#✮⋆˙ - when i knock at a hundred and two

[seiya-starsniper]

WIP Tag Game

tagged by @tj-dragonblade, thanks for the tag friend! <3

Rules: Share 100 words or so of a WIP, and then add an extra line

I'm writing a little thing for @amielot's horse girl AU, and since it's the most recent thing I've worked on, and what I felt like working on tonight, here's a sneak peek, that is definitely more than a hundred or so words 😅

Content warnings: Gun violence, somewhat graphic depiction of a man with his face blown off

Dream turns, aiming now to rush to Hob's aid, but just as he gets close to where they're fighting, the man with the gun ends up behind Hob and then wraps an arm around Hob’s neck. He grins cruelly at Dream as Hob struggles beneath his hold. Dream whinnies angrily, but he can’t move any further. He's furiously close, and yet not close enough to reach Hob in time, even if he gallops, even if he runs. Then the man points the gun directly at Hob's head. Hob doesn’t let him get any further with the threat. He lurches his entire body backwards, the force of the movement knocking them both off balance. While the man is distracted and trying to rebalance himself, Hob frees one of his hands and repositions the barrel directly underneath the man’s chin. He pulls the trigger before the man can react.  The resulting bang! rings loudly in the other quiet forest, and Dream winces as the sound thunders through his sensitive ears. There’s a high pitched whine that follows soon after, and Dream staggers, his entire equilibrium now thrown off balance. He can smell blood and smoke and death. Everything is suddenly too loud; the rustling of the leaves, the screech of the birds as they flee from nearby branches, the sound of his own heartbeat.  Dream shuts his eyes, trying to will the nausea that overtakes him to go away. He barely registers the remaining two men from Burgess’s group running off in the opposite direction, leaving him and Hob alone. Hob. Dream can’t hear Hob, not over the loud, pulsing, ringing in his ears. While he was certain Hob wasn’t dead, Dream still had to see proof of life with his own eyes. Groaning in pain, Dream forces himself to take a few steadying breaths to calm himself, his entire body shaking uncontrollably. Breathing feels like he's swallowing glass, but it gets easier with each slow inhale and exhale. His heart eventually calms, and Dream feels somewhat proud that he's been able to remain upright the entire time. When he’s able to open his eyes again, the first thing he sees is the man with the gun lying dead just inches away from Hob, his entire face blown clean off. Blood and viscera, and what Dream assumes are bits of the man’s brain, are scattered on the forest floor. When Dream lifts his gaze to finally look up at Hob, his eyes widen and he feels his pulse jump as the sight. The majority of Hob’s face and upper body is covered in blood and bits of flesh that slowly drip down the man’s clothes, bathing him in a sea of red. Dream notices that some small fragments of bone have stuck to Hob’s hair, likely parts of the other man’s skull. Hob is panting heavily, but then he suddenly collapses next to the disfigured remains of his assailant, as if whatever invisible force holding him upright had suddenly cut loose its strings. He groans, burying his face in bloodied hands, smearing it across the rest of his face. Hob doesn’t even seem to notice the state he’s in, he’s likely too preoccupied with the same kind of nausea Dream had been feeling just moments ago. Dream imagines whatever ringing Hob must hear in his head is likely even worse than what Dream experienced, due to the man’s proximity to the weapon when it fired. 

tagging with no pressure @bazzybelle @five-and-dimes @kydrogendragon @valiantstarlights @blueberrymffn @gabessquishytum @apocraphelion

[imaginesbymonika]

She's electric | Part 6

Pairing: Liam Gallagher x fem!bassist reader

Plot: Liam's hatred for Blur runs deep. However, no matter how much he hates them and their stupid music - he cannot seem to hate their bassist.

Last Part

Liam finds her standing outside, hiding from the rain underneath the extended rooftop. He didn’t even look for her, yet there he was: leaning against the brick wall while lighting up a cigarette, contemplating whether or not he should approach her. What a fucking stupid déjà vu. He scoffs while his heart beats violently against his ribcage. She always had this effect on him, there was no denying that.

He sighs, before eventually walking up to her:” You’re alright, Princess?”, he mutters while putting the coffin nail between his lips. He watches how she shakes her head:” Can’t believe you have the nerve to call me that.”

“Right, sorry.”, he mumbles, while he turns his head. He watches how big raindrops fall to the ground and disappear down the drain:” Force of habit, I guess.” Y/N however doesn’t answer, something is lingering in the air and neither one of them knows if it’s hatred or longing. Maybe both have always been the same.

The singer takes another step toward her, holding his breath while he waits for some reaction. But when she doesn’t move away, he inspects her features for any signs of softness. There have to be some left. “Look.”, he starts:” I- I am sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to act like a jealous dickhead. Seeing you again just brought back some memories, it’s-.”

“What memories?”

“Memories of us.”

Y/N closes her eyes and scoffs:” It’s been over twenty years, Liam.” Her voice is quiet and peaceful, but it sounds rather forced than anything else. The man in front of her takes an uneasy drag of his cigarette before answering:” I know. I know. It’s been such a long time and I know I shouldn’t care- but I do. Makes me wonder what could’ve been.”

Y/N furrows her eyebrows as she runs a hand through her hair:” This is unbelievable.” “What? Don’t have any feelings left for me? After everything we’ve been through you’re just apathetic like that?” At this point, he is almost a hundred percent sure that he’s going to suffer a heart attack- or possibly a stroke. Perhaps even both at the same time.

“How are the children?”, Y/N asks, tearing her gaze off the man. There’s a smile forming on his lips, and for a second he doesn’t care about the quick change in topic:” They’re good, yeah. All grown up now, can you believe that?” Y/N chuckles, while staring at her nails:” Happy for you.” Liam’s smile fades away when he suddenly remembers that she doesn’t have any of her own. Was that his fault? He can almost see the wall between the two of them; tall and thick.

“Can we talk? Properly?”

“About what?”, her voice is suddenly foreign and he catches a glimpse of how another brick is put on top of it. “About us.”, he replies and tosses the finished cigarette into a puddle, the rain consumes the grey smoke:” There’s just some stuff left unsaid- we need to sort that bullshit out.”

“Need to sort it out?”, she recites staring at him with wide eyes:” Now?! God, fuck, this is so pathetic!”, she laughs out loud but it sounds rather panicky. “Why is it so pathetic?!”, Liam retorts, he is putting his heart on a platter and she just throws it on the dirty ground all together:” You’re telling me you don’t regret a single thing?”

Y/N annoyingly blinks at him:” Of course, I have regrets, Liam. Fuck you! Remember how I tried to talk to you and you fucking ignored my calls?!” She shoves him away from her, while hot tears arise in her eyes:” Fuck you. Two months later you had your ex knocked up with your oldest. How do you think I felt when I read that in the papers?!”

Liam sighs and leans back against the wall, he crosses his arms and looks down at the woman he thought he’d marry one day. Everyone thought he would.

“You moved on like it was nothing, Liam.”, Y/N’s voice is unstable. She walks past him towards the exit and quickly opens the door:” Goodbye, Liam.”

“I didn’t.”

If the rain hadn’t stopped falling, she probably wouldn’t have heard him. She lets the door fall shut again:” What?” Her head twists in his direction and her eyes linger on his back. The green parka almost looks brown.

“I didn’t move on from you. Why do ya think all my relationships have failed?“, he scoffs:” I’ve tried everything to get over you; alcohol, drugs… women. You know… it never worked.” He lights himself a new cigarette:” Nothing ever worked.”

Y/N doesn’t answers she simply just stares.

“And I know I hurt you. It’s one of my biggest regrets in life. You were the best thing that ever happened to me and I threw it away because at the end of the day i’m an angry and insecure twat.”

Y/N walks back to her original place in front of him, while holding her hand out. Liam follows her gaze and hands her the cigarette when he realizes what she’s asking for:” That’s it? No shouting?” “Do you want me to yell at you?”, she raises an eyebrow at him.

He scoffs, but there’s a bit of enjoyment to it:” No, of course not…No.” “You know, I do…I do still care about you.”, she suddenly says, feet kicking away a few small stones on the ground:” But I don’t know what mending things…talking about what happened would change. I am 46 and you’re 51.”

Liam moves closer, his eyes are scanning her features. They move over every wrinkle, yet he couldn’t imagine thinking anyone could ever be more beautiful. “I don’t care. And I know deep down you don’t care either. Otherwise you wouldn’t be standing here with me.” There’s some truth to that and Y/N is very much aware of it. Another thing she is painfully conscious of is how close the two of them are standing together. “No one.”, he mutters:” No one has ever come close to making me feel the way you did.”

Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat while she stares up at him through her lashes:” No one?”, she whispers. And he nods:” You can’t forget the love of your life like that, can ya?“

[sendpseuds]

Wip Wednesday - Spirit Halloween

The Halloween decorations are going up and I don’t remember the last time I had something for wip Wednesday so you’re getting a long one

Enjoy 🖤

The clock on the wall sounds like a heartbeat.

The second hand pulls back and lurches forward, steady and measured and maddening.

One-two. One-two. One-two.

It's loud and irritating, but honestly, anything is better than listening to The Monster Mash for the millionth time tonight.

No one has set foot in this temporarily occupied warehouse in over an hour and Anakin is beyond ready to get the fuck out of here.

The closing checklist is almost complete— the changing rooms have been cleared of unwanted costumes, each cheap plastic garment put back in its package and out on display, the register has been counted, the floors have been swiffered, the door has been locked. All he has to do is shut down the animatronics, turn off the lights and—

"Jesus-fucking-Christ," Anakin barks when a knock at the door nearly startles him out of his skin, clutching his chest to feel the frantic onetwo onetwo onetwo of his own heart fast outpacing the clock's suddenly sluggish tempo.

It takes a moment to catch his breath, his pulse still thundering in his ears when he looks up to find a man wearing a dark suit and an apologetic expression.

Normally, Anakin would just ignore the guy — maybe shout, 'We're closed,' and point at his watchless wrist before rolling his eyes and returning to his end-of-night checklist — but when the man raises his hand to give an almost adorably embarrassed wave, Anakin finds himself unlocking the door before he can think twice.

"I'm terribly sorry," the stranger says before the door is even open, rushed and painfully polite, "I didn't mean to frighten you."

He sounds like he stepped out of some critically acclaimed period drama about dukes and duchesses, and while he's not wearing coattails or a top hat he definitely looks like he could be a lord or something.

"It's fine," Anakin chuckles, a strange nervous tickle in the back of his throat as he breathes in the cold night air, shifting his weight slightly and trying to remember why exactly he opened the door in the first place, "Look, man, I'm really sorry, but we're—"

"You're closed," the man says before he can finish, nodding his head in acknowledgment, standing up a straighter like he thinks he can match Anakin's height, "I realize that and I apologize, but I was hoping that you could—"

"Sorry, dude," Anakin interrupts, shaking his head and finding himself strangely reluctant when the man frowns, "Already shut down the registers, couldn't sell you anything even if I wanted to."

His eyes drop in disappointment, lips in a thin line, but when his brows raise, head tilted to one side, Anakin lets out a low sigh, realizing this man isn't ready to give up.

"Cash?"

And if that doesn't pique Anakin's interest.

"I have—" the man murmurs absently, pulling out a sleek leather wallet to leaf through the contents and Anakin can't help the way he perks up when he sees at least one, two, three bills with three digits in the corner, "Four— no, five hundred and one dollars."

Anakin needs to swallow a laugh because who the fuck carries around that much cash?

"Anything not spent on the costume is yours."

Then, he nearly chokes.

That's— that's—

Honestly, that's not even a month's rent, but to Anakin Skywalker, five hundred dollars is a lot of money.

It's a trip home to visit mom.

It's a nice birthday gift for Ahsoka.

It's breathing room.

It's one hell of a negotiation tactic.

"That desperate, huh?" Anakin manages to ask, his mind already running through exactly what he needs to do to not get caught.

"You have no idea," the stranger hums, leaning forward just enough that Anakin can see the way his smile wrinkles his eyes at the edges, "You're my only hope."

Anakin shivers.

"Five hundred dollars?" He confirms, swallowing back the wild feeling still racing down his spine.

"Five hundred and one," the man grins, and for the first time, Anakin realizes his eyes shine like silver.

"Alright," he breathes, something strange studdering his heart as he holds the door open, "Come on in."

[abiiors]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚘 — 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚒

✧ — 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

✮ a/n: matty in his hashtag feminist era for this one as you'll see. following the footsteps of the 75blr greats and furthering the munch matty agenda here <33

✮ cw: smut, oral sex (f receiving), matty yaps. SO. MUCH.

✮ wc: 2.8k

matty’s hand slams over the front door, half covering the 102 painted on it—her flat number. jules doesn’t bother caring. for one, his hand is holding onto her waist, his mouth hot on hers, kissing her with such hunger that her head spins. and she knows there’s a near zero chance carly would be home on a friday night and not out somewhere with adam. 

“wait, keys,” jules pants, trying to rummage through her purse without breaking the kiss. it’s damn near impossible though, but she doesn’t want to let go. not when his mouth feels so fucking good on hers. 

matty mumbles something and moves on to kissing her neck, grinding his hips into hers where she can feel just how turned on he is. 

with one hand inside his t-shirt, she somehow manages to open the door. matty holds onto her jaw, kissing her all over again. his teeth tug at her bottom lip, and jules drops her purse somewhere on the floor, kicks her heels off too. 

“fuck,” he groans, crushing their bodies together. 

this…she’s rarely felt this… 

the only time jules ever remembers feeling any real fire and lust in her body, a feeling of electricity coursing through her veins, was the early days. days where she would dream about max and giggle like a school girl every time he touched her. 

but that was different. there were feelings involved. 

the only thing jules feels for matty in unbridled lust. she’s sure he feels the same. 

“to your bedroom,” he pants, briefly breaking away from her. she takes him by the hand, pulling her down the corridor towards her room. halfway through, he tugs on her elbow, pushing her against the wall and placing his hand behind her head at the last minute. and then his mouth is back on hers, his hand inching under her dress. 

jules laughs into the kiss. “my room is two feet away.”

“too far,” he groans and hitches her leg around his waist. 

his hands move up her leg, from the back of her knee to up her thigh and then to her ass again, thoroughly feeling every inch of skin. his touch is so hungry, and she can’t help but feel wanted, desired. 

“t-touch me,” she breathes, expecting him to take charge completely, to unzip her dress and touch her tits like max would… she really needs to fucking stop thinking about max. 

“tell me what you like,” his voice comes out low and deep. 

“i—” jules chokes, unable to think of a single thing. 

a different kind of heat creeps over her cheeks then, one that has nothing to do with desire and everything to do with embarrassment. it’s a simple question really, a logical question considering they don’t know each other. 

and yet…jules can’t come up with an answer. 

“the—” she has to clear her throat “—usual stuff. y’know?”

matty stops. his hold on her her ass loosens and his lips stop moving on her jaw. a second later, he puts a smidge of distance between them. 

“i don’t know…”

“i, um,” she just stares at him like a fucking idiot. 

the house is dark, quiet, none of them had bothered to stop and turn on the lights of course. but she can see a clear outline of his face in the moonlight, can see the slight confusion in his eyes. 

“you know, stuff guys usually do…” she finishes weakly, hoping he’d just carry on. she just wants a good shag, not to play twenty-one questions. turns out whatever she says is the wrong answer. 

“no, jules. i didn’t ask what guys usually do, i asked what do you like.”

