#I swear to god if it’s just one of them left by the end of it

[bluebeesknees]

give him back 🪻

[ginnymoonbeam]

To everybody hoping for Phee and Jin as an endgame ship, I have such terrible news for you about the slasher genre.

[maliciousalice]

Hear me out (or don't... it's fine I'm just venting and mean) yeah um I don't believe Chakotay was saved in Prod*gy s2.

[tonycries]

Madam Gojo - G.S.

Synopsis. Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Gojo, arranged marriage, Satoru is a little (very) INSANE and down bad, the elders are awful, oral (fem receiving), use of “madam”, unprotected, créampie, kníves, overstím, féral Satoru, heinous things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.9k

A/N. I need clan leader Gojo SO bad you guys don’t understand.

They say that the head of the Gojo clan is the one person who could burn down this entire world and get away with it, too. 

The youngest of all the clan leaders - and the most infamous - a man who keeps his friends close, and his enemies even closer. Enough so that you’ve heard whispers of his cruelty at every nook and cranny of those stuffy social functions your family has dragged you to. And it was more than enough to paint a picture of such terrifying power.

Of a sharp blade and an even sharper mouth. Of an angelic figure that left no evidence, nor anyone to tell the tale - only the final, hauntingly beautiful image of cloudy white hair, and electric blue eyes.

Eyes that were currently locked with yours, and didn’t seem like they’d stop any time soon. Dangerous. Magnetic. Twinkling with such odd amusement from across the long tatami room. 

Gojo Satoru, the head of the Gojo clan - your future husband.

“Tch, the Kamo girl’s family had a much better reputation than this one.”

Ah, right. How could you forget?

You shift awkwardly on the mat, managing to rip your eyes over to the line of elders behind Gojo, whispering just loud enough that you’d hear - and, of course, remember once more that no, the marriage proposal hasn’t been approved just yet.

And considering those disapproving glares you’d been so warmly welcomed with, it seemed that they were well and fully intent on keeping it that way.

“I can assure you,” you fight to keep the polite smile plastered on your face, painful and slowly cracking with each passing second being interrogated. “My family is well-respected in the community.” Eyes snapping over to a silent Gojo, skin burning at his intensity. “Very well respected.”

“Come now. We’re just saying.” Another voice speaks up, strained and tinged with a venomous tone you knew didn’t bode well. “Your lineage isn’t exactly illustrious, is it?”

The emphasis on “illustrious” isn’t lost on you, and it’s so fucking dramatic than you think you could almost laugh. Apparently, a few of the elders think so, too - because they’re positively seething at the sight.

Muttering an icy, “Something funny, dear?”

“Nothing at all.” you bite back any insults, sifting around the contents of your untouched dinner - the last thing on your mind right now when it seemed like you were the main scrutiny tonight. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Such attitude!” That offended croak is met with murmured agreements and nods from the end of the room, “The madam of the Gojo household must be demure- I told the young master we should go with the Kamo girl.”

God, why did you agree to this again? Something about strengthening your family ties? You felt sorry for the poor soul who’d end up marrying Gojo, because no matter how much beauty or power he held, it certainly wouldn’t make up for this. 

Scoffing, the words falling from your lips faster than you could register them. “Then why didn’t he?”

And this little question somehow seemed to have struck a nerve - multiple, in fact, as you watch in morbid fascination as the elders visibly bristle. 

“B-because-” one sends a hasty glance at their stone-faced clan leader, flushing at his still-unwavering gaze on you. “You- It doesn’t matter. Someone like you isn’t suited to marry-”

“Right, because this clan is that great.”

You freeze. The elders freeze. It seems like everyone in the world freezes except for Gojo - who only raises his brow. Letting your words hang in the air like a foul stench, studying just how awfully you’re digging your grave deeper in this hellish marriage meeting.

Eventually, the elder closest to Gojo’s right mutters a painfully saccharine sweet, “I knew we shouldn’t have let the riff-raff participate.”

And oh it was like a dam burst open.

“-out of the thousands of girls, for someone like master-”

“The scandal, too- imagine letting the Gojo name fall this far-”

“Isn’t worthy. Can’t let the bloodline be carried by some whor-”

You’re on your feet before you realize it. Whirling at the elders head-on, and if looks could kill then all those old fossils would be six feet under and their graves a dance floor for you already. 

Fists clenched, you spit, “If he’s so wonderful then you all can marry this oh-so-great bastard yourself-”

Oh. You’ve done it now.

You were fucked. You were so very, very fucked. 

You don’t even bother to meet Gojo’s stare, instead wondering whether you’d be able to outrun the strongest clan leader alive. Sure, you could take those old toads but-

“Sit.”

Your heart leaps at the voice, the first time you’re hearing it since entering this room - deep, almost-melodic, and for a second you don’t even recognize who it came from. Not until Gojo’s flashing you a mirthful grin, blue yukata shifting as he moves to sit cross-legged, “Sit.”

Oh, God, you didn’t know of any torture methods one could do while sitting - but you didn’t doubt that Gojo was an expert in all of them. 

And as your knees buckle, sinking ever-so-slowly to sit back down on the floor, Gojo tilts his head in confusion. Brows scrunching together as he gestures downwards.

“On your…lap?” You question, as if the answer wasn’t glaringly obvious. 

The only response you get is a careless nod, Gojo spreading his knees further as if to prove his point. No care or concern as he plows on, “If you’d like, of course.”

It’s a silent staredown - you, and him - and the elders watching jaw-dropped, of course. None of you have ever known the young master to let anyone get this close - let alone give them a decision on, well, anything.

. 

A weighty beat passes. One. Two. 

He wins.

And you find yourself walking unsteadily towards Gojo’s imposing figure, all eyes on you as you plop down unceremoniously in his waiting lap. Warm - and it catches you off guard. Gaze flickering over his broad shoulder to look at the aghast faces behind you. Tension crackling in the air as they wonder the same thing as you at this very moment - just what type of torture method is this? 

“Interesting…I need this one.” You blink up in confusion, heart racing and oh- shit, when did he get so close? But Gojo’s chest only rumbles with laughter. Circling his long fingers around your waist, pulling you flush against his sculpted chest, “As the new madam of the Gojo household.”

What? 

The elders behind let out stifled gasps, as bewildered as you were. And you swear you saw one faint, though, you don’t get to take a close look, because Gojo’s gently grabbing your chin, tilting your head up at his pretty face. 

“Wan’ me to kill them?”

“Kill- why?” you sputter - both from his idea and the heat of his proximity. 

“Why not?” He looks at you through his long lashes, so deceivingly innocent that it makes your head spin. Tone so light, as if he was talking about something trivial like the weather. “An early wedding gift, maybe?” And he sounded like he was joking - you wished he was joking. But you knew better. 

So you swallow thickly, “N-no…thank you.”

At this, Gojo’s eyes twinkle. “Yeah, real interesting.” he coos, voice so uncharacteristically playful. And his lips are so close - too close. Running a thumb along your bottom lip, “Gorgeous, too. Tell me, pretty, what do you think of ruling over this trash?”

And you could feel every eye on you as you mull over the question. Weighty. Scrutinizing - except for Gojo who seemed like he was hanging onto your every word. 

Hell, might as well give ‘em a few heart attacks right?

Words that never come - because your body moves before your mind. And you’ve got one hand gripping his expensive Yukata, the other scrambling for his broad shoulders. Softening the blow as you crash your lips onto his.

Soft - it’s the first thing you register. Followed very shortly by the taste of those cheap lollipops from those local convenience stores you loved - strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because the kiss is over as soon as it happens.

Gojo’s pulling away with a strange light in his eyes, lips flushed a pretty pink, yukata dangling off his shoulder already. You have to train your eyes away from the milky skin, and over to the elders. Yeah, one really had fainted - three, now, actually. 

And only one of them is brave enough to pipe up a rapid, “You- how dare you dirty-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. In a split second, there’s a long dagger pulled out from his yukata, embedded deep into the tatami mat - not even an inch away from the elder who’d opened his mouth. 

“Out.” 

It’s so abrupt that for a second, you think Gojo’s talking to you, voice soft, and so so eerie. It sends shivers down your spine as you raise your eyes to look at his glare at the frozen crowd behind him.

Eyes wide, aura menacing - a grin gracing his features, absolutely nothing like the one he’d sent you - it was something so dangerous and cold. The temperature in the room dropping about ten degrees as he mutters, “I won’t say it twice.”

And immediately, it’s chaos. Each one stumbling over the other to run out the sliding doors first, none of them daring to look you in the eyes now. 

“O-of course, master.” the leader, seemingly, chokes out. One foot out the room already, “I’ll um- check that the servants are doing their work-”

“No. You all will stand outside.” Gojo murmurs, not even bothering to look at them. Instead, cupping your face closer towards his, “And close the door.”

That door could not have been shut faster, ringing in the tense silence. And suddenly you’re too-aware of the audience outside. Too-aware of being left alone with…your future husband? And the way he was looking down at you with something so dark in his eyes.

“So…” he runs his nose down your neck, breathing in your scent. “If you don’t want me to kill those bastards…what else must I gift you, my wife?” 

“Like what?” You gulp, back arching involuntarily into him. 

Gojo laughs at the reaction, teeth ghosting over your racing pulse. “An estate?” Dancing ever-so-slowly, up your jaw, “All the cars you could want?” He blows gently in your ear, chuckling as you yelp in surprise. “Maybe jewelry?” Kissing the tips of your ears, “You’d look gorgeous in blue. And the Zenin clan has the perfect necklaces I can…convince them to send over.” He pulls away, taking you in entirely, “Or maybe-” Lips now ghosting yours. “-something else?”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 

You don’t know who leans in first, just that Gojo’s lips were so sweet on yours. So addictive. Palms cradling your face so softly, while his lips were anything but. 

“Open your mouth, pretty.” he pants into your lips. “Kiss your husband properly, now.”

Shit, you barely even realize the way you’re listening to every single word he says. Jaw falling slack to let him lick at the seam of your lips. Such a messy clash of teeth and spit and him - so hot and starved. Like he couldn’t get enough with the way he hastily moves to press wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. 

“Satoru-” you gasp, and he nips lightly at your bottom lip once you immediately shut yourself up because shit, you’re getting ahead of yourself. Calling the clan leader Gojo by his first name? Hell, you’ll see the gates of heaven before you see an altar. 

But Gojo himself seems to think the complete opposite. “Don’t get all shy now.” he pries away the hand covering your mouth. “Call me ‘Toru’.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, trying to will yourself to say this little nickname.

Too slow, apparently. Because his hands are suddenly everywhere - on your breasts, your hips, giving your ass a slow squeeze. “T-Toru-” you squeal. 

Gojo’s mouth drops into a soft oh! Immediately surging forward as if to claim your lips again - stopping mere millimeters from your lips with a pained grunt. Like it killed him to stay away. 

“See? Jus’ like that.” he angles your head just right, before spitting, once. Twice. Right into your pretty mouth. “N’ now you’re mine.”

And fuck if Gojo wasn’t going to prove it.

He’s laying you down on the mat, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Mine to wed. Mine to carry my legacy.” Thumb running over your hardened nipples as he urgently unbuckles your bra, throwing it behind god-knows-where. “Mine to-” Biting down, ever-so-lightly on your nipple, “-worship.” Hands dipping lower, and lower - just barely teasing the hem of your drenched panties. “Mine to ruin.”

You don’t know what you’re reeling more from - maybe from those words, which you’re sure he said loud enough for the elders outside to hear.

Maybe from the way he’s sliding a finger underneath your panties, sliding it up and down your puffy folds. Making you arch into him like such a slut as he pools your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips, popping them into his mouth with a low groan. 

“Oh. Fuck. Oh, fuck-” Gojo’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Not wasting a second before ripping off your flimsy panties, tucking them away into the waistband of his yukata. “Sweeter than I imagined.”

“S-so filthy-” you mewl, as he spreads your shaky thighs. Lips wobbling pathetically at how he’s admiring your glistening cunt. “Toru, no one’s ever…”

At this, his eyes are back on yours now. Half-lidded, pupil’s blown - and you don’t think you’ve ever even heard of the leader of the Gojo clan being so out of it, let alone see it first-hand. His voice strained as he breathes out a barely audible, “Shit- really? So then…” He’s moving to lick lewd little circles on your inner thigh, “...your husband’s gotta make this memorable, right?”

Gojo doesn’t give the time to even think about answering - he doesn’t trust that he has the fucking sanity to wait that long. Because you’re so pretty splayed out like this for him. Your moans too sweet. Your cunt too tempting. Too his. 

So, really, you can’t blame him when he’s plunging nose-deep into your quivering pussy, licking one, long stripe right up your swollen folds. And fuck the cute lil’ whines escaping your lips are so addictive that Gojo just can’t help but do it again. And again. And again and-

“O-oh my god, ngh- feels too good-” you card your fingers through his soft locks - something that would usually result in a lost hand or two. But for you - anything, for you. “More, Toru.”

Shit, if Gojo thought he’d lost his sanity before then he definitely wasn’t ready for this. 

“So needy.” he’s chuckling into your glistening folds. One hand throwing your legs over his shoulders, the other thumbing over your needy clit. “So perfect. Can’t believe no one’s ever hah- eaten out this pretty cunt before.”

Immediately, he’s squeezing his hot tongue past your folds. And it’s all you can do to buck your hips up so sluttily when he licks at your sloppy entrance. Your throbbing clit. Anywhere and everywhere Gojo could reach.

“Hngh- yes yes yes, too good.”

“Yeah? Ya like this?” He moves his fingers down from your already-ravaged clit, circling your sopping wet hole. “Ya like making such a mess on m’tongue?”

“W-wha-” The words get caught in your throat as you whirl down at the sight below you - Gojo. Gojo, with strands of white hair sticking to his forehead, eyes so glassy. Gojo, tongue lapping at your sweet juices, looking like he wanted to devour you with his eyes, as much as his mouth. 

At your reaction, he grins, furrowing his brow in mock-concern, “What’s wrong, pretty? Can’t talk?” Bullying his long fingers past that first feeble ring of resistance, massaging your plushy walls. “N’ you were so hah- feisty earlier. Thought my new mmpf- wife would be mouthy?”

You give his hair a warning tug, whispering, “Sh-shut up-” But it comes out more breathless than you intended. 

Gojo notices, of course he does. Because he’s letting out a whiny, “Sh-shut up.” Wrapping his pretty pink lips around your pulsing clit, “As you wish, madam Gojo.”

You hear a dull thud from outside, but you can’t even think about turning your head to look because Gojo’s drinking you in like a man possessed. Pumping his fingers in and out, expertly hitting that one spot with each and every thrust. Looking nothing like an infamous clan-leader and every bit on cloud nine as he rolls his tongue over your clit. Over and over and-

“P-please ah- oh-” you squirm.

“Move your hips like that. Yeah- jus’ like that, pretty- fuck-” The most powerful man in the country letting himself be angled and pulled as you pleased, grunting each time you drag your pussy all over his mouth. Fingers frenzied on your clit - sloppy. Fast. 

But it still wasn’t enough for Gojo - he thinks it’ll probably never be. But that’s fine - the two of you have until the wedding night to perfect it, right?

So he’s looping a big arm around one leg, pulling your snug cunt impossibly closer, reaching over to toy with your pretty clit. And then he’s nose-deep in your sloppy entrance, preparing you for what was to come - fucking you both on his tongue and his fingers. 

Jaw grinding deeper, stretching you out, thrusting in and out in and out in and-

“Fuck fuck fuck- Toru m’so…”

“Close?” he slurs into your cunt, grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Fingers just digging into your hips, sure to leave pretty little marks for him to admire later - and to give a message to those old toads outside. “Cum f’me. Shit- cum f’me, pretty.”

Gojo realizes it before you when you’re finally cumming - because your gummy walls are squeezing around him so tight that it’s almost difficult fuck you through your high the way he wants. 

