles glaring down at you.

"can you stop focusing on getting your dick sucked and focus on the task at hand" soldier boy snaps "fine" he scoffs focusing back on the conversation above the table as you continue working on his hard on, you here them speak about some situation but you tune it out only focusing on making homelander cum, running your tongue along his slit and fondling his balls.

"fuck" homelander lowly curses as he balls his hands into fists and looks down into your watery eyes before cumming into your mouth with a shallow groan "good boy" he compliments moving you from in between his legs "my turn" you hear butcher pipe up lowering his pants enough for his dick to flop out "don't disappoint" butcher growls.

"yes sir" you nod obediently before sinking your mouth on his dick with a muffled gag that reverberates through him, "shit where did you get this one from" butcher chuckles "some random guy we found on the street" homelander say shrugging "think i might have to take him home" butcher mummers caressing you cheek "like hell you are" homlander says with red glowing eyes "try me" butcher threatens making his cock even harder.

"guys can we please just talk about the situation at hand" hughie says nervously "fine" they both agree calming down "speed it up sugar i think hughie might need some calming down" butcher says, you nod before sucking butchers cock with even more determination and taking it down the base making you gag a little.

as his tip repeatedly grazes the back of your throat he pulls out you mouth and sprays his cum all over your face "you look better like this" he smiles before pushing you hughies way, as you crawl towards hughie you can see him get more and more nervous, as you sit in between his legs he looks down at you with blushing cheeks and fidgeting hands.

"hughie let the nice man help you unwind" butcher says "o- okay" he gulps as his trembling hands fail to unbuckle his pants, you hold his hands before moving them away and doing it yourself and watching his dick fall out, his tip soaked with pre cum before he watches you swallow his cock with no gag as he dissolves into pleasure.

he covers his mouth to silence the moans that dare come out and interrupt the important meeting, he admires how you work miracles on his dick with no effort it feels so good he thinks he sees stars for a minute before returning back to earth as he feels his climax approach and next thing he knows he's cumming in your mouth, you pull off his cock and some of his cum drips down your chin, he moves his hand to wipe it off your chin and as he does you pull his finger into your mouth and lick the cum off his finger.

he watches you with lustful eyes "whats the matter you act like you've never gotten your dick sucked" butcher joke nudging him breaking him out his trance in your eyes "never like that" he shudders watching you move too soldiers boys dick "hey there darling" he says as you move between his legs "be quick okay" he said before you nodded and took his huge dick into your mouth struggling to even get to the base "relax your throat" he suggests seeing you struggle makes him smirk.

you pull off his cock to take a breather before going back to working on his dick, getting halfway and relaxing your throat to take him all in with a choked gag "yeah just like that good boy" he says in a hushed tone while patting your head "you want me to cum in your mouth" he asks, you nod "well be warned i cum a lot" he warns but you didn't care you just wanted to feels his cum flood you throat, after a few more seconds soldier boy pushes your head down on his dick and begins flooding your mouth with his cum.

you struggle to swallow every drop but with some degrading but sweet words from him you manage and get it all down with a big gulp "you're the first to ever get it all down" he says surprised "thank you sir" you say "homelander keep this one around i like him" he says watching you crawl back to homelander while admiring your ass jiggle "oh ill be sure too" homelander responds as you nuzzle up against his leg.

[skiiyoomin]

i beg you to write some tobias eaton jealousy smut where he gets all possesive and shit

⤑Back to navigation

Content: SMUT CONTENT, possessiveness, swearing, fem reader, slight tease Tobias, dirty talk? little tiny bit of degradation (he calls you a slut)

Summary: Tobias had to show exactly who you belong to

a/n possesive tobias makes me feralll, also the plot is boring as hell but i geniuenly couldnt come up with something else

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

ღNeed | Tobias Eaton

You're beatiful, that's a fact. Tobias knew it, everyone at Dauntless did. He always felt lucky and greatful to have ended up with you, and he always made sure to remind you of that fact.

However, like everything, there was a downside. People at Dauntless had a tendency for....boldness. Of course that was a given, I mean, it's literally their nature to be bold. But there were times Tobias wished people weren't so bold.

Often times he'd catch people staring at you a little longer than necessary. Other times they'd straight up attempt to flirt with you, but you quickly shut down their advances. However, there's always going to be some idiot who doesn't understand what no means. Like right now.

You were at a party and of course, as expected of Dauntless, everything was absolutely wild. You were having a great time and, surprisingly, so was Tobias. As expected, you had caught the eyes of many in your black silk dress that night and while he felt slightly uneasy at this, who were they to blame really, you did look stunning after all.

At one point, he unwrapped his arm from your waist and excused himself to the bathroom. When he came back, what he saw had him clenching his jaw and curling his hands into fists. A random guy was towering over you, leaning a bit too close for comfort, your face clearly showed discomfort, which had Tobias immediately coming to your side.

"Are you ok darling? Is he bothering you?" He glared at the man as he asked the question, his gaze softening when he glanced back down at you. You meekly nodded, wanting nothing more than to be left alone with your lover.

"Oh come one babygirl don't play hard to get, we were having fun" The man reeked of alcohol making his nose twitch in disgust. His grip on your waist tightened. "She's clearly taken, so I would back off if I were you"

The man merely glanced at him before he drifted his attention back to you, continuing his advances. Tobias stepped in front of you, pushing a finger into the mans chest. "I said back off" He seethed.

Before he could answer, Tobias grabbed your hand and walked towards the door with a fast pace, leaving you no choice but to follow. Once you were walking down the empty hallways of the compound, you reached up to place your hand on his tense shoulders. Hesitantly, you called out to him.

"..Tobias?"

You were answered with silence, and while you questioned the unusual behaviour, you decided to keep quiet, not wanting to cause further tension.

Before you knew it, you were at the door of your shared apartment. As soon as the door closed, Tobias had you pressed up against the wall, his lips kissing yours in fervour. You were absolutely breathless, your mind going blank at the feeling of his hands roaming your body.

He seperated from your lips, though only a mere centimeters. He gazed deep into your eyes, his own half lidded ones holding a dark lustful gaze. "You're mine" He growled. His low tone sent shivers down your spine, your breath hitching in your throat.

He picked you up with ease, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he manuvered with ease through the house and to your bed. Gently he plopped you down and crawled on top of you, his toned arms caging you under him. His lips were back on yours, the tension rising as his hands roam your curves. Your shirt rode up with the movements and in one swift movement it was off, leaving you in your bra. His lips began to move down, leaving lingering kisses on your jaw and neck. You let out a breathy moan when he kisses the crevice of your neck. When he pulled back, he admired the series of hickeys decorating your neck.

With expertise, he unclipped your bra, throwing it to the side. Similarly to your neck, he began to spread hickeys wherever he could. Your back arched when his warm mouth enveloped your sensitive nipple, the other teased between his thumbs. "Mmm Tobias" You breathed out, your hands on the back of his head, messing up his brown locks. He continued giving his attetion to your chest, switching between one nipple and the other until you were writhing underneath him.

"Please Tobias, I need it"

You whined, but he only seemed to want to tease you.

"Need what baby? Use your words"

"Fuck please, i- i need your cock"

That's all he needed to hear for him to remove the rest of your clothes as well as his own onto the pile on the floor. He placed his hands under your knees, spreading your legs until you were wide open for him. The sight of your wet cunt made his dick twitch, a groan errupting from his throat at the sight. "Fuck baby you're already so wet for me, can't wait for this cock to fill you up hm?"

You nodded frantically, wanting to be filled up to the brim. You grinded your hips, needing to feel friction on your throbbing pussy. He leaned forward, pressing your legs to your chest as he lined up with your needy hole. Without any warning, he slammed into you, causing a loud moan to rip from you.

"I'm gonna show everyone who you belong to, who fucks you so hard you can't walk properly like a needy little slut"

You whined at the filthy words, but before you could even react, he was already slamming his hips into your ass, the dirty sounds of squelching filling the room.

He lifted your hips a little bit, allowing him to reach places you didn't know existed. Your head fell back onto the mattress, your jaw hung open while the most pornographic mewls left your mouth. He grunted at the feeling of your walls tightening around his dick, your nails scratching his back adding to the feeling of pleasure.

Soon enough your back arched, your moans rising in pitch and your words turned into gibberish as you felt your orgasm reach its peak. Tobias quickened his pace, feeling his own release coming close.

"o-ooh my god f-fuck i'm gonna cum"

"cum for me baby"

With a couple more thrusts you were cumming all over his cock, your body jerked uncontrollably. Not long after he released his seed inside you, using your overstimulated hole to chase his high.

When you finally caught your breath, you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips "That was good"

He pressed kisses all over your face before looking at you with a smirk "Don't think I'm done with you"

[mvnsvn6]

Have a mini fic about Steve annotating books and Eddie finding it really hot🖤

So obviously, Eddie's a bookworm. Before he had any friends, he spent the better parts of his childhood at Hawkins Library after school and Hawkins Middle's library during any recesses and lunches. He constantly read books, this was before Wayne got him a guitar and before he got into dnd, and being a bookworm tremendously helped him fuel both of those hobbies later on. But before then? The library was like a second home to him. 

And so, recently founding out that Steve reads, like a lot, is something of a revalation. It's not that Eddie thinks the guy is stupid, but he figured the guy spent time doing other productive hobbies at home. But the guy reads, and as previously mentioned, Eddie considers himself a literature connoisseur of sorts. Writing book reports and essays were one of the few things he actually excelled at in high school. 

So anyway, he found out that Steve is a book nerd by finding one of Steve's books open on his bed. Not really the strangest thing that Eddie's come across in Steve's room if he's being honest, and not the biggest indicator of nerdiness, until he focuses his attention and acknowledges the bright colors sprawled across the pages. 

A burst of rainbow colors underlining what Eddie guesses are his favorite parts of the story or important stuff he wanted to remember. And obviously, Eddie has to ask him about it. and Steve explains to him that he has a whole color key and it's made up of romantic lines that make him feel warm, sad stuff that makes him tear up, stuff that is word for word undoubtedly Steve Harrington sprawled on a page. Steve won't tell him which color is which, too embarrassed by it, but he lets Eddie read through them, and then he stares at Steve in unyeilding fondness. 

The look reflected on Steve's is not the same, mostly anxiety and insecurity, which Eddie immediately wants to soothe. It's so so sweet he thinks but Eddie's mouth translates the words into, "That's so fucking hot." Which, shit man, it is but he hadn't meant to say it out loud. 

"Shut up, dude, don't make fun of me right now." 

And listen, books are everything to him, this is no joking matter. They inspire his own stories, whether through a dnd campaign or writing song lyrics. It's honestly probably the most attractive thing a person could do in Eddie's opinion, he didn't know how hot until right about now, but he'll die on this hill. Annotating your books is hot. 

"Listen to me when I say this Steve, while that is the nerdiest thing I've ever heard and I'm, ya know, me. It's also about the most attractive thing that's come out of that pretty mouth of yours, like ever."

And Steve folds his arms across his fucking beautifully sculpted chest and narrows his eyes just slightly, raising a judgemental eyebrow at him. 

"You're being serious."

Oh he's never been more serious about anything in his life. 

"Uh...yeah? Yes. Oh my god."

Yeah, real eloquent Edward. 

Whatever, his heart is pounding profuesely against his rib cage because holy shit Steve is a book nerd and Eddie wants to kiss him fucking yesterday. So he gets on all fours on Steve's bed to lean forward and basically attacks his mouth before he can even think about it. 

And when he pulls back, Steve's pupils are blown wide and his breath has picked up pace, and Steve keeps bouncing between looking at Eddie's eyes and his lips. 

"You just kissed me."

It comes out disbelieving. 

"Yeah and with your permission I'd like to continue, like stat, immediately, now."

"You're insane."

And hands weave through curls and pull. 

Eddie tumbles foward, ending fully sprawled on top of Steve, and, jesus christ, body pressed impossibly close to his. 

And after they're romantic, read: nerdy horniness, little makeout session, he forces Steve to read the annotations himself, going through all the books that are important to Steve. He has to stop himself from moaning to really emphasize how hot he finds it, and to make Steve slightly embarrassed, but refrains. Just lets him continue. 

Eddie has never been so in love in his life.

[bkgml]

“i want you” part 2!!

part 1

katsuki wakes up late.

feeling his girl wrapped in his arms, he peels open his swollen eyes.

you’re still asleep, still peaceful. it’s as if you have no idea what happened the night before.

and he wants you to stay this peaceful. even if it’s just for awhile longer.

“hey man, you okay?” kirishima asks as katsuki exits his bedroom.

katsuki looks awful, and he knows it.

“memory’s back.” he mumbles, grabbing the coffee pot from kirishimas hand.

he feels a hand patting his back.

“howd she take it?”

katsuki answers with nothing but a sigh, heavy with sorrow.

“i’m sorry.” kirishima says.

“i don’t know what to do.” katsuki whispers.

he can feel tears in his eyes but he refuses to let them fall.

“go see her. enjoy the last moments you have with her.” kirishima responds.

katsuki nods slowly.

on shaky legs, he inches towards his bedroom.

he opens the door and you’re still sleeping soundly.

he inhales deeply before shutting the door and taking one last look at kirishima. kirishima sends an awkward wave and a smile his way while watching the door close.

katsuki turns to you and watches you stir slightly as he climbs into bed.

wrapping his warm arms around your waist and pulling the blanket higher on your bodies, kisses your face softly before finally taking a deep inhale of your hair and falling asleep.

“why is this happening? we love each other isn’t that enough for them?!” your voice, muffled and filled with anguish reaches katsuki’s ears behind the closed doors.

he frowns, burying himself deeper into the comfort of your scent on his sheets.