“i like…” she bites her lip and stares at him, at his now messed up curls and dark eyes. “i like whatever you like.”

another moment passes and matty steps back a bit more. her stomach flips. how is she fucking this up so badly and they haven’t even started yet? is she not supposed to let him do whatever he wants? she’d done all the things right, too! given him verbal consent, quite the enthusiastic consent if she thinks about the cab ride back home…

“jules,” he blinks, “are you…are you a virgin?”

“what? no!” she’s so taken aback that she lets go of his t-shirt, crossing her arms in front of his chest. “i was in a three year long relationship, matty, why would you think i was a virgin?!”

he holds his hands up, trying to placate her. “then how the fuck do you not know what you like?”

“i don’t know!” she runs a hand through her hair. she can already feel the tangles that matty’s caused. “ma—my ex and i usually just did things his way. he was, uh, more experienced than me anyway.”

“uh-huh,” matty blinks, “and can you tell me what you did?”

“now?!” her voice rises another octave.

“yes, jules.”

the more she stares at him, the more she realises just how serious he is. they’re still touching each other, she can still feel his hardness pressing into her thigh and can still feel wetness pooling between her legs. but there’s also the mortification of the situation. 

“ugh, fine,” she croaks. “we did…well, the usual—”

“specifics, please.”

she glares at matty when he interrupts her, but he’s right. she needs to be more specific. “we did missionary, sometimes i went down on him.” her words have a slight bite to them. 

“and any other partners?” his voice is still eerily calm, like he’s trying not to start an argument with her. it has the exact opposite effect though. 

“are we taking each other’s sexual history here, what—”

“jules,” he almost pleads, “i promise you, i’m not trying to be daft. i do really want to know.”

so fine, he seems earnest enough. he doesn’t look like he’s trying to make fun of her, or is one of those guys who’ll judge her based on the amount of people she’s been with and would call her a ‘loose woman’ if it exceeds some made-up number. 

not that it even counts in her case. 

“well,” she looks to her feet, flushing a little, “my ex was my first. and only.”

“and that’s all you did…” matty clears his throat but jules isn’t stupid. she knows what a forced normal tone sounds like. “missionary and blow jobs?”

a lump forms in her throat. matty is the last person she needs stupid judgement from. she turns her face to one side, lightly pushing him away. 

“maybe this was a bad idea—”

“jules, jules, listen to me,” she’s surprised when he holds her face between his hands, cradles it almost, “we can figure out what you like, okay? if you still want that.”

a small part of her knows that she’s got this all wrong. that he’s not trying to be judgemental and an asshole. maybe he really is trying to help, and he’s just shit at communicating it. 

“we can just focus on you today. i can go down on you and we’ll stop there…”

“oh.” she blinks a little, trying to get rid of the stinging in her eyes. “uh, i don’t know, my ex said… he said it’s not really a great experience for girls?”

the way his jaw drops is enough to clue her in. jules waits for the ridicule, waits for him to laugh at her inexperience or just nod and continue kissing her. instead he shakes his head and stands up a little straighter. 

“do you trust me?”

does she? she doesn’t even fully know him. matty seems to read her face like she’s an open book. 

“look, i know we don’t really know each other. but as far as this is concerned, just sex, do you trust me?”

something in her gut tells her to say yes and so she nods, softening a little. 

“and do you still want to have sex with me?”

“yes,” she admits, “i do.”

she waits for more questions, waits for some other remarks he might have. instead matty leans in and kisses her. it’s not as rough as the last time, but she won’t exactly call it a tender kiss either. it’s somewhere in between, like he simply wants her to forget the world and focus on him. and so that’s what she does. 

moments later, jules is back to touching him, his skin and his hair and the buckle of his jeans. matty moves her hands away gently. 

“let’s focus on you today,” he says. “jump.”

she wants to object. sex is a two-way street, she wants him to have fun too. but something in her tells her not to argue. and so she does as she’s told and wraps his legs around his waist, feeling his solid body against hers and his hands under her ass. 

matty starts moving, walking them towards the bedroom. and jules just kisses him harder.

“lie down for me.” matty’s voice is a soft sound that dances over her skin, leaves goosebumps in its wake too. or it could be the fact that, she’s lying down entirely naked (save her underwear) on this bed, while he’s still wearing his jeans. 

their clothes are in a pile in a corner—her dress and his t-shirt—discarded after precisely three seconds of getting to her bedroom. she was excited then, gasping for breath and the touch of his fingers. but now as she lays down on the bed—her nipples peaked and her body bare—jules feels the first flutters of nervousness. 

“i’m going to make you feel good, okay?” he moves, slots himself between her legs until they’re kissing again and their chests brush together. the buckle of his belt brushes against her clit and jules gasps. 

matty smirks. “it’s going to be… so much better than that.”

“i just want to feel good…” jules sighs, feeling the brush of his fingers against her thigh, against the sweet spot just under her hipbone. it tickles a little, but more than that it makes her entire body tingle. 

“can i?” matty hooks a finger in her underwear, looking at her for permission. she nods, almost absently, distracted by the way he looks in the moonlight. 

the grown out parts of his mohawk are still quite short but some of the strands are already starting to curl, fighting to get back to their previous shape. his sharp cheekbones, and his even sharper jaw have a five o’clock shadow on them. jules wonders how it would feel between her legs.

would it burn? would it be a good burn?

at some point, she has to get rid of max’s voice at the back of her head telling her how to feel in her own body, telling her what she would enjoy and what she won’t rather than her finding out. and maybe this feels like the first step—to do something he’d always discouraged in their relationship. besides, the thoughts of matty’s tongue are making her rather eager now. 

jules lifts her hips when he pulls her underwear down and then there she is—completely naked, hoping he likes what he sees. 

matty sucks in a breath, shamelessly checking her out. his eyes roam over her tits and the dainty little pendant that rests between them, an antique opal that she’d saved months for. he reaches out and touches her, the pendant and then one of her nipples.

his thumb rolls over it, pinching it next when she hisses. she feels a current run through her body—from his fingers straight down between her legs. 

“more,” she gasps. matty obliges, tugging at it a little harsher than last time, and her back almost arches off the bed. 

she could cum from this alone, she’s sure of it. 

matty lowers himself between her legs, mouth over her stomach now and eyes still firmly on her. whenever she can manage to keep her eyes open she stares at him. she stares at his hair falling into his eyes, tickling her too, stares at his gorgeous lips pressing against her skin, moving lower and lower and lower until he’s right below her belly button. 

“need you to spread your legs a little more okay?” his tone is gentle, sure, but there is nothing gentle about his voice. it sounds barely like him, turned almost gravelly with lust. jules does as she’s told, trying not to shy away when he looks between her legs and looks back up at her. 

“i’m ready,” she says, more for her benefit than his, but he nods regardless. 

the first kiss on the inside of her thigh sets her skin on fire. this isn’t one of the soft kisses he’d placed on her stomach, this one is a little rougher. she feels his stubble, the roughness of each hair rubbing against her thigh. a slight graze, and still it’s enough for her to moan. 

he hasn’t even done anything yet and she’s already quivering. 

“god, you’re gorgeous,” matty whispers, sounding like he’s talking to himself than to her but jules still feels a flush grow over her cheeks.

the next touch she feels is the flick of his tongue right over her clit, sending the billions of neurons in her body into a frenzy. it’s one small touch and yet jules sees fireworks behind her eyelids already, feels even more turned on than she is. 

her reaction makes him bolder. matty holds onto her thighs with both hands, pulling her down in one fluid motion until his mouth his fully latched onto her clit. and then he sucks, tongue and teeth and lips working in tandem. the bedroom falls away from her as she squeezes her legs around his head and holds him in place. 

“ohmygod,” she pants, trying to keep up with the intensity of everything happening in her body, the way his tongue feels and the way his fingers dig into her body. it’s like sex but ten times better. 

jules clenches around nothing, wishing she could feel him, or his fingers at least. but then his tongue slides into her, nose pushing into her clit, and all the what ifs die on her tongue. 

“doing so good…” matty whispers, and the vibrations of his words travel straight through her, making her head spin. 

how had someone ever convinced her that this won’t make her feel good, how had she ever believed that?! jules screams out his name when he flicks his tongue inside her, big licks and tiny one, creating a rhythm, making her go insane. 

once or twice he even nips at her thighs softly, laughing at her hisses and whimpers. and she feels everything, feels all his touches in detail until her head is spinning, and she can only focus on the feeling building near the base of her spine—a knot tightening and tightening, making her thrust her hips and clench around air, making her tug onto his hair and squeeze his head. 

her thighs feel the burn—she doesn’t know if it’s from his stubble or from all the flexing, not like she cares at the moment. all she wants to do is blindly chase that feeling. 

it’s so close she can feel taste it in the air. 

“i—” she chokes, “i want—”

“what do you want?” matty looks up at her, mouth sinfully wet, presses a kiss right above her cunt, “tell me what you want.”

“i want to cum, i—” she gasps, feeling his lips around her clit, “i want to feel good…”

although she’s so close it won’t take him another second. all it takes is another flick of his tongue, right over her clit, and jules feels the knot snap. her mind goes blank, stars wink at the back of her eyelids, and she feels herself let go, feels wetness pool between her legs again, feels matty’s tongue still, lapping at it. letting her ride her orgasm. 

and she does, she grinds against his face shamelessly, getting as much of him as it takes, holds onto his hair until she can feel herself returning to her body. 

matty keeps up with everything she puts him through. still between her legs, kissing and teasing her as she’s trying to open her eyes, enjoying the way her head spins. 

la petite mort, the small death… jules finally realises why it’s called that. she really does feel like a new woman. matty, between her legs, looks as beautiful as an angel—her own angel of small death, she thinks. 

“was that bad then?” he smirks, mouth sinful, filthy, wet with her release. 

“can we go again?” she asks instead of answering. 

matty laughs, he truly laughs. jules wonders if she’s asked for too much, if he’s going to tell her that it’s a give and take, that he wants something in return if she wants him to go again. 

matty places a tiny kiss on her hip. “oh darling, we can go as many times as you want.”

one sentence and she feels it again, the familiar heat in her stomach. she realises he’s already broken a rule—no pet names—and it’s only their first time too.

but then matty dips his face back between her legs. and jules doesn’t even bother caring about that at all.

[speedlimit15]

when i was younger and fully unhinged i would drive so fast on the highway at night to the mad max fury road soundtrack and feel every emotion simultaneously

[devil-in-hiding]

Okay but Virgin!Reader who is absolutely terrified of intimacy. It’s not a lack of knowledge on the subject; she’s knows more about it than a retired pornstar. But she just can’t handle the thought of giving herself away, especially to someone she doesn’t know or feels like she can’t trust! Back where she comes from, trust is a privilege and respect is a must. But what happens when she meets brutal, gruff, and one hundred and ten percent dangerous Simon Riley, who’s way more experienced and has a history of fucking just to let off some steam.

Ughhhhh 😵‍💫

Simon is your neighbor. Your first interaction is when he almost knocks you over in the hall, only offering a grunt and cold glare before slamming his apartment door shut.

It remains that way for a year or so, the rare times you do see him home. Nothing is ever said, but he acknowledges you with a grunt, and you always return a small nod of greeting. He’s cold and gruff, but every time he gets home from wherever he goes, you have to hole up in the living room to escape the moans and his headboard banging into your wall. the following mornings you can hardly look him in the eye as he stares at you rushing towards the stairs.

It’s not until after a particularly bad date, who is stubbornly trying to invite himself into your apartment, that Simon actually speaks.

“Jake please, I had a nice time but I have to get up early for work.” You protest, trying to block your doorway and the guy scoffs. “C’mon, you gonna leave me hangin like that?” He frowns, trying to shoulder past you.

“I would like you to leave now.”

“Listen here you little bitch, I’ve had to put up with staring at that rack all night, the least you can do is-“

“Think the lady told you to get the fuck out mate.” A deep voice growls, and the two of you jump, and your eyes widen at seeing Simon there, and there’s a dark look in his eyes as he stares down your ‘date’

“Hey man, this is none of you-“

“Considering this nice woman is my neighbor, I’m making it my fucking business.” He states before quite literally lifting Jake by the scruff of his neck and throwing him out into the hallway. “I see you bothering her again and I’ll kick your sorry ass up and down this god damn complex you got that?”

Jake is gone before Simon is done talking. You hear him take a deep breath, shoulders relaxing before he turns to face you, and you’re surprised by the concern showing in his eyes.

“That fuckhead didn’t hurt you, did he?” He asks, and you’re shocked this man’s voice can be so soft. You’re frozen, just staring at him before you find your voice.

“N-no, no I’m okay, he was just trying to shoulder past me.” You stutter out, nervously playing with your fingers. Your heart stops when one of his large hands reaches up, gently brushing your hair away from your face.

“Sorry it took me so long, couldn’t tell if it was you I was hearing.” He admits, and your heart flutters. He knows your voice?

He talks to you more after that, helping you with groceries when your hands are full, stopping by to ask if you’d watch his apartment while he’s away on deployment. You start to look forward to the two knocks on your door, finding Simon waiting for you, crinkles around his eyes letting you know he’s smiling at you.

But the women still come, along with your nights camped out in the living room, you’re heart just a bit heavier every time.

(might turn this into something)

[ladysharmaa]

Why don't you love me?

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Y/n and Anthony are in an arranged marriage. When she stops trying to make the relationship work and be the perfect wife, Anthony realizes what he's lost. Will he be able to get her back?

(gif is not mine)

It wasn't the marriage she wanted. And it wasn't what he wanted, because, in fact, he didn't even want to be married. And he didn't mind showing it. But for Y/n, she tried to make the best of their unfortunate situation.

It all started at the beginning of the season when Violet Bridgerton decided that her firstborn had been single for too long. So, she spoke to Y/n's parents, who were good friends of hers, and they both decided that a marriage between the two would be beneficial to both families. Anthony was going to have the support of someone who would take Violet's place as Viscountess and Lady Bridgerton. For Y/n's life, in this society, having a husband was essential and this marriage would allow social advancement.

Thus, Anthony and Y/n agreed with this decision. The preparation for the wedding was carried out quickly and this event was the biggest news for days. Lady Whistledown didn't help matters either by immediately releasing an advert showing her doubts about Anthony having a wife.

This only worsened Y/n's mood, who already feared being married to Viscount Bridgerton, as she was now doubting all the lovers Anthony could take to their bed. Would he not respect their marriage? Did she just want an heir and take care of the children? With these doubts, she said the "I do" in front of hundreds of people watching the ceremony, and allowed just one tear to fall.

From the beginning, Anthony made a point of making it clear that their marriage was purely a compromise, and that he would never truly love her. He was going to fulfill his role and try to have an heir and outside the house, they would act like a happy couple, but it wouldn't go beyond that. In silence, Y/n just offered him a nod, showing that she understood.

However, since then, nothing has happened between them. Anthony allowed her to have her own room, something Y/n was more than grateful for. Having to look at the face of her husband who would never love her every time she fell asleep would be too painful.

She was expecting that on some nights he would enter her room to try to get her with child. But none of that happened, which only confused Y/n more. Was he so disgusted by the idea of being married to her that he didn't even want to have pleasure with her?