You’re shaking. Blood roaring in your ears, vision spotty. Crying out a hoarse, “Fuck fuck fuck- oh my god, Toru-” Barely even realizing the way you’re rocking your hips so hard into his hot mouth. 

And Gojo keeps going. 

Even when you’re blinking your vision back, big fat tears pricking your eyes at the sheer overstimulation. Even when white-hot electricity sparks behind your eyes each flick of his tongue. Still toying with your poor clit, tonguefucking you so messily. 

“Toru, s’too- ngh- much- fuck.” You can barely get the words out, jolting. Wondering how the fuck his mouth wasn’t tired, yet - how his fingers weren’t cramping up, tongue still as greedy as ever. “C-can’t-”

“You can. You will.” he’s murmuring into your cunt. Running his mouth now, like he was drunk off your pussy. Words as fast and ragged as his tongue. “C’mon, faster. Harder. Fuck-” you flinch as he spits out little profanities into your messy cunt. “Fuckin use me. Use me like the good lil’ wife you are.”

“Oh- shit.” you whine. Clawing at the mats, Gojo’s hair, his shoulders - just anything to cope with the sheer stimulation as he made out with your pussy like a mad man. “Wait- cum- m’gonna…”

You’re cumming and cumming all over again. So hard, even as you grind your hips deeper into Gojo’s mouth. Riding out your orgasm on his pretty face, so painfully good. 

And only then is he finally pulling away. Absolutely wrecked, eyes miles away already, mouth glistening with your slick. Going all the way down his jawline, and onto the tatami mat in a deafening drip! drip! drip!

“Oh.” he runs his tongue along his wet lips. “Who made you cum like this?” 

A smile slowly splits across his face as you manage out a little, “Y-you, Toru…”

“That’s fuckin’ right. Me.” Hypnotized by the heavenly sight of you all fucked-out and twitching with the aftershock. Marveling down at his hand - glossy, and covered with your slick, “N’ m’gonna love you.”

And, well, a good husband always shares, right?

Because Gojo’s shoving his fingers past your kiss-bitten lips, pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way he knew would have your eyes watering, gagging around him so prettily. Eyes widening at the feeling of something so hard and hot between your legs. 

“C’mon, lil’ madam. Lick them clean f’me, will you?”

You’re gasping, “Mmpf- Toru-” Eyes flitting between a smug Gojo and the hand currently untying his robe. So teasing with the way he’s giving you just a flash of those boxers before oh-

Shit. 

You thought that he’d be big - it was expected, in fact. But this was fucking ridiculous. 

All sculpted curves and dips of his body, faint scars painting his milky skin - stories he’d tell you about later, you think. A fucking masterpiece. All the way down, down, down to where his throbbing cock was leaking all over those tufts of white at his toned pelvis.

Rock-hard, and so so angry. Prominent veins running along the side, flushed a shade of pretty pink that glistened with precum in the dim lighting. So intimidatingly long that it already had you worrying for your poor cervix, and thick enough that it had your thighs pressing mindlessly together. 

Something that Gojo obviously didn’t appreciate.

“Now now.” he tuts, pulling back his fingers to spread apart your thighs with ease. So far apart that it burned. “I need these legs open, pretty. I like the view, y’see.”

And he made it quite obvious, too. Spreading your swollen folds so shamefully apart with his thumb - wet with your split. All the blood rushing to his cock at the way you flinch in embarrassment, at the feeling of being so used. Cute. 

“Shhh, relax.” Gojo hums. Spreading the spit and slick lazily along your cunt with his fat head, purposely letting it smear all over your thighs. “M’gonna make this feel so good for you.”

And let it be known that Gojo Satoru was a merciless man - for everyone. 

Except maybe his cute lil’ wife. 

Because, yes, he’s suddenly splitting you apart on his massive cock. Yes, he’s holding your poor hips still, head dropping into the crook of your neck as he sinks in inch by fucking inch. 

But oh God does he have to hold back from fucking your tight cunt exactly the way he wants. The stretch too sinful, your pussy too heavenly. 

Instead he’s kissing away the single tear rolling down your cheek, muttering, “Too big? Aww, f-fuck, pretty. You needa breathe-.” Rich, coming from him considering that Gojo doesn’t know if he was breathing right now. Too caught up in the way he’s rolling your swollen clit between his fingers, gasping into your open mouth, “Trust me. M’gonna make it f-feel hah- good. So fucking good.”

“F-fuck-” Your head is spinning. And you can only give him such delirious little nods as Gojo starts to push in quick, lazy little grinds of his hips just to squeeze inside your gummy walls. Past that first, tight ring of resistance. 

“S’too big-” you squeal, nails raking down his back. “A-are you all the way in- yet?”

“Nope.” he’s popping the p, so unfairly smug. “Not even halfway in.” Drinking in all your cute lil’ sobs as he snakes a hand up to draw an invisible line across your stomach. “But you b-better be prepared, wifey. Because this-” Pressing down, hard. “-is where I’ll be.”

You didn’t know who wanted that to become a reality more - Gojo or you. 

Especially with the way your tight cunt is sucking him up so good, and shit for all Gojo’s reputation, he feels like he could’ve cum right then and there. 

“Shit- so fucking tight. God- you’re gonna make me lose my mind.” words so strained. So dangerous. He kisses down your neck, biting right above your racing pulse. “How do you want it? Like you’re my hah- wife- or my lil’ slut?”

A trick question, you think - as much as you could when you’re this cockdrunk, at least. 

Locking eyes down at the way your cunt was bulging so obscenely around his cock, clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in in in- Unstopping. Relentless. Mewling a little, “L-like I’m your…wife.” 

“Louder.”

“Like I’m your wife.”

Several things happen at once - that faint muttering suddenly increases tenfold, and maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have noticed the few gasps. Gojo, however, does hear. 

It only takes an irritated growl and a split-second flash of metal for a second dagger to be struck deep into the thin wooden panel of the door - unfortunately for whoever just so happened to be on the other side. 

“That’s right. My wife.” And then he’s bottoming out - heavy balls smacking your ass, leaky tip nudging your poor cervix, letting you mark him up all you want as he rocks his hips faster into yours. “And you- ah- you realize they’re beneath you, right?” he’s stroking where he can feel himself bulging inside you. “That my lil’ wife just has to say the word n’ I’ll ngh- take ‘em all out?” 

You can only sob at the pressure, because his words are so soft but he’s fucking you so mean. Sounding like he was losing his sanity with each time your heavenly walls milked him. 

“I’ll kill ‘em- kill ‘em all-” he’s gritting out. “Hell, I’ll take down the r-rest of those clans ah- too if it pleases you.” Fingers getting so erratic on your clit, angling his hips just right to try and find- 

“Hngh- f-fuck, Toru- there-”

That.

So sloppy with the way he’s alternating between hitting that one spot and just abusing your cervix. Bruising - like he wanted to mark you everywhere n’ show it off, too. Biting down your neck, whispering into the skin, “Anything for you, madam.”

Rocking his hips harder, and he couldn’t give less of a fuck about the lewd little pool of slick and split forming on the mat below. Can’t even think to bring himself to be disgusted. 

“Feels good?” he’s drinking in your adorable sobs, “S’what you imagined?”

You’re torn between running away and fucking your hips up so bruisingly into his, hells digging into the mat as you push and pull away. “Yes. Feels- ah- ngh-” And for all your mouthiness earlier, you can’t even form coherent sentences right now - something that makes Gojo balls squeeze so painfully.

Something that has him wrapping his arms around your legging, dragging you like some ragdoll back to him. Rocking his hips so bruisingly deeper and deeper as he babbles. 

“Gonna make you c-cum. So hard.” He’s fucking you harder into the mat. Faster. Sloppier. “Gonna ngh- make you my beautiful bride.” Bouncing you on his painfully hard cock like he was claiming you from the inside - to leave marks for everyone in the clan to know. His balls on your ass, your nails down his shoulders, lips on your neck leaving little bites. “Gonna make you mine, pretty. And everyone else s’gonna know.”

And Gojo can tell when you’re close because he’s learned that you have a habit of squeezing him to insanity when you are. 

“Close?” At your delirious nod he’s giving you a blinding grin, “How cute. Why don’t you hah- cum f’me like the good lil’ wife you are, hm?”

Cum for him you do - thighs shaking, body jolting. So hard and violent that you’re covering him in all your sweet sweet juices. 

And he can only watch - awe-struck - as your pretty pussy squirts all over his angry cock glistening, and just drenched with your slick now. Beads of it getting all over his burning abs, trickling down every dip and curve as he uses your quivering pussy harder and harder-

“God, you’re so good f’me. Look how much you came.” Giving a final, harsh thrust. “So perfect f’me.”

So fucking smug as he finally cums as well. Letting out a low, muffled moan into your neck as he fills your poor pussy with rope after rope of seed, painting your walls such a sinful white. All the way until he was sure you were bloated with his cum, until he could feel it dribbling down the side. Looking down to confirm and- ah, sure enough, it was such a heavenly sight - thick globs drenching your clothes below. Spreading in a pool as his hips push deeper and deeper. 

Like it hurt to stop. Like it hurt to even think of tearing his eyes away from you. 

But, alas, this old meeting room could only take so much, and Gojo thinks you’ll enjoy his - your - bedroom much better for round two.

Which is how the elders outside found the door kicked open not too long after. Blinking up in shock at the tall figure of the Gojo clan leader at the frame holding you. Tired and limp in a princess carry, all bundled up your yukata and one of his outer robes. 

And they can only avert their eyes, faces burning at the hazy expression on your face, hair so unsubtly messy, bare legs twitching ever-so-slightly from where they were just peeking out from where the fabric had bunched up. Sinful. Desecrated. And evidently his. 

“Clean that room up.” 

Gojo’s stern command snaps them all out of their reverie. 

But before they could all run to do so, he’s plowing on, unapologetic and low. “Oh, and bow down-” chuckling lightly as they scramble to their knees before him - and your barely-lucid figure. “-to the new madam of the Gojo household.

A/N. On my period I’m gonna cry. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[gibbearish]

anyways. have yall seen the deliverance. and if yes have you read the wikipedia article. because like. that woman 100% was literally just straight up abusing her kids and used the church to get out of it. the movie doesnt even try to hide it that hard. "based on a true story" except of course for all of the important bits of context like how the cps agent was not in fact a nonbeliever in the supernatural before switching to her side and never did so and that the kid could only walk up the wall with his grandma's help and that none of the prior tenants had similar experiences (@ trey whered you go) and the POLICE CHIEF BELIEVED IN DEMONS BEFORE MEETING HER !! and that every SINGLE thing that happened in real life can be (and fucking IS) explained by child abuse. half the time the movie is just like "ok yeah sure maybe she was abusing her kids, but only because demons made her do it". and then drop little hints that she was in jail before for Something (doesn't say what but i can guess) and that her drinking problems are well established and that her oldest son was stockpiling money to get away from her long before they moved to that house. also i could be misreading the timeline but seems like her supernatural experiences only started after her own abusive mother moved back in with her which can SO easily trigger old wounds to come back to the surface so like OF COURSE youre gonna start seeing shit, disturbances can be a ptsd symptom !!!!

tldr; fuck latoya ammons so hard, if this is the made-presentable-for-tv version then like. i want to say i cant imagine what the real life version was like, but i very much can. and for that, fuck her. immensely. i hope her children are actively writing a rebuttal and/or reaching out to lawyers to sue her ass as we speak.

[gothgoblinbabe]

She Wolf

A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!

Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, fem reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)

divider credit here

“Are you ever gonna tell him?”

You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.

“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”

You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.

You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.

Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now. 

“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week. 

“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.

Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again. 

“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”

You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.

“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand. 

He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”

Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”

She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play. 

It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie. 

“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.

“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.

“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.

“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.

“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.

As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.

Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.

“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.

“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”

It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze. 

Definitely not my type of girl. 

“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs. 

“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.

“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”

“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly. 

“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”

“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”

“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence. 

Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.

“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.

The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.

“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.

Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.

“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.

“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”

“Only one way to find out.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.

It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers. 

Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.

“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”

“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed. 

“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”

“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.

He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing. 

“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”

Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.

Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.

“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.

“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”

Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.

“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice. 

“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently. 

“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable. 

“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.

Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more. 

“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne. 

“Sure, why not?”

As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.

“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

S.O.S., she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.

“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.

“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”

“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.” 

“No.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?” 

Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.

The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people. 

“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.

“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.

“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.

She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free 

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter. 

And you were with a guy.

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey

It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way

“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.

“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.

That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way. 

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys

I just want to enjoy 

By having a very good time

And behave very bad in the arms of a boy

You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.

The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

S.O.S., she's in disguise

“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”

You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing. 

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.

“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him. 

“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip. 

There's a she wolf in the closet

Let it out so it can breathe

“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.

“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”

“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.

“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants. 

“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”

What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs. 

“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you. 

“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time. 

“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”

“What was that? You’re welcome - “ 

“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”

“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”

He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”

None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before. 

You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”

“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.” 

You hugged her back.

“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze. 

“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.

“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”

The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.

“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”

You understood what she meant immediately. 

“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”

“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”

Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.

You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.

“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”

“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.

“And I can’t want it either?”

That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.

You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom. 

“What’s going on with you?”

“Leave me be.”

You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out. 

“Logan.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.

“Move.”

“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “

“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.

“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.

You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.

“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”

Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him. 

“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”

“Why do you care?” 

You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.

“Stop.” 

You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.

You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“

“I’m not.”

He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.

“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.

“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”

You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”

You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.

“It worked, are you happy?”

“No, I’m not - “

“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”

You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started. 

“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.

“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.

“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed. 

You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name. 

“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.

He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.

“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”

Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.

“Save me the trouble of what?”

You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.

“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”

You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you. 

“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”

You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.

“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”

All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind. 

“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.

“Logan.”

Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you. 

No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top. 

“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.

You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”

“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”

After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.

“Did it work?”

His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.

You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath. 

“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”

Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.

Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?”

You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.

You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him. 

When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.

“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.

“Agreed.”

His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.

He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”

“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.

“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.

He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”

His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.

“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck. 

“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go. 

Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.

“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.

“Please what, baby?”

“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck. 

He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back. 

“Can I take this off you, baby?”

You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.

“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”

He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.

You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking. 

“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.

“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs. 

Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.

He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.

“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.

You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.

“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.

“Yeah?”

His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.

“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.

You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.

“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”

He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.

He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name. 

A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”

It was Scott.

 You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face. 

“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.

“You sure?”

You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing. 

“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”

Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.

Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.

“Logan, I’m - “

“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”

His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.

“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.

“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.

He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers. 

“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.

Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.

“You’re into pain, huh?” 

You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.

“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing. 

When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.

“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him. 

You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking. 

“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist. 

“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust. 

You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back. 

Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.

“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.

“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“Feels good?”

It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size. 

“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him. 

“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.

That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress. 

He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.

“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again. 

“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you. 

He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful. 

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.

“Bite me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”

“Please.”

You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.

He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip. 

“Please.”

His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again. 

You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds. 

Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm. 

“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.

“Want me to stay?”

“Mhm - please.”

The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep. 

“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”

The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.

“Really?”

“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”

You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be. 

“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.

“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.

Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.

“You can make it up to me some more.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks

[tgcg]

an open fly walking

i didnt like this one but i thought id finally air it out since its been sat in my folders for months now

TG: hey karkat

CG: YEAH?

===

TG: you ever noticed you like

TG: walk weird

CG: WOW, OKAY.

CG: HAVE *YOU* EVER NOTICED THAT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT?

TG: pff

===

TG: no listen because i got my ears scoping that shit im like a scouter for dude activity

TG: ok maybe me mentioning it to you is gonna fuck up your ecosystem or something but

TG: you have the heaviest feet of the century man

CG: I DO???