“i know. the commission does what they want though. they can’t have the number 2 heroes girl go missing, then no civilians will feel safe.” kirishima reasons.

“he keeps me safe! don’t they have any trust in him?! if they trust him enough to do his job then they can stay the fuck out of my business!” you yell and katsuki hears your voice break.

jumping out of bed and opening his door he sees you crying with your face in your hands and kirishima awkwardly standing to the side.

katsuki engulfs you in his arms and you fist his shirt.

“don’t cry, sweetness. they’re not worth it.” he says, rubbing your back.

“you’re worth it. we’re worth it katsuki, don’t you get that?” you look up at him with furrowed brows.

he threads his fingers through your hair and looks at you softly.

“of course i get that.” he says, kissing your forehead.

you tuck your face into his chest and sob quietly.

kirishima paces the room in distress.

“i don’t know what to do. i don’t know how to help you guys.”

you and katsuki look up from your spot on the couch, you in his lap and his arms caging you in.

katsuki hears a small whimper of defeat from beside him and he shushes you, pressing small kisses to your face.

you look to him, tears filling your eyes.

“are you going to kick me out?” you whisper, hand clutching his shirt.

“don’t worry about that right now. we’re going to fix this i promise.” he says, reaching his hand behind your head and pulling you closer to him.

the three of you spend the day inside, ordering food and discussing plans to propose a deal with the commission.

katsuki looks over at you, eyes drooping and your face resting in the palm of your hand.

he reaches for your thigh and you perk up a little, eyes meeting his.

“go take a nap, okay? i’ll be right here when you wake up.” he assures you.

you rest your head on his shoulder.

“you promise?” you ask meekly, hand reaching out for his.

he squeezes your hand and thigh in affirmation.

pressing his forehead to your temple, he nods against your head.

“go sleep.” he says softly.

“yeah yn, you deserve a good rest right now.” kiri chimes in with a smile.

you nod and hug katsuki before walking to his bedroom and sending a wave to the two of them.

the men continue talking and you fall asleep quickly in katsuki’s bed.

you open your eyes and look to the clock, 4:00am.

you smile as you feel katsuki’s arms tighten around your waist.

turning in his grip, you admire his peaceful face.

“i love you more than anything.” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his nose.

peeling your eyes open, you admire the chirps of birds outside katsuki’s open window.

6:30am.

you don’t feel katsuki beside you so you stretch a little before swinging your legs over the bed and walking towards the door.

as you open it, you hear the lack of chatter between the two men and see the empty apartment.

“…kats?” you call into the open air.

“katsuki??” you say walking into the empty kitchen and pacing.

“katsuki? kirishima?” you call more urgently, practically running into the living room.

“kats?!” you call, voice breaking.

you’re panting now, hyperventilating. he wouldn’t leave you like this. not this way.

“baby?? hey. i heard you calling for me.” katsuki says, jogging into his living room.

you whine, running to him.

“katsuki.” you whimper, jumping into his arms, limbs wrapped around him tightly.

“hey. hey. what’s wrong?” he soothes, eyes and hands running over your body to check if anything’s physically wrong.

“where were you?” you sputter.

“i thought you left me again. you promised you’d be at the table when i woke up.” you cry, pressing grateful kisses over his face between your words.

he walks you over to the couch, sitting with you in his lap.

“i’m sorry, sweetness. i had to pee. kirishima went to get us breakfast.” he says, running his hands over your arms.

“i thought-“ you hiccup.

“i thought you left me. i’m being so irrational.” you says through tears.

“i’m not leaving you. never again. i promise.” he says, his own eyes a little teary.

he kisses you sweetly until your tears stop.

“do you wanna take a shower before kirishima gets back?” he says softly against your lips.

you nod in reply and he takes you to the shower. where he shampoos your head for you and drags a loofa over your skin, pressing kisses over your skin in the process.

by the time the two of you are done, freshly cleaned and in new clothes. kirishima has breakfast laid out for the three of you.

“hey guys. let’s eat!” he says cheerily, sitting down and digging in.

the three of you eat together, finally laughing just like old times.

after you finished eating, you all joined together to wash, dry and put away the dishes, still laughing.

“should we watch tv?” kirishima asks and katsuki nods, the two of them starting to walk to the living room.

you stand still, confused.

“but what about making a plan for the commission?” you ask.

they turn back to look at you.

katsuki reaching his hand out and kirishima grinning.

“we made the plan before bed last night.” kirishima says, grin never faltering.

you hesitate, confused. but eventually take katsuki’s hand anyway. watching tv with them until sundown.

“you’re tired.” katsuki says, watching you stifle a yawn.

you shake your head in protest but lean forward to rest your head on his chest anyways.

you yawn again and he grins.

“sleepy girl.” he teases.

“no… no i’m not.” you mumble sleepily.

he pats your arms before standing, forcing your head to fall back onto the couch.

you groan, trying to get comfortable again.

“come on. kirishimas already asleep. let’s go sleep.” he says, soothing your protests and lifting you over his shoulder.

you look to your red headed friend and seeing that he is-in fact asleep.

katsuki pushes kirishimas head until his falls onto the other end of the couch, allowing him to lie down with only the slightest bit of uncomfortableness.

“night kiri.” you say slowly, tiredly. as you watch over him from your spot on katsuki’s shoulder.

“alright. there you go.” katsuki says, placing you down on his bed. the bed that’s been your home for the last three days.

“come.” you whine, making the slightest grabby hands at him.

he laughs, climbing into bed with you.

you shuffle close to him and wrap yourself completely around him. giving him no chance of escape. not that he wants to, he’s perfectly happy in the prison of your warm limbs.

“missed you.” you say quietly, tracing his face with your finger. as gently as you can, following the curve of his nose and lips, his cheekbones and brushing up his hair to see his cute forehead.

“missed your face.” you whisper, eyes meeting his.

he looks perfectly content.

“missed you too, sweets. you and your face.”

you hum, tucking your face into his neck to place warm kisses to his collarbones and allowing your hand to slip under his shirt to trace his chest and his abs.

“are you nervous about tomorrow..?” you ask, eyes refusing to meet his.

he brings his own hand up his sweater that you’re wearing to trace your spine slowly, the rhythm making your eyes flutter closed.

“no. me and kirishima made a great plan. it’s gonna work.” he says firmly, hoping to convince you.

you release a shaky breath. worry evident in your tone you ask,

“but what if it doesn’t?”

“hey guys! i didn’t hear you go to bed last night.” kirishima says, greeting the two of you with a fresh pot of coffee.

“yeah? that’s cause you were conked out before 8.” katsuki retorts and you giggle.

kirishima laughs too and pours three cups of coffee for the three of you to enjoy.

“alright guys. todays the day.” kirishima announces.

katsuki nods, taking a sip from his mug. and you tap your fingers on your own mug.

“so why don’t i know of this plan?” you ask, finger tracing the rim before you take a sip.

the two men look at each other.

“cause i like teasin you. making you nervous.” katsuki grins, mischievously.

you groan. glaring at him.

“it’s working a little too well. don’t i need to do anything to prepare? anything i can help with?” you say.

“you have to go back to your apartment and get dressed in clothes other than mine.” katsuki replies, pinching the baggy arm of his sweatshirt your body.

you laugh but a question plagues your mind.

“you aren’t gonna come with me..?” you ask.

he cups your face and you lean into his hand.

“the press would be broadcasting a sighting of the two of you before we’d get a chance to even talk to the commission.” kirishima answers, face apologetic.

you huff but you understand.

“you’re gonna meet us at the commissions office at noon, okay?” katsuki says as he bids you farewell at the door.

you nod. his arms are around your waist and you don’t want to leave them. you know it’s silly, but you just got him back. you don’t want to risk never getting held by him like this again.

“promise this plans going to work.” you say, holding out your pinky as a silent request.

he rolls his eyes before linking his pinky with yours.

“so childish.” he says.

you step onto your tippy toes and press your lips to his as a farewell.

you press all your emotions into him while your lips move together slowly.

“noon.” you confirm as you pull away.

he nods, releasing his arms from around you.

“bye kirishima.” you say, hugging him right.

“bye yn. see you there.” he replies.

you step out the door and begin your walk to your apartment.

*incoming call from ‘katsu’*

“hi, suki. i’m walking into my apartment building right now.” you said calmly.

“have you seen the news??” he asks, a little panicked.

your brows pull together in confusion, your step pattern faltering slightly.

“…no, why?”

your phone dings as a new message comes in.

10:14am

katsu: ARTICLE: pro hero dynamites ex girlfriend last seen wearing men’s clothing while exiting his apartment building. have the two come together once more?

“shit.” you say, palm coming to cover your mouth.

“what does this mean, will the commission still meet with us?” you ask nervously.

“i hope so. just focus on getting there, okay?” he replies and the two of you say your goodbyes and hang up.

standing outside the commissions office, you feel dread creeping up the back of your neck.

“we’re gonna be okay.” katsuki assures you.

“yeah yn, our plan is gonna work.” kiri chimes in.

the three of you walk into the building together and you grab katsuki’s hand.

as he looks at you, he feels the need to protect you and shield you from these people.

you feel his grip tighten on your hand and you smile up at him with an unsure look on your face.

“don’t show them you’re scared.” he whispers lowly to you.

you nod in reply and straighten your back a little more, lift your chin a little higher.

you all walk through the corridors and your head goes fuzzy, you know you see katsuki talking to the receptionist and you know you watch as the commission greets you all coldly but it’s like you’re not even there at all.

you stand in that office across from the conference table of people for hours as katsuki and kirishima argue with them.

finally, katsuki is fed up and slams his fist on the table, silencing everyone.

you come out of your trance then and hear the quiet murmurs of the commission and katsuki’s heavy breathing.

“if you people don’t get your shit together and stay the fuck out of my business. i’m quitting.”

you gasp, eyes flying towards him in protest but he puts his hand up to shush you.

you watch as the commission attempts to mask their shock and play it off.

“please. you wouldn’t quit. and besides, even if you did we still have plenty of hero’s. the world doesn’t need dynamite.” someone retorts.

you feel white hot anger bubbling up through your veins but katsuki and kirishima don’t seem fazed.

“then i’ll quit too.” kirishima says.

you hear noises from outside in the hallway before the door opens.

“and i’ll quit too.” mina says, stepping into the room.

“same here.” kaminari says.

“i will also quit.” todoroki nods.

suddenly you see around 20 hero’s walking through the door, all announcing they’re quitting.

finally, izuku, the number one hero steps into the room.

“and i’ll quit too.” he declares.

the whole conference table of commission members shift uncomfortably in their seats.

“WE DID IT!!” kirishima screams.

the whole sidewalk of pro hero’s erupt in cheers and hollers.

some hug you, others pat katsuki on the back.

you feel overjoyed and jump into katsuki’s arms, the two of you sharing a kiss.

“let’s go home.” katsuki says.

you nod quickly, dropping back onto the ground.

while you’re sitting in bed that night, there’s increased touches and sweet kisses shared between you.

“i love you more than anything.” you whisper while being held tight in his arms.

“not as much as i love you.” he grins, arms tightening around you and he kisses your temple.

“i guess we should thank that villain that took away your memory, huh?” you say giggling.

he rolls his eyes playfully before biting your nose.

“just go to bed.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Hold My Hand

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: When you receive unwanted attention on a weekend staycation with your friends, a knight in a shining navy suit saves you by offering his hand.

Warnings: creepy guy doesn't understand 'no' and continues making unwanted advances, but Tim saves the day. angst to fluff (I guess?)

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

When your friends invited you out for a girls’ weekend, you were expecting a spa retreat or a cottage at the beach, not a penthouse in Los Angeles. More than that, you didn’t expect them to pick one of the sleaziest restaurants you’ve ever seen to spend their Friday night. Luckily – if there is a ‘luckily’ in this situation – you found a quiet corner on the rooftop. Your friends are downstairs, huddled around the bar as they look for rich, single men. It doesn’t exactly seem like the breeding ground for that type of man, though.

“Good evening, gorgeous,” a deep voice says behind you.

Assuming they’re talking to someone else, you ignore them, keeping your attention on the railing around the roof’s edge.

“Hey, ‘m talking to you,” he adds.

When his hand lands on your upper arm, forcefully turning you toward him, you truly begin regretting coming on this trip.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim feels like an animal in a zoo enclosure. Wearing a suit that isn’t his, in a place he’d rather never see again, with a few too many pairs of eyes blatantly watching him. 

Two hours ago, he was sitting in the station, minutes away from getting to go home. Now he, Lucy, and Angela are undercover in a known mafia club. While the women in the restaurant stare at Tim, the men try to catch Lucy and Angela’s attention.

Sighing, Tim checks his watch. He’s been in one place too long with no sign of their target.

“I’m gonna go check the roof, see if our target’s up there,” Tim tells Lucy.

“The roof?” she asks.

“Yeah, the bar.”

“There’s a bar on the roof?!” 

“We’re in Los Angeles, boot, of course there’s a bar on the roof. Angela, keep her close.”

Angela nods, and if Lucy wasn’t already a little creeped out by the men standing across the room, she would be offended.

Tim gets in the elevator, leaning against the wall once the doors are closed. The rooftop bar, however, is full of people who are somehow more intimidating than the ones inside. Looking around, Tim doesn’t see the target or any of his known associates. What he does see, though, is a situation that he shouldn’t get involved in, yet he can’t look away.

✯✯✯✯✯

The man beside you cannot take a hint. You slowly back away until his hand falls from your arm, and one of your legs slides off the barstool. When your foot hits the floor, you stand and keep the seat between you.

“C’mon, gorgeous, ‘s jus’ a question,” he slurs. “Yes or no?”