So she tried to distract herself with tasks that could take some of the work off Anthony's shoulders and try to be the perfect wife. But Anthony still refused to spend more than five minutes alone with her. At breakfast, he was already at the office when Y/n woke up to go eat, at night he preferred to spend time with his brothers instead of returning home. He was making everyone's life difficult and Y/n was starting to get more and more sad. Would this be her routine until the end of her life? Trying to please a husband who didn't want her?

It was on a summer afternoon that Y/n, upon returning from a social gathering with Anthony's mother and sister, realized how hot the mansion was. She quickly remembered how Viscount's office, the few times she had been there, was directly in the sun which made it even hotter. So she decided to be brave and try to have at least a friendly relationship with her husband, so she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

With growing nerves, Y/n went to Anthony's office door and knocked on the wood. After hearing Anthony's voice, she opened the door, finding him plus Benedict, who had become good friends with Y/n.

"Oh, I apologize if I am interrupting." she said shyly, keeping to the doorway.

"You are." Anthony immediately agreed in a deep voice, not paying attention to her and turning his attention back to the papers.

At the same time, his brother hurried to assure Y/n, "You're not interrupting anything. You even saved me from Anthony's boring lecture here."

The woman smiled uncomfortably. "Right. I just came to bring you a cup of water. It's so warm outside. I wasn't aware you were here, Mr. Bridgerton, but I can go and also bring you some water."

"Thank you, Y/n, I would—"

However, he couldn't finish his sentence as Anthony hit the table, causing his wife to jump in fright and immediately take a step back. Her reaction made Anthony's expression show some regret, but he quickly hid it. A silence fell between the three.

"I'm fed up, Y/n! Can't you understand that men are trying to work?! Go back to your life of looking at flowers and walking around without having to do anything and leave!"

Y/n's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to understand what had just happened. Finally, she pursed her lips and her eyes turned cold. "I apologize, Lord Bridgerton. It won't happen again. If you'll excuse me."

When she left the room, Benedict looked at his brother in shock. "That was so harsh. The poor girl was trying to be nice and cared enough to bring you a glass of water. If you don't want it, I'll have it. I'm talking about the glass and her."

"Don't you dare." he muttered with a clenched jaw, glaring furiously at Benedict. Where did this anger come from just thinking about Y/n with another man? "Now, let's go back to discuss how you spent money on a bet."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Y/n's behavior with Anthony changed completely. Everyone noticed that the Viscountess finally reached her limit, and stopped being the friendly wife, now looking coldly at her husband whenever they passed each other in the mansion. However, as a couple and heads of the family, they still had obligations to fulfill together.

Public appearances were more tense, but they still managed to keep a smile on their faces and talk to all the ladies who asked about their marriage and when they would have children, giving short answers so that nothing would end up in Lady Whistledown's hands. They also attended a horse race, even betting on different horses that would win. Y/n ended up winning the bet, and her smug look irritated Anthony for the rest of the day, something his brothers were quick to tease him about.

But despite not liking Anthony after his cruel words, which Y/n still thought about constantly, she adored his sisters and mother. They had accepted Y/n into the family, including her in their gatherings and even being a should to cry on. Daphne had already said more than once that she would have no problem going to Anthony and try to talk some sense into him, but Y/n refused. Anthony already didn't like her, if he thought she was turning his family against him he would hate her even more. And she didn't need to make her life worse than it already was.

One day, when she went with Anthony to the Bridgerton mansion to drop off some documents, Hyacinth, Anthony's younger sister, took her aside. Y/n followed the girl to the bathroom where she, with teary eyes and trembling lips, asked her if she was going to die when she started bleeding from her lady parts. Hyacinth also revealed to her that she wanted to go to her mother, but she had gone shopping with Francesca and was alone at home with just Collin. Y/n, very calmly and gently, assured her that it was a normal thing and that all women went through this, explaining what she should do.

It was no secret that Y/n was happy that Hyacinth trusted her with this scary situation and that she was able to help the girl. Despite all the problems in her marriage, she now had a role in helping Anthony's sisters and she never wanted to fail in that.

To Y/n's surprise, Hyacinth ended up giving her a big hug, remaining attached to her for the rest of the afternoon. Her period was making her so affectionate, more than she already was, that Y/n couldn't stop a big smile from appearing on her face at receiving so much affection.

Anthony, when he finally finished talking to Collin about the documents he brought, I was surprised to see his sister on the couch hugging Y/n. "Hyacinth, what are you doing?"

"Hugging my sister-in-law, brother. But you don't know what that is, do you?" she snapped. The girl's change in mood made Y/n have to put a hand over her mouth to keep Anthony from hearing the laughter that escaped her.

The shock on Anthony's face was comical. His little sister was basically choosing Y/n over him. And in truth, he didn't judge her because his wife was, without a doubt, better than him. And she deserved so much better.

On the other hand, his heart warmed when he saw the bond that the two had created. It was clear that Y/n felt great affection for his family. Could it be that if he had accepted this marriage from the beginning, they would now be a happy family? That they would spend afternoons together, cuddling on the couch and talking to his siblings? All these thoughts were racing through his mind, and the guilt was growing so much that he felt like he was going to vomit.

"Lord Bridgerton?" that sweet voice he had come to adore brought him out of his thoughts. He hated that since he snapped at her, she never called him by his first name again.

"What?" he asked, still disoriented.

Y/n was looking at him like he was stupid. "I asked if you were ready to leave. Hyacinth already went to her room to rest. I would like to do the same. So you must make haste."

Her bossy tone almost made his lips curl into a smile, but he controlled himself in time. "Of course, wife. We shall leave now. But I have to ask, what happened between you and my sister?"

"All you need to know is that she's fine and she's a woman now. But don't worry, as your wife, I'll handle these situations. Unless you prefer me to go look at the flowers, take a walk, and do nothing?"

The hint, which was delivered with great anger, caused the man to blush in shame and lower his head. Y/n didn't wait for his answer, taking her coat from a maid and walking to the carriage. He had screwed everything up.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A few more days had passed and the situation between Y/n and Anthony had only gotten stranger. The day after the situation with Hyacinth, Y/n was coming down from her room to go get breakfast, as she always did, when she came across Anthony at the table, appearing to be waiting for her to eat.

Y/n stopped abruptly, looking at him in shock. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for you so we can have breakfast. I have to go see my brothers again today to talk business, so I was thinking you could come with me and spend some time with my sisters. My mother She's also been saying how she hasn't seen you in a while. That is, only if you want to go. If not, I'll just go… Or I'll stay here to keep you company, whatever you want." he choked up, finishing his speech by drinking some milk, perhaps to calm his nerves.

Y/n remained in place without moving. She looked at Anthony strangely, as if doubting that those words had even come out of his mouth.

"It was silly of me to ask—"

"No," she interrupted him. "It's fine. I would actually like to go and spend time with your sisters. They are lovely. I shall go get ready then."

"Aren't you going to have breakfast with me first?"

"Lord Bridgerton, I've been eating breakfast alone since we got married and I came to live with you. I think you can handle doing the same for a day. Excuse me." she said with an exaggerated smile, turning her back on him and starting to go back to her room. However, she turned back to go get a cake that was on the table. "But I'm hungry so I will eat this in my chambers."

"Call me Anthony!" he exclaimed before she was completely gone. He had a desperate look, almost looking like he needed to hear his name come out of her lips.

"No."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Like every year, the Queen decided to throw a ball to celebrate the Diamond of the Season. The most eligible maiden on the marriage market. Y/n still remembers the first ball she attended — Daphne was the diamond of the season, but Y/n also managed to dance with a few suitors. Of course, in the end, she didn't end up marrying any of them. However, the nerves she felt at that ball were equal to or less than what she felt today: her first ball married to Anthony.

The Viscount and Viscountess had entered together, her hand resting on his arm, followed by Violet and the rest of his siblings. Tonight they would have to be on the lookout for suitors who might want to dance with Francesca, the diamond of the season.

Anthony quietly appreciated his wife. She looked breathtaking in her dress, her hair neatly tied back that showed off her majestic earrings, given by Anthony on their wedding day. He was proud to have a wife like Y/n, and he regreted that he hadn't shown it since day one.

While the Bridgertons started to go their own way, interacting with other people and dancing, Y/n preferred to stay in the corner watching the couples dancing. She longed to experience that with Anthony, but not in a forced way like some were. No, she wanted it to be felt, for them to dance to the music and really appreciate that moment.

But instead of her husband approaching her, it was another man, Earl Cavendish. Y/n remembered some moments when she had already seen him, as he was looking to get married this season. As she approached her, with a confident air, Y/n lowered her head to compliment him, "Good afternoon, Earl Cavendish."

"Lady Bridgerton, a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you look flawless. Would you give me the pleasure of dancing with me?" he extended his hand.

Y/n's eyes widened, not knowing what to do. People had already started looking at them, whispering among themselves. However, she didn't have to respond to the invitation as she felt an arm wrap around her waist and bring her closer to him.

"Excuse me, Earl Cavendish, but I want to have the pleasure of dancing with my beautiful wife first." Anthony said with his jaw clenched, looking him up and down menacingly. "I'm sure you will be able to find other ladies to dance with tonight. Just not my wife."

The two men looked at each other for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to back down. Anthony grew more and more furious, her wrists clenching and bringing Y/n even closer to him, but careful not to hurt her.

"Very well. I shall leave. I hope to see you again someday, Lady Bridgerton."

"I will —" Anthony began by exclaiming in anger as the Earl walked towards another woman, not having liked the way he looked at what was his.

"You will do nothing." the Viscountess snapped coldly. "I can't understand you, you ignore me, you treat me badly, and then you act protective when another man shows interest in me? I never said anything about you having lovers, even though I didn't like that in our marriage."

"What? I've never disrespected our marriage like that, Y/n. In the past I've done a lot of things, but since we got married the only woman I'll look at and touch is you. I don't want anyone else."

"You have a funny way of showing it." she laughed sarcastically, feeling increasingly emotional. "I have to go get some air. You should go check on Francesca again."

Feeling the cold night air, Y/n's heart began to calm down. It was so difficult having to deal with Anthony's changes of attitude, she couldn't understand him. She just wanted to be loved, and since that wasn't possible, she preferred that they stay as far away from each other as possible since being friends didn't seem to be an option either.

"I'm sorry." the voice she had come to know so well whispered behind her. Y/n refused to turn around, leaning against the balcony and taking deep breaths to control her emotions. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I know that marrying me shouldn't have been your choice either, but I was scared. I was scared to have a wife, because that meant I had another person in my life that I could lose ."

She finally had the courage to turn around and look into Anthony's brown eyes. They held back tears and showed the sadness, regret and anger that Anthony felt.

"I'm so angry with myself for the way I treated you. You deserve so much better than this. And I'm sorry I couldn't give you that. The cruel words I said to you but didn't mean. I was scared to let you in. in my heart, so I tried to push you away. Believe that all I want is to have you in my arms. To love you. To start a family with you. Please, I promise I will do better. And every day I will try to reward you for what you do.

"Lord Bridgerton—"

"Please, call me Anthony. It pains me when you call me like that. Reminds me that I was… Am so close to losing the best thing of my life. I will kneel before you and beg for forgiveness if that's what you want." he murmured with a hand over his heart, beginning to kneel on the ground without hesitation.

"There is no need for that… Anthony." she enjoyed seeing the relief and happiness that spread across his face upon hearing his first name. "I just don't understand why you didn't love me? And now you want to try to make our marriage work?"

"That's the thing, I have always loved you. I love you. My whole body, my heart, feels love for you. That has never changed." he revealed desperately. "I was a coward and didn't know how to deal with my feelings. Because they are so strong that my heart feels like it's going to come out of my chest. Please, give me another chance."

"Hmm, I don't now." The look of disappointment was so marked on Anthony's face, almost looking like he was ready to burst into tears, that Y/n stopped his suffering and showed him an amused smile, making him understand that she was joking. "I think I want you to suffer a little more to get my forgiveness."

"I will do anything for you, Y/n. Ask me the world and I will give it to you."

"Such a romantic now, aren't you?" she whispered, admiring his features.

She didn't realize their faces were so close until she felt his nose trace the delicate skin of her cheek. A gasp escaped her mouth, and Anthony took the opportunity to connect their lips in an unforgettable kiss.

Anthony pulled away quicker than he wanted, but he needed to make sure this was really what his wife wanted. "I love you."

"Kiss me again, and maybe I will also tell you that."

And what his wife wanted, he did. The two remained on the balcony, enjoying the comfort the other gave them. They still had a long way to go, but they knew that from that moment on, their lives would change drastically for the better. They had each other.

[sincerelyrki]

forbidden attraction

getting cheated on was never easy, but you wanna know what is? revenge. and as the infamous song says, if he’s cheating i’m doing him worse (aka fucking his four best friends).

pairing : enha!hyungline x fem!reader

warnings + genre : smut. double pen. oral (m+?f?). cum eating/sharing. unsafe sex. spanking. handjob. profanity. name calling. degration. profanity. a bit of begging. fivesome. no cheating bcuz i don’t fw that. jakehoon kissing once. not shipping the members!! it’s just for the plot. 18+.

wc : 3.8

a/n : a birthday gift to myself and everyone else born on september 2🫡 bonnes fêtes pote <3

tl : @vousty @ilololoveyou @moon0fthenight

Jay was appalled.

There were many things in life that confused him, but this? He’s never been as speechless as he was right now.

Whether that stemmed from his confusion on why one of his best friends would cheat on a girl like you or from your warm mouth wrapped oh so fucking deliciously around his cock- he wasn’t too sure.

But as much as he was appalled, he was thankful. so fucking thankful. it wasn’t every day that his best friend's ex-girlfriend came knocking on his door with nothing more than a poor excuse of a t-shirt and her slutty little miniskirts, not that he was complaining, but it was all too conflicting. 

Was he supposed to call Sungchan and tell him that his hot ex was at his door? He couldn’t imagine that going down too well with him, not after the next few words came spilling from your pretty lips- god your lips.

He almost wishes you never came over because he wasn’t sure how he could ever go back to being strangers with you, not after seeing the way you took him so perfectly down your throat. 

But as all good things come, they go. And it went with another knock on his door, one that barely sounded out before it was being swung open. 

Jay might’ve been the most unlucky lucky man to walk this earth. Lucky because he had you on your knees for him- unlucky because of the three other men who seemingly showed up out of nowhere.

“You started without us? I should’ve known a needy fucking slut wouldn’t have waited.” And by the faux pouting voice of Heeseung, Jay would’ve kept that narrative. It seemed that everyone except for himself had come to hear about this… event? Yep, he was definitely confused.

But as said before, he was so fucking thankful. But if he had known that opening the door to an enigmatic person like yourself, would he have left it closed?

No, no he wouldn’t have. Because if he had then 

he’d miss the singular hottest thing he’d ever seen- who knew watching his best friends fuck the girl he’s wanted for what feels like forever, could feel so fucking good? 

That’s definitely the one reason why he’s in this position right now, he’d refuse any other answer anyways. 

Jay’s head fell back with an abrupt moan, his head snapping back way too fast to be classified as safe. His legs shook from beneath you from the immense pleasure shooting across his entire midsection, his noises only grew louder the deeper he reached.

Your nails were scratching red lines across the man beneath you but through the combination of the hands grabbing against you and the cock you were being lowered on, you barely noticed. 

“Almost there, you’re doing so good.” Heeseung’s voice was no louder than a whisper when he breathed heavily in your ear, the actions going on under him getting to his head. His eyes were glued to the way you sucked his friend in perfectly, your walls moulding to the twitching man beneath you.