TG: just thrust them straight down into the ground like youre trying to homebrew a san andreas fault

TG: viciously tamping on tectonic plates hoping for top score on the richter scale

TG: waging war against solid particles and the basic flow of gravity

TG: i could ID those footfalls out of a million i mean it

CG: SERIOUSLY?

===

TG: i mean theres nothing wrong with it but

TG: yeah

CG: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU'RE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW.

TG: im not fucking with you striders honor

TG: when have i ever lied to anybody about anything

CG: NOT UNPACKING THAT QUESTION WITH YOU TODAY.

CG: BUT SHIT, HOLD ON. LET ME SEE.

TG: yeah take the umbrella go over there and just walk to me

CG: ON IT.

===

===

TG: see you just kinda slam em straight down dude

CG: THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY RIOTOUS FUCKING JOKE OF A LIFE.

TG: dont your feet ache

===

CG: MOOT POINT. THIS MIGHT SOUND INSANE BUT I'VE ACTUALLY HAD MY STRUT PODS FOR A WHILE. ANY KIND OF PAIN THIS WOULD'VE BEEN CAUSING WOULD BE TOTALLY FILTERED OUT OF MY SPONGE BY NOW AS BACKGROUND NOISE.

TG: damn i didnt think that through

TG: my shades

CG: ALRIGHT, GET BACK UNDER THE SHITTING UMBRELLA AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME.

TG: look ive fucked myself over here too i dont have shit to clean these with

TG: ugh

===

TG: guess its karma

CG: HOLY FUCK. HOW DID I NEVER NOTICE THIS BEFORE?

TG: i dunno but im gonna assume having a dad thats a literal crab monster is probably a contributing factor

TG: im guessing thats not a great role model for this kinda thing

TG: just conjecture i mean

CG: YOUR ENVY IS OVERWHELMINGLY OBVIOUS DAVE. AS A DISCLAIMER, HE WOULD'VE ABSOLUTELY KICKED YOUR ASS.

TG: yeah probably

CG: THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL THERE IS TO SAY ON THE MATTER.

===

TG: but see bro had me stringent on feather feets

TG: i bet i could slip across a bike horn warehouse with nary a fucking toot

CG: HAHA. ASSUMING YOU DON'T MAKE A TOTAL ASS OF YOURSELF, AS PER USUAL.

CG: IF YOU WEREN'T CONSTANTLY RUNNING YOUR GASH ABOUT EVERYTHING AND BEING AN INIMITABLE CLOWN I SERIOUSLY THINK YOU COULD BE ON PAR WITH YOUR CUSTODIAN.

CG: THAT IS A MONUMENTAL "IF".

TG: well look at it this way

TG: im basically doing you all a favor by being a dumbass

TG: never gonna get caught off guard by the bozo patrol

CG: WOW. GOOD POINT.

===

TG: also screw this can i use your shirt

TG: this stupid hoodie is just smudging my lenses up

TG: i cant see dick

CG: UH

CG: SURE, I GUESS.

TG: cool

===

TG: so yeah i could be prowling around like a goddamn verbal assassin sniping convos left and right

TG: but no ive got the decency to go bunp in the night

CG: YEAH.

CG: IT'S DEFINITELY COMPOUNDED BY THE CONSTANT INANE RAMBLINGS.

CG: BUT

CG: IT'S ACTUALLY PRETTY RELAXING, Y'KNOW? IT HAS ITS OWN RHYTHM.

TG: see yeah i sound it off and

===

TG: wait really?

CG: YEAH

CG: I DON'T KNOW

CG: FUCK. HOW DO I EXPLAIN THIS WITHOUT WANTING TO CRAM MY FROND DOWN MY PROTEIN CHUTE.

===

CG: IT'S LIKE

CG: A SALVE FOR MY AGGRAVATION SPONGE.

CG: YOUR VOICE IS THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT OF ASPIRIN.

TG: uh damn karkat hold your hoofbeasts i was talking about the rhythm thing

CG: ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. I'M TAKING US BOTH THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW. YOU HAVE REACHED THE BAD END OF THIS CONVERSATION.

TG: you think thatd be heroic or just

CG: IF I WAS STILL GHOSTING AROUND THE RUINS OF SGRUB'S ARCANE FRIGGIN GAME SYSTEMS, THE COMPLETE LACK OF SHIT AFOOT NOWADAYS WOULD BORE ME TO DEATH.

CG: LIKE. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME OUR THERMAL HULL LEVELLED UP, DAVE?

TG: hah

===

TG: but uh

TG: i mean we had aspirin on earth

CG: NO, NUMBNUBS.

CG: I'M SAYING YOU ARE MY ASPIRIN.

TG: oh

CG: YEAH, TAKE THAT TO THE BANK AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR 20-KARAT ASS.

===

TG: heh

TG: well get this

TG: i will literally talk at you forever for free

TG: you got lifetime priority seating for the davealogues

TG: never gotta go to the drugstore again you can just get doped up on my dulcet tones for the rest of time

TG: take that and some of this

TG: im packin punches

CG: OW, FUCK! NO! MY MIGRAINES!

CG: SWEEPS OF VEINCLOTTING AND NERVEFRAYING DOWN THE FUCKING GAPER. BECAUSE OF YOU.

CG: YOU ASSHOLE, THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME.

CG: AND YOU'RE LAUGHING.

TG: chuckle up it only gets worse from here

===

CG: BE HONEST WITH ME. DID FONDLING MY SHIRT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET EVEN DO ANYTHING?

TG: barely but yknow sometimes you just gotta deal the cards youre given

TG: ill just be astigmatic for a while its cool

CG: PFF… OKAY MAN.

[ellecdc]

Hey I have a request:

Could you do poly marauders but Sirius and reader prank James and Remus by saying she is pregnant and then she finds out she is actually pregnant and they don't believe her straight away.

You don't have to if you don't want to.

Thank you ❤️

hi sweets! so I ended up changing this a litttllllee bit simply because I wasn't comfortable writing about joking re: pregnancy [just cuz it's a sensitive topic for many]. but I hope I did the rest of the request justice! <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader who is not pranking them right now [1.7k words]

CW: pregnancy tests, reader is pregnant, everyone is surprised but generally happy about the pregnancy

You supposed you shouldn’t be entirely surprised that this is how the boys would react; it probably did seem suspicious that this would come up now. 

Now being that the four of you were in the middle of a sort of prank war. 

No, not sort of, it was a full out prank war, no holds barred. 

It had started when James and Remus convinced you and Sirius that the two of you had locked you all out of your flat, forcing Sirius (with James’ help) to have to shove you up the fire escape and crawl through the window, hauling Sirius up behind you only to find Remus sitting casually in his chair and James bursting through the front door laughing. 

“That doesn’t even make sense, you guys.” Sirius grumbled as he used the bottom of his shirt to wipe sweat from his eyes and you swept cobwebs out of your hair. “James had to work just as hard as we did to get in.” 

“No,” James countered, “I got to touch Y/N’s bum as we hoisted her up, and then got to watch your arms flex as you climbed up after her.” 

Then, as retribution, you and Sirius took their phones and changed the name of every single one of their contacts to Dennis Quaid. 

In retaliation, Remus and James taped fake spiders behind the lampshades, and one evening you’d been walking into the living room with a bowl of popcorn when Remus asked Sirius to turn the lamp on, resulting in an ear splitting screech from Sirius and a sea of popcorn littering the floor. 

Cling wrap was added to the tops of shampoo bottles before the tops were recapped, causing more than a few shower meltdowns. The sugar for tea was replaced with salt. Blow up dolls were hidden behind doors. Furniture was moved several inches to the left. Picture frames throughout your home were replaced with images of Steve Buscemi. 

It was fun, it was harmless, it was good natured. Did it result in Sirius shouting profanities after coming face to face with an inflatable clown? Sure. Did Remus spit his tea out and curse and mutter under his breath in Welsh when he had to go and make himself another cup? Yeah. Did James demand his mother prove to him that she wasn’t really Dennis Quaid by facetiming him? Absolutely, and the mischievous glint in Euphemia’s eyes was a prize in and of itself. 

So while you didn’t necessarily blame them for being suspicious of you, you were a little insulted that they thought you would take it this far.

You’d been feeling extremely lethargic lately, and when that lethargy was followed by full body aches, you had chalked it up to an oncoming period. Except that period never came.

It never came.

But the two pink lines did.

“Oh my god…” You whispered, plastic in one hand as you covered your mouth in a silent gasp with the other. “Oh my god.” You repeated, slightly louder as you all but stumbled out of the ensuite into your bedroom.

“I know it was you, Sirius!” You heard Remus shout from down the hall.

“I swear to God, I didn’t touch the remote.” Sirius laughed. 

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.” James' voice retorted, rising in volume as he made his way down the hall towards your shared room. “Angel, do you know where Sirius hid the remote?” 

You were frozen in the middle of the room with your hand still covering your mouth as you stared down at the positive pregnancy test in your hand. 

“Angel?” James asked quietly as he moved towards you. “Are you alright?”

A breath left your lips but you found that you couldn’t bring yourself to form an intelligent response.

Your view of the test quickly included James’ socked feet in front of yours and a gentle hand on your wrist so he could see what you were holding. “Wha-” he began, though fell silent when the fact that you were holding a pregnancy test was undeniable. 

“Oh fuck, that’s a good one.” He let out with a breath, laughing as he backed away from you. “Fuckin’ hell, you almost had me there for a moment.”

“Nice try, Sirius!” He called as he exited your room, leaving you standing there with your mouth open and your heart in your stomach. 

“Nice try, what?” You heard Sirius call back as you mindlessly followed James out of the room and towards the living room; limbs working on autopilot as your brain was reduced to a steady chant of oh my god oh my god ohmygod ohmygodohmygodohmy- 

“What? Was the whole remote thing just a bit?” James chuckled as he reclaimed his spot on the love seat and Sirius’ brows furrowed where they were pointed down at the phone in his hand.

“A bit for what? And for the last time, I didn’t hide the remote.”

“So we still don’t know where the sodding remote is?” Remus grumbled as he stood from his chair and started moving all of the cushions again. 

“Come on, spill; the jig is up.” James continued. “It didn’t work.”

“James.” You tried, but your throat was so tight that his name only came out as a silent whimper. 

“What didn’t work?” Sirius asked again, finally looking up at James from his phone.

“The pregnancy test.” James replied, causing Remus to pause in his cushion wrangling to look at him in bemusement.

“Wh- what? What pregnancy test? What is he talking about?” Sirius rapid fired as he turned his gaze to you, standing from his seat but not making any moves to approach you. 

Another helpless sound fell from your lips as you shrugged at Sirius helplessly; one hand still holding the test, the other hand still covering your mouth. 

“Wait, what is going on?” Remus asked as he returned to his full height, James shaking his head in admonishment as he moved to stand beside him. 

“These two think they’re so clever, pranking us with a pregnancy test.”

Remus let out a snort, but James’ explanation seemed to restart Sirius’ brain as he rushed over to you in two large strides before pulling your hand closer to him so he could read the test.

“Pregn- babe?” He barely managed to spit out, moving his gaze from the test to your face when you didn’t answer. 

You shrugged helplessly at him again which seemed to tell him all he needed to know as he loosened his grip on your wrist, though he didn’t let go, before tracing soothing circles over your pulse point with his thumb. 

“Did you splurge on acting lessons, Sirius? You look like you’re about to pass out.” Remus chuckled, though his face fell dramatically when you finally looked over at him with tears pooling in your eyes. 

“Whoa, whoa whoa, hey, dovey. What’s going on?” He started as he moved across the room, James not far behind him.

“I-” You tried, but the next sound that left your lips was a sob.

“Oh, oh. Oh my god….oh my god, it’s not a prank at all, is it?” James whispered mostly to himself, though you shook your head at him anyways causing a few tears to finally fall from your lash line. 

“Oh my god, angel, I’m so sorry, I- I can’t believe I laughed at you. Fuck, oh my god, I-”

The next thing you knew, the test was being plucked from your hand rather gently before it was passed to James to look at again, and Remus pulled both of your hands away from your body and wrapped them around himself. 

“Sirius.” James whispered and when you turned to look, Sirius was leaning against James to get a better look at the test cradled in his hands. “Sirius, Sirius…”

Sirius let out an emotional laugh as he shoved his face into James’ shoulder, tears of his own falling down his cheeks as James wrapped one of his arms around his boyfriend and pulled him closer. 

“Dovey.” Remus hissed as he took your face in his hands. “Is…is this real? Is- are you really pregnant?” 

You nodded as you swallowed before finally finding your voice. “I…I think so. It looks like it.”

James let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob as he rubbed Sirius’ back roughly. 

Remus laughed wetly and pressed more than a few kisses to your face.

“Oh my god.” Sirius laughed as he wiped tears away from his face. “I’m sorry they didn’t believe you, babe. That- oh my god.” He said as he pulled you from Remus’ grasp and into his. “You’re fucking phenomenal.” 

“I haven’t even done anything yet.” You laughed into his shoulder as you watched Remus and James share a kiss behind him. 

“Are you kidding? Fuck, oh my god… I can’t believe this.” He whispered as he pulled away from you, only far enough that he could place his hands on your waist and look at your not at all rounded belly. 

“We almost missed hearing the best news of our lives over a remote.” James laughed from where he was tucked into Remus’ side.

“It’s on top of the refrigerator.” You sniffled. 

“You bastards.” Remus groaned before he and James yanked you and Sirius over to join their hug. 

“Wait.” James paused as he lifted his head to level you and Sirius with a look. “The remote was the prank, right? Not this?”

“Not this, Jamie.” You agreed quickly. “Not this.” 

He let out a relieved sigh and looked close to tears again. “You just wait until we get you back.” 

“No, you can’t prank me anymore; I’m pregnant and sensitive.” You whined, causing Sirius to bark a laugh, James to huff, and Remus to snort.

“Alright…” Remus offered as he narrowed his eyes at you playfully. “You’ve won this round.” 

“I think we might have to call it a tie, Moons.” James whispered as you felt a loving hand settle on your stomach.

[skzms]

⛓️˚₊‧⁺⋆♱ ruin me - part I lee know x f!reader

In his dirtiest, deepest fantasies, you know exactly what he wants. You run your pretty fingers along his jaw, down his throat, letting your nails drag over his skin dangerously. You stare at him like you’re ready to devour him whole, and then you wrap your hand around his throat and squeeze until his vision fuzzes out at the edges. You force him onto the bed, rip his clothes off until he’s bared to you in all his desperation, maybe make him get on all fours, push his face into the sheets as you inspect his hole. And, God, he begs, begs until his throat is raw, promises you anything for just one touch. OR perv!bsf!minho finds your panties. temptation is too strong.

word count: 4k words

author's note: the second part of this is basically almost done and will be dropping in the next couple of days, but I needed to separate them for pacing reasons. the second part is ... long. for reasons that will become apparent at the end of this. also this is pretty filthy, so heed warnings!

warnings: this a perv!skz thing so Minho’s being weird and pushing boundaries, please don’t see this as a model of healthy behaviour; mention of food and being full in a sexy way because this may be perv!Minho but he’s still Minho; panty stealing; masturbation; male squirting; choking and breathplay by himself (DON'T!!!); fantasizing about degradation, praise, more choking, painplay; dacryphilia; one mention of breeding; implied butt stuff (m receiving)

link to part 2

skzms masterlist // ko-fi

Ten seconds. Ten seconds is all it took.

One, you disappearing into the bathroom to find your bracelet.

Two, Minho scuffing his foot into the plush carpet next to your bed and spotting something peeking out from under the bed frame.

Three, a single shift of his weight from one foot to the other, to see what it was.

Four, a realisation that made his mouth go dry and his heart skip a beat.

Five, six, seven, his body moving before his brain could stop him.

Eight, nine, clammy hands shoving the material into the pocket of his jeans, next to his traitorous cock that was already filling out.