“I said no,” you repeat firmly.

He doesn’t like your answer, though, and you try to hide your flinch when he slams his glass down on the bar.

“You here alone?”

You glance around, hoping you see someone who looks trustworthy enough to hide with. But you don’t see anyone who fits the bill.

“No,” you answer. “My friends are downstairs.”

“Just friends?”

He leans closer, his arm moving to cage you on one side. Inhaling sharply, you try to think of a way to escape this situation without making it worse or drawing more unwanted attention.

✯✯✯✯✯

“We’ve got nothing,” Angela says in Tim’s earpiece. “Anything up there?”

“No,” Tim answers.

“We’re leaving then. Can’t do anything without him here.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll catch up.”

“What?” Lucy asks.

“I’ve got to do something first. I’ll see you at the station tomorrow. Call if you need anything.”

Tim removes the earpiece, switching it off as he drops it into his blazer pocket. Moving quickly across the rooftop, he doesn’t realize that he doesn’t have a real plan.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey,” another voice says beside you. “I was wondering where you got off to. What’s going on here?”

You glance over, and your shoulders drop when you see how clean-cut and trustworthy he looks. Given your current situation, you’re glad to see a man who isn’t clearly a predator, but you try not to think about how low the bar is.

“Hi,” you reply. “I was trying to come back, but, uh, got caught up.”

Widening your eyes slightly, you try to communicate that you are not here by choice.

“Give her some room, man.”

The creep leans back enough that you can move, and you rush to your savior’s side.

“And next time a woman tells you ‘no,’ you’d do well to listen,” he adds darkly, letting you hide behind his shoulder.

“Whatever. She jus’ doesn’t know what she wants.”

A kind hand turns you around, and the man whispers, “I’m Tim.”

You tell him your name, flinching when glass shatters behind you.

“Hold my hand,” Tim says, spreading his fingers between you as he looks over his shoulder.

Without hesitation, you interlace your fingers with his. He pulls you close as the elevator opens. Once you’re alone, neither of you releases your grip on the other’s hand.

“Thank you,” you breathe out. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I hate that I had to jump in, but you’re welcome. Are you okay? Did he touch you?”

You shake your head, looking down at your joined hands.

“Do you really have friends downstairs?��

“I have… acquaintances that I will never be going on vacation with again.”

“Vacation? You’re not from here?”

“That’s the funny part. We all live here, so imagine my surprise when the weekend getaway was twenty minutes from my house.”

“Sounds like you need new friends.”

You hum before asking, “Who are you here with?”

“For work.”

At your confused glance, Tim raises his blazer to reveal a badge.

That must be why he helped you.

The door opens, and you pull your hand from his.

“Thanks for helping me, officer. Have a great night.”

Tim watches as you disappear into the crowd, stepping out of the elevator confused and surprisingly upset. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he calls the only person he can think of. 

“No questions, Angela. I helped a girl get away from a guy who didn’t understand ‘no.’ As soon as she saw the badge she disappeared. Something was happening before that-“

“Timothy,” Angela sighs. “She thinks you did it out of duty then let her flirt with you. Find her and ask her out, anything to show that you did it for her and not because of some twisted savior complex.”

“Thanks, Lopez.”

Ending the call, Tim heads toward the bar. He thinks that’s where groups of girls on vacation probably hang out. When the bar comes into view, he has no problem finding you, like the brightest light in a dark room.

“Nothing happened, I just went to the roof for a while,” you insist.

“No, you had that glow thing. You met a guy.”

“Maybe I did but he wasn’t interested.”

“Don’t drag me into this if you’re not going to tell the story right,” Tim says, approaching your side.

“Tim?” you ask, turning toward him.

Your body language with him compared to the man upstairs, even how you interact with the women you're here with, differs vastly. Squared to him and completely open, you’re practically inviting him to do something.

“I didn’t do it because I thought I had to. I was off the clock, not that it matters. My motivation may have been pure, just to help, at first, but then you held my hand and I never wanted to let go.”

“Can we…” you pause as you look around. “Can we please not do this here?”

“As long as we do it now.”

Tim offers his hand, and you nod as you take it. Leading you through the crowd, Tim keeps you close. Exiting onto the noisy Los Angeles street, Tim turns toward you.

“I could tell you needed help, or wanted it at least,” Tim explains. “But I don’t want this to end here. I- your hand fits in mine.”

“Please don’t tell me that means we’re soulmates or something.”

Tim smiles, and you forget why you were upset in the elevator.

“I’m Tim Bradford,” he introduces, shaking your already joined hands. “I am a cop, but not with you. With you, I think I could be the man I’d like to be.”

“Romantic,” you murmur.

“I know. It’s scaring me a little. You can’t tell my friends, okay?”

“As long as we don’t tell mine either.”

“So, you’re willing to try?”

“I mean, where else am I going to find a knight in a shining navy suit?” you ask, leaning closer. “As long as your hand stays in mine, I’m willing to try.”

[honeymaze]

nothing but the two of us

bad days are a constant to him, but your presence is, thankfully, a constant as well.

❤️‍🔥 homelander x supe!fem!reader | established relationship, graphic mentions of dark content (violence, death, reader isn’t the best person out there either), hurt/comfort, reader’s powers aren’t specified (nor does she “work” as a supe), no plot/slice of life

note: hey! just an angsty drabble to open this new blog. hope you guys like it!

-

There is a thick mist glazing over the city as he arrives at his place, just a little before the setting sun takes shelter behind the skyline. Homelander is beyond exhausted, as he usually is, and he feels like the weight on his shoulders might be a little too heavy for him to handle. There aren’t powers in the world that can soften the blow of being paraded around like a caged animal for an entire day — photographed, talked to relentlessly, groped — and there’s nothing he can’t do but endure it.

It’s a divine joke, really. That he is much stronger than everyone else, and yet he has to settle for this game of pretend. They take everything from him, and he scrapes for all the compliments and looks of awe that he can get. But even that is starting to get old.

“Let me guess, bad day?” Your voice breaks his thoughts. He finds you instantly, wearing only an oversized shirt and taking a sip from your coffee. “You look like you’re about to lazer through me.”

He clicks his tongue. “Doesn’t work, remember?” Homelander tries to play it off. You don’t buy it. He sighs and crosses his arms. “Bad day, horrible. Ashley should be grateful that she isn’t in a coffin right now, I’ve already — I’ve already told her how much I hate these stupid interviews.”

You smile, putting your cup down. The act alone makes something stir up inside him. “Vought magazine, right?”

He rolls his eyes. “They couldn’t come up with an original name and they want me to pretend like I care.”

“I don’t know how you manage,” your sarcasm is lost on him, for he only sighs and nods vigorously. “But come on. You’re with me now, magazine be damned. We should enjoy our night.”

“Stupid fucking animals — primates, all of them,” Homelander continues to complain, turning his back to you. He places his hands on his hips and looks over the city that expands just beyond his window. “I could kill all of them with one blow.”

You come behind him, giggling at his hissy fit. John is such a manchild, you can’t take these comments seriously (even if you’ve seen enough proof that they’re not only vacant threats).

“Baby, I know that. They know that. That’s why they love and respect you so much,” you reason. Your arms wrap around his waist and Homelander tenses — then relaxes, melting into your touch. You rest your cheek against his broad back, the vague scent of ashes and blood dancing in your nose. Even if he cleans it, you can still catch it: magazine interviews weren’t everything he did today. But you won’t pry, you don’t really care that much. “If Ashley pushes you through another interview, she’ll have to answer to me. And I’m much meaner and harder to please.”

That manages to tear a laugh from him. “Glad you know that.” He turns around and runs one hand through your hair. His blue eyes went from a dark storm to a calm sea, always a good sign that you’re managing to get to his rational (softer) side. “Thank you.”

You smile and kiss him briefly. In your mind, there’s a clear distinction between Homelander and John, and when you manage to make him click out of his “super-better-than-you” mindset, you’ve won.

The next hour passes by in a routine that you’ve grown used to — a warm shower, the brief cleaning of fast-healing wounds, a passing comment about the sprinkles of blood in his blonde hair. There’s an unspoken knowledge between the two of you about the true nature of the man standing before you and, just as clearly, the notion that you don’t mind it. Maybe that’s why Homelander enjoys your company so much: you don’t judge, you don’t care. He doesn’t know if you look down on non-supes as much as he does, but the bottom line is that you don’t care enough about a few casualties that manage to brighten his day. And that’s enough for him.

“And they were able to cover up that alley situation, right?” You ask randomly as he turns off the shower. John scoffs. “I mean, yeah, I know they always do, but usually things don’t go that south. Starlight looked like she was in shock when I saw her enter the building.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

But it was. The alley situation in question was a mission that the seven were assigned to last week — something about bombs and gun traffic at the dark corners of the city. It was supposed to be a clean-cut mission: get in, neutralize the threat, look for victims, get out. There was one aggravating factor, however: Homelander was having the worst day in weeks, and you were out of town. One thing led to another and at some point the mission turned from “stopping the evil men” to “controlling the unhinged Homelander before he blew up an entire neighborhood”. The destruction was so massive that it was easy to pass it off as a massive bomb activation, but a few surrounding cameras told a different story. The devil works hard but Vought works harder — though, it’s hard to stop a video from spreading after it’s uploaded somewhere.

“Just wanna know if they asked you about it during the interview, that’s all,” you say, reaching for the towels. You could say that you’ve seen it stir up quite the frenzy online, but you knew better than that. As much as you were able to calm down John from a few hissy fits, you knew that the public hatred was stronger than a few soothing words from your end. “I know you always answer the right things and I—“

“So there’s nothing to worry about,” he interrupts. “I don’t know how you can just walk around and live like one of these… worms. Makes me think that you like them more than your own kind.”

In the end, it always comes down to this little mind game: us or them. Homelander or the rest of the world.

“Well, first of all, I don’t think I have what it takes to be in the spotlight, I’m not as good as you,” you start off strong, with a caress to his ego. His blue eyes are frozen in place, staring deep inside your soul for any sign of lies. As much as he can’t lazer through your head, he could break your neck if he tried. And, once again, there’s a thin line between love and hate when it comes to him. “Second… I know my worth regardless of what I choose to do. It’s not because I work amongst non-supes that I see myself as one of them. I like what I do.” Your hand reaches out for his cheek, and he rests his head on your hand. “Besides, I already have everything I want right here. No supe or non-supe world could ever compete, so why even bother?”

Homelander’s eyes stay locked in for another second, not one line of expression on his face. He sighs and relaxes his shoulders, finally adverting his gaze. “I like having you home when I arrive,” is all he answers — in his words: I like you’re not out there when I need you.

“And I’ll always be home for you,” you say, smile growing on the corners of your lips.

He nods. For now, that’s enough.

[sailorrhansol]

Still Watching? | l.c (m)

❀ Pairing: Lee Chan x f. Reader 

❀ Summary: Blood and Popcorn with your newly minted boyfriend is your favorite. Except now you watch a lot less Buffy and a lot more of Chan. 

❀ Word Count: 2,153

❀ Genre: Established Relationship, PWP

❀ Type: Smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Shameless pwp, explicit language, explicit sexual content including nipple play, vaginal fingering, a little bit of teasing/edging, cheesy banter. 

❀ A/N: I am writing this as penance to @daechwitatamic to hold her over while I work on things that are not Lee Chan!! 

❀ A/N 2: This is the same couple from Blood & Popcorn but you do not need to read the first story to read this one :) 

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀

“Honestly, it is so obvious this show was written by a man,” You mutter, watching as Buffy yells at Zander. “He wants to be a hero for her soooo bad.”

“Xander is the worst,” Chan sighs. You rise and fall with his chest, your back pressed against his front where you lay against him. His knees cage you in on either side of your hips, your ass planted firmly between his legs with his arms around your middle, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “He really thinks he should win the girl just because he’s a nice guy.” 

“Truly, he has like… very few other qualities than being a nice guy.” 

He hums. “At least Spike knows he’s an asshole. It’s guys like Xander who think just because they’re not blatantly awful that it makes them dateable.” 

“A lot of guys think that.” 

“Mhmm. I’m a rare breed.” 

You crane your neck to look up at him. You can hear and feel the steady thud of his heart, smell the hint of aftershave and menthol from his shower earlier, feel the heat of his skin. It makes you a little dizzy and you unfocus on the screen, studying the gentle curve of Chan’s mouth. 

“You’re surely something,” you mutter in response, grinning a little as you look away toward the screen. His fingers slip under your shirt, skimming your waist. You suppress a shiver, suddenly hyper aware of the way his fingers scrape against you. 

“I’m a nice guy and I know that it takes more than being a decent human being to get the girl.”

“Oh yeah? Remember the time it took four years to confess your feelings to me? What do you know, Lee Chan?”

“Hmm. Data is insufficient. Need more evidence regarding that specific example.” 

For a moment, you’re unable to respond, lids fluttering as Chan continues to caress your lower stomach and hips. His touch is completely innocent, no suggestion that he intends anything. That he means anything. It’s a motion that is instinctual for him, so naturally to have his hands on you that it almost makes it worse. 

Just knowing how easy it is for him to love you never fails to surprise you. You don’t know how you never saw it before. 

Now it seems silly to have ever thought that Chan was anything less than in love with you. It’s in the way he naturally gravitates toward you in every room. It’s in the way he can be totally focused on something else, but his hand reaches out for you, not even really noticing that he’s seeking you out. It’s  in the way that you mold so perfectly into his chest, made to be there. 

“You don’t know your own data?” you shoot back eventually, snuggling a little closer to him. If you could crawl into his hoodie, you would. For now, this is fine. “Seems like you don’t know much.” 