Heeseung was almost envious of Jay, he’d do anything to feel your tight cunt wrap around him instead. But he knew that his time would come- and that it’d feel almost a hundred times better. And so he continued to shush you from over your shoulder as his lips pressed small pecks against your open neck, his hands wrapped around your waist as he moved you against Jay. 

You fell apart in the two men’s embrace, the world fading into a haze as you fell into the feeling of getting used. It’s barely been a minute since you’ve been completely lowered on Jay yet you already felt completely fucked out.

Your sensitivity came in bursts of loud gaps and quiet moans, your legs unable to clench due to the tight holds of Jake and Sunghoon, one on each side. 

“Please, i-i need more…” Even in your current situation you couldn’t help but beg for more than you could take, the desire to be completely and utterly claimed by the four men surrounding you overtaking any conscious part of your brain. You wouldn’t be satisfied until you’ve had them all, and that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

“You need more or-?” Heeseung paused mid to push his teeth into your neck, his teeth pressing against you for a few seconds before pulling back. He glanced at the red spot once before he began lapping at it, his warm tongue providing comfort to the sore area. 

After soothing the spot he moved more confidently, his tongue pressing flat against your collarbone before licking a stripe up to your jawline. One of his hands left your waist to pull at your hair, the loudest gasp yet leaving your lips, “or do you just want it?” He pressed a final kiss against your ear before letting go of your hair. 

“Need, I need it.” Sunghoon looked up at Heeseung’s expected gaze before moving his eyes toward your face. His cock twitched in its confinements at your expression, his eyes following your tears streaks all the way down until your open mouth. 

He knew what Heeseung was asking of him, but he wanted something else. As much as he’d love to feel your lips wrapped around his dick, he’s been eyeing something much more… tasty. 

It came to a shock to both you and Jay once you felt something warm kitten licking at your entrance- well the spot where the two of you were connected in precisely. 

Both your eyes snapped down at the sudden sensation, it was safe to say that the sight didn’t disappoint. Sunghoon wasn’t shy in the way he was so evidently open to making the both of you feel as much pleasure as possible, his tongue pressing against the two of you as Jay slid out, Sunghoon’s tongue aiding him in pushing further in. 

It was nasty, but it tasted way too good for any of you to give a shit. Neither Sunghoon nor Jay seemed to care about the way Sunghoon’s tongue continuously licked along Jay’s cock. 

“I always knew that fucking bitch was fruity.” Jake tried to tease Sunghoon but not even he could stop his eyes from following the movements of Sunghoon’s ministrations. 

As much as the other two boys enjoyed watching the three of you, they were growing extremely impatient. 

Heeseung, being done with waiting around for his turn decided to force himself into the equation with an offer he knew you wouldn’t be able to refuse, “You wanna know what would feel even better?” 

He got his answer through the barely noticeable stutter of your growing noises. A smirk pushing its way onto his lips on its own accord. “Having both me and Jay inside of you, i’d make you feel so good.” 

He could feel your torso tense under his hold and so continued talking into your ears, his voice as compelling as a story told siren, “You wanted more, didn’t you? You’d feel so full, i’d be giving you everything you’ve ever longed for.” He made his point by pushing his palm against your lower stomach- right against the spot Jay’s cock was hitting inside of you. 

“He’s so big, right?” He cooed at you when you nodded your head, big tears staining your cheeks as his words fell through one ear and down to your needy cunt. “He’d feel so good against me, we’d stretch you out so good, make you feel things you’ve only ever dreamed about.”

Jay, having felt your tortuous clenches, was quick to get drawn to his high, his hips snapping up with a new vigor as he tried to chase his heavy weighted release. 

Heeseung noticed before you did, of course he did. He’d been watching the man since he’d first come through the door, it was only natural for his eyes to be watching his every reaction. 

“Or maybe we can have Jakey with me instead, hm? He’s not as long as Jay but he’s definitely thicker.” Liquid honey was practically pouring from Heeseung’s lips, the gold flowing across your skin until it reached its searing end along Jay’s thighs. 

“M’gonna fill you up, give you everything I have-” Jay was too far gone to realize what he was saying, but he meant every word. His hands replaced Heeseung’s after pushing the older man’s off, his hips pushing off the bed as he snapped into you as hard as possible. 

His head was empty but the thoughts still repeated out through his mouth, your seductive voice was the last thing he needed before completely filling you- “do it, fill me up.” 

Seeing Jay break beneath you was nothing compared to the feeling of him coming undone inside of you, and at this moment you couldn’t help but thank your ex. 

It was like a light switched inside of you, a newfound desire filling your entire body after seeing the way Sunghoon kept licking at the spot connecting you to Jay. His mouth was completely soaked with a combination of everything, the white ring along the bottom of Jays cock disappearing just as fast as it appeared. 

You grabbed Sunghoon’s hair, a shocked whimper leaving his mouth as you pulled him away. He was looking up at you so beautifully, the stars in his eyes and the wetness along his chin… he was irritably irresistible. and by the silence filling the room it seemed that everyone agreed.

“You just can’t get enough can you?” You used your own hand to nod his head at your question, his hair tight in your hold as you forced him to move at your will. You cooed at him before giving a small pout in response, your eyes still staring at his coated face. “You couldn’t help yourself, you just had to taste him didn’t you?”

Sunghoon didn’t answer, his mind too cloudy to comprehend anything being said. His eyes were barely open as he stared at you, his entire weight being pushed against Jay’s abdomen. 

His hands were pressed against the back of your thighs with his chest resting against jay, he was completely powerless. “How did he taste?” You knew he wouldn’t answer but you still asked with a slight hope that he’d give in, but as expected- he stayed silent. 

You repeat yourself louder this time as you tug his hair harsher against his scalp, he still remained silent as he allowed his head to move under your control. 

“He’s so dumb, he can’t even speak for himself.” Heeseung laughed against your neck before pushing his lips against your collarbones, yet his eyes remained on Sunghoon. 

You hummed in agreement before turning to Jake, your heart softening at the neglected boy across from you. “Poor puppy hasn’t gotten any attention yet here you are, a needy baby who can’t do anything but sit there in silence.” 

Jake visablly lightened up at your attention, his teeth slightly poking out from beneath his lips before he pushed closer to you, his head lightly knocking against yours whilst he nuzzled against you. 

You were still sitting on top of Jay’s sensitive cock, his cum still lodged in you. “Bad boy’s don’t deserve what I was going to give you.” Sunghoon finally came to his senses as he looked up at you in confusion, your eyes meeting for the second time tonight. 

“You were the closest to Sungchan, how could you do this to him?” You knew you weren’t the one to be talking, but you had more of a reason to betray him compared to Sunghoon. You got cheated on, but Sunghoon? You couldn’t think of a singular reason why he would turn his back on his childhood best friend just for a singular fuck.

“Why?” Sunghoon shook his head once before trying to respond but no words left his mouth, “what? Is your mouth suddenly dry?” Sunghoon shook his head in denial before snapping his lips closed and looking away once again, a heavy cloud of guilt replacing the dumb look in his eyes. 

“As I said earlier, bad boys don’t deserve it.” No one knew what the “it” that you were referring to was, not until you slowly pulled Jay from out of you, your fingers pushing against yourself as you tried to keep his release in. 

Still staring at Sunghoon’s avoidant figure you grabbed Jake’s wrist, your fingers wrapping around his hand as you pulled it down to replace your own. But before he could put his hand in place of yours, you stuck two fingers inside and scooped out as much of Jay’s cum you could while keeping some in. 

You used your hold on his hair to turn his head towards your hand, his mouth dropping open at the strings of cum connecting your two fingers. You pushed your fingers together before slowly pulling them apart knowing that all the boys were watching. 

“To think that this couldn’t been you…” Knowing that Sunghoon’s gaze was now following your fingers you rose it up to Jake’s mouth, your fingertips rubbing a bit of cum across his bottom lip before you pushed in between them. 

All eyes, including your own, watched as Jake took your fingers the way you’d taken Jay’s dick hours ago. 

Jake’s tongue swirled around your two digits, his eyes closing in focus as he attempted to clean your fingers the best he could. You could feel the vibrations of his mouth against your fingers, the feeling causing your need to grow more intense.

Before anyone could react, Sunghoon pulled your fingers from his mouth and replaced them with his mouth. His lips pushed against Jake’s with an animalistic desire, his tongue pushing between the other boys lips before Jake could even process the sudden kiss. 

Sunghoon ignored the sharp tingles from his scalp as he continued licking into the other boy's mouth, scooping the cum into his own mouth. It was supposed to be his anyways, so there was no reason why he wouldn’t be able to have it. It didn’t matter that he was eating it from another person's lips, maybe it tasted even better that way.

After sharing the cum between themselves Sunghoon pulled back with a devious smile, all guilt erased from his mind. Jake’s mind was still reeling from what had happened, his mind replaying the sight of their shared spit connecting their departing lips. 

“Sungchan would’ve have let you do this.” Sunghoon didn’t waste a second before kissing you, the taste of the other boys heavy on his tongue as it pushed it against yours. The taste was almost indescribable, hints of bitterness with the perfect amount of sweetness from whatever Sunghoon ate before coming to Jay’s. 

Sunghoon pulled off of you for a minute before using his hand to pull yours from his hair, his fingers entwining with yours as he messily stood up. His pants were off within seconds, and his back was against the bed just as fast.

He pulled you down on top of him, his hand letting go of yours to grip as your ass to help you grind down against him. His mouth met yours once again, his nose bumping against yours with each turn of his head, he was all too addicting. 

Heeseung tsked from above you, his disapproving gaze heavy on Sunghoon’s messy side profile. “You heard what she said earlier, you don’t deserve it.” Heeseung pulled you off of Sunghoon and back into his arms, your legs moving down to rest on top of Sunghoon’s flat knees. 

“Move.” Sunghoon’s pleading look barely worked on you, his expression changing into an annoyed one before he shot both boys beside you a glare. He didn’t say anything and just scooched over. 

Jake replaced his spot, but not before shooting Sunghoon a victorious wink. He made a whole show of fluffing his pillow before laying down, his hands moving to pull off his pants with a singular swipe. 

His walls came down the second you took over, your hands grabbing his shoulder as you lowered yourself down onto him. He was already hard from watching you earlier which lowered the prep time. 

Even though Jake was definitely wider than Jay, you still took him with ease. His cock gave you exactly what you needed yet you still wanted more. 

You didn’t have to voice out your desires because Heeseung was already tapping the head of his cock against you, his tip moving around to collect as much of your slick as he could. 

His hand moved from base to tip in a repeated motion, his fingers squeezing him in the manner that he was usually used to- but this time was different. He’d never fucked someone with another cock already pressed it, but that wasn’t to say that he hasn’t given it thought before.

He’s definitely thought about fucking you with one of his friends, way too many times that he’d like to admit. When you first came to him with the idea he would like to say that he was hesitant, but he wasn’t. The day you broke up with Sungchan was probably the best day of his life, well second best to today. 

He wanted to see if the real thing was as good as it was in his dreams. He already knew your pussy would be the best he’s ever felt but he's always known that- it wasn’t anything new. But this? This was all new. 

He knew you were ready after you looked back at him with a nod, your eyes sharing unspoken words before he began to push in. He knew the stretch would be rough and he fully attended to take his time to let you adjust to the new feeling. 

He rubs an encouraging hand along your back, his palm gently pushed you flatter against Jake’s chest as his other hand held his base.

Jake, seeing the way your body was reacting, wrapped both of his arms around your waist. The new addition made it easier for Heeseung to contort your body into the way he wanted, his hand moving from your back and up to your hips to pull you up higher. 

Even with the two boys comforting you, you still remained as tense as before. Heeseung knew it wouldn’t feel as good to you if you remained in that state so he tried his best to help loosen you up, “Relax, i’ve got you.” And it worked.

And after a few minutes of random thrusts both boys managed to find a shared rhythm, their normal stroke pattern differentiating from each other. 

All three of your bodies were shining in sweat, the heat from your bodies rubbing against each other making a force field of humidity- but it didn’t bother any of you too much. At least not enough to stop. 

You could feel the bed from beside you moving, Sunghoon growing angsty with his lack of attention. “As much as I love to watch this- I think I'm going to explode if I don't feel your touch in the next three seconds.”

You rolled your eyes at the dramatic boy beside you with your best attempt at a small smile. It was hard to show any reaction to him at all by the way the two men were pushing into you, your body was on fire and you could feel your pleasure everywhere. 

Jake ignored Sunghoon and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, his tongue alternating between swirling around it and rolling it between his teeth. He didn’t want to share you with Sunghoon, not if it had the chance to cost him your perfect little pussy. 

Your mouth dropped open in pleasure, moans breaking through your no longer closed lips. It was too much at once but yet it somehow managed to be too little as well, you still needed more. You came here to be ruined, to be destroyed beyond fixable. And with your mouth still working- you weren’t getting that. 

“Fuck my mouth.” Sunghoon didn’t waste a second before pushing up beside you, his thigh pressing against your shoulder before he tapped the tip of his cock against your bottom lip.

“Will you be able to take it? I don’t think you’ll be able to focus with the other two taking you like this.” Sunghoon managed to switch the rolls once again, his voice coming out doubtful with an underlying degrading tone. “Maybe we’ll see why Sungchan cheated on you.”

Striker. Sunghoon didn’t wait for your response before he pushed into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat right away. He ignored your gag and held himself there for a few seconds- enjoying the way you gagged and choked around him. “It doesn’t feel good, does it? To have something that was rightfully yours be taken away so easily?”

He didn't care about how you reacted to his words, his need to feel your tongue pressing against him overruling anything. “You can’t even take us all at once, poor Jay sitting back and watching you get dicked down by all his friends.”

Sunghoon pulled one of your hands from its position on Jake’s shoulder before holding your open palm out to Jay, “Make him feel good too.” 

Jay was heavy in your hand when you swirled your finger around his slit, his dick still sticky with his release. He wrapped both hands around your wrist as he fucked himself into your fist, his moans matching Sunghoon’s as they worked with your moving body. 

Sunghoon felt eyes staring at him and when he looked up he saw Heeseung’s heavy lidded eyes staring back at him, his reflection barely noticeable through his pupils. Sunghoon smirked at him once before nodding his head towards you, “better make her cum fast, Jay and I want our turn.”

Heeseung shook his head with a challenging smile, “nah, I think we’re gonna edge her a few times. I’m in no rush, I’ve got all night.”

Jay chucked from the side before chiming in, “Knowing your track record you’re definitely not going to last.” Jay was lying and they all knew it, yet it still struck a chord in Heeseung.

“You sure? Pretty sure our girl didn’t even cum whilst fucking you, did you?” Heeseung stared Jay in the eye whilst baby taking you, his hand rubbing your lower back in a fake comforting way. 

Heeseung’s hand moved lower, his hand now resting against your ass. He watched the way your ass bounced back against him and the way your skin jiggled each time your bodies made contact. He pressed down once more before raising his hand up before smacking it down against you, his eyebrow raising when he felt you clench down around them.

“You liked that?” He did it again just to check and once again, you clenched. “Of course she likes that.” Jake now chimed in from beneath you as soon as his lips left your tits, “she always has.”

All three other boys shared a confused look before asking for Jake to elaborate, “What? You think Sungchan was the first to meet her?”