Ten, you walking out of your bathroom, pretty and glowing like the main character in a movie as you slot your earring into place, shirt riding up enough to expose a sliver of soft waist, jeans digging into the pudge of your stomach in a way that makes Minho’s stomach lurch with need.

A few steps of your pretty socked feet on the hardwood, a smile up at him, looking at him through your lashes, offering him your wrist, your bracelet dangling between your fingers. Minho is glad he manages to hold your gaze, glad his fingers aren’t shaking, and his body doesn’t betray him when your chest keeps rising and falling, tits so close to his fingers that he could brush against them if he straightened them out. He takes a deep breath, is overwhelmed with the smell of you, your shampoo, your perfume. His cock is half hard, his guts pulsing with the same gut-wrenching desire you pull out of him all the time without even trying, only this time it’s made more deliciously maddening by the knowledge of what he’s hiding in his pocket.

Your panties. Black, simple, only a little lacy around the edges, crushed up in a ball in the left pocket of his blue jeans, burning a hole into his skin, a hole into his conscience, where guilt and unbearable desire swear to rob him off his sanity, as he struggles to be even half coherent as he flips the meat on the grill at your favourite KBBQ place.

Of course, he grills it for you. He would worship the ground you walk on, if he could – but you don’t know that, so he settles for grilling your meat and watching you eat well, preening at the happy, satiated grin on your face when you’re done, resisting the urge to reach across the table to wipe a smear of grease off the corner of your mouth or let his hand drag over your full, undoubtedly warm, soft belly to slip between your legs and caress a full-body orgasm out of your warm, –

He has to shake himself out of it, has to will his cock back to the half chub he’s been sporting all day that has only been controlled by his willpower and his willpower alone, has to force himself to put one foot in front of the other when the food and the two shots of soju have mellowed you into a clingy, sleepy version of you that holds on to his bicep as you walk, head resting against his shoulder in a way that he knows will leave the smell of your hair ingrained there for exactly two hours, long enough for two orgasms, rubbed out of his cock, burning with guilt and shame and so much desire it makes his world feels like it tilts on its axis and makes him sob into his pillow when the high fades …

He almost forgets about the panties, mind entirely elsewhere on the cold walk from your place to his after dropping you off, thinking about you, yes, but also Doongie’s birthday, as he toes off his shoes in the hallway, drops his coat on the hook, wonders whether cats feel their own age at all and if they know why humans give them presents and the good wet food once a year …

Until he stands in the middle of his bedroom, reaches into his pockets for his phone, his wallet, his keys, ready to peel off his pants and shove the shoulder of his sweater under his nose and finally take care of his half hard, aching cock when he reaches into his pocket and his fingertips meet cotton.

His hands are shaking when he pulls them out of his pocket, and it only takes him one look before he flings them onto his bed and takes a shaky few steps back, his heart thundering in his chest.

They’re not washed. They’re worn.

They’re worn

His cock pulses between his legs, his stomach coiling with so much desire it nearly makes him double over. He digs his fingers into the wood of the dresser behind him.

Somewhere deep within him, his conscience rebels, strikes the alarm. Tells him that he shouldn’t do this, that he should know that once he gets a taste of this, he won’t be able to go back. That he’s fucked in the head and that he knows it, that he’ll be digging through your dirty clothes hamper before the next week is up to get more, more, more, because he’ll wrap them around his cock and smear his release all over the residue of your pussy, and he’ll never be able to forget the taste of it once he has it on his tongue.

He wars with himself like that for what feels like hours, until the sun has sunk way past the horizon, shrouding his room in darkness until the offending material is nothing but a dark shadow on his bedsheets. Standing at the other end of his room, as far away from his bed as possible, gnawing at his bottom lip, but he knows he’s delaying the inevitable.

He knows his fate was sealed the moment he reached under the bed and stuffed the panties in his pocket.

His legs don’t feel like his own when he slowly walks over, sinks onto his bed. Blindly, he feels around for the thing that has been tormenting him. When his fingers find lace, he crushes the panties into his hand with an iron grip. His legs part slightly. His chest feels tight. Arousal makes his brain feel foggy, until everything fades, except the one thing that’s always there, in every waking thought — you.

In his more tame fantasies, he takes what he can get. He imagines kissing you, maybe, if he lets himself go where he shouldn’t, he imagines you kissing him. Shoving your pretty pink tongue that he’s only ever gotten greedy glimpses of when you were eating or taking a sip from your coffee, right into his mouth. He’d probably drool all over himself, but you’d like it. You’d climb into his lap and his hands would be shaking once he finally got to touch you. But touch you, he would. He would commit every inch of you to memory. He would push his fingers into you, rub an orgasm out of you, suck your juices off his fingers and not wash his hands just so he could rub them against his nose for the next 24 hours while he jerked his cock raw.

But here, in the darkness of his room, with the black lace of your panties crushed between his fingers, he lets himself venture where he doesn’t often let himself go, where it’s too dangerous. Because if he let himself believe that you could give him what he really wants, his hopes would get too strong to contend with reality, threatening to distort it and warp it until the tenuous grasp he has on his sanity, on his sick and twisted and unrequited love for you, slipped right through his fingers.

Because in his dirtiest, deepest fantasies, you know exactly what he wants. You run your pretty fingers along his jaw, down his throat, letting your nails drag over his skin dangerously. You stare at him like you’re ready to devour him whole, and then you wrap your hand around his throat and squeeze until his vision fuzzes out at the edges. You force him onto the bed, rip his clothes off until he’s bared to you in all his desperation, maybe make him get on all fours, push his face into the sheets as you inspect his hole. And, God, he begs, begs until his throat is raw, promises you anything for just one touch.

He likes to imagine, how you’d render every gram of muscle he’s worked so hard on in the gym useless. How you’d make him feel like he’s nothing. Smaller than small. Just a vehicle for your pleasure. Maybe you’d condescend to calling him pretty. Run your sweet, deadly fingers over the arch of his nose, stare down at his lips without touching until he’s shivering. Reduce him to tears with just one look of those eyes he has the privilege of being seen by, without ever truly being seen. He doesn’t want you to just see him. He wants you to see everything, wants to be bared to your intelligent eyes — he wants you to see him for what he is. Pathetic. Dirty. Perverted.

Wrong.

And he wants you to punish him for it.

He doesn’t know when he raised his hand, when he brought the balled up underwear in his hand to his face, but the first whiff of it is life-changing, earth-shattering, makes his world turn upside down and his eyes roll into back of his head, his back hitting the sheets as he shoves it against his nose so hard it almost hurts and inhales again.

It’s sweet. Tangy. A little sour, maybe, because you were probably wearing them all day. Maybe some sweat mixed in with the sweet slick from your pussy. The thought alone makes Minho’s hips jump off the bed pathetically, chasing the pressure of his own hand. He often wonders what your pussy looks like. He only saw the outline of it once, when you were wearing leggings, thoughtlessly leaning over the side of the sofa to grab your phone before you were heading out. Your ass, round and perfect, then, leading down, a little V. Two lips, and a little space in between, where the head of his cock could fit so prettily. He jacked off so often to the thought of filling that little space with his cum that his dick was chafed raw, and he could barely meet your eyes. But no matter what he imagines it to look like, he knows it wouldn’t matter to him – it would be as gorgeous as you are, no doubt, wet and glistening and hot, and he’d worship it, if he was just given the chance.

He takes a ragged breath, chest rising in barely controllable tremors, and lets go of the panties, lets them drop on the pillow next to his bed, in favour of torturously slowly trailing his free hand over his clothed chest – the depraved, limitless part of himself already slipping into a place where he can imagine it’s your hand instead of his – until his fingers find the cool metal of the necklace around his neck.

You gave him this necklace, almost a year ago now, for his birthday. It’s a simple thing, a sturdy, a thick chain, shining, real silver, long enough to rest just between his collarbones, a decorative closure, a little thin stick that is threaded through a ring to hold it in place. And Minho knows that’s all it is – a present, a thing you picked out because you thought it would go well with his oversized shirts and thick hoodies, short enough to not get in the way too much when dancing, not expensive enough to be too precious to wear.

But to Minho, it’s so much more. To Minho, the necklace isn’t as much of a necklace. It’s a collar. He wears it not for a fashion statement, but out of a devotion to you that only he knows about. He wears it every day, barely takes it off, his skin itching when he has to, at airport security, a hysterical kind of calm settling back into his bones when it’s back around his neck. He touches it when he sees your name light up his phone screen, or when he thinks of you while he’s out with his friends. But most often, he pulls at it when he’s right here, on his bed, one hand wrapped around his cock, tugging until the metal cuts into the back of his neck and he can feel his devotion to you with every sting of pain.

The necklace snags against his skin and the pain singes a path through his body, a light tremor that runs from the tips of his toes all the way to the crown of his head, makes his cock pulse with the neglect.

He’s been hard for so long that his cock hurts, where it’s confined in his jeans, and he feels his control slipping so fast it’s almost scary. His hand trails an absentminded path down his stomach, until his fingertips graze the bulge in his jeans, thick and hot, just how you’d like it, and the thought of you, makes him burn. You wouldn’t want him to give in so quickly. You’d make him wait.

He squeezes his cock so hard it hurts – his back arching, cock spurting more precum into his boxers, a sob tearing out his throat.

Oh, Minho.

Your voice, molten caramel crawling up his chest, coiling around the skin of his throat, a moan around a piece of meat becoming something entirely else here in the safety of his room. He digs his nails into the jean material of his bulge. Chokes out a ragged breath.

A soft giggle. Nobody does it like you. You’ve ruined me for everyone else.

He whimpers, blindly, desperately fumbles around his pillows until he finds the delicate material of your underwear again. He crushes them against his face and takes a greedy inhale, and the battle with his self-control is lost. His back arches off the bed again, his hand grinds down on his cock and the friction kicks him into motion.

He shoves his clothes off frantically, sits up only enough to rip his shirt and hoodie over his head at the same time, before flopping back down into the pillows. He drags a heavy, burning hand down until he can pop the button of his tight, tight, way too tight jeans, shucks them down, off, kicks them off the bed and then he’s finally naked.

He falls back. He’s exposed, body twitching and hot, every nerve ending on fire, just lying there on his bed, in the dark. The room is quiet except for his heaving chest. On the street, a car is passing. Minho shivers, whimpers into the darkness. He aches.

The cool air of the room makes goosebumps break out all over his body, but he doesn’t move to cover himself up. He lets them make another full-body tremor rack through him. His cock is heavy and hot and wet against his lower stomach, and he parts is legs, exposes himself further to the emptiness of his room, imagines it’s you he’s exposing himself to.

He shoves your underwear back to his nose and smoothes his hand down over his chest, first his palm, then the tip of his finger brushing over his sensitive nipple. The moan he lets out is dampened by the cotton, but the room is dead silent, and it slices through the darkness. It’s so loud, so needy, entirely humiliating. It’s perfect. He moans again.

His chest is sensitive, always has been. He came just from playing with it, once, cock entirely untouched, only his fingers brushing over his nipples until he nearly screamed with sensitivity. He wonders if you’d like it, that he’s sensitive. If you’d touch him there softly, brushing your fingers over him until he goes insane with pleasure. Or if you’d be mean, if you’d pinch them and twist them, laugh at him when he cries. His hand drags down his belly when he imagines your lips around his nipple, calling him your sweet, sensitive boy.

His hand curls around his cock when the you in his head bites his nipple and laughs at him. The pleasure of his hand finally curling around himself rockets pleasure through him and his cock spurts so much precum he thinks for a second that he already came – though when he pumps himself once, the hot, heavy weight of arousal in his guts tells him he hasn’t.

Already made such a mess, you purr, what are we going to do with such a needy little boy?

Minho sniffles into the silence of the room. And he is a mess already, his stomach covered in rapidly, uncomfortably cooling precum, the hand on his cock sliding with how wet it already is. It’s humiliating. He wishes you could see. Fuck, he wishes you were here.

What is heartache but a different kind of pain. He somehow manages to rip his hand from his cock, fisting it into the sheets, relishing in the way his whole body shakes, his knees knock together, try to create friction, and he howls into the room.

It’s like you’re a spectre. He can almost feel the weight of your body when he imagines you crawling over him, straddling his waist, can imagine it’s the plush of your ass when he pushes his cock up from his abdomen with his hands.Blindly, he scrambles for one of his

pillows, let’s go off the panties, only for long enough to fold the pillow in half and wrap it around his cock. The softness, the coolness of the material, they’re a relief on his burning, aching skin. He can’t help but think that this is what it would be like to touch you. Cool fingers, soothing the way his body burns. A salve on the open wound that is his desire for you.

A first tear rolls down his cheek, and he grinds his hips up and oh god he isn’t gonna last, he isn’t gonna last at all.

The wetness seeps into the pillows, and it’s slightly uncomfortable, only makes him sob with how much better he knows you’d feel. You, sitting on his cock, pussy snugly wrapped around him. He imagines the lips of them, rubbing against his shaft with every lift of your hips. The button of your clit, wet, glistening, red, little, and needy for his touch. The cream of you coating his cock. Spit pools in his mouth. He grips the pillow in one hand, brings the other back to his face so he can shove your underwear against his nose, and lets go.

It’s pathetic, so fucking pathetic, the way he starts humping the pillow, the way his back arches and his mattress squeaks with every thrust into the softness that doesn’t quite squeeze him the way he wants to be squeezed, sucked into your warm body, milked until he’s breeding you full of his cum.

He half screams, half sobs, his release so close he can almost taste it, when his heel slips on his sheets, makes his cock slip out of the pillow and his hips lose their rhythm. It’s devastating. His body screams for more, for friction, heat, a hole to sink his cock into. He inhales, feels the tart sweetness of your scent cover his tastebuds and somehow, he manages to flip himself over. The pillow is still below his hips, but the fold of it is long forgotten, his cock now just trapped between it and his abdomen.

He falls forward onto his elbow, black lace still clutched against his face, and he grinds his cock down hard.

The friction is so good, so much better than on his back, and he loses the last dregs of his dignity/ With his face buried in your underwear, his back hunched, he allows his hips to do what they need to, to chase the friction, no matter how fast and hard and uncoordinated, desperate whimpers torn from his lips with every drag of cotton against the sensitive head of his cock.

There are no scenarios playing in his head, any more, no words he wishes you were saying, only the heavy, unignorable sense, the presence of you that haunts him day and night, and the brutal, cold hard truth of him, in his dark room, furiously humping his pillow with your dirty underwear pressed to his nose, every inhale a desperate gasp, every exhale a pathetic moan.

His arm gives out, and he falls forwards into the sheets, panting desperately, his face buried in your panties, his free hand snaking between his legs, wrapping around his cock in a tight fist, the other reaching behind his head, taking a hold of the necklace and pulling, until he can feel it constrict his airways.

He comes two seconds later. With his face buried in your panties, his hand still wrapped around the necklace, his lungs fighting for air, every shaky inhale sending more of your smell through his system, he crashes over the edge with such an intensity that his vision whites out for a second. Distantly, he hears himself scream into his sheets, toes curling, body locking up as he spills, hot and wet, all over his hand, his pillow, his abdomen. And he keeps cumming, his cock spurting wetness all over himself until he seriously wonders if he’s peeing himself, and also if he’s about to pass out, until he realises he’s still holding the necklace in a vice grip. He lets go.

He rears up, gasps for air, gulps it down, his hand helplessly falling into the sheets, his sensitive cock still dripping, every brush of it against the pillow underneath him making little jolts run through his body.

And it takes him a good few minutes to come down, his consciousness floating somewhere five feet above his head. His lucidity comes back to him slowly, but still too painfully fast.

The first thing that becomes awfully clear is his posture. His body, hunched over the pillow that’s still bunched between his thighs, absolutely drenched in his cum. His chest, still heaving slightly, pressed into the sheets.

Then, he realises his face is still smushed into your panties. They’re right underneath his face, on his pillow.