“Hmm?” His fingers stop moving. You feel the question hum against you. “I don’t know much?” 

“Nope.”

Your heart starts to pick up. Chan’s fingers start stroking your skin again but you feel the difference. His blunt nails scrape across your skin, raising goosebumps on your arms. He skims his hands higher and back down, touch light over your ribs. Every time his fingers dance up your side, his reach goes a little higher. 

A tightness forms in your throat. You try to keep your breathing even and will yourself not to squeeze your thighs. You are pressed too close to him for him not to tell if you squirm. Chewing your lip, you stare at the screen totally unseeing. 

“Hm.” Chan’s deep hum hints at trouble. You feel your hands get clammy. “I think I know some things. Like for example…” He trails off for a moment, hand brushing under your left breast. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, fighting a twitch. “I know that your favorite color on me is green.” 

“Green is a good color on anyone.”

“I know that you like the feeling…” His hand skates low this time, fingers dancing dangerously against the waistband of your shorts. “Of high thread count sheets.”

You snort. “Everyone likes good sheets, Chan.” 

“Good sheets are important,” he agrees. You feel him trace his pointer finger back up with deadly accuracy, following the swell of your breast upward, skating so close to your nipple that you stop breathing. “Everything alright? You stopped breathing.”

“What?” you squeak. “Oh, yep. I am great.” 

“I don’t know, baby. Are you feeling well? You seem… warm.”

Chan presses his palm flat to your chest, fingers splayed wide. His palm is warm and rough, his touch igniting a fire inside of you. The heat spreads outward, licking at every one of your nerves and setting them ablaze. 

In an effort to ignore him, you lick your lips and say, “Never felt better. I like her boots.” 

His chuckle is low. Throaty. You’re barely holding it together, feeling the ache between your thighs at the firmness of his touch. “See, I don’t know a lot about women’s fashion. But I do know those are not boots. Just like I know you’re not paying attention to the show, Bambi.”

You blink and stare at the TV. Chan’s right. Buffy is in sneakers, though in your unfocused haze they had been blurry and looked like boots from a distance. You swallow down the dryness in your throat, Chan’s hand still pressed flat and warm against your chest. 

“I know that your heart is pounding,” Chan murmurs, voice barely audible as he presses his mouth by your ear. Your eyes flutter shut. “I know that you’re trying really hard not to squeeze those thighs.” 

“You can’t possibly know that.” 

To prove his statement true, Chan’s thumb brushes upward, skating gently over a nipple. On command, your thighs squeeze and you feel the shake of his laughter behind you. 

“I know everything about you, Bambi.” His voice brushes against you like his soft touch. You melt, feeling your weight sink into him further. “I know that you don’t share your food with anyone but me. I know that your favorite episode of Buffy is Hush. I know that you think Buffy should end up with Spike. I know that you are probably soaked right now because being caressed drives you crazy.” 

“Insufficient data,” you breathe. “I recommend research.” 

“You know what? Agreed.” 

Chan moves fast. His hand moves from your chest to between your legs, hands slipping under the waistband of your shorts and panties before you can blink. Your lips part, a breathy noise escaping you as Chan drags a slow finger up your sticky folds. 

“What do you know,” he observes. His fingers idly trail up and down your slit, making you twitch against him. “I was right. Do I win anything?” 

“I thought you said nice guys shouldn’t just win the girl.” 

Chan presses his fingers firmly to your clit, a ripple of pleasure ebbing through you. Your hips lift off the couch slightly but he pushes you back down into his lap, other hand looping around your waist to lock you to him. “Maybe I’m not that nice.”

Slowly, he starts to retract his hand. You whimper, both of your hands shooting to grab the wrist belonging to the hand between your legs. He pauses, fingers pressed between your folds. “You are nice!” 

“Oh?”

“Very nice. You’re my very nice, very sweet boyfriend.” 

“I see.” 

He doesn’t move his hand at all. The space is filled with the low hum of Buffy fighting vampires, the blue flash of the screen falling against your silhouettes, body to body as he holds you tight. You try to get control of your racing heart, but that’s never been easy around Chan.

He knows it.  

“Maybe you know some things,” you admit slowly. “Maybe I was wrong.”

Chan’s resounding chuckle is dangerous, but he slides his hand back down. You loosen your grip on his wrist but keep your hands resting on his forearm, feeling the muscle flex under your fingertips as his fingers resume their debauched exploration. 

“See, that’s another thing I know. I know you hate being wrong, so if you’re wrong… it was because you were doing so intentionally.”

His words fall on unlistening ears. You’re too worked up by the simple way he plays you, too focused on the way his fingers gently circle your clit, the perfect stimulation. Too distracted by the way he dips his head down to sweep his mouth across your throat in open-mouthed kisses. 

“I know you’re… not listening.” He stops and you let out a strangled sound, nails digging into his arms. He presses a wet kiss to your pulse point. “Didn’t think so.”

“Chan.” 

“Hmm?”

“Please don’t tease me.”

“Why not? You were teasing me.” 

You pout. He can’t see it, but you know he knows it’s there. “I like to tease you. I have to keep you humble.” 

A long moan slips from your lips and you tilt your head back to Chan’s shoulder when he presses a finger into your aching cunt. You feel yourself twitch around him, hips swiveling for more friction. 

“Humble? How are you ever going to keep me humble when this pussy gets this wet after I’ve barely touched you?”

Well that’s true. You don’t care, though, turning boneless as Chan strokes you with his fingers properly. It feels so good. Only he knows how to touch you like this, familiar with every button to press and every contour to mold to. 

Heat flushes your neck. Chan presses his lips against your cheek, working your cunt with his fingers as he holds you steadfast. It feels like you might suffocate, totally trapped against him. His skin and breath are hot against you, the air thick. He breathes out a groan when your hips buck upward, Chan dropping all pretext of teasing you.

“Like that,” he breathes, heavy. “Do it exactly how you like it.”

Another finger drives you wild. You fumble over his name, squeezing your eyes shut and meeting the quick strokes of his hand. His palm presses firmly against your clit, letting you grind yourself against him for the extra stimulation. 

You burn up. Briefly you wonder if this flash of euphoric heat is what Icarus felt before the fall. The thought is chased away from the intense pressure in your stomach as Chan presses up against that spot inside you, making stars burst behind your eyes.

“Wait - I’m gonna come in my shorts,” you whine, realizing you still have them on. “Chaaaan.”

“So come in them,” he says simply. “Research has revealed that you have a washer and dryer down the hall, baby. Go ahead.” 

“Fuuuuck.” 

“Come for me. I know you want to.” 

You do want to. A moment of static builds up, your thighs squeezing around his hand so hard he can’t move and then you’re coming around his fingers, your nails biting into the skin of his wrist. His grip across your waist is like iron, holding you to him as you come undone. 

Chan’s mouth presses gentle kisses on your jaw, muttering soft I love yous and fuck yeahs against your burning skin. The burning doesn’t stop, your body flushed with heat as you sink away from your orgasm, turning to molten metal and melting into his hold. 

He leaves you like that for a few minutes, thighs shaking around the hand still shoved between your legs, fingers pressed deep inside of you. It feels intimate, and you crane your neck, driven by the desire to kiss him. Chan’s lips are already there because he knew you would want his lips against yours. 

Just like he knows everything about you. 

Chan’s lips are soft and gentle. His tongue brushes against yours in a slow dance and you lean up into him more, desperate for him. He laughs into the kiss, letting you have your way until you’re panting, sweaty and out of breath again. 

You sag, head on his shoulder as you pant. “Your fingers are still in me.”

“Mhm.” He presses them in harshly, making you jolt. It earns a deep laugh from him. “Maybe we should call this Popcorn & Pussy instead. We’ve barely gotten through a full night of episodes since we started dating.”

“Are you aware you make the worst jokes?” You open your eyes and glance at the screen, only to find that the show has paused between episodes, asking if you’re still watching and if you want to continue. “Are you still watching? No, Buffy. I’m not.”

“No problem.” Chan pulls his hand from between your legs, the wet squelch making you whimper. “I have something else you can watch.” 

“Oh?” 

Chan kisses your temple sweetly before getting up, letting you fall back against the couch while he kneels on the couch and pulls your legs toward his face. You inhale deeply, watching as he looks up through long lashes, a smirk on his face. “Still watching, Bambi?” 

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[n3ptoonz]

OMG OKAY SO I JUST READ YOUR RECENT HEADCANONS WITH EARTHREALM BOYS AND HOW THEY'D REACT TO READER RIDING THEM AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH AND IT GOT ME THINKING

How would they react to reader pegging them HEHEHE 👁️👁️🙏

mk1 hcs: how the earthrealm guys react to pegging

sorry i took so long to get to this anon! life is on my asssss and kept getting random spurts of writers block but WE HERE

warnings: explicit, smut elements, fluff elements, sub men obviously, sphinx might have favs idk tho😹

Scorpion

When you suggested pegging for the first time, it intrigued him. He'd always been down to try something new, especially if you bring it to him since he does it more

Y'all would be reeallll slow in the beginning. Luckily you knew all about preparation and making sure he was relaxed and okay the whole time. It didn't take long for him to get used to it, and even take a liking

He'd prefer for it to be a regular thing after his looonngggg days after work. There's nothing he needs more than to either be treated with tender, love, and care or just straight filthy coitus with him seeing stars and his hair tangled to all hell

The first few times he was a shy boy, cute lil whimpers here and there. Now? Doesn't give a damn, he will be as vocal as he feels like. You're gonna be the one who wakes up with claw marks and bite marks in the morning

Sub-Zero

Huh? You want to what? Were you inside of his head or something? How'd you know he wanted you to absolutely mix his guts whenever he gives you attitude? Something ain't right

He only acts reluctant because he didn't wanna look eager, but the man was waiting for this moment. The second you suggested it he was like "okay i'll say yes after like the third time i gotta look cool." when whole time he wanted to fall to his knees and hug your thighs in agreement

Don't try to go slow the first few times. His patience is shorter than his temper, this mf is the most power bottom individual in the bedroom. After he's gotten used to it he'll 'allow' you to go the romantic route (he's such a lil bitch for it we love it)

He barks orders at you like you won't grab his face and give him a taste of his own medicine. One good time where you're hovering over him, a thumb on the inside of his cheek while he drools and you fuck him like your life depended on it. Mission success!

Smoke

He's the one who brought it to you. Any objections? I think tf not. He isn't saying it aloud, but his eyes are silently begging you to treat him like the town's whore

He likes both the romance and the pure filth. It's entirely up to you; he will never say no to anything you suggest. Fuck him like you're mad at him or go slow and steady while you kiss his jaw and play with his hair and sing his praises

Any and all positions available. If you can somehow prone this big boy, DO IT. He'd totally ride you too if you really down for the count. We are troopers around this bitch!

Sometimes it would concern you how rarely he tapped out, especially when shit was getting intense and didn't calm down for a while. If you were absolutely demolishing his ass, you'd see a pool of drool escaping his lips, his eyes glossed over, his whines and moans gradually getting louder, and when you asked if he was okay, he would nod and give you a thumbs up like he didn't just bust 3 times in a row

Johnny Cage

Every time I do any sexual hcs of this mf, I will continue to say he's a brat. I do not care. He's a fucking diva and will dare to bark orders at you too like you're not the one who brought it up

Y'all know that Meg the stallion lyric where she's like "no don't fuck me like that fuck me like this"? THATS HIS ASS. He KNOWS it'll piss you off but go one of two ways: you indeed do fuck him like that but added aggression, OR! you stop completely and pretend like you're gonna leave the room. Works every time

He thoroughly enjoys straight up sex over romantic sex, but every once in a while he indulges in popping champagne, throwing down rose petals, and playing sexy music in the back to set the mood. Ol dramatic ass

Remember how I said in my riding hcs that he records everything? Yeah. Even as far as come to you and be like "okay so like what if we sold these? i could cut your face out if you want-" and you're like !1!2? HOWEVER ik some of yall are FREEKIE FUCKS. If you say "fuck that leave my face in it", prepare to never need a job ever again

Kenshi Takahashi

Surprisingly is down with it. That's what #love does to a mf. He's like Kuai, anything you want you shall receive. If you wanna play around in that ass, say no more!

97% of the time wants to go slow and steady. He just loves looking at your face with the power of Sento while making love. Tell him how much you love and appreciate him and how he's doing so good for you and he'll instantly become the butter to your bread (like melting- ok y'all get it cool)

That 3%?? He would be on his knees and begging you to fuck the stress out of him. He's had such a tough week, just shove his head into the pillow and get to work!

If it's missionary just grip his neck, get real close to his face so he can feel your breath, and welcome him to pound town. All aboard the slut-Kenshi-out train

Raiden

Secretly a whore. The first green light into pegging territory, you could see his pearly browns sparkle in excitement and eagerness. He's relatively chill and calm about it at first because he didn't want to scare you away, but that's gone in an instant when you actually do the deed

Walks up to microphone Raiden...enjoys the prepping damn near more than the actual pegging. This pretty boy sure loves to see you break out the lubricant and gloves just so you can get him ready. Bro is on the edge of the bed swinging his feet while you have the most devious look in your eye

He's 50/50 on sensual nights vs getting down and dirty. Literally has zero preference, just spread him!

Back to how I said he's secretly a whore, sometimes he does subtle things that get you riled up throughout the day so you can take it out on him later. It's kinda funny sometimes cause he can be vocal but he's more shy than ever, but he'll break soon, trust

Liu Kang

Out of everyone he'd probably enjoy it the most. Now hear me out, he's not used to something like this, so it may take some convincing, but it's very little. It's good that he was mortal before so this level of intimacy isn't completely out of bounds

Once you get the stamp of approval and you try it for the first time, he's in love. It's like all he wants to do. Like holy fuck, where has this been for all these eons? This is the ultimate relaxation and he gets to forget his worries for a few hours??