[rodeorun]

love in the dark.

yandere pretty boyfriend x fem!reader.

cw: drugging, black-mail, non-con blowjob, degradation. Featuring @meo-eiru 's OC, Elias ❤️

MDNI.

“You better work,” Elias threatened the baby pink candle he was holding between pretty, manicured fingers.

One might even compare it to the young man himself. Long and more thin than thick, the pink wax at the tip molded into a heart shape, white wick sticking through the middle. Elias always had love on the brain, at least when it came to you. Pity he didn't have a fine white wick of logic to split his head in two, or rather, his heart. But, when you love the way he did, weren't those two practically the same thing?

He doesn't know how many hours he spent on the dark web to find this, some sort of ‘love candle.’ Whatever that bullshit meant. The description the seller left behind was short and to the point.

‘Ignite this candle in the presence of your desired person and watch them fall in love with you.’

Even Elias in all his lovesickness found it hard to believe, but it was that sickness itself that led him to purchasing the item. He hadn't gotten a gig lately so he prayed for the payment to go through, giving himself a headache for purchasing a mere candle that was six hundred and fifty dollars. God, the things he would do for you (or to you, but that's a completely different matter.)

You, the object of his affections. His sweet, sweet, sweet best friend who has saved him more times than he could count. You were entirely too good for him and he knew it.

A special knock on his door alerted him to your presence, and he knew it was you because you two had created that very knock in sophomore year of university. Long after he changed his name, you still had the heart to played with him like a child. Where others laughed at his girlish tears and overgrown sobs, you healed his inner child with every hug, every whisper, every time you'd look into his eyes and tell him, ‘it's okay, Elias. I'm here for you.’

And you always were.

No matter how bad his tantrums got, you never got sick of him. You were the only one who stayed. You practically conditioned him. How could he ever want anyone else after tasting a drop of your sweetness?

“Hi, darling!” Elias opened the door and pulled you in for a hug, kicking the door shut behind you. “Someone's mighty dressed up for a movie night in, hehe. Oooh, is this wine? Gimme gimmie!”

Taking the bag from your hands, Elias turned to put it on the table, laying a sweaty palm against his flushed cheek. Heaven, he couldn't do this much longer! Just a hug from you and a whiff of that perfume had him hardening in his yoga pants. He stayed faced away from you as he rocked side to side, subtly rubbing himself against the bottle you brought just for him. All for him.

“So, I was thinking we could start with a rom-com and then maybe a western, for variety, and after that there's a three hour long horror movie I found that-”

“Sorry, Elias.”

Glittering eyelids opened themselves.

“See, my boyfriend injured his arm in a game yesterday, so I need to go help cook for him,” you explained. Your sorry eyes seared into his back.

Ah, yes. That boyfriend of yours. Taller than Elias, bigger than Elias, handsome enough to be called a heartthrob and an athlete by profession. A real winner, that boyfriend of yours!

Elias wanted to spit on his corpse.

“Oh, your boyfriend!” He clasped his hands together and turned to face you. “The one who forgot to pick you up at the mall last week because he slept through his alarm, right? I remember him.” Elias fiddled with one of the bottles of wine now, snarling. So much for a ‘gift,’ you were just trying to buy his forgiveness.

“Yes, Eli, that boyfriend,” you chuckled. “But I forgave him for that, you know? Nobody's perfect.”

The illusion of bliss he was swept up in from hearing that sweet nickname quickly shattered.

‘Nobody's perfect.’ Elias knew that better than anyone else. Afterall, he was the last thing but, and yet you still treated him so preciously.

So, why? Why was it the very same thing he fell in love with you for, you were flaunting to just anyone? Don't you know that love isn't free? Especially not yours! How many bottles of hair dye, micro-needling appointments, collagen fillers, and waxing appointments did he go to for your love? By God he knows his deadname didn't deserve you, but didn't Elias at least earn a little bit of your attention?

How dare you, honestly. How dare you show someone else the kindness you won him over with? How dare you waltz in here just to stand him up for another man! How dare you fucking-

“Eli?”

“Yes, my beloved?”

You looked upon him tentatively, a testament to what a ticking time bomb he is. “Oh, alright, I forgive you.” He waved you off playfully and walked over to hold both of your hands in his. “But next time, I'll tie you up and keep you here forever, munchkin~”

Your laugh mingled with his. As if you thought he was joking.

“Ah, but, darling! At least have a drink with me before you go. It would be lonely to pop open a bottle by myself, hm?”

A single drink.

That's what you and Elias agreed on. One glass and you'd be on your way to that wretch. You didn't drive to get here and assured Elias that your boyfriend would drive you back home. As if.

“Oh, before we cheers,” Elias put his glass down and went to rummage for a box of matches, shaking his hips this way and that while humming in his search.

“Someone's in a good mood,” you grinned, watching him groove to imaginary music.

“Yes, with you around I always am,” he teased and returned to the table. He put the candle in the stand and lit it.

It was only a little unsettling that he watched you instead of the matches while he did so.

“That's a really cute candle, Elias. Where'd you get it?” you asked him as he sat down across from you, drink in hand.

“Oh, this old thing? It's just something I had laying around- Oh my god!”

Elias flinched as the candle suddenly exploded, letting out a small puff of wind that blew his hair back and left behind a plume of pink smog.

“Darling?! Are you- ack! You okay?” Elias wafted the air between hacking coughs until he could see your face again.

You looked shocked, as one would when a candle explodes in their face, but then you started laughing. Small titters that rang like a bell until it turned into gasps that made you grab your stomach.

“You're, hahahaha, so, so silly, Eli! Haha, where do you get these things?!”

Oh, honey. He couldn't stop loving you even if he tried.

“Oh, stop that, you! How was I supposed to know it would do that,” Elias played along, ears still tinged pink at his little blunder. You two looked at each other and then fell into joined laughter.

This light, airy feeling was a drug to him. No matter how boring he was, how flat his personality, you could always find something more in him. Something to talk about, to laugh about, to entertain him with. Something he couldn't find by himself.

It's like the universe sent you to him as if to say, ‘hey! This is the person who will make life worth living! The one who will take that mind numbing emptiness away!’

And who was he to deny the wishes of the universe?

“Worthless piece of junk,” Elias muttered when things settled down. The candle really was a sham then. “At least it smells nice,” he lit the candle again and waved the match to out it. “Anyways, I got a manicure today and the lady was way too rough with my cuticles. She should quit if that's the service she's going to give.”

He brought his nails up, inspecting the blood red polish.

He was met with silence.

“Darling?”

Your head was down, lip trapped between your teeth.

“R-Right. Well, it's pretty,” you shot him a sad kind of smile. “It's just, well, no. Hm, uh, no…I forgot, I guess?” Elias watched you scramble around until small tears dripped from your eyes. “I guess I just forgot that you see other women every day.”

His heart froze in his chest.

“And, I, I know she was just doing her job, but holding your hand while she did your nails- she did hold your hand, right? That's a little…”

You trailed off and wiped your tears, willing yourself to gather such thoughts while Elias looked on in shock.

His eyes flicked to the candle, to you, the candle, you. Always you.

“She did,” he said simply, cautiously, “hold my hand. Yes, she did.” Your face cumbled, making Elias shoot up. “But I hated it! I wished it was you! I want you to be the one holding my hand!”

“Really?” Those big, wet eyes pleaded with him. “Because, I get jealous, you know.”

Something below his belt started stirring.

“Is that so?” He hummed and pulled his chair over next to you, thumbing the tears under your eyes like you had done for him so many times before.

The light of the candle reflected in your eyes and when Elias glanced over, it had melted remarkably quickly. The leftover wax dripped onto the table but he couldn't care less.

First things first, he needed to make sure what he hypothesized was real. That this wasn't a ploy.

“You know, dear, I was very hurt when you started going out with that bastard. You hurt me, a lot. How do you think I felt?” He cooed like you were a child, soft and gentle in his palm.

“I'm so sorry, Eli. I'll break up with him, okay? I only want you! I'm really- mmph!”

Not the romantic first kiss he was dreaming of, but perfect nonetheless.

All this groveling and begging, over little ol’ him? It was too cute. He could just eat you up! But before that, it seems Elias was going to be devoured first.

“Darling? Ngh!” You were tangling your tongue with his, sucking his lips, his cheeks, his tongue, leaving little nibbles on his blushing skin. “Hold on, I need to-”

“Need to what, Eli? I need you right now,” you swallowed, “I feel like my body is on fire.”

Oh, god, the candle really did work. You were squirming on your chair, rubbing your legs together and giving him the absolute cutest puppy eyed stare. You wanted him. You wanted him.

“Yeah?” Elias said breathlessly, trying to keep pace with you, “well I think I need an apology for you cheating on me first.”

He stood up and pulled his oversized sweater up, letting you peek at the bulge growing underneath tight grey cotton.

“Oh, Eli! It's so pretty!” You weren't shy about rubbing him over his pants. “All of you is so, so pretty, baby. Can I…suck you?”

“Darling, I'm yours!” He said eagerly, the sudden onslaught of praise leaving him dizzy. “Anything you want to do, I'm yours!”

By the time you peeled down his pants and had his leaking dick positioned at your mouth, he was ready to burst. He was entirely ready to finally get his reward, but you hesitated.

“Wait, Eli. I think we should wait, um…my boyfriend. I should break up with him first.”

That goddamn candle should have come with a special feature to make you forget anyone but him all together.

Elias probably looked terrifying right now, fine features underlit by the glow of the candle, staring down at you harshly. For once, he didn't find your babbling cute. Not when every other word was your boyfriend's name. So, Elias kindly shut you up.

“There we go~” Elias cooed, thrusting his hips a little. “Ah, ah, darling. Don't run from it,” he giggled, “or I'll shove it down your fucking throat~”

You were choking on his cock, unable to pull away with how he had his fingers locked behind your head. More than you moving, it was Elias who was pumping himself in and out of your mouth, not stopping until his balls slapped against your chin every time.

“What a good little thing you are, angel. I love you so much! Hey, do you love me too? I asked if you loved me too!”

Even under the effects of the candle, you looked scared. Elias was frantic now, not only his balls hitting your chin, but his toned abdomen smashing into your face as he fucked your entire head roughly. “Dirty fucking bitch! I trusted you! I love you and you left me for dead to go date that idiot! Do you know how much that hurt me?! How much I need you?! You were supposed to me mine, all mine, just like I'm yours! You dirty, dirty f-fucking whore!” Elias let out a wet sob, spilling down your throat with his eyes screwed shut.

Heavy pants left his mouth as he stumbled back to sit on his chair, chest heaving up and down. Even through your coughing, you couldn't help but worry about him.

“Eli? A-Are you okay?”

What a wreck your voice was, no doubt you'd be feeling him in your throat for days.

“It's not all out.”

“Huh? I don't understand-”

“Lift your shirt up.” He wasn't asking.

The smooth expanse of your chest was revealed and Elias used it as extra motivation to get the last few drops of cum out, fisting his tip roughly to pull out those last thick strings. It pearled on your skin beautifully and you didn't hesitate to stick your tongue out, cleaning him off properly with soft sucks that made him tremble.

“Good girl,” he sighed and eventually sat. It was like the devil was released from him. He was just Elias again, your Eli. “That was my first blowjob, you know,” he giggled cutely, like you two were mischievous kids sharing secrets in a treehouse.

Elias sighed and leaned in to hug you after lifting his pants back over his soft length. “Oh, my baby. I can't believe this worked. Had I known, I wouldn't have done this sooner. I can't believe you're finally mine,” he mumbled into your hair. “I love you, darling. And you love me too, right?”

Silence.

“Darling?”

Elias held you at shoulder length away, not wanting to let go of you completely yet. “Hey, why the tears, darling? Hehe, do you love me that much? Aw, well-”

“I'm sorry, Elias.” Your dark pupils met his.

There was no reflection from the candlelight anymore. In fact, the flame had blown out completely by now, leaving behind a sad little puddle of wax.

Your arms pushed his off as you stood up. “Shit…I- oh god, my boyfriend. What's wrong with me?! I'm sorry, Eli- I mean, Elias, um, I think the wine was a bit too strong for me. I really didn't mean to…”

What the hell was this?! Was this- did your love only last while the candle was lit?!

“What the fuck!” Elias cursed loudly, fingers gripping his silky tresses. The situation was beckoning a meltdown.

“I know, Elias, I'm so sorry, but I don't know what came over me!”

You were scared, he could see it. And he's sure part of that fear was from the ache in your throat, the names he had called you when he was at the peak of bliss. How he carried on when he was so sure you were his completely. Over what, a stupid candle? He was an idiot! He had to do damage control.

“It's…alright, darling. It's okay. Hm,” Elias hummed as he thought, standing up to pace. “It's okay. Your boyfriend is waiting for you after all, run along now. It's getting late.”

“Elias?” You weren't sure what was going on.

“Don't worry, dear,” Elias looked at you with warm eyes. “I can keep a secret. We just got a little overwhelmed, didn't we?”

He was giving you a way out, obviously. But why?

“Right,” you said, unsure.

“That's okay, we all have our moments,” Elias giggled and walked over, wrapping his arms around you, letting one sneak down to cup your ass. “Some more than others.”

“I don't think we should be-”

“Be what? You already swallowed my load, pumpkin. Let it dribble all down your chin and everything,” he mused, rubbing a finger against your lower lip. “Or did you want to come clean to your boyfriend?”

“No! I really don't know what happened!”

“Then it's a secret,” Elias whispered, pulling you in for a kiss. You were helpless to him, unable to pull away under the looming threat of him snitching on you. His tongue traced your lips before he pulled away.

“I won't tell if you won't, darling.”

Elias sent you off with a few more kisses and a slap on your ass, already hard again and humping you like a dog all the way to the door where you left with tears in your eyes. You were just too cute!

It wasn't much, but it was something. The only excitement Elias could offer you. Now, he had a personality.

He was your secret lover.

“Aha! How wonderful!” Elias twirled around in excitement. What an adventure!

Soon, he'd guilt your sweet soul into breaking up with that idiot and you'd be all his. He already had a foot in the door after all.

Bringing a hand to his lips, he recalled the way yours felt against his. Marvelous, absolutely marvelous!

Hmm..

Elias took his phone out and sent you a quick text.

‘I think I left some lipstick on you, darling. Clean that up before you see you know who ;)’

Not even moment later, his phone rang.

“Hey, Elias?”

“Eli,” he corrected.

“Yeah, can you not-”

“Eli.”

“…Eli. Uh, can you not send texts like that, please? Just in case he sees.”

A shiver ran up Elias’ spine at the secrecy of it all. You two were bound by sin.

“Of course, darling. I'll call you tonight then.”

“I'm spending the night with him,” you said nervously. “I can't.”

“Alright then, I'll just text you,” Elias inspected his nails casually.

“But-! Ugh, fine. I'll call you later.”

“Perfect. We'll talk soon then. Make sure your camera is on, I'm still throbbing over here,” he giggled.

“I have to go now,” you whispered.

“I love you, darling.”

“Yes, he's coming so-”

“I said I love you!”

“…I love you too, Eli. Bye.”

Elias waited for you to hang up with a smile. You were already cracking under the pressure of your unwanted affair. Sure it would hurt you now, but if this didn't last long then it would be him hurting later. Surely, you wouldn't be able to deal with that, not your kind heart. After all, his beauty is something that shouldn't be marred, you said so yourself.