Oh, and he’s drooling. Fuck.

He tries to get himself upright, but his arm nearly gives out, then his leg does, and he tumbles onto his side, cursing in pain when he tries to straighten his leg and a dull ache shoots through his body. He reaches down, past his wet, sticky abdomen, tries to massage feeling back into his calves, and he waits. He waits patiently for what he knows is the next step of the all too familiar process of coming down from one of his manic jerk-off sessions. The shame.

But before it can kick in, his phone rings. But it’s not his normal ringtone. No, it’s the one he set for you. You’re calling. The thought hits him like it’s the bell, and he’s pavlov’s dog.

He scrambles out of bed, his legs still aching and half asleep, and he almost faceplants straight into the floor, catches himself, and crawls over to where his phone is vibrating in the pockets of his jeans.

He rips it out of his pocket, hits accept, and lets himself thunk back onto the floor with a groan.

There’s silence on the other side of the phone. But he can hear you breathing. Steadily, in, out, in, out.

He’s cold. Shivering. The comedown is hitting him.

Finally, you speak.

“Something of mine has gone missing …”

The tone of your voice, the quiet, knowing rasp, makes Minho gasp out a desperate moan, so loud there’s no doubt in his mind that you heard. The knowledge makes his oversensitive body tremor.

“And if you’re a good boy and tell me where it’s gone, I won’t have to punish you.”

link to part 2

skzms masterlist // ko-fi

🔖 general taglist: follow and turn on notifications for my library account: @skzms-library 🔞 I monitor ages over there, just like I used to do with my taglist. I will block minors and ageless blogs, and you'll have to message me again to get unblocked. so just have your age in your bio before you follow!

[foldingfittedsheets]

I am a little creature largely made up of anxieties. There have been times in my life when it was worse. It’s currently significantly better. This story takes place at a time when it was pretty bad.

Food was a prison for me. I moved out early with very little idea of how to feed or care for myself. Every meal was a question mark. For three years I had Brendan doing most of the cooking but when things ended between us I moved in with some other friends. I suddenly had no way to feed myself again.

I was working at the sex shop and living with all my coworkers; a premise that would make sitcom writers weep. In that house, at the age of 24, I learned how to fry an egg. It was the only thing I knew how to do but by god, I mastered egg frying. I was so proud. I could now have one stress free meal a day of an egg on toast.

The problem was my roommates. Living with three other people is already tough but messes pile up alarmingly fast, especially in the kitchen. No one sees the whole mess as their responsibility but the one person who’s responsibility it absolutely wasn’t was mine, as I only ever cooked eggs. Glaciers moved quicker than the dishes got done, mountains of greasy unwashed dish ware were fixtures across the counters.

My friends occasionally cooked for me and each time I happily cleaned all the resulting dishes. This seemed fair.

But on my own I only used three implements for my egg. When I finished with my spatula, pan, and plate, I carefully washed them and set them to dry. Every time I came back to the kitchen there was nothing clean.

Crusted on ketchup, dried food, and unsavory residues plagued everything I needed to touch. So I ended up doing all the dishes twice, once to use my three implements and again once I was done.

I started to realize I’d come home, see the filthy pile of dishes, then go to bed without eating because I didn’t have the energy to wash it all. So I finally addressed my roommates about it. Please, I beseeched them, can these three things always be clean. I cannot function like this, and eating is already hard for me.

The answer returned: no. My request was deemed unreasonable and a counteroffer was made to turn off the small space heater I ran in my room in exchange for them magnanimously cleaning up after themselves. I declined, as my bones ached with cold everywhere except my room since no one else wanted the heat on. The impasse continued. I went to be hungry.

I noodled on it. I schemed. I plotted. And on my day off I went to a thrift shop and acquired a nice little pan and spatula. I squirreled them away into my closet. The plan was just to wash and dry it after meals and keep it in my room.

This is not how it went down. On day one of my pan coming home one of my roommates popped into my room to chat, glanced into my three quarters shut closet and immediately said, “What is that?”

I sighed and admitted my plan. All three roommates roundly condemned my plan as extremely passive aggressive. I tried once again to explain that I wasn’t eating, but my secret pan was now a source of contention, a precious resource held back from the collective.

Their discontent reached a fever pitch and I finally declared, “Fine! I will put my pan in the kitchen. On one condition. If I ever find this pan dirty, ever, I will scrape whatever is left on it into your bedding. I swear to god, if I ever come home to it being dirty there will be a reckoning.”

Terms were agreed.

The first month or two went okay. On the third month I awoke to eat breakfast and found my precious pan sullied. I grabbed it and marched upstairs. Betty was named as the culprit. I strode into Betty’s room and stood over her sleeping form like the vengeful ghost of dishes past.

“If you don’t get up and clean this right now I’m going to dump it on your bed.”

Betty groggily regarded me. “Seriously?”

“I have never been more serious.”

“It’s one time, can’t you just clean it yourself?”

“No. You promised.”

With much huffing and grousing Betty arose from bed and tromped downstairs, hastily cleaning my pan while I watched. “Happy?” She demanded.

I was. I made my egg, cheerfully cleaning the pan afterward, leaving it to dry.

[glitterypinkconverse]

─ ⊹ ⊱ IN THE HEAT OF IT ALL

e-42!miles x fem!reader

summary after having an argument with miles, you get mad as to why he always brings up your plushies while you guys are arguing. so, you threw them all away.

request by @friedturtlewhispers ! i accidentally posted this without writing actual story, so sorry your request got deleted 😭

a/n this is a continuation of the 42!miles headcanon from these headcanons! i’m a sucker for angst so ofc i has to write this 🤷‍♀️

warnings angst to fluff, cursing

“Ma, you’re the one who sleeps with stuffed animals at night.”

You two have been fighting over God knows what for at least 30 minutes, and whenever he brought up the fact that you sleep with stuffed animals at night pisses you off. You scoffed, stuck your middle finger up at him, and went to his doorway.

“Fuck you, Miles.” That was all you said before you walked out of his bedroom, and out his apartment door.

New York at night was chilly, so as you left the building you silently cursed to yourself. You forgot your jacket again, as it was hot during the day but then it cooled down. Luckily, your apartment building was only a block away, so it wasn’t that bad of a walk.

His words still rang through your head. That was his only comeback nowadays ever since he found out. You thought he hated it, for how much he teased you about sleeping with the stuffed animals. But secretly, though he would never admit it, he found it cute that you do. It made him happy seeing you happy, although you weren’t feeling it right now.

You thought actually sleeping with them bothered him, so as your mind was overflowing with rage, you did the petty thing.

You threw them all away.

Well, not really. You just stuffed them all in a bag and put it in your closet. But, it felt like you did because your once overfilled bed was now empty, the only thing on it was your clothes, pillows, and obvious blankets.

Your phone was blowing from texts and calls from Miles. You looked over at it and rolled your eyes. You put your phone on do not disturb, charged it, and then got in bed. All you needed right now was some rest, so you closed your eyes and tried to fall asleep. Though, it was hard without at least one thing to hold.

Miles on the other hand, was freaking out. He was pacing around his room angrily, you guys never ended on bad terms. You would always make up, because he knew how important it was for you to have closure. He wanted to make this relationship work, and right now he felt like he was failing it.

“Pick up the phone, Y/N,” he mumbled, silently cursing everytime it went straight to voicemail. He groaned and left his room, saying a quick goodbye to his mom before leaving the apartment.

He walked, practically ran to your apartment where he barged in because you forgot to lock the door. Your parents were out on a work trip right now, so he reminded himself to scold you later on this. But for now, his only priority was to set things right and make it up to you.

He slowly opened your bedroom door, from the light being off he figured you were asleep. That was all until you turned around to look at the light that was entering your room, and groaned when you saw Miles standing in your doorway. “Fuck off.”

He scoffed and made his way towards you, “That’s no way to talk to me, now is it?” He joked, though you weren’t having it.

“What the hell are you doing here, Miles.” You turned away from him, so he couldn’t see the anger that was still looming on your face.

“Whatchu think I’m here for? I’m here to make it up to you. We’re not leaving on bad terms, and I swear by that.”

You didn’t respond, and that left Miles quiet. He observed the position you were in, and noticed your bed looked different.

“Ma, where’s all your stuffed animals?” He asked, concern in his voice. He shuffled around your bed, looking over you and looking at the end of your bed.

“Gone,” you mumbled. He paused in his tracks, looking over at you even though you couldn’t see him. Your back was facing the wall, so he immediately turned you around to face him.

“Fuck you mean gone?”

“I mean, gone, Miles. Like, they’re not here.” He was shocked, you loved those things more than anything. He looked around your room, for any sign of them.

None.

“I’ll be right back,” he mumbled before hurrying out of the room. You rolled your eyes and turned around in your bed again, feeling slightly bad that you lied to him.

However, Miles was going to the nearest store to get you something. He walked down the aisles of the store, searching for the perfect plushie. He grimaced at all of them, as they all looked unintentionally creepy. He decided on a pink teddy bear, as it looked the most tame and he knew how much you liked teddy bears. He went up to the register and paid for it, then rushed back to your apartment.

You were almost asleep when he barged in once again and sat on your bed. “Turn around.” When you didn’t, he turned you around himself and what you saw in his hands shocked you.

You sat up to face him, you didn’t expect him to buy you a teddy bear. You took it from his hands, admiring it slightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Y’know, I actually find it cute how you sleep with these.” You looked up at him and smiled, then fell into his arms.

“It’s alright, I guess. Thanks for the bear,” he hummed in response, to which you continued, “there’s a bag in my closet, do you think you can get it?” He pulled away slightly and raised an eyebrow at you, watching as you giggled against his chest.

He peeled away from you and walked to your closet, silently cursing when he saw the bag full of stuffed animals. “You’re full of shit, y’know that right?”

You laughed as he threw the bag at you, you throwing one of your pillows back at him in response. “You loooove me though.”

He walked back to your bed and put the pillow you threw at him back on the bed, and laid down with you. “You got one thing right,” he said as you adjusted in his arms.

“Oh, and also, don’t forget to lock your door. Can’t let anyone taking m’ girl away.”

“Go to sleep, Miles.”

TAGS ↣ @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

[okaylikeschaewon]

KAMPFyre: Part 3 - Future

~6.5k words, final part to this trilogy (more info in A/N at end), smut

“Where’s your phone?”

Responding was barely a possibility for you as you gasped for air, your chest heaving up and down as you lay on the couch. Without saying anything, you motioned generally towards your pants which were haphazardly thrown across the room in a mess on the floor.

“Code?”

“That’s… a secret…” you huffed, slowly regaining your breath.

Karina walked across the room and held your phone up to your face.

“Hey, that’s cheating,” you whined while making no effort to stop her.

She ignored you and started typing into your phone.

“You don’t have a girlfriend do you?” she asked, pausing and looking up from the screen.

“I feel like that’s something you should have asked earlier,” you laughed as you slipped your shirt back on.

“Do you?” Karina snapped at you. “I’ll delete my number right now if you do.”

“No, really, I don’t,” you chuckled, reaching for your underwear.

Karina held your phone up for a second as you were about to put on your underwear before she started typing into it.

“Did you just take a picture of my dick with my phone?”

“Yeah, I needed to send myself a message,” Karina replied nonchalantly before holding your phone out to you. “Don’t worry, as long as you didn’t lie about the girlfriend thing, no one else will see it.”

“You didn’t actually send it, did you?” you pressed as you slipped your underwear on.

“Of course I did.”

“Delete it.”

“No,” Karina laughed in your face. “Here, since you’re being such a baby about it,” she added after seeing your expression. The girl held your phone up and posed for a selfie. “There you go, the picture you got is worth way more, trust me.”

“What am I supposed to do with your number?” you asked, catching your phone as Karina tossed it to you.

“Oh my God,” Karina paused, shirt in hand, staring at you with mouth agape. “Did I just fuck an idiot?”

“Ha ha very funny,” you rolled your eyes and gestured towards your pants. “You know what I mean.”

“Well,” Karina replied while picking up your pants and handing them to you. “Depending on how tonight goes, maybe I’ll reply when you text me.”

“Tonight?” you inquired, a bit too excitedly.

“Awh, look at you,” Karina teased, staring at your crotch, not missing any opportunity to give you shit. “You’ll have to wait until we’re back at the hotel, unfortunately I’m in a bit of a rush and don’t have time for another round.”

After you slipped your pants on, you patiently watched Karina dress herself. She checked herself with her phone’s camera, clearly unhappy with the state of her hair. Despite her frustration, she settled with pulling her hood up before walking over to where you were sitting. Without any warning, she straddled your lap and stretched the neck of your shirt over your shoulder.

“What the fuck!” you shouted, almost instinctively throwing her off you as she bit into your skin.

“Something to remember me by,” Karina giggled as she stood up. “We’ll continue this at the hotel,” she instructed you while walking towards the door.

Naturally, you began following her when she stopped and turned around.

“You can’t come with me you idiot,” Karina said, looking at you in disbelief. “I swear you’re as dumb as Winter.”

“Why not?”

“Obviously because if anyone sees us they’ll start dating rumors,” Karina tutted. “Especially if they see that mark I left you.”

“How am I supposed to know how this shit works?” you countered. “I’ve never had to deal with dating scandal bullshit.”

“And to keep it that way, you’re going to arrive separately,” Karina instructed in a sarcastic over-the-top sweet voice. “Neither of us wants to deal with that, trust me.”

As soon as Karina closed the door behind her, you pulled out your phone and were about to delete the text she sent. Your plan changed, however, when you opened your phone and were greeted with the selfie she took; It definitely came as a surprise to see the selfie included much more than her face.

—

“You didn’t tell me you were sharing a room,” you whispered as soon as you heard the sound of the shower running.

“Oh fucking relax, you’re very familiar with her already,” Karina entered the hallway and closed the door behind her. “After I’m done with you, maybe you can convince her that your magic nut will make her skin glow or something.”

“It’s Winter? Wait then why are we leaving?” you joked as you followed Karina down the hallway.

“Ex’ fucking ‘scuse me?” she stopped and turned on her heels, glaring at you. “Go.”

She glowered at you, arms crossed, daring you to push the joke further. Part of you considered it, but you decided against risking it. Not an easy choice, not when Karina looked so fucking sexy when she was mad - a great combination when paired with her very short temper.

“That’s what I thought,” she turned back around and continued walking.

“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” you said while catching up with her. “I don’t have the keycard.”

Without missing a beat, she reached into her pocket and pulled it out, tossing it on the floor as she kept walking. She definitely let out a smug chuckle after she heard you pick it up and keep following her; The rest of the walk was silent until the two of you arrived at your destination - the rooftop.

“Wow,” you muttered as soon as the doors opened. “This is gorgeous.”

In front of you was the most luxurious and magnificent rooftop pool to have ever blessed your eyes. The dark blue water was dimly lit from underneath. Around the pool were a number of lounge chairs, also dimly lit by lamps. The whole scene was overlooking the city below, creating the most surreal atmosphere.

“I assume you can swim?” Karina asked, looking over her shoulder as she stepped out of her pants. “Hello?”

While the rooftop and everything was beautiful, you were at an absolute loss for words as your eyes fixated on Karina. Your brain didn’t even register that she had just asked you a question, all you could do was stare at her perfectly shaped ass in the dim light. Karina giggled, shaking her head before slipping off her shirt and bra, tossing them to the side, giving you a view of her toned back. She took just two steps before jumping into the pool, disappearing under the water.

“Aren’t you worried about getting caught?” you asked as you walked up to the side of the pool. “Anyone could come up here.”

“That’s the point,” Karina replied, pushing her hair out of her face. “I woulda brought you into my room otherwise, but where’s the fun in that?”

“Oh I’m sure there would be a lot of fun in that,” you began stripping down. “Maybe when we’re done here we can confirm?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Karina scoffed. “Who says I’d want you in my room after?”