He's so fascinated that he'd be the one introducing YOU to different types of straps all the way down to the patterns. "A dragon one... have you heard of this one?" like damn bro we get it you fw dragons (literally 😹)

Given how calm he is he prefers slow and sensual. It's only when he's truly curious that he'd be like hmm...it certainly wouldn't hurt to try (prepare for his godly stamina to have you on the brink of death btw). also, there's no way he wouldn't request for his hair to be pulled 😮‍💨

Kung Lao

Kung Lao my beloved. Morphs into alpha with huge muscles and impeccable imagination. Kung Lao, the egotistical and prideful man he is would think he has the up on you simply because he brought it up before you did. This fine ass man can and will come prepared on his own, case full of toys and all

And if I said he likes to be tooted up with music in the back and you pulling his hair while being used like a barracks bunny, would you arrest me?? For speaking TRUTH? He's a whore your honor

He don't give a damn about slow and steady but he'll do it if you want to. Just know it will never end in slow and steady, the pace always seems to be picked up and all of a sudden he's strap-warming you as a punishment (he literally wanted this to happen)

Idek what more to say Kung Lao is a slut and I need him in a way that's concerning to women's suffrage. I will make that hat chucking dimple having sexy ass man a fucking mother, just you wait. [he is one of the first I will breed]

[zoros-sake-bottles]

What you'd argue with them over! Pt.2 (Zoro, Sanji & Law)

READ PT. 1 FIRST

https://www.tumblr.com/zoros-sake-bottles/719410532748328960/what-youd-argue-with-them-over-pt1-zoro?source=share

Zoro

After that argument the with Zoro about him not caring for his health you weren’t the same

You began allowing him to do what he saw fit

He’d injure himself and you wouldn’t say a word

You refused to nag him-to beg him to think about his body, but that didn’t mean you didn’t care

So you thought of a way to prove your point…and that was putting yourself in harms way constantly

In order for him to understand where you were coming from, he was going to have to see it himself … on you

So the day after that you continuously allowed yourself to get hurt in battles

At first it was little things like scrapes, cuts and bruises, Zoro saw these but didn’t pay them much mind because of how small they were

But over time it became more excessive, you allowed your opponent to freely bang you up before defeating them

You’d come back with bigger bruises covering your rib cage, you even had a busted lip

At one point he just couldn’t take it anymore and while you were getting treated he burst into the room and told Chopper to take five, leaving you two alone

“....What the hell was that out there?” is all he says as he stares down at you on the hospital cot

“A fight-”

“Screw that y/n, you know what I mean!” his jaw is clenched as he looks at your body all bruised and bleeding

You sit up holding your broken rib and Zoro’s arms go out to help you but you push them away

“Look at yourself, seriously, you shouldn’t be-”

You ignore him, going as far to stand up

Your legs wobble excessively as you take small steps

“Y/n sit down, your in no shape to go do anything right now-”

Your leg buckles as you continue to try and walk your breath becoming more like a wheeze

“Y/n! Alright! Enough! I get it!” Zoro grabs your shoulders and looks into your eyes

His body shakes a bit and his eyes are deeply concerned as he guides you back onto the cot

“You proved your point just-.....sit down” his voice stresses as he helps you onto the cot and covers you with a blanket

Despite the pain your in you find it in you to laugh a bit, it makes you look unhinged

You have dried blood under your nose and your bottom lip is swollen but all you can think about is how your plan worked

Zoro’s sits down on a stool in front of you, he shakes his head and sighs as he runs a hand down his face “crazy woman…” he mutters

Sanji

Since the argument Sanji has apologized to you countless times and you know that he means them some what

He's sorry that he upset you, he's sorry that you felt like you had to resort to physical violence

He doesn't understand the issue at hand and so as much as you hated what you were gonna do you had to give him a taste of what you experience with him on a daily

You started subtly allowing yourself to be hit on by males

You were a girl that could handle yourself so usually Sanji just watched (intensely and angrily) in these situations as you told the men off

But can you imagine his face when you didn't tell the guys to kick rocks?!

When you accepted the sleazy compliments and even gave some!

Sanji nearly went comatose as he watched you joyfully conversate with a scumbag at a bar

His jaw dropped as you laughed at the strangers jokes and even poured him more sake in his shot glass

"Mon cheri!? W-what's-I-I…why'd you-"

"Why what?" you reply nonchalantly

"T-that garbage man was…he was sexualizing your body dear!"

"Your being dramatic Sanji he was just expressing to me how much he admired my beauty-"

"My love no, that scum was undressing you with his eyes"

"your being ridiculous"

Sanji looks hurt as he tries to appeal to you somehow but his words just weren’t getting through

The man comes back and right in front of Sanji he’s about to caress your hair

There's no way Sanji would allow that, he ends up kicking the half drunk in the stomach sending him flying through the bar

Your jaw drops as you look up at him

Sanji face is scrunched as he looks at the guy knocked out, half his body in the bar and the other half hanging out

“Sanji-”

Sanji turns to you and takes your hands in his and with an inhale he says

“Mon amour, I cannot imagine how you feel when this happens to me and I am so sorry that I didn’t take the issue serious enough to the point you had to do a demonstration like this, I'm a fool” 

He rubs your hands with his thumbs and he seems still very heated from the entire ordeal

You can’t even stay mad at Sanji because of how jealous he looks

“I forgive you baby, I'm glad you can see what I go through…” 

You smile softly at him and he looks at you with a smudge of a smile

“....you didn’t have to compliment his hair….it wasn’t even nice” Sanji mumbles still jealous

You giggle and caress his face 

“You're right it was an ugly orange color but do you know what my favorite color is?”

Sanji looks at you curiously

“Yellow” 

You give him a kiss and he blushes not even thinking about that stupid drunk from before. He just wants to drown in your praises

Law

After the argument you both had before he has been acting as if it never happened

He gave you time to cool of but when you came back he didn’t apologize but rather gave you a task to fulfill

Its as if that was his way of saying that you overreacted and that it wasn’t that deep

You decided to keep it all inside, that's all Law ever did anyway so he shouldn’t have had a problem with you doing the same

You were tired of being labeled as over emotional every time something got you riled up or hurt your feelings

You wanted to be taken seriously by Law

One day you were listening in on Law's meeting that he had purposely left you out of

It seems he was planning on having the crew go to a dangerous island that had a poneglyph on it next 

This idea is tossed around because Law isn’t risky and nonchalant like his fellow members of the worst generation

He is precise as a surgeon should be

You were all running low resources and the island was close so it was decided that the crew would stop at the island for resources ONLY

So once you all arrived at the island you decided to sneak off and take prints of the poneglyph

It definitely wasn't easy and you had plenty of cuts and scrapes but it was all worth it and you couldn't wait to see the look on Law's face!

When you arrived back it was about afternoon, you searched for the submarine in the water but your eyes landed on your irritated boyfriend instead

He leaned against a rock his arms crossed his head tilted down

"y/n ya, tell me three things"

You can feel the disapproval oozing off of him and before you know it your being 'shambled' 

You reappear in front of him

"What was the plan?" "Where have you been?" "Who's your captain?"

"The plan was to retrieve resources and I chose to act alone on my own little mission, I don't know what the big deal is you do it all the time" You scoff turning your head away

Almost immediately he is turning your head back with his long slender fingers

"Do I look like I'm in the mood for games? Do you know how long I've been standing here?, We were done with the mission hours ago" he stares into your soul with his dark eyes

You almost always came close to folding when he had you like this

"I-...well-" You sputter watching his sharp eyebrow lift

"You can't even defend yourself, look at you blubbering like a moronic fish"

You feel embarrassed slightly but you don't back down "I got a print of the poneglyph" 

You shove the scroll into his face but it's almost as he doesn't see it

"Does go and buy some rice and dried meat sound like go and get the poneglyph to you? If so I'm going to check your hearing right now"

"I-"

He holds your wrist and you wince as he examines you, even though he's clearly upset, he's tending to you like your made out of glass

Its silent as he slowly rotates you, he touches at your shoulder and when you hiss it confirms whatever analysis going on in his brain

"You need stitches" he grumbles

"I'll do it myself, anyway look" you thrust the poneglyph into his face again

He takes the print from you and tsks before making it disappear 

"Law!-"

"What? Am I supposed to be happy you went against my orders and got yourself injured all to prove meager point"

Your shoulders sink "...did-...did it work at least?"

He sighs as takes off his hat before running his hands through his raven hair

"....It's hot as hell…and…i'm hungry"

You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow, was he changing the subject "What?"

"My back is killing me…"

You blink, was this his way of apologizing? Was he trying to communicate now?

You swallow and kick at the grass "I-I…I can massage it for you" you blush lightly "if you want-"

"That sounds heaven sent" he gives a small smirk 

"Oh-okay, lets go then-" 

Your body is pulled in close by him

"L-law?"

"You know, you never answered my third question he says softly

"Huh?-"

"Who's your captain?" he rest his forehead against yours

Your heart beats quickly and you find yourself trying to slow your breathing

"Y/n ya…"

"....you...your my captain"

[minisugakoobies]

Confessions of a Dirty Mind | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: smut, and they were roommates!, porn with the barest of plots, a little fluff Rating: M (18+) Warnings: incredibly thirsty pining, reader’s a bit feral for her roommate, the giggles will be deployed as a weapon, reader drops the d word (daddy) in her dirty thoughts but never says it out loud, accidental texts, body worship (abs, thighs, breasts - everything gets praised), love bites/marking, grinding, chan is thick everywhere, chan throws reader around a little, hints at dom!chan, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), facefucking, cum eating, reader is kind of an idiot but that's okay!, I wrote this out of a dire need to s this man’s d Word Count: 6.5K Disclaimers: NSFW; obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: The absolute last thing you want is for your roommate to find out just how much you want him. Right?

A/N: Well, as threatened promised, I'm writing for Stray Kids now in addition to BTS! This came out of absolutely nowhere last week. I've just got Bang Chan brainrot 24/7 now, so that's cool. Thanks to @minttangerines @bangtanintotheroom @sugalaritae for their support (and amazing Aussie accents!!) 💕

Unbeta'd as usual. Please let me know what you think! Like if you'd like to see more skz fics from me… that would fuel me to keep writing. If everyone hates this I'm quitting writing and moving to the wild to live with the koalas ✌️

Being roommates with your crush is its own special type of torture. Always being so close to what you want but never being able to touch. To taste. To feel. 

You weren’t always this feral. Once upon a time, you were normal. Well-adjusted, even. Then you had to move for your job and needed to find a place to stay fast and your best friend Minho just happened to know someone looking for a roommate. 

Honestly, looking back, it was too easy. Should’ve known there’d be a catch. And that catch was your sanity. 

Because Minho’s friend Bang Chan turned out to be the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Listen. A lot of people use phrases like that all the time, “the hottest man you’ve ever seen,”  some hyperbole they say for ridiculous effect, but you mean it. You have never seen anyone as beautiful as this man, with his chiseled cheekbones, thick lips, and those dimples. 

Fuck. Those dimples. Almost as maddening as the washboard abs he’s constantly showing off. You didn’t know a person could be allergic to shirts until you met Chan. 

And now you’re suffering. Every. Damn. Day. 

It’s not just that he’s the most gorgeous man on the planet. No, that would be hurtful enough, but he’s also kind. Smart. Silly as hell. You’re constantly plagued by his sweet smiles and unbelievably adorable giggles. 

The worst part, though, is the way he can flip between sexy and soft instantaneously. Like when the two of you argue over something stupid. All of your arguments are fundamentally stupid. The two of you get on so fucking well, the only things you argue over are opinions on pointless things. Like last night, when you’d joined him for a beer while he watched tv. 

“You’re out of your mind,” Chan had declared, twisting sideways on the couch to look at you. “There’s no way a koala could possibly defeat a kangaroo in a cage match!”

“Sure it could.” 

“No, it could not!” Chan let loose a flurry of high-pitched giggles. “Have you ever seen a kangaroo? Those things are ripped! One kick or punch, and the koala’s out.” He mimed a powerful punch.

You tipped back the remainder of your beer before pointing the bottle at him. “Yes it could! Think about it - what do koalas do?” When he just blinked, you continued. “They climb! And what do koalas usually have?” Again, a blank stare. “Syphilis! So… think about it! All that little guy has to do is climb up the kangaroo, give him some germs, and boom! Kangaroo goes down.” You grin smugly. “There’s a reason they call syphilis the silent killer.” 

Chan fixed you with his signature Look™, the one you think of as “stern dom daddy” - thick eyebrows drawn, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, dark eyes scanning your face - and you felt your knees go weak. Then he blinded you with the full sunshiny force of his smile, eyes closing, dimples popping. 

“That is an absolutely insane argument, not to mention completely incorrect. I don’t even know where to start explaining why you’re wrong.” He paused. “No, actually, let’s start with the fact that it’s chlamydia, not syphilis, that koalas get, and go from there.” By the time he’d finished  and you’d finally conceded that a kangaroo would probably win, the two of you were nearly in tears from laughing.

His duality is whiplash-inducing. And always leaves you in ruins. 

So when your feelings overwhelm you, when you feel like you’re absolutely bursting at the seams with need, you do what you always do. Torture Minho. 

Your bff is used to you venting to him about your crippling inability to make a move. On anyone. Ever. Over the years, he’s weathered dozens of crushes that never went anywhere because while you’re definitely a total treasure, you lack the confidence to make any of your (usually horny) dreams come true. He’s come to expect the endless text messages you send. 

Except that now, “messages” might not be the right word for them. “Unhinged ravings” might be more accurate. 