It was only a matter of time now.

a/n: I actually finished this over a week ago but the Elias lore kept pouring in and I was scrambling to edit to make this as canon as possible but I gave up sooooo, yeah 😃 just imagine this as eli if he actually acted on half the shit he wants to do ig lmfaooo

Also can't believe I wrote unwilling reader because Elias is literally my baby muffin snuggly pie googlie bear and i love him, but i love men suffering more ig 💗

Divider: /animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Please do not ask for part 2. Thank you!

[sweetrainbowcandy]

A Logan x chubby!reader blurb <3 let me know if you guys want a part two <3

TW: Suggestive

Edit: part two here

Logan never thought he’d get caught up with a pretty little thing like you.

You’re absolutely precious. Wade’s neighbor directly across from their now shared apartment. You’re shorter than him with the cutest chubby body, your legs and tummy jiggling subtly when you walk. It was enough to kill him, and that’s saying a lot for a man who can’t die.

You’d shared a couple brief greetings in the hallway, a polite smile from you and a nod from him. There was an afternoon him and Wade were walking back from helping the X-men on a mission where the two of them caught you struggling to pad down the stairs, looking nervously around your over-stuffed laundry basket with a focused, worried expression.

Logan didn’t know what came over him— sure, he was told beneath his spiky exterior he had a soft core, but he usually brushed off that comment as nothing more than people trying to make him feel better. Wade was halfway through throwing a teasing comment at you before Logan was already there, gently taking the laundry basket from your grasp and tucking it under his big arm.

Wade let out an over exaggerated gasp, and you immediately tried to reassure Logan you could do it yourself, but he was already headed down the stairs to the laundry room. Thats where you two formally introduced yourself to each other— and also Wade, who had followed the both of you downstairs since his FOMO was chronic.

You were precious, so fucking sweet and kind.

It was driving Logan crazy.

That’s why when Wade approached him asking if he could go over and fix your sink for you— you had asked Wade initially since you knew him better, but Wade told you to wait a moment while he talked to ‘the old ball and chain’— Logan knew that it was going to be a challenge.

Now, Logan wasn’t a plumber or anything, but in the two-hundred something years he’s been alive, you get around when you have to learn to provide for yourself. He took his toolbox he bought a couple weeks ago after Wade lost to the computers in Mario kart and got so pissed he broke the coffee table in the living room, so Logan bought and assembled a new one.

Knocking on your door, Logan found himself actually wondering if he looked okay, if his hair was too much of a mess and if his cowlicks made him look stupid. Little did he know you thought they were absolutely adorable.

You opened the door, blinking before smiling, opening it further and gesturing for him to come in, “Logan, hey!” You greeted softly, and he felt his heart rate speed up at the sight of the slight blush on your chubby cheeks, nodding as he stepped inside, “Sorry, I was expecting Wade,” you said with a small giggle.

Logan shook his head with a grunt, “Fucker can’t fix anything to save his life. Better at breaking shit,” he says, walking over into your sink and setting down the toolbox on the counter. He crouches to open up the cupboards beneath it, and he hears the subtle gulp from you behind him as you observed the muscles of his back flexing under his tight white tank.

“Well, I seriously can’t thank you enough,” you say softly, stammering a bit as you fidgeted with your slightly pudgy hands in front of you. Logan just nods, pushing down the voices in his head that screamed about how fucking cute you were, how he just wanted to grab you by your adorable chubby stomach and pound—

He blinked, grunting before turning back to the pipes, “‘S not a problem,” he says, his voice a deep rumble in his chest. He locates the problem, grabbing the desired tool and twisting a couple parts back into place.

You stood awkwardly behind him, your sweet scent enveloping him, and it was making it hard to focus. You smelt like vanilla, probably some sort of body butter or lotion based on how your skin glistened in the dim light of your apartment.

Focus, dammit.

“…Are you thirsty at all?” Your soft voice asks, and Logan pauses, pulling back out from under the sink to look up at you.

“Water’d be nice,” he nods, watching with a clenched jaw as you smile and pad over to your fridge, cursing softly under his breath at the sight of how your fat, jiggly ass bounced beneath the skirt of your sundress. You walk back over and hand it to him, and he quietly thanks you.

It’s a few more minutes of you standing there and watching him work before he pulls back, putting his tools away and checking the sink, watching as the water flowed out smoothly and patting the edge, “Should be good,” he says, and you grin ear to ear.

“Oh, Logan, thank you!” You say, walking over to where your purse sat on the counter and rifling through it before pulling out your pocketbook, “Let me at least pay you,”

Logan’s eyes briefly widen before he shakes his head, “No, no, you don’t gotta do that, bub,” he reassures, “I don’t do this lookin’ for payment.”

You stop pulling the bills out, “Are you sure?” You ask softly, and he nods. You felt bad not doing anything for him, “Are you sure there’s no way I can pay you back?” You ask, and Logan pauses, visibly tensing up. You tilt your head, unaware of the suggestive undertone of your words.

Yes, Logan thought, you can help me out by wrapping those soft lips around my cock. Logan prayed you couldn’t see the hunger that flashed behind his eyes. He just cleared his throat and shook his head, exchanging a couple more words with you before you thanked him and he went back to his apartment across from yours.

You shut the door and smiled, biting your bottom lip and holding back a giggle.

Maybe you’d mess with your sink on purpose again.

[lightwing-s]

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x reader

It must’ve been early when the knocking woke you up. Rolling in the warmth of the bed, you struggled to get up and once you did, you walked towards the door on pure muscle memory, still too tired to proceed with any coherent thoughts.

You opened it automatically, rubbing your heavy eyes and letting out a yawn.

“Ghost, Price and I were thinking that maybe…” you heard a voice you faintly remembered blurt out words you vaguely put together. “Yn? What are you doing in Simon's room?”

Freezing at the spot, your eyes dart open, as wide as they could possibly be, and a burst of energy runs through your body, making your mind jolt alight, finally deciding to work.

“Fuck.” you whisper, as you could hear the sound of objects falling and stumbling steps rushing to your side. Simon, still shirtless, holding up his loose sweatpants and whose mask had been clumsy put on, only one of his eyes properly fitting through it’s proper hole, arrived beside you breathlessly, pulling Gaz into the room and closing the door immediately thereafter.

Pushing the Sergeant onto the unmade bed, it took him a moment to catch his breath, spinning around on the same spot on the floor. He had fixed his mask, and the moment his eyes caught yours you could clearly understand his message.

We’re fucked.

Your eyes were restless, moving from Simon and Gaz so quickly it was making you dizzy. Your hands tugged at Simon’s shirt, dressing you like a dress, but barely covering your legs, ones you were not used to exposing in front of your comrades.

It was awkward, this whole situation an awkward mess you had put you all in.

I’m sorry, you mouthed and pleaded with your eyes as Simon stopped in front of you, his hands reaching for your arm, rubbing it warm, consoling you as much as he could as you two sulked in unwanted company.

“Can you two explain what’s going on?” asked your “guest”. Exchanging glances once more, you two fought over who would break him the news. “Or am I supposed to make my own conclusions?”

“‘S pretty obvious, innit?” Simon replied, dryly.

“I wanted to hear it from you, it looks too surreal.” he said, leaning back and straightening his position, a smirk spreading on his face, amusement evident in his eyes. “The Lt and Yn shagging.”

You looked back at Simon once more, his arms crossed on his chest making his biceps look twice their size, and his clear crunched jawline, probably planning three hundred different ways to murder his teammate. Touching his shoulder, you asked for allowance, watching as he considered the options before nodding in return.

“Gaz.” you called, catching his attention. “We’re married.”

Gaz’s head bobbed forward as his eyes almost jumped out of its socket, questioning the shocking news and his own reality. To confirm your words, showed him your hands, more specifically your ring finger, where a pair of letters, ‘SR’, were tattooed secretly on its side. The Lieutenant followed suit, uncrossing his arms to expose your initials drawn on the same spot in his ring finger. 

You two were married. Married, and no one in the base knew it. Hell, they didn’t even know you two had a thing for each other, was going through Gaz’s mind.

“Married?” he repeated, more an affirmation than a question, trying to process it in his head. “I can’t wait till Johnny knows it.”

“Johnny can’t know it.” you immediately cut him. “Please, Gaz. I-it’s…” private, you wanted to add, our lives. But a lump in your throat caught you, feeling everything you’d build crumbling down. 

You’d been so careful. You and Simon had taken every possible precaution since the first night you hooked up, not wanting anyone to find out your silly “mistake”, to the day of your wedding two years ago, the most important day in your entire life. And now the secret was done for, days counted even if Gaz were kind enough to keep it to himself.

“Private.” Gaz completed your words after a brief minute of silence, and the hope in your chest grew. “I get it. You know I’m not a snitch.” Standing up, he continued. “Your secret is safe with me.” and extending his hand towards your husband he wished. “Congratulations, Simon.”

Your husband, after second thoughts, shook Gaz’s hand in his, evident force used to make sure a warning was heard: you say anything, you’re dead. However, knowing him like no one else, you notice signs no one would, and the slight drop in his shoulder lets you know he trusted his Sergeant.

“Congratulations you too, Yn.” he turned to you, giving you a tight hug instead, lifting you off your feet for a brief moment before returning you to the floor. “Does this make me the best man over Johnny?”

Fishing for a pillow, Simon threw it straight into Gaz’s head as he rushed out of your room, giggles heading out with him. You too stood laughing, enjoying knowing your secret paradise wasn’t done for yet, and trying to calm down your sulking and annoyed husband.

.

a/n: short drabble to announce i'm now taking simon and other cod men requests ♡

[avocado-writing]

Hi Avo! Could you please consider writing a protective poly logan and wade x reader? Maybe something happens they weren’t there but when they show up deadpool is distracting/comforting the reader and logan is going ham on the enemy. ploy or separate is up to you!

Just a thought! Enjoying your work as always! ✨anon

deadpool: look how I spell it “grey” because the writer is english! Crazy logan: what?

It’s Logan who sweeps you up. You know it is, because he’s a solid wall of a man under your hands where you’ve buried into him. His chest is warm and reassuring; you focus on it, trying to ground yourself even though you can taste your pulse thrumming in terror.

“It’s okay, baby. We’ve got you,” he mutters under his breath, a growl in your ear, a tender little secret of his softness shared between the two of you. 

It had all been so sudden. You’d been taking the shortcut home after going shopping for tonight’s dinner when you’d felt someone grab you. Tomatoes had rolled across the ground, cans denting loudly as they fell, and you’d been dragged towards the back of the van as your captors loudly discussed if they had the right person. They said something about you fucking two mutants, and the bile with which they had spat it chilled you. 

You’d been certain you were going to die. Cold fear flooded you, your eyes squeezed closed tight. Please, don’t let Logan and Wade find my body. They won’t be able to take it. If these guys are gonna kill me, let me just disappear. 

Then again, that was before the claws came through the metal of the roof and all hell had broken loose. Guns went off and you screamed, unsure if they were Wade’s or not - but strong arms had picked you up and hauled you to safety. 

You feel yourself being passed to someone else, Logan pushing you into Wade’s grip and giving him strict instructions to look after you, then he’s gone. The sounds of violence continue and, without thinking, you turn to look. 

“Oh, no, honey, you don't need to see that. That’s just… plain disgusting,” says Wade, grimacing, “even looking at this mess is better than seeing what Peanut’s doing to those guys.”

Upon the word ‘mess’, he gestures to himself. Despite your heart hammering against your ribs, you reach up to press your hand against his cheek. 

“Don’t talk about yourself like that, Wade. You came to save me.”

A flit of confusion crosses his face, knocking his usual bravado. 

“You thought we’d just let them bundle you into their ‘not allowed within five hundred feet of schools’ van and disappear? Give us some credit. We’re not white knights, but we’re at least, y’know, morally grey knights.”

He says this to make you laugh, and it works. You’re distracted as the sounds of screams literally die out and Logan stalks back over. You see him removing his jacket to hide the blood on it from you. It’s still spread across his knuckles, though, a masterpiece of the revenge he just enacted. 

“Don’t worry about them. They won’t be bothering you again,” he says with an air of finality. His hand raises to cup your face, so gentle with you, such a contrast to moments before. His voice is laced with a tenderness when he asks, “you doing okay?”

You nod. Yeah. With them here, you are doing okay. 

“Thanks,” you manage, shakily, adrenaline leaving your body to give way to fat, rolling tears of relief. Not missing a beat, Wade looks Logan up and down. 

“Hey, there’s still some viscera on your shirt, Peanut. Maybe you should take that off, too?”

“Watch it, bub,” he growls, but you can tell his heart isn’t really in it. They’re both just thankful that you’re safe. 

Your heroes, both of them. Morally grey or otherwise.

[logansdoll]

heat

part two of "cottontail"

CW: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, heavily suggestive, profanity, bunny mutation + spring = fun times, girl imma do my best, this took forever, might be a little long, etc.

As much as he hated to admit it, Logan was worried about you.

In his two-hundred years of living, he had never met someone as hot-headed and brash as you—and that was saying something. But as your you-appointed new best pal, he resigned himself to making sure you didn't piss off the wrong people.

Though it was a nice change of role, seeing as he wasn't the loose canon for once, he couldn't help but begin to grow significantly concerned for your safety.

It wasn't that you were a bad person, far from it, in fact.

Always greeting him with a sweet mornin', Logan!

Always checking up on him after missions.

Always inviting him to "sparring sessions", which would inevitably turn into you two striking up conversation about anything and everything under the sun.

Not to mention you were a humongous flirt—Jean called it being "overly friendly".

She noted that you didn't flirt with any other guys like you did him.

You always gave him those cheeky smiles that seemed to irk him to no end, and put that flirty lilt in your voice when you spoke. Not to mention the constant compliments, which would stick with him for days, sometimes weeks.

But that all stopped about a week ago.

After a day of you acting incredibly off—no jokes, no laughter, little talking—Ororo said you suddenly came down with a "spring cold", but that you'd be up and at 'em soon.

Well, soon hadn't come yet, and Logan hadn't heard anything from you in days.

A spring cold couldn't last this long...

Was it the flu? Was it something else?

And why did everyone else seem so unbothered by it?

These thoughts swam in his head every time he passed your locked door.

Until he finally had enough.

The night everyone went out for a field trip to the county fair, Logan stayed back, opting to visit your quarters with a few choice words, and a container of chicken noodle soup.

When he reached your door, he gave it a soft rap.

Nothing happened.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

Only after a third—more aggressive—knock, did you finally answer.

"Yeah?" you called, your voice low and croaky.

He'd never heard you sound so defeated, and almost... pained.

It made something pang in his chest.

"That must be some cold," he quipped, attempting to play off the feeling with humor.

"Logan?" you asked, sounding shocked. "What are you... What do you want?"

"I just came to give you some soup. Jean told me it's good," he answered, glancing down at the bag in his hand. "S'been a while since I've heard from you."

He waited for a response, but when you never gave one, he began to feel stupid.

This was a mistake.

"Look, I can just leave it outside the door if you don't wanna—"

"No," you interrupted, still sounding strained. "You can come in. Just leave it on my dresser."

A little confused by your tone, he entered nonetheless, boots clicking against the hardwood.

And what he found was concerning.

Your room was a mess—furniture askew, clothes and empty water bottles discarded on the floor, a rumpled mess of sheets on the bed.

The smell in the air was thick with sweat and something else. He looked toward the king-sized bed where a heap sat hunched underneath the sheets

"(y/n)?" Logan called, brows furrowed with confusion and worry as he placed the bag on the dresser.