“Who says?” you repeated her words before pretending to hold up a phone. “What’s taking so long, I don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow, hurry up.”

“Oh shut up,” Karina laughed, splashing water at you before swimming to the middle of the pool. “Coming in or what?”

Of course you were, that wasn’t an offer to refuse. You quickly stripped down as well after taking a quick look around to make sure the roof was still empty before jumping into the pool - luckily it was heated, a marvelous blessing. You swam over to where Karina was playfully spinning around in the water.

“Are you always this wild?”

“That’s for you to find out,” she teased, moving her body closer to yours and turning around so that her back was facing you. “Don’t be shy now.”

Exactly the words you wanted to hear from this completely drop-dead gorgeous nude girl. You wrapped your arms around her body, under her arms, and grabbed two full handfuls of Karina’s beautiful tits. She leaned back against you, her ass pressing against your cock while you squished and squeezed her soft chest.

“You’re by far the hottest girl I’ve ever touched,” you whispered into her ear.

“Yeah? Tell me more,” she replied, pushing her ass back onto you.

“You also have the best tits I’ve ever held,” you breathed into her neck before kissing it.

“Careful,” Karina spun around so that she was facing you. “Can’t have you leaving any marks on me.”

“Like the one you gave me?”

She smirked as she placed her hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing where she bit you earlier.

“Does it hurt?” she teased, pressing down on the wound.

“Yeah it fucking hurts,” you answered while your hands grabbed her ass under the water and squeezed hard.

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” she smirked playfully. “Didn’t I make it worth it?”

“You’re still making it worth it,” you answered, giving her ass another rough squeeze.

“How about you stop treating me like a sex doll and tell me a bit about yourself,” Karina suggested, gently floating away from you.

“It’s tough when you look so much like one,” you teased back before moving your hands up from her ass, resting them on her hips instead. “Alright, what do you wanna know?”

“Anything,” she replied, her arms dangling on your shoulders now as she walked around the pool with you. “Other than your magical vocal cum, I really don’t know anything about you.”

“Well, I graduated last year, since then I’ve kinda just been trying to find a place for myself.”

“And you feel that place is working events?” Karina inquired.

“Nah, that was a part-time thing,” you replied. “Partially for the money, partially because I was bored.”

“How come you didn’t go into whatever you studied in college?” Karina continued. “Don’t tell me you have some useless arts degree or something.”

“For a singer, I figured you’d respect the arts a bit more.”

“Fair point,” Karina chuckled. “What was your major anyway?”

“Some bullshit in a field I’d never want to work in.”

Karina cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Not that I’m judging you for it, but then why…”

“Because I was lost coming out of highschool, didn’t know what I wanted to do.”

“I get that,” she said sympathetically. “It’s not an easy decision to make, especially at that age.”

“You say that, but didn’t you make your decision when you were way younger? It’s something I read when I was looking you guys up.”

“True, doesn’t mean it’s easy,” Karina continued. “Everyone goes through their own journey, I wouldn’t ever discredit that.”

“That’s quite the mature stance.”

“What, you don’t take me as mature?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.”

“I can’t tell if it’s the fact that we’re both naked,” you paused to look at her body. “But I feel some tension.”

“We’ll relieve all of that tension soon enough,” Karina smiled. “Tell me more about yourself, first. Relationships?”

“I told you I didn’t have a girlfriend,” you rolled your eyes.

“Stop being silly,” Karina giggled, flicking a few droplets of water onto your face. “Have you had any?”

“I ended my last one after my senior year,” you answered.

“Bad terms?”

“Not necessarily,” you replied. “She moved away, I wasn’t interested in long distance.”

“You weren’t interested in long distance or long distance with her?”

“I haven’t really thought about that before,” you pondered her question, it was an interesting one now that you had it in your mind. “Honestly, I want to say in general.”

Even in the dim light you noticed Karina’s face dropped just a tiny bit at that comment.

“But I’m not sure,” you continued. “I just haven’t done it before, so maybe with the right person?”

“It’s not easy, though,” Karina commented. “It usually doesn’t work out.”

“Maybe not, but I think for the right person it wouldn’t matter how difficult it is.”

“That’s a nice way to look at it,” Karina smiled at you.

“Who would have thought I’d be having a meaningful conversation in a setting like this tonight,” you chuckled. “You’re really just full of surprises.”

“Sometimes being vulnerable leads to good conversation,” Karina giggled. “So, what’s your next adventure?”

“I wish I knew myself,” you answered honestly. “I guess I’ll just see where life takes me.”

“Regardless of where you end up, I’m glad you decided to work the event tonight,” Karina again smiled warmly at you. “Somehow some way it led to where we are now.”

“Where we are now? You mean me having a bite mark on my shoulder?”

“Poor baby,” she mocked before pushing against your chest and swimming to the edge of the pool. She began climbing out, pausing with her ass facing you to look over her shoulder. “Come on, get your revenge then, I’m waiting.”

By the time you swam over, she had climbed out of the pool, standing there watching you as the night sky illuminated her bare body, hands on her hips. You climbed out of the pool and turned her around before slapping your palm against her ass, sending droplets of water flying in every direction.

“Oh yeah,” she cooed into the night sky. “Fucking punish me.”

“You done with your interview?”

“I guess so,” she responded. “Now let’s get to why you’re really here.”

The tonal shift of the night was music to your ears. She wanted it now, and that’s exactly what she’d get. You pushed her forward until she made contact with the railing at the edge of the roof, then you pushed some more until she was completely bent over.

It was the most beautiful sight. You dropped down to your knees and spread Karina’s ass cheeks apart before shoving your face into them. Your tongue made contact with her pussy, giving it a couple of deep licks before you slapped her ass and stood back up, grabbing your cock. Eating her out from behind was so tempting, but you knew you had to get on with it already.

“Come on, hurry up,” she gasped as soon as your cock rubbed against the entrance of her pussy, confirming what you already predicted. “Don’t make me bite you again.”

“You’re insatiable,” you moaned as your cock finally invaded her pussy.

“Fuck. Me.”

There was no easing into it, no point in taking it slow. Karina wanted your dick and she wanted it now. Really, it was your responsibility to deliver. You began thrusting into her pussy, spraying more water around as your skin slapped against her skin. Under your palms, her hips began shaking with each shove of your cock.

“Oh fuck yeah there we go,” she moaned. “Fuck me like your little whore.”

No matter how hard you slammed into Karina’s cheeks, the girl wanted more. It was absolutely overwhelming, this complete fuck-doll of a girl was absolutely breathtaking the way she took your dick. This girl left you esurient over her, forcing your body to try desperately to give her what she wanted - which was also exactly what you wanted.

“Harder,” she begged in desperation. “Fuck me harder.”

In an attempt to give the wanton girl what she wanted, you placed your hands on her shoulders, giving you better leverage. You started thrusting your hips even harder into her backside, each slap of skin on skin echoing into the night. Anyone with their window open would hear the wet smacking of your thighs into Karina’s ass.

Her pussy was gripping your cock hard, nearly cutting off circulation. She was incredibly tight, yet so easily fuckable. Not only did she manage to squeeze your cock hard with her pussy, she also gave you almost no resistance. Perhaps it felt this way because you were thrusting with all your strength - it didn’t fucking matter.

What mattered was Karina’s moans, her pussy around your cock, the warmth and wetness of her body combining with yours. Her pleasure became your pleasure. All the sexual tension between the two of you led up to this moment. Fucking her hard on this roof couldn’t be compared to anything else.

This was so much better than the post-show quickie from earlier. This time you had as long as you wanted. You could probably fuck Karina all night - she’d like that. Your body was the only thing holding you back, but even as you continuously plowed Karina’s soft body, you somehow found the strength to keep going as if stamina did not exist.

Your fingers squeezed her shoulders hard in an attempt to hold her steady. You couldn’t see them clearly, but even from behind you could see her massive tits flinging back and forth with each thrust. Her body was fucking perfect. Part of you wanted to reach around her and grab them again, but you weren’t capable of changing a thing right now. All you could do was keep the rhythmic thrusting of your hips going.

“I’m going to fucking cum!” she cried out, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the railing.

She deserved no reprieve, not that she wanted any. You knew exactly what she wanted, and you were going to keep giving it to her. In and out your cock went, destroying her pussy, pushing as deep as physically possible. Her body was starting to go limp, her legs starting to bed as she began depending on the railing to keep her upright.

Just as she was about to collapse, you let go of her shoulders and wrapped your arms around her body, holding her up for the final barrage of fucking. You drove as hard and fast as you could for what felt like minutes (but was probably just a few seconds) until a slurry of cuss words spilled out of Karina’s mouth in all of its orgasmic beauty.

Karina was practically sobbing as her body convulsed into a pile on the ground in front of you. She slipped one hand between her legs and began touching herself, her legs still squirming as her back arched towards the clouds above. With her free hand, she tried reaching up for your cock, missing entirely until you grabbed her wrist and guided her to your shaft.

“Fucking cum on me,” she panted, eyes still closed as she started jerking you off. “Wherever you want.”

Your cock was already itching to explode, and her repetitive ‘cum for me’ requests as she stroked your length had brought you as close to your own climax as possible. The possibilities quickly flashed before your eyes: cover her face, down her throat, on her tits, and anywhere else on that beautiful body of hers.

Ultimately, you didn’t even bother choosing, you simply enjoyed the sensation as Karina jerked you off. She opened her mouth, her eyes still closed at this point, and tried to feebly aim your cock towards it, but it was futile. As your cock began erupting, the initial massive spurts landed directly on her chest.

With any remaining consciousness you had left, you grabbed your cock and pushed it against Karina’s mouth until it entered her lips. She started sucking at your tip, letting the rest of your seed fill her mouth. The hand she had around your cock was now rubbing your cum all over her tits, leaving a glossy shine on her beautiful breasts. Her other hand was still working between her legs.

Once your cock had finally emptied itself, Karina opened up her eyes and looked straight up at you. With your tip still in her mouth, she began licking circles around it, coaxing out every last drop of cum until she was satisfied you were empty. Before letting go of your cock, she had already swallowed.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” you moaned, sliding down against the railing to sit next to her.

“I’m also covered in your cum,” she commented nonchalantly before turning to you. “Oh sorry, I thought we were sharing obvious truths.”

Both of you started giggling.

“Where the fuck have you been all my life,” you sighed, staring up at the sky.

“What matters is that I’m here now,” Karina replied, turning her head towards you.

“You’re right, there’s no point in us wasting any time,” you responded, reaching your hand over and sliding it between her legs.

“Now who’s insatiable,” she teased, spreading her legs to give you easier access while she reached her own hand towards your lap, grabbing your semi-erect cock. “Ooh, still sensitive are we?”

“Give me a moment,” you moaned as electric shocks shot up your spine at Karina’s touch.

“No,” she giggled as she continued to stroke your cock, making you squirm in her hand.

It was too much for your body. You grabbed her wrist and forced her away, and before she could protest you had already pushed her onto her back so that she was lying beneath you. With one hand on each of her tits, you slid your face down her body until you were right in front of her pussy.

Karina placed her hands on top of yours, squeezing your hands into her tits as soon as your lips touched her pussy. Her breaths started getting heavier as your tongue probed at her clit. By the time you pressed your mouth against her pussy, she was panting. You went from licking all around her pussy to shoving your tongue inside her, tasting her from inside. She let go of your hands and grabbed your hair, pressing your face deeper into her delicious pussy.

Your own hands slowly slid down her body, smearing the cum on her tits all over her. You moved your face back and shoved two fingers into her pussy, watching her writhe in pleasure for a moment before planting your lips on her clit, stimulating as much of her body as you could.

“Oh fuck- please- fuck-” Karina gasped, incapable of forming any coherent sentences. “I’m- fuck-”

With your free hand, you grabbed your cock and gave it a couple of strokes. It was rock hard and ready to go, but you waited until Karina’s body stopped squirming so violently - depriving her of this pleasure would be an unforgivable crime.

“You’re making me fucking cum,” Karina cried out, almost pulling the hair off your scalp. “I’m…”

She calmed down suddenly, the energy draining out of her. The only movements left were the deep breaths she took and the little jolts every time your fingers moved inside her. Slowly, you withdrew both fingers and sensually ran them up her body towards her mouth. She opened her lips just wide enough for you to put your fingers into her mouth, sucking on them with any remaining energy she had left.

After giving her a few moments to compose herself, you got up onto your knees and positioned yourself between Karina’s legs. Your cock was throbbing at this point, begging you to enter her pussy again. You gripped the base and slowly rubbed it up and down Karina’s pussy until she opened her eyes and stared at you. Just as you were about to push into her, she shook her head.

“Stop,” she mumbled before sitting up in front of you.

Karina pushed you back with her hand until you were sitting with your back against the railing. The sheer sexiness she was emitting as she crawled forward towards you, her massive tits hanging down in front of her as she bent over you, had your cock ready to erupt already - and she hadn’t even touched it yet.

She held her mouth over your shaft, eyes looking down, parting her lips enough to let a glob of spit fall down onto your tip. Then, in one single motion, she brought her mouth down to your cock and slowly lowered it until she had engulfed your entire shaft, spreading her saliva evenly across your cock.

“Oh my fucking God,” you gasped as her tongue gently toyed with your tip. “Karina…”

Slowly, she brought her lips back up and sat up straight in front of you. She stared directly into your eyes with the most lascivious gaze you have ever seen in your life as her hand grabbed your cock, giving it a single stroke before she straddled your body. She already had your cock trembling and she knew it.

With one hand guiding your cock, she slowly lowered herself onto you. Your body entered her seamlessly, reuniting with that divine feeling of Karina’s pussy. She lowered herself all the way, letting go of your cock and putting both of her hands on your shoulders. She went up and down a couple more times, painfully slowly.

Each time she moved her body, you were scared she’d send you right over the edge. You didn’t want this to end - not yet. In an attempt to draw it out as long as possible, you sat still, closing your eyes tight. Steadily, she began speeding up just a bit. As you got closer and closer, she moved quicker and quicker.

“I’m really fucking close,” you moaned. “You’re going to make me cum.”

“Let it happen,” she whispered before grabbing the back of your head and pressing it into her chest. “Cum in me.”

That was too much for you. As soon as you heard her words and felt her soft tits engulf your face, you knew it was over. You were seconds away from exploding, nothing could stop you now. Knowing this, you reached your arms around her body and grabbed her ass with each hand.

With Karina’s tits still pressed against your face, you started thrusting your hips upwards. Each thrust pressed her tits harder against your skin. It only lasted probably ten seconds before you began unloading. You had no more energy to do anything but hold onto Karina’s body, you held steady as your cock launched cum deep into her pussy.

Each spurt of cum felt like a bullet with the force it launched out with. There was a lot, more than you thought possible considering all the previous events of the night; Your cock felt like it was never going to stop. Burst after burst of your seed painted Karina’s insides, overflowing as some of the warm mess slid down your shaft as well. Eventually, your cock did manage to calm down.

“Holy fucking shit,” you moaned, letting go of Karina’s body slowly.

She leaned back, smiling proudly at you before slowly lifting herself up. A gush of your cum spilled out of her pussy immediately, landing all over your crotch.

“How was that?” she slurred before bending over and licking at your tip gently.

It almost made you want to cry with how sensitive your cock was right now, but at least Karina was being gentle for once.

“Fucking perfect,” you moaned.

Karina played with the mess of cum, using her pinky finger to scoop some into her mouth before she went back to playfully licking at your tip.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” she suggested after giving you a few moments to gather your strength. She stood up and held her hands out for you.

The two of you rinsed off using the outdoor showers by the pool before grabbing towels.

“It’s getting kinda chilly up here” you said hesitantly, hoping the night would last forever.

“Down to come to the room for a bit?” Karina asked, equally hesitantly. “I know it’s late-”

“Yes absolutely.”

Her bright smile could have put the moon to shame.