Ughhhh he’s so damn fine Today he came home from the gym all sweaty and I nearly offered to give him a bath With my tongue. My TONGUE Minho!

Like he’s always done, Minho bears it all in stride with his usual unwavering compassion.

You’re a lunatic

He doesn’t even try to convince you to say something to Chan about your feelings anymore. Now he just waits for you to exhaust yourself and then he changes the subject. Usually by sending photos of his cats. 

It’s an odd friendship, but neither of you would trade it for anything. 

At the moment, you’re ignoring your pain by lying on your bed, in a tee and sweats, watching a movie on your laptop. You can hear your roommate rummaging around his room. Your apartment features a Jack and Jill bathroom, so it’s easy for you to hear what’s going on next door through the adjoining space.

“Channie, why are you pacing around?” you call out. 

Your phone buzzes. 

Trying to find my shirt  

“Are you seriously texting me from the next room?” Pausing your movie, you trudge through the bathroom. The door to Chan’s room is open so you don’t bother to knock, flopping down on his bed as he digs through his closet. He’s shirtless as usual, blond curls shaking with the force of his rummaging.

“Yeah, sorry, ‘m in a hurry and didn’t want to stop looking,” Chan admits sheepishly, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you. You ignore the fluttering in your stomach and get comfortable, resting your head on your arms.

“You could’ve just said it out loud. I can hear you all over this apartment.” It’s not a big space. Which only amplifies your angst, as it’s hard to escape from your desires when the source of it is just constantly right there. Sprawling out on the tiny couch in the living room. Making himself a midnight snack in the kitchen. Lounging on your bed while you sit at your desk, trying not to stare at his reflection on your screen. “What shirt are you looking for?” 

“My tiger tank.” 

You know the shirt he’s speaking of - his white tank top with an embroidered tiger’s head on the chest. It’s a favorite of yours, cut low enough on the sides and in the front to show off his biceps and pecs at the same time. The first time you’d seen Chan in it, Minho had accused you of being a vampire because you couldn’t stop talking about how much you wanted to nibble on his collarbones. 

“Ah! Found it!” Chan raises the shirt over his head victoriously before yanking it on. He takes a moment to inspect himself in his mirror and you wonder if he truly recognizes just how stunning he is. He catches your eye in the reflection. “What are you up to tonight? Wanna come out with me, ‘Lix, & ‘Bin? We’re gonna get some drinks.”

Sure, you’d love to hang out at the bar with Chan and his friends. They’re always a good time. Except when closing time arrives and once again you’re forced to bear witness to your roommate getting hit on by basically every woman in the bar. Not that you can blame them. But it’s especially awful on the nights when he leaves with someone else. You’d rather not deal with that tonight.

“Nah, I’m just gonna relax. But thanks.” 

“Come on,” he wheedles, plopping down on the bed, hard enough to make you bounce a little. “You haven’t been out with us in ages. Is it the guys? Did one of them say something stupid?” 

“They always say stupid shit. That’s all they ever say,” you crack, smiling when Chan laughs. “But no, it’s nothing like that. I’m just tired.” 

Chan doesn’t say anything, just looks at you for a moment. The silence makes you inexplicably nervous, and you fiddle with his comforter for want of something to do with your hands. But then he just nods. “‘Kay. But if you change your mind, we’ll be down at Back Door.” 

“Thanks.” 

Chan heads into the bathroom to play with his hair. You slip past him, back into your room, throwing yourself dramatically onto your bed and burying your face in a plush pillow. How much longer can you stand this? 

You grab your phone. 

I’m losing my mind

You can practically hear the sigh in Minho’s voice as you read his response. 

What did Chan do now?

He’s getting ready to go out with Felix and Changbin He looks so fucking good in those tight jeans

Minho doesn’t reply. He knows to just let you get it out of your system before responding.

My mouth is literally watering It’s a Pavlovian response at this point I see denim and I start salivating

A text alert pops up in the middle of your thirsty ranting. 

Hey do you mind if I borrow your eyeliner?

“Stop texting me when you’re 10 feet away!” you yell, laughing. Chan pops his head out of the bathroom and flashes you that grin, the one that turns your insides to goo, and you sigh. “Of course you can borrow it, you know you can.” 

Thanks

“Chan!” 

His giggles float through the door and your thumbs fly.

Seriously If Chan doesn’t let me s his d one of these days I will die I will be the first person to die from ineedtosuckadick-itis

There’s a loud clattering in the bathroom, like someone’s knocked half the contents of the crowded sink counter onto the floor. Your makeup isn't cheap, so you hop up off your bed. 

“You okay in there?” The first thing you notice is the pile of smashed cosmetics on the ground. The second thing is the way your roommate is staring at you, eyes wide, sharpened kohl liner still clutched in one hand, phone in the other. “What? What’s wrong?” 

Chan doesn’t speak, but raises his phone and kind of waves it limply. 

Oh god. You were in the wrong chat. You were in the wrong chat and now Chan knows you want to suck his dick. You’ve been texting for most of your life and this is the moment your brain decides to fuck up?!

As Chan continues to stare, you realize you have two choices: fess up and own it, or play dumb.

It’s no choice.

“What, uhhhhhhh, what’s up?” 

Chan gestures to his phone. “You want to suck my dick?” He says the words as if they’re unfamiliar to him, like he’s trying them out for the first time. 

Well, shit, how are you supposed to play dumb if he’s just going to call you right out? 

“Guess the cat’s out of the horny bag now,” you mutter under your breath.

Chan cocks his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” you cough, looking at your own phone. “I mean, uh, noooo, what? Minho and I were just, um, talking about how I want to, uh, sssssss…” you glance wildly around the cramped room, hissing like a frantic snake as you fail to come up with another word that starts with s, before your eyes land on an empty glass sitting by the sink. “…Share a drink with you? Because I’m… thirsty?”

“You’re thirsty?”

Fucking understatement.

You can’t quite read the expression on Chan’s face as he glances between you and his phone. There’s a flash of dom daddy in there and then it’s gone. 

“YN. I know what ‘s his d’ means. Also, you said you had - what did you call it? Ineedtosuckadickitis.” You think Chan’s lips quirk slightly as he reminds you of your textual idiocy, but you’re too busy trying to psychically rip a hole in the floor so you can disappear forever to be certain. “Where do you get your medical info, by the way? I’m starting to worry.” 

He’s making light of the situation, which you would appreciate more if you weren’t sure you’re about to die from embarrassment. Your mind is reeling. There’s no way to get out of this. Any second now, he’s gonna realize how you feel. Then he’s gonna let you down. Gently, you hope. Then you’re gonna need to find a new place to live, because there’s no recovering from this.

“Fine.” You take a deep breath. “Yes, I said it.” Unable to look him in the eye, you focus on your phone as you speak. “I was telling Minho how much I want to suck your dick, because I’m a disgusting horny monster who can’t stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go pack up my room now.” Shoulders slumping, you slink away, hoping he won’t follow. 

He does. “Wait, what?” 

You don’t answer, heading directly for your closet, tugging at your suitcase where it lies on a shelf, and he crowds into your space, arms reaching out to stop you. 

“Oi, slow down! What are you doing?” 

“I’ll try to be out quickly, so you can find a new roommate right away.” You keep pulling on the suitcase, but it’s futile. He barely has to exert any strength to push it back, so you give up. 

“YN.” Chan places his hands on your shoulders, turning you around. It’s probably the closest you’ve ever been, standing face to face like this, and the nearness of him is a little dizzying. “Back up. You don’t have to go anywhere. Just talk to me.” He lightly guides you over to your bed, taking a seat next to you. “Why do you think I’d want you to leave?” 

“Because I'm a gross little gremlin who can’t stop objectifying you?” you answer honestly. 

Chan’s eyes widen before he bursts into laughter. “You know, you’ve said a lot of bonkers things in the months you’ve been living here, but… how does wanting to suck my dick make you a ‘gross little gremlin?’” 

Oh no. You can feel it bubbling up inside you, all the things you’ve felt. All the things you’ve said. Oh, you’re going to tell him, aren’t you? 

“It’s not just sucking your dick.” Grabbing your phone, you open your chat with Minho again, and begin to read. “‘I need Chan to destroy me. Fully. Like I’m a piece of wood and he’s a lumberjack. Just split me in half. With his hands or his dick, I’m not picky.’” Your entire body radiates with humiliation. You’re a tiny sun made of molecules of mortification, on the verge of going supernova. “Um. That’s one example. And there’s more. A lot more.” 

And then you hand him your phone, looking away as he starts to scroll. 

You stare at the wall, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Until the quiet gets to you, and you give in, peering at him, expecting to find him frozen again, or worse, looking sickened by your words. 

Instead you find him smiling. And then he starts to giggle. 

“‘I’m going feral,” he reads. “‘He’s wearing that beanie again. I- ’” His laughing gets louder as he struggles to finish the thought. “‘I want him to wear me instead.’” He glances up at you, eyes glimmering with way too much amusement. “What does that even mean?!”

You groan, yanking your shirt up to cover your face. “Chan, stop!” He merely laughs harder. How can he be enjoying this? You’ve never known him to be cruel. “I get it, I’m awful, you don’t have to laugh!”

But he keeps chuckling, and then you feel his hands on your hips. Like a bewildered turtle, you poke your head out of your shirt, and he just smiles. 

“C’mere.” He keeps tugging at you until you scoot closer, swinging your legs over his lap, and pulls you in for a hug. 

It’s better than you ever imagined. His strong arms lock around your waist, keeping you in place as his chest continues to rumble with his apparently endless mirth. Tentatively, you let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, afraid that if you cling too tightly, he’ll let go. 

Chan leans back to grin at you. “You’re so fucking cute.” 

You’re so fucking confused. “I am?” 

“Yeah.” His fingers rub light circles into your lower back. The sensation is somehow both soothing and invigorating, sending sparks directly to the heat already simmering in your gut. “Just adorable.” 

You’re not adorable, you’re a dirty little freak whose mind is constantly churning out trash, but if that’s what he wants to believe, you’ll take it.  

“You’re not disturbed by all the things I’ve said?” 

“Disturbed? Nah. I’m used to the crazy shit you say.” He’s got a point. You do say a lot of crazy shit. Just not usually about him to him. “Besides, d’you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say something?” 

“About your dick??”

Chan tosses his head back, jostling you with his laughter. “No, you maniac, just something in general! Something to tell me that you like me.” When he meets your gaze again, you’re met with that Look™, and this time those sparks head straight for your cunt. “That you want me. Because…” 

He trails off, hands gripping your sides, shifting you. Until you feel it. Poking directly into your thigh. 

“Oh!”

“Yeah. Oh.” Chan licks his lips. When did his eyes get so dark? “Because I want you too, you absolute fruit loop. Took me a minute to get my bearings, wasn’t expecting you to confess it in a text like that, or with those exact words, but…” He smirks. “I’m good now.” 

His thumb traces your jawline before he cups your chin. The gentle touch sends shivers rippling through you. His eyes drop to your lips. 

“You good?” 

Funnily enough, somehow, you are. 

“Yeah. I’m good,” you whisper, tipping forward to close the space between you. 

Amazingly, despite the unyielding need to just yeet yourself onto him, you manage to hold back, simply leaning in to the kiss instead. Those plush lips that you’ve raved about feel unbelievable as they caress yours. So soft and tender, like the warmth spreading through you as he tightens his hold. Then he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, and you moan, loud and wanton, unable to control the sound, and he drops his hands to your hips again, gripping insistently. 

“C’mere,” he commands again, voice husky as his fingers hook into your sweats. “Come closer.” He exhales heavily. “Please.” 

Please? He has no idea how little he needs to beg right now. As if you’re not dying to get as close as you can! In the blink of an eye, you throw your leg over his, straddling him. His hands wrap around you again, like he can’t stand not having them on you for a second. You understand the feeling. 

You’re bolder now with your kisses, nipping and licking eagerly. A particularly sharp bite on his pouty lip makes him gasp in surprise, and you press your tongue into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut in sheer ecstasy when he sucks in response. The incessant throbbing of your clit is slightly relieved when Chan’s hips buck upwards, pushing his erection against you more firmly. He swallows your whines, breathes them back out in the form of his own groans.

The need for air eventually overwhelms you after a few minutes, and you begrudgingly tear yourself away from his face. 

“Aren’t you going to be late?” you pant, marveling at how red and swollen Chan’s lips are from kissing. The urge to dive back in before you’ve gotten enough oxygen into your system to keep from passing out is strong. “To meet the guys?”

“You really think I’m gonna leave now?” Chan huffs a laugh as he gazes at you from beneath lowered eyelids, looking as dazed as you feel, and you realize, shit, Minho’s right, you are a vampire, and you’re about to eat this man alive. “Fuck no. Besides, what kind of terrible roommate would I be if I left you at death’s door?” 

“If you - what?” 

More high-pitched giggles fill the room. How can he be so cute while actively grinding his cock against you like this? “Your disease. Remember? Ineedadickitis.” 

“I need to suck a dick,” you correct him.

“Oh, do you? Well, go on then.” He cracks up completely, bouncing you with the force of his laughter as you sit there dumbly for half a second before snapping to. 

“You’re so stupid, oh my god!” With a howl, you push him away. He goes easily, until he’s lying on his back on your bed, still cackling while he swats away your fake punches. “I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” His fingers lock around your wrists and with a gentle jerk you’re lying on top of him, your arms pinned between you. Before you can try to pretend that he’s wrong, try to mount yet another one of your dumb arguments, despite knowing full well that he's right, he kisses you again. 

As soon as he releases your hands, you tangle them in his hair. His hands trace down your back to grab the swell of your ass, crushing you flat against him, chest to chest. He suddenly breaks off the kiss.

“Are you not wearing a bra?” 

You shake your head and he groans, sitting up, taking you with him. His fingers curl in the hem of your top, twisting it upwards.

“Shirt off. Now.” His voice drops an octave and you shudder, quickly obeying his order. Then you grip his tank top.

“You too.” 

He reaches behind his head to peel the fabric off, tossing it on the floor. Then he lays back, propping himself up on his elbows as you openly gawk at his stomach. 

“Fuck.” He’s transfixed by your chest. 

“Jesus.” You’re mesmerized. From this close, you can see a faint trail of fine hair that runs down, cutting through the carved lines of his abs, like an arrow pointing to your desired destination. “Unreal.” 

“You can touch, if you’d like,” Chan grins up at you, obviously enjoying your reaction. 

You roll your eyes but do anyway, dragging your fingertips over his abs. His stomach twitches beneath your touch. Before you can get too far, he wiggles his hips, playfully jostling you out of your concentration.

“Can I touch, too?” 

“Jesus, yes, of course!” Grabbing his hands, you place one on each breast. “Touch me already!” 

He doesn’t waste any time, rolling your nipples between his fingers, waking the buds. You arch into him, his abs forgotten as he leans forward to take your left breast in his mouth. 

“Shit, Channie,” you whimper, combing his hair out of his face so you can watch him suckle away. He hums into you, swirling his tongue over your nipple, around and around, before dragging his tongue across to the other breast. 

“You like that, baby?” he asks, covering your chest with kisses. 

Baby? Did he really just call you baby? Is this really happening, or did you slip into one of your daydreams again? 

Nope, the hard dick rolling into the apex of your thighs as you grind down on him feels pretty real. You can’t help but moan, wondering what he looks like under those tight jeans. Is he as thick as you imagine? 

Wait, why are you still trying to imagine anything? He’s literally underneath you right now.

Your hand splays on his torso as you guide him onto his back again. Slowly, you lower yourself over him, and drag your mouth down his neck. Clearly, you’d interrupted his going out routine earlier, because he’s not wearing his normal cologne right now. Instead, the heady scent you inhale as you stick your nose into the hollow of his clavicles is pure Chan, musky and comforting. 

“Ah, that tickles!” he hisses. 

“Sorry.” You press a heavy kiss to his collarbone. “Is that better?” He nods, right before you sink your teeth in.

“Nnngh!” He lets out a throaty groan as you happily suck a love bite into his delicate skin. God, the noises this man makes! You want to record them and play them on a loop. 

You slip further down, dragging your fingernails over one of Chan’s nipples, watching his face for his reaction. A tiny “oh!” escapes him, and you repeat the motion, grinning when his back lifts off the bed. Sensitive. This is going to be fun. 

Chan raises his head when you start to kiss his abs, taking the time to lick along the ridges as you go, the salty tang of his sweat lingering on your lips. When your hands play with the skin above his waistband, he clears his throat. “You know, you don’t have to do this, just because of that text.” 

“Are you kidding me?” You pause with your fingers on the button of his fly. “You want me to stop now?” 

“I just don’t want you to think I expect anything.” Although his voice is a little shaky, like he’s trying to calm himself down, you hear the sincerity in his words. The sweetness. That warmth inside you roars into a flame. 

“Channie. I want this. Do you want this?” 

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Thank god,” you sigh, unzipping his fly.  He helps you peel off his tight jeans and you make quick work of his silk boxers beneath. Nudging his legs apart, you kneel between them 

For a moment just you stare at the sight in front of you. You were right. He’s thick. Maybe a little longer than most of the dicks you’ve been happy to be acquainted with, maybe not, but definitely thicker. 

You want to sit on him so bad. But first you want to please him, want to taste him. So much want. 

While you’re dicknotized, Chan stuffs your pillows under his head so he can have a better angle. You glance at his face and find him biting his lip, eyes looking a little desperate. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you. 

Might as well put him out of his misery. With a lick of your palm, you wrap your hand around him, and pump a few shallow strokes. He grunts at the sudden slickness, abdomen jumping slightly. 

“Ah, baby, just like that,” he says, eyes closing when you roll your thumb over the tip a few times. “Shit.” 

Your tongue darts out to follow, dipping around the head and back over, before you take it into your mouth. Just the tip, bobbing off, then a little more, then again. Each time you sink lower, he sighs. 

“Fuck, that feels so good. Keep going, take it all in.” 

Oh god, is he a talker? You’re already impossibly wet. You can’t possibly handle getting any more aroused. 

While your mouth is occupied, you lift your leg so you’re straddling one of Chan’s, resting a palm on his big thigh. You have obsessed over his thighs since the day you moved in. You refer to them as “the thunder from down under” in your texts to Minho. And here they are now, so strong and sturdy beneath you. Wild. 

Chan hisses when you deepthroat him, brushing your nose against his pelvis. Even though you pride yourself on your dick-sucking skills, you can’t help but choke slightly. More saliva floods into your mouth, and you swallow around him. 

“Oh, shit!” His hips rise up a little. You use both hands, one trying to hold him down by his hip while the other strokes in tandem with your mouth. There’s drool everywhere, and the sounds the wetness makes sounds lewd even for porn. “Baby, this mouth of yours! Feels better than I ever imagined.”

Air rushes into your lungs as you pull off, replacing your mouth with your other hand. “You thought about this?” He fantasized about you, too?

“Oh fuck yeah,” he growls. “All the time. Thought those pretty lips would look so good choking on me, and I was right.” He thrusts a little, rocking his dick up into your slippery grip. “Used to dream about fucking it.”

You moan so brokenly, he looks at you in concern. 

“Please,” you lick his darkened head almost frantically, “do it.” 

Chan studies you for a moment, brows knitting together, before he pushes your head down. 

“That’s it, go down for me,” he directs you, and you listen. “Just stay there. Let me do the work now.” 

He starts slowly, tilting his pelvis a little, fucking up into your waiting mouth. Then he cants his hips a little faster. His breathing gets heavier the harder he thrusts. Once he finds a steady rhythm, he lays his hand on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wants you. 

You squirm restlessly as Chan fucks your throat. Having your roommate use your mouth as a sex toy is incredibly hot. Finally, you slide your hand into your sweats to give yourself some relief. Your clit is engorged, practically beating like a heart between your fingers. You let out a pleased moan, vibrating down Chan’s cock. 

“Do that again, baby.” 

You’re not denying this man anything. Again and again, you make him curse as your hums resonate across his sensitive skin. He trembles a little, and it’s intoxicating to think that you might be breaking down this big, strong roommate of yours, reducing him to a quivering mess.

At the very least, it’s something to aim for. 

Chan praises you again. “God damn it, that’s good. Gonna make me cum with that pretty mouth.” 

You suck and swallow and moan and rub yourself, feeling Chan’s thigh flex beneath you, and it hits you what he said, that you’re about to get Chan off, you, so you reach out, raking your hand up the inside of his thigh until you find his balls, squeezing gently.

“I’m gonna cum, shit, ’m gonna cum,” he moans, words slurring together. “Where, baby?” 

You stop touching yourself so you can grip the hand of his that rests on your head. He gets the point, pace not slowing, and with a few more powerful pumps, and some stuttered exhalations, he fills your mouth. You take it all, swallowing noisily and gasping for breath once he pulls out. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

He laughs as he says it. Your shoulders shake as you half-laugh, half-wheeze, slumping over on Chan’s thigh.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Fuck yeah,” he grins. “And I’m guessing from the sounds you were making, you enjoyed that as well? Just maybe not quite as much as me?”

You shrug. “I got what I wanted.”  

“Yeah, okay, maybe, but I bet you’d like more, hmm?” Without waiting for a response, he swiftly flips you onto your back. Just hauls you right over like you’re made of feathers. A rash of ridiculously giddy giggles burst past your lips, but they die away when he crawls up your body, the power of his gaze pinning you in place, and drops hungry lips onto yours.

Immediately, you surge up into him, pressing as close as you can. Both of you are glistening with sweat, his hair sticking to his face and yours as he licks into your mouth, hot and wet. You’re drowning in him. It’s everything you ever wanted. How the fuck can you possibly want more? But you do, and this feeling makes itself known as you start to whimper needily.

Chan’s hand quickly locates your breast, tenderly cupping your flesh. “Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are? So pretty.”

You preen at his words, humming contentedly. Fuck. Do you have a praise kink, or is it just that Chan’s the one saying these words that is getting you more worked up? You roll your hips, seeking friction, and Chan’s hand slides downward until he reaches where you need him.

“Oh, baby, so wet,” he says, voice hushed, almost reverent. “Just dying to be touched, yeah? Let me help you.”

With sure movements, lithe fingers stroke along your lips, opening you up. Fingertips squeeze your clit, playing with the aching pearl, causing you to squeal, and you could die, having made such a sound, except you’ve clearly already died and gone to heaven.

Even as his hand rubs, his lips never leave yours. You thrash in his grip when he slides a finger inside you, finding your g-spot with surprising quickness and pressing the fuck out of it, and he still chases your mouth, covering your chin in kisses. Your legs kick out as he alternates between fondling your clit and stroking your walls, until he suddenly stops, pulling his fingers out so he can rid you of your sweats. 

“You still with me?” he asks, kneeling between your legs, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, sucking in air like a fish. You must be a mess, if your appearance matches how you feel. But you’re also excruciatingly aroused and frustrated, so close to coming that you’re ready to blow.

“Yes. I’m here, I’m good.” 

“Good.” The Look™️ is back. He grabs your legs and bends them, pushing your thighs into your torso. “Here. Be a good girl and hold these.”

Yes, daddy. You bite your tongue to keep from screaming the words, and grasp your legs behind your knees, pulling them to the side as much as you can, opening you up wide.

“Yes, Channie.”

He smiles at that, eyes so dark you can almost see yourself. “So good for me. Hold tight, baby.” 

He sticks out his tongue, eyebrows cocking as he dives down, tracing your folds lightly before flattening the pink muscle and dragging it heavily upwards. You keen as his hot mouth suctions onto your clit. He rolls your clit around with his tongue before flicking it in a quick motion, over and over. 

“Jesus!” You’re a live wire, muscles jolting and twitching. As he continues working over the tiny bundle of nerves, his fingers slip inside you again, two this time, scissoring you apart, making room for his tongue. 

You gasp as he plunges inside, tracing your inner walls. He’s so loud, the noises his mouth makes as he sucks and laps, and messy, too, slick dripping from his chin when he lifts his face, making sure you’re watching him. Of fucking course you’re watching him. There’s literally nothing else in the world you’d rather be looking at right now than Bang Chan, the hottest man in the galaxy, devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal. 

“Tastes so good,” he rasps, turning his face to press sloppy kisses to your inner thigh. “Think you can hold out a little longer? Let me enjoy, yeah?” 

At this point, you’re a fucking tinderbox, one spark and you’ll explode, but sure, why not let the man enjoy himself a little more? 

“O-okay,” you stutter weakly. “I’ll… try.” You bite your lip. “But maybe…” 

Chan brushes his lips over your slit. With a shaky hand, you let your left leg go so you can reach out, brushing some damp locks off his forehead, and he looks at you. 

“Maybe a little slower?” you ask. 

He smiles, nodding a little. “Got ya.” 

Instead of pulling your hand back, you thread your fingers into his hair, and he hums, burying his face again. Only now, his tongue rolls slowly over your cunt, languidly, each pass taking longer and longer. He still keeps the pressure up, makes sure he’s pushing just as firmly against your sensitive folds, still fucks his tongue into you just as deeply as he was before, but now his movements aren’t so frenzied. They feel purposeful, like he’s intent on savoring the moment. 

And you realize you should, too. So you barely blink as you observe everything he does - every kiss, every groan, every time his eyes close. You try to commit it all to memory, so you can relive this moment over and over again. In case this is it.

Chan keeps humming, not so much a melody as just wordless sounds, getting louder when your thighs start to squeeze a little. Your hand grips the roots of his hair, not so much guiding him as hanging on. Until he takes your clit in his mouth again, and you cry out, holding him in place. 

“Right there, Channie, please!” Your voice breaks as you beg him not to stop. He doesn’t let up, not even when you release your death grip on your right leg, letting it fall over his shoulder like the other one. You dig your fingers into the blanket beneath you, fisting the material. “Fuck, just like that!” 

Your hips rise off the bed as you start to hump his face, grinding harder and harder. Chan slides his fingers back into your already clenching hole and finds your g-spot again. You wail helplessly, mind already going, body not far behind, as your muscles start to contract, everything tightening - 

“Fuuuuck!” 

With a loud groan, you come all over Chan’s face. He keeps tonguing your clit through your orgasm, but has to use his hands to hold your thighs open so he doesn’t asphyxiate. You tug at his hair, riding out the waves of bliss on his mouth. 

When you finally relinquish your grasp on his head, he stops. He slides your legs from his arms, then sits back on his heels to examine his handiwork.

You’re a limp noodle. No bones. No muscles. Couldn’t move if you tried. Your climax completely wiped you out, leaving nothing behind. But you’re a very happy noodle, practically purring as you smile at the ceiling. 

Chan, on the other hand. Chan appears to be ready for the next round. A point made obvious by the massive erection he’s again sporting. You blink at him a few times. 

“I’m going to need a minute.”

He laughs, draping himself over you, arm slung over your stomach, head on your shoulder. “Nah mate, you’re done.” 

A rather petulant whine bubbles up from deep within you. “Nooo, I’m good, I’m good!” 

You try to reach for his dick, but he catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. Which is a surprisingly sweet move, but not what you want right now. It’s not that you don’t want to cuddle with him - if he asked, you’d wrap yourself like a blanket around him and snuggle him for hours.

It’s that you’re not ready for this moment to be over. 

“Relax,” he laughs. “Plenty of time for that later. Just rest for a bit.” 

“Later?" There’s gonna be a later?

Chan kisses your neck lightly. “Yeah, later. Not done with you yet, baby.” 

You sigh, bringing a hand up to stroke his back. Okay. Maybe a little nap is fine. If there’s going to be a later. 

Fuck, you can’t wait to text Minho. 

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2023 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

I don't feel right tagging my usual tl since that was for my BTS writing, so I'm just gonna tag some moots that I think might like this:

@moni-logues @yoongimingyu @borahae-k @nabiolive @jikooknoona @sowoozoo-7 @eoieopda @here4btsfics @candlewaxandp0lar0ids @ballelino @starlostjimin @augustbutwinter @blueversaillesdreams @hobivore @hobi-gif @seokjinger-ale @hannahbee12719 feel free to tell me if I'm way off base, no pressure to actually read! 💕

[fir3ylolol]

double feature

pairing: Present!Johnny Cage x Younger!Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: you decide to take a night off from working at the special forces, ending up catching the attention of two men. well, technically one man. what happens when they turn their sights on you?

tw: threesome, vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, a touch of eating out, face fucking, choking, double penetration, little bit of biting, dirty talk, overstimulation, cumming in you, cumming on you, afab!reader, NOW gn pronouns dom/sub adjacent, sub!reader, gentle dom!johnny, rough dom!johnny, you KNOW they're whining, mentions of drinking/partying, so much attention, TWO BIG MEN OBSESSED WITH YOU WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED, smut, shameless smut, porn with little plot

a/n: i've never written anything with more than one partner before, so i hope it's good. also, sorry if the names get a little confusing, i didn't want to say "younger Johnny" and "older Johnny" 200000x, it was getting annoying lol

word count: 2.53 k

Ao3

You weren’t entirely sure how you ended up here, with both Johnnys staring at you hungrily. Maybe it was the party that had been going on tonight, members of the Special Forces were taking the night off before the big invasion. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had a night off in forever and wanted to wear the new dress you’d bought. Maybe it was the fact you forgot you were around your coworkers. Or maybe, it was Johnny, the younger one. Christ, he would flirt with a chair if it had ‘nice curves’. But that didn’t make his attention less appealing, lingering eyes along your frame as he walked through the crowded room to you. Sliding next to you at the bar, he looked at you with a cocky smirk, speaking over the loud music, “Didn’t expect to see you here, sweet thing. Figured you were too tight-laced for this scene.” Looking out of the corner of your eye and smiling, you yell out, “All you know about me is what my ass looks like.”

Putting his arms up in a ‘guilty’ motion, he lets them drop and leans in to whisper in your ear. “Hey, you wanna come with me to the booth over there? A lot more comfortable and quieter.” Nodding lightly, you grab your purse and stand up. He stands with you, lightly taking your free hand and weaving you through the crowd behind him. You reach a booth quickly, noticing that there’s only one other person there: older Johnny. You partially freeze, realizing you’re now trapped with a playboy and an actual coworker. But you continue, sitting down in the semi-circle booth first. As you settle in, young Johnny behind you, you try to lighten the mood slightly.

“So, what am I supposed to call you guys? I mean, you’re both Johnnys, and I don’t want confusion.” Younger Johnny wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaning in close, “You can call me whatever you want, sexy.” Slightly bothered by his actions, older Johnny smacks his arm lightly, causing him to loosen his grip on you. “You can just call me John. He can be Johnny.” Johnny leans back, shrugging as he looks away from you. “Fine by me. But you still haven’t told me why you decided to grace us with your presence.” Pausing to think, you look between the two of them as you answer. “Well…I needed a break and I figured, why not?” Johnny decides that he wants to be closer again, resting his head on his arm, as he speaks, “Lucky us. Aren’t we lucky, John?” Expecting another smack, you turn to look at John, as he leans back and looks you up and down, finally speaking again, “Yeah, it seems like it. I’ve never seen you in civilian clothes before.”

You’re a bit embarrassed now, four eyes locked on you as you stutter out, “W-Well, I don’t have many chances to. Besides, this is new.” Johnny’s eyes light up as he leans in further. “Ah, I get it. There’s someone here you wanted to impress. Hoping to go home with some company, eh?” Now John reacts, brows furrowed as he leans into Johnny’s face, “Come on man, do you have to be so crass?” Johnny laughs at him lightly, managing to say, “You were thinking it too, I know you were! Like I haven’t noticed you staring just as much as me!” John rolls his eyes and scoffs at him, moving to stand up. “I don’t have to take this, you know. I’m just gonna leave,” he says as he stands.

Unable to even control yourself, you dive out, grabbing his wrist. Surprised, he turns around to see you looking up at him. He quickly looks at Johnny, and they both raise their eyebrows at your actions. John sits back down but scoots closer to you. You’re now sandwiched in between them, nerves radiating off of you. John brushes some hair off your shoulder, speaking softly, “What was that about, hm? Why do you want me to stay?” Johnny wraps an arm around your waist, whispering into your other ear, “Yeah, do you not like me or something?” You fluster at their proximity to you, their entire demeanor shifting. “I-I…uh…I dunno…I like hanging out with both of you-” Johnny cuts you off, lips against your ear as he whispers, “Both of us? How greedy.” John lets a hand drift down to squeeze your thigh, leaning to the other side of your head, “Very greedy, baby.” Your head is spinning, their touches make you forget to breathe. 

“Hey, what are you doing? A second ago, you guys were arguing.” You swallow your nerves as much as you can. John looks into your eyes, an intense stare into your own, “Just testing the waters.” Johnny smirks, starting to lightly kiss your neck as you shiver against him. He laughs against your skin, muttering out, “Feeling alright, baby? Or have I pushed too far?” Your eyelids flutter, and this attention is getting to you, “N-no…it feels nice.” Johnny continues, kissing against your collarbone and finding the sensitive spot in the crook of your neck, an abrupt whine escaping your lips. Both of them are happy with the sound, as Johnny continues kissing and sucking on the spot, and John’s hand on your thigh starts traveling in more. You tip your head onto John’s shoulder, whimpering, “This isn’t fair, doing this to me.” He lightly grabs your chin with his free hand and moves it so that your noses are touching. “Then do you want to get out of here?” Without hesitating, you nod, intoxicated from all the attention.

Suddenly, without even realizing it, you’re walking out the door, still in between them. You were so caught up in them that you were walking without thinking. All you knew was that you didn’t have any drinks, yet you lost all your inhibitions. And then you were there, in a nice apartment, in the bedroom, with two men staring at you hungrily.

John is the first to talk, still a few feet away from you. “You feeling alright? You seem kind of out of it.” You nod rapidly, managing to speak after being silent for so long, “Yeah, yes. I feel good. I was just a little spaced out. You guys are kind of… overwhelming.” Johnny closes the distance, both hands on your hips as he smiles wide, “See? I told you. Just lost in thought, thinking about what’s gonna happen, yeah?” John walks to your side, cupping your face as he leans in. His lips meet yours gently, and you melt into it, the delicious feeling flooding your senses. It’s cut off by a very loud whine from Johnny, clearly jealous of the lack of attention. As you turn towards him, he kisses you hard, a hand rushing to the back of your head to add to the intensity. It was strange, you knew they were the same, but they felt so different. Johnny tasted like bubblegum chapstick and smelled like expensive cologne, while John tasted like whiskey and smelled like fresh laundry.

Johnny’s kiss only lasts so long though, as both men start feeling at you. Johnny’s hands travel towards your chest as John’s calloused fingers dance down your legs. They lead you to sit on the bed behind you, Johnny starting to pull your dress over your head. You raise your arms to let him, forgetting embarrassment as you sit practically naked in front of them. Johnny smiles down at you, hand tugging lightly at your hair. “Can you help me feel good, baby?” You immediately understand, biting your lip and nodding as he undoes his pants. His cock springs out, free from the confinement of his jeans. You lick at the head, a hiss escaping his lips. But he’s impatient, lightly pushing your head down. You oblige, taking as much of him as you can before gagging. Suddenly, you feel John’s hands guiding you to go on all fours. But you focus on Johnny, letting him fuck your mouth.

You feel those familiar fingers pushing your soaking underwear to the side and a warm tongue connecting with your pussy. Moaning against Johnny’s length, he whines out in response, hips bucking and gripping your hair tighter as he goes further down your throat. “Shittt, keep moaning around my cock like that, you sound so good.” And moan you do, as John eats you out, tongue dancing against your clit in a maddening way. It doesn’t take very long before you feel your underwear being pulled down, John’s thick cock rubbing against your hole in the most teasing way. Slowly, he pushes in, the feeling of both men filling you up drawing another moan out of you. You hear them both moan, John grabbing your hips to stabilize himself. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Wrapping around my cock like that, it’s not fair.” Johnny speeds up, relishing in the tears prickling in your eyes, “Yeah? Do you like that? You like being fucked like this, huh? God, you’re so fucking hot like this.” He is fucking your mouth with almost no pause, while John is gentle, hips moving at half the speed but reaching deep enough to hit your cervix every time.

There’s something rough to both of them, the way they use you, yet gentle, and wanting, and it drives you crazy. You arch your back a little more, a deep groan coming from John, as well as looking directly into Johnny’s eyes. He meets them with an expression you can only describe as needy as he smiles down at you and wipes your tears away with his thumb. Before you can blink, his shirt is off, his muscles and tattoos a delicious sight. But you can’t focus on it for long as John leans forward, regaining control of the moment. You can feel his warm chest against your back and you can’t help but wonder if he still has the tattoo, as his hand wraps lightly around your throat. “You’re doing so good, baby, taking us so good like this. You look so pretty like this, fucked out just for us.” Johnny is unraveling more at how tight your throat is around him, only able to clutch onto your head desperately and whimper out.

It’s only a couple more seconds until he’s gone, cumming loudly down your throat with a loud whine, which finally lets you get a deep breath in. You sputter slightly, leaning down so you’re head is against the bed. John sits back up, a string of obscenities falling from his lips, “Shit, look what you’re doing to me. Thought you couldn’t get better, but I was fuckin’ wrong. Wish I knew earlier how good you look taking dick, yeah?” Johnny sits on the edge of the bed, catching his breath, but doesn’t waste the opportunity to remove the last bit of your, and his, clothing. You look up at him from the mattress, half-lidded and cockdrunk. 

And how can he resist that? He lifts your head with one hand, kissing your lips with a much more tender roughness than before. His other hand reaches down to toy with your clit, smiling as you jump at the feeling. “Feels good, right? I’ll make you feel so good.” You’re losing it now, legs wobbling as you get closer and closer to cumming. John grabs your hair tight, pulling slightly to tilt your head up, “Wanna see that pretty face as you cum.” That’s the final straw as you cum hard around John, loud moans as you tremble beneath him. He only lasts a few more seconds, loud and whiny seconds until he pulls out, cum shooting across your back. Johnny stands up next to him, both looking down at you as you pant heavily. “It’s like art really,” Johnny breathes out. John snorts slightly, “Yeah, a real Pollock.” He kneels to look in your eyes. “You feeling okay love? You wanna rest?” You manage to shake your head, pushing out, “More, please.”

Suddenly, you’re being lifted, strong arms around your waist, as Johnny lays on the bed where you just were. You feel a few light kisses against your shoulder as you’re set down, another pair of large hands grabbing at your ass. Johnny pulls you in for another kiss, as John wipes your back off. Johnny is getting handsy, touch traveling up and down the length of your body. “My turn,” he says with a smirk, one of his hands reaches behind your legs to grab his cock and sinks into you. He clutches you with a whimper, still as he adjusts to the feeling. “Ah- Damn, you feel so good, so fucking wet for me, yeah?” He starts moving again, gripping your ass tightly as he fucks himself into you. You’re so fucked out, your hair messy, and your eyes half-open, high-pitched moans pushed from your lips. You’ve almost forgotten about John when…

You feel it, his cock gently pressing below Johnny’s, the grip on your ass being used to spread them further apart. You’ve barely got time to think before he sinks in, stretching you out to the point you’re seeing stars. Both men whine at the feeling, of movement and your walls so tight around them. You feel so full, so good, with both of their thick cocks inside you. John starts to move, thrusting against Johnny. He reaches out and grabs your throat again, much less gently than before. This is a lot for them too, as Johnny writhes under you, cries of pleasure loud compared to your much more breathy ones. But it’s not long until he starts moving too, opposite to John. When one thrusts in, the other pulls out slightly, and back and forth for what feels like forever. If you weren’t being so tightly held, you would’ve collapsed much earlier. Johnny is much closer to cumming, head pressed against the bed and eyes screwed shut. He manages to get out a whiny, “Oh fuck,” before he cums, body curling into yours and biting against your shoulder for stability. He flops against the bed, letting his spent cock pull out of you. Now with free reign of you, John speeds up, at a breakneck pace as you bounce, eyes rolled back into your head as you bounce. Johnny manages to look up slightly, taking in the sight of you, a satisfied smile on his face. John tightens his grip as he sputters out, “Shit, ‘m gonna cum,” a final stutter of his hips as you feel it, the warmth filling you.

As he finally pulls out, Johnny helps steer you to lie on the bed. Both men stand over you, watching you pant and both of their cum drip out of you. Johnny turns his head to look at John, a wide, tired smile on his face. “I told you they’d be a great fuck.” Which earns him a smack on the head from John. “I knew it, you knew it, but you couldn’t have waited a little longer before speaking, dumbass?” Defensively, Johnny’s hands go up. “C’mon, it’s a compliment!”