"Don't come over here!"

You sounded so distressed, in such discomfort.

What's going on?

Why did you sound like you were in trouble?

Ignoring your warning, he slowly stalked closer to the bed, taking slow, tentative steps—now able to hear your soft whimpers and grunts of pain.

"(y/n)?" he questioned, firmly.

You stirred, reacting to his voice, breathing raggedly as if you couldn't get any air in your lungs.

"(y/n), what the hell is going on?" he demanded. "Whatever it is, I can help."

But you turned away, the sheets shifting with you.

"You can't," you whined, "You can't."

Patience running thin, Logan stormed over and snatched the sheets off of you. And there, under the covers, he saw you with his own two eyes.

You were curled into yourself, tail significantly fluffier than he remembered, and ears droopier than he'd ever seen.

Through your thin tank top, he could see your nipples were hard and perky, the shorts you were wearing barely covering your ass cheeks.

'Goddamn...'

When you looked at him, your face flushed red, pupils dilated beyond belief as you covered your face with embarrassment.

You trembled in your skin, tail twitching with discomfort and unease.

"I told you not to come over here," you panted, curling further into yourself. "Didn't want you to see me like this..."

You winced, squeezing your thighs together tight, looking to be in complete agony.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm in heat," you sighed, the cat pretty much out of the bag. "S'cause of my mutation. I can do everything a rabbit can, and go through everything a rabbit goes through. No matter how fucking stupid."

You wiped the sweat off your forehead, your curly hair soaked in it.

"S'why I've been hiding," you explained. "I've been tryna get through this, but I just... can't!"

Now he understood.

Your absence, your uneasiness, the smell of something in the air.

You were horny.

"How long's it last?" Logan curiously asked.

"Depends. Could be a week, could be a month..."

"A month?" he stated, surprised. "Are you in pain?"

Your face screwed tight, triggering something in his core.

"Yes," you groaned, hugging yourself closer.

You looked away from him, appearing so utterly humiliated and ashamed that it pained him.

He had to help.

"What can I do?" he suggested.

You turned to him, eyes widening. "What?" you asked. "What do you—"

"I wanna help you, cottontail," he cut in, already kicking off his boots and taking off his leather jacket to reveal his sexy, white wife-beater. "So tell me what I gotta do."

You watched him, looking completely stunned and mortified, but your pussy throbbed at the sight of his outfit.

"No, no, Logan," you protested. "Y-You can't... you don't need to do this."

But he stood firm in his decision, refusing to leave you.

"I know I don't need to," he firmly responded. "I can't let you go on like this."

"It's okay..." you assured. "It'll probably be done by the end of the week. You don't—"

Before you could even finish, his hand grabbed your face, pulling you close and squeezing your cheeks, his tone demanding.

"Don't protest. Don't argue. Don't push me away... Just let me take care of you, alright?"

His gorgeous brown eyes, filled with the promises of safety and acceptance, bore into yours.

How could you deny him?

"Okay," you caved, leaning into his touch.

"Good girl," he cracked a smile, lips suddenly swooping yours up in a firm kiss.

You let out a soft, eager moan as he scooped you up in his arms, the man letting out a quiet chuckle when you squeaked, your feet dangling off the ground.

While still kissing you, he sat himself down on the bed and plopped you in his lap. His soft lips and tongue made you squirm in his lap, brushing yourself against his quickly hardening cock in his jeans.

"Can I touch your ears?" he whispered, breathless. "'N' your tail?"

Gently, his hand moved down to your ass, caressing your cotton tail. Your toes curled, your body tingling from the sensation.

"Y-Yes," you shakily replied. "Go ahead."

And when his fingers began to lightly brush and stroke your bunny ear from base to tip, you nearly had a full body orgasm, your pussy growing wetter with each pass.

"Fuck..." you gasped. "Yes, just like that..."

Logan smirked as he watched your face contort in pleasure, his ego growing with each whimper.

"Like that?" he asked, teasingly, his cock throbbing at the sound of your pitiful whine in response.

Over these past few months, he'd had countless dreams about having you just like this. And now that he was, he could say with certainty that it was far better than any fantasy.

Gently, one of his big hands slid down between your thighs to pet your pussy through your panties, while the other continued to stroke your ears.

Your mouth fell agape, pleasure coursing through you.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned, tilting your head back as his fingers ghosted over your clit.

You began to shamelessly grind your pussy into his fingers, turning Logan on even more.

"Needy little thing..." he chuckled, amused. "Adorable."

Under his firm gaze and insistent fingers, you nearly came apart at the seams. But before you could, he pulled away, scooping you up with one arm, much to your surprise and arousal, and sliding himself further down the bed.

With a grin, he dropped his head into the pillows, shifting and forcing you to hover over his face.

"M'gonna taste you, now," he stated, as if it was a fact.

You whined in response, moving to grab the headboard as he pulled your panties to the side, giving your pussy a quick peck before completely dropping you on top of him.

"Logan!" you half-moaned, half-screamed, eyes blown wide with pleasure.

You tried to brace yourself, but it wasn't long before he made you a writhing, whimpering, whining mess.

"Ah, Lo, yes!" you cried. "Oh, fuck! Right fuckin' there! Right fuckin' there!"

You were loud and vocal, much to his enjoyment.

He was having the time of his life, massaging your ass and sucking your wet pussy, your juices dripping down his chin.

He even groaned and grunted into your pussy about how good you tasted, only making you wetter at seeing such a stoic man lose his shit over you.

"You want a finger, baby?" he growled, voice slightly muffled. "Talk to me. Tell me what chu want."

"Please," you whimpered. "Fuck me, Logan! Make me come!"

Logan smiled, slowly inserting one of his thick fingers into your hole while his lips gently sucked on your clit.

You nearly screamed, bawling at the pleasure.

"Oh, my God!" you sobbed. "Shit, Logan, I'm gonna... I'm gonna.."

Your orgasm slammed into you without a second thought, drawing a string of slutty moans out as you came all over Logan's tongue.

"That's my good girl," he smirked into your pussy. "So fuckin' good f'me."

Your orgasm was so strong that you began to tremble, the aftershocks taking over your body.

The release helped with the pain... but it still wasn't enough.

You needed more.

Suddenly, he took hold of your chin, staring into your eyes as if he could peer right into your head.

"Do you want more?" he asked, cockily.

Slowly, you nodded, tears pricking your eyes at how much to needed this.

"Yes, Logan," you pleaded, your arousal making you bold and unashamed in your need to be fucked. "Please give it to me. I don't care how you take me. Just please..."

That was all he needed to hear.

He gave you exactly what you wanted and more. The man fucked you, and he fucked you good. He gave your little body everything it needed to knock out those horny thoughts and relieve you of your heat.

In almost every position, too.

He fucked you in missionary while standing up, his hips pistoning into yours while your feet dangled in the air, his hands pinning your thighs apart and making you take each deep, long, slow stroke that had you seeing stars and frantically rubbing your clit watching his handsome face contort in pleasure. 

He fucked you while standing up, your little body bouncing in his arms as you fucked you up and down on his cock, your arms wrapped tight around his neck, your tits pressed flush against his pecs, and your lips locked with his in a passionate, sloppy, wet kiss. 

He fucked you on your side, his big body curled around yours and his cock nestled between your ass cheeks before sliding inside you again, your leg hiked up to get deeper. 

He fucked you on all fours, using your ears to pull you back on his cock, your back arched and ass stinging from random spanks while he pounded into the deep, wet heat of your pussy that squeezed and griped him for dear life. When you tried to rub your clit, he smacked it away and rubbed your pussy for you.

“Uh-uh,” he growled. “No touching what’s mine. All you need to do is cum. Can my little bunny do that?” 

You didn't even answer—you couldn't. But your loud moans and sobs bouncing off of your walls are all the answers Logan needs as he fucked you faster, harder, making your clit sing and pleasure zip through you.

When you felt your last orgasm of the night zip through you, you let out a broken whimper and came all over Logan's cock. 

Triggered by your orgasm and sweet little sounds, Logan gripped you tighter and pounded into you without mercy, until he finally released, too.

“Oh, fuck!” he gasped, his loud groans and grunts echoing throughout the room, triggering another mini-orgasm that made your pussy quiver and drip down your thighs. 

Logan came deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. He even had enough to give you on your ass, pulling out to spray your perfect cheeks with more of his seed, pumping his cock furiously behind you.

A smile stretched across your face as the aftershocks began, practically melting into the sheets. 

You were sweaty, winded, soaked, tired, and covered in cum...but you’d never been more satisfied or happier in your life.

Logan finally settled down beside you, turning you over to face him. He gave you a small smile, his face hot with stray hairs sticking to his forehead. 

“Better now?” he murmured, gently stroking down your back.

You wordlessly nodded, a small, tired hum leaving your lips. 

“Good,” he nodded, pressing a kiss into your hair. “Get some rest.”

And just like that, you were out like a light, softly snoring into his chest, your body curled into his side.

You couldn't wait for next spring...

[abiiors]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚘 — 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚟

✧ — 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

✮ a/n: i get to finally, finally write a crumb of domestic fluff in this but then the whore jumped out

✮ cw: wet dreams, public sex, fingering, dirty talk, smoking

✮ wc: 3k

“matty, matty, matty,” jules chants, moving her hips and squeezing around his fingers. his tongue flicks against her collarbone, stubble stinging deliciously against the skin of her neck. 

it’s gonna chafe. it’s gonna leave red marks behind… marks she will later trace and obsess over and cherish. but right now jules throws caution to the wind and focuses on the feel of his fingers inside her, hitting that sweet spot over and over again. 

he thumb presses against her clit, eliciting sounds and moans from her like never before, like no one ever has. jules thrusts her hips too, matches the pace of his fingers until he’s fucking her hard enough to make him pant. until she’s sure there will be bruises. 

the windows are open, the door is ajar and she doesn’t care in the slightest—doesn’t care that carly might hear her or someone else might, not when she’s chasing that maddening release that she knows will leave her blacked out for several seconds. 

she doesn’t care until george walks in, frowning at her, not looking away. until he points right at her and says something. but there’s blood rushing in her ears, and the sound of her heartbeat is loud enough to drown out his words and jules can’t stop. she can’t get enough of matty. she ca—

jules jerks awake, panting and practically in a daze, looking around her like she’ll turn and matty would be there, sleeping. although, she can’t quite picture that. she’s never seen him sleeping after all, he always leaves before she’s awake. 

fuck. 

her phone buzzes under her cheek and she realises what’s woken her up. she’s annoyed at first, about to throw it away and go back to sleep, but matty’s name flashes on the screen. she feels her heart lurch in her chest, feels her brain flood with the dream again, and so she cuddles pancake closer, swiping up on the notification.

matty: r u free? matty: do u wanna run errands with me? george ditched me jules: is that one of the benefits i come with? matty: if u want to ;)  matty: i’m fun to be around i promise

she’s sure he is. jules tries to clear her head and focus on typing out her reply. she kind of wants to run errands with him too. it’s not like she has much happening today—she doesn’t have to be at work till 5 pm, and carly doesn’t need any more help with packing.

jules: i’ll need a bribe matty: is my company not bribe enough for u? matty: what do u want  matty: food? coffee? cigs?

she giggles to herself, flipping onto her stomach and crossing her legs. pancake is slotted under her chin, contorted weirdly. 

jules: all of the above matty: ugh! extortion  matty: fine. i’ll pick u up at 10

it’s barely even 8:30. 

time crawls while she gets ready, trying not to check her phone over and over again for any more messages, trying not to check if it’s closer to 10 yet. she even manages to bug carly for a little who asks her about her plans with a coy little smile. 

“with nico?” she waggles her brows after some back and forth and jules shuts down. 

“mm-hmm,” she hums noncommittally, not really meeting her eyes. “i should go. he might show up any time now.”

“do i get to meet him?” carly asks in the same teasing voice. jules pales a little. of course this was going to happen sooner or later. why didn’t she think about this?!

“not…today?” she answers, a bit hesitant. “you’ll get to meet him though, i promise.”

liar, liar, liar! 

she feels worse when carly agrees. she’s lying to her friend and taking advantage of the fact that carly won’t push her. guilt swirls inside her and she almost spills everything. 

would it be so awful if she told carly everything? would she think jules is taking advantage of matty? would she think he is taking advantage of her? 

she sighs quietly, and says her goodbyes, walking into the living room in a much worse mood than she was before. it’s no one else’s fault but hers.

“why do you need that much junk food!” jules giggles as matty tosses one packet of crisp after the other into the shopping cart. 

she was a little quiet during the short drive here, still thinking about everything from before, but matty makes her forget things. and now as they weave through the aisles of big tesco, jules can practically feel her cheeks hurting from all the smiling she’s done.

“george eats a lot,” matty giggles, throwing a pack of sweets in the cart. 

“i’m sure it’s just george,” she retorts, “get some actual food, too, will you?”

“this is actual food!”

“matty!” jules stands toe to toe with him, hands on her hips and her face schooled into a playful glare. matty stares at her too, eyes roaming all over her face. then he lifts up a hand and flicks her nose. 

“it’s so cute you think you can intimidate me,” matty smirks and turns away, walking further down the aisle and leaving her there a bit dumbstruck. 

jules shakes herself and scolds herself a little. it’s stupid that she should let him have such an effect on her. she needs to do better and learn to separate her feelings for fuck’s sake. 

she groans, a little embarrassed when the couple down the aisle throws her a weird look, and runs to catch up with matty. 

“what’s on your list? i’m sure it’s not all this…”

he cocks an eyebrow. “what list?”

“the…” she gestures wildly, trying not to show her exasperation, “shopping list!”

he frowns, throwing her a weird look and not even dignifying that with a response. out the corner of her eye she sees him grab a pack of brownie mix and throw it in the cart. 

“you don’t have one, do you?” she asks pointedly, arms crossed and feet tapping in place. 

“no one under the age of 40 has one!”

“i have one! everyone has a grocery list”

she can already feel her cheeks flaring with heat, with exasperation too. matty’s already biting his lip like he’s trying not to laugh at her. it doesn’t feel mean-spirited though, if anything she has a sneaking suspicion he finds all this…endearing. 

“and what would be on your list next, hmm?”

“none of this,” she turns her nose up sanctimoniously. “my body is a temple.”

matty snorts, stepping a little closer to her. “temple… is that why you like me on my knees so much?” his voice turns into a whisper, words breathed right into her ear. “worshipping.”

heat flares in her body as the dream from last night flashes in her mind again. matty, fingers, his car, a secluded car park. 

it’s fucking impossible not to constantly think about how he makes her feel, not when he says things like this to her in public and has her squirming in the middle of the fucking crisps aisle. 

“veggies,” she blurts out, eyes firmly on the ground, “that would be on my list next.”

“veggies,” he echoes. “george would disown me if i came home with just veggies.”

she rolls her eyes fondly at him, pulling him to the aisle with some fresh produce and meat. to his credit, he follows without complaining much. he even lets her select a few things and put them in his cart. 

the entire time, she has a funny feeling in her chest. not something entirely wrong but like she’s not supposed to be here, like she’s not supposed to be a part of this moment that feels so domestic. 

“done?” he asks, startles her a little and jules steps away. 

“yeah you’re ready for checkout, i think.”

the checkout line, to her utter dismay, is not that long. jules doesn’t let herself think why she feels so disappointed. they’re maybe third in line, behind two people with mostly empty carts. to occupy her mind she looks out the window behind the cashier, at the sky that has gone from clear blue to grey and cloudy.

“it’s gonna rain,” matty murmurs, looking outside too. he hovers behind her, his chin practically on top of her head. jules would be touching him if she took even half a step back… so she stops herself, growing rigid and frozen. 

just sex. what they have together is just sex. 

the line moves—it’s their turn now—and the sky outside darkens some more, rumbling a little now. she braces herself for the thunder to come. not that she’s scared of it… but jules has never been a fan of how loud it is. 

“jesus fuck!” she jumps in place and glares at matty when he snickers. the thunder rumbling is not unexpected yet it’s loud—louder than it has any right to be.

“scared?” he teases. jules focuses on the beeps of the items being scanned, at the periodic thunks of it being placed on the other side.

“of a little thunder?” she turns her nose up at him, faking bravado, “never. i just don’t wanna get stuck in the rain.”

“too late now,” he tsks, and together they look out the window again as the light turns watery. the wind picks up, so does the footfall of people running to find shelter. some gather under the awning of the store they’re in, some come inside the store, shivering a little from their damp clothes. 

matty takes hold of her hand. “we could still make it if we ran…”

jules looks down at their intertwined fingers—at the way his thumb grazes over the back of her hand. her heart beats faster in her chest too. she’s seen him naked and has had his fucking cock in her mouth and yet this… this disarms her a little. 

try as she might though, she can’t seem to let go. so she just looks back up and outside the window. fat drops of rain hit the glass, racing down until they all converge into a tiny puddle. 

“could we?”

“what’s the harm?” he points at his jacket, “we could use this as cover.”

she contemplates it for a second, pictures it in her head and laughs—the two of them dashing through the rain, while carrying the shopping bags, under a jacket that isn’t nearly big enough. another rumble from the skies makes her jolt. this time he manages to stifle his laugh. 

“so?” he asks while holding out money for the cashier, crumpled up notes that come straight from the depths of his pocket. 

“alright,” jules nods, picking up one of his shopping bags when the cashier hands them the groceries. he protests of course, but she ignores him completely. he holds her hand again,  a little tighter this time, when they step towards the door. it slides open automatically, and immediately the wind and rain rush to greet them.

“fuck!” jules squeals, “‘m freezing my tits off!”

she groans the moment she hears his little juvenile giggle—a boyish sound that’s so in character for him. “i could warm them for you, you know?”

“you’re such a man!” she rolls her eyes, trying to stifle a smile, but matty pulls her out from under the awning and right into the torrential rain. 

under the thin shelter of his jacket, they huddle closer, their bodies pressed together to keep as dry as possible. the rain is colder than she expected, and the pavement is already slick beneath their feet. 

matty and jules take off running, his laughter ringing in her ears, mingling with the roar of the storm.

“shit, we’re so unhealthy,” she huffs, barely across the car park. 

he raises his brow at her. “we?”

“shut up,” she punches his shoulder lightly. he’s barely out of breath though, looking at her in amusement and mostly drenched from the rain now. 

matty’s curls are plastered to his face too. the water clings to his eyelashes and a drop falls on his nose, making its way down to his lips. it’s mesmerising, in a way—a drop of water on his lips and suddenly he’s the most beautiful man she’s ever seen. 

when the thunder rumbles again—much louder than before—jules staggers to a stop, right in the middle of the car park like a deer caught in headlights. this time he doesn’t laugh, he just pulls her into him and pulls them along, jogging a bit faster.

“you’re okay,” he smiles at her. she shakes her head.

she can see his car now, a slightly old ford focus. the rain falls harder around them, his jacket is no use anymore, she’s already pretty wet. her t-shirt is already sticking too her. matty’s t-shirt sticks to his body too, the rain makes his hair curlier, and jules tries not to stare so blatantly. 

they throw the grocery bags in the backseat the moment they get to his car, parked in a distant corner of the car park, quite secluded too if she’s being honest. jules feels familiar heat build up in her as she slides into the passenger seat. 

matty closes the door and makes no move start the car, instead he turns towards her and pulls a cigarette out. 

“will you smoke with me?” his voice comes out deeper than before. 

jules isn’t stupid. she can feel his heated gaze roaming all over her body, can feel the way he shifts in his seat and spreads his legs that it’s doing something to him to see her like that—wet with her t-shirt sticking to her body, wet with drops of water running down her arms, her face, her throat. 

“come here,” he says and slides his seat back. 

there’s enough room there now that jules could sit on his lap if she wanted to. and she wants to, she wants to so so badly that she’s practically trembling in her seat. 

matty lights the cigarette and takes a drag of it. 

“we’re in public,” she whispers, looking around. 

“do you see anyone?”

she tsks. through the sheets of rain there’s no one to be seen in the entire car park. thrill runs through her. she’s never done something so reckless, and now she wants to do it so badly that she can practically feel herself lurching forward and onto his lap. 

jules takes a deep breath and shifts, settling so close to him that their chests touch. 

“matty,” she practically moans, “can we… can you…”

“can i what?” he takes another drag of the cigarette and exhales it on her face. jules breathes it in, tries to store it in her lungs. he sounds smug, he smirks like it too. “can i fuck you, you mean?”

his words are vulgar and crass. her breath hitches. as if she’s in a trance, jules nods. she can’t look away—can’t look away from his honey-coloured eyes or the wet curls that fall into them, can’t look away from his pink lips around the cigarette and curved into a smug little smile. 

she pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and puts it into her, taking a drag. the warmth feels good in her chest. jules holds it between two fingers, glancing at the small lipstick smudge she’s left behind. 

it makes her feel bolder than before, bold enough to grind her hips on his thigh and whine. she doesn’t miss the way he swallows roughly. 

“jules…” his voice is a low warning, “our proper first time can’t be in a shitty car, darling.”

“you fingers then,” she replies without missing a beat. 

“fuckin’ hell!” matty takes the cigarette back from her, taking another drag of it, blowing smoke into her parted lips. just when she thinks he’s going to say no, he pops open the button of her jeans, pulls the zipper down agonisingly slow. 

jules moans when his fingers slide inside her underwear, brushing against her clit. 

she bends a little, her tongue against his jaw. his skin tastes like rainwater. “fuck me hard,” she whispers in his ear and matty practically whimpers. 

she can feel the warmth of the cigarette nearby. it burns just like she does, she thinks. 

matty gives her no warning before he thrusts a finger in, hard and fast just like she wanted. she practically screams, hand slamming against the window are already fogging. her fingers leave them marks behind. matty staring at her, she can feel it, can feel the intensity of it. 

a second later he adds another finger, moving his hands till he’s created the perfect rhythm for her. jules moves her hips too, sinking onto his fingers again and again while he blows cigarette smoke on her face. she holds onto him tight, swaying her hips until the pleasure burns so hot that she can’t take it anymore. 

a string of incoherent curses leaves her mouth, and then jules chants his name. 

matty, matty, matty. 

just like in the dream. 

she squeezes around his fingers too, crying out loud when they hit the spot over and over again. distantly she’s aware that matty keeps the cigarette away from them, she knows it’s for her own safety. even then there’s an insane part of her that’s convinced she won’t feel it of it were to burn her. she’s convinced nothing will top this. 

jules throws her head back. almost there, almost there. 

“jules…” he breaths her name like he breathes the cigarette smoke on her fake, like a warm caress. she cries out, holding onto him tightly and cums all over his hand. 

an utterly pathetic mess. 

she stays like that for a second, her face in the crook of his neck, panting, trembling. she stays until he takes his fingers out with a wet pop and licks them clean with his tongue, making sure she’s looking at him the whole time. 

then matty offers her the cigarette, half gone now. 

gratefully jules takes a drag of it, still on his lap, still shaking like a leaf. 

“you’ll end me someday,” matty murmurs as if he’s in a trance, as if those words aren’t really meant for her. 

“i think,” jules bends down and kisses the corner of his lip, “i think, we’ll end each other someday…”

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Request idea:

Your darling, adoring, wonderful boyfriend Jason sits you down And solemnly confesses that he is red hood. He’s been dreading this day for months. If you want to leave, he’ll understand and wait—-

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU KNEW THE WHOLE TIME?

Jason thinks he’s in an angst fic. The reader is in a rom com where her boyfriend has been a ridiculously obvious superhero, but she’ll let him tell her when he’s ready.

Maybe some shaningany flashbacks where you’ve helped to keep his identity secret (stalling so he can change, giving alibis) while he was oblivious.

- Batchilla

To Wait and To Love

Hi Batchilla! Hope you enjoy! ♡

Your boyfriend is a vigilante, Red Hood, to be exact. You know this. He's just not aware you know this.

It's obvious, really, and kind of cute the way he makes excuses to leave. Sure, before you put two and two together, it was starting to seem like he was just dragging you along. But it all made sense when you caught sight of the helmet poorly concealed under his bed.

It makes you wonder if he wants to get caught. Especially when he brings you flowers from the shop you just saw him save from Poison Ivy on TV. Or freezer-burnt cartons of ice cream from your favorite ice cream shop, which was buried under piles of snow courtesy of one Mr. Freeze only twenty minutes ago.

You offer him big smiles and kisses of thanks, and your heart melts a little at how relieved he looks, how baffled he is by your understanding. And you do understand. To tell someone you run around in spandex and leather every night is a big risk, especially for someone who used to run crime in Gotham.

You're no angel yourself, even if he does call you one, and it's endearing to watch him scramble for excuses. It's even more endearing that he tries so hard to make it up to you when he's late, when he has to leave early, when he comes back battered and bruised with flimsy half-thought out explanations.

You'll let him take all the time he needs to tell you, and it's almost funny how easily you've come to cover for him.

"Jason? Oh, he's changing his suit. Someone knocked into me and I spilled my drink all over his jacket. How embarrassing," You laugh out, answering the reporter's question over Jason's absence from the latest Wayne Gala. It's only half a lie, you might not have spilled your drink but he's definitely changing his suit. It's just not the suit anyone would expect.

Once whispers of a break-in at Gotham National Bank started circulating the Gala, it wasn't hard to miss the meaningful glances between your boyfriend and his family. Sometimes you wonder how no one's noticed it before.

You smile brightly at him once he comes back, smelling like gunpowder and leather, and you let him kiss your knuckles while he mumbles apologies over getting caught up with an old friend. You don't imagine Riddler is exactly an old friend, but you teasingly tell him how he owes you a dance for making you wait. He smiles back, his own grin even brighter than yours, as he leads you to the dance floor.

You're opening the door to your apartment, chatting lazily with your friend after a night out.

"Is your boyfriend here? I remember you saying you two were practically living together," they ask, eyes trailing around your living space.

You hum thoughtfully, "We pretty much are. I think he might be sleeping or out looking for the stray cat we saw the other day. It had a bad limp." It's not a hundred percent a lie either, there was a hurt stray. You just know that Catwomen already picked it up, after a text Jason sent to Bruce Wayne's current girlfriend, Miss. Selena Kyle. Which would have been more of a surprise if you didn't already know who Batman was.

But it definitely isn't the truth, because you did catch sight of a red helmet following you and your friend back from the club. (Gotham never felt safer, than when he was watching over you.)

Your friend coos and starts to respond, when a thump sounds from the fire escape. They jolt, "What was that?"

"The cat, probably," You say quickly, letting out a laugh, "it's, uh, pretty big. Has a limp. Hey, did I show you the flowers Jason got me?" You gesture towards the bouquet behind them, and you both focus on the pretty blossoms.

Within minutes, you hear your bedroom door open and close. "Hi, baby," Jason drawls, looping an arm around your waist to pull you to his side, "Sorry, I fell asleep, how was your night?"

You pretend not to notice the limp he's nursing, one you're certain he should be resting, and tilt your head up to kiss his jaw, "It was fun. Missed you."

"I missed you too," he echoes fondly, and the three of you fall into an easy conversation. You distract your friend when you all go to sit on the couch, and if you choose to avoid sitting on his left side, it's certainly not because Red Hood hurt his leg fighting Killer Croc earlier this week.

Jason has never said your name like that before. His eyebrows are knitted together. He's kneeling in front of you, his hands clasped over yours as you sit on the bed.

"I love you and I– I have something to tell you," he chokes out, strained, "please, just– just, hear me out."

It clicks. This is it. He's going to tell you.

You smile and nod, it'll be nice to finally air out this secret. And maybe he could help you work on your excuses? It'll be easier if you're working as a team. You reach out and brush his hair back, unfazed and delighted he's trusting you enough with this, "Of course, Jason. Anything you need to tell me."

Jason is going to throw up. He's finally gotten his act together enough that he's going to tell his partner he's Red Hood. His stomach is churning, it's agony, knowing he could lose them over this.

They're so good to him. So understanding and patient and kind. He has no idea how he got so lucky. And he loves them. It's scary sometimes, how much he loves them. He wants this to last so badly. So, he has to be honest. Has to tell them he isn't what the world says he is.

He's a vigilante. Was a crime lord. He hurts people to save people. He terrifies the trash that calls themselves human. He's not good for you, but he tries. He wants you to still love him.

He wants you to stay so much. Even if he's not good. He wants you. You deserve so much more than the excuses and lies he gives. Jason's wanted to tell you for weeks, but he chokes on his words every time. He's never been so afraid of doing something. Not when he was a kid on the streets. Not when he was Robin. Not as Red Hood.

You look so perfect, sitting at the edge of your bed and smiling at him. He almost flinches when he thinks this could be the last time you smile at him.

He's on his knees. He's prepared to beg. He would beg to keep you.

He says your name, he tells you he loves you. It might be the last time he gets to say that to you. The thought makes him even more nauseous. He tells you he has something to say.

You brush his hair back and keep smiling. He wants to sob. You don't know. You don't know what he is, what he's done.

"I'm Red Hood," he gasps out, voice ragged.

A beat. You're still smiling, you still look happy, and you're nodding at him.

He blinks at you, "I'm Red Hood," he repeats, "I know that- I know it's a lot. I understand if you never want to see me again, but, baby–"

You lean forward and kiss him. He's more than just a little dumbfounded. "Jason, I love you too. I'm not leaving you. I, um, kind of already knew you were Red Hood?" You say, a sheepish smile coming over your face.

"You– what?" Jason stumbles out. You're still here. Still touching him. You kissed him. You look relaxed. Happy.

"I saw your helmet under the bed. Everything clicked after that," You tell him gently.

"And you're okay with that? You're okay with me?" He asks, tone betraying his desperation.

Concern flashes in your eyes, "Of course I'm okay– I'm more than okay with that, Jason. I love you, tights or not."

He lets out a laugh, and his stomach swoops, the tension dissipating throughout his body, "Yeah?"

You grin at him, cupping his face, "Yeah, but you're going to have to show me how you swing around rooftops."

He gets off his knees to kiss you again, he doesn't think this moment could get any better, "Is that all?"

You giggle, at the pure elation in his eyes, and he grins widely at your joy. Then, the moment does get better, "Well, I'm kinda interested in the car Batman drives around you."

"I could make that happen," he murmurs, and seals the promise with another kiss, "You wanna see the batplane too?"

Your eyes light up, and Jason thinks he might be addicted to the mischievous glint that flickers in your gaze.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be. 

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant. 

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace. 

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you. 

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?” 

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry 

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read. 

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once. 

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now. 

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time. 

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door. 

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie. 

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i— uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches. 

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door. 

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes. 

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”