—

“Winter is probably asleep by now, so just come out to the balcony,” Karina whispered as she carefully closed the door behind you.

Sure enough, Winter was asleep on the bed. The shocker, however, was the fact that half of her body wasn’t covered by the sheets. In fact, it wasn’t covered by anything, apparently Winter liked sleeping nude. The two of you carefully stepped out onto the balcony, closing the door behind you.

“What a night,” Karina sighed, leaning against the railing.

“I know right,” you agreed, taking in the beautiful view before you. “Wherever we end up now, I’ll never forget this night,” you muttered, staring into the night sky.

Karina took a step closer to you and leaned her head against your shoulder.

“I still don’t quite understand how things happened like this, but I’m glad they did,” she whispered softly.

It was oddly intimate - not something you expected from an arrangement born out of pure lust, but it felt nice. You stood there silently, simply enjoying Karina’s company, almost forgetting about the more carnal activities of the night. Seeing Karina’s sentimental side really put into perspective how unorthodox everything was.

Not that it mattered, this would probably be the last time you’d ever talk to the girl let alone see her again. To think, this girl who you didn’t know existed this morning, was now making your chest thump as if you were about to lose a significant part of your life. It was just one night, but why did it feel like so much more? It’s not like this was your first one night stand with a girl.

“This sucks,” Karina mumbled quietly.

“Well shit, my bad, I’ll leave.”

“Oh shush,” Karina lifted her head off your shoulder and turned to face you, leaning on the railing with you.

The amount of pure melancholy in her eyes was not something you were prepared to see. Carefully, you used your thumbs to wipe under her eyes before any tears fell.

“A girl my age…” Karina explained. “I just… I love sex, but it fucking sucks not being able to do this back home.”

“I hope I’m not overstepping with this, but why exactly can’t you?” you probed gently. “I only mean that a girl as beautiful as you… it shouldn’t be very difficult?”

“Ever since I became an idol, I’ve essentially been banned from anything related to guys,” she sighed, her breath filled to the brim with sorrow. “I love it of course, don’t get me wrong, I just miss this one part of my life from before.”

“Again, risk of overstepping, but why-”

“Why’d I do all this with you?” Karina finished your sentence. “I don’t know, maybe it was just seeing your cock out when I walked in the room earlier, maybe it was because Winter mentioned that you had no idea who we were, or maybe I’m tired of not getting any action.”

“I… don’t really know what to say.”

“I guess I just trust you, can’t really explain it,” she continued softly. “Probably why I took that picture on your phone.”

“Yeah I was gonna ask about that actually.”

“It doesn’t really matter,” Karina laughed. “Even if you did post it somewhere, everyone would just think it’s fake.”

“I’m not going to post it.”

There was a moment’s pause between the two of you before Karina spoke up again.

“Come back with us.”

“What?” you couldn’t believe your ears. “What do you mean?”

“Quit your job and come to Korea with us.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” you chuckled. “As much as I wish I could just get up and move to Korea, I don’t know if I can.”

“How about you at least stay with us for the next week while we’re in the US?” Karina pleaded. “What’ll it take to make you quit your job?”

“Holy shit you’re being serious right now,” you responded. “I mean, working the event was a part-time job, this was my last night…”

“Great, so how about for just the next week you stay, and we’ll figure the rest out later.”

“Karina-”

“We’ll cover the costs, food, transport, whatever you need,” she continued. “Please?”

Before answering, you took a second to think about what to say.

“Are you sure this is what you actually want?” you asked cautiously. “We obviously just had a lot of fun tonight, but I don’t want that to influence you into doing something you’d regret.”

“Fuck’s sake, stop overthinking it,” Karina rolled her eyes at you. “Spend the next week sleeping with me, and if I get bored I’ll just kick you out.”

“When you put it like that, what’s there really to lose?” you laughed as her aggressive nature returned. “Alright, for one week your sweet ass belongs to me.”

“Belongs to you?” Karina’s head launched back as she burst out laughing. “That’s so cute coming from a glorified dildo.”

“Glorified dildo? I’ll take it.”

The two of you laughed together, simply enjoying each other’s company. The way her eyes, lit up by the scarce moonlight, shined through her squint. Those adorable upside down crescents were making your heartbeat just a little bit quicker. As the laughs subsided, she stared at you tenderly with a smile on her lips.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked suddenly.

After everything the two of you did tonight, one would assume this was an irrelevant question, but it was potentially the most attractive thing she did all night. You didn’t even answer her with words; Without a second thought, you stepped right in front of her and grabbed her face with both hands before tilting your head sideways and pushing your lips to hers.

She kissed you back, her arms wrapping around your back, pushing you closer to her. Her lips, so plump and full, felt absolutely perfect. The kiss felt perfect. She felt perfect. The sun could have come up for all you cared, nothing would make you want to end this moment - that was until you heard the door open behind you.

“I heard laughing,” a groggy voice came through the curtains.

Karina immediately stepped back from you as both of you turned to see Winter step onto the balcony, rubbing her eyes with her hands.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you,” Karina pulled her into a hug, patting her back. “Let’s go inside, you’re not dressed to be on the balcony.”

It was very true, the girl who would sleep nude only bothered putting on a shirt before coming out to the balcony. You followed the two of them into the room where Winter slipped back into her bed and Karina sat next to her.

“So is someone going to explain what’s going on?” Winter asked, still in her groggy state.

“We were just chatting,” Karina started.

“About what?” Winter pressed before turning to look at you. “Oh also, hello! It’s nice to see you again.”

“Hey, likewise!” you responded warmly, waiting for Karina to take the lead.

“I was thinking,” Karina continued. “If you really felt like your arrangement with him worked, why don’t we keep him around until we have to go back home?”

“Do you really believe me now?” Winter asked Karina excitedly.

“I… do…” Karina faked a smile back.

Winter jumped up and pulled Karina into a hug, letting the bed sheets fall off her, revealing her bare ass to you.

“Thank you thank you thank you for this!” Winter cheered, any sleepiness from a moment ago completely absent. “This is an amazing idea!” Winter let go of Karina and turned around to face you, sitting on her knees on the bed. “And thank you for doing this for us!”

“Us?” Karina interjected.

“Yeah, you’re also going to keep swallowing loads, right?” Winter asked innocently.

“Of course she is,” you answered before she could say anything. “In fact, Karina was telling me something about it making your skin glow.”

“Really?” Winter gasped, covering her mouth. “I’d love to try that.”

She really made it too easy.

“How about tomorrow?” you suggested. “That way the two of you can rest up, it’s pretty late after all.”

“Great idea,” Karina replied from behind Winter’s back, shaking her head at your ridiculous plan. “I guess you might as well spend the night, like you said, it’s pretty late.”

—

Your brain turned on before your body. At this moment, nothing could get you to open your eyes and get out of bed, especially after that phenomenal dream. Maybe laying in the soft sheets would let you relive it some more, experience that vivid sensation of fucking this mystery girl named Karina. You let yourself relish in the state of bliss for just a bit longer before opening your eyes.

That’s when it hit you - it wasn’t a dream. In the next bed lay Winter, peacefully exhaling through her nose. You got out of the bed and then the next segment of reality hit you - you were incredibly sore.

“Fuck,” you whispered quietly to avoid waking Winter as you clutched your abs.

Once you stood up, you stretched as far as you could, reaching towards the roof. The curtain was left mostly open, letting in the morning sun. You walked over to close it, not wanting to disturb the peaceful girl sleeping. As you started walking towards the bathroom, curiosity got the best of you and you took a little detour to walk next to Winter’s bed.

Carefully, to make sure she didn’t wake up, you lifted the sheets and took a peek under them. Just as you thought, she was wearing nothing but a shirt. You gently put the sheets back as the reality was really starting to set in; Everything that happened last night was real.

After using the bathroom, you stood in front of the sink and splashed your face with water a couple of times to help wake you up. That’s when the next question hit you - Where was Karina? Maybe that part wasn’t real? Then you remembered something, you stretched the neck of your shirt over your shoulder and sure enough there it was, the bite mark she left. You let out a sigh of relief as you realized everything was real.

Your calmness didn’t last long as someone started slamming on the door.

“Are you almost done? I need to pee!”

“Sorry, go ahead,” you opened the door to see Winter standing there

She ran in and didn’t even bother closing the door. You quickly stepped out of the bathroom, giving her privacy. Once she was done, she came out into the room and stood in front of you.

“Can we try the skin thing now?” Winter asked innocently, not caring that she was still wearing nothing but a shirt.

“Skin… oh right, that.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Oh, um, of course we can,” you replied. “Do you know where Karina went by the way?”

Almost as if she was waiting for you to ask, there was a knock on the door.

“I got it,” you quickly stopped Winter from answering it, gesturing downwards.

“Oh, right,” Winter giggled. “Let me put on some clothes.”

“You still have my keycard,” Karina announced as soon as you let her in. “I ordered breakfast.”

“You know you could have just called them,” you said.

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” Karina replied, her cheeks tinted slightly pink.

“Oh.”

There was a moment of silence in the room before Winter broke it.

“Is there something going on here?”

“Nothing like that,” Karina answered immediately.

“Okay, good,” Winter said cheerily as she jumped onto her bed. “I, for one, am very excited for my upcoming vocal lessons.”

“And a new skincare routine,” you added.

“Skincare routine,” Karina repeated quietly so only you could hear, shaking her head. “I can’t believe my life right now.”

“Get used to it, you’ve committed to a week,” you whispered back to her.

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

---

A/N:

There we go, since the last part had such a phenomenal reaction and because I've really been wanting to write Karina, the not-very-long awaited sequel is here. As I mentioned above, this is the final part to this trilogy. HOWEVER, I'm not opposed to continuing this story in another fashion, perhaps a small time skip leading into another trilogy. I'll have to think about what exactly I want to do, but I have a strong feeling this won't be the last time I write this version of Aespa.

Hope you guys enjoyed, I wouldn't expect another update from me any time soon. I'm still working on my Dating Seraphs series, this was just a small yet fun detour, but I have no idea when the next update will be for it. Huge thanks to everyone who left a kind comment or message or simply just read and enjoyed the last part, it really helped inspire my "return" to writing!

[augustinewrites]

the dull throb resonating over your entire body is what eventually rouses you, slowly bringing you back into consciousness. your head feels like a sword’s been driven through it, leaving your mind muddled.

the first thing you see is satoru hunched over your bedside, his hand carefully clutching yours. you call his name, but your voice is hoarse and scratchy and barely above a whisper.

he hears you regardless, eyes wide and alert as he lifts his head. he looks tired, dark circles stamped under his eyes and an unusual stiffness in his movements.

“you’re…okay,” he says, strained. as if he can’t believe it. you hum in response - because it’s all you can manage at the moment - feeling your eyelids begin to droop your will. “get some more rest. i’ll call shoko.” 

the gentle brush of his lips against your forehead is the last thing you feel before drifting back to sleep.

_____

you’re not sure how much time has passed when you come to. now, the room is illuminated by honeyed lamplight and you see shoko and satoru talking quietly at the foot of your bed. 

“glad to see you’re still with us,” your best friend smiles once she notices you’re awake. she moves to your side, leaning over you to pull back the thin blanket. there’s a swathe of bandages wrapped around your shoulder and a sling immobilizing your arm. 

“how do you feel?” satoru asks, that worried look still set in his expression. 

“i‘m fine,” you manage to answer, trying to blink the room into focus.

“you need to be more careful,” shoko tells you, peeling her gloves off and tossing them into the trash. the usual air indifference in her voice is gone, replaced with concern. “take satoru with you next time. not because i think you’re incapable of doing your job, but so he can do the corny, heroic thing and take the hit for you. god knows he could stand to be humbled every once in a while…” 

“thanks, shoko,” your boyfriend scoffs, but the way his hand grips yours tightly tells you he’d be more than willing to be your corny hero. 

you hate the way they look down at your prone form as shoko goes over your treatment plan. it makes you feel small and weak, and you are neither of those things. 

“can you help me sit up?”

“you shouldn’t be moving around–” 

your body burns with protest as you awkwardly push yourself up anyway, exhaling a pained hiss as gojo swears, reaching out to help steady your trembling torso as shoko shoves pillows behind your back. 

“i’m fine,” you argue, trying to ignore the throbbing behind your temples. you don’t remember exactly how you’d ended up in the school’s infirmary, just remember the way pain had exploded across your left side when you’d been hit.  

“you almost weren’t,” he says quietly. a deeply haunted look clouds his face as he recalls what must have happened after you’d been brought in, and you feel guilty for not being able to remember it. 

so you let him squeeze into bed next to you, let him carefully pull you into his chest and hold you until you feel the tension in his body dissipate. you know he needs this a little more than you do, know that the knowledge of you being okay isn’t enough. it won’t stop the fear and anxiety of losing you from gnawing on the edge of his sanity.

“i wanna give the flowers–”

“so you can take all the credit? i’m the one who bought them!”

your pained grimace easily turns to a smile when the door opens to reveal megumi and tsumiki, who are both gripping a bouquet of flowers. nanami follows them in, wearing the tired look of a man that’s never spent more than three hours dealing with moody preteens raised by gojo – until today.

_____

your family spoils you over the next few days. the three of them falling asleep on the little couch in your room, tucked under gojo’s arms every night until you’re cleared to go home. even then, they don’t leave your side. tsumiki snuggles next to you to watch movies and bakes you little treats. megumi reads to you from the book you’d been going through together and listens to your favourite records with you after school. 

satoru posts himself by your side. you like having him around. like the gentle way he handles you when working through the stretches shoko prescribes. like watching the way his hands move he diligently slices wedges of fresh fruit. 

you like being the focus of his single-minded attention, but you know how restless he can get when he doesn’t go off to work. rightfully so, because the jujutsu world would probably fall apart without him.

“you can go if you want,” you say one day, when he gets off a phone call with yaga. “i’ll be okay for a few hours.” 

he doesn’t get up, instead beginning to peel a plump orange (you’d never noticed how nice his hands were until now). “no, nanami’s still covering for me.” 

“satoru,” you sigh, taking an orange slice from him. “there’s a lot going on, you have bigger fish to fry.”

“i’m not going anywhere,” he tells you firmly, looking like he’d physically fight the idea of leaving your side. “you’re my fish.”

[togament]

𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄.

sakura, ume, suo, kaji, kiryu, endo, togame.

"ever imagined how it'd be like to be in the mood with them but damn it. You're separated by distance? Mhm. I got just the thing for you."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: PHONE SEGGS UH OH!, language language swearing swearing, AFAB!reader, ume switchy :o, endo's a fucking menace :((((, TOGAMMMMEEEEEEE *howls!!!!! barks foaming at the mouth*, toy usage, your man straight up “jorking it” and by it haha well lets justr say his peanits, degradation on endo's part--general seggsy time stuff and needy boyfriends, NSFW STUFF MINORS DON’T INTERACT PLS.

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.

✦ gotta guide him through it. At first, he didn’t really see the appeal of it. Why do it over the phone when you could meet up instead. ✦ but OH once he’s in the zone though, ONCE HE UNDERSTANDS? SEES THE LIGHT????? I’m wishing your pussy good luck because you’re doing it often. ✦ your phone rings sometimes at 2 am and you’re met with a panting Sakura. He sounds so apologetic too — he’s fought against calling you and just handling it himself. But he couldn’t help it. He has to call you. To hear you. ✦ “Strokin’ my cock right now. F-fuck m’sorry but can ya touch yourself for me too? Couldn’t get ya outta my head and I—ngh.. Need t’cum. Please, baby. It’ll be quick. Promise.” ✦ narrator’s voice: it was in fact, not quick at all. ✦ he likes sending over voicemails at night when he knows you're alone, when he's needy (which is often). ✦ it's mostly just of him panting into the receiver, recalling the events of the day and how each thing you did turned him on. You often end up sending each other voicemails to quench the thirst but god damn it. That doesn't come close to fucking.

𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀.

✦ another one of the ":o I don't see the appeal of phone sex when we could just see each other instead?" gang. He sees the vision real quick when you dropped something while you were talking though. You bent down to pick it up and let out a soft grunt. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering. ✦ BIG ON PRAISE. GRUNTS AND SIGHS INTO THE RECIEVER LIKE HIS LIFE DEPENDS ON IT. LOVES DOING IT WHILE HE'S LAYING DOWN, PANTS HURRIEDLY UNBUCKLED AND MESSY, SHIRT HAPHAZARDLY THROWN TO THE SIDE. PHONE WEDGED IN BETWEEN HIS CHEEK AND SHOULDER WHILE HE STARTS STROKING WITH ONE HAND AND THE OTHER TANGLED IN HIS HAIR, GRIPPING IT LIKE YOU WOULD--(gets dragged off stage kicking and screaming) ✦ big switch. He's Umemiya, after all. He's the feared and respected leader of the Bofurin for a damn reason. Very sweet when he's just in the mood on a random day, chuckling in between because that's just how the both of you are. It's fun! But when he hasn't seen you for a couple of days? Oh FUCK. When his voice would normally grow soft and whiney, has morphed into growled responses with him fucking his fist desperately, trying to remember how your cunt would swallow him whole. ✦ "G-Good girl, my good fuckin' girl. Filling your pussy up with that dildo you bought? Not good enough, huh?" he adds, grunting as he's imagining you fucking yourself with the dildo, panting and unsatisfied, knowing full well you need him filling you up instead. "I really miss you, babe. You'd look so pretty-gh-! Underneath me right now. So pretty." ✦ cums hard every time you're on call, grunting and wheezing out your name so desperately you almost feel like he's trying to summon you somehow. ✦ Thanks you for it too. It's cute!!! Ends with both of you cleaning yourselves up, still on call. You both often fall asleep together with your phones still on.

𝐒𝐔𝐎.

✦ you both call often. He just loves hearing your voice! Thing is, you never know when he's in the mood. But he somehow can tell whenever you are. What gave it away? Was it the way your breathing stilled when he let out a sigh when he stretched? Was it the way you tripped over your words when he lowered his voice just a tad? Was it when you were left speechless when he praised you for finishing a task you were putting off? Was his teasing working on you? Whoopsies. ✦ INSTRUCTIONAL WITH IT. He’s so good at directing you what to do. ✦ “Want you to imagine my fingers, dove. Why don’t you ease just two in for me? That’s my girl. Now curl them up a little. Keep your mind on me." ✦ you want him to feel good too :(((((( so you ask for him to do the same as you. Of course, he lets you beg a little first. Little did you know he was already fucking his fist before you even started. ✦ has one of your clothes or panties close by because he loves smelling them. He loves your scent. It helps him get off. Hell, he gets horny in public when he takes a whiff of your perfume. ✦ he gets more vocal when he cums and that’s when you KNOW for sure he’s jacking off while listening to you. String of expletives and grunts escape his lips while he spills onto his hand, dribbling down his knuckles while you’re riding out your high.

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓.

𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈.

✦ FILTHY. FILTHY. FILTHY. ✦ doesn't have much toys but he has a tenga flip and uses it whenever he calls you. Can’t just go full hand and lube. (Probably has a warmer for it too. Mhm. Yeah.) ✦ another "clothes stealer". Has stolen your panties and shirts a couple of times. ✦ you can hear the wet squelching through the phone whenever he thrusts. Whether it’s lube or his cum, you could never ever tell. ✦ AGAIN, FILTHY. SO SO SO SO FILTHY. ✦ “y’getting off to this, huh? Listening to me fuck my toy? Fuckin’ know you’re soaking wet for me now. Lemme hear it. Lemme hear my pussy.” ✦ “keep up with me. Don’t you fuckin’ cum until I say so.” He barks, but he ends up cumming before you. He’s still pumping his sensitive cock waaay after he’s released though. He wants to hear you fall apart. ✦ bites back his whimpers but when he cums? Jesus. He’s stuttering out your name, repeating it like a damn prayer.

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔.

✦ HAS SO MUCH TOYS HOLY FUCK. ✦ he sends over photos of them before he calls, wanting you (yes YOU, dear reader!) to pick the toy of the night!!! ✦ he’d much prefer doing your mutual masturbation over facetime but you suggested a voice call. Who is he to deny his princess? ✦ always opens with a syrupy sweet, “How’s my baby?” and eases you into it with him. He never starts without you or without your express approval. If you’re suddenly not in the mood, he gets it. It happens sometimes. You guys could just talk instead. ✦ praise praise praise. Whispers the raunchiest and sweetest things to you. Talks you through it, guides you. HE’S WAY TOO GOOD. ✦ “Need my pretty princess right now. Need ya to sit on my face—taste so good. Fuck… Your pretty little moans too. I’m addicted.” ✦ “Remember when I did that thing you liked with my tongue? Yeah? Want you to do that on your clit with your fingers. Circle around it f’me, princess. Mhm.. Oh? Not good enough? Need my piercing on it? Naughty.” ✦ PORNOGRAPHIC MOANS. SO FUCKING PRETTY??? You’ve asked for his permission to record some of them. Of course he lets you. ✦ sends photos of the aftermath if you want him to. His cum on his still clenched abs, his trimmed happy trail, over his belly button piercing. Yum. ✦ HAS DEFINITELY POSTED ON GWA YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE.(it’s JOI too :(((( he’s secretly dedicated some audios for you. May or may not have accidentally whispered your name in one of his jerk off with me audios too :(((((((( man I’m sobbing into my pillow. Nobody touch me.)

𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎.

✦ you can’t look at this man and say he’s shit at phone sex. You can’t convince me otherwise. You just can’t. ✦ of course, he’s absolutely cracked at talking dirty to you. It’s always a mix of praise and degradation with him. ✦ he’d be happy if you just sent him nudes, really. But he’s over the moon once you suggested to do it over a call. Immediately is palming his hard on through his jeans while he’s waiting for you to pick up. Opens with a casual little, “hey, honey,” you wouldn’t know he’s practically going to town on his cock, hot to go. ✦ with how sweet he could be to you, he could be so, so fucking mean too. ✦ “My, my. That was such a pretty sound you just made. Wanna do that again for me? Wanna hear my pretty little cockslut begging for me while I fuck my fist. Yeaaah, just like that. Louder.” ✦ the type to send in voicemails at random times of the day. You know they’re exclusively for you since he’s practically chanting out your name while he fucks himself. You’ve made the mistake (plenty of times) of listening to some of them in public. Thank god your phone wasn’t on full volume but people definitely heard your boyfriend fucking his fist. ✦ you put him in his place when you get home by tying him down to the bed and edging him to hell and back and back again and back again and back again and—

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.

✦ THIS MANNN…. He knows how to use his voice. He KNOWS HOW TO USE HIS VOICE SOMEONE HOLD ME THE FUCK BACK— ✦ he really doesn't like texting. So you both often call each other at the end of the day when you're apart. You're often apart too, with work and with it taking you to different cities. He's home alone at your apartment with your pets, with your clothes beside him on the couch. See where this is going? :-)) ✦ "Miss ya. Fuck, I really miss ya. Even the cats miss yer constant yappin'-" he teases and he's palming his cock through his gray sweatpants when he hears you shoot a clever quip at him. "Mhh-doll, I really do fuckin' miss ya. Especially when we wake up in the mornin'? Yeah. When ya press yer ass up against me, miss how ya know how to touch me just right-" "Jo, are you touching yourself right now?" he has the gall to chuckle. "Wanna see?" He was so ready to switch to facetime, to show you how he's lazily dragging his fingers up and down his throbbing cock, gray sweatpants pulled down just enough to pull it out. But you wanna stay on the call. You're rushing to your bed, hand in your shorts as soon as you lay down. ✦ likes dirty talking. LOVES when you talk dirty to him back. He's whispering phrases like, "mhm, yeah?", "what do ya want me t'do to ya when you get back?", "what else, angel?" prodding you on, urging you to express your deepest desires to him because he's NEEDY NEEDY NEEDY. (He knows you're as eager as he is too) ✦ wants to cum with you so he edges himself until you say you're almost there. Wants to match your pace and tries to by listening to your breathing, the rhythm of your moans. Never fails to tell you he loves you after he cums. ✦ promises a huge surprise for you when you get back :-)

a/n: THESE WERE SO FUCKING FUN TO DO RRRRAAAAAHHHHHHHHHRHRHR!!!!!!!!!!!!! *insert werewolf ripping clothes open meme here* I hope you guys like it. The brainworms are wriggling mighty strong.

[propertyofwicked]

SMITTEN - LN

ln x reader, platonic!grid x reader SMAU

based on this request ✧ my inbox is open ✧

warnings: none, just a little swearing throughout - also she's a short one

masterlist the playlist

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

yourusername made a new post!

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 21,223 others

yourusername 10 years ago today, i competed in my final karting race in order to pursue my dream career - and i would do it all over again, especially when i still get to spend my days with these losers

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, pierregasly

view all 5,421 comments

maxverstappen1 losers?? i think you mean losers and three time world champion, no?

⤷ yourusername they're not mutually exclusive

charles_leclerc proud of everything you've achieved mon amour

⤷ yourusername you’re just glad i left karting so that i stopped kicking your ass

⤷ charles_leclerc we raced in different categories?

⤷ yourusername the points dont lie leclerc

pierregasly i love you but did you have to chose this photo of me?

⤷ yourusername yes.

⤷ yourusername believe it or not, i have worse ones i couldve used

⤷ francisca.cgomes leak them

⤷ pierregasly bro??

⤷ yourusername cant believe youve just called your own girlfriend bro

yourusername made a new post!

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 21,223 others

yourusername thank you mclaren for having me today! trying to get the drivers to sit down and answer my questions may have shaved a few years from my life but i had fun regardless!

check out the video on youtube now!

view all 5,421 comments

mclaren thank you for babysitting! 🧡

⤷ yourusername id say anytime but the curly haired one kept asking "why" after every sentence :/

⤷ landonorris babysitting? nah, milf training comment has been deleted

⤷ landonorris ….why?

⤷ yourusername not sure what i did in a past life to deserve this

⤷ username3 yo anyone else see the deleted comment? someone pr train this man pleeeease

landonorris was lovely to see you! stop by anytime 🧡

⤷ username1 "lovely" 👀

username5 working hard or hardly working?

⤷ yourusername working flaccid.

oscarpiastri 🧡

yourusername made a new post!

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 12,358 others

yourusername taking a break from being your favourite journalist to become the ultimate stray cat whisperer

view all 2,381 comments

francisca.cgomes you look so gorgeous meu bem ❤️

⤷ yourusername i am nothing compared to you kiks ❤️

⤷ francisca.cgomes shush you

⤷ yourusername make me 😋😩

landonorris correct! you are my favourite journalist! and i am a stray cat!

⤷ yourusername be so fucking fr rn lando

⤷ username5 i refuse to believe this is real

⤷ oscarpiastri pretty sure i just heard him meow honestly

landonorris hi! im free june 24 if you want to hangout june 24 lmk im not doing anything june 24 please msg me if ur available june 24 so we could maybe hangout or do something june 24 !!

⤷ charles_leclerc lando please stop you're embarrassing youself

⤷ maxverstappen1 no charles, let him cook

⤷ charles_leclerc this is going to end badly

⤷ maxverstappen1 thats what im hoping for

⤷ yourusername you guys are being so mean

⤷ yourusername do it again 😈

username8 she's so beautiful i dont know if i wanna be her or with her

⤷ landonorris i know what im chosing

⤷ yourusername lando this is so unhinged pls move it to the dms

⤷ landonorris yes ma'am 🫡

⤷ yourusername ma'am??? im 2 years older than you not 20

yourusername made a new post!

liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes , and 23,139 others

yourusername test drive

view all 6,581 comments

username3 test drive? THE CAR OR LANDO?

⤷ username12 that is not lando - surely???

charles_leclerc its june 24th.

⤷ pierregasly he's only gone and done it

⤷ charles_leclerc i fear i will never recover from this

⤷ yourusername french speaking men really are the most dramatic.

⤷ charles_leclerc i can be dramatic in spanish too if you need

⤷ carlossainz55 no gracias 😩

⤷ username3 this confirms it OH MY GOD

username7 what car do you drive?

⤷ yourusername my personal car is just a peugeot 208 but i rented a porsche for the week!

yourusername made a new post!

liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1 and 23,139 others

yourusername back to work, and back to mercedes for the first time in a while! keep your eyes peeled for some race week content coming your way!

tagged: lewishamilton, georgerussell63

view all 1,372 comments

georgerussell63 right well that's just cruel y/n. please violate lewis JUST ONCE

⤷ yourusername lewis didn't have a habit of running me off the track repeatedly

⤷ georgerussell63 that was ONCE. 14 YEARS AGO.

⤷ yourusername that's a strange way of apologising

⤷ username14 sometimes i forget she used to kart with like half of the grid

⤷ username14 like girly out here interviewing her childhood friends every week

mercedesamgf1 i feel like we need context for the last image, y/n

⤷ yourusername there are some things you will never know, admin

landonorris come back to mclaren tf?

⤷ yourusername soon 🤫

username4 lewis actually took part in social content? don't give me false hope i beg of u

⤷ yourusername not only did he take part, but he served cunt whilst doing so

⤷ lewishamilton i don't think i want to know what this means

⤷ yourusername probably for the best grandpa 💖

username15 sorry is everyone just ignoring lando being desperate in the comments?

⤷ yourusername if we ignore him, he'll go away

⤷ landonorris wrong. ill get worse! hope that helps x

yourusername made a new post!

liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 42,601 others

yourusername cats out the bag

view all 2,671 comments

landonorris milf.

⤷ yourusername im not a mother??

⤷ landonorris *yet.

username3 wait how short is she? 'cos lando is not that tall i SWEAR

maxverstappen1 don't you mean...cougar?

⤷ yourusername you wanna talk to me about age gaps rn?

lilymhe that should be me holding ur hand

⤷ yourusername it still can be babygirl

⤷ lilymhe say less

⤷ alex_albon no please do say more - if im losing my girlfriend id like a full explanation

⤷ yourusername my hairline is still intact?

⤷ landonorris devoured.

username15 does he not get bored of you asking him questions all the time?

⤷ yourusername not really, 'cos when i run out of work related questions i spiral into asking if he's mad at me every 20 minutes

⤷ username6 honestly so real for that

[charliemwrites]

Part 4

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).

Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort

You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.

That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)

You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.

Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.

You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.

Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.

You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.

You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.

“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.

“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.

His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”

You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.

“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.

“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”

You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”

You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.

“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.

“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.

The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”

“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.

“Maybe,” you allow.

“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”

Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.

Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.

“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”

You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.

“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”

You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.

“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”

He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.

“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”

Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.

He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”

Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.

“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.

“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.

He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.

You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”

He groans. “Five. Minutes.”

You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.

You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.

It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.

“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”

You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.

“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.

“This is fine,” he says.

He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.

Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.

He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”

You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”

“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”

“I set an alarm?”

You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.

“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.

“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.

“Yeah, next time.”

Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.

Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.

“Where was this?”

You frown. “At the grocery store…?”

“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”

You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.

The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.

“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”

You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.

As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.

(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)

You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.

Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.

“Careful,” you chide.

He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”

“I know, but I like this shirt.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”

You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.

“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.

You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.

“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.

You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.

He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.

“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”

You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”

“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”

Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”

Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.

You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.

Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.

It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.

I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.

A response comes almost immediately.

Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.

Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…

He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?

You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.

Ice cream not-good, you reply.

Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.

You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.

“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.

“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”

You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)

“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”

“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.

“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”

You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.

“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”

You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.

“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.

The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”

“You two,” you sigh happily.

He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.

“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”

You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”

He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.

You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.

“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.

You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.

“Eh, why the hell not?”

You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.

You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist